Survivors - Jean Lorrah [65]
There was a pause. Then Barb said, “What he ain’t gonna tell you is that he spent two months in one of Nalavia’s prisons. Woulda died there if some of his people hadn’t broke him out. I been in places like that-rats live better. We freed a bunch of political prisoners that day, an’ all of ‘em are workin’ with us now.”
“Us?” Yar asked. “You are Trevan? I thought you were one of Dare’s … people.”
“Oh, Barb is one of my … gang,” Dare supplied the word Yar had diplomatically avoided. “She took the prison break as a private job while we were between assignments. Of all of us, Barb is the least tolerant of inactivity. I don’t care what outside jobs she takes, so long as they’re brief and she neither gets herself killed nor brings reprisals down on the rest of us. She came back with Rikan’s invitation, and a report of what she had seen on Treva. So here we are.”
Yar no longer trusted her instincts about Darryl Adin, but Rikan seemed sincere, and she had seen the video broadcasts and the advertisements for intoxicants. Her instincts certainly told her to distrust Nalavia.
“I am beginning to believe you,” she said. “Let me go back to Nalavia’s palace-it’s considerably west of here, isn’t it? Give me my combadge to contact Data, and possibly I can figure out how to get back in. Ah! The sleeping guard-“
“He wasn’t asleep,” said Sdan. “He was nerve-pinched.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll claim whoever was on guard this morning was asleep when I went out to run. If one of you can lend me clothing that could pass as exercise gear, I can get through the perimeter defenses while Data creates a diversion. But we must hurry, or it will be too late to claim I have been out running. Data and I will tap into Nalavia’s computer if he hasn’t done so already, and find out what’s really going on. If you’ll give me a frequency on which to contact you-” she said, pushing her chair back from the table.
“Sit down, Tasha,” Dare said flatly.
“But there’s no time-“
“Sit down. You are not going anywhere, and you are not contacting the android.”
“Couldn’t anyway,” Sdan added. “Nothin’ wrong with yer combadge; there’s jamming on all Starfleet frequencies.”
“If that is true,” said Yar, “Data will verify it. That makes it even more important that I go back-“
“You are not going back,” said Dare. “I have a job to do here, which I will not abandon because you or your android reports my whereabouts to Starfleet. You are not going anywhere, Tasha, until either you believe what I say and help me to help Rikan … or I have done the job without your help and got clear of Treva and Starfleet’s jurisdiction.”
Lieutenant Commander Data adjusted the frequency on his combadge one more time. Static. Although he was virtually certain Nalavia was jamming Starfleet frequencies, it could be a most inconvenient ion storm in the vicinity of Treva.
Whatever the reason, he could not contact Tasha and he could not patch into the shuttle’s more powerful radio to send a message to the Enterprise.
So Nalavia considered Data and Tasha hostages … and had lost track of Tasha. That was the last thing Data had expected; he had thought Nalavia had Tasha imprisoned. While he worked on the combadge, Data kept his tricorder’s circuits open to Nalavia’s communications center, hoping to pick up a clue to what had happened to Tasha. There was much concern, and fear of Nalavia’s retribution, but no hint of the Starfleet Lieutenant’s whereabouts.
But where would Tasha go? And why had she not left some message for Data? Or … had she?
He crossed the hallway to knock at Tasha’s door, for the benefit of the guard. “Not back yet,” the man spoke up.
“That is strange,” said Data. “We are having dinner with the cabinet members in an hour.”
“Groundcar mighta broke down,” the guard suggested.
Different shift, different guard. Data hoped this one found nothing suspicious in his saying, “I must borrow something; Lieutenant Yar will not mind,” and entering her room.
Tasha’s tricorder was gone. Of course; Nalavia’s people had obviously searched the room while the President