by Diane Duane
“Yes?”
“At Khitomer…” She bit her lip, her control visibly slipping now.
“Yes?”
“When the Federation president spoke, he sounded so…earnest.” She looked up, met Taryn’s gaze, and flushed visibly, but continued, “When he spoke of peace between the worlds, I could almost…visualize a galaxy where peace reigns. And that vision was attractive to me.”
“Ah, but Savel, therewill be peace,” Taryn reminded her. “Soon, the purpose to which I have dedicated my life will be achieved. Soon, therewill be peace. Of course a little strife must precede it, that is unavoidable. The war between the Federation and the Klingons will not last long, and the conflict between what remains of the Federation and our forces will be even briefer. But soon…within a year or two, we will have a lasting peace…and survival as well as victory for the Romulan Empire. Otherwise, what will happen to us?”
“The Federation will try to destroy us,” she replied without much conviction.
Taryn gazed at her thoughtfully, but finally nodded. “Another game?” he asked, waving at the chessboard.
Savel’s grave features brightened, though her control was back in place, and she did not smile. “Oh, yes,Vadi, ” she said, eagerly, and moved to set up the pieces.
Stepping off the turbolift, Sarek walked down the narrow corridor, halting outside Kirk’s quarters. He signaled the door. “Come,” the captain’s voice responded.
Kirk was just fastening the belt of his uniform jacket. He halted abruptly as he saw who his early-“morning” visitor was. “Ambassador!” he exclaimed, “Good morning.”
The Vulcan did not waste time on pleasantries. “Kirk, we must speak for a moment,” he said. “I have been giving a great deal of thought to your nephew’s abduction, and logic indicates that it is connected to our problem with the Freelans.”
“I was wondering the same thing myself,” Kirk said. “I called it instinct instead of logic, but it sounds like we’ve reached the same conclusion. What’s your reasoning?”
“While I was negotiating on Kidta, Commander Keraz told me that Ambassador Kamarag called a meeting of Klingon officers, and attempted to induce them to turn against Azetbur and her government. If Keraz and Wurrl were influenced by Freelan telepaths, why not the ambassador? With the history of events between you, Kamarag would prove an excellent candidate for mental influence.”
“You thinkKamarag kidnapped Peter?”
“Not personally, no. But that he was behind it…yes, I do.”
Kirk looked thoughtful. “That’s an interesting idea,” he said. “I know he hates me…I’ve been told many times how he’s denounced me publicly at every opportunity…but is his hatred strong enough to lead him to betray his government?”
“Perhaps not on his own, but with sufficient telepathic prodding…” Sarek countered. “Logic seems to favor Kamarag as a likely suspect in Peter’s abduction.”
“But how does that connect with Peter investigating the KEHL?”
“If the same person or persons are influencing both groups…it would be simple to induce the KEHL to turn Peter over to someone who would then take him to Kamarag.”
“You think there’s a third party involved?”
“I would suspect so. That way, the KEHL would not have to deal with an alien ship.”
“Makes sense. Uhura is trying to track down the ships that departed Earth during the time in question. But that’s a tall order. She’s been working on it since yesterday, so maybe she’ll have something soon.”
“Have you heard any reports about the KEHL and its activities?” Sarek asked. “I have not yet scanned today’s communiqués.”
“The leader, Induna, was finally released on bail,” Kirk said. “Last I heard, he was calling for—” The captain broke off as the intercom signaled. He activated it. “Kirk here.”
“Captain?” It was Commander Uhura’s voice. “Sir, I’ve managed to locate the points of origin of both the message sent to Peter in his apartment, and the subspace one that reached us.”
“Good work. What did you find out?”
“The first transmission, the one patched together with clips from old transmissions of yours, was sent from a vessel in Earth orbit…theBobino.”
“What kind of ship? What registry?”
“Bobinois a freighter, registered to an Otto Whitten, who owns her but is not her pilot.”
“Did you check him out?”
“Yes, Captain. This Whitten is a man with a past. A con artist…but clever. Arrested many times, but the charges were always dropped. The vessel is registered as a ‘freighter,’ but ‘smuggler’ is probably a more accurate description.”
Kirk glanced at Sarek. “Sounds about right,” he said. “Who is the pilot?”
“Bobino’s pilot is a woman named Erika Caymor. Same thing as Whitten. She’s been arrested a number of times, but she always gets off. Extortion, credit fraud, theft, smuggling…the list of charges against her goes on. But the authorities could never make anything stick. They’re a nasty—but clever—pair.”
“They sound like scum,” Kirk said, bitterly. Smugglers who had smuggled not contraband, but Peter Kirk, offworld. “What about the other transmission? The subspace one?”
“That message originated on Qo’noS, Captain. I can’t pin it down any further than that.”
“Damn!” Kirk muttered, looking over at Sarek and nodding ruefully. “Good work. Thank you, Commander.”
“I was glad to be of help, sir,” she said. “I put in a call to Vice-Admiral Burton’s office, asking them for any information they have onBobino ’s registered course. I’ll let you know when I hear from them.”
Kirk clicked off the intercom and turned back to the Vulcan. “Looks like logic and instinct are both paying off,” he said.
“What will you do now, Kirk?” Sarek asked. “Will you stay on course for Freelan? What about the ransom demand that you exchange yourself for your nephew?”
“At the moment, our course is taking us toward both destinations,” Kirk said. “I plan to get to the closest possible approach to the stated coordinates, then hand over theEnterprise to Spock and order him to take you to Freelan. I can hire a small ship at the nearest starbase and make that rendezvous myself.”
“Why not use theEnterprise ?”
Kirk shook his head. “I can’t justify using the starship for a personal mission like this.”
“But…Kirk. Going to keep that rendezvous alone will be extremely…hazardous,” Sarek said, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, I don’t plan to just waltz in with my eyes shut, Ambassador. TheEnterprise ’s speed has given me nearly a two-day lead that the kidnappers don’t expect. If they keep that rendezvous, I plan to be there well ahead of time, so I can find out where they come from.”
“Logic suggests that they will come across the Neutral Zone from Qo’noS,” Sarek said. “Kamarag told me once that his ancestral estate is located there.”
The captain programmed the food dispenser in his cabin for a cup of coffee, then, when it arrived, took a grateful sip. “It’s frightening,” he said, “to think that the Romulans could plan something like this for so long. Planting a colony on Freelan, disguising their appearance, all that security for decades…and the gradual acquisition of Vulcan children to raise so they could control their telepathic abilities. All of this beginning in the days before we even knew what the Romulans looked like! By my calculation, they’ve been working on this plan for seventy-five years!”
“Possibly longer,” Sarek said, sitting down on the edge of the bunk. “We have no idea when Freelan was first colonized. However, do not forget, Captain, that, like Vulcans, Romulans have a considerably greater life span than humans.”
The ambassador spoke without thinking, but, suddenly hearing his own words, he experienced a vivid memory of Amanda. They had been sitting together in her garden, watching T’Rukh, when she’d said, suddenly, “Sarek…I want you to know that I expect you to r
emarry after I am gone.”
Her husband had regarded her with mild surprise. “Amanda…is this statement a result of your having turned forty yesterday? I understand that this particular anniversary of birth is frequently stressful for humans…. ”
She’d smiled at him. “No, my husband. My remark was entirely logical. We’ve never spoken of it before, but it’s obvious that, barring some kind of accident, you will outlive me by at least sixty years. You should not deprive yourself of companionship, out of some misguided sense of loyalty. To do so would not be logical.”
“But—”
She’d smiled again and stopped his words with a shake of her head. “I know this is premature. But someday you’ll remember this conversation. Someday you’ll be relieved to know that you have my blessing in choosing another consort. Let’s leave it at that.”
And they had.
He looked up, to find Kirk regarding him intently from across the small room. “My apologies, Captain,” the ambassador said. “My thoughts turned…elsewhere. You were saying?”
The human shook his head slightly, his hazel eyes softening. “I want you to know, Ambassador, that I admire you and Spock for continuing with this mission…despite everything that’s happened.”
“Work is an anodyne to grief, Kirk,” Sarek said. “Or, at least…it presents a distraction.”
“Yes, I know,” the captain replied simply. “Ambassador…” He hesitated.
“Yes?” Sarek said, raising an eyebrow.
“I may be overstepping, here, but I just wanted you to know that…that Spock…” Kirk was struggling to find words. Sarek nodded encouragingly. The captain tried again. “He’s taking his mother’s death very hard,” he said in a rush. “With some people, it’s a relief to transmute grief into anger. If you don’t mind a word of advice…be patient. Let him work through this on his own. He’ll…come around.”
The Vulcan regarded the human steadily. “I will keep your words in mind, Kirk,” he said quietly. “Patience is a virtue on Earth…on Vulcan, we are taught that it is an essential component of life.”
Kirk sipped his coffee in silence for several moments. “Kamarag,” he said, finally. “Ambassador, if he does have Peter, I’ll have to go to Qo’noS…and stage a rescue.”
Sarek shook his head. “Captain…alone? That would be…most illogical.”
“Rescuing Peter isn’t an official mission,” Kirk pointed out. “But…maybe I don’t have to go to Qo’noS alone. Chancellor Azetbur was rather grateful that I saved her life…possibly she’d be interested in knowing about what’s going on.”
“I would not tell her directly, Kirk,” Sarek cautioned.
“Why not?”
“There is no way for us to know who may be under the Freelan influence now,” Sarek reminded him. “Azetbur herself might even be suborned.”
“They’d never get close enough to her,” Kirk said, but the captain was clearly taken aback at the idea.
“Possibly you are correct. But what about her aides? If they discover what you know, and that you have shared your knowledge with the chancellor, that would make her, in turn, a prime candidate for assassination.”
“You’re right…. ” Kirk set his coffee cup down so hard it sloshed into the saucer. “Damn! This entire situation breeds paranoia. You can’t trust anyone!”
“I will speak with Azetbur. I may be able to discern from her expressions and speech patterns whether she has been influenced. I will attempt to warn her…subtly, as well as discover whether she knows anything about Peter.”
“Thank you, Ambassador. I’d appreciate that.”
Minutes later, Sarek sat before the comm link in his cabin, waiting patiently as the screen flickered. Finally it cleared, and familiar features coalesced before him. Sarek inclined his head respectfully. “Madame Chancellor.”
Azetbur inclined her head in turn. “Ambassador Sarek. I trust you are well?”
“I am, Madame. And you?”
“Entirely,” she said. “Allow me to offer condolences on your recent bereavement.”
“Thank you, Madame Chancellor.”
The Klingon woman gazed at him, and, for the first time since he’d known her, seemed at a loss. “I heard about the attempt on your life, Ambassador. It was a relief to know that Wurrl had failed. I take oath on my father’s honor, Ambassador, that neither Keraz nor Wurrl was acting under my direction.”
“I know that, Madame Chancellor,” Sarek assured her. “I sensed Wurrl’s mind telepathically during the struggle. He was definitely not allied with your government.”
The chancellor visibly relaxed. “What is the purpose of your call, Ambassador?”
Sarek hesitated for a second, carefully phrasing his inquiry in the most subtle and least revealing terms he could manage. “Madame Chancellor…there was an…illegality, a violent act, perpetrated against a Federation citizen on Earth eight Terran Standard days ago. I am…disquieted…to inform you that this…incident, at least on the surface, appears linked to Qo’noS. Evidence indicates that this…link may be highly placed in your government.”
Azetbur blinked, and Sarek was quick to note the faint flicker of surprise cross her face. She was learning fast…her expression barely altered before her features were, once more, an impassive mask. But the ambassador knew that, whoever had been responsible for young Peter Kirk’s abduction, it had not been done with the chancellor’s knowledge or sanction. “Qo’noS?” she repeated. “I assure you, Ambassador, I have no knowledge of any such crime. Unless, of course, you are referring to the renegades who captured Kadura?”
“No, Madame Chancellor, this concerns a different matter altogether,” Sarek said. “Incidentally, may I inquire as to whether Commander Keraz has been captured?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Azetbur said. “He is still at large.” She gave the Vulcan an impatient glance. “Ambassador, if there has been violence done on Earth by Klingons—especially by any who are government officials, then I must demand that you be more specific.”
“Madame Chancellor, your zeal does you credit—but you have misunderstood. I am neither accusing nor identifying any Klingon official as having committed crimes.”
“Then whatare you saying, Ambassador?” she snapped. “I do not care for verbal swordplay; I am a Klingon.”
Sarek nodded. “I assure you that I would be more specific if I could, Madame Chancellor, but I regret that I am not at liberty to explain at this time.”
“When you are free to explain, will you, Ambassador? I must confess that my…curiosity…is aroused.” Her dark eyes sparkled dangerously.
“You have my word,” Sarek promised. “Madame Chancellor…I am not at liberty to do more than make a suggestion, for I have no way to substantiate my suspicions, but…” He paused while she listened intently. “If…individuals within your government appear to behave in a manner that is suspicious, or uncharacteristic…” He hesitated again, choosing his words with infinite care. “It is possible that…an external agency is exerting undue influence upon them. I believe that these external agencies were responsible for Commander Keraz’s actions at Kadura.”
Now it was Azetbur’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Really, Ambassador? What an extraordinary statement.”
“I make it only as one living being to another, Madame…not in any official or diplomatic capacity. Guard yourself, Madame Chancellor. I have reason to believe the intent is to subvert the peace process your government and the Federation have recently embarked upon.”
“What kind of undue influence?” she demanded. “Bribery? Torture of family members? Drugs, or other chemical forms of coercion?”
Sarek shook his head. “No, Madame. None of those methods. I regret that I cannot be more specific; however, I have overstepped my authority in divulging even this much to you.”
She gave him a long, thoughtful look, but forbore to ask, evidently realizing he could not be persuaded to say any more. Sarek took a deep breath. One final test, now. �
�Incidentally, Madame Chancellor…”
“Yes?”
“Captain Kirk requested that I express his wishes for your continuing good health and success in your administration.”
The Klingon woman’s expression brightened…for a moment she nearly smiled. “Please express my thanks to Kirk, and tell him I wish him success, too. We were…gratified…to learn that he and theEnterprise will continue to serve the Federation.”
Sarek nodded. “I have enjoyed our talk, Madame Chancellor; however, I know your schedule is a busy one. I shall say farewell.”
“Thank you for your…warning, Ambassador. Be assured I shall be watchful.”
Sarek nodded, then held up his hand in the formal salute. “Peace and long life, Madame Chancellor.”
Again the faintest of smiles touched the Klingon woman’s mouth.“Qapla’!, Ambassador Sarek,” she said, wishing him success.
“Captain?” Uhura turned to regard her superior officer. “I have an incoming call for you. It’s Vice-Admiral Burton, sir.”
“I’ll take it in my quarters, Commander,” Kirk said, and then he added, in an undertone too soft for anyone but her to catch, “Put this on a shielded frequency, Uhura.”
She nodded as he left the bridge.
In his quarters, Kirk turned on his screen and Vice-Admiral Burton, Starfleet’s chief of security, appeared. After the captain had outlined the problem of Peter’s disappearance, concluding with Uhura’s finding that the ransom message had originated on Qo’noS, the admiral, a beefy man with a shock of thick white hair, frowned. “More terrorism,” he concluded. “This is obviously not your ordinary kidnapping for profit.”
“I agree,” Kirk said. “How do you want me to handle this, sir?”
“Investigate your nephew’s disappearance without any public fanfare,” Burton said. “And if there’s any possibility that this is reprisal against you personally, by the Klingons, you’d better abandon this notion of going in alone. I’m officially authorizing you to use theEnterprise for this mission. If the Klingons are involved, then it becomes a matter of Federation security—and that makes it official. But…Kirk. I meant it about keeping this quiet. The KEHL is gaining converts every day. Something like this would add fuel to the fire.”
