The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [45]
Ruthe shook her head. “Humans are never put to work. They serve … a symbolic function. The gift of a child from one ship to another cements bonds of friendship within the cluster. In order for the tie to be honored, the child must be treated with kindness and consideration.”
“Pampered pet or slave, the distinction is a fine one,” observed Picard. His voice had regained its former edge. “And equally demeaning.”
Deelor sighed heavily. “Let’s leave the ethical debate until another time, shall we?” As he crossed his arms over his chest, one finger flicked his metal insignia. “Deelor to transporter room. Proceed with the exchange.”
The three people seated at the command center stared at the image of the Choraii ship on the forward viewscreen, waiting silently for the trade to reach its conclusion. The soft chatter of Data’s ops console filtered back to them. The android’s hands moved back and forth over the panel, never still for more than an instant.
“Riker to Captain. The lead shipment has been delivered.”
At a nod from the ambassador, Ruthe picked up her flute and began to play a loose, unstructured melody. The B Flat slowly drifted away to the strains of her farewell song.
Deelor watched the ship leave through half-closed eyes. When Picard stirred in place and opened his mouth to speak, the ambassador cut him off with an imperious wave of the hand. “Listen,” he whispered.
The captain rose from his command chair and paced up to the helm, but he issued his orders quietly. “Mr. Data, set a heading for New Oregon.”
Data used one hand to input course coordinates, but his other hand continued manipulating sensor input from the retreating Choraii ship.
“Mr. La Forge, prepare for engagement of warp drive.”
“Captain, wait,” said Data suddenly. He looked up from his console. “My life-sign readings were not in error after all. There is a faint but unmistakable profile of another human still on board the Choraii ship.”
Chapter Ten
CAPTAIN PICARD PACED the deck of the observation lounge, circling the conference table and the three people seated there. He stopped opposite from Ruthe. “Data tracked your progress through every sphere in the B Flat. You knew there was another human on board.”
“Yes,” she admitted defensively. “But he doesn’t count. He’s too old to bring back.”
“And who are you to make that judgment?” Picard switched his gaze to Deelor, who sat next to her. “Or was this your decision?”
“I knew nothing about it,” said Deelor. “Federation policy is very clear on this issue. All Hamlin survivors are to be recovered.”
“I spoke with Jason,” said Ruthe. “I asked if he wanted to come with me and the child, but the thought of leaving the Choraii frightened him. He’s been with them too long to want another life.”
Picard paused in mid-stride, then took a seat at the table. “Of course, I should have realized-it’s only natural for any captives to be confused by our appearance-but this man can be helped to readjust to his native environment. We can’t abandon him simply because of his fear.”
Ruthe shook her head. The captain’s reassurance did not change her mind. “Tell them what happens,” she asked of Deelor. “Make them understand.”
Deelor did not answer her. He stared down at the tabletop as if searching for a reply on its glassy surface. He found none.
She grew anxious at his silence. “Please.”
The ambassador flinched at the utterance of that simple word which she so rarely used. He raised his head, but looked only at Picard when he spoke. “Official Federation policy dictates that we must recover all Hamlin survivors.”
“No!” said Ruthe. Her face, usually still and expressionless, was animated with resentment. “It’s a waste. He’ll die. They all do.”
“Is that true?” asked Picard.
But Deelor fell silent again. Dr. Crusher answered the question instead. “Of the five Hamlin captives bought by the Ferengi, all three adults did eventually die. Only the two children lived.”
“I see,” Picard said, dragging the two words out ominously. He was disturbed both by the knowledge