Star Trek: Brinkmanship by Una McCormack Page B

passing at the end of the afternoon session.” If you could call what had happened a session. “Debacle” is more accurate. “But I don’t like to press him too hard, Jean-Luc. He’s in a difficult position.”
    “Hmm.” Picard frowned, but she could see that he agreed. Dygan was loyal, and it was unfair to exploit that loyalty. But he was their best chance of making sense of the approach the Cardassians were adopting.
    “To be honest,” Crusher went on, “my impression is that he’s as confused as the rest of us as to why Detrek has gone in all guns blazing. Ilka’s the same. Cardassian ways are proving enigmatic once again.” She rubbed the sole of her left foot, trying to ease some of her tension. “Of course, the problem is that the crowd is against Detrek now, and she seems not to know how to handle it.”
    “I can’t say that I was delighted to learn that the proceedings were open to anyone who was interested and could fit into the room,” said Picard, and Crusher suppressed a twinge of guilt. She hadn’t been able to warn him before it became manifestly clear what was going on.
    “What about your own mission, Doctor?” Jeyn said. “Have you observed anything out of the ordinary?”
    Crusher shook her head. “The Venetans seem much as they were before. Lively, interested, engaged. Admittedly, the crowd isn’t exactly on our side. That’s new. But I have no evidence to suggest that it’s anything other than disappointment at how we treated them.” And, if I’m being honest, I’m not exactly sure how to go about acquiring any evidence to the contrary.
    “Of course,” Jeyn said morosely, “it’ll only get worse tomorrow. More people coming to watch, more chance for Detrek to lose her temper. Perhaps I should try to see Detrek tonight. Remind her that this is supposed to be a diplomatic mission—”
    Jeyn’s words were cut off by the chime of a communicator. Picard pulled himself out of his seat and went over to receive the transmission.
    “With luck,” Jeyn said, “this will be Akaar instructing us to whip Detrek into line . . .”
    Crusher, settling back further into the deep comfort of the couch, felt something small and hard in her pocket. She drew out the candy she’d been given earlier by the Venetan sitting next to her. She held it in herpalm. I could test it, she thought. See if there’s something wrong with it. Perhaps the Tzenkethi have sabotaged food production in some way. Or the water supply. It would show up in this, surely . . .
    She shook her head. Madness. She popped the candy into her mouth and savored the delicate, floral flavor.
    Across the room, Picard sighed.
    “What does it say, Captain? Is it from the admiral?”
    “Well, yes, it is from the admiral,” he said. “But he says: At all costs, keep the Cardassians sweet. ”
    •   •   •
    The day after her second meeting with Hertome, Efheny arrived at the Department of the Outside to discover that sections of the building were sealed to anyone without a Ret Ata-BB rating or higher, the entrances no longer even visible to the lower grades. In the parts of the building to which she still had access, the people on the superior floors were dashing to and fro, whispering to each other in low, urgent tones. Efheny, mindful of her purpose on Ab-Tzenketh, quickly subvocalized instructions to her data collection devices to pick up and record as much of these discussions as their range allowed.
    Efheny and Hertome did not speak that day. With the Ata maintenance units unable to enter sections of the building, Hertome broke his team into smaller groups, to work as best they could in those parts which remained accessible. Efheny was assigned to Hertome’simmediate junior, Karenzen Ter Ata-D. Their task was to clean a series of conference rooms that had been used throughout the night as a result of whatever panic was currently on. The rooms were full of the detritus of the hasty meals taken by the problem