Chapter 26- Absolution
By the next day my hearing had improved enough that I could understand people if they yelled at me. Great for me, not so much for McCoy who found himself treating a rash of sore throats. I found the sound of familiar voices exhilarating. It was funny how quickly the brain accommodates for a lost function- I found that I often couldn't recall the exact quality of a person's voice in the absence of auditory input. Thus, I struggled to remember the exact tone and pitch that individuals like Chekov spoke in. When I thought about it, all I could come up with was a generic male voice in a comically exaggerated Russian accent. Yet I knew that once I regained my hearing, I could pick his voice out of 100 Russian men without difficulty, proving once more that your brain isn't always your best friend.
Although my hearing was getting better, it was still impractical for me to see patients when they had to scream their deepest secrets so I could hear. It created some serious problems for confidentiality, so I milled about the ship aimlessly. It didn't really matter if I got lost. While wandering the decks, I walked down the halls of 3 and briefly paused at McCoy's door. I knew he was in the sickbay for his shift, but I still felt I was somehow impinging on his personal space. I smiled when I thought about how uncomfortable we were when Jim took his guests on board. That was a long two days when he and I ended up conveniently used the room in shifts to avoid having to be there at the same time. I wondered how Jim planned to make it up to him…
I jumped slightly when I felt a very warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Spock's serene face staring back. His eyes were unreadable and I found myself wishing I hadn't told him how to close himself off to me. His lips moved, but all I could hear was the low murmur of his voice. I tried to read his lips, but all I got was "I", either "startle" or "turtle", and "me." Did he just call me a turtle? Perhaps understanding that I couldn't comprehend him, he motioned for me to follow him to his room.
The ambiance was something fast approaching Hell. His room was so incredibly hot I wondered how his bed sheets didn't catch on fire. He motioned for me enter and I reluctantly did, wondering how long I could last before heat stroke set in. I stood by his desk while he retrieved a PADD and typed. All he had to do was talk loudly, but then again he wouldn't be caught dead raising his voice no matter the reason. It was simply too undignified. While he typed, I casually looked around. I smirked when I spotted the once again solved Rubik's cube sitting perfectly aligned with the angles of the desk by my arm. I wondered how long it took him to solve it after I reshuffled it when we arrived in San Francisco. He seemed to be taking a long time, so I surreptitiously shifted my weight to block his view and seized the cube behind my back to twist it into a mess again. I got several turns in before he handed me the PADD for inspection.
"ACCORDING TO STARFLEET REGULATION 6379.87 REGARDING LOSS OF COLLATERAL TO STARFLEET PROPERTY OR PERSONEL, A REVIEW MUST BE CONDUCTED BY THE SENIOR OFFICERS OF THE SHIP WITHIN 48 HOURS OF THE EVENT. ALL RESPONSIBLE PARTIES WILL ASSEMBLE WITHIN THIS TIME TO GIVE FULL ACCOUNT OF THE NATURE OF THE EVENT AND ACTIONS TAKEN TO PREVENT IT. AFTER THE STATEMENTS HAVE BEEN RECORDED, THE SENIOR OFFICERS WILL REVIEW THE EVIDENCE TO DETERMINE IF DICIPLINARY ACTION IS REQUIRED. IF IT IS DETERMINED THAT THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES WERE GROSSLY NEGLEGENT, THE SENIOR OFFICERS WILL RECOMMEND APPROPRITE SANCTIONS AND WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR CARRYING THEM OUT. THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES MAY APPEAL THE DECISION TO STARFLEET WITHIN 7 EARTH DAYS BY FILING A GRIEVANCE. IF A GRIEVANCE IS FILED, ACTION WILL BE HALTED UNTIL A RULING CAN BE ISSUED BY A PANEL CONSISTING OF STARFLEET SENOIR OFFICCIALS. THIS RULING CANNOT BE APPEALED. THE RESPONSIBLE PARTIES AGREE THAT THE PANEL'S RULING IS FINAL. DOCTOR, WE HAVE EXACTLY 3 HOURS LEFT TO CONFORM TO THIS REGULATION. PLEASE FOLLOW ME TO THE BRIDGE TO GIVE YOUR STATEMENT."
I handed the PADD back to him in a daze. No wonder he didn't want to yell all that. He gestured for me to wait one moment and he walked away toward his bathroom. I took the opportunity to get a few more quick twists in before he returned. I was thankful I had a hard time hearing, not that he would have said another word to me until we got to the bridge. It was probably the most tense ride I ever had, no thanks to Spock's overly austere formality. This was it. I was getting fired.
We exited onto the bridge and I was led to the conference room where McCoy and Jim sat waiting. I took a seat as my stomach sank. Jim looked incredibly comfortable with his feet kicked up on the chair next to him. McCoy sat slumped in his, twisting back and forth in boredom. Spock took a seat by McCoy, straight and proper as always.
"So, Dr. Collins." Jim began. "No doubt Spock has explained to you why you are here. Do you understand what is about to happen?" Not entirely, but I nodded to indicate I did. "Great. We will make this quick and painless. Normally this would get drug out with sworn statements and blah blah, but Bones here says you aren't medically capable of giving a statement 'cause of your hearing thing." He gestured to his ears and smirked. He seemed way too amused by this.
I glanced over at McCoy who was now leaning forward on the table. "Look, Collins, we heard everything. The control room has an intercom. All three of us were there, so there is no need to rehash it all over again." He looked over at Spock who was speaking and shook his head in aggravation. "Spock says that it appears that you acted within the parameters…damn it! You did what you were supposed to." Spock seemed to take exception to McCoy's less than faithful translation, by he blew his green colleague off with a wave as he sat back in his chair.
"So what it all means is we don't think you were responsible. What happened was a regrettable accident, but nothing more. However, we are going to place you on a leave under Bones' supervision until he determines you can go back to work. At some point the two of you need to conduct a debriefing about this, but I will let you two work it out." Jim declared leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "Did we have any other business, gentlemen?" McCoy and Spock indicated they were done, so Jim sat up and slapped the desk. "Meeting adjourned! Collins, thanks for coming and I look forward to having you back on duty." He said with his lopsided smile that made him endearingly quirky.
As I was leaving, Jim placed his hand on my back and steered me to the lift. After we descended a little, he smiled apologetically and said, "I can't talk loud enough for you to hear me without Spock also listening in. His damn hearing is too good." Spock. If he knew the whole time what the outcome was, why did he act so proper as if I were being court marshaled? He could have at least dropped a hint or something… That only made me more determined to beat him at our next lesson. We got off on deck 2 and I just knew where we were going. Sure enough, the bar was open for business the moment Jim walked in.
"I know Bones will go over all this," he said making my drink in the replicator, "but I have to know for myself." He gave me my drink and his blue eyes hardened slightly. "What went through your mind the moment Meyers hit the door switch?"
I sat there stunned. Why would he want to know such a thing? I was completely at a loss because I couldn't remember what exactly I thought at that moment. After concentrating on that very uncomfortable exchange, I swallowed and replied, "Probably that I had failed him. That I would have given anything in the world to somehow pull him back into the ship. That there was something else I could have said that may have worked better, I guess."
He studied me carefully and quietly asked, "You never once thought of yourself?"
"No," I admitted, "I grabbed that strap when I first got out there, so I knew I was safe."
"You didn't know that." He challenged. "That strap could have came loose. Hell, your hand might have got torn off. You didn't know what would happen."
"Ok, I guess not." I agreed with a shrug. "At least not with any degree of certainty, but not many decisions come with any kind of guarantee. I thought it was a risk worth taking."
"Exactly." He stated emphatically. "Collins, I am sorry about what happened. I know it sucks, believe me, I know. This job is great most times, but imagine having 20-30 Meyers at one time. That is what happens to me every time we engage an enemy." There was a sense of hopelessness in his voice that I found touching. He really did care about his crew. "I tell you what's worse. You and Bones try to fix people. When people die on you it is just the force of nature. But Spock and I? We order people to their deaths. It is a fucking nightmare to know that. Spock and I send them to the jaws of death while you and Bones try to pull them back like it is some kind of sick goddamn game of tug-o-war."
"Jim, these people went into service knowing that it was a possibility. If you were responsible for the deaths of civilians, that would be different." I responded. "And at any rate, it is not as though you are keen on fighting. I know you do it only when you have no choice. You would rather try anything, no matter how remote the chance of success if it means saving your crew."
He twirled his bottle on the counter. "Yeah, that's the part Sock doesn't get with all his probabilities and equations. You just know if something will work or not and if you see a break in the clouds, you have to go for it before it disappears." His smile returned, but it held the quality of desperation. "I guess I just wanted to know if it would ever get any easier."
I felt sorry for him if he was looking to me for absolution. I simply didn't have that kind of power. "Would you really want to?" I asked rhetorically. "Would you ever want to get used to the idea of death as acceptable? I don't." I stated. "I never want to forget this moment or who Meyers was as a person because it reminds me of my purpose. It makes me fight that much harder for the next person. I think McCoy would tell you the same thing. It doesn't get any easier, no matter the cause."
He smiled down at the counter and sighed, "Bonsey." He spun his bottle a few times before looking back up at me with the same intensity he used when in war. "I am just going to lay it out right here, right now and I don't care what you think about it." He stated placing his hands on the counter with a dead serious tone. "Bones is probably the only man I have ever called a friend in my entire miserable life. I know I have done a lot of rotten shit to him, more than he probably deserves. That doesn't make me a very good friend, but God knows I try because no one has ever given a damn about me like he does. It is as his friend that I have to say this. I can see that the two of you are getting quite cozy, but hey! That's cool." He threw his hands up in the air in mock submission. "There are no hard and fast rules against fraternization, so I don't say anything when people hook up. The only thing I ask is that it not interfere with duties. But…" He leaned on the counter and lowered his voice, "Bones is the best damn friend a person could have. He has issues, but he is a good man who has been fucked over too many times. So I am telling you, if you are even thinking about starting something with him you had better have his best interest in mind at all times. He deserves to be happy for once after all he's been through."
I sat quietly and listened to his speech, interested in the mutual devotion the two felt for each other. When he was finished, I smiled and replied, "McCoy and I are very good friends, but I fully agree with your assessment of him. I do care for him as a close friend, so I think that we are both on the same page in wanting happiness for him."
Jim regarded me carefully for a moment before raising his bottle in a toast. "Then to our good friend Bones. May we find a way to make him happy or die trying." I brushed my glass against his bottle and concurred.