(My favorite show Star Trek Next Generation meets my favorite movie Kingdom of Heaven)
Picard
walked into the city. He couldn't tell exactly where he was, or even
where he was supposed to be. That it was a place with almost as many
children and soldiers as traders and civilians was the second thing
he noticed. The first was a pair of travelers who obviously hadn't
been inside the walls of...wherever he was... any longer than
himself. He decided the best way to discover what was going on, and
yet avoid drawing attention to himself, would be to pass them slowly,
but not stop...
“I
have been a slave, or very near to one.” The whiter skinned man was
saying. “I will never keep one nor suffer any to be kept if I can
change it. Go your own way in peace.”
The
other man, who looked strangely Middle Eastern mounted a horse and
smiled softly. “Your quality will be known among your 'enemies',
before ever you met them my friend.” They bowed their heads to
each-other and parted ways. The Westerner simply walking his horse
further into the city.
He
couldn't explain why, but something told Jean-Luc to follow one of
them. Between following an apparent European and following one whose
culture and philosophy were likely so different from his own, the
choice was simple. Besides, if he would be here any length of time at
all, it would help to learn about this world straight from the horses
mouth...from someone both from this city and on this world. His was
not a first contact mission. As such, by regulations he was to limit
contact with these people. No one who knew him could call him a
stickler for regulation and protocol. If he was to value his
reputation for anything, it was his open mind and 'play by play'
approach to things. Which was just another way of saying 'there were
times when following the rules for that selfsame reason, just doesn't
work out'. There was a lingering doubt whether to engage in
conversation or contact with anyone from this world. By this time
they had come to the market place. The first thing he noticed was
that the man he was following seemed very intent on something or
someone, as though he really didn't want to be seen, but wasn't
exactly hiding. Then he realized he himself had been pretty much wide
open ever since he woke up. He followed the man into a corner of the
market, away from most people.
A
few seconds later the man turned to face him squarely. The Captain
knew his universal translator would function here. This man would
hear a colloquial, contemporary and accurate rendition of his words.
He wasn't sure how he could convince the man of the sincerity of
anything he said.
“I
didn't mean to be rude.” The captain stated firmly. “I've been
following you for sometime and I probably felt like a shifty
character. I assure you the truth is precisely the opposite.”
“Why
am I so interesting to you?” The other man intoned gently.
“Well...You
are not, not you personally. I am a stranger here. I overheard the
end of the conversation at the water trough. I don't really know
where I am and I suspected that if I was to learn about this place,
I'd stand to learn more by following and listening to you.”
“You
are such a stranger as to not know the name of this city?” Came the
immediate reply.
“Well,
also that other man sounded French, I think I would learn more things
worth knowing and worth remembering if I talked with you. I'm not
lying or putting on airs. I'm an explorer in the truest sense.”
Picard paused a moment to consider the possible ramifications of his
next question, while the face of the other man grew sere and cold.
“And you're right, I don't know where I am.”
“This
is the city of peace...Jerusalem.” The other man told him placidly.
“I
think I need to find a place to sit down.” Picard answered shakily.
The
Arab looked at Picard with measuring eyes. “There's an inn not far
from here, if you would like we can go there and discover for
ourselves the truth of anything we say.”
“I
think that sounds like a wonderful idea. But why did your face just
cloud over?”
“If
you mean in puzzlement and confusion, I'm wondering how a Frenchman
found their way to Jerusalem and yet did not see that he was there.
Also you present every sensation of someone trapped in a difficult
situation both yearning and forbidden to speak.”
“I
can answer the first part right now.” Picard stated simply. “I
woke up not far at all from this city, but I can't really remember
how I came to be here. You are just as perceptive and accurate with
the last. It's just harder to explain.” Picard winced as the past
hour caught up to him. “I don't know your name.”
“Call
me Nasir.” The other man said almost at once. “And you?”
“Leaving
my rank completely out of this, call me either Picard or Jean-Luc.
Whichever you are more comfortable with.” The captain proceeded to
mentally kick himself for his carelessness. 'Rank' in this time-frame
and setting was almost never in military application. It was a level
of nobility and status or lack thereof. And asking his new guide to
leave his rank aside was essentially calling himself a noble who
didn't want anything to do with his family. There wasn't much time to
correct this mistake however because the native was now stepping in
very close to him, obviously intent on something quite serious.
“My
true name is Imad-Al-Din. I ask you to call me 'Nasir' for now.”
“Alright
Nasir, I am in your hands.” A look of complete shock washed over
the Prince's face. “Forgive me. I mean it's up to you where we go
and what we talk about. Not that I as yet owe you a debt.”
“I
see.” The other man intoned gently. “Well not entirely. But I
hope to learn more of this in time.”
Alright,
maybe the translator doesn't
work that well here.' Picard
thought to himself.
The
walk to the inn would have been quite short had it not been just
about supper time. As it was they had to stop every few minutes and
let someone pass. Nasir, as we must call him, pointed various
monuments and thorough streets out to the Captain. And when the
Captain asked specifically where they were going, the response was
'three more streets up and one to our left'. Nasir's face blatantly
displayed his confusion at the question. The Captain said it was just
in case they got separated, and that right along with knowledge of
where everything else is, he'd know where to go to find help. Nasir
simply nodded. It made sense to him. When they made it to the inn,
Nasir promptly sat down in the corner of the hall closest to a window
but farthest from the door, at a really narrow table between two long
benches. The Captain joined a moment later.
“There
is no distance or formality to be kept?” Picard pondered aloud,
standing at the foot of the table.
“You
honestly do not know where we are do you?” Nasir replied in a
bemused tone. At the small shake of Picard's head the man continued.
“Baldwin the Fourth keeps Jerusalem as a place of prayer for all
faiths. Go much outside these walls and one religion or the other
would be dominant. Here, most people ignore the division, except when
it comes to food...join me for some bread and chicken?”
Picard
moved to sit at the bench as he would at a restaurant in France. Or
just on the ship. Nasir's face barely twitched. Then Jean-Luc saw why
it was such a low-set, long table with equally long benches. He drew
himself down on his left side with his head facing the table.
“Most
of the time there would be no problem.” Nasir offered gently. “The
table moves and the seats are spaced so it can be either one..”
Picard raised his hand. Nasir quieted.
“I
can see what's physically in front of me.” The Captain explained.
“I knew the choice. I just didn't see what was wrong with my
original decision.”
“The
people here know me. I can trust them not to say anything or to make
a ceremony of it all. But they are traditionalist and narrow minded
in some ways. If they saw me concede to you instead of the other way
around, they'd think either you were greater nobility, which they do
not consider a good thing, or that I was rejecting my family all
together.”
“That
sounds like a privilege versus responsibility issue.” Picard mused
aloud.
“Exactly
that.” The other man answered firmly. “Why do you have a
decidedly uncomfortable look?”
“I
have two questions for you. One will make me look like an idiot and
the other is intrusive.”
“Ask
the intrusive one first.” Nasir replied with a soft smile.
“Who
was that other man I saw you with?” Nasir laughed aloud. “Did I
say something funny?”
“If
that is an intrusive question, your people must me far more polite
and withdrawn than what the native French are like.” Nasir told him
in a calm voice, but still smiling. “Native to this
region I mean. To answer your question I will need to do some
explaining first.” Picard simply nodded and the lord continued.
“One of my closest servants and I took on each-others positions for
a while. It was a mutual choice and one which ended in his death.
What happened was we saw that man near the sea and one of us, you can
guess which one, decided to challenge that 'scraggly peasant' for his
horse. After a few parries, with Mummad al Fais on horseback and this
stranger on foot, the man declared himself as the new baron of
Ibelin. It became very much a fair fight after that...One my servant
lost.”
“I
saw the look on your face when he sent you on your way in peace.”
Picard stated plainly. “Why would you be so surprised at that
reaction if your peoples are at peace with each-other?”
“Because
as he saw me at the time, I was either his prisoner or his slave by
law. By either of our laws, he could claim me as either one...A prize
of battle. I still do not know if he is the son of Godfrey. He is
worthy to be called a lord. I hope and pray a chance will come for me
to show him the same consideration.”
“Why
would he become your new master?” Picard persisted. “...He still
doesn't know you are a lord.”
“Yes.
To be completely honest, if this man is Godfrey's son for sure. That
is if he inherited the
title of the baron of Ibelin, I'd have revealed myself at once and
suggested he and I travel these streets together.”
Captain
Picard smiled broadly.“Perhaps I'm being a little foolish or
ignorant in this but...what got in the way of that?” For a few
seconds Nasir stared, apparently expecting the answer to come to his
mind on its own. Which it did a moment later. “He might have taken
the title rather than been given it. And that would make things
difficult.”
“To
say the least. Godfrey was a great warrior in his own right. But more
importantly he was fair minded and even handed. Without prejudice and
without anger. At least, without anger towards US. If this man took
such a voice of reason away from this city, I would be more inclined
to challenge him to a fight to the death...and not hold back.”
“I
don't think you'll have to worry about that.” A vaguely feminine
voice said from behind Picard's booth. “I would take a safe guess
that he
is
Godfrey's son. And from what you've said, he doesn't care about the
custom of position. That tradition seems to endure.”
'Captain I know you can hear me. I am a stranger in this world but I
know more about it than a stranger would. Since you have established
yourself as a stranger to this city, presumably from France, don't be
too familiar with my face when you do see me face to face. And he is
speaking French because he thinks you are French. Which means there
is no such thing as being lost in translation...so don't use that
excuse when your interpreter dies.'
“I
noticed that about him when he didn't keep me as a servant, slave or
anything else.” Nasir stated coolly. “And I am glad to hear that
he is rightly his father's son. But how do you know that Hannah?”
“Almaric
and his men were told to look out for a man coming to Jerusalem, who
hopefully would not come alone but if he did he would be thoroughly
lost. And that this man was Godfrey's bastard son. Who with any luck
would have received his father's title and rank before coming here.
From what I could not help over hearing from the next booth, it
sounds like his did...receive that title I mean.” Picard and Imad
saw a pale skinned, auburn haired young woman walk up to the edge of
the table, in front of and between both men.
'Grace
if you can hear me, you seem to have a lot of names. Cross paths with
me once I part with this man, alright?' Picard's mental message
was easily received by his old friend. Who dropped her head as if
deep in thought, as an affirmative answer to the Captain's question.
“Hannah,
what is wrong?' Nasir inquired gently.
“Nothing
is wrong.” The young woman replied. “It's just I think I should
go see if and where this new lord will meet with his father's people.
But I sincerely hope to cross paths with this gentleman again.” She
added, putting her hand on Picard's shoulder. The Captain barely
raised an eyebrow. “He feels familiar to me.” She walked away
with a slight bow and a quiet smile.
Nasir sat
up and leaned forward staring at Picard with hard eyes. The captain
raised himself returned the gaze.
“You
cannot tell me that does not make you uncomfortable!” Nasir told
Jean-Luc in a cold whisper.
“Being
greeted as though by an old friend?” The captain replied in a
strange, somewhat placid tone.
“You
only arrived today by your words and Hannah has been here for many
weeks. Also she didn't really seem to know you, except that she
seemed to trust you.”
“And
that part doesn't make you unsure and concerned?” The Captain shot
back.
At which
point Picard's host leaded back slightly. When he spoke again it was
in a slightly softer, but still perfectly firm voice.“I am on
familiar terms with her at all because she seemed to think me worth
trusting …the very first time I met her. I guess it's your
reaction and not hers that worries me.”
“The
feeling is mutual.” Picard muttered. “I seem worth trusting, as
you said, and so does she.”
“That
makes sense I suppose.” Nasir admitted gently.
“I
should ask you something, but I don't want to feel like an idiot.”
Picard began slowly.
“You
said that before Sir. And your question was very reasonable.” Nasir
pointed out.
“Do the
Merchants and innkeepers here accept Foreign coin?”
“I
concede it, that is quite an obvious question. I doubt you could've
grown up in France as you claim.”
“To my
knowledge I have never made that claim.” Picard answered him
firmly. “And do I correctly assume the answer is in the
affirmative?”
“We have
a French King.” Was the almost instantaneous reply. There was a
look of shock on the Captain's face that the Prince must not have
liked or understood too well. He once again leaned in with an intent
expression, this time accompanied by piercing eyes. “Sir, where ARE
you from?”
Picard
heard the familiar sound of the transporter and felt something new in
his trouser pockets on either side. As the left side of his khakis
suddenly felt slightly heavier, and given the turn of the
conversation, he could guess what was now in each. Accordingly he
took a piece of thick parchment out of the pocket at his right hip
and handed it to Nasir. Who, after reading it through a couple of
times, blushed in embarrassment.
“It says
here you are a ship's Captain without papers beyond this this one.
And that you rarely stay anywhere long enough to acquire native
coins.” He set the paper down “I can infer from this, you have
been injured in a ship wreck, hitting your head or something and just
don't remember these things. It's not that you never knew them.”
“I think
that must be it.” Picard answered coarsely.
“I can
infer also this explains your confusion about this city and its
people.” Imad continued placidly.
“Well, I
don't know if I was headed here specifically or not. I can now say
with certainty that I've heard conflicting reports of the Holy City
and I wanted to see for myself what it was really like.”
“Sir, it
seems to me that statement is inherently contrary.”
“I'm
wondering why I woke up without any of my crew around. Unless
something drastic happened, I'm not permitted to leave the ship
unaccompanied. This I remember clearly.”
“Perdon
moi Monsieur?” Picard heard the prince said plainly. That's
what Grace meant about my translator failing. It couldn't have picked
a better time to. Picard thought to himself. Then he realized of
course this was deliberate. Whether from her powers or Commandar
Data's technical interference he did not know. “I used my captain's
rank to come ashore near here on my own. I need to tell my friends
I'm alright.”
“Well,
that's easily enough addressed.” The man stated in what Picard once
again heard as English. He wondered if the man was again speaking
French. More to the point was he himself being heard in French? It
would certainly answer the man's assumption as to his origins. The
question became, what could be risked or gained in trying to put the
man at ease.
“Sajiq,
I should...Well for one thing may I call you that?” The Captain
intoned gently. The other man nodded firmly. “In that case may I
suggest you speak as comfortably and plainly as though you were
speaking to a native? I mean, without forced calm or formal
intonations?”
“Sajiq,”
Imad began crisply. “This is how I speak to natives. Asking me to
speak casually is asking me to speak as to a 'lesser' stranger.
Although I do accept that it is easier for me to speak in Arabic, I
am not put off or strained to speak French. I see a paler skinned
person here and that is honestly my first reaction.” Picard gave a
confused look. “...To speak in French.”
“You are
saying my statement and request is again contrary? And that French
is...You have a French king. Being nobility as you are, speaking
French is of course a talent that is fairly common around here.”
“Sir...where
are you from?” Nasir asked, quite unable to contain his
curiosity any longer.
“Across
a much farther sea than France.” The Captain answered at once. “And
I really wish I could find some other way to say this but it is
getting very late. I should find the proprietor of this inn, hand her
what French coins I have and see if I can spend the night.”
At this
declaration the Saracen's face clouded over and he became visibly
distressed. When Picard asked him about it, there was a considerable
pause. “Now that I know why you come across as such a strange
foreigner,” He began, folding his hands in front of him, almost
like a Christian in a prayer. “I was going to invite you to my
residence up higher in this city. First, I should finish the
explanation I began. Baldwin the fourth, and long may he reign, keeps
this city as a place of prayer for all faiths. Islam and Christianity
are respected by the other side...at least by most people on the
other side. And as I said, my true name is Imad-Al-Din. Infer from
that what you will.”
“I
wondered if you were from a higher family, and just didn't want to
make me uncomfortable.” Picard admitted. “I take it that's a
confirmation of my supposition?” The other man nodded and grinned.
“Well, as long as your manners are sincere and your beliefs value
peace I guess...we're alright.”
“I
thank you sir, but I must ask you this: Why bother to speak French at
all?”
“It's
the most 'local' of the languages I know.” Picard answered simply,
and barely truthfully.
“In that
case I have one final question for you before I invite you up to my
house. That is, to a place I keep in the northern quarter of this
city.” Imad stated in a plain and simple tone.
“Then
please ask it.” Picard replied easily.
“When I
said Hannah seems familiar with you, I did not mean 'on familiar
terms'. I meant she seemed to know you personally. Why do you think
that is?”
Picard
smiled as a phrase came to his mind, which he guessed could serve as
an answer to his question. “She must learn pretty fast whether
people can be trusted and have strong faith in whatever sense she
has. And If I may make a supposition, was it not the same when you
met her?”
“Captain
you are very perceptive. And yes, she told me she must trust whatever
power gives her the ability to sense the honesty and goodness, or
lack thereof, in a person's heart. We should go.”
And that
was that. No other confirmation was needed. When they came to the
rather austere rooms that Imad kept in Jerusalem however, something
seemed to be wearing them both down. Imad could sense a secret weight
in the Captain's heart. And the Captain could not shake the feeling
that he was practically lying to his most gracious host.
“Imad, I
hope you'll understand that I count myself a lodger not a guest. If
there is a distinction to be made as far as hospitality, please make
it. I don't want you to treat me well because I'm so much of a
stranger. I can't help thinking you are either more curious or more
suspicious of me than you let on.”
“I just
wonder what you are so reluctant to share with me. And you are
certainly not a paying lodger, but I'll try to leave you alone as
much as possible if that is your wish.”
“I thank
you. I cannot choose but wonder if you can sense anything about
me...the way Grace did.”
For a split
second Picard looked worried. Hannah and Grace were the same person,
but Imad wouldn't have known the girl's other persona. And he did not
want to invite questions about their mutual friend. But Imad didn't
seem to notice or care about the discrepancy in the name.
“Hannah
trusted you. That much was obvious. From what I can sense, you are
not the most open individual I could meet...but you are honest.
The silence you keep does not suit you well, but at least you are
not a liar. Which is all I care about really. If whatever you DO tell
me while you're here is the truth as you see it, then we are...I
cannot think of the word.”
“I can
assure you, it will be...and has been. I think you mean 'on good
terms' or on even footing.”
“Well,
why the newly troubled look on your face then?”
“A
lingering curiosity about Hannah, or Grace as I call her. I
think I should tell you, French isn't even my native language. I have
something in my pocket that translates my words. In fact the way it
normally functions you'd be hearing my words in Arabic. I guess
someone is trying their hardest to make sure I don't look like a
false-friend or an idiot.”
“Someone
on your ship do you mean? Or do you refer to Hannah herself?”
Picard stared at his host, who promptly smiled broadly at him. “I
am quite familiar with the pains she sometimes takes to make
sure everyone 'gets along fine'. I just wouldn't usually be believed
if I tried to tell anyone about it.”
“I feel
the same, both as far as my regard for her and her reluctance to
stand out. I didn't want to have to keep silent for her sake. I just
saw no other course. I'm glad to meet someone who accepts her
oddities, as part of who she is and not part of a mystery to be
solved. I will assume she is more responsible for the peace of our
meeting than any one or anything else?”
“Not
directly no.” Imad answered slowly. “She saw these same qualities
in me that I see in you. That is, a willingness to accept other
points of view and to realize and admit when your own perceptions are
proven baseless. You and I both have a quiet strength about us, and a
certain...ability to be at peace no matter what the circumstance. But
she did not teach me these qualities if that is what you mean.
She and I are friends because she saw me as just such an individual.”
“I
really meant...can you accept me so readily because you've
already accepted her.”
“We are
stars in the ashes, the three of us...an expression she uses to mean
we have rare quality and perception. We see and judge with our own
eyes without thought to what other people would tell us or what we
have been taught. I imagine it makes it easy to see such qualities in
others when we meet them.”
“Then
there are no more secrets to be kept.” Captain Jean-Luc Picard
stated happily.
“I have
to admit curiosity for what your world, your land is like. But I'll
hold my tongue on it.”
“You are
right. That would be a big secret.” Picard admitted slowly. A
moment later he offered his hand to Imad. “If there's ever a way I
can thank you for your open honesty and gentle philosophy, preferably
without breaking my own rules and regulations, let me know.”
“Settle
yourself without my help and if possible help me find Balian. I'll
let everyone know you are my guest not a lodger, believe me the
distinction will help. With random factors operating in our favor, my
days will continue as uninterrupted as can be. Except for thoroughly
open eyes and mind.”
Picard's
face clouded over. “Sir, I don't mind if you speak to me as a
native or an inferior. That's what I meant before...I was asking you
to drop the high speech and forced formal tones. Please speak
naturally to me.”
“And I
say that's an insult to both of us.” Imad answered at once.
“Imad,
what did Grace tell you about me, if anything?” Picard
asked in a dry tone.
“That
you're basically from another world who's hearts had caught up with
your heads. And I take it your visit is already coming to a close?”
“My
visit to this city continues. I'll have a few more days to explore. I
can't stay with you to do that. I
want to see this city through the eyes of a true traveler, not a
guest or through only one set of eyes."
“I
hope someday I'll come to understand exactly why. Till then, I'll
respect you decision...Except I'll ask one favor of you first.
Explain why it would break your ships regulations to answer a thing I
might have asked you before? Or failing that...” Picard gave a 'go
ahead' look with his eyes. “How do you plan on confirming with your
ship's company that you are alright? I concede it was a thing I
barely touched on but it might be needful in the end.”
“I
don't know how to let them know I'm alright without the help of
something in my vest pocket.”
“A
communications device?” Imad asked pleasantly. Picard looked
askance. “You mentioned it before sir. Please, you are safe here.
Unless you have a problem with me personally knowing things, it is
alright.”
In
reply Picard drew his combadge out of his vest pocket and tapped it
twice. “Yes captain?” A soft but strong voice came from out of
nowhere.
“Will,
this place would amaze either you or Data. Officially I'm just
letting you all know I'm alright.”
“And
unofficially?” Will stated, obviously pleased.
“I'm
letting my host know he IS right.” Picard could almost feel the
confusion on the other side of the conversation. “I'll be fine
Number One. And I mean as far as my host and our own superiors. I'll
work out 'what to do next' in a few minutes and let you know. Picard
out.” The Captain tucked the combadge back into his vest and stared
Imad squarely in the face.
“I
take it that was not...according to the rules?” Imad stated easily.
“Correct
sir.” Picard answered calmly.
“In
which case, I thank you for your trust in me.” Imad offered.
“You
would have figured it out from what I'd already said. The proverbial
damage had been done. At least this way I don't have a...I don't look
dishonest or ungrateful. I have exactly two questions for you.”
“Then
please ask them.” Imad prompted just as coolly.
“How
did you know?”
Picard's
question was met with a troubled look and a soft smile. “Captain,
you are not exclusively responsible for this. But I assessed you must
have something that was translating my words for you and yours for
me. A thought you confirmed for me earlier and I thank you. The only
way I can think for any sane first officer to let the captain come
ashore on their own would be if they could keep in contact pretty
easily. It was logic.”
“Alright
I'll forestall my second question to ask who else could have let you
know about this.”
“Hannah,
or Grace as you call her. The names mean the same thing in our
languages. She told me of explorers who on their journeys are
'obligated to speak and compelled to keep quiet'. I'm not sure I
believe the ship on a sea of stars part of her story, but you seem to
be exactly who and what she was describing.”
“I
suppose that works.” Picard admitted gently. “There's one thing
I've been wondering about. How much do you know about us from Grace?”
Imad looked mystified. “About my crew as a group, I mean. Now that
you know I'm not from across a sea...What do you know about the
people who comprise my senior staff?”
Imad
visibly relaxed. “If I can trust what she's told me to be literally
true: there's an individual on your ship who always sells himself
short on his own abilities, yet could be seen as superior by most
accounts. It's like being different makes him less than normal rather
than superior. I know you have a cardinal rule of non-interference
which is why, I take it, you have guarded your words so carefully.
She says you personally have... this is exceedingly difficult...”
He paused to collect his thoughts and his courage. “You have the
heart of an explorer and the soul of a poet.” Imad paused as a look
of both sorrow and peace came over Picard's face. “You are not a
military organization, your fleet or your crew. But you know
how to fight if it comes to it.”
“Thank
you. That was the missing element.” Picard stated both warmly and
softly. He tapped the combadge again. “Will, are you still there?”
“Affirmative
Captain.” The strong, pleasant voice came again.
“Could
you beam Data down here, without disguise or delay? We'll beam up
again momentarily.”
About
a minute later Imad saw a beam of light about 10 feet to his right
and when the light had faded there was a man in front of him. This
individual had pale, almost yellow skin and short, shiny brown hair,
which was combed straight back. He was almost Picard's height and
showed a soft visage. Imad got the feeling this man would not be
easily angered.
“Captain,
what is the trouble?” The individual, whom Imad realized was Data
inquired in a soft tone.
“No
trouble Data.” Picard answered easily. “I am simply trying to
confirm what Grace has told my new friend. I hope I didn't break the
prime directive by answering his questions. What I said to confirm
his suspicions, may or may not qualify. But he was making some pretty
informed assertions. And not all of the blame would fall on me
anyway.”
“I
am afraid I do not understand.” Data admitted softly.
Imad
looked at his newest guest. Suddenly a broad smile shown through his
previously solemn features. “Your friend Grace calls herself
'Hannah' here. As both words mean 'the unmerited favor of God', it
makes sense to me. In the short time she and I have known each-other,
she has told me many stories of your crew and your adventures. But
she told them as though they were science-based fiction, or tales
written for the sake of their moral and inspirational merits. I'm the
only one, I hope, to ever suspect they were more than that.” His
gaze shifted to Picard. “You can understand now, why I believe that
our meeting just inside the walls of this city was anything but an
accident.”
“I
understand.” Picard answered. “Our people don't believe in any
particular god, but Grace taught us there is such a thing as fate.
Except, if she did contrive this meeting, what would she hope to gain
from it?”
Imad
shifted uncomfortably. “Forgive me but any speculation of her
motives would be exactly that. It seems we both have the ability to
ask her to her face. We should try that first. I'm just glad to see
with my own eyes there are others out there willing to see past
preconceived notions, instilled prejudice.” Picard looked both
confused and scared. Imad quickly noticed this and smiled broadly.
“That you would even consider breaking your cardinal rule of
non-interference, which again I already knew about, for the sake of
my peace of mind, tells me as much. You have an open mind and heart.
But I do have a question for Data, if I may?”
“Then
please ask me.” The android replied at once.
“Hannah
has only told me bits and pieces of your adventures. And most of what
she does say focuses on you sir. I guess it's more of a statement.
Stop trying to be 'as human as possible'. Being flesh and blood is
impossible. Being human
is a matter of intelligence, consideration and morality. As long as
you have a conscience, and remain curious about the universe, you are
as human as any of us.”
