To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [6]
“You are quite right, Valdor.” Again she rose above the potential confrontation with her subordinate.
“We do not know the precise chain of events that led up to the complete annihilation of our motherworld.
For many, it is enough to know that such a disaster happened, that it did not need to happen, and that we must strive to ensure that it never happens again. The death of S’ka’rys was more than the death of a world, it was the death of knowledge,” “Not—not all knowledge, Ambassador,” Hara’el ventured. For this, he was rewarded with one of Lelys’s warmest smiles.
“Your pardon,” she said kindly. “I did ask you to handle this briefing, didn’t I? Yet here I am, in love with the sound of my own voice.” She did not notice how the color rose up Hara’el’s neck when she said love. “Please proceed.”
Hara’el cleared his throat and fidgeted in his chair, then stood up and tried to compensate for his nervousness by adopting a professorial pose. With an unnecessary gesture at the holograph, he said, “Orakisa was one of the more recently founded Skerrian colonies, relatively speaking, and was an extremely prosperous world from the first. We were very fortunate on both those counts, since prosperity allowed our founders the leisure to preserve history; Otherwise we might have come to believe that we had no roots beyond Orakisa after S’ka—Skerris IV— destroyed itself.” He, too, used the Federation style pronunciation after an uneasy sideways glance at his father “All knowledge of the motherworld—and thus of our sister colonies—would have been lost.” “What I don’t understand,” Dr. Crusher began, “excuse me for interrupting, but Ambassador Lelys told me some of this on our way to the conference room and I didn’t quite follow her. What I don’t understand is why Orakisa didn’t know of the other Skerrian colonies until recently.” “In their wisdom, the Ancestors would have it so,” Valdor intoned. His expression made it clear that, as far as he was concerned, that was enough of an explanation for anyone.
Ambassador Lelys disagreed. “We can only theorize from recovered and reconstructed information, but most likely it was one of our Ancestors’ deliberate policies concerning colonies. As far as possible, new daughterworlds were kept in ignorance of older ones, and more established daughterworlds were not informed of new foundations, which was an easier task.” “Yes, but why?” Counsellor Troi asked. “What did the motherworld hope to gainT’ “Independence.” Hara’el spoke up, and most of the people at the conference table did a double take, as if they’d forgotten his presence even though he was standing right in front of them. “If you believe that your settlement is isolated from all others, if you don’t even know that there are any others, you will develop self-reliance because to your mind, you have no other choice.” “And diversity,” Legate Valdor put in. “Nothing evolves, nothing progresses without diversification, not even a CUlture. Our Ancestors, in their wisdom, realized this. If every daughterworld were a clone of her sisters, then any cataclysm capable of wiping out one would be able to destroy the rest. But if the daughterworlds were forced to evolve separately, then in time of crisis, one colony might have developed the resources to save her sisters.” “Except for the fact that no daughterworld was aware that her sisters even existed,” Ambassador Lelys amended. “I am afraid that our Ancestors’ motives were far less noble: If the daughterworlds couldn’t possibly rely on each other, they would have to rely on S’ka’rys. Until a colony was secure enough to be totally self-supporting, there would be no chance of the motherworld losing control of it.” Legate Valdor shot out of his seat, the pendants in his topknot clattering loudly. “I will not allow myself to be subjected to this—this pollution! You may defame the Ancestors