The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [56]
Ruthe was sitting crosslegged on the metal ledge that circled the opening like a catch basin. Her music trailed away when Riker climbed out of the chute, then stopped altogether when he sat down beside her. She dropped the flute onto her lap but didn’t seem to resent the intrusion.
“You’re hurt,” he said, frowning at the line of dried blood that ran down her cheek. He brushed aside a lock of her hair and uncovered a purplish bruise on her forehead.
She shook off his touch. “Sharp edges and hard metal. That’s what ships are made of.”
“We’ve brought Jason on board. I thought you should know that.” Picard had described his confrontation with the translator and her resistance to the rescue. “Dr. Crusher will do everything-“
“He lied,” said Ruthe abruptly.
Riker almost asked her who she meant, but there was really only one person that she could be talking about. He let her continue.
“He knew what I was doing all the time.”
The captain had suspected as much. “Then why did Deelor deny it?”
Ruthe didn’t answer. She pulled her instrument into parts, then slipped the pieces into separate pockets in her cloak. Each section had its own place. “He knows other things. Dangerous things that he’s not telling.”
“Will you tell me?” asked Riker.
Her head jerked up. She studied Riker’s face, as if seeing him for the first time. “I’ve told you things before. Now it’s his turn.”
Pushing Riker aside, she raced nimbly down the rungs of the access chute. He scrambled after her, but by the time he dropped back into the corridor below, Ruthe was gone.
Chapter Twelve
UNCOUNTED NUMBERS OF STARS glittered brightly outside the windows of the observation lounge, but their light cast no warmth on the three men inside.
“You knew there was an adult still aboard the B Flat and were prepared to let the Choraii leave with him. Why?” demanded Captain Picard.
“Ruthe acted of her own accord, Captain,” said Deelor with a greater show of conviction than he had exhibited hours before in that same room. “I knew nothing … “
Picard made a deliberate show of losing his temper.
He slammed his fist down on the tabletop and raised his voice to shout. “I’m tired of your self-serving games, Ambassador Deelor. Or Agent Deelor-or whoever you really are. No more evasions, no more crumbs of information. I want the whole truth of what you’re doing out here.”
The expression of innocence had frozen on Deelor’s face. He rubbed it away with one hand. Beneath that mask, his face was gaunt and weary. “Yes, I knew about Jason and I knew that Ruthe planned to leave him.” He sagged deeper into his seat, as if in need of its support to continue. “I agreed not to interfere with her decision because I knew if we brought him here he would probably die. There have been other exchanges, ones that not even Ruthe knows about. In all, the Federation has recovered twelve of the original Hamlin captives.”
“And they’ve all died?” asked Riker.
“Not all,” said Deelor. “But those that aren’t dead are withdrawn, catatonic. Only young children seem able to adjust to life outside of the Choraii ships.”
Picard thought of the casualties in sickbay and his bitterness increased. “Why didn’t you tell me this before we brought Jason aboard?”
His answer confirmed the captain’s fear. “Because you might have let him remain with the Choraii,” said Deelor. “And being a man of integrity, you would have recorded that decision in your Captain’s Log. I have fewer scruples. I was willing to let Jason go, but only if no one knew. There are too many officials in high places that want the Hamlin captives brought back.”
Picard might fault the man’s ethics, but at least Deelor was finally being candid. “Why is his return so important?”
“Different reasons for different admirals. Some are under the belief, perhaps misguided, that the survivors can be salvaged or that a crippled life in