Star Trek: Brinkmanship (30 page)

The man with ridges on his face looked down at her palm. He took the device and stood up.

“This is it,” he said. “The last of the data. This is what we need.”

The one with three arms looked at him uncertainly. Its arms were hovering over a display of flashing lights. “What about your operative?”

“Too late,” said the ridged man. “We have to go.
We can’t wait. Besides, she’s probably dead already. Why else would she have given it to this one?”

“Mayazan!” Corazame cried. “Maymi! She gave it to me. She said to give it to the man with the ridges. She let me go. She saved me from the enforcers.” She looked wildly around the room. “You’re aliens, aren’t you? You’re all aliens. You all come from different worlds.” Suddenly everything became too much, and a great empty fear washed over her. Her hands began to gesticulate, as if they would somehow instinctively know the right moves to make, the right signals to send. The colors of her skin began to flare out of control. “Oh, help me! This one begs for help. This one assures you of her gratitude, her loyalty, her devotion. Oh, please, do not hurt her. Do not send her back!”

Her fear turned to terror when the enforcer kneeled down beside her. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw the same kindness that Inzegil had shown when she had placed her hand upon her head. He took hold of her hands, but she didn’t feel the same charge.
I will never feel that again. I will never feel the fullest touch from a friend . . .

“Ret,” the enforcer said, “everything’s fine. Look at me. Look right into my eyes. Everything’s fine.”

He touched her chin and gently lifted her head up so that she could not help looking at him. He reminded her of Hertome. Hertome, who had been good to serve.

“My name’s Peter. Do you hear that? Can you say it? Peter?”

“Peteh.”

“Good! Well done! Now tell me your name. Your full name.”

She stared deep into his unblinking eyes and obeyed what she saw there. “This one is called Corazame. Corazame Ret Ata-E.”

“Corazame,” he said. “Cory. It’s okay. You’ll be fine. I’ll look after you, Cory. You don’t have to be afraid.” He kept his eyes steadily upon her. She thought that he looked very kind. He said, “Trust me.”

I do,
she thought, grasping his hand as if it was the only link left to life.
I always will. I
must.

Week 3
Blink

FROM:
Civilian Freighter
Inzitran,
flagship, Merchant Fleet 9

TO:
Ementar Vik Tov-A, senior designated speaker, Active Affairs, Department of the Outside

STATUS:
Estimated time to border: 0.25 skyturn
Estimated time to destination: 4.5 skyturns

We are monitoring high levels of activity on the border. Cardassian
and
Starfleet vessels are present. What are your instructions? Repeat: What are your instructions?

D
etrek, joining Picard, Jeyn, and Crusher in the observation lounge on the
Enterprise
, was a new woman. There was almost a spring in her step. Crusher didn’t blame her. She was feeling pretty pleased with herself too.

“Negotiator Detrek,” said Picard. “I assume explanations are forthcoming?”

“Indeed they are,” Detrek said. “The agent that the
Aventine
was sent to collect has, for the past two years, been in deep cover at the Tzenkethi Department of the Outside—their foreign affairs office. Through the information collected by her, our intelligence bureau became aware of irregular relationships between officials at that department and several attachés at our own embassy on Ab-Tzenketh. You know how it is,” she said. “People go native. They start to see the possibility of friendship—”

“That’s no bad thing,” Crusher said.

“No,” acknowledged Detrek, “except when they begin to lose sight of why they were sent to a world in the first place. They are there to look after the interests of their own people rather than the people of the world with which they are enamored.”

“So some of your embassy staff on Ab-Tzenketh had become overly friendly with Tzenkethi officials?” said Jeyn. “Doctor Crusher’s right, Negotiator. This happens. This is the risk we run when we send embassies to other worlds. To some extent it’s what we hope will happen—that these links will turn into friendships, and these friendships will give us pause before we go to war.”

“These friendships went farther than the usual sparring and bonhomie at diplomatic functions, Ambassador. Two of our attachés were discovered to have links to a splinter group unhappy with our alliance with you
and keen to forge closer links with the Typhon Pact. These same two have a great deal of influence over a number of rising politicians.”

Picard was appalled. “If they’d established themselves and their agenda, that might in time have put Cardassian membership of the Khitomer Accords into danger.”

“You understand our concerns, Captain,” Detrek said. “And the concern of your president. And so I hope”—she looked at each of them in turn—“that you will forgive the performance that I had to give on Venette. I wanted them in an uproar, Captain. I wanted these conspirators terrified. I wanted them to make mistakes.”

“A little warning might have been good,” said Jeyn.

“Or might have been enough to make Alizome more cautious,” Detrek said. “Alizome did not think she could lose. But, if I understand your Earth legends correctly, hubris is often followed in short order by nemesis.”

“Pride comes before a fall,” said Crusher. “So your agent? What was this crucial evidence she had? How is it going to help? I assume this was why the
Aventine
was dashing to the border.”

“You’re correct, Doctor. What our agent saw should be enough to undermine Venetan confidence in the Tzenkethi.”

“How?” said Crusher. “What does it matter to the Venetans if the Tzenkethi have been trying to influence Cardassian foreign policy? Isn’t that simply your
own concern? My apologies, Negotiator, I’m just trying to understand.”

“No, it’s a good question, Doctor.” Detrek smiled around at the three of them. “I think you’re going to like my answer. The Tzenkethi, you see, couldn’t help taking out a little extra insurance policy. It wasn’t enough simply to
persuade
our staff to their side. They tried to blackmail them. Imagine the meeting: ‘So often we’ve met! So many good times together! What do you think your superiors will think of that?’ That’s our winning move.
That’s
what our agent saw—even if she didn’t know what she was seeing.”

“Ha!” said Picard, with barely suppressed delight. “One scheme too many. Game, set, and match!”

“Sometimes you can prepare too carefully,” Detrek said with a sly smile. “Blackmail, Doctor. I believe that Rusht will be
very
interested to hear about that.”

•   •   •

But it was Vitig who spoke to them. Rusht, she told them, was too ill to participate further in discussions.

“So you see, Vitig,” Picard said, “the court of the Autarch has been trying to undermine Cardassian foreign policy, but not through gestures of friendship or even through solid debate. Covertly. Suborning staff at the Cardassian embassy on Tzenketh, attempting to place them at the heart of the Cardassian government, and then blackmailing them to ensure their compliance.”

The Venetan woman considered the evidence that had been presented.
“This is troubling information,”
she said.
“This is not the Venetan way.”

“We don’t ask you to like us, Vitig,” Picard said frankly. “You have no reason after all that has happened between us. But we ask you to consider whether we are better or worse than your friends. We ask you to consider whether Tzenkethi untrustworthiness might not also extend to what they say about those ships that are still en route here.”

“I shall speak to Alizome,”
Vitig said.
“I shall ask for explanations.”
She cut the comm.

“That’s it,” said Crusher. “We’ve got her. Explanations? Alizome can’t give any. None that will satisfy the Venetans.”

FROM:
Ementar Vik Tov-A, senior designated speaker, Active Affairs, Department of the Outside

TO:
Civilian Freighter
Inzitran,
flagship, Merchant Fleet 9

Stop.

“They’ve stopped,” confirmed Worf. “They are turning back.”

An audible sigh of relief passed around the bridge of the
Enterprise.

“Thank you, Commander Worf.” Picard relaxed and sat back in his chair. “Well, it seems there’s to be no war.”

“Not today,” said Worf.

•   •   •

Dax was pleasantly surprised to see the sweet silver face on the viewscreen in her ready room.

“Heldon! How can I help you?”

“I hope that I may be able to help
you
, Dax. We did some tests here, during the blockade. Took another look at that explosive device we found
.”

Dax’s stomach sank. “Oh, yes?”

“I think you should know that it’s possible—only possible, mind you—that the bomb was of Tzenkethi origin.”

“What?” Dax fell back into her chair.

“Although I’m not sure exactly how to interpret this information. Your people could have intended me to discover this in the long run.”
She gave a wry smile.
“Do you see, Dax? I’m learning. I’m starting to think your way.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“So am I.”
Heldon sighed.
“But the doubt is there now. Was it your people, in desperation, or with some scheme in mind? Or was it our Tzenkethi guests, with ample opportunity and good reason to want to make us doubt you? I imagine I’ll never know.”

“I’ll never know either.”

“Life is uncertain, Dax. But we can choose how to live with that uncertainty.”
She leaned forward to cut off the comm.
“My best wishes to you. I hope you pass
this way again in more certain times. I hope we have the opportunity to meet in friendship.”

•   •   •

She was glad that Inzegil Ter Mak-B was the one to take her. She had liked this young woman with the authority and sense of certainty she carried with her. She had been comforted by her. She trusted her. The young enforcer strode toward her, taking in the scene—the body sprawled on the ground, the Ret kneeling before her—and ordered, “Speak. Speak quickly. You have permission not to address me as your Ap-Rej.”

“He came in the middle of the night,” Efheny whispered, gesturing down toward Hertome. “He threatened us. He made us come with him, all this way. We were so afraid!” She looked around the bare hilltop and shivered. “It’s so lonely out here!”

The other enforcer, not Inzegil, said sharply, “Both of you? Where’s the other one?”

“Let her explain in her own time,” Inzegil said. She knelt in front of Efheny. She was grave and kind. “Carry on, Ret Mayazan. Tell me what happened.”

“We got here,” Efheny said. “Then Cory, Corazame . . . Oh, I don’t understand what happened to her! She changed. She turned on the Ap-Rej and she killed him. It was so horrible. And then . . . Please, forgive me, but this is true. In the Autarch’s name, this is true. She
disappeared,
Ap-Rej! Her body rippled, and she disappeared.” She looked unblinkingly into Inzegil’s eyes, willing her to believe her words. “How can that happen? How can that
happen
?”

“Be quiet, Ret Mayazan,” Inzegil said gently. “Do not distress yourself.” Slowly, Inzegil helped her stand. “You have been brave. Now you are safe again.” Her voice was so very kind. “You must not trouble yourself further,” she said. “You did all that could be done by one like you. My colleague and I will take your story to our superiors, and they will judge what should be done.”

She put her arm around Efheny’s shoulder, guiding her away from the body and down the hill. Her colleague gripped Efheny’s arm. “Inzegil’s right,” he said, and his voice was kind now too, much kinder than before. “You need not concern yourself with these matters anymore.”

“We are going to take you back to the boat,” Inzegil said in a clear voice, using plain words. “After that, we will take you back to the city. You can complete your restorative leave there. We will find you a peaceful place where you can rest for a while longer. You have earned it. You have been very brave.”