"Ah, I see the delightful Ms Terran has a question," he said, brimming with Klingon joviality.
"Yes, but it's not a cultural one, I'm afraid. I just want to pick your brains."
"My brains?" he boomed.
"Yes. If you don't mind, that is."
"Well, ask away and we'll see if I mind."
"It's about Elizabeth Buffalo—"
"I can't discuss another student with you," he interrupted.
"I know that but this is a bit different."
His brow furrowed more deeply than I thought his Klingon ridges should allow. I grabbed a chair, pulled it over and sat on it, hoping that Urtok would do likewise, but he didn't. He sank onto his haunches to bring himself to my level, but had no intention of making himself any more comfortable than that.
"Look, we all know that Lizzy is …" I had to think about it, "… unusual."
"Messy," he said.
"Yes, but it's not just that is it?"
He raised an eyebrow quizzically. I sighed deeply.
"Is she scheduled to attend any of your lessons?"
He remained mute.
"Come on, Urtok. That's hardly betraying a confidence, surely?"
His eyes narrowed, but he still said nothing. It's rare to find a Klingon being so diplomatic, but I suppose they have to be when teaching for Starfleet.
"Okay. Let me rephrase the question … As one of the lecturers here, are you privy to the attendance records of students?"
"Of course."
"Then you'll be familiar with Lizzy's."
"You're wasted as a Cultural Advisor. You should join the Obsidian Order."
"I haven't asked my question yet."
"That's the worrying thing," he said with a moue of concern. "So what is the question?"
"Who's daughter is she?"
"What relevance is that?"
"Getting into the Academy isn't easy. The Academy only accepts the cream of the—"
"And you don't think she should be here."
"No. That's not it at all!"
"Then what's your point?"
"Lizzy's made it quite obvious that she doesn't want to be here. I know the Academy know that too. She goes out of her way to try and get herself kicked out—that's why she's so messy. So why hasn't she been expelled?"
"I couldn't tell you."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
Ah! So something was going on.
"So who's daughter is she?" I pressed.
"No one's—I mean no one of any importance."
I got the impression that wasn't quite the truth. I opened my mouth to pose another query, but a hand in my face silenced me.
"No more," he said, and slowly dropped his hand. "I cannot answer your questions."
I heaved a great sigh and picked up my things.
"Okay. Well, thank you anyway," I said, but just before I reached the door, Urtok spoke.
"Terran," he cried. "Do you remember last semester how you and Bairn used the entire Academy as guinea-pigs?"
I frowned as I didn't recall any such incident.
"You dressed Bairn up as a Human and paraded her through the Academy, testing her skills on us all."
"Oh, yes," I agreed guiltily. "I suppose we did use you all a bit, but it wasn't maliciously done. It was all in a very good cause."
"Indeed, but what's it like to be on the receiving end this time around?"
"You what?" I exclaimed, but Urtok simply grinned, picked up his bag and left via the door behind the podium leaving me alone to consider the comment.
So I was a guinea-pig, but in what? It had to be something to do with Lizzy, otherwise Urtok wouldn't have raised it at that point. Was Lizzy conducting an experiment, using me as her test subject? Was she fooling us all in order to complete an exercise of some sort?
No comments:
Post a Comment