Norinda nodded again, her grim mood matching Picard’s. “And if that warbird acts against Romulus—if any of the crew as individuals breaks regulations, strikes an Assessor, fails to keep a perfect record—then the commune assigned to that warbird is punished, in ways I will not describe.”
Now Picard knew what Norinda had been concerned about. Now he was, too.
“The Tal Shiar plans to destroy the three communes linked to the warbirds,” he said. “There will then be nothing to prevent their commanders from launching full-scale suicide attacks on Romulus, when the worlds are less than three light-seconds apart.”
A single warbird with a miniature black hole in her hull, striking a Romulan city at warp two, wouldn’t have to fire a single shot to take out tens of millions. And by attacking from so close, Romulan planetary defenses wouldn’t have a chance to respond in time.
“And thus a civil war begins,” Norinda said.
Picard was at once disheartened and encouraged. Disheartened, because the Tal Shiar plan was brutally simple and bound to succeed. But he was encouraged because it was a plan that had a definite starting time and a single specific action. If within the next three days he could convince the Tal Shiar not to take that action, then there was a possibility the war could be stopped before it began.
Picard had only one more question to ask of Norinda. “You told me the Jolan Movement was attempting to stop the Tal Shiar’s plans. How?”
“As the Hour of Opposition approaches, all the followers of the Jolan Movement, on both worlds, open and hidden alike, will join in an emanation of love, sending our thoughts through the fabric of the universe, to dissuade the Tal Shiar from having thoughts of war.”
“I see,” Picard said, giving no sign that might reveal what he thought of such a plan. “And if that plan doesn’t work?”
Norinda looked genuinely puzzled. “How can it not?”
Picard had learned enough. All his questions had been answered. He had less than three days, but he still had a mission.
“Norinda, what if I could stop the civil war before the Hour of Opposition?”
“That…would be wonderful. Love would prevail.”
“Well, I believe I can accomplish that, but what I need to do first, is to contact someone within the Tal Shiar. Can you arrange that for me, through whoever you have who’s infiltrated their organization?”
Norinda grew reserved. “That would put lives at risk.”
Picard found that a startling reply. “Norinda, lives already are at risk. Tens of millions in this system alone. Billions in the two quadrants.”
Norinda appeared to be as confused as Picard felt. “Why should billions of lives in other systems be affected by what happens here?”
Picard sighed. For someone able to master a myriad of details of life on one planet, Norinda seemed curiously un-informed about interplanetary politics. And he had no time to educate her. “In this region of space, the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, each spacefaring culture is connected to the next. A war here will definitely reach out to involve other systems. Believe me. It will happen.”
A faraway look came to Norinda then. “I didn’t know,” she said. “Billions?”
Picard nodded, wondering how else he could get through to her the urgency of his request.
“Billions of people, needing love.” She smiled.
“Will you help me?” Picard demanded.
Norinda regarded him earnestly. “Of course I will. How can I not? We must bring peace to this world, and to Romulus, and to the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. We must bring peace to the galaxy.”
“Fine,” Picard said, steering firmly away from any further discussions of love. “Will you put me in contact with the Tal Shiar?”
“Certainly.”
“Thank you,” Picard said with honest relief. “When?”
Norinda paused to think.
“We only have three days,” Picard reminded her.
“More than enough time,” Norinda said. “The Tal Shiar have agents on Remus. I will arrange a meeting for later today.”
“Thank you,” Picard said again. He still had a chance.
From the other side of the chamber, someone called out for “the Jolara.”
Picard and Norinda both turned to see the young Romulan, Nran, running across the greenhouse chamber, La Forge beside him.
Nran stopped by Norinda, saluted her, gasped out, “Farr Jolan. There’s been an explosion. Sabotage.”
Picard stepped back as Norinda appeared to increase her height by several centimeters.
“Where?” she demanded, and her voice was deeper than it had been a moment ago.
“Processing Segment Three. The cargo terminal.” Nran nervously wiped at the curious patch of metallic gold under his left eye.
Norinda appeared to calm slightly when she heard the location. “What kind of ship?” she asked.
Nran held his fingers to the patch as if trying to remember. “A transport shuttle,” he said at last. “It jettisoned its warp pod…because…” His eyes popped open in surprise. “Kirk escaped.”
Norinda, Picard, and La Forge all said “What?” at the same time.
Nran squinted, keeping his fingers on the patch, and Picard concluded that it was part of some sort of subcutaneous communicator. “He and his friend…they stole a transport shuttle, blew up an ore hauler, then…then cloaked. They’re gone.” Nran shrugged. “And that’s all.”
Norinda smiled at Nran, and subtly became a younger, more voluptuous version of herself, even as her uniform grew more snug. Picard saw the yearning expression that swept over the young Romulan, knew what he must be feeling, remembered feeling that way himself.
“Thank you, Nran,” Norinda whispered.
Picard knew Nran couldn’t speak to save his life.
She took his hand, held it close in hers to make a fist, then held it to her heart.
Nran’s face flushed bright green. His mouth opened.
“Jolan True,” Norinda said, as soft as a kiss. Then she released his hand and he slowly backed away, unsteadily turned, and headed off in silence.
But by the time Norinda had turned her attention back to Picard, she had regained what Picard now thought of as her normal Romulan form.
“Kirk must have found his son,” she said.
Picard didn’t know how she had come to that conclusion. “Was his son reported to be with him?”
“No. But why else would he leave?”
“If he was being treated like us,” La Forge said, “then he was a prisoner. I’d say he escaped, but there’s no way he’s leaving without finding out what happened to Joseph.”
Norinda looked at Picard. “Do you agree?”
“Most assuredly,” Picard said. “In fact, I know exactly where Jim’s going. Because it’s where I’d go, too.”
Norinda smiled, and waited patiently.
Picard did not disappoint her.
20
ORBITAL REACHES, REMUS, STARDATE 57487.5
Kirk had found food packs in a cooler, and McCoy had found a medical kit with a Romulan compound that eased the discomfort in his legs. But the most restorative part of their flight to orbit was dialing back the shuttle’s gravity, eventually reaching Mars normal, one-third of Earth’s.
In the copilot’s seat, McCoy was thinking of a few more modifications to make life simpler in the future. “I might have to give up on my internal leg implants,” he mused. “Maybe face the inevitable and get a powered chair when we get back to Earth.”
Kirk moved his attention back and forth from the shuttle’s controls to the viewport, looking for anything out of the ordinary. So far so good, he thought. “That sounds encouraging.”
“Encouraging?” McCoy snorted. “Me in a hoverchair?”
“You’re talking about when we get back to Earth, Bones. That implies you expect we’ll find Joseph, Scotty, Jean-Luc and his crew and get out of this.”