The Ferengi motioned the raiders to step back, but one of them dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before the intruder. "The Wisdom Mask," he intoned.

"This is indeed an honor," said a Ferengi with a low bow. "If you are Captain Picard, rest a.s.sured we will uphold our end of the bargain and get you back to your ship."

"No, I'm not Picard," Lewis announced. "But he's probably not far behind me."

"Who are you, then?" asked the other Ferengi suspiciously.

"What you call me doesn't matter," answered Lewis. Haughtily, he threw back his head and gave them a good look at the swirling mosaic. "What matters is that I am the ruler of Lorca. I have the mask."

"But you are only one person," a Ferengi pointed out, "a person who looks as if he has been scrambling for his life."

The long-haired human c.o.c.ked his mask at the elephant-eared humanoid. "One person and onephaser . I will be happy to do business with you, but I will be just as content to do businesswithout you. You don't want to rule this planet-you just want to conduct commerce at advantageous rates. Well, I'm a man who thinks as you do. Wouldn't it be wise to have someone you can deal with as ruler of Lorca? I'll make it worth your while."

A Ferengi nodded his silver mask thoughtfully. "That is for the future. I a.s.sume you will want something in exchange today."

"Well"-Lewis glanced behind him-"my immediate requirements are to slow down the party that is right behind me. I don't know how many there are, but they also have phasers."

"They would be the ones you stole the Wisdom Mask from?"

"Look," said Fenton Lewis, leveling his phaser at the closest Ferengi. "I'm not asking for much. If you let me pa.s.s through your camp, that should be enough to slow them down. Then, later, we can do all sorts of business-masks in exchange for weapons and equipment."

"All very agreeable," replied a Ferengi, stroking the slender whip stuck in the garish sash around his plump middle. "We can start the trade with the Wisdom Mask."

"How much?" asked the other.

Lewis shook his head, refusing the deal. "You don't listen, do you? This mask is not for sale, but if you'll help me now, I'll repay you later ... in masks or aluminum or anything you want."

"But the Wisdom Mask is here now," a Ferengi calmly pointed out. "And all those other masks aren't."

"Yes," agreed his partner, "why don't you give us the mask now? We'll be happy to delay whoever is behind you."

"We'll even give you safe pa.s.sage on our ship," pledged the other. "To anywhere in the galaxy you want to go. First cla.s.s."

Lewis waved the phaser at them. "I'm done d.i.c.kering. The Wisdom Mask ismine , and it's going to stay that way. Now stand over there, so I can get through your camp. We'll talk another time."

But neither of the Ferengi moved. One of them spread his arms and motioned to the raiders to close in on Lewis. "I'm afraid we can't let you leave. We have to give you time to reconsider."

His companion drew his whip from his sash. "It would be wise to cooperate with us."

"Don't you get near me with that thing," Lewis threatened, dropping into a crouch and trying to cover them all with his phaser gun.

The Ferengi ignored him and stepped closer, emboldening their red-masked minions. One of them brandished a long pike, which he jabbed playfully at Lewis. Driven back against the wall of a hut, Lewis spun out of the way and fired his phaser at the pike-wielding Lorcan. The beam went a scant few centimeters before being deflected into the trees.

Aghast, Lewis fired blast after blast at his approaching foe. Each time, the phaser beam bounced harmlessly off an invisible force field.

"Antiphaser field," explained a Ferengi, pointing to the glowing orange ball, which strobed gently over their heads. "Very effective against Federation weaponry."

Fenton whirled in the other direction and tried to escape into the forest, but three ma.s.sive raiders were upon him in an instant. They grabbed the would-be king by his long hair and dragged him back, kicking and struggling, to face the Ferengi. Only the Wisdom Mask gave him any dignity at all.

The short humanoids had to stand on their tiptoes to reach the mask, as the Lorcans forced Lewis to lower his head. "Let's see who you really are," cackled a Ferengi, removing the Wisdom Mask.

The Lorcans gasped as they looked at the amba.s.sador's face, and some of them reached worriedly for the Wisdom Mask. But they needn't have worried, because the Ferengi were handling it like the precious commodity it was.

"Let me hold it," squealed one Ferengi.

"No, let me." The fatter one wrenched the mask away."You check the human's ident.i.ty. If he is the one we are looking for, there will be an even bigger bonus."

With that, Fenton Lewis bolted from the arms of his captors, but he only got a few meters before the brawny Lorcans tackled him again. A few upended him and suspended him in the air by his heels while the others kicked and punched him ruthlessly. When Lewis stopped struggling, they dropped him to the clay and stomped on his long hair with their boots to hold him down. Blood pouring from his mouth, he sputtered up at the Ferengi who leaned over him: "I am a Federation amba.s.sador. I demand diplomatic treatment. I demand to speak to your purser!"

The Ferengi turned back to his partner and clapped his hands. "I think we're in luck."

"Be positive."

The Ferengi nodded and turned to the globe hovering overhead. "Correlate this human's ident.i.ty with known felons."

A violet beam shot out of the globe and engulfed Lewis. He screamed in agony, as the raiders dropped him and backed fearfully away. The scanner probed his every molecule, dissected his DNA, and sped up his heartbeat to a high rev before it illuminated his nostrils and entered his brain. Fenton Lewis wasn't dead when the procedure had ended, but he wasn't moving, either, except to cough up tiny bits of phlegm.

"Federation Amba.s.sador Fenton Lewis," squealed a shrill voice. "Convicted of murdering two Ferengi. Sentence: death. Bonus alive: 900 primes. Bonus dead: 900 primes."

"No difference," one Ferengi said to the other.

"I don't relish having a human on board," said the other. "Not alive human."

"If he escapes, we'll lose our bonus."

"It's too risky to keep him alive," the other Ferengi agreed. He motioned to the raider with the long pike, and his pantomime left no doubt as to what he wanted the raider to do.

From their hiding place, Riker raised himself up to a crouch, but Jean-Luc put a restraining hand on the commander's shoulder. "Our phasers are useless in there," he whispered.

"Primitive weapons apparently still work," said Worf, gritting his teeth as he watched the red-masked Lorcan plunge his spear through the amba.s.sador's chest. With a loud wheeze, Fenton Lewis stopped moving entirely.

The Ferengi again addressed the glowing ball. "Relay to our transporter bay that we have a body to beam up: one human felon named Fenton Lewis. Please be sure we get the performance bonus."

"Yes, your lordship," the artificial voice squeaked.

The other trader sidled up to his partner. "Do you think we should beam up the mask?"

His partner studied the mesmerizing swirls of the nebula mask. "No. Let's keep it and wear it to their fair. We can use it to collect more masks, if nothing else."

"I think we should recruit more raiders. We've lost so many."

"Then let's stay another night," his partner agreed, staring into the vacant eyes of the Wisdom Mask. "I believe this is going to be our most successful trip ever."

"Can I hold the mask for a while? Please."

"Oh, all right." Reluctantly, he handed the mask to his partner.

The Ferengi never took their eyes off the priceless artwork as the whole camp became infused with a violet glow. The raiders bowed their red masks and watched reverently as Fenton Lewis's body disintegrated into a million dancing shapes before disappearing entirely.

"Double the guard," ordered the Ferengi, disappearing into one of the domed huts. "There are probably more of them out there."

The red masks turned suspiciously toward the forest, and Picard reached out and touched Riker's and Worf's shoulders. They turned and slowly crept back the way they had come. Worf took up the rear, training his phaser often on the raiders behind him, but the Lorcans didn't look anxious to leave the protective glow of the hovering ball.

After having crawled to a point where they could no longer see the guardian light of the Ferengi camp, Jean-Luc stood and wiped off his clothing. He knew he couldn't get off even half the dirt, but it was worth a try.

Riker and Worf rose to their feet. "That solves the Fenton Lewis problem-permanently," Riker said.

"But not the missing-mask problem," said Jean-Luc. "There has to be some way to get it back."

"For Piercing Blade or Almighty Slayer?" asked Will Riker.

Picard shrugged. "We'll let them sort that out." He turned to Worf. "What is your evaluation, Lieutenant?"

The Klingon made a low growl. "Their defense against our weapons is complete. To attack them, we would have to either disable that antiphaser field or use Lorcan weapons. We could, of course, ambush them on the trail."

Picard shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I don't want to turn this planet into a battleground between us and the Ferengi. On the other hand, negotiation would be a waste of time. They would probably demand theEnterprise in exchange for the Wisdom Mask."

Commander Riker was stroking his beard when his whole face brightened into a grin. "I know how we can get in there. With the exception of mine and Day Timer's, all of the masks we wore were old Raider's Masks that had been captured in battle and repainted. All we have to do is paint them red again, and we can stroll into their camp and be taken right in."

"An excellent idea," Worf agreed. "Then we bide our time until we can steal back the mask. If we're clever, they may not even know who took it. I volunteer."

"As do I," said Riker.

Jean-Luc smiled and patted their brawny shoulders. "I appreciate both the idea and your enthusiasm. But it's a very dangerous plan. You wouldn't stand a chance unless you had someone like Cold Angel or one of the other Lorcans to cover for you, to say and do the right thing."

Chapter Sixteen.

IKNOW THAT PLACE ," said Cold Angel, nodding the s.h.a.ggy Trainer's Mask thoughtfully. "It's an old gathering spot for raiders. Don't ask me how I know that, but I do."

The once warring Lorcans and the reunited sky people stood in an irregular circle, now one large band numbering twelve. They were six and six, the naked faces mingling with the masks. Riker had gathered up the three metal masks awarded for bravery in the tiny village north of them and had tossed the armor into the center of the gathering.

"That's our way in," he declared, pointing to the ivory Teacher's Mask, the vivid Archer's Mask, and the twining serpents of the Herbalist's Mask. "Those masks belonged to raiders until a few days ago. We heard the Ferengi say that they would stay at their camp another night to recruit more raiders. So we can paint the masks red, join their band, and just wait for the right opportunity to steal the Wisdom Mask."

"Aye, we can," responded Cold Angel, turning eagerly to the impa.s.sive Thunder Mask. "It would work, my lady. We can steal it right from under their noses."

Piercing Blade glanced at Picard, who stood next to her, frowning and ma.s.saging the cleft in his chin. He addressed himself to Riker. "Your plan has a chance to succeed, Number One, but it's still very dangerous. Are you forgetting those energized whips they have? Are you forgetting that our phasers will have no effect as long as that force field is protecting the Ferengi camp? You would have to use swords to battle your way out."

"I agree," proclaimed Piercing Blade in her most regal tone. "That is why Cold Angel, Medicine Maker, and I will be the three to infiltrate the raiders' band."

"Wait," Worf said, clearly disappointed. "This wasour idea."

"Yes," added Commander Riker, "and we are responsible for what Fenton Lewis did."

"He's paid for his treachery," she responded, turning to Captain Picard. "I absolve you and your comrades of any wrongdoing. You have served me well by telling me where the Wisdom Mask is and how I can get it back. Now you must leave the rest to us."

Before Picard could respond, Medicine Maker stepped forward, bowing apologetically. "Pardon me, my lady, but you can't pa.s.s yourself off as a raider. You would be recognized instantly. You have attributes no mask could hide."

Whether the n.o.blewoman blushed under her formidable mask, no one could tell, but she didn't immediately counter his argument.

"Besides," said Medicine Maker, "Lorca needs a living ruler, not another dead hero."

"I'll decide who should go," said Almighty Slayer. All eyes and all masks swiveled in the old man's direction as he hobbled forward. "Riker, Cold Angel, and I are the ones to do it. Cold Angel and I have the best chance of fooling the other raiders, and Riker claims to know something about these Ferengi." He touched his bandaged thigh. "This blasted wound will make us look all the more authentic."

"That is a very practical combination," proclaimed Data, stepping crisply to Almighty Slayer's side. "Because they are Lorcans, Slayer and Cold Angel will know how to speak and act, and there will be one great advantage in having Commander Riker with them. As soon as they seize the mask, he can signal to theEnterprise to beam them up. Escape will be instantaneous."

Picard turned to Piercing Blade, and they exchanged a look filled with longing and melancholy. "Very well," replied the captain, "if Lady Piercing Blade agrees, so do I. The least we can do is help the Lorcans get back the Wisdom Mask. Number One, you will go with them-with the proviso that you do exactly as Data suggested. I'm sure he can alter a communicator to send us a signal instead of a voice."

Riker nodded and glanced at Cold Angel. "We'll have to equip Almighty Slayer and Cold Angel with communicators, too, so that Data can lock on to all our coordinates."

Almighty Slayer clapped his hands excitedly. "I've got to make some red paint."

Dr. Pulaski glanced up at the brightening sky. "Can you make paint, paint the masks, and have them dry by tonight?"

"Certainly," answered the former peddler. "That's why the raiders chose red. It's a claybased paint that's simple to make, so it's easy to chuck it all and become a raider anytime you want. Piercing Blade, can your pages help me?"

"Certainly, Father." She motioned to the man and woman in the bronze oval masks to follow the famous warrior. As they strode off, Data, Riker, and Cold Angel began to confer, and everyone in the camp was suddenly busy. Piercing Blade turned slowly to the captain. "What will you be doing, Jean-Luc Picard?"

"I have to return to my ship," he told her. "My crew has been like Lorca, a people without a leader. They deserve to see their captain again."

"Oh," she moaned, "to think that all those women can see your naked face while I will be deprived of the sight of you."

"And I of you," he murmured.

Before they could edge closer to each other, Data interrupted them. "I need to contact the ship, sir. Shall I tell Geordi you're beaming up?"

"Yes. Three to beam up-Dr. Pulaski, Counselor Troi, and I. You and Lieutenant Worf can beam up when preparations have been completed here."

"Yes, sir." Data nodded, taking his communicator badge from his inside pocket.

But Jean-Luc wasn't paying any attention to the android and his conversation with theEnterprise . His eyes were again on Piercing Blade, and he was trying to commit every centimenter of her statuesque frame to memory.

"If you keep looking at me like that," she cooed, "I may not let you leave."

"I can't apologize." He smiled. "It may be a long time before I come back to Lorca. I have a lot to remember."

"Come back, Picard," she insisted, taking his hand in hers. "I'll give you more memories."

He squeezed her hand. "Rule wisely."

"Captain," said Data, "they are ready. Geordi is at the transporter controls."

"Good-bye," rasped Picard, reluctantly pulling away from Piercing Blade. He was joined by Dr. Pulaski and Counselor Troi.