Assassination Game

by Alan Gratz

  “This other cadet, Kirk,” Spock said. “Could he be a member of the Graviton Society?”

  “No,” Uhura told them. “Trust me. He’s not.”

  “I’m sorry I kicked him, then,” Sulu said.

  “Oh no,” Uhura said. “Don’t worry about that. He totally deserves it.”

  “Regardless,” Spock said. “We still have the means to track the phaser’s movement, and there are now three of us to keep watch. You have the tracking program on your PADDs. The phaser is currently hidden in the basement of Yi Sun-Sin Hall. When the person who placed it there retrieves it, the program will alert us. It is imperative we converge on the person at once, in case he or she is the rogue agent. Agreed?”

  “Yeah,” Uhura said. “And let’s just hope it moves again before the Varkolak reach Sector zero-zero-one.”

  “Indeed,” Spock said. “Thank you both.”

  “Um, can I walk you back to your dorm, Uhura?” Sulu asked.

  Uhura was a bit taken aback. She hardly needed an escort across campus, but Sulu knew that. Unlike Spock, for whom there was never any subtext, Sulu had to mean that he was interested in her and wanted the pleasure of her company on the way back. She liked Sulu—what she knew of him—but then there was Spock…. But what was she waiting around on Spock for? It’s not like he was going to sprout emotions overnight and start serenading her on his lute.

  “I—” Uhura began, but Spock interrupted her.

  “I need Cadet Uhura to stay behind so I might to speak to her,” he said. “Privately.”

  Uhura was surprised again. If she wasn’t so sure he didn’t care, she would have thought Spock had said it just to keep her from spending quality time with another man.

  “Oh, all right,” Sulu said. To Uhura, he said, “Another time then.” He said his good-byes.

  Uhura crossed her arms and leaned against the table, sure that Spock had some new mission for her. Some game within a game that, like the 3-D chess set behind her, he was playing against an imaginary opponent.

  “Cadet Uhura,” Spock began. He frowned. “Nyota. What I have to tell you is not easy for me.”

  Uhura got a weird feeling. Spock? Uneasy about telling her something? If they had been dating, she would have thought he was about to break up with her.

  “I have been giving a great deal of thought to our conversations of late—particularly those in which I argued for the Graviton Society. Or at least those in which I advocated a harder line for Starfleet. From the beginning, you argued that trust, loyalty, and honor were the hallmarks of Starfleet, emotional intangibles that I dismissed in favor of logic. But I see now that you were correct. I apologize.”

  Uhura didn’t know what to say.

  “You don’t—you don’t have to apologize to me, Spock.”

  “I believe I do. Despite your help in the past to become more … emotionally intuitive … I am still largely ignorant of the nuances of human behavior. Especially when it comes to relationships. Even so, only a Pakled would fail to understand that this mission has strained our relationship, and that was never my intention. In fact, quite the opposite is true: I asked you to participate not only because you were qualified for the role, but because, selfishly, I wished to spend more time with you.”

  Uhura’s heart was thumping in her chest. She had felt this way about him all along, thought that he was spending more time with her and sharing more of himself with her than anyone else because perhaps he felt the same way about her that she did about him. But he was Vulcan. He didn’t allow himself emotions. And this mission, the Graviton Society—all of it. He was right. It had come between them. Shown her just how alien he was. But if she was honest with herself, the reason she was so mad at him was because she had realized, finally, that she was in love with him. She crossed to the corner where Spock’s lute stood, mostly so she could hide the warring emotions in her face.

  “I thought that’s what we had, Spock,” she told him, still not looking at him. “I thought we had a … a ‘special relationship.’ But then everything started to change.”

  Spock came up close behind her, but didn’t touch her. “The fault is mine, Nyota. I have been reviewing the series of decisions that allowed me to deem what the Graviton Society was doing as acceptable, and I have come to the conclusion that I relied too heavily upon logic. As I did with our … special relationship.”

  Uhura almost turned, but she could hear Spock’s voice change as he looked away. He was opening up to her now, opening up in a way he had never done with her before. Perhaps, she thought, remembering his embarrasssment at playing chess alone, perhaps opening up in a way he had never done with anyone.

  “When I was a boy growing up on Vulcan, I was constantly bullied by those who sought to remind me of my human half. As if they would ever let me forget. In my subsequent efforts to prove to them, and to myself, that I am a Vulcan, I ignored the fact that humans have many admirable qualities. Some,” he said meaningfully, “even more than others. Of all your admirable qualities, Nyota, I find your heart to be your most admirable, and it pains me to think that through my own ineptitude, I have lost it. It is my sincere hope that you will continue to share it with me and to help me remember to sometimes be … more human.”

  Tears rolled down Uhura’s face, and she touched the Vulcan lute in the corner. She had thought Spock could never drop his logical exterior and serenade her, and yet he just had.

  “Would you like to hear me play it?” Spock asked, seeing her hand on the lute.

  Uhura turned. “Not tonight,” she told him, and she pulled his head to hers and kissed him.

  CH.22.30

  Sucker Punch

  Uhura wasn’t answering her communicator. Kirk had tried calling her all evening, but she was avoiding him. First, she had stolen the Varkolak sniffer and told him it was to take down a secret society. Then she’d sat there and let Lartal be accused of bombing the medical conference when she knew someone else had done it. Then when he and Nadja had followed Daagen to Chinatown, there she’d been, hiding out behind some barrels of wobbly headed dolls with a holo-camera. Kirk wanted answers from Uhura, and he wanted them now.

  It was already late at night when the security officer at the door to Uhura’s dorm gave him the okay to go in. Kirk had told him he was there to visit a lady friend, which was techincally true—although not in the way he led the officer to believe. It got Kirk inside, though, and he found Uhura’s door and rang the chime.

  “It’s Kirk,” he said. “Open up.”

  The door did open, bit it wasn’t Uhura standing there. It was Gaila, Uhura’s curvy, red-headed, green-skinned Orion roommate.

  In her underwear.

  “Hey, Jim,” she said with a smile.

  “Um, hi, Gaila,” Kirk said. Orion women had some kind of pheromone that sped up the metabolisms in most men, and Kirk could already feel his heart racing. Or maybe it was the push-up bra. Either way, he had to force himself to stay on task. “I’m looking for Uhura.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Gaila said, giving him a fake pout.

  “Is she here?”

  “No. I think she’s spending the night out. And Uhura never spends the night out.” She played with the zipper at the top of Kirk’s uniform. “But that means I’m all alone, in case you’re looking for someplace to spend the night.”

  Every molecule of Kirk’s body was screaming for him to step inside, close the door, and not come out until next week.

  “That … is a tempting offer,” he forced himself to say. “But I’m going to have to take a rain check. You have no idea where Uhura is?”

  “Nope,” Gaila said, looking up at him with come-hither eyes.

  “All right,” Kirk said. “I’ll just—I’ll have to—I’m going to go look for her somewhere else.”

  Kirk stayed right where he was. Gaila smiled.

  “Right now,” Kirk said.

  Gaila backed into her room, inviting him to follow her. Kirk put his hands on the door frame, trying t
o hold his feet back from taking him inside. It took every ounce of will-power he had, but he broke away and ran off down the hall.

  “Good night, Gaila!” he yelled.

  “Come back later, Jim,” she called after him. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Kirk slumped to the floor of the turbolift, breathing heavily and wishing he could take a very high-pitched sonic shower right now. But that too would have to wait.

  “Bones, I hope you know what kind of sacrifices I’m making for you, buddy.”

  Desperate to find something, anything that would help clear his best friend, Kirk took a long walk in the dark to Cavallo Point. Cadets had seen him leave his dorm, so maybe someone had seen where he went. It was a long shot, Kirk knew, but it was all he had. That, and the cool night air helped clear his head from his run in with Gaila.

  But Cavallo Point was as quiet and empty that night as it had been when Bones had come here, at least according to what Bones had said. Kirk took awhile to wander the park, listening to the low undertone of the ocean waves from far down the cliff. Who had called Bones out here, pretending to be Nadja? Who wanted him to take the fall for contaminating the shuttle debris with kemocite to implicate the Varkolak? And what was that rustling in the bushes?

  Kirk stopped, and the rustling stopped.

  “Who’s there?” he called.

  Nobody answered.

  Kirk went into the bushes where he’d heard the sound and then pulled out his communicator, using it to illuminate the ground at his feet.

  Four big round eyes blinked back up at him. It was two Tarsian men in Starfleet uniforms. Or, at least, mostly in Starfleet uniforms. They hastily zipped their tunics back up as they shielded their large eyes from the light.

  “Whoa. Hey,” Kirk said.

  “You mind killing the light?” one of them asked.

  “Oh. Sure. Sorry,” Kirk said. Tarsians were nocturnal, and had enormous black eyes that were the size of grapefruits. Their big eyes were disconcerting, but Kirk figured his comparatively little eyes must be weird for them.

  “What are you guys doing out here?” Kirk asked.

  “Um … stargazing,” one of the cadets said.

  Right, Kirk thought. Stupid question. “Come here often?” he asked.

  “Look, pal, this is a monogamous relationship. If you’re looking to hook up with someone, I suggest you try the Warp Core. Or maybe the Delta Quadrant.”

  “No, I mean—” Kirk sighed. This wasn’t going right. “No, I mean, seriously, do you come here often? Like, were you here three nights ago? It’s important. I’m trying to help a friend.” He explained everything to the two cadets, who had their clothes back on and were sitting up now.

  “The grumpy cadet? Yeah, sure. I remember him. He kept calling out a girl’s name,” one of them said.

  “But there wasn’t anyone else here. Except us. And we just laid low until he was gone.”

  “He took off after a while, still grouching.”

  “That’s him! Yes!” Kirk said. “Can you guys come back with me right now and tell that to Admiral Barnett?”

  “Admiral Barnett? Now?” one of the Tarsians said. “Why? Does it matter?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Kirk. “It matters.”

  It was morning by the time the Tarsians stumbled sleepily back to their dorms to go to bed, but their testimony was enough to spring Bones. There was still the not-so-insignificant matter of the kemocite found in their room, but until Starfleet could prove where and when Bones had acquired it, or that it was used to make the explosive that took out the president’s shuttle, McCoy was a free man.

  “It’s not like I ever had a motive for any of this, anyway,” Bones groused, making sure the security officers working the brig heard him. Kirk hurried him away.

  “Probation,” Bones muttered as they walked. “As though I did any of this.”

  “Don’t worry, Bones. We’ll get you cleared.” He told Bones all about how he and Nadja followed Daagen into Chinatown, even though neither of them, it turned out, had been able to catch Daagen red-handed.

  Bones clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Jim. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me two,” he said, meaning Gaila, but he didn’t elaborate. “Coming back to the dorm?”

  Bones shook his head. “Somebody I want to see first.”

  Kirk smiled. He meant Nadja, of course. A brand-new relationship, with all the fun and perks that come with it, and he’d spent one of his first nights in the brig. “Right,” said Kirk. “Say hello to her for me. She’s been a big help, by the way. She’s the one who spotted Daagen headed off campus in the first place. I think she really likes you, Bones.”

  Bones grinned, then thanked him again, and they parted ways.

  Kirk thought about heading back to his room for that overdue sonic shower, but it was breakfast time already and he was starved. He’d eat first, then shower, then sack out in bed. Without any classes to get to—

  Somebody sucker punched Kirk in the kidneys, and he stumbled and then fell.

  “Hey, Jimmy boy.”

  “Finnegan,” Kirk spat. The big cadet had him all alone, and Kirk sighed. As much as he loved the idea of the Assassination Game, the admiral was right. This just wasn’t the time or place for it. Kirk dragged himself to his feet and held his hands out in submission.

  “All right, Finnegan. You win. Spork me. I’m out.”

  Finnegan snarled. “I’d love to, Jimmy boy, but I can’t.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “I’m out,” Finnegan told him. “I got bumped off walking back to the dorm from Barnett’s office. Now somebody else has a spork with your name on it.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d tell me who it is.”

  Finnegan laughed. “Not a chance.” He took a step closer, his hands clenched into fists.

  “Whoa! I thought you said you were out,” Kirk said.

  “Just because I’m out of the Assassination Game doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill you, Jimmy boy.”

  Kirk had finally had enough. Without the game to worry about, without a spork to dodge, he attacked without fear. In thirty seconds, Finnegan was laying in the grass with one hand clutching his bloody nose and the other grabbing his busted knee.

  “Barnett’s right, Finnegan. You’re nothing but a bully.”

  Finnegan spat blood at him, but missed. Kirk grabbed Finnegan by the collar and raised a fist, threatening to punch him again.

  “Tell me something, Finnegan. How did you know to be waiting on me in Chinatown?”

  Finnegan laughed, despite his pain. “Your girlfriend told me you were going to be there.”

  Kirk frowned. “My girlfriend?” He wasn’t dating anybody right then. Not for more than a night or two, at least.

  “That girl you were with. The leggy one who runs the game. She sold you out, Kirk. She was the one who told me you were going to be there.”

  Kirk shoved Finnegan away and left him wallowing on the ground. He’d just gotten one answer to this mess, and now he had more questions. Why would Nadja go to such lengths to eliminate Kirk from the Assassination Game? With everything else that was going on?

  But the better question was, how did Nadja know they were going to end up in that warehouse in Chinatown?

  CH.23.30

  Secrets Within Secrets

  Kirk was right: McCoy’s first stop wasn’t his dorm room. It was Nadja’s dorm room. A night in the brig was hardly the best way to follow up on what had been a promising start to a relationship. A very promising start.

  In fact, it was the most promising start he could remember since his ex-wife.

  McCoy tried to put the implications of that away as he checked in with the guard at the entrance to Nadja’s dorm and then took the turbolift up to her floor. He would have called first, but Kirk still had his communicator, checking into whoever had left him that message in the middle of the night. When they figured that out, McCoy figured, he’d be free and clear for good—and they wou
ld have some idea about who was really behind all this. For his money, it was Daagen, and by all rights, the Tellarite should have been the first person McCoy had gone to confront. But there was that incredible night under the stars on the Argos telescope with Nadja that he couldn’t forget, and he had a good chance for a repeat performance if he played his “you’re the first person I wanted to see when I got out of jail” card right.

  Nadja’s roommate, a Brazilian cadet named Beatriz, was the only one in their room when McCoy got there, though.

  “She swapped duty with somebody on the telescope,” Beatriz told him.

  “Really? They’re still running telescope duty when classes are canceled?”

  Beatriz shrugged. “Now more than ever.”

  This was good, McCoy thought as he left. No, better than good. This was perfect! What better way to reprise the other night than with an encore performance?

  A quick sonic shower and a change of clothes later, McCoy caught a shuttle up to McKinley Station and hitched a ride with a Starfleet transport shuttle to the Argos telescope. They warned him they weren’t due back for a pickup run for the cadet on duty for another four hours, and McCoy tried to keep a straight face as he told them he would survive.

  McCoy went through the umbilical hatch and into the station bearing a picnic basket and a bottle of wine, but Nadja wasn’t in the control room.

  “Hello?” McCoy called.

  No answer. He left the picnic basket and the wine in the control room and went into the labyrinth of corridors that wound in and around the giant space telescope’s machinery. He finally found Nadja’s back end sticking out of a Jefferies tube on level four.

  “Nice view,” he said.

  Nadja jumped as much as the crawl space allowed her and fell out of the Jefferies tube, pointing a laser welder at him.

  “Whoa,” McCoy said. He put up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry to surprise you. Who were you expecting, the Varkolak?”