Finally Nogura nodded. "I know, Jim," he said gently, "you always were a betting man."
The screen went blank, and Kirk's vision blurred. Monitors were dark now, and exhaustion came over him in waves. His body ached, arms and legs turned to lead, and he sank into the empty silence like a stone, while winning and losing chased circles in his thoughts. but I did win, didn't I?. and the circles widened into pools, reflecting memories of air and light. Worlds where he had walked-young green worlds, where people lived and laughed beneath their stars, knowing nothing of Federations or Empires. And the friends who had walked with him, touched and loved and fought, and sometimes died. And the deep wide Dark of never-ending oceans and never-setting suns, where a captain steered the course, and a ship sailed on. forever.
Kirk slept.
* * *
Nogura shut off the intercom, knowing that Jim had overplayed his hand only because he was so tired. But victories were few and far between these days, and this one was an unexpected gift-or a promise from a drowning man.
He crossed his office to the viewport spanning its outside wall. Earth slept, a dark disk edged in light. And on the onyx table, his bonsai's branches stirred. He was thinking of oaks and of Jim Kirk when the courtesy chime sounded.
"Sir?" His adjutant stood in the doorway. "That was Admiral Komack. Ships are in position, except for Enterprise. He says Enterprise didn't transport any delegates to the Council. He's. upset, sir."
"And what did you tell him, Michaels?" Nogura contemplated his tree: a willow still bending, an ancestor long dead, a lesson from the past that failed him in the present.
"Uh. what you said this morning, sir. You said that whenever he called I should tell him Enterprise was en route, her ETA was one solar day, and the fleet wouldn't move without her-"
"That's right." And Jim should have thought of it himself, should have known an old admiral would find a way-but Jim was so exhausted he wasn't thinking straight. Word of honor, a promise from a drowning man. had an old admiral come to that?
"-so that's what I said, and Admiral Komack said. well, he said a lot of things, sir. Do you want me to-"
"I know what he said, Michaels. When he calls back I'll be busy, understand?"
"Aye, sir. Admiral? Can I get you anything, sir?"
The bark was green, showing tiny buds. Spring came slowly in space, but it came. Behind him feet shuffled on the carpet, young, anxious. "Not now, thank you. How are you, Michaels?"
"Fine, Admiral. It's just all this waiting! But that's what they say, isn't it, sir-that the waiting's always the worst."
"Do they?". every second you can beg, borrow, or steal.
The willow bent at his touch, as it must have bent that day three centuries ago beneath the weight of his ancestor's body, that day the sky turned to hell at Hiroshima. A miracle, this tree. No miracles that day for ancestors.
"Then they're wrong, Michaels," Nogura said sharply. "The waiting is not the worst."
Chapter Ten
872 TRIANGULI V; Thieurrull; Hellguard. Fire and brimstone by any name. Twin shimmers of the transporter set Spock and Saavik down inside the old compound to a furnace blast of heat, a fading ember sky, clay that scorched their boots and cracked in jigsaw fissures as far as the eye could see. Suns sank low behind the mountains, and daylight died over the ruins of a colony reclaimed by an avenging world. Dust no longer blew through empty doorways; there were no doorways anymore, only piles of rubble crumbling with time. Spock swept the scene with his tricorder.
Quakes had racked the mountains circling the colony's western rim, hewn away great chunks of stone and flung them down where buildings used to stand. New-fallen boulders showed magnetic traces, but the disruptive field that repelled ships' sensors was coming from beneath the mountains, not from the stone itself. No life registered at all; in this rock-strewn wasteland they were completely alone. He opened his communicator.
"Spock here. We are proceeding toward the mountains. I will check in at intervals. Status, Mr. Sulu?"
"Scans read clear, sir. And that scout's in tow, nice and quiet. It's not talking or going anywhere."
"See that it doesn't, Mr. Sulu. Spock out. Saavik?"
She stared about her, face pale in the failing light, holding her tricorder like a talisman, as if it could ward off the evil of this place. Spock felt a sudden foreboding, an urge to call the ship, beam her back aboard. "Saavikam. Regulations did not permit me to issue you a phaser. Indeed, weapons may be of little use to us here, but I believe this one belongs to you."
A knife lay in the palm of his hand. Its hilt was cracked, its blade gone dull after all the years. Saavik caught her breath and took it slowly, reaching for some memory as her hand closed around it. She looked up trying to thank him, to tell him of that other knife she'd left behind, but she found no words at all.
"We must go now," he said. "Can you find the way?"
She nodded, and they set off due west in the gathering dark. The night wind began to blow, lifting dust to swirl around their feet. She crept from rock to rock, keeping to the shadows, watching, listening before she crossed a patch of open ground.
"Saavikam," Spock said, "there is no one here." He didn't know if she had heard, if they would ever reach the cave, or what might be waiting for them if they found it; he only knew they had to try. The dust blew, the night came down, and the stars came out in all their glory as he followed Saavik into the wind.
Stars. Always stars at night on Hellguard, always dust, always wind. and it whispered to her-old, cruel things. Strange to walk this ground in shoes with food she didn't need to eat, clothing warm against her skin, a presence at her back she didn't need to fear. She tried to think of lessons learned in clean fine rooms on other worlds, where people and their skies were kind. But those lessons were for other times; those rooms were far away. The empty pain clawing at her belly wasn't real, couldn't be; she wasn't hungry anymore. But it was there as if it never had been gone: old, triumphant pain telling her she was alive. Not dead of thirst or caught by Guards or killed by Bastard Others, like the stupid Little Ones who cried out loud and fell asleep at night. No, lessons learned were different here: to watch and wait; to throw her stones in secret, hard enough to smash a skull when someone needed killing; to hate, and hide, and never ever die, because then They would win, and then Everything would stop, and then she couldn't hate Them anymore.
Saavik ducked into the shelter of a rock and wiped the grit out of her eyes while Spock called the ship to confirm their new coordinates. He switched on the carry lamp when they set off again; its wide beam sliced the dark, played over boulders in their path and sharp stones littering the ground. Saavik didn't need the light. She found her way by starshine, as she had always done, and heard familiar echoes on the rising wind. sounds of tramping feet. scrabbling, cursing fights. a dying shriek of someone caught. Someone else. Not me. Not tonight.
"Saavikam, there is no one here."
. but ghosts. gaunt, tall shapes of tattered robes and sunken eyes: the Quiet Ones who watched the skies and gave away their food, who never killed or did her harm, and never fought to stay alive. Strange, and stupid, not to fight! Stupid not to hide, when Guards always came and Quiet Ones always disappeared. And some just walked away. Watched the sky all night, fingers on another's face, and in the dawn went out onto the plain, cast off their robes under killing suns, and knelt waiting in the dust to die. Sometimes it took all day. And sometimes she ran after them screaming, "Notnot! Yougo back!" in such a rage she hardly felt the skin burning off her feet. But they never did, those stupid stupid Quiet Ones. she heard her own breath choking in a sob.
"What is it, Saavikam? Are you in pain?" Spock's voice reached her out of the wind. His face bent close, inquiring eyes in swirling dust. Her heart seized in fear and shame. She couldn't tell him how it was, how the wrong ones always died, how they didn't seem so stupid now. She shook her head, gripped the knife tight in her hand. Memory stirred again: she hadn't always owned this
knife; she'd gotten it somewhere, if she could only.
Look up, Little Cat. Look up and see the-
"Wait!" said Spock. He drew back against a boulder. The colony lay behind them now. Fallen rocks blanketed the last five hundred feet to a sheer rise of cliffs that formed the mountain's face. "Spock to Enterprise." The channel's whistles cleared.
"Yes, Mr. Spock. We're still reading you, but just barely."
"Can transporter room lock on to these coordinates?"
"Mr. Scott says yes. That is a YES, but any closer and."
"Mark our position. We will investigate and return here."
"We copy, Mr. Spock. Good luck!"
"Acknowledged. Spock out." He took a bearing, aligning the rock where they stood with two peaks of the mountain range. "Saavikam," he showed her, "remember this boulder. If we become separated, return here at all costs and call the ship." She looked terrified but said nothing as they went on. Those old collapsed mine shafts the expedition had found impassable lay further to their right, but Saavik wasn't taking him that way. She moved nimbly over the treacherous terrain, heading straight toward an outcropping in the wall of solid rock. A tremor shook the ground, and a rain of dust and pebbles scattered down the mountain. When it cleared, Saavik was nowhere to be seen.
"Saavik!" Spock shouted. "Saavik, where are you?"
He shone the light across the cliff. She was standing in a narrow gap, a rift behind the outcropping. Still it looked like nothing more than a natural crack in the mountain's face. He made his way cautiously, wording sharp reprimands in his mind, then forgetting them when he reached her and saw her face. This crack in the mountain was well-hidden, and much wider than it seemed.
"There," she whispered, pointing. "Down there."
"No, I must see Spock! Call him at once-or take me to him!"
"Can't do that, Mr. Achernar." Nelson's hand settled firmly on the butt of his phaser as the door to sickbay slid open. "Your appointment's with Dr. McCoy. Now let's go, sir."
"Young fool! This is-"
"Just a little check on how you're doing," McCoy said, coming forward to meet them. "Now you go in and make yourself comfortable. I'll be right there." He gestured to the examining room. Nelson's considerable presence blocked the corridor. Achernar paused, eyes traveling from one to the other, then he sighed and did as he was told. When the door shut behind him McCoy engaged the lock. "All right, Nelson. What's he on about?"
"I don't know, sir. He wanted to see the gardens, so I walked him down to Botanical. He looked out the viewport and got real agitated. Started talking wild, ordering me to take him to his ship. Tried to bribe me, sir-called me a fool for refusing. Now he wants Mr. Spock, if you please. And right away."
"He saw that little ship in our tractor beam?"
"No, sir, and not that planet either. Nothing's off to starboard but deep space. He won't tell me why, just says we're all in danger if we don't let him go. You think I should report this to the bridge, sir?"
"That he'd like his ship back, thankyouverymuch? This is the Romulan Empire, Nelson! Of course we're in danger! I'll let the bridge know what he said." McCoy started for the examining room, then turned back. "By the way, what went wrong with his ship?"
"The stabilizer, sir. Engineering replaced that whole unit. Stress fracture in the warp interface casing, but they don't know how it happened. Not enough stress to account for it, Mr. Scott says. Says Achernar might've done it on purpose. Only that wouldn't make sense, would it, sir?"
"Not one damn thing makes sense around here, Nelson."
"You think that could be important, about his ship?"
"Maybe. For God's sake, don't let him know it's fixed."
"But. he does know, Doctor. Found out last night. Sir, you want me in there to-"
"No, no. You sit tight. But if he comes out and I don't, you shoot him or something, hear?" McCoy went into the examining room, sizing up his patient.
"Doctor! Where is Spock? I must speak with him at once!" Achernar paced the floor with long, impatient strides.
"He's real busy, Achernar. You can tell me what's-"
"Call him here, or take me to him!" He lowered his voice and moved in on McCoy. "I know where we are, Doctor. I know these stars. And your ship is in grave danger."
"Uh-huh." McCoy ignored the implicit threat and consulted his scanner. "Blood pressure up, heart rate up. not good." He tut-tutted and adjusted a hypospray. "Have you been having any dizziness? Nausea? Numbness in the hands or-"
"Listen to me, man! You-" Achernar's eyes turned cold and angry. A bone-crushing grip clamped over McCoy's wrist, setting the hypo quivering in his hand. "What is that drug?"
"This! Dammit!" McCoy fumed, "is your last X-9 Series immunization! Without which, mister, you do not leave my sickbay! And the only danger I see here is a patient! Snapping off his doctor's wrist! Now you sit up and behave yourself, mister! You hear me?"
Achernar drew back and released the doctor's hand. He settled himself on the table. "Apologies, Doctor. I am concerned for the safety of your ship."
"Well, so am I." The spray hissed against Achernar's arm. "And it's high time somebody did something-"
". Doctor. you. fool..." Achernar's eyes rolled up in his head as he toppled over. McCoy eased him down, lifted his feet to the table, and locked its restraints around his legs and arms.
McCoy stepped back to admire his handiwork and reached for the intercom.
* * *
". yes, Doctor, he'll be glad to hear that." Uhura turned with a smile. "Sulu, Dr. McCoy reports our Romulan guest says we're all in danger. But it seems he had a funny reaction to some medication."
"No kidding." Sulu tried to manage a grin. "Best news I've had all day. Too bad that other one-"
"Damn!" Chekov swore into the science station's viewer. "Tremor on the planet, Sulu! Seismic pressure building at the core. It is not so good they go underground."
"Get him back, Uhura."
She bent to her board, trying, and finally shook her head. "It's that field. There's too much interference now."
"Then inform Mr. Scott about the tremor. That's something he needs to know. Spock'll call in when he can." Sulu wished the captain were here. The command chair felt big and lonely.
On the screen, the scoutship trailed below them-a loose end. Sulu didn't like loose ends. He glanced over at Chekov, caught his eye.
"Pavel," he muttered, "it's not up to me. So we wait." The question was how long.
The tunnel wound down and down beneath the mountain. Spock shone his light on rocky walls where passages branched off on either side. More tunnels, some with mining carts and tools, some locked off by iron bars set in stone. He used his tricorder as a camera; at distances of more than a few inches its scans were as scrambled by the damping field as Enterprise's sensors. A series of readings close against the tunnels' walls finally got results.
Deposits of that anomalous form of silicon were bound up in the iron ores at this depth. A substance native to this planet had been discovered, studied, engineered into a living virus-that was the reason for this colony where none should have been. And now he could prove it-if they ever got out of here alive.
Saavik walked beside him, clearly lost on her painful journey back in time and struggling for control. His quiet murmurs of discoveries did nothing to allay the waves of suffocating terror, hatred, emanations of a mind bent on vengeance. Another tremor rumbled through the mountain. He knew the danger, but it was far too late to send her back.
The floor sloped downward, turned sharply to the right, and ahead the tunnel turned again. Spock switched off the light, for now it was no longer dark. At the turning a painted sign banned the use of particle-beam weapons, and the jagged walls gave back a light of their own, flickering in colors. Suddenly he realized Saavik was no longer at his side. She stood farther on, bathed in that wavering light, knife glinting in her hand. "Saavik! No!"
She walked into it and disappeared.
"Saavik, come back! I
order you." but she was gone. Spock reached the bend at a run-and stopped short at what he saw: here the tunnel widened into a huge cavern supported overhead by a network of steel grids, a warehouse lit by what it stored.
Boxes. Rows upon rows of them, stacked in walls higher than his head, built with deadly bricks of weaving, iridescent light.
But Saavik was nowhere to be seen. He tried his scan, got useless jumble and looked down a score of glowing corridors, pausing to record disturbances in the dust-four empty spaces in one wall near the tunnel where the bricks were missing. He checked the chronometer built into his tricorder: fifty-one minutes since he'd called the ship. By now they should be heading to the surface, to finish the job Enterprise had come to do. Whatever tortured impulse sent her in that lighted maze might bring her out the other side. "Saavik!"
Star Trek - Pandora Principle Page 21
