The Last Stand - Brad Ferguson [61]
“We’ll blend in a lot better now,” Riker said. “I’m glad we weren’t breaking some sort of taboo.”
“There may be taboos to break, Will. It seems to me that these people have a love of ritual costuming. For instance, according to Rosco back there, we’re supposed to wear ‘a lot of red’ for whatever celebration we’re supposed to be celebrating today. Not many people are, though.”
“Damn,” Riker said. “I wish we hadn’t offended that shopkeeper. He’d done us no harm, and he’d gone to some trouble for us. We insulted him somehow without realizing it.”
“And we shocked Kerrn and Nawha, too,” Troi pointed out. “I don’t know what we did. Whatever it was, it must have been quite a gaffe.”
“Perhaps Rosco thought we were questioning his skill somehow,” Riker said. “We didn’t let him deliver the goods. I had to get us out of there, though. He’d already scanned you—to get your sizes, maybe. I thought some sort of an identity check must be coming up next, and we’re a little shy of proper ID right now. I also didn’t know how we’d pay for the clothes or Rosco’s services—or even if we had to, for that matter. Leaving seemed to me to be the wisest course. I don’t know what else we could have done.”
“I thought we were doing rather well up to that point, considering we didn’t know what anyone was talking about,” Troi said. “Today is our ‘special day.’ I wonder what the occasion is supposed to be.”
Riker shook his head. “Believe me, I wish I knew. At first I thought that they took us for an engaged couple who’d set the date, but then they seemed to expect you to be my wife—or spouse—already, and so I played it that way. At first Rosco was showing both of us the general merchandise he had to offer, and then he started concentrating on the way you were supposed to look for your special day.” He smiled. “My guess is that they thought we’d just found out that you’re pregnant. Anyway, I tried to act like a proud papa, and they all accepted it.”
“Pregnancy was my first guess, too, but it just doesn’t fit,” Troi said. “Why is everybody celebrating today? Look around, Will. Everybody’s happy. Couples are going here and there, arm in arm and hand in hand, but it’s clear that some people are happier than others.” She indicated a couple walking together a few meters away, seemingly in their own world, holding each other closely. “See? Their celebration is a special one, a celebration within a celebration. Even the single people are happy, Will, and they have no obvious reason to be. It’s a holiday of some sort, an important one, and it can’t be because everybody got pregnant on the same day. To belabor the obvious—and no pun intended, Will, so don’t you go smirking at me—humanoids don’t work that way. We’re still missing the point of all this.”
“Maybe they’re happy they’re about to invade Nem Ma’ak Bratuna,” Riker guessed. “After all, they’ve been waiting to do so for a pretty long time. Whatever celebration we’re supposed to be having might just happen to coincide with this larger celebration by the Krann of their impeding victory.”
“I think they’d be off somewhere preparing for the invasion, in that case,” Troi remarked. “They should be off practicing their space raid drills or something. Surely they wouldn’t be here, enjoying themselves.”
“Not everybody fights in a war,” Riker pointed out.
“True, but these people don’t look like they’re even expecting one,” Troi said. “There should be an element of sobriety in a wartime population, a bit of reserve, and there just isn’t one here. Maybe that’s what’s bothering me. It just doesn’t jibe, Will.” She sighed in frustration. “I wish I were able to read them. I hate being blind.”
“Hold on a second,” Riker said, interrupting her. “See that? The hatchway over there?”
“Certainly.” There was an uncharacteristically wide hatch set into the wall between two stalls. It was closed, and there was a guard standing in front of it. Unlike the other hatchways they had seen, this one was not marked in