Pawns and Symbols Read online

  The Vulcan considered it. "There is such a technique, though I have never employed it. It would, however, be simpler than controlling her through the prolonged process of disarming that device."

  "She will have to be quite terrified up to the block but unfortunately I don't see any way around that," McCoy said.

  The trio entered sick bay. The Romulan was lying quietly in bed, with Dr. Chapel and Chekov at the bedside. "Her signs are stable, Dr. McCoy."

  "Thank you, Dr. Chapel. You might start setting us up for surgery then—well be working on her arm a little later." He glanced at Chekov. "Captain, maybe you'd like Chekov to get a couple of life support units ready? She'll be ready to go out soon."

  Kirk sent Chekov on his way. "Spock, let's get on with it."

  Reena's eyes widened as she struggled to sit up. "No, not Spock! Doctor, you said … I thought you understood—"

  McCoy cut in. "I know perfectly well what you thought. We have very little time. Now let's get this over with." He held her down on one side, Kirk on the other. She screamed.

  Spock touched her face with the characteristic mind-meld position. The Romulan mind is in some respects like the Vulcan. That made it worse for him. Sheer terror. He couldn't even tell what exactly she feared—everything was blotted out by it. He almost broke the link. Then slowly, steadily he began to gather that fear, to pull it together, contain it. Finally there stood a firm barrier. He began to withdraw. The woman waited warily. "I have done what I came to do. Madam, I sincerely regret the necessity. Perhaps you will find consolation in the fact that it was equally distasteful to me."

  "Understood," she acceded. He left. Reena looked up at the faces around her. Concern was written all over McCoy's. Kirk looked relieved and Spock—was Spock.

  McCoy touched her chin lightly. "Reena, are you all right?"

  "That is all?" she whispered.

  "Yes, it's over," he said with relief. "Now that we've blocked out those horrible tortures we've put you through, let's substitute some pleasant memories. It would never do for your Romulan officers to get hold of our interrogation techniques. They might find a way to stop us."

  The woman relaxed visibly. McCoy was no telepath but he could almost read her thoughts. He'd meant it. She would go home.

  McCoy watched as Reena and Pavel worked their way slowly along the secondary hull toward the device. They had nineteen minutes to detonation. The doctor had worked steadily over the Romulan woman for some time to get her ready for this foray. She really was in precarious shape. Normally he wouldn't let someone in that condition out of bed. As soon as she got back, he wouldn't, he promised silently. Now he watched the viewscreen alongside Kirk, Spock, and Scotty while the two figures approached the device. They were nearly there. Reena withdrew her hand from Pavel's and motioned him back. She knelt beside it and her fingers moved over it, touching here, pressing there. Pavel watched anxiously—five minutes … four … She stood with one fluid movement, the device in her hands, turned and pushed it away from the Enterprise toward the atmosphere of the planet. It burned on entry.

  "Reena, why did you do that?"

  The look she gave him was unfathomable. "I was required to disarm it, not to turn it over to you. Let's go." She took his hand.

  McCoy whisked them both off to sick bay again. This time he let Chekov stay with Reena. Maevlynin sat at Reena's head, one finger lightly on the woman's left temple. With her other hand she occasionally adjusted one of the silver needles inserted in Reena's skin. Pavel sat beside her, his dark head bent over Reena's. They spoke of navigation, ships, and stars. Not yet, Maevlynin thought with gentle amusement, did they talk of the emotions that flowed between them. Clearly this effect of McCoy's worked both ways.

  Behind the surgical screen, Drs. McCoy and Chapel worked steadily on Reena's hand and arm. Once again McCoy was grateful for Maevlynin's anesthetic technique. Resembling a hybrid of telepathic touch and ancient Terran acupuncture, it was perfect for this kind of surgery. Although slower to produce an effect than conventional anesthesia, it was exquisitely precise. Dr. Chapel was working on the thumb while McCoy painstakingly reanastomosed the Romulan equivalent of the ulnar artery just above the wrist. "Reena, would you move your thumb now please? Fine. Now Maevlynin, let's open up circulation in this artery again and see how it looks. Great." He leaned over the screen. "We're almost done now. I think you'll recover almost perfect function of this hand eventually." Reena acknowledged this report with a brief smile.

  Dr. Chapel was fussing over Reena's bed while Maevlynin and Pavel cleared away the instruments. McCoy was talking to Kirk and Spock who had come to see how his latest patient was doing. "It's going to be strict bed rest for a few days but I think she'll be fine. It will be over two weeks though before she's likely to be ready for discharge. She's been through a lot." McCoy wanted to be sure that this patient was returned in mint condition.

  Kirk acquiesced. "Scotty's bringing her launch up by tractor beam. Then we'll return to the Romulan ship and complete our survey of it. When you feel she's ready, we will arrange her release through the Organians."

  "Dr. McCoy, I am particularly intrigued by your cultivation of this empathetic effect with Miss Tertullian. Could you describe your technique?" Spock inquired.

  McCoy was rebandaging his own blisters. "Oh, its really quite straightforward, Mr. Spock. I simply analyzed the situation logically and then let my intuition tell me what to do." And hoped that the Romulan would read, and believe his emotions telepathically, he thought, but he wasn't about to tell Spock that.

  Spock's eyebrow went up a fraction. "Did your intuition 'tell' you to do that, too?" He indicated the blisters.

  McCoy replied airily, "Simply one of the hazards of the assignment, Mr. Spock." He really had done a superb job and he wasn't going to let Spock needle him … Maevlynin's tinkling laugh alerted him. Kirk and Spock were gazing at something about a meter above his head: a basin of soapy water.

  Spock regarded Maevlynin gravely. "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."

  Maevlynin nodded and replied merrily,"'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul. I think the Romans call it stoicism."

  McCoy yelped, "Maevlynin! You wouldn't dare!" and made a frantic but unsuccessful grab for the basin. Inexorably, the basin tipped. McCoy spluttered helplessly.

  Four days later, McCoy sat at his desk and ruefully surveyed sick bay. The place had become a zoo. Reena was a popular patient, a unique phenomenon: a Romulan willing to talk, to listen, to learn, to share about anything—except Romulan Space Service—and half the crew seemed to want to talk to her. Finally, he had put Chekov in charge of policing the traffic. He was spending all his free time with her anyway. It had been an excellent move. By limiting other visitors, Chekov had more time with Reena to himself, and McCoy had more of his sick bay to himself. Pavel certainly seemed good for her. She was recovering rapidly. Yesterday he had let her out of bed and now this afternoon Pavel had taken her for a walk.

  His reverie was interrupted by the arrival of Captain Kirk. He glanced at Reena's bed. "Bones, where's Reena now? I see you've let her out of bed."

  "Oh, she's in Sulu's quarters, Jim."

  Kirk did a double take. "She's where?! Bones, are you out of your mind? We're going to return that woman. And you let her go—"

  "She'll be all right, Jim. Chekov's with her. She just wanted to see Sulu's weapon collection, that's all."

  But Kirk was not worrying about Reena in the clutches of his crew. He was thinking of his ship. "Worse yet. She'll probably talk the two of them into a full tour of the ship." He whirled, "Bones, now that she's out of bed I want her confined to sick bay and the nearest rec room. Nowhere else. That's your responsibility and if you can't enforce it she goes to the brig. I'm not going to release a Romulan with a mental blueprint of our ship."

  Reena accepted the restriction quite calmly, saying she really hadn't expected that much. It would have been only logical to have put her in
the brig once she was out of bed. The captain was most generous. She and Pavel were sitting on her bed in sick bay watching a portable viewscreen. It was tied into the crew assigned to explore the Romulan vessel. Pavel was helping her go through the exercises to restore hand function. They watched a crew woman on the screen as she walked down a corridor and entered a room. "Yes, that's it. She found my room." Reena was delighted that Pavel had arranged the recovery of her belongings. The crew woman left. Idly, Chekov switched scenes: crew's quarters, mess hall, engineering (a shambles), main computer, the bridge. Something made him glance at Reena. She was looking at her hands.

  "What is it? What's wrong, Reena?"

  "Please turn it off, Pavel. How would you feel if it were the Enterprise? If you had to sit and watch Romulans take apart the remains of your ship?"

  Chekov was instantly contrite. "I am sorry, Reena. Sometimes I forget. You seem so comfortable here … with us … that I don't think of you as Romulan."

  Reena smiled tiredly, "I know you mean that as a compliment, Pavel." She leaned back on her bed. "I'm tired. Pease go and let me rest." He kissed her gently and left. Alone, Reena wept quietly into her pillow. It was so painful and exhausting to live in two worlds. She was coming to appreciate this one. These humans were generous, well-intentioned. With the bomb incident past, their present cruelty was innocent. They had accepted her as a friend and forgot that she was more, or less, or different. Whatever—but it hurt. She saw more clearly the flaws in her own society and culture. But also its strengths. There was much that was good and vigorous and noble about it, much to build on. The same seemed true of this one. But they seemed so implacably irreconcilable. Yet she and Pavel had come together and now she felt as though they would be crushed by this collision of the Empire and the Federation. Pavel—this fascinating human. She cherished his similarities and delighted in his differences—long since she had admitted this attraction to herself. Where would it all end?

  She felt a warm touch on her shoulder. It was Maevlynin. She sat up as she felt Maevlynin's mind brush hers lightly: May I come in? Wordlessly she accepted the contact. As Maevlynin rocked her gently, she felt the sorrow flowing out from her to the Estryllian. It was like standing on the ridge after the rain had stopped, the storm was spent … wet hair plastered to her cheeks and the World fresh and sparkling.

  I know, my child, came Maevlynin's thought, it is always painful when the soul is stretched. But we can do it. We are doing it, and sharing it makes it easier.

  Pavel, too, was distraught. Soon they would be finished with Romulan ship. Reena was gaining strength rapidly. Inevitably the day of her release was coming closer. He couldn't ignore it. And he wouldn't let her go! He had conjured up a dozen mad schemes to prevent her departure. She loved him. He knew that. She was well-liked by the crew. There was ample evidence of that. No one was forcing her to be repatriated. She could stay. Why wouldn't she? Why did she have to be so stubborn? And what would she face on her return? There was no guarantee the Romulans would accept her story in spite of Spock's mind block. They might kill her. He would be powerless to help her. He wouldn't even know!

  McCoy was mildly surprised at the knock. If bridge or sick bay needed him they would use the intercom. Usually he was not disturbed by crew when off-duty. If he wanted company, it was easy enough to find … "Who is it?"

  "Chekov, sir. I'm sorry to bother you but may I come in for a moment, please?"

  Uh, oh. It had to come sooner or later. He snapped off his viewer. "Sure. Come on in, Pavel. What's on your mind?" As if he needed to ask.

  Chekov poured out his story. McCoy had been with him from the start so there was much he didn't have to say explicitly. He sat on the edge of McCoy's bed, his hands moving restlessly. As McCoy watched him talk, his heart ached. Pavel could be his own son if he'd had one. And he had been responsible for getting Pavel involved with Reena in the first place. He hadn't given him any more choice than they had given Reena. Pavel finished with, "Doctor, what am I going to do?"

  "Do, Pavel? What are your alternatives? You can't go home with her. She won't stay here. Suppose she would. What then? Even if Captain Kirk would allow it, Starfleet Command would never permit a Romulan on a starship. Sure the crew like her now—but Pavel, she's confined to quarters. She's not a threat. Think how much trouble Spock has with crew members sometimes and there's no question about his planet's loyalty to the Federation. Would you ask her to face that? Spock handles it, but he's a Vulcan. You can't turn a Romulan loose on the Enterprise. That's madness. If you resign your commission and take her off to some frontier planet that never heard of the Romulan Empire, what would either of you do there? The stars are in your blood—both of you. Pavel, you've wanted to be on a starship since you were six! You're a fine navigator. You may be a first officer or even captain of a starship someday. Can you give all that up for Reena? Would she let you?"

  McCoy stopped. Maybe he'd said too much. Pavel's shoulders drooped, but his hands were still. For a moment McCoy's eyes mirrored Chekov's pain: another time, another place, another man and woman a long time ago … He sat down beside Pavel and put his arm over his shoulder. His voice was gentler now. "Pavel, it never works to force someone into the mold of your needs and wishes. It may seem to for a time but it ultimately fails. And you can't force yourself into someone else's mold. Let her go. Anything else will destroy someone."

  "Thank you, doctor. It hurts, but I think I needed to hear that. I'll think about it. Good night."

  Not far away the captain also had a caller in his quarters: Spock. "Two items, Captain, that I believe merit your attention this evening."

  Kirk laid aside his book. Although his first officer frequently worked beyond his assigned duty hours, he rigorously respected the off-duty status of his human colleagues. This must be urgent. "Yes, Spock. What is it?"

  "The Romulan ship's malfunction was not an intrinsic failure. It was sabotaged."

  "Sabotaged! How?" Kirk was fully alert.

  "By a very efficient Klingon device placed in the main engine room." Spock replied.

  "Klingon! Are you sure?" Kirk demanded.

  "I have the salvage team's report and complete analysis here. There is no doubt as to the origin of the device."

  "Very conveniently having it occur in Federation space. Our Klingon friends seem determined to keep us busy, don't they? Has Starfleet Command been notified?"

  "The report is ready for transmission. I thought it would be best to discuss it with you first," Spock replied.

  Kirk smiled at the Vulcan. "All right, Spock. Analysis? Recommendations? What's on your mind?"

  "It's only a matter of time before the Romulans locate their ship. They will discover precisely what we did and no doubt also ascertain that we have already been aboard her. Their conclusion, however, will be that the Federation arranged it to look like the Klingons. The ship is in a sector that the Klingons do not frequent."

  "Mmm. You're undoubtedly right, Spock," Kirk mused. "But suppose we notify the Romulans first, give them a complete report. We might make it backfire on the Klingons."

  "Precisely my thought, Captain," Spock replied. "Since we are diverting to Organia to return Navigator Tertullian, it would be a simple matter for me to accompany her and give the Romulan ambassador there a full account."

  "That's right. The Romulans are due to open their diplomafic mission on Organia any day now, aren't they?"

  "Reports are that the imperial flagship was to bring the ambassador and his staff to Organia some days ago," Spock replied.

  Kirk's eyes twinkled. "Would our old friend still happen to be in command of the flagship, Mr. Spock?"

  "She is still the commander of record," Spock said stiffly. Kirk smiled. Despite the circumstances surrounding their original encounter with the Romulan commander, Spock had as much as admitted his attraction to the woman. "I think it would be most appropriate for my first officer to brief the Romulan ambassador." Spock's face remained impassive as Kirk expected, so he
continued. "You said there were two items?"

  "Yes, Captain. A coded order from Starfleet Command—for your eyes only." Spock handed him the orders.

  From his wall safe Captain Kirk took out his personal code key and quickly worked out the message. Then he gave a low whistle. "Well, Spock, it looks as though you will be going to Organia in any event. Here." He handed the decoded message to his First Officer.

  DETACH FIRST OFFICER SPOCK FOR TDY AT ORGANIA ENTERPRISE PROCEED TO SHERMAN'S PLANET AWAIT FURTHER ORDERS CZERNY LOCATED PENELI CONNECTION IMMINENT STARFLEET COMMAND

  "I hope it will be a short assignment, Spock. I don't like being without my First Officer for long," Kirk said.

  "Nor do I, Captain," Spock replied.

  Reena and Spock would be leaving inthe morning. Uhura and McCoy had organized a farewell party. Kirk stood musing at the scene in front of him: eight heads bent together over the cube. Maevlynin ws trying to teach them how to play the game. A Vulcan, an Estryllian, Terrans from four continents, and a Romulan. How long would it be before Romulans would participate in the diversity that was the Federation? Kirk wondered. In his lifetime? For Pavel and Reena's sake he fervently hoped so but it didn't seem likely.