Pawns and Symbols

by Majliss Larson

  Jean stopped precipitously and stared at Aernath in dismay. "And we'll be caught right in the middle of it! We could get stuck here—held hostage in return."

  He eyed her curiously. "You would be stuck here. Kang's offer does not include me. For some reason, I am to remain on board the ship."

  In that instant Jean recalled her confession to Kang and saw the trap he had set for her with that knowledge. She groaned. "As a hostage—to ensure my loyalty and cooperation." Then she added with bitter irony, "But of course, he couldn't do it the other way around."

  Aernath glanced at her, askance. "Jean, now that we're here, there's something else." He made as if to move on but Jean caught his arm and pulled his cloak back. She looked at the sword and then at his face.

  "Wait, if that's all true … who called us down here now and why? Exactly where are we going, Aernath?" As she spoke, a figure rounded the nearby corner and abruptly confronted them.

  "You! What are you doing here? Both of you are supposed to be restricted to ship." It was Tirax.

  Then both Aernath and Tirax moved with blurring speed. Tirax went for his phaser and Aernath aimed a well-placed kick that sent it flying into the nearby bushes. Both men drew their swords. Jean shrank back against a low stone drywall at the edge of the walk. It was quite dark now and the street globes had come on casting an eerie sodiumorange glow over the scene.

  Aetnath stood facing Tirax in an en garde position. Tirax lunged, his point aimed just below the rib cage. Aernath drifted ever so slightly to his left and caught Tirax's shoulder with the tip before the startled Klingon parried it. Wary now, Tirax pulled back and assessed his opponent. Obviously, he, too, had never seen Aernath fight before. Settling into a more formal stance, Tirax suddenly launched a series of rapid thrusts, parries, and ripostes. His superior height and weight forced Aernath back and carried them past Jean.

  She saw that Aernath had been hit above the right knee. The two men circled carefully, each seeking an opening. Aernath compensated for Tirax's height and weight by greater agility and speed. She would never have guessed he possessed this skill. Again he shifted lightly, avoiding a thrust from Tirax, and this time inflicted a large gash on the larger Klingon's upper arm. But Tirax recovered and slipped past Aernath's next parry with a riposte that reached his ribs. Aernath stumbled but managed to block the next downstroke aimed at him. Then he regained his footing. Alarmed now, Jean looked about for some weapon of her own. She dug her fingers into the dirt behind the drywall and pried free one of the top stones of the wall. She hugged it to her chest and waited for a suitable opening. Tirax connected again, a glancing slice along Aernath's forearm. Aernath countered with a slash that drew blood along Tirax's neck. Both men circled again, more slowly now, their breathing labored. Then Tirax struck Aernath's leg once more. Aernath fell back a couple of paces drawing Tirax abreast of Jean. As he moved for a counter riposte, his leg gave way and he fell. As Tirax plunged forward and down, Jean hurled the rock straight at his sword arm. Aernath rolled but the sword caught him in the side nonetheless. He rose to one knee, then faltered. However, Tirax no longer held his sword. His right arm dangled useless by his side. With a roar of pain and rage, Tirax turned and charged Jean.

  She dropped into a crouch and met the Klingon's out-thrust arm with a grasp, pirot, and throw that carried him up and over her. As he sailed over she felt a snap and knew in some recess of her mind that his left arm was now broken. Where in space had she learned that? Now, dagger in hand, she waited. The Klingon did not rise. She approached him warily.

  Even through the pain the hate was still there, but also the grudging respect. "So, human, in the end you win after all." He spoke with some difficulty. "Very well, finish it. Strike cleanly and I'll salute Durgath in your name when I stand before him." Then there was neither hate nor fear—just a clear gaze meeting hers—waiting.

  Jean knelt beside him and shook her head. "Not by my hand, Tirax. I may die regretting this but you'll live to greet Durgath another day." Her hand moved in a flashing blow to his neck. He lost consciousness promptly. And where in space did I learn that? Jean wondered as she replaced her dagger. She had never studied any of the so-called arts of self-defense … had she? … something wrong here … She shook her head dazedly. If she could just remember … But there was a more immediate problem: Aernath. She stood up and turned to where he had been.

  He was gone. Tirax's sword lay on the ground by a small pool of inky wetness. A faint trail of spots, black in the glare of the street globes, led away from the spot into an unlighted passageway between two buildings. She followed them. "Aernath?" she called with soft urgency. "Aernath, where are you?" She was answered only by a soft rustle of movement in the shadow. As she moved toward it she caught a dim glimpse of him leaning against the wall. Simultaneously, she saw emerging from the grayness several other figures who moved purposefully toward her. With the same maneuver that had grounded Tirax, she managed to send one flying before she was overpowered by the weight of numbers. For a brief interval she was reduced to kicking, biting, and scratching. Then a cloth was stuffed in her mouth and some type of hood fastened over her head. She could breathe and hear—nothing else. As her hands were roughly pulled behind her and tied, she heard something that filled her with consternation and despair.

  Aernath's voice was faint but clear. "Handle her carefully, Kinsmen. That human is extremely valuable to us right now."

  This was followed by urgent mutterings, smothered oaths, and frenetic movement around her. She was hoisted unceremoniously over someone's shoulder, carried a short distance and dumped onto a cold hard surface. She heard a door close. Silence gave way to abrupt movement; she was being taken somewhere in some kind of a vehicle. What in the name of the nine rings of hell was going on here? Who were these Klingons? What was Aernath's connection with them? Obviously he knew them. And Aernath himself—clearly he was more than a simple botanist. Tonight had proved that. How little she knew him. The one certainty she thought she had in this situation suddenly became a chilling unknown. Anger fought panic to a standstill leaving Jean the limp battlefield.

  The ride ended and she was extracted to be hauled rudely up steps and along corridors. She was tied in a chair, then footsteps receded and a door closed. In the stillness, she wiggled her hands and feet experimentally. The bonds were tight with no give. She was immobilized. How long she sat like that she had no way of knowing, but it seemed like hours. Finally the door opened and someone approached her. She felt fingers loosen the fastenings at the back of her head. The hood was pulled away and the gag removed. The room was brightly lit. Jean looked down at the floor blinking and squinting as her eyes tried to adjust from the prolonged darkness.

  She focused on the boots first: a fine deep blue leather, good workmanship, finely tooled; shapely blue-clad legs, a brief dress—blue with silver accents. A graceful V-neck with pointed collar framed a regal face. The woman regarded her silently with fathomless black eyes. Her appraisal was interrupted by another arrival.

  Aernath stood in the doorway, shirtless, with his right arm in a sling and a plastiderm dressing swathing his right rib cage. His face was pale and he favored his right leg as he walked. His eyes met Jean's as he came into the room.

  "Jean!" A flush darkened his face as he made his way angrily to her chair. "Blast it, Mara! Why did you let them do this?" He tugged angrily at her bonds with his left hand. "I told you, she has enough trouble trusting us as it is without this. And it wasn't necessary."

  The woman watched cooly, making no move to help or hinder his efforts. "She'll have to trust us. She has no choice."

  "Well, dammit, you didn't have to make it so difficult for her!" With his dagger he severed the thongs that held her hands and set to work on her feet. This was interrupted as a third person burst into the room, a lithe black-haired girl in a formfitting blue uniform.

  "Aernath!" She rushed to embrace him.

  "Aeliki!" He rose and hugged her warmly with his left arm.
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br />   "I just found out you were here. Thank Cymele you're safe!" She stepped back a pace and surveyed him anxiously. "Are you sure you should be up? They said you were brought in unconscious. What happened?"

  "I'll be fine. We ran into a little opposition on the way but …" he gestured to Jean with the dagger, "there she is. I got her here."

  Aeliki now turned her attention to Jean for the first time. "The human!" She looked at her curiously.

  "Yes, the human. Aernath has been chiding me for mistreating her," Mara said drily.

  Aernath knelt again to the task of freeing Jean. "Cymele's Cloak, Mara, you can't treat her like this and—" he expostulated.

  Mara interrupted, "This is the woman Kang would have used against us, and you admitted yourself you couldn't be sure she would come voluntarily." She turned to Jean. "Stand up." Jean did so returning the woman's gaze as Mara walked around the chair surveying her deliberately. "So. Kang's new consort. He has made you a member of his Theld. Would you have come voluntarily?"

  Jean rubbed her wrists. "Probably. It would depend on the situation. I don't really understand the terms of my presence here."

  "What were Kang's terms? What induced you to cooperate with him?" Mara's voice was sharp but not to the point of hostility.

  Jean glanced at Aernath wondering how much and what he had told Mara. She chose her words carefully. "Kang's terms? My freedom if I cooperated and he succeeded. Death by his own hand at the first sign of treachery. But I consented voluntarily to work against the famine when I discovered the true situation. I'm still willing to do that but preferably not at the expense of a pro-Federation cause or you personally, Mara."

  "But if I stood in the way of your success, if it were a choice between your freedom and mine, then what, Miss Czerny?"

  Jean was spared the necessity of an answer by the interruption of a blue-uniformed man. "Dematrix, you're needed in Operations."

  Mara nodded. "Aernath, wait here, I'll be back soon. Follow me, Aeliki." She strode briskly from the room. Aeliki gave Aernath a quick hug and followed her. Aernath watched them go for a long moment before he turned back to Jean.

  She looked at him uncertainly. "It would appear that I am in no position to demand anything, but I think you owe me some explanations."

  "Jean, I'm sorry. Believe me, I didn't intend … Are you hurt in any way?" At the shake of her head, he continued. "None of this would have happened if we hadn't met Tirax. I was sure that once I got you off the ship to a place where I could safely explain everything you'd come freely. But by the time I got into that alley …" He raised his hand to brush back the hair from his forehead. It was shaking badly.

  She moved to him quickly. "Aernath! You shouldn't even be on your feet. Here, lie down." She guided him to a couch at the side of the room. He sank down wearily but insisted on sitting. She poured a glass of water from the carafe on the table beside the couch and watched anxiously as he drank.

  "Thanks, Jean. I'll be all right." Nonetheless, he leaned back and closed his eyes. His face was still very pale. After some moments he opened his eyes again. "Now, where were we?"

  She touched the bandage on his side. "How badly did he hit you?"

  "Nothing vital. They patched me up pretty thoroughly. I'll be fine in a few days."

  "You really astonished me, you know. You never gave any indication you could fight like that," she said with unaccustomed diffidence.

  He shrugged his left shoulder. "Just because I choose not to fight doesn't mean I can't if I have to. It's just that usually it's an inefficient way to try to solve the problem." He gave her an appraising look. "You were rather surprising yourself. Did you kill him?"

  "Tirax? No." She looked down at her hands. "When it came right down to it, I couldn't. Someday I'll probably regret it."

  "Let's hope not."

  "Aernath, what's going on? Who … or what … are you anyway?"

  He grinned boyishly "It should be obvious by now. I am … or was … Mara's undercover agent to keep an eye on Kang."

  A throaty chuckle from the doorway drew their attention. Mara had returned. "And you couldn't ask for a more perfect spy. His loyalty to Kang stands second only to his loyalty to me. He'd pass almost any screening check Kang could put him through."

  "True," Aernath protested mildly, "but the same could be said of you, too."

  "You and I know that but it wouldn't even occur to him to run the check," Mara sighed. "I'm afraid that even if we succeed it's likely to be a long time before he's convinced."

  "Speaking of that, how are things going?"

  "With the accelerated timetable it will be tight but I think we have a better than even chance." She turned to Jean. "Well, are you ready to answer my question? If I told you that you could walk through that door free what would you choose to do?"

  "I would sit right here until I had a clearer idea of your position. I only know what Aernath has told me, which is vague generalities. If you do favor negotiation with the Federation, then I would like to help you in whatever way I can."

  "And what of Kang?"

  "I … bear him no enmity, but I wouldn't pass a loyalty check."

  "And if you fell back into his hands again? Do you fear that?" Mara watched her intently.

  "It's you he wants. I'm merely a pawn in that game. How would you feel if he got you?"

  Mara gestured impatiently. "That's my problem. Answer the question."

  Jean grimaced. "If you can convince me it's worth it, I guess I'd take that chance. Under the circumstances, I could quite legitimately say I was kidnapped against my will."

  Mara looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment, then nodded abruptly as if she had made a decision. "Very well. We will discuss this further tomorrow. Aernath, do what you like with her so long as you don't breach security. Can you see to the arrangements or shall I call someone?"

  "I think I can manage. Where am I assigned?"

  "Next to Aeliki, of course. I assumed you'd prefer that."

  Aernath smiled. "Thanks. If there's room, I'll put her in with Aeliki then."

  "Fine." She gestured toward the door. "Kyrnon can direct you. Get a good night's rest. You both look like you could use it." She picked up the device that had been removed from Jean's head and handed it to Aernath. "At the moment, for her sake as well as ours, the less she knows the better. Good night." She left the room.

  Jean backed away from Aernath. "You're not going to put that thing on me again!" she declared belligerently.

  He gestured wryly at his bandaged arm. "No, I can't. But I am going to ask you to put it on. Mara's right—what you don't know you can't tell." He held it out to her. "Please. It won't be for long."

  Jean took it reluctantly and slipped it on, fighting the urge to retch at the memory of the gag. Aernath took her hand and led her forward. Someone met them outside the door, and Jean felt her other arm grasped firmly but gently. After many twists and turns she came to a stop. "All right. We're here. You can take it off," Aernath said as the other man left.

  Gratefully, Jean slipped out of it and looked about. It was a small cubicle just large enough to contain two narrow beds, a desk, and a chair. The door on her right was obviously a closet and the one on her left opened into a small bathroom. Aernath gestured at the bath. "My room's through there. If you need anything come and ask. This room door is unlocked and there is no guard. I want you to feel you are among friends. But for your own sake, don't leave the room unless Aeliki or I come for you. Do you have any questions?"

  There were numerous questions but none she was prepared tO ask him at the moment. "No, I guess not." She looked at his face. It was drawn and pinched. "Just one thing—you ought to be in bed. Can I … do you need any help?"

  He flushed slightly. "No. Aeliki will be along shortly. If I need anything I'll ask her. Good night."

  "Good night." She watched him go through the bathroom to his quarters with a twinge of jealousy. Who or what was Aeliki to him? He had never mentioned her but then
he had never talked much of his personal life. There had always been a reticence there, quite understandable now in light of his espionage role. She had always respected this reserve, having felt that to probe would have been seen as one more humiliating demand on his bond-status even if it wasn't meant that way. Now she wished she knew a great deal more about this enigmatic Klingon: most particularly what his feelings were toward her. Questions. But questions that would have to wait.

  Resolutely she straightened her shoulders and turned her attention back to the room. Which bed was Aeliki's? The two neat berths gave no clues. The desk was bare except for a reading light in the center and a small opaque cube on the left. Jean picked it up and turned it over idly. It began to glow and clear. One side displayed markings which changed as she watched. Through the other sides she saw a hologram forming. It was a picture of a boy and a girl. With a jolt she realized it was Aernath and Aeliki apparently taken some years earlier. She put it down and it grew opalescent again. She sat down on the right hand bed and pulled off her boots. A murmur of voices came to her from Aernath's room. It must be Aeliki. She stifled an impulse to listen at the door and lay down instead.

  After a few moments, Aeliki came in quiet and hesitant. She seemed startled when Jean sat up promptly. "Oh, you're still awake. Aernath said you might be …" She seemed at a loss as to how to proceed.

  "Is this your bed Jean inquired.

  "No, I sleep in this one." She indicated the one on the left. "Do hu… I mean, is that comfortable for you?"

  Jean smiled faintly at the other woman's discomfiture. "Klingons seem to prefer a firmer sleeping surface than humans but I am accustomed to it now. Tell me, does it bother you to have a human in your room?"

  Aeliki blushed. "I don't mean to be rude, but I've never met one before. Aernath said just to treat you naturally—that if we want to establish relations with humans, we just have to learn to get along. But it's still strange and scary, isn't it?"