by L. A. Graf
dark, Scottish frown at the doorway. "We might be speaking just a wee
bit too soon, I'm afraid..; ."
"Kirk?" Heavy footsteps thundered up behind him, followed by a sharp rap
on the shoulder. "I need to talk with you, Captain. As usual, your
people are causing me problems."
Dropping his head, Kirk rubbed his eyes with one hand instead of turning
to growl at John Taylor. "Mr.
Taylor, I am on shore leave. Mr. Spock is on the ship if you have
questions--"
"Damn right I have questions!" Taylor stepped into Kirk's peripheral
vision, Obviously waiting for the captain to look up at him. He'd be
waiting a long time, Kirk decided. "Your Commander Spock says we've
been barred from reboarding the Enterprise. Is that true?"
"Vulcans don't lie, Mr. Taylor." Kirk finally swung his chair to face
the man, and couldn't help lifting eyebrows in surprise to find all four
auditors fidgeting impatiently behind him. He focused on the taller of
the two men, knowing from three days' hard experience that Taylor was
both mouthpiece and motor for this unit. A more offensive and prickly
mouthpiece, Kirk couldn't have easily imagined.
"You've been barred from the Enterprise," Kirk said, "because your
business there is finished. I was told to assist in your inspection
while we were in port. You said last night you were done with that
inspection, so, as of this morning, you have no further authority or
need to inspect either my ship or my crew. I'll thank you to leave us
our remaining shore-leave time in peace." He nodded to the other three
auditors, and moved to turn his back on them in the hopes they'd all
take the hint and drag their boss away.
"Not so fast, Captain." Taylor stopped him with a hand on his chair and
a hard copy film of Federation letterhead under his nose.
Kirk took the film in both hands, refusing to recognize the boarding
permit or the official-as-hell signature beneath it. "What's this?"
"My orders." Taylor crossed his arms, lips curled in a sneer of
satisfaction. "I found a number of discrepancies while compiling my
people's reports on your
crew. The Federation Auditor General thought it a good idea to observe
your ship in the course of a normal mission. That way, we can decide
who's at fault before my final report is filed."
Kirk clenched his fist until the permit crumpled to near-unreadability.
"At fault?" McCoy's blue eyes snapped with a disapproval Kirk had
learned to recognize well over the years. "You turn people's jobs and
experience into sets of little numbers, then you think somebody has to
be at fault when those numbers don't match up to some desk jockey's idea
of efficiency? Good God! How are we supposed to be efficient with you
people sticking your noses into everything all the time?"
"Lingering hostility," Kirk reminded the doctor. McCoy only made a face
and fell silent.
"You can't come with us." Kirk turned his chair to face Taylor again,
suppressing a guilty swell of satisfaction when the auditor danced back
a few steps to avoid colliding with the captain. "No matter what the
Auditor Genefal thinks, you're still civilian personnel. The Enterprise
is scheduled to conduct three separate planetary explorations in the
Canopis sector on our next assignment. As captain, I have the right to
declare any of those explorations too dangerous for civilians." He
spread his hands and smiled his most painfully charming smile. "I am
hereby declaring them so."
Scott leaned across the table to shrug apologetically. "You can't very
well study a crew's efficiency when you aren't even able to be with the
crew, now, can you?" He sounded as reasonable and contrite as any man
ever could. "Maybe next time."
Taylor narrowed dark eyes to peer back and forth from one to another of
the three officers. Kirk honest lO
ly couldn't remember if Taylor's every expression and gesture had
irritated him from the beginning, or if the rare degree of enmity they
shared had developed along the way. It probably didn't matter anymore.
"What if you weren't going to Canopis?"
"But we are," Kirk said. "Even you can't change that."
Taylor snapped a finger against the flimsy in Kirk's hand. "I don't
have to. Commodore Petersen already did."
That clock-spring of tension came back with annoying facility. Kirk
flipped the printout in his hand, frowning down the long chains of
legalese until words like "Orion" and "surveillance" popped out of the
morass. "They can't do this." He shot a glare up at Taylor, and wanted
suddenly to slap the hauteur from the auditor's face. "Why wasn't I
told?"
Taylor shrugged, snatching back the flimsy. "I'm sure there's a message
waiting back on board for you. Maybe you don't check your mail prompts
often enougll." And maybe this was all some stupid misunderstanding, and
the Au ditor General wasn't really trying to push some starship captain
into murdering a team of his investigators. Standing, Kirk pulled the
flimsy from Taylor's hand much more politely than the auditor had taken
it from him.
"Where are you going?" Taylor asked when Kirk stepped past him.
"To talk to Commodore Petersen. There has to be some mistake." Kirk
stopped in the doorway to glance behind him. "Bones, Scotty--I'm afraid
I'll have to take a rain check on that lunch."
They were already out of their chairs and headed after him. "Are you
kidding?" McCoy grumbled while
auditors parted before him like a flock of flustered pigeons. Taylor
turned an irate circle, mouth agape even though he didn't try to stop
the doctor. "If I have to eat anything called bubble-and-squeak," McCoy
declared, "the last thing I need is somebody criticizing the efficiency
of my digestion." He bumped Scott with one elbow, favoring the auditors
with a withering glare. "Come on, Scotty--let's go find someplace
that's a little more discriminating about who it lets inside."
Chapter Two
"THOSE WER the rudest policemen I've ever met."
Uhura's voice still smoldered with indignation. "Look at them--they're
shoving everyone around!"
Sulu nodded, frowning as he watched the dark red figures weave through
the crowd. Their spacing seemed too carefully measured to be the random
result of shore leave. "I think they're looking for someone. Or
something."
"Well, I hope they don't find it." Uhura took a bite of the pastry she
held, then looked at it in surprise. "Pavel, did you give me your
cloud-apple pie?"
The security chief looked over his shoulder at her,
' his frown fading down to one worried line between his eyes. "No, my
pie was the one that dropped," he assured her. "That one's yours."
Uhura gave him a dubious look. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Sulu grinned. Knowing how much Chekov disliked trying any new food made
it even more fun to watch him wriggle out of it. "Coward," Sulu said,
licking the last pastry flakes Off his fingers. He glanced around,
looking for a directional marker. "Come
on. We've only got an hour of
shore leave left, and the store I want to visit is at the other end of
the Galleria."
"It would be." Despite his sigh, Chekov followed Sulu readily enough
down the gallery's curving tunnel, merely pausing to let Uhura fall into
step in front of him. Sulu noticed that the Russian kept a wary gaze on
the red-suited figures moving through the crowd. "So, what hobby is it
this week?"
Sulu blinked, startled by the accuracy of the question. "How did you
know--I mean, what makes you think I've got a new hobby?" He glanced
back over his shoulder, hearing Uhura's soft ripple of amusement join
Chekov's deeper laugh. "What's so funny?"
"Sulu, there are some things we always do when we're on shore leave
together," said Uhura with a smile. "Chekov always cajoles you into
playing simulator games--"
"Uhura always finds some strange food for us to eat," added Chekov
wryly.
"--and you always find a new hobby to bring back to the Enterprise."
Uhura glanced back at the security chief as they passed the wide gate
leading to the station's docks. "What was it last time? Arcturian
yoga?"
Chekov shook his head. "That was the time before last. Last time it
was carving replicas of famous starships in Iotian crystal."
Mild embarrassment prickled across Sulu's cheekbones, and he lifted a
hand to scrub the feeling away.
"I'm still working on those starships," he pointed out. "And how was I
supposed to know you need two sets of arms to do Arcturian yoga?"
"Sulu, anyone who ever watched an Arcturian doing yoga would have known
that!"
"Details, details." Sulu spotted the store he'd visited earlier, its
painted sign almost hidden by the a'lot of ivy and flowers cascading
through the open lattice front. "This is the place I want. Come on
in."
Inside the plant-filled shop, the pleasant chime of falling water
mingled with the chirp of something like crickets. Sulu paused on the
threshold and took a deep breath. The mingled smells of soil, leaves,
and budding flowers moistened the air to almost planetary freshness.
"Isn't this great?"
"It's just like your cabin." Chekov came to stand beside him, frowning
as the chirping sound grew louder. "I thought insects weren't allowed
on class-four space stations."
"Those aren't insects." Sulu lifted a curtain of Denebian lianas for
Uhura to duck under, ignoring the spray of fragrant pollen they showered
down on
him. Beyond the screen of vines, water bubbled in a curved black
marble pool, gently rocking the moss' green pads of water lilies.
Translucent sapphire riow-en rose out of the water on fragile, bending
stems while small gold-speckled lizards curled catlike on the leaf pads.
Their throat sacs fluttered with their chirping.
"Oh!" Uhura's musical voice softened with delight as she sank down
beside the pool. "Sulu, they're beautiful! What are they?"
"Hallcan water chameleons. Watch." Sulu bent and flicked the water with
his finger. The chirping soared
into a chorus of alarm, then fell to total silence. On each leaf, only
a moss-green shimmer marked the places where the small lizards had been.
"Pretty neat, huh?"
'."You're going to raise lizards now?" Chekov ducked through the lianas
and stood looking dubiously down at the lily pond. "What's the point of
owning animals you can't even see, much less play with?"
"I like the noise they make. And, besides, you need them to pollinate
the flowers." Sulu dipped a hand into the pool to cup one of the
translucent lilies in his palm. As soon as his fingers touched th
petals, a pale firefly radiance sprang to life inside. After a moment,'
a shower of phosphorescent pollen puffed out from the heart of the
flower. The tiny sparks settled across Sulu's hand and glowed there
briefly before winking out. "I've only seen these in books--they're
Halkan fire-lilies. I thought I'd add them to my plant collection."
"I'd like to know where--" A fierce crash from the front of the store
interrupted Chkov's question. The security officer spun around, then
dove through the curtain of vines with Sulu and Uhura at his heels. They
emerged from the screen of plants in time to see a figure in familiar
dark red armor sweep a potted cycad off its stand. Ceramic shattered
violently against the tile floor.
"Hey!" A burly gray-haired man burst from a door in the side of the
shop, holding a broom like a quarterstaff in his hands. He looked in
disbelief at the heaps of dirt and trampled leaves on his floor, then up
at the armored policeman. "What the hell do you think'you're doing?"
The Orion turned his dark-visored face toward the
shopkeeper, one gloved hand already curled around another plant.
"Standard search procedure," he said in a curt monotone, and sent the
plant crashing to the ground.
"The hell it is! This is the Federation!" The shopkeeper tried to
shoulder between the Orion and his merchandise. Sulu drew a tense
breath, seeing Chekov move to intervene. He dropped a restraining hand
on the security officer's shoulder just as the Orion flung the burly
shopkeeper across the shop with the ease of someone used to a much
higher gravity. The chirping from the back of the shop went silent with
the crash.
Chekov paused warily, an arm's length from the Orion while Uhura darted
forward to crouch beside the groaning shopkeeper. Sulu drew in a tense
breath, watching the armored policeman turn to stare down at the
slighter figure of the Enterprise's security chief. "Chekov," Sulu said
softly, "just let me say three words before you decide to start
something hereto two Earth gravities."
"I remember." The RussJan's left hand twitched behind his back, fingers
clenching and unclenching twice. Sulu blinked and took a slow step
backward. "Uhura, is the shopkeeper all right?"
"It looks like he hit his head," she said, sounding concerned.
"Don't worry about me." The burly man levered himself up on one elbow as
Sulu retreated another step. "Just go get station security. I want
them to arrest this ape."
"That won't be necessary." Chekov's hand jerked again, and Sulu promptly
yanked down a handful of lianas. He doubled the vines into a loop, then
flung them up to catch around the Orion's neck. The
armored man grunted and tore away with a jerk, but in the brief moment
that his hands were occupied, Chekov ducked forward to grab his phaser
pistol from his belt. The security officer had to dive sideways to
escape the Orion's swift clutch, but he rolled and came up with the
phaser pointed directly at the policeman's chest. The Orion stiflened
as if the joints of his suit had suddenly locked.
"Get out of here," Chekov ordered. "Now." The-Orion's gloved hands
twitched as if he wanted to grab for the phaser rifle slung across his
back, but Chekov'S fierce staremand steady grip on the phaser
pistolsmust have convinced him not to try it. With a ' wordless growl,
he swung around and
headed for the door.
"Uhura, call station security." Chekov rolled to his feet without taking
his eyes off the retreating red-suited figure. "Tell them their Orion
visitors are breaking station regulations down on Deck Five."
The communications officer nodded. "Of all times not to have a
communicator with me. Where's your station intercom?" she asked the
shopkeeper.
"Inside my office." The burly man jerked his chin at the door he'd come
out of, then grunted and gingerly lifted a hand to his forehead. While
Uhura scrambled up to look for the communicator panel, Sulu found a dean
cloth near a plant-watering faucet, then came over to press it against
the shopkeeper's forehead.
The man gave him a quick, tight smile. "Thanks. You folks handled that
Orion real good--better than station security would have. I take it
you're from the starship that came into port the other day?"
"That's right." Chekov still watched the door, the phaser pistol ready
in his hand. "What's wrong with
your station security? They shouldn't be letting Orions get away with
this kind of behavior."
The shopkeeper sighed. "They weren't this bad when they first hit
port." He heard the dubious noise Chekov made and grunted. "Well, they
were rude, but they didn't do anything this destructive. Just looked
around the shop two or three times and left."
