"You will shortly," said Kirk. "My ship can't stay in orbit much longer."
"Is that a fact?" said Weyland.
He said it in such a way that Kirk, never taking his eye off him, removed his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."
"Enterprise, Spock here."
"Status, Mr. Spock?"
"Navigation and helm have just come back on line, Captain. Standard orbit is reestablished. And …"
"Yes?"
He heard a burst of confused exclamation, as if everyone in the background had started talking at once. Only the unflappable Spock sounded routine as he said, "Mr. Scott, Mr. Sulu, and Mr. Chekov have just appeared on the bridge."
"Their condition?"
"Bedraggled would adequately describe it, I think. Specifics will be forthcoming."
"What about the Klingon ship?"
Kral seemed to be holding his breath until Spock came back on and said, "Their orbit is continuing to decay."
Kral looked up angrily at Weyland. "What about my ship?" he demanded.
"Their orbit will continue to decay …"
Kral started to bristle. "You—"
"… until such time that their rightful commander—yourself—returns to the bridge, whereupon all will be rectified."
"Oh," said Kral softly.
"Enterprise, stand by." Kirk flipped the communicator closed and eyed Weyland. "So that's it?" he said. "You put us through all this, and then we're supposed to go on our way, as if nothing happened?"
Weyland raised an eyebrow in a manner that seemed reminiscent of Spock. "Hopefully not as if nothing happened. Hopefully you will remember. And your men will remember, for they likewise acted most honorably. I admit, Captain … I did not credit you or your men with the ability to act as well as you did."
"So all this was a test," said Kirk. "You expected us to learn honor?"
"Oh, no. I expected you all to die. Don't make more of it than it was, Captain. This was not a test. This was an elaborate execution. Somehow, crushing you now after you've survived all this—and after you've swallowed your pride and created this charming, if only temporary alliance—it wouldn't seem fair somehow. It would not seem honorable. And I am, above all, a being of honor."
Kral opened his mouth.
"Shut up," said Kirk to the Klingon.
Kral shut his mouth.
Kirk had prepared an entire lengthy speech he had intended to give Weyland, about nobility and honor and courage of the human heart. He discarded it for the better part of valor.
He flipped open his communicator and said, "Enterprise, two to beam up. Quickly."
The air crackled around him, and the last thing he heard before the comforting walls of the Enterprise surrounded him once more was the low, mocking laugh of Weyland.
Chapter Fifty-two
As THE ENTERPRISE shot through space, en route to Starbase 42, Kirk studied the medical report on his three returned officers. Sulu was suffering from a sword cut to his neck and another to his belly. Mr. Scott had a wound from a musket ball on his right side. He also was suffering from lead poisoning as a result of his wound and various bacterial infections from a lack of septic dressing. And Mr. Chekov had water in his lungs, indicating imminent drowning.
And even though McCoy had healed the physical wounds, emotionally they were still at loose ends. Well, they were solid, experienced officers. Certainly the leaves of absence that he had granted them to return home to Earth—an odd enough request, but all things considered, not outrageous—would help them reestablish their equilibrium. Hell, Scotty was on his way to recovery already—he had declined the prospect of returning to Earth, instead electing to remain with his beloved Enterprise. And when Chekov and Sulu returned, and they and Scotty had been given enough time, then they would be back to their old form.
He hoped.
He went to his computer and began a lengthy report that would explain why Starfleet should be sure, henceforth, to give a wide berth to Cragon V. He suspected the Klingons would do the same.
He hoped.
On the Ghargh, Kral sat staring at a holograph of two young Klingons. One of them was now dead.
"Damn," he said softly.
The door hissed open and Vladra was standing there. She saw what he was holding, knowing that once upon a time he would have hurriedly stashed it away rather than give the slightest hint of displaying any sort of regret or weaker emotions.
"We are on route to Outpost 27, where the Klingon high command awaits your report," she said. She paused. "What are you going to say?"
"That we should stay the hell away from Cragon V."
She nodded.
He sat back and eyed her speculatively. Then he reached down under his desk and pulled out something that had belonged to his father, and his father's father. A book.
"I thought," he said with significance, "you might like to hear some … poetry."
Her breath caught and she nodded slowly. As he started to read, his voice husky, her hands strayed toward a heavy medal of honor that rested on a shelf. She knew right where she was going to throw it.
Scott sat in his room. Open journals lay scattered around, but he hadn't been able to finish a single article.
"Damn it, man," he chided himself, "you've got to face it." He stalked over to the computer console. "Computer, I want some genealogical information, if there is any. For a Seamus MacIntyre, shipbuilder, Scotland, Earth, circa 1750."
"Working. There is a death certificate for a Seamus MacIntyre, and a corresponding newspaper article in 1803. Working. He left two sons and three daughters by his wife, Megan."
Scott didn't hear anything else. He was fighting back tears, mourning a man centuries gone. The account droned on, becoming more detailed as record keeping had gotten better. "… a daughter, Jennifer Anne MacIntyre married George William Jeffries in 2137. Their only child, Benjamin McDonald-Jeffries was an engineer with New Bell Laboratories in the Centauri system. He married Isobelle Krautman, and they had one son, Frederick William Jeffries, designer of the Jeffries tube …"
That caught Scotty's attention, and he looked up at the screen. So the boy whose life he had touched all those centuries ago had reached across time and space to touch his. The image of the dream woman on the heath filled his mind. He heard the sound of pipes, and thrilled in the freedom by which those hopelessly romantic and impractical people had lived and died.
Pavel sat in an outdoor café, watching the daily traffic in the main square of New Stalingrad. But for a few plaques, and a monument or two, nothing remained of that terrible time. Chekov closed his eyes, listening, but all he could hear were birds, or the lazy footsteps of folks enjoying the spring warmth. He had begun to wonder if he had dreamed it.
"Would you care for another coffee, or perhaps a pastry?" the waitress dressed in a silly version of a regional costume asked. It was a tourist stop, and they used real people to serve, and even real chefs to cook.
"No, thank you. But I would like to visit the Data Library. I'm doing some research."
"It's two blocks that way," she gestured, "and turn right. You can't miss it."
He meticulously drained his cup, and walked the short distance, noting trees, buildings, and people with painstaking detail. Twice he stopped, and once turned away from his goal. If I am not listed, it doesn't mean anything, he argued with himself. After all, a lot of records were destroyed in the war and in the political upheavals that followed. It doesn't mean anything. But his palms were still wet when he logged in on a small terminal in the huge marble neorevolutionary-heroic hall.
"Pavel Alexandrovitch Chekov, or Chuikov. Lieutenant." He answered the few questions that followed and waited. It seemed like an insufferably long turnaround time.
"Pavel Alexandrovitch Chuikov, lieutenant. Lost over the Baltic Sea in battle, November 15, 1942. Awarded: Hero of the Soviet Union, third class, October 1942. Awarded: Hero of the Soviet Union, first class, posthumously, December 1942."
Chekov sat a long
time staring at the screen. Then he requested a history for an American family named Kirk.
Sulu had spent weeks following the path of his memory. He had crammed a course in Japanese which he had learned with amazing ease. And to the delight of the scholars whom he had visited, and with whom he had pored over documents, his knowledge of classical speech and writing was top notch and way beyond the scope of his cram course. But, to his sorrow, in this land where literacy had been a legacy for millennia, there was not a word about Oneko.
The inn was still there, still as pristine as he had remembered it. Despite the ravages on the natural beauty of this land which economic wealth and modernization had brought, there were still pockets of traditional Japan. Above the inn the temple still clung to the mountain, and the bell was still rung each morning and night. He managed to persuade the current innkeeper to find him a place, although he had not reserved a room the requisite six months in advance.
The next morning he walked up the hill to the abbey. There was still a community of Zen monks in residence, but most of the grounds had been turned over to the curiosity of visitors. The day he arrived, the gates were closed, and a small sign announced that a group of archeologists were doing a dig on some older portions of the grounds.
Sulu turned to leave when he ran into a young woman, literally, sending her armful of tools and bags scattering down the hill.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, helping her gather the load.
"Oh, no, it was my fault. I wasn't looking," she politely protested, the objects falling again out of her arms as quickly as he piled them on.
"Please, let me help," he insisted. He took most of the materials and followed her through the gate.
"I am Dr. Yae Takenada. I am assistant to Dr. Abe, director of the project," she said formally, although she was still panting and dropping things, "and I am late …"
"I am Lieutenant Commander Sulu, of the USS Enterprise."
"Oh," she said, stopping and staring at him with awe. "What an exciting life! A starship. Good lord, Sulu, why root around on dusty old Earth if you can be dancing in the stars?"
"Oh … the ground has its allure," he said.
And before much longer he had ditched his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and was in tow as Yae's aide. Not that he was protesting a lot.
He spent the next few days digging, and the evenings with his newfound friends, especially Yae. A couple of times he wanted to tell her about his strange trip, but even though he felt that she was as close as a sister, he couldn't do it, yet.
Too soon he was notified that he was to report to his ship. It was the last afternoon he could spend at the satisfying work of digging trenches in the old garden.
Yae had trenched about two feet deep and uncovered a group of stones that had been used to support a wall. "Look at these. I'll bet they were once part of the garden arrangement. Look at the shapes."
Sulu shook his head noncommittally. He knew she was right, but how could he explain how he knew? He crouched down by her find, brushing away the dirt with the archeologist's friend, a small brush. Yes, the scratches were there. He wanted to put it back, to hide it, but she leaned over his shoulder.
"Oh, good. Look at that. Someone scratched something. Let me see." She appropriated the stone, and brushed, and spat until she had uncovered the characters.
"Well, let's see. It could mean …" she muttered, trying out the variants that each symbol could sound like. "Well, I'll be damned," she said staring at Sulu. "It could mean Sulu! How strange. And the other. It is a cat, neko, no … 'honorable cat' Oneko. It might be names. Two names. How touching," she said softly. "Two lovers, perhaps destined to part, who left their mark in the temple garden. Sulu, are you all right?"
"Oh … fine." Sulu smiled. "I just had the strangest feeling of dejà vu."
Look for STAR TREK fiction from Pocket Books
Star Trek®: The Original Series
Enterprise: The First Adventure• Vonda N. McIntyre
Final Frontier• Diane Carey
Strangers From the Sky• Margaret Wander Bonanno
Spock's World• Diane Duane
The Lost Years• J.M. Dillard
Probe• Margaret Wander Bonanno
Prime Directive• Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens
Best Destiny• Diane Carey
Shadows on the Sun• Michael Jan Friedman
Sarek• A.C. Crispin
Federation• Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens
Vulcan's Forge• Josepha Sherman & Susan Shwartz
Mission to Horatius• Mack Reynolds
Vulcan's Heart• Josepha Sherman & Susan Shwartz
Novelizations
Star Trek: The Motion Picture• Gene Roddenberry
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan• Vonda N. McIntyre
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock• Vonda N. McIntyre
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home• Vonda N. McIntyre
Star Trek V: The Final Frontier• J.M. Dillard
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country• J.M. Dillard
Star Trek Generations• J.M. Dillard
Starfleet Academy• Diane Carey
Star Trek books by William Shatner with Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens
The Ashes of Eden
The Return
Avenger
Star Trek: Odyssey(containsThe Ashes of Eden ,The Return , andAvenger )
Spectre
Dark Victory
Preserver
#1 •Star Trek: The Motion Picture • Gene Roddenberry
#2 •The Entropy Effect • Vonda N. McIntyre
#3 •The Klingon Gambit • Robert E. Vardeman
#4 •The Covenant of the Crown • Howard Weinstein
#5 •The Prometheus Design • Sondra Marshak & Myrna Culbreath
#6 •The Abode of Life • Lee Correy
#7 •Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan • Vonda N. McIntyre
#8 •Black Fire • Sonni Cooper
#9 •Triangle • Sondra Marshak & Myrna Culbreath
#10 •Web of the Romulans • M.S. Murdock
#11 •Yesterday's Son • A.C. Crispin
#12 •Mutiny on the Enterprise • Robert E. Vardeman
#13 •The Wounded Sky • Diane Duane
#14 •The Trellisane Confrontation • David Dvorkin
#15 •Corona • Greg Bear
#16 •The Final Reflection • John M. Ford
#17 •Star Trek III: The Search For Spock • Vonda N. McIntyre
#18 •My Enemy, My Ally • Diane Duane
#19 •The Tears of the Singers • Melinda Snodgrass
#20 •The Vulcan Academy Murders • Jean Lorrah
#21 •Uhura's Song • Janet Kagan
#22 •Shadow Lord • Laurence Yep
#23 •Ishmael • Barbara Hambly
#24 •Killing Time • Della Van Hise
#25 •Dwellers in the Crucible • Margaret Wander Bonanno
#26 •Pawns and Symbols • Majliss Larson
#27 •Mindshadow • J.M. Dillard
#28 •Crisis on Centaurus • Brad Ferguson
#29 •Dreadnought! • Diane Carey
#30 •Demons • J.M. Dillard
#31 •Battlestations! • Diane Carey
#32 •Chain of Attack • Gene DeWeese
#33 •Deep Domain • Howard Weinstein
#34 •Dreams of the Raven • Carmen Carter
#35 •The Romulan Way • Diane Duane & Peter Morwood
#36 •How Much For Just the Planet? • John M. Ford
#37 •Bloodthirst • J.M. Dillard
#38 •The IDIC Epidemic • Jean Lorrah
#39 •Time For Yesterday • A.C. Crispin
#40 •Timetrap • David Dvorkin
#41 •The Three-Minute Universe • Barbara Paul
#42 •Memory Prime • Gar and Judith Reeves-Stevens
#43 •The Final Nexus • Gene DeWeese
#44 •Vulcan's Glory • D.C. Fontana
#45 •Double, Double • Michael Jan Friedman
#46 •The Cry of the Onlies • Judy Klass
#47 •The Kobayashi Maru • Julia Ecklar
#48 •Rules of Engagement • Peter Morwood
#49 •The Pandora Principle • Carolyn Clowes
#50 •Doctor's Orders • Diane Duane
#51 •Enemy Unseen • V.E. Mitchell
#52 •Home is the Hunter • Dana Kramer Rolls
#53 •Ghost-Walker • Barbara Hambly
#54 •A Flag Full of Stars • Brad Ferguson
#55 •Renegade • Gene DeWeese
#56 •Legacy • Michael Jan Friedman
#57 •The Rift • Peter David
#58 •Faces of Fire • Michael Jan Friedman
#59 •The Disinherited • Peter David
#60 •Ice Trap • L.A. Graf
#61 •Sanctuary • John Vornholt
#62 •Death Count • L.A. Graf
#63 •Shell Game • Melissa Crandall
#64 •The Starship Trap • Mel Gilden
#65 •Windows on a Lost World • V.E. Mitchell
#66 •From the Depths • Victor Milan
#67 •The Great Starship Race • Diane Carey
#68 •Firestorm • L.A. Graf
#69 •The Patrian Transgression • Simon Hawke
#70 •Traitor Winds • L.A. Graf
#71 •Crossroad • Barbara Hambly
#72 •The Better Man • Howard Weinstein
#73 •Recovery • J.M. Dillard
#74 •The Fearful Summons • Denny Martin Flynn
#75 •First Frontier • Diane Carey & Dr. James I. Kirkland
#76 •The Captain's Daughter • Peter David
#77 •Twilight's End • Jerry Oltion
#78 •The Rings of Tautee • Dean Wesley Smith & Kristine Kathryn Rusch
#79 •Invasion! #1:First Strike • Diane Carey
#80 •The Joy Machine • James Gunn
#81 •Mudd in Your Eye • Jerry Oltion
#82 •Mind Meld • John Vornholt
#83 •Heart of the Sun • Pamela Sargent & George Zebrowski
#84 •Assignment: Eternity • Greg Cox
Home Is the Hunter Page 22
