Star Trek: That Which Divides (11 page)

Frowning, Boma replied, “We were pretty beat up after passing through the rift. After we assumed orbit above Gralafi, we started a sensor scan of the planetoid, looking for something to support our theory that the energy field was artificially generated. I think we made somebody or something mad, because we were hit by some kind of tractor beam.” He paused, recalling the
Huang Zhong
’s final moments. “It dragged us down from orbit. We managed to disable it with photon torpedoes, but by then it was too late.”

Spock nodded at the report as Arex asked, “Do you have the coordinates for the source of the tractor beam, Lieutenant?”

“I don’t,” Boma answered, “but you can probably still scan for residual energy from the torpedoes. That should lead us right to it.”

“Then that is where we shall begin,” Spock said.

Still standing next to him, Shin asked, “Is there something we can do to be of assistance, Commander?”

“I do not believe that will be necessary,” the Vulcan replied. “We will be able to use the sensors aboard the
Columbus
. However, your continued help at the
Huang Zhong
crash site would be appreciated.”

The Dolysian leader nodded. “We are at your service.”

Boma said, “Be careful when you fire up your sensors, Mister Spock. There’s no telling what kind of response you might get.”

“A practical observation, Mister Boma.” To Arex, he said, “Lieutenant, it seems we will have no further need for your shuttlecraft. Once Doctor McCoy has determined the extent of Master Chief Petty Officer Rideout’s continued medical treatment, you will return with the
Einstein
to the
Enterprise
and notify Mister Scott that salvage operations for the
Huang Zhong
can commence immediately.” Then, he turned back to Boma. “Lieutenant, are you available to accompany us?”

Caught off guard by the request, Boma almost tripped over his own mouth in his attempt to answer. He had assumed Spock would prefer to leave him behind for eventual transfer back to the
Enterprise
. Sensing an opportunity, he replied, “Absolutely, sir.” He then held up his injured arm. “That is, if you think a one-armed science officer is any good to you.”

His expression never once wavering, Spock said, “In the event Doctor McCoy is unable to treat your injury, I am certain that Mister Arex is prepared to compensate, at least until he departs for his return to the
Enterprise
.” Saying nothing else, he nodded to Shin. “If you will excuse me, madam, there are some necessary preparations to accomplish prior to our departure.”

Boma remained silent as the Vulcan and Arex left, still processing what he had just heard. “Was that supposed to be a joke? From Spock?”

“The nuances of your language continue to elude me, Samuel,” Shin said. “Is the commander a frequent employer of humor?”

“Not usually, no,” Boma said, sighing as he watched Spock’s retreating figure. “Something tells me this is going to be one very odd couple of days.”

“I’ll say this for the Dolysians,” remarked Ambassador Dana Sortino, her voice echoing across the vast chamber despite its lowered volume. “They’ve got style.”

Kirk could only nod in agreement as he beheld the spacious, circular room that served as the rotunda for the headquarters of the Unified Leadership Council. The gallery, though simple in construction, harbored what to Kirk’s eyes appeared to be a loving balance between form and function. The walls were constructed of stones cut in rectangular shapes of approximately two meters in length and height, their surfaces encrusted with all manner of minerals and other artifacts that played off the natural illumination provided by the chamber’s transparent, domed ceiling. As for the stones themselves, they were fitted together in a staggered pattern, and so closely that the seams offered no apparent gaps of even the smallest width. The patterns and reflections from their individual faces resulted in a wondrous display of color in response to the cascade of late morning sunlight. The effect was broken only by the eight entryways spaced at regular intervals around the room, some leading to passageways while others accessed stairwells constructed from the same stones. To Kirk, the chamber resembled a cathedral, though there were no outward displays of anything that might denote a deity or other
religious beliefs. Tapestries and other artwork adorned the walls, while sculptures of varying size and shape occupied niches carved into the walls or stood on pedestals around the room. As for the floor, it was created from a network of stones cut and fitted together in what looked to Kirk like a random placement, with each piece fitted into a light gray mortar that resembled an intricate spider’s web stretching across the expansive floor.

“When I was a boy,” Kirk said, regarding the floor’s stonework with an appreciative eye, “my uncle and my brother and I built a walking path that looked something like this. It took us most of the summer to lay it out so that it connected his house to the barn. I can’t imagine how long it took to put this together.”

Sortino replied, “About the same amount of time, though they had more people pitching in than you and your uncle probably did.”

Chuckling, Kirk nodded. “Definitely.” He smiled as he recalled the effort they had expended on the project during one summer vacation he had spent at his aunt and uncle’s farm in Idaho. Then there were the countless times he and his brother, Sam, had sprinted the length of that path, pretending it was the corridor of a mighty starship as they raced to head off the latest in an unending series of crises to spring from their fertile imaginations. Though Kirk could appreciate the craftsmanship required to create something so beautiful and durable, he lacked the necessary skill and passion to do something like it on his own. In contrast, his late brother had acquired their father’s natural gift for working and building with his own hands, as evidenced by the homes he had built for his family, from the ground up, on two different worlds, Earth and Deneva.

You would’ve loved this, Sam
.
I miss you, big brother
.

Someone walking toward him from his left made Kirk turn in that direction to see Lieutenant Uhura approaching, her expression one of frank admiration. “If you think the art they have in here is nice, you should see what’s in the anteroom leading to their council chamber,” she said as she drew closer, holding up her tricorder for emphasis. “It’s some of the most beautiful work I’ve ever seen.”

“The Dolysians have always held the arts in high esteem,” Sortino said, “but even more so in the past few generations. According to the first-contact reports I read, they’re enjoying something of a cultural renaissance that was already going strong, but seems to have gotten a boost in just the last year or so.”

Kirk said, “I suppose they have us to thank for that.”

“Yes, of course you’re right, Captain,” Sortino replied. “First contact with us definitely seems to have spurred on the Dolysians, and by all accounts that looks to be a positive development, despite the unusual nature by which the contact came about.” She paused, releasing a small sigh. “I just hope we’re not doing these people a disservice in the long run. Other cultures we’ve encountered that are on par with the Dolysians haven’t always reacted well to being ‘befriended’ by an advanced civilization.”

Kirk nodded, having seen in his extensive travels the sometimes disastrous results of good intentions when it came to contact with lesser-developed societies. “That’s why the Federation sends people like you, Ambassador,” he said, offering an encouraging smile. “To make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Anything Sortino might have said in reply was interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing from one of the
passageways leading into the chamber, and Kirk looked over to see a Dolysian male entering the rotunda. Like other males he had seen since their arrival, this one had no hair atop his smooth, pale-yellow skull, and his fair skin contrasted with the dark robes that concealed his body from neck to feet. The garment lacked ornamentation, with the single exception of a silver sash worn over his left shoulder, crossing his chest and falling to a point below his right hip. With his hands held together before him, he walked with a purposeful stride, covering the expanse of the chamber and reaching Kirk and his party in a handful of seconds.

“Ambassador Sortino,” he said, and Kirk got the impression that the Dolysian had only just learned the name’s proper pronunciation moments earlier, “my name is Phirol Jlen lu Brak, Chancellor Wiladra’s assistant, though it likely will be easier for you to refer to me as Jlen. The chancellor has asked me to convey her apologies for keeping you waiting. The council’s morning session took longer than expected to conclude.”

Sortino offered a small bow of her head. “No apologies are needed, Jlen,” she said, utilizing the custom—at least in the region of the planet from which the Dolysian hailed—of employing a shortened version of the formal given name. After introducing Kirk and Uhura, she added, “We are grateful that the chancellor is able to meet with us. I have no doubts that she and the rest of the council are very busy.”

“The council only meets once each season,” Jlen replied, “and it seems that the planners schedule every available waking moment. However, everyone is excited to meet with you.” He gestured toward the door through which he had entered the rotunda. “If you will follow me,
I will take you to the chancellor’s study. She has asked to meet with you in private before you are introduced to the rest of the council.”

Kirk asked, “Does the chancellor have some concerns about our presence here?”

“I would not call them concerns,” the Dolysian answered, then smiled. “Though she does have some questions, and she is simply exercising one of the few perquisites of her office.”

Smiling, Kirk said, “Well, we can’t blame a lady for that, now, can we?”

With Jlen leading the way, Kirk and Uhura followed Sortino from the chamber. The corridor leading out of the rotunda appeared to follow the same design aesthetic, though in this case natural light was provided by a series of narrow windows running along both sides of the passageway near the ceiling. For the first time, Kirk noted the presence of recessed light fixtures, though none of them were active at this hour.

“I’m amazed that so much light makes its way in here,” Kirk said, recalling what he had seen of the council building’s exterior while walking to it from the landing area where they had left their shuttlecraft. “I would think the angles of the building itself would mitigate it.”

Slowing his pace, Jlen turned so that he could talk to Kirk as they walked. “A series of reflectors mounted at key points along the outside surfaces assist in redirecting the sunlight. It’s a simple yet very efficient design, resulting in reduced energy usage throughout the council building.” He indicated the light patterns reflecting off the faces of various stones they passed. “I must also confess that I love the effect.”

“Absolutely,” Uhura replied. “It’s beautiful.” When Kirk cast an amused look in her direction, she shrugged. “Well, it beats the light show where I normally work.”

They approached a pair of large doors, each of them appearing to be cut from a single piece of wood that had been embellished with an intricate carving of what Kirk recognized from the shapes of land masses as an artistic rendering of Dolysia itself, centered inside a pair of intertwined ribbons. Like everything else he had seen since entering the mammoth council building, the doors looked to have been created and maintained with utmost care. When Jlen was within a few paces of the doors, they began to part, though Kirk detected no audible signs of an automated mechanism. Beyond the portal was a smaller passageway that lacked the luxurious appointments of the rotunda and the connecting corridor. Furnishings were tasteful without being lavish, and the captain got the impression that this was an outer office or visitor reception area. It was not, he decided, where impressions were made; it was where real work was accomplished.

“The chancellor’s study is this way,” Jlen said, crossing the anteroom toward another door, which did not open at his approach. Instead, the Dolysian stopped before the entrance, and Kirk looked up to see a sensor mounted above the door. A moment later there was an audible tone and the door slid aside to reveal another office. Jlen marched into the room and Ambassador Sortino followed him. Upon stepping through the doorway, Kirk gestured toward Uhura to stand with him near the entry, their vantage point offering them an unobstructed view of the office. A single, large span of curved glass or some other transparent material formed the room’s rear wall, providing a spectacular view
of a courtyard lawn and garden. Positioned before the window was a large desk consisting of a metal framework supporting a slab of dark, polished stone similar to granite or marble. Standing behind the desk was an older Dolysian female.

“Good morning, Chancellor,” Jlen said by way of greeting. “You asked me to bring our guests as soon as possible.” He indicated Sortino with a gesture. “Ambassador Dana Sortino of the United Federation of Planets, may I present Chancellor Wiladra Pejh en Kail, First Voice of the Unified Leadership Council.”

Her hands at her sides, Sortino bowed slightly at the waist. “Chancellor Wiladra, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet with you on this day.”

“The pleasure is mine, Ambassador,” Wiladra replied as she moved from her seat. Her shoulders were stooped, and her face was a darker shade of yellow than Jlen’s. When she placed her right hand on the edge of her desk to support herself as she moved, Kirk noted its minor trembling. Though obviously aged, she did not walk with the assistance of a cane or other support, and there was still a recognizable spark of intelligence and passion in her stark white eyes as she smiled in response to her visitors’ arrival. “I have been looking forward to this for quite some time.” After taking Sortino’s left hand in both of her own and holding it for a moment, she turned her attention to Kirk and his party. “You are the leader of the space vessel?”