Star Trek-TOS-027-Mindshadow

by Kevin Underwood

  jumped back nervously, as though she had meant

  to

  slip into her room undetected.

  "T'Pala," Spock repeated. "My parents

  have been

  most concerned about you. They did not know

  whether to be alarmed by your disappearance. Will

  you be joining us for the evening meal?"

  Her eyes, though defiant, could not

  meet his. "No. I

  am preparing to leave Vulcan."

  Spock considered this silently for a moment.

  "Where will you go?"

  "Terra, I suppose. I haven't decided

  yet. But there

  is nothing for me here."

  "Did you speak to the admission committee about

  their decision--"

  "There is no point," she said vehemently,

  cutting

  him off. "The Vulcan path is not for me. The

  Vulcans

  feel no loyalty toward me, therefore, it is

  illogical for

  me to feel loyalty toward them."

  "T'Pala--"

  She held up her hand to silence him. "I will be

  gone

  before you rise tomorrow. You will not see me again."

  Spock sighed; there was clearly no point in

  pursuing

  the discussion. She had made her decision, just as

  he

  had once made a decision many, many

  years ago, to

  leave--comand even Amanda had been unable to dissuade

  him. "I, too, will be leaving Vulcan

  shortly," Spock

  said.

  T'Pala's expression changed abruptly; she

  looked at

  him with concern. "Are you certain you are well

  enough?"

  Spock nodded. "My father informs me that the

  Enterprise will arrive with the delegates to the

  Aritanian

  conference in approximately

  thirty-four-point-seven

  standard hours."

  T'Pala's eyes had become unreadable. "So

  the medication

  is working?"

  Spock paused. "Actually, I am no longer

  taking

  She could not restrain herself and interrupted him.

  "Spock, do you think that is wise? Have you

  consulted

  with the doctors about this?"

  He continued calmly. "--nevertheless, I

  seem to be

  improving. The medication was apparently quite

  useless."

  She persisted. "Not all medications work immediately.

  Sometimes it takes time for a medication to

  accumulate to a therapeutic level; and if that

  is the

  case, the positive effects may soon begin

  to wear off.

  Promise me you will consult the physicians."

  She seemed so genuinely distressed that Spock

  saw

  no reason to refuse. "Very well. Perhaps it would

  be

  wise to consult Dr. McCoy. You are certain

  you will

  not join us for the evening meal?" Perhaps Sarek

  would find some way to make her reconsider her

  decision.

  T'Pala shook her head and backed toward the

  door

  to her room.

  "In that case," Spock said in Vulcan,

  "live long,

  and prosper, T'Pala."

  "Good-bye," she whispered in English.

  He dreamed again that night of purple, and of the

  deepest shades of red, blue and orange. The

  colors

  shimmered, melted together, and then slowly sorted

  themselves into their proper places. Spock could see

  the purple mountains, the deep blue sky, the

  scarlet

  sun, which was setting and fading the sky to gray.

  HeMIN

  DSHADOW

  looked about, absorbed by the planet's beauty and the

  heady fragrance of blooming flowers...

  "Smell that," Jim Kirk said. Spock was

  glad to see

  him again, and called the captain's name, but Jim

  did

  not turn around, did not seem to hear him at all.

  He

  stood on the plateau and breathed in the scent of the

  wildflowers.

  Spock looked and saw Montgomery Scott,

  and

  Leonard McCoy; the four of them were together,

  walking in a very beautiful garden--very

  beautiful,

  and very dangerous. Spock decided to warn them, but

  the words that came out were not the ones he intended.

  "Are you having trouble with your eyes, Mr.

  Scott?" He wanted to tell them to leave,

  to return to

  the ship, but once again, he could not control his

  speech; the old frustration washed over him.

  Scott did not appreciate what Spock said;

  it was a

  beautiful place, he argued, beautiful, and

  Spock had to

  agree. A beautiful place, Aritani.

  Aritani.

  The word filled him with joy--comat last, he could

  speak

  of Aritani, and know where it was that he had been.

  His joy turned quickly to terror as he realized that

  his friends had disappeared, and that he was alone in

  the near-total darkness. He had nothing to fear,

  he

  reminded himself. His eyes would adjust quickly to the

  darkness, his hearing would warn him... The sun had

  disappeared and taken with it the brilliant colors,

  leaving behind only black and gray. The

  tricorder led

  him across the plateau to its edge, to the side of the

  charcoal-colored mountain; his night vision guided

  him safely, his footing was sure.

  He would not fall.

  Spock crouched by the side of the mountain, and in

  the glow of the transporter beam, he saw and knew

  that he had been seen. He also knew he had a

  choice to

  make: a sure, quick death, or an uncertain

  fate three hundred feet below.

  He jumped.

  Spock woke with the sudden start of one who

  dreams he is falling. Shaking, he rose from his

  bed.

  He remembered now what he had wanted to tell

  the

  captain, and was determined to contact the Enterprise

  before they tried again to kill him. He went to the

  subspace radio provided in the room for offworld

  guests; the Enterprise should be close enough by now

  for almost immediate reception.

  Spock had no trouble remembering the proper

  frequency.

  "Enterprise, come in. This is Commander

  Spock on the planet Vulcan. Enterprise,

  do you read?"

  There was no time to listen for a response--a sound

  came from the living room, the sound of a struggle,

  and of his father's voice, muffled, calling his name--a

  plea for help, or perhaps a warning Spock

  followed the sound into the main room and

  saw the glint of hard polished metal in the

  darkness,

  and two bodies of apparently evenly matched

  strength

  struggling; one was hidden in the loose folds of a

  desert softsuit.

  The other was his father.

  Spock rushed to his aid, but not before the

  assassin's

  dagger slashed out. Sarek slumped back
ward into

  Spock's arms, and as Spock's hands closed

  on his

  father's chest, he felt something hot, and wet.

  He left Sarek on the floor as the assassin

  lunged at

  him with the dagger. Spock recognized the weapon;

  it

  had adorned the wall of his old room,

  the room that

  was T'Pala's now. He leaned back to avoid

  the swipe

  of the blade, and at the same time grasped the

  assailant's

  wrist. The assailant fought Spock's hold with

  192 MINDSHADOW

  Vulcan strength, pulling back until he

  freed himself,

  but he was forced to drop the dagger.

  Both lunged for it; the assassin reached it first and

  managed to nick Spock's wrist with it before he

  could

  leap back. Spock cursed himself for his

  clumsiness--the

  assassin had taken perfect advantage of the

  situation,

  for the small nick had perforated a vein, which

  was bleeding profusely. Spock would now have to

  disarm his opponent quickly before the loss of blood

  affected his coordination.

  He sprang at the intruder, tangling his legs

  to try to

  force him down, but to no avail. The intruder forced

  Spock back, back until he

  stumbled over the unconscious

  form of Sarek, and fell.

  Dizzy, his strength fading, Spock struggled

  against

  his attacker as he held Spock's wrist

  firmly and with

  medical precision began to cut. Spock looked

  on with

  helpless fury--disonce again, they would try to make

  it

  look like a ritual suicide. His vision began

  to dim and

  he ceased struggling; it was a useless waste of his

  ebbing energy.

  Suddenly, the attacker was engulfed by radiant

  light

  that intensified until his entire form glowed with

  energy

  and dissolved into the darkness. The dagger

  clattered helplessly to the floor.

  In his place stood T'Pala. She clutched a

  phaser in

  her right hand, her cheeks streaming with tears, but

  her face calm, composed--Vulcan.

  She knelt down beside Spock and spoke

  in a voice

  that was measured, steady. "I have summoned aid."

  Spock tried to turn his head to determine

  Sarek's

  condition, but movement was impossible. He heard

  his own labored breathing as though it were very far

  away.

  T'Pala, too, seemed to be moving farther and

  farther

  away; he strained to hear what she was saying.

  "Forgive me. They said I would never be accepted

  here. They promised me a glorious career in the

  service

  of the Praetor, whether I worked for them here in

  the Vulcan Diplomatic Corps or

  elsewhere. I would

  not commit their violence for them, but I told them

  when you stopped taking the neodopazine, and I

  told

  them about your dreams. Don't take it any more--you

  will understand when you read the article by Silak.

  "Then they asked me to neutralize the security

  scanner and the alarm, and I agreed. But when I

  saw

  the assassin wield his dagger..."

  She bowed her head. "I knew I could never

  follow

  their path. I was foolish. Now I have made a

  complete

  commitment to the path I was meant to follow."

  T'Pala fingered the phaser and cradled it next

  to her

  bosom. Spock struggled to speak, but could not.

  T'Pala spoke to him in Vulcan. "I have

  brought

  further shame to my mother's family, and to my father's

  as well. Logically, there is only one course

  to

  take.

  "Live long, and prosper, Spock."

  For a millisecond, Spock's eyes were

  dazzled by the

  form of T'Pala, blazing more brilliantly than

  the Vulcan

  sun.

  And then there was darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  Captain's Log, Stardate 7007.3:

  Commendations to Mr. Scott, who worked

  around the clock to repair the warp drive as

  quickly as possible. As it is, the damage will cost

  us less than twenty-four hours' delay. We

  anticipate

  arriving at our destination in approximately-was

  The intercom whistled and Kirk turned off the

  recorder.

  "Kirk here."

  "Tomson here, sir."

  "Good news this time, I hope?"

  Tomson flushed at the slight hint of sarcasm

  she

  thought she detected in the captain's tone--she was

  hardly pleased herself at the total lack of

  evidence

  Security had turned up in their investigation.

  "I'm not

  sure if it's good or bad, sir. But it's

  something you'd

  definitely better take a look at."

  "What is it, Lieutenant?"

  She hesitated. "I think it'd be better if

  we discussed

  it in Security, sir."

  "On my way." Kirk snapped off the

  intercom. "Mr.

  Varth, you have the con."

  Tomson held up the small black object for

  Kirk to

  see.

  "What is it?" Kirk asked. Its smooth,

  polished

  surface gave no clue as to its function; in

  fact, it looked

  capable of doing precisely nothing.

  "We don't exactly know yet, Captain. It

  seems to be

  some type of subspace radio device, although it

  isn't

  receiving a signal and we can't figure out how to

  transmit on it. Whatever it is, it's

  definitely not Star

  Fleet issue."

  "Ah," said Kirk. "I think I know where you

  found

  this, Tomson."

  Her brows knitted together in puzzlement. "You do,

  sir?"

  "Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you'd just

  forget about

  finding it." He was going to have to remind Emma to

  be more careful.

  "If you want me to, Captain." Tomson was

  confused.

  "Then I suppose you'll want me to cancel the

  surveillance on Varth--"

  "Varth?" He looked at her, thunderstruck.

  "Wait a

  minute, where did you find this thing?"

  "Varth's quarters, sir. We were conducting a very

  thorough search of the ship, sir, and we found it

  among

  the personal effects in his closet--"

  "You've been searching crewmembers' cabins without

  my permission, Lieutenant?"

  She colored scarlet. "It's the closest thing

  to a lead

  we've found, sir. I'll discontinue the

  search."

  "By all means, Tomson. In the meantime--"

  Kirk

  MINDSHADOW

  said gruffly, "--i'll take this." He picked

  up the

  device.

  "Sir, that's the only evidence we've uncovered
>
  --"

  Tomson began in dismay.

  Kirk ignored her. "And have a couple of people

  escort Mr. Varth to the brig for questioning. You'll

  find

  him in command of this ship."

  Emma Saenz was in sick bay, running scans

  on a

  crewman. Kirk took her by the arm and led her,

  protesting, into the laboratory. She was incensed.

  "You'd better have a damn good excuse,

  Captain,

  for interrupting me when I'm with a patient--"

  "Later," said Kirk. He held the device in

  front of

  Emma's nose. She reached for it, but he pulled

  it

  away.

  "Where'd you get that?"

  "First tell me what it does."

  "It probably deflects subspace radio

  waves. It could

  also be a transmitter."

  "What good is deflecting radio waves?"

  "A lot of good, if you want to keep someone from

  receiving a message that could blow your cover. Now

  tell me where you found it."

  "Varth's quarters," Kirk replied softly.

  She did not seem very surprised. "Yes . . .

  it

  makes sense. Radu opposes protection for

  Aritani. It

  might back the murders of the Cygnusian and the

  Saurian."

  "Come on, Doctor. The Raduns are

  dyed-in-the-wool

  Federation. Varth's family has served in Star

  Fleet for generations."

  She was skeptical. "It makes no difference,

  Captain.

  There are a lot of people in this business who

  would think nothing of betraying all that. Now, if

  you'll excuse me, I have to tend a patient."

  By the time Kirk finally made it back to the

  bridge,

  Uhura was breathless. "Sir, I've been trying

  to locate

  you--"

  "I was questioning Varth in the brig." Kirk tried

  to

  ignore the look of questioning disbelief on Sulu's

  face.

  "What is it, Uhura?"

  "It's Mr. Spock, sir. He just contacted the

  ship---"

  Kirk fought to contain his excitement. "Are we

  close enough to Vulcan for visual contact,

  Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, sir, but Mr. Spock is no longer

  transmitting."

  "He's not? Was there a message?"

  "No message. It was very strange--he had just

  established contact when the transmission

  stopped.

  "Interference?" Kirk immediately thought of the

  device found in Varth's cabin.

  "No, sir. The channel's still open, as though he

  simply walked away from the transmitter."

  "Have you tried hailing him again?"

  "Several times, Captain. No response."

  Her dark

  eyes shone with concern.

  Kirk acknowledged that concern and shared it

  with the lightest touch of his hand on her shoulder.