The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [137]
Picard exhaled deeply and hastened to clarify the events surrounding the death of the Romulan defector. “Ma’am, you must believe me. We did not hold your husband accountable for the incident at Nelvana III or seek any punitive action against him. He took his own life with a felodesine chip, and we were powerless to revive him…”
Ai’lara softly let out a chortle. “Don’t worry, Captain,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t hold you responsible for his death. Alidar was simply a coward. Your involvement was unfortunate happenstance—”
“Pardon me,” Picard said, “but with respect, I cannot begin to imagine the sense of loss he must have felt, believing that he was forever separated from his family and his home. Under the circumstances, it wasn’t an act of cowardice that he chose to end his suffering.”
Ai’lara blinked at him. “You misunderstand, Captain. Ending his life was not the cowardly act. Suicide was the most honorable means of atonement for his disloyalty.”
With his cup at his lips, Picard frowned, beginning to appreciate the true breadth of the cultural gulf that separated him from his host.
“Alidar’s weakness was his irrational and unrealistic pursuit of pacifism,” Ai’lara continued. “You know the dangers we face in this galaxy, Captain. It was only a matter of time before he ensured his own downfall.” She sighed and grew more contemplative as she sipped her own tea. “It is true that I loved my husband. Not long ago he was a powerful leader, yet gentle and kind to those he held dear. But at the end, his misguided idealist philosophy was a threat to the entire Romulan Empire.”
Picard shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering if this personal visit had not been a huge mistake. “Of course,” he said, “I understand that Alidar’s ideas may have seemed outlandish. But he was unfairly misled into believing that a true threat to galactic peace was at hand. And his bravery—”
“Please, Captain,” Ai’lara interrupted. “You can’t possibly understand what we have endured due to his ‘outlandish ideas.’ Simply put, we are the family of a traitor. Do you realize, Captain, that most families of dissidents tend to disappear quietly? Dozens of times we were visited by a high-ranking agent of the Tal Shiar, always so polite, always asking cloyingly pleasant questions…always leaving us terrified that this visit would be the last before they hauled us away as coconspirators.
“For whatever reason, they’ve allowed us to live, but the rest of our lives will be spent under a cloud of constant suspicion. We had no choice but to sell our home on the seafront, release our servants, and move to a district where at least my daughter no longer suffers the insults from her peers.”
She stared down into her cup, looking as if the conversation were draining all the strength from her. “We left everything from our former life…except for some sprouts to regrow the plants that surround our front walkway. Alidar always loved those plants…” As her voice trailed off, for a long moment her mind appeared to be in another place, at a simpler time. Finally she looked up, her lips pressed into a tight smile. “Truly, Captain, this is a pointless discussion, so let us dispense with the pleasantries. Why are you here?”
Though humbled by the brusqueness of her question, Picard was grateful for the opportunity simply to fulfill his obligation and put this debacle behind him. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a small padd. “Your husband left a message to you and your daughter,” he explained, setting it on the table between them. “Due to obvious circumstances, we were unable to deliver it properly until now.”
Ai’lara regarded the small device with obvious disdain. “A suicide note?” she said with cold detachment.
“I suppose it is,” Picard said.
Tiaru stepped through the doorway at the far end of the dining area. “A message from Father?” she asked, ignoring her mother