Intellivore - Diane Duane [59]
Clif laughed, a little ruefully. “It’s one of these mountains,” he said. “Look south a bit. See that pointy one there? No, not the one that leans left, the one just past it. That’s the one.” He stretched, then leaned back in the sun, his legs stretched out in front of him. “There was a battle there once, in the valley under the mountain,” Clif said. “One of the city-states in the nearby lowlands was trying to dominate the mountain people; the mountain folk had fortified the valley, intending to defend it or die. So they defended it. The battle was one of the epic kind—huge imperial power meets and breaks on smaller independent band of free people.”
“An old story,” Picard said softly. “Is there a motif for that one?”
“Yes,” Clif said. ” ‘Live free, or die.’ “
Picard nodded. “Ileen made me laugh,” Clif said. “She told me that Marignano was something similar. An interesting coincidence.” He sighed, looked southward. “But sitting up here,” he said, “it’s hard to believe it all ever happened. The sun shines, the wind sings its usual note, or goes quiet. You can’t imagine the noise of a battle, people hitting each other with twirl spears, hacking each other into pieces. Only the beasts of prey remind you, when you see them occasionally, the big prowling carnivores that work these mountains. They’re as happy to take advantage of a free feed as they are to catch something themselves. Happier, in fact. The local people know the tendency. Those mountains over there”—he pointed off a little to their left—”are all named after predators, Ilrienh, Noraikghe, Sethe. ‘Bear Mountain,’ your people might say, ‘Lion Mountain’.” He shook his head. “My people gave them enough feeds, up in these parts, in the ancient days. But at least now we’ve stopped doing it, and the mountain can just be the name of a mountain. In fact, probably most Trill alive don’t even know the name Oraidhe now as anything but the name of a mountain. Possibly a sign of some success on our part. Thank the Powers, we’ve been spared as a species to see what lies farther along, on the other side of the mountain, in the next valley over …”
“Clif.”
The Trill looked at him.
It was almost impossible to say it. “I’m so sorry I killed you.”
Clif looked at him from above, a slightly quizzical expression. “But, Jean-Luc, if something happened to deprive me of capacity, you know I have a release on file; I wouldn’t have left you much choice. And if it’s by action or inaction you felt you’ve killed me, then I’m sure you had a good reason. You did it defending your people, or Marignano, or both; or all those other lives off behind us, back in the warmth, nearer the heart of things.”
” Picard looked at him through eyes that smarted. “I’m not sure how we’re having this conversation.
“You started it,” Clif said. “But one of the captains I studied under at Academy always used to say, ‘Preparation is everything. Whatever else you do, anticipate.’ ” He looked out over the mountains. “If you’ve come to this particular piece of dialogue, you may have come to it for comfort. I don’t know that I have any to give you … except to say that I would probably have done the same for you.” He laughed softly, then. “Except that maybe that’s not much of a comfort.”
“I only wish that this were real.”
“Reality …” Clif gave him a dry look. “Shall I ask ‘What is truth?’ and wash my hands? See,” he said, “I’m well read in your culture.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I suspect I know what you think you mean. It’s not happening in the real world, so the understanding doesn’t count. Is that the line of reasoning? If you’re hearing this, if you’re giving me answers that are evoking these responses, then believe me, the understanding was real.” He turned a slightly annoyed expression on Picard. “You might give me credit for that much, at least.”
Picard was quiet for a few moments.
“I know,” Clif said. “It’s the holodeck edition of the Pathetic Fallacy. The loaded question: should you be polite to what isn’t human, or doesn’t exist,