Jamie Kirk’s first assignment as an official cadet sounds easy as pie: Befriend Meyla, a young princess traveling with some of her entourage aboard ship. The rest of the delegation from Jovita is aboard a Klingon vessel that parallels the Enterprise all the way to an important trade conference. A news reporter complicates the journey, poking her nose into every corner of the Enterprise. Who will win the right to trade the rare and costly Jovitian Seri stones? Can the Klingons be trusted to play fairly, especially when the Seri stones are more than just pretty baubles?
Chapter 1
The captain has been in a bad mood for
two days. He snapped out orders all day yesterday. Then he glared at the view
screen. And today he ordered extra battle drills. Later, I asked way too many
questions, so he sent me to the gym with a look that said, “Go. Now.” I have a
feeling that supper is going to be one of those surprise meals, when he doesn’t
pay any attention to what he selects from our cards.
Jamie
was right. She made a face at the contents on her tray: three different kinds
of vegetables, a salad, and a slab of a fish-like creature that came from
who-knew-what planet.
“Yep,
a really bad mood,” she muttered.
Captain
James Kirk set his tray down on the table and sat down. “What are you talking
about?”
With
one finger, Jamie pushed her tray of food away. “Whatever has put you in a
rotten mood the last two days must be pretty bad. Not even a Klingon could
force me to eat this supper.”
Kirk
turned his attention to Jamie’s tray winced. “That does look unappetizing. Did
I really order it for you?”
“Yep.
It’s one of the clues that something bad has either happened or is going to
happen soon.”
Kirk
looked surprised. Then he grinned and ruffled Jamie’s golden waves. “That’s
pretty good insight for a ten-year-old.”
“I’m
almost elev—”
“Not
even close.” Kirk selected a chunk of the fish and began chewing.
“So,”
Jamie said, “are you going to tell me why you’re in a bad mood and how long
it’s going to last? That way I can stay out of your way”—she paused—“more
efficiently.”
Kirk
sighed. “The Enterprise is going to put on
display. The Federation Council has convinced Starfleet Command that it would
be in everyone’s best interest to let the public know what goes on aboard a
starship.”
“Why
is that bad?” Jamie wanted to know. She took a tiny flake of fish and tasted
it. Yuck! She spit it out.
“Because
the crew does not need a nosy newscaster roaming the corridors, interviewing
whomever she pleases, whenever she pleases.”
“Oh,”
Jamie said. “A newscaster might disrupt the crew’s efficiency.”
Kirk
rolled his eyes. “Something like that. Nan Rushmore is filming a documentary on
where the Federation’s tax credits are going. Admiral Komack thinks it’s a
great opportunity to prove that Starfleet is exploratory in nature, and not the
military arm of the Federation.”
Jamie
dropped her fork with a gasp. “Nan
Rushmore,
the newscaster from the NetNews? She’s coming here? To the Enterprise?”
“Unfortunately,”
her father muttered.
“That’s
great! I’ve never met anybody famous before. Are you going to show her the
entire ship?”
“Not
if I don’t have to.”
“Can
I meet her?” Jamie asked, nearly bouncing in her seat.
“I
suppose it’s inevitable. You’ll hound me until I introduce you.”
Jamie
grinned. “Thank you!” Then she narrowed her eyes. “But, Daddy. One newswoman
couldn’t put you in such a sour mood. There must be more to it than that.”
Kirk
took a swallow of coffee and paused, as if he was not in the mood to share
every little ship’s secret.
Jamie
noticed his indecision and gave him her most pleading look.
“Oh,
all right,” he gave in. “If it were only Nan Rushmore, I could cope. However,
the Enterprise is again ferrying
passengers across the quadrant like so much cargo.”
Jamie
perked up. “Any kids?”
“Not
likely. It’s a galactic trade show, and it doesn’t get any duller than that. He
tossed his fork onto his tray in disgust. “This is a lousy supper. Let’s get
some ice cream.”
Jamie
leaped up in joy.
Kirk
disposed of their trays then inserted his card into the replicator. Out popped
two ice-cream sundaes, Jamie’s favorite treat.
“If
you’re interested,” he said casually, “you may attend the department-head
briefing tomorrow morning.”
Jamie
sucked in a surprised breath. “Really?” The only briefings Jamie ever attended
were the ship-wide lectures open to the entire crew. Boring did not even begin to describe those
briefings.
But
a department-head briefing? With Mr. Spock and Commander Scott and all the
important people aboard ship? Wow!
That might be fun.
“It
won’t be very exciting,” Kirk warned.
“Why
are you letting me go?”
“Mostly
so I don’t have to explain tomorrow at supper why I’m in a worse mood than I am
in tonight.”
Jamie
giggled and took a taste of her ice cream. A department-head briefing. She
could hardly wait!
So,
this is a department-head briefing.
I guess I’ll add it to my list of boring things never to do on the Enterprise.
I wish I was in the gym.
Jamie tried to look
interested, but another yawn overtook her. She leaned back in her chair and
idly swung her feet back and forth as she listened to the Enterprise officers
and department heads talk about the upcoming assignment.
What
am I supposed to do during a department-head briefing? she wondered.
Then she caught First
Officer Spock’s amused glance and quickly thought, Probably remain very, very quiet.
During the past forty long
minutes, Jamie had learned that the Enterprise
was heading for Starbase 7 to pick up some important Federation types and the
newswoman, Nan Rushmore. Then they were going to a planet called Jovita to pick
up some more important people.
When everybody was aboard,
they were then heading to another planet for a trade show, where
hundreds and hundreds of vendors would gather to display their newest products
for the galaxy’s eager buyers.
Jamie wondered what those
vendors from Jovita would be showing off and selling. It must be something pretty special to be able to talk a starship into
hauling them there, she decided.
She glanced around the
conference table. Everyone was no doubt wondering why she was here. She felt
stupid sitting in an official meeting.
I probably look stupid
too, Jamie thought. The
captain’s right. This briefing is not very exciting. She made plans never
to attend another one.
“About these Seri Stones,
Captain,” Sulu suddenly asked.
Jamie perked up. Sulu always
asked interesting questions.
“Exactly what’s so great
about them that the Federation is working overtime to secure the trading rights
from the Jovitians?”
Good question, Sulu! Jamie had been wondering what a Seri
Stone was from the moment they’d been mentioned as the primary item of trade.
Mr. Spock inserted a data
disk into the reader. A video clip began to play, showing the most beautiful
gemstones Jamie had ever seen. Purple, yellow, red, blue. Then the scene
switched to an intricately cut Seri Stone.
Jamie caught her breath. The
cut gems hung like delicate, crystal snowflakes. As the light caught them,
patterns of vibrant colors bounced off the stones and dazzled her eyes. Wow!
“These are Ice Flakes, which
are cut from Jovita’s Seri Stones,” Spock explained. “Considered among the most
beautiful gems in the galaxy, Seri Stones, even in their uncut form, are twice
as valuable as diamonds. The cut stones—Ice Flakes—are worth ten times the
value of diamonds. They are cherished for their brilliant colors, their ability
to be cut into intricate patterns, and for their beauty.”
Uhura spoke up. “I’ve heard
of Ice Flakes, and I admit I would love to own one. They are quickly becoming a
coveted piece of jewelry for the wealthy. They’re gorgeous and cost a pretty
credit.”
Spock nodded. “They are
prized above all precious stones of the quadrant. Jovita has done its best to
keep them hidden away and under their control, but as with any well-kept
secret, the stones have made their way into the public eye. The Seri Stones, from
which the Flakes are cut, are mined only on Jovita, and the government has
guarded them jealously. Because of their beauty and rarity, the demand for Ice
Flakes is growing.”
“So, they’ve decided to get
rich off their Seri Stone trade?” Uhura asked.
Spock raised an eyebrow. “In
a manner of speaking. Although they would prefer to keep the gemstones to
themselves, they realize it is impossible.”
“And why is that, Mr.
Spock?”
“Jovita is wedged between
the Klingon Empire and the Federation. They can remain neutral no longer. The
Klingons are making a strong case for Jovita to become aligned with the Empire,
and thus gain control of the Seri Stone trade.”
Klingons! Icy fingers raced
up and down Jamie’s back. They wanted the Seri Stones too?
“I knew the Klingons would somehow come into this,” McCoy griped. “Why
would they be interested in baubles?”
Jamie, who was sitting next
to the good doctor, said under her breath, “They probably want them because we
want them.”
McCoy barked his laughter,
and Kirk’s eyebrows shot up. Laughing, the doctor repeated Jamie’s remark.
Smiles and chuckles circled the table.
“Regardless
of the reasons,” Spock continued, “it is important to keep the Seri Stones from
falling under Klingon control. While the Federation might be willing to allow Jovita
to keep control of their stones, it is a given that the Klingons will not. A
decision is being forced on the government of Jovita, and this trade conference
has been organized for just such an event.”
Kirk added to Spock’s
recitation. “With the Organian Peace Treaty hanging over our heads as an
ever-present reminder of our truce with the Empire, the trade conference will
be fraught with unseen tension. Each side will be focused on luring the Jovitians
to their sphere of influence.”
“So, we’re hauling a bunch
of important delegates to the trade show?” McCoy asked. “Both Federation
representatives and Jovitians?”
Kirk nodded. “So are the
Klingons. A Klingon ship will parallel us all the way to the trade show, and
there’s not a thing we can do about it.” His expression turned grim. “The
Klingon commander will certainly do his best to push us to the edge, begging us
to open fire on them, thus bringing the Organians rushing in. In that event, we
would forfeit our place at the trade show, and Jovita will become aligned with
the Empire.”
McCoy let out a disgusted
breath.
“Under no circumstances will
this ship fire on the Klingon vessel,” Kirk said. “I want that very clear. We
must be vigilant to protect our ship and the passengers we carry, without
allowing ourselves to become provoked.”
“Nothing’s ever easy,” McCoy
remarked.
“With the Klingons carrying
half the Jovitian delegation, they will have ample opportunity to persuade them
to their side,” Spock finished. “They can use no method other than verbal
persuasion, or they will be in danger of losing the trade.”
“That’s our only method
also,” Kirk said.
“It should be easy enough to
show the Jovitians the difference between the Klingon Empire and the
Federation,” McCoy said with a snort.
“I hope to make it even
easier,” Kirk said, smiling slyly. He held up a disk. “This came in this
morning over subspace. It contains the names of the Jovitians who were chosen by
lot to travel aboard the Enterprise. By sheer luck, our complement
includes Ben’yla, the regent of Jovita, and his young niece, Princess Meyla,
heir to the throne of her planet.
“Along with the message came
a request from Admiral Komack that I encourage Jamie to make friends with the
princess. I told him I’d explore the possibility.”
Jamie, who had been only
half-listening to the long, boring discussion about Klingons and Organians,
straightened up. “What?”
Kirk grinned. “I think it’s
about time you earned that cadet rank the admiral bestowed on you six months
ago.”
Jamie squirmed as every eye
in the room turned on her. “How do I make friends with a princess?”
“If you like, Mr. Tanzer
will help you think of interesting things to do with her. Other than that, just
be yourself. Enjoy her company and treat her like a friend.”
Easier
said than done. “What
if she doesn’t want to be friends?”
Kirk smiled his
understanding. “This is an important assignment for the Enterprise, but
you don’t have to accept it if you don’t feel comfortable. I can only ask that you
give it a try. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Admiral Komack, would you?”
“No, sir.” The admiral was
her hero for letting her stay aboard the ship.
“What’s there to
entertaining a princess?” Engineer Scott piped up. “You’ll win her over, lass.”
There were nods all around.
“You can do this, Cadet,”
Sulu chimed in.
Jamie sat up straighter. She
suddenly felt very important to be included in this briefing. They needed her
to help make a good impression on the Jovitians, so they would want to choose
the Federation to sell their fancy rocks. Could she do that?
Yes,
I can. I’m a real cadet now. Jamie
grinned. “You can count on me.”
Chapter 2
Jamie watched from across the room as the transporter shimmered and deposited five people on the platform—three men and two women. It wasn’t hard to figure out which of the five was the boss. The tall, silver-haired man stepped confidently from the transporter platform and reached out a friendly hand.
“Captain Kirk, I am Gerald
Grayson of the Federation Council. This is indeed an exciting day for the
Federation. I can’t wait to get hold of some of those Ice Flakes.”
Kirk shook the councilor’s
hand and smiled tightly. “Welcome aboard the Enterprise, sir. As for the Ice Flakes . . . that remains to be
seen, don’t you think?”
“How so, Captain?”
“Need I remind you that the
Klingons are also bartering for the Seri Stone trade?”
Grayson dismissed that idea
with a wave of his hand. “We’ll show those Klingon barbarians a thing or two
about the political process. Jovita will decide to align themselves with the
Federation or my name’s not Gerald Grayson.”
“You seem very sure,
Councilor.”
“Of course. Aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid that out here on
frontier the Klingons are more than just a political threat.”
Councilor
Grayson grunted to show the captain he disagreed. Then he reached into his
jacket and pulled out a portable reader. “By the way, Captain, your orders have
been modified.”
He passed the
reader to Kirk, who flipped it on and skimmed it as the councilor explained.
“As of 1500 hours today, I have been given direct authority over this mission.”
Kirk’s jaw tightened. “By
whose orders, sir?”
“The Council’s.” He smiled. “I
will not tell you how to run your ship or how to handle a military engagement
if we trade hostilities with the Klingons, but you are to submit to any
decisions regarding policy as it concerns the Jovitian delegation.”
While the haughty man told
her father things he clearly didn’t want to hear, Jamie studied the rest of the
people standing on the transporter platform. There were two important-looking
men wearing the colors of the Federation diplomatic corps, a tall, icy-faced
woman with a deep frown on her face, and a small, smiling woman holding a
recording device.
Jamie grinned in
recognition. It was Nan Rushmore.
“Verify these orders with
Starfleet as soon as possible, Mr. Spock,” Kirk was saying. He switched off the
reader and passed it to his first officer
“The verification is
unnecessary, Captain,” Grayson said, “and a waste of your officer’s time and
effort.”
“It is no effort,
Councilor,” Spock replied smoothly. “It is standard procedure aboard a
starship. I trust you will not be offended.”
Grayson grunted again,
obviously figuring that half a battle was better than none. “My personal aide,
Marrid Feldman,” he introduced the icy-faced woman.
“Greetings, Captain Kirk.”
Marrid Feldman stepped from the platform and regarded the captain with a
disapproving look. She was a handsome woman, with dark hair and dark eyes. Her
face seemed cut from alabaster. When she looked at Jamie, her frown deepened.
Jamie gulped. I bet that lady doesn’t like kids. She has
creepy eyes and—
She
caught herself before Mr. Spock noticed her instant dislike of the woman. He
would pull her aside for yet another logic lesson. It was illogical,
not to mention unfair, to judge a stranger by her eyes, but Jamie couldn’t help
it.
“Ms. Feldman is
indispensable to me,” Grayson explained with a smile. “A brilliant and cunning
mind inside her lovely head.”
“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Feldman,”
Kirk said.
“It will continue to be a
pleasure so long as you take your orders seriously, Captain.”
Grayson introduced the two
ambassadors to Jovita, Hart and Mason. Then he turned to the remaining woman.
“May I present Nan Rushmore from the Federation News Service.”
Nan came forward eagerly.
“I’m excited to be here, Captain.”
Kirk shook her hand, but
Jamie noticed his jaw tighten.
Why wasn’t he glad to see
her? Ms. Rushmore looked friendly. She was real pretty too. I like her! Jamie
winced. Another illogical conclusion. And yep, Mr. Spock is giving me his
Vulcan look.
Nan chuckled. “I can tell
you are not enthused about my visit, but I intend to win you over. There’s
nothing to fear from me, Captain Kirk. This ship has become a legend back home.
I feel privileged to come aboard and film the crew in action, especially with
this exciting trade conference.”
She leaned forward and
crooked a finger at the captain. He bent closer. “Do you suppose I might get a
chance to interview a Klingon? Perhaps the commander of the battle cruiser that
will be traveling alongside us?”
Kirk’s head jerked up. “I
assure you, Ms. Rushmore, that is the last thing you want.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Captain.
It would be my crowning achievement.”
“And quite possibly your
last.” Kirk’s frown told Jamie that Nan had better not ask to do that again.
“Allow me to introduce my
senior officers,” he said, smoothly changing the subject. There were
introductions all around.
Then he motioned Jamie
forward. “This is my daughter, Cadet Jamie Kirk. Admiral Komack has asked her
to extend a special welcome to the young princess of Jovita.”
Jamie had never, ever been
formally introduced to Federation bigwigs before. She felt about ten feet tall.
My daddy’s the captain, and I’m proud to be his daughter. She gave
everybody a winning smile.
Only Nan smiled back.
Everybody else stood silent, clearly surprised.
Nan reached out her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.”
Jamie beamed and shook her
hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Rushmore. I watch your news show all
the—”
“This is highly irregular,”
Marrid cut in. “The Council was not informed that a child would be
involved with such important proceedings.”
“We didn’t know which of the
Jovitians would be traveling aboard the Enterprise until two days ago,
ma’am,” Kirk explained.
Grayson frowned at Jamie
until she squirmed. “Well, I don’t like it. It’s most irregular. She’s too
young for such a task. Are you sure you have interpreted the admiral’s orders
correctly, Captain?”
“Admiral Komack is not in
charge of this mission,” Marrid reminded everyone. “The councilor is.”
“You are welcome to contact
Admiral Komack if these arrangements are not to your satisfaction,” Kirk said
tightly. “But until I hear otherwise from Starfleet, the admiral’s orders
stand.”
Before Marrid could come
back at him, he turned to Lt. Kyle. “Beam up their gear, Lieutenant.” He
crossed the room and punched the intercom. “This is the captain. Plot a course
for Eta Jovitae III. Warp 5. Then take us out of orbit.”
“Acknowledged.” There was a
pause. “Course plotted and laid in, sir.”
“Engage. Kirk out.” He
punched the intercom off and returned to his guests. “The quartermaster has
prepared cabins for you on Deck 4 in the VIP country. If you like, you can be
shown to your quarters immediately. Later, a tour of the ship will be arranged,
if you’re interested.”
“I’m very
interested, Captain,” Nan said, swinging her video camera into a comfortable
position.
“Ms. Rushmore, I would like
to see you in my office in one hour
to discuss the limitations on your recordings and to assign a liaison officer
to assist you during your stay aboard the Enterprise.”
“Captain Kirk, I understood I was to have full
access to—”
“I’m afraid not, ma’am. I
will be following my orders to the letter.” He let the unspoken implications
sink into Nan’s head. She seemed to deflate. “I’m sorry, Ms. Rushmore, but
that’s the way it has to be.”
Grayson indicated the
ambassadors. “We need a briefing before we arrive at Jovita, to familiarize
your crew with the protocol surrounding our important guests. There may be some
scheduling changes involved, certain amenities granted, etc. Ambassadors Mason
and Hart will conduct the briefing. They have spent the last eight years on Jovita
and are familiar with all aspects of their culture.”
Kirk nodded absently. “The
quartermaster will meet you on Deck 4 to escort you to your quarters. Let me
know when you’d like to schedule the briefing.”
“Excellent, Captain.”
Grayson smiled and shook Kirk’s hand. “The results of the briefing will be
posted for your crew?”
“Of course,” Kirk replied.
“We intend to make the very best impression on the Jovitians.” He glanced at
Nan. “Ask the quartermaster to point you to my office. “I need to check in on
the bridge, then I’ll see you there.”
Without waiting for a reply,
he turned to Jamie. “You’re dismissed, Cadet. Return to your duties.”
Jamie sighed. Her duties
meant schoolwork. “Aye, Captain.” She exited the transporter room in a hurry.
Chapter 3
The suggestions for making the Jovitians feel at home aboard the Enterprise spanned three pages of hard copy. It was posted in every rec hall, mess hall, briefing room, and in the crew’s quarters throughout the ship.
“What’s this?” Jamie took
the hard copy her father handed her and followed him toward the replicator for
supper the next evening.
“Protocol rules for the next
two weeks, starting tomorrow.” Kirk pulled two trays from the replicator and
made his way to an empty table.
Jamie plunked down in her
chair. “I have to read this by tomorrow?”
“You not only have to read
it, but you should also become familiar enough with it so you don’t make any
protocol mistakes that might offend our important guests.”
Jamie picked up a carrot.
She chewed thoughtfully as she scanned the second page. Then she gasped. “They
can’t really mean this.” She looked up. “Can they?”
“That’s exactly what I asked
Ambassador Mason. However, he assured me it was serious.”
“But, Daddy!” Jamie shoved
the paper under her father’s nose as he tried to take a bite of his supper. “It
says here that the entire ship has to change to a 30-hour day rather than a
24-hour day to accommodate our visitors. That’s silly.”
“You tell him, Jamie,” a
clear voice called from the next table. Lt. Kevin Riley shot her a grim smile.
It reflected the mood of the off-duty crew.
Kirk threw Riley a sharp
look. “Belay that, Lieutenant.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“And you, Cadet,”
Kirk continued, “eat your supper.”
Jamie speared a chunk of
meat and put it in her mouth, but supper had lost its appeal. She continued to
read the rules with growing dismay.
“Here’s a list of subjects
one must never discuss with the Jovitians.” She read a few sentences. “Why can’t we talk about the ‘exploration policies of the Federation
regarding the rim worlds of Beta Delphini?’”
She looked up, mystified.
“Not that I’d want to talk about it,
whatever it is, but why can’t we?”
“I have no idea.” Kirk took
a swallow of coffee and indicated her barely touched meal. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not anymore.” She sighed.
“Do you suppose Admiral Komack would be terribly disappointed if I decided not to meet the princess?”
Kirk laughed. “Don’t be
hasty, honey. I’ve found that many rules written on paper tend to mean less
once people meet in person. My advice is to give it a try with the princess and
see what happens.” He put his fork down. “By the way, Dr. McCoy has a subcutaneous
translator on hand for you. Better stop by sickbay in the morning and have the
good doctor insert it.”
Jamie made a face and rubbed
her wrist. “Those things sting when they go in. Why do I need one?”
“You want to be able to
understand what the princess is saying, don’t you? Since you’re an official
member of this team, you have to have one. Don’t forget.”
Jamie groaned. “Yes, sir.”
At that moment, the
recreation room doors slid open. Nan Rushmore, camera in hand, flowed smoothly
through the opening. A patient-looking lieutenant followed close behind. Nan
panned the area then began to focus on a small group of crewmen playing one of
Harb Tanzer’s more inventive holo-games.
Jamie’s eyes lit up at the
sight. “What’s she doing, Daddy?”
It was Kirk’s turn to groan.
“Recording. Remember the briefing?”
Jamie shrugged. She didn’t
remember more than a tenth of what the adults had been yapping about a week
ago. “Why iss Lt. Bailey tagging along behind her?”
Kirk grinned. “I assigned a
liaison officer to assist her in her recording efforts. I don’t want her
stumbling into restricted areas or showing up on the bridge during awkward
times.” Kirk’s smile grew wider. “She’s not very happy with the restrictions.”
Jamie followed the woman
with an intent gaze. “Why can’t she record what she likes?”
“Because she interferes with
the smooth operation of this ship. Frankly, she doesn’t need to know all of the
Enterprise’s secrets.”
“Captain Kirk!” Nan’s voice
rose over the soft babble of voices. “Good evening.” She hurried over with a
grin, Bailey close behind.
“Good evening, Ms.
Rushmore,” Kirk greeted her. He nodded at Bailey. “How’s the assignment coming
along, Lieutenant?”
“Very well, sir.”
Nan flicked him an irritated
glance and returned her gaze to the captain. “What luck to find you here. How
about an interview?”
“Not now, I’m afraid.” He
turned to Jamie. “We were just leaving.”
“We were?” Jamie said,
disappointed. She kind of liked the smile on the reporter’s face.
“Yes.” Kirk rose, but Nan
set her camera on the table.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” she
apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I’m just so excited about
being here. Please sit down. I promise I won’t even turn on my recorder if you
prefer. I really would like to ask you a few questions, just to satisfy my
curiosity.” She gave Jamie a warm smile. “Hello again.”
Jamie grinned. “Hi.”
Kirk sat down. “What do you
want to know?”
“Why are you
so opposed to having me aboard? I believe people have a right to know how their
taxes are being spent.”
“You’re referring to your
feature on the Enterprise?”
“Naturally. If there is
waste or poor judgment, or anything dangerous going on aboard this ship then—”
Jamie leaped to her feet.
“There’s nothing dangerous or wasteful aboard the Enterprise.”
Nan smiled at Jamie’s
remark. “Forgive me. I didn’t realize you were such a staunch supporter of
Starfleet.”
“The Enterprise is the best ship in the fleet, and she has the best
crew,” Jamie said, eyes flashing.
“May I quote you on that?”
Nan reached for her recorder.
“You may not,” Kirk broke
in. “Jamie, sit down.”
He turned to Nan. “I think
that’s enough for now, Ms. Rushmore. Perhaps when things settle down, I can
find time to grant you a short interview. I can’t promise anything more than
that.”
He rose and gathered up his
and Jamie’s trays. “I must make a final check on the bridge, so if you’ll
excuse me?”
“Fair enough. I’ll try to be
patient. In the meantime”—Nan glanced around the rec hall—“may I chat with your
crew? You did promise I might interview off-duty personnel.” She caught Jamie’s
hopeful expression and winked. “I could start with this young lady. She seems a
loyal supporter of your ship.”
Kirk saw Jamie’s pleading
look and sighed. “I guess it can’t hurt. If she wants to.”
“I do,” Jamie replied
instantly.
“All right, then. Good
evening to you both.” He bent down and whispered into Jamie’s ear, loudly
enough for Nan to hear, “Don’t give away any Enterprise secrets.”
“Sir!” Jamie’s eyes widened.
“I wouldn’t. Ever.”
Kirk ruffled Jamie’s hair
and headed for the door.
With her father out of the
way and Lt. Bailey happily exploring the replicator’s offerings, Jamie turned
around and faced the newswoman. She propped her elbows on the table and rested
her chin in her hands. “You have a nice smile, Ms. Rushmore.”
Nan laughed. “Do I now?
Thank you.”
“Do you like being a
reporter?”
“Very much. I get the
opportunity to meet so many different people.”
“You’re here to learn about
the crew of the Enterprise, aren’t
you?”
Nan held up her hands in
surrender. “Enough already. I’m supposed to be asking the questions, aren’t I?”
Jamie sat up. “Sorry. I
forgot. What do you want to know?”
“First question. Aren’t you
a little young to be a crewmember?”
Jamie sighed. “Yes, and it’s
six years until I can go to the Academy. It feels like forever.”
“But you’re here now,” Nan
said. “Which brings me to my next question. What are you doing here?”
Jamie launched into a brief
but thorough history of how she had suddenly found herself aboard the flagship
of the Federation. During her recital, Lt. Bailey joined them at the table, a
chicken sandwich on his tray.
“And now I’m an official
Starfleet cadet,” Jamie finished with pride. “Admiral Komack said so.”
“I remember that,” Nan said.
“It was at the Crynn Conference out on Babel six months ago. A very frightening
time. You and those other children were very brave.” She smiled. “The Enterprise
sounds like an exciting place to live, Jamie, but don’t you miss others
your own age?”
“Sometimes. But the only way
to be with other kids is to go to school, and I’d never do that. There’s
lots to see and do aboard ship. I’m never lonely.” Jamie glanced at the
reporter’s recording device. “Have you recorded much of the ship yet?”
“Not yet. Lieutenant Bailey
is not very forthcoming with his tours.” She gave him a pointed look.
“Would you like me to
show you around?” Jamie turned to Bailey. “If it’s all right with you, of course.”
Bailey shrugged his consent.
Nan smiled. “I can’t think
of anyone else who could give me such a unique perspective on things.” She
leaned across the table. “Are you available right now?”
Jamie nodded. “For another
hour, anyway. Then I’m heading to the Rec Deck. Lieutenant Uhura is giving a
concert tonight. She talked Mr. Spock into letting her play his Vulcan lyrette.
I don’t want to miss it.”
She reached out and slipped her hand into the
reporter’s hand, much to Nan’s surprise and pleasure.
“I’ll take you on my own
special tour, and then we’ll end up at the Rec Deck just in time for the show.
Would you like that?”
Nan nodded. “I would be
delighted if you introduced me to some of the off-duty crew.”
“Oh, we’ll have a fine time,
Ms. Rushmore. C’mon.”
Bailey stood up. “Lead the
way, Cadet.”
Chapter 4
“Captain Kirk!” Grayson
cornered the captain on his way to the hangar deck the following morning.
“Councilor Grayson, what can
I do for you?”
“It’s this blasted
translation device.” He shoved a sleeve of his elegant cloak up to reveal his
lower arm. “It stings like the dickens.” Indeed, the man’s arm was beginning to
show a red ring around the insertion site.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Kirk said.
“I’ve never heard of a reaction like that. Maybe you’re allergic to the device.
You might ask my medical officer about it. I can’t think why you haven’t done
so already.”
“I stopped by sickbay, but
he wasn’t in. I’m hoping to catch him here.”
“He’ll be along.” Kirk
couldn’t help feeling a bit gratified at the man’s discomfort. It was
unprofessional, but Grayson seemed so confident about everything. Kirk figured
a little uncertainty might be good for his soul.
And if he was allergic to
the device? Kirk stifled a grin. In that case, the councilor would be stuck
having to carry a cumbersome translator around his neck for two weeks. He
decided to leave all such details to McCoy, who would certainly appreciate the
humor.
“Humph.” Grayson grunted and
entered the hangar bay airlock with the captain. “Another thing, Captain. I
want to make sure those flyers were distributed among your crew.”
“They were.”
“And the day/night
modification. Is it being initiated?”
“Over a period of three
days, beginning today. Today will be 26 hours long, tomorrow 28, and the next
day the entire 30 hours. We will have five, 6-hour rotations instead of the
usual three, 8-hour shifts.” He shrugged. “It will be an inconvenience, but I
see no real problems.”
“You are being very
cooperative, Captain.”
Kirk stopped and looked at
the councilor. “I might remind you that we’re all on the same side here. I want
this mission to succeed as much as you do. Whatever I can do, so long as it
does not compromise the safety of my ship and crew, I will do to make this
assignment succeed.”
Grayson regarded Kirk with
obvious surprise. “Of course, Captain. I’d just heard . . . Well, there’s talk
about your dislike for dealing with politics.”
Kirk nodded. “That’s true. I
don’t like the fact that you have authority over this mission, but I know how
to follow orders. However, if there is even a hint of my ship being
compromised, I will become very uncooperative.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,”
Grayson replied softly.
Kirk glanced
at his chronometer. “It’s 1050, Councilor. I expect the shuttlecrafts will be
arriving at any moment.”
It wasn’t long before the
signal came that the two shuttlecrafts had entered the hangar deck, and the
area was pressurized. The doors opened. Kirk and Grayson entered the hangar
deck, followed in quick succession by officers, ambassadors, and aides.
It was quite a party. Kirk’s
senior officers were dressed in their Class A uniforms. Grayson’s aide, Ms.
Feldman, wore the brilliant colors of a fall morning back on Earth. Her hair
had been let down for this occasion, and no one could fail to admire her beauty
and poise as she joined the councilor on deck.
Ambassadors Mason and Hart
were resplendent in the blues and whites of the Federation Diplomatic Corp. Nan
Rushmore was dressed stunningly in mauves and grays. Her recording device was
hidden in the folds of her outfit.
At
least she knows how to be discreet,
Kirk mused. She caught his look and gave him a wide smile. I wonder what she and Jamie chatted about last night.
“This is going to look great
on the net,” she whispered to the captain, coming alongside him. “Royalty, a
trade conference—just the PR the public eats up. Ceremony and pomp make great
copy.”
“I’m glad we’re able to
accommodate you.” He gave the woman a curious glance. “Did you and Jamie have a
nice chat last evening?”
“Delightful, Captain. Thank
you for your permission. Your daughter is a charming little girl, and she
certainly knows a lot about the ship. She took me on her own special tour. It
was most enlightening. I must confess I’m at a loss to know how you’ve managed
to keep her on board all this time.”
“We’ve worked it out,” Kirk
replied absently.
“Obviously, it’s none of my
business,” Nan said, clearly undaunted.
“You’re right, Ms.
Rushmore.” He turned and waved at McCoy, who was just entering the hangar deck.
“Bones, over here.”
“Call me Nan,” the newswoman
said. “I told Jamie to.”
“What exactly did you pry out of her, Ms. Rushmore?”
“Plenty.” She held up her
hands to ward off the dangerous glint in Kirk’s eyes. “No Enterprise secrets,
I promise. She’s one of the easiest children I’ve ever interviewed. And believe
me, Captain, I’ve interviewed hundreds of kids. Your crew seems to adore her.
She’s friendly, well behaved, and quite precocious. She doesn’t seem to notice
or care about the lack of peers her own age aboard.”
By now, McCoy had joined
them and was nodding. “Jamie’s captured your heart too, eh, Ms. Rushmore?” He
folded his arms across his chest and smiled.
“Yes, Doctor. I see no
reason why families should be separated on these long voyages, especially when
Starfleet continually insists their ships are primarily exploratory vessels and
not military.”
She gave Kirk a pointed
look, but he said nothing.
“I hear the Federation is
considering going forward with their galaxy-class starships in the next fifty
or sixty years,” Nan went on. “I wonder who they will get to sign on if they
know it means separation from their families for ten years or more at a time.”
“You seem well-informed
about Starfleet’s future plans,” Kirk said.
“Perhaps that’s why no one
in your Admiralty has pressured you to ship your daughter off to school
somewhere,” Nan suggested.
“If you’re suggesting
Jamie’s some kind of guinea pig for Starfleet, I’d advise you to let it drop.”
Nan smiled. “Of course.” She
lifted her camera. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to find the best position to
film our guests’ arrival.” She hurried away.
Kirk turned to McCoy.
“Speaking of Jamie, where is she? Did you insert her translator?”
McCoy shook his head.
“That’s why I’m late. Wasn’t she supposed to drop by sickbay this morning and
take care of that? I waited as long as I could before coming down here.”
Kirk sighed. He’d told Jamie
to report to the sickbay at 1030 sharp, dressed in her best and ready to
accompany the doctor to meet the princess. Obviously, she was delayed.
“Great,” he muttered.
“What’s happened to her this time?”
Jamie scrambled around her
cabin, frantically searching for her missing shoe. Where can it be? She glanced at the chronometer once more. 1100. Boy, am I ever going to get it!
She
knew she should have been ready long before now, but she’d become absorbed in a
book, and when she glanced at the time, it had read 1030. She’d thrown on her
clothes and brushed out her hair. Then she’d spent the past ten minutes
searching for the only good pair of dress shoes she owned. She’d found one of
them, but the other shoe was missing.
Jamie glanced in the mirror.
She didn’t exactly present the picture of someone about to meet the princess of
a soon-to-be important member-planet of the Federation. Unruly golden waves
settled wherever they wished. Her face was flushed, knowing how late she was,
and her new, blue party dress looked silly with one shoe on and one shoe off.
“What am I going to do?” She
stared at her reflection a few moments longer then kicked off the remaining
shoe. “Better no shoes than one shoe.” She smoothed down her dress and pulled
up her white tights to remove the wrinkles.
It
isn’t much of an improvement,
she decided and headed out the door.
Jamie ran toward the
turbolift, but the tights made her feet slippery, and she slid part way.
Slowing down to a fast walk, she stumbled into the ’lift and gasped, “Hangar
deck!”
The ’lift whooshed its way
down, but by the time Jamie found a chronometer, she was ready to admit defeat.
It was 1110, and she was very
late.
Chapter 5
Councilor Grayson scowled at
the captain and scratched viciously at the offending subcutaneous translating
device. “This thing is driving me crazy, Doctor.”
McCoy tried his best to look
concerned, but his blue eyes twinkled. “I’m sorry, Councilor. Stop by sickbay
right after the welcoming ceremony. I’ll remove it and have ship stores issue
you a hand-held translator.”
Grayson grunted his reply
and turned to the shuttles. “Well? Are the Jovitians to be kept waiting aboard
your shuttlecrafts all day?”
“No, indeed.” Kirk nodded to
the guard nearest the Columbus, and
the door opened. The next moment, the door to the Boyle also opened.
Twelve people descended each
of the short ramps and stood regally, awaiting introductions. Captain Kirk, Mr.
Spock, Councilor Grayson, Ms. Feldman, and the two ambassadors approached
respectfully and made the proper greetings. McCoy moved swiftly among the Jovitians,
injecting the subcutaneous translators for their entire party.
Kirk observed the group as
Ambassador Hart began to speak to the Jovitians in their own language. Thanks
to McCoy’s work, Kirk understood every word.
The ambassador’s speech
dragged on and on. It was full of flowery words, and the adults in the party
smiled and nodded at all the right places.
The princess, however,
seemed bored and disinterested. She stood in the front, a forced smile on her
pretty face. If she’d been expecting an exciting trip into outer space, she was
apparently realizing a starship was about as exciting as a trip into her own
backyard.
Suddenly, the look on the
princess’s face changed to one of surprise and amusement. Coming across the
deck of the immense hangar bay was a small figure in blue and white. She
half-ran, half-slipped toward the party.
Kirk’s eyes widened. It
wasn’t difficult to notice the missing shoes.
Conversation ceased. No one
said a word as Jamie ran the last few steps to her father, slipped, and fell.
Kirk caught her just in
time. “Where in blue blazes have you been?” he whispered. “Where are your
shoes?”
“I don’t know.” Jamie looked
ready to cry. “I’m sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find my other shoe.”
“Well, it’s too late to
worry about it now.”
Ben’yla, head of the
Jovetian council and uncle to the princess smiled at the pair. “My niece is
eager to become acquainted with the newest addition to the ceremony, Captain
Kirk.”
Kirk placed both hands
firmly on Jamie’s shoulders and spun her around. “May I present my daughter,
Jamie.”
“The princess of the Western
Realm of Jovita, Meyla T’ran di Carinis, heir of the domain of our planet,”
Ben’yla said.
“I am delighted to meet you,
Jamie,” Meyla said in a light, lilting voice. “Your presence is the most
exciting thing to happen all morning.”
Jamie stepped forward and
curtsied, bravely trying to keep from bursting into tears. She saw the
amusement in the princess’s eyes. She felt the astonished looks of the adults
and knew she’d somehow committed a grave breach of protocol. Worst of all, she didn’t
understand a single word the princess was saying.
“Jamie,” Kirk whispered, “say
something to the princess.”
Jamie looked around
helplessly, first at Kirk then at McCoy. “I can’t.”
With a sudden look of
understanding, the good doctor made his way to Jamie and pulled out his
hypo-spray. “This’ll take just a second, honey.”
Jamie held out her arm and
squeezed her eyes shut. She jumped when the cold metal touched her skin, but
she said nothing.
Councilor Grayson, on the
other hand, had plenty to say. “Captain Kirk, I am appalled at such a show of
discourtesy.”
Jamie cringed. She felt her
father’s grip tighten on her shoulders.
“On the contrary,
Councilor,” Meyla broke in, “Jamie has shown no disrespect. It is a sign of
deepest honor to remove your shoes before coming into the presence of royalty.
Is that not so, Uncle?” She looked at Ben’yla.
Ben’yla nodded. His eyes
twinkled merrily.
“None of this was mentioned
in the protocol briefs we reviewed, Guardian,” Grayson said.
“I’ve never heard of this
custom,” Ambassador Hart added.
“It’s clear you don’t know
everything about the Royal Court of Jovita,” Meyla stated frostily.
“I stand corrected.” Hart
bowed and stepped back.
Meyla turned to Jamie and
smiled. Then she asked her uncle, “When can we get settled so that I might
spend time with my new friend?”
“Give the word, Meyla.”
“Consider it given, Uncle.”
Meyla looked up at the captain. “I would like Jamie to help me settle in. Is
this allowed?”
“Yes.” The Kirk addressed
Ben’yla. “There will be a formal reception for the representatives of the trade
delegation and the royal family of Jovita tonight at 2000 hours. We hope you
will accept our invitation.”
“I am delighted to do so,”
Ben’yla replied. “Meyla has so few friends her own age. I am pleased to see
this trip may be a positive experience for her.” He turned to his niece. “She
may show you to our quarters.”
Meyla’s face shone with
delight. “Truly? By ourselves? No protocol keepers to follow me around?”
Ben’yla laughed. “I think
you will be safe from breaking the rules of protocol for the time being. I’m
sure the captain’s daughter will not lead you astray in the short time you will
be together, will you, child?”
“Oh no, sir,” Jamie assured
him “If it’s any help, I’ve read those pages and pages of rules and regulations
my dad posted all over the ship.”
“Rules?” Ben’yla frowned his
confusion.
“Yeah. So I don’t say stuff
that might offend you or something. But there sure were a lot of them.
Especially the ones about—”
“Jamie,” Kirk warned.
Ben’yla laughed heartily.
“Captain Kirk, your daughter is delightful. Meyla needs such a diversion during
these trying times on our planet. I never dreamed of such an excellent
arrangement. Did you fetch her for this occasion, or does she stay here on a
permanent basis?”
“Semi-permanent, sir,” Kirk
said, “And I’m glad she meets with your approval—”
“Captain,” Marrid’s frosty
voice cut in, “I do not find this arrangement satisfactory at all.”
Kirk and Ben’yla turned as
one.
“In what way, ma’am?”
Meyla’s uncle asked.
Marrid glared at Jamie, who
drew back and clutched her father’s hand. “The young princess associating with
a common and—if I may say so—impetuous child? The princess needs the most
careful handling, the kind of handling for which we’ve all been highly trained
and—”
Ben’yla held up his hand to
stop the flow of words. “This is not a matter for Federation representatives or
diplomats to decide. This is a matter between families. I approve,
and the captain approves. So, it is settled.”
An
uncomfortable silence descended over the group, but there was no doubt who had
the final word.
Marrid gave Ben’yla a slight
bow. “Of course, sir.”
“Jamie,” Kirk said quickly,
“show the princess to her quarters.”
“Aye, sir,” she replied,
holding out her hand. “C’mon, Princess Meyla. I know the fastest way to get
there.”
With that, they were gone.
Chapter 6
Jamie and Meyla flitted from
table to table, sampling exotic treats and trying to stay out of the grownups’
way. It hadn’t taken long for the two girls to discover they enjoyed each
other’s company. They had been inseparable all evening, much to the obvious
disapproval of Councilor Grayson and his grouchy aide, Ms. Feldman.
The newswoman, Nan Rushmore,
had followed the girls around until the princess finally excused herself and
ducked into the bathroom.
“Is she gone yet?” Meyla
poked her elfin head through the doorway.
Jamie stood just outside the
head, lost in laughter. This princess was so funny! Meyla was a year or two
older than Jamie, but the two of them had hit it off right away.
All Jamie’s worries about
befriending a princess vanished a few minutes after meeting her. “I think so.
Why don’t you want to talk to her?”
Meyla removed herself from
the bathroom and smoothed her beautiful clothes into order. “I’m tired of being
on display. Someone is always trying to speak to me, to get into my good
graces, to petition me for some favor or another. I want to have a good time
for a change and ignore every rule of protocol ever invented.”
Jamie bit her lip. “I don’t
think that’s a good idea. Councilor Grayson and the ambassadors, not to mention
my dad, have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we all know how to act
around you and your people. What will they think if you start acting differently?”
Meyla sighed. “You’re right,
of course. Why are grownups always so concerned about correct behavior?”
Jamie shook her head. “I
don’t know. They just are.” Then she smiled. “But I’m glad the biggest protocol
mistake of my life turned out okay. When I couldn’t find my shoes this morning,
I didn’t know what to do.”
Meyla giggled. “I only said
that to keep you from being embarrassed.”
Jamie gaped at her. “You
mean all that stuff about being shoeless was made up? It’s not especially respectful and all that?”
“Of course, I made it up.
But Uncle went along with it because he saw the Federation official was just
aching to yell at your father about it.”
Jamie felt her cheeks flame.
“What happens when they—”
“Think of it no longer,
Jamie. Promise me you’ll treat me like any other friend. When we’re together,
let’s pretend I’m not a princess.”
Jamie’s eyes grew round with
concern. “I don’t know, Meyla. This trade conference is pretty important.”
“I realize that. When we’re
with the others, we’ll have to act more formally. But at other times . . .” Her
voice trailed off in silent hope.
“All right. Does that mean I
don’t have to let you win if we play a game?”
Meyla’s laugh was like a
little bird’s. “Of course not! Why? Do you like to play games?”
“Yes. Do you?”
“It’s one of my favorite
pastimes.”
Jamie looked around the
crowded room. “Listen, if we can get to the other side of the rec hall without
being stopped, I’ll teach you how to play chess—3D chess.”
“I would be delighted.”
The two girls smothered
their grins and started across the room. They bowed and acknowledged the
courtiers, ambassadors, and Enterprise
crew with the utmost decorum as they crossed the room. The girls received looks
of approval and a wave from Ben’yla.
Jamie reached a quiet alcove
and pulled Meyla into it. “They stuffed the games into these storage cabinets.”
Soon, a three-dimensional
chess set sat between the girls, and Jamie was teaching her friend the
placement and moves of all of the pieces.
Meyla and Jamie sprawled out
on the floor, all propriety forgotten as they discarded their shoes for comfort
and sat cross-legged.
They were deeply involved in
their second game of chess when a horrified voice boomed from above. “What are you doing?”
The girls looked up. Marrid
Feldman hung over them, her face contorted in icy shock and anger.
Jamie knew Ms. Feldman
didn’t like her. She’d seen the mean look the woman gave her on the hangar deck
earlier in the day, when she saw Jamie without shoes. She’d heard her unkind
words about not wanting Jamie to influence the princess.
“We’re playing chess,” Jamie
said in a small voice. She glanced at Meyla, who said nothing.
Marrid Feldman crossed her
arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “I can see that. It disturbs me to find
you hiding in a corner with the princess of Jovita, engaged in questionable
activities. You clearly do not understand the seriousness of this mission. You
are not on a holiday here and are not to be bothering the princess. She is
involved in very important matters that concern the Federation and Jovita. I,
for one, will not see this opportunity thrown away by childish foolishness.”
She waved a hand over the
game. “Look at you! Teaching the princess to sit on the floor like a common
child. It is shameful.”
“Do not speak to my friend
so,” Meyla said.
Ms. Feldman stiffened.
“Forgive me, Princess, but my only concern is for your welfare.” She turned to
Jamie. “I will stay with the princess for now. You are dismissed.”
Jamie clamped her jaw shut to
keep from talking back. Even though she deserves it. Smarting off to
this woman would end her friendship with the princess, shame her father, and
probably make Admiral Komack regret he had made her a Starfleet cadet in the
first place.
The best time to keep
silent is when you are angry.
Mr. Spock’s logic lesson
tickled at the back of Jamie’s mind and cooled her off faster than a bucket of
ice water. Well, she would show Ms. Feldman! She would not let her win. For
sure the woman wanted Jamie to lose her temper, so she’d have an excuse to keep
Meyla away.
Jamie looked at Meyla, who
seemed startled at Ms. Feldman’s cruel words. “I guess I’d better go. Maybe
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Meyla nodded, tongue-tied.
It was clear she did not know how to respond to what might very well be a
cultural taboo of the Federation. “I will try to arrange a time when we can be
together,” she offered.
Jamie wandered through the
rec hall, suddenly tired. It had been a long day and an even longer evening.
Ms. Feldman’s ordering her around had made her angry, but she couldn’t talk
back. Not even one time. Jamie wanted to be a good example to Meyla. She wanted
her father’s mission to succeed.
I
just wish Ms. Feldman would leave Meyla and me alone.
The intercom whistled, and
Jamie looked up. Her father strolled over and punched it. “Kirk here.”
“This is Hanson, sir. Gamma
shift bridge officer. You wanted to be informed when ship’s sensors picked up
the Klingon ship.”
“Bearing and speed?”
“Paralleling us at 500,000
kilometers. He’s running with shields down, as we are, and seems to be minding
his own business.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Shall I go to yellow alert,
sir?”
Kirk considered. “For now,
no. But if the Klingon ship moves one kilometer closer, notify me at once and
go to yellow alert. No matter how peaceful this mission is supposed to be, I
prefer not to be caught napping.”
“Very good, sir. Hanson
out.”
Kirk punched the intercom.
He saw Jamie and waved her over. “Having a good time?”
“I was until Ms. Feldman
came over and told me to leave.”
Kirk put an arm around
Jamie. “That woman is determined to make this trip miserable. But don’t you
worry about her or the councilor. Remember, you have your orders from
Starfleet. Be polite, but don’t let them bully you.”
“Aye, sir.” Jamie leaned her
head against her father’s chest and looked up into his face. “I heard you
talking to the bridge. Are the Klingons going to bother us?”
“Probably. But I can handle
the Klingons. They’re predictable.” He bent down to Jamie’s level. “It’s
Federation councilors and other deskbound paper-pushers who give me a
bellyache. One never knows when they’re going to strike next.” He reached out
and tickled her.
Jamie giggled.
A few heads turned.
Councilor Grayson’s was one of them. He scowled in clear disapproval.
“We are being watched,” Kirk
whispered in Jamie’s ear. He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s not a Klingon.
Not a Gorn or a Tholian. It’s . . . it’s . . . oh no! It’s a Federation
diplomat. We’re doomed!”
Jamie laughed. Sometimes
Daddy was so funny!
Councilor Grayson crossed
the room and regarded Kirk with annoyance. “It’s very late, Captain. Shouldn’t
children be in bed at this hour?” He glared at Jamie, who quickly muffled her
laughter.
Kirk kept Jamie in a tight
embrace. “I’ll take it under advisement, Councilor.”
The councilor nodded and
turned away.
“That man doesn’t like me,”
Jamie said.
“It’s not that,” Kirk
assured her. “He just doesn’t like the fact that you have free access to the
princess. He’d rather be able to influence her and her uncle directly, rather
than leave it to you. Councilor Grayson isn’t happy unless he’s personally running
everyone’s business, especially that of the Royal House of Jovita, and,
unfortunately, mine as well.”
Kirk glanced at his
chronometer. “But Councilor Grayson is right, I’m afraid. I know you haven’t
adjusted to a 30-hour day yet, so it’s off to bed with you. It’s very late ship
time.”
“Yes, sir,” Jamie agreed.
She was exhausted, and bed seemed like an excellent idea. She threw her arms
around her father’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, Daddy. I
love you.”
“I love you too, Cadet.” He
winked. “And I’ll keep the Klingons away all night.”
Chapter 7
The intercom shattered what
remained of the captain’s sleep. He sat up groggily and flipped the switch.
“Kirk here.”
He checked the time: 0400
Jovetian time. It was still another two hours until he had to report for his
shift. He didn’t even know what time that corresponded to in “real” ship’s
time. He just knew he wasn’t fully awake.
“Martenson here, sir.” The
smiling, cheerful face of the epsilon watch officer filled the tiny screen.
“We’ve got company. The Klingon commander wants to speak with you.”
Kirk sighed. “I’ll be right
there, Lieutenant. Hold him off if you can.”
“Mr. Spock just showed up,
Captain. Perhaps—”
“No. I’m awake. Tell Spock
I’m on my way.”
A few minutes later, still
yawning but holding a cup of coffee, Captain Kirk entered the bridge.
Martenson quickly rose from
the center chair and moved to the railing. He was an energetic-looking young
officer, fresh-faced and raring to go. The newly created epsilon shift gave him
the bridge experience he had been hoping for, and the lieutenant was in high
spirits.
“It’s Commander Kor,
Captain, of the Korbin. He wants to
exchange greetings with you.”
Kirk stared at his young
officer. “Greetings?”
“That’s what he said, sir.”
Kirk cleared his throat and
turned to the communication’s officer. It was one of Uhura’s trainees, a young
woman with reddish-blond hair. “Open hailing frequencies, Ensign Frazier.”
The screen flickered until
the familiar face of Commander Kor filled it.
“Greetings, Captain.” Kor
said. “We meet again, but alas, not for battle.”
Kirk sipped his coffee. “No,
Kor. This time our governments will be trading words instead of phaser fire. A
nice change, don’t you agree?”
“I prefer a good, honest
battle, as I know you do also, Kirk.” He shook his head mournfully. “I still
say Organia would have been an ideal base.”
“Too bad the Organians
wouldn’t let us fight. But that was over two years ago. Old business.” Before
Kor could respond, Kirk continued. “So, Commander, what do you want so early in
the morning?”
“Is it early? I hadn’t
noticed. We Klingons have no need for excessive periods of time devoted to
rest.”
“Get to the point, Kor. You
dragged me out of bed, so there better be a good reason for this conversation.”
Kor smiled his exasperating
Klingon grin. “I thought since we were in the neighborhood, it would be best to
reassure each other of our peaceful intentions. Our ships carry valuable
passengers, do they not? Neither of us can afford to irritate the other and
thus incur the wrath of the Organians.”
“My screens are down, as are
yours. That shows my peaceful intentions. I would recommend, however, that you
keep your distance. I would especially appreciate it if you stay out of firing
and transporter range.”
“But of course, Captain. Our
governments have made it very clear. This voyage is to be free from any
exchange of hostilities.” Kor looked disappointed. “As much as it pains me not
to engage you in honorable warfare, I will follow my government’s instructions.”
“As will I. Do your best to
convince your shipload of Jovitians to accept your Empire’s offer, while we
will do our best to convince our shipload of guests to embrace the
Federation’s offer. In the end, however, it is the Jovitians’ decision, is it
not?”
“Indeed.” Kor glanced
off-screen then smiled at Kirk. “Unless you have something you wish to discuss
with me, I shall take my leave.”
The screen went blank.
Kirk leaned back in his
chair, wondering what in the world that was all about. Kor had been
polite. Too polite.
“This had better not happen
very often, K’traz.”
Commander Kor of the
imperial battle cruiser ISS Korbin
stormed from his chair when the communication with the Federation captain
ended. He crossed the command pit and stood before a tall, scowling Klingon.
“Kirk is many things, but a
fool he is not. Too many of these friendly little chats and the human will get
suspicious.” He narrowed his eyes at the pompous Klingon diplomat standing on
his bridge.
“There are few things more
dangerous in this galaxy than a suspicious starship commander, especially that
one.” He pointed in the direction of his ship’s view screen.
“Calm
yourself, Commander.” K’traz crossed his muscular arms over the front of his
ceremonial robes. He was an important representative of the minority faction of
the Council back on Kronos, and it was clear to Kor that K’traz didn’t care who
knew it. “Earthers are all alike, soft-bellied, war-shy, peace mongers. You
excite yourself for no reason.”
Kor faced the much-taller K’traz
and barely held his temper. It irritated him that the Council had chosen this p’tak
Klingon to oversee this mission. “This is my
ship, and I’ll get as excited as I like. Kirk’s different. If you still had
command of your own vessel and patrolled the sector like the rest of us, you’d
learn a little respect for him, and others like him. The Enterprise is not a scout ship, and Kirk is not afraid of battle.
Remember that.”
K’traz looked down at his
data pad. “Your communication with Kirk was hardly sufficient to accomplish
what I need. Next time, you must keep him in conversation longer.”
Kor snorted. “Next time? I
have no reason to hail him again. Talking to him irritates me, and I might take
a shot at his ship.” He sighed. “She’s a beautiful target out there, sitting
unprotected, ready for just one disruptor blast. A Klingon commander’s dream .
. .” His voice trailed off.
“You are aware of what will
happen if we take any direct action against that ship. First, the Organians
intervene and remove all claim we have to the planet Jovita. Next—”
“You needn’t remind me,
K’traz. It was just a lovely thought.” He glared at his government’s
representative to the trade conference. “As if your plan has a better
chance of succeeding?” He snorted and returned to his chair. “What did you
learn while I was distracting the captain’s communications so you could send
and receive a signal from our operative?”
K’traz smiled. “Our agent
aboard the Enterprise is completely
above suspicion. No one suspects that the Jovitians’ confidence in the
Federation’s ability to protect them will soon be shattered. When our agent
gets through with Captain Kirk and his crew, the Jovitians who are left alive
aboard the Enterprise will be begging
to beam aboard the Korbin. Jovita will be ours.”
“You learned all this in a
three-minute communication?”
K’traz nodded. “I wish I
could be there to see the plan go into effect. In a few short days, our victory
over the Federation will be secured, without a single shot being fired.”
“I don’t know, K’traz.” Kor
was doubtful. “The Earthers are not as stupid as they appear. Your agent must
be very, very good to be able to accomplish something so blatant, and right
under Kirk’s nose. Care to share any of the details?”
“No, I do not. But rest
assured, Kor, my agent is the best.” K’traz smirked. “It will be glorious!”
Chapter 8
Meyla answered the door chime to the VIP quarters, her face set in a pout. “Where have you been the last couple of days, Jamie? Don’t you want to see me anymore?”
“I came to find out the same
thing about you,” Jamie said. “Mr. Tanzer told me that every time he tries to
arrange an activity for us, something comes up.”
Meyla motioned Jamie into
her quarters. “The same thing has been happening to me too. I’ve had to attend
countless sessions of the most boring things you could imagine. When I have
free time, your recreation chief says you’re not available.”
“It’s like . . .” Jamie
paused. “It’s like somebody’s trying to keep us apart.”
“Why can’t the grownups mind
their own business?” Meyla asked.
Jamie laughed. “Because you are
their business, I guess.”
Meyla smiled and pulled her
friend farther into the room. It had been decorated to resemble a luxurious
apartment suite.
Jamie looked around in
astonishment. “You get this all to yourself?”
“My uncle shares this suite.
His sleeping quarters are off to the left. My attendants share a compartment
over there.” She pointed to another room. “And those are my sleeping quarters.”
“Wow. I didn’t know they
could do things like this to a VIP cabin.”
“I’m enjoying the
accommodations very much. Look, Jamie.” Meyla pointed out the food replicator
around the corner, near Ben’yla’s bedroom. “This machine is a wonder.”
Jamie agreed. “All the VIP
cabins have ’em. It’d sure be nice to have one in my cabin. I could figure out
how to order a sundae any time I wanted.”
“What’s a sundae?” Meyla
asked.
“Something very good.” She
held up a square disk. “My dad had a couple of them added to my diet card.
Later, I’ll program one for you to try.”
“That would be fun.” Meyla led
Jamie to the middle of suite. “But first I would like to teach you a Jovitian
game. It’s an ancient game, one of strategy and chance. I think you’ll like
it.”
The princess clapped her
hands, and a young woman brought out a long, beautifully carved board. It
consisted of seven holes opposite each other. A large hole sat at each end.
Jamie looked at it with interest.
“Thank you, Chari.” Meyla
waved her attendant away. Then she opened a container and poured out dozens and
dozens of small, smooth, round stones of various colors. They sparkled under
the cabin lights.
Jamie squealed. “Oh! What
are they?”
“They’re the game pieces. We
put seven stones in each hole except the large, end holes. That’s ‘home.’ Then
we take turns trying to win each other’s stones by dropping them around and
around. The winner is the one who gains all of the stones.”
“But what kind of stones are
they? They look like gems.”
“They’re Seri Stones, ones
not suitable for cutting into Ice Flakes.”
“Seri Stones! They must be
worth a fortune.”
“Of course, they are. What
else would a princess play with? This game has been in the Royal Family for
hundreds of years. Although these stones cannot be cut into Flakes, they are
still priceless.”
Jamie swallowed her
amazement and gathered her playing pieces to distribute among the holes. The
Seri Stones fell from her hand in a cascade of blues, greens, violets, reds and
yellows. It was pure joy to feel the smoothness of the stones as Jamie moved them
from hole to hole. It was music to hear them tinkle when they dropped on top of
each other.
The game was easy to learn
but difficult to play, and Jamie found herself completely absorbed in the
gaining and losing of the stones.
Meyla kept up a running
commentary about the history of the game. “In the beginning, a player brought
his or her own Seri Stones. Whoever won the game also won the opponent’s
wealth. In those days, games were played with Seri Stones worth much more than these.
A person could win or lose an entire fortune in a few hours.”
“What’s the name of this
game?”
“It’s got some long,
fashionable name, but everyone calls it the Stone Game. Do you like it?”
Jamie nodded and scooped up
another hole’s worth of Meyla’s stones. She poured them into her home, patting
them as they filled the large hole almost to the top. “I almost wish the old
rules applied. I’d love to win such pretty rocks.”
“You would have to put up
your own stones to begin with.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess you’re
right.” Jamie sighed. “And I haven’t any Seri Stones. Just an ol’ rock
collection.”
Meyla looked at her own
dwindling supply of Seri Stones in her home. “I have a feeling you gained a few
holes on me this round. You’re very good at this, especially for the first
time. Are you sure you don’t know any tricks?”
“Well,” Jamie confessed, “I
noticed a pattern after we’d been playing a couple of rounds. I hope it’s
okay.”
“You can do anything you
like to move your stones around. It’s very clever of you to figure out a
pattern so quickly.”
“Mr. Spock says the same
thing. He’s always showing me new games. Figuring out the pattern is fun.” She
began to count her stones for another round. “Hey, Meyla, where is everybody?”
“All of my attendants except
Chari have been given the morning off, thank goodness. I’m sick of them
hovering over me day and night. I sent them to explore the ship with the rest
of the guests. Your recreation officer, Mr. Tanzer, had a tour planned today,
and everyone was excited to go on it. I begged Uncle to let me stay here.”
“Don’t you want to see the Enterprise?”
“Not
with them. I want you to show me the ship.”
“That’s
a great idea, just you and me.” Jamie picked up her first hole and started to
move her stones around. “When are they getting back?” She frowned when a stone
landed in an empty hole, ending her turn.
Meyla’s eyes
lit up, and she scooped up her stones. “Uncle Ben’yla and I, along with three
of our representatives, are having a quiet lunch here in our cabin today. Uncle
wants to review the first part of the journey with everyone before the next
stage of meetings with the Federation begins tomorrow. Perhaps you may stay.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Jamie watched sorrowfully as Meyla went around and around, building up stones
in her home. “Aren’t you ever going to land in an empty hole?”
Meyla grinned. “I hope to
gain back all those stones you stole from me last round. Now you know why this
game can go on for hours, or even days.” She landed in an empty hole across
from one of Jamie’s extra-full holes and scooped the stones from both holes
into her waiting home. “Your turn.”
“This kind of work makes me
hungry,” Jamie said. “How would you like to try an ice cream sundae now? I know
it’s not lunchtime yet, but your thirty-hour days have mixed up my stomach, and
I’m hungry.”
“All right.” She clapped her
hands, and Chari hurried out from one of the back rooms. “Give Chari your card
and she will bring us our . . . what are they called? Sundaes?”
Jamie handed her card to the
attendant. “Punch in 552 for the code. I don’t want to get broccoli and fish
accidentally.” She made a face.
Meyla laughed as Chari
headed for the replicator. “Jamie, you make me feel so merry whenever I’m with
you. How would you like to come and live with me on Jovita?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jamie
replied, capturing a nice, fat hole full of Meyla’s stones. “I like it on the Enterprise.” She watched Chari slip the
diet card into the slot. “You’re gonna love this treat, Meyla. It’s my
favorite.”
“I’m having trouble with
this machine, Princess,” Chari said with a frown. “I get no response to my
request.”
“Hit it,” Jamie suggested.
She’d seen Lt. Riley go after a malfunctioning food replicator once. The
results had been interesting.
Chari gave the replicator a
few sharp whacks, but nothing happened.
Jamie stood up. “I’ll do it,
Chari.”
Just then, the replicator
delivered the two sundaes—and something else. A puff of violet-colored smoke
drifted from the machine and settled around Chari’s head.
Chari dropped to the floor
like a stone and lay still.
Jamie gasped. She’d seen
phaser coolant, smoke from electrical fires, and numerous other dangerous gases
before, but never had she seen
anything like this.
She yanked on the princess’s
sleeve. “We gotta go. Right now.”
Meyla didn’t move. “What
about Chari?”
“Come on!” Jamie yanked Meyla up. The urge to run overwhelmed her. She
raced for the door, but it didn’t open. She punched the override, but nothing
happened.
“Jamie?” Meyla asked,
“what’s wrong?”
Jamie whirled. “I don’t
know, but Chari fell down so fast. That purple smoke must be bad. We’ve got to
get out of here.”
Her gaze fell on the door to
Meyla’s bedroom. It was clear across the room from the replicator. “I know
another way out,” she said, dragging the terror-stricken princess with her.
Once inside the small
bedroom, she shut the door, slammed a table against the wall, and scrambled on
top of it.
“What are you doing?” Meyla
asked, shaking her fear. “Why are you acting like this?”
Jamie ignored her. She
yanked at the screen covering the ventilation duct until it flew open. “Hurry!”
Meyla climbed cautiously
onto top of the table and peered into the dark opening. “But, it’s . . . it’s
dark in there and—”
“Go!” Jamie shoved
the frightened girl ahead of her. She glanced over her shoulder, as if the
purple gas were alive and pursuing them. Then her terrified gaze fell on the
intercom next to the air duct. She reached out and slapped the button.
“Bridge,” came the quiet,
calm voice of the captain.
“Daddy, come get us! The
door is stuck, and we’re trapped in the VIP quarters. Purple smoke is leaking
from the replicator. And I’m scared.”
She didn’t wait for a reply.
Instead, she gave Meyla a rough shove and scrambled into the ship’s air ducts
behind her.
“Jamie!” Kirk shouted her
name from his command chair on the bridge. “What’s wrong? Repeat your message.”
Silence.
He punched a button on his
armrest. “Security and Medical to the VIP quarters, on the double. I want full
sensor readouts and someone from engineering to open a jammed door. Kirk out.”
He wasted no time trying to
figure out the meaning of Jamie’s message. The fear in her voice was enough to
propel him out of his chair and into the turbolift.
Spock left his science
station, a tricorder slung over his shoulder, and followed his captain. The
doors whooshed shut.
“Deck Four.” He turned to
Spock. “What’s going on? She sounded terrified.”
“For a good reason,” Spock
said. “I picked up an unusual reading from my station at the same moment Jamie
was calling, one I must verify within the next five minutes.”
The Vulcan’s tone sent a
chill through Kirk. He said nothing but stared pointedly at his officer. Spock
refused to elaborate.
The ’lift came to an abrupt
halt, and the two officers broke into a run. They rounded the corner to the VIP
quarters less than three minutes after leaving the bridge.
Engineer technician Stevens
and two others were on the scene. “No good, Captain. The door won’t respond to
any of the override commands. Engineering will have to cut through it. I took
the liberty of informing Mr. Scott.” He hefted his cutting torch and awaited
the captain’s signal.
Kirk called through the
door. “Jamie! Are you and the princess in there? Answer me.”
“We tried that, Captain,”
Stevens said. “There was no response.”
“What’s going on, Jim?”
McCoy ran up, tricorder in hand. Two med-techs followed.
Kirk nodded at his first
officer. “Spock?”
“If my
tricorder is correct, there can be no response from the other side of this
door.” He looked at the captain. His dark, sober gaze told Kirk what his Vulcan
friend couldn’t put into words.
“Are you saying they’re dead?”
Fear made his voice harsh.
“My tricorder indicates that
six minutes ago, methyl-tribenidene derivative #4 was released into the VIP
quarters. It’s difficult to be precise, but the tricorder is picking up the
final traces of what is left of the gas.”
“That’s impossible,” McCoy
interrupted. “Starships don’t carry D-4, or even the components to make it. The
tricorder must be malfunctioning.”
Spock gave the doctor a
weary look. “Doctor, would you care to check it with your own equipment? But I
suggest you hurry, for you know as well as I how quickly D-4 breaks down into
inert components.”
Kirk took a sharp breath. This
can’t be happening on my ship. “What is this gas?”
“Methyl-tribenidene
derivative #4 is a gas so poisonous it instantly kills anyone who has either
touched the gas or breathed even a minute amount,” Spock answered. “It
disperses quickly and can saturate an entire room in five minutes.”
McCoy was shaking his head
in disbelief.
“After seven minutes,” Spock
went on, “all traces of the poison break down and it becomes inert. Any
evidence of the gas also disappears, either in the bodies or in the
atmosphere.”
He consulted his tricorder.
“It is as I predicted. There is no longer any sign of D-4 within the VIP
quarters. It is safe to enter.”
McCoy took up the tale. “The
awful thing about D-4, Jim, is that it’s the perfect murder weapon. It leaves
no trace of a cause of death. Patients appear to have died by natural causes.”
“However,” Spock said,
“Jamie’s cry for help alerted us. We now know that someone planned to kill and
expected to leave no trace.”
Kirk turned to Stevens. “Get this door open—now.”
“Yes, sir.” He brought his
cutting tool up.
Suddenly there was a click,
and the door slid open. Stevens glanced at Kirk, obviously baffled.
“Fascinating,” Spock
remarked. He stooped down and made a careful examination of the doorway. When
he rose, he held a small, innocuous-looking device.
“What . . .” Kirk’s voice
trailed away as the device melted into a pool of plastic in Spock’s hand.
“The door has been tampered
with. This small mechanism must have reacted when the poison was released,
sealing the door so no one could escape. When the danger was past, it
disintegrated, allowing the door to operate normally again.” His voice held
astonishment. “An ingenious device, one I have not seen before.”
Kirk was not interested in
hearing more. He raced into the VIP quarters and scanned the room. “Bones!” he
called when he noticed the still form beneath the replicator.
McCoy hurried over and knelt
beside the young woman. He waved his medical tricorder over her body. “She’s
dead, Jim.”
Kirk felt his stomach
clench. “I want an autopsy as soon as possible.”
“Captain, over here!”
Stevens shouted.
Kirk rushed into the
sleeping quarters, preparing himself for the worst. Instead, he found a
grinning security guard pointing to the ventilation duct. “I think they’re in
the vents, Captain. Alive and well if that poison breaks down as fast as Mr.
Spock says it does.”
Kirk didn’t allow himself to
feel relief, not yet. “Search these quarters, Lieutenant. See if anyone else
was caught unaware.”
“Aye, sir.”
The captain strode angrily
into the main living quarters. “This attempt was intended for more than a
serving girl. Whoever arranged this hoped to catch a few more Jovitians, perhaps
even the princess or her uncle.” He pointed to the replicator. “Take that thing
apart down to its microchips. I want some answers.”
“Aye, sir.”
Kirk turned to his officers.
“Gentlemen, we have a killer onboard. I want him found before he strikes
again.”
A sudden voice interrupted
him from the corridor. “Hello. Is something wrong?”
Ben’yla and the returning
tour group, including Councilor Grayson, stood just outside the VIP quarters.
Kirk turned and stared at
the group. He didn’t know what to say. One of their guests was a murderer.
Chapter 9
Jamie leaned against the
cramped, cold metal wall to rest. She took a deep breath and tried to swallow
the lump that was stuck in her throat. She peered down the duct as if at any
second the purple gas would catch them.
“I don’t know,” she admitted
in a frightened whisper. “I saw Chari fall. I don’t know if she’s dead. I don’t
know if the purple gas killed her. If it did, maybe it’s coming to get us too.”
She brushed aside her unruly
golden tangles and sniffed back her tears. She wouldn’t cry, at least not yet.
Not in front of a princess.
Meyla shivered. “It’s cold
and drafty. How will we ever get out?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Jamie pointed toward a pale light source. “All these squares of light are
either cabins or corridors, or other rooms. We find one, push out the screen,
and jump down. We really haven’t come very far, Meyla. It just seems like it
because it’s so squished up here.”
She gave a half-hearted
smile for her friend’s sake. “There’s nothing like a little adventure to
brighten the day, don’t you think?”
“Adventure?” Meyla regarded
Jamie with huge, frightened eyes. “This is adventure?”
Jamie clasped her arms
around her knees and regarded her friend closely. Meyla looked shaken, rumpled,
and exhausted—nothing like a princess. Jamie knew it was her fault. Just
wait till Meyla’s uncle learned that she had taken his royal princess through
the air ducts.
Definitely not proper
protocol.
She sighed. “I’m sorry I
scared you. Maybe we should’ve waited until somebody opened the door. I’m
probably going to get into major trouble for dragging you through the
ventilation system. It’s not very dignified.”
She dropped her head to her knees in shame. “I
sometimes jump into things without thinking. Mr. Spock is always telling me to
slow down and consider a problem from every angle. I didn’t do that today. I
just had a feeling we should get out. It’s not logical, but that’s the way it
is.”
Meyla
reached out and took Jamie’s hand.
Jamie
looked up.
“It’s
true I’ve never done anything like this before,” Meyla said. “And you have
frightened me exceedingly. But I won’t let my uncle scold you. Your heart is in
the right place. You thought we were in danger, and you wanted to get me to
safety.”
Jamie squeezed Meyla’s hand.
“Thanks for still wanting to be my friend.” She smiled. “Come on. Let’s get out
of here.”
A minute later the two girls
were staring down into what could only be another VIP quarter. It was not as
fancy as Meyla’s but nicely furnished, nonetheless.
“What do you think?” Jamie
whispered. “Should we get out here?”
“I don’t know. Whose
quarters are these?”
Before Jamie could reply, the
door opened. The girls stared intently through the screen and watched a tall,
dark figure enter the room, clearly in distress. Jamie put a finger to her lips
to signal her friend to be silent.
The cabin belonged to Ms.
Marrid Feldman. She stayed in view for a few minutes as she checked her data pad
and other items on her desk. Then she took off her jacket and made her way
across the room, mumbling under her breath. Neither Jamie nor Meyla could make
out what she was saying.
The cabin door signaled.
“Ms. Feldman!” a voice said
through the door. “Councilor Grayson sent me to find you. There’s been a
terrible accident in the VIP quarters of the Royal Family.”
“I’m coming!” Ms. Feldman answered,
sounding distressed. She reached for her jacket and disappeared through the
door.
Jamie and Meyla stared at
each other. “Let’s find another vent and get out of here,” Jamie whispered. “I
want to find my dad.”
“What’s going on, Kirk?”
Councilor Grayson blustered, shoving his way to the forefront of the group.
“Why have you invaded the private quarters of the Royal House of Jovita?” He
waved at the crowd standing in the corridor. “This is clearly against all
proper protocol. I don’t care whether this is your ship or not. You can’t go
barging into other people’s quarters whenever the mood strikes.”
“Shut up, sir,” Kirk said
tightly.
“Excuse me, Captain.” Scotty
gave Kirk a nod and brushed past him, ignoring the others.
“Kirk, I want an
explanation,” Grayson insisted.
“There is evidence that a
rare poison was released in the VIP quarters a few minutes ago.”
Grayson’s eyes bugged out. “Poison?” He turned to his aide. “Peters,
run down and summon Ms. Feldman to the scene. She needs to be made aware of
this.”
Ben’yla came to life. “Did
you say poison, Captain? Who’s been poisoned? Was it tainted food? Bad drink?”
“Nothing of the kind,
Advisor.”
“Is my niece all right? What
happened?”
“We don’t know yet,” Kirk
confessed. “We suspect foul play in—”
“Captain Kirk!” Councilor
Grayson looked ready to explode. “How dare you! Foul play, indeed. Where is
your evidence?”
Spock stepped forward. “One
of the attendants is dead. Her body is in the morgue awaiting autopsy.”
“Dead?” Ben’yla closed his
eyes and staggered backward. “My niece. Where is she?”
“She’s not in there,” Kirk
explained. “But we’re certain she’s fine.”
Ben’yla refused to be
comforted. “Why did we ever accept your hospitality? Why did we place our lives
in your hands? Many opposed our going, but I, like an old fool, thought the
voyage would be beneficial to Meyla. What have I done?” He appeared on the verge
of a breakdown.
At that moment Marrid
Feldman rushed up, breathless. She laid a hand on Ben’yla’s arm. “Sir, I just
heard the news. It is tragic.” She whirled on Kirk. “Captain, with all that has
happened, I suggest we return the Advisor to Jovita—or perhaps to the other
vessel—until an inquiry can be made into this heartbreaking calamity.”
Kirk whirled on the woman.
“Ms. Feldman, you can be assured an inquiry will be taking place at the
earliest opportunity. Until then, the Jovitian Royal Family is perfectly safe
aboard the Enterprise.”
“But you don’t know what
killed the princess!” she insisted.
“As far as we know,” Spock
broke in, “the princess is alive and well. Only her attendant was found, and we
do know what killed her. Derivative
#4.”
Marrid’s face turned to
chalk. “What a tragedy. But I am relieved to learn the princess is unharmed.”
Suddenly, from behind the
crowd of Jovitians and Federation guests, came the sound of hurrying feet. Two
burly security guards approached, each carrying a dusty, frightened girl.
“Found ’em in section 17,
sir.” The guard was beaming. “They tumbled out of the ducts on top of us.
They’re scared, but perfectly fine otherwise.”
Meyla caught sight of her
uncle and began to sob. She wriggled free of the ensign and threw herself into
Ben’yla’s arms.
“You’re all right!” Ben’yla rejoiced.
“No harm has befallen you.”
“Thanks to Jamie. She knew
something was wrong and shoved me into an air duct.” She smiled at Jamie
through her tears. “It was cold and drafty up there, but she saved my life.”
Silence fell as Ben’yla and
the others listened to the princess.
Then Kirk took Jamie from
the ensign and held her tight. “Oh, Jamie, I thought I’d lost you.”
“Chari’s dead, isn’t she?”
Kirk nodded. “I’m afraid
so.”
“I didn’t know what to do,”
Jamie sobbed. “I should have thought it through longer before I pushed Meyla
into the air ducts, but I just grabbed her and ran. I was so scared.”
She looked at Spock. “I’m
sorry, Mr. Spock. I did it again. I didn’t stop to think it through logically.”
“In this particular
incident,” Spock told her, “you chose wisely. You reacted according to your . .
.” He paused.
“Go ahead and say it,
Spock,” McCoy said with a grin. “She followed her gut. Her good, old-fashioned
human emotions and—”
“You did exactly the right
thing,” Kirk cut in. “Your quick actions saved not only your own life, but also
the princess’s life.” He smoothed back one of Jamie’s stubborn locks of hair
and asked, “Do you remember what happened?”
Jamie nodded. Her eyes
welled up with fresh tears. “It’s my
fault, Daddy. I killed Chari.”
She threw her arms around
her father’s neck and dissolved into uncontrollable sobs, while the rest of
those gathered looked on in shocked silence.
Chapter 10
Cadet’s Log,
Stardate 2269.12
I can’t believe my good fortune. Here I
am, lying under covers of pure silk, in a bed large enough for a crowd, with a
princess to giggle and talk with for half the night. I’ve never done anything
like this before! I can’t believe Daddy gave permission, especially after the
way the inquiry into Chari’s death went. That was horrible!
Jamie had
been terrified. She really believed she was the cause of the young servant’s
death. After all, hadn’t she asked Chari to get the sundaes, a task
Jamie was perfectly capable of performing herself?
It should
have been me who died, not Meyla’s attendant.
Jamie didn’t
want to think about that. The still form of Chari lying on the floor of the VIP
quarters still made her tremble in awful memory at her close call. But instead
of being blamed for Chari’s death, she discovered she was a heroine in Meyla’s
and Ben’yla’s eyes.
The inquiry
had been a noisy, confusing affair, and Jamie was glad her father was holding
her hand. She cringed at the shouting, the accusations, and the nasty things
Councilor Grayson said about her father’s security.
But the most
frightening moment came when Marrid Feldman looked at Jamie. The woman’s
piercing gaze sent shivers up and down Jamie’s spine. For some reason, Ms.
Feldman hated her, as if Jamie were the cause of some kind of disaster, rather
than the heroine everyone said she was.
Marrid
Feldman had declared in a loud and demanding voice that the Jovitian royal
family absolutely must beam over to the Klingon ship for safety’s sake.
Her comment produced a few moments of astonished silence before collapsing into
chaos again.
Jamie told
her story not only for the Enterprise officers and Federation diplomats,
but also for a delegation of hostile Jovitians from the Klingon ship, the Korbin.
It was scary indeed to look into the eyes of Chari’s relatives and confess what
had happened. She would have burst into tears if her father had not been right
beside her, encouraging her with gentle words, and speaking to the rest of the
group in his starship commander’s voice.
Marrid
Feldman’s look turned dark indeed during Jamie’s testimony. Why doesn’t that
woman like me?
Ms. Feldman
had badgered Jamie about each detail of her story until her father had heard
enough and dismissed Jamie from the hearing. Oh, how Ms. Feldman howled after
that!
After the
hearing, no one was happy—not Captain Kirk, not his officers, not the Jovitians.
So, it came
as quite a surprise when Jamie found herself invited to spend the evening and
the night as Meyla’s honored guest in the VIP quarters. It was even more of a
surprise when her father consented.
The evening
in Meyla’s quarters held no end of wonders. After a supper of the most
incredible foods Jamie had ever tasted, Meyla brought out a black velvet box
and shoved it across the table. “This is for you, Jamie.”
Jamie turned the box over in
her hands. “What is it?”
“Open it and see.” Ben’yla
crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the interaction
between the girls.
Jamie lifted the lid. “Oh!”
she gasped. “Oh!”
No words could describe what
lay on the soft velvet lining. It was an Ice Flake, cut from a beautiful Seri
Stone. It was blue and green and purple, all twirling and swirling together. The
Ice Flake looked alive.
Jamie pulled the chain out
and held it up. A pale glow surrounded the stone. “It’s a-a—” she stuttered
breathlessly.
“An Ice Flake,” Meyla
finished, grinning. “Put it on.”
Jamie carefully lowered the fine
gold chain over her head. The Ice Flake hung against her chest. “It’s
beautiful.”
“It’s our thank-you for
saving Meyla’s life,” Ben’yla said with a smile.
Jamie lifted the Ice Flake
and let it rest in her palm. “It must be worth a fortune.”
“It’s priceless. But Meyla’s
life is priceless.”
Jamie looked up. “I don’t
think my dad will let me keep it.”
“I spoke with Captain Kirk
this afternoon,” Ben’yla said, “and he permitted it. Eventually, he’ll keep it
safe for you, but he agreed you could enjoy it until we get to the conference.”
Jamie admired the stone for
a few more minutes. Then she looked at Meyla. “I wonder why the Klingons want
these.”
Ben’yla and Meyla looked at
her in puzzlement.
“The Klingons aren’t the
kind of people who’d go to such trouble to get you to trade only with them, just
for these stones,” Jamie explained. “They’re not usually interested in things
that serve no purpose.”
“But the Seri Stones do serve a purpose.” Ben’yla said. “The
Klingons can buy the stones from us and sell them for whatever they want, to
any world of the Federation or outside.”
“Why don’t you do that
yourself?” Jamie asked. “You could make more money by not giving the trade to
the Federation or the Klingons.”
Ben’yla sighed. “Child, you
raise questions others have raised. It is enough for you to know that we are
trapped between two great powers in this galaxy. We are a simple people and
prefer to keep to ourselves. By aligning ourselves with either the Federation
or the Klingons, we are assured that we can stay on Jovita and mine the Seri
stones. Someone else can distribute them, and the government who does will keep
our planet safe from pirates, and from others who covet the wealth of our
world.”
Jamie made a face and let
the Ice Flake fall from her palm. “Having the Klingons as that power is the
same thing as having pirates. And I don’t care if I’m not supposed to say
anything bad about the Klingons. They’re not nice. I bet you anything that what
they’re telling you and what they’re thinking are two different things.”
Ben’yla laughed. “The
Federation delegation has hinted at what you’re saying. You just come right out
and say it. It’s quite refreshing.” He reached out and laid a gentle hand on Jamie’s
head. “All of this will come out at the conference next week. Until then, my
children, off to bed with you.”
That was how Jamie found
herself lying in the lap of luxury for the night. She sighed in contentment and
reached out to touch her Ice Flake, savoring the unearthly warmth it generated.
How
in the world does it do that?
“Jamie?” Meyla asked in the
dark.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve never had a friend
spend the night.”
“Neither have I,” Jamie said.
“You haven’t?”
“No. There aren’t any other kids
aboard the Enterprise.”
“Do you get lonely?”
Jamie thought about it a
moment. Then she said, “No. There are too many exciting things happening most
of the time to think about playing with other kids.”
She rolled over and faced
her friend. In the dim light of the nightlight, she could just make out Meyla’s
face. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else in the entire galaxy. I’ll be sad when the
Enterprise’s five-year mission comes to an end. I hope we’re not
grounded. I want to sail the stars forever.”
“But aren’t you scared when
the ship goes into battle?”
“Terrified!” Jamie admitted.
“I’ve had a couple of close calls that nearly scared my dad into thinking about
getting me off the ship—permanently. I’ve even been aboard a Klingon battle
cruiser by accident, and I didn’t like it much.” She felt Meyla shiver.
Jamie sighed. “That’s how I
know Klingons can’t be trusted, not when they want something badly. They wanted
a mineral called topaline badly a year ago. So badly that the Klingon commander
kept me aboard his ship to make my dad trade him the topaline for me.”
Meyla caught her breath.
“What happened?”
“A boy named Kerla rescued
me,” Jamie remembered. “We were friends. If not for him . . .” She let her
words trail away. “Anyway, the Klingons seem to want these Seri Stones badly.
That is not good.”
“Do you think they want the
stones badly enough to kill someone?” Meyla whispered.
Jamie had no doubts about
that, but she didn’t want to scare her friend. “Are you thinking of Chari?” she
asked.
“Yes,” Meyla said in a shaky
voice. “I think maybe it was meant to be me. I’m scared, Jamie. I watched and
listened at the inquiry this afternoon. The Federation did not do well in the
eyes of my people, as much as Uncle would like your delegates to believe they
did. I could sense the unrest, the uncertainty. They no longer feel safe aboard
the Enterprise.”
“That
would be a great way to get you all to the Klingon ship,” Jamie said in
disgust. “Then they could influence you to make a deal with them.” She sighed.
“It figures.”
“I do not want to leave
you,” Meyla said, “and I usually get what I want. However, if another incident
occurs that threatens my life, I fear the Federation will forfeit any
chance they might have had at securing the trading rights.”
“It sounds like a sneaky
Klingon trick to me.” Jamie scowled in the dark. “But there aren’t any nasty Klingons
aboard the Enterprise who could have sabotaged the replicator.”
“So, it must have been an
accident, after all,” Meyla said, “and perhaps the ship is not as safe as your
father pretends.”
“No,” Jamie insisted. “My
dad doesn’t believe it was an accident. He thinks there’s a killer aboard.
That’s why he put the ship on a security two alert.”
“That frightens me even
more. Could it one of your crew?”
“No way! Unless a Klingon
sneaked aboard and dressed up as . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Wait a minute.
That’s it!” She sprang up in bed, fully awake. “What if there really is
a Klingon spy aboard the Enterprise?”
“You just said there are no
Klingons aboard the Enterprise,
Jamie.”
“That we know
about.”
“How would you hide a
Klingon?” Meyla asked.
“They did it once on Space
Station K-7.” Jamie went on to explain the Klingon spy altered to appear human.
Meyla shivered. “What if
it’s true?”
“A spy would be easy to
find. Dr. McCoy discovered the Klingon spy on K-7. He ran a bio-scan on
everybody,” Jamie said. “He could do it again, especially on the Federation
Council members and the ambassadors. It’s not hard to believe that someone from
the council is the suspect. They’re all grouchy.”
“Or maybe it’s that
newswoman, what’s her name?”
“No. She’s the real Nan
Rushmore. I’ve seen her lots of times before on the news.” Jamie shook her
head. “If I were going to guess, I’d bet my credits on that creepy woman,
Marrid Feldman. She could easily be a Klingon spy.”
“You can’t accuse Ms.
Feldman of being a Klingon spy just because you don’t like her,” Meyla said
reasonably. “We better leave the investigation to your father’s security
officers.”
“I know we should,” Jamie
agreed. “But security takes its own time about this stuff. A couple of years
ago, we had someone aboard who killed an ambassador. It took security forever to track him down. They caught
him only after he went after my dad. No,” she decided with a shake of her head,
“Security won’t be quick to accuse anyone from the Federation Council,
that’s for sure.”
“Yes,” Meyla agreed. “It’s
called being diplomatic.”
“Exactly. So . . . I think
we should give security a little help.”
“Why?”
Jamie shrugged. “Until that
spy is caught, you and I won’t be allowed to run around freely. A phase-two
alert means guards at all the junctions, guards at all sensitive areas of the
ships, and nobody allowed into those areas. All the best places I was going to
show you are now off limits.”
Meyla made no comment.
“If we could get some kind
of evidence that one of the delegates is the spy, then I could tell my dad.”
“How could we do that?”
Jamie pointed in the
direction of the ventilation duct. “By doing a little spying of our own.”
Meyla gasped. “We can’t!”
“Why not? We just listen at
the vents of certain people and see if they say anything interesting.”
“Jamie!”
“Listen, Meyla. If we help
catch the spy, we won’t have to worry about a killer running around anymore.
You and your people can stay aboard the ship, the security alert will be
history, and we can explore all the best parts of the ship.”
Meyla looked pale, but she
nodded. “Okay. When should we do it?”
“Right now. Your guards and
attendants think we’re asleep. We can hang around a couple of room vents
tonight, then a couple more tomorrow night, until we hear something.”
The girls slid noiselessly
out of bed and carried a small table to a spot under the vent. Using hand
signals and whispers, they scurried onto the table and into the air duct with
no difficulties.
“How do we know where we
are?” Meyla whispered. “All these passages look alike.”
“I know where I am,” Jamie
said in a low whisper. “Follow me.”
They continued for a dozen
meters and approached a square of light. Jamie held her finger to her lips as
they slid quietly in front of the vent.
It was the councilor’s
quarters. He was dictating into his personal log. The man talked in a monologue
about the results of the various briefings. Jamie looked at Meyla and rolled
her eyes. Boring! she mouthed silently.
After ten minutes of this,
Jamie slid farther down the vent.
“Let’s try somebody else. It
sure doesn’t sound like he’s planning anything. I about fell asleep listening
to all that.”
Meyla grinned, clearly
adjusting to her friend’s odd adventures. The next square of light came from
Ms. Feldman’s quarters. Jamie and Meyla recognized it at once from their
earlier trip through the air ducts. They found positions and watched to see if
anything interesting would happen.
“I don’t think anybody’s
here,” Meyla whispered, but Jamie poked her for silence.
Suddenly, the sound of a
distressed voice came from another room. Marrid Feldman wandered past the duct.
A small device was pressed to her ear; she held another device in her hand. “I
don’t care!” The words were sharp, demanding.
Jamie jumped at the sound
and clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping.
She’s
not speaking Federation English! I can only understand her because of that
translator in my arm. Her
ears protested against the harsh, grating sounds coming from Ms. Feldman’s
mouth.
“Just arrange it and arrange
it quickly.” There was a pause. “No, I did not.” Another pause. “Now, listen
here. I will not be stuck over here while you’re—” Marrid’s voice became tense.
She whirled around and faced the vent. Her face contorted in fury as she
listened to an unseen voice. Then she relaxed.
“All right. Tomorrow. You’d
better come through. I haven’t much time.” Another pause. “I will if I can, but
I’m making no promises. They’ve tightened security since the disaster this
afternoon.” A click, then all was still as the woman paced hurriedly into the
adjoining room.
Jamie pulled on Meyla’s
sleeve. “Let’s go.”
The princess needed no
urging. They retraced their steps to the VIP quarters, slipped through the air
duct, and fell into the safety of the huge bed. Meyla’s face was white. She lay
under the covers, shaking.
Jamie reached out a
comforting hand. “It’s okay, Meyla. Sure, it was a little chancy, but it was
worth it. Ms. Feldman must be the Klingon agent. She was probably talking to
someone from the Klingon ship.”
“I’m scared,” came the
muffled reply. “If she is indeed a Klingon spy who wants to kill me or one of
my people, then this is something the Council must hear about. But how can you
be certain? If we accuse Ms. Feldman and she turns out to be innocent, how do
you think that will affect the relationship between my people and the
Federation? I am a princess. I do not have the privilege of accusing people of
crimes based on so little evidence.”
Meyla was right. But Jamie
was convinced that Ms. Feldman was acting very suspiciously. “Would it hurt to
at least let my dad know about it? Or Security?”
Meyla rolled over and pulled
the covers closer around her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it any
longer.”
Jamie hazarded a quick look
at the chronometer. It was way past
midnight. Her father wouldn’t be up
this late. But Security would be, especially now. They were on duty ’round the
clock since the disaster.
She slipped out of bed.
“Where are you going?” Meyla
asked.
“I’m going down to Security.
They should know there’s a person sneaking around, talking Klingon into a
hand-held communication’s device.” She pulled off her nightgown and rummaged
around for her tunic and pants.
“Please don’t go. If you’re
wrong, we could get into a lot of trouble.”
“I’ve got to go,” Jamie
insisted. She slipped her red shirt over her head and hastily pulled on her
socks and shoes. “Are you coming?”
“No. And I doubt Uncle’s
guards will let you go wandering around this time of night.”
“They can follow me then.”
Jamie opened the bedroom door to the main room of the VIP quarters. It was
quiet, and the lights barely glowed. She padded softly toward the door and
reached for the “unlock” button.
“Where are you going, Miss?”
Jamie nearly jumped out of
her skin. A Jovetian guard hovered over her.
“I need to talk to
Lieutenant Meyers.”
“It is very late.”
Jamie frowned. “You don’t
have to worry about me. I know the way.”
“Advisor Ben’yla will be
most distressed if I allow you to leave the safety of these quarters.”
“Are you saying the Enterprise isn’t safe?”
“No, Miss. It’s just that
the advisor thinks it best if—”
“I’m going down to Security.
Come if you like.” Jamie didn’t mean to sound snippy, but she was tired and—if
truth be told—scared.
The guard made no further
objections.
Jamie hurried down to deck
eleven and stepped into the Security office. With a sigh of relief, she saw
Lieutenant Meyers, watch-officer for the newly created Delta shift, sitting at
his desk. He was leafing through hard-copy reports of security postings. Every
few minutes, a voice echoed through his comm link. He looked alert and
professional.
“Lieutenant Meyers,” Jamie
said, standing before his desk.
Meyers’s head snapped up.
“What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?” He gave the Jovetian
a brief nod of recognition and turned back to Jamie.
Jamie leaned over his desk.
“I know who the Klingon spy is.”
“Who said anything about
Klingon spies?”
“It’s Ms. Feldman,” Jamie
blurted, ignoring Meyers’s question. “I heard her speaking Klingon into a
handheld communications device. She must have sabotaged the replicator. You’ve
got to do a bio-scan on her before she goes after somebody else.”
Meyers did not smile. “If
this is a joke, Cadet, your timing is lousy.”
“It’s not a joke. I promise.
I heard her. I saw her.”
Meyers glanced at the Jovitian
guard, who said nothing. “It’s against my better judgment to ask this question,
but how could you have seen her?”
Jamie hesitated only a
moment. “Meyla and I climbed into the air ducts a little while ago. We listened
at Ms. Feldman’s quarters and heard what she said into her—”
“Jamie Kirk!” Meyers leaped from his seat, shocked. “What lunacy is
this? Spying from the ventilation system!”
Jamie flushed at the
lieutenant’s rebuke. “I . . . w-well,” she stuttered.
“Let me get this straight.”
The lieutenant returned to his seat and motioned Jamie to sit down. She sat.
“You want me to intrude upon the quarters of an aide to a high-ranking
Federation Council member in the middle of the night? Arrest her? Make her submit
to a bio-scan? On your word?”
Meyers ran his fingers
through his hair. “Do you want to get me court-martialed or something?”
Jamie dropped her gaze to
her lap and shook her head.
“Listen, Jamie,” Meyers said
quietly. “I know my job, and I’d appreciate it if you let me do it. Without
hard evidence, I can’t lock up anybody who looks suspicious, or anybody who
happens to have a sour personality.” He tapped his stylus against the countertop.
“How much of this conversation did you hear? Ten minutes’ worth?”
Jamie shook her head.
“Five minutes’ worth?”
Another shake.
“Two minutes? Thirty
seconds? Did it occur to you that she might be speaking into a device in her
native tongue? A Federation tongue?”
Jamie hung her head. Lt.
Meyers made it sound so reasonable. Did she dislike Ms. Feldman so much that
she was willing to accuse her of being a murderer? All of a sudden, Jamie
wasn’t sure.
“Commander
Stoddard is Security Chief,” Meyers reminded her. “He plans on doing a discreet
check on everyone, but these things take time. If you’re worried about someone
coming after the princess tonight, I’ll post a guard in front of the VIP
quarters.” He turned back to his monitor. “Now, I suggest you go back to bed—on
the double—and no more prowling about. Understood?”
“Clearly, sir,” Jamie whispered. That sure didn’t go very well.
Sighing in weariness and
embarrassment, Jamie rose and made her way back to the VIP quarters to get what
sleep she could before morning came.
Chapter 11
“His office?” Jamie groaned.
Uh-oh. I’m in trouble.
Rubbing her eyes and
yawning, she slipped from bed and struggled into the shower. The warm water
didn’t revive her, and a quick breakfast from the now-repaired VIP replicator
didn’t help much, either.
Now that morning had
arrived, the entire night episode seemed silly. Jamie wished she’d listened to
Meyla and stayed in bed. Too late now.
As she left the VIP cabin
and headed for the turbolift, a feeling of dread fluttered in her stomach. She
wondered what her father would say about her night wanderings. Nothing good, probably.
“You don’t need to follow me
around all the time,” Jamie told the Jovitian guard who had followed her the
night before. Didn’t he ever sleep? “I’m just going to see my dad.”
“I will await orders from
the captain,” the guard replied. He continued to walk a few discreet steps
behind her.
Jamie entered the ’lift. She
crossed her arms over her chest, slouched against the back wall, and prepared
herself for discipline. The ’lift traveled smoothly for a few seconds then
slowed down and stopped. The doors slid open, allowing Marrid Feldman, Nan
Rushmore, and the ever-present Lt. Bailey to enter. The ’lift began to ascend
once more.
Jamie straightened. She gave
Ms. Feldman a sideways glance and swallowed. The woman was glaring at her with
such loathing that it made Jamie’s heart skip a beat. She knew if Nan and the
men hadn’t been in the lift, Ms. Feldman would surely have lashed out at her.
Suddenly grateful for the Jovetian guard and Lt. Bailey, Jamie clasped her
hands behind her back and stared at the floor.
“Good morning, Jamie,” the
newswoman greeted her. “You’re up early.”
Jamie managed a little smile
for Nan. “Yes, ma’am. I’m on my way to see my dad.”
Before Nan could reply, the
’lift arrived at deck 5, and Jamie made a hurried escape. She turned back to
the newswoman. “See you later.”
Jamie hurried down the
corridor and stopped in front of the captain’s office. She paused. Might as well get this over with, she
thought with a sigh. Her finger touched the buzzer, and the doors whooshed
open.
“Well, well, look who’s here.” Kirk flipped
his computer screen off and motioned Jamie inside. He nodded to the guard and
sent him on his way. The door shut.
“Good morning to you,
Cadet.”
“Good morning, Captain,”
came Jamie’s unenthusiastic reply.
“Have a seat.”
Jamie plopped into a chair
across the desk from her father and waited.
“I heard you had quite a
night.” He reached for his coffee and took a swallow. When Jamie didn’t answer,
he set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll get right to the point.
I read the log for Delta shift last night. Your name figures prominently into
Meyers’s report.”
“Yes, sir. It’s just that .
. . well, I think that mean woman, Ms. Feldman, is up to something. She was
acting really mysterious, talking into her little device.”
Kirk gave his daughter a
disappointed look. “But, Jamie, the air ducts? Granted, you showed quick
thinking yesterday when you climbed up there, but you’re to stay out of them,
and you know it.”
Jamie hung her head. “I’m
sure I heard something useful.”
“I’m sure you did too. And
if anyone outside of this crew finds out you were spying on important
Federation officials it could mean trouble—and I mean really big
trouble—for me.”
“Couldn’t you at least run a
bio-scan on her?”
“Jamie.” Kirk’s tone of
voice brought her head up. “You are out of line. The bio-scans will take place,
I assure you, but only after the proper procedures have been followed.”
“Yes, sir.” What a rotten
way to begin what should have been a great day. “I won’t climb around in the vents
anymore.”
“That’s all I wanted to
hear.” Kirk took another swallow. “You’re free to go.”
“And do what?” Jamie asked
sourly. “I was going to take Meyla on a tour of the ship this morning, but with
everything going on now, I suppose you won’t let me.”
Kirk shrugged. “I don’t have
a problem with it. Just stay out of the sensitive areas—engineering, the
transporter room—”
“Hangar deck, armory,
auxiliary control, the bridge.” Jamie ticked the areas off on her fingers. “Is
there anything left to see?”
“You know there is.”
“Does that Jovitian guard
have to follow us around all day long?”
Kirk considered. “No, I
suppose not. I have guards posted at all sensitive areas around the ship and at
nearly every junction. That should be enough to discourage any repeat of
yesterday’s fiasco.”
“Okay, I guess I can find
places to take the princess.” Jamie slid out of her chair and headed for the
door. As it whooshed open, she turned around and said, “I’m sorry. I guess I
wasn’t thinking last night. I just wanted to help catch the spy.”
“I know, honey.” He winked
at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “Go on and have a good time. Don’t worry
about spies, Klingon or otherwise. That’s my job. You and the princess
are perfectly safe aboard my ship.”
Jamie smiled. “I hope you
catch the spy today.”
Kirk sighed. “You and me
both.”
“Jamie, wait a minute.” Nan
Rushmore’s voice brought Jamie and Meyla to a standstill. The newswoman jogged
up and gave the girls a charming smile. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“I’m taking Meyla on a
tour,” Jamie said. “You’ve already had one. Probably you’ve seen everything by
now.”
Nan’s eyes widened. “I’m
sure you didn’t show me everything that first evening. This ship is huge, and
I’d love another tour.”
“If Meyla doesn’t mind, it’s
all right with me,” Jamie said. “I just didn’t want you to get bored.”
“I don’t mind,” Meyla said.
Nan chuckled. “Bored? Not a
chance. My recorder is running overtime trying to take it all in.” She glanced
at Lt. Bailey. “Come along, Lieutenant, we’re going on another tour.”
Bailey rolled his eyes.
Jamie muffled a giggle. Lt.
Bailey had been stuck with Ms. Rushmore too many days. And now he was doomed to
see the same places he’d seen a hundred times before.
Jamie was sure glad she
didn’t have to shadow Ms. Rushmore 24/7.
Jamie nudged the princess.
“C’mon, Meyla, let’s go. Our first stop is the gym. It’s down on the lowest
level, next to the botanical gardens. Then we’ll work our way up.” She sighed.
“Of course, we can’t see all the exciting stuff, not since Daddy . . . I mean
the captain put the ship on alert. Unless Lt. Bailey is willing to get
us into places that—”
“Don’t go there, Cadet,”
Bailey muttered. “I haven’t forgotten the lesson Ensign Matthews taught us all
last year when—”
“Okay, okay.” Jamie did not
want the lieutenant’s reminder of how she’d talked the ensign into letting her
take some rascally visitors onto the hanger deck. Her cheeks flamed at the
memory.
“Shadowing the news lady
might not be the best duty aboard ship,” Bailey went on, “but it’s a sight
better than being on report, if you get my drift.”
“Yes, sir,” Jamie replied. “I
do.”
With a shrug, she led her
guests toward the nearest ‘lift. An hour later, her guests were duly impressed.
“This tour is better than
the last one,” Nan told her. “I never knew a starship boasted an Olympic-size
swimming pool.”
There was more: the VIP
lounge, the botanical gardens, the racket ball courts, the labs, and another
peek at sickbay, where Dr. McCoy treated everyone to a soda from his special
stock.
Jamie led them up
turbolifts, down corridors, and through research labs and recreation areas
until Nan had more than enough recorded to make a story about starship life a
dream to wish for.
“Did you know we even have a
chapel?” Jamie asked as they made their way down yet another corridor.
“I didn’t realize that, no,”
Nan admitted.
“Yeoman Walker and Ensign
Tobias were married six months ago in the chapel,” Bailey put in. “Quite an
affair, wasn’t it, Cadet?”
Jamie nodded. “Would you
like to see the chapel?”
“I would,” Nan agreed
readily. “I’m interested in seeing how a starship deals with different faiths.
Would it be disrespectful to film it?”
Jamie looked at Bailey, who
shrugged and gave his permission.
The door whooshed open, and
Jamie, Meyla, Nan, and the lieutenant entered the dimly lit chapel without
making a sound.
It was a simple place,
containing a number of pews and a pulpit. A lone figure knelt quietly, as
though in prayer, and Jamie stopped short.
“I think we should return
later,” Bailey whispered.
“I’d prefer you stay.”
Marrid Feldman rose from her kneeling position and turned to face them. She
held a small, deadly looking weapon in one hand. “Come over here and sit down.”
“I don’t think so,” Bailey
said, springing for the intercom. But just as his hand reached out to slap the
call button, he yelped and slid to the ground.
Jamie gasped. Meyla
shrieked.
Nan stood, pale and stiff,
staring at the slumped crewman. “What did you do to him?”
“Shut up,” Marrid snapped.
She strode over to Bailey and withdrew a vicious-looking dagger from the man’s
body. Blood seeped from the wound in a steady stream.
Wiping the dagger on her
sash, Marrid returned it to a fold in her tunic.
Bailey lay still, gasping
and clutching his side.
Jamie rushed over and threw
herself beside the crumpled form on the floor. Her heart was racing out of
control. “Lieutenant Bailey’s my friend. Let me call sickbay. Please! He’ll
bleed to death.”
Marrid yanked Jamie to her
feet. “No time. We’re leaving.”
The last time Jamie had seen
so much blood was when a disguised Orion spy had stabbed her father. She’d had
nightmares for a week. But this was worse—so much worse! That wicked woman
would not even let her call for help.
Jamie twisted away from
Marrid. “You are the spy! Wait till my dad—”
A resounding slap silenced
her. “You have been a thorn in my flesh ever since I set foot aboard this
accursed vessel. I look forward to removing that thorn, brat.”
No sooner had the words left
the woman’s mouth than the room dissolved into a million twinkling lights.
“Captain!” A look of
disbelief covered Uhura’s face. “The Klingon vessel has suddenly come into
transporter range. No . . . wait! My board just lit up with an indication of a
tremendous power surge. A transporter!”
“Transporter room!” Kirk
slammed his fist down on the control panel. “Lock onto whatever the Korbin is doing and beam it back.”
“Not possible.” Spock stood
up from his station. “The Korbin is
now out of range. They either beamed someone or something aboard or—”
“Someone from the Enterprise beamed over to Kor’s ship,”
the captain finished. “I think we just lost our murder suspect.” He clenched
his fist and turned to Uhura. “Where did that power surge originate?”
“From the . . . chapel,” Uhura replied, clearly
mystified.
“Security,”
Kirk ordered into the intercom, “Get down to deck 7 and check the chapel for
anything that would explain what just happened.”
“What are you looking for,
Kirk?” Grayson burst out.
“I don’t know, Councilor.
Probably nothing.”
“That’s exactly what you’re
going to find. Nothing. You have managed to bungle your way through two potential tragedies. You didn’t find
the suspect in time. Now you managed to let him get away. This lack of
professionalism will not go unreported to Starfleet. You will have much to
answer for if this trade conference goes in favor of the Klingons.”
“Shut up . . . sir,” Kirk ordered.
“Captain Kirk!” The voice
over the intercom sounded grim. “This is Meyers in the chapel. We have a
medical emergency. Lieutenant Bailey has been stabbed and is bleeding
profusely. I called sickbay. I have no idea what”—he paused—“wait, sir—”
“Meyers!” Kirk shouted.
“Report!”
“Bailey roused long enough
to tell me he was in the chapel with the newswoman, the princess, and Jamie,
when the councilor’s aide, Marrid Feldman, attacked him. I think we’ve got
trouble, sir.”
Chapter 12
Marrid relaxed her crushing
grip on Jamie’s arm and stalked down the steps shouting, “K’traz!”
“A Klingon ship,” Nan
whispered from behind Jamie. “I never dreamed of such a possibility.” She
pushed past the two girls and followed Marrid off the platform. A smile played
across her lips.
Jamie shook her head. “You
don’t want to be here, Nan.”
“Nonsense.”
“What is all this?” A
loud, exasperated voice cut short Nan’s excitement. The voice belonged to a
huge, angry-looking Klingon male dressed in garish ceremonial robes. He glared
at Marrid from beside the transporter controls and demanded an explanation.
Thanks to her subcutaneous
translator, Jamie understood every harsh, scary word.
“My prisoners,” Marrid
gloated, prodding Nan in the back. The newswoman tripped and sprawled at the
feet of the huge Klingon. “This human is a news reporter. She’s been longing
for an interview. I thought we might arrange one for her.”
Nan pulled herself to her
feet and backed up to where Jamie and Meyla stood together, holding hands and
watching in stunned silence. She put her arms around the girls and said, “There
is no need to treat us like cattle.”
The Klingon grunted. “Which
one is the princess?”
“I am,” Meyla replied,
stepping bravely down the steps. Her earlier fear seemed to have dissolved, and
she glared at the Klingon with contempt. “I demand we be returned to the
Federation vessel immediately.”
The Klingon’s attitude
changed abruptly to deference. He bowed. “Your Highness, welcome aboard the Korbin. I am K’traz. As for your demand”—he
smiled—“I trust you will find your stay aboard our ship pleasant. Your advisors
and attendants await you in specially prepared quarters. You will spend the
remainder of your voyage aboard the Korbin, per the agreement.”
“I do not recall any such agreement.”
“Your advisors arranged it.
Please accompany the guards.”
“And my friends? Are they
part of this agreement?”
“No.”
K’traz gave Marrid an angry look. “It appears she has acted on her own.” He
waved to the guards, and they surrounded Meyla. She had little choice but to
accompany them.
“I’ll try to arrange for
your release,” she promised.
With the princess out of the
way, K’traz turned on Marrid. “What do you mean by bringing these humans
aboard? We have no use for them.”
“It is my right,” Marrid
snapped, “and I’ve plenty of uses for them.”
Jamie didn’t learn what
Marrid planned to do with them, for at that moment the doors whooshed open and
another Klingon—his face dark with anger—entered.
Jamie knew immediately this
was the commander of the ship. He reminded her of Koloth, the Klingon commander
she’d accidentally met almost two years ago.
“Your operative had better
be worth the trouble I’ve gone through to get her here,” he barked.
“I assure you, Commander
Kor, I am worth your trouble.” Marrid glided over to stand in front of
Kor. “I’ve brought you the princess. She will now spend time aboard the Korbin.”
Kor crossed his arms over
his chest. “Indeed? What kind of impression do you think kidnapping a princess
will make on the royal family?”
Marrid
drew herself up. “Remember to whom you’re speaking, Kor. I get my orders from
the Council itself, while you—”
“Who
are they?” Kor interrupted with a sudden roar. He hurried across the
room. “What are these humans doing aboard my ship?”
Jamie clutched Nan’s hand.
The Klingon commander looked furious.
“They were beamed aboard
with the princess,” K’traz explained. “Marrid has her reasons.”
“Beam them back. I want no
Earthers aboard my ship.”
“They’re mine,”
Marrid said. “I say what happens to them.” She pointed to Nan. “She is a
newscaster, someone who can be persuaded to report the events of the
trade conference in our favor.” She smiled cruelly at Nan. “It won’t take long
to educate her as to what she will say.”
Before Nan could express her
outrage at such an idea, Marrid reached out and ripped Jamie away from the
newswoman’s side.
“This brat is responsible
for foiling my plans aboard the Enterprise.
She’s kept me from the princess time and time again. She’s mine, I tell you.”
Jamie jerked away from
Marrid. “Let me go!”
Kor cracked a smile. “What
do you plan to do with her, woman?”
Marrid focused an icy gaze
on Jamie. “Anything I want, but vengeance will come later. For now, I will use
her to control Meyla. We want the princess in the right frame of mind during
the trade negotiations.”
“I see,” Kor said
thoughtfully. “Not a bad plan. But how will this small scrap of humanity serve
such a purpose?”
“Easily,
Kor. The girls are fast friends. This brat saved her life, and the princess is
in her debt. Meyla will do as we say to keep this girl from being harmed.”
"Who is she?" Kor asked casually. "The princess's handmaiden?"
Marrid barked a laugh. "I wish! It would have been a simple matter to dispose of her if that were the case. No, Commander. She's that wretched starship captain's brat and much harder to get rid of."
"No." Kor's eyes widened. "You must be mad—or stupid—if you think you can get away with kidnapping Kirk's daughter."
“It
is Marrid’s right to demand retribution,” K’traz put in.
“Enough!”
Kor raised his hand to stop K’traz’s words. “Perhaps we can get away with
keeping the princess. After all, her countrymen are aboard. But the newswoman,
and especially the child, absolutely must be returned to the Enterprise.”
He
turned to his transporter chief. “Send them back as soon as we are in range.”
Marrid
tightened her grip on Jamie. “They stay.”
Jamie
squeezed her eyes shut. She was so frightened that she hardly felt the crushing
pain to her arm. A hot, sick feeling rushed through her, and for a second she
thought she might throw up. She groaned. “I feel sick.”
Marrid
released her, and Jamie crumpled to the cool deck, clutching her stomach.
Don’t
let me throw up on the Klingon ship! she pleaded silently.
Nan
rushed over and gathered Jamie into her arms. “How dare you frighten this
child! Keep me here but send Jamie back. She’s just a little girl.”
“Silence,
human.” K’traz raised a fist.
Kor
shoved the older Klingon aside. “Enough of this foolishness, K’traz. I will not
put my ship in danger over Marrid’s distorted sense of Klingon revenge.”
“You
command this ship, Kor,” K’traz said, “but I command the mission.” He turned to
the guards. “Take the
newswoman and the girl and put them in detention.” As the guards pulled the two
prisoners to their feet, K’traz bowed to Nan. “We shall see to your education
at the earliest opportunity.”
Jamie struggled to her feet
and turned a helpless look on Commander Kor. “Please send us back, Commander.”
Kor sighed. “I would send
you back if I could, but you do not belong to me. You belong to Ms. Feldman,
which is your misfortune.” He raised a hand in a Klingon salute. “Survive and
succeed, young Kirk.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.
Jamie stopped Kor with a
terrified shout. “If my dad doesn’t get you for this, the Organians certainly
will!”
Kor paused briefly but did
not turn around. “You’re probably right,” he said with a sigh, then hurried out
of the room.
Chapter 13
Once settled in the brig, Jamie relaxed. She was away from horrid Ms. Feldman, and a Klingon detention cell was better than being surrounded by Klingons. She climbed up on the metal cot, leaned against the wall, and said, “We’re in trouble.”
Nan hiked herself onto the
cot and reached for a covering. “Things aren’t so bad, Jamie. Councilor Grayson
says the Klingons are all bluster. Captain Kirk will arrange for our release,
and we’ll be home before supper.”
She settled the blanket over
Jamie’s lap and gave her leg a gentle pat. “Don’t worry, honey. I may even get
my interview.”
Jamie’s mouth fell open.
“Ms. Rushmore . . . Nan . . . you may be a smart, famous news reporter, but you
don’t know anything about Klingons.
That huge Klingon, K’traz, is going to make you say all kinds of things you
don’t want to say. He’ll make you lie for them.”
Nan
laughed. “Don’t be silly, Jamie. I’m a professional. I’ve been threatened
before to tell the news according to someone’s agenda. I didn’t kowtow to
anyone then, and I won’t back down now.”
“Yes,
you will. You’ll do exactly what they say.”
“I’ll never
cooperate with them.”
Jamie took a deep breath.
“Rule number one: Survive and succeed.
That’s a Klingon rule, and we’re working on the first part right now, surviving. As long as they think
you’re useful, they’ll keep you alive.”
She blinked back tears.
“Please, Nan. Be useful to them. You need to stay alive, because I’m scared. I
need you.”
Nan opened her arms. “Come
here. You look like you could use a hug.”
Jamie snuggled close to Nan
and laid her head against her warm body. But her relief at being away from Ms.
Feldman dissolved as she realized it was only temporary. She was trapped aboard
the Korbin, with a Klingon woman crazy for revenge.
“I want to go home,” she
said. “Ms. Feldman is scary-crazy. She’s going to do something bad to me. I
just know it.”
Please, Daddy, come and
get me. Hurry! Jamie
couldn’t stop shaking. She buried her head in Nan’s shirt and burst into quiet
sobs.
Nan said nothing and held
her tight.
When James Kirk realized he
had been tricked, he was ready to burst. Kor had not only snatched away a
Klingon operative, the Jovitian princess, and a Federation newswoman, but he
had taken his daughter as well. There was no excuse for that, and Kor
would pay!
After checking on his
injured crewman and giving some placating assurances to Ben’yla about Meyla’s
safety, Kirk returned to the bridge breathing fire. He plopped down in his
chair and barked, “Hail the Korbin, Lieutenant.”
“What
do you intend to do, Kirk?” The councilor had dogged his heels all the way to
the bridge.
“Do?” Kirk swung his chair
around and faced the irritating man. “Why, I intend to get my people back. And I’d
appreciate it if you would stay out of my way and keep your comments to
yourself. Interfere and I’ll clap you in irons.”
Grayson
opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Kirk’s face silenced him. He found
an empty seat and sat down.
“I have Commander Kor,”
Uhura announced. “On screen.”
The view screen lit up,
revealing the Klingon commander. He looked unhappy and a tad worried. “I’ve
been anticipating your hail, Captain.”
At the very least, Kirk
expected Kor to gloat over his captives, harass the captain, and try to provoke
him. But he didn’t. His quiet statement took the wind from Kirk’s sails.
“You have my people,” he
said simply.
“Yes,” Kor admitted, “but
they are not here by my design.”
“Send them back, and I’ll
forget the mockery you’re making of this trade conference.”
“I’d
like nothing better,” Kor said, “but it’s partly your fault they’re here.”
“My
fault?”
“Yes,
Captain. It was awfully sloppy of you to allow your people to be kidnapped
right out from under your nose.” He glared at Kirk. “I don’t want them here.
They greatly complicate my life.”
Kirk
was taken aback by Kor’s honesty. What is
going on over there?
His
mental question fizzled away as Marrid Feldman entered the bridge. She was dressed
in Klingon garb and stood next to Kor’s chair.
Kirk
caught his breath. I promised Jamie that she and the princess were safe
aboard my ship, he remembered with
a stab of regret. I was wrong. I should have bio-scanned them all last
night, and to blazes with diplomacy!
The
woman’s half-human/half Klingon heritage mocked him. “You’re the saboteur and
the killer,” Kirk said wearily.
“Yes, Captain. And it would
have worked marvelously if not for your brat.”
A garishly dressed Klingon
male took his place near Kor’s command chair. He gave Kirk a toothy smile.
“Greetings, Captain Kirk.”
Kirk ignored him and looked
at Kor. “What about it, Commander? How do I get Ms. Rushmore and Jamie back?”
“You don’t,” K’traz answered
for Kor. “The princess is here among her own people, and the newswoman and the
girl are spoils of war.”
“We’re not at war.”
K’traz grinned. “Perhaps not
officially.”
Kirk glared at Kor. “This
act jeopardizes your position at the upcoming trade conference, Commander.
Advisor Ben’yla is beside himself with worry over the kidnapping of his niece.”
“I cannot imagine why he
should feel that way,” K’traz broke in. “The princess is resting comfortably
with the others of Jovita. Her uncle may speak to her at any time. Just let us
know when, and we’ll pipe it down to their quarters.”
This brought Kirk up short.
“Believe me, I will make the
arrangements.”
“Excellent.”
“I would like to speak with
Ms. Rushmore and Jamie,” Kirk added.
Marrid sniffed. “There’s no
reason for that.”
“I want to assure myself
they are all right.”
“Why should I care whether you’re assured, Captain?” Marrid ended the transmission with a sweep of her hand.
Chapter 14
“It’s time for your
interview with K’traz.” The guards laughed as they pulled her from the cell.
Jamie spent the rest of the
afternoon in dread, wondering when Nan would return, and wondering if she would
be next in line for “questioning.”
The sudden clatter of
determined footsteps propelled Jamie from her bunk. She scrambled into a dark
corner of the cell and held her breath.
Maybe
they’ll think I’m in a different cell, she decided, shaking.
She wrapped her arms around
her knees, pulled them close to her chin, and huddled in a small, tight ball. And
waited. She heard the force field power down. The sound of footsteps drew near.
Suddenly, they stopped.
Jamie saw a pair of black
boots only inches from her face. She hadn’t fooled anyone.
“What are you doing?”
Jamie looked up.
Commander Kor towered over
her, hands on his hips. With one swift motion, he scooped her up and carried
her back to the high metal shelf that served as a cot.
“Sitting on the floor of a
detention cell is not dignified,” he said, setting her on the bunk.
“Besides, you might catch a chill. It’s better for me and my ship if you stay
healthy.”
Jamie sat with her legs
suspended over the edge of the cot. She clasped her hands together to keep them
still and stared at her lap. “Where’s Ms. Rushmore?” she whispered.
“That is not your concern.
However, I can tell you that she is alive and well and should be returning to
your cell soon. I came to see how you are faring.”
Jamie lifted her head in
surprise. Why did he care? “I’m
not faring well at all. I don’t like your brig.”
Kor sat down beside her and
folded his arms across his chest. He seemed amused. “Indeed? In what way is it
lacking?”
“There’s nothing to do. It’s
cold and dark and lonely. You shouldn’t put children in a place like this. It
frightens them.”
“Are you frightened, child?”
Jamie swallowed. Terrified!
But aloud she said, “No.”
Kor chuckled. “You do not
lie very well, Jamie Kirk.”
“Okay. Maybe I’m a little
bit frightened.” She scowled. “But I know my father would never lock your little
girl or boy in the Enterprise’s brig. Even if somebody like Councilor
Grayson kidnapped him and brought him aboard. It would be”—she eyed the Klingon
carefully—“dishonorable.”
Kor
looked uncomfortable.
“Do you have a little
boy or girl?”
Kor’s eyebrows shot up.
“Yes. A son. He is five years old.”
“What’s his name?” Jamie
asked.
“Kallin.”
“Can I see a picture?”
“No. I do not carry pictures
with me.”
“Would you like it if Kallin
was stuck aboard the Enterprise?”
Kor shifted in his seat and
scowled. “I would not like it, no. But if you were back on Earth where you
belong instead of flying around the quadrant on your father’s starship, you
would not be aboard my ship.”
Jamie
winced. He is so right! “Wouldn’t
you want Kallin back?”
Kor frowned. “What sort of
question is that? Of course, I would want him back.”
“Wouldn’t you be grateful if
my father helped you get Kallin back?
Even if a bossy diplomat said no?” Jamie didn’t wait for the commander’s
answer. “I’m sure my father wants me
back, and he’d be really grateful if you helped him. I haven’t done anything
wrong.”
“That is entirely true,” Kor
said. “You seem to have made an enemy of the female renegade, Marrid.” He
leaned back against the bulkhead and sighed. “Tell me, Jamie Kirk. What did you
do to earn the wrath of such an evil creature as Marrid?”
Jamie shrugged. “She’s never
liked me, not from the minute she met me.” She went on to describe the past
couple of weeks. When she finished, she looked up.
Kor’s lip was twitching in
amusement. “Yes, I can see how Marrid would be annoyed with you. You made a
fool of her and thwarted her carefully laid plans. Klingons do not easily
forget such insults.”
“Did you know she planned on
killing people?”
Kor let out a long, deep
breath. “I was told there would be an accident aboard the Enterprise that
would scare the Jovitians enough to insist they complete the voyage on the Korbin.
I suspected there would be deaths, but I want no part of outright murder.”
He reached out and laid hand
on Jamie’s arm. “Look at me, child.”
She looked into his dark eyes.
Commander Kor sounded almost nice.
“I believe Captain Kirk would free my son if he were trapped
aboard the Enterprise for no good reason. And since I prefer to fight
your father with photon torpedoes rather than using small children, I will try
to find a way to send you home.” He paused. “But it won’t be easy.”
Jamie’s eyes filled with
tears, but she blinked them back.
At last! A Klingon who wanted
to help her. “Thank you, Commander,” she whispered. “Maybe someday I can meet
your little boy and we can play together.”
Kor smiled. “Perhaps you
can, Jamie Kirk. I would like that.” He rose and saluted her. “Until then,
survive and succeed.”
With that, he left the
detention cell without a backwards glance.
The sound of the force
shield cutting out and the loud thump of something heavy falling to the deck
woke Jamie from a troubled sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes then jumped
from the bunk.
“Ms. Rushmore! Nan!” She
fell next to the figure sprawled on the floor and shook her.
The woman didn’t move.
The guards laughed,
activated the force field, and marched away.
Jamie shook Nan again, but
there was no response. “Are you okay?”
Nan groaned.
Jamie rolled the newswoman
onto her back and studied her. Huge, dark circles stood out under her eyes. Her
face was chalk white. There was not a mark on her otherwise—no scrapes, cuts,
or burns.
The only difference Jamie
noticed was the addition of an intricately cut necklace. It was fastened
tightly around Nan’s neck like a collar. The jewels sparkled.
Jamie reached out and shook
her friend. “Nan, please wake up.”
No response.
Had
they used an agonizer? Jamie
had felt the agonizer before. She saw it in her mind’s eye, a small, round disk
that caused excruciating pain but no permanent damage. It hadn’t left a mark on
her, but two years later the memory was still fresh. She hoped Nan hadn’t been
subjected to it.
Jamie pulled a blanket from
her bunk, gently covered Nan, and sat down beside her. It had been awfully
lonely since Kor had left, and scary. She wanted some company.
Besides, she had an idea,
and she needed Nan’s help.
“Captain Kirk.”
The captain swung his
command chair around and eyed Councilor Grayson warily. “Yes?”
Grayson cleared his throat
uneasily. When he spoke, his words were tinged with remorse. “You may find this
difficult to believe, but I had no idea Ms. Feldman was a Klingon operative.
She has served me faithfully for eight years.” He swallowed. “She and I . . . I
mean . . . we were involved personally.”
His confession came as no
surprise to Kirk. After all, Marrid Feldman—Klingon or not—was a beautiful
woman. He waited. Whatever Grayson wanted to say, it was not coming easily.
“I’m trying to tell you how
terribly sorry I am, but it’s not easy for me. I will cooperate in any way I
can in order to see your little girl and Ms. Rushmore safely returned to this
vessel.”
Kirk regarded Grayson thoughtfully.
The events of the past two weeks played over in his mind: the councilor taking control
over the mission; his ridiculous insistence that Jamie stay away from the
princess; the man’s demanding manner toward Kirk and his crew; his overbearing
and uncooperative attitude regarding the bio-scans, just to name a few.
At every turn, the councilor
and his aide had blocked Kirk’s attempt to find the spy quickly. He now
realized that Grayson himself had been a pawn in Marrid Feldman’s hands.
He almost felt sorry for the
man. Almost.
“Sir,” he finally suggested, “I only ask that you stay out of my way.”
Chapter 15
“Nan?”
Jamie shook the newswoman
gently and laid a damp rag across her forehead. She was rewarded with a groan.
“You’re awake! Let me help you sit up.”
“Augh,” Nan moaned. She made no move to sit up but continued to lie
on the cold, hard deck of the cell.
“Come on,” Jamie insisted.
“Get up. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”
“W-what?” Nan sat up. She
scooted away from the doorway, her dark eyes wide and full of horror. “No!”
She shook her head. “No.
Anything. I’ll do anything! Stop it! I—” She broke off and focused on Jamie.
“Jamie?” Then she burst into choking sobs that shook her entire body.
Jamie threw her small arms
around Nan. “It’s all right, Nan. They’re gone. I’m sure they’ll leave us alone
till morning.”
Nan drew a deep, ragged
breath and choked back the rest of her sobs. “I’m . . . s-sorry, Jamie,” she
apologized. “I c-can’t help it. I d-don’t seem to have any c-control.”
She took two more deep
breaths. Then she managed a small smile. “I’m sorry I frightened you. It was
like waking up from a horrible nightmare. But it’s fading now. I’ll be all
right.”
Until
next time, Jamie
thought, but she said nothing aloud. Instead, she smiled back. “Do you remember
what happened?”
“Enough.” Nan shuddered and explained
a little of her experiences.
Jamie nodded. “Sounds like
the agonizer. It’s awful.”
Nan buried her head in her
hands. “Awful doesn’t begin to describe it. They kept increasing the level and
the duration until I thought I would die from the pain. I can’t stand it.”
She locked gazes with Jamie.
“I’m afraid I will report the news exactly as they say. I haven’t any choice.”
“You don’t. Be glad they
only used the agonizer. There are worse things. If they thought you were hiding
something, they wouldn’t hesitate to use the mind-sifter on you. But . . .”
Jamie sighed. “There wouldn’t be much left of your mind if they did that.”
Nan made a move to get up.
“Help me to a bunk, would you? I feel as though I could sleep a week.”
Jamie helped the newswoman
collapse onto the bunk. Then she reached a tentative hand to Nan’s neck and
fingered the jeweled neckpiece. “What’s this?”
Nan touched her neck. “I
don’t know. What does it look like?”
“It’s a necklace, though
it’s awfully tight for one. More like a pretty collar. All kinds of jewels—red,
blue, yellow. They twinkle.” Then she shrugged. “I wonder what it’s for.”
“I have no idea. They must
have put it on me after I collapsed. It’s pretty snug.” Nan sighed and closed
her eyes. “I’m so tired.”
Jamie boosted herself onto
the cot beside her friend. “Nan?”
Nan peered at Jamie through
half-closed eyes. “Yes?”
“I have an idea. It’s not a
very good one, but it’s better than sitting around here waiting for something
bad to happen.” She pointed at a small square of metal near the ceiling of the
cell. “See that air vent?”
Nan craned her neck and
nodded.
“I want to crawl around and
see where it goes,” Jamie said. “Maybe I can find Meyla. Or find a way out of
here. If nothing else, I’d like to find myself a good hiding place in case Ms.
Feldman comes for me.” She shivered. “It’s not Commander Kor I’m afraid of.”
“The vent looks small.”
“I think I can fit. I’m not
very big.”
Nan shook her head wearily.
“No, Jamie. It’s too risky. I could never face your dad if I let you go off and
get hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt,” Jamie
insisted. “And . . . and I’m going anyway.”
Sometimes you have to do
things you don’t want to do, she
told herself silently. Even if a grownup says no. Especially if the grownup
is so sick and hurting that she doesn’t know what she’s saying.
Jamie took a deep breath. “I
have to find a way out. Or a place to hide. And I need you to pretend I’m still
here, just in case a guard comes along to check up on us. I’ve already stuffed
blankets under the covering on my bunk. You just need to talk to it once in a while,
or pat it and cry.”
“Oh, Jamie, no,” Nan
mumbled.
“I’ve had lots of time to
think it through.”
“What if the Klingons come
back for another session with their agonizer?”
“It won’t happen before
morning, Nan. They have to let you recover from the agonizer before going at
you again. Too much at one time might destroy your nerves, then you don’t feel
anything. You’re not much use to them that
way.”
Nan sighed. “For a little
girl, you certainly know a number of gruesome facts about Klingons.”
“I wish I didn’t know anything
about Klingons,” Jamie said. “I wish I had never met one in my whole, entire
life!”
She instantly regretted her quick
words. After all, wasn’t Kor going to help her? And the boy, Kerla, had been
nice to her a long time ago. It’s just that there are more scary Klingons
than there are nice ones.
She pulled on Nan’s arm.
“Can you boost me up to the air duct?”
Nan finally agreed and
stumbled over to the wall. Jamie climbed onto her shoulders and yanked the vent
cover loose. It swung open. Then she grabbed the edge, and with Nan’s help
shimmied into the narrow, cramped spaces of the Korbin’s ventilation system.
Nan closed the swinging
cover shut with a soft click. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
The ventilation shaft of the
Korbin was much narrower than Jamie
expected. It was filthy too. She soon found herself covered with a thick layer
of dust. She rubbed her nose to
keep from sneezing.
Jamie had no idea what she
hoped to gain by this adventure. She was pretty sure wouldn’t stumble onto
Meyla’s quarters down here on the detention level.
If
Nan didn’t feel so rotten, she’d know that too. In fact, she could have kept me
from going if she really didn’t want me to do this. She must be really, really
sick.
Jamie shivered and brushed
away the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. Then she kept crawling.
Maybe
I can find a storeroom and escape from detention. Or maybe I can find Commander
Kor. He’s nice . . . for a Klingon. Maybe he’ll hide me from Ms. Feldman. I’m
really scared of her.
The
air shaft was pocketed with
small screens that let in a fair amount of pale light, but none of the screens
she peered through offered anything hopeful. They led to detention cells
identical to the one she had just left.
A few minutes later, Jamie
heard a clanging sound and a number of harsh voices. She brought her face close
to the screen on her left. Through it she saw a large room filled with tables,
chairs, games, weapons . . . and a handful of Klingons. They were lounging
around the tables, eating and drinking. They looked bored. A couple of the
guards were arguing.
“It’s your rotation, Braas,”
a loud, rasping voice snapped. “Check on the prisoners, or the commander will
have the agonizer on you.”
Braas made no move to leave
his drink. “A weakling female and a small brat are going somewhere? I’ll check
’em when I’m done with this drink.”
“You’ll check ’em now, private!” An older Klingon yanked
Braas from his seat and landed a fist to his jaw. “I don’t care if this
milk-run’s not to our liking, or that the commander seems to have gotten
soft-bellied toward our enemies, but you’re going to do your job.”
Braas landed with a thud
against the far wall. He shook his head groggily and pulled himself up with a
grunt. “You may be loyal to Kor,” he growled, “but it’s K’traz who’ll have the
last word aboard this ship.”
“Get out of here before I
put the agonizer on you myself!” the Klingon bellowed. “There’s something going
on aboard the Korbin that I don’t think even Kor is aware of. Something
K’traz”—he spat—“and that half-breed renegade female have cooked up between
themselves. I don’t like it.”
“It’s true the commander has
been in an abominable mood the past couple of weeks,” another officer agreed.
“Is there a way of finding out what’s happening?”
“That kind of talk will get
you the agonizer. We know nothing. We follow orders. That’s the best way to
stay alive.”
There were murmurs of
agreement, then silence as the Klingons fell into their seats. The hapless
Braas stumbled from the room.
Jamie shivered at the talk
of trouble aboard the Korbin. She
scrambled past the vent.
She was ready to concede
defeat as far as finding any side passages to explore, when she saw an opening
to her right. Yay! She could use it to turn around and head back. Butt as she scooted
into the vent, she noticed a bright square of light brighter than any she had
yet seen. Curious, Jamie approached it.
Suddenly, something grew
warm against her chest. She reached down the neckline of her tunic and pulled
out her Ice Flake. Then she gasped.
Jamie had forgotten she was
wearing her Ice Flake. She’d kept it hidden under her shirt to avoid curious
stares and questions. Now, as she pulled it out, she saw it swirling with
patterns of glowing blues and purples. At the same time, it grew hotter. Jamie
let it drop. She watched it pulse angrily at the end of its chain.
Why is it glowing and
heating up?
Perhaps the answer lay
behind the bright square of light just ahead. Cautiously, Jamie put her face to
the screen. She was rewarded with the sight of a large room equipped with all
kinds of high-tech equipment. It was obviously a lab.
Three Klingons dressed in
lab robes stood over an odd-looking device fitted with a Seri Stone. The stone
glowed in reds and yellows. It pulsed as one of the Klingons made an adjustment
to the knob holding the Seri Stone and another, more familiar stone—a dilithium
crystal.
Jamie watched the Klingons
exchange a look of triumph as they studied a computer simulation showing the
output of energy. It shot clear to the top of the screen and stayed there.
“That’s it.”
Jamie recognized the owner
of the voice. It was K’traz. He stared at the simulation with a look of
satisfaction. “You’re sure Kor knows nothing?”
“We’ve been careful,” the
shorter Klingon said.
“He’ll kill us, you know, if
he finds out what we’ve been doing behind his back, and behind the back of the
Klingon High Command,” K’traz said. “But our discovery is worth the risk, and
soon our victory over the other clans will be assured.”
Jamie turned cold inside.
Whatever these Klingons were doing had something to do with the Seri Stones, something
they didn’t want Kor to find out about. She felt for her own stone. It was
still hot to the touch. Whatever they were doing to the Seri Stone in the
machine was affecting her own stone, even though it wasn’t anywhere near the
others.
K’traz let out a long, slow
breath. “Congratulations, kinsmen. We have done it. When the K’tron Clan
controls the Council, you will be able to name your own price.”
The tall Klingon nodded his
agreement. “Anyone would pay a king’s ransom for a weapon of this magnitude.
Coupled with dilithium crystals, Seri Stones will make our weapons invincible.”
He pointed to the power curve on the screen. “They’ll slice through a ship’s
shields like a hot knife through butter.”
K’traz nodded. “We will soon
control Jovita’s Seri Stones.” He bent close to his companions. “Tell no one of
this. We will unveil our new weapon after
we win the trade agreement. We will then annex Jovita into the Empire and take what we need of their
stones.”
K’traz exited the simulation program and
pulled a small computer disk from the machine. “Here is the procedure, the
matrices—all the data pertaining to our device. Make copies of this disk for
the Clan. And don’t forget to encrypt it. Then secure the disks in a safe
place. It won’t do for Kor to stumble across this.”
He rubbed his hands together
in anticipation. “Once we take Jovita, we will strike such a blow to the
Federation that the Organians will be caught off guard.”
The others grinned. “So be
it!”
“Dismantle the equipment and
store it away before Kor decides to come snooping around. He’s been asking too
many questions of late.” K’traz smiled. “Then we’ll drink in celebration.”
He swept from the room
without a backward glance.
The two Klingons watched him
leave. “K’traz gets all the glory while we do all the work,” the shorter one
complained. “I’m for a drink before we tackle this. What do you say?”
“Certainly, kinsman. We’ll
lock the lab and be back in a minute.” The two Klingons slipped quietly from
the room.
Jamie let out the breath
she’d been holding. She hadn’t understood half of what they were talking about,
but she didn’t need to be an engineer to figure out that the Klingons had
discovered a weapon of great power. A weapon that could be used against the
small planet of Jovita and against the Federation.
She bit her lip and looked
at the countertop, where the data disk lay.
This
is bad, she thought. Daddy needs to warn the Federation about
what the Klingons are up to. She swallowed. I guess I’ve got to tell
him.
Jamie stared at the disk.
She knew what she had to do. She just didn’t want to do it. Daddy didn’t
believe me about Ms. Feldman being the spy. I guess I’d better get the disk, so
he’ll believe me this time.
Jamie’s hands shook. What
she was about to do was certainly the scariest, dumbest, and bravest thing she
had ever tried to do.
Don’t
do it! A little voice
warned.
Jamie didn’t listen to the
logical voice inside her head. She pushed hard against the wire grate covering
the ventilation shaft. It swung open easily. She looked down and gulped.
Here
goes nothing. She
tumbled to the hard deck with a yelp.
Jamie scrambled to her feet,
breathing hard. She ducked behind some crates and glanced at the door. It
remained closed. She looked up at the vent from which she’d fallen and groaned.
It was out of reach.
“You’ve really gotten
yourself into a mess this time, Cadet,” she muttered. “Mr.
Spock would not be pleased. This is so not
logical.”
Jamie tried not to think
about what would happen if the guards returned. Heart pounding, she raced to
the countertop and snatched up the dark-bronze disk. Then she fished through
the drawers and found a plastic box full of multi-colored disks—bronze, silver,
magenta, and gold. She chose a bronze one and set it carefully back in place on
the counter.
Sliding the data disk into
her boot, she hurried across the lab and leaped for the ventilation shaft. Her
fingers caught the edge, but she couldn’t pull herself up. It was too high. She
tumbled to the ground, breathing hard.
K’traz
will make sure I never see the Enterprise again if he catches me in
his secret lab.
Her heart raced in terror
and she renewed her efforts to reach the duct.
Omph!
No use. She simply could not jump high enough.
Shaking, Jamie scanned the
lab for something she could use as a
step. A couple of storage crates caught her attention, and she ran for them.
They were empty.
She pushed them beneath the
shaft and went back for two more. She tried to arrange them to look slightly
tossed aside. She hoped the Klingons would come back and tear down their
equipment with no further delays. Maybe they would be in such a hurry that they
wouldn’t notice a bunch of crates piled up against the wall.
Jamie scrambled up on the
crates and entered the airshaft with a grateful sigh. She began scooting her
way back to the brig, when the memory of the open grate slammed her to a sudden
halt.
Yikes!
Even the stupidest Klingon would notice a screen hanging open.
Crawling as fast as she
could, Jamie made her way back to the main duct, turned the corner, backed up,
then headed face-first back to that awful lab. She was panting by the time she
returned. She reached out and caught the grate. Pulling with all her might, she
slammed the screen shut just as the door to the lab whooshed open and the two
scientists returned.
Jamie didn’t wait around to
watch them break down their equipment. She scurried through the air ducts. Her
breath came in little gasps. She felt
no pride or satisfaction in what she had just done, only a sense of relief that
she had not been caught.
At least not yet.
“Nan!” she called softly
when she reached the screen of her cell.
The woman stirred. “Jamie?”
She stood up and made her way over to the vent. “I’m here. Come down.”
Jamie pushed herself through
the narrow opening and into Nan’s arms. She clung to the newswoman, sobbing.
Tear streamed down her face.
Nan secured the grate and
carried Jamie to her bunk. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you okay? You’ve been
gone a long time.”
“Oh, Nan,” Jamie managed
between sobs. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
“You’re a sight. Anybody could
see you’ve been up to something.” She hurried to the tiny sink and returned
with a moist rag. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Jamie allowed Nan to wash
her face and hands and brush the dirt from her clothes. Then she crawled onto
her bunk and wrapped a blanket around her trembling shoulders.
Nan sat beside her and laid a gentle hand on her back. “Everything’s going to be okay, Jamie. Go to sleep. I’ll stay right here beside you all night.”
Chapter 16
They came for Nan Rushmore in the morning.
Jamie watched with wide,
scared eyes as they dragged the news reporter away for another “training
session.” She sat on her bunk, the computer disk buried safely in her right
boot, and tried to hold back her tears.
They’re
gonna kill her, Jamie
thought, sick at heart. I’m sorry, Nan! I
can’t help you. Not one teensy bit!
Jamie dared not try to
interfere. There was nothing she could do. No pleading would do any good with
those scary-looking Klingon guards.
“Your turn’s coming, brat,”
one of the guards barked on his way out. He laughed and snapped on the force
field.
Jamie jumped, startled. If you knew what I’m hiding in my boot, you
would take me right now.
She wondered how long it
would take the Klingon scientists to figure out they were making copies of a
blank disk.
“And there’s a bigger
problem,” Jamie whispered to herself when Nan was gone. “How will I ever get
this disk to Daddy? It’ll be too late once that trade conference ends. If the
Klingons have won Jovita, then I stole it for nothing.”
The sound of running
footsteps brought Jamie back to the dull reality of her prison cell. She looked
up and saw Princess Meyla flutter to a stop just on the other side of the force
field.
She was scrubbed and fresh
and wore a new dress. Her hair shone, and she was smiling brightly. One of her
Jovitian aides stood behind her, along with Commander Kor.
“Hello, Jamie,” Meyla
chirped happily.
Jamie stared at the
princess. Why does she sound so happy?
Can’t she see I’m not happy at all?
Then she glanced at the
commander. She thought about giving the computer disk to him. Kor obviously
knew nothing about the experiments going on aboard his ship.
Don’t
be stupid! she told
herself. Kor might be angry over things done in secret, but he was still a
Klingon. He would not pass up an opportunity to best the Federation. He’d
probably get into a huge fight with K’traz then hand the disk back to him.
“Jamie?” Meyla called.
“What’s wrong?”
Jamie slid from her cot and
approached the force field, being careful not to touch it.
“What . . . what are you
doing here, Meyla?”
Meyla’s pretty face twisted
into a confused frown. “Aren’t you happy to see me? I’ve missed you. I wanted
to know if you have been treated well, and my councilors finally gave in and
allowed me to see you.”
“They haven’t tortured me
yet, if that’s what you mean. But as you can see”—Jamie spread her arms
wide—“this is not the best cabin on the ship.”
Kor grunted a soft chuckle.
“It’s cold and lonely,”
Jamie went on. “I want my father. I want to go back to the Enter—”
“That’s enough,” Kor cut in.
“Why is she still here,
Commander?” Meyla demanded. “Why can’t she be returned to the Enterprise?”
“You will have to take that
up with your councilors,” Kor replied.
Meyla peered at Jamie
through the force field. A light of understanding suddenly sparked in her eyes.
“It’s to make sure I do and say exactly as I’m told at the conference, isn’t
it?” She whirled on Kor. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’m
surprised you only now figured that out.”
“You lied to me. You didn’t tell me my friend was behind a force field,
cold and unhappy. And I suppose you lied about Ms. Rushmore too!”
Kor said nothing.
Meyla drew herself up. “I do
not wish to talk with my friend through a force field. It buzzes and hurts my
ears. Please lower the shield and allow me to pass into Jamie’s cell.”
The Jovitian advisor,
Tur’pov nodded. “Commander?”
Kor turned to the guard.
“Lower the shield.”
The buzzing noise
disappeared, and Meyla passed through the arch. Tur’pov followed.
Meyla turned on him. “Leave
us. I don’t like eavesdroppers. You’ve listened to every conversation I’ve had
with my uncle these past two days, but not now.”
Tur’pov scowled, opened his
mouth to protest, and looked at Kor.
The commander shrugged. “They’re
a couple of kids.”
Tur’pov nodded curtly and
stalked away.
“Tahmer,” Kor ordered the
security guard, “I’m returning to the bridge. When the princess has finished
her visit, escort her to her quarters.” He bowed respectfully to Meyla. “Please
limit your visit to ten minutes.”
“As you wish, Commander.”
As soon as Kor left, Meyla
rushed to Jamie and threw her arms around her neck. “Oh, Jamie,” she whispered
in her ear, “I’ve been so worried about you. I should have known they were
lying.” She choked back a sob. “I should have sensed it. Everything is
just as awful as it can be. What are we going to do?”
“Do?” Jamie shook her head.
“We can’t do anything. They’re bigger
than we are. We’re on their ship.” She lowered her voice. “Have you talked to
anyone from the Enterprise?”
Meyla nodded. “That’s why
I’m here. I promised Captain Kirk I’d see how you were doing.” She grasped
Jamie’s cold, dirty hands. “I wish I could get you out of here.”
“Me too.” Then Jamie drew
her close and whispered, “Meyla, listen to me. Last night I took a trip through
the air ducts.”
Meyla sucked in a breath.
“Not again!”
Jamie nodded. “I found
something important. I can’t tell you what it is, but it could change
everything. You’ve got to give it to my father.”
“How? He’s on the Enterprise.”
“Give it to him when you
beam down for the trade conference. Or give it to your uncle. Whatever happens,
it must get to my father, along with
a message.”
“What message?”
“That it’s from me, that I
found it on the Korbin, and that he has to look at it.”
Jamie peeked around Meyla.
The guard was leaning against the wall, eyes half closed. She felt along the
inside of her boot, pulled out the bronze computer disk, and placed it in her
friend’s hands.
Meyla wrinkled her forehead.
“What’s this?”
“It’s something I stole from
the Klingons, something important. Something dangerous.”
“You stole it?” Meyla’s eyes grew round.
Jamie
nodded.
Meyla handed the disk back.
“In two days we’ll reach Epsilon Hydrae IV. Why can’t you give it to the
captain yourself when we beam down?”
“I don’t think I’ll be going
down,” Jamie said bleakly. “Ms. Feldman has other plans for me. Bad ones, I
think.”
“What do you mean? Of course you’ll beam down. I’ll insist
that—”
“Meyla!” Jamie cut off her
silly speech. “Just give the disk to my dad.”
Meyla blinked and glanced
fearfully at the disk in her hands. “If this thing is as dangerous as you say,
then I don’t want any part of it. I’m frightened.” Huge tears rolled down her
pale cheeks. “I don’t like these Klingons.”
“Do you think I’m not
scared?” Jamie snapped. “I want to get off this ship, but I’m stuck. Really
stuck. I want my dad, and I . . . I . . .” She shook Meyla. “You must help
me.”
Meyla
shook her head.
Jamie
let go of Meyla. With shaking hands, she reached inside her shirt and drew out
her Ice Flake. “Here. Take it.”
Meyla
gasped. “But that’s yours for saving my life.”
“I’d rather you repaid me
another way.”
Meyla looked at the Ice
Flake necklace hanging from Jamie’s fingers, then at the computer disk. She
swallowed.
“Take the disk,” Jamie
pleaded. “Give it to my father. Please.”
“This means more to you than
an Ice Flake?”
“Lots more.”
“Your ten minutes are up,” the guard barked.
Suddenly, Meyla snatched the
disk, thrust it under her wide, blue sash, and pushed the necklace back toward
Jamie. “Keep it. I’ll do as you ask.”
Jamie threw her arms around
Meyla. “Promise?”
“A royal promise, my
friend,” Meyla agreed with a shaky smile. She allowed the guard to lead her
toward the exit. The force field snapped on.
“Thank you,” Jamie whispered
after her.
Chapter 17
Captain’s log: Stardate 2269.33
The Enterprise
is in orbit around Epsilon Hydrae IV, the site of the quadrant’s
much-advertised trade conference. The Seri Stone trade of Jovita is not the
only issue to be discussed during the long week ahead, but it is the only one
everyone seems to be talking about.
There are representatives
from every known trading outfit, and from some unknown ones, as well. The two
main competitors for the Seri Stone trade are, of course, the Klingon Empire
and the Federation. The outcome of this decision will determine not only who
receives the exclusive rights to buy and sell the famed Seri Stones, but also
which government has the best interests of Jovita in mind—according to the
Organian Peace Treaty—and thus have control over the planet.
I am confident the
officers and crew of the Enterprise made a positive, lasting
impression on the Jovetian delegation. I believe if it were up to Ben’yla, the
Federation would be chosen not only to trade with the Jovitians, but also to
offer our protection from the inevitable illegal mining operations that will
spring up as soon as this trading conference ends.
Unfortunately, Ben’yla is
no longer confident of the outcome of his government’s choice. He suspects that
a good number of the delegates who traveled aboard the Korbin
are sympathetic to the Klingon proposal and have been working hard to convince
their young princess the Klingon offer is best.
Kirk flipped the off switch on his recording computer,
rolled onto his back, hands behind his head, and stared at the cabin ceiling.
From his crew’s point of view, last night had been an evening to celebrate. The
Enterprise had gone back to its
24-hour rotation of alpha, beta, and gamma shifts and the protocol rules had
been dumped down the nearest disposal chute. Everybody was winding down from
the stress of the past two weeks.
Yet, from Kirk’s point of
view, this mission had been a headache from the beginning. His hands were
properly tied. There was no way to get Nan and Jamie off Kor’s ship, even if
the commander wished to do just that.
There
is something unsettling going on over there, Kirk decided. And a
Federation newscaster and my little girl are smack in the middle of it.
Kirk shifted uncomfortably
on his bunk. How do I get them off that
ship?
Despite Kor’s ongoing
threats to blast the Enterprise out of the sky, the commander was one of
the few honorable Klingons Kirk knew. If Kor gave his word, he kept it. He knew
Jamie and Nan were relatively safe, for now.
So
long as Kor remains in control of his ship. His stomach clenched at the thought of a mutiny aboard the Korbin.
The intercom’s shrill whistle
blared in his ear. “Kirk here.”
“Lieutenant Hanson, sir. You
wanted to know when we were within transporter range of the conference center.”
“Thank you, Hanson. Inform
the transporter room that Mr. Spock and I will be beaming down.”
“Aye, sir.”
When Kirk arrived at the
transporter room, McCoy was there to greet him, along with two red-shirted
security guards.
“What’s all this, Bones?”
“I’m coming too.”
“And the guards?”
“Didn’t you learn anything when we had those Jovitians
aboard? Honor guards are a symbol of importance. And at this conference,
importance is the only way we’re going to get in.”
“I suppose that’s why you’re
in your class-A’s?”
McCoy stopped to scratch an
itch at his neck. “Yes. Whatever it takes.”
“I see.”
McCoy held up another dress
uniform, only this one was green, with plenty of braid. “I took the liberty of
gathering up your tunic. We might even impress Councilor Grayson with these duds.”
“I doubt it.” But Kirk changed into his
class-A’s without an argument. When the door whooshed open and Spock joined
them, he noticed his first officer was similarly dressed.
“Bones got to you too, eh,
Spock?” Kirk said with a grin.
“Captain?” Spock’s eyebrows
rose.
Kirk brushed past his first
officer and strode to the transporter platform. “Forget it, Spock.” He motioned
the guards to join them. “Energize.”
They beamed down into a
huge, covered coliseum, the site of the conference. Not only were the Jovitians
represented at the exposition, but vendors and goods from all over the quadrant
hocked their wares in every square meter of the domed building.
Humanoids of every size and
shape wandered the corridors. Delegates from dozens of worlds sat around huge
tables, discussing prices and the availability of their products. It was a
mixture of chaos, beauty, and wealth.
Kirk asked an Andorian for
directions to the Federation/Jovetian talks and discovered it was clear on the
opposite side of the coliseum.
“Be advised,” the Andorian
told them, “that due to the delicate nature of these talks and the high level
of tension, you must have a security 6 clearance to proceed.”
Kirk nodded. “Understood.”
The Enterprise officers
glanced into the retina scanner. It beeped approvingly.
“You may pass,” the Andorian
said. “However, the guards may not.”
“Benson, Crewe,” Kirk
ordered, “remain here and stay alert for any trouble.”
“Aye, Captain,” they said as
one.
The trip through the
coliseum was a nightmare of weaving through countless bodies. By the time they
reached the Federation contingent, Kirk was sweating.
He recognized Councilor
Grayson and the Federation delegation in earnest conversation with the Jovitians.
They sat around a large table in a section of the coliseum cordoned off for the
talks. The Klingons were nowhere in sight.
“Captain Kirk!” Ben’yla
greeted the captain warmly and shook his hand. “I see you could not stay away.
You wish to observe as the Federation and the Klingon Empire engage in the
final battle to make a good impression on us?”
“Advisor, I think we both
know the battle is about over.”
Ben’yla lost his smile. “I’m
disappointed. I would have preferred the Federation. Your people seem the more
honorable of the two.” He shook his head. “But my lone voice will mean little
if Meyla endorses the Klingon offer. And we have yet to see what tricks the
Klingons have performed with your news reporter.”
“Your people will get a good
price for their Seri Stones,” Kirk assured him. “The princess won’t endorse the
Klingons’ offer if the price is not right.”
Ben’yla nodded. “So,
Captain, why are you really here?”
“To find a way to recover
Jamie and Ms. Rushmore,” Kirk answered with a heavy heart. “I’m hoping for a
chance to—” He broke off as the Klingon contingent made their way into the
area.
K’traz was in the lead. He
walked beside Tur’pov, the Jovitian advisor. Meyla walked just behind them,
looking serious and little scared. Behind the princess came Nan Rushmore,
dressed in a splendid outfit of bright colors. Her recorder panned the scene.
Her lips moved into her small microphone. She seemed at ease with the
situation.
Following close behind the
newswoman, the Jovitians from the Korbin strolled through the crowd, who parted for
the high-ranking visitors. Six distinguished-looking Klingons brought up
the rear of the delegation, the Klingon counterparts of Grayson and the
Federation ambassadors.
Kirk watched the procession
with wariness. They took their seats opposite the Federation group. The Jovitians
panned out on each side.
“Excuse me, Captain,”
Ben’yla spoke quickly. “I must greet my niece.”
Kirk and his companions
retired to the observers’ section, tiered seating just above and beyond the
table. The seating was made available for those who were not part of the
delegation proper but wished to observe the proceedings. It gave a clear view
of both sides. Other interested Federation people began to fill the seats.
From his excellent-viewing position,
the captain watched Ben’yla and the princess greet each other. The girl clung
to her uncle as they found their seats. She appeared to be speaking earnestly,
whispering in his ear.
She
looks upset, Kirk
observed.
Ben’yla laid a quieting hand
on his niece’s arm and shook his head.
“A worthless exhibition,” a
low, disgusted voice said in Kirk’s ear.
The captain whirled. Taking
the empty seat next to him, Commander Kor indicated the trade delegation.
“There sit the pompous diplomats from both our governments. A more stubborn,
narrow-minded, troublesome group of idiots I’ve never seen.”
Kirk was too surprised to do
more than offer a clipped greeting.
Kor nodded at Spock. “First
Officer Spock. We meet again.”
“Commander,” Spock replied
neutrally.
“This is McCoy,” Kirk
introduced him quickly. “My chief medical officer.” He turned back to Kor.
“Where’s Jamie?”
“You get right to the point,
don’t you, Kirk?” Kor said. “Refreshing.”
“Kor,” Kirk warmed.
“She’s aboard the Korbin,
in good health but not very happy with the current situation.”
“How do I get her back?”
“That will be difficult,”
Kor admitted. “But I will tell you what I know.”
“Go on.”
“The renegade female, Marrid
Feldman, will bring her planetside later today. The child is a guarantee that
the princess does and says exactly what her advisors have told her. Advisors
that support the Klingon plan.”
Kirk’s hopes soared. “Jamie
will be here at the conference?”
“Yes, but do not make the
mistake of thinking you will simply walk up and snatch her from Marrid. That
would be most ill-advised.”
“And after the conference?”
“Marrid intends to keep her,
for reasons of her own.” Kor’s eyes flashed in anger and annoyance. “That half-breed
woman is a menace, crazy with revenge. She should not be trusted with any
sentient lifeform, much less a young child.” He clenched his fist. “I suggest
you think of a plan to rescue your daughter. And it had better be a sneaky
plan, Kirk. Any plan that involves confronting Marrid face to face will fail.”
Kirk stared at Kor. “Why are
you telling me this?”
“I am a warrior, as you are.
This political intrigue disgusts me. I would dearly love to engage you in
honest, open battle. I would blow your ship into the afterlife without a
moment’s hesitation, with all aboard her. But I refuse to use an innocent child
to win something that my government fears we cannot gain honestly.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I
would never admit this to anyone else, Kirk, but an honorable enemy is the
next-best thing to a friend.”
Kirk nodded. Kor was indeed
an honorable enemy. He waited in silence. He sensed Kor had more to say, but it
was clearly difficult for him.
“There’s something going on
aboard my ship,” Kor finally said. “I don’t know what it is. Something
dangerous. K’traz has been strutting around too smugly the past few days for it
to be anything innocuous.”
Kirk held his breath. The
commander had just confirmed his own suspicions.
“It’s something with
consequences that could severely alter the balance of power in the galaxy. I
intend to find out exactly what, but by the time I do, it may be too late—for you,
for your daughter.” He sighed. “Maybe for any of us.”
With that, Kor stood, bowed to McCoy and Spock, and disappeared into the crowd.
Chapter 18
Jamie huddled in the corner of Marrid Feldman’s quarters. She was so tired that she could scarcely keep her eyes open. Fear clutched her from the inside out. Jamie didn’t think she could ever be as scared as when she was stealing that disk, but her fear had advanced to a whole new level. I might not ever see my—
“Stop
it!” Her voice echoed in the empty room. “I will see Daddy
again. He won’t leave me here. I know he won’t.”
But deep down inside, Jamie was not so sure. She’d seen the evil
gleam in Marrid’s eyes when she and that awful Klingon, K’traz had come for her
earlier in the day . . .
Marrid
lowered the force field and marched into Jamie’s cell. “Time to go, my pet.”
Jamie backed up against the
wall. “No. I want to see Commander Kor.”
“None of that,” Married
snapped. “I haven’t got all day.”
She stalked to the corner
and towered over Jamie. Her breath reeked of strange, Klingon odors. “Stop this
nonsense.” She clamped a tight hand around Jamie’s arm. With her other hand,
Marrid grasped a fistful of hair and yanked.
Jamie yelped and lashed out
with her foot. It connected with Marrid’s shin. “Let me go!” She squirmed and
kicked harder.
Marrid cursed. She grabbed
Jamie around the waist and encircled her neck with a narrow, intricately cut
band. Then she shoved her to the floor.
“What’s this?” Jamie asked,
breathing hard. Pitching a fit was a lot of work. She yanked at the piece of
jewelry at her neck. It didn’t budge. Her hand shook. This neckpiece looks
just like the one around Nan’s neck. Not good!
“You’ll find out soon enough.
Now, come on.”
Jamie stood her ground.
Marrid shrugged. “Have it
your own way, stubborn brat.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a
metal object. It was small enough to fit into the palm of her hand and was
decorated with jeweled buttons.
She placed a finger over one
of the buttons and pushed.
Jamie gave a sharp cry as
the necklace delivered a shock that reached clear to her toes.
Marrid raised her finger,
and the pain instantly disappeared.
Not good at all! Jamie’s eyes widened with understanding.
“Come with me,” Marrid
repeated her command.
Jamie glanced at the
controller in Marrid’s hand, gulped, and obeyed.
They had made it no farther
than the entrance to the detention level, when Commander Kor stepped up,
barring the way. His eyes flicked to the collar fastened around Jamie’s neck.
“This has gone far enough. You don’t need this girl to keep the princess
compliant. You will leave her here.”
“Why?” K’traz laughed. “So
you can send her back to the Enterprise? Marrid will determine what
becomes of the girl. It is her right.”
“Not any longer. I observed what
you’ve done to the newscaster. She may never recover from your little training
device. I will not allow the same thing to happen to this girl.” His hand went
to his belt knife.
K’traz and Marrid exchanged
amused glances. “An honor duel?” Marrid howled. “For a human brat?”
“I have no interest in a
duel of honor,” K’traz said. He unsheathed his own knife, but instead of
lunging at the commander, he laid the point of the knife at Jamie’s throat.
“There are larger stakes
here. The Empire will lay claim to Jovita and its riches, whether they agree or
not. Everything will be done quietly, so as not to bring the Organians rushing
in to stop us. This girl can help us accomplish that, but”—he tightened his
grip—“I can do it without her. Tell me quickly, Kor. Do Marrid and I go down to
the talks with this child, or do we leave her here, so you can send her back to
the Federation to bury?”
Kor’s face darkened in
anger, but he nodded and sheathed his blade.
K’traz let out a disgusted
breath. “Kor, you are a sheep, just like the Earthers. You would protect this
brat to your own doom.”
“Not true, K’traz. I am
trying to protect my ship. The
Enterprise is a powerful vessel, and her captain has a very long memory.”
He turned on his heel and
stalked away . . .
That had been hours ago.
Jamie hadn’t touched the food or drink Marrid had put out for her, and her
stomach gnawed with hunger. She had tried to sleep, but she was too terrified
to close her eyes. Who knew what she would wake up to?
She couldn’t even cry, for
Marrid had promised to zap her if she did. Her throat was clogged with unshed
tears.
The whoosh of the
door opening made Jamie jump to her feet in terror. Shaking, she watched Marrid
enter the room. A set of clothes was slung carelessly over one arm.
“Come here, my pet. I have
your new clothes. You cannot wear Starfleet colors when we go planetside. That would
draw attention to ourselves.”
“P-planetside?” Jamie
stuttered. I’m getting off this ship! Hope soared.
“Of course,” Marrid replied
with a frown. “How else will we remind the princess to continue to support our
offer for her planet’s Seri Stones?”
Jamie didn’t need to be
zapped to obey. The thought of escaping the Korbin propelled her toward
the Klingon woman.
Marrid ripped Jamie’s tunic
over her head and gasped in undisguised shock. “An Ice Flake of the rarest
beauty,” she whispered.
Jamie looked down. Her Ice
Flake hung suspended around her neck in full view. “You can have it if you give
me back to my father,” she said, heart pounding.
Marrid laughed. With a rough
hand, she grasped the Flake and yanked. The chain broke, and the Ice Flake hung
from Marrid’s greedy hand. “No deal. I shall just take it.”
She held up the necklace and
smiled. Then she set it aside and threw the Klingon clothing over Jamie’s head.
When she was dressed, Marrid led her to a mirror. “What do you think, brat? You look Klingon
yet?”
Jamie stared at herself in
the mirror. Instead of her gold uniform tunic, a silver and maroon tunic with a
wide sash around her waist covered her from her neck to her knees. It was itchy
and hot. And very ugly.
“It will take more than a
stupid outfit to turn me into a Klingon girl,” Jamie said with a scowl.
Marrid leaned close and
whispered in her ear. “We shall see. You belong to me now, and I hope you will
remember your training collar. I do not want to give you another lesson. Do you
understand?”
Jamie nodded wearily. She
was too tired to fight Marrid and too scared to run. That neckband controller
probably had a long range.
Marrid glanced to where the
food she had given Jamie remained untouched. “You must eat something.” She tossed
a new sack at Jamie. “It is Earther food, until you get used to your
surroundings. Eat it. We will be beam down in one hour.”
Jamie opened the sack and
drew out the most unlikely items she had ever seen—a hamburger and French
fries. Despite determination not to eat anything the woman offered, the sight
of the familiar food plunged her stomach into protest.
She sat down and gobbled up
every bite.
Chapter 19
James Kirk turned the small
bronze disk over in his hands then glanced at Ben’yla in confusion. “This is
for me? What is it?”
Ben’yla shrugged. “I have no
idea. Meyla insisted I give it to you as soon as I could.” He laid a hand on
the captain’s shoulder. “She didn’t tell me what it was, only that her friend
Jamie had given it to her to be passed on to you.” He smiled. “She made me
promise. Does that make any sense?”
“None at all.”
Ben’yla chuckled. “Perhaps
it is only a game the girls played to pass the time aboard the Klingon vessel.
At any rate, I have done what my niece asked, and now I must return to the
talks. It has been a long day. The Federation news reporter is making quite a
case for the Klingons.” He shook his head as though he couldn’t quite
understand Federation behavior.
Kirk turned to Spock and
gave him a questioning look. “What do you think?”
Spock
took the disk and raised an eyebrow. “It is intriguing, Captain. With your
permission, I will return to the ship and discover what the disk contains.”
“By all means,” Kirk said.
He frowned. “Why would Jamie want to give me a computer disk from a detention
cell on the Korbin?”
McCoy shrugged. “Maybe that
disk will tell us.”
Kirk agreed. “Let me know when you find out
anything, Spock.”
“Of course.”
The captain was about to
return to the observers’ section, when a tight grasp on his arm brought him to
a standstill.
“Jim.” McCoy pulled him to
the side of the crowded aisle. “Take a look.”
Kirk whirled and froze. A
dozen meters away, a group of Klingons were making their way toward the huge
conference table. Kirk backed away and watched their approach.
K’traz was in the lead, along with a number of
guards. Marrid Feldman brought up the rear. She was leading Jamie by the hand.
Kirk choked back a shout of
rage. His daughter was trussed up like some kind of Klingon prize. Her head was
down, and she shuffled alongside the Klingon woman like a sleepwalker.
“Jamie!” he called.
Jamie gave no response.
“What the devil is wrong
with her?” he demanded. “Jamie!” he shouted and lunged forward.
McCoy stopped him. “Remember
Kor’s warning.”
“I don’t care. I won’t stand
around and let that Klingon woman parade Jamie around like some spoil of war.”
He took two more steps.
McCoy gripped his arm. “Jim.
Don’t.”
“Excellent advice, Dr.
McCoy.” Marrid’s voice was a sliver of ice. She gave the officers a look of
triumph and drew near, Jamie firmly in tow.
“Take one last look, Captain
Kirk. You will not see her again. After I use her to sway the princess to our
side, I intend to take her back to Kronos.”
Kirk
clenched his fists and stood his ground. Only Kor’s warning not to confront
Marrid face to face kept him from flying into the woman and giving her the
beating she so richly deserved.
“Why
are you doing this?” he demanded. “What purpose does it serve? She’s just a
child.” He reached out to touch his daughter, but Marrid yanked her close to
her side.
Kirk dropped his hand.
“Jamie, honey, look at me.”
Jamie kept her eyes on the ground
and didn’t move.
“She knows whom to obey.”
Marrid smiled said in satisfaction. Then she nudged her prisoner. “You may look
at him, this once.”
Jamie raised her head, but
she said nothing.
“I’ll get you out of this
mess, Cadet. I promise.”
No answer. Not a nod or a
blink. Just the terrified look of a small, helpless animal caught in a trap. It
tore at his heart.
Marrid laughed. “Foolish
promise, Captain.” She nudged Jamie again. “Go on. You have permission to say
good-bye.”
“Go on,” Marrid said
impatiently. “Before I change my mind.”
Jamie took an uncertain step
toward her father then looked back. Marrid nodded. She was smiling, but Jamie
knew she wasn’t being nice.
It’s a mean, nasty smile.
Like someone who likes to hurt people and laughs when she does. I hate her!
Marrid would enjoy watching her
say good-bye for the last time.
Just then, Jamie determined
that she would not give that evil Klingon woman the satisfaction of knowing how
much she was hurting inside. She would be strong.
I’ll
show her! She can’t make me cry. I’m a Starfleet cadet. Besides, Daddy promised
to get me out of this mess. I just have to hang on and be strong
But as her father’s strong
arms went around her, Jamie couldn’t hold back her tears. They had been stuck
in her throat all day, and she couldn’t help it. She sobbed. Great,
heart-wrenching sobs.
She clung to him, squeezing
his neck so tight that she was sure she was choking him. Her throat was too
tight to say good-bye. It was too tight to say anything at all.
“That’s enough.” Marrid snapped
her fingers.
Just like that, Jamie let go
and jumped back. She scurried to Marrid’s side without a word. Then she turned
and followed her captor to the conference table.
Kirk groaned. He took a step
to follow Jamie and the Klingon woman, but a strong arm pulled him back.
It was Kor. “Leave her for
now.”
Kirk threw off the
commander’s grip. He was shaking with anger and helplessness. “Leave
her? How can I leave her with that . . . monster? What’s
wrong, Kor? Jamie looked at Ms. Feldman before saying or doing anything. She’s
obviously scared out of her wits.”
“I imagine she is. For a
good reason. Did you see the jeweled neckband she was wearing?
Kirk nodded.
“It’s a special collar. She
won’t misbehave often.”
“What are you saying?” Kirk
snapped.
“It’s a training collar. It delivers
a mild, or not so mild shock, depending on the trainer’s whim. It’s very
effective on the Klingon animal population, especially those that are difficult
to bring under control any other way.”
Kirk stared at Kor.
“It is a variation of the
agonizer, with which you are no doubt familiar. It makes even the most stubborn
creature compliant.” He gave Kirk a look of approval. “Jamie demonstrated
considerable self-control.”
“There must be something I
can do. I can’t abandon her.”
“The settings can kill,” Kor
warned. “I have no doubt Marrid will use those settings if you confront her.
You must leave your daughter until you come up with a plan to rescue her in
such a way as not to give Marrid any warning.”
He nodded toward the conference
table. “And if you think it is only your daughter who is in danger, think
again. Then take a good look at the jewelry around the reporter’s neck. Ms.
Rushmore is performing as instructed, for the same reason as Jamie.”
Kor turned on his heel and
left.
The communicator signaled.
“Kirk here,” he answered, drained.
“Spock here. Captain, you
must return to the ship immediately. Something has come up that requires your
attention.”
“I can’t leave right now,
Spock. Can’t it wait?”
“Negative, Captain. It is
imperative that you return.”
Kirk stared helplessly at
his communicator then at McCoy.
“You’d better find out
what’s got Spock riled up,” the doctor suggested. “If I didn’t know better, I’d
say our logical Vulcan is distressed. I’ll stick around and keep track of
Jamie.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, Jim. I won’t leave her.”
“All right, Bones.” He spoke
into the communicator. “Beam me up.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kirk was
staring at the computer screen with growing alarm. “Run it again.” He watched
the program run a second time then turned to Spock in disbelief. “Is this even
possible?”
Spock’s expression was
grave. “If the computer simulation is accurate, and there is no evidence to
suggest otherwise, then this weapon is by far the most serious threat facing
the Federation.”
“If the Klingons win the
trading rights to the Seri Stones, they . . .” Sulu’s voice trailed off in
obvious horror at the potential destructive power of the weapon.
“They will become a threat
we may not be able to withstand,” Spock finished.
“The power curve of this is
incredible,” Scott broke in. “On the order of ten to the—”
“Gentlemen,” Kirk
interrupted. “There’s no time to discuss the details of this new discovery. We
must take action.” He looked around the table. “Recommendations?”
“The Jovitians must be
warned of the true reason the Klingons want exclusive trading rights with
them,” Spock said. “Once they have a sufficient number of Seri Stones to
construct a prototype of this weapon, the planet Jovita will be the most
logical choice as a target. The Klingons rarely continue to buy what they can
get for nothing.”
Kirk folded his hands and
laid them on the table. He locked gazes with his first officer and friend. “Mr.
Spock, you know I can’t take this disk down to the trade conference and project
it on a screen. Have you forgotten the Klingons are holding two Federation
citizens as a guarantee for securing the stones? If I reveal this new
information, the Jovitians will withdraw their support of the Klingon offer.
How do you suppose the Klingons will react to that?”
“Poorly,” Spock admitted.
“Worse than poorly,” Kirk shot back. “They will conclude,
and rightly so, that someone stole this top-secret disk out from under their
noses. They won’t have to look far to find the guilty. Jamie will be in grave
danger.”
“Jamie is already in grave
danger, Captain,” Spock countered. “You must present this to the Jovitians.
You have no choice. The Jovitians will sign their own death warrant if they
support the Klingon proposition.”
“I will not share this until
we come up with a plan to get Nan Rushmore and Jamie out of there,” Kirk
insisted.
“What’s preventing the Enterprise from beaming them aboard
right now, Captain?” Sulu wanted to know.
“Mr. Kyle is good at his
job, Lieutenant, but even he would have a hard time sorting out two specific
human life signs in a conference of over ten-thousand. It’s packed
down there.”
“But Captain,” Uhura broke
in. “It wouldn’t be difficult to lock onto two humans with subcutaneous translators
implanted.”
The briefing room went
quiet.
“What did you say?” Kirk
whispered.
“Well, sir,” Uhura continued
cheerfully, “unless someone has removed the translation devices that Nan
Rushmore and Jamie have been wearing the past couple of weeks, they should be
easy to track. Each has its own unique signature, which comes through loud and
clear.”
“How long would it take you to
locate them by the translator implants?”
“Would five minutes be too
long?” Uhura smiled and rose from her seat.
Kirk grinned his answer then
turned to his engineer. “Scotty, I want you to handle this precision beaming
personally.”
“Aye, sir.” Scott stood.
“Uhura, when you get a fix
on Jamie and Ms. Rushmore, let Mr. Scott know. I’ll be in the transporter
room.”
“Yes, sir,” came the hasty
reply.
“By the way, Lieutenant . .
.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Well done.”
“Why, thank you, sir.”
Chapter 20
Jamie leaned over the
tabletop and rested her weary head on her arms. Her throat was tight with
unshed tears. She sniffed them back and gazed across the table at Princess
Meyla, who smiled and waved.
Jamie did not wave back. She
didn’t smile, either. The princess has no idea what’s happening to Ms.
Rushmore and me.
Jamie had entertained a
slight hope that her father would come to her rescue, but that was before she
saw him an hour ago and had seen the horrified look on his face.
“I’ll get you out of this
mess, Cadet. I promise.”
Jamie wasn’t sure he could
keep that promise anymore. She had wanted to tell him how scared she was, but
she knew she didn’t dare. Her whole body tingled painfully just thinking about
disobeying Ms. Feldman.
She shifted and watched Nan
Rushmore report on the progress of the trade conference, for the entire
quadrant to hear. Jamie felt sorry for her newscaster friend. Nan wore jeweled
neckband similar to Jamie’s but much prettier. It glittered brilliantly and
complemented her outfit. Only Nan and Jamie—and the Klingons—knew what it
really was.
Nan looked pale and sick,
but her voice was strong as she presented the proposals to her audience. The
newswoman caught Jamie’s gaze and gave her a quiet thumbs-up. Survive and succeed.
Jamie nodded. She strained to hear what Nan was discussing
with the other news reporter, who was covering the event for another news
service—Independent News. Nan gave the man a slight nod then
turned toward the camera and spoke in a loud, clear voice.
“Those of you who have been
following the talks here on Epsilon Hydrae IV will no doubt be fascinated by
what I am about to tell you. The Seri Stones are important to both the
Federation and the Klingon Empire. However, they are slightly more important to
the Empire, though I haven’t a notion why.”
She took a deep breath. “They
are so important to the Klingons that the representatives here have cast aside
honest persuasion and resorted to kidnapping and coercion to further their
gain. They kidnapped the princess of Jovita, myself, and a young girl for the
purpose of . . . of—”
Nan gasped and broke into a
fit of choking coughs. She flung her arms out in front of her and grabbed at
her neck.
Jamie watched in horror as
Nan struggled to breathe.
The Klingons leaned forward
as if surprised at this sudden interruption. They frowned among themselves.
K’traz kept his hands hidden.
“Nan!” Jamie screamed. She leaped
up.
“Be silent,” Marrid hissed,
slamming Jamie back down into her seat.
Tears coursed down Jamie’s
cheeks. She knew that with this act of defiance, Nan Rushmore was going to die.
Not if I can help it!
It was a crazy, impulsive
decision, but Jamie sprang away, taking Marrid by surprise. She slipped out of
the woman’s grasp and raced toward Nan.
The Jovitians and other
bystanders watched in stunned confusion.
“The Klingons are killing
her!” Jamie shrieked at the crowd.
Then a piercing, stabbing
pain surged through Jamie’s body, forcing her to the ground. She couldn’t
breathe. She couldn’t think. Darkness overtook her. She felt a tingling
sensation and saw twinkling lights.
I must be dying. Then Jamie gave in and let the lights
take her away.
The transporter had barely
finished it cycle before Kirk was sprinting onto the platform. Jamie lay in a
crumpled heap, still as death. He scooped her up in one quick motion and held
her close. She can’t be dead!
“Jamie, wake up. You’re safe
now.” He spared a quick glance at the other figure lying just as still on the
transporter platform. It was Nan Rushmore, and she looked dead.
“Another signal’s coming
through,” Scott said. “McCoy.”
The transporter hummed, and
the doctor formed. He immediately ran a scanner over Jamie. Then he looked up.
“She’s in no immediate danger, Jim. She’ll pull through.”
Then he bent over Nan, and
his breath caught. “Get Ms. Rushmore to sickbay,” he barked at the medical team
that had magically appeared. “On the double.”
The medical team gently
lifted Nan onto the anti-grav sled. McCoy ran a scanner over her body. “I don’t
know if I can save her, Jim.”
Kirk gave a quick nod of
acknowledgement, but his attention was focused on Jamie. She looked terrible.
Dark circles marred her eyes, and her neck was swollen and bruised where the
band encircled it.
A gentle hand on his
shoulder made the captain jerk.
“Jim,” McCoy said softly.
“Don’t just stand there. Bring her to sickbay. I want to check her out
thoroughly and make sure that band isn’t interfering with her breathing.”
Kirk nodded but continued to
hold Jamie tightly to his chest. “Thanks, Scotty,” he whispered as he slipped
through the transporter room doors and down the corridor to sickbay.
For the first time in days,
Jamie felt warm. Too warm. Somebody was
holding her, carrying her. Crushing her until she could hardly breathe.
Daddy, help me! she wanted to shriek. But she couldn’t.
She didn’t dare make a peep. Ms. Feldman, the evil Klingon woman, would zap her
again. And again. Her neck tingled like a million pins were poking her. It
hurts!
“Jamie, honey. Wake up.”
Daddy’s voice.
No. It was a dream. It had
to be. She was afraid to wake up. Afraid to open her eyes and find Ms. Feldman
smiling her evil smile.
“You’re safe now. You can
open your eyes. You’re with me.”
Was it true? Jamie opened
her eyes and gasped. Her father was carrying her down the corridors of . . . it
couldn’t be! The Enterprise!
“Daddy?” she croaked. “How
did I get here?”
“It appears that Mr. Scott
beamed you and Ms. Rushmore aboard in the nick of time.”
Jamie tried to look around.
“Where is she?”
“In Sickbay. Dr. McCoy is
taking care of her. I’m taking you there too. You look like you’ve had quite a
time.” He gave her a tired smile. “How do you feel?”
“Sick, Daddy. So sick. My
head hurts and I—” She swallowed. “It hurts to swallow, and now I feel like . .
. like . . . I’m gonna throw up.”
Kirk barely made it to the
head before Jamie followed through. Choking and crying, she let her last meal
come up. Her whole body shook from the effects of the agonizing necklace.
When her stomach was empty,
her father gently cleaned her up, brushed her hair out of her face, and picked
her up again.
Jamie encircled his neck
with shaky arms. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “It’s just that everything
felt swirly and dizzy and—”
“It’s all right,” Kirk
assured her with a smile and a hug. “That’s what fathers are for. To pick up
the pieces and make everything all right.” He squeezed her tight. “You are going
to be all right, you know. The good doctor said so.”
“I don’t feel all
right.” Jamie clung to his neck. “Don’t put me down,” she pleaded. “Just hold
me.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“They tortured Ms. Rushmore
with the agonizer over and over. But she was so brave. She told everyone at the
conference what the Klingons were really doing. Then she started choking and
dying, right in front of all those people. Nobody helped her. I ran to help,
but then everything started to hurt and . . . and . . .”
She started crying and
shivering. “Nan’s been zapped by the agonizer so many times, I don’t think
she’ll live through this last one.”
“If anyone can pull her
through, McCoy can.” They entered sickbay and Kirk gently laid Jamie down on a
diagnostic bed.
Nurse Chapel hurried over
with a smile on her face. “Dr. McCoy says you’ve been through the ringer, and I
need to give you all the TLC you can handle.” She held up a hypo. “But first, a
little hiss and we’ll get that shaking stopped.”
Jamie turned a terrified
look at her father. “Don’t leave me,
Daddy.”
Kirk leaned over and brushed
a light kiss across her forehead. “Listen to me. I don’t want to leave you, but
I have to beam down to the conference. There’s some unfinished Federation
business to attend to involving the Klingons. Nurse Chapel will take good care
of you.” He winked at the nurse. “Won’t you?”
“Of course, Captain. Jamie
and I are good friends.”
Jamie shook her head and
threw her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to go.”
Gently, Kirk untangled her
arms and sat down beside her on the bed. He picked up one of her hands. “Remember
that disk you gave Meyla?”
Jamie nodded.
“I looked at it. It’s very
important. It means life or death to the Jovitians. They must learn what the
Klingons have planned for them should they win the Seri Stone trade.”
“The weapon?” Jamie
whispered. She shivered.
“Yes. Meyla’s people will
die if the Klingons aren’t stopped.”
“All right,” Jamie
reluctantly agreed. “Go down and help Meyla.”
Kirk squeezed Jamie’s hand.
“That’s my cadet.” Then he grinned. “How did you get hold of that disk, anyway?
Jamie looked at her lap. “I
stole it.”
Kirk’s eyebrows shot up.
“I’d love to hear all about it sometime, but I’ve got to run.” He sprang from
the bed and pointed a parting finger at her. “And you, young lady. Don’t you dare leave this ship.”
“No, sir,” Jamie replied fervently and lay down with a sigh. She gave
Nurse Chapel a worried look as her father hurried from sickbay.
“Don’t worry, Jamie,” Chapel
assured her. “Once the captain shows the Jovitians what’s on that disk, the
conference will be over.”
Chapter 21
Jamie spent most of the day
asleep. When she woke up, she was disappointed to learn that her father was
still at the conference. Then Nan Rushmore was settled into a diagnostic bed
next to her, and Jamie decided to keep vigil over her. She held her hand, spoke
in whispers about how she’d better get well quick, and stroked her hair.
But there was no sign that
Nan even knew Jamie was there.
When the captain finally
strolled into sickbay late that evening, Jamie abandoned her post. She bounded
across the room and into his arms. “Daddy, you’re back! So, what happened?”
Kirk scooped Jamie up and
gave her a hug. “Well, you’re looking perky this evening. No ill effects from
your unpleasant time with Ms. Feldman?”
Jamie pulled down the
neckline of her jumpsuit. “Just this red mark around my neck. Once Dr. McCoy
got that horrible collar off, the swelling went down right away. He says the
red marks will go away in a couple of days. And I feel lots better. I didn’t
even throw up anymore.”
“That’s good to hear,” he
remarked with a grin. He carried Jamie to Nan Rushmore’s bedside and peered
down at the sleeping woman. “How’s Ms. Rushmore?”
“Dr. McCoy says she’s going
to make it, but it’ll take another week of rest and some kind of treatment he
calls nerve therapy. I guess the
Klingons really tortured her bad, and it nearly wrecked some important nerves.”
“You’ve
summed it up nicely,” McCoy broke in. He wandered over to his patient and
checked the monitors. Then he turned to his captain and echoed Jamie’s
question. “So, what happened? The Klingons? The Jovitians? The Organians? The
Seri Stones?”
Kirk smiled and lowered
Jamie to the floor. “It was quite satisfying. I’ve never seen Commander Kor
look so shocked as when he saw what was on that computer disk. It proves he
wasn’t part of it, anyway.”
“I’m glad,” Jamie remarked.
“He was pretty nice, for a Klingon.”
“The Jovitians, including
the faction that originally supported the Klingon trading offer, voted to give
the trading rights to the Federation,” Kirk went on. “But it’s a limited
agreement. Because of the possibility of the Seri Stones being used for weapons
development, the cut Ice Flakes alone will be allowed to leave the planet. Only
raw Seri Stones can be used in the manner the Klingons wished, although cut Ice
Flakes do set up a resonant reaction if they are near a combination of the Seri
Stones and dilithium.”
“That’s a relief.” McCoy
sighed. “Just in time too. I imagine the Klingons felt the conference was not
going well after Jamie and Nan disappeared. The computer disk was the frosting
on the cake.”
“It gets better,” Kirk
continued cheerfully. “The Jovitians petitioned the Organians to keep the
Klingons away from their planetary system entirely. They feel the Klingons will
try to gain the Seri Stones any way they can.”
“That’s likely,” McCoy
agreed. “They don’t give up easily.”
“There’s more.” Kirk leaned
against the wall and crossed his arms, grinning. “The Organians decided the
Klingons’ secret work with the Seri Stones constituted a violation of the peace
treaty. They cordoned off the entire system for a diameter of ten light years.
The Klingons, of course, are hopping mad, and when the High Command hears about
it, heads will roll.”
“Commander Kor’s too?” Jamie
asked.
“No. I spoke with Kor.
K’traz, Marrid, and a few of the others were acting on orders from the minority
faction of the High Command. If they’d succeeded in their plans, no doubt that
group would have gained much power and prestige for their daring, but as it
is”—Kirk shrugged—“Klingons don’t easily forgive failure. Because it failed,
the Jovitians found out about their treachery and rejected their offer.”
He shook his head. “The
frightening part of all this is if the Klingons had acted in honesty, their
offer might have been accepted. It was as good as ours. They would have
obtained the stones, and who knows what would have happened then?
“I bet the Klingon High
Command is seething,” he finished. “Kor expects to be exonerated. He has
friends in high places and a very loyal crew. He was following the orders of
the majority in the High Command.”
“Does . . . uh . . . anyone
know how the data disk was stolen?” Jamie asked in a small voice.
“Not a clue, thankfully,”
Kirk said. “Although I suspect Kor figured it out. He made some very
interesting comments about his ventilation system before I left. I neither
denied nor confirmed his suspicions, because frankly, I have no idea how the
disk got to me, either.”
He gave his daughter an
unhappy look. “You disobeyed me and climbed around in the Korbin’s air ducts, didn’t you? Spying on the Klingons? Stealing
important state secrets?”
“No, sir!” Jamie shook her
head. “It’s true I climbed around in the Korbin’s
air vents. But I didn’t disobey you, Captain. You told me to stay out of the Enterprise’s ducts.”
Kirk’s eyes opened wide. “I
. . . you’re right.” Then he sighed. “But if the Klingons ever learn about
this, you could find yourself on their list of most-wanted criminals. Not a
pleasant thought.”
“Well, I’m never going to tell them,” Jamie assured him. She frowned.
“What about Starfleet? Do you suppose they’ll be upset with me?”
“They’ll probably want to
give you another medal,” McCoy said with a laugh.
Kirk frowned at his chief
surgeon. “They’re never going to find out about this.” He lifted Jamie’s chin
and regarded her seriously. “This has got to remain an Enterprise secret, Cadet. What Starfleet
knows others tend to find out—unfortunately. The most I can do is log a
commendation for the role you played in helping the Federation secure the
trading rights. However, but it will be based solely on your friendship with
the princess. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Jamie
nodded. “It’s just as well. I don’t want any attention from Starfleet.”
“Good idea, Jamie.” McCoy
laughed, then he glanced at his patient. “It looks like Ms. Rushmore is waking
up at last.”
Jamie turned around and bent
over the bed. “Nan, are you okay?”
Nan opened her eyes a crack.
It was clear she had no idea where she was. “Jamie,” she whispered hoarsely. “I
hurt all over, especially my throat. What’s been happening? Are we back in
detention?”
“Oh, no, Nan. We’re back on
the Enterprise. My dad rescued us.
Only, you’re very sick because you spoke against the Klingons, and they zapped
you really bad.”
“I . . . don’t remember,”
Nan mumbled. She closed her eyes.
“Jamie,” McCoy interrupted
gently. “That’s enough.” He started to pull her away, but Nan reached out and
grabbed her hand.
“Survive and succeed,” Nan whispered. A smile formed on her dry lips.
“We managed it, didn’t we?”
“Yes, Nan. And everything’s
going to be all right.”
“I know. Now that we’re back
on your Enterprise.”
Nan took a deep breath.
“When I’m well, I’m going to see that this ship and crew get the best
documentary of my life. I promise.” She closed her eyes, and her hand became
limp as she fell into a deep sleep.
“Come on, Jamie.” Kirk took her
hand. “Princess Meyla wants to see you one more time before she and her
entourage return to Jovita.”
He looked at the
chronometer. “The Newton leaves orbit in a couple of hours, so if you
want to say good-bye to your friend, we’d best beam over now.”
“Yes, I do want to say
good-bye.” Then she bit her lip. “Uh-oh. I just remembered that I lost my Ice
Flake. Ms. Feldman yanked it from my neck and kept it. I hope Meyla doesn’t ask
me about it. She might not understand.” She sighed. “That Ice Flake was worth a
lot of money. I’ll never get it back now.”
“What?” Kirk gasped in mock
dismay. “You left a priceless Ice Flake with the Klingons? I was going
to sell it and buy ourselves a nice little planet.”
“Daddy!”
Kirk chuckled. “I’m only
teasing. Ms. Feldman can keep that hunk of rock. I’d much rather have you.”
He squeezed her hand and led her across the room. His eyes suddenly lit up in
mischief.
“Come on, Cadet. I’ll race
you to the transporter room!”
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