What's Past_ The Future Begins (Book 2) - Michael Schuster [9]
Scotty was puzzled. “I’m sorry to hear that, lassie. What’s wrong?”
“It appears something she ate on Kropasar disagreed with her,” said Piñiero.
Scotty nodded. “Probably those meatballs from Vega. I always thought Vegan food was disgustin’.”
Piñiero shrugged. “Dr. Ezeafulukwe isn’t sure exactly what did it yet.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, lassie, but I don’t know what this has to do with me. I can’t do much more than offer my sympathy. I’m an engineer, not a doctor.”
“Admiral Nechayev was scheduled to meet with some members of the Witenagemot tonight,” said Piñiero. “She has selected you to take her place.”
“Me?” Scotty asked, astonished. “Surely one of the diplomats would be more suited for the task?” He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want him to talk to a group of politicians. “Send that nice Morrow lad.”
“Captain Scott, the admiral explicitly instructed that you go in her stead. The meeting’s at 2100 hours. I’m sending the location of the meeting to you now. Send me your padd’s network address; sealed orders will be encoded into it that you will be able to access at the appropriate time.”
Scotty sighed. “Aye, aye. Tell the admiral I’ll be there.” He keyed his padd’s address into the terminal.
Piñiero smiled. “Thank you, Captain Scott. I’m sure the admiral will be most grateful.” Her image blinked away, and Scotty checked the chronometer to realize he had a couple hours before he was due back on Kropasar.
“What’s she playin’ at?” he asked himself. Well, he’d know soon enough. In the meantime, he had better replicate himself a nice, strong Mythran coffee. It wouldn’t do to doze off while he listened to some politician natter on.
Scotty materialized in an empty corridor in the Kropaslin Curia. The lights flicked on in response to his presence. Checking his padd, he determined the room he was headed for was a little bit down the hall.
Damn and blast, why am I doing this? He’d been thinking for almost two hours, and had yet to come up with a reason why he would be the best replacement for Admiral Nechayev at a meeting with some alien politicians.
He reached the door, and he tapped the control on the wall next to it, causing it to slide open. Inside the room were seven Kropaslin gathered around a large round table. The table was mostly featureless gray metal, except for some computer terminals on the edges and a white ring in the center. As he stepped across the threshold, the door slid shut behind him with a clink he recognized as the activation of an electronic lock.
“Take a seat, Captain Scott,” said one of the Kropaslin. Scotty recognized him as Thane Bendalion Iamor, the small fellow Nechayev had forced him to speak to briefly that morning.
The chair closest to the door was empty; Scotty sat himself down in it. There was a small computer terminal embedded in the table in front of him; it appeared to be one of the most recent models to come out of the design facilities here on Kropasar. “Why am I here, lad? Why am I meetin’ with your government?”
“We are not the government,” replied Iamor. “Not anymore, that is. As I mentioned to you this morning, I am the leader of the Agreement Party. High Cyning Forecic is a member of the Consensus Party; they currently lead Kropasar.”
“I don’t understand what all your political wheelings and dealings have to do with me.” Scotty shifted in his chair; it had been designed for the unusual Kropaslin anatomy, and thus was rather uncomfortable to him.
Another Kropaslin, this one a woman, spoke up. “Patience, Captain Scott. We will explain.” Scotty vaguely recognized her as someone he had been introduced to during the day.
Iamor continued. “It was my political party that held power when we applied for Federation membership four years ago. In the intervening time, however, there was an election, and we lost our majority in the Witenagemot, though only just barely.”
“The Consensus Party,” the woman went on, “is somewhat less…tolerant than us. They place stricter qualifications on freedom of speech, open less of their policies to public review,