Star Trek: The Original Series - 160 - Foul Deeds Will Rise

by Greg Cox

  Of course, he thought as a likely candidate came to mind. If nothing else, it was as good a place as any to look for her.

  Leaving Riley and the others to entertain their distinguished guests, Kirk walked briskly to the nearest turbolift and stepped inside. The doors whooshed shut behind him.

  “P Deck,” he instructed the lift. “Express.”

  A quick ride brought him to a lonely corridor in the ship’s secondary hull, several decks below the saucer section where the reception was being held. The corridor’s lighting had been dimmed to simulate nighttime conditions; such measures were known to help the crew maintain their natural circadian rhythms. Striding down the hallway, Kirk had to decide whether to turn left or right at the first juncture. Choosing right at random, he made his way to the starboard observation gallery overlooking the shuttlecraft landing bay one deck below. As he entered the gallery, he saw at once that he had come to the right place.

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  Lenore turned away from the panoramic ports permitting an impressive view of the spacious bay. She did not seem surprised that he had found her.

  “Call me sentimental,” she said. “This is one of the few places on the Enterprise about which I have largely pleasant memories.”

  She didn’t need to explain why. Back on the original Enterprise, they had shared some romantic moments in the observation deck overlooking the shuttlebay. Granted, those moments had not been entirely free of darker agendas. In retrospect, she had already been plotting his death and he had been using her, at least in part, to find out the truth about her reclusive father, but even so, there had been some genuine passion in their embrace, or so he liked to think.

  “I remember it well,” he said.

  “I’m glad. One wouldn’t want to be forgotten, no matter what happened later.”

  “That was never a possibility.” He approached her slowly. As in the upper-row seats at the amphitheater before, they had the gallery to themselves, while the roomy landing bay below was relatively quiet as well. Copernicus sat on the floor of the bay, waiting for its next run back to Oyolo. Its sister, Galileo, remained on Pavak with Spock and Scotty. He hoped they were having a less intense time of it.

  “I’m not entirely sure I believe that,” she replied, “but my ego isn’t going to argue the point.”

  He turned his back on the observation window, leaning against it as he stood beside her. The lights from the shuttlebay cast shadows across the floor of the dimly lit gallery.

  “You left the reception rather quickly. Minister A’Barra was disappointed.”

  She sighed ruefully, hugging herself.

  “This was a mistake. There are too many memories here. Too many people who remember what I did. Who I used to be.”

  “Like Riley?”

  She nodded. “The look on his face when he saw me . . .” She shuddered at the memory. “He was making an effort to hide it, but I could see it in his eyes. The hatred, the disgust. He’s neither forgotten nor forgiven, that much was clear.”

  Kirk wished he could tell her otherwise, but there had been enough lies between them.

  “I should have reminded you he’d be here, but I assumed you knew. Or perhaps I was simply reluctant to mention it for fear you wouldn’t come.”

  “I think I had heard that an Ambassador Riley was representing the Federation in the peace talks, but I never made the connection until tonight.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Young Lieutenant Riley a Starfleet ambassador . . . who would have thought it?”

  “Look at the bright side,” Kirk said. “At least you got to see for yourself that Riley’s had a long and accomplished life despite—”

  He paused, unsure how to tactfully finish the sentence.

  “Despite me poisoning him.” She gazed up at the ceiling, as though peering up through the decks to the reception where Riley was. “Small wonder he wasn’t exactly pleased to see me.”

  That’s putting it mildly, Kirk thought. “He’ll get over it. Trust me, he’s got a lot bigger and more pressing matters on his mind these days.”

  “Yes, of course, the peace talks. I can see where that might almost trump running into the woman who nearly killed you.” She glanced at the exit. “Do you need to get back to the reception?”

  “Eventually, I suppose, but there’s no hurry. I trust Riley and my senior officers to keep a lid on things until I return. Besides, I’m the one who invited you, so that makes you my personal responsibility.”

  “Oh, really? Are you afraid I’ll be up to no good if you don’t keep an eye on me?”

  Kirk congratulated himself for making the right call and not sending Security after her. “That’s not what I meant. I simply meant that you’re my guest and, as your host, it’s my obligation to make sure you’re at ease.”

  She chuckled bitterly. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been truly at ease, at least not since I found out who my father really was, and certainly not since I came to grips with what I did to seven innocent people.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She turned to look at him more closely, her hazel eyes scrutinizing his features.

  “Why do you care? Should I be wary of ulterior motives?”

  “Not this time, no.”

  Her suspicions pricked his conscience, which, to be honest, was not entirely clean where she was concerned. Lenore had been only nineteen years old when they’d first met at that cocktail party, and, yes, he had deliberately romanced her as a means of finding out more about her father, whom he had come to suspect was Kodos. Even though she had ultimately proved to have an even more sinister objective than his own, it was still not one of his finer moments. He had let his desire for justice—or maybe just revenge—drive him to emotionally manipulate a young woman.

  “So why?” she asked again.

  “Let’s just say,” he said honestly, “that I’m not particularly proud of what transpired between us, back then, and the way I failed to follow up later on. Maybe it’s too little too late, but I really would like to know how you’re faring these days.”

  She contemplated him curiously. Her eyes scanned his face.

  “You’re different than before. Not quite the brash young Caesar I remember. Time has made you more reflective, I think, and do I detect a touch of melancholy?”

  Her assessment cut rather too close to the bone for comfort.

  “Well, I like to think that I’m not King Lear,” Kirk quipped before getting more serious again. “But, yes, I probably have more regrets than I did before.”

  She nodded.

  “I heard about your ship . . . and your son. My condolences.”

  Kirk was not surprised that she knew about David’s death. The Genesis affair, and its tumultuous aftermath, had sparked a major diplomatic incident that had attracted significant media attention throughout the quadrant. And his subsequent trial for stealing the Enterprise had been big news as well.

  “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “What about you? Do you have any children?”

  He had not had a chance to research her recent history in any detail. He had only been able to confirm that she had in fact been released from a Federation mental institution on Gilead III nearly five years ago. What she had been doing with her freedom ever since was still a question mark.

  “Heaven forbid,” she scoffed. “Being heir to Kodos the Executioner is not a burden I would wish on anyone. Better that my notorious bloodline ends with me.”

  Kirk observed the shadows spread across the floor before them. It wasn’t as visible, but he felt as though the shadow of Kodos was still hanging over them even after all these years. No doubt Riley would agree.

  “You can’t blame yourself for what your father did,” he said, repeating the argument he had used on Riley less than half an hour ago. “You weren’t born until after he faked his d
eath on Tarsus Four and reinvented himself as Karidian. You had nothing to do with the massacres.”

  “But I am my father’s daughter.” She held up her hand to the light. “ ‘Here’s the smell of blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.’ ”

  Spoken like an actress, he thought. “But Lady Macbeth lost her sanity. You seem to have regained yours.”

  “ ‘Seem’?”

  “Bad choice of words,” Kirk said. “Personally, I like to think that our past mistakes do not define us, even if we do carry them with us as we go.” He had debated the topic with Spock’s renegade brother not so long ago. “Our pasts, our regrets, are forever part of who we are, but they don’t determine our futures. We can still chart our own destinies. You’re living proof of that.”

  She gazed at him, listening intently. “Do you truly believe that?”

  “Spock likes to say that there are always possibilities,” Kirk said with a smile. “Who am I to disagree?”

  “And is that why you invited me aboard?” she asked. “To prove to yourself that the past is not always prologue?”

  He recognized the timely allusion to The Tempest. “To some degree, maybe, or perhaps I simply thought that you and I deserved a chance to make amends for how we hurt each other before. No grand abstract principle to prove, just two people with some unfinished business between them.”

  “I see,” she said coyly. “And precisely what sort of business are we talking about here?”

  Kirk could see where his remark was open to interpretation. He gazed upon the beautiful and enigmatic woman beside him, who was just as striking now as she had been the last time they found themselves alone above a shuttlebay. He smiled wistfully. The brash young captain she remembered would have probably swept her into his arms by now, rushing in where angels feared to tread, and certainly he still felt a spark between them, despite everything, and yet . . . there were enough painful memories—and bodies—between them to make him think twice about rekindling old flames. He’d broken enough hearts in his time and vice versa. He was in no hurry to repeat past mistakes.

  “Just a heart-to-heart talk,” he clarified, “to give us both a little closure, as you said.”

  “Probably just as well,” she agreed, sounding both relieved and disappointed, “and more, honestly, than I ever hoped for.” She placed her hand over his. “For what it’s worth, this means a lot to me, Jim, knowing that you’ve forgiven me for what went on before, and that you seem to be genuinely rooting for my redemption.”

  “ ‘Seem’?”

  She chuckled. “Bad choice of words. Seriously, I’m truly grateful for you not holding my bloodstained past against me. It’s more than I deserve.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve earned it . . . or at least you’re trying to. And, for my part, I like knowing that you’ve turned your life around and that what happened back then wasn’t the final act.” A horrific image flashed through his brain, of Lenore as he last saw her years ago: crazed and delusional, with wild eyes and hair, sobbing and babbling over the lifeless body of her father. “Tragedies are all very well and good onstage, but I prefer happier endings in real life.”

  “Let us hope I can oblige you,” she said, seeming altogether saner and more collected than that delirious madwoman from decades past. “But it’s getting late and I’ve occupied far too much of your valuable time.” She withdrew her hand and stepped away. “You should get back to your reception. People will talk.”

  “People will always talk,” he said, shrugging. “Scuttlebutt is a universal constant, like gravity.” But she was right that they should probably head back to the lounge. Riley and McCoy were surely wondering what had become of them, if they didn’t think that Lenore had killed him by now. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but this has all been a bit much. Present company excluded, I think I’ve looked yesterday in the face quite enough for one evening. If you don’t mind, I’m inclined to play Cinderella and call it a night.” She smiled wanly. “And I suspect that Ambassador Riley would also prefer that I make myself scarce.”

  “Don’t worry about Riley. He’s too much the diplomat to make a scene.”

  “I’m sure, but I’d rather not force my unwelcome company upon him, especially when, as noted, he has more pressing matters to attend to. I owe him that much at least.”

  “Fair enough,” Kirk said, understanding her reluctance to brave the lion’s den once more. “The Copernicus is scheduled to depart for Oyolo at zero-seven hundred tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ve arranged guest quarters for you on D Deck. It’s not a VIP suite, but I think you’ll be comfortable.”

  “Compared to bunking down in a refugee camp? I’m sure it will be heavenly.” She smiled warmly. “Thank you, Jim. That’s very thoughtful. I confess I won’t mind a real bed for once, instead of a cot or sleeping bag.”

  “Do you need an escort to your room?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m certain I can find my way. This isn’t my first Enterprise, you know.” She gave him a playful shove. “Now go. Before everyone thinks I murdered you.”

  That the same thought had crossed his mind was not something he cared to admit. McCoy was probably sweating bullets, however, if he wasn’t on the verge of sending out a search party.

  “All right then. Perhaps I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.”

  “I’d like that.” She came forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek before retreating a few paces back. “It is good to see you again, Jim. It wasn’t just a ruse . . . before.” A wistful expression glided over her face like a passing breeze. “I wasn’t pretending that night on the observation deck.”

  “Neither was I,” he confessed.

  He exited the gallery before he fell back into old habits. The door swished shut behind him, leaving him alone in the corridor outside. He strode back toward the waiting turbolift, even as, inevitably, a few tantalizing second thoughts dogged his heels. Images of Lenore, past and present, lingered in his mind’s eye.

  Damn. He knew he was doing the right thing, that some old flames were best left unlit, but being older and wiser had its drawbacks sometimes. Speaking of regrets, he thought, I hope I’m not kicking myself somewhere down the road. Lenore had seemed so sincere and approachable tonight, more like the charming young actress he’d met on Planet Q, not the deranged killer she’d turned out to be. Had she truly exorcised the demons that had driven her insane before? To his surprise, he’d found her good company and easy to talk to. At times, it had been almost too easy to forget the trail of corpses she’d left in her wake . . . and Thomas Leighton’s widow sobbing on Kirk’s shoulder after her husband’s body was found. Kirk and Lenore had been taking a romantic stroll in the purple twilight when they came upon the corpse.

  Kirk entered the turbolift. “C Deck. Observation Lounge.”

  There are always possibilities, he thought. The trick is to know which to explore . . . and which to stay clear of.

  Meanwhile, duty called . . . and he had a party to get back to.

  Seven

  The reception concluded without actual bloodshed, which Kirk took as a minor victory. Relations between the Oyolu and Pavakian delegations remained frosty, to put it mildly, but one could hardly expect a few drinks and a sumptuous buffet to overcome years of bitter enmity. Kirk had half-considered breaking out some bootleg Romulan ale, which the Enterprise “may” have happened to have tucked away in the galley, but he realized that this might put Riley in an awkward position, given that he was formally representing the Federation and its policies. It was enough, Kirk decided, that the delegates had a chance to cool down a bit before going back to the bargaining table tomorrow.

  Here’s hoping it helps, he thought.

  Riley kept casting wary glances at the lounge’s entrance, but he relaxed somewha
t as it became evident that Lenore would not be making a return appearance. There was still, however, a certain edge to his voice when he bid good night to Kirk, who took it in stride. This unexpected brush with the past had been hard on Riley, Kirk knew; he resolved to make it up to the younger man at some point.

  I owe him one.

  The buffet had been cleared away and the bar had served its last cocktails. The overhead lights flickered, signaling that the party was over, and the lounge gradually emptied out. As the delegates took their leave, heading back to their respective quarters, McCoy took Kirk aside. He looked as though he had been waiting impatiently to speak his mind.

  “You took your sweet time coming back to the party,” McCoy said. “Where the heck were you?”

  “Just making sure that everything was in order where ‘Lyla’ was concerned.”

  “And?” McCoy pressed.

  “Nothing to go to Red Alert about. We chatted awhile and she eventually decided that it might be wiser if she didn’t return to the reception with me.”

  “Well, I could have told you that, especially with Riley here. What were you thinking, Jim, inviting her aboard the ship like that?”

  About making peace with the past, Kirk thought, and not merely turning my back on it anymore. But he didn’t feel like getting into all that with his friend right now. “What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  McCoy’s attitude shifted from exasperation to empathy as his bedside manner came to the fore. “And was it?” he asked gently.

  “Maybe.” Kirk glanced around to make sure that none of the cleanup crew was listening. They sought out a quiet corner of the lounge and he lowered his voice. “Lenore and I had a long-overdue talk. We said things that probably needed to be said, cleared the air a bit, and I got a better sense of who she is today.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” McCoy nodded at the bar. “I could always liberate a bottle of the good stuff, for medicinal purposes, naturally.”