The Badlands_ Book One Part 9

"Wild accusations," Kirk said.

"I think I know who did it," she said. "And if I have time, I can prove it. I will give that information to Starfleet in exchange for sanctuary in the Federation."

"You want to stay in the Federation?" Kirk asked in surprise. She had been so eloquent about the beauties of Romulus and the excitement of working in the Romulan territory compared to the staid Federation. "That's not what I expected from you."

"Do I have any choice?" she asked. "I was dragged into something much larger than I antic.i.p.ated. Obviously I cannot return to the Romulan Star Empire, not if there are rumors that I have acquired plasma-beam technology."

Kirk shook his head, running his hand across the back of his neck. For a moment, he felt dizzy. Then it pa.s.sed. "If what you say is true, I'm sure Starfleet would grant you asylum."

One brow lifted slightly in .surprise. "That easily? How can you be so sure?"

"It is ... who we are," Kirk told her. "I'll take you to Starbase 33. You should have no trouble dealing with the Federation."

Kirk realized something was wrong when it felt as if he was speaking from a great distance. His voice seemed disconnected from his body. He shifted his shoulders, feeling cramped, as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face.

He could tell that Commander Teral was not happy with his suggestion. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and the confiding, entreating look disappeared in a flash of irritation.

"I don't have the data!" she snapped. "Why not call off that guard and end this charade?"

Kirk reached out to steady himself against the table. Why was the room spinning?

Teral exclaimed out loud, startled when he went down to his knees. She reached out to help him, then stopped. With her face swimming in and out of his sight, Kirk could tell she was rapidly considering the situation.

He tried to speak but couldn't.

"Guard!" she called out, going over to hammer on the door. "Guard, help me! Your captain is hurt!"

The door slid open and the guard took in what was happening. Teral gestured toward Kirk, frantically pulling on the guard's sleeve to bring him closer. The guard knelt by the captain.

As the guard's face came closer, Kirk could see Teral behind him. "No ...," he whispered.

Teral s.n.a.t.c.hed the phaser from the guard's belt. He turned, shocked. But she stunned him before he could stop her. He fell forward, landing on Kirk.

Kirk fell back. When Teral aimed the phaser at him, he did the only thing he could dohe pa.s.sed out. At least he pretended to, but for a moment, he didn't remember anything.

When he opened his eyes, his legs were pinned beneath the guard. He still felt dizzy, but it wasn't quite so bad now. For a moment he was tempted to close his eyes again.

But every instinct fought against oblivion. His mission was to stop the smuggler and get the plasma-beam data. He had no intention of failing.

Clenching his teeth, Kirk rolled onto one elbow. The guard was dead weight on top of him. The exertion made him pant harder. Desperately he looked up at the comm panel near the door. If only he could get there, then he could send out an alert that Teral had escaped. Groaning, he pulled his right leg out from under the guard.

With one leg free, it was easier to sit up and roll the guard off him.

Getting to his feet was more difficult. Every step was agonizing. He almost doubled over from the pain in his gut. For a moment, he swayed, in agony between his pounding head and his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to lie back down next to the guard.

But he couldn't With an iron will, he clenched his teeth against the nausea and the spinning of his head. Mind would conquer body.

Step by step, he went to the comm panel. He hit the wall harder than he antic.i.p.ated, bracing himself against it with one shoulder. Pushing the comm b.u.t.ton, he said, "Alert! All decks, alert! Commander Teral has escaped. All hands ... be on the lookout for... a Romulan woman. She's armed."

He started to sink to the deck as Spock's voice returned, with an anxious edge. "Acknowledged. Captain, are you all right?"

"No. Send McCoy," Kirk said, his knees buckling. "Emergency...."

Teral was in the turbolift when Kirk's alert went out. She knew she should have stunned him, too. But he had looked like he was about to die from radiation poisoning, and she didn't want to risk killing him with a stun. She had discovered early in her career that you could get away with almost anything except murdering a star-ship captain.

The turbolift slowed. She twisted the handle harder, hoping that would keep it from stopping. But it slowed its downward motion, then stopped. It was deck 15.

Several technicians were waiting for the lift. They were carrying packs, and were obviously one of the repair teams that were trying to fix the damaged circuitry of the ship.

Teral burst through the gathering just as they realized who she was.

"Stop!" two of them yelled, running after her. She knew the other one would report her location.

Even with the scanners malfunctioning, it was only a matter of time before she was caught. Before Kirk alerted the crew there had been a possibility she could gain access to her cruiser and disable the forcefield on the hanger deck. Now the likelihood of capture was so high, she proceeded to implement her backup plan.

She was on the environmental level of the secondary hull. It was an easy matter of slipping into a room to hide as the two technicians hurried past, calling advice to one another. One peered into the lab where she was hiding, but she slid under the console where he couldn't see her.

Once they had pa.s.sed, Teral found the closest access tube leading down to the next deckengineering. Medical stations were also on this floor, and there were quite a few crew members milling about in the corridors. She could hear someone groaning nearby.

Teral didn't have time to think about the strange radiation sickness that had struck Kirk down right in front of her eyes. She had never been in such a tough situation before; then again, she had never transported such high-credit information before. She had thought long and hard before deciding it was worth the risk to sell the specs of the plasma-beam weapon.

Getting the information had happened almost by chance, though one of her informants had subsequently died at the hands of the Tal Shiar, the Romulan intelligence service, because of his involvement. Because of his slipup, Teral would have to arrange a new ident.i.ty and buy a new ship before going back to work. If she decided to continue working after this. With the credit she would receive at all Klingon supply depots, she would be set for the rest of her life.

She slipped into the narrow crawl s.p.a.ce between the banks of reactor coils, knowing that would help mask her lifesigns. She figured the ship's internal sensors were a low priority for the repair crews. But she wouldn't put anything past that Vulcan first officer, Mr. Spock. He might be able to find her.

Her plans were always nestled within plans, to make for smooth transitions. She was used to switching in midstream, and it was her ability to refrain from panic that had enabled her to get so far in her chosen profession. She was generally acknowledged to be very goodperhaps even the bestat smuggling information and goods.

That was because she knew how to become whatever people wanted her to be. She had talked Dr. McCoy into giving her the lightest possible bioscan, and even Mr. Spock had apparently not turned over her informant contacts to Starfleet. But that Captain Kirk... he should have trusted her. She had given him every reason to believe in her, and all the evidence was on her side. Yet he had stubbornly continued to post a guard at her door.

She had waited patiently to get free of her prison. Accessing information about the ship's blueprints and schematics had been easy using the specially adapted tricorder she had obtained from a contact in the Tal Shiar. That was how she knew the location of every exterior port on the ship.

The engineering deck she was now on had several exterior ports for easy disposal of hazardous waste. She edged through the banks of coils to reach the one she had targeted.

It was a simple unit with an automated lock. She keyed in the proper engineering code, also gleaned from her covert computer searches. The round hatch, approximately an arm's length across, opened with a hiss.

Glancing around to be sure no one could see her, she reached up to her hair. The knot was formed around a silver sphere. She hefted it in her hand. It hadn't been easy distracting the doctor while he performed his bioscan. Yet even a bioscan would have trouble identifying the stasis sphere as anything but a hair accessory, and it was specially designed not to trigger a weapons scan.

But a Federation detention center would spot the stasis sphere instantly. They would open it up and discover the specs for the plasma-beam weapon inside.

She a ctivated the subs.p.a.ce beacon, which would remain inert until signaled by the frequency she had coded in. Placing the sphere inside the exterior port, she closed the hatch. It cycled automatically. The stasis sphere was designed to act like a buoy, and it would float nearby forever, if necessary, waiting for her to come back and pick it up.

Now she had to get as far away from this spot as possible before she was captured. It was likely, with all the malfunctions occurring in the ship's systems, that the cycling of the exterior port would be overlooked.

She found the next access tube and slid down the ladder four decks. She picked up speed near deck 21, and had to jump off.

That should confuse Mister Spock for a few moments.

The recreation area was deserted, as all personnel had been called into repair teams and emergency duty a.s.sisting the injured. She ran through the large rooms filled with games and diversions, wondering how people who were so soft could have presented such a challenge to her skills. She had encountered Starfleet before, but she had never had such a problem dealing with them.

She took another access tube down when she heard voices. That brought her to the food prep facilities, where there were more people around. As soon as she could, she ducked through a storage room to another ladder. Back up on deck 20, she entered the shuttlecraft maintenance shops.

Now she was nearly under the hanger deck itself. There were several access ports and a hydraulic elevator leading up to the hanger. Undoubtedly there were security guards alerted and waiting up there for her.

She was torn between trying to get to the Barataria or giving up right now. If she could get to her cruiser, she could hide inside the plasma storms until both the Enterprise and the Tr'loth left. Then she could come back and pick up the sphere with the plasma beam data. She was sure she could make new arrangements with the Klingons to exchange the data.

Teral decided to try to get to the Barataria. Being stunned was an unpleasant experience, but if she didn't do everything in her power to get away, they might think it was suspicious and start interrogating her for real.

Just inside the maintenance shops were rows of helmets worn by the workers when they were welding with plasma torches. She grabbed the first one and jammed it on her head. It was small, but she was able to flip down the protective visor. Now, no one would be able to recognize her immediately as Romulan.

There weren't many crew members on the hanger deck. She slipped past a dismantled shuttle, noting that the entire impulse engine came out as one unit. That would be a handy way to transport an impulse engine, she thought, always on the lookout for a good product. She had a Ferengi contact who would pay quite a bit of latinum for an impulse engine.

At the rear of the maintenance shops, she found the hydraulic elevator shaft. Just as she suspected, there were hand-and footholds going up one side a maintenance ladder.

She carefully crawled up the ladder, hoping the hydraulic elevator wouldn't start up or down. Moving faster, she strained her eyes to see to the top. It was too dark to tell what she would have to deal with.

When she got to the top, she realized there was no access hatch on this level. The elevator was all the way up and locked into position. She could see a thin line of light from the shuttle hanger slanting down into the well of blackness. She could also hear voices, orders to prepare, and running feet.

She started to climb back down, knowing it had been a mistake going up the blind ladder.

Suddenly light shone up at her from below. "There she is!" someone called.

Teral climbed down faster, hoping they wouldn't try something stupid like moving the elevator.

A security guard grabbed her leg as she neared the maintenance doorway, almost making her fall down the rest of the elevator shaft "Let go!" she hissed. "I will come out."

The hand tightened. "Drop your phaser!"

All she could see was an arm and a hand grabbing her ankle. She was tempted to stun the guard just on principle, but they would surely stun her if she tried to fight.

"Here it is," she said, leaning over to toss it through the maintenance doorway. There was a shout and a scramble as the others went after it.

Once the hand let go, she was able to climb back through the maintenance door. Resolutely, she shut her mind off. She hated authority enforcerswhether they were Federation security guards or Romulan peacekeepers. She didn't respond to their questions or react when they pulled off the welding helmet, knowing the enforcers would be particularly unpleasant because she had stunned the guard in her quarters.

As they marched her through the maintenance shops, she ignored their little indignities, like their binding her wrists together in stasis cuffs. Instead, she occupied her mind with what she would do with the credit after she turned the plasma-beam specs over to the Klingons. There was a gorgeous planet in outer Hyperia she had stumbled on, and she had long wanted to return.

Her pleasant daydreams were interrupted by the appearance of Captain Kirk coming out of the turbolift. He looked quite ill, breathing heavily and sweating a great deal.

"You should lie down, Captain," Teral told him. "You look unwell."

Kirk stared at her, licking his dry lips. "I knew you couldn't be trusted."

Teral narrowed her eyes at him. "If you were in my position, Captain, you would have run, too. Klingons and Starfleet fighting, with me caught in the middle... not a good situation. Besides, you should thank me for not stunning you. In your condition, it could have killed you."

"I want her thoroughly scanned," Kirk ordered, turning away. "And put her in the brig."

Chapter Nine.

The security guards rushed Captain Kirk to sickbay, alerting Dr. McCoy that they were on their way. McCoy was angry at Kirk for ignoring his order to report immediately to sickbay. Instead, the captain had insisted on receiving a hypospray that would alleviate some of the symptoms of nausea and dizziness so he could go down to the shuttle bay to confront Commander Teral.

McCoy had protested and argued until Kirk ordered him to administer the hypospray. Knowing that the captain wouldn't be able to rest until he knew that Commander Teral was recaptured, McCoy had reluctantly complied.

When he saw Kirk being helped into sickbay by Security Chief Kelley, McCoy regretted having given in.

"Jim!" he exclaimed. "You look terrible. Put him there."

Kelley gingerly helped Kirk to the medical bed, trying not to offer too much support. Kirk motioned her away so he could sit down on the edge of the bed. McCoy ignored his protests and a.s.sisted in lifting his feet onto the bed.

The heart monitor immediately activated, indicating his heart rate was faster than normal. Kirk also had a fever, and his gastrointestinal tract was inflamed. Much of the skin on the upper half of his body was irritated, and many of the minor blood vessels showed injury.

McCoy grumbled as he worked, watching the damage manifest in front of his eyes. That's the way it was with radiation. Once the bone and tissues of a body were exposed, there was nothing that could be done to prevent the decay. Molecules had already been ionized, and now all the doctor could do was fight the symptoms as they manifested.

Kirk groaned, his arms clutching at his stomach. But he still tried to look around the sickbay, even as McCoy was stabilizing him.

"What happened, Bones?'

"Same thing as before," McCoy said sharply. "Gamma radiation coming out of nowhere, Spock tells me."

"Spock..." Kirk whispered.

"He's on the bridge, watching the Klingons. I wonder how they're doing? According to rumors I've heard, they just let their sick die."

Kirk managed a weak smile. "Glad we don't follow that philosophy."

McCoy silently agreed, having gone through the same pain of radiation exposure. He would hate to endure it without medication and cellular regeneration. Without the treatment, many of the injured on board the Enterprise would have been approaching death in the next few weeks.

The graph on the medical bed revealed the level of Kirk's exposure. It was at least 400 rads, which was the equivalent to the absorption of 40,000 ergs of energy per gram of tissue. A serious level of exposure, particularly for the bone marrow and lymphatic tissues. Without immediate treatment, such a dose would be lethal for some people.

"Doctor?" Nurse Chapel spoke quietly so as to not disturb the other patients who were flowing into sickbay. "Lieutenant Uhura has just arrived."

"That's two from the bridge," McCoy said. "Better convert the temporary wards again, Nurse. It looks like we've been hit by the same radiation as before."

Nurse Chapel hesitated as a lab technician helped Uhura to a bed across the ward. "What's causing it, Doctor?"

"Ask Spock," McCoy snapped. "He's the one who's supposed to be doing sensor sweeps."

Chapel turned away without another word, and McCoy immediately wished he hadn't said anything. He knew how Chapel felt about Spockwhy did he let it irritate him? She was a good nurse and a good a.s.sistant, and he knew she deserved better than to be the brunt of his bad temper.

McCoy turned away with a sigh and began examining an ensign from food prep. This was her second dose, much milder than the first moderate one she had suffered through. McCoy shivered at the thought of being affected again by the radiation. It had been tough when his health was good. Right now, with his immune and lymphatic systems depleted as they were, he wouldn't get out of bed for a week. But no use wonderinghe would know soon enough.

Reminded of the danger of repeat exposures, McCoy asked Nurse Chapel to go check on the patients who were still confined to bed r est. She would need to scan them to see if anyone had received a second dose.

When Kirk's medical bed signaled the end of the bone-marrow infusion, McCoy returned to Kirk's side to check on him. The captain's eyes were open, and he was trying to speak.