Chapter 10

Cadet's Log, Stardate 2269.12

I can't believe my good fortune. Here I am, lying under covers of pure silk, in a bed large enough for a crowd, with a princess to giggle and talk with for half the night. I've never done anything like this before! I can't believe Daddy gave permission, especially after the way the inquiry into Chari's death went. That was horrible!

Jamie had been terrified. She really believed she was the cause of the young servant's death. After all, hadn't she asked Chari to get the sundaes, a task Jamie was perfectly capable of performing herself?

It should have been me who died, not Meyla's attendant.

Jamie didn't want to think about that. The still form of Chari lying on the floor of the VIP quarters still made her tremble in awful memory at her close call. But instead of being blamed for Chari's death, she discovered she was a heroine in Meyla's and Ben'yla's eyes.

The inquiry had been a noisy, confusing affair, and Jamie was glad her father was holding her hand. She cringed at the shouting, the accusations, and the nasty things Councilor Grayson said about her father's security.

But the most frightening moment came when Marrid Feldman looked at Jamie. The woman's piercing gaze sent shivers up and down Jamie's spine. For some reason, Ms. Feldman hated her, as if Jamie were the cause of some kind of disaster, rather than the heroine everyone said she was.

Marrid Feldman had declared in a loud and demanding voice that the Jovitian royal family absolutely must beam over to the Klingon ship for safety's sake. Her comment produced a few moments of astonished silence before collapsing into chaos again.

Jamie told her story not only for the Enterprise officers and Federation diplomats, but also for a delegation of hostile Jovitians from the Klingon ship, the Korbin. It was scary indeed to look into the eyes of Chari's relatives and confess what had happened. She would have burst into tears if her father had not been right beside her, encouraging her with gentle words, and speaking to the rest of the group in his starship commander's voice.

Marrid Feldman's look turned dark indeed during Jamie's testimony. Why doesn't that woman like me?

Ms. Feldman had badgered Jamie about each detail of her story until her father had heard enough and dismissed Jamie from the hearing. Oh, how Ms. Feldman howled after that!

After the hearing, no one was happy—not Captain Kirk, not his officers, not the Jovitians.

So, it came as quite a surprise when Jamie found herself invited to spend the evening and the night as Meyla's honored guest in the VIP quarters. It was even more of a surprise when her father consented.

The evening in Meyla's quarters held no end of wonders. After a supper of the most incredible foods Jamie had ever tasted, Meyla brought out a black velvet box and shoved it across the table. "This is for you, Jamie."

Jamie turned the box over in her hands. "What is it?"

"Open it and see." Ben'yla crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the interaction between the girls.

Jamie lifted the lid. "Oh!" she gasped. "Oh!"

No words could describe what lay on the soft velvet lining. It was an Ice Flake, cut from a beautiful Seri Stone. It was blue and green and purple, all twirling and swirling together. The Ice Flake looked alive.

Jamie pulled the chain out and held it up. A pale glow surrounded the stone. "It's a-a—" she stuttered breathlessly.

"An Ice Flake," Meyla finished, grinning. "Put it on."

Jamie carefully lowered the fine gold chain over her head. The Ice Flake hung against her chest. "It's beautiful."

"It's our thank-you for saving Meyla's life," Ben'yla said with a smile.

Jamie lifted the Ice Flake and let it rest in her palm. "It must be worth a fortune."

"It's priceless. But Meyla's life is priceless."

Jamie looked up. "I don't think my dad will let me keep it."

"I spoke with Captain Kirk this afternoon," Ben'yla said, "and he permitted it. Eventually, he'll keep it safe for you, but he agreed you could enjoy it until we get to the conference."

Jamie admired the stone for a few more minutes. Then she looked at Meyla. "I wonder why the Klingons want these."

Ben'yla and Meyla looked at her in puzzlement.

"The Klingons aren't the kind of people who'd go to such trouble to get you to trade only with them, just for these stones," Jamie explained. "They're not usually interested in things that serve no purpose."

"But the Seri Stones do serve a purpose." Ben'yla said. "The Klingons can buy the stones from us and sell them for whatever they want, to any world of the Federation or outside."

"Why don't you do that yourself?" Jamie asked. "You could make more money by not giving the trade to the Federation or the Klingons."

Ben'yla sighed. "Child, you raise questions others have raised. It is enough for you to know that we are trapped between two great powers in this galaxy. We are a simple people and prefer to keep to ourselves. By aligning ourselves with either the Federation or the Klingons, we are assured that we can stay on Jovita and mine the Seri stones. Someone else can distribute them, and the government who does will keep our planet safe from pirates, and from others who covet the wealth of our world."

Jamie made a face and let the Ice Flake fall from her palm. "Having the Klingons as that power is the same thing as having pirates. And I don't care if I'm not supposed to say anything bad about the Klingons. They're not nice. I bet you anything that what they're telling you and what they're thinking are two different things."

Ben'yla laughed. "The Federation delegation has hinted at what you're saying. You just come right out and say it. It's quite refreshing." He reached out and laid a gentle hand on Jamie's head. "All of this will come out at the conference next week. Until then, my children, off to bed with you."

That was how Jamie found herself lying in the lap of luxury for the night. She sighed in contentment and reached out to touch her Ice Flake, savoring the unearthly warmth it generated.

How in the world does it do that?

"Jamie?" Meyla asked in the dark.

"Hmm?"

"I've never had a friend spend the night."

"Neither have I," Jamie said.

"You haven't?"

"No. There aren't any other kids aboard the Enterprise."

"Do you get lonely?"

Jamie thought about it a moment. Then she said, "No. There are too many exciting things happening most of the time to think about playing with other kids."

She rolled over and faced her friend. In the dim light of the nightlight, she could just make out Meyla's face. "I wouldn't live anywhere else in the entire galaxy. I'll be sad when the Enterprise's five-year mission comes to an end. I hope we're not grounded. I want to sail the stars forever."

"But aren't you scared when the ship goes into battle?"

"Terrified!" Jamie admitted. "I've had a couple of close calls that nearly scared my dad into thinking about getting me off the ship—permanently. I've even been aboard a Klingon battle cruiser by accident, and I didn't like it much." She felt Meyla shiver.

Jamie sighed. "That's how I know Klingons can't be trusted, not when they want something badly. They wanted a mineral called topaline badly a year ago. So badly that the Klingon commander kept me aboard his ship to make my dad trade him the topaline for me."

Meyla caught her breath. "What happened?"

"A boy named Kerla rescued me," Jamie remembered. "We were friends. If not for him . . ." She let her words trail away. "Anyway, the Klingons seem to want these Seri Stones badly. That is not good."

"Do you think they want the stones badly enough to kill someone?" Meyla whispered.

Jamie had no doubts about that, but she didn't want to scare her friend. "Are you thinking of Chari?" she asked.

"Yes," Meyla said in a shaky voice. "I think maybe it was meant to be me. I'm scared, Jamie. I watched and listened at the inquiry this afternoon. The Federation did not do well in the eyes of my people, as much as Uncle would like your delegates to believe they did. I could sense the unrest, the uncertainty. They no longer feel safe aboard the Enterprise."

"That would be a great way to get you all to the Klingon ship," Jamie said in disgust. "Then they could influence you to make a deal with them." She sighed. "It figures."

"I do not want to leave you," Meyla said, "and I usually get what I want. However, if another incident occurs that threatens my life, I fear the Federation will forfeit any chance they might have had at securing the trading rights."

"It sounds like a sneaky Klingon trick to me." Jamie scowled in the dark. "But there aren't any nasty Klingons aboard the Enterprise who could have sabotaged the replicator."

"So, it must have been an accident, after all," Meyla said, "and perhaps the ship is not as safe as your father pretends."

"No," Jamie insisted. "My dad doesn't believe it was an accident. He thinks there's a killer aboard. That's why he put the ship on a security two alert."

"That frightens me even more. Could it one of your crew?"

"No way! Unless a Klingon sneaked aboard and dressed up as . . ." Her voice trailed off. "Wait a minute. That's it!" She sprang up in bed, fully awake. "What if there really is a Klingon spy aboard the Enterprise?"

"You just said there are no Klingons aboard the Enterprise, Jamie."

"That we know about."

"How would you hide a Klingon?" Meyla asked.

"They did it once on Space Station K-7." Jamie went on to explain the Klingon spy altered to appear human.

Meyla shivered. "What if it's true?"

"A spy would be easy to find. Dr. McCoy discovered the Klingon spy on K-7. He ran a bio-scan on everybody," Jamie said. "He could do it again, especially on the Federation Council members and the ambassadors. It's not hard to believe that someone from the council is the suspect. They're all grouchy."

"Or maybe it's that newswoman, what's her name?"

"No. She's the real Nan Rushmore. I've seen her lots of times before on the news." Jamie shook her head. "If I were going to guess, I'd bet my credits on that creepy woman, Marrid Feldman. She could easily be a Klingon spy."

"You can't accuse Ms. Feldman of being a Klingon spy just because you don't like her," Meyla said reasonably. "We better leave the investigation to your father's security officers."

"I know we should," Jamie agreed. "But security takes its own time about this stuff. A couple of years ago, we had someone aboard who killed an ambassador. It took security forever to track him down. They caught him only after he went after my dad. No," she decided with a shake of her head, "Security won't be quick to accuse anyone from the Federation Council, that's for sure."

"Yes," Meyla agreed. "It's called being diplomatic."

"Exactly. So . . . I think we should give security a little help."

"Why?"

Jamie shrugged. "Until that spy is caught, you and I won't be allowed to run around freely. A phase-two alert means guards at all the junctions, guards at all sensitive areas of the ships, and nobody allowed into those areas. All the best places I was going to show you are now off limits."

Meyla made no comment.

"If we could get some kind of evidence that one of the delegates is the spy, then I could tell my dad."

"How could we do that?"

Jamie pointed in the direction of the ventilation duct. "By doing a little spying of our own."

Meyla gasped. "We can't!"

"Why not? We just listen at the vents of certain people and see if they say anything interesting."

"Jamie!"

"Listen, Meyla. If we help catch the spy, we won't have to worry about a killer running around anymore. You and your people can stay aboard the ship, the security alert will be history, and we can explore all the best parts of the ship."

Meyla looked pale, but she nodded. "Okay. When should we do it?"

"Right now. Your guards and attendants think we're asleep. We can hang around a couple of room vents tonight, then a couple more tomorrow night, until we hear something."

The girls slid noiselessly out of bed and carried a small table to a spot under the vent. Using hand signals and whispers, they scurried onto the table and into the air duct with no difficulties.

"How do we know where we are?" Meyla whispered. "All these passages look alike."

"I know where I am," Jamie said in a low whisper. "Follow me."

They continued for a dozen meters and approached a square of light. Jamie held her finger to her lips as they slid quietly in front of the vent.

It was the councilor's quarters. He was dictating into his personal log. The man talked in a monologue about the results of the various briefings. Jamie looked at Meyla and rolled her eyes. Boring! she mouthed silently.

After ten minutes of this, Jamie slid farther down the vent.

"Let's try somebody else. It sure doesn't sound like he's planning anything. I about fell asleep listening to all that."

Meyla grinned, clearly adjusting to her friend's odd adventures. The next square of light came from Ms. Feldman's quarters. Jamie and Meyla recognized it at once from their earlier trip through the air ducts. They found positions and watched to see if anything interesting would happen.

"I don't think anybody's here," Meyla whispered, but Jamie poked her for silence.

Suddenly, the sound of a distressed voice came from another room. Marrid Feldman wandered past the duct. A small device was pressed to her ear; she held another device in her hand. "I don't care!" The words were sharp, demanding.

Jamie jumped at the sound and clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping.

She's not speaking Federation English! I can only understand her because of that translator in my arm. Her ears protested against the harsh, grating sounds coming from Ms. Feldman's mouth.

"Just arrange it and arrange it quickly." There was a pause. "No, I did not." Another pause. "Now, listen here. I will not be stuck over here while you're—" Marrid's voice became tense. She whirled around and faced the vent. Her face contorted in fury as she listened to an unseen voice. Then she relaxed.

"All right. Tomorrow. You'd better come through. I haven't much time." Another pause. "I will if I can, but I'm making no promises. They've tightened security since the disaster this afternoon." A click, then all was still as the woman paced hurriedly into the adjoining room.

Jamie pulled on Meyla's sleeve. "Let's go."

The princess needed no urging. They retraced their steps to the VIP quarters, slipped through the air duct, and fell into the safety of the huge bed. Meyla's face was white. She lay under the covers, shaking.

Jamie reached out a comforting hand. "It's okay, Meyla. Sure, it was a little chancy, but it was worth it. Ms. Feldman must be the Klingon agent. She was probably talking to someone from the Klingon ship."

"I'm scared," came the muffled reply. "If she is indeed a Klingon spy who wants to kill me or one of my people, then this is something the Council must hear about. But how can you be certain? If we accuse Ms. Feldman and she turns out to be innocent, how do you think that will affect the relationship between my people and the Federation? I am a princess. I do not have the privilege of accusing people of crimes based on so little evidence."

Meyla was right. But Jamie was convinced that Ms. Feldman was acting very suspiciously. "Would it hurt to at least let my dad know about it? Or Security?"

Meyla rolled over and pulled the covers closer around her shoulders. "I don't want to talk about it any longer."

Jamie hazarded a quick look at the chronometer. It was way past midnight. Her father wouldn't be up this late. But Security would be, especially now. They were on duty 'round the clock since the disaster.

She slipped out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Meyla asked.

"I'm going down to Security. They should know there's a person sneaking around, talking Klingon into a hand-held communication's device." She pulled off her nightgown and rummaged around for her tunic and pants.

"Please don't go. If you're wrong, we could get into a lot of trouble."

"I've got to go," Jamie insisted. She slipped her red shirt over her head and hastily pulled on her socks and shoes. "Are you coming?"

"No. And I doubt Uncle's guards will let you go wandering around this time of night."

"They can follow me then." Jamie opened the bedroom door to the main room of the VIP quarters. It was quiet, and the lights barely glowed. She padded softly toward the door and reached for the "unlock" button.

"Where are you going, Miss?"

Jamie nearly jumped out of her skin. A Jovetian guard hovered over her.

"I need to talk to Lieutenant Meyers."

"It is very late."

Jamie frowned. "You don't have to worry about me. I know the way."

"Advisor Ben'yla will be most distressed if I allow you to leave the safety of these quarters."

"Are you saying the Enterprise isn't safe?"

"No, Miss. It's just that the advisor thinks it best if—"

"I'm going down to Security. Come if you like." Jamie didn't mean to sound snippy, but she was tired and—if truth be told—scared.

The guard made no further objections.

Jamie hurried down to deck eleven and stepped into the Security office. With a sigh of relief, she saw Lieutenant Meyers, watch-officer for the newly created Delta shift, sitting at his desk. He was leafing through hard-copy reports of security postings. Every few minutes, a voice echoed through his comm link. He looked alert and professional.

"Lieutenant Meyers," Jamie said, standing before his desk.

Meyers's head snapped up. "What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?" He gave the Jovetian a brief nod of recognition and turned back to Jamie.

Jamie leaned over his desk. "I know who the Klingon spy is."

"Who said anything about Klingon spies?"

"It's Ms. Feldman," Jamie blurted, ignoring Meyers's question. "I heard her speaking Klingon into a handheld communications device. She must have sabotaged the replicator. You've got to do a bio-scan on her before she goes after somebody else."

Meyers did not smile. "If this is a joke, Cadet, your timing is lousy."

"It's not a joke. I promise. I heard her. I saw her."

Meyers glanced at the Jovitian guard, who said nothing. "It's against my better judgment to ask this question, but how could you have seen her?"

Jamie hesitated only a moment. "Meyla and I climbed into the air ducts a little while ago. We listened at Ms. Feldman's quarters and heard what she said into her—"

"Jamie Kirk!" Meyers leaped from his seat, shocked. "What lunacy is this? Spying from the ventilation system!"

Jamie flushed at the lieutenant's rebuke. "I . . . w-well," she stuttered.

"Let me get this straight." The lieutenant returned to his seat and motioned Jamie to sit down. She sat. "You want me to intrude upon the quarters of an aide to a high-ranking Federation Council member in the middle of the night? Arrest her? Make her submit to a bio-scan? On your word?"

Meyers ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you want to get me court-martialed or something?"

Jamie dropped her gaze to her lap and shook her head.

"Listen, Jamie," Meyers said quietly. "I know my job, and I'd appreciate it if you let me do it. Without hard evidence, I can't lock up anybody who looks suspicious, or anybody who happens to have a sour personality." He tapped his stylus against the countertop. "How much of this conversation did you hear? Ten minutes' worth?"

Jamie shook her head.

"Five minutes' worth?"

Another shake.

"Two minutes? Thirty seconds? Did it occur to you that she might be speaking into a device in her native tongue? A Federation tongue?"

Jamie hung her head. Lt. Meyers made it sound so reasonable. Did she dislike Ms. Feldman so much that she was willing to accuse her of being a murderer? All of a sudden, Jamie wasn't sure.

"Commander Stoddard is Security Chief," Meyers reminded her. "He plans on doing a discreet check on everyone, but these things take time. If you're worried about someone coming after the princess tonight, I'll post a guard in front of the VIP quarters." He turned back to his monitor. "Now, I suggest you go back to bed—on the double—and no more prowling about. Understood?"

"Clearly, sir," Jamie whispered. That sure didn't go very well.

Sighing in weariness and embarrassment, Jamie rose and made her way back to the VIP quarters to get what sleep she could before morning came.