Intellivore - Diane Duane [24]
“Frankly, team leader,” Picard said, “I’m glad to find you, your people, and your ship in one piece. There are some very odd things going on out in these spaces.”
“The sooner you let us go on about our business, then,” said the team leader, “the sooner we’ll be safe on our chosen planet, where such things will be much less likely to happen.”
“I very much doubt that,” said Picard, wondering as they walked whether the man actually believed what he was saying. “I have reason to believe that your ship is in danger of falling afoul of the same force or forces who dealt with the pirate craft that we’ve just come across.” As briefly as possible, Picard told the team leader about the condition in which they had found that vessel. “I have a certain interest,” Picard said finally, “in making sure the same fate does not befall your people.”
“That being the case—”
“I have an awful feeling I know what you’re about to say,” said Picard, being careful to keep his growing annoyance out of his voice. “You need to understand, however, that I need to know the details about where you’re going.”
“Captain,” said the team leader with exaggerated patience, “that’s information I will not give you, as I said before. You’re intruding grievously on our rights of passage—”
“Those rights obtain within Federation space,” Picard said mildly. “But in these spaces, there is no law to guarantee or enforce such rights—especially in emergency situations.”
“Captain,” said the team leader, throwing a look at Worf that was less than friendly, “I will not—”
“Let me be quite clear with you,” said Picard. “I have no desire to follow you to your planet of choice. I understand your desire to have us stay away from it. I am willing to honor that … but only if you will be reasonable and divulge your true destination. Should anything happen to you—loved ones left behind, family, friends—will at least have a way to discover what happened to you.”
“All the family and friends that we want are here with us,” the team leader said.
On a walkway a few hundred yards distant, past a clump of containerized trees, a group of children hurried by—the first quick motion Picard had seen since they had been there, and one that drew his attention almost against his will. Behind the children came a young woman, in another of the plain coveralls, desperately hissing at the children to slow down and walk properly. The children were ignoring her; one actually laughed, the sound echoing so that it sounded much bigger than it really was, and Picard felt briefly like applauding.
He restrained himself, turning his attention back to the team leader. But the man simply looked away from him, as if waiting for him to leave.
Picard sighed. “If you refuse to inform us of your destination, I’m afraid I must tell you I will slap a tractor on your vessel and sit here with you indefinitely. You will go no farther, and you can complain to Starfleet until you’ve turned the color of your choice. But I warn you that I doubt they’ll take any intransigence on your part very kindly.”
The team leader stopped in his tracks and stared at Picard with an expression that was actually admiring, in a cockeyed kind of way. “You really think you’re right, don’t you?” he said, almost sadly. “That you’re doing good. You honestly believe that.” He sighed and looked away. “I would try to reason with you and show you the error of your ways—but time’s wasting, and I don’t know if I have that many years.”
Picard held his peace and kept his face quite still through this. He felt he was being upgraded from the “dimwitted child” category to that of a benighted savage, but one with qualities that might be worth saving.
“Captain, perhaps I can save you some time,” the team leader finally said. “Our destination is Fourteen-forty Ophiuchi B Five.”
Picard stole a quick