with you to the ship."
"Vulcan is infected with whatever destroyed the Hydrilla sector," Spock
said levelly. "It isn't safe here for any of us."
Sanghoon Cho was alone in the garden lounge, feeding his
Venus's-flytrap what looked to Tomson like raw ground meat. He peered
at her with narrow,
unfriendly eyes for a moment, blinked owlishly, and returned his
attention to his pet.
"Someone said you were looking for me," he said. His eyes were still
on the flytrap.
Tomson had been told that Cho was odd--he was indeed that and more. His
face was Oriental, sharp and thin to the point of being gaunt, and it
was framed by the most incongruous fluff of riotously curly brown
hair.
And I have found you, Tomson thought. She said, "I have a few
questions to ask you."
"Let me guess." A bit of meat dangled precariously from Cho's finger
above the flytrap's gaping jaws; it fell, finally, onto the plant with
a small slap. "Moh al Baslama." He smiled ironically down at his pet
as its jaws closed over its food. "Actually, it wasn't a guess. I
have a very high psi rating."
"Well, you're right." She was unimpressed. "We have a warrant and my
men are searching your quarters now."
"Let them search," Cho said mildly, looking up at last. "I didn't kill
Moh. But I do have a question for you." He wiped his fingers
delicately on a handkerchief.
Tomson waited.
"Just what the hell is going on on this ship?" He looked at her
sharply as though expecting an answer; Tomson stood there, not saying
anything. "People on this ship aren't the same anymore," he continued.
"Something very weird is going on."
Tomson's eyes narrowed. Mentally, she saw herself confronting McCoy in
sickbay and saying, All right, Doctor, explain to me how this one
slipped through the
psycho scans To Cho, she said, "I don't know what you're talking
about. Explain."
He knit his pale, oversized brows together and glanced suspiciously
from side to side, as though fearful of eavesdroppers. "Moh was killed
for noticing the changes in ... certain people. He said too much to
the wrong person. I sensed the changes in them, too-my psi, like I
said. But after what happened to Moh, I thought it might be better to
keep what I see to myself."
"If you want to do something for Moh, you won't keep it to yourself."
He looked up at her, and the fear in his eyes was unmistakable this
time. "Look," he said in a tone far less contrived than the one he had
been using with her, "something strange is going on. Check with Dr. Me
Coy--he'll verify my sanity and my psi rating for you. I last saw Moh
with one of his good friends, a guy from engineering--one of the ones
who's changed." He shook his head. "Sometimes I think I'm the only
normal one left in the department."
Don't bet on it, Tomson thought wryly. But she half believed him.
"Give me the name of Moh's friend," she said.
Cho leaned forward and whispered, "Stryker."
"First or last name?"
"Just Stryker. But don't go alone." He paused for effect. "You won't
come back."
Tomson's mouth twitched. "If he's responsible for killing Moh, he's
got more to worry about than I do."
Inside the ShanaiKahr Oasis, it was cool and dark. Outside, hot winds
moaned ghoulishly.
"Hell of a place for shore leave," Stryker said. He had a clean,
sincere face--handsome, but not so handsome that he had developed any
conceit about it. "I spent a little time here once. You know what the
Vulcans call that?" He thumbed at the small cyclones of red sand that
beat against the door. "The word translates as 'breeze'." Scott
helped himself to his second round of Scotch. "I'd hate to see what
they call a wind."
"You're right." Stryker grinned. "You would."
"What were you doing on Vulcan then?" asked Ensign Gooch. She was
beautiful, dark and as tall as Scott, who sat most appreciatively next
to her. "Serving time, Lieutenant?"
"Just a minute." Scott held up his hand. "I've been on shore leave
less than an hour, and I've already heard more "Lieutenants' and
"Lieutenant Commanders' than I care to. Enough of rank for the next
few hours."
"A great idea, sir." Gooch smiled warmly at him. "Call me Mikki."
"There now," Scott said, "so it's Mikki, and Scotty and.. ."
"Stryker."
Satisfied, Scotty nodded at Mikki to continue.
She looked at Stryker with dark, innocent eyes. "I just wanted to know
what penal colonies there were on Vulcan."
Stryker lifted an eyebrow in perfect native style. "I studied here for
a year--exchange program."
"God help the Vulcans."
"It's true. Vulcan Science Academy, the engineering
program." He leaned forward as if divulging a confidence. "Would you
believe that Sanghoon Cho and I were in the same program together?"
"I can believe it," said Scott. "You're both excellent engineers."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Mr. Scott-Scotty." Stryker
cast a smug look at Mikki.
She ignored it. "Now there's a queer duck. I'll agree that Cho is the
best at what he does, but... he hardly fits into the Star Fleet
mold."
"Not too well," Scott agreed.
"Cho always kept to himself a lot," Stryker said. "It was always hard
to know what he was thinking about." He looked down at his beer. "He's
gotten even stranger since Moh died."
Mikki's animation dimmed. "That was a horrible thing. And they've
still no idea who--?"
Scott shook his head solemnly. "I've seen murders on starships
before--of diplomats, spies and crew when aliens attacked or came on
board--but I've never, in all my years in the service, heard of a crew
member killed by one of their own."
"They say he was tortured," Mikki said softly.
Stryker stared morosely at his beer.
"He was a close friend of yours, wasn't he, Stryker?" Scott put a hand
on his shoulder.
"As a matter of fact, he was." Stryker did not look up. "I don't
suppose anyone would like to change the subject. I came here to
relax."
Mikki brightened again. "I know--show Scotty your hypnotic trick.
That's always good for a laugh."
"What's this?" Scott smiled tentatively.
The corner of Stryker's mouth crooked upward. "Okay, Scotty. Just
look into my eyes and concentrate."
"Aah," scoffed Scotty. "I don't cater to that mumbo-jumbo stuff."
"It's not--whatever you called it. Come on, it's fun." Mikki glanced
sideways at Stryker, her eyes shining. "I let him do it to me. Do I
look any worse for it?"
Scott looked at her dubiously.
"If it makes you nervous, forget it," said Stryker. "But it's
perfectly harmless."
"Well... all right," Scott said.
He looked into Stryker's clear, pale eyes.
For a moment, Scott had the sensation of being smothered, snuffed out.
And then he was falling into the colorless eyes, becoming smaller and
smaller.. .. The chief engineer's face showed a burst of unutterable
horror, and then went completely slack as Stryker leaned across the
table and touched his temples briefly. For a moment, Stryker's fingers
glowed palely . and then he dropped his hands.
"See?" Mikki whispered. No one else in the crowded bar had taken
notice. "I told you it would be fun."
Scott's face came alive again and smiled back at them malevolently.
Chapter Five
McCoy stood in his office in sickbay. He'd treated his eye as soon as
they'd made it back to the ship-miraculously, the others had escaped
injury--and it was now only slightly swollen, although below there was
a darkening semicircle. At the moment, however, Spock was far too
distracted to notice.
"Physically, your mother is perfectly fine, with the exception of a few
bruises, but she's pretty shaken up. I gave her a mild tranquilizer,
and she's sleeping." McCoy nodded toward the inner exam room. "Now
would you mind explaining what she's doing here?"
Spock looked from the captain to the doctor; both pairs of eyes were
fastened unwaveringly upon him. He sighed and clasped his hands behind
his back. "Perhaps now is the time for explanation. I regret I was
unable to tell you earlier, but Dr. Lanter's safety was a paramount
concern. Captain, the murder on board and the murders at my parents'
house--" "--are somehow connected," Kirk guessed.
He nodded. "So is the destruction of the Hydrilla sector."
"You're telling me that whatever killed the population of Hydrilla has
spread?"
"It is spreading as we speak. It was brought back by the expedition
crew, some of whom returned later on the Enterprise. Starnn was among
those who returned to Vulcan earlier."
"You mean, the old man who killed himself at your parents' house?"
McCoy asked.
"He was affected. But he did not kill himself."
"Wait a minute," said Kirk. "If he didn't kill himself, who did?"
Spock did not meet their eyes. "My father has been affected," he said
tonelessly. "He almost killed my mother, but she managed to contact me
in time."
The two humans looked at each other.
"Is there any way," asked Kirk, "that he can be-helped?"
"I do not know. The important question is whether Vulcan can avoid the
same fate as Beekman's Planet. And not only Vulcan--the madness
spreads quickly."
"The number of planets," Kirk said slowly, "that come into contact with
Vulcan by cargo or passenger ships ..."
"My God," McCoy interrupted. "How many shuttles run between Earth and
Vulcan every day?"
"We must contact Star Fleet immediately," said Kirk.
"Star Fleet was already notified," Spock responded, "by my Uncle Silek
before he left Hydrilla. Murders were occurring within the expedition
even then. I do not believe security will be breached by any further
explanation at this point. Dr. Lanter and I--"
"That damned project of yours," McCoy said, exasperated.
"You're telling me," Kirk's tone began evenly, but
rose with increasing anger, "that Star Fleet knew about this--knew of
the danger--and let these .. . things on my ship? Exposed my entire
crew, just like that?"
"Star Fleet does not inform me of the rationale behind its decisions,"
Spock answered calmly, "but I am sure the decision was not without
justification. First, the Enterprise's location made it a logical
choice. And imagine the outcome, Captain, had Star Fleet sent a ship
which was completely unaware of the danger. At least Dr. Lanter and I
were able to warn you."
"It's not enough," Kirk said heavily. "Al-Baslama is dead. A man is
dead. And now all of my crew is at risk."
"I regret his death deeply, Captain, and accept responsibility for it.
But there was no way for us or Star Fleet to know that the researchers
picked up by the Enterprise were affected. According to the
information we had at the time, only Starnn and a few others who had
returned to Vulcan earlier were affected. If anyone was remiss, it was
I and not Star Fleet. Had I realized earlier what was happening on
board--"
Kirk's expression remained grim, but he said, "If you were unable to
figure out what was happening, Spock, then no one else could have. But
what does all this have to do with Dr. Lanter and her safety?"
"Dr. Lanter is eminently qualified for this in a special way. She can
sense the mental changes in an afflicted person."
"How?" asked McCoy. "I've seen her medical file. It states a normal
psi function of around a hundred."
"For security purposes, her file lies, Doctor. Her psi function is
well over five hundred."
Kirk whistled in surprise. "She can read minds easily. She knows if
people have--changed."
"Yes. She was able to advise me of the change in my father. This
makes her particularly useful to us, and unfortunately, useful to the
.. . creatures."
"How so?" McCoy asked.
Kirk answered before Spock could. "If they had her telepathic
abilities at their disposal--"
Spock nodded. "It would make them even more powerful than they are
now. That is why Star Fleet insisted that as few people as possible be
informed of our mission, and of Dr. Lanter's talent. If anyone who
knew became affected--"
"She'd be the next target," Kirk finished.
McCoy frowned. "You never explained--if it isn't a disease, then what
is it that we're talking about?"
"In the course of our investigation, we have come to believe it is not
best described as an infection, but rather a type of mental parasite
which takes control of the personality. It might be possible for
several to infest one body. However, the change is not always
noticeable; they seem at first to act very much the same as the
original occupant."
"Parasite?" McCoy said in disgust. "Like a flea or a tapeworm?"
"Nothing so corporeal, Doctor. Pure energy, most likely. Dr. Lanter
has suggested that they might be subatomic particles which can bond
with chemicals in the brain. And apparently they thrive on sadism.
Rather like--" He paused for a moment, hunting for
the proper analogy. "You are familiar with Old Earth legends of
demons?"
McCoy shuddered.
In the next room, Amanda's eyes were open.
"I wanted to let you know about the progress of the investigation,"
Tomson said. She sounded more up than usual.
"You have a suspect?"
"Yes, sir, a pretty good lead."
"Maybe I should congratulate you, Lieutenant. You haven't had much to
go on."
She actually laughed at the other end of the intercom.
"Congratulations would be premature at this point, Captain. I haven't
made any arrests yet, and it's taken a long time to get to this point.
I used the computer to eliminate those who were on duty, and verified
the whereabouts of the rest by questioning. I've narrowed it down to
one major suspect."
"Someone I know?"
"A Lieutenant Stryker in engine
ering, sir."
"One of ours," said Kirk softly. "And he came back from shore
leave?"
"Records indicate that he has. I'll call you, Captain, if I scrape
together enough proof to arrest him."
"You do that, Lieutenant."
Anitra was standing in the sonic shower when she heard the door to her
cabin open. She waited for a moment for someone to call her
name--Spock perhaps, in a matter of urgency when all civility must be
thrust aside--but she did not sense him. In the next
room was silence. She emerged from the cubicle and went into the
outer cabin.
Spock's mother stood hesitantly by the door. She was extremely
agitated, and her thoughts wove in and out so quickly that Anitra found
it difficult to pick up their thread. Amanda glanced up at her and
calmed her outward agitation, but the strong mental stream continued.
"You remember me, don't you?" She smiled sweetly at Anitra.
Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS Page 9