Chapter 37
Stephenson halted in the open door.
Captain Kirk was sitting up in the bed, practicing his right hand grip on a small metal tumbler set on a tray in front of him. Stephenson was used to seeing Dax's prostheses. The Doc, knowing the things would always look odd, opted not to cover the black alloy with artificial skins, and no one ever had a problem with that. Several of his men had them, fingers and toes. So did he, the two smallest toes on his left foot – who knew you needed those to be able to walk normally.
So Stephenson also knew the agony of getting them to work, the rawness of freshly opened wounds and of nerves fusing, muscles reaching. You basically had to relive the most painful part of the frostbite that took your digits in the first place: the searing pain of nerve endings dying back, only now in reverse.
Stephenson could only imagine what that must mean to Kirk.
Also, in Stephenson's experience, never had the patient been in the general state Kirk was in. The Captain's whole arm was trembling with the pain and exertion. The sweat was pouring down his face, a fierce frown of concentration and frustration.
Stephenson pondered why the sight of this man in difficulty bothered him so. Was it the combination of the Captain's obvious strength of character – both fabled and proven – and his present predicament that wrenched so? They were not contradictory, on the contrary, but…
A quiet cough behind him in the corridor interrupted his thoughts. He stepped back and turned to face the Doctor.
"How long has he been at it?" he asked, keeping his voice down.
Dax consulted his PADD.
"Eight hours." He sighed. "He won't sleep, Boss. You know it's not possible without a sedative, and he won't have it."
"Stubborn son-of-a-"
There was a crunching sound followed by a loud crash. Dax and Stephenson ran in to see the tumbler, half crushed, roll pathetically on the floor.
"Well, at least you managed to pick it up and throw it!" Dax grumbled.
"Thanks," Kirk snapped back. "Want to shake my hand?"
He extended the hand, trembling, raw, alien. The three men stared it for a second, then burst out laughing.
"No thanks," Dax said, grinning. He picked up the tumbler and set it back on the tray on Kirk's lap. "But you'd better keep practicing on this one."
Stephenson stepped in before Kirk, intent on ignoring him, turned to his exercise again.
"Captain Kirk," he began, "the Doc here tells me you'll be up and about in a day or two. We need to lay down some rules and agreements."
Kirk looked up, a small smile on his flushed face. His eyes didn't seem quite right to Stephenson, too feverish somehow, or on the brink of somewhere not quite in the room, but confrontational enough.
"The only agreement I can make, Commander Stephenson," Kirk said, "is that I will take advantage of any and every opportunity to get out of here, whether that means breaking the rules, or following them."
Stephenson couldn't help but smile, and something in his troubled view of Kirk shifted to a better place.
"Nevertheless I will inform you of the rules, Captain, as well as the good Doctor here" – he nodded at Dax who, he noticed with some contentment, was standing by uncomfortably. "You will always be accompanied by the Doctor. You will be allowed to visit all but the essential areas of the compound, that is the corridors, the mess, the entertainment room, and any of the crew's quarters if they permit you. You can use the intercom in any of these spaces, as it is closed circuit. The control, engine rooms and storage bays are off bounds. You can wonder outside if you want to, but I doubt you'll want to. The crew has been informed about what they can and cannot divulge. You can ask, but I guarantee you they will be cautious with what they answer. Is that clear?"
To his amusement, only Dax nodded, then stopped himself when he saw Kirk remaining absolutely still. Stephenson took pity on the Doctor. He sighed and said,
"Listen, Kirk, in light of your defiance, I could and really should put a stop to this experiment before it even begins. But I won't. I admire your… persistence, and even your honesty, even though I understand that, when a time comes when dishonesty may help you to your freedom, you will be dishonest. I get that, and we'll cross that bridge when we get there. No reiteration of my honorable intention of keeping you safe and letting you go when we're done here seems to help-"
"- When would that be, then, when you're done here?" Kirk interrupted him.
Aha, now he's asking, Stephenson thought with satisfaction.
"If all goes according to plan, a little less than one Earth month. Then we'll all be off this wretched planet."
Kirk regarded him coolly, revealing none of his thoughts.
The cocky bastard, Stephenson thought, helpless and exhausted and probably in more pain than even the Doc can estimate, and he continues his defiance.
"I gotta give it to you, Captain Kirk, you have nerves of steel. But I have the upper hand here, and you are going to stay put that entire time and will be released on my terms."
He nodded to both gentlemen and walked out, smiling, strangely enough feeling happier than he had for a long time.