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But neither of them were prepared for what actually came through the doors. First came the woman, Mistrae, looking quite amused. Then eight young men entered, bearing long, slender trumpets. They took up positions in two rows flanking the doors, and when they raised the trumpets toward one another, purple and white banners unfurled from the shafts. The men blew an elaborate fanfare, then crisply snapped the trumpets downward to stand at attention.
And in strolled a tall, overweight, nearly baid-headed man dressed in a billowy green shirt and loose gray pants, the legs of which had been tucked into the tops of his tall black boots. He had a wide, cherubic face, and an even wider black handlebar mustache. He had hooked his thumbs under his belt, and he swaggered like a king at his coronation.
Kirk recognized him instantly, by his mannerisms as well as his appearance. "Harry Mudd!" he ex- claimed.
For indeed it was. The same Harry Mudd who had trafficked in beautiful women, "wiving settlers," as he called it, and who had nearly destroyed the Enterprise in the bargain. The same Harry Mudd who had later found a planet full of androids, and who had nearly trapped the Enterprise crew there as enslaved subjects for the androids to "serve." Oh yes, Kirk knew this man, though he devoutly wished he didn't.
But if Mudd sensed any of his animosity, he didn't show it. He just smiled broadly at Kirk and said in his booming, exuberant voice, "Harcourt, please. Harry is so ... uncivilized."
"That's true enough," muttered Chekov.
"Ah, Mr. Chekov," Mudd said. "Clever as ever, I see. And the lovely Lieutenant Uhura. Certainly the most pleasant aspect of either of my stays on board the Enterprise. Thank you for accepting my invitation." He bowed deeply as he approached her, then caught her right hand on the upswing and brought it to his lips in a gentle kiss.
Uhura smiled wryly and said, "Hello, Harry. Good to see you again. I think."
Mudd chuckled. "Ah, such warmth and affection from my dear old friends. It truly warms my heart."
He turned to McCoy, and fluttering his right hand near his breastbone, said, "Stay near, good doctor. I may need your services if I become overwhelmed with emotion. And Mr. Scott. Your engines still look to be in tune." Mudd turned last toward Spock. "I know better than to expect an effusive greeting from you, sir, so allow me to greet you warmly for both of us." He grasped Spock's right hand and shook it enthusiastically-for about a second, until Spock tightened his muscles and his arm became as rigid as a steel beam. Mudd continued to shake for a moment, his whole body quivering with the effort, then he stopped and let go, saying, "As always, you're a veritable pillar of friendship, Mr. Spock."
The Nevisians-and Dr. McCoy-laughed at Mudd's antics, but Spock's reply was direct and to the point. "How did you escape from the android planet?"
As punishment for his role in capturing the Enterprise for the androids, Kirk and his crew had left Mudd there when they escaped-with five hundred android copies of his nagging wife, Stella, to make sure he got into no more trouble.
"Well," said Mudd, turning to Kirk, "the terms of my stay there were that I would be free to go when I was no longer an . . . 'irritant' I believe you called it. Of course since I never was an irritant, it was a simple matter of arranging for transportation once I decided to take my leave." Kirk knew how to interpret Mudd's statements. Arranging for transportation meant. . . "You stole another ship," he said.
"Nothing of the sort!" Mudd protested indignantly.
"The androids provided me with one the moment I asked."
"And what sort of deviltry have you been up to since then?"
Mudd looked to the Grand General. "Ah, such kidders. You can see why I love them so, can't you? Well, Kirk, my boy, sorry to disappoint you, but this is my first stop. I heard about these people's terrible misunderstanding, and I hurried here as soon as I could to offer my services."
Kirk was almost afraid to ask, but curiosity wouldn't let him not. "What services?"
"Why, the exclusive distribution of Palko fruit to the rest of the galaxy, of course. Only the white halves, to be sure, but that still nets a substantial profit, of which the Nevisians get a perfectly equitable fifty percent."
McCoy said, "You're selling half of a binary nerve toxin to unsuspecting customers? That's against-"
"Unsuspecting? Doctor, why would I let such an opportunity for profit go untapped? Of course I told my customers of the danger. That allowed me to triple the price I would otherwise have gotten."
Kirk supposed that was probably true. Only someone like Mudd would have thought of it, and only Mudd would have stopped an interplanetary war in order to make the deal, but it sounded as if he might actually be telling the truth this time. The truth according to Harry Mudd, of course. Kirk knew that stopping the war had never been his first priority-profit was Mudd's only priority-but the result was apparently the same.
Copyright © 1996 by Jerry Oltion
