The Last Stand - Brad Ferguson [64]
“No kidding,” the ensign returned. “Well, Commander? Do we run down the street? Do we beam up? Do we slug him?”
“None of those courses of action seems necessary at this time, Ensign. Let us simply remain here and see what happens.”
The policeman came up to them and thrust his face about ten centimeters from Data’s nose. He looked angry. “All right, citizen,” he said. “What did you see? Who put up that thing?”
“I do not know, sir,” Data said politely. “My friend and I were out walking.” He pointed down the boulevard in the direction from which they had come. “When we came around the corner two blocks down that way, the sign was already hanging over the boulevard. We saw no one who might have been responsible for its placement there.”
The policeman looked closely and intimidatingly at Data. “You from around here, citizen?” he asked the android. “You talk funny.”
“I am from a place not far from here, sir,” Data said. “However, I have done some traveling.”
“And you say you saw nothing.”
“That is correct.”
“What about you?” the policeman shot at Ro.
“I didn’t see anything, sir.”
The policeman sighed wearily. Suddenly, he seemed resigned. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “Whoever put that thing up is long gone. Look, are you two sure you didn’t see anyone or anything? There been a preacher around here?”
“No, sir,” Ro said. “We haven’t seen any preachers.”
The policeman looked around on the sidewalk. “No, I guess not,” he said after a moment. “I don’t see any tracts scattered around. Usually people drop ‘em as soon as the preachers or their cohorts hand them out. This time they just strung up the sign and beat it.” He looked at the white heap in the gutter. “It’s gigantic,” he said, shaking his head. “What a waste of time and talent. I wonder how they managed to get it up there?”
“How do they ever?” Ro asked knowingly.
“You said it.” The policeman unclipped and took in his hand a small device attached to the belt of his uniform. “Well, let me register your identification cards, you two, and you can be on your way.”
“I have mine right here,” said Ro as she reached for her belt buckle.
Suddenly there was a low, terrible growl all around them. The policeman looked quickly around the sky as the sound rose rapidly in pitch and volume to become the ear-splitting, soul-shaking alert of a siren, of a hundred sirens.
The entire city was howling.
“Air raid!” the policeman snapped at them. “Get out of here! Head for the nearest shelter!”
“Where is it?” Ro asked.
The policeman cursed and pointed half a block farther down the street. “The symbol’s right there over that door, you idiots. Get going!” He hurried away, calling to his comrades, who were quickly climbing into their ground vehicles. “Wait for me!”
“Shelter or home base?” Ro asked Data.
“Let us conceal ourselves in that doorway for a moment,” Data told her. “I wish to contact the ship.”
They hurried over to the doorway and stepped inside its shade. The arrival of the police a few minutes before had effectively cleared the street, and the air raid alert would keep them from returning for a while. No one would see them.
Data tapped his belt buckle. “Data to Captain Picard.”
“Picard here.”
“Captain, is there any sign of a Krann attack on our location or anywhere in proximity to it?”
“No. No, there isn’t. The reason for this alert is a mystery to us. We’re reading no sign of any unusual Krann activity. Their lead ships continue on course for Nem Ma’ak Bratuna, but they are still a day away. What’s going on, Mr. Data? We’re noticing a great deal of sudden Lethantan military activity in your part of the continent. And are those air raid sirens I hear in the background?”
“Yes, sir, they are,” Data said. “The Lethanta appear to believe that they are under attack.”
“Captain, this is Ro. We had been stopped for routine questioning by a local security official when the sirens went off. The official clearly