"Planetwide?" Anitra asked.
Spock nodded. "Seven of those occurred in the tourist quarter, but the
rest were Vulcan fatalities."
"Amazing," Anitra said. "Four Vulcans murdered in that period of time.
In one city on Earth, more than that would be killed in one day."
"However, on Vulcan this is critically significant, given that these
are the first murders to occur outside the tourist quarter in a
thousand years." Spock peered
at the screen again. "Two of those we already know of, but two others
occurred in the towns of SriKahr and SuraKahr." He spoke a brief
sentence in Vulcan into the computer, then turned to her. "I am
checking for the names of those in the expedition." The screen flashed
and changed before him. "Yes, as I thought. These are hometowns of
Hydrillan-expedition members."
"Get the names. I'd be interested to know if they were the ones on
board ship when al--"
The beep from Spock's communicator interrupted her; Spock answered.
"Spock here."
"Lieutenant Uhura here, Mr. Spock. Your mother just contacted the
ship, asking for you. She said it was extremely urgent. I told her
that you were still on the planet surface and offered to find you, but
she broke off communications rather abruptly. She sounded a little
strange, so I thought I'd better contact you."
Spock stood up. "You did the right thing, Lieutenant. Thank you.
I'll contact her."
"No problem, sir."
Spock snapped his communicator shut and turned to Anitra. "Remain
here."
"No." Anitra folded her arms and set her chin with a determination as
strong as the Vulcan's. "You need me there. You know that; you'd be
as good as helpless without me."
"Not entirely helpless ... while my telepathic skills are modest
compared to yours, they still afford me some degree of protection
against the creatures. And remember, this is my family. I am more
sensitive to their thoughts."
"Perhaps no longer your family," Anitra murmured,
her face white. "Perhaps no longer their thoughts .. ."
"Admittedly, your presence would be a definite advantage." He held her
eyes intently. "But your survival is crucial to this mission, and Star
Fleet has put the onus of your safety on me. I cannot let you come.
The risk is too great."
"You know that you can stop these things from spreading without me,"
Anitra said, but her tone was unconvincing. She lowered her head,
unable to come up with a better counter argument
"Perhaps," Spock answered, "but your death would greatly reduce Star
Fleet's chances of success. And I would prefer at this point to keep
the odds in our favor."
"We can't risk losing you, either, Spock. Promise that you'll contact
me if you run into a serious problem."
He nodded, knowing that she was not speaking of the communicator.
"Perhaps it would be safer for you not to remain alone here at the
academy, where you are too obvious. It would be wiser for you to join
the captain and the doctor." And, he reflected silently, it might get
McCoy off his back.
"A tourist bar?" Anitra grimaced in disbelief.
"Who are you?" Amanda wheeled on her captor in what she knew to be a
doomed attempt at bravado. "Where is my husband?"
"I am here, my wife," Sarek replied calmly.
She responded with haughty coolness worthy of a Vulcan. "You aren't
Sarek. Whoever you are, whatever you are, I don't know, but I can
sense that he's not here. What have you done with him?"
Sarek's face tightened suddenly in a grin--a grimace more than a
smile. "He is here, my lady, but .. . indisposed. At the moment, he
cannot speak to you."
Up to that moment, Amanda had not truly believed the evidence of her
senses. Now her heart froze.
He moved closer to her, and she found herself pulling away until her
back pressed against the spines of the books on the shelves. He neared
until she felt his breath upon her face, and then he laughed at her, a
horrible sound, so horrible that she covered her ears with her hands.
"You .. . killed Silek and Starnn," she said, but she no longer had
control of her voice; like a dreamer, she screamed and heard it emerge
from her throat something less than a whisper.
The creature emitted a low rumble and then a deep whine that
intensified until she could no longer bear it. When it spoke again,
the voice was low, rasping, no longer Sarek's.
"We .. . killed them. Sarek was rather distraught. He knows what has
happened; he even knows we are talking to you now, and he is most
distressed." It chuckled cruelly. "Starnn was one of ours, but no
longer necessary. And Silek .. ." Sarek's eyes had begun to burn with
an unnatural fire. "Silek had become a threat."
It moved even nearer to her, and smiled its horrible smile. "Just as
you are now, my dear." It raised Sarek's finger and ran it as gently
as a caress along the length of Amanda's neck, up under her chin. She
tensed, unable to suppress a moan of revulsion.
"What shall we do with you, my dear?" it crooned. * * *
Kirk never really understood how the fight began. He and McCoy
weren't exactly drunk, merely well oiled by the time Anitra joined them
at the bar in the center of ShanaiKahr's tourist quarter. The bar was
just like any other bar in a large city with a major
spaceport--crowded, dark, mercifully cool--but definitely much cleaner.
There were no Vulcans inside-the proprietor was Rigellian--although
Kirk noticed the Vulcan security officer conspicuously standing just
outside the entrance, his sensitive ears on the alert for sounds of a
brawl beginning between out worlders "Well, look who's here," McCoy
drawled; the thickness of his Georgia accent was directly proportionate
to the amount of alcohol he consumed, and at the moment it was rapidly
growing more distinct. "We certainly weren't expecting you."
Anitra grinned, her face alive, mercurial, as she slid into the booth
and surveyed her surroundings.
The barmaid had thrown a napkin onto the table before Anitra had
settled herself in. "What'll it be?"
"It's such a pleasure to know there are people on this planet who speak
in contractions," McCoy sighed.
"What are you having?" Anitraleaned over the table to look at their
drinks.
"I have finally convinced the captain here of the virtues of sour
mash," the doctor intoned triumphantly and held up his glass. Anitra
stared dubiously at the clear amber liquid.
"It's whiskey," Kirk said.
"Whiskey?" McCoy's honor was clearly wounded. "Bite your tongue.
This here is George Dickel Old
No. 12 Brand, the finest beverage in the civilized galaxy."
"I see." She cocked a brow at the two of them. "And how many of these
have you had?"
"Three," McCoy said.
"Four," Kirk corrected him.
She turned to the barmaid. "Four of those, please. Line 'em up."
"Er," said McCoy, "are you sure you want to do that?"
Anitra considered. "Yes. I took my me
dicine, if that's what you're
getting at, so hopefully this poison won't eat another hole in my
stomach. And it's going to be awfully boring talking to the two of you
unless I catch up. There's nothing worse than being the only sober
person in a crowd of drunks."
Kirk shot McCoy an amused look. The doctor shrugged. "Well, if you're
going to do it, I suppose you may as well do it with the best."
"Where's Spock?" Kirk asked. "Did he give you a nice tour of the
science academy?"
"He won't be joining us," said Anitra. "He went to see his parents
again. And yes, the tour was very interesting. I've never seen
anything like it. It's far better equipped than Star Fleet Academy."
"Better, maybe," allowed Kirk. "As to far better ."
"What made you decide to join us?" asked McCoy.
"It was Spock's idea, really."
"Spock's?!"
"Yes. He thought I should relax .. . have a little fun while I'm on
shore leave."
Well, I'll be .. . , thought McCoy. The barmaid reappeared. "Four
shots of sour mash." She set them in a neat row in front of Anitra.
"Pay up, please."
"Put it on my tab," Kirk said.
"Thank you." Anitra smiled at him genuinely and made a useless attempt
to smooth her impossibly red,
recalcitrant hair. "It's very kind of you after what
"Don't mention it." There was a hint of ominousness in Kirk's answer.
He was trying hard to maintain his anger at her, trying hard to dislike
her, and failing at both.
McCoy made an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a giggle, and he finally
let it out with helpless abandon until tears ran down his cheeks. "You
really got us," he gasped at last. "Me, Spock, the captain .. ."
It was contagious. Kirk fought it at first, then succumbed graciously.
Out of deference to the captain, she did not join in, but sat grinning
at them both. Laughing, Kirk said to her, "Do it again, Ensign, and
you're off my ship."
"Yes, sir," she said softly. She tilted her head back and with a
smooth flick of the wrist, poured down a shot. She set the empty glass
down on the table with a click and proceeded to do the exact same thing
with the second glass.
"You're going to get drunk," McCoy said, still weak from his outburst.
At about that time, he became aware of a giant pair of legs standing
next to him. They were attached to an equally massive body--the young
man's neck was as wide as McCoy's waist. He wore the uniform of a
maintenance crewman for one of the big cargo freighters, and above the
left breast pocket
was the inscription "Roy." He grinned down at Anitra with
sandy-haired good looks. "Care to join me at my table? You might have
a little more fun with someone your own age."
In a second, Anitra became as cold as ice. She was really quite
beautiful, thought McCoy, when she wore that haughty expression; it
took away every trace of childishness and, with those high cheekbones,
made her look exotic, almost feline. "My physician has advised me to
stay away from cretins, thank you."
Roy blinked, unsure whether he had been accepted or rebuffed. Rather
than leave quietly, he stood his ground (albeit swaying slightly) and
began to speak in a loud, obnoxious manner, punctuating every third
syllable by stabbing the air with his index finger in McCoy's general
direction.
"What do you want to stay with them for? They're a little old for you,
don't you think?" He peered unsteadily at McCoy. "Hell, he's almost
old enough to be your father."
McCoy stood up, pathetically dwarfed by Roy's bulk.
"Sit down." Kirk tugged at his elbow.
"Not until the gentleman leaves." McCoy's eyes glittered angrily. "Get
out of here and leave the lady alone."
"I am not a lady," Anitra protested, but she was ignored.
Roy giggled. "Are you going to make me, shortcake?"
"If I have to," McCoy said, realizing vaguely how very ridiculous he
sounded.
Anitra stood up between them, annoyed with them both "I don't need
any help from you, Doctor. And you," she turned to Roy, "get out of
here before I make you regret it."
"Sit down," Kirk said, getting the uncomfortable feeling that he was
helpless to avert certain disaster.
"I understand," Roy sneered at her. "Working your way up through the
ranks?"
Kirk remembered hearing McCoy weakly exclaim "Oh, no" as the two of
them watched Anitra launch a blow and follow it through to its
subsequent arrival at its destination--Roy's stomach. McCoy, in an
effort to be gallant, was in there swinging, but Kirk alone kept his
senses. He alerted the transporter with no time to spare as the three
of them dematerialized, they had the satisfaction of seeing the Vulcan
security guard intervene and drag Roy off, presumably to the local
hoosegow.
The security code was no longer on, for the stone gate opened at
Spock's touch. The sun was setting, and the interior of the house was
dim in the twilight. Spock silently entered the long hallway,
listening, but there was no sound, no sign of life in the large central
room. The doors to the adjoining rooms had been shut.
There came a gentle thud behind him, and Spock whirled, his phaser
drawn. A silver bird had hit the window overlooking the garden. After
several seconds, it flew off, stunned. It would be best, Spock
decided, to keep the phaser drawn, although he was no longer sure what
effect a phaser stun would have on Sarek now.
He walked softly, too softly even for Vulcan ears, and paused at each
doorway, bracing himself to pull the trigger as soon as the door
opened. There would be no margin for hesitation. But each
door--Sarek's study, his parents' bedroom--opened on an empty, lifeless
room.
And then he heard a muffled sound, like a sob, emerge from deep within
the house from Amanda's library. He moved catlike toward the door,
only to find that it had been locked from the outside, trapping whoever
was inside. Even so, after he turned off the lock, he made certain to
hold the phaser at chest level when the door opened.
For an instant, he did not recognize the wild-eyed woman, and would
have fired the phaser had she not said his name.
"Spock." She gasped, trembling from relief and fear. Quite obviously,
she had expected someone else. She flinched at the phaser aimed at
her, and searched his eyes, her own almost wild, to be sure that this
was indeed still her son.
Spock lowered the phaser, and Amanda rose from where she had crouched
in the corner. She moved as if to embrace him, but controlled herself
in time to simply gesture toward him.
"Spock--" she said and fought for air as if she had been running,
"we've got to get out of here now. Your father--" Her face began to
contort, and she tried to continue. "Your father--"
"--is not himself," Spock finished hoarsely, arguing with his guilt. "I
know."
"You knew?" Her eyes widened, aghast and stricken, but did not accuse
him; Spock was capable
of
doing that himself. He looked at the floor, wishing that she would
curse him for it, knowing that she never would, and he reminded himself
again of the logic that had dictated the necessity of this situation.
At present, it appeared distinctly flawed.
He could not bring himself to answer her question, so he asked another.
"Lieutenant Uhura said you called the ship looking for me. Why didn't
you simply have them connect us? I was at the academy."
"He found me," she said simply and closed her eyes, "while I was trying
to contact you. He realized that I knew. Silek ... left a note for
me, before he was killed." Spock looked away as her chin trembled. "It
was your father who killed both Starnn and Silek." She covered her
face with her hands.
"My father," Spock corrected her gently, "killed no one. Whatever,
whoever controls Sarek now is responsible for their deaths." He gently
pulled her hands from her face, and she tried to smile at him.
"He's coming back," she said, recovering herself. "He seemed to enjoy
leaving me to think about my fate. I think he wanted me to feel
terrified. I don't know where he's gone; I only know that when he
comes back, he'll kill me. It isn't safe here. Please, please take me
Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS Page 8
