To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [5]
Crusher murmured to Counsellor Troi behind latticed fingers. The Betazoid declined to comment.
“Yes, of course,” Ambassador Lelys was saying, turning the power of her smile on Dr. Crusher. “As soon as I volunteered for this mission, I made it a point to request transport by the Enterprise, chiefly because I knew you were assigned to this ship. Your reputation as a xenobiologist is extraordinary, and we may well need the extraordinary before we are done. I can not begin to tell you how unnerved I was when we were informed that you might not share this voyage with us.” “I was attending the Ark conference on Malabar Station,” Dr. Crusher explained. “I received direct orders from Admiral Mona to return immediately.
Unfortunately, the orders didn’t include more than the barest briefing. I know that there’s a health crisis of major proportions on Skerris IV”mshe didn’t even attempt to pronounce that world’s name in the old styleto”but if that’s so, I don’t see what we’re doing in this sector, nowhere near the Skerrian system, and heading farther from it by the minute.”
Ambassador Lelys sighed, her eyes full of sorrow as she gazed at the holographic projection slowly turning on the conference table. “How beautiful,” she said, the ornaments in her hair chiming softly. “And how great a pity that we did not appreciate its beauty soon enough.” She fell into a heavy silence which no one— not even the impatient Legate Valdormtried to break.
From his place, Captain Picard, too, regarded the slowly turning projection of Skerris IV. The story of that lovely world’s ugly fate was a familiar one—far too familiar—in the scope of universal history. Once a thriving word, Skerris IV had made great technological progress, conquering interstellar travel and seeding countless other worlds with her colonies.
“What fools we were,” said Ambassador Lelys with a sigh.
“Fools?” Legate Valdor snapped out the word, his pale skin darkening with rage. “Is this how you speak of the Ancestors? Mark me, Ambassador Lelys.
Disrespect to me is one thing, but disrespect to the Ancestors must and will be reported to the—” “Very well, Legate,” Lelys said with the patience of a mother dealing with a fractious four-year-old.
“Report me with my blessing. You have done little this entire trip but collect incidents, evidence, and assorted sins I have supposedly committed. By the time you present the full catalog of my offenses, I will have retired from the diplomatic service, so by all means, enjoy yourselfi” The legate’s fleshy lips pressed together, the dull orange irises of his eyes expanding until the thin rim of white surrounding them was no longer visible. He started to rise from his chair, fists on the table.
“Father~” The younger male tentatively reached out to sieze the legate’s arm. “Father, Ambassador Lelys only said the same thing that you and I have heard many times from the lips of respected Council members. She speaks within the law. The glories of the Ancestors are holy, but the follies of the Ancestors must be acknowledged.” “A fool’s law,” Legate Valdor muttered, subsiding.
He jerked his arm away from the younger male.
“Small wonder you know it so well, Hara’el.” The younger male bowed his head and meekly said, “Yes, Father.” “But is it not true, Legate Valdor, that any law that allows us to extract present wisdom from past errors is not only valid but essential?” Mr. Data asked. He received a venomous look from the Orakisan for his troubies.
“What are