Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [108]
Which he did.
Not Thelia herself, but a huge tapestry displayed in an open square, depicting Thelia dressed as she had been when he had first met her, and a man.
Or rather, from the white cloth chosen to represent his face and hands, and the rather good representation of his Starfleet uniform, an android.
The portrait of Thelia was recognizable, although that of Data was not. The artist with a needle had obviously had a model for the female figure, while the male must have been done from Thelia’s own description. The two figures were depicted symbolically, proportionally far too large for the mountain they stood upon, the sacred mountain of Elysia’s gods. Data had seen primitive artwork before; for the period before a culture grasped the concept of perspective, this was exceptionally good. It also proved Geordi right: Thelia was a local heroine. There would be little difficulty finding out where she was.
Data turned, ready now to ask someone, but people were streaming toward one area of the square, where an elderly man climbed onto a platform to the accompaniment of musical instruments that sounded a cross between a guitar and a mandolin. The crowd cheered, then hushed, waiting expectantly.
In practiced, professional tones, the man began to tell a story. It was not just a simple recitation; it was poetry, chanted to strums of music. Data listened for a while, then decided it was time to move on when he heard his name mentioned.
“The one from afar, promised by the gods, turned out to be magical indeed. Not a flesh and blood being, but a man of metal and light, with greater strength than a team of oxen but the gentleness of a mother caring for her child.”
At that, Data decided to stay for the rest of the performance, using his tricorder to record the poetry for later appreciation. In its bare essentials, the story was accurate: Thelia, permitted by the gods to undertake the Quest, successfully negotiated the swamp, met Data at the sacred island, and together they climbed through the mountain. In detail, though, the story was compressed, omitting the many long hours of weary climbing, and stressing Thelia’s feats over Data’s. That was only right and proper: she was their local champion.
The story ended with Thelia’s return to Atridia, bearing the news that the gods had agreed to unite their land with that of Tosus. A cheer went up from the gathered crowd. The union of the two habitats must be what the celebration was all about.
It was time to find Thelia. Data turned away from the storyteller’s platform-and found himself facing another tapestry. He had walked past this one when he entered the square, and it had been behind him all this time. This tapestry featured Thelia and another mandefinitely not Data. This man’s portrait was as detailed as Thelia’s, and had clearly been done from a 301 live model. He was tall, with brown hair a few shades lighter than Data’s, worn long in back in the Elysian style, and was dressed in a suit of blue and maroon, while Thelia in this version was all in gold but for a garland of white flowers on her dark hair. She and the man were depicted holding hands in the center of the tapestry, the castle in miniature beside Thelia, an equally imposing structure beside the man, the sacred mountain in the background, and a stylized sun pouring benevolent rays over the smiling couple.
He strode closer to the tapestry. It almost looked as if the two of them were …
Murmured voices sounded behind him. “It is true … he wears the attire of the land of Starfleet!”
Data turned to see who had spoken-and found himself being stared at by a small crowd of curious people.
“Welcome to Atridia, stranger.” An elder man detached himself from the group and stepped toward Data. “I am Lodel.”” Data nodded. “And I am-was “You are from the land of Starfleet,” another man interrupted. “You wear the same attire as Data!”
“I do,” Data smiled, letting the second man feel the fabric of his uniform.