Chapter 3

The Federation's cautious fencing with Talos (and Vulcan) continued. Still no official news was had of the goings-on on the planets in that area, although rumors naturally flourished. If by chance an official reference was made to the situation, it either revealed nothing or turned out to be blatantly false. Kirk, an automaton, tried to forget that he had ever had faith in the integrity of his government. Even more, he strove to forget that he had ever know any Vulcan, in particular one by the name of "Spock." The fugitive after whom he made routine inquiries was merely a faceless datum.

Two years later the war broke out.

It was now officially acknowledged (and one's displeasure thereat now officially condoned) that Vulcan had been attacked and almost overnight defeated by the Talosians some years back. What with both planets being members of the Federation, and Talos being of considerable economic importance as a supplier of precision industrial parts, the situation had previously been, diplomatically speaking, a little touchy. Vulcan, a planet with a highly educated population specializing in the most speculative branches of scientific theory, but relatively unconcerned with producing high technologies, was a more doubtful quality in the greater scheme of things.

On occasion during those years of official waffling prior to the war, threads had appeared that stood out in the pattern of interplanetary tensions gradually being woven. Once, for example, a commercial entertainment broadcast being seen simultaneously throughout most of the more advanced Federation systems, including on Earth, had been abruptly wiped out and replaced with the sombre face of a humanoid, apparently a Vulcan. He addressed his captive audience in Federation Standard for a few minutes before his unceremonious displacement by a "Please Stand By" signal. What he said in that brief time caused no end of trouble to the network. Outraged denunciations of bad taste, anger at a practical joke, fury at the interruption of a popular program were the main themes of the protests. There were also a few crank calls demanding to hear more, to hear truth; but gradually the public was placated and forgot the affair, except for the usual handful of malcontents.

Kirk, hearing about the scandal some months later, involuntarily demanded to know who the Vulcan had been. No one had any idea.

But now, with the formal declaration of war, this musty incident was resurrected and used as an inspiring example of the indomitable spirit of the oppressed. Names and histories of the quietly impassioned forgotten face sprang up everywhere, all pure fiction. And the one phrase he had uttered that was still agreed upon by all authorities, was trumpeted everywhere now as a rallying cry: "You must learn the truth!" (There was a little more – "and in all conscience act upon it" – but that made the slogan much too unwieldy.)

This truth which all hungered to know was not easy to come by. The Talos-conquered planets, of which there were now quite a group, had been sealed off. No visitors were permitted; any unauthorized intruder was summarily classed as a spy and interned on the planet. "Interned where and how?" was an interesting question (numerous reporters, adventurers, family relations, and actual spies had vanished over the years); gossip had plenty of speculation, ranging from the horrible to the unspeakable, but nothing could be verified.

"It is a sad comment upon our vaunted technology," remarked an Earth politician well known for the profundity of his thought, "that even with the most modern of equipment we are unable to establish communication with the enemy."

After some fumbling, the war took off in earnest. Captain Kirk, whose ship the Enterprise had been sent for reconnaissance/skirmish work pending a large confrontation, had long ago ceased to disturb himself over the rights and wrongs of politics. His duty, thank God, was clear; he was weary of asking questions. After so much doubt, it was stimulating, a release to the spirit, to throw oneself into combat and damn all but destruction! He brightened up quite a bit during the first few months of action. The only fly in this soothing ointment was his medical officer, Dr. McCoy, who since Spock had left had run rampant, expanding his oratory until everyone on board was thoroughly fed up of his profundities. The good doctor had not lost his old habit of asking annoying questions – a habit he had shared with Spock, even if the questions they asked usually were meant to annoy each other. It was only after the departure of his former First Officer that Kirk realized how much he'd needed them both; to have one to play off the other and keep the two of them out of his hair. In any case, by the time the war started, McCoy had metamorphosed into a staunch partisan of Vulcans in general and Spock in particular. The declaration of war, supporting him as it did, left him at an all too temporary loss.

The war irked McCoy, as it required him to be constantly patching up messy injuries on people who would promptly go and get themselves wounded again, making the whole affair rather a waste of time. Even more, he loathed the drudgery of perpetually cranking out one death certificate after another. He began to rail against humanoid inhumanity to humanoid, and spent most of his meagre spare time entangling the reluctant Kirk in political debates.

"You want to know why we're fighting this war?" ("No," sighed Kirk.) "Because the damn Federation is only united in name. What about all that crap we used to hear about policing the members? About maintaining internal peace at all costs? All those fine words about ensuring civil rights for every individual on every planet? Since when have the Aveltavians had civil rights to speak of? Nobody hears about them, they're just primitives on a primitive resources mine. Who cares if they're still a republic? The Vulcans, now, they lost their civil rights long before this war began, long before there was even a question of pretending it was legal to declare war on Talos in the first place. I ask you, how can we declare war on a Federation member? It's outrageous. Oh, sure, it had to be done. But why? Because the Federation didn't do its job when it still had the chance, that's why. Because they let Talos get away with attacking Vulcan – one of the oldest members of the Federation, mind you! Just let them take over an entire planet, remove it from circulation, no one even knows how – though of course the Vulcans believe in non-aggression, they wouldn't have any preparation for war – which makes it even worse – an illegal, immoral, unforgivable assault on the freedom of a fellow Federation member, and the Federation looks the other way. How come? Can you tell me how come? Is it because Talos had money clout? Is it because nobody very much likes the Vulcans? Because they don't like war and they're weird? Is it because the Federation Assembly was too occupied with redecorating its apartments and squabbling over ambassadors' nameplates to bother about some minor inter-system fuss–"

"Bones," said Kirk, "Shut up. Shut up now. If you don't shut up, without another word, you're going to spend the night in the brig. And from there I'll ship you to the Assembly itself, where you might find a more appreciative audience – I've had enough."

"Fine, fine, be a mindless catspaw–"

"McCoy!"

"Don't you care?"

"Don't I care? It's not my business to care! Goddammit, Bones, I am a senior Starfleet officer, after all! What do you want me to do, defect? Do you think that we're on the wrong side in the war? Maybe we shouldn't be fighting at all? Peace at any price maybe we should let the Talosians take over the entire Federation, is that what you want?"

"Now I didn't say–"

"If you didn't, it's about the only thing you haven't said!"

"Are you calling me a traitor?"

"No. I'm calling you a gnat. Now shut up."

"A what?"

"Shut up! Where were you when this mess was brewing? Arguing idiocies with Spock! At least he tried to do something about it!"

"I never argued with Spock in my–"

"And he's probably dead by now, died for the satisfaction of his damned conscience – Just shut up, McCoy! Shut up!"

"Now look, Jim, don't get excited."

"The thought of him shot at dawn in some dingy prison yard, when he might still be alive and useful – oh, Christ, these people with consciences! As for me, I follow orders. And I'll accomplish a hell of a lot more by doing that than he ever could by charging off like a goddam Don Quixote. Don't you talk to me about the Federation. The Assembly isn't Olympus, but they're the best we've got. What if they're only human and stupid and cowardly like the rest of us? Except for the damned flaming knights who think they can change the course of history by galloping at windmills, like that damned Vulcan, that damned Spock..."

McCoy gave him a long look. "I see... I see. I understand. Jim – I'm sorry."

"You understand, do you really? Never mind. Just please, for God's sake, McCoy, for God's sake–" He gestured helplessly. "Don't."