“Standing Crane,” the president said softly. “You must have had a reason.”
“They seemed so harmless, sir,” Standing Crane continued, knowing how pathetic the words sounded. “We did our research. We never heard anything from either the Falorians or the Huanni about this history of slavery. Neither species seems inclined to violence, and it appeared as though the delegates were merely curious. Of course, I never let them into classified areas,” she hastened to add. “They were only permitted in areas that are generally available to all promising candidates for membership. The trouble is, they were insistent about visiting every permitted area, not just some.”
“Tell me,” said the president.
In an emotionless voice, but feeling misery and fear roiling inside her, Standing Crane recited the lengthy list. It included starbases, Starfleet and Federation [207] headquarters, large ships, small ships, planet capitals, and research centers. With every word, it seemed to Standing Crane that the mood in the room dropped lower and lower.
“No one suspected,” she said. “I discussed this with the Vulcans, the Makorish, the Andorians—all of us were amused by their curiosity.”
The president merely nodded. “And the young hostage?”
“His name is Alexander Kirk,” Standing Crane answered. “He is the nephew of James T. Kirk, the former captain of the Enterprise who—”
“—saved my life a few months ago,” the president finished. “This is a damn bad business we’ve got here. Parkan, Alexander seemed to indicate that they might not have Kirk. Your opinion?”
“The mention of the name roused a great deal of anger in Lissan, but I couldn’t tell whether or not they had captured him.”
“We must proceed as if they have,” the president said grimly.
“One thing in our favor,” Standing Crane said. “If they do have Jim Kirk, he’s giving them hell. And if they don’t, he’s doing everything he can at this very moment to contact us and free those hostages. I’d bet my life on it.”
“Let us hope you’re right. Now, can anyone—”
“Sir,” Standing Crane said, “there’s more. A few days ago, Captain Spock came to me with rumors that the colonists might be in trouble. I said I couldn’t authorize a starship on nothing more than rumors, but [208] I did give him permission to investigate on his own if he could find a ship to take him to Sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary? Is that the name of this colony?” When Standing Crane nodded, the president blew angrily through his dangling mustache. “We didn’t need that irony on top of everything else. Anything more you wish to tell me, Admiral?”
Standing Crane licked her lips. “No, sir. I think that’s about all.”
“It’s enough.” At her barely perceptible wince, the president added, “You couldn’t have been expected to guess that all this would unfold the way it has, Admiral. No one could.” He turned to face the rest of the group. “We’ve got work to do. Send out orders to every civilian and Starfleet vessel to head for the nearest habitable planet or starbase at top speed, and wait there for further instructions. I won’t have our people stranded in the cold of space. We’ll have to think of some other way to help Huan. About this virus ... I want everyone who. ...”
He continued speaking, but Standing Crane didn’t hear him. I should have trusted Spock, she thought, with an anguish that she would never let show on her dark face. He wouldn’t have come to me if he didn’t think there was a good reason. Damn it, Jim, I just hope I was right about you being able to handle yourself. If I never see you again, how will I sleep, knowing I might have saved you?
Chapter Eighteen
SCOTT KNEW EXACTLY how high the Drake needed to fly in order to evade Falorian scanners. Visual contact was still a possibility, of course, but they had to hope that if they were indeed spotted, the Falorians would merely think them colonists out on another research mission.
“I wish there were some way to find out if they were on to us yet,” Kirk said, thinking aloud. “I’d feel better if I knew the colonists were still safe.”
Scott craned his neck and looked back at his captain. “Och, we can do that. I’d have done it before but there’s a slight risk it’d be detected.”
Kirk leaned forward. “I’ll take that risk, Scotty. How did you manage that?”
“Well, it was a wee bit tricky getting into their communication system once,” Scott said. “I didn’t want to have to do it all over again if we needed to, so I installed a back door while I was waiting for you and Mr. Chekov. Kept me from getting bored.” There was a slight twinkle in his eye as he spoke.
[210] “Back door?” Chekov said, confused.
“Oh, aye. It’s an old computer term. It means I’ve got a way back in. Half a moment. ...” Scott fiddled with the panel as only he could, and then the small screen on the console sprang to life and Lissan’s arrogant voice filled the shuttle.
“—to take Huan,” he was saying.
“No,” whispered Skalli fiercely, and crammed her knuckles into her mouth in order to keep from sobbing aloud.
“Our vessels and that of our ... allies ... are moving even as I speak to you,” Lissan continued. The five watched intently. “This is a quarrel that goes very deep, its dark roots extending into the shadows of the past. It has nothing to do with you, and you will be well advised to stay out of it.”
“Scotty,” Kirk said urgently, “can we get a message out ourselves?”
“Huan is a Federation planet!” It was the president of the Federation. Kirk knew the voice, although he could not see the President’s visage. “We will come to the aid of one of our own!”
“We’d definitely be detected,” Scott warned.
“A noble sentiment, but quite misplaced,” Lissan smirked. “I will say this once, as clearly as I can, out of respect for the lives and safety of your people. Listen well. We have set up buoys around Huan. If any vessel, Federation or otherwise, violates that perimeter, then we will activate a virus that will leave every ship you possess hanging dead in space. No Federation vessel will be able to engage warp drive. Think about that, Mr. [211] President. Think about all the ships on deep-space missions far away from any hospitable planet or starbase. It would take them years to get anywhere under impulse power. Some ships would do just fine, but others wouldn’t. Even if they did get home, the crews of many ships would be old and gray before they ever again saw their loved ones. This is not something I would see happen to innocent people. Do you want that to happen, Mr. President? For the sake of a few million worthless Huanni?”
“I don’t understand,” Chekov said. “They would be more likely to comply if they knew they would die otherwise. What’s this nonsense about being old and gray?”
Kirk waved him to silence. “Do it, Mr. Scott. If we can get a warning out it’ll be worth it.”
The president was speaking again. “—that you have a great enmity toward the Huanni,” he was saying.
Lissan’s eyes flashed. “You choose pallid words, Mr. President.”
“The Federation has long been known for its ability to fold in different cultures and create harmony.”
“Scotty. ...” Kirk said, his voice tense.
“I’m trying, Captain, but it’s not as easy as you might think!” Scott retorted, his fingers flying over the console.
“Even now, we are making peace with a people who have historically been our worst enemies,” came a new voice. Kirk instantly recognized it as Standing Crane. “It has been a hard road, but when they were in need, we came to their aid. We are helping preserve the Klingons as the proud, powerful people they are. We [212] are not trying to make them just like us. Perhaps we could help you initiate negotiations that could lead to peace between both your peoples. War may not be the only option.”
“Pray God he listens to you, Admiral,” Scott muttered.
Lissan’s reply shouldn’t have been unexpected, but it was, and Kirk felt a stab of pain at the Falorian’s words. “Tell me, Admiral, have
you ever been owned?”
“What?”
“Have you ever been owned,” he repeated. “Has anyone ever owned your ancestor, made him work hard labor, and then tossed him away like so much trash when his usefulness was done? Has anyone—”
“I have such a history,” came yet another voice.
“Who’s that?” Chekov asked.
“Admiral Thomas Mason,” Kirk said. They listened intently as Mason described the institution of slavery that had once haunted humanity, and spoke eloquently of the shameful acts perpetrated on indigenous populations all over the planet.
“I’ve almost got it,” muttered Scott. “A few more minutes. ...”
“Listen to him,” said Skalli, as if Lissan could hear her. “Please, listen.”
“The past is the past,” Mason was saying now. “We learn from it, and then we move on. The Falorians and the Huanni can do the same.”
Lissan stared, his mouth slightly opened. For a moment, he was silent.
“That shook him,” Kirk said. “He doesn’t realize that [213] the Falorians aren’t the only species to have endured slavery.”
Beside him, Skalli sniffled loudly and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“I ... I would I had learned of this sooner,” Lissan said. Then he shook himself slightly and his old demeanor returned. “But now it is too late. You have my warning. Perhaps you need another.”
Kirk suddenly felt a knot of apprehension in his gut. When Lissan turned and motioned to someone off screen, Kirk knew what was going to happen next.
“Alex! God, no. ...” Julius turned his face away from the screen and wiped at his eyes.
Kirk kept watching with narrowed eyes, taking it in swiftly. Alex had been roughed up some, but he didn’t appear to be seriously injured. He had a few shallow, superficial cuts and some bruising, but that was it. Kirk had a sudden, swift realization: This is for show.
“Tell them,” ordered Lissan.
“I ... won’t. ...”
Kirk winced as the guard punched Alex. Maybe that was for show, too, but it clearly hurt.
“Scotty. ...”
“I’m going as fast as I can, Captain!”
“Tell them,” Lissan repeated.
“The Mayflower II has been destroyed,” whispered Alex, gasping for air. “They’ve captured some of us, of the colonists. They say they have Uncle Jim, too, but—”
Lissan intervened before the guard could land a second punch. “I do not enjoy cruelty,” he said, “and I [214] would much rather not have to hurt my hostages further. If you stay away from Huan space, your ships and your people will be safe. This is my warning to you. Heed it, or face the consequences.”
His image disappeared. Scott uttered a blistering oath.
For a long moment, there was silence in the shuttle.
“Another second or two and I’d have had it,” Scott said bitterly. “We could have gotten a signal out on their signal, but now they’ve terminated communication, the only way we’ll be able to talk to the Federation is to get into the Falorian stronghold and sit ourselves right down at the console.”
“It’s all right, Scotty. We’ll just continue with our first plan. Keep monitoring their communications,” Kirk said calmly. “Let me know if you learn anything significant.”
“Aye, sir,” Scott said, subdued.
Suddenly Julius uttered an incoherent cry and slammed his fist against the ship’s console.
“Hey, that’s delicate equipment!” Scott snapped angrily.
“I don’t give a damn,” snarled Julius. “I want Lissan! That son of a bitch hurt my brother, and damn it all, it’s my fault. Alex,” he said, and fell silent.
Thoughts were racing through Kirk’s brain at a kilometer a second. “Something’s just not adding up,” he said. “Lissan warned the Federation not to intervene or else they would activate the virus and strand millions.”
“But that’s a He!” Skalli’s voice was thick with [215] unshed tears. “They know that once the virus is activated that all the warp cores involved will breach!”
“I’m not so sure they do know,” Kirk continued. “They warned the Federation about the virus instead of just going ahead and activating it, so we could bring our people to safety. Did you see how shaken Lissan was to learn that other species had dealt with being enslaved? And the cuts on Alex’s face—he wasn’t tortured. All the injury was to his face—where it would be visible, where we’d be sure to see it. Lissan didn’t even let the guard punch him again. Does all this sound like the behavior of a butcher who’s knowingly planning on cold-bloodedly murdering billions of innocent people?”
There was silence in the shuttle. No one spoke.
“Lissan doesn’t know,” Kirk said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”
“Doesn’t know what?” snapped Julius.
“He doesn’t know what the virus can do.”
“Oh, come on, Uncle Jim, his people created the damn thing!”
Kirk ignored his nephew’s outburst. “Scotty, what was it you were saying—that the dilithium the Falorians used for testing was incredibly pure?”
“Aye,” said Scott. “Over ninety-nine percent pure. I’ve never seen the like.”
“And you saw no indication that they ever used a crystal that was less pure.”
“None at all. It looked as if all the tests were run with samples from the same crystal. They all had the exact same level of purity.” Scott glanced back at him, his [216] brown eyes curious. He was wondering what Kirk was getting at.
“Is it possible, in theory,” Kirk continued, reaching for the thread, “that the Falorians really believe that all this nanoprobe virus is going to do is render the crystals inert? That they have no idea that it could cause a warp core breach?”
Scott’s eyes brightened. “All the tests they ran on that one crystal would verify their theory that the virus would make the dilithium useless, but not dangerous.”
“They’d be taking advantage of the whole quadrant, but they don’t think they’d be killing anyone,” Chekov said.
“Oh, they’ll be killing people, all right,” Skalli said with a harshness that surprised Kirk. “They’re getting ready to kill my people so they can take Huan’s dilithium.”
“Skalli’s right,” Julius said. “And part of that blood is going to be on my hands.”
“I’m not saying that the Falorians have suddenly become the good guys,” replied Kirk. “And I’m certainly not trying to pretend that an attack on Huan is trivial. What I’m saying is it sounds to me as if they don’t know that their virus is lethal. We have to tell them that.”
“Somehow I don’t think Lissan is going to sit down over a nice cup of tea and let you talk to him about his virus,” said Julius.
“I’m certain he won’t,” Kirk said. “We’ve got a job to do, but informing Lissan about the virus is part of that. Scotty, take us in.”
* * *
[217] Standing Crane didn’t think she’d ever seen so many famous dignitaries gathered together in one place. Many of these people she’d never even met, and wished that they were mingling at a banquet over drinks and not around a table discussing the possibility of the entire galaxy being plunged back into the dark ages.
The president called the meeting to order. The assembled group watched as the conversation between the president and Lissan was replayed. There was utter silence in the room. When the lights went back up, the president continued.
“We have had the best scientists in the Federation working on this,” he said. “Samples have been obtained from every known area in which the delegates from Falor were present. Unfortunately, it appears that Kal-Tor Lissan was telling the truth. We have discovered a nanoprobe virus at every site.”
Soft groans and winces went around the table. The president pressed on.
“Even worse, the technology involved is quite beyond our present understanding. We’re not sure if we could deactivate even the samples we have, which are but a fracti
on of what’s out there. As I understand it, this is a true virus, even though it’s comprised of tiny machines. If you shook hands with a Falorian delegate, if he was on your ship, at your space station, visiting your capital or being entertained in your banquet halls, he left the virus. Then anyone who walked through that banquet hall, or brushed up against you, or stopped at that space station—they, too, would have the virus. It’s on your clothes, your hands, in your body.”
[218] “Have any of our esteemed scientists learned what this virus will actually do?” The question was asked by Sarek, his face as calm as ever.
“Lissan said it would render all our ships dead in space, unable to engage in warp drive, and Parkan has told me that on this, he did not lie,” the president answered. “Of course we’ll have to confirm that independently. There’s a chance Lissan might have been lied to, but I personally doubt it. Our next concern is to determine if other machinery will be affected, and how. Preliminary investigation into the nature of the nanoprobe reveals that it is harmless to organic beings, which is a small blessing.”
“I have been doing my best to be constructive,” the Huanni ambassador, Ullak, said. His expressive face worked as he clearly tried to get a handle on his emotions. “But I cannot sit quietly by while we discuss the virus without voicing the needs and fears of my people! Huan is a Federation member in good standing. What is the Federation going to do to prevent this undeserved attack?”
“Ambassador,” the president said quietly, “your planet is currently not in good standing, as you must know. You have admitted that you lied to us regarding Falor. Had we known of your ... past relationship ... with the Falorians, steps might have been taken to bring you both to the negotiating table at that time. This whole tragedy might have been averted.”
“Whatever we did in the past,” Ullak cried, “surely you cannot sit here and tell me that the living Huanni deserve to die for it!”
[219] “Of course not,” replied the president. “But neither can we move to stop the Falorians until we know exactly what their virus will do to us. It’s not just Huanni lives at stake here, Ambassador. It’s the lives of people on ships throughout the quadrant.”
STAR TREK: The Original Series - The Last Roundup Page 17
