As soon as we were alone, Nanclus took out a pocket communicator and spoke several words in a code I'd never heard before. There was no reply, but evidently the message had been received. He snapped the communicator shut, looking satisfied. For some reason, I didn't care for that look.
"Sel, what is going on? I thought you were in a hurry to get back to my residence, not to carry on a conversation with your ship."
"We are almost ready, Aerlyn. Bear with me." He walked over to the door and rapped twice; it opened to reveal Pardek, waiting outside in the company of several Federation security guards.
"Stay with the commander," said Nanclus. "I must have a word with Ra-ghoratrei."
"Ra-ghoratrei?" I said, surprised. "Why?"
"Bear with me," he said again, and went out, shutting the door quietly behind him.
* * *
Half an hour later, my patience was exhausted. "Really, Legate," I said to Pardek. "This is ridiculous. Where is Nanclus?"
"I'm sure he'll be back soon," said Pardek, attempting a soothing tone. "Would you care for something to eat or drink?" he asked, gesturing hopefully towards the food and beverage dispensers.
"No." At his look of disappointment, I added, "Go on, then. Help yourself."
He brightened immediately. I watched him as he considered the menu and finally made a choice. At least he was courteous enough to wait for permission before eating in front of someone he didn't know well. Perhaps certain branches of the imperial family were less ill-mannered than others. I was debating the likelihood of that when Nanclus returned.
"At last," I said. "Are we leaving now?"
"In a few moments," he said. "Pardek, you may wait outside."
Pardek nodded agreeably and left the room, carrying his stasis-packed meal. Nanclus came over to me. His eyes were tired, his thin face gaunt. "Sit down," he said. "We have something to discuss."
* * *
From the moment he had left active military service to devote himself to diplomacy, it had been obvious to everyone that Nanclus was born to the task. During the course of my own career I had seen him salvage many negotiations and treaties where other diplomats had failed embarrassingly. Lost causes were his specialty and his success. Part of his skill lay in his ability always to find the right word, the telling phrase, that would persuade and reassure the reluctant, sullen, or frightened person on the other side of the bargaining table. Now, though, for the first time in all the years I had known him, Nanclus was tongue-tied. He repeated that there was something we must discuss, but seemed unable to say anything more.
"Please, Sel," I said, "you're beginning to alarm me. This isn't like you. What's wrong?"
"Better to ask what is right." He sighed and drew in a deep breath, as if he were preparing himself for a difficult task. "Did you know that Kaslim Dro was on Earth recently?"
"No, I didn't. Whatever for?"
"He was acting as a courier for one of the imperial praetor's house managers. Apparently some piece of fine art--a small drawing, I think--was on loan to our embassy from the palace. The praetor decided that he wanted it back, and the house manager sent Dro to fetch it."
"I can't imagine Dro being used for anything like that. Why didn't they just put the piece in a diplomatic pouch and send it home on a scoutship?"
"Who knows? The praetor must have thought it deserved an escort. In any case, Dro was here, staying at the embassy. I suppose he wanted to make a holiday of it." Nanclus fell silent.
After a moment, I said encouragingly, "Is that all?"
"No. One night Dro decided that he was going to sample some Terran cuisine. He went to a dining-hall near the embassy that was reputed to set a lavish table."
"That's no surprise. He's a glutton."
"While he was there, he encountered Ambassador Tilendi."
"Well, she wouldn't have been happy to see him. There's no love lost between those two."
"In fact, she did not see him."
"I don't understand. You said--"
"Tilendi was engrossed in a private conversation with her dinner companion." He paused. "She was dining with Ambassador Sarek."
The memory came rushing back with force: Questions would be asked if I were to be recognized in Sarek's company just now.
Nanclus was watching me closely. "But you already knew that," he said, sounding not at all surprised.
I buried my hand in the pocket of my dress and felt the small sharp points of the Vulcan pyramids dig into my fingers. "I know Tilendi dined with him one night. I spoke to her before she left to meet him."
"Of course. So you also know the rest."
"The rest? What is 'the rest'?"
"Don't worry, Aerlyn. I'm here to help you, not betray you. You needn't dissemble."
"I'm not, Sel. I honestly don't know what you're getting at."
"Tilendi hasn't confided in you?"
"No. When has she ever confided in anyone? I have no idea what you're talking about."
He looked at me skeptically. "Very well, then. When Dro saw Tilendi and Sarek together, he became curious."
"Why?"
"Tilendi was wearing Vulcan clothing. It was clear that she did not want to be recognized. Why she was in a public dining-hall, where she might be seen by anyone, I haven't a clue."
A secret is best hidden in plain sight. "Perhaps they had diplomatic business to conduct," I said.
He shook his head. "What business could a sovereign power have with a Federation world? Tilendi is the ambassador to the Federation, not to Vulcan. If she wanted to communicate with Sarek, she would have done so through Ambassador Thallis."
I knew he was right; I'd long since reached the same conclusion. "Go on," I said.
"Dro went back to the embassy and asked a few discreet questions."
"Discreet! He hasn't got an atom of discretion in his bloated body, and you know it. He was spying on his direct superior, Sel. Don't try to call it anything else."
"As you like. In any case, whatever he learned from the embassy staff was enough to rouse his suspicion. He spoke to a few people in the Senate, and things progressed from there."
"His suspicion about what? Is there a point to any of this?" Somewhere deep inside me, a small knot of apprehension made its chilly presence felt.
"The point," he said, "is sedition, and probably treason. Dro discovered that Ambassador Tilendi has been conspiring to overthrow the Romulan government."
I must have sat there speechless and gaping for several seconds. So much for my Vulcan training. Nanclus had obviously seen the shock in my face, for he began to apologize. "Gods, Aerlyn!" he said. "I am truly sorry. I thought you already knew this!"
"There's a mistake, Sel. There has to be. Dro is stupid and meddlesome and malicious, and he'd say anything if he thought it would further his so-called career. Lidiya has devoted her whole life to the Empire!"
"There is no mistake." He addressed me as gently as he might have one of his children. "Do you want to hear the rest?"
"No! This is slanderous! When Lidiya learns what Dro has done, she'll have him banished for life! You mustn't spread such lies!"
Nanclus waited patiently for me to finish. "Aerlyn, our families have been friends for three generations. Your own sister attended my wife at our wedding. You know me. On my honor, I tell you that I am speaking the truth."
"Then you were misinformed," I said. "Sel, please--" But I didn't know what to plead for.
"I will say, in fairness to Tilendi, that she did not initiate this. She was approached by a group of senators and provincial praetors who wanted her to make clandestine contact with Sarek of Vulcan." He recited a list of names, most of which I recognized. "She must have thought that they were acting with the implicit approval of the Senate and the Praetorate. They weren't agitators or subversives, you know. They are all members of ancient houses."
"And that should have counted for something, I suppose." Nanclus had more faith than I did in the old-fashioned notion that honor was invariably coextensive with pedigree.
"Yes," he said, quite seriously. "It should have. But in fact they had no authority to make such contact."
"Well, then, Lidiya can't be held responsible. She believed that she was acting lawfully, so she had no guilty intention."
"I wish that were true. In fact, she soon came to support their cause."
"How do you know that? And what kind of 'cause' would involve Sarek, of all people?" As if I haven't asked myself that question a hundred times ...
"Her personal papers and communications have been seized. They are ... incriminating. And the cause is, as I've said, the overthrow of the Romulan government."
"I don't understand! How were they planning to do such a thing? Insurrection? Terrorism? Assassination?"
"No. Something more insidious, and more dangerous to everything that the Romulan Empire stands for." He was unable to keep a tremor of revulsion from his voice.
"What, then? Gods of Remus, how bad could it be?"
"As bad as this, Aerlyn: Ambassador Tilendi was working for nothing less than an end to the Empire, and the reunification of Romulus with the planet Vulcan."
* * *
Vulcans, our distant brothers. I'd heard those words spoken often in derision, occasionally in longing. When I'd said them to Kirk while he and Spock were aboard my ship, I'd intended irony and insult: Something you wouldn't understand, Captain. But Spock had understood; I had read a clear warning in his dark eyes. Not for outworlders, his look had said, as though for that moment our shared history bound us in a commonality stronger than any transient military or political animosity. Kirk might have been closer than a brother to Spock, but even he was not privy to the secrets of our two worlds--the unhealed wounds of the distant past, the unfinished business of a distant future.
A small segment of the Romulan intelligentsia had long espoused some kind of rapprochement with the Vulcans; but the people who made common cause with them were religious zealots, eccentrics, and fringe political activists, all of whom were devoid of credibility. That Tilendi would have allied herself with them, or that they might have found powerful sympathizers in the Senate or the Praetorate, seemed unbelievable.
But even as my mind recoiled from Nanclus's blunt words, some part of me was accepting his revelation as truth. It would account for so much: Tilendi's cryptic references to matters more important than any cloaking device, her preoccupation with Sarek, and above all her willingness to permit my continued contact with Spock. She had said that Ra-ghoratrei was responsible for the unwritten agreement that would keep me away from Romulus, but now I could see her hand at work, too. Tell me what has passed between you and Sarek's son ... Over the months, she'd almost certainly guessed the nature and extent of my growing intimacy with Spock, and in it recognized a potentially invaluable piece of propaganda: a love match between the son of the Vulcan ambassador to the Federation and a daughter of one of the noble houses of Romulus--
With a massive effort of will, I forced myself to speak calmly to Nanclus. "Where is she, Sel? Has she been arrested?"
"Not yet; the ministry has recalled her pending an internal investigation. She left for the homeworld last night on the scoutship that brought me here."
"Why didn't you tell me all this when I asked you earlier? You said she'd just been delayed!"
"I didn't want to upset you before you had delivered your testimony. We were obliged to let you do that much." He stood up, as if our conversation were at an end. "I am satisfied that you knew nothing of Tilendi's plan," he said. "That will make things considerably easier."
Before I could ask what he meant by that, he opened the door and nodded to a waiting Pardek. "We are ready, Legate," he said.
"Yes, Ambassador," said Pardek. "I'll notify the others." He spoke into a communicator in what sounded like the same code Nanclus had used.
"'Ambassador,'" I said. "I should have guessed."
Nanclus shrugged. "My superiors thought it the logical thing to do. For obvious reasons, they wanted a smooth transition."
At that moment a group of glittering figures materialized on the dais in the deserted hearing room. The Federation guards tensed visibly but made no overt move; evidently they had been expecting these visitors.
Feeling as though I were in some kind of waking dream, I stood staring through the open door, paralyzed with astonishment, while the unimaginable came to life before me. Four Romulan military officers, all known to me, all unarmed, and all wearing a single decoration they were manifestly unentitled to display: the blue and green ribbons of the diplomatic service.
Nanclus might as well have been reading my mind: "The secondment is temporary," he murmured, smiling a little. "Your crew members are loyal to a fault, Aerlyn, but they aren't cut out for diplomacy."
That was something of an understatement. Though Tal, Adiv, Lem, and Vanek could all lay claim to a number of useful skills, tact and compromise were not among them. And at this moment not one of them looked in the mood for any type of negotiation.
They stepped down from the dais and stood against one wall, facing their opposite numbers. No one spoke to me or to Nanclus, although Tal's gray eyes, filled with relief and determination, met mine for a single fleeting instant. My astonishment rapidly gave way to gut-churning fear as comprehension began to set in. They see this as a rescue mission!
With a brusque nod, Nanclus summoned Vanek to join us; then he closed his fingers tightly on my arm and led me back into the waiting room. "Sit down," he said. "Vanek, are you ready?"
From the pocket of his tunic Vanek withdrew a surgical hypostat. "It's good to see you again, Commander," he said cheerfully. "You're looking well, but a little underweight. A skimpy diet during your captivity, I suppose. Well, we'll soon put that right. Now, where are we?" Deft fingers searched the inside of my left elbow. "Ah, yes. Here it is."
"Vanek, what are you doing?" I tried to pull my arm away, but he was too quick. He placed the instrument against my skin briefly, then withdrew it and held it up, inspecting it critically. A tiny bionode glinted in the light.
"We won't be needing this any more," he said, and dropped the node into a nearby waste cycler. "Inferior technology. Our own locators are much more sophisticated."
"I won't do this, Sel," I said to Nanclus, trying to project both command and threat. "You're violating an agreement authorized by the praetor himself!"
He shook his head regretfully. "We haven't much time, Aerlyn. The inquiry will be reconvening soon, and we mustn't disrupt the proceedings."
"I won't do this!" I cried. My voice sounded desperate even to my own ears.
"Then you must make a choice. Your family and friends are at grave risk. I will do what I can to protect them, but if you choose to stay here even my efforts won't be enough."
"My family--"
"Your mother's friendship with Lidiya Tilendi is well known. There have been suggestions from some of your family's enemies that you colluded in Tilendi's conspiracy with Sarek. Your failure to return will be taken as proof of that allegation, and your loved ones will eventually pay for your decision. They risked their lives for you once. Don't put them in danger again."
"This is monstrous!" I cried. "You can't make me contravene an imperial order by threatening my family--"
"Don't you understand? The praetor agreed to your staying here before Tilendi's plans were revealed. The Federation's 'gentlemen's agreement' counts for nothing now. One of their ambassadors was conspiring to overthrow a sovereign government! Do you really think the Senate would turn a Fleet commander over to the Federation in such circumstances?"
"But the Treaty of Algeron--"
"The treaty has been signed and ratified by the heads of both states, and is already in force. The arrangement that involved you was never documented, never put to a vote in any legislature. Surely you see the difference."
"Ra-ghoratrei will never accept this! That treaty stands or falls on the praetor's promise that I will never return to the Empire!"
"Untrue. The treaty speaks for itself. Ra-ghoratrei has been informed of developments. Right now he is probably scrambling to concoct a story that will explain your departure."
Your departure. The words might as well have been a death sentence. And they probably are, I thought. "What are you going to do, Sel? Beam me out of here under cover of darkness and say that I left of my own free will?"
"No. A shuttle is waiting in the airpark. We will leave in full view of anyone who happens to be returning from the meal break. The Federation must know the truth, or Sarek will never be called to account for his sedition."
"If my family is truly in danger," I said quietly, hoping I could create some delay, "and if my return will save them from retribution, then I will go back to Romulus. But not before I speak with Elydex and Ra-ghoratrei. I won't dishonor Tilendi's word, or the praetor's, without more." Almost unconsciously I gathered my energy and held my body in a defensive stance: this wouldn't be the first time I'd fought for my life against overwhelming odds. The only life worth living on any world. Oh, Spock, beloved, I'll never leave this place without you--
Nanclus sighed audibly. "I'm sorry, Aerlyn," he said. "We are on a schedule, and we simply don't have time to debate this now." He motioned to Vanek. Because I had not expected to be assaulted by my own ship's physician, I reacted too slowly. Vanek was able to press something against the inside of my forearm before I could so much as get a lock on his throat. When he took his hand away I stood staring at my sleeve, expecting to see the red cloth stained dark green with blood. But Vanek had not opened my vein with a poisoned scalpel; he had merely used a hypospray to administer a drug.
"Bring Tal and Pardek here," Nanclus ordered. Vanek nodded and left the room. Already I could feel a heaviness in my muscles; the drug was obviously both potent and fast-acting. I sank down onto one of the chairs that had been drawn into a semi-circle around the table. When Tal and Pardek came in, Nanclus went to speak with them. For a few moments, no one looked my way.
Venn's and Elydex's notebooks and files were still lying on the table, awaiting their return. Fighting the mental torpor induced by the drug, I searched through a stack of padds until I found one that bore a Federation insignia. Think clearly while you still can. I had only seconds to express what I couldn't have spoken aloud or in the mindlink in anything less than a lifetime, and I had to say it in a way that would not violate Spock's privacy if someone else saw it or read it aloud. Understand, beloved, I begged him silently. Understand and forgive me.
Unable to hold the stylus steady in my shaking hand, I scribbled an instruction to Elydex to deliver the message to Spock. In a script that I barely recognized as my own, I wrote the last words I would ever say to him:
It was the only choice possible. You would not respect any other.
© 1996, 1999 Kathleen Dailey. All rights reserved.