"Lastly, we would like everyone to remain in place for a brief moment of silence, starting now." The clear voice of Nyota Uhura ceased to sound over the intercom as McCoy passed through the doors of the science lab. With a soft sigh, he lowered his head, noting that several lab technicians around the room also set their devices down or ended their conversations mid-sentence. An enlisted engineering crewman crawled out from under a console and stood up, placing one hand over his heart, then dropped it to his side.
McCoy frowned at the crewman, whose eyes were now closed and therefore didn't notice. Mouthing a prayer, the doctor stood in place until Uhura signaled the end of the moment with a quiet, "Thank you." As everyone settled back into their work routine, he approached a lab tech. "That's new," McCoy began. "Did we get news of some disaster over subspace?"
The tech scratched her head, confusion in her eyes. "I haven't heard anything. And I guess you would know if it had been somebody on our ship."
McCoy nodded. "I s'pose it could be some anniversary or other. But you'd think somebody would tell us just what or who we're supposed to be mourning."
"Mourning?" The engineering crewman walked over to them, wiping his hands on his pants. "That's not why. It's some idea he had." He pointed over his shoulder at a figure bent over a console. "Something about taking the time to think about stuff."
"Who had?" McCoy asked, peering in the direction the crewman was indicating. The individual he was referring to was clad in a blue sciences top. As he reached for a memory tape, McCoy caught a glimpse of rank stripes. "Commander…silence…no."
Passing the crewman, he came around until he was standing on the left side of the commander in question. Spock inserted the tape into his console and began to scan reams of text and graphical representations. "I was expecting you momentarily."
McCoy mouthed the phrase behind Spock's back in an exaggerated fashion. "Were you, now?" he drawled, crossing both arms over his chest. "Tell me something; how'd you do it?" He jabbed a finger in Spock's face. "And don't say "do what". You know what."
The Vulcan removed the tape and exchanged it with another. "If you are referring to my arranging a ship-wide contemplative silence session without your input or knowledge, the answer is this; I made a request of the captain, and he agreed." He frowned. "I may have to alter the wording, though. The possibility of confusing the session with an opportunity to pay respect to the dead had not occurred to me." He turned back to the screen, studying it. "I imagine it was unsettling for those who did not understand its significance."
"Ironic, huh?" McCoy stretched both arms in the air. "Here you are, trying to calm everybody down and now you've got 'em all upset." As if to punctuate his statement, a lab tech bumped a stack of PADDs with his elbow, sending them clattering to the floor. "Lovely. More work for my department."
"If your intent is to stand next to me complaining, I can assure you that your presence here will only exacerbate the situation." Spock raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I should have introduced the crew to another method."
"Like?" The Vulcan shoved a glowing PADD into McCoy's hands. "Homework? Oh, that's real soothing."
"Select the square on the bottom right."
McCoy glanced down at the screen. Several icons were visible, representing various computing programs. He tapped the small black square Spock had indicated and it grew to fill the screen. "Uh-oh. I think something's the matter with your file, Spock." He tapped the screen twice more, then shook the device, turning it back and forth in his hands and staring at it.
"You are incorrect, Doctor. The application is functioning correctly."
"Function…" McCoy's lips twisted. His jaw clenched. "It is, huh? And just what exactly is "it"? Or need I ask?" He set down the PADD and fisted his hands, leaning on the desk.
"Contemplative Silence. Specifically, the app." Spock didn't flinch. "It is rather convenient for having silence "on the go"." I find it particularly helpful during long duty shifts when it is impossible to leave my posting." He regarded McCoy with a concerned look. "Something from which I believe you would benefit as well, given the stressful nature of your position."
McCoy let out a long sigh. "And you think I ought to take a moment out of my busy schedule to stare into the fathomless depths of infinite blackness? Wouldn't it be easier to just close your eyes and plug your ears?"
"Hardly. As you yourself know, such an action would replace the clamor of sickbay with the sounds of one's own circulatory and muscular systems."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "Okay, you got me. But suppose while I'm spacing out on visions of nothing, some crisis happens and I can't respond to it 'cause I've got my head jammed in a black hole?" When Spock said nothing, McCoy leaned in until he was almost nose to nose with the Vulcan. "And what if that crisis is you?"
Spock tilted his head to one side. "Then I shall try not to hold it against you," he replied. "Were that to be the case, I would have only myself to blame."
McCoy straightened up. "Well, don't hold your breath," he chuckled, "'cause I'm not about to let that happen."
