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Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS

Page 24

by J. M. Dillard


  something else .. . something horrible. With grief and revulsion, she

  remembered Silek.

  But where was she now? There was something familiar about the place,

  as though she had been here before, perhaps with Sarek.. ..

  The starship. She put her feet on the floor and went to find Spock.

  "It worked!"

  Spock raised both eyebrows at the shout that emanated from his

  communicator. Next to him, Anitra and McCoy grinned.

  "Are you quite sure, Captain?"

  "The bridge crew is straggling in, making their apologies. They all

  seem to be their affable selves again." Kirk exchanged smiles with

  Uhura and Sulu, both at their stations. "What can we do to help you at

  this end?"

  "The buoys will be ready soon, Captain. When you have someone manning

  the transporter room, we'll send them up and then feed you the

  coordinates for their placement in the atmosphere."

  "Let me know when you're ready. Oh, and Mr. Spock.. ."

  "Captain?"

  "I have someone here who will be beaming down shortly." He smiled

  over at Amanda.

  The city began falling asleep. On the streets, a few souls dropped in

  their tracks and slept where they fell. In the air above them,

  passengers in skimmers slumped over their control panels and were

  gently shepherded by the computer to their preprogrammed destinations.

  They never disembarked. The thin, white cloud descended and found its

  way into homes, buildings, even the caverns of Gol, where T'Sai and her

  followers slept. It filled the halls of the empty academy --except for

  the one room which had been sealed with lead walls. People fighting,

  strangling, killing each other, fell to the ground together, locked in

  gruesome embraces.

  The planet Vulcan slept, and the evil faded.

  EPILOGUE

  "I think I need to talk to you," Anitra said. She stood hesitantly in

  the doorway of McCoy's quarters..

  "Come in, my dear." McCoy smiled warmly. "Can I get you something to

  drink?"

  "Absolutely," she said before he'd even had a chance to finish the

  question. "I assume it'll be sour mash."

  "Bourbon. Sour mash is mighty hard to find out here."

  "It'll do." She stood and looked around, obviously uncomfortable, as

  he poured the drinks. Her eyes were large and bright.

  He turned away from the cabinets and gave her one of the glasses he was

  holding. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. It has something to do with

  your leaving the service."

  Her jaw dropped. "How'd you know?"

  "Sit down, Anitra, and relax."

  She took a seat and he sat across from her behind the desk and held up

  his glass in a toast. "To your leaving the service."

  She raised her drink but did not smile. "You sound almost happy about

  it."

  "Quite the contrary. I am heartbroken. But I want what's best for

  you." He said it softly so that she would understand he was serious,

  then took a swallow of the whiskey.

  "Funny, I feel exactly the same way." She drank and leaned forward

  with a conspiratorial air. "You wanted to know about the ulcer. Now

  that I'm leaving, I can say that it had something to do with the fact

  that I wasn't cut out for intelligence work."

  "I thought it was just the one 'project'--"

  She shook her head. "They were always after me to get involved in more

  projects for them. It was beginning to get very political--" She took

  a huge gulp of her drink. "I don't feel guilty. I've done my

  duty--the galaxy is once again safe for the Federation's particular

  brand of democracy, so I told them where to put their projects and

  resigned my commission."

  "Good for you," McCoy said approvingly. "And I understand that the

  Vulcans are once again their logical selves."

  "Yes, but the toll on the population was great. Spock told me they

  found two of the boxes with the contents still intact."

  "My God! What did they do with them?"

  "You know the Vulcans. They're on display at the academy mus eum."

  McCoy stiffened. "Are they insane? What if one of those damn things

  decides to open?"

  Anitra shrugged and sipped her drink calmly. "Nothing will happen.

  They've got them shrouded behind a dozen force fields."

  "Well .. ." McCoy said grudgingly, "I still think they're asking for

  trouble."

  "If they are, you know what to do, Doctor."

  He smiled at that, but it faded quickly. "Where will you go?"

  "Back home, I think. I'd like to do private research, maybe with my

  dad."

  "We're all really going to miss you."

  "Promise me something," she said, her violet eyes large with sorrow.

  "Anything," McCoy said gently, suddenly touched.

  "Promise me you won't let them take the microphone out of the captain's

  shower again. I went to so much trouble this last time."

  "Why you--" McCoy said.

  She grinned, an imp once again.

  Beyond the outskirts of ShiKahr lay the small shrine that housed the

  city's dead. There were no bodies there, merely polished black

  markers, each inscribed with two names the name by which the deceased

  was known to all written in modern Vulcan, and the family name in

  ancient script. Recently, the number of new markers had increased

  startlingly.

  Spock knelt forward and brushed the sand away from two of the markers.

  T'Ylle and Silek were not physically here; the sand was too soft and

  shifting for burial. Their bodies had been cremated, and Sarek, as the

  closest living relative, had scattered the ashes on the desert wind.

  They were a part of the roaming desert tide now, part of the sand that

  polished the markers until they glistened in the sun.

  Spock touched the markers of the aunt and uncle he

  had never seen alive. To both of them, the planet owed its thanks,

  and they would never know. But the family would remember,

  After a time, he rose and headed slowly toward the city. Behind him,

  the wind stirred, uncovering a small object left by a mourner on

  Silek's grave.

  Encased in heavy crystal, forever safe from the ravages of wind and

  sand, was a small, perfect yellow rose.

 

 

 


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