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Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS

Page 16

by J. M. Dillard


  with Spock and McCoy in auxiliary control. This must be the small room

  just off the main control room. But how .. . ? He squinted with the

  effort to remember. Anitra had been there with them. They had decided

  to escape on the shuttlecraft, and he was going to trip the circuits to

  the sensors on the hangar deck. He tried to picture himself on the

  hangar deck, cutting the circuits, but the image refused to form.

  Something must have stopped him, something.. ..

  He stood up quickly with a shudder. Tomson .. .

  "Dear God," he said aloud. But he was somehow himself now. Maybe

  Spock and Anitra had found the antidote. He walked over to the sealed

  door again and kicked it. "Spock," he called. "McCoy .. . are you out

  there?"

  Outside, in the main control room, Uhuraleaned against the console and

  pretended not to hear. Kirk-or whatever controlled Kirk--had raved and

  screamed at first, and then tried to wheedle her into opening the door.

  It had lasted for hours until the thing had screamed itself hoarse. She

  had found it extremely unnerving and had to keep reminding herself that

  it was not the captain talking. The day after, he had remained

  ominously silent for hours. She'd gone out to

  raid the commissary for some food--and when she'd come back, Kirk did

  not even seem to hear the door, but remained perfectly quiet. She was

  almost glad to hear him talking again, for she had feared Kirk might be

  dead. But now he took a new approach, one that she found more

  difficult to deal with.

  "Ensign Lanter?" he called. "For God's sake, is anyone out there?" He

  felt a surge of panic--they had escaped on the shuttlecraft, abandoned

  the ship and left him sealed inside this small tomb of a room. He

  forced himself to be calm. Spock was not responsible. Even if he had

  been possessed, Spock would not have left him like this. Someone else

  had to have done this--and that someone couldn't be far.

  In a flash of inspiration, he decided to cut through the wall, but his

  phaser was missing from his belt. Then someone must have taken it and

  thrown him in here. He tried in vain to remember the encounter.

  "I know there's someone out there," he called. "Answer me--that's an

  order."

  Uhura had forbidden herself to talk to the thing--but the temptation

  this time was far too strong; it sounded too much like the captain.

  "It'll do you no good."

  "Uhura," Kirk said, smiling on the other side of the door. "Uhura, let

  me out of here."

  She laughed. "Fat chance."

  "For God's sake, Lieutenant, how long have you been keeping me in

  here."

  "A day or so," she said. "Not long enough."

  "Uhura, I don't remember what's happened." Kirk pressed himself

  against the door. "Why are you keeping me here?"

  "You tell me," she said, "Captain."

  He fell silent for a moment until an idea occurred to him. "A day or

  so," he repeated. "Uhura, I'm terribly hungry. If I don't have some

  food and water soon, I'll die."

  She felt a twinge. It was true--and it was a problem that she had

  tried to avoid thinking about. How could she keep the captain's body

  alive without facing the thing? She picked up the tray of food that

  she had gotten for herself, and a cup of water. Balancing it in one

  hand and a phaser in the other, she went to the door of the lounge.

  "AH right," she said, "step back from the door. But I'm armed and I

  swear to God, if you make a wrong move, I won't hesitate to shoot."

  "I understand," Kirk said. He stepped to one side and pressed himself

  against the wall.

  Uhura entered, clutching the phaser--but was unable for an instant to

  see Kirk. He leapt at her, swinging, and the tray clattered to the

  floor. She fired a wild shot.

  It was a clean miss. Kirk had her pinned to the floor in two seconds,

  but she kneed him square in the crotch, and he fell back, groaning. She

  groped about for the phaser, but it had slid under the couch where she

  couldn't see it. His teeth gritted, Kirk crawled over to the couch on

  his hands and knees and retrieved the phaser.

  "Lieutenant," he gasped, sitting on the floor with the weapon pointed

  at her and fighting the despe rate urge to cradle his injured parts, "I

  promise you, if you ever do that to me again, I'll have you

  court-martialed."

  Uhura looked at him uncertainly; Kirk's eyes were

  full of nothing but pain. "Captain, is that really you, sir?"

  "I won't do it." McCoy's arms were wrapped tightly about himself in a

  display of defensiveness. "I won't stay. I can't believe that you're

  siding with him on this."

  "Nobody's taking sides." Anitra stood in front of the hot spring,

  wearing a long, hooded cloak over the soft suit Soft wisps of steam

  floated over her reflection in the water; her expression was one of

  taut control, perhaps out of unconscious emulation of the others.

  "Don't you understand how dangerous this is?"

  "Of course. I've always known. I just can't understand why the two of

  you would gang up on me--"

  "Now you're getting paranoid."

  "Maybe I have a right to be."

  Anitra sighed and looked into the water. "Don't be ridiculous. I

  don't want to leave you behind any more than you want to stay. But did

  it ever occur to you that Spock might be right? It's bad enough that

  he and I have to risk ourselves by going into the capital--but there's

  no reason for you to risk yourself."

  "To be with you," McCoy said, "is reason enough."

  She smiled sadly at him. "But it isn't logical." He started to say

  something, but she rested her fingertips gently on his lips. "Try

  thinking that way just for once, Len. If you went with us and

  something happened to you, I could never forgive myself."

  He caught her hand. "And if something happened to you, and I wasn't

  there to stop it.. ."

  "I'll be all right," she said, turning away, "I'll be with Spock."

  "I would like to remedy that," he said. "Please. Promise me you'll

  stay. It'll only be for a little while." "All right," McCoy lied.

  "I'll stay."

  "Sorry I had to rush you like that," Kirk said, putting down the

  phaser.

  "I still don't understand, sir," Uhura said. "You were one of them.

  What happened?"

  "You tell me, Lieutenant. What did you do to me?"

  "Nothing, sir. Mr. Spock had to stun you. I ran into him in the

  corridor and he took me back to auxiliary. It seems Ensign Lanter is

  telepathic and she warned him mentally before we got there that you

  were in auxiliary. They put you in the lounge, sir, and put Mr.

  Spock's mother somewhere else. That was about a day and a half ago. I

  just can't understand why you're yourself again."

  Kirk stared at the lounge and shook his head. "Well, I suppose we'll

  have to brain the entire crew and shove them in there and see if it

  works."

  "With four hundred crew members, that might take a little while,

  Captain."

  "More than that, Lieutenant. What's the status of the ship?"

  "We're drifting, sir. Spock sabota
ged the engines."

  He nodded in approval. "Good. Did Spock and the others make it out of

  here safely?"

  "I have no way of knowing for sure, sir, but if they did, they must be

  on Vulcan by now."

  "What about communications?"

  "All out, sir. Ensign Lanter sabotaged them."

  "Very good," Kirk murmured. "So ... a crippled

  ship, no communications, and a murderous crew. Looks like we've got

  our work cut out for us, Uhura. Too bad Spock's not here."

  "We'll manage without him, sir."

  He grinned at her. "What do you suggest for starters, Lieutenant?"

  "For starters? Well, just what you said."

  Kirk frowned.

  "Brain the whole crew," she said, and giggled.

  McCoy cleared his throat, but the Vulcan youth did not stir; he sat in

  front of the steaming, hot spring, his eyes closed in serene

  meditation.

  "Excuse me," McCoy said.

  The Vulcan opened his eyes.

  "I need some equipment for crossing the desert," McCoy said.

  "It is too dangerous for humans." The Vulcan closed his eyes again.

  McCoy persisted. "Look, I've heard all that before. And I'm going

  anyway. Now, will you help me or not?"

  The Vulcan looked up at him. "Your friends asked the High Master for

  permission for you to stay here. I have heard it said that there is

  danger outside Gol. Why do you wish to leave?"

  "I have been left here against my will."

  "Your friends are trying to protect you."

  "I don't want to be protected!" McCoy kicked the stone floor in

  exasperation; a small puff of red dust rose. "I would prefer to risk

  danger in order to be with my friends. They're risking danger

  themselves, and I

  want to help." He eyed the youth warily. "Maybe that's something you

  Vulcans can't understand."

  Soltar looked up at him sharply. "I do understand. As I said before,

  we aren't keeping you here against your will."

  "No .. . but you would let me go out into the desert without any

  protection."

  It seemed for a moment that Soltar would sigh, but he caught himself in

  time. "If I help you, I will have to inform the High Master."

  "You can do that after I'm gone." The Vulcan started to protest, but

  McCoy cut him off. "There's no time. My friends have already left. If

  I lose their trail, I'll be lost myself on the desert."

  The Vulcan rose with an air of resignation. "I can bring you what you

  need so that you will not lose your way. Stay here. I will return

  shortly."

  "Thanks," McCoy said, grinning. "Thanks very much."

  Sunset. The air was cooling quickly, but McCoy still felt

  uncomfortably warm in his soft suit and cloak. The boots Soltar had

  brought made navigating the sand dunes far easier; even so, his ankle

  ached dully with each step. It was just as well that he had waited

  before following Spock and Anitra; it had occurred to him that once he

  got close enough, Anitra might be able to sense his presence. He

  pulled the old-fashioned compass from a hidden pocket in the cloak, and

  oriented himself until he faced east-northeast, the direction where

  ShanaiKahr lay. In the fading light, it gave him comfort to see two

  sets of footsteps heading in the

  same direction; the wind, which had howled so devilishly only an hour

  before, had stilled itself just before sunset so that their trail had

  not yet been erased.

  Somewhere, beyond his line of vision, Spock and Anitra were together.

  He tried to imagine what they were talking about, and was instantly

  engulfed by an irrational wave of jealousy. McCoy tried to clear his

  head; Anitra was probably too far away, but such a precaution couldn't

  hurt. He concentrated on his pace; they would outdistance him soon if

  he wasn't careful, and he had no intention of losing them. The wind

  would stir up soon and erase their footsteps in the sand; McCoy only

  hoped that Spock's instincts were as good as the compass.

  He continued across the sand for some time, breathing heavily from his

  quickened pace, as the sky darkened and the desert faded slowly to an

  indistinct gray. The first soft, tentative breeze rustled his cloak

  and carried the sharp, metallic cry of ale matya. The sound was

  uncomfortably close, and McCoy stepped up his pace; a moving target, at

  least, had a better chance.

  The le matya screamed again; only this time, it was closer.

  "Wait." Anitra stiffened and stopped dead in the sand. Spock waited

  next to her, listening. "Ale matya," he said, "but not close enough to

  be a threat."

  Anitra's face was hidden within the hood of her cloak. "That's not it.

  It's McCoy."

  Spock raised an eyebrow.

  "Over there." She pointed in the direction of the le matya's scream.

  She broke into a run, and Spock followed; beyond the slow, sloping

  rise of one dune, and then another, was McCoy, cloaked as they were.

  Even though he was covered by the loose folds of his garment, Anitra

  could see that his body was tensed; he had drawn the ahn vahr that

  Soltar had provided, and his whole attention was focused on the squat,

  muscular reptile facing him.

  Spock cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a short, eerie cry.

  The le matya turned dully in his direction and sniffed the air with its

  tongue.

  "Doctor," Spock called, "do not move."

  But it was too late. McCoy broke into a run the moment the creature

  was distracted. Spock directed another cry at the le matya, but it was

  too enraged by the thought of its dinner fleeing. It leaned back on

  two mighty, rippling haunches and pounced.

  "No," Anitra screamed, but it was carried off by the wind.

  Spock fired; the brilliant beam from the phaser split the darkness..

  ..

  But McCoy never saw it.

  Chapter Ten

  anitra flew to McCoy's side and dropped to her knees. "Thank God," she

  murmured. The doctor sat, conscious but dazed, in the sand.

  Spock came over. "Are you all right, Doctor?"

  McCoy nodded, half breathless. "I'm okay. It just knocked the wind

  out of me, that's all."

  Spock helped the doctor to his feet.

  "I know what you're going to say." McCoy was already on the defensive.

  "I'm already causing you to lose more time again. But dammit, it was a

  simple case of bad luck. It could have happened to any of us."

  "It would not have happened at all," Spock said stonily, "if you had

  not disobeyed a direct order. And I am amazed at your capacity for

  recurring 'bad luck'." His eyes scanned the doctor briefly. "Any

  scratches?"

  "No. I'm glad you came when you did." McCoy looked at Anitra. "Did

  you know it was me?"

  She put a hand on his arm. "Fear travels a long way."

  He smiled. "I had enough to get to ShanaiKahr and back. Thanks for

  noticing." He wobbled slightly.

  "What is it?" Anitra said, alarmed.

  "It's nothing." McCoy wiped a sudden trickle of cold sweat from his

  forehead.

  Spock caught him before he fell and eased him gently to the ground.

  "What's wrong with him?" Anitra cried. />
  Spock examined McCoy's limp form and pointed to the small scratch on

  the doctor's wrist where tiny beads of blood were already congealing in

  the dry air. "The scratch of ale matya is quite poisonous."

  "Maybe so mething in the medikit--" Anitra suggested.

  Spock shook his head. "The poison requires a specific antidote.

  Without it, he will die."

  Anitra fought to keep her voice from trembling. "How soon?"

  "The cut is superficial... an hour, perhaps two."

  "An hour--" The words caught in her throat. "Do you think we could get

  him to a doctor by then?"

  "Possibly. But transporting him is dangerous. It could speed the

  spread of the poison."

  "I'll go to the city, then." Anitra was resolute. "I'll bring

  someone."

  "No. I am more familiar with the city. I know where the healer

  lives."

  "Then tell me. I would know if the healer is safe to bring back here."

  She paused, and in perfect imitation of him, said, "I am the logical

 

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