By the Book (7 page)

Fazi protocol was similar to protocol in old Earth aristocracies. The leader, contrary to his name, never went first. The junior ranking officials led the way, probably in case of danger. Archer smiled. As if danger bothered him.

As the junior member of the team, Mayweather climbed out first and stepped to one side, his heels shushing on the bricks. It was amazingly quiet here. No bird noises or animal sounds. No insect buzzes or traffic noise.

Archer found the silence unnerving.

Hoshi went out next and stepped to the other side.

Then Reed, then Trip, and finally Archer.

As Hoshi had instructed them to do, Archer got out and, without a look or a word to the others, started across the courtyard. Finally he got to lead.

The capitol building's shape was similar to all the other buildings they'd seen from the air. Only this building was larger. From the air, the buildings had looked white, but on closer inspection, he realized that they were a reddish white, almost a pale pink.

Two-story square columns held up a balcony that lined the third floor. The columns were made of the same brick as the walkway. The bricks were amazingly uniform. Archer had seen old brick on Earth, and knew that the bricks crumbled or were sometimes molded to slightly different shapes. But not here. Each brick was the same size and there was no sign of crumbling.

There was also no sign of life.

Were all the Fazi in hiding or did they not believe in guards? He felt disconcerted. Somehow he had expected a more formal greeting upon their arrival.

Trip fell in to his right, a step behind, showing his rank of second-in-command.

Reed was next, on Archer's left, a step behind Trip.

Hoshi and Mayweather were another step behind Reed on either side, staying even with each other.

Archer could feel that they were being watched from a thousand different places in the buildings that surrounded the plaza, yet there wasn't a Fazi in sight. It would have been much more natural, in a public plaza of this size, to have crowds around. This way he felt exposed and vulnerable.

Both T'Pol and Hoshi had assured him there was no need to take weapons. They both were convinced there was no chance the Fazi would turn violent. Hoshi had even said that the chaos of war or violence could never be allowed in a culture this structured. Maybe that was why it had developed this way. Personally, he'd take the chance of war in exchange for personal freedom, music, and art.

When he reached the square columns, the wide doors to the council chambers opened. The Fazi had said the doors would open at a specific time. Apparently, the Enterprise team was right on schedule. Archer never broke stride, moving inside as if he had been here a dozen times before.

The great room was as light as the outdoors had been. He had expected a momentary adjustment, going from the bright sunlight to the dim interior, but the Fazi seemed to calibrate their interior light to match their sun's rays. How typical. The light came from the ceiling. Archer glanced up without moving his head, and noted that there were no obvious lighting fixtures. The light coming through a thousand different holes was diffuse and powerful at the same time.

Archer continued walking with purpose, following the instructions he'd been given. He walked straight ahead, into a large chamber, where a dozen Fazi sat in a half circle, each the exact distance from the next.

In this room, the jasmine smell was stronger. Small burners placed on pedestals sent a thin column of smoke into the air. Even with the smoke, the light in here was as strong as it had been everywhere else. There were no shadows in this place, no way for something or someone to hide. Even the smallest expression would be visible.

Up close, the Fazi did not surprise him. Archer had already seen images of them provided by Hoshi and T'Pol. The Fazi were humanoid, like most of the aliens Archer was familiar with. In fact, he would have mistaken them for human if he had seen them first on Earth.

There were only a few differences. All of the Fazi facing him had coarse white hair and sideburns. They were also shorter than humans. The tallest Fazi never exceeded five feet six inches tall.

He probably looked like a giant to them.

The Fazi did not acknowledge him. If they were surprised at his appearance or the appearance of his crew, they gave no sign. They simply watched as Archer found the spot on the floor that Hoshi had told him to go to.

The polished stone floor was painted in half circles, shrinking smaller and smaller to a dot away from the council bench. Archer stopped exactly on the center spot of the large room.

Behind him his people stopped at the exact same moment, as if they had practiced the move. Then they all bowed as he remained standing straight. So far so good.

Directly in front of him, one of the Fazi councilmen stood. "I am Councilman Draa."

The Fazi spoke in his own language. The translator held by Hoshi translated his words.

The councilman did not even break sentence at the words coming from the translator. "I represent the Fazi High Council and the Fazi people."

"I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise. I represent the people of the planet Earth."

Archer waited now for the Fazi Draa to speak. Hoshi warned him a number of times to only speak in the same length of sentences and on the same topics as the councilman addressed. But what those topics might be, Hoshi had had no idea.

"This is an historic day," Councilman Draa said, "for the Fazi people."

"It is also an historic day for the people of Earth," Archer said. He felt constrained by this structure. He wanted to talk with them, not parrot their words.

But he didn't want to scare them either. Maybe, over time, they'd get used to human impulsiveness.

After Archer spoke, Councilman Draa sat down.

The silence in the large council chamber seemed to grow with every second. Archer had no idea what he was supposed to do next. And he didn't dare turn around and ask Hoshi's opinion. So he simply stood there, facing the council, keeping his head up and his body still.

All of the Fazi councilmen stared at him.

The seconds ticked past.

The silence in the chamber unnerved him more than the silence outside had. He couldn't even hear the sound of anyone else breathing. Did this place somehow muffle noise? He could hear his own ragged breath, and he suspected everyone else could hear his pounding heart.

Why didn't anyone speak?

Weren't they curious?

Didn't they want to know about the aliens in front of them?

Didn't they want to know about Earth or the starship?

Why didn't they ask what he was doing here?

Maybe their lack of curiosity explained their lack of art, music, and identifiable culture. Maybe it even explained the lack of evidence of war.

He wanted to pace. It took all of his strength to remain still. He hadn't realized what a restless person he was until he was faced with these precise, immobile beings, who seemed so content with silence and inaction.

The Fazi weren't even looking at him. At least not directly. They seemed to be staring beyond his team at the open doors. The jasmine-scented smoke continued to rise, but it was the only thing that moved in the entire room.

For some reason he had expected more. He had never expected silence, and neither had Hoshi or T'Pol, or they would have warned him.

Did he dare speak?

Did he dare turn and walk away?

Which would be the worst sin? He had no idea, and now he understood why both T'Pol and Hoshi wanted him to study these people more. These were very weird folk.

Archer stood there staring straight ahead. The Fazi council sat staring back, their dark eyes and light faces framed by their white hair and sideburns. It was as if a dozen short statues were staring at him. Didn't they even blink?

Archer could feel a drop of sweat starting to ease down the side of his forehead. The old saying about never letting them see you sweat popped into his mind, but he didn't dare move to brush away the drop.

Seconds more ticked past, becoming an eternity.

Maybe they were now waiting for him to say something, to explain why they were there, the reason for this visit. He was the one, after all, who had said he was coming here, and when.

Every moment seemed to stretch.

This was agony. He knew he had to do something and do it quickly. Either speak or turn away.

Turning away would accomplish nothing as far as he was concerned. He was here to make contact with this race, to possibly form a future alliance. And that wasn't going to be done by walking away.

He took a shallow breath, gathered himself and broke the silence. "Councilman Draa, High Council of the Fazi people, the people of Earth have-"

Wrong choice.

As if pulled by the same string, all the councilmen rose, turned their backs on Archer, and disappeared into doors behind their chairs before the last word he had spoken died into the high ceiling.

"Nice meeting you," Archer said as the doors behind every chair clicked shut.

He turned around. Hoshi's face was as white as a sheet and Trip was doing everything in his power to hold back a grin. Reed and Mayweather both looked stunned.

"I think that went well," Archer said, heading between them and toward the big door leading back to the shuttlepod.

Trip snorted.

Reed made a choking sound.

Archer doubted Hoshi was breathing.

Outside he headed across the open and very empty plaza, his people in the same formation behind him. The sun was warm on his face, the breeze light and gentle, and the air felt wonderful.

"Nice day for a walk," he said, just loud enough for Trip to hear beside him.

"I wonder what they'd do," Trip said, his voice just loud enough for Archer to understand, "if we went for a stroll around the plaza, looking at the architecture."

"I think I've already done enough damage," Archer said.

"Yeah," Trip said, clearly barely containing his laughter. "But it was a great speech."

Except for a few low-key jokes, no one said much as they came back through the decontamination process and headed for the bridge. There, T'Pol looked up from the navigation table when they entered. She had an expression of disapproval on her face. Archer had expected it. He just hadn't expected to agree with her.

He had purposely not brought her to the meeting with the Fazi. He had wanted this to be an Earth-based first contact, not a Vulcan one. But she had watched everything through the vid-cam recordings of the proceedings, just like they had agreed.

Apparently she now thought even less of him than she had before.

He squared his shoulders and passed between the railings, down the single step to his captain's chair. He didn't sit, however. The restlessness he had felt on the planet had grown.

Meeting another species should have been easy. After a few nods to cultural differences, the goals should have been the same. Hello. How are you. I'll tell you about my culture if you tell me about yours. Simple as that. A few questions, a few answers, and then the discussion would be under way.

Or not.

He'd read about the first contact between the Vulcans and the humans. Even factoring in the Vulcans' native reserve, the first contact had gone like that. Some superficial discussion, a mild disagreement about music and food, and then some give-and-take. The give-and-take ended pretty early in the proceedings, of course, since the Vulcans believed that an inferior race shouldn't share their knowledge, but in the beginning it must have been glorious.

Inferior race. Well, he'd helped with that stereo-type again, hadn't he?

Archer put a hand on the cool leather back of his chair and watched the rest of his team rejoin the bridge. Everyone seemed subdued and no one met T'Pol's cool gaze. They all felt the mission had failed, just as he did. So, he supposed, it was time to get those feelings into the open.

"Someone want to explain to me what happened down there?" Archer asked.

"You insulted the Fazi High Council," T'Pol said. Of course she spoke first. She hadn't even been down there and she was offering her opinion. She hadn't heard that awful silence or smelled that strange jasmine. Even though the air on Enterprise was bottled, Archer was happy to breathe it again. In some ways, it felt like home, a concept he doubted T'Pol understood.

"Yeah," Archer said. "I got that much. Kinda hard to miss when a group of aliens turns their backs to you."

He hadn't meant the sarcasm to be so pronounced, but he had to keep control of this discussion. These were his people. He could communicate with them.

He hoped.

"What I'm trying to figure out," he said, "is exactly what I did to insult them."

"You spoke out of turn," Hoshi said. She had folded one hand over the other and was watching him from her station. The tension he had noted on the planet was gone; apparently, she had expected the worst and it had happened.

Archer felt a surge of anger and he suppressed it. He wasn't angry at his crew. He was angry at his own impatience. They had warned him to wait, and he hadn't. His actions had blown this first contact, not theirs, and they didn't deserve to be punished for his mistake.

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked. "No one said anything else, so I couldn't respond. And it would have been rude to turn around and walk away."

"In our culture, yes," Hoshi said. "In theirs, leaving would have been better."

T'Pol nodded slightly.

"Why?" The frustration in his voice was clear, even to his own ears.

"The meeting was over," Hoshi said.

"Not for me it wasn't," Archer said. "There was a great deal I wanted to talk about."

"Apparently, they didn't want to talk," Hoshi said. "They probably lack a protocol for dealing with outsiders. They greeted you, then expected you to leave."

"Without asking any questions? Without learning about us?"

"How does a society that structured learn?" Reed asked. The question might have been rhetorical.

Archer frowned at him.