The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [11]
“A better mousetrap,” mused Picard.
“No, sir, a better tractor beam.”
Picard chose not to respond to the comment. He also chose to stifle his smile as he caught Geordi’s exasperated sigh. Data’s face creased in puzzlement at the subtle criticism, but he appeared unable to pinpoint his offense.
“Yar, return the ship to general quarters,” ordered Picard. Even if the alien ship’s absence proved to be the calm before a gathering storm, he would take advantage of the lull.
The security chief gently tapped the surface of her console. The flashing red lights faded, but the troubled look on her face remained.
The captain stood to address his crew. “Thank you all for your comments. Given the possibility of a renewed attack, I am certain you will remain especially vigilant despite our peaceful status.” If they were attacked again, he had scant knowledge with which to build an effective defense. Picard allowed the bridge officers wide latitude for discussion, but he also recognized the limits of their speculation. He needed facts now, not theories.
Deanna Troi scanned the impassive faces of the Oregon Farmers gathered in the suite. Clamoring voices had fallen silent as soon as she crossed the threshold. If nothing else, her entrance had shifted the emotional spectrum of the room’s inhabitants. Their agitation was now giving way to suspicion.
“I’m Counselor Troi.” She smiled in a desperate attempt to slow the gathering wave of resentment. “The bridge reported that you have been alarmed by-“
“Warmonger!” Several of the standing Farmers moved aside to reveal a stout man with a shortly cropped beard. He looked much the same as the other men in the room, but he was far more pompous. “The fighting must stop at once. I demand it.”
“We’re not at war,” protested Troi. “This is only-“
“Liar!” shouted a woman by the man’s side. She was skinny and much older, but despite the difference in stature and age the two bore a family resemblance. “Your own self-serving machines have revealed the infamy of your actions. Listen!”
In the silence that followed the woman’s imperious order, the even drone of the computer alert instructions could finally be heard by everyone.
“We are currently engaged in combat with a hostile agent. Please remain in your cabin until the Red Alert signal has ended.”
Troi made a mental note to review with Data the computer system’s passenger interface. His insistence on accuracy was not necessarily in the best interests of the passengers. Surely a more diplomatic and less informative phrasing would have lessened their fears.
“The message is just a precaution,” said Troi. “We have encountered an unknown vessel. An inability to communicate with them has resulted in a misunderstanding that will be settled soon.” To her relief, the Red Alert signal faded as if on cue. The next words from the computer were more reassuring.
“Red Alert is now over. You may resume your normal activities.”
Another Farmer stepped forward from the crowd, one Troi recognized as Dnnys’s mother. Patrisha’s features were too strong to be called pretty, too arresting to be called plain. Her graying hair was braided into a single plait which trailed down her waist. Years of hard work had roughened her hands and thickened her frame, but she carried herself with poise.
“Thank you for your visit, Counselor Troi.”
The speaker had issued an obvious dismissal. Though Troi could detect no personal animosity from this woman, the hostility from the other Farmers had not lessened. Sensing that her continued presence would only aggravate the passengers further, Troi quietly took her leave.
“We should never have left Grzydc!” said Tomas as soon as the outsider was gone. He tugged furiously at the tufts of his beard.
“We weren’t given the option of staying,” Patrisha reminded him, but she knew Tomas had no interest in discussing their