To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [34]
“And yet was that so for Skerrians as well, or did your ancestors only come to hate lies so violently because they had escaped a world that tolerated them, to its ruin?” Lelys pulled her travellet’s cape closer around her neck. “I do not pretend to know all there is to know about our motherworld’s history, and now much of it is lost to us forever. I must be more concerned with the present, and that means finding help for our Reclamation colonists. Lies will not help them.” “Then let’s hope we can find the truth there,” RAker said, nodding toward the village. He stuck out his hand, inspecting the tint that had colored his skin to match Ma’adrys’s. “Do you think I’ll pass for a native?” “The resemblance is remarkable, on a superficial level,” Mr. Data said.
“Superficial? Oh now that’s what we need to hear.” “You are displeased by my evaluation?” The android looked bemused. “I was referring to the fact that the lenses we are wearing may simulate the enlarged irises of the natives’ eyes, but the size of the artificial iris is fixed. It can not adjust to reflect emotional changes, which is a reaction we have observed to occur in all Skerrian descendents. I do not think that this will be a problem unless the natives pay close attention to such details. However if my evaluation of the situation distresses you, Commander, perhaps I should attempt to dissemble, for the benefit of morale.” “No, Data, don’t do that. I think we’ve got all the lies we can handle right now.” Riker got a firmer grasp on his walking stick and looked up the road. A young man in a much-soiled tunic was coming down the same path, preceded by a small herd of animals that resembled Earth sheep. “On your toes, everyone, here comes our first audience.”
“Honored guests, the rooms are pleasing to you?” The innkeeper of the only public accommodations in Kare’al village rubbed his hands together and beamed at his newly arrived customers.
Commander Riker looked up at the slivers of sky visible through the thatched roof, then down at the single, sagging bed, the water bucket beside the rickety table holding the washbasin, and the empty bucket in the corner that was all the room’s provision for a guest’s basic needs. Troi and Lelys were already installed in a similarly appointed chamber at the other end of the narrow, unlit hall that ran the length of the inn’s upper story. He looked at the innkeeper and smiled.
“We couldn’t ask for more.” “Good, good, and I trust that you will also find our evening meal just as pleasing.” “We can hardly wait.” The innkeeper bustled away, thumping down the stairway that was little more than a thick ladder nailed to the wall at a slant. As soon as he was gone, Riker and Data joined the women in their room.
“Chalk up another success,” Riker reported. “Our friend the innkeeper had no trouble accepting us for pilgrims to the shrine.” “Let us hope that the other villagers will do likewise,” Ambassador Lelys said. “Back on the road, I was very much afraid that all our plans were destroyed before they were even begun. That shepherd!
The way he stared at us! And how he stood there gaping when we asked the way to the shrine of the Six Mothers, as if he had never heard of such a thing!” “There was something peculiar about him,” Troi admitted. “It was as if his mind could not hold on to our questions long enough to answer them.” “Strange,” said Mr. Data. “My initial reaction was that he suffered from some advanced form of shortterm memory loss. I have never seen so radical an example of the affliction. And yet he was just as obviously holding down a position of responsibility within his community. He must take good care of his flock, despite all indications to the contrary, or he would not have them in his charge at all.” “Maybe he’s not the only one who minds that flock,” Riker suggested. “He could have help, humanoid or animal, whatever’s the local version of a sheepdog. We just didn’t happen to run into his partner, that’s all.” He shrugged. “In any case, we’d do better to forget about him and find some villagers