The Sky's The Limit Part 11

He reached beneath his seat and brought out a visored cap, in the same black-and-gold shades as his Starfleet uniform. A mild jolt rocked the shuttle as its landing gear touched down on the roof of the Cataria. He hastily clamped the cap onto his head.

Ro gave him a quizzical look. "That's not exactly regulation."

"M-my head was cold," he said unconvincingly. "It's a well-known scientific fact that human beings lose thirty-five percent of their body heat from their heads."

Ro shrugged. "If you say so."

The silvery Bajoran earring dangling from her left ear reminded Barclay that Ro wasn't much of a stickler for the rules either. It occurred to him that they were both sort of misfits aboard the Enterprise. He wasn't sure she'd appreciate that observation, however, so he kept it to himself.

"Powering down," she reported.

Ro killed the shuttle's engines. An access panel in the floor connected with one of Cataria's airlocks. There was no way to put off boarding the yacht any longer. Barclay felt like a condemned man going to face a firing squad.

Let's get this over with, he thought as he reluctantly rose from his seat. If nothing else, he figured they could count on a warm welcome from Amba.s.sador Troi.

"You? You're the best Starfleet can send me?"

Lwaxana Troi, daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and roving amba.s.sador extraordinary and plenipotentiary, glared scornfully at her two visitors. A low-cut burgundy gown, woven from the finest Vulcan damask, clothed her imposing figure. Gold-pressed latinum glittered upon her ears, hands, and throat. Curly auburn hair piled atop her head like an ominous storm cloud. She had the indignant expression and body language of someone who had been expecting Thalian chocolate mousse only to be served a plateful of wriggling gagh instead. "Where are Captain Picard and my daughter?"

"I'm afraid that the captain and Counselor Troi are busy with other matters," Barclay said vaguely. For security reasons, he could not divulge that the Enterprise and the rest of its crew were currently engaged in a top secret test of the new soliton wave technology. Barclay fervently wished that he was taking part in that test as well, and not just because the soliton wave experiment, if successful, promised to revolutionize interstellar travel. "They send their apologies."

" 'Other matters'?" His explanation failed to mollify the miffed amba.s.sador. "I can't possibly imagine what could be more important than the vital talks to be conducted aboard this very ship, but I suppose I'll just have to make do with whatever feeble a.s.sistance Jean-Luc deigns to bestow upon me." She eyed Barclay with obvious disdain. "And where are your manners, Lieutenant? Don't you know that you should doff your hat in the presence of a lady? Let alone a daughter of the Fifth House."

Barclay's heart sank. "With your p-permission, I'd rather keep it on." Despite the yacht's cozy environmental settings, which were actually several degrees warmer than the Enterprise's, a chill ran down his spine. "Humanoids lose thirty-five percent of their body hea-"

Lwaxana couldn't care less. "Take off that ridiculous cap at once."

Barclay hesitated, frozen like plasma caught in a stasis beam. His eyes darted from side to side as he desperately looked for some way out of this situation. But there was no escape. He was trapped.

This is just what I was afraid of!

He fought to keep his hands from shaking as he reached up and removed the cap from his scalp. His mousy brown hair, mussed from its recent captivity, was in complete disarray. He nervously attempted to slick it back into place, while trying unsuccessfully to avoid the amba.s.sador's eyes. Her large black orbs, so very like Counselor Troi's, seemed to bore into his skull. He tried, and failed, to clear his mind of any incriminating thoughts. How do you not think about something?

"Telepaths?" she blurted, immediately picking up on the source of his discomfort. "You're afraid of telepaths?"

Barclay felt exposed, in more ways than one. Now everyone would know how much mind readers spooked him. Especially powerful and indiscreet ones like Lwaxana Troi. She can see right through me. Mortified, he fingered the lining of his cap. Specialized circuitry, which Barclay had cobbled together from pieces of a discarded neurocortical monitor, generated the psychic equivalent of white noise. In theory, the jury-rigged cap could protect his thoughts from prying minds. But only if he was actually wearing it.

"A little," he admitted.

Lwaxana acted as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing-and sensing. "Telephobia? In this day and age?" Her hand went to her chest as she struck a horrified pose. "I am shocked, shocked to encounter such a barbaric att.i.tude-and in the mind of a Starfleet officer, no less." She peered down her nose at Barclay. "And I can't say I approve of your fantasies concerning my daughter, either. 'The G.o.ddess of Empathy,' indeed!"

Barclay's face turned a bright shade of red. Having his atoms ripped apart by a transporter beam suddenly seemed preferable to having Deanna's mother rifle through his brain. Why couldn't the amba.s.sador just be an empath like her daughter? Dealing with Counselor Troi was one thing; she could sense only his emotions, not what he was thinking. Besides, he knew that Deanna would never pa.s.s judgment on him. Her mother was another story altogether.

"Well, maybe there would be less telephobia in the galaxy," Ro challenged Lwaxana, speaking up for the first time, "if certain telepaths had more respect for other people's privacy."

Lwaxana's jaw dropped. Taken aback by Ro's blunt rejoinder, the amba.s.sador was rendered momentarily speechless. Barclay was caught by surprise as well. He hadn't expected Ro to come to his defense. I didn't even think she liked me.

Unable to refute Ro's argument, Lwaxana bl.u.s.tered instead. "I'm not sure I approve of your tone, Ensign." She treated the younger woman to her most withering look, but Ro neither budged nor flinched. She held her ground until Lwaxana finally threw up her arms in defeat. "Oh, go ahead and wear your absurd headgear if it makes you feel more comfortable," she snapped at Barclay. "Needless to say, I fully intend to speak my mind to Jean-Luc about both of you once the present crisis is resolved."

"Then perhaps we should get down to business," Ro suggested.

Barclay agreed one hundred percent. He relaxed a little as he gratefully fitted the cap back onto his head. The built-in psychic baffler generated a mild buzz at the back of his mind, like a tune you can't get out of your head, but the odd sensation wasn't enough to keep him from reviewing the details of their mission: The Tadigeans were a reclusive species who lived in a remote corner of the Alpha Quadrant, far from the beaten path. Tadigea had never formally joined the Federation, but, in recent years, had cautiously begun to do business with other planets in the quadrant. Although seldom seen, the Tadigeans were reputed to be mildly telepathic, which gave Betazed a definite edge when it came to forming a mutually advantageous relationship with the other planet. One of the most gifted telepaths Betazed had ever produced, Lwaxana no doubt hoped to find common ground with the Tadigean trade representatives.

Just what I need, Barclay moaned silently. More telepaths.

The amba.s.sador's diplomatic efforts had been complicated by the fact that the xenophobic Tadigeans hated leaving their own planet almost as much as they hated allowing aliens onto their native soil. The newly installed holodeck on the Cataria was intended to simulate the Tadigeans' natural environment, to make them as comfortable as possible during the negotiations. The yacht itself was positioned at a neutral spot in deep s.p.a.ce, equidistant from both Betazed and Tadigea. The location also had the advantage of being safely remote, so that the delicate negotiations could be conducted in relative secrecy.

"Unfortunately," Lwaxana lamented, "this wretched contraption still isn't working properly." She gestured impatiently at the king-sized holodeck surrounding them. Glowing yellow gridlines divided the stark black walls of the inactive holochamber, which now took up the better part of the Cataria. "It's been behaving erratically...and the Tadigean delegates are arriving in a matter of days."

A Betazoid aide, who had been lurking in Lwaxana's shadow all this time, stepped forward. "I'm sure our own technicians would have figured out the problem in plenty of time," he insisted. He glared resentfully at Barclay and Ro. "There was no need to call in Starfleet."

"That's what you told me a week ago," Lwaxana chided the man. "You'll forgive me if I didn't want to risk the success of these talks on your flimsy promises." She gestured unenthusiastically at the aide, not even bothering to look in his direction. "Permit me to introduce Flev Ubaan, my temporary attache." She put extra stress on the word temporary. "He's been responsible for managing, if that's quite the right term, the particulars of this venture."

"If you'd just permitted me a larger staff," Ubaan protested. He was a portly man, at least a head shorter than Barclay, wearing a conservative gray suit. An elaborately waxed mustache compensated for his receding hairline. He held out a blinking datapadd. "It was all in my original prospectus." You didn't have to be a telepath to realize that he saw Lwaxana's appeal to Starfleet as a personal rebuke. Barclay hoped that the attache's bruised ego wouldn't complicate matters. "I needed a full holodeck installation and support team."

"We've already been over this," Lwaxana said impatiently. "These negotiations are politically sensitive, especially on Tadigea. The fewer people who know about them, the better." A heavy sigh hinted at the dreadful hardships she had endured in the line of duty. "Why, I'm even having to get by without the services of my precious Mister Homm, who is recovering from a bout of Carellian laryngitis." Barclay recalled the amba.s.sador's looming attendant from her past visits to the Enterprise. "Poor dear. He scarcely has any voice left at all."

How could you tell? Barclay wondered. "I'm, um, very familiar with holotechnology," he volunteered. "I'll do my b-best to debug this chamber in time for your meeting."

Lwaxana's eyes flashed like a phaser set on kill. "You had better."

The Arabian desert stretched endlessly before them. Crescent-shaped dunes of shifting sand rolled on for kilometers beneath the pitiless sun. Heat waves shimmered above the wind-scoured bones of a lost bedouin. Craggy rock formations jutted from the desert floor. On the horizon, plodding camels carried a merchant caravan toward a far-off oasis, or was the splash of greenery merely a mirage? Dust devils danced in the breeze, while a scorching wind pelted Barclay's face with grit. A camel brayed in the distance.

" 'The desert is an ocean in which no oar is dipped,' " Barclay whispered softly to himself. The intense heat, which had to be at least fifty degrees Celsius, instantly dried up his sinuses. The visor on his cap helped shield his eyes from the glare. He could readily imagine joining the caravan for a trek across the boundless sands. Exotic Middle Eastern bazaars called out to him.

"Come again?" Ro asked.

Her puzzled remark brought him back to reality. "Er, nothing." He scanned the arid landscape with his tricorder. "The simulation appears to be functioning," he reported. "I'm not detecting any unusual fluctuations in the polarized interference patterns."

"We already checked for that," Ubaan said sullenly. The truculent attache was constantly looking over Barclay's shoulder and second-guessing him, which did nothing to ease Barclay's mind. "And where did this oppressively hot simulation come from, anyway? This isn't the Tadigean program."

"This is one of my personal favorites from the Enterprise," Barclay explained. "I wanted to determine if the problem was with the holodeck or the Tadigean simulation itself, so I'm running a program that I know has no glitches." He consulted the readout on his tricorder. "Just to t-test the hardware, you know?"

Ubaan rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a waste of time to me."

Barclay could practically feel the other man breathing down his neck. Hoping to put a little distance between himself and Ubaan, he strode across the desert toward the horizon-only to b.u.mp face-first into an invisible barrier. "Ouch!" He stumbled backward, clutching his nose. Caught by surprise, it took him a moment to realize that he had collided with one of the holodeck's actual walls.

That's not supposed to happen, he thought. In theory, the holodeck should have employed a force field treadmill, and constantly scrolling scenery, to create the illusion of unlimited s.p.a.ce. Barclay knew that this particular program was capable of simulating vast distances; he had once ridden a camel all the way to Aqaba from this site. Looks like the problem's with the holodeck itself.

"Are you all right, Lieutenant?" Ro inquired from atop a nearby sand dune. Not an engineer herself, she was along to pilot the shuttle and provide an extra pair of hands as needed. Barclay would have preferred one of his colleagues from engineering, but Geordi had needed the rest of his staff for the soliton wave test. Barclay couldn't help feeling somewhat expendable. Me and Ro both, I guess.

He checked to make sure his nose wasn't broken. "I think so, but it looks like we've got a lot of work ahead of us." He decided to run a diagnostic on the chamber's omnidirectional holo diodes next. "Computer, end program."

Nothing happened. The harsh desert sun continued to beat down upon the three humanoids. Ubaan snickered. "Now you see what we've been dealing with for the last few weeks."

Barclay got the distinct impression that Ubaan would like nothing better than for the Starfleet engineer to fail, Lwaxana's negotiations be d.a.m.ned. Knowing that the petulant attache was rooting against him didn't help Barclay's confidence any. Sweat soaked through the collar of his uniform. "We're here only at the amba.s.sador's request," he pointed out for the umpteenth time. "It's nothing p-personal."

"Tell that to your captain after you've disappointed Amba.s.sador Troi," Ubaan said. "The Tadigeans will be here in two days. Time is running out."

Between the ticking clock and the attache's hostile att.i.tude, Barclay was definitely feeling the pressure. His gaze drifted to the colorful caravan up ahead. Only a few years ago, he would have sought escape from the stress by immersing himself in some captivating holodeck scenario, but, with Counselor Troi's help, he had managed to get his holodiction under control. The temptation was always there, however, and at times like this it could be hard to resist.

The program's already running, he thought. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Perhaps there was a way to send Ro and Ubaan on some meaningless errand, so that he could have the holodeck to himself for a while? A thrilling camel race across the burning sands was just what he needed right now. Or perhaps a stealthy visit to the harem of some fabulously wealthy Arab sheikh...

No, he told himself firmly. He had made too much progress over the last few years to backslide now. The captain and Geordi trusted me with this mission. I'm not going to let them down.

"Computer, end program," he tried again. When the holodeck failed to respond once more, he gave up on voice commands and used his tricorder to locate the manual controls instead. He touched a b.u.t.ton on the invisible wall and a keyboard materialized in the air before him. His fingers tapped against the control panel, shutting down the program. The inhospitable desert vanished like a mirage, replaced by the usual checkerboard grid pattern. The blazing sun and torrid temperature evaporated into the holodeck's memory banks.

"That's more like it, " Ro commented. "These devices are overrated, anyway. Just a way for spoiled, complacent people to avoid confronting reality." She sniffed disdainfully, further crinkling the distinctive ridges on her nose. "There aren't enough real problems in the galaxy that we need to waste our time fighting holographic monsters and villains? Why not put all that energy toward a cause worth fighting for?"

Like the plight of the Bajoran people? Barclay guessed that Ro was thinking of the generations of persecution her people had been subjected to by the Carda.s.sians. Still, holotechnology had its uses; numerous studies had proved that it helped starship crews cope psychologically with the rigors of interstellar travel. Only rarely did an individual become overly dependent on the escapist fantasies it provided.

Like me.

"You've never used a holodeck?" he asked her incredulously. "Not even for harmless recreation?"

"Well, maybe once in a while." She blushed slightly. "Strictly as a means of exercise, of course. To maintain physical fitness."

Barclay was relieved to hear that Ro wasn't completely averse to the occasional holographic diversion; it made her somewhat less intimidating. But before he could ask her what her favorite programs were, a doorway whooshed open and Lwaxana Troi burst into the holodeck. "Is it working?" she asked anxiously. She looked fl.u.s.tered and out of breath. "Please tell me you have it working by now!"

"N-not quite," Barclay admitted, reluctant to disclose that he hadn't even isolated the problem yet. Perhaps the matter conversion and holographic imagery subsystems were not integrated properly? "But we're making progress. There's still time-"

"Not anymore!" Lwaxana shook her head. "The Tadigean delegates have just arrived, forty-eight hours early, and they want to start the negotiations right away!"

Under the circ.u.mstances, there was no choice but to fire up the Tadigean program and hope for the best. Barclay held his breath as the holodeck transformed itself into a dank, humid, moonlit swamp, complete with bugs, moss, mud, and rotting vegetation, all of which the holodeck did an impressive, if uncomfortable, job of simulating. A sour miasma, redolent of decaying leaves and mildew, hung over the scene. A leafy canopy filtered the luminous glow of the planet's twin moons. Moss hung from drooping tree branches. Mosquitoes swarmed over the stagnant water. Algae coated the surface of the pools. Fungi sprouted atop rotting logs. A carnivorous plant captured a slow-moving spider. Snakes slithered through the tall gra.s.s and shrubs.

Lwaxana eyed the murky setting with distaste. "Next time," she vowed, "I'm insisting on a species that comes from a tropical beach planet."

Something splashed in the shadows. Ro muttered beneath her breath.

"What was that, Ensign?" Lwaxana asked.

Ro patted her hip. "Just missing my phaser."

"I had no choice but to confiscate it," Ubaan reminded her. He had removed the phaser from the holochamber a few minutes earlier. "Our agreement with the Tadigeans was quite explicit on this point. No weapons of any kind are allowed at the meeting."

"So you said," Ro said, not sounding very happy about it.

Barclay wondered why Ro felt she needed a phaser at trade negotiations. She seemed a little fuzzy on the concept of peaceful diplomacy. Personally, he was worried more about the stability of their holographic environment. Lwaxana had insisted that he and Ro be on hand to deal with any technical glitches that might arise during the meeting. He crossed his fingers and hoped that their services would not be necessary.

Like I've ever been that lucky.

They were convened beneath a tented pavilion located upon a solid patch of land, surrounded by a densely forested network of shallow ponds and tributaries. A lighted brazier burned ceremonial incense. A polished metal gong hung from a carved wooden frame. A waterproof carpet, boasting intricate geometric designs, protected their shoes from the mushy soil. Plush velvet cushions awaited the delegates' posteriors; by all reports, the Tadigeans weren't big on chairs.

Barclay didn't notice any obvious flaws in the program. The flames flickered convincingly. Incense tickled his nose. So far, so good.

"Very well," Lwaxana declared. She was even more ornately dressed than before. Her floor-length purple silk gown was trimmed with shimmering golden lace. A collar of Joranian ostrich feathers fanned out behind her head. A silver tiara, studded with polished Spican flame gems, crowned her auburn curls. The seductive scent of Deltan perfume competed with the incense. She hefted the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, a large clay pot that looked considerably less impressive than its t.i.tle. Barclay thought he glimpsed a bit of mold along its brim. "Let's meet our guests."

Ubaan banged on the gong with a mallet. A resounding clang echoed across the swamp, hurting Barclay's ears. All eyes turned toward the gleaming steel archway opposite the pavilion. The door slid open and the delegates hopped in.

The Tadigeans were a nocturnal race of amphibious bipeds. In other words, they were big, talking frogs. Bulging throats, slimy skin, bug eyes, wide mouths, webbed fingers...the whole nine yards. Mucus coated their skin in lieu of clothing; most of the Tadigeans wore only a scaly belt bearing various tools and insignia. Larger and more ma.s.sive than Barclay and the others, they were about the size of a gorilla or mugato. Their smooth skin was mostly dark green but displayed a lighter shade of chartreuse upon their bellies. A pair of bright orange sacs bulged above and behind their blood-red eyes. They smelled like onions. Barclay mentally flashed on a dog-eared copy of The Wind in the Willows that he had read to pieces as a child. Mister Toad had come calling on the Cataria, along with four of his a.s.sociates. The archway vanished as the holodeck doors sealed behind them.

"Welcome, honored guests," Lwaxana said grandly. She held aloft the Sacred Chalice. "In the name of my ill.u.s.trious ancestors, and in the spirit of universal friendship, I ask you to accept our humble hospitality."

Barclay winced as Ubaan banged the gong again.

"Thank you, Madam Amba.s.sador," the lead Tadigean croaked. A translucent crystal pendant dangling from a chain around his neck distinguished him from his companions. A set of bony "horns" crested his skull. Along with the other Tadigeans, he gazed about the simulated swamp in wonderment. "This is astounding. When you said you could approximate our environment, I had no idea you would go to such lengths." A long pink tongue s.n.a.t.c.hed a holographic firefly out of the air. Barclay hoped the program had gotten the taste right. "If I did not know better, I would swear I was back on Tadigea!"

Judging from their reaction, Barclay guessed that their visitors were unfamiliar with holodeck technology. They must not get out much.

Lwaxana handed off the chalice to Ubaan. She held out her hand to her froggy counterpart. "Amba.s.sador Ghebh, I presume?"

"I am Ghebh," he confirmed brusquely. His horizontal pupils narrowed as he spotted Barclay and Ro standing off to the side. His vocal sac swelled aggressively. "What is Starfleet doing here?"

"Independent observers," Lwaxana said smoothly. "Nothing to be concerned with."

Ghebh obviously disagreed. "That was not part of the agreement!" His fellow Tadigeans croaked quietly between themselves.

"We'd be h-happy to leave," Barclay volunteered. He stepped toward the archway a little too eagerly.

"Stay where you are, Lieutenant," Lwaxana ordered. She gestured at the verdant marsh around them. "Starfleet's a.s.sistance is required to duplicate your environment, in order to ensure your comfort during these talks. Surely you won't hold that against us?"

Ghebh contemplated the uniformed officers. Barclay fidgeted nervously, uncomfortable at being the center of attention. Ro seemed to take the awkward situation in stride. "How many Starfleet 'observers' are aboard this vessel?"

"Only these two," Lwaxana a.s.sured him. "Believe me, they're of no importance. Just pretend they're not even here. Heaven knows that's what I do." She indicated the cushions upon the carpet. "Please, let us begin our negotiations."

The Tadigean amba.s.sador hastily conferred with his a.s.sociates. "Our plans are unchanged. There will be no negotiations." The other amphibians took up defensive positions in front of their leader. "You are our prisoner."

"What?" Lwaxana said indignantly. "This is outrageous. You must be joking."

Instead of responding, Ghebh grimaced in concentration. A clear membrane slid upward over his eyes. The crystal pendant upon his chest began to emit an unearthly blue light. He chanted hoa.r.s.ely in a language unrecognized by Barclay's universal translator. Perhaps there was a telepathic component to the chant that the translator couldn't pick up on?

"Ughh!" Ubaan grunted and clutched his head. Veins bulged alarmingly upon his temples. His eyes rolled upward until only the whites were visible. He toppled forward onto the carpet.

The man's collapse startled Barclay. "Mister Ubaan? Flev?" The stricken attache lay unconscious on the carpet. His limbs twitched spasmodically. Barclay shared an anxious look with Ro, who appeared equally baffled by this unexpected turn of events. I don't understand, he thought. What's happening?

Lwaxana Troi seemed to be affected as well. She teetered unsteadily upon her feet but somehow managed to remain conscious. "My thoughts!" she groaned. Her eyes glazed over. "Get out of my brain, you toad..." Her voice faltered. "It hurts..."

They're targeting the telepaths, Barclay realized. Both Betazoids were obviously being subjected to some kind of psychic a.s.sault. Lwaxana's mental defenses were apparently more formidable than her aide's, yet she was clearly weakening. He guessed that she couldn't hold out much longer.

Unless...

Jumping forward, he removed his cap and pressed it down onto Lwaxana's head. The desperate move yielded immediate results. Lwaxana stood up straight, regaining her balance. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Her eyes came back into focus. "My head," she gasped. "I can think again!"

How about that? Barclay thought. It actually worked! Just as he'd hoped, the psychic baffler in the cap was shielding Lwaxana from Ghebh's attack. Now, if we can just get her away from these frogs in one piece...

The nict.i.tating membrane over Ghebh's eyes retracted, but his crystal pendant continued to glow intensely. He glowered at Barclay and Ro. "Subdue the Starfleet mammals!" he commanded his subordinates. "Bring me the amba.s.sador!"