Gardens in the Rain, chapter 12
Uhura sat at the desk in French's quarters and carefully assembled the communication device Scotty had found under a pile of clothing. She couldn't get over the amount of harm this crude little thing had done and French's audacity at actually putting it in her dresser drawer. If she, Uhura, had wanted to hide something like this, she could have thought of a hundred better places to put it.
Finally satisfied that it would transmit at a poor enough quality to avoid arousing Torsall's suspicion but a high enough quality to provide them with a legible recording, she nodded at Admiral Kirk, who was standing nearby with Captain Ames and Spock.
"All right," she said. "We're ready. Where is French?"
"She's in the corridor with Lenox."
"Do you think she'll be able to do it?"
"Yes, I do. She's madder than hell at Torsall for lying about the 'Klingon invasion.' Turns out that he put her in contact with the Orions after having filled her head with thoughts of their lovely life together in the Empire."
Uhura shook her head in mock consternation. "Mmmm mmmm. Poor girl. Succumbing to the vagaries of love, led astray by the smooth promises of a dishonest man."
Kirk and Ames both laughed, but Spock frowned slightly as if surprised by her statement. She grinned to let him know that she was just kidding.
Walking toward the door, Ames said, "Let's not feel too sorry for this 'poor girl.' She almost made space dust out of all of you. Commander Lenox? You can bring her in now."
French seemed very small as she was escorted to her seat. While her manner was openly defiant, there was an air of vulnerability beneath, and Uhura hoped that they weren't making a mistake in letting her speak with Torsall. What if that con man convinced her that he wasn't lying? She'd blow open their entire investigation if she changed her allegiance again. Nothing to be done for it now. Uhura flipped the switch that would start the recording.
"Crewman French," Kirk said, carefully enunciating each word, "you are to contact Torsall at his office on Nistras Three. Tell him the Lexington discovered that there is no Klingon base near Epsilon Triana. Tell him you know that he was lying, and if he doesn't tell you the truth you'll go to the authorities. Be firm. Don't give him any more information than that, and don't improvise. Do you understand?"
She nodded, and Kirk said, "Speak for the record. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
Kirk stepped away from the desk and joined the others, who were clustered at the side of the small room.
French hunkered over her little receiver and activated the frequency that Uhura had prepared earlier. After a moment, a cool feminine voice said, "Torsall Industries. How may I help you?"
"I need to speak with Nolan Torsall," said French.
The smooth voice replied, "I am sorry, but Mr. Torsall is busy at the moment. Please leave your name and the nature of your call, and someone from our office will contact you."
"You don't understand. I want to talk to Nolan Torsall, and I want to talk to him now. My name is Doris French, and he will talk to me."
There was a long pause on the other end, but finally the voice said, "I will give him your name. Please hold."
A moment later, a male voice boomed out into the room. "Doris! What a pleasant surprise! I'm so glad to hear from you, my dear. What's up?"
"I'll tell you what's up, Nolan. You lied to me! The Lexington just checked out Epsilon Triana, and nothing is there."
"Really? Nothing?" Torsall said with false heartiness. "How could that be? That's as big a shock to me as it is to you."
"Stop it! Don't keep lying to me, you asshole. You said you loved me, and that we'd be together. If you don't tell me the truth, I'm going to take my information to the Federation. Then we'll see who gets the last laugh."
"You don't want to do that, Doris," Torsall said menacingly.
"Yes! I want to, and I will! Tell me now."
"All right. You want the truth? I'll tell you the truth. You're a stupid bitch, and I knew from the moment I met you that you were weak and incompetent. Where would you be without me? You'd still be cruising the bars in Hong Kong. Before you start talking to the Federation about me, remember what I know about you. Prostitution is illegal on Earth. Do you really think that anyone will believe a lying whore like you?"
Uhura looked up at Spock. This was incredible! She could tell by the sound of Torsall's voice that they had him. A megalomaniac like this would spill everything, gloating over his superiority with no regard for someone he perceived as nothing better than gutter trash.
French paused, and when she spoke, her voice was deadly in its intensity. "I don't care what happens to me anymore, Nolan. I just want to see you pay for what you did. Remember who brought you down when they lock you away."
"You're even more stupid than I thought, French. Do you think the Federation will ever put me away? I'm so much smarter than they are. Why, they don't even know that I sold them a worthless mine."
Kirk exchanged quick looks with Spock as Torsall laughed, and then he grabbed Lenox's padd and scribbled something. He shoved it under French's nose, and when Uhura narrowed her eyes, she could just barely make it out.
Tell him you know about mine. You want share of profit. Find out why Klingons involved.
She nodded, then hissed, "I know about your little mine, Nolan. Did the Federation make you a rich man? If you don't give me half of your profits, I'm going to tell them about that."
Torsall didn't reply immediately, and French smiled in satisfaction. After a moment, he said, "Now, Doris. You don't want money. You just want to be a part of my life. I'm going to be leaving here in five days. Why don't we meet somewhere? I made a big mistake with you, and I'm sorry. Let's go back to the way we were."
"Why, Nolan? Why the sudden change in attitude?"
"Please, baby. Don't go to the Federation about the mine. Let me convince you. You want nice things? A big house? You name it. Just give me five days, and everything will be taken care of. We won't have to worry about the mine, ever again. And don't forget, when they discover that you were passing information to the Klingons, you'll be even guiltier than me. They'll 'rehabilitate' you so thoroughly you won't even know your name."
French frowned and looked up at Kirk, but he shrugged and gestured for her to continue.
"Uh... What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.
The wheedling tone in Torsall's voice was replaced by a calculating one, as if he knew he had uncovered a weakness. "Why, when the Klingons destroy the Federation's operation here, they'll trace the betrayal right back to you. I made sure of that. Except for you, the only person who knows my name is my partner on Orion. So, when the Klingons attack this planet, thinking they're destroying a covert Starfleet operation, they'll wipe out all evidence of the fact that I sold a worthless mine to the Federation."
Kirk caught French's attention and made a cutting gesture across his throat. She shook her head, and Uhura saw Kirk and Spock exchange worried glances.
"You wanted me dead, Nolan," French said with a tremor in her voice. "You knew I'd be discovered, and that's why you gave me that suicide bomb. It would destroy the evidence linking you to the Klingons, me included. If I meet you in a few days, what will you do? Will you kill me then? Eventually? Well, it won't happen! I'll take care of you! It doesn't matter what happens to me! Watch your back—"
Kirk gestured wildly to Uhura, who jumped forward and cut the connection. Turning toward Ames, he said, "Tell the security team to beam down now. Tell them that Torsall may be expecting them and may be dangerous." He watched as Ames spoke into his communicator, then nodded once at Lenox. "Take her back to the brig."
Lenox grasped French's arm and marched her out of the room. Uhura looked over at Kirk as she began to take apart the communications device.
"Do you think we have him?" she asked.
"Yes. There's more than enough information on that recording to nail him."
"Fascinating," said Spock. "Evidently, he knowingly sold the Federation a worthless mine, then attempted to cover his tracks by persuading the Klingons to attack via his Orion contact. As soon as Torsall is in custody, we must contact Starfleet Command. I assume that they will want us to verify our facts before we tell the Klingons, for the Klingon military will not be receptive to our suggestion that they, also, were the subject of an ambitious deception."
Uhura nodded. "Well, from what Torsall said, the Klingons won't attack for five more days. Since he would want to save his own skin but hasn't left yet, I'd say that's a pretty reliable figure."
"Admiral Kirk." Ames motioned Kirk over next to him. "My security team just reported that they're in the Torsall Industries building. They met with no resistance. We should hear from them at any moment."
Leaning close to Spock, Uhura touched him gently on the arm and murmured, "I wonder if Torsall was responsible somehow for getting French back into Starfleet. Imagine—from prostitution to service aboard the Enterprise!"
Spock stiffened and pulled away from her touch. "I would not put it beyond him."
She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape. Why had he pulled away like that? Before she could make him meet her eyes, Ames' communicator beeped.
"Ames here."
"Captain Ames? This is Goya. We have Torsall and are beaming back to the ship."
"Good job, Goya. Take our prisoner to the brig. We'll meet you there."
Throwing one more perplexed look Spock's way, Uhura picked up the recording equipment and followed Admiral Kirk out of the room.
...
Nyota was very quiet as she moved around her quarters. As a matter of fact, she had said only thirty-three words to him since the early afternoon, and those had all been in the line of duty. He assumed that she was displeased, but he did not know why.
Placing his elbows on her desk, he returned his attention to the padd in his hands. Mr. Scott had reported a point six percent drop in engine efficiency since their arrival in orbit, but neither Spock nor Scott had determined the reason so far.
He heard her voice in the other room. "Computer. Play 'Nocturnes' by Claude Debussy, first movement, 'Nuages.'"
The soft, chromatic tones slid through the air. Frowning slightly, he tightened his lips and focused on the padd. Perhaps if he adjusted the rate of reaction in the intermix chamber, here, just so...
An oboe wrapped its mysterious melody around the hollow harmonies beneath and intruded on his deconstruction of the formula. He placed the padd on the desk in frustration.
"Nyota?"
She answered from the other room. "Yes?"
"I am attempting to concentrate on fuel equations. May I turn off the music?"
Coming to the doorway, she tilted her head. "It's bothering you?"
"I find it distracting, yes."
"You listen to music often while you work. Why does this distract you all of a sudden? How about if I switch to Mozart? Vivaldi? Bach?"
Detecting a note of sarcasm in her voice, he eyed her cautiously. "If it is so important that you listen to Debussy, go ahead."
The oboe sang its sinuous song again.
"No, I want to talk about this. Computer, OFF!"
Startled, he had to force himself not to react to her unexpected increase in volume. He turned off the padd and pushed it to the side. "Very well. About what do you wish to speak?"
Throwing herself into the chair on the other side of the desk, she said, "I want to know why you wouldn't let me touch you today."
He blinked at her sudden change in topic, but finally said, "I thought we were going to discuss my inability to appreciate Debussy to your satisfaction."
"No, I want to know why you got all stiff and formal, and pulled away from me."
"I prefer not to be touched. You know that."
"But I've always touched you! I'm a touchy sort of person. I touch everyone. It never bothered you before. Why now?"
"Before, we were not intimately involved. It is inappropriate—"
"As far as everyone else is concerned, nothing has changed! It's not like I'm grabbing you or throwing myself at you. Hell, remember back when we were just getting to know each other? When I sang with you in the rec lounge? I used to touch you all the time."
Without stopping to consider the effect of his words, he blurted out, "Yes! You did! But I was not comfortable telling you to stop."
Her eyes big, she grew quiet then looked away, and he knew immediately that he had committed a grave error.
"Nyota, I am sorry. I did not mean that."
Her face still averted, she whispered, "Oh, Spock. What's happening to us? Every time we're alone together, we bicker. We've been pretending that everything is fine, but except for the first few days, nothing has been right between us this entire visit. And now that I think about it, I see that it even started during our trip to England. You've become so distant recently." She faced him and rested her palms on the edge of the desk. "You're withdrawing from me, Spock, a centimeter at a time. You hold me at arm's length, and the harder I push, the more you close yourself away."
Tightening his lips, he straightened. He did not know how to respond to this.
She searched his eyes. "You close yourself away. Just. Like. That."
He still did not answer, and finally she dropped her hands and leaned back in the seat. Her manner defeated, she said, "I'm getting ready for bed. You can join me if you want, or you can return to the Enterprise. I hope that you'll stay. We may only have another day or two together, and then who knows when we'll see each other again."
He watched as she walked back to the bedroom, then rose and followed.
...
"Oh..."
Running her hands around his shoulders, she rubbed her cheek against the side of his head as he slid his lips across her neck. She had felt so desolate earlier, but when he had pulled her close without speaking, she had gone to him joyfully, a quiet relief buoying her spirit, and she wanted nothing more now than to lose herself with him. His body felt so good next to hers, it seemed like an eternity since he had touched her like this, she could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh...
He moved slightly, covering her body with his own, and she couldn't stop the small whimper before it escaped from her throat.
He drew away. "Did I hurt you?"
She clutched her side and squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes, I'm sorry, but that really hurt. I guess my injury isn't quite healed enough for this yet."
"Forgive me, Nyota. I did not mean to hurt you. Do you need to see Dr. McCoy?"
"No, no. It's nothing," she gasped. After a moment, the pain lessened to a dull ache, and she opened her eyes. "If you want, I can take care of you."
"No, of course not. You are not yet healed. Perhaps you will feel better tomorrow."
She rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, I hope so."
"As do I."
His arm around her back, he held her so tight that she was afraid he would hurt her again, but she didn't tell him to stop. She wanted him to hold her close forever. They lay like that, neither speaking, until finally he kissed the top of her head, released her, and rolled away. She looked at his back for a long time, then closed her eyes.
End chapter 12