He caught her wrist again and stopped her from moving. "What you are not saying," he said, "is that it is almost what it was for Spock. It is your life—isn't it?"
"No," she lied.
But he reached up to catch her shoulder and pulled her down. "Your mistake," he said. "Did you suppose either one of us would allow that?"
Then his lips found hers, and she knew that he was right, whatever danger or impossibility it might lead to, there was no way, even, that she could find Spock until she had finished with this—if it could be finished. This moment, at least, was theirs, and must be. . . .
Chapter 23
Spock seemed to have lost the fragile thread of direction he had been following. Perhaps something had disturbed it. He had sensed a kind of turbulence in the tenuous sense of presence which he had followed—danger, close brushes with death. Then there was some interruption toward the end which he could not read, some peculiar intensity of emotion. . . .
Now he stopped, having no guide except the previous direction. He could no longer be certain that he was not hurling himself away from his own quarry. From one of them—or both of them …
He stayed for a moment in the fork of a great tree, questing, thinking. Then he set off, altering his course slightly and redoubling his pace.
He had been aware for some time from his height in the trees of the volcanic crater which loomed ahead and slightly to his right. It was in the general direction of the last trace of directional awareness he had had.
But more than that, he knew the man who was his Captain. If he lived, Kirk would sooner or later catch a glimpse of the volcano, and when he did, he would head for it. The mathematical probability approached certainty.
Kirk would storm any citadel rather than move without purpose. And Spock knew from previous sensor analysis that this geo-thermal-powered citadel was essentially impregnable and quite probably a layer-on-layer trap aimed precisely at them.
Sola would doubtless have some idea of that danger. But if she found Kirk first—or if she already had—she would undoubtedly consider joining him in the assault. That was, of course, assuming that she was in any condition to do so.
Spock had been gratified to sense that she had yielded to the logic of the situation and pursued the mate-hunt after Kirk. She would have known that Spock would accept no other solution.
But he was quite certain that there was also a danger for her in any form of mate-hunt. And his earlier weakness—or perhaps even his strength—might well have condemned her to a danger he did not know. Kirk had sent her back to him, once. If he attempted to do so here, the results might be catastrophic, possibly even fatal for her. And if he did not …
If he did not, Kirk would almost certainly become bonded to her, irrevocably. That would unleash her powers to make her the Totality's weapon. And Kirk would become the hostage to fortune which the Totality would use to control Sola.
In that event there was virtually zero probability that Spock would ever see either of them again.
Spock moved down into the lower terrace of branches, sensing that he was close enough that he might pick up some actual trail or trace. He had better arrive first. Intercept Sola. Interrupt. She would be much less vulnerable to the use of Spock as a hostage, and he was better equipped to survive the Totality.
He moved with more care, not wanting some hazard to claim him now. Fortunately as a Vulcan he was even reasonably well-equipped to survive here.
Spock stopped. On the jungle floor below he saw the body of some large animal. It looked as if it had been stopped by a blue spear. He half-climbed, half-dropped down to it—a fairly easy matter in the less-than-Vulcan gravity.
The spear was a length of crude bamboolike fibrous growth, and he knew who would have used it.
Spock turned at a sound behind him and found himself facing a very large erect, manlike creature—covered in glossy black silver-tipped hair. It was half-again his height and six times his weight. And by the tooth structure, which was bared at him, it was carnivorous.
It appeared to be a semi-intelligent local equivalent of a large anthropoid, perhaps similar to Earth's legendary Bigfoot, but with overtones here of saber-toothed cave-bear.
Spock considered that it was in all probability gregarious and also hunted in packs.
He had possibly been somewhat hasty in assessing his capacity to survive here, Spock decided.
Then the man-thing attacked him.
Kirk pulled away from Sola with a sudden sense of acute unease—danger, some urgent warning …
Suddenly he saw the same sense in her eyes.
He had noticed the communicator she had. "Call the ship," he said. "Make sure Spock hasn't beamed down."
She shook her head. "The communicator does not work here. But also—Spock was beamed down a moment after you were—to offer me a choice."
He was suddenly on his feet. "Then he's out there!"
She moved for the door. "I stood no chance of finding him, once committed to you. He will have been on our trail."
"You should have gone after him," he said.
She merely looked at him, and he saw what the choice had cost her—and that the interruption now might cost her life. "Stay here," she said, and was suddenly off through the trees.
He knew she was probably right in telling him to stay put. He was not in the best shape, and he was too slow in the trees. He could too easily get lost or fall afoul of some other predator.
But he had some sense that Spock was in mortal danger. She had left him the phaser on her weapon belt in the cave. He reached in and got it.
But he knew that all of that was largely rationalization. He would have gone bare-handed.
He moved off through the trees, trying to follow her vanishing form or, at least, her direction—although he had some sense that he could find the action himself.
Something had aimed him like an arrow …
Sola arrived in time to see Spock drop one of the silver-tipped man-hunters with a Vulcan nerve-pinch.
He was locked in the embrace with a force which had been close to snapping even a Vulcan spine before he could reach the nerve-hold. The manling fell as if axed.
But its band came out of the underbrush and began to close on the Vulcan.
He put his foot on the body of the fallen male and tried Sola's trick of projecting a psionic message of triumph and strength—a kind of primitive I-am-Spock, I-rule-here.
The manling band stopped. Then one of the young males stepped out and prepared to close with the Vulcan. The young male's challenge was at least superior to the alternative—a mass attack by the band. If Spock could close with them one at a time, he might at least delay the outcome.
However, he could not conceivably win against the faster, stronger young manling.
She saw—and sensed psionically—that no fiber of Spock's being, no scent, no psionic aura, acknowledged the possibility of defeat.
That in itself was a powerful deterrent. The young male hesitated. Sola waited. There was the faintest chance, slim but conceivable, that the manling would be bluffed out and withdraw. Their dawn-age minds should not be able to confront this confident, apparently fearless prime male from another world. Some things cut across species and even world-lines.
Her single wrist-coil was not a sufficient weapon against a concerted attack by this large band.
Then one of the younger males jeered, urging the challenging male on—in their prelingual word-sounds, questioning the young male's courage and his maleness.
The challenging male flung back an insult at the jeerers and charged Spock. The Vulcan met the charge, vaulting past the bull-manling to try to get on its back. But it was quick and young, with advantage of height, weight, reach. It caught him out of the air with one swipe of a long hand-paw and sent him reeling to slam against a tree.
Then Sola leaped down in front of Spock into the center of the manling band. That changed the nature of the conflict from male-clash to hunt-of-eating-enemy.
An older female moved toward her first, then they all started to close in.
"Get out of here," Spock snarled.
But she flicked out with the wrist-coil to stun the young male closing on Spock, then the old female. The female collapsed against her, almost taking her down.
Then the band made a concerted charge, and she was trying to pick them off with the coil. She could feel Spock at her back, fending off attackers with hands, feet, nerve-pinches.
For a moment she wished she had brought the phaser, but she could not leave Kirk unarmed, nor let him come.
Then she heard something from the trees and saw Kirk standing on a branch, trying to fire the phaser. Apparently they were to be permitted only one weapon. The phaser did not fire.
"Stay back!" she shouted to Kirk.
She felt the Vulcan turn, see Kirk, and say, "Stop!"
But it was already too late. Kirk had brought his ironwood club and with it he dropped down into the middle of the fray and threw himself between an animal and Sola. The club was a hopelessly inadequate weapon against the great manlings. But he waded in as if he did not know that, or care.
She found the wrist-coil flickering with an inspired precision which she could never have summoned by an effort of will. It wove a sudden net of protection around her vulnerable, insufferably brave chosen-mate-to-be. Or was it around both of her choices? For she felt now again the pull of Spock.
In either case the manlings suddenly sensed some terrible unity among the three strange beings. The first strange-male redoubled his efforts and locked his hands together to chop with clubbed hands. The smaller male scored with his club on vulnerable spots. The strange-female was possessed.
The manlings turned suddenly, dragging their wounded, their stunned, away with them.
After a long moment the clearing was quiet. Three figures still stood in the center of it. Then two of them turned on the other one.
"I told you to stay at the tree-cave," Sola said.
"And I," Spock added, "to stay out of this fight."
Kirk sighed and looked considerably the worse for wear, but unrepentant. He could not quite repress a grin at the sight of Spock, alive.
"So—sue me," he said.
Sola saw the Vulcan severely tempted to some less civilized form of dealing with that particular illogic. Or perhaps she merely projected her own temptation.
"You could have been killed, twice over, on your way here," she said. "But there might have been some small excuse for coming with the phaser. There was none for jumping down when it failed to fire. At best you gave us more to protect—and more to distract us. You are far more vulnerable than a Vulcan, untrained for this, and armed only with a twig which a juvenile manling could take away from you."
He sobered and looked at her squarely. "That's quite true. And could I have failed to do it? What would you then expect me to do with the rest of my life?" He smiled then. "Besides, you may have noticed that you did such a job of protecting me that you won."
For once she was silent. She had noticed it. And she had noticed that his illogic should have made her turn toward the Vulcan's welcome sanity. In fact, it did. But she was surprised to notice that there was also some powerful element in her which loved that quality in the Human, however dangerous or illogical it was. There was some deep, primitive response to the male who would throw himself between his mate and the predator. It was not a survival characteristic—for the male. But it was for his mate and his seed …
Chapter 24
Spock noted that there was some different footing between the other two, but he was unable to determine its exact nature.
His conjecture did not square with the wound-tight tension he sensed in Sola. Unless his danger had interrupted something.
"I recommend we adjourn from the immediate vicinity," he said. There were still stirrings in the underbrush, and the stun effect of the wrist-weapon was of uncertain duration.
"Agreed, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, and looked somewhat dubiously at the trees, which offered no easy route of ingress for him at the moment. There were one or two climbs which might be attempted by an active Vulcan or a trained Zaran. Spock noted that although Kirk had come by the trees, he walked with a limp, which would make every step a hazard.
Sola was inspecting the terrain with the same eye. "Ground travel is impossible. Every predator within scent or hearing of our three separate battles will be converging on this area. And in moments the light will fail, and we cannot travel at all—certainly at least not until moonrise. We must reach a place of safety."
"Where?" Kirk asked.
"Where we were," she said, and Spock saw the Human look a little startled.
"There?" he said.
"The tree-serpent, on Zaran, at least, ordinarily does not return to a tree-cave it has lost. Nor do other predators usually approach it. Anything which has defeated a treedragon is presumed formidable."
Spock took a look at his particular Human St. George, somewhat bedraggled now, and tried to visualize that Human's historic encounter with a dragon which even other predators here would respect.
Kirk shook his head. "It wasn't me, Mr. Spock. She was—formidable."
Spock indicated the dead feline-ursine creature which had encountered the blue bamboo. "That also was not your handiwork?"
Kirk shrugged an admission. "Necessity is a mother, Mr. Spock. Let's go." He indicated a leg up for Spock to a likely climb to the trees. But Spock was able to jump to catch a handhold and in a moment he was up and leaning down to pull the Human up. Sola covered them from the ground, then also jumped to accept a lift from Spock.
For a moment as he lifted her their eyes met, and he was surprised to sense that there was no wall between them, no silencing of the carrier-hum of communication which had started to form between them. Was it possible, then, that there had been no bonding? But in that event, he must still fear for her life.
He put the question aside as they moved off. Sola led, picking footing which would be as safe as possible for Kirk with his injured ankle. Spock covered the rear, staying close enough for a quick lunge if the ankle gave way.
Kirk set his teeth and moved.
Before they reached their objective the sudden tropic night had fallen, becoming black as moonless Vulcan. Here the thick jungle even obscured the starlight.
Sola dropped back to guide Kirk step by step now. To the Human it must have been as black as the inside of a sealed chamber. The Zaran woman must have retained some slight vision. Spock managed.
Then Sola stopped. For the first time she risked using the coil of energy from the wrist-weapon as a light. It flared briefly and lit a woven bower of branches and a large cave in the huge trunk of a life-tree. Both were empty.
There was a roar on the ground. Spock looked down to see an unmistakable dragon, large, not to be compared to the dragons of Berengaria.
Its thick tail alone was the size of a Terran anaconda, perhaps twenty-five feet long. Its neck was almost equally long. It could have reached them in the trees.
Spock braced for attack, but Sola sent another flare of the wrist weapon in its direction, not touching it. But it had evidently learned its lesson and recoiled, hissing disconsolately. The hissing was perhaps digestive gas, and Spock saw suddenly the crackle from the dragon's mouth of an electrical charge, perhaps like the electrical eels of Earth, or the great eel-birds of Regulus.
The gas caught fire and shot up toward them like a flamethrower. Spock made a move to cover the other two, but Sola snapped out with the wrist-coil again as she dodged the flame.
The flame stopped. Spock turned in the light of small burning branches to see the fire-dragon shake its great head and turn away. Spock moved out and snapped off the dry, burning branches of the bower, brought them back to the mouth of the cave, and found a ledge of living wood damp with sap, which would not soon burn. On it he laid the burning branches out to form a small campfire.
"It would appear our position has already been advertised suff
iciently," he said. "I see no harm in a fire, and it may offer some protection."
There was a certain primitive satisfaction in sharing a fire after the dangers met and shared. And he saw an appreciation of that in the eyes of the other two as he tamed and brought the fire.
But this was not a fire Spock could share. It was clear enough to him that Sola had made her choice and that Kirk had accepted it. The chance of an interruption by danger could not be an argument. And to impose his presence might well cost her life. Spock sensed the unresolved tension mounting toward physiological overload.
He reached in and picked up the useless phaser Kirk had brought back. "If you will excuse me," Spock said, "I will see to the phaser and stand watch."
He turned without allowing a reply and moved rather stiffly to the far corner of the fire-dragon's bower, taking a torch with him and propping it as a solitary fire and light. He started to look at the phaser, focusing all his concentration on that, ignoring low voices in the tree-cave.
After a few moments he heard footsteps behind him. He didn't look, but he knew who it was.
"You wouldn't be 'going off into the night,' Mr. Spock?"
Spock looked up as Kirk sat down beside him. "I am attempting to repair a phaser and to stand watch. I expect to be some time."
"Spock," Kirk said, "she came after me because I didn't stand a snowball's chance. She counted on you to survive."
Spock shrugged. "That was the only logical choice," he said, "as I attempted to convey to her. However, the reason of choice does not alter the choice." He looked at Kirk. "Not for her, not for you. Nor would I change it. Go to her now."
Kirk shook his head.
"Jim," Spock said, "I once told you that the woman you loved, Edith Keeler, had to die—for the fate of the galaxy. I saw no other solution, but it was you who had to live with the decision, and the loss. I will not see you lose again."
Kirk was silent for a long moment. "You know, then. Or you've guessed. At least—I guessed when she found me, that it was her life, too. That's why—"
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