Star Trek: Brinkmanship (18 page)

Efheny dropped her head and squeezed out a few fake tears.

“Cory, I’m so afraid,” she whispered. “But this isn’t my doing. I told our Ap-Rej before we left that our meetings couldn’t continue. But he insists! He’s the one who followed me here. How do I refuse a superior? How are any of us to refuse?” She dropped her voice. “And I’m afraid that if I
do
refuse, he’ll approach the enforcers and tell them I’m disobedient, that I’ve refused to follow his legitimate requests . . . Cory, what am I supposed to do? I’m so frightened. I was flattered at first, to think that such a one would even notice one like me. But I’ve been a fool. What am I to do? What are any of us to do?”

Efheny wiped at her leaking eyes, hoping that she had made the story convincing and that she had said enough to plant the right idea in Cory’s mind. Beside her, Corazame sat deep in thought for a while. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, but firm. “I think you already know what we have to do, Maymi.”

“If I knew I’d do it.”

“Hush. Everything will be fine. But we’re going to have to be brave. You said he might approach the enforcers . . .” She dropped her voice. “So we must approach them first.”

The previous skyturn, two Mak enforcers had come aboard, traveling on the route for a while on business
of their own. They had of course disappeared into the part of the boat reserved for the senior echelons, but the Ata quarters had been busy with the news of their arrival: Who were they here for? Was someone in trouble? A few eyes had fallen on Efheny. Neither enforcer had yet put in an appearance, but the Atas’ fascination with them would continue for some skyturns yet.

Efheny, who had been pondering their possible utility since their arrival, made her jaw drop at Corazame’s suggestion.

“
Approach
them? Cory, is that
possible
? One of them is graded BB! I’m not sure they even have any dialects in common with us.”

“If they’re graded so highly, they’ll be permitted to learn our dialect,” Corazame said doggedly. “They’ll certainly have the ability. I know it’s a risk—”

“But won’t it make us stand out? That’s not appropriate for Atas of our grade. We might end up censured—”

“But they are the only people here who have an Ap-Rej’s authority over Hertome. We’re not
slaves,
Maymi. And we are most certainly not Hertome’s slaves! You and I, all of us, we serve our beloved Rej. But because he can’t always be with us, he lets others speak and act on his behalf so that we are all under his protection, even those of us who bring so little to our world. Yes,” Corazame said, her mind made up, “we must approach the enforcers. We’ll beg permission to speak, and we’ll hope in the name of our most beloved and exalted Rej that they grant us permission and see us.”

Corazame stood and pulled Efheny up after her.
And Neta Efheny, who had intended this outcome all along, obediently followed.

•   •   •

Tarses quickly got back to Dax with the information that she needed. When Dax entered the sickbay, she saw six large containers on the nearest worktop.

“Is this what we need?” she said. Tarses nodded. “Simon, you’re a marvel!”

“I carried out some research into what kinds of skin emollients would be suitable for the Tzenkethi,” he told her. “Based also on what I learned from the solvents acquired from Outpost V-4, I’ve prepared samples of six different possible options. I have been in touch with Doctor Bishop at Starbase 261, and she confirms that she could supply us immediately with excellent stocks of three of these and produce the rest quickly. If the Tzenkethi are willing, then we can supply them with everything they need, and perhaps this crisis can be defused.”

“And if they’re not willing,” Dax said, “we can only hope that to Venetan eyes that will seem hostile or evasive.”

“Certainly accepting our offer is the most reasonable decision to make, given the alternatives,” Tarses said. “Assuming, of course, that the Tzenkethi do indeed wish to avoid war.”

Big assumption,
thought Dax, and one that Peter Alden most likely wouldn’t make. Thought of Alden put another idea into her head, one Dax didn’t like much but nevertheless felt duty bound to explore.

“Where did you get your information about Tzenkethi physiology, Simon?” she said casually, running a fingertip around the seal of one of the containers. “Did you speak to Alden?”

“The commander is still off duty,” Tarses said. “But there was sufficient information in the Starfleet Medical database.” He frowned. “Why? Should I have spoken to Commander Alden? I’m aware that he is an expert on Tzenkethi political affairs, but does he also have expertise on Tzenkethi physiology?”

“No, not that I know of,” Dax said quickly. “And better not to wake him.”

She’d learned what she needed to know. Now she didn’t have to worry that Alden had suggested to Tarses options that were in some way inimical to Tzenkethi health.
And how low have I come, to think that about a friend?
she thought.
Can I even think of myself as his friend any longer, when I suspect things like that about him?
But she had to check. She had to be certain.

“Thanks, Simon. I’m very pleased with all this. I’ll get on to Heldon right away.”

Dax returned to her ready room and got in touch with Heldon, who received the offer with a combination of surprise and unconcealed relief.
“This is very generous of the Federation, Dax. And you’re right that it could well be the way out of this impasse that we’ve all been looking for. I will of course have to consult with my Tzenkethi colleagues—”

“Of course,” said Dax, keen to appear accommodating.

“But I can’t see any reason why they would refuse. Thank you. I take this as a sign of good faith.”
Heldon gave a bright smile.
“I’m glad that at last we are finding the grounds upon which trust can be built
.”

Dax cut the comm and fell back into her chair, relieved that things seemed finally to be turning the corner. While she waited to hear from Heldon, Dax read the updated reports from Venette, which sunk her spirits for a while, until she reminded herself that she would soon be able to cut through all the diplomatic wheeling and dealing with a solution of her own. She checked in with Hyatt, and the counselor told her that Alden was still off shift and in his quarters, presumably sleeping. No signs, yet, that he was suffering any adverse effects from the mission. When Bowers eventually persuaded Dax to get some sleep herself, she went off to her quarters in a positive frame of mind:
I think I’ve got away with it. I really think we’ve cracked it. It was worth it.

Her hopes were dashed two hours later. The captain was awakened by an incoming communication from Heldon. The Venetan’s face, usually so warm, so friendly, was stern again, and very angry. Dax steeled herself. Was it possible that Heldon had somehow found out about their raid on the medical facility? They were all sunk if she had . . .

“Dax,”
said Heldon,
“a grave situation has arisen here and, as a result, I need to speak to Peter Alden. I must ask you to send him to Outpost V-4 at once.”

She knows,
thought Dax.
Hell!
But then she stopped herself.
Why only Alden? Why not Kedair too?

“That’s a most unusual request,” Dax replied calmly. “If you wish to speak to the commander, I can certainly ask him to come to my ready room, and you—and I mean you, Heldon, nobody else—are welcome to ask him whatever you like. Will that be sufficient?”

“No
.
Unfortunately that will not be sufficient.”

“May I ask why not?”

The screen went suddenly dark. “Heldon?” Dax said quickly, leaning in toward the comm. “Heldon, are you still there?”

The screen filled with a pale blue glow, and the Tzenkethi medical officer, Entrigar Ter Yai-A, came into view.

“Captain Dax,”
Entrigar said.
“Our friend Heldon has made a request of you. Are you going to comply?”

“No, I’m not,” Dax replied firmly. “Not without a very good reason. Ter Entrigar, the last time I checked, Outpost V-4 was still a Venetan base and not yet a Tzenkethi one. If you don’t mind, I’ll speak to Heldon or I’ll speak to nobody.”

Heldon’s voice came from slightly beyond Entrigar.
“I’ve made my request,”
she said.
“I can’t force you to hand over Peter Alden, nor do I wish to do so. But I’ll take it as a sign of good faith if he is here on Outpost V-4 within the hour.”

Dax, her stomach twisting with fear and incipient panic, tried to keep her voice calm. “I’ve already offered a sign of good faith, Heldon. I’ve offered a resolution to this whole crisis. How about we discuss if
your Tzenkethi friends are prepared to let you accept our offer of whatever supplies they need? Because it strikes me as very convenient that the moment I make an offer that could end this affair in a matter of days, I’m asked to surrender one of my senior officers without being given any good reason why.”

There was no reply.

“Heldon,” Dax said insistently. “Have your friends said whether or not our offer is going to be accepted? If not, have they said why?”

Still silence from the other end. What was going on down there?

“Well,” said Dax, “until I hear back from you as to whether or not our offer is going to be accepted, think about what’s on the table, Heldon. And when you see your way to responding to it, I’ll take that as a sign of good faith.”

Dax cut the comm channel and swore creatively for the best part of the next two minutes. And when Bowers alerted her that a coded transmission had been sent from Outpost V-4 to the Venetan homeworld, Dax knew she wasn’t getting any more sleep that night. Shortly, she was going to have a whole lot of explaining to do. And she would very much like a few explanations herself.

10

FROM:
Civilian Freighter
Inzitran,
flagship, Merchant Fleet 9

TO:
Ementar Vik Tov-A, senior designated speaker, Active Affairs, Department of the Outside

STATUS:
Estimated time to border: 15 skyturns
Estimated time to destination: 20 skyturns

FROM:
Captain Ezri Dax,
U.S.S. Aventine

TO:
Admiral Leonard Akaar, Starfleet Command

STATUS OF TZENKETHI FLEET:
ETA at Venetan border: 7 days
ETA at Outpost V-4: 9 days

D
ax eventually got her explanations from Picard. He appeared on the viewscreen in her ready room looking tired, fretful, and about a minute away from explosively losing his temper.

“Dax, what the hell has been going on over there? What’s all this about a bomb?”

Dax nearly dropped her coffee cup. “A
what
?”

“A bomb, Captain Dax, found on Outpost V-4. The Tzenkethi representative here, Alizome, just graced Ambassador Jeyn and myself with her presence. She had two pieces of news, neither of them good: first, Rusht is unlikely to speak to us again, and, second, this is because the base coordinator at your end contacted her to say that a bomb had been found on Outpost V-4. What’s going on? Is Heldon lying?”

That explained the coded transmission to Venette, Dax thought. “No, Heldon’s not a liar.”

“So you think they really
have
found a bomb on the base? Well, whether or not they have, the situation here has become critical. The only reason we haven’t been banished from Venette immediately is that the Ferengi negotiator has agreed to speak to the Venetans for us. That, and they happen to like Glinn Dygan . . . Dax, what is happening over there? Is this another Tzenkethi sideshow? Or is there something in it?”

Dax had hardly heard a word he’d said. Her head was spinning and the blood was thumping furiously in her ears.
Susan warned me,
she thought.
Preemptive action, she said . . .

“Dax?”

Quickly, Dax gathered herself. She cleared her throat. “Have they said where this bomb was found exactly?”

“In the medical facility.”
Picard’s eyes sharpened.
“Captain, is that particular detail significant in some way?”

Slowly, Dax rubbed a fingertip beneath one eye and then tugged at the lid. Surely this had to be a Tzenkethi ploy? Surely he wouldn’t have . . . Or would he? Hyatt had warned her. And Heldon had seen it too.

“Dax?”

She leaned forward in her chair. “Captain, we need to make sure this channel is very secure.”

They carried out the usual precautions, and then Picard, his face grim, said,
“I think you’d better speak freely, Captain Dax
.
What exactly do you think is going on?”

Dax took a deep, shuddering breath. “Before I tell you that, you need to know that the night before last we mounted a covert operation to Outpost V-4. I sent my security chief, Kedair, and Commander Peter Alden of Starfleet Intelligence over to get ahold of samples of the P96 solvents that are being stored there.”