"Then think about it some more!"
"Okay, and I don't mean I'm quitting now. But how do I know what's bad timing, anyway?"
"I guess you don't," Renn sighed. "It's just luck."
"Say, Mr. Kinski," said their pilot from the front seat, "when we get to Life City, why don't you take a walk outside, look up at the stars? That helps you think. It's what I did the last time I was there."
The pilot turned and looked at them with solemn blue eyes.
"By the way," she said, "my name's Jessie. And let me tell you a story about good timing."
Admiral James T. Kirk watched the approaching storm from his window in Starfleet's Medical Tower. Thunder rolled. Lightning jagged across the sky, and fat drops of rain began spattering his view of the brightly lit Plaza below. He remembered very little of his rescue from the Vault. It was all a blur of kind hands, hushed voices, and drifting in and out of unconscious sleep. In the past few days he'd slept a lot, celebrated all the news. Enterprise was safe. Earth was safe. The Federation was safe-
And Heihachiro Nogura still had him guessing.
Why? Kirk wondered. Why did he do it? When I'd promised? When he had me, fair and square? I'll never figure him out.
Nogura had delayed his ground assignment. Kirk's orders still listed him as Admiral and Acting Captain of the Enterprise. Nogura was letting him off the hook-but why? Time to find a replacement? A simple act of kindness? Maybe both, but it was something else as well: a short string.
And Kirk already felt its tug. Because this time it wouldn't be for long. Soon the day would come when Nogura would call him home-and he would go. No tricks, no games, no way out. Word of honor. Damn that Nogura.
I'll take what I can get, he told himself, but a cold, gray weariness had seeped into his bones. "Exhaustion," the doctors said. Or maybe he was just. getting old. Maybe the day would come when he knew Nogura was right. Because strings pulled, and clocks didn't stand still, and everyone had to grow up sometime.
Kirk turned the book in his hands. He'd been sleeping when they left it. Arguing loud enough to wake the dead, the night nurse told him, as she brought in his uniform for the memorial tomorrow.
A new dress jacket. With medals and ribbons and gold braid that hung like chains.
Kirk didn't want to think about that tonight. He settled into the chair by the window and opened the book. Tomorrow he'd find that little brother, but tonight he wanted to read the story one more time-all about another Jim, forever young, who ran away to sea. Tonight he wanted to forget about gold braid and promises. He wanted to be ten years old again, and to have it all in front of him.
If sailor tales to sailor tunes, Storm and adventure, heat and cold, It schooners, islands, and maroons, And Buccaneers and buried Gold.
Kirk read on into the night, while the storm beat against the window and tossed the trees outside. He hardly noticed. And it must have been the print that caused his eyes to water and sent an occasional trickle down his cheek, but he hardly noticed that either. It just seemed like part of the rain.
Spock had been standing there for some time, but Saavik's back was turned. She leaned on the viewport's railing watching their approach to Earth, and if she sensed his presence, she was waiting for him to speak.
"It was poorly planned," he said finally. "No doubt you have had time for second thoughts. If you wish to express regret for your actions, that would be most appropriate. You may proceed."
She faced him then, cool and detached. If this moment caused her anxiety, she didn't show it. She appeared resigned, at peace, entirely Vulcan. For some reason, Spock found that disturbing.
"I regret my error, Mr. Spock," she said calmly.
"Indeed."
"Yes. I should have called the ship, told them you were unconscious, and had you beamed aboard. I. didn't think of it."
"You violated orders, attacked your commanding officer-and that is the extent of your apology? It lacks a certain remorse."
"Yes. The task required no great strength or expertise. There was no point in asking your permission, since you would not have given it. My duty was clear, Mr. Spock. I saw no other way to accomplish it. I believe I acted logically."
"Starfleet regulations do not allow for such logic, Saavik."
"I never thought they did. But some things are more important than Starfleet. Sir, you would not have survived."
"In your opinion."
"I was there."
"I see. Have you anything else to say?"
"Yes. I do not regret my actions. And whatever happens now is no more than I deserve, because I would do it all again."
"You are not helping your case, Saavik."
"I have no case. I gained more than I lost, and I can never lose what you have taught me. I know now. what it means to be a Vulcan. I saw it. And what I saw may always be beyond my reach. But I think that is beside the point. I am going to try-and keep on trying, Mr. Spock, every minute of my life. Because there is no better thing to be." She took a deep breath. "That is what I wished to say. I am finished now."
"But I am not," Spock said. "I take no pleasure in what I am about to tell you. As an officer of Starfleet I deplore what you chose to do. As your teacher, however, I must discuss a matter I have obviously postponed too long. Which reminds me, Saavik," he fixed her with a disapproving gaze, "you have been neglecting your studies. Dr. McCoy believes you are somehow incapacitated. That hardly seems the case. I have taken a month's leave to conduct a seminar at Starfleet Academy and will personally instruct you. Be advised that I do not appreciate absences, in regular classes or private ones. Now, to the matter at hand."
Spock seated himself and showed all the signs of embarking on a long lecture. Saavik was too overcome to speak. She turned away to hide her confusion, wondering wildly whether she had just imagined it all. But no. "
. when personal duty does take precedence," he was saying. "But proper planning is imperative when one must disobey orders. Decisions hastily reached are invariably flawed. Every result must be envisioned, every contingency provided for-including, I feel compelled to mention, planetquakes and lost communicators. 'I didn't think of it' is precisely the sort of thing one does not wish to say to Starfleet Command. Regrettably, I speak from. ah, this subject is quite distasteful to me, Saavik, and I shall address it only once. Do I have your attention?"
"You do, Mr. Spock!"
"Very well. Then listen carefully and try not to interrupt. In my case the charge was mutiny, and I was guilty of that crime. I forged orders to an illegal destination, abducted Fleet personnel and forcibly appropriated this starship and crew as means of transport. My planning, however, with one exception-"
"Hijacked?" Saavik gasped, forgetting herself completely. Her eyes were wide as saucers. Her newfound calm was gone. And when the word went unchallenged, a delighted smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "You, Spock? You hijacked the Enterprise?"
Spock took his time about answering. With monumental patience he folded his hands in his lap. "I believe," he murmured, "that is what I just said. Do I take it you find this interesting?"
Saavik's smile vanished as quickly as it came. She caught her breath and managed to recover her composure, but not the eyebrow that climbed her forehead. "Fascinating!" she said.
This isn't right, Uhura decided. She wasn't expecting cheers or fanfares or a fleet of ships to greet them as there had been sometimes in the past. But the bridge was deserted. Spock, Scotty, and McCoy were off somewhere ignoring the view or savoring it in private. Sulu and Chekov sat at their posts pretending it didn't matter and this was no big deal, just another homecoming. It was more than that, this chatter of normal traffic, this swarm of satellites winking in their orbits, this sight of their gemstone planet turning under its rings of cloud. And Uhura felt some ceremony was called for, some sense of occasion, whether anyone else thought so or not. Besides, she had the conn.
"That's right, Approach Control, once around before we dock." She nodded to the helm
. "Gentlemen."
"Permission to maneuver, ma'am?" Sulu grinned at Chekov and flexed his fingers over the controls.
"Do it, Sulu, with feeling." She touched a key, and as the strains of a symphony swelled through every level of the ship, Uhura began to sing.
"Goin' home, goin' home, I'm a-goin' home Quiet-like, some still day, I'm just goin'. home."
"What is that music, Mr. Spock?"
"Terran. An ancient symphony called From the New World. Those words were set to its theme by one of the composer's students. I find the symphony sufficient, but the folk song has also endured."
"It is very. emotional."
"Indeed. The music honored a young country, its natives, and the immigrants who came to make new homes in a freer land."
"They. made homes? How did they do that?"
"The same way they do now on worlds across the galaxy. Study the humans, Saavikam. They believe it is possible to belong anywhere. It is also their custom, and perhaps it is their best, to welcome strangers to Earth's shores."
"Yes. They are generous. And adaptive. And they have some good ideas, as well as some very foolish ones-"
"Mmmm."
"-but they take so much for granted. Just look at their world. It is so beautiful, and they are so fortunate. Do you think they know?"
"They learn, Saavikam. Slowly, but they learn."
"Oh. Well, in that case, Mr. Spock, I would like to ask a question."
The End
Star Trek - Pandora Principle Page 29