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 enemies!

278