Spock was bent over the console, his fingers playing a light, rapid staccato. Kirk watched, eyes fixed on the monitor, the silence broken only by McCoy, who emerged from the back of the cabin to say,
"What's going on?"
"Better get to sleep, Bones," Kirk said, without turning round. "You're already late."
"Not till you tell me what's going on."
"Romulan space control is asking who we are."
McCoy came nearer.
"I thought we were supposed to be invisible."
"We are. We're also getting nearer to the homeworld and that means more traffic. This is not a security check, it's more like automated traffic control – we need to book a slot without raising awareness of our existence as such. Otherwise, people will bump into us. You wouldn't like that."
"And that's what Spock's supposed to be doing? Pretending to be a shuttle navigation system? Well, that's a relief and I can go back to sleep without worrying. He could do it in his sleep, Jim. Man's much better at pretending to be a computer than pretending to be human."
"Doctor," from Spock, in the words of a quotation, "you forget, I am not-"
"- human," McCoy finished. "Never, Spock. I can safely promise you I never forget it. Not once. Ever. Goodnight, Jim."
Kirk allowed himself a smile of ancient memory and in the silence that followed McCoy's departure, Spock straightened and said,
"The shuttle systems are now working within Romulan space control matrices and our course trajectory should cause no problem, sir."
"Thank you, Commander," Kirk said.
"Moreover," Spock continued, "now that we are sufficiently close to Romulus, it would be possible without undue risk of detection to attempt encrypted communication with the frequency formerly used by Commander Colton."
"Set up a relay message, Spock. Just a twenty four hour loop, nothing more frequent. So if anyone at all is using the frequency, they will know we are here."
Spock nodded without reply and turned back to the console.
Kirk sat down, eyes still on Spock, still with a slight smile for the absent doctor. Without warning, as he straightened against the back of the chair, he heard McCoy's voice, followed by Spock's.
A vessel this size cannot be run by one computer.
We are attempting to prove it can run this ship more efficiently than man.
When was that? Bob Wesley's face swam before him, McCoy and a tray with two glasses on it. Did you see the love light in Spock's eyes? The right computer finally came along.
The whole sorry episode replayed itself in his mind, start to finish, from the eerie experience of commanding a crew of 20 on his Enterprise through to the deaths of the captain and first officer of the Excalibur. Jack Harris had been a friend of Kirk's from Academy days – both from Iowa, they had formed an easy and undemanding bond, had enjoyed the banter of mock-competition (and real competition) over career progress and also enjoyed occasionally crossing paths in remote starbases until Harris had been blown into small pieces by Kirk's ship, under the control of M5. He tended to think of it as "the M5 time" or as Jack's death, but he knew that Spock would reckon it by stardate.
It could tell you a lot about a person, how they referred to things. Kirk knew of old that if you asked Scotty if he'd had a good leave, he'd tell you about the bars he had visited and the quality of the alcohol, with particular reference to anything approximating to his beloved whisky. If you asked McCoy, he would almost certainly come up with a list of shortcomings – about how impossible it was to really enjoy yourself in deep space (Call that a holiday, Jim?), about the people (It's a miracle that lot ever got into space) and about the fact that he'd had to beam somewhere just to start the process. Conversely, on the one or two occasions when the ship's CMO had managed to combine shore leave with particularly beautiful scenery or when he'd actually managed to meet someone whose company he'd enjoyed, he would go very quiet and smile and say little.
Kirk wasn't sure if he were able to apply the test to himself. He suspected, though, that there were two key reference points in any story – where was his ship and what was the human cost? So he would think about that time I lost control of the Enterprise and Jack Harris died.
Spock? Spock, he suspected, would think of it as Stardate… Well, he would put it to the test.
"Spock?"
"Captain?"
"I have been thinking of our encounter with Richard Daystrom."
"You are referring," said Spock, on a rare occasion when he was entirely unaware of the significance of his words, "to the events of Stardate 4729.4."
Kirk let out a breath, not quite a sigh, not quite an acknowledgement. The chronicler of stardates became aware that, whilst the significance of his words still escaped him, significance there had been. He cast his commanding officer a slightly puzzled, questioning glance.
Kirk was silent for a minute, and then said, somewhat in a rush, as though the words had been held up, waiting for the opening,
"I always wondered if we hadn't both got something wrong, back there."
Spock finished setting controls and turned back to him.
"Are you able to elucidate, sir?"
Kirk studied his hands briefly, and then looked up and said to the console,
"Took you a while, that's all."
Vulcan eyes considered him.
"Are you seeking to indicate that the length of time before which I concluded –?"
"Yes." A single monosyllabic interruption, and a lack of appetite to listen to a translation into Vulcan of what was, to Kirk, a perfectly simple and obvious summary. Yes, it had taken him a while.
It had taken a long while. He remembered now that Spock had known about M5 from the beginning. Even before Wesley's briefing. He had said - The most ambitious computer complex ever created. Its purpose is to correlate all computer activity aboard a starship, to provide the ultimate in vessel operation and control. He, Kirk, had fallen gradually more silent from the very beginning, from Wesley's cheerful insouciance, Daystrom's bizarre, off-beat communications through to that moment in his quarters with McCoy when he admitted to being at odds with his ship. A thing of no little moment for James T Kirk, who was arguably closer to his ship than to most members of his family; closer than he was to a working knowledge of rather more Starfleet Regulations than he would admit; closer than to his own fingertips. Kirk, who could function better with a broken leg than a damaged warp coil and who was not always as clear as he might have been where his own consciousness ended and where the navigation system of the Enterprise began.
One of the many foundations on which Kirk's friendship for Spock was built was their common love for the ship. Of course, the love wasn't common because Vulcans have no emotions, and because even were that not the case, it would be illogical to entertain them for an instrument of transport, for dilithium crystal-powered warp engines, for bridge and brig, for deck and desk. It was nevertheless the case that the Enterprise had always been both child and parent to the bond between the two men – a third party ghost at every game of chess, every shore leave, every briefing. Kirk might have had the lead in the almost physical attachment he bore for his ship, but he would look to Spock every time danger came to share focus and awareness.
And yet Spock's Vulcan version of enthusiasm on being informed of the nature of the M5 mission had been followed by a Vulcan version of hero worship for Daystrom - Fascinating, Doctor. This computer has a potential beyond anything you've ever done. An early course change merited the comment – M5 has performed admirably, causing the Vulcan's captain to bite back (with a tone no less sharp for being unspoken) a comment to the effect that it was illogical to admire a computer. Instead, he had said he would run the ship his own way and Spock had actually sided with Daystrom – His computer could have brought us here as easily as the navigator. Machine over man. First, Chekhov, Spock's own protégé, next….? That had provoked his first retort – he had accused Spock of enjoying the situation and Spock had immediately retreated from Effusive Vulcan to a smooth reference to efficiencies. It still hadn't stopped him agreeing with Daystrom about Kirk's use of language - Captain, the computer does not judge. It makes logical selections.
The truth was that Spock had only changed his mind about M5 when he had first started to realise something was wrong. M5 had started shutting down systems all over the ship, and Spock had suddenly changed tone. It appears to me this unit is drawing more power than before. Daystrom had drawn an analogy with the needs of the human body at rest or at work and Spock had turned in a heart-beat from M5 fan to ship's Science Officer and said, Doctor, this unit is not a human body. The computer can process information, but only the information which is put into it.
He had said the words which meant the most to Kirk. He had given Kirk the gift which he would carry around with him the rest of his life like a medal, like a benison - Computers make excellent and efficient servants, but I have no wish to serve under them. Captain, the starship also runs on loyalty to one man, and nothing can replace it, or him.
But the truth was he had only done so after he had realised that Daystrom's machine was flawed.
Yes. It had taken him a while.
Spock said, carefully,
"At the point when it became clear that M5 was defective, it was essential for the safety of all personnel that the experiment should be terminated as a matter of urgency. Before that time, Captain, it would have been not only contrary to orders but also illogical to do anything but support the effort to determine the capacity of the machine."
"Contrary to orders and also illogical. I guess it doesn't get much worse than that," Kirk said drily.
"Are you suggesting I should have acted otherwise, sir?"
Was he?
Kirk met the dark, enquiring eyes opposite him, wondered briefly about the conversation he was getting into, and then said, almost impatiently,
"It's not about following orders or not following orders, Spock. It's about what you believe. Supposing M5 had not been flawed. Would that have been a better outcome? Where were you going with that, exactly?"
"Had the experiment been successful, Dr Daystrom would have established the capacity of the machine. There is no logic in not pursuing an experiment to its natural conclusion, Captain, nor in declining to expand the totality of knowledge to the fullest extent possible. That has no bearing on my views as to the desirability of Constitution Class vessels being placed under the command of computers. I believe you are aware of my views in that regard."
"Is that so?" An unblinking hazel stare met the Vulcan gaze. "You surprise me, Commander. Not a very teleological standpoint. Are you suggesting that all forms – all forms – of knowledge should be pursued, experientially?"
Spock looked wary, and waited.
"How long a human being could survive in the polar ice cap without thermal clothing? What is the probability of survival with sanity for a single crewman in a spacesuit abandoned with a good supply of food and oxygen in the Neutral Zone? Would you survive longer under Klingon or Romulan torture?"
"Captain, these scenarios are hardly comparable –"
"No," Kirk agreed. "They are not. However, it is singularly dangerous to invent and test drive a machine with the purpose of establishing its capacity to run a starship if you happen not to believe that this is a good idea. Worse than dangerous, Mr Spock, it is illogical. What do you think of that?"
Into the space between them, Kirk's own personal nightmare. Worse than what had actually transpired. What if M5 had actually worked?
Spock said: "You are assuming alternative extreme examples, Captain. Your approach suggests that the result might either have been failure or else the development of technology which would have been substituted for humanoid command of starships. However, the success of the experiment need not have led to such a definitive change. It is likely that, for reasons discussed at the time, the role of the senior command crew would have remained unaltered but with the benefit of significantly advanced intelligent on-board systems."
"For reasons discussed at the time? Spock, you're displaying an uncharacteristic naivety. You and I both know that technology is a Pandora's box. And," allowing a softening of his features in the direction of his First, "the fact that the disadvantages of such a development might have become apparent to certain members of the senior crew serving under the commanding officer involved the M5 experiment does not mean that Starfleet Command would have been moved in the same way, given how moving they might also have felt the implications for future budget and resources."
"The comprehensive replacement of commanding officers would have had implications far beyond budget and resources," said the representative of the senior crew in question. Kirk shrugged impatiently.
"So you said at the time and you won't find any disagreement from me. But that's not really the point here, Spock. The point is that Daystrom was about to hand them an invitation in gold copperplate to cut all staffing budgets. To have machines in charge of strategy, of diplomacy – of every endeavour to seek out new life forms and new civilisations. With your very enthusiastic endorsement. Until it all went wrong."
Spock retreated, almost visibly.
"Captain, your approach would constitute a very considerable deterrence from the conduct of future scientific experiments."
Hazel and dark eyes met, clashed stubbornly.
Another memory presented itself to Kirk, out of nowhere. Spock's hands on the Nomad probe. I am performing my function, he had said. I am the other. We are complete. Not for the first time, he speculated as to his First Officer's ability to communicate across the divide. At the time, he had been afraid, too worried about Spock's safety to have the time to reflect on what the mind meld had truly meant, but afterwards it had troubled him. There had been other examples, not least the most recent and momentous, V'Ger – but Kirk still shied away from that particular memory. The mind-melds he himself had shared with Spock over the years had been characterised by a feeling of mutuality, of a deep and profound shared understanding, of an avenue to a deeper knowledge of an alien mind which happened to be the most familiar of all to Kirk.
How did it feel to Spock to undergo that experience with a machine? How was it even possible?
He said now, feeling his way,
"You said it yourself, Spock. Computers are about supporting human beings, not the other way around. The pursuit of science can't be an over-riding objective. Surely mankind comes first?"
"Captain, one of the purposes of the pursuit of scientific knowledge is to improve the life of man."
"What are the others?"
"It would be logical," Spock said gently, "to assume that you yourself would agree that the pursuit of knowledge is an objective in itself. To learn more, to know what there is to know. Was not that at the heart of the five year mission?"
"You are sounding," Kirk said dangerously, "more and more like V'Ger."
There was a brief, taut silence, and then he went on,
"Machine can be enemy to man, Spock. You and I know that very well. We saw that not only in M5 but also Nomad."
"Both instances of computers whose true purpose and function had been distorted by interference from external sources, sir."
"And yet," Kirk said, "you were sorry when we got rid of Nomad. The ship imperilled, Scotty and Uhura both all but lost to us, and – what was it you said?"
The destruction of Nomad was a great waste, Captain. It was a remarkable instrument.
Without accessing didactic memory to recall words he surmised the other could remember, Spock said, "My comments did not in any way detract from satisfaction at the removal of the threat to the Enterprise and its crew, sir."
"Really? Remind me of the last time we came across a super-computer which was running human lives to the greater good of all. Go on. And, while you are about it, remind me of a time when you didn't regret the liberation of the society in question."
If you thought about it one way, that was pretty much all they had done for five years. Saved the galaxy from the evils of defective electronic dictatorships (in between improving their chess game, learning Vulcan (Kirk), learning Standard idiom (Spock), pretending not to understand Standard idiom (Spock), losing too many men (Kirk), learning to be there after Kirk lost too many men (Spock). And learning more about the dynamic between man and machine than either would have thought possible, along, of course, with the dynamic between man and man, and man and Vulcan. How was it that it was the relationship between human and machine which proved such a tripping point in his friendship with Spock, when it was the dynamic between human and half-human which defined them?)
On Sigma Draconis Seven, he had said to Kara, There are other ways. You'll discover them. Spock had not complained then, but then the liberation of the Morg and the Eymorg had been the price of Spock's own life. Unfair, perhaps, but true. The price of McCoy's life had been liberating the people of Yonada from the oracle; no complaints then, either. Gamma Trianguli Six, Vaal going dark in green smoke and fire. And Spock's question – I'm not at all certain we did the correct thing on Gamma Trianguli Six. No. He hadn't been certain then, either.
That had also taken him quite a while.
There had been others, as well, of course. Even where the computer had not dominated, they had seen their share of communities where the imbalance had been obvious. Eminiar Seven and Vendikar – another computer-dominated dynamic, even if with rather more conscious co-dependence on the part of the societies involved. Miramanee's planet, the obelisk which was built for their protection by the benevolent paternalism of the Preservers. Losira and the computerised defence system of the Kalandans which lingered far into the future to kill instead of protecting.
Spock said:
"An objective approach would analyse the relationship between man and machine as complementary not competitive. Man invents; machines serve. In a healthy environment, there is no question of choosing one over the other because their roles differ. Where the Enterprise discovered civilisations dominated by machines, or abandoned or harmed by machines, it was because man, intentionally or negligently or erroneously, had suborned his own independent thinking to computer programming, including where that programming was defective."
"So why the expressions of regret, Spock? Why the uncertainty? When we destroyed Vaal, Nomad? Why did you think building M5 was a good idea?"
The Vulcan said, very quietly,
"It is only by the search for knowledge that man grows, sir."
"Is that what Vaal's people were doing? Growing?"
Into the sudden antagonism between them, sparked by the tone of his accusation, Kirk wondered suddenly what Spock had seen on Gamma Trianguli Six. What had induced the Science Officer of the Enterprise to regret the end of a stunted society, the start of true individual growth, of natural development? He heard McCoy's voice, suddenly, from earlier in the mission to Romulus.
His solution is to go one way or the other – Ms Kalomi, who meant he could forget about his Vulcan half, or Gol, where he could forget about being human. You? You keep dragging him out of those simple, easy places. You keep telling him he has to learn to compromise, he has to live in the middle, learn to be half-and-half.
Was it the simplicity of Gamma Trianguli Six which had appealed to Spock and was it the black-and-white of man versus machine which led him to the world of computers? Even when they were wrong?
He realised he has said it out loud.
"Even when they are wrong?"
And Spock, reading the unspoken as well as the spoken thought, and following without effort a thought process as familiar as his own (even if remarkably different), said only,
"Not always, sir. Not on Starbase Eleven."
Kirk stopped dead, inasmuch as a man sitting in a small shuttle cabin can be said to do so.
Ben Finney. The ion storm, going to red alert, jettisoning the pod.
The courtroom on Starbase Eleven. Stone, Areel Shaw, Finney, Spock and his game of chess. He had faced a machine across a witness stand and it was not the humans, not Commodore Stone, not his former lover, Shaw, but Spock who had said, The computer is inaccurate, never the less… I do not dispute it. I merely state that it is wrong. And then the personal accolade, the counterweight to A starship also runs on loyalty… Spock, saying: I speak from pure logic. If I let go of a hammer on a planet that has a positive gravity, I need not see it fall to know that it has, in fact, fallen.
He started to turn to Spock, the memory washing over his face, more than an apology written in his eyes - which the Vulcan just had time to read before the communication alert sounded into the space in the cabin.
Someone was answering Spock's coded signal.