Gemini (19 page)

Escorted by some footmen who had beamed up from the palace, the princes rolled to a central, low dais that had been draped in the Nadorian flag—
and the
Enterprise
is showing the Nadorian colors far more respect than their planet has shown the Federation banner,
thought Kirk—and maneuvered into position behind it, waiting for the applause to subside.

The princes did look good, Kirk decided, grinning to himself, in retrospect, at the private joke that McCoy's treatments would kill either the disease or the patient. But there was something uneasy about them, something wrong. Kirk watched them for a few moments before he realized what it was: the princes had not once made eye contact with each other. Scanning the scene more closely, Kirk noted Chief Securitrix Llora in the shadows of the lift the princes had come from, scouring the crowd with her gaze. But that couldn't have been the reason for the monarchs' unease with each other. Recalling the distraught state of the Lady Pataal, Kirk thought he'd found the cause, if not yet the specific reason.

Regent Lonal came forward, shaking hands and bowing to the princes, which they took in good grace, saying something to him that made him beam with approval.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,
thought Kirk, and wondered into which category Lonal fit.

Then, since they were being hosted by a Federation starship, Commissioner Roget came forward and made a few gracious remarks. Automatically watching the crowd for any suspicious signs, Kirk saw Mrs. Roget applauding her husband, while nodding encouragingly. It wouldn't be the first time a politician had taken cues from a spouse offstage.

“ … and Their Serene Highnesses have informed me,” Kirk realized Roget was saying, “that they are most grateful to the efforts and the hospitality of the captain of the
U.S.S. Enterprise,
Captain James Tiberius Kirk.” He had been making his way to the main hatch, but turned just in time to see nearly every eye in the room turn toward him as a fresh round of applause sprang up. Kirk noted that most of the applause was coming from
Enterprise
personnel. Some of the Nadorian entourage were barely applauding at all, and some, like Llora, had defiantly crossed her hands across her chest.

“Our loyal subjects, and valued allies,” said Abon. There was a brief pause, then Prince Delor took up the conversational thread. Kirk frowned slightly. Before their surgery, one had followed up on the other's thoughts almost instantly. Well, perhaps this was the result of the separation. If so, it was a small price to pay for having saved their lives.

“We wish you to know how much we have valued your thoughts and prayers during these trying times. We are convinced that the reason for our presence here today is those good wishes by Nadorian citizens.”

“As well as the surgical skills of Dr. Leonard H. McCoy,” said Abon. Kirk wasn't sure—was Delor taken by surprise by Abon's remark? At any rate, some of the starship personnel applauded this statement, which Kirk was only too happy to join in on, both for the doctor's sake and for the higher cause of good relations between the Federation and the Nadorian government. Kirk didn't actually see McCoy anywhere around, and wondered briefly where the doctor had stowed himself. “We are different than you have known us, yes, but we are still your princes, and our wish for the continued prosperity and safety of the planet Nador and her people is still one.”

“But foremost in our minds has always been the welfare of the Nadorian people,” said Delor, seeming to try to jerk the presentation back on track. “To this end, we have for long days and nights pondered the issue of joining the United Federation of Planets and what that would mean for the future of Nador.”

“And it is our decision, and our most heartfelt recommendation to Counselor Docos, Counselor Hanor, and the full assemblage of the Nadorian Planetary Council—” Kirk caught a brief glimpse, on one of the portable viewscreens posted throughout the hold, first of the counselors' momentary shock on seeing their images broadcast all around their planet, then at their own shock at seeing that their shock had been broadcast. He hoped (not charitably, but not unfairly) that Counselor Hanor's face wasn't being broadcast on too many large screens. “—that Nador join the Federation for the good of her people and the confusion of her enemies.”

This time Kirk led the applause, and was prepared to see his own face, smiling and nodding, on the viewscreens across the hold and across Nador. He wondered if Peter was watching. Such a decision would still need to be seconded by the Nadorian people, Kirk knew, but such a ringing endorsement from the planet's rulers could hardly fail to influence the opinion of the public, as well.

Kirk was motioned to the dais by Commissioner Roget, who had, through the medium of one of his aides at the embassy, produced a bottle (thoroughly scanned by Giotto's staff) of Nadorian wine from the year the princes were born. Glasses were filled and toasts were raised to the people of Nador, to the people of the federation, to Their Serene Highnesses, to Commissioner Roget, and to Captain Kirk, which, Kirk noted with a smile he kept to himself, even Llora had to partake of.

To many of those assembled and across the planet Nador itself, it might have seemed like something of an anticlimax, with those behind the movement who assaulted the princes still at large, but Kirk knew how truly rare such moments actually were in life, and was just glad that this decision, at least, had been made known to the citizenry, who would be making the actual choice.

There remained in the ceremony several acts, but Kirk pulled out during the presentation of a bust of themselves—separated, of course—to the princes by representatives of the children of the planet Nador, and headed for the turbolift.

“Well, you must be feeling pretty good,” he heard McCoy say as he emerged onto the bridge. “You'll get your handover ceremony, and the princes are still hale and hearty.”

“I'll congratulate myself when we've caught the people who tried to scuttle the handover,” Kirk said, gravely. “Mr. Sulu, scanners on maximum range.”

“Aye, sir,” replied Sulu.

“And by the way, what are you doing here, Bones?” Kirk asked. “Shouldn't you be playing mother hen with your royal charges?”

“Roget and I discussed that,” said McCoy. “He thought that to have a Federation doctor hovering over them would show a certain kind of paternalism that would be bad for interplanetary relations—”

“So the good doctor decided to assist me here on the bridge,” said Spock, from his bridge post. His tone left no doubt that though Vulcans might not be able to bluff, they were quite comfortable with the concept of sarcasm.

“I'm certain you missed our little chats,” said McCoy, with a taunting smile Spock did not rise to.

“You'd better reschedule, Doctor,” said Kirk, keeping his eyes on the viewscreen. “We're liable to get pretty busy up here.”

“What's the matter, Jim?”

“Doctor,” said Spock, “it cannot have escaped even you that every public appearance of Their Serene Highnesses since our arrival has been accompanied by some manner of disturbance or assault.”

“And you're expecting this one to be no different?” asked McCoy, anxiously.

“We are,” said Spock. “Such a public telecast as this would seem the perfect place to blacken another of the Federation's eyes.”

“I've been caught twice by whoever's behind this,” said Kirk, grimly, “and I don't intend to be asleep at the switch for a third time. Weapons status, Sulu?”

“Full complements of phasers and photon torpedoes ready, sir,” said Sulu. “Shall I order phasers charged?”

“Negative. If we're being monitored, it might tip them off. Just have those weapons ready if we need them.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Well, I know when I'm not wanted,” said McCoy, dryly. “I think I'll sneak down to the cargo hold, grab a glass of wine, and—Jim!”

McCoy's tone was so urgent that Kirk instantly jerked his gaze from the viewscreen to the doctor, to see the surgeon bending over Spock, who had suddenly and inexplicably collapsed to the deck.

“I
ASSURE YOU
, D
OCTOR
,” said Spock, from a bed in sickbay, “I am, as you would put it, ‘fine.'”

“Shut up, Spock,” replied McCoy, his bewilderment over what had happened to Spock eclipsing his pleasure at being able to have the Vulcan under his thumb. “Until I find out what's wrong with you, you're not going anywhere. You collapsed on the bridge, do you call that ‘fine'?”

“My assessment was of my present condition,” said Spock, lifting his head to indicate the diagnostic screen overhead. “As to what caused my temporary collapse, I have no idea.”

“What did you feel, Spock?” Kirk asked.

“Who's the doctor here?” said McCoy to Kirk, acidly. “Well, Spock? What did you feel?”

“A momentary numbness,” said Spock, “almost a sensation of coldness in my mind, if such a description could apply to tissue which is unable to register any such sensation. Not so much pain as a sudden absence of sensation, one might say.”

“None of which is much help,” said McCoy, almost to himself.

“My apologies, Doctor,” said Spock, with every appearance of sincerity. “I assure you, this incident troubles me as much as it troubles you.”

“I'm sure it does,” said McCoy, absently. For years, Kirk knew, McCoy had harbored a dread of Spock needing medical attention of such magnitude that he would be unable to provide it. Occasions such as this brought those feelings to the surface.

“What can you do?” asked Kirk.

“I don't know if I can do anything,” replied McCoy. “He's right, all his readings are textbook, for him. It's that momentary lapse on the bridge that bothers me.”

“Wouldn't it have left some residual effect?”

“I don't know, Jim. I've gone over him with the cortical scanner, but those readings have to be compared to a cross section of readings, it's not a diagnosis that pops up in a few seconds. However—” He played a medical scanner over Spock, examining its readings thoughtfully. “—even a preliminary scan indicates that his encephalographic readings are way above his norm.”

“A telepathic attack of some kind?” asked Spock.

“We can't rule it out. Even an illogical human like me,” McCoy said, dryly, “knows better than to try to chalk what happened to you up to coincidence. Not with everything that's gone wrong the last few days.”

“Bones, you're telling me that the faction that wants the princes dead has another weapon?”

“That's my best guess, Jim. But,” he said, as Kirk opened his mouth, “I know you want more than a ‘best guess,' so give me a little time.”

“I'm not sure how much of that we have, Bones. Isn't there anything to indicate how the attack was launched? Anything to say where it might have come from, or—”

“Jim, right now there's nothing except our memories to show that Spock was ever out of commission at all. And I can't promise that I'll find anything that will, unless it occurs again.”

“Most inefficient,” murmured Spock, raising a brow.

Nurse Chapel entered. As always when Spock was present, her professional manner was at its most precise. Kirk assumed she thought that was how Spock would wish to be treated on an occasion such as this. “Mr. Spock's cortical scanner readings are being cross-referenced now, Doctor. I'll let you know as soon as they're ready.” McCoy nodded, not looking at her.

Nodding crisply, she left, her gaze at the Vulcan lingering a second longer than professionalism demanded the only clue as to her feelings for him.

“Well, Spock,” McCoy said, turning to his patient, “I'd like to keep you here for a few hours to see if anything turns up that—”

“Bridge to Captain Kirk,”
came Uhura's voice from the wall speaker.

“Kirk here.”

“Captain,”
cut in Sulu,
“we've got something here—”

“‘Something,' Sulu? What is it, a missile, that cloaked ship, or—”

“None of those, sir, it seems to be some kind of … energy storm. Our scanners can't seem to figure it out.”

“Red alert,” said Kirk. “Raise shields, and Uhura, cut off the telecast to the planet. I'll be right there. Kirk out.” He turned and faced his senior officers. “I'm going to need Spock on the bridge.”

“Captain, are you sure that is the wisest course?” asked Spock. His voice was as level as ever, but Kirk could sense another level behind his even tone. He glanced at McCoy, whose gaze confirmed that he had heard it, too.

“Why not?” asked Kirk.

“Captain, as both science officer and first officer, I must function at peak efficiency, especially during situations such as this.” He stopped, as if waiting for Kirk or McCoy to jump in. “I need not remind you that I collapsed on the bridge without warning, owing to a cause we have not ascertained. I must question your decision to place me at such a critical tactical position with these matters unresolved.”

“Spock,” said Kirk, coaxingly, “you said yourself you were fine.”

“And I currently am. But I was not, minutes ago, and I may not be, minutes or even seconds from now.”

Kirk looked at the Vulcan, uncertain what to say. He could order him to the bridge, and Spock would comply, but this wasn't a matter of testing his command. “Spock … ” he said, uncertainly.

“Spock,” said McCoy, interrupting Kirk, “the last thing I would have expected of you was malingering. I know you probably want to take a nice, long nap here, but I won't have it. The readouts say there's nothing wrong with you, and though there could be, to assume that there will be is simply … illogical.”