Pawns and Symbols Read online

  "Commander Kang! I … uh … we … were not expecting you," Aernath stammered.

  "So it would appear," Kang responded drily. "You seem inordinately exuberant this morning. I trust you have results to report that are commensurate with your emotional display?"

  Jean moved quietly to one side of the lab as Kang took a seat and Aernath launched into an enthusiastic and detailed report of their summer's work. Kang's appearance had produced a strange melange of feelings and Jean welcomed a few moments to sort them out. Much as she had wanted him to appear, now that he was here the old fear was back—and the fascination—in the sense that Spock would use the word. The Klingon commander was a complex and intriguing person and it was fascinating to watch him in action. Fascinating, that is, as long as she was the observer and not the recipient of his actions. She also felt relief and even genuine pleasure, which surprised her.

  They had done a good job and she knew it. Aernath was giving her due credit in his report. Kang had promised her her own price if they succeeded. In her optimistic moments she convinced herself that he would indeed keep his word and release her. His presence now seemed to confirm this. That could certainly account for the pleasure at seeing him she decided.

  Kang interrupted Aernath's report. "Czerny, report to the administration building."

  On her way, she stopped in her room. She was not surprised to find it empty of her belongings. The only items remaining were two weavings on the wall. She retrieved them quickly. One was her own and the other a gift from Tsuyen. She made a detour to the kitchen and left hers as a parting gift to Tsuyen. The woman seemed geniunely sorry to see her go. "Good-bye, Cheerny. Clear space and good landings."

  Six

  THEY DROVE DIRECTLY to the spaceport and beamed aboard Kang's cruiser. A crewman took her to a room forward in the officer's section. She explored her new surroundings curiously. A bed with attached small sofa occupied one corner. At the foot of the bed was a small desk. A table and two chairs completed the furnishings. Recessed over the bed was an aquarium with a number of small brightly colored fish. The niche over the table held not the familiar image of Durgath but an exquisitely wrought statue of a lithe female form: Cymele, the goddess of the fields and forests. Tsuyen had told her that Cymele was also the protectress of women. Thoughtfully, Jean turned it over in her hands. It was made of some unknown ivory-colored substance, warm and satiny to the touch. Replacing it she turned to unpack her belongings. Inside the clothes locker were several standard female Klingon uniforms. Startled, she momentarily wondered if she had been assigned to bunk with a female crewmember. She had seen none on board. Moreover, there was no other evidence that the room was occupied. The clothing must be for her. It fit. Emboldened by her apparent change in status, she opened her door and checked the corridor. The guard was there.

  "Do you require something?"

  Nonplussed, she gave the first command that popped into her head. "Accompany me to Aernath's lab."

  If he was surprised to see her he didn't show it. "Hi. You're just in time to help me unpack."

  As usual she was impatient for news. "Aernath! What did he say to you? What is going to happen now?"

  He shook his head briskly. "Here, help me with this, will you?" He carefully positioned a large potted plant, then turned to her with a wicked grin. "Now all they'll pick up is static if they're monitoring. It drives Security crazy. They must check that 'bird' a dozen times a year, but it only 'malfunctions' erratically. That," he indicated the plant, "produces electromagnetic impulses that jam the pickup. An obscure botanical fact I've never bothered to publish."

  Though chagrined at forgetting Security for a moment, Jean giggled. Sometimes Aernath seemed almost human. "O.K. Give. What did Kang say? Where are we going now?"

  "Klairos. I was hoping for Peneli but seasons are wrong and besides, the blight is worse on Klairos I gather. So that's where we go. Kang is very pleased—whatever his grand plan is, he says things are going accordingly." He frowned. "I wish I had a better idea what he was thinking."

  "What can you tell me about Klairos? And did Kang say anything about me?"

  "It's a fairly recently settled rim world. Primitive culturally. Most of the inhabited areas are mountainous. The lowlands are largely marsh I gather—not reclaimed yet. I'll get the tape for us to review tomorrow if you like. As for you, no, Kang didn't say anything specific. But I told you he was pleased. I expect he'll let you know himself."

  "I guess he already has, in a way. I've been put in officer's quarters."

  He grinned. "See, what did I tell you? Hope he put you next to Tirax. It would serve you right after all your suspicions."

  She smiled wryly, not bothering to belabor the point that a gilded cage is still a cage. So far Aernath had been right in his predictions but she still harbored that cold 'if' whenever she thought of home. Kang held the key, but did he ever intend to use it?

  The lab shipshape once more, Aernath invited her to eat with him in science mess as Kang and his lieutenants were winding up a couple of days of meetings planetside. "And I'd give my glory fruit bush to know what they're talking about. There's a full hand of cruisers in orbit here right now, and a Romulan ship, too. I sure hope the Tseni virus hasn't hit any new planets."

  Eager to exploit her new status, Jean readily accepted Aernath's invitation. The mess room was largely empty. Most of the crew, being from Tahrn, were apparently taking shore leave. Not surprisingly the xenozoologist who joined them was from Peneli. She listened as he and Aernath exchanged snippets of rumor and speculation about Peneli. The conversation turned to their stay on Tahrn. Aernath reported not only their success but also the latest inroads of the famine and the populace's response to more stringent rationing.

  "It's a grim time," the zoologist agreed. He gestured at the half-empty room. "Those who've taken shore leave come back with similar reports." He shook his head. "I've no desire to revisit Tahrn at a time like this." The two Klingons lapsed into a gloomy silence.

  Jean changed the subject. "Then you've been on Tahrn before?"

  "Yes, I did field work here for some time."

  "Perhaps you can identify an animal for me. No one at the station recognized it from my description." She described her orange furred fisher.

  "Sounds like a boryx—not too common. Nasty little beast."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "There are two varieties: barred and plain. Won't share a territory. Vicious fighters—the males castrate each other frequently. So they aren't too common. But that's nothing to what you'll face on Klairos. Now there's a planetful of nasty creatures."

  "You've been there, too?" she asked.

  "Nope. Wouldn't mind spending some time there collecting specimens—if I had a healthy supply of photon torpedoes and a reliable scanner alarm. They come at you from air, land and marsh."

  "Sounds like a great place for a quiet little agricultural experiment." She grimaced. "I'm not sure I want to know, but what can we look forward to?"

  Among the zoological delights that awaited them according to him were the dagger-tooth: a 120 kilo, furred predator of the mountains; the greater snowbird with a three-meter wingspread and talons that could carry off a full-grown Klingon; plus a host of uncatalogued amphibians that made the marshes acutely inhospitable. Dr. Eknaar joined them as the zoologist completed his description of one amphibian that sounded to Jean very much like the mythical Terran dragon she had heard of from her grandfather's fairy tales.

  "Some of their microscopic creatures aren't too pleasant either," the doctor added. "At least for Klingons. My guess is they'd work about the same on human physiology. You better come by with Aernath tomorrow and start your immunizations."

  "Thanks, I will."

  As they recycled their trays Aernath remarked, "Well, I think I'll go play a little tsungu down in Security and see what I can pick up about the conclave. Want me to see you to quarters first?"

  She shook her head decisively. "No thanks. I can get myself
there." It wasn't exactly home territory, but the cruiser had a familiar feel to her now. She was prepared to use her new freedom of movement aboard to the hilt. She passed through the corridors unchallenged and the guard at her door merely nodded as she approached. At the door she touched the interior thumb lock. It worked. Casually she asked, "Will you be here all night?"

  "If you wish."

  "I do not," she replied firmly. "You may go. Good night." When she checked a moment later he was gone.

  She thumbed the lock and cheerfully made for the head. Inside she looked with sudden dismay at the opposite wall. There was another door obviously connecting to adjoining quarters. The door leading to her quarters had a thumblock but this one had none. Whoever occupied the other room could lock her out but she could not reciprocate. Her new sense of security and confidence evaporated as she recalled Aernath's joking comment. Had Kang put her next to Tirax? There was no sound audible from the other room but she knew Tirax was with Kang. Well, no shower tonight she decided. Quickly completing her toilet, she went back to survey her room thoughtfully.

  Pulling off her boots she slipped out her dagger, then installed herself with pillow and blanket on the floor of her clothes locker, leaving one door slightly ajar. Not especially comfortable but it afforded a measure of cover in case of an uninvited visitor. She spent a cramped but otherwise uneventful night.

  The cruiser had left orbit by morning. After a call at sick bay for immunizations, they spent the day viewing tapes on Klairos. Jean learned that among the customs Aernath had characterized as odd and primitive were the practice of having several children, an extremely low status for women even by Klingon standards, and direct patrilineal inheritance. Of the latter he said, "Barbaric custom. Very antisocial. You can't maintain a decent social structure with an ingrown system like that."

  Apparently, the bewildering system of inheritance through the maternal uncle fostered a set of interrelationships and loyalties that were of great value in Klingon society. Someday she must explore this in more detail. At the moment their task was to make plans for introducing the new grains here. They would be arriving at the end of winter and would need to get underway at once as the growing season in the mountain highlands was very short for their purposes.

  "It would be extremely helpful if we could field-test it in the lowlands as well," he fretted. "I hope we can requisition at least one small section of polderland while we're there."

  "That would mean a full twenty day gain in growing season but a lot more moisture. May drop the protein a bit. It'll be interesting to see what happens." Given the choice, she would have preferred to be working in Federation territory. Nonetheless, Jean was caught up in the rising excitement of another chance to test her strain's performance under diverse conditions. And, she hoped, halt a famine in the process.

  She returned to her quarters at the end of the day to find the guard had a message. "The commander sent a package for you and expects you for dinner."

  The package was a dress of some soft shimmering material. Kang must be pleased indeed, she reflected as she dressed for dinner. Perhaps she should approach him not only about security from her adjoining crewmember but also with the question of her release. They had heard no reports of any virus spread beyond the three original planets. If work went as well on Klairos as it had on Tahrn, surely Aernath could tackle the problem on his own planet without her aid. If she could get Kang to give his word now, she could face the months on Klairos with equanimity. If … if … if … finally there was that last cold "if" still sitting on the threshold of her consciousness. In spite of Aernath's assurances, could she really trust a Klingon commander to deal fairly with someone from the Federation? Especially this one? But tonight she felt optimistic. She greeted the guard almost gaily. "Commander's quarters please and then you may go for the night."

  She was surprised to find Kang's quarters were close, in fact, around the corner on the next corridor. He seemed geniunely pleased to see her. "You're very formal this evening, my dear."

  She smoothed her skirt with unaccustomed diffidence. "Well, it is a beautiful gown and it seemed appropriate to wear."

  "Of course. What I meant is I expected you to come through from your quarters." As they entered his room, he gestured to the opposite door.

  Suddenly the geometry clicked and Jean realized her quarters adjoined his. She laughed in instant relief at being delivered from Tirax. Seeing his questioning look, she explained, "I was afraid you had put me next to Tirax. Aernath said it would serve me right for being so suspicious."

  "Yes, both Aernath and Tirax have reported your … um … antipathy." He smiled. "It's a pity. He is one of my top lieutenants. Do you realize what a formidable enemy you have made?"

  "It's his choice not mine. I bear no enmity toward anyone unless they mean to destroy the Federation." She stared pointedly at Kang.

  The Klingon nodded. "Tirax feels the Federation is soft and can be easily defeated. I do not share that view but it is important that I hear it—that Tirax sit on my council. It has not interfered with his loyalty to me nor my ability to meet situations flexibly. Can you live with that?"

  Jean returned his gaze. "It looks as though I'll have to. But you know my feelings on the matter."

  He sighed. "I wonder …" He stowed his gun and brought out a bottle and a small wine glass which he set on the table.

  "Speaking of my feelings: the work has gone well. It promises to be a success. You once said that if we succeeded I could name my price. I'd like to name it now."

  He glanced up from filling the glass. "What is offered is not enough?" He seemed suprised.

  A gilded cage … thought Jean tiredly. "No."

  "Very well. Name your price."

  "Release me. I want my freedom."

  He smiled again. "Appropriate. Consider it done." He took the wine glass and solemnly spilled a single drop before the image in the niche. Facing her he asked, "Will you share my cup?" She nodded. He raised it in formal salute. "For survival and success—yours and mine." He took a sip and handed the glass to her.

  Intent on his long awaited promise, she took the glass and repeated the toast, "For survival and success—yours and mine." As he seemed to expect it, she drained the glass and handed it back to him. He set it carefully before the image, then turned back to her. "Will you arrange to return me to the Federation after the tour on Klairos?"

  Again he looked surprised. "Return you after Klairos? That would be decidedly premature. For one, you know entirely too much to be released soon to say nothing of other considerations …"

  "Well, if not then …" then when?" Jean demanded in dismay. The icy "if" plunged full across the threshold.

  "In good time, my dear, in good time. But as for now …" She suddenly found herself in Kang's grip. It happened when she least expected it. Fearing that ultimate tribute exacted of women by triumphant adversaries from time unrecorded, she struggled desperately, but he held her as easily as an Aldebaranian jequard holds her kit. He pulled her to him forcing her lips against his. That same cold fury with which she twice had fronted Tirax rose again. Wrenching her lips free she hissed, "Let go of me! Don't touch me." To her peripheral astonishment he released her. Trembling with fury, she faced him. "All right. You've got your pawn and symbol! I'm powerless to do anything about that. But so help me, if you try to lay a hand on me I'll kill myself and take you along in the process if I can!"

  Kang seemed stunned for an instant, then his face contorted with anger. His voice was low and menacing. "Get out of here before I save you the trouble of killing yourself. Get out!" With the last words he seized the wine glass and hurled it at her. She fled to the sound of shattering glass; through to her room, out her door, and down empty corridors to the lab. There she locked the door and proceeded to barricade it with miscellaneous moveable lab equipment.

  Alone with the icy conviction that she now had no hope of seeing Federation territory again, she waited for the inevitable assault on the door. Me
thodically she went through the lab collecting her seed. It made a considerable pile. As she worked she attempted to marshal her thoughts. Damn! She'd been such a fool to think one could trust a Klingon. Obviously Kang had never had any intention of releasing her. But Aernath was the worst. Sometimes he seemed so human that she'd let herself be persuaded by his apparent conviction and had relaxed her vigilance. No more. She paused with her hand on the handle of the disintegrator chute.

  Stick-limbed children with pinched faces marched in front of her eyes. She brushed her hand angrily across her forehead as if this would physically dispel them. She would not let that hold her hostage any more. She tried to banish it with images of home, her friends, Starfleet, the Enterprise. That was where her loyalty lay. What she got was an image of the Enterprise officers as she had last seen them from Kang's bridge. Strangely it didn't help. That vague unease she had felt at Captain Kirk's last words returned again. Something she felt she ought to remember but it just eluded her grasp … something Spock had said … 'there are always choices'? … no, something else … 'considerable latitude'? … it wouldn't come …

  She smiled bitterly to herself. What choices would the Vulcan find in her situation now? She saw precious few. Dump the seed in the disintegrator and try to destroy as much else as she could before she was stopped. Or … wait. She waited.

  She must have fallen asleep. Noises at the door awakened her. It must be Aernath; no one else could unlock it from outside if she had locked it properly. Slipping out her dagger she waited by the disintegrator as the door slid open. She heard his angry muttering as he pushed through the tangle of equipment she had piled in front. Then he caught sight of her. "Jean! What in the name of space is going on here?"

  So they sent you, did they? What do they think you're going to do—talk to me again, 'explain' everything? More lies, more promises? Or are you just a diversion while they break in from another direction?"