Tr’Hrienteh!
Ael cried.
How can you be doing this?
She sensed some agitation in the other’s mind.
Feedback from my own condition?
she thought. Perhaps. If the operator of a mindsifter could hear the victim think, there was surely no reason the effect couldn’t go the other way. Either way, it was a moment before an answer came back.
You cannot
resist! tr’Hrienteh said, but the tone was less certain.
The pain will only increase!
It tried to increase again, and once again Ael called the wind from behind her, and the lava once more went dark. Over that crust she once again began slowly to advance. She was sure now that away at the edge of things, she saw light that was not the red sullen light of the magma-rage buried under the crust. Toward that faint chilly radiance she walked.
I was your friend,
she said.
We were good comrades for many years. How could you betray me so?
I
was
your friend,
the answer came back, furious. The pain scaled up once more.
And I was your
son’s
friend.
Ael started.
No,
tr’Hrienteh said,
you never did notice, did you? You were too busy with your eternal plotting, with your vain dreams of freedom, to notice what was going on under your very nose. Tafv forbade me any role in the rising against you. He knew too well our old friendship, and did not want to wound me further by involving me in what was going to happen. I begged him, I pleaded with him, for I wanted to be with him, to protect him. I knew what you would do to him. And you did it. That day, the day you walked into MakKhoi’s damned sickbay to see him, while he was yet alive, and then came out and left him behind you, dead, that day was the day I turned. That day I contacted Grand Fleet. Since then—
She broke off briefly, wrestling with her own emotion.
You will never know from me the damage I have done you and your cursed Kirk. You would have gone to your death anyway. Now, at least, I will have the pleasure of sending you into the dark myself, and the rebellion assembled around you will fail. It will fail here and now, before it ever comes near the Hearthworlds. That will be some small repayment for the lost life of the one who would have been my life-mate—except for you. Now tell me what I want to know, before I kill you!
The pain came swelling up through that dark surface with more strength than ever. Cracks ran swiftly everywhere, crevasses opened and the heat blasted up from them in fury. Ael held still, put her arms out in front of her, and called on the wind, called her Element by its name. The rumble in the ground and the rage of the pain slowly began to die away, leeching out of her consciousness. Things went dark again.
And now,
Ael said to the silence,
now,
and she threw her arms open.
Her eyes flew open, and saw light. Tr’Hrienteh staggered back from her, struck, bleeding from a head wound; she had been standing too close, and the powerpack from one of the straps had caught her near the eye. Ael tore the straps off her
wrists, and the electrodes off her head, and went for tr’Hrienteh.
It was not going to be easy work, in so confined a space. And worse, the other was a student of the same arts that Ael knew. Tr’Hrienteh was strong, and fast. They had worked out too many times together at “laughing murder” for it to be otherwise. But Ael had to put those memories far from her now—forget the laughter, and concentrate on the murder. It was a grief to her.
But so was the memory of her son, and so was this new treachery, reborn from that one.
Will it never be done?
she thought, and she leapt at tr’Hrienteh, striking at her. Tr’Hrienteh blocked the blows expertly. Ael struck again, and again. They crashed into the cupboards in the little room. Ael was thrown back hard against the single pallet where patients were brought to lie. As tr’Hrienteh came at her again, Ael seized her upper arms, grappled with her, threw her across the room and up against the wall. Then she spun, using the pallet for leverage, and sank one boot into tr’Hrienteh’s midriff on the lower right side, trying to strike straight through to the wall behind. She saw tr’Hrienteh’s furious face suffuse with dark green. She heard the ribs by the heart crack, and then the spine.
For a long moment, tr’Hrienteh did not move. She just hung there, looking shocked. Then she slumped over sideways, half-propped against the diagnostic pallet.
Staggering, weaving, Ael pulled herself upright to brace herself against the wall, gasping.
This comes of too much trust,
she thought.
And of my own folly. But also, of theirs.
She looked over at tr’Hrienteh.
She, and those with whom she was working—they genuinely thought that if you strike off the
neirrh
’s head, the body will lie quiet afterward. They truly do not understand what has been happening to them—what is
about
to happen.
And perhaps that is for the best.
Ael slapped the door-opener and staggered out into the hall. About halfway up the corridor, she had a sudden cold thought. Back to the sickbay she went at speed, never giving a second thought or look to the cooling body leaning against the pallet. Ael went to one of the equipment cupboards near the back of the room, touched in the combination to it, and got out tr’Hrienteh’s disruptor. Ael unlocked it, armed it, and walked out the door again, more steadily this time, with the disruptor at the ready.
Who knows? My “old friend” may have other old friends aboard who are doing something similar on my bridge.
But when she got there, and the lift doors opened, no one but her normal staff looked at her, and the Sword rested undisturbed across her seat. Aidoann looked at Ael, her expression one of utter consternation. “
Khre’Riov,”
she said, “what in Fire’s name has come to you? You look ghastly.”
“Fire’s name indeed,” Ael said softly. “Do not be concerned, Aidoann. I have simply been plugging a leak. Get me
Enterprise.
Now.”
Kirk was sitting in his quarters, at his desk, staring at a dark screen.
It went well. It really
did
go well, even though all hell broke loose at the end. So why do I feel so terrible?
It was a foolish question; he knew perfectly well what was going on. He was deep in shock over Danilov’s death, not least because of their friendship. But the timing was cruelly unfortunate. Dan had been the one man he could have known was absolutely both trustworthy enough to carry home the message that most desperately needed to get there, and influential enough to make sure that it reached the necessary destination. Now, before the other Federation ships left the area, he was going to have to think of something else to do, and fast.
The mental image of the terrible thing that was making its
way stealthily toward Earth’s sun had been obsessing Jim through every minute that something more immediate hadn’t. Now that Augo was over, it was starting to get in the way of eating and drinking and thinking and sleeping—which was completely understandable, but was also making it impossible for him to pay as much attention as necessary to the ten thousand other things he had to be taking care of right now.
He put his head down on his arms and tried to think.
I need another courier,
he thought, and laughed a small hopeless laugh under his breath.
Someone who has easy access to the highest ranks of Starfleet Command, and absolute credibility with them.
The communicator beeped.
Wearily he reached out and punched it. “Kirk here.”
“Captain,”
Ael said.
“We have a problem.”
“Really?”
She sounded rather surprised at the flatness of his tone.
“Or rather, we have had one, but it is solved.”
“Oh? What?”
“I have found out how Grand Fleet has been anticipating our moves so neatly.”
He straightened up. “How?”
“We have had a Grand Fleet agent on my ship for quite a while now. But no more.”
“Who was it?”
“Tr’Hrienteh.”
He stood up in shock.
And I thought
I
sounded upset.
“Ael!”
“She will send them no more messages,”
Ael said.
“I am in the process of going through her computer storage right now. She seems to have thought that there was an adequate erase-lock on her files, but she was a doctor, not a computer programmer.”
“How long will it take you to go through her data?”
“Some time, I think. It is encrypted—”
“I’ll have Spock give you a hand.”
“I would very much appreciate that.”
She was controlling her voice very tightly.
“Ael,” he said, “I’m so sorry.”
“Yes,”
she said, and the weariness showed through.
“So am I. And, Jim, I sorrow for your loss too. Ddani’lov did not trust me, I know, but I also know that he was your friend and wished you well.”
“Yes,” Jim said. “Yes, he did.” He let out another of those long sighs that seemed to keep escaping him at the moment. “Ael, while we’re talking—I want to conference with Veilt and his fellow Clan-Chief as soon as I can.”
“Thala,”
Ael said.
“I will arrange it, if you like.”
“Thanks. The gist of it is this, though. We should go straight in, and immediately. You should call in all your remaining forces to meet us. I don’t think that Grand Fleet now has enough ships close to ch’Rihan and ch’Havran to stop us. They’ve miscalculated, I think, and we should press the advantage before they think we’ll dare to.”
“I agree,”
Ael said.
“Spock and I will carefully check tr’Hrienteh’s data to see if there is evidence to support your theory.”
“And if there’s not?”
“Later for that,”
Ael said.
“But you are having one of your hunches, I think.”
“Don’t know if I put much trust in those today,” Jim said.
“I do,”
Ael said,
“so be still. Also, Captain—just before I went down to see tr’Hrienteh for the last time, I received a message from K’s’t’lk begging me to come to see her and Scotty as soon as I might. They knew you were busy with other things, so perhaps they have not messaged you as yet, or you simply have not seen it. But I think we must talk with them as soon as may be.”
“All right,” Jim said, leaning on the desk again. “You sort out Veilt and Thala. I’ll set up something with Scotty and K’s’t’lk. Call me when you’re ready.”
“I will.”
There was a short pause. Then Ael sighed.
“We are both a little bruised right now, are we not?”
she said.
“Bloodied,” Jim said, “but unbowed.”
“There is the Kirk I know,”
Ael said.
“I will talk to you shortly. Out.”
Jim stretched, and glanced around his quarters.
A shower would be good, but it can wait for the moment.
He reached into the closet and pulled out a clean uniform tunic, stripped out of the old one, put the new one on, and headed out of his quarters and down the hall.
Another courier,
he thought, trying to pick up where he’d left off.
Someone who has access to the upper levels at Fleet. But also somebody who can walk into the office of the President of the Federation and make himself or herself or itself heard. Someone I know to be absolutely trustworthy, and who the President will also know to be so. Somebody who—
Right there in the middle of the corridor, he stopped. A crewman who was walking close behind him almost bumped into him.
Very quietly, and pretty vehemently, Jim began to swear, and to laugh.
“Uh, sorry, Captain!”
“Don’t worry about it, Ensign Li,” he said, and waved Kathy Li past him. “It wasn’t you. Go on.”
She hurried past him, blushing. Jim, though, stood there and shook his head at himself, then headed on down the corridor.
I can’t believe it.
I can
not
believe it! It’s been under my nose for days. But all this damn admiral business kept me from seeing it.
At Spock’s door, he hit the buzzer.
“Enter,” said the voice from inside.
Jim went in, glanced around as the door closed behind him. Spock was sitting in meditative mode at his desk, gazing at the screen, but otherwise looking surprisingly unoccupied. He started to rise; Jim gestured him back into the seat.
“Mr. Spock,” Jim said, and came over to the desk, glancing at the screen. It was showing a view of ch’Rihan and ch’Havran.
“Captain?” Spock said, looking slightly bemused.
“I was just talking to Ael,” he said. “She’s found a leak aboard her ship.”
“It would not surprise me,” Spock said. “The strains of the recent combat on any vessel of
Bloodwing’
s age—”
Jim started to laugh again, and then stopped himself. “Not that kind of leak.”
Spock’s eyes widened. “You mean the ‘mole’ she has long suspected?”
Jim nodded. “Tr’Hrienteh.”
That took even Spock by surprise. “She must be profoundly affected,” he said after a moment.
“That’d be a fair bet,” Jim said. “She’s going through the surgeon’s computer files at the moment. Apparently they’re encoded. She could use your help.”
“I will go immediately,” Spock said.
“One thing before you go,” Jim said. “And depending on the schedules of those ships out there, you may want to do it first.”
Spock looked at him inquisitively.
“Mr. Spock,” Jim said, “I want you to send a message to Sarek.”
Spock put his eyebrows up. “I have been composing one. As a matter of course, I send such communications to my father whenever we…” He trailed off.
“Get into yet another life-and-death situation,” Jim said. “Of course you would, Spock. It’s entirely logical.”
Spock gave him a quizzical look. “In fact,” Jim said, “were I
ever
so paranoid about communications coming out of this ship, I would nonetheless assume that you would send such a message, and so no one else will be surprised when you do.”