Another sleepless night was in store for me. I'd had far too much to drink, and the effects of the espresso coupled with the brandy would take some time to wear off. I lay wide awake in the darkened room and thought about the evening's events, remembering with pleasure Uhura's splendid meal and with anger Spock's unexpected appearance.
There was no reason for him to have inquired in person about the disabled terminal; he could easily have reached a security guard through the corridor commlink and told him to look in on us. Similarly, it hadn't been necessary for him to come to my quarters last week to inform me that Enterprise had been diverted; that message wasn't urgent and could have been sent by ordinary means through the computer. For that matter, he needn't have accompanied me to Sickbay when I was ill. And he certainly didn't have to keep track of my whereabouts, for the guards followed me everywhere and, I was sure, reported all my movements to the bridge.
Perhaps he was fool enough to think that he might attempt a rapprochement before we reached Earth; perhaps these solicitous personal encounters were aimed at subtly influencing my testimony before the commissioners. That didn't seem very likely, but I could think of no other explanation. After all, our governments stood on the brink of war, regardless of Ambassador Tilendi's temporary concessions. Elydex had said that no one on this ship would try to suborn me, but that might be idealistic wishful thinking. Well, if Spock believed that he could trade on what had happened between us, he was misreading reality to a degree I didn't think even Vulcans were capable of.
Vulcans, our distant brothers. How often I'd heard the phrase from those strange, misguided dreamers, one or two of them in my own extended family, who fantasized that some day in the far and improbable future our sundered race might be rejoined. But no brother would harm a sister as Spock had harmed me, by deceit and treachery--and worse: by an unconscionable abuse of the power of mind.
For an instant I imagined that I could still feel the light pressure of his fingers on my face, feel his consciousness reaching at first tentatively and then confidently for mine--gentle, curious, reassuring, urging--holding me spellbound with wonder and desire, while meters away from where we stood Kirk completed the chain of betrayal.
Who am I to talk about misreading reality? Spock had lied, and I had been ready and eager to believe his lie. As for his method, that was between him and his conscience, or would have been if he had had one. One thing was certain: if I was going to get through this ordeal with my dignity and self-respect intact, I would have to put the hurt and anger behind me and show my enemies a seamless façade of invulnerability. "Shields at maximum," I murmured softly, glad that no one could hear.
I got up, washed my face, procured a cup of tea from the dispenser, and chose a book from the well-stocked shelf. The many hours I'd spent alone on this ship were made bearable by the presence of volumes of Terran literature in my cabin. The humans' poems and stories were filled with cultural allusions I didn't understand, and in general had proved obscure and boring; but their historical and political treatises were fascinating. When my supply of bound books ran out, I could move on to any of the thousands of works stored in the library computer--though of course I wouldn't be on the ship long enough to make much headway. I should ask someone about our ETA in Sector One ... Well, there was time enough for that. We hadn't yet dropped out of warp: even on this alien ship I could feel it. I curled up on the sofa and began to read.
Two hours later, before I finally went to bed, I interrogated the dictionary as to the meaning of the Standard words caber, gizmo, punching-bag, and swashbuckling, and appended the results to a rapidly growing list.
* * *
Elydex had said that she'd talk with me soon, and apparently she'd meant it literally. Her message arrived early the following morning: Would I be free to meet with her at 1030? I replied that I could probably fit her into my busy schedule. A feeble joke, but better than anything else I'd been able to muster lately.
I spent a long time in the shower. My overindulgence the night before had left me with the usual aftereffects, and the hot water was therapeutic. By the time Elydex arrived I was feeling reasonably alert.
"What are you reading, Commander?" she asked sociably, looking at the open book on the table.
"The Art of War, by an ancient Terran commander called Sun Tzu. I'm not sure I'm pronouncing his name correctly."
"I believe you are. That book was written nearly three thousand years ago. What do you think of it?"
"Certain things he says remind me a great deal of Romulan military doctrine. He was a rational strategist and tactician, and he appreciated the moral and intellectual components of warfare. He knew that the enemy's army should be subdued rather than engaged whenever possible. He also knew that all warfare is based on deception--and I assure you, Counselor, his observations are equally true today. May I offer you anything?" I gestured towards the water carafe.
"No, thank you. I won't keep you long, Commander. There are just a few more things I need to discuss with you before we disembark."
"I wanted to ask you about that. When will we reach Earth? We're still in warp, so we must be some distance away."
"In fact, we'll be approaching the Oort cloud in about thirty Standard hours. As soon as we're back in normal space, you'll be able to view system entry from the observation deck if you wish."
"Perhaps I'll do that."
"It's not a very dramatic entry in comparison with some, but I find that a crew's enthusiasm is often contagious." Her slight smile appeared, as if she was amused at the idea of any Reticulan's being affected by human enthusiasm. "Now, I'd like to bring you up to date on one or two matters, just to prepare you for what lies ahead."
"This sounds sinister." I'd recently learned that Standard word; it didn't mean what its etymology suggested.
"Not that, I hope. 'Challenging' may be more accurate. First, I must relay a message from Captain Kirk. He regrets that he's been unable to meet with you again. He and the other senior officers are very much occupied with administrative matters right now."
"In other words, Starfleet's on his back. McCoy used that phrase. Well, I regret that I can't offer any sympathy."
"I understand how you feel, Commander."
Looking into her deep black eyes, I thought that she probably did. "What else do I have to know?"
"That your inadvertent beaming aboard this ship has caused an uproar. You may have gathered from your visit to Starbase Four that this whole affair is what the humans call a hot potato."
"McCoy used that phrase too, but in a different context. What does it mean?"
"In essence, Commander, a situation that is likely to have unpleasant--or in this case dangerous--consequences for anyone who becomes involved in it. And your position is becoming more complicated. I am told, for example, that the people at Starfleet Command can't believe their luck. They view the possession of a high-ranking Romulan officer as a treasure somewhat more valuable than an asteroid of solid dilithium."
"Ridiculous. Starfleet doesn't and isn't going to possess me. I'll testify at that hearing, and then I'll be released into the Romulan ambassador's custody."
"That's precisely the message I sent to Starfleet Command. The Federation Council is in agreement with us: you must be returned to Romulus as soon as your part in the inquiry is over. Starfleet, however, has become wedded to the notion that you could be used as a valuable negotiating tool. I apologize for putting it so bluntly."
I shrugged. "I can imagine what Starfleet is thinking. They'd like to trade me for a few of their own failed operatives who are imprisoned in the Empire. Well, you can tell them that their happy dream will never come true."
"They have been told. Whether they accept it or not remains to be seen."
"They'll have to accept it. You can assure them that no one will ransom me or trade prisoners for me. Certain Romulan factions that oppose my family's political activities are probably scenting blood right now. If anything, I'm a liability rather than an asset to the Federation and to Starfleet. The wisest course would be for them to release me-- and soon."
"Are you familiar with the meaning of the word 'scapegoat,' Commander?"
I thought for a moment. "Someone who bears the blame for another's act."
"Correct. Captain Kirk has had recent cause to remember that definition, and so may you. Be careful."
"Always, Counselor."
"I wanted to discuss logistics with you as well. When we reach Spacedock, you will be beamed directly to secure quarters on Earth. No traveling by shuttlecraft. Ra-ghoratrei wants to keep you out of the public eye and away from the media."
"The media? Do you mean the news webs? Why are they interested in any of this?"
"Because of the outcome of certain missions, Captain Kirk and Commander Spock are routinely portrayed as galactic heroes by the more sensationalistic news agencies. Anything involving the Enterprise or its crew is of inordinate concern to them. They're like predators--we used to think the Terrans were the worst, but that was before they teamed up with the Tellarites. The government will shield you as much as possible, but I wanted to warn you."
"And when will I see the Romulan ambassador?"
"The most recent transmission from the Empire reports that her ship will dock one Standard day after the Enterprise. She will be brought to your quarters as soon as she arrives." Elydex touched a key on her notebook, and a diagram of a city block appeared on the screen. "You'll be housed in the official residence building of the Federation Council--the apartments where the diplomats stay when the Council is in regular session. They're mostly vacant now, so the building can be easily secured. I think you'll find your accommodation acceptable. Certainly it will be more comfortable than a starship cabin."
I wasn't going to tell her that this cabin was far more luxurious than the one I'd occupied on Eidolon. "Where are the council chambers located? What city?" Not that the name was likely to mean anything to me; the only Terran cities whose names I remembered offhand were Auckland, Reykjavik, Arecibo, and San Francisco, all of which had military significance.
"In a city called Ottawa. The humans would call it a 'quaint' town--the parliament buildings, now the council chambers, were built nearly four hundred years ago. That's not old by most worlds' standards, but it is by Terra's. Much of the planet's ancient architecture was destroyed during the Eugenics Wars and only gradually reconstructed. At the time of the wars Ottawa was the capital of a remote and unimportant neutral nation, and the city was spared, probably through oversight as much as anything. It's quite an attractive place."
"Unfortunately, I'm not going there as a tourist."
"Perhaps you'll find some things to enjoy during your stay."
"With respect, Counselor, I don't think that's likely. May I ask you something?"
"Certainly."
"It concerns Commander Spock."
"Yes. What about him?"
I was immediately sorry I'd spoken. What could I say? That he seemed to be everywhere I turned, even though I'd only seen him twice since that first night? That for some reason I was uneasy about him, even though he'd made no overt threat? "I wondered why--no, never mind. It doesn't matter. What else did you want to discuss?"
But she wasn't to be distracted that easily. Once again those mysterious slanted eyes held mine. "Commander Spock has his own problems," she said. "He and his department are rather overextended just now." She paused, apparently to be sure that I took her meaning. "In addition, he too was recently reminded of the definition of an unpleasant term."
"'Scapegoat'?"
"No, Commander. 'Situation ethics.' The belief that the end justifies the means--the kind of specious reasoning that Vulcans deplore above all. If Spock were fully human, he would quite probably describe himself as feeling guilty."
"He has a good deal to feel guilty about," I said under my breath. Of course Elydex heard it.
"I think he might agree with you, Commander." She stood and took my hand in both of hers. "I'll keep you informed of developments."
"Thank you, Counselor. For everything."
She tilted her head, studying me with typically Reticulan intensity. "You're not lacking for advocates on this ship, as strange as that may seem in the circumstances. You have charmed Dr. McCoy, for example, and he's been telling anyone who will listen that you are, in his words, 'a damned remarkable woman, and beautiful to boot.' Lieutenant Uhura too is greatly concerned for your welfare. And Captain Kirk, despite everything, suspects that he may have found a kindred spirit in his enemy."
"Perhaps the captain understands the exigencies of duty and military discipline, as I do. Every soldier is sometimes called upon to swear loyalty to a cause that may not be entirely his own."
Elydex waited expectantly, as if inviting me to draw some further conclusion from that premise. When I remained silent, she nodded: "Just so. But sometimes other bonds are stronger. If you have an opportunity, ask McCoy to tell you the Christmas story of the British and German soldiers on Old Earth. It's one of his favorites."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
* * *
If my situation hadn't been so grave, I might actually have found some slight humor in the fact that all I had to do was stay put in my cabin and wait for the world to come to me, as if I were a praetor receiving petitioners. At times I felt like a character in a stage play, with person after person entering my room, making long expository speeches and then leaving the scene so that the next arrival could read his lines. But I wasn't accustomed to being the passive object of others' attention, the acted-upon rather than the actor, and I was very glad to know that I would soon be planetside, where I would at least be able to view some new scenery. Even the lightly enforced confinement was starting to chafe, and I, who had happily spent my adult life on the cramped, crowded bridges of Romulan ships, was feeling almost claustrophobic in these roomy and well-appointed quarters. What I would really have liked was a long, leisurely visit to Enterprise's bridge, engineering deck, and armory, but I doubted that Kirk would be willing to conduct a guided tour. I could have asked to go to the gymnasium or the arboretum, but I had no wish to put myself on display before my enemies. No doubt Starfleet fancied that it had eliminated all xenophobes from its crews, but I knew that one or two were always present on interstellar ships. Though I was maintaining control, my temper was still balanced on a knife-edge, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to restrain myself if someone said or did something stupid. The last thing I wanted was to be detained on Earth for the next year on murder charges, as the Tellarite diplomat on Starbase Four had facetiously suggested. Resigning myself to my confinement, I settled down to read. At least that way I could be sure that no one would come to any harm.
* * *
At about 1600 Uhura stopped by to see me. She drank two large glasses of water before sitting down.
"Thanks," she said, "I'm still a little dehydrated. I'm so sorry we had to break up our dinner last night, but the captain needed me to decode another batch of messages that my junior officers couldn't handle. They're swamped." She frowned at me. "Are you feeling okay, Aerlyn?"
"I feel fine, Nyota." I supposed that eventually I would get over the shock of hearing my name spoken by a human. "Why? Are you unwell?"
She closed her eyes, as if in pain. "I had to take two Dessoulex after you left. Otherwise I wouldn't even have been able to decode the directions on the coffee dispenser, much less Starfleet's messages. Guess I didn't realize we'd finished the whole bottle of brandy."
"What is Dessoulex?"
"A detoxicant. It works very fast, unfortunately. Also, a cold shower helped."
I couldn't repress a shudder at the thought. "I find a hot shower is best."
She laughed. "I take it you're speaking from experience?"
"Regrettably, yes. In my student days I used to--well, let us say that Romulans appreciate the good things in life. Occasionally I and my friends appreciated them too thoroughly."
"Someday you'll have to tell me about it."
"Someday. Was the captain angry because you didn't respond to his command?"
"No, not really. I'd say mildly exasperated. He knew I was overdue for some time off. He just thought I shouldn't have disabled the whistle. And he was right."
"I'm pleased that you weren't disciplined."
"Captain Kirk isn't like that. He's not a martinet like some captains I've served under. He expects us to discipline ourselves, and ninety-nine percent of the time the crew lives up to that expectation. If we don't, he doesn't have to tell us. We already know it, and we make sure it doesn't happen again."
"An admirable command style, and one that works effectively with the right crew."
Perhaps she heard something in my voice, for she spoke her next words in Romulan. "A crew like yours?" The invitation was clear.
"My crew is the finest in the Fleet, Nyota. I choose my people very carefully. All are brave, none is foolhardy, and we protect one another. As a consequence, Eidolon's record is the envy of every other Romulan battlecruiser. My first officer has been decorated by the Senate many times, and all my bridge officers have received numerous commendations."
"I know very little about Romulan command structure. Is it similar to ours?"
"Somewhat." Suddenly I didn't want to pursue the topic.
"I'm not trying to pump you for information, Aerlyn," she said gently in Standard. "If you don't want to talk about military matters--"
"It isn't that. Starfleet has at least as much information about us as we do about Starfleet." As I've learned to my detriment. "It's that I must prepare myself to ... to leave my crew."
Her eyes widened. "Do you mean that you might lose your command because of--because of the cloaking device?"
"Yes." Why tell her the rest? I wouldn't degrade myself by looking for sympathy from a human, even from one who wasn't an enemy. "Surely the same thing would happen to a Starfleet commander who was defeated."
"But--" She was obviously distressed. "I don't think so. Perhaps a reprimand, or--I don't know--"
"A reprimand is not the Romulan way. It's a question of honor."
"But, Aerlyn--"
"Nyota, would you mind if we didn't discuss this?"
"No, of course not. But losing your command--I mean, nothing worse could happen, could it?"
Did she hear the double meaning in her words? "No," I said, avoiding her eyes. "That's the worst thing that could happen."
© 1996, 1999 Kathleen Dailey. All rights reserved.