Free Gemini by Mike W. Barr

McCoy, in that martyr’s voice whose tone belied his words, “but hasn’t it occurred to you that it was only by a near-miracle that the princes weren’t at least injured in the palace riot? If that mob had gotten to them—” He shook his head, drained his glass, and poured himself another couple of fingers after all.
    â€œI believe the captain is well aware of that, Doctor,” said Spock, looking at Kirk with the same expression he used when facing him across a chessboard. “In fact, I might go so far as to say that the captain is counting on such an occurrence.”
    â€œThat’s going a little far, Spock,” said Kirk, sipping brandy and feeling its fire prowl through him. He rose, pacing back and forth. “While I agree it’s my personal desire to see whoever is agitating the rioters—not to mention who was behind the attack on my ship—”
    â€œWhich is almost certainly the same party,” said Spock.
    â€œâ€”which is almost certainly the same party, yes. While I would very much like to see them identified and brought to trial, I would be only slightly less satisfied if they faded into space and were never heard from again. The threat to the princes’ lives and to the stability of Nador must be our primary concern.”
    â€œNot much chance of them fading away,” said McCoy. “We’ve seen too many of their type, over too many planets.”
    â€œI unfortunately agree,” said Kirk. “And it follows that, given the … efficiency of their kind, that the easiest way to destabilize Nador and blacken the eye of the Federation would be to kill the princes. Regicide.”
    â€œActually, that term refers precisely to the murder of a king, from its root, regis, from your Latin,” said Spock. “Barbaric, but often effective.”
    â€œBrutally so, Spock. Faced with that probability, then, doesn’t it make sense to bring the princes to an environment where we can virtually assure their continued good health?”
    â€œLogical,” said McCoy, not looking at Spock.
    â€œIndeed,” said Spock, emptying his glass and placing it on Kirk’s desk. “And if some sort of attempt is made on the lives of the princes while they are aboard the Enterprise —”
    â€œThen we’ll have greatly narrowed the field of suspects, won’t we?” smiled Kirk, refilling his officers’ glasses and hoisting his own. “Gentlemen, to success.”
    Both Spock and McCoy drank to the sentiment, but it seemed to Kirk that neither looked particularly confident.
    * * *
    It took some persuading to get everyone on board—literally as well as figuratively. Kirk knew that Princes Abon and Delor would virtually leap at the chance to accept Kirk’s invitation to come aboard the Enterprise, but, as always seemed to be the case in these matters, the most direct course was the one most ensnarled by red tape. Kirk first issued the invitation through Commissioner Roget’s office, who would in turn extend it to Regent Lonal, for eventual transmission to Their Royal Highnesses.
    So in the end, Kirk was not surprised to have his invitation turned down. He would not have been surprised to find that it had never made it past Regent Lonal to Their Royal Highnesses.
    â€œYou played your best cards,” said McCoy. “Now what do we do?”
    â€œWe’re not out of aces yet,” replied Kirk, with a sly smile that made McCoy feel sorry for whoever it was directed at. “Bones, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to pay a social call on Yeoman Barrows.”
    â€œAnd what way should I take it?” said McCoy, irritably.
    * * *
    â€œPataal?”
    â€œThis is she.” The voice of the young consort sounded through the speaker. “Who is this?”
    â€œIt’s Tonia. Tonia Barrows. I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind if I called you on your