Crucible: McCoy

by David R. George III

  “It’s a terrible thing,” Leonard said, his chin dipping and his eyes closing as he spoke. “Just when I think I’ve got the hang of life, I’m going to be checking out.”

  Leonard’s matter-of-fact mention of his own demise troubled Spock, though he knew as well as his friend the inevitability of death. “I would suggest that you ‘got the hang of life’ quite some time ago.” When Leonard did not respond right away, Spock continued. “You’ve had a distinguished career as a Starfleet officer, as a physician, as a researcher, and if I am to believe the words of your wife, as a husband. I am not saying that it is time to ‘check out,’ as you so colorfully put it, but by my reckoning, you have had a distinguished and happy life.” Again, Leonard did not say anything, and Spock suddenly grew concerned. He started to stand, but then Leonard spoke again, though without raising his head.

  “So is that all you’re doing on Vulcan?” he said. “Research and some teaching?”

  “It is a full schedule,” Spock said.

  “I suppose,” Leonard said. “But it just doesn’t sound like enough for you.”

  This time, Spock felt both eyebrows rise, impressed by his friend’s perceptiveness. He had never considered speaking to anybody about that with which he had recently become involved, but he chose to do so now. “That is a discerning observation,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I have begun having a dialogue with a man we both met seventy-three years ago.”

  “Seventy-three years?” Leonard said, his head still hanging down. At Khitomer?”

  “You’re memory and acuity are inspiring,” Spock said. “Yes, at Khitomer.”

  “Romulan?” Leonard asked.

  “Again, yes,” Spock said. “A senator back then, who still serves today.”

  “I see,” Leonard said. “And why would you be speaking to a Romulan?”

  “As you know, Vulcans and Romulans share a common ancestry,” Spock said. “Lately, on Romulus, the notion of the reunification of our two peoples has begun to spread.”

  “Reunification,” Leonard said, seeming to mull the concept over in his mind. “Might be a good thing. Might calm those arrogant, hot-tempered Romulans down, and might bring a little life to you arrogant, cold-hearted Vulcans.”

  “Your poetic notions of peaceful coexistence are well considered,” Spock said dryly. “I wish I could be as sanguine.”

  “You mean you’re not sure about reunification yourself?” Leonard asked.

  “I think it is a laudable goal,” Spock said. “But I am uncertain if there’s any significant possibility that it can actually happen.”

  Leonard lifted his head before he spoke, and his reply surprised Spock. “If you think it’s a good idea, but you’re not sure if it can happen, then isn’t it your responsibility to try to make it happen?”

  Spock contemplated this. “It is gratifying to know that you still wield your advice as deftly as you once did your medical instruments.”

  “Thank you, Spock,” Leonard said, and then lowered his voice and added, “Do what’s best for you.” He held Spock’s gaze for a long, meaningful moment before continuing in a more conversational tone. “So, tell me what research you’re involved with these days.”

  Spock did. He spent the rest of the day with Leonard. Tonia brought in a selection of vegetarian foods at noontime, and then a tray of tea and snacks in the late afternoon. Between the two light meals, Leonard drifted off to sleep for an hour and a half, and then as night descended, he tired again. Spock knew that the time had come for him to depart and allow Leonard to retire for the night.

  “I want to thank you for your hospitality,” he said, standing. He walked around the table and over to the other sofa.

  “I’m glad you came to see me, Spock,” Leonard said. “I know it’s a long way to come. I appreciate it.”

  Spock considered a response, and then he said, “Forget it, Bones.”

  McCoy blinked, then smiled. Spock reached down and squeezed his arm in a gesture of comradeship. Leonard’s body felt insubstantial, as if held together only by memories.

  Spock left the great room and found Tonia sitting out on the veranda. “Are you leaving?” she asked, rising from a rocking chair as he exited the house.

  “I am,” he said. “I have an appointment in the Federation Council chambers in the morning, but I thought I would come back tomorrow afternoon if that is agreeable with you.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Tonia said, and she reached forward and took his hands. “Thank you for coming, Spock,” she said. “I know it means a great deal to Leonard to see you.”

  “It also means a great deal to me,” Spock said. “Thank you for contacting me when you did.”

  Tonia nodded, then stood on her toes and kissed Spock on the cheek. “Good night,” she said.

  “Good night,” Spock said. He padded down the steps and along the front walk, toward the airpod he’d flown here from the transporter station. As he settled into the pilot’s seat, he thought that today had been a good day, and he felt…happy…that he had been able to spend time with his old friend.

  But as he operated the controls of the airpod, lifting the craft into the air, he feared that he would never see Leonard McCoy again.

  “I can smell the honeysuckle,” McCoy declared, delighted by the sweet scent. He sat in a rocking chair out on the veranda, peering out at the vibrant green of the lawn and the majestic forms of the white oak trees that bracketed the front walk. As best he could with his failing senses, he took in the beautiful Atlanta morning.

  Sitting in her own chair beside him, Tonia inhaled deeply. “Smells wonderful,” she said.

  They sat quietly, comfortably, for a little while, and McCoy’s mind drifted back to yesterday. “It was nice to see Spock,” he said.

  “I’m glad,” Tonia said. “I know I’m not supposed to say it about Vulcans, but he seems happy.”

  “Don’t ever let him hear you say that,” McCoy said. “But I think you’re right.”

  “We’ve got some very nice friends,” Tonia said.

  “And we’ve got each other,” McCoy replied. He reached for her, his arm trembling with the effort, and rested his hand atop hers. “I love you,” he said, gazing over at her.

  “I love you,” Tonia said.

  He peered back out at the yard, at the trees, and thought that no matter how it had started, he’d had a wonderful, happy life. He’d done good work, had enjoyed the company of close friends, and had shared much of his life with a loving partner. He knew that he could not have been more fortunate.

  And then he closed his eyes for the last time.

  Acknowledgments

  My thanks must necessarily begin with editor extraordinaire Marco Palmieri. The notion of commemorating the fortieth anniversary of Star Trek with, among other things, a novel trilogy originated with Marco, and I am grateful that he invited me along for the celebration. Always a pleasure to collaborate with, Marco brings artistry and creativity to his work, as well as unmatched professionalism. I consider myself fortunate indeed whenever I am afforded the opportunity to team with him on a project.

  I would also like to thank Alex Rosenzweig for his kind assistance. Over the course of a few years now, Alex has graciously consented to helping me hunt down and verify various obscure details of the Star Trek universe, in particular those developed in the literary fiction. Whenever I find myself in need of Trek information that I can’t readily locate, I know that I can always fire off a missive to him.

  In a similar vein, thanks to Christer Nyberg for his aid in nailing down data about those mostly silent members of the Enterprise crew portrayed by uncredited and often overlooked background actors. Though they frequently went unnamed, some of these characters recurred throughout the series, and every now and then some small piece of information about them would come to light. After I searched Christer’s website in vain for some such facts I needed, I emailed him directly, and he was kind enough to help me out personally.

  Than
ks, also, to Dr. Alan E. Shapiro, M.D., who generously agreed to review the few scenes in this novel that reference medical details, and to his superb assistant, Marina Camberos, who cheerfully helped deliver those scenes to Alan. Though I researched these as best I could before writing them, I’m not a medical doctor, and so I thought it would be beneficial to ask an actual physician to appraise them for verisimilitude. Perhaps next time I slide into second base, I won’t take Alan out in an attempt to break up a double play.

  On a very personal note, thank you to Audrey Ann Ragan. From the day I met her more than a decade ago, Audrey happily welcomed me into her family. Over the years, she could not have shown me any more love and kindness than she did. Gregarious and well-liked wherever she went, people were naturally drawn to Audrey. Quick to laugh at my jokes, always respectful of me, ever supportive, she occupied an important place in my life. I will miss Audrey for the rest of my days, and her beloved Walter continues to be an important part of my life.

  I am also grateful to have known Michael Piller. Many Star Trek fans will recognize Michael’s name from his time as head writer on The Next Generation, his role in creating Deep Space Nine and Voyager, and his Insurrection screenplay, but I knew him as one of the truly good men in Hollywood—or anywhere else. Scrupulously honest, dedicated to establishing relevant themes in all of his writing—referring to his craft, he once told me that his middle name was “About Something”—Michael leaves behind a bright public legacy. In private, he was a loving husband, a devoted father, and a good friend, and I am fortunate to have spent time with Michael and his sweet wife, Sandra. I keep Sandra, Shawn, and Brent in my heart and thoughts.

  I would also like to thank Martha and Brian Lovelace for their friendship. Always up for a film or a game of poker, they have been nothing but kind and supportive through the years. I have enjoyed our many late nights filled with laughter and conversation.

  Thanks also to Jennifer “CJ” George, a woman of great strength and character. Whether competing in a triathlon; woodworking; directing a play; performing stand-up comedy; creating a delicious dessert; or simply being a loving and supportive spouse, friend, sister, Jen is a role model for people of any age. I respect and admire her more than words can say, and I’m lucky to have her in my life.

  I’m grateful, too, to Patricia Walenista for her great love and support. An avid reader, a staunch sports fan, an expert and generous researcher in Civil War history, and a fervent voice for political ethics and accountability, she is a fascinating and fun woman. Strong and happy, she continuously brightens my life.

  Finally, thank you to Karen Ragan-George. No matter how many times I mention or write about Karen, my words do not do justice to her importance in my life. Brilliant, beautiful, soulful, funny, artistic, political, and so much more, she is a whirlwind of life. Karen epitomizes the Italian saying, Vive bene, spesso l’amore, di risata molto: Live well, love much, laugh often. Each day, just when it seems I could not love her more, I do. Karen is everything to me.

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