noise he has lived with all his life until
one day it finally
stops. The internal hum of the Enterprise's
engines,
the whine of the turbolift, the flat mechanical
voice of
the computer . . . he'd never noticed how loud his
technologically superior world was, until now,
sitting
in this very quiet place, listening to the crackle and
hiss of Natahia's fire.
Perhaps her people had a point.
"A bloody shame," Scott said into the fire,
his face
glowing from the heat. He too seemed half
hypnotized
by the quiet inside the hut.
"What's that?"
"It's just a bloody shame for anyone to think of
attackin' these people. They mean no one any harm,
and it's such a lovely place."
"I can't remember when I was in a place that was
more beautiful."
Scott sighed. "Being here almost makes
up for shore
leave."
"Almost," Kirk agreed. "Tell you what,
Scotty. If
you and Spock get those shields up and we can be
sure
we've cleaned up all the pirates caught under
it, maybe
I can convince Star Fleet to let us kill two
birds with
one stone and send our people down."
"I'd be all for that, Captain. I just hope that
Natahia
person wouldn't object. She doesn't seem
to be too
keen on outsiders--" He broke off as
Natahia emerged
from behind the curtain.
She gestured toward Kirk. "Your Doctor
McCoy
says that you may ask Grower Mahali some questions
now if you like." She held the tapestry aside for
Kirk
and followed him into the room, where she watched
silently from a corner.
Definitely not one to trust outsiders.
The only light in the room came from a torch that
MINDSHADOW
flickered on the wall. The small form that
McCoy
hovered over was nearly obscured by the shadows;
Kirk could hardly see its wounds, but he
realized with
horror the overpowering smell which filled the room
came from burned flesh, not the wood from the fire.
"Burning phasers," McCoy hissed
furiously.
"I thought those had been outlawed by just about
everybody."
"They have. Renegades must have done this. I
don't even think the Klingons would stoop so low."
McCoy's hypospray hissed, and he
straightened over
the small figure stretched out on a blanket
on the floor.
"He's coming to now, Jim. He's badly burned
and in
shock, but he can answer a few easy questions.
Natahia
says his name is Mahali."
The golden man stirred painfully. Kirk
knelt on the
floor next to him, swallowing his revulsion as the
smell
of charred flesh intensified. "Mahali . . .
when you
were attacked this morning, what did you see?"
Mahali's thin high-pitched voice was cracked
and
tearful. "In the sky, silver triangles . .
. light poured
from them, and heat. It burned our crops."
"How many ships?"
"Two. No time to run..." His voice became
a sob.
"My sons... my sons..."
"Surface fighters," Kirk murmured.
"What are they?" Natahia spoke suddenly from
the
dark corner.
"A type of vessel used by certain of the
Federation's
enemies, and also by some renegade pirate
groups."
Natahia turned to McCoy. "Can you
help him,
Doctor?"
"He'll live, Natahia. But it will be some time
before
he's completely recovered."
She nodded almost gratefully and led Kirk
outside to
Scott and the fire. He was relieved to get
away from
the smell of the Aritanian's burns.
"Grower Mahali had five sons this morning,"
she
said softly. "Now he has none."
Scott stood up in his place in front of the
fire. "It's a
terrible thing that these raiders have done to your
people, ma'am. This is a lovely place and I
kinna
understand why they would want to harm ye or your land .
But you can believe Captain Kirk when he says
that we'll put an end to it."
"I hope that you are right. I cannot understand them
myself. They take nothing from us that I can see. They
kill the growers, then destroy the crops
and the
land. They do not even eat the food. It is a
horrible
waste."
"Have you done anything to try to protect yourselves,
such as banding together?"
"Growers do not band together, Captain, for battle
or any other purpose. Each family takes
care of its
own needs; we value our autonomy. We have
no
weapons, and so we are helpless against the
pirates."
"There is something here, Natahia, which is very
valuable to the pirates, or they would not be
attacking
your people. Even renegades must have a reason for
staying and killing in one area for so long. When
Mr.
Spock returns, perhaps he can tell us what the
pirates
are looking for."
She moved toward the door of the hut and peered
out into what was now inky darkness. "He should
have returned by now. It's very dangerous for
one
alone in the darkness near the mountains. The
animals
prowl, and one can easily lose one's step along
the
edge of the plateau."
Kirk looked beyond her at the moonless night, but
could see nothing. "It's been more than five
minutes,
MINDSHADOW
hasn't it? Spock is very punctual . . .
maybe we'd
better go look for him."
"You must wait until morning. It isn't safe
--"
"We have weapons and light. I'm sure that
Spock
can protect himself, but he's been gone longer than
he
said he would, and that isn't like him. Scotty!"
"Coming, sir."
"Natahia, if we're not back in fifteen
minutes, have
Dr. McCoy call the ship."
Her expression was anxious. "I hope
that you find
your friend, Captain."
"We will," Kirk said confidently.
They found him.
They had searched the area near the mountains
where the plateau broke off abruptly, beginning
again
after a drop of some four hundred feet. Scott
put off suggesting that they turn the handlight on the
plateau
below until they had searched everywhere else.
Re
luctantly,
Scott peered down, careful of his own steps
along the edge of the drop. Kirk searched a short
distance away; the height was beginning to make him
dizzy, and his eyes were refusing to focus on the
slender beam of light so far below.
He was calling the Enterprise to tell Chekhov
to
search with the scanners when-he saw Scott stiffen
and
draw his head up quickly, and he knew with
heartsickening
certainty what the engineer saw. He ran
to Scott's side, and, clutching his arm, was
compelled to
look down at what he could not bear to see.
"Dear
God, Spock!"
Spock lay on his left side on a bed of the
tangling red
vines.
McCoy's face was gray as he leaned against the
wall
in sick bay. "He'll make it, Jim."
Kirk closed his eyes and let his body go limp
with
relief. They had not expected Spock
to survive.
"I've reconstructed the damaged part of his
skull,
set the broken bones. One lung was punctured,
but
that'll mend." McCoy paused.
"But?" Kirk stiffened. He knew that tone; it
meant
that the doctor was saving the worst for last.
"There's been a significant amount of damage
to the
left hemisphere of the brain."
Kirk drew a weary hand across his forehead and
stared dully at McCoy. "What are you trying
to tell
me? What will that do to Spock?"
"There are a lot of variables involved, Jim.
We
won't know exactly for a little while yet. I'll
have to do some testing."
Kirk's tone became indignant. "You can do
something
for him, can't you?"
McCoy sighed deeply, and when he spoke again
there was a slightly sharp edge to his words.
"I've
done what I can for him, Captain. We're
treating him
with alpha-dextran for ischemia in those brain
cells that
survived but were cut off from the blood flow--but I
can't reconstruct brain tissue that was
completely
obliterated, and it's too specialized to clone.
It's likely
that at least a few functions have been
impaired--comwh
ones permanently, I don't know yet. What
we
have to hope for is that Spock will retrain the
undamaged
brain cells to take over the functions of those that
were lost.
"And some functions have definitely been affected.
He hasn't gone into the Vulcan healing mode and
he
isn't controlling the pain. I've got him on
medication
for that. From the location of the damage, he probably
has some speech impairment... but then, I'm
guessing.
You see, Vulcans don't have lateralization of
function as we humans do. that is, the left
side of the
MINDSHADOW
brain controlling certain functions and the right others.
The Vulcan brain has an area controlling
speech on
each side of the brain. If one hemisphere is
damaged,
the other can take over. It's sort of an
auxiliary
backup system. They're also ambidextrous.
Since neither
hemisphere is dominant, neither side of the body
is either."
"But Spock's right-handed," Kirk protested.
"That's right. Comes from his mother's side Of the
family. That indicates that certain functions are
probably
located on one side of his brain, just as they are
in
humans. And if he has experienced some
damage to a
function that is not lateralized in both
hemispheres, he
will need some type of therapy so that he can relearn
the function. But he is a unique case. If
he were all
Vulcan or all human, I'd be able to use the
standardized
tests on him and I'd know a little bit more right
now."
"Look, Bones... I didn't mean to sound
hostile for a minute there..."
McCoy nodded, his lips curving slightly in
something
less than a tired smile. "It's all right,
Jim. I'm
just sorry I can't tell you more right now, but I'm
going to have to watch and wait myself. I've already
put in a request for a Vulcan neurologist."
"I wouldn't hold my breath," Kirk said. Star
Fleet
was notoriously slow about such matters.
"I won't. And Jim . . ." His face
darkened again.
"Don't hold yours, either. He'll pull through,
but it'll
be a long time before he's the old Spock again."
He did
not say, if ever.
Kirk looked beyond McCoy into the dimness of the
intensive care unit in sick bay. The light
of the life-function
monitor softly illuminated the figure on the
bed below. Spock lay on his back now, his face
as
peaceful as it had been when Jim and Scott had
first
found him; but this time his damaged left side was
visible. Kirk repressed a shudder. He and
McCoy had
waited by Spock's side in the darkness for the
transporter
to beam them aboard, McCoy insisting that
Spock not be moved except by the medical team
waiting in the transporter room. The real
horror came
in the brightness of the transporter room, where Kirk
could see the extent of Spock's injuries
clearly, when
McCoy and a medic gently turned Spock over
to place
him on the stretcher, revealing for the first time his
crushed left side.
Kirk could not remember ever having been so
terrified
by the sight of anything before.
McCoy had done an excellent job of
reconstructing
the Vulcan's damaged left temple, but in
spite of the
surgery, Spock's pale face was mottled with
dark
green bruises. His left eye was nearly
swollen shut.
"Jim," McCoy said softly, reading the pain in
his
friend's face. "I think you're overdue for some
rest.
When's the last time you got some sleep?"
Kirk murmured something unintelligible.
"Look, let me give you something to help you
sleep--"
"No thanks, Doctor. I'd just as soon
keep busy for a
little while longer..." He looked at McCoy
sharply. was One might ask you the same question."
"I... uh, I'm going to keep an eye on
Spock for just
a little while longer .... his
Kirk closed his eyes and pushed the image of
Spock
in the transporter room firmly from his mind.
> "Bones,
call me when he comes to. I'll be on the
bridge. I have
some questions that need to be answered."
Kirk avoided all eyes on the
bridge and headed
straight for the con, his gaze fixed straight ahead
on
MINDSHADOW
the viewscreen where Aritani rotated slowly on
its
axis.
"Captain, Mr. Scott is calling from the
planet surface,"
Uhura said, but there was a hesitation, a kind of
catch in her voice, as though she wanted to ask a
question but did not dare. Kirk turned toward her in
irritation, not understanding until he saw the concern
in her eyes. He did not need to look behind him
to
know the others were watching him with the same
expression. Of course they had heard what
happened
on Aritani below, and after seeing the grim
expression
on their captain's face, they probably
expected the
worst.
"Mr. Spock will be . . . will live," he said
shortly.
Uhura's shoulders relaxed visibly; Kirk
could hear
Chekhov release a sigh behind him.
"On audio, sir," she smiled.
Kirk sat in his chair. "How's it going, Mr.
Scott?"
"The shield is up, Captain, and workin' just
fine. I'd
like to give Ensign Lanz some credit for the fine
job
she did helpin' me."
"Noted."
"How's Mr. Spock?"
"He'll live," Kirk repeated dully.
"Thank God, that was a horrible fall he took
--"
"Did you get a complete tricorder readout
yet on
those mountains?"
"Aye, Captain, and Mr. Spock was right
to suspect
something. The land's full of uritanium and
dilithium,
not to mention other precious metals."
Kirk put a weary hand to his forehead.
"Uritanium
and dilithium--no wonder these people have visitors."
"Aye, sir, anyone with mining equipment could
make more than a credit or two on this
planet."
"Good work, Scotty. We'll start beaming
personnel
down for shore leave in eight hours. In the
meantime,
we'll see if that shield of yours---"
"--and Ensign Lanz..".
"---and Ensign Lanz catches us some
pirates."
"Well, sir, if you ask me, it seems
terribly quiet and
peaceful down here, nary a peep of trouble.
Ensign
Lanz and I could take a little shore leave right
now." Scott wheedled.
"I'm not asking you, Engineer. No one will be
taking shore leave for another eight hours.
Spock said
their fuel could only keep them shielded for seven
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