The Tears of the Slnprs
something to protect me?" She knew she was being unreasonable and, disgusted
by her own weakness, she pushed herself to her feet. Unable to relax, she
flitted agitatedly about the room, dusting the already spotless dresser,
straightening Koes collection of antique weapons that hung on one wall,
smoothing the coverlet on the bed.
As she gazed down at the bed that she shared with her husband she found
that her mindless activity had not managed to banish her fears and worry.
She had only been back aboard Klothos for a scant thirty minutes, and
already she had the temper of the officers and crew. It wasn't good. Mutiny
hung like a miasma in the air and drifted through the halls, carried by the
mutterings of disgruntled men.
Instead of being here, aboard his ship where he belonged, Kor was lingering
among the humans, doing what the gods alone knew. Adding fuel to the
already prevalent attitude that he is a lover of Earthers, she concluded
sourly, staring down at the bed.
Working with the humans had made sense to her when they had first been
faced with the phenomenon, but now she wondered if Kor wasn' t carrying
things a bit too far. In the beginning he had intimated that they would
deal with the Enterprise once the space/time rip was successfully resolved,
but she had begun to have doubts about his sincerity in that direction. She
had known Kor for two years before she had finally convinced him to marry
her, and during that time she had heard a great deal about Captain James
Kirk of the starship Enterprise. He had a great deal of admiration for the
man, and had always regretted that the Organians had interfered before they
could test their strength against one another.
She wished she had not thought of the debacle on Organia, for it raised a
fear that she had not even discussed with Kor. After the Organians had
dispersed the Klingon and Federation fleets without allowing a battle, and
forced a treaty upon the two warring powers, the Empire began to search for
a 1S2
The TOWS of the Shwrs
scapegoat to bear the blame. it didn't have to look very far, and the full
fury of the thwarted ruling party fell upon Kor. He had been severely
punished, and indeed had lost everything he had fought to gain in a long and
distinguished military career. In fact, when she had met him he had been a
mere lieutenant teaching tactics at the military academy outside of the
capital, stripped of all rank and honors, and more importantly, mourning the
loss of his beloved ship.
She had stood beside him, falling ever more deeply in love with this
brilliant, ironic man, while he struggled to regain his position. Finally
a shift in the political climate had returned him to his ship and his
command. When he once again felt he had something to offer her he had
proposed, and she had gladly accepted. Now it seemed he was ready to throw
away everything they had fought so hard to regain.
She sank slowly down onto the bed, and forced herself to face the fear that
had been torturing her for months. Was Kor still loyal to the Empire? And
if not, what should she do? Duty dictated that if she suspected such
disloyalty she should immediately report her suspicions to Imperial
Command. But Kor was her husband, the mate she had chosen for life, and
yes, as trite as it sounded, the love of her fife. What was duty when
compared to the love that she felt for this man?
She was appalled at her own thoughts, and she rose and took a quick turn
about the room. She was a Klingon. Surely the Empire that had raised her,
educated her, given her a career, deserved her service and her loyalty. She
thought of the unwarranted and unfair treatment Kor had received at the
hands of the Empire, and her lips tightened into a rebellious line. They
had had no right to treat Kor like that. No commander could have done more
against the awesome might of the Organians.
And they've lied, she thought suddenly, beginning to warm to the logical
construct that she was beginning to form. They said that the humans were
cruel and barbaric. That their only response to a Klingon was death or the
camps.
1S3
The Tears of the Singers
"And it's not true," she said aloud. Dunng the time she had spent with the
and Kfingons, very much alike. Oh granted, the humans were weak and overly
sentimental, but they were by no means despicable. One could begin to like
them with some exposure.
She turned and stared at the door, her jaw tightening into a militant line
as she considered Karsul, and her probable fate if he led a successful
mutiny against her husband. B y Klingon law she was booty, spoils to the
victor. If Karsul succeeded in his bid for power she would be expected to
go meekly to his bed. Her hand reached out and snagged a bottle of perfume
from the dresser. She sent the glass vial crashing against the door.
"Never," she whispered hoarsely, watching the amber liquid flow down the
door and fill the room with the sweet scent of deenaela blossoms. "I will
never submit myself to that man!" If this was what Klinzhai expected from
its women then she refused! She would stand by Kor whatever action he might
take.
"What is it with you?" Guy asked softly as he hunkered down in the sand to
pet his Thygetian shadow.
There was a dull ache that seemed to have settled behind his eyes, and he
felt faintly sick, but he was unwilling to return to camp to face Spock's
impatient and questioning glances, and what he felt was mute reproach from
the other members of the landing party. He had felt so cocky a few days
ago. The answer seemed just around the comer, but that comer had been
followed by another and still another until he felt as if he was in some
bizarre musical maze. And out in space the phenomenon grew and advanced,
devouring yet another segment of Thygetian space, and drawing ever closer
to the system's sun.
The Thygetian trilled gently and nudged his hand with its muzzle. "Why
don't you respond to me?" Maslin continued.
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The Tears of the Singers
61t's so important that I understand you, yet nothing I do seems to reach
you. I know I'm not that stupid. My machine and I have pretty well figured
out the rudiments of your language. We've removed the hunters that were
hurting your parents. So why won't you respond?"
IMe Thygetian youngster seemed to sense his mood, and it hooted mournfully
up at him. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad since you've been such a
good and constant friend to me. In fact, you're not even the worst. Your
parents are the really impossible ones. You at least have the courtesy to
listen while the synthesizer and I hoot, and tweet, and hum and triff at
you. But your elders . . ." The composer made a hopeless gesture in the
air. "They don't even know I exist. What can possibly be so important that
they don't even acknowledge the presence of alien invaders on their world?"
he adde
d almost to himself. He had stopped his steady stroking, and the cub
sang a fretful and complaining little passage, then took the human's hand
in his mouth, and gave it a gentle shake.
Guy resumed his steady stroking through the silken fur, and the cub gave a
sigh of contentment and closed its eyes. Guy smiled with wry amusement at
the blissful youngster.
"LAttle hedonist. Don't you realize you're in dreadful danger?" The cub
opened one eye and peered up at him, then dropped back into its
semisonmolent state. "Apparently not, and apparently you don't give a damn
either. Just so long as there's someone around to pet and pamper you the
rest of the universe can go to hell. Actually, you sound a lot like me,"
Guy said, and the thought struck him as so amusing that he gave a short
bark of laughter. Short, because the laugh triggered a violent coughing
spasm that left him weak and breathless.
He lay back on the sand, trying to catch his breath, while the cub pushed
itself up on its front flippers, and stared worriedly down into his white
face. Maslin started to rise, then fell back exhausted onto the beach. His
arms seemed to
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The Tears of the Sh*ers
have lost all strength. The Thygetian had begun to chirp, and flop in
agitated circles about the prone human. Suddenly it broke into a complicated
song, and began haring up the beach.
"Hey!" Mashn shouted, struggling up onto one elbow. "Where are you going?
Don't leave me," he cried after the rapidly retreating cub, but the
creature paid no attention. He fell back on the sand, and fear gripped him.
Never in all the years of living with the disease had he felt this
horrible. Pain gnawed at his chest and stomach, and seemed to send burning
tendrils coiling along the nerve endings into his legs and arms.
He reached into a pocket, searching for his pills, and realized that he had
left them back in the tent. He thought with longing of the camp. Suddenly
it seemed far more comfortable and attractive than any resort planet he had
ever visited, and just as distant. He had walked for miles trying to outrun
his depression and frustration, and no one knew where he was. He closed his
eyes, and tried to ignore the pain.
"Uhura," he whispered softly. - "Oh God, I need you." After a time he
slipped into a fevered sleep in which he seemed to be dancing on a tide of
golden music. Uhura was in his arms, and they went spinning and whirling
like chips in a stream. A golden light was all around them, and they were
one with the music. It swept them past stars and planets and great glowing
dust clouds, where fife was beginning. He reached out and captured some of
the precious substance. It spilled from his hand like diamond dust, and he
quickly raised his hand so it fell gently onto Uhura's black hair. The
particles sparkled and flared like miniature stars against the veil of her
hair, and she seemed crowned by an incandescent aura.
"Quick, " he said to her. "Do the same for me. This is the stuff of life.
We can live forever."
But faceless, uniformed figures suddenly appeared and, taking her by the
arms, pulled her slowly, inexorably away 156
The Tears of the Singers
into the blackness of space. He cried out to her, and tried to follow, but
the music swelled and crashed about him, and swept him away.
"Nol" He jerked upright, his head throbbing with pain, and reached out,
trying to capture her and bring her back. His flailing hands were caught
and held irmnobile while he stared uncomprehendingly into her concerned and
beautiful face.
"It's all right, Guy. I'm here. You're safe."
"You went awayl" he cried accusingly. "Went away and left me alone. You
never even gave me a chance," he said, his voice catching on a half sob.
Uhura caught him to her, and held him while he struggled feebly against
her. His cheek where it pressed against hers was burning hot. She drew back
and studied him, noting the hectic flush on his high cheekbones, and the
erratic pulse that was fluttering in the base of his throat. Still keeping
a grip on him she dug out her communicator and called the ship.
"Entepprise. "
"rzeela! Two to beam up, and this is an emergency. Have Dr. McCoy meet us
in the transporter room."
"Aye, aye, Sir!"
Seconds later she felt the familiar disorientation as her molecules were
separated and reassembled aboard the Enterprise. Kyle goggled at her, and
she realized what an odd picture she must present, huddled on the
transporter platform with Guy in her arms. The door hissed open, and McCoy
came pelting into the room. He took in the situation at a glance, and
before she could speak had bounded onto the platform and begun running his
medical tricorder over Guy's limp form.
"It's the disease," he said tensely. He checked the readings and looked
grim. "It's running rampant through his body. Good God, Uhura," he tossed
over his shoulder as he hurried down to the transporter control panel,
"didn't you notice this coming on?"
157
The Tears of the sinsers
Stung by what she considered an unfair attack, she deposited Guy gently on
the platform and leaped to her feet glaring at McCoy. "Perhaps if I had
some medical training and knew how this disease manifested itself, I might
have been able to diagnose his condition," she said sarcastically. "Also,
I'd like you to have done any better when Guy hides how he's feeling, and
refuses to admit when he's ill.,,
"I'm sorry, Uhura," he said, turning back. "I'm not so much angry with you
as I am with myself. It's my responsibility to care for the people on this
ship, and I hate it when I fumble a situation. I should have been down on
the planet checking him over every day."
"And he would have hated it," she said, her tone softe at McCoy's obvious
distress.
I "That's stiff no excuse." He punched open a communication fine and,
calling the sick bay, ordered a stretcher to the transporter room.
"Aren't you going to tell the captain?"
"After I see how bad things are. Besides, he's down in the gym working out,
and I'd rather let him know that I screwed up after he's released some
tension and frustration."
"'You didn't screw up," she said, sinking back down on the platform. "At
least no more than the rest of us. He should never have been forced to come
here," she concluded softly, drawing her hand through Guy's silky black
hair.
Kirk came hurrying into sick bay just as McCoy concluded his examination of
the unconscious musician. He was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting sweat
pants, and a towel was draped over his neck. A fine sheen of sweat still
dampened his bare chest.
"What's going on here? And why in hell wasn't I informed by you, Doctor,
that we had a casualty?"
"Because I didn't want you cluttering up my sick bay until I'd had a look,
and had something to report. Having Uhura
ISO
The Tears of the Singers
hovering over me was bad enough," he daid grumpily, with a ance to the
communications officer where she stood at the side of the bed, holding
Maslin's hand.
"So what's the problem?" Kirk asked, approaching the bed, and looking down
at Maslin. "Exhaustion?"
"I only wish it were that simple. Oh, it's exhaustion all right, but it's
triggered a dangerous flare of the syndrome, and if I can't get it back
under control-and quickly-it'll kill him.9
"Kill him?" Kirk echoed.
"Yes, kill him. I warned you this was a risk we were running by bringing
him along on this mission."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Try massive doses of cordrazine. T11at sometimes throws this disease into
an arrest."
"AJI right. Let me know how it goes. I'll be in my quarters if you need
me." He started for the door, then turned back as a new thought struck him.
"Has Spock been informed? We don't want him running all over the planet
because he thinks two of his landing party have vanished."
"I'm sorry, sir. I forgot," Uhura said quietly.
"Well get on it," he began, then stopped when he noticed the way Uhura was
clinging to the composer's limp hand. He gave an inward sigh. "Never mind.
I'll handle it." Uhura threw him a grateful look, and returned her
attention to Maslin.
"Spock ...
"Captain, forgive me for interrupting," the Vulcan broke in, his voice
carrying an underlying tenseness. "But we have a problem down here."
"No, you don't," Kirk said as he wiped the sweat from his chest, and tossed
the towel onto the bed.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Lieutenant Uhura and Mr. Maslin are aboard the Enterprise."
159
The Tears of the Singers
Spock looked peeved, and pressed his lips together. "May I ask why I was
not informed of this decision?"
"It was a rather spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Maslin became ill; Uhura
found him, and brought him to the ship."
"I see. Is it serious?"
"Hard to tell. Dr. McCoy is being somewhat closemouthed about the
prospects."
"Undoubtedly because he does not know," Spock said with some acerbity. "I
shall return to the ship," he suddenly announced. "If Mr. Maslin is unable