The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [33]
“B Flat,” said Riker after listening for several minutes. “At octave intervals, but always B Flat.”
“That’s as good a name for the Choraii ship as any other,” responded Deelor.
Reaching the end of her greeting, Ruthe held the naming note until her breath died away. She dropped the instrument into her lap and waited.
The answering transmission was more intricate. Three separate flutes, or possibly voices, wove up and down crossing the B Flat tone sustained by a fourth player. After listening for some time, Ruthe began to play again, melding her part among the others. The exchange lasted several minutes, then one by one the voices dropped out, leaving Ruthe solo again.
Eyes closed to the people around her, the translator was still playing when Yar announced that the Choraii ship had passed out of scan range. Deelor touched Ruthe lightly on the shoulder. She broke off abruptly, as if waking from a trance.
“They have a song to finish before they can meet with us, but they have agreed to another rendezvous.”
“Even after the injury we caused their vessel?” asked Picard. “I would have expected that a greater amount of persuasion would be needed to arrange another contact.”
“Oh, that.” Ruthe shrugged off the previous encounter. “No one was hurt, the ship has healed.”
“Where and when are we to meet with them?”
Ruthe hesitated, then returned to her flute. She replayed a short segment of the exchange, transposing the notes to human concepts. “In twenty of your hours. The choice of place was mine. I told them we would meet at coordinates eight five six mark twelve.”
“We can reach the site in the allotted time by traveling at warp six,” said Data after plotting the coordinates on his console. “But why there? The location has no obvious significance.”
“I liked the sound of it.”
Riker smiled at the android’s consternation. “Sometimes presentation is more important than content, Data.”
“I fail to comprehend … . “
“Later, Mr. Data,” said the captain firmly. “Now that the rendezvous has been established, the ship’s saucer section can be detached and left behind. We’ll meet the Choraii with the battle bridge.”
“Under no circumstances,” said Deelor. “The ship stays whole.”
Picard stiffened at the countermand. “I can’t deliberately involve passengers in the coming conflict.”
“They are far safer staying with the heavy armaments section than they would be on their own. The Choraii are erratic in their navigation and could easily double back on course. The saucer section would be easy prey.”
“I see your point,” sighed Picard. “The population is at risk either way.”
“Quite so.” Deelor had no desire to continue debating the issue. He stood and beckoned Ruthe to leave the bridge with him. He called out one last order from inside the forward turbo compartment. “You may proceed to the rendezvous, Captain Picard.”
“The ambassador needs better manners,” muttered Picard after the turboelevator had carried Deelor off the bridge. He instructed the helm to lock in Ruthe’s coordinates, though not without some misgivings. Picard was no musician; while Riker had been enthralled by the performance, the captain had listened with growing unease to the unintelligible transmission.
“We’ve only her word for what passed between them,” he pointed out to Riker. “And while I have no reason to disbelieve what she says”-he threw up his hands in frustration-“I just don’t trust her or Deelor.”
The captain looked to Troi for an opinion, but the counselor had little to offer. “Ruthe thought solely of her music. And Deelor, as always, was very careful to shield his emotions. He knows I’m half-Betazoid, and his powers of concentration are very strong when I am nearby.”
“I have a record of the entire transmission, Captain,” said Data, next in line for the captain’s attention. “Theoretically, the language computers can develop a translation, but the Choraii speech appears