Fortune's Light Part 29

Larrak watched with satisfaction. "Drop your weapons," he told them. His blaster muzzle was pressed against Norayan's temple.

"Don't do it," she said. "Not for me, Will."

But he had no choice. He couldn't let Norayan die.

"You heard him," Riker instructed his companions. "Drop them."

The phasers made a couple of dull thumps as they hit the floor. Riker's blaster made a slightly heavier sound.

Suddenly Larrak's face twisted. "No," he said. "There's another one-the female. Where is she?" He looked around him, but Lyneea was nowhere to be seen.

Riker thought about trying to pick up one of their weapons. Data's phaser was lying only a few inches from his foot, having fallen closer to him than his borrowed blaster.

But Larrak didn't give him a chance. He darted a look at Riker. "I want her in front of me," he bellowed. "Tell her that!"

There was a moment when anything could have happened. Then Lyneea showed herself, and Riker saw that she hadn't gotten very far. She was only at the end of the platform; she hadn't slipped around to the back yet, where she might have obtained a clear shot.

"Drop the weapon," said Larrak, "pitiful as it is."

She did as she was instructed. Not happily, but she did it.

"Move over with the others," he said.

Again, she complied.

"Nice try," breathed Riker.

"Not nice enough," she told him.

Of course Lyneea didn't know about Kobar. As far as she was concerned, he had fled in the wake of the retainers.

Larrak must have made the same a.s.sumption, more or less, because he didn't look nervous anymore.

Come on, Riker rooted silently. Come on, Kobar.

"And now," said Terrin's first official, "I will need transportation off Imprima."

"Where will you go?" asked Riker.

Larrak shrugged. "The Ferengi will take care of me. I can still be of use to them, as an adviser. After all, I know of other madraggi that might consider dealing with them."

Norayan winced at the pressure of the blaster muzzle against her temple. It made Riker want to do something stupid.

But he kept his temper. He had to keep Larrak occupied, he reminded himself. Had to give Kobar a decent chance to bring him down.

"It'll never happen," he said. "After this, no madraga will touch a Ferengi deal."

Larrak looked at him. "Nonsense. You are too naive. Now ... transportation, if you please. Use your communicator. See to it."

The human frowned, in the interests of not looking too eager. "Riker to Captain Picard."

The answer was instantaneous. "We've been listening in, Number One. It sounds as if you've got a problem."

"It's Terrin's first official, sir. He's got a blaster and a hostage. And he means to kill her if he can't get offplanet transportation."

There was silence for a moment, as the captain seemed to mull it over. "It doesn't appear we have much of a choice, does it?"

"No, sir. We'll need to start the beam-up calibrations immediately. You know how long that can take, and I don't think our friend is in the mood to wait."

Picard's answer was crisp, without a trace of hesitation, even though he knew that there were no "beam-up calibrations" to be made. He'd worked with Riker long enough to know how his mind worked-and to understand that he needed time.

"Will do, Number One. I'll see to it personally."

Larrak heard all this, of course, and he didn't object. No surprise there-he wasn't a technician, he was a bureaucrat. What did he know about transporter technology?

"It'll take a few minutes," Riker told him.

"So I understand," said Larrak. "Just be warned that my patience isn't-"

That was when Kobar made his move-vaulting up onto the platform, grabbing Larrak and pulling him away from Norayan. Suddenly the blaster in Larrak's hand went off-though fortunately, not in the direction of Norayan's head, thanks to Kobar's grip on Larrak's wrist. It continued to spew destructive force as Norayan dropped out of sight, its beam ripping up the wood of the platform and digging a furrow in the floor in front of it.

Larrak and Kobar struggled for control of the weapon, the Terrin official proving that he was stronger than his appearance suggested. They lurched together, falling across the table, and suddenly the blaster was cutting a swath in Riker's direction.

By that time the first officer had already knelt and retrieved Data's phaser. As the beam came his way, plowing a trench in the floor, he was able to fling himself out of its path. Somehow he avoided further injuring his shoulder.

Rolling to his feet, he saw that Larrak and Kobar were still vying for control of the blaster. But Larrak was slipping something out of his robe.

A knife.

Riker cried out, but his warning came too late. The knife slipped into Kobar's side and he let go of Larrak's weapon. Slumping to the platform, he left Larrak standing all alone.

The Impriman was too easy a target to miss. Riker fired the phaser and knocked the blaster out of Larrak's hand. A split-second later Worf retrieved a phaser, fired it, and spun him around and off the platform.

Data was the first one around the platform. He was already kneeling beside Larrak when the others arrived.

"His fall was not fatal," reported the android, obviously pleased. "Though he may have broken some bones."

Amazing, Riker mused. It didn't matter to Data that Larrak was ready to destroy him a few seconds ago. The android couldn't bear a grudge if he wanted to.

Riker, on the other hand, was only human. When he looked at Larrak, all he could see was the man who'd killed his friend.

A flurry of retainers and attendants and kinsmen took the injured away. Daran was protesting; he was hardly hurt at all, he claimed. And Kobar, though exceedingly pale even for an Impriman, was conscious when they removed him-a good sign. At the end, Norayan was clasping his hand, smiling, expressing her confidence that he was too tough to die.

And if there was more affection there than grat.i.tude, she would not have admitted it, even to herself. She was still second official of Criathis-and he was still the son of Kelnae.

Ralk, they found out later, had not been so lucky. After Riker had avoided Larrak's errant blaster beam, it had zigzagged in the Ferengi's direction. At least, that was the way it looked.

More than likely, the human told himself, Ralk had never known what hit him.

Chapter Sixteen.

PICARD TOOK A SIP of his Earl Grey. "Then we're off the hook, Number One?"

Riker's voice came through loud and clear over the s.h.i.+p's communications system. "Aye, sir. The madraggi have recognized the validity of my loophole, which means that our communicators as well as our phasers are sanctioned under the high-tech ban. And Data, too."

"Data?" echoed the captain.

"Yes. Once the Imprimans realized he was an artificial being, he came into question as well. Anyway, that's all been resolved. Next year they'll be closing the loophole to keep out communicators and phasers. But Data will be welcome anytime."

Picard considered that as he placed his cup and saucer on his ready room desk. "You know, Commander, you took quite a few liberties during your stay down there. Not only with the high-tech ban, but with First Official Daran's trust."

"There was no other way, sir. And now that he's had some time to think about it, the first official is coming to see that. Give him another few days and we'll be firmly back in his good graces."

The captain grunted. Optimism was a good trait for a first officer, and Riker had it in abundance. "And he suffered no injuries as a result of his fall?"

"Just some bruises, sir."

"Good to hear. What about Larrak?"

"You mean his medical condition? Or what's in store for him?"

"Both," said Picard.

"Well, he's going to be convalescing for a couple of weeks, until that leg can start to mend. Then he'll stand trial for Teller's murder, for killing the retainers in the amphitheater, and for violating the trade agreement. All in all, I'd say he's going to be put away for a long time."

"Put away, Number One?"

"The Impriman penal system is not as forward-looking as ours, sir. They still believe in long-term incarceration."

That sounded a little barbaric, Picard thought. But then, it was their planet. They could do as they saw fit.

"Interestingly enough, Madraga Terrin will probably emerge from the trial unscathed. From the looks of it, the alliance with the Ferengi was a one-man operation. The other officials had nothing to do with it." A pause. "That is, from the looks of it."

"You're skeptical?"

"There's no proof one way or the other, sir. And I've got nothing left to bluff with."

That was for certain.

"Kelnae?"

"It'll never be proved that he ordered my a.s.sa.s.sination, though it's pretty plain that he was the one. He'll have his share of problems, though. The other madraggi won't take kindly to the fact that he arranged the theft of Fortune's Light. There'll be sanctions-the kind that will give Rhurig a great deal of trouble."

"And Kobar?" asked Picard.

Riker chuckled. "A real surprise, Captain. He showed a lot of character in the amphitheater-a lot of pride. I think he's a better person than anyone has given him credit for being. He's still trying to cope with a reputation he no longer deserves."

"You seem to be quite an admirer, considering he had a knife at your throat not so long ago."

"But he didn't use it, sir, and that makes all the difference in the world. Did I mention that he's severed all ties with his madraga?"

"No." Picard found himself impressed as well.

"Kobar could have stayed with his father and continued to live the easy life. Even with all the problems Rhurig is going to face, the madraga won't go downhill all at once. But Kobar doesn't want anything to do with Kelnae's machinations anymore; the old man went too far this time."

The captain reflected on just how deceiving appearances could be. "Good for him. But what will he do? Cut off from his madraga, he'll be penniless, won't he?"

"Penniless indeed. That's why I made ... a suggestion."

The words hung tantalizingly in the air. "All right, Commander, I'll bite. What suggestion?"

"You see, sir, when I went to visit him in the hospital-to let him know that there were no hard feelings and to compare knife wounds-it occurred to me that the trade liaison post is unoccupied."

Picard started to lean forward. "You didn't."

"I did, sir. After all, he's demonstrated that his ethics are beyond reproach-a quality the Federation may find crucial if it's going to continue relations with this planet. You've got to admit our credibility is somewhat threadbare at the moment. And besides, it may be intriguing to see how an Impriman deals with Imprimans."

Picard smiled. He was glad that Riker wasn't there to see it. "Commander, that is not your decision to make."

"Of course not, Captain. As I said, it was only a suggestion."

"And what was his reaction to this suggestion?"

"He turned me down. He said he'd sooner sell his soul than work for offworlders-though he didn't sound entirely convincing. With a little work, I think, we could persuade him to take the job."

Picard mulled it over. "I'll propose it to the appropriate authorities," he said finally. "And then, who knows? Stranger things have happened."

"Thank you, sir."

"No need, Number One. Incidentally, the carnival is scheduled to end in a few hours-and the transportation ban along with it. I take it you'll be returning at that time, along with your fellow officers?"

For a moment, silence. "The others will beam up, Captain. But if it's all right with you, I'd like to take some of that sh.o.r.e leave I've been acc.u.mulating. The s.h.i.+p has to stay anyway, to tie up the loose ends, and-"

"And you'd like to tie up some of your own?"

"Exactly."

Picard nodded, for the benefit of no one in particular. "Take all the time you need, Will."

"I appreciate that, sir."

Their communication over, the captain picked up his cup and saucer and returned them to the food processing unit. He had a long report ahead of him, and his Earl Grey had no doubt by this time gotten cold.