Janeway stepped into a link, but the icon in the circle next to her didn’t shift places.
“Why isn’t it moving?” Janeway asked the agent’s attendant.
Milla lifted her single lens, in a practiced, graceful gesture.
“It won’t shift unless you’re the only one standing in a link.
You’ll see people wait forever, acting as if they aren’t participating in order to deceive the other players.” She dropped her lens with a delicate shrug. “I don’t usually play with Hamilt’s crowd. They take it so very seriously.”
Milla drifted off, her gauzy drapery making it seem as if she glided over the floor. Janeway dropped her visor to hang from the silken cord around her neck, returning the room to blandness.
The Tutopans mingled together, those playing and those not, with some in deep conversation right in the midst of the circles and icons, oblivious to the images reflected on their clothing. Now she understood why Andross had insisted she and Torres wear these beige robes. She didn’t think she looked particularly refined, but she decided she could look determined—a force to be reckoned with.
Torres wandered over, kicking at the long skirts. She was wearing her visor. “I don’t get it.”
Janeway suppressed a smile. “Come now, Lieutenant, think of how ridiculous some of our games would seem if seen from an alien perspective.”
“At least someone wins when you play croquette,” Torres pointed out.
“I’m sure there are winners in this game as well, they simply aren’t obvious by our standards.”
“It seems pretty senseless to me. For people who are so crazy about rules, it’s played completely at random. No one even knows who will be the next to move something.”
“Perhaps it’s a necessary antidote to their structured way of life.
They must need some sort of chaotic release, and this is actually fairly tame compared to what they could be doing.”
Janeway gestured to a nearby group, lowering her voice. “There are other reasons for this setup. Have you noticed how sound doesn’t carry in this room?”
Torres cocked her head. “I hadn’t realized. It’s true, I hear voices, but they’re muted. I can’t make out any words.”
“Each of these circles creates an isolation buffer. They can converse in complete privacy within arm’s reach of each other.
That must be very convenient in a society that values information so highly.”
Torres nodded, gazing around with new interest.
“Think of this as a lesson in diplomacy,” Janeway told her.
“It’s a test of our survival skills,” Torres replied bluntly.
“These people smile at each other, then they attack.”
Janeway smiled at the young woman, knowing this was something that Tuvok couldn’t understand—the way Torres complemented her, as if a more impetuous part of herself had been given freedom to express the things that she was constrained to hold back.
“Whatever it is,” Janeway finished, “keep your eyes on those two.” She gestured to the Tutopans wearing the distinctive Board Member signet on their foreheads. “Milla tells me they’re the Cartel supporters on the Board, Hobbs and Sprecenspire.”
“Keeping their distance from everyone else,” Torres commented.
“Especially Member Hamilt.”
“Aside from someone called the Eldern, there’s a fifth Member, Calvert.” Janeway watched Calvert, who was stooping, almost as if he didn’t want to tower over Hamilt, and eagerly nodding at something he was saying. He dashed off to snare Andross and draw him back to Hamilt’s side.
“Follow me.” Janeway didn’t like to be reduced to the Tutopan level of intrigue, but with Fee still nowhere to be found, she had to assume Andross was manipulating them again. She wasn’t above using Hamilt to get more information out of Andross.
She ignored Torres’s muttered complaints about the unwieldy robes as they crossed the room. They intercepted Andross before he could get away from Hamilt.
Janeway didn’t waste time. “Where’s Administer Fee? I thought she was supposed to be here.”
“She’ll arrive shortly.” Andross seemed preoccupied, his eyes constantly shifting as if calculating the effect of every movement, noting who was talking to whom, who was watching whom, who played, who didn’t….
Janeway noticed he paid more attention when Hamilt greeted her.
“You’re not playing?” Hamilt asked.
“Not at the moment,” Janeway replied.
“Neither is Andross here.” Hamilt had a lens perched in one eye, making him squint slightly. Calvert echoed his dire expression.
“I don’t know what the tournament is coming to, these days.”
Andross dipped his head in a gesture of respect. “Perhaps later.”
“I see one of your important business associates has joined in,” Hamilt added, with a polite nod in Torres’s direction. The Klingon kept her visor on, a slight sneer pulling at her upper lip. Thankfully, she said nothing this time.
Janeway asked Member Calvert, “Do all the board members participate in this tournament?”
“Most of the high officials play,” Hamilt said for the other man.
“Even the Eldern, though he couldn’t be here physically this evening.
I believe his projected image was near at hand a moment ago.”
“The Eldern is very ill,” Andross said, irritated. “He shouldn’t be making an appearance after sitting on the Board all day.”
“What is that?” Janeway asked, ignoring Andross in favor of Hamilt.
“Sitting on the Board?”
“The Board makes the administrative decisions for the House while in the Council Chamber.” Hamilt gestured matter-of-factly to the silver disk implanted behind his tiny ear. “We interface directly with the network.”
“All administrators above the level of agent are required to directly interface,” Andross agreed. “While the rest of our citizens are not allowed that privilege.”
“Not true, my boy,” Hamilt mildly chided. “There are numerous researchers and scientists who are granted direct interface, as well as those who create the tests—” “Only those who are approved by the Board,” Andross countered.
Hamilt gravely removed the lens from his eye. “The Eldern himself addressed the dangers of direct interface for the general populace.
Our latest reports indicate addiction rates are rising, and illegal operations are sending hotheads to the emergency wards every day.”
“You’re talking about criminals—I’m advocating interface for hardworking citizens whose lives would be enhanced a thousand percent, both in their work and their personal pursuits.”
Janeway was watching their exchange with interest, noting that Andross spoke much more passionately than she’d ever heard before.
Hamilt waved his stick, as if to say his complaints were unimportant.
“If you wish to make your opinion known, you are free to submit a review of the Eldern’s report. But as you can see from the reviews we did receive, a large percentage support the House in taking a sterner stance on interface.”
“Naturally!” Andross snapped. “Who would dare write a favorable review of interface? They might be sent to Harn-Tutopa to live with the waterbugs, or worse, to the Alleganey Crevasse.”
“Agent Andross!” Hamilt rebuked, drawing back. Even Calvert seemed amazed. “I’m shocked by the implications of your statement.”
Janeway thought this entire conversation was very revealing. “Do you mean to say, Agent Andross, that your government suppresses dissidents by interfering with their livelihood? I thought you said careers were chosen for everyone according to psychological and aptitude testing.”
“Tests are devised by the system,” Andross said righteously.
“They support those who fit the system, winnowing out those who are unusual or innovative.”
“You tested magnificently,” Hamilt murmured regretfully. “Yet there were those incidents of nervous disorder during your training. You’ve always stressed yourself unduly, my boy. Take advantage of your current position in the Hub to learn Cartel policies,” the older man advised.
“I know enough already. We must control our ties with the Cartel before it’s too late.” Andross’s words rang out, and started drawing attention to them.
“We’ll need agents such as yourself, my boy, to keep the House from falling into Cartel hands. Don’t you agree, Administer Fee?” he asked, turning to the woman who was approaching.
Janeway recognized the tall woman as the one Andross had been following through the Council Chamber. She was sinewy under her drapes, with her elbows and neck jutting out awkwardly, as if she was nothing but large bones and taut muscle. Her formal greeting, a triangle of her two huge hands, had none of the grace of Hamilt’s polished gesture in return.
“I believe Agent Andross will always be an asset to House Min-Tutopa,” Administer Fee replied plainly. “He has accomplished a great deal for one so young.”
“Yes, of course,” Hamilt agreed. “Giving away training on his estates, bleeding his holdings dry to support these good-for-nothings who complain it’s the system that oppresses them, when the House provides an equal chance for everyone.”
“Hardly equal!” Andross protested.
“Equal, I say,” Hamilt retorted. “Fee here is proof enough of that.
Born from nothing, trapped in the backwater sludge of the borderlands, she was raised to become an administrator of a province.”
Fee’s features were relatively angular for a Tutopan, revealing the flash of painful self-consciousness that passed through her.
Andross visibly bridled at the attack.
“It’s true, I came from nowhere,” Fee said quietly. “It’s also true that I merely fit certain criteria at certain times in my life. The fact that I was able to develop to my full potential does not necessarily mean others have the same opportunity.”
“It’s this idealism of the individual that will bring down our House,” Hamilt insisted. “You and the Eldern conspire to destroy the very structure which protects us. Only if we stand united will we keep the Cartel from taking control of our business.”
Fee shook her head decisively. “The only thing that can destroy the House is to deprive our people of their natural right to chose for themselves.”
“We shall see,” Hamilt said coolly “This situation cannot continue much longer.”
Fee smiled in the direction of Eldern’s projected image. “The Eldern refuses to die, and for that I am grateful. I would not want this dispute solved by the death of a wise and compassionate man. He knows better than you or I, that the individual is the heartbeat of our House.”
Hamilt abruptly turned away. “Don’t let me take any more of your time, Administer. Those people have come all the way from the Hub to speak with you—an important piece of business, I am assured by Agent Andross. One that takes him away from his regular duties.”
Fee gave Janeway a surprisingly sympathetic smile.
“I understand there is some urgency in this matter.”
“Yes, there is.” Janeway glanced at Board Member Hamilt, who was listening expectantly. Calvert hovered behind him, also watching them.
“May I have a moment with you in private, Administer?”
“My pleasure,” Fee agreed. “Come walk with me—” “Agent Andross!”
Milla called out, bustling up with unseemly haste. “We’ve received a message about that computer. Prog says it’s an emergency.”
“I’ll have to take this,” Andross told Fee. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Janeway stopped him. “Does this concern our computer?”
Andross shot Milla a look. “I had word before the tournament started that there might be a problem with the linkage.”
Milla was busy patting an errant curl back into place. “Prog says they’re doing what they can, but they may lose the whole system—” “Don’t tell me you’re trying to operate the processor!” Torres protested.
“I—I’m not sure. You’ll have to talk to Prog.”
Janeway was glad they had an audience of three board members.
“Take us there right now.”
“Do we have your permission, Administer Fee?” Andross asked.
“The processor has been installed in the Seat’s communications tower.”
Fee drew in her breath, glancing at Hamilt, who was listening as if he couldn’t quite understand where this was leading. After a brief hesitation, she agreed. “You have my permission.”
Andross’s face lit up. “I’ll have an aircar ready immediately.”
“Just when this was getting interesting,” Hamilt commented, obviously intrigued.
Janeway wished she had time to try to figure out what all these undercurrents implied, but they had to make sure their processor remained intact.
“We’ll need our equipment,” she told Andross, and he gave Milla a series of orders as they left the tournament hall.
Torres trotted after them. “How can they install the processor without the flowchart of the procedural sequence? Unless they altered the operating system…”
Janeway tightened her lips. “Your ship better be fast, Andross.”
“I knew it was a bad idea to come here,” Neelix said to himself.
“I told them so, but did they listen to me? Of course not, why should they? It’s only Neelix—only the expert on this area of space. But does that make a difference? No…”
Neelix peeked around the corner, trying to keep his breath from rasping in his throat. He figured he must have finally lost Bladdyn and Rep, but the last time he started to relax, both of them had appeared in front of him blocking the only exit from the marketplace. He’d gotten away by jumping the expressway at the last instant, almost breaking a finger when he forced the door open to get inside. The car had taken him to the far side of the Hub, leaving him searching for the past few hours for a way back to the ship.
Neelix edged forward, certain he was almost home. He could almost smell Kes’s hair, and the way her lips felt against his skin. All he had to do was go through the hall link to the next pointed room, Lobby 58, where the lift would take him up the docking spire. He could see the lobby through the toroidal tunnel, so safe and sedate. There were even a few red Enforcers wandering among the tourist crowd, not that he wanted to call attention to himself from the Cartel.
Neelix straightened his shoulders and started toward the hall link.
Rep burst out of a waste-reclamation chamber in front of him.