Burgess approached Lojur, stopping only centimeters away and never breaking eye contact with him. “Please have a seat, Commander. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
As the shimmering light of the transporter beam released him, Sulu took in his new surroundings. The decks and bulkheads were smooth and dark, as though cut from volcanic glass. Even in the relatively dim light, the atmosphere in the high-ceilinged chamber shimmered slightly because of its extreme heat and pressure. The environmental suit’s thermal exchangers could handle 200° Celsius easily enough. But he could feel the dense atmosphere pressing down against his chest and shoulders. Fortunately, the newly modified internal servomotors in the suit’s joints greatly ameliorated the overall effect.
Still, he felt a sensation uncomfortably like wading through gelatin as he took a few experimental steps. This was going to take some getting used to.
Several scantily attired Tholians were waiting to greet him on the broad chamber’s opposite side. None appeared to be Yilskene, but it was difficult to differentiate between them, especially with the dense atmosphere that obscured each individual’s distinctive coloration pattern. Without the encumbrance of pressure suits, these Tholians seemed a [323] good deal more graceful than had their diplomatic-caste counterparts during the initial meetings between Kasrene and Burgess.
That wasn’t an encouraging sign, with a monoblade duel coming up.
“Greetings, Captain,” one of the Tholians said, its tail switching back and forth. It crossed its multijointed fore-limbs in front of its chest, crossing them just below the claws. “I am Taskene. I am to be your weaponskeeper—your assistant and fair witness to your death during the truthcombat.”
“Thank you, I suppose,” Sulu said. He bowed slightly, glad that his modified environmental suit gave him greater flexibility than did the standard models.
As he straightened, he noticed a dull ache in his left shoulder, the one that the Losira-simulacrum’s lethal fingers had brushed thirty years earlier. It might have been an artifact of his growing fatigue. Or perhaps his body was trying to remind him that it had been a very long time since he’d swept the Inner Planets championship fencing tournament.
Taskene gestured toward the wide door located at the far side of the chamber. “Through here, please. It is time for me to make you ready for truthcombat.”
Asthey moved down a black glass-lined corridor, Sulu took in more of the ship. He assumed that the polyhedral outcroppings beside which many Tholians perched were computer system interfaces. The strange, corrugated metal designs placed at irregular intervals along the corridor walls might have been anything from security cameras to art objects for all Sulu could tell.
Finally, Taskene gestured toward another door set into, the winding corridor, and Sulu entered. Sitting on a crystalline pedestal was a meter-wide hexagon that Sulu assumed to be his shield. Beside it lay a monoblade. From the faint glow the superheated atmosphere imparted to the [324] whisker-thin blade, Sulu could see that it was at least as long as the shield was wide.
“I will advise you in the use of this weapon, and on the rules of the duel,” Taskene said, lifting the haft of the blade. “You may be interested in the surrender-forfeit option. It may not save your life, but it might spare you from experiencing this.”
The Tholian then threw a stonelike object into the air, neatly cleaving it in two with the weapon.
In spite of the room’s intense heat, Sulu felt a chill course down his spine.
Chapter 29
Chekov regarded the empty captain’s chair for a protracted moment before taking a seat. I sincerely hope Hikaru doesn’t force me to keep this permanently,he thought. If he does, I’ll never forgive him.
“We’re being hailed, Commander,” said Janice Rand, who was seated at the communications console. “It’s the captain of the Neyel vessel.”
“Put him on the screen,” Chekov said. A moment later, Drech’tor Joh’jym’s face appeared on the main viewer, his hard brow scored by a look of worry.
“Commander, Jerdahn has informed me that your captain has gone among the Devils.”
Chekov wondered how Jerdahn had learned about the truthcombat.On the other hand, the fact that the captain was off the ship at the moment wasn’t exactly classified information among Excelsior’screw.
“That’s right, Drech’tor.”
“Why aren’t you aiding him? We can’t simply leave him at their mercy.”
“I’m afraid we have no choice. I have direct orders from Captain Sulu not to intervene.” At least, not before intervention becomes absolutely necessary,he thought. “Please don’t complicate things by getting involved in this.”
[326] After a pause, Joh’jym said, “I am hardly less involved than you, Pavelchekov. But I will respect your captains wishes. For now.”
“We’re making preparations to withdraw, should the need arise,” Chekov told the Neyel commander. “If we give the word, we want you to head straight back into the rift, to warn your people.”
“My people are already well aware of the threat the Devils pose,”Joh’jym said. “I do not relish the idea of running from them a second time. Once was enough. Twice is cowardice.”
“Captain Sulu is convinced that he’ll succeed,” Chekov said. “But if you are ever to see Old Earth, it will either be because Sulu won the truthcombat,or because he has failed and we have escaped from the Tholians to fight another day.”
Joh’jym nodded, though his expression showed that he still needed more convincing. “Very well. In whatever fashion you intend to move, inform us when you are ready.”
After Joh’jym signed off, Chekov turned his chair back toward Rand, who was paying close attention to her console.
“What’s the status of the transponder in Captain Sulu’s environmental suit, Janice?”
She grinned. “Coming in loud and clear, Commander. According to his suit’s biomonitors, he’s fine so far.”
“His heart rate is slightly elevated,” Tuvok reported from the science station. “And he began consuming considerably more oxygen than normal forty-seven seconds ago. I believe this would signify that he has begun the truthcombatduel in earnest.”
Chekov felt some measure of relief to hear that Sulu had already apparently survived nearly a minute of close-quarter combat against a monoblade-wielding Tholian. But his relief was tempered by an equal portion of apprehension. The captain was still in grave danger.
Pressing a button on the arm of his chair, Chekov said, “Transporter Room One, do you still have a lock on him?”
[327] “Aye, sir,”Ensign Prager reported over the comm. “Standing by and ready to energize at your signal.”
“Very good. Keep monitoring the transponder transmissions and let me know about any changes.”
Chekov was grimly aware, of course, that any sudden change in Sulu’s bioreadings would very likely mean that the captain was either dead or had sustained a monoblade injury so serious that not even Dr. Chapel could mend it.
Let’s hope I don’t have to yank him out of there prematurely,Chekov thought. Yilskene’s bound to react badly to that.
While each combatant’s weaponskeeperlooked on from his respective end of the oblong chamber, Yilskene advanced. He moved on four of his legs, his tail switching hypnotically from side to side over his head. Mirroring Sulu, he grasped a monoblade in one claw, and an energy shield in the other. While their shields were easily visible, the blades themselves betrayed their lethal presence only with a faint, heat-induced glow that grew elusive with motion.
Sulu waited for his opponent to strike the first blow, testing his balance. He was pleased to note that the artificial gravity seemed indistinguishable from that aboard Excelsior;it was the hazy, oppressive atmosphere that was affecting his moves.