Can you arrange that for me, through whoever you have who’s infiltrated their organization?”
Norinda grew reserved. “That would put lives at risk.”
Picard found that a startling reply. “Norinda, lives already are at risk. Tens of millions in this system alone. Billions in the two quadrants.”
Norinda appeared to be as confused as Picard felt. “Why should billions of lives in other systems be affected by what happens here?”
Picard sighed. For someone able to master a myriad of details of life on one planet, Norinda seemed curiously un-informed about interplanetary politics. And he had no time to educate her. “In this region of space, the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, each spacefaring culture is connected to the next. A war here will definitely reach out to involve other systems. Believe me. It will happen.”
A faraway look came to Norinda then. “I didn’t know,” she said. “Billions?”
Picard nodded, wondering how else he could get through to her the urgency of his request.
“Billions of people, needing love.” She smiled.
“Will you help me?” Picard demanded.
Norinda regarded him earnestly. “Of course I will. How can I not? We must bring peace to this world, and to Romulus, and to the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. We must bring peace to the galaxy.”
“Fine,” Picard said, steering firmly away from any further discussions of love. “Will you put me in contact with the Tal Shiar?”
“Certainly.”
“Thank you,” Picard said with honest relief. “When?”
Norinda paused to think.
“We only have three days,” Picard reminded her.
“More than enough time,” Norinda said. “The Tal Shiar have agents on Remus. I will arrange a meeting for later today.”
“Thank you,” Picard said again. He still had a chance.
From the other side of the chamber, someone called out for “the Jolara.”
Picard and Norinda both turned to see the young Romulan, Nran, running across the greenhouse chamber, La Forge beside him.
Nran stopped by Norinda, saluted her, gasped out, “Farr Jolan. There’s been an explosion. Sabotage.”
Picard stepped back as Norinda appeared to increase her height by several centimeters.
“Where?” she demanded, and her voice was deeper than it had been a moment ago.
“Processing Segment Three. The cargo terminal.” Nran nervously wiped at the curious patch of metallic gold under his left eye.
Norinda appeared to calm slightly when she heard the location. “What kind of ship?” she asked.
Nran held his fingers to the patch as if trying to remember. “A transport shuttle,” he said at last. “It jettisoned its warp pod…because…” His eyes popped open in surprise. “Kirk escaped.”
Norinda, Picard, and La Forge all said “What?” at the same time.
Nran squinted, keeping his fingers on the patch, and Picard concluded that it was part of some sort of subcutaneous communicator. “He and his friend…they stole a transport shuttle, blew up an ore hauler, then…then cloaked. They’re gone.” Nran shrugged. “And that’s all.”
Norinda smiled at Nran, and subtly became a younger, more voluptuous version of herself, even as her uniform grew more snug. Picard saw the yearning expression that swept over the young Romulan, knew what he must be feeling, remembered feeling that way himself.
“Thank you, Nran,” Norinda whispered.
Picard knew Nran couldn’t speak to save his life.
She took his hand, held it close in hers to make a fist, then held it to her heart.
Nran’s face flushed bright green. His mouth opened.
“Jolan True,” Norinda said, as soft as a kiss. Then she released his hand and he slowly backed away, unsteadily turned, and headed off in silence.
But by the time Norinda had turned her attention back to Picard, she had regained what Picard now thought of as her normal Romulan form.
“Kirk must have found his son,” she said.
Picard didn’t know how she had come to that conclusion. “Was his son reported to be with him?”
“No. But why else would he leave?”
“If he was being treated like us,” La Forge said, “then he was a prisoner. I’d say he escaped, but there’s no way he’s leaving without finding out what happened to Joseph.”
Norinda looked at Picard. “Do you agree?”
“Most assuredly,” Picard said. “In fact, I know exactly where Jim’s going. Because it’s where I’d go, too.”
Norinda smiled, and waited patiently.
Picard did not disappoint her.
20
ORBITAL REACHES, REMUS, STARDATE 57487.5
Kirk had found food packs in a cooler, and McCoy had found a medical kit with a Romulan compound that eased the discomfort in his legs. But the most restorative part of their flight to orbit was dialing back the shuttle’s gravity, eventually reaching Mars normal, one-third of Earth’s.
In the copilot’s seat, McCoy was thinking of a few more modifications to make life simpler in the future. “I might have to give up on my internal leg implants,” he mused. “Maybe face the inevitable and get a powered chair when we get back to Earth.”
Kirk moved his attention back and forth from the shuttle’s controls to the viewport, looking for anything out of the ordinary. So far so good, he thought. “That sounds encouraging.”
“Encouraging?” McCoy snorted. “Me in a hoverchair?”
“You’re talking about when we get back to Earth, Bones. That implies you expect we’ll find Joseph, Scotty, Jean-Luc and his crew and get out of this.”
“Well, of course we will.” McCoy patted Kirk’s shoulder. “Someone’s got your boy, Jim. I know as well as you do that you’d never let anyone get away with that. And I don’t care if I have to cut off my legs and crawl to get him back. So we are going to get him back. And everyone else. Even if we are a mite shorthanded.”
Kirk didn’t require, but appreciated, the additional confirmation that the greatest treasures his career and adventures had brought him were Joseph and his friends—his family. Spock’s loss remained raw.
McCoy seemed to sense what he was thinking. “I wish Spock was here, too.”
Kirk rallied with some effort. For Joseph’s sake, he had to focus on the present, not the past. “C’mon, Bones. You’re supposed to say, Spock’s the one who got us into this mess.”
“Exactly. Which is why I wish he was here, so I could tell him so, to his face.”
A chime sounded from the board and Kirk shifted in his chair to check the distance readings.
“Is that her?” McCoy asked. He leaned forward to peer through the viewport.
The Calypso floated a half-kilometer ahead of them. She had no running lights, and her navigation beacon was off, but her distinctive lines were just perceptible in the backscatter of light from the night side of Remus.
“Right where we left her,” Kirk said.
“You sound surprised.”
“Bones, we were told she was adrift. Generators out. No power.”
“You’re right,” McCoy exclaimed. “Scotty said the boarding party shot her up.”
“But there she is,” Kirk said. “In trim. And the passive sensors show she’s warm.”
The captain and the doctor looked at each other.
Kirk was already planning his next move. He knew he couldn’t risk using active sensors while cloaked. The
