CHAPTER NINE
He doesn't believe in a no-win scenario. But lying here on the floor with a mouthful of blood, a ringing in his ears and... yes, that's a loosened molar, the same one as last time so Bones will NOT be happy...he has to admit that so far he hasn't quite figured out how he's going to do the snatching victory thing. The jaws of defeat are close enough he can smell the halitosis.
He'd gone for the conversational yet direct approach.
"So how much longer have you got?" That to the closest glowering red shirt. Which earns him a deeper glower and a curling upper lip.
"Keep your mouth shut, Kirk."
"I only ask because of the sweating." Keep it light, keep it credible. "That's the first sign. Your body struggles to maintain temperature. I think it's something to do with the hypothalamus...the duplication activates the stress response. It gets overloaded. Is that right, Spock? You saw the medical records."
Spock frowns. "It is rather more complicated than that, captain. The entire endocrine system is compromised."
"Yes, yes of course. Which is how McCoy- " this to the men at the door "that's our ship's doctor - that's how McCoy spotted the deterioration."
"Deterioration?" The nearest red shirt takes a step closer. Kirk senses his first officer stiffen. He takes deep breath.
"You do know you're dying, right?"
At that the second man at the door turns his head. "He told you to shut that mouth."
Kirk continues as if he hasn't heard.
"Rawlson must have told you - about the degeneration at a cellular level. And we've seen the bodies - the ones in the warehouse. But it's not too late, not for you."
For a moment he thinks his words have hit home. The man nearest him meets his gaze and he thinks he sees it, the fleeting glimmer of the Starfleet officer beneath, a man who'd signed up to defend and protect.
"What do you know about it?" Spoken with a sneer. And yet, Kirk realises, it is actually a question.
"What do I know?" He stops. It's not what he knows. It's what he remembers. Even now the duplicate's memories burrow like ticks beneath his skin. The joy of amorality. Of power without consequences. And the heat. The burn of adrenalin.
"I know enough. I know you may have hours not days."
A flash of fear through the sheen of sweat. Knuckles whitening on fists that tremble.
Through clenched teeth. "Shut... up."
Gently now. "What's your name, son?"
Too far. Too close.
Logic and compassion have no place in this mirror universe of refracted light and reversed values.
The snarl turns to a growl. The force of the first back-handed blow sends his head crashing backwards; the second sends him spinning onto his side.
Which is where he lies now, mouth full of iron and head full of stars, and painfully aware that with his hands restrained he's in a poor position to defend himself from the kicks to the ribs and abdomen he's sure are about to follow. The best he can do is curl himself inwards and brace for impact.
Another growl but the kicks don't come.
He realises he has closed his eyes and when he opens them his field of vision is empty.
Wait a minute that growl sounded like -
"Spock!"
Somehow his first officer has managed to swing his legs round with enough force to knock the guard off his feet. He now has him a scissor hold on the floor but, with his arms behind him, he's in no position to follow up and the second guard has pulled his phaser.
Kirk struggles to right himself. "Spock, let him go."
The man on the floor is turning slowly purple thanks to a Vulcan knee against his Adam's apple. The other guard stands over them, swinging his phaser and trying to get a clear shot.
"Let him go, Spock that's an order."
A shadow falls across the struggling bodies.
"Yes, Commander. I suggest you follow your captain's orders. Let him go. Now."
The voice from the doorway is quiet with the icy edge of authority. All movement on the floor freezes.
Kirk blinks, convinced that last blow has done something odd to his eyesight.
"Rawlson?"
It's the same man. Kirk can see that now. But without his lab coat, in science blue, he stands somehow taller, with an air of quiet confidence. This man has a stillness, a focus that is...unfamiliar. The cool gaze tilts to observe the men on the floor.
"Gentlemen. That is a most undignified position. On your feet, Barker."
Coughing and red-faced the guard scrambles up and pulls at his shirt.
"Damn Vulcan nearly killed me. And that one..." he points at Kirk, "He was causing trouble... he said we... that we were..."
"That you were dying," finishes the stranger wearing Rawlson's face. "Yes, I thought he might try something like that. And did you believe him, Barker?"
The man blusters. "No, of course not. But then he talked about the... well, the ones we put in the warehouse. And he said their ship's doctor -"
"-that's enough." The tone is cutting. "I have explained what happened. It was... unfortunate. It won't happen again."
Kirk thinks back to the overheard conversation in the warehouse, to the "next lot" who are "already falling like flies" and opens his mouth to speak. Then he catches the eye of his first officer and closes it again.
"Now. ..You're needed on the surface. Both of you. Report to Lieutenant Miller. He's pulled back to W-6."
"But what about these two?"
"I'll take care of them. Leave me your phaser. You can pull another from the armoury."
Barker seems about to argue. He contents himself with a sudden lurch at Kirk as if he's about to deliver the missing kicks and laughs harshly when his intended target winces in defensive reflex.
"Now, Barker." Rawlson is holding out his hand in bored expectation and with reluctance the man slams the weapon down into his palm.
Kirk raises the back of his hand to the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth and watches the two guards head out of the door.
"Rawlson...?"
A finger to the lips, the other hand up in warning.
After a few seconds Rawlson re-opens the door and peers out into an apparently empty tunnel. When he ducks back inside he's smiling.
"They've gone." He crosses to the desk, produces keys from a drawer and sets to work behind Kirk's back. "We haven't much time."
Kirk looks across Rawlson's shoulder at his first officer who is raising eloquent eyebrows.
"Let me get this straight. You're Commander Rawlson. What happened to-"
"My imposter?" He straightens and sees Kirk's reaction. "That's what you called your duplicate, isn't it, Kirk? Although, interestingly, records don't reveal what he called you."
Kirk finding his wrists free, stretches his cramped arms.
"Well, Commander. You've read the Enterprise logs. That much is obvious. What's far from obvious is why, having read them, you would venture anywhere near that ore from Alpha 177. You saw what the contamination did to our pattern buffers. How it produced duplicates. You knew what would happen."
Rawlson's jaw tenses, his lips thin.
"I appreciate you have a lot of questions, Kirk. But they'll have to wait." He sets to work on Spock's restraints. "Suffice it to say that I had my reasons. Good ones. And yes, I did my research. Years of it." He looks up. "Although you were precious little help." It's said with an attempt at lightness that falls flat. There's bitterness there he can't quite disguise.
Kirk stands, ignoring the protests from bruises and muscles too long confined.
"So that's what this is?" He gestures up and around. "A research project gone wrong."
Rawlson gives a short laugh. "That's one way of putting it. I can explain everything. But not here, not now. We need to get going."
Spock rises to his feet, the handcuffs falling to the floor with a clang.
"Captain. Our communicators."
Rawlson moves impatiently to the door. "They're not here. We have to get across to the control room. Fortunately Miller's team are...otherwise occupied. We shouldn't have any difficulty."
But Spock has moved to the desk; his attention is fixed on the computer screen and a display that flickers and changes. "These numbers, Commander. The names. Am I correct in assuming-?"
"I told you, Mister Spock. I'll explain everything - later. It's not safe." Phaser clasped across his chest the Commander opens the door and steps out into the corridor, gesturing for them to follow.
Kirk hesitates. But there's no point in staying where they are. He nods at Spock who reluctantly abandons his examination of the screen. Together they step into the dimly lit passageway.
-oOo-
Apologies for the delay in updating. And for the continuing mysteries. I really did intend to reveal a bit more by this stage. But my muse wouldn't let me. Do let me know if it's getting tiresome.
