Triangle

by Sondra Marshak

  After a time she lifted her head and looked down to him. "If that is their plan," she managed, "we are playing with anti-matter."

  He laughed softly. "We are, anyway." Then a thought struck him and the other part of his dream came back to him. "Sola—is Spock all right?"

  Some expression he could not read touched her face. "Spock is—quite all right."

  He was remembering now. "In the scoutship he said he was a dead man. And you—knew what he meant. You said only one act would save him. Sola—I can't have understood what you said."

  "You understood me perfectly."

  "That Spock would have to deal with you in some way? I saw him learn that in the clearing. And you are—not dreamed of in Vulcan philosophy. But then Spock himself was never exactly contemplated in Vulcan philosophy."

  "No."

  "He would find you—most uncommon." Kirk smiled. "But why not? And with those emotions which of course he does not have, he would be angry with you and with himself over what happened to me. Maybe the primitive Vulcan under that veneer would have liked to break your neck for you—or at least bend it. But Spock didn't do that, obviously." His eyes narrowed, seeing something dark on her jawline. "Or did he? Sola—I thought earlier that when he saw you—it triggered an old Vulcan pattern for him. I hoped I was wrong."

  He stopped and she did not answer, letting him work it out. He realized only then that there was some subtle change he had sensed in her, something she had been telling him without words.

  "You said—only one act, one choice could save him?"

  She nodded. "And I had only one choice, if he was Spock enough to save himself. I made it."

  His hand tightened on hers and then released it suddenly, as if he caught himself in some impropriety. "My mistake!" he said.

  She pulled her hand away sharply and started to rise. "Mine," she said. "That was the risk I took."

  His hand shot out and caught her wrist and pulled her down again with surprising power. "Stop that," he ordered. "If you made your choice, you can damn well stay until I understand it."

  Now he looked at her very hard and saw the strain, the effort, the pride. "Is it possible," he asked, "that you meant what you said—to both of us?"

  She laughed then. "They had to send the one man in the galaxy who would know that that was the right question."

  "Answer me."

  "Yes. Always. Exactly."

  "Tell me now, exactly."

  "Vulcan physiological control can be broken down. By too much mental contact, by Oneness, by personal affinity. Love. Or the need for it, the hope, the longing. And even by the philosophical search for a way out of the Vulcan box," Sola said. "If you exist, then Spock's Vulcan theory of non-emotion is already strained to the snapping point. But he has lived with that. If I also exist, my "logic" may be the straw which breaks his back."

  "Or—his heart?" Kirk said.

  "Literally," she said, "he was prepared to die, not to impose the consequences of his state on me—nor on any of your Human crew, who are much too fragile. I was not prepared to let him go, either. I told him he would leave you nowhere to go but Oneness. He was not prepared to leave you to that. But he was Vulcan enough to have no choice left—except one. And he was Spock enough to make it."

  "You—did it only to save his life?"

  "No. I would have done it for that. But that was not my reason. He is Spock."

  Kirk sighed. "Yes. He is."

  She lifted her head. "I had also another reason. There would have been no choice left for us if I had destroyed Spock. There is one now, and it is yours."

  "Did you tell Spock that?"

  "Yes. And that it was not treason."

  "Isn't it? Not for you, possibly. Sola—did you say that the choice is mine?"

  She nodded, suddenly wary. She saw effort in his face.

  "Then go to him."

  She pulled back as if he had hit her. This time he did sit up, heedless of the pain and of the room's lurching. He pulled her to him and held her as if it was a punishment for both of them. It was. He could not escape the too-specific vision of other arms holding her. And she could not forgive him for telling her to go—nor could she make herself pull away. He did not release her until they were both ravaged, knowing that it was a taste they should not have allowed. Drink deep—or taste not …

  "Did you suppose I would take you away from him now?" he asked.

  She shot to her feet and her eyes were angry. "Yes! He does not require any favors."

  "I know what he does not require. And what he does. Sola, I have broken my—anatomy—trying to get Spock out of that box. And if you have done it—even for a moment—" He shook his head. "If you saw Prometheus chained to his rock, and still keeping on, dragging chains, rock, vultures, and all—and then for a moment he was free …"

  He held himself up by the strength of her hand and looked at her as if he would break her in half. "Is the choice mine?" he demanded.

  She lifted her head and met his eyes. "Yes."

  "Then, when you leave this room, you will not come back unless in the line of duty. You do not have to remember that I exist. Whatever might have been, these next days, at least, cannot be mine. You will go to him, and you will be to him—what you are. Will you do it?"

  Sola was on her feet suddenly, standing rigidly, as if in the military manner of facing punishment. Her face was the battlefield of some sense that it was flatly impossible—and the sudden realization that it was not.

  "I did give you my word," she said flatly.

  "Not as punishment," he said. "Not if it is punishment."

  "And if it would not be?" she asked, not sparing him, clearly not wanting to.

  He set his jaw. "Then go."

  "For him?" she asked.

  He knew that she saw the weakness hitting him again. "Yes," he said. "And for me. You haven't finished with Spock. You may never finish with him. Sola, I am the galaxy's greatest living expert on Spock. If you've seen him begin to shake off the vultures, you could not have eyes for anything else. Not now. I may pin his Vulcan ears back for him"—he was shaking now and he could barely sit up—"later," he said ruefully, and she caught him and eased him back down.

  She felt his forehead, smoothed it out with a touch of the life-energy until the shaking quieted. "Idiot," she said. "I am the fool. I will go now. But I will be back."

  He caught her hand. "No. You gave me the choice."

  She met his eyes then. "I cannot answer for what I would feel for the Spock who would exist at the end of those days."

  "Don't you suppose I know that?" he said harshly. "But don't you know—I want to set that Spock free, too? I've broken my head to jar that Spock loose, for years."

  She merely stood and looked at him, for once at a loss. "You have said the one thing which would make me go—and you have made it impossible."

  He grinned weakly. "You'll manage. I want—that Sola, too."

  "I wanted that Sola—from you."

  "I would have liked that," he said. "My fault. I should have tracked you to the ends of the galaxy, years ago."

  "Yes," she said, and he heard the edge in her voice. "You should have."

  He lifted his head, and he knew that his eyes were angry with her. "You knew where I was." He jerked his head toward the door. "Call Spock."

  "Spock?" she said, startled.

  He nodded. "I can afford the luxury."

  She stepped to the intercom. "So can he."

  Before she could touch it the doors opened and Spock stood in them.

  "Mr. Spock, report," Kirk said.

  "On the ship?" Spock asked involuntarily.

  "Certainly on the ship, Mr. Spock," Kirk said with a certain wicked innocence. Short of pinning the Vulcan's ears back, that tone would have to do.

  "All vital systems appear to be—functional," the Vulcan said, possibly not to be outdone in innocence.

  "Including yours, Mr. Spock?" Kirk looked pointedly at the Vulcan himself.

 
; "I was referring primarily to mechanical systems, Captain."

  "Indeed. Very well. Carry on, Mr. Spock."

  "Sir?" The Vulcan sounded faintly scandalized.

  "Dismissed, Mr. Spock. You have—the con, among other things—until further notice. I won't need you."

  "Sir," Spock said firmly, beginning to get the picture, and not certain that he liked it. "I am entirely—functional."

  "I never doubted it," Kirk said. "I, however, am not, at the moment. Get out of here, both of you, and let me loaf."

  For a moment he saw Spock catch Sola's eye and see that she was rather proud of both of them.

  "I see," Spock said. "Recommendation noted, Captain. I shall, however, be rather busy with command duties. Since you are not fit, I will give you a full report—later."

  He started to turn.

  "Spock!" Kirk said in a tone which would have cut glass. "Now, Mr. Spock."

  Spock turned back, but now the private man dropped away and the command officer remained, looking at Kirk with the unspoken respect of their years. "Captain," he said, "we are Condition Seven, under alien mental attack. I must conclude that you are a primary target, perhaps the primary target, and that Sola's presence may be related to your danger. Crew members have been made to unlock essential locks and sabotage reporting systems. We have detected on the planet below camouflaged geo-thermal power readings and intelligent life-form readings in a solitary volcano near the clearing where Sola landed. It is doubtless the starship-trap advance base of the Zaran Totality. Our crew is being taken over, and the Enterprise will, at the present rate, swiftly fall prey to the Marie Celeste syndrome."

  Kirk merely looked at him for a moment, then he swung his legs down and stood up. Sola was close enough to catch him as he fell. . . .

  Chapter 14

  Spock also was there in a moment to lift the Human back to the diagnostic bed.

  "It's all right, Spock," Kirk murmured. "Just—legs wouldn't hold me."

  "Be still," Spock ordered. He signaled for McCoy.

  Sola was putting her hands on Kirk's face. McCoy came through the door as if he had already been under full warp drive. He did not even pause but ran a scanner over Kirk. Kirk waved them both away.

  "First," Kirk said, "check Gailbraith. It's just coming to me, what I half-remembered in the dream. Gailbraith was out of isolation before. He warned me before we left the ship that I would find what I needed—on the planet. He came to me in the Pool One area."

  "Why did you not tell me this before?" Spock asked.

  Kirk shook his head. "There was some form of mental contact. I believe that he blocked the memory. It began to come back while I was unconscious."

  "Why did the Ambassador come to you in Pool One?"

  Kirk sighed rather reluctantly. "I was drowning, Mr. Spock."

  "I am a fool," Spock said. He stepped to the intercom. "Security to Sickbay."

  "I'm all right, Mr. Spock. No damage done."

  Spock looked at him bleakly. "How would you know that? You were exposed in a vulnerable condition to an alien mind force of unknown powers—which was powerful enough to make you forget the incident. Moreover, the isolation-locks on the VIP Quarters cannot be released from the inside. Gailbraith must already have controlled some member of the Enterprise crew who unlocked them for him."

  Kirk grimaced. "You're right. Run a full personnel check."

  "There is something else," Spock said.

  "There have been times when you have been in mortal danger and I have sensed it. This time I sensed nothing. But your distress was answered."

  Kirk frowned. "You are saying—I was in touch with Gailbraith's Oneness more than with you. You believe I am being drawn into it?"

  "If we are to fight it, we must, in logic, acknowledge the possibility."

  "It is possible to develop a certain taste for Oneness, Mr. Spock, as you know. However, I believe I am still—the last amoeba."

  "Captain," Sola said, "I have become a danger to you and possibly to Spock."

  There still managed to be some trace of a wry amusement in Kirk's eyes. "We'll manage."

  She shook her head. "You do not understand. I am a Zaran female. If I am irrevocably drawn toward a life-bond commitment my powers become an unknown, not under my control. They may amplify any Oneness effect—draw you into it against your will. The Totality may be able to use me. I am a danger to the whole ship."

  The amusement left. Kirk looked at her gravely. "What can we do about that?"

  She stood straighter. "I must leave the ship."

  "No," Kirk said flatly. "Whatever we do, it will not be that."

  "Spock," she said. "Logic. There is no alternative."

  "No," Spock said. "Someone has been at some pains to arrange our encounter. If we attempt to evade the engagement, we will doubtless have to face the issue again in a form which may be still more dangerous."

  "In a word, Spock," McCoy interpreted, "logic be hanged. You won't let her go."

  "One cannot hang logic, Doctor," Spock answered. "But one can be sorely tempted."

  "You won't let her go?" McCoy persisted.

  "No."

  "Spock is right," Kirk said. "It is logic, even if it is also what we want. We have to make our stand—together."

  "You, too?" McCoy asked.

  "Do you say 'go,' Bones?"

  McCoy looked at Sola wryly, as if knowing how much simpler his life—and his job—could have been. "No, confound it," he said.

  Kirk smiled. "Mr. Spock, you will follow my original request. Sola, I will ask you to assist Mr. Spock in this crisis. Dismissed."

  Spock looked at Kirk and understood entirely.

  "I do not require any—assistance," Spock said.

  Kirk's gesture stressed that he was flat on his back. "You're not getting any. I'll take it up with you—later, Mr. Spock. Get going. That is an order."

  McCoy looked from one to the other and read them like a scanner. "One second," he interposed. "While you have been dealing with—whatever—we've got more trouble. Mr. Dobius appears to have been taken over by a Oneness. Or, maybe—I may be going crazy—but I'd almost say he was taken over by two."

  "How, Bones?" Kirk shifted instantly back to the command mode.

  "When I checked him—and went looking for Spock—one brain half was attuned to Gailbraith's Oneness. The other showed some strange, similar pattern but not the same pattern. Maybe Sola's Totality?"

  "You may be right, Bones," Kirk said. "Get everything you can on that second pattern."

  "I just tried. No luck. In those few minutes both strange brain patterns faded. Mr. Dobius now seems to be perfectly normal."

  "You believe the effect was temporary?" Sola asked.

  "I wish I did," McCoy said gloomily. "I think it's still there—but with no visible symptoms now. It has—masked itself. I think even Mr. Dobius doesn't know it—but I believe he still is or can be under someone's control. And there is no way at all to detect it now."

  "Are you saying," Kirk asked, "that if someone—say, me—was affected, he might not know it—and after some brief period it would not be detectable?"

  "I believe," McCoy said glumly, "that is what I said."

  Kirk again tried to move and knew the utter frustration of helplessness. His ship was under attack. Spock was facing perhaps the crisis of his life. They were quite possibly holding a finger in the dike which could crumble to engulf the galaxy in Oneness. He himself might already have started to crumble on that front.

  "Bones," he said, "you'd better give me whatever it takes to get me on my feet. I can't sit this one out."

  "I'm a doctor, not a magician," McCoy said. "You're staying put."

  "Bones—" Kirk said warningly.

  McCoy was making adjustments on a spray hypo. "This may make you feel a little better. It's not going to erase cumulative stress and near-fatal shock. And I don't know a cure for what else ails you." He flashed a glance at Sola.

  "That's all right, Bones." K
irk started to sit up, but the room started to rotate.

  "Mr. Spock," he said, "you have your orders. Go check the crew by any means which you, Sola, or the medical department can devise. Set double watches, no one to perform a critical function alone. You and Sola check each other. Don't come back, except in line of duty."

  Spock merely looked at him for a long moment, and Kirk thought for that moment that he would refuse. "Captain," he said finally, and turned to go, gathering Sola up with him without touching her.

  She looked back for a moment at Kirk, as if to acknowledge that she was obeying his choice. But he saw that the current was still there between her and Spock, regardless of any effort by either one of them to resist it. He knew then that he had been right. Before anything else, she had to finish with Spock, if she could … and he had to make certain that the pon farr was not merely eased but finished, and that Spock would live.

  And—there was some subliminal thought which told Kirk that whoever had planned this for Kirk and Sola could not have reckoned with Spock. Did it give the three of them some subtle advantage if she was also drawn to both? Or did it double their danger?

  The door closed behind Sola and Spock.

  "What was that all about?" McCoy grumbled.

  "What would you diagnose, Bones?"

  McCoy snorted. "What I diagnose isn't even conceivable." He ran the scanner over Kirk. "If he weren't a Vulcan …" McCoy shrugged.

  "If he weren't?"

  "Love. Hate. Both. But he is, and you had better just tell me."

  "That's close enough, Bones."

  "But she's in love with you!" McCoy caught himself. "Sorry. But it was written all over her. And it looked to me like—you, too."

  Kirk sighed. "Bones, what if she is Spock's first real love? I wish I didn't think that she's—my last."

  McCoy groaned. "I said it wasn't even conceivable. That bad?"

  "That bad."

  Kirk felt the stimulant working and moved more cautiously now to get to his feet. The weakness and pain settled on him like a weight of impossibility. He knew then that he should not get up, but he bit down on the agony and did not let McCoy see the extent of his weakness. He could move because he had to move. But he knew it could not last. He started to dress.