“Projecting the long-term genetic drift. Mapping the likely mutations and the probable outcome of those mutations. I expect to complete the analysis by tonight.”
“Excellent. Keep me posted.” Dax leaned close enough to Shar that only he could hear her. “I know you had a lot invested in this project, and you’ve done superior work. Don’t beat yourself up about not finishing in time. The Assembly is happy with the compromise I proposed. I think we’ve succeeded in helping the Yrythny.”
Eyes straight ahead, Shar said politely, “As you say, sir.”
Dax turned to the passengers in the aft seats. “Strapped in?”
Keren and Jeshoh answered affirmatively.
“All right, then. Ensign, prepare for launch.”
“Yes, sir,” Shar acknowledged. “Luthia launch control, this is shuttle Saganrequesting clearance for takeoff.”
“ShuttleSagan, you are clear for launch.”
For Shar, knowing he was going to Vanìmel for the last time felt bittersweet. Vaughn and the Defiantwould return tomorrow, prepared to resume their explorations. Dax’s assurances aside, he berated himself for failing to accomplish his personal goals. He ought to be satisfied with the away team’s work; they’d all played a role in Ezri’s diplomatic efforts. Her proposed compromise was logical, if not particularly original. If the committees’ response indicated how the Yrythny, as a whole, would respond, her ideas would be well received. But he could have done more. I should have done more,Shar thought. After all we’ve been through, this can’t be all.
In the days since they left the Consortium, all crewmen had worked on their designated pieces of Vaughn’s plan and now, they waited. Experience had taught Vaughn not to be impatient. All hell would break loose soon enough. In the last hour, the finer points of the femtobot defense had been finalized. Though engineering wasn’t his forte, he found Leishman’s report fascinating, including the successful synthesis of a particle fountain metal with a Federation alloy.
Excitedly, Rahim called from his station, “I’ve got them, Captain.”
Vaughn looked up from the padd he’d been studying. “Let’s hear it.”
The bridge officer hurriedly tapped in a few commands. “Compensating for radiant interference, audio feed—”
“—when the shuttle with our payment leaves theAvaril, it will also carry the alien’s chief technologist, Nog. You’ll need him to translate the specifications into a working device.”
“This is from the Avaril?”Vaughn asked.
Rahim nodded.
Vaughn knew from time with J’Maah that the subspace channel hosting the transmission wasn’t a usual Yrythny frequency. So we are dealing with a conspirator. J’Maah will be a sitting duck.
“What are we supposed to do with him?”a metallic Cheka voice reverberated through the bridge.
“Once he’s built the cloak, you can do with him as you please. It’s of no consequence to us.”
“Can we identify the vocal patterns?” Vaughn asked. If he could figure out who the traitor was, he might be able to send a covert communiqué to J’Maah before the deal went down.
Rahim apologized. “No, sir. I’ve already had to modify the audio to work with our decryption algorithms.”
A small price to pay for confirmation,he thought.
The channel clicked off, but Vaughn had gained a clear visual of how the pieces would move across the chessboard. He touched his combadge. “Vaughn to Permenter.”
“Go ahead.”
“Have you ever heard of a noisemaker, Ensign? The tactical variety?”
He could hear her hesitation.
“I’ll be right down. I have another project for you. Vaughn out. Sam, you have the bridge.”
Bowers looked up from his console. “Noisemaker, sir?”
Vaughn paused at the door. “If this plays out the way I think it will, the Avarilwill be completely vulnerable when the Yrythny conspirators initiate the trade with the Cheka. We have to make it as hard as possible for them to attack the Avaril—or at least improve the odds. I’ve had quite enough of playing by their rules.” Vaughn knew he spoke for every member of the crew. Time to blow the lid off this con game.
Sidestepping a group of servants carrying large bins overloaded with fish, Shar ducked beneath an awning and waited for them to pass. He fingered the padd in his pocket, longing for a minute to sit down and review his research data. He’d downloaded the rudiments of his study to carry with him, anticipating that the evening’s official schedule would allow him plenty of work time. Besides Ezri, most of the major government players were slated to speak; if they resembled most officials, they would have lengthy, repetitive and self-aggrandizing rhetoric to propagate. Considering he more or less knew what would be said, he felt no guilt about using the time more effectively.
As he approached the end of the walkway, Shar realized he was lost. He had taken a left turn at the Fountain Triad, passed by the servants’ quarters and circled back along the north boardwalk to the plaza. Keren had instructed him to meet her near the entrance to the Colonnade, the facility hosting the evening festivities. Instead, Shar arrived at the end of his walk facing a black sea wall marking the narrow alleyway running behind the resident’s wing. From what he’d seen of House Perian, little if any logic had gone into the design. The original House had been built three thousand years ago—the plaza had been at the center. Three millennia had allowed time for the natives to add on the accoutrements of modern life from a marina to a shuttleport to aquaculture outbuildings. Over the course of the afternoon, Shar had seen most of Perian but had yet to retrace his steps. He turned around, looked up to see if Keren might be descending one of the outer staircases or if he could recognize any landmarks. A cluster of Yrythny emerged from the alleyway; Shar approached them. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for the Colonnade.”
The tallest in the group, an Yrythny who reminded Shar of Jeshoh, laughed heartily. “You’re all turned about, stranger. We’re headed there ourselves. You’re welcome to walk with us.”
“Thank you,” Shar said, hoping this group was headed directly for the Colonnade and not eventually to the Colonnade by way of the café, the apartments or the docks. He followed alongside, seeking to regain his bearings. After walking a short distance, Shar recognized a familiar landmark and relaxed. “I’m Thirishar, by the way,” he introduced himself. “But most call me Shar.”
“I’m Nensoh, these are my friends Dernah and Spetsoh. I assumed from the look of you that you’re part of the alien delegation from Luthia. Your hair is astonishing.”
Shar had discovered his hair inordinately fascinated the Yrythny. “Do you live here?” Shar wracked his brain for other questions one asked when making polite conversation. He doubted the finer points of chromosomal architecture would interest this trio.
“Only during the summer. To help with the farming. During the winter, I serve on a starship,” Nensoh explained. “I’m home because my consort and I will go into the water. Here we are.”
The group emerged onto the open square, crowded with Yrythny waiting for admission to the Colonnade. Shar split off from his Yrythny escorts, knowing if he followed them into the throng, he’d never find Keren. “Thank you, Nensoh!” Shar yelled over the cacophonous crowd. He waved farewell.
Puckering his face strangely, Nensoh raised his hand, mimicking the unfamiliar gesture.
And then Shar saw it. The starburst mark.
“Wait!” he called, running after Nensoh.
Nensoh paused when he saw Shar coming toward them. “Shar?”
“The mark on your hand. I’ve seen it before.”
Nensoh shrugged. “It’s not unusual. It appears on the palm of a fertile Yrythny as they enter their reproductive period. My guess is, were you to check the palms of all of these Yrythny, most would bear the mark.”