to probe a mind, and find resistance, and quite another to sense that there was no mind to probe.
Picard was relieved that the Doctor was not bubbling over with observations and insistent queries the way the real Joseph would be, if he were in this ship, on this adventure. The fewer the interactions between Norinda and the Doctor, the better for everyone.
What Norinda’s reaction to the revelation of his betrayal would be then, Picard couldn’t be sure. For a being who professed to be the bearer of peace and love, she seemed to dispense anger and impatience almost as often, and in what she had done to Jim by appearing as Teilani, cruelty as well.
To Picard, it almost seemed as if Norinda’s fundamental personality were as mutable as her body. But where it was becoming easy to predict how she might change her form in order to create a powerful sensual connection with her followers, Picard had yet to detect the pattern of her changes of mood. And it was a given in warfare that the most dangerous enemy was the one whose actions and reactions could not be predicted.
“Jean-Luc,” Norinda said from her pilot’s chair, “look ahead: Worker’s Segment Five, protectorate of the Warbird Atranar.”
The transport banked under Norinda’s guidance, revealing a collection of ribbed domes spread across a black plain. Twisted tendrils of exhaust billowed up from geothermal vents. Lights sparkled behind the domes’ few transparent panels.
A million slaves at least, Picard estimated. Poor wretches. And because their fates were linked to a Reman warbird, the Tal Shiar had marked them for death, along with the inhabitants of two other segments.
The transport returned to its original course, and once again Romulus lay directly ahead, three-quarters full, its seas and land masses clearly visible, as were several storm fronts and the intense, glowing red pinpoints of active volcanoes. The yearly close approach of Romulus and Remus, with the resulting tidal stresses, kept both worlds tectonically active. On Romulus, the results were magnificent seasonal firefalls. Whether there were similar features on Remus, Picard did not know.
Casting his eye on Romulus, he tested his memory by identifying continents and regions, and as he did so Picard began to notice that a haze was developing around the planet. He checked the ground below and saw that the haze was a band of light hugging the horizon.
The transport was approaching the terminator, passing from eternal night to eternal day.
Of course, Picard thought. He remembered the ceiling domes in the chambers of Norinda’s Jolan Segment. She and her followers lived on the dayside of Remus. That fact raised a question.
“Norinda,” Picard asked. “Is there a difference between those Remans who live on the dayside of your world, and those who live on the nightside?”
Norinda looked at Nran, and he turned in his copilot’s chair to answer Picard’s question.
“Almost no Remans live on the dayside. The geologists say the sunward side has been more…geologically active?” He looked to Norinda for confirmation he had his facts in order.
“Continue,” she said, and Nran beamed like a pupil eager for the teacher’s praise.
“More eruptions because of…”
“Tidal stress?” Picard suggested.
The Romulan nodded. “So to mine, we’d have to dig deeper. But on the nightside, not as deep. So that’s where the mines are and…that’s where most of the miners live.”
Picard mulled over Nran’s information. Given the two extremes of illumination on the planet, he’d wondered if there might be a second offshoot of the Romulans with eyes that could tolerate bright light. But if most of the Remans lived underground in darkness, then it followed that most of the Remans would be intolerant of light.
“So, how is it that you came to live on the dayside?” Picard asked.
“We chose to go there,” Nran said. “After Shinzon.”
“You’re allowed to do that?” Picard asked, truly puzzled. “Choose your own living arrangements? On Remus?”
Nran looked at Norinda again, and if she said something to him, Picard couldn’t see past the back of her chair.
“Since Shinzon,” Nran said, “things have been different on Remus.”
“Different in the sense that things are better?”
Nran was about to answer again, but Norinda reached out to touch his arm, the contact instantly making Nran lose his train of thought.
“Just different,” Norinda said. “Almost home.”
She touched a control and the viewport darkened. A moment later the swollen red star of the Romulan home system blazed against the viewport, and Picard thought it likely that without its protective tint, they all might have been temporarily blinded.
A chime sounded from the controls, and Picard felt the transport dip, and even through the darkened port, he could see that on this side of Remus, the black rock shone with a glaring brilliance.
He wondered how it came to pass that Norinda and her followers had been allowed to relocate to this side.
He wondered why they would want to.
But then he put those minor questions aside, and thought again of war and betrayal, and how he might be responsible for both.
Not for the first time, he remembered when he had been an explorer, and wondered if that life would ever be his again.
The next betrayal was Norinda’s.
The transport landed smoothly on a target pad, then floated on antigrav skids to an airlock carved into the side of a small mountain.
An armored door swung down, and the entire chamber, easily the size of the Enterprise’s own hangar deck, was re-pressurized in seconds.
Norinda opened the side hatch of the transport and was the first to leave. Nran followed. Picard helped Joseph out, treating the hologram exactly as he would the real child, not daring to pass a signal even by the slightest eye contact, having no way to tell what level of surveillance they might be subject to.
Then they stepped down from the transport’s hatch ladder to find three Reman guards waiting for them, eyes protected by dark visors, armed with drawn disruptors.
With the deadline of Opposition so close and unchangeable, Picard abandoned civil negotiation. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
Norinda seemed unperturbed. “For your protection. The Tal Shiar is everywhere, and now they know you’ve been trying to reach them. Some among them aren’t pleased by that, Jean-Luc. They think it means you’ve stumbled on their plans, and so they’d prefer to kill you rather than talk.”
“But I have to talk with them. I must!”
“And I do know that,” Norinda said. “And I will arrange it. But I am sure you’d prefer to speak with a member of the Tal Shiar who will listen to you, instead of shooting you on sight.”
Now Picard felt awkward for having jumped to a negative conclusion. Norinda had been following up on her promise, after all. Complications had arisen, but that was understandable. If it was troubling for him to think of an entente between the Tal Shiar and the Federation, it was reasonable to think that the Tal Shiar would be equally skeptical.
“Thank you,” Picard said, deciding a little civility was called for after all. “But with so little time remaining, you can understand my urgency.”
Norinda smiled, but did not use whatever power she had to make a connection, mind to mind. “I do understand. And you will have your meeting.” She glanced at Joseph as she continued to address Picard. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me and my followers in convincing Kirk to let Joseph visit today. And I will show my appreciation in return.” Then she motioned to the guards. “Be patient, Jean-Luc. Not much longer.”
Norinda and Nran left through one personnel door. The three Remans directed Picard and Joseph to another. Picard was intrigued to see that the guards had to duck their heads to step through the door. This facility had not been built with Remans in mind, but for Romulans.
The corridors here were also much different from the first ones Picard had encountered when he and La Forge had escaped with the help of Norinda and her mysterious mercenary—the apparently self-propelled suit of combat armor.
