Gauntlet - Michael Jan Friedman [24]
Nonetheless, she got one—from Caber. “Afternoon,” he said.
Wu stopped and looked surprised. “To you too,” she responded, her pleasure evident in her expression. She seemed to make note of Caber’s face. Then she resumed her progress.
Nikolas looked at his roommate, more envious than ever. It would never have occurred to him to say anything to a command officer unless he absolutely had to.
“Now I’m really impressed,” he confessed.
“With what?” Caber wondered. Then he seemed to understand. “That I said hello to Commander Wu?”
“Not just that you did it,” Nikolas told him. “That you sounded so earnest about it.”
“You can too.”
Nikolas shook his head. “Coming from me, it would sound like mockery. I’m the wild child, remember? I don’t mix well with command types.”
“But you could,” Caber insisted. “All you’ve got to do is make an adjustment in the way you look at them.”
Nikolas looked at him askance. “An adjustment . . . ?”
“That’s right. I mean, what’s the difference between them and us, when you come right down to it? A couple of bars on their sleeves? A little bridge time we haven’t accumulated yet?”
“The power to make us scour plasma conduits the rest of our lives?” Nikolas added.
Caber waved the notion away. “I’m telling you, they’re the same kind of people we are—no better and no worse. All you’ve got to do is keep that in mind.”
Nikolas frowned. “Easier said than done. For me at least.”
“I’ll tell you what,” his roommate said. He looked around, as if to make sure that no one was eavesdropping on his conversation. Then he lowered his voice and went on. “I’ll share a little technique I’ve found useful, if you promise to keep it to yourself.”
Nikolas considered the offer. “Mum’s the word.”
“A couple of years ago,” Caber began, “I was on Betazed for the wedding of a high-ranking Betazoid official. He knew my father pretty well, so he invited my whole family to the celebration. But rather than pull my mother away from work and my sisters out of school, my dad decided to just bring me.”
A picture was starting to form in Nikolas’s mind. “On Betazed? But don’t they—?”
“That’s right,” Caber said. “They have naked wedding ceremonies. The bride, the groom, the guests, the guy who pronounces them soul mates for life . . . everyone. And in this case, there were also a few admirals and their staffs.”
Nikolas tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. “Their staffs? You mean . . . their attachés?”
There was absolutely no one more stuck-up or supercilious than an admiral’s attaché. They were always so straightlaced, so proper. So the idea of one of them standing there naked . . .
His smile turned into a laugh.
“Exactly,” Caber said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “They looked ridiculous. Stripped of their dignity, quite literally. And that’s what gave me the idea for my technique.”
Nikolas was beginning to understand what his roommate was getting at. “You think of people without their clothes?”
“Stark naked,” Caber confirmed, “wearing nothing but what they were born with. Believe me, it makes it a lot easier to deal with the muckety-mucks of the world. It’s hard to feel intimidated by somebody when they’re standing there without a stitch.”
Nikolas found it hard to disagree.
“Go ahead,” Caber said. “Give it a shot.”
Nikolas looked at him. “Now?”
“Why not?”
Nikolas frowned. Then he took in the mess hall at a glance, seeking a likely subject. Suddenly, one presented itself.
As the individual in question walked by, Nikolas got up from his seat and said, “Good afternoon, sir.”
Chief Engineer Simenon looked up at him through slitted, ruby eyes, his scaly nostrils flaring. “Really.”
Naked, Nikolas thought.
It wasn’t a pretty sight. However, it had the desired effect. Whatever he might have found daunting about Simenon dematerialized along with his lab coat.
“Yes, sir,” Nikolas assured him.
The Gnalish tilted