Black Fire (15 page)

Whenever he was permitted privacy, he unwrapped the tiny crystal sliver Scott had given him and studied its interesting properties. It generated an energy which disturbed normal biological function, and it could interfere with other transmitted energy. He yearned for a laboratory where he could fully analyze the properties of the substance.

With the bathing finished and his dignity somewhat restored, he lay flat as he had been placed, between the rich layers of warm fur. IIsa was combing her hair, relaxed and pleased. Spock startled her by initiating a conversation. He had not done that before.

"Begum, would you grant me a request?"

She walked over to her captive and stroked his shiny black hair. "If the request is reasonable, I will consider it."

"I miss my companion—Scott. Could I see him, even for a short time?" He hated to beg, but knew her well enough to know she would derive satisfaction from it. "Please, Begum, it is a small thing I ask."

"I will think about it, Spock. Now I have something for you to enjoy." She walked out of sight into the alcove, and returned with a vase. "This is our warmest season. All of the plant life on Tomarii now puts forth flowers and fruit. We don't have a great variety of plant life on our planet, but this is the most beautiful."

Extending out of the vase was a milk-white graceful stem with small heart-shaped leaves attached by slim stems, which fluttered with her movement toward him. A silvery-white seedpod was attached to a lower stem. Another pod, partially open, clung to an upper stem; it contained a number of delicate mauve beans with a splattering of bright red dots. The Begum held the vase in front of Spock for his inspection. He raised up on an elbow to get a better view.

"It is beautiful, Spock, but deadly. The seedpod and beans are poisonous. It is sad that such a lovely thing should be so lethal. Even a few of the beans can kill. But we can admire its beauty, can't we? Here, I will put it near you so you may enjoy it." She placed the vase containing the plant on a shelf near his pallet.

The next morning Spock awoke to see the very welcome face of Scott beaming down at him.

"Ye're a sight," the Scotsman chuckled, "long hair, beard, and if ye got any skinnier we could thread a needle wi' ye."

"Have you seen yourself lately, Mister Scott?"

"Aye, I could pass for a Tomariian if ye dinna look too close."

Turning to a more somber subject, Spock addressed the engineer in a low, intense tone.

"Mister Scott, I don't know how long IIsa will permit you to stay. It is imperative we have a serious talk. Help me to sit, please."

"How are ye doing, Spock? Any improvement at all?"

"No. All sensation is gone. I am unable to move. It is proving awkward and embarrassing, but I have been able to tolerate the inconvenience so far. But my physical well-being is not what I wanted to discuss with you. A sufficient time has passed for us to assume that Placus and the Klingons are not returning for us. I am convinced the Romulan would have returned for Julina if he was able to. It then follows that the escape attempt was unsuccessful or he was killed, which leaves us no hope of rescue. The Klingons cared little for our survival. If it hadn't suited their purpose, they wouldn't have helped us at all. That leaves the matter of escape from this planet to you.

"It is imperative for you to get back to the Federation. The crystal you gave me to study is a find of significant value. Without complete laboratory analysis I am unable to determine the full range of potential of the crystal, but I am convinced it is of great worth, even with the limited analysis I have been able to perform here.

"I believe it to be a trilithium crystal, containing one more lithium atom than our dilithium crystals. That in itself should indicate its value—it is a power source beyond anything we have ever possessed. It interferes with biological function, as you experienced when it was embedded in your shoulder, and it also has the ability to neutralize other power sources. As a start, I think you will find it effective in counteracting the effect of the Tomariians' restraining force. If you could obtain a larger sample, it would be of great value to the Federation."

"Aye, just think of the power we could harness for a starship!"

"Yes. A crystal the size of your finger could power the
Enterprise
. I see you realize the import of your discovery, but there is more. I have gotten a great deal of information from IIsa—there are times when she is most garrulous. This planet is the Tomariians' place of origin, but it is dying. They have retained their government here out of a sheer determination to preserve a vestige of their heritage. We are seeing only the central core of government; the bulk of the population is elsewhere. The Tomariians are numerous and present a formidable force when united. As you know, they consider individual lives expendable, rendering them relentless warriors. Their sphere of influence is considerable, and growing. They have concentrated on this sector, but are now looking to a broader region for conquest. They possess numbers, strength, and resources from many different worlds in staggering abundance. We would be hard pressed to defend ourselves against them. You must get back to the Federation to inform them immediately—our Romulan and Klingon allies realized the threat."

"That all may be true, Mister Spock, but I canna just take off an' leave ye here."

"That's very unrealistic. You are not able to actually protect me. I am helpless. You must accept the fact that I am expendable and find a way of getting back to the Federation. You have established a good relationship with IIob. It should be relatively easy for you to take advantage of that friendship and escape."

"No, Spock. Not wi'out ye. The captain would expect me ta get ye out o' here."

"I am ordering you to leave, Mister Scott. I am your superior officer."

"And I refuse to obey that order on grounds ye are medically unfit ta command."

"You aren't a medical officer, Mister Scott. You haven't the authority or the ability to make a medical judgment."

"Then it's a standoff, Spock. Ye canna force me ta take an order. We're not exactly on the
Enterprise
, ye know!"

As the debate intensified, their voices rose, bringing IIsa back into the room to find Scott red—faced with anger and Spock tense with exasperation.

"Leave!" she ordered. Scott stalked angrily out of the room.

"Your friend's visit was not what you had hoped. I am sorry. I hoped it would please you. I will see that he does not disturb you again."

Spock replied softly, "That won't be necessary."

Alone again, Spock contemplated the alternatives. He had to compel Scott to leave Tomarii.
While I live, Scott will not leave. I must make another attempt to remove the deterring factor—myself
, he thought coolly.
Scott and IIsa both assumed it
was Julina who had attempted to take my life. I have permitted that assumption. I must find another way and succeed this time
.

Surveying the clutter of artifacts around him, his eyes rested on the vase IIsa had presented to him on the previous evening. In it, the beautiful and deadly plant shimmered with a silver-white delicacy. He reached for the vase, stretching to cover the distance which would put it into his grasp. It took all of his effort to span the last inch, throwing him off balance and onto the cold stone floor. He lay still, waiting to see if anyone had heard him fall. No one had heard.

Now the vase was within reach. Emptying the opened seedpod, he cupped five small red-spotted beans in his hand. Spock put the beans into his mouth and swallowed deliberately.

With an almost academic interest in the sensations he should soon feel, the Vulcan lay back on the cold floor waiting for the poison to work. At first there was a flush, a tingling of warmth that caused a light sweat.
The poison is acting rapidly—excellent
, he thought. Finding it progressively more difficult to breathe, he tried to give in to the respiratory slowdown, but his body's reflex system would not permit it. The autonomic functions took over, forcing him to gasp for breath; he was thrashing with his body's effort to fight the poison. The sound reached the outer hall, and IIsa and a guard ran into the room to find him convulsed on the floor. She took him in her arms, trying to soothe the convulsions. His breath rattled and slowed, and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

She then saw the toppled vase and the empty seedpod. Realizing what Spock had done, she called for Scott—he was her only hope to save the Vulcan.
He
will know what to do
, she hoped. She lowered Spock from her lap, covered him with the furs, and waited.

She was feeling compassion; she had learned to care, to want survival for those close to her. It was disturbing and bewildering, yet somehow comforting. She had been introduced to a new way of feeling which had so impressed her it had become a part of her own behavior.

Studying Spock's still form, IIsa admitted to herself that she was reliant in some way on his continued existence.
I will miss him
. She felt an unaccustomed chill.
He must live!

2

"Captain, I've located a Vulcan reading," Martin announced, still peering into his sensors. "It's harder to detect a human one down there, but I think I've pinpointed Scott as well."

"Give the transporter chief the coordinates, Martin. Sulu, Leonidas, McCoy, prepare to beam down." He saw McCoy's over-large medical kit, and nodded grim approval.

Scott hadn't gotten all the way out of the compound before he was detained by a guard and rushed back to IIsa's apartment. He immediately sensed the urgency of the situation when IIsa frantically ran toward him and he saw the unconscious form of Spock on the floor.

"You must help him!" she pleaded in an un-Tomariian way.

The Scotsman felt for a pulse. He noted the gray of Spock's lips and the lack of respiration. "What happened?" he asked, confused by the sudden relapse.

"Poison, he took poison!"

"Spock? Try ta kill himself? That dinnia make sense!"

"Help him," she demanded desperately.

With no time to think about the situation, Scott kneeled beside Spock, placing his mouth over the Vulcan's. With no medicine available, the only recourse he had was the old method of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to keep Spock breathing. Time seemed to halt as he labored over the Vulcan. Scott was becoming faint with the effort of breathing for two and he realized he would have to stop soon, yet there was no one to replace him. He took one last deep breath, concentrating on the rhythm of breathing, trying to ignore the hopelessness of his endeavor.

The familiar hum of the transporter effect filled the room, amplified by the echoes against the rock walls. Solidifying before him was the entirely unexpected but very welcome form of Captain James T. Kirk. There was nothing closer than this moment to a miracle in Scott's experience, for behind the captain was Doctor Leonard McCoy.

Startled, IIsa froze for a short moment. Then she realized she was seeing intruders appear from the very air. Four burly Tomariians came running with weapons drawn, in response to her cry.

Kirk, Chekov, and Martin, with phasers ready, turned to shoot.

"No!" Scott shouted. "Not now. For God's sake, we don't want them down on us in force.

"Begum," Scott shouted excitedly. "It's McCoy—the doctor! A physician! Damn it!" He pointed to McCoy. "He can help Spock!"

McCoy rushed to Spock, extending his medical tricorder. The Tomariian guards poised to strike, but IIsa held them back.

McCoy directed the efforts to save Spock with lightning efficiency. "Scotty, you continue the resuscitation. I'll stimulate his heart."

McCoy leaned forward as he applied rhythmic pressure to the Vulcan's failing organ. He then quickly applied a shot of tri-ox to help Spock's breathing, and readjusted the hypo for a large dose of the very unpredictable drug cordrazine, which would stimulate heart action.

"Nothing," McCoy whispered. "Have to try more cordrazine, no matter how risky… ." He injected another dose of the stimulant into the Vulcan.

"That's enough to make the dead walk, and he's not responding. Another shot could really finish him."

"And if you don't?" Kirk asked.

"He'll die."

After one glance from Kirk, McCoy pumped another dose of the dangerous drug into Spock. Everyone was frozen in a tableau of tense waiting, straining to hear any evidence that Spock was breathing. After what seemed hours, a ragged intake of air could be heard in the silence.

"That did it, he's breathing again. Heart acton is slow. I'll need some oxygen, fast!"

Diverting his focus from Spock for the first time since beam-down, McCoy spoke into his communicator. "Nurse Chapel, beam down a stomach pump and some oxygen."

"You've found Spock? Is he all right?"

"Yes and no," McCoy barked, "Hurry!"

The medical supplies sparkled into existence in front of him.

IIsa watched McCoy carefully as he tended to Spock. He ran his medical scanner over the Vulcan's unconscious form, looking alarmed—Spock's hold on life was tenuous at best. Inserting the tube, he began pumping Spock's stomach.

"What are you doing?" the Begum asked, watching the procedure intently. She could imagine no more effective torture than that which the doctor seemed to be inflicting upon Spock, but dared not stop him for the Vulcan's sake.

McCoy examined the beans he had extracted from Spock's stomach. "The only thing that saved him was that he swallowed these things whole. He only bit into one of them. Nasty little things—deadly poison."

He ran the medical analyzer over the beans again. "Ordinarily, under these circumstances, I'd get him on his feet and walk him until he was alert."

"Why don't you do it now?" Kirk asked worriedly.

"Because he's paralyzed Jim. I knew that sliver would move. It's as bad as I expected it to be."

"Can you remove it?"

"Not yet, Jim. He's not strong enough to handle surgery of any kind. Besides the effect of the poison, he's undernourished and anemic. There's not enough copper in his blood to fill a thimble. It'll take time to build him up for any surgical procedure."