The screen faded, leaving Marcus alone with her stacks of reports and files, several of which had been created just since her initial conversations with Xiong in the days after his rescue from Mirdonyae V. Based on the reports submitted by the archaeology and anthropology officer as part of his debriefing aboard the Endeavourwhile the starship was en route back to Vanguard, she could not wait to get her first look at this mysterious crystal the lieutenant had brought with him. Why had the Shedai created it? What was its purpose? What abilities did it possess that provided its seeming ability to interface and take control of Shedai computer systems? Of course, the progress Xiong and Tasthene had made while prisoners of the Klingons had raised new questions regarding the advanced nature of Shedai technical advancement. Of greater, arguably tremendous importance was the notion that such achievement appeared linked to the ancient race’s apparent mastery of genetic manipulation, as well as their demonstrated ability to affect at will the delicate balance between matter and energy. These were the puzzles that would occupy Marcus, Xiong, and the entire Vault research team in the weeks and months ahead.
59
Jetanien looked up to see Akeylah Karumé standing in his doorway. Rather than one of her usual ensembles, his aide was dressed in what the ambassador recognized as athletic attire. She wore no cosmetics, and her hair had been pulled into a ponytail. The expression on her face was one of undisguised irritation.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asked.
“Even without the chronometer positioned so conveniently on my desk,” Jetanien replied, “I am well aware of the time.” It was, it seemed, his night for rousing people out of sleep for what he believed to be pressing matters. Diplomacy, he long ago had learned, did not keep regular schedules. “I apologize for calling you at this late hour, but this could not wait. I think, however, that you’ll find it worth the inconvenience.”
Karumé appeared unconvinced. “Does it involve you dying of some incurable, debilitating disease from which you will suffer great pain before your ultimate, undignified demise while lying in an expanding pool of your own body waste?”
“Another time, perhaps,” Jetanien countered, adjusting his posture while sitting on his chair. He pointed to his computer terminal. “I received a rather interesting communiqué this evening.” He let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, until Karumé’s eyes widened in comprehension.
“The Romulan?”
Jetanien nodded. “Senator D’tran himself, if he’s to be believed. Apparently, death has not yet caught up to him.” Without any real information to consult, Jetanien could only guess that the senator had to be approaching the upper limits of advanced age even for Romulans, and even that was assuming that their physiology remained similar to their distant genetic relatives, the Vulcans.
Moving into the office, Karumé made her way around Jetanien’s desk in order to see the terminal. “Assuming that it’s not some kind of ruse, this is incredible, Ambassador.”
“Indeed,” Jetanien replied. “The message arrived in an encrypted form, and I spent several hours combing through Selina’s notes to find the cipher.” He had finally found the decryption key buried in the pages in one of his mentor’s numerous handwritten journals. The entry was innocuous, deliberately designed not to stand out from the rest of the book’s contents. Jetanien had nearly passed it while leafing through the pages. “There are no photographs or other visual references to D’tran in any of Selina’s files, so for now, I have no means of authenticating his identity.” It made sense, of course, as Rosen and her fellow diplomats had carried out their negotiations with their Romulan counterparts over subspace radio. Peace between the two powers had begun the same way the war preceding it had ended, with no human or ally ever seeing a Romulan in the flesh. D’tran and Rosen would continue their covert communications for years afterward in similar fashion, never meeting in person.
Leaning closer, Karumé nodded to the terminal. “Well? Let’s see it.”
Unable to resist the temptation, Jetanien emitted a small laugh. “It would seem that you’re awake now.” On the computer terminal’s interface, he tapped a command to replay the message he already had viewed three times. The display shifted from a graphic of the UFP seal to the image of an aged Romulan. Thick gray hair framed a gaunt, angular face, the most distinctive features of which were the stark, penetrating blue eyes peering out from beneath a pronounced brow. Though time may have ravaged the body, all indications were that the mind within remained vibrant.
“Greetings, Ambassador Jetanien,”began the recorded message. “I am D’tran. It seems you have benefited from the rather voluminous record-keeping habits of our mutual friend. I must admit to being more than a bit surprised to receive your communication, given the length of time since my last correspondence with Selina. However, I hope you will accept my sympathies for her passing. It is one of my life’s regrets that I never was able to meet her in person.
“As you know, Selina and I were in agreement that while the peace accord negotiated between our two peoples was necessary, its terms were lacking with respect to long-term consequences as far as our mutual future was concerned. Despite the propaganda fed to our citizens, there are many within the Romulan Empire, including more than a few within our government, who believe that a lasting peace with the Federation is possible, even desirable. We also accept that many within the Federation must feel the same way.”
“Well,” Karumé said as D’tran paused, “he certainly talkslike a politician.”
Leaning forward, the elderly senator continued, “Of course, there are those among our people who would welcome another war, perhaps as a misguided opportunity to atone for what they believe were unreasonable concessions forced upon us when the peace treaty was enacted. However, I am not alone in the Senate when I say that this is not a path we wish to follow. A few of my more ambitious colleagues even harbor fanciful notions of negotiating some form of accord with the Klingons.”A small smile graced his weathered features. “The wide-eyed optimism of youth never ceases to amuse me.”
Jetanien chuckled at that. “I may learn to like this Romulan.”
“Since the recent contact between one of our vessels and a Federation starship, I have had discussions with trusted colleagues about how best to open new diplomatic channels between our governments. We did not agree with the mission given to that vessel or to the ship sent to the area of space you call the Taurus Reach, believing those actions to be unnecessarily aggressive for no purpose other than provocation. For there to be a lasting peace, we must stop searching for battles that do not need to be fought in the first place.”
It was what the Romulan said next that caught Jetanien off guard. “I recall Selina mentioning you on occasion. She referred to you as a gifted prodigy with much potential. Based on what she told me about you, you very well might be someone who can persuade your Federation to engage us the way we wish to approach you—in peace. To that end, I make a proposition: full-faith negotiations, face-to-face, at a neutral site of your choosing.”
He shrugged. “If you have contemporaries within the Klingon Empire who you feel are up to this challenge, then we are willing to meet with them as well. As Selina might once have said, I leave the ball in your court and await your reply with great anticipation. Until then, my new friend, I wish you well.”