by James Blish
"Spock is my best officer," Kirk said. "And my best friend."
"I'm glad he has such a friend. It hasn't been easy for Spock—neither Vulcan nor human; at home nowhere, except Starfleet."
"I gather Spock disagreed with his father over his choice of a career."
"My husband has nothing against Starfleet. But Vulcans believe peace should not depend on force. Sarek wanted Spock to follow his teaching as Sarek followed the teaching of his father."
"And they're both stubborn."
Amanda smiled. "Also a human trait, Captain."
Abruptly, Uhura's voice interrupted from a console speaker. "Bridge to Captain Kirk."
Kirk snapped a toggle. "Kirk here."
"Captain, I've picked up some sort of signal; just a few symbols, nothing intelligible."
"Source?"
"That's what bothers me, sir. Impossible to locate. There wasn't enough of it. Sensors show nothing in the area. But it was a strong signal, as though it was very close."
"Go to alert status four. Begin long-range scanning. Kirk out." Kirk frowned thoughtfully and flicked off the switch. "Madame—Amanda—I'll have to ask you to excuse me. I shall hope to see you again at the reception this evening."
"Certainly, Captain. Both Vulcans and humans know what duty is."
The reception was already going full blast when Kirk arrived. Amid a murmur of conversation, delegates circulated, or sampled the table of exotic drinks, hors d'oeuvre. There was a fantastic array of them from many cultures.
Over it all was a fault aura of edgy politeness verging on hostility. The Interplanetary Conference had been called to consider the petition of the Coridian planets to be admitted to the Federation. The Coridian system had already been claimed by some of the races who now had delegates aboard the Enterprise, races who therefore had strong personal reasons for keeping Coridan out of the Federation. Keeping open warfare from breaking out among the delegates before the Conference even began was going to be a tough problem; many of them were not even trained diplomats, but minor officials who had been handed a hot potato by bosses who did not want to be saddled with the responsibility for whatever happened on Babel.
Kirk spotted Spock and McCoy in a group which included a Tellarite named Gav, two Andorians called Shras and Thelev, and Sarek and Amanda. Well, at least Spock was—er—associating with his family, however distantly.
As Kirk joined the group, McCoy was saying, "Mr. Ambassador, I understood that you had retired from public service before this conference was called. Forgive my curiosity, but, as a doctor, I'm interested in Vulcan physiology. Isn't it unusual for a Vulcan to retire at your age? You're only a hundred or so."
As was characteristic of Andorians because of their sensitive antennae, Shras was listening with his head down and slightly tilted, while Gav, sipping a snifter of brandy, was staring directly into Sarek's face. For an Earthman unaccustomed to either race, it would have been hard to say which of them, if either, was being rude.
Sarek said, "One hundred and two point four three seven, measured in your years. I had other—concerns."
Gav put his snifter down and leaned still farther forward. When he spoke, his voice was rough, grating and clumsy; English was very difficult for all his people, if he spoke it better than most. "Sarek of Vulcan, do you vote to admit Coridan to the Federation?"
"The vote will not be taken here, Ambassador Gav. My government's instructions will be heard in the Council Chamber on Babel."
"No—you. How do you vote, Sarek of Vulcan?"
Shras lifted his head. "Why must you know, Tellarite?" His voice was whispery, almost silken.
"In Council, his vote carries others," Gav said, stabbing a finger toward Sarek. "I will know where he stands, and why."
"Tellarites do not argue for reasons," Sarek said. "They simply argue."
"That is a . . ."
"Gentlemen," Kirk interrupted firmly. "As Ambassador Sarek pointed out, this is not the Council Chamber on Babel. I'm aware the admission of Coridan is a highly debatable issue, but you can't solve it here."
For a moment the three Ambassadors stared defensively at each other. Then Sarek nodded to Kirk. "You are correct, Captain. Quite logical."
"Apologies, Captain," Shras whispered.
Gav remained rigid for a moment, then nodded and said in an angry voice, "You will excuse me," and left the group.
"You have met Gav before, Ambassador," Shras said softly to Sarek.
"We debated at my last Council session."
"Ambassador Gav lost," Amanda added with a straight face. If Shras was amused, his face was incapable of showing it. He nodded solemnly and moved off.
"Spock, I've always suspected you were more human," McCoy said, in an obvious attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Mrs. Sarek, I know about the rigorous training of Vulcan boys, but didn't he ever run and play like human youngsters? Even in secret?"
"Well," said Amanda, "he did have a sehlat he was very fond of."
"Sehlat?"
"It's rather like a fat teddy bear."
McCoy's eyes went wide. "A teddy bear?" Several other crew personnel had overheard this and there was a general snicker. Quickly, Sarek turned to his wife and took her arm firmly.
"Excuse us, Doctor," he said. "It has been a long day for my wife." He propelled her toward the door amid a barrage of "good nights."
McCoy turned back to Spock, who did not appear the least bit discomforted. "A teddy bear!"
"Not precisely, Doctor," Spock said. "On Vulcan, the 'teddy bears' are alive and have six-inch fangs."
McCoy, no Vulcan, was obviously rocked. He was bailed out by a nearby wall communicator, which said in Chekov's voice, "Bridge to Captain Kirk."
"Kirk here."
"Captain, sensors are registering an unidentified vessel pacing us."
"On my way. Duty personnel on yellow alert. Passengers are not to be alarmed . . . Mr. Spock!"
The intruder turned out to be a small ship, about the size of a scout, of no known configuration, and unauthorized in this quadrant. It had been paralleling the course of the Enterprise for five minutes, outside phaser range and indeed at the extreme limit of the starship's sensors, and would not answer hails on any frequency or in any language. An attempt to intercept showed the intruder not only more maneuverable than the Enterprise, but faster, by a nearly incredible two warps. Kirk ordered full analysis of all sensor readings made during the brief approach, and went back to the reception, leaving Spock in command.
It seemed to be petering out. Gav was still there, sitting isolated, still working on the brandy. If he was trying to get drunk, he was due for a disappointment, Kirk knew; alcohol had no effect on Tellarites except to shorten their already short tempers. Shras and Thelev were also still present, heads down, plus a few other delegates.
Most interestingly, Sarek had returned, by himself. Now why? Had his intent been only to get Amanda off the scene before she could further embarrass their son? There could be no emotional motive behind such a move. What would the logical one be? That whether Sarek approved of Starfleet or not, Spock was an officer in it, and could not function properly if he did not command respect? It seemed as good a guess as any; but Kirk knew that his understanding of Vulcan psychology was, to say the least, insecure.
While he was ruminating, Sarek had gone to a drink dispenser, with the aid of which he seemed to have downed a pill of some kind, and Gav had risen and come up behind him. Sensing trouble, Kirk moved unobtrusively closer. Sure enough, Gav had brought up the Coridan question again.
Sarek was saying; "You seem unable to wait for the Council meeting, Ambassador. No matter. We favor admission."
"You favor? Why?"
"Under Federation law, Coridan can be protected—its wealth administered for the benefit of its people."
"It's well for you," Gav said. "Vulcan has no mining interest."
"The Coridians have a nearly unlimited wealth of dilithium crystals, but are underpopulated and unprot
ected. This invites illegal mining operations."
"Illegal! You accuse us . . .?"
"Of nothing," Sarek said. "But reports indicate your ships have been carrying Coridian dilithium crystals."
"You call us thieves?" Without an instant's warning, Gav leaped furiously forward, grasping for Sarek's throat.
Sarek blocked the Tellarite's hands and effortlessly slammed him away, against a table. As Gav started to lunge at Sarek again, Kirk caught him and forced him back. "Lies!" Gav shouted over his shoulder. "You slander my people!"
"Gentlemen!" Kirk said.
Gav stopped struggling and Kirk stepped back, glaring coldly at both Ambassadors. "Whatever arguments you have among yourselves are your business," Kirk said. "My business is running this ship—and as long as I command it, there will be order."
"Of course, Captain," Sarek said.
"Understood," Gav said sullenly after a moment. "But Sarek, there will be payment for your slander."
"Threats are illogical," Sarek said. "And such 'payment' is usually expensive."
However, the fight seemed to be over—and the reception as well. Kirk went to his quarters, almost too tired to worry. It had been a day full of tensions, not one of which was yet resolved. Most of the ship was on night status now, and it was a weary pleasure to go through the silent, empty corridors.
But it was not over yet. In his quarters, he had just gotten out of the dress uniform with relief when his intercom said: "Security to Captain Kirk."
What now? "Kirk here."
"Lt. Josephs, sir. I'm on Deck 11, Section A-3. I just found one of the Tellarites, murdered and stuffed into the Jefferies tube. I think it's the Ambassador himself, sir."
So a part of his mission—to keep the peace on board—had failed already.
McCoy knelt in the corridor next to the Jefferies tube and probed Gav's body, using no instruments but his surgeon's fingers. Kirk and Spock watched; Lt. Josephs and two security guards waited for orders to remove the body. At last McCoy rose.
"How was he killed?" Kirk asked.
"His neck was broken. By an expert."
Spock glanced sharply at McCoy and then bent to examine the body himself. Kirk said, "Explain."
"From the location and nature of the break, I'd say the killer knew exactly where to apply pressure to snap the spine instantly. Not even a blow was used—no bruise."
"Who aboard would have that knowledge besides yourself?"
"Vulcans," Spock said, straightening again. "On Vulcan, the method is called tal-shaya—considered a merciful method of execution in ancient times."
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said, "a short time ago I broke up an argument between your father and Gav."
"Indeed, Captain? Interesting."
"Interesting? Spock, do you realize that makes your father the most likely suspect?"
"Vulcans do not approve of violence."
"Are you saying your father couldn't have done this?"
"No," Spock said. "But it would be illogical to kill without reason."
"But it he had such a reason?"
"If there were a reason," Spock said, "my father is quite capable of killing—logically and efficiently. He has the skill, and is still only in middle age."
Kirk stared at his First Officer for a moment, appalled. Then he said, "Come with me. You too, Bones."
He led the way to Sarek's quarters which, he was surprised to see when they were admitted by a smiling Amanda, had not been made up to suit Vulcan taste. He would have thought that Spock would have seen to that. He said, "I'm sorry to disturb you. But I must speak with your husband."
"He's been gone for some time. It's his habit to meditate in private before retiring. What's wrong? Spock?"
At that moment the door opened again and Sarek entered. "You want something of me, Captain?"
Kirk observed that he looked somewhat tense, not exactly with anxiety, but as though he were fighting something back. "Ambassador, the Tellarite Gav has been found murdered. His neck was broken—in what Spock describes as tal-shaya."
Sarek glanced at his son, lifting an eyebrow in the same familiar manner. "Indeed? Interesting."
"Ambassador, where were you in the past hour?"
"This is ridiculous, Captain," Amanda said. "You aren't accusing him . . .?"
Spock said, "If only on circumstantial evidence, he is a logical suspect, Mother."
"I quite agree," Sarek said, but he seemed more tense than before. "I was in private meditation. Spock will tell you that such meditation is a personal experience, not to be discussed. Certainly not with Earthmen."
"That's a convenient excuse, Ambassador, but . . ."
He broke off as Sarek gasped and started to crumple. He went to his knees before Kirk and Spock could catch him, clutching at his rib cage. A moan escaped him; any pain that could force such a sound from a Vulcan must have been agonizing indeed.
McCoy took a quick reading, then took out a pressure hypo, set it, and gave Sarek a quick injection. Then he went back to the instruments, taking more time with them now.
"What's wrong?" Amanda asked him.
"I don't know—I can't be sure with Vulcan physiology. It looks like something to do with his cardiovascular system, but . . ."
"Can you help him, Bones?"
"I don't know that yet, either."
Kirk looked at mother and son in turn. Spock was as expressionless as always, but Amanda's eyes were haunted; not even years of adaptation to Vulcan tradition could cover a worry of this kind.
"I must go off duty," he told her apologetically. "Still another problem confronts me in the morning, for which I'll need a fresh mind. Should I be needed here before then, Dr. McCoy will of course call me."
"I quite understand, Captain," she said gently. "Good night, and thank you."
A truly remarkable woman.
Not much progress, it turned out on the next trip, had been made on the problem of the ship shadowing the Enterprise. Readings taken during the brief attempt at interception showed only that it either had a high-density hull or was otherwise cloaked against sensor probes. It was definitely manned, but by what? The Romulans had nothing like it, nor did the Federation or neutral planets, and that it was Klingon seemed even more unlikely.
Two fragmentary transmissions had been picked up, in an unknown code—with a reception point somewhere inside the Enterprise herself. Kirk ordered the locator field tightened to include only the interior of his own ship; if somebody aboard had a personal receiver—as seemed all too likely now—it might be pinned down, if the shadow sent another such message.
There seemed to be nothing further to be done on that for the moment. With Spock, whose only concern over his father's illness seemed to be over its possible adverse effect upon the mission, Kirk paid a visit to Sickbay. Sarek was bedded down there, with McCoy and Nurse Christine Chapel trying to make sense of the strange reports the body function panel was giving them; Amanda hovered in the door, trying to keep out of the way. As for Sarek himself, he looked as though he felt inconvenienced, but no longer in uncontrollable pain.
"How is he, Bones?"
"As far as I can tell, our prime suspect has a malfunction in one of the heart valves. I couldn't make a closer diagnosis on a Vulcan without an exploratory. Mrs. Sarek, has he had any previous attacks of this sort?"
"No," Amanda said.
"Yes," Sarek said almost simultaneously. "There were three others. My physician prescribed benjasidrine for the condition."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Amanda asked.
"There was nothing you could have done. The prognosis was not serious, providing I retired, which, of course, I did."
"When did you have these attacks, Ambassador?" McCoy said.
"Two before my retirement. The third, while I was meditating on the Observation Deck when the Tellarite was murdered. I was quite incapacitated."
"I saw you taking a pill not long before that," Kirk said. "If you'll give one to Dr. McCoy for analysis, it sho
uld provide circumstantial evidence in your favor. Were there any witnesses to the Observation Deck attack?"
"None. I do not meditate among witnesses."
"Too bad. Mr. Spock, you're a scientist and you know Vulcan. Is there a standard procedure for this condition?"
"In view of its reactivation by Sarek's undertaking this mission," Spock said, "the logical approach would be a cryogenic open-heart operation."
"Unquestionably," Sarek said.
"For that, the patient will need tremendous amounts of blood," McCoy said. "Christine, check the blood bank and see if we've got enough Vulcan blood and plasma. I strongly suspect that we don't have enough even to begin such an operation."
"There are other Vulcans aboard."
"You will find," Sarek said, "that my blood type is T-negative. It is rare. That my two aides should be lacking this factor is highly unlikely."
"I, of course," Spock said, "also have T-negative blood."
"There are human factors in your blood that would have to be filtered out, Mr. Spock," Christine said. "You just couldn't give enough to compensate for that."
"Not necessarily," Spock said. "There is a drug which speeds up replacement of blood in physiologies like ours . . ."
"I know the one you mean," McCoy said. "But it's still experimental and has worked only on a Rigellian. The two physiologies are similar, but not identical. Even with the Rigellian, it put a tremendous strain on the liver and the spleen, to say nothing of the bone marrow—and I'd have to give it to both of you. Plus which, I've never operated on a Vulcan. I've studied Vulcan anatomy, but that's a lot different from having actual surgical experience. If I don't kill Sarek with the operation, the drug probably will; it might kill both of them."
Sarek said, "I consider the safety factor to be low, but acceptable."
"Well, I don't," McCoy said, "and in this Sickbay, what I think is law. I can't sanction it."
"And I refuse to permit it," Amanda said. "I won't risk both of you . . ."
"You must understand, Mother," Spock said. "The chances of finding sufficient T-negative blood otherwise are vanishingly small. I would estimate them at . . ."
