The Last Stand - Brad Ferguson [59]
“Over there,” the man said pointing toward the back of the stall. There were a couple of doors set into the wall. “You two are going to want some other things first, though, aren’t you?” He smiled again. “Can’t fly on just one jet, you know.”
“Certainly not,” Riker said, chuckling. “We’re far from done, of course. Perhaps you could, er, show us something? If these others don’t mind? They were here first, after all.”
“Oh, no, go ahead,” the Krann woman called over her shoulder. She was already digging through another bin as her mate stood by. “We’re doing just fine.”
“Very well, then.” The facilitator led Riker and Troi over to a set of smaller bins. “Anything here would be appropriate spontaneous wear for you, as I’m sure you’ll realize. Those repositories over there contain some more items your spouse might want to take a look at. We have a fine selection immediately available, as you can see, or you might be interested in our programming something for you while you wait … ?”
“You know what?” Riker said suddenly. “If you’ve got the time, I’d really like you to outfit my spouse. I’m sure you could do a terrific job. After all, it’s a special occasion for us.”
The facilitator blinked again. “You mean—”
Riker grinned widely. “That’s right.”
“Wonderful!” the facilitator said, genuinely pleased. “Well, of course I’ll help. This is a very, very special day for you two. I’m just sorry your distributor failed. What a time for that to happen!”
“Don’t we know it,” Riker said ruefully. “Anything you can do—”
“—will be done. Don’t give it another thought. Now let me see.” The facilitator put a finger to his lips and squinted at Troi, who tried to relax and look pleasant. “I think I know what I want to do,” the facilitator finally said, “but it’ll take a bit of programming.”
“We wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble,” Riker said hastily.
“No trouble at all,” the facilitator said. “First, I’ll need some basic patterns. You’ll both need a lot of red, of course. That bin over there should have a few things I can work with. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” He walked quickly toward the other end of the stall.
“Will?” Troi whispered. “What are you two talking about?”
“I have no idea,” Riker replied pleasantly, “but it’s our very, very special day, and we’re getting exactly what we need—or at least I hope we will. Just play along.”
The Krann woman in dark dress came over to them. “I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said. Clearly, she was pleased for them. “The lists are just so long, and especially at a time like this—well, you’re fortunate people, you two. You and your spouse must be very happy.”
“We are,” Riker said. “Aren’t we, dear?”
“Oh, ecstatically,” Troi agreed.
“Bet you can’t wait for all this to be over, eh?” the Krann male with her said. He winked at Riker.
“Uh, right,” said Riker.
“Permit us to introduce ourselves,” the man said, bowing slightly. “I am Kerrn Starboard Atmosphere Monitor. This is my spouse, Nawha Starboard Gas Analyzer.”
“As you can see, Kerrn and I have a lot in common,” Nawha said.
Riker bowed and identified himself. “Dex Portside Sanitation Systems Supervisor. This is my spouse, Pralla Portside Consumables Monitor.”
“Ah,” Nawha said. “You have a lot in common, too.”
“Like attracts like, I suppose,” Troi said. “We’re very pleased to meet you.”
“A pleasure to encounter you,” Kerrn said. He bowed again, this time more deeply, and Nawha followed suit. “We’re honored by your presence here,” he continued. “Supervisory personnel usually don’t frequent this corridor.”
“I think we might have been missing something,” Riker said, making a show of looking around. “This is a very pleasant place.”
“Well,” said the facilitator, coming back, “my little pavilion here does try to give the best service in this entire module, and word does get around.” He held up something that looked very much like a skirt that had been splattered with fifteen colors of paint and smiled. “What do you think?” he said, sure of an enthusiastic response.
“Perfect!” Nawha said, clapping her hands