STAR TREK: The Original Series - Garth of Izar

by Pamela Sargent

  “I didn’t see you beam down, Jim,” McCoy said as he approached. “How long have you been here?”

  “Just a few minutes,” Kirk said. “How is it going down there?”

  “We showed them how to open the crates,” Uhura said, “and I demonstrated how a communicator works, and after that it was obvious that they wanted to be left alone.”

  “Maybe that’s just as well,” McCoy said. “I’m not too anxious to be all that close to Hala-Jyusa, even if she isn’t carrying a sword.” He paused. “They’re completely demoralized, to tell the truth.”

  “Garth spoke to me just before I beamed down,” Kirk said. “He’s still with the smaller group of rebels, and he says that they’re just about settled. They’ll be ready to have a delegation from their group beamed here in the next day or so to talk to Hala-Jyusa’s group.”

  “I don’t think the folks down there want to talk to anybody.” McCoy sighed. “I hate to say it, Jim, but maybe Garth has interfered with the Antosians too much, even if he’s not technically in violation of the Prime Directive. Maybe the best thing we can do is to leave them alone to work things out in their own way.”

  “That will happen, Doctor,” Uhura said, “when we leave here.”

  “Yes,” Kirk muttered, “but we can at least give them a realistic chance of working things out before we go.”

  [175] On the hill above them, a pillar of air glittered and hummed, and then resolved itself into the form of Garth. “I thought you’d decided to keep away from here for a while,” Kirk called out to him.

  Garth descended the slope, carrying his long black coat over one arm. “I changed my mind,” he said. “I’ve been thinking that it might be better for me to speak to Hala-Jyusa and her group before anyone else does. I am, after all, responsible.”

  “You’re not responsible,” McCoy objected. “You had no control over—”

  “I have to do what I can.”

  “Seems to be you’ve done a fair amount already,” McCoy said, in a tone that suggested that perhaps Garth had done too much.

  Garth spread out his coat on the ground, then sat down next to a berry bush. “If I can get Hala-Jyusa to listen to me, then the rest of her followers will probably be willing to hear me out. Their exile can be a punishment, or it can become a time for healing and reflection, a time for them to—”

  Kirk’s communicator signaled to him; he flipped it open. “Kirk here.”

  “Spock here,” his first officer replied. “Captain, I have just received a communication from Wenallai, the bondpartner of First Minister Empynes. Her message came only a few moments after our sensors revealed that some two thousand Antosians are leaving the city of Pynesses and traveling east. Wenallai could tell me nothing about that, except that it seems [176] to be some kind of protest, but she informed me that a group of some one hundred other Antosians have requested a meeting with the First Minister, and asked that he come alone.”

  “A meeting?” Kirk asked. McCoy raised his brows; Uhura frowned. “What about?”

  “Wenallai could not tell me that,” Spock said, “but she is very worried about her bondpartner’s safety. When he first announced a day ago that all of the rebellious Antosians who threatened the peace of their world were to be exiled on Acra, it seemed that most of the people in Pynesses were in sympathy with the First Minister’s decision. But since then Wenallai has heard rumors that many are angry about that decision, and that the relatives and friends of the exiles are especially enraged. It is some of those relatives who want to meet with the First Minister. At any rate, Empynes agreed to the meeting and is on his way there now. Wenallai said that he was to go to a northern suburb of the city to meet with them at an abandoned ellei pen.”

  Kirk did not like the sound of that. “Spock, get the coordinates of that meeting place and tell Mr. Scott to track Empynes.”

  “We have already done so, Captain, and are tracking Empynes now. He went first to his bondpartner’s stable to get a mount and is now riding toward the meeting place.”

  “Stand by, Spock. Kirk out.”

  “I’m worried,” Garth said.

  [177] Kirk said, “So am I.”

  “Wenallai isn’t the kind of person to panic easily,” Garth continued. “If she’s concerned about the safety of Empynes, we should be, too.”

  Kirk nodded. “I don’t think he should be going to that meeting alone.”

  “Neither do I, Captain Kirk. I suggest that we beam to a spot near the meeting place and approach unseen.”

  “I was about to suggest the same thing,” Kirk said.

  “But we can’t go there as ourselves.” Garth stood up, then picked up his coat. “It will be nighttime in Pynesses now, so Antosian clothing should be enough of a disguise for you.” He handed Kirk the coat. “Put this on—it’ll hide your uniform. I’ll morph if I have to.”

  “Can you hold another form long enough?” Kirk asked. “We don’t know how long this meeting will take, and if we have to get him out of there—”

  “I’ll maintain my disguise, if it means preserving his life.” Garth’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll see how much authority resides in Empynes, in anyone whom other Antosians regard as a leader. If anything happens to him, his advisers will be at a loss for some time, with no Chief Adviser to replace him right away and no other obvious successor. And while they’re deciding how to handle that, along with having to face a situation without precedent in their history, we’ll lose the best chance we have of restoring peace.”

  A series of weak-bottomed boxes, Kirk thought again. How many would there be?

  [178] He took out his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise.”

  “Spock here.”

  “Patch me through to Scotty.”

  “Scott here,” the engineer’s voice said. “Captain, someone else left the First Minister’s compound right after he did, and now seems to be following his route.”

  “Wenallai?” Kirk asked.

  “No, Captain. She’s still inside the compound with her son. I verified that just a moment ago. It’s someone else, also mounted on one of those beasts—got one from the same stable Empynes went to and then rode after him.”

  Kirk gritted his teeth. “Scotty, beam Garth and me aboard and set us down near that meeting place.”

  “Aye, Captain. Scott out.”

  “Bones, you and Uhura stay here for now,” Kirk ordered.

  McCoy nodded. “Good luck, Jim.”

  Kirk took a deep breath and knew that he was standing directly on the weak bottom of the next box. The ghostly beam took the bright greenery of the hill from his eyes and restored him to his ship.

  Kirk and Garth found themselves on a dirt road that led away from the northern edge of the city. They had beamed down near a rambling structure that seemed to be abandoned. On the distant western shore of Greblendon Lake, he saw the lights of houses and other buildings, but there were no [179] structures near them, only flat grassy land and small flickering lights to the northeast.

  Torches, Kirk thought as he gazed at the lights. That had to be the corral where Empynes had gone. He turned toward Garth, who was in the plain knee-length tunic and leggings of an Antosian laborer; he had made himself shorter and broader in the shoulders. Even in the darkness Kirk could make out the slightly larger head, thick mustache, and heavy eyebrows Garth had given himself.

  They hurried toward the corral. Wheeled vehicles stood along the side of the road up ahead. Several elleis were tied to the wooden fence that surrounded the pen, near the crumbling wall of a building that might once have been a stable. Kirk crouched down and slipped into the shadows of the wall, followed by Garth. Smoky torches marked the perimeter of the rectangular enclosure. At least a hundred people were inside the corral, and Kirk could hear the anger in their voices.

  Empynes stood at the center of the crowd, but he was not speaking. He lifted his hands, palms out, as if trying to ward off the other Antosians.

  “You betrayed them!” one man
shouted.

  “You say that my son will be safe on Acra,” a female voice cut in, “but how do I know that? Only a few ships have voyaged to the Tiresian Islands in my time—how can I be sure my boy is all right?”

  “They are safe,” Empynes said, in a surprisingly strong tone, “and they will live when they might have [180] died—when many more of us might have died killing our brothers and sisters.”

  “Liar!” a woman called out. “We would have reached an accord with them.”

  “Criminal! You tricked us!” another man cried. “You plotted with that one there to trick the dissidents, and now you’re lying to us about everything else!” Kirk was able to make out the man in the hazy yellow light of the torches; he was pointing at a dark shape that lay at Empynes’s feet. “What was he, your spy?”

  Empynes looked toward the speaker, his face pale and drawn. “Heje-Illuss was no spy,” the First Minister said sadly. “He was an honest rebel who finally came to see how much violence and death civil war would bring to our world. He came to Pynesses at my request to meet with my advisers before returning to Acra to see what he could do to help the exiles who were once his comrades. He—”

  “You were supposed to come here alone!” someone shouted from the far end of the corral.

  “I came here alone,” Empynes responded. “I didn’t know Heje-Illuss had decided to follow me here. I believe he did so because he thought you might listen to him, that you might believe what he had to say. Maybe he also thought that I might need protection. I can’t tell you what his intentions were, but I know that they had to be honorable. He was a good man who was led astray for only a little while, and a fine healer, and he was your brother, and you’ve killed him.”

  “We’re too late,” Garth whispered to Kirk.

  [181] Kirk pulled out his communicator and held it close to his lips. “Kirk to Enterprise,” he said very softly, “and keep your voice low.”

  “Scott here.”

  “Get a fix on Empynes. He’s about six meters in front of me. There’s a body at his feet—Heje-Illuss. Empynes says he’s dead. We may have to—”

  “Damned liar!” someone was shouting. “You’ll imprison my child and then rob me of my heritage! You’ll rob all of us of what we are! We should never have listened to you!”

  Empynes suddenly cried out. Kirk looked up in time to see a spear strike the First Minister in the chest. Empynes staggered and fell backward.

  “Scotty,” Kirk said, “pick up Empynes and Heje-Illuss now.” Heje-Illuss, he thought, might still be clinging to life. “Get them to sickbay and then beam Bones up there right away.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Garth was suddenly up and running toward the corral before Kirk could close his communicator. He was about to follow, then thought better of it. Garth climbed the fence, swung himself over it, and landed on his feet just inside the corral, then pushed his way through the crowd, still in the shape of a broad-shouldered Antosian laborer, until he came to the side of Empynes.

  At once the fallen forms of Empynes and Heje-Illuss glittered and disappeared to the hum of the transporter. The Antosians who had been nearest them retreated a few paces.

  [182] “What have you done?” Garth cried, giving the words an Antosian accent.

  “Who are you?” someone in the crowd yelled. “Another spy?”

  Garth threw up his hands. “I carry no arms!”

  Kirk’s hand was inside his boot; he pulled out his hand phaser. Garth was reverting now, whether out of fear or inability to hold his shape, Kirk did not know. He flowed into his own shape and stood there in his captain’s uniform, his arms up and his hands open.

  “You all know me!” Garth continued. “I did not choose to become an Antosian, but your people healed me, you gave me back my life! I must use that life to remedy the damage I did to your culture, to avert the threat to your peaceful ways! I was not born of Antos, but this world is now as much my own as any planet! I accept being an Antosian, and sharing in whatever comes to pass among you now!”

  Garth wanted them to see who he was, Kirk realized; he had reverted to his own form with a purpose. A few people shrank back, covering their faces. Kirk crept forward, keeping well away from the tied-up elleis at his left until he was near the fence, then stood up to peer over it. The expressions on the faces of many showed him that the crowd had not expected Garth, had not anticipated his words, and for a moment the Antosians and their stepbrother regarded one another silently in the dimming light of the torches.

  Kirk gripped his phaser, set it on stun, then raised [183] his arm, aiming at the people nearest to Garth and alert for any sudden movements by others.

  He waited, slowly realizing that Garth would not want him to use his weapon, because Garth was determined that matters would resolve themselves in a certain way or not at all ... and that he would prefer to perish if he failed in his mission.

  If Garth could not be a savior, he would become a martyr.

  Kirk held his arm steady, prepared to shoot, even though he knew that once he used the phaser, nothing would go as Garth wished. His life might be saved, but it was likely that his soul, and the future of Antos IV, would be lost.

  He waited, determined not to fire until he had no choice.

  Garth stood his ground.

  Kirk’s muscles began to ache with tension. If the Antosians moved against him, if they tried to kill him, he would know that no offworlder influence would ever be trusted, that the Antosians would accept no help from outsiders, and that the planet would have to be left to its own history. There would either be a victor in the coming civil war, or a general debilitation, and a different culture would emerge, one that might one day threaten its neighbors and the Federation. But if the rebels stayed their hands now, it would be a sign of hope.

  A woman in a long white tunic came toward Garth. Kirk set his phaser on her, then saw that she had no weapon in her hands.

  [184] “Offworlder,” she said, “you call yourself an Antosian. Perhaps you see yourself as more than that. Perhaps you see yourself as our next First Minister. Perhaps that is why you infected the rebels with your dreams of power and the reason you returned here.”

  “I want no power on Antos IV,” Garth said. “I only wanted to restore you to what you were before I came among you. That is all the Federation and Starfleet, whose uniform I wear, want from you. Our Prime Directive forbids us from interfering with the natural development of a civilization, and yet I unknowingly interfered with yours. All we want now is for your people to have back the peace and social order that were your culture’s great accomplishments.”

  “By depriving us of our genetic heritage,” the woman said. “That is how you would preserve our peace.”

  “That was not my solution, but that of Empynes,” Garth answered. “He believed that the way to restore your culture was to remove the strong temptation to use your shape-changing powers for warfare and conquest.” Kirk noticed that Garth was speaking of Empynes as though the Antosian leader were dead. “He thought that once you had changed yourselves, and given up that temptation, you would be more able to preserve what was best in yourselves. He argued that the alternative was dissention, civil war, perhaps a wider war, and that the Federation, forbidden to interfere, would have had no choice but to isolate this planet. In the long run, that isolation would [185] damage your culture far more than any genetic and somatic alterations.” Garth sighed. “Empynes came up with this solution, not I, but I saw that it might be the only answer, and the only way to open your culture to more contact with other civilizations, who will enrich your own and to whom you have much to offer. And most of you Antosians went along with your First Minister—it was only a few who threatened disorder.”

  “I thought the dissidents were wrong to rebel,” the Antosian woman said. “I condemned them for breaking away and carrying weapons and saying that they would rather fight than give in to Empynes’s solution.” Some of the people near her were muttering among th
emselves, nodding their heads, and making other signs of assent. “And now I wonder if they might have been right to reject what the First Minister wanted for us.” She held out her hands. “Why do we have to give up a part of ourselves? Isn’t there any other way for us to reclaim our peaceful culture?”

  “If there is,” Garth replied, “Antosians must find it. I can do no more for you.”

  A silence fell over the crowd. Garth bowed his head. From behind the fence, Kirk gripped his phaser.

  A bearded man came forward. “Leave us, offworlder,” the man shouted. “We do not want your blood, your counsel, or your advanced technology. We want nothing from you. Leave us and go to whatever hell you and Empynes have found for yourselves, and be damned. Leave us to find our own [186] way.” Kirk sensed both grief and a terrible despairing rage in the man’s words.

  The crowd began to break up into smaller groups. Knots of people moved in Kirk’s direction. He retreated into the shadows as one man hurried to that side of the fence to open the gate, then reached for his communicator, ready to give the command to beam Garth and himself out of danger. Perhaps the people did not see him in the darkness, or maybe they thought him another Antosian. They passed with barely a glance in his direction and continued toward their vehicles. Others went to their elleis, untied them, and slowly rode away into the night. Garth watched them go, not moving, arms hanging stiffly at his sides.

  When all of the Antosians were gone, Kirk hurried through the gate to Garth. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Kirk said. “Some of them might come back. We’re not safe here.”

  Garth stared at him in silence.