Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS

by J. M. Dillard

sealed off the second I'm finished. We can't risk someone figuring out

  what we're doing and beating me back here."

  She nodded reluctantly, unable to let go of the feeling that she was

  somehow failing in her responsibilities by staying behind. She found

  it infinitely harder to handle the technical details and wait--but Kirk

  had insisted that she not risk herself, and she could not disobey a

  direct order. "Yes, sir," she said with a sigh. "I'll be standing by

  for your signal."

  They crammed the last of the bodies onto the lift. Before it closed,

  Kirk gave her the thumbs-up signal.

  She smiled and returned it.

  McCoy had, for the time being at least, won the argument. Spock had

  continued rather grudgingly to search for a nonpoisonous derivative to

  test on Sarek, as had McCoy, but both of them knew Sarek was slipping

  away. McCoy slowly realized that, as much as he hated the thought,

  Spock was probably right. Even so, he could not knowingly permit the

  use of a poison on any patient--even one that would jump at the chance

  to brain him--especially when it was Spock's father or, God forbid,

  Anitra. And he was hoping that Spock would ultimately be unable to go

  through with it.

  Within the chambers, Sarek and Anitra, pale and scarcely breathing,

  seemed something less than alive. Not dead, exactly; but they reminded

  McCoy of some pictures he had seen of museums where life-size images of

  real people were cast in wax. He felt the same eerie effect looking at

  Sarek and Anitra now--waxen effigies of what had once been real, living

  people.. ..

  Up to now, Spock had scrupulously kept his eyes off the chambers and

  did not look when McCoy checked the monitors. It was extreme

  concentration on a task, McCoy decided, or an exercise in denial. He

  looked down at Anitra's monitor and wished he hadn't--her condition

  paralleled Sarek's. Soon she, too, would be in a coma, that gray

  nether world between life and death. It took him a while to get up the

  nerve to check Sarek's monitor; behind the glass, Sarek's lungs no

  longer seemed to expand with air. McCoy closed his eyes at the thought

  that Sarek had been dead these past few minutes, and he, McCoy, would

  have to tell Spock that he had not known.. .. McCoy opened his eyes

  and forced himself to look down.

  He gasped audibly. Spock's perfect concentration was broken; he

  glanced over at McCoy, his expression unconvincingly calm, clearly

  expecting the worst.

  "I don't understand it," McCoy said. His eyes were still glued to the

  monitor on the console. "By all rights, this man should be dead--"

  Spock stood up.

  "Come take a look, Spock." Without taking his eyes from the monitor,

  McCoy motioned him over and cracked a wide grin. "His life

  processes--they're getting stronger."

  Spock walked over behind the doctor and read the monitor. Sarek was

  indeed stronger and no longer in a coma. Spock looked up; behind the

  glass, Sarek opened his eyes and frowned.

  "Father," Spock whispered and walked to the edge of the chamber. He

  rested a hand lightly upon the glass.

  All sound within the chamber was absorbed, but Sarek's lips moved

  clearly. "Spock?" they said.

  Kirk had dumped the sedated officers off on C deck, and Tomson had

  flooded decks D and F. Then, once Kirk had removed the few unconscious

  personnel, she sealed off the corridors between the lift and the

  transporter on D and the lift and auxiliary control on F. With the ship

  in chaos, there were relatively few personnel on those levels, since

  these areas were generally frequented by those on duty.

  Kirk called her from the lift. "That's it, Tomson. Go ahead and

  program the lift."

  "And seal off the emergency shafts," she reminded him.

  "There must be a commendation in there for you somewhere,

  Lieutenant."

  Tomson bent over Spock's station (even in Spock's chair, she was too

  tall to read the viewer and had to hunch her shoulders) and programmed

  the lift. It would go now only to the transporter room, auxiliary

  control and the bridge. No matter how often others might try to signal

  it, it woul d ignore their requests, unless they somehow managed to get

  onto one of the three key floors.

  And there was no way they could. Tomson settled back in Spock's chair,

  feeling quite pleased with herself.

  Kirk came off the lift, his filter dangling from a strap around his

  neck; Tomson had already ventilated the bridge and removed her own

  mask.

  He went directly to the navigational console, sat

  down and manipulated a few controls. When he finally turned to speak

  to her, he was beaming. "On route to Vulcan. Congratulations,

  Lieutenant."

  She walked over to him. "You mean we did it, sir?" She broke into a

  silly grin--so utterly silly that Kirk grabbed her arms and shook her

  enthusiastically, quite unaware of what he was doing. She grabbed his

  arms firmly and shook back.

  "We did it!"

  "We did it!"

  It took them both a moment to realize that they were hugging; Tomson's

  ridiculous smile faded and she stiffened. Kirk, embarrassed, loosened

  his grip and took a step backward. But neither one of them could quite

  completely stop smiling.

  Spock moved toward the isolation chamber, but McCoy put a hand on his

  arm. "Sorry, Spock, but I think we'd better test him out first."

  Spock stopped. "I suppose you're right, Doctor." He stepped back

  while McCoy studied the monitor.

  "His brain chemistry is back to normal," the doctor announced

  cheerfully. "He's all right."

  Spock opened the door to the chamber and loosened Sarek's restraints.

  Sarek sat forward, still weak but growing in strength, and rubbed his

  wrists. "What place is this?"

  "One of the medical laboratories at the academy," Spock said. "We

  brought you here."

  "Have I been ill?"

  Spock carefully avoided his father's gaze. "You .. . have not been

  yourself."

  He led Sarek out of the chamber and sat him at one

  of the chairs at the console; McCoy used the handheld scanner and did

  a full physical on him, just to be sure.

  "My wife and my brother," Sarek said. His face was still austere and

  stern, but now inspired respect rather than fear in McCoy. "Are they

  also here? Or are they in ShiKahr?"

  Spock met McCoy's eyes for a moment before he made himself look

  directly into his father's. His voice was controlled, completely

  Vulcan, yet there was a strange softness in it that McCoy had not heard

  before.

  "Mother is on the Enterprise. I do not know her status. Silek--" and

  he paused here, his voice becoming even softer, "--is dead."

  Sarek sighed and directed his gaze toward Anitra; he seemed to be

  concentrating on her features. "How?" he asked.

  McCoy watched Spock closely, unsure of what the Vulcan might say.

  "Murdered," Spock said, "by alien entities. He and Starnn both."

  "Amanda," Sarek whispered. "Does she know?"

  "She knows." Spock paused for a m
oment. "She is afflicted by them

  herself. The evil that destroyed Hydrilla has overtaken Vulcan. It

  spread from Starnn to you, and then Amanda; it has even taken over the

  crew of the Enterprise. They are entities that bond with the chemicals

  of the brain and thus control their host, causing him to commit

  violent, sadistic actions. The fact that you are now free of them

  means that there is hope that Amanda, and many on Vulcan, can also be

  free."

  "How can they be freed?" Sarek asked. He was still watching Anitra

  and seemed to understand.

  "I am not positive of the circumstances that brought about your

  freedom."

  "Do you think it was the sedative I used?" McCoy asked.

  Spock shook his head. "Negative--it was one of the first compounds we

  tested." He glanced at the chronometer on the console. "Do you have

  any idea, Doctor, when you first sedated them?"

  "Not really," McCoy admitted. "I know it's been at least one standard

  solar day. Why would you ask?"

  "You told me earlier that Anitra and Sarek spoke to you of 'feeding," "

  Spock said slowly. "Apparently, they indicated that they regularly

  needed to feed off another's terror, or find a new host. They used the

  plural pronoun 'we." It might be that the entities kept multiplying

  and either had to be fed or transferred to another host. If the energy

  supply were cut off--"

  "That would explain the odd change in Sarek's brain chemicals," McCoy

  said excitedly. "Don't you realize what this means? We've beaten the

  damn things!"

  Spock seemed unmoved. "Not necessarily, Doctor. Unless you have a

  simple suggestion for isolating all those on Vulcan."

  Sarek emerged suddenly from his reverie. "Sedation was obviously quite

  effective. If the host was incapacitated, it would keep them from

  spreading or feeding, would it not?"

  "Yes," said Spock. "But logistically, how do we sedate an entire

  planet for more than a solar day?"

  "I'm afraid you have a point there," said McCoy.

  "Once an appropriately long-lasting sedative is found," Sarek

  responded, "it might conceivably be introduced into the water

  supply--"

  "But exposure to the sedative would then vary, depending on the amount

  of water drunk. And there might be those who would not drink from the

  main reserves at all. Then there exists the problem of getting a

  sufficient quantity of the sedative into all of the main reserves."

  "Perhaps a gaseous form," Sarek mused.

  "Those locked inside would not be affected," said Spock.

  "Only humans, most likely," Sarek pointed out. "Vulcans usually

  ventilate their buildings using air from outside. And as for those who

  might be sealed inside, you indicated yourself that they must go in

  search of new victims on a regular basis."

  "It might be possible. We would need a gas which has a long-lasting,

  sedative effect, works on- humans and Vulcans and stays in the

  atmosphere for at least several hours." Spock ticked them off on his

  fingers. "Now the only problems that exist are to isolate such a gas,

  manufacture sufficient quantities of it and find a way to disperse it

  into Vulcan's atmosphere."

  "Simple," McCoy said ironically.

  "The box." There was an urgent note in Sarek's voice. "There are

  several of them at the academy and one at the house. My last memory is

  that of looking into the open box.. .."

  "It would be interesting to study one," Spock suggested.

  "No. That is how the Hydrillan expedition was first affected. Then

  they brought the boxes with them in order to spread it further."

  "Interesting," Spock mused. "Then the box serves to house the

  particles. But why would such constructs

  be required if they spread so easily from host to host?"

  "Hydrilla has been dead some twenty thousand years, and yet the

  particles survived. Perhaps they had hosts design the container for

  just such an occurrence."

  "It is an effective means of storage," Spock replied, "but the

  Hydrillans were not even capable of space flight beyond their own solar

  system. How could they have designed such a sophisticated device?"

  Sarek paused for a moment. "They could not. But it might have been

  designed earlier by a more technologically advanced culture, the one

  that originally spread the particles to Hydrilla--"

  McCoy interrupted. "It hardly matters. What we need to do is get rid

  of the things."

  Spock frowned at him. "If their contents have not already been

  exhausted."

  "A very likely possibility," Sarek said.

  "I'm not so sure it can be repaired," Tomson said. She sat

  cross-legged on the deck. The panel beneath the communications board

  had been pulled away, and she gazed up uncertainly into a maze of

  microcircuitry. She leaned back and, without having to stand up, could

  just see over the edge enough to access the computer. Even with the

  computer's help, the condition in which Anitra had left communications

  was intimidating.

  "It can be repaired," Kirk said firmly from the navigational console.

  "We don't have a choice. We're entering orbit now."

  "Already?" Tomson asked in dismay. She turned around to see the red

  giant spinning leisurely in its orbit, then hastened back to her work

  on the board; she was nowhere near patching external communications

  together.

  Kirk's answer was interrupted by a thunderous roar. The ship pitched

  to the left and sent Tomson rolling along the deck with a yelp. She

  stopped directly in front of the turbolift; the doors opened in

  response, waiting. Kirk held onto the navigational console and waited

  for the ship to slowly right itself.

  "What the--" Tomson said.

  Kirk already had the deflectors up. "We've been fired on. Activate

  starboard view screen, Lieutenant."

  Tomson raised herself and studied Uhura's console helplessly. "On this

  panel, sir?"

  "To your left, Lieutenant," he barked.

  Tomson found it; the screen filled with the image of a sleekly designed

  starship.

  Kirk swore under his breath. "That looks like one of ours. See if you

  can raise--" he began, then corrected himself. "Magnify that image."

  Tomson forced herself to react faster than the last time. She chose a

  button on the panel; the image shimmered and enlarged.

  "The Surak," Kirk said. "What the hell is a Federation starship full

  of Vulcans doing firing on us?"

  Tomson was miserable. "I'm sorry, sir--it's my fault we can't contact

  them."

  "I don't need apologies, Lieutenant. I need a damage report--you can

  get that from the main terminal." He was readying the photon torpedoes

  as another blast shook the bridge.

  "No casualties reported--" Tomson began."I wouldn't have expected them

  to," he said tautly. "What about the ship?"

  "Minor structural damage to the jettison pods. Nothing significant,

  sir."

  "I never thought I'd be doing this." Kirk fired the photon torpedoes

  in a barrage of three.

  The Surak backed off.

  "Looks l
ike you hit them, sir," Tomson said excitedly.

  "Looks like it." Kirk sighed. "Even after that board is fixed,

  Tomson, I want to maintain radio silence. Don't respond to anyone--not

  even Vulcan Space Central. I'm not so sure we're going to get a warm

  reception."

  Anitra smiled faintly in response to the broad grin on McCoy's face;

  slowly, her expression faded to one of uncertainty. "Sarek," she said,

  frowning. She leaned forward in her chair and looked out of the

  chamber; when she saw him on the other side of the glass, she nearly

  bolted. "Oh, my God .. ."

  McCoy held her back with a reassuring arm on her shoulder. "It's all

  right. He's all right now."

  "Spock--is he--"

  "He's fine. You can't hurt someone with a head as thick as his."

  She smiled again weakly. "Don't let him hear you say that. We're in

  the lab again, aren't we? How'd we get here?"

  "I brought you."

  She closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I was so certain I could handle

  Sarek without any problem.... It must have been horrible for you."

  "The worst part was bringing Spock back to consciousness."