That seemed to bring the patrol leader up short. “Fine, then.” Carelessly, he kicked away refuse cast aside by the fleeing mob. He approached Commander Vaughn, who was facing him expectantly. “Are you the leader of your group?”
“I’m Commander Vaughn.”
“Chief Enforcer Elkoh,” the patrol leader said. “Can you explain what happened here?”
“I was going to ask you the same question.”
The patrol stopped all Yrythny lingering in the plaza, demanding identification and conducting spot searches. With arms straight up in the air, civilians suspected of lawbreaking waited their turn to have their belongings inspected. Other enforcers retrieved the weapons thrown aside by escaping rioters.
Vaughn provided what answers he could to Elkoh’s inquiries; perhaps they looked to him, as an alien, to offer an objective account of the incident. For his part, Vaughn was more interested in what the Yrythny female who dispersed the mob would have to say. She stood by quietly, watching, awaiting her turn. She’d removed a small computing device from her shoulder pack and was clicking through the contents when the chief enforcer thanked Vaughn and turned to her. “Delegate Keren?” he asked.
She nodded, unruffled, and replaced her computer in her shoulder pack. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she said, “Enforcer?”
The officer subvocalized something into a metal nodule mounted on his throat and then paused, listening intently to his earpiece until frown wrinkles creased his spotted forehead. “You had something to do with this?” he said accusingly. “After the last time, Assembly Chair Rashoh said that if you were discovered to be involved, directly or indirectly with any act of Wanderer rebellion—”
“I read the censure,” Keren said, raising a hand to hush her inquisitor. “I caught word that there might be trouble, after the Assembly received the news of the aliens’ visit. I came here to greet the Assembly Chair’s guests.”
“From whom did you ‘catch word’?” the officer sniffed.
“That doesn’t matter,” Keren dismissed him breezily.
“Assembly Chair Rashoh will beg to differ. He—”
“Stop, Elkoh. Ispeak on behalf of our esteemed leader,” said a Yrythny newly arrived on the scene.
To Vaughn’s eye, the towering, dark-skinned newcomer resembled the chieftain of the Avarilin mien and garb. But where J’Maah had been thick and stumpy, this Yrythny was lean and tall, his neatly braided chestnut hair falling out of an elegant headpiece, adorned with bronze and silver embroidery.
“Yes, sir, Vice Chair Jeshoh.” Elkoh offered his superior a bow before ducking away. “I may need to question you and your people further,” he cautioned Vaughn.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Vaughn said mildly, keeping his attention fixed on Vice Chair Jeshoh, who had turned toward the away team’s benefactor.
“Ah! Delegate Keren. Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Jeshoh trained his ebony eyes on the smaller Yrythny.
“You owe these strangers your gratitude, Jeshoh,” Keren said, pointing at Vaughn’s crew, who continued to see to the injured escorts. They’d been joined in the last few minutes by several Yrthny medics. “The honor guard you sent to bring them to the dining hall would all be dead were it not for their medical assistance. Your own enforcers are more interested in finding the guilty than helping the wounded.” Keren tossed her cloak off her shoulder.
Jeshoh turned back to Vaughn, and in a gesture Vaughn was beginning to know well reached for the commander’s elbows. Vaughn responded in kind. “I bring the deepest apologies of our leadership. Please know we will do all we can to assure your continuing safety.”
Before Vaughn could reply, another enforcer tapped him on the shoulder. More questions. Could he identify any of the agitators from a digital image? The soldier handed Vaughn a tablet and showed him how to scroll through the contents. While he perused the Yrythny “Most Wanted” lineup, Vaughn listened to the conversation resuming between Jeshoh and Keren.
“You risk violating your censure, Keren.”
“My fellow Wanderers listen to me! The violence could have been much worse.”
“For your sake, I hope an investigation proves you right.”
“It will. The truth bestows confidence, Vice Chair Jeshoh.”
“So you always say. I still win our debates.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” she countered.
“You haven’t passed a single resolution this legislative session.”
“My most recent is stalled in yourcommittee.”
“If it was a good law, wouldn’t we pass it?” Jeshoh walked away before Keren could protest. “Commander…Vaughn, is it?”
“Yes,” Vaughn said.
“The leadership awaits us. Several of these enforcers will escort us to dinner.” Taking the tablet from Vaughn, he called out to Elkoh, passing the device to him. “You will proceed without further inconvenience to our guests, Chief Enforcer. Assign your best people to accompany us.”
Silently, Shar and Keren walked side by side down Luthia’s long, streetlike tunnels past shops, laboratories, supply depots and military checkpoints to a pathway that ran along an artificial river. Swift currents hurried along beside them, foaming and crashing against red coral barriers and boulders, which were weathered smooth. He found the soft random sounds of the water calming. With each twist of the path, with each bridge they crossed, Shar became increasingly amazed at how much more of a “city” Luthia was than any of the Federation’s space stations. No matter how much time he spent on Deep Space 9, he never forgot that he was swaddled in metal and conduits. Here, the life pulsing through the city might wholly push aside his disbelief.
A dense, mixed population of civilians, government and military personnel created a stimulating mix of textures and scents: salt-water-filled bins of fish; tangy, unwashed clothing and rotted wood; butter-soft slippers made of skins; homespun cloaks, gaudy baubles, tubs of congealed cooking fats. He was reminded of some of the more rural communities of Andor.
Shar avoided looking directly at Keren, trying instead to study her unobtrusively. Not nearly as muscular as many of the Yrythny they’d encountered so far, she had a slender build. Her charcoal and cocoa-colored facial stripes blended in with the nondescript headpiece she wore. Her clothes were suitable for farm work, and yet apparently she was some kind of government leader.
Keren shoved her hands into her pockets and hummed a discordant tune while she walked. Shar lengthened his stride so he could keep up. Surprisingly, he felt not the slightest bit winded as he chased alongside Keren; he’d grown accustomed to his body taking time to adjust to the gravity or the atmosphere of a new world, but Luthia already felt comfortable to him.
“Thank you,” he said finally.
She raised calm eyes to Shar’s frankly curious face. “Are you addressing me?”
“You saved my life,” Shar offered by way of explanation. “Thank you.”
She shrugged, adjusted the ties on her blouse. “The fools who attacked misunderstood the news from the Avaril.They thought you were Cheka spies, captured when you encroached on our perimeter. Of course, it may be that you arespies, but we’ve no proof of that. I’m afraid that our ongoing conflict with the Cheka has many of our people on edge. The helplessness, the anger sometimes feeds the mob mentality and overwhlems common sense.”
“I see. Then, may I ask…Why me, Delegate Keren? My shipmates—”
“You have me at a disadvantage,” Keren interrupted. “While you know me, I don’t have the benefit of your name.”
“I beg your pardon. Ensign Thirishar ch’Thane, science officer, U.S.S. Defiant.”
“Thank you. I liked the look of you, Ensign ch’Thane. Kneeling there, you didn’t seem fearful.” She studied Shar. “More curious.”
“I have many questions,” Shar said honestly.