9.
Scott came out of the turbolift onto the bridge of the Enterprise, looking for the captain. Kirk was sitting in his big chair in the centre, his chin resting on one hand, staring at, and straight through the stars on the viewscreen before him. The engineer went lightly down the steps to Kirk's chair, and held out the fuel consumption report to him.
'Begging your pardon, Captain, but can ye sign this, sir?'
The captain jumped, and tightened his hand around the report pad, taking it from Scotty's grasp.
'Thanks, Spock – I mean, Scotty,' Kirk corrected himself quickly. He read the report briefly, then signed at the bottom. 'I'm sorry. I was a million miles away.'
'They've only been gone a week, sir,' Scott reminded him. 'It's not that long.'
'I know,' he said quietly. 'I'm just worried about Spock at the moment. And – well – it seems empty without them here, fighting behind my chair, or standing by my side. Chekov's excellent at the science station – but he's not Spock. I know it's sometimes annoying having him give you time to the exact millisecond, measurements to the last millimetre, but it's – reassuring. And I trust the doctors in sickbay, but I'd rather have McCoy down there treating my crew.'
'Aye. Well, they'll be back soon, Captain, when Mr Spock's better,' the engineer said comfortingly.
'Will they, Scotty?' he asked, looking up at him. 'I've just got a bad feeling that they're going to get up to something and need our help. When Spock and Bones go off in a ship I didn't even know about until I read Spock's licence for it, even to a place like Vulcan, I'm sure they'll get into some kind of trouble – intentional or not.' He paused, then added with a guilty look on his face, 'That's why I slipped a location bug into Spock's suitcase.'
'A location bug?' Scott echoed. 'Are ye really that worried? Where are they, sir?'
Kirk gave a shrug, and looked even more guilty. 'On Vulcan, like they said they'd be, at the address of the couple who adopted baby T'Si. They went straight there, without any diversions or trouble. They've stayed there a few days – except for one trip out to the Vulcan desert – to Pnauh'Kmaghe – but it's natural that Spock would want to go over there and see how it's going – how much they've found out from Suaniak about his world's history.'
'Won't Mr Spock be annoyed when he finds it, sir?' Scott asked in a low voice.
'Don't let him hear you insult him like that,' Kirk grinned. 'Spock doesn't get annoyed. And he won't find it. I hid it pretty well.'
'If all they've been doing is a wee tour of Vulcan, it looks like you've got nothing to worry about, sir,' Scott said with a reassuring smile.
'I hope so, Scotty,' Kirk replied, shaking his head. 'I hope so.'
******
McCoy opened his eyes, and blinked slowly, adjusting them to the light. He rolled over, stretched lazily, and pushed the covers down off his body – then he sat bolt upright, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He looked across to Spock's bed. It was empty, neatly made, as if it had never been slept in. He realised Spock had repaid his favour of that morning, by arranging McCoy's head on the pillow, and folding the covers over him when he fell asleep on his bed, deliberately making him as comfortable as possible so he wouldn't wake up.
'Why in hell did I let myself fall asleep?' he fumed quietly. 'It wasn't as if *I* was up all night.'
McCoy tidied his sleep-rumpled hair and creased clothes in front of the mirror, then stormed through into the Vulcan sitting room, mustering all his anger to vent on Spock. When he came into the room, there was only T'Laani there, sitting on a low settee, feeding T'Si. She looked up at his noisy entry, taking care to keep the baby quiet.
'Where is he?' the doctor demanded.
'You mean Spock?' the woman asked with a raised eyebrow.
'You know damn well I mean Spock. I'm beginning to feel as if I should handcuff him to me, and me to a stout tree.'
'That seems an illogical and needless thing to do – not to mention a most undignified solution. He has gone to meet a guest,' she said softly. 'He called her through communications, and she is transporting in now.'
'She? Who she? What she?'
'I do not know her name. He did not privilege me with that information. He is only outside, at our transporter pad,' she said, nodding towards the door with an air of great tolerance.
'How long has he been up? How long was he asleep?'
The woman blinked. 'Three point five three hours. And for the first enquiry - fifteen point five nine minutes.'
As she finished her sentence the tall Vulcan First Officer swept into the room, followed by a young woman. McCoy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The girl that had glided into the room after Spock had naturally coppery hair, and very green eyes. She wore a slim, flowing dress that reached down to her ankles. She looked only about twenty years old, but was as tall as Spock, with a face as serious and intent.
'Doctor, this is my niece,' Spock said, nodding towards the girl. 'To be quite precise, she is the daughter of my cousin, but in the Vulcan language we would use the same word as that for niece.'
'T'Syan's daughter?' McCoy asked. 'I thought T'Syan's children were – well – I thought she lost her family in the Pzyioman attack. I thought they were young.'
Spock looked exasperated.
'She is not the daughter of T'Syan. I have more than one cousin.'
'I see. Well,' he said with a friendly smile. 'Good morning, Spock's niece.'
He held out his hand to her, but she ignored it, shrinking from skin contact as any Vulcan would. She merely nodded her head once, then looked up again.
'Thank you, Dr McCoy,' she said in a voice that was monotone, but surprisingly soft and gentle. 'No doubt you are curious about my presence here?'
Then McCoy realised he had seen this girl before. She was one of the poker-faced scientists that were hovering about Pnauh'Kmaghe. She had been dressed differently then, with her hair pulled back and held on her head with a gracefully wound headscarf, and he had hardly seen her face for more than a glance.
'I was wondering,' he said.
'I do not think two people should be the total crew of the ship all the way to the Romulan Empire,' Spock explained. 'My niece will assist.'
'Spock, you keep calling her that,' McCoy protested. He looked toward the woman with a charming smile. 'Such an attractive young lady should have a name.'
'You appear to be experiencing a typically human surge of hormonal activity at my appearance, Dr McCoy,' the girl said quietly. 'I realise it is a natural function of your body, but I have chosen a male to be my consort.'
'Of course. I'm sorry,' he said, his cheeks reddening. 'I know it's like that with all Vulcans. But you do have a name?'
'Of course,' the girl nodded. 'My name is Alison, Doctor.'
'Alison?' McCoy repeated, his eyes widening.
'I believe that is what I said. Alison Grayson.'
Realisation swept over him, She had the same surname as Spock's human mother. He looked again at the girl's face, closer this time. Her expression was the same deadpan one that every Vulcan wore. She wore make-up in the Vulcan fashion, but her copper hair tumbled down over her shoulders, hiding her ears, and her eyebrows were rounded, like a human's, under the make-up which made them appear upswept. Add that to the hair colour, and green eyes instead of deep brown…
'You're human!' he exclaimed.
'Did you not realise?' she asked calmly.
The doctor turned on Spock. 'Spock, you said she was your niece.'
'I do have human relatives, Doctor,' Spock said distantly, as if half wishing he hadn't.
He turned back to the woman, looking honestly bewildered. 'But – you seem so – '
'Vulcan?' The girl gave a slight smile. 'I've lived on the planet all my life, Doctor. It does tend to rub off on you. I have learnt in Vulcan schools since I was born. A human education, of course, but still taught by Vulcan teachers. And to walk around smiling and laughing on Vulcan is frowned upon in the same way that nudity is frowned upon on Earth. I am pledged to marry a Vulcan man, I have been brought up to live a Vulcan life.'
'You poor girl,' McCoy said with earnest sympathy.
'It is what I'm used to, Doctor,' she said serenely. 'I'm more Vulcan than I am human. Of course, I don't have the telepathic ability, or the brilliant mind, but I do have an intelligence above average. I've learnt the language since birth, and adhere to the customs of Vulcan, even as far as the marriage ceremony and raising of Vulcan children. Earth is merely the place where my genes originated. I have never been there.'
'Wouldn't you like to?' he asked curiously. 'It's a beautiful planet. One of the best.'
'I have heard that it is very - different - to Vulcan,' she said carefully. 'I may visit one day, but it is pointless to speculate over the future.'
'She's your niece, all right,' the doctor muttered to Spock. 'Vulcan to the core. Her consort's a lucky man.'
'Thank you for the compliment,' Alison said, bowing her head slightly. 'If you will excuse me, I think I will go to the ship, Spock, and look over your facilities and equipment there.'
Spock nodded his permission. 'Yes, it's best you familiarise yourself with the equipment before we leave.'
She turned away from them and walked gracefully through the door. The ripples of movement in her dress made the material shimmer and seem to change colour as she stepped from under the artificial light to the light of Vulcan's huge red sun.
******
McCoy and Cikita watched from one of the console seats as Spock and Alison carefully manoeuvred a large, heavy looking casket into position on the bridge of the Alcyone. The casket was roughly a metre square, its shape and appearance suggesting it was made of some kind of crystal. The shining surfaces and deep cracks inside glowed and reflected faint purple light, almost as if the object was alive.
A space had been cleared in the centre of the floor before the captain's chair. Now a socket-like device that the Vulcan and Alison had constructed was fixed firmly to the floor panels, with multi-coloured wires leading to and from it at all angles, connecting it with the consoles. McCoy had no idea what any of them were for, and didn't feel like asking, and having to bear one of Spock's explanations. Spock and his niece were now engrossed in trying to fit the crystal into the snug socket. McCoy had offered to help with the carrying, but had been turned down with a polite, 'No thank you.'
'Just because he thinks I'm a weak human who can't be trusted with such delicate machinery,' he muttered to the cat.
Cikita narrowed her green eyes, and they both glared at the Vulcan – McCoy because he liked to see how much he could get on Spock's nerves without actually saying anything, and Cikita because she wasn't allowed to help with the moving.
'I beg your pardon, Doctor?' Spock asked, resting the crystal on the edge of the command chair, and taking a moment to look up at the doctor.
'I said, what special skill have you got that makes you so much better than me at moving that hunk of machinery about?'
'It is large and difficult to get a grasp on,' Spock told him. 'And it is not machinery. There are no mechanics involved. It is a crystal.'
'What about that plug thing?'
'That involves electronics, not mechanics,' Spock said patiently. 'It requires much delicacy to get the crystal into its correct position, which is why Alison is helping me. We must not crack it.'
'Looks cracked already, to me,' McCoy said, conscious of the double meaning of his statement.
'Those are natural fissures that formed when the crystal evolved,' Spock explained. 'They are part of its design.'
'You said it evolved. How can something that evolved be designed?' he argued irritatingly.
Spock decided to put the crystal down, so he could answer all of McCoy's questions in one go. He let it down slowly onto the floor beside the socket, and stood straight.
'Doctor, this crystal is the casket that will hold Suaniak's consciousness. For it to do so, it must possess certain elements, certain peculiarities.'
'It's peculiar all right,' he muttered.
'Suaniak grew the crystal from the original ones in Pnauh'Kmaghe,' Spock continued, ignoring McCoy's comment. 'This is his power source for the journey.'
'Like dilithium crystals?'
'Not like dilithium crystals, but like dilithium crystals are to the Enterprise, and to this ship. Suaniak will also live in it, as Sargon of Arret did, in his own receptacle. I am sure you remember that.'
'Oh, that. I'd forgotten,' McCoy said sarcastically, looking up toward the ceiling. 'Of *course* I remember. D'you think I'd forget Henoch trying to steal your body and take over the Enterprise? He almost made me commit suicide with my own hypo-spray.'
'Yes,' Spock nodded. 'As I recall, I saved your life.'
'Christine Chapel saved my life,' McCoy corrected him tersely. 'She took the hypo. You were just along for the ride in her brain, poor child. It's bad enough living with you, without having you invading people's minds. I'm surprised she didn't need counselling.'
'As I recall, she quite enjoyed it,' Spock said, his eyes on the crystal at his feet. 'It was I who found co-existing with such torrents of irrational emotion and total illogic difficult.'
'Spock,' Alison broke in apologetically. 'We must put the crystal in place. We have a limited time before Suaniak's reserve power fails.'
'You mean he's in that thing already?' McCoy asked.
'He transferred to it this morning,' she nodded.
She lifted the crystal up with Spock's help, and they held it balanced over the irregularly shaped socket, lining it up with great care. Then they lowered it down, and Alison carefully guided it into the socket, adjusting it until it fit snugly. Spock looked it over, nodded in apparent satisfaction, and hit a switch on the science console. Immediately, the light in the crystal began to glow brighter, pulsing slowly with new energy.
'I take it the transmission was successful.' Suaniak's voice came from somewhere inside the crystal.
'It was successful, father,' Spock nodded.
'Congratulations, my son, and human daughter.'
'Don't I get any credit?' McCoy asked plaintively from the back of the bridge.
'You didn't do anything,' Spock reminded him.
'Only because you wouldn't let me,' he complained. 'And I kept the cat from wrapping itself round your legs and tripping you up while you did it. If I'm going to risk my life on this mission, I ought to at least get some of the credit.'
Then he remembered Suaniak asking Spock if he could reduce him to power, and fell into silence.
'The probability of you getting killed, Doctor, is – ' Spock began.
'Don't,' McCoy said firmly. 'I don't want to know how likely it is you'll have to send my charred remains home in a jar. I'd just like some gratitude.'
'Thank you, McCoy,' the deep voice intoned from the crystal.
Suaniak's acknowledgement surprised him. It was the first time that the ancient Vulcan had spoken to him with some respect, using his name.
'I am sure you are destined to play a great part in this mission,' he continued.
'At least someone appreciates that,' he said in a hurt tone. 'So.' He squared his hands on his hips and faced the Vulcan. 'When are we going, Spock?'
'Tomorrow, Doctor, at 0400 hours.'
McCoy's eyes widened. 'Four o'clock in the morning? Good God, Spock, can't you chose some reasonable time to start off? If we're going to probably get killed, we may as well have a last lie-in before it happens.'
'It is the only time that the Vulcan authorities will let us leave, Doctor,' Spock said patiently. 'I will, of course, try to delay that time. We must leave tomorrow, but I prefer to have as much time to prepare as possible. And you are quite welcome to sleep on the ship, and stay in your cabin when we take off,' he offered. 'Your presence is hardly necessary during take-off procedures.'
McCoy shot a glance at him, trying to work out if he had been insulted. He decided to change the subject rather than begin an argument.
'What about shielding?' he asked. 'And does this thing even have weapons, Spock?'
'Yes, we do own limited phaser banks,' Spock nodded, 'and I am sure you saw the hand phasers and power packs in the emergency locker when you acquainted yourself with safety procedures.'
'Oh, of course,' McCoy nodded, not meeting the Vulcan's eyes.
The doctor hadn't bothered to physically inspect the emergency escape-pods or the weapons locker when he came on board the ship. Not expecting to encounter trouble of any kind on the short journey to Vulcan, he had simply looked through the medical cabinets, then curled up on his bed with a book in the time Spock allowed him to go over the safety procedures. He fully intended to familiarise himself with them now, however.
'But don't forget the Romulans' cloaking shields,' he pointed out.
'I will take care of you,' Suaniak's voice promised from the crystal. 'I can shield your ship, and defend it from attackers.'
'Great,' the doctor said under his breath.
McCoy left the bridge to find exactly where the survival suits, oxygen supplies, and phasers were stored, and from where the emergency escape-pods were released. He had been on the Enterprise five weeks ago when Suaniak had reached out from his tomb to repair Enterprise's damage after being attacked by a Pzyioman ship. He had seen bodies brought back to life, and rips in metal seal themselves. But he'd still rather trust the firm, safe, solid escape-pods over a voice from a glowing crystal, no matter how powerful.
******
'Here.'
Haian stopped proudly at the bottom of a large depression in the middle of a Romulan wood. Janas pushed through the clinging, thorny branches of the surrounding dagger-trees, and slipped down the edge of the dip.
'Here?' she echoed, wiping clinging orange mud off her hands. 'What is here? A hole in a forest. It is not impressive, Haian. We have walked half a day to get here.'
'It was not so long. This is where we will meet Him, Janas. This is where we will meet the Vulcan, and his companions.'
'This is a rubbish hole,' Janas said firmly, trying to keep him in firm touch with reality. 'It is a clay pit. This is where weeds grow, and rotten branches fall, and where fungus of every kind sprouts from the ground. It is hardly the place to meet a god.'
'I did not say he would be a god,' Haian argued. 'I have yet to hear of a god piloting a spacecraft. But I know this is where he will come.'
'That may be,' Janas agreed reluctantly.
She had eventually agreed to try meditation with her brother, and had felt things in her mind, as he had sworn he did. She did not tell him that she felt some things clearer than he had ever described, and had seen this clearing in vivid detail while she sat with her eyes closed. Once, as it was now, dirty, overgrown, weed-choked. And once with a gleaming white spaceship nestling in the hollow, the top almost hidden from view by the steep sides and over hanging trees.
'But how will a ship stay hidden here for long?' she asked, forcing herself to be sceptical.
No matter how much she wanted to, and did, believe in this, she also wanted to try to give a rational argument. It was getting harder. She had already convinced herself that no one had put hallucinogenic drugs in her drink before meditation, and there were very few explanations left for what had happened.
'They will stay hidden,' Haian promised her. 'They will have ways. Powers we do not understand.'
'The Federation has not developed an invisibility shield,' she pointed out. 'How can the Vulcans hide their ship even from our sensors?'
'He is an ancient one. I know that. He is not like the others – but he will bring one like the others. Someone who is of our blood. A brother or sister, Janas,' he said with excitement in his voice.
'Most likely a brother,' she said cynically.
'They have always said that you have the look of a Vulcan,' Haian reminded her. 'With your long dark hair, and eyes that are brown, not grey.'
'I – have seen the images clearer than you,' she admitted in a low voice, 'just as I sometimes feel thoughts and moods before a person speaks. And sometimes, in secret, I have felt more Vulcan than Romulan. I have my loyalty to my planet – as every one of us has – but I am never sure if I belong as you do.'
'I have wished that we could take a ship, and fly up to the stars to meet them,' Haian said, looking up to the sky like a child with a dream. 'I would like to see the stars once – to see our planet from space.'
'If you took a ship up there you would be either banished or imprisoned,' Janas said with cold practicality. 'You know how difficult it is to get permission to own a private ship – and then get the money to buy one. Our government is not the most generous one, nor the most at ease. You could enter the military forces, Haian, if you wished to see the stars.'
'I do not wish to kill or be killed while I do that.'
'You could enter as a physician, or a scientist,' she argued.
'And be made to develop lethal gases, or fatal injections – or simply be killed when our ship is attacked.'
'Those are the dangers that our sister Sanah faces each day,' Janas reminded him. 'It is a selfish thought, but I hope sometimes for her to survive so I will not be forced to kill.'
'They would not force you into the service, Janas,' Haian reassured her. 'They take only one from each family.'
Janas sank down onto a half rotten log, and began picking the soft brown bark off with her fingernails.
'They are talking of taking two. Taking replacements. I will be the eldest.'
'They are always talking, and you know they always find another thing to talk about.' He sat down beside her and surveyed the clearing again, helping her scrape the bark off the log. 'We must think of what we know will happen soon. We will meet a Vulcan, and he will come here. We must be prepared. We must think of ways to excuse journeys into the forest, should we be asked.'
'We have always taken walks in the forest. This will invite no suspicion.'
'Very well. What of hiding these people among our own? What will they eat?'
'I am sure a spacecraft will have its own supplies. Haian, you are far too concerned over things we cannot decide yet. We can only return home, and listen to the thoughts we feel, and wait.'
