"Well... I wasn't there," Crusher reminded him. "I was off at the Academy doing my extra year. And when I heard the news, I felt so removed, and I..."

"Wanted answers."

"Yes, sir. I remember, I just sat there in my quarters, shaking my head... I was too stunned even to cry... and I just kept saying, 'Why? Why?'"

"And now you're hoping I might have a few whys and wherefores."

"That's right. sir."

Riker shook his head. Then he walked toward the door and stepped just outside, allowing the rain to spatter on his face. The thunder cracked once more, and over its sound, Riker called out. "I have no answers for you, Wesley! None! But if you want to know what happened... I'll tell you. You're ent.i.tled to that. G.o.d knows we all are."

As if it were an old-fashioned campfire, or perhaps stories being traded in a haunted house, Adm. William Riker sat on the floor of the mausoleum and-holding nothing back-spoke to Wesley Crusher of those last days...

CHAPTER 7.

"Come."

Comdr. William Riker, upon the command/invitation of his superior officer, entered the captain's ready room. Jean-Luc Picard, seated behind his desk, was studying his computer screen and gestured for Riker to sit in front of him. Riker did so, swinging the chair around and straddling it, then waiting patiently for Picard to conclude what he was doing.

He knew that Picard's first expression when he looked away from the computer screen would determine the thrust of the discussion. So Riker breathed an inward sigh of relief when Picard turned the computer display away and smiled up at Riker. Apparently there wasn't going to be any problem.

Still, it never hurt to be cautious. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"Merely to touch base, Number One. How are the delegates settling in?"

"Excellently, sir. I'd say the mood was even somewhat jovial. The Byfrexian, Luss, and Cordian amba.s.sadors, and their aides, have absolutely no complaints with their accommodations... although the Byfrexians did request the atmosphere in their cabin be somewhat chilled. I've attended to that."

"How amazingly minor," said Picard, looking pleasantly surprised. "No problems at all?"

"Well... one small embarra.s.sing moment, I suppose," admitted Riker. "One of the younger children stopped the Cordian amba.s.sador in the hallway and said..."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "Said what?"

"He, um... well, the child seemed to be under the confused impression that the Cordian was, in fact, an accordion. He asked the amba.s.sador to play 'Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star' on himself."

Picard moaned softly. "How did the amba.s.sador react?"

"He took it in stride, actually. He said it's happened to him on several occasions in the past and suggested that it might be time, and I quote, 'to learn how to play the smegging thing.'"

"Good." Picard sat back in his chair in relief. "These sorts of missions are always delicate, Number One. Considering that amba.s.sadors and delegates are supposed to promote interstellar harmony, it's amazing how often these things can degenerate into acrimony and emotional free-for-alls."

"True enough, but I don't think that's going to happen in this instance, sir. Everyone is just so relieved that the Sindareen are willing to put an end to decades of warfare."

"I'm not surprised. I was just updating myself on the conflict, Number One." Picard tapped the computer screen. "Truly amazing. The warlike att.i.tude of the Sindareen is certainly on par with anything the Klingons or the Kreel ever had to offer. What is amazing is not only the aggressiveness with which they fought, and the zealousness with which they pursued every dispute, no matter how trivial... all of that, Number One, is secondary to the fact that they were able to keep it going for so long."

"From everything I read of them," said Riker, "they paid no attention to the fact that their economy was failing apart around their ears."

"Quite right. They kept telling themselves that whatever difficulties they had would disappear once they had conquered their enemies. Except even when they did achieve victories, the results were so devastating that there was nothing left to gain from the conquest-not riches, not any useful goods... nothing."

"A series of Pyrrhic victories."

"Precisely. Until the Sindareen reached a point in their war efforts at which they-to use the old-style vernacular-ran out of gas."

"Suing for peace was the first smart thing that the Sindareen have done in close to a century," said Riker. "They're just d.a.m.ned lucky that their closest enemies-the Cordians, the Byfrexians, and the Luss-were willing to listen. They could have put the screws to them."

"Yes. They could. Hopefully it's a lesson in tolerance and acceptance from which the Sindareen will learn. Nothing would better suit interstellar harmony than to have the Sindareen act in a civilized manner. At the same time, Will"-Picard leaned forward, steepling his fingers-"we have to make sure that whatever resentment the Sindareen might feel with the situation doesn't feed whatever fires of self-satisfaction the amba.s.sadors might have burning in them. They are accomplished, intelligent individuals-but at the same time, in a situation like this, there can be a tendency towards smugness. We'll have to watch that.

"By the same token," Picard continued, "we'll have to keep a wary eye on the Sindareen. Yes, they've sued for peace. But we'll have to make sure they're sincere."

"That certainly sounds like it's right up the counselor's alley."

"I've already spoken with Counselor Troi," said Picard. "She had said that the Sindareen were not always easy to read; that their natural aggression could screen her empathic abilities to some degree."

"I know. But on the other hand, if she's with specific members of the Sindareen long enough, she can 'punch through' that resistance and get a very clear feeling for them."

Picard did not attempt to hide his surprise. "That's right. That's exactly what she said."

His captain's expression informed Riker that an explanation was antic.i.p.ated. Riker simply shrugged. "Deanna had some experience with the Sindareen some time ago."

"And she told you about it?"

"Something like that."

"Is there something that's preventing you from volunteering more information about the counselor's Sindareen experience than you are currently doing?"

"Yes, sir."

"And that would be...?

Riker smiled. "My innate modesty, sir."

"I see," said Picard, and he harrumphed slightly. "Very well, Commander. Far be it from me to compromise your sense of modesty."

"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything else?"

Picard hesitated a moment and then said, "Let's watch ourselves on this one, Will. I agree that everything would appear to be going smoothly. On the other hand, we haven't reached Sindar yet. Once they get here, things could change very drastically. And we have to keep alert for anything vaguely out of the ordinary."

"If there's one thing I've learned, Captain, it's always to watch out for anything out of the ordinary."

"So have we both, Number One. And we've learned it through trial and error... sometimes costly error. And whenever possible-I'd like to avoid more costliness."

"Sometimes, sir, no matter how cautious we are... things happen."

Slowly Picard nodded. "That, Number One, is also something that we must both, reluctantly, agree upon."

CHAPTER 8.

After touching base with Worf to make sure that all security requirements were met, Riker headed down to Deanna Troi's quarters. It was, he felt, a reasonable thing to do-he had already spoken to her about her feelings vis-?-vis the state of mind of the various amba.s.sadors, and because of her report, he had told the captain all was well. Still, it couldn't hurt to confer with her once more and see whether she had picked up on any second thoughts, hidden hostilities-anything that could conceivably interfere with the successful completion of the mission.

He walked up to the door of her quarters and rang the chime. "Deanna?"

At first there was no sound from within and Riker thought that he might have missed her. He tapped his communicator and said, "Computer, locate Counselor Troi."

"Counselor Troi is in her quarters," the computer calmly informed him.

This confused the h.e.l.l out of Riker, and small alarms began to sound in his head. Was there a problem? Was she in danger? Why wasn't she answering?

More insistently now, he rang the door chime and said, "Deanna? Are you all right? It's Will."

The door slid open and Deanna was standing there, wrapped in a gold dressing gown that hung half off her bare shoulder. A naked leg was also visible through the folds, which she pulled shut as an afterthought. She appeared slightly out of breath, and her visible skin was slick and glistening, as if from perspiration-or perhaps some sort of skin moisturizing oil.

"I know it's you, Will."

"Is everything okay? I wanted to talk to you about-"

And then he saw him.

A man-a member of Be Luss delegation, if Riker was remembering correctly-was seated on the bed. He was clearly naked and was self-consciously holding a pillow on his lap. Riker noted that the sheet was on the floor, out of reach.

The man's orange skin was likewise tinted with some sort of moisture, and his ears-normally elegantly pointed-were drooping somewhat, as if in disappointment or letdown.

Riker waited for the sixteen-ton weight that he was sure would momentarily show up to land squarely on his head.

"You're busy," he said lamely.

"I was," was Troi's pointed reply.

Riker was trying to get himself to move, but his feet had apparently turned into large blocks of granite. Blowing air impatiently out between her lips, Deanna took him by the arm and yanked him into her cabin. The door hissed mercifully shut behind him.

Deanna brushed stray strands out of her face and said, with something remotely approaching civility, "Will Riker, this is Dann Lendann-aide to the amba.s.sador of the Luss. Dann is an old... friend. Dann, this is Commander Riker."

"I know." Dann shifted his legs in a vain attempt to look casual. "He welcomed us when we came aboard."

"Yes, although... not as enthusiastically as you apparently did, Counselor," said Riker.

Deanna's dark eyes shot him a look that could have dented the deflector screens. And to Riker's surprise-since she did it so infrequently-her voice sounded in his head: That was a cheap shot, Commander.

"It was just a joke, Counselor," Riker said. "Just... to leaven the moment."

Dann looked from one to the other, sensing that something had just pa.s.sed between them but unable to discern what it was.

"I think, Commander," said Deanna, readjusting the robe around herself as she held it shut, "that the moment would be sufficiently leavened if you left my cabin."

"Of course. Yes, I'll... I'll just be going." Riker backed up, feeling completely lost inside his own body. "Good seeing you, Dann... I mean, not that I expected to see this much of you-"

Deanna stared at him witheringly. Riker chucked a thumb in the direction of the door and she nodded. He turned, and mustering what few shreds of dignity he had left-which weren't much-he went back out into the hallway. The door closed with a very decisive hiss.

He lamed against a wall of the corridor. "Perfect."

Riker sat at his customary table in Ten-Forward, nursing his customary drink. A couple of times, crewmen started to wander in his direction. But when they got dose enough to him to pick up on the unspoken body language that said Leave me alone, they would invariably back off.

Everyone, of course, except Guinan.

The Ten-Forward hostess glided up to the table and simply stood there until Riker looked up.

"The problem is the weather," she said succinctly.

He stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"A traditional entr?e into conversation has always been to discuss something utterly inconsequential; something that no one can do anything about. The weather has always filled the bill. Saying things like 'I think it's clouding up' was always a good way to ease yourself into talking about something a bit more uncomfortable." Guinan inclined her head slightly toward the viewport. "But took at that. Not much to say, is there? 'Hmm... looks like a vacuum today. And they predict more of the same for tomorrow.' You see the difficulty."

It's a formidable obstacle to casual chitchat," said Riker gravely.

She remained standing opposite him. "So is sending out waves of frustration."

"Have I been doing that?"

"Look around you, Riker. There were twice as many people in here when you came in. Half of them left to do something more fun than be near you-like shoot themselves out the photon torpedo tube."

"Bad as all that, am I?"

She waggled her head slightly. "Not that bad. People overreact sometimes. If you were an ensign on custodial detail, that would be one thing. But when the second-in-command looks like he lost his best friend, well... crewmen get a little unnerved by that."

"I'll try to be more sensitive to people's needs."

"Have you?"

"Been more sensitive?

"No. Lost your best friend."

He stared into the contents of the gla.s.s. "I don't know. I acted like an idiot with her."

"I see. And were your actions unforgivable? Did you hit her?"

Riker looked shocked. "Of course not!"