As he approached, Archer could hear the gist of the argument. “Racist!” Baur was crying. “You just can’t stand letting more nonhumans into the Federation. You’re no better than Terra Prime or those fanatics on Alrond!”
“How dare you?” Kamenev shouted back.
“Just like a Federalist to demonize the opposition,” chimed in Ysanne Fell, the prim and shrill-voiced Centaurian ambassador. “Can you blame the Lechebists for their fear of cultural assimilation? Hopefully the Rigelians won’t be fooled into surrendering their autonomy to the state.”
“Yes, cultural assimilation is exactly the issue,” Kamenev insisted. “Our worlds will lose their uniqueness if too many are blended together in one homogeneous mass.”
“Yet you don’t seem to object to letting Vega Colony join!” the Tellarite riposted.
“Because they deserve to stand on a level playing field, not as a dependency of Earth! I feel the same about any colony world, such as Alrond or Iota Pegasi.”
“Oh, really? And would you flirt with their representatives the way you have with that girl from Vega?”
“You leave Tamara out of this!”
Sensing that words were about to give way to blows, Archer moved forward—but before he could interpose himself between the two large men, he saw that someone else already had. A rather small someone else, in fact: a Vulcan woman several centimeters shorter than T’Pol. Yet her stance made it clear that she was not to be moved from where she stood. She held each ambassador’s gaze coolly and firmly for several seconds, and each man in turn stood down. “Gentlemen,” she said in a soft, serene voice that contrasted with the coiled-spring poise of her body. “I submit that the conference table is a more appropriate venue for policy debates. Perhaps you will grasp each other’s positions more clearly without the influence of distracting libations.”
Deciding to back up her peacekeeping effort, Archer stepped closer. “Is there a problem here?”
The ambassadors proffered various mumblings about the absence of problems and returned to the havens of their respective factions, which seemed equally matched, with three ambassadorial parties in each. He turned to the Vulcan. “Thanks for your help.”
She studied him. “I believe your characterization is inverted. Your assistance is appreciated . . . albeit unnecessary.”
He tilted his head in concession. “Point taken.”
“Both of you deserve thanks.” It was Director Hemnask, coming up alongside Archer once again. “Admiral, would you introduce me?”
Archer studied the Vulcan’s refined features, trying to place her name. “I . . . know you’re with Ambassador Solkar’s delegation, but . . .”
She rescued him from further embarrassment. “T’Rama. Formerly of Administrator T’Pau’s security detail.”
“That would explain it,” Hemnask said. “You are here to protect the ambassador?”
“I retired from security once my husband and I committed to starting a family. The ambassador is my husband’s-father, however, and he required a personal aide when he chose to come out of retirement to participate in this conference.”
“I understand,” Archer said. “He’s . . . had quite a storied career.”
T’Rama gave him a frank look that was not entirely ungrateful. “You mean he is quite elderly. Yes. But he intends the admission of Rigel to the Federation to be the concluding achievement of his career. I intend to help him see it through.” She threw the ambassador a look across the room, a look that Archer would have called affectionate if she weren’t Vulcan. “Our family has produced statespersons and diplomats for generations. Yet Solkar’s only offspring, my husband, Skon, found his calling in mathematics instead.”
Archer snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Skon. I’ve heard of him. I read his English translation of The Teachings of Surak.”
She nodded. “Yes, linguistics is his avocation.”
Hemnask furrowed her brow in puzzlement. “I thought it was Admiral Archer who recovered Surak’s writings only a few years ago.”
“The Kir’Shara, yes. What my husband translated were the Analects—secondhand or reconstructed accounts of Surak’s original teachings.”
“I see. And has Skon undertaken a translation of the Kir’Shara yet?”
“He has plans to do so, as his teaching career permits.”
“I look forward to reading it,” Archer said. “I’ve read the computer translation, but it’s missing something.”
“Indeed. At any rate, Skon’s duties precluded him from assisting Solkar in this concluding achievement to his career, so I undertook the task. I have considered entering the diplomatic field myself, once our child is old enough not to need constant care.”