“They think we’re going to hurt the adults,” Maslin said as he uncrated the synthesizer.
“And we’ve confused them by not heading up the cliffs to kill the older ones,” Uhura added, pulling off the protective wrapping that covered the keyboards of the synthesizer. “After all, their only experience with humans has been with hunters.”
“Well, maybe after they see we’re not going to hurt them they’ll start to approach us. I want to start mimicking their sounds back at them, and start building up a vocabulary in the synthesizer.”
Kirk, who had been perambulating from group to group, lending a hand and overseeing security’s defenses, paused at Maslin and Uhura. “We may be able to convince them that we’re not going to hurt them, but what about our Klingon friends? Let’s just hope they don’t get trigger-happy, or decide to play soccer with the cubs.”
“But they’re so cute, how could anybody hurt them?” Maslin objected.
“Cute doesn’t mean a lot to a Klingon,” Uhura said. “Remember the tribbles,” she added to Kirk.
The captain put a hand over his eyes. “Oh God, don’t remind me. Let’s just hope the Taygetians and the Klingons don’t arouse that kind of antipathy in one another.”
“Have I missed something?”
“Another story,” Uhura said, touching Maslin on the arm. “But one that you should hear. I’ll tell you later.”
“Well, let’s get back to it,” Kirk said, glancing up and down the beach. “The Klingons will be here soon, and I want us set up by then.”
“You don’t anticipate trouble do you, Captain?” Maslin asked.
“I may not anticipate trouble, Mr. Maslin, but I’m always prepared for it,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel very confident,” Maslin confided in an undertone to Uhura.
“It should. It’s Captain Kirk’s preparations that have saved us in a good many encounters.”
Kor watched as Kali strapped on her holstered disruptor, and tied it down with the thigh belt. The thin leather strap was a macho affectation that never ceased to amuse him, but it was not all for show. Despite her fragile beauty Kali was an intelligent, well-trained and highly capable female. In fact, she was one of the best sharpshooters in the Imperial fleet. As he watched the way her hair fell forward to caress her cheek he felt his heart squeezed with love for his young bride, and he almost regretted his decision to include her in the landing party.
As if she had read his mind she looked over at him where he lay on the bed and said, “I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“I too, my love, but I need you there to keep an eye on Quarag and Jennas.”
“If there’s going to be trouble it’s going to start here. I don’t like to think of you facing Karsul alone.”
“I can handle Karsul, and if I can’t your presence isn’t going to make any difference.”
“At least I would be with you.”
“My dear, they aren’t going to let us die nobly together. You at least will be spared.”
“I know. That’s what worries me.”
“Come here,” he said, gesturing with one hand. She came to his side, and he pulled her down next to him on the bed. He pressed his lips against her silky hair, breathing in the sweet smell of her perfume. “I don’t want to send you from my side, but I need you to watch not only our own people but the humans as well. With you there I will know I am getting accurate information.”
“Quarag is in command of the landing party. It is he who will make the daily reports.”
“True, but you will contact me every evening on a scrambled, closed beam to this cabin.”
“Communications will pick up the private transmission.”
“Let them. That will keep Karsul guessing, and perhaps a little off-balance.”
“Keep them guessing,” she repeated, rubbing his black hair. “I think that should be your motto.”
“If we live long enough to start a family it shall be the code of our house.” He smiled, and she tugged at one end of his trailing moustache.
“You are impossible, but I’ll keep you. Am I not to see you again until this mission is over, or will you come to the planet?”
“I expect I’ll beam down at least once. I want to take a firsthand look at these Taygetians.”
“Do you really think the answer is on the planet?”
“No, but if the humans send down a party I must counter them. Strategy, my dear.”
“No, politics, my dear,” she mimicked sarcastically. “Now I must go.” She pressed a kiss onto his lips, and bounced off the bed. “I will contact you tonight.”
He rose with a grunt, and smoothed down the front of his tunic. “I’ll walk you to the transporter room. That far at least I can go with you.”
The rest of the landing party was milling about in the transporter room when they arrived. Kor crossed to the officer behind the transporter console.
“Are the humans down yet?”
“Yes sir, some twenty minutes ago.”
“Excellent. Put the landing party down one-half mile from their camp.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Kor,” Kali said quietly, crossing to his side. “Is that wise? You will be putting a great deal of stress on both parties.”
“I want them to be nervous. It wouldn’t do to have them too cocky.”
She gave him a quizzical look and shook her head. “Keep them guessing?”
“Absolutely.” The landing party began to arrange themselves on the transporter platform. Kor took Kali by the shoulders and looked down into her face. “Survive and succeed,” he said softly.
“I will. See to it that you do the same,” she added in a low voice.
He nodded and released her, stepping back to stand by the console. She seemed a small figure among the tall, heavyset males who surrounded her. There were several flashes, and the landing party was gone. Kor stifled a sigh, and headed for the bridge. He felt very isolated with Kali gone, and he hoped he could maintain the delicate balance he was treading between the Earthers and his own mutinous, ambitious crew.
Still, he thought with a fatalistic shrug, if I fail I won’t be around very long to worry about it. Karsul will see to that.
For a brief moment he wondered if Kirk were bedeviled with such problems. Somehow he doubted it.
“Company, Captain,” Scotty said with a jerk of his head. His face and tone were grim. Kirk and Spock whirled and gazed in the direction of the nod. Down the beach they saw the distinctive flashes of a Klingon transporter. Ragsdale, Brentano and Lindenbaum, the three security guards, drew their phasers and moved swiftly into cover. Scotty dropped the self-erecting tent he had been holding, and fanned out to the left flank while Uhura took out her communicator and flipped it open.
“Klingons, Mr. Kyle,” she said crisply. “Lock onto our positions, and be ready to pull us out of here if the situation should turn ugly.”
Maslin glanced nervously from the tensely alert security guards; to Kirk and Spock, gazing intently down the beach; to Scott, lovingly fingering his phaser; to Uhura, her beautiful dark face set in grim lines.
“I think I like our other company better,” Maslin muttered with a look to the Taygetian cubs who had been progressively flopping forward to investigate the human camp.
“Unfortunately you sometimes can’t choose your friends,” Uhura responded. “Why don’t you take cover.”
“What about you?”
“I can take care of myself, and it’s my job to be out here.”
“Then it’s my job to be out here too.”
“Oh Guy, why must you be so damn competitive!” she snapped irritably. “I’m trained for this. You’re not.”
“Why do you always assume that everything I do or say is motivated by ego? Has it ever occurred to you that chivalry and affection might play some part in this?”
Their eyes met, and suddenly the Klingons seemed very remote and unimportant, fo
r she saw in his eyes that which she had not wished to see. Shaken, she dropped her eyes, and for one wild moment wished she could return to earlier, simpler emotions. Flirtation—even their affair—seemed safer than the warmth, affection and, yes, love that she now found in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I had no right to make assumptions about your motives.”
“Gracious lady,” he said, touching her lightly on the cheek with one long forefinger. “Now, do I get to stay or do I have to go skulk in a tent?”
She was grateful for the return to the original topic. She had no desire to deal with this shift in their relationship right now. “I suppose you can stay. Since nobody’s started shooting yet we may be okay.”
“I thought we had a truce with the Klingons?”
“What an innocent. The Klingons’ basic law of life is that laws are made to be violated.”
“I had no idea,” he said slowly as he watched the five dark and saturnine men, and the one delicate, black-haired woman approaching. “I thought it was just propaganda to keep the tax dollars rolling in for Star Fleet.”
“Beginning to see a reason for our existence?” Uhura asked with an ironic glance. At a gesture from Kirk she holstered her phaser. The security men followed suit, but somewhat more slowly.
The five Klingons paused, and gazed curiously down at the Taygetian cubs who ringed the human camp. The cubs stared up at them fearlessly out of pale blue eyes. Uhura didn’t like the way several of the Klingon males eyed the glorious silver white pelts of the Taygetians, and she shifted nervously.
“Greetings, Kirk,” a tall, slim Klingon called as he stepped over a Taygetian. “I am Lieutenant Commander Quarag, science officer aboard the Klothos.”
“Welcome to Taygeta, Commander,” Kirk said with a faint smile.
“Are you claiming this world already that you so boldly act as if we were your guests?” Quarag smiled also, but it was a wolfish, unpleasant expression.
“Neither your Empire nor the Federation is able to lay claim to this world,” Spock interjected. “The planet is inhabited. It will be the decision of the natives to determine which, if any alliance, they desire.”
“Natives?”
“All around you,” Kirk said.
Quarag glanced about. “These animals?”
“Natives,” Kirk repeated.
“If this is some Earther trick to take this world—”
“There is no trick,” Spock said. “These are intelligent, sentient creatures. They have a complex language. That alone qualifies them for classification as a sentient race.”
“My science officer, Mr. Spock, who commands the landing party, believes there is a link between the Taygetians and the phenomenon,” Kirk said mildly.
“So we have heard,” Kali said softly. “But I fail to see why.”
The Earth party eyed her curiously, for women were rare on Klingon vessels. Only once before had they met one, and that had been Kang’s wife, Mara. Mara had been tall and angular with beautiful, but almost harsh features. Kirk had been in the habit of thinking of her as the typical Klingon woman, but this was clearly not the case, for the woman who stood before him was small and fragile. There was even a Dresden-china quality about her in spite of her honey gold skin. She seemed disconcerted by Kirk’s scrutiny, and she shifted her topaz-colored eyes away, fixing them at last upon Uhura.
“Is it because of the song?” she suddenly asked, with a quick look toward the cliffs.
“Why would you reach that conclusion?” Maslin asked, taking a step forward, and watching her intently.
“I’m not sure. There is something very compelling about the song. I feel that if I could just turn a corner in my mind I would be able to understand its meaning. It seems to speak of … well, of many things,” she finished lamely. Maslin wondered what she had really been going to say.
“You’re very astute,” Kirk said with his best smile and a warm light in his eyes which he always acquired when he was interested in a beautiful woman. “Yes, it is the song. That’s why we’ve brought one of the Federation’s best musicians.” He indicated the composer. “Mr. Guy Maslin.”
Kali nodded politely, and Quarag looked disgruntled. It was apparent that the Klingous were not prepared for a scientific inquiry that took this particular direction.
“Well, I am certain we shall make equal progress using our own methods,” Quarag said somewhat huffily.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Kirk replied. “Where are you planning to camp?”
“There,” the Klingon said, indicating a high knoll. From that vantage point the human camp would be in plain view.
“Trusting, aren’t they,” Ragsdale muttered to Brentano.
“I don’t mind them watching,” the blond security guard replied. “But I sure as hell wish they’d do it some three or four miles down the beach. I don’t like having them so close.”
“That’ll do,” Scotty snapped, catching Kirk’s irritated look, and realizing that the Klingous had overheard the security guards’ exchange. The two men looked embarrassed, and subsided.
“We will set up our camp and begin work,” Quarag stated.
Kirk nodded. “Feel free to use any of our equipment. The closer we work the more likely we are to solve this problem.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” one of the heretofore silent Klingons said with a sneer. “I doubt there is anything we could learn from Earthers.”
“Don’t be a fool, Jennas,” Kali said, exasperated. “Our first duty is to determine the cause of the space/time rip and repair it.”
“Who’s in command of this team? You or I?” Quarag demanded. “I will discipline anyone if it becomes necessary.”
“You know my authority,” the Klingon woman said cryptically.
“Your position in Kor’s bed does not give you power over me, woman!” Jennas said. “Keep to your place.”
Kirk exchanged a quick glance with Spock. He then stepped forward and lightly touched Kali on the arm. She shrank back, and he wondered if she, like Mara, had been told stories of Earth torture and death camps.
“Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.”
“My husband said you were different from most humans.”
“And I could say the same about him.”
“We will set up our camp now,” Quarag announced in an overly loud voice as he tried to reassert control, and separate Kirk and Kali.
“Do you need any help?” Kirk asked sweetly, enjoying baiting the Klingon.
“That will not be necessary,” Quarag gritted. “Come, Kali.” He turned on his heel, and marched off down the beach with his landing team trailing after him. The Taygetian cubs seemed to sense the Klingous’ anger, for they skittered nervously out of the way.
“An interesting female,” Spock said, as Kirk gazed thoughtfully after the retreating Klingons.
“Yes, very. I just wonder what she is doing here.”
“You suspect something?”
“I’m not sure. Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling that something’s not right among the Klingons.”
“Isn’t it likely to be a bonus for our side?” Scotty asked, joining the other two officers.
Kirk grimaced, and clucked dubiously. “Hard to say. Sometimes you can get hurt worse on the periphery of a dog fight than if you’re right in the middle of it. Well, we’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”
“Have you got a few minutes or are you still being Madam Star Fleet?”
Uhura looked up from the stationary tricorder she was calibrating, frowned and brushed back a trailing wisp of hair. “I thought I asked you to stop calling me that.”
Maslin shrugged. “You looked so officious it just sort of fit.”
“I am busy, not officious. These tricorders need to be placed at the perimeter of the camp. They’ll make a constant record of conditions to a radius of one hundred miles, and the information will be transmitted back to the computers aboard the Enterprise.”
“My, my, I’m impressed,” he drawled, dropping down to sit on the sand. He scooped up a handful of the micalike grains, and stared moodily at it as it trickled from between his fingers. Uhura sighed, and knelt next to him. She took his hand, dusted the clinging grains of sand from his palm and held it between her slender, dark hands.
“Is there some reason why you’re being so cranky or is it just another example of artistic temperament?” Her tone was gentle, softening the harshness of her words.
He flushed, bringing some color to his pale cheeks. “Sorry. You must get tired of me acting like a five-year-old.”
“Good heavens,” she said, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “You’re not cranky, you’re sick. A real apology from you?”
He smiled crookedly. “Oh, I occasionally remember how to behave. Just don’t get used to it—it won’t last.”
“I’m sure of that. Now, what is the matter?”
The frown descended again, and he rested his elbows on his knees, and stared out at the ocean. “I’m bored and I feel useless. Everyone is busy setting up equipment, taking readings, standing guard, while I’m just a piece of baggage.”
“It’s a little late for you to start analyzing the Taygetian song this evening. Besides, once we have the camp set up and running we’ll be moving aside for you. If anyone’s baggage it’s us. What we’ve done, we’ve done to help you, but you’re the one who has to solve the mystery of the song. We’re just here to assist.”
He touched her cheek. “You have the most amazing ability to make a person feel important.”
She turned her head, and pressed a quick kiss onto the palm of his hand. “Thank you.” She rose and brushed the sand from the knees of her pants. “Give me five more minutes, and I’ll have this finished.”
“And then?”
“And then maybe we can go for a walk.”
“Great. I want to get the feel of this place.”
“So do I, but go and check with Spock first.”
“Do we need permission to go for a walk?”
The Tears of the Singers Page 8