Power Hungry Part 4

"Counselor, Commander Data," Picard said, "I would like both of you to accompany me to this reception on Thiopa."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you beaming down, Captain," said Riker. "Protocol, Number One. Besides, how hazardous could it be? And you have other responsibilities on Thiopa."

"For which I have to bring Undrun with me," Riker sighed. "I'm afraid so," said Picard. "I have faith in your good judgment and restraint in handling him."

Riker stood and shook his head. "So while I'm taxing my self-restraint, you, Deanna, and Data will get wined and dined like diplomats. I get to tour a warehouse ... Doesn't seem fair somehow." He was already several strides up the ramp toward the turbolift.

"It's not likely to be a sumptuous affair,"

Picard said. "We'll probably eat stew from wooden bowls."

That conjecture prompted a fragment of a grin.

"I hope so."

"Number One-was Riker paused at the open lift doors.

"Sir?"

"Be careful down there. And don't let the irksome Mr. Undrun distract you from making the most useful observations you can. The Federation is relying on us, and I'm relying on you."

Riker nodded. "Understood, Captain."

Riker waited next to the transporter console,.

trying to control his growing impatience as Undrun carefully arranged his hat and fur collar to leave as little bare skin as possible.

"Amba.s.sador Undrun, it's not cold in Bareesh."

"Cold is relative, Mr. Riker."

"Whenever you're ready, sir ..."

After a little more flung of his collar, Undrun finally announced, "I am ready."

"Good. Take this." Riker handed Undrun a filter mask designed to fit snugly over eyes, nose, and mouth.

Undrun held it at arm's length. "And do what with it?" he demanded. "Our sensors report a good deal of air pollution in the area to which we're beaming down. We're not permitted to be transported without adequate protective equipment. If you'd like me to help you-"

"I'm capable of putting on a filter mask, Commander."

Riker backed off a step. "Fine." He put his own mask over his face and stepped up onto the transport45 er platform. Undrun followed, and when they were both set, Riker gave the order. "Energize."

He and Undrun s.h.i.+mmered back inffbeing on a vast concrete dock on a bank of the Eloki River-or what was left of the river. Though the opposite bank was at least a kilometer away, the river itself was just a weak trickle running diffidently down a muddy midstream channel. The rest of the riverbed was now hard and dusty, baked and blistered by the sun. Barges lay embedded in dry mud like fossilized creatures trapped by a world gone environmentally mad.

Riker immediately realized that it was a good thing they'd worn the masks. All around them, industrial stacks loomed overhead, spewing gaseous and particulate filth into the mustard-colored sky. The sun glowered down through the smog, a vague pale disk diminished by the veil of poison strangling the planet.

Directly behind them, recessed back from a huge square building, was a vestibule, which, when they ducked into it, turned out to be a sort of airlock.

The outside doors thumped tightly shut, and a red light began flas.h.i.+ng over the inner doors. Hissing pumps sucked out the fumes in the airlock and vented them back outside. The warning light winked off and the inner doors slid aside, permitting entry to a dim corridor built from prefabricated sections. Riker cautiously lifted his mask. The indoor air smelled stale and artificial, but it was breathable. He nodded and Undrun took his own mask off, then carefully replaced his hat.

The corridor led in only one direction. As Riker and Undrun followed it, they glanced through small windows at the cavernous interior of the depot, which 46 extended ten levels above them and five below ground. Some areas were wide open, apparently to allow for storage of ma.s.sive industrial beams and girders. But most of the structure's s.p.a.ce was divided into cantilevered platforms, divisible as needed, depending on what was to be kept there. A variety of containers and crates, some molded of plastic or metal, others made of old-fas.h.i.+oned wood, lay scattered about the warehouse's interior.

The corridor led them to a gla.s.s-walled office warren, where a lone Thiopan sat at a desk and a guard stood just inside the door. The two men wore similar utilitarian uniforms, one-piece and gray, with pockets and simple markings. The guard wore a squared-off helmet and cradled a rifle, which Riker guessed to be some sort of beam weapon.

On his hip was a holstered pistol, and a functional knife was nestled in a shoulder scabbard.

The man at the desk looked up as Riker and Undrun entered, but the guard made no move to stop them. "You must be from the stars.h.i.+p. I'm Chardrai, supervisor of this here palace."

"I'm Commander Riker. This is Amba.s.sador Undrun of the United Federation of Planets Aid and a.s.sistance Ministry."

Chardrai nodded a gruff greeting. He was short and stocky with heavy jowls and grizzled hair and whiskers. "Can I get you a drink to clear your mouth of the taste of that soup we call air?"

"We're fine; we wore masks. Is it always like that out there?" Chardrai reached into a cabinet behind his desk and popped the top off a bottle. He poured light green liquid into three cracked and grimy mugs. "Today it's 47 a little worse than usual. Weather's been inverted for the past three weeks-traps all the fumes inside. But then, that happens about every other month." He shoved the mugs across the desktop.

"Sorry about the crockery. But the drink's refres.h.i.+ng. Guaranteed."

Riker wiped the rim with his fingers and took a sip. Whatever the stuff was, it tasted mercifully cool and tangy.

Undrun merely stared at the cup with a curled lip. "Totally unsanitary," he muttered.

"Maybe so," Chard rai said. "But not compared to what's outside." He ended with a chuckle that sounded more fatalistic than humorous.

Undrun placed the mug back on the desk.

"No, thank you, Supervisor."

"Suit yourself." Chardrai lifted Undrun's mug in one large hand and poured the contents back into the bottle. Then he sipped his own. "Good stuff, though."

"I'm sure." Undrun surveyed the room they were in-rusting corrugated walls, chipped concrete, service pipes crusted with corrosion at their joints, duct tubes disconnected and hanging from the ceiling. "Is the rest of the facility in as poor condition as this office?"

"Hey, now," Chardrai growled, "this isn't no hotel. It's a warehouse."

Undrun aimed a chilly look at him. "We have pure, disease-free foodstuffs, seeds, plants, and medicines to transport down here, Mr. Chardrai. I will not have them stored in a vermin-infested bacteria incubator."

The supervisor roused himself from his chair. "Now you wait a-was "Excuse me," Riker said, clamping a hand on Undrun's shoulder and steering him toward a far corner. "We're not exactly getting off on the right foot here, Amba.s.sador Undrun."

"Oh, and I suppose that's my fault?"

"You didn't even give the man a chance to-was "To 1e11 me that this"-he fluttered a hand around the office-"is not indicative of the way they run this so-called storage depot? I have a responsibility to-was "To deliver your cargo and let the Thiopans do with it what they choose. And if they choose to let rats eat it, we've got no say in the matter."

"I'm sorry, Commander Riker, but that's not how I operate."

"You'll operate according to the standards Captain Picard and I establish. And going out of your way to offend these people is not-was "You can't censor me. I have a mandate to conduct this mission in any way I see fit." Undrun shook loose and spun away from Riker, who towered at least two and a half feet over him. "And if you lay a hand on me ever again, I'll see to it that-was Chardrai slammed Undrun's rejected cup down on his desk, sending ceramic shrapnel across the room and stopping the argument cold. "You haven't even seen the facilities. I'll show you around, and then we'll talk about whether this place is clean enough for your cargo containers."

"It's not only cargo containers," Undrun snapped. "I want to see where my A-and-A personnel will be housed when they beam down."

Chardrai's eyes darted from Riker to Undrun, and his voice rose in alarm. "Hold on there.

n.o.body told me anything about people coming down here.

If you think you're going to send down some kind of police squad to meddle in-was Undrun waved his arms angrily. "n.o.body is meddling in anything. We're here at your government's request to save Thiopa from starvation and drought. But I can't do anything for you people under these conditions."

"I've got no authorization to let anybody-was A m.u.f.fled explosion shook the entire building.

Office windows cracked and chunks of ceiling insulation and ductwork fell in on them, as a fine dust coated the room.

The guard turned reflexively toward the door, pointing his weapon at " a lethal angle.

Supervisor Chardrai grabbed his communications headset, a sim-ple wireless device, and jammed the receiver plug into his ear. "What the h.e.l.l is going on?"

An agitated voice shouted back over a deskmounted speaker. "Explosion on the river side! Took out most of a wall. Everything's on fire!" "This is Chardrai," he yelled into the mike arm. "All fire-control equipment to the river wall-now!"

The supervisor and his guard raced out of the office, Riker and Undrun following. As they ran back through the corridor, Riker felt acrid smoke searing his nostrils and throat. Rounding a corner, they were staggered by the heat of a raging blaze licking at the twisted wreckage of the warehouse wall. Whatever caused the fire had erupted inside and blown the metal wall outward. Men in protective coats and hard hats were already fighting the fire with foam and water. But the heat forced everyone else to retreat.

Riker couldn't stop coughing as he staggered back to the relative haven of Chardrai's no-longer-sealed office. He did his best to cover his mouth and nose, 50 but he had to breathe, and every short gasp felt as if someone had sprayed acid into his lungs. Chardrai and the guard stumbled in after him-and then he realized that Undrun hadn't made it.

Keeping low to avoid the smoke, Riker searched until he found Undrun crumpled on the metal grate floor. He scooped the amba.s.sador up in a fireman's carry and made his way back to the office as quickly as he could. Inside, he dumped the amba.s.sador on the floor and fell to his knees, his chest heaving.

He tried to talk, but that only brought on a racking cough.

He bent over, trying to recover.

Three guards wearing filter masks bustled past him carrying something, which they threw into a chair. Riker wiped his burning eyes and saw that it was a raw-boned Thiopan wearing frayed work-crew coveralls. One sleeve was torn and his face was battered and bleeding.

"Who is this?" Chardrai demanded.

"The terrorist responsible for the bombing," said one of the outside guards. "We caught him trying to escape."

"A Sojourner," Chardrai said, his voice taut with fury.

The captive made no reply. Chardrai encouraged him with a backhand blow across the face. The man's head snapped back, then lolled on one shoulder. "How did you get in? How many others helped you?"

"They usually work in threes," said the chief guard. "We think the other two got away."

Chardrai grasped the prisoner's hair and yanked his head back. "You're a traitor-and you're a dead man."

The prisoner's b.l.o.o.d.y lips widened into a grotesque grin. "You're a man of few words, Supervisor Chardrai."

"How do you know my name?"

"We know a lot of things. You people haven't figured out yet that we're smarter than you?"

Chardrai struck him again, opening a gash over his right eye. "If you're so smart, how come you got caught?"

"I'm expendable. My seven friends got away."

"Seven?" Chardrai roared at the guards. "You said two1"

"He's lying," said the fl.u.s.tered guard. "He's a Sojourner. They're born lying."

Supervisor Chardrai let go of the prisoner's head, but the Sojourner kept it upright, apparently out of spite as much as anything else, Riker thought.

"It's not treason," said the prisoner, pausing to spit blood, "to fight against a tyrant who's sworn to destroy my people, a tyrant whose insane policies are going to destroy Thiopan civilization. You can kill me-was "I will,"

Chardrai snarled. "You can count on that."

"comb you can't kill what we stand for. The people hear us-and they will fight with us. Only by returning to the old ways can we save our world from Stross."

"I've heard enough pollution out of you." Chardrai backhanded the man again, stunning him. "Kill him,"

he told the guards.

The chief guard looked concerned. "We've got orders to interrogate all Sojourner captives."

"I just did. This man won't tell us anything."

"What should we do with the body?"

"I don't care." Chardrai paused and seemed to reconsider. "No, wait-leave his body where his friends will find it."

Riker stood unsteadily. "I don't like anything I've seen here, Supervisor. I'm concerned about bringing those supplies down here."

"The main part of this place wasn't damaged, Commander. We can still fit those supplies in. Guaranteed."

"I'll have to talk to Captain Picard about that."

And a great many other things, Riker added silently.

He stepped over to Undrun's unconscious form and tapped his communicator. "Riker to Enterprise-two to beam up. And have a medical team standing by."

It hadn't taken long for Picard to review the files on Thiopa. There wasn't that much information there. A fairly primitive world with the good fortune-or bad, depending on one's point of view-to be located in a sector in which several small and large powers had taken an interest.

Picard mulled over the bare facts as he got ready to beam down for the Thiopan anniversary feast.

The Nuarans had played Mephistopheles and found Sovereign Protector Ruer Stross to be a more than willing Faust. And Thiopa had clearly benefited from the resultant pact. Life was, no doubt, more comfortable for most people, thanks to the obvious benefits of modern technology. But just as obviously, there had been a debit side to this soul-selling business, as there usually was.

Correction-as there always was.

Picard's ruminations were interrupted by the 53 intercom tone followed by Dr. Kate Pulaski's voice over his cabin speaker.

"Captain Picard, please report to sickbay."

"What is it, Doctor?"