Therizine
The spaceport was filled with passengers departing for planets and other starbases surrounding Starbase 12. Spock was speaking with his aide from the Vulcan delegate to Beta Orionis 4. He glanced up to check the departure board and saw a familiar face in his peripheral vision. He looked quickly but the face was gone. He excused himself and took off at as fast a pace as the crowds would allow, searching intensely for the face of his T'hy'la.
Spock caught a glimpse of James Kirk turning a corridor past a passenger lounge. The Vulcan followed, quickening his pace. Jim pushed the outer door open and walked out into the chill night. A few travelers were coming and going but this exit was largely unused, being somewhat away from the main terminal. He had not seen Spock following him. The walkway continued down past the terminal parking area and ended at a side street leading to the main spaceport boulevard. The area was the one Jim was looking for, the warehouse district known for the place where drugs and smuggled goods were bought and sold. Wearing only a light jacket, he should have been cold but the drug fever was building, making him sweat. He rubbed his face trying to stay awake, dreading the crash he knew was coming.
"The price is the same, human."
Jim rubbed the sweat from his face with his sleeve. "My credit's good."
"I do not deal in Federation credits." Horin pushed Jim aside, an easy thing to do for the 7-foot, muscular Klingon.
"Wait, I have gold-pressed latinum." Jim grabbed a handful of the coin, letting it jingle in his palm. The Klingon turned and grabbed the human's hand in a crushing grip. A scanner appeared and the coinage was found to be genuine. The Klingon took all of the coins and then pressed a pressure-syringe into Jim's hand.
Jim injected the drug as the Klingon turned and began to walk away.
Spock waited until the Klingon had melted into the shadows and then ran to Jim.
"Captain!" The human's face had the look of drugged serenity, no longer fully aware of his surroundings. He did not protest as Spock picked him up like a child and carried him into the night.
The wind blew more strongly from the east as Spock touched the comm panel at the healer's gate. The cold wind chilled him and the human he carried stirred weakly but said nothing.
"Spock, son of Sarek, asking for permission to enter."
There was a pause, and then the gate opened inward on silent hinges.
Spock moved forward quickly up the path leading to the home's front door. As he reached the first steps the door opened and a diminutive Vulcan female bowed slightly and moved aside to let Spock enter.
The healer met him in the front gathering room. He was a tall, graying Vulcan with a dignified bearing. He bowed slightly as Spock came into the light from the darker hallway.
"S'haile."
"I require your assistance. My friend is ill." Spock waited for the healer's answer. Jim said nothing.
The healer gazed at Spock for a moment then seemed to make a decision. "Bring him this way."
The examination room was very much like a private hospital room or a small clinic. Spock laid Jim gently on the examination table and stepped back. The healer looked more closely at Jim and up sharply at Spock.
"Yes, this is James Kirk." Spock acknowledged the physician's recognition of the patient.
Following a brief scan, the healer spoke again. "This man is a therizine addict." It was not a question, more an accusation. As if Spock were somehow responsible for the state of his friend. Perhaps I am. Not logical, but perhaps, true.
"I require you to wait in the gathering room." The physician turned to the small Vulcan woman and gave a string of orders.
Spock removed himself to the short hallway on the other side of the open doorway, watching the doctor's movements closely. Jim's outer clothing was removed and the physician's assistant wiped Jim down with antiseptic cloths as the doctor completed his examination. Several drugs were administered and at the end of it, Jim had fallen into a deep asleep.
The healer met with Spock in the hallway and led him to a small office nearby.
The doctor gestured to a chair and sat behind a desk.
"I have administered the accepted treatment for a therizine addiction. The medication is a substitute for the therizine that mimics the addictive drug's effects but without the damaging side effects. If the human is strong enough, he may survive the night. And then, the treatments can begin." As if to soften the news, his tone changed slightly. "You are aware of the consequences of therizine addiction?"
Spock replied with what he knew. "I have been looking for him for weeks. I found him a few hours ago in the warehouse district. He had just purchased the drug and injected himself, before I could prevent it. I know it is powerfully addictive."
"It is more than powerful, it is all consuming. After only one or two doses the addiction is complete. This man has been an addict for some time. His survival, thus far, is unprecedented. Most therizine addicts die within a month of the first use. His addiction is complete. He will never be without the desire for the drug, even if the treatment is successful. The recovery rate rarely exceeds 9 percent."
Spock nodded slightly but said nothing. The lighting in the small room seemed to dim and turn gray.
The healer watched Spock for a moment then sat back in his chair, as if expecting a long conversation. "Then it is true what they say."
"What do they say?"
"That this human is more than your captain, more than your commanding officer."
Spock waited.
"This human is T'hy'la."
Spock watched the top of the healer's desk but did not reply.
"If he is T'hy'la, your responsibility to him will never end. He will require constant monitoring. He can never be trusted not to attempt to acquire the drug. He will do whatever is necessary to acquire it. He will require your presence for the rest of his life. Are you prepared to do what is necessary?"
Spock answered without hesitation. "I am prepared to do what I must for the rest of mine."
"Then perhaps it is fortunate that you will far outlive this human."
And then Spock rose and turned his back to the healer, saying nothing.
"Or, perhaps not." The healer answered himself softly.
They stood beside Jim's bed as he slept. His face had relaxed into the deep sleep of the artificial drug.
"I wondered what kind of human could melt the heart of Surak's heir. Even in this ravaged state, his bearing is one of nobility. In his youth and in good health, he must have been formidable."
Spock answered softly, "He was."
"The first warrior commander of half a galaxy. And yet, you say his is not a noble house?"
"No, his people are farmers."
"Even so, an honorable profession, tilling the soil to feed others. It is a testament to his strength that he has survived thus far." The healer turned to Spock. "You brought him here and not to the Starbase hospital, no doubt to preserve his honor. As T'hy'la, it is your duty and privilege to keep the vigil. I will not interfere. I will retire now. If you have need of me, call me on the comm unit." He gestured to the com link on the nearby table.
"Doctor." The healer turned at the doorway. "Thank you. From both of us. The House of Surak owes you a great debt."
"Yes," the healer answered, "you will. If he lives."
"Then it is you I have to thank for my life, sir." And he gazed up at Spock. "And Spock, of course." He couldn't quite keep the grateful smile off his face.
"This is a reprieve, only. As soon as your personal physician arrives, I must ask you to leave."
Jim's chagrin was genuine. "I understand, sir." And then, "How long do I have, no live?"
The healer was not gentle. "The path to recovery will be a long one, if you live. You have survived, thus far, which, I understand, is a common occurrence for you. Surviving long odds, that is."
"Yes, well that's been a topic of contention between Spock and myself for quite a long while. That I take unnecessary risks." Jim glanced over at Spock who said nothing.
"As a warrior commander, I suspect taking some risks would be part of your duties."
"Yes, but not unnecessary risks, as Spock says," Jim smiled softly up at Spock, who did not reply. He's angry with me. I understand. "I have no one to blame but myself. I thought I would check out a local establishment, it had a reputation as an outworlder bar. I should have been more careful. I was jumped outside on the way back to my hotel, and the next thing I knew I woke up in an alley some time later with no ID and no hotel room pass. I was staying at one of the older hotels. I made my way back but then a while later I found out I needed the drug to keep going." Jim saw something pass over Spock's face but was too tired to tell if it was something other than anger.
Spock answered the healer. "Doctor McCoy should arrive within the day."
"You found Bones?" It was a surprise, but one Jim should have expected.
At last Spock looked at him, his Vulcan features very still. He is angry, or very worried. I'm sorry to get you mixed up in this, Spock.
"Dr. McCoy will continue your treatments."
McCoy had made his own examination.
"How did you find him?"
"I have been looking for him for several months."
"Therizine is nasty stuff. I've heard of this kind of attack, but I never thought it could happen to Jim."
"He was careless. And alone."
McCoy considered the Vulcan for a moment and answered softly, "Yes, he was."
They were alone again in the hotel room. McCoy had gone out for supplies.
"I never wanted you to see me like this." Jim wiped his eyes. He saw Spock's reflection in the window as he looked out on the lights of the city.
Spock came forward and knelt on one knee by Jim's chair. "'I haven't heard a word you've said. And I'll get you to Vulcan, somehow,'" Spock repeated Jim's words to him from long ago. "'You've been most patient with my kinds of madness.'"
Jim nodded and lowered his head into his hands and sat in front of the window for a long time.
"There's a treatment facility I know of that I can probably get him into, with a referral from a friend of mine who specializes in therizine addiction. They will be discrete."
"And what is the cure rate of this facility?"
"Spock, there is no cure for this. The drug alters the brain. That's why it's so dangerous. Not only does the addict stay addicted, but the brain chemistry is altered so that even a non-addictive personality like Jim's can become addicted."
"But he can live with the condition, if treated? Or the brain can be repaired, returned to its former condition?"
The Vulcan tuned back to watch Jim sleep.
"Spock, I know you don't want to hear this but you have to understand. He's not going to be the same Jim that we knew. He will stay in the treatment center for months and then, if he's lucky, he'll be committed to a recovery/wellness center for the rest of his life."
"You consider this 'lucky'?" There was a harshness in Spock's voice that McCoy had seldom heard before.
"No, of course not, I just meant, if he responds well to the treatment he can live in a wellness center for non-violent addicts."
"Jim is not violent."
"No, not normally, but with his skills as a fighter, he will be considered a danger to himself and others. He has the training to be able to get the drug in any number of ways that an ordinary, non-Starfleet citizen does not." McCoy stepped up to Jim's bed and spoke quietly, at Spock's shoulder, trying reach him. He knew of the Vulcan's somewhat obsessive loyalty as far as Jim was concerned. He had experienced the steps Spock was willing to take to rescue his former commander from a life of wheel-chair bound imprisonment. "He will never leave that facility, Spock."
Spock gazed at Jim intently, as if wiling the future to be different. "I do not accept this. He will recover." It was a pronouncement, and it would come true.
"How? What are you going to do?
Spock seemed to make a decision. "I will take him to Vulcan. There are healers there who can help him."
"Does Jim know what you have planned?"
"I have not yet told him."