Star Trek: Duty, Honor, Redemption (38 page)

“Standing by. Mister Sulu, activate moorings. Stand by umbilical and gravitational support systems.”

“Aye, sir. Moorings activated. All systems standing by.”

“Admiral!” Chekov exclaimed. “This is not possible!”

“What is it, Mister Chekov?”

“Energy reading from C deck…from inside Mister Spock’s quarters.”

“Mister Chekov, I ordered Spock’s quarters sealed!” Kirk said angrily.

“Yes, sir, I sealed room myself. Nevertheless, I am reading life form there.”

“Mister Chekov,” Kirk said, his voice angry and quiet, “this entire crew seems on the edge of obsessive behavior concerning Mister Spock.” Chekov opened his mouth to protest. Kirk cut him off with a sharp gesture. “I’ll have a look. Mister Sulu, continue docking procedure.”

Kirk strode from the bridge. As the doors closed behind him, Chekov shrugged fatalistically. He saw what he saw. In an assertion of Vulcan logic that had seemed completely illogical to Chekov, Spock had always refused to lock his cabin, or even to go through the security procedures with the computer that would permit it to be locked if he chose. Vulcans never used locks. It was a matter of principle with Spock. Because of the damage to the electronic systems of the
Enterprise,
Chekov had not been able to initiate the procedures himself when Kirk ordered the cabin closed off. Instead, Chekov secured the door mechanically, that is, with an alarm, with sensors, and with a lead seal and stamp from the ship’s archives. Consequently, someone
could
have broken in.

And unless the sensors had gone completely wonky (which was also possible), apparently someone had.

Kirk strode toward Spock’s room, his temper frayed and just short of breaking. If one of the cadets had entered Spock’s room, if this was some tasteless and thoughtless practical joke—then Kirk would soon be giving someone a lesson in the uses of black humor.

An alarm was ringing softly. Kirk broke into a run, then slowed abruptly so as to come upon the intruder unaware.

At Spock’s door he stopped short. A violent force had ripped away the seal and wrenched open the door, as if an intruder of enormous strength had been too distressed, too desperate, to try any method but direct force.

Kirk touched the alarm, and it faded to silence. He squinted, but saw nothing through the darkness. He stepped cautiously forward, waiting for his eyes to become acclimated to the low light.

“Jim…help me…”

Kirk gasped. The voice was Spock’s.

“Take me up…up the steps…of Mount Seleya…through the hall of ancient thought…”

Kirk clenched his fists. His hands were shaking with anger and shock. He peered more deeply into the shadows and saw—

The indistinct form plunged toward him out of the darkness, knocking him aside. Kirk grabbed it and wrestled with it. Its strength was enormous. Somehow he got a judo hold on his opponent and wrenched him down and into submission. They both fell to the floor and into the lights from the corridor.

McCoy struggled against him.

“Bones! What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

McCoy stared at him blankly. “Help me, Jim. Take me home.” His voice rasped, totally drained of strength.

“That’s where we are, Bones,” Kirk said gently. “We are home.”

“Then…perhaps there is still time…. Climb the steps, Jim…. Climb the steps of Mount Seleya….”

“Mount Seleya? Bones, Mount Seleya is on Vulcan! We’re home! We’re on Earth!”

McCoy’s empty stare continued. Kirk loosed his hold on the doctor’s arm.

“Remember!” McCoy said.

In Spock’s unmistakable voice.

“Remember!”

Kirk knelt on the cold deck, frozen with shock.

“Admiral,” Uhura said through the intercom, “docking is completed. Starfleet Commander Morrow is on his way for inspection.”

McCoy shuddered, tried to rise, and fainted. Kirk caught him before he hit the floor.

“Uhura! Get the medics down here! Get them now!”

He held McCoy, feeling the doctor’s pulse race frantically, thready and weak.

“Bones, it’s all right,” he said. “It will be all right.”

But he wondered,
Will it? What in heaven’s name is happening to us all?

The skeleton crew of the
Enterprise
assembled in the docking chamber in preparation for Starfleet Commander Morrow’s review.

“Tetch-hut!”

The boatswain’s pipe wailed eerily, the doors slid open, and ’fleet Commander Morrow stepped on board, his aide close behind.

“Welcome aboard, Admiral.”

Morrow grasped Kirk’s shoulders. “Welcome home, Jim,” he said. He tightened his hands. “Well done.”

He embraced Kirk. The sincere affection between them was of long standing. Morrow had been Kirk’s first commanding officer. He had sponsored him for his captaincy, and again for his promotion to the general staff.

“Thank you, sir,” Kirk said, as Morrow stepped back. To break the tension he said wryly, “I take it this is not a
formal
inspection?”

A ripple of half-repressed laughter spread through the small group.

“No. At ease, everyone.” Morrow glanced around. “Where’s Doctor McCoy?”

Kirk hesitated. “Indisposed, sir.”

“Ah,” Morrow said, “too bad.” Taking the hint, he dropped the subject. “Well. You have all done remarkable service under the most…difficult…of conditions. You’ll be receiving Starfleet’s highest commendations. And more important—extended shore leave.”

The youngsters, particularly, reacted with pleased surprise and anticipation.

“That is—shore leave for everyone but you, Mister Scott. We need your wisdom on the new
Excelsior.
Report there tomorrow as Captain of Engineering.”

“Tomorrow isna possible, Admiral,” Scott said, “And forbye, with all appreciation, sir, I’d prefer to oversee the refitting of the
Enterprise.
If it’s all the same to ye, I’ll come back here.”

“I don’t think that’s wise, Mister Scott.”

“But, sir, no one knows this ship like I do. The refit will take a practiced hand. There’s much to do—” He glanced at Kirk. “It could be
months.
”

“That’s one of the problems, Mister Scott.”

“Well, I
might
be able to do i’ for ye a little quicker—”

“You simply don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Then perhaps the admiral would be so kind as to enlighten me.”

“I
can
cut you new orders to stay and oversee the
Enterprise
—” he said.

“I’d thank ye for that.”

“—but the orders would have to be for you to oversee the ship’s dismantling.”

Jim Kirk felt the blood drain from his face. He could hear exclamations of shock from the crew around him.

“I’m sorry, Mister Scott,” Morrow said. “There isn’t going to be a refit.”

“But ye canna do that!”

“Admiral, I don’t understand,” Kirk said. “The
Enterprise
—”

“Is twenty years old. Its day is over, Jim.” His sorrow was sincere, but he made no pretense that the order was anything but final. “The ship is obsolete. We kept it on as a training vessel, mainly because you insisted. But after this last trip…well, it’s clear just by looking at the ship that it’s seen its last encounter.”

“Ye’ve no e’en done an inspection!” Scott cried. “Ye canna just look at a ship and condemn it to the scrap heap! All ye need do is gi’ me the materiel I requisitioned—”

“Your requisitions have been through a thorough analysis. We gave the ship every point we could—I made sure of that. But it simply isn’t cost-effective to bring it back to optimum.”

“ ‘Cost-effective’!” Scott muttered angrily. “ ‘Optimum’! What d’ye—”

“Scotty,” Kirk said gently.

Scott opened his mouth, saw the look on Kirk’s face, closed his mouth, and resentfully subsided.

“Scotty, go on over to
Excelsior
for the time being—”

“Nay!” Scott said. “Do ye no’ understand? It isna possible!”

“Indeed?” The frost in Morrow’s single word lowered the temperature ten degrees. He was not used to having his orders questioned, much less directly refused.

“My nephew Peter is still on board the
Enterprise,
” Scott said. “His body is. I must take him home, to my sister. To his grave.”

The admiral relented. “I see. Of course, you must go to Earth. But Mister Scott, the preliminary test of the engines is urgent. You’re the best man for the job. In a day or so—”

“I canna promise. I
willna.
Some things there be that are more important than starships, and one of them is family, one of them is ties of blood.”

He hurried from the docking bay.

Kirk turned to Morrow.

“Admiral, I requested—I’d hoped to take the
Enterprise
back to Genesis.”

“Genesis!” Morrow exclaimed. “Whatever for?”

“Why—a natural desire to help finish the work we began. Doctor Marcus is certainly going to want to return—”

“It’s out of the question. No one else is going to Genesis.”

“May I ask why?”

Morrow sighed. “Jim…in your absence, Genesis has become a galactic controversy. Until the Federation Council makes policy, you are all under orders not to discuss Genesis. Consider it a quarantined planet…and a forbidden subject.”

Morrow’s expression forbade argument in general, and argument before the assembled ship’s crew in particular.

“Dismissed,” Kirk said.

Sulu broke off from the rest of the crew of the
Enterprise
before they reached the transporter room. He had no reason to return to Earth immediately, and no desire whatever for shore leave. All he wanted was to get back to
Excelsior.
He had gone on the
Enterprise
training cruise as a favor, out of courtesy to James Kirk. He should have been back on board his own ship days ago.

“Commander Sulu,” Morrow said.

Sulu turned back. “Yes, sir?”

“Where are you going?”

“To
Excelsior,
sir. I’m several days late as it is.”

“Would you come with us, instead, for the time being?”

Sulu hesitated, but Morrow had given him, however subtly, a direct order if he had ever heard one.

“If you please,” Morrow said.

“Yes, sir.” Sulu followed, trying to ward off a deep feeling of apprehension.

Morrow did not speak to him again until they had beamed back to Starfleet headquarters on Earth. The Starfleet Commander bid good-bye to Kirk and the others. Sulu waited for an explanation. When everyone else had gone, Morrow motioned to Sulu to accompany him. They went into his office, and he closed the door.

“Please sit down, Commander,” he said.

Sulu complied.

“I appreciate your patience,” Morrow said. “I have a delicate situation here that I hope you can help me out with.”

Sulu resisted the obvious invitation to offer to do anything he could.

“How much do you know about Genesis?” Morrow asked.

“I know who developed it, I know what it does. I’ve seen it work.” He knew a few of its technical details, for though he had not seen Carol Marcus’ fabled proposal tape, he hardly needed to. The ship’s grapevine had described it quite thoroughly.

“Do you know what its effect back here has been?”

“No, sir.”

“The uproar has been…well…considerable. There’s going to be a Federation inquiry, and a summit meeting. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask everyone who was on board the
Enterprise
during this recent…incident…to keep themselves available to offer testimony. This will pose no difficulties for the others. But in your case…”

Sulu saw where this was all heading. He rose in protest.

“Please sit down, Commander,” Morrow said.

“May I assume that the Admiral has already rewritten my orders?” Sulu said stiffly. He remained standing.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Permanently?”

“I sincerely hope not, Commander. In a few months, when this has all blown over…”

Sulu held back his protest. He knew that it would do no good, and furthermore that he could only humiliate himself by making it.

“So many factors are involved,” Morrow said. “The ramifications of the Genesis incident complicate matters beyond any of our expectations. But above that, our investment in
Excelsior
precludes our keeping it in its berth indefinitely. The shakedown cruise must occur as scheduled. Captain Styles will take over for you while you’re otherwise occupied.”