“Which leaves us stuck,” said Picard. “Either we accuse the Tzenkethi outright of intending to weaponize Outpost V-4—”
“In which case we no doubt find ourselves thrown out of negotiations like Detrek,” said Crusher.
“Indeed. Or else we wait for something else to happen that gives us grounds to make this accusation.”
“While any preparations that are being made to weaponize Outpost V-4 continue unhindered,” Crusher concluded. “Jean-Luc, we have to stop this.”
“How, Beverly? What firm evidence do I have?”
The chime of Dax’s combadge prevented their discussion going any further. They heard her exchange a few brief words, and then she turned back to them, looking serious.
“Captain?” said Picard.
“You know that ‘something else’ we were worried might happen? I think it’s happening. That was my XO. He’s just informed me that our long-range sensors have picked up twelve Tzenkethi merchant ships en route to Venetan space. They’re twelve days from crossing the border and fourteen from arriving at Outpost V-4. Call me suspicious, but I have a feeling that’s the navithium resin on its way.”
“Twelve days before crossing the border,” said Picard. “And slightly more than a fortnight before the Tzenkethi Coalition might have the capability to assemble bioweapons and launch them at Starbase 261. And from there . . .”
Crusher put her hand on his arm. “From there, on into Federation space.”
Week 2
Confrontations
7
FROM:
Civilian Freighter Inzitran, flagship, Merchant Fleet 9
TO:
Ementar Vik Tov-A, senior designated speaker, Active Affairs, Department of the Outside
STATUS:
Estimated time to border: 23 skyturns
Estimated time to destination: 28 skyturns
Instruments indicate that the fleet has been scanned by long-range detectors.
FROM:
Captain Ezri Dax, U.S.S. Aventine
TO:
Admiral Leonard Akaar, Starfleet Command
STATUS OF TZENKETHI FLEET:
ETA at Venetan border: 11 days
ETA at Outpost V-4: 13 days
Picture embassies on red alert. Analysts and policy makers and specialists up to their necks in data and up to their eyeballs in stimulants, trying to see some sort of pattern through the mist. Picture tired and fractious people trying to second-guess what other tired and fractious people are doing. Frightened politicians shouting for answers before they make decisions that are going to have consequences for millions. Picture being the one tasked to come up with the answer. Picture getting it wrong.
The problem is, you can’t know the whole of other people’s minds. You can’t know whether they’re being frank, or dissembling, or clueless, or triangulated somewhere in between. In the end, you have to make a judgment call. Do you believe what they say? Or do you think they’re lying? What do you do when your allies are causing as much trouble as your enemies?
Whom can you trust?
• • •
At last, after several hours spent (presumably) in conference with her government, Detrek indicated her readiness to speak to her allies. She came to the private suite in the Hall of Assembly that the Federation delegates were using as their conference room. The fountain was working now—a steady, gentle bubble of water that Crusher could only hope would have a soothing effect on the quarreling allies.
Detrek was not late for this meeting, Crusher noted. She arrived at the Federation suite on the dot, her aides and Dygan following anxiously behind her. Crusher gave the unhappy-looking glinn a small wave, her hand close to her body. Dygan returned the gesture and gave her a rather sad smile.
Detrek didn’t waste any time getting down to business, nor did she seem particularly contrite about blowing their negotiations out of the water.
“My government is very clear that this insult is unacceptable. To refuse to speak to us? Completely unreasonable!”
“Nonetheless,” Picard said mildly, “the Venetans do seem to believe that the possible presence of spies among them is a grave insult in turn. Perhaps some form of words can be found that will allow the Venetans to feel that they have received an apology—”
“An apology?” Detrek shook her head vehemently. “Captain, we are the injured parties here, not the Venetans!” She eyed her colleagues one by one. “You are our allies. What do you intend to do about this?”
“Negotiator Detrek,” said Jeyn, rather impatiently for a diplomat, Crusher thought, “what do you imagine we are able to do? You seem to have gone out of your way to offend our hosts at every opportunity!”
Ouch, thought Crusher. The water of the fountain bubbled blithely in the silence.
Ilka shifted uneasily in her chair. “I think what Ambassador Jeyn means to say is that we have not, perhaps, presented the most united front—”
“I know what Ambassador Jeyn meant to say,” Detrek replied. “That the only surprise is that the Venetans didn’t throw me out of the room sooner? That’s it, isn’t it, Jeyn?”
Picard lifted his hand. “Negotiator, please! We achieve nothing by quarreling among ourselves other than to serve the purposes of those who seek to sow discord among us. You have come to us because we represent governments allied to your own. I agree that nothing is gained by your absence from these discussions, and I would prefer to have you alongside us. We all hope for a peaceful resolution to this crisis, and we hope that this is your desire too.”
Crusher leaned forward. “We’re all on the same side, Negotiator. We all want to do what’s best. We want to strengthen our alliances, not strain them. What do you want from us?”
“A show of loyalty, Doctor,” Detrek said. “A statement, in the strongest possible terms, that our friends in the Federation and Ferengi Alliance find this insult to their ally unacceptable, and they require our return to the negotiating table.”
Frankly, Crusher thought, I think she doesn’t have a chance. A quick glance at her husband suggested that he was thinking much the same. But he just sighed and tugged down his uniform.
“We’ll certainly do our best, Detrek,” Picard said.
Detrek slowly exhaled. Perhaps the sound of running water was beginning to have the desired effect.
“I appreciate, Captain,” Detrek said in a much calmer voice, “all that you have done for me throughout this mission.”
“Thank you,” said Picard. “Now, these Tzenkethi ships approaching the Venetan border near Outpost V-4 are a further worry, but they may also provide us with the means of applying pressure to the Venetans. As long as our questions about what exactly the Tzenkethi are delivering to Outpost V-4 remain unanswered, we can try to insist upon your continued participation in our discussions.” He frowned. “But don’t expect miracles, Detrek.”
Which was, Crusher thought, exactly how Jean-Luc would say: Not a chance.
• • •
Rusht agreed to meet Picard and Crusher in the atrium in the Hall of Assembly, where the Federation mission had materialized only a couple of days before. It was public space, with people passing through all the time, and a small family was sitting nearby when the three of them took their seats. Three parents and a little girl who did not look much older than René. She stopped playing with her blocks to stare curiously at the Federation officers. Crusher gave her a little wave.
“Hey, sweetie!” she said. The little girl frowned, and then gave Crusher a gorgeous grin. One of her parents, seeing the exchange, put a protective arm around her. All three adults listened to the conversation that followed quite openly. Jean-Luc would surely prefer this meeting to be in private, Crusher thought. But does Rusht even have a private office? Do all such sensitive meetings happen in such public places?
“These medical supplies en route to Outpost V-4,” Picard said quietly. “They are a grave concern to us—”
Rusht tutted. “Heldon has explained this t
o Dax,” she said. “They are necessary for the Tzenkethi stationed there. I do not understand why you keep returning to this, Picard. Again and again we’ve said that there is nothing suspicious about the cargo these ships are carrying. Each time you come back to this matter, you are, in effect, calling me a liar—”
Crusher, recalling Dax’s notes on her interactions with Heldon, and how an almost naïve honesty seemed the best approach, said quickly, “We have your assurances, yes. But we’re still afraid. Some of the resins associated with these solvents are particularly dangerous for humans—”
Rusht waved her hand impatiently, angrily, even. “Yes, yes, this too has been said, Crusher. I was puzzled the first time it was said, and when I understood the implication, I was horrified. What kind of people do you think we are? Do you think that we would use or permit the use of bioweapons against other species? We are not monsters, Crusher!”
The little girl watching opened her mouth into a wide oh! She turned and buried her face in the lap of one of her parents. Her parent picked her up and cuddled her, shushing her, and giving the humans an admonishing look.
Crusher tried to keep her voice soft. “I know that, Rusht. But we have responsibilities—”
“And,” Rusht continued over her, “we have not yet received a satisfactory explanation from the Cardassians of what Detrek meant by her ‘alternative sources.’ We reject utterly the claim that the base is being turned over to military use. Until we are shown the evidence that Detrek claims to have, and receive a full explanation as to how she obtained it, I cannot see how we could welcome the Cardassians back to the table—”
The portable comm on Rusht’s lap buzzed. She read the message and then looked at Crusher and Picard. Her face was very serious. “We must return to the hall. Alizome informs me that she’s received some urgent news and wishes to address the gathering.”
What could possibly have happened now? Crusher wondered, as the three of them made their silent and somber way back to the hall. Why are we constantly being caught out like this?
The mood in the hall was equally subdued. The gathering seemed to sense that something was afoot, and Rusht’s expression only seemed to confirm it. She took her place in silence, and then Alizome Vik Tov-A rose to address the company.
She was an impressive sight as she uncoiled her strong and radiant body and placed her hands upon the table. Her voice was sonorous and yet seemed to Crusher like the clang of a warning bell.
“My friend Rusht,” she said. “Thank you for gathering all our visitors together.” She glanced over at Detrek’s conspicuously empty seat. “Almost all our visitors . . .”
Ouch again, thought Crusher. Really, Alizome was in danger of showing the Venetans how much she enjoyed this.
“I have been in communication with my government,” Alizome said. “It is my unfortunate task to inform you that a spy has been arrested on Tzenketh, in one of our major cities, engaged—as these people often are—in criminal activities designed to undermine the security of our people. The spy, I am sorry to say, is a Federation citizen.”
Crusher’s heart skipped a beat and then went out to the unlucky agent. She heard, rather than saw, Jean-Luc take a deep and steadying breath. The hush around the room was now almost tangible.
“This is a calculated insult to our people,” Alizome said. “On behalf of our most exalted and beloved Rej, the beneficent Autarch himself, I must register our deep disgust and dismay at such a shocking revelation.”
Oh, come off it, Alizome, Crusher thought impatiently. You’re laying this on far too thick. You know that we have spies on your world; we know that you have spies on our world. So why this performance?
But even as Crusher thought this, the whole espionage business suddenly seemed like utter nonsense to her. Why do we do this? Why do we carry on with these games? It’s a kind of delusion. We pretend that we don’t watch them; they pretend that they don’t watch us. And when we discover each other’s spies, we feign outrage. If René did this, I would tell him how silly he was being, how phony. When he got a little older, I’d tell him he was a hypocrite . . .
Crusher glanced across the table at Ilka, expecting her too to be rolling her eyes. But Ilka’s head was turned away from her. She was looking intently at Rusht. Crusher shifted in her seat to be able to look at her too.
It was a revelation. From Rusht’s appalled expression, Crusher could see that the Venetan woman was genuinely shocked by this news.
But what did she expect? Crusher thought in bewilderment. All right, so perhaps the news of the arrest came out of the blue, but she must have known that there would be Federation spies on Tzenketh. There’ll be Cardassian spies, Klingon spies, Ferengi spies, who the hell knows what other spies! Not to mention all the ones from the Typhon Pact powers, keeping an eye on their allies. Don’t we all know this about each other? Why is this news such a shock to her?
A murmur was rising among the Venetans. Rusht rapped on the table for silence.
“This is very alarming news,” she said. “I hardly know how to respond.” She sat back in her chair, and the rest of the room waited silently to hear what she had to say. Crusher caught Ilka’s eye. Yes, the Ferengi was thinking the same thing: Why this amount of shock? Why is Rusht so surprised?
At last Rusht spoke. Her voice was very quiet, as if she had been shaken. “All that I can do for the moment is express my bewilderment that anyone would choose to behave in such a way.”
A gentle ripple of approval rose throughout the room. Rusht seemed to take heart from it. “I have to wonder why any person, or group of people, would choose to organize themselves in such a corrosive and counterproductive fashion. The idea that all the time we have been speaking, a Federation spy has been at work on the homeworld of our Tzenkethi friends is repulsive to me. Deeply repulsive.”
“To me too, Rusht,” Alizome said softly (and now Ilka did roll her eyes, although Alizome’s words were evidently playing well with all the Venetans).
“Coupled with my belief that there has been a Cardassian spy on Venetan territory this whole time too,” Rusht said, “I cannot see what can productively be said here, with such duplicity at work. I think it’s only right that I close this session for the day.”
She rose slowly from her seat. To Crusher’s eyes, she seemed very old indeed, an ancient person who had not believed that the universe could hold any more surprises for her and had been unpleasantly proved wrong. Crusher had wild thoughts of Tzenkethi poisoners—but her long medical experience told her the real cause. Rusht had been profoundly shocked by this news. As the old woman left the room, every single Venetan present began to applaud, a furious applause that communicated not only their outrage but also the respect in which they held Rusht and their sense that she had spoken for them all. It was terrifying. We’ve lost them, Crusher thought. We’ve lost them for good.
• • •
Eager to press the case for a second visit to the medical facility on Outpost V-4, Dax took to the privacy of her ready room and opened a communication channel to Heldon. Bowers came with her. He sat on the opposite side of her desk, out of Heldon’s view but able to hear everything.
Dax had something of a shock when Heldon finally appeared on-screen. The kindly, cheerful woman from their last encounter was gone, replaced by someone remote and angry. Whatever rapport had been established between them had disappeared. The gaps between them were suddenly shown to be immense; their different viewpoints seemed suddenly incommunicable.
“I’m horrifed, Dax,” Heldon said, “at the idea that there might have been Cardassian spies on my world—that there might still be! I’m equally distressed to learn that there are Federation spies on Tzenketh.”
Dax blinked at the screen. But are you? she thought. Are you really? Bowers too looked baffled by Heldon’s reaction. Dax took a deep breath. Honesty: the best policy.
“In that case, I’m not sure what to say to you, Heldon. You know our history. Only twenty years ago, we w
ere at war with them. Now they’ve allied themselves with powers that have long been hostile toward us.”
“Yes, yes, and no doubt they could say the same about you.”
“Well, yes, they could, so let’s think about that. Did you really believe we wouldn’t be trying to find out their intentions toward us? Did you seriously think that we could simply ask and get a straight answer?” She paused, then moved in for the kill: “Surely you realize that the Tzenkethi have been spying on us. Are spying on us.”
Heldon pulled away in disgust. “I haven’t asked Entrigar. I wouldn’t insult him in that way—”
“Don’t bother asking,” Dax said bluntly. “I’m sure he’ll be able to tell you with complete honesty that he knows nothing about any Tzenkethi operatives within the Federation, or within any of the Khitomer powers. I doubt he’s been briefed with such information.”
As she watched Heldon digest this, Dax thought back to the conversation she’d had with Alden the night that the Aventine had been redeployed to Outpost V-4. She took another breath and hoped that this wasn’t pushing too hard. She glanced at Bowers, who nodded his encouragement. Push on. Push harder.
“Allies spy on each other; you know that, Heldon. In all likelihood there’ve been Tzenkethi operatives on your world for some time now. Observing you. Learning about you. Seeding ideas.” She watched Heldon’s face closely. “And doubts.”
“Doubts?”
“Doubts about us.”
Heldon shook her head. “We already had doubts about you, Dax. About your reliability, your trustworthiness.”
“But you were not hostile toward us. Yet somehow what were straightforward doubts—and, yes, I admit, reasonable doubts, given how we failed to continue negotiations with you to enter into the Federation—somehow these reasonable doubts have turned into something that’s brought you to the edge of outright war with us—”
Heldon recoiled at the word. “We have no interest in war!”
“Perhaps not. But war might have an interest in you.”
Star Trek: Typhon Pact: Brinkmanship Page 10
