From Leader Sarvus and Vice-Leader Chellea down to the lowest-ranking official present (a representative from one of the outlying Briamosite worlds), the assembled alien officials received the address quietly. Occasionally they would nod or jerk their heads in meaningful but indecipherable fashion, or lean over to whisper briefly to some colleague. They did not interrupt, with either applause or boos, or with questions or comments.
When Sulu-spock concluded the speech and sat down, Chellea responded with a short paragraph of thanks, then asked Kumara to present his side. The Klingons' executive officer acknowledged his captain's nod, rose, and loudly proclaimed the Klingons' hopes and intentions.
Kirk bristled at some of the claims and outright falsehoods contained in the speech, but restrained himself. First of all, it wasn't Lieutenant Sulu's place—the body he occupied—to raise objections unless his comments were specifically requested. Secondly, Kirk knew that they would have ample time later to counter the Klingon arguments and make objections of their own.
Looking smug and satisfied, Kumara's first officer concluded his speech in a burst of fiery rhetoric accusing the Federation of intending everything for Briamos from child-stealing to slavery, and resumed his seat. His smile shrank considerably when, much to the surprise of both parties, the Briamosite officials removed tiny devices from beneath their portion of the table. On touching controls, each instrument regurgitated long scroll-like strips of plastic opacity imprinted with dots and dashes and curlicues. Both Kirk and Kumara expected that their words would be somehow preserved, but they hadn't expected each official to make his or her own personal record. It displayed a thoroughness Kirk had not given the Briamosites credit for. He should have.
After thoughtful inspection of their individual scrolls, the officials looked up at their visitors. And the questions began. They favored neither side. The assembled Briamosites fired questions rapidly, almost impatiently, at the respective speechmakers.
Both Kumara's executive officer and Sulu-spock responded as best as they could. Once, another Klingon officer replied to a question from Vice-Leader Chellea when the executive officer seemed at a loss for words. That was what Kirk had been hoping for. When the Briamosites offered no objection to the new speaker, it meant that he, in Sulu's body, and Spock, in Uhura's, could now offer their own expertise during the questioning.
So as the questioning continued relentlessly, when "Spock" or "Kirk" appeared slow to respond or unsure of certain answers, Kirk felt this was more than made up for by the impressive speed with which the two subofficers, Lieutenants Sulu and Uhura, answered the queries. Indeed, even the Klingons appeared impressed by the literate, thorough responses the two Federation lieutenants provided in response to certain difficult questions posed.
Once, a particularly unsubtle inquiry was made by one of the Briamosite officials in regard to the depth and preparedness of the Federation's armed forces, in reference to something the Klingon executive officer had mentioned in his speech. Everyone was surprised when communications officer Lieutenant Uhura responded. They were more than surprised, they were astonished at the lengthy list of impressive figures, details, and placements—all unclassified—which were provided, seemingly with effortless recall.
Kumara in particular eyed Uhura curiously, wondering at the apparently unrehearsed expertise she had demonstrated in a matter not related to communications.
"Isn't it a fact, Lieutenant," Kumara said quickly, when Spock-uhura had finished reeling off the stunning array of statistics, "that the starship grouping monitoring Starbase Fourteen was removed only two months ago because that section and the races in it weren't thought worth protecting by Federation officials?"
Kirk watched Spock-uhura closely without trying to betray his concern. Kumara had concocted a tricky question. It was true, as the Klingon had claimed, that Starfleet forces had been withdrawn from that sector recently. But that had nothing to do with not wanting to extend protection to federated peoples in that area. However, it did show the extent and efficiency of Klingon intelligence.
Actually, the ships had been transferred to airdock for normal maintenance and overhauling and were scheduled to return to their positions in another two months. But it looked, if one viewed the matter as Kumara did, as if the Federation was guilty of indifference to the people of Sector 14, or at least of gross negligence. Kumara could argue that the reappearance of Starfleet vessels in that sector now would be a Federation attempt to cover their error and curry favor with the Briamosites.
Sometimes, however, when the best-laid plans of mice and men went awry, they could lead to equally efficacious new plans. Such was the case now, as Spock turned a physical disadvantage into an advantage. "I cannot answer you, Captain Kumara," Spock-uhura claimed. "A communications officer is not privy to such detailed information about military maneuvers. Since it doesn't pertain to my specialty, I can't confirm or deny your report. Ship movements are more in the province of navigation."
Kirk promptly picked up his cue. "I'll be glad to check on unclassified movements in Sector Fourteen and report back to this assembly," Kirk-sulu declared. "I do know that ships are often called from duty for standard maintenance." He looked at his own body. "Isn't that true, Captain?"
"I am not permitted to confirm information of such a sensitive military nature," Uhura-kirk replied, fast enough to earn an order of merit.
There! Those multiple responses countered Kumara's accusation while leaving the facts sufficiently ambiguous to forestall the need of a specific reply.
Kumara accepted his semantic defeat with good grace. It was only one of dozens of similar verbal battles that would be contested across the conference table before the day's session drew to an exhausted end.
The session went on into the early Briamosite evening, which was later in arriving than that of a normal twenty-four-hour human day. The setting sun of Briamos was turning the sandstone parapets across the bay to ribbons of grainy flame, and lights were winking on on the pleasure craft circling beneath them, by the time the questioning finally came to an end.
Uhura-kirk rose. "If there are no more questions from our hosts—"
Kirk-sulu broke in hurriedly, "One more item on today's agenda . . . Captain."
Uhura-kirk recovered quickly. "I was about to bring it up, Lieutenant." She remained standing, gestured toward him. "The presentation and display."
Kirk-sulu felt relief he didn't show. Standing and picking up the crate they had brought from the ship, he moved between the table horns.
"A stand or small pedestal of some sort will be helpful, sirs," he told the Council, directing his voice toward Pliver.
The Colonel-Greeter wagged his left ear, touched a switch set into the table before him. A section of seamless wall slid aside, revealing a pair of huge, armed Briamosite soldiers. The Colonel-Greeter barked instructions at them. They vanished into the wall, reappeared moments later with a single-stemmed pedestal-table.
Kirk wasn't surprised by the presence of the armed troops. Such grim visages were present to insure that in the event the conference didn't continue in an atmosphere of sweetness and light, the Briamosite hosts would be protected from Klingon-Federation belligerence. Automatic weaponry would have been more efficient, but the presence of live troops would be effective enough, he knew.
"You can show it at any time, Lieutenant Sulu," Uhura-kirk told him.
"Yes, sir."
Picking up the container, he placed it on the pedestal and began unsnapping the side and top panels. When the last latch had been flipped, he touched a switch in the base of the container. Dramatically, the top and all four sides fell away simultaneously, revealing the glowing stasis box.
Expressions of amazement filled the chamber. They came not from the phlegmatic Briamosites, but from Kumara and his officers.
"What is this artifact you have brought to show us?" Leader Sarvus inquired, eyeing the box intently.
Kirk-sulu went on to explain about the ancient, extinct civ
ilization of the Slavers and the isolated relics of their culture, the stasis boxes, which were occasionally discovered in scattered parts of the galaxy. As the story continued, several of the Briamosite officials wagged their ears in recognition and appeared more and more impressed. That meant that the wonders of the stasis boxes were at least known to the people of Briamos.
"As you can see," Kirk concluded, gesturing with Sulu's hand at the softly glowing cube of Slaver metal, "this stasis box has not yet been opened. It could contain an ultimate weapon, any kind of valuable device, or nothing at all. But to show you our good faith and our confidence in the people of Briamos, we've brought it here for you to see."
"Even though," Uhura-kirk added meaningfully, "we knew there would be Klingons present."
"It's a fake!" Kumara rose angrily, trying to divide his attention between Kirk-sulu, the box, and Leader Sarvus. "They wouldn't dare bring a real, unopened stasis box here to display on an unallied world. Especially," he added with a loaded grin of his own, "knowing that there would be representatives of Klingon present."
When neither Sulu-spock, Spock-uhura, or Uhura-kirk elected to respond to Kumara's accusation, Kirk decided to risk appearing a bit authoritative.
"If one of your officers has at his waist a standard-issue imperial science 'corder, you can see for yourselves."
Kumara stared curiously at Sulu's form for a moment, then shrugged, his mind too busy with more important matters to follow up the impossible suspicion that had briefly occurred to him. He eyed one of his subordinates. "Kaldin. Let him use yours." He looked at Sulu. "I assume you'd prefer to run the analysis yourself, Lieutenant, rather than let one of my men near your precious 'stasis' box?"
Kirk-sulu nodded, walked over to the Klingons, and took the compact instrument from the glaring officer who proffered it. Carefully he passed the device over the box, making certain the setting on the instrument was not set too deep, where it could pick up traces of the metal within, modern metals which Scott had used in constructing the Slaver-field falsifier. He also avoided the edges around the top of the box, where Scott had resealed it.
Then he turned and handed it back to the Klingon officer, walked back to stand next to the pedestal, and waited. There was a chance he might have mispassed the 'corder, that it might have detected a hint of the chief engineer's handiwork.
Apparently he hadn't. The Klingon officer read the readouts on the device, performed a few hasty calculations with a separate instrument, conferred with the other subofficer on his left, and turned a grim, solemn gaze on his captain.
"Sir, the box is Slaver metal."
"You're certain of that, Kaldin?" Kumara asked tensely.
"There can be no mistake with these readings, Captain," Kaldin insisted, gesturing with the 'corder. He extended the hand holding the device. "Slaver metal cannot be faked. Even if it could, the metal readings translate according to their nuclear bonds as being over a billion years old, and that certainly cannot be faked. To last until now, any metal would have to have been encased in a Slaver stasis field. Check the readouts for yourself, sir."
Kumara wrenched the small instrument away from the officer, glanced briefly at the readings and handed it back. When he looked up at Kirk-sulu again his expression was more speculative than anything else. "Very well. So you do dare. But how can I be certain that it is a real unopened stasis box? Simply because it's Slaver metal is not proof enough."
The conversation was beginning to revolve around Kumara and Kirk-sulu, a dangerous development. Uhura-kirk recognized the danger, spoke quickly to the captain. "Mr. Sulu, Captain Kumara is doubtful that we're telling the truth. Why don't we produce some facts he can't argue with. Let's open the box for all to see—right here, right now."
"Yes, sir," Kirk-sulu acknowledged. Turning, he took a small cutter from his waist and extended it into the field. Evidentally he was going to use the thumb-sized flamer on the box's upper rim.
The reaction was uncertainty among the Briamosites. Among the Klingons, who were familiar with stasis boxes and their properties, the reaction was much more predictable. They were on their feet, staring in disbelief, except for one officer who was hunting frantically for a place to hide.
All of Kumara's usual poise temporarily deserted him. He was waving both hands wildly, his gaze switching nervously from Uhura-kirk to the ready Kirk-sulu. "Wait . . .! Jim, have you gone mad?"
Kirk-sulu activated the miniature cutter and moved the high-intensity, dark blue flame closer to the metal of the box.
Desperately Kumara whirled to face Leader Sarvus. "Sir, I beseech you, stop this! The humans have gone crazy. You can't just open a Slaver stasis box with some crude tool. It could set off a disruptor bomb or some other ingenious Slaver trap within the box. A special device is required to open the box safely." He turned disbelieving eyes back to Kirk-sulu and the threatening little flame. "We could all be killed!"
"You want proof, we're going to give it to you," said Uhura-kirk indifferently. "Existence is a game of chances. We're not afraid."
"Just the same, Captain Kirk," urged Leader Sarvus, a mite shakily, "we would prefer that if there is any truth in what Captain Kumara says, you do not demonstrate your courage so recklessly. There is no need." He indicated the box with a long, graceful arm. "I believe you."
"As you wish, sir." Uhura-kirk looked toward the box. "Never mind, Lieutenant Sulu."
"Yes, sir." Kirk-sulu flicked off the cutter, replaced it at his waist. He fought to keep from grinning at the look of relief that appeared on Kumara's face. Well, he could hardly blame him. If their positions had been reversed, he doubted he would have been crazy enough to try and call the box bluff.
"It is true, honored leader," Uhura-kirk was telling Sarvus, "that a Slaver stasis box must be opened carefully. But there is no need to be concerned when the openers have confidence in their abilities. A stasis box is nothing more than a simple technological toy. Its age doesn't imbue it with any mystic properties. It's all a matter of basic physics." She glanced back at Kirk-sulu. "Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"
Kirk-sulu nodded, then reached out and gave the stasis box an impressive little shove. The box and aura fell to the hard, polished floor. This was a calculated risk, designed to demonstrate beyond argument for the benefit of the Briamosites how courageous and self-assured the representatives of the Federation were.
Of course, if Scott's aura-simulator should break loose inside the metal container, and the aura vanish without any other sign of disruption, Kumara and his colleagues could turn from frightened to threatening. But Kirk was worrying needlessly. Mindful of the captain's pre-set plans, the ship's chief engineer had secured the box's fake components tightly. The box bounced, but its blue halo continued to glow steadily.
The two Klingon subofficers yelped despairingly and dove behind their seats. Kumara's executive officer winced visibly, but held his position. Kumara did likewise, but his hands tightened on the edge of the table.
Kirk-sulu approached the box. He gave it a short kick. It went bumping and bouncing toward the Federation side of the table, while a couple of Klingon officers orchestrated each bounce and tumble with appropriate moans.
"I do wish," Kumara finally felt compelled to request, "that you wouldn't let him do that, Jim."
"All right." Uhura-kirk smiled. "I think we've amply demonstrated relative values of, well, not courage, but confidence."
"Insanity, you mean," Kumara whispered by way of reply, his eyes still fixed to the box.
"Lieutenant?"
Kirk-sulu picked up the stasis box, placed it on the table in front of his chair, and sat down.
Glowering furiously but helpless to do anything, the Klingon officers resumed their seats.
Leader Sarvus rose, placed both hands and long, limber fingers on the table before him as he regarded Kirk and Kumara. "The Council will retire for private discussion of today's session, gentlebeings. We must debate among ourselves all that has been told and . . . shown to us. E
verything will be considered. If you desire them, refreshments will be brought to you. Since we may require additional information or elaboration of material already put to us, we request that you do not leave until we formally adjourn this meeting."
"That's fine with us," said Uhura-kirk pleasantly, after a rapid and unnoticed glance over at Kirk-sulu, who nodded confirmation of the Leader's request.
"And to us," rumbled Kumara, still eyeing the stasis box as if he expected it to leap across the open space between them and blow up in his face.
"We will return in," and the leader named a figure that corresponded to about two Federation hours. If Kirk's suspicions regarding Briamosite politics were even partly correct, the figure Sarvus mentioned was decidedly optimistic. He didn't expect the Briamosite council to conclude their deliberations in double the indicated time.
Not that that bothered him. He was prepared to wait. Events had proceeded well for the Federation. A glance at Spock-uhura showed that his first officer was also optimistic about the outcome of the conference.
There was a rustling of soft-legged chairs as the various Briamosite officials slid away from the conference table. A panel in the curving wall slid aside and the officials disappeared into an unsuspected chamber. That left the four Klingons and four Federation officers seated quietly facing each other.
Kumara had turned and was huddled with his subordinates. They conversed in whispers. Kirk and his companions did likewise, glad of the opportunity to drop their mimicry for even a few minutes.
"Captain, I've never been so terrified in my whole life," Uhura confessed in Kirk's own voice. "I never used to know what stage fright was. Now I do."
"You were terrific, Uhura," Kirk assured her. "And you, Mr. Sulu. You make a very convincing Vulcan."
"Thank you, sir. I had an excellent instructor."
"I must add my own congratulations, Lieutenant," said Spock in Uhura's mellifluous tones. "You've imitated me quite convincingly. I must say it is a strange sensation to attend a conference and watch while one's own self replies to arguments, answers questions, and moves about independent of one's own thoughts. It is very much like a dream."