Star Trek - Masks Part 16

JUST BEFORE THEY BROKE CAMPthe next morning, Day Timer a.s.sembled his colorfully masked entourage, which now consisted of a n.o.bleman, an herbalist, a teacher, an archer, and a messenger. He had gone back to wearing the simple and comfortably broken-in Peddler's Mask, which was by far the least impressive mask on display.

As the peddler stood atop his quaint wagon, sun began filtering through the trees behind him, burning away the rose-colored mist. The clay was almost dry, and the topsoil was almost devoid of worms. It promised to be an unusually warm day.

"Starting today," Day Timer told them, "our journey becomes dangerous."

Katherine Pulaski glanced at Commander Riker. Though they could only see each other's eyes, they easily expressed to each other their amazement over the suggestion that anything could be more dangerous than what they had already faced.

"We are coming to a crossroad," Day Timer explained. "From this point on, we will meet many more travelers, and not all of them will be friendly."

"Will we meet more raiders?" asked Data, in his pale mask of strange scribblings.

The Lorcan shrugged. "We could. Certainly we will meet travelers like ourselves, headed for the fair. Your behavior must be appropriate to your new masks, or we'll have to defend ourselves every step of the way."

"How should we behave?" asked the doctor.

"Act as if you were born with that mask on," the peddler answered. "Act as if you will die with it on. A moment's weakness or hesitation, and you may face a challenge. Also, we are a troupe united. An affront to one of us is an affront to all of us.

"Were I still a simple peddler traveling by myself," he continued, "I would pose little threat to anyone. Even as a proprietor with all of you as my apprentices, we would attract little notice. And you, as proper apprentices, could remain silent and obedient, allowing me to speak for you. But now you are all important personages in your own right. Especially you, Riker. Everyone we meet will want to talk to the wearer of the Forest Mask. I will be ignored."

Will touched the polished wood covering his face and realized for the first time how ostentatious the Forest Mask was, with its gleaming jewels and exquisite workmans.h.i.+p. What right did he have to represent himself as a member of the Lorcan n.o.bility? He was honored by the prize and, in an odd way, would have hated to go back to the crude clay mask, but he didn't want to let his own vanity endanger his crew.

"Day Timer," he suggested, "if you think we should go back to wearing the Apprentice's Masks-"

"No!" the Lorcan shouted, aghast at the idea. "You have earned these masks. The villagers selected well, and I want you to wear them. You don't know this, Riker, but theypurchased the Forest Mask from me in order to present it to you. Of course, I gave them a very good price."

He bowed his head. "That's not entirely the whole of it," he admitted. "I've been looking for someone to wear that mask ever since its rightful owner, an old friend of mine, was killed in a skirmish by his own son."

Day Timer waved his hand, dismissing the tragedy. "But there are many stories like that on Lorca. The torch is never pa.s.sed easily." He rose to his full height and looked at each one of them in turn. "You will wear the masks, but you will do so correctly. As we always say, 'If you honor the mask, the mask will honor you.'"

Day Timer jumped down from the wagon and picked up his pony's halter. "Of course, Riker, if you were to hide in the wagon whenever there is a threat of trouble, no one would see the Forest Mask. It would be appropriate for a n.o.bleman to ride instead of walk."

"I'll bear that in mind," the commander answered with a faint smile no one saw.

A few minutes later, they were on the move again, marching in single file behind the funny little wagon, with its blue paint and gold lettering. Commander Riker walked directly behind Fenton Lewis, keeping an eye on the man in the feathered Messenger's Mask. Fenton Lewis had been spookily quiet ever since Day Timer's lecture, and Will scrutinized him with half-closed eyes from behind the knotholes of the Forest Mask.

"Lewis," said Will, "we've come far beyond the point to which the first away team could have traveled. Yet you haven't pointed out a single place and said, 'This is it-maybe it happened here.' You're just walking along, biding your time. What do you hope to get out of this?"

"Peace of mind," Lewis replied. "You don't want to be here on Lorca, but I do. I feel a certain kins.h.i.+p with this planet. So why don'tyou leave? I'll stay and find the captain's remains, and I'll also finish the mission. I'm sorry things worked out the way they did, but we knew this would be a dangerous mission. There's no point in more people getting hurt."

"What would you do if we left you here alone?"

"I'd probably stop traveling with this crazy coot," answered Lewis, pointing toward the rickety wagon. I'd go on to the fair to see who ends up with the Wisdom Mask. If it's Piercing Blade, then we're all out of luck."

"Perhaps you should leave," Riker suggested. "You're the one who's had all the hard luck."

"No," snapped Lewis, shaking his mask and his shoulder-length hair defiantly. "I'm alive, and I know more than I knew coming in. That's progress! You said I was biding my time, and you're right. I happen to be very patient."

"Well, I'm not," said Riker. "If you don't substantiate your story by the end of the day, I'll have you beamed back to theEnterprise and placed under arrest."

"For what?" scoffed the amba.s.sador. "For having bad luck, as you put it?"

Now it was Riker's turn to shake his head. "No, Amba.s.sador. There's a Ferengi vessel orbiting this planet. They might be very glad to welcome you aboard."

The Messenger's Mask whirled around. "You can't do that, Riker. That's a death sentence." Lewis took a deep breath and rea.s.sumed some of his c.o.c.ky a.s.surance. "There's no extradition treaty between the Federation and the Ferengi. You have no authority to do their bounty-hunting for them."

"It was just a thought," Riker said, slowing down and letting Fenton Lewis walk far ahead of him. He unzipped his inside pocket and took out his communicator badge.

"Riker to bridge. Come in."

"Wesley here," came the reply. "Lieutenant La Forge is in the image laboratory studying infrared scans of the planet. We're concerned about the warming trend you're having down there."

"The last thing I'm worried about is the weather," grumbled Riker. "Don't interrupt Geordi. What are the Ferengi doing?"

"Just sitting here, like us," Wesley answered. "But their transporters are getting more use than ours."

The commander sighed, then spoke again, keeping his voice low. "Ours are going to get some work tonight. Let Geordi know that one or more of us will beam up at nightfall."

"Regardless of-"

"That's right, Ensign. The personnel we have down here are too valuable to risk ... on top of the others." His voice clouded up like the salmon-colored sky.

"Yourself included, sir," the young man reminded him.

Riker didn't contradict that remark. "We need to put together a search party to look for them over a longer period of time."

"Yes, Commander," Wes answered softly.

"Out."

"Out, sir."

Will Riker soon found himself walking at the rear of the column, beside Lieutenant Commander Data. "You don't believe Fenton Lewis, do you?" he said to the android in a dry whisper.

"No, sir, I do not," Data rasped, trying to match Riker's lowered voice. "Everything we have seen on this planet indicates that his story is simply not plausible."

The Forest Mask nodded solemnly, but the fears came surging back. "His story is still possible, isn't it?"

"Many things are possible," Data acknowledged.

"You know, Data," Riker said hoa.r.s.ely, "we can't spend years on this planet. We have to leave eventually, whether we find them or not."

"Of course," Data said softly.

"If that happens, I'd like to leave somebody from theEnterprise behind here ... to keep looking."

"May I volunteer?" asked Data.

Riker put his hand on the android's shoulder. "I was hoping you'd say that. You seem to get along with Day Timer, and maybe he'll look after you. You might develop an affinity for this place."

"I already have," Data replied. "With all of us wearing these masks, I feel less different than the rest of you. n.o.body knows I am an android. They think I am human."

Will patted the android on the back, happy that somebody had found something to like about Lorca. "This would be a wonderful land to explore," he agreed, "if our purpose here wasn't so serious."

"Do not despair, Commander," said Data. "If we find them, they will be alive."

Will Riker nodded, unwilling to face Data's "if" and unwilling to consider the alternative to "alive." Never to see Deanna or the captain or Worf again? Never, perhaps, to know what really happened to them? They would just no longer be at his side. They would be gone from his life, as they were now. It wasn't a future he cared to contemplate. The thought of the combined loss was so monstrous that he could hardly conceive of it.

He forced himself to see the irony of the situation-that his s.h.i.+pmates should vanish on a primeval planet instead of in s.p.a.ce, where they spent so much of their lives.

"Whoa!" came a loud cry from ahead of them. Day Timer had stopped his wagon, but Riker could see only the latticework atop the cab because a thick stand of cane blocked his view. Ensign Greenblatt rushed past Data and Riker and ran toward the stalled wagon. Something was happening; Fenton Lewis was slowly edging his way into the forest, keeping out of sight.

Dr. Pulaski joined Data and the commander. "What happened? What's going on?"

"Unknown," said Data.

"Let's wait for Greenblatt to return," Riker ordered, keeping the other two from pressing forward.

The ensign returned a moment later. "The crossroad is at the bottom of this incline," she explained, "and we can see at least two riders down there. From this distance, even Day Timer can't tell who they are. He says the commander should get in the wagon."

"This is ridiculous," grumbled Riker. "I'm not going to hide."

"Part of Day Timer's plan is to have some hidden reserves, to keep our full strength unknown to them," Greenblatt said. "The element of surprise often works."

"Like the Trojan Horse," added Pulaski.

"All right," Riker muttered. "But let's do everything we can to help Day Timer deal peacefully with them. Doctor, you and I will hide in the wagon."

"Very good."

"Data, if they look reliable, ask them about the captain."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Greenblatt," said Riker ominously, "keep an eye on Amba.s.sador Lewis. Tell me later how he behaved and what he did."

"Yes, sir."

The doctor and the commander cautiously approached Day Timer's wagon. Wordlessly, they lowered the tailgate and climbed inside. As far as Data could see, Day Timer never even looked back or acknowledged them, but he snapped the reins as soon as they had closed the wagon door. The pony plodded on, unmindful of her hidden cargo.

Data and Ensign Greenblatt hurried to catch up with the wagon. The android saw the young security officer reach for her phaser and realize with a start that it was still in the wagon.

"Have courage," Data told her. "Perhaps that is another reason our cagey guide wanted someone in the wagon."

The blond woman nodded, then looked around. "Where's Amba.s.sador Lewis?"

Data pointed to his left and behind him. "He is doing a very good job of staying out of sight. I would not worry about him."

"We have enough to worry about without him," the ensign agreed, striding toward the crossroad.

The two riders sitting at the crossroad astride their ponies were very impressive. Their masks were of smooth unadorned silver metal, as if the riders had no ident.i.ty except for their obvious wealth. Sweeping wings on their masks did much to hide the most impressive aspect of their appearance, their monstrous ears, but the appendages were still eye-catching.

The travelers were Ferengi, concluded Data. He did not find this surprising, because he knew that a Ferengi s.h.i.+p was...o...b..ting the planet. He was, however, disappointed, because he had been looking forward to meeting more Lorcans.

Day Timer straightened up in his seat and scratched under his mask, as if surprised to meet another bunch of off-worlders. He must think his planet is being invaded, thought Data. In a way, it was.

"Good morning to you," Day Timer hailed the mounted Ferengi. "Will you please allow my humble wagon and my traveling companions to pa.s.s?"

"Absolutely." The nearest Ferengi nodded, pulling savagely on his reins and forcing his pony back. "Where are you headed?"

"To the fair at Cottage Meadow," the peddler answered. "On, girl," he barked, encouraging his plodding pony to move along. Data and Greenblatt walked nonchalantly behind him.

"The new king will be crowned there, isn't that so?" asked the second Ferengi, not moving out of the way.

Day Timer bowed reverently. "If the dragon is willing."

The big-eared trader rode out in front of Day Timer's wagon, forcing the peddler to pull up sharply. The Ferengi drew a slender whip from his saddle and pointed it at the Lorcan. "You're a peddler, aren't you?"

"As poor as my mask." Day Timer nodded. Then he abruptly dropped the obsequious tone. "Why are you delaying me?"

"We want to see what you have to sell," he answered. "We are customers."

With his una.s.suming Peddler's Mask, the Lorcan found it easy to slip back into a submissive att.i.tude. "I have nothing for the likes of fine n.o.blemen like yourselves, only simple things for poor people-fire starters, clay masks, and bits of fabric."

Now the other alien rode to the side of the wagon and stared into the peddler's face. "You have masks for sale?"

Day Timer averted his eyes. "Only clay ones, fit for serfs, apprentices, and a.s.sorted va.s.sals."

"We'd like to look," his inquisitor demanded.

Day Timer took a jocular tone. "Then come to the fair. I'll have my own place and will be easy to find. A couple of n.o.blemen such as yourselves will have a grand time there."

"Oh, we'll be there," the Ferengi a.s.sured him. "But we'd like to look at your wares now. Frankly, I don't understand your reluctance to display your goods. Why are you in business? We're collectors, and we pay very well, especially for fine masks."

Day Timer held out his hands in a helpless gesture. "No offense, but I'd rather save my wares for the fair. Why can't you honor my position and let me pa.s.s?"

A Ferengi pointed to Ensign Greenblatt in her darkly handsome Archer's Mask. "What about you? How much will you take for that mask you are wearing?"

"It's not for sale," said Greenblatt proudly. "I was born with this mask on, and I will die with it on."

"A n.o.ble sentiment," agreed the Ferengi. "And typical for the barbarians of this planet."

Data felt it was time to intervene. "You are Ferengi," he said loudly enough for those inside the wagon to hear. "We are Lorcans. We have more right than you to travel this road. So why do you molest us?"

Data's stern tone worked, at least temporarily. "Forgive our rudeness," said one interplanetary trader, "but we are short of time. We have to make our acquisitions as soon as possible. So, please, show us what you have for sale."

"I will be delighted to do so," Day Timer replied, "at the fair. Nowplease let us pa.s.s. We are late already."

"I think not," the other Ferengi snarled. He held up his hand and made a circling motion. At once, the trees rustled, the cane snapped, and red-masked Lorcans sprang out of the forest, brandis.h.i.+ng swords and pikes. They growled and snarled like badly kept animals.