Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [6]
Several hours later, Picard found himself staring at the walls of the small quarters he had been assigned by the largest Gorn—in the human’s estimate, the captain of the ship.
From the beginning, the captain had noticed what at first seemed like extreme formality in the lizard-being’s speech and movements.
It was as if the Gorn were trying very hard to mimic human protocol. Picard grunted. Perhaps it should have encouraged him that his host was trying to make him comfortable. But for reasons he couldn’t explain, the Gorn’s effort ‘to do everything “right” simply made him uneasy.
His musings were interrupted by a low-pitched buzzing that gradually filled the room. He was half out of bed when the Gorn captain and two other officers he recognized unceremoniously entered his quarters.
His host gave the human an exaggerated nod and said, “Captain Picard, we have reached our destination. Please accompany us.”
Picard was on his feet an instant later, following the Gorn through the ship. They quickly reached the vessel’s transporter chamber. Picard noted that the device didn’t have individual pads but a contiguous floor panel. Following the others, he took a random spot on the panel.
His instinct was to turn around to face the transporter operator, or rather operators, since it seemed to take three to operate the transporter. But Picard quickly saw that the Gorn captain and the others didn’t turn around. Instead they merely continued to face the room’s far wall.
The small difference in transporter protocol reminded the human that he was dealing with an alien race about which he knew virtually nothing. Up until now, they had tried to communicate with him on more or less human terms. But soon, Picard suspected, he would be meeting them on theirs.
The transporter took them—and an instant later, a large chamber coalesced around them. A high, stone wall, framed by the same metal forms he had seen on the ship.
As his companions turned around, Picard was quick to follow suit. They were now all facing a contingent of half a dozen Gorn. The largest of them, who was shorter but stockier than the Gorn captain, was wearing a translator as well.
“Captain Picard, welcome to our world. I am leader here. You may call me Leader Keeyah.” The stocky one gave Picard the approximation of a human bow, which seemed about as natural for him as a tutu on a sumo wrestler.
“Leader Keeyah,” the human replied, “it is a great honor for me personally—and as a representative of the Federation—to be invited to your world. It is my hope that our meeting is the first of many, and the beginning of an exchange that will enrich both our peoples.”
Leader Keeyah considered Picard for a moment in silence and then said: “Please come with me.”
The entire group walked from the large, open chamber to a long corridor, with doors on either side, until they reached the end of the corridor and passed through an archway.
The human found himself in a small chamber with a table in one corner. Leader Keeyah and the Gorn captain conferred with each other for a few moments. Then Keeyah faced Picard squarely.
Raising his hand, the Gorn leader held out a small electronic device, which the human quickly grasped. Then Keeyah spoke—deliberately, forcefully and with no room for misinterpretation.
“Captain Picard,” he said, “the first meeting between our two races was a mistake, born of confusion on both our parts. I am giving you a message to take back to your fellows, so that our future communication will be accurate.”
Picard nodded. “Of course. We have found accurate communication to be the cornerstone of good relations with other beings.”
The Gorn eyed him. “In this case, Captain, the communication is very simple. Your expansion in the galaxy represents the greatest threat my people have ever faced. We are formally declaring a state of war between our races. We will return you to your ship; you will deliver this message without delay. There can be no misunderstanding, nor will