"It is Mr. Spock's idea," Kirk said lamely.
"I've heard of cosmetic enhancement," Barbara said, walking onto the bridge. "But is it reversible?"
"That was a primitive medical technique used a good deal in the twenty-first century, during a time of extreme vanity," McCoy said. "Even reversible cosmetic surgery is possible, but I don't have the proper equipment with me. And even if I did, I wouldn't make someone look like a Klingon."
"We were thinking more along the lines of a temporary situation. Theatrical makeup."
"Makeup?" said Uhura.
"Actually," Mr. Spock spoke up, "I have had some little experience with this. When I was part of a little theater group. As an actor."
"You were an actor?" Chekov said.
"It was a hobby for a short time. In any case, we once mounted a production of Romeo and Juliet, and a rather theatrical stage director who was somewhat more imaginative than logical"—they could tell that Spock was being polite—"decided that the Capulets would be Klingons. It was his … concept, shall we say. And so we spent weeks perfecting our Klingon makeup technique. It did not work."
"Well, if it didna work," Scotty said, "what good is it to us now?"
"I meant to say that the production did not work. The Klingons are not well regarded in most of the Federation, as you know, and that gave all of the audience's sympathy to the Montagues. Thus, the production divided the characters into heroes and villains which, I think you will agree, Shakespeare did not intend for that particular play. However, the makeup fooled everyone. Almost."
"What almost?" Kirk asked.
"The ears. We Vulcans have rather well defined ears. We had great difficulty disguising them."
"No problem," Kirk said. "You'll make me up. I'll go down to Beta Prometheus and attend this rally."
"I'll go with you," Barbara said. "One person won't be safe. There ought to be at least two, in case something happens."
"That is an excellent notion, Cadet O'Marla," Spock said. "And thank you for volunteering. Your commitment to our cause is most gratifying. However, we will need a helmsman to remain aboard, for the ship will be in danger of discovery within the Beta Prometheus star space."
"Well, then—" Uhura began, and stood up.
"And we'll need an excellent communications person to remain aboard as well," Spock said quickly. "Someone able to deal with the Beta Prometheus language if necessary."
Uhura sat down again.
"Then I'll go," Chekov said.
"I would much rather you remain as navigator. You and O'Marla will have to bring the Princess within transporter distance of Archnos, and that could be dangerous. We also cannot accept you, Mr. Scott," Spock said just as the chief engineer was about to speak. "We need your skills here, especially in the transport room. You will have to stand by to pull them out of there the moment anything goes wrong."
"Well, let's see." Dr. McCoy looked around. "That leaves … uh, that leaves … " He realized everyone was looking at him. "Me?" McCoy stood up abruptly. "Wait a minute. The last time I went near a Klingon ship I was thrown in jail and froze my butt off."
McCoy looked around him, sighed, and sat back down. "I guess I volunteer," he said lamely.
"Then that," Kirk said, "will be our first step. Now, while Spock works on us, would you, Uhura, and you, Barbara, go back to the starbase and forage for some appropriate clothes."
"Sure," McCoy grumbled. "There ought to be a Klingon haberdashery somewhere about the galaxy."
Two hours later Kirk and McCoy came out of the bathroom. Kirk sported an enormous forehead with waves of ridges running down to the bridge of his nose. McCoy had three vertical ridges on an almost bald head. Both were darker, and McCoy had a sour-looking beard and mustache. They were clothed in dark tunics of leather and metal, and their thick boots made them inches taller. They climbed the access ladder back up to the control deck, and walked onto the bridge. Scotty shot out of his seat.
"Heavens awake! Will you look at them now," he said, smiling. "I've nae seen two more Klingon-looking Klingons. Why, General Chang himself could not smell the difference. I've never seen anythin' like it!" he crowed.
"I've never seen a Klingon in person," Barbara said, "but you look just like the holographs I've seen. Mr. Spock, you did an incredible job."
"Thank you," Spock said. "It was merely the careful application of the correct physiognomy and the patience of my two models. I believe they now stand a chance of fitting right in with the local population. At least in the high-traffic freight areas where Klingons are common."
"What about if someone talks to them?" Barbara asked.
"We have solved that problem too, I believe. We have hidden Universal Translators under their tunics. Anyone who speaks to them, they will hear in English. Anyone they speak to will hear them in Klingon, Just be careful not to talk very much," Spock warned them. "Your voices are not nearly as guttural, your lips won't be a perfect match for the words they'll hear, and you know little of their customs and culture."
"Right," said Kirk.
"I hope we don't run into anyone we know," McCoy said.
"In this corner of the galaxy, it is extremely doubtful. You are very unlikely to be recognized," Spock said. "Nevertheless, keep your communicators on at all times, and we will be monitoring your whereabouts."
"I was thinking more about the embarrassment than the safety," McCoy grumbled.
Chekov and Uhura came onto the control deck as Scotty climbed down to the engine room. Chekov stopped in his tracks, and Uhura let out a yelp of surprise.
"Don't worry, it's only us humans," McCoy said.
"You look incredible," Chekov said.
"Thank you, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said. "What news?"
"We've isolated the coordinates of the rally site using the data on Archnos which Barbara brought." His hands played over the console, and a street map of Archnos illuminated the monitor.
"Well, we might as well get started," Kirk said. "There ought to be several more hours of Promethean sunlight left." He sat in the command chair, but found everyone staring at him. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing, Captain," Chekov said. "It's just that I never thought I vould see a Klingon sitting in the command seat of a Starfleet wessel. Even an unofficial one." He smiled and sat in his navigator's chair.
A few minutes later the Princess was in orbit near Beta Prometheus 1. Kirk jumped up out of his chair. "All right, Mr. Spock. The command is yours. Bones, let's go down there and take a look."
"Jim, suppose they recognize us as human beings?"
Kirk turned and took a good look at McCoy.
"Bones," he said. "I don't even recognize you as a human being. You look like a Klingon. You sound like a Klingon. In those clothes, you're beginning to smell like a Klingon. Believe me, the only danger we'll be in today will come from running into somebody who hates Klingons. Come on."
He and McCoy hurried to the transporter platform, where Scotty met them.
"Just a couple of Klingons, or I'm not my mother's son. All right, good luck," Scotty said as he worked the controls.
The two Klingons disappeared from his platform.
The city of Archnos
On Beta Prometheus 1 the air was crisp, the temperature cold, and the blue sun low in the sky by the time Kirk and McCoy arrived. The most modern buildings appeared to be nearly windowless, and made of a shiny metal. The streets themselves were not wide. They tried to take a direct path to the location of the rally, but many of the streets wound around in odd ways. Clearly the city had not been laid out by a master architect, but grown every which way over the centuries.
There were signs everywhere of the Only Way. They exhorted citizens to appear daily at the Conclaves, to raise their children to the Higher Calling, to follow the Book of Muharbar. They called themselves the People of Light, though it seemed to McCoy, an inveterate grump where any kind of organized worship was concerned, that "Light" was an oxymoron when artificial belief systems were involved.<
br />
Prometheans scuttled back and forth on their squat, four-legged bodies. Other aliens also walked the streets. There were enough Klingons to give them some small feeling of security, though both men froze the first time they passed a group of them. Fortunately, Klingons appeared to be as unfriendly to each other as they were to humans, so Kirk and McCoy did not find it necessary to engage in a conversation.
"This way, I think," Kirk said and started off.
"Oh, great," McCoy grumbled, and shambled along after him. "A walking tour of the city."
They walked with purpose, tried to maintain an arrogant bearing, and looked like they knew where they were going. After a while they found themselves on a more fully populated street, walking in the same direction as many others. At last Kirk and McCoy made their way into a district of warehouses, docks, and shuttle fields. Signs of intergalactic trade were everywhere.
"There's the rally, in that big building straight ahead," Kirk said.
Eventually the crowd overflowed the sidewalk, and droves of people moved along the street in the same direction, carrying Kirk and McCoy with them. It was a good thing that other Klingons and two-legged aliens were in evidence, for the tide of Beta Prometheans moved three times as fast as the others with their four muscular legs and lower center of gravity. The Prometheans tended to scuttle out into the street and stream past the slower life-forms. As everyone got closer to their destination—by the last block it seemed as if the whole community was heading for the rally—the Prometheans brushed passed real Klingons, who were slower, and tended to remain arrogantly gaited and in their own world.
Kirk strode forward. Half a block away he said under his breath, "Remember, keep your Translator off if we talk to each other, and on if you have to talk to someone else. But try not to talk at all."
There was hardly time to say more. As they came within twenty yards of the doors to the warehouse, the crowd became so intense that it would have been impossible to turn and change directions. The doors stood open, and a sign overhead said something indecipherable in alien script.
"What does that say?" McCoy asked.
"I don't know. I don't read Promethean," Kirk said. "Come on."
They stepped into a lobby with hundreds of others. There were several tables staffed by young Beta Prometheans, and the walls were coated with posters, which carried more slogans or announcements much like the one over the front door.
The young Beta Prometheans smiled and nodded, and several said "welcome" in Klingon. Kirk and McCoy nodded and passed through another set of double doors guarded by two Klingons who didn't smile but stamped their feet as Kirk and McCoy went by.
The interior space was enormous, and the large floor was filled with spectators. There were several hundred beings, including Prometheans, other aliens, and Klingons, all facing a high platform at the far end. On the platform several representatives of alien races were standing, and one Klingon was exhorting the crowd. His speech was punctuated continually by shouts and roars and applause from the crowd. Kirk and McCoy were separated by the milling mob. Kirk worked his way to the front of the hall, and stood just under the platform.
The rally featured a number of speakers who decried the Federation as imperialist aggressors, and used the hostages as examples of spies. Klingons warned their "fellow workers" that the Federation wanted to control the dilithium mines and would soon take them over, subjugating the Prometheans. The Clerics described a paganistic, morally lax Federation anxious to export their decadence throughout the galaxy.
After half a dozen speakers, the crowd worked itself up into a frenzy, and Kirk found himself raising his right fist and extolling the purity of the Beta Promethean people and their friends the Klingons. He used the tumultuous activity to look around, and spotted McCoy in the front ranks near him.
Damn. If we get too far apart from each other I could lose Bones in the crowd. He worked his way over to McCoy and stood next to him.
"Furthermore," the Klingon was saying, "the Federation wishes to impose its regulations upon the entire universe! They wish to impose their culture upon the entire universe! They wish to subjugate all races which they consider alien! They are attempting to destroy all non-Federation societies and place themselves at the center of a Federation-only cosmos!"
A roar of agreement went up.
"They have sent their warships to the very edge of this system! They have sent spies to prepare for their attack! But we are not fooled!"
Another roar of agreement.
"We must be vigilant! This disease must be destroyed. We must build a galactic army that is capable of beating back these imperialist Federationists!"
A third great roar. Kirk began to feel a bit claustrophobic. The heavy makeup didn't help.
"My friends, listen to me," the Klingon orator went on. "Only days ago a dozen spies were sent in a Starfleet warship to prepare the way for an invasion." He turned and nodded, and several of his cohorts on the platform hurried down to the back door. They opened it, and Prometheans carrying weapons walked through. Sulu and his eight fellow officers were led onto the floor in front of the platform in single file.
The Klingon orator told the crowd to look and see for themselves how the Federation had sent spies into the Beta Promethean star system.
"Although we captured these spies, there are more gathering even as we speak, at a nearby starbase belonging to the Federation. Dozens of their warships are preparing to launch an attack on Beta Prometheus. Only the great Klingon Defense Machine can stop them. Only when each Starfleet cruiser is matched with the more powerful Bird-of Prey will the balance of power be restored. The Klingon treaty with the Federation must be denounced! The Klingons are your friends! They will stand shoulder to shoulder with you against the imperialist destroyers! Stand up for the Beta Promethean culture or it will be destroyed, just as surely as the Federation has destroyed or subjugated so many other alien races."
Kirk looked around. He didn't feel safe, but logic told him that he was. There were a number of Klingons in the crowd, and in any case the crowd was so turbulent and chaotic that no one was looking at them. He lowered his voice and said with as little emotion as possible, "Let's get closer." He moved forward, and McCoy followed.
Kirk worked his way through the crowd until he was only a few feet in front of Sulu. Sulu stood stoically, his head held up, his face without expression. He didn't look at Kirk.
"Federation spy," Kirk said to him without malice.
Sulu didn't flinch. But his face altered imperceptibly, and Kirk knew that he had heard the words in English, as Kirk had said them.
"Federation spy," Kirk went on in what he hoped sounded like a menacing growl in Klingon to those around him. "Your Starfleet comrades are coming. We will be ready for them. Do you understand?"
Sulu looked over the faces in front of him. But he saw only Prometheans, Klingons, and assorted riffraff from the galaxy. Kirk spoke again.
"In memory of General Chang, we of the true Klingon Empire will be triumphant." He raised his hand and indicated himself with his finger. Sulu looked right at him. Kirk nodded imperceptibly. He couldn't tell whether or not Sulu understood. The Excelsior commander showed no sign of recognition.
"We repeat. This is Beta Prometheus star traffic control. Identify yourself."
Aboard the Plush Princess everyone was sitting very still. The voice transmission boomed in the small cabin for the second time.
Uhura hesitated. She looked up.
"What should I say, Mr. Spock?" Uhura asked.
"How about, 'We're the crew of the Enterprise, and we're going to blow you out of the skies if you don't return Mr. Sulu, you nasty little planet,'" Scotty suggested.
"Mr. Scott," Spock said sternly.
"Sorry," Scotty said.
The same voice came back. "Attention Plush Princess. You are trespassing in Beta Prometheus star space without prior permission. A Promethean ship will approach and scan you."
"Let me talk to them," Sp
ock said.
Uhura ran her hands over the console and nodded.
"This is Spock, captain of the Princess," Spock said in a whiny voice. "We are a pleasure yacht out of Talos. Did you say Beta Prometheus?"
"That is correct."
"I am afraid we have made a bad navigational error," Spock said apologetically. "We were headed for the Delta Triciatu system. For recreation."
"Stay where you are until our starship approaches and gives you permission to move," the voice growled.
"They could spot the two torpedoes I borrowed," Scotty whispered.
Spock looked at Scotty and one eyebrow rose.
"I told you," Scotty said. "I borrowed two torpedoes in case of an emergency. I've attached them to the underside of the saucer."
"We were just leaving," Spock said to Promethean control. "We did not mean to be any trouble. I believe we transposed a couple of coordinates by mistake."
"Do not leave your star space until—"
"Plush Princess out." Spock nodded to Barbara, who was watching him intently from her seat at the conn. She swiveled to the controls and quickly touched them. The Princess veered to its right and shot into space, leaving the leisurely orbit over Beta Prometheus. In distancing itself from the Beta Prometheans, however, it went well beyond matter-energy transport distance for Kirk and McCoy on the planet below.
"Death to the Federation," the Klingon leader shouted above them.
"Death to the Federation!" the crowd answered.
"Death to the Imperialist aggressors!"
"Death to the Imperialist aggressors!" the crowd answered.
"Long live the Klingon Empire!"
"Long live the Klingon Empire!"
"So I ask you, friends of Klingons, what should we tell the Ruling Family? Do we want to lie down and roll over for the Federation, or do we want to fight them?"
"Fight them!" the roar answered.
"What should we do if the Ruling Family fails to stand up for the Beta Promethean people and all other nonhuman species in our galaxy?"
"Depose them!" the cry rose up.
The Fearful Summons Page 18