"Since you have been shadowing us since we first arrived at Starbase 499, you know perfectly well who we are. I think it only fair that you tell us now who you are."
Kirk and the others, fascinated by Spock's explanation, watched the half-Promethean squat on an empty chair.
"I am Taras Tarquin," he said quietly. "And I can arrange for you to purchase the hostages."
The noise of the rec deck covered the startled exclamations of the group.
"Of course we'll go. But I'll go instead of Uhura," Kirk said, as soon as Taras Tarquin had left them alone to discuss the offer.
"Now, wait a minute, Captain." Uhura stood up. "He asked for Spock and me."
"It might be dangerous."
"Yes, it might. But it might be more dangerous to ignore their instructions."
Kirk sighed. Before he could frame a reply, however, Uhura went on.
"In any case, you said yourself there's no need to follow strict Starfleet regulations. So, since no one here is giving orders, I've been invited, and I'm going."
"In any case, Captain," Spock interrupted their discussion, "the risks in this situation will have to be accessed by each of us on our own, since we are all technically civilians at this time. And if Uhura wishes to accept this invitation—"
"I do," Uhura said quickly.
"—then I think that is how we must proceed." There was a pause, during which Kirk scowled. "On the other hand," Spock went on, "I do not believe we should take this question of independence too far. After all, every good expedition has a leader, and I think we can all agree that Captain Kirk is the best there is."
Kirk looked up at him, glad to have the initiative back.
"Therefore, I think perhaps if you truly have an objection, Captain, perhaps we should reconsider."
"No. I'm afraid you're right," Kirk sighed. "If he has asked for a meeting with Uhura, for whatever reason, I suppose we have to go along. Be careful."
"Over the years," Uhura said to Kirk, "I have been in more dangerous situations. Please don't worry."
"Are you saying I'm being too protective?"
"You are."
"All right. Just keep your communicator open. We'll be aboard the ship if you need us."
Resigned, Kirk promised himself not to worry. He rose and looked around. Tarquin was lingering on the edge of the room, watching them. Kirk nodded an agreement, and Tarquin turned and scuttled away. Kirk took Spock aside and spoke to him in a low voice.
"I could understand that this Maldari wants you to be a go-between. Vulcans have an exceptional reputation for being straightforward and trustworthy. But why do you think he wants Uhura?" Kirk said.
Spock shrugged. "Possibly he feels less threatened by a woman. Or perhaps he saw her on the dance floor earlier, and is intrigued."
Kirk and McCoy, Barbara, Chekov, and Scotty all watched Spock and Uhura leave the rec deck, then headed back for the Plush Princess to wait. As they did, Kirk found himself wondering for the umpteenth time if Mr. Spock didn't possess something of a human being's sense of humor after all.
Spock and Uhura took the turbolift to the spacedock floor. Following Tarquin's instructions, they found an ancient shuttle waiting on a deserted platform, a marked contrast to the busy docks around them.
Tarquin was standing near several freight sleds. His smile, even more than his unusually straight teeth, was a mark of his human ancestry.
"Mr. Spock, I'm so glad you have decided to negotiate. We will attempt to effect a speedy return of your fellow officers." He looked around. "You are alone?"
"As you requested. May I ask who you represent?"
"Oh, I do not wish to present myself so formally. I do not wish to mislead you. I am simply a Beta Promethean with the desire to see our two civilizations become closer. Or at least not drift dangerously apart."
"You do not represent the government?"
"The Ruling Family? Oh, no. One has to be born into that tribe to have an official position."
"Or the Clerics?"
"The Shrewdest Ones, we call them. At least that's the closest translation in your language. I'm afraid not. They are much too dogmatic for my tastes. For example, did you know"—he looked at Uhura—"that women do not have first names on Beta Prometheus? They are allowed only the last name of their fathers, and later their husbands. Don't you find it characteristic of religions that women are second-class citizens?"
"We Vulcans do not—"
"Of course. I mean on Earth. That is why I asked you to come, Miss Uhura. You will not be a threat to them."
"Them?" she asked.
"The ones I represent. Or perhaps that is too strong a word. I do not want you to think that I speak for them, only that I can speak to them, you see. Without me or someone like me, it is unlikely you will be able to do even that."
"Then you represent …?"
"Yes. The pirates."
"Now we're getting somewhere," Uhura said enthusiastically.
"I would not say that. These Beta Prometheans are very different from Federation citizens. They are very independent."
"Taras, we Federation citizens, as you say, actually pride ourselves on our independence. We elect representatives to the Federation Council, and our rights are—"
"Of course. I did not mean to insult you. The Federation is the pride of the galaxy. I aspire to membership for my own planet, even while for reasons of self-interest some Prometheans do not. I meant to say that most Beta Prometheans, in this case the crew of the Sundew who have arrested your fellow officers, do not consider laws, rules, or regulations something which they need to follow, except as it benefits them. How best to explain this? With the exception of the Shrewdest Ones, to which the average Beta Promethean pays only the slightest lip service, there is no feeling that cooperation among the members of the community would lead to a better life for all. It's more along the lines of every man for himself."
"That is very plain," Spock said.
"These men had no idea that they would set off such an intergalactic furor when they captured the Federation officers."
"In other words," Spock pressed on, "these pirates are holding out for something they want."
"I suppose that's so."
"What? What do they want?"
"That is something they would like to tell you themselves."
"Good. Let us go at once."
"I'm afraid it is not quite that simple. Only one of you may go. Miss Uhura."
Spock frowned. "I can go alone if you like, or you can take us both, but I will not—"
"It is the Only Way. That is a Promethean expression, rich in meaning. It refers to our religion, as well as a host of other things we do, rather blindly if you ask me. In this case, you must take me literally. They will allow only one, and to be perfectly honest, they would be afraid of a Vulcan. They fear the powers of your mind, which to them seems almost mystical. They are a primitive people, as you may know, and have very little experience with sophisticated telepaths."
"We are not exactly telepaths."
"The famous Vulcan mind-meld. It frightens them. As I said, they are not sophisticated. Miss Uhura only, please. I will see that no harm comes to her."
There was a tick of silence. Taras looked around and, apparently in an effort to give Spock time to think about this, made small talk.
"This dock is seldom used. It is too small for the containers and shuttles now being operated out of this starbase. Alas, my own transport is, as you can see, of a much more ancient vintage. It is serviceable, however, and perfectly safe."
"Uhura, you do not have to—" Spock began.
"It's all right, Mr. Spock. This is what we came for." She turned to Taras. "Which way do we go?"
"I must make a few small requests first. You will leave your phaser behind. I must assume you are carrying one, even though I cannot see it. I understand you were all part of the great Starfleet in years past."
Uhura took her phaser out from the folds of her civilian jumpsuit, a
nd gave it to Spock.
"And your communicator."
"I must protest—" Spock began.
"I'm afraid they would insist. You will possibly be allowed directly into their sanctum, and could somehow transcribe that location over your communicator. Also this." He pointed at the Universal Translator on her tunic.
"This is my translator. I won't understand what the Prometheans are saying without it."
"I shall be your translator."
Uhura took it off and handed it to Spock.
"I suppose you will want my clothes next."
"No, thank you. It is true there are cultures out here so primitive their women are not allowed to wear any. In the case of Beta Prometheus, the opposite is true. Women must be well covered. Your modest dress will do. Shall we go?"
"Taras," Mr. Spock said sternly. "I'm going to hold you personally responsible for Uhura's safety. She is an emissary, and is not to become a hostage with the others. If anything should happen to her, I will blame you."
"That is uncharacteristically dramatic for a Vulcan, I believe. But then I understand you are part human."
"I mean what I say, Taras. Uhura is to be kept safe at all times, and returned in less than three hours, or I personally will come after you."
"I understand, Mr. Spock. I think perhaps we can trust the pirates to behave in their own self-interest, and in this case it is to communicate with you through Miss Uhura. I shall return her here as soon as I am able." He then led Uhura up a short platform, and Spock saw them disappear into the shuttle. After a few minutes, it rose up and glided across the spacedock toward the big bay doors, disappearing into the traffic of dozens of larger starships.
Uhura felt the sensation of spaceflight. She had no idea where she was, since there were no viewports in the shuttle. She sat stiffly, aware of the shuttle's increasing thrust, then its deceleration, and finally felt it settle straight down. She heard the low hum of the ancient engines fade away. Tarquin took her by the elbow and guided her back out the door and across a short space. Under her feet there was only hard rock, dust, and dirt. Finally she was led through a door.
The light was yellow and streaked inside the room. She was surrounded by half a dozen Beta Prometheans, and saw at once the difference between the full-blooded versions and Taras. The others had ugly, sharp, angular teeth jutting in different directions, and a mottled gray skin color, where his was pale. Clearly Taras was only a minor figure among these pirates, she observed, because he was now off to the side and not part of the leader's group. The leader and several of his cohorts were animatedly discussing her among themselves.
Then the Promethean who looked to be the leader came forward, and said something to her in a harsh, guttural language.
"He is introducing himself to you," Taras said from the side. "His name is Maldari, and he is—was—the captain of the Sundew. That's the starship that captured the officers."
More talk from the captain.
"He wants to know if you represent the Federation."
"Tell him I represent the Plush Princess. James T. Kirk, commanding."
The captain then spoke several long sentences.
"He says you probably want to know if your spies are all right. He wants you to know that they are. They are in a safe place, and all are healthy. He will release them, provided you agree to a number of things. Nod, smile, say yes."
Uhura did. "What do they want?" she said, getting abruptly to the point, feeling that she ought to match bad manners to bad manners.
Taras spoke aloud to Maldari in their language. Maldari answered, there were a few more exchanges, and Taras turned to Uhura.
"They want weapons. 'Powerful Starfleet weapons' is the way they put it."
"There is a Federation directive against selling or even giving away any weapons to nonmembers of the U.F.P."
"They claim the weapons they want are for trade. They deal in dilithium and odd goods most of the time, but the dilithium trading is tightly controlled by the Ruling Family, and their share of the profits is minor. They know they can get a fortune for Starfleet-type weapons, even hand phasers, throughout the galaxy."
"Not to mention using them themselves to kidnap more Starfleet officers."
Taras shrugged.
"Tell them I'll take their demands back to Captain Kirk."
Taras said a few words to Maldari.
"Now tell them that I have to see Captain Sulu and his crew."
There was a pause.
"They are not being held here," Taras said. "This is a fairly uninhabited moon on the far side of BP 1. The crew is in a prison in Archnos. It's quite a way from here."
"Tell them," she repeated.
Taras sighed. "All right," he said. Then he rattled some more to Maldari. Maldari angrily shouted back. Taras patiently spoke some more. He nodded, indicating Uhura. Maldari stepped forward and came within a foot of Uhura. She could see his brown teeth and his smile, though what exactly a smile indicated among these people, she didn't know. She smelled a rancidness about him. Bathing, she thought, has got to be exported. But she held her ground. Maldari spoke directly to her.
"He says you should take his word for their safety. You cannot make any demands."
"It's not a demand. I want to see them, or I cannot report that they are safe. If I cannot report that they are safe, Captain Kirk will not take your offer seriously. How do we know you even have them?"
Taras hesitated before he translated. When he did, Maldari stared at Uhura.
"Now tell him that the Federation will never ransom the hostages, because it is the strict policy of the Federation not to encourage blackmail. But Captain Kirk has been known to bend the rules. Tell him he is staring with his beady eyes at the one person who might be able to do something to help him out of the spot he's got himself in, because eventually Starfleet will blast his ass into the cosmos, and everybody will lose. If he's a trader, he ought to understand. Leave out the beady eyes part."
Taras smiled, and ran off a series of rapid sentences. In response, Maldari frowned. But he turned and spoke to his men. They moved forward quickly. One of them took Uhura's arms and began to lead her away.
"Hey—"
"They have agreed. They will allow you to visit the hostages."
Uhura tried to remain calm.
"You will be transported to Archnos on Beta Prometheus 1. I'll wait for you here."
"You're not coming?"
"It is better if I do not. You may have understood by now that I am an outsider here. My impure blood makes me virtually an outcast. I have been useful to them as an intermediary, but they do not trust me, and I do not know where your friends are being held. Just do as they say." He spoke rapidly to Maldari. "They'll bring you back here shortly."
Uhura was walked across the room. She passed into a corridor, was led out of the building, across a short stretch of hard ground, and pushed into the shuttle. Half a dozen Beta Prometheans climbed aboard with her. The doors clanged shut. She felt the shuttle lift off, and she settled back as comfortably as she could.
Her heart was pounding in her chest. I know I've been in dicier situations, she thought. But I can't remember any others just now.
Uhura felt the shuttle land. There was an exchange of dialogue between the Prometheans in the shuttle, and the shuttle door opened. She blinked in the harsh sunshine. Before she could look around, her Promethean captors hustled her out of the shuttle and across a stretch of pavement. They plunged her into a dark building and slammed the door shut.
When her eyes adjusted, she found that they were standing in a huge warehouse piled with transport containers. They moved down a corridor of stacked cases, then turned a corner. It was almost a maze, since the transport containers were haphazardly placed. She tried to remember the twists and turns. First right, second left, first left … she thought. Finally they came to a door. Two Prometheans were standing guard. Her own guards turned to her and ran their hands all over her clothes and body, a little too enthu
siastically, she thought. But she held her temper. Another exchange of the incomprehensible language, and the guards opened the door. Inside, in a low light, she saw a blaze of Starfleet uniforms. She was ushered inside, and the door was closed behind her. Eight Starfleet officers stared at her.
"Uhura!" she heard the voice of the former helmsman of the Enterprise shout, and Sulu came striding over, a big smile on his face. "What—? How—?" Then his smile faded. "Don't tell me you've been taken prisoner too," he asked.
"No, Sulu. I've been brought here to make sure you and your people are okay. It's good to see you."
"Can you tell us what is being done about this?" Dr. Hans asked.
"Let me introduce you," Sulu said quickly. "This is Uhura. We served together aboard the Enterprise. In spite of these clothes, she is a Starfleet commander."
"Inactive. In fact, I ought to warn you, I'm here unofficially."
"What does that mean?" a gray-haired but young officer asked.
"This is Lieutenant Roose, my communications officer. That's Dr. Hans, medical officer. This is our chief engineer …" Sulu quickly rattled off introductions to the eight officers that surrounded them.
"I wish I could answer all your questions. I'm afraid I don't have much to tell you. Basically, the Federation is negotiating with the Beta Promethean Ruling Family. But, in the words of the diplomats, it's going to take time. If they are making any progress, they're not making it public knowledge. But I'm sure they are," she added quickly. The faces around her appeared strained and tired, though she was glad to see that everyone appeared healthy. "Are they treating you all right?"
"We are all in good condition," Sulu said at once. "But they have already executed one officer. And taken the two women somewhere else," Sulu said grimly.
"We know about the officer," Uhura said. "I'm sorry. The women are safe. Sencus and the Excelsior crew were able to retrieve them. And we're going to get you out of here."
"What did you mean, you've come unofficially?" Sulu inquired.
"I'm not here on a Starfleet mission. Kirk—"
"Captain Kirk is here?"
The Fearful Summons Page 20
