Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS

by J. M. Dillard

She laughed. "If Sarek is all right, you must have found the answer.

  That's wonderful! Tell me everything."

  "It seems," said McCoy, "that these .. . critters multiply so rapidly

  that they have to feed, or find a new host--or die. That's what

  happened to them when we kept you and Sarek isolated for a day." He

  nodded at Spock and Sarek. The two sat at the console, calmly arguing

  about something--hopefully, the best means of implementing the plan.

  McCoy cleared his throat. "Maybe you two gentlemen should consult Dr.

  Lanter before you make any definite decisions."

  Sarek nodded politely, as if to a somewhat unfamiliar acquaintance.

  There was uncertain recognition on his face, as if he remembered and

  yet could not remember their most recent encounter.

  "Dr. Lanter," Spock said with a formality that was belied by the

  brightness in his eyes, "I am glad to see you are feeling like yourself

  once again."

  "I'm glad, too," she said. "What exactly are you two discussing?"

  Spock explained it to her. "We've already located the sedative we need

  in the computer's medical index. It ought to be possible to

  manufacture a sufficient quantity here. However, we were discussing

  the problem of administering the drug to the general population."

  "Gaseous form would be the most logical," Anitra said.

  "We are agreed on that."

  "Good," she said. "Then we'd need some stationery antigravity buoys

  set up in the lower atmosphere-something time delayed or remote

  controlled. A transporter would be the best thing for setting them in

  place, but since we haven't got one, we could probably use a skimmer to

  position them. We wouldn't need to go that high up."

  "And God knows you're already an expert at stealing skimmers," McCoy

  retorted, but he was ignored.

  Spock grunted. "The physics lab might contain some of what you'd need

  for the buoys."

  "Great," she said. "Let's get working."

  There was a sudden loud noise that made McCoy jump--a sound at once

  familiar and frightening. It was coming from Spock's communicator on

  the console. Spock froze.

  "Don't answer it," McCoy told him. "It's some kind of trick."

  "If they've found the communicators," Spock said, "they've found us. It

  hardly makes any difference whether I answer or not. Besides, it could

  be Lieutenant Uhura."

  McCoy looked searchingly at Anitra. "Don't look at me," she said,

  waving him away. "I told you, I'm no good at long distance. I have no

  idea who it is."

  "Maybe if we don't answer it," said McCoy, "they'll think we're not

  here."

  Spock spoke as patiently as if he were explaining something to a

  dim-witted child. "Doctor, they can easily scan the area and ascertain

  exactly who is here. They have probably already done so. If they were

  going to attack us, they would gain no advantage by contacting us

  first." He picked up the communicator and snapped it open. "Spock

  here."

  "Spock! You're all right!"

  "Is this the captain?" Spock asked. There was more than a little

  chill in his voice.

  "I know what you're thinking, Spock, but Uhura knocked me over the head

  and stuffed me into a closet. I know it sounds crazy, but when I came

  to--"

  "Actually, Captain, it makes an enormous amount of sense," Spock said

  gratefully.

  "It's Jim, isn't it?" McCoy exulted. "Well, I'll be damned. I should

  have known he'd get that ship up and running."

  "Bones, is that you?" Kirk asked.

  Spock handed the communicator to McCoy. "Guess what, Jim? We've got a

  little sedative down here that's guaranteed to drive the devil right

  out of a body--"

  Spock took the communicator back. "What the doctor is trying to say,

  Captain, is that sedation works as well as isolation."

  "Are you sure about that, Spock? We've already gassed most of the crew

  and it hasn't seemed to have any effect--"

  "It would not, unless they were sedated for the proper amount of time.

  An extended period of isolation is required. This sedative has an

  especially long lasting effect, with, hopefully, the same outcome. It

  ought to work."

  "You're going to single-handedly gas all of Vulcan?"

  Spock paused. "I have the help of three others, sir."

  "You know what I mean."

  "Basically, yes."

  "Then I'm volunteering the Enterprise as a test site. I've got four

  hundred very unpleasant crew members

  sealed off on this ship. Why not try it on a small scale first?"

  Spock looked at McCoy and Anitra, who both nodded. "Captain, is your

  transporter functioning and can you get to it safely?"

  "Yes."

  "We'll be setting aside some canisters of gas for you to beam up, sir.

  It'll take some time, but we'll notify you when they're ready." He

  paused. "I would be most interested in hearing the results."

  Chapter Fourteen

  tom son sat at Uhura's station, grinning her huge, lopsided smile.

  "The calls, Captain. They're coming in from all over the ship. They

  want to know what's going on."

  Kirk grinned back. "What do you think we ought to tell them,

  Lieutenant?"

  "How about--we'll explain everything to them later."

  "Sounds good to me." Kirk swiveled in his command chair to face her.

  "Make a ship wide announcement, Tomson. Tell all members of the bridge

  crew they're now considered late reporting for duty and it's twenty

  demerits if they don't get up here on the double."

  Tomson chuckled. "Aye, sir."

  She made the announcement and watched as the lights on the board

  flashed dizzyingly in response. She closed her eyes. "I was

  wondering, sir--" She hesitated.

  Kirk raised his eyebrows quizzically.

  "There's someone I'd like to check on personally--when the bridge crew

  gets here, that is--if it's all right."

  Kirk looked around the bridge. "I think I can hold down the fort by

  myself until everyone gets here." He smiled. "You go on ahead."

  Tomson blushed at the unexpected kindness. "Thank you, sir."

  She left the bridge with what seemed to Kirk like an alarming amount of

  haste. He shook his head in surprise. It was hard for him to imagine

  anyone on board who would be that important to the cold-hearted Tom

  son--but then, one never knew. He had already had a glimpse of what

  lay under all that ice.... In the turbolift, Tomson fingered the phaser

  on her belt with trembling hands. She had been waiting for this for a

  long time; when he had called in and given his location, she could

  hardly believe her luck. Now, if she could only get him alone, for

  just a moment, no one would be the wiser. They would simply assume it

  was part of the carnage that had gone on before.. ..

  The lift deposited her on D deck, junior officers' quarters. She

  passed a couple of crewmen in the corridor and took care to look as

  dazed and lost as they did. In their present state, they would never

  notice another crew member wandering around the hall.

  She had not been able to forget exactly where Stryker's quarters were.

  The door o
pened at the first buzz.

  Stryker looked quite honestly surprised--and hardly military--he had at

  least a week's growth of beard. His pale eyes were red-rimmed, as

  though he

  hadn't slept in at least as long. "Lieutenant! Maybe you can tell me

  what's going on."

  "Maybe I can," she said. Her hand shook as she raised the phaser.

  "Hey, wait a minute!" Stryker's colorless eyes darkened with fear.

  "What in hell is this all about?"

  "You don't remember." Tomson's voice was as listless as a

  sleepwalker's.

  "Remember what?"

  "Moh's dead."

  Stryker's face twisted. "Al-B? Dead?"

  "You killed him."

  "You're crazy! I don't know anything about it. I didn't even know he

  was dead!" He took a step closer to a dresser, but Tomson gestured

  with the phaser in such a way as to let him know that if he took

  another step, he would not live long enough for his foot to strike the

  ground.

  "You don't know because you don't remember," she said in a flat,

  mechanical voice. "But you killed him."

  The pain on Stryker's face was so sharp that she felt it, as keenly as

  she had felt it when she had first seen al-B dead. She had to look

  away.

  Surprisingly, he did not take advantage of her inattention. Instead,

  he leaned against the wall and crumpled to the ground, weeping. "Moh's

  dead .. . God, if it's really true, then go ahead and shoot me."

  She had prepared herself for such a reaction from him .. . but she had

  not prepared herself for her own. Sobbing, she went over and put her

  arms around him.

  Uhura awoke slowly, feeling pleasantly rested, and began to stretch.

  It seemed that she'd been sleeping too long in the same position. It

  was then that she noticed two things one, that she was in a strange

  room with no memory of how she had gotten there, and two, that she was

  in Sulu's arms. She gasped so loudly at the latter revelation that the

  helmsman, whose nose was at most two inches from her own, opened his

  left eye and gasped back.

  They extricated themselves from a most curious embrace--a j umble of

  arms and legs--murmuring vague apologies all the while. Uhura was glad

  her complexion was too dark to show the blood rushing to her face, but

  Sulu was not as fortunate.

  "What--" he began, then became confused about which question should

  most appropriately be asked first, and started again. "Where are

  we?"

  Uhura frowned. There was a void in her memory, as though someone had

  neatly plucked out all recall of the most recent events. She

  concentrated on the last thing she remembered happening--and, realizing

  that Sulu was the enemy, made a quick scramble for the small dagger

  that lay only a few feet away on the floor. She grimaced sickly as she

  picked it up--it had blood on it--but recovered quickly, and, still on

  her knees, brandished it at Sulu. He had watched, sitting quietly on

  the floor, too amazed to react. He looked at the dagger and then, on

  some instinct, down at his chest. He had been sliced diagonally across

  his torso, not deeply enough to cause any real damage, but enough to

  cut through the fabric of his tunic and stain it with blood.

  "Hey," he said, his dark eyes wide with a mixture of

  anger and confusion, "ease up, Uhura. Just what do you think you're

  gonna do with that thing?"

  "Don't come near me," Uhura threatened.

  "Okay, I won't," Sulu said. He was still too indignant to be

  frightened. "Why'd you go and cut me like this?"

  Uhura hesitated and sat back on her haunches. "I honestly don't know.

  I just remember I had this hidden on me and I think ... we were trying

  to kill each other."

  "Kill each other!" Sulu scoffed, but then he eyed his tunic. "Maybe

  we were," he said in a voice full of wonder, "but I still don't

  understand."

  Tomson's voice came through the intercom, and they sat listening to

  it.

  "What's she doing up there?" Uhura demanded haughtily.

  "I don't see you up on the bridge," Sulu countered. "Be quiet and

  listen."

  When the message finished, Sulu got to his feet. "I still don't

  understand what's going on."

  "I understand part of it," Uhura said. "I can explain it to you on our

  way up to the bridge."

  "Last one there's a--" Sulu said and impacted with the door. "What

  the--"

  "We're locked in." Uhura was indignant. "Call the bridge and find out

  what's going on."

  Scott found himself stretched out in the corridor near engineering. He

  yawned and rose stiffly, put a hand to his mouth, and noticed there was

  a phaser in it, fully charged and set to kill. He clicked his tongue

  and changed it to the lowest setting. When he looked

  up, he saw the bulkhead where it came to a corner in front of him; it

  was scorched, having very nearly been blown away.

  "What the devil--" He walked around the corner and saw Chekhov on the

  other side, struggling to get to his feet.

  "Mr. Scott," the navigator said. "I seem to have been knocked

  unconscious--"

  "Ye're not the only one, laddie." Scott hoisted him to his feet. "I

  was lyin' just on the other side there."

  Chekhov hissed, pointing. "The bulkhead, sir, look!" On his side, the

  outer wall had been blown away, exposing the minute circuitry beneath.

  "We had better call security. Who would do such a thing?"

  Without answering, Scott bent down and retrieved the phaser near

  Chekhov's feet. It, too, was set to kill. Scott lowered the setting,

  but not without showing it to Chekhov first.

  "Apparently, laddie, we did."

  Amanda was remembering with perfect clarity; she had sat outside the

  door of the study, imagining what she would say to Sarek. She closed

  her eyes and pictured herself going inside; Sarek would be sitting at

  the computer terminal, and when she entered, he would gaze up calmly at

  her. And then she would do what she had never done before--rage and

  weep and flail her arms at him, spit venom at him, and make cruel and

  hurtful remarks about the things he had done to Spock, to her, all the

  things not forgotten over the years. She would say that she had raised

  a child who could not love her, and that it had broken her heart. She

  would say that he had scarred the boy, made him

  be ashamed to be what he was. She would say that life on Vulcan was

  unbearable, that it had been a horrible mistake to bring her here..

  ..

  And when she could think of nothing more to hurt him with, she would

  stand, trembling, with tears on her face. And Sarek would sit,

  unmoving and unmoved, his impassive eyes fixed on her, and he would say

  nothing.

  And .in her dream she saw what had really happened. She opened her

  eyes and saw that the door to Sarek's study was still closed. Inside,

  it was dark, except for the glow emanating from the terminal. Sarek

  gazed up and waited for her to speak. She rarely interrupted him while

  he was working.

  She clasped her hands in front of her, and in a carefully measur
ed

  voice said, "I must talk to you about Spock."

  He knew, of course, that she was angry; he always knew what she was

  feeling, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from him. "Then

  speak," he said. He sounded tired, although his face did not show

  it.

  "I have always tried to do as you have asked," she said, struggling to

  keep her voice steady, "and I have never asked much of you. But I

  cannot--" She broke off and lowered her head. Sarek waited quietly.

  "--I cannot choose between the two of you. I can't give one of you up.

  Please don't ask me to make that kind of choice."

  Sarek snapped the terminal off and sat quietly in his chair for some

  time; Amanda could no longer see his expression. At last he rose and

  moved toward her. She still could not see his face, but even in the

  darkness she could see that he held out his hand.

  "Sarek."

  She woke herself up saying the name aloud. She was sitting up on a bed

  in a room that she did not recognize. Something had happened to her,

  something that she could not remember .. . she closed her eyes and

  tried to remember.

  Sarek. She felt a sickening wave of terror; he had changed, had become