by James Blish
Kirk nodded, left. Spock said, "Doctor, the ship's temperature is increasingly uncomfortable for me. I have adjusted the environment in my quarters to one hundred and twenty-five degrees. This at least is tolerable, but—"
"I can see I won't be making any house calls on you," McCoy said.
"I wondered if there was something which could lower my sensitivity to cold."
"I'm not a magician, Spock. Just a plain old country doctor."
As the Vulcan closed the Sickbay door behind him, Janet turned, frustrated, from the computer. "Dr. McCoy, none of our usual radiation therapies will have any effect on this particular form of radiation sickness."
"All right. We start over. We work harder. Faster. Start completely from scratch if we have to. But we must find something."
Outside in the corridor, Commodore Stocker had intercepted Spock. "Can I have a word with you, Mr. Spock?"
"Commodore?"
Stocker lowered his voice. "Mr. Spock, a Starship can function with a chief engineer, a chief medical officer, even a First Officer who is under physical par. But it is disastrous to have a commanding officer whose condition is less than perfection."
"I am aware of that."
"Please understand me. My admiration for Captain Kirk is unbounded. He is a great officer. But . . . Mr. Spock, I need your help and your cooperation."
"For what, sir?"
"I want you to take over command of the Enterprise."
"On what grounds, sir?"
"On the grounds that the Captain is unable to perform his duties because of his affliction."
"I must remind you that I have contracted the same affliction."
"But you're a Vulcan," Stocker said. "You have a much greater life span. You show the effects to a much smaller degree . . ."
"I am half human, sir," Spock said. "My physical reflexes are down. My mental capacities are reduced. I tire easily. No, sir. I am not fit for command."
"If you, a Vulcan, are not, then obviously Captain Kirk cannot be."
"Sir," Spock said, "I have duties to perform."
"Mr. Spock, I do not like what I'm about to say but regulations demand it. As second in command of the Enterprise, you must convene an extraordinary hearing on the Captain's competence."
"I—resist that suggestion, sir," Spock said stiffly.
"It's not a matter of choice. If a Captain is mentally or physically unfit, a competency hearing is mandatory. Please don't force me to quote a regulation which you know as well as I do."
There was a long pause. "Very well," Spock said. "The hearing will convene at fourteen hundred hours."
Under the eyes of a worried Kirk, Janet and McCoy were running final tests of Chekov. The unhappy Ensign was obviously considering rebellion against what seemed to be the thousandth needle jabbed into him during the course of these interminable examinations.
"Now, this won't hurt," McCoy told him.
"That's what you said last time," Chekov said. "And the time before that."
"Did it hurt?"
"Yes," Chekov retorted.
From the door of Sickbay came a whimper: "Doctor . . . help me . . ."
They turned. Arlene Galway was clutching the door-jamb for support. She was almost unrecognizable with age. "Please . . . do something . . . help . . ."
She reached out a hand; but before anyone could reach her, she collapsed to the deck. McCoy bent over her, while Kirk looked on, appalled even through the gray fog in which everything seemed to have happened in the last few days—or was it the last few weeks?
"That can't be—Lieutenant Galway?" he quavered.
"It is," McCoy said, his own voice creaky. "Or was. She's dead. Her higher metabolism rate caused her to age more rapidly than the rest of us. But it's only a question of time before—"
"Bones, how long have we got?"
"Oh, it's a matter of days, Jim . . . perhaps only hours."
It wasn't information calculated to tranquilize a Starfleet captain called to a hearing on his command competence. Nor were the people gathered around the briefing-room table a quieting influence. The mysterious radiation sickness had made deeper inroads on everyone who had made the ill-fated check on the Robert Johnson expedition.
Looking as though he'd passed his fiftieth birthday, Spock opened the hearing by turning to Yeoman Atkins, who was serving as recorder. "Let it be read that this competency hearing has been ordered by Commodore Stocker, here present." He paused. "And reluctantly called by myself."
Kirk said, "Let it also be read that I consider this hearing invalid."
Spock looked down the table at Stocker.
Stocker said, "Regulation seven five nine two, section three paragraph eleven . . ."
"I know the book, Commodore," Kirk said.
Spock said quietly, "The legality of the hearing, Captain, is unquestionable."
"Mr. Spock, may I make a statement?" It was Stocker's question. At Spock's nod, he said, "I've had to resort to these legal grounds to save the lives of some extremely valuable members of the Starfleet. I have tried to convince Captain Kirk of the need to proceed to Star Base Ten—but have been overruled in each case. The responsibility for this hearing is mine."
"On the contrary, Commodore," Spock said. "As presiding officer and second in command of the Enterprise, the responsibility is mine. Captain Kirk, would you like to make a statement?"
"Yes!" The word came in a shout. "I am Captain of this ship and am totally capable of commanding her. Call this farce off and let's get back to work!"
"I cannot, sir," Spock said. "The regulations are quite specific." The chill struck him again. "You are entitled, sir, to direct examination of all witnesses immediately after this board has questioned them."
Kirk's voice was acid with sarcasm. "That is very kind of you, Mr. Spock."
Spock pushed a button on the computer-recorder. Imperturbable, he said, "Mr. Sulu, how long have you served with Captain Kirk?"
"Two years, sir."
"To your knowledge has he ever been unable to make decisions?"
"No, sir."
"Did he order you to maintain standard orbit around Gamma Hydra Four?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did he, several minutes later, repeat the order?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did he, order you to increase orbit to twenty thousand perigee?"
"Yes, sir."
"And did he not repeat that order?"
"He did not!" Kirk yelled. "When I give an order I expect it to be obeyed! I don't have to repeat myself!"
"Captain, you'll be allowed direct cross-examination privileges when the board has finished."
"Isn't your terminology mixed up, Spock? This isn't a board! It's a cudgel!"
"Captain, it is a hearing not only sanctioned but required by regulations. Will you please answer the question, Mr. Sulu?"
"Yes, sir. Captain Kirk repeated his order."
"Commodore?"
"I have no questions," Stacker said.
"Captain Kirk?"
"Let's get on with it."
Spock ground his teeth together to keep them from chattering. His hands felt clumsy with cold. "Yeoman Atkins, you handed Captain Kirk a fuel-consumption report before witnesses. He accepted and signed it. Is that correct?"
"Sir, he had more important things on his mind. The current crisis—"
"Yeoman, you are merely to answer the question."
"I—guess he forgot he'd signed it."
"You guess?"
"He forgot he'd signed it."
"Thank you, Yeoman. You may leave."
It went on. Spock called Uhura to testify to Kirk's failure to recall that the Romulans had broken Code Two.
"All right!" Kirk cried. "I had a lot on my mind! I admit to the oversight!"
"It could have been a dangerous one," Stocker said.
"You are out of order, Commodore," Spock said. "Dr. McCoy?"
McCoy was lost in a daydream. "Dr. McCoy!"
He roused.
"Sorry. Yes, Mr. Spock?"
"Several hours ago, at this board's request, you ran a complete physical examination of Captain Kirk."
"I did." McCoy threw a tape across the table at Spock. "It's all there. Enjoy yourself."
Silently, the Vulcan placed the tape cartridge into the computer slot.
The device buzzed, clicked, spoke. "Subject's physical age, based on physiological profile, sixty-three solar years."
There was a silence. Then Kirk said, "I am thirty-four years old."
"The computer differs with you," Stocker said.
"Dr. McCoy, give us your professional evaluation of Captain Kirk's present physical condition."
McCoy averted his eyes from Spock. "He is afflicted with a strange type of radiation sickness . . . and so are you and I and Mr. Scott."
"Kindly restrict your comments to Captain Kirk alone, Doctor. What effect has this sickness had on him?"
"He's—he's graying a little. A touch of arthritis."
"Is that all?"
"You know it isn't all! What are trying to do, Spock?"
"What I must do. Is not the Captain suffering from a peculiar physical degeneration which strongly resembles aging?"
"Yes, he is. But he's a better man—"
"Doctor, do you agree with the computer's evaluation of the Captain's physical age?"
"It's a blasted machine!"
"Do you agree with it, Doctor?"
"Yes, I agree. I'm sorry, Jim."
"This board has no further questions. Unless you, Commodore Stocker . . ."
"I am quite satisfied, Mr. Spock."
"Do you wish to call witnesses, Captain Kirk?"
"I am perfectly capable of speaking in my own defense!"
Kirk tried to rise. His knee gave way; and he clutched at the table to keep from falling. "This hearing is being held for one reason and one alone. Because I refuse to leave Gamma Hydra Two."
"Gamma Hydra Four, sir," Spock said.
"Of course. A slip of the tongue. Where was I?" He suddenly clenched his fist and dashed it against the table. "So I'm a little confused! Who wouldn't be at a time like this? My ship in trouble . . . my senior officers ill . . . and this—this nonsense about a competency hearing! Enough to mix up any man! Trying to relieve a Starfleet captain of his command. Why, that's . . . that's . . . I wouldn't have believed it of you, Spock!"
He glared around the table. "All right, ask me questions! Go ahead! I'll show you who's capable! There's nothing wrong with my memory. Nor with my resolution, either. I repeat, we are maintaining orbit around Gamma Hydra Two!"
The second memory failure stood out, stark-naked.
Spock, cold to bis marrow, spoke quietly into the silence.
"We have no more questions, Captain." He struggled to control his shivering. "If you will leave the room, sir, while the board votes . . ."
"Fine! You bet I'll leave it. Get your stupid voting over so I can get back to running my ship!"
He limped to the door and turned. "If I'm wanted, I'll be in my quarters."
When the door closed behind him, Spock said, "A simple hand vote will suffice. Dr. Wallace is excluded from the vote. Those who agree that Captain Kirk is no longer capable of handling the Enterprise will so signify by raising their right hands."
All hands save Spock's were slowly raised.
"Mr. Spock?" It was Commodore Stocker. '
Spock raised his hand. He addressed the recording computer. "Register a unanimous vote."
Stocker said, "I assume, Mr. Spock, that you will now take over command of this vessel."
"Your assumption is incorrect, sir."
"Your reason?"
"By the standards this hearing has used against the Captain: my own physical failings exclude me from any command position."
"All right. Next in line is Mr. Scott."
All eyes fixed on Scott. He peered at the expectant faces, blinked, nodded—and was asleep.
"Since all senior officers are incapable, I am forced by regulations to assume command." Stocker was rising from the table when Spock said, "Sir, you have never commanded a starship."
"Whom would you have take over, Mr. Spock?"
"There is danger from the Romulans," Spock said.
"Mr. Spock, we've got to save these people!" He turned to Sulu. "Mr. Sulu, lay a direct course for Star Base Ten. Warp Five."
"Across the neutral zone, sir?"
Stocker nodded. "Alter course immediately."
"Commodore Stocker, I beg you not to underestimate the danger. Or the Romulans." Spock spoke urgently.
"The neutral zone is thinly patrolled at best. I am gambling that the violation will escape the Romulans' notice."
"The gamble, sir, if I may quote the odds—" Spock said.
"You may not!" Stocker strode to the door. "All officers are to return to their stations."
Kirk was alone in his quarters, tired, defeated, crushed by the full weight of his seventy years. When the knock at the door came, he could hardly bring himself to respond to it; but after a moment, he said, "Come in."
Spock entered, followed by Janet, who took up an inconspicuous stance beside the door. Kirk looked up hopefully at Spock, but the First Officer's face, for once, was almost as readable as a book.
"So," Kirk said. "I've been relieved."
"I am sorry, Captain."
"You should have been a prosecuting attorney."
"Regulations required me—"
"Regulations!" Kirk said. "Don't give me regulations, Spock! You've wanted command all along! The first little excuse—"
"I have not assumed command, Captain."
"I hope you're proud of the way you got . . ." Kirk paused, Spock's words gradually coming home. "What do you mean, you're not in command?"
"I suffer from the same ailment as yourself, sir."
"If you're not in command, who is?"
"Commodore Stocker."
It took Kirk a long moment to place the name. Then he exploded. "Stocker? Are you crazy? He's never held a field command! If Scotty—"
"Mr. Scott is in no condition to command. Commodore Stocker, as a ranking officer—"
"Don't prate to me about rank. The man's a chair-bound paper-pusher. Spock, I order you to take command!"
"I cannot, sir."
"You are disobeying a direct order, Mr. Spock."
"No, Captain. Only Commodore Stocker can give command orders on this ship now."
Impotent fury rose in Kirk. "You disloyal, traitorous . . . you stabbed me in the back the first chance you had. You—" His rage mounted as he found that he was weeping. Weeping! "Get out of here! I don't ever want to have to look at you again!"
Spock hesitated, inclined his head slightly, and left. After a moment, Kirk became aware of the female figure still standing beside the door inside his room, making faint sniffling noises. He peered at it.
"Who is it? Jan? Jan?"
"I'm sorry, Jim," she said. "Truly I am."
"I acted like a fool in there. Let them rattle me. Let myself get confused."
"Everyone understood."
"Only I'm not old, Jan. I'm not! A few muscular aches don't make a man old! You don't run a starship with your arms—you run it with your head! My mind's as sharp as it ever was!"
"We'll find a cure."
"A simple case of radiation sickness and I'm relieved of command." He turned and looked at himself in a mirror. "All right, I admit I've gotten a little gray. Radiation can do that."
"Jim," she said, as if in pain. "I have work to do. Please excuse me—"
"Look at me, Jan. You said you loved me. You know me. Look closely—"
"Please, Jim—"
"Just need a little rest That's all. I'm not old, am I? Well, Say it! Say I'm not old!"
There was no response. Grasping her by the shoulders, he pulled her to him and kissed her with all the violence of which he was capable. But there was no response—not from her, and what was worse, not even within himself. He rel
eased her—and saw the pity in her eyes. He turned his back.
"Get out."
Now what? He could not think. He was relieved. The answer . . . but there was no answer. Wait. Something about a comet. McCoy. Chekov. The examination room. That was it, the examination room. He hobbled out, cursing himself for his slowness.
Spock was there; so were Nurse Chapel, McCoy and Janet. They all looked very old, somehow. But the hapless Chekov, back on the table again, did not seem to have changed. He was saying: "Why don't I just go back to work and leave my blood here?"
Kirk tried to glare at Spock. "What are you doing here?"
"It would seem the place where I can be of the most use."
"Maybe you'd like to relieve Dr. McCoy? Bones, what about Ensign Chekov here?"
"Nothing," McCoy said peevishly. "Absolutely nothing."
"There has to be! There has to be! We went down to the surface together. Beamed-down together. Stayed in the same spot. He was with us all the time. He—"
"No, Captain," Spock said, drawing in a sharp breath. "Not all the time. He left us for a few moments."
"Left us?" Kirk stared at the Vulcan, trying to remember. "Oh. Yes—when he went into the building. He . . . there was . . . Spock! Something did happen!"
"Indeed, Captain. Doctor, you will remember Professor Alvin's corpse in the improvised coffin—"
"Chekov, you got scared!" Kirk crowed. "You bumped into the dead man, and—"
"You bet," Chekov said. "I was scared, sir. But not half as scared as I am now, I'll tell you that."
"Fright?" McCoy said, raising a trembling hand to his chin. "Yes. Could be. Heart beats faster. Breath short. Cold sweat. Epinephrine flows. Something I read once . . . epinephrine tried for radiation sickness, in the mid-twentieth century—"
"It was abandoned," Janet said. "When hyronalyn was discovered."
"Yes, yes," McCoy said testily. "Don't confuse me. Why was it abandoned? There was some other reason. I knew it well, once. They didn't know the intermediate? Yes! That's it! AMP! Nurse, ask the computer for something called AMP!"
Christine Chapel, her face a study in incredulitity, turned to the computer read-out panel. After what seemed a very long time, she said, "There's an entry for it. It's called cyclic adenosine three-five monophosphate. But it affects all the hormonal processes—that's why they dropped it."