"You may address me by my t.i.tle," she said. "Nim."

"Very well, Nim," Dor said. "And that means that Gar Gar is your . . .?" He let his question trail into silence, inviting Alizome to answer it. She didn't. Before the moment could grow uncomfortable, Dor completed his question himself. "Caste, is it?" is your . . .?" He let his question trail into silence, inviting Alizome to answer it. She didn't. Before the moment could grow uncomfortable, Dor completed his question himself. "Caste, is it?"

Alizome had heard that characterization before from outsiders, who apparently believed that the Tzenkethi employed a system of social cla.s.ses. Such a notion only underscored how little others understood her people. n.o.body in the Coalition found themselves relegated to a particular function in life as an accident of being birthed by members of that function. Biologists confirmed the genetic composition of every Tzenkethi in utero in utero, allowing the a.s.signment of individuals to the echelon in society to which they were physiologically best suited, and which therefore best served society. Tzenkethi culture did not prevent people from overachieving and moving beyond their echelon, nor did it allow underachievers to retain an unearned position. Because of the quality of Tzenkethi genetic examination and cultural placements, though, such repositioning from one echelon to another rarely occurred.

Alizome explained none of that to Dor. Instead, she simply said, "Essentially, yes."

"And so Gar Gar would equate to what in Romulan society?" Dor asked. would equate to what in Romulan society?" Dor asked.

Alizome looked down, wanting to imply that she felt a level of embarra.s.sment. "Pardon me, Senator, I do not wish to be rude, but what you're asking about is considered a private matter on Ab-Tzenketh." Looking back up at Dor, she attempted to sell the lie by saying, "I think it is rather like the complex practice of naming that takes place on Romulus."

The senator did not look away, as Alizome had, but his facial expression changed subtly, and he appeared as embarra.s.sed as she had. "My apologies then."

"None are necessary, Senator," she said, "but thank you."

"I understand that you have been-"

The doors opened, and Ritor returned bearing a silver tray. He set it down on the table, revealing a large decanter filled with a pale-yellow beverage, along with a set of gla.s.ses. As Ritor began pouring, Dor said, "I don't know if you're familiar with carallun carallun, but it is a citrus drink made from Romulan fruit."

"I do know it," Alizome said, "and I like it."

"Good," Dor said. "I thought you might have tried it since you've been on Romulus for so long."

"That and many other things," Alizome said, taking note of the senator's artful means of informing her that he had looked into the details of her stay-and probably her background-before meeting her. "I was sent on this trade mission just after our governments allied in the Typhon Pact. It seemed like a good opportunity to reach out to new markets."

Ritor finished handing out gla.s.ses of carallun carallun by giving one to her and one to Dor. He then left the office once more. Alizome sipped at the drink, then said, "I've spoken with a great many people all over Romulus, both on the business side and on the government side. I've even spoken to members of your own clan." Dor would know all of that, but Alizome wanted to project the notion that she had nothing to hide from the senator-though of course she did. by giving one to her and one to Dor. He then left the office once more. Alizome sipped at the drink, then said, "I've spoken with a great many people all over Romulus, both on the business side and on the government side. I've even spoken to members of your own clan." Dor would know all of that, but Alizome wanted to project the notion that she had nothing to hide from the senator-though of course she did.

"And have you had much success?" he asked.

"I have had some," she said. "Small successes, mostly. Since I'll be returning to Ab-Tzenketh soon, I'm hoping that I can accomplish something more lucrative in one of my last few meetings."

"As you've already spoken with the Ortikant, then you must be aware of our extensive holdings," Dor said. "As a member of the Romulan Senate, I also have access to certain other resources."

"Then I'm sure we can find some business that would benefit us both," Alizome said. Turning to her aides, she asked for a data cube. Bezorj brought one over to her. She activated it and called up an inventory of Tzenkethi merchandise. Then, to Senator Dor, she said, "Let me show you what we have to offer."

Xarian Dor examined his data tablet, reading through the details of the transaction. Even as it had developed, its size had surprised him. He had been given to understand that the Tzenkethi could make problematic business partners, but while a determined negotiator, Representative Alizome Nim Gar-A had also been reasonable. She had balked at some of Dor's more lopsided proposals, but she'd seen value when he'd offered it. Overall, the deal would benefit both the Romulan and Tzenkethi governments, at the same time proving lucrative for the interests of the Ortikant and for whomever the representative acted.

"There is one more thing, Senator," Alizome said. "We've had major interest in Barajian fleece. Would it be possible to acquire a significant amount?"

Dor peered up from his tablet and over at the representative. The gentle golden glow of Alizome's flesh fascinated him, as did her arresting green eyes. Rarely did Dor find aliens attractive, but the Tzenkethi representative possessed a quality that drew his attention. Even the two men who attended her, though radiating a light green color, seemed exceptional physical specimens.

"Barajian fleece, I'm afraid, is virtually impossible to acquire within the Empire these days," Dor said. "It is a commodity cultivated exclusively on Achernar Prime." He had mentioned the source of the fleece as an explanation for its unavailability, but Alizome gave him a questioning look.

"Achernar Prime?" she said.

"The seat of Donatra's illegal government," Dor told her.

"Oh, I see," Alizome said. "I take it that you do not approve of the Imperial Romulan State."

Dor felt his features harden. "Would you approve if one of your military leaders co-opted a faction within your fleet, then took control of several important worlds and deemed themselves their own nation? Would you approve if that so-called nation then threatened to cut off food and medical supplies to your people if their irrational demands were not met?"

"Forgive me, Senator," Alizome said, appearing duly chastened. "I did not mean to offend."

Dor took a beat to calm himself. "No, you did not offend," he said.

"Good," Alizome said. "It would seem to me, though, that the Star Empire's entry into the Typhon Pact should mitigate any threatened shortages in food and medicine."

"It does," Dor said. Such considerations had actually aided him in making his choice to vote for ratification of the treaty.

"It would also seem to me," Alizome said, "that the substantial military might of the Typhon Pact could make reclaiming those seized worlds an easier matter."

Dor hesitated to respond. As an official of the Empire, the voicing of his opinions required circ.u.mspection, even in private conversation. He returned his attention to his data tablet.

"It would be unfortunate to miss an occasion for such a large profit," Alizome went on. "Barajian fleece has become a sought-after commodity within the Coalition."

The Tzenkethi representative seemed to be reaching for something-something beyond their business dealings, Dor thought. "I didn't know that the fleece was so popular on Ab-Tzenketh," he said.

"It is for now," Alizome said. "But if the demand goes unfulfilled for any length of time, I doubt that it will last."

Dor readily followed the representative's implication. "The shortage of Barajian fleece within the Empire, I am quite sure, will not last."

"How can can you be sure?" you be sure?"

"Because there is growing sentiment within the Romulan Senate that such valuable commodities should be returned to the Empire in the near term," Dor explained, continuing with the metaphor Alizome had introduced.

"And if the Imperial Romulan State should resist such measures?"

"The Senate would favor a.s.sistance from our newly gained allies," Dor said. "I would favor such a.s.sistance." would favor such a.s.sistance."

"That is good to hear," Alizome said with, Dor thought, a visible degree of satisfaction. From his own viewpoint, it gratified him to learn that at least one faction within the Tzenkethi government-and therefore a faction within the Typhon Pact-supported military intervention to rip Donatra's rogue state from her traitorous grip.

Dor looked down again at the tablet in his hands, and at the trade agreement spelled out on it. "This appears to be in order," he said. He signed the contract with his imprimatur, then transmitted the endorsed doc.u.ment to Alizome's data cube.

"Excellent," said Alizome. She rose from the sofa, and her two aides followed her lead. Dor stood as well and faced her. "Thank you for your time and effort, Senator." She held up the data cube. "I am confident that our agreement will be advantageous for all involved."

"As am I," said Dor.

Alizome reached a hand forward, the loose sleeve of her gossamer outfit slipping away to reveal the gentle, golden curve of her arm. Without thinking, he took her hand in his, the gesture clearly intended to show appreciation for the work they had completed together. Only later, long after Alizome and her aides had departed, did it strike Dor as odd that a Tzenkethi would practice the human ritual of a handshake.

22.

Spock descended from the personnel transport Ragul'tora Ragul'tora and stepped onto the landing stage. In the terminal, he walked amidst other arriving pa.s.sengers, who comprised a wide mix of species, including two of which he knew, but that he'd never before seen in person. Both subject races of the Star Empire, the Teluvians and the Innix had never been permitted, as far as he knew, to range beyond Romulan s.p.a.ce. Apparently, though, they had leave to travel within the Empire's borders. and stepped onto the landing stage. In the terminal, he walked amidst other arriving pa.s.sengers, who comprised a wide mix of species, including two of which he knew, but that he'd never before seen in person. Both subject races of the Star Empire, the Teluvians and the Innix had never been permitted, as far as he knew, to range beyond Romulan s.p.a.ce. Apparently, though, they had leave to travel within the Empire's borders.

Among the travelers, about half of them Romulan, Spock saw Ferengi, Carda.s.sians, and Son'a, among others, as well as a number belonging to several of the Typhon Pact signatories: Breen, Gorn, and Tzenkethi. That pleased him, as it would render his behavior less suspicious when he did what he'd come to do on Terix II. He had little doubt that he would be observed, and that he had been ever since emerging from hiding on Romulus. Tal'Aura would have kept a set of eyes on him, and if she hadn't called upon the Tal Shiar to perform that task, then the covert intelligence apparatus would likely have employed their own agent as well.

Spock followed a line of pa.s.sengers through a security checkpoint, which he moved through quickly. Because of his understanding with the praetor, he possessed legal doc.u.mentation to travel within the Empire. Intending to return to Romulus in just two days' time, he carried with him only an overnight bag and a data tablet.

Beyond security, signs in many languages-though in neither Federation Standard nor Vulcan-directed all pa.s.sengers to the mouth of a long, wide pa.s.sage. Shortly after he started in that direction, Spock saw that the ceiling and right-hand wall of the pa.s.sage had been built of a transparent material. As he walked along, he peered outward to see the magnificent skyline of Vetruvis. The famed Romulan travel destination gleamed brilliantly in the yellow glow of the setting Terix sun. Every structure in the modern city-buildings, bridges, thoroughfares-had been constructed of one kind or another of polished stone. Skysc.r.a.pers soared over shorter edifices, yet all seemed of a piece, as though they all had been carved from a field of ma.s.sive rocks, then buffed to a high shine. The facades came in an a.s.sortment of deep colors, from burgundy to cobalt, from hunter green to t.i.tanium yellow, many of them streaked through with veins of white. At the center of the city loomed the celebrated Three Towers of Terix, an interconnecting complex of structures of various heights, the grandest of which rose more than a thousand meters above the landscape.

The pa.s.sage opened up into a huge s.p.a.ce filled with many smaller, enclosed areas. More signs spelled out different districts within the city of Vetruvis: Urban Center, Government Quarter, Lodging, Restaurants, Performance Venues, Art Galleries, Museums, Galixori Canyon, Sterlanth River Gorge, and numerous others. Spock found one of the many enclosed areas designated as Lodging Lodging, entered, and took the public transporter there to a target site within Vetruvis itself. From there, he made his way to the inn where a two-night stay had been reserved for him.

Once Spock had settled into his modest room, he sat at its small companel and contacted Oloara Rintel. The young woman had graduated only recently from university, but she had held an interest in Vulcan-Romulan reunification throughout her academic years. After leaving school, she had remained on her native Terix but relocated to Vetruvis, where in addition to working in her chosen field of urban planning, she had become an activist for the Movement.

"Mister Spock," she said as her image appeared on the companel screen, she said as her image appeared on the companel screen, "I'm very pleased that you've made it to our beautiful city." "I'm very pleased that you've made it to our beautiful city." Rintel had a narrow face and high cheekbones, which gave her something of a regal air. Rintel had a narrow face and high cheekbones, which gave her something of a regal air.

"I am pleased to be here as well," he told her. "What are your expectations for the event tomorrow?" The first major rally on Terix II for Vulcan-Romulan reunification would follow on the heels of dozens of smaller but still popular events staged all over the planet in recent months. As of ten days ago, the outlook had been for upwards of ten thousand attendees.

"Mister Spock, we have disseminated word of your planned presence at the rally and of your intention to speak," Rintel said. Rintel said. "That has boosted our attendance projections, which were significant to start with. We've had to move it from Vetruvis Arena, with its capacity of fifteen thousand, to Galixori Stadium, which accommodates twice that number." "That has boosted our attendance projections, which were significant to start with. We've had to move it from Vetruvis Arena, with its capacity of fifteen thousand, to Galixori Stadium, which accommodates twice that number." Though she maintained an even tone, the rushed cadence of her words gave away her fervor. Though she maintained an even tone, the rushed cadence of her words gave away her fervor.

"Excellent," Spock said, pleased not only for the in-creased interest in reunification but also for the cover it would provide him. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then."

Rintel provided details of who would meet him at the inn and at what time, so that he could be escorted to the event. Spock agreed, and they finished their conversation. Rintel's image disappeared as her transmission ended.

Spock continued to sit at the companel, though, elbows atop the control surface, hands folded together in front of his face. He carefully considered what he would say tomorrow, working out the words that, for the sake of security, he would neither write down nor transmit. Of course, he knew well what he would say at the rally, having spoken time and again on the subject of reunification. The words that concerned him would come afterward, beyond the confines of Galixori Stadium.

Spock exited the public transporter in the section of the city given over to eateries. A wide pedestrian walkway stretched away in either direction, a shining crimson surface marbled through with streaks of milky white. He stepped out into the flow of people, moving left down the avenue.

As he walked, Spock studied the names of the various restaurants he pa.s.sed, occasionally stopping to examine the menus posted outside. It might not fool anybody watching him, but he wished to give the appearance of making an unplanned trip out for a late-afternoon meal. He had some time before his scheduled rendezvous.

Eventually, when Spock reached the cross street he needed, he set off in the appropriate direction. Three blocks down, he found the tavern for which he'd been searching, a place called Out There. Out There. A casual establishment, its posted menu offered a variety of off-world cuisine, including food and drink of Vulcan origin. A casual establishment, its posted menu offered a variety of off-world cuisine, including food and drink of Vulcan origin.

Spock entered the tavern, its interior dark and close. Booths lined the side walls, with freestanding tables between them. A long bar marched across the back, with what looked like the entrance to the kitchen in the far right corner. In this hour between midday and evening meals, he saw only a handful of patrons, none of them Romulan.

Making his way to the bar, Spock noted a pair of comnet screens mounted high on the back wall, above shelves stocked full with bottles of myriad shapes, colors, and sizes. It did not surprise him to see on one of the screens coverage of the rally at Galixori Stadium earlier that afternoon. Not every seat had been filled, but enough people had attended to make it the largest Movement event to date.

"What can I get for you?" asked the bartender, a Ferengi dressed in a loud jacket. As though willfully attempting to project a familiar, even stereotypical, image, he stood wiping a towel over a drinking gla.s.s. "A snifter of Vulcan brandy, perhaps? Or how about a tall gla.s.s of kellorica kellorica?" The bartender, whose job apparently brought him into continual contact with non-Romulans, must have recognized Spock's extraction, since he'd offered up a pair of Vulcan alcoholic beverages.

"Thank you, no," Spock said. "I would like a bowl of plomeek plomeek soup, with a side order of whole-grain soup, with a side order of whole-grain kreyla. kreyla."

"Coming right up," said the bartender. "Something to drink?"

"A gla.s.s of water, please."

"Just water?" asked the bartender. "I've got a galaxy of beverages to choose from." He gestured at the many bottles lining the shelves. "Are you sure you wouldn't want something a little more interesting?"

"Water is the single most important component of almost all known life-forms," Spock said. "I find that interesting. Water, please."

The Ferengi stared at him for a moment, then peered over at the only other customer at Spock's end of the bar. "Vulcans," the bartender said in frustration, rolling his eyes.

The other patron, a Gorn male, hissed in response, a sound that Spock's universal translator declined to interpret. The noise sent the bartender skittering away, presumably to deliver Spock's order to the kitchen staff. The Gorn, who wore a belted red tunic and an unb.u.t.toned black vest, glanced over at Spock. He hissed again, which Spock heard as, "Ferengi." The Gorn could not physically roll his faceted silver eyes, but Spock thought that if he could have, he probably would have.

"Bartenders," Spock replied.

The Gorn issued a burst of air through his long, pointed teeth, his equivalent of laughter. "So true," he said. He set down the large, wide-mouthed gla.s.s cradled between his hands. "I'm Slask, from S'snagor."

"Spock of Vulcan."

The Gorn regarded him for a moment, as though trying to place him. "Spock," he finally said, then pointed to one of the comnet screens behind the bar. "The same Spock who spoke on Vulcan-Romulan reunification at the stadium this afternoon?"

"Yes."

Slask nodded. "You're either a brave man or a fool to exhort such opinions within the Empire."

"There is no reason for you to think that I cannot be both," Spock said.

Again, Slask laughed. "I disagree with you, Spock of Vulcan," he said. "A fool cannot be brave, for one must understand the danger one courts in order to act bravely in the face of that danger."

"A valid point," Spock said.

"So what brings you to Vetruvis?" Slask asked.

"I came simply to speak at the rally," Spock said. "The Movement has gained many adherents in recent days, and I am striving to do what I can to continue that trend. I will be returning to Romulus tomorrow morning."

"It looked on the comnet like you were well received."

"It seemed that way to me as well," Spock said. "In excess of twenty thousand people attended today's event. As a Vulcan and a leading voice for reunification, I have become, in some ways, the face of the Movement. But those present appeared focused not just on me and my words but on what all the speakers had to say. They also asked many questions, not just about the Movement, but about the Vulcan way of life, how it differs from the Romulan way, and how the two might be combined to form something greater."

"Do you really believe there's any way that the Romulan people could reunify with the Vulcans?" Slask said. "Especially now, with Romulus a part of the Typhon Pact? How could that possibly work?"

"It might not be accomplished easily, but that does not make it unworthy of pursuit," Spock said. "There are several practical ways in which such a reunification could take place. Both Romulus and Vulcan could withdraw from their respective allegiances, or they could spur detente, or even entente, between the Khitomer Accord nations and those of the Typhon Pact."

"It all seems so unlikely," Slask said.

"Perhaps," Spock said. "But a year ago, it might have been argued that a treaty uniting the Gorn with the Breen, Kinshaya, Romulans, Tholians, and Tzenkethi was just as unlikely."

The Gorn nodded. "You make a point," he said.

Behind the bar, the Ferengi returned carrying a circular tray, atop which sat a steaming bowl of broth, a small plate containing three brown biscuits, and a gla.s.s of water. Before the bartender could set the meal down, Spock said, "I'd like to eat in one of the booths."

"Take your pick."

As Spock started back into the room, Slask said, "May I join you while you eat, Spock? I am interested to learn more about your Movement."

"Please do," Spock said. He selected an empty booth in the corner, away from the few other customers in the tavern. He and Slask sat down opposite each other, and the bartender placed Spock's food in front of him.

"Care for another sth'garr sth'garr?" the bartender asked Slask. Spock did not recognize the word, but a.s.sumed it named the beverage that the Gorn had been drinking.

"Not right now," Slask said. As the bartender departed, Spock heard him muttering to himself in Ferengi.

Spock picked up a spoon and sampled his plomeek plomeek soup. To his surprise, it actually tasted quite like the dish as made on Vulcan. He broke off a piece of soup. To his surprise, it actually tasted quite like the dish as made on Vulcan. He broke off a piece of kreyla kreyla and dipped it into the broth, again satisfied with the re-creation of the Vulcan food. and dipped it into the broth, again satisfied with the re-creation of the Vulcan food.

As Spock ate, Slask glanced around the room, then surrept.i.tiously removed a small device from under his belt. The Gorn stood the cylindrical object on the table, out of sight behind Spock's gla.s.s. A moment later, a small dish unfolded from the top of the device.