Pawns and Symbols Read online

  "Pirate!" The dagger did not allow much room for speech.

  "Plucky pawn. You just keep coming, don't you? I like a good fighter. Don't worry, you'll survive but it will be my success. I like that very much." His mouth came down hard on hers, and Jean felt his dagger hand on her skin. She winced as a whistle shrill to the point of pain assaulted her ears.

  With a muttered oath Kang got to his feet pulling her with him. He snapped the lever on the desk console. "By Durgath, what is it?"

  "Federation starship closing on us, sir. We've kept hailing frequencies down as ordered. They fired a signal shot across our bow. Shall we open fire on them now, Commander?"

  "Do you have a positive identification yet?"

  "It is the Enterprise, Commander."

  "Excellent." A look of grim satisfaction settled on Kang's face. "Status Amber—full battle readiness. Open hailing frequencies sequentially. I'm on my way to the bridge."

  The outer door opened to admit the returning officer. "Orders, Commander?"

  "Keep her here until further orders." Kang turned to Jean. "It seems your Captain Kirk has decided to cross swords with me again after all. Listen to the intercom. You should find it most instructive." He left.

  The Klingon took in her deshabille with a leer, then turned to the console. Jean sat down in one of the facing chairs. The Enterprise had arrived! If only there was some way to signal them. At least she could hear the interchange. That was something. She heard Kang arrive on the bridge and order the channel opened to the Enterprise.

  "So, Captain Kirk, we meet once again! I trust you have good reason for invading Klingon territory and firing on an imperial battle cruiser." Kang's voice was cool and dry.

  "Commander Kang. You know full well why we are pursuing you. This time the evidence is unequivocal. I charge you with violation of the Organian peace treaty." It was the familiar voice of Captain Kirk.

  "Violation of the treaty? Unequivocal evidence? Come now, Captain Kirk, state your case precisely."

  "Kang, we know you have just left Sherman's planet. We found your newly established outpost there. Do you deny it?" Kirk sounded impatient.

  "Outpost? Captain Kirk, that's a scientific mission. Under the terms of the treaty, Sherman's planet belongs to whomever can most efficiently develop it. The Federation's efforts to date have not been spectacularly successful. Now, with your most recent disaster, it seemed that we were justified in applying to the Organians for equal status on Sherman's planet. We have so notified them. We have honored the treaty to the letter. Now, may I suggest that unless you wish to provoke an incident, you leave Klingon territory at once. If you do, I am prepared to overlook your aggressive behavior."

  "Just one minute, Kang. I'm not through yet. I further charge you with assault, murder, and destruction of Federation property on Sherman's planet. I want an accounting—"

  "Surely, Kirk, you're not accusing us of creating an earthquake just to destroy your station?" Kang sounded amused.

  "No, the station tapes document that was a natural event. However, there were survivors and you were there after the quake. You murdered Jones, the communications officer, plundered the agricultural lab, and abducted or murdered Agricultural Specialist Czerny. Those are acts of war and I demand an accounting as well as custody of those responsible."

  "Those are grave charges, Captain. On what do you base them? What is your so-called evidence for these alleged acts?"

  "We found fragments torn from a Klingon uniform in the debris where you forced entry into Czerny's lab. She is missing and so are items from her lab. Dr. McCoy has established that Jones died following administration of lourkain and a sedative, neither of which are stock Federation medical supplies. Now, do you deny responsibility for this?"

  For the first time, Kang sounded slightly annoyed. "Your men have certainly been efficient. My particular compliments to Dr. McCoy for his thoroughness. However, I can establish beyond any doubt that we took no hostile action. You misinterpret the facts. Allow me to set the record straight." Jean heard a click, then Kang's voice continued. "Dr. Eknaar to the bridge." Another click. "Lieutenant, bring your charge to the bridge."

  "Yes, Commander." The man grasped Jean by an elbow and steered her out the door. Once again threading narrow corridors, she marshaled her thoughts. Kang was going to acknowledge her presence on his ship. Would she have any chance to communicate directly? What was most important to say? Could Kirk force Kang to hand her back? What kind of trap was Kang trying to set for the Enterprise? There was so much data she didn't have!

  The addition of Jean, her escort, and Dr. Eknaar made the Klingon bridge very crowded. Ignoring the banked displays of the weapons officer to her left, Jean looked past the high back of Kang's seat to the viewscreen. There was the familiar bridge of the Enterprise with Captain Kirk in his command chair. Behind him, she could see Lieutenant Uhura bent over her communications console. Ensign Chekov, the navigator, and Helmsman Sulu sat at their posts. Her throat ached to call out. Though she had served only briefly in the science section aboard the Enterprise prior to the Sherman's planet assignment, those familiar faces felt like home. She noted Kirk's jaw tighten and his fist clench momentarily as he caught sight of her. She became acutely aware of her own appearance.

  Kirk addressed Kang again. "It seems you merely confirm my charges. I insist you return—"

  Kang interrupted with preemptive gesture of his head. "Dr. Eknaar, describe the condition of Specialist Czerny when we found her."

  "Certainly, Commander. She was semicomatose, suffering from acute nutritional deprivation, marked electrolyte imbalance, critical dehydration, evidence of concussion—probably of eight to ten—"

  "In your estimation, how much longer would she have survived in that condition without treatment?"

  "Mmm … probably less than thirty hours, sir."

  Kang turned to the viewscreen. "We picked up a distress call from Sherman's planet. Reconnaisance showed no Federation ship in the area. There were two survivors. We found the communications officer in a terminal state and made him comfortable. Czerny, we were able to revive. As you would phrase it, a simple humanitarian act, Captain Kirk."

  "And how did you come by that, Specialist Czerny?" Kirk gestured to her tunic.

  "I …" Jean began, momentarily confused by his question.

  Kang intercepted smoothly. "Ah … Captain … Miss Czerny took umbrage at one of my men and challenged him to a duel." He turned his head and raised his hand to conceal a fleeting smile. "She won. As a result, one of my best lieutenants will be spending some time in sick bay. Naturally, I was annoyed. . . ." He shrugged expressively.

  "Czerny?" Kirk queried.

  This time, Jean was ready. "Captain Kirk, among the items removed from my lab was the drivault containing the new resistant strain of quadrotriticale. In seeking information from me about it they have discovered my allergy to lourkain so I told them about my conditioned fatal response to the agonizer. Under the circumstances, I didn't see any point in concealing that."

  Kirk didn't even blink. "Of course, Lieutenant Czerny. On status X you have that latitude." Jean did blink at her sudden rise in rank. What in space was status X? Lieutenant/status/latitude … Was there something she had forgotten? Kirk continued. "Commander Kang, you are holding one of my people and certain materials belonging to the Federation. I formally demand immediate return, and also detention of those responsible until judgement is rendered by the Organians in this matter."

  Kang smiled openly this time. "Surely you jest, Captain. . . . Czerny is bond to me."

  Kirk looked puzzled. "Bond?"

  "By Klingon custom, and I remind you Captain Kirk, you are in Klingon territory. By our custom, if a person's life is saved by another, then he—or she in this case—becomes bond-person to the rescuer until he sees fit to release that bond. Your lieutenant is a valuable pawn to me for the moment. I have no intention of releasing her yet."

  Kirk's face took on a stubborn set. "Czerny
is an Aldebaranian citizen and a member of the Federation. As representative of the Federation, I demand her immediate release."

  "Do I take it then, that you do not recognize Klingon custom and practice in this instance, Captain?" Kang demanded in a steely voice.

  "Correct, Kirk snapped.

  "Then neither do I recognize Federation jurisdiction here, Captain Kirk. I suggest you take it up with the Organians. We'll transmit our tape of this encounter to them. Now, unless your orders cover starting a war, I suggest you leave Klingon territory immediately. Let me point out that you are at the moment flanked by two additional cruisers. We don't take kindly to invaders, Captain Kirk."

  On the viewscreen, Spock, the Vulcan first officer, straightened from his computer console to meet Kirk's querying gaze. "Confirmed, Captain. Sensors show three Klingon cruisers."

  Kirk chewed his lip in frustration. "Kang, when your ship was destroyed and I took your crew survivors aboard my ship they were well-treated. I expect the same for Czerny. I will hold you personally responsible for her treatment."

  Kang's face darkened momentarily. "I shall keep that in mind, Captain, in detail." Then he added mockingly, "Until we meet again, Kirk." Abruptly he snapped off the communication lever and stood, his face suddenly dark with fury. "Now, who is the tatterdemalion galley scum who left his uniform all over that lab?"

  "Here, sir." A sturdy young Klingon was pushed forward by another Klingon guard.

  "Well?" Kang demanded sharply.

  "No excuse, Commander." the Klingon replied stiffly.

  "Eknaar, stand by." Kang nodded to the guard. "Quarter-strength, standard duration, then confine to quarters for sixty hours."

  Jean watched in horror as the guard applied the agonizer to the hapless Klingon. She had never seen it in action before. Intense nausea assailed her as the man collapsed screaming. His screams ended abruptly as he stiffened in convulsions. The guard replaced his agonizer while Eknaar checked the unconscious man. Jean gagged, then leaned against her escort for support. Eknaar stood up. "He's stable. Take him to quarters."

  Jean saw Kang glance at her curiously. She straightened herself with some effort. Kang turned to Eknaar. "And what about that communications officer? I said I wanted no traces left."

  Eknaar's shoulders assumed their worried hunch. "With the higher human metabolism, they should have been eliminated. Maybe he didn't live as long as I predicted. I told you it was—"

  "I know, I know. You warned me it was risky. What I want from you is results, not risks." He started for the door. "Lieutenant, bring the human. Eknaar, after we finish with her, confine yourself to quarters for thirty hours."

  Thoroughly unnerved by what she had witnessed, Jean let herself be virtually carried by the guard. At sick bay entrance Kang instructed Eknaar curtly, "Baseline readings, then send her to detention." He disappeared down the corridor.

  Numbly, Jean lay on the diagnostic table and submitted to various scans and probes. She had stalled successfully awaiting the Enterprise. Now it had come and gone. Rescue suddenly became remote. Though she regained her physical equilibrium, her mind refused to compute anything but the image of the convulsing Klingon.

  At length Eknaar dismissed her with a casual slap on her thigh. "Off you go, my girl. A final piece of advice. Don't count on your Captain or the Organians. Even if they should come through, it may be too late to do you any good. If you cooperate with Kang, he'll give you a fair shake—even now. Just don't push him too far."

  Jean simply stared at the stocky, gray-haired Klingon medic. She couldn't think of any response.

  Somehow she managed to navigate the corridors again and ended up in a small cubicle furnished with a cot, a table, and a three-legged stool. On the table sat her drivault. Kang was waiting with another Klingon whom she had not seen before. Kang eyed her carefully and again she caught a flicker of an unnamed emotion that crossed his face. He indicated the slender Klingon at his side.

  "This is Aernath, our agricultural liaison. He is working on your notes and has clearance to see you at will. It would be in your best interests to cooperate with him. Now, open the vault."

  Stolidly, Jean kept her eyes fixed on Kang's shoulder. He'd done nothing about the dagger wound as if it were of no import, but she saw that he moved the arm a bit stiffly. She clung to that bit of knowledge for the small comfort it yielded. She did not dare to meet his gaze or speak, knowing that if she did her control would break. Mutely she shook her head.

  Kang stepped forward, grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck and tilted her face up to his. He spoke softly. "Don't try to wait for Kirk or the Organians. I don't—you don't have that much time." The ice in his tone sent chills down her back.

  She shut her eyes and focused her entire will into a final effort. "No."

  Kang released her with a jerk that sent her tumbling back onto the cot. "Very well. We'll restore you to the condition in which we found you—with one minor variation. Dr. Eknaar will give you glucose injections to keep your ketones below the point that they kill your hunger pangs. You can eat when we get the wheat." He indicated the drivault. "It's wired. All you have to do is touch it to activate the signal. Someone will come at once."

  The three Klingons left. Through the transparent top half of the cell door Jean could see the guard posted outside. He, in turn, could see her entire cubicle from outside, except the lavatory offset in the same wall. The lavatory contained a sonic toilet and a sink. The sink was dry. No water. Carefully avoiding the table, she returned to her cot and lay face down. The tension was finally too much, and she began to sob silently until her whole body shook. Eventually she fell asleep.

  1 Vile Klingon insult. Laundry is a menial task traditionally done only by low-caste servant women—hence demeaning, especially to a male.

  Two

  ON THE BRIDGE of the Enterprise Captain Kirk stared at the blank viewscreen. "Retrace course to Sherman's planet, Mr. Sulu, and put up the exterior view of those three cruisers as we go." The bridge crew watched as two cruisers disappeared rapidly. The third trailed them slowly as they turned and headed back out of Klingon space. Finally, satisfied that it was merely surveillance, Kirk said, "Cancel Red Alert, Mr. Sulu. Yellow Alert until that cruiser turns back. Mr. Scott, you have the con." He stood up giving a brisk tug on his shirt and glanced at Dr. McCoy standing near the turbo lift. "Bones, Mr. Spock."

  The two science officers followed him into the turbo lift. "Conference Room," he directed the turbo. Mr. Spock, his Vulcan first officer, stood at easy parade rest, his face impassive from black bangs and pointed ears to his angular chin. To his left, Dr. McCoy, senior medical officer, stood with one hand under the other elbow while he chewed thoughtfully on a knuckle. His slim figure conveyed a sense of worried concentration. "Well," Kirk said, "we know she's alive and headed into Klingon territory. Beyond that—"

  The turbo lift door opened and the trio moved into the conference room. McCoy and Kirk picked up coffee and the three sat down at one end of the large conference table. Kirk's voice was sober. "You both saw the whole thing including Czerny's appearance and the Klingon's report of her condition. What do you think? Bones?"

  McCoy shook his head. "It's hard to say. If the Klingons are telling the truth about the condition they found her in, and it's plausible based on what we found on Sherman's planet, then probably she's suffered a moderate to severe concussion. There's no predicting how that will affect her memories or her actions, or for how long. Without a chance to examine her that's about all I can say."

  "Well, she's obviously alert and functioning now. What about her comment on lourkain? Any mention of that in her medical history?" Kirk asked.

  "As you know, Jim, Starfleet doesn't make a habit of interrogating people with that stuff, but she does have minor allergies to some related compounds. My hunch is they used it on her and found she really is allergic." McCoy grimaced. "It's a nasty reaction to handle from what I read, but their M.O.'s must have a lot of experience with it."r />
  "So that might not indicate anything about her memory. Do you think she's amnesic? If so, how much and how long?" Kirk pressed his medical officer.

  "She certainly could be. Concussions almost always produce amnesia for the immediate injury event and can produce more widespread memory loss. It's totally unpredictable. In this case I'd say it's quite likely. I saw no response the whole time she was on the bridge. Did either of you?"

  Both Spock and Kirk shook their heads. "Not even to the code." Kirk ran his fingers through his hair. "And where in blazes did Kang come from? We expected the raid but Starfleet Intelligence was sure it would be Koloth!"

  "Actually, Captain, it was estimated that there was an eighteen percent chance that it could be Commander Kang and a seven percent chance of some other Klingon cruiser based on analysis of past deployment of Klingon forces," Spock pointed out.

  "That's still three-to-one odds on Koloth, Mr. Spock. All right, what do we have on Kangs cruiser?"

  Spock called up a Starfleet Intelligence report on the viewscreen, and the three men regarded it glumly. "We have no current information on that, Captain," Spock finally observed.

  "Great. So she's amnesic, on the wrong ship, and from what she said she has some new strain that Kang wants information about." Kirk rubbed his right cheek with an unconscious gesture as he recalled the image of Kang standing over Chekov's writhing form with the Klingon agonizer pressed to his face. "He'll kill her if need be to get what he wants." He drew the hand down across his chin in a gesture of frustration, then slapped it flat on the table. "And I can't prevent it."

  Spock displayed another report on the viewscreen. "Jean Ly-Kieu Czerny. Eurasian. Science Section, agricultural specialist. Her psychometric profile was reviewed before she was considered: xenophobic index remarkably low, less than average paranoid tendencies, generally flexible and resilient in stress situations. Her Sherman's planet assignment was voluntary. You have no reason to berate yourself for a logical command decision," Spock pointed out.