by Rudy Josephs
“Don’t rub it in,” Lynne suddenly snapped.
The reaction caught Kirk off guard. “It was a compliment.”
“I know, I know,” she said, somewhat apologetically. “It’s just hard for me to take it as one. Thanas gets to me with his arrogance and his fan club and his—”
Kirk moved closer. “You’ve got a fan club.”
“Thanks,” she said, but was still discouraged. “But there’s something about Thanas. He makes it all look so easy. I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I. But I don’t want to waste our time together talking about Thanas or the Academy or anything like that.” Kirk downed the last of his drink. “I’m ready for this mystery date to start.”
They both looked down at Lynne’s drink. The glass was only half empty. Or still half full, depending on the perspective. Philosophy aside, Kirk hit her with a silent challenge in his gaze.
She downed the frozen drink in one shot, slammed the empty glass onto the table, and stood up. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
All of San Francisco was laid out at Jim Kirk’s feet. The view of the city from the top of Mount Davidson was spectacular. It was one thing to see the city as he flew over it in the confines of a shuttle, but that was nothing compared to the unobstructed view from the summit. He could see everything for three-hundred-sixty degrees of perfect vista stretching out around him.
Lynne had taken him to the highest point in the city. Half the trip there was in an old-fashioned cable car. The other half they took the mag-lev monorail. “A little old, and a little new,” she’d said. They’d stopped for some sushi midway through the trip, both for nourishment and—as Kirk suspected—to build his anticipation for the main event.
Kirk had enjoyed the cable car more than he’d expected. He didn’t have much appreciation for classic vehicles anymore. His stepfather had worn that interest out of him. But experiencing the ride with Lynne had given him a fresh perspective. Watching her excitement at the sound of the clackity-clack of the machinery and the shrill ding of the bells as they rode through the streets filled him with his own joy. And maybe a little something else.
Monica Lynne was a fascinating mixture between a jaded realist and a wishful dreamer. The latter side of her personality hadn’t come out much before tonight. And now, she had devised the perfect capper to their evening as they stood at the summit, looking out at the modern city that surrounded them.
The lights on the streets and from the buildings glowed and pulsed, sparkling in the night sky. From their vantage point, they could see all the way out to the darkness of the Pacific Ocean that lay beyond.
She’d picked a good night to take him there. The sky was clear. The breeze was light. They were entirely alone at the top of their world. Kirk draped his arm across her shoulders as they looked down the steep hill before them. “You will now officially be planning all future dates.”
She twirled herself out of his embrace. “What makes you think we’re going to have future dates? That’s something you have to earn.”
“By beating you to the bottom?”
“You know it.” Lynne took off toward the road, running full out.
Kirk was right behind her, the lightweight hoverboard she’d brought with them tucked carefully beneath his arm. She’d hidden a bag with the hostess at the restaurant. It was a rather large bag and the first big surprise of the night. She didn’t reveal the contents—two ultralight hoverboards for street luging, along with the proper pads—until they got to their destination.
Lynne and Kirk reached the crest of the hill at the same time. They slid their boards onto the street and hopped on, lying back only millimeters from the ground. Hoverluge was perfectly safe and legal—on a closed course in the daytime.
On open road at night was another matter.
Kirk didn’t care about the danger as the wind whipped past. He looked up at the stars. The street rushed beneath him with increasing speed. He wanted to get lost in those stars, with Lynne beside him, floating on air. But that would be a little too risky. They were coming to the first turn.
Kirk banked right, rolling into the turn. Hoverluge boards didn’t have useless things like controls for turning or stopping. It was all done by the fluid motion of the driver’s body. Kirk had limited experience with hoverluge; enough to keep him safe. He wasn’t so sure it was enough to win a race against Lynne.
Coming out of the first turn, she used the angle to her advantage, picking up speed and pulling ahead. Kirk could only watch as she dusted him. There were few options for picking up speed on the straight-aways.
Luckily the course she’d chosen was full of twists and turns. A series of tight corners followed, giving Kirk the chance to cut the distance between them. It was hard to see on those dark streets. Harder still when they hit a patch that was heavily lined with trees that blocked the light of the rising moon.
Visibility increased dramatically when they reached the residential area and gained streetlamps.
And traffic.
Kirk and Lynne weaved in and around vehicles that were cautiously driving at the speed limit. Their luges traveled considerably faster, whipping past drivers who honked at them as they went.
Lynne let out a joyous whoop. Kirk joined her with his own shout. This was free and exciting. Without the rules and structure of their Academy classes.
The freedom was regrettably short-lived when they heard the police sirens heading in their direction. One of the drivers must have called it in. It was always possible that the officers were heading off to some real emergency. The odds were slim that they were going after a pair of hoverlugers.
The odds got considerably bigger when the police cruisers turned a corner and pulled up behind them. Still, they were going to have to move a lot faster if they wanted to keep up with the speeds Kirk and Lynne were moving.
Lynne let out an expletive as they continued down the steep hill, causing Kirk to laugh. He hadn’t been in a good police chase in a while. Of course, that wouldn’t look good on their records at the Academy. Kirk didn’t much care about that, but he knew Lynne did.
That was probably the only excuse for her going off road and cutting through a private yard.
Kirk banked left at the next available spot, running parallel to her through the yards and neighborhoods of Mount Davidson. He caught glimpses of Lynne with each street they crossed, but didn’t see any opportunity to get back in line with her until they reached a road that turned into a cul-de-sac.
They nearly collided when they both went for the single opening between houses. The sirens grew distant, making this a much shorter police chase than the ones he’d been in during his youth.
But the ride wasn’t over yet.
Kirk leaned back on the luge, attempting to slow it down so he could safely bring it to a stop. But Lynne kept going. They’d pulled back onto a street, but she clearly wasn’t planning on getting off that luge until she was sure the police were a comfortable distance away.
He let up on the board, picking up speed to keep up with her. She wasn’t racing now. She was fleeing. With fleeing, there was a certain amount of panic in the way she took the turns without slowing down.
“Monica!” Kirk pushed his luge forward, banking on the turns to bring himself to dangerous speeds. He had to get her to slow down before she did something rash.
Or more rash.
Kirk pulled up behind her. “Monica! Stop!”
“No way!” she called back. “You’re not going to win that easily.”
Kirk had no illusion that she cared about winning anymore. He also didn’t think she noticed the impossibly tight turn at the bottom of the hill that ended in a concrete wall.
“Monica!”
Kirk angled his body as best he could to speed up. To find some way to stop her. But Lynne would not be stopped. To make things worse, the sirens were getting louder again.
Kirk could only watch from his luge as she approached the wall at an impossible speed. He
had to slow himself or else they’d both hit it.
There was no way she could stop now. But she wasn’t even slowing down. She had to see the wall. Only a few meters until she hit.
Lynne banked right suddenly. The hoverluge skipped off the curb, sending her into the air. She and the luge went flying higher. Up to the wall. She cleared it by centimeters. The luge was not as lucky. It smashed into concrete.
Kirk wanted to yell her name, but the police sirens were on the next block. He didn’t want to give his location away.
All he could do was lean back onto the luge, dropping his speed and pulling into a skidding stop. It wasn’t the recommended way to stop a hoverluge, but it accomplished the goal.
Kirk sprung off the board and ran to the wall. He didn’t want to see what it looked like on the other side, but he had to know Monica’s fate.
Just as he was about to climb the wall, Lynne’s head appeared, peeking over the top. She had a huge grin on her face, and looked none the worse for wear.
“I won,” she said.
Kirk wanted to yell at her for being crazy. He wanted to ask her how in the galaxy she survived that. How she made the jump.
But when she leaned over the wall with her face so close to his, all he did was kiss her.
Then they grabbed their boards and got out of there before the cops arrived.
Spock was sitting in Captain Warde’s office when she arrived the following morning with a travel mug in hand. The sweet scent of masala chai accompanied her into the room. She sat behind her desk, placing her PADD down beside her tea.
He had assumed it would be best to start their day by apologizing for his failure at eliciting any information from Cadet Thanas. He had sent her the details of his meeting the prior evening, but had not spoken about it with her in person yet.
Captain Warde did not bother to act like his results had been a surprise. “I suspected as much. I’ve asked his instructors to keep an eye on him. It could be a coincidence that both of our victims associated with Thanas, but I don’t like coincidence. Don’t worry about it, Spock.”
“I assure you, Captain, I am not worried,” Spock said.
The captain smiled. “I understand. What I meant to say was that your report meets my expectations.”
Spock suspected that there was some underlying disappointment in that sentence. Possibly an “I told you so” element as well. Not an intentional one, of course. Nothing Captain Warde would ever say directly to him. But Spock was not accustomed to people expecting him to fail at a task.
“Has Cadet Andros regained consciousness?” Spock asked. In light of the lack of evidence, the information she possessed would be the most useful source for shedding light on the events.
“She’s still under sedation,” Warde replied. “Dr. Griffin felt it best, considering the processes her body will undergo to purge the foreign elements from her system. She should be alert by tomorrow.”
“Then we should have our answers in time,” Spock noted.
Warde took a sip of her tea. “Don’t be so sure. Andros knows that she’s going to be expelled. We have a zero tolerance policy on performance enhancement here. It’s part of the honor code. There’s no wiggle room on this one. So we have nothing to offer her in exchange for the information.”
“We could imply that she be included in any charges that we bring upon the doctor that performed the surgery. Those could potentially include murder in light of Cadet Jackson.”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to victimize the victim. She’s already suffering enough. It’s possible that she’ll convince herself to tell us the truth, but I’d prefer to focus on other avenues. A lot can happen in twenty-four hours. I’d like to have the case wrapped by the time she can safely be brought around.”
“A logical precaution.”
“Tell me what you did learn from Thanas,” Captain Warde said. “It’s possible you missed something.”
“Doubtful,” Spock said. “But I wrote up a transcript of our conversation for your review. I sent it to you last night.”
She tapped the PADD awake. “Yes, I read it when it came in. I’m sure it’s an accurate representation of what was said. But I’d like to hear your observations. Much of investigating is not about what is said, but what we can extrapolate from what we see and hear.”
Spock could understand the logic behind her question, but he had noted all of his observations in the official report. It seemed unlikely that he could provide any information to expand on his account, but he was not about to shut down any line of inquiry.
“As I noted,” he began, “Cadet Thanas was entertaining a female cadet when I came to the door.”
“Yes,” Warde said. “He does seem to get around.”
Spock nodded. “The interruption clearly bothered him, but the ruse of collecting Cadet Jackson’s personal belongings was sufficient to get me into the room.”
“At which time his lady friend left,” Warde said with a tap on the PADD.
“Precisely.” Spock recited his report almost verbatim, growing more unsure of this line of examination with each passing moment. Captain Warde interrupted several times to ask questions about Thanas’s responses and demeanor, but nothing that shed any light on the events. Once he wrapped his review, Captain Warde sat in silence for almost a minute.
After another sip of tea, she asked, “What was Cadet Thanas doing when he wasn’t helping you pack Jackson’s things?”
“Lying in his bed, throwing a tennis ball up into the air.”
The captain pursed her lips. “Interesting.”
Spock failed to see what was interesting about the action at all, and said as much.
“He was sending you a message,” Warde said. “That he didn’t care about you enough to give you his attention. Incredibly disrespectful from a cadet.”
“True,” Spock agreed. He still didn’t see the point.
“We’ve already established that this cadet is particularly obnoxious,” she went on. “It could be nothing at all. But sometimes, the guilty tend to react in a way that challenges authority. To come across like they have nothing to hide, ‘playing it cool,’ so to speak. It’s possible that’s what he was doing.”
“I do not know that we can assume that in hindsight.”
“No,” she agreed, again with the tone of disappointment in her voice. “But I’ll tell you what would have been interesting. I would love to know what he’d have done if you snapped that tennis ball right out of the air.” The captain leaned back in her seat, contemplating the possibilities.
She had totally lost Spock with that last comment. He did not understand what Thanas’s reaction to an arbitrary action would indicate.
Spock was beginning to feel like he was not the best person to have on this investigation. At the very least, it was clear that he could not function in the manner that Captain Warde most needed him to serve. Spock was left to continue that line of thought while Captain Warde answered a call on her communicator. Her presence was requested at Starfleet Medical.
Warde dismissed Spock as she rose from her chair, and they walked out of her office together. “Admiral Bennett has called a special assembly to announce the news of Cadet Jackson’s death. Keep an eye on Thanas’s reactions if you can, while the admiral is speaking.”
“I am not certain what you want me to look for exactly.”
“Well, there’s some time before the assembly,” she said. “Think it over.”
Spock wasn’t sure what she meant by that suggestion, but he had an idea of his own. He didn’t know that they would have clearance for it, but he suggested the idea to the captain. He would need her permission.
Captain Warde stopped in the hall as they reached the turbo lift. “A practical solution,” she said in response to his query. “But I’d like to offer one additional accommodation.”
Spock heard her out, surprised that she would allow him to do what she was suggesting, but pleased that the investigation would n
o longer rest entirely on his shoulders.
Uhura spent more time in the observation deck than her quarters. It was an isolated way to live her life, but it was the only way she saw herself getting through the Academy—at least for the next few months. She definitely could not focus when Gaila was around. Her roommate was a complete ball of hormones when guys were in the vicinity. The rest of the campus was filled with distractions as well.
Here she could concentrate solely on her work without letting anything else intrude on her thoughts. Well, almost anything.
Karin Andros occupied much of Uhura’s thoughts at the moment. They’d never been quite friends, but seeing her convulsing the day before had been scary.
That, naturally, turned her thoughts to Jackson, another acquaintance she never had the chance to know. He was a nice guy. So much nicer than his roommate, Thanas. She’d doubted that he was going to make it through the Academy, but she’d anticipated becoming friends with him. Hearing that he’d died in his sleep like that had been such a shock.
What is it about this incoming class of freshmen? Do we just not cut it?
She took a bite from the breakfast she’d picked up at the mess hall. No more eating on the run for her. She was going to have three square meals a day and make sure her body stayed healthy. She’d just have those meals in the observation deck while she studied.
If she could stop her mind from wandering.
It was the other person in her thoughts that had become the greatest distraction. Would Commander Spock come back? It seemed unlikely once his office was environmentally comfortable again.
She received the answer to that question when the door opened and she found her instructor standing on the threshold. His eyes took the briefest of moments to search the empty room, easily falling on her, the sole occupant. Uhura gave him a shy smile as he entered. She’d expected him to silently take his position on the opposite end of the window ledge, but he crossed the large space, heading straight for her.