Star Trek: Brinkmanship by Una McCormack Page A

our company, and already you have a much better idea of how to deal with us. Perhaps more time is all that you need. Come,” she said. “According to our schedule, I now have to show you our medical facilities. I think you’ll be impressed.”
    Dax was impressed, and for more reasons than she’d anticipated. The medical station was larger than she would have expected for a base of this size; moreover,it was staffed entirely by Tzenkethi. Five of them, moving around the space like highly trained dancers, taking measured, careful steps. Dax heard a noise overhead and looked up to see three more Tzenkethi, upside down, apparently hanging from the ceiling.
    Dax’s stomach lurched giddily before she realized that some sort of local gravity devices must have been installed to enable the Tzenkethi to use all available surfaces. Certainly it was efficient, but the effect of several of them at once, and from all angles, was almost overpowering. Their luminosity drowned out the naturalistic lighting of the room and, furthermore, their skin tones seemed constantly in flux, altering slightly as members of the team passed each other. Dax assumed that these variations constituted some form of communication, like body language and gesture in other species, and found herself quite dazzled by the shimmering display all around her. She had only a moment to admire it, however. Alden, standing beside her, muttered something under his breath and then retreated from the room. Quickly, Dax made her apologies to Heldon and followed him out.
    Alden was propped up against the wall, bent double, hands pressed against his thighs, head down, and taking deep, shaky breaths. Dax recognized a panic attack when she saw one and put her hand on his shoulder.
    “That’s right, Peter,” she said gently. “Deep breaths.” After a moment or two, his breathing steadied, and he straightened up.
    “Sorry,” he said. “Don’t know what came over me.”
    “Vertigo, I imagine,” Dax replied cheerfully, although she didn’t think that was even the half of it.
    Hyatt came out to join them. She looked worriedly at Alden. “Everything okay?”
    “Vertigo,” said Dax. “You know those gravitational envelopes, Susan. They can play merry hell with the inner ear.”
    Hyatt’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded, and Dax patted Alden’s shoulder. “Coming back in, or staying out here?”
    “I’ll come back in.”
    They all turned to go back into the sickbay, but before they could enter, Dax’s communicator chimed. She tapped her fingers against it.
    “Dax, here.”
    “Leishman. Any chance of a quick word in private, Captain? There’s something you should know.”
    •   •   •
    “That,” said Ambassador Jeyn, “was a disaster.”
    Crusher, Picard, and Jeyn had retreated to the private suite assigned to the senior Federation delegates in the Hall of Assembly. The main room was a pleasant circular chamber with comfortable couches arranged around a small pond. There was even a fountain, although it was not currently operating. Flower beds were set between each of the couches—not potted plants, Crusher noted, but patches of earth set into the stone floor, merging the line between interior and exterior. It made the room feel fresh, and under other circumstanceswould have been relaxing. Crusher, sitting on one of the couches, kicked off her boots, tucked her feet beneath her, and took a swig of wine. Picard, sighing, lowered himself into the seat beside her.
    “Cardassians,” he muttered darkly. “It’s not as if I wanted them along in the first place.” He tapped his fingers against the arm of the couch and burst out, “What the hell is Detrek playing at?”
    “Who knows?” Jeyn said. “I’ve tried to speak to Admiral Akaar, but he seems to be permanently unavailable. His office has promised he’ll get back to me within the hour.”
    Picard grunted and sipped his wine. “Did you get a chance to speak to Dygan, Beverly?”
    “Only in