remark, drew in a breath and said, "Look, I think she has a crush on
you."
"A 'crush'?"
"Do you want me to explain it to you?"
"I am familiar with the idiom, Doctor. I was merely expressing .. .
surprise that you would come to that conclusion."
"You wouldn't know a crush if it bit you. I'm telling you that this
girl is in love with you. She spends every waking moment with you and
I don't think it's healthy for her. It might be kinder to her if you
could think up some excuses from time to time instead of spending every
free moment working on the project together."
Spock was wearing that certain stone-faced expression that McCoy knew
from experience meant he would get no cooperation. "I assure you that
I am not completely insensitive to such situations, Doctor. I have
encountered the problem in the past, but I have not perceived any such
problem with Dr. Lanter."
McCoy could not believe him. "Spock, she told me
you've invited her to meet your family when we take shore leave. Don't
you realize the significance of such an action?"
"Friendship," Spock said. "Any interpretation beyond that is merely
wishful thinking on your part."
"Or on hers. She's young, Spock, and not all that mature. On Earth,
when a man brings a woman home to meet his parents, it usually means
that--"
Spock cut him off. "I am not taking her to Earth," he said evenly.
"You are merely reading your own cultural interpretation into this."
"She's Terran, too," McCoy argued. "She's bound to come to the
same--"
Spock cut him off smoothly. "I find this entire discussion entirely
inappropriate, Dr. McCoy. Your questions merit no response except to
say that you should not meddle in areas beyond your expertise."
"Why, you--" sputtered McCoy, but Spock had already turned on his heel
and gone.
Tomson called to say that further investigation had yielded no leads.
Kirk's response was less than forgiving. "Lieutenant, I have four
hundred crew members about to take shore leave for the first time in
seven months. We have the option of canceling that leave or finding
the killer. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Tomson said stoutly. "Then the only suggestion I have,
Captain, is that we run a verifier scan on all four hundred crew
members."
"And our guests," Kirk said.
Tomson paused. "Sir .. . they're Vulcans."
"Well, if it's true that Vulcans can't lie, then they
have nothing to worry about. And Spock tells me that Vulcans can't be
offended. Run the scan on them." "Yes, sir."
Kirk stopped off at his quarters before going to the officers' mess.
Somehow, a small drop of the murdered man's blood had stained his
tunic, and he felt the need for a ritual cleansing before dinner. He
stepped into the shower stall fully clothed, reached for the sonic
controls--and then changed his mind. Today's circumstances called for
a more therapeutic means of hygiene hot water and steam. Kirk
stripped, threw the tainted clothes out and closed the door behind him.
The cubicle began to fill with white droplets of steam, and he let it
continue until it was so dense he couldn't see his own hand in front of
him.
He had lost men before, and al-Baslama's was not the first murder on
board the Enterprise .. . but before, such things had always occurred
under unusual circumstances, caused by external forces--spies,
invaders, outsiders. Other than the Vulcans, there was no one to pin
the guilt on, leaving the uncomfortable deduction that a crew member
was responsible. Such a thing had never happened under his command
before, and certainly he had never encountered a murder so maliciously
committed.
Kirk closed his eyes and sighed, forcing his muscles to relax. He
succeeded to a modest degree, and after a moment or two, he did
something he had not done in years he began to sing.
It was the time of the ship's day when the officers' mess was most
crowded. McCoy had gotten his tray
and was headed toward Scott's and Uhura's table when Anitra caught his
eye and waved him over. She was sitting off to one side with Spock,
and although McCoy was in no hurry to see the Vulcan after their most
recent unpleasant encounter, he was far too intrigued to turn away.
Anitra greeted him with an enthusiastic smile; the sudden storm of
temper in sickbay had apparently blown over without leaving any ill
effects. But she had not forgotten it.
"I'd like to apologize for the other day," she said as McCoy took a
seat next to her. "No hard feelings?"
"None at all," said McCoy. "I decided that your point was well
taken."
"I think so," she said, but her eyes were playful.
McCoy gracefully ignored the remark, as Spock continued eating his meal
on Anitra's other side, ignoring him. "How's the medication working
out?"
Anitra and Spock exchanged a quick glance; obviously, there were things
that she preferred to keep to herself. "Just great. Please, go ahead
and eat."
McCoy hadn't touched his food. After al-Baslama's autopsy, he hadn't
much of an appetite. Normally, such things never bothered him--in med
school, he used to pride himself on his ability to eat lunch, a
sandwich in one hand, while carving up a cadaver with the other--but it
had never struck him as grisly, as this one had, possibly because none
of the cadavers had been bludgeoned to death.... He smiled palely at
his dinner. "Guess I'm just not as hungry as I thought."
"Want some of my fudge brownie?" Anitra wheedled. "It's awfully
good."
He frowned. "I thought you were allergic to choc--"
He broke off, interrupted by the unlikely and painfully loud sound of
off-key singing. "What the hell--" he began and then stopped, for by
then he had recognized the captain's voice--as obviously had the rest
of the crowd. After a moment of startled silence, titters began to
flutter through the room. Only two of those seated did not share in
the laughter--Spock and Ani tra. And although Spock came alarmingly
close to a double take, he recovered smoothly enough (since everyone
was far too distracted to notice his reaction), and now simply sat,
studying the reaction of the others. Anitra alone continued eating
with gusto, unfazed, but grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"So do you want some or not?" she persisted, while McCoy gazed at her,
dumbstruck.
Spock and Scott stood at attention. Kirk was in his quarters, now
fully dressed, and in significantly less melodic voice. He paced back
and forth in front of his officers.
"In answer to your question, sir," Scott said, his face twitching with
the awful struggle to maintain decorum, "it was a simple
microphone--something anyone could have planted. And it woulda been no
trouble to hook in into the main intercom system."
Kirk stopped pacing and looked sourly at Scott. "No trouble. For you,
perhaps, Scotty."
"Aye, sir." The subtlest twitch passed ove
r the Scot's face.
"I must agree with the captain," Spock said. His
smoothly serious composure was in striking contrast to Scott's. "It
would require no small amount of engineering talent to hook the
microphone up to communications --"
"And pick the lock to my quarters. Who on this ship would have that
kind of expertise?" Kirk demanded.
Spock shifted uncomfortably. "I would, sir."
"And I," Scott volunteered.
"That's very gallant of you gentlemen," Kirk said impatiently, "but
since neither one of you has confessed to the crime, who does that
leave us with?"
Spock and Scott eyed each other for a moment before Spock cleared his
throat. "Lieutenant Uhura, sir, although it would be most out of
character for her--"
"And?"
"And ... a few other individuals in science and engineering."
"Who are they? I want to speak to them."
"I will .. . attempt to arrange it, sir," Spock said, knowing exactly
who he needed to speak to, wondering if he could convince her to admit
it.
The verifier scan showed nothing. Kirk consulted McCoy.
"Can anyone fool a verifier scan, Doctor?"
McCoy waxed philosophic. "Well, now, some would tell you no. But
maybe .. . well, maybe someone with a pathological condition, who was
convinced he was telling the truth, could fool the scanner."
Kirk nodded. "And, of course, you have no one
with a psychological profile who would fit this description?"
McCoy frowned. "If someone like that got through the academy and past
me, they're in the wrong business. They ought to take up the theater,
and I ought to be drummed out of my job."
"Could someone--formerly healthy--experience a personality change that
would permit them to do what someone did to al-Baslama?"
"God knows we've seen enough types of space madness, Jim. I'd say it's
possible."
"Then I'd like you to update your files, Doctor. I want a recent
psychological analysis of everyone on board this ship."
McCoy started to grin, but it faded quickly when he realized that the
captain was not smiling. "You're not kidding, are you?"
"I'm not kidding."
"Do you have any idea how long that would take? We'd have to pull
double shifts in sickbay just to get it done before the end of the
month--"
"Then pull double shifts. But I want it done before we go on shore
leave."
McCoy grimaced. "No problem, Captain. There's nothing I like better
than trying to pick one sadist out of four hundred and twenty crew
members."
The day passed without incident, and Aman da forgot about the roses
until she went out into the garden shortly after sunset, when the heat
had broken. The sight of two empty holes where the bushes had been was
an unpleasant reminder, but she noted with satisfaction that Sarek had
kept his promise--a small trap, a square box with an entrance but no
exit, sat next to the remaining rosebushes, no doubt loaded with
chkariya pheromones.
She heard a rustle behind her and turned to see someone hidden in the
shadows at the other end of the garden, near the tall bushes. Her
heart beat faster until she realized it was Silek; she drew a small
sigh and smiled. He seemed almost startled himself, but he walked
toward her.
"I see that two of your roses are missing."
"Furry vandals," she said. "I take it your presentation at the academy
went well."
Silek nodded.
"And that you slept well last night."
Amanda watched his expression with fascination; like his brother, Silek
could convey wry amusement without moving a single muscle in his face.
"Do you wish an honest answer, my lady Amanda, or the expected one?"
Her eyes saddened. "I wouldn't blame you, Silek, if you didn't. So
many things happen in thirty-eight years, so many changes. I didn't
even know that you were married, and now Sarek tells me that you
recently lost your wife."
Privately, Silek was amused by her use of a very Terran idiom. Humans.
Their fear of death was so great they could not force themselves to
speak its name, lest it take notice of them. He wondered how one might
literally lose one's wife--misplace her, perhaps. Aloud he said, "Yes.
We married shortly after we met. She was a researcher on the Hydrilla
project. I'm sorry that you did not have the opportunity to
meet TYne." He thought of T'Ylle here and wondered what Amanda would
make of her--certainly two women were never more opposite. Amanda was
everything open and warm and forthright, while T'Ylle was cool,
retiring, always watching and weighing. .
"Was she ill?"
"The official cause was listed as an accident," said Silek. He was
staring in the direction of the sun, although it had already
disappeared below the horizon.
"You say that as though you don't believe it was."
"It was not," Silek said, still watching the nonexistent sunset.
"T'Ylle was intentionally killed." Why he chose to tell Amanda now he
did not know. It was foolish, illogical, for it could accomplish no
aim save to upset her. Amanda did not need to know, yet it somehow
seemed rude to refuse to explain further. And perhaps there was some
sort of relief in finally being able to voice it, to say the dreadful
words aloud, to another who would listen.
Amanda was shocked speechless for a moment. "I thought the expedition
was all Vulcan."
"Forgive me." Silek returned to his senses. "I am a poor guest to so
disturb my hostess. I have no proof to back my claim. Let us discuss
it no further."
But the look of anxiety in Amanda's eyes reminded him very much of
something he had found in T'Ylle's cool brown ones shortly before her
death, the unspoken fear she had kept from him, to protect him, until
it was far too late.. ..
The ground had given way, Starnn had claimed, given way and crumbled
beneath their feet--and T'Ylle had fallen from the overhang onto the
rocks
below. Fallen, Silek recalled grimly, but not without assistance.
He wanted to warn Amanda now .. . but it was still early. Such a
warning now would only serve to confuse and terrify. Perhaps he knew
what he had to do to set things right.
Out of politeness, Amanda did not press him, though there were many
questions she wanted to ask. Instead, she stood and held him with that
troubled gaze.
Silek spoke again. "Our expedition to Hydrilla was successful, but
many strange things happened on the last planet--on Beekman. Three of
our party were killed--T'Ylle and two others. AH died under unusual
circumstances--all 'accidents." Some of the people on the expedition
seemed to--change--as a result. Starnn, for example."
"He's elderly," Amanda said. "And he lost a daughter."
"True." Silek suddenly felt tired of discussing the subject. He
looked down at the trap Sarek had set. "What type of animal are you
expecting another visit from?"
"A chkariya," Amanda said, accepting the change of subject wit
h an
insincere cheerfulness, her eyes still troubled. "It pulled two bushes
right out of the ground last night and somehow managed to snap the
branches right in two. Terran that I am, I hope it got a mouthful of
thorns."
Silek frowned. "You are sure a chkariya did that? I did not think
them capable...."
"Sarek thinks it might be. Whatever it is, I'm going to stop it."
Silek finally looked at her. "For your sake, I hope you do."
She smiled at him. "I'll see you at dinner."
Silek waited until he was sure that she had gone inside the house
before he went back over to the bushes. The small mammal lay half
buried in the sand, its teeth bared in a death scream. Its neck had
been snapped, and its legs dangled from its limp body at unnatural
angles. Silek did not doubt that the animal had been tortured before
it was killed.
It was starting again, just as it had started on Beekman's Planet.
Chapter Three
"coming into orbit around Vulcan, Captain," Sulu announced. On the
screen was a red giant of a planet.
Kirk snapped off the intercom on the arm of the con. He was not at all
Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS Page 5
