by Greg Cox
The screen went blank as she cut off the transmission at her end.
“Well, that’s that,” Kirk commented. “I hope we don’t regret not evacuating those people. Not to mention Spock and Scotty.”
Concerned over the unrest on Pavak, he already had contacted the weapons-inspections team, both of whom had volunteered to continue their mission on the planet, despite—or even because of—the escalating tensions caused by General Tem’s assassination. Kirk had trusted their judgment and respected it. If anything, destroying those missiles had become more important than ever.
“Spock and Scott are on a secure military base,” Riley noted. “They should be safe from any riots in the streets. Whether they’re safe from the Pavakian military is another question.” He scowled behind his beard. “I’ve been in touch with my contacts at the capital. The Pavakians are, understandably, not happy about what happened to Tem while he was under our protection. This could scuttle not just the peace process, but Pavak’s relations with the Federation for years to come.”
Kirk could believe it. An already challenging situation was going south in a hurry.
“I’ve placed Chekov in charge of collecting evidence,” he said. “The sooner we get to the bottom of this, and find out who is responsible for the attack on Tem, the better.”
“I’m not sure we need to look all that far.” Riley fixed his gaze on Kirk. “Do I need to spell it out for you again?”
Kirk knew what he was getting at. “You think it was Lenore.”
“And you don’t?” Riley did not hold back. “You bring a known murderer aboard the Enterprise and hours later a man is dead. And the killer left behind an overloading energy weapon just like she did all those years ago.” He contemplated the coffee cup resting on the table before him. “I suppose I should keep a close eye on what I drink while she’s aboard.”
Lenore had attempted to kill Riley by slipping a near-lethal dose of tetralubisol, a volatile industrial lubricant, into a glass of milk. The young lieutenant had barely survived the experience.
“I agree it looks bad,” Kirk said. “But there was a reason, however twisted, for why she killed back then. What motive would she have for murdering Tem? As far as we know, they’d never even met before last night.”
Kirk couldn’t recall anything ominous or even unusual about Lenore’s brief encounter with Tem at the reception. A’Barra had been clearly enamored with her, but Tem, as far as Kirk could recall, had been his usual reserved self. He and Lenore had barely exchanged more than a few pleasantries before Kirk and Riley had gone off on their own. Could something have happened between Tem and Lenore in the few minutes that he and Riley had been away? If so, Kirk wasn’t aware of it.
“She’s insane,” Riley said. “Who knows what kind of deranged motive possessed her? Maybe she’d heard too many horror stories from the Oyolu about the Scourge of Azoza? Maybe Tem reminded her of Kodos and it struck a nerve? Maybe she even thought she was doing the right thing, atoning for her past by slaying another infamous mass-murderer? The point is, she’s done this before, as you and I are both aware. For all we know, she staged your ‘accidental’ meeting down on Oyolo just to get to the general. Or maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, a crime of opportunity? Frankly, I don’t care why she might have done it. I just know that she’s our prime suspect.”
“But she was pronounced sane,” Kirk pointed out. “McCoy is trying to obtain her full medical records as we speak, but I’ve already confirmed that responsible authorities judged her no longer a danger to herself or others.”
“Doctors can be wrong,” Riley said. “And what about that overloading pistol? You can’t believe that’s simply a coincidence!”
“I don’t know,” Kirk said. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that the parallel troubled him as well. “But doesn’t that seem almost too pat for you? As though, perhaps, someone was trying to frame her?”
“Like who? As far as we know, nobody in this system aside from you and me and a few veteran members of your crew are familiar with her past. What motive would the Pavakians or Oyolu have to frame her?”
“To cover up their own involvement in the murder,” Kirk suggested. “Certainly there’s no shortage of people who might have wanted General Tem dead, including most of the population of Oyolo.”
“So you’re suggesting that A’Barra or Ifusi was responsible?”
“I’m simply suggesting that we not rush to judgment, regarding Lenore or anyone else.”
The intercom on the desk chimed, interrupting the discussion. Kirk leaned over to answer the prompt. “Kirk here.”
“Sorry to disturb you, Captain,” Uhura said. “But our guests are demanding to speak with you and Ambassador Riley.”
“I imagine they are.” Kirk figured they couldn’t put off meeting with the delegates any longer. “Have Security escort the Oyolu to the briefing room, and please inform Colonel Gast that we will meet with her shortly.”
“Aye, Captain. I’ll see to that at once. Uhura out.”
Riley peered at Kirk from across the table. “Why the Oyolu first?”
“We already know that Gast is going to accuse the Oyolu of complicity in the murder. I want to hear their story, get their account of last night’s events, before we talk to her.”
Riley nodded. “That makes sense. We might as well be prepared for the inevitable.” He signed wearily. “From what I gather, the majority of Pavakians are convinced that A’Barra is behind the assassination.”
Just like you’re convinced Lenore is responsible, Kirk thought. He braced himself for the tense confrontations ahead. “You ready for this?”
“I have to be,” Riley said. “The whole peace process could depend on it.”
Don’t remind me, Kirk thought.
Security made good time escorting the Oyolu delegates to the briefing room. Within minutes, the door slid open to admit A’Barra and Ifusi, both of whom looked somewhat less disheveled, if no less worried, than they had the night before.
“Thank you for seeing us, Captain, Ambassador,” A’Barra said. “I am eager to get this distressing matter cleared up as swiftly as possible, as you must surely understand.”
“Absolutely,” Riley replied. “We appreciate your patience.” He gestured at the remaining seats around the table. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
A’Barra took a place at the far end of the table and Ifusi sat down beside him. The younger Oyolu had yet to utter a word, but he already looked as though he was spoiling for a fight. His beefy arms were crossed atop his chest and he glowered at Kirk and the others. No doubt he expected to be accused of the murder at any moment.
And not without reason, Kirk thought. Ifusi made a decent suspect as well. He made no secret of his hostility toward Tem last evening.
Kirk got right to the point. “You’re aware of course that many Pavakians are already blaming you for General Tem’s murder.”
“As was to be expected,” A’Barra said gravely. “And I won’t deny that I have more than my fair share of Pavakian blood on my hands, but I assure you, gentlemen, that I played no part in this particular killing. And I’m confident that my aide is innocent as well.”
“Not that I’m sorry the Scourge is dead,” Ifusi growled. “If it was up to me, his assassin would be awarded a medal.”
“Yes,” Kirk said. “You made that quite clear last night. Can I ask you what you did and where you went after the reception?”
“Are you questioning my word?” He rose angrily to his feet. “I knew you would attempt to implicate me! But do not think that I will be made to pay for another’s deed!”
“Sit down, Ifusi,” A’Barra said sternly, “and calm yourself. The captain is merely doing his duty.”
“That’s quite right,” Kirk said. “We’re questioning everyone about the events of last night, and we’re not accusing anyone
just yet.”
He had already decided to take the lead when it came to interrogating the suspects. The peace talks were one thing, but in this case it was probably better that Riley not be placed in such an adversarial posture regarding the various delegates. Kirk was perfectly happy to play “bad cop” if it meant not souring Riley’s diplomatic relations with both delegations.
And the murder took place on my ship, Kirk thought, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit back and let someone else ask the tough questions.
Ifusi sat back down at the table. He glared sullenly at Kirk. “What do you want to know?”
“What you did last night after the reception,” Kirk asked again.
“I spoke briefly with Minister A’Barra in his stateroom before retiring to my own quarters.”
“I can confirm this,” A’Barra said, “at least in part. Ifusi and I had a discussion about his behavior at the reception, after which I dismissed him and told him to get a good night’s sleep.”
“And this would have been . . . ?” Kirk asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ifusi said. “Approximately twenty-three thirty by your clock. But I did as my leader suggested and went straight to bed.” A bellicose stare dared Kirk to dispute him. “You must take my word for this.”
It wasn’t much of an alibi, Kirk noted. The delegates were hardly under lock and key, let alone twenty-four-hour observation. The time of death was presumably when the weapons alarm went off, at exactly five minutes after zero hour, but it would have been easy enough for Ifusi—or A’Barra for that matter—to return to his quarters on the same deck before Kirk or the security team arrived on the scene.
And the same applied to Lenore.
“What about you, Minister?” Kirk asked.
A’Barra answered without hesitation. “After bidding Ifusi good night, I sat up reading for a time, the better to digest the many gustatory delights I consumed at the reception. I had just gone to bed—alone, sadly—when that ear-piercing siren went off and the quiet of the night gave way to the turmoil that followed.” He sighed. “I wish I could provide you with a better alibi, Captain Kirk, but you have to believe that I would never endanger the peace talks in this manner, not even to avenge the restless dead of Azoza. My people have endured enough conflict and sorrow. Oyolo deserves a chance to rebuild.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Riley said. “Which is why it is vital that we not let this shocking crime, no matter how appalling, derail the peace process. And, forgive me, Minister, the celebrations on Oyolo are not helping matters. The Pavakians are upset enough about General Tem’s death without seeing broadcast images of your people rejoicing over the assassination.”
Kirk had seen some of the same broadcasts. Tem’s death had been greeted by fireworks, jubilant crowds, patriotic anthems, and dancing in the streets, particularly in the hard-hit regions around Azoza. He could only imagine how such images were playing with Colonel Gast and her fellow Pavakians. It would be like watching the Klingons celebrating the destruction of the Enterprise.
“I have already issued a statement unequivocally condemning the attack on General Tem,” A’Barra said, “and affirming Oyolo’s commitment to peace. But there is only so much I can do to control the reaction in the streets and, truthfully, I cannot entirely fault my people for taking some satisfaction in the demise of an individual who brought so much pain and grief to so many.” His hand went again to his damaged right horn. “Look to your own history, Ambassador. Was not the passing of, say, Osama bin Laden or Colonel Green greeted with equal parts relief and celebration? The heart craves justice as well as peace. And not always in equal amounts.”
Kirk thought of Kodos, whom A’Barra could have just as easily cited. “Justice . . . or revenge?”
“Who is to say where the difference lies,” A’Barra said, “or if such a difference truly exists? Greater minds than ours have grappled with that perennial dilemma and come no closer to a solution.” He let go of his broken horn. “In any event, you can rely on my full cooperation regarding your investigation. I am willing to submit to whatever test or examination might dispel any doubt of my innocence. And I speak for Ifusi as well.” He gave his protégé a sideways glance. “Is that not so?”
Ifusi scowled. “If you insist, Defender.”
“Thank you, Minister,” Kirk said. “I may be taking you up on that offer. I appreciate your willingness to assist in our investigation.”
“It is not a choice. It is a necessity.” He leaned forward for emphasis. “You must identify the true killer, Kirk, or any hope of a lasting peace will die with General Tem. There is no other way.”
Kirk nodded. “I understand.”
Not for the first time, he wished that Spock was here to lend his prodigious intellect to the task. He had seriously considered recalling Spock from his vital mission on Pavak to take over the investigation, but dismantling Pavak’s stockpile of protomatter missiles was arguably just as crucial to preserving the peace. Chekov, in his role as security chief, would just have to pick up the slack.
Don’t let me down, Pavel. A lot is riding on this.
Namely, peace between two worlds.
Ten
Kirk waited until the Oyolu had been safely escorted back to their quarters before meeting with Colonel Gast. The last thing anyone needed was an angry confrontation in the corridors. Matters were explosive enough already.
“Thank you for your patience,” Riley said as she joined them in the briefing room. “Once again, my sincere condolences on your loss.”
“I would prefer justice to platitudes,” she said sharply. “And action to equivocation.”
Kirk noted that she was showing signs of strain. Her chestnut eyes were bloodshot and she dropped into her seat rather heavily, without quite as much of the crisp military bearing he associated with her. He guessed that she had not slept much since the assassination, if at all. Doctor McCoy would probably prescribe a sedative, but Kirk suspected that Gast would refuse any such treatment. She had other things on her mind beyond taking care of herself.
Her superior officer was murdered only hours ago, Kirk thought. She’s entitled to be a little overwrought.
“General Tem’s death was a great shock to us all,” Kirk stated. “Those responsible will be found and held accountable.”
“I doubt you need look much further than the Oyolu,” she said. “The only question is whether one or both of them were involved and how many others might have helped plot this craven act.” She sniffed disparagingly. “I would not be surprised if the general’s assassination was conducted with the full knowledge and complicity of the entire Oyolu upper ministry.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Riley cautioned her. “I assure you that we are pursuing every possible line of investigation . . . and the true identity of the assassin remains to be discovered.”
It occurred to Kirk that Riley would doubtless prefer the killer to be Lenore, and not simply because of any personal vendetta. Pinning the assassination on a lone outsider like Lenore would simplify matters considerably and possibly allow the peace process to move forward. For better or for worse, Lenore made a highly convenient scapegoat.
“And who else could be responsible?” Gast asked. “Surely you don’t intend to cast suspicion on the crew of the Enterprise?”
“Of course not,” Kirk said, feeling obliged to defend his people. “I have the utmost faith in the honor and integrity of this crew, some of whom have served with me for decades. The very idea that one of my people could have committed this crime is inconceivable.”
He spoke with conviction. He hoped he never lived to see the day that a Starfleet officer under his command would take part in anything so nefarious.
“Your loyalty to your crew does you credit, Captain, and I am inclined to take you at your word where your people are concerned. Starfleet has an impeccable record aft
er all.” She placed her palms down on the table. “But that brings us back to the Oyolu, does it not? Who else could possibly be to blame?”
Kirk glanced at Riley, worried that he might be tempted to throw Lenore under the shuttle for the sake of the peace talks, but, to Kirk’s relief, the ambassador was more careful than that.
“Our investigation is still in its preliminary stages,” he stated. “We will naturally keep you fully apprised on any significant developments.”
“I expect no less,” she said. “Indeed, given that a Pavakian citizen has been murdered, I would prefer that we take charge of the investigation. Give the word and I can have an entire forensic team from our top criminal justice agency en route to the Enterprise before the hour is out.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” Kirk said. “The Enterprise is neutral territory, beyond your jurisdiction, and bringing more Pavakian authorities aboard would violate the terms of the peace talks. Moreover, the Oyolu would surely insist on dispatching their own investigators . . . and would probably reject any findings from your detectives, especially if they implicated the Oyolu delegation.” Kirk had already thought about this; the prospect of rival law-enforcement agencies fighting a turf war aboard the Enterprise was something to be avoided at all costs. “An independent investigation, conducted by my people, is in everyone’s best interests, if we want both sides to accept the results.”
“I feared that would be your attitude,” Gast said. “Rest assured that we will revisit this issue if and when the precise identity of the perpetrator becomes obvious to all but the most willfully blind. The Pavakian people will accept nothing less than the immediate extradition of all those responsible for the general’s death. Justice demands it.”
There’s that word again, Kirk thought. I’m starting to dislike it.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” Riley suggested. “In the meantime, can I ask what your government’s position is regarding the peace talks, in light of recent events?”
“My superiors are obviously reluctant to dispatch another emissary to the Enterprise since it is clear you cannot guarantee their safety. However,” she said sourly, as though the words tasted bad in her mouth, “I have been instructed to proceed with the negotiations until such time as the identity of the assassin is determined conclusively, at which point justice for General Tem will become paramount. Furthermore, we insist that the Oyolu delegates not be allowed to return to their planet . . . or be granted sanctuary aboard the Enterprise.”