Interlude: Augments

Summary: Post Space Seed, and months after New Sapienza, the three friends sit down for some companionable time.

Stardate 3153.7 - Captain's quarters

Doctor McCoy left the turbolift, walking down the corridor. There were very few crewpeople around this late into the night shift. He crossed paths with the Saurian ensign who'd joined them at the last stop. They saluted him. He waved back, but for the life of him he couldn't remember their name.

Finally reaching the captain's quarters, he opened the door, exclaiming, "God, Jim, I hope you haven't finished that bottle of brandy yet. I need a drink!"

"Hello to you too, Bones," Kirk grinned. "You know Spock here doesn't like alcohol, so it's just me, and now you. And there's no need for a drunk captain tonight."

McCoy sat in the empty chair and grabbed the bottle, serving himself a generous dose. He downed half of it and tried to relax, massaging his neck.

"I only wish I could get drunk. But no. Ensign Filisterra is back in my sickbay. I'll have to run a full battery of exams on him early tomorrow morning."

"Can't you leave that to Doctor M'Benga?" Spock asked. He was sitting straight in his chair, and McCoy regarded him warily. But he seemed relaxed, or as relaxed as he ever looked to be. He was nursing something dark violet, likely some sort of fruit juice, in a tall glass. "You too need a break, Doctor, after these last few days," the Vulcan added. McCoy hoped he wouldn't spout something like "maximum efficiency" or the like, push him into getting more rest and delegating more. As if the darned Vulcan didn't do the same, taking on many of the science teams' duties himself.

"The whole medical team was involved in Khan's followers' check-up, Spock, it wasn't just me. Besides, it's the third time in the last five months that Filisterra is down with the flu."

"Should I worry about the risk of a flu outbreak on the Enterprise, Bones?" Kirk asked.

"No, it's just him. But that's the problem. I've double-checked it, all three samples, it's Galinedorian flu. The same one from a year ago."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Am I incorrect in assuming that Galinedorian flu can be caught only once? Immunity should be for life."

"Well, that's the current assumption. Everyone tested shows immunity to the virus. Or at least the antibodies are there, and there's never been a second outbreak. It's generally not serious enough to merit a deeper look. But Filisterra seems to have reduced immunity, somehow. It knocked him down, each time. That's what we're trying to figure out tomorrow."

"Even with a compromised immunity, Ensign Filisterra would have to have acquired the virus from somewhere," Spock commented. "There hasn't been a report of Galinedorian flu on the Enterprise for at least nine months. I also don't recall any warning about it in any of our last stops." As first officer of the Enterprise, he'd have received all routine personnel bulletins, including medical reports.

McCoy laughed hysterically for a moment, before controlling himself. He downed the rest of his glass and served himself another dose. "You should look for T-XC-239, Spock. That's the official classification for Galinedorian flu. Starfleet Medical isn't convinced that what we met in Galinedoria hasn't come from somewhere else, maybe brought by the survey team, and there's no other proposed common name for it. I'm the only one who's still calling it 'Galinedorian' now."

"It may be a self-limiting disease, and he never got completely cured," the Vulcan suggested.

"That's a possibility, yes," McCoy mused. He hadn't thought about that. His own working hypothesis had been that Filisterra had caught it at one of their stops, since the flu was too mild to warrant much attention after the first outbreak. It could simply have become endemic and no one would notice. Though catching it even once, at those brief stops, would be a huge coincidence, let alone three times.

"He may also have been reinfected from an asymptomatic carrier aboard the Enterprise," Spock continued.

"I know my job, Spock!" He wasn't about to let the irritating Vulcan dictate how he should go about it. And he wasn't about to admit, again, that the other's ideas might be worth pursuing.

"Please forgive me, Doctor. I merely wish to suggest that questioning all assumptions may be warranted, since it's still a mostly unknown disease of alien origins."

He grumpily nodded. It was late, too late for this discussion. "Any other suggestions?" He snarked.

At this point, Kirk, who'd been suspiciously silent, interrupted them. "Gentlemen, we're not here to talk about work. If you wish to continue, you're free to remove yourselves to the sickbay or somewhere else. I have a bottle of brandy to make me company."

"Sorry, Jim," Spock immediately replied.

McCoy sighed and said, "You're right, Jim. I'm sorry. What were you talking about before I came in?"

Kirk relaxed back in his chair, nursing his drink. His two friends were snarking again at one another, but it was at most a half-hearted effort. He enjoyed these late nights with them. The doctor seemed to be arguing more from the force of habit, while the captain was certain that Spock was knowingly provoking him, as if that was a game. Perhaps, for the Vulcan, it was. For some time, at least since they began working together on the scientific puzzle Doctor Smith had left them, the rivalry between the two had evolved more and more into an odd sort of friendship. McCoy was a true expert on the subjects of those papers, and he knew enough to value Spock's contribution as another scientist. When not working together, they seemed, to everyone else, to continue to bicker as much as ever, but Kirk knew it now meant something more. Though he doubted they'd ever admit it.

He bent forward to get some peanuts, but grunted as his ribs complained. Spock and McCoy paused their conversation to look worriedly at him.

"Be careful, Jim," McCoy commented. "Your injury from that tumble with Khan will hurt for a few days yet. Next time you should let someone else do the fistfights. Such as our security officers. They may complain you're out to take over their jobs," his chief medical officer snickered.

"I'd've let them do it, if they hadn't been knocked out by the gas. Sure, you'd told me Khan was strong, but I hadn't realized he was that strong."

"The historical records contain claims that Khan and the other 'supermen' of their time were much stronger than normal humans," Spock commented.

"So you got curious with our history, Spock?" Kirk smirked.

The Vulcan quirked an eyebrow. "With their presence on the Enterprise, I would have thought the security risk alone more than justified my curiosity about them."

"Of course, of course," Kirk grinned, then sighed. "Yes, we all learn about the Eugenics wars, but it's not as if that's the most celebrated period of our history. There's a lot written about them that survived the times, but much of it was little more than propaganda. They wanted to be seen as supermen. I didn't think they could really be supermen. Not to that extent."

"Well, they shouldn't have been," McCoy grumbled.

"Why not?" Kirk asked. "Surely genetic manipulation is a very powerful tool, otherwise it wouldn't be as regulated and restricted as it is. If those scientists were better than we thought they were, it only shows how little we know of our own history, and how much we underestimate our ancestors."

"No Jim, you don't get it. Too little is taught in medical school about the real eugenics experiments and the tools they had, so I went to check what is known about their methods. I found a couple of compilations of whatever survived of their original records."

"Ha! It wasn't just Spock then!" Kirk grinned, pointing at the doctor, while Spock raised an eyebrow.

"As if you weren't curious too, Jim! But you're under the wrong impression." McCoy stood, leaving his empty glass on the table, and began pacing around, gesticulating. "Modern genetic manipulation is used to correct severe disabilities, or allow mixed couples to have children." Spock nodded at that, but McCoy didn't even glance at him, too absorbed in his own argument. "Even the illegal uses are aimed at individuals. But that wasn't what those eugenists were trying to do! They didn't want to enhance an individual, they wanted to change the human genome, create a race of superhumans who were stronger, smarter, more resilient than average humans."

"We know that, Bones!" Kirk snapped wearily. He didn't want a lecture, but the doctor just ranted on.

"Direct genetic manipulation is a very powerful technique, sure, but it's very risky too. The more you try to change, the higher the chance something will go wrong. Sometimes it's really sad. But they didn't have that! What they had is selective breeding. It's much safer, and it ensures their children would generally retain the same attributes. But it's also much slower!"

"Selective breeding," Kirk cut him out. "We know that. Choose the right matches so your children may inherit the best from each parent. But-"

"But it's not what they did!" McCoy exclaimed.

"No?"

"You have no idea!" Kirk only stared, listening as McCoy described what he'd found. How, in their quest to achieve their goal of improved humans, the eugenists decided to throw money and numbers at the problem, to make up for their lack of adequate tools and methods. A problem which would have required lots of luck, and much more time, to solve instead. A problem they should have failed to solve anyway.

McCoy recounted what he'd found in the compilations of scattered, fragmented old records. How they described, in dry, scientific language, what seemed to have been veritable human farms for thousands of children at a time, which would be raised in seclusion, tested and selected. How the rejected were never mentioned again, while the best of each generation were brainwashed into contributing to the next. It was the most effective selective breeding experiment those fanatics could have conceived, unencumbered by any ethical concerns.

"Thousands of children?" Kirk exclaimed. He couldn't wrap his head around it. "How did they manage to keep this secret?"

"The short answer is that they didn't really try," the Vulcan started as McCoy, drained after his rant, sat down again and picked the bottle to refill his glass. "The long answer is that most people, especially the governments and the locals involved in the projects, didn't want to know, or didn't care."

"Humans!" McCoy groused. "Sometimes I despair at the depths of depravity we can fall into. And no comments from you, you frozen-blooded demon!" He exclaimed, pointing his finger at their Vulcan companion. "Logic without compassion! That's the trap waiting for the unwary scientist!" Spock, luckily for them all, chose the moment to stay silent.

A few minutes passed while Kirk observed McCoy mumbling inaudibly to himself and wondered what he could say to lead the conversation to a safer topic. Before he could try, however, McCoy spoke again, softly now.

"Of course, despite all improbabilities, they did manage to get results. A few hundreds of so-called 'augmented humans'. Who threw humanity into some of the darkest, bloodiest years in recorded history. The funniest thing of all is that they aren't, as a whole, too different from us non-selected humans."

"What do you mean, Bones?" Kirk couldn't resist his own curiosity. "We've just dropped them on Ceti Alpha V. Khan and his followers are proof that those scientists, no matter how unethical, or how poorly equipped, did achieve their goal."

"In a way, yes. You see, we've collected samples from all of Khan's followers, as well as standard physical and mental tests, as part of their check-ups. They were initially unwilling to cooperate, until Khan himself went and offered to do it."

"I'm not surprised they'd want to cooperate," Kirk commented. "They believe in their own supremacy. They'd want us to be tempted to use that knowledge to try to 'improve' the human species again."

"But there's the problem, Jim," McCoy argued. "Most of the data points are above the human average, but not outside the normal range," he continued. "And in some cases it comes to the detriment of something else. For example, their muscular strength is well above average for normal humans, but many of us could get there, or close enough, if we really wanted to. Granted, we'd need to exercise intensively, but the point is it's achievable. But I thought to check their muscular fine control, and *that* is well below average. Not enough to make them clumsy, but they'd have trouble reaching the level of precision needed for ballet dancers, for example."

"I believe they wouldn't care about becoming great dancers, Bones," Kirk said.

"No, but that's it. From our initial results, their selection seemed to favor relatively rare genetic variants in combinations that result in greater strength rather than dexterity. The point is, those alleles only slightly affect maximum muscular strength, but they make it easier to reach, through penalizing muscular control. And something similar seem to happen with other attributes, such as intelligence. They are geniuses, or rather, they could be, but they don't quite get there."

"Intelligence without intellectual discipline," said Spock.

"I have to agree with you there, Spock. They are smart, but they fall prey to their own innate biases. They were taught they're better than other humans, so they believe it and don't think of questioning it. That's why we were able to outmaneuver them. They also tend to underestimate those that don't think like them. After all, that's how they lost their countries. Their self-confidence was enough to convince many to trust them initially, but-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Kirk interrupted. "What are you saying? That they aren't as good as they believe they are? But Khan's not only stronger, he's intelligent enough to have studied all those technical manuals in just a few hours. He also bounced back from hibernation sickness pretty quickly. That's not normal."

"I don't know if I can explain that, Jim," McCoy replied. "I said most of the data points, not all. Their resilience is way off charts. Theoretically, it's possible that it, and a few other measures that are also outside the norm for human beings, could be explained by previously unknown mutations that the scientists somehow managed to identify, stabilize and incorporate into the genome. I'm still waiting for the genomic analysis results. I'm very curious to see how they differ from baseline humans."

"Doctor, is it possible they had access to some tools or techniques that were lost from the records?" Spock asked. McCoy mumbled something but didn't answer immediately.

"So, what? They had help from aliens?" Kirk laughed.

"Don't laugh!" McCoy grumbled.

"There are some precedents, Jim," Spock commented.

"What, you want me to believe that the same guys who wanted to further the supremacy of humanity were willing to accept help from aliens?"

"We'll see," McCoy replied, "when I have the results of the genomic analysis."

Kirk sobered. "If you're right, we may have to consult Starfleet before making those results public. You know that. Evidence for outside interference in Earth history is automatically classified until a full review has been made."

"Why do you think I'm so happy about it?" McCoy groused. He emptied his glass and approached the bottle for more.

"That's enough, Bones," Kirk warned. "You said you didn't want to get drunk tonight."

His CMO didn't reply, but served himself only half a dose, and sat back in his chair. "Well, at least it's been an experience," he said after a while. "Even though they aren't the nicest human beings, they're my first 'augmented' patients!"

"I would've thought you'd be familiar with genetic augmentation cases, Bones. Since Starfleet cannot accept anyone that has been subjected to genetic enhancement, and you were assigned to a number of medical panels."

"Well, I did participate in a panel on illegal genetic manipulation. There have always been a few cases every decade or so. But I never had the chance to examine one of them myself."

Then Spock asked, "Doctor McCoy, you're saying you never had an augmented patient before? I don't understand. Haven't you examined the Doctor?"

"What?" McCoy stared at the Vulcan, flustered. "Why would you think he's an augment?"

"I've concluded that the Doctor having been submitted to some sort of genetical enhancement would be the best explanation for what I know about him. Perhaps not his strength, but his resilience to pain and his intelligence, as well as reasoning speed and dexterity, are all exceptional for a human being. Besides, that would explain all the secrecy involved in his consulting with Starfleet."

"And you want me to confirm or disprove your conclusion? Spock, how dare you!"

"Sorry, Doctor, that was not-"

McCoy was red from indignation. Without another word, he stood and stomped out of the room, without looking back.

"That was not my intention," Spock finished lamely to the closing door.

"He's right, Spock. Doctor-patient confidentiality. You shouldn't've asked."

"I don't understand his reaction," the Vulcan said, confused. "I wasn't trying to make him say anything. And I tried to apologize."

"You'll need more than that, Spock."

"Of course," Spock said stoically. "I'll seek him later and apologize properly."

They stayed silent for a few moments, with Spock clearly absorbed in his own thoughts while Kirk wondered what that all meant.

"By the way, any news on Doctor Smith?" Kirk asked.

"I have received instructions to stop all my attempts of tracking him. It could jeopardize his cover. Though SI has confirmed two other attempts on the lives of researchers were stopped after we gave them the names the Doctor said he remembered."

"That's good. So it's being handled. Have you been able to find out why they're being targeted?"

"Not yet," Spock replied. "The Doctor, not our Doctor McCoy, he seemed to think it's somehow related to their research, but neither myself nor Doctor McCoy were able to find anything connecting all the people we know are being targeted for assassination. I believe it may be something related to their knowledge and experiences. In that case, it's possible there are other scientists at risk, beyond those on our list. I have shared my concerns with SI, but they haven't responded to that yet."

"Very well. Can I assume we won't meet him again?"

"I wouldn't say so, Jim. Since I've been nominated as his handler, the Director has forwarded to me a few reports that seem to indicate he's after something else now. He may have been seen on a number of occasions, on Federation planets and a couple of our neighbours at least. We are not to pursue these leads, but if we are ever nearby at the time of one of his appearances, I've been instructed to try to contact him."

Kirk sighed. "That's bad. I was hoping we'd never see him again."

"I thought you liked him, now that he's confirmed to work for Starfleet, and we know he wasn't trying to deceive us."

"'Like' is not the word I'd use, Spock. I don't *dislike* him, it's more that I don't think I can trust him, not fully. Do you?"

Spock thought for a bit before responding, "There is much I want to ask him about, but from what I know of him now, yes, I believe I do trust him."

"Well, if we have to meet him again, I do hope you're right."

A/N: Merry Christmas! I'm sorry this took so long. But I'm finally learning to accept that I need to wait until a piece of writing feels 'right' to me before publishing it. I've completely reworked this no less than four times, because their voices didn't sound right. Finally the solution sort of came out in a dream, and I left most of McCoy's rant abstracted in a single paragraph so it won't bother you too much.
This interlude is meant to bridge the long gap between the last and the next episodes, so we're now ready to go on with Pursuit, a few months down the line. The first two chapters are drafted and I'm now editing them. I'm planning to post the first chapter next week.