Kang smiled grimly. "I may be five kinds of fool but I am not an imbecile. Of course not. She couldn't do it."
"You mean you can't believe she could," Jean countered. "Mara is completely loyal to the Empire and to you personally though she knows you don't believe it. She predicted that when I first met her."
"I suppose next you're going to tell me you are loyal to me, too?" he said sarcastically.
"It has never been a secret where my loyalties lay," Jean answered quietly, lifting her hands from his hips. "You knew that from the beginning."
"Yes," he said drily, "that has certainly been clear and unwavering from the outset." Jean was startled to see the old pain mirrored momentarily in his eyes again. "I begin to see," he breathed, "why your captain is so sparing of tactical sacrifices. Is that part of the price he pays to possess what can't be bought? How does he do it? What power does he possess that in a few short hours he can demolish a lifetime of loyalty yet what he engenders cannot be touched?
Jean shook her head. "You miss the point, Kang. And you won't see it until you learn to use the same strength in yourself. It is there, you know."
He shook his head stubbornly. "You sound like Mara." He buried an enmeshing fist in her hair and leaned down over her face. "High stakes, this game of yours, little human. Trust for trust, my death against yours. But there are some fates to which death, no matter how lingeringly bestowed, is preferable, aren't there? Your Captain Kirk has raised the ante: my bondage to yours. Do you then expect greater mercy from me?"
"But you've already admitted Kirk can't give you what you want. He can't possibly win," Jean protested.
"Precisely. Nor can I," Kang returned implacably. "We're matched. Now let's see how your captain plays for your life."
Fourteen
JEAN LEANED BACK in her seat, eyes closed, as the glide-car moved leisurely toward the agriculture station once more. After nearly to weeks the negotiations were drawing to a close. On the surface it had gone extremely well. Only a few minor points remained to be worked out. The measure of Kang's public success could be read in the demeanors of Klen and Klyndur. Their attitudes had changed over the days from suspicion and hostility to a bemused admiration for Kang's achievements and a grudging respect for the tough but flexible approaches of the Federation team, although Ken privately maintained that it had all been gained purely as a result of the five Klingon cruisers Kang had bracketing the planet. By now it was clear to all that the Enterprise was indeed the only Federation ship in the area, though this garnered Kirk a grim accolade from the two lieutenants for his courage.
One of the minor points that had not been settled was the disposition of Jean, Aernath, and his "companion." Kirk had presented the Federation proposal that all three be left on Sherman's planet to head up joint work on the "Czerny strain." Kang had refused to commit himself. Jean wondered if even Mara knew of the depth of his internal struggle and how her fate hung in the balance. However, Kang had reminded Kirk of his promise to permit a visit to Aethelnor and that was the purpose of their trip today.
No negotiations were scheduled. Jean, Kang, and Mara were alone in the car. They moved on past the newer part of the station to an attractive one-story flagstone house that had been part of the original colony settlement. This was the place Kirk had proposed for housing the two Klingon "guests," and he had suggested Kang and Mara hold their visit here.
Federation Security stopped the car some fifty meters from the house. All weapons left behind in the car, the three walked slowly to the house. It had always been one of Jean's favorites and she was glad it had survived the earthquake. The rather extensive garden surrounding it contained numerous imported species. Large Terran bougainvillea flanked the broad stone steps leading up to the main door. The spicy aroma of a nearby Aldebaran lesquit bush brought memories of home.
Kirk had guaranteed that their meeting would be private. No one came to greet them. Kang opened the door and they went in to a cool, dim, empty room. Aernath appeared through an open doorway from an adjacent room and approached them with a subdued salute. "Commander."
"By Kahless! You dare to salute me after what you have done? You traitorous, lying scum!" Kang's voice shook with fury.
Aernath paused in mid-stride, then stood his ground resolutely. "Commander, I am not disloyal. I do not now and never have worked for anything but your survival and success."
"Liar!" Kang moved toward him, fist clenched. "You have defiled your honor as a Klingon warrior, desecrated your vow!
Jean stepped between them. "Stop it!" she said fiercely. "Stop it!" She gestured at Mara. "The three of us share equal responsibility for what was done. If you choose to spare us then don't take it out on him. It's unworthy of you. Now shake hands—or whatever it is Klingons do—and let what is past be past!" Kang brushed her aside angrily, his glare still fixed on Aernath.
A hostile silence took over the room. Aernath made the first move. "I swear by Durgath and by His Throne which shall be yours: I have not defiled my vow." Then slowly, deliberately, he knelt before Kang in the classic Klingon posture of submission: knees wide apart, hands on heels, head bowed.
Jean waited in agony for Kang's response. By this gesture Aernath had literally offered Kang permission to kill him if he so chose. A single swift blow and Aernath would lie writhing helpless at Kang's feet to be dispatched at his leisure. The cool dimness of the room seemed to deepen to match the cold brooding anger on Kang's face. Seconds ticked by Kang looked at Aernath, then at Mara and finally at Jean. Then his right boot moved, slowly, to the outside of Aernath's right knee.
"It is true that your actions have brought me here, but it is also true we have met with some success in this endeavor." The admission came grudgingly. "I accept your affirmation of the vow …" His right hand dropped to Aernath's right shoulder. "… Kinsman."
Jean blinked back sudden tears of relief. Kang looked at her as she cleared her vision with a quick furtive brush of her hand. She recalled his question of some days earlier: Can you personally name one instance where you've seen that theory work? "You have just answered one of your questions," she told him softly. "Yes, I have seen it work. Once." She thought she caught an answering gleam in his eye.
"I thought we were to meet another here today," Kang said to Aernath.
The young Klingon rose to his feet. "Yes, Commander. He's here." He crossed to a door leading toward the back of the house. He opened it and called softly, then stood aside. Aethelnor came into the room and took in the three waiting figures. His face lit up at the sight of Mara but his attention quickly fastened on Kang. Kang's gaze was equally riveted on the boy. Seeing the two of them together in the room, there could be no doubt of the boy's parentage.
Aernath took the boy by the hand and led him forward. "Aethelnor, Commander Kang, Aethelnor."
Kang dropped to one knee in front of the boy, his eyes hungrily taking in each line and curve of the boy's face. One hand moved impulsively halfway to the boy's shoulder, then dropped back in hesitation. "Do you know who I am? The question was barely audible to Jean.
"Yes, sir. You are my father, Kang of Tahrn, emperor-elect … and the best damn commander in the whole Klingon fleet!" These last words came out in a rush of childish delight.
Kang shot a quick glance at Mara. "I see," he said, "And who told you that?"
"Korin did, sir," Aethelnor indicated Aernath.
"Mmm …" Kang gave Aernath a thoughtful look. "And what did she say to that?" he asked, indicating Jean.
"She said I should listen to Korin Aernath because he knows more about us Klingons than she does."
"I see." This time the hand completed its quest and gently touched Aethelnor's shoulder. "That's true but she also seems to understand us pretty well." Kang's hand moved lightly over the boy, touching, caressing with a kind of famished wonderment. He indicated Mara with a nod. "What did she tell you?"
"To remember the most important rule: never to tell anyone except you who I am. To obey Korin
and Thelsa. To do nothing that would dishonor my father's name."
"My name?" Kang questioned.
The boy nodded but his attention was on something else. He stepped closer to Kang's knee looking at the Commander curiously. "Where are your weapons? Why don't you have them with you?"
Kang slipped an arm around the boy's back. His fingers crept up to Aethelnor's shoulder. "They're in our car. It makes humans very nervous for us to carry them here so we left them behind."
"Are they going to fight you?"
"No, I don't think so. At least not today. Does that worry you?"
"No, sir," the boy responded confidently. "You'd win."
"And how do you know that?"
"Mother said so. She says you'll always win."
Kang gave Mara another quick glance. "Mmm, yes. Tell me, you've been on the humans' ship. What do you think about them?"
Aethelnor placed a tentative hand on the collar of Kang's uniform. "They smell different than us," he observed with childish candor, "and they don't fight as well mostly. 'Cept Sulu. They have nice koko. K'iko is fun. She knows lots of tricks." He fingered the silver braid of his father's dress uniform.
"Sulu?"
"Yes, he fights Korin. Sometimes he wins."
To Kang's inquiring glance Aernath explained, "Duelling partner."
Suddenly Aethelnor slipped his arms around Kang's neck. "Can I go with you now—on your ship?"
For a brief moment Kang's arm tightened convulsively around his son. Then he released the boy. "You haven't greeted your mother yet. Do so now. She can talk to you about that."
Aethelnor displayed far less reserve with Mara. His greeting was accompanied by an enthusiastic hug. Then he whispered something in her ear. She smiled fondly. "Yes, I would like to see that. Do you want to show me now?" She looked at the other three. "If you'll excuse us, we will be in the back garden."
Kang nodded and watched them exit. He went to the window and watched them as they went around the side of the house. For some moments he stood looking out the window, one arm resting on the upper sash, a dark silhouette framed against the light and riot of colors in the garden beyond. He turned back to the others with a sardonic smile. "While she deals with her decision, I shall proceed with mine." He beckoned to Jean. "Come here." When she did, he put a finger under her chin tilting her face up to his. "Name your fate. Success or failure?"
"That's for you to say."
His hand tightened on her chin. "I asked you a question."
She replied evenly, "I've already named my price."
He shook his head and gave a small sigh. "You will do it your own way won't you?" His eyes narrowed as he inquired softly, "You still stand by that request—nothing more, nothing less?"
She nodded.
"Very well." He pointed to the glass breakfront across the room. "Bring me a goblet." Aernath crossed to the cupboard and brought one back. Grasping its stem between thumb and forefingers, Kang snapped it neatly in two. "It is broken." He placed one fragment in one of Jean's hands. "lt is broken." Then the remaining piece in her other hand. "It is broken. Neither bond nor consort be, you are free."
"As simple as that?" Jean said quizzically.
"Yes." Then he added somewhat hesitantly, "You retain the claim to Theld-right if you choose it. I would not leave you kin-reft in the Empire."
"You mean I can claim the protection of your household as a sort of relative, like a sister?" Jean asked, unsure of exactly what he meant.
Kang's eyes widened momentarily in startled reaction. Then he looked at her thoughtfully. "Something like that … a sister … yes, perhaps …"
A gasp from the doorway behind her caused Jean to turn. Mara and Aethelnor had returned from the garden. Mara was staring at them incredulous. "Sister! Milord, your audacity never ceases to amaze me. Even I never would have thought …"
Kang cut her off with a gesture. "If she were a Klingon, would you find her unworthy?"
Mara looked at Jean for a long careful moment. "No."
"Then," Kang persisted obdurately, "as I said … perhaps …"
"I'm afraid I don't understand …" Jean said with a puzzled look at first one, then the other.
It was Aernath who answered her question. "Kang's sister died at an early age—before she bore a son."
Suddenly Jean saw the enormity of what she had suggested. "I … I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I certainly had no intention to be so presumptuous." She bowed her head briefly. "I would be honored to be counted in the Theld of Kang, a distant relative. I shall try to be worthy of that honor." She met Kang's eyes. "Hathak Kang, kla i'il kurin aetheln."1
An answering flash of fierce pride in those eyes was Kang's triumphant acknowledgement that with her freedom he had earned what he had most desired but never obtained from her in bondage. "As I have said before: 'tis a pity you're not a Klingon, Thelerrin.2 Even so, who knows … perhaps …" The thoughtful look returned to his face. It changed a moment later to one of tenderness as he walked over and took Aethelnor's hand. "Now, my son, suppose you and your mother show me this house and garden that interest you so much."
Aernath and Jean stood side by side at the window and watched as the three disappeared into the garden. Suddenly she became acutely aware of his nearness, silent, taut, waiting at her side. Jean looked at his hands resting on the sill in front of her, then at the goblet fragments in her hand. She set them down on the small stand beside her. The finger she stretched out to touch his was trembling. "… for as long as I'm stuck in your Klingon Empire … I'm back on Federation soil, Aernath. I'm free … you're free. No more bonds." The hands gave no clues but she didn't dare look at those eyes …
He pulled his hand out from under her touch. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Jean. Spock gave me your message." Jean's heart lurched. She had forgotten that frantic message given when she was certain death was imminent and that she would never see Aernath again. But if that sentiment were not returned … better he never knew. His arms folded her in a gentle embrace and she felt his lips at her ear. "Do you suppose two ex-spies could somehow chart a course for Empire and Federation to follow?"
She reached for his face and at long last let herself plunge into those amethyst depths. "It does present an interesting problem in navigation," she murmured.
1 Roughly: I salute you Kang with the aetheln which is your due.
2 Thelerrin. A general term for a younger female of a household.
Epilogue
SPOCK, KIRK, AND MCCOY stood in the transporter room of Space Station K-7 and watched as Kang, Mara, and Klyndur were beamed back aboard the Kloode II. They had just concluded a formal banquet climaxing two days of protocols and ceremonies following the successful negotiations on Sherman's planet. At the technician's "all-clear" signal they stepped onto the pedestals, in turn, to be beamed aboard the Enterprise.
Kirk heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped down in the Enterprise transporter room, running a finger around the neck of his dress uniform. He called the bridge on the wall intercom. "Scotty, Kirk here. That diplomatic mission's over. How's the ship?"
"No problem here, sir," came the Scotsman's reply. "Uhura said to tell you there's a small celebration in Deck Five rec room if you gentlemen 'ud care to join them."
"Thanks, Scotty. A nightcap might be just the ticket before we turn in. Kirk, out." He snapped off the intercom and turned to his officers. "Spock? Bones? Care to join me?"
"Just what the doctor ordered," McCoy replied as they headed for the turbolift. "It's good to be back aboard. K-Seven looked as clean as a whistle, but I kept having the feeling I could still smell neoethylene everywhere I went."
"As usual, doctor, your feelings are totally unreliable," Spock rejoined. "Neoethylene is virtually odorless and certainly not detectable to the human senses this long after use. Perhaps your illogical fondness for those creatures has induced an ambivalence about your role in eradicating the outbreak that manifests itself as an olfactory hallucination."
&
nbsp; "Oh, you're probably right, Spock," McCoy responded affably. "It's certainly totally illogical and emotional to let oneself get engrossed in a warm, furry little creature when all it does is make a pleasant sound, wouldn't you say, Captain?" McCoy gave a knowing smile to Kirk who merely pantomimed his agreement.
Spock raised an eyebrow at McCoy's uncharacteristic agreeableness and rationality. But he saw no reason to disagree with the doctor's statement. "I believe I have pointed out in the past that I find no practical use for such a creature."
"Yes," McCoy went on as they approached the rec room, "you said, I believe, that you found them of no more practical use than an ermine violin."
Their entrance was greeted by a chorus of welcome from Enterprise officers already present. In the confusion, McCoy signaled unobtrusively to Uhura who disappeared for a moment. As the hubbub subsided McCoy remarked nonchalantly, "Oh, by the way, Mr. Spock, before he left K-Seven, Cyrano Jones entrusted me with a farewell present for you." He grinned broadly as Speck's face took on a look almost akin to alarm.
"Surely, doctor," Spock said with some force, "Not another tribble?"
"Of course not." He raised his voice slightly, "Uhura, Maevlynin." The two women entered each bearing a mahogany furred, six-legged Tsorni ngkatha. McCoy had gone to considerable efforts to arrange this surprise gift since learning of Spock's fascination with these creatures. The look on the Vulcan's face was ample reward but, as it turned out, McCoy also got the last word. "Instead, Mr. Spock, a pair of ermine violins!"
Look for STAR TREK fiction from Pocket Books
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Pawns and Symbols Page 29