IMBALANCE

Chapter One

Captain's Log, Stardate 44839.2:The Enterprise is en routeto Beltaxiyan Minor, a Jaradan outpost inthe Archimedes Sector. The Jarada, anexacting and reclusive race, have contacted theFederation with a request to negotiate an exchangeof ambassadors. In addition, theyspecifically requested the services of thecaptain of the Enterprise as chiefnegotiator.

Personal Log, Continuing:While I am only too happy to furtherpeaceful relations between the Federation and itsneighbors, the nature of this assignment is enoughto give anyone pause. The Jaradan attitudetoward protocol is as demanding as theirisolationism is strict. One can't help butwonder if there is more to their request than asimple exchange of ambassadors.

"Comments, anyone?" Captain Jean-LucPicard glanced around the table in his ready roomto see which of his officers wanted to add something to thebriefing. Riker, Geordi, Troi, Crusher,and Worf all wore frowns of varying degrees,telegraphing their opinions as clearly as if theyhad spoken. Only Lieutenant CommanderData, his golden eyes alight with anticipationat the discoveries he had made about theirassignment, seemed oblivious to the tension in theroom. So .be it, Picard thought, recognizingthe signs of an imminent lecture. "Mr.Data, would you give us your report, please?""Certainly, Captain." The android cockedhis head to one side, as if to better analyze hisinformation as he reported it. "I have run searcheson all available databases, including everyclassified system to which I could gain access in thetime available. I have located fifteen referencesto the Jarada that have been recorded in the last fiveyears. Unfortunately, the only report that isnot based on second-hand or hearsay information isour own contact with the Jarada at Torona IVon Stardate 41997.7."Commander William Riker leaned forward, hiselbows on the table and the forefingers of hisclasped hands pointed toward Data. The frownon his handsome face had deepened while Data hadbeen speaking. "In other words, we know as much aboutthis situation as anyone.""I believe that would be a correctanalysis, Commander. There is very little informationto support any conclusions about the Jarada or theirmotives."Dr. Beverly Crusher looked up from the darkpolished surface of the table, brushing her redhair away from her face with an impatient flipof her hand. "The same goes for their biology andsocial structure. I've gone over everythingI could find and I still don't know enough to draw anyconclusions. We know they are insect-like, but Ican't even tell you what the appropriate modelis. Is their society analogous to that ofEarth's ants? Or bees? Or termites?"She shrugged, lifting her empty palmsto emphasize the gesture. "Perhaps a model from adifferent planet would be more appropriate. I justdon't know.""Understood, Doctor." Picard's fingerstightened around his stylus, a concession to hisfrustration even though he had expected thenegative reports. If the assignment hadbeen easy, Starfleet would not have given it to theEnterprise. "Mr. La Forge, do you haveanything to say?""About the orbit?" Lieutenant CommanderGeordi La Forge looked up, breaking theintense concentration he had been giving his computerpadd. As he moved his head, the room's lightsdanced off the gold and silver band of his VISOR."It will be tricky, but nothing the ship can't handle.The orbital dynamics are fairly complicatedbecause of the large number of objects in theBeltaxiyan system. Our biggest problems willcome in the first few hours, while we collect enoughinformation on the system to define our orbit and theorbits of everything in the area.""Mr. La Forge is correct." Dataglanced at the chief engineer before returning hisattention to the captain. "The Beltaxiyansystem has not been thoroughly exploredby Federation researchers. Our information indicates thatthere are two planets within the star's habitablezone. Beltaxiyan Major is a gas giantwith a mass approximately twice that ofJupiter. Beltaxiyan Minor followsa highly inclined orbit around the gas giant, withan orbital period of five Earth days.Beltaxiyan Minor's rotational period islocked into a three to two resonance with itsorbital period. The system also contains alarge number of smaller satellites andmoonlets as well as several other planets indistant orbits, but we have insufficientinformation--""Thank you, Mr. Data. That will be all fornow." In spite of his best intentions, Picardcould not completely conceal his impatience with theandroid's lecture on orbital mechanics.The complexity of the Beltaxiyan system and theinadequacy of their knowledge added to the difficulty of theirmission, but only Data could find material foran hour's lecture on the subject. Aflicker of amused affection passed through thecaptain's mind and his mood softened. Theprospect of dealing with the Jarada had them all alittle on edge.Picard closed his eyes briefly,remembering their last encounter with the Jarada. Hehad spent days practicing the requiredfifteen-second greeting until hispronunciation and intonation had been perfect.Even now, the memory of that tense moment when theyall waited to hear if he had passed theJaradan test left his palms slick with nervousperspiration. No, this assignment would not be aneasy one. That the Jarada had contacted theFederation suggested that they wanted something--and wantedit badly. It was his job--and the Enterprise's--to discover what the Jarada wanted as quickly aspossible, before prolonged contact gave them toomany opportunities to unwittingly make aserious diplomatic faux pas. "Doesanyone have something to add to the discussion?""Only that the away team cannot be too carefulwhile they're on the planet." Riker rubbed hishand along his jaw, scraping it against his short,dark beard. "The mission profile contains very littleinformation. Nothing there convinces me that the Jaradaaren't playing a double game. We can't relaxeven the slightest bit until we know what theywant.""Agreed." Picard glanced at each of hissenior officers, making sure that they understood thedifficulties facing them. "If there are nofurther questions, meeting dismissed."

"Keiko sweetheart, I don't see why thecaptain insisted that you go on this mission."Transporter Chief Miles O'Brien'sface was creased with a worried frown as he watchedhis wife flip through the list of reference texts onher computer. She seemed so tiny, so fragile,and he didn't like to think of her facing the unknownrisks of Beltaxiyan Minor.For her part, Keiko was hunched over the screenas if to block out his concern with the intensity of herconcentration. Frustrated by her lack ofresponse, O'Brien looked for another wayto get her attention. "This could be a dangerousmission, sweetheart. Don't you think someoneelse should be the one to go down to the planet? Someonebetter equipped to handle a bunch of overgrownlocusts?""Dangerous?" Keiko finally looked up,grimacing at the taste of the word that had caught herattention. "Dangerous? A diplomaticmission?"Taken aback by her tone, O'Brien couldonly stare at her for a moment. "Well, yes.We know so little about these people, and they're very touchy."He paused to regroup his thoughts. "Shouldn't thecaptain have assigned, maybe, Deyllar to goinstead?""Deyllar? That big ox?" Keiko's toneshifted from anger to open contempt. "All he knowsis how to catalog plants after someone tellshim what they are." She drew in a deep breath,trying to curb her annoyance. "I volunteeredfor this assignment. I signed aboard theEnterprise to do field work, not sit in someoffice going over somebody else's specimens.""But don't you think it would be better if youleft this particular planet for someone else? Suchas one of the officers who normally handles theseassignments?"Turning her chair to face him, Keikoplanted her fists on her hips. Anger madeher lovely face as dark as a thundercloud."Miles, just because I married you doesn't meanI need you to tell me how to do my job. Do Itell you how to fix the transporters? I am theperson best able to handle this assignment. I'mgoing and that's final." She spun her chair awayfrom him, focusing her attention on the computer withintense concentration."But, sweetheart, what about our six-monthanniversary? Don't you remember?" Frustrationsharpened O'Brien's tone, which he fought to keepeven. He had put a lot of care into planning thespecial private evening that would celebrate theanniversary of their first meeting."Our what?" Scowling, Keiko pulled herselfaway from her work again. Her forgetfulness sent aflare of anger through O'Brien, but before he couldsay anything, Keiko's expression shiftedto exasperation. "Miles, that's three days from now.If you don't stop interrupting me, it will takeme that long to get ready for this assignment!"Before O'Brien could muster a new set ofarguments, his communicator chirped. With a sigh heacknowledged the signal. Commander La Forge neededhim in the transporter room to check the equipmentcalibrations against the incoming data for theBeltaxiyan system. The radiation readings,even this far from Bel-Major's magneticfield, exceeded the Enterprise's normaloperating range.

"You're concerned about the mission, W." DeannaTroi's lilting voice was soft, pitched forRiker's ears only even though Ten-Forward wasalmost deserted. Later, there would be an influx offriends meeting for lunch, but for now, only one othertable on the far side of the room was occupied. "Doyou want to talk about it?"Riker sighed and took a bite of his sandwichto delay his answer. Through the viewport beside theirtable, he could see the growing points of light thatmarked the Beltaxiyan system--the hotyellow-white disk of the sun, the bright spot thatmarked the gas giant Bel-Major, the dimmerpinpricks of Bel-Minor and the system's lessersatellites. This complex system would make afascinating study if it weren't for the puzzle of theJarada. "It's just that, the last time we haddealings with these people, they didn't want to speak withme. I was just a--I believe "meresubordinate" was the term they used. Now they'veinvited me to their world as an honored guest. Do youwonder that I'm a bit jumpy about the situation?""Not at all." Troi smiled at the reliefshe sensed her words had given him. "In fact,I would be concerned if you weren't a little nervous.Facing the unknown with too much complacency hasgotten more than a few men killed.""You sure know how to reassure a person."He said the words deadpan, but after a moment hisface cracked into a grin.Troi chuckled with him. "It is my job, youknow. Someone has to keep you command types groundedin reality.""Touch`e." Riker turned his attention to hislunch, polishing it off quickly so he could getback to duty. He hadn't really been hungry,but he knew they would be too busy later for himto take a break. As it was, he finished aheadof Troi. While he waited for her, he allowedhimself the luxury of admiring how the glow from the tablepainted golden highlights on her cheekbones anddisappeared into the midnight cascade of her hair.Friends and once more than friends, the understanding between them waspart of the teamwork that made the Enterprise such aspecial place for him. "Don't you have anydoubts about this mission?" he asked as Troifinished her sandwich.Briefly, she considered the question and her answer."Of course I have doubts. We don't have enoughinformation about the Jarada or their situation." Shestood and started away from the table, flashing him agrin over her shoulder. "However, if we had moreinformation, we would have to wonder how much of it waswrong. If you're after certainties in thisuniverse, Will, you'll have to deal with something otherthan living beings."Nodding to himself, Riker followed her from theroom. As many times as he had seen her do it, asoften as he reminded himself that it was her job, it stillamazed him when she gave him the perfectresponse for a given mood and situation.

Lieutenant Commander Data watched theBeltaxiyan system approach on theviewscreen, marveling at the variety ofobjects that orbited the Beltaxiyan star and theintricacy of their orbits. One part of his brainpiloted the ship, monitoring their approach through theasteroid belts and outer planets, while otherparts studied the orbits of Bel-Major'scompanions, logged four irregularly shapedmoonlets circling Bel-Minor, correlatedthe wind-speed variations across Bel-Major'slatitudinal belts, and cross-checked theradiation levels reported by their sensors with themost recent models for stellar processes in theyellow-white stars.The readings for Beltaxiya were higher thanexpected, about two standard deviations aboveaverage, and finding an explanation for thediscrepancy promised to be an intriguing problemfor him to solve while the away team was on theplanet's surface. He checked the radiationlevels again to assure himself that they presented nodanger to the Enterprise or its crew, but foundno cause for alarm. The humans would have to remainon one of the smaller worldlets for several weeksbefore the radiation dosage would give them problems.On Bel-Minor, even though the backgroundradiation was higher than recommended for permanenthuman settlement, the planet's magneticfield would provide sufficient protection forseveral months. The only problem the radiationmight cause would be distortions of the sensor readingsproportional to the radiation flux, but since theyweren't planning to do any detailed planetaryscans on this mission, he didn't need to worryabout compensating for the variations.Turning his attention to more immediate concerns, Databegan refining his orbital calculations for theship's approach to Bel-Minor. Unlike anormal planetary system, holding a "standardorbit" around Bel-Minor put the Enterpriseinto an extremely complicated cloverleaf orbitaround Bel-Major. In addition, they hadto avoid Bel-Minor's small moons,Bel-Major's mostly uncharted satellites,and the assorted asteroids that cluttered the resonancepoints of the various orbits. Someday, Datasupposed, a mathematician would discover ageneral solution to describe the paths ofmultiple bodies orbiting the same primary,but until then the only way to solve the problem wasby successive approximations. He excelled atsuch work, where his unique abilities could be usedto their fullest. Clearly, he had gotten the bestjob out of this assignment, being left in command of theEnterprise, where he could study this complex andintriguing planetary system while the othersbeamed over to Bel-Minor. He supposed heshould add diplomacy to his list of studies, buttoday it seemed far less interesting than thescientific puzzles that were spreading themselves acrossthe viewscreen. * * *Worf watched Beltaxiyan Minor grow froma point to a disk on the mainviewscreen, each minute bringing closer the momentwhen they would leave the ship to carry out their mission.He was not pleased with their orders, did not agreewith Starfleet's decision which placed both thecaptain and the first officer at risk on theplanet below. Commander Riker was correct--theycould not afford to relax their vigilance for even asecond.Starfleet should not have required both seniorofficers as well as most of the command crew to bepresent for the negotiations. Worf did not like thoseorders. He did not like them at all.Diplomacy should be handled by diplomats, and theFederation should not have accepted the Jaradan terms whichrequired the captain of the Enterprise to be thechief negotiator.Calling up what little information the ship's computerhad on the Jarada, Worf reviewed it for thefifth time since the briefing. He did not trustthese beings, these insectlike creatures whoprovided so little information about themselves and yetexpected everyone to meet them on the preciseterms they dictated. Trust was a thing that must beearned, and the Jarada seemed to be going out of theirway to irritate him. Everything Worf knew aboutthem so far reminded him of Federation bureaucrats--their love of protocol and precedence, ofprecise timetables and schedules set withoutconsulting the other party. He found it difficultto believe that such persnickety creatures hadanything to offer the Federation.At least the captain was taking a reasonableapproach to security on this assignment. Worfhad no real interest in meeting the Jarada andhaving them confirm his worst expectations about them,but he had even less desire to allow the captainout of his sight. As long as Worf was included onthe away team, he knew that nothing would happento Captain Picard. The reason for that was verysimple--he would not allow anything to happen.A light started blinking on the console infront of him. He acknowledged the incomingmessage from the Jaradan Council of Elders andthen summoned Picard from his ready room. WhetherWorf liked it or not, the negotiations were aboutto begin.

"On screen," Picard ordered as he strodedown the sloping ramp. He crossed the space infront of the command area and stopped between theforward stations, tugging the waist of his dress uniformjacket into place. The screen switched from aview of the approaching planets to a flickeringgold and green pattern. After a moment this fadedto show the torso of a being seated in a dimly litroom.Picard gestured for Worf to adjust thecontrols, and the picture brightened. The triangularface was all planes and angles, makingPicard think of an ebony mantis enlargedto human size. The Jarada had a narrow pointedsnout and a hooked jaw with sharp, shearing teeth in thefront. Interference patterns sent every color of therainbow flickering across the flat central facetof the large compound eyes, and the Jarada's long,feathery antennae vibrated at the smallestsound. When the alien realized that Picard waswatching, he began speaking."Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federationstarship Enterprise. We of the Jarada greetyou." The voice was reedy and sounded as if severalpeople were speaking at once."Kk-hegg-ra'lesh bre-feg'ra lethc'fre@fflet ji!" Picard answered, hopinghe had gotten the proper inflections into the nearlyunpronounceable sentence. The pronunciation keythat had come with this greeting--"We of the Federation arehonored to serve"--had not been as detailed as theprevious message he had been requiredto deliver to the Jarada. For a moment after hefinished speaking, Picard held his breath,waiting.The Jarada lowered his head in acknowledgment, thelight gleaming off the smooth black planes of hiscranium. Chitin or chitin-analog,Picard thought, wondering if Beverly Crusher wouldget a chance to examine these creatures indetail. The Federation needed to learn so much aboutthese people.As if reading Picard's eagerness to begin theirtalks, the Jarada raised his head and respondedto the greeting. "Your Federation honors us with yourpresence. We will be ready to begin our discussions inten of your minutes, if you and your workmates canarrive at our Council Chambers then. We willconsent to conduct the negotiations in your languageif you prefer, because we have learned that the tonalvalues of our language are difficult for yourrace to reproduce."You honor us with your gesture."Picard was surprised, and more than a littlepuzzled, by the offer. After almost a century ofmaking other beings dance to their tune, the concession wasincredible. Either he had misunderstood the Jaradacompletely or the alien wanted something sodesperately that he was willing to do anything to getit. Neither possibility boded well for the mission,but Picard had no way to choose the correctexplanation as long as he remained on theEnterprise. The only way to find out was to beamover to the planet. "We shall arrive in tenminutes."The Jarada bowed his head again, this time bending sofar over that his face and antennae nearly touched theconsole in front of him. "The honor is oursentirely. We shall await your arrival."The screen faded back to the green and goldpattern, and Picard turned to his command crew."You all know your assignments. Mr. Data, youhave the conn. Away team, with me." He startedfor the turbolift without checking to see that Worf,Riker, and Troi fell in behind him. The doorsclosed on the sound of Data ordering Crusher andKeiko to report to the transporter room.

Chapter Two

Picard and the rest of the away team--Riker,Troi, Crusher, Worf, and Keiko--materialized in a courtyard near the center of theGovernance Complex. They were walled in by a densegrove of trees, the thick trunks and twistingbranches making it impossible for them to see morethan a few meters in any direction. Thetemperature was warmer than Picard hadexpected, with the building around the courtyardblocking off any breeze and the walls and brickwalkways holding in the sun's heat. A heavyresiny scent, like a mixture of cedar and oliveoil, wrapped itself around them.Through gaps in the dense blue-green foliage,Picard caught glimpses of earth-tonedwalls, muted browns and reds and ochres thatrefused to coalesce into an organized pattern.Behind him something skittered against the rough bricksof the walkway. Worf whirled to face the sounds,reaching for his phaser before he remembered this was adiplomatic mission.Riker was only a moment slower than theKlingon, but relaxed almost immediately when hesaw that the four Jarada approaching them were unarmedand wore ceremonial sashes of brightly colored,knotted cords across their thoraxes. By the time therest of the away team had finished turning, theJarada were crouched in a ritual greetingposture.The insectoids had four pairs of limbs,with the lowermost set, the thick and sturdystrong-legs, used to support most of the body'sweight and to provide the power they needed when theymoved. Immediately above the strong-legs were the longerand more slender balance-legs, which served to steady theirbodies after a long leap or to hold their torsosin a prescribed orientation, as now, when they weretucked close together beneath their abdomens in the formalcrouch.The Jarada had barrellike segmented torsosthat gleamed with an almost metallic luster, as thougheach Jarada had polished its carapace untilit glistened. Two sets of arms were attached to theupper end of their torsos, the lower pair largerand the top pair almost vestigial. The Jaradaextended their larger true-arms toward their guests,holding their three-clawed hands facing upward,while crossing their tiny feeding-arms over theirupper thoraxes.Their heads, Picard noted again, were allplanes and angles with narrow snouts and broadforeheads. Large compound eyes with broad centralfacets surrounded by smaller side facets wereset on the sides of their heads, and their faces wereframed by long, feathery antennae that quivered atevery sound.The largest Jarada, a space-blackindividual who wore a heavily ornamented sashand was about as tall as Keiko, took one stepforward and repeated the formal crouch. Behind him, theother three Jarada bent their legs to bring theirbodies still closer to the ground. "Greetings,Picard-Captain and esteemed guests. I amZelfreetrollan, First Among Council forthose of the People who dwell on this planet. Yourpresence honors our lowly Hive."Picard bowed and extended his palms outward inthe closest approximation he could make to theJarada's gesture. From the corner of his eye hecould see the rest of the away team copying hismovements. "First Among Council, your invitationhonors my people, both those that accompany me onmy vessel and those on the hundreds ofworlds that belong to our Federation. It is our fondesthope that we can reach an agreement that will enable youto join us in a full partnership which will enrich allour people."Zelfreetrollan flexed his legs,briefly dipping into a deeper crouch. "Our people,too, share that wish. We will conduct you now to aMeditation Chamber, where you can prepare yourselves for thebeginning of our discussions. When you have recoveredsufficiently from your journey, we will require thatour Protocol Officer attend upon you andinstruct you on the Way of our Hive." Afteranother deep crouch he turned and started down thewalk in the direction from which he had come. The otherthree Jarada, all smaller thanZelfreetrollan and with russet- orchestnut-colored exoskeletons, steppedaside until the away team had passed them.A spicy odor, like cinnamon or nutmeg,hit Picard as the three Jarada fell in behind theaway team as an honor guard. Suddenly he wasseven years old again, watching his mother gratenutmeg for gnocchis, the shell-like dumplings shehad made for family dinner every Sunday of hischildhood.Shaking off the memory, Picard focused hisattention on the Jarada. Zelfreetrollanmoved quickly in spite of his height, with hisstrong-legs reaching out in wide arcs that covered theground more easily than a human's and hisbalance-legs catching his weight to extend hisstride. His chitin-covered feet clicked against thebricks like the mechanical tapping of an intakecontroller putting its valves through adiagnostics sequence.The thick trees opened out before broad, shallowstairs that led to the entrance of a building that seemedthrown together from a random collection of bulbousshapes, each a different color of earth-huedplaster. The upper stories sprouted from the lowerat odd intervals, as if the structure were avital entity with a will of its own, and the top levelsprouted a central tower that could have beentransplanted from Angkor Wat. Thebuilding's windows were round and had been placedwithout reference to any architectural theory thatPicard had ever encountered. In fact, the captainthought as they approached the steps, the structureseemed more organic than constructed, almost as ifit had grown from the seed of a buildingplant.They entered the building and Zelfreetrollanturned left, leading them down a low, widecorridor that smelled strongly of spices--amixture of cinnamon, cloves, and other thingsless identifiable. After the brightness of thecourtyard, the dim lighting inside made theceiling seem even lower than it was. Picardnoticed that Riker, after bending to get through thedoorway, kept ducking his head as though he werefighting against the feeling that he was about to strike hishead against the rough plaster above him. In contrastto the uneven finish on the walls and ceiling, thefloor was an exquisite mosaic of brightlycolored tiles deeply set into mortar to givethe floor an uneven surface.Some of the designs were geometric, sharpoutlines and precise shapes of saturatedcolor so brilliant that even in the subduedlight they seemed to glow with an inner radiance thatmade Picard's eyes water. Other segmentsof the floor seemed to depict realistic scenes,possibly events in the history of the Jarada, butwithout more time he could not interpret what he wasseeing.When they passed one of the windows, Worfpaused for a moment. The glass was set back onthe interior edge of the wall, which was nearly half ameter thick. Decorative leading divided thewindow into small panes, each one a structurallyisolated unit. Worf grunted and leaned forwardto study the construction more closely. Behind him theskitter of the Jarada's claws against the tilefloor reminded him of their mission. The Klingonstraightened abruptly, almost banging his head againstthe ceiling. Half a dozen quick strides broughthim even with the rest of the away team.Picard lifted an eyebrow when Worfcaught up with them, but the Klingon's only answerwas a deepening of his normal scowl. The captainshrugged and turned his attention back to their course,trying to memorize the various branchings andturnings. Worf would tell them what he had seenwhen he was ready, and in the meantime, the randomappearance of the building's exterior was carried throughto the layout of its interior.Although they were on a diplomatic mission wherethey should not need to worry about making rapidescapes from enemy territory, long-standinghabits were hard to ignore. Away teamleaders who became lost could get both themselves andtheir teams killed, and Picard had no intention ofletting himself be caught in such a situation. Hehad chosen good people, and he was sure the rest of the teamwere also taking notes on where they were going, butPicard did not want to have to depend on someoneelse to guide him out of the maze of the GovernanceComplex. This mission contained enough unknown dangerswithout inviting trouble by so obvious a mistake.After several minutes of climbing and turning,Zelfreetrollan stopped before an ornatelycarved door. Two of the Jarada following theaway team hurried forward, their claws clickingagainst the tiles. The odor of cinnamon grewstronger as they approached. Both Jarada crouchedbefore Picard, then the smaller one opened the doorfor the away team."Refreshments await you inside,Picard-Captain, and a place to rest from yourjourney." Zelfreetrollan dipped his head inan abbreviated bow. "The honor guard willremain outside, if there is anything more that yourequire. Unless you request otherwise, ourProtocol Officer will arrive in one-half ofone of your hours, and our discussions will beginshortly thereafter."Picard bowed in acknowledgment. "Yourarrangements are most satisfactory, FirstAmong Council.""Then I will send an escort for you at theproper time." Zelfreetrollan crouched inresponse to Picard's bow. He held theposition until the away team had filed through thedoor, each one bowing to him as he or she passed.Finally, the door swung shut, leaving the awayteam by themselves.Worf pulled out his tricorder and beganscanning the room, pausing every few steps to sweepthe walls from floor to ceiling. Like thecorridors, the walls were rough-finished plaster,a soft beige near the door that darkened to ochreon the outer wall near the windows. The colorscheme made the room seem light and airy,even though the low ceiling had been designedto accommodate the shorter Jarada. Unlike thecorridor, the air contained only a hint ofspiciness, a memory of the much stronger smellsoutside.The room was furnished with a long, narrow table,two low couches, and several short,four-legged stools with padded, oddly shaped seats.Riker examined one of the stools, prodding the ribbedfabric to feel how the seat was built. From theshape and from the location of the padding, the stoolsappeared to have been designed to support aJarada's abdomen while the insectoid restedone or both sets of feet."Not built with humans in mind, NumberOne?" Picard's voice held a trace ofamusement. Given the Jarada's body form, thedesign was elegant and eminently practical."I'm afraid not." Riker continued hisexamination, as if the stool might tell him more aboutits creators. The legs were of a smooth darkwood, strongly braced and fastened with woodenpegs. In contrast to the room's door, thestool's legs were undecorated.Picard lowered himself into the nearest couch, thinkinghow strange it was to seat himself on furniture thatwas barely off the floor. The honey-coloredupholstery was smooth and cool to the touch, but thecushions were indented, the padding shapedto accommodate a Jarada's body form. Picardshifted position, feeling a bit like a schoolboysquirming at his desk, but after a moment he founda comfortable spot.Crusher walked over to the table, which held afluted pitcher and several flared glasses. Shepassed her tricorder over the pitcher and waitedfor the results. The device whirred and clickedto itself, taking so long to answer that a frown appearedon the doctor's face. She was reaching forRiker's tricorder to repeat the analysis whenthe readout appeared. The drink was a concentratedfruit nectar, almost as sweet as pure honey."I wouldn't recommend drinking this stuffstraight," Crusher told them. "But if anyoneis thirsty, we can cut it with water to make areasonable punch."Picard glanced around, spotting a door on thefar wall which led to a small washroom. "Perhapswe should, Doctor. We would not want to offend ourhosts by refusing their hospitality."With Troi's help, Crusher diluted thefruit syrup and handed the glasses around. Oneby one the away team took seats on the couches.Worf was last to join them, coming to stand opposite thecaptain when he finished scanning the room."Comments, anyone?" Picard asked."There are no obvious listeningdevices." Worf's voice, like the grumble ofdistant thunder, was a warning of possible troubleahead. "However, the acoustics of this room are suchthat the ventilation ducts could reflect our words to adetector that does not register on mytricorder."Riker's eyebrow rose in surprise. Helooked around the room again, his face showing newrespect for the building's designers. "Iassume you're suggesting that we act as though weare being monitored, then?""I assume that we are being monitored."Worf straightened to attention, his head brushing theceiling. "An enemy commander will use all meansat his disposal to learn our plans.""This is a diplomatic mission, Mr.Worf." Despite the words, there was a twinklein Picard's eye. The Klingon's adversarialapproach to life underscored the potential forconflict that underlay any diplomatic mission,especially one where they had so little information about thebeings with which they were dealing. While the Enterpriseteam would do everything possible to promote goodrelations with the Jarada, they could not ignore thepossibility that the Jarada might have other ideas."Yes, Captain." Worf's tone concedednothing."Counselor?"Deanna Troi shifted position, a thoughtfullook on her face. "I am havingdifficulties interpreting what I sense about theJarada. Everything is very confused and--distorted.Almost as though something were blocking me.""Do you mean--deliberately?" Crusherasked, looking up from her medical tricorder.Absently, she brushed a lock of her copperyhair away from her face and reached for her glass.Diluted, the fruit nectar was not bad, itsflavor similar to a mixed fruit beverageavailable from the ship's food service.Frowning in response to the doctor's question,Troi cocked her head to one side and triedto sort through her impressions. Finally, she shookher head. "I don't think so. But there is alot of background noise, almost like static.Perhaps because the Jarada are so different from us, Iam having difficulty sensing the patterns to theiremotions.""Doctor?""I got low-quality scans of allthe Jarada who met us. It was the best I could dowith the tricorder on automatic." Crusherflicked her gaze back at the tricorder'sscreen for a moment. "I will, of course, need alarger sample before I can make any definitivestatements about Jaradan biology. However, theyhave at least three sexes and display a certainamount of sexual polymorphism.""Three?" Riker's voice registeredsurprise. "I didn't see any obviousdifferences."Crusher grinned at his reaction. "Thetricorder is a little better at such things than thehuman eye. It reports thatZelfreetrollan is male, although the readingsseem to indicate that he is sterile. The guardsare neuter, with no sign that they were ever anythingelse. With the required females to produceoffspring, that gives a minimum of threesexes.""A minimum?" Picard asked. "Do you havereason to suspect there might be more?""Insect physiology is extremelycomplex, Captain, even among the lower ordersfound on most planets. We have so fewexamples of intelligent insectoid races thatit's almost impossible to draw a general conclusion.The most extreme case known is theTal'rekswee of Naks@ffzray Four. Theyhave six sexes--fertile and infertile males andfemales, plus neuters derived from eachgender."Keiko leaned forward, glancing briefly atthe doctor's tricorder. "Most insectsocieties are extremely hierarchical, with thefunction of the individual determined by what is goodfor the society as a whole. This is particularlyevident in the area of reproduction, where thecapability of propagating the species isconcentrated in a very few individuals. All theresources of the society are focused onprotecting and providing for the few fertilemembers of the insect colony." Pausing forbreath, Keiko saw that her speech, on asubject so far outside her specialty, hadcaught the others off guard. She squared hershoulders, her posture challenging anyone to question herexpertise. "Many species of plants arefertilized by insects. I became interested in howthey functioned.""Very good, Ms. Ishikawa." Picard glancedat each of his officers. "Does anyone have somethingbesides speculation to contribute?""I do, Captain." Worf took a stepforward. "This structure is built like afortress. The walls are very thick and made ofnonflammable materials. Also, the leading between thepanes in the windows is structural, notdecorative. The bars are sturdy and firmlyanchored in the surrounding masonry.""Indeed? That is useful to know." In his mind,Picard replayed their walk through the corridors,taking conscious note of details he had seenalong the way. With its multiple levels andtwisting corridors, the Governance Complex wouldmake a formidable stronghold, almost impenetrableto anyone who did not have an accurate map. "Issuch defensive architecture a recentdevelopment, or are we looking at a long-standingsocietal characteristic?""Impossible to say, Captain." Crushergave him an apologetic smile. "Theinsectoid societies for which we have information areexceedingly traditional and maintain theircultural patterns for millennia when notperturbed by outside influences."Riker rubbed his hand across the dark bristles ofhis beard. "In other words, we're going to haveto study the Jarada in detail to learn whatmakes them tick."Crusher nodded, a rueful smile spreadingacross her face. "I'm afraid so, W. It'salmost impossible to extrapolate anything about aconservative society. And since all theexamples we have of insectoid races arehighly conservative, we must assume that this is theappropriate model to use until we obtaincontradictory information. Furthermore, we needto remember that in general, insectoid behavioris extremely formalized and incorporates alarge number of ritualized behaviors.""I hadn't noticed," Riker muttered under hisbreath. The volume was carefully gauged, loud enoughfor everyone to hear but soft enough for the captainto ignore.Picard stood, bringing the discussion to a close."In that case, we'll all have to keep our eyesand ears open for every possible bit of information. The morewe know about the Jarada, the greater our chances ofmaintaining friendly relations with them."As if in answer to Picard's words, someonerapped on the door. After a moment theintricately carved panel swung inward. Asmall copper-colored Jarada crouched to greetthem, then said, "I am called Zelnixcanlon.If you are ready, I am assigned to you asProtocol Officer to counsel you in the Ways ofour Hive. Is there any information you wish from mebefore I conduct you to the Council Chambers to beginthe negotiations?"Picard returned the Jarada's bow. "Wethank you, Zelnixcanlon. Since we are newto your world, we would be honored if you would tell usexactly what to expect and how we shouldrespond."Zelnixcanlon's antennae fluttered like apair of stalks in the wind, but the Jarada bentits legs until its abdomen touched the tiledfloor. "This is my function, to instruct you inThat-Which-Is-Needful." And for the next hour theJarada did, describing in detail the ritualexchange of greetings and how the negotiations wouldproceed afterward.

The Jarada honor guard led them on an evenmore convoluted course to the Council Chambers thantheir original path to the Meditation Chamber hadbeen. First the corridors led upward and twistedinto the interior of the building, at one point passingthrough a gallery near the highest part of thestructure. The small round windows looked downon the dense foliage that crowned the trees in thecourtyard where they had beamed in.At least Crusher assumed it was the samecourtyard, although the perspective was so different fromabove that it could have been any of the five courtyardsthat their scans had told them were included within thecomplex. The combination of interconnected buildingsand enclosed courtyards turned the GovernanceComplex into a convoluted maze.From the upper gallery their path worked its waydownward, through corridors and galleries thatchanged from lighter to darker colors and then backto lighter colors. The smells also changed, from theheavy spicy odor they had first noticed, to thesweet, fruity nectar of an orchard litteredwith windfall peaches, to a mixture of all theprevious odors combined with other, less definablescents. Crusher, who was recording their journeywith her tricorder, was the first to realize thatthe odors shifted near each major intersection.She had noticed the scents much as she wouldanother woman's perfume, but it wasn't untilthe third or fourth time her tricorder registereda major cross-corridor that she recognizedthe significance of her discovery. The Jaradaused smells as markers for defining different areaswithin the building. Her tricorder gave her noclues to further explain the puzzle, but sheresolved to keep her eyes open for anything thatcorrelated with the variations in the odors. Instincttold her that the answer was important, but what itmeant, she was not sure.Crusher started to explain her theory to Troi,then changed her mind. Until they knew more, shemight violate some Jaradan taboo by discussingthe subject. It would be better to wait untilshe knew they could not be overheard. Deep inthought, she was surprised when the party reached themassive and ornately carved door that blockedthe entrance to the Jaradan Council Chambers.

Chapter Three

The door to the Audience Chamber was amassive black object built to a scale thatdwarfed everything else they had seen of Jaradanarchitecture. Abandon hope, all ye whoenter here, Picard thought, acknowledging the irony.No matter how many times or on how many worlds herecognized the pattern, it never failed to amazehim that so many governments for so many diversesocieties resorted to blatant displays ofpower when designing their state buildings. It was asif the rulers could not conceive of governing withoutintimidation, of authority without domination. Even insocieties where the rulers were chosen by the consent ofall members of the group, the oppressivearchitecture often persisted as a reminder that afew individuals exerted disproportionatecontrol over the destinies of everyone.As they approached the door, Picard got abetter look at the ornate carvings incised into everysquare millimeter of the surface. Some sectionswere engraved with symbols, writing perhaps, and toldthe captain very little. Other panels were pictorial--scenes of Jarada fighters in combat with otherJarada. The poses were highly formalizedand the style reminded Picard of a pleasant weekof shore leave many years earlier that he had spentexploring the ruins of al-Karnak in Egypt.The Jaradan carvings were similar to the stonereliefs that celebrated the triumphs of thepharaohs, and, once the thought occurred to him,Picard could not shake it.The Egyptian civilization had been verystructured, very regimented, very traditional--similar to the insectoid societies Troi hadoffered as possible analogs to the Jarada.Looking at the massive black door, Picardrealized that they all had overlooked another word thatdescribed many such cultures--militaristic.He shivered from an unpleasant premonition, notat all happy with the thoughts conjured up by the sceneson the door.At Picard's signal Keiko steppedforward with her tricorder and swept it across thecarvings, recording them for later analysis. Thisdoor would tell them more about the Jarada than thetotal of everything the Federation had previouslyknown. As if taking Keiko's action as theircue, two small copper-colored Jaradastepped to the center of the door and swung it open for theaway team.A broad aisle paved with brilliantlycolored geometric mosaics opened before them.Stationed along the walkway at designatedpoints was a ceremonial unit ofmahogany-colored Jarada, each wearing awide, heavily decorated sash across itsthorax. Flickering torches provided the mainillumination, giving the scene a timeless, barbaricatmosphere at odds with the technologicalsophistication displayed in other parts of the Jaradancomplex. The arching barrel vault of the room soaredoverhead, its upper reaches lost in flickeringshadows. The effect was deliberate, Picardthought, with the dim, uneven lighting calculatedto make the room seem cavernous and anypetitioner tiny and insignificant. It was anotherway of showing the governed their relative positionin the scheme of things, and even though Picardunderstood how the psychology worked, he hadto acknowledge that it was effective.The away team advanced up the aisle. At thefar end was a raised dais, its detailsobscured by the uneven light. The away teamreached the first pair of guardians, whocrossed both sets of arms over their thoraxes andlowered their torsos almost to the floor. A faintwoody scent, like sandalwood or cedar, swirledaround them. Picard paused, dipped his head in amarginal acknowledgment, and continued down the aisle.Behind him the others copied his actions, but inclinedtheir heads slightly farther to establish their statusrelative to the captain's--as they had beeninstructed to do by the Jaradan protocol expertZelnixcanlon.The next pair of Jarada crouched deeply butremained upright, with their clawed hands extendedoutward toward Picard. The captain knelt, hisarm sweeping forward and down in a chivalrousgesture reminiscent of the court of LouisXIV. Again, the rest of the away team mimickedhis bow, although a hiss of indrawn breath from Worftold Picard that, for the Klingon, this part of theJarada's mandatory ceremony went against hiswarrior's instincts.As the Federation team continued up the aisle,each pair of Jarada in turn gave them aritual greeting. Some postures were highlyformal or extremely submissive, whileothers were just short of an arrogant dismissal of theaway team's presence. After the fifth or sixthexchange, Picard felt the beginnings of a tensionheadache throbbing behind his eyes. He drew adeep, calming breath, pushing his anxiety--and theheadache--away. This was just another gambit in thewar of nerves the Jarada played with everyoneoutside their own hive. Picard's job wasto prove that he was as adept at the game as anyJarada.Two dozen sets of Jarada flanked thewalkway as he knew they would fromZelnixcanlon's briefing, and each setrequired a different reaction. In some caseshe was required to match the greeting with equalcourtesy, while at other times the responses wereasymmetrical, extreme formality paired againstabrupt rudeness. Zelnixcanlon had toldthem that this precessional was a reenactment ofhistorical events, but none of them, not evenTroi, had been able to make much sense of theJarada's explanation.The ship's translation algorithm wasconsistently missing a few critical concepts,and Troi was still unable to decipher the emotionalresponses of the Jarada they met.Until they corrected those deficiencies in theirknowledge, all Picard could do was to treat the ritual asanother complex test of protocol. If he couldremember all the responses in the properorder, the Federation would have completed yet anothertrial in their struggle to deal with the Jarada onequal terms.The farther they proceeded down the aisle between theranked Jarada, the warmer the room seemedto get. Sweat from the effort to keep everythingstraight beaded Picard's forehead and trickleddown his back.At times like this, confronting an almost unknown anddecidedly touchy race, he wondered why he hadaccepted this last promotion. The captain of aGalaxy-class starship was more often a diplomatand a politician than anything else. Picardhad been an explorer all his life, and he wouldhave been happy to finish his career as he started,scouting beyond the edges of known space. It was ajob he did superbly and he knew its valueto the Federation.His ego did not need the power and prestige thatcame with the captaincy of the Enterprise, but hehad found the challenge of commanding Starfleet'spremiere starship irresistible. The scope and thepotential of his current assignment were aweinspiring, and at times he still could not believe his goodfortune at being chosen as captain of theEnterprise. Even so, when he was forced to admitit, he confessed that diplomatic assignments werehis least favorite duty.However, Starfleet had not asked him if hewanted to negotiate with a demanding race like theJarada before they gave him the job. Remindinghimself that responsibilities always went hand in handwith glory, he projected more confidence into theritual greetings, hoping the Jarada would read hisself-assurance as an emblem of strength andcompetence.Finally they reached the last pair of guards, whoflanked the stairs leading up to the dais.Zelfreetrollan was seated on a broadblack marble bench draped with a hive-standard ofdeep crimson edged with gold. Looking up atthe Jaradan leader, Picard wondered if he hadgotten every greeting correct. For him, the walkdown the aisle had been almost as long as the spiritualjourney the ceremony represented for the Jarada.He imagined how a Jaradadiplomat from another hive would feel, waiting foran acknowledgment from the local potentate to tellhim that he had successfully proved he was anintelligent individual and a worthyrepresentative of his own hive. It had to benerve-racking to be a diplomat among theseexacting and temperamental beings.The task was difficult enough, Picard thought,although he knew he could have Transporter ChiefO'Brien beam him and the away team back to theship if things went too far awry. That, ofcourse, would not complete their mission, nor would itpromote better relations with the Jarada, but it wouldsave their necks. After seeing the martial scenescarved into the door to the Council Chambers,Picard wondered how often the Jarada executedone of their own for failing to remember every detail oftheir complex protocol.Zelfreetrollan stood and descended thesteps, his clawed hands extended to Picard. "Webid you welcome," he said in his multitonalvoice. Even though the words were in English,Picard's communicator buzzed as thetranslator function attempted to cope with whatit interpreted as multiple voices speaking atthe same time. Behind him Picard heard a gruntof displeasure from Worf and realized the worst of thefeedback must be in the lower frequencies, in therange where the Klingon was far more sensitive thanmost humans. Data was supposed to bemonitoring their communications to prevent suchdifficulties. Picard hoped the android wouldcatch the problem quickly and direct the computerto recognize this peculiarity of Jaradanspeech.At the bottom of the stairsZelfreetrollan folded his arms across histhorax and gave Picard the ritual crouch."Your Federation honors us with your presence. Mayour association be a long and profitable one for bothour hives."Picard bowed, a deep formal bow from the waist.He could not remember being required to be so formalfor so long since he had led the Starfleet contingentto the Federation Games held on YokohamaIV thirty years before. Yokohama had beensettled in the early years of the Federation by a sectof Japanese traditionalists, and they hadinsisted on conducting the games according to theexquisite etiquette ofsixteenth-century Japan.Straightening from his bow, Picard extended hisempty hands to Zelfreetrollan. "First AmongCouncil, your greeting honors us. We hopethis visit may be the beginning of a long and mutuallybeneficial relationship between your people and ours. TheFederation is always delighted to welcome newmembers into our community. The exchange of ideasand cultures makes all of us the richer.""This is an idea my people are finally comingto accept." Zelfreetrollan bobbed his head inwhat Picard took to be an approximation of anod. As he did so, the side facets of hiseyes shimmered in the flickering light.Picard bowed again and then gestured toward the restof the away team. "First Among Council, mayI present the other members of my party. CommanderWilliam Riker, a valued advisor.Counselor Deanna Troi, Chief MedicalOfficer Beverly Crusher, Ship's BotanistKeiko Ishikawa, and Lieutenant Worf, thecommander of our honor guard." As they wereintroduced, each person gaveZelfreetrollan a deep bow. Picard mighthave imagined it, but he thought he again heard Worfgrowl in protest, as though the Klingon did not liketaking his eyes off the Jarada for a single moment.Picard suppressed a grin. Worf was a goodsecurity officer, but he would never make adiplomat; the skills required were mutuallyexclusive."The Prime Council Chamber is this way,"Zelfreetrollan said. "Some of my principaladvisors will be joining us there." Turning away fromPicard, Zelfreetrollan led the way to adoor on the side wall, his claws clickingagainst the mosaic floor.Picard followed, still trying to figure out whetherthe negotiations were being conducted by Federationprotocol, Jaradan protocol, or someill-defined combination of both. He was startingto suspect the last and did not find the ideareassuring. Conducting such an importantmeeting according to rules being made up on the spotby beings known for their strict standards and their intoleranceof error put him at a severe disadvantage.It was almost as bad as playing Fizzbin without achronometer in the caverns of Marel Five, wherethe locals could tell the time by the smell of the air,and the day and season from the flow of water in theunderground springs and rivers.Two reddish-brown guards stepped out of theshadows. They moved to the center of the door,pressed embossed knobs hidden in the intricatecarvings, and stepped forward, pushing the doors open.As Zelfreetrollan passed, the guardscrouched deeply. The odor of cinnamon andcloves swirled around the away team as theypassed the two guards.In contrast to the rooms they had seen so far, thisone was almost cozy, its walls hung with abstracttapestries worked in a variety of blues andbluish-greens. The floor was tiled with brightlyglazed ceramics that reflected the patterns in thewall hangings. A large oval table of gleamingblack wood occupied the center of the room. Theguards pulled the doors closed behind them, thewooden panels hitting their frame with a solidthunk that reverberated like a stroke on a largedrum.Picard inhaled deeply, trying to identify thesmell in the room. For a moment he was puzzled,until he realized it was the near absence ofodors that had caught his attention. Here theoverpowering conglomeration of scents that had surroundedthem since they arrived on Bel-Minor was mutedto a bearable level.At the sound of the closing door, five Jaradaentered the room through openings hidden behind the wallhangings. Picard was reminded of medievalEurope, where friend and foe alike had hidden behindthe tapestries in the throne room to eavesdropon important meetings. The comparison made theJarada seem less alien, more human, butPicard had to shake a moment's uneasiness.Suspicion and distrust were not the human traitshe wanted to discover in the Jarada, and he wishedthe medieval analogy had not occurred to him.Zelfreetrollan nodded his head to each of thenew arrivals, the flat facets of his eyesshifting colors as his head moved. Turning, hegave Picard a formal nod as well."Honored Picard-Captain, may I presentthe Council of Elders for the Hive Zel?" Athis words, the five Jarada lined up behind him andeach made a deep, formal crouch to theEnterprise team.Zelfreetrollan raised his lefttrue-arm. A large chestnut-colored Jaradawearing a gold and silver sash that was almosthidden beneath badges and medallions stepped forward.The Jarada crouched again, bending its neck to touchits forehead with its true-hands. "This isZelk'helvtrobreen, head of our hiveguardians." Zelk'helvtrobreen rose andstepped back into the line with the other councillors.Zelfreetrollan introduced the other four.Zelmirtrozarn, the spiritual leader of Jaradansociety, was deep brown and of medium height.His sash contained more colors than anyone'sexcept Zelfreetrollan's.Zelbrektrovish, the head of scientificresearch, was the smallest Jarada in the room, butits strong yellow ochre color and bright purplesash were as distinctive as the commanding presence itprojected. Zelnyartroma'ar, the director ofmedical services, was a pale honey-gold andwore a dark, unadorned sash. She was the youngestmember of the council. Zelnyentrozhahk, whosetitle translated roughly as "minister ofeducation," moved with the stiffness of extreme age.Her exoskeleton was pale orange mottled withdarker splotches that looked strangely like agespots to Picard.With the introductions completed,Zelfreetrollan gestured toward the conferencetable. "Now we have disposed of the majorformalities and can begin working," he said. "Wehope you will not mind that we want to discuss matterswith you on terms of equality. However, the arrivalceremonies are needful, so that word will spreadamong the hive that you are indeed intelligentcreatures.""We understand," Picard replied, feeling moreconfused by the moment. That the Jarada would dispense withtheir elaborate protocol should be a singularlyhopeful sign for the negotiations. However, theidea made Picard extremely uncomfortable,especially when he remembered the history ofFederation-Jarada relations. He glanced atTroi, one eyebrow raised. She gave herhead a small shake, a movement so tiny he wouldhave missed it if he hadn't been waiting for it.So--whatever the Jarada were up to, Troi still couldnot read enough of their emotions to interpret theirbehavior. Zelfreetrollan could be luring theminto a trap, or he might be a reformer pushing throughsomething the majority of the Jarada did not want,or this might be normal Jaradan diplomacy.Picard had no way to tell, given theinformation he had available.Everyone took their seats, with Picard andZelfreetrollan facing each other along thelong axis of the table. The rest of the group sat inalternating human then Jarada order, with thechairs positioned so that each individual was alsofacing someone from the other group. As best Picardcould tell, the pairings had been done with an eyeon function, with Worf oppositeZelk'helvtrobreen, the head of the Jaradanguardians, and Crusher oppositeZelnyartroma'ar, the director of medicalservices.Despite his disavowal of protocol,Zelfreetrollan launched into a welcomingspeech praising his visitors and hoping for a newera of harmonious relations between the Jarada and theFederation. Unobtrusively, Picard timed thespeech, wondering if his opening remarks should belonger or shorter. Longer might be seen as aninsult, as though he were trying to upstage his host,while shorter could also be an affront, offeringless to the Jarada than they were giving to theFederation. It was a delicate point, and hedecided his best course was to come as closeto Zelfreetrollan's time as he could manage.Watching the Jarada's reactions as he finishedspeaking fifteen minutes later, Picarddecided he had chosen correctly. The sixJarada had listened intently, wagging their headsto the side when he touched on the diversity of theFederation and the opportunities for trade andcultural exchange. Picard concluded with anoffer to answer any questions the Jarada might have.To his surprise, Zelfreetrollan askedhim to explain how the Federation was governed. This ledto a lively discussion of the variety of worlds thatbelonged to the Federation. Then Worf, Keiko, andTroi gave long explanations of how theirhomeworlds differed from each other and from other Federationworlds. The Jarada seemed fascinated and, beforeanyone realized it, the afternoon was over.Zelfreetrollan ordered refreshmentsto finish the session--sweet nutcakes and fruitnectar served with a pitcher of water so that theEnterprise's away team could dilute thesyrup to a bearable sweetness. Worf eyed thewater suspiciously, since its presenceconfirmed his deduction that their conversation in theMeditation Chamber had been monitored.However, no one else seemed to notice, so theKlingon filed his doubts to examine later."Picard-Captain." Zelfreetrollandipped his head in an informal bow. "Yourhappiness to communicate and your generosity indescribing the wonders of your Federation honor mypeople greatly. We regret that we have delayed solong in experiencing this excellent exchange andwish to find ways to make amends for ourhesitance. It is our desire to return thehonor you have shown us by sharing the spirit of our hive withyour council, if you would consent to allow this. Our peoplewould be greatly honored to meet with your mostrespected advisors and to show them what our world andour people have to offer your great Federation.""It would be a privilege to meet your people,"Picard answered. "It is our greatest wishto learn more about your world and your society so we mayunderstand each other better.""Then my Councillors will be delighted ifyour advisors will grant them the pleasure of showingthem our city tomorrow while you and I completearrangements for the exchange of ambassadors.Our medical researchers invite the mostexcellent Crusher-Doctor to inspect theirfacilities and the val'khorret would be pleasedto meet a musician of Riker-Commander'stalent." Behind the First Among Council,Zelk'helvtrobreen bobbed its head to the sidein time with Zelfreetrollan's words."Keiko-Botanist is invited to join alearning-outing from the City Academy, so that shemay see the plants and trees of our world. And,of course, Worf-Guardian will want to attendan exhibition of our most excellentval'ghreshneth."As Zelfreetrollan began listing theactivities planned for each crew member,Picard felt a moment's dismay at beingmaneuvered into accepting the plan before he saw itsfull outline. Also, if the Jarada knew ofRiker's musical talents, their information about theEnterprise and its crew was far better than theEnterprise's information about the Jarada. Afrown flickered across Riker's face, his thoughtstraveling a course parallel to the captain's.Worf gave a low growl in the back of histhroat, like the moan of a rusty hinge. The Jaradawould not understand the Klingon's message, but Picardheard it loud and clear--don't splitup the away team.Unfortunately, the offer was so well timed, socarefully placed, that to refuse might undo allthe diplomatic progress they had made. Aftertalking about trust and cultural exchange allafternoon, they could not decline the invitations withoutrisking a serious diplomatic incident. "FirstAmong Council, your generosity overwhelms us.If you are certain your Councillors can spare thetime, my officers will be delighted to accept youroffer."Zelfreetrollan gave his head two sharpnods, his eyes flickering from greenish to yellowishwith the movement. "Then it is settled. We will showyou to a chamber where you can spend the night. When youreturn here in the morning, we will be honored to showyou our world. We ask only one thing of you, that you donot display your communications devices where theymight disturb our more traditional citizens. Wewill, instead, give you translation units of our ownmanufacture, so that all will know how you are ableto understand our people."

After a long formal dinner accompaniedby interminable speeches and entertainments, theEnterprise team was finally escorted to thequarters assigned to them for the duration of theirmission. The room was little different from the MeditationChamber where they had been taken when they firstarrived, and the furniture was identical. Threesleeping chambers opened off the room, all withhard, narrow bunks designed to accommodateJaradan anatomy, and the washroom contained acommunal shower.It was late, but they had one matter to settlebefore they could sleep. While most of the group foundplaces to sit, Worf prowled the common area oftheir guest suite, searching for hidden recordersor listening devices.Picard worked himself into a comfortable position on thelow sofa and gestured for the others to join him. Thethree women found seats, but Worf continuedto examine the room and Riker paced the floorto work off his tension. The captain had to struggleto keep from joining them.Riker spun around at the end of a lap andstopped opposite Picard. "Why? We knowalmost nothing about these people and yet you've agreedto split up the away team.""Fair enough." Picard leaned back,tilting his head upward to meet Riker's gaze.After a moment, when Picard gave him nothingto argue against, some of the tension left Riker'sposture. The captain nodded. "I agree with you,W. It's a risk to separate the away team, andyou are quite correct to point that out. However, thepurpose of any diplomatic mission isto establish trust and understanding between two races thatknow nothing of each other.""Put up or shut up?" Riker frowned,trying the idea on for size. "I still think you weremaneuvered into accepting the offer, and I want to knowwhy.""Counselor?"Troi's face went blank with concentration asshe reviewed her impressions of the day's events.Finally, she shrugged. "I sense no hostility,not even as much as might be expected from areclusive race such as the Jarada. There issomething, some disturbance that I cannot identify, butnothing that seems to relate directly to theinvitations that First Among CouncilZelfreetrollan issued to us."Crusher ran a hand through her coppery hair."I for one am very interested to see their medicalfacilities. The equipment and the sophistication oftheir research will tell us a great deal about theJarada and their society." She paused for adeep breath, shrugging apologetically. "Besides,I feel so useless in the negotiations. I'dprefer doing something where I could make acontribution to the mission.""Ms. Ishikawa?" Picard glanced towardKeiko. "I assume you share Dr. Crusher'ssentiments."Keiko answered with a brief, controlled nod."I feel I can best contribute to the success ofour mission by doing the job I was trained for. AndI feel that the Federation will lose face with theJarada if we do not accept their invitations."Riker spun away, crossed the room in fourquick strides, and returned, again stopping in frontof the captain. "That still leaves my original question--why?"Picard nodded. "If we could answer that question,we wouldn't need to be here. I'm opento suggestions, but at the moment I see no wayto gain the information we need without separating the awayteam. We asked the Jarada to trust us and theFederation, and they responded with aninvitation that forces us to do just that. As Ms.Ishikawa said, if we don't accept, theFederation loses "face." That is the basicissue we must consider."After a moment Riker nodded. "However you lookat it, it's another test, and we don't even knowwhat they're testing this time. Or what the rulesare. I don't see a way to avoid going alongwith it, but I don't have to like it."One by one the members of the away team nodded.Worf was last, and his deep scowl betrayed howmuch he disliked the captain's decision. "That'sit, then," Picard said as his security chiefstalked away to resume searching for listeningdevices. "We'll use standard precautionarymeasures, with Mr. Data monitoring ourcommunicators at all times."Finally Riker sat, trying to retain hisdignity while searching for a comfortable spot on thesofa. "Captain, since Ms. Ishikawa will beoutside the settlement areas, I recommend thatan additional crewman accompany her.""I can take care of myself. I don't needextra protection."Riker flicked his gaze toward Keiko, thenreturned his attention to the captain. "As I wasabout to say, Ms. Ishikawa will have a greateropportunity to acquire information than anyoneelse, except perhaps Dr. Crusher. Anotherperson would be able to record more data for lateranalysis.""Make it so, Number One." Picardlooked at his officers, pausing long enough to besure no one had any more questions. "In that case,this meeting's adjourned. I recommend that weall turn in, because tomorrow will be a long day." Althoughhe had deliberately framed the words as asuggestion, the captain knew what would happen.Within minutes everyone had retired to their bunks,leaving Picard to mull over the day's events.Despite his confident words about trusting theJarada, he could not shake his uneasiness about themission.Something about the Jarada disturbed him deeply,but he could not bring the discordant ideas into focus.Picard knew the insectlike alienness of theJarada would trouble some people, but he didn't think thatwas what bothered him. As a boy he was fascinatedby the mantises and ladybugs he found whileplaying in the family's vineyard, and asan adult he had learned to value intelligentlife in whatever form it appeared. Still, asubliminal warning tickled at his brain anddemanded acknowledgment. What had he missed?What was his subconscious mind trying to tellhim? He played with the idea, turning it over andover in hope of finding his answers, untilsleep at last claimed him.

Chapter Four

The Audience Chamber was deserted, lit onlyby narrow shafts of light from the clerestory windowshigh overhead. Riker, following their guide throughthe cavernous room, tried to remember if he hadseen those windows yesterday. They must have beenscreened off, he decided finally. TheBeltaxiyan star was slightly bluer than Soland, even though the planets orbited at a greaterdistance from their sun than Earth did, the lightlevel was not appreciably less. Today the raysof white light robbed the Chamber of its aura ofancient and barbaric splendor.Riker shifted his trombone case to his otherhand, reassured by the familiar weight but wonderingif he should have brought it. Zelfreetrollan'scomments about his musical abilities had beenflattering, but Riker knew they were unjustified.He loved music and played well--for anamateur--but he simply did not practiceenough. Certain notes, certain passages,required more repetition than he had time to givethem, and Riker knew they would always remain beyond hisskill.They reached the Prime Council Chamber,already occupied by Zelfreetrollan and his chiefCouncillors, and Riker's thoughts were interruptedby the flurry of greetings and the brief confusion ofhanding out the Jaradan translators. It tookRiker a moment to figure out the unfamiliarcatch on the strap. Zelmirtrozarn steppedto Riker's side, clicking his claws together inapproval when he saw the trombone case. "Itis good that you brought your instrument,Riker-Commander. The leaders of theval'khorret are most desirous to learn whatmanner of music so alien a creature cancreate.""The leaders?" Riker asked as he fellinto step with the Jarada, shortening his strideto accommodate the insectoid's pace.Zelmirtrozarn was of medium size for aJarada, which meant his head was level with Riker'schest. In spite of the difference in height, hecovered ground quickly and Riker got the feeling thatthe Jarada had reduced his speed to accommodatethe human's two-legged locomotion. "I thought youwere in charge of this val'khorret, CouncillorZelmirtrozarn."The Jarada clacked his claws in a boisterousrhythm which, after a moment, Riker realizedindicated amusement. "In service to my hive,I am "in charge" of many aspects of oursociety, Riker-Commander, but only a foolwould claim more than titular control of theval'khorret unless his spirit ran solely within therhythms of their days."They turned a corner and started down a longramp that led underground, if Riker had guessedtheir position correctly. The air was cool anddamp, with an earthy scent that reminded him ofhelping his grandfather work in the garden when he was veryyoung. Gramps had been a wizard at growingthings, winning first place at the Alaska statefair for the best and the largest vegetables two out ofevery three years he had competed. It had taken theyoung Riker a long time to realize that the abilityto grow eighty-pound cabbages was a gift, and notone he had inherited from his grandfather along with the genesfor his height and his changeable gray-blue eyes.With a start Riker pulled himself back to thepresent. "If you are not in charge of theval'khorret, CouncillorZelmirtrozarn, then perhaps I misunderstood FirstAmong Council Zelfreetrollan'sexplanation yesterday. Could I ask you again whatyour function in the government is?"Again Zelmirtrozarn clacked his claws togetherin the Jaradan equivalent of laughter. "To askthat question suggests that you do not understand our namingrules, Riker-Commander. Does yourtranslating computer not tell you how our names areconstructed?"Riker reached for his communicator, clippedinside his sleeve to keep it out of sight, butstopped when he realized the Jaradan unitstrapped around his wrist had done no better.Last night Data had said nothing about Jaradannames, although he had supplied them with speculationson most of the information they had gleaned duringthe day's activities. On a hunch Rikerdecided that admitting imperfect knowledge might be agood strategic move. So far the Federation's bestinformation suggested that the Jarada were about a centurybehind the technological mainstream of the Federation.That hundred years had produced dramaticchanges for many Federation worlds, improving thequality and style of life almost immeasurably.To the Jarada, the Enterprise's technologymust seem almost magical, a wondrous andinfallible power that they could comprehend dimly and thatthey could hope to command only in the far distantfuture.A little imperfection, Riker reasoned, mightlessen the perceived disparity. "No, Councillor.Our computer hasn't given us any translationsfor your names. So far it's had enough trouble coping with thetonality of your language, without working on suchfiner points as naming rules. I'dappreciate an explanation, if you don'tmind."They approached a cross-corridor, the firstRiker had seen since they reached the bottom of theramp. From the left came loud noises--theclashing of metal on metal and a loud buzzing, likethe sound of the antique chain saw his grandfather's bestfriend had used to carve totem poles for theTalkeetna Heritage Park. Wondering whatwas happening, Riker turned toward the noise.Zelmirtrozarn tapped his arm with a clawedtrue-hand and pointed in the opposite direction."I had forgotten. The hive guardians areholding a vrrek'khat drill in this sector.We had best move quickly, or we shall getcaught in their maneuvers.""Vrrek'khat?" Riker stumbled over theword, puzzled. His translator gave him noclue about its meaning. From behind them Riker heard theclatter of a group of Jarada running inunison. When he paused to see what washappening, Zelmirtrozarn grabbed his wrist andjerked him into the side passageway. A dozenlarge chestnut-colored Jarada charged past themand headed toward the noise without missing a stride.The odor of cinnamon washed over Riker, almostoverpowering him with its intensity."Vrrek'khat are vicious predatorsnative to our homeworld. They attack in swarms,often in the season when the larvae emerge from theeggs. If they breach the Hive'sdefenses, they will destroy both the queen and thelarvae in their chambers. When the guardians arefighting vrrek'khat, they will attack anything thatis not-Hive."Something in Zelmirtrozarn's tone toldRiker that the Jarada was lying. Why or about whathe was not sure, but he decided to test theinsectoid. "I would be very interested to watch thedrill, Councillor Zelmirtrozarn. Would thatbe possible?"The large central facets of the Jarada'seyes shimmered from pale orangeto greenish-yellow to lemon yellow. Watching thechanging interference colors, Riker realized thatZelmirtrozarn was scanning the intersection,checking all four corridors without moving hishead. The shifting colors meant the lenses in thecentral elements of his compound eyes could changetheir orientation, much like the focusing element in aplatform scanner. Thinking that fact might beuseful, Riker filed the observation along witheverything else he'd learned about the Jarada.The sounds from the opposite hallway grewlouder, and Zelmirtrozarn started away from them,gesturing for Riker to hurry. "If you wish, wecan arrange for you to watch a drill at a latertime, Riker-Commander. However, thesepassageways have no observation galleries and itis unsafe for you to remain unless you have been markedas a member of the Hive. I apologize for theoversight, but it was not brought to our attention that youwould wish to observe this aspect of our society.""Marked?" Riker shook his head, tryingto clear it of the reek of cinnamon. How did theJarada stand being bombarded by such overpoweringsmells? He could not remember when he had beenassaulted by so many concentrated odors."Of course, Riker-Commander. Eachindividual emits a characteristic marker scentdetermined by one's genetics and role in oursociety. That way, one always knows the status andrelationships of each person one encounters. Underunusual circumstances one may wish to subdueone's scent, but this can create disorientation in thestrangers one meets."They reached a split in the corridor, andZelmirtrozarn chose the downward fork. Rikersuppressed a moment's uneasiness, envisioning anetwork of tunnels and dungeons beneath theGovernance Complex which could swallow himwithout a trace. To take his mind off that thought, heasked, "How does this relate to what you startedto tell me about naming rules?"Zelmirtrozarn clacked his jaws togethersharply. "You are very perceptive,Riker-Commander. You have almost the intelligence of ahive-brother. With proper training, perhaps your peoplemay be worthy to be adopted into our hive."How am I supposed to answer that? Rikerwondered. He thought the Jarada intended his remarkas a compliment, but his wording was such that Riker could notguess an appropriate response.Fortunately for him, Zelmirtrozarn continuedtalking as though he did not notice Riker'sdilemma."Our language constructs personal names sothat the listener will know the place of each individualin our society. Doesn't your Federation do thesame for its citizens?"With an effort Riker focused his attention onthe immediate subject. "There is no one set ofrules in use throughout the Federation. Each world hasits own customs and traditions."Zelmirtrozarn bobbed his head to the side."That is odd. It must be very difficult not to knowan individual's position in his hive. I cannotconceive of how your people could function with suchuncertainty."The corridor bent to the left and turnedsharply downward. Moisture beaded on the wallsand pooled in the low spots on the uneven floor.Riker shifted his trombone case to his other handso he could wipe the cold sweat from his palm. Hetold himself that he had no cause for alarm, but thesigns of disuse were so obvious that it was difficultto convince himself.He wondered if anyone knew where he andZelmirtrozarn were, and he had to struggleto keep from calling Data on the Enterprise justto hear a familiar voice. That thought brought himback to the Jarada's question. "When you deal with beingsfrom other worlds and other cultures, you generally mustask what their titles and functions are. We'veconcentrated on developing rules for dealing with theuncertainties, because there is no way to avoid themwhen you step outside your own culture.""This is a concept with an intensely exoticaroma. It will require much contemplation before I canencompass it." The Jarada was silent while thetunnel twisted deeper underground. Finallythey passed through a massive undecorated doorand into a cylindrical shaft that disappearedinto darkness both above and below them. Dim greenishglowstrips dotted the walls at apparentlyrandom intervals. Zelmirtrozarn startedto climb upward."When you decompose the elements of a Jaradanname, the words will tell you the individual's placein our society. The first syllable is always the nameof the Hive, for without the association and support ofour hive-mates, we are nothing. Everyone on thisplanet belongs to Hive Zel, because this is arecent settlement. When our population becomestoo large, so that the fabric of hive life isseverely distorted, the Hive will divide and newunits will coalesce from the segments of the old.""How often does this happen?" For the hivesto subdivide when they became too big was asimple thing, and logical, too, but none of theirinformation on the Jarada had suggested such an eventmight occur."It is a variable thing depending on theresources available to the hive and on the qualityof offspring produced. In a new world where we haveabundant resources, we can expect the fissionto occur in perhaps twenty of your years. On theolder worlds the queens produce fewer eggs and thehives grow more slowly. However, you asked about ournaming rules, and I should not allow myself to becomedistracted."Riker shrugged, then realized the Jarada mightnot understand what the gesture meant. "I'm interestedin learning everything I can about your hive. Pleasecontinue, Councillor.""You are most gracious, Riker-Commander.My caste-mates often claim that my calling isfor an instructional function rather than anadministrative one. At times I fear myexplanations do follow as convoluted a path as thisdiversion we were forced to take."They had reached a level space on the rampand Zelmirtrozarn paused, running his clawsover the outer wall. Riker noticed the faintoutline of a door. A small click sounded,loud in the enclosed shaft, and a moment later acontrol panel lit beside the door.Zelmirtrozarn fitted his claws into the properindentations and tapped out a coded pattern. With agrinding protest the panel retreated into the wall.They stepped through, onto the landing of awell-lit shaft similar to the one they were leaving.After closing the door, Zelmirtrozarn startedupward again. "We rarely use the oldpassages anymore, because they collect too muchmoisture in the damp season. She who designedthem for us was from a different hive, and one hasto suspect the motives of those who sent her to workfor us."Riker started to ask if interhive rivalrieswere common, but remembered the battle scenes carvedinto the Audience Chamber door. Instead, hereturned to the earlier topic. "You were explainingabout Jaradan naming rules."Zelmirtrozarn clacked his claws inamusement. "Yes, I do seem to have trouble stayingon the subject. As I was saying, the firstsyllable of a name indicates our hive affiliation.The second syllable is the name of the caste to which theindividual belongs. One's caste is veryimportant, since it is determined by one'sgenetic inheritance and in turn governs how oneserves one's hive. My caste, the Mir, arethe keepers of our hive's traditions,rituals, and values. The Nyen raise andtrain the young, and the Free are the administratorsand rulers."They reached another level stretch of the rampand the Jarada faced toward the wall, sliding hisclaws across the surface until they activatedthe control panel. The invisible controls were aformidable security precaution, and Riker shiveredat the thought of what could force a society to sothoroughly hide the locks to their doors. With aneffort he shoved the thought away and searched for aless martial topic. "You said that everyone'scaste was genetically determined. Do you mean--you're born into your position and can't change it?""Of course." As the door opened for them,Zelmirtrozarn clacked his claws together inamusement. "You would have to get a Brek--ascientist--to explain the mechanisms to you, but Iinfer that our genetics have a much greater influence onour abilities than among your people. Of course"--he curled his feeding-arms and true-arms upwardto his shoulders, which Riker now recognized as theJaradan equivalent of a shrug--"we have alarger genome to work with. Our genetic inheritanceis a tremendous advantage in building a stableand efficient society.""I see." They passed through asecond door and into a wide corridor.Sunlight poured through a row of skylightsoverhead. The walls were a pale golden colorand the abstract mosaic on the floor was done invarious earth tones. Riker blinked, tryingto adjust to the brilliance after the subduedartificial light in the tunnels. A shortdistance away, from behind a closed door, he heardwhat sounded like someone torturing a small cougar."You do not believe me, I think."Zelmirtrozarn clacked softly. "Later wewill show you that we are right. Now, however, I mustfinish one lecture before I begin the next. Thethird syllable in a name indicates one'sfunction--leader, worker, teacher. As you mayguess, individuals may wear distinctfunctions at different times in their lives, and theirnaming will change to reflect this. Finally, the lastsyllable is an individual name, which can be usedby itself when one is not fulfilling a formal role.It is such a logical system that I cannotbelieve your society can operate without it."Riker drew a deep breath, wondering why hehad wanted any part of this diplomatic mission.Is it too late to convince the captain to leaveme in charge of the Enterprise? There were astaggering number of wrong responsesto Zelmirtrozarn's last statement. If theJarada had been deliberately setting him upto commit a diplomatic faux pas, if he hadbeen trying to create the justification for aninterstellar incident, he could scarcely have laida better trap. Riker shook himself, tryingto dismiss that thought. After a moment he answered inwhat he hoped was a neutral tone. "Oursystem isn't quite so formalized, but it functions ina similar manner." The sounds of the dying catrose to a crescendo and then were lost in the hollowpounding of an army of what sounded like bongo drums.Riker shivered with the awful premonition that the soundswere being produced by the val'khorret, themusicians he was supposed to be visiting.They stopped outside the room where the noiseswere being made, and Zelmirtrozarn reached foranother of the hidden control pads. "I hope you willexplain your naming rules to me after theval'khorret makes their presentation for you. Iwould be fascinated to learn more about your people,"Zelmirtrozarn said. He entered the combination into thepanel and the door slid aside.The room was bright and airy, with wide, unbarredwindows filling the outer wall. They were on theupper story of the tallest building in the city, andRiker was immediately drawn to the view. Hecrossed to the window, trying to orient himself. Abroad river meandered across the foreground, and themisshapen wheel of the Governance Complexsprawled across the opposite bank. Beyond, partlyobscured by the thick foliage of various trees,lay the bulbous earth-toned structures that housedthe city's population. In the far distance the serratededge of a mountain range shadowed the horizon.Behind him Riker heard the subdued clacking of adozen sets of claws. "We thought you would beimpressed with the sight of our city,"Zelmirtrozarn said. "We're gratified thatour judgment was correct.""Very impressive." Riker turned away fromthe window. The city's major structures were onhis side of the river, he remembered, and hedecided to ask to see the corresponding view afterthe musical session was over. "But forgive me forignoring you.""Not at all." Zelmirtrozarn dismissedRiker's concern with a wave of his true-hand. Thatgesture, at least, was common to both humans andJarada. "Anyone who does not respond to thefirst time they meet this view has no musicinside his cephalon. Consider it an initiation,and welcome to the inner ranks of theval'khorret."Riker studied his surroundings more closely,noticing that the room was large enough to hold a smallorchestra. Even spread out, the dozen Jaradafacing him seemed lost in the space. Before he couldpursue that thought, Zelmirtrozarn beganintroducing the musicians and letting eachdemonstrate his instrument for Riker.All the musicians had mottled carapacesand moved with the stiffness of extreme age. Also incontrast to most of the Jarada he had met, theirscents were subdued, faint enough that he was notoverwhelmed by a surfeit of aromas. From their namesRiker was able to identify individuals from atleast eight separate castes and he noticedwide differences in size and color. Geneticsagain? he wondered, making himself a note to asklater."And please, call us by our personal names,"said the leader of the group, Riis. She wasa diminutive female with a primrose-splotchedcarapace. "When the music starts, we are allequals.""That is an excellent idea."Zelmirtrozarn extended his arms in apology."I will take a lesson from my esteemedcolleague Riker-Commander. From now on you mustcall me Zarn."The instruments were a surprise, although if hehad thought about it, Riker would have realized that theirrigid mandibles prevented the Jarada from playingwind instruments. Instead, they had a variety ofstring and percussion instruments--a plucked stringinstrument similar to a harpsichord, varioussizes of drums, bells, xylophone-and-glockenspiellike arrays of tuned woodenor metal bars, a harp that required six handsto play, a tabletop instrument that resembled across between a guitar and a violin. A largeorganlike instrument that needed two Jaradato operate it occupied the back wall of the room.Riis demonstrated the organ briefly butexplained that her usual partner had been calledaway suddenly. She pulled the cover over thekeyboard and sat at the harpsichord. "Now,Riker-Commander, would you honor us with a performanceof your instrument?""Of course." He lifted the trombone caseonto a table. "But if we are all equals, youmust call me by my personal name, W.""It will be our privilege," Riis answeredwith great dignity. She inclined her head in anabbreviated bow, and Riker noticed again howstiff her movements were, reinforcing his conclusion thatthe Jarada in the val'khorret were quite old.The trombone was a novelty, its basicprinciples unknown to the Jarada. He hadto demonstrate how the instrument worked--how he formeda