STAR TREK: TOS #22 - Shadow Lord

by Laurence Yep

  When Mr. Spock had slipped his blade further behind the top hinge, he nodded to the others. “On the count of three.” He braced one hand behind the sword blade to give it better support. “One ... two ... three.”

  They pried at the hinges, grimacing. The crumbling stone fell in a small shower of particles and pebbles now. “For the love of heaven, hurry,” Bibil urged them.

  The floor behind them was fairly seething with eyes now and, on the very edge of the circle of light cast by the candle, Sulu could see a large six-legged beetle. It was a third of a meter long with legs that were double-jointed. Its body was housed in a thick black carapace topped by two large oval spots glowing on the back—it was the spots which gave the illusion of eyes. Its mandibles swung out in an arc as wide as Sulu’s hand like a big, ugly pair of pincers. The head seemed to be mostly muscle that was designed to close those mandibles and hold on. Its heavy wingcase suddenly flipped up and then snapped back against its carapace with a loud click. It was a loud, ominous sound—like the revolution of a cylinder in an old nineteenth-century six-shooter.

  Sulu gave a shudder. “Once one of those babies bites into you, it doesn’t look like it’s easy to get them to let you go.”

  “One has to hack off the head and then pry the mandibles apart,” Bibil advised.

  Sulu, the prince and Urmi began yanking at the hinges almost frantically, and though Mr. Spock was [95] more controlled, he could be seen to be pulling even harder than before.

  The light suddenly flickered and dipped as Bibil swung the candle in a wide arc. “Hah. Get away,” he shouted.

  Sulu glanced over his shoulder to see that the beetles danced backward, snapping their mandibles with ugly little clicks. Mr. Spock’s blade snapped suddenly and he fell backward.

  “Here.” Bibil pulled out his own sword and tossed it to Mr. Spock. Flinging down the useless hilt of his old sword, Mr. Spock caught the hilt of Bibil’s.

  Hurriedly setting his new blade behind the hinge, Mr. Spock began tugging again.

  “I think it’s giving,” Sulu grimaced.

  “Then pull,” Urmi’s voice said almost shrilly. While she was quite capable of facing any regular foe, she clearly did not relish facing a horde of beetles.

  Sulu tugged until he thought his own sword blade would break. A shower of grit and small lumps of sandstone fell on their feet. The hinge gave grudgingly, resentfully, groaning all the while as it came away from the wall—leaving a spot wide enough for a person to slip through sideways.

  “Forgive the lack of etiquette, Your Highness.” Saying that, Mr. Spock grabbed the prince by his shoulder and unceremoniously shoved him through the gap. He beckoned Sulu and Urmi to follow after the prince.

  More beetles were trying to dart forward. “You next, offworlder.” Bibil backed up by the gate, swinging his candle. The beetles scuttled off again. Spock slipped through the gate. The bars were too widely spaced to stop the beetles, but at least their group was through [96] now. Bibil followed a moment later and thrust the candle into Sulu’s hands. Taking another candle from one of the sacks, he lit it from the first. “Keep going,” he said. They were in a small alcove from which three corridors led.

  “Which way?” Sulu asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine now. But any way that leads upward would probably suit us.” He held out his hand to Urmi. “I’m afraid an old warrior feels naked without a sword.”

  “I gave you my word, didn’t I?” Urmi said resentfully.

  “And you can keep your daggers. I just want the sword,” Bibil insisted. And reluctantly his niece handed the weapon to him.

  “Bibil.” The prince seemed genuinely alarmed. “I don’t want any more foolish heroics for my sake.”

  “Let an old man with tired legs form the rear guard, Your Highness.” He motioned them to go on.

  “But—” The prince started to protest.

  “I’m only willing to put up with so much nonsense from you.” He gave the prince a shove down the tunnel that almost sent him sprawling on his hands and knees.

  “Go on, Mr. Sulu,” Mr. Spock said quietly.

  Sulu set forward at a trot, passing by the prince. But the prince, scrambling to his feet, kept pace at Mr. Sulu’s heels. Urmi and Mr. Spock came along after them with Bibil following, twisting sideways every now and then to glance behind them.

  They could hear the click of beetles’ mandibles and there was a clacking sound whenever one beetle raised and lowered its wingcase in a threatening display. Occasionally there would be a swirl of glowing spots as [97] one beetle attacked another and more joined in to attack both combatants. But such fights were only a slight eddy in the steady flow of beetles that followed them.

  When they reached the next fork, Mr. Sulu paused. “They both look like they lead down.”

  “Let’s try the one on the right,” the prince urged.

  And they plunged into it. To Sulu’s relief, the floor swung upward after only ten paces. “Faster,” Bibil urged from behind them, “the beetles are gaining.”

  The thought of those ugly mandibles immediately made Sulu pick up the pace. He only slowed when he came to the next fork. “The right one again,” the prince suggested.

  And they swung into it, but this one dipped after only twenty paces and began to slant downward. “Should we try to go back to the other one?” Sulu called.

  “We can’t,” Bibil said. “And for heaven’s sake, hurry. They’re gaining on this downslope.”

  The clacking seemed to grow louder as if the beetles were bumping into one another in their hurry to catch them. But the tunnel swung upward almost as abruptly as it had gone downward and they began running even faster, trying to put more distance between themselves and the beetles.

  They passed through two more forks, each time taking the right. Ahead of them lay another fork. “The right one again?” Sulu panted. By now they were all gasping for breath.

  “Wait,” Mr. Spock said. “I feel something from the left one.”

  Sulu paused and felt something brush his cheek faintly—like a ghostly bit of velvet. They had been [98] running through the tunnels for what seemed like such a long time that at first it seemed hard to believe that there was any other existence against the damp, stagnant air.

  And then, as if from some half-forgotten page of a history text, Sulu remembered what it was. “It’s a breeze.” He plunged eagerly up the left tunnel. This one slanted upward sharply and it took its toll on their already tired legs. But they scrambled upward, hands pawing for some grip, heedless of how many times they might slip and bruise themselves on the stones.

  “Wait,” Urmi said in alarm. “Bibil’s falling behind.”

  “No, no, go on without me,” he called.

  Sulu paused long enough to look below. Bibil’s legs were already cut as if the beetles had slashed him.

  “Go on, Mr. Sulu,” Mr. Spock said. “I will assist him. Getting the prince to safety is our first priority.”

  But after Sulu had climbed another ten meters, he found himself staring at a wall of rocks. He looked hurriedly for some side passage but the way was blocked by a pile of stones—except for a small crack through which a faint breeze was blowing.

  The prince squeezed up next to him in the narrow passageway. “There must have been a landslide.” He began pulling at the stones. Rocks began to clatter down below.

  Urmi, unable to join them because of the narrow space, paused. “Pass the candle to me, Sulu.”

  Sulu handed the candle behind him and started to help the prince. “Look out below.”

  “I’d rather have a few bruises,” Urmi said grimly, “than a set of mandibles sunk into my leg.” She picked up a stone in her free hand.

  “Get back there.” There was an ugly clattering, [99] followed by noisy crackings and squishings. Bibil was using a rock to smash the beetles.

  Mr. Spock gave a grunt and Urmi cried out. And Sulu jerked up sharply at the pain in his shoulders. The beetles were skitteri
ng over the ceiling in an ugly luminescent flood that neither Bibil, Urmi nor Mr. Spock could stem. It seemed that for every beetle they crushed, a dozen more took its place.

  “There’s a space,” the prince gasped.

  It was a narrow hole, but they went on tugging at the rocks, though their fingers had already been scraped raw and bleeding. The space gradually began to widen, large enough for one person to crawl through. They almost didn’t need the candle because of the soft, eerie light from the beetles’ wingcases.

  “How is it coming?” Bibil asked from below.

  “It’s going to take a while,” Sulu shouted down to him.

  He paused to look behind. The beetles were now crawling up over one another’s backs, surging upward toward them, and Bibil’s legs were now almost hidden by beetles. Bibil hefted the stone in his hand. “You’ll need time,” he said.

  “Bibil, don’t do anything foolish.”

  “I’m through taking orders, Your Highness.” Bibil raised his sword in one last salute. “Just remember. Go to Kotah. You’ll make a far better emperor than even you suspect.” And suddenly he charged back down the corridor, sword slashing and stone swinging. The flow of beetles paused, and then swarmed backward toward him. Bibil kept on grimly fighting and crushing, but the beetles covered him up to his chest now.

  “Bibil,” the prince called.

  Mr. Spock went on smashing at the beetles that [100] scurried back along the ceiling. “Your Highness, we must not waste the time that Bibil is buying for us.”

  There were still several dozen beetles that tried to attack them, but they worked to enlarge the hole until it was big enough for one person to crawl through. The prince looked behind them. “Bibil, it’s done.”

  But there was no answer from the figure covered in a living cloak of beetles. And even as they watched, it toppled over into a horde of kik-kiks.

  “Bibil, you old fool,” the prince murmured.

  “Your Highness, go through the hole,” Mr. Spock said quietly.

  “But—”

  “You would be the most likely to know where to find the door and how to work it,” Sulu urged.

  And the prince, three beetles clinging to his back and legs, squirmed through the opening.

  “Go on, Mr. Sulu.” Mr. Spock thrust the candle into his hands. “His Highness will need light.”

  Taking the candle back from Urmi, Sulu crawled through the hole, trying to ignore the fiery pain in his chest as a beetle sank its mandibles into him. Nearly a dozen beetles had crawled through the opening, but Sulu ignored them as he stumbled on. Urmi kept right at their heels as they found the prince by the doorway.

  “The device that would open the door is usually to the left, but of course there are always exceptions.” The prince was feeling all the stones around that side. Sulu and Urmi began to feel to the right with their free hands. Beetles darted up the walls, trying to seize their wrists.

  There was a large crashing of stones and rubble and at the very edge of the light from the candle, Sulu could [101] see that Mr. Spock had reclosed the hole. He made his way slowly up to them, bleeding from nearly a dozen cuts, his fingers closing around the neck of a beetle clinging to his leg.

  Suddenly, Sulu’s fingers brushed a small knob, cleverly plastered and painted to look like stone. “I think I’ve found something.” He pushed and prodded at it. “But what do I do?”

  Urmi smashed a beetle that tried to snap at Sulu’s hand.

  The prince stepped up behind Sulu. “Try pushing it to the right.” He shoved the knob in that direction, and hidden pulleys and gears began to turn and move. And then stopped abruptly.

  The prince jabbed at the knob several more times. “Come on. Come on. Work for us.”

  And gradually, groaning all the while as if the machinery were breaking down, the pulleys and gears began to move and the door slowly began to swing in. Throwing down her rock, Urmi impatiently grabbed hold of the door’s edge and tried to pull it open faster. The prince added his strength to hers and, after setting down his candle, Sulu joined them.

  Sulu could feel almost a physical hunger to see the light again and breathe the fresh air—though the air that was coming to them reeked faintly of smoke. But they kept on tugging.

  And suddenly they were stumbling outside. The prince was searching by the side, and as Mr. Spock limped through the opening, the prince pushed some other projection. This time the door swung shut more quickly.

  They were standing in a gulch through which a [102] narrow, muddy stream ran. A huge column of black smoke rose from the old citadel, hovering like a giant moth spreading its wings. The prince, however, stared at the door that had closed. “Bibil, if you weren’t dead, I’d have you hung for what you just did.” He wiped clumsily at the tears in his eyes. “Of all the people who have died today, I will feel your loss the most.”

  Sulu set the edge of his sword against the neck of the beetle hanging to his chest and took an immense satisfaction in severing its head. “You were close to Bibil, weren’t you?” he asked sympathetically.

  The prince bent over patiently while Mr. Spock and Urmi removed the beetles there. “He fussed and scolded a bit more than I liked, but he was my only true friend in the palace. Even the ninth heir has some uses within the palace”—the prince managed a weak smile—“if he can be controlled. But I could always count on Bibil to act for my interests and not for his. You wouldn’t think that such a tough, practical man could have a soft spot for the runt of the litter.”

  Urmi used the tip of her sword to pry apart the mandibles of the last kik-kik clinging to the prince. “Why do you always run yourself down?”

  The prince straightened, examining his clothes, which, like Sulu’s and Spock’s dress uniforms, were now in tatters. “Because I noticed at an early age that earnest young princes do not reach their majority.”

  Urmi knelt to bathe her own cuts in the stream. “Is that why you joke all the time?” She looked at him with new interest.

  The prince flopped down beside her and began to wash the soot from his face. “Perhaps your uncle was a poorer judge of character than he thought.”

  [103] A change in the breeze sent a thick cloud of smoke rolling down into the gulch. “In any event, we must get Your Highness away from here,” Mr. Spock said. He surveyed the gulch. “How far away is your clan’s province?”

  “To the west is the great plain we saw from my window.” He pointed in the opposite direction toward the hilly country. “It’s fifty kilometers through the badlands. My family usually takes a more leisurely trip along the river to a mountain pass but that doubles the distance. And the river and the pass will be the first things Rahu will seek to control.”

  Mr. Spock dabbed some water on a jagged slash on his leg. “The safest thing to do would be to hike a short distance into the badlands and find a place to hide until the Enterprise returns.” He straightened up. “In view of the circumstances, I am sure the Federation would grant you political asylum.”

  When Sulu had finally pried the dead beetle’s head from his chest, he came over to the stream. “Then you can do like you said you wanted to do and take courses for the rest of your life.”

  “Amazing.” The prince lifted his arm from the water, letting the drops patter down from the matted fur of his arm. “A few hours ago, I would have killed to achieve just such a dream. And now you gentlemen are presenting it to me on a silk cushion.”

  Urmi shook her head as if she could not quite believe her ears. “They’ll keep you there until the next time they want to take over Angira.”

  The prince clicked his tongue in exasperation. “They’re not out to exploit either me or Angira.”

  Urmi held up an apologetic hand toward Mr. Spock. [104] “Don’t misunderstand me. You offworlders have fought well; but it was in your own self-interest to get away from the palace.”

  “What do they have to do to convince you that they’re sincere?” the prince asked in exasperation.

 
; Urmi extended her jaw stubbornly—much like her uncle—as if it were a family mannerism. “They could promise to leave as soon as they could and never to come back.”

  “You mustn’t take such a narrow view, Urmi,” the prince chided gently. “Whether Angirans like it or not, they are a part of a galactic community now.”

  “You might as well know it now,” she warned Sulu and Mr. Spock. “Angirans will never accept you as their own.”

  With an almost insolent casualness, the prince dangled his feet into the stream. “After what’s just happened, I think Mr. Spock and Sulu are inclined to take that as a compliment rather than an insult.”

  Before Urmi could make any kind of reply, the screams began again. Orienting himself by the sun, Sulu judged that the sound was coming from a different part of the palace from where the slaughter had first begun.

  “It would be just like that fool Rahu to burn what he didn’t want.” The prince looked up at the palace walls. There came a scream and he stiffened. “Or to kill.” The prince’s chin dropped to his chest while Urmi’s words sank in. Finally he raised his head and, with a sigh, the prince turned to Mr. Spock. “Your suggestion is as sensible as usual. And yet I must respect Bibil’s last wish and at least return to my home province.”

  “To claim your throne?” Urmi asked. She looked as if she didn’t enjoy the idea at all.

  [105] The prince held up a hand. “Let me finish, Urmi. Once I’m there, I can perhaps determine if one of my brothers or stepbrothers has survived. If not, I will find someone to take my place as the claimant to the throne. My house has plenty of collateral lines, thanks to a great-grandfather who was ever at the whim of his glands. In either event, I will see to it that I am free to leave by the time the Enterprise returns.” He clapped his hands together. “And since I shall use the route through the badlands, I can leave you gentlemen safe and settled whatever might happen to me. We’ll be passing by Bibil’s old village, so I can see that you’re well supplied.”

  Mr. Spock did not look up as he finished cleaning the last of his cuts. “I confess to a certain scientific interest in how you and Kotah will react to one another.”