Gemini (27 page)

“Precisely,” said Spock, whose thoughts, Kirk was sure, paralleled his. But he kept this to himself; of the
Enterprise
crew, only he, Spock, McCoy, Chapel, and Scotty knew the princes were still alive

“I admit it's something of a long shot,” said Kirk, tapping a button on his chair arm, “but it's the only horse we've got. Chief Giotto, Kirk here. I need a couple of people for a landing party that might get a little rough.”

“Glad to be of service, sir,”
crackled back Giotto's voice.

“Meet me in transporter room three. Kirk out.” He rose from the conn and looked at the crew members at the helm. “Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov? Feel like stretching your legs?”

“Yes, sir,” said Sulu, fervently.

“Absolutely, Captain,” said Chekov.

“Lieutenant Uhura, you've got the conn.”

“Yes, sir,” came Uhura's emphatic reply.

“Spock, you're with me,” Kirk said, heading for the turbolift. “Let's go, gentlemen.” As though he'd have to ask them twice.

* * *

In sickbay, Abon and Delor faced each other over a surgical cart they had turned into a makeshift card table. “Another game?” asked Abon.

“No.” Delor shrugged, irritably. He rose and paced the room, still conscious of his newfound freedom of being able to move as he, and he alone, desired. “I wish we could leave this place.”

“What we wish matters little,” said Abon. “For the first time in our lives,” he added, slowly. After a lifetime of rather pampered treatment, fully acknowledging that someone wanted you dead was not the easiest fact to grasp. But Kirk had ordered them to stay put, disallowing them any outside activity, even if disguised. He referred to their single sortie to bedevil Regent Lonal—who had finally returned to Nador, after doubling his security guard, determined to enjoy his short reign as much as possible—as a one-time (and quite enjoyable) exception.

“Much is new, these days,” said Delor with a nod, sitting down again. “The fact that we may view each other, face-to-face, for instance.”

“The separation has brought us both good and ill,” said Abon. “The storms, for instance.”

“This has occurred to me, yes,” said Delor, after a few seconds.

“Our newfound freedom endangers others. I had not thought that would be the case.”

“There is little we can do about it,” replied Delor. He looked up, to find his brother staring at him and looking, for once, not at all like himself. “Is there?”

“There may be,” said Abon, his words slow and measured. “If the storms come from our
mutual
psionic potential, then … ” He looked down. “If there were only one of us … ”

“I don't like that idea very much,” said Delor.

“Nor do I,” said Abon. “But if our continued existence endangers our planet, our subjects—” He waved a hand around him. “—even this mighty starship, can we be responsible for that?”

“How would we decide,” asked Delor, idly. “Cast lots? Draw straws?” He reached out and grasped the deck of cards before him. “Cut the cards?” He shuffled the deck Dr. McCoy had given them and looked at the king of spades, smiling mirthlessly. “Or perhaps we could return—” His voice trailed off, the thought unspoken.

“I don't know,” said Abon, tonelessly. “But there must be a solution.”

“We don't need to think about it now,” replied Delor, dealing the cards.

“Perhaps not, but we will need to think about it soon,” said Abon, trying to ignore the tingling on the back of his neck.

* * *

“You've got it, Scotty?” asked Kirk.

“Aye, sir,” said Mr. Scott, dutifully. “When Uhura's established contact, I'll beam you down t'the reception point—” Kirk started to speak and Scotty nodded patiently. “—after makin' sure our friends on the other end haven't planted any nasty surprises like that gizmo that scuttled the princes' transmission beam. Though,” he said, after a moment's consideration, “that did make it easier t'explain the faked transporter malfunction.”

“I'll tell them you were impressed by their thoughtfulness,” said Kirk, strapping on phaser and communicator. The door hissed open and Chief Giotto and Lieutenant Sinclair entered and took their places on the pad. “Phasers on stun. Welcome, Lieutenant, always room for one more at the party.”

“I'll save you a dance, sir,” she grinned, smoothing back a lock of blond hair. From Giotto's expression he thought the security chief seemed about to dress Sinclair down for what Giotto, who was rather spit-and-polish, doubtless considered insolence, but Kirk met his gaze and shook his head slightly. He approved of free spirits, as long as they knew when to rein back, and Sinclair's youth had not blinded Kirk to the fact that she performed with expertise beyond her years.

“Are ye ready, Uhura?” asked Scotty, into the intercom in the transporter console.

“When you are, Scotty,”
came Uhura's voice. Scotty looked at Kirk intently, head cocked slightly to one side.

“Transmit,” Kirk said.

It all happened too quickly to voice: the activated transmission to somewhere on Nador that was quickly received, Uhura's signal to Scotty, then Scotty's quick, skilled manipulation of the beam. The transporter room blurred before Kirk's vision.

When things became clear again, he found himself breathing heavy, rather dank air, heard the smallest sounds echoing back immediately. A cave, then, possibly with a spring or underground river nearby. What little light there was seemed to come from far off, around a bend in the tunnel. “Spock?” he whispered.

“Approximately five meters underground,” came the first officer's soft reply, as he consulted his tricorder. The Vulcan was still a blur to Kirk; Spock's eyes were adjusting much more quickly. “The mouth of the cave is in that direction,” Spock continued, pointing toward the faint smear of light.

“Then we'll go this way,” said Kirk, heading deeper into the darkness. Spock joined him at point, with Sulu and Chekov in the middle, and Giotto and Sinclair bringing up the rear.

“I detect no life signs,” said Spock, softly, “though it is possible that diverse ores in the cavern's structure may be interfering with my tricorder; they would doubtless pose an obstacle to an effective scan.”

“A good place for a hideout,” said Kirk.

“Or an ambush,” added Sulu.

Suddenly, something skittered into the middle of their group, something thrown from not far away. A small, metallic object, to judge by the racket it made … .

“Scatter!” The six dove, as behind them came a gush of light and heat.
A flare of some sort,
thought Kirk.
They're not sure who they're up against yet.
And whoever had thrown the flare had made a crucial error. Since it was thrown into the middle of the group, they were able to face away from it, their eyes shielded from the worst effects of the splash of light.

In the brief burst of luminescence, Kirk saw a wider alcove farther back in the cave, probably their base.

“Maneuver five!” he called, and immediately the landing party formed two rows of three members, the front row with its backs to the second row. They drew phasers and sprayed fire in all directions, knowing that whoever they hit, it wouldn't be one of their own.

Immediately, return fire came in the form of familiar controlled force beams. In the strobing light of the conflicting fire, Kirk tapped Spock, who was to his back, on the shoulder and the two of them broke from the party, crawling rapidly on their hands and knees, while the remainder of their group continued to lay down covering fire.

The flashes from the phasers began to dim as they put some distance between them; Kirk's eyes were acclimating to the darkness, and he and Spock made for the wider alcove he had spied earlier.

Rounding a curve in the cave, Kirk and Spock rose to full height and crept along, their backs hugging the cavern wall. Ahead, Kirk could hear—and began to see—faint forms skittering through the darkness, making more noise than they needed to. Were they that careless, or—?

Kirk suddenly wheeled and laid down a hail of phaser fire, aimed at the other side of the cave. In the brief illumination of his salvo, he saw furtive forms there, crumpling as the phaser 1 bursts struck them. He had been right: the noise made had been an attempt to distract Kirk and Spock from an attack from behind.

Scrabbling across the cave, Kirk grabbed the weapons his targets had dropped. He tossed one to Spock, who caught it nimbly and nodded.

Kirk remained silent now, and still, waiting for any other enemies concealed deeper in the cave to make themselves known. After a few seconds, only silence came from the depths. But Kirk wasn't convinced.

Hearing a soft footfall behind him, Kirk swiveled, Starfleet phaser in one hand, Nadorian weapon in the other. But it was only the rest of the landing party, making their way to him and Spock.

“Any progress, sir?” hissed Giotto.

“We think there are more of them holed up back there,” whispered Kirk. “I could be wrong, but it's not a chance I'm willing to take.”

“We could toss a couple of gas grenades down there, sir,” said Sulu.

“They could attack under cover of the gas,” replied Kirk. “I am open to suggestions.”

“We have a couple of allies in this situation, sir,” said Giotto, slyly, “whether they're aware of it or not.”

* * *

Minutes later, in the depths of the cave, five people hugged the rock walls, nearly motionless, waiting for the intruders to advance or retreat. Given that the intruders were Federation, they were both cowards and imperialists, eager to conquer and mold other, peaceful civilizations to their will. The only certainty was that they would not remain still. If they chose to advance, they would be caught in a crossfire. If they retreated, the lurkers would catch up to them and shoot them from behind. It was nearly foolproof.

Just then, they heard rapid footsteps and noises that seemed to come from the throats of animals. But no; as the sounds grew louder, they were human, but muffled, as if wounded.

The footsteps grew louder now, and faster. The layer of dust the intruders' invasion had stirred up was pierced by Nadorian weaponry.

One lurker, to whom the others seemed to look, made a number of gestures. These motions had never been called anything so formal as an official code, but those who saw him knew what they meant:

The Federation people are fleeing, when they round the corner, merge our fire with that of our brothers!

Those not close enough to make out the gestures saw them repeated as they were passed along.

The footfalls became louder, as did the wail of the force beams that followed them. Finally, fleeing human forms could be made out through the floating dust. At last the lurkers drew their weapons and fired. The fleeing forms fell, and the lurkers emerged from the crevices and crags of the cave walls, the better to see their prey.

Or what they thought was their prey. “Wait!” called their leader. He saw more clearly now forms with their hands bound to their sides, their mouths gagged; only their legs had remained unbound.

And he recognized the forms.

“These are our people! Scatter, before—!”

Too late. From out of the darkness came phaser fire, felling the lurkers easily. Some managed to turn and flee, but not very far, nor for very long.

* * *

“Good thinking, Chief,” said Kirk, as they neared the unconscious quarry.

“It's economical, if nothing else, sir,” said Giotto. “The only people in the crossfire are your enemies.”

“They don't seem to have sustained any long-range ill effects, Captain,” said Chekov. “Fortunately for them, their allies weren't shooting to kill.”

“That earns them some consideration, I guess,” said Kirk. “Bind the legs of our bait, we don't want them running out on us. Then remove the gags of their friends. I want to have a little talk with them.”

“I will tell you nothing—” said the leader, some minutes later.

“Except your name, rank, and serial number, I know.” Kirk sighed.

“We are in no formal army!” shouted another, who looked to be one of the youngest members of the group. “We—”

Whatever he was about to say had been severely truncated. The eldest member, who seemed to be the leader, had managed, despite having his legs bound, to pull back and kick the younger man with both heels. “Hey, none of that!” said Sinclair, pulling them apart.

“We know all we need to know about who you are,” said Kirk, leaning against an outcropping of rock. He turned his head and called off, “Spock?”

“I believe you are correct, Captain,” said the science officer. He approached the landing party and their captives from farther back in the cavern, brandishing a flashlight, which they could now use in safety. “If you'll come this way?”

“Yes, I think we're in the right place,” said Kirk with a nod, surveying the contents of the cavern. A few cots, some cooking utensils, and some dried foods indicated that the area had been used as living quarters, but the Nadorian flag hanging on a cavern wall—as well as the Federation flag hanging on the facing wall, besmirched with stains Kirk refused to recognize—identified the cavern's inhabitants as pro-Nadorian terrorists. If further proof of their intent were needed, next to the defiled Federation flag was a similarly defaced banner bearing the likenesses of Princes Abon and Delor.

“They also have large caches of literature,” said Spock, “extolling the virtues of all true Nadorians and the vices of those of extraplanetary origin. A sizable list, in both cases.”

Kirk played the beam of his own flashlight over the faces of their captives. “I recognize some of them. They were in the crowds of anti-Federation protesters.”

“Protesting is our right!” rasped one of the prisoners. “We have done nothing illegal!”