Prologue

THE POLICE FLIERS swooped down like predatory birds,

descending at a steep angle in tight formation. It was

almost midnight, and the streets of the city were

deserted. The red and yellow lights on the exteriors of

the vacant office buildings switched to blue, closing off

the airspace as the police pursuit craft entered the

area. They came in dark, lights off, sirens silent, and

they came in fast.

    Lt. Joh Iano gave quick, last minute instructions to

the strike team over his helmet cornset as they

touched down, then the gull-wing doors of the sleek,

dark gray pursuit flier opened with a muted whine.

Iano and his partner came out running, their weapons

held ready. Behind them, the rest of the strike team

moved quickly into position, their faces invisible

behind the polarized visors of their black helmets.

1

 Each officer wore body armor and carried a high-

 capacity riot rifle in addition to his issue sidearm. The

 rebels would not be taken without a fight. They never

 surrendered, preferring to die rather than fall into the

 hands of the police. This time, Iano was determined

 to capture some of them alive.

     The raid had been planned quickly, but Iano wasn't

 taking any chances. He had several of the fliers peel off

 from the formation as they came in for a landing,

 blocking off the street on both sides, and he made sure

 that the rear of the building was covered as well. They

 were going to hit hard and they were going to hit fast.

 This time, the rebels were not going to get away.

    As the officers lined up in assault formation, Iano

quickly checked with the units at either end of the

street and behind the building. Everyone was in

position. It had taken months of trying to infiltrate

undercover officers into the rebel movement, but it

had finally paid off. The tip about the cell meeting

came in earlier that evening. It was to be a major

planning session, and some of the rebel leaders would

be in attendence. If they could capture the leaders,

they could break the back of the entire rebel under-

ground.

    Iano was about to order his men in when a panic-

stricken voice came over his helmet cornset. "We are

under attack! We are under attack.t"

    Iano winced as a piercing scream came over his

helmet speakers, followed by the crackle of frying

circuitry. At the same moment, the main body of the

strike team came under fire. Out of nowhere, bright

beams of force lanced through the night and struck the

strike team as it was drawn up in assault formation.

Iano heard screams coming over his helmet speakers

               2

as officers died all around him, incinerated by the

deadly beams. He brought his hands up to his head

and staggered. It was an ambush, and they had walked

right into it.

    For a moment Iano was disoriented. He glanced

around in all directions, trying to see where the fire

was coming from. It seemed to be coming from all

over. However, they couldn't even see who was firing

at them, and Iano had no idea what sort of weapons

they were using. He'd never seen anything like this.

The panic-stricken officers still standing scattered and

started firing in all directions, their rifles emitting

sharp pops and high-pitched whines as the projectiles

left the barrels, but the deadly beams kept right on

coming, cutting them down where they stood. As Iano

watched, numb with shock, bright auras of glowing

light wreathed the officers who were struck, then they

simply disappeared.

     "Pull back! Pull back! Retreat.t" he shouted into his

 comset as he ran back toward his pursuit flier. One of

 the beams missed him by inches and he felt the

 intense heat of its passage as he ran. What in the name

 of Ankor were the rebels using? He had never seen

 such devastating weaponry. He plunged into his flier

 and started its engines, shouting for his partner.

 Seconds later he saw him sprinting toward the flier.

 Then one of the beams stuck him. Iano heard an

 agonized scream over his comset as his partner be-

 came wreathed in an incandescent glow, then he saw

 him start to fall. His partner was gone before he could

 even hit the ground.

     Iano screamed. The doors came down and, still

 screaming, he slammed the stick back hard. The flier

 rose straight up into the air, turning as it gained

 3

 altitude. Through the canopy, Iano could see several

 other fliers getting off the ground, but one by one they

 were struck by the deadly beams and they exploded

 into blazing fireballs, raining wreckage down onto the

 street below. He saw the beams crisscrossing in front

 of him, and he aimed the nose of the flier straight up,

 then shoved the stick forward and hit the throttles.

     Iano was thrown back against his seat as the engines

 whined and the flier shot straight up, climbing rapid-

 ly, leaving the scene of carnage far behind. He kept

 going up and up until he left the air traffic lanes and

 was high above the city, then he came out of his climb

 and banked sharply, bringing the flier around.

      "All units, report!" he said into his cornset, breath-

 ing hard and trying to control his shaking.

   There was no response.

   "Repeat, all units! Report/"

   Silence.

    Iano sat numbly in his pilot's seat, unable to believe

what had just happened. They were all gone. All of

them. The entire strike team, thirty officers, all killed.

He was the only one left alive. His breathing came in

sharp gasps and he could not stop trembling. What

kind of weapons were those?

    It had been a trap, a devastating, horrifying am-

bush, worse than anything he had ever experienced.

They took out the units blocking off the street. They

were ready for the units covering the rear of building.

They knew the raid was coming and had set up a

devastating field of fire, covering all positions; a field

of fire such as he had never seen. Disintegrator beams.

The technology for weapons like that simply did not

exist on Patria! Yet thirty officers had died in a matter

of mere moments. He could not deny the evidence of

               4

his own senses. They never even had a chance. Iano

alone was left alive, and as he piloted his flier back

toward headquarters, his mind echoed with the dying

agony of those men, and of his partner. And he knew

that a part of him had died as well.

 "Lieutenant, are you absolutely certain--"

 "I told you what I saw!"

    "Lieutenant!" Commissioner Karsi said sharply.

"Do not forget to whom you are speaking!"

    Iano clenched his fists and took a deep breath,

trying to control himself. "Forgive me, Prime Minis-

ter. I meant no disrespect. But the facts, as far as I

know them, are all there in my report."

    It was almost dawn, and they were sitting in Prime

Minister Jarum's office, overlooking the central gov-

ernment district. The prime minister got up from

behind his desk and went over to the window. The sky

was turning light. He had not slept, and he was tired.

The heated debate at the Council meeting had run

very late into the night, and just as he was about to

leave for home, Commissioner Karsi had called with

the news of the rebel ambush.

    "Energy weapons," the prime minister said grimly.

"For the second time in as many days."

     "The second time?" Iano said, staring at the prime

 minister.

     "You did not hear that, Lieutenant," Commissioner

 Karsi said.

     "What difference does it make?" the prime minister

 asked wearily. "Thirty officers killed, right here in the

 city, only several blocks away from the government

 district. There is no possible way that we can keep this

 quiet now. The rebels have taken that option away

                5

 from us. He might as well know. In a matter of hours,

 everybody else will too."

     "There was an attack on a power distribution

 station just outside the city yesterday," Commissioner

 Karsi told Iano. "The entire southern district was

 affected. We managed to shift the load to another

 station, and we kept it quiet by reporting it as a

 malfunction and shutting down the area for public

 safety, but it was no accident. The rebels attacked

 with energy weapons. The entire station was de-

 stroyed. Fortunately, no one was killed."

      '~lnd you kept this quiet?" Iano said with disbelief.

     "Only a handful of people outside the Council

 knew," the prime minister replied. "We did not wish

 to start a panic."

     "So you kept it secret, even from the police?" Iano

 said. "It was nothing more than a practice run for the

 attack on us tonight! They wanted to see how their

 new weapons worked! Well, they work just fine! Thirty

 officers died tonight because none of them had any

 idea what they were going up against! You might as

 well have killed them yourselves!"

  "That will be enough, Lieutenant!"

    "No, Commissioner, he is more than entitled to his

anger," the prime minister said. "The error was ours.

We overreacted. We should have allowed you to

inform the people under your command." He turned

to Iano. "You should know, Lieutenant, that Commis-

sioner Karsi protested our decision vigorously. How-

ever, we felt we needed more time to debate the issue,

and we were concerned that news of the attack on the

station would get out. Now it appears that we have run

out of time. The rebels have struck again, using the

same weapons, and this time people have died. We

               6

cannot fight against weapons such as these. We have

nothing in our arsenals to match them. Their technol-

ogy is clearly not of Patrian origin. I have already

called another Council meeting for this morning. We

can no longer afford to debate the issue. The time

for isolation is past. We shall have to appeal to the

Federation."

    "How do we know these weapons are not coming

from the Federation?" Iano asked.

    "There are those in the Council who have asked

that very question," the prime minister replied.

"However, the Federation has been very forthcoming

in their ongoing exchange of information with us. We

know what sort of weapons they have. They have not

supplied us with the details of their manufacture, for

which caution I can hardly fault them, but they have

been very open in describing how they function and

just what they can do. I find it difficult to believe that

they would be as forthright with us as they have been,

while at the same time arming our rebels in an

attempt to destabilize our government. Such an act

would violate their Prime Directlye of Cultural Non-

interference."

     "But we have only their word concerning this

 so-called Prime Directire, do we not?" Iano said.

     "No, Lieutenant, we have considerably more. It is

 not generally known, but since we began our flights of

 interstellar exploration, we have been in subspace

 communication with a number of other alien cultures

 as well, some of whom are allied with the Federation

 and some of whom are not. And they have each

 continned the Federation's policy in this regard. We

 have entered a new age, Lieutenant. Not only are we

 not alone in the universe, but we are only one among

 many intelligent civilizations, most of whom are

 advanced far beyond us. That is both a fascinating

 and a frightening discovery. And we are now learning

 just how frightening it can be. We have been extremely

 cautious, and we have kept much of the details of

 these communications secret, but events have now

 escalated beyond our ability to control them. We

 cannot deal with this new threat on our own. It is

 obvious that what happened last night was only the

 beginning. We are very badly in need of help."

     "And what makes you think the Federation will

 provide that help?" Iano asked.

     "There is no guarantee that they will," the prime

 minister replied. "But we have nothing to lose by

 asking."

     "With all due respect, Prime Minister," Iano said,

 "we may have a great deal to lose."

     "Again, Lieutenant, that same concern has been

 expressed by a number of the Council members,"

 Prime Minister Jarum said. "However, the fact re-

 mains that if the Federation chose to exercise domin-

 ion over us, there would be little we could do to stop

them. Their technology is vastly superior to ours."

  "Yes," Iano said. "They have energy weapons."

  "True," the prime minister agreed. "But if they

  wanted to subjugate us by force, they could do so

  easily. They would not need to am the rebels. Some-

one else is doing that."  "Who?" Iano asked.

    "We have our suspicions," the prime minister re-

plied. "Discussing them now would be premature."

    Iano stared at the prime minister thoughtfully. "If

some other alien culture is providing the rebels with

               8

these weapons, then what prevents them from attack-

ing us directly?"

    "Good question, Lieutenant. I think what prevents

them is the Federation. If they moved against us

openly, while we are in negotiations with the Federa-

tion, then that could provoke the Federation into

joining the conflict on our side."

    Iano sat there silently for a moment, allowing the

full implications of the prime minister's words to sink

in. "Interstellar warfare," he said at last. "With us

caught right in the middle."

    "Correct, Lieutenant. And I must do everything

within my power to make sure it does not come to

that."

     "But if we turn to the Federation, we may be

 inviting just such a conflict," Iano said.

     "Perhaps not," the prime minister replied, "if we

 request their aid under cover of a formal diplomatic

 contact. It will have to be handled with the utmost

 care. But the fact is, we simply have no other choice.

 With weapons such as these, there is nothing to stop

 the rebel underground. Nothing at all."

    Captain James T. Kirk pulled down the shirt of his

dress uniform to smooth out any wrinkles, then

stepped through the door into the transporter room.

His senior officers were already waiting for him. Mr.

Scott, Dr. McCoy, and Mr. Spock had all been sum-

moned to the transporter room to join Kirk and greet

the special envoy, who would arrive momentarily.

Kirk had also ordered the bosun's mate to be on hand,

to officially pipe the envoy aboard. They were all in

their dress uniforms for the occasion.

                9

     "Well, you're certainly pulling out all the stops,"

 McCoy said as Kirk came in. "You'd think we were

 receiving a fleet admiral, instead of some member of

 the Federation diplomatic corps."

     "This special envoy to the Patrian Republics has

 been charged with an important mission, Bones,"

 Kirk said. "It can't hurt to start this thing off on the

 right foot and create a good impression. Diplomats

 often have tender sensibilities."

     "Right," McCoy said. "So how long you think it

 will be before you threaten to throw this one in the

 brig?"

     Kirk glanced at McCoy with irritation. "That's not

 what I would call a helpful attitude."

     "Just who are the Patrians, anyway?" McCoy asked.

 "How much do we know about them?"

    "We have been monitoring their progress for the

past twenty years, Doctor," Mr. Spock said, "as their

rapidly developing culture has approached the capa-

bility for interstellar travel. They have already colo-

nized the three habitable planets in their own system,

and their technological development is almost on a

par with that of many Federation worlds. However,

politically, their society is an unstable one. The Fed-

eration had refrained from making contact with them

until such time as the Patrians could manage to solve

their own internal difficulties. Recently, they have

perfected an interstellar drive and started making

exploratory forays outside their own system. In the

process, they became aware of the Federation and

initiated contact themselves."

    "In other words, they've jumped the gun and forced

the issue," McCoy said.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "In essence, yes. To date,

10

all contact with the Patrians has been by subspace

communications. The initial talks have been con-

ducted at long range, in an atmosphere of cautious

prudence. Now, the Patrians have finally agreed to

direct contact, and the Enterprise will be the first

Federation vessel to visit Patrian space."

    "So, in other words, they're prime candidates for

Federation membership," McCoy said.

    "Or for acquisition by the Klingon Empire," Kirk

replied. "There's a lot at stake in this mission, Bones.

It could easily go either way."

    "But I thought we just agreed to a truce with the

Klingons," McCoy said.

    "Yes," Kirk said wryly. "But if our negotiations

with the Patrians fail to result in an alliance, the

Klingons would be free to make their move. And we'd

be helpless to do anything about it."  "Why?" McCoy asked.

     "An attack on a culture that is not part of the

 Federation could not, from a strict standpoint, be

 regarded as a break in the truce, Doctor," Spock

 explained. "If the Klingons moved against the Patrian

 Republics, and the Federation tried to intervene, then

 we would be the ones breaking the truce and the

 Klingons could, with some justification; accuse us of

 initiating open warfare."

     And at stake was nothing less than Patrian autono-

 my, Kirk thought. The question was, could the Fed-

 eration envoy convince them of that'?. Ironically, at the

 moment of the greatest technological triumph in their

 history, the Patrians were also facing the greatest

 crisis in their history. With their own culture strug-

 gling for political stability, they were suddenly con-

 fronted with the most important decision they had

11

 ever faced--ally themselves with the Federation, or

 face conquest by the most imperialistic and warlike

 race in the known universe.

     It was not for nothing that Starfleet had chosen the

 Enterprise as the flagship of their diplomatic overture.

 They wanted to send in their best, and being chosen

 for this mission was an honor. Kirk could only hope

 that they would send the best from their diplomatic

 corps as well. Ordinarily, that would have been Sarek

 of Vulcan, but Sarek's skills were required in the

 ongoing peace talks with the representatives of the

 Klingon Empire.

     Kirk's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a

 message from the bridge. "Bridge to Captain Kirk,"

 said Lieutenant Sulu.

  "Kirk here. Go ahead, Mr. Sulu."

      "Sir, we have rendezvoused with the Lexington and

 they are ready to beam aboard the Federation envoy."

   "Are we ready, Mr. Scott?" Kirk asked.

     "Aye, sir, I'm giving them the coordinates right

 now," Scott replied from the transporter console.

     "Very well, Mr. Scott." Kirk nodded to the bosun's

 mate. "Stand by to pipe our visitors aboard, Mr.

 O'Dell. Tell them we're ready, Mr. Sulu."

    A moment later, as O'Dell blew the bosun's pipe,

two shimmering, blurred images appeared on the

transporter pads and resolved themselves into the

figures of a male and female, both human, both in

civilian dress. The woman was a young Asian, perhaps

in her late twenties, strikingly beautiful, tall and slim

and perfectly proportioned. The man appeared to be

in his late forties, clean-cut, fit, and distinguished-

looking, with firm, well-chiseled features and hair that

was prematurely going gray. Kirk recognized him at

               ~2

once. He stared with astonishment, then broke into a

wide grin. As Mr. O'Dell piped them both aboard,

Kirk stepped forward, all appearance of formality

gone.

    "Bob!" he said. "I can't believe it! You're the

envoy?"

    Robert Jordan stepped down off the staging area.

"That's special envoy to you, Jim," he replied with a

grin, holding out his hand.

    Kirk shook it warmly. "Damn it, why didn't you let

me know?"

     "And miss seeing the expression on your face? Not

 a chance. I wanted it to be a surprise."

     "Well, it's the nicest surprise I've had in a long

 time," Kirk said sincerely. "Welcome aboard the

 Enterprise. Allow me to present my senior officers,

 Commander Spock, Dr. Leonard McCoy, and Lieu-

 tenant Commander Montgomery Scott."

  "It's an honor to have you aboard, sir," Spock said.

     "You two obviously know each other," McCoy

 remarked.

     "We were classmates at the Academy," Kirk said.

 "In fact, we roomed together during our last year."

     "Well, then I'll bet you have some interesting stories

 to tell," McCoy said to Jordan with a grin.

     "My lips are sealed," Jordan replied with a smile.

 "After all, I have my position to consider now." He

 turned toward the young woman standing behind

 him. "Allow me to present my assistant, Secretary of

 Protocol Kim Li Wing, of the Federation Council on

 Intercultural Affairs."

     Kirk turned toward the young woman. "Welcome

 aboard the Enterprise."

   "Thank you, Captain," she replied.

                13

     "I hope you don't mind my asking," Kirk said, "but

 how does this old reprobate rate a department secre-

 tary of a Federation council for his assistant?"

     "It comes with his ambassadorial rank," she re-

 plied.

  Kirk turned to Jordan with surprise. "Ambassa-

 do?'?"

     "I've been appointed first Federation Ambassador

 to the Patrian Republics," Jordan said. "I guess that

 means you'll have to call me sir, ~' "

                     Jim.

     "Why, you old--" Kirk caught himself and cleared

 his throat. "Congratulations, sir. They couldn't have

 picked a better man for the job."

     "Thanks, Jim. That means a lot, coming from you.

 We've got a lot of catching up to do, but it's been a

 long and tiring journey. If you've got quarters pre-

 pared for us, we'd appreciate a chance to rest and

 refresh ourselves."

     "Of course," Kirk said. "Mr. Spock will show you

 the way."

  "If you would follow me, Ambassador," Spock said.

    "If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to

ask," Kirk said.

      "Thanks, Jim. Right now, I just think we do with a

little down time. We'll talk later, old friend."  "I'll be looking forward to it," Kirk said.

They followed Spock out of the transporter room.

"Well," McCoy said, as the doors closed behind

them, "imagine that. James Kirk hitting it off with a

Federation diplomat. That's got to be a first."

    "Can it, Bones," Kirk said with a grimace. "Thank

you, Mr. O'Dell, you're dismissed. Mr. Scott, have the

bridge inform the IntrepM that the ambassador's

               14

party has arrived safely and we will be getting under-

way."

 "Aye, sir."

    "How did a graduate of the Academy wind up in the

diplomatic corps?" McCoy asked as they left the

transporter room.

    "He left the service," Kirk replied. "We lost touch

after that. He never got beyond first lieutenant. I

thought he was making a big mistake, throwing away a

promising career. But I guess he knew what he was

doing. He was always interested in politics." Kirk

smiled and shook his head. "Ambassador Jordan.

That's going to take some getting used to."

    "Look on the bright side," McCoy said. "At least

you know you've got someone you can work with."

    "Yes, I must confess, I was a little worried about

that," Kirk said. "On a sensitive mission like this, an

officious bureaucrat with an inflated sense of self-

importance could have been a real pain in the posteri-

or. But Bob Jordan served his time in Starfleet, and he

was a damned good officer. That's one Federation

official who knows how the other half lives. We're not

going to have any problems with him."

    "Well, that will certainly be a welcome change of

pace," McCoy said. "Now if you don't mind, I'm

going to get out of this uniform. I never did care much

for these tight collars."

    "Neither have I," Kirk said with a grin. 'Tll bet

Jordan had himself a good laugh, thinking about me

rolling out the red carpet for him. He always hated

official functions. I remember one time... well, may-

be I'd better not tell you that one. He is an ambassa-

dor now, after all."

               15

    "With a beautiful department secretary for an

assistant, no less," McCoy said.

    "Yes, I... did notice," Kirk said. "And I noticed

you noticing, as well."

    "Hard not to notice a woman like that," McCoy

said.

  "Yes, indeed."

    "And you can wipe that smirk off your face,"

McCoy said. "She's young enough to be my daugh-

ter."

  "True. But she isn't."

"I've got work-to do," McCoy said gruffly.

"Right," Kirk said with a perfectly straight face.

He watched McCoy turn and head back down the

corridor, then stepped into the turbolift. "Bridge," he

said, then smiled. With a man like Bob Jordan in

charge of this mission, things were bound to run

smoothly. That would, indeed, be a welcome change

of pace. The way things were shaping up, this mission

could wind up being nothing more than official escort

duty and an opportunity to catch up on old times with

a good friend.

16

Chapter One

"STATUS REPORT, MR. CHEKOV," Kirk said as he came

onto the bridge,

    "We are approaching the Patrian system, sir," the

helmsman replied in a thick Russian accent. "We

should be coming out of warp and slowing to impulse

power for rendezvous approach in approximately

three point twenty minutes."

    "Very good, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, taking his

seat. "Lieutenant Uhura, stand by to open hailing

frequencies on entering ParrJan space. Let's do this

one by the book."

  "Standing by, Captain," Uhura said.

    Since coming on board, Bob Jordan and Secretary

Wing had remained closeted in their quarters. They

had also, apparently, comandeered Mr. Spock, who

still had not returned. Kirk had resisted the impulse to

17

call Spock and summon him to the bridge. For the

time being, he could afford to spare his first officer.

Besides, he had a fairly good idea what Spock was

doing at the moment. Doubtless, Jordan was having

Spock brief them on the ship's operation and routine.

It had been a while since he had served aboard a

starship, and he probably wanted to be brought up to

speed. In his place, Kirk probably would have done

exactly the same thing.

    "Captain," Chekov said, "I have that information

you requested."

    "Very good, Mr. Chekov," Kirk replied as he sat

down. "A brief summary, if you would be so kind."

    Chekov called up the data on his screen. "Secretary

Kim Li Wing was born in the city of Beijing, of mixed

American and Chinese parentage. Her father is Dr.

Kam Sung Wing, Director of the Sun Yi Institute of

Xenoanthropology. Her mother was the late Dr. Anna

Stanford Anderson, formerly the Director of--"

    "The Federation Council on Intercultural Affairs,"

Kirk said. He was impressed. "I should have guessed.

That, Mr. Chekov, is what I would call one hell of a

pedigree."

  "Yes, sir. Shall I go on?"

 "Please."

    "Secretary Wing was educated at the Sorbonne, in

Paris," Chekov continued, "and completed her gradu-

ate studies summa cum laude at Princeton, with a

doctorate in xenoanthropology. She served her for-

eign service internship on Vulcan, as first assistant

diplomatic attach6 to the Federation ambassador. For

the past two years she has served as Secretary of

Protocol on the Federation Council on Intercultural

               18

Affairs, and adjunct lecturer in xenopolitical studies

at Star fleet Academy."

    Kirk was impressed. "She sounds like a highly

capable and intelligent young woman."

    "Indeed, Captain," Chekov said. "Her IQ is mea-

sured atto"

    "If it's all the same to you, Mr. Chekov, I really

rather wouldn't know," Kirk said. "It might give me

an inferiority complex."

    Chekov grinned. "It is considerably higher than

yours, Captain."

    "Thank you, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said. "That will be

all."

    "Yes, sir," Chekov said, exchanging smiling glances

with Navigator Sulu.

    "Sir," Lieutenant Uhura said, "I am picking up a

subspace signal from a Patrian vessel at the scheduled

rendezvous point."

    "Slow to impulse power, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said. "Put

it up on the main viewer, Lieutenant."

    As the ship came out of warp drive and slowed to

impulse power, Lieutenant Uhura punched up the

subspace signal on the main viewscreen.

    "Attention Federation vessel. This is Commander

Anjor of the Patrian starcruiser Kornarah. Please

respond."

  "Hailing frequency, Lieutenant," Kirk said.

  "Go ahead, sir," Uhura said.

    "This is Captain James T. Kirk, of the Federation

starship Enterprise. We have on board the special

Federation envoy to the ParrJan Republics, the honor-

able Ambassador Robert Jordan. We are awaiting

your instructions, Commander."

               19

    The face of the Patrian commander appeared on the

main viewer. He was almost completely human in

appearance, save for a ridged brow, yellow eyes with

vertical pupils, and no hair. His eyes, like those of a

reptile, possessed nictitating membranes in place of

eyelids, and his skin was a dark, almost golden hue.

Despite his somewhat ophidian appearance, he had a

handsome, almost regal look about him. A career

military man through and through, Kirk thought.

    "Greetings, Captain Kirk," he said. "We have been

dispatched to escort your ship and the Federation

envoy to a station in orbit above our homeworld,

Patria One. If you would be so kind as to match your

speed to ours, we shall lead you in and give you the

proper approach coordinates."

    "Thank you, Commander," Kirk said, noting that

Anjor was not using a translator. He had learned the

language, and though his speech was heavily accented,

he spoke it well. "Mr. Chekov, match speed with the

Komarah, if you please. Mr. Sulu, stand by to receive

approach coordinates."

  "Standing by, sir," Sulu replied.

    "Approach coordinates coming in, sir," Uhura

said.

      "Thank you, Lieutenant," Kirk said. "Patch them

through to the navigation console, please."  "Right away, sir," Uhura replied.

    "Approach coordinates received and locked in,

Captain," Sulu said.

"We await your pleasure, Commander," Kirk said.

"Thank you, Captain," Commander Anjor replied.

"It would be my pleasure, once we have achieved

orbit, to receive you and your senior officers, as well as

the ambassador and his party, of course, at a small

20

formal reception aboard my vessel to mark this histor-

ic first meeting."

    "We would be honored, Commander," Kirk said.

"On behalf of Ambassador Jordan and my officers, I

accept your gracious invitation. Do you have trans-

porter facilities on board?"

    "Regrettably, Captain, we do not possess the tech-

nology for teleportation," Commander Anjor replied.

"However, we would be pleased to dispatch a shuttle

for you."

    "No need, Commander," Kirk said. "We can beam

directly over to your vessel if you would advise us of a

suitable location. We can scan your ship and compute

the proper coordinates for our arrival."

    "That would be perfectly acceptable, Captain

Kirk," Anjor said.

     "Sir," Sulu said, "I am scanning a main shuttle

docking area aboard the Komarah that should serve."

  "Commanderre" Kirk said.

    "I heard, Captain," Anjor said. "I shall have the

main docking port prepared for your arrival."

    "Thank you, Commander," Kirk said. "Enterprise

out." He turned to Uhura. "Lieutenant, please inform

the ambassador that we have achieved rendezvous

with the Patrian ship Komarah and are proceeding to

station in orbit above Patria One. Inform him also

that we have been invited to a formal receptmn

aboard the Patrian vessel once we have achieved

orbit."

 "Yes, sir," Uhura said.

    The turbolift doors slid open and Kirk's first officer

stepped out onto the bridge.

    "Ah, Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "I thought I'd lost

you."

               21

     "I was with the ambassador, Captain, conducting

 an informal briefing at his request," Spock replied. "I

 had assumed you would call if I was needed on the

 bridge."

     "Yes, of course," Kirk said. "Well, what did you

 make of him, Mr. Spock?"

    "Ambassador Jordan seems to be a forthright and

capable man, Captain," Spock replied. "Though it has

been years since he has served aboard a Starfleet

vessel, he still has an excellent working knowledge of

ship's operations and routine. He had requested an

informal briefing, but I found his knowledge already

quite extensive. And Secretary Wing struck me as a

highly intelligent and versatile young woman. Her

knowledge of Vulcan customs and traditions is im-

pressive. Humans, as you know, have great difficulties

in reproducing Vulcan speech, and yet Secretary Wing

managed as close an approximation as I have ever

heard or even imagined possible for a human. And

though she graciously apologized for her inability to

effect the correct pronunciation, I found her knowl-

edge of the Vulcan language flawlessly fluent. I must

say, Captain, I was very much impressed."

    "Sounds like Jordan's picked himself a first-rate

assistant. She seems to be a young woman of singular

accomplishment," Kirk said.

    "Indeed," Spock replied. "While we spoke, we

played dimensional chess. She said it helped her to

relax."

    "Dimensional chess helps her relax?" Kirk said. He

had played the game with Spock on a number of

occasions, and since the Vutcans were the acknowl-

edged masters of the game, he was convinced that

Spock occasionally gave in to him a little. Neverthe-

22

less, he found the game demanded an almost brutal

level of concentration that was mentally draining and

exhausting.

    "She defeated me two times out of five," Spock

said, "once using a cleverly disguised version of the

Karaluk gambit. I had thought I recognized it, but I

must frankly admit that I did not think a human

would be able to execute its intricate complexities."

He raised one eyebrow, as close as he usually came to

an emotional response. "Clearly, I was wrong."

    "I wish I'd been there to see it," Kirk said with a

smile.

 "Captain?" Uhura said.

  "Yes, Lieutenant?"

    "I have a message from Ambassador Jordan. He

requests that you and all the senior officers who will be

attending the reception aboard the Komarah meet

with him for a briefing as soon as possible."

    "Very well, Lieutenant. Please inform the ambassa-

dor that we shall meet him in Briefing Room One in

five minutes. Attending will be myself, Mr. Spock, Dr.

McCoy, Mr. Chekov, and Mr. Scott. Kindly inform

Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy of the briefing. Mr. Sulu,

you will have the conn in our absence."

    "Yes, sir," Sulu replied. If'he was disappointed at

the prospect of missing the reception, he did not show

it. Someone had to stay behind to take charge of the

bridge in the captain's absence, and that Kirk felt

confidence in him was no small compliment to his

abilities.

    Ambassador Jordan and Secretary Wing were al-

ready waiting for them when they arrived at the

briefing room.

  "Ambassador," Kirk said with a smile, seeing Jor-

23

 dan sitting at the table as soon as he came in. "We

 came as soon as we could. I hope you have not been

 waiting long."

     "No need for apology, Captain Kirk," Jordan re-

 plied with mock formality, then grinned. "Actually,

 you're not late. In fact, you're two minutes early. It's

 been a while since I've been aboard a starship, and I

 wasn't sure how long it would take to reach the

 briefing room. I did not want to keep you and your

 officers waiting."

  "That's very kind of you," McCoy said.

    Jordan glanced at McCoy and smiled. "Thank you,

Dr. McCoy. I see that everyone is present, so we might

as well begin. Please, take your seats, gentlemen."

  They all sat down around the conference table.

    "I have a few prefatory remarks, and then I'd like to

turn this briefing over to Secretary Wing," Jordan said

with a nod in her direction. He cleared his throat and

got to his feet.

    "Gentlemen, you have received your orders, and it

should probably go without saying that this is a highly

important diplomatic mission. However, I cannot

stress enough just how strongly the Federation council

feels about this. Quite aside from the fact that the

Patrian Republics represent an intelligent, technologi-

cal, and cultured race worthy of Federation member-

ship, there is the question of their place in the balance

of power between the Federation and the Klingon

Empire, not to mention the Romulans, who, as al-

ways, remain as something of a wild card in this sort

of situation. Doubtless, you are all aware that truce

negotiations are currently proceeding between the

Federation and the Klingon Empire. There have been

those who have been so bold as to refer to them as

24

'peace talks,' though personally, I feel that such a

designation would be somewhat premature."

 "That's putting it mildly," Kirk said wryly.

    "Yes, well, as a diplomat, I'm supposed to put

things mildly," Jordan said. "However, I'm sure you

can guess my true feelings on the matter. Prior to

leaving on this assignment, I spoke with Ambassador

Sarek, who is heading up the ongoing negotiations

with the Klingons during the ceasefire. The Klingons

will not consent to any face-to-face negotiations, and

the analogy Sarek used to describe the talks to me was

that of a fencing match between two champions, in

which each moves warily, attempting a small feint

here and there in an effort to draw out his opponent or

reveal a weakness, with neither yet ready nor willing

to commit to a decisive action."

    "In other words, they're merely going through the

motions," Kirk said with a grimace.

    "Yes, that was more or less my interpretation too,"

Jordan said. "However, whether or not these motions,

as you put it, will amount to anything, they must be

gone through just the same, not only on the chance

that something productive may come of it, but be-

cause failing to do so would only play into the

Klingons' hands. And whether or not the Klingons are

sincere, the fact is that we do, at least for the moment,

have a ceasefire, and that is no small thing."

    "Indeed," McCoy said. "Any chance at peace, no

matter how slight, is certainly worth taking."

    Secretary Wing glanced at him with approval and

nodded.

    "Quite so," Jordan said. "Which brings us to our

current situation. I realize, Jim, that your orders did

not contain much more than the most general back-

25

ground information, for which I apologize, but the

Patrians quite unexpectedly agreed to direct contact,

and the Council decided to move on this with all

possible speed. There really wasn't time to assemble a

full briefing package for you. In fact, except for

Secretary Wing and myself, there really wasn't anyone

else qualified to do it, and we had our hands full just

getting ready for this mission."

    "I understand," Kirk said. "My crew and I stand

ready to assist you in any way we can."

    Jordan nodded. "In all probability, Jim, your in-

volvement will be minimal, and purely in the nature

of formality. However, you must be prepared to be

flexible, as we really have no idea what the Patrians

may or may not request of us."

    Kirk merely nodded. Jordan was only stating the

obvious, but it was his show, and not Kirk's place to

point that out. Perhaps all Jordan wanted was a

certain reassurance. He seemed a little nervous, which

was certainly understandable, under the circum-

stances.

    "That's all I have to say for now. Secretary Wing?"

Jordan said, resuming his seat.

    "Thank you, Ambassador," she replied. She re-

mained seated. "Gentlemen, you are, of course, famil-

iar with the proper protocol in such situations, but

there are a few idiosyncracies peculiar to the Patrians,

of which you should be made aware. We have ex-

changed a considerable amount of information about

each other via long-range, subspace communications,

and we have found that in many ways their society is

similar to ours, but certain customs differ. For exam-

ple, the Patrians do not shake hands. Their hands,

unlike ours, are taloned, and the extending of a hand

26

as we would for a handshake could be interpreted as

an aggressive or offensive gesture. Now, they have

learned something of our social customs, as we have

learned something of theirs, and it is entirely possible

that a Pathan may, out of courtesy, extend a hand to

you in greeting. If that occurs, you should, of course,

respond in kind and accept the proferred handshake.

Otherwise, the Patrian equivalent is to hold up both

hands, like this, and incline the upper body slightly."

She demonstrated, holding up her arms, bent at the

elbows and close by her body, the backs of the palms

facing out.

    McCoy grinned. "That looks like the way a doctor

holds his hands after scrubbing up for surgery," he

said.

    She smiled. "Yes, I suppose it does, at that. It makes

for an excellent analogy, Doctor. I hope you don't

mind if I use it."

 McCoy grinned again. "Be my guest."

    "The purpose is to show that the talons are re-

tracted," she continued, "and the hands, facing to-

ward you and away from the person being greeted, are

not in position for attack. Patrians also do not laugh

the same way we do, though they do seem to have a

somewhat self-deprecating sense of humor. Their

laughter is a sort of snorting sound, rather like

this .... "She demonstrated, making a sound through

her nose that sounded remarkably like a pig grunting.

It took Kirk and the others by surprise, and they could

not resist chuckling.

    "I hope we're not going to be expected to do that,"

McCoy said.

    She smiled. "No, Doctor, the Patrians know how we

laugh, and understand the concept, though they find

               27

the sound of our laughter as amusing as you seem to

find theirs. I have illustrated merely so that you would

know what they are doing if they should suddenly

break out in snorting grunts. I might add that the way

they do it is much louder and rather more bestial

sounding than the way I have demonstrated it. I

cannot quite reproduce the sound. Their language is

difficult to master, though not quite as difficult as the

Vulcan tongue," she added, with a nod toward Spock.

"I have learned it to some degree of fluency, as we

have exchanged linguistic programs, but since Federa-

tion ships all carry a supply of universal translators,

you will not need to trouble yourselves about that. I

suggest we present them with a number of translators

from your stores, Captain, to aid them in the manu-

facture of their own."

    "We can let you have as many as you need," Kirk

said.

    "I think one case should be sufficient," the ambas-

sador replied.

  "Scotty?" Kirk said.

'Tll have a case ready for you, sir," Mr. Scott said.

"Good. We can bring it with us to the reception as a

gesture of goodwill," Jordan said. "Please continue,

Secretary Wing."

    "Thank you, sir. Now, as to the Patrian diet, we

have exchanged information regarding the chemical

composition of various items of our respective diets,

and thus far we have ascertained that nothing the

Patdans eat would be injurious to humans. I have

taken the liberty of programming your ship's food

synthesizers with the necessary data, so that you may

try some samples of their food prior to the reception."

She reached forward and turned on the communica-

28

tor in the console set into the briefing room table.

"May we have the dietary samples brought in,

please?"

    A moment later the briefing room doors slid open

and a crewman entered, carrying a large tray, which

he set on the table before them.

    "The Patrians are primarily vegetarians," Secretary

Wing said. "These are chemically accurate replica-

tions of certain items in their diet, based on the

information they've provided us, but we may encoun-

ter certain variations in taste, appearance, and texture

due to local growing conditions and the lack of the

actual items themselves for replication purposes. Still,

these should be fairly close approximations. Help

yourselves, gentlemen."

    McCoy reached for a bowl that contained some-

thing that resembled a cross between asparagus and

celery. He picked out a stalk and bit off a small piece.

"Crunchy," he said. "Very fibrous. Takes a lot of

chewing."

  "How does it taste?" Kirk asked.

  McCoy grimaced. "Like plywood."

    Spock selected something from a plate that held

what looked like fruit of some sort. It was green and

orange, and shaped like a grapefruit. "Does one peel

the skin, or simply eat it?" he asked, examining it

curiously and taking an experimental sniff.

    "That is a fruit called kaza," Wing replied.

"Patrians eat it with the skin, but I have found that

peeling it, as you would an orange, makes it more

palatable."

    Spock peeled the fruit, revealing a reddish pulp

beneath, tore off a segment and popped it in his

mouth. "Curious," he said.

29

"What does it taste like, Spock?" McCoy asked.

"I can find no adequate comparison," Spock re-

plied. "It is, however, very tart, quite juicy, and rather

refreshing."

    "Would this be what they drink?" Scotty asked,

reaching for a carafe containing an amber-colored

liquid.

    "It is called geeza, Mr. Scott," Wing said. "A sort of

wine they prize quite highly."

    "Ah, that's more to my liking," Scotty said, pouring

himself a glass and taking a healthy slug. He swal-

lowed, and then his eyes popped out and he screwed

up his face in a grimace of profound disgust. "Och,

sweet mother of God!"

  "That bad, Mr. Scott?" Kirk asked.

    "It takes like brine flavored with rotten herring!"

Scotty said. "Here, Captain, you try it."

    Kirk held up a hand as Scotty held out the glass to

him. "Uh, no, thank you, Mr. Scott. I will defer to

your undoubted expertise."

    Chekov was chewing on something that looked like

a salad of mixed greens and vegetables.

 "How does that taste, Mr. Chekov?" Kirk asked.

     Masticating furiously, Chekov grimaced wryly. "It

is... interesting, Captain," he said. "And?" Kirk prompted him.

 "And... very, very chewy," Chekov added.

    "But how does it taste, Mr. Chekov?" Kirk pressed

him.

    Chekov took a deep breath and swallowed with

some effort. The expression on his face spoke vol-

umes. "I... don't think you really want to know,

sir," he replied.

30~

    "You have not tried anything yet, Captain," Secre-

tary Wing said.

    "Fm not really very hungry at the moment," Kirk

replied.

    "You will probably be expected to partake of some

food during the reception, Captain," she said. "The

Patrians might take offense if you were to refuse."

    "Yes, of course," Kirk replied. He glanced at Jor-

dan, who was grinning at him. The bastard was

enjoying this. Kirk glanced at the dishes on the tray.

He had eaten more alien foods than he could count,

and had developed a fairly high tolerance for unpal-

atable tastes, but he had never really learned to like

the experience. He reached for something that looked

like a loaf of bread. He tore offa piece and put it in his

mouth. His fellow officers watched him with interest

as he chewed it slowly.

  "Well?" McCoy said.

    "It's not half bad," Kirk said, surprised. "What are

these crunchy, little black things baked into it?"

  "A sort of local weevil," Secretary Wing replied.

    Kirk stopped chewing. "A... weevil?" he said,

staring at her with dismay.

    "A chitinous insect of some sort," she replied. "The

Patrians prize it as a delicacy."

    With his mouth still full, Kirk glanced around

helplessly at his officers, who were watching him

expectantly. He forced himself to swallow. Jordan

tried to suppress a chuckle but was not entirely

successful. Instead he coughed slightly and raised a

hand to his mouth as Kirk gave him an annoyed look.

    "For your information, gentlemen," Jordan said, "I

have tried each of these dishes myself, and I realize

               31

that they are not exactly what we would call palatable.

However, the Patrians can almost certainly be ex-

pected to serve some of these foods at the reception,

and we must keep in mind that in doing so, they will

be trying to be gracious hosts. We, in turn, must do

our best to act like gracious guests."

    "Weevils," McCoy said, with a look that more than

adequately conveyed his sudden reluctance to attend

the reception.

    "They are actually quite nourishing, Doctor," Wing

said.

    "So are brussel sprouts," McCoy replied wryly. "I

don't suppose I could claim to be fasting for religious

reasons?"

 "No chance," Kirk said.

    "I was afraid of that," McCoy said sourly. "I'll have

Nurse Chapel stand by with the stomach pump."

32

Chapter Two

TItE OFFICERS' MESS aboard the starcruiser Komarah

was somewhat spartan in its accommodations com-

pared to the Enterprise, but Kirk reminded himself

that the Patrians had only recently begun building

starships. This was a first generation vessel. Nonethe-

less, the Patrians had gone all out for the occasion.

    When the ambassador's party had beamed aboard

the Patrian vessel, Kirk saw that the entire comple-

ment of the Komarah had been drawn up in formation

in front of the shuttles in the docking bay. They were

all resplendent in what he assumed were their full-

dress uniforms, black with gold trim and insignia, and

as they had materialized, one of the officers barked

out a command and the entire crew snapped to,

stamping their feet three times--letl, right, left--in

perfect unison, and giving voice to a cry that would

have done justice to a battalion of marines. They were

33

 invited to inspect the troops, and Commander Anjor

 led them up and down the lines, clearly proud of his

 men. At least, Kirk assumed they were all males. He

 could recognize individual differences in their fea-

 tures, but if there were females among them, he could

 not tell which ones they were.

    From the docking bay they were conducted to the

officers' mess, where a long table was laid out for a

meal. Waiting for them was a delegation of Patrian

officials, headed by Elder Rohr Harkun, and represen-

tatives of the scientific team that had participated in

the initial first contact and exchange of information

leading to the meeting.

    There was a brief, formal presentation ceremony,

during which the Patrians spoke in an awkward

standard Terran, while Jordan replied and Secretary

Wing translated his remarks in their own tongue,

apparently impressing them greatly with her mastery

of it. The case of universal translators was presented,

and Mr. Scott demonstrated their use. The Patrians

were clearly delighted with the gift, and used the

translators for the remainder of the occasion, which

made things a great deal easier for all concerned.

Finally, Kirk realized with a sense of apprehension, it

came time for the meal.

    They all took their seats around the table, and

Commander Anjor had drinks poured. "We under-

stand that, in your culture, it is customary to mark an

occasion such as this with a ceremonial libation called

a 'toast,'" he said, rising to his feet and raising his

goblet. "In honor of our guests, then, I would like

to"--he hesitated, groping for the right word--

"present a toast?"

 "We say propose a toast, Commander," Kirk said.

34

    "Thank you, Captain," Anjor replied. "I would like

to propose a toast, then. To our new friends from the

United Federation of Planets, may this historic first

meeting mark the beginning of a new age in peace and

cooperation between our culture~. To this, I drink."

    Scotty glanced down at his goblet with an expres-

sion of dismay. He looked up and met Kirk's gaze

with a pained look on his features. Kirk gave a slight,

barely perceptible shrug of resignation and nodded at

him to drink. The expression on Scotty's face was

pitiful. He looked toward the ceiling, as if offering up

a silent prayer, then closed his eyes and tossed back

the liquid in one quick gulp. Kirk took a deep breath,

prepared to suffer the same fate. Suddenly, Scotty's

eyes opened wide with complete astonishment and an

expression of happy disbelief came over his features.

  "It canna' bet" he said, utterly amazed.

  "Mr. Scott," Kirk said with sudden concern.

    "Captain, this here's scotch whiskey! And single

malt too! But I canna' tell from where!"

    Kirk sniffed his own goblet, while McCoy and

Chekov both drank from theirs. It was, indeed, scotch.

Kirk took a sip. And a very fine scotch too, he thought.

    "Now that," McCoy said with emphatic approval,

"is what I call a drink!"

    "Does it meet with your approval, Captain?" Com-

mander Anjor asked anxiously.

    "It does indeed," Kirk replied. "I'm frankly aston-

ished. However did you manage it?"

    Obviously pleased with himself, Commander Anjor

explained, "It was my own idea, Captain. You see,

unlike your Federation, we do not possess an equiva-

lent of your Starfleet Academy. Experience is our

teacher. We all enlist in the service at the lowest levels

35

and work our way up through the ranks. I began my

own career as a ship's cook, and consequently, I was

especially interested in the data relating to your diet.

While we do not possess your synthesizer technology,

of which I am most anxious to learn more, I noticed in

the data transmitted to us that one of your popular

libations, the one you call 'whiskey,' is derived from a

type of plant that is remarkably similar in chemical

composition to one of our wild native grasses. I could

not resist the temptation to experiment."

    "Experiment?" Mr. Scott said. "You call this an

experiment? Why, this stuWs smoother than a baby's

bottom!"

Anjor frowned. "I... fear I do not understand."

"You may consider it a very high compliment,

Commander," Kirk explained with a smile, "from an

acknowledged expert in the field."

"Truly?" Anjor said, obviously very. pleased.

"Aye," Scott said emphatically. "Would it be too

much trouble to have another taste, sir? Simply to

reaffirm my judgment, you understand."

    "Bring a container of Distillation number twenty-

nine for Mr. Scott, please," Anjor said to one of the

crew members serving the meat.

    "Distillation number twenty-nine?" Kirk said.

"Am I to understand that there were Distillations one

through twenty-eight, as well?"

    "I was not satisfied with my early results, Captain,"

Anjor replied. "I could not judge by the taste, you

understand, so I had to go purely by chemical analy-

sis. I feared that I had failed utterly, because there was

simply no time to duplicate your unique aging pro-

cess. And even though this particular distillation

matched the required chemical composition, none of

               36

my crew would try it more than once. It made some of

them quite ill. They assured me it had to be all wrong.

They simply could not believe that you would drink

such a vile concoction."

    "Commander Anjor!" Elder Harkun said, dis-

tressed at his remark.

    "Please forgive me, Captain," Anjor said hastily. "I

truly meant no offense."

    "None taken," Kirk said. "It might amuse you to

know that Mr. Scott had a very similar reaction to

your wine."

    "Indeed?" Anjor said. He glanced at Scott, and then

erupted into a series of grunting snorts that, had they

not known it was laughter, might have sounded quite

disconcerting. Kirk and the others joined him, laugh-

ing in their own way, which produced not a few

curious reactions among the members of Komarah's

crew.

    "Do I understand correctly, then," Mr. Scott said,

"that this has not been aged in any way? That is to say,

this stuff is freshly distilled?"

    "It is no more than a week old, Mr. Scott," Anjor

replied. "I must admit, I had some serious reserva-

tions about serving it to you. I was absolutely certain

that it would not cause you any harm, you under-

stand, but I thought that it was still taking a risk, as

regards the taste."

    "Well, I, for one, am glad you took it, sir," Scott

said, pouring himself another gobletful from the con-

tainer that had been set before him. "And I'd be most

anxious to have your recipe."

    "It would be my pleasure to give it to you, Mr.

Scott, along with a generous supply of the ingredi-

ents," Anjor replied.

               37

    "Why, thank you, sir!" Scott said. "I'll be mighty

curious to see ifI can match your excellent results. But

a whiskey this good should have a better name than

Distillation number twenty-nine."

    "With your permission, then, I shall it call it 'ScoWs

whiskey,'" Anjor said.

    Scotty beamed. "ScoWs whiskey! Aye, that has a

ring to it! I'll drink to that!"

    "It is fortunate that your experiment has turned out

well, Commander," Elder Harkun said. "But you took

a great deal upon yourself. You should have cleared it

with us first. It could have created an unpleasant

incident."

    "Forgive me, Elder Harkun," Anjor said, "but my

study of the dietary data with which we were supplied

indicated that while our guests would have been able

to consume our food without any ill effects, they

would probably not have found it very pleasing."

    "With all due respect, Elder Harkun," Jordan said,

"I think the commander showed admirable initia-

tive."

    "Perhaps," Elder Harkun replied, "but neverthe-

less, he has overstepped his bounds."

    Anjor looked uncomfortable, because at that very

moment his crew members were bringing in some

dishes for the dinner. "In that case, Elder Harkun, I

fear that I am about to further incur your displeas-

ure."

    As the covers were lifted off the dishes set down

before the men of the Enterprise, Kirk caught an

unmistakably familiar odor.

    "Good Lord!" McCoy said as he stared down at his

plate. "Is that what I think it is?"

               38

 "I'll be damned," Kirk said. "It's steak!"

 "Commander..." Harkun said tensely.

    Anjor suddenly looked even more anxious than

before.

    "Now this is what I call a proper meal!" Scott said,

inhaling the odor deeply and digging in with gusto.

    Kirk took an experimental bite. It wasn't beef, that

much was for certain, but it had a similar flavor, and it

was excellent, cooked medium rare. "This is really

very good, Commander," he said sincerely. "My

compliments."

    Anjor sighed with relief. Elder Harkun merely

shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.

    Spock ate sparingly, sticking to the ParrJan fruits,

but he watched with interest as the others dug into

their steaks. "I am curious, Commander," he said.

"We were informed that your people are primarily

vegetarian. Surely, you do not raise cattle. What sort

of creature did this meat come from?"

    "It is the flesh of a creature that we call the zama,"

Anjor replied.

    "What?" Elder Harkun said, nearly dropping his

goblet. He looked utterly aghast.

    Kirk glanced from Harkun to Artjot. "What is a

zama?" he asked.

    Secretary Wing cleared her throat slightly. "Accord-

ing to the comparison analysis we made from the

Patrian zoological data, it is a sort of giant rodent."

    "You mean... a rat?" Chekov said, his fork frozen

halfway between the plate and his mouth.

    "Roughly speaking, yes," she said, calmly eating her

steak. "And a rather large one, I should imagine."

 The nictitating membranes slid over Elder Har-

               39

 kun's eyes. Despite the physiological differences, Kirk

 had no trouble reading his expression.

     "It is a type of... vermin," Commander Anjor

 said, a little awkwardly. "However," he added quick-

 ly, "biologically, according to the data we received, it

 is remarkably similar to your beef mammals."

     "Fascinating," Spock said. "And what of the dish

 that resembles a potato? What sort of plant is that?"

     "Actually, it is not a plant," said Anjor. "It is a

 baked grub."

    Chekov's jaws froze in the act of chewing. Elder

Harkun looked as if he wanted to crawl under the

table.

    "Well... rat or not," McCoy said, "this steak is

delicious. And if anyone had ever told me that I would

enjoy eating grubs, I would have said they were crazy.

But I'll be damned if it doesn't taste just like a baked

sweet potato."

    "Allow me to commend you on your culinary

artistry, Commander," Kirk said. "You must have

been one hell of a ship's cook."

    Anjor's chest swelled with pride. "I am pleased that

my efforts have met with your approval. It has been

quite some time since I have worked in a ship's galley.

l feared that I had lost my touch."

    "You may soon have ample opportunity to reac-

quire it, Commander," Elder Harkun said.

    "Please, Elder Harkun," Jordan said, "do not hold

this against Commander Anjor on our account. Per-

haps his actions may have been a bit irregular, but

they were certainly well-intentioned, and highly suc-

cessful. He has produced a truly remarkable meal. I

would say that he has executed something of a diplo-

matic triumph."

40

"Thank you, Ambassador," Anjor said with an

uncertain glance at Harkun.

    "Well," Harkun said, relenting, "since the meal

seems to have gone so well, thanks to Commander

Anjor's admittedly unorthodox efforts, perhaps this

would be a good time to turn our talk to more serious

matters. No doubt, Ambassador, your Federation

council was somewhat surprised when we seemed so

anxious to effect this meeting, especially after having

been so cautious in our dealings with you from the

beginning."

    "Caution in making first contact with an alien race

is certainly understandable, Elder Harkun," Jordan

said. "Especially since the Federation represented a

number of races that were alien to you."

    "Quite so," Elder Harkun said. "And you have been

very forthright in your communications with us, for

which we are most grateful and appreciative. It has

resulted in a significant exchange of information,

which, I am sure, shall be of benefit to both, or

perhaps I should say all, of our respective cultures."

He inclined his head toward Mr. Spock, who returned

the gesture.

    "There are many benefits to membership in the

Federation, Elder Harkun," Jordan said. "I hope to

have the opportunity to acquaint you with some of

them."

    "I was hoping you would say that, Ambassador

Jordan," Harkun replied, "because we find ourselves

in the rather delicate position of asking for just such a

benefit, as evidence of your intentions. With your

permission, I shall come directly to the point."

     "Please do," Jordan said, while the others listened

 with interest as the plates were cleared away.

41

    "Doubtless, you are aware that our society has been

troubled with some internal political difficulties,"

Harkun said. "We both understand and appreciate

your stated desire to refrain from involving your-

selves in our internal affairs. However, recently there

have been certain developments which, quite frankly,

would make such an involvement not only welcome,

but indispensable."

    "That would, indeed, be a delicate matter, Elder

Harkun," Jordan said. "Our Prime Directive prohib-

its us from any sort of cultural interference. Could I

ask you to be a little more specific?"

    "Certainly," Elder Harkun said with a nod. "There

are those within our society who, while a minority,

have no compunction against using violence to

achieve their stated goals. And lately they have esca-

lated their violent acts of rebellion against our people

and our government to a point where we find our-

selves ill-equipped to deal with them."

    "If you are asking us to help you suppress terrorist

activities in your society," Jordan said, "then I am

afraid that would come under the heading of cultural

interference, and our Prime Directive would forbid

that. You must understand, Elder Harkun, that the

purpose of the Prime Directire is to protect and

preserve cultural autonomy. The Federation cannot

involve itself in the internal political problems of

other cultures. Doing so would not only destroy the

integrity of the Federation Accords, but it would set a

dangerous precedent as well."

    "Yes, I understand that," Elder Harkun replied.

"However, if I have read your Federation Accords

correctly, then this particular case would prove an

42

exception, and I believe your Prime Directire would

not be violated."

"Please go on," Jordan said, looking a bit anxious.

"We have recently become aware of another 'federa-

tion,' so to speak, an empire of worlds united under

the government of a race known as the Klingons."

    Kirk and his fellow officers all stiffened. "You have

had contact with the Klingon Empire?" he asked

tensely.

    "Please, Captain," Jordan cautioned him with a

stern glance. "Allow Elder Harkun to continue."

    In other words, Kirk thought, shut up and stay the

hell out of it. Quite right too. It was not his place to

speak out now, unless his opinion was solicited. But

mention of the Klingons had brought about a marked

change in the mood of the proceedings.

    "Let us say that it appears as if the Klingons have

been in contact with us," Elder Harkun replied, "or

more specifically, with the violent rebel faction of

which I have been speaking. Recently, the rebels have

started using energy weapons of a highly advanced

nature, weapons that we are not yet capable of manu-

facturing. Our authorities are not equipped to deal

with such weapons. Their like has never been seen on

the Patrian worlds before, and we are convinced that

they are of alien origin. At this point, regrettably, I

fear I must admit that there are certain dissident

voices within our government speaking out in opposi-

tion to Federation membership for the Patrian Repub-

lics. Some of them have claimed it is the Federation

that has been clandestinely supplying the rebels with

these weapons."

  "Nonsense!" McCoy said.

               43

    "As you were, Doctor," Kirk said softly, noting

Jordan's warning glance.

  McCoy frowned, but kept silent.

    "I quite agree, Dr. McCoy," Elder Harkun said.

"The majority of us do not believe the Federation

would do any such thing. Even if most of us were not

already convinced of your goodwill, supplying the

rebels with energy weapons simply would not serve

your interests. It would be illogical."  Mr. Spock nodded in agreement.

    "We believe these weapons must be coming from

the Klingons," Elder Harkun said. "The Federation

and the Klingon Empire are in active opposition to

one another, is this not correct?"

    "We have been at war for many years," Jordan

replied. "The Federation stands for a union of mutu-

al, voluntary cooperation between its member worlds.

The Klingon Empire stands for conquest. We are

currently engaged in a mutual ceasefire, while negotia-

tions for a lasting truce have been proceeding. Howev-

er, there is reason to believe that the Klingons are not

sincerely interested in a lasting truce, merely a tempo-

rary ceasefire that will serve their immediate needs."

    "I think I begin to understand," Elder Harkun said

slowly. "Your agreement for a temporary cessation of

hostilities allows the Klingons to concentrate their

attention elsewhere while these truce negotiations are

proceeding. And we are the ones caught in the middle.

If our negotiations do not lead to Federation member-

ship for the Patrian Republics, then the Klingons shall

seek to add us to their empire. If the Federation

should attempt to intervene, then it shall be guilty of

breaking the ceasefire agreement. And if the Federa-

tion does not intervene, then there is nothing to

               44

prevent the Klingons from attacking us with their

vastly superior weapons."

    "I would describe that as an astute and accurate

analysis of the situation, Elder Harkun," Jordan said.

"It would certainly seem to be in the Klingons'

interest to disrupt our negotiations and add to your

internal instability."

    "Yes, I can see it would," Elder Harkun said. "The

question is, how is such a situation governed under

your Prime Directive?"

    "If the Klingons are, indeed, supplying energy

weapons to a terrorist faction in your society," Jordan

replied, "then clearly, your culture has already been

interfered with. Under such circumstances the Prime

Directive would allow Federation involvement only

insofar as to restore the status quo."

    "Then that means you can help us?" Elder Harkun

asked anxiously.

    "As a political delegate, I am not empowered to

speak for the Federation in this particular regard

without further instructions," Jordan replied. "How-

ever, I believe that Captain Kirk is." He turned to

look directly at Kirk.

    Kirk glanced at Jordan quickly, but the ambassa-

dor's expression was completely neutral. There was

no hint of how he should proceed. Lacking any hint

from Jordan, he decided to go by the book.

    "What the ambassador means, Elder Harkun,"

Kirk said, "is that Starfleet regulations allow for a

contingency where Starfleet officers may act to pre-

vent such interference, providing a formal request for

assistance has been made, and, of course, that irrefu-

table proof of such interference has been demon-

strated."

               45

 "I understand," Elder Harkun said. "Commander

 Anjor?"

     The Patrian commander signaled to a crewman

 stationed at the door. The crewman opened the door,

 spoke to someone outside, and a moment later two

 other crewmen entered, each carrying a case. They

 laid the cases down on the table and opened them,

 revealing a collection of weapons that were instantly

 recognizable to the men of the Enterprise.

     "These were confiscated in a raid on a rebel store-

 house by our law enforcement officials on Patria

 One," Elder Harkun said.

    "Klingon disruptors," Kirk said, staring at the

weapons. He reached out and picked one up, examin-

ing it. "Still fully charged," he added, passing the

disruptor to Spock so that his first officer could make

an official confirmation in the report. He glanced at

Jordan once again, but still saw no clue in his expres-

sion as to how he should proceed. Jordan was appar-

ently leaving this one up to him.

    "Well, so much for K!ingon sincerity," Kirk said to

the others. "They wouldn't dare act openly so long as

the Federation and the Patrian Republics are in

negotiations, so instead they supply weapons to the

Patrian terrorists in an effort to disrupt their govern-

ment and cause the negotiations to collapse."

    "This puts things in a different light," Ambassador

Jordan said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "I

shall have to report this to the Federation council as

soon as possible. In the meantime, Captain Kirk,

under the provisions of Starfleet regulations govern-

ing the prevention of cultural interference, I would

like to request that you assemble an investigative team

46

to work with the Patrian authorities and determine all

the facts of this situation."

    "With your permission, Ambassador," Kirk said,

"I will personally take charge of the team, and I will

be joined by the officers present, with the exception of

Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott, who will take command of

the Enterprise in my absence."

    "Jim, I'm coming along," McCoy said. "This will

be the first time humans have ever set foot on Patria,

and there are health considerations involved here.

After all, someone's got to come along in case you get

the sniffles or something."

    "Good point," Jordan said, nodding. "Very well,

then. I shall inform the Federation council of our

decision regarding this matter and await further in-

structions. In the meantime, we shall assist the

Patrians in their investigation to the best of our

ability."

    "You have our grateful thanks, Ambassador Jor-

dan," Elder Harkun said. "Captain Kirk, how soon

can you and your officers be ready to meet with our

authorities on Patria One?"

    "Within the hour," Kirk replied. "With your indul-

gence, we shall return to our ship and change into our

duty uniforms, and I shall make arrangements for our

landing party to beam down to whatever location you

deem appropriate. Additionally, my ship and its crew

will stand by to provide whatever further assistance

you may require. These weapons are getting through

to your rebels somehow, and we will do whatever it

takes to stop the shipments. The Enterprise can assist

your vessels in patrolling this sector while the negotia-

tions are proceeding."

                47

     "Excellent," Elder Harkun said. "I feel, now, that

 we may proceed with our talks in an atmosphere of

 mutual cooperation. Ambassador, with your permis-

 sion, I shall take my leave now to communicate with

 my superiors on Patria One and advise them to

 anticipate the arrival of Captain Kirk and his party. If

 it is convenient, we may reconvene for the beginning

 of our formal talks within twenty-four of your hours."

    "That would be fine, Elder Harkun," Ambassador

Jordan said. "And it would give us both ample time to

prepare and communicate with our respective superi-

ors."

    "Good," Harkun said. "Captain Kirk, you may

expect to receive a communication from Commander

Anjor shortly, with further instructions."

  "We'll be standing by, sir," Kirk replied.

    The reception broke up, and the crew of the Enter-

prise, along with the ambassador and Undersecretary

Wing, returned to their ship.

    As soon as they stepped off the transporter pads,

Kirk turned to his officers. "Gentlemen," he said,

"you have one hour. We'll meet back here." Then he

turned to the ambassador. "I'd like a word with you in

private, Bob."

  "Of course," Jordan said, appearing distracted.

      Kirk turned to the transporter chief and said, "Give

us a few minutes, will you, Chief?."  "Aye, sir."

    As soon as they were alone, Kirk turned to Jordan.

"You didn't exactly give me any help back there."

"I thought you were doing fine," Jordan replied.

"But you might have given me some hint about how

you wanted me to handle that," Kirk said with some

exasperation. "A look, a nod, anything! This whole

               48

thing just went from a support effort for a diplomatic

mission to active duty in a matter of minutes!"

    "Which is exactly why I allowed you to pick up the

ball and run with it," Jordan said. "I can appreciate

your position, Jim. I went to the Academy. As a

starship captain, I'm sure the very last thing you want

is to have a Federation bureaucrat breathing down

your neck. I have no desire to make things difficult for

you. However, we are in a rather delicate position

here, so let's just do this by the book, okay?"

    "This sort of situation isn't exactly something that

is covered by the book," Kirk said. "Suppose the

Patrians want us to give them phasers? What then?"

    "Well, in my current position, I don't really have

the authority to make a decision of that sort," Jordan

said. "I'd have to contact Federation Headquarters

and consult with them. And that could take time.

However, as the ranking Starfleet officer, you have

considerably more latitude in that regard. I'll leave the

decision up to you. As far as this investigation is

concerned, I would like you to keep me advised of

your progress with regular, daily reports. And if

anything of significance should occur, I want to hear

about it immediately. If I am not available, due to

being engaged in talks with the Patrians, you may

report to Secretary Wing. But I do want you to keep

me posted."

  'Tll do my best," Kirk said.

    "I expect nothing less from you," Jordan replied

with a smile. He moved toward the door, then stopped

and turned around. "Oh, and one more thing, Jim.

Good luck,"

    He left the transporter room, and the doors closed

behind him. Kirk frowned. Maybe Jordan was just

49

trying to allow him the maximum amount of latitude,

as he had said, but on the other hand, what he'd just

done was a perfect example of passing the buck. That

did not sound like the Bob Jordan he knew. Perhaps

he had misread the situation, but it seemed to Kirk

that Jordan had thrown the whole thing into his lap.

And that meant that if anything went wrong, Jordan

could duck responsibility, and his own neck would be

on the chopping block.

    Kirk shook his head. No, he thought, it was just his

old feelings about bureaucrats coming up again. He'd

seen that sort of thing too many times before, but this

was Bob Jordan, his old Academy roommate. He had

been a Starfleet officer, and he didn't play those kinds

of games.

    Still, Kirk felt a nagging doubt as he left the

transporter room and headed back to his quarters.

This had just become a mission in which one wrong

decision could have disastrous consequences. And

Bob Jordan didn't seem to want to make decisions.

    They all met in the transporter room an hour later,

as scheduled. Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, and Mr. Chekov

had changed into their duty uniforms, as had Kirk.

They quickly performed a last minute check of their

equipment, which included universal translators,

tricorders, communicators, and phasers. As McCoy

checked his weapon, he glanced at Kirk with a frown.

    "Should we be taking phasers, Jim?" he asked.

"After all, this is supposed to be a diplomatic mis-

sion."

    "Good point," Kirk said. "We wouldn't want to

ruffle anybody's feathers. However, we're supposed to

50

be assisting in what is essentially a criminal investiga-

tion, and we were not asked to go unarmed. If the

Klingons are involved, then there's a lot more to this

than just diplomacy. We have no way of knowing what

we may run into. If the Patrians object, we can always

disarm."

    "I would not like to give up my phaser if there's a

chance that Klingons are around," Chekov said.

    "Nor would I, Mr. Chekov," Spock said. "Our

scanners do not report any Klingon power sources in

the area, and our sensors have not picked up any

Klingon life-form readings on the planet surface.

Nevertheless, if we are going to be investigating

terrorist activity, it would be prudent to take proper

precautions."

    "I agree," Kirk said. "Mr. Scott, the ship is yours.

Take good care of her while I'm gone."

    "You can count on that, sir," Scott replied emphati-

cally.

  They took their places on the transporter pads.

  "Energize," Kirk said.

    They materialized in what looked like a large brief-

ing room. The walls were dark and there were no

windows, but there were light panels set into the

ceiling, giving off a subdued illumination. The floor

was tiled in some sort of stonelike material, and there

was a large, U-shaped table in the center of the room.

Save for what appeared to be several large, metal

sculptures placed around the room, there were no

other decorations. Several Patrians were waiting,

seated at the table, and as the men of the Enterprise

materialized, they all rose to their feet.

  "Welcome," said one of the Patrians, coming

               51

 around the table. "I am Mohr Jarurn, Prime Minister

 of the Pathan Council of Advisors. Which of you is

 Captain Kirk?"

     "I am, Prime Minister," Kirk said, stepping for-

 ward. He raised his hands in the Patrian greeting and

 bowed slightly. The prime minister returned the ges-

 ture, then held out his hand.

     "Now, if you will allow me to greet you in your

 way?"

     Kirk took his hand, noting that the talons were

 retracted, and shook it firmly.

     "Allow me to present my officers, Prime Minister,"

 Kirk said. "Commander Spock, my chief science

 officer and second-in-command; Ensign Pavel

 Chekov, ship's helmsman and assistant science offi-

 cer; and Dr. Leonard McCoy, our chief medical

 officer."

    "It is a pleasure to welcome you to Patria One,

gentlemen," the prime minister said. "And may I, in

turn, present our chief law enforcement officer, Com-

missioner Tohr Karsi, and one of our top criminal

investigators, Lieutenant Joh Iano. You will be work-

ing with Lieutenant Iano on this investigation."

    "Lieutenant," Kirk said, knowing those probably

were not the exact titles, merely equivalents selected

by the universal translators.

    "Iano will suffice," the burly Patrian said in their

own language. "I have some knowledge of your stan-

dard Terran, Captain."

    "You seem to speak it very well," Kirk remarked,

noting that he was clearly not of the same stamp as the

others. He seemed more fit, and he had a firm, direct,

no nonsense manner about him. He was about the

same height as Kirk, but heavier, and most of that

weight seemed to be muscle.

52

 "I learn quickly," Iano replied.

    "I suppose that would be an asset in your job," Kirk

said.

    "As in yours, no doubt," Iano said. He glanced at

Spock. "You are different from the others."

    "That is because I am not human," Spock replied.

"I am a Vulcan."

    "Forgive me, but I know nothing of your race," Iano

said, gazing at Spock curiously.

    "There is nothing to forgive," Spock replied. "I

know very little of yours."

 "A most logical reply," Iano said.

    "You will find that Vulcans are nothing if not

logical," McCoy said. "Unlike us humans, they do not

display emotion."

 "Very commendable," Iano said.

    "Something tells me you two are going to get

along," McCoy said wryly,

    "Please, gentlemen, be seated," the prime minister

said. They took their places around the table. "I do

not know exactly how much Elder Harkun has told

you, but we have prepared a presentation that should

brief you on the situation we are facing. Commis-

sioner?"

    Karsi rose to his feet and took a small control unit

of some sort from his pocket. He dimmed the lights

with it, and a moment later a panel in the wall

opposite the table slid aside to reveal a large monitor

screen. The screen began to glow, and a second later

an image of a city street scene appeared. It showed the

site of what was obviously some sort of an explosion,

probably only moments after it occurred. A building

was damaged and in flames, people were shouting and

running about, sirens were blaring, and wounded were

               53

being brought out of the building and tended to in the

street. Except for the people, Kirk thought, it could

have been a scene right out of Earth's history tapes.

    "These images were recorded by a news crew,"

Karsi said, turning down the sound. "What you are

looking at is the aftermath of an explosion right here

in our capital city, in the heart of our business district,

merely a short distance from where we sit. It occurred

at midday, when the streets were at their most

crowded. Twenty-seven people were killed in the blast,

and more than twice that number were wounded. The

victims were not government officials, but ordinary

citizens."

  "What caused the explosion?" Kirk asked.

    "A bomb that was planted in the building, probably

sometime during the early morning or the previous

night," Karsi replied. "It was detonated by a timing

device. Up until recently, it was the favorite weapon

of the rebels, designed to cause terror among the

citizenry and promote outrage against the govern-

ment."

    "A weapon of intimidation and coercion," Chekov

said.

    "Travel halfway across the universe," McCoy re-

marked softly, "and you only wind up coming right

back where you started from."

 "I beg your pardon?" Karsi said.

    "We have had such incidents in our own history, as

well, Commissioner," Kirk said, watching the screen

grimly. "More than a few, I regret to say."

    "What is the stated purpose of these rebels?" Spock

asked.

    "They have a number of grievances with our gov-

ernment," Karsi said, "but the latest concerns our

54

contact with the Federation. They are opposed to the

negotiations for Patrian membership in the Federa-

tion and maintain that it will bring about an end to

Patrian independence. Shortly after it was reported

that we had made contact with the Federation and had

established subspace communications, they escalated

their activities to an unprecedented level."

    The image on the screen changed to that of a

firefight taking place at night in the city streets. Kirk

and the others stiflened as they watched. The Patrians

were using some sort of projectile weapons, but the

rebels who had them pinned down were firing disrup-

tors, and with devastating effect.

    "What you are seeing, gentlemen, is the only visual

evidence we currently have on record of the new

energy weapons being used by the rebels," Karsi said.

    "Cossacks," Chekov said through gritted teeth as he

watched the horribly one-sided battle.

    "Our authorities responded to an anonymous re-

port of a rebel storehouse at this location," Karsi

noted. "It was a trap, and they walked right into an

ambush. There was a news crew on the scene, and they

recorded the entire incident. Note that no one in the

news crew was fired upon, the better to ensure that our

people would see this on their viewscreens at home.

Note also the pinpoint accuracy of these energy

weapons. These officers never stood a chance."

    The men of the Enterprise watched in tense silence

as, one by one, the Patrian police officers were killed.

Their weapons were no match for the disruptors. The

whole thing took no longer than about thirty seconds.

They were caught in a deadly crossfire from the upper

floors of three separate buildings. They never even saw

who was firing at them.

               55

    The images on the screen faded and Karsi turned

the lights back up. "That is what we are facing now,

gentlemen," he said. "Our people are defenseless

against such weapons. And what you have just seen is

but one example of what we are now up against. There

have been many more. So far, they have been confined

to this city, which leads us to believe that the rebels

may not have an extensive supply of these new weap-

ons. However, if they should get more..." His voice

trailed off, significantly.

    "There are those in the Council who seem to be in

sympathy with the rebels," the prime minister said,

"at least insofar as our contact with the Federation is

concerned. They are respected politicians, but they

are distrustful of your motives. They are presently in

the minority, but their influence seems to be growing

and their voices are making themselves heard. Their

arguments possess a certain logic, at least to those who

are not in possession of all the facts. They claim that

such terrible weapons have never been seen on Patria

before and that, obviously, they are of alien manufac-

ture. Where, they say, but from the Federation could

the rebels have received such weapons? What further

proof, they ask, is needed to demonstrate the hostile

intentions of the Federation? They claim that under

the guise of establishing diplomatic relations with us,

the Federation is actually gathering intelligence that

will enable them to subdue us, while secretly supply-

ing weapons to the rebels in an effort to destabilize our

government."

    "That is not logical," Spock said. "If these rebels

are opposed to contact with the Federation, then why

would the Federation wish to supply them with weap-

ons?"

56

    "I quite agree, Mr. Spock," the prime minister said.

"It is not logical. However, when emotions are run-

ning high, our people do not think logically. We have

reached a major turning point in our history--

contact with other intelligent beings. That is the sort

of thing that frightens many people. I, myself, have

tried to point out the contradictions in the arguments

of the opposition, but they merely reply that the rebels

are only seeking to confuse the issue. They claim that

the rebels' stand against contact with the Federation is

nothing more than obfuscation, that they are actually

in league with the Federation because you have prom-

ised them positions of power when our government

finally falls and you take over."

"Paranoia's hard to argue with," McCoy said.

"There is, perhaps, one argument we could make

that would resolve the issue," the prime minister said.

"And that is if you were to supply us with energy

weapons of our own that we could use against these

disruptors, as you call them."

    There it is, Kirk thought. Just as he'd expected. And

Jordan had left this hot potato sitting squarely in his

lap. Well, he wasn't prepared to make that kind of

decision, at least not yet. It was just too risky.

    "I understand your concern, Prime Minister," Kirk

said, choosing his words carefully, "but that is not

something I could do under the current circum-

stances. You must understand that we are dealing with

a highly sensitive issue here."

    "I see," the prime minister said, obviously disap-

pointed. "I understand your position, Captain Kirk,

but unfortunately, it plays right into the hands of the

opposition. You have your orders, of course, but they

will claim that it is merely a Federation ploy to coerce

57

us into joining you and thereby subjecting ourselves

to your authority."

    "But that's not how the Federation works," McCoy

protested. "Each of the member worlds retains its

own sovereign form of government, with an equal

voice in the Federation council. The Federation is a

democratic union, not a dictatorship."

    "I believe you, Dr. McCoy," the prime minister

replied. "My problem is, how do I convince those who

do not?"

    "The member worlds of the Federation enjoy the

benefits of shared technology, Prime Minister," Kirk

said. "And those benefits go beyond mere weapons

technology. However, the question of Pattiart mem-

bership in the Federation is one that will be resolved

by the diplomats, and not by us. Our role here is to

establish the facts of the situation and assist you in

your investigation to the best of our abilities, within

the limits of our authority and yours. We cannot give

you weapons, but we will help you discover how the

rebels are getting theirs."

    "If you would do that, Captain," the prime minister

said, "then it would certainly help prove that the

Federation's motives are benevolent, rather than im-

perialistic." He rose to his feet and offered Kirk his

hand. "I will leave the matter entirely in your hands,

Captain Kirk."

    "Just a moment, Prime Minister," Kirk said. "I'm

not sure I understand. We were requested to assist

your authorities."

    "I think it has been amply demonstrated that the

current crisis is beyond our ability to solve, Captain,"

the prime minister replied. "I have, therefore, deter-

mined that the best way the Federation could assist us

58

in this matter would be for you to take charge of this

investigation personally."

    "With all due respect, Prime Minister," Kirk said,

"this is a Patrian internal matter. As an officer of the

Federation, I would really have no proper jurisdic-

tionre"

    "Captain," the Prime Minister interrupted, "I am

granting you the proper jurisdiction, so you may rest

assured on that account. Ambassador Jordan has

assured me of your complete cooperation, and you are

clearly more qualified to deal with this situation than

anyone in our administration. You have had experi-

ence with these sort of weapons before, and you

obviously know and understand a great deal more

about the Klingons than we do."

    "That may be true, Prime Minister," Kirk said,

"but as an outsider, I have no knowledge of your laws

and--"

    "According to our laws, this is a police matter, but

the solution clearly calls for a military man," the

prime minister replied. "Regrettably, there is no one

in our military even remotely qualified to conduct an

investigation of this nature. You, on the other hand,

possess all the necessary qualifications. And I think

having a Starfleet officer in charge of this investigation

will provide a dramatic demonstration of the sincerity

of the Federation's motives in this matter."

    Yes, and if we fail, Kirk thought, then the blame will

rest with us, instead of your administration. It makes

for a very convenient political solution. You're cov-

ered, either way.

    "I will leave you to discuss the details of your

investigation with Commissioner Karsi and Lieuten-

ant Iano," Prime Minister Jarurn said. "If there is

59

anything you need to help you in your task, Captain,

please do not hesitate to ask. You shall have my full

authority behind you. We have done all that we could,

to the best of our ability. We now place ourselves in

your capable hands. If the Federation can help us

solve this problem, then doubtless it will have a

salutory effect on our negotiations. Thank you, gentle-

men," he said, holding up his hands in the Patrian

salutation, "and good fortune to you."

    As he left, McCoy turned to Kirk and said, in a low

voice, "I think we've just had a demonstration of the

Patrian equivalent of passing the buck."

    "Yes," Kirk said softly. "He's just dumped the

responsibility for the whole thing squarely in our laps.

And it looks as if we're stuck with it."

    Commissioner Karsi turned to the men of the

Enterprise. "Gentlemen, I shall issue orders instruct-

ing all my officers to assist you and Lieutenant Iano to

the best of their abilities," he said. "Lieutenant Iano is

authorized to speak in my name in any manner

relating to this investigation. Are you carrying any

weapons?"

    Kirk removed his phaser from his belt. "These are

called phasers, Commissioner," he said. "They are

energy weapons, in principle not unlike disruptors.

They possess both lethal and nonlethal settings. How-

ever, if you would prefer that we not carry them--"

    "No, retain them, by all means," Karsi said. "If you

should encounter any of the rebels who are armed

with these disruptors, they shall doubtless serve you

far better than any of our weapons could. As to the

authorization for your use of them, my interpretation

of the prime minister's remarks is that it will be left up

to your own discretion. I shall leave it to Lieutenant

Iano to advise you on matters pertaining to our laws.

He has my complete confidence. Now, if you would

excuse me, I have other pressing matters to attend to.

Gentlemen, it has been a great honor and a privilege

to meet you, and I would personally like to thank you

all for your help in this matter. I am confident that it

will advance the cause of mutual cooperation between

the Federation and the Patrian Republics."

Karsi gave them a slight bow and left the room.

"Well," Iano said gruffly, speaking to them in their

own language, "so much for the formalities. It looks

like you're in charge, Captain. Shall we get to work?"

60                                                                                  61

Chapter Three

THE LIFT WAS NOT ENCLOSED; it was merely an open

platform that rose up quickly in the smoothly finished

shaft. The mechanism, as near as they could tell,

appeared to be magnetic. As they ascended, Kirk

questioned Iano about the rebel terrorists.

    "What can you tell us about the organization of

these people?" he asked.

    "Not very much, I regret to say," Iano replied. "We

have managed to capture some of the rebels, but few

allow themselves to be taken alive. They are quite

willing to die for their cause. We do know that their

organization is structured in small groups, so that the

members of one group have contact only with the

groups immediately above and below them, and per-

haps one or two others at the same level. If the

integrity of one group is compromised, it is immedi-

ately cut off from all the others, and the groups with

62

which it was in contact are quickly dispersed and

reorganized."

    "The cell structure," Chekov said, nodding. "It is

similar to the manner in which anarchist groups were

organized in Earth's ancient history."

  "Anarchist?" Iano said.

    "The word is derived from an archos, in the old

Terran Greek language, meaning 'without a leader,'"

Spock explained. "Specifically, the term 'anarchy'

describes an absence of government, usually accom-

panied by political confusion and disorder. Typically,

anarchist movements have been revolutionary in na-

ture, and often violent."

    Iano nodded. "That would be an accurate descrip-

tion of the rebels," he said. "They are fanatics,

dedicated to the dissolution of our government and

the complete collapse of social order."

    "The prime minister mentioned that these rebels

had a number of grievances against your govern-

ment," Kirk said. "That is, aside from its contact with

the Federation."

    Iano made a sort of hissing noise that Kirk took as a

sound of derision. "They dislike authority," he said.

"They are opposed to the police and to a strong

central government. They claim that the government

has become oppressive, and invasive of the individual

rights of citizens, and their stated position calls for a

return to the decentralized, local governments of the

past. In truth, they are simply criminals who seek to

dignify their lawless activities with political rhetoric."

     The lift stopped and the doors opened onto the roof

 of the building, which served as a landing pad for the

 police vehicles. A number of the sleek-looking, steel-

 gray craft were parked on either side of the roof, in

               63

 diagonal formation. Iano took a remote control unit

 out of his jacket pocket and clicked it twice. One of the

 craft's engines started with a muted whine, and it

 slowly rolled out of formation where it was parked.

 Iano clicked the control again and it stopped, then its

 gull-wing doors swung open with a muted whine.

     "We're going in that?" McCoy asked, eyeing the

 craft uncertainly.

     "We are not going to find the rebels at police

 headquarters, Dr. McCoy," Iano said. "Our work is

 out there, in the streets." He pointed out over the city.

    The sun was setting and night was falling on the

city. The rooftop of the building afforded them a

panoramic view of the sprawling Patrian capital. In

many ways it resembled an Earth city circa the late

twenty-second century. The Patrians had a penchant

for constructing tall, cylindrical buildings resembling

gigantic tubes. Many of these were surmounted with

ornamental spires of various designs, others were

flat-roofed, while still others were domed. Some were

constructed in tight clusters with interconnecting pas-

sageways between them, while others stood alone,

scratching at the sky, or rose above a collection of

encircling buildings of lesser, varying height, giving

them the aspect of smooth, crystalline formations.

    "It is a beautiful city," Chekov said as he gazed out

across the capital. The lights were coming on in most

of the buildings, not only interior lights, but exterior

lights as well, in different colors of green, blue, red,

and orange. The entire city seemed to glow like an

aurora borealis.

    "Like most cities, its beauty is only skin deep," Iano

said. "Perhaps men such as you can never truly feel at

home in such an environment. Here, there are bound-

64

aries, while out there, in space"--he looked up at the

sky--"there are no limits."

    Kirk glanced at Iano with surprise. The policeman's

words had closely echoed his own thinking. "I sup-

pose you could look at it that way," he said, "but there

are always limits. Even in space. And where none

exist, people tend to make their own."

    "It has been my experience that people are better off

when limits are imposed upon them," Iano said.

"People need the limits of the law, without which they

would tear one another to pieces. We may be from

different worlds, Kirk, and yet we do have at least one

thing in common. We are both custodians of the law."

    Kirk smiled. "You may have a point, though I must

admit, I've never really thought of myself as a police-

man."

    "Then perhaps you should," Iano said, beckoning

them toward the police vehicle.

    They got inside and sat down in the contoured,

individual seats. It felt not much different from sitting

in one of the Enterprise's shuttlecraft, except that the

police flier was smaller and narrower, about half the

width of a shuttlecraft and roughly two-thirds the

length. The seats had not been designed for human

anatomy, but the Patrians were humanoid and had

roughly similar dimensions, so they were not uncom-

fortable for Kirk and the others. Iano touched a

button on the console and lowered the gull-wing

doors. He grasped the joystick and the whine of the

engines grew louder. Then he pulled back on the stick

and the flier gently rose into the air, hovering, its

wheels automatically retracting. Banking sharply,

Iano flew out over the side of the roof, and the craft

described a graceful arc out and away from the

65

 building as it picked up speed, swooping down toward

 the crowded streets below.

     "This reminds me of the old aerobatic fliers we had

 back at the Academy," Kirk said, smiling at the

 memory as Iano leveled off about forty feet above

 street level, flying between the buildings.

     "Well, I could do with a bit less of the aerobatics,"

 McCoy grumbled as Iano banked the flier around a

 corner so sharply, it seemed to stand on edge.

     "Forgive me, Doctor," Iano said, as he leveled off at

 about thirty feet. "Are you experiencing discomfort?"

     "Oh, nothing serious," McCoy replied in a grumpy

 tone. "I just think I left my stomach back there

 somewhere."

     "You'll have to excuse my chief medical officer,"

 Kirk said. "He never feels entirely comfortable unless

 there's something he can complain about. Isn't that

 fight, Bones?"

    McCoy gave him a sour look. "I'm a doctor, not a

stunt pilot," he said gruffly.

    "My apologies, Bones," Iano said. "I will try to

avoid turning so quickly in the future."

    Kirk smiled at lano's appropriation of his nick-

name for McCoy. He glanced at McCoy out of the

corner of his eye and saw him frowning, but he did not

correct the Patrian.

    "I would appreciate that, Lieutenant," McCoy said.

"Some of us aren't so sensitive to the discomfort of

others."

    "Surely, you can't be referring to me?" Kirk said.

He raised his eyebrows and feigned a look of utter

astonishment that McCoy should even make such a

suggestion.

66

    Iano gave a slight snort, which they interpreted as a

chuckle. "You two remind me of the way my partner

and I sound when..." His voice trailed off. "Is something wrong?" Kirk said.

    Iano made a soft, brief hissing noise. "Sometimes, I

still forget," he said. "My partner was killed re-

cently."

    "I'm sorry," Kirk said, sincerely. "How did it

happen?"

    "The rebels," Iano replied, his voice laced with

bitterness. "He was killed in an ambush. I saw him

die. They used their new weapons. He was completely

vaporized. There was nothing left of him."

    "A tragic loss," Chekov said sympathetically. "It

sounds as if the two of you were very close."

    "He was my partner," Iano replied simply, as if that

said it all. And, in effect, it did. Each of the Enterprise

officers knew exactly what that meant.

    "And you have sought no replacement?'* Spock

asked.

    "I prefer to work alone now," Iano replied curtly.

Then he quickly added, "However, the department is

certainly grateful for whatever help the Federation

may provide."

  Kirk and Spock exchanged glances.

     "In other words, we were sort of crammed down

 your throat," McCoy said, articulating what the oth-

 ers thought.

     "Crammed down my throat," Iano repeated. "An

 accurate metaphor."

     "You realize this wasn't exactly our idea," McCoy

 said with a grimace.

  "What the doctor means," Kirk quickly added, "is

67

 that we're perfectly willing to help in any way we can,

 but it was never our intention to take control of this

 investigation."

     "Please do not misunderstand me," Iano said. "I

 was not implying that the Federation was forcing itself

 upon us. It is just that I would have preferred to

 handle this case myself."

     "I can certainly understand how you feel," Kirk

 said, "but the impression we received from the prime

 minister was that the Patrian authorities were in over

 their heads."

     "I see," Iano said. "Captain, you are correct in your

 impression. There are, indeed, those in our govern-

 ment who believe that we are 'in over our heads,' as

 you say. However, there are also those who believe

 that we Patrians should handle our own problems."

    "No one is suggesting that you shouldn't," Kirk

replied. "The whole point of the Prime Directire is to

allow cultures the right to solve their own problems

and make their own choices."

    "Only in this case, it looks as if the Klingons are

trying to make some of those choices for you," McCoy

added.

    "And that places the burden of counterbalancing

their influence on the Federation," Iano said. "So

where does that leave your Prime Directive? It would

seem to be effectively neutralized by the involvement

of the Klingons. To effect a balance, the Federation

must become involved, and that leaves us Patrians

caught right in the middle. We become merely another

battleground in the war between the Federation and

the Klingon Empire. So much for our right to choose

our own destiny."

 "The situation is, indeed, regrettable," Spock said,

                      68

"but the blame does not rest with any shortcoming of

the Prime Directire. The Klingons have no respect for

the sovereignty of any culture but their own. They are

not now, and never have been, bound by the Prime

Directive. The Federation has the latitude to inter-

vene where the autonomy of another culture has been

threatened, providing a request for such assistance

has been made. However, if your government were to

determine that it did not desire the involvement of

the Federation, their wishes would be respected. Un-

fortunately, that would still leave you with the prob-

lem of what to do about the Klingons."

    "Then it doesn't seem as if we have any choice, does

it?" Iano said. "The Federation will respect our right

to determine our own destiny, but if we exercise that

right and choose not to join the Federation, we stand

the risk of being conquered by the Klingons. And if we

join the Federation, then the Patdan Republics be-

come only a small part of a much larger body, merely

a voice in a chorus."

    "A democratic chorus," Kirk said, "where each

voice, no matter how small or how large, bears equal

weight. And where no one voice stands alone."

     "But what if someone wants to stand alone?" lano

 asked. "What then?"

     "If that is what the Patrian Republics want," Kirk

 said, "then the Federation will respect that. But I'm

 afraid the Klingons won't."

 "Where exactly are we going?" McCoy asked.

 "Accommodations have been arranged for you,"

 Iano said. "I thought, perhaps, that you'd like to see

 them and make certain that they're suitable before we

 proceed with the investigation. And at the same time,

 [ can arrange for you to have access to all the reports

                69

 of this investigation to date, so that you can familiar-

 ize yourselves with the situation."

     "That would be very helpful," Kirk said. "You

 realize, of course, that we shall have to be returning to

 our ship from time to time."

     "I had assumed as much," Iano replied. "Your

 quarters can serve as a base of operations for you. The

 building has been designated a legation, headquarters

 for yourselves and the Federation ambassador while

 you are on Patria One. You will be able to use it as a

 point from which you can transport to your ship. The

 grounds are protected to the best of our ability, and

 several police officers have been assigned to function

 in full-time support positions at the legation for the

 duration of your stay here. There shall always be

 someone on duty to serve as liaison between you and

 the department."

     "That's very thoughtful, Lieutenant," Kirk said.

 "Please convey our appreciation to Commissioner

 Karsi."

  "I shall," Iano replied.

    "I would like to detail several members of my crew

to work with the Patrian officers who have been

assigned as our liaisons," Kirk said.

    "As you wish," Iano said. "Quarters will be pre-

pared for them if additional space is needed. Howev-

er, I believe you will find that the legation can

accommodate your personnel quite adequately. That

building Up ahead is where you will be staying."

    Rising up ahead of them in a large, central city

square was a tower complex that loomed high over the

surrounding buildings. It took up an entire city block

and was surrounded by well-manicured gardens and

miniature parks. The walls of the large, circular

               70

building were constructed of a glassy, rosy-hued sub-

stance. Iano banked around it, gaining altitude as he

climbed toward the landing port on the roof of the

tower.

    "My superiors are anxious that you be made as

comfortable as possible during your stay here," Iano

said. "This is one of the finest residence complexes in

the city. I believe your word for it would be... hotel.

The top three floors have been set aside for your

personal accommodations, and the two floors beneath

them have been prepared as security areas for our

police personnel."

    The quarters prepared for them as their base of

operations were on a par with the most luxurious

accommodations found in the Federation's most ex-

clusive resorts. They consisted of several large,

multiroom luxury suites, one of which had been

completely refurbished as a large and fully equipped

conference room, with communications and comput-

er consoles as well as furnishings specially designed to

accommodate humans. The Patrians, it seemed, had

gone all out and spared no expense. Iano explained

that the entire staff had been subjected to an exhaus-

tive security check, and that no one could get in or out

of the building without passing a number of security

checkpoints.

     They've gone to a lot of trouble to make us feel

 secure, thought Kirk. And the fact that they felt the

 need to go to all that trouble said a great deal about

 the situation they were facing.

     "I'll inform the staff of your arrival," Iano said,

 "and see to it that everything is properly prepared for

 you. I shall also go and see that everything is in

 readiness on the lower floors of the legation, where

71

 your liaison personnel will be headquartered. In the

 meantime, perhaps you'd care to examine the facili-

 ties and let me know if there's anything else you may

 require. I will return shortly."

     "Well, I must say, they certainly are hospitable,"

 McCoy said after lano left. "We each get one of these

 suites?"

     "It certainly looks that way," Kirk said. "However,

 I have a feeling we're going to earn them."

     "Captain," Spock said, "have you noticed anything

 about Lieutenant Iano that struck you as a bit...

 unusual?"

     "What do you mean, Spock?" Kirk asked. "Unusu-

 al in what way?"

     "His knowledge of idiomatic English, for example,"

 Spock replied.

  "I think it's quite good," Kirk said.

    "Indeed, Captain, it is excellent," Spock said. "We

have observed that the Patrians learn quickly. Com-

mander Anjor's command of standard Terran was

more than reasonably fluent, considering the relative-

ly short amount of time he had in which to study it.

However, Lieutenant Iano's fluency is not only mark-

edly superior to that of Commander Anjor's, but

seems to be improving rather rapidly."

    Kirk frowned. "I'm not sure I get your point, Spock.

What are you suggesting?"

    "Merely that there may be more to Lieutenant Iano

than meets the eye. He seemed puzzled at first by

several figures of speech that were used in our conver-

sation, and yet he used a figure of speech himself, just

moments later, when he said that the Patrian Repub-

lics would be no more than 'a voice in the chorus' if

they joined the Federation."

72

    "Yes, I seem to remember that, now that you

mention it," Kirk said.

    "So? What's so unusual about that?" McCoy asked.

"He's merely concerned about the future of his socie-

ty and his culture. That seems perfectly normal."

    "Yes, Doctor, it does indeed," Spock said. "Howev-

er, that is also quite beside the point. The point is that

the figure of speech, 'a voice in the chorus,' harkens

back to classical Greek drama, something for which

Lieutenant Iano would have no frame of reference. If

the language programs transmitted to the Patrians

were not deficient as to such things as figures of speech

and cultural idiom, than why would Lieutenant Iano

act as if they were? And if they were, indeed, defi-

cient in that regard, then where would Lieutenant

Iano have learned the reference for 'a voice in the

chorus'?"

    McCoy frowned. "I hadn't thought of that," he

admitted. "He did pull that one right out of the air,

didn't he?"

    "And there is another interesting aspect to Lieuten-

ant Iano's speech," Spock said. "When we first met

him, he spoke standard Terran very formally and

correctly, without employing any contractions. And

yet, after only a short while with us, he is using

contractions fluently. It is, of course, possible that he

has a gift for languages, but he does seem to be

learning at a rather unusual rate."

     "In other words, you think he knows a lot more

 than he admits to," Kirk said.

     "But... if that were the case, why would he bother

 to conceal it?" Chekov asked, puzzled. "It makes no

 sense. What purpose would be served in his mislead-

 ing us?"

               73

 "That, Mr. Chekov, is a very good question," Kirk

 said.

     "Why don't we just put it to him bluntly?" McCoy

 asked.

     "No, I don't think so, Bones," Kirk said. "At least,

 not yet. We're in a somewhat delicate position here.

 We have to consider not only our immediate problem,

 but the larger question of Patrian membership in the

 Federation. It seems there are elements of Patrian

 society who are opposed to it. We don't want to do

 anything that could give them any ammunition."

     "But if Iano's being less than honest with us..."

 McCoy said.

    "We don't really know that for a fact," Kirk said.

"But even if it's true, put yourself in his position. I

don't think he really wants our help on this investiga-

tion. You hit the nail right on the head when you said

we were crammed down his throat by his superiors.

We don't like it much when bureaucrats try to tell us

how to do our jobs, why should Iano be any different?

And can we blame him if he's not? We're being

cautious because we don't know very much about

him. Isn't he in exactly the same position?"

    "So then... what are we supposed to do?" Chekov

asked.

    "We'll just have to play it by ear," Kirk replied,

shrugging. "Officially, we may be running the show,

but he's got a much bigger stake in this than we do. It's

personal for him. He lost a partner. We all know what

that means. We have to remember that there's more at

stake here than the matter of Klingons supplying the

Patrian rebels with disruptors. The Pattiaris will be

watching the way we handle this. While the negotia-

74

tions are proceeding, they'll be judging the Federation

by what we do and how we do it."

    "Well, that's a comforting thought," McCoy said

dryly. "Nothing like a little pressure, is there?"

    "If this is pressure," Chekov said, indicating their

luxurious quarters, "I think I could handle it."

    Iano returned a few moments later with two Patrian

police officers. He performed the introductions. "Offi-

cers Jalo and Inal will be in charge of liaison support

during your stay here," he said. "They will be quar-

tered three floors below you, along with their support

team, and one of them will always be on duty. They

both speak standard Terran with reasonable fluency,

and will be able to provide you with whatever you

require."

    "I'd like to bring some of my own people down to

work with them," Kirk said.

    "Certainly, Captain," Iano replied. "At your conve-

nience."

    Kirk snapped open his communicator. "Kirk to

Enterprise. Come in."

    "Scott here, Captain," came the reply. "Go ahead,

sir."

    "Scotty, I'd like you to detail two crewmen to beam

down to these coordinates to work with the Patrians

as liaison support. I think a yeoman and a communi-

cations specialist should fill the bill."

  "Aye, Captain. Should they be armed?"

    "Issue phasers, Mr. Scott. And you might have

them bring along some universal translators, just in

case. The Patrians will be able to supply them with

whatever else they may require." He looked around at

the suite and smiled. "I think they'll find it relatively

               75

 painless duty. Have them beamed down to these

 coordinates as soon as possible."  "Aye, sir, right away."

     "Kirk out." He snapped his communicator shut.

 "Our people should be transporting down in just a

 little while," he told Iano.

     "Officer Jato will stand by to brief them when they

 arrive."

 "Oh?" McCoy said. "Are we going someplace?"

 "We have a job to do," Iano said. He turned to Kirk.

 "That is, I have a job to do. It is, of course, your

 decision, Captain."

    He isn't used to having someone else running the

show, Kirk thought. And he doesn't like it one damn

bit. "If you have a course of action in mind, Lieuten-

ant, by all means, let's pursue it."

    "I was planning to 'follow up a lead,' as I believe

you humans would put it," Iano said. "I could easily

go by myself, but I would be pleased to have you and

your officers accompany me. If we encounter rebels

armed with disruptors, we may be grateful for the

numbers. Especially since your people are armed with

phasers."

    "You think there's a chance we could be attacked?"

McCoy asked as they headed for the lift.

    "I would be very much surprised if the rebels were

not aware of your presence here by now," Iano

replied. "We have taken security precautions, but we

should remain on our guard whenever we are away

from here. Officers Jalo and Inal will have all the

records of the investigation available for your people

as soon as they arrive. In the meantime, I will brief

you as best I can while we proceed."

               76

As they made their way up to the roof, Iano quickly

filled them in.

    "At the moment, I am seeking a suspect named Rak

Jolo," Iano said. "According to my information, he is

known to frequent a gaming club known as the Arena.

I had intended to visit the club and make inquiries.

Unless, of course, you prefer another course of ac-

tion."

    "There's no need to tiptoe around our sensibilities,

Lieutenant," Kirk said as they reached the roof and

began walking toward the police flier. "You're the one

who's been doing all the work on this case. We still

have a lot of catching up to do."

    "By gaming club," McCoy said, "are we talking

about gambling?"

    "Gambling?" Iano said. "Ah, you mean games of

chance in which wagers are placed. Yes, I believe you

could call this a gambling club, although I do not

know if it would correspond with the sort of gambling

you have in your culture. But you will see for yourself.

And you may even place a wager or two, if you like."

    "This ought to be interesting," McCoy said with a

grin. "What sort of games are they? Cards? Dice?

Computer simulations?"

    "Life and death," Iano said as they got into the flier.

"They are games of life and death."

    Iano piloted the flier in silence, banking gracefully

and soaring between the buildings. Other airborne

vehicles moved past them, both above and below, and

it became evident that the colored lights on the

buildings marked traffic lanes. Some of the airborne

vehicles below them were larger than the others, and

77

 Kirk guessed that these were slower-moving public

 transports, while others were small, one-person skim-

 mers as well as larger vehicles, flying above them in

 the faster lanes.

     Even with the lights on the buildings marking off

 the traffic lanes at various levels and changing color to

 indicate when movement from one lane to another

 was permissable, Kirk could not see how so many

 vehicles could occupy such crowded airspace without

 collisions. Perhaps each individual vehicle was

 equipped with some sort of collision avoidance sys-

 tem, a computerized tracking program that sensed the

 momentum and direction of vehicles in its vicinity

 and automatically incorporated the data into the

 navigation system. Either that or the Patrians pos-

 sessed astonishingly quick reactions, for they saw no

 accidents.

    The traffic had grown considerably heavier now.

They were in a much more congested part of the city.

Kirk couldn't help but wonder if any of the vehicles

they passed in the air traffic lanes carried Patrian

terrorists, and if those terrorists might be carrying

disruptors. One good shot was all that it would take. It

was one thing to face a Klingon battle cruiser in space,

even if the ship was cloaked--because they had to

decloak before they could fire, and there were wavs of

spotting a cloaked ship--but this was something else

again.

    Here, they were not in space, but in a teeming city,

surrounded by thousands of innocent civilians, any

one of whom could be a terrorist. Any one of the

airborne vehicles they passed, or that passed them,

could suddenly draw even with them and fire without

warning, then lose itself into the crowded traffic

78

patterns. Any civilian on the street could open up with

a disruptor at a police vehicle skimming overhead,

then disappear into the crowd. For the first time, Kirk

began to get an appreciation of just what the Patrian

authorities were up against. And now, just what he

and his officers were up against. It was an extremely

unsettling feeling. That was the true horror of terror-

ism, he thought. It wore an ordinary face, and it hid

among other ordinary faces, and it could strike at any

time.

    Iano slowed as he banked around a building and

descended to about fifteen feet above the teeming

street level, slowing down considerably so they could

get a good look at their surroundings.

    "This is the oldest and most crowded section of the

city," he said. "And also the most crime-ridden. This

part of the city never sleeps. It's here that the rebels

have been the most active. They've struck at targets of

opportunity throughout the capital, but always in a

radius from this area. The rebels find a haven here

among the other criminals. An assassin's favorite

environment is always a crowd. My job--perhaps I

should say our job--will be to force them out into the

light of day. And I think your presence here may

accomplish that very thing."

     He pushed forward on the stick and the flier began

 to descend.

79

Chapter Four

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN several hours ago, but the

streets were bright as day. Everywhere they looked

there was a symphony of colored lights. Hundreds

of elaborate signs flashed invitations to enter dozens

of different emporiums. Raucous, amplified, pre-

recorded messages blared their pitches out into the

night. It was a cacophony of sights and smells and

sounds, reminiscent of some of the Federation's wild-

est and most wide-open cities, such as Bangkok,

Bradbury City, New York, or Elysium.

    Traffic in the air lanes was heavy, and pedestrians

thronged the streets below. McCoy was startled as a

formation of what at first glance looked like guided

missiles swooped down past the police flier on his

side, practically brushing it with their tail fins.

    "What in the world./" He recoiled instinctively,

taken aback at what seemed a near miss by a flock of

80

photon torpedoes, but then he abruptly realized that

there were helmeted riders aboard those missile-

shaped rockets, tucked in tightly behind small wind-

shields as they darted in and out of traffic alarmingly.

"Don't people believe in speed limits around here?"

he asked irritably.

    "Most people do," Iano replied. "However, the

police are generally exempt."

  "Those were police?" McCoy asked.

    "We call them suicide squads," Iano said. "They

are special volunteers. We have had a number of

terrorist attacks in which the rebels have employed

rocket sleds. They are far more maneuverable than

our pursuit fliers, and as a result, make it easier for the

rebels to escape. The suicide squads maintain a visible

presence in the city, in an effort to discourage such

tactics. It is difficult to fire a disruptor and avoid high

speed pursuit at the same time. On the other hand,

police officers on rocket sleds make very tempting

targets to rebels on the ground. And those sleds are

dangerous in heavy traffic. The collision avoidance

systems of the other vehicles often do not register

them. It takes a rather special breed of police officer to

volunteer for such duty. They tend to be somewhat

reckless, and they often enjoy baiting the rest of us, as

you've just seen. It is all a game to them. Some games,

of course, are more dangerous than others."

     "Such as these life or death games you were talking

 about?" Kirk asked.

     "The most interesting games are always the ones

 with the highest stakes," Iano replied.

     "Exactly what are we talking about here?" McCoy

 asked. "Surely, you don't mean the stakes are literally

 life or death?"

81

     "That is the most intense sort of competition,

 Bones," Iano said. "If you win, you could become

 very wealthy. If you lose, you could die."

  "What the hell kind of game is that?" McCoy asked.

     "You do not have such sports on your Federation

 worlds?" Iano asked.

     "I certainly wouldn't call them sports," McCoy

 replied.

    "In all fairness, Doctor," Spock said, "I feel I

should point out that while blood sports may be

somewhat controversial, they do exist on Federation

worlds. Earth's history, for example, shows evidence

of many different kinds of blood sports, from the

gladiatorial games of ancient Rome and the jousting

competitions of medieval England to the buskashi

games of the Afghan tribesmen and the kumite mar-

tial arts competitions of the Orient, among which

death matches were not unknown. To this day, the

sport of boxing remains quite popular, and it could

certainly fall under the category of a blood sport."

    "Blood sport," Iano repeated, slowing down and

guiding the flier toward the street below. "An interest-

ing term. And I suppose it would apply to such games

as we are about to witness. These games are also

somewhat controversial, but they are not illegal. At

least, not yet. If they were outlawed, then I, for one,

would not complain. The games are often trouble-

some. Still, there is much support for them. And they

bring in a great deal of revenue."

"You mean you tax them?" Chekov asked.

"There are licensing and registration fees for the

game masters, and competition fees and waiver

charges for the players," lano replied. "The govern-

ment also takes a percentage of the bets, though

               82

private wagers escape the tax, as it would be practical-

ly impossible to regulate them. Rather large sums of

money often change hands on private wagers as a

result, though they are technically illegal."

  "Fascinating," Spock said.

    "It sounds a lot like the procedures used with

betting on thoroughbred horse races back on Earth,"

Kirk said.

    "Horse races?" Iano asked as the flier came to a

stop. "Ah, yes. You are referring to the large, domesti-

cated mammals once used for transportation on your

world, and now bred primarily for sport and private

ownership as pets. We have an animal that functions

in a rather similar role, a large, bipedal reptile called a

razzik. However, you will not see any razziks in the

city. There is not enough space for them here."

    Iano opened the doors of the flier and they stepped

out into the street. When they had all exited the

vehicle, Iano closed the gull-wing doors and activated

an electronic force field that would protect the flier

while it was unattended.

    "When we return, take care that you do not ap-

proach the flier until I have deactivated the force

field," Iano cautioned them as he put away his remote

control unit. "It could cause serious injury."

    "Aren't you worried about somebody brushing up

against the flier accidentally?" McCoy asked, noting

the heavy pedestrian traffic on the street around them.

    "No," Iano said. "It is a police vehicle. People

should know to keep away from it."

    As Iano started across the street, McCoy glanced at

the others. "Charming fellow, isn't he?" he said.

    "Well, I don't think he's any happier being stuck

with us than we are being stuck with him," Kirk said

83

 as they started a~~er him. "But like it or not, we need

 him. We'll just have to make the best of it until we find

 out how those Klingon disruptors are reaching the

 rebel terrorists."

     "That could take a long time," Chekov said dubi-

 ously.

    "Think positive, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said. "The

rebels are against contact with the Federation. Vio-

lently so. That means there's a good chance our

presence here will force their hand."

    Iano was waiting for them at the entrance to what

was apparently a gaming house. "Your presence here

will undoubtedly create considerable interest," he

said as they approached, almost as if he were replying

to Kirk's remarks, though he couldn't possibly have

heard them with all the noise in the street.

    "Yes, we've already noticed," Kirk said, looking

around. They were attracting a great deal of attention.

A crowd was gathering, and people were staring and

pointing at them excitedly. "It's one of the things I'm

counting on," he added. "The assassination of a

Federation starship captain and his officers could

create a serious diplomatic incident, one that certain-

ly would gain the rebels a great deal of notoriety."

    "In other words, we make a target that's hard to

resist," McCoy said with a grimace.

    "I had considered that as well," Iano said. "Howev-

er, I would not wish to expose you to any unnecessary

risk."

    "I don't mind a little risk if it gets the job done,

Lieutenant," Kirk said. "My officers understand that

tOO."

    Iano nodded. "Of course," he said. His gaze lin-

gered on Spock for a moment and he looked as if he

84

were about to say something else, then apparently

changed his mind. "The gaming houses in this district

tend to attract what you humans would call 'a rough

element,'" he said. "In the event that there is any

trouble, you have the authority to employ deadly force

if necessary."

    "Only if it's absolutely necessary, Lieutenant,"

Kirk replied, beckoning him to lead the way.

    "Thank you, Captain," Iano said. He looked at the

others, and his gaze once more lingered briefly on

Spock. Again, for a moment, it looked as if he wanted

to say something else, but then he turned and went

through the entryway into the gaming house.

  "Curious," Spock said, raising an eyebrow.

  "What is it, Spock?" Kirk asked.

    "I am not yet certain, Captain," Spock replied, "but

I have a suspicion about Lieutenant Iano that may

explain a few things and put our present situation in

an altogether different light. However, for the moment

I would prefer to keep it to myself, until I have

something more than merely an unsubstantiated the-

ory. I could be wrong."

    "Yes, you could be, but you rarely are," Kirk said.

"What's on your mind, Spock?"

    "Perhaps we should discuss that later, Captain,"

Spock replied. "Lieutenant Iano has already gone

inside, and we are attracting a great deal of attention

out here in the street."

    "Yes, I see your point," Kirk said, looking around at

the excited crowd, which was rapidly growing larger.

    They went through the arched entryway into the

gaming house. A number of the curious onlookers

followed them in from the street.

  The light inside was very dim, and it was even

               85

 noisier inside the club than it was outside. Loud

 music assaulted them, quite unlike anything they had

 ever heard before, filling the interior of the dark and

 cavernous establishment. It sounded like a strange

 mixture of howling wind, crashing surf, and weird,

 rattling, percussive noises, like hundreds of sticks

 being struck together. Kirk might not even have

 recognized it as music, except that it had a powerfully

 rhythmic ebb and flow, rising and falling steadily in

 an eerie manner that was almost hypnotic. Black

 seemed to be the dominant color scheme throughout

 the place, though not so much a color, Kirk mused, as

 an absence of color.

    They stood just inside the entrance, at the top of a

flight of stairs that led down to the floor of the

establishment. Below them, bodies writhed in intri-

cate, sinuous dance patterns on the main floor as the

disturbing music swelled and faded repeatedly. The

image that leaped unbidden to Kirk's mind was that

of snakes writhing.

    "Fascinating," Spock said as he gazed down at the

tableau spread out before them.

    "It looks like a scene from Dante's Inferno,"

Chekov said.

    "It's just another nightclub, Mr. Chekov," Kirk

replied, spotting the bar at the side of the room. It was

located against the wall, in a lounge section that was

on a slightly higher level than the dance floor. "A

different world, a different race, and different cus-

toms, but the basic idea's still the same."

    "Not quite the same, Captain," Spock replied. "The

ambience here seems a great deal less social than

ritualistic. These people are not merely dancing. They

86

appear to be quite deliberately working themselves up

into a frenzy."

    "For what purpose?" Kirk asked with a puzzled

frown.

    "For the games, Captain Kirk," Iano replied. "It

seems we have come just in time to witness the start of

the festivities. This way..."

    As they started to descend the stairs, the music rose

in pitch and a section of the floor began to move. A

slablike monolith began to rise out of the floor, and

some of the dancers immediately stepped off it, while

others continued to undulate on the slowly rising

platform, waiting until it rose higher before leaping off

into the waiting arms of the crowd below. As Kirk

watched, the large, dark, rectangular monolith contin-

ued to come up out of the floor. He had no idea what it

was supposed to be.

    No one paid any attention to the men of the

Enterprise as they came down the stairs with Iano.

That seemed puzzling at first, until Kirk realized that

the Patrians probably couldn't even tell that human

aliens--and one Vulcanmhad suddenly come among

them. In the dim light of the nightclub, one silhouet-

ted, humanoid form looked much like any other at

first glance. Besides, everyone's attention seemed to

be on the slowly rising monolith.

    As they came down to the main level, a second

black monolith began to come up out of the floor,

taking some of the dancers with it as it rose. When it

had risen to about half the height of the first monolith,

a third one started to rise, and then a fourth, and then

a fifth and sixth, until finally there were seven rectan-

gular monoliths in all, each approximately four feet

87

square by twelve feet high, each separated from those

closest to it by a distance of about five feet. Two of the

monoliths stood side by side, then there were three in

a row, staggered in relation to the first two, and then

the last two stood parallel with the first two. Seen from

above, Kirk realized, six of the monoliths formed a

circle, with the seventh monolith in the center.

    As he looked up, Kirk saw that there were three

upper galleries encircling the room, from which spec-

tators could look down onto the main floor. Iano,

however, was not leading them toward the stairs that

led up to the gallery levels. Instead, he took the

shorter, wider flight of steps that led up to the lounge,

near the bar. He approached one of the tables and

simply stood before it, looking down at those who

were seated there. They glanced up at him and imme-

diately vacated their seats without a word. Iano

beckoned Kirk and the others to the table.

    As they sat down, Kirk glanced apologetically at the

people they'd displaced. The Patrians, in turn~ stared

at the men of the Enterprise with fascination and

perhaps even a little fear. "It really wasn't necessary

to make those people move," he said.

    "Perhaps not, but it was convenient," Iano replied.

"This table will afford you a good view of the proceed-

ings. At the same time, its location allows us to see

everyone who comes in or out of this establishment."

    "What is this place called?" Chekov asked as he

glanced around.

 "It is known as the Arena Club," Iano replied.

    "What exactly are those things?" McCoy asked,

indicating the monoliths.

  "The towers? You shall see in a moment," lano

               88

replied. He signaled a server, who apprehensively

came over to their table to take their order.

    Kirk and the others declined to order anything. As

Iano spoke to the server, she stared at the officers of

the Enterprise. Up to this point, the differences be-

tween Patrian males and females had escaped Kirk's

human eyes, but now he saw that Pathan females were

slightly smaller in stature, had a less pronounced brow

ridge, and were of a more pale, slightly mottled hue. In

general, Patrians seemed to move with a very sinuous

grace, but the females were even more so. Kirk

watched appreciatively as she moved away.

    Suddenly, the music stopped. "Ladies and gentle-

men," an amplified voice announced through a public

address system, "welcome to the Arena Club! Let the

games begin/"

    As the audience broke out in spontaneous cheering,

Kirk and the others followed the announcements

through the tiny and practically invisible remote

earpieces of their universal translators. One by one the

dark monoliths out in the center of the main floor lit

up, each with a different color, as the audience

cheered. It was an unnerving sound. The cheering of

the Patrians was a sort of throaty, whistling sound,

vaguely reminiscent of the sounds made by the bull

roarers of Australian aborigines.

    "Presenting... the challengers/" the announcer

shouted over the public address system. "Wearing

blue... challenger Azk Yalu.t"

    A Patrian male dressed in a bright blue skinsuit shot

up through the center of the blue-lit tower to emerge

at its top, waving some sort of staff.

  "Wearing orange... challenger Zyl Barg/"

               89

    Another male in a similar skinsuit, only in bright

orange, shot up through the orange-lit monolith and

emerged on top, waving a staff like the first competi-

tor.

    Kirk realized there had to be a retractable hatch at

the top of each tower. The monoliths were hollow, like

small lift tubes, and when they were illuminated, it

was possible to see through them. Each competitor

apparently entered the tower from a basement and

was then fired up through the tube by some sort of

spring-loaded or compressed-air launching platform.

As each competitor cleared the open hatch at the top

of the tube, the hatch quickly slid shut, allowing the

competitor to land on top of it.  "Very dramatic," he said.

    "It grows even more so, Captain," Iano replied.

"That is the entire point, after all."

    By now all six challengers had appeared atop their

respective towers. All were dressed identically, except

in different colors, and all carried the same type of

staff, which appeared to be made from some sort of

metal, with a round ball at one end and a squared-off,

lancelike projection at the other.

"What are those metal poles?" Chekov asked.

"They are fighting staffs, Mr. Chekov," lano re-

plied. "The rounded end is simply a mace, to strike

with. The other end contains a device capable of

delivering a strong electrical shock."

 "How strong?" Kirk asked, curious.

    "Strong enough to stun," Iano replied. "Repeated

applications are capable of causing death."

    "And this is your idea of a sport?" McCoy said, in a

tone that clearly conveyed his disapproval.

               90

  "Take it easy, Bones," Kirk cautioned him.

    "And now, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer

said, "your champion! Wearing white... the unde-

feated... the indomitable... Zor Kalo!"

    The crowd roared as the champion came shooting

up out of the center tower and landed on top of it,

brandishing his staff. He was clearly the crowd favor-

ite.

    "Kalo is a professional, the finest fighter in the

games," Iano explained. "He has never lost a match."

    "Before we begin our games tonight, ladies and

gentlemen, we have an important announcement. We

are honored and privileged tonight to have among us as

our special guests... the commander of the Federa-

tion starship, Enterprise, Captain James T. Kirk, and

his senior o2hcers. Please join us in extending a warm

welcome to our distinguished foreign visitors/"

    As a bright spotlight hit their table, Kirk rose and

beckoned the others to do the same. He held his hands

out to the crowd in the Patrian greeting, and the

others did likewise. The ovation lasted almost as long

as the one they gave the champion. Iano nodded at

them with approval as they resumed their seats. Kirk

realized he must have given the server a message for

the announcer to introduce them.

    "Well, if the rebels didn't know we were here before,

they'll certainly know now," Kirk said.

    "That was what you wanted, was it not?" Iano said.

"The Federation is here to establish diplomatic rela-

tions. I thought I would give you an opportunity

to... diplomatically relate."

    "Remind us to thank you when your terrorists

shoot us in the back," McCoy said.

               91

    As the signal was given for the commencement of

the game, the audience roared and the men of the

Enterprise watched with fascination as the combat-

ants squared off against one another. Their fighting

staffs were about six feet long, while the closest towers

were separated by about five feet. This gave each

combatant a reach of about one foot into the area of

his nearest opponents. The tops of the towers were

about four feet square, so a combatant could quickly

move back out of reach. However, the way the towers

were arranged, each combatant was within striking

distance of at least three other opponents, and this

was assuming that everyone kept to their own tower,

which, as Kirk and the others soon saw, was not the

way the game was played.

    "The object of the game," Iano said, "is to be the

last one standing on the towers. There is no time limit,

nor any rules. A player can do whatever he wishes to

dislodge the others."

    "You mean they try to knock the other players off

the towers? But then what is to prevent them from

falling onto the spectators below?" Chekov asked.

  "Nothing, Mr. Chekov," Iano said. "Observe."

  Standing at the central position, the champion,

  Kalo, could strike at any of the six challengers, but

  that meant each of them could also strike at him.

  Consequently, he wasted absolutely no time in mak-

  ing his first move. As soon as the reverberating,

  electronic tone that signaled the start of the match was

  sounded, Kato used his fighting staff to vault from his

  centrally positioned tower over to the green-lit tower

  of one of the challengers. He struck the challenger

  dressed in green with both feet, knocking him back-

               92

ward off the tower and into the crowd. The man's cry

was drowned out in the roar of the crowd as he

dropped his staff and fell back into their waiting arms.

They buoyed him up, passing him around so that he

seemed to bob on their shoulders like a cork on water.

    "They will toss him about like that until they grow

weary of him," Iano explained. "Then they will let

him down. If he is lucky, he will merely go home with

a few bruises."

"What do you mean, if he's lucky?" McCoy asked.

"On occasion, if the crowd is worked up enough, it

can become rather violent," Iano said. "Unpopular

competitors have sometimes been found dead on the

floor of the arena after the games are over. And not

always in one piece."

    The game had only just begun, and one competitor

had already been eliminated. Another had been

stunned. As Kalo had launched his attack, the chal-

lenger in orange, Barg, struck out at a red-suited

opponent to his left with the stunner tip of his fighting

staff. There was a crackling discharge as the red-suited

challenger jerked violently and collapsed to his knees,

barely avoiding falling off the tower. At the same time,

the challenger closest to him, in a purple suit, had

turned to meet the threat of Kalo, who had vaulted to

the green tower next to him. Barg took advantage of

this by immediately leaping to the red tower, kicking

his stunned opponent off into the crowd below and

attacking the purple-suited challenger from behind,

striking him at the base of the spine with the stunner.

The purple-suited fighter cried out as he spasmed

violently and toppled from the tower.

 At the same time, the challenger in blue, Yalu, had

                       93

engaged a yellow-suited challenger on the tower next

to him. He parried a thrust with the stunner tip of his

opponent's staff, they exchanged several quick thrusts

and parries, and then Yalu connected with a blow,

striking his opponent's head with the ball end of his

staff. Blood flowed freely down the face of Yalu's

opponent as he staggered heavily, leaving himself

wide open for Yalu's next blow, which knocked him

down into the crowd below.

    McCoy jumped up, but Iano reached out and

grabbed him by the arm, shaking his head.

    "That man might be seriously hurt!" McCoy pro-

tested.

    "You would never reach him," Iano said. "And you

would be at considerable risk yourself down there in

that crowd. The fighter knew the risks when he signed

up for the match. Besides, there is nothing you can do,

in any case."

    The game was violent, fast-moving, and completely

unpredictable. Within only a matter of moments four

of the competitors had been eliminated and only three

combatants were left. And there was yet another

wrinkle in the game that made it still more dangerous.

    As each competitor was eliminated, his tower,

illuminated in a color corresponding to his suit, went

dark. In the dim light of the arena, illuminated only

by spotlights playing down on the combatants, the

brightly lit towers had provided not only platforms

from which to fight, but easily spotted areas of retreat.

Now, four of those towers had gone dark, and in the

heat of combat, the competitors could not easily tell

exactly where they were.

  "The competition has now entered the stage where

                       94

the champion has a slight advantage," Iano explained

as the match progressed. "With four of the challengers

eliminated, there are four unoccupied towers the

remaining competitors can use for additional freedom

of movement. However, with those four towers

blacked out, they are difficult to spot. For us, sitting

here, and for the spectators, it is easier to make out the

blacked-out towers. For the competitors, engaged in

fast-paced combat as they are, it is extremely difficult.

At most, they can risk only a quick glance. Having

fought in the arena before, the champion has a better

idea where those darkened towers are in relation to

the others. He has the experience of his previous

matches to benefit him. The challengers must rely

primarily on memory and instinct. And on luck, of

course."

    "So then it would be to the advantage of the

challengers to team up and eliminate the champion as

soon as possible, before turning their attention to each

other," Kirk said.

    "Very good, Captain," Iano said, nodding. "I see

you devise strategy very quickly. That would indeed

be the smartest thing for the challengers to do at this

stage of the match. However, in the heat of combat,

few people think so clearly. And when there is a

considerable amount of prize money at stake, there is

also the complicating factor of greed. Observe..."

    Kirk saw that Iano was right. Instead of uniting--at

least temporarily--to eliminate the greater threat, the

two remaining challengers each thought only of them-

selves and continued to fight solo, directing their

efforts not only at the champion, Kalo, but at each

other as well. Barg, the challenger in the orange suit,

95

struck out at Kalo, the white-suited champion, but

even as he did so, Yalu, in the blue suit, launched an

attack at him and Barg was forced to pivot sharply,

breaking off his attack on Kalo as he brought his

fighting staff up to parry Yalu's blow. This gave Kalo

time to jump to one of the other darkened towers,

putting himself out of reach of his two remaining

challengers.

    Kirk saw exactly what Iano had meant about experi-

ence in the game being an advantage to the champion.

With a spotlight on him, Kalo had to leap blindly out

into the darkness, using only his judgment to deter-

mine where he was going to land. The spotlight

followed him, of course, but only after he had already

initiated his leap. If he had misjudged it, the spotlight

would illuminate him as he missed the tower and fell

into the crowd below. However, Kalo had judged his

jump perfectly and landed squarely in the middle of

the darkened tower where the purple-suited challeng-

er had stood.

    The match slowed down now and became less of a

fast-paced melee than a tension-impregnated dance.

The champion's strategy, Kirk soon realized, was to

keep putting distance between himself and the chal-

lengers. He was relying on his greater familiarity with

the relative positions of the darkened towers, forcing

the two challengers to choose between concentrating

their efforts against each other or making risky jumps

to the darkened towers in order to reach him. Kirk

found the competition utterly compelling and he

couldn't take his eyes off the fighters.

    He felt his own pulse start to race as he became

vicariously involved in the combat, and he found

96

himself rooting for the champion, who was fighting

intelligently and against the odds, trying to win one

more match. Kirk watched the way he moved, with a

fluid, athletic grace, and he started to anticipate the

way Kalo judged the possibilities.

    Then he glanced at Iano and noticed that the

lieutenant wasn't really watching the match. The

Patrian police officer was carefully scanning the crowd

around them, an alert, intense expression on his face.

Kirk glanced at Spock and nodded. While McCoy and

Chekov watched the match, McCoy with an expres-

sion of dismay and Chekov with rapt interest, Kirk

and Spock began to watch the crowd.

    It was easy to get caught up in the excitement of the

match, Kirk realized, but they were playing another,

more dangerous game of their own. He could not

afford to allow himself to be distracted. Anyone in the

crowd could be a rebel terrorist. And in a place like

this, an attack could come from anywhere, without

warning.

    Suddenly, in a bold move, Yalu parried a thrust

from Barg and leaped toward the centrally positioned

white tower. Barg, positioned once more on his own

illuminated tower, turned to the center as Yalu leaped,

but at the same time, Kalo executed a leap in the same

direction, timing his jump perfectly so that he landed

on the white tower at the same time as Yalu. Before

Yalu could fully recover his balance, Kalo threw a

hard body block into the startled challenger, knocking

him backward off the tower, and in almost the same

motion, he hurled his fighting staff, stunner tip first, at

Barg. Caught completely by surprise, Barg was struck

squarely in the chest by Kalo's thrown staff and there

97

was a crackling discharge as the stunner tip made

contact. Barg cried out and spasmed wildly, then lost

his footing and toppled back into the crowd. The

audience roared as the champion raised his arms over

his head in victory.

  "Fascinating," Spock said.

    "Fascinating?" McCoy repeated. "You call that

fascinating? If you ask me, it's barbaric!"

    "Nevertheless, Doctor, it is a contest that involves

speed, strength, agility, coordination, and quick

thinking," Spock replied. "And no small degree of

fighting skill. As such, I find it fascinating."

    "It does get the blood up to watch such a competi-

tion," Chekov said.

    "I believe it does at that, Mr. Chekov," Kirk

admitted. "Lieutenant, I..." His voice trailed off as

he saw the faces of the crowd all turning toward him,

and he suddenly realized that the victorious champi-

on, Kalo, was pointing at him and holding out his

staff. "What's going on?" he asked.

    "Interesting," Iano said. "I do believe you're being

challenged, Captain."

  "What?" McCoy said.

    The spotlight struck their table. Kalo was looking

straight at Kirk and beckoning to him. The crowd

grew even more excited.

  "Is this your doing?" McCoy asked Iano angrily.

    Iano shook his head. "No. But you must admit it is

an interesting development."

    "Well, I've never been one to turn down a chal-

lenge," Kirk said, getting up.

    "Jim! You're not seriously thinking of accepting?"

McCoy said with alarm.

               98

    "Why not?" Kirk replied. "We came here to be

noticed. And what better way to be noticed than to

become the center of attention?"

    "That man is a professional!" McCoy said. "A

champion!"

    Kirk smiled. "Oh, I don't think he'll hurt me,

Bones. He's just making a gesture. And we are here to

establish diplomatic relations, after all." He turned

toward the champion, held up his hands in acknowl-

edgment, and bowed slightly. "How do I get down

there?"

    As if in answer to his question, an attendant sud-

denly appeared at his side, beckoning him to follow.

    "I think I had better go with you," Iano said, gazing

at the crowd uneasily.

     "No, Lieutenant, you stay here and keep an eye

out," Kirk replied. "Mr. Spock will accompany me."

  "Watch yourself," Iano said.

  Kirk nodded. "I intend to."

    Spock got up and they accompanied the attendant

to the basement, where they were led to the bases of

the towers and Kirk was given a fighting staff. He

hefted it experimentally. It was a relatively simple

device, weighted for balance. There were no controls

of any sort. The stunner device at the tip was automat-

ic, working on contact. The attendant beckoned him

toward the entrance at the base of one of the towers.

Kirk turned to Spock.

     "As soon as I'm up there, get back up with the

others," he said. "Keep your eyes open." Spock nodded. "Be careful, Captain."

    Kirk smiled. "I'll be all right. This will be a good

opportunity to make some points for the Federation,

               99

show them we're good sports. But don't watch me.

Keep your eyes on that crowd. I'm going to make a

good target up there."

  "I am aware of that, Captain," Spock replied.

  "Right. Well... here goes."

    He stepped into the tower, holding the staff upright

by his side. The attendant pointed up. Kirk glanced

up and suddenly felt himself launched through the

hollow tube with a loud hiss of compressed air. A

second later he came up through the open hatchway at

the top, rising several feet above the tower as the

crowd roared all around him. He looked down quickly

and saw the hatch slide shut, then his momentum

stopped and he began to drop. He landed lightly on

top of the tower and looked around.

    All the towers were now illuminated, though only

he and the challenger stood upon them. The noise of

the crowd was deafening. This was going to be a

special treat for them. Their champion was going to

fight a human, something they had never seen before.

He glanced at Kalo.

    The Patrian looked much bigger up close than he

had from a distance. He was taller than Kirk by

almost a foot, and powerfully built. He stood on his

tower a short distance away-, facing him, and held his

staff out straight in front of him, across his body and

parallel to the ground. Kirk took up the same posi-

tion.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, "the announcer said, "in an

unprecedented event, we are proud to present a special

exhibition match! Captain Kirk, of the United Federa-

tion of Planets, commander of the Starship Enterprise,

which is currently visiting our world for the purpose of

               100

establishing diplomatic relations with the Patrian Re-

publics, versus the undisputed, undefeated champion of

the arena games, the one and only, Zor Kalo.t"

  The crowd went wild.

    "For the purpose of this special exhibition match, all

the towers will remain illuminated," the announcer

said. '54nd out of deference to the Federation challeng-

er, who is a stranger to our games, there will be a

special time limit of three minutes. At the end of the

elapsed time, the tone will sound, signaling the conclu-

sion of the match. Are the competitors prepared to

start?"

    Kirk turned toward the announcer's booth and

nodded. Kalo simply held up his staff and shook it.

Kirk smiled at the champion. Then the electronic tone

sounded to signal the start of the match.

    Kirk immediately crouched into a fighting stance.

The champion attacked at once. He thrust his staff at

Kirk, ball end first, and Kirk parried the thrust. Kalo

immediately brought the staff around, twirling it

impressively, and swept the stunner tip toward Kirk's

body. Kirk executed a sideways parry, blocking it with

his own staff. The crowd roared in appreciation.

    Then the champion made a feint and suddenly

vaulted from his tower to Kirk's, landing right in front

of him. Startled, Kirk brought up his staff to block.

Kalo locked staffs with him, bearing him down. The

Patrian was astonishingly strong. The crowd shouted

encouragement as the champion tried to force Kirk

down. Their faces were only inches apart as Kirk

strained against his opponent's strength.

    "You are being lied to, human? Kalo said. "Can

you understand me?"

               101

  "What?" Kirk said, taken aback.

    Kalo suddenly swept his feet out from under him

and Kirk went down. Kalo raised his staff, stunner tip

aimed at Kirk, and brought it down. Kirk rolled out of

the way in the nick of time, coming close to the edge of

the tower. He quickly shifted his grip on his staff and

swung it hard, sweeping Kalo's feet out from under

him with the ball end. Kalo went down and the crowd

could not believe it. The champion had almost fallen!

Kirk quickly scrambled to his feet and launched

himself at Kalo.

    The champion got up to his knees and brought up

his staff to block Kirk's blow. Kirk pressed against his

staff, trying to keep him from rising. "What did you

say?"

    "I said, you are being lied to," Kalo replied. No one

could hear them above the roar of the crowd. Kirk

could barely hear what the champion was saying. "Do

not trust the police!"

    Kalo suddenly twisted his staff, hooking Kirk's and

throwing him off balance. Kirk staggered toward the

edge of the tower. Then he felt Kalo's mace strike him

in the back from behind. He grunted with the shock of

the impact. The champion had not pulled his blow.

Kirk found himself propelled toward the lip of the

tower. Instead of fighting the momentum, he used it

and leaped.

    He landed on the green tower, recovered, and

quickly turned to face the champion. Kalo was taking

this thing seriously! Or was he? The Patrian was

immensely strong, and it occurred to Kirk that he

probably could have struck much harder. He could

easily have knocked him right into the crowd. Instead

he had impelled him toward the other tower. And

102

what did he mean about being lied to and not trusting

the police?

    As Kalo swung at him again, Kirk blocked the blow

and struck one of his own. They stood near the edges

of their towers, striking and parrying, to the immense

enjoyment of the crowd, then Kalo vaulted to the

purple tower. Kirk leaped at the same time he did,

landing on the same tower and driving into him. They

both went down, falling dangerously close to the edge.

    "What do you mean, don't trust the police?" Kirk

asked. "Who are you? Are you with the rebels?"

    "You are being used!" Kalo said. "They are lying to

you about the energy weapons! The underground is

not to blame!"

    Kalo brought his knee up hard into Kirk's stomach.

The breath whooshed out of him as he doubled over,

and Kalo regained his feet. He came at Kirk again,

and Kirk just barely got his staff up in time to block

the blow.

    "Iano is a telepath!" Kalo said, his face inches from

his. "He can read your thoughts! Be careful!"

    "A telepath!" Kirk said. And then Kalo butted him

with his head. Kirk staggered back, and Kalo reached

out and caught him just as he was about to fall off the

tower into the crowd below. He pulled Kirk toward

him sharply.

    "We have no quarrel with the Federation," he said.

"You are our only hope!"

    "But what about the disruptors?" Kirk asked. He

drove his fist into Kalo's stomach. Kalo doubled over

and pulled Kirk down with him. They both went

down together.

     "We have no such weapons!" Kalo gasped as he

 struggled to catch his breath.

               103

  "And the Klingons?"

  "We have had no contact with them!"

    "How do I know you're telling me the truth?" Kirk

asked, breathing heavily.

  "How do you know that Iano is?"

      Kalo struck Kirk in the face and broke away from

him. They both came up to their feet.

  "We have to talk!" Kirk said.

  "Too dangerous," Kalo replied.

  "I can protect you!"

  "And who shall protect you?"

    Kalo feinted a jab, and when Kirk moved to block

it, he reversed his staff and lightly tapped Kirk on the

shoulder with its stunner tip. There was a crackling

discharge and Kirk cried out as the shock went

through him. Stunned, he dropped his staff and went

down to his knees, clutching his shoulder.

    Back at their table, the officers of the Enterprise

tensed as they saw their captain go down. Spock

noticed that Iano was staring at the two competitors

intently. Suddenly, he spun around, rose to his feet

quickly and, in one smooth motion, drew his weapon

and fired. There was a loud, popping report, followed

by a high-pitched whine as the projectile left the barrel

of Iano's massive pistol. A man near the bar cried out

as the shot took him in the chest, exploding and

throwing him backward. People immediately started

screaming and scrambling to get out of the way, in

case there should be any further shooting. Immediate-

ly, Iano turned back toward the arena, but Kalo was

nowhere in sight. Neither was Kirk.

    McCoy was the first to react. "My God!" he said,

and moved quickly to the side of the Patrian Iano had

               104

shot. He had not noticed that Kirk and Kalo had

disappeared from the towers, but Spock was already

out of his chair and running back toward the stairs

leading to the basement. He had paused only long

enough to tell Chekov to stay with McCoy, and then

he was moving fast. He plunged down the stairs,

unclipping his phaser from his belt as he pushed past

one of the attendants and ran toward the entrance to

the towers. Kirk was there, having his shoulder looked

at by an attendant. Kalo was nowhere in sight.

    "Captain!" Spock said with concern. "Are you all

right?"

    "I'm okay, Spock," Kirk replied. "I heard what

sounded like a shot, and then the hatch opened up

beneath me and I fell through. What happened?"

    "Lieutenant Iano shot someone by the bar," Spock

said. "Dr. McCoy is with him. What happened to Zor

Kalo?"

    "I don't know," Kirk said. "That was a pretty nasty

shock. I couldn't see straight for a moment or two,

and by the time I came around, Kalo was already

gone. I'll be all right, but we'd better get back up there

on the double."

    They hurried back to the lounge area, where McCoy

was crouching over the Patrian Iano had shot. He was

putting away his medical kit. It was obvious that there

was nothing he could do. The Patrian's chest was a

mass of blood. Eyes bulging, McCoy got up and

turned to Iano. "What did this man do?" McCoy

demanded with disbeliefi

    "Take it easy, Bones," Kirk said, taking McCoy by

the arm.

"Take it easy?" McCoy said. "Take it easy? He just

105

shot this man down in cold blood!" He glared at Iano.

"What kind of police officer are you? This man didn't

do anything!"

    "He was thinking about it, Doctor," Iano replied

flatly.

    McCoy simply stared at him with amazement.

"What?"

    Kirk alone understood Iano's reply, but he could

scarcely believe it. Turning to the Patrian lawman, he

repeated Iano's words, as if uncertain he had heard

them correctly. "He was thinking about it?"

    "That's right, Captain," Iano said. "He was think-

ing about committing murder."

    "Murder?" McCoy replied with astonishment.

"How could you possibly know that?"

    "Lieutenant Iano knew because he is a telepath,"

said Spock.

  "What?" McCoy said.

    Iano's gaze met Spock's. "Yes, that is correct, Mr.

Spock," he said. "As you had already surmised some

time ago."

 "You knew this?" Kirk asked him with surprise.

    "I was not completely certain, Captain," Spock

replied, "but I had strongly suspected it."

    "You mean... the Patrians are all telepaths?"

Chekov asked with astonishment.

    "No, Mr. Chekov," Iano replied. "Not all of us.

Only a few."

    "A few who comprise an elite force of telepathic law

enforcement agents," Spock said.

    "A deduction based on intuition, Mr. Spock?" lano

said.

    "Merely a logical inference, Lieutenant," Spock

replied. "I am correct, am I not?"

               106

 "Yes," Iano said. "You are correct."

    "Telepathic law enforcement agents?" McCoy said.

"Thought police?"

    "Telepath or no telepath, that doesn't give you the

right to act as judge, jury, and executioner," Kirk said

grimly.

    "Quite the contrary, Captain," Iano replied. "I

have precisely that right. The law specifically grants

me that authority."

    McCoy stared at Iano with disbelief. "You mean to

tell me the law here allows you to execute a man

simply because of what he's thinking?"

    "According to Pathan law," Iano said, "intent

constitutes transgression." He looked down at the

body. "This man intended to commit murder."

  "Whose murder?" Kirk demanded.

    "Mine," Iano replied as he bent over and removed a

pistol similar to his from the corpse's body. "I believe

this is what you would call 'acting in self-defense.'

What happened to Zor Kalo?"

 "I don't know," Kirk replied.

    Iano merely stared at him for a moment, then he

said, "No, I see you don't. I think that I had best take

you back to the legation. There is nothing more we

can accomplish here tonight."

 "I'd like some answers," Kirk said.

    "To what?" Iano asked. "To the ludicrous claims of

a fanatic? They are not worth discussing. The rebels

were more clever than we thought, Captain. They used

you for a distraction while they made an attempt on

my life. It was not the first, and it shall not be last. And

if I had died, then rest assured, you would have been

next."

107

Chapter Five

WHEN I^NO DROPPED KIRK and his officers back at the

legation, they found Secretary Wing and Ambassador

Jordan waiting for them. Having completed their

initial round of talks with the Pathan representatives,

they had arrived shortly before Kirk and the others

had returned. There were two other new arrivals as

well. Scotty had beamed down Yeoman Jacob and

Specialist Muir from the Enterprise to assist Kirk and

his party. The two had already settled in and had

started establishing working procedures with their

Patrian police liaisons, officers Jalo and Inal.

    Ambassador Jordan and Secretary Wing had waited

for them in the central suite that had been set up as a

conference room, anxious to learn how things had

gone. Kirk quickly filled him in, but when he told

them about what had happened at the Arena Club and

108

Iano being telepathic, they merely nodded, as if the

information wasn't new to them at all.

    "Yes, we rather were concerned about how you

would respond if you discovered that," Jordan said.

    "You mean to tell me you knew about this?" Kirk

said with astonishment.

    "How could you have known and not told us?"

McCoy asked with disbelief.

    "I don't appreciate being assigned to work with

someone who can read my mind and not being told

about it," Kirk said tensely.

    "No doubt, Jim, that was the entire idea," Jordan

replied. "We were only advised of it after the fact."

    "After the fact?" Kirk repeated with a puzzled

frown.

    Secretary Wing sat down on the sofa and pulled her

legs up beneath her. "In other words, Captain, it

seems the Patrians purposely failed to inform us

about the telepaths. We did not learn about them until

only a short while ago, after you had already gone out

with Lieutenant Iano. Otherwise, you would have

been briefed, of course."

    She had changed into a dark blue, embroidered silk

lounging gown. It was simple and comfortable-

looking, but at the same time, it draped very flatter-

ingly on her figure and gave her a soft, attractively

graceful, and very feminine look. When she sat down

and drew her legs up, exposing them, Kirk caught

himself staring. She had very lovely legs. He looked

away for a moment and cleared his throat.

    "Forgive me, I did not mean that remark to sound

like an accusation," he said.

"Oh, I think you did, Jim, but that's all right,"

109

Jordan said. "I would have been equally upset if I

were in your position. In fact, I'm not so sure I'm

not."

    Yeoman Jacob came in with a tray holding a steam-

ing pot and several cups. "Your coffee, Ambassador,"

she said.

    Jordan smiled. "Thank you, Yeoman. That smells

delicious."

    "They've got coffee?" McCoy asked, momentarily

distracted.

    "Oh, no, sir," Yeoman Jacob said. "Mr. Scott had

us bring along a 'care package' from the Enterprise

when we beamed down."

    "Be sure to thank Mr. Scott for me," Jordan said.

"That was very considerate of him."

    Kirk made a mental note to thank Scotty for being

on the ball. He should have thought of that himself,

but his mind had been too preoccupied with other

things to think about supplying the landing party with

some creature comforts. And right now it would take a

great deal more than a "care package" from the

Enterprise to make him feel comfortable in his current

situation.

    "Please, gentlemen," Jordan said, "would you care

for some coffee?"

    "No, thanks," Kirk said, his thoughts turning back

to the Patrian policeman.

    "I could use a cup," McCoy said gratefully. "It's

been one hell of a rough night."

    Yeoman Jacob poured for McCoy and Chekov.

Spock declined politely, and Secretary Wing shook

her head and sighed.

    "Actually, I could do with something a bit strong-

er," she said wistfully.

11o

    "We brought along some of that as well, ma'am,"

Specialist Muir said, coming in with a tray holding a

carafe of Rigellian brandy and some glasses.

    "Well done, crewman," she said with a smile. "I

was afraid I was going to have to beg some of Anjor's

whiskey from the captain."

    Spock turned to Jordan with a thoughtful look. "A

moment ago, Ambassador, you implied that you

might be in the same position as we are. Do you have

reason to suspect the Patdans have telepaths taking

part in the negotiations?"

    Jordan looked up at him over the rim of his coffee

cup. "Under the circumstances, Mr. Spock, it would

be rather naive of me not to consider that possibility,

wouldn't you agree?"

 "Indeed," Spock replied, raising an eyebrow.

    "So you think the Patrians are reading your mind

during the negotiations?" Kirk asked him.

    "I've had no indications of it, but I think it's

certainly possible," Jordan replied. "I have no way of

knowing which of the Patrians are telepathic--

apparently only a few of them are, at least judging by

what I've been told--but put yourself in their place. If

you had an advantage like that, wouldn't you use it?"

  "Yes, I see your point," Kirk said.

    "Well, one thing's for sure," McCoy said with a

grimace. "They don't seem to have any reluctance to

use it to their advantage. We saw Lieutenant Iano

shoot a man down tonight as calmly as you please...

because he was thinking about committing a crime!"

    "He did have a weapon on him, Doctor," Spock

pointed out.

    "That's not the point," McCoy replied gruffly. "All

right, maybe it was justified, I don't know, but the

               111

point is they actually have a law here that says

thinking about committing a crime is tantamount to

committing that crime!"

    "It's called 'Transgression by Intent,'" Specialist

Muir said.

    Kirk turned around to face the young crewman.

"That's right," he said. "What do you know about it,

Mr. Muir?"

    "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to speak out of

turn..."

  "No, no, go on," Kirk prompted him.

    "Well, we learned about it from our two liaisons,

Jalo and Inal," Muir explained. "And I got the

impression they're not exactly comfortable around

the telepaths either. They like to keep their distance."

    "You mean, they are not telepaths themselves?"

Chekov asked.

      "No, sir," Muir said. "Only special volunteers are

selected for the Mindcrime Unit."  "Mindcrime Unit?" Kirk said.

    "Yes, sir. That's what it's called," Muir went on.

"It's a sort of elite police division."

    "What do you mean, only 'special volunteers' are

selected?" Kirk asked with a frown.

      "Well, the telepaths are not born that way, sir,"

Muir replied. "They're surgically created."

  "What?" McCoy said.

    "Are you quite certain about this, Mr. Muir?"

Jordan asked. "There's no chance that you misunder-

stood?"

    "No, sir. I'm sorry, but I... I thought you knew all

this," Muir said, looking a bit confused.

    "Apparently, Mr. Muir, you and Yeoman Jacob

have succeeded in learning a great deal more about

112

this subject than any of us," Kirk said. "Perhaps you'd

be so kind as to enlighten us further."

    Muir glanced at Kirk, then at Yeoman Jacob. "Yes,

sir, of course. Well, we sort of had some time on our

hands after we beamed down..." he began. "I mean,

we did have work to do, of course, but--"

    "Andy... that is, Mr. Muir was able to figure out

their computer systems fairly quickly," Yeoman Jacob

said. "It really took him no time at all."

    "Well... they're not really very complicated,"

Muir said with a shrug. "Their systems are fairly

primitive compared to ours, and with Officer Jalo

briefing me, it didn't take very long."

 "He's being modest," Yeoman Jacob said.

    Kirk caught the look that passed between Muir and

the pretty, brunette yeoman and smiled to himself.

"Get to the point," he said.

    "Yes, sir," Muir said. "We really didn't have a lot to

do after that other than stand by and wait for you to

get back and issue further orders, so we started getting

to know our liaisons a little better. Officers Jalo and

Inal have been assigned to duty at the legation full-

time, and they were just as interested in getting to

know us."

    "We talked about a lot of things," Yeoman Jacob

said. "What it's like to serve in Starfleet, what it's like

to work for the Patrian police... We wound up

comparing our jobs and various aspects of our duties,

and that's when we found out about the Mindcrime

Unit."

    "The way they explained it to us, the whole thing

started out by accident," Muir said. "Their doctors

had come up with some kind of new surgical proce-

dure to treat certain types of brain damage caused by

               ~13

trauma. It turned out to be only partially successful,

but a side effect was that the patients who'd had the

surgery developed telepathic abilities."

    "They continued doing research on it," Yeoman

Jacob added, "and eventually someone came up with

the idea of using the procedure to create an elite law

enforcement unit that could deal with the increasing

violence in their society."

    "The members of the Mindcrime Unit have more

official powers than the regular police," Muir said,

"and more discretion in choosing how to use them.

They've been given special authority to act on intelli-

gence they pick up telepathically."

    "Yes, tonight we saw a demonstration of just how

that 'special authority' works," McCoy said grimly. "I

still can't believe it. What kind of society would allow

such a thing?"

    "It's not up to us to answer questions like that,

Doctor," Jordan said, "or ask them, for that matter."

    "Well, exactly what is it that we're doing here,

then?" McCoy replied. "I thought the whole purpose

of this mission was to decide if the Patrians were going

to join the Federation. Isn't that what these negotia-

tions are all about? We're judging them and they're

judging us. What kind of government allows a law like

that? How do we deal with a society that permits its

citizens to be found guilty of crimes simply because of

what they think? Is this the kind of world we want in

the Federation?"

    Jordan gave him a pained look. "Doctor, whatever

we may think as individuals about this law of Trans-

gression by Intent, the fact is the Patrians are entitled

to pass whatever legislation they wish. There are a

number of planets in the Federation with laws that

114

might strike us as repressive if they were passed in our

society, but the point is that each society is different,

and we cannot judge them all by our own standards.

As a Starfleet officer, you should understand that. The

Federation doesn't interfere with internal matters on

its member worlds, and this is a Patrian internal

matter. As such, it does not concern us."

    "I don't disagree in principle," Kirk said, "but

when somebody's reading my mind without my con-

sent, it concerns me very much indeed."  "Amen to that!" McCoy said.

    "I must say I agree," Chekov said. "There was,

unfortunately, a time in my own country's history

when a man could be found guilty for what he

believed, but at least he had the freedom to think as he

wished, whether he could act upon those thoughts or

not."

    "Precisely," McCoy said. "That's the core of the

issue here, whether someone acts on their thoughts or

not. How many times have you ever gotten mad at

someone and thought you'd like to kill them? I'm sure

it's happened to all of us at one time or another. You

say or think something like that, it doesn't mean

you're actually going to kill somebody, does it? It's

just a way of coping, of venting anger and frustration.

Only here, thinking something like that could get you

tried, convicted, and executed... all by just one

individual."

    "So what is it you expect me to do, Doctor?" Jordan

asked irately. "You want me to go to these people

tomorrow and tell them their law is wrong and must

be changed? Should we demand that they disband the

Mindcrime Unit? Should we insist they discontinue

the surgical procedures that create their telepaths?

               115

Condemn their standards of morality and impose our

own standards on them? Because that is what your

argument amounts to, isn't it?"

    "He's right, Bones," Kirk said, turning to McCoy.

"We're all still keyed up over what happened tonight.

Except for Spock here, who isn't troubled by emotion-

al reactions. For a change, I envy him. I think we just

need to cool down a bit."

    Secretary Wing had listened to their exchange with

interest. She turned to Spock. "Mr. Spock, you've

voiced no opinion on this matter. Given the fact that

Vulcans are capable of telepathy, how do you feel

about working with someone who can read your

mind?"

    "If that were the case, then I must admit that I

would have certain reservations," Spock said.

    "If that were the case?" she said, leaning forward.

"You mean... it doesn't work on you?"

    "It's that incredible Vulcan mental discipline,"

McCoy said dryly. "He's shielding. So that's why Iano

kept looking at him funny all night. He couldn't read

him!"

    "I think it is a new experience for him, and he does

not seem to know what to make of the situation,"

Spock said with classic understatement. "I suspect

that, as a result of not being able to read my mind,

Lieutenant Iano does not trust me."

    "It's probably driving him right up the wall,"

McCoy said with a grin.

    "Much as Iano's telepathy seems to be affecting us,"

Kirk said wryly. "Obviously, with the exception of

Mr. Spock, there's little if anything that we can do to

conceal our thoughts from him. However, what we

think is one thing. How we act is what matters."

116

  "Maybe not here," McCoy said.

     "If this duty is objectionable to you, Dr. McCoy, I

 could ask Captain Kirk to relieve you of this assign-

 ment," Jordan said.

    "Then you'd have to relieve the whole damn land-

ing party, with the exception of Spock here," McCoy

replied irritably. "I'm not experiencing anything the

rest of them aren't going through. No, thank you,

Ambassador. As long as I'm here, I'll stick. I don't

have to like it, though."

    "Bones, take it easy," Kirk said, trying to calm him.

McCoy was a dedicated physician, and he always took

it hard when someone died and he could do nothing to

prevent it. "I can understand how you feel. I don't like

it very much myself. However, my own views--or

yours--are not the issue here. The ambassador's

right. This is a Patrian internal matter."

    "And we must convince them to join the Federation

because the alternative is even more immoral and

reprehensible," Secretary Wing added. "We cannot

turn our backs on the Patrians and leave them to the

tender mercies of the Klingons merely because their

sense of morality offends us."

    "Precisely," Jordan said. "They do not yet fully

understand what it would be mean to be conquered by

the Klingons. We must try to make them understand.

They must be brought into the Federation, for their

own good."

    "For their own good, or because it represents a

feather in your cap as a Federation diplomat?"

McCoy said.

    "Bones! That's enough!" Kirk said, afraid that

McCoy may have gone too far.

               117

"Really, Dr. McCoy, you forget yourself," Jordan

said.

    "I think we all need to examine our thoughts and

feelings here," Kirk said quickly, before McCoy could

snap back at Jordan. "I think we need to consider

them very carefully, because we're not going to be able

to hide them from the Pathans. At least, not from the

telepaths among them. We know Lieutenant Iano is a

member of the Mindcrime Unit, but we have no way

of knowing who else may be."

    "Indeed," Jordan said uneasily. "I have to proceed

on the assumption that there is at least one telepath

taking part in the negotiations. And it's quite possible

--even probable--there may be others with whom we

shall come in contact on this mission who will not

inform us up front as to who and what they are."

    "My God, Scotty!" Kirk said suddenly. "He doesn't

know anything about this! I've got to brief him on the

situation. The Enterprise is going to be patrolling this

sector for any vessels that might be smuggling Klingon

ordnance. Our people are going to be working closely

with Commander Anjor and his crew, as well as other

ships in the Patrian fleet. If they're going to be

boarding incoming vessels together to check on their

cargo, they may well have a telepath or two among

them."

    "Yes, I'd be rather surprised if they didn't," Jordan

replied, nodding in agreement.

    "Just one thing, Captain," Secretary Wing said.

"Make certain your people understand that if they

encounter a Patrian telepath, chances are they proba-

bly won't know it, and unless they have the mental

discipline of a Vulcan"wshe glanced at Spock and

smiled--"there's nothing they can do to prevent their

118

thoughts from being read. They'll simply have to

accept it. I know that's not going to be easy, but this

situation is stressful enough as it is. We don't want to

add to it by having everyone aboard the Enterprise

trying to control what they're thinking all the time."

    "Hell, if they all tried to do that, I'd have people

piled up in sickbay with nervous breakdowns inside of

a week," McCoy said.

    "But the vast majority of the Patrians aren't

telepaths, if I understand correctly," Kirk said. "I

wonder how they cope with it?"

  "Sir?" said the young communications specialist.

  "Yes, Mr. Muir?"

    "It just so happens that I asked Officer Jalo that

same question earlier this evening."

    "Really? And what did you find out?" Kirk asked,

curious.

    "Well, they don't, sir," Muir replied. "Cope with it,

that is. At least, not very well, from what I understand.

According to Jalo, the 'thought police,' as the people

here refer to them, are very controversial. They're a

relatively recent development."  "How recent?" Kirk asked.

    "The translator rendered what he said as 'about ten

years,' but then I'm not really sure how long a Patrian

year is," Muir replied. "They only have their local

dating system, and they're unfamiliar with the Federa-

tion Stardate Standard. In any case, Jalo's fairly

young, and it all came about during his lifetime, so it's

not as if several generations have grown up with the

telepaths or with the law of Transgression by Intent.

It's apparently caused a certain amount of culture

shock. Most of the officers on the Mindcrime Unit go

uniformed, like Lieutenant Iano, and they've got their

119

own distinctive insignia, so they're pretty easy to spot.

But if they're in civilian clothes, there's no way of

telling who they are. They look just like anybody else.

Jalo said it tends to make people a little paranoid."

  "Just a little?" McCoy said.

    "Well, that was how Jalo put it, sir," Yeoman Jacob

replied. "As if he were purposely trying to downplay

the whole thing. We sort of got the feeling that the

more he talked about it, the more uncomfortable he

became."

 "Big Brother is watching," Chekov said.

    "Yes, exactly," Kirk replied. "I can imagine how the

average citizen must feel about the telepaths if even

their fellow police officers aren't comfortable around

them. It sounds to me as if these people have created a

serious problem for themselves."

    "It almost makes me wonder if our sympathies

shouldn't lie with the rebels," McCoy said ironically.

    "I wouldn't say that too loudly if I were you,

Doctor," Ambassador Jordan cautioned him. "In fact,

I wouldn't even think it."

    "I want Scotty to know about this before anything

else happens," Kirk said. "He doesn't like surprises,

and for that matter, neither do I." He reached for his

communicator.

    Jordan got up and excused himself. "Well, it's

getting late," he said, "and I could use some sleep.

We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

    "I think we could all do with some rest," Kirk said,

nodding to the others.

    "I'm sure this whole thing will get sorted out,"

Jordan said. "You have my complete confidence, Jim.

Good night."

 The others also said good night and left for their

               120

respective quarters. Outside in the corridor, Secretary

Wing caught up to McCoy. "Can I have word with

you, Doctor?" she said.

    "Of course," McCoy said. 'Tll walk you to your

room."

    "You really think we're wrong about this, don't

you?" she said.

    "Well, I don't know that I'd use the word 'wrong,'

exactly," McCoy replied as they headed for the lift

leading to her floor. "I just wonder if we're losing our

perspective."

  "What makes you think we are?" she asked.

    "I didn't say I was sure," McCoy replied. He paused

briefly, considering his words. "You see, I know

something of your background, Secretary Wing--"

  "Must we be so formal? My name is Kim."

  McCoy smiled. "Leonard," he said.

    "Yes, I know. You were saying, Leonard... about

my background."

  They got into the lift.

    "Your father was one of the foremost advocates of

human rights in his generation," McCoy said, "and

your mother's record in fighting for equal rights under

the law, regardless of race, creed, or species, is unsur-

passed. I guess I just find it a little hard to believe that

the daughter of Dr. Kam Sung Wing and Dr. Anna

Stanford Anderson isn't absolutely outraged by what's

happening here."

    She sighed. "I didn't say I wasn't. But it's not my

place to judge. We have to get the Patrian Republics

into the Federation, so that we can extend our protec-

tion to them. They don't fully understand the threat

they're facing. They've asked for our help, because

they've been confronted with a type of weapon that's

               121

more advanced than anything they've ever seen be-

fore, but they're still being very cautious. Too cau-

tious. They have absolutely no idea what the full

might of the Klingon war machine can do. We have to

make them see that joining us would be in their best

interests. That's our mission, Leonard, and it must

succeed. Everything else simply has to come in sec-

ond."

    "Well, you have your job to do," McCoy said as the

lift stopped and they got off. "And it's our job to

support you." He shook his head. "Lord knows, I'd be

the last one to want to see these people conquered by

the Klingons, but at the same time, sometimes I can't

help but wonder if we don't take our policy of

noninterference a bit too far. Would it be so terrible if

we tried to exert a little beneficial influence? I don't

know. Maybe it would be. I'm a doctor, not a diplo-

mat. I suppose it doesn't really matter what I think."

    "It matters to me," she said as they stopped in front

of the door to her suite.

 McCoy shrugged. "Why should it?"

    "Don't sell yourself so short, Leonard," she replied.

"You're an honest, intelligent, caring, and compas-

sionate man who's not afraid to show his feelings or

speak his mind. And there aren't many men like that

around."

    McCoy smiled. "You know, Kim, you really ought

to be careful about saying things like that. If I didn't

know better, I might be tempted to think you were

making a pass at me."

    She opened the door to her suite, then gazed

directly into his eyes. "Be tempted," she said softly.

               122

  "Telepaths?" Scott said.

     "That's not the half of it, Scotty," Kirk replied,

 speaking into his communicator. He quickly ran

 down the situation for his chief engineer.

     "And we're supposed to be protecting these people

 from the Klingons?" Scott said when Kirk had

 brought him up to date.

    Kirk grimaced wryly. "It does seem rather ironic,

doesn't it? The Mindcrime Unit makes the Gestapo,

the KGB, and the CIA look tame by comparison. And

they're just getting started. They're on the way to

building the ultimate police state, where even your

thoughts are monitored."

    "Did the ambassador know about this all along?"

asked Scott.

    "Apparently not," Kirk replied. "It seems to have

been as much of a surprise to him as it was to us.

However, this new development does not really alter

the mission. Whatever we may think of the Patrian

law of Transgression by Intent, and the manner in

which they choose to enforce it, we still have to

uphold the Prime Directive."

    "Aye," Scotty said. "But I don't know that I could

stand by and watch a man convicted just for thinking

something."

    "That's just what I wanted to talk to you about,

Scotty," Kirk said heavily. "There's a good chance

something like that might come up."

  "I'm not sure I follow you, Cap'n."

    "Look, Scotty, we've become caught up in this...

this situation... where we've joined forces with the

Patrians in an effort to stop the flow of Klingon

weapons to their rebel terrorists. So far as that goes,

               123

we're just upholding the Prime Directive, trying to

restore balance to an alien society that's been inter-

fered with. But that's where things get a little sticky.

We're in ParrJan space, and we're technically under

Patrian law. That means there's a chance you may be

called upon to do something that under ordinary

circumstances you would never consider doing."

"Just what is it that you're tellin' me, Cap'n?"

"I'm saying it's possible that you could be con-

fronted with a situation where you may be called upon

to make a response based not on actions you observe,

but on intent reported to you by a Pattiart telepath."

    "Well now, how in the hellmbeggin' your pardon,

sir--am I supposed to do that?"

    "With any luck, Scotty, you won't have to," Kirk

replied. "But while I'm away from the ship, you may

find yourself having to make just such a decision.

Remember that under Patrian law, intent constitutes

transgression. And information gained by telepathy

constitutes hard evidence."

    "With all due respect, Cap'n, that's about the

craziest thing I've ever heard," Scott said.

    Kirk took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "I

can't say I disagree with you, Mr. Scott. But on Patria

it's the law. And so long as we're in Patrian territory,

working on a joint mission, we're going to have to

abide by it."

 "Aye, sir," Scott said with resignation.

    "Just do the best you can, Scotty," Kirk said.

"We're all playing this by ear. Kirk out."

    He closed his communicator and walked over to the

large bay window looking out over the city. Thought

crime. It was an unsettling concept. He thought about

the rebel, Kalo. A champion, very highly visible. How

124

had he avoided detection by Iano and the other

members of the Mindcrime Unit? Was it the crowd he

was surrounded by? But then, Iano had picked up

thoughts of an attempt on his life in the middle of that

crowd. Why hadn't he detected Kalo? Perhaps it was a

question of proximity. What was the range of a

Patrian telepath? And what about what Kalo had told

him? Iano had dismissed his claims as "ludicrous."

But were they?

    This whole thing had started out as nothing more

than a diplomatic support mission, Kirk thought, and

now it had turned into a full-scale intervention,

thanks to covert action by the Klingons. And Bob

Jordan wasn't being much help at all. He was focused

only on his negotiations, and Jordan seemed perfectly

content to let him handle the problem of the disrup-

tors, Iano, the rebels, all of it. Under ordinary circum-

stances, Kirk would have been the last one to

complain about a Federation diplomat simply getting

out of his way and letting him do what he did best. So

why did he have this nasty feeling that his old Acade-

my roommate was carefully setting him up as the fall

guy in case anything went wrong?

    "Captain Kirk!" Officer Inal said, rushing into the

conference room, out of breath. "We have just re-

ceived an urgent message from Lieutenant Iano.

There is a rebel attack in progress. They are using

disruptors. And this time, they have taken hostages."

125

Chapter Six

"STATUS REPORT, MR. CHEKOV," Kirk said, looking out

over the city anxiously.

    "Lieutenant Iano should be arriving momentarily,

Captain," Chekov replied. "Officer Jalo is in commu-

nication with him, and Officer Inal is currently moni-

toring the reports of the situation in progress. It began

approximately an hour ago, when rebels seized con-

trol of a government office building in the central

section of the city. It has been confirmed that the

rebels have taken hostages. It has also been confirmed

that they are armed with disruptors."

    "Where the hell's McCoy? And where are Muir and

Jacob?" Kirk asked impatiently.

    At the very moment Muir and Jacob both came

racing out onto the roof pad. "Dr. McCoy's not in his

room, sir," Muir said. "He's not in any of the other

vacant suites either."

126

    "Perhaps he went down to take a walk in the

garden," Spock said. "He seemed a bit agitated ear-

lier."

    "Jalo said he'd have security look for him," Muir

said.

    "Here comes Iano," Kirk said as the police flier

came in for a landing.

  "What about Dr. McCoy?" Chekov asked.

    "He should be safe enough on the building

grounds," Kirk replied. "We can't waste any time

looking for him now." Iano's flier landed.

  "All right, let's go," Kirk said.

    They hurried out onto the landing pad, where Iano

was waiting for them with his engines running. They

piled into the vehicle and Iano took off immediately,

swooping out away from the side of the building and

gathering speed in a power dive, the police warning

lights on the outside of the flier strobing brightly.

    "My apologies, Captain Kirk," Iano said as he

piloted the flier. "It seems you are not destined to get

any sleep tonight."

    "I've had sleepless nights before," Kirk replied.

"What's the current situation?"

    "A small assault force of rebels has seized the

administrative offices of the Patrian Council," Iano

said. "Fortunately, the Council was not in session.

They had broken up a late meeting only a half hour

earlier. The rebels must have hoped to strike while the

Council was still meeting. Luckily, their timing was

off. Unfortunately, there were administrative person-

nel still present in the building, working late preparing

the reports and minutes of the meeting and perform-

ing various other duties. We do not yet know the exact

127

number of hostages. It has been estimated at between

twenty and thirty."

"As many as that!" Kirk said with concern.

"Some of the administrative personnel in the build-

ing apparently finished their work and left only mo-

ments before the assault took place," Iano said. "Most

of them have not yet reached their homes, so they

have no way of knowing what has happened, and we

have no way of getting in touch with them as yet.

Others managed to escape during the initial stages of

the assault. That was when most of the deaths oc-

curred. We have not yet had the time to sort out

exactly who was killed. The rebels have their disrup-

tors set to disintegrate, which means there are no

bodies left to identify."

    "Do you know how many people you're facing?"

Kirk asked.

    "At least ten or twelve," Iano said, "according to

reports from eyewitnesses."

    "And they're all armed with disruptors?" Kirk

asked.

  "It would seem so," Iano replied.

    Kirk compressed his lips into a tight grimace. "That

doesn't sound like a very promising situation. Have

they made any demands yet?" "No, not yet," Iano replied.

 "And what steps have you taken so far?"

    "We've taken whatever steps we could to contain

the situation," Iano said. "Fortunately, there are no

residential buildings in that area of the city. The

building the rebels have occupied has been cordoned

off, and all of the surrounding buildings have been

evacuated. We have cleared the area around the site

within a radius of one city block. Due to the lateness

               128

of the hour, there were not many people still working

in the area, so fortunately, we were able to accomplish

our task fairly quickly. At present we have armed

police fliers circling the area and at least a dozen units

on the ground, with more on their way. None of our

weapons are any match for the disruptors, however.

For the time being, we are merely trying to keep things

from escalating."

    "Is this a normal tactic for the rebels?" Spock

asked.

    Iano gave him a quick glance. "What do you

mean?"

    "From what you have told us before, Lieutenant,"

Spock said, "I was under the impression that the

rebels have employed primarily explosives and guer-

rilla tactics, what is known as the 'hit-and-run as-

sault.' However, this situation seems markedly

different. Have the rebels ever been known to take

hostages before?"

    "No," Iano said. "This is the first time." He

frowned. "Why? What inference do you draw from

that?"

    "When a pattern of observed behavior suddenly

changes with no apparent explanation," Spock said,

"it is often helpful to examine if any of the conditions

present have changed as well. In this case, the most

obvious change is our arrival on Patria One."

    "You think they were expecting us, Spock?" Kirk

asked.

    "It would seem logical, under the circumstances,"

Spock replied. "They have taken hostages, but as yet

have made no demands. In most similar cases, once

hostages have been secured, demands follow almost

immediately, as that was the entire purpose of taking

129

hostages in the first place. However, if no demands

have been made, and none seem to be forthcoming,

then one must ask, what is the purpose of the hos-

tages?"

    "To use as pressure against us," Kirk said, following

Spock's logical train of thought. "Of course. They

don't know how well their new weapons will stack up

against ours, so they're trying to find out. And at the

same time, they're hedging their bets by taking hos-

tages."

    "So they can use the hostages to make us back off in

the event our weapons prove superior," Chekov

added.

  "Precisely," Spock said.

    "It fits," Kirk said, nodding in agreement. "It fits all

too well." He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. Maybe we

can make some headway in negotiating with them."

    "That is not our policy," Iano said. "Our primary

concern is to neutralize the threat they pose to others

at this time. We do not negotiate with rebels. If taking

hostages means they can force us into a position

where we must negotiate, then it shall encourage them

to continue doing so. We cannot allow that. If that

means we must sacrifice the hostages, so be it."

    "I'm not ready to accept that," Kirk replied.

"There's got to be another way."

    "There is only one way to deal with rebels," Iano

said.

    "Your superiors asked for our help and placed me in

charge," Kirk said. "I have no intention of charging in

there with phasers blasting and getting all of the

hostages killed."

 "Our primary concern--"

130

    "Is to deal with the threat posed by the rebels, yes,

yes, I know," Kirk said impatiently. "But my primary

concern is not to get anyone else killed, if I can help it.

If there's a chance that we can negotiate with these

people--"

    Iano gave a snorting bark. "You would be wasting

your time. They are fanatics, prepared to die for their

mad cause. They would agree to anything merely to

bring you within range of their weapons, and then

they would shoot you down without the slightest

hesitation."

    "Has anyone ever attempted to reason with them?"

Spock said.

    "If you wish to make the effort, Mr. Spock, then you

can be my guest," Iano said. "I would not give great

odds for your chances of survival, but if your life is of

so little value to you, then who am I to dissuade you

from throwing it away?"

    "I did not mean to imply that I considered my life

of little value," Spock said. "However, neither do I

place little value on the lives of the hostages. The lives

of the rebels also have value, if for no other reason

than the fact that questioning them may produce

information regarding how they are receiving their

disruptors."

    "I must admit that I am curious to see how Federa-

tion Starfleet officers would handle such a situation,"

Iano said. "However, if your efforts prove unsuccess-

ful, then I see no alternative to an assault upon the

building. And, assuming you have survived your

failure, I will request that you participate in the

assault with your phaser weapons." "Fair enough," Kirk said.

 The flier swooped down low over the streets, level-

               131

 ing off as it flew between the buildings. Within mo-

 ments they could see the police blockades thrown up

 in the street and the crowds gathered behind them.

 Iano hit his forward thrusters and slowed, hovering

 low above the street, then set down where the police

 had set up a protected command post on a diagonal

 across the street from the occupied building.

    The crowds were being kept well back, so that there

were no civilians anywhere within line of sight from

the windows of the occupied building. The police,

however, were within range of the rebel's weapons,

and every once in a while the rebels would open up

with a disruptor blast or two aimed at the police

positions.

    Iano conferred quickly with several of his officers

on the scene, then came back to the men of the

Enterprise. "We've had more casualties," he said

grimly.

  "The hostages?" Kirk asked with concern.

    "No, not so far as we know. But some of our officers

have been killed by disruptor fire from the building.

Apparently, they had underestimated the range of the

weapons."

    Even as Iano spoke, several more disruptor blasts

came from the occupied building, aimed at police

positions. One of the blasts struck a police flier and

the vehicle exploded in a ball of fire, the fuel tanks

igniting almost instantaneously, before the disruptor

blast could disintegrate the vehicle. A number of

officers on the Patrian suicide squads bravely swooped

in toward the building on their rocket sleds in an

attempt to get off some shots through the windows of

the upper stories, but the rebels simply switched their

disruptors to wide dispersal beam and vaporized

               132

them in mid-flight. Half a dozen of the sleds exploded

into fireballs in seconds, and the remaining charred

debris rained down onto the street.

    "Get those people back now!" Kirk said. "If the

rebels can see them, they can hit them. Is there any

way we can communicate with the people on the

inside?"

    "There should be comscreens in the offices where

they have taken up position," Iano said. "We can try

calling them, but I do not know if they'll respond."

  "Do it," Kirk said.

    "Very well. I will have a portable cornscreen

brought up," Iano said. "But if you ask me, you're

wasting your time."

 "I didn't ask you," Kirk replied. "Mr. Muir..."

 "Sir!"

    "I want an in-line universal translator hookup to

that cornscreen. I don't want to waste time with

interpreters. I want to be able to talk to these people

directly."

 "Yes, sir. I'll get on it right away."

     Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to

Enterprise. Come in, Scotty." "Scott here, Cap'm"

    "Mr. Scott, we've got a hostage situation here. I

want you to get a fix on our position. There's a tall

building directly to the northeast of where I'm stand-

ing, approximately sixty or seventy yards away. Have

you got it?"

    "I'm scanning a number of tall buildings in that

immediate area, Cap'n," Scott replied. "Can you be a

bit more specific?"

    "This will be the only building within a one-city-

block radius that will have any life-form readings

               133

 inside it," Kirk replied. "All the other buildings in the

 area have been evacuated."

  "Aye, sir, I've got it," Scott replied after a moment.

     "How many life-forms are you reading, Mr. Scott?"

 Kirk asked.

    "There's a bunch of 'era, sir... about forty or fifty

maybe .... It's difficult to tell. There's a lot of'era all

clustered together .... "

    "Those'11 be the hostages," Kirk said. "What about

the others?"

    "I'm showing the rest spread out in the general area,

all on the same floor, I'd say, judging by the elevation.

No, wait... I'm reading six on the ground floor, near

the building entrance."

    "Those will be rebels, covering the entrance from

the street," Kirk said. "Lock in those coordinates, Mr.

Scott. We're going to beam those people out of there."

    "Cap'n, most of'era are pretty close," Scott said. "I

don't think we can separate the hostages from the

people holdin' 'era. The life-form readings are all

similar."

    "I know that, Scotty," Kirk said. "We're going to

grab them all. Have two security teams assemble in

the transporter room, phasers set on stun. They're to

take out anyone who's holding a weapon. These

people have never experienced transporter technology

before. They're bound to be a bit disoriented when

they're beamed up, but have security take no chances.

I'd rather stun a hostage than risk losing anybody."

  "Aye, sir. Stand by," Scott said.

    "I'll have the cornscreen hookup ready for you in a

moment, Captain," Muir said.

    "Very good, Mr. Muir," Kirk said. "Come on,

Scotty..."

134

  "Enterprise to Captain Kirk..."

 "Go ahead, Scotty."

    "Sir, we've got a problem," Scott said. "I canna' get

the transporter to lock on."

 "What do you mean? Why not?"

    "Cap'n, I can scan the life-form readings, but I'm

unable to lock onto them. There's something throwing

off the transporter signals. Judging by the readings I'm

picking, I'd say they've got an interference generator

set up down there."

    "Damn/" Kirk said through gritted teeth as he

lowered his communicator.

"More Klingon technology, I take it?" Iano said.

"Need you ask?" Kirk said in a frustrated tone.

"They expected us to try something like this.

Somebody's briefed them on how transporters work,

and given them an interference generator to prevent

us from beaming out the hostages. I don't think we

need any more proof about who's behind the rebels

now. They've already demonstrated that the police

are no match for their disruptors. Now they intend to

prove that the Federation can't stop them either. But

I'm not beat yet. Not by a long shot." He raised his

communicator once again. "Scotty, keep that security

team standing by. I'll need half a dozen portable

deuterium blast shields and a deflector grid. You got

that?"

  "Aye, Cap'n, I've got it. Stand by..."

    "I perceive what you're planning, Kirk," Iano said.

"It's a bold plan, but it could be quite dangerous."

    "If you can read my mind, Iano, then you already

know I'm well aware of that," Kirk said dryly.

    "You are offended that I can read your thoughts,"

Iano said.

135

     "Not that you can, but that you do, and without my

 permission," Kirk said. "If you'd be so kind as to stay

 out of my head, Lieutenant, I would certainly appreci-

 ate it."

  "I have a job to do, Captain," Iano said.

    "So do I," Kirk replied. "And you're not making it

any easier."

    "What have you to fear from my knowing your

thoughts, if you have nothing to hide?" Iano asked.

    "That's a very old argument, Lieutenant," Kirk

replied. "In the past, it's been used as a justification

for every sort of abuse of power. If you're truly

innocent, then what do you have to fear from an

illegal search? If you have nothing to hide, then why

object to being summarily detained and questioned?

If you're not guilty, then why refuse to testify? It's the

kind of crippled logic that leads to fascism and

to..." He did not complete the sentence, but Iano

got the thought.

    "And to people like me," Iano said flatly. "That is

what you were about to say, isn't it?"

    "That's right, Iano," Kirk admitted. "I thought

about saying it, but I chose not to. There is a differ-

ence."

    "I'm curious, Kirk," Iano said. "If you had my

ability, would you refrain from using it?"

    "I'd like to think that if I had your ability, I

wouldn't use it indiscriminately," Kirk replied. "I'd

like to think that I would respect other people's rights,

especially their right to privacy."

    "I see," Iano said. "And who, I wonder, is to

determine exactly what those rights are? The Federa-

tion council? Or perhaps the Patrian Council, deter-

mining the question of Patrian rights for Patrians?"

               136

  Before Kirk could respond, Scott came back on.

    "I'm transporting those items you requested right

now, Cap'm"

 "Very good, Mr. Scott," Kirk said.

    A moment later the blast shields and the portable

deflector grid appeared on the street behind them.

    "All right, we've got the shipment, Scotty," Kirk

said. "Now listen carefully. That interference genera-

tor has to be portable for the rebels to have brought it

in there. That means it's functioning off a power pack

and can only generate a short range interference

pattern. We can't transport the hostages out, but we

can transport in."

    "I don't like it, Kirk," Iano said. "Why don't we

simply wait until they exhaust their power supply for

that generator?"

    "Hold on, Scotty," Kirk said. He turned to Iano.

"That wouldn't do," he said. "Remember, they set

this whole thing up with us in mind. I'm sure they're

not stupid. They would have brought spare power

packs. And the longer we wait, the more the situation

favors them. So long as they have that interference

generator, they can keep the hostages together and

keep us from transporting them out. The minute they

start running low on power, what's to prevent them

from splitting up the hostages? We'd only be able to

beam up one group at time, provided we could get a

fix on them quickly enough. In the meantime, they

could start killing people."

    "I see," Iano said. "Very well. It's your decision.

But as you humans would say, you're taking one hell

of a risk."

    "I know that," Kirk said. "Our only chance is to

take them off balance." He spoke into his communica-

               137

     "Not that you can, but that you do, and without my

 permission," Kirk said. "If you'd be so kind as to stay

 out of my head, Lieutenant, I would certainly appreci-

 ate it."

  "I have a job to do, Captain," Iano said.

     "So do I," Kirk replied. "And you're not making it

 any easier."

     "What have you to fear from my knowing your

 thoughts, if you have nothing to hide?" Iano asked.

    "That's a very old argument, Lieutenant," Kirk

replied. "In the past, it's been used as a justification

for every sort of abuse of power. If you're truly

innocent, then what do you have to fear from an

illegal search? If you have nothing to hide, then why'

object to being summarily detained and questioned?

If you're not guilty, then why refuse to testify? It's the

kind of crippled logic that leads to fascism and

to..." He did not complete the sentence, but Iano

got the thought.

    "And to people like me," Iano said flatly. "That is

what you were about to say, isn't it?"

    "That's right, Iano," Kirk admitted. "I thought

about saying it, but I chose not to. There is a differ-

ence."

    "I'm curious, Kirk," Iano said. "If you had my

ability, would you refrain from using it?"

    "I'd like to think that if I had your ability, I

wouldn't use it indiscriminately," Kirk replied. "I'd

like to think that I would respect other people's rights,

especially their right to privacy."

    "I see," Iano said. "And who, I wonder, is to

determine exactly what those rights are? The Federa-

tion council? Or perhaps the Patrian Council, deter-

mining the question of Patrian rights,for Patrians?"

               136

 Before Kirk could respond, Scott came back on.

    "I'm transporting those items you requested right

now, Cap'n."

 "Very good, Mr. Scott," Kirk said.

    A moment later the blast shields and the portable

deflector grid appeared on the street behind them.

    "All right, we've got the shipment, Scotty," Kirk

said. "Now listen carefully. That interference genera-

tor has to be portable for the rebels to have brought it

in there. That means it's functioning off a power pack

and can only generate a short range interference

pattern. We can't transport the hostages out, but we

can transport in."

    "I don't like it, Kirk," Iano said. "Why don't we

simply wait until they exhaust their power supply for

that generator?"

    "Hold on, Scotty," Kirk said. He turned to Iano.

"That wouldn't do," he said. "Remember, they set

this whole thing up with us in mind. I'm sure they're

not stupid. They would have brought spare power

packs. And the longer we wait, the more the situation

favors them. So long as they have that interference

generator, they can keep the hostages together and

keep us from transporting them out. The minute they

start running low on power, what's to prevent them

from splitting up the hostages? We'd only be able to

beam up one group at time, provided we could get a

fix on them quickly enough. In the meantime, they

could start killing people."

    "I see," Iano said. "Very well. It's your decision.

But as you humans would say, you're taking one hell

of a risk."

    "I know that," Kirk said. "Our only chance is to

take them off balance." He spoke into his communiea-

               137

tor again. "Scotty, I want you to compute transporter

coordinates for the ground floor of that building, at a

point just behind where you picked up those six

life-form readings. I also want coordinates computed

for the area directly above the one where you're

picking up all the other readings. Find out how close

you can get us in. Have you got that?"

    "Aye, I should have that information for you in a

moment, Cap'n," Scott replied.

    "Go to it, Scotty. Kirk out." He snapped his

communicator shut. "All right, Mr. Spock, Mr.

Chekov, we're going to have to do this the hard way.

We'll have to take out that generator before we can get

the hostages out."

  "I understand, Captain," Spock said.

    "Let's hope we only have to do this as a last resort,"

Kirk said grimly. "Maybe there's still a chance we can

negotiate."

    "You think they will respond, Captain?" Chekov

asked.

    Kirk shrugged. "I don't know. It's worth a try.

They've never talked to a human before. If they're

opposed to Patrian involvement with the Federation,

I'm sure they'll be interested to see just what it is that

they're opposed to. I think they'll respond out of

curiosity, if nothing else. At least, that's what I'm

counting on. Meanwhile, we should be prepared to go

in immediately if they won't negotiate. While I'm

making contact with the rebels, you and Mr. Chekov

are going to transport back up to the Enterprise and

wait for my signal. If the rebels won't deal, then we'll

have to move fast. On my signal, have Scotty beam

you down inside that building, behind those six rebels

stationed on the ground floor. I want you to take them

138

out as quickly as possible, phasers on stun. Then I

want you to beam back up at once and come back

down again, on the floor directly above the rebel

position, or as close to it as Scotty can get you. When I

give the signal, make your move to secure those

hostages and make it fast. If we're going to pull this off

without getting anyone killed, speed will be our only

chance."

    "I understand," Spock said. Chekov nodded in

agreement.

 "All right, Ianom"

    "I am already ahead of you, Kirk," Iano replied. "I

have a police assault team standing by, ready to move

in on your order."

    "Damn it, Iano, I wish you'd stay out of my mind!"

Kirk said angrily.

    "I am merely trying to help expedite the situation,"

Iano said.

    "I'm ready with that comscreen hookup, sir," Muir

said.

    Kirk had Yeoman Jacob brief the Patrian police

assault team on the use of the deuterium blast shields.

He then outlined what he wanted them to do.

  "Enterprise to Cap'n Kirk."

    Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Go ahead,

Scotty."

    "I can get you in on the ground floor no trouble,

Cap'n," the chief engineer replied. "But that interfer-

ence pattern won't let me get you on the floor above

the rebels. The best I can do is bring you in two floors

above the rebel position."

    "All right, Scotty, that'll have to do," Kirk said.

"Prepare to beam up Mr. Spock and Mr. Chekov on

my signal. Stand by.. 2' He turned to Spock and

               139

Chekov. "Okay, if they won't negotiate, then we'll

have to take out the people on the ground floor first.

Then, while the police assault team moves in, Scotty

will beam you back up and bring you in on the upper

floors, as close as he can beyond the range of that

generator. I want you to get down on the floor directly

above the rebels as fast as you can, then on my signal,

blast your way through, secure the hostages, and take

out that generator. Remember, your only chance is

speed. If you lose the element of surprise, you'll

endanger both the hostages and yourselves."  "I understand, Captain," Spock said.

    Kirk turned to Iano. "All right, let's make that call."

The moment the rebels answered, Kirk held up his

communicator close to his mouth and softly said,

"Now, Mr. Scott."

    As Spock and Chekov beamed back up to the

Enterprise, Kirk stepped up to the cornscreen. When

the rebels learned that a Federation starship captain

wanted to speak with them, they seemed highly inter-

ested and their leader immediately came to the

screen. He had the look and manner of someone

imbued with a sense of purpose, and on seeing him,

Kirk had no doubt about what Iano had told him

about these people being willing to die for their cause.

    "I am Captain James T. Kirk, commander of the

Federation starship Enterprise," Kirk said. "Whom

do I have the honor of addressing?"

    "Honor?" the rebel said. He seemed amused. "It

may be an honor for a humble freedom fighter to

address the captain of a Federation starship, but are

you quite certain that you regard this as an honor,

Captain Kirk?"

 "If you don't want to tell me your name, I under-

140

stand," Kirk said. "I merely wanted to know how I

should address you."

    "My name is of no concern to you, Captain," the

rebel leader replied. "What did you wish to say to

me?"

    "A moment ago you called yourself a freedom

fighter," Kirk said. "Do freedom fighters threaten the

lives of innocent people?"

    "Freedom fighters do whatever they have to do to

fight oppression," the rebel leader replied. "And those

who serve the oppressors, such as the people we are

holding here, can hardly be considered innocent.

Besides, this is a ParrJan internal matter, Captain.

What possible concern is it of yours?"

    "You've made it my concern," Kirk said, "by

accepting weapons from the Klingons."

    "I see," the rebel said. "And just what gives the

Federation the right to decide with whom Patrians can

trade?"

    "Don't play games with me, mister," Kirk said.

"You know exactly why we're here. By giving you

disruptors, the Klingons are interfering with the cul-

tural autonomy of the Patrian Republics. They're

trying to destabilize your government and upset the

treaty negotiations with the Federation, so they can

come in and take over. You're not a freedom fighter.

You're just an unwitting Klingon pawn."

    "I would expect a Federation officer to denigrate the

Klingons," the rebel leader replied, unruffled. "The

fact remains that it was the Klingons, and not the

Federation, who offered to aid us in our struggle

against oppression. It is the Federation that seeks to

ally itself with the oppressors."

  "If that was our aim," Kirk said, "then we could

                       141

have simply supplied phaser weapons to the Patrian

authorities, to counteract the disruptors that the

Klingons have given you. But what would that have

solved? It would have only served to escalate the

violence, and violence has never been a solution to

anything."

    "Oh, come now, Captain," the rebel said with

derision. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that you,

a commander of a Starfleet battlecruiser, are a paci-

fist?"

    "The Enterprise is not a battleship," Kirk protested.

"It has the capability to fight, yes, but it is first and

foremost a vessel of exploration. Our mission is to

discover and contact other civilizations, and establish

relations with them. We seek not to provoke war, but

to promote peace. The weapons capabilities of

Star fleet vessels are employed only as a last resort,

when all other options have been exhausted. What I'm

trying to do here is explore some of those other

options with you, in the hope that further violence can

be avoided."

    "What do you propose, Captain?" the rebel leader

asked.

    Kirk shrugged. "I can propose nothing until I know

what it is you want. Why are you doing this? What do

you hope to accomplish?"

    "We are doing this to draw attention to our cause,

Captain," the rebel leader said. "And to demonstrate

our will to fight against oppression."

    "But what is it you want?" Kirk pressed him,

wondering if Spock and Chekov were in position yet.

"You have taken hostages. What will you accept for

their release?"

 "Accept?" the rebel leader said. "Why, we shall

                      142

accept nothing less than the resignation of the entire

Patrian Council and the disbanding of the Mindcrime

Unit. That will do... for a beginning."

    "I told you they are mad," Iano said, coming up to

stand beside Kirk. "You cannot reason with a fa-

natic."

    Kirk waved him off. "What if I were to surrender

myself to you in place of the hostages?"

    "You?" the rebel leader said. "You want me to take

you in trade for thirty people? You place no small

value on yourself, Captain Kirk. Or is it that you think

one human is worth thirty Patrians?"

    "No, of course not, but I am a Federation Starfleet

officer of command rank," Kirk said. "Your govern-

ment is currently in negotiations with the Federation.

Surely you must realize that, from a purely political

standpoint, I would be a much more valuable hostage

to you than a group of lower echelon administrative

workers."

    "Perhaps," the rebel leader said thoughtfully. "Your

point is well-taken, Captain Kirk. I will consider it.

Approach the building. And come alone."

  "Release the hostages first," Kirk said.

    "You are in no position to dictate terms, Captain

Kirk," the rebel replied. "Surrender yourself first."

    "And then you'll have both me and the hostages,"

Kirk said. "You'll have to do better than that."

    "I have to do nothing, Captain," the rebel leader

replied. "I have the hostages. And if our demands are

not met, then they shall die. If you wish to discuss the

matter further, then approach the building alone and

unarmed. Otherwise, we have nothing more to talk

about."

  The screen went blank.

143

     Kirk immediately flipped open his communicator.

 "Spock?"

      "Standing by, Captain," his first officer replied

 from on board the Enterprise.  "Go!" Kirk said.

    Spock and Chekov were immediately beamed down

inside the building, materializing behind the six rebels

who had taken up position on the ground floor. Three

rebels armed with Klingon disruptors were guarding

the front entrance, and three were watching the rear.

Both entrances had been barricaded, but they had

expected a frontal assault, not an attack from behind

them.

    As Spock and Chekov materialized, the surprised

rebels turned to meet the threat, but they were not

quick enough. Spock took the three at the front and

Chekov took out the ones at the rear. Two quick blasts

with their phasers on stun, set on wide dispersal

beam, and the rebels were unconscious on the floor.

    Not wasting any time, Spock and Chekov immedi-

ately transported back up to the ship and were once

again beamed back down to the occupied building,

arriving two floors above the rebel position. With

their phasers held ready, they moved quickly toward

the stairs. Within moments they had positioned them-

selves directly above the large conference room where

the hostages were being kept.

    Spock signaled Kirk on his communicator. "We are

in position above the rebels, Captain."

    "Stand by, Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "Scotty, three to

beam up. Are you locked on?"

 "Locked on and ready, Cap'n," Scott said.

 Muir and Jacob both stood by with their phasers

               144

ready beside the disassembled sections of the deflec-

tor grid.

    "Okay, Spock... Scotty... simultaneously, on

my word..." Kirk turned to Iano. "Deploy the

assault team, Lieutenant."

    Iano gave the order for the police assault team to

move in. Holding the portable deuterium blast shields

before them, the Patrian police team started to move

out across the street, heading slowly but purposefully

toward the occupied building. With the blast shields

held before them, they moved directly out into the

open, spreading out as they came in toward the

building at a steady pace.

    They drew disruptor fire from the building, but

when the rebels saw that no fire was being directed

against the advancing police unit from the ground

floor, they realized that something had gone wrong

down there. Precisely what Kirk had been counting

on.

    Holding his communicator down by his side, Kirk

watched intently as the police assault team advanced

slowly. "Come on, "he said to himself, thinking of the

rebel leader. "Don't let me down .... "

    He waited, counting off the seconds. He figured

maybe ten, maybe twenty seconds for the rebel leader

to realize that something had gone wrong on the

ground floor, and then possibly another ten or fifteen

seconds for him to dispatch a portion of his force

down to the ground floor to see what happened,

thereby weakening his position where the hostages

were being held.

    Moments later Kirk saw disruptor fire being di-

rected at the advancing police unit from the front

145

 entrance of the building. He brought up his communi-

 cator. "Spock, Scotty--now!"

     Simultaneously, Kirk, Muir, and Jacob were

 beamed up to the Enterprise, while Spock and Chekov

 used their phasers to blast their way through the floor

 above the rebels. As Spock and Chekov blasted their

 way through the floor, Kirk and the two Enterprise

 crewmen materialized in the transporter room. Scott

 was at the transporter controls himself, unwilling to

 delegate the responsibility for an operation that re-

 quired such crucial timing to anybody else.

    "Scotty, get me down there! Muir, Jacob, stand by

for my signal! The moment that generator's out, get in

there, fast!" Kirk said. "Energize, Mr. Scott!"

"Aye, Cap'n," Scott said, activating the transporter.

Kirk materialized on the same coordinates where

Spock and Chekov had arrived. He could hear the

sounds of phasers as Spock and Chekov made their

move, and he started sprinting hard toward the stairs

to get to them.

    As Spock dropped through the hole in the ceiling,

the rebels firing at the advancing police assault team

turned from the windows, alerted by the sound of the

phasers. Spock fired, aiming at anyone he saw holding

a weapon. Four phaser blasts, in quick succession, and

four rebels fell, unconscious.

    Chekov dropped down and immediately crouched,

firing as he landed. A moment later three rebels

guarding the hostages all lay senseless on the floor, but

there were still others outside in the corridor. As they

came running in, altered by the sound of phaser fire,

Spock was taking out the last of the rebels in the room,

firing rapidly and methodically, his quick Vulcan

146

reactions giving him an edge over the surprised rebels.

A disruptor shot coming from behind him slammed

into the opposite wall, missing him by inches. He

dropped to the floor and rolled, but even as he came

up, Kirk came flying through the hole in the ceiling,

like a diver, and his body slammed into the rebels as

they came running into the room.

    They all went down, and as Kirk came up, he came

up fighting. He punched one rebel hard in his scaly

stomach, then chopped him to the ground with blow

to the back of his neck. He pivoted quickly and lashed

out with a roundhouse at the jaw of another rebel. The

second rebel crumpled to the floor, unconscious, as a

third rebel grabbed Kirk from behind. Kirk flipped

him over his back, directly into another rebel, who

was bringing up his disruptor. As they went down in a

tangle, Kirk drew his phaser and fired, stunning them.

He turned quickly, crouching low and scanning the

room with a quick gaze, his phaser held ready before

him. He spotted the interference generator, quickly

changed settings on his phaser, and took it out with

one quick blast.

    "Quick, cover the door!" Kirk said, reaching for his

communicator and flipping it open. "Kirk to Enter-

prise. Lock on my coordinates, Scotty, and energize!"

    Seconds later the shimmering forms of Muir and

Jacob appeared.

    "All right, quickly!" Kirk said, taking charge. "We

haven't got much time! Move!"

    Muir and Jacob immediately started to assemble

the sections of the deflector grid that had been trans-

ported into the room with them. As they did so, Spock

and Chekov took up their positions by the door,

147

 covering them. Kirk turned quickly to the frightened

 hostages.

     "My name is Captain James T. Kirk, of the Federa-

 tion starship Enterprise," he told them. "Don't be

 alarmed. We're going to get you out of here. Just

 remain calm and follow instructions." He glanced up

 toward the door. "How are we doing, Spock?" he

 asked.

     Spock glanced over his shoulder as he held his

 phaser ready, set on stun. "I believe we are about to

 have company, Captain."

  "They're coming up the stairs," Chekov said.

     "I need that grid operational, Mr. Muir!" Kirk said

 tensely.

     "Just about ready, sir," Muir said, snapping the last

 section in place. "There, that's got it!"

"Spock! Chekov! Get back here!" Kirk called.

"One moment, Captain," Spock said as he and

Chekov both fired their phasers down toward the

landing at the advancing rebels. There were yells as

the ones stunned by the blast fell back down the stairs

upon their comrades.

    "That should hold them for a minute or two,"

Chekov said confidently.

  They retreated behind the deflector grid.

    "Okay, Yeoman," Kirk said to Jacob. "Activate the

grid."

    As Yeoman Jacob threw the remote control switch,

Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to

Enterprise..."

 "Scott here, Captain."

 "Scotty, start transporting the hostages. Now/"

 "Aye aye, sir."

 As a portion of the group of hostages were trans-

               148

ported up to the Enterprise, several disruptor blasts

came through the doorway from the stairs below.

    "Here they come," Chekov said tensely, holding his

phaser ready.

    Slightly less than one-third of the hostages had been

beamed up to the Enterprise, but as Scotty brought up

the second group, the rebels burst through the door-

way, firing their disruptors as they came. The inter-

connected strips of the deflector grid laid out on the

floor, however, set up a short-range field of energy that

functioned on a principle similar to that of the ship's

deflector shields. As the disruptor blasts struck the

field projected by the grid, they were deflected and the

rebels suddenly found themselves standing in a room

where their own shots were being deflected right back

at them. In the moment or two it took them to realize

what was happening, several of them were killed by

their own shots. The others, confused, quickly re-

treated to regroup.

    Scotty was beaming up the last of the hostages. Only

Kirk and the crew members of the Enterprise were

left. Spock checked his tricorder, taking a reading on

the grid.

 "Grid shield still holding, Captain," he said.

    Kirk spoke into his communicator. "Scotty, have

you got all the hostages up safely?"

    "Safe and sound, sir, if a mite confused," the chief

engineer replied.

    Yes, well, they certainly would be, Kirk thought,

having never experienced anything even remotely like

being teleported by a transporter before. However, at

least they were all alive and well. We've pulled it off,

he thought. We got them all out in one piece. Federa-

tion officers save thirty hostages, without any losses.

149

That should make Bob Jordan very pleased. It would

certainly help in his ongoing negotiations.

  "Energize, Mr. Scott," Kirk said.

    When the rebels came back up the stairs for their

second try, more cautiously this time, they found an

empty room, with only the glowing deflector grid laid

out on the floor.

Chapter Seven

150

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, they got away?" Kirk asked,

staring at Iano with disbelief. "How could they possi-

bly get away? You had the entire building surrounded

and the roof covered from the air!"

    Before beaming back down to the planet surface

themselves, Kirk and his crew had seen to it that the

hostages were all transported safely down to the

planet surface, where the police could question them.

However, when they followed the hostages back

down, they discovered that the rebels had made good

their escape.

    "When they saw that they had lost their hostages,

they must have panicked," Iano said. "As we were

moving in, they took the lift down to the basement

level and blasted their way through into one of the

underground conduit tunnels that conducts sewage

151

 underneath the city to the treatment plants. It had not

 occurred to us that they might choose such a method

 of escape."

      Kirk grimaced and shrugged. "Frankly, it would not

 have occurred to me either."  "I know," Iano said.

     Kirk took a deep breath and gave the Pathan cop a

 hard stare, but said nothing.

     "In any event, they all managed to escape," Iano

 said. "Pity. ! had hoped that we could take some of

 them alive for questioning."

    "What about the six that were left unconscious on

the ground floor?" asked Spock.

    Iano shook his head. "There was no sign of them.

They must have recovered and made good their

escape with the others."

    Spock frowned. "It is virtually impossible that they

could have recovered from a phaser stun so quickly,"

he said. "Even allowing for biological variables in the

Patrian constitution, they should have remained un-

conscious for at least another three to four hours, and

they would have continued to feel some aftereffects

for at least the next six to twelve hours."

    "Well, then I suppose their friends must have

carried them away," Iano said. "We held back until we

were reasonably sure that you were out of there,

because we didn't want to take a chance on hitting you

or getting caught in a cross fire. However, when we did

go in, there was no sign of the rebels you had stunned.

We merely saw the blast marks on the floor."

    "Blast marks?" Kirk said with a frown. "What blast

marks? A phaser on stun doesn't leave any blast

marks."

152

 "I will show you, if you like," Iano said.

    He led them back inside the building. They entered

through the doors on the ground floor and went into

the building lobby. Iano pointed out the large, discol-

ored blast marks on the floor where three of the men

had been positioned by the front doors, and three

more at the back.

    Spock glanced at Kirk significantly. "Captain, these

discolorations are blast burns from a disruptor," he

said.

    "Well, that explains what happened to them," Kirk

said grimly. "They were killed by their own people.

Rather than encumber themselves with six uncon-

scious rebels, the others simply disintegrated them

where they lay. They probably did the same thing with

the others."

    "As I told you, Kirk," Iano said. "These people are

fanatics. They simply will not allow themselves to be

taken alive."

    "Because they know the Mindcrime Unit could

squeeze their brains dry," Kirk said. "They may be

fanatics, Iano, but it's because you've given them no

other choice."

 "Sympathy, Kirk?" Iano said. "For terrorists?"

    "I didn't say that I felt sympathy for them," Kirk

replied. "I'm merely trying to understand them. Un-

derstanding the opposition is often half the battle."

  "A very astute observation," Iano said.

"Just something I've learned from experience."

"Well, your experience has served you very well

tonight," Iano said. "You managed to rescue all of the

hostages without incurring any losses. I must admit, I

am impressed. And I believe my superiors will be

               153

 equally impressed. You've done much for your cause

 tonight, Captain."

     "Perhaps," Kirk said, "but my primary concern was

 making sure those hostages weren't hurt. I'm grateful

 that we were able to help."

     "And l, in turn, am grateful for that help," Iano

 said. "Now, I am sure you and your people must be

 tired. I must remain here and complete my investiga-

 tion for my report, but I will arrange for a police flier

 to take you back to the legation."

    McCoy was waiting for them in the conference

room when they arrived back at the legation. He was

anxiously pacing back and forth, and the moment

they walked in, he came rushing over to them.

    "I heard about what happened," he said. "Inal told

me about the rebels seizing the hostages. Is everything

all right?"

    "Yes, everything's fine, Bones," Kirk replied. "I'm

afraid some of the rebels managed to make good their

escape, but at least we were able to get all the hostages

out safely."

    "Well, thank God for that!" McCoy said, looking

greatly relieved. "And I'm pleased that everyone's all

right. When I found out you'd gone off with Iano and

that I'd been left behind, I was afraid that ... well,

I'm just glad you're all right, that's all."

    "I appreciate your concern," Kirk said. "By the

way, Bones, where the devil were you?"

    "I... I was in my room. I guess I must have fallen

asleep .... "

    Muir and Jacob exchanged glances, but neither one

of them wanted to openly contradict a senior officer.

Spock, on the other hand, had no such problem.

               154

    "Forgive me, Doctor, but it is my understanding

that Mr. Muir had sought you there without suc-

cess."

    "That is true," Chekov added. "We could not find

you anywhere."

 "Yes, so where were you?" Kirk asked.

    "I... well... ifI wasn't in my room, then... uh,

I guess I must have been..." McCoy's voice trailed

off as he floundered helplessly, searching for a reply.

    Spock raised an eyebrow, gazing at him with a

questioning look.

    McCoy swallowed uneasily and moistened his lips

nervously. "I was... well, that is, I..."

    "Yes?" Kirk said, prompting him. It wasn't like

McCoy to fabricate excuses, yet that was clearly what

he was trying to do, though without very much

SuCcess.

"He was with me, in my quarters," Secretary Wing

said from the doorway.

    They turned to see her standing there, dressed in a

robe and barefoot, her long black hair cascading down

her back and shoulders. Kirk simply stared at her.

Chekov's jaw dropped. Even Spock cocked his head

and raised an appreciative eyebrow. Muir saw Yeo-

man Jacob catch him staring, and he quickly looked

down at the floor.

    "He was with you?" Kirk said with astonishment.

He turned to McCoy. "You were with her?"

    "Secretary Wing wasn't feeling very well," McCoy

began, "and I went up to see if there was anything that

I could w"

    "There was nothing wrong with me at all," she said,

contradicting flatly as she entered the room. "Dr.

155

 McCoy is trying to be gallant, and a gentleman. I

 appreciate that, but it's entirely unnecessary. I have

 nothing of which to be ashamed, and we are all adults

 here, are we not?"

     "Indeed," Spock said, inclining his head slightly.

 His expression, as usual, was entirely unreadable.

     Chekov closed his mouth, then opened it again,

 then closed it and cleared his throat. "Absolutely," he

 finally managed to get out.

     Kirk gaped at her, then turned to McCoy with

 amazement and repeated, "You were with her?"

    "I think we've established that already, Captain,"

she said, before McCoy could reply. "The ambassa-

dor's asleep, and I didn't want to disturb him, but I'm

sure he'll want a complete report from me as soon as

he wakes up in the morning. So, Captain, if you don't

mind?"

    "Ah," Kirk said, glancing from her to McCoy and

back again. "Yes... of course. A report... Uh...

Mr. Spock?"

    Spock quickly filled her in on the events of that

night. As he was doing so, Ambassador Jordan ar-

rived, dressed in a robe and slippers. Spock started

over, and when he completed his report, Jordan

merely pursed his lips thoughtfully and nodded. "It

appears I've missed a good bit of excitement this

evening," he said.

  "More than you know," Kirk said.

  "What was that, Jim?" Jordan asked.

    "Nothing," Kirk said quickly. "Just thinking out

loud. It's getting late. I think we'd all better turn in.

Some of us need to get our rest," he added with an

arch look at McCoy.

 "You did very well tonight, Jim," Jordan said.

156

 "You all did very well," Secretary Wing added as

they passed her on their way out and said good night.

  She was referring, of course, to the rescue of the

  hostages, but it was a straight line that Kirk wasn't

  going to touch with a ten-foot pole.

    "What you did tonight should do a great deal to

increase our standing around here," Jordan said after

the others had gone, leaving him alone with Kirk,

McCoy, and Spock. "But our first priority must be to

find out how those disruptors are getting through to

the terrorists, stop the shipments, and confiscate the

ones they already have."

"That last one's not going to be so easy," Kirk said.

"I realize that," Jordan replied. "I don't necessarily

expect you to perform miracles, Jim. But I do expect

you to try. I don't really want to be forced into a

position where I'll have to agree to supplying the

Patrian authorities with phaser weapons."

    "Are they putting pressure on you about that?"

Kirk asked.

    "Yes," Jordan replied wearily. "And they're being

rather insistent about it. It isn't really being presented

as a demand, but it practically amounts to one, to all

intents and purposes. The way they see it, if we agree

to supply them with phasers, with no strings attached,

we're merely demonstrating our goodwill and creating

a comfortable atmosphere in which the negotiations

can proceed. But if I remind them that sharing

weapons technology with nonmember planets is

against our current policy and something I cannot

agree to without express authorization from the Fed-

eration council, then they make it seem as if I'm

taking refuge behind policy in an attempt to strength-

en my negotiating position and extort concessions

157

from them. We get absolutely nowhere, so we go on to

something else, but it always comes back to the same

thing again. It's simply maddening."

    "I guess you can't really blame them, Bob," Kirk

said. "They're frightened. They're not only facing

weapons more advanced than anything they've got,

but the situation only serves to remind them that

there are cultures out there with technologies vastly

superior to theirs. And it's bound to be making them

nervous."

    "He's got a point," McCoy said. "It's got to be a

sobering experience. One moment you're the domi-

nant species in your system, master of all you survey.

And then the next thing you know, you find out there

are other intelligent beings out there, and they've got

bigger clubs than you."

    "The problem is, we simply cannot share weapons

technology with a nonmember planet," Wing said.

"When we've done it in the past, it's always caused

problems."

    "Yes, I know," Kirk said, thinking back to his old

friend, Tyree. Back then, he had done what he felt he

had to do, but he'd never forget what happened as a

result.

    "On the other hand, our reluctance makes it look as

if we're trying to take advantage of the situation to

force the Patrians into the Federation," Jordan said.

    "I can appreciate your problem," Kirk said sympa-

thetically.

    "Which is why I'm counting on you, Jim," Jordan

replied. "What you did tonight in rescuing the hos-

tages will certainly help matters a great deal, but I'm

afraid it's not enough. I think we're going to have to

help the Patrians break the back of the rebellion."

158

  "What?" McCoy said.

    "Are you serious?" Kirk asked, taken aback by his

suggestion.

    "With all due respect, Ambassador," Spock said, "I

feel I must point out that becoming directly involved

in the internal political conflicts of the Patrians is

completely outside our province. It would be a clear

violation of the Prime Directire."

    "Perhaps," Jordan said. "But I think there's a gray

area here. If the Federation became directly involved

in their internal political conflicts, then that would

certainly be the case. However, that's not really what

we're doing here. We are attempting, at the request of

the Patrians, to compensate for cultural interference

in their society effected by the Klingons, and we are

confining our activities to dealing with the source of

that interference."

 "Come again?" McCoy said with a frown.

    "I think I see what he's getting at, Bones," Kirk

said. "Stopping the flow of illegal, off-world weapons

to the Patrian rebels is within our authority, so long as

the request has been made officially by the Patrian

government. It's a matter of trying to stop cultural

interference from outside. Dealing with the source

of that interference would ordinarily imply the

Klingons, but then one could make the argument that

the disruptors themselves are the actual, direct source

of the interference, while the Klingons, who supply

them, are only indirectly responsible."

"Precisely," Jordan replied, looking relieved.

"And since the rebels are the ones who actually have

the disruptors, then going after the rebels themselves

could be interpreted as going after the source of the

interference," Kirk finished.

159

 "Excellent," Jordan said. "I see we're thinking

 along the same lines, Jim."

     "Good Lord!" McCoy said. "Talk about splitting

 hairs! Isn't that pushing things a little far?"

     "Maybe," Jordan replied, "but if we pull this off,

 nobody's going to be asking any questions."

    "There will have to be reports," Spock reminded

him.

    "True, Mr. Spock," Jordan replied. "I admit that we

are on rather delicate ground as pertains to our

interpretation of policy in this situation."

    "But the fact remains that the rebels are in posses-

sion of an unknown quantity of Klingon disruptors,"

Kirk said, "and even if we can prevent any more

weapons from reaching them, that still leaves us with

the problem of the ones already in their hands. Short

of helping the Patrian authorities break the back of

the rebellion and apprehend the leaders, thereby

enabling us to recover those weapons, there doesn't

seem to be any other way to deal with this problem.

It's either that or supply the Patrians with phasers and

then keep our noses out of it."

    "I'm afraid that's not a decision I'm in a position to

make," Jordan said. "Not without authorization from

the Federation council. And who knows how long that

would take?"

    Kirk shrugged. "Well, then I guess our course is

clear."

    "Good," Jordan said. "I'm glad to see you're on top

of the situation. I knew I could count on you, Jim. I'm

sure you've made the right decision. Well, I'll say good

night, gentlemen. I've got a long day ahead of me

tomorrow."

160

    He turned and left the room. Secretary Wing said

good night and followed him out.

    Kirk glanced at McCoy and grinned. "Why, you old

dog, you. I didn't know you had it in you."

 "Frankly, neither did I," McCoy replied wryly.

 "She's really quite a woman," Kirk said.

    "She's unlike anyone I've ever met before," McCoy

replied.

 "Bones... this isn't serious, is it?"

    "Oh, I very much doubt that," McCoy said. "For

one thing, I'm really much too old for her."

 "A lot of women like older men," Kirk said.

    "And she's much too young for me," McCoy said

with a grimace.

    "Chronologically, perhaps, but she's a mature

young woman, and highly intelligent too," Kirk said.

"Besides, age is really just a state of mind. It didn't

seem as if it bothered her at all."

    "Look, just because you exert your fatal charm on

every nubile female between Earth and Rigel Seven

doesn't mean that I have to start acting like I'm having

a second adolescence!" McCoy replied gruffly.

    "Now... let me get this straight," Kirk said.

"Somehow, God only knows how or why, you've

managed to get a beautiful, intelligent woman roman-

tically interested in you--which only goes to show

there's no accounting for taste, I suppose--and you're

actually complaining about it?"

    "Don't be ridiculous," McCoy snapped. "Of course

I'm not complaining. I feel unbelievably lucky.

But..."

  "But?"

  "Well, it's just too good to be true, that's all. I'm not

               161

 going to start reading anything into this. It was a

 one-time thing, that's all."

  "What makes you so sure?" Kirk asked.

    "Kim's been under a lot of stress," McCoy said.

"She's a long way from home and she's in a very

high-pressure situation. And Jordan's been depending

on her quite a lot, apparently. I got the impression

that she has to carry the ball much of time. I guess it

was just... just one of those things, that's all."

    "One of those crazy, wonderful things," Kirk said,

quoting the old song lyric with a perfectly straight

face.

    "Well, if we are quite finished discussing matters of

substance, gentlemen, then I am going to bed," Spock

said.

    "Good night, Mr. Spock," Kirk said with mock

gravity.

  "Good night, Captain. Doctor..."

  McCoy merely grunted.

      "Hell, don't worry it to death, Bones," Kirk said.

"Why not just accept it for what it is?"  McCoy simply grunted again.

    "Well, it has been a long day," Kirk said. "I'm going

to go check in with Scotty and then I'll be turning in

myself. Good night, Bones. Sleep well."

    Kirk left, leaving McCoy alone in the large confer-

ence room. He went over to the bar and poured

himself a drink of "ScoWs Whiskey."

    "Well, it was fun while it lasted," McCoy said

wistfully, though there was no one in the room to hear

him. He raised the glass in a silent toast.

    He tossed back the drink, set the empty glass down

on the bar, and headed back down the corridor to his

room. He closed the door and started to pull off his

               162

uniform when he heard a soft, rustling movement

behind him and turned, quickly. In the moonlight

coming in through the window he could make out a

slim, curvaceous figure outlined underneath the cov-

ers.

 "What kept you?" she said softly.

    "Sir, long-range scanners are picking up an uniden-

tified vessel entering Patrian space," Sulu said.

 "Can you identify it, Mr. Sulu?" Scott asked.

    "Not at this distance, sir. She's still too far away,

even for maximum magnification."

    "We'd better let the Patrians know about it and see

if they're expecting any visitors," Scott said.

    Lieutenant Uhura broadcast the message to the

Patrians. A moment later she received a reply. "Mr.

Scott, I am picking up a message from Commander

Anjor aboard the Komarah," she reported, swiveling

her comchair toward the command console on the

bridge.

 "Put it on the screen, Lieutenant," Scotty replied.

    A moment later the image of the Patrian command-

er appeared on the main viewer.

    "This is Lieutenant Commander Scott, acting cap-

tain of the Enterprise," the chief engineer said, ac-

knowledging the call. "We are receiving you,

Commander."

    "Greetings, Mr. Scott," Anjor replied. "Our long-

range sensors have also picked up the unknown vessel

now entering Patrian space. We have hailed the vessel

repeatedly, but it is refusing to respond. We are

currently on an intercept course."

  "What is your present location, sir?" Scotty asked.

  "I will have my navigator transmit our current

               163

 heading and coordinates," Anjor replied. He turned

 and spoke briefly to someone off screen.

     "Heading and coordinates coming in now, Mr.

 Scott," Uhura said.

     "Put them through to Mr. Sulu please, Lieutenant,"

 Scotty said.

  "Aye aye, sir."

     "Komarah's heading and coordinates received and

 locked in, Mr. Scott," Sulu said. "We should be able to

 reach them in less than five minutes."

     "All right," Scott said. "We're on our way, Com-

 mander. Enterprise out."

     Scott gave the commands to the helmsman filling in

 for Chekov, then ordered Mr. Sulu to get a long-range

 scanner fix on that unknown vessel as they ap-

 proached the Komarah's location coordinates.

    As he settled back in the captain's chair, Scott could

not repress a smile. He didn't often have the chance to

fill in for Captain Kirk, but each time he received the

opportunity, he reveled in it. It was not that he

enjoyed being in a position of superiority, for he

didn't really care about that. He was not interested in

having his own command and never had been. He was

an engineer, first and foremost, and would always be.

What he enjoyed on such occasions was the opportun-

ity to put the Enterprise through her paces and watch

how she performed under his capable hands.

    He loved this ship. Perhaps even more than the

captain did. He had not only his heart and soul in it,

but his sweat and toil too. He knew every inch of her,

each engine bay and Jeffries tube, each thruster and

deflector grid and phaser bank. He had barked his

knuckles on the wiring access hatch of every single

console in the ship, and there wasn't a square inch of

               164

it that he did not know like the back of his own hand.

He viewed the performance of the Enterprise with

pride, because it was his hard work and skill that kept

the ship running tight. At times like this he felt almost

like a proud parent watching a child flawlessly execute

some complicated performance. It was a feeling that

no one except another engineer would ever truly

understand.

    "We should be within visual range in a moment or

two, Mr. Scott," Sulu said.

      "Put it up on the screen as soon as you've got her,

Mr. Sulu," Scott said.  "Aye aye, sir."

    A moment later the Enterprise's long-range scan-

ners were able to detect the ship and Sulu put the

visual display up on the main viewer. In the fore-

ground the Komarah appeared, filling up much of the

viewscreen, but in the far background there was the

small shape of a distant ship, too small to make out

any of its details.

    "Maximum magnification please, Mr. Sulu," Scotty

said.

  "Aye aye, sir."

    The image on the screen seemed to jump, and the

Kornarah disappeared from view as the visual display

was magnified to focus on the small ship in the

distance. Now, on the screen, it appeared much larger

and they could make out its configuration.

    "It's an Orion ship, Mr. Scott," Sulu said with

surprise.

"Give them a hail, Lieutenant Uhura," Scott said.

"Aye aye, sir," Uhura said, and spoke into her mike.

"Ahoy, Orion vessel. This is the Federation starship

Enterprise. Please acknowledge." A moment later she

               165

 repeated the hail, then turned and said, "They're not

 responding, Mr. Scott."

"Try them again," Scotty said, a little tensely.

Uhura tried again and shook her head. "Still no

response, sir. The Orions are capable of receiving all

standard Federation hailing frequencies. They just

aren't responding."

    "Perhaps they have some sort of a malfunction on

board," Scott said. "Or, quite possibly, they're carry-

ing something in their cargo holds they shouldn't be."

  "Freebooters?" Sulu said.

    "Aye, could be, Mr. Sutu," Scott said. "The Orions

have no great love for the Klingons, and the Klingons

like the Orions even less, but politics and greed often

make for some mighty strange bedfellows."

    "You think Orion freebooters might have made a

deal with the Klingons to smuggle disruptors to the

Patrian rebels?" Sulu asked.

    "I wouldn't put it past them," Scott said, watching

the viewscreen as they rapidly closed the distance

between their ship and the Orion vessel.

    "I wouldn't think the Klingons would trust the

Orions to deliver the disruptors," Sulu said. "Once

the freebooters took the shipment on board, what

would prevent them from simply turning around and

selling the cargo to the highest bidder?"

    "Probably nothing at all," Scott said, "and you can

be sure the Klingons would know that. However, if I

was a clever Klingon looking to destabilize the Patrian

government, I'd simply give the Orion freebooters the

disruptors and then pay them to deliver the weapons

to the Patrians, knowing they'd only sell them to the

rebels for as much as they could get. That's a deal no

freebooter would be able to refuse. It's one hundred

166

percent pure profit. Despite the risks, they'd deliver

every shipment and hurry back for more."

    Sulu nodded. "It makes sense. It would be worth it

to the Klingons, having the freebooters take all the

risks, and the Orions would accept the risks because

they stood to make a significant profit on both ends.

So everybody gets exactly what they want."

    "Except for the Patrian government," Uhura re-

minded them.

    "Aye," Scott said. "But we still don't know that's

what we've got here, though I must admit their failure

to respond does not bode well."

    "They haven't turned to run, and surely they must

be scanning us by now," Sulu said.

      "Aye, but they'd never outrun this ship," Scotty

said confidently, "and what's more, they know it too."

  "You think they'll try to brazen it out?" Sulu asked.'

  "I think they're going to do just that, Mr. Sulu,"

  Scott replied. "They know we've got no call to chal-

  lenge them outside Federation space, and they'll try to

  stand on that, but I don't think that will cut any ice

  with our friend Anjor."

    "Sir, I'm getting a message from the Komarah,"

Uhura said.

    "Put it up on the main viewer please, Lieutenant,"

Scotty said.

    Anjor's face appeared on the viewscreen. "We mon-

itored your attempt to hail the vessel, Mr. Scott," he

said. "You called them Orions?"

  "Aye," Scott said with a grimace.

"We know nothing of this race," Anjor said.

"They're a violent people, capable of giving even

the Klingons a good run for their money," Scott said.

"The Orions are not part of the Federation, and Orion

167

 freebooters have little respect for the Federation Ac-

 cords. They're a bunch of devious smugglers and

 black marketeers who'd strike a deal with the devil

 himself if there was a profit in it for them."

     "I very much resent that characterization," said a

 new voice, breaking into their conversation.

    The visual display on the main viewer changed

abruptly as Uhura switched over to the new transmis-

sion, revealing the face of the Orion commander. He

had the emerald-green skin and thick, almost

manelike black hair that were the chief distinguishing

features of the Orions, and he was wearing a glossy,

black, lizard-hide tunic over a dark red shirt. The

lower part of his humanoid face was narrow, aquiline,

and thin-lipped, and his chin was pointed. Scotty was

very open-minded and not one to generalize broadly

about other races, but with the Orions, he always felt

privately that there was something cruel and repellent

about their appearance.

    "So, if you can monitor our transmissions, then you

were able to receive us when we hailed you," Scott

said. "Why didn't you respond?"

    "We are not obliged to respond to every ship that

hails us," the Orion replied arrogantly. "Besides, we

were having some trouble with our communications

system and were unable to transmit at the time."

    Trust an Orion to be defiant and to cover his

backside at the same time, Scotty thought. And in the

same sentence too!

    "Well, you are certainly capable of responding

now," said Scotty said. "My name is Lieutenant

Commander Montgomery Scott of the U.S.S. Enter-

prise. What is your business here?"

168

    "I fail to see what concern that is of yours," the

Orion replied unpleasantly, refusing by omission to

identify himself. "This is not Federation space. You

have no authority here."

    "This is Commander Anjor, of the Patrian space

cruiser, Komarah," Anjor broke in, "and you have

entered Patrian space. The Enterprise is currently

functioning under Patrian authority. I repeat Lieuten-

ant Commander Scott's question: What is your busi-

ness here?"

    "We had merely wandered off course," the Orion

replied evasively. "As I have said before, we have been

having some minor difficulties with our communica-

tions system, and the problem affected our navigation-

al computers as well. It was not our intention to

violate your space, Commander. However, now that

we have those difficulties resolved, we shall be on our

wayf'

    "I think not, Captain," Scott replied. "Stand by to

be boarded for inspection."

    The Orion bristled. "I shall do no such thing! You

have no right to detain me or to board my ship?'

    "You are in Patrian space," Anjor repeated. "And

we have reason to believe that you may be smuggling

contraband weapons to Patrian rebels. If you resist,

you shall be fired upon."

    Scotty shook his head. This was not the way to

handle this sort of thing, he thought. Anjor was

throwing his weight around unnecessarily and was

backing the Orion into a corner. He was forcing a

fight, a fight that Scotty didn't want. The Orion

captain realized that he had blundered into a bad

situation and would probably be willing to cut his

169

 losses after putting up some face-saving protests, but

 Anjor was pushing him into a situation where his only

 choice would be to surrender his ship or fight. Anjor

 was giving the Orion no other options.

    "Firing on our vessel would be unwarranted and

most unwise, Commander," the Orion captain cau-

tioned. "We have merely strayed off course. We have

done nothing to cause you to commence hostilities

against us. If we are fired upon, we shall defend

ourselves."

    "Let's not be too hasty now," Scotty said, speaking

to both Anjor and the Orion captain. He had to think

of a way to defuse this situation, and he would have to

do it quickly. He quickly signaled to Uhura to cut

transmission. "Mr. Sulu, shields up, go to impulse

power and position the Enterprise between the

Komarah and the Orion vessel."  "Aye aye, sir," Sulu said.

    "You want me to try to raise the captain, Mr.

Scott?" Uhura asked.

    "No," Scott said. "This is my responsibility, Lieu-

tenant. The captain left me in charge. But I think

perhaps We'd best clarify our position, as far as

diplomacy is concerned. See if you can raise Ambassa-

dor Jordan."

  "Aye aye, sir."

    A moment later, as the Enterprise positioned itself

between the Pathan vessel and the Orion ship, Uhura

turned to Scott. "Mr. Scott, we're being hailed by the

Komarah. "

    "Just as I expected," Scott said tensely. "Have you

got Ambassador Jordan yet?"

 "No, sir. I'll keep trying."

               170

    "Very well, put the Komarah's call up on the

screen," Scott said. "We'll have to buy some time

here, if we can."

    Anjor's face appeared on the main viewer. "Lieu-

tenant Commander Scott, the Enterprise has moved

into position between our batteries and the Orion

ship. I would like an explanation of your actions, sir."

    "I'm just trying to let cooler heads prevail, Com-

mander," Scott replied. "We don't want to go rushing

into anything, do we?"

    "Mr. Scott, I remind you that, as per Captain Kirk's

agreement with Ambassador Jordan and my govern-

ment's representatives, the Enterprise is functioning

under Patrian authority in this joint effort. You will

kindly withdraw your ship, sir."

    "Mr. Scott," Uhura said, "I've gotten through to

the ambassador at the legation."

    "One moment, Commander, I have another mes-

sage coming in," Scott said. He signaled to Uhura to

cut off the transmission. "Put the ambassador on

scrambler frequency, Lieutenant," he said.  "Aye aye, sir. Go ahead."

    Jordan's face appeared on the screen. He looked as

if he had just been woken up. "What is it, Mr. Scott?"

he said impatiently. "I was preparing for the morn-

ing's meeting with the Patrian Council. This had

better be important."

    "Sir, we've got a bit of a ticklish situation here,"

Scott said. "We've intercepted an Orion vessel enter-

ing Patrian space, and they are refusing to be

boarded 2'

    "So what do you expect me to do, Mr. Scott?"

Jordan asked irately.

               171

    "Sir, the Komarah is present on the scene as well.

We're trying to get this resolved peacefully, but Com-

mander Anjor seems determined to force the issue. I

merely wanted a clarification of our position in this

situation, sir."

      "Mr. Scott, are you or are you not in acting com-

mand of the Enterprise?" Jordan asked.  "I am, sir, but--"

    "Am I supposed to hold your hand everytime

something comes up you're not sure of?." Jordan

demanded. "Frankly, Mr. Scott, I don't have the time.

I have more important things to do."

    "I understand that, Ambassador," Scott replied,

"but I'm merely seeking a clarification of our status in

this joint mission, sir, as pertains to your agreement

w/th the Patrian Council. If we're supposed to be

under Patrian authority in this joint effort, then does

that imply that--"

    "Mr. Scott," Jordan interrupted, "I have a very

busy and stressful day ahead of me tomorrow. Cap-

rain Kirk left you in charge aboard the Enterprise. If

you're incapable of carrying out your duties, then I

suggest you contact Captain K/rk and request to be

relieved. And now, if you don't mind, Mr. Scott, I

have important duties to attend to." The screen went blank.

 "Well, how do you like that?" Scott said.

    "Sounds as if we've just been told to sink or swim,"

Sulu said.

    "Mr. Scott, I'm picking up another hail from the

Komarah," Uhura said.

    "I shouldn't be surprised," Scott said with a gri-

mace. "What's the Orion doing, Mr. Sulu?"

               172

"Holding steady, Mr. Scott," Sulu replied.

"Waiting to see how this pans out," Scott said

grimly. "All right, Lieutenant, put the Komarah

through."

    Anjor's face appeared on the main viewer once

again. "Mr. Scott, if you do not immediately with-

draw the Enterprise and back me up in this operation,

then I will go around you, sir, and you will leave me

with no choice but to file a formal protest with the

Patrian Council."

    Scott stood there, tight-lipped, considering the situ-

ation. "Commander," he said, "with all due respect

for Patrian authority, I strongly urge you to recon-

sider-"

 The screen suddenly went blank.

    "The Komarah has broken off the transmission, Mr.

Scott," Uhura said.

    "Mr. Scott, the Komarah is changing position to get

in line with the Orion ship and powering up her

weapons," Sulu said. "The Orion vessel has raised

shields in response."

    "Damn," Scotty swore. "Anjor's biting off a lot

more than he can chew. The Orion has him hopelessly

outgunned."

    "I think he probably knows that, Mr. Scott," Sulu

said. "He's counting on us to even out the odds."

    "To save his bacon for him, you mean," Scott said

through clenched teeth. "Lieutenant Uhura, open a

channel to the Komarah, quickly!"

  "Too late, sir," Sulu said. "The Komarah's firing."

  "What? Bloody hell!" Scott swore.

    The shots fired by the Komarah struck the Orion

vessel's shields without any apparent effect.

               173

    "The Orion vessel is preparing to return fire, Mr.

Scott," Sulu said, watching his scanner screens in-

tently.

    "She'll blow the Komarah straight to kingdom

come," Scotty said, gritting his teeth. "Lock in

phasers!"

      "Locked in and standing by," the weapons officer

said, having already anticipated the command.

  "The Orion ship is firing!" Sulu said.

    The Orion's plasma blasts struck the Komarah

squarely amidships, sending debris raining out from it

into space.

  "Fire all phaser bankst" Scott sa/d.

    The Enterprise fired its phaser banks, but the com-

mander of the Orion vessel had anticipated their

response. Immediately after firing on the Komarah, he

had engaged his eng~nes. The Enterprise's phasers

narrowly missed the Orion vessel as the small and

highly maneuverable ship darted out of the way.

  "Clean miss," the weapons officer reported tersely.

    "He's coming in for a run underneath us!" Sulu

said.

    "Full power to aft, lower maneuvering thrusters!"

Scott commanded.

    "Full power to aft lower thrusters," $ulu repeated

the command, by rote. "Engaging now..."

    As the Orion ship closed in rapidly for a run

beneath the Enterprise's hull, Sulu engaged the ma-

neuvering thrusters located on the lower hull of the

ship. Designed for short burst, minor attitude adjust-

ments during docking procedures, the aft lower hull

thrusters were never intended for combat use, but

under full power they pivoted the Enterprise around

its own axis, like a clock hand going from a quarter of

               174

twelve to midnight. The aft end of the ship rose as the

Enterprise started an end-over-end revolution to bring

the ship's saucer section around in a vertical plane,

with its phaser banks bearing directly on the Orion

ship as it was making its pass.

  "Stand by phasers!" Scotty ordered.

  "Standing by, sir."

    As the Orion ship came in fast, its commander was

suddenly confronted with a completely different and

unexpected situation. Intending to run underneath

the Enterprise and rake it from below, he instead

found himself running directly into the path of the

Enterprise's phaser banks. Committed, he had no

choice but to follow through. His only options were to

fire or increase power in an attempt to outrun the

phasers. He chose both.

  "Orion ship is firing, Mr. Scott," Sulu said.

    "Steady on," Scott said. "Continuous fire on my

command..."

    As the Enterprise continued to revolve, the blast

from the Orion vessel narrowly missed them, the

Orion ship's commander failing to compensate for the

Federation starship's continued momentum.

  "Fire!" Scotty said.

    As the Orion ship passed the saucer section of the

Enterprise, accelerating to the maximum output of its

engines, the phaser banks fired and kept on firing as

the Enterprise continued its end-over-end revolution.

The result was that as the Orion ship went by them,

the Enterprise kept turning in a vertical plane,

maintaining the Orion vessel in its line of fire as the

smaller ship streaked past.

    The phaser blast struck the Orion ship's engine

nacetles, and the viewscreen was filled with blinding

               175

light as the O~~on ship exploded silently in the vast

vacuum of space. When the light from the explosion

faded, there was nothing left of the Orion ship but

some scattered, floating debris.

    "Direct hit!" the weapons officer said, unnecessari-

ly. "A brilliant maneuver, sir!"

    It was, indeed, a most unorthodox maneuver, Sulu

thought, as he shook his head in admiration of ScoWs

quick thinking. Certainly one for the books. However,

if he knew Scott, that would be the last thing on his

mind right now. And, a second later, Scott proved him

right as he pounded his fist furiously on the arm of the

captain's chair.

    "Damn it to hell/" the chief engineer swore. "This

wasn't necessary/"

    "Mr. Scott, the Komarah's in trouble," Lieutenant

Uhura said. "I'm picking up a distress signal. Her hull

has been breached and there are fires aboard. There

have been casualties. Commander Anjor has given the

order to abandon ship and he requests assistance."

    "The rash fool!" Scott said angrily. "Have all trans-

porter rooms stand by to beam the crew of the

Komarah aboard. As soon as they've all been safely

transported, we'll take the Komarah in tow." He

clenched his teeth and shook his head. "Och, there'll

be the devil to pay for this, I'll warrant! None of this

should have happened. What a bloody, awful waste!

Lieutenant Uhura, send word to the transporter

rooms and have them ask Commander Anjor to join

me on the bridge as soon as he comes aboard."

  "Aye aye, sir," Uhura replied.

    A short while later, the crew of the Komarah had all

been beamed safely aboard and Commander Anjor

               176

came onto the bridge of the Enterprise. He was

absolutely furious.

    "Why did you wait?" he demanded, storming up to

Scott. "Why did you not fire on the Orion when we

did? Look at my ship! This is all your fault! Why did

you hesitate and give them a chance to strike?"

    "You are on board the Enterprise now, Command-

er, not the Komarah," Scott reminded him evenly,

keeping his temper in check with an effort. He was

careful to keep his voice level, though the tension in it

was apparent to all who could hear him. "I may only

be acting captain, but I am in command here."

    Anjor stared at him angrily, his chest rising and

falling heavily, but he restrained himself from another

outburst. "Yes, of course," he said after a moment.

"My apologies, Mr. Scott. However, my ship has been

severely damaged, and that would never have hap-

pened had you supported me with your weapons!"

    "I had no just cause to fire on the Orion!" Scott

replied. "Nor, for that matter, had you! Aye, his ship

may have violated ParrJan space, but that's no cause

to open fire! We had no proof that he was smuggling

weapons to your rebels! You forced a fight when there

was no need for one!"

    "I disagree," said a voice from behind them. Scott

turned to see another Patrian officer coming out of the

turbolift and onto the bridge. "Commander Anjor

fired on the Orion ship because I ordered it."

"And who might you be?" Scott asked with a frown.

"My name is Captain Lovik," the officer said.

"But I thought that you were in command of the

Komarah, "Scott said, turning to Anjor with a puzzled

expression.

               177

    "Indeed, he is," Lovik replied before Anjor could

answer. "However, it is I who am in command of this

mission."

 "I don't understand," Scott said.

    "Captain Lovik is deputy commander of the

Mindcrime Unit of the Patrian police," Anjor ex-

plained. "As any case pertaining to the rebels falls

under his jurisdiction, he is technically in charge of

this mission."

    "And you ordered him to fire on the Orion?" Scott

asked, angrily turning toward Lovik.

    "I did," Lovik replied. "And before you continue,

Lieutenant Commander Scott, allow me to anticipate

you, for I have already perceived what you were about

to say. You were thinking that the attack on the Orion

ship was unprovoked and therefore inexcusable. You

were going to protest that by firing first, we had drawn

you into the conflict when, in fact, there was no legal

justification for your actions. Allow me to assure you

that nothing could be further from the truth."

    "What do you mean?" Scott asked, taken aback at

having his thoughts read by the Patrian.

    "The Orion was smuggling weapons to the rebels,"

Lovik said. "He had Klingon disruptors packed in the

cargo holds aboard his ship, enough to equip a small

army. Allowing those weapons to reach the rebels

would have had disastrous consequences for our gov-

ernment and for our entire society. They had to be

destroyed."

    "Now, wait just one minute," Scott said. "Are you

telling me that you were capable of reading the

Orion's mind over a comrn link? How can that be

possible?"

  "I hardly need justify myself to you, Lieutenant

               178

Commander Scott," Lovik replied, "but the fact is

that face-to-face, or within a reasonably close dis-

tance, I can read your thoughts as easily as you can

hear my voice. At a distance, I could not do so unless

you spoke or I had some visual cues from which I

could infer your thought patterns."

    "Infer?" Scott said with disbelief. "You had Com-

mander Anjor open fire on the Orion ship because you

inferred that they were smuggling weapons?"

    "The Orion's actions spoke for themselves," Lovik

replied. "His physical attitude and movements all

indicated duplicity, and by hearing his voice, I could

clearly tell that he was lying. And before you take

umbrage, as I see you are about to, let me assure you

that it was much more than simply guesswork on my

part. The Orion's vocal patterns gave me indirect

access to his thoughts, and it is within my purview to

enforce Patrian law and execute judgment in such

cases, in Pattiart space as well as on Patrian soil."

    "Well, that may be all well and good for you," Scott

said angrily, "but I'm no telepath and I canna' simply

take it upon myself to infer any such--"

    "If I may anticipate you once again," Lovik inter-

rupted, "you are not required to take anything upon

yourself, Lieutenant Commander Scott. In its current

mission, the Enterprise is functioning under Patrian

authority. Both Captain Kirk and the special Federa-

tion envoy, Ambassador Jordan, gave assurances to

the ParrJan Council that the Enterprise would support

the Patrian fleet in its efforts to patrol this sector and

prevent disruptor weapons from reaching our rebels.

We were assured of your cooperation in this matter.

Today, you have failed in that task, and your failure

has brought about extensive and possibly irreparable

179

damage to the Komarah, along with the deaths of at

least a dozen of her crew. There will be an accounting

for this, I can assure you."

    "Now, hold on just one minute--" Scott began,

turning red in the face, but Lovik did not give him a

chance to continue.

    "I do not wish to hear any of your excuses, Lieuten-

ant Commander Scott. Captain Kirk and Ambassador

Jordan shall hear of this, and the final disposition of

this matter shall rest with the Patrian Council. It

would be pointless to discuss this matter any further."

    Lovik beckoned to Commander Anjor and they left

the bridge together. Scott simply stood there, staring

after them, sputtering with outrage. "How do you like

the nerve of that guy?" he said. "He provokes an

attack upon his own ship from a superior vessel and

then turns around and blames us when he gets his

bloody backside shot offi"

    "Even if we'd tried to add our fire to theirs, there

was no way we could have done it before the Orion

opened up on the Komarah, "Sulu said. "The Patrians

never communicated their intent to us. They simply

opened fire on the Orion."

    "Based on nothing more than the word of a sup-

posed mind-reader," Scott said, clearly disgusted.

"He inferred that they were carrying disruptors! Aye,

but the only trouble is, there isn't any proof We just

blew a ship out of the sky for doing nothing more than

encroaching on Patrian space! How are we supposed

to explain that?"

    Sulu and the other members of the bridge crew

simply exchanged glances. They were all thinking

exactly the same thing. Scott was absolutely right.

There was no way to explain it. Regardless of what

18o

Patrian law said, the Federation Accords governing

interplanetary commerce and relations did not recog-

nize "telepathic inference" as proof of anything. Even

those cultures that were not signatories to the Federa-

tion Accords, such as the Orions, understood that

there were certain unwritten rules and unstated agree-

ments governing how interplanetary relations func-

tioned. One did not attack another vessel based upon

an intuition, telepathic or otherwise. Not unless one

wished to provoke a war.

    If the vessel they had just destroyed was an Orion

freebooter--as it had appeared to be and probably

was--then chances were that Orion would not lodge

any formal protests or complaints. If they had been

freebooters, then Orion wouldn't even know about the

vessel and its cargo, or its destination. Still, that didn't

change the fact that the Enterprise had fired on and

destroyed an Orion vessel without adequate provoca-

tion in the eyes of Federation law.

    From a purely pragmatic and a moral standpoint,

they could have done nothing else. The Orion had

been clearly in the wrong, and if they hadn't fired, the

Komarah would have been totally destroyed, along

with all her crew. They could not have simply stood by

and done nothing. But from another standpoint, they

had participated in an unprovoked attack upon an

Orion ship. And they had destroyed it. Scott was not

looking forward to explaining that to Captain Kirk.

181

Chapter Eight

HALF ALSEEP, Kirk heard his communicator beep, and

flipped it open.

  "Enterprise to Captain Kirk..."

    Kirk came fully awake to the sound of Uhura's

voice speaking in the darkness of his bedroom.

  "Enterprise to Captain Kirk... Come in, sir..."

    Kirk brought the communicator to his face. "Kirk

here. Go ahead, Lieutenant..."

    Scotty's voice came on. "Sir, there's been some

trouble .... We have had an engagement. We were

forced to fire upon an Orion vessel. The Orion ship

has been destroyed. The Komarah has been crippled

and we have it in tow."

    Kirk came fully awake instantly, sitting bolt upright

in bed. "Casualties, Mr. Scott?" he said, his first

concern for his crew.

182

    "Negative for the Enterprise, sir," Scotty replied.

"However, the Kornarah has sustained a dozen killed

and twenty-five wounded."

    Kirk was out of bed now and pulling on his uni-

form. "I want a complete report, Mr. Scott? he said,

tossing the communicator down on the bed as he got

dressed.

    By the time Scotty finished briefing him, Kirk

was fully dressed. He picked up the communicator.

"What kind of shape are the Patrian wounded in?"

he asked.

    "I haven't got all the particulars, sir," Scotty re-

plied, "but some of them are in pretty bad shape, and

I'm not sure if they can be moved or not. We could use

Dr. McCoy up here as soon as possible. The

Komarah's surgeon is not familiar with the equipment

in our sickbay."

    "Stand by, we'll be beaming up momentarily," Kirk

said.

    "Aye, sir, I'll have the transporter room standing

by," Scott replied.

    Kirk ran out of his room and down the corridor.

"Spock! Chekov! Wake up!" he shouted as he ran past

their rooms. He reached McCoy's room at the far end

of the hall and punched the signal on the door.

"Bones! Wake up! The Komarah's been hit!"

    From inside the room he heard a sudden flurry of

movement, and a few choice McCoy expletives. "Uh,

Jim," McCoy's voice rang out, "could you give us--I

mean me, a few minutes?"

    Kirk had been caught "en flagrante" enough times

to understand exactly what was going on. "Uh, sure,

Bones," Kirk said. "Catch up as fast as you can."

               183

     "Is something wrong, Captain?" Spock said, com-

 ing out of his bedroom. He was already fully dressed.

 "Is Dr. McCoy all right?"

    Chekov was right on Spock's heels, pulling on his

uniform blouse as he came out running out into the

hall. Muir and Jacob were right behind him.

    "Uh... no... that is, yes. Dr. McCoy..." Kirk

fumbled for words. "We'll... uh, wait for him in the

conference room."

    Spock raised his eyebrow in a puzzled fashion but

did not press Kirk for details, much to Kirk's relief.

They went down the hall to the conference room. A

few moments later McCoy entered, followed closely

by Secretary Wing. McCoy had a somewhat sheepish

expression on his face, but Wing looked perfectly

calm and composed. Kirk quickly told them all what

happened.

    "Dr. McCoy and I are beaming back up to the ship

at once," he said. "Mr. Spock, you'll be in charge

while we're away. If Iano arrives before we return,

please fill him in on what's happened."  "Yes, Captain," Spock said.

  "Where's the ambassador?" Kirk asked.

    "He's probably asleep or preparing for the morn-

ing's meeting," Wing replied. "They'll undoubtedly

know all about this by tomorrow morning, so he'll

want a complete report. I'll be back to give it to him as

soon as I've seen things for myself. We'll want to have

all the details firsthand when we meet with the Patrian

Council tomorrow."

    Kirk noticed that McCoy was purposely avoiding

his gaze. Wing was simply acting as if nothing at all

had happened. He flipped open his communicator.

Scotty came on.

184

     "Three to beam up, Mr. Scott," Kirk said. "Secre-

tary Wing will accompany us." "Aye, sir," Scotty said.

    A moment later they materialized in the transport-

er room aboard the Enterprise. Scotty was waiting

for them. They immediately made their way to sick-

bay.

    "Where's Commander Anjor?" Kirk asked as they

walked.

    "He's in sickbay, seeing to his wounded," Scott

replied tensely. His face was drawn and the strain on

him was obvious. "Captain, I feel just terrible about

this. If there was any way we could have avoided

this--"

    "You did what you had to do, Mr. Scott," Kirk said,

cutting him off. "There's no point in blaming yourself.

From what you've told me, the Komarah opened fire

on the Orion and they shot back before you had a

chance to do anything."

"I should have anticipated the possibility--"

"You followed procedure, Mr. Scott," Kirk said,

cutting him off again. He did not want Scotty punish-

ing himself for something he couldn't have helped.

"The Patrians brought this on themselves. According

to the facts you gave me, their attack was completely

un warrant ed."

    "I'm afraid that's not the way they see it, Cap'n,"

Scotty replied with a tight grimace.

    "Frankly, I don't care how they see it," Kirk

said curtly. "And I'm not going to stand still

for their holding my crew responsible for their ac-

tions. You are not at fault here, Mr. Scott. Under-

stand?"

               185

    "Aye, sir," Scotty said with a sigh. "But I fear this is

gonna play havoc with the negotiations," he added,

with an uneasy glance at Secretary Wing.

    "That can't be our concern right now," Kirk

said.

    "The captain's right, Mr. Scott," Wing added. "We

shall deal with the political fallout of this situation at

the appropriate time. Right now, we have to make

sure the wounded are taken care of."

    They came into sickbay and McCoy was immedi-

ately all business. "Nurse Chapel, I want a quick

report on what we've got here."

    "Dr. McCoy..." Anjor came up to him before

Nurse Chapel could reply. "I want you to make

certain that--"

    "Not now, Commander," McCoy said, cutting him

off abruptly. "The best thing you can do right now is

stay out of my way. Your people will get the best

possible care."

    "We've got nine Patrians in critical condition, Doc-

tor," Nurse Chapel said. "I'd classify a dozen as

serious, and the rest are either borderline or superfi-

cial."

"Where's the Komarah's surgeon?" McCoy asked.

"Over there, seeing to the critical cases," she re-

plied, pointing the Patrian doctor out. "I've been

assisting him to the best of my abilities, but I'm not

really familiar with Patrian biology and we're spread

pretty thin here."

    "Anything I can do, Bones?" Kirk asked with

concern. All around them the sickbay was crowded

with Patrian wounded, some unconscious, some

moaning and gasping in pain.

               186

    "Yes, get me every corpsman-rated crewman we've

got aboard," McCoy said. "Anyone who's had any

EMT or medical training. We're going to have our

hands full."

 "Scotty?" Kirk said.

    "I'm already on it, Cap'n," Scott replied. "I made

the announcement over the ship's intercom just be-

fore you came aboard."

 "Good man," Kirk said.

    The doors opened behind them and several male

and female crew members came in. "We came in

response to the announcement, sir," one of them said.

"There's more coming right behind us."

    "Good. Nurse, find out the level of their training

and assign them accordingly," McCoy said quickly.

As Nurse Chapel moved to comply, McCoy hurried

over to the Patrian surgeon. "I'm Dr. Leonard

McCoy, ship's surgeon," he said, introducing himself

to the Komarah's doctor. "These are your people,

Doctor. As of right now, you're in charge here. What

can I do to help?"

    "Thank you, Doctor," the Komarah's surgeon re-

plied, obviously relieved to have some assistance. "I

am Dr. Javik. Nine of the patients are very seriously

injured. I need help in stemming their internal

bleeding and I am not familiar with your instru-

ments .... "

    "Let's get out of their way," Kirk said to the others

as McCoy and Javik went to work. He led the others

out into the corridor.

    "Captain Kirk," Anjor said, "I want you to under-

standre"

  "Yes, I want to understand," Kirk said, interrupting

               187

him angrily. "I want to understand why one Orion

vessel, a ship that had taken no hostile actions and was

confronted by an armed Patrian cruiser and a Federa-

tion starship, presented enough of a threat that an

unprovoked and unilateral attack was deemed

necessary!"

    "Captain..." Secretary Wing cautioned him,

"perhaps this is not the best time to get into such

matters."

    "With all due respect--" Kirk began, but he didn't

get the chance to finish.

    "Commander Anjor fired on the Orion vessel on my

orders, Captain," Lovik said, approaching them. "Or-

ders that neither Commander Anjor nor myself are

required to justify to any diplomat or Federation

officer."

  "You must be Captain Lovik," Kirk said.

    "I am. And I intend to lodge a formal protest

with my government concerning the Enterprise's ac-

tions and the conduct of Lieutenant Commander

Scott."

    "Lieutenant Commander Scott was acting on my

orders," Kirk said, "and as captain, I am solely

answerable for the actions of my ship and the conduct

of my officers."

    "Then you shall answer for them, Captain Kirk,"

Lovik said.

    "Gentlemen, this is neither the time nor the place

for such discussions," Secretary Wing said, stepping

between them. "Captain Lovik, you may register

your formal protest with the Patrian Council at your

convenience. If you are unwilling to wait until you

can transport down to the surface, I am sure that

               188

Captain Kirk would gladly extend you the use

of this ship's communication facilities for that pur-

pose."

    "And if you're in a hurry, feel free to use our

transporter facilities to beam down to the surface,"

Kirk added. "I can have one of my officers escort you

there now, if you wish."

    "Am I to take it that you are ordering me off this

ship, Captain?" Lovik asked.

    "In the spirit of our cooperative venture, I am

merely offering you the use of our ship's facilities,

Captain Lovik," Kirk said in a clipped tone. "Howev-

er, you may take that any way you wish. I am

accountable to my superiors at Starfleet only for my

words and deeds, not for my thoughts."

    "In that case, Captain, would you be so kind as to

have me escorted to your transporter room?" Lovik

asked coldly.

  "Mr. Scott?" Kirk said.

  "Aye, Captain," Scott replied. "This way, sir."

    Lovik gave Kirk a hard look, then stiffly accompa-

nied Scotty to the transporter room.

    "I can see that diplomacy is not exactly your strong

suit, Captain," Secretary Wing observed dryly.

    "I don't have much patience with bureaucrats,"

Kirk replied with a grimace.

  "Including Federation diplomats?"

    "I didn't say that," Kirk replied. "However, as long

as you brought it up, I would appreciate a word with

you in private, if I may."

  "Of course," she said.

  "In my quarters?"

  "After you, Captain."

               lg9

    When they reached his quarters, Kirk stood aside

to let her enter first, then came in after her. As the

door slid shut behind them, he beckoned her to

the table. "Please, sit down. May I offer you a

drink?"

  "Thank you. Black coffee, please."

    Kirk punched the request into the synthesizer in the

bulkhead of his quarters, and a moment later brought

two steaming cups of black coffee over to the table. He

sat down across from her.

    "I'm sorry if I didn't handle that situation very well

just now--" he began.

    She made a dismissive motion with her hand.

"Never mind that," she said. "What was it you

wanted to speak to me about?"

    "I realize that this is hardly the best time for this,"

he said, "but... I wanted to talk to you about Dr.

McCoy," Kirk said.

    She raised her eyebrows. "I see," she said. Then,

with a smile, she added, "Are you going to ask me my

intentions, Captain?"

    Kirk did not return her smile. "As a matter of fact,

yes."

    "My God, you're serious, aren't you?" she said,

surprised.

 "If I may speak candidly..." Kirk said.

    "Well, if we're going to be candid with each other

about such personal matters, then perhaps you should

call me by first name," she said.

    "All right, Kim," Kirk said. He took a deep breath,

then plunged ahead. "Leonard McCoy is more than

merely my ship's surgeon. He's also one of my closest

friends."

190

    "Meaning no offense, Jim," she said quietly, "but

before you continue on this tack... are you sure that

this is any of your business?"

    "Perhaps not," Kirk admitted. "On one hand, your

personal relationships are really none of my concern.

But looking at it another way, anything that affects the

morale of my o~~~cers and crew also affects their

performance and the performance of this ship. From

that standpoint, it is very much my concern. The last

thing ! need right now is to have McCoy distracted or

upset."

    "All right, I will concede your point," she replied

with a nod. "Go on."

  "I trust that we may speak in confidence."

  "Of course."

    "This... thing... with you and McCoy..." he

began, somewhat awkwardly. He took a deep breath.

"I don't know how much you know about McCoy's

personal life..."

    "1 know that he was married once," she said, "and

that it ended in divorce. He didn't seem to want to

talk about the details."

    "That doesn't surprise me," Kirk said, nodding. "It

happened before he joined Starfleet. In fact, it was the

reason tbr his joining Starfleet." "He never mentioned that."

    "No, he wouldn't," Kirk said. "1 don't think he's

ever really gotten over it."

    "I had a feeling there was something..." she said.

"What happened?"

    "It's not really my place to discuss the details with

you," Kirk said. "He is my friend, and if he wanted

you to know, he would have told you. My point is that

               191

in all the years since, McCoy has never been seriously

involved with anybody else. He tends to affect a

somewhat gruff exterior, but he's really a very gentle

man. He can be quite vulnerable when it comes

to... certain things. He's capable of very deep feel-

ings."

    "I think I understand," she said. "You're concerned

that I might be selfishly toying with his affections, that

I might be using him?"

    "Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to read any-

thing into your motives," Kirk said.

    "But you are concerned," she said. And then she

smiled. "I think Leonard's very fortunate to have a

friend like you, Jim."

    "I consider myself very fortunate to have a friend

like McCoy," Kirk replied. "I just don't want to see

him hurt."

    She nodded and stared down into her coffee cup as

she gathered her thoughts. After a moment she said,

"I've devoted most of my life to my career, Jim,"

she said. "I haven't had much time for personal in-

volvements. The way I look, I've never suffered

from a shortage of male attention. Most of the time,

I've found it merely annoying and distracting.

That was a part of my life I had simply shut down.

Some men may find that hard to understand, but

I channeled all that energy into other directions.

! fell in love with my career, with my calling, my

duty .... "

    "Some men don't find that difficult to understand at

all," Kirk said sympathetically.

    "Yes," she said, meeting his gaze. "I can see that.

I've seen the way you care about your ship and crew.

               192

What we're talking about is a perfect example. In

some ways, we have a lot in common. With both of us,

our careers have always come first. Duty always comes

first. And responsibility."  Kirk nodded.

    "You've asked me some rather personal questions,

Jim. Now it's my turn to ask you. Have you ever found

yourself in a situation... with someone..." She

paused and moistened her lips. "... someone very

special... where you found yourself thinking how

things might have been different?"

    Kirk pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked down

at the table. "Yes... once or twice."

    "Then maybe you can understand how I feel about

McCoy," she said. "He's a very special man, Jim. I

saw that from the very start. He's touched something

in me, awakened feelings I haven't felt in a very long

time. This morning, when you... disturbed us--"

    Kirk cleared his throat uneasily. "Yes, well... I'm

very sorry about that..."

    "I'm not a prudish woman, Jim," she said, casually

dismissing the matter. "I am not easily shocked or

embarrassed. That wasn't my point. What I was going

to say was that we'd been talking most of the night. We

had both realized that this was more than something

casual, but at the same time, we also realized that

any sort of serious commitment was simply out of

the question. We had both been thinking about that,

but in fact Leonard was the one who brought it up."

She smiled. "He was concerned that I might be

hurt."

 Kirk smiled. "Yes, that would be just like him."

 "He has his duties and responsibilities," she said,

               193

"just as I have mine. And those duties and responsi-

bilities will take our lives in different directions. We

both know it won't last. But for a while--even if it's

only a short while--we intend to make the most of

it."

    Kirk smiled. "I appreciate your frankness. And I

think McCoy's a very lucky man."

    "Thank you. And now that we've got that out of the

way, we'd better discuss just what I'm going to tell

Ambassador Jordan about the engagement with the

Orion, and what we're going to put in our report to

Federation Headquarters."

    Spock sat before the computer terminal in the

meeting room of the legation, scanning the ParrJan

police files on the rebel terrorists with a thoughtful

expression. There was something illogical about it all,

and he wasn't quite sure what it was.

    Across from him, at the table, Chekov was at

another terminal, going over arrest reports and tran-

scripts of witness interrogations conducted by the

Patrian police. Specialist Muir and Yeoman Jacob

were with their counterparts, officers Jalo and Inal,

interviewing various rank-and-file Patrian police offi-

cers in an effort to assemble a complete profile on

what the Patrian authorities had done in dealing with

the crisis. Spock was trying to cover all the bases, but

he still felt that something was missing.

    "I still don't know exactly what it is we're looking

for, Mr. Spock," Chekov said, leaning back in his

chair wearily. "We have been at these files for hours

now, and we still don't seem to know much more than

when we started."

194

    "That, Mr. Chekov, is part of the problem," Spock

replied. "We seem to have a surfeit of data, but

precious little in the way of useful information.

Doesn't that strike you as rather incongruous?"

    Chekov looked perplexed. "All that tells me is that

the Patrian authorities have had very little success in

gathering information about the organization of the

rebel movement," he said. "Whoever their leaders

may be, they have managed to remain underground

and undiscovered."

    "Precisely," Spock said. "They have been most

secretive. And that, in itself, would seem incongruous

when one considers the length of time the rebels have

been active and how long the Patrian authorities have

been pursuing them."

Chekov frowned. "I'm afraid I do not understand."

"Any organized underground movement, no matter

how well-disciplined and tightly structured, is bound

to have its share of leaks, breakdowns, and defec-

tions," Spock replied. "No organization, no matter

how efficient, can be immune to the effects of ran-

dom chance. Simply put, Mr. Chekov, things go

wrong. And yet, despite all efforts by the Patrian au-

thorities, they have never succeeded in penetrating

the resistance movement, either through the agen-

cy of spies or informants, or making any truly sig-

nificant arrests. The rebel leaders are as unknown

now as they were at the beginning of this crisis. And

that seems particularly puzzling when one consid-

ers that the Patrian authorities employ telepathic

law enforcement agents in addition to their regular

police."

 Chekov frowned. "That does seem difficult to com-

                      195

prehend," he said. "How could anyone conceal infor-

mation from a telepath?"

    "Unless one possesses the mental discipline

of a Vulcan, one could not," Spock replied. "There-

fore, the possible conclusions are as follows: either

the rebel leaders and their immediate subordi-

nates who can identify them have found some means

to block or outwit the telepaths, or else they have

devisedsome foolproof method for avoiding

them."

"But how could they possibly do that?" Chekov

asked.

    Spock frowned. "I do not know, Mr. Chekov. At

least, not yet."

    However, a suspicion had arisen in his mind, based

on the evidence he was confronted with. What if the

Patrian authorities--or at least the Mindcrime Unit

--were not really trying to break the back of the

rebellion? If that was true, then it suggested that they

had a vested interest in its continuation. If so, then

there had to be some reason for it, and for the present,

Spock was at a loss to imagine what that reason might

be.

    "Are you on to something, Mr. Spock?" Chekov

said. "Have you discovered something in the rec-

ords?"

    "Not exactly, Mr. Chekov. There is nothing in the

files themselves that would seem to lead to any

definitive conclusion. However, there is an implica-

tion there, between the lines, so to speak."

    Spock had the ability to scan computer files much

more quickly than a human could, and so far he had

absorbed much more information than had Chekov

196

and the others. Eventually, a curious pattern had

begun to emerge, a pattern he had not discovered un-

til he went back and examined the records dealing

with the Patrian rebellion that predated the current

crisis.

    "Each police report I have so far examined clearly

gives the specifics of each incident, as well as the

names and designations of the officers involved,"

Spock said. "After going over several dozen of these

reports, I seem to have observed a pattern emerging.

And each time, it has been consistent."

"What sort of pattern?" Chekov asked, curious.

"In every arrest made by the regular Patrian police

force," Spock replied, "and in every documented

interrogation of witnesses, the information produced

was either inconclusive or else those arrested were

strictly lower echelon foot soldiers in the rebellion

who knew nothing of any consequence. In all those

cases, when I have followed up on the eventual

disposition, the guilty parties were subsequently con-

victed and jailed. Arrests were made, convictions

were secured, and there is every appearance that the

Patrian police have diligently been doing their job."

    "But you see something else?" Chekov asked.

"What have I missed?"

    "Perhaps nothing, Mr. Chekov," Spock replied. "At

least, nothing that becomes apparent on a straightfor-

ward examination of the files. However, you may

recall Lieutenant Iano told us that the rebels were

fanatics who generally did not allow themselves to be

taken alive."

    "Yes, I remember," Chekov said. And suddenly a

look of comprehension dawned. "But clearly this has

               197

not been the case. At least, not according to these

records. You think perhaps the police files have been

falsified?"

    "Perhaps. But let us proceed, for the moment, on

the assumption that they have not," Spock said. "The

majority of those rebels arrested by the regular

Patrian police did not take their own lives, nor were

any such attempts recorded in the files. On the other

hand, the ones who had committed suicide were

always those who had been taken into custody by the

Mindcrime Unit."

    "But if a rebel captive possessed information that

could damage the resistance or expose its leaders, the

telepaths could obviously detect it during an interro-

gation, correct?" Chekov said.

    "Correct, Mr. Chekov," Spock replied. "And by

committing suicide, a rebel could ensure that he

would take that information with him to his grave.

On the surface, it all seems to make perfect sense.

However, why is it that only those rebels who were

arrested by the Mindcrime Unit killed themselves?

What was to prevent telepaths from interrogating

those rebels who had been captured by the regular

police?"

    Chekov shook his head. "Nothing," he replied. "In

fact, according to the reports I have been checking,

that was exactly what happened. Following each arrest

made by the regular police, there was always an

interrogation, and an officer of the Mindcrime Unit

was always present as part of the interrogating team.

It appears to have been standard operating procedure,

and it makes sense. With a telepath present, it made

no difference whether the perpetrator was cooperative

t98

or not. However, because of the tight cell structure of

the rebel underground, nothing significant emerged

from those interrogations that would disclose the

rebel leaders."

    "Yet, in virtually every case where the Mindcrime

Unit made an arrest," said Spock, "or even attempted

to take rebels into custody, those rebels invaribly

committed suicide. What logical conclusion can be

drawn from this?"

    Chekov frowned. "I suppose one possible answer is

that the only arrests made by the regular Patrian

police were insignificant arrests, as appears to have

been the case, while the only arrests that couM pro-

duce useful information were made by the Mindcrime

Unit."

    "Perhaps," Spock said thoughtfully. "On one

hand, it could be inferred that the Mindcrime Unit,

possessing the marked advantage of telepathy,

invariably made more significant arrests, but then

that suggests that they simply didn't bother arrest-

ing those rebels who could be regarded as insignifi-

cant."

    "Well, that's possible," Chekov said. "Once a lower

echelon rebel was detected by the Mindcrime Unit,

it's possible they simply marked that individual for

surveillance, in the hope that he would lead them to

bigger game. Law enforcement agencies throughout

the universe often follow similar procedures."

    "However, to follow that line of thought through to

its logical conclusion," Spock said, "that seems to

imply that the regular Patrian police had never suc-

ceeded in making even one truly significant arrest that

was capable of damaging the rebel underground. Even

199

 if they were hopelessly inefficient, the odds would

 seem to argue against that. Random chance alone

 should have resulted in at least one, if not more,

 arrests that would produce some significant informa-

 tion capable of damaging the rebel underground. And

 yet, Mr. Chekov, according to these files, that has

 never happened. Not even once."

    Chekov frowned. "It does seem highly improba-

ble," he said.

    "It certainly does seem to defy the odds," Spock

replied. "And there is yet a further incongruity. If the

rebels captured by the Mindcrime Unit invariably

committed suicide, rather than be forced to divulge

any information, one would certainly think that great-

er precautions would have been taken to prevent that.

Indeed, if a prisoner was contemplating suicide, sure-

ly a telepath would be capable of detecting that

intent."

    "And yet, most of them still succeeded in killing

themselves somehow," Chekov said thoughtfully.

"But how? The files do not specify the details."

    "That, too, seems rather unusual," Spock said.

"One would think the details of the suicides would be

reported. However, the suicides are simply reported

as a fact, without any details as to how the prisoners

managed to kill themselves. And there seems to be no

logical explanation for that omission... unless they

were not suicides."

    "You think the Mindcrime Unit was simply execut-

ing rebels who fell into their hands?" Chekov asked.

He shook his head. "But even if that is what they were

doing, why bother to cover it up? Under the Patrian

law of Transgression by Intent, they had that author-

ity."

2OO

    "Indeed," Spock said. "And we have seen Lieuten-

ant Iano exercise it. Leaving aside questions of moral-

ity, under Patrian law, it is not illegal for an officer of

the Mindcrime Unit to summarily execute a criminal.

However, if that is what they were doing with the

rebels who fell into their hands, then why not simply

say so? And why execute only those rebels they

arrested, while allowing those arrested by the regular

police to live?"

    Chekov simply shook his head. If Spock was on to

something, whatever it was, he couldn't see it.

    Spock quit the files and cleared the computer dis-

play as Iano came into the conference room. He felt

the Patrian attempt to probe him and turned toward

him, raising an eyebrow.

    "If you persist in trying to accomplish that which

you know you cannot do, Lieutenant," Spock said,

"your efforts will only meet with repeated frustra-

tion."

    "Your pardon, Mr. Spock," Iano replied. "Merely

force of habit."

    "Indeed?" Spock said. "You did not think your

probe might be successful if you caught me off

guard?"

    Chekov watched silently and listened to the ex-

change with interest. He had marked the tension that

had developed between Spock and Iano, and he

wondered how it would resolve itself.

    Iano stared at him for a moment. "Perhaps you are

a bit of a tetepath yourself, Mr. Spock?"

    "Among my people, there is a technique known as

the Vulcan mind meld," Spock replied. "It is not

telepathy as you know it, rather, it is a temporary

               201

union of two minds, a blending of consciousness in

which two can become one. If you like, I would be

happy to demonstrate."

    Iano shook his head. "I think not. I prefer my

thoughts to remain my own."

    "I rather suspected you would say that," Spock

replied.

    "You trouble me, Mr. Spock," Iano said. "I do not

feel very comfortable with someone whose thoughts

are hidden from me. Especially someone who con-

ceals his thoughts on purpose."

    "I, too, prefer my thoughts to remain my own,"

Spock replied, throwing Iano's own words back at

him.

    "You don't like me very much, do you, Spock?"

Iano said.

    Spock raised an eyebrow. "Your question is irrele-

vant, Lieutenant. To like or dislike someone requires

an emotional response. I am Vulcan, and as such, I am

not a creature of emotion."

    "Indeed? Then your response to all individuals is

the same?"

    "No, that would mean that I lacked discrimination.

My responses to different individuals are based purely

on logic."

    "I see. And what is your 'logical' response to me, I

wonder?" Iano asked sarcastically.

    "That you are a creature of emotion," Spock re-

plied. "One who does not trust easily or often, and

one who is not comfortable unless he can control or

otherwise manipulate those who surround him."

    "Well," Iano said, "that would, of course, be a

logical description of a law enforcement officer, would

               202

it not?" He quickly changed the subject. "Has there

been any word from Captain Kirk aboard the

Enterprise.;"'

    "Not since he beamed back up with Undersecretary

Wing and Dr. McCoy," Spock replied. "If necessary, I

could contact the ship and--"

    "No, never mind," Iano said. "I'm sure he has his

hands full right now. The story about what happened

to the Komarah is just now being reported in our

media. I'm afraid it's engendering some strong criti-

cism of the Federation. I am not sure how it's going to

affect the ongoing negotiations."

    "That is not really our concern," Spock said. "Am-

bassador Jordan will undoubtedly take up that ques-

tion with the Council this morning. I am more

concerned with the matter of the disruptors in the

possession of your rebels."

    "And what progress have you made in your investi-

gation?" Iano asked.

    "So far, none of any consequence," Spock replied.

It was, strictly speaking, the truth. What he had

discovered would remain of little consequence until

he found some hard facts to back up his suspicions.

    "That does not surprise me," Iano said. "You will

not learn anything new by going over old police

reports. These cases are solved out in the streets. That

is where you will find the rebels, Mr. Spock. Not

there," he added, indicating the computer terminal.

Then he suddenly winced and brought his hands up to

his temples.

"Is something wrong, Lieutenant?" Chekov asked.

"Merely a headache, Mr. Chekov," Iano replied

irritably. "It has been growing steadily worse ever

               203

since this case began. And so far, the Federation has

done little to bring it to a speedier conclusion."

    "We remain at your disposal, Lieutenant," Spock

replied. "We are more than willing to assist you in any

way we can."

    "Then I suggest you join me on patrol," Iano said,

rubbing his temples. "Our last encounter with the

rebels did not prove very fruitful. Let us see if we

cannot provoke another."

Chapter Nine

204

THE DOOR TO SICKBAY opened and Kirk came in. He

spotted McCoy sitting at his desk, intent on the

display screen of his terminal. "How's it going,

Bones?" he said. "You look tired."

    "I am tired," McCoy replied, leaning back in his

chair with a sigh. "I sent Dr. Javik down with the last

of the wounded that we transferred to the planet

surface. We managed to get most of them stabilized,

but I'm afraid we lost one."

    "I'm sorry to hear that," Kirk said. "Under the

circumstances, I'd say you did extremely well. Maybe

you should go and get some rest."

    "I just couldn't figure out why we lost him," McCoy

said.

    "I'm sure you did the best you could, Bones," Kirk

said, trying to reassure him.

"No, you don't understand," McCoy said. "He

205

wasn't even one of the critical cases. He wasn't that

seriously injured. Jim, I want you to see something."

He punched up a display on the screen as Kirk looked

over his shoulder. "This is a scanner image of a

normal Patrian brain, taken from one of the other

patients." Then he punched up another image. "And

this is from the one we lost."

    Kirk stared at the screen, uncomprehending. He

shook his head. "I don't get it. What am I looking

for?"

    "Try it this way," McCoy said, punching up a split

screen display that directly compared the two separate

brain scans.

    Kirk stared at the display for a moment, then

nodded. "This one's different," he said, pointing to

the one on the left.

    "That's right," McCoy said. "This cranial lobe has

been artificially enlarged." He pointed to the screen.

"And this organ over here, which seems to serve some

of the same functions as our pituitary gland, has been

surgically altered. What's more, the chemical compo-

sition of this brain is markedly different from this

normal one, indicating chemically forced growth.

Jim... this is how they create their telepaths."

    "You mean this man was a member of the

Mindcrime Unit?"

     "Placed in with the crew," McCoy said. "And his

wounds were not what killed him." "What did?"

 "It was the procedure that made him telepathic."

 Kirk stared at him. "Are you sure?"

    "There can be no doubt about it," McCoy replied.

"They altered his brain chemistry through surgery

and chemical treatments, inducing growth and a

206

corresponding increase in brain function. The only

trouble was, the procedure triggered off a chemical

chain reaction. In essence, Jim, his brain simply

self-destructed."

    "What about the other telepaths?" Kirk asked.

"Could this same thing happen to them?"

    "It's practically inevitable," McCoy said. "Each

individual's brain chemistry is different to some de-

gree, but sooner or later the treatment will trigger offa

vicious cycle of malignant growth that is absolutely

lethal. The effect is similar to that of a virus that could

remain dormant in the system for years and then

suddenly become active. And once it starts, it pro-

ceeds so rapidly that there's just no stopping it. It

could be all over in a matter of days, or even hours.

Jim, each of the Patrian telepaths who's had this

operation is a walking time bomb."

 "How long?" Kirk asked with concern.

    McCoy shook his head. "There's no predicting it. I

can't tell at this point what other factors could be

involved. My best guess is that someone who's had

this operation could remain normal for years, and

then suddenly, without warning, the cycle will be

triggered. The length of time could depend on health

and general level of fitness, the amount of stress an

individual's exposed to... hell, a mild case of the flu

could be all it takes to set this thing off."

 "What would be the symptoms?" Kirk asked.

    "It would depend on how quickly the disease

progressed," McCoy replied. "It could strike so quick-

ly that it could cause a massive brain hemorrhage, and

the victim would simply drop dead before he noticed

anything was wrong. Or there could be a gradual

onset. The initial symptoms would probably be mi-

               207

graine headaches, increasing in severity at a rate that

would correspond with the speed of the malignant

growth cycle. If death did not occur soon afterward,

the victim would probably start to behave erratically,

experience personality changes, perhaps even go in-

sane. Schizophrenia, delusions of persecution..."

He shrugged. "There would be bleeding at the final

stages, but by that point it would be only a matter of

minutes or even seconds until it was all over."

    "My God," Kirk said. "Can anything be done? Can

the procedure be reversed?"

    "That's what I've been trying to figure out," McCoy

said. 'Tll need to check my findings with Dr. Javik to

be absolutely certain, but I think it's possible... if we

can get to these people in time, before the disease is

triggered off. Once it starts..." He shook his head.

"Maybe, if it can be caught in its early stages, it still

might not be too late. But right now, Jim, I just don't

know."

    "We'll have to get back down to the planet surface

right away, Bones," Kirk said. "Iano's got to know

about this."

    "I just can't believe they haven't figured this out for

themselves," McCoy said. "I mean, I suppose it's

possible that this could have been the first case, but

that would seem highly unlikely. Surely there must

have been other cases among the Mindcrime Unit by

this time."

      "Perhaps there have been," Kirk said, "and they've

been covering it up."  "But... why?"

    "For the same reasons cover-ups always occur,"

Kirk replied. "Either somebody's got something to

gain, or else they've got something to lose. And one

               208

way or the other," he added grimly, "I intend to find

out."

    Night was falling on the city. Iano's police flier

wound its way through the airborne traffic lanes about

sixty feet above the ground. Spock sat beside him and

Chekov sat in the rear. Muir and Jacob were still back

at the legation, conducting interviews along with Jalo

and Inal. Iano thought that it was all a waste of time.

    "I don't see what you hope to gain from questioning

police officers," he said irritably. "Anything they

might have learned about the rebel underground from

incidents in which they were involved was filed in

their reports. You've been studying those. It's merely a

wasteful duplication of effort."

    "On the contrary, Lieutenant," Spock said. "It is

never wasteful to be thorough and methodical. I have

frequently seen official records that were accurate in

terms of their content, yet incomplete in terms of

reporting all the details of an event. Official reports

are, by their very nature, merely a summary of events.

Rarely will they contain a detailed account of what

actually occurred."

    "And you hope to discover some small detail that

might somehow have been overlooked?" Iano said

dubiously.

    "Small details can often add up to important

findings," Spock replied. "It is often the small detail

that can make all the difference in a complex investi-

gation."

    "If you ask me, the only thing that would make any

useful difference would be a supply of your phaser

weapons for our officers," Iano replied.

 "Undoubtedly, that would make a difference,"

209

Spock conceded. "However, that is a question that

will have to be taken up by those in higher positions of

authority than ourselves."

    "In other words, we join your Federation and

accept your rules, and then we might get what we

need, is that it?" Iano asked scornfully.

    "The Federation does not resort to using pressure to

induce people to join, Lieutenant," Chekov said stiff-

ly. "The Federation's chief concern is to avoid inter-

ference with other cultures, not exercise control over

them."

 "I suppose you really believe that," Iano said.

    "It is something that we all believe and live by,"

Spock said quickly, before Chekov could reply with

an angry rejoinder. He gave the young helmsman a

warning glance. Iano's behavior was becoming in-

creasingly confrontational for some reason. Probably

it was the stress of the investigation, Spock thought.

They didn't seem to be making any significant prog-

ress, and Iano was undoubtedly getting pressure from

his superiors. To Iano's way of thinking, they were

outsiders who were only in the way. Antagonizing him

would certainly not help the situation.

    "We have been in this area before," Spock said,

recognizing some familiar details of the neighbor-

hood.

 "We are going back to the Arena Club," Iano said.

    "You have reason to suspect a rebel presence

there?" Spock asked.

    "I am still seeking the suspect named Rak Jolo,"

Iano replied. "I have reason to believe that he fre-

quents the Arena Club. What's more, the last time we

were there, I picked up a telepathic impression, but it

               210

was only fleeting and I was unable to focus on it in the

crowd. And then I became distracted."

"Yes, I seem to remember," Chekov said flatly.

Spock shot him another warning glance, but Iano

ignored the comment and whatever Chekov must

have been thinking.

    "I suspect that the Arena Club may be a gathering

place for rebels," Iano said. "It is dark, noisy, and

always crowded. It would make an ideal contact point

for them."

    He brought the flier in for a landing outside the

club. It was still early and the place was closed.

However, the staff had already arrived and were at

work inside. Iano used his police credentials to get

them in, where he demanded to see the manager. The

nervous employee who admitted them told them that

the manager had not yet arrived, and Iano was appar-

ently satisfied it was the truth and that the worker

knew nothing that would be of any use to them.

    "I intend to search the premises," he told the

worker. "When the manager arrives, I wish to see him

at once, you understand?"

    "Yes, Officer, certainly," the anxious employee re-

plied. "We don't want any trouble."

    Spock could see that the employee was clearly

afraid of Iano. He saw the same reactions among the

other employees of the club as they began to search

the place. Their search, Spock realized, was really

nothing more than an excuse for Iano to go through

the club and use his telepathic ability on the employ-

ees. They realized it, too, for their reactions were all

quite similar. When they saw him, they stopped

whatever they were doing and simply froze, staring at

               211

Iano with fear and apprehension. They knew that if

they tried to rush off and avoid him, they would

appear guilty, but at the same time the idea of having

their thoughts ransacked by a telepath was obviously

frightening to them. Nor could Spock blame them for

the way they must have felt.

    As they entered the kitchens of the club, one worker

suddenly saw Iano, dropped the tray of dishes he was

carrying, and took off running toward the back. Iano

shouted for him to stop, drew his weapon and imme-

diately gave pursuit.

    Spock and Chekov followed him past the stunned

kitchen workers, who simply stood there immobile as

they rushed past. The fleeing suspect had a head start

on them as he bolted down a corridor at the back of

the kitchen and down a dark flight of stairs. They

could hear his running footsteps ahead of them as

they plunged down the stairs after him, with Iano

leading. When they reached the bottom, they turned

and came into the darkened basement. Iano found a

light panel and turned it on.

    A series of lights came on in the ceiling, one after

the other, revealing a cavernous chamber containing

large pipes and boilers and a row of generators. Spock

had been here before, though he had come down

another set of stairs last time. Ahead of them they

could see the large, monolithic towers that rose up

through the floor of the club. Part of the basement was

divided into rooms where the weapons for the game

were stored and where the arena players could change

and shower. There were a lot of places for someone to

hide.

  "Spread out and draw your weapons," Iano told

                       212

them. "I want Jolo alive, if possible, but don't take any

chances. The rebel won't hesitate to shoot."

  "Phaser on stun, Mr. Chekov," Spock said.

  "Aye, sir."

    "And take care that you don't shoot me while

you're at it," Iano added dryly.

    Chekov looked as if he were about to give a smart

rejoinder, but he kept silent at a glance from Spock,

who realized that it was all probably pointless. Iano

could undoubtedly tell what the young ensign was

thinking. They spread out slightly, keeping one anoth-

er in sight, and moved slowly and cautiously through

the basement, listening for the slightest sound. The

only thing they heard was the hum of the machinery.

    They carne to the large arena towers and split up to

go around them. Spock beckoned Chekov one way

while he went the other. Iano was a bit ahead of them,

but still in sight. Spock listened intently for the sound

of movement, but with the noise from the machinery,

it was difficult to tell if their quarry was nearby or not.

Spock did not relish the thought of a disruptor being

fired among all these pipes and boilers. In this situa-

tion, the suspect had the advantage. As an employee,

he was undoubtedly familiar with this place.

    Iano cautiously moved into the players' changing

rooms, with Chekov going in behind him to provide

cover. Spock remained outside to watch the door, in

case anyone came in behind them. Suddenly, he heard

a soft footstep right behind him. He turned quickly,

bringing up his phaser, and then felt a sharp blow to

his head.

    He staggered, dropping his phaser, and through

blurred vision, managed to catch a quick glimpse of

               213

warning was issued to ensure that the building would

be evacuated. And in past armed confrontations with

police, civilians were never fired upon. If there was

any danger of civilians being hit by stray fire, the

rebels always immediately withdrew. The consensus

of opinion among most of the officers we interviewed

was that the rebels were targeting only the police and

scrupulously avoiding injuring the general populace."

    "But that doesn't fit the pattern we've observed,"

Kirk said.

    "No, sir, it doesn't," she replied. "Since the disrup-

tors have appeared, there has been a change in that

pattern. While incidents of rebel attacks where only

police or government property was targeted have

continued, there have also been incidents in which

civilians have been harmed, sometimes as the result of

an explosion, sometimes as a result of being directly

targeted, as in the recent hostage situation. And it

seems that civilians have been harmed only in those

incidents involving the use of the disruptors."

    "I see," Kirk said. "And what do you and Mr. Muir

infer from this, Yeoman?"

    She shook her head, looking puzzled. "We're not

sure, sir," she replied, "but we've considered two

possible explanations. One is that the rebels have not

yet gained sufficient skill in the useof the disruptors,

and cannot control them to the extent of making sure

that there are no civilian casualties."

    "They seemed to have gained sufficient skill accord-

ing to my observations," Kirk said dryly. "And the

other explanation?"

    "At this point, sir, it's really only a theory," she

replied cautiously, "but the evidence would seem to

suggest the possibility of two separate rebel groups,

216

one more indiscriminately violent than the other,

each with their own separate organization, only one of

which is armed with the disruptors."

    "Yes, I suppose it's possible," Kirk said thoughtful-

ly. "Such groups often have splinter factions, in which

there is a division of opinion as to their methods.

There are always those who are more militant, who

don't think the others are going far enough. However,

if that is in fact the case, then I'm afraid that's not

going to make our job any easier. And right now,

we've got a much more pressing problem."

    He flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to Spock,

come in."

  There was no answer.

  "Kirk to Spock, are you receiving me?"

  "Ensign Chekov here, Captain."

 "What's happening, Mr. Chekov? Where's Spock?"

 There was a brief pause. "They've got him, sir."

 "What? Who's got him?"

 "The rebels, sir."

 "Good God," McCoy said.

    "Quiet, Bones," Kirk said. "I want a full report,

Mr. Chekov."

    "We were accompanying Lieutenant Iano on a

search of the premises of the Arena Club, Captain,"

Chekov said. "While we were there, one of the em-

ployees of the establishment bolted when he saw us,

and we gave pursuit. It was a suspect Lieutenant Iano

had been seeking. We followed the suspect into the

basement of the club, where we lost him. We had gone

in to search the area set aside for the players to change,

and Mr. Spock remained behind, watching the door.

While we were inside, somebody bolted the door on us

from the outside and barricaded it. By the time we

217

broke out, Mr. Spock was gone. We searched the

entire place, Captain, but there was no sign of him.

We found some blood on the floor, and a piece of

metal pipe with blood on it, but that was all. It was

Vulcan blood, sir. I'm very sorry--"

    "Get ahold of yourself, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said,

though he suddenly felt as if the bottom had dropped

out of his stomach. "Where are you now? Where's

Iano?"

    "He's directing a police search of the area, Cap-

tain," Chekov replied. "There must have been a

hidden way out of the basement, because none of the

people in the club saw anything. What are your orders,

sir?"

    "Get back here as soon as you can," Kirk said.

"If lano can't bring you back, have him get some-

one to drop you off at the legation. There's not

much more that you can do there now. Leave it to

the police. If there's any word, I'm sure they'll let

us know."

 "Aye aye, sir."

 "Kirk out."

    He snapped shut his communicator, his lips com-

pressed into a tight grimace. For a moment no one

spoke. Then Kirk broke the silence himself.

    "Chances are he's still alive," he said. "If they

wanted him dead, they would have simply shot him,

not clubbed him with a metal pipe. He'd be worth a

lot more to them alive than dead."

"What are we going to do, Jim?" McCoy asked.

"For the moment, there seems to be nothing we can

do, except wait," Kirk said. "And I'm not very good at

waiting," he added grimly.

 "Jim," Jordan said, coming into the meeting room,

               218

followed by Muir, "we've got a major problem on our

hands."

    "If you don't mind, Bob," Kirk said, holding up his

hand, "I've got problems of my own right now."

    "Well, whatever they are, they're simply going to

have to wait," Jordan said. "The actions of Chief

Engineer Scott, whom you had left in command of the

Enterprise in your absence, have resulted in a major

diplomatic incident. Our negotiations have just about

collapsed. I'm holding you personally responsible. It

was all I could do to--"

    "Damn your negotiations, Jordan? Kirk said, grab-

bing the startled man by his lapels. "They've got my

executive officer!"

    "Jim..." McCoy said, putting his hand on Kirk's

shoulder gently, but firmly. "Take it easy. There's no

way he could have known."

    "Take your hands off me," Jordan said stiffly.

"You've just gone way over the line."

    Kirk released his old friend with a grimace of

disgust.

    "Ambassador, we've just learned that Captain

Kirk's first officer has been abducted by the rebels,"

Secretary Wing said. "And that's not even the half of

it. There's a lot you don't know. We're all under a

strain. Fighting amongst ourselves is not going to help

Mr. Spock."

    "I see," Jordan said. "Well, I'm sorry to hear about

Mr. Spock, Jim, but our first priority has to be the

successful completion of our negotiations for Patrian

membership in the Federation. I don't need to tell you

what's at stake, not only for ourselves, but for the

Patrians as well. Mr. Spock is a Federation officer. He

knew what the risks were when he enlisted."

219

    "So we're just supposed to write him off, is that it?"

McCoy said angrily.

 "Over my dead body," Kirk said.

    "Leonard, Jim... please," Secretary Wing said.

She turned back to Jordan. "Ambassador, we're all

supposed to be a team on this."

    "That was my general impression," Jordan said,

glancing from her to the others. "But you seem to have

chosen sides."

    "Oh, don't be childish," she snapped back, losing

her temper. "So you've taken a small blow to your

ego. So what? As you yourself just pointed out, there

are a lot more important things at stake here. Aside

from the news about Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy has just

discovered that the procedure used to create telepaths

for the Mindcrime Unit is lethal. Every one of them

stands in danger of losing his life at any time."

    "Don't you think that's rather melodramatic?"

Jordan replied. "The Mindcrime Unit has been in

existence for over a decade."

    "And the clock's been ticking all this time," McCoy

said. "Besides, we don't know how many fatalities

there may have been in all this time. It's possible that

any deaths were covered up."

    "If, indeed, that is the case, Dr. McCoy," Jordan

replied, "then it is nevertheless none of our concern."

    "None of our concern?" McCoy said, shocked. "My

God, you can't be serious!"

    "I assure you that I am quite serious," Jordan

replied. "Such a situation would be strictly an internal

matter that would concern the Patrian authorities. If

you have documented medical findings capable of

proving your assertions, then you can report them

through me to the Patrian Council. What they do with

               220

that information is entirely up to them, Doctor. We

are not here to investigate any cover-ups, whether real

or imagined. We are here to successfully conclude

these negotiations. That, and only that, Dr. McCoy, is

our responsibility."

    "What about the rebels and their disruptors?" Kirk

said tersely. "Or have you forgotten about that?"

    "I have not forgotten," Jordan replied, "but neither

have I lost my sense of perspective. Our involvement

in that investigation is purely a courtesy to the Patrian

authorities, a gesture of goodwill intended to further

the negotiations. Your efforts in that regard, Jim, are

of purely secondary importance."

    "I see," Kirk said, barely restraining his temper.

"Well, your 'gesture of goodwill' just may get my first

officer killed."

    "If that should come to pass, then it would certainly

be regrettable," Jordan said, "but it must not deter us

from our mission."

    "Our mission?" McCoy said. "I don't think it's the

mission you really care about, Ambassador. All you're

concerned about is your career!"

    Jordan looked as if he had been slapped. "I've given

you a lot of latitude, McCoy, for the sake of my old

friendship with the captain," he said stiffly, "but

you've been a disruptive influence ever since the start

of this mission. I've just about run out of--"

    "All right, that's enough," Kirk interrupted impa-

tiently. "This isn't getting us anywhere. I didn't want

to say this, Bob, but you've changed. The Bob Jordan I

used to know was a very different man. I don't know

what the hell happened to him. Somewhere along the

line, he became just another feather-bedding bureau-

crat, taking refuge behind policy and regulations and

221

playing it safe every chance he gets, never making any

tough decisions for fear they might bounce back on

him. I don't know who you are anymore, Bob. But I

don't like what I see."

    "I don't know what you're talking about, Jim,

butw"

    "Don't you? I spoke to Mr. Scott when I went back

aboard the Enterprise. You're so quick to condemn

and put all the blame on him, but the fact is that he

called you when they intercepted the Orion ship, but

you avoided making a decision. You put all the

responsibility right back on his shoulders, and when

he did the only thing he could have done, you decided

to cover your own ass at his expense. Well, I'm not

about to let you hang one of my officers out to dry just

because you didn't have the backbone to make a tough

decision! As of right now, I'm taking charge of this

mission."

    "You?" Jordan said with outrage. "On what author-

ity/"

    "Starfleet General Order 29, paragraph B, subsec-

tion 3," Kirk said. "I know it's been a while since you

served on active duty, so I'll refresh your memory.

Quote: in the event of any hostile, life-threatening

actions against a Federation starship or Starfleet per-

sonnel during a diplomatic support mission, it shall

be up to the discretion of the ranking Starfleet officer

to assume command and either abort said mission or

take whatever actions he deems necessary to neutral-

ize the threat. Unquote. The lives of my officers are

being threatened, and I hereby exercise my authority

under General Order 29 to assume command of this

mission."

  Jordan stared at him coldly, then turned to Wing.

                       222

"I'll be in my quarters, composing my report to

Starfleet and Federation Headquarters. I would great-

ly appreciate it if you could join me there for a

conference at your earliest convenience."

    With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of

the room.

    "You shouldn't have done that," she said to Kirk. "I

think you're making a very serious mistake."

"You're entitled to that opinion," Kirk said flatly.

"I just hope you know what you're doing," she said.

"I'm concerned about Mr. Spock as well, but I'm also

concerned about this mission. I have to be. You had

better be very sure of your ground, Captain."

She turned and followed Jordan out of the room.

"That was a handy thing, your remembering that

regulation," McCoy said. "Your quoting it that way

shut Jordan's act right down."

    "I hate to admit it, Captain," Yeoman Jacob said,

looking perplexed, "but I've never even heard of

General Order 29."

    "That's because there isn't one, Yeoman," Kirk

said. "I made it up."

    She stared at him with disbelief, as if she wasn't

sure she had heard him correctly. "You made it up?"

Belatedly, she added, "Sir?"

    "That's right, Yeoman," Kirk said. He smiled wry-

ly. "You see, unlike you, no diplomat in my experi-

ence has ever had the guts to ad~nit being ignorant of

anything."

 "But... what if they check, sir?" she said.

    "It was a calculated risk," Kirk replied. "When you

bluff, bluff big."

    "Do not play poker with this man," McCoy said to

her with a grin.

               223

    "But, sir," Muir said with a stricken expression,

"how can you possibly hope to get away with this? You

could be court-martialed!"

    "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, Mr. Muir,"

Kirk replied. "Meanwhile, we've bought ourselves--

and Mr. Spock--some time. And right now, that's all

that matters."

"All right, so what's our next move?" McCoy asked.

"To a large extent, that depends on what Jordan

does," Kirk said. "Right now, he's probably fit to be

tied. Eventually, one of two things is going to happen.

Either he'll send a message to Starfleet, hoping to get

them to override my decision, or else he'll start

racking his brain to come up with a way to circumvent

General Order 29."

"But there is no General Order 29!" Muir said.

"Exactly, Mr. Muir," Kirk said, "but then he

doesn't know that. And he won't know it unless he

beams back up to the ship and uses the computer to

consult Starfleet regulations."

    "But, sir, what's to prevent him from doing that?"

Yeoman Jacob asked.

    "This," Kirk said, flipping open his communicator.

"Kirk to Enterprise."

 "Scott here, Cap'n."

    "Mr. Scott, the Enterprise appears to be having a

transporter malfunction."

    "There must be some mistake, Cap'n," Scott re-

plied. "There's nothing wrong with the transporters!"

    "I'll say again, Mr. Scott, there appears to be a

transporter malfunction. Do you get my drift?"

    "Aye... I think I understand, sir," Scott replied.

"Exactly how long do you think this... appearance

may persist?"

               224

    "Until 1 tell you otherwise, Mr. Scott. Mr. Spock

has been captured by the rebels, and if we're going to

get him back, we'll have to stall for time. For the

present, this apparent malfunction will, unfortunate-

ly, prevent either Secretary Wing or Ambassador

Jordan from beaming aboard the ship. In the event

they request to beam back up, you will, needless to

say, assure them that everything possible is being

done to remedy the situation."

 "Aye, Cap'n. I get your drift."

    "I thought you would, Mr. Scott. Meanwhile, I want

you to start a scanner sweep of the city and see if you

can locate Spock. There's only one Vulcan on the

planet surface. Program the ship's scanners to search

for his life-form reading and filter out all Patrian

life~forms."

     "Aye, but in an area that size, and so densely

populated, that could days, Cap'n!" Scott replied.

  "Make it hours, Mr. Scott. Kirk out."

    "That was very sneaky, sir," Yeoman Jacob said

with a grin.

    "I prefer to call it 'creative,' Yeoman," Kirk replied

w/th a straight face.

  "What happens now, Captain?" Muir asked.

    "We wait, Mr. Muir," Kirk replied. "Maybe we'll

get lucky with those scanner sweeps. But if not, and if

I'm reading this situation correctly, we still won't have

to wait very long. I think we could all use some

coffee."

  "I'11 get it, sir," Yeoman Jacob said.

    Ten minutes later Chekov arrived. However, he

didn't have much new information to report.

    "The police are searching the entire area where Mr.

Spock had disappeared, Captain," he said, "but so far

               225

they have discovered nothing. Lieutenant Iano asked

me to inform you that he was personally taking charge

of the search and would not rest until Mr. Spock was

found. He also asked me to tell you that he believes

the rebels wilt keep Mr. Spock alive, and that they will

most likely use him as a hostage to make certain

demands."

    "I'm counting on that, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said.

"I'm counting on that very much indeed."

     His communicator signal sounded and he quickly

raised it and flipped it open. "Kirk here," he said.

  "Spock here, Captain."

    "Spock! Are you all right? Where are you?" He

quickly gestured to Chekov and pointed at his com-

municator. Chekov immediately realized what he

meant, flipped open his own communicator, moved to

a far corner of the room and called the ship.

    Suddenly, a new, unfamiliar voice came over Kirk's

communicator. "He is quite well, Captain Kirk, with

the exception of some bruises and several cuts on his

head. Vulcans seem to be a tough species."

    "Who is this?" Kirk demanded. The voice sounded

vaguely familiar, somehow, but he couldn't place it.

    "Never mind who this is," the voice replied. "If you

want to see your first officer alive again, you will listen

very carefully and do exactly as I say. You will leave

your present location and proceed alone and on foot

to the Central Plaza square. You will have precisely

twenty minutes to reach that location, so you had best

not waste any time. Once you reach the square, you

will be contacted again. You will be watched. If there

is anyone following you, the Vulcan dies. If you

attempt to communicate with anyone, the Vulcan

               226

dies. And if I even smell the faintest hint of any

trickery, the Vulcan dies. Understood?"

    "Understood," Kirk replied. "Let me speak with

Spock again."

 The contact was abruptly broken.

    "Surely you're not thinking of doing as they say?"

McCoy said.

    "I have absolutely no intention of doing as they

say," Kirk replied. He changed the channel on his

communicator and punched in the scrambler frequen-

cy. "Kirk to Enterprise. Come in, Scotty."

    A moment later the reply came. "Scott here, sir.

Sorry for the delay, Cap'n, but it took a moment to

switch to scrambler frequency."

  "Have you got him, Scotty?"

  "Aye, Cap'n, I've got him."

    Chekov grinned. The moment Kirk signaled him,

he had called the Enterprise and had Scott home in on

Spock's communicator signal. And unless the rebels

knew the code for switching to scrambler frequency,

they could not use Spock's communicator to monitor

their transmissions.

    "Lock in transporter coordinates, Mr. Scott," Kirk

said, "and have a full complement of Security stand-

ing by in the transporter room, phasers on stun. As

soon as they're in position, beam up everyone at those

coordinates. Let me know as soon as you've got them

all aboard. Kirk out."

    "Nicely done, sir," Muir said with admiration,

perceiving what Kirk intended.

    "That's going to be one very surprised group of

rebels," McCoy said.

 "Let's just hope like hell they haven't got one of

               227

those interference generators set up wherever they

are," Kirk replied. "If they do, we're in a lot of

trouble."

    They waited tensely for several moments, then

Scotty called back.

  "Enterprise to Cap'n Kirk."

 "Have you got them, Scotty?"

    "Aye, sir, we've got 'em! And a mighty angry bunch

they are too!"

 "How's Spock? Is he all right?"

    "He's got a bloody bandage on his head, Cap'n, but

otherwise he appears none the worse for wear."

    "All right, Scotty, stand by to beam me up," Kirk

said. "Once I'm back aboard, our transporter will

start having those problems once again."  "Aye, Cap'n. Standing by."

    Kirk turned to the others. "I want a chance to talk

to those rebels," he said, "but as soon as Iano finds out

we've got them in custody, he'll want us to turn them

over. Legally, we have to comply, and there's no way

we'll be able to keep him from finding out. He'll know

immediately. So we'll have to stall. Bones, you're in

charge until I return. Get ahold of Iano and let him

know the danger he's facing, along with all the other

members of the Mindcrime Unit. The Patrians have

got to be convinced of it. Do whatever it takes. The

rest of you remain here until you hear from me."

  They all replied in the affirmative.

    "All right," Kirk said. "Good luck, Bones.

Scotty... energize!"

Chapter Ten

SPOCK WAS WAITING FOR HIM in the transporter room.

"Spock, are you all right?" Kirk asked with concern as

he stepped off the transporter pad.

    "I'm fine, Captain," Spock replied. "Merely a lac-

erated scalp and a slight concussion, nothing more.

Nurse Chapel applied sealer to the wound."

  "How did they treat you?"

    "I was not mistreated, Captain, save for the blows

on the head that rendered me initially unconscious. In

fact, the rebels were quite concerned about my wel-

fare, I was restrained while in their hands, but nothing

more."

    "I'm glad to hear that," Kirk said. They left the

transporter room and took the turbolift, en route to

the brig. "I want a few words with those rebels," he

said grimly.

228                                                                    229

    "They want a word with you, sir," Spock replied.

"In fact, they have been most anxious to make contact

with you."

 "Have they indeed?"

    "I think you will find what they have to say most

illuminating, Captain. I certainly did."

    "What do you mean?" Kirk asked, gazing at Spock

curiously.

    "I think that you had best hear it from them, sir,"

$pock replied. 'Tll be most curious to witness your

reaction."

    They stepped out of the turbolift and walked down

the corridor leading to the brig. Inside, six rebels were

being held in custody, guarded by a squad of armed

Security personnel. They looked up sullenly as Kirk

came in with Spock.

    "I am Captain James T. Kirk, commanding the

Starship Enterprise," Kirk said to them in a firm tone

that brooked no nonsense. "Which one of you is the

spokesman for your group?"

 A familiar voice said, "That would be me."

    It was the rebel whose voice Kirk had heard over his

communicator. As he stood inside the cell, Kirk

suddenly realized why his voice had sounded familiar.

    "My compliments, Captain Kirk, for the way that

you outwitted us. It seems we have greatly underesti-

mated your technological capabilities. I would be

curious to know how you managed it."

    "We traced your location through the signal trans-

mitted by Mr. Spock's communicator," Kirk ex-

plained. "We've met before."

  "Yes, at the Arena Club, Captain."

  "Zor Kalo," Kirk said.

 The rebel inclined his head slightly. "I am flattered

               230

that you remember, Captain. I am one of the leaders

of the rebel underground, and the money I had won in

the Arena helped to finance our movement. Of course,

my competing days are over now that my association

with the underground has been revealed through my

match with you."

    "But how were you able to keep it secret for so

long?" Kirk asked. "You were right out in the open, at

the center of attention during all the games. How were

you able to keep the Mindcrime Unit from discover-

ing who you were?"

    "It is difficult for one telepath to read another,"

Kalo replied. "I was able to shield myself."

    "You?" Kirk said, frowning. "But that would im-

ply --"

    "That I was once a member of the Mindcrime

Unit," Kalo said. "You are quite correct, Captain. I

had volunteered for the procedure, as did my brother

before me. And I watched him die from it, as no doubt

I shall before too long."

 "Then... you know?" Kirk said.

    Kalo nodded. "That the procedure is fatal? Yes, of

course I know. We have always known."

    "I don't understand," Kirk said with a frown. "You

mean to tell me you all knew that you were going to

die? From the beginning? And you still volunteered?"

    "Yes," Kalo said simply. "We were patriots, Cap-

tain, and we were more than willing to give up our

lives in the service of the republic. Each one of us had

been carefully selected from the rank and file of the

police force. Each of us had seen the violence that was

tearing apart our society firsthand, and each of us had

lost close family members to it. My brother and I had

lost our parents."

               231

    "It would appear, Captain," Spock said, "that they

specifically selected those officers whose exposure to

violence, resulting in significant personal loss, had left

them traumatized."

    "They picked cops who had a death wish," Kirk

said grimly. "And then they used that to condition

and train them."

    "A death wish," Kalo repeated. "Yes, I suppose that

would be a good way of putting it. We did not know

when we would die, exactly, but we were all told what

to expect. We knew we would have ten, maybe twelve

years, but during that time we could truly make a

difference and make what was left of our lives count

for something. And in the meantime, we would have

the best of everything for our reward. Power, wealth,

position... They knew it would have been pointless

trying to keep it secret from us. We would have known

anyway, immediately after the procedure. How do

you keep secrets from telepaths?"

    "So then the Council knows all about the effects of

the procedure?" Kirk said with astonishment.

    "In a sense, they do not really want to know," Kalo

replied. "They choose not to confront it. The people

have never been told, of course. The Mindcrime Unit

is controversial enough as it is. If it was known to the

general public that we were all going to die, and knew

it, and had nothing left to lose, then there would be an

outcry such as the government has never seen. Espe-

cially if it became known that toward the end we begin

to lose our minds. That was the one thing they did not

tell us, Captain, for they did not know themselves.

Now, of course, they do, and the doctors who perform

the procedure carefully avoid any contact with

telepaths afterward, to prevent them from discovering

232

the truth. We in the underground have tried to make

the truth known to the people, but the government

discounts it as lies and rebel propaganda aimed at

frightening the populace." Kalo shook his head sadly.

"Nobody believes us, Captain. We try to tell the truth,

but the people do not wish to hear it."

    "Indeed, why should they," Kirk said, "when it

comes from terrorists who kill innocent civilians?"

    "We have never killed civilians, Captain," Kalo

replied. "Police officers, yes, and members of the

Mindcrime Unit. I will freely confess to that. We are

fighting a war, and they are the oppressors, the

soldiers of the opposition. And it was they who began

the killing, not us. But we have never harmed civil-

ians. We have gone to extraordinary lengths to avoid

doing so, often at the cost of our own lives."

    "You forget, we were there when your people took

civilian hostages," Kirk said, "and when you threat-

ened their lives with your Klingon disruptors."

    "No, Captain," Kalo said, shaking his head. "That

was not us. I do not know how to make you believe

me, but the rebel underground does not make war on

Patrian civilians. We are battling to win their hearts

and minds, not to destroy them. What is more, we do

not possess any of these disruptor weapons of which

you speak. Ask your own people. Ask them if they

found any such weapons among us when we were

brought aboard this vessel and taken into custody."

    Kirk glanced at the senior Security officer present.

"Lieutenant?" he said.

    "He's right, sir," the Security man replied. "They

were carrying these." He held out a small hand

weapon, similar to the pistol lano carried. "Simple

projectile weapons. Crude and very primitive in com-

233

 parison to energy weapons such as phasers or disrup-

 tors, sir."

    "Then there is more than just one rebel group,"

Kirk said, feeling his spirits sinking. He had thought,

perhaps, that they might have made a breakthrough in

the case.

    "No, Captain, there is not," Kalo said. "There is

the rebel underground... and then there is the

Mindcrime Unit."

    Kirk stared at him. "Are you suggesting that the

Mindcrime Unit is staging these incidents? That

they're the ones with the disruptors?"

    "I am not suggesting it, Captain, I am stating it as a

fact."

    "What proof do you have of this?" Kirk asked with

astonishment.

    "None that you would accept, I fear," Kato replied.

"I joined the Mindc~me Unit well after my brother

did, at a time when the rebellion had already been

under way for some years. In the beginning I had no

sympathy with the rebels. I regarded them as crimi-

nals, and my motives for joining the Mindcrime Unit

and undergoing the operation you already know.

Unlike my brother, however, I was recruited into a

special clandestine operations group within the

Mindcrime Unit. Init/ally, the stated goal of this

secret group, known only to a handful of superiors at

the very top, was to infiltrate the rebel underground

and destroy it from within."

    "And that's how you got into the underground?"

Kirk asked.

    "At first, yes," Kalo replied. "I infiltrated them as a

police spy, and over time I gained their trust. It was

necessary for me to break the law in order to accom-

plish that, in more ways than I care to enumerate.

However, my superiors had no difficulty with that.

The end, they felt, justified the means. However, the

more deeply involved with the underground I be-

came, the more I came to understand them and their

grievances against the government. And the longer I

worked for the clandestine operations group, the more

I came to see just why they had those grievances."

    "And you became converted to the rebel cause,"

Kirk said.

    "No, not even then," Kalo said, "though I began to

suffer serious doubts about what I was doing. I had

joined Mindcrime to fight criminals, and instead I had

become one. Yet, at the same time, I was beginning to

understand those so-called criminals. I was living with

them, struggling with them, accepted by them as one

of their own. They had become my family, Captain,

and they seemed to show more concern for me than

my own superiors did."

    "So that's what finally brought about your conver-

sion?" Kirk asked.

    "What happened to my brother was what finally

made me see the truth," Kalo said. "The truth that all

of us were being used. I had kept in contact with him,

though strictly speaking, that violated regulations.

Each of us in the undercover group were supposed to

function completely on our own, reporting only to our

superiors, and never was there any direct contact.

That way, the odds of our covers being broken were

dramatically reduced. We did not know who the other

undercover agents were, and the organizational struc-

ture of the rebel movement practically ensured that

those of us who had successfully infiltrated one cell or

another would not come in contact with each other.

234                                                                         235

And those agents of Mindcrime who were not actively

a part of our undercover group did not even know that

it existed."

    "So then Lieutenant Iano wouldn't know about this

group?" Kirk asked.

    "Not unless he was a part of it himself," Kalo said.

"And if he was, then he would not be functioning

openly as a Mindcrime agent. Those of us who were

undercover worked alone and tried to remain shielded

at all times. It can be quite a strain, Captain. Some-

times, we have been known to slip. I slipped once,

briefly, in Iano's presence."

    "Lieutenant Iano mentioned that he had picked up

a stray thought impression the first time he came to

the Arena Club, Captain," Spock said. "It was what

alerted him to the rebel named Rak Jolo." He nodded

toward one of the rebels in the cell.

    Kalo nodded. "Yes, that was a close call," he said to

Kirk. "And later, during our match, I knew that

contacting you would mean exposure, because you

could not shield yourself from Iano. However, I felt

that it was worth the risk. Our only chance was to get

the truth to the Federation. That was why we had

abducted Mr. Spock. We were trying to get to you,

Captain. Not only did we have to try and make you

see the truth, but we had to warn you of the danger

you were facing."

 "What danger?" Kirk asked.

    "Iano," Kalo said. "He had undergone the proce-

dure at the same time as my brother, and he is running

out of time. That means he has become dangerous and

unpredictable. The same thing that happened to my

brother is doubtless happening to him, even as we

               236

speak. Toward the end, my brother started to com-

plain of severe headaches, which grew steadily worse.

After a while these headaches started to interfere with

his telepathic ability."

 "In what way?" asked Kirk.

    "It became erratic and undependable," Kalo said.

"At times, he was unable to pick up any impressions

at all, and these 'blank periods,' as he called them, had

started to occur more and more frequently. He had

avoided getting any medical attention because he was

afraid of being relieved of duty. It was much more

than just a job to him, as it was to all of us. It was a

way of life. Mindcrime agents do not have much

success with personal relationships, as you might

imagine. Their short-lived careers are all they have.

Nevertheless, I convinced him to see a department

physician, and in doing so, I killed him."

    Kalo paused to compose himself. It was obviously

still an acutely painful memory.

    "How?" Kirk asked, prompting him gently. "How

could you have been responsible?"

    "Because the moment his condition became

known, it signed his death warrant," Kalo said with

difficulty. "We had kept in contact by an arrangement

where messages were passed between us, and in his

last message, he sounded full of hope and excitement.

He had been told that his condition was merely

temporary, the result of stress, and would soon pass.

He was not dealing directly with anyone who knew the

truth, so he had no way of knowing what was really

happening. And since his telepathic ability had be-

come undependable, chances were he couldn't have

known regardless. He was returned to duty and given

               237

a special assignment. They had received a report, he

said, of a high-level rebel cell that was headquartered

in a certain building, and he had been assigned to a

unit that was going to raid it. In his excitement, he had

carelessly told me where the building was and when

the raid would occur. It just happened to be in our

area of operation. I knew that there was no such cell

present in that building, and was concerned that

innocent people might be hurt. However, there was no

time to send a message back to him, so I risked

breaking cover and tried to reach him at the scene."

    Kalo paused again and took a deep breath to settle

himselfi "I was too late," he continued. "My brother's

unit was supposed to gain entrance to the building

posing as maintenance workers, so they were not in

uniform, of course. It turned out to be an ambush.

They were all killed. There was nothing I could do to

stop it. And the next day, it was reported that the

so-called raid my brother had participated in was a

rebel terrorist attack foiled by the police."

    "So you're saying the whole thing was a setup,"

Kirk said.

    "Yes," Kalo replied. "Those whose orders created

the Mindcrime Unit to begin with kill their own

people when they start to become unstable, merely to

protect themselves. And at the same time, they blame

it on the rebel underground. There have been many

such incidents, Captain, especially since the disrup-

tors have appeared. More and more Mindcrime

agents are reaching their terminal date. And they are

becoming a liability."

    "Like putting down an attack dog that can no longer

be controlled," Kirk said nodding.

               238

    "Despite what you have been told, Captain, we are

not against the Federation," Kalo said. "We would

welcome Federation membership, and Federation

help to arbitrate our problems with our oppressive,

autocratic government. Those who are hoping to

upset the negotiations are the same ones who have the

most to lose if our government becomes more demo-

cratic. They are the members of the Council under

whose authority the Mindcrime Unit is administered,

those who surround themselves with secretaries and

assistants and bodyguards to ensure that no telepath

ever gets near them, because then the truth would be

discovered. If you want to know who is smuggling

disruptor weapons, Captain, look to them, not us."

    "Your argument sounds quite compelling," Kirk

said. "Unfortunately, there is no prooff We have only

your word."

    "Perhaps not, Captain," Spock said. And he told

him of the suspicions he had formulated earlier,

which confirmed at least some of what Kalo had told

them. "Aside from which," he concluded, "evidence

produced as a result of the Vulcan mind meld is

accepted as evidence in Federation courts. I could

easily confirm the truth of what Kalo has told us."

    "For our own purposes, Mr. Spock, I agree," Kirk

said. "But I'm afraid it's not a Federation court that

we'll have to convince."

    "In that case," Spock said, "why not bring Lieuten-

ant Iano aboard and let him ascertain the truth for

himself?."

    "Of course," Kirk said. "That would be the obvious

solution."

"Allow a Mindcrime agent to probe my thoughts

239

and discover all he needs to know about the rebel

underground?" Kalo said scornfully. "I cannot allow

that. I would die first."

    "Somebody's got to start trusting someone, some-

where," Kirk said with exasperation. "How else can

you hope to convince anyone of the truth?"

    "They are not interested in the truth," Kato said.

"Lieutenant Iano will merely convince himself that I

believe it to be the truth because I have been brain-

washed by my compatriots. In his eyes, I will be

nothing but a traitor who had been suborned to the

rebel cause. I know how these people think, Captain.

They have been conditioned well. Remember, I was

one of them myself."

    "But you managed to break through the condition-

ing and accept the truth," Kirk said. "Damn it, Kalo,

we're not going to get anywhere unless you're at least

willing to try! We have medical records that can prove

the procedure to create the telepaths is lethal, and that

it affects their minds as the disease progresses. We're

willing to use all of our resources to get the truth out

into the open, but you've got to meet us halfway!"

    "Only on one condition," Kalo said after thinking it

over for a moment. "You must agree to keep us in

your custody, and not turn us over to the Patrian

authorities."

    "I'm afraid I don't have the authority to do that,"

Kirk replied. "I can try to stall things off as long as

possible, but legally, I'll have to surrender custody of

your group sooner or later."

    "Perhaps not, Captain," Spock said. "Admittedly,

it would be stretching the truth slightly, since Mr.

Kalo and his group were not brought aboard the

Enterprise voluntarily, but if he were to request politi-

240

cal asylum for himself and his compatriots, it would

be within your perogative to grant it, pending an

o;~cial inquiry and dete~Tnination of their status by a

Federation court."

    "Yes..." Kirk said as he considered the sugges-

tion, "yes, that could work, Spock."

    "Captain, I hereby o,~cially request political asy-

ium for myself and my comrades," Kalo said immedi-

ately.

    Kirk nodded, "Granted, Mr. Kalo. Subject to your

agreement to cooperate2'

    "Aojeed," Kalo said. "Our fate is entirely in your

hands, Captain. As you said, somebody has to start

trusting someone, somewhere."

    "What do you mean, the transporters are inopera-

tive?" Jordan demanded angrily. "They were in per-

fect working order just a short while ago!"

    "Don't look at me, Ambassador," McCoy said.

"I'm a doctor, not an engineer. All I know is what i

was told."

    "Where is Captain Kirk'? I demand to see him

immediately."

    "The captain went back on board the Enterprise,"

McCoy replied.

    "Oh, I see. And the transporter was working per-

fectly for him, is that it?" Jordan said, his voice laced

with sarcasm. "What kind of a fool do you take me

for, McCoy?"

    '~I don't know," McCoy replied smoothly. "What

kind are you?"

    'Tlt have you cashiered from Starfleet, McCoy!"

Jordan said furiously. "By the time I'm through with

you, you'll be a lowly corporal washing out bedpans!"

24~

    "Not if I'm cashiered from Starfleet, I won't be,"

McCoy said. "You can't have it both ways, Ambassa-

dor."

    "Are you going to sit still for this?" Jordan said,

turning to Secretary Wing in exasperation.

    "If you'll only calm down, Ambassador, I'll do my

best to try and sort this out," she said. "Let me have a

word with Dr. McCoy in private, please."

    "As you wish," Jordan said stiffly, turning and

leaving the room.

    "Would the rest of you give us a moment alone,

please?" she said, speaking to Chekov, Muir, and

Jacob. McCoy simply nodded, and they left.

    She pursed her lips thoughtfully and stared at

McCoy for a moment, then leaned back against the

table and folded her arms across her chest. "All right,

Leonard, what's going on?"

    "Just what I've told you, Kim," he said. "Jim went

back aboard the Enterprise as soon as they rescued

Spock, to make sure he was all right and to interrogate

the rebels. And apparently, some sort of minor trans-

porter malfunction has developed since then and--"

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" she said.

"It's what I've been told," McCoy replied evasively.

"Are you sure you don't mean it's what you've been

ordered to tell me?" she countered. "Before you

answer that, I want you to think about this very

carefully, Leonard, because I don't want to see you get

hurt."

    "Who's going to hurt me, Kim? You?" McCoy

asked.

    "Not willingly," she replied, shaking her head. "I

care about you very deeply, Leonard. And I know you

242

care about me. We shouldn't let this come between

ILS."

    "I can't believe you'd throw that in my face,"

McCoy said. "What we've got between us has nothing

to do with this, Kim."

    "Doesn't it? I have my job to do, Leonard, just as

Jordan has his. You know how much is riding on this

mission. It's much more than just our careers. What-

ever you may think of Jordan, he is trying to do his

job. You and Kirk may not like the way he's going

about it, but that's not the issue here. I've never heard

of General Order 29. Granted, I'm not really up on

Starfleet regulations, but it just seems a little too

convenient that the transporters have broken down

right when we want to go back up to the ship to check

the data banks."

    "If that's how you want to interpret it--" McCoy

began, but she interrupted him angrily.

    "For God's sake, Leonard! Stop it! If you don't care

anything about me or the mission, at least think of

yourselfl If Kirk's done what I think he has, he's

just flushed his career right down the toilet! Do you

want to go down with him? Is he that important to

you?"

    "Jim Kirk is not only my captain, he's my friend,

Kim," McCoy said.

  "And what am I? Just a passing fancy?"

    "You know that isn't true," McCoy said softly.

"You're very special to me, Kim. But don't force me

to choose between you and my duty to my captain and

my friend."

    She stared at him, her face expressionless. "I'm

going to ask you one last time, Leonard," she said.

               243

"WilI you call the Enterprise and ask them to beam us

up?"

    "I'm sorry," McCoy said flatly, "but I'm afraid

there's a malfunction with the transporter."

    "And I'm aft'aid that you, Dr. McCoy, are lying,"

Lieutenant Iano said from the doorway.

     McCoy glanced sharply in his direction. "How long

have you been standing there?" "Long enough," Iano said.

    "It's bad enough invading people's thoughts,"

McCoy said, "must you eavesdrop as well?"

    "Your personal relationships are no concern of

mine, Dr. McCoy. I'm pleased to learn that Mr.

Spock's release has been secured. But you are holding

rebel prisoners aboard your ship and I want them."

    "You'll have to take that up with the captain,"

McCoy said.

    "Who is conveniently absent," Iano said. "Perhaps

you would be good enough to use your communicator

to call him."

    "I'd be glad to," McCoy said, "but first you're going

to listen to me. You need medical help, Iano. And if

you don't get it soon, you're going to die. The proce-

dure that gave you telepathic powers is killing you."

    "Please, Doctor, spare me the melodramatics,"

Iano said. "You are not telling me anything that I

don't already know. We all knew when we volunteered

for it. We all understood the risks. And we were all

well-compensated for our choice, I can assure you. We

knew we'd have maybe ten, twelve years of life, but in

that time we could accomplish something that could

help bring about ~ end to the violence and unrest in

our society. A short life, Doctor, but a glorious and

meaningful one, and then a quick death from a brain

               244

hemorrhage. It seemed a small enough price to pay,

especially to those who did not have much reason to

continue living in the first place."

    "It's not that simple," McCoy said, suddenly realiz-

ing that Iano did not seem to understand the full

implications. "There's no guarantee that death will be

quick. It's possible, yes, if the disease progresses

rapidly enough, but it's much more likely to be slow

and agonizing. The odds favor a gradual, painful

deterioration, accompanied by bouts of erratic behav-

ior leading to eventual insanity. They didn't tell you

that, did they?"

    Iano brought his hands up and rubbed his temples

with his fingers. "I don't have time for this right now,

McCoy. Call your captain. I want to speak with him at

once."

    McCoy simply stared at him, then suddenly com-

prehension dawned. "If you don't believe me, Iano,

why don't you read my mind? You can't, can you?"

    "Don't be ridiculous," Iano said. "How else would I

have known that you were lying about your transport-

er malfunction?"

    "Your head hurts, doesn't it?" McCoy said. "It

came upon you suddenly, just now. A splitting mi-

graine headache. And when it happens, you blank out.

You can't read anything! It comes and goes, but the

frequency's increasing. How long has this been hap-

pening?"

    "If you think you can alarm me with this pathetic

ploy--"

    "If I think? Why don't you tell me what I'm

thinking, Iano? You're the telepath! You're the one

who's so infallible! Damn it, man, can't you see? The

truth is staring you right in the face!"

245

    Iano drew his weapon suddenly and aimed it

McCoy. "Enough!" he shouted. "I want those rebels!

And I want them now, do you hear?"

    "What are you going to do, Iano?" McCoy said,

facing him squarely. "Shoot me? Kill me? Can't you

see you're starting to lose control? For God's sake, let

me help you!"

  "I'm warning you, McCoy! Call Kirk! Now.t"

    "That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," Kirk said

from behind him.

    Iano began to spin around with his weapon, but

even as he started to react, Spock applied the Vulcan

nerve pinch and Iano collapsed, senseless, to the

floor.

    "We've got to get him back up to the ship at once,"

McCoy said, rushing forward and bending over him

with his medical scanner.

    Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to

Enterprise."

  "Scott here, Captain."

  "Prepare to beam up the landing party, Mr. Scott."

  "Everybody, sir?"

    "That's right, Mr. Scott. And Lieutenant Iano's

coming with us. Get a fix on everyone and lock in the

coordinates. Prepare to transport on my signal."

  "Aye, sir."

    "I see the transporter seems to be working now,"

Secretary Wing said dryly.

    'Tll save you the trouble of consulting Starfleet

Regulations," Kirk said. "There is no General Order

29."

    "I had suspected as much," she replied. "You

realize what this means, don't you?"

               246

    "You and the ambassador can have me court-

martialed later," Kirk replied. "Right now, I've got

bigger things to worry about. Scotty, are you ready to

transport?"

 "Aye, sir. Locked in and standing by."

 "Energize," Kirk said.

247

Chapter Eleven

Im'4o CAME TO in the sickbay of the Enterprise,

stretched out on one of the tables. Nurse Chapel was

bending over him. He immediately pushed her away,

sat up, jumped off the table and snatched up an

instrument from a nearby tray. Before the startled

nurse could do more than cry out with surprise, he

had seized her from behind and pressed the instru-

ment up against her throat.

    "And just what do you intend to do with that?"

McCoy asked.

 "Don't come any closer!" Iano said.

    "Or you'll do what, apply wound sealer to her

throat?" McCoy asked dryly. "You can't hurt anyone

with that, Lieutenant."

    Iano moistened his lips nervously, then tossed the

instrument aside. "I'll break her neck!" he said,

shifting his grip quickly.

248

    "Yes, I have no doubt you could," McCoy said, "but

whatever else you may be, Iano, you are a police

officer, after all. You may have the authority to execute

criminals on your world, but Nurse Chapel's not a

criminal, and I think even you would draw the line at

cold-blooded murder."

    Iano took a deep breath, exhaled heavily and re-

leased her. "You're right," he said. He brought

his hands up to his head and pressed in hard

at the temples, wincing. "Forgive me," he said to

her. "The pain is maddening. I don't know what's

wrong with me. I... I just... cannot seem to think

straight."

    McCoy bent down and picked up the instrument

Iano had tossed aside. "It's a good thing you can't

read minds when you've got a headache," he said,

"otherwise you'd have known this was a laser scalpel.

All you all right, Christine?"

    "Yes, Doctor, I'm--I'm fine," she said, glancing at

Iano uneasily.

    Iano gave a snort. "I should have remembered how

you lied about the transporter," he said.

    "Nobody's perfect," McCoy said, replacing the

instrument in a locked cabinet. "How do you feel?"

    "The pain seems to be fading now," Iano said. He

gazed intently at McCoy for a moment. "You were

telling the truth," he said. "I can see that now."

    "You could have saved us all a lot of trouble if you

weren't such a stubborn, obstinate bastard," McCoy

said.

    The door to sickbay opened and Kirk came in with

Spock. "How is he, Bones?"

    "He's almost as difficult a patient as you are,"

McCoy said gruffly.

               249

      "That bad?" Kirk said, raising his eyebrows. He

turned to Iano. "How do you feel, Lieutenant?"

  "I'm well enough, at present," Iano replied.

    "Not for long, if you don't get back on that table,"

McCoy said.

    "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I'm afraid I must refuse,"

Iano replied.

    "What do you mean you refuse?" McCoy said

angrily. "Don't be a fool! Don't you understand

what's happening to you?"

    "Perhaps I do," Iano said, "but I cannot afford to

become what you humans call a 'guinea pig' for a

procedure you have never even attempted before. You

are not familiar with Patrian biology, and I have too

much to do right now to take that kind of chance."

    'Tll admit, this is an untried procedure," McCoy

said, "but damn it, you've got no other choice! And

I'm not entirely ignorant. I've already treated Patrians

after the Komarah incident, and what's more, I've got

a call in to Dr. Javik. He's going to come up and assist

me in the procedure."

    "That will take time, Doctor," Iano said. "And

right now, time is something I simply do not have."

    "You're absolutely right," McCoy said. "You can't

afford to put this off any longer."

    "I can't afford not to," Iano replied. "I must inter-

rogate the rebels, Doctor, before my government

officially demands that you surrender custody of

them. I am your best and only chance for corrobora-

tive testimony. If what you and Captain Kirk believe

is true, then I assure you that the rebels you're now

holding will never live to tell their story to anyone."

    "Not if they remain aboard the Enterprise," Kirk

said. "They've asked for~"

250

 "Political asylum, yes, I know," Iano said.

    "I don't know why I even bother speaking out loud

around you," Kirk said wryly.

    "Forgive me, Captain, but I don't have time to

waste with unnecessary explanations," Iano replied.

"If you grant the rebels political asylum and refuse to

surrender custody to my government, the negotiations

will undoubtedly collapse. And if what you suspect is

true, then that's exactly what certain individuals in

our government desire. It would give them the perfect

excuse to break off the negotiations, and everything

you've done will have been for nothing."

"He does have a point, Captain," Spock said.

"All right. What do you propose?" Kirk asked.

"First, I must see the rebels," Iano said. "I can only

testify after I have interrogated them personally. I

have no doubt in my mind that you believe what they

have told you to be true, but that is simply not enough.

It would not constitute proof in a Patrian court of law,

whereas my telepathic impressions would. Secondly,

if what they've told you is the truth, then we must find

a way to convince the Council of it."

  "Won't your testimony do that?" Kirk asked.

    "If I am allowed to testify," Iano said. "We are

dealing with the complexities of political intrigue,

Captain. If there are certain people on the Council

who wish to see these negotiations fail, then they will

find ways to prevent my testimony, such as insisting

that the matter of the surrender of the rebels be

resolved first, before any other issues can be dealt

with. There are any number of ways in which we could

be blocked from presenting our case. Delay will work

against us."

  "In more ways than one," McCoy said. "You've

251

already started to experience the first symptoms.

There's no telling how much time you may have left."

    "Which is why we cannot afford to waste it, Doc-

tor," Iano said. "Even if you are successful in revers-

ing my condition--and your own findings indicate

that once it's started, it may already be too late--then

my usefulness in this matter will have ended. I cannot

present testimony as a Mindcrime agent when I am no

longer telepathic."

    "You realize the chance you're taking?" McCoy

said.

    "I do, Dr. McCoy. I also realize that I have no other

choice. You need me, and aside from that, I want to

find out the truth as much as you do."

  "All right," Kirk said. "Let's go see the rebels."

    "Jim..." McCoy said anxiously. "He may die at

any time if we don't operate right now?

    "He understands his options, Bones. I can't force

him."

  "I can't go along with this," McCoy said.

    "I understand," Kirk replied. "But you can't oper-

ate against his will either."

    "I can't simply stand by and watch him die?

McCoy said with exasperation.

    "I appreciate your concern, Doctor," Iano said,

putting a hand on McCoy's shoulder. "Believe me, I

have no wish to die. Not now. But I also have no wish

to see my government controlled by a corrupt ele-

ment. I swore an oath to serve my people and my

government, and that is what I must do. And if it

means I lose my life, then at least I will have died for

something I believe in."

 McCoy watched helplessly as they left sickbay.

               252

    "You did what you could, Doctor," Nurse Chapel

said, coming up beside him. "Maybe there's still

time."

    McCoy shook his head. "The progression of the

disease has already begun," he said. "Even if we

operated now, I still don't know if we could stop it."

    Kalo got up to his feet in his cell when Kirk and

Spock came in with Iano. For a moment the two

Patrians simply stood and stared at one another

through the force field.

    "Cancel the force field, Lieutenant," Kirk said to

the Security officer in charge.

    Several of the officers took up position with their

phasers, covering the prisoners as the force field was

canceled. Kalo stepped forward out of the celt and

approached Iano.

    "Zor Kalo," Iano said, facing him. "Or should I say,

Kar Janik? We meet at last."

    "Kar Janik?" Kirk ~aid, glancing at Kalo with a

frown.

    "It was my name when I was an agent of the

Mindcrime Unit, Captain," Kalo said. "But that was

another lifetime. I left that life behind."

    "He has changed his name and had reconstructive

surgery to alter his appearance," Iano said, "but we

have known about him for some time. The renegade

Mindcrime agent who turned traitor and joined the

rebel cause. We have been looking for him for a long

time, and meanwhile he has been right out in the

open, competing in the games. Congratulations,

Janik. Very clever. You have made fools of all of us."

"You know who I am only because I allowed you to

253

know it," Kalo said. "I am not now nor have I ever

been a traitor, Iano. At least, not to the Patrian people.

And if your mind remains open as you read mine,

then you will see that too."

    Kirk watched as Iano stared at Kalo for a long

moment, trying to read his thoughts. Perspiration

stood out on Iano's forehead and he started to breathe

heavily.

  "It's coming back, isn't it?" Kirk said with concern.

    "I will be all right, Captain," Iano said, taking a

deep breath.

    Kalo shook his head. "It is no use," he said. "He

cannot read my thoughts. It is the same thing .that

happened to my brother and that will happen to all of

us sooner or later."

    "Iano," Kirk said, coming up beside him and taking

him by the arm, "you've got to try?

    Iano shook his head. "I am trying, Kirk. But the

pain... I cannot concentrate with the pain .... "

    Spock came up to stand before him. "Perhaps I can

help, Lieutenant. If you will allow me..."

    He raised his right hand, his fingers spread wide,

and gently placed his fingertips against Iano's face. He

closed his eyes and concentrated as he began the

Vulcan mind meld. "Your thoughts are my thoughts,"

he said. "Our minds are one .... "

    Iano stiflened slightly as Spock's mind made con-

tact with his own.

  "Your pain... is my pain," Spock said.

    Kirk and Kalo both watched intently as Iano's

breathing grew more shallow and he seemed to relax.

Spock stiflened as the pain Iano was experiencing

flowed into him. He groaned, then broke off the

contact.

254

"Now, Lieutenant ..." he said, his voice ragged.

"Quickly..."

    Iano turned toward Kalo and concentrated as he

probed the rebel's mind. Kalo simply stood there,

leaving his mind unshielded, allowing Iano to read his

thoughts. After a moment Iano broke the contact and

nodded.

    "It's all true," he said, taking a deep breath. "They

do not possess any disruptors." He shook his head

wearily. "We have all been used," he said.

    "Spock..." Kirk said, approaching his first officer

anxiously. "Spock... are you all right?"

    Spock nodded. "The pain is beginning to fade now,

Captain," he said. "I will be all right in a moment."

"Thank you," Iano said to him. "It has passed for

now."

 Spock merely nodded.

 "What do we do now?" Kirk asked Iano.

    "We must convince the Council of the truth," Iano

replied. "But that will not be easy. There are members

of the government who are behind all this, and they

will want the negotiations to fail. They will do every-

thing in their power to prevent the Council from

heating our testimony. And they will undoubtedly use

your holding the rebels as their excuse."

    "Then we'll simply have to find a way to make them

listen," Kirk said. "Not only that, but we'll have to

find a way to expose whoever is behind all this, force

their hand and make them come out into the open."

    "Captain, something has just occurred to me,"

Spook said.

 "Go ahead, Spock."

    Spock turned to Iano. "Lieutenant, while our minds

were in contact, I received several vague impressions

               255

that I could not quite focus on, because of the pain.

Who is Captain Rindo?"

    "The senior police officer in command of the

Mindcrime Unit," Iano replied.

  "Police officer?" Spock repeated.

    "Yes, that is correct," Iano said. He winced and

started rubbing the head again. The pain was coming

back. "The Mindcrime Unit, though it often functions

independently, is technically a part of the regular

police force, and as such, is under the administrative

authority of the senior police commander."

    "And this Captain Rindo is directly under the

authority of Commissioner Karsi, whom we met

along with Prime Minister Jarurn when we were first

introduced?" Spock asked.

"Yes, that's right," Iano said, sitting down wearily.

"What are you getting at, Spock?" Kirk asked.

"One moment, Captain," Spock said. He turned to

Iano. "And what, Lieutenant, is the Board of Police

Inquiry?"

    Iano took a deep breath, struggling with the pain.

"The administrative body charged with those high

level criminal investigations involving testimony that

must be presented to the Council," he replied. "Addi-

tionally, they investigate such matters as allegations

of police corruption and malfeasance, as well as--"

    "One moment," Spock said. "That may explain

why these thoughts were foremost in your mind.

When officers of the Mindcrime Unit, such as your-

self, are called upon to testify, they testify before the

Board of Inquiry, and the board then presents the

results of its findings to the Council, is that not

correct?"

256

    "Yes," Iano said, looking up at him. "My testimony

in this matter will have to be presented to the Board of

Police Inquiry, and then..." His voice trailed off

and, abruptly, as he realized where Spock was headed,

a look of sudden comprehension crossed his features.

"Which means that no member of the Mindcrime

Unit has ever testified directly before the Council," he

said. "Only to the Board of Inquiry?

    "Precisely," Spock said. "And since Captain Rindo

is the senior police commander, under whose authori-

ty the Mindcrime Unit is administrated, then he has

risen from the ranks of the regular police, and, unless I

am mistaken, is not himself a telepath."

    "No," Iano said, staring at Spock, "he is not.

Captain Lovik is the senior telepathic agent, but he is

only the deputy commander."

    "I don't follow, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, looking

perplexed. "What are you getting at? Explain."

    "Simple, Captain," Spock replied. "On the surface,

and from an administrative standpoint, it is all very

logical, and not essentially unlike the organizational

structure of Starfleet. The Patrian Council clearly

cannot afford to be concerned with every minor

mater involving subsidiary organizations such the

police, and so the Parian Board of Police Inquiry

functions as an intermediary body, conducting all

such investigations and presenting to the Council only

those matters deemed worthy of their attention. How-

ever, an interesting result of this procedure is that no

police officer, and perhaps more significantly, no

member of the Mindcrime Unit, ever appears before

the Council in person."

 "Of course!" Kirk said as it all came together for

                      257

him. "And if there are no telepaths on the Police

Board of Inquiry, then the board essentially functions

as a buffer between the Council and the telepaths!"

    "Correct," Spock said. "If certain members of the

Council had something to hide, then they most cer-

tainly would not wish to be confronted with a

telepath."

    "Simple," Kirk said, nodding, "yet far from obvi-

ous. Deceit hiding behind basic administrative proce-

dure. And it wouldn't be the first time. Well, we're

going to have to change that. I've got an idea, but it

will require the cooperation of Ambassador Jordan.

Iano, how are you holding up?"

    "Well enough," the telepath replied. "But the head-

aches seem to be coming more frequently, and my

ability comes and goes with them. It's becoming more

and more erratic."

    "Then we don't have any time to lose," Kirk said.

"We'll have to move fast. All right, everyone, listen

carefully. You too, Kalo. Here's what we're going to

do..."

    "Absolutely not!" Ambassador Jordan said. "Do

you have any idea what you're proposing? By all

rights, Jim, I ought to have you in the brig for what

you pulled with 'General Order 29'! You have jeopar-

dized this mission enough already! What you're sug-

gesting is completely out of the question!"

    Jordan had beamed up with the rest of the landing

party and they were alone in his quarters on the

Enterprise. Kirk knew this was the only chance he had

to bring him around. They were running out of time.

He had no idea how much longer Iano had, and

McCoy's prognosis was not good.

258

    "Bob, listen to me, please," Kirk said. "This mis-

sion was in jeopardy from the moment it began, and it

was none of my doing. Believe it or not, I want to see it

succeed as much as you do!"

    "You wouldn't know it from your actions," Jordan

said curtly.

    "Everything I've done," Kirk replied, "has been

aimed at helping this mission succeed. Somehow, I've

got to make you see that! If you'll only open your

mind long enough--"

    "My mind is not closed, Jim, but it is made up,"

Jordan said flatly. "I knew you were an unpredictable

maverick. You always were, even back at the Acade-

my. I was against your being assigned to this mission

in the first place, but your superiors at Starfleet

seemed to have a great deal of confidence in you, and

for old times' sake, I decided to give you the benefit of

the doubt."

    "I appreciate thatw" Kirk began, but Jordan

wouldn't let him finish.

    "However," he continued forcefully, "everything

you've done so far has only served to reinforce my

original opinion. By rights, I should have you relieved

of command at once and court-martialed you at the

first opportunity. I've already composed my report to

Starfleet and Federation Headquarters, and all I have

to do is sign off on it and ~nd it in. And frankly, right

now I can't think of a single reason why I shouldn't."

    "Then let me give you one," Kirk said. "You want

this mission to succeed. We both know there's a lot at

stake here, and bringing the Patrian Republics into the

Federation would be quite a step up in your career.

But that's not going to happen unless we put aside our

differences and work together. Afterward, if you want

259

to have me court-martialed, that's your perogative. I

admit I misled you about General Order 29, but you

forced my hand! I had to buy some time for Spock.

And if I hadn't done what I did, we never would have

discovered the truth about the rebels."

    "Yes, I know," Jordan admitted grudgingly. "That's

the only reason I'm listening to you right now."

    "Look, Bob, I know you're angry, and you have a

right to be, but if you can put aside your anger for a

moment, just ask yourself, what possible reason would

I have for wanting to sabotage this mission? We're

supposed to be on the same team. For God's sake,

work with me!"

    Jordan took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Very well," he said. "I'11 let you make your case. But

it had better be good, Jim, or I'll wind up getting tried,

as well as you."

    "All right," Kirk said. "Iano has determined that

the rebels are not the ones with the disruptors, and

our research team supports the conclusion that there

must be at least two groups responsible for the so-

called rebel incidents. We know the Mindcrime Unit

was highly controversial from the beginning. We also

know that the operation employed to create the

telepaths has long-term lethal consequences and re-

sults in mental breakdown that endangers not only the

officers themselves, but the general populace as well.

The underground has tried to get that information

out, but it's been dismissed as rebel propaganda.

However, McCoy's evidence is incontrovertible. He

must be allowed to present it. Somebody on the

Council is involved, and they've been covering it up.

Whoever is responsible has probably made a deal with

the Klingons to smuggle in disruptors, not to distrib-

260

ute to the rebels, but to equip a clandestine special

unit whose purpose has been to stage terrorist inci-

dents and blame them on the underground, thereby

increasing public support for the Mindcrime Unit and

the increasingly autocratic measures of the govern-

ment."

    "Perhaps the Klingons have given the people re-

sponsible some sort of guarantees," Jordan said,

following his logic.

    "Yes, but we both know what that's worth," Kirk

replied. "If the Patrian Republics join the Federation,

they'll have to become signatories to the Federation

Accords, and that will inevitably lead to democratic

reforms in their government. Somebody on the Coun-

cil is out to prevent that, and if we can expose who it

is, we'll find out who's responsible for the disruptors."

"What if you're wrong about this?" Jordan said.

    "I'm not," Kirk replied. "However, if this doesn't

work, then I become your whipping boy. Spock will

take command of the Enterprise and you can surren-

der custody of the rebels, then use my arrest and

subsequent court-martial as a demonstration of good-

will to the Patrians. And I'll even cover you in my

testimony at my court-martial."

    Jordan thought about it for a moment as he walked

over to the observation port and stared out into space.

"I hope you're right, Jim," he said, "I really do.

Because if you're not, we'll be charged with violating

the Prime Directive and we can both kiss our careers

good-bye."

    "There's a lot more at stake than our careers," Kirk

replied. "If we don't succeed, Bob, a lot of people are

going to die. The Patrians will fall under the domina-

tion of the Klingons, and there won't be a thing the

261

Federation can do about it. We've got a chance to

prevent that. I'd say that's worth risking our careers,

wouldn't you?"

    Jordan turned back from the observation port to

face him. "What makes you think the rebels can be

trusted?"

    "Iano thinks they can be," Kirk replied. "But I'm

not taking any chances. They won't be carrying live

weapons, and I'll have armed crewmen watching them

every second."

    Jordan sighed and shook his head. "This is really

crazy," he said. "And I guess that makes me crazy for

going along with it."

  "Then you'll do it?" Kirk said.

    Jordan nodded. "All right, I'll go along." He sighed

heavily. "And if this blows up in our faces, I won't let

you take the rap alone. But I hope to hell you know

what you're doing."

    Kirk smiled. "Now that's the Bob Jordan I remem-

ber," he said. He held out his hand, and as Jordan

took it, Kirk said, "Welcome back."

    The Patrian Council was in session in their meeting

chambers as Ambassador Jordan entered with Kirk

and proceeded to the table in the center of the room.

The U-shaped dais of the Council encircled them as

they took their places behind the two chairs that had

been reserved for the ambassador and Secretary

Wing.

    Prime Minister Jarurn rapped his ceremonial gavel

several times on the table before him and waited for

the undertone from the other Council members to die

down. "We are curious as to the reason for Captain

Kirk's presence at this meeting, Ambassador Jordan,"

262

he said. "Why has he come in place of Secretary

Wing?"

    "Secretary Wing is... temporarily indisposed,"

Ambassador Jordan replied with a brief glance at

Kirk. "And since Captain Kirk is directly concerned

with the subject of this meeting today, I thought it best

he should attend."

    Prime Minister Jarurn nodded. "Very well," he

said. "You are welcome, Captain Kirk. Please, take

your seats."

    "Thank you, Prime Minister," Kirk replied. "I

would prefer to stand."

    "As you wish," the prime minister said. Jordan sat

down in the chair provided for him.

    "As I understand it, Prime Minister," Kirk said,

"the issue confronting the Council today concerns the

Patrian rebels currently in custody aboard the Enter-

prise."

    "Quite so, Captain," the prime minister replied.

"We understand that you have come to make arrange-

ments to remand them to our custody."

    "No, Prime Minister, I have not," Kirk said. "The

rebels have requested, and been granted, political

asylum."

    His remarks brought on an immediate outburst. All

the Council members started talking and shouting at

once. The prime minister had to strike the table with

his gavel almost a dozen times to restore order.

    "Ambassador Jordan," he said, "am I to under-

stand that the Federation is refusing to surrender

custody of the rebels to the lawful Patrian authori-

ties?"

    "The rebels have made a formal request for political

asylum, Prime Minister," Jordan replied. "Pursuant

263

to Starfleet regulations and the Federation Accords,

we have granted that request, pending an official

inquiry by a Federation court and a final determina-

tion of the rebels' political status,"

    This brought on another outburst of shouting, and

it was a while before the prime minister could once

again restore order.

    "Prime Minister! Prime Minister, I would like to

speak!"

    "The Council recognizes Elder Harkun," the prime

minister said.

    Elder Harkun stood and turned to face Kirk and the

ambassador. "Captain Kirk... Ambassador Jordan

ú.. while the Patrian Council would not presume to

dictate terms to the Federation, neither will we toler-

ate the Federation dictating terms to us."

    There was an assenting chorus of agreement, and

the prime minister struck the table with his gavel

several times until it died away.

    "Elder Harkun has the floor," he reminded the

Council members. "You may all speak in turn at the

appropriate time." He nodded toward Harkun.

"Please continue, Elder Harkun."

    "It is my understanding from what you have told us

that the Federation is granting asylum to these rebels

on the grounds that they claim to be political

dissidents," he said. "This claim is specious and

thoroughly unsubstantiated."

    There were several loud cries of agreement from the

other Council members.

    "The rebels do not represent any oppressed minori-

ty or organized political faction whose grievances and

rights have been repressed," Harkun continued.

"They are criminals, pure and simple, who have

264

committed murder and violent acts of terrorism

against the Patrian citizenry in an effort not to work

within the system of our society, but to disrupt and

overthrow it. It is not they who have been oppressed

by the Patrian government, as would be the case with

dissidents who would request asylum from third

parties, rather, it is the rebels who--through acts of

wanton mayhem, murder, and destruction--have

been oppressing us/"

    Once again a resounding chorus of assent broke out

from the members of the Council while the prime

minister hammered on the table to restore silence.

    "The Patrian Council, representing the unified gov-

ernment of the Patrian Republics, entered into negoti-

ations with the Federation in good faith," Harkun

continued. "We had welcomed contact with other

intelligent species, as represented by the Federation,

and we had extended an open invitation to you, as the

representatives of that body, to visit us and discuss the

possibility of a formal alliance, one which could be of

benefit to our respective cultures. We had accepted

your offer of aid in assisting us to resolve the problem

of these disruptor weapons being smuggled to the

terrorists, in the hope that by working together, we

could begin to establish a basis of mutual respect and

understanding. We had received you here in trust, and

in sincerity. Is this how we are to be repaid?"

    Again a chorus of shouting broke out among the

members of the Council in support of Elder Harkun's

remarks. While the prime minister rapped his gavel,

Kirk held up his hands.

    "The Council recognizes Captain James T. Kirk, of

the Federation starship Enterprise," Jarurn said.

"Thank you, Prime Minister," Kirk said. "To reply

265

to the honorable Elder Harkun's remarks... first of

all, we did not offer to aid the Patrian Republics

resolve their problem with the rebels. Our aid was

officially requested and--"

    An undertone of mumbling broke out and Kirk held

up his hands once again.

    "And... we accepted, specifically and only on the

grounds that the appearance of Klingon disruptors on

Patria One represented outside cultural interference.

Our agreement, gentlemen, was to help cut off the

supply of these weapons, and exert our best efforts to

find and confiscate those that had already been dis-

tributed."

    "And even in that, Captain Kirk, you have failed!"

one of the Council members called out, rising to his

feet. "Through the inaction of your ship and crew, you

allowed one of our vessels to be attacked by an Orion

ship that had violated our space and was carrying

energy weapons to supply the rebel underground!"

    Angry shouts broke out once again, and Kirk raised

his hands, waiting for it to die down.

    "I remind you, gentlemen," he said, "that the Orion

vessel in question was destroyed by my ship after it

had fired on the KorearaN, whose captain chose to

take unprovoked offensive action without bothering

to consult the officer I had left in command of my

ship."

    This did not go down any better than any of Kirk's

previous remarks, and it took a while for the uproar to

die down. Kirk waited tensely.

    "Do I still have the floor, Prime Minister?" he

asked.

 "Continue," the prime minister replied gruffly.

 "I stand behind the actions of my ship and crew,"

               266

Kirk said, "and will be held responsible in any official

inquiry. However, to return to the Elder Harkun's

remarks: he has stated that we have been received here

in trust and in sincerity. I submit to the members of

this Council that this was not the case."

    He raised his voice and continued over the angry

reaction that followed his remark.

    "What we have found since we arrived here was a

government that functions in duplicity, oppresses its

citizens through police state tactics, jeopardizes the

lives of its law enforcement officers through lethal

surgical procedures, and employs clandestine strike

teams to stage terrorist acts in which innocent civil-

ians are killed and blame is focused on the rebel

underground!"

    Bedlam was unleashed by his remarks. Members of

the Council jumped to their feet, shouting and gestic-

ulating, hammering their fists on the table and de-

manding his immediate removal from the chambers.

Harkun alone said nothing as he sat and stared at

Kirk. Kirk met his gaze and raised his arms for

silence, but it never came, despite the incessant ham-

mering of the prime minister's gavel.

    "All right/" Kirk raised his hands and shouted, in an

effort to make himself heard above the uproar. "All

right, you want the rebels? I'bry well, then... here they

are/" He flipped open his communicator and said,

"Now, Mr. Scott!"

    The perimeter of the chamber became filled with

the light-play of transporter beams, and a moment

later the six Patrian rebels appeared, along with

Spock, Chekov, McCoy, Sulu, Lieutenant Iano, Spe-

cialist Muir, and Yeoman Jacob. They were all armed

with phasers.

               267

    Their sudden appearance brought about an imme-

diate, shocked silence among the members of the

Council.

    "Nobody move/" Kalo shouted, brandishing his

useless phaser.

    The prime minister slowly stared at the rebels with

astonishment and disbelief, then turned to Kirk with

an incredulous expression on his face. "Kirk, you

must have lost your mind!" he said.

    "No, Prime Minister, but what is on the mind of

someone in this chamber is the entire purpose of this

demonstration," Kirk replied. "Lieutenant Iano?"

    Iano stepped forward and scanned the faces of the

shocked Council members until his gaze came to rest

on Elder Harkun. Slowly, Harkun rose to his feet.

    "You," Iano said, pointing at him. "You are behind

this! You are the traitor!" And then he winced and

doubled over with sudden pain.

    With a snarl, Harkun reached inside his robe,

pulled out a disruptor and fired, aiming at Iano, but

Kalo was already moving. He leaped and shoved Iano

out of the way, absorbing the full impact of the blast.

He cried out as his body became wreathed in the

white-hot energy blast and disintegrated.

    Muir and Jacob were the only ones with a clear shot.

They fired their phasers simultaneously, on stun, and

Harkun fell, the disruptor dropping from his hand. As

they ran forward to check on him, several of the

Council members tried to leave, but Spock and

Chekov stepped into their path.

    "Going somewhere, gentlemen?" Chekov said, cov-

eting them with his phaser. They froze.

    McCoy rushed over to the fallen Harkun with his

medical kit. Muir and Jacob were already there,

268

standing over him, while Spock, Chekov, and the five

remaining rebels blocked the doors.

    "He's all right," McCoy said. Then he hurried over

to Iano, who was slowly getting up, assisted by Kirk

and Jordan.

    "He gave his life for me," Iano said in a stunned

tone, looking toward the spot where Kalo had fallen.

    "Don't talk," McCoy said, examining him with a

deeply concerned expression on his face. "Jim...

we've got to get him back up to sickbay right away!"

    "No," Iano said, pushing McCoy away. "No... I

am going to finish what I came to do!" He turned

toward the other shocked Council members and

scanned their faces until his gaze came to rest on the

ones Spock and Chekov had prevented from leaving.

They started to back away, but Chekov came up

behind them, prodding them forward with his phaser.

    "They were involved in it as well," said Iano.

"Councilmen Dorin, Urik, and Rahz. But Elder

Harkun was the mastermind behind the plot. They

were in secret contact with the Klingon Empire, who

had promised them full control of the Patrian Repub-

lics. Commander Anjor was also involved, as well as

Captain Lovik. The Komarah would rendezvous in

space with Orion freebooters, who were carrying

disruptors on commission from the Klingons. They

would then bring the shipments back to be distributed

to special teams of agents, who believed that they were

acting in the interests of the government by trying to

turn popular support against the rebel underground."

    Sweat began to bead up on his forehead as he

continued, breathing heavily. The Council chamber

was utterly silent as he spoke.

  "The reason the Komarah fired on the Orion ship

269

was because Anjor and Lovik were afraid their part in

the plot would be exposed by the Orions in an attempt

to save their vessel," he said. "The Enterprise had

already detected the Orion ship on its scanners, and

Anjor knew he could not warn them off, because any

such attempt would be picked up by the Enterprise.

He chose to fire on the ship, hoping the Enterprise

would join him and destroy it. Instead, his own vessel

was damaged, and these conspirators chose to use that

as an opportunity to focus blame on the Federation

officers."

    He grimaced, then groaned as the pain started to

return, but forced himself to continue. Sweat was

streaming down his forehead.

  "That's enough, Iano!" McCoy said.

    "No... not yet," Iano replied, gasping for breath.

"They were also behind the execution of the

Mindcrime agents who had started to succumb to the

results of the procedure. Their bodies were destroyed

by the disruptors so that they could not be identified.

The conspirators knew that the majority of the Coun-

cil favored Federation membership, and so they...

worked behind the scenes... in an effort to make...

the negotiations... fail..."

    Iano cried out and grabbed his head with both

hands as blood suddenly started streaming from his

nose and eyes.

    "Iano!" Kirk cried out, stepping forward to catch

him as he fell. McCoy rushed forward and crouched

over him.

    "Bones..." Kirk said, staring at McCoy with a

stricken expression.

    McCoy simply looked at him and shook his head

with resignation.

270

    "It was... all for nothing..." Iano gasped, his

features contorted with pain. "I die... just the same.

Kalo died... for nothing."

    "No," Kirk said softly. "Not for nothing. He bought

you the time you needed."

    "Yes..." Iano said weakly. "He did... didn't he?

He truly was... a champion..."

And then his body spasmed briefly and was still.

Kirk slowly stood and faced the other members of

the Council, who were all looking on in silence. Spock

and Chekov were covering the traitors with their

phasers, while Muir and Jacob stood over the uncon-

scious Elder Harkun.

    "Well, Prime Minister," Kirk said, "it would seem

our work here is done."

    The prime minister nodded. "Speaking for the

Council, Captain Kirk, you have our sincere and most

profound apologies. And you as well, Ambassador

Jordan. This body owes you both a great debt of

gratitude."

    "You owe your gratitude to him," Kirk said, gazing

down at Iano. "And the best way to repay it would be

to disband the Mindcrime Unit and begin immediate

preparations to reverse the procedure that created

them. My ship and its medical facilities will be at your

disposal, and Dr. McCoy stands ready to work with

your medical personnel."

    "It will be done at once, Captain Kirk," the prime

minister said. "Is there any opposition'?"

    His gaze swept the other members of the Council.

No one raised their voice in protest.

    "So ordered," the prime minister said, rapping his

gavel. "This Council meeting will adjourn until to-

morrow, when we shall convene to determine the fate

               271

of Elder Harkun and his fellow conspirators. Ambas-

sador Jordan, you and Captain Kirk, as well as

Undersecretary Wing, would honor us if you were

present at the trial, as observers for the Federation."

    Jordan inclined his head in a slight bow. "Thank

you, Prime Minister. We would be honored to at-

tend."

    "As to the matter of the rebels..." The prime

minister paused. "We are content, for now, to allow

them to remain aboard the Enterprise, pending a full

investigation of their activities. If the Federation is

disposed to grant them political asylum, and if they

choose to accept it, we shall not contest the issue.

However, considering the matters that have just been

brought to light, it is not out of the realm of possibility

that a general amnesty may be considered. I can give

no guarantees, although I think the Council may be

disposed toward leniency."

    "Is that acceptable to you?" Kirk asked the rebels.

"It's more than a fair offer."

  "It is acceptable," Rak Jolo said.

     "Very well," Kirk said. He flipped open his commu-

nicator. "Kirk to Enterprise." "Scott here, Cap'n."

    "Beam us up, Mr. Scott." He looked around at the

others as they gathered round him. "Mission

accomplished."

272

Epilogue

"CAPTAIN'S LOG, STARDATE 6769.4," Kirk said, record-

ing. "We are preparing to depart the Patrian system

and head for home following the successful comple-

tion of our mission. Ambassador Jordan will be

remaining behind, to reside at the legation as first

Federation ambassador to the Patrian Republics. Sec-

retary Wing will be accompanying us on our return

trip, to present her report to Starfleet and Federation

Headquarters."

    A report which, thought Kirk as he paused in his

recording, could easily have brought about his court-

martial. However, Jordan had agreed to forget all

about the incident, and promised there would be no

mention of it in his report. When it came down to the

wire, Jordan had realized the details would reflect

badly on him.

  "Working together with Dr. Javik, former ship's

                       273

surgeon of the Patrian vessel Komarah, and a team of

Patrian physicians appointed by the Council, Dr.

McCoy has managed to successfully reverse the surgi-

cal procedure that created the Patrian telepaths. In the

first dozen postoperative cases, the patients have all

recovered completely, though of course they have lost

their telepathic abilities. Dr. Javik is now confident

that they can carry on with the procedure on their

own with the remaining members of the Mindcrime

Unit. As there will no longer be any telepathic law

enforcement officers in the Patrian Republics, the law

of Transgression by Intent has been unanimously

repealed by the Council in what Prime Minister

Jarum promises will be only the first in a continuing

series of democratic reforms.

    "The trial of Elder Harkun and his confederates has

resulted in a guilty verdict for all parties, and subse-

quent indictments of other coconspirators are in

progress. At the request of Ambassador Jordan, and as

a gesture of goodwill towards the Federation, the

mandatory death sentence for treason has been set

aside, and the convicted parties will serve a period of

twenty-five years in a penal colony on one of the

Patrian moons. As none of them are young anymore,

to all intents and purposes it amounts to a life

sentence.

    "The matter of the Patrian rebels, being considera-

bly more complicated, will take more time to resolve.

The rebel underground has been responsible for the

assassination of an as yet undetermined number of

police officers, and as such, the question of a general

amnesty remains highly controversial. It will be diffi-

cult to sort out which victims were killed by the rebel

underground and which ones were assassinated by the

274

undercover strike teams operating under the orders of

Elder Harkun and his confederates. For the time

being, the Council has agreed to use all of its resources

in pursuit of its investigation and to consider each

individual case on its own merits. Those rebels who

come forward voluntarily will be given the option of

standing trial before a jury of their peers, or else

accepting resettlement on one of the less populated

Patrian colony worlds.

    "It is obviously not the most ideal solution to the

problem, and there remains the fact that, undoubted-

ly, many members of the rebel underground will not

come forward. The Mindcrime Unit has been official-

ly disbanded and its members lodged in hospitals,

awaiting medical attention. Therefore, given the pres-

ent lack of telepaths among the Patrian law enforce-

ment agencies, chances are that rebels who do not

come forward will probably remain undiscovered.

The issue will, in all likelihood, continue to remain

controversial in Patrian society for many years to

come. There are rarely simple and equitable answers

in such cases, and eventually it will all probably be

forgotten, relegated to an unpleasant and painful

aspect of their history. One way or another, either

through the agency of the Patrian courts--or through

the simple passage of time--the matter will finally

come to rest."

    Kirk stopped recording for a moment and leaned

back in his chair, thinking of Lieutenant Iano. At the

very least, he deserved a grace note in the record. He

switched the recorder back on.

    "As a final note, I must report on the death of

Lieutenant Joh Iano, late of the Mindcrime Unit of

the Patrian police, whose efforts were pivotal in the

275

success of this mission, and who bravely and unself-

ishly gave his life in the line of duty."

    Before he could continue, there was a soft knock at

his door and he turned around to say, "Come in."

    The door slid open and McCoy entered. "You

wanted to see me, Jim?"

    "Yes, sit down, Bones. I'm almost finished." He

beckoned McCoy to a chair across from him at the

table and continued with his recording. "My senior

officers and I, in addition to Specialist Andrew Muir

and Yeoman Trish Jacob, who participated in the

mission, were privileged to attend the funeral services

for the late Lieutenant Iano. Prime Minister Jarum

presided over the occasion, and I was given the honor

of saying a few words for the departed. My remarks,

for the record, were as follows:

    "'The highest and most noble sacrifice that any

officer can make is to give his life in the line of duty. I

was privileged, for a brief time, to serve with Lieuten-

ant Iano, whom I found to be a highly diligent,

dedicated, and patriotic officer. Knowing that his life

was in danger, and that he was in dire need of medical

attention, Lieutenant Iano nevertheless disregarded

his own welfare in order to unmask a conspiracy that

threatened the very fiber of Patrian society. That

effort cost him his life. It is, perhaps, ironic that in the

end, a dissident rebel named Zor Kalo, and Lieuten-

ant Job Iano, whom we are honoring here today, both

gave their lives to bring the criminals to justice. I am

sure Lieutenant Iano would agree that we should

honor both of them, and that the sacrifice they made

should stand as a symbol for the future of Patrian

society, and for the healing of its wounds.' End log

entry, James T. Kirk, Captain, U.S.S. Enterprise."

276

    McCoy nodded. "A man couldn't ask for a finer

epitaph," he said.

    "It doesn't seem enough, somehow," Kirk said.

"mere words never are."

    "I only wish things could have turned out different-

ly," McCoy said. "When I first met Iano, I despised

him and all he represented. And you can't hide

something like that from a telepath. I think we all felt

the same way in the beginning. He knew how much we

hated everything he stood for. I just wish he could

have known how much we came to respect him in the

end."

    "I think he knew, Bones," Kirk said softly. "I think

he knew."

    "What was it you wanted to see me about?" McCoy

asked.

 "It was, uh... a personal matter," Kirk said.

 "You mean Kim," McCoy said.

    "We'll be rendezvousing with the Lexington soon,"

Kirk said, "and they'll be taking her back to Starfleet

Headquarters."

 "Yes, I know," McCoy said.

    "It's really none of my business, but I was just

wondering... how things were," Kirk said. "! mean,

how you were."

    McCoy simply shrugged. "We both knew it couldn't

last, Jim. It was fun while it lasted, though, and

maybe, one of these days, we'll see each other again,

who knows? But she's got her duties, and I've got

mine. I'm okay with that. Really. But thanks for

asking."

    "Yes, well... we're not due to meet the Lexington

for another few days," Kirk said. "I've checked with

               277

Nurse Chapel, and she says there's nothing in sickbay

she can't handle by herself for a while. So I'm reliev-

ing you of duty for the next seventy-two hours. Why

don't you take some time for yourself7."

    McCoy smiled. "I think I'll do that," he said,

getting up. "Thanks, Jim."

 "Don't mention it," Kirk said.

Coming in mid-April...

$rx, TRTREK

        PLANET

THE [IœJ{'T GE[!œRzlTIOI'!r by W.R.Thompson

The Ferengi have been changing the people of Megara, turning

a hard-working and honorable people into the vicious

xenophobic killers. But Picard finds out that the Ferengi are

only hired hands. They have hidden masters, with plans to use

the Megaran people as a powerful weapon againstthe

Federation.

          And coming in mid-May...

$ffl~ I!~œK

                    #70TRAITOR WINDS

                    THE THIRD BOOK IN THE

                    LOST YEARS SAGA

                    by L. A. Graf

Accused of murder and treason, Chekov and Sulu go into hiding

as Kirk and Uhura search for evidence to prove them innocent.

The web of conspiracy is woven tighter as the real traitors and

Federation agents close in on the fugitives. With time running

out, the former U.S.S. EnterpriserM crewmates must find out the

truth before the Federation is plunged into war with its

deadliest enemi