A contest of principles, p.22
A Contest of Principles, page 22
“Good to see you again, Captain,” Doctor Ceff said. “Please tell me the commissioner is recovering as quickly as can be expected.”
“I’m happy to say she’s on the mend,” Kirk replied, “and sends her compliments.”
Kirk had beamed down to Ceff’s campaign headquarters along with Tanaka, Sergeant Myp, and a small complement of security officers from the Enterprise. Heightened security measures, instituted in the wake of the assassination attempt, had necessitated the headquarters lowering its shields long enough to allow the landing party to drop in. Given what he had to say, Kirk wasn’t counting on their warm welcome staying that way.
“You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that.” Ceff came out from behind a cluttered desk littered with campaign paraphernalia. Her warm attitude and hospitality seemed none the worse for the attack at the rally. “I literally owe my life to her, and to you as well, Captain. Indeed, I feel terrible about the fact that I haven’t managed to visit your sickbay to express my gratitude to Commissioner Dare in person, although we did speak briefly via viewscreen.”
“I’m sure she understands that a candidate’s time is not their own,” Kirk said, “and was grateful for your call.”
“That’s all very well and good,” Div said indignantly, “but why hasn’t Gogg been arrested yet, after being caught on tape ordering the attack on my sister? It’s an outrage that he’s not behind bars already, let alone still campaigning for president. Ceff was almost killed!”
The campaign manager was among the top staff members taking part in the meeting, which Kirk has asked to keep relatively private. Prup was also on hand, multitasking on her ubiquitous data slate, but closed doors kept the bulk of Ceff’s volunteers from listening in, while also insulating Kirk and company from the hubbub and commotion of a campaign in the final days of a heated election. Calendars and to-do lists competed with political posters for wall space.
“That was a close call,” Kirk agreed. “Why, if you hadn’t spotted Lom in time and called out a warning, who knows what could have happened?”
“Luck was with us that day,” Div said, humbly enough. “I just happened to glance in the right direction at the right time.” He shuddered. “When I think about how close we came to losing Ceff…”
“But that didn’t happen.” She gave her brother a reassuring pat on the back. “We survived to keep on fighting for Vok’s future.”
“No thanks to General Gogg and his henchmen.” Prup uttered Gogg’s name with naked disgust. “Div makes a good point. Why isn’t Gogg being prosecuted yet? Granted, he’s already being vigorously tried in the press, but that’s not good enough. When did it become okay to order an attack on your opponent’s life?”
Here we go, Kirk thought. “I’m afraid the situation is not as clear-cut as that.” He quickly outlined what they had learned regarding Gogg’s double, as well as the discovery of said double’s body. “A thorough forensic examination confirmed the presence of cyalodin in Huss’s remains. He was obviously poisoned by someone trying to cover their tracks with regard to the assassination attempt.”
“Oh my.” Ceff appeared stunned by the revelations. “I think I need to sit down.” She dropped into a folding chair resting by a round conference table. “I had no idea matters had gotten so complicated.”
Div remained on his feet. “Why weren’t we informed of these developments?”
“I’m informing you now,” Kirk said. “And we thought it best to keep the details of our investigation confidential until we had a clearer picture of what kind of conspiracy we were really dealing with.”
“Which is?” Ceff asked.
“For starters, we know now that Huss posed as Gogg to trick Lom into attacking you. And Huss’s subsequent murder clearly indicates that he was not working alone. Someone apparently put him up to deceiving Lom, then eliminated him afterward.”
Prup’s brow furrowed. “ ‘Someone,’ you say. But who else would want to assassinate Doctor Ceff except Gogg and his people?”
“Are you suggesting,” Ceff asked, “that perhaps one of Gogg’s supporters was acting on their own accord, without the General’s knowledge?”
Kirk shook his head. “I’m thinking the intent was never to actually harm you, Doctor, but to frame General Gogg for the attempt.”
Div scoffed. “Not that ridiculous conspiracy theory!”
“Maybe not so ridiculous,” Tanaka said, stepping forward. “You’ve surely seen the latest public-opinion polls. These accusations are not helping Gogg. To the contrary, they seem to be reminding a significant percentage of the electorate of just how draconian the old regime could be when it came to suppressing dissent and making its opponents disappear. Your own numbers have seen a measurable bounce since the attack at the rally.”
Ceff sat up straight in the chair. “I hope you and the captain are not accusing me or my people of being behind this alleged conspiracy.”
“I doubt you volunteered to have a spear hurled at you,” Kirk said, “but as for who actually might have staged that incident…” He turned his gaze on Div. “Refresh my memory, Mister Div, who was it who arranged for Lom’s troupe to perform at the rally? I remember you saying they came highly recommended.”
Div tensed up. “I can’t immediately recall.”
“Well, do you remember who recommended them to you?” Kirk asked.
“Not at the moment,” Div said testily. “Do you have any idea how many balls I’m juggling at any given moment, how many moving parts a global political campaign involves? I can’t be expected to remember every minor detail.”
Kirk turned the heat up. “Even when that detail almost cost your sister her life?”
“Hold on a moment.” Div’s eyes narrowed; he regarded Kirk warily. “What’s happening here? Are you seriously implying that I would risk my own sister just to get a bump in the polls?”
“And thereby ensure her election?” Kirk said. “Why not? You knew there was plenty of security on hand, that you could sound an alarm in time.”
“Don’t be absurd! The very idea is insane.”
Sweat beaded on his brow. He plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow, just as Kirk had anticipated.
“You’re prone to perspiration, aren’t you, Mister Div?” he observed. “I imagine whoever poisoned Huss must have worked up a sweat that night, lugging his body over to the pantry and cramming it in with the groceries. Probably seemed like a clever idea at the time, using the pantry’s built-in stasis field to keep the body ‘on ice’ as it were, so that it wouldn’t be detected before the election. Funny thing about stasis fields, though; they’re also pretty good at preserving evidence… like the genetic material found in perspiration.”
Div swallowed hard. “What exactly are you saying?”
“You must know where this is going,” Tanaka said. “Vok Populi has the genome of every eligible voter in its memory banks, so it can confirm their identity on Election Day when they report to their designated polling places. The idea was to guarantee against fraud, but apparently it helps identify assassins too.”
Div tugged at his collar. His eyes darted to the nearest exit as though weighing his odds of getting away. Starfleet security officers quietly moved to block any escape routes. Sergeant Myp was all business.
“Well, Mister Div?” Kirk said. “Care to explain how your DNA ended up dripping onto Huss’s skin and clothing… after you poisoned him? Let me guess, you met up with him after the rally and brought a celebratory bottle of spirits, supposedly to toast the success of your hoax. I’m curious: Did you simply avoid taking a sip yourself, or had you consumed an antidote in advance?”
Div backed away from Kirk, looking more and more like a trapped animal. “I, that is, I… there must be some mistake…”
“Brother?” Ceff rose from her seat, visibly disturbed. “Is this true?”
He flinched at her words. He averted his face from her in a way that reminded Kirk of the furtive figure Madame Zell had recorded via her optical implant. Ceff approached her sibling, even as he continued to avoid her gaze.
“Please, Div,” she said softly. “Look at me. Talk to me. Please don’t lie to me.”
Kirk watched tensely, his hand on his phaser, just in case Div reacted violently, but instead the man’s shoulders sagged in defeat. He lifted his eyes to face Ceff. His voice was ragged.
“I did it for you, Ceff. The polls, the projections, were turning against us. There was still too much lingering support for the old regime and the stability it represented; people were afraid of change, of going too far too fast. Victory was slipping away from us. We needed to do something drastic to turn things around.”
“Oh, Div,” she said, more in sorrow than anger. “How could you?”
“I swear, there was never any chance that you would be harmed,” Div said, pleading for her understanding. “I made sure that Captain Kirk and his security officers were on hand to intervene. Hell, I was ready to tackle Lom myself if the commissioner hadn’t dived to your rescue first.”
Kirk scowled. Whatever sympathy he felt for the man’s distress was mitigated by the memory of Dare taking a spear in the back. Div’s manufactured stunt had nearly cost Dare her life. The commissioner’s spilled blood was on his hands.
“I don’t believe this!” Prup stepped away from Div, physically distancing herself from him. She clutched her data slate to her chest. “What on Vok were you thinking?”
Ceff turned toward her protégé. “Please tell me you weren’t in on this too.”
“Of course not!” Prup said. “I would never be party to something like this. Our whole movement is based on peace and integrity, not murders and deception. I would never betray our cause this way.”
Ceff gazed at her mournfully. “I want to believe that.”
So do I, Kirk thought. And that you’re truly innocent as well.
“You can,” Div said. “This was all me, no one else. I kept my plans to myself to avoid compromising the campaign.” He looked anxiously at Kirk. “You have to believe me, Captain. My sister knew nothing about my scheme, and neither did Prup or any others. Please don’t let them be tarred by my crimes. I’ll make a full confession, take a psycho-tricorder test, do whatever’s necessary to clear my sister’s name!”
Kirk’s gut told him Div was telling the truth, although the Vokite authorities were surely going to want more confirmation than that.
“I may take you up on that,” he said. “One thing still puzzles me, however. How did you convince Huss to take part in your scheme to frame General Gogg? Bribery, blackmail, or did Huss truly believe you were out to assassinate your own sister?”
“Hardly.” Div chuckled bleakly. “You think he would have agreed to let that damning tape of him as Gogg be recorded if he actually wanted the General elected? The truth of the matter is that he’d had a change of heart, politically and morally. Running around as Gogg, giving all those belligerent, warmongering speeches, seeing firsthand the anger he was stirring up against both Ozalor and his fellow Vokites… Seems his conscience got the better of him. He couldn’t face the possibility of being responsible, at least in part, for another interstellar war, so he quietly approached me about switching sides.” Div chuckled again. “At first, he simply wanted to come clean about doubling for Gogg, in hopes of embarrassing the General, but he wasn’t thinking big enough. That would be a minor scandal at best; it certainly wouldn’t be enough to sway the election. I saw an opportunity to do something bigger, more decisive. Something that would turn the whole election around.”
“And you took it.” Ceff shook her head sadly. “Oh, brother, you always did put image over the issues, and look where it’s brought us.”
“I’m afraid your plan may backfire on you,” Tanaka said. “This news isn’t going to help your cause, not once the truth gets out.”
“It doesn’t have to.” Div perked up, as though spying a way out at last. “Let’s be honest. None of us want Gogg to be elected. That would be a disaster for the entire sector. We can keep this to ourselves, let the world keep thinking that Gogg wanted my sister dead, and save Vok from making a cataclysmic mistake. And I’m not just saying that to get myself out of trouble. We need to look at the big picture here.”
Tanaka glanced around the room, from Kirk to Myp and back again. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I hate to say it, but he’s not entirely wrong. Maybe we need to think about what we do next?”
“Nothing wrong with thinking before acting.” Kirk couldn’t blame Tanaka for wanting to contemplate the consequences of exposing Div. Politics often involved weighing pragmatism versus principle in hopes of achieving the greater good; that was the nature of the beast. Kirk had occasionally kept certain details out of his official logs in the interests of discretion, as when he’d kept his promise to Zefram Cochrane by hiding his continued existence. Kirk understood what was at stake here: revealing the truth about the staged assassination attempt, and Huss’s subsequent murder, could well throw the election to General Gogg, increasing the chances of, among other things, a bloody civil war on Braco.
Nevertheless, he shook his head.
“We can consult Commissioner Dare if you wish, but I’m pretty sure I know what she’d say. For better or for worse, we’re here to be impartial observers. We start putting our fingers on the scale, trying to tip the election one way or another, then we’ve compromised our mission beyond recognition.”
“But haven’t you already interfered,” Div argued, “just by sticking your noses in where you didn’t belong? You didn’t have to play detective!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten a Federation citizen speared in the back?” Tanaka retorted. “Did you really think we were going to just overlook that?”
Div wavered. “I… I was just thinking of Vok’s future.”
“In any event,” Myp chimed in, “Captain Kirk conducted his investigation with the full support and cooperation of myself and the rest of our Civic Security agencies. We appreciate his efforts to expose the conspiracy in our midst.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.” He valued her vote of confidence yet felt obliged to address Div’s accusation directly. “To the contrary, Mister Div, our mission was to ensure a fair election. We’re not interfering by making certain that the candidates aren’t trying to kill each other… or by letting the truth be known. The best way we can stay neutral is to put the facts before your people, as accurately as possible, so they can choose for themselves, no matter where those facts point or who they may favor.”
“Easy for you to say,” Div said sourly. “You’re just going to fly away when this election is over. You’re not going to have to face the consequences.” His face twisted in contempt. “I hope you can live with that, Kirk.”
Me too, Kirk thought.
“You’re mistaken, brother.” Ceff squared her shoulders. “This isn’t his decision, or the commissioner’s, or anyone else’s.” Her voice was firm and resolute as though she’d reached a decision. “It’s mine.”
Twenty-Five
Braco
The grate above the Pit slid back. A metal ladder extended until it reached the floor of the cell. Spock looked up from his cot to see Nurse Chapel descend into the Pit. The ladder contracted after she reached the bottom and the grille slid back into place. F’lun shouted down through the grating.
“You have twenty minutes, tops. Better make the most of them.”
Chapel ignored the jailer, turning toward Spock instead. “I’m so sorry, Mister Spock. I wanted to come earlier, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“No need to apologize.” He rose to greet her. “Neither of us are free to come and go as we please at present.” He offered her the stool. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
He inspected the nurse, whom he had not seen for several hours. Although showing signs of fatigue and worry, she appeared in relatively functional condition despite their captivity. He noted that she was not in uniform, having changed into a faded yellow coverall, no doubt provided by their captors. Troxy, who was nibbling on the remains of Spock’s most recent salad, rotated a curious eyestalk toward the new arrival. Spock had placed the tray with the leftovers on the floor earlier.
“How go your labors in the infirmary?” he asked.
“Keeping me busy.” She sat down on the stool. “Nothing too serious. Mostly minor injuries: cuts, sprains, a dislocated shoulder, plus some headaches, upset stomachs, and such, much of them stress related. Delivered a baby late last night, which is probably the highlight of my stint here. Took me a while to earn enough brownie points before V’sta would let me visit you.” She eyed him with concern. “How are you doing, Mister Spock?”
“I have not been mistreated,” he assured her. “The United Bracon Front are humane in their handling of prisoners.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” she said. “I’ve been worried.”
“I appreciate your concern, Nurse, as well as you calling on me.”
Chapel glanced up at the grate overhead. She lowered her voice. “How long do you think they’ll keep holding us?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense,” she protested, venting her frustration. “The Bracon authorities have already declared that they’re not going to negotiate for our release, so what is the point of keeping us?”
Spock refrained from pointing out that Chapel had already demonstrated her value through her services in the infirmary since he could hardly expect her to abstain from treating patients in need for strategic reasons. That would be against both her character and her professional ethics.
“Perhaps,” he speculated, “they hope that the Federation can eventually exert enough pressure on the Bracon government to achieve a face-saving compromise of some variety, although I am uncertain how probable that scenario is. In any event, the UBF have committed themselves to this action. To release us now, without extracting any concessions, would undermine any future negotiations.”
“I can’t argue with your logic, Mister Spock, unfortunately,” she said, sighing. “I suppose we should be thankful they’re not threatening our lives yet… or sending pieces of us back to the capital, if you’ll pardon the grisly image.”
