The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [57]
So few of the Iconian Dream texts had survived from ancient times; if there had been more, perhaps she would have stayed longer.
Most Dynasians on campus had been vaguely repulsed by the offworlder with an unadorned forehead and pale green skin, so young Diat had been the only scholar in his department who volunteered to help with her research. Unlike the others, he had been moved by her intensity of purpose and her complete disinterest in the opinion others held of her; both were qualities that he lacked.
His hands reached for the tails of the tattered scarf draped around his neck, and his fingers stroked the rough weave as if caressing the face of a lover. The scarf was made of a sturdy Vulcan fabric, and T’Sara had worn it throughout her visit because even during a heat wave the Dynasian summer was colder than Vulcan’s winter. For years Manja had wondered if she left it behind by accident or by design. Vulcans were unsentimental by nature, yet she had fathomed the emotions of the beings in a multitude of cultures; and if she had suspected his love for her, then she had saved a poor young professor from humiliation by tactfully ignoring that fact.
After her departure from Dynasia, he had worshiped her from afar and taken what comfort he could from the letters they exchanged. Some would consider that meager fare, yet this meeting of minds exceeded any pleasure he had ever found in the arms of his consort.
Now there would be no more letters.
Three days ago he had sent an urgent message to T’Sara telling her of a lost Iconian scroll that had been discovered in the archival vaults of the Flight Engineering library. The star map had been improperly cataloged as a technology-related text until one of Manja’s former students stumbled upon it and recognized it as part of the Dream series he had studied in a literature class.
However, T’Sara had already died before the news reached her, and one of her colleagues had answered instead.
The professor reached for the crumbled communiqu`e that had arrived just an hour ago and smoothed out the creases. Through eyes still fogged by tears, Manja read the short message one more time. Like a typical Vulcan, Sendei had reported the tragedy in terse, dry language; yet, upon this second reading, Manja realized the double tragedy in the scientist’s account of T’Sara’s death.
The members of the Vulcan Science Academy did not even recognize T’Sara’s greatest achievement! The director believed she had died in the first stages of madness.
“No!” cried out Diat Manja. “They must honor her success. After a century of searching, she found the Ko N’ya, the Gem of Ancient Iconia. I will see to it that the entire Federation learns the trtth of her discovery!”
Then he slumped back into his chair, his skin flushing to an indigo hue from embarrassment at his outburst.
How could he possibly keep this vow? He was a tired, old man with no influence, even on Dynasia. Professors of ancient literature were held in low esteem on a world that hungered for technological sophistication.
Besides, T’Sara herself would have cared little about her reputation.
Yet she had always championed the quest for truth.
Diat Manja took up a pen from his desktop. It was the only weapon he could wield, so he would have to wage this campaign with words.
There was one person on Dynasia who might have the power to call attention to this issue, one who was in constant communication with members of the Federation Council; and while Manja had no influence with the warden, one of Manja’s former students was now the man’s secretary. Ganin would see to it that Warden Chandat read this letter, and then surely Chandat would see to it that justice was done.
Manja began to write.
CHAPTER 16
A cushioned sofa was positioned only a few steps away from his desk, but Picard had waited too long to seek out its comforts.