Star Trek: Brinkmanship (27 page)

Whereas, in comparison, even the smallest of the ships sent to support the
Enterprise
looked huge: mass-machined and heavily weaponized.
We must seem monstrous,
Crusher thought.
Giants swatting at flies, using a sledgehammer to drive in a nail.
There was little to feel proud about in all this.
There’s nothing the Venetans can do to stop us.
But there was the problem: this wasn’t about the Venetans. This was about the Tzenkethi and, behind them, the powers that comprised the Typhon Pact.

The pilots of the six Venetan ships seemed to be coming to the same conclusion as Crusher about their chances. They halted at a safe distance from the border. She listened to Picard reminding them that, for
the moment, no ships could be permitted to pass in or out of Venetan space. The six ships lingered awhile and then turned back.

For now,
Crusher thought sourly, watching the already tiny ships grow smaller. It had been the same all day and, from the reports they’d received, the same along the part of the border being policed by the Cardassians: a few ships would turn up to take the lay of the land, would see the gunships on their borders, and would slink away. If the Venetans had been lukewarm toward the Federation before, they were now set on the path of permanent enmity.

And all this was simply the warm-up. Once the Tzenkethi ships arrived, there would be a pitched battle. Perhaps a couple would get away, fleeing into Venetan space. They would of course be pursued; their cargo could not be allowed anywhere near Outpost V-4. The Tzenkethi would express outrage at the violation of Venetan borders, and more Tzenkethi ships would be sent. That would bring out more ships from the Khitomer Accords in response, and more from the Tzenkethi in response to that . . . and when Crusher followed her line of thought through to the inevitable conclusion, she found she could not bear the horrors that her head was holding.

Her comm channel chimed.
“Bridge to Crusher,
” said Picard. “
I have a message for you from Alizome Vik Tov-A.
”

Crusher nearly fell off her chair. “Excuse me?”

“She asked for you by name. ‘I’ll speak to Doctor
Crusher, and Doctor Crusher alone,’ she said. ‘I will only speak to the ship’s doctor.’ ”

“The
doctor
? Is she sick? No, don’t answer that.”

“It might simply be that speaking to either me or Jeyn would be too humiliating. Especially given the trouble I’ve caused their ships in the past.”

“But to use that word.
Doctor . . .”
Beverly shrugged. “I guess there’s only one thing for it. I’ll have to talk to her. Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do all along?”

“My ready room is at your disposal, of course.”

“No,” Crusher said, after a moment’s thought. “I’ll speak to her here. On my own turf.”

“Very good. I’ll be with you shortly.”

So Crusher spruced up her uniform, brushed her hair, and sat before the companel trying to think statesmanlike thoughts. She thought of Bacco, razor sharp, ready for anything, and of Ilka, who said little and heard a great deal, and of Rusht, dignified and responsible. But her thoughts inevitably settled on Alizome, the mastermind behind all this, perfectly indecipherable and brilliantly controlled—and who had outmaneuvered her twice already.

You can do this,
she told herself.
You have the advantage here. She has come to you. So stay calm. Let her do the talking. Tell her nothing. Stay silent if you have to. Don’t let her make you feel you have to fill in the gaps.

Simple.

Picard entered her office and positioned himself out of sight.

The comm chimed. Picard gave a brisk nod. “Put
her through,” Crusher said, and the UFP logo dissolved to show the beautiful, impassive face of Alizome Vik Tov-A.

Even at range, and through a screen, Alizome’s physical presence was remarkable. A shimmering haze of golden light seemed to surround her, like the halo in the icon of a Byzantine saint, accentuating her superiority and authority. Crusher found herself wondering what the effect must be on other Tzenkethi. Did they become used to these glittering displays? Or could they never forget the powers in their lives? Were they dazzled each and every time, like peasants in the fields looking up to see the lord of the manor on his fine horse in his fine clothes riding by on his way to his fine house?

“Doctor Crusher,”
Alizome said in her melodious voice, “
thank you for agreeing to speak to me
.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was a pause. Looking past Alizome’s glow, Crusher could see the distinctive curves and natural colors with which the Venetans decorated their rooms. It was to Alizome’s credit that she had chosen to remain on Venette throughout the crisis, Crusher thought, although, of course, fleeing the planet at the first sign of danger was hardly the best way to signify support to your allies. She waited for the other woman to speak.

Alizome licked her lips.
How the hell do I interpret that?
Crusher wondered. Did Alizome know that to human eyes that would make her seem predatory? Or was it involuntary? Was she nervous? Crusher knew so
little about the complexities of Tzenkethi body language. She might be missing all kinds of signals that she was supposed to see. How was the Federation—how was
she
—meant to find common ground with the Tzenkethi when so little was understood about something so basic?

I can’t tell. So there’s no point in trying to guess. But she can still speak first.

“How much do you know about my people, Doctor?”

First hurdle passed. “Very little,” Crusher admitted. “You’re the first representative of your people that I’ve met at any length.” She risked a smile. “I’d like to know more.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would.”

Crusher didn’t rise to the bait. From the corner of her eye, she saw Picard give her an approving nod.

“Matters have come to an unfortunate pass here,”
Alizome said eventually.

I’ll say,
thought Crusher,
and then some!

“It’s unfortunate that your government has proved so untrusting and intractable.”

“I agree that lack of trust is unfortunate.”

“And I’m glad that we agree. I am also glad, therefore, to be in a position to make a gesture of friendship toward you. I hope you’ll accept it in the spirit in which it is offered.”

“What gesture, Alizome?”

“I have just been honored to speak to our Autarch, our most exalted and beneficent Rej, Korzenten Rej Tov-AA—”

For a brief moment, Crusher teetered on the verge of bursting out laughing at the string of honorifics. She imagined she was supposed to be impressed by them, but it seemed the Venetans’ influence was rubbing off on her. The Autarch’s titles struck her as overblown.
Korzenten may be the Autarch, but I wonder who’s Lord High Everything Else.
She was struck, too, at how the long list couldn’t help but undermine Alizome’s authority, reminding Crusher that Alizome was ultimately answerable to someone else, in the way that Crusher was answerable to Starfleet Command.
I wonder how pleased the Autarch is at this unfortunate pass in which we find ourselves. I wonder how pleased he is right now with Alizome.
Hope rose cautiously in her heart.
I think we may just have her on the run at last . . .

“Our Autarch has most generously offered to send a deputation to Starbase 261 to inspect the medical supplies that your government has offered.”

Suppressing her delight, Crusher said, “That’s a most interesting and generous offer, Alizome.”

“Thank you, Doctor,”
Alizome said. She too knew that she was backing down.
“However, I do wonder if you understand the
full
nature of its generosity.”

That put Crusher back on the alert. This wasn’t simply the ritualized language that all diplomats used to talk up the case they were making. This, she sensed, was an invitation to understand something important about the Tzenkethi. If she could only work out what it was.

Think, Beverly. Think about everything you’ve read. Think why she asked for you, for the doctor . . .

If the Tzenkethi came to Starbase 261 to talk about medical supplies, she reasoned, they would not be able to leave without giving away
some
information about their physiology. Yet all the specialists’ reports that Crusher had read emphasized again and again their psychological fears about bodily integrity.

Now the significance of this gesture made sense. Inviting Federation doctors to discover more about Tzenkethi biology was offering the Federation access to something sacred, something very protected. It might also avert a war . . .

A war that nobody wanted, and which, Crusher was increasingly coming to believe, the Tzenkethi were not particularly keen to have either.
This might be the first truly nonhostile gesture we’ve ever received from them. I’d even go so far as to say that they’re signaling that they’re willing to trust us.

“Do you understand, Doctor Crusher?”

“Yes,” said Crusher firmly. “Yes, I believe I do. You’re right, Alizome. This is a remarkably generous offer. I’ll present it to the president immediately.” Making sure she didn’t lose sight of the immediate crisis, she added, “But what about your ships? Will they halt their approach to Outpost V-4 while we discuss this offer?”

Alizome smiled and shook her head, as if to say that she wasn’t prepared to give up everything.
“Not yet, Doctor. Our people on Outpost V-4 are still in need
of those emollients. We would be remiss to withhold them. For the sake of their health. You are a doctor. You understand
.”

“I understand. I hope to speak with you again, Alizome,” she said, and cut the comm.

Crusher felt like an electric charge had been put through her. She drew a deep breath. “So that’s the deal,” she said. “We stand down our ships, they reveal a little of their physiology, and in return there’ll be no war.” She glanced at her husband. “I think it’s a good deal.”

He grunted. “Let’s see if Admiral Akaar agrees.”

15

2 DAYS TO WAR . . .

FROM:
A syndic formed to consider rationing

TO:
The people gathered under the Venette Convention

MESSAGE:
Water rationing: Find as many containers as you can and store water. We do not know how long water supplies will remain drinkable. Fill as many containers as possible with drinking water and seal them.

Local sub-syndics for water supply can provide you with vacuum sealers that will help to keep the water clean and fresh. Water sterilization tablets are also available from these sub-syndics.

If a sub-syndic for supplying water has not been formed in your area, please consider forming one with your nearest neighbors. Advice on what to consider follows . . .

COMMANDER BEVERLY CRUSHER
CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER’S LOG
Whatever I expected from this mission, it was not that I would end up playing diplomat in perhaps the most sensitive meeting that we’ve had so far. And play the part solo. But that’s where I am. And I can’t help this feeling of dread. Everything about this mission so far has been a failure. My own small attempts to observe any physiological changes in the Venetans. Jean-Luc’s and Jeyn’s attempts to keep Detrek under control. Then the Ferengi leaving, and now a return to the old belligerent ways by the Cardassians. It’s hard not to feel this mission is jinxed in some way. But this time, any failure on my part could have disastrous consequences.

P
icard asked Jeyn to join him and Crusher in the observation lounge. “Frankly, it’s a bewildering offer,” Picard said, when Jeyn arrived. “Anything that we give to them obviously couldn’t be used to make bioweapons.”

“So why would they make such a deal out of coming to inspect it?” said Jeyn. “Surely they haven’t gone through this whole charade simply to gain access to Starbase 261? Their information networks must be giving them excellent data on our starbase specifications—”

“I don’t think we should be thinking of this offer in those terms,” Crusher said. “My instinct tells me that there’s genuine fear behind this. I think the Tzenkethi are afraid that we’re hurtling toward a war that they don’t want either—”

“Yet this situation is entirely of their own making,” Picard said. “Think of the opportunities Alizome has had over the past week to call a halt—”

“But there came a point when we’d all come too far,” Crusher said. “Jean-Luc, you and I both know that we’ve been standing here thinking:
How did this happen? How did we get to this?
I think the Tzenkethi have been wondering the same but until now we haven’t been able to think of a way to back down without losing face. Is it
really
so difficult for us to believe that the Tzenkethi are as horrified at the prospect of war as we are? All this time, we’ve been obsessing about them manipulating events, but I think they have as little control of what’s been happening as we do.”