Part 10 (1/2)

Gruzinov sighed, heavily. ”All right, you've made your point. But in practical terms, what we are talking about still amounts to a jailbreak, so for G.o.d's sake, be careful. If you're caught, J'drahn could have you arrested and shot and then claim some overzealous guard thought you were an intruder.”

”Which is why my communicator will remain on at all times, so that you and Mr. Data can monitor and record everything that happens,” said Picard. ”Even overzealous guards would hesitate to fire on someone in a Starfleet uniform, and if I am caught, I shall immediately advise them that they are being recorded. They would not risk harming a Starfleet captain, Ivan. At worst, they would take me into custody and inform Governor T'grayn, who would take no action without informing Overlord J'drahn. Do you perceive any flaw in my logic, Mr. Data?”

The android shook his head. ”None, sir.”

”Satisfied?” Picard said to Gruzinov.

”At least take a couple of security officers down with you,” said Gruzinov.

”No,” said Picard. ”My presence alone may not be perceived as a threat, but more would increase the odds of someone getting nervous. I admit it's a calculated risk, Ivan, but I have weighed it carefully. And we need Colonel Z'gral.”

Gruzinov nodded. ”Yes, I am afraid we do. The old man simply wouldn't listen to anybody else.”

”Then it's settled. Let's get on with it,” Picard said, stepping up onto the transporter pads.

Data moved over to the control station.

”Have you got a fix on the estate, Mr. Data?” asked Picard.

”One moment, sir, I am entering the coordinates Captain Gruzinov specified right now... .” A moment later, he said, ”I have a fix, sir.”

”Scan for life-forms,” said Picard.

”I am showing a fair number of life-forms on the grounds of the estate, sir, as well as in the outbuildings and on the first and second floors of the residence itself. However, on the third floor, in the east wing, I am scanning only one K'tralli life-form.”

”That'll be Z'gral,” said Gruzinov.

”Lock in those coordinates, Mr. Data, and stand by to energize,” Picard said.

”Locked in, sir. Standing by.”

”Energize,” Picard said.

The moment Picard dematerialized, Gruzinov touched his insignia, activating his communicator. ”Gruzinov to bridge,” he said.

”Lieutenant Koski here, sir. Go ahead.”

”Stand by to monitor Captain Picard's transmission,” said Gruzinov. ”We'll monitor from here, as well. Patch the signal through to the s.h.i.+p's data banks and begin recording now.”

”Aye-aye, sir.”

”Gruzinov out.” He nodded to Data. ”Put it through the board speakers, Mr. Data.”

”Aye, sir.”

”Keep a firm fix on the captain and stand by to get him out of there instantly if anything goes wrong,” Gruzinov said. ”And cross your fingers.”

Data looked puzzled. ”All of them, sir?”

Gruzinov smiled and held up his hand. ”No, Mr. Data. Just these two.”

Data looked puzzled, but did as he was told. ”Now let's just hope that n.o.body does anything stupid,” said Gruzinov.

Picard materialized in a large, airy, and well-furnished sitting room on the third floor of Colonel Z'gral's residence. He glanced around quickly. The floor was exquisitely laid in rich, highly polished, contrasting woods, and the walls were hung with ornate tapestries. There were a number of comfortable reading chairs upholstered in some sort of dark, attractively textured animal hide placed around the room, and a large sofa upholstered in the same material roughly in the center, placed so that it faced an entertainment console built into the wall. There was a large, beautifully carved table with some chairs around it and a fresh bowl of fruit placed in the center, and Picard felt a soft breeze coming in from the open doors leading to the balcony.

It did not look even remotely like a prison. It looked more like the palatial estate of some aristocrat, which was exactly what it was at one time. Gruzinov had told him that before the revolution, this sprawling estate had been the private residence of a K'tralli prince. Now, most of the old estates and palaces were the private residences of governors and high-ranking bureaucrats in J'drahn's administration. There was a new order, but for the K'tralli people, nothing much had changed.

Picard heard the tapping sounds of someone working at a computer keyboard coming from the open doors to the bedroom. He moved so that he could look through the doors and saw a figure dressed in a richly embroidered robe seated at a large desk, with his back to him. The man looked old, for his hair was completely white, falling down well below his shoulders, and his head was bald on top. However, his shoulders still looked broad and powerful, and he sat erect in his chair. It was not the figure of a frail and sickly old man, thought Picard, but of a man who, despite his age, kept himself in excellent physical condition.

”Colonel Z'gral?” he said.

The man stopped typing and turned. His dark eyes registered surprise when he saw Picard, and he rose to his feet at once with a fluid motion. Again, Picard thought, not the reaction of a frail old man on his last legs. His features showed his age, but the eyes were bright and clear, and his posture was that of a soldier. ”Who are you?”

”My name is Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the Federation stars.h.i.+p Enterprise. And it is my understanding that you are being held here against your will.”

”A Federation stars.h.i.+p?” said Z'gral. ”By the G.o.ds! At last! I had almost given up hope. Has J'drahn been removed from power? Has the government fallen?”

”No, Colonel, I am afraid not,” Picard said. ”That is partly why I have come to see you.”

”How many men have you brought with you?”

”I am alone.”

”Alone? Are you mad? How did you get past the guards?”

”I transported directly from my s.h.i.+p,” Picard replied. ”The same way we can get you out of here, sir. However, for the sake of formality, it would have to be at your request.”

”Oh, yes, of course,” Z'gral said. ”I must request ... what do you call it? Political asylum?”

”That is correct, sir,” said Picard.

Z'gral nodded. ”Consider the request made, Captain,” he said. ”But I must first get these computer files.” He sat down at the desk. ”I have been writing my memoirs, with little hope of anyone ever seeing them. But it is all here, a complete record of all J'drahn's nefarious-” There was the sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall. Z'gral looked up. ”Quickly, the balcony!”

Picard turned immediately and ran out onto the balcony, careful to sidle around the open doors, so that he would not be silhouetted in the light from the room behind him. He stood just outside, pressed against the wall, as the doors to Colonel Z'gral's room opened. Several guards came marching in, and Picard risked a quick glance inside. What he saw made his hand reach immediately for his phaser. The guards were wearing the uniforms of Romulan centurions.

Picard pressed himself back up against the wall, his mind racing. Romulans! Here, in Federation territory! He looked out over the balcony. It was dark outside, but in the illumination of the floodlights covering the grounds of the estate, he could make out the guards patrolling below. And they were all Romulans, as well.

”What do you want?” he heard Z'gral demand of the guards.

”Your life, Colonel,” one of the Romulans replied.

”Hold it!” said Picard, coming in from the balcony. As the startled Romulans turned toward him, raising their disruptors, Picard fired with his phaser on wide beam. The Romulans fell without a sound.

”Are they dead?” Z'gral asked.

”No, merely stunned,” Picard replied.

”Pity,” said Z'gral.

”Enterprise to Picard!” Gruzinov's voice came over the communicator. ”Jean-Luc, are you all right? What's happening?”