Star Trek 8 by James Blish

Author:James Blish [Blish, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780553127317
Publisher: Bantam Books
Published: 1972-06-01T02:37:57+00:00

WOLF IN THE FOLD

(Robert Bloch)

The planet Argelius boasted the most popular Venusbergs in the galaxy. And spacemen’s favorite was a cafe that featured the belly-dancing of the lushly exotic Kara. The other lovely women who companioned its male guests at their tables were an old, if still pleasing story to Kirk and McCoy. But they were a blissfully new one to Scott. He sat with them, glancing around him, enraptured. Then his eyes returned to Kara’s sinuous grace as she twisted it on the dance floor, her transparent gold skirt swirling around her.

Beaming, Scott said unnecessarily, “I like Argelius.”

“Very little about it not to like,” Kirk said.

“You mean to tell me these women, these beauties— I mean, all this is …”

“The Argelians think very highly of pleasure,” Kirk told him.

McCoy laughed. “There’s an understatement if ever I heard one! This is a completely hedonistic society.”

“Like Kara, Scotty?” Kirk asked.

There was a fervent “Aye!” from Scott, at which Kirk said, “Good. I’ve invited her to join us. It occurred to me you might like to meet her.”

“Now that’s what I call a Captain!” Scott exclaimed. “Always thinking of his men.”

“You’re not drinking, Jim,” McCoy said. “The few polyesters in this native extract—good for the soul. Not to mention the body.”

“I don’t suppose a little loosener-upper would hurt.” Kirk sipped his drink.

Scott, his eyes on Kara, said, “Mr. Spock should see us now.”

McCoy snorted. “He’d just be ‘fascinated’ by the picturesque folk costumes in the place.”

Kara had come to a spinning stop, her hands slanted over her eyes in the immemorially seductive gesture of simulated prudery. The cafe’s dimness lit with sparks as though someone had released a swarm of fireflies. Scott pounded enthusiastically on the table.

Amused, Kirk said, “It’s an Argelian custom to demonstrate one’s approval by blinking delight lights.”

“You telling an old Glasgow pub crawler how to applaud, Captain?” Scott said. Then all three men rose from their table. Kara was gliding toward them. As she approached, Kirk noted a young man at the bar. He had shoved his drink aside, his face darkened by a scowl. It deepened when Scott seated the girl beside him. Suddenly the scowler seized his drink, drained it and walked out of the cafe. Nor was the dancer’s elderly musician pleased by the warmth of her smile at Scott. Laying aside his flutelike instrument, he averted his eyes from their table.

Scott, oblivious of everything but Kara’s nearness, leaned forward to place his hand over hers.

“Tis a fine foggy night tonight,” he said. “Did any-one ever tell you about the grand fogs we have in Edinburgh?”

“Never a word,” she said. “But I’m dying to learn.”

“Then why don’t I show you? There’s naught like a walk in a fog with a bonny lass.”

“Or a handsome gentleman. Why don’t we go?”

The sun on Scott’s face would have dispersed even an Edinburgh fog. Kara’s hand still in his, he got up. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked the others. “I might even get back to the ship on time.

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