“Hard to tell. Dr. McCoy is being somewhat closemouthed about the prospects.”
“Undoubtedly because he does not know,” Spock said with some acerbity. “I shall return to the ship,” he suddenly announced. “If Mr. Maslin is unable to continue his work we will have to make alternative plans.”
“Do we have any, Spock?” Kirk asked wearily. “We’ve been working on this for days, and are no closer to a solution than when we started.”
“We have made some progress.”
“But none of it relates to the phenomenon, and that beast isn’t likely to give us the luxury of a second chance.”
“We will discuss this further when I return to the ship. Perhaps I was mistaken in assuming that the phenomenon and the Taygetians were somehow linked.”
“I hope not, Mr. Spock, because that would leave us without any theory to work from.”
Kirk lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling while he waited for Spock to arrive. The phenomenon had begun to take on a mocking, almost human persona for Kirk, and he didn’t like it one bit. Here he was, James Tiberius Kirk, captain of the starship Enterprise, the finest ship in the fleet. He, together with his crew, had quickly and efficiently solved every assignment that had come their way. Until now. This time they were up against something that defied some of the best minds in the Federation. Kirk wondered if he ought to call Star Fleet, and yell for help.
That thought was so abhorrent that he swung off the bed and began agitatedly to pace his quarters. He had never had to ask for help, and he couldn’t stand the thought of it now. Also, on a less personal and egotistical level, there was the very real chance that the phenomenon wouldn’t give them time for reinforcements to arrive. Each day brought it closer and closer to the Taygetian sun, and if it destroyed that life-sustaining star all those happy, frolicking cubs and their mysterious elders would be swept into oblivion.
This was one of those times when the mantle of command lay heavy on his shoulders. He wished he could cast it aside, and stop being responsible for his crew, the Federation, the galaxy; but he knew he never would. He was a starship captain, and having tasted that power he would never willingly give it up.
Kor understood. They had touched on the subtle opiate of command that day after the capture of the hunters when they had shared a bottle of Saurian brandy and reminiscences culled from years of galaxy-spanning explorations.
Kirk had enjoyed that afternoon. It wasn’t often that a captain could confide in anyone, and even rarer was an opportunity to talk to a person in a similar position. There was no doubt that command was lonely. For an instant Kirk envied Kor his bride, and wondered if such a partnership setup could work in Star Fleet. He then shook his head, and dismissed the notion. He wasn’t ready for any sort of commitment, no matter how lovely and talented the lady. The Enterprise was all the lady he wanted, and he couldn’t picture her sharing him with a mere human woman.
The page chimed, and Spock stepped into the room. “I stopped by sick bay before joining you, and Dr. McCoy said that early indications look good. Maslin seems to be responding to the cordrazine.”
“Good, but I’d like it better if we can find some way to continue without him,” Kirk said over his shoulder as he pulled a fresh uniform out of the dresser, and began to dress. “I did pull the man out here against his will. I’d prefer not to bring him back in a box.”
“I have been considering the possibility of transmatrix scans—”
The Vulcan was interrupted by the whistle of the communicator. Kirk crossed to the table and switched on the com. Sulu’s face looked seriously out at him.
“Captain, the phenomenon has reached the innermost planet of the solar system. I thought you might like to observe its effect on a relatively large body.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sulu, I would. Mr. Spock and I will join you momentarily.”
The bridge was very quiet when they arrived. Scotty had wandered up from engineering, and everyone had abandoned his panel to watch the sight on the main screen. Spock moved quickly to his science station, and Lieutenant Mendez scrambled to get out of his way. Taking his seat, he began a running commentary on the planetary readings.
“Mean distance from the sun—60.3 kilometers; equatorial diameter—5023 kilometers; mass—0.069.”
The gaudy colors of the phenomenon writhed forward, its outermost tendrils just brushing the pockmarked, cindery surface of the inner planet. The planet seemed to waver, becoming almost transparent, and then it vanished from view as the space/time rip enveloped it.
Spock swung about in his chair and looked at Kirk. “All readings have ceased. Scanners show only the meaningless readings associated with the phenomenon. For all intents and purposes the planet no longer exists.”
“But where has it gone, Mr. Spock?” Scotty murmured.
“Into wherever that,” he pointed at the aurora that danced and sparkled across the screen, “leads.”
There was a whistle from the communications station, and T’zeela immediately answered the summons. Kor’s face replaced the disquieting phenomenon on the main screen.
“Did you see that, Kirk?”
“I saw it.”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?”
“Commander, I’m open to any suggestions at this point.”
“Sorry, I’m out of suggestions.”
Kirk looked over at Spock and gave a miserable shrug. “Then I guess we just keep doing what we’ve been doing—only harder.”
McCoy stood with his back to Kirk and Spock, staring stiffly at the glass cabinet in his office. The captain had finished speaking several moments ago, and silence hung like a pall in the room. McCoy suddenly whirled to face them, and his normally kindly blue eyes were hard and flat. He shook his head, his mouth twisting with disgust.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Well, I’m going to call Uhura, maybe she’ll be able to reach you. You sure as hell haven’t listened to a thing I’ve said.”
“No! Don’t do that,” Kirk said, catching McCoy by the wrist before he could touch the com.
“What’s the matter? Are you ashamed of what you’re doing? Don’t want to face Uhura? Well, I’d be ashamed too if I had made such a callous suggestion.”
“The captain is not being callous, he is merely being logical. We are weighing one man’s life against the possible destruction of millions. There can be no hesitation.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Spock, but I’ve never been much of an advocate of Jeremy Benthem. It’s damn easy to say that a few ought to suffer for the good of the many when you’re not among those few.”
“I would not be swayed by such considerations, Doctor. I would always do my duty.”
“You would choose to do your duty,” McCoy said, thrusting a finger at Spock. “That’s a completely different situation from this one. Mr. Maslin is not making a free choice, he is being coerced.”
“Then you think I was wrong to bring him, Bones? At the time we made the decision you seemed to approve.”
“That was then—this is now. The man is now my patient, and he’s ill. I’ll not willingly have him sent back to that planet.”
“None of us wants to do it, but we just don’t have any choice,” Kirk said.
“You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said!” McCoy shouted furiously, and flipped open the com.
“Communications.” Uhura’s voice came softly over the com.
“Uhura, this is McCoy. Get down to my office right away.”
“Guy?” she said, and her voice was breathless with fear.
“No, no, he’s fine. At least for now,” he added with a look to the captain and first officer.
“On my way.”
The door slid shut behind her, and she looked questioningly at the three grim-faced men. McCoy put an arm around her waist, and guided her to a chair. He then looked challengingly at Kirk. “Okay, tell her.”
“Tell me what?”
“Uhura, we need Maslin, need his e
xpertise. Dr. McCoy says he is doing better, and I want both of you to return to the surface of the planet.”
“You can’t approve of this,” she said to McCoy.
“I don’t. That’s why I brought you down here. I want you to talk some sense into them.”
She looked pointedly from her lieutenant’s braid to the multiple lines of braid that adorned the sleeves of the men. McCoy gave his head an impatient shake. “Just forget rank, and speak out.”
“Have I your permission, sir?” she asked Kirk. He nodded. She drew in a quick breath, and began. “You can’t do this, sir. The man cannot survive another flare of the disease.”
“And the galaxy can’t survive the space/time warp,” Kirk said gently. “It’s growing, Lieutenant, and destroying everything in its path.”
“But Guy’s tried, and he hasn’t been able to break the Taygetian language! Sending him back down there to try again can only result in his death, and for what?”
“Uhura,” Kirk said, moving in and taking her hand in his. “He’s our only hope.”
“And he’s my only hope too!” she cried, leaping out of her chair, and pulling her hand away from him. She then turned away, and covered her face with one hand. She was appalled at what she had said—appalled at the truth in it. Dreams of a captaincy, fame, glory, rank, all shriveled and vanished before her love for Maslin. Somehow, by not expressing it, she had managed to hold the emotion at bay, but now that feeble defense was gone.
She turned slowly back to face the men. “Captain, I am tendering my resignation. I will not return to Taygeta, nor will I permit Mr. Maslin to return. Now, if you will excuse me I shall be in my quarters.”
The door whispered shut behind her, and Kirk looked glumly up into McCoy’s startled face. “Congratulations, Doctor. Is that what you had in mind? Now I have neither resident expert nor communications officer.”
McCoy’s face took on an expression of mulish obstinacy. “I think it’s about time we stopped being so God-damned selfish aboard this ship, and realized that people have a right to a life of their own. Uhura loves this man, and I think we ought to be giving her our support and our congratulations—not making her feel bad for choosing something beyond Star Fleet.”
“A touching and emotional outburst, Doctor,” Spock said dryly. “But it is highly likely that none of us will have a future if we do not find a way to remove that space/time rip. I suggest you think on that,” the Vulcan concluded as he walked through the doors of the sick bay.
Kirk gave McCoy an inquiring glance, but the doctor had nothing more to say.
Chapter Ten
He was out of bed, and standing half-dressed at the table feverishly scrolling pages across the reader’s screen.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Uhura asked from the doorway.
“I just had an idea, and I was checking out the theory. If I’m right I ought to be able to—”
“No,” she said bluntly and, striding across the room, snapped off the reader. “It’s over. You’re finished … I’m finished.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“They were ready to send you back down to the planet—”
“Well, of course I’m going back to the planet. How else can I complete my work?”
“Your work? Why all this sudden identification with the military-industrial complex? I thought you were here under protest.”
He grinned sheepishly at her. “Okay, so I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you’ve convinced me that there are some things that are worth a little self-sacrifice.”
“We’re not talking about a little sacrifice, we’re talking about the possible loss of your life! And while we’re on the subject of change, let’s consider this one—I just resigned. How’s that for a little change?”
He sank down onto a chair, and stared incredulously up at her. “You did what?”
“You heard me.”
“But why?”
“Oh no,” she said with an ironic laugh and a shake of her head. “You’re not going to get me on that one. If you can’t figure it out then I’ll leave it to your imagination, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to pander to your ego by explaining what ought to be self-evident. I may not have enough pride to stay away from you, but I do have enough to keep from crawling to you.” She turned away, and stood hunched over the dresser, her hands balled into tight fists on the hard metal surface.
He crossed to her and, taking her hands in his, gently loosened her clenched fingers. “Come here,” he said, leading her to the bed, and pulling her down to sit next to him. “We have to talk.”
“This sounds bad. Are you about to give me my walking papers?”
“No, hardly. I’m overwhelmed and honored that you want to be with me, especially since you’ve seen me in all of my possible moods, most of which aren’t pleasant. If you can put up with me you’re a stronger woman than I thought, and certainly more than I deserve. But that’s for the future,” he said with a dismissing gesture. “And we can’t get there without living through the present. Uhura, I have to go back to Taygeta, and not just because your captain wants me to. Unless we solve this puzzle the Taygetians are going to die, and I won’t willingly see that music pass from the galaxy. They deserve a life just as much as we do, and I couldn’t be happy,” he paused to touch her cheek, “even with you at my side, if I knew I hadn’t made every effort to save them.”
“But you might die,” she said in a voice so low that he had to strain to hear her.
“I might, but I don’t think I will. I’m feeling much better, and I think we’re right on the verge of a breakthrough. Please, stick with me on this one, Uhura,” he pleaded.
She sighed and shook her head. “How could I not? One way or the other I’m committed to you—even when you’re stupid.”
“That’s my lady. Now go tell the captain that you overreacted, and let’s get back to work.”
“I’m going to look like an idiot; and worse, I’ve wasted one of the great exit lines of all time. I’ll never be able to use the threat of resignation again with Kirk.”
“You didn’t really want to do it anyway,” Maslin said as he continued dressing. “You only did it because you were trying to keep my puny body from the ravages of overwork.”
“Yes, and look how well I succeeded,” she said from the door. She started to leave, then paused and looked back. “It doesn’t bother you anymore that I’m in the service?”
“I suppose a man can get used to anything,” he teased, and blew her a kiss. She made a face at him, and left. She was certain that Kirk would be delighted with the news of her and Maslin’s return. As for herself, she couldn’t shake a strong sense of foreboding, and somehow that didn’t seem right on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life.
“It looks bad for the home team, Scotty,” Kirk murmured as he and his chief engineer peered through a chevron mirror arrangement into the guts of the Enterprise’s matter/antimatter chamber.
No human could look directly into the hellish glare created by the mixing of matter and antimatter, so a series of angled mirrors filtered out the worst of the light, and gave them visual access to the implosion chamber. There was a steady, quiet glow from the engines, but that was not what was concerning Kirk. What alarmed him, and was beginning to tighten a band of pain around his temples, were the obvious cracks and buckles in the dilithium crystals.
“Aye,” Scotty agreed, then glanced over at the captain, and there was a suppressed excitement in his brown eyes. “But … I think I have the answer.”
“Well, dear God, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“Because I wanted ye to see just how far the crystals had deteriorated so ye won’t fight me when I tell ye what we have to do to preserve them.”
“I take it I’m not going to like this.”
“You’re not going to like it,” Scotty verified, and led him back into the main engineering room. “You see, I couldn’t think of any exp
lanation for the deterioration. I then remembered how a soprano can shatter a glass by producing certain sonic vibrations that are echoes within the fabric of the glass. There seemed to be a resemblance between that phenomenon, and what was happening to the crystals. I had Mendez start a scan on all frequencies, and this is what she found.”
He sat the captain before the main control panel, and switched on a speaker. A strange, deep-throated harmonic began to pulse through the room. Kirk felt as if his bones were beginning to vibrate in sympathetic resonance, and his mind was filled with almost hallucinatory visions of galaxies spinning away into the vastness of space, great suns shuddering in death as huge novas sent the stuff of the stars back out into the universe to coalesce once more into the dust clouds that would be the birthplace of stars and planets. Scott switched off the speaker, and Kirk staggered a bit as the onslaught of sound vanished.
“What in hell was that?”
“It’s a harmonic that’s vibrating through subspace. It sets up a sympathetic reaction in the dilithium crystals, and causes them to crack.” Scott shrugged. “You felt what it can do to living flesh—imagine what happens to fragile crystal.”
“So what’s causing the harmonic?”
“That I don’t know. In fact, I can’t even pinpoint where it’s coming from.”
“The Klingons?” Kirk suggested.
Scotty shook his head, a quick, negating little gesture. “No, I don’t think so. Mendez has been monitoring their ships, and she’s noticed that they’ve been cutting back on power just like we have. Whatever is causing this, it’s affecting them too. It occurred to me it might have something to do with the Taygetians.” He shrugged. “But I have no proof.”
“Have you told Spock about this latest development?”
“Not yet.”
“Then do so, and let’s get him on it right away.”
“Aye, sir. Oh, Captain,” the engineer called, stopping Kirk before he could reach the door. “We still have to discuss how to preserve the crystals.”
“Oh, right. Well, what is your suggestion, Mr. Scott?”
“Pull back, sir. I think all of this is linked to that phenomenon. The farther we are from it the less deterioration to the crystals.”
The Tears of the Singers Page 16