him, to prevent that from happening.”
Picard walked at Norinda’s side, wishing she were in human form again so he could read her expressions, sense the truth behind her statements. He suddenly wondered if she had chosen this form precisely because of that reason—there was no way he could be certain which of her responses were truthful, which were lies.
“But the intruders who attacked us, they didn’t try to kill Joseph.” Picard remembered that part perfectly. “They wanted to take him. They didn’t even kill the rest of us, when that would have been an easy matter.”
“I do not know everything the Tal Shiar has planned,” Norinda said. “Whatever they wanted with T’Kol T’Lan, they failed when you saved him. There is no need to wonder further.”
Picard stopped again. “But we didn’t save him.”
Norinda stopped a few steps past Picard, looked back at him. “The Tal Shiar transmissions we intercepted, they claim the child was beamed off the ship by a Starfleet transporter.”
“I saw it happen,” Picard said. “I recognized the transporter signature. So did Kirk. But there are no other Starfleet vessels in orbit of Remus.” He listed for her the other possibilities that could account for what they’d seen, and the objections Scott and La Forge had raised to all of them. “None of us knows who’s responsible for beaming Joseph out. None of us knows where he is.”
The Reman form of Norinda darkened, broke apart at the edges, shifted out of focus, coalescing so rapidly into her smaller Romulan form with its Assessor uniform that Picard heard a gentle rush of air.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Norinda’s quick smile stirred desire in him instantly and Picard pushed the bloody cloth against his ragged ear. Before he could protest aloud, her smile had faded, as if she had reacted by instinct to male presence, forgetting their new arrangement.
“Nothing is wrong,” she said calmly. “But I am troubled that there could be ships of unknown capabilities in orbit of Remus, without our knowledge.”
Picard tried to understand why that would disturb her, could think of only one reason. “You’re worried the Tal Shiar have cloaked vessels already in position?”
“Yes,” Norinda said, but something in her tone made Picard feel there was more to her concern. The only thing Picard could link it to was their discussion of Joseph. But why would the child be of any interest to her?
Another question came to Picard. “If you know when the Tal Shiar will strike, do you also know where? And how?”
Norinda nodded. “On the Hour of Opposition, the Tal Shiar will strike Remus, at three key targets.”
“Which three?”
“Worker communes.”
To Picard, Norinda appeared to be having some difficulty choosing the right words to describe the concepts she was trying to impart.
“Understand, Picard, that the vast majority of Remans are male. The sex of children is controlled by the Assessors in the breeding facilities.”
Picard had his own difficulties suppressing his reaction. Again he wondered how the Federation could contemplate entering negotiations with any government capable of propagating such evil. Even though he knew that with the lives of billions at stake, compromises sometimes were inevitable. It was an unfortunate truth, but a truth nonetheless, and one the Vulcans knew well.
“Those males,” Norinda said, “millions of them, are confined to miners’ barracks, deep below in the rock. But there is a secondary workforce here as well—engineers, ore processors, maintenance workers, trauma specialists, cooks, protein harvesters…the support personnel who make it possible for so many miners to be fed and clothed and managed. Those Remans live in worker communes, and miners who survive twenty years in the rock—and there are very few who do—are rewarded by being permitted to take a support job and live closer to the surface in the communes. To the Reman mine worker, they are as close to paradise as their existence offers.”
Picard had another question for Norinda.
“If the communes house the workers who support the mining operations, why destroy them? Why wouldn’t the Tal Shiar strike the mines first, to shut down operations at once, and save the communes so operations could be restored after the war?”
“The communes have another purpose. You know of Reman soldiers?”
Picard frowned. He knew of them. He knew how much the Federation owed their bloodthirsty savagery in the Dominion War. Another compromise.
“And you know of the three warbirds that patrol this world’s orbital reaches, also staffed by Reman crews.”
Picard had been briefed on them as well.
“But have you asked yourself how are they kept in control?” Norinda asked. “Brutalized, exploited, angry slaves, given warp-capable ships with full armament. What holds them in check?”
“They’re strictly for local security,” Picard said, wondering what point Norinda was trying to make. “I’ve been told they’re limited to warp factor two, so they can’t possibly outrun a bird-of-prey. Their fuel supplies are kept low, so they can’t reach another system. And they have no cloaking devices, so they can’t hide.”
Norinda nodded in confirmation. “Plus all their security codes are programmed into every ship in the Imperial Fleet, so their shields can be switched off at will.”
“I understand the conditions,” Picard said. “It would be suicide to use those warbirds to attack Romulan interests.”
“But knowing all that you do of conditions on Remus, do you believe any Reman would hesitate to lose his or her life to strike at a Romulan?”
Picard understood then. It wasn’t just the certainty of death that kept the commanders of the Reman warbirds from acting against Romulus. It was the certainty of retaliation.
“Each warbird is linked to a commune,” Picard said. “Is that it?”
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.
