"He certainly hides it well," Pulaski added.

"Self-recrimination seems out of character, based on what we've seen so far of Mr. Undrun,"

Picard said.

"I did some checking on his Federation personnel profile," Troi said. "He came from a well-to-do family on Noxor and enjoyed all the privileges that come with wealth. But the Noxorans have a strong dedication to public service. The wealthier the family, the greater the pressure to devote one's life to helping others. It's almost a military discipline that's instilled in young Noxorans."

"All right," Pulaski said, "so he joined the Federation Aid and a.s.sistance Ministry."

"And he rose through the ranks very quickly. It's difficult to tell his age because all Noxorans look youthful, but he's quite young to have reached this level of responsibility. The captain's observation of his single-mindedness was very perceptive."

"It's very obvious," Picard interjected.

Deanna smiled. "Bureaucracies aren't famous for encouraging unbridled creativity.

The combination of Undrun's strict upbringing, his narrowly directed 127 focus on succeeding in public service, his total acceptance of bureaucratic restraints, and his insecurity all contribute to what we see as insensitive, unbending concentration on a single task."

"He operates by the book," Picard said softly. "I've known plenty of officers like that.

Frankly, at the risk of appearing insensitive, I must admit that Undrun's childhood traumas are the least of my concerns. Finding out who has Will Riker and getting him back quickly and safely rank somewhat higher. Counselor, I need you on the bridge."

Hydrin Ootherai swept into the sovereign protector's spa.r.s.ely furnished office with a plump female aide in tow, but stopped abruptly when he saw Ayli seated on the deep-cushioned couch next to Lord Stross. The shadowreader half reclined against the pillowed arm, her legs tucked under her with a feline nonchalance that somehow made her look years younger. Her tawny hair fell across her face, but a sly smile betrayed her pleasure at Ootherai's consternation.

"What is she doing here?"

"I asked her to come here. I wanted her reaction to this."

"Afraid of another opinion?" Ayli challenged.

"Certainly not. Tresha?" He snapped his fingers and his young a.s.sistant sprang into action, setting up a spindly easel and placing several large boards on the sill. The boards were covered with a cloth shroud. When her preparations were complete, Ootherai took up a professorial position in front of the hidden display, visibly warming to one of his favorite pastimes-lecturing.

"You live for these little presentations of yours, don't you?" said Ayli, a d.i.c.ker of amus.e.m.e.nt glinting in her deep amber eyes.

"Symbols create reality. You know all about creating reality, Ayli was Strom shifted impatiently. "Get to it, Ootherai."

"Of course, my lord. It's immensely important that we present your weather control plan as the means of saving our world."

"It will save the world," Sum said firmly. "But will it get the citizens back on our side?"

Ootherai circled. "Without question. It's got all the right elements. We portray the Nuarans as hateful villains. We offer a homegrown solution to a crisis caused by those villains, and we outline a bold program addressing the worries that give all of us sleepless nights. It's the oklest epic in the universe-good guys against bad, us versus them-and you, Sovereign Protector Ruer Stross, are its hero."

Strom laced his fingers and rested his hands on his belly, mulling over the concept. "How do we present it?"

"We mount an all-fronts a.s.sault.

Special coverage in all the media, flooding our message into every Thiopan home. Rallies. Get children involved right from the start-capture the older generation by grabbing the young ones first. Make ours the tune to which every single Thiopan of intelligence will march. Positive reinforcement in every conceivable form.

Mount a religious crusade that will overwhelm those pitiful Sojourners and their outdated beliefs. And at the center of the campaign, this ... his With a flourish, the policy minister whipped the cloth off his easel, revealing a crisply drawn logo, with the Thiopan globe in the center, a ring of tiny sparkles around it, and a single stylized flower blooming behind and above the planet, all done in vibrant hues that bore no resemblance at all to the sepia haze that hugged the real world outside Stross's windows.

Ayli peered at the design with a hint of a smile. "Don't be stunned, Hydrin-but I like it.

It has a sort of magnetic charm."

Stross nodded. "Not bad, Ootherai."

"Just one little question," Ayli said. "Will this weather control project really work? Or are we selling a fantasy?"

"It will work," Stross growled. "I know it will."

Ootherai waved a hand. "That's of no consequence.

The important thing is the perception, not the reality.

Getting the people to devote their undying support to Lord Stross-that's what matters."

"Surely you're joking," Ayli said with a skeptical squint. "If the weather control project doesn't succeed, this planet could become unlivable. Or has that trivial fact eluded you and your symbolic brain?"

"Digest this trivial fact, Ayii,"

Ootherai parried, thrusting his finger at her. "If we don't regain control of the political situation on Thiopa-if we don't crush those miserable anarchists under a mountain of revitalized popular support-this government will be long gone by the time the last molecule of air is polluted beyond breathing."

The intercom on the simple plank desk beeped. "Lord Stross, Planetary Communications calling," said a controlled female voice.

Stross reached over and thumbed the switch.

"Stross-what is it?"

Ootherai frowned. "I wish he'd use his full t.i.tle when dealing with subordinates," he muttered.

"Captain Picard is calling from the Enterprise. Shall I put him through?" "Let me screen this, Excellency," Ootherai said. Stross responded with an affirmative gesture, and Ootherai moved to the two-way viewscreen in an alcove across the room. "Communications control, I'll take it." The receiver activated and lean-Luc Picard's face appeared on the monitor. "Captain ..." "Minister Ootherai, is Protector Stross available?"

"I'm afraid not. Ire's involved in a critical consultation and cannot be disturbed.

Perhaps I would suffice?"

"I'd appreciate your pa.s.sing along the substance of our conversation to him."

"Certainly, Captain. I surmise from your tone of voice that the substance is quite serious."

"It is indeed. On an inspection visit to your storage facility, my first officer was apparently taken prisoner by a team of Sojourner guerrillas. I request your a.s.sistance in effecting his safe return."

The Thiopan's expression turned remote.

"I'm sorry to hear about Commander Riker's misfortune. But I fear there is little we can do to help."

"Minister Ootherai," Picard said warningly, "even though Thiopa isn't bound by Federation laws, your government has a responsibility to-was "Captain, before you finish that thought, I am constrained to point out that your officer would be safe aboard your ship had you simply beamed the emergency supplies down upon your arrival. There was no need for any of your personnel to set foot on Thiopa."

"We were not aware of any danger. Your government knew we were sending people down, yet you failed to warn us-was "We didn't know circ.u.mstances would arise that would have required warning. In hindsight, of course we would have cautioned you to keep your people on your ship. But I'm afraid hindsight won't help Commander Riker."

"What can you do to help?"

"Nothing, really."

"Pardon me?"

"Do we have a faulty signal, Captain Picard? I shall repeat: there is little we can do to help you locate your missing man. Oh, certainly we can instruct our security forces to keep an eye out for him, and we can remain alert for intelligence we might glean from our agents watching the Sojourners. But we are fighting to retain order on this planet. We simply must devote all our resources to controlling the growing threat of civil unrest. I do regret that we cannot do more, but the simple fact is, we can't."

Picard's eyes grew steely, but his inflection became almost offhand. "Without more cooperation, I'm afraid we cannot even begin delivery of those supplies Thiopa evidently needs quite badly.

I'll give you twelve hours to reconsider your current position. At that time, if your government isn't more forthcoming, the Enterprise will leave orbit."

"Without your kidnapped officer?"

"I've lost men before, Minister Ootherai. I value every member of my crew equally, but no single life takes precedence over the safety of this vessel or her mission."

"Captain, I can hardly believe-was Picard cut him off. "Twelve hours. We shall look forward to a change of heart. Picard out."

"Captain," Troi said, "departing without giving them the relief supplies would be punishing innocent people on Thiopa-was "Perhaps, Counselor. But everything we've seen so far casts severe doubts on the Thiopans"

claims of widespread famine. They had enough resources to throw that anniversary feast."

"Which may have been staged for effect."

"Or it may have been an example of mismanagement of resources rather than outright shortages. The Federation is not obliged to sanction such mismanagement. If Thiopa's problems are self-made, so must the solutions be."

Data swiveled in his seat. "The ecological damage to Thiopa is verifiable, sir."

"I'm aware of that, Commander, and of the likelihood of food shortages in certain areas of the planet.

But at present it appears quite unlikely that any of the food we've brought will reach those who are most in need, if they are allied with the Sojourner movement."

Wesley Crusher swallowed, then spoke up.

"What about Commander Riker, sir? We aren't really going to leave without him in twelve hours, are we?"

"Not without doing everything possible to locate him and get him back to the Enterprise alive and well,"

Picard said, his tone softer, but still determined. "I have a strong hunch the status quo won't last the twelve hours. Meanwhile, let's utilize our own 133 resources. Mr. Data, initiate a sensor search for Commander Riker."

Nothing could soothe Ruer Stross like the sweet aroma of sawdust tickling his nose. He knew it to be the first sensory impression he could recall, going back to infancy. More satisfying than mother's milk, food, sunlight, s.e.x. His father had been a woodworker, and the memory of sleeping in the cradle next to his father's workbench still gave Stross a warm glow. Unlike some fathers who wanted their work to remain mysterious to their children, as if the withholding of that knowledge could help father retain power over son, W'rone Stross had initiated his young son before the child was old enough to use the tools himself. Ruer cherished the images that were still fresh and unblemished in his heart and mind-his father's ma.s.sive hand guiding the son's tiny one, providing the muscle so the boy could learn the art. All the years he'd watched his father, Ruer knew that finding objects hidden in wood was more than W'rone's livelihoodit was his life.

In all other things, the elder Stross was the mildest of men. He loved his wife quietly. He took pride in his son without boasting. He helped his neighbors without fanfare. Ruer could not recall his father ever raising his voice either in anger or in joy, and he had no memories of tears or broad grins. Except in his workshop. It was as if W'rone had stored his pa.s.sions, saving them for the holy place where his hands joined with nature's invisible hands to make magic. Wherever they'd lived while Ruer was growing up, Father had always set aside a shed or cellar or room, or just a corner, to consecrate as the place where his 134 pa.s.sion could take flight. It wasn't something Ruer ever quite understood, but he never questioned it. He'd somehow absorbed the feeling and made it part of himself. Which was why, all these years later, the most powerful man in the world could find true peace only at his own workbench. "Is this the time for puttering?"

Ootherai said to the Sovereign Protector's back, since that was all he could see with Stross bent over his woodworking tools. The sawdust commade the policy minister's nose twitch with the beginnings of a sneeze.

Ayli was standing with her elbows propped on the workbench, watching with interest as her ruler carefully cut shapes out of wood. She had no idea what they might eventually become.

"Any time is the time for this," Stross said in a calm voice. "We need those Federation supplies," Ootherai said. "They will be our insurance against future dislocations-not to mention a way of convincing the people in Endraya to forsake their loyalty to the Sojourners. Without the food from the Federation, we lose that tool. You know about tools, Lord Stross."

"That I do, my friend. You need the right one for the right job. And when you can't find the one you want, you have a choice: don't do the job, or find something else that works."

"Will anything else work?" asked Ayli.

"Maybe, maybe. If we have learned anything from the Nuarans, it is the value of having something somebody else wants. The Enterprise has what we want. The Sojourners have what Picard wants. Find Riker-and we will get our supplies."

"You make that sound so simple," Ootherai sneered.

"Who's in charge here, anyway?" Stross said without looking up. "We've got a good idea where they're taking Riker. Mount a force to get him back."

Ootherai snorted a derisive laugh.

"Invade the Sa'drit? Impossible."

"We don't have to invade. All we have to do is punish them a little. We have weapons that can do that."

"And they have weapons that can stop us."

"Use that symbolic brain of yours," Stross prodded. "Find a way."

Captain Picard sat with his back to the huge ports in the bridge observation lounge. Across the conference table, Data was completing a report on his visit to Dr. Kael Keat and her lab earlier in the day. "Your foray seems to have raised as many questions as it answered."

Data nodded. "It is safe to a.s.sume there is much Dr. Keat has not told me." "Did you get enough on this weather control plan to judge whether it's feasible?"

"No, sir. I was able to examine only the theoretical foundations of the project."

"And what's your opinion on that?"

"Theoretically their plan could provide the sort of weather modification they seek."

"But can they put these theories into practice?"

"Doubtful, Captain. Unless they possess technological capabilities we have not observed-which is possible."

"Speaking of possibilities, do you think Dr.

Keat might reveal more information to you?"

"She did seem fascinated with me." From most anyone else, the statement would have smacked of conceit. From Data, it was a simple factual account. "Well, you're a most fascinating fellow, Mr. Data. Depending on what happens with-was The intercom tone interrupted, followed by the unwelcome imperious voice of Frid Undrun.

"Captain Picard, I want an explanation."

"Of what, Mr. Amba.s.sador?"

"Your unauthorized actions. We'll meet now."

"If you insist. Report to the bridge conference lounge. Picard out."

Data started to get up. "Shall I leave, sir?"