Six

THEY DROVE DIRECTLY to the spaceport and beamed aboard Kang’s cruiser. A crewman took her to a room forward in the officer’s section. She explored her new surroundings curiously. A bed with attached small sofa occupied one corner. At the foot of the bed was a small desk. A table and two chairs completed the furnishings. Recessed over the bed was an aquarium with a number of small brightly colored fish. The niche over the table held not the familiar image of Durgath but an exquisitely wrought statue of a lithe female form: Cymele, the goddess of the fields and forests. Tsuyen had told her that Cymele was also the protectress of women. Thoughtfully, Jean turned it over in her hands. It was made of some unknown ivory-colored substance, warm and satiny to the touch. Replacing it she turned to unpack her belongings. Inside the clothes locker were several standard female Klingon uniforms. Startled, she momentarily wondered if she had been assigned to bunk with a female crewmember. She had seen none on board. Moreover, there was no other evidence that the room was occupied. The clothing must be for her. It fit. Emboldened by her apparent change in status, she opened her door and checked the corridor. The guard was there.

“Do you require something?”

Nonplussed, she gave the first command that popped into her head. “Accompany me to Aernath’s lab.”

If he was surprised to see her he didn’t show it. “Hi. You’re just in time to help me unpack.”

As usual she was impatient for news. “Aernath! What did he say to you? What is going to happen now?”

He shook his head briskly. “Here, help me with this, will you?” He carefully positioned a large potted plant, then turned to her with a wicked grin. “Now all they’ll pick up is static if they’re monitoring. It drives Security crazy. They must check that ‘bird’ a dozen times a year, but it only ‘malfunctions’ erratically. That,” he indicated the plant, “produces electromagnetic impulses that jam the pickup. An obscure botanical fact I’ve never bothered to publish.”

Though chagrined at forgetting Security for a moment, Jean giggled. Sometimes Aernath seemed almost human. “O.K. Give. What did Kang say? Where are we going now?”

“Klairos. I was hoping for Peneli but seasons are wrong and besides, the blight is worse on Klairos I gather. So that’s where we go. Kang is very pleased—whatever his grand plan is, he says things are going accordingly.” He frowned. “I wish I had a better idea what he was thinking.”

“What can you tell me about Klairos? And did Kang say anything about me?”

“It’s a fairly recently settled rim world. Primitive culturally. Most of the inhabited areas are mountainous. The lowlands are largely marsh I gather—not reclaimed yet. I’ll get the tape for us to review tomorrow if you like. As for you, no, Kang didn’t say anything specific. But I told you he was pleased. I expect he’ll let you know himself.”

“I guess he already has, in a way. I’ve been put in officer’s quarters.”

He grinned. “See, what did I tell you? Hope he put you next to Tirax. It would serve you right after all your suspicions.”

She smiled wryly, not bothering to belabor the point that a gilded cage is still a cage. So far Aernath had been right in his predictions but she still harbored that cold ‘if’ whenever she thought of home. Kang held the key, but did he ever intend to use it?

The lab shipshape once more, Aernath invited her to eat with him in science mess as Kang and his lieutenants were winding up a couple of days of meetings planetside. “And I’d give my glory fruit bush to know what they’re talking about. There’s a full hand of cruisers in orbit here right now, and a Romulan ship, too. I sure hope the Tseni virus hasn’t hit any new planets.”

Eager to exploit her new status, Jean readily accepted Aernath’s invitation. The mess room was largely empty. Most of the crew, being from Tahrn, were apparently taking shore leave. Not surprisingly the xenozoologist who joined them was from Peneli. She listened as he and Aernath exchanged snippets of rumor and speculation about Peneli. The conversation turned to their stay on Tahrn. Aernath reported not only their success but also the latest inroads of the famine and the populace’s response to more stringent rationing.

“It’s a grim time,” the zoologist agreed. He gestured at the half-empty room. “Those who’ve taken shore leave come back with similar reports.” He shook his head. “I’ve no desire to revisit Tahrn at a time like this.” The two Klingons lapsed into a gloomy silence.

Jean changed the subject. “Then you’ve been on Tahrn before?”

“Yes, I did field work here for some time.”

“Perhaps you can identify an animal for me. No one at the station recognized it from my description.” She described her orange furred fisher.

“Sounds like a boryx—not too common. Nasty little beast.”

“Why do you say that?”

“There are two varieties: barred and plain. Won’t share a territory. Vicious fighters—the males castrate each other frequently. So they aren’t too common. But that’s nothing to what you’ll face on Klairos. Now there’s a planetful of nasty creatures.”

“You’ve been there, too?” she asked.

“Nope. Wouldn’t mind spending some time there collecting specimens—if I had a healthy supply of photon torpedoes and a reliable scanner alarm. They come at you from air, land and marsh.”

“Sounds like a great place for a quiet little agricultural experiment.” She grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know, but what can we look forward to?”

Among the zoological delights that awaited them according to him were the dagger-tooth: a 120 kilo, furred predator of the mountains; the greater snowbird with a three-meter wingspread and talons that could carry off a full-grown Klingon; plus a host of uncatalogued amphibians that made the marshes acutely inhospitable. Dr. Eknaar joined them as the zoologist completed his description of one amphibian that sounded to Jean very much like the mythical Terran dragon she had heard of from her grandfather’s fairy tales.

“Some of their microscopic creatures aren’t too pleasant either,” the doctor added. “At least for Klingons. My guess is they’d work about the same on human physiology. You better come by with Aernath tomorrow and start your immunizations.”

“Thanks, I will.”

As they recycled their trays Aernath remarked, “Well, I think I’ll go play a little tsungu down in Security and see what I can pick up about the conclave. Want me to see you to quarters first?”

She shook her head decisively. “No thanks. I can get myself there.” It wasn’t exactly home territory, but the cruiser had a familiar feel to her now. She was prepared to use her new freedom of movement aboard to the hilt. She passed through the corridors unchallenged and the guard at her door merely nodded as she approached. At the door she touched the interior thumb lock. It worked. Casually she asked, “Will you be here all night?”

“If you wish.”

“I do not,” she replied firmly. “You may go. Good night.” When she checked a moment later he was gone.

She thumbed the lock and cheerfully made for the head. Inside she looked with sudden dismay at the opposite wall. There was another door obviously connecting to adjoining quarters. The door leading to her quarters had a thumblock but this one had none. Whoever occupied the other room could lock her out but she could not reciprocate. Her new sense of security and confidence evaporated as she recalled Aernath’s joking comment. Had Kang put her next to Tirax? There was no sound audible from the other room but she knew Tirax was with Kang. Well, no shower tonight she decided. Quickly completing her toilet, she went back to survey her room thoughtfully.

Pulling off her boots she slipped out her dagger, then installed herself with pillow and blanket on the floor of her clothes locker, leaving one door slightly ajar. Not especially comfortable but it afforded a measure of cover in case of an uninvited visitor. She spent a cramped but otherwise uneventful night.

The cruiser had left orbit by morning. After a call at sick bay for immunizations, they spent the day viewing tapes on Klairos. Jean learned that among the customs Aernath had characterized as odd and primitive were the practice of having several children, an extremely low status for women even by Klingon standards, and direct patrilineal inheritance. Of the latter he said, “Barbaric custom. Very antisocial. You can’t maintain a decent social structure with an ingrown system like that.”

Apparently, the bewildering system of inheritance through the maternal uncle fostered a set of interrelationships and loyalties that were of great value in Klingon society. Someday she must explore this in more detail. At the moment their task was to make plans for introducing the new grains here. They would be arriving at the end of winter and would need to get underway at once as the growing season in the mountain highlands was very short for their purposes.

“It would be extremely helpful if we could field-test it in the lowlands as well,” he fretted. “I hope we can requisition at least one small section of polderland while we’re there.”

“That would mean a full twenty day gain in growing season but a lot more moisture. May drop the protein a bit. It’ll be interesting to see what happens.” Given the choice, she would have preferred to be working in Federation territory. Nonetheless, Jean was caught up in the rising excitement of another chance to test her strain’s performance under diverse conditions. And, she hoped, halt a famine in the process.

She returned to her quarters at the end of the day to find the guard had a message. “The commander sent a package for you and expects you for dinner.”

The package was a dress of some soft shimmering material. Kang must be pleased indeed, she reflected as she dressed for dinner. Perhaps she should approach him not only about security from her adjoining crewmember but also with the question of her release. They had heard no reports of any virus spread beyond the three original planets. If work went as well on Klairos as it had on Tahrn, surely Aernath could tackle the problem on his own planet without her aid. If she could get Kang to give his word now, she could face the months on Klairos with equanimity. If … if … if … finally there was that last cold “if” still sitting on the threshold of her consciousness. In spite of Aernath’s assurances, could she really trust a Klingon commander to deal fairly with someone from the Federation? Especially this one? But tonight she felt optimistic. She greeted the guard almost gaily. “Commander’s quarters please and then you may go for the night.”

She was surprised to find Kang’s quarters were close, in fact, around the corner on the next corridor. He seemed geniunely pleased to see her. “You’re very formal this evening, my dear.”

She smoothed her skirt with unaccustomed diffidence. “Well, it is a beautiful gown and it seemed appropriate to wear.”

“Of course. What I meant is I expected you to come through from your quarters.” As they entered his room, he gestured to the opposite door.

Suddenly the geometry clicked and Jean realized her quarters adjoined his. She laughed in instant relief at being delivered from Tirax. Seeing his questioning look, she explained, “I was afraid you had put me next to Tirax. Aernath said it would serve me right for being so suspicious.”

“Yes, both Aernath and Tirax have reported your … um … antipathy.” He smiled. “It’s a pity. He is one of my top lieutenants. Do you realize what a formidable enemy you have made?”

“It’s his choice not mine. I bear no enmity toward anyone unless they mean to destroy the Federation.” She stared pointedly at Kang.

The Klingon nodded. “Tirax feels the Federation is soft and can be easily defeated. I do not share that view but it is important that I hear it—that Tirax sit on my council. It has not interfered with his loyalty to me nor my ability to meet situations flexibly. Can you live with that?”

Jean returned his gaze. “It looks as though I’ll have to. But you know my feelings on the matter.”

He sighed. “I wonder …” He stowed his gun and brought out a bottle and a small wine glass which he set on the table.

“Speaking of my feelings: the work has gone well. It promises to be a success. You once said that if we succeeded I could name my price. I’d like to name it now.”

He glanced up from filling the glass. “What is offered is not enough?” He seemed suprised.

A gilded cage … thought Jean tiredly. “No.”

“Very well. Name your price.”

“Release me. I want my freedom.”

He smiled again. “Appropriate. Consider it done.” He took the wine glass and solemnly spilled a single drop before the image in the niche. Facing her he asked, “Will you share my cup?” She nodded. He raised it in formal salute. “For survival and success—yours and mine.” He took a sip and handed the glass to her.

Intent on his long awaited promise, she took the glass and repeated the toast, “For survival and success—yours and mine.” As he seemed to expect it, she drained the glass and handed it back to him. He set it carefully before the image, then turned back to her. “Will you arrange to return me to the Federation after the tour on Klairos?”

Again he looked surprised. “Return you after Klairos? That would be decidedly premature. For one, you know entirely too much to be released soon to say nothing of other considerations …”

“Well, if not then …” then when?” Jean demanded in dismay. The icy “if” plunged full across the threshold.

“In good time, my dear, in good time. But as for now …” She suddenly found herself in Kang’s grip. It happened when she least expected it. Fearing that ultimate tribute exacted of women by triumphant adversaries from time unrecorded, she struggled desperately, but he held her as easily as an Aldebaranian jequard holds her kit. He pulled her to him forcing her lips against his. That same cold fury with which she twice had fronted Tirax rose again. Wrenching her lips free she hissed, “Let go of me! Don’t touch me.” To her peripheral astonishment he released her. Trembling with fury, she faced him. “All right. You’ve got your pawn and symbol! I’m powerless to do anything about that. But so help me, if you try to lay a hand on me I’ll kill myself and take you along in the process if I can!”

Kang seemed stunned for an instant, then his face contorted with anger. His voice was low and menacing. “Get out of here before I save you the trouble of killing yourself. Get out!” With the last words he seized the wine glass and hurled it at her. She fled to the sound of shattering glass; through to her room, out her door, and down empty corridors to the lab. There she locked the door and proceeded to barricade it with miscellaneous moveable lab equipment.

Alone with the icy conviction that she now had no hope of seeing Federation territory again, she waited for the inevitable assault on the door. Methodically she went through the lab collecting her seed. It made a considerable pile. As she worked she attempted to marshal her thoughts. Damn! She’d been such a fool to think one could trust a Klingon. Obviously Kang had never had any intention of releasing her. But Aernath was the worst. Sometimes he seemed so human that she’d let herself be persuaded by his apparent conviction and had relaxed her vigilance. No more. She paused with her hand on the handle of the disintegrator chute.

Stick-limbed children with pinched faces marched in front of her eyes. She brushed her hand angrily across her forehead as if this would physically dispel them. She would not let that hold her hostage any more. She tried to banish it with images of home, her friends, Starfleet, the Enterprise. That was where her loyalty lay. What she got was an image of the Enterprise officers as she had last seen them from Kang’s bridge. Strangely it didn’t help. That vague unease she had felt at Captain Kirk’s last words returned again. Something she felt she ought to remember but it just eluded her grasp … something Spock had said … ‘there are always choices’? … no, something else … ‘considerable latitude’? … it wouldn’t come …

She smiled bitterly to herself. What choices would the Vulcan find in her situation now? She saw precious few. Dump the seed in the disintegrator and try to destroy as much else as she could before she was stopped. Or … wait. She waited.

She must have fallen asleep. Noises at the door awakened her. It must be Aernath; no one else could unlock it from outside if she had locked it properly. Slipping out her dagger she waited by the disintegrator as the door slid open. She heard his angry muttering as he pushed through the tangle of equipment she had piled in front. Then he caught sight of her. “Jean! What in the name of space is going on here?”

So they sent you, did they? What do they think you’re going to do—talk to me again, ‘explain’ everything? More lies, more promises? Or are you just a diversion while they break in from another direction?”

“Jean! What are you talking about? What happened? They, who?” He closed the door and started toward her but stopped at her gesture of the dagger. “Put that thing away and tell me what’s happened. There’s no one here but me.” His perplexity seemed genuine.

“Klingons!” The word was bitter in her mouth. “You’re the worst. You convinced me I could trust at least some of you. Including your generous, diplomatic commander! Ha! Kang tried to rape me.”

“What!” Disbelief and confusion were mingled on his face. Then he demanded, “What do you mean ‘tried’?”

“I told him to let me go. That I’d kill myself if he tried to lay a hand on me.”

“I don’t believe it. The commander has no reason to do that, and besides, if he intended to, he would have done it—not ‘tried.’”

“I don’t give a tinker’s dam what you think. I know what happened and all I …”

He interrupted her. “Jean, where did you get that dress?”

She looked at the dress with distaste. “Kang sent it to my room along with the invitation to dinner last night.”

“And where is your room—exactly?”

“It adjoins his quarters. Why?”

“Mara’s room.” Aernath let out a long breath. He skirted her, carefully positioned his plant, and sat down. “I think you’d better start at the beginning and tell me precisely what happened last night.”

Something in his tone and manner sobered her. In spite of her suspicions, she found she wanted to talk to him—needed to discuss it with someone. Setting aside her anger she tried to give a calm account of the previous evening. Several times he interrupted her, probing for details, words. He grew increasingly agitated. As she recounted her final defiance of Kang, he jumped up and seized her by the shoulders. “You fool! Don’t you see what you’ve done?”

“What I’ve done! Well I like that! Dammit. It was Kang who attacked me—not the other way around.”

He shook her. “He let you go! A lesser man would have killed you on the spot. I would have.” Alarmed, Jean raised her dagger. He brushed it aside. “Oh, forget it. I’m not going to do anything.” He let go of her and began to pace nervously. “But why? And why now? I can’t see what he expects to accomplish … There’s Tirax of course. And Mara will be … By Cymele! I wish I knew more about how things stand on Peneli.” He seemed to have forgotten Jean entirely.

“If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind giving me your version of what in space is going on? Or are you still thinking up a plausible story?” she inquired acidly.

He turned angrily. “Idiot! … No, you really don’t understand, do you?” He paused, searching his memory. “I’m sure I told you about Durgath and the … no, we were interrupted. What you’ve just described is the consort-rite. Oh, admittedly the simple military version but it’s adequate and binding. You went right through it—accepted his cup and then …” He gestured expressively, obviously still angry with her.

“Marriage! Don’t be ridiculous! Obviously I didn’t know what he was doing. How could you … anyone … possibly think I—”

“Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. Blast it. Jean will you try for just one minute to think like a Klingon? Kang’s an Imperial Fleet commander and someday emperor. He offers you consort-right. You seem to accept it and then reject him. What do you expect?”

She did try. “Oh …” Then she protested, “But he’s still married to Mara. You told me that yourself.”

“That doesn’t matter either. He can have six if he wants them. But a human?” Aernath seemed more preoccupied with Kang’s motives than Jean’s predicament. “What we do next depends so much on what he’s planning.”

“We?” Jean squeaked. “What makes you think I’m going to do anything you say? I don’t even know if you’re telling me the truth. Maybe this is just another elaborate Klingon ruse. How do I know I can trust you?”

He gave her a peculiar look. “You don’t,” he said flatly. “If you persist in believing that we are all scoundrels with no sense of honor then there’s no basis for trust. Where does that leave you?” When Jean made no reply he continued in a softer tone. “On the other hand, if you are willing to grant us our own kind of integrity, then … I am still … bond to you. I didn’t manage to keep you out of this particular dilemma, but will try to help.”

Jean sat down wearily. “I don’t know what to think, Aernath. I want to believe you but …”

As she moved, Aernath caught sight of the grain sitting on the disintegrator hopper. “Jean! The grain—what in space did you think you were doing?”

She watched as he hastily removed it from danger. “I was going to destroy it, of course, and anything else I could before I was stopped.”

He regarded her narrowly. “But you didn’t. Why?”

“I … I couldn’t. She felt a little ludicrous trying to explain it. “A friend of mine is fond of saying there are always choices. I guess I was trying to figure out if I had any other choices.”

“You do have a couple—if you want to take the risks.” He looked at her curiously. “Tell me, if you had understood Kang’s offer, what would you have done?”

Jean pondered the hypothetical question a moment. “I’d still have asked to be sent home, but … I guess I’d want to know why he made the offer.”

“I doubt he would have told you. Would you have accepted?”

She answered slowly, “I don’t know. My feelings are so muddled by now because of what did happen. I can’t say.”

“All right. Suppose he were willing to give you another chance. Could you accept it now?”

“Give me another chance!” Jean bridled.

“Dammit, Jean, don’t be so touchy! Okay, okay. Let me rephrase it. If Kang is willing to overlook the misunderstanding, can you?”

“Look, if he can do it he can undo it, too, cant he?” she parried.

“Dissolution? That’s another possibility but I think that’s even more risky. That would mean he would have to abandon whatever plans he has in mind. Kang doesn’t take kindly to being thwarted.”

“I don’t take kindly to being treated like a piece of chattel. Pretty wretched set of choices, if you ask me.”

“Do you have any other suggestions?” he asked curtly.

“No.” She realized he was waiting for her decision. Could she accept Kang’s offer? If she had understood the situation yesterday, had had time to think it over—possibly. But now … she shook her head. “I … I can’t.”

He nodded. “I thought you’d say that.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Wait for Kang to make the next move. But, by Cymele’s cloak, stay out of his sight! If you’re not prepared to apologize and ask for clemency, don’t let him set eyes on you. It could be fatal.”

“And if I were, what then?”

Carefully Aernath outlined the procedure for her. “He still might kill you. Who knows? But there’s a good chance he wouldn’t.”

“Hobson’s choice. It’s his move either way. I’ll stay out of sight.”

They tried to maintain the semblance of a normal day’s work but Jean was jumpy as a cat. She accomplished very little and finally gave it up. A cold shower, a light supper, and bed were in order she decided as she entered her quarters.

She set the shower dial, pushed it and turned for the soap. The stream of water that hit her back was scalding hot. Screaming in agony she reached through the spray to pull the dial off, then fumbled for the door. Suddenly it was yanked open and she collapsed in a pink haze of pain. Kang scooped her up and dumped her on his bed. “Imbeciles installed the hookup backwards. I should have had maintenance fix it long ago. Here, lie still.” From his first aid kit he produced a small cylinder. It hissed softly as he sprayed her neck, shoulder, back and arm in rapid succession. He leaned over and pushed the intercom button. “Kang. Eknaar to my quarters immediately. Out.” With one finger he touched her shoulder experimentally. “Still hurt?”

She grimaced. “It’s a little better, I think, except my face.”

He sprayed some foam into his hand. “Shut your eyes.” Deftly he applied the medication with gentle strokes from forehead to earlobe. He paused, then disappeared and returned with her bath towel which he draped over her.

Eknaar arrived and took in the scene. “What happened?”

“Blasted shower is hooked up in reverse. She scalded herself.” He watched as Eknaar completed a swift evaluation. “Well?”

“Not too serious. First degree most of it. May blister a bit on the shoulder here but getting the spray on it right away will minimize that. She’ll be all right.”

Kang seemed visibly relieved. “Fine. Then get her out of here.” He left abruptly.

Eknaar looked up quizzically. “Funny. It’s not like him to get queasy over a little burn.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” said Jean faintly. “He’s mad at me.”

Eknaar snorted. “Nonsense. He’s upset all right, but that’s not the way he acts when he’s angry. Come on, let’s sit you up.” He got her into her own room, gave her a sedative, and promised to see her in the morning. She was groggily perplexed when he wakened her in the middle of the night. After another injection she promptly went back to sleep, and did not notice that the Klingon medic exited into Kang’s room rather than the corridor.

She was feeling much better when Eknaar and her breakfast tray arrived simultaneously the next morning. “Good morning. I wasn’t sure I’d see you this morning after that late night visit.”

The doctor made a facee. “Not my idea assure you. Orders! If you were that bad, I’d have put you in sick bay. How do you feel this morning?”

“Stiff and sore, that’s all.”

“Of course. Let’s see the shoulder … couple of small blisters, not as bad as I thought. Spray really did the trick.” After another application of spray and a plastiderm dressing over the blisters he admonished, “Stay in bed for the day. Leave the dressing until it comes off by itself. And stay away from hot showers.”

She did. From the sounds next door she gathered that the shower was being fixed. By evening she was feeling nearly normal and somewhat restless. When Aernath arrived with dinner for two she was geniunely delighted. “Just following orders, ma’am.” He mimicked her voice: “Don’t ever go a day without checking with me as long as I’m stuck in this damned Klingon Empire. How are things in the DKE today?”

“Aernath, I think you’d joke at your grandmother’s funeral. But thanks for coming. Sit down and let’s eat.”

“I hear Kang dragged you out of the shower and has been badgering the daylights out of Eknaar ever since. Is that true?”

“More or less,” she admitted. “Tell me, Aernath, would you say he’s made his move? Eknaar doesn’t know the story, of course, but he swears Kang is more upset than angry.”

“It’s possible. You were there. What do you think?”

Well, if he intended to do me in that would have been a good opportunity.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“Make the next move.”

He gave her an odd look. “Are you really sure you want to do that? Don’t try it unless you’re sure.

She responded soberly, “It isn’t really a question of what I want when it comes right down to it, is it?”

“Probably not. All right—can you do it?”

“I think so.” She had no intention of telling him how she planned to do it.

It had been a long thirty hours. She intercepted and dismissed the crewman at the council room door, adding her dish to the rest on the servocart. According to Aernath, custom dictated she prepare it herself and she had raided his fruit collection to do it. Kang’s back was turned as she entered. He gave a start of surprise when he saw her. “I didn’t send for you. Who let you in here?”

Eyes appropriately lowered, she offered the bowl. “Will you take some fruit, Milord?” She held her breath through the interminable pause that followed.

Finally Kang reached out and took a single pomfrit. “I will hear you.

Jean took a deep breath and launched on her own course. “I do not intend to apologize. I have nothing to apologize for. But I do have an explanation. I was ignorant of your ritual. I took it for an older and more primitive one, and it was that I rejected.” She met his gaze steadily. “I had no desire to insult you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do you understand what you are doing now?”

“This time I do.”

His eyes held a glint of grim amusement. “But still you will do it your own way, won’t you? Why?”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “Because I think you already realize what happened and if it wasn’t for your damned Klingon pride you’d have apologized to me!”

He chuckled as he took her upturned chin in one hand. “Still coming, aren’t you? If the truth be known I think you nearly match me when it comes to pride. Can you match me in other things as well?”

“I think so,” she replied evenly.

“We shall see.” His other arm encircled her and pulled her to him. She felt his mouth again, hard and demanding on hers. His hand moved across her left breast and paused below it. Abruptly he pulled her head back searching her face carefully. “You’re still afraid. You’ve chosen this as the best of bad choices, haven’t you?” Jean kept her eyes fixed on his belt buckle scant centimeters away from the bottom of her ribcage. Kang’s left hand moved slightly but insistently at the nape of her neck. “Look at me.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “You’re right to fear me. Given my position you can’t escape being a pawn. If I’m forced to it, you’re expendable.” A vein in his temple throbbed and his jaw tightened. “Mara understood this and she took the risk with me until your Kirk seduced her with his hypocritical human sentimentality!” The bitterness lingered in his eyes a moment as he returned to the present. “But I want more from you than fear. By giving you consort-right I have placed my political as well as my personal power around you. That’s a formidable barrier. It’s also as much freedom as I can give you at the moment.”

His dark eyes watched her somberly; around her, his hands waited. She regarded the belt buckle in front of her ribcage for a long moment. Then raising a finger to Kang’s cheek, she asked gently, “Is that how a Klingon commander says ‘I love you’?”

His face softened in a brief smile. “Human sentimentality! My dear, I have just handed you a far more dangerous weapon than my knife. Use it very carefully or you may destroy us both.”

“That,” she responded warmly, “I have no desire to do.” She pulled Kang’s mouth down to her own. It was hungry but gentle to her now. Her belly shifted softly against the belt buckle. Arguments, she decided, could wait.

Much later, Jean lay and watched the blue green flicker of her aquarium light ripple across their skin. “Why did you offer me your cup?”

With one finger, Kang idly traced circles on her shoulder. “You don’t believe it was for mere sentiment?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“There were several reasons, of course. Let me see if I can find one you will believe. Maybe … because of my bet with Tirax?”

Jean tensed. “Bet with Tirax?”

“He was with me when we found you on Sherman’s planet. When we decided you would have to open the vault for us his comment was ‘no problem, she’ll break easily.’ I wagered you wouldn’t. I was right. You bend like a Blinghat rapier but never quite snap—just spring back unexpectedly.” He smiled. “I won. But I didn’t wager I’d nearly lose my lieutenant in the process.”

“I can’t honestly say that I’m thrilled with his survival; or that reason,” she responded drily.

His hand moved to the angle of her jaw. With his thumb he traced the outline of her mouth. “You may not like it. But you believe it, don’t you? Try this one: because you stand outside the Empire. And, I know where you stand. There is no one that can be held hostage for you—be used against me.”

That gave Jean pause for a moment. After some reflection she said with some reluctance, “I do have a brother.”

“My dear, you can have a planetful of relatives in the Federation. That doesn’t worry me a bit.”

“No,” she corrected, “I was referring to Aerath.”

His hand tightened fractionally on her chin. “I see. I shall remember that.” Then he asked carefully. “Is there any other in the Empire who could be?”

She understood his question and answered it honestly. “No. Besides, if there ever were another, I think he’s the sort who would never let himself be held so.”

“There are some luxuries even the emperor cannot command,” he acknowledged.

Turning her head slightly in the cradle of his elbow she fingered the new scar on his arm. “Does that ever bother you?”

“On the contrary, it’s a valuable reminder.” To her cocked eyebrow he explained, “Whenever my advisors wax enthusiastic about attacking the Federation it will be there as one more reminder that although you humans appear soft you have sharp teeth.”

Jean sighed. “I don’t suppose there is any hope of convincing you that we are not so predatory as that. Remember, too, that I tried to avoid it. It doesn’t have to stop with an uneasy truce enforced by the Organians. We could pool our efforts, help each other. If you would just trust us—?

Kang snorted. “Trust? You suggest I trust the likes of Kirk? Do you trust Tirax? Or me, for that matter? Don’t lecture me about trust!”

She made a wry face. “Touche. But it has to start somewhere. And we haven’t attacked you or invaded your territory.”

“Elementary strategy. Any commander worth his ship wouldn’t attack without reconnoitering, assessing the enemy’s strength. No, Starfleet is just waiting for the right opening, a weak spot—”

“Like the Tseni virus blight?”

Precisely. Which is one of the reasons I can’t allow you to return to the Federation until the crisis is over. In the meantime, it is instructive to me to have you here.”

“And after the crisis?”

“You have my word. Trust me?”

She acknowledged the irony. “It’s not easy, I know. But I do trust Aernath—most of the time—and he’s convinced you’ll keep your word. I guess that’s where I start.”

Casually Kang ran a fingertip down from throat to navel recalling to Jean the course of his dagger. Her involuntary shiver caught his attention. He brushed it aside with a faint smile. “And one might say I start with you … but you humans … I wonder—”

“Humans aren’t all cut from the same mold—no more than Klingons. But I think I’m a fair representative of what you would have to deal with.”

“I said it was instructive to have you here,” Kang replied drily.

Instructive for me, too, thought Jean ruefully, though I don’t have the option to drop the course. Then again, perhaps Kang doesn’t either. She wondered how much insight she really had gained into his motives and plans. “Why did you let me go the other night?”

He shrugged. “I could have taken you by force anytime, if that’s what I’d wanted. But I told yot I wanted more from you than fear.”

“And that is?”

“Aetheln,” he said softly.

“What?”

“It doesn’t translate directly. I’m not sure I could explain it to you. Anyway, it means I wanted you to come to me of your own choice.”

She took a shot in the dark. “Because of Mara?”

His laugh was short and bitter. “Actually your captain gave me that idea: ‘Your people were well-treated on my ship. I expect the same for Czerny. I will hold you personally responsible for her.’” His pain was almost palpable. Gently Jean reached out to touch him. His eyes searched her face carefully. “But it’s not the same for you, is it?”

“I don’t know,” she replied slowly. “Perhaps in a way it is. I’m still loyal to my Federation. Where does Mara stand?”

“Against her own empire,” he said grimly. Then he added musingly, “But she said a peculiar thing before she left: ‘You already have the strength but you won’t see it until you use it.’” He looked at her curiously. “Why did you come back this evening?”

She thought a moment. “Best of bad choices,” she admitted. “Possibly more. Tell me, if you were to become convinced that the Federation was not out to destroy you, would you be willing to negotiate cooperation?”

“That’s a very large ‘if’ my dear, but yes, if I were convinced, I would.”

She grinned up at him impishly. “All right. Match me.”

Kang stared at her for a moment, then roared with laughter. “You do play for high stakes, don’t you?”

The highest, Jean thought. Then he pulled her to him exchanging one mode of communication for another.