The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [35]
Ruthe did not break off playing when Data wandered into the lounge, though her melody slowed as she watched him take a seat. He was more interested in the printout report he brought with him than in her music, so she resumed her original tempo. Riker knew that the vocoder nestled in the palm of Data’s hand recorded her every note.
Deanna Troi was the next person to enter. Riker feared the counselor’s presence would disturb Ruthe, but the translator was too absorbed in her song to be troubled by an additional listener. Unfortunately, he couldn’t restrain his own irritation at the growing audience.
Under cover of the music, Deanna whispered to him, “Perhaps you could concentrate better in more intimate surroundings.”
A sustained B Flat signaled the end of Ruthe’s song.
“That was beautiful, even if I don’t understand what it means,” said Riker. “But then, I’m sure the Choraii find our speech just as mysterious.”
Ruthe shook her head. “Not at all. The Choraii learned Federation Standard from the children. In fact, they speak it quite well, but it’s such an ugly, clumsy way of communicating, they prefer not to use it.”
That fact was certainly worth passing on to Picard, but it was the last useful bit of knowledge that Riker gathered from the translator.
“Will … . ” Troi’s warning came when Ambassador Deelor was only a few yards away.
“I wondered where you were.” Deelor spoke only to Ruthe.
“I got bored waiting in the cabin.”
“That won’t happen again,” Deelor assured her. “My trips to sickbay are over,” This last comment was directed at the first officer.
The ambassador beckoned Ruthe to his side. She rose from her seat and followed him out of the lounge.
Riker frowned as he watched the pair walk away. Ruthe had left without a parting word, without a backward glance. “I don’t like the way Deelor orders her around.”
“She doesn’t seem to mind,” said Troi. “Why should you?”
He turned to answer her but bit back the reply when he saw Data still sitting nearby. The android had abandoned his earlier pose of disinterest and watched them with undisguised curiosity.
“Data, it’s time for you to go,” said Riker.
Data frowned, searching his memory for some forgotten appointment. “I have no particular event scheduled for this hour.” He studied Riker’s expression more closely. “You wish for me to leave?”
“Yes, Data,” said Troi quite firmly.
The android didn’t move. “My understanding of human interaction would improve if I had more opportunities for direct observation. Your discussion promises many important insights.”
“We’d like some privacy,” Riker insisted.
“But it is that very privacy which obstructs my attempts at understanding the intricacies of interpersonal relationships.”
“Good-bye, Data,” said Riker. Data rose from his chair and left the room, but he walked slowly. The first officer wondered about the limits of the android’s hearing and waited until Data was well out of sight before speaking. “Deanna, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“I have no right to jealousy. Our parting made that aspect of our relationship certain.”
“And you have no reason for jealousy either.”
“I know that, Will,” she admitted with a sigh. “True, I can sense a passing interest in Ruthe, your admiration of her beauty, but no serious attraction. From her … . “
Riker’s vanity battled against a sudden concern for Ruthe’s feelings. “You don’t mean she’s falling for me?”
“No. No, she’s not,” answered Troi with more certainty than he expected. “In fact, I sense no interest in you at all.”
Troi smiled at the flicker of annoyance that crossed his features. Her next words soothed Riker’s pride and explained her own troubled thoughts. “That’s just it. She has no interest in anything except her music. She is empty, Will. Devoid of all feeling.”
Chapter Eight
TEN MEN AND WOMEN were bunched in a tight knot in front of the holodeck gate. The portal was open. Just over the threshold, gently rolling hills led to a stand of shade trees. A breeze rustled