by L. A. Graf
Taylor heaved an impatient sigh, but didn't look away from Chekov. "This
isn't really your concern, Dr. McCoy."
"No," the doctor readily agreed, "but it is my sickbay, and I can assure
you my efficiency is not being improved by you two standing here barking
at each other." He deposited his medical scanner on Kelly's chest,
admonishing the auditor against moving with a finger shake Chekov
recognized all too well. "Let's see if you can't make yourselves useful.
Taylor!" He waved the taller man toward the door, brow furrowed with a
savage frown. 'Tm still trying to get
my hands on the rest of your auditing team for a radiation exam. Now,
unless you want your entire party to drop dead at your feet, I suggest
you see what you can do about getting them in here."
Taylor bristled at the doctor's tone. "Lieutenant Purviance is the
liason officer. Let him find them."
Purviance actually managed a wry little smile. "I'm the liaison
officer, but you're the man in charge. I suggest you do as the doctor
says and get out of here."
"You heard him," the doctor said with a smile. "Get!" When the auditor
finally gave up posturing and headed for the exit, McCoy said more
quietly to Chekov, "I need to see that second-in-command of yours, too.
Lemieux tells me he was on the bridge during that radiation surge, and I
want to check everyone who was on the upper decks just to make sure
there won't be any problems."
Chekov nodded, only half-listening, and watched Taylor hesitate again at
the door before finally taking his leave. Don't worry, he wanted to
tell the man, I'm sure we'll talk about this again later. He wasn't
looking
forward to the discussion.
"Lieutenant Chekov?"
Blinking his attention back to the moment, he looked around to find
Purviance studying him in that quiet, professional way that only the
best career Starfleet people seemed to have. Chekov glanced across the
room at McCoy and Kelly, just to have somewhere else to look.
"Nobody in his right mind could look at the way Captain Kirk runs this
ship and think there's anything wrong," Purviance said, too quietly even
for McCoy or Kelly to hear. "From what I can tell, security's every bit
as good as a man like Kirk deserves." He dropped a hand on the
lieutenant's shoulder with a
surprisingly fatherly smile. "I suggest you just do your job. Let
idiots like Taylor take care of themselves."
Easier said than done when this particular idiot controlled an audit
sheet that might mean the dismantling of his department. "How can you
work with him?" Chekov asked. ,'Knowing what he plans to do to this
ship, how can you stand to be his liaison?"
Purviance considered a moment, his pale brown eyes turning inward for a
moment of thought. "I like to think I have a higher purpose for being
here," he said. Then, flashing Chekov an ironic grin "People like John
Taylor are just the price of doing business."
It wasn't much of a comfort, but Chekov appreciated the thought. "I'll
try to keep that in mind." Turning, he caught McCoy's attention from
across the room, and called, "Contact security for an escort whenever
Mr. Kelly's finished."
"An escort?" Kelly lifted his head in mild alarm, peeking around McCoy's
arm. "To where?"
"The brig." When the auditor only squeaked in reply, Chekov explained,
very patiently, "Under Starfleet regulations, Mr. Kelly, setting off a
security alert without due cause is a criminal offense. You
understand."
Purviance laughed aloud.
"But I'm not a Starfleet officer!" Kelly called to Chekov's retreating
back.
"I know." Chekov paused in the doorway only long enough to turn and
smile thinly. "And that's the only reason I'm not going to court
martial you."
Chapter Six
SULU SIGHED IN RELIEF, hearing the turbolift begin its distinctive
whistling drop from the bridge down to crew's quarters. He rubbed a
hand across the tense muscles at the back of his neck, then glanced over
at Uhura, Bhutto, and Howard. All his shift-mates looked as exhausted
as he felt. Starting the day with a crisis always had that effect.
"I think I need more shore leave," the helmsman said.
Ensign Howard's face lit with a tired smile. "We almost had some, sir.
If you hadn't noticed the helm damage from that radiation pulse--"
"--we'd be back on Sigma One right now." Sulu smacked a hand against his
forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you were too busy spotting invisible nebulas," retorted Bhutto.
The turbolift sang itself to a
stop at Deck Five, and she stepped out. "See you guys at supper."
"Right." The turbolift doo?s hissed shut, but for a long moment nothing
happened. Uhura glanced up at the monitor panel in surprise. "Deck
Six," she reminded it.
The computer chimed acknowledgment of her command, but it took another
long moment of silence before the turbolift whistled to life again,
resuming its downward journey.
"That's odd," Sulu commented. "I wonder what caused that delay."
The tall security guard shrugged. "It happens on space stations all the
time--the computer programs too many lifts into one shaft, and some of
them have to wait."
"But the Enterprise has never had that problem." Uhura's gaze met
Sulu's, the same suspicion flitting into both of them. "I hope those
Federation auditors aren't trying to improve the efficiency of our lift
systems."
Sulu chuckled. "Mr. Scott will weld their cabin doors shut if they
are." The turbolift doors slid open again, this time on the familiar
curve of their own corridor. "Remind your boss he's eating supper with
us tonight, Ensign," Sulu told Howard as they stepped out.
"Aye-aye, sir."
Uhura gave him an amused look as the turbolift closed behind them. "With
all the emergencies we've had on board today, do you really think
Chekov's going to take time to eat supper with us?"
"Hey, it never hurts to try." Sulu walked down the hall with her,
pausing to punch his access code into his
cabin door. "One day, that boy's going to wake up and realize he needs
a social life. After all, he'st"
His cabin door slid open, abruptly slicing off Sulu's voice. Smashed
plants, scattered clothes, and broken shards of Iotian crystal trailed a
tornado-erratic path from the cabin door to his worktable. The sweet,
wet smell of crushed leaves drifted out from the destruction.
"Sulu?" Uhura's voice from outside made the helmsman start. "What's
wrong?"
He resisted an urge to keep her from seeing the extent of the chaos.
That was always his first instinct in a crisistseal off the damage,
emotional or physical, so no one else could get hurt by it. Fortunately,
the years he'd spent working with Uhura had taught him that her delicate
exterior masked a woman who could handle a crisis better than most
galactic diplomats.
He sighed and stepped aside to give her a clear view of the debris.
"Somebody wr
ecked my room," he said unnecessarily.
"Oh, my God!" Uhura followed him in, her coffee-dark eyes widening in
shock. Dirt carpeted most of the floor, with uprooted plants and
tumbled shelves scattered across it. Uhura knelt to rescue a small
violet fern, half-buried under its potting soil. "Is anything missing?"
Sulu sighed and squatted down beside her, finding the fern's pot and
scooping in some soil for her to slide the bare root stem into. The
small bud tha t had been about to cud into feathery blossom now dangled
on a broken stem. He plucked it off with gentle fingers.
"Actually," he said, glancing around, "it's kind of hard to tell. The
only thing I know is, the water chameleons are gone."
Uhura scanned the room in dismay. "Are you sure they're not just
hiding?"
"If they are, they're not making any noise."
"But they don't when they're scared." The communications officer picked
her way gingerly through the trail of debris, patting at the rumpled
clothes to feel for lizard-sized lumps. "They could be anywhere."
Sulu looked at the trail of crushed plants the intruder had left through
the room and winced. "Oh, God, I hope not--"
The door to his quarters buzzed, bringing him to his feet in a nervous
surge. Fortunately, Sulu was still dose enough to the wall to trigger
the release without having to step on any chameleons. Chekov stepped
in, his eyebrows climbing when he saw the scattered wreckage. "Shto
bardachnaya dyela.t" His gaze swung around to snag on the helmsman.
"What happened?"
"What does it look like?" It was amazing how often you had to restate
the obvious in a situation like this, Sulu thought wryly. "Someone
demolished my room."
Chekov scowled at him. "While you were here?"
"Of course not!" Sulu said'indignantly. "Do you think I would have let
it happen if I were here? And watch where you're walking--you might
step on one of the water chameleons."
"I doubt it," Chekov said, "since they're still in my cabin." He colored
under the force of their astonished looks. "I just thought someone
should keep an eye on them, that's all."
"Well, that's one mystery solved." Sulu picked up one of his favorite
plants, a pale red ginger palm, and carefully tamped the soil in around
it to hold it straight. Somehow, knowing the little lizards were all
right had lifted his spirits enough that he could actually undo some of
the damage, not just survey it. "I guess that's why you're the security
officer, and I'm the pilot. Now, if you can find out who threw all my
plants on the floor, I'll owe you a supper back at Sigma One."
Chekov's cheeks turned darker red. "I didn't throw them on the floor,"
he said stiffly. "I put them there, very carefully."
Uhura looked up from gathering shirts over her arm. "You put them
there?"
"Well, there wasn't enough room for the swimming pool, otherwise."
Chekov gestured at the marble lily pond, now upside down and embedded in
a heap of spilled potting soil. "And I didn't know where Sulu wanted
it."
Sulu gave him a skeptical look. "So you threw some dirt down on the
floor to set it on?"
Chekov snorted. "No, your visitor did that. I left it on the end of
the worktable."
"Well, that's good to know. I was wondering why you left it upside
down." Despite himself, Sulu felt a grin surface through his distress.
It was impossible for him to resist teasing Chekov. "I figured even you
would know the water would run out of it that way."
The Russian gave him an exasperated look. "Do you want me to help you
with this or not?"
"Sorry." Sulu went back to picking up plants while Chekov examined the
trail of debris, tracing it backward toward the door. He paused there,
tapping some sort of security clearance into the locking mechanism and
watching it flicker with color-coded information.
"So, Sulu," he said absently, "when did you leave your door open today?"
Sulu cursed as his fingers tightened a little too hard
on a Denebian lemon cactus. "I didn't! I locked the door when I left
for my shift on the bridge, and I didn't come back until just now, when
I found the place like this." He pointed an accusing finger at his
friend. "If anyone left the room unlocked, it was you."
Chekov's dark hair ruffled with the vehemence of his headshake. "No, I
locked it when I left. Trust me."
Uhura threw Sulu a reproving look as she hung clothes back in his wall
closet. "Security guards don't tend to forget things like that," she
reminded him.
"I know." Sulu let his irritation drift out with his sigh. He picked up
a pot of half-wilted star orchids and put them back on the table to be
watered. "Someone must have broken the door code."
"Impossible," Chekov said curtly. "The locking unit in your door is
designed to keep anyone from using random codes to break in--three wrong
code entries in a row locks the door until someone from security resets
it. And, according to its record, the only code entries it got today
were the correct ones." He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the door
frame. "Whoever got in here knew your code number."
"Well, that's impossible, too," Sulu retorted. "No one who knows my
code could have done something like this to my plants!"
Uhura shook a flattened moss rose out from one of Sulu's uniform jackets
and frowned. "I can't think of anyone on board ship who would have
wanted to do something like this," she admitted. "Can you?"
Chekov grunted. "Maybe the auditors wanted to see how efficiently we
clean our rooms. And pick up our clothes--" His eyebrows lifted
quizzically as he watched Sulu put another shirt away. "Do you always
hang your shirts in groups by color?"
Sulu felt his cheeks prickle with embarrassment. "Don't you?"
Uhura's chiming laughter sparkled through the room. "How can he? His
shirts come in one color Starfleet gold."
"I have a black one for wearing on shore leave," Chekov said
defensively.
Sulu gave that remark the silence it deserved. "You really don't think
it was one of the auditors who did this, do you?"
"People who would set off an intruder alert just to see how quickly we
respond would do anything," Chekov said gloomily. "But no, I don't
think they did this. There's no way any of them would have known your
code number." He bent over the locking panel again, as if the remark had
reminded him of something. "That's one thing we can do
something-about."
Sulu watched him warily. "What are you doing?"
"Programming a new code number for your door."
"No!" Sulu scrambled to his feet in alarm. "Don't do that! The last
time we changed it, I kept locking myself out for a week."
Predictably, Chekov ignored him, and when Sulu looked at Uhura for
support, all she gave him was a shrug. "Don't look at me," she said,
while she closed his closet. "I've never understood why a man who can
recognize star coordinates at a glance can't remember a four-digit
access code."
"But that'
s exactly the problem," Sulu argued. "Whenever I try to use
coordinates as a code, I can never remember which star I picked."
Chekov grunted. "I have a suggestion. Let me pick the access code for
you. I can come up with something totally meaningless--"
"Yeah, you're good at that," Sulu agreed with another irrepressible
grin.
The Russian scowled at him. "Do you ever want to see your water
chameleons again?"
"All right." Sulu spread his hands in defeat. "Make up an access code
for me."
Chekov tapped a programming prompt into the lock. "How does 7249
sound?"
"Like a number l'II never remember." Sulu swept up the last of the
potting soil and crushed leaves, dumping them both into the waste
disposal unit. "Will you remember it?
"Of course," said Chekov. "It's the first four digits of the serial
number on my phaser."
"Oh, great." Sulu tossed him a mocking look. "So now, anyone who wants
to know my access code can read it off your hip?"
"I don't walk around armed with a phaser at all times--'?
Uhura cleared her throat and headed for the doorway. "I'm going to
dinner," she announced. "Are you boys going to come with me, or are you