Unification - Jeri Taylor [37]
He took a sip and, as he did, looked up to see that the soldiers had been looking at them; when he glanced up, they quickly turned their heads.
Picard took another swallow of the distasteful liq-uid, and then said quietly to Data, “We can’t stay here long.”
“We may not have to,” Data answered. “Direct your view to the far corner. Is that not Pardek?”
The bowl to his lips, Picard shifted his glance in the direction Data had indicated. There, just having entered the area, was a round-faced man in a brown cloak, moving to talk with several people clustered together. He had the same kindly visage as the man they had seen on the Barolian tape.
“I believe you’re right,” said Picard. He set down the bowl and concentrated on watching Pardek. But he heard Data’s voice in his ear. “Perhaps you should appear to enjoy your soup.”
He turned and realized that the foot soldiers were staring at them again. With a subtle show of enjoy-ment, Picard lifted the bowl and drank deeply. As he swallowed the slightly gelatinous broth, he noted that it was undoubtedly a far easier task for Data to feign enthusiasm for this dreadful mixture. He realized he’d better stop thinking about it or he might not be able to finish it.
Uneasily, he noticed that the foot soldiers had moved into the food center and were now standing only a few meters behind them, talking easily. Picard kept his eyes on Pardek, who now bid farewell to his colleagues and began to move further on down the street.
Picard and Data unceremoniously put down their bowls and turned to move after him.
But the soldiers were right there, blocking their way, disruptors drawn. “Do not move,” said one.
Picard was aware that the patrons of the food court had drawn imperceptibly away, heads down, ignoring the confrontation as though it weren’t happening. “What is it?” demanded Picard. “You’ve made a mistake.”
“Quiet,” said the other soldier, his voice menacing. “Come with us.”
Strong hands grabbed them and shoved them up the street, and within minutes they were sitting inside an antigrav pod, streaking along the labyrinthine streets of Dartha, toward a fate that Picard was sure would be unpleasant.
Picard’s sense of alarm was heightened when he realized the soldiers’ vehicle was taking them out of the city. This did not portend well. The proconsul’s secret security forces were known for their ability to extract information from spies, and it seemed not unreasonable that there were particular locations for such activities. Captain K’Vada’s dire warning flashed uncomfortably through Picard’s mind.
When they disembarked at the mouth of a cave, his dark suspicions grew stronger. The soldiers prodded them into a tunnel lit at intervals by the intense white light of kekogen lamps. Picard knew that, within the bowels of this cave, one could scream for days on end and never be heard except by those whose ministrations he suffered.
The soldiers pushed them down a ramp, at the bottom of which was a subterranean chamber of some size. There was a small group of Romulans assembled in the room, and Picard noted briefly that they seemed to be civilians; that seemed anomalous.
“Wait here,” said the soldier gruffly.
“For what?” asked Picard, hoping the challenge would help to still the heightened beating of his heart.
But there was no answer. The soldiers watched them carefully, disruptors still aimed; the civilians regarded them curiously.
Then there was a sudden movement at the top of the ramp, and everyone in the vaulted chamber turned toward it.
Pardek strolled down the ramp, his cheerful face somehow out of place in these dark surroundings. “Welcome to Romulus, Captain Picard.”
Picard’s mind reeled, embracing the possibilities. He didn’t want to speak before he had his bearings