Chapter 10: The Plot Thickens
However, when Kirk finally got through to the bridge, Spock was no longer there. It was Uhura in the centre seat.
"Uhura, this is Mr. Spock's duty watch isn't it?"
"Aye, it is, Captain. He left the bridge…" She paused to check, "five minutes ago."
"Did he give you a reason, Lieutenant?"
"No, sir. I thought…that is, I assumed, he was acting on your orders, Captain."
"How did he seem, Lieutenant?" Kirk kept his tone low-key, "Was he preoccupied, or… anxious?"
"Now that you mention it, he did seem more thoughtful than usual, even a little vague, sir."
The frown creasing Kirk's forehead deepened. "Put out a general call, Lieutenant Uhura. I want Mr Spock to report to sickbay immediately."
"Aye, sir."
Somewhere at the back of Spock's mind, there lingered the memory of leaving the bridge while still officially being on duty, but that knowledge held little meaning.
Deep in his own introspection, his eyes curiously unfocused, he strode deliberately into Engineering and without haste, made straight for the control computers where they were positioned partly screened by a grilled partition from the rest of the department.
Unobserved by the night crew he slipped behind the screen and began to unscrew the panel on one of the primary consoles. His lean and pallid features intense, Spock's long fingers played like a virtuoso over the closely packed banks of the central processing unit. Without question or alarm the computer continued to hum busily, relays clicking and beeping as his new instructions were assimilated. Outwardly, nothing changed. The telltales on the main boards went on blinking normally, the Enterprise deviated not one iota from her scheduled course; the note of the engines remained constant. However, thanks to Spock, the ship was a time bomb primed to explode, a bomb at the command of the Klingons.
Spock straightened from his task his eyes refocusing as the fugue passed and he was momentarily aware again of his surroundings. He stared at the uncovered console, his heart freezing in sudden cold terror, knowing instinctively what he had been about. A cry escaped him, cut short as pain discharged inside his skull, and he fell to his knees, his hands pressed to his temples as he tried to make sense of what he had done.
A voice shouted inside his mind, escape or die and everything around him started to dissolve. He knew that he could not stand before it long, his resolve swiftly melting, as panic swooped in to claim him. His heart was hammering so hard against his lower ribs that he half believed it would burst through flesh and bone. With a groan of despair, he reached back in among the connections and thyristor switching loops, his fingers trembling, his eyes dazed with pain, working blindly, fighting against the compulsion that held him. By the time he had fixed the panel back into place all memory of his previous actions had faded.
Drained, he rose from his knees, hand rubbing the back of his neck where pain coiled and twisted. When the footsteps sounded behind him he shivered with more than cold.
"Mr. Spock?" It was Montgomery Scott, the Chief Engineer, none too pleased apparently at the First Officer's intrusion into what he considered personal territory. "I didnae see ye enter."
"That is because you weren't meant to see me, Mr. Scott." Spock's brow arched as a smile briefly touched his lips. However there was nothing humorous about the look in his eyes. Dark and unwavering, they fixed menacingly on Scott.
The Chief Engineer's lips pursed, his Scottish burr hardly noticeable, but his anger quite plain. "Oh, I wasnae was I. And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Your Departments' results in the last series of battle drills have been sadly lacking, Mr. Scott. I came to find out why."
"You were spying?" Scott's voice was no longer angry, it was outraged. "Why you green blooded excuse for a …"
Spock's eyebrow flared upwards as Scott choked back the rest of what he was about to say. "Please, continue, Mr. Scott. I understand how Humans need to 'blow off steam', especially when frustrated by events. Is that not correct?"
Scotty's lips tightened. It wasn't just steam he wanted to blow off. Not that the First Officer would particularly miss that part of his anatomy, although recent gossip on the all-talk channel had intimated otherwise! However, he knew that Spock was only waiting for the slightest excuse to put him on a charge. Probably working on it right now from the expression – or lack of it – on the first officer's face. One more rash word and he would not see the outside of the brig for the next few days.
He wondered silently what had got into the First Officer. The Vulcan certainly had acquired a devil on his shoulder since returning to the ship. Perhaps his behaviour was due to 'woman trouble' as scuttlebutt none too discreetly implied, although Scott could not quite believe in that explanation. Spock had never before been swayed by any female as far as Scotty knew, though the First Officer had a strange effect on many of them; Nurse Chapel being a case in point with her daft infatuation. He had always thought that a serious waste of a good woman, often wondering why Spock continued to let it go on. It would only need a word or two to end Chapel's misery and let her move on.
However, Nurse Chapel apart, though they had never become friends, Scott had more than a sneaking regard for the Vulcan. Spock was a perfectionist, a trait Scotty admired, amd had little patience for indolence, ineptitude, or negligence. If Spock thought some young crewmember was shirking their responsibility, he made sure they knew about it, and none too gently. Exactly as Scott would do. But to run the whole ship ragged with drills and sneak inspections and then to come down to Engineering to spy on his Department as if he was still wet behind the ears…! That he would not abide.
If that's what he had truly been about. Scotty's eyes narrowed as he thought back to the start of the encounter. Spock had been doing something to the control computer, had he not? Abruptly suspicious, his glance slid past the First Officer and settled on the primary console panel.
Spock's eyes smouldered, Mephistopheles incarnate, lips thinned to a bloodless line. "Is there something more I can do for you, Mr. Scott?"
Scott had a sudden fancy that all the First Officer needed was a pair of horns and a pitchfork, and he might believe he had died and gone directly to Hell. He pushed away the image and cut directly to the point. "Don't give me any of that bullshit about battle drills, Mr. Spock. You were fiddlin' wi' control. Deny it if ye can."
Spock surfaced as if from a bad dream to find himself in what appeared to be a heated conversation with Chief Engineer Scott, heated on Scott's side only he trusted, groaning inwardly, for he could recall absolutely nothing of the conversation so far.
" Control…?" He repeated, hoping that Scott would elucidate further. What was happening to him?
"Aye, Mr. Spock, ye heard me the first time, I'm thinkin'. What were you about when I chanced across ye just now?"
Abruptly, Uhura's voice, coming over the intercom, cut through the tension. Bridge to Mr. Spock. Mr. Spock, please acknowledge."
Massaging the back of his neck, and ignoring Scott, Spock crossed to the wall unit and punched the control. "Spock here, Lieutenant."
"Mr Spock, Captain Kirk orders you to report to sickbay immediately." Crisply professional, Uhura's voice lacked any emotional overtones. "Doctor McCoy is waiting. Uhura out."
The illogical fear returned with a vengeance, overwhelming him with even less warning than on the previous occasions – the ones he was able to recall at all. In an instant, his attention focused entirely on the speaker grid as the room faded out, diluting into vagueness. Terror rushed at him from out of the murk, stark wings of apprehension, thrashing wildly about him…
Spock heard himself whispering the words of T'lala's prayer as if it were a talisman against the dark.
Sho'eyb chiorehn angsar ikat,
Essar sujatah' sondeth rai-mai,
Tsoi ryhas moha ridh asaht,
Pailinh kantha chah'karavai…
Oblivious to Scotty, he leaned his forehead against the cool metal and plastic of the bulkhead, pressing the heels of his hands against his throbbing temples, his scalp on fire. The cry rang in his ears, escape or die.
Footsteps came echoing out of the fog as Scotty crossed the deck. "What ails ye, man?"
Spock frowned, eyes closed fast, enmeshed in a torment of shame and confusion that rapidly dragged him into unknown depths.
Scott reached out as if to touch him on the shoulder. "Are ye ill, is that it? D'ye need help gettin' to sickbay?"
Scott's voice reverberated through Spock's skull, resounding in his ears. He jerked away from the Chief's fingers staggering back against the bulkhead.
"Do not touch me, Mr. Scott."
"Verra well, I'll not be lendin' a hand where it's not wanted, y'ken. However, ye canna continue as ye are. I'll be sendin' for Doctor McCoy."
Dizzy, bemused, the roaring in his ears growing louder as his panic increased, Spock fought against the rising tide of psychosis.
"No." He clenched his teeth on the word, vaguely aware of the thin sheen of sweat on his face, of his jagged breathing, T'lala's Way repeating in his mind,
Once thee know when to withdraw thee has strength.
The moment thee has strength thee can be serene
After thee has liberty thee can reflect
As soon as thee prepares thee can attain thy purpose…
He had to find a way to stop this madness. It was certain he could not continue as he was. Reluctant to admit the truth, Spock realised he needed Doctor McCoy's help. He wrenched away from the bulkhead, focused on Scotty, "Thank you, Mr. Scott. I am quite able to make my own way to sickbay…"
"Are ye sure, man?"
"Quite sure." He swayed, steadied himself, voices whispering sibilantly within his skull, thinking only of the curious stares, the busy mouths that would spread this news throughout the ship should anyone see him. Aware of Scott's eyes on his retreating back he made it to the door and from there to the turbo lift. The doors whooshed shut behind him as he reached for the control horn, his knuckles yellowing at the tightness of his grip.
He snapped out a single command. "Sickbay."
Scotty waited until the Vulcan First Officer disappeared into the corridor before moving to the wall communicator. Hesitating briefly, he finally reached for the control button, uncertain whether he was over-reacting. "Scott to bridge."
Kirk had just arrived from his quarters. "Yes, Mr. Scott."
"Captain…" Scotty paused, shaking his head as he recalled Spock's strange behaviour, before continuing hurriedly. "I thought ye ought to know…"
"Know what, Scotty?"
"I found Mr. Spock in Engineering, sir. He didnae look in the best of health and I believe he may ha' meddled with the computer, Captain!"
"Are you sure about that, Mr. Scott?"
"As sure as I can be, sir. I found him near the primary console and he wouldnae explain what he was doin'."
"Is Mr. Spock there now?"
"No, Captain. He said he was goin' to sickbay…as ordered. He wouldnae let me help him, sir."
"Uh-huh." Kirk thought that over for an instant. It sounded very like the Spock he knew and he retained a slight hope that his First Officer was still marginally in control, though if he was suffering from the effects of another pon-farr, it might be tenuous at best. "Very well, Scotty. I'll handle it from here. Kirk out."