Chapter 68 - May Be Right
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Spock had waited patiently outside Selina's door knowing that she was aware of his presence and occasionally reminding himself firmly that Vulcans do not pace (no matter what impressions they may sense from a human mind). Upon finally being admitted, he found her rising from a blank terminal with an air of distaste that would alarm whoever had recently occupied the screen if they knew her at all well.
"Would I be correct in surmising that your interaction with Commodore Stone was less than satisfactory?" he ventured.
Her eyes narrowed with displeasure. "He seems to imagine that because Faf is under his command, he can insult me with impunity."
Spock made a mental note to warn Allen that his superior's presence might soon be required at some particularly disagreeable diplomatic function. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Might I inquire what he has done to earn whatever object lesson you are contemplating?"
"He dismissed my assessment of Faf's condition and particularly my recommendations for his recovery. After ordering Faf to allow me to examine his mental state, he had the nerve to insinuate that my conclusions were unduly influenced by our friendship." Her expression was almost perfectly controlled, but her hands clenched as though she were suppressing a desire to break something (quite possibly the Commodore's neck).
Spock revised his mental note. If the Commodore had accused her of compromising her evaluation due to emotional attachment, the diplomatic event would include an uncomfortable and potentially humiliating ceremonial role. He tilted his head, considering how to proceed. Leaving Allen in the middle of the contention between two particularly stubborn individuals seemed unacceptable.
"When the Commodore last spoke with Allen, he was in a state of some distress. Not fully understanding the cause, or the degree to which you might help, it is perhaps understandable that he finds it difficult to credit the extent of his recovery."
Her eyes snapped to his. "How could you have allowed him to talk to LT in that state?"
Clearly it had been the wrong thing to say. Just as clearly, whatever 'plausible deniability' Allen had sought to provide him would not suffice. "That was not for me to decide."
"He was in no condition to make that decision, Spock." Her eyes widened for emphasis. "And now the excuse he offered to explain resisting verasitol will have him confined to Albans."
Spock's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"I informed LT that that will not be beneficial, but he will not listen." The corners of her mouth edged into a frown. "Faf says it is unavoidable - his 'penance' for this; as if he has not suffered for it enough."
"I must concur. Perhaps if the Doctor supports your conclusions, the Commodore will relent."
"I doubt it. I strongly suspect that LT is playing some other game as well." She glared photon-charged darts at the terminal.
Spock wondered briefly how well the Commodore might cope with being required to dance naked at a Galtoisian celebration of gender transition (It was a fascinating, if somewhat disturbing experience). "Then there is little we can do. For now, however, Allen is confined to sickbay pending your assessment. Therefore, I have come to obtain it. I promise that I shall not dismiss it."
"Thank you." She inclined her head, relaxing slightly. "While his recovery is as yet incomplete, there is no reason for him to be confined. I trust that Len will accept my judgment in that regard even if LT will not."
"I doubt that Dr. McCoy would disregard your opinion in any matter." he observed. "However, he insists upon hearing it from you in person."
She looked up, an eyebrow arching suspiciously. "Spock, have you given him some reason to doubt Vulcan honesty?"
"The doctor was unreasonably upset to find Allen absent and refused to accept any assurance that he had proven well enough to be discharged." He could not quite successfully restrain one corner of his mouth from twitching upward as he said it.
"Indeed?" She crossed her arms. "And his reaction of course had nothing to do with some variation on the little routine you and Faf honed on the infirmary staff?"
His eyebrows rose innocently. "I merely noted the most logical assumption that might explain his absence."
She pursed her lips, shaking her head slowly. "Someday, Spock, I shall persuade you to leave Starfleet for the diplomatic corps. Only your father can better avoid the truth without actually lying."
Although he knew that she admired his father's diplomatic skill, there had been a time when he would have found the comparison uncomfortable. Now, he inclined his head as though accepting a compliment. That did not mean, however, that he would allow the remark to pass.
"Clearly, you would not have removed Allen from sickbay or allowed him to remain absent for so long if you believed that it was improper for him leave." His challenged. "If you were concerned for the doctor's reaction, you could have ensured that he returned in a more timely manner. You did after all know how long the doctor might sleep, having 'tucked him in' for his rest."
Her eyebrows shot up in response.
Spock permitted himself an infinitesimal feeling of satisfaction and relief at her expression. However, not wishing to join the Commodore in his likely diplomatic assignment, he quickly demurred. "It was merely an observation. You were absent with Allen for an extended period of time."
"You know how difficult it can be to wake him. And he insisted on a shower before leaving." Her lips stretched in a private smile far too similar to the one Allen had worn.
Spock glanced at the ceiling. No matter how greatly he preferred Allen to McCoy, there were things he did not care to contemplate. He adjusted the hem of his tunic. "Clearly the respite from sickbay proved beneficial. He appeared to be much improved."
"Yes." Selina eyed him carefully, pacing an arc in front of him as she assessed his reaction. "Tell me, Spock, what would you think if I were to tell you that more than one man had occupied my bed this afternoon?"
He dropped his eyes before they could betray his reaction and concentrated on his boots. The toes appeared dull. He had not had an opportunity to polish them to his usual standards.
"Spock?"
Nor had he noticed previously that the carpet in guest quarters was different from that in crew quarters. Fascinating.
The toes of her shoes moved into his field of vision. He lifted his gaze and caught brief laughter in her eyes before she turned serious. "There is something I need to tell you about Fafhrd."
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Sorenson lay with his eyes closed, singing something resembling You May Be Right (I May Be Crazy). The ghost of Billy Joel would not have been pleased to hear this version, but as long as the doctor was going to be so adamant about confining him here, all but strapped to another damned biobed, he was going to protest with the only means left to him: the fact that he had learned to be pretty good at singing off-key. While acknowledging that McCoy had a right to be angry with him, the fact that the doctor appeared to have gotten under even his Vulcan friend's thick skin did a lot to assuage any guilt. And at least with a common goal, he had been able to get Erik back in check.
They hadn't expected the doctor to get here before him, but Sorenson realized that he should have had Grey walk him back anyway. He had never been especially good at confrontation and the habit of slipping into his alter ego to handle that sort of thing had not served him well now that that alter ego wasn't completely under his control. Grey's presence would have gone a long way toward making up for the fact that he couldn't just explain that he had been ordered (unofficially of course) to check out with a clean bill of health before any more potentially problematic reports were filed.
Now, considering that a debate between Grey and LT was likely to resemble an irresistible force slamming into an immovable object, he was stuck. All things considered, he really should be a lot happier, but the mild euphoria that had followed him out of her quarters had given way to the usual questions and doubts. He wondered if he should add bipolar to the list of things wrong with him.
Somewhere in his head, a raider laughed. That's kind of funny actually.
Shut up, Erik.
He stopped singing and looked up hopefully when he sensed someone approach the bed. Trying not to look too disappointed when it was neither Grey come to release him nor Christine bearing food, he smiled at Kirk. "So, Captain, can you at least tell me what's up while we're waiting?"
The young captain looked a bit uncomfortable. "I suppose you deserve to know. We intercepted a timed signal from Maldi's ship, so it looks like whoever hacked the station is still out there. We plan to set a trap and it seems like you might be the right person to ask for help."
Helvitis. He drummed his fingers, considering the what he had to do. "To do that, I should to go to the station to figure out what happened to the traps I'd set there previously." He gave Kirk a wry smile. "Are you willing to risk whatever Stone, Grey, your doctor, or all three might do to us if you let me?"
Kirk grinned. "Spock seems pretty sure Selina will clear you for duty. After that, I don't see how anyone can object to letting you do your job."
"Alright." He tried to grin back. Even if by some miracle Grey forgave him for this agreeing to this, LT was going to consign him to a rubber room in Albans for the foreseeable future. "Tell me, Captain, what was your impression of Maldi?"
Kirk scowled. "An oily, devious Denebian slime devil with delusions of grandeur."
Sorenson smiled for real. It was hard not to like Captain Jim. (He still can't have Grey, said the voice in his head. Stop it, Erik. That's not up to us.) He ran a hand over his face and tried to pull himself together. That rubber room might not be the worst idea.
"Are you okay?" Kirk looked concerned.
"I can remember more now about what Maldi was like in person. He is devious and probably the guy in charge, but he had the patience and attention to detail of a Solarian gnat. That was a good thing when he was questioning me, but it also means whoever is out there probably handled the details for him and will be a lot harder to catch. And he may have other accomplices on the base, so promise me we're bringing our own security, because Grey will kill me if I get kidnapped again."
"Don't worry about that." Kirk assured him. "After what happened with Hanlan, no one goes over without a full detail until this is finished."
He nodded. "Good, then I'll need to talk to Lt. Uhura."
"Uhura?"
"Whoever got into the station system used a stolen code. It was a mediocre job of hacking at best. But that set up bouncing bits of transmissions sequentially from multiple comm links - that was artistry. You set a thief to catch a thief, and I think the one we're looking for is more of a specialist in her area than in mine."
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AN: Uhura needs a bigger and non-girlfriend role in solving this. I always thought she was under-used in TOS. However, with apologies to Billy Joel, Sorenson may be crazy, but it just may take a lunatic to find who they're looking for. (As one of my favorite Despair Inc. posters says: Madness does not always howl. Sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "Hey, is there room in your head for one more?")
btw, I gave in and posted a very PG-13 version (since I'm paranoid about ratings) of what happened during the 'commercial break' as a one-shot (Meeting of More than Minds) if anyone is curious.
