Inside the fissure, the space opened up into a cavern. As McCoy's eyes began to adjust to the dark, he could see faint light seeming to emanate from the walls, supplemented by a few lightsticks. The glow was enough to illuminate a rough stair hewn into the rock. Ludedmi pointed. "Up there," he said. "Step carefully, it is steep."
McCoy followed Uboq and they began to climb, Ludedmi bringing up the rear. It was narrow, but he had good balance and was not afraid of heights. Although thin, he was strong and fit, meeting Starfleet physical fitness requirements with ease. Still, he had to use his hands frequently and his breathing became more labored with the exertion. The steps extended up the rock face for less than fifteen meters, but he was exhausted and winded by the time he reached the small landing at the top. Uboq had turned around and was waiting, sneering as he climbed the last step. For a moment, McCoy thought the Klingon was going to push him off the edge, but he turned to the left and they entered through a narrow door.
The new chamber was brighter, and, to his relief, warmer. McCoy looked around, his eyes widening in surprise as he struggled to breathe. He had no idea where he had expected to find himself, but not in a state of the art lab hidden in a rock cave on that deserted planet. There were several tables and stations, all loaded with sophisticated equipment and computers. Under other circumstances, he would have been eager to explore such a well-equipped set up. In one corner he noticed a square box which was attached to electrodes connected to a cap like device. Somehow he knew it was a Klingon mind sifter. He could almost see the evil surrounding it. He suppressed a shudder and looked away.
Uboq laughed, pushing him toward a chair, then left through a second door at the rear of the room. McCoy concentrated on breathing, counting his racing pulse. He flexed his fingers, noticing his ring was tight. Hypoxia. Tachycardia. Headache. Peripheral edema. Internal Doctor silently tallied the symptoms of altitude sickness as McCoy took a careful look around the lab. While it contained the usual assortment of labware, beakers, graduated cylinders and the like, he doubted he would have the physical strength to use them as a weapon against Ludedmi. The Orion was bigger than him, tall, muscular, and moved with assured alertness.
Ludedmi studied McCoy for a minute. "You are in physical distress."
McCoy saw no reason to disagree. "It's the thin atmosphere."
Ludedmi crossed the room, unlocking a cabinet. He returned with McCoy's medical kit. "Does this contain medication for your condition?"
McCoy nodded, feverishly recalling what he knew about Orion physiology, wondering if his kit contained a sedative that would be quick-acting enough to knock Ludedmi out instantly. He reached for his kit, but Ludedmi shook his head, stepping back and opening the pouch himself. "Show me."
Evidently Ludedmi was not taking any chances. "There are three." He pointed out a hypo containing tri-ox, another with the tazocap, and finally the one containing the special anesthetic drug he compounded for Spock. Ludedmi carefully extracted them from the holder, laying them on the table next to McCoy.
"Administer the medication."
McCoy picked up the Tri-ox hypo, pushed up his sleeve, dialed the dose and injected it while Ludedmi watched. In a moment, he felt the the welcome rush of new oxygen as his hemoglobin responded and his pulse began to ease from its bounding. He picked up the other two together, shooting himself with the tazocap, then dialing a hefty dose of anesthetic, quickly weighing the options. Ludedmi was standing out of reach. Rushing him seemed out of the question, somehow he would have to get him to move closer. He decided to 'faint' and fall to the floor, hoping he would move within reach. He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the hypo.
McCoy caught a movement in his peripheral vision, turning to see Uboq re-enter the room, and realized his slim chance had evaporated. Surprise sedation was a one time one person trick. He might remove Ludedmi from the equation, then Uboq would probably kill him. Ludedmi was watching him closely, waiting for him to finish. He aborted his plan for the time being, retracted the dose and pushed the hypo against his arm in a dry fire. The discharge sound was different, but he hoped the Orion wouldn't notice or understand the change.
"You will need this medication again?"
"Yes. At four hour intervals." McCoy heard the Klingon utter a derisive snort.
"Place them on the table."
McCoy did so, watching as they were returned to the kit and stowed back in the cabinet.
"Humans are weak creatures," Uboq said. "You can't defend yourself, can't even breathe without help. I cannot fathom what use you will serve here. But perhaps when they are done with you, I can teach you a thing or two." He grinned. "Do you think you can learn new tricks? With some persuasion? Yes?"
McCoy didn't reply, but he thought he heard a sigh of frustration or disapproval from Ludedmi. Dissension within the ranks could possibly work to his advantage, he thought, if he could somehow exploit those differences. The problem was either captor, presumably including those he hadn't yet seen, would surely just as soon see him dead as alive. He had no doubt that was the end plan at any rate, once they deemed his usefulness was finished. They certainly wouldn't be returning him to Starfleet with their gratitude. He wondered what they wanted from him, hoping he would find out soon. He was sore and his head and shoulder ached, although his breathing had greatly improved and his altitude sickness symptoms had abated. He realized he was almost uncomfortably warm.
"I need to take off my coat." He addressed Ludedmi, who nodded his consent. McCoy saw him looking at the dried blood on his wrists, but made no comment as he shrugged out of his coat, laying it on the table beside him.
Ludedmi gestured to Uboq. "Restrain him."
Uboq moved forward with a set of shackles, wide bands and chains. He roughly pulled off McCoy's boots and fastened cuffs just above his ankles. There was enough play between them to allow him to take shuffling steps. The leg and arm restraints were connected by a chain, and his hands were bound in front of him. Again, there was looseness that allowed him some movement. He dimly remembered seeing such devices in old movies, thinking them barbaric. The reality was worse than he imagined.
Ludedmi reached for a PADD, extending it toward him. "You are to examine this data."
When he didn't reach for the tablet, Uboq drew his knife, almost casually holding the point at McCoy's neck, barely touching. The Klingon smiled, leaning close. "It would be to your advantage to cooperate."
"No. My compliance would benefit you." The blade press harder as Uboq's face darkened with anger. He held still. "If you cut my throat, you still won't get what you want."
Uboq snarled and McCoy felt a trickle of blood dripping in a hot trail down his neck.
Ludedmi's arm shot across in a blur just inches in front of McCoy's face, and the knife flew clattering across the floor. Uboq transferred his attention to the Orion, enraged, as his hand reached for the disruptor hanging on his belt. Ludedmi was quicker, and the Klingon found himself staring into a drawn phaser. He froze, and neither spoke for a few seconds. Uboq stepped back, lowering his hands to his side.
"I can make him cooperate," Uboq said sullenly.
Ludedmi slowly returned his phaser to his holster, his eyes never leaving the Klingon. "You may get that chance," he said, "but not at this moment."
"How very wise of both of you."
McCoy recognized the whispery voice immediately as Vartheb moved from behind the door, phaser in hand. Evidently he had been watching the altercation, with plans to step in, McCoy thought. He wondered whose side would have received intervention.
Vartheb motioned toward the outside door where the three of them had a quick discussion in hushed voices. McCoy could not hear what was said, but Vartheb's body language and antennae waving seemed to indicate an excitement, one perhaps not shared by Ludedmi or Uboq, although the Klingon, still angered at being outdone and outdrawn, radiated mostly hostility toward everyone.
Vartheb sent the other two out, returning to McCoy alone. They eyed each other for a moment, then Vartheb crossed the room, taking something from the locked cabinet, then taking a seat at the closest table. He set McCoy's medical tricorder on the table.
"I am sure you recognize this, Doctor?"
"It's a medical tricorder."
"Your tricorder."
"They're all similar."
"Yesss." His antennae pointed toward McCoy, as all his attention focused on the doctor. "All similar. None quite like this one, with this information." He opened the cover, his movements almost delicate, and hit the power switch. The screen glowed ready. Vartheb was evidently used to a Starfleet interface. He immediately brought up a file, looking at it closely, then turned the screen toward McCoy. "Tell me about this."
McCoy leaned forward. The screen showed the biologic signature from the talon he had removed from Little Birdie. He schooled his features in neutrality to hide his surprise.
He shrugged. "What do you want to know about it?"
Vartheb's antennae twitched in irritation. "Do not play foolish. I know this is genetic code, code from the flying creatures."
"Yes, but it's nothing unusual. Every living organism carries its own. This is simply a map, a blueprint for this particular creature."
Vartheb scrolled through more files, pausing again. "And this?"
McCoy glanced at the screen. It was the preliminary lab report on the defkato sample. His mind raced, hunting for the connection. "I'm sure you know what that is, too."
"Tell me anyway."
"That is a routine lab report on the substance you were inhaling while you were on board the Enterprise."
"What is your interest in these things?"
McCoy's brow lowered in a frown as he looked at Vartheb, a little perplexed by the cant of questioning. He though back to his own disquiet concerning the defkato, the feeling he had missed something. That disquiet was now a roar in his head.
"Of course we ran tests on the defkato. As a respiratory irritant, it posed a threat to our Human crew."
"And the other?"
"Routine data collecting upon discovering a new species."
"One new species among several. You have data on only one. There are others here on the planet. Yet you have compiled information on one single life form. Why not all? Of more significance, why this particular species? What is its importance to you? Or to Starfleet?"
"There is none, beyond our mission statement to discover new life."
"You are not being truthful, Doctor." Vartheb's antennae drooped a little.
"What is your interest in the birds?"
McCoy was not expecting an answer, but Vartheb replied immediately.
"Until recently we had no concern in them." His antennae swiveled first as he nodded toward the PADD on the table, untouched since McCoy had declined to examine whatever data it contained. "You might find this intriguing. It may answer your inquiry. Or perhaps you will find new questions rather than answers."
McCoy slowly reached for the PADD, telling himself looking was not the same as capitulation. The chains on his arm restraints scraped across the table in a clanking dirge as he powered the tablet and began to read.
