Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [18]
Colonel Talanne thought she was showing a mask of indifference. Her vibrating fear was tucked behind a wall of lies. Lies that sounded hollow even to herself.
‘Thank you for coming so promptly, Healer. I am most grateful.” Her voice was utterly calm, but grief flickered behind her lovely eyes.
‘I was glad to come. If you need me again, I will be here.”
Her face constricted with an effort not to cry, but her voice did not betray her. “Thank you again. I will see him to sleep. You will be meeting with my husband tomorrow morning. I will be there. Good night, Healer.”
‘Good night, Colonel Talanne,” Troi said. She had been dismissed abruptly. But Troi understood. Talanne was holding onto her dignity with both hands. It was only a matter of moments before the second highest ranking Torlick officer broke down and cried. Talanne wanted them gone before she did.
A guard opened the door, and Troi started to walk out, but Worf stopped her. “I will go first and check the hallway.”
Stepping outside, Worf was relieved to be able to do something tangible. This talk of children and emotional scars had made him uneasy. Ever since they had beamed down to Oriana, he had felt out of his element. Diplomacy was not his strong suit. He half-wanted a confrontation, something real and physical to take the taste of grief from his mind. Colonel Talanne’s worry for her son made him think of Alexander.
Worf pushed thoughts of children from his mind. He had work to do.
Searching the hallway, he found it empty except for the constant colors. He had grown weary of the bright, screaming paintings.
‘It is clear,” he said. Troi walked out beside him, and the door closed behind them. They were left alone in the night-silent hallway.
Worf could hear the blood rush in his own veins as he strained for any sound of trouble.
‘We’d better report back to the captain,” Troi said.
‘Did you learn something?”
‘Every important government leader has a personal sentinel that has loyalty first to the person they guard.”
‘It would make discipline difficult,” Worf said.
‘I suppose it would. Breck, the guard that always seems to be with us, is our personal sentinel or perhaps the captain’s.”
‘Does this mean that this guard is loyal to the captain before his own people?” Worf asked.
‘I believe so. I also learned that the Orianians love their children.”
‘Does that surprise you?”
‘They value their children, Worf. I think that what’s happening to the children is one of the major reasons this peace negotiation has been called.”
‘Does the captain know this?”
‘Not yet.”
Worf nodded. “You have learned much.
‘I hope so,” Troi said. She looked back at the closed door. A look passed over her face as if she were listening to music that he could not hear. He would have bet she was sensing some emotion. Was she feeling the child’s fear? The mother’s sorrow? Not for the first time, Worf was glad that he did not share Troi’s gift.
They had not gone far when a man stepped around the corner. He was short, thin, almost childlike. He was dressed in full mask and a plain brown cloak.
Worf stepped in front of Troi, using his body to shield her. “Who are you?” he demanded.
The Orianian held his hands palm upward to show them empty. Then he spread the cloak out for Troi and Worf to see that he had no weapon.
He was the first adult besides Dr. Zhir that they had met who was not armed. “I am called Audun.”
‘Are you Torlick or Venturi?” Worf asked.
‘Neither.” He was still walking toward them.
‘Stand where you are,” Worf said. Worf drew his phaser and pointed it at the man’s chest. He appeared to be unarmed, but Worf knew appearances could deceive.
‘I mean you no harm.
‘Worf,” Troi said, “I don’t feel any hostility from him. If anything, he’s afraid for his own safety.”
‘As he should be,” Worf said. But he listened to Troi’s words. If she said the man wasn’t hostile,