Chapter 5

The iridescent black surface of the data screen was shimmering right in front of him. Though his eyes were wide open, he didn't really see. Within his head, results, facts and implications were still circling and colliding, locked in the familiar, wild dance through his brain, on their way to finally forming an ultimate picture. The one he would use as a base to further decide and act upon.

On a higher mental level, he was already very aware of the fact that the research the Federation had conducted so far offered no promising approach to the problem. He knew he had not missed any detail, had not overlooked a single option, and he was already appreciating the most likely possibility that the answer lie somewhere else entirely. Yet, going through the customary intellectual motions was necessary because not doing so would always leave doubts and what-ifs that not only were patently inacceptable, but also something he could plainly and simply not afford.

So Khan consequently followed the habitual mental routine to its end.

Even when a distant part of his brain perceived the Vulcan re-entering the lab.

Had he not known that nine hours had passed since he had left the previous night, Spock might have fallen for the strange impression that he had just turned his back for a few minutes on the scene before him.

Khan was still sitting in front of the data unit, just as he had left him. Back straight, hands palm down on the table, eyes apparently glued to the dark screen before him. Nothing about him suggested even the slightest hint of strain or exhaustion, yet Spock had learned from a short conversation with the senior guard that, as he had suspected, Khan had not touched any food and neither had he slept, a state of affairs Spock strongly disapproved of. It was his assignment to ensure an effective cooperation in order to gain the best results as fast as possible, and in his experience a depleted human body equaled a depleted human mind. On the other hand, he was well aware of his ignorance about how long a genetically perfectly engineered organism was able to function effectively, sleep deprivation and lack of sustenance notwithstanding. So he had decided to let the matter go and, for the time being, rely on Khan to avoid entering a physical state in which he would be of no use to his crew mate anymore.

How he would make the man ingest anything if he had chosen not to do so, let alone take a few hours of rest should it become necessary, was yet beyond him anyway.

With Khan still having to make any move or sound of acknowledging his presence, Spock took the liberty of having a closer look at him. Though they had appeared to be fixed to the screen, he realized now that Khan's eyes were rather unfocussed, indicating that he was either in a kind of recreational trance or deep in thought, probably not even aware of another person having entered the laboratory. Not wanting to disturb either process, Spock refrained from making his presence known, but continued exploiting the opportunity of unimpededly studying the other man for a change. Despite his perfectly erect posture in the seat, Kahn's hands lay utterly relaxed beside the data unit. There was no detectable tension, neither in his straight shoulders nor his cervical muscles. Apparently, his body adopted its upright bearing completely by default, and Spock had a very definite idea of the discipline and training it took to arrive at the degree of unconscious physical governance allowing similar results. So far, he had been convinced that this was something a human simply could not achieve, but he had to admit that he had been wrong about Khan before, and…

"You have been thorough."

…suddenly found himself fixed by a cool, calm gaze. When had those eyes swung to and re-focused on him?

While Spock still struggled with the brusque change in situation as well as the question whether Khan's remark related to his own scrutiny of the man or the research he had reviewed, that voice rang out again.

"At some points, it took you frustratingly long to arrive at certain conclusions. Also, during the last two or three weeks, your concepts grew increasingly despondent until they bordered on clutching at straws. Then again." At this point, Khan slowly rose from his chair, his voice growing very soft. "Who could blame you?"

They were fully facing each other now, both standing, glances fixing each other, but Spock was still mentally recovering from the moment of surprise Khan had just induced. Inwardly rebuking himself for the short moment of distraction he had indulged in, Spock was keenly aware that he'd just been thrown off balance, and he also expected Khan to push his advantage in order to keep him from finding his center again. All it would take were a few more of those acid, well-placed comments on their helpless inability to fight the pandemic. A detailed highlighting of the ludicrousness of their latest medical fumbling about, that had been more a waste of time and resources than anything else. It would be so easy.

Too easy.

But Khan didn't seize the moment. Even though so far, their interaction had been about nothing else but one-upmanship (mentally, intellectually, physically), Spock found himself confronted with silence that allowed him to catch up with the situation and gather himself. A very subtle change in Khan's eyes told him that his regain of control had registered, and yet, even now, there were no more verbal blows following. Khan seemed to be waiting. Maybe for him to elaborate, to contribute additional information. For anything that would offer a further chance, no matter how slim, to find a way out of this abominable situation.

Unfortunately, he would not be able to accommodate him. Because they had not worked out a single one. Instead, and to his own very private dismay, he found himself falling back on feeble attempts at self-justification.

"In hindsight, some of the strategies we decided to follow might not look promising. The fact that we were running out of options made us turn to more…innovative ways. Quite unsuccessfully, as you have observed." Spock remembered only too well the bitter taste of frustration and desolation of those past weeks. And was prepared for any caustic remark about the difference between innovation on the one and crude, far-fetched concepts on the other hand.

To his utter mystification, none came.

So it *was* all they had done. At least all the Vulcan did know of. Since he had, on some level, given up counting on that particular avenue a few hours ago already, this realization was nothing more than the final piece of the jigsaw Khan had needed. The last confirmation that allowed him to close his mental file on that chapter once and for all.

He let the silence (and the Federation's helplessness that rode it) hang between them for another moment before he turned on his heel and crossed the lab to enter the small service area, separated from the working space by three quarters of a cube of transparent walls. Squatting down in front of the undersized refrigerator with his back to the laboratory, he left it up to Spock whether to follow him or not.

It didn't take long before he heard the door slide open. Since there was no sound of anything swishing shut again, Khan assumed that Spock had gone no further than the doorframe, obviously to avoid sharing an even more confined space with him than he already had to in the lab - a sentiment Khan could fully appreciate. What he strongly disapproved of was the fact that the Vulcan was now blocking his exit while cornering him at the same time. The feeling of being trapped was definitely not new to him where his dealings with Starfleet were concerned, yet that didn't mean he had gotten used to it. And when Spock's voice rang out, it only fueled the growing aggression itching inside him.

"After you have now had the chance to familiarize yourself with all the scientific data we have acquired on the pathogen, it would be helpful if you shared the conclusions you arrived at."

Retrieving a bottle of water, Khan rose again from his crouching position in front of the fridge. He did not even consider turning around, though.

"I was under the impression that I have only done just that." Slowly opening the bottle, Khan had already decided against any further verbal provocations. Time and energy were too precious to be wasted on power plays. He was in desperate need of both if he wanted to take that one mental step further. The one step a highly qualified research team with scientific resources and techniques far beyond his own clinical microbiological training had not been able to see. He needed to *think*, without the constant interruption of…

"You have informed me about your low opinion of our work. I had hoped you would be able to contribute a little more than that."

It was not only the deep swig of water, but it certainly helped to rein in the sudden and fierce flash of temper. He didn't like the fact that the fury he had only beaten back yesterday had begun seething anew right beneath the shields of his self-control. He also knew he had to get back to the only task relevant right now as soon as possible if he was to keep those shields from thinning out. Should that happen, he would lose even more time to regain governance again.

Khan didn't believe in doom loops, because cycles were there to be broken. And by venting just a tiny fraction of the rage he felt, well-camouflaged as derisive contempt, he would probably be able to do just that. A quick glance from the corner of his eye told him that his guards were on higher alert than they had been during the night – most likely alarmed by Spock's and his relative closeness in the rather constrained settings of the service area. Well, they were in for what they would consider the first threat scenario of their assignment. He would have preferred to avoid resorting to provocations that soon, but apparently it couldn't be helped. And sometimes, taking calculated risks was necessary.

"Very well, Mr. Spock." One quick, fluid turn brought them eye to eye again. "Since you are asking so very kindly, I will spell it out for you. Your research team has, inexplicable retardations and several blind ends notwithstanding, tested all the options I would have covered as well. You have dotted each i and crossed every t, you have added methyl groups to the relevant antibiotics, you have done the same with their derivates and you have worked on suppressing the microorganism's crucial enzymatic functions. Yet, Yersinia pestis defeated your every desperate attempt at finally gaining control."

Taking another pull on the bottle, Khan closed the distance between them until they were literally standing face to face. Spock didn't retreat, and neither had he expected him to, but Khan could tell that this sudden confrontation had caught the Vulcan off-guard.

"Bottom line, Mr. Spock: You are not one step closer to finding an antidote than you were at the very beginning of this utterly fruitless endeavour."

Khan lifted the water bottle in a mock salute before he drained it.

He heard the security barrier open and close, the sound of several running feet approaching them. Eyes still fixed on Khan who stood only a few inches away, Spock registered the arrival of four guards who were positioning themselves beside and behind him. Weapons were aimed and commands shouted, each calling on Kahn to retreat immediately.

Who didn't budge but remained rooted to the spot. Leisurely recapping his now empty water bottle.

It took Spock only one second to gauge the situation, assess the imminent escalation and arrive at a decision. A final searching look over Khan's dispassionate features was all the confirmation he needed.

"Lieutenant." His own voice a study in smooth calmness, he addressed the senior guard he had already talked to this morning. "I am very grateful for your quick intervention but equally positive that the situation is under control."

"With all due respect, Commander, that is not what it looked like a few moments ago!"

"Mr. Singh and I merely disagreed on a scientific matter. Regarding what is at stake, such a discussion can turn a bit…passionate from time to time." Spock turned back to Khan, pausing a little before he went on. "Mr. Singh will certainly agree with me and demonstrate the inoffensive nature of his actions by complying with your demand to step back. Immediately."

Something suspiciously similar to relief rose within him when he watched Khan retreat a few paces without the slightest delay. Though he was absolutely positive of its deliberate character, Spock did not have the slightest idea about Khan's reasons for this provocation and therefore had not been certain whether he would condescend. Now that he had, Spock returned to the senior guard with reinforced resoluteness.

"Lieutenant, thank you again for your quick reaction. As you can see, it fortunately was as unnecessary as it was prompt. I will inform you superiors about the effectiveness of your work."

"If you are certain, Commander…"

"I am."

He watched the four men retreating to the security barrier, their misgivings, even for Spock, clearly tangible. One of the guards who had remained forming a line to back up the laboratory from the outside initiated the opening of the transparent wall and with a final glance in Spock's direction, the senior guard left the lab last after his colleagues, the barrier sliding back into place behind him.

Slowly, Spock turned back to Khan. Face fixed in the unmoving lines of his usual mask, eyes cool and pale, Khan regarded him wordlessly. With an inward sigh Spock realized that if he was to find out what had prompted this incident, waiting for Khan to volunteer information would be futile. To achieve anything, he himself would have to contribute his own share to break up the deadlocked status quo. Khan had just proven that he was willing to take risks and end up at Spock's mercy doing so. It was time to show that he could return the favor.

So when he stepped completely into the small service area, the door swishing shut behind him, Spock made it clear for everyone watching that the choice for immediate proximity had been his, and his alone.

He couldn't tell whether there was a hint of approval flitting over Khan's features. He wasn't even sure if there had been any change at all in that facial expression. The light reflecting from three transparent walls as well as falling in from different directions made it difficult to discern external effect from intrinsic reflex. Yet, Khan had at least kept his current position during Spock's entrance. And again, he seemed to be waiting.

And again, Spock filled the silence between them.

"I refuse to believe that you just risked an altercation with four heavily armed guards to simply inform me about the Federation's 'utterly fruitless research' not yielding any applicable results. I don't find any sense in invoking this provocation to merey point out what we already know."

Khan continued to regard him in silence for another moment before he finally spoke again.

"I didn't."

For a few moments, Spock realized all he could do was stare. It was not easy to admit it, but it was the simple truth: he felt his patience beginning to wear thin. His next words slashed the room like a whip.

"Didn't do what, exactly?"

He watched Kahn taking his time turning away again and putting the empty bottle in a recycler.

"None of the aforementioned." Neither Khan's voice nor body language betrayed any reaction to Spock's harsh change of tone. "What I did was confirming what you already should have known: that the universally valid methods to counteract a morbid microorganism, which apparently are still the same in principle as they were three hundred years ago, definitely do not apply in this case."

He *had* known it. Somewhere, his Vulcan half had been aware for quite some time already. It had been the human part of him that had refused to acknowledge, had insisted in *believing* that there had to be a way. Some way. An inconceivable notion bordering on hope, but all his own futile work on the matter, all his Vulcan training that usually simply forbid him closing his eyes to the rationale and facts had not been able to extinguish it. Only now, with those last words still echoing in his head, that small spark had irrevocably expired.

And it did not slip Spock's attention that it had been Khan of all people who, with a few well chosen words, had finally made him accept the truth.

The inevitability of the situation made it hard to speak. Yet somewhere, he did find his voice.

"So you have just wasted nine hours of the time your man still has left."

Inappropriate. Pathetic. Beneath him. Each and every word. With a very recent conversation with his captain whispering through a distant fraction of his mind, Spock figured that Kirk had been right after all: Khan *did* bring out the worst in him.

And apparently had a far stronger grip on his emotions than Spock did this very moment as well. Leaning against the narrow sideboard at his back, expression, eyes and poise of body unreadable as ever, he did not show the slightest inclination to rise to the bait.

"And that is, exactly, where you are wrong, Mr. Spock. It is the very reason why you and your team failed. And will continue to fail." Pushing away from the counter, Khan walked past him only to stop in the opening door. "Not one minute of those nine hours was wasted. Not one day of your research needed to be. You made it so because you succumbed to frustration."

Unable to think of an answer, Spock could only watch as Khan turned his head and fixed him with one of those penetrating glances.

"There is one distinction between us, and it will make all the difference in the end. You regard your failure as defeat, I see it as a vital step, and one of many, that will lead to the solution. Because there is one simple, but most important truth to be learned from those analyses and experiments: The answer lies neither within modified antibiotics nor enzyme inhibitors. So if it doesn't, Mr. Spock, we must look somewhere else."

The door slid shut. Alone in the small room, Spock followed Khan with his eyes as the man walked back to the data unit, sank down onto the chair he had already spent the night in and re-engaged the screen. His mind was buzzing with several not altogether pleasing impressions (one of them concerning the fact that he as a trained Vulcan apparently needed to be reminded of the pre- and concepts of scientific work by a genetically enhanced human from the twentieth century), but truly reflecting on them would have to wait until the far more important work of the day was done. Straightening and using a mental technique from his destroyed homeworld he had not applied in weeks, he cleared his mind from anything not touching on the task at hand and followed Khan into the laboratory.

Doubting very much that the switch in personal pronouns in Khan's final sentence had been coincidence.