Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS

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Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS Page 18

by J. M. Dillard

"My hypos never made you nauseous, Spock," McCoy said, with a small,

  vehement burst of energy. "That was all in your head."

  "I see," Spock replied. "Just as it is in your head now. Regardless

  of all that, the antidote Anitra obtained saved your life."

  Anitra blushed. "Actually, Roy was responsible. I wouldn't have made

  it back in time if he hadn't--"

  "Oh, my God ..." McCoy paled again as he looked behind Spock and

  Anitra at Roy. "I knew it. I've died and gone to hell. My grandma

  always told me this would happen, but I never believed it.. .."

  Roy growled and retreated closer toward his skimmer to show that the

  feeling was mutual.

  "Am I to understand that you know this gentleman, Doctor?"

  "Damn straight. The sucker insulted Anitra and gave me a black eye."

  "And you cost me a tooth," Roy started to protest loudly.

  "A drunken brawl," Spock said with a contemptuous air, "in a tourist

  bar--"

  Anitra stamped her foot. "Shut up, all of you! And you, Doctor--he

  saved your life. He gave me a ride back here. The least you could do

  is thank him."

  "Thank him," McCoy scoffed weakly. "Not on your life."

  Spock leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Doctor, I suggest you

  treat the young gentleman with more respect. He has a skimmer, which

  we can use to get to the academy."

  "I'd rather die in the desert," McCoy asserted.

  "If you would, then you will die alone," Spock said. "I, for one, much

  prefer to take a skimmer rather than continue our journey on foot."

  McCoy considered the alternative for a moment, then turned and

  addressed himself to Roy, looking for all the worlds as if he had

  something extremely unsavory in his mouth. "Say there .. Roy, is it? I

  didn't mean to be hasty just then. Maybe we can let bygones be

  bygones.. .."

  Roy let them out in front of the Vulcan Science Academy well before

  dawn.

  McCoy stepped shakily from the skimmer, Anitra and Spock each holding

  onto an arm. "Well, where is it?"

  Spock looked at him quizzically.

  "The academy," McCoy repeated. "Where is it?"

  "This is it, Doctor."

  McCoy looked at the tall, domed buildings stretching out to infinity in

  every direction. "This isn't an academy, Spock--this is a city."

  "It is nearly twice the size of Star Fleet Academy, Doctor, if that is

  what you're comparing it to." The rows of buildings seemed identical

  to McCoy, but Spock seemed to know where he was going. He led them,

  over blessedly un shifting rock, for what seemed to McCoy an

  interminably long time, until he brought them to the door of one of the

  buildings. McCoy could not understand how Spock had managed to tell it

  from any of the others, for the buildings were not numbered; he knew he

  would never be able to find his way back alone.

  In spite of the ungodliness of the hour, the door was unlocked and

  opened easily. Spock and Anitra drew their phasers; Spock went first,

  Anitra behind, still clutching McCoy's upper arm with one hand in a

  gesture of support.

  But the halls were empty and quiet. McCoy gave silent thanks for the

  smooth stone floors, easily navigable in the darkness. Spock led them

  to a downward staircase; from the first landing they came to, they saw

  a light coming from that floor, and two Vulcans talking calmly in the

  hall. The Vulcans turned, saw them, and moved quickly into one of the

  offices.

  "They're all right," said Anitra. "I think they're more worried about

  us."

  They continued walking downward until McCoy's knees began to ache. At

  last, the stairs went no further. Spock led them to a large room on

  the right and touched the wall. The room filled with light.

  "This is one of the medical labs," Spock said. "I believe it is one of

  the best equipped."

  "No kidding." McCoy whistled. Some of the equipment he could not even

  recognize. It made sickbay on the Enterprise look quaintly

  old-fashioned.

  "I thought you might find it interesting," Spock continued. He pressed

  another panel on the wall and gray metal walls slid out, covering the

  old stone ones. The door behind him disappeared.

  "What are you doing?" McCoy asked.

  "The lab can be sealed or opened by using this panel," Spock answered.

  A safety feature--in case of a radioactive leak during certain

  experiments. It cannot be opened, however, from the outside."

  "Lucky for us," McCoy muttered.

  "You'll find a food synthesizer here," Spock said. "You'll have

  everything you need. "

  "You're not going," Anitra said. It was a question.

  "Our experiments would be quite useless without a subject."

  "You think you're going out there alone to bring *] someone back?"

  McCoy asked.

  "You're hardly in shape to assist, Doctor," Spock said, with more than

  a hint of sarcasm. McCoy did not dispute it; his ankle still slowed

  him down, and he was still weak and queasy from the le matya poison--or

  was it the antidote?

  "You're right," he said unhappily.

  "You can't go without me," Anitra said. "I'm the one best suited for

  finding someone--"

  "I already know of someone infected," said Spock.

  "But who--" Anitra broke off as she realized the answer. "Your

  father?"

  Spock confirmed her guess by ignoring the question. "I shall attempt

  to procure a skimmer so that the trip does not take long. I do not

  intend to walk across the desert this time."

  "That's insane!" McCoy exploded. "Your father will kill you, Spock.

  We know how dangerous he is."

  "We can't let you risk something like that," Anitra chimed in. "It

  makes more sense to use someone in the capital."

  Spock gazed at them both calmly. "We already know that my father is

  affected. Therefore, Anitra need not risk herself. Secondly, we know

  where he is likely to be, so we do not need to waste time searching

  for him. Thirdly, his sphere of influence is enormous; he can cause

  tremendous harm to the planet. That alone is an important reason to

  stop him."

  "You're going all the way out to your parents' house to bring him

  back?" McCoy asked. "Spock, I think that's the most illogical thing

  you've ever suggested."

  A minute change in Spock's expression indicated that the insult had

  registered. "It is not far by skimmer, Doctor. And the testing may,

  at times, be quite dangerous for the subject. Are you willing to

  inflict that on an unconsenting stranger?"

  "It's a chance for them--"

  "There's a risk in any type of testing. I know that my father would be

  willing to take the risk."

  McCoy shook his head. "It still doesn't make sense to me."

  "All right," Anitra said. "You can go--as long as I go with you."

  "No," said Spock. "We need you to set up the lab."

  "McCoy can handle it."

  Spock sighed. "You know best what type of experiments to set up for.

  Admitted, my father is dangerous. But we cannot risk losing you,

  Anitra. If the two of us are killed, Vulcan's fate is in the hands of

  McCoy." The tw
o of them turned and looked at the doctor.

  Anitra sighed. "I suppose you're right," she said.

  "Well, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence," McCoy said.

  Spock ignored him. "Before you let me in again," he said to Anitra,

  "use the mind link. Understand?"

  She nodded as he pushed the panel. The door opened briefly, then

  closed behind him.

  "We're crazy to let him go," McCoy said to her.

  "The whole thing is crazy," said Anitra. "But I know why he has to

  go."

  McCoy looked at her.

  "It's a family thing," she said. "He is responsible to stop Sarek

  before he kills again."

  Chapter Eleven

  kirk took a deep breath and let go of the rungs. His momentum knocked

  Uhura and she fell, squawking, beneath him. She struck the landing

  first, but did not entirely break his fall. He fell sideways across

  her, his back and side striking the floor. For a moment he lay

  stunned, the wind knocked out of him, but the memory of Sulu galvanized

  him into action. He stood up, sucked in a deep breath and winced--a

  rib was broken.

  Still unconscious, Uhura lay half in the shaft landing, half in the

  corridor, and Kirk bent over her, but the sound of Sulu climbing down

  the shaft stopped him. He found Uhura's phaser on the other side of

  the corridor and picked it up--no point in leaving it for Sulu.

  Sulu stepped over Uhura with a singular lack of concern for his injured

  comrade and faced Kirk in the corridor. He carried the long rapier in

  his teeth. Kirk noticed he also wore a phaser, and he decided to fire

  his own before Sulu could get to it. Sulu fell.

  Kirk leaned against the wall, gasping, each breath exquisite misery. He

  looked at the corridor; he was on C deck, officers' quarters, and damn

  lucky that no one

  had been passing by to see what had happened. C deck usually bustled

  with activity, but now it was silent, as though those who frequented

  its halls had shut themselves away. Kirk deemed it a good thing, as

  his broken rib ruled out any possibility of carrying two bodies down

  the emergency shaft to auxiliary.

  He tried to bend down toward Uhura, gave it up, and knelt, his back

  ramrod straight, beside her. Her pupils were not dilated, and she

  would probably come to shortly, although he could not be sure without a

  mediscanner. She seemed to have no serious injuries, save for a wrist

  that was already swelling to alarming proportions. He rose with

  difficulty.

  Slowly, grimacing, he grabbed Sulu's ankles and began dragging him in

  the direction of his quarters.

  The security system was still on, but the gate yielded to Spock's code.

  He felt a faint surprise; he had fully expected Sarek to change it, but

  apparently his father did not fear his return. It was quite possible,

  Spock reflected glumly, that he welcomed it.

  He walked slowly through the gate and did not flinch as it closed

  behind him. Before him, the door to the house opened invitingly. The

  sensors recognized him, welcomed him, anticipated his every move, and

  if Sarek was taking the trouble to monitor them, then he also knew his

  son was here.

  And he was waiting.

  Spock came to a halt at the sight of the central room. Even in the

  weak light, he could see things that were disturbing. The portrait of

  mother and son hung right side up in its proper place, but it had been

  slashed on the diagonal with a sharp weapon. The furniture had

  not been disturbed, but the large white sofa that his mother had

  brought with her from Terra was stained with huge splotches of dark

  green. Spock's eyes followed the blood across the soft carpet and back

  toward the guest rooms. In the gray light, it was impossible for him

  to tell how old the stains were; he walked over to the sofa and touched

  it with his hand. It was cool and dry. Unconsciously, he wiped his

  hand on his pants as he stood quiet, listening.

  All within was silence.

  With careful steps he moved to the garden window, to see if Sarek was

  in his customary place of meditation, but the stone bench was empty.

  It occurred to him then that his father might be dead.

  He forced himself to follow the bloody trail back to the guest rooms.

  It led to the room where Anitra had slept. Standing before the door,

  he became uncomfortably aware of the smell, and had to argue with

  himself for a full minute before he was able to go in.

  When the body pitched forward, he jumped backward a good three feet.

  The corpse that hit the carpeted floor with a soft thud was that of a

  middle-aged Vulcan male whom Spock recognized as one of Sarek's

  acquaintances from the academy. Rigor mortis had already set in, and

  in the heat there was already the subtle scent of incipient decay.

  Spock did not bother to examine him to determine the cause of death; he

  already knew more than he cared to about how the man had died. He

  backed away from the corpse without touching it, calm, but beneath the

  overlay of logic there was a growing thread of fear and revulsion, a

  low hum, like the soft beating of insects' wings.

  It increased as he made his way back to the central area. The door to

  his parents' bedroom was open, and he went inside. Unlike the other

  rooms, all was in order here--the room was neat--too neat, as though it

  had not been inhabited for several days. On the low dresser across

  from the untouched bed was a hologram of Spock's parents Sarek stern

  in full ambassadorial dress, Amanda smiling beside him. Spock stood

  gazing at the picture, captivated for a moment by the way they had

  been.

  There was a sound from outside the room, soft, almost inaudible, but

  enough to make Spock spin about toward the door with the phaser.

  No one was there. The sound had emanated from another room, most

  likely Sarek's study.

  The door to the study was closed. Spock walked toward it silently

  until he stood as close as he possibly could without opening it. He

  aimed the phaser at chest level and charged.

  The sight of his father made him freeze. Sarek sat at his terminal,

  slumped down in the chair, and for a moment, Spock thought he was

  another corpse until he stirred, struggling to speak. His skin was

  drained of color, and his eyes were sunken above deep circles. He

  looked at his son, and it seemed to Spock that the eyes belonged once

  again to his father. They were trying to tell him something, but Spock

  could not interpret the message--for although they were Sarek's eyes,

  they were at the same time different, clouded with alien emotions Spock

  had never seen in his father before fear and pleading.

  Sarek attempted to lift his head, but the effort required was too great

  and he let it fall back again. His

  lips worked silently for a moment before he was able to form words.

  "Help me," he said.

  "Father?" Spock said. He moved closer; Sarek did not stir in his

  chair.

  "Help me," Sarek croaked.

  "What do you want me to do?" Spock asked.

  "Help me up," Sarek said. He extended a trembling hand.


  Spock reached for the hand--then stopped. He stood helplessly for a

  moment, teetering on the edge of indecision.

  Sarek spoke again, his voice gentle, persuasive, the voice of a

  diplomat. "Don't fear me, Spock. You do not need to fight me any

  longer."

  For the first time in his life, Spock acted on a sheer hunch. He

  raised the phaser at Sarek.

  Sarek's eyes bored into his. "Put the phaser down, Spock. You will

  not harm me. You are my son."

  "You are n ot my father," Spock said.

  Sarek closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The sun was beginning to

  clear the shadows from the room, and Spock could see the lines etched

  in his father's face. Sarek spoke again, his voice deep with

  weariness. "If I am not your father, then who am I?"

  "I do not know. But my father does not kill." Spock steeled himself

  to fire the phaser; any further conversation with the demon would be

  pointless, not to mention hazardous.

  But before he did, Sarek groaned, clutching at his heart, and crumpled

  further into the chair. Spock could not resist the instinct to lean

 

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