Страница 55 из 81
Lorgh’s grin fell. “Divided. Some wish to strengthen our ties with the Federation, some wish to strengthen our ties with the Romulans, some think we need to find our own path.”
“What about the Cardassians?”
The grin came back. “They die well.” Skirmishes with the Cardassians had increased in the months since the latest Raknal V disaster, with the Klingons being on the wi
None of that, however, was the human’s concern—nor would Lorgh’s glib response truly satisfy the human’s need for information. The question was, how much was Vaughn’s intelligence about Romulan involvement in the Betreka Sector worth?
More to the point, how much was it worth to Lorgh’s own investigations for the Federation to be more aware of the situation?
“The fervor which gripped our people sixteen years ago over the recovery of Ch’gran has abated with time, as all things do. True, we would prefer to have it in our possession than it be in the hands of murdering outsiders, but the number of dead without any true gains made by their sacrifices makes us weary.”
Vaughn frowned. “So what’s the problem?”
“Kravokh. He is obsessed with Ch’gran. Everything he does seems geared toward our wresting Ch’gran from Cardassian control. The benefits to the Empire are merely a fortuitous side effect—but one that masks his true intentions, and also prevents those who oppose his obsession from doing anything about it. I fear that his insistence on keeping our eyes on Cardassia will blind him to the dagger that the Romulans will insert in our backs.” Lorgh thought a moment, then decided to open up further. “And that dagger will come soon. I have information that Praetor Dralath suffers from an incurable blood disease called T’Shevat’s Syndrome. That, combined with his declining popularity and the age of their emperor, points to a man who is desperate enough to attempt something foolish.”
“Like start a war?”
Lorgh nodded.
Vaughn sipped the rest of his drink in silence. Then he rose. “Thanks for seeing me. You’ve been a tremendous help. The next one’s on me.”
Again, Lorgh nodded. Obviously, Vaughn felt he had gotten the better end of this particular information exchange. Which means that next time, he will be even more forthcoming. Good.
I just hope that revealing so much to the Federation benefits us as I pray it will.I.I.’s attempts to convince the High Council that the Romulans were a threat had fallen on deaf ears, mostly because of K’mpec’s efforts in blocking I.I.’s every move. Part of Lorgh thought it would be best to simply remove K’mpec, but—his animus for I.I. aside—he was an effective councillor. He was a consensus builder, and a charismatic leader who had avoided the factionalization of the Council. That made him an ideal candidate to succeed Kravokh, and perhaps truly unite the Council for the first time since Azetbur’s time.
If only he will come to my way of seeing things…
Throwing common sense to the wind, Lorgh finished his Altair water, and also departed the bar. His work on Deep Space Station K-7 was done.
The much more difficult work lay ahead.
Chapter 28
Risa
The sun shone gently on Curzon Dax’s face as he relaxed in the reclining chair. It has been far too long,he thought. He hadn’t had a proper vacation in over a year, and it had been considerably longer than that since he’d been to Risa.
The world was everything Dax could want in a vacation spot, especially after months of dealing with a group of Gallamite delegates who nit-picked every aspect of a trade agreement. His reward for thirteen weeks of staring at delegate brains (and what evolutionary quirk of fate led to a species with transparent skulls?) was to spend a week at his favorite place to relax. Risa had a regulated atmosphere that was heavenly to most humanoid species, an open policy of happiness, and a desire for all its inhabitants to have a good time.
For today, at least, his first day back after so prolonged an absence, Dax just wanted to turn off his brain and relax. He had deliberately left all his work in his office on Earth, and even his staff didn’t know where he was, just that he was “in-disposed.” No one could find him, no one could conscript him to negotiate a treaty or settle a dispute or keep people from killing each other—at least not this week.
And so he lay on the recliner, thinking about nothing. He brought no reading material, had not even gotten a Horga’hn.Frankly, he was too tired for jamaharon. No, for today at least, I am simply pretending that the galaxy outside Risa does not exist.
He closed his eyes and started to take a nap.
When he no longer felt the sun on his face, he woke up, assuming night had fallen—only to realize that the sun was still up, it was simply being blocked by a man wearing a red Starfleet uniform with a lieutenant commander’s symbol on the shoulder patch.
“You know, I was just saying to myself, ‘Self,’ I said, ‘the absolute last person in the entire universe that I want to see right now is Elias Vaughn.’ So naturally, you show up to ruin my vacation. Do me a favor and go away, would you please?”
Vaughn didn’t move. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Ambassador Dax. I need you to come with me.”
Dax let out a very long sigh. “I’m on a holiday. And what’s more, how did you find me?”
Smirking slightly, Vaughn said, “You’re getting predictable in your old age, Ambassador. When I realized that nobody on your staff knew where you were, I figured you came either here or to Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet. Risa was closer, so I tried here first. Luck of the draw.”
“Luck of the irritating, more like. Look, Vaughn, I’m sure that whatever it is that led you to track me down seems very important to you, but it isn’t important to me. What’s important to me is lying in this recliner for a week.”
“The death of i
Dax closed his eyes and exhaled. “Don’t get melodramatic with me, Vaughn. People die all the time. It’s the one guarantee of living.”
“Yes, but those responsible should try to atone, should they not?”
Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, Dax said, “Vaughn, when I came here, I had a splitting headache, the unfortunate result of thirteen weeks spent negotiating with a tiresome collection of Gallamites. The headache was this close—”he now held the thumb and forefinger very close together in the air between him and the lieutenant commander “—to going away when you showed up. Now it’s back, full bore. I’m about half a step away from having you forcibly removed from the planet—and don’t think I’m bluffing, I’m quite well known to the higher-ups hereabouts, and they’ll take my side a lot sooner than someone uncouth enough to wear his uniform to a resort. Kindly tell me why you’re here so I can ignore you and get back to my nap.”
“Do you remember Ian Troi? He’s dead.”
Dax blinked. “I’m very sorry to hear that.” He meant it, too. Troi was a good man.