STAR TREK: TOS #22 - Shadow Lord

by Laurence Yep

  “But will they have your sensitivity or insight?” The prince bowed his head first to Mr. Spock and then to the doctor.

  McCoy dipped his head in an Angiran farewell, “Sensitivity and insight from Mr. Spock? Don’t tell me there’s a side to him that he keeps hidden on board the ship.”

  “Perhaps he’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” the prince suggested as he turned.

  [275] Captain Kirk folded his arms over his chest. “And what brings out the Mr. Hyde in him?”

  “I think it’s more like who, Captain.” The prince inclined his head to Kirk.

  The captain lowered his head in return and then flipped the back of his fingers toward the prince’s armor. “Surely, things aren’t so bad in this room that you had to come here with protection.”

  The prince tapped his finger against the metal cuirass. “We’re off to end the last pockets of resistance, Captain, so I thought we’d better say good-bye.”

  Urmi peered at McCoy curiously. “Are you McCoy?”

  McCoy gave a little bow. “At your service.”

  “You see, my dear.” The prince waved his hand at the doctor. “He can be just as courtly as Sulu.”

  Urmi leaned forward so she could stare at the doctor’s smiling face. “Maybe, but I at least thought he’d have fangs.” She sounded a little disappointed.

  The prince pulled Urmi back with a laugh. “Perhaps he filed them down especially for the occasion.” He nodded apologetically to the doctor. “I’m afraid your reputation has preceded you, Doctor.”

  McCoy glanced down at Mr. Spock. “Aw-oh. I think I’d better consult a lawyer.” He rubbed his hands together. “With a little luck, I might be able to attach the next ten years of Mr. Spock’s pay for the libel he’s done.”

  “Mr. Spock isn’t good at gossip,” the prince protested. “He has no head for the delicious sorts of details that set apart good gossip from bad.” He glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Sulu. “It was Sulu who described life on board the Enterprise.”

  [276] “Indeed, Mr. Sulu.” Kirk regarded Mr. Sulu with new interest.

  Sulu cleared his throat nervously, wondering if he had gotten off of one hook, only to impale himself on top of another. “It was for the sake of art, sir. The court poet wanted details for the epic he’s going to write.”

  The doctor twisted one corner of his mouth up in a sardonic grin. “About you and Spock?”

  The prince pretended to measure Spock. “Heroic trimeter will suit Spock, I think.”

  Urmi squatted down. “They’ll be singing your praises for generations, Spock.”

  “Pity the future,” McCoy mumbled.

  Spock shifted on the pallet as if he were growing increasingly uncomfortable. “I was simply performing my duties.”

  “Admirable, admirable,” the prince murmured. “I’ll have to remember that line. It will make a nice sort of refrain, don’t you think?” The prince wagged a finger at Spock. “Oh, and I was supposed to get your full name.”

  “It wouldn’t do you any good,” McCoy said. “Your poet would tear his throat apart trying to pronounce it. Vulcans have a lot of little winning ways just like that one.”

  “Spock should be sufficient,” Mr. Spock said firmly, “for poetry or otherwise.”

  “But I want to do right by you,” Urmi insisted, “especially after I misjudged you so badly.”

  Spock brought the tablet in closer to his face to shut out the others. “I merely followed where you led.”

  “Now, now, no false modesty, Mr. Spock.” The [277] prince wagged a finger at him. “Or I shall write Professor Farsalia to send a field team to study you. You offer some interesting insights into the role of the Outsider, after all.”

  “That I’d like to see,” McCoy declared with wicked glee. “A whole generation of anthropologists studying Spock in his native habitat.”

  “I think Professor Farsalia would agree that Mr. Sulu and I were simply catalysts.” Mr. Spock faced the star map on the wall. “And now if you’ll forgive me, Your Highness. My excursion with you has put me far behind my work schedule.”

  The prince held out his hand to Urmi and helped her to her feet. “Come, my dear. I recognize an imperial dismissal when I hear one.” The two Angirans rose and joined Captain Kirk by the window where he was enjoying the view.

  “I regret that we haven’t the time to show you the delights of our world,” the prince said. “There are more aesthetic and calmer tours than the one I conducted for Sulu and Mr. Spock.”

  “I understand your sense of urgency, but don’t you even have time for a meal aboard the Enterprise?” Kirk turned to Urmi. “Or perhaps Urmi would like a short tour.”

  “I can’t trust this great lout out of my sight.” Urmi hooked her arm affectionately through the prince’s. “I never know when he might get it into his head to fight another duel.”

  “But I gave you my word that I wouldn’t challenge anyone else.” The prince pretended to be offended. “After all, I’m losing my swordmaster here.”

  Sulu could feel his cheeks reddening once again. “I’d [278] really be just so much spare baggage. You need people who can help you set up a modern constitutional monarchy.”

  “They can advise me in the complexities of government, but not in the intricacies of the heart.” The prince reached a hand into the sash-end of his soropa and took out a wheel-lock pistol. “But, at any rate, here is the pistol I used during the battle.” He and Urmi strolled over to Sulu. “Keep this so you can remember how you and it changed the destiny of a world.”

  Sulu took the pistol, letting it rest in his palms like a precious treasure. “I’ll put it in the most prominent place in my collection.”

  Urmi used her free hand to point out the engraving on the pistol that proclaimed it as a gift of friendship from the two Angirans. “Be sure to do more than that. Come back to us soon so you can see the new Angira that’s being born.”

  The prince clapped a hand on Sulu’s shoulder. “The poets and storytellers have already started polishing our story. If you wait too long to return, you won’t be able to recognize yourself.”

  Sulu set the gun down on the table. “Just let me know when they start carving the monuments. I want to be there to pose.”

  “It will be an imperial summons.” The prince’s hand gave Sulu’s shoulder a squeeze and then let go.

  “Don’t forget that you have roots here now,” Urmi reminded him. “If they don’t treat you right on that ship of yours, you come right back here.” Her arm made a snaking motion through the air. “People need home burrows—even if they never use them.”

  The prince wriggled a hand in the air as if parrying [279] cuts and thrusts from invisible swords. “And forgive us if Angira loses some of the flavor of the seventeenth century.”

  “That doesn’t seem so important anymore.” Sulu grinned. “After having nearly been stabbed, drowned and eaten, I don’t think the seventeenth century is all that it’s cracked up to be.”

  Captain Kirk twisted one corner of his mouth as he looked at Sulu. “So you’ll be able to go back to pushing buttons again even if it isn’t quite so dashing?”

  “Captain, the seventeenth century is something better to be imagined than experienced.” And Sulu began to inspect the pistol, delighting in the fine craftsmanship of its wood and metal.

  Afterword

  I would like to take the time here to thank Ruth Kwitko Lym who was kind enough to help with some details. I’d also like to express my gratitude to Elizabeth Lynn who helped me with the swordfight from Sanjuro and to Quinn Yarbro on swordfighting in general. I should add that any mistakes are my own exclusive property.

  About the e-Book

  (OCT, 2003)—Scanned, proofed, and formatted by Bibliophile.

 

 

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