Once the guards had secured her ankles as well, he instructed them to leave, preferring some privacy for what followed. He returned to the console and sent a signal. Within a minute, the screen lit up with the face of Rehlen Vons—or rather, the simulacrum thereof worn by one of Raldul’s finest impersonators, chosen for his facial and vocal resemblance to the late assistant director. “Mister Toric,” Garos greeted him. “Let me introduce you to Lieutenant Williams of Starfleet. She serves with your Mister Grev and Mister Kirk.”
Toric looked her over with a smarmy grin, simulating a prurient appreciation of her state of undress. “Charmed, young lady.” He was a good man, Garos thought, but fonder of such gratuitously sadistic flourishes than he needed to be. To Williams’s credit, she showed no sign of letting it get to her.
“Mister Toric, I’m eager to know—have your guests attempted to enact their plan to destroy the secret archives yet?”
“We overheard them finalizing their plans last night,” Toric replied. He then explained for the lady’s benefit: “We let them get this far so that it would have more impact when we punished them for the attempt.”
“Them?” asked Garos.
“Well, technically Mister Damreg only tortured the human prisoner. But the little Tellarite certainly got the message.”
Williams gasped, wincing and looking away. “Yes, that must be distressing to learn,” Garos told her. “That by choosing to rescue a stranger, you condemned your crewmate to be tortured.”
The Starfleet lieutenant glared with fury in her eyes. “The only ones responsible are you people. And I swear I will make you bastards pay.”
Garos studied her, intrigued by the passion in her voice. “My, my, could it be that the hapless Mister Kirk is more than merely a crewmate?”
“He’s a friend,” she replied. “We’re all friends. That’s something I doubt you’d understand.”
Garos sighed. “How little you know me, Lieutenant. I count many friends among the members of my alignment and my crew. It pains me when I must sacrifice them for the sake of our goals. But I know they understand, as I do, that the good of Maluria surpasses all personal considerations.”
She peered closely at him for several moments, long enough that Garos decided he’d made his point and turned back to the screen. “I take it, then, that Ensign Grev has responded to this new . . . incentive?”
“Oh, yes. He’s broken the first layer of encryptions—enough to give us file headings and partial descriptions. We don’t have the secrets yet, but at least we know who and what they’re about, and we can make some educated guesses. I’ve already sent messages to various politicians on Two and Three, implying we know more than we do, and their imaginations have filled in the rest. They’ll do as they’re told.”
“Excellent, Mister Toric. See that the Tellarite proceeds with more alacrity from here on. Our bluffs can only achieve so much; if we’re to win Rigel II, we need proof of the secrets we hold.”
“I understand, sir.”
“That will be all.” Garos signed off, and the screen went dark.
After a few moments, he heard a strange sound from Williams. As he stepped toward her, the sound escalated into a tired laugh. “Perhaps the Corthocs did more damage than I thought. I wouldn’t expect Rigel’s plight to be so amusing to you.”
“No, it’s not that,” Williams said. “See, I just realized I know more about the First Families’ plans than you do.”
He waited, aware that she was making him ask. Finally he gave in. “What do you believe you know?”
Again that soft, knowing laughter. “You really think this is just about Rigel II and the Federation, don’t you? That the Families will blackmail the Trade Commission into rejecting Federation membership and seize control of Two in the process. And maybe if there is a war over Two, even a rebellion on Three, then that might prompt the Vulcans to vote no on membership anyway. Oh, you’ve figured all the angles.”
He retained his aplomb. “I did say I enjoy intelligent company.”
“Oh, if only I had some.” More chuckling. “They’re playing you, Garrie. The master manipulator, and you’re being conned by a bunch of feudal hicks.”
“Just say what you intend to say. My indulgence has its limits.”
She shook her head. “Dectof Corthoc was right. You lack imagination. You’re so used to thinking like a criminal that you assume the Families are content to be criminals too. That once they solidify Rigel II as a base for their activities, they’ll just go on with their usual piracy, and you can keep your lawless, Federation-free status quo.”