Part 16 (2/2)
”It is not a suggestion. It is a fact.”
Dare frowned. ”The people don't act drugged,” he said. ”They use intoxicants in their leisure time, but we've seen no signs of slowed production, increased industrial accident rate-anything to indicate that workers are chemically dependent.”
”It is not that kind of drug,” said Data. ”Nalavia is using a chemical which opens people's minds to hypnotic suggestion. Then she uses the video broadcasts to ... program them. The drug also suppresses strong negative emotions. It does not impair judgment or coordination; in fact, it makes people more efficient at their work because they are not distracted by anger or fear or grief.”
”Or love,” Yar murmured. Data glanced at her with the faintly puzzled frown that told her he was storing a response he did not comprehend for later a.n.a.lysis.
Data continued, ”Intoxicants are sold freely, but under strict government control. They appear to be used to supply a subst.i.tute for the suppressed emotions.”
”Yes,” said Yar. ”It's very easy to turn to chemical happiness when there is no other kind in your life.”
Rikan was sitting up very straight now. ”But how do we fight this?” he asked. ”How do we stop it? Mr. Data, you have revealed Nalavia's secret, for which I thank you heartily. Now how can we stop Nalavia?”
Dare smiled his wolfish smile. ”All we have to do,” he said, ”is subst.i.tute something innocuous for Nalavia's suppressant! Once it clears everyone's system-”
Data stared at nothing, nodding slowly and smiling faintly as he accessed the necessary information. ”- they will have a sudden release of emotions. All that they should have felt during the time their emotions were suppressed will come on them at once.”
”And that,” said Rikan firmly, ”is when we attack!”
Chapter Nine.
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER DATA was intrigued with the warlord Rikan and his castle. The structure was genuinely old, yet outfitted with the latest technology, both for comfort and for defense. The computerized surveillance system was new, part of the service supplied by Darryl Adin, aka Adrian Dareau, aka the Silver Paladin.
Data found it confusing-hardly a new feeling in his life among humans-to be a prisoner, yet to be treated as a colleague, even a friend. Having accessed all the Enterprise Security files except the ones cla.s.sified as ”eyes only” to Tasha and her Security staff, he knew all about Darryl Adin. Knew facts, that is. The man did not seem to match the facts.
Someone capable of selling out the Federation, of arranging an attack that would endanger Starfleet trainees and personnel-and which in fact had resulted in the deaths of a number of them-ought to appear more of a hardened criminal. Not that Data's experience with hardened criminals was all that extensive; Cyrus Redblock and Felix Leech had been created by the holodeck program, after all, and based on characters from fiction.
Nevertheless, Data had pa.s.sed the required psychology courses at the Academy. The activities of the Silver Paladin did not correspond with the profile of a criminal. If anything, except for the fact that he charged for his services, they seemed closer to the exploits of the legendary Robin Hood. A man falsely convicted, so the stories claimed, of the same crime of treason.
There was, however, another possibility: if, in a moment of weakness, an otherwise honest Adin had succ.u.mbed to the lure of riches; if, as some evidence at his trial suggested, he had been led to believe that the Starbound could be taken without loss of life; then his current pattern of activity could be a combination of remorse and the same greed that had led him to deal with the Orions.
And the evidence at Adin's trial had been conclusive.
Data's speculations could have no bearing on his actions: Adin was a fugitive from both Starfleet and the Federation, and Data's duty was to arrest him-next time, preferably, when he had some chance to take him in.
He was annoyed that he hadn't fooled Tasha into thinking his action naivete, especially as it had not accomplished his intention of making Rikan reconsider the man he had hired. Either the warlord already knew Adin's background, or else did not care, considering the reputation of ”Adrian Dareau.”
Data was concerned about Tasha Yar. She was the consummate Starfleet officer, her first priority the safety of the Enterprise and its crew, her first duty to Starfleet. If she was sometimes overeager, that was preferable to slackness. Yet now she had given her word not to escape.
But so have I, Data reminded himself. Adin's men had, after all, gone inside Nalavia's palace to capture Tasha, and then carried her off in her own shuttle. They were ruthlessly efficient, and Data had no doubt that they would either find an escape-proof cell to lock him in, or else disable him. The Vulcanoid, Sdan, had expressed a desire to ”examine” Data, in terms which left no doubt that he meant to take him apart to see how he functioned. Limited freedom was certainly better than being locked away or incapacitated.
Furthermore, these people opposed Nalavia. Data had no doubt now that Rikan and Adin were the lesser evil; it was simply disturbing that Tasha had apparently decided that before the crucial evidence was in.
For the time being, Data joined in the plans to remove Nalavia's drug from the water supply. Sdan, once he accepted that Data was not a toy to be dismantled, worked with the android through the night, transferring the manufacturing and distribution information from Data's memory banks to the very fine computer system in the strategy room.
”I do not know why Nalavia has such an out-of-date system,” Data commented.
”Serves 'er purposes,” Sdan replied, ”an' it's Trevanbuilt-come with the palace. Besides, she can't get one of these babies legally. This is the latest Federation technology, traded only to Federation planets, not even to allies.”
”Then where did you get it?” Data asked. ”Or should I not ask?”
”Built it!” Sdan replied. ”Me an' Poet got no record in the Federation. Barb or Pris, neither, come to that, but if you can't use it to bust somebody's head, they're not interested. So Poet an' me, we hit the tech expos, then come back and build our own versions of the latest the Federation has to offer.”
”Inside the Federation, that would be illegal,” Data pointed out.
”Ain't inside the Federation, are we?”
”You could make a great deal of money by selling this technology to the Ferengi, the Orions, the-”
”Look, Computer Brain, if all we wanted was money we'd just steal it! h.e.l.l of a lot easier and safer. Ain't you twigged yet we're not some gang of common criminals?”
”And if you did sell the technology,” Data pointed out, ”it would not be exclusively yours, to provide to your ... clients.”
Sdan grinned. ”True. Y'know, Data, you might have the makings of a devious mind there. Stick around long enough, and we may invite you to join us!”
”I think you are hoping that if I stay long enough, you will come upon an excuse to take me apart.”
Sdan looked him up and down with a solemn nod. ”Yeah. There's always that.”
Tasha Yar spent a second night in the ”blue room,” but this time her door was not barred. In the morning, dressed in comfortable trousers and tunic, she found the same informality as yesterday at the breakfast table, people arriving when they pleased, leaving when they had finished eating, only Rikan there for the entire time.
The warlord appeared in the strategy room sometime after Yar joined the growing group before the viewscreens. She already knew Data, Dare, Sdan, Poet, Barb, and Aurora. Now she met Tuuk and Gerva, a mated pair of Tellarites; Jevsithian Drominiger, a Grokarian seer, and Pris Shenkley, a human woman who built expert weapons systems. The rest of Dare's ”gang.”
Jevsithian was archetypal: just about Yar's height, he was so old and wrinkled that a first glance could not identify his species. His hooded gray robe hid so much of him that only his eight-fingered hands, looking like nothing so much as spiders at the ends of his sleeves, provided the clue to what he was.
Yar had heard of Grokarians, but never met one before. Some of them were said to have the gift of prophecy, although she recalled that the Starfleet manual on species with so-called psi powers explained it as ”a wild talent, the ability to calculate probabilities within the s.p.a.ce/time continuum.”
Jevsithian turned to her, eyes almost hidden in wrinkled folds, and announced, ”You are the one with whom it changed.”
”Hmmm?” Yar found the impression of staring into black holes unnerving.
”Your presence draws all possible futures into one. The Silver Paladin will win all, and yet lose. The bright knight of darkness transcends to legend.”
”Hey-none o' that doomsayin'!” Sdan protested.
”Doom is but fate,” Jevsithian replied, ”and the fates of all living beings are linked.” He withdrew to a chair in one corner, apparently unconcerned with the plans the others were making. Or, thought Yar, maybe he already knows everything we're going to do.
”Tasha.” Data's voice drew her away from her contemplation of the Grokarian. ”We must talk.”
”Hmm? What about?” she asked, following him away from the cl.u.s.ter of people around the computer.
”About how much aid we should give these people ... if any.”
Of course she should have known Data would not take that final step without careful consideration. Yar felt a sudden sinking feeling. ”Priam IV,” she said.
<script>