Unification - Jeri Taylor [35]
But the most desolate component of the city was its people. Dressed in dark, drab clothing, they moved along the streets with heads down, rarely speaking, not even making eye contact. No one seemed in a hurry, no one seemed even to have a purpose; clumps of them would stand on corners, congregated for no apparent reason or function. Some spoke in low tones, but there was no sense of joy, of ambition, not even of anger. There was only an overriding pall of grim despair.
Picard knew that life was difficult in Krocton segment, and everyone very much looked out for themselves. They would have to be constantly vigilant; this was not a situation in which they could expect any quarter given. He recalled ancient laboratory experi-ments in which rats were crowded into smaller and smaller cages; eventually, stripped of space, they began eating each other.
He and Data stood quietly for a few moments, inspecting the situation. They attracted no attention by doing so, for many others stood silently in the same way. Picard saw Data gazing ingenuously at the surroundings, and knew that he was memorizing every detail.
Picard drew his cloak about him more closely. He wasn’t cold; in fact, Dartha was exceptionally warm. Perhaps he was trying to keep the insidious spirit of hopelessness from invading his soul.
Proconsul Neral of Romulus stood at the windows of his office and gazed contentedly at the spectacular views. In the foreground, the city spires rose proudly toward the skies; beyond them, dark, jagged mountains erputed in fierce grandeur. Neral loved those mountains, and would spend long moments staring out at them, enjoying their majestic, dreadful beauty. Such views were rare in Dartha; only the upper echelons of the Romulan hierarchy could aspire to them. His office, likewise, was large, and stately, with a quiet elegance. The marble fixtures, the exquisitely tooled leather chairs, the massive, hand-carved desk —all these amenities were comforting to him. He worked hard on behalf of the Romulan people; he felt justified in enjoying the environment in which he did that work.
The door opened and Neral smiled pleasantly at the rotund figure who entered. “Ah, Senator Pardek. You received my message.” “I got here as quickly as I could, proconsul.” Neral smiled and gestured toward the monitor on his desk. “What do you know of this human, Jean-Luc Picard?”
Pardek looked puzzled. “Picard,” he repeated.
“Yes. Have you seen him recently?”
“To my knowledge, I’ve never seen him.”
“I have received intelligence that says he’s on his way here. Perhaps here already,” Neral said.
This produced a truly surprised response. Pardek looked amazed as he responded, “Here—on Romulus?”
“Yes. Curious, isn’t it? I suppose we’d better find out if the report is accurate—or merely rumor.” Neral eyed the old senator briefly, considering his next move. “Circulate his likeness to the security forces,” he ordered. “Remind them that if he is here, he is probably disguised as one of us.”
‘TII see to it,” said Pardek, and scurried toward the door. Relieved that Pardek was taking this disquieting responsibility from him, Neral turned once more to contemplate the stark beauty of the black mountains.
Picard felt as though they had been standing in the same place for an hour, though he knew that only minutes had passed. Time in this dank, dreary place seemed elongated, as though the unpleasant minutes moved more slowly. When Data spoke to him, he felt jolted from a reverie.
“This is definitely the street on which the intelligence scan of Spock and Pardek was taken, sir. Adjusting for the optical distortion, I am able to verify the architectural features.”
“Where were they standing?” asked Picard. That might offer them a clue as to where to start