Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [25]
‘Working together on this small matter,” Alick said, “is perhaps preferable to fighting about it.”
Both men smiled. Picard wondered how much fighting had gone into even that short speech. He came forward, motioning his own guards back with an impatient hand.
‘If you will be so kind as to get a cup, Ambassador,” Basha said.
Picard did, vowing not to throw the cup away after he had used it only once. He held the cup under the spigot. Alick turned a small handle, and steaming liquid poured into the cup.
Picard raised the cup near his face. One whiff and he felt better instantly. The warm, rich smell alone was comforting. He smiled broadly, “Earl Grey tea. I am impressed, gentleman, at your knowledge of my habits and your willingness to cooperate with one another.”
Basha and Alick exchanged glances. Alick motioned Basha to speak first. Basha bowed to acknowledge it. “Ambassador Picard, we are learning that perhaps there are worse things than working together.”
Alick smiled. “Well said.”
Picard breathed in the sweet steam of tea and hid his amazement.
They were being civil to each other. This dinner was only the preliminaries. The real peace talks began after dinner, when darkness fell. It was an Orianian custom to negotiate at night when conditions for fighting were not ideal.
‘I am most gratified,” Picard said. “And please join me in a cup of tea. Let it symbolize the beginnings of working through our difficulties together without violence.”
Basha whispered, “You were not there when we had to decide who spoke first. There was almost violence.”
Alick grinned almost sheepishly.
‘Almost is a beginning,” Picard said.
They helped themselves to cups, and when all three had a steaming, brownish-green cup of tea, Picard held his cup aloft. “My people have a custom called a toast. It is to celebrate any great and happy occasion. I propose a toast to the bravery of General Basha and General Alick, the bravery of all the Torlick and Venturi. It often takes more bravery to talk peace than to fight. To peace and prosperity for this planet.” Picard bowed to the two leaders and took a drink. After a moment’s hesitation, many in the room with cups followed his example.
‘You will have to explain to me this thing called a toast more fully later, Ambassador,” Alick said. He was standing beside the captain. He was smiling.
Picard smiled back, and for the first time since he had set foot on Oriana, he felt optimistic about his mission. “I would be happy to tell you more of our customs, General Alick…”
The smile left Alick’s face. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if to clear his vision. One hand grabbed for his chest. “Ambassador… I don’t feel… Aahh!” He groped as if blind. The cup with its tea fell to the carpet. Picard reached out to the man. Alick’s hand convulsed on Picard’s arm.
General Alick fell to his knees, dragging Picard with him. “Get a doctor,” Picard yelled. Picard had a sense of people running, frantic movement. He had eyes only for Alick. The man’s heart was beating so loudly that Picard could hear it, pounding like it was trying to come out of his chest.
Troi was beside him trying to help hold Alick’s convulsing body.
Picard stared at her in horror over Alick’s twisting body. The man’s hands clawed at Picard as if begging him to do something. Picard wanted to ask Troi if she heard his heartbeat. It was so loud, louder than his own heartbeat.
Guards in Venturi red and white pushed Picard and Troi back. They tried to hold Alick’s body still, but his muscles and limbs jumped as if they had separate lives of their own.
Even pushed back several feet, Picard could still hear the monstrously furious thumping of Alick’s heart. Troi was beside him, one hand on his shoulder. Her black eyes were wide and horror-filled.
Picard wondered wildly, could she feel the man dying? Could she feel it?
A woman dressed in orange surgical garb rushed into the room. The convulsions had already quieted. He lay very still.
‘I can’t hear his