Star Trek: The Next Generation: Guises of the Mind by Rebecca Neason

Author:Rebecca Neason
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Star Trek, Fiction
ISBN: 9780671798314
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1993-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

It was just after dawn. The members of the Council of Elders, the Gentleborn who were in the city for the King’s coronation, and many high-ranking officials and merchants were gathered at the temple to witness the final ceremony for the King’s Coming to Age.

Elana sat once more in the loft surrounded by the other Servants. Below her, the rite was just drawing to a close. The man she now knew to be Joakal’s brother had received his knee-length Vest of Manhood. But to Elana, the deep crimson color made it look like a cloak of blood, Joakal’s blood, overlaying the purity of the white clothes in which Beahoram had kept his vigil.

Faellon’s hands were lifted high in the final invocation. Elana was not listening; she was watching Beahoram and Aklier. In the darkest hours of the night, after the first moon had set and the small, second moon was in its descent, she had followed Aklier once more to the palace where she had seen him and his hirelings carry the inert bodies of the Federation people from their rooms. She had tried to pursue, but she soon lost sight of her quarry in the maze of palace corridors and back stairs. Elana was determined not to let that happen again. Today, tomorrow, however long it took, she would keep dogging their movements until they led her to Joakal.

The drone of the Chief Servant’s prayer ceased. Before he could dismiss the assembled officials, Beahoram raised himself from his knees, interrupting the rite before its completion. He turned to face the half-filled pews.

“My people,” he said, raising his voice to carry through the building. “My friends, the long night of my Vigil has ended. With it has gone the years of my youth. My Vigil was not an easy one. During the hours I knelt before this altar I had not only my own future to lay before the God, but the future of this planet. We are at a crossroads. The decision I soon must make will affect all of the generations to come.

“As you know, a starship is in orbit around our world. In the palace, representatives from that great organization, the United Federation of Planets, wait with a treaty for me to sign. All through my long Vigil I asked the God for guidance and for Wisdom in this decision. Only one answer came to me. I believe it came from the Voice of the God.”

Beahoram paused, letting the words sink into the minds of his listeners. They must believe his next command to be a divine directive. He waited a few seconds more.

“This is the answer the God has given to my long hours of imploring: the coronation must not wait. It must take place this afternoon, in the third hour after the sun has reached its zenith.”

Again Beahoram paused, this time to let the murmurs of shock and surprise that swept through the temple crescendo and die away.

Behind Beahoram, Faellon gasped. “But, Your Majesty, that is only nine hours from now.

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