Part 9 (1/2)
DUST WAS BEING driven around the exposed areas of the old city by a las.h.i.+ng wind when Zorn's a.s.sistant bowed Picard, Riker and Troi into Zorn's office. The gusts rattled the windows and forced the yellow-brown powder through even the finest openings.
Although the wind-driven dust had always been a part of his life, it still made Zorn irritable and edgy. The yellow pall it cast over the city depressed him. He had been prepared to be most gracious to his visitors until he saw the Betazoid woman with the captain and First Officer Riker. The information on Federation planets and races he had been given by Starfleet had detailed the telepathic talents of Betazoids. Was she a trap set to catch him?
His greeting to them was formal, but somewhat abrupt. Riker noticed both that and the fact that Zorn made no attempt to shake hands. He flicked a look at Picard, who did not realize it was out of the ordinary. Zorn covered it with an offer of coffee, of juices, of pastries, anything they would like-all of which were politely refused.
Zorn settled behind his desk opposite his guests and folded his long gray fingers. His back was stiff and upright, and his eyes kept straying to Troi.
”Yes. How may I serve you, Captain?”
”Now that the station is completed, and you have officially offered to open it to Starfleet, I have been ordered to give it a close formal inspection before making final recommendations on acceptance.”
”There would be no objections to that,” Zorn said, with another nervous glance at Troi. ”But I am puzzled by your bringing a Betazoid to this meeting. If her purpose here is to probe my thoughts, sir. ...” Troi leaned forward, smiling rea.s.surance. ”I can sense only strong emotions, Groppler. I am only half Betazoid. My father was a Starfleet officer.”
”I have nothing to hide, of course. The entire station will be open to your inspection, Captain.”
”Mine, and that of my officers,” Picard said pointedly. Zorn nodded, accompanying the gesture with a nervous smile.
”Yes. Of course. And your officers.” ”Good,” Picard said briskly, ”since we admire what we've already seen of your construction techniques. To have built this entire station in the short time you did requires tremendous engineering skill. Starfleet may be interested in your constructing starbases elsewhere.”
”Captain, we are not interested in building other facilities. Especially not on other planets.”
Troi listened to the conversation carefully, studying Zorn's face and body language for clues which she as a trained counselor could interpret. Her senses strained toward him and easily felt his nervousness. Then, at the edge of her mind, she became aware of something else ... something distressing and painful.
”Perhaps Starfleet could use the materials you would sell them,” Picard suggested.
”But they are quite ordinary, Captain. Available on many planets.”
The feeling crept deeper into Troi's mind. Dull pain. Endless. Loneliness. Hopelessness. Dimly, she could hear Riker politely interrupt Picard. She forced her attention back to the men before her.
”If I may, Captain ...?” On the Captain's nod, Riker turned to Zorn. ”Perhaps a trade, Groppler?
Some things you need in return for lending us architects and engineers who can demonstrate your techniques? Or Starfleet would be prepared to accommodate them, pay for their services... .”
”Payment is not an issue, Commander. Bandi do not wish to leave their home world. If Starfleet cannot accept that small weakness, then we will be forced, unhappily, to seek an alliance with someone like the Ferengi, or-”
Troi groaned softly, unable to contain the waves of pain and distress she felt. Picard snapped around toward her instantly. ”Counselor, what is it?”
Troi gathered herself, struggling for composure, steadying her voice. ”Do you want it described here, sir?”
”Yes!” Picard snapped with a look at Zorn. ”No secrets here if we're all to be friends. Agreed, Groppler?”
Zorn had become increasingly tense, his laced fingers almost white under the gray skin. ”We ourselves have nothing to hide.”
Troi moaned again, hit by another wave of emotion. ”Pain ... pain, loneliness ... terrible loneliness, despair... .” She shook her head. ”I'm not sensing the groppler, sir. Or any of his people. I'm sure of it... but it's something very close to us here.”
”Zorn, the source of this. Do you have any idea?” Picard demanded.
The groppler shot to his feet. ”No! No, absolutely not. And I find nothing helpful or productive in any of this!”
Picard rose to face him. ”That's it? No other comment?”
”What do you expect of us? We built Farpoint Station exactly as you would wish to have it. A base designed to your needs, luxurious even by human standards-everything you could dream of-we did all this to please you! What more can you want from us?”
”Answers,” Picard said coldly. ”You've evaded even our simplest questions about it. We'll adjourn for now while we all consider our positions.” He gestured Troi and Riker to their feet, and they followed him toward the door.
”Captain. The Ferengi would be very interested in a base like this.”
Picard glanced back and seared the administrator with a scathing look. ”Fine. I hope they find you as tasty as they did their past a.s.sociates.”
Picard didn't slam the door, but he didn't need to. He had made his point. The Ferengi were not to be trusted-even if they did not literally consume their a.s.sociates. (And perhaps they did.) The alternatives were a mutual cooperation pact with Starfleet-or maintaining the station alone, hoping trade and pa.s.senger vessels would venture out to this as yet little-mapped sector of the galaxy.
Zorn slumped against his desk, anguished. So much of the Bandi hope was in this station. They were a diminis.h.i.+ng race, able to exist in any comfortable surroundings they desired, but bereft of hope of survival as a race until the Starfleet contact team had beamed down. They had been astonished at the insatiable Bandi curiosity about Starfleet and human s.p.a.cefaring. The Prime Directive had been carefully explained to them, and they understood it; but Zorn had been adamant in his insistence that interference in the Bandi civilization would save it.
Starfleet had to agree that Farpoint would be one of their staging stations. They had to.
Picard angrily strode away from Zorn's office with Riker and Troi hurrying after him. The Captain abruptly stopped after the first heat of the exchange had worn off him, and he turned to Troi.
”Zorn's evading too many questions. Did you feel anything specific from him?”
”Nervous tension ... frustration. Not anger. I think he was feigning that, trying to force your hand. And something else.”
”Yes?”
”He was very agitated when I felt that deep loneliness and pain from somewhere nearby.” Troi looked directly at the captain, troubled. ”I believe he was lying about knowing its source.”
Picard looked up as the chime at his ready room door rang. ”Come,” he called, turning off the viewscreen that had once again displayed a review of everything known about the Bandi and Deneb IV.
Riker stepped in, and Picard gestured to a chair. ”Riker. Sit down.”
”You wanted to see me, sir?”
”Yes. As I indicated to Zorn in our meeting, I want a full inspection of Farpoint Station. A full inspection. You'll lead the away team.”
”Full inspection. Top to bottom, sir? Examine the rivets, seams and girders?”
”You understand me completely. I want the cobwebs counted-if you find any.”
”Yes, sir.” Riker flashed his quick, charming grin. ”We'll even keep a count on any flies in the webs.”
”Who knows? It might very well be significant.”
Riker hitched his chair closer to the desk and leaned toward Picard thoughtfully. ”Do you think Zorn was serious about offering the station to the Ferengi? Economically, it might make sense. Maybe the Ferengi made a better offer than Starfleet for the station after it was built. It would be advantageous for them to have a base in this quadrant.”
Picard shook his head. ”Starfleet didn't offer the Bandi anything in the first place. They built Farpoint because they wanted to. On the other hand, they may be hoping to get an elevated monetary offer from Starfleet by throwing out the threat.”
”If they really mean to turn the station over to the Ferengi Alliance, it could create a problem for Starfleet in this sector. As you said, this quadrant is far out of their territory. That's not rea.s.suring if Zorn wasn't bluffing.”
There was silence between them as they considered the implications of a genuine Ferengi involvement in the area. There were already spearheads of their trade contracts lancing into territory the Federation considered a part of its own. Diplomatic treaties usually followed close behind, and the Federation had found it would look up and discover an entire star system edged into the Ferengi Alliance. Any planets so lost had not been able to return to the Federation.