Chapter Six

 

 

The landing party materialized to find themselves standing on a wide stone balcony, with only a knee-high wall separating them from a precipitous view of the ul Nru mountains.  Ysaulte shook with sudden vertigo, then Leonard took her by the arm and moved her closer to the open doors behind them.

 

The servitor, Agnius, waited just inside.  There was nothing about his manner to indicate the circumstances of their last meeting.

 

“His Excellency, Ryu Gnaur, Negus ul Etumuuyea, bids you welcome.  This way, please.”

 

With a definite feeling of having done this before, the landing party followed the servitor into the rooms.  Despite their lavish appointments and frank luxury, they paled in comparison to the view of the Muuyean ranges.  Only an echo of moonlight illuminated the black peaks; bas-relief against an indigo sky.

 

“Remarkable.”  Ysaulte breathed in the air carrying through the many windows, the evening breezes pure and cool.  “I could almost envy them this.”

 

Ryu Gnaur appeared at a door, bowing politely, although Ysaulte caught an immediate sense of real anxiety radiating from the Negus.

 

“Then someone is ill,” she murmured softly, and Ryu Gnaur nodded, ignoring the starship officers.

 

“Yes, ZaworthIan.  I do not fault you for your caution.  The e’Negah Tama, my consort, has an illness for which my physicians can find no cure.”  From behind him came a low moan, partially muffled.  “The illness seems to be reaching some point of crisis.  I would ask your help,” the Negus went on.

 

Ysaulte regarded him with judgment in her eyes, less than willing to trust the Etumuuyea with their lives.  McCoy shifted restlessly at her side.

 

“The Senator?”

 

“Ah.  He awaits his ship.  He is downlevel, in the formal, public chambers.”

 

Another moan was heard from the inner room.

 

“Ysaulte.”

 

“A moment, Leonard, please.”  She walked toward Ryu Gnaur, holding out one hand.  “I must know the truth of this, from thine own mind.”

 

The Negus sighed, his long face grooved in tired lines.

 

“Even as legend suggests.  Very well.  Leave us,” he ordered the servitor, who obeyed instantly.  Before the incredulous eyes of the Star Fleet officers, Gnaur dropped to his knees, tilting his head back to bare his throat.  "Known is the way, ZaworthIan.”

 

“Jim…”  McCoy began, but the captain waved him into silence.

 

“It’s her call, Bones.”

 

Ysaulte reached forward to rest her fingertips against the cooler flesh of the Etumuuyea, seeking his thoughts through the pulse of his life.

 

“Fear not, I will do thee no harm,” she whispered, sensing apprehension.  Tapping into the surface levels of the Muuyean’s consciousness, Ysaulte picked over the realities which concerned her.

 

“Yes, great worry for the e’Negah.  She is ill, for some days, and thou art knowing not the cause…  Marlak is below, and knows not of our presence.  All exits guarded…  protection for us.  One more thing, yet…”  Finding the specific information she needed, Ysaulte freed him from her grasp, both physical and mental.  “We will attempt aid, Etumuuyea, but be warned.”

 

Ryu Gnaur stared at this slender woman, the embodiment of so much childhood legend.  The fire of her hair reflected in her swirling eyes, and he began to understand how ZaworthIa had defeated an Empire.  Quite unable to speak, he acknowledged her voice of omen in his mind.

 

“I concede.  Their safety…  his safety, comes paramount, before All, on your oath.”

 

“Turns this to be another Rihannsu trick, Ryu Gnaur, and she dies, and thou with her,” Ysaulte promised silently.

 

“None will disturb you, Lady.”

 

Ryu Gnaur stood, moving away from the door.

 

“Leonard.”  Ysaulte motioned him ahead of her.  “Forgive me, but I had to be sure.”

 

Bones nodded and paused long enough to pat her shoulder before going into the other room.  Ysaulte looked at Jim and Spock.

 

“James, call me if you see anything you do not like.  There is danger here.”

 

Spock inclined his head in the ZaworthIan’s direction, answering before Jim could speak.

 

“He will call.”

 

Jim caught a glimpse of her smile before she turned and left them, Ryu Gnaur at her heels.  A variety of responses came to mind, but he gave voice to only one.

 

“Mister Spock, thank you.  You are a man of compassion.”

 

“This is not the reaction I expected, Captain,” Spock remarked, as always, secretly astonished by the mercurial shifts of human emotion.

 

Jim moved to a window, subconsciously angling his body so he wasn’t in full view… or clear shot.  Muuye’s natural satellite (why couldn’t he recall its name?) was rising behind the mountains, casting a ghostly glow over the adamant black ranges.

 

“I’m supposed to be annoyed by this sudden surge of overprotectiveness on my behalf.  Well, I am, a little…  but I also recognize from where it stems.”  Jim hesitated, thinking ruefully that verbal conversation was becoming more and more cumbersome.  Ysaulte had held to her shields since their arrival, and he hadn’t pushed, but he found himself hungering for the pure honesty of telepathy, where one really could say what one thought.  If he could ‘talk’ to Spock…

 

“James, thou doth distract me yet again,” Ysaulte’s unspoken voice scolded tenderly.  “How can I concentrate?”

 

“I’m sorry, Ysaulte.  I wasn’t trying__”

         

          “I know, a’shas, but thy wishes ever reach me.  Wish now to seek thy Vulcan’s thoughts?  Something troubles thee.”

 

Her perceptions were uncanny.  Jim had not even realized his half-formed ideas were coalescing into some actual theories.

 

“Yes, some assumptions, and questions…  about what’s happened to you, and to us.”

 

“These I would share, but Leonard will need me in a moment.  Perhaps later?”  There was a smile in the words.  “Call thou to Spock.  I shall extend thy reach, what little is needed.  It is prudent, not to speak out loud.  The walls have ears, neh?”

 

The brilliant languor of Ysaulte’s psionic contact was slow to disappear, betraying her reluctance to leave, Jim felt.  His range of perception expanded in careful stages, giving him time to adjust to his increased senses.

 

“Focus, a'shas, and wish it so.”

 

Jim turned around to see Spock watching him patiently.  Still caught in the subsonic charge of Ysaulte’s otherworldly touch, he fixed his gaze upon the impenetrable darkness of his friend’s eyes and ‘pushed’, coming up short at the fathomless depths of Vulcan shielding.

 

“Ysaulte…”

 

“This is nothing to thee.  It doth be thy gift to see past even this, but civilized behavior requires invitation.”  With this last caution, she separated herself to attend the business at hand.

 

“An invitation.”  Jim nodded to himself, remembering some particularly favored prose.  He grinned, Spock’s eyes steady on his.  “’Behold, I stand at the door and knock’.”

 

Spock’s eyebrow rocketed upward.  Barriers relented, and silvered certainty enchained him…

 

“You were saying, Jim?  And how have you come by this ability?”

 

“A ‘loan’, from Ysaulte, and she’s what I want to talk about.  I’ve been thinking.”

 

Spock’s mental groan produced such a surge of amusement in Jim that he felt almost euphoric.  Heady stuff, this.

 

“Indeed,” the Vulcan agreed with faint disapproval.  “What are your thoughts?”

 

“We’ve all had a lot of questions about this situation, and about Ysaulte.  Why this resonance between us?  More specifically, why with me?  A supposition, Mister Spock.”

 

“Proceed.”

 

“I don’t pretend to understand the extent of her Talent.”  Jim used the ZaworthIan term without thinking.  “She is a gifted telepath, from a culture devoted to the psychic arts…  and in the course of her service to her homeworld, she makes some powerful enemies, who not coincidentally, perhaps, are her own blood relatives.  She’s set up, deliberately injured in such a way as to leave her psionically vulnerable.”

 

“Deliberately?”

 

“Don’t you think so?”  Jim asked with his own piercing accuracy of perception.  “To complete the scenario, add the starship Enterprise.  Diverted five days before, she orbits Cilehe, the flagship of the United Federation of Planets, one James T. Kirk, commanding…  with several officers not unknown within the Empire.  It must have looked like divine intervention.  A chance to involve Star Fleet in an intrasystem dispute, sowing discord within the Federation over the admission of ZaworthIa, and maybe even a little personal revenge.  How many systems do you think are going to protest ZaworthIa’s admission, once it gets out that they are probably the most controlled, psionically talented species within the galaxy who are still in humanoid form?”

 

Jim’s thought inevitably turned to Sargon, and Spock shared his friend’s remembered wonder at experiencing that life form’s possession.

 

“And Spock, what of the fact that they’ve provided espionage agents throughout the galaxy?  If it goes to open council__”

 

“And this it cannot do, for we of Za art defended in our privacy.”

 

A shining blast of energy struck their minds with immutable efficiency, a set of thought somehow echoing familiar to Jim.  It was his turn to steady the Vulcan.

 

”Verily, Captain, I salute thee.  I am Ysidra, and I am Sister to Ysaulte, but more, I am she who focuses the will of our people for the protection of our world.  It is most assuredly not our wish to be at odds with thee of the Federation.”

 

Jim, astounded, stammered mentally.

 

“That is certainly not our wish, either, Lady Ysidra.”

 

“Thou art kind, Captain, but forgive me, thou art not the Federation Council.”  A cool, musical laugh shivered over their thoughts.  “Truly, much as I might wish to converse longer with thee, I cannot.  I come to warn.”

 

“Then we are at your service, Lady, Jim returned courteously, regaining his equilibrium with the familiarity of the ZaworthIan’s affect.  He’d seen traces of this mind in Ysaulte’s thoughts.  His admitted recognition produced palpable approval, mingled with an odd relief.

 

“Ysaulte was not wrong to trust thee,” the Lady Protector declared, well pleased.  “I come to tell thee, a Rihannsu warship approaches orbit.  Thy crew has striven to contact thee, but Ryu Gnaur’s rooms, these private ones, doth be sensor shielded.  Thy Enterprise holds secure, with he who is her chief engineer on the bridge.  His mind-set is known to us from Ysaulte,” Ysidra explained, hearing the Terran’s questions before they could even take shape in his mind.

 

“Are the Romulans a threat to them?”  Jim asked with admirable calm, accepting her words as the truth.

 

“No, and neither shall they be, Captain…  in fact, the Romulans wonder right now how Enterprise managed to cloak herself and disappear in front of their eyes…  We of Za defend thy ship for now.  Hath thou all ZaworthIa behind thee, no matter the diplomatic outcome between our peoples.  This we do in heartfelt thanks.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Jim protested, embarrassed by the indulgent gratitude he could feel in the ZaworthIan elder.

 

“James, you do," she said, formality easing into genuine warmth.  "As you do, Spock of Vulcan.  Your friend names you a man of compassion, and in this he is correct.  We thank you as well.  It is well Ysaulte has your protection.  The Sisters fear the Senator seeks some method of further injuring her.  We fear the warship comes for her.”

 

“The ambassador was left… psionically needful,” Spock began in an effort to be delicate.

 

“Brain damaged and violated, mentally and physically,” Jim corrected, fighting to subdue a resurgence of the primitive anger he still felt, seeing Ysaulte lying in blood and ashes within his memory.

 

Ysidra covered her own wrath with her attempt to calm the Terran, and wondered if he'd realized yet how much he loved Ysaulte.

 

“Whether left so as a trap for thee, I know not, James, but the possibility exists.  Thou wert the first to touch her mind, and this proves both a help, and a hindrance.  Ysaulte’s soul was left unguarded.  She is not bondmate to thee, yet hath she need of thee.  Now, she is called to heal, and it will be a danger to her, for the e’Negah doth be made ill within her mind, and Ysaulte only recently made well.”

 

“What do you want me to do?”

 

“We believe there is that upon Muuye which could give them the strength to see to their own defenses against the Rihannsu, but it is hidden from our view.  So we ask only that thou doth stay near Ysaulte, and protect her as thou art able.  Trust us to keep thy ship safe.  I myself shall advise thy chief engineer of thy wishes.”

 

Jim considered the offer.  Even Spock had to admit an almost instinctive belief in the ZaworthIan’s integrity.

 

“Thank you, Lady Ysidra.  Tell Mister Scott “bishop to queen’s level one” and stand by.  Do not initiate contact with the Romulans or the planet.  No communications.”

 

“As thou wish it, Captain, this will be done.”

 

“We can’t beam up.”  It was not a question.

 

“It would… attract attention.”

 

There was a smile in Ysidra’s answer, and Jim once again caught a sense of her approval.  It was startlingly strong.

 

“Because it is not just mine own, James, but that of all my Sisters.  Hath thou no realization of what thou art owed, I perceive.  Ysaulte, though she knows it not, is well beloved among us.  Our protection of thy Lady Enterprise wilt be most thorough.”

 

"Then, I thank you again, Ysidra.  It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”  The irony in the Terran’s mind was not lost on the elder.

 

“James, we all regret thou art so deeply involved.  In truth, we did anticipate an incident of some kind, but not this.  The Rihannsu hoped to frighten thee with an unbalanced ZaworthIan, at the least… and it is known only unto the All what he expected at the most.  Naturally, there will be discussion, but it is my thought…  ZaworthIa will, in all probability, decline Federation membership.  We have no wish to cause such discord.  If thou canst only keep Ysaulte safe until thou canst deliver her unto Za, thou wilt possess our vigilant support.  Za will stay safely shielded, and we shall pursue a separate path.”

 

“I shall regret that, Lady Ysidra,” Jim replied formally.

 

“As shall I,” Spock added.

 

“I begin to believe, as shall I.  Ysaulte sees to thy safe exit from these rooms, when she is finished.  Take thou care, James, and thee, Spock.  Thou art charged with the cares of them both, neh?  Peace be thine.”

 

The faceted splendor of Ysidra’s mental touch vanished as abruptly as it appeared, leaving Jim and Spock still staring at each other, minds in meld.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

“What I have to do.  I have to trust her, Spock… and I do.”  With the sure grace of the born telepath, Jim unlocked their thoughts and started for the inner room.  “Coming?”

 

“Of course, Jim.”

 

***

 

Inside the sleeping quarters, Leonard and Ysaulte had been met by the e’Negah’s person physician, a tall, gaunt Muuyean by the name of d’Geev.  Ysaulte recognized his quiet competence at once, relaxing a little.  It was always comforting to discover the underlying problem wasn’t medical mismanagement.

 

A woman of middle years twisted restlessly amidst the bedcovers.  A younger woman sat alongside sponging the patient’s forehead.  McCoy, assessing that it was not immediately a life-threatening situation, asked to see the patient’s records and wondered in a low aside who the younger lady was.

 

“Daughter,” Ysaulte concluded, and d’Geev nodded, showing them to a computer terminal where he and Leonard reviewed the history and test results.  Those were not Ysaulte’s concern… besides, Jim caught her attention…  Once able to turn her thoughts from the starship captain, she focused on the half-conscious woman.

 

 ‘Listening’, Ysaulte was struck by the pain she felt emanating within the tortured mind before her.  Ysaulte sounded out the peculiar aura around the patient.  Something was not quite right, did not ‘ring true’, to use one of Jim’s Terranisms.  She waited and watched the healers.

 

 Presently, McCoy finished his chart review and moved over to the bedside, scanning over the Lady Tama and peering into his medical tricorder.

 

“At times, she has been markedly disturbed, exhibiting symptoms of some type of psychosis, but we are unable to determine an organic cause.  You are a well-known expert in xenobiology, Doctor McCoy, so when I learned you were available, I insisted on a consultation.  I told the Negus…  and he agreed.”  For all that d’Geev’s tone was pleasant and soft, there was no hiding its implacability.  “Leave us, Rysella.”

 

“As you wish, Vaanir.”  The girl got up and glided out, as self-assured as her father.

 

“May I?”  McCoy motioned to the poorly responsive woman.

 

"Please.”

 

McCoy examined the e’Negah, unwilling to render any diagnosis without first laying his own hands on the patient.

 

“Toxicology?”

 

“All negative.  I too questioned the use of some kind of drug.”  The Muuyean physician shook his head.  His worry for the e’Negah was very clear to Ysaulte, although he hid it well enough.

 

“Ysaulte?”  Leonard called her nearer.  “What do you think?”

 

Ysaulte approached the e’Negah rather reluctantly, hands held before her.  To the surprise of the men, the Lady Tama opened her eyes to look at the ZaworthIan.

 

“Come thee to aid, Sister?”  The Etumuuyea asked in Ysaulte’s mother’s tongue.  “Then come thee to witness.”

 

Tama held out her hands and Ysaulte took her cold fingers.

 

Reality shattered…

 

***

 

Jim collapsed just inside the door, kept from falling by the strength of his Vulcan friend.

 

“What has happened?”  Spock demanded, shaking in the psionic winds.

 

“I don’t know, damn it!”

 

“Quiet!”  Jim rasped, holding his own consciousness through main force of will.  “Don’t distract her!”

 

“What do you mean?”  Bones asked urgently, bending over Ysaulte’s body, which had crumpled across the Lady Tama’s, their hands still clamped together.

 

Jim ignored him, practically dragging Spock to the bedside.  Holding Ysaulte’s shoulders, he reached inside his mind, chasing after Ysaulte’s essence.  Lurid hallucinations accosted him, vicious visions of psychoses cast by the madwoman’s desperate terror…  How had he so quickly lost that contact?  It had seemed so tangible only moments before.

 

“It’s not real, Ysaulte.  Nothing here is real except you and me.”  Jim sent his reassurance into the chaotic mystery of Tama's schizophrenia.  Bloody revenants surrounded his mind, ghosts from Ysaulte’s past, and his.  Jim felt his spine tighten with atavistic fear…  then became aware of another presence.  Spock’s quicksilver thoughts, in the blessed comfort of the mind-meld.

 

“Let me help.”

 

“Spock.  These visions__”

 

“They are disturbing.  Half remembered dreams, and nightmares.  They will blind Ysaulte if we do not find her soon.”  Spock bespoke him gravely.

 

“Blind…  you mean, mind-blind.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“No.”  Jim’s efforts took on new urgency as he called to Ysaulte once more.  He willed her reply, Spock at his side.

 

***

 

Ysaulte struggled to break free from the chains of insanity encircling her.  Battling the unholy illusions that surrounded, she understood with part of her mind that none of this was accidental, nor coincidental.  Wraithlike images taunted her, torturing, but she found herself even more afraid of the tantalizing pleasures she could sense.  They invited her to stop resisting and give herself over.  Strange, she had never realized how seductive lunacy could be…  Ysaulte’s will faltered as the swirling glamourie enticed, and she silently cried out for help.  She knew she was trapped.

 

Her grip on rationality grew tenuous, but Ysaulte reminded herself of her last fight for life and thought.  She could defend herself from this madness.  If she could concentrate on Jim…  Ignoring the temptations of mindlessness, she sought him, reaching…  Suddenly, he was with her, his radiant psionic presence an anchor with the Vulcan to steady them both.

 

“James, thanks be to the All!”

 

“Ysaulte.  We need to get out of here.”

 

“Not yet, a’shas…  help me.  I must mend this.  It was wrought by design.”

 

Delving deeper into the distorted ideations, Ysaulte was finally rewarded with Tama’s self-awareness, locked away.  She made fast work of the redaction because she recognized now how it had been accomplished…  she freed the e’Negah of the damage wrought by her Senator cousin, clearing a path for Tama’s conscious mind.  Energy coalesced around them, time to choose.

 

“Live or die, Tama!”  And hurry up, for Jim is waiting…

 

Power erupted in incandescent surges as the one chose life.  Task completed, Ysaulte followed those precious voices calling her, safely chained by the caring in her friends.  Physical reality intruded painfully; lights, noises, and Jim’s anxious impatience.

 

“Ysaulte, we have to leave, now!  Ysidra said you knew a way.  Come on, honey, Tama’s fine.”

 

Ysaulte shook her head, trying to clear it of the disorientation still sucking at her thoughts…  Ysidra, here?  She let Jim pull her to her feet, noticing vaguely that the e’Negah did, indeed, seem to be fine, laughing in the arms of a not-so-solemn Negus.

 

“James.  Need we hurry?”  Leonard was beside her, and the Vulcan, and their attitudes were grim.  Ysaulte scrubbed her face with her hands and focused her eyes, only then discovering the pallor that accompanied Jim’s urgency.  This had strained him…

 

“Ysaulte.  Listen to me.”  Jim grabbed her wrists, joining their minds in the same breath.  Confusion echoed in her mind, and while he would have liked nothing better than to give her some time to recover, time was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

 

“Ysaulte, a Romulan warship is in orbit.  No matter what Ryu Gnaur told you, they’re here for you.  The Enterprise is all right, but we’ve got to get away from here.”  Even as he spoke, Jim could hear loud voices in the distance, followed by the sounds of disruptor fire.  “We can’t wait to see how grateful the Negus is going to be…  and his people don’t have a history of gratitude.  Where’s his emergency exit?”

 

Ysaulte’s comprehension rippled over his nerves.  She pointed weakly at a large ornate mirror hanging on the wall, her thought patterns at last becoming coherent.

 

“Yes, James, forgive me.  We must step into the looking glass.  It is a manner of transporter.”  Straightening, Ysaulte drew Jim around to face it.  "We must all step into it together.”

 

“Where will it take us?”  Spock asked, remembering Sarpeidon.

 

“We don’t have time to worry about it!”  Jim interrupted.  The sounds of disturbance were growing nearer.

 

“God damn it, I hate these things,” Bones muttered, taking Ysaulte’s arm.  Jim grabbed Spock and they walked into nothingness.

 

***

 

Jim came to within such absolute darkness that he wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or closed.  He still had a grip on Spock, and Ysaulte, and he could hear McCoy’s even breathing on Ysaulte’s other side.  Gods, what a trip!  His entire body ached, and his memory wasn’t in any better shape.  He could recall only bits and pieces of their actual transportation… just enough to feel again Ysaulte’s wrenching efforts to alter their destination after they’d first materialized in the middle of a group of armed Muuyean soldiers.  No wonder his head hurt…  but where were they now?  The air was damp, and warm, and he sensed the presence of water nearby.  As near as he could tell, they lay on a stone floor…  no, the ground.  Inside a cave?

 

“Jim?”

 

“I’m all right, Spock.  You?”

 

“Undamaged.”

 

Rustling noises, and the faint light cast by the tricorder as the Vulcan conducted a brief scan.

 

“Oh, God.  Remind me to never complain about our transporter again,” Bones groaned with long-suffering.  “Is Ysaulte okay?”

 

“She’s coming around,” Jim replied in a tone that forbade any discussion of how he knew.  He could feel the gray haze of exhaustion settling over Ysaulte’s conscious mind as she awakened.

 

“James?”

 

“I’m here.  We’re all right, Ysaulte.”  He felt as much as heard her sigh of relief.

 

“And where is here?  Perhaps I should__”

 

“You’ll do no such thing!”  McCoy snapped, having had the presence of mind to run his medical scanner over Ysaulte.  Her drawn features were revealed by the screen’s dim glow.  “You’ve got to rest, at least for a little while.”

 

She didn’t argue, which as much as anything proved Bones right.  Jim watched her turn over and push herself into a sitting position, then the tricorder switched off.  The black dark was oddly comforting.

 

“Can they follow us through?”  The doctor asked.

 

“No.  There is no way to trace us.  I picked this location out of Ryu Gnaur’s own mind, one location out of many.”  Ysaulte stretched tense muscles, beginning to remember those last few unreal moments of transportation.  She’d sorted for haven, desperate, and yanked this site out of the Negus’s own remembered legends.  “We are beneath the ul Nru ranges.”  Under the mountains of the dead and certainly well hidden!

 

“James, can it be I heard this from you, that Ysidra came to you?”  That memory refused to come clear.

 

“To warn us of the warship, and to shield the Enterprise.”

 

Ysaulte was quite astounded, and made no effort to conceal it from her companions.

 

“Know you the honor you are done, James?”

 

"On your oath, Ysaulte, and I thank you,” Jim answered formally, despite a grin at her reaction.  “Isn’t this part of what it means to be ‘kha’el du’Mes Ilya’ar sha’deh’?”

 

“I suppose so,” she mumbled wearily, suddenly too tired to think.

 

Jim scooted behind Ysaulte, drawing her into a loose embrace.  He held his breath as she relaxed against his chest, leaning her head against the curve of his neck.  As he’d hoped, she was sufficiently at ease within his arms to allow him to comfort her…  and it felt good to hold her, after experiencing the surreal hell of Tama’s mind.

 

“Mister Spock, how big is our hidey-hole?”

 

“Hidey-hole, Captain?”  Spock teased, then relented.  “This section of the cavern is thirty four point six meters by forty point nine meters.  The ‘ceiling’ is ten point one meters above us.  Twelve point two meters ahead of us there is an underground river of unknown depth.  The tricorder scans do not penetrate it.  There are several passages behind us, which would appear to extend into the mountains.  Also above us is a substantial deposit of tritantium silicate__”

 

“Which will shield us from conventional sensors,” Jim remarked.

 

“It will also block the transporter beam,” Spock pointed out practically.

 

“So, we’ll walk out,” Jim shrugged, enjoying Ysaulte’s squirming efforts to adjust to the play of his muscles.

 

“Jim, we can’t see our hands in front of our faces!”  Bones groused.

 

“Leonard, you would see?”  Ysaulte asked reluctantly.

 

“When we’re ready to leave, Ysaulte, not now.”  McCoy spoke hastily, realizing the ZaworthIan probably could produce some kind of light if he wished, despite her fatigue.

 

“When thou art ready, then.”  She yawned audibly, turning her face into the warm flesh of Jim’s throat and yawning again.

 

“I think we’d all better rest a while,” Jim ordered gently, for Ysaulte was nearly asleep in his arms; a declaration of trust that rocked him to his soul.

 

Spock sat down at Jim’s back, wordlessly lending his for his friend to lean against.  Jim accepted the offered support with thanks, and soon nodded off himself.

 

“Spock.”

 

“Yes, Doctor.”

 

McCoy had no answer, having mainly just wanted to hear the Vulcan’s voice in the dark…  and Spock let his motives pass unchallenged as they all took advantage of the peace.

 

***

 

Ysaulte woke very slowly, memory returning in subtle fragments.  She was eased into the present so gradually that Jim was not disturbed.  For a time she did not even think, feeling only the strength in the arms of this man, and the banked fire of his sleeping mind.  Without the benefit of sight, she had to rely on her other senses; the steady susurrus of Jim’s breath over the beat of his heart, the faint drip of water upon stone, the damp warmth of the air on her skin…   Hot springs near?

 

Her natural curiosity resurrected itself as she came to full awareness.  Ysaulte sent forth her thoughts, far-seeking.  In a vague way she could identify Marlak’s mental signature, and that more by what was missing from it.  The Rihannsu was well shielded…  She caught an indistinct hint of another.

 

“Ysidra?”

 

“Ysaulte, beloved, blessed thou art in the All.”  Even here, the formal greeting, which actually gave the younger woman a welcome sense of continuity.

 

“And the All is blessed in thee.  James told me thou wert near,” Ysaulte replied.

 

“And it was in thee to see for thyself, neh?  This one is pleased to note thou didst at least manage rest.”  Ysidra’s affection was plain, despite the sarcastic tone of her statement.

 

“I did.”  Ysaulte shivered, recalling the source of her exhaustion.

 

“Thy healing was well wrought, but it was difficult for thee, neh, child?”  The Lady Protector asked with more sympathy, aware of Ysaulte’s pained revulsion.

 

“Had I not James to call me, I should be lost still…  a second time.  Why should this be so?”

 

“Thou art knowing it is ever dangerous to calm the ill mind, and the risk greater when the damage is deliberate.”  Ysidra replied in a complete non-answer to Ysaulte’s real question…  and both women knew it.

 

“As mine was?”  Ysaulte remarked pointedly, not allowing the Elder Sister her evasion.  The Lady Protector was a peer, not a superior… not any more.

 

“Thou art grown older, and wiser, Ysaulte, and it is in me to wish this wast not so.”

 

Ysidra’s sorrow was almost enough to make Ysaulte back down.  Almost.  She waited for the elder to go on.

 

“We could not interfere.  Not then, not now.  This… resonance of thine with James_” and Ysidra could not express herself, not even within the plane of psionic communication.

 

“He helped me, Ysidra.”

 

“Think thee this is not known to us?  He is a Terran, Ysaulte.  Why is it so, that he sees thee so clearly?  Remember, thou art an example for an entire world, Sister.”

 

“Or an Empire, or a Federation,” Ysaulte said, understanding the implication.  “I stand not representative of normal, routine relations, Ysidra.  Every Terran could not so affect us.”

 

“And how can we know this for the truth?  We must watch, and wait.  Is he equally affected by thee?  There must be answers, before decisions.”

 

“Ysidra…  James came upon me, and I, defenseless, clung to the touch of his mind.  It owes to my unguarded will.”

 

“And some manner of bond took root.  This much even James perceives, as well as the belief that all this is motivated according to Rihannsu purpose.”  Ysidra gave an unseen shrug.

 

“Then how can our actions affect anything?”  Ysaulte demanded in exasperation.

 

“Ysaulte.  Think thou to tell me this is not fair?”  Ysidra’s tone chided, and Ysaulte had the grace to be ashamed.  To be sure, that childish statement had come to mind.

 

“Then what shall I do?”

 

“Live out the days, act on the moments, learn what thou canst.  Keep well.  Just understand, the Circle ‘waits.”

 

“And his ship?  Is she safe?”

 

“Am I myself not sworn to care for her?”  Ysidra asked, annoyed.

 

“Forgive me, my Lady Protector.  I can only plead my recent ills,” Ysaulte said, genuinely apologetic.  It had been a stupid question.

 

“Better, I shall forget it.  Go now, lest he wakes to find thee absent.  I perceived his worry, earlier.  Thy Sisters watch, Ysaulte.”

 

That gentle reassurance was the push Ysaulte needed to ease her consciousness back into physical reality, where the achromatic darkness was still both comfortable, and comforting.  Jim held her close, as if even in sleep he had known her gone…  In spite of her doubts, Ysaulte had to smile at the idea.  What matter the consequences of their mental resonance?  It merely was, and therefore to be accepted.

 

His mind stirred towards wakefulness with breathtaking rapidity, shocking Ysaulte into reflected excitement; a nightmare’s adrenaline rush, shrouding rationality.

 

“James!  All is well__” She tried to reassure him, distantly aware of the Vulcan, waking.

 

”Ysaulte!”

 

Jim shifted their positions with a speed that made her gasp, yanking her across his lap so she faced him directly, and it never occurred to Ysaulte to be afraid of him.

 

“I had a dream__”

 

“I know, a’shas.”  Her hands went to his head, steadying his disoriented rush.  The brilliant fire of his mind erased any notion she might have had about staying out of his thoughts…  Fear and reluctance had no place here, within this immolation, with all but truth burned away.   “I am here.”

 

“Where did you go?”  It was the half-petulant cry of a frightened child.

 

“Only far enough away to know that all is well, shas.  All is calm.  The Enterprise awaits thee.”  Ysaulte reoriented him tenderly, ignoring Spock’s unseen interest.  “We are all well.  Leonard sleeps yet.”

 

Ysaulte was rewarded by the tension leaching from Jim’s muscles, and her own hold turned into an unthinking caress.  The hands that had tightened on her upper arms went around her slender back, kneading along her spine.

 

“Ysaulte.”

 

She knew precisely when his eyes closed, for hers closed with them, and the first satin touch of his mouth was an invitation to miracles.  Their psionic link surged into a living current, blasting superficial considerations clean away, and all she could feel was the heat of his lips on hers.  Ysaulte felt blinded by his radiant awareness, then her heart soared with the knowledge that he could see everything, as she could…

 

She tasted his stunned amazement, so sweet! battling with the purely sensual pleasure of his kiss…  then both were pushed back by his sense of responsibility.  That wild electricity that had connected their nervous systems faded as he set her away from him… faded, but did not disappear.

 

“James, thou art magician!”

 

Ysaulte’s hands left Jim’s face, only to slide down his arms and grasp his wrists.  Jim let his own fingers clamp around her forearms, needing something to hold onto in the cave’s blackness.  He could feel her bones moving with an odd intimacy.

 

“What am I doing?  Ysaulte__”

 

“Do thou not even attempt to apologize, James, for thou art living example of thy words.”  The ZaworthIan could hear as he fought to master his reactions: curiosity, shame, fear…  “Why art thou curious?”  She wondered, finding Jim’s myriad of thoughts a fascinating illumination into his nature.  “Wast thee who thought to teach me the differences between an act of anger, and an act of love.  Art thou so surprised to find I share this wish to learn?  And why shame?”  Here she was truly puzzled, having no frame of reference.

 

“Because I want you,” Jim admitted in the near-brutal honesty of the voice unspoken, thereby explaining his fear, as well…  his heart shrank from the possibility of hurting her.  Ysaulte’s comprehension echoed into his mind with all the force of a blow, empathic understanding yielding to a certain feminine confusion.

 

“Is this wrong?”  She asked, so sweetly bewildered Jim wanted to laugh out loud with relief.

 

“Ysaulte.  You’re not afraid.”

 

“Never less so…  should I be?”

 

“No,” Jim breathed, awed by the degree of trust Ysaulte had in him.  It poured from her soul to encircle him with her absolute confidence.  There was right in this universe; right, good, and virtue…  and evil would never erase it.  His own belief, reflected…  redoubled…  “I won’t hurt you…  I couldn’t.”

 

“I know,” and she did know, feeling his care for her like a fire in her mind, as plain as her emotion for him.  “James, I cherish thee.”

 

“Ysaulte.”  He moved her back into his arms.  She felt like she belonged there, and he was starting to wonder if maybe she did.

 

“Leonard wakes.”

 

“We should leave,” Jim said verbally, for Spock’s benefit, once again grateful for the privacy of silent communication.

 

“Yes.  We shall be a while, walking out.  By the time we are out in the open, the warship should be gone.  I hope.”  Ysaulte commented with a faint smile in her voice.

 

“And if it isn’t?”  Jim speculated, ignoring McCoy’s grunts and groans as the doctor stretched and sat up.

 

“Za will provide,” Ysaulte proclaimed with such serene nonchalance Jim had to grin, sensing Spock’s refined impatience.

 

“Gentlemen, Ysaulte has been in contact with the Sister who is cloaking the ship, and Enterprise is fine…  but Ysaulte, I do have a question.”

 

“You need only ask, a’shas.”

 

Jim just knew Spock and Bones were looking at each other, dark or no dark.  Well.

 

“Marlak knew we were in orbit.  Won’t he encourage the warship to stay in orbit and keep looking?”

 

“Then they shall be… discouraged… but I do not believe he will.”  Ysaulte hesitated, wondering how best to explain.  “Marlak does not seek public retaliation against me.  The warship would have returned me for trial, and this is not Marlak’s wish, for his own actions stand suspect.  At any rate, you are under Za’s protection now.  He cannot move against you.”

 

“Ysaulte, it’s not myself I’m worried about, or the Enterprise,” Jim told her seriously, not caring that his friends were listening.  “We’re not exactly helpless, you know.”

 

“Forgive me, James.  I am disrespectful,” Ysaulte apologized, aware of the Terran’s poorly hidden irritation.  “I am overcautious on your account.”

 

“Because you feel guilty about involving us?  We involved ourselves, Ysaulte.  And maybe it’s not just you.  I think you pick up the concern Spock and Bones feel…  maybe you just amplify it somehow.”  Jim felt Ysaulte stiffen in his arms, but went on.  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and it would explain a lot.”

 

“Think you my shielding so insecure?”  She demanded, upset.

 

“Not now, no… but earlier, after we… found you.  Something did happen, some kind of subconscious imprinting.”

 

Ysaulte eased out of his reach, thinking it impossible to concentrate while in his embrace.  Jim let her go, not precisely sure why she was so distressed.

 

“Ambassador, it is logical to assume there might be unexpected results from exposure to Terrans,” Spock pointed out in an effort to lighten the ZaworthIan’s dismay.  Ysaulte appreciated his efforts, but her anxiety was unrelieved.  She stood and paced the few steps to the water’s edge, crouching to dip her fingers into the sulfurous warmth.

 

“I wonder if it is exposure to ZaworthIans that is the real problem,” she admitted softly.  “I fear the effects on you all.”

 

“Ysaulte, we may be affected,” Jim noted, rising to move toward the sound of her voice.  “But we’re okay.”

 

“Take care, Captain,” Ysaulte whispered.  “You admit to alien influence, and risk your command.”

 

“Only if I can’t handle it, Ambassador, and I’m not doing too badly.”

 

James T. Kirk was not without his own arrogance, and it brought an involuntary smile to Ysaulte’s lips.  She put out one hand to stop him a single step from disaster.

 

“And if we are playing into whatever twisted plan Marlak has?”  She asked, amused by his surprise as he squatted beside her and discovered how near he was to the water.

 

“Whatever his plan was, it hasn’t worked like he meant.  He thought you’d be as insane as the e’Negah was…  and he thought you’d influence my command decisions.”

 

McCoy thought about himself, wanting to go to the e’Negah while Jim restrained him in Ysaulte’s favor.  The recollection flashed over Ysaulte’s perception so strongly she could not keep it from Jim.

 

“Bones, you’re wrong about that.  Ysaulte had to go into that healing with a sense of control.  Yes, I made a command decision to give her that control.  So did Spock…”

 

The source of that ‘compassionate man’ remark, Spock realized.

 

“…she had to have it, or she had no chance,” Jim continued, no hint of accusation in his tone.  He merely wanted to set McCoy straight.

 

“I underestimate you,” Ysaulte murmured.  “I did not see that.”

 

“Your focus was elsewhere, as was the doctor’s,” Spock stated, in a patent effort to close the discussion and get moving.

 

“Quite correct, Commander.  Leonard, you would see?”

 

“Only if you want me to take one step out of here,” Bones answered absently, his mind on Ysaulte’s effortless, reflected telepathy.

 

“Ambassador, are you able to see in the dark?”  Spock asked unexpectedly.

 

“No, not as you mean,” Ysaulte replied, disconcerted.  “I have an image of my surroundings, however, as do you.”

 

“Terrans do not possess that facility to any great extent,” Spock informed her, curious to see what light the ZaworthIan could supply.

 

Ysaulte stood, and Jim felt a mental lurch.  A globe of silvery-blue radiant energy welled up from the palms of her outstretched hands.  With a low chuckle, she tossed it toward the rock ceiling, from where it cast a sorcerer’s glow over the cavern.

 

“Fascinating.”

 

“This won’t weaken you?”  Jim inquired hastily, trying to hide the sudden aching hunger her laughter produced low in his gut.

 

"Oh, no, shas.  This I could do even as a child, an ordinary skill.”

 

The ZaworthIan looked at him, her eyes dark pools in the pale oval of her face.  The iridescence above them seemed to strike sparks in her hair, lending such an aura of power to her attitude that Jim’s throat tightened.  She appeared to him so mysterious, so enticing, and so alien…  On an impulse, he lowered his eyes and inclined his head, until his posture mirrored his respect.

 

“I find you extraordinary, my Lady Ysaulte,” he thought, knowing she would hear.

 

“James.”  Ysaulte held one hand out to him while the other went to her throat; a gesture echoing so much inner conflict that even Spock and McCoy could see it.  “Shall we go?”  She asked, her voice unsteady.

 

“Of course.”  Jim straightened without taking her hand.

 

They turned for the now-revealed exits, the luminous evidence of Ysaulte’s force of will hovering over their heads.

 

“Which one?”  The doctor wondered.  There were four holes in the cave’s wall, each one leading into blackness.

 

Ysaulte placed her fingers to her temples.  Jim was less startled this time by the resultant flux he sensed with his subconscious mind.  The light preceded them into one of the dark passages and the ZaworthIan followed it in without speaking.  Jim shrugged and motioned his friends in behind her, bringing up the rear.

 

They walked single file in the blue haze of the narrow natural corridor.  Ysaulte kept her thoughts to herself.  No matter what Jim said, if she influenced his mind she was wrong…  more, she committed a crime under the laws of her homeworld.  This uncertainty was distasteful.  She did not know what to believe, nor how to behave… and did Jim intend to imply that whatever feelings she had for him were merely pale reflections of his friends’ regard?  While she had not any prior experience with some of these emotions, she was quite sure that Spock and Leonard did not share them all…  Jim must know there was more.

 

Ysaulte picked her way over a particularly rough section of rock, surprised when the Vulcan took her elbow to assist her.

 

“Are you all right, Ambassador?”

 

“I am troubled, Mister Spock.  It is hard to know which course to follow.”

 

She was obviously not referring to their trek out of the caves.   The footing had been relatively smooth so far, and Spock had the ineffable sense of the mountain’s mass diminishing.  Before he could respond, they rounded a bend and the passage widened into a huge cavern, which immediately swallowed Ysaulte’s light.

 

Sighing, the ZaworthIan redirected her psionic luminescence until it pooled around their feet.  It was not the preferred method, for there was a disorientation to be had in walking through the swirling glow…  but neither could she illumine this cathedral of stone.  The eternal formations of mineral and water struck Ysaulte with awe.

 

“Try to look ‘through’ the light, and not directly at it,” she warned and resumed walking.

 

“Is this harder for you, Ysaulte?”  McCoy asked, running his feinberger over her and peering into his medical tricorder.  Ysaulte realized she had quite forgotten the Healer’s own perception.

 

“No more than on you, Leonard.  You are uneasy underground.  Why?”

 

“Ysaulte__” Jim started to interrupt, but McCoy waved him down.

 

“No, it’s okay, Jim.  I don’t mind talking about it.”

 

“You need only think on it, Brother,” Ysaulte reminded him gently, having a clear sense of an old hurt.

 

“That’s right, you know, I had almost…  well.  Jim and Spock are familiar with the story.”  McCoy moved to Ysaulte’s side and offered his arm, which she took with murmured thanks.  Spock fell back to walk beside his captain and they all continued apace across the massive cave.

 

“I came down with a disease called xenopolycythemia…”  As they traveled on, Leonard shared his memory of a hollow world called Yonada, where one could touch the sky, and love had been found, then lost.

 

“I understand,” Ysaulte said at length.  “It is very sad.”

 

“It was, for a long time.  Many years ago, on Earth, a poet wrote, ‘It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’.”

 

Ysaulte pondered that for a bit.

 

“It seems an optimistic view, but I suppose one might find comfort in the idea.”

 

“May be,” Bones replied amiably.  “It’s all water under the bridge, now.”

 

“Yes.  I like the metaphor, Leonard.”

 

“You will find, Ambassador, that Doctor McCoy is full of… metaphors,” the Vulcan intoned behind them, and Ysaulte, having heard Jim in silent translation, could not restrain a giggle.

 

“Don’t think I don’t know what he thought,” Leonard whispered in her ear.  “Spock’s clear as glass sometimes, especially when he’s pickin’ on me.”

 

The ZaworthIan’s amusement swept over all three men, and Jim congratulated himself, Spock, and Bones for having diverted her.

 

“Curious.  Of what use were these chambers in Muuyean history?”  The first officer speculated as they approached the far wall.  Another selection of exits awaited them, each as unremarkable as the other, but there were signs of their having been widened and smoothed by artificial means.

 

“Ryu Gnaur’s memories suggested a history of illicit usage,” Ysaulte informed them, closing her eyes to send out her curiosity once more, searching their path.  Once again, Jim had that feeling of a mental lurch, only it seemed a lot stronger this time.

 

“Is something wrong?”  Bones wondered, but she did not answer him.  She focused her concentration on their shadowy surroundings, trying to clarify what her senses were telling her…  no free path?  She ‘cast’ again…

 

McCoy grabbed her arm as the ZaworthIan swayed against him, and Jim was at her other side instantly.

 

“Ysaulte!”

 

“Give her a minute, Bones.”  Jim had a vague understanding of what she was trying to do, and the effort she was putting into it.  Her body went limp and he caught her, and she was gone, gone…  then ‘back’ again, with the first sole purpose of getting her feet back under her. 

 

“I’m not letting go,” Jim told her sternly before Ysaulte even thought to move away.

 

She wasn’t about to argue with the sure voice of command, content to stand within his arms while she reviewed what she had ‘seen’ of their choices.

 

“What did you find?”  Jim demanded, and Ysaulte suddenly realized she could just tell him, and let him make the decision.  It struck her with the force of a revelation, until Jim started laughing at himself with rueful astonishment.

 

"What is so funny?”

 

“I hadn’t considered the possibility that you wouldn’t let me make the decisions, Ambassador!”

 

Ysaulte twisted around to look at him, and burst out laughing herself.  She could not resist his amusement.  The stress of the last few hours slipped from her like a weight, shed.

 

Spock lifted an eyebrow in their direction, motioning McCoy’s attention to the ZaworthIan’s phosphorescence, which had brightened markedly.

 

“Fascinating,” the Vulcan repeated his earlier remark.

 

“Jim thinks so,” Bones said quietly, with all the cheer of Cassandra predicting the destruction of Pompeii.  Moving a few feet away from Jim and Ysaulte, who were momentarily oblivious to their companions, the doctor waited for Spock to join him before adding “You do see what’s happening, don’t you?”

 

“If you mean, am I aware of the captain’s attraction to the ambassador, yes, Doctor.  I am.”

 

McCoy shook his head.  Useless, discussing this with Spock.  It was a damn shame, but somebody was going to end up hurt over this… and while he’d been more worried about Jim, he was starting to think it would end with Ysaulte’s heart broken.  Still, watching them laugh at each other, it was impossible to stay gloomy.

 

Spock watched as well.  Jim’s effect on the ZaworthIan had proven unexpectedly evident; however, she had no less an effect on Jim.  The acute loneliness Spock sometimes sensed in his friend was blunted by her presence.  How could Spock fault her for that?

 

“So tell me, fair Lady, what are our options?” Jim questioned as soon as he finally got a grip on his amusement, and Ysaulte’s.

 

Ysaulte turned until he stood behind her, which was just about all the moving she could do, for Jim still refused to release her.  She pointed to the black holes of the cave exits, the Terran’s hands warm on her upper arms.

 

“Three choices, each with its own attendant risks.  The left is the shortest route; however, it contains vertical climbs, exposure to harmful gasses, and an underwater swim.  Fallen stone blocks the right.  It would take the most time, but would not require we clear it by hand, for it is not beyond my capability to clear it by mind.”

 

“Now, what is it you ain’t saying about the middle passage?”  Bones wondered resignedly, for the moment putting aside the ZaworthIan’s admission of telekinetic skills.

 

“The center route is not within my vision.  That is why I looked twice.  It is thought-shielded.”

 

“So anything could be down there,” Bones concluded.

 

“Do you think it’s been deliberately hidden from you?”  Jim asked doubtfully.

 

“Hidden from ZaworthIan eyes, at any rate.”

 

Spock activated his tricorder and they waited, listening to the faint whir of the first officer’s scan.

 

“Readings tend to confirm the ambassador’s report on the two side tunnels, however, I am unable to scan past twenty meters into the center passage.  The tricorder cannot be considered completely reliable__”

 

“__due to the continued presence of tritantium silicate deposits,” Jim said for him.  “Is it sensor shielded?”

 

“Unknown, Captain.”

 

“Hmmm.  Wonder what’s down there?”

 

Hearing the curiosity in Jim’s tone, Bones groaned.

 

“I reckon we’ll just have to go see,” he announced sourly.  “Right, Spock?”

 

“Check, Doctor,” Spock replied gravely, which made Jim snicker for some reason, Ysaulte noticed.

 

“Command by committee, Captain?”  She asked him with a grin.

 

“Exactly, Ambassador.  Most efficient, wouldn’t you say?”  Jim dropped a quick kiss on the side of Ysaulte’s neck then released her, before her startled shy appreciation could tempt him into more.  “I’ll take point this time.  Spock, after me…  then you, Ysaulte.  Bones?”

 

“I’ll watch our backs, Jim,” and for once, there was no argument in the doctor’s voice.

 

Ysaulte redirected the illumination, and they started walking, again.

 

Twenty meters into the stone corridor, the psionic luminescence Ysaulte was producing abruptly disappeared, snuffed out like a candle.  Knocked to her knees in the adamant dark, she exclaimed with pain.  Leonard was at her side by the time she caught her breath.

 

“Drei kher mis’du ve’hwor!”  She cursed under her breath.

 

“Are you all right, Ysaulte?  What did you say?”

 

“Oh, no.”  Jim interrupted hurriedly, squeezing past Spock and kneeling next to her.  “Trust me.  You don’t want her to translate that!  Are you hurt, Ysaulte?”

 

“I bit my tongue, damn it, and this part of the caves is thought shielded, making me nearly mind blind.”

 

Even while she explained, Jim realized that their mysterious mental resonance was fading.  He could still feel an echo of her emotions, but her voice in his mind was inaudible.  The sense of loss he felt surprised him.

 

“I should have expected this, James.  I am all right.”  Ysaulte sighed and straightened.  This was going to be more difficult than she had thought, for she had grown accustomed to the Terran’s subconscious support.

 

“Then let’s go on.”

 

Using the dim glow of the tricorder screens, they made cautious progress.  The large cavern was half an hour behind them when Bones stopped them for a series of injections.

 

“I shoulda thought of this sooner.  You can get dehydrated real quick while caving, and we haven’t replaced any water,” the doctor said by way of explanation.  “This will hold us for now, but when we get back to the ship we’ll need to take in some extra fluids.”

 

“Understood, Doctor.”  “Whatever you say, Bones.  “Yes, Healer.”

 

McCoy enjoyed the rare sensation of having everyone in agreement with him, then herded them on down the passage.  For all that they had to practically feel their way along, they continued to make good time for a while.

 

“Spock, take a look at this.”  Faintly visible in the tricorder’s glow,  carved letters appeared in the rock wall.  They seemed very old.  “What kind of writing is this?”

 

“I am not familiar with it, Captain, but there is some resemblance to the primary Muuyean language.  Perhaps a parent tongue.  The carvings are approximately three thousand, nine hundred thirteen Standard years old,” Spock noted, scanning them.

 

“Approximately?”  Ysaulte whispered to McCoy.

 

“He left off the ‘point blah blah blah’.”

 

Ignoring the muffled conversation behind him, Spock ran another tricorder scan over the runes.

 

“A few individual words do translate,” the Vulcan said almost reluctantly, pointing to some of the glyphs.  He held his tricorder high to illuminate what he could.  “This one corresponds to the Muuyean word for ‘dead’.”

 

“Ryu Gnaur said ul Nru, translated, means ‘that which belongs to the dead’,” Ysaulte remarked.

 

“Yes, I remember.  Anything else, Spock?”

 

Indicating each in turn, Spock continued his hesitant litany.

 

“Warning… danger… and this, I believe, translates as ‘keep out’.”

 

One slanted eyebrow lifted in Jim’s direction.

 

“Well, that sounds clear enough to me,” McCoy remarked wryly as the captain kept walking, with Spock quick to follow.  Ysaulte shrugged, and turned to go also.  “It’s my medical duty to remind the captain about what usually happens when fools rush in where angels fear to tread!”  Bones called out loudly then rushed to catch Ysaulte.

 

“Well said, Leonard,” she praised him quietly and McCoy decided not to disillusion her.  The passage began to narrow, with the landing party eventually forced to turn sideways and sidle through.

 

“Ha’sh’ah drek!”  Ysaulte muttered as the footing became looser and then abruptly turned into muck.  Her thong sandals were sucked off her feet with the next steps.

 

“A problem?”  The doctor inquired politely, paying no attention to the changed ground.  His Fleet-issue boots were essentially all-terrain.

 

Ysaulte cringed as the mud squished between her toes, thanked Za that at least it was not cold, and hoped that it was only dirt and water before she answered, never slowing their pace.

 

“Not at all, Leonard, thanks.”

 

The Vulcan was only just visible to her, about five meters ahead, and Ysaulte had no sense of James at all.  The pressure on her perception was becoming more than a nuisance… she felt anxious, and was developing a colossal headache…  and the air was so warm…  it seemed too thick to even breathe…

 

“It’s getting wider!”  Jim shouted.  “Spock, did you notice the walls?  This part isn’t natural.”  Ahead the tunnel widened into a genuine shaft, with artificial supports along the sides.  He worked his way around one last projection of rock and popped out of the crevice.  “Thank god,” Jim whispered to himself, taking his first deep breath in what felt like hours.  He watched Spock climb out, the Vulcan managing to appear as unruffled as usual when he joined him, except for the mud on his boots… mud?  His half-formed question was answered when Ysaulte slid into view.  Her feet were bare under a covering of scarlet mire, which gave Jim quite a turn until he remembered her blood was not that color.

 

“Ysaulte?”  Even in the almost nonexistent light, her pallor was pronounced.  He had the idea that it was a real effort for her to raise her head to look at him.  “Are you all right?”

 

“James.  I…  this pain…”

 

About the time McCoy made his way out of the little passage, Ysaulte’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed into the dust on the tunnel floor.

 

“Now what?”  Bones squatted beside her and ran his feinberger over the ZaworthIan with a feeling of déjà vu.  “Spock, how do you feel?”  He asked suddenly.

 

“The sensation of the thought-shielder is also apparent to me, although not to the extent that the ambassador perceives it.  It has given me a… I believe the term is ‘headache’.  The ambassador did refer to a pain before she became unconscious,” Spock noted.

 

Bones pulled out his hypospray and gave Ysaulte a couple of shots.

 

“What’re you giving her?” Jim asked from her other side.

 

“A mild stimulant, something to ease her pain.  No narcotics, Jim, she doesn’t like them.”  The doctor explained as reassuringly as he would the family of any patient, which wasn’t lost on either Jim or Spock.

 

“It’s funny, there’s a difference, when she’s ‘gone’ in thought and when she’s just unconscious.  I’m finally starting to figure it out,” McCoy said, taking another reading and giving Ysaulte one last injection.  “Mister Spock, I’ve got one of these for you, too.”

 

“Doctor, I am not in need of__”

 

“Take it, Spock.  Orders,” Jim said absently, his attention on Ysaulte as she started to move.  For a minute, he so missed that inner sense of her mind waking that his hands clenched involuntarily.  “Come on, Ysaulte.”

 

Ysaulte felt suspended in nothingness…  hearing no thoughts.  The All forbid, she must be dead.  No thoughts!  Still, someone called…

 

“Wake up, Ysaulte.  Come on.”

 

So!  She was not dead!  Surprised, Ysaulte opened her eyes, and memory came rushing back at the sight of Jim’s face, as dark-shadowed as it was.

 

“What happened?”

 

“A logical question, Ambassador,” she heard Spock say, and then Jim was helping her up.  The Healer was repacking his medical kit.  “It would appear the psionic barriers that were planted around this part of the cave are detrimental in their effect.”

 

The Vulcan rubbed his upper arm, and Ysaulte realized the Terran physician was responsible for her return to consciousness.

 

“I see.  Thank you, Leonard.”

 

“Can you travel?”  Jim asked.  “We’ve got a clear path.”

 

“But which way do we go?”  Ysaulte asked, blinking as she tried to see past the immediate area of illumination.

 

For the first time, Jim became aware that the tunnel did, in fact, stretch off in two directions.  A blind corner obscured the crevice they’d come out of.  Jim hated to confess it, but the caves had twisted around so much he wasn’t sure which direction was ‘out’.

 

“Spock?  Recommendations?”

 

“I believe if we go left we will leave the caves, Captain,” Spock reported after a quick scan of the tricorder.

 

“And if we go right?”  Jim wondered, just out of curiosity.

 

“To go right will take us to the source of the thought-shielder,” Ysaulte told him, certain of that.  “I should like to know what produces this effect, James.”

 

She spoke to Jim’s own curiosity.

 

“I recommend we return to the ship, Captain,” Spock put in quickly before his friend could yield to temptation.

 

“Me too, Jim.  I’m tired.  You can come back and see what they’re hidin’ down here before we warp out of orbit,” McCoy drawled and started walking.

 

“Really, Doctor, interference with the planetary government is not…”  Spock’s argument with Bones faded from Jim’s hearing as the Vulcan followed McCoy, taking the light with him.

 

“I guess we’d better catch up, Lady Ysaulte,” Jim murmured, hearing the faint rustle of her clothing as she moved to his side.

 

“We have little choice, neh?”  Ysaulte laughed and took his arm, leading him through the dark.  “I am ready to return to the ship as well, James.”

 

“Home sweet home,” he remarked with rueful resignation.  With one last wistful glance down a tunnel he couldn't even see, Jim allowed himself to be pulled after the rest of the landing party.

 

End Chapter Six