
SEARCH FOR SPOCKBYVONDA MCINTYREParamount Pictures Presents a HarveBennett ProductionSTAR TREKS iii THE SEARCH FORSPOCK Starring WILLIAM SHATNER DEFORESTKELLEY Co-StarringJAMES DOOHAN GEORGE TAKEIWALTER KOENIG NICHELLE NICHOLSMERRITT BUTRICK CHRISTOPHER LLOYDExecutive Consultant GENE RODDENBERRYMusic by JAMES HORNER, Executive Producer GARYNARDINOVisual Effects by INDUSTRIAL LIGHT andMAGICBased on STAR TREK Created by GENERODDENBERRY Written and Produced by HARVEBENN-THAT I I Directed by LEONARD NIMOYRead the novel from POCKET BOOKS DOLBYMPAA PANAVISION tilde A ParamountPicture Copyright at were MCMLGGOOGGIVby Paramount Pictures Corporation All rightsreserved STAR TREK is a registered trademarkof Paramount Pictures Corporation THESERR-THave FOR SPOLK Uonen n.m tilde 'mtilde RE R BARR BELL NOUEIPUBLISHED BY POCKET BOOKS NEWYORK Distributed in Canada by PaperJacksLtd., a Licensee of the trademarks of Simonand Schuster, Inc. This novel is a work of fiction.Names, characters, places and incidents are either theproduct of the author's imagination or are usedfictitiously. Any resemblance to actualevents or locales or persons, living or dead,is entirely coincidental.Another Original publication of POCKETBOOKSPOCKET BOOKS, a division cf. Simonand Schuster, Inc. J 1230 Avenue of theAmericas, New York, N.y. 10020(tilde In Canada distributed by PaperbacksLtd., cow 330 Steeicase Road, Markham,OntarioCopyright 01984 by Paramount PicturesCorporation. All Righh Reserved.All rights reserved, including the rightto reproduce this book or portions thereof in any formwhatsoever. For information address Pocket Books,1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York,N.y. 10020This Book Is Published By PocketBooks, A Division Of Simon and Schuster,Inc., Under Exclusive License From ParamountPictures Corporation, The Trademark Owner.ISBN 0-671-49500-3 First PocketBooks Science Fiction printing June, 198410 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1POCKET and colophon are registeredtrademarks of Simon and Schuster, Inc.STAR TREK. Is A Trademark OfParamount Pictures Corporation Registered Inthe U.s. Patent and Trademark Office.Printed in Canada.tilde betilde THE BERRY 5PO[NChapter 1Spock was dead.The company of the Enterprtse gathered together on therecreation deck to remember their friend.Dr. Leonard McCoy, ship's surgeon,moved half a pace into the circle. As he raisedhis glass in a final toast, he glanced at each ofhis compatriots in turn.Admiral James Kirk and Dr. CarolMarcus stood on either side of Carol's grownson, David Marcus. David was Jim's son,as well, unknown until now, but now acknowledged.Commander Uhura, Chief Engineer MontgomeryScott, Commander Pavel Chekov, and HikaruSulu, recently promoted to captain, hadclustered together along one arc of the circle. Everymember of the ship's company showed the strain of the harrowingpast few days, except Lieutenant Saavik.Her Vulcan training required her to beimperturbable, and so she appeared. If herRomulan upbringing gave her the capacity to feelSTAR TREK 111grief or loss or anger at the death ofSpock, her teacher, McCoy could see no shadowof the emotions.McCoy had known the rest of the ship's company, thetrainees, only a short time, not even long enoughto learn their names. He knew for sure only that theywere terribly young."To Spock," McCoy said. "He gave hislife for ours.""To Spock," they replied in unison, exceptfor Jim, who brought his attention back to the ship fromsome other time, some other place, a thousandlight-years distant.A moment after the others had spoken, he said,"To Spock."Everyone else drank. McCoy put his glassto his lips. The pungent odor of Kentuckybourbon rose around his face. He grimaced. Theliquor was raw and new, straight out of the ship'ssynthesiser. He had nothing better. The Enterprtilde se's mission had been an emergency, anunexpected voyage into tragedy, and LeonardMcCoy had come most poorly prepared.He lowered the drink without tasting it."To Peter," Montgomery Scott said.His young nephew, Cadet Peter Preston, hadalso died in the battle that took Spock's life.Scott made as if to say more, could not get out thewords, and instead drained his glass in one gulp.Again, McCoy could not bring himself to choke down anyliquor.When all the glasses had been refilled,David Marcus stepped forward."To our friends on Spacelab," he said.McCoy pretended to drink. He felt as if thealcohol fumes alone were making him drunk.When no one else came forwardto propose atoast, the quiet circle dissolved into smallgroups. Almost everyone had begun to feel the effectsof the liquor, but the drinking was a futile effortto numb their grief.The Search For SpockWhose stupid idea was it to have a wake, anyway?McCoy wondered. Who thought thiswould help? And then he remembered, Oh, right, itwas me and Scott.He orbited the serving table. It gleamed with anarray of bottles. He picked one up, paying littleattention to what it was, and filled anotherglass. McCoy and Scott had spent all daypreparing for the wake. The synthesiser had triedto keep up with their programming, but it was badlyoverloaded. Ethyl alcohol was a simple enoughchemical, but the congeners any decent liquorrequired were foreign to the ship's data banks.Everything smelled the same strong and rough.Montgomery Scott beetled toward McCoy,stopped, and gazed blankly at the table full ofhalf-emptied bottles. McCoy picked one atrandom and handed it to the ships chief engineer."That's scotch," he said. "Or anyway,close enough."Scott's eyes were glazed with exhaustion andgrief."I recall a time, when the lad was nobbut abairn, that he. . ." Scott stopped, unableto continue the story. "I recall a time when Mr.Spock..." He stopped again and drank straight fromthe bottle, choking on the first gulp, but swallowing andswallowing again. Obsession and compulsion drove him.He and McCoy hadplanned the wake and insisted on holding it, thoughit was foreign to the traditions of most of the people on boardand quite alien to the traditions of one of itssubjects."This isna helping, doctor," Scotty said."I canna bear it any longer."McCoy climbed onto a chair. Lookingdown, he hesitated. The deck layridiculously far away and at a strange angle,as if the artificial gravity had gone on theblink. McCoy steadied himself and stepped up on thetable, placing his feet carefully between bottles brightSTAR TREK 111with amber. Then he remembered an alien liquorcalled "amber" by Earth people. He had not ordered it fromthe synthesiser because it required the inclusion of analien insect to bring out its fullest flavor, likewormwood in absinthe. McCoy felt vaguelysick.His foot brushed one of the bottles quite gently,he thought and the bottle crashed onto its side. Itspun around and its contents gurgled out, spilling acrossthe table, splashing on the floor. McCoy ignoredit."This is a wake, not a funeral!" he said, thenstopped, confused. Somehow that sounded wrong. Hestarted again. "We're here to celebrate the lives ofour friends not to mourn their deaths!" Everyone waslooking at him. That bothered him until he thought,Why did you get up on the table, if you didn'twant everyone to look at you?"Grief," McCoy said slowly, "is notlogical.""Bones," Jim Kirk said from below and slightlybehind him, "come down from there."Even in his odd mental state, McCoy couldhear the edge in Kirk's voice. I backslashventy years of friendship, and Kirk was still perfectlycapable of pulling rank. McCoy turned andstaggered. Jim grabbed his forearm and tightened his gripmore than necessary."Whatever possessed you to say such a thing?"Kirk said angrily. Even the anger wasinsufficient to hide the pain."Don't know what you mean," McCoy said.Permitting Admiral Kirk to help him, hestepped down from the table with careful dignity.David Marcus had inherited his mother's tolerancefor alcohol. He had drunk several shots of someconcoction as powerful and as tasteless as everclear.Despite a certain remoteness to his perceptions,he feltThe Search For Spockdesperately sober. His hands remainedrock-steady, and his step was sure.McCoy and Scott had insisted, cajoled,ordered, and bullied until nearly the whole ship'scompany congregated in the recreation hall for thisridiculous wake. Alone or in pairs, people stoodscattered throughout the enormous chamber. Across theroom, Dr. McCoy and Admiral Kirkexchanged words. Kirk looked both angry andconcerned. McCoy adopted a belligerent air.They're both completely pickled, Davidthought. Fixed like microscope slides. JamesT. Kirk, hero of the galaxy, is drunk. Myillegitimate father is drunk.David had not yet quite come to terms with the recentrevelation of his parentage."Dr. Marcus hisDavid started. He had been so deep in thought thathe had-not noticed Captain Sulu's approach."It'd probably be easier if everybody justcalled me David," he said."David, then," Sulu said. "I understand that Iowe you some thanks."David looked at him blankly."For saving my life?" Sulu said, with abit of a smile.David blushed. He automatically glanced atSulu's hands, which had been badly seared by theelectrical shock from which David had revived him.The artificial skin covering the burns glistenedslightly.Sulu turned his hands palm-up. "This comes offin a couple of days there won't even be anyscars.""I almost killed you," David said.'iWhat?""It's true I did resuscitation o n you.It's also true that I did it wrong. I'd neverdone it before. I'm not a medical doctor, I'monly a biochemist.""Nevertheless, I'm alive because of what you did.STAR TREK 111Whether you erred or not, you kept me from death orbrain damage.""I still screwed up." Like I may have screwedup everything I've done for the last two years,David thought."It might not matter to you," Sulu said. "But itmakes some difference to me." He turnedaway.David blushed again, realising how churlish andself-cantered he had sounded. "Captain . . .uh . . ." He had no idea how to apologise.Sulu stopped and faced David again."David," he said, carefully and kindly, "Iwant to give you some advice. When we get backto Earth, you and your mother are going to be the center of somevery concentrated attention. Some of it will be critical,some of it will be flattering. At first you'll think theabuse is the hardest thing to take. But after a while,you'll see that handling compliments gracefully is anorder of magnitude more difficult." He paused.David looked at the floor, then raised hishead and met Sulu's gaze."But I need to learn to do it?" David asked."Yes," Sulu said. "You do.""I'm sorry," David said. "I really amglad you're okay. I didn't mean to soundindifferent. After they took you to sick bay Irealised I'd done the procedure wrong. Ididn't know if you'd make it.""Dr. Chapel assures me that I'll makeit."David noticed that Sulu avoidedmentioning McCoy, but thought better of saying so. Hehad stuck his foot in his mouth far enough for one day."I'm glad I could do something," David said.Sulu nodded and walked away. David had notnoticed if Sulu drank during the toasts, but theyoung captain appeared to be completely sober.The Search For SpockHe might be the only sober person on the shipright now, David thought.But then David saw Lieutenant Saavik,all alone, watching the party without expression. Hewatched her, in turn, for several minutes. Backon Regulus I, she had told him that Spock wasthe most important influence in her life. He hadrescued her from the short, brutal life that ahalfbreedchild on an abandoned Romulancolony world could look forward to. Spock hadoverseen her education. He had nominated her to aplace in the Starfleet Academy. He was,David supposed, the nearest thing she had to afamily. That was a delicate subject. Sheseldom discussed how the cross that produced her musthave come about.David walked up quietly behind her."Hello, David," she said, withoutturning, as he opened his mouth to speak."Hi," he said, trying to pretend she had notstartled him with her preternatural senses. "Can Iget you a drink?""No. I never drink alcohol.""Why not?""It has an unfortunate effect on me.""But that's the whole point. It would help youloosen up. It would help you forget.""Forget what?""Grief. Sadness. Mr. Spock's death.""I am a Vulcan. I experience neither griefnor sadness.""You're not all Vulcan."She ignored the comment. "In order to forget Mr.Spock's death, David, I would have to forget Mr.Spock. That, I cannot do. I do not wish to.Memories of him are all around me. At times itis as if he was She stopped. "I will not forgethim," she said.STAR TREK 111"I didn't mean you should try. I just meant that adrink might make you feel better.""As I explained, its effects on meare not salutary.""What happens?""You do not want to know.""Sure I do. I'm a scientist, remember?Always on the lookout for something to investigate."She looked him in the eye and said,straight-faced, "It causes me to regress.It permits the Romulan elements of my character topredominate."David grinned. "Oh, yeah? Sounds interestingto me.""You would not like it.""Never know until you try.""Have you ever met a Romulan?""Nope.""You are," she said drily, "quite fortunate."Carol Marcus felt very much alone at Mr.Spock's wake. She sat on the arm of a couch,concealed by the subdued light and shadows of a corner of theroom. She felt grateful for the translucentwall that alcohol put between her and the other people, between herand her own emotions. She knew that the purpose of awake was to release emotions, but she held hergrief in tight check. If she loosed it, she wasafraid she would go mad.The pitiful gathering insulted the memory of herfriends more than exalting it. Perhaps Mr. Scott andDr. McCoy believed it adequate for CaptainSpock and Mr. Scott's young nephew. But themourning of a few veteran Starfleet members and asurreptitiously drunken class of cadets,barely more than children, gave Carol no comfort for theloss of her friends on the Spacelab team. Shekept expecting to hear Del March'sThe Search For Spockcheerful profanity, or ZinaidaChitirih-Ra-Payjh's soft and musicallaugh. She expected Jedda Adzhin-Dallto stride past, cloaked in the glow of a Deltan'sunavoidable sexual attraction. And she expectedat every moment to hear VanceMadison's low, beautiful voice, or to glanceacross the room and meet his gaze, or to reach out andtouch his gentle hand.None of those things would ever happen again. Hercollaborators, her friends, were dead, murdered invengeance for someone else's error.Jim Kirk managed to get McCoy down from thetable and away from the center of attention before thedoctor had made too much of a fuss, and, Kirkhoped, without making a fool of either of them."I think you've drunk too much, Bones," hesaid."Me?" McCoy said. "I haven't had nearlyenough."Kirk tried to restrain his anger at McCoy'sjuvenile behavior. "Why don't you get somesleep? You'll feel better in the moming.""I'll feel awful in the morning, Jim-boy.And the morning after that, and his"You'll feel worse if you have to deal with ahangover and the results of a big mouth."McCoy frowned at him blearily, obviouslynot understanding. Kirk felt a twinge of unease.McCoy generally made sense, even when he had hada few too many. In fact, his usual reactionto tipsiness was to become more direct and pithier.Kirk glanced around, seeking Chris Chapel. Hehoped that between them they might get McCoy eithersobered up or asleep. Chapel was nowhere to beseen. He could hardly blame her for avoiding thewake. He wished he were somewhere else himself. Hehad come only because McCoy insisted. Jimsupposed Chris had decided that the hard timeSTAR TREK InMcCoy and Scotty would give her for absentingherself would be less unpleasant than attending. Jimsuspected she was right."Come on, Bones," he said. Back in sickbay, the doctor might be persuaded to prescribehimself a hangover remedy and go to bed."Not going anywhere," McCoy said. Heshrugged his arm from Kirk's grasp. "Going overthere." He walked slowly and carefully to anarmchair and settled into it as if he plannedto remain till dawn. Getting him to his cabin nowwould create a major scene. On the other hand,McCoy no longer looked in the mood to makeproclamations. Jim sighed and left him where hewas.Jim wandered over to Carol. She was alone,surrounded by shadows. They had barely had time to talksince meeting again. Jim was notaltogether sure she wanted to talk to him. He didwant to talk to her, though, about her life since theylast had seen each other, twenty years ago. Butmostly he wanted to talk to her about David. Jimwas getting used to the idea of having a grownson. He was beginning to like the idea of coming to know the youngman."Hi, Carol," he said."Jim."Her voice was calm and controlled. Heremembered that she had always been able to drinkeverybody under the table and never even show it."I was thinking about Spacelab," she said. "And thepeople I left behind. Especially his"You did fantastic work there, you and David.""It wasn't just us, it was the whole team. I neverworked with such an incredible group before. We gotintoxicated on each other's ideas. I could guideit, but Vance was the catalyst. He was extraordinaryhis"Spock spoke highly of them all," Jimsaid. ItThe Search For Spocksurprised him, to be able to say his friend's name soeasily."dance was the only one who could keep his partner fromgoing off the deep end. He had a sort of innerstillness and calm that his"They were the ones who designed computergames on the side? A couple of the cadets weretalking about them.""dis . . that affected us all.""David and our Lieutenant Saavik seemto be hitting it off pretty well," Jim said.David and Saavik stood together on the other sideof the recreation hall, talking quietly."I suppose so," Carol said without expression."She has a lot of promise Spock had greatconfidence in her.""Yes.""I'm sorry I had to meet David and you andI had to meet again in such unhappycircumstances," he said.The look in her eyes was cold and bitter andfull of pain."That's one way to put it," she said."Carol his"I'm going to bed," she said abruptly. Shestood up and strode out of the recreation room.Jim followed her. "I'll walk you to yourcabin," he said. He took her silence foracquiescence.With some curiosity, Saavik watched AdmiralKirk and Dr. Marcus leave together. Ofcourse she knew that they had been intimate manyyears before. She wondered if they intended to resumetheir relationship. She had observed the customs ofyounger humans, students, while she was in theAcademy, however, andSTAR TREK 111she now noted the absence of any indication of strongattraction between Marcus and Kirk. Perhaps olderhumans observed different customs, or perhaps thesetwo individuals were simply shy. Mr. Spockhad told her that she must learn to understand human beings.As a project for her continuing education in theircomprehension, she resolved to study the admiral and thedoctor closely and see what transpired.After Dr. Marcus and the admiral left therecreation hall, Saavik returned her attentionto the gathering as a whole. She wondered if there weresomething in particular she was supposed to do. Keepingher own customs after the deaths of Mr. Spock andPeter Preston, she had watched over their bodiesthe night before Mr. Spock's funeral. Onlyyesterday morning she stood with the rest of the ship'scompany and sent his coffin accelerating toward theGenesis planet. She wished she could havesent young Peter's body into space, too. He hadloved the stars, and Saavik believed it would havepleased him to become star-stuff. But his body was theresponsibility of Chief Engineer Scott,who had decreed he must be taken back to Earth andburied in the family plot.Everyone assumed Captain Spock's casketwould burn up in the outer atmosphere of the Genesisworld. So Admiral Kirk had intended. ButSaavik had disobeyed his order. Instead, sheprogrammed a course that intersected the last fadingresonance of the Genesis effect. When the coffinencountered the edge of the wave, matter had explodedinto energy. Within the wave, the energy that had beenSpock's body coalesced into sub-quarkianparticles, thence, in almost unmea-surable fractionsof a second, to normal atomic matter. He wasnow a part of that distant world. He was gone. She wouldnever see him again.The Search For SpockShe wondered how long she would be affected by thepersistent, illogical certainty that he remainednearby."David," she said suddenly, "what isthe purpose of this gathering?"David hesitated, wondering if he understood itwell enough to explain it to anyone else. "It's atradition," he said. "It's like Dr. McCoy saida while ago, it's to celebrate the lives of peoplewho have died.""Would it not make more sense to celebrate while aperson is still living?""How would you know when to have thecelebration?""You would have it whenever you liked. Then no death wouldbe necessary. The person being celebrated could attend theparty, and no one would have to feel sad."David wondered if she were pulling his leg. Hedecided that was an unworthy suspicion. Besides,he could see her point."The thing is," he said, "the funeral yesterday,and the wake today . . . they aren't really for the people whodied.""I do not understand.""They're for the people who are left behind. People humans,I mean need to express their feelings. Otherwisewe bottle them up inside and they make us sick."This sounded like the purest hocus-pocusto Saavik, who had spent half her lifelearning to control her emotions."You mean," she said" "this procedure is meantto make people feel better?""That's right."STAR TREK 111"Then why does everyone look so unhappy?"David could not help it. He laughed.The door to Carol's cabin sensed her and slidopen. She stopped. Jim stopped. Carol saidnothing. Jim tried to decide on exactly the rightwords."Carom""Good night, Jim.""But his"Leave me alone!" she said. The evenness of hervoice dissolved in anger."I thought . . .""What? That you could come along after twenty years andpick up again right where you left off?""I was thinking more in terms of "we."""Oh, that's cute there never was any"we!""""There's David.""Do you think you're so great in bed that nowoman would ever want another man after you? Do youthink I've spent all these years just waiting for youto come back?""NO, of course not. But was He stopped. Thatshe might be involved with someone else simply had notoccurred to him, and he was embarrassed to admit it."Of course I didn't mean that," he said. "Butwe were good together, once, and we're both alone his"Alone!" Her eyes suddenly filled with tears."Carol, I don't understand.""dance Madison and I were lovers!""I didn't realise," he said lamely."You would have, if you'd listened. I've been tryingto talk about him. I just wanted to talk about himto somebody. Even to you. I want people to remember whathe was like. Hedeserves to be remembered. I dream abouthim I dream about the way he died hisThe Search For SpockJim took a step backward, retreating from thefury and accusation in her voice. His old enemy,Khan Singh, had murdered all the members of theGenesis team except Carol and David. The peoplehe captured refused to give him the informationhe demanded, so he killed them. He opened a veinin Madison's throat and let him slowly bleedto death.Carol flung herself into her cabin. The doorslid shut behind her, cutting Jim Kirk off, allalone, in the passageway outside.David finally stopped laughing. He wiped hiseyes. Saavik hoped he would explain to her whathe found so funny.She watched him intently. He looked up. Theirgazes met.He glanced quickly away, then back again.David's eyes were a clear, intense blue.She reached toward him, realised what she was doing,and froze. David touched her before she could drawaway."What is it?" he said. He wrapped his fingersaround her hand in an easy grip.He could not hold her hand without heracquiescence, for she could crush his bones with asingle clenching of her fist. This she had no intention ofdoing."For many years," Saavik said, "I have triedto be Vulcan.""I know."David was one of the few people with whom she had everdiscussed her background. Though she had learnedto control her strongest emotions most of the time, shenever pretended to herself that they were nonexistent."But I am not all Vulcan, and I will neverbe," sheSTAR TREK 111said, "any more than Mr. Spock. He said to me. . ." She paused, uncertain how David wouldreact. "He said I was unique, and that I mustfind my own path.""Good advice for anybody," David said.Saavik drew her hand from David's grasp andpicked up his drink. She barely tasted it. Theraw, unaged alcohol slid fiery across hertongue, and the potent fumes seemed to go straightto her brain. She put down the glass. Davidwatched her curiously."David," she said hesitantly, "I am underthe impression that you have positive feelings towardme. Is that true?""It's very true," he said."Will you help me find my path?""If I can.""Will you come to my cabin with me?""Yes," he said. "I will.""Now?"In reply, he put his hand in hers again, and theywalked together from the recreation hall.Jim Kirk strode down the corridor,upset, angry, embarrassed.He nearly ran into his son and LieutenantSaavik."Oh Hi, kids." He collected himselfquickly. Long years of experience had made him anexpert at hiding distress from subordinates."Uh . . . hi," David said. Saavik saidnothing; she simply gazed at him with her coolimperturbability."Got to be too much for you in there?" Kirk said,nodding toward the rec hall behind them. "I never should havelet McCoy and Scott have their way about it."They looked at him without replying. After a longhesitation, Saavik finally spoke.The Search For Spock"Indeed," she said, -- "it is not a ceremonyCaptain Spock would have approved. It is neitherlogical nor rational."Kirk flinched at the echoes of Spock'svoice in Saavik's words. He had known Spocklonger than she had, but she had spent more time working with theVulcan in the past few years, when Kirk was tiedto a desk by an unbreakable chain of paperwork."Perhaps you're right," he said. "But funerals andwakes aren't for the person who is dead, they're for thepeople left behind.""It is interesting," Saavik said, "that Davidsaid precisely the same thing. I fail, however,to grasp this explanation.""It isn't easily explained," Kirk said."And I can understand why you wouldn't think of Spock inrelation to a gathering where everybody was doing their bestto get drunk. I was going to go to the observation deck,instead. Have either of you been up there? David,surely you haven't had a chance to see it. Would you liketo come along?""I am familiar with the observation deck,"Saavik said."I'd sure like to see it," David said, "anyother time. But Lieutenant Saavik wantedto check some readings on the bridge."Kirk glanced from David, to Saavik, andback. Saavik started to say something, butstopped. A blush colored David'stransparently faircomplexion. Kirk realised that he had put hisfoot in his mouth for the second time in ten minutes.He, too, began to blush."I see," he said. "Important work. Carryon, then." He turned and strode quickly away.Saavik watched him until he had passed out ofsight around a corner.STAR TREK lll"Nothing needs to be checked on the bridge,David," she said."I had to say something," David said. "Ididn't want to discuss our personal affairs withhim. It isn't any of his business.""But why did he not remind you that the computer wouldannounce any change in the ship's status?""I don't know," David said, though he knewperfectly well."He has not commanded a starship in a long time,"she said. "Perhaps he forgot.""That must be it."They continued down the corridor to Saavik'scabin. Inside, David blinked, waitingfor his eyes to accustom themselves to the low light. Theroom held no decorations, only the severefurnishings standard issue in Starfleet, but the warmand very dry air carried a hot, resiny scent, like thesunbaked pitch of pine trees at high noon insummer.Saavik stopped with her back to David."Saavik," David said, "I just want you to knowmaybe we don't need to worry, but where I wasraised it's good manners to tell you I passed allmy exams in biocontrol. his"I, too," she said softly. "I always regardedlearning to regulate the reproductive abilitymerely as an interesting exercise. Until now . .."Her voice trailed off.David realised that she was trembling. He puthis hands gently on her shoulders."I have traveled far, and I have seen much,"Saavik said. "I have studied.... But study andaction are very different.""I know," David said. "It's all right, it willbe all right."Saavik reached up, and her hair fell freearound herThe Search For Spockshoulders. It was thick and soft and dark, and itsmelled of evergreens.Jim Kirk did go to the observation deck. Heopened the portals and spent a long time staring at thestars. After a while, the romantic in his soulovercame the admiral in his mind. The pain andgrief surrounding Spock's death eased, theembarrassing encounter with David and Saavik beganto seem humorous, and even hismisunderstanding of Carol's wishes became lesslacerating in his memory. The whole galaxy layaround hirn.He fancied he could still see the star of the Genesisworld, far behind, a hot white star red-shifted towardyellow as the Enterprise raced away, anunimposing young star made fuzzy by the planetarynebula that surrounded it, by the remnants of theMutara Nebula. The matter in the nebula hadbeen blasted apart by the Genesis wave, blasted beyondatoms, beyond subatomic particles, beyond quarks,down to the subelementary particles that VanceMadison and his partner Del March had whimsicallynamed"sparks" and "boojums."Khan Singh had set off the Genesis wave inan attempt to destroy Jim Kirk, anattempt that had very nearly succeeded. Thus he setinmotion what? Even Carol could not say. Theresonances in the wave were designed to work upon a verydifferent environment. No one could know what had comeinto existence on theGenesis world without going back and exploring it.Jim Kirk had many reasons for wanting to see thatdone and, what was more, for wanting to do it himself.First he had to return to Earth. To accomplish that,he needed a crew that in the morning would be able to thinkof something other than their hangovers. RealizlgSTAR TREK 111ing that he had been up here all alone for nearlyan hour, he decided it was about time to go back to therecreation deck and shut things down.He closed the portals against the stars.David dozed in the intoxicating warmth ofSaavik's body. Vulcans and, Davidsupposed, Romulans, too had a bodytemperature several degrees above that ofhuman beings."Lying next to you is like Iying in the shade on ahot summer's day," Saavik said.David chuckled sleepily. "You must bepsychic.""Only slightly," she said. "Vulcans andRomulans both have the ability in some measure.My talent for it is quite limited. But why do you sayso now?""I was just thinking that Iying next to you is like being inthe sun on the first warm day of spring."She turned suddenly toward him and hugged himclose. Her hair fell across his shoulders. Heput his arms around her and held her. She had beenraised first among Romulans who rejected her,then in the Vulcan tradition which denied any need forcloseness or passion. He wondered if anyone hadever held her before.She drew back and lay beside him, barely touchinghim, as if ashamed of her instant's impulse.David was not so ready to ignore the intimacy.He traced the smooth, strong line ofSaavik's collarbone with the tip of one finger. Hehad never been with anyone like her in his life. Hecaressed the hollow of her throat and cuppedhis hand around the point of her left shoulder. He hadfelt the scar on her smooth skin earlier, but just thenthe time had been wrong for questions. Now, though, hetouched the scar in the dark and found it to be a complex,regular pattern."How'd you get that?" he asked.She said nothing for so long that David wondered ifThe Search For Spockhis bad habit of asking questions off the top of hishead had got him into trouble again."Sorry," he said. "Idle curiosity it'snone of my business.""It is a Romulan family mark," Saaviksaid."A family mark!" She had told him that shedid not know the identity of either of her parents, that shedid not even know which parent was Vulcan and whichRomulan. "Does that mean you could find yourfamily?""David," she said, and he thought he could detecta hint of dry humor in her voice, "why would Iwant to find my Romulan family?"Since the likelihood was that a Romulan hadborne or sired her in orderto demonstrate complete power over a Vulcanprisoner, David could see her point."I never heard of family marks," he said."That is not surprising. Information about them mayonly be passed on orally. It is a capitalcrime in the Romulan empire to make permanentrecords of them. his"Why don't you have the mark removed?Doesn't it remind you of unpleasant times?""I do not wish to forget those times," Saavik said,"any more than I wish to forget Mr. Spock.All those memories are important to me. Besides,it may have its use, someday.""How?""Should I have the misfortune to encounter myRomulan parent, it is absolute proof of ourrelationship.""But if you don't want to know your Romulanparent . . .""The family mark permits me to demandcertain rights," Saavik said. "It would beconsidered very bad manners to refuse a familymember's challenge to a death-duel."STAR TREK 111"A duel!""Yes. How else avenge myself? How elseavenge my Vulcan parent, who surely died withmy birth?"David lay back on the narrow bunk, stunnedby Saavik's matterof-fact discussion of deep,implacable hatred."I never thought of Vulcans as demanding an eyefor an eye and a tooth for a tooth.""But I am not as Vulcans never cease to remindme a proper Vulcan.""Wouldn't it be easier, wouldn't it be safer, to Idon't know, sue the Romulans forreparations?""Spoken like a truly civilised human,"Saavik said. "But if I am only half aVulcan, I am in no part human. Mr.Spock was right I must follow my own path."David moved his hand from her shoulder. The intensityof her feelings surprised him, though it should not, notany more, not after tonight."Don't worry, David," Saavik said, inresponse to his unease. "I am hardly goingto defect to the Romulan empire in order to find acreature I have no real wish to meet. Thechance of my ever meeting my Romulan parent isvanishingly small.""I guess," David said. The Federation had,at best, fragile diplomatic relations with theRomulans. It was a connection like a fuse,continually threatening to burst into flame and ignite a moreserious conflagration.Saavik guided his hand back to her shoulder."It feels good when you touch it," she said. "Thecoolness of your hand is soothing.""Were you born with it? Or is it a tattoo?""Neither. It is a brand.""A brand!""They apply it soon after one is out of the womb.""Gods, what a thing to do to a little baby. Good thingyou can't remember it."The Search For Spock"What makes you think I cannot remember it?"Horrified, David said, "You mean you can?""Of course. The white glow is the first beautifulthing I ever encountered, and its touch was the first pain. Doyou not remember your own birth?""No, not at all. I don't have any reliablememories before I was two or three. Mostpeople don't.""But most people do, David," Saavik said. "Atleast, in my experience. Perhaps you mean most humansdo not?""Yeah," David said. "Sorry. Badhabit.""No offence taken. I am always glad to learnsomething new about a fellow intelligent species.The last few hours have been very rewarding. I havelearned a great deal."David did not know quite how to take that, so hereplied with an inarticulate "Hmm?""Yes," Saavik said. "I feel that myexperiments have been most instructive.""Is that all I am to you?" David said. "Anexperiment?" He suddenly felt very hurt anddisappointed, and he realised that his attraction towardSaavik was a great deal more thanphysical, something much deeper and muchstronger."That is one of the things you are to me," she said in aneven tone. "'And not the least. But not the most, either.You have helped me learn that I have capabilitiesI believed I did not possess.""Like the capacity to love?""I . . . I am unprepared to make thatclaim. I do not even comprehend the concept."David laughed softly. "Neither does anybodyelse.""Indeed? My research is unfinished I thoughtI simply had not encountered a satisfactorydefinition.""It isn't something you can quantify.""Someone should conduct experiments."STAR TREK 111"Experiments!" David said, slightly shocked."Certainly. Perhaps we might collaborate ona paper."Saavik his"I have heard a speculation. I am curiousto know whether it is true, or merelyapocryphal.""All right," David said, beyond surprise."What speculation is that?"Saavik turned toward him, propped herselftilde up on one elbow, and let her hair spillover his shoulder and across his chest."It is," she said, "that Romulans areinsatiable. Would you care to test thishypothesis?"David laughed. He reached up and touched herface in the dark. He traced the lines of herlips, and found that she was smiling. She had justdiscovered another capability that few people wouldsuspect her of possess-ing. She had aterrific sense of humor."Why don't we do that?" David sai d.- Jim Kirk strode into the recreation hall.The wake had deteriorated even further.Cadets stood alone or in small groups, sinkinginto silent depression. Scott clutched a drink andtalked continuously and intensely to a single captivetrainee. McCoy lay sprawled in his chair. Asa catharsis, this gathering was a wretched failure.It succeeded only in intensifying everyone's feelingsof pain and loss and guilt. Kirk stopped by asmall group of cadets."I think it's about time to pack it in for the night,"he said. "You're all dismissed.""Yessir," one of the cadets said. Herrelieved smile, quick, and quickly hidden, was the firstsmile Kirk had seen all day.The cadets, just waiting for an excuse to escapeThe Search For Spocksepulchral atmosphere, all accepted his orderwithout objection or argument. The trainees still soberenough to be ambulatory helped their friends who hadoverin-dulged. Within a few minutes, the onlycadet left was the one listening to Mr. Scott'stirade. Kirk joined them. The cadet lookedpale and drawn."Scatty was Kirk said, when Scott paused forbreath."Aye, Captain, life doesna make sensesometimes, I was just sayin" to Grenni here, "tie thegood ones go before their time his"Mr. Scott hiswas there's no denyin" it. The boy had guts.He had potential his"Commander Scott!""Aye, sir? What's wrong, Admiral? Whyare ye soundin' so perturbed?"Kirk sighed. "Perturbed, Mr. Scott?Whatever makes you think I'm perturbed? You'redismissed,cadet." still"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Thecadet's voice shook. still He fled."Mr. Scott, we'll reach Regulus tomorrow, andI need a coherent crew. Go to bed.""But my poor bairn I wished to have all o' ussing a song for him. Do ye know "Danny Boy,"Captain?""That's an order, Mr. Scott.""Aye, sir." Scott commenced to sing. ""ODanny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling?"'"Mister Scott!"Scott stopped singing and gazed at him blearily,blinking and confused, as Kirk's tone finally got throughto him.""Sing "Danny Boy"" is not an order."Go to bed" is an order.""Oh. Begging your pardon, sir. Aye, sir."STAR TREK 111Scott glanced around him, as if searching for some-thing. Suddenly he looked very tired and old. Hetrudged away.McCoy was the last member of the wake remaining.Jim sat on his heels beside McCoy's chair.The doctor snored softly."Bones," Jim said, shaking him softly."Bones, wake up."McCoy flinched, muttered something incomprehen-sible, and lapsed back into snoring."Come on, old friend." Jim dragged McCoy'sarm across his shoulder and hoisted him to his feet.McCoy sagged against him and muttered a few morewords. Jim froze."What?"',McCoy straightened up, swaying, and lookedKirk directly in the eye."Using a metabolic poison as a recreationaldrug is totally illogical."McCoy collapsed...Chapter 2Dr. Christine Chapel watched herself functionefficiently. She felt very much like two different people,one performing as she should, the other separated from the worldby shock. She felt numb and clumsy. That she couldfunction at all astonished her. Yet she didwhat needed to be done, caring for the crew members,mostly young cadets, who had been injured duringKhanSingh's attacks; dispensing hangover remediesto those who had neglected to take a preventive afterMr. Spock's wake; and looking inoccasionally on Leonard McCoy. She wasextremely concerned about him.She paused in the doorway of the cubicle in whichshe and Admiral Kirk had put him the night before.She left the lights on very low. She suspected thatwhen Leonard woke, his headache would be a creditto its species.He moaned and muttered something. ChrismovedSTAR TREK 111farther into the small room, squinting to see betterin the dim light. Leonard tossed on the bunk, hisface shining with sweat. His tunic was soaked. Chrisfelt his forehead. His temperature was elevated, notyet dangerously so, but certainly enough to make himuncomfortable."Leonard," she said softly.He sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead.Slowly he turned to look at her. He moved ina way she had never seen him move before, but in away that was eerily familiar."Vulcans," he said, in a voice much lowerthan his own, "do not love."Chris took an involuntary step backward."How dare you say that to me?" she said, in aquiet, angry voice. The pain pierced through thenumbness to her enclosed, repressed grief andspread like fire through her. She turned, hiding herface in her hands. She could not break down now. Theship had to have a doctor, and McCoy was in noshape to take over.The obsession she had had with Spock for so long stillembarrassed her, though it had burned out years before.She had forced herself beyond it by sheer determination and by thepower of the knowledge that what she desired from him, he simplycould not give. His inability to respond to her hadnothing to do with Christine Chapel. He had never hadthe choice between "interested" and "uninterested." All histraining and experience required him to be disinterested,and so he had behaved.Once Chris accepted that, she began toappreciate his unique integrity. It took along time for her to get over her youthful fantasies,but once she did, her fondness for Spockstrengthened. Losing a friend, she had discovered in thepast few days, was much worse 28The Search For Spockthan losing a remotely potential andunrequiting lover. Accepting Spock's death, shethought, would be an even longer and more difficult taskthan persuading herself not that he never would love her, butthat he never could.She took her hands from her face andstraightened up, under control again. This was a badtime to cry. Leonard McCoy's sense of humorwas quirky, but not cruel. For him to say what hehad said to her meant either that something was seriously wrongor the simplest, if least flattering, possibilitythat he was still intoxicated.Saavik woke suddenly and sat up, startled.Mr. Spock was speaking to her. His deep voice stillechoed in her cabin. Saavik was not preparedto answer hm.she was dazzled by strange dreams andfantasies."But I am not a Vulcan," she said. "You saidto me hisShe stopped. He was not here he had never beenhere. Spock was gone.Spock's voice had sounded so real . . . butwhat she thought was reality was a cruel dream, and whatfor a moment had seemed impossiblefantasy was real.David lay sleeping beside her, cool and fair.She touched his shoulder lightly. He stirred gentlybut did not wake. Saavik wondered if she could begoing mad with grief, or with guilt. She did notfeel mad.But Spock's voice had seemed so real . . .Delicately, Farrendahl nibbled at thefur-covered web of skin at the base of the first andsecond fingers of her right paw. A bad habit,she knew it, one-she had picked up from a humanshipmate who bit his nails. A human's nailswere such flimsy things that it hardly 29STAR TREK 111mattered whether they were damaged or properlysharp, but Farrendahl would never sink so low as to biteher claws. They were far too useful.At times like these, though, she needed a nervoushabit to fall back on. Her primate-typecrewmates either objected to or thought amusing the moreobvious forms of grooming. Never mind that she foundthem soothing. Farrendahl did not like to be laughedat. Primates, humanoids as they preferredto call themselves in Standard, could be astonishinglyrepellent when they laughed.Farrendahl sat on her haunches in thenavigator's hammock, chewing on her paw andblinking at the unfamiliar stars. Having passed outof Federation space and into the grey area between setborders some hours before, the ship now fell under theprotection of no one. It had become potentialprey to all. This, Farrendahl disliked intensely.A signal came through her console. She blinkedat it, too, then in response to the new orderchanged the course of the ship for the third time in a singlecircadian. The resulting course, if leftunchanged, would bring the ship face to face with theKlingons. This, Farrendahl disliked even more.No wonder their mysterious passenger was unwillingto name a destination. No wonder the ship's grapevinesprouted rumors of an enormous payment to thecaptain. Great wonder, though, if the captainpassed on part of his largesse in the crew'sbonuses without a confrontation."I dislike the scent of this," Farrendahl said.She growled softly in irritation. "It smelledbad when we began, and its odor has becomeprogressively more putrid."Her compatriot bared his teeth in that offensive30The Search For Spockprimate way, and an intermittent choking noisecame from his throat. In short, he laughed."Since when do cats learn anything useful from theirsense of smell?" he said.Compatriot to A high-class word to applyto any member of this ship's crew of ill-mannered,poorly reared mercenaries."Since when," Farrendahl said to Tran, "have Ibeen a cat?" Instead of baring her teeth, which anothermember of her own species would have recognised as athreat, she placed her paw on the scarred controlpanel. She stretched out her fingers so her pawbecame a hand, then slowly extended her claws. Thesharp tips scratched the panel with a gradual,hair-raising shriek."A cat?" Tran exclaimed. "Did Icall you a cat? Who in their right mind would call youa cat?""I saw a cat once," Farrendahl saidmatterof-factly. "It was digging through a garbageheap in a back alley on Amenhotep IX. Idisliked it. Please explain the similarities betweenit and me.""Don't push it , Farrendahl.""But I desire to be enlightened.""All right. Both of you were in the back alley,weren't you?"Farrendahl leapt, knocking Tran to the deck.The artificial gravity, set for economy'ssake at an annoyingly low intensity, turned herattack and Tran's fall into a mostunsatisfactory series of slow bounces. But theyended up as Farrendahl planned, with the human on thefloor and her claws and teeth at his throat. This wasa main reason she never bit her claws."And was there not an ugly monkey-lookingcreature in that same back alley, only insensiblefrom noxious recreational drugs?""Probably there was," Tran said, laughingagain. 31STAR TREK 111Farrendahl bristled her whiskers out,acknowledging Tran's good-humored surrender.She was about to release him when the captain walked inon them. He stopped, folded his arms across his chest,and glared at the crew members."If you two haven't any work, I can findsome," he said. "We don't have time for your continualhorsing around."Farrendahl growled softly and rose, extendingher hand to Tran to help him rise. He leapedto his feet like a gymnast in the low gravity."A cat, a monkey, now a horse,"Farrendahl said in a low voice. "Perhaps ourmysterious mission is to transport a menagerie."Tran chuckled and returned to his place at thecontrol console."I heard that," the captain said. "Tendemerits.""You're in a charming mood today, Captain,"Farrendahl said. She ignored the threat ofdemerits. She had already earned so many that ten morescarcely counted. Demerits were a source of greathilarity among the crew, ever since the time theyprecipitated a minor mutiny. Oneplanetfall, on a more or less civilised world andafter a long, boring journey, the captain forbadeFarrendahl, Tran, and several others to leave theship. Too many demerits, he said. Farrendahlsaid nothing. She simply ignored him, and she and theothers went out anyway.He could have left while they were rousting around. Hecould have locked them off the ship and hired anothercrew. But he stayed where he was, leaving theship open to them when they returned. Apparently hepreferred his tried and semi-competent, ifinsolent, people to a new bunch that he would have to havetrained.The Search For SpockHe continued to assign demerits, but that was theonly time he ever referred to them, and he never againtried to use them for anything.The captain ignored Farrendahl's smartremark and paused at the control console.Farrendahl despised him on every possible level.Hepossessed power and the title of captain not because hedeserved them or had earned them but simply because heowned the ship. He knew little about running it and lessabout the computers that formed its guts."Perhaps you are concerned that we will discover what you arebeing paid for this trip," Farrendahl said, putting himon notice that they all did know and that they allexpected their cut.He glared at her as she slipped smoothly into thenavigator's hammock. He kept his silence.He was a bully, but he was also a coward, and heavoided any serious confrontation withFarrendahl."When do we find out where we are reallygoing?""When you need to know," he said."Waste of fuel," Farrendahl said just loudly enoughfor him to hear. It amused her that he would worry thecomment around in his mind, trying to find a way to conservethe fuel wasted by their roundabout route. If he had everlearned to pilot his ship himself, he would not have to dependon Farrendahl. She supposed she should begrateful for his lack of application.The contempt in which she held him wasdiluted by her awareness of her own failings andlimitations. She had been disappointed when, after the"mutiny," the captain capitulated to hisimpertinent crew. But she might have found anotherberth whatever else she was, she was an ablenavigator, and nabled tilde and then a shipmasterturned up who was willing to waive small matterslike papers and background. She could haveSTAR TREK 111found another place, but she did not. Inertiakept her in the same, riskless position. Beneath hercontempt for the captain lurked a certaincontempt for herself. Perhaps they deserved each other.The captain remained by the console, his attitudethat of one studying the readings, his eyes with the blankstare of someone who had no idea what he was lookingat."We're on course," Farrendahl said, "aslong as you don't have any more changes in mind.Unless you do, I am going to sleep."Lacking any reply, she slid from the hammockand padded away toward her cabin.David stepped out of the turbo-lift, onto thebridge. Saavik, already on duty, glanced overher shoulder at him. A look passed between them that theyinnocently assumed no one else noticed orunderstood. Saavik returned her attention to her workas if it were easy for her. David wrestled himselfback to this morning and away from last night.It must be nice, David thought, to have the abilityto control your feelings so completely. Being ableto focus one's attention on a single subjectgave remarkable results."Good morning, David," James Kirk said."Uh, hi." David could not bring himself to callKirk "father." More than twenty years lay between them,years during which they could have known each other.David wondered what he would be like if he had knownJames Kirk as his father when it might have made adifference. He had found some reason to respect theStarfleet officer. Affection would take longer.Kirk responded to David's unease. "Howwould you feel about calling me 'Jim"?" 34The Search For Spock"Okay, I guess."Kirk paused for a moment, then turned away again.David realised had hurt the admiral's feelingswith his lukewarm response."This is going to take some getting used to," hesaid."Yes," Kirk said. "For me, too. We needto talk about it. In private." comaDavid took the hint and kept the personalmatters to himself, saving them for someplace other than thebridge of the Enterprise."There it is," Kirk said.In the viewscreen, Regulus I hung dark andmysterious before them. The barren worldlet had always givenDavid an eerie feeling. It had never evolvedlife. It had never had a chance of evolving life.It had no water and no air and too little gravityto hold either one. But Genesis had changedall that. The planetoid's interior had beenturned into an entire, new, inside-out world, one withan ecosystem designed from scratch by CarolMarcus' team. It was like a Jules Verne novelbrought to reality, and David was proud of his part increating it. The memory of the short time he had spentbeneath the surface of the world remained as a warm glow ofpride and power. He wanted to go back inside andexplore. No experiment ever turned outprecisely as one planned. David wantedto discover theunexpected results. They were always the mostinteresting.Spacelab drifted in its orbit, a shadowedsilver flash against the limb of the planetoid. TheStarfleet science ship Grissom lay in amatching orbit, waiting for the Enterprise. The shipand the laboratory satellite gradually entered theshadow of their primary, vanishing into the featurelessdarkness. David shivered. He had lived and workedon the research station for two years. He had calledit home. Now it felt alien and threatening. IfSTAR TREK 111hauntings were possible, it must be haunted.On Spacelab, no one was left alive. Thebodies of the people Khan Singh had murdered laywaiting to be returned to Earth and to their graves.As the transporter beam faded from the newlymaterialised form of Captain J.t. Esteban,James Kirk waited to greet him. Estebanstepped down. They shook hands."Welcome aboard, J.t.," Kirk said."It's been a while.""It has that," Esteban said. "An eventfulwhile, too. You folks have things in quite a tizzy,back home."Kirk led Esteban to the nearest turbo-lift."I don't believe I follow you," he said."Will Dr. Marcus-be available, Jim?"J.t. said. "I need to talk to the both of you."They stepped into the lift. "Officer's lounge,"Jim said, and felt the faint acceleration as the liftwhisked them toward their destination. "I'll have Dr.Marcus paged." Kirk contacted Uhura."Uhura, Kirk here. Would you ask Dr.Marcus to meet Captain Esteban and me in theofficer's lounge?""Certainly, Admiral.""Thanks. Kirk out. was He turned offtheintercom. He could sense the tension in the captainof the Grissom. "What's going on, J.t.?""I just think it would save time to talk to you both atonce." Esteban was deliberatelymisunderstanding the question, and Jim did not push it. Theytried to make small talk, but it was strained."The galaxy ships are already paying off,"Esteban said. "Have you heard?""We've been out of touch," Jim said drily."Of course. But a subspace transmission justcame 36The Search For Spockthrough it made all the news services.Magellan is in Andromeda. It just completed the firstclose-range observation of a supernova.""That's very impressive," Jim said. And for allhis offhandedness, he was impressed. Andromeda!Another galaxy, millions and millions oflight-years away. A different ship, with adifferent crew and a different commander, had reached itfirst. He made a mental note to tell Mr.Sulu the news of Magellan, for Sulu and thegalaxy ship's captain, Mandala Flynn, hadbeen the closest of friends for a long time.They reached the officer's lounge and went inside.Carol had not yet arrived."Jim?""Eh?" Kirk realized J.t. had spokento him, but had no idea what he had said. "I'msorry, what did you say?""I said Magel lan is a bit of atechnological trick. It's too small to doanything but quick and dirty scouting missions. And ifthey encounter hostiles, what can they do but turn tailand run?""No doubt you're right," Jim said. He triedto imagine something that might cause Mandala Flynnto turn tail and run. He failed."No, it's Excelsior that's the wave of thefuture," J.t. said.The door to the lounge slid open to admit CarolMarcus, accompanied by David. Carol noddedto Jim coolly; if she was not still angry at him,at best she was not yet willing to forget about lastnight's conversation."Carol," Jim said, "this is J.t.Esteban, commanding the Grissom. J.t., Dr.Carol Marcus, and her son . . ." Jimpaused, thinking he really should say, "Ourson," but deciding not to because it would take so longto explain. "Her son, Dr. David Marcus."STAR TREK 111"Two for the price of one," David said.Jim chuckled and Carol smiled. Missing thejoke, J.t. rubbed his jaw and frowned."This is sensitive information," he said. "Ionly expected Dr. Marcus, senior." -David's smile vanished. "I can take ahint," he said. He headed toward the door, theirritation in his voice mirrored in hisstiff-shouldered walk."David was Jim said, but David keptwalking."David, wait," Carol said.David hesitated, then glanced back."David is a full member of the Genesisteam, Captain Esteban," Carol said. "He andI are the only surviving principalinvestigators. Anything you have to say about Genesis,you must say to him as well as to me.""The first thing I have to say is I wish you'dcalled it something else," Esteban said."I don't understand what you mean.""It's too late now, but it wasn't the wisestmove you could have made, in terms of p.r. Never mindthat, for the moment. Dr. Marcus was Headdressed David this ffme. "I apologise formy bad manners. Please come sit down with the restof us. We have a great deal to talk over."They sat around one of the small tables next to thestar portals, and Esteban described thecircumstances they would return to on Earth."The news of the Genesis effect created . . .shall we say, a sensation," J.t. saiduncomfortably.In all the years Jim had known J.t.Esteban, he had never seen him lose hiscomposure. Anything and everything, no matter howstrange, no matter the stress, he had always takeneasily, even phlegmatically, in his stride.Jim had read the reports of some of his missions.Esteban had come up against extraordinarilyThe Search For Spockchallenging events, and he had prevailed. To seehim so agitated about Genesis disturbed Jim morethan anything the younger Starfleet officer could tellhim."Of course it did," David said. "That'ssort of the point, isn't it? We've madepossible the elimination of poverty. We've made thereasons for war completely untenable his"You've created a device that could destroy thegalaxy. That's what our adversaries perceive, notuniversal peace and plenty. They have demandedmultilateral parity his"You mean they want Genesis, too," Carolsaid."Precisely.""Why don't you give it to them?" David said."DavidI"...Jim said, shocked. "We didn'tjust go through the last few days so we could turnGenesis over to an enemy power. Your friends didn'tdie resisting Khan so you could hand over the discoveryto the next person who demanded it.""That was different," David said. "Khan wantedit for revenge. Revenge against you."Jim scowled, but did not reply to the jab."I'm not talking about giving it to every crazy whocomes along," David said. "I'm talking aboutmaking Genesis openly available for transforminglifeless worlds.""That is absolutely outside the.realmof possibility," J.t. said."But that's what we made it for!""My dear boy," J.t. said.Jim winced, seeing David bristle."My dear boy," J.t. said, "we can't giveit to anyone else. That would be too dangerous.""The Federation is the only organisation with thewisdom to decide on its use?" Carol saiddryly."I'm glad you understand Starfleet's theFedera39STAR TREK 111tion's position, Dr. Marcus," J.t.said, missing the irony the same way he alwaysmissed jokes."Oh, I understand it, all right," Carol said."That doesn't mean that I accept it.""I knew it!" David shouted. "You just can'tkeep your hands off any discovery, can you? You haveto grab it and hoard it and twist it until you canfigure out a way to use it for destruction!""David, relax," Jim said."We would hardly have to do much figuring, now, wouldwe?" Esteban said. "The evidence for thedestructive power of Genesis is its firstdeployment. It completely recreated the substanceof the Mutara Nebula, a volume of space somehundred astronomical units in radius. Itdestroyed Reliant and all the people on board. Itnearly destroyed the Enterprise, and it did causethe death of his"Indirectly," Jim Kirk snapped. "Wewere involved in hostilities his"Because of Genesis!""Not entirely," Jim said. David was rightKhan Singh had intended to use Genesis to wreakrevenge upon James Kirk. But he had stumbledupon the project by chance, then turned it to hispurposes. He had succeeded better than he couldhave known."You're hardly being fair, Captain," Carolsaid. "The Genesis device was obviously nevermeant in any form to go off inside a ship. Thatparticular device was never intended to go off within anebula.""But that's precisely my point, doctor! Afterall that's happened, how can you argue that the devicecannot be an instrument of terrorism?""But if everybody has it there isn't any needfor terrorism!" David said.Carol was touched by David's naivete, Jim wasThe Search For Spocksurprised by it, and J.t. thought he was beingdeliberately, perhaps even maliciously, dense."Your discovery may eliminate poverty. Butit'll hardly change the natures of sentient beings.It won't eliminate greed or lust for power orsimple error, and it most certainly won'teliminate ideology. The drive to convert people'sminds and hearts has caused more grief, more suffering,more loss of life than any desire for property,riches, or even the necessities ofsurvival."""Very eloquent, Captain," David saidsarcastically. "I take it you mean ourideology requires us to pervert Genesis into aweapon before anybody else gets a chance to?""It's hardly productive to ascribemalicious motives to everybody who disagrees withyou, David," Jim said sharply."What has to be done with Genesis isn't upto me to say," J.t. said. "Or to any of us.""You're entitled to your opinion," (carol said.David jumped to his feet. "I alwayssaid the military'd try to take Genesis away fromus! I suppose if I try to call the FederationScience Network in on this, you'll throw me in thebrigl""Sit down and shut up, David," Jim said."If anybody gets thrown in the brig on thisship, it'll be by me. And you're making it mightytempting to send you to bed without your supper."David glared at him with a sudden flare ofresentment that surprised Jim completely."Try it and see how far you get!" Davidglared at Kirk, then at Esteban. "I don'tsee any point in continuing this discussion." Hestalked away."Come back here, David," Jim said."Do you think you can make me? You and who else?"He strode from the lounge.STAR TREK 111Jim started to rise.Carol put one hand on his arm."Let him go, Jim. He'll be all right whenhe cools down. was She smiled. "That's anotherway he's like you. his"I was never that hotheaded!"Carol looked at him askance. Jimreluctantly sat down again.He realised that J.t. was watching them with bothcuriosity and confusion. He deserved at least someexplanation."David is my son, as well as Carol's,"he said."Oh," J.t. said. "Er. . . I didn'trealize you had any children."Neither did I, Jim thought, but what he said outloud was, "Just the one.""How did we get off on this track,anyway?" J.t. said. "What I asked you hereto tell you is that Grissom has been ordered to theMutara sector to make a complete survey of theGenesis world. We can hardly discuss it, with ourallies or with our adversaries, unless we know moreabout the effect and its consequences. Dr. Marcus,I've been directed to transfer you to my ship. his"What?" Carol said."Obviously, we need you to supervise theobservations his"Forget it," Carol said."I beg your pardon?""What the hell do you think I am?"Transfer" me? Like a crate of supplies?Do you think I'm a robot?""I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't follow youat all.""Six people died on Spacelab. I wasresponsible for them and they were my friends! I owe them.At the very least I owe them the courtesy of tellingtheir families what happened!""Their families know of the tragedy . . ."The Search For Spock"What did you do send telegrams? Mygods!""I feel sure things were handled with more . . . moredelicacy than you suspect.""I don't care," Carol said. "I'm not goingback to Genesis, not now. I won't discuss itany further.""But his"The subject is closed."She stood abruptly and strode from the lounge,leaving Jim and J.t. together in awkward silence."Well," J.t. said finally, "I didn'thandle either one of them very well, did I? Maybeif I ask her again a little later ?""I wouldn't advise it," Jim said.Valkris knelt on the floor of her cabin,meditating. The low gravity of the mercenary's shipmade the discipline very difficult. Remaining in oneposition for a great length of time required no strengthof will, where gravity put little stress on the body.Meditation was one of the few ways she had of passingthe time during the miserable boredom of spacetravel when one was merely a passenger, a lonepassenger at that. She had been more accustomed to flyingher own ship, before her family fell upon hard times.This mission would rebuild her family's fortuneand its honor. She resisted unseemly pride itwas merely her duty to repair the damage doneto all their reputations by the actions of her olderbrother. Kiosan had never forgiven their family forchoosing Valkris, rather than him, to lead them.In his despair and envy he set out to prove howspectacularly correct the family had beento overlook him. He reneged on all the vows hehad made when he came of age. He put asidehis veil and showed his face to the world. He addictedhimself to pleasure, and he showed no desire to change.Valkris offered him the43STAR TREK 111opportunity to return to the family three times,and even a fourth, though the fourth offer strained hersense of aesthetics. Not only did he refusehe dared her to break her own word and join him.Valkris had disowned her brother with a regret sointense that to this moment she felt the pain. ButKiosan's actions had sent their family'sreputation and merit into an inexorable slide that could notbe reversed unless he repented or she released him.So Valkris had set him free. To all her otherblood kin, he was dead. But he was still very much aliveto Valkris, and when she thought of him, as she oftendid, she wished him well in his freedom and enviedhim more than a little.She had made vows, too. Every member of eachof the great families took the vows upon coming of age.Despite the example of her older brother,Valkris was unable to break them. Every action she hadtaken since accepting her position had been intendedto benefit the family. She had never fled a duel.She had never even lost a duel, though she borescars from wounds that would have proven her honor even hadshe yielded to the opponent who inflicted them. Becauseof her reputation for ferocious tenacity, shehad not been challenged in some years. Valkris didnot fight for an afternoon's entertainment. She had buriedmore opponents than she had permitted to be helped fromthe field.It was good that the family would recover fromKiosan's foolishness. It was better that it wasValkris who designed the recovery, and who wouldcarry it out.She extended both her hands and clenched her fingersinto fists, feeling the tension and the strength in her long,strong muscles. She rose smoothly to her feetand made a hand signal before the sensor of the intercom.The Search For Spock"Yes?" the captain of the mercenary vessel saidafter a moment."The gravity in my cabin is very weak. Irequire it to be increased.""There's a matter of the extra fuel to run thegrav generators.""You will not lose by acceding to my requests,captain," Valkris said. She was tired enough of hispettiness to consider making him a challenge. Sheresisted the unworthy impulse. She could gain nohonor by vanquishing such a creature. Hehad no style."Very well," the captain said disagreeably.A short time later the gravity in Valkris'cabin began to increase. She knelt again and composedherself for meditation. When the force increased well beyond thatof her home world, she simply smiled and set herselfto find the discipline she had been seeking.Saavik did her work automatically. She hadpracticed on the bridge of the Enterprise so oftenthat the responses came without her conscious thought.Any change, any anomaly, would call itself to herattention instantly. For the moment everything was normalas normal as it could be for a half-crippled ship soSaavik could think of other things.She thought about David, she thought about Mr.Spock, and she thought about the strangeness of herlife. Mr. Spock had helped her transformherself from a starving, abandoned, illiterate child-thiefinto a polished, controlled, and well-educatedStarfleet officer. Under most circumstances she wasthe very model of Vulcan propriety. That had beenher goal, until her last conversation with Spock."You must find your own path," he had said. Thewisdom of his words impressed her. He had toldher she might find herself consideringSTAR TREK 111possibilities that she knew he would notapprove. She should not, he said, dismiss them on thatcriterion alone. Instead, she should remain opento them.The path she had chosen last night led into theunexplored regions of her Romulan heritage.Spock would most certainly not have encouraged such ajourney. For that reason Saavik found even morecause to admire his insight into her character and his own.Saavik thought about her life, she thought about Mr.Spock, and she thought about her thoughts kept coming backto David."Lieutenant Saavik.""Yes, Admiral." Saavik turned to faceAdmiral Kirk, who had just stepped onto thebridge with an unfamiliar officer CaptainEsteban of the Grissom, by his uniform andinsignia."J.t.," Kirk said, "this is LieutenantSaavik. Lieutenant, Captain Esteban ison a survey trip to Genesis. He needs someonealong who has a scientific background, and whowitnessed the creation of the world. Dr. Marcushas declined to go. Would you care to volunteer?""Aye, Admiral," she said. She thought ofDavid. The words tasted bitter. She turnedback to her console.Chris Chapel paused at McCoy's bedsideand felt his forehead again. His fever had receded, andshe had heard him move restlessly as if he were aboutto wake up."Chris?""Yes, Leonard." She tried to keep the raggedwariness from her voice, but the pain still showed. Whateverhis excuse for saying a very Vulcan thing to her in acreditable imitation of Spock's voice, it had stillhurt her badly.The Search For Spock"What's going on? What happened?""What do you mean, Leonard? Since you spoketo me last? Since last night? Since we leftSpacedock? What's the matter with you?""I . . . I don't know. Everything seems sostrange."She felt concerned enough about him to turn on themedical sensors above his bed. She had held offdoing so earlier because she knew what he wouldsay if he awoke to find them quietly talkingto themselves over his head."What're you doing? I'm not sick. I don'tneed those damned blinkenlightzen interrupting mysleep."Chris managed to laugh. "That's more like it," shesaid. She watched the sensors through a couple ofcycles. Nothing seemed amiss.Leonard's temperature had droppedto normal. His body chemistry showed no evidenceof the metabolic breakdown products of alcohol.But if he had not been drunk last night . . .what had affected him? She turned off the sensors."What time is it?" he asked."Eight hundred hours.""Good lord."Without comment, Chris let him sit up. If hewas well enough to help, all the better."Leonard," she said."Hm?""Why did you say that to me?""What?""A little while ago you woke up, and you said,"Vulcans do not love." his"My gods, Chris," he said, shocked."Did I? I'm sorry. All night I'vebeen having those horrible dreams where you can't tellif they're real or not. I can't even rememberanything about them except how frightening and how real theywere. I guess I must have been dreaming . . . aboutSpock."STAR TREK 111"I see," she said."I never would have said such a thing if I'd knownwhat I was saying. Will you accept my apology?""Yes," she said. Wanting to forget about it assoon as possible, she changed the subject. "Areyou well enough to go on duty? Someone has to accompanyCarol Marcus to Spacelab. I think it should beone ofus. his"Good gods Jim isn't going to let anybodygo down there to wasHe jumped out of bed. Chris caught him when hestaggered and nearly fell."I'm all right just stood up too fast.""Uh-huh." She helped him sit on the edgeof the bed. "You're in no condition to leave the shimespecially since l don't know what'swrong with you.""But his"Don't be an ass, Leonard. You can stay hereand rest under your own authority, or you can stay underAdmiral Kirk's orders. Your choice.""I forbid you was He stopped. "Sorry.Chris, I've already been down there I've seen .. . what happened to Carol Marcus's friends.Letting her see it would be cruel.""I saw the records you made surely youdidn't think I'd take Carol into that was Theviolence of the murders flashed unbidden into her mind."Grissom's medical officer has already taken ateam into the space station," Chris said. "The . . .casualties . . . are in stasis. The sites arein order." The technical words made thedescriptions easier to say."Chris, if you're sure his"What I said before still holds. You're staying here,under any circumstances."McCoy stopped trying to hide his exhaustion.He sagged back on his bunk.The Search For Spock"I'm just overtired," he said. "Don'ttrouble Jim with this.""That's up to you.""I'll stay in sick bay."Chris nodded, relieved at his acquiescence.The codes and the documentation for Genesis had to beretrieved from Regulus I; the bodies of KhanSingh's victims had to be formally identified andtransferred to the Enterprise. Carol walked towardthe transporter room, dreading the task that facedher. David, beside her, suddenly touched her elbow anddrew her to a halt."What's the matter, David?""There's no reason for you to go down there. I can .. . take care of everything.""I hardly need to be protected by my ownson," Carol said. "This is myresponsibility.""Mother his"David, we both lost friends in this disaster,"Carol said. One of the ways she could hold off hergrief was by reminding herself continually that she was notalone.was I know that Vance was more than just a friend to you.""I know you know it. Did you think we thought we weresecret lovers?" She herself had thought it mustbe obvious to everyone, because she had felt as if she werewalking around in a perpetual glow, a bit like theway David and Saavik looked this morning. Rightafter she and Vance had become lovers, David saidoffhand to her that he did not understand why the two of themspent so much time together. "Del's a lot more interest-ing," David had said. "dance is okay, but he'skind of, well, boring, I think." And Carol,amused that David had not caught on, replied,"Then you don't know Vance very well." Vance wasquieter than his partner,STAR TREK Illmore reserved, and steadier. Del possessed afragile ego and a quick temper, and Carol, for allthat she acknowledged his brilliance, thought he was a littlecrazy. Vance, though . . . Vance was the sanestperson she had ever known. Del might be interestingto be around as in the old Chinese curse, "May youlive in interesting times."Being with Vance was simply and purely fun.David had seemed to catch on, eventually, thoughnow was the first time they had directly discussed it.Far from being jealous, as certain psychologicaltheories would have made him, he hadsubsequently become much better friends with Vance, whichhad pleased Caroltremendously."I just thought," David said, "if you didn't haveto see him . . ."Carol took his hand and held it between hers."David, losing Vance is the most painful thingI've ever experienced. I still don't believehe's gone. Because of our work, I have to go downto Spacelab. But even if I didn't, I'd haveto go anyway. Do you understand?""I don't think so," he said."If I don't . . . If I don't seehim, I'll never be able to believe he's dead. Ihave to accept it."David hugged her suddenly."I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm sodamned sorry. When you and he were together, you lookedhappier than I ever saw you before. It just isn'tfair to was His voice broke, and he did not tryto say more.Carol hugged him, then drew back andscrubbed her sleeve across her eyes."We'd better go," she said.50Chapter 3Carol Marcus and Christine Chapelmaterialised within the stasis room of Spacelab.The blue glow of the stasis fields leaked eerily fromthe edges of five of the chambers. Carol hesitateda moment, then opened the first one. She looked downat the shrouded figure, then drew the cloth from thepale face of a very young man, who had died with anexpression of terror."This is Jan." She said his full name and hisI'd. number for the identification record that Chriswas making. "He was our steward. Hehadn't tilde been on Spacelab for long. Afreighter stopped by a few months ago, and when itleft he stayed behind. He said he was working his wayacross the galaxy. He wanted to see everything there isto see. "I know that's impossible," he toldme, "but it's too good a line to pass up." Hewrote poetry, but he would never let anyone readit."She covered his pale face again, closed hischamber, and opened the second one, which protected anolder manSTAR TREK 111with flecks of grey in his black hair. Afteridentifying him for the record, Carol said, "Yoshi,our cook, shouldn't have been here at all. He wasdue for leave, with the rest of Spacelab's staff.But when he found out a few of us were staying, he saidhe would, too, because otherwise we would all forgetto eat and make ourselves sick with malnutrition. Ithink, though, that he stayed because he was as fascinatedby Genesis as the rest of us. He didn't wantto miss the second phase of the experiment."Carol glanced at Chris. "Is the machinegetting this? I want you to get it all."Chris nodded. Carol was well aware that nothing wasneeded beyond a formalidentification, but Chris recognized theprivate eulogies to be a facet of Carol'sgrief. "Yes," she said. "I'm getting it."The third chamber held a fair, handsome young manwho looked completely at peace."Delwin March," Carol said. "He and VanceMadison were partners. They practically invented awhole field of physics. They called it'kindergarten physics" because it dealt withsubelementary particles. They used to go to conferencesand drive their older colleagues to distractionby refusing to take anything seriously. As far as weknow yet, the two particles they discovered are thebasis of the wholeuniverse and they named them "sparks" and"boojums," out of a Lewis Carroll poem.I didn't get along very well with Del March.There was a streak of fury and pain in him that frightenedme. I didn't understand it. I couldn't do anythingabout it and I couldn't do anything to help him. Theonly person who could reach him when he began to sinkinto that anger was his partner, and all Vance could do waskeep him from hurting himself too badly." Shebrushed a lock of light brown hair from March'sforehead and covered his face with his shroud. 52The Search For SpockThe fourth chamber held the body of a Deltanwoman. Her face was stately and elegant andextraordinarily beautiful. "ZinaidaChitirih-Ra-Payjh was one of the finestmathematicians in the Federation. We couldn't havegotten past stage one of Genesis without her."Carol smiled sadly. "All the boys, Jan andDavid and Del poor Del, particularly and someof the young women on the station felldesperately in love with her, of course.Almost every human here fell in love with her or herpartner or with both of them." She glanced at therecorder. "Jedda Adzhin-Dall isn't here.He died by phaser, down inside Regulus I."She sighed. "Deltans have a powerful effect onhumans. Zinaida and Jedda handled itbeautifully. They were polite and cool and amused.They knew, I think, that nothing will douse a crushquicker than amusement. Everybody wondered what theydid in their cabin together. I doubt anybody evergot up the nerve to ask. I think they laughed notcruelly, but just because human beings must have seemed sosilly and immature to them." She put the palm ofher hand along the side of Zinaida's face."Dear Zinaida..." Carol glanced at Chris."Leonard said he could not find a cause of death,"she said matterof-factly.Chris hesitated, disturbed by Carol's eeriecalm. But refusing to answer would be close to Iying."Deltans can will themselves to die," she said. "Ifthey find themselves in intolerable conditions. I think shewouldn't have felt any pain.""She wouldn't have been frightened of pain," Carolsaid. "She would have seen it as achallenge maybe even as anopportunity to experience something she hadn't chosento encounter before." She replaced the shroud carefully.She opened the last chamber."This is Vance Madison." Her hands shaking,she uncovered his face. It was strong, intelligent,deterSTAR TREK 111mined. The light glinted like jewels in his verycurly black hair. "I used to tease Del andhim by calling them "twins," because they were socompletely different. Fair and dark, white andblack, short and tall, quicktempered and serene . .. crazy and sane." Her calm voice suddenlybroke. "Oh, damn, Chris, now I haveto believe he's dead . . ."Chris Chapel turned off the recorder, wentto Carol, and put her arms around her while shecried. "I know," Chris said. "I understand."After Carol and Chris beamed down toSpacelab, Saavik and David stepped upon the transporter platform to beam into RegulusI's new ecosystem."Energize," Saavik said."Lieutenant," the cadet saidhesitantly, "I can't find a clear placeto beam you to.""What?" David said. "It's full of openspaces in there."Saavik joined the cadet at the console andinspected the readings."It is true, David. The surface inrange of the beam is covered with some amorphousmaterial. Even the tunnels are filled." Thereadings were completely different from what she hadexpected. She scanned further until she found arelatively empty spot. "Beam me here,cadet," she said. "I will report what I find.""Saavik, wait a minute was David said.She returned to the platform. "I will either returnimmediately or send for you. Energize."The cadet obeyed.Saavik experienced the brief disorientation ofdematerialization. She arrived on Regulus I,beneath the planetoid's surface and within one of thetunnels dug as a staging area for the second phaseof the 54The Search For SpockGenesis project. She held hercommunicator open and her phaser ready, shouldthe changesthreaten her.She found herself in a very small clearing left by therandom arrangement of a tangled mass of undergrowth.Vines completely filled the tunnel in which Dr.Marcus and her team had hidden the Genesisrecords."Saavik to Erzterprise. I have reached thesurface. David, the flora has grown into thetunnels and filled them. Is this what you intended?""No. Not at all but like I told you, things alwayshappen that you don't expect. I'm coming down.""Wait a moment. I will clear a place for you."First she tried to push aside the beautiful floweringtendrils, but they sprang back into place. Intrying to move them, she crushed some of the stems andblossoms. The damaged foliage released apungent and entrancing scent.Saavik set her phaser to very-short-rangedisintegrate. She had checked the phaser outprecisely because David had told her that theGenesis experiment was so complex that its outcome couldnot be predicted in every detail. She had not, however,expected to be attacked by the vegetation.The scarlet-edged green leaves withered andvanished before the b eam of her phaser. The sweet,spicy fragrance intensified. She opened hercommunicator."Saavik to Enterprise. Cadet, can you lockonto the cleared area?""Aye, Lieutenant."David materialised beside her. He looked aroundand whistled in surprise."I take that to mean you did not expect anything likethis," Saavik said."It's even more viable than we thought! My gods,look at the growth, even under artificial light!"STAR TREK 111Saavik forbore to puncture his enthusiasmby pointing out that the ball of glowing plasma deeperinside the planetoid gave light no more"natural" than did the overhead fixturesilluminating the tunnels. The mass of reactinggases was held to the proper density by magneticfields and kept in place by stress fields. Itand the surrounding shell of the planetoid existed in anessentially unstable relationship."I would call this "overgrowth," David. Andwe still must reach the Genesis records. Wedo not have much time.""Hey, I designed these vines at least giveme a chance to admire my own handiwork for a minute, willyou?""Admire the ones behind us. I must destroy someof the ones in our path. Please do not take itpersonally." Before she fired her phaser she added,"They are very beautiful. And the scent is aestheticallypleasing.""Thanks. hisThrough the intertwining foliage, Saavik could justsee the great pile of portable memory banks thatheld the Genesis research. As she cut a path inthat direction, David plucked a spray of leavesfrom a vine, crushed them, and inhaled the scent."They'll grow berries in a couple of months.Ought to make great wine."Saavik reached the cache of Genesis records.She focused her phaser to a tight beam, powered itdown to its minimum level, and used it like ascalpel to remove the undergrowth from the boxes. Asshe finished, David approached. He put his armsaround her from behind and rubbed the leaves together between his hands.The refreshing perfume rose up around her face."Wouldn't you like to try some wine that tasted likethese smell?"The Search For SpockSaavik holstered her phaser and tookDavid's hands between her own. She stroked the backsof his hands with her fingers and grasped his wrists,feeling the cool throb of his pulse."The scent requires nothing more," she said. "Itis complete in itself. It is perfect, very much like itsdesigner."He let the leaves fall to the ground and hugged hermore tightly, burying his face in her hair. Shewanted nothing more than to respond to his caress.Her communicator beeped."I'd never design a bird that made a sillynoise like that," David whispered in Saavik'sear. "Must have been my mother, she was never very good atmusic. Let's ignore it.""It would merely make more silly noises," shesaid. "And when it stopped, a whole flock of itscomrades would come looking for it,accompanied by a whole flock of cadets playingat being security officers." She kissed him quicklyand pulled out her communicator. Chuckling, Davidbrushed the last remnants of his vines from thestorage boxes."Saavik here.""How long will you be, Lieutenant?" AdmiralKirk said. "Captain Esteban wants to leavefor the Mutara sector as soon as possible.""A few more minutes, Admiral," Saaviksaid. "We have located the Genesis records and arepreparing to beam them up.""Very well. Shake a leg. Kirk out."With a curious frown, Saavik closed thecommunicator. ""Shake a leg"?" she saidto David. "How would that be of benefit? Is it anexercise?""It's an idiom, it means hurry up. Whydid he tell you Esteban's plans?""Because he has ordered was She stopped, and then,STAR TREK 111to be fair, she said, "Or, rather, he stronglyinvited me to volunteer to accompany Grissom toGenesis. Such invitations are not wiselydeclined.""What? Damn! So he's trying to cut me andmother out of the follow-up! Saavik, do you know what thismeans?""It means he is under the impression that you do notcare to go he said you had declined.""The hell I did!""But he said tilde have. Perhaps he meant Dr.Marcus, senior.""He didn't even ask me! Son of a bitch!""Surely if you tell him you wish to go his"He'll probably think of some way to stop me.He'll try, anyway. Especially now that you'regoing."David made Saavik acutely uncomfortablewhen he referred to the admiral in such an angry,abusive tone."Why do you speak of him like this, David? I wasunder the impression that you and he had found reasonto accept each other.""So was I. For a while. But maybe I waswrong. Maybe we're too different." He blewhis breath out in exasperation, then suddenly grinned."I have an idea. Let's let him wait.Let's blast a trail to the interior and seewhat's going on there."Saavik put her hand on her phaser and verynearly drew it. She was so tempted by his invitationthat the strength of her desire shocked her."I would like that very much," she said."Great. Let's go.""What I would like is very far from what I must do.""Oh, come on a few minutes won't hurt.""It would take hours to clear a trail through thetunnels."He snatched playfully at her phaser. Sheavoided him easily, and not at all playfully.The Search For Spock"Spoilsport," he said. "I thought you weredifferent, but you're just like everybody else inStarfleet.""I am like no one else at all, in Starfleetor outside it," she said."Indoctrinated in the military mind.""You are provoking me, David."As she pulled out her communicator, Davidgrabbed again for her phaser, this time with more determination.Reacting automatically, she grasped his hand in amove Captain Sulu had taught her in aself-defence class. The phaser went flying."Let got Geez, what are you doing?""The technical term is "kotegaeshi,""Saavik said."I don't give a shit what it's calledtilde ill you let go!"He dug the nails of his free hand into her fingersto try to make her release him. She put enough twistOD his wrist to hurt if he resisted."Okay, okay!" he said.Before she could put the communicator away andretrieve her phaser, the Enterprise signalledagain."Enterprise to Saavik," Admiral Kirksaid. There was a definite edge to his voice. "Willyou get a move on, Lieutenant?""Immediately, Admiral," she said. "The Genesisrecords are cleared of foliage. Thetransporter beam may now lock onto them.""Preparing to beam up," the cadet in thetransporter room said through the communicator."Think you can cut me out of my own project, doyou, you filthy warmonger?" David shouted beforeSaavik could close the channel."David? What are you talking about?" Kirk'stone was hurt and surprised."I'll tell you what I'm talking about hisSaavik snapped the communicator closed andslapped it back in place on her belt.STAR TREK 151"What is wrong with you?" Saavik had begunto get used to David's impulsive actions.Until now he had never seemed maliciouslyirresponsible.The transporter beam glowed; the boxes ofGenesis records sparkled and disappeared.Saavik dragged David around till she couldreach her phaser. It had fallen into a tangle ofvines. She had to rip it loose from the tendrils thathad curled around it. The pungent scent rose upto enclose her.She felt dizzy. She shoved the phaser againsther belt and fumbled for the communicator."Saavik to Enterprtse; Beam us up.""One moment, please, Lieutenant. We haveto clear the platforms.""Quickly!" She slipped to her knees. The stonefloor of the tunnel felt very hard and cold. Tinytendrils of David's beautiful vines dug into thesolid rock. Saavik struggled to her feet. Hergrip on David's hand loosened and he cametoward her, reaching again for her phaser.The transporter beam enveloped anddematerialized them.Jim Kirk stormed into the transporter room justas Lieutenant Saavik and David appeared onthe platform among the piles of boxes that the cadethad shoved untidily aside.David and Saavik were holding hands.Charming, I'm sure, Kirk thought, but hardly theplace or time and damned foolish to do while beingtransported. Lucky neither had lost an arm."I take it you have something to say to me, young man,"Kirk said to David.The young scientist pulled his hand free ofSaavik's and strode forward to meet his father."You bet I do."The Search For SpockBehind them, Saavik took one step forward andfelt her knees begin to buckle. Before she couldfall, she sat down quickly on the edge of theplatform. David and the admiral argued, Davidresentfully, the admiral indignantly, neitherlistening to the other. Saavik stopped listening to both ofthem."Saavik, are you okay?" The cadet crouchedbeside her, concerned."Yes . . . of course." She had to draw onall her Vulcan training to find enough strength to rise.She had not had much sleep in the past several days,but she should be able to functioneffectively for much longer without rest. She haddone so before, in practice. She felt ashamed andembarrassed."Admiral," she said. Neither he nor Davidheard her. "Admiral Kirk!" she said moreloudly, breaking into the argument.Kirk swung around to face her. "What is it,Lieutenant?""May I be dismissed? I must prepareto transfer to the Gr tilde ssom.""All right, yes. Dismissed."Saavik sat in her cabin, grateful for itsdry warmth and the dim, scarlet-tinged light. Herpreparations remained incomplete, but she needed amoment to collect herself and to think about her own andDavid's inexplicable behavior.Absently she drew her phaser and pluckedaway the delicate pink tendrils. Many climbingplants have the ability to coil themselves around whateversolid object they contact. This species movedquickly, but she had seen others that were faster.Its ability to probe into solid rock wasexceptional if she had seen what she thought shesaw. She wished for time to exploreSTAR TREK 111Regulus I. She was, she thought, nearly asanxious as David to know the full results of theGenesis programs.Saavik lifted a crushed vine-leaf to her noseto experience again the dazzling scent. The fragrancetwined around her like the tendrils around her phaser.Dizziness hit her. Saavik jerked the leafaway. She gazed at it, frowning. She put itaside, went to the synthesiser panel, and requestedthe ship's computer to send her a sampling envelope.When it appeared, she swept together all the bits ofDavid's vine. Repressing the wish to inhale theirredolent essence, she sealed them within the clearplastic.Jim Kirk folded his arms across his chest."David, I don't understand what you're so angryabout. Carol said she didn't want to go back to theMutara sector naturally I assumed you didn'twant to go, either.""You should have asked me,?"' David saidstubbornly. He felt tremendously relieved thathis mother was not willing to return yet, and terrified andangry that he might be forbidden to do so. "I'lltell you why you expect me to do exactly what shedoes it's because everybody you know has jumped when yousaid 'frog" for so long that you don't think anybodyhas a mind of their own!"Jim chuckled. "You don't know the people I know,if you think that. Look, I've apologised Idon't see that there's much else I can do, if you'redetermined to sulk.""You can send me out on Grissom."Jim hesitated. "Are you sure that's wise?""Why isn't it wise?""I just thought . . ."David glared at him belligerently. Jimtook a moment to sort through his own feelings.The Search For Spock"I'll be honest with you, David. I was hopingyou'd stay on board the Enterprise. I've wanteda chance to talk to you. I can't make up for all theyears that I didn't know you his"No," David said coldly. "You can't."Taken aback by David's reaction,Jim said, "Whether you like it or not, I am yourfather.""You can't spend twenty years ignoring myexistence his"David, I didn't hiswas and just waltz in and expect me to shower you withfilial piety!""All I want is for us to try to be friends.""It's too late! It's too damned late foryou to come along and try to make friends with me!"They were getting nowhere; they weresucceeding only in antagonising each other. Jimdecided to try to defuse the argument until they bothcould cool down."I hope you're wrong, David," he said."But I think I understand why you're angry anddisappointed. I hope someday you can forgive me,or even accept me. In the meantime let's try atleast to be civil to each other. For your mother'ssake.""For my mother's sake! Since when did you givea damn about my mother?""You aren't going to let up, are you?" Jim wasboth angry and hurt. Every concession he had triedto make, David had thrown back in hisface. "Get your things together tilde rissom warpsout of orbit in an hour."He stalked out of the room.David knocked softly on the door of his mother'scabin. He waited, then knocked again. The doorfinally slid open. Darkness faced him."Mother?"STAR TREK 111"Yes, David." Her voice was very quiet."Your things that were down inside the cave I broughtthem back up with me.""Thank you." She turned on a light."They told me you didn't want to go back to theMutarasector.""No," she said. "Not now. I can't, not now.""I volunteered to. I think it's importantthat one of us be in the reconnaissance party."She looked at him in silence."I understand why you want to go back to Earth,"David said. "I should, too, probably.""I'd hoped . . ." she said softly."Mother, this is essential. Somebody's gotto keep an eye on Starfleet. To be sure theytell the truth about what happened out there.We can't just let them have free rein, not after everythingthat's happened.""I know," she said. "You're right that one of us shouldgo. Probably both of us should.""No!" he said quickly, then forced his voice backunder control when she reacted to his intensity. "Itisn't going to be anything but a fast survey.Somebody's got to keep them honest, but it won'ttake both of us. Mother, I'm leaving you to do the hardjob all alone his"I have to do it alone," she said. "It's only thatI've been afraid . . .""Of what?""There's a reason I never told you JimKirk is your father, David. There are a lot ofreasons, but the main one was selfish.""I don't understand.""I was afraid that if you found out that your father was astarship captain, you'd be off on the next ship,flying around the galaxy, and I'd never see you again."She sighed. "I told Jim I want you in myworld, not in his. But I should have let you make thedecision."The Search For Spock"What decision?" He laughed. "Mother, can youreally see me on the crew of this ship?" He jerkedto attention. "Yessing Aye-aye sir. I'll beglad to swab the poop deck, sir." Slowly anddeliberately, he crossed his eyes.Carol could not help but laugh. "I don't thinkstarships have poop decks, David.""They'd probably invent one just for me to swab.I'd never make it in the military.""Only . . .""What?""You've met your father, and you're about to go off on astarship.""Yeah, but note carefully that it isn't hisstarship. Honest, Mom, I'm not going to up and joinStarfleet." He hugged her. "I won't even begone very long. Promise.""I know.""They're leaving soon. I better go.""Good-bye, David. Be careful.""I almost forgot was He reached under his shirt anddrew out a folded piece of drafting fabric."Our Starfleet friends sealed the Genesisrecords, but I insisted on checking them over beforethey locked them away. I didn't know ifthey'd let either of us in there again. Who knows whothey'll turn everything over to, back on Earth.S. . ." The shiny, silvery material slipped outof its folds and lay soft and unwrinkled in his hands.Dark blue lines and stippling marked it. "I stolethis for you when nobody was looking." He handed her themap of the second phase of Genesis.After drawing the map of the ecosystem for RegulusI, Vance Madison had made a copy for eachmember of the team. They had allcontributed to the plan, and they had all beenlooking forward to comparing the mapSTAR TREK 111with the eventual outcome. The vines in the stagmgarea hinted at greatly divergent results.David wondered if he if anyone would ever get thechance to explore Regulus I's interior.Carol took the map from him and smoothed it out acrossher lap."David . . . thank you." She touched the outerreaches of the map, near the north pole. Inside theshell of the world, centrifugal acceleration created anartificial gravity. But as one curved around towardthe poles, the force would become more acutelyangled to the surface. The radius of spin wouldshorten. Thus one would seem to be climbing up anincreasingly steeper hill, against a steadilydecreasing force.The team had left the odd environment of the polesalmost uncolonised by their creations, for they hadprimarily been interested in inventing life forms thatwould be useful on a new world. Carol was rather pleasedwith her silk heather, and Yoshi had suggested thecornucopia tree, which produced several differentkinds of fruit at each season. Vance had inventeda smallcarnivore that he fancifully named the whiterabbit, and Del responded by designing the Marchhare. Its main distinction, he claimed, was completelunacy. The way he described it, it sounded like across between a howler monkey and a gecko. Carolsmiled, thinking that it was characteristic of the two young mento design a "rabbit" that was not a rabbit, and a"hare" that was not a hare. When they presented theircreations at the weekly design meeting,Carol had laughed and threatened to make up something theycould call the mad hatter.None of those creations lived out toward the poles.At the very top of the map, in spideryscript, Vance had written "Here be dragons."The Search For Spock"I wonder if there really are dragons,"Carol said softly.Saavik arrived In the transporter room,ready to beam on board Gnssom, but found herself allalone. As she was punctual, she felt it safeto assume the others had not left without her.Waiting in the empty, dim transporter room,she sought something to occupy her mind.Someone spoke her name."Captain ?" She turned around, looking for thespeaker.No one else had yet entered the room. Thedeep Shadows offered no hiding places."Who is there?" she said.It occurred to her that someone might be trying to playa joke on her, though no one had ever done so before.No one had ever even told jokes to her. Untila few days ago she had considered them completelyfrivolous, and thus beneath notice. Jokes could bebased in cruelty, she knew, but it was usually asort.of benign cruelty.Cruel it would be, and not the least bitbenign, to play a joke on Saavik by calling outher name, in Mr. Spock's voice."Sauvika tilde hisShe clapped her hands over her ears. The voicespoke in Vulcan, using a Vulcan form ofaddress."Sauvikam, why did you leave me onGenesis?"The voice was audible only to her.It was not a joke."Mr. Spock," she whispered, "why are you notat peace? I watched over you, and I sent yourbody into the new world. I thought that would please you . .."She heard voices in the corridor. Bringi ngherselfSTAR TREK 111back to some semblance of composure, she pulledher hands from her face and straightened her tunic.Admiral Kirk and Captain Esteban entered."Hello, Lieutenant," the Admiral said."I see you're on time. Think how much we could getdone, J.t., if we were as organised andimperturbable as LieutenantSaavik."Nothing Kirk had said to Saavik required areply, so she remained silent. She felt neitherorganized nor imperturbable.This time she did feel as if she were going mad.Saavik had experienced mind-meld several timesduring her life, most often with Spock. The touch ofhis mind was the first civilised experience she had everhad. The touch of a mind was unique. It wasimpossible to mistake the mind of a person one hadtouched for that of any other sentient being, strange orfamiliar. Yet the voice Saavik had felt, theconsciousness that had just cried out to her, had felt likeMr. Spock's. Which it could not have been."You're very quiet, Lieutenant. Are you havingsecond thoughts about this mission? You did volunteer,you know you can change your mind.""No!" she said more forcefully than she had in-tended.He gave her a quizzical look, notprecisely a remonstration, but not approval either."No, sir," she said in a more collected tone."I believe it is extremely important for meto go on this mission.""Very well. Where the devil isDavid?""He'd better hurry along if he's coming,"Esteban said. "I can't wait all day.,""Is David coming, Admiral?" Saavikasked."He better be," Kirk said. "He read methe riot act about not asking him in the first place."The Search For SpockAt that moment David strode in, a smallpack slung over his shoulder."We were just about to give up on you," Kirk said."I was saying good-bye to my mother," David said."Any objections?""None at all," Kirk said mildly.Kirk shook hands with Captain Esteban."Good to see you again, J.t. Let's not leave itso long before we cross paths again.""We'll be back in a month or six weeks,Jim.""We'll plan to get together then." Kirk turnedto Saavik and, to her surprise, extended his handto her. She shook it gingerly."Good luck, Lieutenant. Take care of myson.""Aye, sir," she said, and wondered how manylayers a human being, accustomed to theambiguities and "little jokes" of Standard, wouldfind in his order."David."Kirk reached out to his son. When Davidwarily grasped his hand, Kirk drew the young mantoward him and into a bear hug."Take care of yourself, son," he said.David extricated himself rather less gracefullythan he might. David's mercurial character,Saavik thought, was not ready to forgive what hadpassed between him and the admiral."Don't worry," David said. "There's nothingdangerous in the Mutara sector anymore. Nothingdangerous at all."Kirk watched the young people Esteban,David, and Saavik vanish from the transporterplatform. Off into the unknown. He did wish he weregoing with them.Instead, he called the bridge and askedCaptain SuluSTAR TREK 111to warp out of orbit and head back towardEarth. Then Kirk himself headed for sick bay.McCoy was up and working. His facade wasexcellent, but Kirk could tell it was only afacade. To Kirk, McCoy appeared pale andfragile and distracted, despite the gentle jokehe made with an injured young cadet, despite thesteadiness of his hands and the certainty of his voice."Good morning, Bones," Kirk said. "Talkto you in your office?""Hi, Jim. Sure. One minute."McCoy joined him in the office as soon as hehad finished with his patient."What's up? Need a good hangover remedy?""I might ask you the same question."McCoy gave up his jocular pose. "But Iwasn't was He stopped. "Never mind. Itdoesn't matter. I owe you an apologyanyway. Scatty wanted to have a wake for hisnephew, and I thought, Why not include Spock?All I can say is it seemed like a good idea atthe time.""It's over and done," Jim said. "If I'dthought about it I probably would have put my footdown before the whole thing got up any momentum. Myonly excuse is I had other things onmy mind. But I'm worried about you. Last night,you were acting . . . odd.""Odd?" McCoy chuckled. "I'm notsurprised. The synthesisers aren't quite up to decentliquor."Kirk frowned, detecting a false note inMcCoy's dismissal of last night's events."I don't mean drunk. You didn't actdrunk.""I didn't?" McCoy exclaimed, all tooheartily. "I must be out of practice.""Don't you remember what you said?""About what?""You stood up on a table and said 'Grief is notThe Search For Spocklogical" in a pretty damned good imitation ofSpock's voice. That isn't your usual sort of. . . humor.""That isn't humor of any sort," McCoysaid. "I must have been farther gone than I thought.""Tell me what's wrong," Jim said."Bones, let me help.""Sure you can help by accepting my apology andforgetting what it is I'm apologisingfor."When McCoy wanted to avoid interrogation, hecould sidestep with the best of them. Jim had not quite reachedthe point of trying to get an answer out of his old friendby pulling rank. Besides, when had it ever done him anygood, withMcCoy, to assert his authority as a starshipcaptain?"Apology accepted. Forgetting that's goingto take a little longer. If you want to talk, you knowwhere to find me."Kirk returned to the bridge, still disturbed aboutMcCoy, and feeling that his visit to sick bay hadbeen very nearly futile.On board Grissom, Saavik thanked theduty officer for giving her a cabin assignment. Theyoung Vulcan did not bother to stop by her room. Shehad nothing with her to drop off, and a more pressing matterto attend to thanobserving the decor of Grissom's cabins.She felt the faint shift in the ship's gravityfields that indicated they had warped out of orbit.Grissom, a small, fast ship, could travel betweenRegulus and the Mutara sector much morequickly than the crippled Enterprise.Saavik entered the main laboratory and stoppedshort.Before her stood a being like a column of rippledcrystal. Saavik had never met a Glaeziverbefore. They 71STAR TREK 111were very rare. They intended and planned to be extinctwithin a hundred Standard years. Their planet hadbeen destroyed in the nova of its star. Theypossessed such strong ties to their world that they neverfound another on which they felt anything but alien. Andso they disbanded, scattering throughout the Federation and perhapseven beyond.It occurred to Saavik that if Genesis could beprogrammed to copy their lost world closely enough,they might change their collective decision to die.If they possessed a world to return to, they mightchoose to live."Hello," Saavik said formally. "How may Iaddress you?"The utter motionlessness of the being gave Saavik theimpression of enormous potential energy preparingto translate itself into motion. When the Glaeziverstirred, it did so with a controlled power that belied thedelicacy of its form. The many transparentstrands making up its substance brushed together with a chiminglike jewels in the wind."You're well-mannered for an opaque being," theGlaeziver said. Its voice was like a cymbalon."If you can pronounce my name, you may use it."It spoke a beautiful word like a song, whichSaavik reproduced as best she could."Not bad," the Glaeziver said. "You may callme that, if you like. I prefer it to Fred."was "Fred"?" Saavik said."One of my co-workers fancies that my name soundslike a phrase of Chopin's. How may I addressyou?""My name is Saavik.""How do you do, Saavik. What can I do for you?""I wish to analyze a sample from the interior ofRegulus I. May I use your equipment?""Can you talk and work at the same time?" 72like For Spock"Certainly.""In that case, I'll make you a deal. We willanalyze your sample on my equipment while youtell me what has been going on out here insideRegulus I, and in the Mutara.""That appears a fair trade to me,"Saavik said."Great. What kind of analysis do you wantmacroscopic, molecular, atomic,subatomic?""Molecular, please.""You got it." --Glaezivers had a reputation for being very formal andstand-offish. Saavik found it quite interesting that the beinghad held to formality during their introductions, butspoke very casually otherwise. It was very easy to thinkof it as "Fred."Saavik's cabin was standard for a Federation ship,designed and intended for a human being. The lightingimitated the spectrum of Earth's star, and thetemperature conformed to the temperate regions of theirhome planet. Saavik glanced around the room,approving of its lack of extraneous decoration andits communications terminal, disapproving of the heavilypadded furniture. She preferred hard chairs and asleeping mat.She reprogrammed the environmental controls.The light dimmed and reddened, and thetemperature began gradually to rise. Saaviksat down for the first time since arriving on Grzssom.Preparing for the survey of Genesis andanalysing the sample from Regulus I had givenher plenty of work, for which she was grateful. It tookher mind off the fears she had had for her own sanity.But since leaving the Enterprise, she no longersensed Spock's presence. If she still believed inghosts as she had when she was little, for things happened onHellguard that an uneducated and unsophisticatedSTAR TREK 111child could explain no other way she would have believedSpock's shade to be haunting the Enterprise. Butshe did not believe in ghosts anymore. Shebelieved that for a short wh ile she had been at least alittle bit insane.And now? To test herself, to test the silence,Saavik took the risk of opening her mentalshields. She closed her eyes and reached out,seeking any resonance, real or imagined, ofSpock.After some minutes she opened her eyes again. Shehad found nothing.The echo of her teacher had vanished. He was gone,and Saavik grieved for him. But at least she was notmad.She picked up the printout of theRegulus I sample and reread the analysis.Someone knocked on her door."Come."David entered, smiling. "Hi. Guess what.I'm right next door. Great, huh?""That depends. Have you come to your senses?""What? Are you talking about what happened down inthe Genesis cave?" He shrugged it off. "Yeah,sure, sorry I don't know what got into me. Iguess I was overexcited.""That is your explanation?""What's the matter? I'm sorry I triedto take your phaser that was dumb. If it's anycomfort, you twisted the hell out of my wrist. I can stillfeel it. And, look, there's a bruise here on myhand where you put your thumb.""You should not have resisted," Saavik said. "Youinjured yourself with your own violence.""And you got your revenge.""Why do you assume I want revenge? Or thatI 74The Search For Spockwould take pleasure in hurting you? That is beside thepoint. You know that I do not use recreationaldrugs. Even if I did, I was onduty when we beamed down to the Genesis caves.How could you not warn me?""Saavik, what are you talking about?"Saavik was prepared for a laugh and a claim of "alittle joke." She was not prepared for deliberateobtuseness. She handed him the printout.He scanned it."Interesting organic make-up. What is it?""You should know. You designed it.""I never did. I never saw this set ofmolecules before in my life.""David, that is an analysis of the Genesisvines the vines you created.""It's nothing like. Well, superficially,maybe. But this whole subset of molecules his"I ran the samples twice," Saavik said."I am hardly infallible, but this summary Isaccurate.""But it shouldn't look like this. I don't even knowwhat half the stuff is.""This," Saavik said, pointing to a heterocycliccompound, "is an extremely potent psychoactivealkaloid.""What!" David looked at it more closely."My gods, it could be, couldn't it?""It is. It is also the reason we behaved as wedid why we nearly abandoned our tasks to goexploring, like two irresponsible children hiswas "We"?" David said, rubbing his wrist."You could have fooled me, if you were about to do anything outof line.""I came very close to it," Saavik said. "Theactive ingredient in those vines is a narcotic.""I designed it so you could brew tea out of theleaves if you wanted. I put a lot of caffeinein it, that's all."STAR TREK 111Saavik could see the resemblance between themolecule in question and caffeine, but it had gone throughconsiderable mutation to become what it was."I think you would not want to brew tea out of thisplant," Saavik said. "Or make wine of itsfruit.""You never know," David said.Saavik raised one eyebrow."Just kidding," David said.Chapter 4Phase three of Genesis spun like amobile drifting in the breeze. David watched thenewly-formed star system on the Grissom'sviewscreen. Despite his calculated calm, hewas astonished that the new world was his creation. So far itlooked like the programs had worked perfectly. Thelack of a sun for the world to orbit had enabled thestar-forming subroutine The great dustcloud of the MutaraNebula hadprovided plenty of mass to form a small, hotstar.David leaned against the bridge rail. Hefelt out of place and in the way, despite theship's being there at least partly because of him. Behind him,at the main sensor station, Saavik seemedto David very much in place, cool and controlled.She had forgiven him for the incident in the Genesiscaves back on Regulus I. David trulyhad not designed a plant containing a chemical of thepotency theySTAR TREK 111found. They had talked about what might have gonewrong. The changes in the experiment's outcome wereof a far greater magnitude than David hadexpected. He was still trying to convince himselfthat everything really had evolved nearly the way theGenesis teamintended, only a little more so. He was not readyto admit any serious doubts to himself, much lessdiscuss them with anyone. Even Saavik.Saavikcompleted the current log entry."dis . . We are approaching destination planetat point zero three five. So noted in ship'slog."She removed the data cube from the recorder anddelivered the log to Captain Esteban to certify andseal."Very well, Lieutenant." To the helm officer,he said, "Execute standard orbital approach.""Standard orbit, aye.""Communications. Send a coded message forStarfleet Commander, priority one . . ."He paused for a moment. David decided, with asmile, that the captain was thinking over his messageto be sure it would not include a single informal word.was "Federation science vessel Grissom arrivingGenesis planet, Mutara sector, to beginresearch. As ordered, full security proceduresare in effect. J.t. Esteban, commanding." his"Aye sir, coding now."David found the security on Grissomrestrictive and a little scary. Genesis had alwaysbeen, in theory, a secret project. Acceding to thesecurity requirements had been the only way theycould get the research funded. The whole team hadtaken a rather lackadaisical attitude toward therules, mostly by thinking about them asinfrequently as possible. They had all beencertain that the first implementation of the project wouldmake secrecy impossible.That's one thing we were right about, David thought. 78The Search For SpockBut now the authorities wanted to try to clamp thelid back down.On Grissom, dealing with Starfleet directlyinstead of one step removed, David had the distinctimpression that they wished he knew nothing about theproject, and that they would have denied him clearance ifthey could have done so without looking ridiculous.Captain Esteban turned toward him. "Dr.Marcus," he said, "it's your planet."Astonished, and pleased despite himself, Davidgrinned. "Thank you, Captain. Begin scanning,please." He joined Saavik at the science stationas she activated the macroscopicscanner. It glowed into life, forming a schematicof the world before them. The schematic showed a stablesphere, with core, mantle, crust, and oceans,absolutely indistinguishable from a naturallyevolved world.Well, what did you expect? David askedhimself. That it would be flat?Suddenly he laughed, and all his doubts and fearsevaporated in the sheer pleasure of inspecting hishandiwork."This is where the fun begins, Saavik!" he said.She replied, sotto voce, "Like your father . .. so human." Then, turning on the recorder, shetook the irony and humor out of her voice. "Allunits functional, recorders are on....Scanning sector one. The foliage is in afully developed state of growth. Temperature,twenty-two point two degrees Celsius.""Sector two . . . indicating desertterrain," David said. "Minimal vegetation,temperature thirty-nine point four."At several team presentation meetings the discussionhad cantered on whether to include desert or anyother severe climates at all. Vance said he wasnot interested in working on anything "sobeautiful it's sappy," DelSTAR TREK 111(as usual) agreed with Vance. Zinaidapersisted, as Deltans often did, in quoting theVulcan philosophy, "infinite diversity ininfinite combinations." David wondered howVulcans liked being quoted by the Federation's mostrenowned sensualists. He himself had pushed for tryingto make Genesis a shirt-sleeve environment frompole to pole. That would have been quite a challenge. Hewas, however, outvoted."Sector three," Saavik said."Subtropical vegetation."David glanced across the bank of sensors. Theymust be scanning a region where several differentecotypes blended into one another."Temperature was Saavik said.. She stoppedand checked her readings again. "Temperaturedecreasing rapidly."My gods, look at that, David thought.Infinite diversity indeed."It's snow," he said. "Snow in the samesector. Fantastic!" He could not get atopographical map off the sensor he wasusing, but he assumed they must be looking at asnowcapped mountain upthrust in the midst ofsubtropical forest edged by desert."Fascinating," Saavik said."All the varieties of land and weather known to Earthwithin a few hours' walk!" David knew he wasexaggerating, just a bit, but for a time the team hadengaged in a sort of informal competition to see whocould design the most complicated conditions within thesmallest area. Nobody had quite come up with a workableway to juxtapose arctic and equatorial cli-mates, but everyone had developed a differentmethod of coming close. Some of the schemes werepositively Byzantine. The trouble was, Caroleventually declared the competition out of hand and said she wouldnot include any of the results in the Genesisdevice.The Search For SpockMaybe she changed her mind, David thought."You must be very proud of what you and your mother havecreated," Saavik said.David gazed at the sensors and felt some of hisdoubts and fears beginning to creep back."It's a little early to celebrate," hesaid.One of the sensors erupted into frantic beeping.Saavik started, then covered her surprise by bendingintently over the monitor."Same sector," she said evenly."Metallic mass.""Underground, right?" Dav id said. "Probablyan ore deposit.""Negative," Saavik said. "It is on thesurface, a manufactured object."Manufactured! David thought. Debris fromKhan's ship? The Genesis torpedo? But that wasimpossibleanything in range of the Genesis wave haddisintegrated into a plasma of subelementaryparticles. Then he realized"There's only one thing it could be!" he said.He glanced at Saavik. Surely the sameanswer must have occurred to her. She gazed intentlyat the sensors."Short range scan," David said.Esteban joined them at the console and glanced overthe readings."Approximately two meters long,"Saavik said. "Cylindrical in form . ..""A photon tube to wasSaavik continued to avoid David's look.She's upset, David thought, and she'sembarrassed about being upset. I don't blameher If I thought I'd buried a friend, and then hiscoffin turned up . . ."Could it be Spock's?" Esteban asked.David had noticed that the captain did not much likebeing surprised."It has to be," David said. There were severalways itSTAR TREK 111could have reached the surface of the Genesis world withoutburning up in the atmosphere like a shooting star. "Thegravitational fields were still in flux. It must havesoft-landed.""In code to Starfleet," Esteban said.""Captain Spock's tube located intact onGenesis surface. Will relay more data onsubsequent orbits."""Yes, sir," said the communications officer."Coding your message."Saavik continued to stare at the changingsensors. David neither questioned nor challenged her.Instead, he reached out and put his hand over hers. Stillshe said nothing, but she did not draw away from him,either.As the ship passed over the surface of the newworld, crossing the terminator into darkness, the sensor'sbeeps grew fainter and fainter. The ship moved outof line-of-sight of the torpedo tube and the signalscut off abruptly.J.t. Esteban thoughtfully stroked his thumb underhis jaw and considered what to do. Spock's coffin wassupposed to have been launched in a standard burialorbit, one that should have resulted in complete ablation.There should be nothing at all left of it. That it hadlanded intact created all sorts of problems, from thepossibility of contamination to the responsibility forretrieving the casket and either re-launchingit(j.t. would send it into the star, so there could be nomistake), or holding a formal interment on thesurface of Genesis. Technically, Spock'smost recent C.o. shoukl make the decision. Butwith any luck, someone at Starfleet HQ wouldgive the word. Jim Kirk could do without going through thewringer agam over the death of a friend.Under any other circumstances, J.t.might have taken it upon himself to decide what would bedone, 82The Search For Spockbut not this time not when it involved something asimportant as Genesis.Personal log of James T. KirkWith most of battle damage repaired, we arealmost home. Yet I feel tilde uneasy. AndI wonder why. Perhaps it is the erratic behaviorof ship's eon Leonard McCoy, or theemptiness of the vessel. Most of . trainee crewhave been ream signed. Lieutenant Sanvik and myson David are exploring a new world. TheEnterprise feels like a house with an the childrengone.... No, more empty even than that. The newsof Spock's tube has shaken me. It seems thatI have left the noblest part of myself back there, on thatnewborn planet.Jim Kirk stalked the bridge of theEnterprise. Sorting out his thoughts in his personallog had failed to diminish his unease.He paused next to the science station, where Spockalways sat. He put his hands on the back of thechair. The transmission from Esteban, onGenesis, troubled hirn. He feltunreasonably angered and betrayed at the news thatSpock's coffin had soft-landed. Kirk had ordereda trajectory that should have burned the tube to ashes inthe upper atmosphere of Genesis. WhetherSpock's body returned to its constituent atomsquickly, in fire, or slowly, in the earth of a newworld, surely did not matter to the Vulcan anylonger. But Kirk, who wished the flames for himselfwhen he died, had made a decision and given anorder, and some unforeseen andunknown conspiracy of the universe had servedto defy him.Starfleet had sent the medical rescue shipFirenze outSTAR TREK 111to meet the Enterprise and to transport all but afew of its trainee crew, injured and healthyalike, back to Earth, so at least he no longerhad a boatload of children to worry about.The Enterprise, though patched and limping, was out ofimmediate danger. It could easily have made it to AlphaCeti V to rescue Reliant's crew, whomKhan marooned when he hijacked their ship. But beforethe light of Firenze's engines hadfairly red-shifted out of the visible spectrum,Starfleet recalled the Enterprise to Earth and sentanother ship to Alpha Ceti V. "TheEnterprise is fully capable of carrying out thismission," Kirk had said, and HQ replied, with afine disregard for irony, "But, Admiral, yourship is dangerously shorthanded. was By then Kirkdid not knowwhether to laugh, cry, or blow his stack. Hedecided, instead, to make the best of it.David's decision to return with Grissom to theGenesis world disappointed Kirk. Carol was barelyspeaking to him. One relationship that had started well andone that he had thought to resume were dissolvinginto nothingness.And finally, there was Leonard McCoy. Kirk wasworried about him. Kirk could haveunderstood grief; he could even have understood arefusal to admit to grief. He could not comprehendMcCoy's disjointed conversation, his briefepisodes of intense activity, and his speakingSpock's words in Spock's voice.For a while Kirk had felt good about having hisship back, but the price of regaining it was far toohigh.Get hold of yourself! he thought. He turnedaway from Spock's station."Status, Mr. Sulu?""On course, Admiral," Sulu said."Estimating Spacedock in two point one hours."The Search For Spock"Very well." returned to his own place on thebridge. "Mr. Chekov, I need apre-approach scan. Take the science station,please."Chekov hesitated. Kirk understood hisreasons, but the ship could not function without the sciencestation. Someone had to take Spock's place. Thesooner Kirk and Chekov andeverybody else got used to that, the better."Yes, sir," Chekov said. He stood, leftthe helm, and moved to the science station."Uhura," Kirk said, "any response fromStarfleet on our Project Genesisinquiries?""No, sir," Uhura said. "No response.""Odd . . ." Kirk murmured. He wasaccustomed to having his questions answered without delay.Esteban had been infuriatingly obscureabout the public reaction to the Genesis effect. Hehad piqued Kirk's curiosity. Apparently,though, Kirk was just going to have to wait until he gotback to headquarters to find out what was going on.He opened an intercom channel to the engineroom."Scotty, progress report?""We're almost done, sir," Scott replied."Ye'll be fully automated by the time we dock.""Your timing is excellent, Mr. Scott,"he said. "You've fixed the barn door after the horsehas come home." Scott's jury-rigged automationwould help relieve the ship's shorthandedness . . .for about the last hour of the return trip. "How muchrefit time till we can take the ship out again?""Eight weeks, sir hisKirk started to protest, but before he could get aword out, Scott spoke again.was But ye dinna have eight weeks, so I'll doi' for ye in two."STAR TREK 111Kirk had the feeling the Scot had been waitingfor a very long time to spring that line on him. In the samespirit, he said, "Mr. Scott have you alwaysmultiplied your repair estimates by a factor offour?""Certainly, sir. How else would ye expectme to keep my reputation as a miracle worker?""Your reputation is secure, Scotty." Heturned off the intercom. "Captain Sulu, takethe cone. I'll be in my quarters.""Aye, sir," Sulu said.Kirk climbed the stairs to the upper level of thebridge. Before he got within range of theturbo-lift's sensors, one of the few traineeswho had remained on board half-rose."Sir I was wondering ?"The cadet was an electronics specialist whohad kept the navigational computer going during and afterthe battle, when Spock was no longer able to do so.Ignoring the breach of protocol, Kirk dredged inhis memory and came up with the youth's name."Yeses Foster, is it?""Aye, sir," Foster said. The pleasure andembarrassment at being recognised brought a redblush to his dark face. "I wondered, when weget home what should we expect? Does anybodyback on Earth know what happened out there?""Will they give us a hero's welcome?"Kirk smiled gently, for some of the youngsters, Fosteramong them, had behaved extraordinarily well forbeing half-trained and inexperienced. "Lord knows,son, they ought to. This time we paid for the party with ourdearest blood."He took the last step into the turbo-lift'ssensor field. The doors opened, and he disappearedbetween them.When the doors closed, cutting him off from theThe Search For Spockbridge, he let the mantle of command fallaway from his shoulders. He slumped against the wall.The respite would be short, but at least during theride to his quarters he could be free ofresponsibilities.The lift slowed and stopped, and the doors slidopen. Almost as a reflex, Kirk straightened up.McCoy stood in the doorway. He looked asif he had not slept in days, and as if, when hetried to sleep, he had lain down in his clothes. Thebeard repressor he used had worn off at leasttwenty-four hours ago. He needed a shave.He entered the elevator, turned to stand sideby side with Kirk, and gazed nonchalantlyat the ceiling. The lift hummed into motion again."Bones," Kirk said, a greeting with a hint of aquery in it."Jim," McCoy said stiffly, ignoring theimplied question.Kirk waited, hoping McCoy would offer someexplanation for his appearance, hoping he would show somesign of snapping out of his strange behavior.McCoy continued to stare at the ceiling."Are you planning," Kirk said with irritation,"to shave today?""Quo wadis, Admiral?" McCoy said."What is that supposed to mean?" Kirk searchedMcCoy's face, hoping to find what? A flash ofhis friend's intelligence and good sense pushing him beyond theguilt he felt for Spock's death? There was nothingMcCoy could have done,nothing any of them could do. If Spock had notbehaved as he had, the Vulcan would not have been theonly one to die. They all would be dead. ButMcCoy regarded any death as a personalfailure."What is our destination?" McCoy asked. Hearticu-87STAR TREK 111lated each word precisely, without contractions.No trace of his southern accent showed, though usuallyit was strongest when he was under stress."We'll be orbiting Earth in two hours,"Kirk said."Then we are headed in the wrong direction."He spoke as if to the air, without turning towardKirk, without taking his gaze from the ceiling."Bones, don't do this! This is me, Jim. Yourfriend."When McCoy spoke, his voice took on apeculiar, low timbre. "And I have been, andalways shall be, yours."Kirk suddenly shivered. The chill of fearinfuriated him. He wanted to grab McCoy andshake him back to his senses."Damn it, Bones! Don't quote Spockto me! I have enough pain of my own. I don't needyour your self-indulgence."McCoy slowly turned toward him. His eyes wereglazed. "You left me," he said in a completelymatterof-fact tone. "You left me on Genesis.Why did you do that?""What the hell are you saying?"McCoy blinked slowly, then suddenlyreacted to what he himself had just said."I don't know . . . I just . . ." Hestopped. "Why did we leave Spock?""Bones! You must deal with the truth. He's gone."Kirk gripped McCoy's upper arms. Hisintensity increased. "Spock is gone. We both haveto live with that."McCoy stared at him a moment, then lifted hishands and grasped Kirk's forearms in a gesture ofunderstanding and gratitude. They stayed like that only asplit second before McCoy pulled away.The turbo-lift stopped; the doors opened.McCoyThe Search For Spocktook one hurried step out, then swung backto face Kirk."I can't get him out of my head, Jim! I'dgive the whole state of Georgia if someone couldtell me why."The doors slid closed again, shutting Kirkoff, alone, angry, and confused.Valkris rose to her feet, taking onlydetached notice of the smoothness with which she moved. Thehigh gravity, the hours in one position,had no effect on her. She had never meditated insuch an intense gravity field before. She wished shehad discovered its beneficial properties muchsooner.The cabin held all her material possessions,which were honorably few in number. Valkris'wealth resided in the holdings of her bloodline, inher responsibilities, and in the duties she hadcarried out for her family. It resided particularlyin the duty she had carried out toward her brother."Kiosan, dear brother, may you drink andcarouse and gamble for all time," she said softly, withouta trace of irony or anger.She picked up her headcloth, put it on, anddrew the sheer fabric across her face. She couldsee perfectly, and felt comforted to know that thematerial was opaque from the other side, opaque to thebarbarians with whom she must treat;Then she left her cabin for the first time since thevoyage had begun.Valkris strode through the corridors of the ship,as repelled now by the shabby, dirty vessel as shehad been when first she boarded. The trip were bettermade on a sturdy, high-powered ship ofValkris' family's own production,but, alas, that was not to be. Not in this region ofspace.STAR TREK 111A shadow moved.Valkris stopped short, reaching for the duelingknife that hung almost, but not quite, concealed at herside.The shadow stepped forward, resolving itself into thefeline form of the ship's navigator. Farrendahlglided toward her, stalkingfour-legged, calmly inspecting her."Milady passenger," Farrendahl said softly,a purr in her voice. "To what event do we owe thehonor of your company?""Milady navigator," Valkris said."Does a simple constitutional qualify as anevent?""I wonder," said Farrendahl.The single most exciting thing Valkris had everseen was a performance of a hunt by a troupe ofFarrendahl's people. One of the reasons Valkris hadchosen this ship above another was her research into thecrew. She had hoped to speak with Farrendahl andto learn more about her civilisation and her people,who had been in space thousands of years longer thanany other known species. Farrendahl's kind didnot claim planets, they did not colonise, theydid not take territory. They only explored, andhunted, and made their homes beyond the frontiers ofspace. Perhaps, to them, the exploration and the hunt were thesame.These were the first words the two hadexchanged. When Valkris had come on board,she realised she could not take time to socialise.She had much to think over, much to work out. Shepreferred action to meditation, but her meditation hadbrought her to certain conclusions; and now she rather wishedshe had chosen not to hire this particular ship."Perhaps milady passenger would care to divulgeour destination? I am the navigator; I must know iteventually.""I think not," Valkris said. "As we arenearly there.""But there's no star system within a parsec!"- SoThe Search For Spock"Nevertheless," Valkris said.Farrendahl bristled out her whiskers and growledsoftly, a thoughtful sound."A rendezvous, then," she said."I did not say so.""You did not have to."Farrendahl's presumption amused and delightedValkris. It also made her very sad.But then she thought, If one were worthy . . . ifone were sufficiently perceptive . . .The handle of the dueling knife still lay cool inValkris' hand, but now she had no thought of drawingthe blade.The sheath of the knife was encrusted with flakes ofminerals, so finely-cut they appeared as gemstones.The sheath ended in a heavy mass of fringe that was alsothickly hung with cunningly milled discs of micain all the colors of the spectrum. Eachfrequency of color meantsomething different, some honor or remem-brance.Many her dueling records weretransparent and colorless, the representation ofemptiness, nothingness, death. She chose to carryonly one that was black; her disinclination to carry adisc for each member of her family was the onlyfault her bloodline could hold against her.She unfastened the length of fringe and drew it frombeneath her robe."Milady navigator," she said to Farrendahl,"I wish to give you a gift." She slid thesparkling strands across her palm, The sharp discstouched together with a sound as silver as water. "This mightbenefit you, one day. It has no intrinsicvalue. It is . . . symbolic." She offered itto Farrendahl. "Be careful," she said. "The edgesare quite sharp."The navigator accepted the decoration gingerly."Milady passenger . . . why do you honor me?"STAR TREK 111"You might," Valkris said, "call it awhim.""But I might not. was Farrendahl stroked thestrands so gently that she did not need to fear the razoredges. Her delicate, clawed fingers singled out theblack shard of mica. "Who is this?" she said.Valkris felt pleased beyond reason and dignity.Few in this region of space would understand, as thenavigator did, what she had been given, muchless the significance of its details. Ifanything she had underestimated Farrendahl, notoverestimated her."It is my brother, Kiosan," shesaid. "He, or any member of my bloodline, wouldrecognise what you hold, and honor it."Farrendahl looked up at her, seeking theexplanations that Valkris could not speak aloud."Milady passenger," Farrendahl said, "yourhand is bleeding. his"Yes," Valkris said. "It does notmatter."She strode down the passageway withoutlooking back.Farrendahl watched the mysterious passengerglide away. The ceremonial fringe, with itsadornment of electronically readable glass-chiprecords, hung heavy in her hands.Farrendahl did not understand why thepassenger would wish to warn her, a stranger. Shedid not understand why she had offered the warning in asymbolic and obscure way rather than directly.But she did understand what the warning was. At leastshe thought she did. And if she was right, she hadto make a decision instantly.Farrendahl attached the fringe to her belt, for shecarried no knife to which to fasten it. Then she spranginto a run, four-legged, and loped down thecorridor.She slid to a stop at Trants cabin and rakedher clawsThe Search For Spockacross the surface of the door, scratching the paintand the metal underneath. Like thepassenger's bleeding hand, that did not matter anymore."What is it?" Sleep slurred Tran'svoice. Like most primates, he woke slowly.But for a primate he was all right."Let me in," Farrendahl said.The door opened, and she paced into the darkness. Ina moment she could see. Tran sat in a tangle ofblankets, blinking the sleep from his eyes."What's the matter?""Get up. Hurry. We're leaving.""Leaving ?""Do you trust me?""In what context?" he said, sounding more awake.Farrendahl growled and turned on thecomputer terminal on the wall of Tran's cabin."I have no patience for discussions ofanthropoidal philosophy," she said. Shereproduced a securitybreachingprogram she had developed long ago, tunnelledinto the ship's computer, and disabled certain alarms. "Iam leaving this ship. I am leaving now. I have goodreason. You may come, or you may stay. It is ofno moment to me which you choose."Tran threw off the blankets and reached for hispants. "Then why are you bothering to tell me?"Farrendahl did not bother to reply. She hidher tracks in the computer with a flimsy cover that wouldbreak down under any scrutiny, but she doubtedanyone would have the chance even to begin an investigation."I guess if I've been promoted frompithecanthropoid to anthropoid was Tran fastenedhis belt and reached for his shirt."No time for all that foolishness!" Farrendahlsaid. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of hiscabin. 93STAR TREK 111He snatched up his shirt and his boots and carriedthem with him. Farrendahl raced down the corridor,pulling Tran behind her.Valkris swept into the control room."We're nearly there," the captain said when henoticed her."We are there," she said. "Kill allvelocity."The captain frowned, then nodded to the crew memberat the control console, giving assent to hispassenger's order."Where the hell's Farrendahl?" he said.The ship vibrated faintly as it deceleratedto counteract the forward momentum. And wasthat a slight sideways shudder, as of a smallcraft exiting its mother ship? Valkris could not becertain."We have no more need of a navigator,captain," she said evenly."Delta-vee zero.""Scan the area," the captain ordered.Valkris smiled to herself as the scanning began.It continued for some minutes. Valkris retiredto shadows in the back of the chamber, rather enjoying thecurious and very nervous glances of the disreputablerogues around her."Nothing, captain," the crew member said."Steady . . . steady, boys. Keepscanning." The captain gave Valkris apoisonous glance. "I thought you people were reliable. Wherethe hell is he?""He has been here for some time. I canfeel his presence.""Don't give me your Klingon mumbo-jumbo!There ain't another vessel in this whole damnedsector!"Valkris noticed the reaction among the crewto what their captain had said, and by it she understood thatThe Search For Spocknone but he, on this nominally Federation ship, hadknown till now who or what she was."Put me on the hailing frequency,"Valkris said, ignoring his impertinence. Nothing couldaffect her or offend her now."Sure," the captain said, sourly andsarcastically, "whatever games you want to play."He opened the channel for her, and nodded that it wasready.Valkris grasped the end of her headcloth, usingher uninjured right hand, and drew it slowly aside.The crew reacted uneasily to her appearance,their recent suspicions confirmed, new fearsengendered. Renegades they might be, but they wererenegades within the Federation, still a part of it.Valkris' people were their antagonists, unknown anddangerous.Approaching the transmitter, Valkris movedfrom shadows into light."Commander Kruge, this is Valkris. I haveobtained the Federation data, and I am readyto transmit.""Well done, Valkris. Stand by."Everyone in the control room, even the captain,started at the rough, powerful voice that crashed out of thespeaker. The voice spoke a few words which onlyValkris recognised, for they were in a Klingonlanguage. Now knowing precisely what Krugeplanned, she turned toward the viewport, watched,and waited."Oh, my gods," one of the crew memberswhispered.Like a ghost, like a creature of mist and fog, theKlingon fighter glowed into existence before the renegademerchant ship, very close,threatening. The Klingon craft had the sameeffect as its master's powerful voice."What the hell . . . ?" the merchant captainsaid.Valkris herself had never seen the cloakingdevice in action before. It impressed and fascinatedher. She 95STAR TREK 111watched carefully until the ship had takencomplete and solid shape."Transmit data," Commander Kruge said.Valkris withdrew the data record from an innerpocket of her robe and inserted it into thetransmission enclosure. The monitor blurredwith the highspeed transmission. Valkris could notresolve the images, but she knew every frame ofwhat she was sending."Transmission completed, Commander. You will find itessential to your mission."Valkris's hot blood streamed down herslashed wrist and palm and between her fingers, soaking theinner folds of her robe, growing cold. She wasbeginning to feel the effects of loss of blood.In the language of Kruge and Valkris, whichpossessed an almost limitless number of forms andvariations, every utterance had many layers, many meanings.When Kruge spoke again, he switched to the mostformal variation. Valkris understood it, as did allwell-born members of their society, but she hadnever spoken it, or had it spoken to her, outside theclassroom. She felt honored, and she knew forcertain that Kruge would keep the vows hehad made to her."Then you have seen the transmission," Kruge said,implying regret and inevitability."I have, my lord," Valkris replied, grantingpermission in the second stratum and offering forgivenessas the third."That is unfortunate," Kruge said, acceptingwhat she gave him and affirming that it was neitherfrivolously given nor lightly accepted."I understand," Valkris said. She made allthree strata the same, for she wanted him to know thatshe understood what she was doing and why, that she understoodwhat he was doing and why, and that she g6The Search For Spockunderstood that he would make certain the promisesmade to her would be kept."Thrusters," Kruge said, in the form of theirlanguage used by commanders to subordinates.In the viewport, the Klingon fighter changed.The wings of its aft armament section swung fromneutral into attack. The vessel rotated, arcingaround until its bulbous command chamber thrust towardthe merchant ship.The merchant captain turned on Valkris in afury."What's going on? When do we get paid off?""Soon, Captain," Valkris said. "Quitesoon." She spoke again, in formal tongue,to Kruge. "Success, Commander. And my love."She did love him, indeed, as the instrument of herbloodline's redemption.She felt curiously lightheaded and happy.Happiness had deserted her for far too long. Shewas glad to experience it this one last time."You will be remembered with honor," Kruge said.Then he switched dialects again. Valkris knewhe was speaking so she would be sure to hear his command"Fire!"The Klingon fighter swept toward them like ahunting falcon. Valkris did not see the beamsof energy, for their destructive force reached themerchant ship at the same instant as the coherentlight that formed them. The ship quaked. People shouted, thenscreamed. Valkris smelled the acrid smoke ofburning insulation and flash-burned computercircuits. She heard the terrible hiss of escapingair.I have shown my face to the world longenough, she thought. It is time to return to thecustoms of my family.Her left hand was dark with blood. It marred thewhiteness of the veil as she covered her face for the lasttime.STAR TREK 111"For gods' sake!" the merchant captain cried."Make him help us! We'll keep your damnsecrets, just don't let him space us!"Valkris closed her eyes.The bulkhead imploded upon her.The merchant ship exploded into slag. A shockwave of pure energy battered its scout ship, whichFarrendahl had gentled out into space and concealed againstthe side of the larger craft. At the instant of theexplosion, Farrendahl hit the acceleration hard,cut it just as abruptly, and fired all the steeringrockets at once. The maneuver blasted the scoutout of its hiding place along the merchant's flankand put so much roll, pitch, and yaw on the scout thatit would look like merely another bit of explodeddebris.Tran shouted an inarticulate curse.The scout was far too small to carry gravity, sothe spin had its full effects on the occupants.Farrendahl struggled to keep her bearings andher consciousness. When she could stand the erratictumbling no more, she gradually engaged the steeringrockets and brought the scout to a steadier course.She dared not do it quickly lest the attacker noticethat this bit of the ship moved under its own power."So "we may have to just turn around and go backinside," huh?" Tran said, still stunned anddizzy. That had been the only explanationFarrendahl would give him, till now, and now theexplanation was obvious.She used the aft scanners. Through theexpanding, thinning cloud of debris, Farrendahlsaw the Klingon ship send one last blast of energyagainst the destroyed merchant, then turn away from itskill and head toward Federation territory."Where did it come from?" Tran said."Out of the ether," Farrendahl said.The Search For SpockThe scout ship carried too little fuel to reach thenearest inhabited star system. She plotted alow-fuel course toward the nearest shipping lane,where they stood an excellent chance of being pickedup. It would take them a while to get there. Just aswell before they were rescued, they would needto fabricate a believable andinnocuous explanation for their plight.Commander Kruge watched the ramshacklemerchant ship go violently and silentlyto pieces under his fire. He stroked the spiny crestof his mascot, Warrigul, who sat by his sidewhining and hissing with excitement.The demise of an opponent offered moresatisfaction if the death came slowly, but themerchant was too easy a catch to be treated as anopponent. Besides, Kruge deigned to giveValkris a clean finish.He nodded to his gunner, who reacted to theunusual order without question or hesitation. He firedthe beams and blew the merchant ship beyond atoms.The few remaining bits of debris tumbledaway. Kruge felt completely satisfied. Hisonly regret was never meeting Valkris faceto face. He had heard much of her, both before herbloodline came to grief and after. Her information wouldwin for him a great triumph; her death would returnher family to its previous place in theirsociety's hierarchy. Kruge doubted that thefamily had another member to choose who would be thematch of the formidable VaLkris. Hewondered if he himself could match her. He was good, butshe was renowned as a duelist. Now he would never havethe chance to test himself against her.Kruge rose and surveyed the work pit. His commandchair stood at a level that put him well above theheads of the crew members. None looked at him.Each bent intently over the task at hand, fearing acharge of laziness and the resulting discipline. Krugecould findSTAR TREK Hlsome breach of regulations under almost anycircumstances, but having just asserted his dominance overthe merchant ship, he felt no need to assert hiscomplete authority over his crew.He removed the data plaque from the recorder andslipped it under his belt.Warrigul rubbed its head against Kruge'sknee. Its spines scraped against the heavy fabricof the commander's trousers. Kruge reached down andscratched behind his pet's ears. Warrigul leanedharder against him. It was the only creature on boardabout whose loyalty the commander had no doubt whatsoever.Everyone else might be a spy, a challenger, atraitor.Kruge glanced at his assistant. As usual,Maltz reacted badly to ambush. The officer wasdeplorably sensitive to violence. Krugekept him on because he was an excellentadministrator and follower-of-orders, because Maltzseldom thought for himself, and because while he mightbetray Kruge anyone might become a betrayerhewould never challenge his commander. It was inconceivablethat any of their superiors would consider Maltz asuitable replacement for Kruge. Maltz not onlysupported Kruge's position, he insured it.Therefore Kruge pretended never to notice behaviorthat some less deviouscommander might not have tolerated."I'll be in my quarters," Kruge said."Execute a course to the Federation boundary.""Yes, my lord!" Maltz said, and hurried to dohis bidding.Kruge started away. Warrigul trotted afterhim, growling. One of the crew members in the work pitflinched. He glanced away from his work long enough to becertain Warrigul was not growling at him, then lookedquickly down at his console again. Kruge stopped. Hisboots were on a level just above that of 100The Search For Spockthe crew member's head. The crew memberreluctantly raised his head when he realizedKruge was not going to move.Kruge gestured casually at Warrigul."You may have the honor of feeding my pet," hesaid.Struggling to keep the fear from his expression, theunderling nodded vigorously. Kruge was so amused thathe decided not even to discipline him for failingto answer properly.The commander strode toward his quarters, where hekept a secure data-viewer. He was exceedinglyanxious to watch what Valkris had obtained forhim.Chapter 5Federation science ship Gr tilde ssom sailedout of the darkness and into sunrise, crossing theterminator of the brand new world. David was excitedand pleased by what he had seen so far. For a first try,Genesis was a smashing success. Saavik, asusual in public, showed no emotion. He wishedthey could go off somewhere and talk so he could [md outwhat she really thought."New orbit commencing," she said. "Coming up onsector three."She was upset by their discovering CaptainSpock's coffin down on the surface, Davidknew it, but she hid the fact well. Daviddecided to try to persuade Captain Estebanto send somepeople down to bury the tube."Short range scan," he said.Saavik studied the sensors. "As before,metallic mass. Verifying triminium photontube. No new data.""Check for trace radiation. Infraredenhancement."The Search For SpockDavid had observed Captain Esteban'stendency toward overcautiousness. He would surelywant to have proof that the tube was safe before hepermitted anyone to approach it."Residual radiation only," Saavik said."The level is minimal."The sensor output changed abruptly. Davidstarted violently and hurried to Saavik's side.Studying the monitor intensely, sheadjusted the controls. But the new sound meant more thansimple interference. Instead of fading, it sharpened andstrengthened."I don't believe it," David said.Captain Esteban, who had been hoveringaround them for the whole two hours of the first orbit,leaned over his shoulder to see the screen."What is it?""If our equipment is functioning properly,"Saavik said, "the indications are . . . ananimal life form."Esteban folded his arms. "You said there wouldn't beany," he said to David."There shouldn't be any. We only enabled theplant forms in the Genesis matrix."Captain Esteban seemed unwilling to acceptwhat David had tried to tell him several times thatGenesis was an experiment. Besides being aprototype, the torpedo had detonated in anenvironment completely different from the one it had beendesigned to affect. And who knew what KhanSingh might have done while he possessed thedevice? However obsessed he was, he had to havebeen a brilliant man. He could surely havediscovered how to turn on the programs theteam had disabled for the first use of Genesis.That must be what happened, David thought, if thisreading isn't just a sensor gremlin. If Khan wasgoing to use Genesis to create a world for his people to liveon,STAR TREK Illhe would have wanted the complete ecosphere,animals included. He would have known hecouldn't import any species from Earth that's fordamned sure!But David had to wonder why it had taken afull orbit to find the first animal life form.He pushed away his worries. Animal lifewas decidedly not a symptom of the things David hadmost feared might go wrong.Good grief, now you're sounding like Esteban,David said to himself. You're demanding a completeanalysis to ten decimal places before you have enoughinformation for a firstapproximation. Go ahead and form a hypothesis ifyou want, but don't turn it into a natural lawbefore you've collected any data.Then he thought, Holy Heisenberg, what ifVance's dragons really are down there? Thatwould please mother.Saavik had been working while Daviddaydreamed and Esteban hovered."Cross-referenced and verified," she said. "Anunidentified animate life form."Saavik had been trying to analyze her ownreaction to the discovery of Spock's coffin. At thetime of Spock's funeral, sending his bodyto intersect the Genesis wave, to disintegrate into itssubelementary particles and be incorporated into the veryfabric of the new world, had seemed to Saavik anelegant solution, one Spock would have approved.Disobeying Admiral Kirk's orders soflagrantly had troubled her slightly, but herloyalty to Spock was of a higher order entirely.In truth, she believed she was the only person whocould understand him and appreciate his life.Now, having disobeyed Admiral Kirk'sinstructions, having chosen an orbit of her owndesign, she must take the responsibility for whathad happened. But what had happened? Shewas dealing with forces that no one 104The Search For Spockyet completely understood. Again and again Davidhad stressed the potential for unexpectedevents. Perhaps the potential reached as far asinexplicable occurrences . . .For something or someone was down there on that planet.Saavik glanced at David and saw that he was asperplexed as she, yet both delighted and excited.She wished they could go off in private and discusswhat they had found.Esteban rubbed his jaw."Do you wish to advise Starfleet, sir?" thecommunications officer said."Wait a minute," Esteban said. "Wedon't know what we're talking about here.""Why don't we beam it up?" David said, justto watch Esteban react."Oh, no, you don't!" Esteban said sharply."Regulations specifically state, "Nothing shall bebeamed aboard until danger of contamination has beeneliminated." Can you guarantee that?"David reflected that it was no fun to pullsomeone's leg if he never eventually realised legwas being pulled."Not from here, no," the young scientist said."Captain," Saavik said, "the logicalalternative is obvious. Beaming down to thesurface ispermitted hiswas "If the captain determines that the mission isvital and reasonably free of danger." I knowthe book, Lieutenant Saavik.""Captain, please," David said. He wasgetting sick and tired of having Starfleetregulations quoted at him in regard to his ownproject. "We'll take the risk. We've gotto find out what's down there!""Or who," Saavik said, very softly.David glanced at her, startled. 105STAR TREK 111Estebannodded thoughtfully to David. "Allright," he said. "Get your gear. I'll put youdown next time around.""Thank you sir," David said.Starfleet Cadet R. Grenni awoke in thetrainees' dorm. He felt groggy, and his headached. He had slept too much. He had nothingelse to do. Whenever he slept, he hadnightmares but even the nightmares were better thanthe things he remembered.He wished he were back on the Enterprise. Atleast there he would have work to do. He had volunteeredto stay, but he had been transferredto Firenze along with most of his other classmates.Only a few essential cadets had been lefton board the Enterprise. Obviously, CommanderScott had not considered Grenni essential.When Firenze reached Earth, Starfleet gaveall the trainees several weeks' leave. If theyhad deliberately planned to torture Grenni,they could not have chosen a better way.His message light was glowing. He stumbled to thereception panel. Hands trembling, heart beatingviolently, he accepted the communication. They hadcaught up to him, they had realized their mistake.This must be his summons to a court-martialA small packet fell into the slot.Reluctantly, he opened the door. The envelopebore the seal of Starfleet in gold and blue. Hepicked it up and fumbled at the flap until itcame loose."By order of Admiral James T. Kirk,"he read, "you are presented with the gold star ofvalor, jeweled . . ."The gold star was for conspicuous bravery. Thejewel signified an engagement in which lives hadbeen lost. Humans received a ruby. It stood forblood. Grenni's hands started to shake.He blinked rapidly, forcingThe Search For Spockaway tears. He barely made it through the restof the message. It commanded him and the rest of his classto appear at Starfleet headquarters a few days fromnow, for the formal presentation of the medal.The delicate gold star, with ruby, fell out of theenvelope and into his hand.On the bridge of the Enterprise, Jim Kirkleaned back in the captain's seat. Before him,Spacedock grew slowly larger. The ship wasnearly home. Kirk felt almost as he had in theold days. He could almost forget the Enterprise wasrunning on automatic because it had even less thana skeleton crew He could almost forget that the shipwas patched and scarred and battle-worn. He couldalmost forget the empty chair behind him.Almost."Stand by, automatic approach system," hesaid. "Advise approach control.""Approach control, this is USSEnterprise," Uhura said. "Ready for dockingmaneuver."The controller came back with a crisp,clear voice. "Enterprise is cleared to dock.""Lock on."Sulu transferred control to Spacedock."Systems locked.""Spacedock," Kirk said, "you have control.""Affirmative, Enterprise. Enjoy the ride,and welcome home.""Enterprise confirms. With thanks."The ship approached the dock in a huge curve,arcing around its flank and spiraling in to approachthreshold number fifteen. The great encloseddocking bay allowed people to work outside the ship, yetit protected them from the free radiation of space.The Enterprise sailed closer and closerto Spacedock, heading straight at the closedradiation-shield doors.STAR TREK 111Kirk never liked having to give up directcontrol of his ship.Finally, at what seemed to him the last second,the massive doors parted silently. TheEnterprise coasted in and moved slowly and silentlyinto the bay. It passed ships under construction and shipsunder repair, ships in storage, anddecommissioned ships only waiting to bedismantled.The enormous bay stretched off into darkness, withonly a single pool of light in its entire length.The Enterprise came abreast of the lights, whereNX 2000, USS Excelsior, floatedamong its acolytes as they readied it for its firstvoyage. It was a beautiful ship, sleek and new,its burnished hull untouched by radiation ormicrometeorites or battle."Would you look at that?" Uhura said."My friends," Kirk said, "the great experimentExcelsior, ready for trial runs."Kirk glanced at Sulu, approving of hisrestraint. Excelsior was Sulu's nextassignment, his first command. In many respects,Sulu was Kirk's protege. The admiral wasproud of the young captain. Kirk searched his heart forenvy and found none. Excelsior belonged to Sulu.Kirk's ship was the Enterprise, and he wantednone other."It has transwarp drive," Sulu saidmatterof-factly."Aye," Scott said, "and if my grandmother hadwheels, she'd be a wagon.""Mr. Scott," Kirk said with mild reproof."I'm sorry, sir, but as far as I'm concerned,there's nothin' needed for space travel that this oldgirl doesn't already have.""Come come, Scotty," Kirk said. "Youngminds. Fresh ideas." His voice grew dry."Be tolerant."Sulu smiled to himself, refusing to be baited by theconversation. Behind his calm facade he glowed withThe Search For Spockpride. Excelsior was his ship, the ship he hadworked so hard and waited so long to command. He knewits lines by heart. He had hadconsiderable say in its design. He was so proudof the ship that even Mr. Scott's criticisms couldnot get very far under his skin.He had been around and around aboutExcelsior with Scott. Scott thoughtExcelsior was a kludge, full of extraneousbells and whistles. Sulu was beginning to think thatScott was turning into a sort of high-techLuddite, wanting to go just so far and no farther,afraid of any more advances.The engineer would change his mind if heever got a chance to work inside those engines. Sulugazed at his ship, and the sight of it gave him nearlyenough pleasure to overcome the tragedies of the past fewdays, nearly enough pleasure to overcome his naturalreserve and make him laugh aloud.After the Enterprise passed Excelsior,Sulu noticed movement behind the row of smallports along the upper level of Docking Bay15, the ports that opened out from the cafeteria.Sulu looked more closely.Everyone sitting up there, drinking coffee, shootingthe breeze, relaxing, saw the Enterprise'sapproach. As the great ship limped its slow,stately way to its berth, all along the line the peoplerose in silent acclamation.Jim Kirk, too, grew aware of the homage.He fought with powerful and conflicting emotions. When thecontroller demanded his attention, he felt glad of thedistraction."Enterprise, stand by for final dockingprocedure.""Standing by. Mr. Sulu, activate moorings.Stand by umbilical and gravitational supportsystems.""Aye, sir. Moorings activated.All systems standing by.""Admiral!" Chekov exclaimed. "This is notpossible!"STAR TREK lll"What is it, Mr. Chekov?""Energy reading from C deck . . . from insideMr. Spock's quarters.""Mr. Chekov, I ordered Spock's quarterssealed!" Kirk said angrily."Yes, sir, I sealed room myself. Nevertheless,I am reading life form there.""Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, his voice angryand quiet, "this entire crew seems on the edge ofobsessive behavior concerning Mr. Spock."Chekov opened his mouth to protest. Kirk cut himoff with a sharp gesture. "I'll have a look. Mr.Sulu, continue docking procedure."Kirk strode from the bridge. As the doorsclosed behind him, Chekov shrugged fatalistically.He saw what he saw. In an assertion ofVulcan logic that had seemed completelyillogical to Chekov, Spock had always refusedto lock his cabin, or even to go through the securityprocedures with the computer that would permit itto be locked if he chose. Vulcans never usedlocks. It was a matter of principle with Spock.Because of the damage to the electronic systems of theEnterpr tilde se, Chekov had not been ableto initiate the procedures himself when Kirk orderedthe cabin closed off. Instead, Chekov secured thedoor mechanically, that is, with an alarm, withsensors, andwitha lead seal and stamp from the ship'sarchives. Consequently, someone could have broken in.And unless the sensors had gone completely wonky(which was also possible), apparently someone had.Kirk strode toward Spock's room, histemper frayed comand just short of breaking. If one of thecadets had entered Spock's room, if this were sometasteless andThe Search For Spockthoughtless practical joke then Kirk would soonbe giving someone a lesson in the uses of blackhumor.An alarm was ringing softly. Kirk broke into arun, then slowed abruptly so as to come upon theintruder unaware.At Spock's door he stopped short. Aviolent force had ripped away the seal andwrenched open the door, as if an intruder ofenormous strength had been too distressed, toodesperate, to try any method but direct force.Kirk touched the alarm, and it faded to silence.He squinted, but saw nothing through thedarkness. He stepped cautiously forward, waitingfor his eyes to become acclimated to the low light."Jim . . . help me . . ."Kirk gasped. The voice was Spock's."Take me up . . . up the steps . . . ofMount Seleya . . . through the hall of ancientthought . . ."Kirk clenched his fists. His hands were shaking withanger and shock. He peered more deeply into the shadowsand sawThe indistinct form plunged toward him out of thedarkness, knocking him aside. Kirk grabbed it andwrestled with it. Its strength was enormous. Somehowhe got a judo hold on his opponent and wrenchedhim down and into submission. They both fell to thefloor and into the lights from the corridor.McCoy struggled against him."Bones! What the hell are you doing? Have you lostyour mind?"McCoy stared at him blankly."Help me, Jim. Take me home." Hisvoice rasped, totally drained of strength."That's where we are, Bones," Kirk saidgently. "We are home."STAR TREK 111"Then ... perhaps there is still time.... Climb thesteps, Jim.... Climb the steps of MountSeleya....""Mount Seleya? Bones, Mount Seleya ison Vulcan! We're home! We're onEarth!"McCoy's e mpty stare continued. Kirk loosedhis hold on the doctor's arm."Remember!" McCoy said.In Spock's unmistakable voice."Rememberff99Kirk knelt on the cold deck, frozen withshock."Admiral," Uhura said through the intercom,"docking is completed. StarfleetCommander Morrowis on his way for inspection."McCoy shuddered, tried to rise, and fainted.Kirk caught him before he hit the floor."Uhura! Get the medics down here!Get them now!"He held McCoy, feeling the doctor'spulse race frantically, thready and weak."Bones, it's all right," he said. "It will beall right."But he wondered, Will it? What in heaven's nameis happening to us all?The skeleton crew of the Enterprise assembledin the docking chamber in preparation for StarfleetCommander Morrow's review."Tetch-hut!"The boatswain's pipe wailed eerily, thedoors slid open, and "fleet Commander Morrowstepped on board, his aide close behind."Welcome aboard, Admiral."Morrow grasped Kirk's shoulders."Welcome home, Jim," he said. He tightenedhis hands. "Well done."He embraced Kirk. The sincere affection betweenthem was of long standing. Morrow had been Kirk's firstcommanding officer. He had sponsored him for hisThe Search For Spockcaptaincy, and again for his promotion to the generalstaff."Thank you, sir," Kirk said, as Morrowstepped back. To break the tension he said wryly,"I take it this is not a formal inspection?"A ripple of half-repressed laughter spreadthrough the small group."No. At ease, everyone." Morrow glancedaround. "Where's Dr. McCoy?"Kirk hesitated. "Indisposed, sir.""Ah," Morrow said, "too bad." Taking thehint, he dropped the subject. "Well. You haveall done remarkable service under the most . . .difficult . . . of conditions. You'll be receivingStarfleet's highest commendations. And moreimportant extended shore leave."The youngsters, particularly, reacted with pleasedsurprise and anticipation."That is shore leave for everyone but you, Mr.Scott. We need your wisdom on the newExcelsior. Report there tomorrow as Captain ofEngineering.""Tomorrow isna possible, Admiral," Scottsaid, "And forbye, with all appreciation, sir, I'dprefer to oversee the refitting of the Enterprise.If it's all the same to ye, I'll come backhere.""I don't think that's wise, Mr. Scott.""But, sir, no one knows this ship like I do. Therefit will take a practiced hand. There's much to dowas He glanced at Kirk. "It could be months.""That's one of the problems, Mr. Scott.""Well, I might be able to do i" for ye a littlequicker his"You simply don't know what you're asking.""Then perhaps the admiral would be so kind asto enlighten me."STAR TREK ill"I can cut you new orders to stay and oversee theEnterprise was he said."I'd thank ye for that."was but the orders would have to be for you to oversee theship's dismantling."Jim Kirk felt the blood drain from his face.He could hear exclamations of shock from the crew aroundhim."I'm sorry, Mr. Scott," Morrow said."There isn't going to be a refit.""But ye canna do that!""Admiral, I don't understand," Kirk said."The Enterprise his"Is twenty years old. Its day is over,Jim." His sorrow was sincere, but he made nopretence that the order was anything but final. "The shipis obsolete. We kept it on as a trainingvessel, mainly because you insisted. But after this lasttrip . . . well, it's clear just by looking at theship that it's seen its last encounter.""Ye've no e'en done an inspection!" Scottcried. "Ye canna just look at a ship and condemnit to the scrap heap! All ye need do is gi' methe materiel I requisitioned his"Your requisitions have been through athorough analysis. We gave the ship every pointwe could I made sure of that. But it simplyisn't cost-effective to bring it backto optimum."""Cost-effective"!" Scott mutteredangrily. ""Optimum"! What d'ye his"Scatty," Kirk said gently.Scott opened his mouth, saw the look onKirk's face, closed his mouth, and resentfullysubsided."Scotty, go on over to Excelsior for the timebeing his"Nay!" Scott said. "Do ye no'understand? It isna possible!""Indeed?" The frost in Morrow's single word lowThe Search For Spockered the temperature ten degrees. He was notused to having his orders questioned, much less directlyrefused."My nephew Peter is still on board theEnterprise," Scott said. "His body is.I must take him home, to my sister. To hisgrave."The admiral relented. "I see. Of course,you must go to Earth. But Mr. Scott, thepreliminary test of the engines is urgent. You're thebest man for the job. In a day or so his"I canna promise. I willua. Some thingsthere be that are more important than starships, and one ofthem is family, one of them is ties of blood."He hurried from the docking bay.Kirk turned to Morrow."Admiral, I requested I'd hoped to takethe Enterprise back to Genesis.""Genesis!" Morrow exclaimed. "Whateverfor?""Why a natural desire to helpfinish the work we began. Dr. Marcus iscertainly ghing to want to return his"It's out of the question. No one else is goingto Genesis.""May I ask why?"Morrow sighed. "Jim . . . in your absence,Genesis has become a galactic controversy.Until the Federation Council makes policy, youare all under orders not to discuss Genesis. Considerit a quarantined planet . . . and a forbiddensubject."Morrow's expression forbade argument in general,and argument before the assembled ship's crew inparticular."Dismissed," Kirk said.Sulu broke off from the rest of the crew of theEnterprise before they reached the transporter room.STAR TREK illHe had no reason to return to Earth immediately, andno desire whatever for shore leave. All hewanted was to get back to Excelsior. He hadgone on the Enterpnse training cruise as afavor, out of courtesy to James Kirk. He shouldhave been back on board his own ship daysago.""Captain Sulu," Morrow said.Sulu turned back. "Yes, sir?""Where are you going?""To Excelswr, sir. I'm several days lateas it is.""Would you come with us, instead, for the time being?"Sulu hesitated, but Morrow had given him,however subtly, a direct order if he had everheard one."If you please," Morrow said."Yes, sir." Sulu followed, trying to wardoff a deep feeling of apprehension.Morrow did not speak to him again until they hadbeamed back to Starfleet headquarters on Earth.The Starfleet Commander bid good-bye to Kirk and theothers. Sulu waited for anexplanation. When everyone else had gone,Morrow motioned to Sulu to accompany him. Theywent into his office, and he closed the door."Please sit down, Captain," he said.Sulu complied."I appreciate your patience," Morrow said."I have a delicate situation here that I hope you canhelp me out with."Sulu resisted the obvious invitation to offer to doanything he could."How much do you know about Genesis?"Morrow asked."I know who developed it, I know what itdoes. I've seen it work." He knew a few ofits technical details, for though he had not seenCarol Marcus' fabledThe Search For Spockproposal tape, he hardly needed to. Theship's grapevine had described it quite thoroughly."Do you know what its effect back here hasbeen?""No, sire'"The uproar has been . . . well . . .considerable. There's going to be a Federation inquiry,and a summit meeting. I'm afraid I'm going to haveto ask everyone who was on board the Enterprise duringthis recent . . . incident . . . to keep themselvesavailable to offer testimony. This will pose nodifficulties for the others. But in your case . . ."Sulu saw where this was all heading. He rose inprotest."Please sit down, Captain,"Morrow said."May I assume that the Admiral has alreadyrewritten my orders?" Sulu said stiffly. Heremained standing."Yes. I'm sorry.""Permanently?""I sincerely hope not, Captain. In a fewmonths, when this has all blown over . . ."Sulu held back his protest. He knew that itwould do no good, and furthermore that he could onlyhumiliate himself by making it."So many factors are involved," Morrow said."The ramifications of the Genesis incidentcomplicate matters beyond any of ourexpectations. But above that, our investment inExcelsior precludes our keeping it in its berthindefinitely. The shakedown cruise must occur asscheduled. Captain Styles will take over for youwhile you're otherwise occupied.""I see," Sulu said. Anger made his wordstight and hard, but he did not raise his voice.He also did not say, What about afterwards? Do youreally expect me to believe that afterwards, after Styleshas had a chance to 117STAR TREK Incommand that ship, that he'll turn Excelsior overto me without a protest?All this was equally obvious to Morrow, who atleast had the good grace to look embarrassed."Captain, after all the turmoil has died down,I promise you Starfleet will make this up to you.Even if things don't turn out quite as we expect,you'll find your cooperation well rewarded."No ship existed, no ship was even planned, thatcame close to Excelsior. Sulu feared thatonce he lost it, he lost it forever. Being told thatsomething could make up for that was sooutrageous, so absurd, that Sulu nearly burstout laughing."I will find that reward quite fascinatingto contemplate," Sulu said bitterly. "If theAdmiral will pardon me, I have absolutelynothing to do."Morrow frowned at him, not knowing how to interpretwhat Sulu said.Without waiting to be dismissed, Sulu turned andstrode from the lavishly appointed office.Dan nan Stuart awakened at sunrise, in hermother's house. The young starfleet pilot could smellthe newcut hay from the field beyond the horsepasture. The bird that had been singing all night,confused by the huge full moon, twitteredinto silence. Dannan flung off the bedclothes andwrapped herself in her silken. It clasped itself aroundher.The floor creaked beneath her bare feet. Sheleaned on the sill of the small window and looked outacross the valley. The wall of the house was half ameter thick, for Dannan's mother's house was fivehundred years old and more. Its massive wallsinsulated the interior against the occasional summer heatof northern Scotland, and against the continual dampcold of winter. Today would be a perfect day, cooland sharp, the sun 118The Search For Spockbright. A better day for saying hello than sayinggood-bye.The valley glowed with dawn. Dew lay thickon every surface. Dannan could see a darker paththrough the silvered grass, where her little brother's oldpony had made its way to the creek to drink.Dannan remembered coming homefrom school on vacation and looking out on mornings justlike this, to see young Peter riding Star bareback andbridleless at a gallop across the field.She remembered all the times she had been mean andimpatient, when the prospect of taking care of apesky child had been too much to bear. Often she hadbeen too busy to pay him much heed. She had beenso eager to go off drinking and carousing with her friends that shehad pushed Peter aside. All he had everwanted, since he was old enough to understand what Dannanplanned for her life, all he had ever wanted fromher was to hear her tell her stories.Poor kid, she thought, poor brother. We didhave some fun, in the last few years, but I regretall the times I closed you out and went my own way.I hope you found it in your heart to forgive me.She whistled from the window. A few minutes laterStar trotted slowly over the crest of the hill. Hewas old and stiff, and he had been retired sincePeter went away to school. The bay pony'sblack muzzle was speckled with white.Dannan climbed down the steep, twisty stairsto the main floor of the house, grabbed a carrot and apiece of bread from the kitchen, and ran through the backyard to the pasture fence. The dew was cold on herfeet, but the water beaded up on the silken. Themotion of her running spun the droplets sparklinginto the sunlight.Star whickered at her and reached his head over thefence for the treats she brought. He nipped up thebread with his soft, mobile lips and crunched thecarrotSTAR TREK Inin two bites. Dannan rubbed his cheek, thentraced the unusual five-pointed marking of whiteon his forehead.When Peter came home and whistled, Star whinniedlike a colt and galloped to him, age and arthritisforgotten."Poor old boy," Dannan said. "You'relucky, you never have to understand he isn't coming back.Maybe you'll even forget him."She gave the pony one last pat and trudgedback across the wet grass. The house peered at herfrom beneath eyebrows of thick willow thatch, where the edgeof the roof had been trimmed in graceful curvesto leave the upstairs windows open to the light.In the kitchen she made a pot of coffee and putthe morning's bread in to bake, though she did notfeel very hungry. She had not, since hearing thenews of Peter's death on board the Enterpnse.The kitchen led into her mother's studio.Dannan could smell the heavy odor of wet clayand the sharper electric tang of ozone from the kiln.Dannan rubbed her fingers around the fluid shape of themug from which she drank her coffee. Her mother sent hersculptures and commissions into the city to be fired inher cooperative's radioactive kiln. Theradiation interacted with the glazes she used, producingan unusual depth and patina. But the things shethrew for use around the house, she fired in thetraditional way in her studio.She had spent all day, and most of the night, in thestudio. Dannan had left her alone. It was hermother's way, in bad times, to close herself off with herwork. Dannan would have liked to talk about what hadhappened and about Peter, but she knew her mother would notbe able to do that for some while yet.Dannan heard a brief, shivery sound from thestreet outside, a sound she knew well butseldom heard in herThe Search For Spockmother's house. Dannan preferred travelinghereby more ordinary means, by train or ground car. The timegave her a chance to make thetransition from high tech to countryside.Beaming in, besides being too expensive to use very oftenfor personal business, was terribly abrupt.But the sound of a transporter beam wasunrnistakable. The loud knock at the front doorconfirmed her assumption.She hurried into the hallway and opened the door justas her uncle, Montgomery Scott ofStarfieet, raised his hand to rap insistently again."Hush, uncle," she said. "Mother's asleepdon't you know what time it is?""Nay," Uncle Montgomery said. "I dinnathink to look.""It's just past dawn." Even thirty years ona starship should not have taken his ability to glance at theheight of the sun and realize it was early; but, then,even thirty years on a starship had not changed hisindifference to the subtler niceties of socialinteraction.Montgomery stood on the doorstep just off thedeserted cobbled street. One of the things Dannanloved about this house was that its front door leddirectly into the village and its back into thecountryside. She had grown up here, she was usedto it, but friends she had brought home from school for avisit, when she was in the Academy, neverfailed to find it surprising."Well?" said Uncle Montgomery. "Are yegoing to let me in or are ye going to stand in the streetall day in thy skiwies?""Don't insult my clothing," Dannan said."It's sensitive to discourtesy.""I knew I should ha' beamed straight in," hemuttered.STAR TREK lllDannan stood aside to let him pass. EvenUncle Montgomery had better manners thanto beam directly into a private home, whether itbelonged to his sister or not.He tramped to the kitchen and looked at thecoffeepot with distaste."Is there no tea?""You know where it is as well as I do," Dannansaid. She sat down and hooked her bare feet overa rung of the chair."I'm in no mood for shine impertinence, younglady," he said."We're not on Starfleet ground now," she said.She resisted pointing out that even when they were onStarfleet ground, she was only one gradein rank beneath him and thus rated being treated as acolleague rather than as a subordinate. "We'reboth guests in mother's house, and I think we shouldcall a truce."He shrugged and sat down without getting himself anytea. He fidgeted in silence for some minutes."When is the funeral?" he finally asked."Ten o'clock," Dannan said.He lapsed again into silence. Dannan could not thinkof any subject to bring up that would not cause one orthe other or both of them pain. They had never gotalong very well. He had opposed her joiningStarfleet, saying she was too spoiled andundisciplined ever to succeed. When she did succeed,he never acknowledged it. He never said a wordto indicate that he had been wrong. Dannanassumed he was still waiting for her to fail.The message system chimed softly and the receptionlight turned on. Grateful for the diversion,Dannan rose to check it.The message was addressed to her. This surprisedThe Search For Spockher. No one but Hunter, her commanding of ricer,knew where she had gone. She turned iton.Dannan immediately recognised the image that formedbefore her. Peter had describedLieutenant Saavik in his letters more than once.She was just as beautiful as he had said. She had greatpresence; she gave the impression of strength,intelligence, and depth. Dannan began to understand whyPeter had spent so much time talking about her when hewrote."Please forgive me for intruding upon yourprivacy," the young Vulcan said. "My name isSaavik. I cannot convey my message in person,as I am unable to accompany the Enterpriseto Earth. I knew your brother, Peter Preston.He spoke of you often, with admiration and with love.He was my student in mathematics. He was quick anddiligent and he found great satisfaction in thebeauty of the subject." The image of Saavikhesitated. "Though I was the teacher, he taught memany things. The most important lesson was that offriendship, which I had never experienced before I met yourbrother. I may discover other friends, but I will cherishthe memory of Peter always. I would not have been ableto speak of these feelings had I never met him; that isone of the things he taught me. He was asweet child, a wholly admirable person, and hesaved many lives with his sacrifice. This is perhaps aslittle comfort to you as tilde it is to me, but it istrue." Saavik paused, collecting herself,Dannan thought, fighting to keep her emotions hidden,as her culture demanded. "I hope that someday wemay meet, and speak of him to each other.Farewell."The image on the tape faded out. Dannanremoved the message disk and slid it inside hersilken, which obediently formed a pocket for it.Dannan returned to the kitchen. 123STAR TREK Ill"What was that?""Just a message," Dannan said, trying to keepher voice steady. "Uncle, what happened?" Whenshe asked the question, her voice did break."I canna tell ye," he said. ""Tis alltop secret.""But everybody already knows about Genesis,"Dannan said. "Trust Starfleet to put somethingeverybody already knows under seal! But I don't careabout that. I just want to know what happened to Peter!""I'll not have you maligning Starfleet his"What was he doing on the Enterprise,anyway? Why was he under your command?""Because ye wouldna take him under yours!""I'm his sister! It wasn't proper for either oneof us to train him!""Proper! Who says it isna proper? I'llnot be accused of favoritism by an impudent his"Favoritism!" She laughed angrily."I'll bet you demanded three times as much from Peteras you did from anyone else! Favoritism! Othersmight accuse you of that, but your family knowsbetter!""'Tis for the family that I arranged to teach him!I didna want him to be ill-taught his"Is that why you won't tell me what happened?Did you push him beyond his abilities? Did you puthim where he shouldn't have been?""None o" the bairns should ha' been where theywere," he said so sadly that Dannan felt atwinge of pity through her grief. "They were all pushedbeyond their abilities.""By Admiral James Kirk," Dannan saidbitterly, softly. "Admiral Kirk, who his"I willna tolerate slander!""I'm not saying anything everybody else hasn'tbeen saying for days," Dannan said. "Thelast two times heThe Search For Spockgot his hands on the Enterprise, the captainsdied. First Decker, now Spock. If I hadcommand of a ship I wouldn't let him within a light-yearof it!""Ye dinna know anything about the situations! Andye'll never get wi'in a light-year of command ifany friend o' the admiral hears ye speaking like that!""Or if you have anything to say about it?"was "Twillna take a report from me for thysuperiors to see ye are too hotheaded for command."What happened to the truce? Dannan thought.Did I start this? I didn't intend to, if Idid."All I wanted to know was what reallyhappened to my brother," she said.Uncle Montgomery stood up, stalked out into theyard, and would not speak to her again.Later that morning, Dannan endured thememorial for Peter. She barely listened to it.Today was the first time in years that she had been in achurch. She sat next to her mother, holding her hand.The pastor described Peter as anobedient and dutiful little boy a boring creature, notvery similar to what he had been as a child, and nothing atall like the sharp and independent young man he had beenwell on his way tobecoming. Dannan wanted to jump up and push theclergyman aside and read everyone her last letter fromPeter, written just before he died, received after sheknew he had been killed. She smiled, thinking of thepractical joke he had played on AdmiralKirk. That took nerve, it did, to face down ageneral of ficer.The last line in his letter was, "LieutenantSaavik says we are friends. I'm glad. Ithink you would like her, Love, Peter."She thought he was right. She hoped she had a chanceto meet Saavik someday, face to face.STAR TREK 111The eulogy ended. Everyone rose and filed out to thechurchyard. The raw pit of Peter's grave gapedopen in the hard, cold autumn ground. A fewdead leaves scattered past, rustling againstDannan's boots. They came from the oak grovethat encircled the top of the low hill behind the church. Thegrove was sacred, or haunted, orcursed, depending on whom one asked about it.Dannan remembered winter nights long ago infront of the fireplace, and summer nights around acampfire, telling deliciously scary storiesabout the creatures and spirits who lived among and within thetrees.In the oak grove, a dark shape moved.Dannan started.It was nothing. Just the wind, shaking a young tree (butthere were no young trees in the grove, only ancientones that did not quiver in the wind), or adust-devil (but weather like today's never produceddust-devils). Who would hide up in the grove?Who would come to a funeral and fear to attend it? Whowould prefer the solitarystrangeness of the grove to the company of friends?At the side of the grave, Dannan's mother bentdown, picked up a handful of the cold, stony earth,and scattered it gently onto the coffin of her youngestchild. Dannan followed, but she clenched her hand aroundthe dirt until the sharp stones cut into her hand. Sheflung it violently into the grave. The rocksclattered hollowly on the polished wood. The othermourners looked up, startled by her lack ofpropriety.She did not give a good god's damn forpropriety. She wanted to bring her brotherback, or she wanted to take revenge on therenegade who had killed him, or she wantedto punch out her uncle's lights. These were all thingsshe could not do.The Search For SpockTears flowing freely, Uncle Montgomeryscooped up a handful of dirt and dropped itinto Peter's grave. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. . ."."To fully understand the events on which I report,"James T. Kirk said, "it is necessary to review thetheoretical data on the Genesis device."Kruge leaned back in the command chair, contentedlyrubbing Warrigul's ears as he contemplated hisprize. The image of Admiral James Kirkdissolved into the simulateddemonstration of the Genesis device.The translator changed the words from the standardlanguage of the Federation of Planets into Kruge'sdialect of the high tongue of the Klingon Empire."Genesis is a procedure by which themolecular structure of matter is broken down,not into subatomic parts as in nuclear fission, oreven into elementary particles, but into subelementaryparticle-waves."The torpedo arced through space and landed on thesurface of a barren world. The rocky surfaceexploded into inferno. The planet quivered, then, justperceptibly, it expanded. For an instant it glowedas intensely as a star. The fire died, leaving thedead stone transformed into water and air and fertilesoil.Kruge casually transferred his attention to hisofficers, Maltz and Torg. A few minutesbefore, alone in his cabin, he had watched the recordingthat Valkris sacrificed her life to acquire.Now, playing it again for his two subordinates, hewas more interested in observing their reaction to thepresentation."The results are completely under our control.In this simulation, a barren rock becomes a world withwater, atmosphere, and a functioning ecosystemcapable of sustaining most known forms of carbon-basedlife."Torg watched intently, all his attention on thescreen.STAR TREK 111The young officer was in a state of highexcitement, indifferent to any potential danger.Maltz gazed at the screen with wonder andadmiration.The human narrating the tape thanked herlisteners. Kruge smiled to himself at that, wonderingwhat she would say to this audience. He made the tapepause."So!" he said. He looked at Torg."Speak!""Great power!" Torg said eagerly. "To control,to dominate, to destroy." He scowled. "If itworks."Kruge made no response. He scratchedWarrigul beneath the scaly jaw. The creaturepressed up against his leg, whining, sensing the tension andexcitement.Kruge turned his ominous gaze on Maltz."Speak!""Impressive," Maltz said thoughtfully. "Theycan make planets. Possibilities are endless.Colonies, resources his"Yes," Kruge said gently. Henoticed with satisfaction Maltz's chagrin at histone, and his surprise. "New cities, homes inthe country, your mate at your side, children playing atyour feet . . ." As Kruge's voice grew moreand moresarcastic, Maltz's expression changed from oneof satisfaction to one of apprehension. "dis . . Andoverhead, fluttering in the breeze the flag of theFederation of Planets!" He fairly growled thelast few words, and Warrigul snarled in support."Oh, charming!" Kruge said. He sneered atMaltz. "Station!""Yes, my lord," Maltz said quickly, knowingbetter than to try to defend himself when he had socompletely lost his ground. He hurried to his postand made himself very inconspicuous.Kruge regarded Torg. "It works. Oh,yes, it works." He touched the controls of the playerto let the tape continue."It was this premature detonation of the GenesisThe Search For Spockdevice that resulted in the creation of the Genesisplanet." On the screen, a constellation-classFederation starship fled the expanding wave thatturned the dust and gases of a nebula into a mass ofenergy and subelementary particles, thence into a bluenew world.Kruge turned off the machine, removed theinformation insert, and slipped it beneath his belt."Tell this to no one," he said to Torg. Heglanced significantly across the control room atMaltz."Understood, my lord.""We are going to this planet," Kruge said."Even as our emissaries negotiate for peace with theFederation, we will act for the preservation of our people. Wewill seize the secret of thisweapon the secret of ultimate power!"Torg nodded, nearly overwhelmed by themagnitude of what he had seen. "Success,"he whispered. "Success, my lord.""Station!""Yes, my lord!"Torg returned to his position. AtKruge's side, Warrigul whined and slavered,reacting to the emotions of its master. Krugedropped to one knee to soothe the creature."My lord," said the helm officer, speakingcarefully in the tongue of subordinates."We are approaching Federation territory.""Steady on course," Kruge snapped, easinghis impatient first stratum with a second stratum ofapproval. "Engage cloaking device.""Cloaking device engaged."From within the ship, it was a most odd and satisfyingsensation. The ship and all its contents and all itsoccupants became slightly transparent.Voices grew hollow, like echoes.Warrigul howled in protest. LowersubordinatesSTAR TREK Inshuddered at the keening cry, knowing that the doakingdevice put the creature's temper on a thinedge. It had a similar effect on people. Once ina while it would, without warning, drive someone mad.But this time everyone survived the transition sane.Kruge smiled andstroked tilde his beast, satisfied in the knowledge thatoutside the cloaking field, his ship was completelyinvisible.Chapter 6Saavik stepped onto the transporterplatfomm beside David."Transporter room," Captain Esteban saidthrough the intercom. "Stand by to energise.""Transporter room standing by.""Energize. hisThe beam caught Saavik up and dissolved her.A moment later it reassembled her, atom by atom,on the surface of the world David had helpedto create.From her point of view, the world solidified aroundher. She had no real sensation of being tom asunder andput back together. Throughout the entire process shecould feel sensations from her body, feel the weightof the backpack on her shoulders, hear and see andthink.The Genesis world lay wreathed in silver haze.Great primordial fern-trees reached into the airthen drooped down again with the weight of their own leaves.TheSTAR TREK Illfronds had captured miniature pools ofglittering rainwater.David appeared beside her and looked around withwonder."It really is something, isn't it?" he said."It is indeed," Saavik said. She took hertricorder from her belt and turned it on. Daviddid likewise. The bio readings were what she hadexpected, similar to the long-range scans. Theanimate life signals matched nothing she had everseen before, but they definitely existed.David set off through the forest as Saavikswitched the emphasis on her tricorder andscanned again. She raised one eyebrow inastonishment."This is most odd, David," she said.He glanced impatiently back.She frowned and took out her communicator."Saavik to Grissom.""Grissom here.""Request computer study of soil samples forgeological aging.""I'll handle that later," David said.Saavik wondered why his voice was so sharp andtense. She, too, was anxious to proceed, but not to thepoint of recklessness."My readings indicate great instability.""We're not here to investigate geologicalaging, we're here to find life forms!" Hescanned around with his tricorder. The signalschanged and strengthened. "Come on!" He hurried offbetween the trees.Saavik felt an intense uneasiness, but shefollowed David."Grissom to landing party." Even through thecommunicator, Saavik could hear the worry inCaptain Esteban's voice. "We show youapproaching indications of radioactivity. Do youconcur?"The Search For Spock"Affirmative, Captain. But our readings arewell below the danger level.""Very well. Exercise caution, Lieutenant.This landing is 'captain's discretion." I'm the onewho's out on a limb here."Saavik stood in the midst of a profoundlyunknown world and replied, straight-faced, "I willtry to remember that, Captain."She strode after David, who had hurriedseveral hundred meters ahead of her. He pausedto take readings, and she caught up to him. Hertricorder showed strange and fluctuatinglife-signs. She flipped the settingquickly from bio to geo and tilde got the samedisturbing readings ofinstability. At the very least this area would be proneto severe earthquakes.Reluctantly Saavik changed the sensor again.The metallic mass she had detected from onboard Grissom lay very near. She glanced in thedirection of the reading. Before her the trees thinned outinto a blaze of sun. The air was very warm and veryhumid. Saavik could not see beyond the sun'sdazzle in the steamy haze.She walked toward the source of the readings. Beforeher, just out of sight, lay a casket that held thebody of her teacher. She did not need to see it to becertain he was dead. Because now, she was certain. Herspeculations in response to the life-sign readings-had been fantasies, dreams, wishes. She feltnothing of the neural touch that had disturbed her sodeeply back on theEnterprise. If Spock were nearby, if by someincredible action of the Genesis wave, or someunsuspected ability of the Vulcan-humancross, he had returned, Saavik would perceivehim. Of that she felt quite sure.David pushed his way through the thickfronds of the fern-trees and into the glade beyond. Thesunlight burst upon him and he stood still, blinking.SlAR TREK illSaavik moved more slowly out of the green shade,giving her eyes the few seconds they neededto adapt."It is Spock's tube!" David said. Hesquinted at it, trying to screen out the light."David . . ." She pointed to the base of thetube.A mass of pale, moist worms writhed andwriggled in the shadow of the casket. A few fell fromthe cluster into the sunlight and frantically burrowedinto the dark loam.His eyes now accustomed to the brightness, Davidsaw what she was pointing at. He took one steptoward the slimy creatures and stopped. A musclealong the side of his jaw tightened, and he swallowedhard.- "Well," he said bitterly. "There's ourlife-form reading. It must have been microbes, caught on thesurfaceof the tube. We shot them here from theEnterprise. was His voice was tinged with irony anddisappointment. "They were fruitful, and multiplied."He looked around the otherwise peaceful glade."Probably contaminated the whole planet."Saavik could think of several other explanationsfor the presence of the worms, but as the casket appearedstill to be sealed, she hoped David's explanation wascorrect."But how could they have changed so quickly . . . hisDid you program accelerated evolutioninto-Genesis?" Perhaps the creatures were far morecomplicated than they appeared at first glance. Shefocussed her tricorder on them, but could notreproduce the reading that had brought her here;David approached the torpedo tube. Histricorder bleated and clicked, registering theincreased radiation flux and confirming the torpedotube as the source. Nevertheless, the level was wellbelow the danger point.David grimaced, then forged ahead, kicking hiswayThe Search For Spockthrough the worms. Saavik followed until sherealized what he intended to do. Shestopped, unwilling to see again the-terrible burns onSpock's sculpted face, preferring not to considerthe effects of climate.She started despite herself when David slowlyraised the lid of the bier. He stared down into thecasket."Saavik . . ."Pushing a path through the worms with her boots,Saavik Joined him."dis . . He's gone," David said. He reachedinto the empty coffin and drew out the black shroud."What is it?" he asked.She took the silvery, silky piece of heavyblack fabric from his hands."It is Spock's burial robe," she said,her voice even, but her thoughts in disarray.Saavik heard a low, threatening rumble. Theground shook gently beneath her feet. Merely atemblor, not a true quake, but a precursorto and a promise of events more violent.As the quivering of the earth faded away, a frightenedcry echoed through the forest. A mammal? Apredatory bird? A creature unique to this world?David spun toward the sound, that lonely shriek ofpain, then, when the echoes had faded and thecry came no more, he looked back at Saavik.She felt sure he was thinking, as was she Nohighly evolved microbe screamed that scream.Dannan fidgeted on the sofa in the livingroom. It was early evening, and beginning to grow darkoutside. The day seemed to have stretched on forever.- Uncle Montgomery sat on the other sideof the room, in silence and in shadows.Dannan's mother had vanished back into herstudio. Everyone in the family knew better thanto disturb her 135STAR TREK 111when the door was closed. That was one of the thingsPeter's father had never been able to get through his head;it was the final bit of selfishness Dannan's mothercould not tolerate. Dannan returned from schoolonce to find, rather to her relief, that the elderPreston had packed up his things and departed,muttering about eccentric artists and heading for he said aFederation colony, on the first available ship.Dannan had smiled to hear that, for if he thought anartist who did not like to be interrupted when she was workingwas eccentric, wait until he met the people whoshipped out to colonies. He had not been a badperson, just a self-involved one who shouldperhaps never have tried to join a family. Dannanwondered if anyone knew where he was, to let himknow about Peter.Dannan rose, crossed the living room, andtook in one stride the three steps up to the foyer.She slipped into her boots and went out the frontdoor, into the village. She made her way down thesteep cobbled street to the river's edge, thence through thetown and back to the churchyard, the cemetery, and the oldoak grove.The evening was extraordinary. In the west, the sunlined the horizon from below in a thick ochre gold.The color shaded upward into a soft, intense, andglowing mauve. Dannan could not describe the skyin terms of clear spectral colors, only inmixes and delicate hues. What color did onename the region where the sky shaded from predominantlygold to predominantly violet? She could notanswer. In the east, the enormous blood-redharvest moon began to glide above the horizon. Thejust-set sun and the just-risen full moon combinedto create a lavender twilight.Tonight was the autumn equinox. Dannan spentmost of her life on starships, where every day was thesame 136The Search For Spocklength and one counted one's time by theartificial measurement of star dates. When shecame home, to a place where seasons still mattered andtime was more subjective, she experienced the days andnights and dawns and evenings, the colors and sounds andscents, as a brand new discovery.Twilight remained when she reached thegraveyard, though the livid gold horizon hadfaded and the sky had changed from lavender to deepblue. Stars glinted here and there, bright and steady in thecold, still air. They were never as clear as they were inspace. She was glad Peter had at least had achance to see them from above the atmosphere.Dannan sat on her heels by Peter'sgrave. Beneath the flowers that lay thick and fragrantupon it, the raw earth smelled of rocks and rippedturf. She could make out his name, and the summation of theshort years of his life, carved into grey granite.He lay among ten previous generations of hisfamily, the first of his generation to die. Because of thefamily's tradition of taking the name of one's parentof the same gender, her brother was the only Prestonamong many Scotts, more Stuarts, a scatter ofMacLaughlins, and one Ishimoto, agreat-uncle Dannan remembered with greatfondness.She wished she had some memento of space to leaveon Peter's grave, some alien bloom to put downto remind everyone that he had dreamed of and sought after andloved the stars.As the moon rose higher, Dannan saw a hardglint among the flowers littering Peter's grave.She reached between the soft petals and picked up thebit of gold. It was a medal, the star of valor, withruby. She wondered for an instant if it werePeter's, if her mother or her uncle had put ithere, but in the same instant she recognised it as thewrong form for a posthumousSTAR TREK lllmedal. It was not engraved with name or place, so ithad not yet been formally presented. It had to belongto one of Peter's classmates.A sound broke the silence that lay easily overthe graveyard.At first Dannan identified the noise as adog, a lost puppy. She stood up and waitedto hear it again.It came from the oak grove.Dannan strode toward the trees. Fallenleaves crunched beneath her boots. All the scarychildhood stories about ghosts and changelings passedthrough her mind, though she knew the sound came from someonewho was merely flesh and blood.Besides, she thought, I'm a Starfleet officer,remember? With citations for bravery of my own.Big deal.She heard the sound again a sob."Come on out," she said.The usual silence of the grove was one of calm.This was the breathless quiet of concealment andapprehension."Come on," Dannan said. "It's cold outhere."The young man scuffed out of the trees, the red coatof his uniform black in the moonlight. He stoppedbefore her, hanging his head."Who are you?""One of Peter's shipmates."He was several years older than Peter; he musthave been a third or fourth year student, whilePeter was only first."Is this your medal?""Yes.""Why?"He still did not look up."I thought Peter deserved it more than I did."The Search For Spock"Because he's dead and you're alive?" Dannan wasabout to tell him how brutally often the difference camedown to nothing but chance."No!" he said before she could continue. "No!"He hung his head lower, if that were possible. Hisvoice was muffled and reluctant. "Because he stayed. . . and I ran."Dannan stepped toward him with a flare of shock andsurprise and anger. She wanted, quite simply,to kill him. She was perfectly capable of doing it withher bare hands.But then the boy did-raise his head, as if baringhis throat to accept her revenge. He made nomove to defend himself. The utter defeat was all thatsaved him.She understood why he had lurked in the groveduring the funeral, and why he had not shown himself. Shedid not understand why he was still here."Get out of here," she said. "Why don't you just gohome?"His shoulders slumped. "I can't," he said."I'm AWOL, for one thing . . . and I used upall my money getting here. I don't know howto get back.""That shows great foresight," Dannan said. "Isthat what they teach you at the Academy these days?"She sighed. "You'd better come with me."Dannan took Grenni back to her mother'shouse, wondering what the devil to do with him.Uncle Montgomery had not moved from his placein the corner when Dannan returned, and the door to thepottery studio still was closed."I believe you know this gentleman," Dannansaid sarcastically to her uncle as Grenni followedher into the living room. "He came . . . forPeter's funeral."Uncle Montgomery greeted Grenni with everyindication of pleasure and gratitude for his presence.STAR TREK 111""Tis good o" ye to come pay thy respectsto our bairn his"Stop it!" Grenni cried. "Why do you keepbeing so nice to me? You know where my stationwas you must know Pres is dead because ofme!"Scott stared at him."You know he was the only one in our section whoheld his post! I was cadet commander, I should haveordered him out of danger!""He'd no' ha' gone," Scott said."Then neither should I. his"Perhaps not," Scott said. "Then we would have twofunerals to attend today, instead o' one." He roseand approached the boy, took him by the shoulders, andlooked him in the eye. "Dinna get me wrong,boy. Ye did a cowardly thing. Now ye mustdecide if ye are fit for the career ye've chosen.If this is thy character his"It isn't!" Grenni said. "I don't knowwhat happened I don't understand why it happened. Inever did anything like that before in my life!"Montgomery Scott nodded. "Ye hadna beenproperly prepared for what we faced. "Tis atleast as much my fault.""Are you saying you forgive me?""Aye."Grenni looked at Dannan. "Do you forgiveme too, Commander?""Not bloody likely," Dannan said.Her uncle and the cadet both looked at her,shocked."Dannan was her uncle said, raising his voicein protest."But I'm sorry!" Grenni cried. "Ididn't mean it! If I could make it up his"Make it up? Make up for the death of mybrother?" Her voice was cold with contempt. "Idon't think so."The Search For Spock"I know there's nothing I can do, that's what makesit so awful his"Ye dinna want to be vengeful, Dannan,"her uncle said."No," she said, surprised to find that vengeance wasnot what she wanted. "You're right, uncle. But soare you, cadet. There's nothing you can do...."Uncle Montgomery stood up angrily."Yealways were a cold-hearted little his"dis . . and that's what makes it so hard,"Dannan said.Her uncle put his arm over the boy's shoulders."Come along, cadet. 'Tis time to gohome." He sent one quick glare at Dannan."Tell thy mother farewell, I canna wait anylonger for her to come out."He and Grenni left the house. A moment laterDannan heard the electric sparkle of atransporter beam. The window next to the frontdoor glowed briefly, and then turned dark again.Jim Kirk stared out the window of hisapartment at the night and at the bridges on thebay, lines of light leading out of and into an infinity offog. Reflections overlaid the distant city.Jim turned to them and raised his glass."To absent friends," he said.Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu raised theirglasses in response. They all drank."Admiral, is it certain?" Hikaru said."What's going to happen to the Enterprise 7""Yes," he said. "It's to be decommissioned.""Will we get another ship?" Pavel said.We? Jim thought. Is there a "we" anymore?The ship to be dismantled" the crew dispersed,McCoy in shock and doped to the gills, and . . .Spock dead.STAR TREK lll"I can't get an answer," he said."Starfleet is up to its brass in galacticconference. No one has time for those who only stand . .. and wait.""How is Dr. McCoy, sir?" Uhura said."That's the "good" news," Jim said dryly."He's home in bed, full of tranquilizers.He promised me he'd stay there. They say it'sexhaustion." He sighed. "We'll see."His doorbell chimed."Ah," Jim said. "It must be Mr. Scott,fresh from the world of kanswarp drive. Come!"The door responded to his voice and whirredopen.Expecting Scott, Jim started at the sightof a much taller figure standing cloaked and hooded ina Vulcan robe, half hidden by the shadows in hisfoyer. Jim felt panic brush against him, bringingthe fear of madness. He thought for an instant that, likeLeonard McCoy, he was beginning to perceive the ghostof Spock in every patch of darkness, in dreams andwakefulness alike.The figure reached up and drew back its hood."Sarek!" Jim exclaimed.Ambassador Sarek strode into thelight. He looked as he did the first time Jim hadmet him, well over a decade before. He had notaged in that time. He would by now, Jim reflected, benearly one hundred twenty years old. Helooked like a vigorous man of middle age, which, ofcourse, was precisely what he was. But aVulcan of middle age, not a human being. Hehad many years left to look forward to, just asSpock, his son, should have had over a century."Ambassador," Jim said, feeling flustered,"I I had no idea you were on Earth . . ." Hiswords trailed off. Sarek said nothing. "You know myofficers, I believe," Kirk said.Sarek showed no inclination to acknowledge theThe Search For Spockothers. He moved to the window and stared out, his backto the room."I will speak with you alone, Kirk," he said.Kirk turned toward his friends. They regarded himwith questioning expressions, each clearly uneasy aboutleaving him alone in Sarek's intimidating presence."Uhura, Pavel, Hikaru perhaps we'd betterget together again another evening." Kirk put into histone a confidence of which he was far from certain.With a gesture he silenced Pavel's hotheadedobjec tion before it started; he shook Hikaru's hand,appreciating his equanimity, and he returnedUhura's embrace as he showed his threecompatriots to the door."We're here," she said, "when you need us.""I know," he said. "And I'm grateful."He let them out, watched the door close behindthem, and turned back to Sarek with considerableapprehension.Sarek remained at the window, silhouettedblack against black. Kirk approached him. Hestopped a pace behind him, and the silence stretched on."How . . . is Amanda, sir?" Kirk asked.- "She is a human being, Kirk.Consequently, she is in mourning for our son. Sheis on Vulcan.""Sarek, I'm bound here to testify, or I wouldhave come to Vulcan, to express my deepestsympathies. To her, and to you hisSarek cut off Kirk's explanation and hissympathy with a peremptory gesture. "Spare meyour platitudes, Kirk. I have been to yourgovernment. I have seen the Genesis information, and yourown report.""Then you know how bravely your son met hisdeath."""Met his death"?" Sarek faced Kirk, and thecold expressionlessness of his eyes was more powerful thanSTAR TREK 111any gAefor fury. "How could you, who claimto be his fAend, assume that? Why did you not banghim back to Vulcan?""Because he asked me not to!" Kirk said, risingto the provocation."He asked you not to? I find that unlikely inthe extreme."Sarek stopped just short of calling Kirk aliar, which did not serve to improve the admiral'stemper., "His will states quite clearly that he did notwish to be resumed to Vulcan, should he die in theservice of Starfleet. You can view it I'll evengive you his sepal number.""I am aware of his sepal number," Sarek saidwith contempt. "I am also aware that Starfleetregulations specifically require that anyVulcan's body be resumed to the home world.Surely this would override the dictatesof a will.""The trivial personal wishes of anindividual?" Kirk did not give Sarek a chanceto reply to his barb. "I'll tell you why Ifollowed Spock's request rather than the rules ofStarfleet," he said bitterly. "It's because in allthe years I knew Spock, never once did you orany Vulcan treat him with the respect and the regardthat he deserved. You never even treated him with thesimple courtesy one sentient being owes another.He spent his life living up to Vulcan ideals andhe came a whole hell of a lot closer to succeedingthan a lot of Vulcans I've met. But hemade one choice of his own Starfleet instead of theVulcanAcademy and you cut him off!"He stopped to catch his breath."My son and I resolved our disagreement on thatsubject many years ago, Kirk," Sarek saidmildly.Kirk ignored the overture. "For nearlytwenty years I watched him endure the slights and thesubtle bigotry 144The Search For Spockof Vulcans! When he died, I wasdamned if I would take him back to Vulcan andgive him over to you so you could put him in the ground andwash your hands of him! He deserved a hero'sburial and that's what I gave him the fires ofspace!" He stopped, his anger burned to ashes,yet he thought, And I can think of a few dogs Iwould have liked to put at his feet.Sarek behaved as if Kirk's outburst had neveroccurred, as if he believed that by refusingto acknowledge it, he caused it not to exist."Why did you leave him behind? Spock trusted you.You denied him his future."Jim felt entirely off balance and defensive.He had no idea what Sarek was talking about. IfKirk had hoped to accomplish anything by exposingto Sarek the anger he had built up over the years,he had failed, miserably, spectacularly,completely."I I saw no future!""You missed the point, then and now. Only hisbody was in death, Kirk. And you were the last one to bewith him.""Yes, I was. . ." My gods, Jimthought, is Sarek trying to tell me that if I hadbehaveddifferently Spock might still be alive?"Then you must have known that you should have come with him backto Vulcan.""But why?""Because he asked you to! He entrusted you with . .. with his very essence, with everything that was not of his body.He asked you to bring him to us, and to bring that which hegave you, his katra, his living spirit."Sarek spoke with intensity and urgency that servedmerely to disguise, not to hide, his deep pain and hisloss. Jim had received the response he intendedto provoke. He wished he had been gentler.STAR TREK 111"Sir," he said quietly, "your son meant moreto me than you can know. I'd have given my life if itwould have saved his. You must believe me when Itell you he made no request of me." If there wasa chance for him to live, Kirk cried out in his mind,why didn't Spock ask me for help?"He would not have spoken of it openly.""Then, how hisSarek cut him off. "Kirk, I must have yourthoughts."Jim frowned."May I join your mind, Kirk?"Jim hesitated, for the Vulcan mind-meld was notthe most pleasant of experiences. The humanperception was trivial, Vulcans claimed, comparedto the discomfort Vulcans underwent in order to mingle theirrefined psyches with the disorganised thought processesof human beings. It was clear, however, that Sarekneeded information that Jim did not possess in his ownconscious mind. Acceding to the mind-meld was the one thingJim could do, perhaps the only thing, that might giveSarek some peace."Of course," he said.Sarek approached him and placed his hands onJim's face, the long forefingers probing at histemples. His gaze never met Kirk's. Heseemed to be looking straight through him. Kirkclosed his eyes, but Sarek's image remained.The sensation was as if Sarek's slender, powerfulhands reached straight into his brain.Kirk travelled back through time. The recentmessage from Grissom brought a strong resonance ofhope from Sarek My son's body may yetexist perhaps there is still time! Time to save him for theHall of Ancient Thought....And James Kirk understood that even ifSarek foundThe Search For Spockwhat he sought, Spock was lost to the world he hadlived in. Only a few individuals, trained foryears in Vulcan philosophic discipline, couldcommunicate with the presences that existed in the Hall ofAncient Thought. If Sarek found what he waslooking for, he would give Spock a chance atimmortality . . . but not another chance at life.Sarek's powerful mind forced Jim farther back intime. Jim's memories of Spock's death, which hadbarely begun to ease, returned with the cruel clarityof dream."He spoke of your friendship."Jim could not tell if Sarek uttered words orcommunicated through the mental link. Likewise hecould not be sure if he himself replied aloud, or insilence."Yes . . .""He asked you not to grieve . . .""Yes . . .""The needs of the many outweigh . . .""dis . . the needs of the few his"Or the one."The image of Sarek faded from Jim's mind.Spock appeared, horribly burned and dying."Spock . . ." Jim said."I have been . . . and always shall be . . . yourfriend," Spock said. "Live long . . . andprosper.""No!" Jim shouted, as if by force of will he couldtwist the dictates of the universe and mortalityto his wishes.The illusion drained away like a spent wave,leaving Jim soaked and shaken. He experienced onelast, hopeless thought from Sarek What I thoughtdestroyed, my son's body, is found; but his soulis irrevocably lost.He broke the contact between them.Jim's knees buckled. Sarek caught andsupported 147STAR TREK Illhim. Jim pressed the heels of his hands against hisclosed eyes, trying to drive back the sharpenedmemones."Forgive me," Sarek said. "It is not here. Iassumed he had melded his mind with yours. It is theVulcan way, when the body's end is near.""But he couldn't touch me! We wereseparated!""Yes," Sarek said. "I see, and I understand."He turned away, weariness even age apparent inthe set of his shoulders. "Everything that he was,everything that he knew, is lost. I must returnto Vulcan, emptyhanded. I will join Amanda. Wewill mourn our son. We will mourn for the loss of hislife, we will mourn for the loss of his soul."Without a word of farewell, he started toward thedoor. tilde"Wait!" Kirk cried. "Please . . .wait." Like a man trying to scale a crumblingcliff he clutched at fragile branches, and theypulled loose from the rock. "Sarek, surely hewould have found a way! If there were so much at stake,Spock would have found a way!"Sarek strode toward the door and Kirk fearedhe would sweep out of the room without abackward glance, hinting at possibilities,abandoning them.Sarek slowed, hesitated, turned. "What areyou saying, Kirk?""What if he melded his mind with someone else?"Chapter 7The flight recorder from the Enterprise lay underseal and under guard. Even Admiral James T.Kirk had to do some fast talking and some throwing of hisauthority to see it, much less to bring in an outsideobserver. Though Sarek knew all there was for anydiplomat to know about Genesis and about the lastvoyage of theEnterprise, whoever had cleared him for thosereports had not thought to include the flightrecorder. This caused what seemed to Kirk like anendless delay. However esteemed Sarek might be within the Federation, he was not a member of Starfleet.Then, when the ambassador finally received specialclearance to view the data, Kirk was absolutelyrefused permission to transmit the recording anywhereoutside the records storage center. He andSarek had to go to it.Kirk arrived at the center chafing under the limitaSTAR TREK Illlions of surface travel. He found itincredibly frustratin g to be forced actuallyto traverse the distance from one point to another, rather thanto have a convenient transporter beam at his beck andcall.Finally all the distance had been covered, all thepermissions had been granted, all the forms had beensigned and sealed and retina-printed, and he and Sarekentered a viewing cubicle that would display data from theEnterprise's flight recorder.Ordinarily the recorder would lie essentiallysuppressed, quiescently tracking only theroutine mechanical functions of the ship. An alertincreased its powers of observation and set it to making apermanent record of the ship's crucial areas. Theengine room monitor had watched Khan'sattack and Spock's last moments of life.Jim Kirk had already relived Spock's deathonce today, in an all too realistic fashion.He wondered, as he keyed into the player the stardate he wished to observe, why he had fought so hardto be permitted to see it again. He could leave Sarekalone with it and let the Vulcan make of it what hewould. But in the end Kirk could not abandon hisresponsibilities to Spock or if hissuspicions proved true to McCoy."Engine room, flight recorder, visual," thecomputer voice announced. "Star date 8128point seven eight." It froze at the decimalhe had chosen. "Point seven eight . .. point seven eight . . .".On the screen, Spock lay dying against theglass of the radiation enclosure, frozen in time."Back!" Kirk snapped. "Point sevenseven."The random access search skipped to the last wordsbetween James Kirk and Spock."Back! Point six seven.""Flight recorder, visual. Star date8128 point sixThe Sparch For Spockseven, point six seven was The tape had reachedthe point before Kirk left the bridge, before Spockentered the radiation chamber, a time when the Enterprisewas still in imminent danger of being caught up in KhanSingh's detonation of the Genesis device. Spockwas poised infreeze-frame at the radiation chamber controlconsole."G. hisSpock's image flowed into life. McCoyentered the picture, intercepting Spock before hereached the chamber. They argued in eerie silence.Spock guided McCoy's attentiontoward Mr. Scott, who lay halfconscious onthe floor. As soon as McCoy turned his back,Spock felled him with a nerve pinch.And then . . . Spock knelt down and pressedhis hand to Dr. McCoy's temple. Spock'slips formed the silent word"Remember.""Hold," Kirk said. The image froze."Augment and repeat." The scene scrolledsmoothly back. The central image expanded."Audio," Kirk said.Spock guided McCoy's attention towardMr. Scott, who lay halfconscious on thefloor. As soon as McCoy turned his back,Spock felled him with a nerve pinch.Spock knelt down and pressed his hand to Dr.McCoy's temple."Remember!" Spock said."Freeze!" Kirk said. He struggled againsthope and excitement to retain his composure."Bones'. . ." Kirk said softly. All thedoctor's tortured behavior, his confusion"One alive, one not," Sarek said. "Yet bothin pain.""One going mad from pain!" Kirk said."Why why did Spock leave the wronginstructions?""Do you recall the precise words, Kirk?"Sarek 151STAR TREK Illcocked his eyebrow at Kirk and saw that he didnot. He repeated a phrase from Spock's will as hehad plucked it from Kirk's mind. ""Failing asubsequent revision of this document, my remainsare not to be returned to Vulcan ?"' He paused."Spock did not . . . did not believe that hisunusual heritage would permit the transfer of hiskatra. He did leave the possibility open.""But he never made a revision. He leftonly hiswas The good Dr. McCoy," Sarek said. "Who,if the process had worked properly, would have knownwhat to do. Perhaps Spock was correct. Perhaps he wasunable to transfer . . .""He transferred something! And it's drivingMcCoy insane!""Had Dr. McCoy ever experienced themind-meld before?""A couple of times, in emergencies.""How did he react?""He didn't like it. To put it mildly."Sarek raised his eyebrow again but forbore to remarkupon the comment. "Did he becomephysically ill, afterwards?""I don't know. He wouldn't necessarily havesaid so if he did.""He is undergoing an allergic reaction."I"What"...'9"It is unusual, but not unprecedented.McCoy's mind is rejecting what Spock gaveto him."Kirk fought an impulse to laugh. He lost."You find this amusing?" Sarek said stiffly."No yes, I'm sorry, Sarek, I can'thelp it. McCoy would find it hilarious, if hewere in any shape to appreciate it. Come to think ofit, Spock would, too.""I find that highly unlikely," Sarek said."Since the result is that McCoy was unableto assimilate the newThe Search For Spockinformation even so far as to rescind the provision ofSpock's will that may now destroy both of them."He shook his head. "It would have beenbetter if Spock had been near another Vulcanwhen he died. He did not prepare well, Kirk.He left too many factors open to chance his"This is hardly the time to criticise Spock!"Kirk said angrily. "Or to deploreMurphy's Law, for that matter.""What is "Murphy's Law"?"""Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong."""How apropos.""What do we do to make things right?""It may already be too late.""Sarek to wasSarek gazed at the frozen screen in silence."The fact that Dr. McCoy retains even asemblance of sanity gives me some cause forhope. You are fortunate that you failed in your planto burn my son like a barbarian chieftain. Had itsucceeded, McCoy would surely be lost to us by now.The mind and the body are not a duality, they are partsof a whole. If one is destroyed, the other mustdisintegrate. If they are separated . . . thegreater the distance, the greater the strain, until itbecomes intolerable.""The strain on McCoy, you mean.""Precisely.""What must I do?""You must recover Spock's body from theGenesis world," Sarek said. "You must bring it, andDr. McCoy, to Mount Seleya, on Vulcan.Only there is the passage possible. Only there canboth find peace.""What you ask," Kirk said, "is difficult.""You will find a way, Kirk. If you honor themboth, you must."STAR TREK 111Kirk glanced again at the frozen image of histwo closest friends."I will," he said. "I swear it."Even before Jim Kirk and Sarek had left therecords storage center, the questions the ambassadorhad left unanswered began to trouble Jim."Sarek," he said, "if I succeed in what youask . . . will Spock know? I mean will he beaware of himself? Will he retain his individuality?""He will not be as you knew him," Sarek said."I understand that!" Kirk said The lessons of themind-meld remained fresh in his consciousness. "Thatwasn't my question.""Your question is one that cannot be answered in afew simple words, Kirk. There is no time his"I'll take the time!"Sarek regarded him coolly. "Will you take tenyears of your life? First you must learn to speakVulcan, and then you must dedicate yourself to study. Inten years you might approach the simplest questions of thisphilosophy . . . and the question you have asked is far fromthe simplest.""Ambassador, with all due respect thatexplanation is getting pretty stale! "I cannotanswer your question because humans are too immatureto understand. Humans are too uncivilised ?"'"I said nothing against humans. Do you forget thatSpock's mother is human? She has studied thediscipline of ancient thought these many years. Shehas earned a place among the adepts and the teachers.Granted, she is extraordinary. But even youmight reach a moderate level of comprehension his"I get the picture," Kirk said,irritated. "It still comes down to, "None of yourbusiness." Is that whatSTAR TREK 111cocked his eyebrow-at Kirk and saw that hedid not. Herepeated a phrase from Spock's will as he hadpluckedit from Kirk's mind. ""Failing a subsequentrevision ofthis document, my remains are not to be returnedtoVulcan ?"' He paused. "Spock did not .. . did not believe that his unusual heritage wouldpermit the transfer of his katra. He did leavethe possibility open.""But he never made a revision. He leftonly hiswas The good Dr. McCoy," Sarek said. "Who,if theprocess had worked properly, would have known whatto do. Perhaps Spock was correct. Perhaps he wasunable to transfer . . .". "He transferred something! And it's drivingMcCoyinsane!""Had Dr. McCoy ever experienced themind-meldbefore?""A couple of times, in emergencies.""How did he react?""He didn't like it. To put it mildly."The Search For SpockI'm supposed to say to Harry Morrow, when Iask him to bend regulations into the fourthdimension?""You must say what you think best," Sarek said,without irony.Hikaru Sulu leaned forward in his leatherarmchair. "Admiral, I his"No!" Kirk said sharply. "Don't answerme now. I want you to think it over first."The image of James Kirk faded abruptlyfrom the "phone screen.On the surface, what Kirk had asked Suluto do was not very difficult. A volunteer mission, afew days out, a few days back. But if worsecame to worst, the consequences could be grave. Kirkhad not softpedaled the most severe of thepossibilities.Kirk's intensity troubled Hikaru. It wasKirk who had first commented on the crew's obsessionwith the death of Spock, and now he himself seemedobsessed and driven. What he hoped to accomplishwas not entirely clear to Hikaru who had the definiteimpress sion that Kirk was not clear onthe details, either.But it was certain that Kirk felt responsible forSpock's death, and that h e could not accept it.Hikaru believed Kirk had taken on this missionto expiate the guilt he felt, and he understoodKirk well enough to know that he would never be free of theguilt, or of his grief, until he completed whathe had sworn to do.Cold-rain skittered against the window. Hikarusat in the dark for an hour, thrashing questions around in hismmd.He admitted to himself that he feared for JamesKirk's sanity.The house was very quiet. He shared it with four otherpeople, but tonight he was the only one home.i, 155STAR TREK 111He was, in fact, the lone member of thehousehold on Earth. Only rarely was everyonehome at the same time, but even more rarely was everyoneelse gone.I shouldn't be home, either, he thought. Dammit!He got up and went out the back door into thegarden. Without his noticing, the rain had stopped and thesky had cleared. The full moon was risenhalfway to its zenith. The wet lawn felt coldagainst his bare feet and the air wasozone-washed. In the near distance, the sea rushedagainst the shore and away.His mind chased itself around in circles. He neededto think about something else for a while, or better yetto think of nothing at all. He began to move in aho routine, bo-no-ikAyo, though his ho, hiswooden staff, was back in the house along with his gi,and the black belt and hakama he had onlyrecently earned when he passed his shodan test.Tsuki, deflect, tsuki yokomen, yokomenOver the years he had studied a number ofmartial arts. He was an excellent fencer, and hehad progressed to the first of the several degrees ofbrown belts in judo. But his interest in judo hadalways had more to do with the fact that he was learning it fromMandala Flynn (he believed she had the samefeeling about fencing, which he had taught her).Aikido was different. It was a martial artdedicated to non-violence, to demonstrating to one'sopponent the futility of violence. He had beencomtraining for some years now. The thrill of beingpromoted to shodan, of putting on for the first time theblack belt and the hakama, the long widepleated black trousers, was just as intense as what hehad felt when he received the orders giving him command ofExcelsior.Yokomen, kokushibo, sweep, reverse,thrust, dogiriUsually he could lose himself in the motions, butThe Search For Spocktonight the question he had been asked and the decision he hadstill to make remained uppermost in his mind, spoiling theflow and the peace of the routine.James Kirk planned to return to Genesis,whether he got help and the Enterprise fromStarfleet, or merely a blind eye turned when hedeparted.If he were denied permission, or expresslyforbidden to go .Suluthought of his magnificent new ship, up inspacedock, waiting for him, nearly ready to fly.That was where he should be, not down here Earthbound,waiting for debriefings, waiting to testify, waitingto find out from Starfleet whether he had kept his noseclean enough to rate being given back his command.They had no right to take it from me in the firstplace, he thought. But they did, and theymade very dear the conditions under which I might hopeto regain it.Yokomen, tsuki, yokomen, sweep and turnHe lost the rhythm and the pattern. He stopped.He . blotted the sweat from his forehead, from the sidesof his face.He weighed Excelsior against what JamesKirk had asked of him. He weighed his ambitionsagainst his allegiance; he weighed the future and thepast.He made a decision, without regret and withoutreservation.He swirled back into the routine, moving lightlyover the springy wet grass while the last fallroses perfumed the air. The pattern of his motionswas smooth and pure, the way he hoped and tried to formhis life.Saavik ran through the steamy, humid glade,pushing aside rain-laden fronds that doused her withcascades of sun-warmed water. She followed thesound of the cry, pierced to her center by its despair.The tricorder in her 157STAR TREK Illhand beeped and clicked with life-sign readings, butshe hardly glanced at it. Its data weresuperfluous.She burst from the forest. It ended so abruptly thatshe stopped. David hurried up behind her, breathinghard."Not so fast," he said between gasps. "We don'tknow what that scream was." He bent over to catch hisbreath. "It might be a predator it might be one ofVance's dragons."Saavik wondered who had designed this sectionof the landscape. Enormous cactuslike treesstretched bulbous fingers to the sky. On the rockysurface, Bray, leathery succulents spread theirthick leaves like wounded wings, soaking up the sun.The ground quivered gently beneath Saavik'sfeet. It was like a caress but the illusion shatteredwhen the pain-filled cry came again. Whatever madethat sound experienced nopleasure from the trembling land.Saavik strode forward, the gravel of the desertcrunching beneath her boots and sliding beneath her heels.The rounded, waterworn stones made the surfacetreacherous and slippery and difficult to negotiate."Was this a 'll joke"?" she said to David."What?""Waterworn stones, in a desert thathas never seen water? False history, falsegeology.""We wanted to make it seem real," Davidsaid. "Layered. Not as if everything were brand new.""In that, you certainly succeeded." The cactimight each have been a thousand years old. Thesucculents might have been left over from an earlierage, living fossils of the beginnings of evolution.She continued deeper into the forest of cacti. Thedryness was a relief after the oppressive humidityof the glade, but what glimpses she could get between theThe Search For Spockgnarled and looming trunks hinted at anotherabrupt change of climate.A hundred meters farther on, the ground wascovered with snow.The rumble of a temblor surrounded her. Shetensed and the cry came yet again. She had beenexpecting itWe hear the cry whenever the ground quakes, shethought. As if there were some direct connection.... Butshe amended her hastydeduction. She did not have enough data to draw asignificant conclusion, and besides, thecreature, the being, might simply be frightened by theearthquakes."Grissom to ground party. What's going on downthese?"Saavik stopped and flipped open hercommunicator."Saavik here, Captain. We have strong lifesign readings, bearing zero-one-five. We areproceeding to investigate.""All right; Saavik, I concur.... But beadvised that we are tracking a severe andunnatural age curve for the planet. Theharmonic motion of the core is increasing inamplitude at a rate that is making me verynervous."Saavik covered the microphone of thecommunicator. David was staring in the directionof the snow, apparently ignoring her conversation withCaptain Esteban."Do you have an explanation?""Later," he said with an intensity that belied hisoutward indifference to Esteban's information. Hegestured impatiently. "Let's go!" Withoutwaiting, he started toward the snow-covered bluffs beyondthe desert, moving away from her in moreimportant ways than simple distance.STAR TREK IllSaavik uncovered the communicator pickup."Grissom, your message acknowledged. Willadvise. Saavik out."She snapped shut the communicator andfollowed David across the desert. He had alreadypassed beyond the limits of the twisted cactus trees.A breeze ruffled his curly golden hair. With everystep he took the wind grew stronger. By the timeSaavik reached the edge of the forest, the wind had begunto swirl flakes of dry snow against David'sfeet. He was only about fifty meters ahead ofher. She stepped out of the shelter of the cacti, into thewhine of the wind. The temperature droppedprecipitously, perhaps thirty degrees in as manypaces. The wind howled past them.David reached the first patch of solid snow,stopped, and gazed down at something. Saavik joinedhim. A trail of small, blurry footprintsled from the edge of the snow and up thewhite-blanketed slope. The wind had obscuredtheir outlines. A sudden flurry of snow threatenedto bury them entirely.The sky held no clouds. The snow was notfalling; it was, rather, being carried by the wind from someother source. The icy, stinging flakes cut thevisibility to almost nothing.Saavik sat on her heels and lookedclosely at the vanishing footprints. She shookher head and rose to her feet."Those are not, I think, the tracks ofSauriforrn Madisonii," she said. Neither, though,were they the tracks she had hoped to find.In the Starfleet officers' lounge, JimKirk feigned calm as he waited for HarryMorrow's reply. Morrow stared silently out into thenight, his reflection black on black against thewide expanse of the window that stretched seamlessly fromone side of the lounge to the11 e Search For Spockother. The Starfleet commander's expressionremained unreadable. Kirk forced himself not to clench hisfists."No," Morrow said finally. "Absolutely not,Jim. It's out of the question."All the repressed tension fueledKirk's words."Harry Harry, I'm off the recordnow. I'm not speaking as a member of your staff.I'm talking about thirty years of service. I haveto do this, Harry. It has to do with my honor mylife. Everything I put any value on."He cut off his plea when a steward-stopped athis elbow with a tray, removed empty glasses,replaced them with full ones. Jim held himselfsilent. After an interminable time, the steward left."Harry his"Jim," Morrow said carefully, "you are mybest officer, and if I had a best friend, you'd be that,too. But I am Commander, Starfleet, so Idon't break rules.""Don't q uote rules, Harry! We'retalking about loyalty! And sacrifice! One manwho died for us, another at risk of dee tildepermanent emotional damage tilde his"Now, wait a minute!" Morrow said. "Thisbusiness about Spock and McCoy and mind-melds andhonestly, I have never understood Vulcanmysticism. Nor do I understand what you hopeto accomplish I'm sorry! I don't want youto make a fool of yourself. Understand?""Harry, you don't have to believe. I'm not evensure I believe. But if there's even achance that Spock has an . . . an eternal soulthen that is my responsibility.""Yours!""As surely as if it were my own." He leanedforward. "Harry, give me back the Enterprise!With Scotty's help his" 161STAR TREK lll"No, Jim! The Enterprise would never stand thepounding."Kirk realized that Morrow had not understood a wordhe had said all evening. Harry did not believe himand did not trust him. Worse, he would not permithim to draw on a thirty years" friendship to helphim complete a task that bound him as strongly as anyStardeet mission he had ever undertaken."You've changed, Harry," he said with anger andcontempt. "You used to be willing to take somerisks.""I used to have different responsibilities thanI have now," Harry said sadly. "Jim, I'm notcompletely unsympathetic to your request, believeme. I'll contact Esteban. If anything comes of. . . what Grissom has found on Genesis,I will of course order them to bring itback.""How long ?""At least six weeks.""Impossible. Harry, Leonard McCoy isbeing driven mad! He wasn't properly preparedfor what happened to him, he wasn't trained in sixweeks the damage could be fatal!""You're not dictating any terms here!Grissom's mission is vital we have to have the dataon Genesis before we can make a decision about it!And you want me to order them to turn around and comestraight back so you can save a dead man's soul?Can't you see how that would sound? No. I'msorry.""I repeat give me back my ship.""I'm sorry, Jim. I can't let you have theEnterprise. his"Then I'll find a shi tilde I'll hire aship!""Out of the question!" Morrow said again. "You can hireone but you won't get it anywhere near Genesis. Thewhole Mutara sector is under quarantine. Noone goes there until the science team gets back,and probably not even then. Council's orders.". 162The Search For Spock"Then let me speak to the Council!" Jim'svoice rose, so absorbed was he in the urgency ofhis quest. "Harry, please! I can make themunderstand!"He realised that every person in the lounge was eitherstaring at him or making a noticeable effort to avoiddoing so. He drew back, forcing his temper backunder control."No, you understand," Morrow said. "You simply haveno conception of the political realities of thissituation. Tensions are strung so tight you could playthem like a piano! The Council has its hands fulltrying to deal with delegations from both the Romulan and theKlingon Empires. My gods, Jim, can youimagine the repercussions if you go in there andannounce your personal views on friendship andmetaphysics?" He shook his head slowly,stroked the condensation in stripes down the side of hisglass with his forefinger, and clenched his fist. "Jim toYour life and your career stand for rationality, notintellectual chaos. Keep up this emotionalbehavior, and you'll Ipse everything. You'lldestroy yourself!"As one friend accused him of abandoninglifelong rationality because of a duty to another friend whohad continually perceived him as totally illogical,Jim Kirk felt an almost hysterical urgeto laugh."Do you hear me, Jim?"Jim stared at him for a long time, searching for someway to respond to having been soirrevocably refused. He sagged back in hischair."Yes, I hear you," he said. He truly was notsure if he had heard everything Harry Morrow hadsaid to him, but it did not matter. He sighed. "I .. . just had to try.""Of course," Morrow said. "I understand."Jim said nothing, certainly not, No, you don't,you don't at all.STAR TREK 111"Now take my suggestion, Jim," Morrow saidkindly. "Enjoy your leave and let all this tensionblow away.""You're right," Rirk said with reluctance. Hepicked up his glass and raised it to Morrow."Thanks for the drink.""Any time."Jim set it back down without tasting it, rose,and walked from the lounge, eyes front. He was verymuch aware of Morrow, watching him withconcern, very much aware of all the other seniorStarfleet officers, deliberately avoiding him.This was the world in which he had lived for thirty years,the world in which he always before felt comfortable and welcome.The palpable chill said The pressure finally gotto him, Jim Kirk finally cracked.The rumorswd fly across Starfleet attranswarp speed, grow, and take on a life oftheir own.He left the lounge, stepping out into the terminalof the spaceport. Restrained conversation and low lightsgave way to brilliant illumination and the hubbub ofcrowds. He felt more out of place here than he everhad on any alien world. He wondered if there wasany place left for him at all.He looked around, feeling conspicuous in hisStarfleet uniform. Finally he found Sulu andChekov. They were a hundred meters across theterminal, wearing civilian clothes and sitting togetheron a circular bench, people-watching. Chekov wore ajumpsuit of relatively severe tailoring,while Sulu wore jeans and sandals and anembroidered white Filipino festival shirt.Sulu saw Kirk first and nudged Chekov. Theywaited for him with elaborate casualness. Kirkglanced around carefully, looking for other Starfleetpersonnel. He wished he had asked the two youngerofficers to wait for him somewhere more private. The waythingsThe Search For Spockstood, the less they were seen with him the better.He needed their help, but with any luck he might beable to get them out of all this relatively unscathed.He saw no one else he recognised, hejoined Sulu and Chekov."The word, sir?" Sulu said."His word is no," Kirk said, gesturing with ajerk of his head back toward the senior officers'lounge. "But my word . . . is given.""Count on our help, sir.""I'll need it, Hikaru." He had nearlyslipped, nearly said, "Thank you, Captain." Buthe had heard about Sulu's removal as captain ofExcelsior. The young officer still retained therank, of course, but without a ship it meant nothing.Kirk felt responsible for the change inSulu's orders. He did not want to hurt himany more."Shall I alert Dr. McCoy, sir?" Chekovasked."Yes. He has . . . a long journeyahead."Leonard McCoy strode down the crowdedstreet. His body felt like someone else's. Hecould smell the pungent scent of eight differentvolatile recreational drugs. He was familiarwith them all, of course he was, after all, adoctor. But he should not be able to sort them out soefficiently from the surrounding smells of the dirtystreet, the fog, the rain, incense and warm oil fromone establishment, raw meat from another. He couldhear more clearly than usual. He listened to fivesimultaneous conversations, one in Standard, two in moretraditional Earth languages, and two no, that wasa single conversation being carried out in two differentdialects of the same offworld tongue.He arrived at the meeting place. He pausedbefore its brightly lit come-hither sign. He couldfeel the colors of the neon script illuminating hisface with another dozen165STAR TREK Indifferent languages, evenly divided between Earthand other worlds. He rubbed the scratchy stubble on hisjaw. There was something else he was supposed to bedoing, something Jim had told him to do. Oh. Right.Jim had told him to shave and put on more beardrepressor. Was this as important? Heremembered what it was he was doing. It definitelywas more important than shaving.But is it the right thing? he wondered. There's still timeto turn back, go to the nearest hospital, confessto being stark raving mad, and make them lock me upbefore I get violent.He reached into his pocket, but it was empty.He had forgotten his tranquilizers. He shrugged.They had not been doing him much good anyway.He plunged into the tavern.The noise, the smoke, the appalling scent ofsizzling meat assaulted him. He staggered and onlymanaged to keep from falling by grabbing onto the nearestperson. She turned, ready to fight, then lookedat him more closely and laughed."Honey, you look like you're having a tough time ofit," she said. She supported him easily. She washalf a head taller than he. Herheavy, curly black hair spread around her headand down her back. She wore the black leatherpants and jacket favored by independent couriers,with the jacket fastened only at the bottom and nothingbeneath it. The skin of her throat and the inner curves ofher breasts looked like warm sable. She was black onblack on black, except her eyes, which were apiercing pale blue. He stared up at her and fellin love with her instantly. Only that saved him fromabandoning his appointment and asking her for the help heneeded. He did not want to drag anyone he lovedinto the trouble he was heading for.The Search For Spock"I'm . . . I'm all right," he said. Hedrew himself up straighter. He still had some dignity.She kept a steadying hand on his elbow."Sure?""Yes," he said. "Yes, thank you.""Okay." She let him go.Somehow he kept his feet and continuedfarther into the bar. A tiny plane whizzed past hisface. Startled, he stepped back and nearlyfell. A second plane whined past, itspropellers blurred, minuscule gunsblazing with a s harp snapping sound like a fire ofpitch-pine.The planes were holograms. Nearby, twoyouths lay in game couches, their eyes closed andtheir hands on antiqued controls. Behind their eyelidsthey were experiencing the dogfight of the two earlytwentieth century biplanes. McCoy watched thethree-dimensional images zoom high over the headsof the bar patrons. Each aircraft was the size ofhis hand, and exquisitely detailed. Suddenly theydove straight toward him. The Spad 7 vanishedinto his shirt front, the Albatros D-IIIdose behind. He hardly had time to flinch. Helooked over his shoulder to watch them soar into theheights again, unscathed by their passage through hisstrange and alien body. The fleeing Spadsuddenly executed an elegant loop-the-loop,came up behind the Albatros, and quite abruptly shotit out of the sky. The A1batros screamed into adive, emitted holographic flame and clouds ofholographic smoke and disappeared ahandsbreadth from the floor. The Spad zoomedvictoriously toward the ceiling and faded away."Gotcha!" cried one of the youths."Okay, okay want to make it threeout of five?""That is a wager."They were dressed alike McCoy wondered if thatwas some new style he had been too out of touchto notice and they looked so alike that it wasimpossibleSTAR TREK 111to tell if they were two of one gender, two of theother, or one of each. He supposed they knew.That was, after all, the thing that mattered.McCoy pushed on ahead. The illumination was verydim, but he could see quite clearly, in an odd andglowing way that he had never experienced before.Nevertheless he could not find the person he was lookingfor. Instead he found a small unoccupied booth inthe corner of the room and settled down to wait.Beneath the din of the tavern he heard footstepsquickly approaching. He glanced up."Long time, Doc," Kendra said."Yeah," he said. "Yeah . . ." He would haveliked to talk over old times with her. "Anyone . .. been looking for me?""I have," she said. "But what's the use?" Shesmiled. "Well. What'll it be?""Altair water." He drew himself up grandly.was "Specially carbonated from undergroundfissures.""Kendra snorted at his recitation of theadvertisement."Not your usual poison.""To expect one to order poison in a bar is notlogical," he said, and then he realized though itsurprised him to hear a tavern employeeadmitting it that of course she meant alcohol, which wasindeed a poison despite its wide use as arecreational drug.Then he wondered what in heaven's name he wastalking about. He simply did not want a drink,that was all. He had not had a drink since since beforeSpock died, as it happened. This is it, he thought.Sheer lunacy. I'm talking to myself. I alwaystalk to myself, though, he thought, it helps me think.Have since I was only a tad. Doesn't mean athing. As Freud said, Sometimes a cigar is onlya cigar. He noticed Kendra168 to --.The Search For Spockwatching him curiously. "Excuse me," hesaid. "I'm on medication.""Got it." She went away to get his water. Asher footsteps receded among the hubbub, anotherset approached.The alien slid into the booth beside him. "Hello!Welcome to your planet.""I think that's my line, stranger," McCoysaid."Oh, forgive. I here am new. But you areknown, being McCoy from EnterprZse.""You have me at a disadvantage, sir. You are?""I name not important. You seek I.Message received. Available ship standsby.""Good. How soon and how much?""How soon is now. How much . . . is where.""Where . . . ?""Is yes. Where?""Somewhere in the Mutara Sector.""Oh. Mutara restricted. Take permitsmany... money more.""There aren't going to be any damn permits!"McCoy shouted. "How can you get a permit to do adamn illegal thing?" He glanced aroundhurriedly to see if anyone hadnoticed his outburst, then continued in a softer, moreconspiratorial tone. "Look, price you name,money I got.""You name place, I name money. Otherwise,bargain no." tilde"All right, dammit! It's Genesis. The nameof the place we're going to is Genesis.""Genesis!" The being recoiled."Genesis, yes! How can you be deaf," hemuttered, "with ears like that?" I used to say the samething to Spock, McCoy thought."Genesis allowed is not. Is planetforbidden."STAR TREK 111"Now listen to me, my backwards friend!" Helurched forward and grabbed the alien's collar."Genesis may be "planet forbidden," but I'mdamn well hisA hand closed around his arm. McCoy triedto pull away, but the grip tightened painfully. Helooked up. The civilian, an ordinary man, soordinary he should have looked out of place here, but didnot, smiled at him pleasantly. When he leanedforward he loomed, and McCoy realisedhow big he was."Sir, I'm sorry, but your voice iscarrying," he said. "I don't think you want to bediscussing this subject in public. his"I'll discuss what I like, and who the hell areyou?"The alien tried to pluck McCoy's hands from hiscollar. McCoy considered going for his throat, butinstead clenched his hands harder around the fabric. Thecivilian tightened his grip again."Could I offer you a ride home, Dr.McCoy?"What shreds of control McCoy had regaineddisintegrated."Where's the logic in offering me a ride home,you idiot! If I wanted a ride home, would Ibe trying to charter a space flight?" He scowled,beginning to perceive the civilian as an obstacle to hisquest. "How the hell do you know who I am?"The plain young man lowered his voice."Federation security, sir."McCoy realized just how serious an obstacle theyoung man was. He lurched away, loosing hisgrasp on the alien and trying to break the securityman's grip. He crashed into Kendra,bringing his Altair water, which tumbled off her-trayand splashed over the alien's face and shoulders. Thealien leaped to his feet, brushing at the drops andstains. Kendra, surprised by the fray, fellbackwards against the next table, sending icy drinksinto customers' laps.The Search For Spock"You you horrible doctor!" the alien cried, stillbrushing at the water."Come in here and punch people, will you?" yelled acustomer as bits of crushed ice slid down thefront of his sheer trousers. "Whyn't you go across thestreet where you belong?" He punched the alien, whorolled with the blow, let himself fall over a chair thattripped up the ice-drenched patron, chose thebetter part of valor, and left his commission behind him.McCoy bowed to the wisdom of his former and alltoo brief colleague and headed for the door.Unfortunately the Federation man still had hold of hisarm. He brought McCoy up short. McCoyswung around, panicked, and grabbed the man at thevulnerable point between neck and shoulder. Hesqueezed with all his strength and turned to flee withouteven waiting to see what happened.Nothing had happened at all.The Federation man, his grip unbroken,dragged McCoy to a halt. He looked into thedoctor's eyes. "You're going to get a nice,long rest, doctor," he said gently. "Pleasecome along."McCoy had a choice walk or be carried.He walked.Chapter 8Saavik followed the blurry, half-obscuredtracks across the snow. The wind blew icecrystals against her face, whipping them across hercheeks and freezing them to her eyelashes. Shesquinted to try to see into the blizzard. Movementcaught her eye, and she headed toward it. The snowmade ghosts all around her. She would have believed shewere seeing phantoms if David's tricorder hadnot continued to bleat rhythmically.She trudged through the snow, cold andunhappy, trying to ignore both sensations. Butshe discovered that once she had released herself-discipline, even for only a few days, shecould not easily regain the complete Vulcan controlshe had worked so hard to learn.With the discovery of the creatures around Spock'scoffin, her hopes had crashed; a few momentslater, when she saw that the coffin was intact,unsealed, andTl Search For Spockempty, her hopes had risen just as abruptly.This emotionalism was dangerous; in addition, it wasillogical, for even when she dropped her mentalshields completely, she could find no sense ofSpock anywhere.She knew she had erred. Whatever happened,whatever she and David found, she mustre-establish dominance over her feelings andaspire to eradicating them.Now she understood why Vulcans deniedthemselves any indulgence in passion. It wasto protect themselves from pain.Saavik shivered and pressed forward against the howlingwind and the snow.The ground rose beneath her. She was climbing theflank of a glacier. In only a fewkilometers' distance it had changed from a thinblanket of snow to a sheet of ice many metersthick.The frequency of the tricorder's outputincreased until it was nearly a continuous shriek,even louder than the wind. Saavik stopped andmotioned for David to turn the thing off.Beneath the ragged whine of the wind, the skittering of snowacross the ground, the creaking of the ice beneath her feet,Saavik heard a weak and frightened whimper. Shewalked toward it. Her boots crunched through thefrozen crust. The snow reached halfway to herknees. The uneven footprints before her trailedatop the surface. She wondered if she werefollowing some small and vicious predator that amember of the Genesis team had made up as "a littlejoke," a little joke that now perhaps was injured anddesperate. Saavik was growing impatient with thecollective humor of the group. Her phaser madeacomforting weight in her hand.A great mass of stone, one moment concealed by thesnow, the next a wall of tumbled grey blocksbefore her, thrust abruptly from the surface of theglacier. The 173STAR TREK Inice had crumpled and cracked all around it,piling up in great heaps to either side.Saavik saw the child.He crouched in the meager shelter of a rockoverhang, naked, shuddering uncontrollably with thecold. He saw her and tried to scrabble deeperinto the cleft, clumsy on his injured leg.David saw the boy and gasped."Your comrades appear to have added ahumanoid species to the Genesis matrix,Saavik said. She crushed out the spark of fury thatrose in her against such presumption. She could notafford to lose her temper, not here, not now."We didn't," David said. "I'm surenobody did. We discussed it, because we realised itwas possible. But nobody did it. Nobody evenargued for it it was obvious to all of us that it would becompletely unethical to include an artificialintelligence in the first experiment. Besides, nobodycould have put such a complex program into the matrixwithout everybody else noticing.""David, the evidence is before your eyes." Sheholstered her phaser, opened the side pocket of hercoat, and drew out Spock's burial robe. Shestepped toward the child, carrying the heavy cloth in onehand, her other hand empty andoutstretched."No," David said. "The evidence is behind us,in Spock's empty coffin."She looked at him sharply, unwilling to letherself begin to hope again.The little boy huddled against cold stone, too tiredto flee any farther. The wind whipped his scragglyblack hair around his face and shoulders. The coldhad given his skin a peculiar pallid tint.Saavik sat on her heels beside him and touched hisshoulder gently. He 174, The Search For Spockflinched violently and stared at her, wide-eyed.She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. Hecontinued to watch her, motionless, as she pushed back hishair, revealing his ears.He was a Vulcan.Saavik stared at him with wonder. She did notknow what this could mean. Now was no time for analysis.The cold and the wind were toopowerful. Whoever or whatever the boy was, she hadto get him off the glacier.She hoped she had shown him she meant him noharm. Moving slowly and carefully, she brought theblack cloth forward, opened it slowly so he couldsee what she was doing, and wrapped it aroundhis shoulders. He touched it with wonder, then hugged ittight."I am Saavik," Saavik said in Vulcan."Can you speak?"He cocked his head at her, but did not reply.She felt no resonances from him, no mentalemanations, no hint of Spock's powerfulintelligence. He was, rather, an innocent, ablank."It was the Genesis wave," David said. "Itmust have been. His cells could have been regenerated.Reformed . . ."Still moving carefully so as not to alarm the child,Saavik drew out her communicator. David'stheory was the most outrageous she couldimagine . . . and the simplest."Saavik to Gr tilde ssom. CaptainEsteban, come in please.""Esteban here, Saavik. Go ahead.""We have found the source of the life signs. Itis a Vulcan child, the equivalent of eight or tenEarth years of age."There was a very long pause before Esteban replied.STAR TREK 111"A child' That's . . . extraordinary. Howdid he get there?""It is Dr. Marcus' opinion that this is that theGenesis effect has in some wayregenerated tilde aptain Spock."Back on board the Grissom, J.t.Esteban clamped his jaw tight shut to keep it fromdropping. He glanced over at his science officer,who stopped staring at the speaker from which Saavik'sannouncement had come and metEsteban's gaze with an expression of complete,bewildered, speechless perplexity."Ah, Saavik," Esteban said, slowly,carefully, trying to figure out how to reply withoutsaying that he thought she and David Marcus had gonestark staring bankers. "That's . . . ah . . .extraordinary. What would you, ah, like to do next?""Request permission to beam aboardimmediately."He wanted to stall them for a bit. It was possiblethat some glitch in the Genesis programs hadproduced powerful hallucinogens, or even that one ofits denizens could take on the form of someone theobserver would most desire to see. He could not takethe chance of beaming such a thing on board. Ofcourse there was always the possibility that whatSaavik was describing was exactly what washappening...."Saavik . . . do Dr. Marcus' instrumentsshow any chance of, er, radioactive contamination?"After a short pause, Saavik replied,"None that he can detect, sir.""Well. All the same, I'm going to adviseStarfleet and get instructions.""I am sure Starfleet would approve, sir,"Saavik said."Nevertheless . . . Iet's do it by the book. Standby on this channel." He nodded to hiscommunications officer. "G."The Search For Spock"Starfleet command, this is USS Grissom onsubspace coded channel ninety-eight pointeight. Come in, please."The comm officer flinched as a high whine came throughthe earpiece."Sir," the comm officer said to Esteban, "some-thing's jamming our transmission. An energysurge.""What's the location?""Astern, sir. Aft quarter.""On screen."The viewscreen flickered from a forward view to theaft pickup. The starfield lay empty behind them,empty except for an odd interference pattern inone corner. Esteban frowned,wondering if the maintenance of the pickup had beenlet go.The interference pattern suddenly coalesced andsolidified.Out of nothing, a ship appeared.Down on the surface of Genesis, Saavik andDavid waited impatiently for a response fromEsteban. To Saavik's embarrassment, she wasbeginning to shiver from the cold. The child had stoppedwatching them. He hunched shivering in the blackcloth, his eyelids drooping."Don't sleep," Saavik said, shaking himgently. He did not respond."Just like good old J.t. to leave us here freezingour butts off while he puts in a callto Starlleet," David said. "Let's get off thisglacier, anyway."Saavik nodded. Between them, they got the child to hisfeet. His injured leg collapsed beneathhim. They would have to carry him, then call Grissomback when they got to a more hospitable spot.As she was about to put her communicator away, itshrieked and squealed.STAR TREK In"Oh, my god!" It was Esteban's voice."Red alert! Raise the shields!""Captain," Saavik said, "what is it?""We're under attack! Stand by forevasive stand by for ,,The cracked voice dissolved in a rattle ofstatic."Captain! Captain Esteban, come inplease!"Deep space replied to her with silence.On the bridge of the Klingon fighter,Commander Kruge watched the Federationscience ship open out like a flower with a center offlame. The wreckage exploded and expanded beyond thelimits of his own ship's port. Kruge's angerwas only a little less explosive.He swung around toward his gunner."I told you," he said dangerously, in the lowestof the low dialects, "engine sectiononly!""A fortunate mistake," the gunner said. Hiscrest flared up in excitement until he realisedhow Kruge had spoken to him. "Sir . . . ?""I wanted prisoners," Kruge said, layeringall the strata of his words with contempt. At hisside, Warrigul growled.The gunner's crest flattened against his skull.Kruge gestured to Maltz."Offer him a chance to regain his honor," Krugesaid.Maltz stopped before the gunner's station and drew hisceremonial blade.The gunner cringed. "Sir, please, no it was anerror!"Maltz willed the gunner to get hold of himself andbow to the inevitable with grace. Maltz offered him hisown honor blade. Every member of the crew watched,mesmerised.The Search For SpockInstead of accepting it and doing the proper thing, thegunner lurched backward from his station."Sir, no!" he cried. He stumbled towardKruge, his hands outstretched insupplication. "Mercy, sir hisKruge drew his phaser and fired. The gunnerdisintegrated in a flare of energy."Animal," Kruge muttered. Warrigulsnorted in agreement and rubbed up against his leg.Maltz sheathed his blade, glad that its edge hadnot been sullied with the b100d of a coward."Sir," Torg said, "may I suggest hisKruge whirled around to confront him. The commander stillgripped the handle of his phaser, his frustrationundiminished."Say the wrong thing, Torg, and I will kill you,too!""I only mean to say, my lord, that if it isprisoners you want, we interrupted atransmission from the planet's surface. I havetraced it." He gestured to the screen. "These lifesigns may be the very scientists you seek."Kruge strode to his side, glared at thescreen, and analysed the readings. One was clearlyhuman, the other two less distinctive. Vulcan,perhaps, or Romulan. Human was to be expected;humans were the troublemakers of the galaxy, as far asKruge was concerned. It annoyed him thoroughly that theRomulans might be involved in this. Nodoubt they had abandoned their commitments to the KlingonEmpire and rushed straight to conclude an alliancewith the Federation, in return for a share in Genesis.And he, Kruge, was about to catch them at thetreachery."Very good," he said to Torg, who stood evenstraighter with the pleasure of his commander's approval."Very good."\*STAR TREK 111The Vulcan boy huddled against Saavik'sside, unable to understand the events taking placeoverhead, unable even to understand that events were takingplace overhead, but upset and frightened by David andSaavik's reaction."Grissom, this is Saavik, come in please hisThe emergency channel replied with static.Suddenly Saavik sna pped the communicatorclosed. Her transmission would clearly andeasily mark their position."Saavik, my gods, what happened to them?""It would seem that Grissom was destroyed by anenemy attack," she said.Saavik thought with regret of Frederic,the Glaeziver, whose counsel she had grown to valuein the short time she had known him. He had understoodwhat Genesis might mean for him and his kind; and nowhe was gone."Destroyed . . . ?" Stunned, Davidlooked up, as if he might see the remains of theship drifting dead in the new sky.Saavik put away her communicator. It wasuseless now. She picked up the Vulcan child andstarted across the ice. She was very worried about the boy.He was so cold he had ceased even to shiver.The ground quaked gently beneath her feet. Somedistance away, ice shuddered, squealed, and ruptured.The child cried out weakly and began to tremble again. Hispain did not ease until the temblor faded.Saavik reached the place where, half an hourearlier, the snowfield had ended. Now it stretchedonward and she could not see its edge. She hitched thechild higher against her shoulder and ploughed on.David caught up to her.The Search For Spock"Saavik that means we're stranded down here!""Logic indicates that is the case," she said.The glacier seemed never-ending. It must beflowing at an incredible rate."How can you be logical at a time like this? We haveto get the hell off this planet!""We must get out of the snow, first," she said. "Ithink it likely that we would freeze before we wouldstarve, on this world.""We have to get off Genesis!" David said again."That will be difficult," Saavik said. It tookconsiderable effort to make any headway through the deep,soft snow. She trudged on."Why don't you just call for help!"She looked at him. His demand was mostcurious, the result, no doubt, of panic.He knew her communicator was nothing but a localtransceiver. Grissom had been the onlyFederation ship within its range. Whatever destroyedit was the only ship she would reach if she called again.David's reaction disturbed her greatly. He wasmore frightened of remaining on the world he had created thanhe was of transmitting a mayday that would be pickedup by enemies. He was more distressed by having to remainin a paradise he had helped design than he wasby thedestruction of an entire ship and its crew.tilde"I have already made one transmission too many,"she said.David's shocked expression revealed hiscomprehension. He did not ask her to call for helpagain.The snow ended as abruptly as it had begun. Theedge of the ice moved perceptibly, creeping andgrinding its way across the desert floor. Saavikstepped out of cold and into abrupt, welcome heat.She carried theSTAR TREK 111child across a hundred meters of the waterwornstones, to a place where he would be safe for at leasta few minutes. The snow on her hair and the iceon her eyelashes melted quickly. Cold dropsslid down her face. She lowered-the child to the ground,brushed away the dissolving snow with half-numbedhands, and helped him to lie in a warm and sunnyspot.David sank down nearby, drew his kneesto his chest, and laid his face against his folded arms.Saavik sat on her heels beside him."David," she said gently.He said nothing."David, it is time for truth between us." She puther hands on his shoulders in what she hoped might bea comforting gesture. But what did she know of comfort?She was neither Vulcan, never needing comfort, never ableto give it, nor was she Romulan, able to givefull rein to her passions. "This planet is neitherwhat you intended nor what you hoped for, is it?"David let his hands fall. "Not exactly,"he said."Is it what you feared?""I didn't think this would happen to was"But you have not been surprised by anything we havediscovered, no matter how bizarre.""There was one set of equations, I wasn't quitecertain about them . . .""You were overruled by the other members of the Genesisteam?""I. . . I didn't want to make a big thingof them. . .""Surely you pointed them out?""Why should I?" he snapped, on the defence."I'm a mere biochemist, as my young geniusphysicist colleagues kept trying not to remindme. If Madison and 182The Search For SpockMarch didn't think their creation was going to dissolveback into protomatter his"Protomatter!" Saavik exclaimed."David, you are saying the entire system isunstable tilde and dangerously unpredictable! Asan ethicalscientist his"It shouldn't have happened! It hasn't, yet,maybe it won't. Maybe it wasn't a mistakeat all his"And perhaps the ground tremors are in our minds,and the harmonic vibrations we detected from Grissomwere instrument malfunction..." She shook her head."Oh, David.""I just figured, if it worked out for fusion, it wouldwork out for us.""What are you talking about?""The first time anybody started a fusion reaction thefirst time on Earth, I mean. It was a bomb, ofcourse his"Naturally," Saavik said."They didn't know for sure if they'd set off achain reaction of all.the hydrogen in theatmosphere. But they took the chance. They did itanyway.""Indeed.""Well, at least there's precedent.""I am glad to see you are able to maintain yoursense of humor," Saavik said."Dammit, Saavik, if those equations weren'tright, the whole project collapsed permanently!All I had was a suspicion, and it was asuspicion about a probab tilde lity functionat that! There was only a one in a million chance thatthe worst would happen even if the worst could happen.Besides, if we'd tested Genesis the way weintended to, instead of having it blown up by youradmiral's his"Your father's hiswas friend Mister Khan, there wouldn't have beenanybody on the planet to be in danger!"STAR TREK In"You did not tell your collaborators,"Saavik said. "Even after detonation, you did nottell Carol 9'"If I had, it wouldn't be just us stuck here! Motherwould never have gone back to Earth, not if she'd known.She'd have taken the whole responsibility on herself. . . when it was mine to accept.""Just like your father . . ." Saavik said sadly."You changed the rules." She knew now thatGenesis would never benefit anyone. It would nevercreate new resources, it would never provide anew home for Frederic's people, it would only, ever,cause grief and anguish and disaster."If I hadn't, it might have been years ornever!"All Saavik could think was that if Genesis hadbeen delayed or abandoned, none of the recent eventswould have happened. Reliant would never have visited theworld on which Khan Singh and his people were marooned. Khanwould never have obtained a starship. He would never have ledhis people on his mission of vengeance. The scientists onSpacelab would not have been murdered. TheEnterprise and its crew of children never would have beenattacked. Peter Preston would still be alive.Genesis would not have existed to be used as a weapon,and Mr. Spock would not have had to sacrifice hisexistence to save his ship and his crewmates.Spock would not have died.Nor would he have been resurrected. The childpossessed the substance of her teacher, but he lackedhis mind, his experience, his individuality.Saavik rose to her feet and stoodlooking down at David. A dangerous furybegan to form."And how many have paid the price for your impatience?"Saavik said. "How many have died? How much damagehave you caused and what is yet to come"...'9The Search For SpockHe raised his head. His belligerence dissolved ingrief and anguish, but Saavik was still too closeto the madness to forgive him. She fled from him, herfists clenched so hard that her nails cut into herpalms. When she had run a hundred paces shestopped.Saavik cried out to the dying world, a long, hoarseshriek of rage and pain.For a jail cell, it was not half bad.Leonard McCoy lay on the bunk with his armflung across his eyes.The bunk was no wider than his shoulders, thefloor was badly worn, grey, spongy linoleum,and he could not turn out the lights, but, still, it was nottoo bad. For a jail cell.McCoy felt quite calm and rational and single-minded, despite having been forbidden anytranquilizers. After he had prowled thecell, pacing back and forth and inspecting every crack andcorner of it, after he had come to the conclusion that he couldnot escape (that was the one other thing wrong with it, ofcourse he could not pass through the open doorway; theforce field threw him back into the room at everytry, more forcefully and more painfully each time. But,then, it was a jail cell), the compulsion to returnto the Mutara Sector and Genesis had vanished assuddenly and completely as it had appeared.He wondered about that. It seemed Uke aterribly logical reaction to have....McCoy dozed off."You got a visitor, Doc."McCoy started out of troubled sleep, wonderingwhere he was and how he had gotten there, and thenremembering. Not a dream, after all. Too bad."Make it quick, Admiral," the guard said."They're moving him to the Federation funny farm."STAR TREK 111McCoy peered sideways from beneath his arm and sawthe guard and Jim Kirk standing outlined by the forcefield. Jim shook his head sadly."Yes, my poor friend," he said. "I hearhe's fruity as a nutcake."Oh, you do, do you? McCoy thought. A "funnyfarm," eh? Is that the kind of respect anybodywith a few problems gets in here? Besides, I know myrights they can't send me anywhere without a hearing.However, they had put him in here without a hearing.Genesis had not onl y frightened the Federation andStarfleet, it had put them into a total panic.McCoy wondered what would happen when Jimcalled his lawyer for him, as McCoy intended to askhim to do. He wondered if the administration of thisprison would even admit to an attorney that he washere."Two minutes," the guard said.McCoy watched the grid of the force field dimand fade. He had to struggle against the sudden compulsionto leap up and try to fight his way out. Since theguard was head and shoulders taller than he, and armedat that, such a course was definitely not logical.As Jim stepped inside the cell, the urgediminished in proportion to the strength of the reappearingenergy barrier.Jim knelt beside the cot."Jim '9 McCoy said."Shh." He raised his hand, shielding it from thesurveillance camera. "How many fingers?"His fingers parted in the Vulcan salute."That's not very damned funny," McCoy said."Good," said Jim. "Your sense of humor hasreturned." He reached into his pocket."The hell it has!" Two minutes, and Jimwanted to spend it trading one-liners. McCoywanted a lawyer and he wanted out of here. It wasridiculous to maintain the pretence of beingasleep, so he sat up.The Search For SpockJim drew out a spray injector.McCoy frowned. "What's that?""Lexorin.""Lexorin! What for?""You're suffering from a Vulcan mind-meld,Doctor.""Speck ?"', -- -- -6'That's right.""That green-blooded, pointy-eared son of abitch. It's his revenge for all those arguments helost his"Give me your arm. This will make you well enoughto travel." He fumbled around with the automatichypo, putting himself in considerable danger ofshooting himself in the hand. "How do you do this, anyway?""Give it here," McCoy said. He took thehypo and pushed up his own sleeve. "This once,Admiral, you're beyond your capabilities."Outside the prison, Hikaru Sulu ran hishands through his hair to muss it, tucked one side of hisruffled civilian shirt in and left the other free,hyperventilated for a few breaths, and, when he thoughthe had a properly flustered air about him, flungopen the door and rushed into the reception area. Thetwo guards looked up from their card game, startledby the appearance of another visitor so late atnight."Where's Admiral Kirk?" Sulu saidurgently.One of the guards looked him up and down."He's with a prisoner. What's it to you?""Get him quickly! Starfleet CommanderMorrow wants him right now!"The guard snorted with irritation, glanced at hispartner and shrugged, laid his cards aside, and fumbledaround for his electronic key. He vanished into thecell block. His partner glanced speculativelyat the face187STAR TREK Illdown cards, glanced at Sulu with unconcealeddisdain, and flipped his partner's poker hand face up.Then, watching Sulu with a faint sneer, he turnedthe cards back over.Sulu simply watched as if he saw men cheattheir partners every day and thought nothing of it. It was to hisadvantage if the guard assumed he was a powerlessflunky.The guard stretched and yawned."Keeping you busy?" Sulu said to the big man."Don't get smart, Tiny."Sulu frowned. He had to remind himself forciblythat he was supposed to be someone's messenger boy."This man is sick! Look at him!" Kirk'smuffled voice came from beyond the cell-block door.The guard heard, too, and rose to his feet.Sulu took a step forward, ready to distract him.The console did the job for him.The signal buzzed insistently. The guardfrowned, glanced at the cell block door, andsnatched up the receiver. Sulu relaxed, centeredhimself, and waited. These few minutes were crucial.A glitch now could destroy the whole plan."Sixth floor holding," the guard said.He listened to his earphone. "Yeah, come on up andget him, his visitor's just leaving.... What? Someadmiral, name of Kirk."Sulu could hear the squawk of protest from thereceiver. He also heard a crash and thud from within thecell block, but the guard was too distractedto notice."How the hell am I supposed to know that?" theguard snarled. "He's a damned admiraWill!All right!" He flung down the earpiece and headedfor the door. He heard the commotion beyond.Me Search For SpockThe door to the cell block opened and AdmiralKirk stepped through, supporting Dr. McCoy."What the hell is going on?"Sulu tapped the guard on the shoulder."Dammit, I told you was The guard swungtoward him, punching at Sulu's head as heturned.Sulu stepped into and around the strike, cutting downwith his hands to redirect the force of the blow. As the bigman stumbled forward,off-balance, Sulu drew him in, pivoted, andspiraled him up. The guard ran out from underhimself, and Sulu completed the spiral into the ground.The wall interposed itself. Sulu's opponent hitit with a thud a hollow thud, Sulu fancied andslid slowly and limply to the floor.The form had not been perfect for yokomenuchiiriminage, and throwing one's partner into the wall was ratherbad form. But, then, this was the real world.Besides, Sulu hated to be teased about his height.Sulu glanced up. Kirk was watchingappreciatively."The side elevator," Sulu said. "Agentson their way up."Kirk nodded. He and McCoy hurried out theside door. Sulu paused by the master console.He reached beneath it, sought out the central processor,and applied the confuser he had put together. A momentlater it rewarded him with a small fireworks displayand the acrid smell of.burned semiconductors.Sulu started after Kirk. He reached the door,paused, and glanced down at the unconscious guard."Don't call me 'tiny,"" he said.Someone should have told the man that in Sulu's chosenmartial art, being short was an advantage.Sulu caught up to Kirk and McCoy andhelped support the doctor."I'm all right," the doctor muttered. But hedid notSTAR TREK 111try to pull away. He was steadier than the lasttime Sulu had seen him. Apparently Sarek'slexorin had worked.Admiral Kirk pulled out his communicator andflipped it open."Unit two, this is one. The Kobayashi Maruhas set sail for the promised land. Acknowledge.""Message acknowledged," Chekov replied, hisvoice sounding tinny from the small speaker. "Allunits will be informed."Kirk closed his communicator. McCoyseemed to gain strength from the interchange and, perhaps, fromregaining his freedom. He cocked his eyebrow atKirk."You're taking me to the promised land?""What are friends for?" said Kirk.On board Excelsior, Montgomery Scottwaited for the turbo-lift. He kept his hand thrustdeep in his pocket. The sharp corners of a smalland nondescript chunk of semiconductor,elegant only at the microscopiclevel, bit into his palm.The lift arrived, the doors slid open, andCaptain Styles stepped out. Scott started. Hehad not expected to see anyone, particularly notCaptain Styles. He managed to greet theofficer civilly; technically, after all, Styleswas his superior officer.Superior officer, indeed, Scott thoughtangrily. Taking this ship from our own Mr. Suluwith nae a second thought nor a protest. "Tisnae thing superior in that."Ah, Mr. Scott," Styles said. "Callingit a night?""Aye, Captain, yes," Scott said, tryingto maintain his frozen smile."Turning in myself. Don't know if I'll be ableto sleep, though I'm looking forward to breaking some of theEnterprise's speed records tomorrow.""Aye, sir," Scott said through clenched teeth.The Search For Spock"Good night." Scott got into the lift. Assoon as the doors slid closed between him andStyles, he scowled.His whole time on Excelsior had beenlike a replay of the arguments he had had with Mr.Sulu about the ship. Only this time, Scott lostmost of the arguments. Scott would never admit itto Sulu, but Excelsior was, indeed, amiracle of engineering. He had expected it to befull of complications, but its systems were elegantlyintegrated, clean, and nearly flawless. Scott,of course, had been looking for the flaws."Level, please," the ship's computer said.There were a few things on the ship that Scott didnot like, such as the faintly insolent baritone voiceof the computer. Had he the charge of Excelsior, thatwould change."Transporter room," he said."Thank you," said the computer."Up your shaft!"The lift jerked into motion."Temper, temper," Scott said.Saavik and David struggled up the steepflank of the mountain, seeking a vantage point from whichto watch for other survivors of Grissom. Davidbelieved it was at least possible that a few othersmight have had enough warning to escape. He knewSaavik thought the possibility unlikely, but shehad not tried to persuade him it wasimpossible. In fact, she had barely spoken to himsince his confession about Genesis. When he suggestedthey climb to higher ground, she merely shrugged,picked up the Vulcan boy, and started toward themountain that rose abruptly from the surrounding desert."Are you mad at me?" David askedhesitantly.She kept on climbing. But after another twentySTAR TREK lllmeters she said, "Were I to permit the lesscivilised part of my character to dictate my reactions,I would be infuriated with you.""I had to do it!" David said. "It shouldn't haveput anyone in danger, and if it worked his"Yes," she said. "So you have said.""I knew if I told you, I'd lose you asmy friend," David said, despondent.Saavik stopped and laid the Vulcan boy downgently in the shade of a tree, out of the penetratingblue-white sunlight. Then she faced David andtook his hands in hers."You have not lost me as a friend," sh e said."But you must hate me, after all this!""I am angry," she said, not botheringto conceal her feelings behind a philosophicalcomparison of Vulcans and Romulans, no longertrying to claim that she did not possess those feelingsat all. "If I understand them properly, anger andhatred are two very different emotions. And again, ifI understand correctly it is unusual to hate aperson that one loves.""Saavik was He tightened his grasp on herhands."Perhaps I am not capable of love, as humansknow it," Saavik said. "But as you cannot explain it,I am free to define it for myself. I chooseto define it as the feelings that I have for you."She looked into his eyes. She felt in hiswrists his cool, strong pulse. She drew herhands up his arms, to his shoulders, to the sides of hisface. He moved toward her and put his arms aroundher. She kissed him. David felt as if he weredissolving in a white-hot flame, or tumblingunprotected through a solar flare.Saavik drew away."We must go on," she said. "We cannot stay here."As she started toward the Vulcan boy, she heardThe Search For Spockstrange sound. She glanced back the way they hadcome."David," she said with wonder, "look."Far below, the glacier lapped at the foot of themountain, surging up in slow-motion waves. AsDavid and Saavik watched, the ice creptforward, piling and folding and crushing itself againstimmovable stone, squealing and cracking and shrieking.The ice had completely engulfed the desert,inundating it like a silver flood.Scott materialised in the dark. He hated beingtransported into darkness."Chekov?" he whispered."Welcome home, Mr. Scott," Chekovsaid."Strasvuitche, tovarisch.""None o" your heathen gibberish, Chekov,"Scott said. "How did ye get on board?""We have ways," Chekov said."Which ways, in particular?""Partner of "Unit three" was takingadvantage of her good nature, was late for job.Will be more difficult for "Unit one."""All right," Scott said. "Let's get somelife in tee this old tub." He squintedacross the transporter room of the Enterprise. Hecould barely make out Chekov's hands in the faintglow of the console's controls."How was trip?" Chekov said."Short," Scott said. "Let's get to work."Uhura replied to the ten P.m. check."Roger. Old City Station at twenty-twohundred hours. All is well."She made a few adjustments to the controls of theEarth-based transporter to which she had been as193STAR TREK 111signed. This was a peaceful posting; she had beenhere since four this evening and, officially, she hadtransported no one in or out. The schedule listedno travelers officially for the rest of the night.She became aware that Lieutenant Heisenbergwas watching her closely, with a slight frown ofcuriosity. He leaned back in his chair, his handsclasped behind his head and his feet up on the console."You amaze me, Commander," he said."How is that?" she said mildly."You're a twenty-year space veteran yet youask for the worst duty station in town. I mean, lookat it this is the hind end of space.""Oh, peace and quiet appeal to me,Lieutenant."UhuMore smiled a private smile."Maybe it's okay for someone like you, whose careeris winding down."Uhura raised an eyebrow at that remark, butlet it pass."But me," Heisenberg said, "I need somechallenge in my life. Some adventure. Even justa surprise or two.""You know what they say, Lieutenant. Becareful what you ask for you may get it.""I wish," he said with feeling.Uhura glanced at the clock. She had triedto persuade Heisenberg to go home early, on thegrounds that there was hardly enough work for one person, letalone two. Unfortunately, he had declined.Apparently he felt slightly guilty aboutarriving an hour late. She wished he would choosesome other day to make it up, but that was life.The door slid open.Admiral Kirk, Dr. McCoy, andCaptain Sulu entered and headed straight for thetransporter platform withThe Search For Spockout a pause. Kirk appeared intent, but intenton something and somewhere else, distracted from this place andtime. McCoy looked exhausted, but steady.Sulucaught Uhura's gaze and offered her hisunshadowed smile."I talked to Sarek," Uhura heard Kirksay softly to McCoy. "I'm worried about him,Bones. The strain on him hisHeisenberg dropped his feet to the floor and satup very straight in his chair."Gentlemen," Uhura said. "Good evening.""Good evening, Commander," Admiral Kirk said."Everything ready?""Yes, Admiral." She swept her hand through theair in a gesture of welcome. "Step into mypallor."Uhura saw Heisenberg's jaw go agape ashe recognized the travelers. He was the onefactor of uncertainty in this equation. She hopedhe would behave sensibly. She began settingcontrols."Commander," he whispered, "these are some of the mostfamous people in Starfleet. Admiral Kirk! Mygodst""Good for you, Lieutenant," she said."But it's damned irregular no orders, noencoded i.d. his"All true," she said agreeably.Heisenberg glanced over her shoulder and frownedat the settings she had entered."That's the Enterprise, was he said in a low andworried voice."And another one for you, Lieutenant. You'redoing very well tonight.""But the Enterprise is sealed we can't beamanybody directly on board!""Can't we?"STAR TREK 111"No, we can't It's directly against orders,we can't just let people waltz in here and go on board asealed ship, no matter who they are!"Uhura was rather glad he was making the objection, forin the long run it would serve to keep him out of trouble."What are we going to do about it?" he exclaimed."I'm going to do nothing about it. You're going to sitin the closet.""The closet!" He backed off from her. "Have youlost all sense of reality?""But this isn't reality, Lieutenant,"she said sweetly. "This is fantasy." She drewout her concealed pocket phaser and levered it at him.It was set on stun, of course, but stun was more thansufficient for this exercise. She hoped Heisenbergwould not make her use it. Waking up from phaser stunwas rather unpleasant. Uhura wished him neither harmnor physical discomfort. His psychic discomfort,though, was anoth er thing entirely. She owed him a littlepsychic discomfort, after that snarky remark about hercareer."You wanted adventure?" she asked. "How'sthis? Got your old adrenaline going?"Heisenberg nodded."Good boy," she said. "Now get in thecloset."She touched a key and the door to the storagedoset, just behind him, slid open. She gestured with thephaser and he backed into it."Wait hisShe closed the door."I'm glad you're on our side," McCoysaid.She smiled."Let's go," Kirk said. "Uhura, is it onautomatic? Come on, get up here.""No," she said.The Search For SpockIt took him a second to realize what she hadsaid. His expression changed from distractionto amazement.""No"?" he said. "What do you mean,"no"?""I realize that the Admiral is . . . somewhatunfamiliar with the word hisKirk opened his mouth to speak, but she cut himoff.was but somebody's got to stay behind and put enoughglitches in communications so you don't have every ship inthe sector coming after you.""You can do it from the Enterprise his"No, I can't. It's too easy to jam.Admiral, there's no time to argue! Prepareto energise!""What about ?" He gestured toward the closet."Don't worry about Mr. Adventure. I'llhave him eating out of my hand." If I have to, shethought. "Go with all my hopes, my friends."Kirk nodded, acquiescing. "Energize."...mentShe activated the beam.fitChapter 9After the figures of Kirk, Sulu, andMcCoy turned to sparks and vanished, Heisenbergstarted pounding on the inside of the closet door.Uhura ignored him and set to work opening thecommunications channels that she would need to interferewith as soon as Spacedock realized what was goingon.Uhura was in her element at the console. Sheinfiltrated every important communications channelbetween headquarters and the fleet. By the time the tanglegot straightened out, the Enterprise would be halfwayto Genesis. If the ship could evade any pursuitsent directly from Spacedock, then AdmiralKirk should be able to carry out his mission. If it couldbe carried out.Sulu felt his body form around hisconsciousness, and then he was standing on the bridge of theEnterprise with Kirk and McCoy solidifying besidehim. The ship'sThe Search For Spocksystems were running at standby level,and the bridge felt very empty with only five people.At the navigation console, Chekov raised his hand ingreeting. Scott rose from the command chair to greetKirk."As promised, 'tis all yours, sir," hesaid. "All systems automated and ready. Achimpanzee and two trainees could run her.""Thank you, Mr. Scott," Kirk saiddrily. "I'll try not to take that personally."He drew aside, with McCoy, and faced the otherthree. "My friends," he said. "I can't ask you to goany farther. Dr. McCoy and I have to do this. Therest of you do not."Taking the Enterpnse to Genesis would require agood deal more than "a chimpanzee and twotrainees," and everyone on the bridge knew it.Sulu strode down the steps and took his place atthe helm. Yesterday he had made a decision onwhere to place his loyalties. He saw no reasonto change his mind now."Admiral," Chekov said, "we're losingprecious time.""What course, please, Admiral?" Sulusaid, entering a course for the Mutara sector. -Kirk glanced from Chekov, to Sulu,to Scott."Mr. Scott ?""I'd be grateful, Admiral, if ye'dgive the word."Kirk hesitated, then nodded sharply. "My wordis given. Gentlemen, may the wind be at ourbacks. Stations, please!"Kirk took his own place in the command seat."Clear all moorings...."Sulu centered his attention on the impulseengines. They had not, of course, received the overhaulScott had wished to give them, and they respondedhesitantly, irritably, erratically, just as theyhad on the way in. The warp drive would be equallyrocky.STAR TREK 111The ship backed hesitantly from its slip andswung toward the entrance of Spacedock."Engage auto systems," Kirk said. "Onequarter impulse power."The Enterprise reached the berth in which Excelsiorlay. Sulu gave the new ship a single glance andpushed the longing, and thetemptation for regret, out of his mmd.Sulu started hearing consternation over the communicationschannels, as sensors and alarms and Starfleetpersonnel on late-night watch beganto realizewhat was happening. The Enterprise driftedlike a ghost ship past Excelsior, toward the hugeclosed spacedoors. He heard the beginning of a commandto secure them, a command that was abruptly and rudelycut off by a screech of static. A moment later araucous voice spilled over the channel. Sulurecognized the voice of a popular comedian.He grinned. Everything Uhura did, she did withflair and humor. Crossing Starfleet channelswith those of a system-wide entertainment network mightwell produce an interesting hybrid.Quite, as Spock would have said, fascinating."One minute to spacedoors," Sulu said.McCoy fidgeted on the upper bridgelevel."You just gonna walk through them?""Calm yourself, Bones," Kirk said."Sir," Chekov said, "Starfleet CommanderMorrow, on emergency channel. He orders youto surrender vessel.""No reply, Mr. Chekov. Maintain yourcourse."Sulu set the communications monitor to steadyscan. At one channel it paused long enough for himto hear, "What the hell do you mean, yellow alert?How can you have a yellow alert in Spacedock?"The Search For SpockThe soundtrack of an old movie cut off thereply "Who are those guys"?"The one thing Uhura could not do was prevent people onSpacedock from seeing what washappening. Everyone at the space station knew theEnterprise was being decommissioned. By now they would havebegun to notice something distinctly odd."Thirty seconds to spacedoors," Sulu said."Sir, Excelsior is powering up with ordersto pursue," Chekov said.Sulu switched the viewscreen to an aft scan.They all watched Excelsior come alive,preparing for the chase."My gods," McCoy said. "It's gaining onus just sitting there."Sulu switched back to a forward scan. Thespacedoors filled the viewscreen completely."Steady, steady," Kirk said. "All right,Mr. Scott?""Sir ?" Scott answered distractedly, for hisconcentration was fixed on smoothing out his infiltrationroutine."The doors, Mr. Scott.""Aye, sir, workin' on it."Sulu had his hands on the controls to apply fullreverse thrust when the doors finally cracked open andrevealed the bright blackness of space beyond. Thedoors slid aside for the bow of the Enterprise. With ahandsbreadth to spare, they were free."We have cleared spacedoors," Sulu said."Full impulse power!"Sulu laid it on. The Enterprise shuddered andplunged ahead.Behind them, Excelsior burst out into space.Uhura had left the channels clean enough for theEnterprise to know what was going on, but she was alsoSTAR TREK 111insuring that no ship could be sent after them by radioor subspace communications.All they had to do was elude Excelsior."Excelsior closing to four thousand meters,sir," Chekov said."Mr. Scott," Kirk said, "weneed everything you've got now.""Aye, sir. Warp drive standing by.""Kirk!" Captain Styles' voice burst throughthe chatter and static. "Kirk, you do this and you'llnever sit in a captain's chair again!"Kirk ignored him; Sulu gritted his teeth.In the background of the channel he could hearExcelsior preparing to apply a tractor beam."Warp speed, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said."Warp speed."The ship collected itself and lurched into warp.Excelsior's communications switchedto subspace."No way, Kirk," Styles said. "We'llmeet you coming back! Prepare for warp speed! Standby transwarp drive!"Damned showoff, Sulu thought. Excelsior couldcatch the Enterprise with warp speed alone; withtranswarp it would overshoot its quarry and, indeed,have to come back to meet it.As the Enterprise struggled toward the Mutarasector, Sulu aimed the visual sensors aft.On the viewscreen, the tiny point of light that wasExcelsior shone white behind them. Scott watchedwith a selfsatisfied smirk. Suluglanced at Scott, and wondered.Excelsior's aura blue-shifted as the newship accelerated toward them.The blue-shift died, and the ship's light reddenedas the Enterprise accelerated away from it. Sulu'ssensors revealed Excelsior to be intact, butwithout power. He 202. .The Search For Spockfelt more than a little ambivalent about what washappening."Excelsior is adrift in space," he said.When Captain Styles' call for a tow camethrough from Excelsior, Uhura intercepted anddamped it, feeling considerable satisfaction.Take over Hikaru's ships will you? she thought.You can just sit there and stew for a while."Commander, let me out of here!"She ignored Heisenberg's shouts and hispounding on the door, until she was afraid he wasmaking so much noise that someone else would come along andhear him."Heisenberg!" she shouted. "Shut up!""Let me out! What the hell is going on?""If you don't be quiet I'll usethis phaser on you!" She continued working. Some of thesafeguards had come into play against her. Eachnew disruption was increasingly difficultto accomplish. Tracers had already been sent out. Shehad only a few minutes left before she must flee,if she were to complete one finalself-appointed task before the authoritiescaught up with her. She did not doubt that by this time tomorrowshe would be in jail."Commander," Heisenberg said, not shouting this time."What's going on? Maybe I can help."She stopped replying; she had enough already to occupyher attention."Commander Uhura, please, if you'd just told mehisHe sounded sincere, but she did not know him wellenough to know how good an act he could put on. Besides,she needed no help. If he was looking forexcitement, he would surely find it if she lethim out of the closet he would find it for a fewminutes, and 203STAR TREK 111perhaps spend the rest of his life regretting it, ortrying to make up for it. The best thing she could do forhim was leave him where he was. That way, itwould be clear to Starfleet that he had nothing to do withhelping James Kirk steal the Enterprise.Heisenberg might find himself embarrassed to belocked up by an officer whose career was winding down .. . but it would be less embarrassing than acourt-martial.She had done what she could here. She set thetransporter controls on automatic. Starfleetwould be able to trace her by the coordinates on theconsole, but by then she hoped it would not matter."Heisenberg!" she said."What?" he said irritably."Somebody will be along to let you out in a fewminutes. I'm sorry I had to lock you up,Lieutenant. It was for your own good.""Yeah, sure."Uhura stepped up on the transporter anddematerial tilde zed.Mr. Scott paused behind Sulu, at the helm.On the viewscreen, Excelsior dwindled andvanished behind them."I dinna damage thy ship permanently,lad," Scott said softly.Sulu glanced up. What to do to Excelsior hadbeen left up to Scott, and it was arelief for Sulu to know the change was temporary.He nodded, grateful for the reassurance."Mr. Scott," Kirk said, "you're as good asyour word.""Aye, sir. The more they overthink theplumbin', the easier it is to stop up the drain."There are always a few flaws in a newapplication of technology, Sulu thought.The Search For Spock"Here, doctor," Scott said to McCoy. Hetook his hand out of his pocket and handed McCoy adull grey wafer. "A souvenirs as one surgeonto another."McCoy accepted it. His hand shook slightly.He clearly had no idea what it was."I took it out o' Excelsior's maintranswarp computer," Scott said. "I knewStyles surely wouldna be able to resist trying itout.""Nice of you to tell me in advance," McCoysaid.Kirk hooked his arm over the back of his commandchair. "That's what you get for missing staffmeetings, doctor," he said. Hesurveyed the bridge, taking in everyone."Gentlemen, your work today was outstanding. I intend torecommend you all for promotion." His voiceturned wry as he added, "In whatever fleet weend up serving."Sulu caught Chekov's glance."In fleet of ore-carriers of AntaresPrison Mine," Chekov said, only loud enough forSulu to hear.Kirk stood and laid his hand on Sulu'sshoulder."Best speed to Genesis, Mr. Sulu,"Kirk said.Uhura had never visited the Vulcanembassy. The stately building stood in agenteelneighborhood in the city, on a hilltopoverlooking the sea. The ocean was black and silverin the dark; the moon was one night past full.Uhura materialised on the sidewalk in frontof the ambassador's residence, for it was protectedagainst penetration by unauthorized transporter beams.She walked into the pool of light around the gate andpressed the buzzer."Yes?" The video screen tuckeddiscreetly into a recess in the stone pillar remainedfeatureless. The tiny camera next to it, poin tingdirectly at her, was surely in use.STAR TREK 111"I would like to speak with Ambassador Sarek,"she said."The ambassador cannot see visitors this evening.You may make an appointment andreturn during reception hours.""But it's urgent," Uhura said."What is your request?""It's private," she said, remembering howreticent Spock had always been about hisbackground and his family."Sarek is occupied," the faceless voice said."I cannot disturb him unless I know your name and yourbusiness.""I am Commander Uhura, from the starshipEnterprise, was she said. "You may tellAmbassador Sarek that my business . . .concerns Genesis.""Wait," said the emotionless voice.She waited.She could feel the minutes tickingaway, minutes during which her trail would be traced.She knew the process well enough to be ableto estimate just how quickly the trace could be done, andwhen that amount of time had passed she began to listen for theshining satin sound of a transporter beam. Fogrolled in from the sea. She shivered.She touched the signal button again."We respectfully request that you wait." Thevoice had so little inflection that she wondered if itcame from a machine, and a machine poorlyprogrammed for Standard at that."I'll be forced to go, soon," she said. "If Ican't see Sarek I must leave him a message butI'd prefer to speak to him in private. It willonly take a moment!""Please contain your emotions."She wanted to kick the gatepost, that was howThe Search For Spockcontained her emotions were. But she knew it would doher no good, and probably break her foot aswell.She heard a transporter beam, very near. Shepressed herself against the stone gatepost, trying to concealherself in the shadows. She could not hide from thematerialising security team for long. She hadconsidered transporting to some other location andproceeding here on foot, but they would have deduced whereshe was heading. They probably would have arrived before shedid.She pressed the call-button again."We respectfully request that you wait," theflat voice said again."I'm about to be taken," she said. "Pleasetell Sarek hisThe gates swung slowly open. The distance to theresidence was about a hundred meters, and the hundredmeters was her distance. Sheplunged inside just as the security team reachedher. They chased her across the dark grounds of theVulcan embassy. She outraced them to theresidence, to no avail. The door remainedclosed. She turned.One of the security officers strode up the stairsand took her arm."Please come with us, Commander. It'll be a loteasier if you don't make any fuss.""I'll come with you if you'll just give me tenminutes to speak with Ambassador Sarek. It'sdesperately important!"The security officer shook her head. "I'msorry," she said. "That's impossible. It'sdirectly against orders."She led Uhura down the stairs and halfwayback to the gate."Do your orders include invading the sovereignterritory of an allied power?"STAR TREK 111Sarek had crossed the distance between them and the widesteps of the embassy with such long and silent stridesthat no one had seen him approach. His commandingpresence wasaccentuated by his long black cape, his drawn,intense features, his dark and deepset eyes.To Uhura he looked as if he had neither eatennor slept since word of Spock's death reachedhim.The head of the security team blushed scarlet,knowing she had overstepped her authority. She put thebest face on it that she could."That was not our intention, sir," she said. "Severalpeople from the last mission of the Enterprise have shown. . .evidence of severe mental difficulties. We'retrying to get them to treatment. If you'llgive me leave to take Commander Uhura to thehospital his"I will do no such thing. Commander Uhura hasrequested political asylum, and I have grantedit. I give you leave to remove yourselves from theembassy grounds."The security officer stood her ground and spoketo Uhura. "Commander, is this what you want? It couldmean exile. But we might all be able to get out ofthis pretty clean. If I give you your tenminutes off the record will you come with us?"Ubura considered it, but she had burned too manybridges today."No," she said. "I'm staying here."The security commander took a deep breath and letit out slowly. "Very well." She turned to Sarek."My government will contact youimmediately with a formal request for extradition.""That is up to your government. Good evening."The security commander led the team from the grounds of theembassy, and the gate closed behind them.The Search For Spock"Thank you, sir," Uhura said. She was shiveringviolently. "I came to tell you his"Come inside, Commander," he said. "There is noneed to stand in the cold and the damp . . . and inpublic . . . for our conversation."Kruge materialised on the surface of theGenesis world, near enough to the high-order life signsto track them, but far enough away that they would remainignorant of his arrival, and he could come upon themunawares. At his side, Warrigul appeared,shivering with excitement and whining, but whining almostsoundlessly. The beast had been trained to recognizepotential combat and to behave in a suitable manner.If Kruge ordered Warrigul to attack, theattack would be silent.The commander inspected the glade as his serjeant andcrew member materialised behind him. The placepleased him, with-its dark earth smelling of mould, thetall-stalked plants that bore drooping, leatheryleaves, the heat and actinic brightness of the brilliantnew sun.Kruge pulled out his tricorder and scanned withit. He located the metallic mass around which so muchactivity had lately centered. It lay deeper inthe glade, perhaps fifty paces. Some minor lifesigns surrounded it, but the signs lacked the highorder that would betray the presence of theprisoners he hoped to take. Still, they had beenthere, so there he would go too, and pick up theirtrail.He set off between the gnarled stalks of the leatherplants. Warrigul padded along at his side; theserjeant and the crew member brought up the rear.- The ground began to quiver. Kruge stopped.Thequake intensified, till the leather plants allswayed andthumped together with a low and hollow sound. ASTAR TREK Infrond broke away from its stalk, making aheavy liquid crunching noise, and the long thickleaf thudded to the ground like some dying thing at the dead-endof its evolution.As the earthquake reached its peak, Kruge hearda long and high-pitched hissing shriek, like nothing hehad ever heard before. He started toward the noise,striding steadily across the rocking surface. Hemade note, for future use, of the fact that his twosubordinates did not follow him till the quakeceased and he was a good twenty paces ahead of them.Only Warrigul stayed with him.He nearly stumbled over his pet when itstopped short, took a step backward, andgrowled.The thick gray-green vegetation thinnedslightly, letting a sharp white column ofsunlight pierce the canopy to illuminate theFederation torpedo casing that had engendered so muchinterest.All around its base, like the monsters in the storyof Ngarakkani, a myth of Kruge's people, writheda great mass of sleek scaled creatures. Thecreatures saw him, or smelled him, or felt thevibration of his footsteps, and rose up in amany-headed tangle to hiss and scream.Kruge heard the sergeant whisper aprotective curse. Kruge smiled to himself,gestured to Warrigul to sit and stay, and strodetoward the casket. He ignored all but the largestof the creatures, which had squirmed to the top of thetorpedo tube and coiled there. It raised its head,weaved toward him and away, hissed, andsquealed a challenge. It reached as high as hisshoulder.He stepped into its sudden strike and grasped itsthroat, then drew it from the slithering groupand raised it up to inspect it. It twisted in hishands. Seveothers coiled around his boots. He ignored them,as he ignored his two companions, though he wasaware of 210The Search For Spockeverything, most particularly including the impressionthe scene must be making. Iike the heroNgarakkani, he would wrestle with the demons anddefeat them.The creature whipped its long lashing tail aroundhis neck and began to squeeze. Kruge thoughtto unwind it from him, but its strength exceeded his. Theharsh scales of its belly cut into his throat,squeezing the breath out of him. Darkness slippedslowly down around him.The creature had tricked him into going on thedefensive. He let its body tighten around him;he turned to the attack. He grabbed its throat withboth his hands and squeezed. He began to twist.He heard its bones begin to crunch. As hebegan to lose consciousness, its strength suddenlydissipated and it sagged away from him.He cast the limply writhing body to the ground.His subordinates gazed upon him withawe. He intensified their reaction by ignoring it.He tsked to Warrigul, who leapt up and sprangto his side, snarling at the twitching body of thecreature.Kruge pulled out his communicator."Torg," he said easily, "I have found nothingof consequence. I am continuing the search."- David sat forlornly on a stoneoutcropping. Hisworld spread out around his vantage point. It wasbeautiful. It was strange, and growing stranger. Itwasdestroying itself. The vines back on RegulusI had beena warning that he should have heeded, as he should have heededthe rogue equation in the primary Genesisdescription. Evolution was running wild . Eachspecieswas growing and changing and aiming for its own extinction,without creating any diversity, any new forms,to take over when the old died out. Not that itmuch mattered. If his estimates were right, theevolu211STAR TREK Intionary process would be only abouthalf done when the more violent geologicalprocesses tore the whole planet apart. Soonafter that, the subatomic attractions would breakdown, and the entire mass of what had been the MutaraNebula, what had been Genesis and its new starsystem, would degenerate into a homogeneous, gaseousblob, a fiery, structureless plasmaprotomatter.His shadow stretched far down the hillside as thesun set behind him. Night approached, a darkborder overwhelming day. It reached the edge ofSpock's glade. The group of delicatefern-trees had grown and coarsened, turning from apatch of feathery emerald green to a smudge ofbulbous gray, just in the few hours since he hadleft it.He and Saavik had found a vantage point, butso far David had detected no sign of otherintelligent life. His tricorder showed nothing, butit was of limited range. He had heard nothing overhis communicator; if anyone else had fledGrissom before it was shot down, they were asreluctant to broadcast their presence to theirattackers as was David. Perhaps they were listeningto each other's static.More likely, no one else had survived. Butuntil he was sure, he was keeping his communicatorset to the Federation emergency channel.Night fell quickly on Genesis. The land below thepromontory had grown too dark for David to seeanyone, friendly or malevolent. Darknessobscured' everything, even the field of silver icenow covering the desert, nearly surrounding the glade,and grinding away at the base of the mountain itself.David rose and trudged back up the hill.Gnarled black trees with twisting exposed rootsloomed over him, and great broken slabs of stoneprojected from the ground. SoonThe Search For Spockhe reached the narrow, hidden cave they had stumbledupon.He stepped inside, expecting the pale steadyillumination of the camp light from Saavik's kit.Instead he encountered darkness."Saavik ?" he whispered, but before her name hadpassed his lips she had uncovered the light again.She held her phaser aimed straight at him. Shelet her hand fall."Your footsteps . . . soundeddifferent," she said, in explanation and apology.She put the phaser away again. "This place ismost discomforting."The Vulcan child whimpered. He lay huddled ona bed of tree branches, his face to the stone wall.Saavik had laid her coat over him. Sheturned to him, touched his shoulder, and said a word ortwo of comfort. David did not speak the languageshe was using, but he recognised it when he heard it."Why are you talking to him in Vulcan?" he said.Saavik shrugged. "I know it is not logical.I know he cannot understand, but he would not understand any otherlanguage, either, and Vulcan is . . . the firstlanguage Spock taught me."David glanced at the child. "It's hard to think ofhim as Spock," he said."He is only a part of Spock. He is thephysical part. The mind exists only inpotential. He might perhaps become a reasoningbeing, with time and teaching. He is not so different from whatI was when . . . when he found me a scavenger,illiterate certainly, almost completelyinarticulate . . ."She shivered. He sat down next to her and puthis arm across her shoulders. "You're cold.""I choose not to perceive cold," she said. Shedid not respond to his embrace..,STAR TREK IllThe child suddenly cried out. David glanced upapprehensively, for they were beneath tons of stone. Thegentle quake that followed the cry left the caveundisturbed, but the child moaned in pain. Saavikslid from beneath David's arm and went to the boy'sside to tuck the black cloth and her maroonjacket more closely in around him."Sleep," she said softly, in Vulcan.David pulled out his tricorder and made a quickgeological scan. The results gave him nocomfort."This planet is aging in surges," he said."And Spock with it," Saavik said quietly.David glanced at her, then at the boy, who hadflung himself over."My gods was David said.An hour before, the child had had theappearance of a boy of eight or ten. Now helooked more like a thirteen-or fourteen-year-old."The child and the world are joined together,"Saavik said. She looked at David steadily,as if wishing or daring him to interpret events in adifferent way.David had nothing to say that would give her, orhimself, any comfort. He nodded."The Genesis wave is like a clock ticking .. . or a bomb," he said. "For him and for theplanet. And at the rate things are going . . .""How long?" Saavik asked. She thought that ifthey must die, sooner would be less painful thanlater. But though she accepted the logic of thatconclusion, she was not yet ready to stop fighting for everyinstant of life left to her."Days . . . maybe hours," David said."It's a chaotic system, Saavik. Which variablewill pass the energy threshold and cause everythingto disintegrate into protomatter . . ." He shookhis head. "It's completely unpredictable." Helooked away, and then, in such aThe Search For Spocklow tone that Saavik almost did not hear him, hesaid, "I'm sorry."She nodded, accepting both his verdict and hisgrief."It will be hardest on Spock," she said."Soon . . . he will feel the burning of hisVulcan blood.""I don't understand," David said.I should not have spoken of pon farr, she thought. Itis not logical to burden David with one more thing aboutwhich he can do nothing. No one has ever found a wayto free Vulcan men of the loss of emotional andphysical control they endure every seventh year of theiradult lives.She was saved from having to choose between anexplanation and a lie by the abrupt querulous bleatingof David's tricorder.He pulled the instrument out and frowned over thelife signs."Whoever they are," he said, "they're gettingcloser."Saavik estimated one chance in a thousand that otherrefugees from Grissom caused the signs, andfive to ten chances in a thousand that whoever was trackingthem had other thanmalicious intent. In all the otherpossibilities, the beings who had destroyedGrissom sought Saavik and David in orderto inflict the same fate upon them. Still . .. a chance, even if it were the chance to become aprisoner, was better odds than the certain death theyfaced by remaining on Genesis.Saavik stood up. "I will go his"No!" David said sharply. "I'll do it.Give me your phaser."Saavik did not want David, untrained ashe was, to go out alone on a spy mission. Sheglanced at the Vulcan boy. She did not wantto leave him alone, either, and she particularly did notwant to leave David alone with him. She realisedit would be marginally less 215STAR TREK llldangerous, for David, if he were to go spying onthe unknown entity.And she could see that his guilt impelled himto undertake the mission. She offered him her phaser.He touched her hand, took the weapon, and hurriedout into the darkness.A moment later the Vulcan child cried out inagony, just before the ground began to tremble.Chapter 10The Enterprise sped free through space.,Excelsior lay far behind, still waitingfor a tow. The communications channels were justbeginning to come clear again. Kirk wondered ifUhura was all right. She was levelheaded. WhenSecurity came to the transporter station she shouldsimply have thrown up her hands and surrendered. Butaccidents could happen, and Kirk could not help butworry. Nevertheless he was grateful to her, for withouther help he might have the whole fleet converging onhim. The one thing he knew he could not do, evento save McCoy's sanity and Spock's soul, wasfire on another Starfleet ship."Estimating Genesis 2.9 hours, presentspeed," Sulu said."Can we hold speed, Scotty?" Kirkasked."Aye, sir, the Enterprise has its secondwind now.""Scan for vessels in pursuit," Kirk said.STAR TREK Ill"Scanning . . ." The voice was an eeriefacsimile of Spock's. "Indications negativeat this time."Kirk turned toward the science station. McCoy,at Spock's old place, looked up andblinked."Did I . . . get it right . . . ?" heasked."You did great, Bones," Kirk said. "Justgreat.""Sir, Starfleet is calling Grissom again,"Chekov said. "Warning about us.""Response?"Chekov glanced worriedly at his console."Nothing. As before.""What's Grissom up to?" Kirk said. "Willthey join us, or fire on us?" he said, halfto himself. "Mr. Chekov, break radio silence.Send my compliments to Captain Esteban.""Aye, sir."Kirk rose and went to McCoy's side."How we doing?" he said.McCoy gave him a thoughtful and slightlysardonic glance, the look of a doctor whorecognises a bedside manner when it is beinginflicted upon him."How are we doing?" he said. "Funny youshould put it quite that way, Jim." He paused, asif listening to a second conversation. "We are doingfine. But I'd feel safer giving him oneof my kidneys than getting what's scrambled upin my brain.""Admiral," Chekov said, "there is noresponse from Grissom on any channel.""Keep trying, Mr. Chekov. At regularintervals."Carol Marcus hurried up the steps of the tallVictorian house and knocked on the door. Shewaited apprehensively, looking back over thesmall town of Port Orchard. Beyond it, watersparkled slate-grey and silver in the autumnsun. The chilly salt air fluttered against therhododendrons that grew all around theThe Search For Spockporch. They were heavily laden with the buds of nextyear's flowers. She had hoped to see them inbloom, in the spring. But if that had still beenpossible, she would not have had to come here now, allalone.The door opened. Carol turned, still dazzledby sunlight on the sea."I'm terribly sorry not to arrive when I saidI would I got lost," she said. "I have somethingto give to Del March's family, but Icouldn't find the address, I ended up in a park wasShe stopped suddenly. She was practically babbling."I'm sorry," she said more calmly. "I'mCarol Marcus.""Come in." Vance's mother took Carol's hand andled her inside. Her voice possessed the samelow, quiet timbre as Vance's. Her hand inCarol's felt frail. "I'm AquilaMadison, and this is Terrence Laurier, Vance'sfather."Both Vance's parents were tall and slender, as hehad been. Carol had expected them to be about her ownage, for Vance had been only a few years olderthan David. But they were both considerably olderthan she, perhaps as much as twenty years. Aquila'sclosecropped curly hair was iron-grey.Terrence wore his longer, tied at the back of hisneck, but it, too, had gonesalt-and-pepper from its original black.A leaded glass door opened from the foyer.Terrence and Aquila showed Carol into their livingroom. It was a high-ceilinged, airy place,carpeted with antique Oriental rugs. Aquilaand Terrence sat side by side on a couch in frontof the tall windows. Carol sat facing themand wondered what to say to them, how to start."Del never did outgrow that joke," Aquilasaid."I thought I'd written the address downwrong," Carol said. "Do you mean he meant people to goto a park?"STAR TREK 111"NO, my dear," Aquila said, "he meant peopleto think they'd written the address down wrong.""I don't understand. Where does his familylive?""He has none," Terrence said. "None he'lladmit to, anyway.""Then where did he live?""He lived here," Aquila said."What you have to understand about Del," Terrence said,"is that he made up nearly everything about himself hisname, his home, the relatives that only existed in acomputer file, his background before he was twelveeverything.""But his records," Carol said. "In this day andage his"He didn't need too much," Terrence said."Not here a false address, a fewcounterfeit relatives and school records. Hehad an uncanny rapport with computers, and the voicesynthesiser he built stood in for an adult aslong as nobody asked to meet it face to face.He was so young no one thought to be suspicious ofhim.""As it was, he and Vance had been friends for a yearbefore Terrence and I realised just how odd some of the oddthings about him were. Vance knew, but he couldn'tpersuade Del to trust us.""How did you find out?""I tried to go to his house once," Terrencesaid. "I went out all fired up with the intention of eitherjumping down somebody's throat for never getting thekid any decent clothes, or offering to get him somemyself.""When we finally found out where he wasliving it was an abandoned house we persuaded himto move in here. We have plenty of room."Aquila made a quick gesture with one hand,indicating the house, the surroundings.The Search For SpockCarol found herself already under the spell of Terrenceand Aquila's home. It had thecomfortable and comforting ambiance of a place lived in by peoplewho loved each other, of a place lived in and caredforand cared about by the same people for a long time. Vance hadtold her that the Madisons, Aquila's family,were some of the first black landholders in the area. Herancestors had settled here three hundred yearsago, long before the Federation, even before the region hadbeen admitted to statehood in the previouspolitical entity."Did you adopt him?""We wanted to. But he was terrified that if wefound his people and asked them to give up legal custody,they'd make him go back. Arguing didn't do anygood hisCarol nodded. She had been in a fewarguments with Del March.was and besides, he might have been right.""We didn't press him about it. We wereafraid he might run away from us, too, and we werealready very fond of him. Though he could be quitetrying. his"He did have a reputation for being. . . a littlewild," Carol said."In college, yes," Aquila said. "Oncehe was of age and didn't have to fear beingshipped back to whatever he was running from he didn'thave to be careful never to attract any attention. Hedid get . . . "a little wild." We wereawfully worried about him for a few years. So wasVance . . .""I didn't get to know him as well as I shouldhave," Carol admitted. "We just never got off onthe right foot. He and my son David were veryclose, though." Carol reached into her pack and drewout a roll of parchment. PI think you should have this. ItwasSTAR TREK 111Del's he kept it on the wall of his office.And Vance made it."Aquila unrolled the parchment. In his strong,even calligraphy, Vance had copied sevenstanzas of Lewis Carroll's "The Hunting of theSnark. was Those were the stanzas from which Madison andMarch had taken the terminology for thesubelementary particles they had described anddiscovered. Carol remembered the end of the poem "Foralthough common Snarks do nomanner of harmea/yet I feel it my duty tosay/some are Boojums 79Aquila and Terrence read it over. Aquilasmiled, brushed her fingertips across the parchment, andread it a second time. Terrence raised his head.He and Carol looked at each other. They could nolonger avoid talking about Vance."I loved your son," Carol said. "I don'tknow if he told you, about us his"Of course he did," Aquila said. "We werelooking forward to your vacation next spring, we werehoping you would come with him when he visited.""I would have. He told me so much about you . . .Aquila, Terrence, he was such anextraordinary man. I'm so sorry was She hadto stop. If she said any more, she would start to cryagain."Carol," Terrence said, "what happened out there?We never thought Vance would work on a militaryproject his"It wasn't!" Carol said. "Oh, it wasn't!It was supposed to be just the opposite."She told them about the project, and the least painfulversion of their son's and their foster son's deaths thatshe could without Iying to them. But it still came down to theSpacelab team's being caught in the middle ofsomeone else's quarrel.The Search For SpockWhen she finished, her voice shaking, Terrence andAquila were desperately holding each other'shands. Carol stood up. She did not wantto inflict her own grief on them anymore, and shethought they might want to be alone."I wish I wish I could have met you nextspring. I'm so sorry . . . I'd better go."Aquila rose. "That's foolish, Carol.It's a long trip back, and it's nearly dark."It was a long trip back. Port Orchard was ahistorical reference site, so it was against the rulesto beam in. The only way to get here was by ferry orground car."We had already planned for you to stay over,"Terrence said.When she realised they meant it, Carol agreed,not only because of the long trip. She was grateful to themsimply for making the offer, grateful to them for nothating her, and glad to be able to spend more time in thecompany of two people who reminded her so strongly of theperson she had loved.Saavik started awake, unable to believe she hadfallen asleep, and, at the same time,unsure what had awakened her. She stood up andlooked out over Genesis at night. Here and thereacross the land faint lights, like the shadows of ghosts,drifted between twisted trees.It is merely bioluminescence, Saavik thought.What the humans call fox-fire, and Romulanscall devil-dogs. And Vulcans? What doVulcans call it? No doubt they speak of it inchemical formulae, as no doubt so should I.She was standing on the rocky promontory that thrustout below the cave mouth. She had come out here to keepwatch, and because she was afraid herSTAR TREK 111exhausted restlessness might wake the Vulcan child.Genesis had permitted itself a short respite betweenits convulsions, and the boy had drifted off into his firstpainless sleep.Saavik's tricorder beeped again, and sherealized how long David had been gone. Sheconsidered, decided to take the chance of transmitting,and opened her communicator."Saavik to David." She waited. "Come in,David."Only static replied. She closed thecommunicator quickly, more worried than she caredto admit, for worry was not only an emotion, but acompletely unproductive use of energy.A low, moaning cry came from the cave.Saavik braced herself against the inevitable groundtremor that echoed the child's pain. Rocks clattereddown the hillside. Saavik sprinted for the caveentrance, dodging boulders and raising her arms to wardoff a rain of gravel. The huge trees rocked andgroaned.She stopped just inside the cave. The boy huddledagainst the wall as if he could draw in its coolness andtake upon himself a stony calm. His musclesstrained so taut they quivered, though the earthquakehad faded. This paroxysm had nothing to do with theconvulsions of the dying world."Spock," she said softly.Startled, he flung himself around to face her.He had changed again. Before, she could see himonly as a Vulcan child. Now she could see in himher teacher, her mentor Spock. He was younger thanwhen she first encountered him. But he was Spock.The fever burned in his face and in his eyes. Hefought what he could not understand. Hestruggled to gain some control over his bodyand his world.Saavik knew that he would fail."So it has come," she said to him in Vulcan.She 224The Search For Spockmoved closer to him, speaking quietly. "It iscalled pon farr. ,,He could not understand her words, but her tone calmedhim."Will you trust me, my mentor, my friend?" I knowit is no longer you, she thought, but I will help you ifI can, because of who you used to be.The sound of his labored breathing filled the cave.She knelt beside him. She was not certain that anythingshe could do would ease his pain. They were not formallypledged, psychically linked.His body was so fevered she could feel the heat, sofevered it must burn him. She touched his hand and felthim flinch as a thread of connection formed between them. Sheguided his right hand against hers, then put her left handto his temple. His unformed intelligence met hertrained mind, and she used the techniques he hadtaught her it seemed so long ago, in another lifeto soothe his fear and confusion. Saavik felt thetangled tautness of his body beginto relax.Spock reached up and gently touched hercheek. His fingers followed the upward stroke ofher eyebrow, then curved down to caress hertemple, as Saavik met the gaze of hisgold-flecked brown eyes.The viewscreen wavered with the Enterprise'schange of state from warp speed to sub-light. Thenew star and its single planet spun where only afew days before the Mutara Nebula filled spacewith dense dustclouds. Despite everything, JimKirk remained taken by the world's beauty."We are secured from warp speed," Sulu said."Now entering the Mutara sector. Genesisapproaching.""What about Grissom, Mr. Chekov?" Kirkasked."Still no response, sir."Sulu increased the magnification of the viewscreenSTAR TREK illand put a bit of the ship's limited extra powerto the sensors, but he could find no trace ofGrissom, either."Bones," Kirk said tentatively,"can you Eve me a quadrant bi-scan?"He glanced back at McCoy. The doctorhunched unmoving over Spock's station. After amoment he spread his hands in frustration and defeat."I think you just exceeded my capability . . .""Never mind, Bones." Kirk gesturedto Chekov. "Mr. Chekov his"Yes, Admiral." Chekov joined McCoyand took over."Sorry," McCoy said shakily."Your time is coming, Doctor. Mr. Sulu,proceed at full impulse power.""Full impulse power," Sulu said."There is no sign of ship, Admiral,"Chekov said. "Not Grissom, not . . . anything.""Very well, Mr. Chekov. Continue scanning."Kirk rose and joined McCoy."You all right?" he asked softly."I don't know, Jim," McCoy said."He's . . . gone, again. I can feel him, it'salmost as if I can talk to him. But then he slipsaway. For longer and longer, and when he . . . comesback . . . my sense of him is weaker."Kirk frowned. McCoy had not added that he,too, felt weaker, but he did not have to.It was obvious to Kirk that the doctor's strength wasslowly draining away."Keep hold of him, Bones," he said."Keep hold of yourself. We're almost there."Saavik smoothed Spock's tangled hair.The fever had broken, the compulsion had left him.He slept, and he 226The Search For Spockwould live. She wondered if she had done him aldndness by saving his life. He was still completelyvulnerable to the convulsions of Genesis, which would continueto torture him.She sighed. She had done what she thought was right.She was terribly worried about David. He shouldhave returned long ago. She drew out hercommunicator and opened it, but on second thought putit away. Spock would sleep for some time, so she couldsafely leave him alone. It would be better for allof them if Saavik sought David without using hercommunicator andadvertising their presence. She rose and started for thecave entrance.She heard something footsteps. This cursed worldmade sounds difficult to identify accurately, atask she would have found ridiculously easyanywhere else. Hoping it was David but believing itwas not, she pressed herself against the cave wall.A great dark shape filled the entrance. The talland massive humanoid figure carried a sensorthat sought out his quarry.A Klingon tildeWhile he still stood blinking in the darkness,Saavik launched herself at him. If she couldovercome him and escape into the woods with SpockRoaring with fury, he spun, knocking her backagainst the cave wall. His bones were so heavy and hismuscles so thick that she could barely get a graspon him, even on his wrist. He flung his armsaround her and began to squeeze, shouting angrily in adialect of Klingon that she did not understand. Shestruggled, pressing her hands upward. Klingons haddifferent points ofvulnerability than humans, who were different againfrom Vulcans and Romulans. She broke hisgrasp 227STAR TREK 111for an instant and smashed her fists into the sides ofhis jaw. He staggered backward, dazed by thetransmission of energy from the maxilla into the skull.Saavik heard laughter.Two of his comrades had followed him into the cave.They stood beside Spock, who sat watching,half-awake and confused. Both were armed; they heldtheir weapons aimed at Spock. They taunted heragain in a dialect she did not know, but the meaning wasclear Get him, little one, beat him if you can, andwe will laugh at him for the rest of the trip. Beat himand lose anyway, because we hold your friend hostage.She stepped back, spreading her hands in agesture of surrender.Enraged by the others' mockery, her opponentrushed at her with a raging curse. He struck her aviolent backhand blow that flung her against the cavewall.The impact knocked her breath from her. Shesagged against the stone, her knees collapsing. Shepressed herself against the cave wall, barely managingto hold herself upright.Her opponent snapped a harsh reply to hislaughing companions, dragged Saavik's wrists behindher back, twisted her arms, and pushed her forward outof the cave. The other two pulled Spock to hisfeet and roughly hurried him outside.Saavik stumbled down the rocky trail to thepromontory. Dawn lay scarlet overGenesis, turning the trees a deep andoppressive maroon. Overnight the thick gnarledtrunks had sprouted tens of thousands of spindly,barbed branches that flailed at the people passing beneaththem. A thorn caught in Saavik's shirt andtore it. Another tangled in her hair. Shetried to look back, to see if Spock were allright. With only the 228The Search For Spockshroud to wrap around him, he was terriblyvulnerable. But her captor forced her faster down thetrail. The branches thrashed and clattered, as ifwhipped by a violent wind.But there was no wind.Even the stones had changed. The sharp thrust of thepromontory was rounded, smoothed, and darkened with apatina of age that implied a thousand years oferosion. A Klingon officer stood upon it in anattitude of possession, gazing out over the forestbelow. A creature stood at his side.His hunting party flung Saavik and Spockroughly down behind him.Saavik lay still, clenching her fingers in the dirtand struggling to control her anger. If she surrenderedto the madness now, she could only bring deathto them all.The commander turned slowly."So!" he said. He spoke in Standard, but hisfaint accent did nothing to disguise hisimpatience. "I have come a long way for the power ofGenesis. And what do I find?"He gestured sharply as Saavik pushed herselfto her knees.The rest of his landing party dragged David forward andshoved him down. He sprawled on the stone besideSaavik. She gasped at the dark bruises on hisface, the blood on his mouth, the scratches andwelts on his arms and hands. He looked ashamed.She wanted to touch him, she wanted to protect himfrom any more pain, but she knew if she betrayed anyconcern for him their captors would use it against them."What do I find?" the commander said again. "Threechildren! III'-BRED children, at that. It's only whatone might expect of humans, but you, and you was 229STAR TREK 111He glared at Saavik, then at Spock, andthen he laughed. "So much for Vulcan restraint,"he said.His creature echoed his laugh with a growling whine.Saavik rose to her feet, very slowly,her rage so great she trembled."My lord," she said. Her voice was so calm, socold, that it astonished her. "We are survivorsof a doomed expedition. This planet will destroy itselfin hours. The Genesis experiment is afailure.""A failure!" The commander laughed with every evidenceof sincere good humor. "The most powerfuldestructive force ever created, and you call it afailure ?" He took one step forward. Sauvikhad to raise her head to look at him. He was headand shoulders taller than she. "What would you considera success, child?" Hechuckled. "You will tell me the secrets ofGenesis.""I have no knowledge of them," Saavik said."Then I hope pain is something you enjoy," hesaid.Saavik was accustomed to being taken at her word, butshe knew she could not hope for that courtesy from theenemy commander. Genesis had taken six primaryinvestigators plus a laboratory full ofsupport personnel eighteen months of solid workand all their lifetimes of experience to create. Evenif Saavik had belonged to the team, she wouldnot be able to say, in a few simple words, howto recreate their project.The Klingon serjeant hurried forward with an opencommunicator. The commander cut off his words."I ordered no interruptions!""Sir!" said a voice from the communicator."Federation starship approaching!"Saavik and David caught each other's glance,hardly daring to hope.The commander glared a t them, as if they had calledThe Search For Spockthe starship to them at this particular moment, simplyto frustrate him."Bring me up!" he said. And to his landing party,"Guard them well."He and his creature vanished in a dazzle oflight.Kruge reformed on board his ship and strode to thebridge. Torg saluted him and gestured to theviewport."Battle alert!" Kruge said. As the bridgeerupted into activity around him, he folded his armsacross his chest and observed theConstellation-class Federation starship thatsailed slowly toward him. He smiled.It was his, as firmly in his possession as thethree child-hostages on the surface of Genesis.Warrigul pressed up against his leg. Krugereached down and scratched his creature's head.Warrigul hissed with pleasure.The Enterprise's search for Grissom continuedfruitlessly. Kirk wondered if, somehow, it hadfinished its work and headed back to Earth. Travellingat warp speed, they might easily have missed it.No doubt David was back homealready, having coffee with Saavik. Or laughing withhis mother about that lunatic James Kirk, rushing offin a stolen ship on a selfimposed mission that noone else could understand. Kirk pressed the heels ofhis hands against his eyes."Sir was Chekov said."What is it, commander?""I'd swear something was there, sir. . ." Chekovpeered at his instruments, which had flickered with thesensor-signature of a small vessel, but nowstubbornly continued to show absolutely nothing. "But. . . I might have imagined it....""What did you see, Chekov?""For one instant . . . Scout classvessel." 231STAR TREK 111"Could be Grissom, was Kirk said thoughtfully."Patch in the hailing frequency."Chekov did so, and nodded to Kirk."Enterprise to Grissom," Kirk said. "Comein, Grissom. Come in, please.""Nothing on scanner, sir," Chekov said."Short range scan, Mr. Chekov. Giveit all the focus you've got. On screen, Mr.Sulu."Chekov focused the beam, and Sulu switched theviewscreen, which showed nothing but empty space.On the bridge of his fighter, Commander Krugelistened to the Federation ship's unguardedtransmission"I say again, Enterprise to Grissom.Admiral Kirk calling Captain Esteban,Lieutenant Saavik, Dr. Marcus. Come in,Grissom!""Report status," Kruge said, keeping hisvoice offhand, but secretly rejoicing. Kirk!Admiral James T. Kirk, and the Enterprise!If he returned home having vanquished thelegendary Federation hero, and bearingGenesis as well to"We are cloaked," said Torg. "Enemyclosing on impulse power, range five thousand.""Good." Kruge stroked the smooth scales ofWarrigul's crest and murmured to his creature,"This is the turn of luck I have been waitingfor....""Range three thousand," Maltz said."Steady. Continue on impulse power.""Yes, sir!"Kruge noted Torg's intensity, Maltz'suneasiness."Range two thousand.""Stand by, energy transfer to weapons. At mycommand!""Within range, sir."The Search For SpockKruge turned slightly. After a moment, hisnew gunner raised his head and froze, notingKruge's attention."Sight on target, gunner," Kruge said."Disabling only. Understood?""Understood clearly, sir!""Range one thousand, closing.""Wait," Kruge said, as the Enterpriseloomed larger in his viewport. "Wait...."At the same time, Kirk studied the enhancedimage on the viewscreen of the Enterprise."There," he said. "That distortion. Theshimmering area.""Yes, sir," Zulu said. "It's gettinglarger as we close in hiswas And it's dosing on us. Your opinion, Mr.Sulu?""I think it's an energy form, sir.""Yes. Enough energy to hide a ship, wouldn't yousay?""A cloaking device!""Red alert, Mr. Scott!" Kirk said."Aye, sir."The Klingon vessel must have beamed someone onboard. Chekov would have had only a second ortwo to catch a glimpse of the ship. If his attentionhad wandered for a moment . . ."Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, "good work.""Thank you, Admiral."The lights dimmed. The Klaxon alarmssounded a bit redundant, Kirk thought, sinceevery living being on the ship was right here on thebridge."Mr. Scott, all power to the weaponssystem.""Aye, sir."McCoy stood up uneasily. "Noshields?"STAR TREK 111"If my guess is right, they'll have to de-cloakbefore they can fire.""May all your guesses be right," McCoysaid.Kirk tried not to think what the appearance of thisdisguised ship, in place of Grissom, must mean."Mr. Scott two photon torpedoes at theready. Sight on the center of the mass.""Aye, sir."The Enterprise sailed closer and closer to anindefinable spot in space, more perceptible asdifferent if one looked at it from the corner of theeye. The ship was very nearly upon it wheySulu saw it first. "Klingon fighter, sir hisThe Klingon craft appeared before them as aspidery sketch, transparent against the stars, quicklysolidifying.was Arming torpedoes!""Fire, Mr. Scott!"The torpedoes streaked toward the Klingon ship.It was as if their impact solidified the ship whilesimultaneously blasting a section of it away. Thefighter tilted up and back with themomentum of the attack. It began to tumble."Good shooting, Scotty," Kirk said."Aye. Those two hits should stop a horse,let alone a bird. his"Shields up, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said."Aye, sir." He accessed the automation centerand tried to call up the shields.Nothing happened."Sir," he said in concern, "shields areunresponsive."Scott immediately turned to his controls, andKirk turned to Scott."Scatty ?"With a subvocal curse, Scott bent closerover hisThe Search For Spockconsole. "The automation system's overloaded.I dinna expect ye to take us in!combat,ye know!"On the smoke-clouded bridge of his wounded ship,Kruge stumbled over a dim shape and fell to hisknees. He touched the shape in the darknessWarrigul.His beast, which he had owned since he was a youth andWarrigul only a larva, lay dying. Ignoring thechaos of the damaged bridge, Kruge stroked thespines of Warrigul's crest. His pet respondedwith a weak, whimpering growl, convulsed once, andrelaxed into death.Kruge rose slowly, his hands clenched at hissides.Torg's voice barely penetrated the whitewaves of rage that pounded in his ears."Sir the cloaking device is destroyed!""Never mind!" Kruge shouted. There would be no morehiding from this Federation butcher. "Emergency power to thethrusters!""Yes, my lord."The lights on the bridge further dimmed as thethrusters drained the small ship's power, but thetumbling slowed and ceased. The ship stabilised."Lateral thrust!"Torg obeyed, bringing the ship aroundto face the Enterprise again."Stand by, weapons!"Jim Kirk watched the Klingon craft come roundto bear on his ship."The shields, Scotty!"- "I canna do it!""Ready torpedoes was The order came toolate. The enemy ship fired at nearlypoint-blank range. The Enterprise had neither timenor room to maneuver. "Torpedoes coming in!"Kirk cried, bracing himself.The flare of the explosion sizzled through the sen235STAR TREK 111sore. The viewscreen flashed, then darkened. Theship bucked violently. Kirk lost his hold andfell. The illumination failed."Emergency power!"The Enterprzse responded valiantly, but thebridge lights returned at less than halfintensity. McCoy helped Kirk struggle up."I'm all right, Bones." He lunged backto his place. "Prepare to return fire! Mr.Scott transfer power to the phaser banks!""Oh, god, sir, I dinna think I can his"What's wrong?""They've knocked out the damned automation cen-ter!" He smashed his fist against the console. "Iha' no control over anythin'!""Mr. Sulu!"Sulu's gesture of complete helplessness, andChekov's agitated shake of the head, sent Kirksagging back into his chair."So . . ." he said softly. "We're asitting duck."He watched the enemy fighter probe slowlycloser.Kruge, in his turn, watched the silent, powerfulFederation ship drift before him.- "Emergency power recharge," Borg said,"fortypercent. . . fifty percent. My lord, we areable to fire hisKruge raised his hand, halting Torg'spreparations for another salvo."Why hasn't he finished us?" Kruge said.He suspected Kirk wanted to humiliate himfirst. "He outguns me ten to one, he has fourhundred in crew, to my handful. Yet he sitsthere!""Perhaps he wishes to take youprisoner."Kruge scowled at Torg. ""He knows Iwould die first.""My lord," Maltz said, from the communicationsThe Search For Spockboard, "the enemy commander wishes a truceto confer.""A truce!" Kruge's training and betterjudgment restrained his wish to fire, provoke aresponse, and end the battle quickly and cleanly."Put him on screen," he said more calmly, then,to Torg, "Study him well."The transmission from the Enterprise, enhanced andinterpreted, formed Kirk's three-dimensionalimage in the area in front of and slightly belowKruge's command post."This is Admiral James T. Kirk, of theU.s.s. Enterprise. his"Yes," Kruge said, "the Genesis commanderhimself.""By violation of the treaty between theFederation and the Klingon Empire, yourpresence here is an act of war. You have twominutes to surrender your crew and yourvessel, or we will destroy you."Kruge delayed any reply to the arrogantdemand. Kirk was neither ignorant nor a fool.He must know that officers of the Klingon Empire didnot surrender. And no one with a reputation like his could bea fool. Was he trying to provoke anotherattack, so he could ju stify destroying his enemy orincrease his valor in the defeat? Or was there somethingmore?"He's hiding something," Kruge said. "We mayhave dealt him a more serious blow than I thought."Torg looked at him intently, trying to tracehis superior's thoughts. "How-can you tell that, mylord?""I trust my instincts," Kruge said easily.He toggled on the transmitter. "AdmiralKirk, this is your oppo nent speaking. Do notlecture me about treaty violations, Admiral.The Federation, in creating an ultimate weapon,has turned itself into a gang of interstellarcriminals. It is not I who will surrender. It isyou." He 237STAR TREK 111paused to let that sink in, then gambled all ornothing. "On the planet below, I have takenprisoner three members of the team thatdeveloped your doomsday weapon. If you do notsurrender immediately, I will execute them. One at atime. They are enemies of galactic peace."Listening to the transmission with disbelief, Kirkpushed himself angrily from his chair. "Who is this?How dare you to was"Who I am is not important, Admiral.That I have them, is." He smiled, baring his teeth."I will let you speak to them."On the surface of Genesis, far below, the landingparty listened via communicator to the battle and to theinterchange between Kirk and Kruge. Saaviklistened, too, buoyed by the appearance of theEnterprise, disturbed by its failure to instantlydisable and capture the Klingon ship. A Klingonfighter was no match for a vessel of the Constellationclass. Saavik could only conclude that Kirk hadcome back to Genesis before his ship was fullyrepaired. She glanced at Spock, who satwrapped in his black cloak and in exhaustion that wasnearly as palpable. The reports Grissom hadsent back must have brought James Kirk here. Shethen glanced at James Kirk's son, and saw thehope in David's bruised face. Shehoped, in her turn and for all three of them, that hewould not be disappointed.The Klingon commander snapped an order. Theserjeant in charge of the landing party replied with a quickassent and motioned to hisunderlings. They dragged Saavik, David, andSpock to their feet. Spock staggered. His faceshowed hopeless pain. The planet's agony, whichcame to him without warning andfrequently more and more frequently as the hourspassed tortured him brutally.The serjeant thrust his communicatorinto Sauvik's 238The Search For Spockface. His meaning was clear she must speak. Shetried to decide if it would be better to reassureAdmiral Kirk that his son and his friend were alive,or if she should maintain her silence and by doing sowithhold the Klingons" proof that they had prisoners.The serjeant said a single word and Saavik felther arms being wrenched upward behind her back. Shecalled on all her training. Though the leverage forcedher on tiptoe, she neither winced nor cried out.She stared coldly at the serjeant.He clenched the fingers of his free handinto a fist. Saavik did not flinch from him. Hegazed at her steadily, then smiled very slightly andmade a silent motion toward David. The crewmember restraining him twisted his arms pitilessly.David gasped. The serjeant prodded Saavik inthe ribs. He did not need to be able to speak Standardto indicate that he would hurt either or both of her friendsuntil she did his bidding. She closed her eyes andtook a deep breath. She could not bear to bring themany more pain."Admiral," she said, "this is Saavik.""Saavik was Kirk hesitated. "Is . . .David with you?""Yes. He is. As is . . . someone else.A Vulcan scientist of your acquaintance.""This Vulcan is he alive?""He is not himself," Saavik said. "But helives. He is subject to rapid aging, like thisunstable planet."Before Kirk could answer, the serjeant turnedto David and thrust the communicator at him."Hello, sir. It's David.""David was Kirk said. His relief caught inhis voice, then he recovered himself. "Sorry I'mlate," he said."It's okay. I should have known you'd come. ButSaavik's right this planet is unstable. It's goingto destroy itself in a matter of hours."STAR TREK 111"David . . ." Kirk sounded shocked, andgenuinely sorrowful for his son's disappointment."What went wrong?""I went wrong," David said.The silence stretched so long that Saavik wonderedif the communication had been severed."David," Kirk said, "I don't understand.""I'm sorry, sir, it's too complicatedto explain right now. Just don't surrender. Genesisdoesn't work! I can't believe they'll kill us forit hisThe serjeant snatched the communicator fromDavid."David to was Kirk shouted. But when Davidtried to reply, his captor wrenched him back sohard he nearly fainted. Saavik took oneinstinctive step toward him, but she, too, wasrestrained, and for the moment she had no way to resist.The serjeant permitted them to listen to the remainderof Kruge's conversation with AdmiralKirk."Your young friend is mistaken, Admiral,"Kruge said. His voice tightened with the emotions ofanger and desire for revenge. "I meant what Isaid. And now, to show my intentions are sincere . . .I am going to kill one of my prisoners.""Wait!" Kirk cried. "Give me a chance hisSaavik did not understand the order Kruge nextgave to his serjeant that is, she did not understand thewords themselves, which were of a dialect she did not know. Butthe intent was terribly clear. The serjeant lookedat Spock, at David, at Saavik.His gaze and Saavik's locked.The serjeant had been vastly impressed by hiscaptain's offer of final honor to his gunner, andvastly horrified by the gunner's inability to acceptthe offer and carry out the deed. He recognised inSaavik a prideful being. As Kruge had shownmagnanimity toThe Search For Spockthe gunner, the serjeant would show it to this younghalfbreed Vulcan. He would give her the chanceto maintain her honor at her death.He drew his dagger. The toothed andrecurved edges flashed in the piercing light of thesun. He raised it upbbhe offered it to her.Saavik knew what he expected of her. Sheunderstood why he was doing it, and she even understood thatit was meant as a courtesy.But she had never taken any oath to follow hisrules.She raised her hands, preparing to grasp theritual dagger. She could feel the attention of everymember of the landing party. They were so fascinated, soimpressed by their serjeant's tact and taste, that theyhad nearly forgotten their other captives. Saavikwould take the knife then lay about her with it.A"..."com" comthem, cry "Run!" to her friends tildeHiswit to take the champ -"at P."Oyotuhuinderstand7 yOut can n ev tilde hery of them understood her, they did n t b lis Commander didand ordered Saa ik felrteSD'NDIDTHE death"David ,"He reached up. His hand was touched hercheek covered with blood. HeI love you," he said. "And I wish hisso weakk had to bend down to hear him; hi i"I wish we could have seen Vance's dragons wasare no dragOns ,eaSaavik whispered'""David love; the sThreie of the landing pequals Uitggfocus orfrOI-MORE him.tilde nt; (Ja backslash CICU Llltilde lil. tilde A tilde AA BAASAWAY Might escape, too, in-the confusion, butthatFormatter was quite secondary to her responsibilityto David and to Spock.She reached into herself to find the anger that had beenbuilding up for so long, the berserk rage that wouldgive her a moment's invincibility. The fantasti-cally recurved blade of the knife twisted in hervision. Her attention focused to a point as coherentand powerful as a laser. She touched the heft of theknife."No!" David cried. He flung himselfforward, breaking out of the inattentive hold, andplunged between Saavik and the serjeant.It took Saavik a fatal instant to understandwhat had happened.With a snarl of rage, the serjeantplunged the dagger into David's chest."David, no 1"David cried out and collapsed. Saavik wentdownSTAR TREK 111with him, breaking his fall. She held him, tryingto stanch the blood that pulsed between her fingers. She couldnot withdraw the knife, for it was designed to do far moredamage coming out than going in. David graspedweakly at the hilt and Saavik pushed his handsaway."David, lie still hisIf she could just have a moment to help him, a momentto try to meld her consciousness with his, she could givehim some of her strength, some of her ability atcontrolling the body. She knew she could keep himalive."David, stop fighting me hisHe was very weak. He stared upward. She did notthink he could see her. Her own vision blurred.He rather' tilde d to speak. He failed. Shestruggled to make contact his mind, to save him.Ending party. "Don't-" -- 'VithChapter 1 1Pale and tense, Jim Kirk pushed himself from thecommand seat. His fingernails dug into the armrests and hesought desperately for time. The channel from thesurface of Genesis spunconfused voices around him, but the Klingon commandersmiled coolly from the viewscreen, impervious andconfident."Commander!" Kirk shouted."My name," his opponent said, "is Kruge. Ithink it w important, Admiral, that you know whowill defeat you. his"At least one of those prisoners is an unarmedcivilian! The others are members of a scientificexpedition. Scientific, Kruge!""'Unarmed"?" Kruge chuckled. "Your unarmedcivilian and your scientific expedition stand upon thesurface of the most powerful weapon in the universe,which they have created!"The Search For Spockmadness took her. She flung herself backwards,turning. She clamped her hands around the throat of thenearest of her captors . He gagged and choked andclawed at her hands. Sheperceived the blows and shouts but they had no effecton her. She perceived the limpid hum of a phaser andfelt the beam rake over her body. Her fingerstightened. The phaser whined at a higher pitch.Hands clawed at her, trying to break her grip,failing.The phaser howled yet a third time. The soundpenetrated Saavik's blue-white rage, searingher mind from cerebrum to spinal cord.She collapsed to the rocky ground and lostconsciousness.The Search For Spock"Kruge, don't do something you'll regret!""You do not understand, Admiral Kirk. Since youdoubt my sincerity, I must prove it to you. Myorder will not be rescinded." He glanced aside andsnapped a question to someone out of Kirk's view.Kirk heard the beginning of a reply.A cry of agony and despair cut off the words."David!" Jim shouted. "Saavik!"He could make out nothing but the sounds of struggle,anger, and confusion. The transmission jumped andbuzzed Kirk recognised theinterference of a phaser beam, reacting with thecommunicator. He was shaking with helplessness. Theuncertainty stretched on so long that he thought for aninstant of rushing to thetransporter room and beaming into . . .into whatever was happening on the surface ofGenesis. But even in his desperation he knew thathe would be too late.Commander Kruge watched, harsh satisfaction onhis face.Finally the voice transmission from Genesiscleared to silence."I believe I have a message for you,Admiral," Kruge said, and spoke a command to hislanding party.Again there was a delay. Jim could feel the sweattrickling down his sides. A voice came fromGenesis, but it was one of impatient command in adialect of Kruge's people that Kirk had never evenheard before."Saavik . . . David . . ." Kirk said."Admiral . . ."Even when Saavik was angry and Kirk hadseen her angry, though she might have denied it hervoice was level and cool. But now it trembled, andit was full of grief."Admiral, David was Her voice caught."David is dead."STAR-TREK 111Kirk plunged forward as if he could strangleKruge over the distance and the vacuum that separated themby using the sheer force fury gave his will."Kruge, you spineless coward! You'vekilled my son!"At first Kruge did not react, and then heclosed his eyes slowly and opened them again, in anexpression of triumph and satisfaction."I have two more prisoners, Admiral," hesaid. "Do you wish to be the cause of their deaths,too? I will arrange that their fate come to them . . .somewhat more slowly." He let that sink in."Surrender your vessel!""All right, damn you!" Kirk cried. Hesagged back. "All right." He became aware ofMcCoy, at his side. "Give me a minute,to inform my crew."Kruge shrugged, magnanimity in his gesture.But his tone reeked of contempt. "I offer you twominutes, Admiral Kirk," he said, enjoying theirony of turning James Kirk's commandsback upon him. "For you, and your gallant crew."His communication faded. Kirk sat staring at theviewscreen as the image scattered and reformedinto space, stars, the great blue curve of Genesisbelow, and the marauding Klingonfighter."Jim," McCoy said. He took Kirk by theshoulder and gripped it, shaking him gently, tryingto pull him back out of despair. "Jim!"Kirk recoiled from his help. He stared at himfor a moment, hardly seeing him, hardly awareanymore of the reason he had come to this godforsakenspot in space. He knew that if he didsurrender, he would sacrifice the lives of all hisfriends. And he realised, suddenly, that if he gaveKruge the opportunity to tap into the Enterprise'sGenesis records, the informationThe Search For Spockwould lead inevitably to Carol Marcus.Krugemight be bold, but he was not a fool; hecould not threaten Carol directly. But Kirk would bea fool to discount the Empire's network of spies,assassins . . . and kidnappers."Mr. Sulu . . ." he said. "Whatis the crew complement of Commander Kruge's ship?""It's about was Sulu had been thinking of a smart andangry kid, a young man on the brink of realisingan enormous potential, his life drained out into theworld he had tried to make. Sulu forced his voiceto be steady; he forced his attention to the question he hadbeen asked. "A dozen, officers and crew.""And some are on the planet...." Kirk said.He faced his friends, who had risked so muchto accompany him. "I swear to you," he said,"we're not finished yet.""We never have been, Jim," McCoy said."Sulu, you and Bones to the transporter room.Scott, Chekov, with me. We have a job to do."He slapped the comm control. "Enterprise toCommander, Klingon fighter. Stand by to board this shipon my signal.""No tricks, Kirk," Kruge replied."You have one minute.""No tricks," Kirk said. "I'm . . .Iooking forward to meeting you. Kirk out."Kirk gathered with Chekov and Scott at thescience officer's station and opened a voice andoptical channel direct to the computer."Computer, this is Admiral JamesT. Kirk. Request security access."He experienced a moment of apprehension thatStarfleet might have blocked the deepest levelsof the computer. A bright light flashed in his eyes,taking a pattern for a retina scan. No no onein Starfleet had 247STAR TREK 111expected him to commit an act as outrageous andabsurd as stealing his own ship. Theddorder to him to sitstill and do nothing, though it would cost the life ofLeonard McCoy, was deemed to be sufficientprotection for the Enterprise. They had not botheredto protect the ship in any more subtle way. Ifthey had, no doubt the ship's computer would have begunshouting "Thief, thief!" the moment he stepped onboard."Identity confirmed," the computer said."Computer . . ." Kirk said. He took adeep breath, and continued without pause. "Destructsequence one. Code one, one-A . . ."As Kirk recited the complex code, heignored Scott's stunned glance. The only wayhe was going to get through this was by keeping it at a distance,by making the decision and carrying it out with nosecondguessing.Kirk finished his part of the process and stoodaside.Chekov stepped forward, his expressive facesomber. "Computer," he said slowly, "this isCommander Pavel Andreievich Chekov, actingscience officer."The computer scanned Chekov's dark eyes andrecognized him.Was it Kirk's imagination, or did theidentification take longer for Chekov than it hadfor Kirk? It must be his apprehension and his nerves andhis sense of the clock ticking away that last minute.The computer was merely a machine, a machine with ahuman voice and somedecision-making capabilities, but it was not de-signed to be self-aware. It could not possessintimations of mortality. It would not delayidentifying Chekov to give itself a few more moments ofexistence, nor would the injuries begun by Kirk'scode slow it in any fashion perceptible to ahuman being. The end would be quick and clean, a matterof microseconds.The Search For Spock"Destruct sequence two, code one,one-A, one-B . . ."The computer was merely a machine; the ship wasmerely a machine."Mr. Scott," Kirk said, his voiceabsolutely level."Admiral was Scott said in protest."Mister Scott to wasScott could stop the sequence. Kirk experienceda mad moment when he hoped the engineerwould do just that.Scott looked away, faced the computer'soptical scan, and identified himself. "Computer, thisis Commander Montgomery Scott, chief engineeringofficer." The light flashed white, bringing the linesof strain on his face into sharp relief."Identification verified.""Destruct sequence three, code one-B,two-B, three . . .""Destruct sequence completed and engaged.Awaiting final code for one-minute countdown."If the computer were merely a machine, if the shipwere merely a machine, how could Jim Kirk perceivegrief in its voice? It was just that, he knew hisperception, not objective reality. He and Spockhad had many arguments about the difference between thetwo. They had come to no agreement, no conclusions.The last word remained James Kirk's."Code zero," he said. "Zero, zero destructzero . . ."This time there was no delay."One minute," the computer said. "Fifty-nineseconds. Fifty-eight seconds.Fifty-seven seconds . . .""Let's get the hell out of here," Jim Kirksaid angrily.On the bridge of the fighter, Torg felt hiscommand24gSTAR TREK 111er's gaze raking him and the heavily armed boardingparty. Torg understood the compliment his commander offeredhim by permitting him to lead the force. Maltz alonewould remain behind with Kruge. Admiring his commander'srestraint, Torg wondered if he himself, inKruge's position, would have the strength to let anotherlead the assault. By forgoing that perquisite,Kruge would gain the more important prize of seeingKirk brought to him, thoroughly beaten, a prisoner.Torg felt some slight apprehension about thesize of his force relative to the crew of aship such as the Enterprise. He wondered if thetwo remaining hostages would truly secure thesubmissive behavior of the enemy. He knew thatif the positions were reversed, Kruge wouldsacrifice two hostages without hesitation."They do outnumber us, my lord was Torgthought to point out that even a few rebels among thecrew could make significant trouble.His crest flaring, Kruge turned on him. "Weare Klingons! When you have taken the ship, when youcontrol it, I will transfer my flag to it and we willtake Genesis from their own memory banks!""Yes, my lord," Torg said. Krugedelivered into his hand s the disposition of anyrebels. Torg would deliver the ship into the hands ofhis commander."To the transport room," Kruge said. Hesaluted Torg. "Success!"The intense thrill of excitement nearlyoverwhelmed the younger officer. No one had everspoken to him in such a high phase of the languagebefore."Success!" he replied. As he ordered histeam into formation and away he heard Kruge contact theFederation admiral again. The conversationfollowed him via the ship's speakers."Kirk, your time runs out. Report!"The Search For Spock"Kirk to Commander Kruge. We are energisingtransporter beam . . ."Torg arranged his party in a wedge, with himself atthe apex."Transporter, stand by," Kruge said."Ready, my lord." Torg grasped the stock ofan assault gun, a blaster, the weapon heparticularly favored over a phaser."dis . . Now."The beam spun Torg into a whirlwind that swepthim away.As his body reformed aboard the Enterprise, heheld his weapon at the ready. But no rebelswaited to resist him.No one waited at all. Over the speakers, asoft an-d rhythmic voice kept the ship's time.An alien custom, no doubt, as inexplicable anddistracting as most alien customs."Forty-one seconds. Forty seconds . . ."Torg descended from the transporter platform.He was prepared for an attack, even morethan a surrender. He was not prepared for . . .nothing.He led his force from the transporter room andtoward the bridge. By the time he reached it, the eeriesilence beneath the computer voice had drawn his nervesas taut as his grip on his blaster.The bridge, too, lay empty and quiet."Twenty-two seconds. Twenty-one seconds. . ."Torg drew out his communicator."It's a trap," one of the team members said. Thefear in his voice infected every one of them.Torg silenced him with a poisonous glance thatpromised severe discipline when the time was right. Heopened a channel to his commander."My lord, the ship appears to be . . .deserted."STAR TREK 111"How can this be?" Kruge said. "They arehiding!""Perhaps, sir. But the bridge appears to be runby computer. It is the only thing speaking.""What? Transmit!"Torg aimed the directionalmicrophone at the computer speaker, which continued itsrhythmic chant. "Six seconds. Fiveseconds . . .""Transport! Maltz, quickly, lock ontothem to wasThe alarm in Kruge's voice terrifiedTorg, but he had no time to react."Two seconds. One second."The transport beam trembled at the edge of hisperceptions"Zero," the computer said, very softly.but it reached him too late.Saavik lay on the cold, rocky hillside.The effects of the stun beams were fading, yet she wasbarely able to move. The madness had possessed her,and now she must pay its price. Her rage haddrained her of strength. David's death had drainedher of will. His blood stained her hands.She forced herself to rise. The young Vulcan watchedher, curious and impassive. His form was that ofSpock, but the Spock she had known had never beenindifferent to exhaustion or to grief. She stoodup. David's body was only a few pacesaway.The sergeant snapped an order at her.She understood its sense, but chose to ignore it. Thecrew member she had tried to throttle leaped forwardand struck her, knocking her down. Even the sound ofhis laughter was not enough to anger her now.She staggered back up. The guard flung her to theground again. Saavik lay still for a moment, digging herfingers into the cold earth, feeling the faint vibrationsof the disintegrating world.The Search For SpockShe pushed herself to her feet for a third time. Theguard clenched his fist. But before he could attack, theserjeant grabbed his arm. The two glared at eachother. The serjeant won the contest. Neither moved asSaavik took the few steps to David's body andknelt beside him. She put her hand to his pallidcheek.When David was near, she had always been awareof the easy and excitable glow of his mind. Now it hadcompletely dissolved. He was gone. All she couldever do for him was watch his body through the night, as shehad watched Peter and as she had watched Spock.On the Enterprise the ritual had been only that.But on this world his body was vulnerable to predators,indigenous or alien.Saavik gazed into the twilight. If theEnterprise were in standard orbit, she should be ableto locate it as a point of light in the sky. Workingout the equations in her head forced her to collect hermind and concentrate her attention. When she was doneshe felt unreasonably pleased with herself.Am I becoming irrational? she wondered.Under these conditions, feeling pleased at anything,much less at the solution of such a simpleprocess, must surely be irrational.She looked for the Enterprise in the spot she hadcalculated it should be.She found the moving point of light.And then .The transporter beam ripped James Kirk fromhis ship and reformed him on the surface of Genesis.One after the other, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, andScott appeared around him, safe. They allwaited, phasers drawn, prepared for pursuit.They had timed their escape closely. The enemyboarding party could have perceived the last glint of theirtransporter beam, couldSTAR TREK 111have tracked them by the console settings, andcould have followed them. But they remained alone.The air was cold and damp and heavy withtwilight. All around, a hundred paces inall directions, iron-grey trees reached into thea\*, then twisted down, twining around each other likegigantic vines. They formed a wide circle aroundan area clear of trees but choked with tangled,spiny bushes. He took a step toward the forest,where he and his friends could find concealment, and where he wouldnot be able to see the sky. But the thorns rippedinto his clothing and hooked into his hands. Thescratches burned as if they had been touched withacid. Jim stopped.Unwillingly, he looked up.Stars pricked the limpid royal blue withpoints of light. This system contained only a singleplanet and no moon. All its sky's stars should befixed, never changing their relationship to one another.But one, shining the dull silver of reflected light,moved gracefully across the starfield on its ownunique path.Slowly and delicately it began to glow. Itscolor changed from silver to gold. Then, with shockingabruptness, it exploded to intense blue-white. Thepoint of motion expanded to a blazing, flamingdisk, a sphere, a new sun that blotted out thestars.Jim felt, or imagined, the radiation on hisface, a brief burst of heat and illumination asmatter and antimatter met and joined in mutualannihilation.The Enterprise arced brilliantly from itsorbit. For an instant it was a comet, but the gravityof the new world caught it and held it and drew it in.It would never again curve boldly close to theincandescent surface of a sun, never again depart thegentle harbor of Earth to sail into the unknown. Thegravity of Genesis turned the dying ship from a cometto a falling star. It spun downward, trailingsparks and cinders and glowing 254The Search For Spockdebris. It touched the atmosphere, and it flaredmore brightly.Just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished. Onemoment the Enterprise was a glorious blaze, and thenext the sky rose black and empty.It seemed impossible that the stars should remain intheir same pattern, for even fixed stars changed afteran eternity."My gods, Bones . . ." hewhispered. "What have I done?""What you had to do," McCoy said harshly, hisvoice only partly his own. "What you've alwaysdone turned death into a fighting chance to live."He faced Jim squarely and grasped his upperarms. "Do you hear me, Jim?"Jim stared at him, still seeing a flash of theafterimage of the new falling star, still feeling the deathof his ship like sunlight searing his face. He tooka deep breath. He nodded.The tricorder Sulu carried had been reactingto the new world since the moment they appeared, but Suluhad barely heard it. Now it forced itself on hisattention."Sir, the planet's core readings areextremely unstable, and they're changing rapidly,"Kirk wrenched his attention to the immediate threat."Any life signs?""Close." He scanned with the tricorder."There.""Come on!"Kirk strode through the clearing toward the distortedtrees. This time the thorns seemed to part for hispassing.The holographic viewer, which had blazed withlight, hung dark and flat; the port looked out onempty space.Kruge slowly realized how many blankseconds had 255STAR TREK 111passed during which he had failed to act, or evento react. The great ship which he had held in thrallhad dissolved in his grasp.Confused and uncertain, Maltz waited by thetransporter controls. He had directed the beamto the landing party, touched them, held them then nothingremained on which to lock.Kruge was unable to believe what the alienadmiral must have done."My lord," Maltz said hesitantly, "whatare your orders?"My orders? Kruge thought. Do I retain theright to give orders? I underestimated him a humanbeing! He did the one thing I did not anticipate,the one thing I discounted. The one thing I would have done inhis position."He destroyed himself," Kruge said aloud."Sir, may I ?"If I had known one of the prisoners washis son if I had interrogated them before sacrificingone to Kruge flailed himself with his ownhumiliation. Killing Kirk's son was stupid!It made Kirk willing to die!"We still have two prisoners, sir," Maltz saidwith transparent concern, for he had received no realresponse from his command er, noacknowledgement of his presence or of theirpredicament, since the enemy ship exploded anddied. "Perhaps their information"Kruge turned on him angrily. "They areuseless! It was Kirk I needed, and I let himslip away.""But surely our mission has not failed!"Maltz exclaimed. They had come seekingGenesis; they retained two hostages who had someknowledge of it, perhaps enough to reproduce it. By his cowardlysuicide, Kirk had abandoned them to their captors.Surely Kruge would not let one setbackdestroy him because of pride....- The Search For Spock"Our mission is over," Kruge said. "I havefailed. A human has been bolder and moreruthless than I...." His eyes wereempty. "That . . . is the real dishonor."and then, the point of light that was the Enterpriseflared into a nova and scattered itself across the sky.Saavik gasped.The ship vanished.She felt the loss of other lives and dreams muchmore sharply than she felt the certainty of her ownimpending death. That did not seem to matter muchanymore. It would have very little effect on theuniverse.Spock cried out violently, foretelling aninevitable quaking of the planet. The night rumbled;the ground shook. In the distance, Genesis echoedSpock's agony. Beyond the forest, a fault sunderedthe plain, splitting it into halves, then ramming thehalves one against the other. One edge rose like anocean wave, overwhelming and crushing the other, whichsubsided beneath it. The sheer faces of stone groundagainst each other with the power to form mountains.A wash of illumination flooded ground and sky.A brilliant aurora echoed the earthquakelights, and ozone sharpened the air.The planet was dying, as the Enterprise had died,as every person Saavik had ever cared about had died, asshe expected, soon, to die.Her guards turned away to gaze into thelooming, sparkling curtains of the aurora. Evenabove the rumblings of the quake, Saavik could hear theelectric sizzle of the auroral discharge. Theguards watched and marveled. Theundertones of their voices revealed fear.Instead of fading, the quake intensified. Themassive trees rocked. The loud snap! ofbreaking branches reverberated across the hillside.The guards lookedSTAR TREK 111around, seeking some place where they might be safeand realising no such place existed on this world.The ground heaved. It flung a massive treecompletely free, ripping it up by its roots andpropelling it onto the bare promontory. Theguards plunged out of its reach and stood huddledtogether, terrified, stranded between the clutching, graspingtrees and the abyss.The resonances of Genesis tortured Spock.Saavik touched David's soft, curly hair onelast time. She could do nothing for him, not even guardhim till the dawn. This world would never see anothersunrise.She rose and picked her way across the ragged,trembling surface. Behind her the serjeant spokeinto his communicator, a note of panic in hisvoice. Though Saavik could not understand the words, shecould well imagine what he was saying.Only static replied. Perhaps, when theEnterpnse destroyed itself, it had destroyed themarauder as well. If that were true, then they weremarooned down here after all.Spock lay prone, shuddering, clenching his longfingers in the dirt. Saavik began to speak to him inVulcan. If she could calm him enough to approachhim, she might join with his mind and alleviate some ofhis pain.So intent was she that she did not even hear the guardstride up behind her. He shoved her roughly aside.She stumbled on the broken ground."No!" she cried as the guard reached down to jerkSpock to his feet. "No, don't touch him!"She was too late.He reached down and grabbed Spock's arm.Spock reacted to the touch as if it burned. Heleaped to his feet with a cry of pain and anger,lifted the guard bodily, and flung him through theair.The Search For SpockThe guard smashed into a contorted tree with a wrenchingcrunch of broken bone. His body slid limplyto the ground and did not move again.As the serjeant drew his phaser, Saavikstruggled to her feet."Be easy," she said to Spock in Vulcan,"be easy, I can help you."Spock covered his face with his hands and cried outto the darkness in a long, wavering ululation. He hadaged again, aged years, during the short time the guardshad kept them apart. Saavik touched him gently,then enfolded him and held him. He was so intent onhis own innercontortions that he did not even react.The serjeant approached, his phaser held ready.He was frightened to the brink of ridding himself of hismurderous prisoner, his commander's wishes andambitions be damned. Saavik glared at him overher shoulder. He would not reach Spock without going throughher first.A tetanic convulsion wracked Spock'sbody, arching his spine and forcing from him ashuddering, anguished scream.In the dark forest on the side of the mountain, JimKirk heard a shriek of agony. He redoubled hispace. He plunged up the steep slope. Thefaint trail wound between trees that would have done creditto Hieronymus Bosch. The scarlet aurora threwmoving shadows across his path. Kirk struggled upwardbetween whippingbranches that moved far more violently than theplunging of the earth could account for.Sulu paced him, with Chekov close behind.McCoy followed at a slightly greater distance.Kirk gasped for breath. The heavily ionised airburned in his throat.STAR TREK 111He burst out into a clearing. Saavik stood inits center, supporting someone and a Klingonserjeant threatened her with a phaser."Don't move!" Kirk cried.The serjeant spun in astonishment, leading with hisphaser.Kirk fired his own weapon. The beam flung theserjeant backwards. He hit the ground and did notmove again.Kirk ran past the serjeant without asecond glance. He slowed as he approachedSaavik, who turned toward him, cradling anunconscious young man in her arms."Bones was Kirk said softly.McCoy panted up beside him and gently took herburden from her. When his hand brushed Saavik's arm,she gasped and jerked away as if he had given heran electrical shock. She took a step back,staring at him. Kirk touched her elbow, startling her."Sir was she said. Her voice broke, and shestaggered. He caught her and drew her close."Easy, Saavik," he said. "Take iteasy. It's all right.""I tried," she whispered. "I tried to takecare of your son . . ."The auroras burned in the sky and lit the clearingwith a ghastly glow. Jim saw, beneath a twisting tree,the body of his son.He hugged Saavik one last time. She took along shuddering breath and straightened up, allowing himto break the embrace.He left her with McCoy and the others and slowlycrossed the clearing. His boots crunched on fallenleaves.Jim knelt beside David's body."My son...." A poem whispered to him from aThe Search For Spocklong-ago time. "'To thee no star be dark . . .Both heaven and earth . . . friend thee forever . . .""Fallen leaves drifted across David's body,shrouding the young man in a tattered cloth that shonescarlet and gold when the auroras flared, a clothof autumn leaves, from a world that had barelyexperienced its spring.Chapter 1 2Jim closed his eyes tight, fighting back thetears. He heard footsteps nearby. He openedhis eyes and raised his head. His vision blurred, thencleared. Saavik stood before him."What happened?" he said."He . . . he gave his life to save us," shesaid. She stopped, then shook her head and turnedaway. She said, very softly, "That is all Iknow.""Jim!"Kirk stood quickly, responding to McCoy'sconcerned shout. He forced himself away from hisgrief, away from the dead and toward theliving.McCoy hunched over the body of the young personwhom Saavik had so fiercely protected. Kirkknelt down beside them, and in the changing light he sawHe gasped. "Bones to was"Bojemoi!" Chekov exclaimed.The Search For SpockIn all the years from the time James Kirk metSpock until the time of Spock's death, theVulcan had not much changed. He aged more slowlythan a human being. No one knew if he would ageas slowly as a Vulcan. Kirk had always beenaware that he would not live to see Spock old, andhe had not known him as a youth. TheVulcan Iying unconscious before him was a youth. . . but he was also, unmistakably, Spock.Spock. Alive.Kirk wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry, hewanted instant certain answers to all the questionstumbling over each other in his mind. My gods, hethought, Spock alive!And then he had to wonder, What does this mean forMcCoy?"Bones ?" he said again."All his metabolic functions are highlyaccelerated," McCoy said. He made hisdiagnosis calmly, despite its implications."In lay terms his body is aging. Fast.""And his mind?"McCoy glanced at his tricorder again and shookhis head. "The readings of a newborn, or at bestan infant of a few months his mind's a void,almost a tabula rasa." He glanced up. "It wouldseem, Admiral," he said drily, "that I haveall his marbles.""Is there anything we can do?"McCoy shrugged. Kirk glanced at Saavik."Only one thing, sir," she said. "We must gethim off this planet. He is . . . bound to it in someway. He is aging, as is this world."The young man moaned. The groundshuddered as violently as he did. Saavikknelt beside him."And if he stays here?"Saavik looked up."He will die."STAR TREK 111Kirk withdrew as a blaze of lightningflooded the clearing. He had to do something . . . andonly one possibility remained.He opened his communicator."Commander Kruge," he said. "This is AdmiralJames T. Kirk. I am . . . alive andwell on the surface of Genesis." He paused.He received no reply except cracklingelectrical interference. "I know this will come as apleasant surprise for you," he said, "but, you see,my ship was the victim of . . . an unfortunateaccident. I'm sorry about your crew, old boy.But c'est la vie, as we say back on Earth."His answer was another convulsion of the ground, anothercrash of static, another blinding burst of light fromthe cloudless sky."Well?" Kirk said angrily. "I'm waitingfor you what's your answer?" He forced himself to relaxhis grip on his communicator, to be patient,to wait and think. "I have what you want," he saiddesperately. "I have the secret of Genesis! Butyou'll have to bring us up there to get it. Do you hearme?"Static drowned out any possibility of ananswer. The sky and the earth rumbled, the young Vulcanmoaned, the trees groaned and cracked, andin the background the aurora rustled, soft and eerie.A tremendous crash of lightning and thunderobliterated sight and sound. His shoulders slumping,Jim Kirk folded his communicator and stowed itcarefully away. He blinked a few times, tryingto drive away the afterimages that made his eyeswater. He turned back to the remnants of hiscrew, whom he had led to their doom.He joined them, but he did not know what to sayto them. Spock lay sprawled on the ground, his armflung across his face. The others were gathered aroundhim, astonished to find him alive. Kirk sat onhis heels besideThe Search For Spockthem, not knowing what to say. "Thank you" and "I'msorry" seemed terribly inadequate."Drop all weapons!"Startled, Kirk spun toward the voice.The sky was a luminous backdrop, a curtain ofwavering auroral light pierced intermittentlyby stars. Against it stood a huge shadow. It loomedabove them on the pinnacle of stone.Kirk rose carefully, drawing his phaser anddropping it, then spreading his empty hands.Sulu, Chekov, and McCoy followed suit, butSaavik remained kneeling beside Spock.The looming figure came a few steps towardthem. The phaser glinted in his hand. The hair of hiscrest rose."Over there," said Commander Kruge. "All butKirk." He gestured to a trampled spot on thehillside.Kirk made a slight gesture of his head.McCoy, Sulu, and Chekov reluctantlyobeyed. Saavik remained where she was, nextto Spock. Kirk heard the Klingon commander draw ina long, angry breath."Go on, Lieutenant," Kirk said softly.He feared that she would argue, but finally she stood andjoined the others.Commander Kruge spun open hiscommunicator. "Maltz," he said, "theprisoners are at our first beam coordinates. Standby."Kirk took one step toward Kruge, whoreacted by raising the phaser.At least I have his full attention, Kirk thought."You should take the Vulcan, too," he saideasily."No.""But, why?""Because," Kruge said, "you wish it." Keeping hisgaze on Kirk, he picked up the phasers andflung them, 265STAR TREK 111one by one, over the promontory and down the sideof the mountain. Then he spoke into the communicator inhis own language. Kirk did not understand the words, butit must have been the order to transport. The energyflux pulsed around Kirk's friends."No to was Saavik cried, but the beam attenuatedher voice. She vanished with the others.Only a few hundred meters away, the wholehillside suddenly split open with a great roar oftortured rock. Scarlet light and intense heatfanned out of the fissure. The glowing magma thrustupward through the breach in the planet's crust. Thewaterfall that tumbled down the hillside flowed into thecrack and over the molten rock, explodinginto superheated steam.Kruge strode closer to Kirk."Genesis!" He shouted over the cacophony of thedying planet. "I want it!""Beam the Vulcan up," Kirk said."Then we talk.""Give me what I want and I'll considerit.""You fool!" Kirk cried. "Look around you!This planet is destroying itself!"Kruge smiled."Yes," he said. "Exhilarating, isn't it?"Kirk stared at him, speechless, then recoveredhimself."If we don't help each other, we'll alldie here!""Perfect!" Kruge said triumphantly."That's the way it shall be!" He loomed overKirk, smiling his wolfish smile. "Give meGenesisff"i he said. Each word struck like ablow.. As if in reply, Genesis heaved and pitchedbeneath him. The outcropping on which he stood shattered andflung him forward. He lost his balance and fell.His phaser skittered across the stone, sliding down thehillside to the edge of the earth fault.As Kruge struggled up, Kirk plunged forwardThe Search For Spocktackled him. Kirk's breath rushed outas if he had run into a solid wall. Krugeroared with anger and caught him in the side with his fist.He fell hard but managed to roll to his feet.Kruge ran toward his phaser. Kirk sprintedtoward him and tackled him at the knees. They bothwent down. Half-stunned, staggering, Krugerose. But Kirk managed to get up first. Hepressed hisadvantage, hitting with short, sharp jabs thatdid little real damage but kept his opponentoff-balance and flailing. He ducked beneathKruge's long, powerful arms and hit him again.Kirk's knuckles were raw. Each blow shot painup his hands.The livid glow of magma haloed the Klingoncommander. He swung and missed. Hismomentum pitched him around. Kirk sprang athim and hit him one more time with his battered hands.Kruge fell.He tumbled over the edge of a bit of brokenground.Kirk looked over the precipice. Krugestood on a second cliff, just above the rumblingmagma. Steam and smoke roiled around him.Looking up at Kirk, he laughed.Infuriated, Kirk sprang down on him. Theheat slapped him. He struggled with Kruge. Thesize and relative youth of the Klingon commander beganto overwhelm him. Kruge broke Kirk's hold andslammed him in the chest with both hands. The impactflung Kirk violently back against the cliff'srock wall. Dazed, Kirk slid toward theground. He barely managed toprevent himself from falling. He was soaked withsweat. He struggled up. Kruge regarded him fromthe edge of the pit. The scarlet darkness silhouettedthe Klingon commander, who waited, hands on hips, forKirk to regain enough of his strength to be a fittingopponent.The magma surged from below, scrapingagainst the side of the cliff. Rocks fell,clattering hollowly. Great 267STAR TREK 111hexagonal columns of basalt split awayfrom the cliff and collapsed like the trunks of ancienttrees. The column on which Kruge stoodfractured and began to sink. The magma swallowedits base.The whole column began to topple. Krugebalanced upon it, the heat rising around himin waves. To Kirk it looked as if the commander wereenjoying his peril, testing his nerve."Jump, damn you!" Kirk cried.And still Kruge delayed. The column of stonecontinued to tilt, to sink.Kruge leaped. But he had waited an instantbeyond the last moment. He fell short. He slammedup against the fragmenting columns, gripping the edge,his feet dangling into the glowing pit.Kirk sprinted to the edge of the cliff and knelt,peering down at Kruge, who looked up at him withhis teeth slightly bared in an expression that was more amocking smile than a threat."Now," Kirk said, "you'll give me what Iwant hisKruge lurched upward, trying to get his arm overthe edge of the cliff, trying to gain leverage. Kirklet him flail at the heated stone."You're going to get us off this planet!" Kirksaid.Kruge snarled something. Whatever it was, it was notagreement. He slipped precariously down."Don't be a fool!" Kirk cried. "Giveme your hand and live!"The commander lunged toward Kirk. Kirkjerked back. Kruge's fingers grazed histhroat, then slipped away. He started to fall, butwith a supernatural effort he vaulted upward again andgrabbed Kirk's leg.Kruge abandoned his hold on the cliff andclenched both hands like claws around Kirk's ankle.Jim Kirk felt himself sliding along the roughsurface of the cliff, off-balance, only ahandsbreadth from the 268The Search For Spockedge. He struggled back, digging his fingers between thehexagonal patterns where the basalt continuedto fragment. His fingernails ripped, and he leftstreaks of blood on the dark stone as he slippedfarther and farther over the edge. The fierce heat of themagma gusted up around him.He heard Kruge laughing again, laughing withcontempt and victory, laughing at the death ofKirk's son, at Kirk's determination to save hisfriends, at Kirk's defeat, and at Kirk himself."Damn you!" Kirk cried in a rage. "I havehad enough of you!" He kicked out angrily, and again,desperately.Kruge's grip loosened, faltered, and broke.Kirk scrambled back onto thecliff.Kruge tumbled down, with nothing to break his fallbut the glowing magma.The basalt columns shuddered and split away fromeach other, tumbling one after the other into the pit. Thecliff was disintegrating beneath Jim's feet. Heraced for the higher cliff, leaped, caught its edge,and dragged himself up its face. He lay panting onsolid ground, exhausted. H'e had no choice butto get up and keep going, for the solid ground was nolonger solid. Other cracks opened, engulfingtwisted, warty trees that exploded into flame andsmoke, swallowing the hillside's streams, gushingsuperheated steam. Jim struggled to his feet.Spock sprawled,unconscious, near a blood-red glowingfissure.The hot white spark of the Genesis sun burstabove the horizon, piercing the darkness and the steam and thesmoke. Lon g shadows sprang into existence. Theymoved and wavered like wraiths with the convulsions of theground.Kirk knelt beside Spock and gently turned himover.He cursed softly.STAR TREK 111This was Spock, Spock as he had known him. Inonly a few minutes he had traveled from youthto maturity. In a few more minutes he wouldprogress to age, thence to . . . death. Hemoaned, as the pain of the world to which he was chainedpenetrated even his exhaustion and deepunconsciousness. The sound lanced through JimKirk.The sun was rising so fast he could feel itsprogress. The rays grew hotter as their anglechanged, and the shadows shortened. The planet'srotation was increasing as the world tore itself apart.Jim looked up at the sky. Even the stars hadfaded in the dawn. It was too bright even to search for thereflected light of the single ship that remained inorbit around Genesis if it had not already fled theunstable star system.He glanced around, found Kruge's phaser, andscooped it up. Then he slid one arm beneathSpock's limp body, heaved him onto hisshoulder, and pushed himself to his feet. He opened hiscommunicator, muffled the pickup by rubbing histhumbnail back and forth across it, did hisbest to copy Kruge's low, harsh voice, andrepeated the last words Kruge had transmitted.Then he waited. His legs were trembling withfatigue. He raised the communicator to tryonce moreAnd felt the gentle tingle of a transporter beamforming around him. It dematerialized his body, andSpock's, and carried them away.Saavik materialised aboard a Klingonfighter. The others appeared around her. A single offleer of the ship observed their arrival.Saavik measured the distance to his weapon with hergaze. She glanced sidelong at CaptainSulu. He stood inThe Search For Spocka completely relaxed attitude ofappraisal. He was ready. If two at onceThe of fleer gestured with his phaser. It was setto fire in a wide fan. It was clear that if anyonemoved suspiciously, the of fleer would stun them allsimultaneously and dispose of them at his leisure.Dr. McCoy suddenly cried out in pain andfell to his knees. Chekov and Scott quicklymoved to help him. Saavik and Suluremained where they were, but they both realised they wereat too great a disadvantage. As Sulu turnedaway to help the others with McCoy, he muttered,"I wonder what O-sensei would have said aboutphasers?"Saavik held back from touching McCoy again.When he brushed against her, back on Genesis, itwas not the doctor she sensed, but Mr. Spock.McCoy carried in him the unique pattern of herteacher, trapped and blind and weakening. The experienceleft Saavik thoroughly shaken.Nevertheless, it explained a great deal. And itopened so many possibilities . . .possibilities which would be closed again if they allremained prisoners, and above all if Genesisdestroyed itself before those remaining on its surface couldbe rescued.Comporeaed once more, Saavik mentally ranthrough the forms of address in the high tongue of theKlingon Empire. She was unfamiliar with the lowerdialects she had heard the other crew membersspeak, but no matter. It would surely be betterto speak to the Klingon officer in a form too high thanin one too low. If she could speak to him withoutoffending him, she might have some chance ofpersuading him to rescue those left behind. She mighteven be able to persuade him to surrender, for the hightongue was a very persuasive language.STAR TREK 111Whatever she did, she had only a little time. Theship lay oriented so its forward port facedGenesis directly The tectonic activity hadbecome so violent that even from this distance she could seethe great rifts in the planet's crust and the glowingfires of its interior. Its orbit around its sunwas decaying rapidly; the star's blue-white diskgrew larger as Saavik watched. Before the planetdestroyed itself, its surface conditions would belethal."Worthy opponent," she said, hoping that heraccent was not too atrocious, "we find ourselves in adelicately balanced position."He glanced at her sharply and frowned. His handtightened on the grip of his phaser."You are one," Saavik said, "and we arefive."She neglected to point out that Dr. McCoy wasin no state to join in any opposition."Furthermore, this entire star system willsoon degenerate into a plasma of subelementaryparticles. If we do not rescue our respectiveshipmates and flee, we will all perish.""Stop!"She stopped. The tone of his voice gave her littlechoice."Why do you speak to me in this manner?" he said.He spoke quite acceptable Standard."I did not know you spoke our language," shesaid."Of course I speak your barbarian pidgin do youthink me so ignorant of my enemies? But you speakto me in Kumburan, and I am Rumaiy. Could itbe that you have not been taught the difference?""It could be," Saavik admitted. "I did notintend offecse.""Could it be that you believe the slanderous cant putabout, that Kumburanya are in the ascendancy overRumaiym?""I confess to an unforgivable ignorance of the subThe Search For Spockject," Saavik said, not altogether truthfully. Shehad been told at the Academy that the languageshe was studying was the only significantone in the Klingon Empire. That did not seem quite theappropriate response just now. "In the Federationwe employ a single language in public, so wemay all communicate.""Reductionists!" he said with contempt."Obliterators of diversity!" He mutteredsomething unpleasant in a language Saavikdid not know, and then he started to say something which shefeared would be a lengthy tirade against the social orpolitical group that opposed his own."But I am not ignorant about the world below us,"Saavik said quickly, taking the risk of incurring hisanger by interrupting him. "And it is closeto destroying itself. Look at it! You cannot pretend thesigns do not exist! We mustcooperate to survive!""I have my orders.""Orders from a commander unaware of thedangers on the surface, or beneath it acommander who may even now be dead? If you valuediversity . . . my worthy opponent, this systemwill soon lose its diversity completely. In amatter of hours it will consist of nothing but ahomogeneous mass of highly entropicprotomatter."The officer said nothing, but gazed at Saavikthoughtfully.The communicator erupted in a muffled burst ofstatic. Saavik cursed silently, for it brokehis consideration. She would have to start persuading him allover again if she got the chance. No doubt this was hiscommander with new orders, orders that could not be of anybenefit to Saavik and her companions.When she heard the voice she started. She glancedat Captain Sulu and knew her suspicion wascorrect, because he was forcing himself not to react, notto burstSTAR TREK 111out in surprised and relieved laughter. They bothlooked surreptitiously up at the command seat.The officer hesitated before replying to the order.Saavik dug her nails into her palms.The officer touched controls.Then they all waited.The last thing Jim Kirk saw on the surfaceof Genesis was the body of his son, drifted over withscarlet leaves and outlined by the fires of the world that hadmeant so much to him.That world faded like a dream.A transporter chamber solidified into realityaround Jim Kirk. He blew his breath out in asharp reaction of relief, for if he had been undersuspicion he might have found his and Spock'satoms spread all over space by the transporterbeam.Dredging from the depths of his mind the layout of aKlingon fighter, he settled Spoek's body morefirmly on his shoulder and headed for the control room.He saw no one as he strode through the corridors,and he could not help but think, with some trepidation, that thiswas precisely the sort of emptiness the boarding partyhad confronted on the Enterprtse. He drew thephaser. It fit his hand strangely, having beendesigned for different joints and differentproportions.Doors opened for him. He stepped into the controlroom.Kruge's second in command revealed nosurprise when Kirk entered. Like Kirk, heheld a phaser. Unlike Kirk, he was alone.Even if he fired now, he would fall to Kirk'sphaser, and the prisoners behind him would become hiscaptors."Where is Commander Kruge?" he asked.He spoke as if the question were his final duty. Kirkknew, then, 274The Search For Spockthat his masquerade had not fooled the officer for amoment."Gone," Kirk said. "Dead. Engulfedby Genesis."Defeated and resigned, the officer spread hishands. Kirk nodded once, sharply.Saavik vaulted from the work-pit and relievedMaltz of his phaser. Chekov helped McCoyto his feet. The strain in the doctor's face, thestrain of having been removed again from proximityto Spock, began to ease."How many more?" Kirk said."Just him, sir!" Scott said.Kirk lowered Spock to the deck. "Bones,help Spock! Everyone else find a station."Saavik put Maltz's phaser in her belt,and waited. Slowly, reluctantly, he drew hisdagger and surrendered it to her."You!" Kirk said to him. "Help us, or die!""I do not deserve to live!""Fine I'll kill you later! Let's get outof here!"He sprinted to a place on the bridge, leavingKruge's second confused and defeated. Everyoneelse had already taken a spot. Kirk trusted thatthey had all spent their time here trying to figure out whichinstrument performed which function.Beyond the viewport, the Genesis suncontracted and brightened. It was a few minutes, nomore, from nova. The instability of the planet affectedits orbit in an accelerating manner. As the pathdecayed, the world spiraled toward the sun, drawing theship along with it.Kirk glanced at the beautiful and unfamiliaralien script, of which he could not read a word."Anybody here read Klingon?" he said.No one answered, though Saavik glanced at himsharply, then looked away as if she wereembarrassed. 275STAR TREK 111Just like Spock, Kirk thought. She considers it apersonal failing if she can't do absolutelyeverything."Well, take your best shot," Kirk saidto his friends."If you can bypass into this module was Chekov saidto Scott.Scott made a sound of disgust. "Fine, butwhere's the damn antimatter inducer?""This?" Chekov replied. "No, this!""This," Scott said, "or nothing." He touchedalien controls, took a deep breath, and movedanother control to its farthest extent.The ship whined. Everyone flinched as the soundwavered, then relaxed as it steadied and strengthened.Sulu occupied a station as if it were built forhim."If I read this right, sir, we have full power."Kirk did not doubt that the young captain read itright."GO9 Sulu!"'9The ship arced around, accelerated out of orbit, andhurtled at warp speed from the deteriorating system.There was no conversation, there were no orders, there wassimply a consensus between people who had known each otherlong and well. At what he judged to be a-safedistances Sulu pulled the fighter back from warpspeed. Elf navigating the Enterprise was likedriving a team of proud and immensely powerfuldraft horses, handling the Klingon ship was like beingperched on the back of a skittish two-year-oldcolt during its first Mce. Suluoriented it so the viewport faced the system they hadjust fled.The planet fell toward its sun, which burned withan intense blue-white light. Stellar flaresburst from the incandescent surface, reaching outto capture anything within their grasp.The only thing within their grasp was the Genesis world.With shocking suddenness, the sun engulfed it.The Search For SpockThe Genesis world was gone."Good-bye, David," Jim Kirk whispered.The disk of the star expanded, exploding to millionsof times its previous volume until it was nothing buta tenuous, vaguely luminescent, spiral cloudof plasma."It will form another world," Saavik said.Kirk glanced at her sharply."The protomatter will condense to a plasma ofnormal matter," she said. "The plasma will cool.It will condense to dust, thence to a star and a family ofplanets. This time, lacking the Genesis wave, itwill be stable. A surface will harden, oceans will form,the sun's radiation will induce chemical reactions.Life will begin. In time . . . it mayevolve as David and his friends intended.""In millions of years," Kirk said."No, Admiral," she said. "In billionsof years.""I'm glad you find some comfort in the long view,Lieutenant," Kirk said.Sulu spoke, breaking the uneasy tensionbetween Kirk and Saavik. "We're clear andfree to navigate," he said."Best speed to Vulcan, Captain." Kirkfell gratefully back into the role he knewbest. "Mr. Chekov, take the prisoner below.""Aye, sir.""Wait!" Kruge's second in command drewback from him and turned angrily on Kirk. "Yousaid you would kill me.""I lied," Kirk said, and gestured for Chekovto get him off the bridge.After a quick and dirty self-taught course on thefiner details of navigating a Klingon fightingcraft, Sulu laid in a course for Vulcan.Saavik puzzled out the communications system.STAR TREK 111"Lieutenant Saavik of Federationscience ship Grissom, calling StarfleetCommunications. Come in, please.""Communications to Grissom. We've beentrying to reach you folks for days! A freighter justpicked up a lifeboat with a couple of survivorsfrom a merchant vessel they claim Klingons raidedtheir ship!""It is likely their claim is true,"Saavik said. "We . . . experienced a similarencounter.""Are you all right?""I regret that we are not. We have a serious andcontinuing emergency. We have incurred manyfatalities. We need your cooperation.""You have it, Lieutenant. What do yourequire?""A patch into your library's data-base, and ageneral message to all ships between Mutara sectorand Vulcan.""The patch is made." The Starfleetcommunications officer paused a moment, then said ina startled voice, "Lieutenant, whatcommunications protocol are you using? What thedevil are you flying?""Please stand by," Saavik said. Sheinstructed the Starfleet data-base and waited for theinformation she needed before she replied to the question. Sheassumed her answer would cause consternation at the veryleast. At worst, it would result in so muchsuspicion that the data link would immediately be broken,and hunters would be sent out for their heads.A new voice broke into the channel. "Cut thatdamned data link! Lieutenant Saavik! Thisis Starfleet Commander Morrow. What the hell isgoing on out there? Let me speak with Esteban!""I am sorry, sir," she said. "That isimpossible."He cursed softly. "I want someexplanations! Have you seen the Enterprise?"The Search For Spock"The Enterprise is not within our range, sir,"she said. She did not know how to react to hernew-found ability to dissemble nearly as well as ahuman being."What is the message you want us to relay?"Morrow said.was "EU-INGON fighter on course to Vulcan?"' Saavik heard exclamations of astonishment.She continued. ""This ship is not anadversary. It is held by a contingent of Federationpersonnel. It is running With down and weaponsdisabled. Essential that we reach Vulcan. Delaywill result in further casualties. This ship is notan adversary."""A Klingon fighter! Lieutenant, I askagain, Where is Grissom? What in blazes isgoing on out there?""Saavik out." She shut down the channel."Good work, Lieutenant," Kirk said. He hadknown perfectly well that if he or anyone elsefrom the Enterprise contacted Starfleet they would havebeen ordered to return immediately to Earth, to surrender.They were without doubt already under arrest, albeit inabsentia.Saavik could think of no suitable wayto respond to a compliment for dishonesty. Instead, shetransferred the Starfleet data to CaptainSulu's station. He gave her a smile ofthanks.She brought up the second information module onher own screen and began to read the dense Vulcanprose."Estimating Vulcan at point one niner,"Sulu said.Federation ships dogged their path, but none offered adirect challenge. Saavik left her ship'ssystems open to surveillance, but continued to letStarfleet believe that she was the only Federationmember on board."Lieutenant," Kirk said, "transmit amessage toSTAR TREK 111Ambassador Sarek. Tell him we bringMcCoy, and Spock. Tell him . . . Spockis alive. Ask him to prepare for the katraritual.""Aye, sir. But..." She was still trying to sortout the basic facts of what she had just finished read-ing. She could hardly presume to comprehend thephilosophy. For centuries, the mostintellectual citizens of Vulcan had dedicatedtheir lives to its study without claiming to have reached thelimits of its meaning."But what, Lieutenant?""I do not know if that is possible." Her lack ofknowledge brought home to her, with redoubled force, comherprofound isolation from Vulcan society."What? What are you saying?""The katra ritual is meant to depositSpock's consciousness in the Hall of AncientThought. Not back into his body.""But we have Spock alive! Why can't theyreturn his katra?""The circumstances are most unusual. Theprocedure you suggest is called fat tor pan, therefusion. The conditions required to perform it have notoccurred for millennia. There is considerabledisagreement about whether it succeeded then, whether it couldsucceed at all, and indeed whether it should succeed. Theelders may not choose even to attempt it.""And if they don't? What will happento Spock?"Saavik wished she could avoid answering JamesKirk as easily as she had avoided the questions ofStarfleet Command."He will remain," she said finally, unwillingly,"always as he is . . ."Kirk looked blankly at her, then turned andstrode from the bridge.\*The Search For SpockSpock lay on one of the pallets in thesmall sick bay. McCoy stood beside him, his handon the pulse-point at Spock's throat. Theweak, thready beat pulsed far too slowly for aVulcan. McCoy passed his scanner overSpock's body. The fragile, feeble signalgave him no confidence. Spock had stopped agingsince they freed him from Genesis, but he had falleninto a deep unconsciousness. As the strength of hisbody ebbed, so did the strength of his spirit."Spock," McCoy said softly,desperately, "I've done everything I know to do.Help me! You stuck me with this, for gods' sake,teach me what to do with it!" He paused, without muchhope, and received no answer from within or without. "Inever thought I'd ever say this to you," he said, and thought,You green-blooded . . . but the old, familiargibe rang hollow, and he could not bring himself to speakit aloud. "I've missed you. I couldn't . . .I couldn't bear to lose you again."He could feel his own strength failing him. Indespair, he hid his face \*tion his hands.He felt the touch of another hand. Jim Kirkstood beside him, one hand on McCoy's shoulder, theother on Spock's. The\* lives had beenintertwined for so long....Jim's face was full of grief, and yet ofdetermination. He gripped McCoy's shoulderhard, as if, like a Vulcan, he could transferto hen some of his strength.Chapter 1 3Vulcan.A desert world, limited in materialresources, yet limitless in the intellectual andphilosophical achievements of its inhabitants.Saavik gazed upon it and wished what she hadwished since the first time she learned about this planet.She wished she belonged here. She wished she had someright to this world, some claim to a place upon it and within itssociety. She had none of those things. Shesuspected she could never earn them, no matter herachievements."Home, eh, Lieutenant?""I beg your pardon, Admiral?" Saaviksaid.Kirk nodded toward the viewport. "Vulcan.""Vulcan is not my home, sir. I have neverbeen here before.""Oh," he said, taken aback. "I would have thoughtyou would at least have visited it."The Search For Spock"I have never been invited to Vulcan, sir."She tried to speak as she had been taught, withoutemotion. She almost succeeded, but Kirk sensed somethingof her isolation."I think we'll find that we're welcome," hesaid gently."The planet Vulcan is in hailing distance,Admiral," Captain Sulu said."Thank you, Sulu. Saavik send a messageto Ambassador Sarek. Tell him we're comingin."She obeyed. A ground station accepted hermessage. She waited for an answer."Rescue party hisIn reaction to the voice, everyone on the bridgeswung toward the speaker. Sulu gave a cheer ofsurprise and delight that mirrored all theirfeelings. Hearing Uhura'svoice, knowing she waswell and free, was the first purely joyful thing that hadhappened to any of them in far too long.was this is Commander Uhura. Permission isgranted to land on the plain at the foot of MountSeleya. Ambassador Sarek isready." She paused. Her voice closeto breaking, she said, "Welcome. Oh, welcomeback."The fighter shivered as its wings spread into flyingconfiguration. Sulu felt the energy of the ship glideinto his hands and arms and suffuse his body with a powerfulglow. He had never flown anything like this ship before.He had developed a considerable and more than grudgingrespect for the engineering abilities of the opponentsof the Federation.He wondered what would happen to the ship. Nodoubt Starfleet would seize it and send it backto Earth to be dismembered and analysed. The ideapained him greatly.STAR TREK 111He realised that this was quite probably the last timehe would ever fly any ship, of any sort."Captain Sulu," Kirk said, "you're onmanual."He nodded. "It's been a while, sir." Hehad not landed a ship of this size without gravitypropulsion since his student days. And, of course,he had never landed a craft of this design. "Herewe go. Retrothrusters!"The ship replied, responding like a dream. Thedust of the plain at the foot of Mount Seleyabillowed up around it as it settled to the ground.The ramp hissed out and lowered itself to the ground.Spock's friends carried his litter out into the scarletdusk of Vulcan.At the foot of the ramp, Kirk stopped short andlooked out amazed. The plain led to the temple.To either side of the long steep path, Vulcans stoodwatching and waiting, curious and silent. Here and therea torch flared against the dim light."My gods . . ." Kirk whispered."Much is at stake," Saavik said.Kirk knew little of the Vulcan philosophy ofwhat he was about to ask, and he cared less. All hewanted to hear was an acquiescence to his demand.The light faded to the state of dimness where everythingtook on an eerie cast. More torches flared.Kirk heard running footsteps before he could tellwhere they came from.Uhura appeared before him. Jim embraced her withhis free arm. Uhura's eyes were bright with tears."Sarek is waiting," she said. "Above hisShe slipped in between Kirk and Sulu and helpedcarry the stretcher up the long path to thecrest of the hill, where the temple loomed dark andmysterious.Strange music teased the limits of Kirk'shearing. AsThe Search For Spockhe trudged up the slope the music grew onlya little louder. It and the flaring of the torches were the onlysounds. The enormous crowd of people watched somberlyand in utter silence.Kirk's legs began to ache. He had fought offhis exhaustion for SQ long that he could not evenremember when last he had slept. He keptgoing.A young child let go her father's hand. She walked withgreat dignity to Spock's side, and followed for afew paces. She looked down into his face,saluted him, and whispered, "Live long andprosper, Spock." Then she slipped away andvanished into the crowd again.Sarek waited on the steps of the temple,accompanied by several dignitaries and by sixmembers of the priesthood. The tall, statelywomen watched with utter impassivity.Finally Sarek strode forward to meetthem. Kirk stopped, no longer sure what he shoulddo.The music faded so gradually that he was uncertainof the transition between sound and silence.Sarek gazed at Spock. He reached down andplaced his long, graceful hands against the sides ofSpock's face. Kirk wanted nothing more thanto grab him and shake him and make him explain whatwould happen now. He glanced sidelong atMcCoy, who had reached the raw edge of his strength.Sarek said nothing. He took one pacebackward and nodded to the members of the priesthood.They moved between Kirk and his friends so easily, sogently, and with such assurance that they hardly seemedto be displacing them. The women took Spock in theirhands and carried him away. Sarek followed.Kirk watched, astonished. The Vulcanscarried Spock easily, but their hands were notunderneath his body.They were on top of it.STAR TREK 111Kirk hurried after them.He passed between massive stone pillars andstopped at the edge of a circular,slightly dished platform. An altar rose at itsfar side. T'Lar, the leader of the Vulcanpriesthood, waited in stately silence as hersubordinates brought Spock to her. They began alow chant that penetrated to the bones.Sarek paused and faced Kirk."This is where you must wait."Unwillingly, Kirk obeyed. The music beganagain. Sarek faced the altar as his son's bodysank gently to the age-smoothed granite and laymotionless as stone. Lee music and the chant ceasedsimultaneously."Sarek," T'Lar said. Her voice, barely awhisper, carried to them sharp and clear. "Sarek, child ofSkon, child of Solkar. The body of your child breathesstill. What is your wish?""I ask for fat tor pan," Sarek said. "Therefusion.""What you seek has not been done since agespast. It has succeeded only in legend. Yourrequest is not Iogicah,""Forgive me, T'Lar," Sarek said. Hesounded very tired, and Kirk realized this must be the mostdifficult thing he had said in a hundred twentyyears. "My logic falters . . . wheremy son is concerned."T'Lar looked beyond Sarek to Kirk and his friends.She looked Kirk straight in the eye. Hergaze, as sharp as a weapon, touched him, thengranted him mercy. She turned her attentionto McCoy."Who is the keeper of the katra?" The question,clearly, lay in ritual; she knew the answerto what she asked.Sarek nodded at McCoy. McCoy staredstraight ahead, fixed by the power of T'Lar'seyes."Bones was Kirk said urgently under his breath.The Search For SpockMcCoy finally replied. "I am," he saidhesitantly. "McCoy . . . Leonard H."He took a long breath of the rarefied air ofVulcan. "Son of David and Eleanora . . .his"McCoy, son of David, son of Eleanora. . ."McCoy shivered."Since thou art human, and without knowledge of ourphilosophy, we cannot expect thee to understandfully what Sarek has requested. Thecircumstances are extraordinary. Spock's bodylives. With shine approval, we will use all ourpowers to return to his body that which thou costpossess his essence. But, McCoy . . ."T'Lar let the silence surround them and pressdown against them. Kirk could see the faint sheen ofsweat on McCoy's forehead."You must now be warned," T'Lar said,speaking with complete formality. "The danger to you isas grave as the danger to Spock."Now Kirk shivered, and tried to tell himself it wasonly the rapid cooling of a desert at night."You must make the choice." T'Lar waited forMcCoy"'9 reply. Her dispassionateexpression offered neither encouragement nor warning.McCoy, in his turn, let the silence stretchout."I choose the danger," he said. Under his breath,to Kirk, he muttered, "He11uva time to ask."Kirk repressed a smile and fought down alaugh, knowing it to be a laugh of apprehension. Heand McCoy both knew the choice to bebetween madness and the risk of death."Bring him forward!" T'Lar said.Sarek led McCoy across the long emptyplatform and stopped before the altar. Kirk knewhe could do nothing, yet he hated letting McCoygo alone, to face . . .STAR TREK 111A bolt of heat lightning shattered the silence.McCoy let Sarek draw him forward to thealtar. Abruptly he stood all alone.Spock lay before him, and T'Lar stood above themboth. McCoy was aware of music, arhythmic chant, and the thin sharp sighing of the wind.The powerful voice of the Vulcan leader echoed aroundhim. "All that can be done, shall be done, though it takefull turn of the Vulcan sun."T'Lar stroked her fingers along his temple.Her touch was like fire, and he gasped. An alienconsciousness stirred deep within his mind.Terror-stricken, he struggled against it.The voice he heard was wordless and silent, yet soloud he feared it would strike him deaf. He could notsee, and he feared he had been blinded as well."Yes! Strive, fight! Employ the power ofshine alien emotions! Wrest back thy life!"Thunder pounded at him, and he screamed.Built high on the slopes of Mount Seleya,the retreat of the adepts of the discipline of ancientthought had grown and changed over manygenerations. Its hallways and galleries cutdeep into bedrock. It was said that they looped backupon themselves and never reached an end; it was said that one couldwander through them for a lifetime and never walk the samepath twice.Amanda Grayson, student and adept of thediscipline, citizen of Earth, knew of no one whoclaimed complete familiarity with the maze. Most of thedeepest caverns had long fallen inffdisuse. Eventhe most ascetic of Vulcans preferred openspaces, open air, and the heat of the huge red sun.The retreat overlooked the plain at the foot ofSeleya. Amanda stepped out onto her balcony,intoThe Search For Spockdarkness. The face of the retreat stretched awayto either side, a long stream of carven rock. Itsorganic curves and graceful arcs flowed easilyand imperceptibly into balconies, pathways,entrances, windows.Amanda put her hands on the smoothsurface of the parapet. The stone held the heat of theday, though the air had already grown chilly.Long stretches of time often passed during which theplain far below remained deserted. In all the yearsAmanda had studied the discipline, she had never seenmore than a few people at a time approach the temple.Citizens who had reached the death of the body were broughtto Mount Seleya by close family members, perhapsby comrades with whom they had formedintellectual ties. The studentadepts thenhelped the citizen sever the bond between body and mind,between substance and soul. After that, the body could go to dustand ashes, but the presence retired to the Hall ofAncient Thought. Always before, the studentadeptscarried out the procedure in private, in anatmosphere of calm. comtildeAll that was changed. An enormous, silent,curious crowd had gathered on the plain. Theirtorches cast an eerie glow over the land, thecourtyard, the temple. The light was far too dimfor Amanda to see the processional, but she knew everydetail of the ceremony. She followed it, in hermind, as if she could affect it with her imagination andcarry it to the conclusion she sought. And perhaps she could.She dared not try to reach out to her son with herthoughts, not now, not yet, but her heart was with him.T'Mei knocked softly on the door, entered,and paused at the balcony's doorway. The youngVulcan was still many years away from adding "adept"to her title of student, which Amanda had done not toolong before. Adepts of the discipline never abandoned theSTAR TREK 111appellation, "student." They preferred always to bereminded that the universe still held things they did notknow. T'Lar, the most learned of them all, hadrecently and without comment ceased to use the title"adept." She now called herself merely student."Amanda?""Yes, child.""Do you need anything?""No, my dear," Amanda said. "I don't needanything, except to have my wishes answered.""I cannot do that," T'Mei said.Amanda smiled. "I know it. Come stand by me."T'Mei joined Amanda on the balcony. Shemoved so gracefully, with such self-possession,that she made hardly a sound. Her dark gold hairfell free past her waist."One of your wishes is to be in thetemple," T'Mei said."Yes. I never thought I'd live to see the timewhen my own son was a subject of the discipline.Certainly-I never would have wished it! But now I dowish I could be there. Spock is balanced betweenrefusion and oblivion and I can't even help him!"She slapped the parapet with anger and frustration. Fromthe time of her marriage to Sarek she had known thatto adopt Vulcanmanners completely would be her destruction.Exhibiting her emotions beyond all courtesy would haverun counter to her own upbringing, but neither did she tryto smother or deny her feelings. At the beginning of hertraining, this all-too-human characteristic counted againsther, but she proved herself worthy nonetheless.Once in a while she appreciated, and evenenvied, the equanimity of Vulcans. For Amanda,the days since Spock's death had been anunending succession of powerful emotions grief whenthe news first came, and 290The Search For Spockhope of saving his presence, then a desperateanguish when it seemed that even Spock's katrahad been lost. And now she was faced with the powerful,incredible possibility that her son still mightlive.But it hasn't been easy for Sarek, either,Amanda thought. Equanimity or no, he's feltthese past days deeply.I"...Mei rested her elbows on the parapet andgazed thoughtfully down at the temple."It would be most fascinating to attend therefusion," she said. "It is unlikely that thisprecise constellation of circumstances will recur inour lifetimes.""Or in this millennium," Amanda said. "But Iwant to be down there for personal reasons nothistorical ones.""Your position is ironic," T'Mei said."A studentadept, yet a relative of thesubject, when the subject is unique.""Ironic's hardly the word for it," Amanda said.No studentadept could ever participate in, oreven observe, the transfer of a close relative.The katra was fragile and easily lost. To freeit from the bearer and place it in the Hall of AncientThought; the studentadepts formed delicate,temporary psychic ties around it, and dissolved themagain on completing the passage. If mentalconnections already existed between a subject andan adept, as they did when the two belonged to thesame family, the resonances created an interferencethat invariably proved disastrous.How the interference might affect the refusion, noone even attempted to speculate.When James Kirks message arrived, it hada galvanic effect on the inhabitants of theretreat. Many questions had to be answered instantly,questions that for generations had been discussed, analysed, anddebated without any finalresolution. Amanda would have had no 291STAR TREK 111time to prepare her case, even had she wishedto argue against her exclusion from the ritual which she didnot. She knew from the beginning that she could not be amember of the group that assisted her son. Sheunderstood the logic of avoiding such a completelyunnecessary risk. But her intellectual acceptance ofmatters did absolutely nothing to diminish heremotional desire, her need, to be in the temple,to try to help."It is unfortunate that you must forgo participatingin this unique experience," T'Mei said."I don't give a hang for the uniqueness of theexperience!" Amanda said angrily. Shehad to switch toStandard to get her point across. Vulcan was fartoo refined for what she had to say. "Dammit!Right this minute I wish I'd never studied thediscipline!""Amanda," T'Mei said, perplexed, "I do notunderstand.""If I weren't a studentadept, I wouldn'tendanger Spock just by being near him! At least Icould be down there! At least Sarek and I could be togethertonight!"She turned away from T'Mei and stared down atthe bright sparks of the torches. She was furious ather helplessness and at the injustice of the universe,too furious even to cry.T'Mei stood beside her in silence, unableto comprehend her hope, her grief, her anger, orher love.Jim Kirk was exhausted. He had spent thelong cold Vulcan night knowing he could do nothing butwait, knowing that it would make sense . . . that it wouldbe logical . . . to rest. But he was too tiredto sleep, too keyed up. It seemed that this nighthe might lose all the people who meant the most to him.He had lost David already, and he had noteven been permitted to contact Carol and tell herwhat had happened. Or, rather, he had not beenprevented, but it had been made clear to 292The Search For Spockhim that if he left the mountain and the temple before theend of the ritual, he would not be able to return. To theVulcans, the stricture seemed completelylogical. To Kirk, it seemed a cruel choice.In the end, he had stayed. He could not help hisfriends, but he could not leave them, either, not when they bothran such a tremendous risk.Jim envied Scotty, sprawled against a stonepillar, gently snoring. Chekov sat with his kneespulled to his chest, his arms folded, his head down.Uhura lay on the stone with her cheek pillowed onher hand, as lithe as a cat, and, Jim thought, asalert, even in sleep. Saavik waited for thedawn, her legs crossed beneath her, her hands palmdown and relaxed, her eyes open andunblinking. Sulu knelt motionless on the stone,sitting seiza with his eyes half closed.Kirk strode from one pillar to the next and backagain, trying to fight off the bone-deep chill. Atnight, what little moisture was in the Vulcan aircondensed out as frost. Kirk's lungs achedand his throat was dry and raspy.He made himself sit down; he pretended to rest.The stars in Vulcan's empty sky were marvelouslybright and clear. The dawn-wind began to blow, coldand harsh, whipping up dust-devils from the desiccatedland.Within the space of a few breaths the stars faded andvanished, and the sky changed from black to abrilliant royalpurple. The dawn-wind diedabruptly. The scarlet disk of EpsilonEridani burst above the horizon, castingimpenetrable shadows through the temple and searing thedesert as it had at every dawn for countless millennia.A gong rang.Kirk leaped to his feet.T'Lar appeared first. She lay supine in asedan chair 293STAR TREK 111carried by the dignitaries who had waitedsilently all night long. Kirk took a steptoward her, but she neither stirred nor opened hereyes. The power she wielded had drained andexhausted her, leavin g her wan and frail. TheVulcans bearing her toward the dawn passed Kirkwithout acknowledging his presence.McCoy stepped wearily into the sunlight thatpierced the shadows behind the altar. Though Sareksupported him, the doctor was moving under his ownpower. The members of thepriesthood, tall and serene in their long hoodedcloaks, followed behind. The Vulcans remainedcompletely impassive, showing neither exultation nordespair.For gods' sakes, Jim cried in his mind, whathappened? What happened?At the end of the procession, a single figure,robed in stark white, moved past the altar. Thehood was so deep, the robe so brilliantlywhite, that the thick scarlet light of dawnobscured the being's features rather than illuminatingthem.Nearby, Saavik drew a quick breath ofrecognition? Of distress? Jim Kirk could nottell.He became aware of his shipmates, if that termhad any meaning for them anymore. Theyclustered dose around him, Sulu and Uhura onhis right, Chekov and Scott on his left, the engineerstiff and sore and sleepy. Saavik stood a littleapart from the rest.As the procession crossed the platform, Sarekbroke off from the group and brought McCoy to join hisfriends. Sulu moved forward to help support him."Leonard was Jim said."It's all right...." McCoy said. Wearinessfaded his voice to a whisper. "I'm all right,Jim."Sulu drew McCoy's arm across his shoulders andsupported most of his weight. McCoymanaged a smile, 294The Search For Spocka grip of his hand on Sulu's upper arm, as heaccepted the aid gratefully.The white-robed figure at the end of theprocession walked past without a glance orhesitation. Jim still could not see beneath the hood, but heknew the stride, the carriage. Saavik startedtoward the figure, but Jim grabbed her arm. Hecould not stop her if she chose to break free, but shehalted at his touch."What about . . . Spock?" Jim saidto Sarek."I am not sure," Sarek said. "Only time willan-swer." He turned his head toward the robedfigure, then back to Jim."Kirk. I thank you." Sarek's voice, ifnot his words, admitted that the night's work might havefailed. "What you have done is his"What I have done, I had to do," Kirk saidharshly. He thought he saw a flicker ofsympathy, even of pity, in Sarek's eyes. Hedid not want pity."But at what cost? Your ship." The lines aroundhis eyes deepened. "Your son...."Jim felt that if he acknowledged what Sarek wastrying to say to him, his whole being would shatter withgrief."If I hadn't tried, the cost would have been mysoul."Sarek nodded, accepting Jim's unwillingnessto speak any further or any deeper. He turnedand walked silently away. Vulcan's star hungjust above the horizon, an enormous scarlet disk,silhouetting first the procession, then a tall andsolitary figure. The wind whined mournfully andfluttered the edge of the white robe.Jim shaded his eyes with his hands, squinting into thedawn for one last glimpse of his old friend.Live long, he thought. Live long and prosper.And the figure slowly turned. 295STAR TREK 111One of the members of the procession heard or sensedhis motion and reached back, but Sarek stayed her hand.The sun shone incandescently through the fabric of thewhite hood, from behind, casting the face into deepshadow.He hesitated, then walked slowly toward JimKirk and his friends.He stopped, reached up, drew the hood back fromhis face, and let it fall to his shoulders.The pain had left Spock's face, the pain,and the horrible emptiness, His deep gaze questioned Jimgently and wordlessly. An intent intelligence,impatient with uncertainty, lit his eyes.He glanced from Jim to each of his other shipmatesin turn Sulu, Uhura, McCoy, Chekov,Scott; and finally Saavik. It seemed to Jim thathe reached the brink of recognition with each of them, butcould not quite cross the boundary.Spock returned his gaze to Jim Kirk. Thehot wind of Vulcan wailed over the desert with akeening cry."I know you . . ." His voice rasped across thewords. "Do I not?""Yes," Kirk said. "And I, you.""My father says you have been my friend. You cameback for me.""You would have done the same for me," Kirk said,willing Spock to remember something from before, something thathad happened before they brought him home."Why would you do this?" Spock asked."Because was Kirk fumbled for words that would form even atenuous connection between past and present. "Because theneeds of the one outweighed the needs of the many."Spock stared down at him, still without realrecognition. He turned away again and took afew uncertain296 The Search For Spocksteps toward his father, toward the other Vulcans.Kirk reached out, but he knew he had been right whenearlier he prevented Saavik from stopping him. Theymight provide a key, but none could force Spockto remember.What could I have said? he wondered. What was theright thing?He let his hands fall.A few paces away, Spock paused. Helooked up into the deep sky."I have been . . ." he said.At his strained and tortured voice,Jim moved instinctively toward him."... and always shall be ... your friend....""Yes," Jim whispered. "Yes, Spock."Spock half turned. "The ship," he said."Out of danger. . . ?""You saved the ship, Spock You saved us all!Don't you remember?"Spock said nothing for a moment. He cocked hishead, as if listening to some far-away inner voice.He arched his eyebrow and slowly faced JimKirk."Jim," he said softly. "Your name is Jim.""Yes!" Jim's voice broke, and he caughthis breath.Spock nodded once, briefly, as ifacknowledging to himself that he had found the proper path.He glanced at McCoy, and then at the others.Suddenly all his old shipmates clustered aroundhim, laughing and crying at the same time. None of themknew for certain an instant of what the future wouldbring, but each knew that for now, for this moment, everythingwas all right.297 COMPLETELY NEW NOVELS JoinCaptain Kirk. Mr. Spock and the crew of theEnterprise in totally originaladventures. Writtenby an array of major science fiction authors.these Journeys through the galaxies are sparklinglyfresh and exciting sagas.. 832972 THE ABODE OF LIFE by LeeCorrey S2.95 836323 BLACK FIREby Sonni CooperS3.50 838927 THEENTROPY EFFECT by Vonda N. McIntyreS2.95 47720It THE KLINGON GAMBITby Robert E. Vardeman S2.95 833987 THEPROMETHEUS DESIGNby Sondra Marshak and Myrna CulbreathS2.95. 47380 THE WOUNDED SKY by DlaneDuaneS3 50 . 47315 YESTERDAY SSON by A. C. CrispinS2 95 46541MUTINY ON THE ENTERPRISE by R. E.Vardeman S2.95 46543 THE TRELLISANECONFRONTATION by David Dvorkin S3.5047390-5 CORQNA by Greg Bear S2.9547388-3 THE FINAL REFLECTION by JohnM. Ford S3.5049500-3 STAR TREK lil THE SEARCHFOR SPOCK by Vonda N. McIntyreS3.50 -- " BOOKS BY MAILtilde 4 tilde 3205teelcaw Roar) E.Markham Ontario L3Rather 2M1Please send me the books I have checked above.l am enclos tilde ng a total of distilde(please add 75 cents for postage and handling.)My cheque or money order is enclosed. (nocash or C.o.d. s please.)Name Apt-Prov Postal Code Pricessubject to change without notice (c304) .7I'I" ..
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Paramount Pictures Presents a Harve
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STAR TREKS iii THE SEARCH FOR
SPOCK Starring WILLIAM SHATNER DEFOREST
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tilde betilde THE BERRY 5PO[N
Chapter 1
Spock was dead.
The company of the Enterprtse gathered together on the
recreation deck to remember their friend.
Dr. Leonard McCoy, ship's surgeon,
moved half a pace into the circle. As he raised
his glass in a final toast, he glanced at each of
his compatriots in turn.
Admiral James Kirk and Dr. Carol
Marcus stood on either side of Carol's grown
son, David Marcus. David was Jim's son,
as well, unknown until now, but now acknowledged.
Commander Uhura, Chief Engineer Montgomery
Scott, Commander Pavel Chekov, and Hikaru
Sulu, recently promoted to captain, had
clustered together along one arc of the circle. Every
member of the ship's company showed the strain of the harrowing
past few days, except Lieutenant Saavik.
Her Vulcan training required her to be
imperturbable, and so she appeared. If her
Romulan upbringing gave her the capacity to feel
STAR TREK 111
grief or loss or anger at the death of
Spock, her teacher, McCoy could see no shadow
of the emotions.
McCoy had known the rest of the ship's company, the
trainees, only a short time, not even long enough
to learn their names. He knew for sure only that they
were terribly young.
"To Spock," McCoy said. "He gave his
life for ours."
"To Spock," they replied in unison, except
for Jim, who brought his attention back to the ship from
some other time, some other place, a thousand
light-years distant.
A moment after the others had spoken, he said,
"To Spock."
Everyone else drank. McCoy put his glass
to his lips. The pungent odor of Kentucky
bourbon rose around his face. He grimaced. The
liquor was raw and new, straight out of the ship's
synthesiser. He had nothing better. The Enterpr
tilde se's mission had been an emergency, an
unexpected voyage into tragedy, and Leonard
McCoy had come most poorly prepared.
He lowered the drink without tasting it.
"To Peter," Montgomery Scott said.
His young nephew, Cadet Peter Preston, had
also died in the battle that took Spock's life.
Scott made as if to say more, could not get out the
words, and instead drained his glass in one gulp.
Again, McCoy could not bring himself to choke down any
liquor.
When all the glasses had been refilled,
David Marcus stepped forward.
"To our friends on Spacelab," he said.
McCoy pretended to drink. He felt as if the
alcohol fumes alone were making him drunk.
When no one else came forwardto propose a
toast, the quiet circle dissolved into small
groups. Almost everyone had begun to feel the effects
of the liquor, but the drinking was a futile effort
to numb their grief.
The Search For Spock
Whose stupid idea was it to have a wake, anyway?
McCoy wondered. Who thought this
would help? And then he remembered, Oh, right, it
was me and Scott.
He orbited the serving table. It gleamed with an
array of bottles. He picked one up, paying little
attention to what it was, and filled another
glass. McCoy and Scott had spent all day
preparing for the wake. The synthesiser had tried
to keep up with their programming, but it was badly
overloaded. Ethyl alcohol was a simple enough
chemical, but the congeners any decent liquor
required were foreign to the ship's data banks.
Everything smelled the same strong and rough.
Montgomery Scott beetled toward McCoy,
stopped, and gazed blankly at the table full of
half-emptied bottles. McCoy picked one at
random and handed it to the ships chief engineer.
"That's scotch," he said. "Or anyway,
close enough."
Scott's eyes were glazed with exhaustion and
grief.
"I recall a time, when the lad was nobbut a
bairn, that he. . ." Scott stopped, unable
to continue the story. "I recall a time when Mr.
Spock..." He stopped again and drank straight from
the bottle, choking on the first gulp, but swallowing and
swallowing again. Obsession and compulsion drove him.
He and McCoy had
planned the wake and insisted on holding it, though
it was foreign to the traditions of most of the people on board
and quite alien to the traditions of one of its
subjects.
"This isna helping, doctor," Scotty said.
"I canna bear it any longer."
McCoy climbed onto a chair. Looking
down, he hesitated. The deck lay
ridiculously far away and at a strange angle,
as if the artificial gravity had gone on the
blink. McCoy steadied himself and stepped up on the
table, placing his feet carefully between bottles bright
STAR TREK 111
with amber. Then he remembered an alien liquor
called "amber" by Earth people. He had not ordered it from
the synthesiser because it required the inclusion of an
alien insect to bring out its fullest flavor, like
wormwood in absinthe. McCoy felt vaguely
sick.
His foot brushed one of the bottles quite gently,
he thought and the bottle crashed onto its side. It
spun around and its contents gurgled out, spilling across
the table, splashing on the floor. McCoy ignored
it.
"This is a wake, not a funeral!" he said, then
stopped, confused. Somehow that sounded wrong. He
started again. "We're here to celebrate the lives of
our friends not to mourn their deaths!" Everyone was
looking at him. That bothered him until he thought,
Why did you get up on the table, if you didn't
want everyone to look at you?
"Grief," McCoy said slowly, "is not
logical."
"Bones," Jim Kirk said from below and slightly
behind him, "come down from there."
Even in his odd mental state, McCoy could
hear the edge in Kirk's voice. I backslash
venty years of friendship, and Kirk was still perfectly
capable of pulling rank. McCoy turned and
staggered. Jim grabbed his forearm and tightened his grip
more than necessary.
"Whatever possessed you to say such a thing?"
Kirk said angrily. Even the anger was
insufficient to hide the pain.
"Don't know what you mean," McCoy said.
Permitting Admiral Kirk to help him, he
stepped down from the table with careful dignity.
David Marcus had inherited his mother's tolerance
for alcohol. He had drunk several shots of some
concoction as powerful and as tasteless as everclear.
Despite a certain remoteness to his perceptions,
he felt
The Search For Spock
desperately sober. His hands remained
rock-steady, and his step was sure.
McCoy and Scott had insisted, cajoled,
ordered, and bullied until nearly the whole ship's
company congregated in the recreation hall for this
ridiculous wake. Alone or in pairs, people stood
scattered throughout the enormous chamber. Across the
room, Dr. McCoy and Admiral Kirk
exchanged words. Kirk looked both angry and
concerned. McCoy adopted a belligerent air.
They're both completely pickled, David
thought. Fixed like microscope slides. James
T. Kirk, hero of the galaxy, is drunk. My
illegitimate father is drunk.
David had not yet quite come to terms with the recent
revelation of his parentage.
"Dr. Marcus his
David started. He had been so deep in thought that
he had-not noticed Captain Sulu's approach.
"It'd probably be easier if everybody just
called me David," he said.
"David, then," Sulu said. "I understand that I
owe you some thanks."
David looked at him blankly.
"For saving my life?" Sulu said, with a
bit of a smile.
David blushed. He automatically glanced at
Sulu's hands, which had been badly seared by the
electrical shock from which David had revived him.
The artificial skin covering the burns glistened
slightly.
Sulu turned his hands palm-up. "This comes off
in a couple of days there won't even be any
scars."
"I almost killed you," David said.
'iWhat?"
"It's true I did resuscitation o n you.
It's also true that I did it wrong. I'd never
done it before. I'm not a medical doctor, I'm
only a biochemist."
"Nevertheless, I'm alive because of what you did.
STAR TREK 111
Whether you erred or not, you kept me from death or
brain damage."
"I still screwed up." Like I may have screwed
up everything I've done for the last two years,
David thought.
"It might not matter to you," Sulu said. "But it
makes some difference to me." He turned
away.
David blushed again, realising how churlish and
self-cantered he had sounded. "Captain . . .
uh . . ." He had no idea how to apologise.
Sulu stopped and faced David again.
"David," he said, carefully and kindly, "I
want to give you some advice. When we get back
to Earth, you and your mother are going to be the center of some
very concentrated attention. Some of it will be critical,
some of it will be flattering. At first you'll think the
abuse is the hardest thing to take. But after a while,
you'll see that handling compliments gracefully is an
order of magnitude more difficult." He paused.
David looked at the floor, then raised his
head and met Sulu's gaze.
"But I need to learn to do it?" David asked.
"Yes," Sulu said. "You do."
"I'm sorry," David said. "I really am
glad you're okay. I didn't mean to sound
indifferent. After they took you to sick bay I
realised I'd done the procedure wrong. I
didn't know if you'd make it."
"Dr. Chapel assures me that I'll make
it."
David noticed that Sulu avoided
mentioning McCoy, but thought better of saying so. He
had stuck his foot in his mouth far enough for one day.
"I'm glad I could do something," David said.
Sulu nodded and walked away. David had not
noticed if Sulu drank during the toasts, but the
young captain appeared to be completely sober.
The Search For Spock
He might be the only sober person on the ship
right now, David thought.
But then David saw Lieutenant Saavik,
all alone, watching the party without expression. He
watched her, in turn, for several minutes. Back
on Regulus I, she had told him that Spock was
the most important influence in her life. He had
rescued her from the short, brutal life that a
halfbreedchild on an abandoned Romulan
colony world could look forward to. Spock had
overseen her education. He had nominated her to a
place in the Starfleet Academy. He was,
David supposed, the nearest thing she had to a
family. That was a delicate subject. She
seldom discussed how the cross that produced her must
have come about.
David walked up quietly behind her.
"Hello, David," she said, without
turning, as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Hi," he said, trying to pretend she had not
startled him with her preternatural senses. "Can I
get you a drink?"
"No. I never drink alcohol."
"Why not?"
"It has an unfortunate effect on me."
"But that's the whole point. It would help you
loosen up. It would help you forget."
"Forget what?"
"Grief. Sadness. Mr. Spock's death."
"I am a Vulcan. I experience neither grief
nor sadness."
"You're not all Vulcan."
She ignored the comment. "In order to forget Mr.
Spock's death, David, I would have to forget Mr.
Spock. That, I cannot do. I do not wish to.
Memories of him are all around me. At times it
is as if he was She stopped. "I will not forget
him," she said.
STAR TREK 111
"I didn't mean you should try. I just meant that a
drink might make you feel better."
"As I explained, its effects on me
are not salutary."
"What happens?"
"You do not want to know."
"Sure I do. I'm a scientist, remember?
Always on the lookout for something to investigate."
She looked him in the eye and said,
straight-faced, "It causes me to regress.
It permits the Romulan elements of my character to
predominate."
David grinned. "Oh, yeah? Sounds interesting
to me."
"You would not like it."
"Never know until you try."
"Have you ever met a Romulan?"
"Nope."
"You are," she said drily, "quite fortunate."
Carol Marcus felt very much alone at Mr.
Spock's wake. She sat on the arm of a couch,
concealed by the subdued light and shadows of a corner of the
room. She felt grateful for the translucent
wall that alcohol put between her and the other people, between her
and her own emotions. She knew that the purpose of a
wake was to release emotions, but she held her
grief in tight check. If she loosed it, she was
afraid she would go mad.
The pitiful gathering insulted the memory of her
friends more than exalting it. Perhaps Mr. Scott and
Dr. McCoy believed it adequate for Captain
Spock and Mr. Scott's young nephew. But the
mourning of a few veteran Starfleet members and a
surreptitiously drunken class of cadets,
barely more than children, gave Carol no comfort for the
loss of her friends on the Spacelab team. She
kept expecting to hear Del March's
The Search For Spock
cheerful profanity, or Zinaida
Chitirih-Ra-Payjh's soft and musical
laugh. She expected Jedda Adzhin-Dall
to stride past, cloaked in the glow of a Deltan's
unavoidable sexual attraction. And she expected
at every moment to hear Vance
Madison's low, beautiful voice, or to glance
across the room and meet his gaze, or to reach out and
touch his gentle hand.
None of those things would ever happen again. Her
collaborators, her friends, were dead, murdered in
vengeance for someone else's error.
Jim Kirk managed to get McCoy down from the
table and away from the center of attention before the
doctor had made too much of a fuss, and, Kirk
hoped, without making a fool of either of them.
"I think you've drunk too much, Bones," he
said.
"Me?" McCoy said. "I haven't had nearly
enough."
Kirk tried to restrain his anger at McCoy's
juvenile behavior. "Why don't you get some
sleep? You'll feel better in the moming."
"I'll feel awful in the morning, Jim-boy.
And the morning after that, and his
"You'll feel worse if you have to deal with a
hangover and the results of a big mouth."
McCoy frowned at him blearily, obviously
not understanding. Kirk felt a twinge of unease.
McCoy generally made sense, even when he had had
a few too many. In fact, his usual reaction
to tipsiness was to become more direct and pithier.
Kirk glanced around, seeking Chris Chapel. He
hoped that between them they might get McCoy either
sobered up or asleep. Chapel was nowhere to be
seen. He could hardly blame her for avoiding the
wake. He wished he were somewhere else himself. He
had come only because McCoy insisted. Jim
supposed Chris had decided that the hard time
STAR TREK In
McCoy and Scotty would give her for absenting
herself would be less unpleasant than attending. Jim
suspected she was right.
"Come on, Bones," he said. Back in sick
bay, the doctor might be persuaded to prescribe
himself a hangover remedy and go to bed.
"Not going anywhere," McCoy said. He
shrugged his arm from Kirk's grasp. "Going over
there." He walked slowly and carefully to an
armchair and settled into it as if he planned
to remain till dawn. Getting him to his cabin now
would create a major scene. On the other hand,
McCoy no longer looked in the mood to make
proclamations. Jim sighed and left him where he
was.
Jim wandered over to Carol. She was alone,
surrounded by shadows. They had barely had time to talk
since meeting again. Jim was not
altogether sure she wanted to talk to him. He did
want to talk to her, though, about her life since they
last had seen each other, twenty years ago. But
mostly he wanted to talk to her about David. Jim
was getting used to the idea of having a grown
son. He was beginning to like the idea of coming to know the young
man.
"Hi, Carol," he said.
"Jim."
Her voice was calm and controlled. He
remembered that she had always been able to drink
everybody under the table and never even show it.
"I was thinking about Spacelab," she said. "And the
people I left behind. Especially his
"You did fantastic work there, you and David."
"It wasn't just us, it was the whole team. I never
worked with such an incredible group before. We got
intoxicated on each other's ideas. I could guide
it, but Vance was the catalyst. He was extraordinary
his
"Spock spoke highly of them all," Jim
said. It
The Search For Spock
surprised him, to be able to say his friend's name so
easily.
"dance was the only one who could keep his partner from
going off the deep end. He had a sort of inner
stillness and calm that his
"They were the ones who designed computer
games on the side? A couple of the cadets were
talking about them."
"dis . . that affected us all."
"David and our Lieutenant Saavik seem
to be hitting it off pretty well," Jim said.
David and Saavik stood together on the other side
of the recreation hall, talking quietly.
"I suppose so," Carol said without expression.
"She has a lot of promise Spock had great
confidence in her."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry I had to meet David and you and
I had to meet again in such unhappy
circumstances," he said.
The look in her eyes was cold and bitter and
full of pain.
"That's one way to put it," she said.
"Carol his
"I'm going to bed," she said abruptly. She
stood up and strode out of the recreation room.
Jim followed her. "I'll walk you to your
cabin," he said. He took her silence for
acquiescence.
With some curiosity, Saavik watched Admiral
Kirk and Dr. Marcus leave together. Of
course she knew that they had been intimate many
years before. She wondered if they intended to resume
their relationship. She had observed the customs of
younger humans, students, while she was in the
Academy, however, and
STAR TREK 111
she now noted the absence of any indication of strong
attraction between Marcus and Kirk. Perhaps older
humans observed different customs, or perhaps these
two individuals were simply shy. Mr. Spock
had told her that she must learn to understand human beings.
As a project for her continuing education in their
comprehension, she resolved to study the admiral and the
doctor closely and see what transpired.
After Dr. Marcus and the admiral left the
recreation hall, Saavik returned her attention
to the gathering as a whole. She wondered if there were
something in particular she was supposed to do. Keeping
her own customs after the deaths of Mr. Spock and
Peter Preston, she had watched over their bodies
the night before Mr. Spock's funeral. Only
yesterday morning she stood with the rest of the ship's
company and sent his coffin accelerating toward the
Genesis planet. She wished she could have
sent young Peter's body into space, too. He had
loved the stars, and Saavik believed it would have
pleased him to become star-stuff. But his body was the
responsibility of Chief Engineer Scott,
who had decreed he must be taken back to Earth and
buried in the family plot.
Everyone assumed Captain Spock's casket
would burn up in the outer atmosphere of the Genesis
world. So Admiral Kirk had intended. But
Saavik had disobeyed his order. Instead, she
programmed a course that intersected the last fading
resonance of the Genesis effect. When the coffin
encountered the edge of the wave, matter had exploded
into energy. Within the wave, the energy that had been
Spock's body coalesced into sub-quarkian
particles, thence, in almost unmea-surable fractions
of a second, to normal atomic matter. He was
now a part of that distant world. He was gone. She would
never see him again.
The Search For Spock
She wondered how long she would be affected by the
persistent, illogical certainty that he remained
nearby.
"David," she said suddenly, "what is
the purpose of this gathering?"
David hesitated, wondering if he understood it
well enough to explain it to anyone else. "It's a
tradition," he said. "It's like Dr. McCoy said
a while ago, it's to celebrate the lives of people
who have died."
"Would it not make more sense to celebrate while a
person is still living?"
"How would you know when to have the
celebration?"
"You would have it whenever you liked. Then no death would
be necessary. The person being celebrated could attend the
party, and no one would have to feel sad."
David wondered if she were pulling his leg. He
decided that was an unworthy suspicion. Besides,
he could see her point.
"The thing is," he said, "the funeral yesterday,
and the wake today . . . they aren't really for the people who
died."
"I do not understand."
"They're for the people who are left behind. People humans,
I mean need to express their feelings. Otherwise
we bottle them up inside and they make us sick."
This sounded like the purest hocus-pocus
to Saavik, who had spent half her life
learning to control her emotions.
"You mean," she said" "this procedure is meant
to make people feel better?"
"That's right."
STAR TREK 111
"Then why does everyone look so unhappy?"
David could not help it. He laughed.
The door to Carol's cabin sensed her and slid
open. She stopped. Jim stopped. Carol said
nothing. Jim tried to decide on exactly the right
words.
"Carom"
"Good night, Jim."
"But his
"Leave me alone!" she said. The evenness of her
voice dissolved in anger.
"I thought . . ."
"What? That you could come along after twenty years and
pick up again right where you left off?"
"I was thinking more in terms of "we.""
"Oh, that's cute there never was any
"we!"""
"There's David."
"Do you think you're so great in bed that no
woman would ever want another man after you? Do you
think I've spent all these years just waiting for you
to come back?"
"NO, of course not. But was He stopped. That
she might be involved with someone else simply had not
occurred to him, and he was embarrassed to admit it.
"Of course I didn't mean that," he said. "But
we were good together, once, and we're both alone his
"Alone!" Her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
"Carol, I don't understand."
"dance Madison and I were lovers!"
"I didn't realise," he said lamely.
"You would have, if you'd listened. I've been trying
to talk about him. I just wanted to talk about him
to somebody. Even to you. I want people to remember what
he was like. He
deserves to be remembered. I dream about
him I dream about the way he died his
The Search For Spock
Jim took a step backward, retreating from the
fury and accusation in her voice. His old enemy,
Khan Singh, had murdered all the members of the
Genesis team except Carol and David. The people
he captured refused to give him the information
he demanded, so he killed them. He opened a vein
in Madison's throat and let him slowly bleed
to death.
Carol flung herself into her cabin. The door
slid shut behind her, cutting Jim Kirk off, all
alone, in the passageway outside.
David finally stopped laughing. He wiped his
eyes. Saavik hoped he would explain to her what
he found so funny.
She watched him intently. He looked up. Their
gazes met.
He glanced quickly away, then back again.
David's eyes were a clear, intense blue.
She reached toward him, realised what she was doing,
and froze. David touched her before she could draw
away.
"What is it?" he said. He wrapped his fingers
around her hand in an easy grip.
He could not hold her hand without her
acquiescence, for she could crush his bones with a
single clenching of her fist. This she had no intention of
doing.
"For many years," Saavik said, "I have tried
to be Vulcan."
"I know."
David was one of the few people with whom she had ever
discussed her background. Though she had learned
to control her strongest emotions most of the time, she
never pretended to herself that they were nonexistent.
"But I am not all Vulcan, and I will never
be," she
STAR TREK 111
said, "any more than Mr. Spock. He said to me
. . ." She paused, uncertain how David would
react. "He said I was unique, and that I must
find my own path."
"Good advice for anybody," David said.
Saavik drew her hand from David's grasp and
picked up his drink. She barely tasted it. The
raw, unaged alcohol slid fiery across her
tongue, and the potent fumes seemed to go straight
to her brain. She put down the glass. David
watched her curiously.
"David," she said hesitantly, "I am under
the impression that you have positive feelings toward
me. Is that true?"
"It's very true," he said.
"Will you help me find my path?"
"If I can."
"Will you come to my cabin with me?"
"Yes," he said. "I will."
"Now?"
In reply, he put his hand in hers again, and they
walked together from the recreation hall.
Jim Kirk strode down the corridor,
upset, angry, embarrassed.
He nearly ran into his son and Lieutenant
Saavik.
"Oh Hi, kids." He collected himself
quickly. Long years of experience had made him an
expert at hiding distress from subordinates.
"Uh . . . hi," David said. Saavik said
nothing; she simply gazed at him with her cool
imperturbability.
"Got to be too much for you in there?" Kirk said,
nodding toward the rec hall behind them. "I never should have
let McCoy and Scott have their way about it."
They looked at him without replying. After a long
hesitation, Saavik finally spoke.
The Search For Spock
"Indeed," she said, -- "it is not a ceremony
Captain Spock would have approved. It is neither
logical nor rational."
Kirk flinched at the echoes of Spock's
voice in Saavik's words. He had known Spock
longer than she had, but she had spent more time working with the
Vulcan in the past few years, when Kirk was tied
to a desk by an unbreakable chain of paperwork.
"Perhaps you're right," he said. "But funerals and
wakes aren't for the person who is dead, they're for the
people left behind."
"It is interesting," Saavik said, "that David
said precisely the same thing. I fail, however,
to grasp this explanation."
"It isn't easily explained," Kirk said.
"And I can understand why you wouldn't think of Spock in
relation to a gathering where everybody was doing their best
to get drunk. I was going to go to the observation deck,
instead. Have either of you been up there? David,
surely you haven't had a chance to see it. Would you like
to come along?"
"I am familiar with the observation deck,"
Saavik said.
"I'd sure like to see it," David said, "any
other time. But Lieutenant Saavik wanted
to check some readings on the bridge."
Kirk glanced from David, to Saavik, and
back. Saavik started to say something, but
stopped. A blush colored David's
transparently fair
complexion. Kirk realised that he had put his
foot in his mouth for the second time in ten minutes.
He, too, began to blush.
"I see," he said. "Important work. Carry
on, then." He turned and strode quickly away.
Saavik watched him until he had passed out of
sight around a corner.
STAR TREK lll
"Nothing needs to be checked on the bridge,
David," she said.
"I had to say something," David said. "I
didn't want to discuss our personal affairs with
him. It isn't any of his business."
"But why did he not remind you that the computer would
announce any change in the ship's status?"
"I don't know," David said, though he knew
perfectly well.
"He has not commanded a starship in a long time,"
she said. "Perhaps he forgot."
"That must be it."
They continued down the corridor to Saavik's
cabin. Inside, David blinked, waiting
for his eyes to accustom themselves to the low light. The
room held no decorations, only the severe
furnishings standard issue in Starfleet, but the warm
and very dry air carried a hot, resiny scent, like the
sunbaked pitch of pine trees at high noon in
summer.
Saavik stopped with her back to David.
"Saavik," David said, "I just want you to know
maybe we don't need to worry, but where I was
raised it's good manners to tell you I passed all
my exams in biocontrol. his
"I, too," she said softly. "I always regarded
learning to regulate the reproductive ability
merely as an interesting exercise. Until now . .
."
Her voice trailed off.
David realised that she was trembling. He put
his hands gently on her shoulders.
"I have traveled far, and I have seen much,"
Saavik said. "I have studied.... But study and
action are very different."
"I know," David said. "It's all right, it will
be all right."
Saavik reached up, and her hair fell free
around her
The Search For Spock
shoulders. It was thick and soft and dark, and it
smelled of evergreens.
Jim Kirk did go to the observation deck. He
opened the portals and spent a long time staring at the
stars. After a while, the romantic in his soul
overcame the admiral in his mind. The pain and
grief surrounding Spock's death eased, the
embarrassing encounter with David and Saavik began
to seem humorous, and even his
misunderstanding of Carol's wishes became less
lacerating in his memory. The whole galaxy lay
around hirn.
He fancied he could still see the star of the Genesis
world, far behind, a hot white star red-shifted toward
yellow as the Enterprise raced away, an
unimposing young star made fuzzy by the planetary
nebula that surrounded it, by the remnants of the
Mutara Nebula. The matter in the nebula had
been blasted apart by the Genesis wave, blasted beyond
atoms, beyond subatomic particles, beyond quarks,
down to the subelementary particles that Vance
Madison and his partner Del March had whimsically
named
"sparks" and "boojums."
Khan Singh had set off the Genesis wave in
an attempt to destroy Jim Kirk, an
attempt that had very nearly succeeded. Thus he set
in
motion what? Even Carol could not say. The
resonances in the wave were designed to work upon a very
different environment. No one could know what had come
into existence on the
Genesis world without going back and exploring it.
Jim Kirk had many reasons for wanting to see that
done and, what was more, for wanting to do it himself.
First he had to return to Earth. To accomplish that,
he needed a crew that in the morning would be able to think
of something other than their hangovers. Realiz
lg
STAR TREK 111
ing that he had been up here all alone for nearly
an hour, he decided it was about time to go back to the
recreation deck and shut things down.
He closed the portals against the stars.
David dozed in the intoxicating warmth of
Saavik's body. Vulcans and, David
supposed, Romulans, too had a body
temperature several degrees above that of
human beings.
"Lying next to you is like Iying in the shade on a
hot summer's day," Saavik said.
David chuckled sleepily. "You must be
psychic."
"Only slightly," she said. "Vulcans and
Romulans both have the ability in some measure.
My talent for it is quite limited. But why do you say
so now?"
"I was just thinking that Iying next to you is like being in
the sun on the first warm day of spring."
She turned suddenly toward him and hugged him
close. Her hair fell across his shoulders. He
put his arms around her and held her. She had been
raised first among Romulans who rejected her,
then in the Vulcan tradition which denied any need for
closeness or passion. He wondered if anyone had
ever held her before.
She drew back and lay beside him, barely touching
him, as if ashamed of her instant's impulse.
David was not so ready to ignore the intimacy.
He traced the smooth, strong line of
Saavik's collarbone with the tip of one finger. He
had never been with anyone like her in his life. He
caressed the hollow of her throat and cupped
his hand around the point of her left shoulder. He had
felt the scar on her smooth skin earlier, but just then
the time had been wrong for questions. Now, though, he
touched the scar in the dark and found it to be a complex,
regular pattern.
"How'd you get that?" he asked.
She said nothing for so long that David wondered if
The Search For Spock
his bad habit of asking questions off the top of his
head had got him into trouble again.
"Sorry," he said. "Idle curiosity it's
none of my business."
"It is a Romulan family mark," Saavik
said.
"A family mark!" She had told him that she
did not know the identity of either of her parents, that she
did not even know which parent was Vulcan and which
Romulan. "Does that mean you could find your
family?"
"David," she said, and he thought he could detect
a hint of dry humor in her voice, "why would I
want to find my Romulan family?"
Since the likelihood was that a Romulan had
borne or sired her in order
to demonstrate complete power over a Vulcan
prisoner, David could see her point.
"I never heard of family marks," he said.
"That is not surprising. Information about them may
only be passed on orally. It is a capital
crime in the Romulan empire to make permanent
records of them. his
"Why don't you have the mark removed?
Doesn't it remind you of unpleasant times?"
"I do not wish to forget those times," Saavik said,
"any more than I wish to forget Mr. Spock.
All those memories are important to me. Besides,
it may have its use, someday."
"How?"
"Should I have the misfortune to encounter my
Romulan parent, it is absolute proof of our
relationship."
"But if you don't want to know your Romulan
parent . . ."
"The family mark permits me to demand
certain rights," Saavik said. "It would be
considered very bad manners to refuse a family
member's challenge to a death-duel."
STAR TREK 111
"A duel!"
"Yes. How else avenge myself? How else
avenge my Vulcan parent, who surely died with
my birth?"
David lay back on the narrow bunk, stunned
by Saavik's matterof-fact discussion of deep,
implacable hatred.
"I never thought of Vulcans as demanding an eye
for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."
"But I am not as Vulcans never cease to remind
me a proper Vulcan."
"Wouldn't it be easier, wouldn't it be safer, to I
don't know, sue the Romulans for
reparations?"
"Spoken like a truly civilised human,"
Saavik said. "But if I am only half a
Vulcan, I am in no part human. Mr.
Spock was right I must follow my own path."
David moved his hand from her shoulder. The intensity
of her feelings surprised him, though it should not, not
any more, not after tonight.
"Don't worry, David," Saavik said, in
response to his unease. "I am hardly going
to defect to the Romulan empire in order to find a
creature I have no real wish to meet. The
chance of my ever meeting my Romulan parent is
vanishingly small."
"I guess," David said. The Federation had,
at best, fragile diplomatic relations with the
Romulans. It was a connection like a fuse,
continually threatening to burst into flame and ignite a more
serious conflagration.
Saavik guided his hand back to her shoulder.
"It feels good when you touch it," she said. "The
coolness of your hand is soothing."
"Were you born with it? Or is it a tattoo?"
"Neither. It is a brand."
"A brand!"
"They apply it soon after one is out of the womb."
"Gods, what a thing to do to a little baby. Good thing
you can't remember it."
The Search For Spock
"What makes you think I cannot remember it?"
Horrified, David said, "You mean you can?"
"Of course. The white glow is the first beautiful
thing I ever encountered, and its touch was the first pain. Do
you not remember your own birth?"
"No, not at all. I don't have any reliable
memories before I was two or three. Most
people don't."
"But most people do, David," Saavik said. "At
least, in my experience. Perhaps you mean most humans
do not?"
"Yeah," David said. "Sorry. Bad
habit."
"No offence taken. I am always glad to learn
something new about a fellow intelligent species.
The last few hours have been very rewarding. I have
learned a great deal."
David did not know quite how to take that, so he
replied with an inarticulate "Hmm?"
"Yes," Saavik said. "I feel that my
experiments have been most instructive."
"Is that all I am to you?" David said. "An
experiment?" He suddenly felt very hurt and
disappointed, and he realised that his attraction toward
Saavik was a great deal more than
physical, something much deeper and much
stronger.
"That is one of the things you are to me," she said in an
even tone. "'And not the least. But not the most, either.
You have helped me learn that I have capabilities
I believed I did not possess."
"Like the capacity to love?"
"I . . . I am unprepared to make that
claim. I do not even comprehend the concept."
David laughed softly. "Neither does anybody
else."
"Indeed? My research is unfinished I thought
I simply had not encountered a satisfactory
definition."
"It isn't something you can quantify."
"Someone should conduct experiments."
STAR TREK 111
"Experiments!" David said, slightly shocked.
"Certainly. Perhaps we might collaborate on
a paper.
"Saavik his
"I have heard a speculation. I am curious
to know whether it is true, or merely
apocryphal."
"All right," David said, beyond surprise.
"What speculation is that?"
Saavik turned toward him, propped herself
tilde up on one elbow, and let her hair spill
over his shoulder and across his chest.
"It is," she said, "that Romulans are
insatiable. Would you care to test this
hypothesis?"
David laughed. He reached up and touched her
face in the dark. He traced the lines of her
lips, and found that she was smiling. She had just
discovered another capability that few people would
suspect her of possess-ing. She had a
terrific sense of humor.
"Why don't we do that?" David sai d.
- Jim Kirk strode into the recreation hall.
The wake had deteriorated even further.
Cadets stood alone or in small groups, sinking
into silent depression. Scott clutched a drink and
talked continuously and intensely to a single captive
trainee. McCoy lay sprawled in his chair. As
a catharsis, this gathering was a wretched failure.
It succeeded only in intensifying everyone's feelings
of pain and loss and guilt. Kirk stopped by a
small group of cadets.
"I think it's about time to pack it in for the night,"
he said. "You're all dismissed."
"Yessir," one of the cadets said. Her
relieved smile, quick, and quickly hidden, was the first
smile Kirk had seen all day.
The cadets, just waiting for an excuse to escape
The Search For Spock
sepulchral atmosphere, all accepted his order
without objection or argument. The trainees still sober
enough to be ambulatory helped their friends who had
overin-dulged. Within a few minutes, the only
cadet left was the one listening to Mr. Scott's
tirade. Kirk joined them. The cadet looked
pale and drawn.
"Scatty was Kirk said, when Scott paused for
breath.
"Aye, Captain, life doesna make sense
sometimes, I was just sayin" to Grenni here, "tie the
good ones go before their time his
"Mr. Scott his
was there's no denyin" it. The boy had guts.
He had potential his
"Commander Scott!"
"Aye, sir? What's wrong, Admiral? Why
are ye soundin' so perturbed?"
Kirk sighed. "Perturbed, Mr. Scott?
Whatever makes you think I'm perturbed? You're
dismissed,
cadet." still
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." The
cadet's voice shook. still He fled.
"Mr. Scott, we'll reach Regulus tomorrow, and
I need a coherent crew. Go to bed."
"But my poor bairn I wished to have all o' us
sing a song for him. Do ye know "Danny Boy,"
Captain?"
"That's an order, Mr. Scott."
"Aye, sir." Scott commenced to sing. ""O
Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
?"'
"Mister Scott!"
Scott stopped singing and gazed at him blearily,
blinking and confused, as Kirk's tone finally got through
to him.
""Sing "Danny Boy"" is not an order.
"Go to bed" is an order."
"Oh. Begging your pardon, sir. Aye, sir."
STAR TREK 111
Scott glanced around him, as if searching for some-
thing. Suddenly he looked very tired and old. He
trudged away.
McCoy was the last member of the wake remaining.
Jim sat on his heels beside McCoy's chair.
The doctor snored softly.
"Bones," Jim said, shaking him softly.
"Bones, wake up."
McCoy flinched, muttered something incomprehen-
sible, and lapsed back into snoring.
"Come on, old friend." Jim dragged McCoy's
arm across his shoulder and hoisted him to his feet.
McCoy sagged against him and muttered a few more
words. Jim froze.
"What?"',
McCoy straightened up, swaying, and looked
Kirk directly in the eye.
"Using a metabolic poison as a recreational
drug is totally illogical."
McCoy collapsed.
..
Chapter 2
Dr. Christine Chapel watched herself function
efficiently. She felt very much like two different people,
one performing as she should, the other separated from the world
by shock. She felt numb and clumsy. That she could
function at all astonished her. Yet she did
what needed to be done, caring for the crew members,
mostly young cadets, who had been injured during
Khan
Singh's attacks; dispensing hangover remedies
to those who had neglected to take a preventive after
Mr. Spock's wake; and looking in
occasionally on Leonard McCoy. She was
extremely concerned about him.
She paused in the doorway of the cubicle in which
she and Admiral Kirk had put him the night before.
She left the lights on very low. She suspected that
when Leonard woke, his headache would be a credit
to its species.
He moaned and muttered something. Chris
moved
STAR TREK 111
farther into the small room, squinting to see better
in the dim light. Leonard tossed on the bunk, his
face shining with sweat. His tunic was soaked. Chris
felt his forehead. His temperature was elevated, not
yet dangerously so, but certainly enough to make him
uncomfortable.
"Leonard," she said softly.
He sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead.
Slowly he turned to look at her. He moved in
a way she had never seen him move before, but in a
way that was eerily familiar.
"Vulcans," he said, in a voice much lower
than his own, "do not love."
Chris took an involuntary step backward.
"How dare you say that to me?" she said, in a
quiet, angry voice. The pain pierced through the
numbness to her enclosed, repressed grief and
spread like fire through her. She turned, hiding her
face in her hands. She could not break down now. The
ship had to have a doctor, and McCoy was in no
shape to take over.
The obsession she had had with Spock for so long still
embarrassed her, though it had burned out years before.
She had forced herself beyond it by sheer determination and by the
power of the knowledge that what she desired from him, he simply
could not give. His inability to respond to her had
nothing to do with Christine Chapel. He had never had
the choice between "interested" and "uninterested." All his
training and experience required him to be disinterested,
and so he had behaved.
Once Chris accepted that, she began to
appreciate his unique integrity. It took a
long time for her to get over her youthful fantasies,
but once she did, her fondness for Spock
strengthened. Losing a friend, she had discovered in the
past few days, was much worse 28
The Search For Spock
than losing a remotely potential and
unrequiting lover. Accepting Spock's death, she
thought, would be an even longer and more difficult task
than persuading herself not that he never would love her, but
that he never could.
She took her hands from her face and
straightened up, under control again. This was a bad
time to cry. Leonard McCoy's sense of humor
was quirky, but not cruel. For him to say what he
had said to her meant either that something was seriously wrong
or the simplest, if least flattering, possibility
that he was still intoxicated.
Saavik woke suddenly and sat up, startled.
Mr. Spock was speaking to her. His deep voice still
echoed in her cabin. Saavik was not prepared
to answer hm.she was dazzled by strange dreams and
fantasies.
"But I am not a Vulcan," she said. "You said
to me his
She stopped. He was not here he had never been
here. Spock was gone.
Spock's voice had sounded so real . . . but
what she thought was reality was a cruel dream, and what
for a moment had seemed impossible
fantasy was real.
David lay sleeping beside her, cool and fair.
She touched his shoulder lightly. He stirred gently
but did not wake. Saavik wondered if she could be
going mad with grief, or with guilt. She did not
feel mad.
But Spock's voice had seemed so real . . .
Delicately, Farrendahl nibbled at the
fur-covered web of skin at the base of the first and
second fingers of her right paw. A bad habit,
she knew it, one-she had picked up from a human
shipmate who bit his nails. A human's nails
were such flimsy things that it hardly 29
STAR TREK 111
mattered whether they were damaged or properly
sharp, but Farrendahl would never sink so low as to bite
her claws. They were far too useful.
At times like these, though, she needed a nervous
habit to fall back on. Her primate-type
crewmates either objected to or thought amusing the more
obvious forms of grooming. Never mind that she found
them soothing. Farrendahl did not like to be laughed
at. Primates, humanoids as they preferred
to call themselves in Standard, could be astonishingly
repellent when they laughed.
Farrendahl sat on her haunches in the
navigator's hammock, chewing on her paw and
blinking at the unfamiliar stars. Having passed out
of Federation space and into the grey area between set
borders some hours before, the ship now fell under the
protection of no one. It had become potential
prey to all. This, Farrendahl disliked intensely.
A signal came through her console. She blinked
at it, too, then in response to the new order
changed the course of the ship for the third time in a single
circadian. The resulting course, if left
unchanged, would bring the ship face to face with the
Klingons. This, Farrendahl disliked even more.
No wonder their mysterious passenger was unwilling
to name a destination. No wonder the ship's grapevine
sprouted rumors of an enormous payment to the
captain. Great wonder, though, if the captain
passed on part of his largesse in the crew's
bonuses without a confrontation.
"I dislike the scent of this," Farrendahl said.
She growled softly in irritation. "It smelled
bad when we began, and its odor has become
progressively more putrid."
Her compatriot bared his teeth in that offensive
30
The Search For Spock
primate way, and an intermittent choking noise
came from his throat. In short, he laughed.
"Since when do cats learn anything useful from their
sense of smell?" he said.
Compatriot to A high-class word to apply
to any member of this ship's crew of ill-mannered,
poorly reared mercenaries.
"Since when," Farrendahl said to Tran, "have I
been a cat?" Instead of baring her teeth, which another
member of her own species would have recognised as a
threat, she placed her paw on the scarred control
panel. She stretched out her fingers so her paw
became a hand, then slowly extended her claws. The
sharp tips scratched the panel with a gradual,
hair-raising shriek.
"A cat?" Tran exclaimed. "Did I
call you a cat? Who in their right mind would call you
a cat?"
"I saw a cat once," Farrendahl said
matterof-factly. "It was digging through a garbage
heap in a back alley on Amenhotep IX. I
disliked it. Please explain the similarities between
it and me."
"Don't push it , Farrendahl."
"But I desire to be enlightened."
"All right. Both of you were in the back alley,
weren't you?"
Farrendahl leapt, knocking Tran to the deck.
The artificial gravity, set for economy's
sake at an annoyingly low intensity, turned her
attack and Tran's fall into a most
unsatisfactory series of slow bounces. But they
ended up as Farrendahl planned, with the human on the
floor and her claws and teeth at his throat. This was
a main reason she never bit her claws.
"And was there not an ugly monkey-looking
creature in that same back alley, only insensible
from noxious recreational drugs?"
"Probably there was," Tran said, laughing
again. 31
STAR TREK 111
Farrendahl bristled her whiskers out,
acknowledging Tran's good-humored surrender.
She was about to release him when the captain walked in
on them. He stopped, folded his arms across his chest,
and glared at the crew members.
"If you two haven't any work, I can find
some," he said. "We don't have time for your continual
horsing around."
Farrendahl growled softly and rose, extending
her hand to Tran to help him rise. He leaped
to his feet like a gymnast in the low gravity.
"A cat, a monkey, now a horse,"
Farrendahl said in a low voice. "Perhaps our
mysterious mission is to transport a menagerie."
Tran chuckled and returned to his place at the
control console.
"I heard that," the captain said. "Ten
demerits."
"You're in a charming mood today, Captain,"
Farrendahl said. She ignored the threat of
demerits. She had already earned so many that ten more
scarcely counted. Demerits were a source of great
hilarity among the crew, ever since the time they
precipitated a minor mutiny. One
planetfall, on a more or less civilised world and
after a long, boring journey, the captain forbade
Farrendahl, Tran, and several others to leave the
ship. Too many demerits, he said. Farrendahl
said nothing. She simply ignored him, and she and the
others went out anyway.
He could have left while they were rousting around. He
could have locked them off the ship and hired another
crew. But he stayed where he was, leaving the
ship open to them when they returned. Apparently he
preferred his tried and semi-competent, if
insolent, people to a new bunch that he would have to have
trained.
The Search For Spock
He continued to assign demerits, but that was the
only time he ever referred to them, and he never again
tried to use them for anything.
The captain ignored Farrendahl's smart
remark and paused at the control console.
Farrendahl despised him on every possible level.
He
possessed power and the title of captain not because he
deserved them or had earned them but simply because he
owned the ship. He knew little about running it and less
about the computers that formed its guts.
"Perhaps you are concerned that we will discover what you are
being paid for this trip," Farrendahl said, putting him
on notice that they all did know and that they all
expected their cut.
He glared at her as she slipped smoothly into the
navigator's hammock. He kept his silence.
He was a bully, but he was also a coward, and he
avoided any serious confrontation with
Farrendahl.
"When do we find out where we are really
going?"
"When you need to know," he said.
"Waste of fuel," Farrendahl said just loudly enough
for him to hear. It amused her that he would worry the
comment around in his mind, trying to find a way to conserve
the fuel wasted by their roundabout route. If he had ever
learned to pilot his ship himself, he would not have to depend
on Farrendahl. She supposed she should be
grateful for his lack of application.
The contempt in which she held him was
diluted by her awareness of her own failings and
limitations. She had been disappointed when, after the
"mutiny," the captain capitulated to his
impertinent crew. But she might have found another
berth whatever else she was, she was an able
navigator, and nabled tilde and then a shipmaster
turned up who was willing to waive small matters
like papers and background. She could have
STAR TREK 111
found another place, but she did not. Inertia
kept her in the same, riskless position. Beneath her
contempt for the captain lurked a certain
contempt for herself. Perhaps they deserved each other.
The captain remained by the console, his attitude
that of one studying the readings, his eyes with the blank
stare of someone who had no idea what he was looking
at.
"We're on course," Farrendahl said, "as
long as you don't have any more changes in mind.
Unless you do, I am going to sleep."
Lacking any reply, she slid from the hammock
and padded away toward her cabin.
David stepped out of the turbo-lift, onto the
bridge. Saavik, already on duty, glanced over
her shoulder at him. A look passed between them that they
innocently assumed no one else noticed or
understood. Saavik returned her attention to her work
as if it were easy for her. David wrestled himself
back to this morning and away from last night.
It must be nice, David thought, to have the ability
to control your feelings so completely. Being able
to focus one's attention on a single subject
gave remarkable results.
"Good morning, David," James Kirk said.
"Uh, hi." David could not bring himself to call
Kirk "father." More than twenty years lay between them,
years during which they could have known each other.
David wondered what he would be like if he had known
James Kirk as his father when it might have made a
difference. He had found some reason to respect the
Starfleet officer. Affection would take longer.
Kirk responded to David's unease. "How
would you feel about calling me 'Jim"?" 34
The Search For Spock
"Okay, I guess."
Kirk paused for a moment, then turned away again.
David realised had hurt the admiral's feelings
with his lukewarm response.
"This is going to take some getting used to," he
said.
"Yes," Kirk said. "For me, too. We need
to talk about it. In private." coma
David took the hint and kept the personal
matters to himself, saving them for someplace other than the
bridge of the Enterprise.
"There it is," Kirk said.
In the viewscreen, Regulus I hung dark and
mysterious before them. The barren worldlet had always given
David an eerie feeling. It had never evolved
life. It had never had a chance of evolving life.
It had no water and no air and too little gravity
to hold either one. But Genesis had changed
all that. The planetoid's interior had been
turned into an entire, new, inside-out world, one with
an ecosystem designed from scratch by Carol
Marcus' team. It was like a Jules Verne novel
brought to reality, and David was proud of his part in
creating it. The memory of the short time he had spent
beneath the surface of the world remained as a warm glow of
pride and power. He wanted to go back inside and
explore. No experiment ever turned out
precisely as one planned. David wanted
to discover the
unexpected results. They were always the most
interesting.
Spacelab drifted in its orbit, a shadowed
silver flash against the limb of the planetoid. The
Starfleet science ship Grissom lay in a
matching orbit, waiting for the Enterprise. The ship
and the laboratory satellite gradually entered the
shadow of their primary, vanishing into the featureless
darkness. David shivered. He had lived and worked
on the research station for two years. He had called
it home. Now it felt alien and threatening. If
STAR TREK 111
hauntings were possible, it must be haunted.
On Spacelab, no one was left alive. The
bodies of the people Khan Singh had murdered lay
waiting to be returned to Earth and to their graves.
As the transporter beam faded from the newly
materialised form of Captain J.t. Esteban,
James Kirk waited to greet him. Esteban
stepped down. They shook hands.
"Welcome aboard, J.t.," Kirk said.
"It's been a while."
"It has that," Esteban said. "An eventful
while, too. You folks have things in quite a tizzy,
back home."
Kirk led Esteban to the nearest turbo-lift.
"I don't believe I follow you," he said.
"Will Dr. Marcus-be available, Jim?"
J.t. said. "I need to talk to the both of you."
They stepped into the lift. "Officer's lounge,"
Jim said, and felt the faint acceleration as the lift
whisked them toward their destination. "I'll have Dr.
Marcus paged." Kirk contacted Uhura.
"Uhura, Kirk here. Would you ask Dr.
Marcus to meet Captain Esteban and me in the
officer's lounge?"
"Certainly, Admiral."
"Thanks. Kirk out. was He turned off
the
intercom. He could sense the tension in the captain
of the Grissom. "What's going on, J.t.?"
"I just think it would save time to talk to you both at
once." Esteban was deliberately
misunderstanding the question, and Jim did not push it. They
tried to make small talk, but it was strained.
"The galaxy ships are already paying off,"
Esteban said. "Have you heard?"
"We've been out of touch," Jim said drily.
"Of course. But a subspace transmission just
came 36
The Search For Spock
through it made all the news services.
Magellan is in Andromeda. It just completed the first
close-range observation of a supernova."
"That's very impressive," Jim said. And for all
his offhandedness, he was impressed. Andromeda!
Another galaxy, millions and millions of
light-years away. A different ship, with a
different crew and a different commander, had reached it
first. He made a mental note to tell Mr.
Sulu the news of Magellan, for Sulu and the
galaxy ship's captain, Mandala Flynn, had
been the closest of friends for a long time.
They reached the officer's lounge and went inside.
Carol had not yet arrived.
"Jim?"
"Eh?" Kirk realized J.t. had spoken
to him, but had no idea what he had said. "I'm
sorry, what did you say?"
"I said Magel lan is a bit of a
technological trick. It's too small to do
anything but quick and dirty scouting missions. And if
they encounter hostiles, what can they do but turn tail
and run?"
"No doubt you're right," Jim said. He tried
to imagine something that might cause Mandala Flynn
to turn tail and run. He failed.
"No, it's Excelsior that's the wave of the
future," J.t. said.
The door to the lounge slid open to admit Carol
Marcus, accompanied by David. Carol nodded
to Jim coolly; if she was not still angry at him,
at best she was not yet willing to forget about last
night's conversation.
"Carol," Jim said, "this is J.t.
Esteban, commanding the Grissom. J.t., Dr.
Carol Marcus, and her son . . ." Jim
paused, thinking he really should say, "Our
son," but deciding not to because it would take so long
to explain. "Her son, Dr. David Marcus."
STAR TREK 111
"Two for the price of one," David said.
Jim chuckled and Carol smiled. Missing the
joke, J.t. rubbed his jaw and frowned.
"This is sensitive information," he said. "I
only expected Dr. Marcus, senior." -
David's smile vanished. "I can take a
hint," he said. He headed toward the door, the
irritation in his voice mirrored in his
stiff-shouldered walk.
"David was Jim said, but David kept
walking.
"David, wait," Carol said.
David hesitated, then glanced back.
"David is a full member of the Genesis
team, Captain Esteban," Carol said. "He and
I are the only surviving principal
investigators. Anything you have to say about Genesis,
you must say to him as well as to me."
"The first thing I have to say is I wish you'd
called it something else," Esteban said.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"It's too late now, but it wasn't the wisest
move you could have made, in terms of p.r. Never mind
that, for the moment. Dr. Marcus was He
addressed David this ffme. "I apologise for
my bad manners. Please come sit down with the rest
of us. We have a great deal to talk over."
They sat around one of the small tables next to the
star portals, and Esteban described the
circumstances they would return to on Earth.
"The news of the Genesis effect created . . .
shall we say, a sensation," J.t. said
uncomfortably.
In all the years Jim had known J.t.
Esteban, he had never seen him lose his
composure. Anything and everything, no matter how
strange, no matter the stress, he had always taken
easily, even phlegmatically, in his stride.
Jim had read the reports of some of his missions.
Esteban had come up against extraordinarily
The Search For Spock
challenging events, and he had prevailed. To see
him so agitated about Genesis disturbed Jim more
than anything the younger Starfleet officer could tell
him.
"Of course it did," David said. "That's
sort of the point, isn't it? We've made
possible the elimination of poverty. We've made the
reasons for war completely untenable his
"You've created a device that could destroy the
galaxy. That's what our adversaries perceive, not
universal peace and plenty. They have demanded
multilateral parity his
"You mean they want Genesis, too," Carol
said.
"Precisely."
"Why don't you give it to them?" David said.
"DavidI"...Jim said, shocked. "We didn't
just go through the last few days so we could turn
Genesis over to an enemy power. Your friends didn't
die resisting Khan so you could hand over the discovery
to the next person who demanded it."
"That was different," David said. "Khan wanted
it for revenge. Revenge against you."
Jim scowled, but did not reply to the jab.
"I'm not talking about giving it to every crazy who
comes along," David said. "I'm talking about
making Genesis openly available for transforming
lifeless worlds."
"That is absolutely outside the.realm
of possibility," J.t. said.
"But that's what we made it for!"
"My dear boy," J.t. said.
Jim winced, seeing David bristle.
"My dear boy," J.t. said, "we can't give
it to anyone else. That would be too dangerous."
"The Federation is the only organisation with the
wisdom to decide on its use?" Carol said
dryly.
"I'm glad you understand Starfleet's the
Federa39
STAR TREK 111
tion's position, Dr. Marcus," J.t.
said, missing the irony the same way he always
missed jokes.
"Oh, I understand it, all right," Carol said.
"That doesn't mean that I accept it."
"I knew it!" David shouted. "You just can't
keep your hands off any discovery, can you? You have
to grab it and hoard it and twist it until you can
figure out a way to use it for destruction!"
"David, relax," Jim said.
"We would hardly have to do much figuring, now, would
we?" Esteban said. "The evidence for the
destructive power of Genesis is its first
deployment. It completely recreated the substance
of the Mutara Nebula, a volume of space some
hundred astronomical units in radius. It
destroyed Reliant and all the people on board. It
nearly destroyed the Enterprise, and it did cause
the death of his
"Indirectly," Jim Kirk snapped. "We
were involved in hostilities his
"Because of Genesis!"
"Not entirely," Jim said. David was right
Khan Singh had intended to use Genesis to wreak
revenge upon James Kirk. But he had stumbled
upon the project by chance, then turned it to his
purposes. He had succeeded better than he could
have known.
"You're hardly being fair, Captain," Carol
said. "The Genesis device was obviously never
meant in any form to go off inside a ship. That
particular device was never intended to go off within a
nebula."
"But that's precisely my point, doctor! After
all that's happened, how can you argue that the device
cannot be an instrument of terrorism?"
"But if everybody has it there isn't any need
for terrorism!" David said.
Carol was touched by David's naivete, Jim was
The Search For Spock
surprised by it, and J.t. thought he was being
deliberately, perhaps even maliciously, dense.
"Your discovery may eliminate poverty. But
it'll hardly change the natures of sentient beings.
It won't eliminate greed or lust for power or
simple error, and it most certainly won't
eliminate ideology. The drive to convert people's
minds and hearts has caused more grief, more suffering,
more loss of life than any desire for property,
riches, or even the necessities of
survival.""
"Very eloquent, Captain," David said
sarcastically. "I take it you mean our
ideology requires us to pervert Genesis into a
weapon before anybody else gets a chance to?"
"It's hardly productive to ascribe
malicious motives to everybody who disagrees with
you, David," Jim said sharply.
"What has to be done with Genesis isn't up
to me to say," J.t. said. "Or to any of us."
"You're entitled to your opinion," (carol said.
David jumped to his feet. "I always
said the military'd try to take Genesis away from
us! I suppose if I try to call the Federation
Science Network in on this, you'll throw me in the
brigl"
"Sit down and shut up, David," Jim said.
"If anybody gets thrown in the brig on this
ship, it'll be by me. And you're making it mighty
tempting to send you to bed without your supper."
David glared at him with a sudden flare of
resentment that surprised Jim completely.
"Try it and see how far you get!" David
glared at Kirk, then at Esteban. "I don't
see any point in continuing this discussion." He
stalked away.
"Come back here, David," Jim said.
"Do you think you can make me? You and who else?"
He strode from the lounge.
STAR TREK 111
Jim started to rise.
Carol put one hand on his arm.
"Let him go, Jim. He'll be all right when
he cools down. was She smiled. "That's another
way he's like you. his
"I was never that hotheaded!"
Carol looked at him askance. Jim
reluctantly sat down again.
He realised that J.t. was watching them with both
curiosity and confusion. He deserved at least some
explanation.
"David is my son, as well as Carol's,"
he said.
"Oh," J.t. said. "Er. . . I didn't
realize you had any children."
Neither did I, Jim thought, but what he said out
loud was, "Just the one."
"How did we get off on this track,
anyway?" J.t. said. "What I asked you here
to tell you is that Grissom has been ordered to the
Mutara sector to make a complete survey of the
Genesis world. We can hardly discuss it, with our
allies or with our adversaries, unless we know more
about the effect and its consequences. Dr. Marcus,
I've been directed to transfer you to my ship. his
"What?" Carol said.
"Obviously, we need you to supervise the
observations his
"Forget it," Carol said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"What the hell do you think I am?
"Transfer" me? Like a crate of supplies?
Do you think I'm a robot?"
"I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't follow you
at all."
"Six people died on Spacelab. I was
responsible for them and they were my friends! I owe them.
At the very least I owe them the courtesy of telling
their families what happened!"
"Their families know of the tragedy . . ."
The Search For Spock
"What did you do send telegrams? My
gods!"
"I feel sure things were handled with more . . . more
delicacy than you suspect."
"I don't care," Carol said. "I'm not going
back to Genesis, not now. I won't discuss it
any further."
"But his
"The subject is closed."
She stood abruptly and strode from the lounge,
leaving Jim and J.t. together in awkward silence.
"Well," J.t. said finally, "I didn't
handle either one of them very well, did I? Maybe
if I ask her again a little later ?"
"I wouldn't advise it," Jim said.
Valkris knelt on the floor of her cabin,
meditating. The low gravity of the mercenary's ship
made the discipline very difficult. Remaining in one
position for a great length of time required no strength
of will, where gravity put little stress on the body.
Meditation was one of the few ways she had of passing
the time during the miserable boredom of space
travel when one was merely a passenger, a lone
passenger at that. She had been more accustomed to flying
her own ship, before her family fell upon hard times.
This mission would rebuild her family's fortune
and its honor. She resisted unseemly pride it
was merely her duty to repair the damage done
to all their reputations by the actions of her older
brother. Kiosan had never forgiven their family for
choosing Valkris, rather than him, to lead them.
In his despair and envy he set out to prove how
spectacularly correct the family had been
to overlook him. He reneged on all the vows he
had made when he came of age. He put aside
his veil and showed his face to the world. He addicted
himself to pleasure, and he showed no desire to change.
Valkris offered him the
43
STAR TREK 111
opportunity to return to the family three times,
and even a fourth, though the fourth offer strained her
sense of aesthetics. Not only did he refuse
he dared her to break her own word and join him.
Valkris had disowned her brother with a regret so
intense that to this moment she felt the pain. But
Kiosan's actions had sent their family's
reputation and merit into an inexorable slide that could not
be reversed unless he repented or she released him.
So Valkris had set him free. To all her other
blood kin, he was dead. But he was still very much alive
to Valkris, and when she thought of him, as she often
did, she wished him well in his freedom and envied
him more than a little.
She had made vows, too. Every member of each
of the great families took the vows upon coming of age.
Despite the example of her older brother,
Valkris was unable to break them. Every action she had
taken since accepting her position had been intended
to benefit the family. She had never fled a duel.
She had never even lost a duel, though she bore
scars from wounds that would have proven her honor even had
she yielded to the opponent who inflicted them. Because
of her reputation for ferocious tenacity, she
had not been challenged in some years. Valkris did
not fight for an afternoon's entertainment. She had buried
more opponents than she had permitted to be helped from
the field.
It was good that the family would recover from
Kiosan's foolishness. It was better that it was
Valkris who designed the recovery, and who would
carry it out.
She extended both her hands and clenched her fingers
into fists, feeling the tension and the strength in her long,
strong muscles. She rose smoothly to her feet
and made a hand signal before the sensor of the intercom.
The Search For Spock
"Yes?" the captain of the mercenary vessel said
after a moment.
"The gravity in my cabin is very weak. I
require it to be increased."
"There's a matter of the extra fuel to run the
grav generators."
"You will not lose by acceding to my requests,
captain," Valkris said. She was tired enough of his
pettiness to consider making him a challenge. She
resisted the unworthy impulse. She could gain no
honor by vanquishing such a creature. He
had no style.
"Very well," the captain said disagreeably.
A short time later the gravity in Valkris'
cabin began to increase. She knelt again and composed
herself for meditation. When the force increased well beyond that
of her home world, she simply smiled and set herself
to find the discipline she had been seeking.
Saavik did her work automatically. She had
practiced on the bridge of the Enterprise so often
that the responses came without her conscious thought.
Any change, any anomaly, would call itself to her
attention instantly. For the moment everything was normal
as normal as it could be for a half-crippled ship so
Saavik could think of other things.
She thought about David, she thought about Mr.
Spock, and she thought about the strangeness of her
life. Mr. Spock had helped her transform
herself from a starving, abandoned, illiterate child-thief
into a polished, controlled, and well-educated
Starfleet officer. Under most circumstances she was
the very model of Vulcan propriety. That had been
her goal, until her last conversation with Spock.
"You must find your own path," he had said. The
wisdom of his words impressed her. He had told
her she might find herself considering
STAR TREK 111
possibilities that she knew he would not
approve. She should not, he said, dismiss them on that
criterion alone. Instead, she should remain open
to them.
The path she had chosen last night led into the
unexplored regions of her Romulan heritage.
Spock would most certainly not have encouraged such a
journey. For that reason Saavik found even more
cause to admire his insight into her character and his own.
Saavik thought about her life, she thought about Mr.
Spock, and she thought about her thoughts kept coming back
to David.
"Lieutenant Saavik."
"Yes, Admiral." Saavik turned to face
Admiral Kirk, who had just stepped onto the
bridge with an unfamiliar officer Captain
Esteban of the Grissom, by his uniform and
insignia.
"J.t.," Kirk said, "this is Lieutenant
Saavik. Lieutenant, Captain Esteban is
on a survey trip to Genesis. He needs someone
along who has a scientific background, and who
witnessed the creation of the world. Dr. Marcus
has declined to go. Would you care to volunteer?"
"Aye, Admiral," she said. She thought of
David. The words tasted bitter. She turned
back to her console.
Chris Chapel paused at McCoy's bedside
and felt his forehead again. His fever had receded, and
she had heard him move restlessly as if he were about
to wake up.
"Chris?"
"Yes, Leonard." She tried to keep the ragged
wariness from her voice, but the pain still showed. Whatever
his excuse for saying a very Vulcan thing to her in a
creditable imitation of Spock's voice, it had still
hurt her badly.
The Search For Spock
"What's going on? What happened?"
"What do you mean, Leonard? Since you spoke
to me last? Since last night? Since we left
Spacedock? What's the matter with you?"
"I . . . I don't know. Everything seems so
strange."
She felt concerned enough about him to turn on the
medical sensors above his bed. She had held off
doing so earlier because she knew what he would
say if he awoke to find them quietly talking
to themselves over his head.
"What're you doing? I'm not sick. I don't
need those damned blinkenlightzen interrupting my
sleep."
Chris managed to laugh. "That's more like it," she
said. She watched the sensors through a couple of
cycles. Nothing seemed amiss.
Leonard's temperature had dropped
to normal. His body chemistry showed no evidence
of the metabolic breakdown products of alcohol.
But if he had not been drunk last night . . .
what had affected him? She turned off the sensors.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Eight hundred hours."
"Good lord."
Without comment, Chris let him sit up. If he
was well enough to help, all the better.
"Leonard," she said.
"Hm?"
"Why did you say that to me?"
"What?"
"A little while ago you woke up, and you said,
"Vulcans do not love." his
"My gods, Chris," he said, shocked.
"Did I? I'm sorry. All night I've
been having those horrible dreams where you can't tell
if they're real or not. I can't even remember
anything about them except how frightening and how real they
were. I guess I must have been dreaming . . . about
Spock."
STAR TREK 111
"I see," she said.
"I never would have said such a thing if I'd known
what I was saying. Will you accept my apology?"
"Yes," she said. Wanting to forget about it as
soon as possible, she changed the subject. "Are
you well enough to go on duty? Someone has to accompany
Carol Marcus to Spacelab. I think it should be
one of
us. his
"Good gods Jim isn't going to let anybody
go down there to was
He jumped out of bed. Chris caught him when he
staggered and nearly fell.
"I'm all right just stood up too fast."
"Uh-huh." She helped him sit on the edge
of the bed. "You're in no condition to leave the shim
especially since l don't know what's
wrong with you."
"But his
"Don't be an ass, Leonard. You can stay here
and rest under your own authority, or you can stay under
Admiral Kirk's orders. Your choice."
"I forbid you was He stopped. "Sorry.
Chris, I've already been down there I've seen .
. . what happened to Carol Marcus's friends.
Letting her see it would be cruel."
"I saw the records you made surely you
didn't think I'd take Carol into that was The
violence of the murders flashed unbidden into her mind.
"Grissom's medical officer has already taken a
team into the space station," Chris said. "The . . .
casualties . . . are in stasis. The sites are
in order." The technical words made the
descriptions easier to say.
"Chris, if you're sure his
"What I said before still holds. You're staying here,
under any circumstances."
McCoy stopped trying to hide his exhaustion.
He sagged back on his bunk.
The Search For Spock
"I'm just overtired," he said. "Don't
trouble Jim with this."
"That's up to you."
"I'll stay in sick bay."
Chris nodded, relieved at his acquiescence.
The codes and the documentation for Genesis had to be
retrieved from Regulus I; the bodies of Khan
Singh's victims had to be formally identified and
transferred to the Enterprise. Carol walked toward
the transporter room, dreading the task that faced
her. David, beside her, suddenly touched her elbow and
drew her to a halt.
"What's the matter, David?"
"There's no reason for you to go down there. I can .
. . take care of everything."
"I hardly need to be protected by my own
son," Carol said. "This is my
responsibility."
"Mother his
"David, we both lost friends in this disaster,"
Carol said. One of the ways she could hold off her
grief was by reminding herself continually that she was not
alone.
was I know that Vance was more than just a friend to you."
"I know you know it. Did you think we thought we were
secret lovers?" She herself had thought it must
be obvious to everyone, because she had felt as if she were
walking around in a perpetual glow, a bit like the
way David and Saavik looked this morning. Right
after she and Vance had become lovers, David said
offhand to her that he did not understand why the two of them
spent so much time together. "Del's a lot more interest-
ing," David had said. "dance is okay, but he's
kind of, well, boring, I think." And Carol,
amused that David had not caught on, replied,
"Then you don't know Vance very well." Vance was
quieter than his partner,
STAR TREK Ill
more reserved, and steadier. Del possessed a
fragile ego and a quick temper, and Carol, for all
that she acknowledged his brilliance, thought he was a little
crazy. Vance, though . . . Vance was the sanest
person she had ever known. Del might be interesting
to be around as in the old Chinese curse, "May you
live in interesting times."
Being with Vance was simply and purely fun.
David had seemed to catch on, eventually, though
now was the first time they had directly discussed it.
Far from being jealous, as certain psychological
theories would have made him, he had
subsequently become much better friends with Vance, which
had pleased Carol
tremendously.
"I just thought," David said, "if you didn't have
to see him . . ."
Carol took his hand and held it between hers.
"David, losing Vance is the most painful thing
I've ever experienced. I still don't believe
he's gone. Because of our work, I have to go down
to Spacelab. But even if I didn't, I'd have
to go anyway. Do you understand?"
"I don't think so," he said.
"If I don't . . . If I don't see
him, I'll never be able to believe he's dead. I
have to accept it."
David hugged her suddenly.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so
damned sorry. When you and he were together, you looked
happier than I ever saw you before. It just isn't
fair to was His voice broke, and he did not try
to say more.
Carol hugged him, then drew back and
scrubbed her sleeve across her eyes.
"We'd better go," she said.
50
Chapter 3
Carol Marcus and Christine Chapel
materialised within the stasis room of Spacelab.
The blue glow of the stasis fields leaked eerily from
the edges of five of the chambers. Carol hesitated
a moment, then opened the first one. She looked down
at the shrouded figure, then drew the cloth from the
pale face of a very young man, who had died with an
expression of terror.
"This is Jan." She said his full name and his
I'd. number for the identification record that Chris
was making. "He was our steward. He
hadn't tilde been on Spacelab for long. A
freighter stopped by a few months ago, and when it
left he stayed behind. He said he was working his way
across the galaxy. He wanted to see everything there is
to see. "I know that's impossible," he told
me, "but it's too good a line to pass up." He
wrote poetry, but he would never let anyone read
it."
She covered his pale face again, closed his
chamber, and opened the second one, which protected an
older man
STAR TREK 111
with flecks of grey in his black hair. After
identifying him for the record, Carol said, "Yoshi,
our cook, shouldn't have been here at all. He was
due for leave, with the rest of Spacelab's staff.
But when he found out a few of us were staying, he said
he would, too, because otherwise we would all forget
to eat and make ourselves sick with malnutrition. I
think, though, that he stayed because he was as fascinated
by Genesis as the rest of us. He didn't want
to miss the second phase of the experiment."
Carol glanced at Chris. "Is the machine
getting this? I want you to get it all."
Chris nodded. Carol was well aware that nothing was
needed beyond a formal
identification, but Chris recognized the
private eulogies to be a facet of Carol's
grief. "Yes," she said. "I'm getting it."
The third chamber held a fair, handsome young man
who looked completely at peace.
"Delwin March," Carol said. "He and Vance
Madison were partners. They practically invented a
whole field of physics. They called it
'kindergarten physics" because it dealt with
subelementary particles. They used to go to conferences
and drive their older colleagues to distraction
by refusing to take anything seriously. As far as we
know yet, the two particles they discovered are the
basis of the whole
universe and they named them "sparks" and
"boojums," out of a Lewis Carroll poem.
I didn't get along very well with Del March.
There was a streak of fury and pain in him that frightened
me. I didn't understand it. I couldn't do anything
about it and I couldn't do anything to help him. The
only person who could reach him when he began to sink
into that anger was his partner, and all Vance could do was
keep him from hurting himself too badly." She
brushed a lock of light brown hair from March's
forehead and covered his face with his shroud. 52
The Search For Spock
The fourth chamber held the body of a Deltan
woman. Her face was stately and elegant and
extraordinarily beautiful. "Zinaida
Chitirih-Ra-Payjh was one of the finest
mathematicians in the Federation. We couldn't have
gotten past stage one of Genesis without her."
Carol smiled sadly. "All the boys, Jan and
David and Del poor Del, particularly and some
of the young women on the station fell
desperately in love with her, of course.
Almost every human here fell in love with her or her
partner or with both of them." She glanced at the
recorder. "Jedda Adzhin-Dall isn't here.
He died by phaser, down inside Regulus I."
She sighed. "Deltans have a powerful effect on
humans. Zinaida and Jedda handled it
beautifully. They were polite and cool and amused.
They knew, I think, that nothing will douse a crush
quicker than amusement. Everybody wondered what they
did in their cabin together. I doubt anybody ever
got up the nerve to ask. I think they laughed not
cruelly, but just because human beings must have seemed so
silly and immature to them." She put the palm of
her hand along the side of Zinaida's face.
"Dear Zinaida..." Carol glanced at Chris.
"Leonard said he could not find a cause of death,"
she said matterof-factly.
Chris hesitated, disturbed by Carol's eerie
calm. But refusing to answer would be close to Iying.
"Deltans can will themselves to die," she said. "If
they find themselves in intolerable conditions. I think she
wouldn't have felt any pain."
"She wouldn't have been frightened of pain," Carol
said. "She would have seen it as a
challenge maybe even as an
opportunity to experience something she hadn't chosen
to encounter before." She replaced the shroud carefully.
She opened the last chamber.
"This is Vance Madison." Her hands shaking,
she uncovered his face. It was strong, intelligent,
deter
STAR TREK 111
mined. The light glinted like jewels in his very
curly black hair. "I used to tease Del and
him by calling them "twins," because they were so
completely different. Fair and dark, white and
black, short and tall, quicktempered and serene . .
. crazy and sane." Her calm voice suddenly
broke. "Oh, damn, Chris, now I have
to believe he's dead . . ."
Chris Chapel turned off the recorder, went
to Carol, and put her arms around her while she
cried. "I know," Chris said. "I understand."
After Carol and Chris beamed down to
Spacelab, Saavik and David stepped up
on the transporter platform to beam into Regulus
I's new ecosystem.
"Energize," Saavik said.
"Lieutenant," the cadet said
hesitantly, "I can't find a clear place
to beam you to."
"What?" David said. "It's full of open
spaces in there."
Saavik joined the cadet at the console and
inspected the readings.
"It is true, David. The surface in
range of the beam is covered with some amorphous
material. Even the tunnels are filled." The
readings were completely different from what she had
expected. She scanned further until she found a
relatively empty spot. "Beam me here,
cadet," she said. "I will report what I find."
"Saavik, wait a minute was David said.
She returned to the platform. "I will either return
immediately or send for you. Energize."
The cadet obeyed.
Saavik experienced the brief disorientation of
dematerialization. She arrived on Regulus I,
beneath the planetoid's surface and within one of the
tunnels dug as a staging area for the second phase
of the 54
The Search For Spock
Genesis project. She held her
communicator open and her phaser ready, should
the changes
threaten her.
She found herself in a very small clearing left by the
random arrangement of a tangled mass of undergrowth.
Vines completely filled the tunnel in which Dr.
Marcus and her team had hidden the Genesis
records.
"Saavik to Erzterprise. I have reached the
surface. David, the flora has grown into the
tunnels and filled them. Is this what you intended?"
"No. Not at all but like I told you, things always
happen that you don't expect. I'm coming down."
"Wait a moment. I will clear a place for you."
First she tried to push aside the beautiful flowering
tendrils, but they sprang back into place. In
trying to move them, she crushed some of the stems and
blossoms. The damaged foliage released a
pungent and entrancing scent.
Saavik set her phaser to very-short-range
disintegrate. She had checked the phaser out
precisely because David had told her that the
Genesis experiment was so complex that its outcome could
not be predicted in every detail. She had not, however,
expected to be attacked by the vegetation.
The scarlet-edged green leaves withered and
vanished before the b eam of her phaser. The sweet,
spicy fragrance intensified. She opened her
communicator.
"Saavik to Enterprise. Cadet, can you lock
onto the cleared area?"
"Aye, Lieutenant."
David materialised beside her. He looked around
and whistled in surprise.
"I take that to mean you did not expect anything like
this," Saavik said.
"It's even more viable than we thought! My gods,
look at the growth, even under artificial light!"
STAR TREK 111
Saavik forbore to puncture his enthusiasm
by pointing out that the ball of glowing plasma deeper
inside the planetoid gave light no more
"natural" than did the overhead fixtures
illuminating the tunnels. The mass of reacting
gases was held to the proper density by magnetic
fields and kept in place by stress fields. It
and the surrounding shell of the planetoid existed in an
essentially unstable relationship.
"I would call this "overgrowth," David. And
we still must reach the Genesis records. We
do not have much time."
"Hey, I designed these vines at least give
me a chance to admire my own handiwork for a minute, will
you?"
"Admire the ones behind us. I must destroy some
of the ones in our path. Please do not take it
personally." Before she fired her phaser she added,
"They are very beautiful. And the scent is aesthetically
pleasing."
"Thanks. his
Through the intertwining foliage, Saavik could just
see the great pile of portable memory banks that
held the Genesis research. As she cut a path in
that direction, David plucked a spray of leaves
from a vine, crushed them, and inhaled the scent.
"They'll grow berries in a couple of months.
Ought to make great wine."
Saavik reached the cache of Genesis records.
She focused her phaser to a tight beam, powered it
down to its minimum level, and used it like a
scalpel to remove the undergrowth from the boxes. As
she finished, David approached. He put his arms
around her from behind and rubbed the leaves together between his hands.
The refreshing perfume rose up around her face.
"Wouldn't you like to try some wine that tasted like
these smell?"
The Search For Spock
Saavik holstered her phaser and took
David's hands between her own. She stroked the backs
of his hands with her fingers and grasped his wrists,
feeling the cool throb of his pulse.
"The scent requires nothing more," she said. "It
is complete in itself. It is perfect, very much like its
designer."
He let the leaves fall to the ground and hugged her
more tightly, burying his face in her hair. She
wanted nothing more than to respond to his caress.
Her communicator beeped.
"I'd never design a bird that made a silly
noise like that," David whispered in Saavik's
ear. "Must have been my mother, she was never very good at
music. Let's ignore it."
"It would merely make more silly noises," she
said. "And when it stopped, a whole flock of its
comrades would come looking for it,
accompanied by a whole flock of cadets playing
at being security officers." She kissed him quickly
and pulled out her communicator. Chuckling, David
brushed the last remnants of his vines from the
storage boxes.
"Saavik here."
"How long will you be, Lieutenant?" Admiral
Kirk said. "Captain Esteban wants to leave
for the Mutara sector as soon as possible."
"A few more minutes, Admiral," Saavik
said. "We have located the Genesis records and are
preparing to beam them up."
"Very well. Shake a leg. Kirk out."
With a curious frown, Saavik closed the
communicator. ""Shake a leg"?" she said
to David. "How would that be of benefit? Is it an
exercise?"
"It's an idiom, it means hurry up. Why
did he tell you Esteban's plans?"
"Because he has ordered was She stopped, and then,
STAR TREK 111
to be fair, she said, "Or, rather, he strongly
invited me to volunteer to accompany Grissom to
Genesis. Such invitations are not wisely
declined."
"What? Damn! So he's trying to cut me and
mother out of the follow-up! Saavik, do you know what this
means?"
"It means he is under the impression that you do not
care to go he said you had declined."
"The hell I did!"
"But he said tilde have. Perhaps he meant Dr.
Marcus, senior."
"He didn't even ask me! Son of a bitch!"
"Surely if you tell him you wish to go his
"He'll probably think of some way to stop me.
He'll try, anyway. Especially now that you're
going."
David made Saavik acutely uncomfortable
when he referred to the admiral in such an angry,
abusive tone.
"Why do you speak of him like this, David? I was
under the impression that you and he had found reason
to accept each other."
"So was I. For a while. But maybe I was
wrong. Maybe we're too different." He blew
his breath out in exasperation, then suddenly grinned.
"I have an idea. Let's let him wait.
Let's blast a trail to the interior and see
what's going on there."
Saavik put her hand on her phaser and very
nearly drew it. She was so tempted by his invitation
that the strength of her desire shocked her.
"I would like that very much," she said.
"Great. Let's go."
"What I would like is very far from what I must do."
"Oh, come on a few minutes won't hurt."
"It would take hours to clear a trail through the
tunnels."
He snatched playfully at her phaser. She
avoided him easily, and not at all playfully.
The Search For Spock
"Spoilsport," he said. "I thought you were
different, but you're just like everybody else in
Starfleet."
"I am like no one else at all, in Starfleet
or outside it," she said.
"Indoctrinated in the military mind."
"You are provoking me, David."
As she pulled out her communicator, David
grabbed again for her phaser, this time with more determination.
Reacting automatically, she grasped his hand in a
move Captain Sulu had taught her in a
self-defence class. The phaser went flying.
"Let got Geez, what are you doing?"
"The technical term is "kotegaeshi,""
Saavik said.
"I don't give a shit what it's called
tilde ill you let go!"
He dug the nails of his free hand into her fingers
to try to make her release him. She put enough twist
OD his wrist to hurt if he resisted.
"Okay, okay!" he said.
Before she could put the communicator away and
retrieve her phaser, the Enterprise signalled
again.
"Enterprise to Saavik," Admiral Kirk
said. There was a definite edge to his voice. "Will
you get a move on, Lieutenant?"
"Immediately, Admiral," she said. "The Genesis
records are cleared of foliage. The
transporter beam may now lock onto them."
"Preparing to beam up," the cadet in the
transporter room said through the communicator.
"Think you can cut me out of my own project, do
you, you filthy warmonger?" David shouted before
Saavik could close the channel.
"David? What are you talking about?" Kirk's
tone was hurt and surprised.
"I'll tell you what I'm talking about his
Saavik snapped the communicator closed and
slapped it back in place on her belt.
STAR TREK 151
"What is wrong with you?" Saavik had begun
to get used to David's impulsive actions.
Until now he had never seemed maliciously
irresponsible.
The transporter beam glowed; the boxes of
Genesis records sparkled and disappeared.
Saavik dragged David around till she could
reach her phaser. It had fallen into a tangle of
vines. She had to rip it loose from the tendrils that
had curled around it. The pungent scent rose up
to enclose her.
She felt dizzy. She shoved the phaser against
her belt and fumbled for the communicator.
"Saavik to Enterprtse; Beam us up."
"One moment, please, Lieutenant. We have
to clear the platforms."
"Quickly!" She slipped to her knees. The stone
floor of the tunnel felt very hard and cold. Tiny
tendrils of David's beautiful vines dug into the
solid rock. Saavik struggled to her feet. Her
grip on David's hand loosened and he came
toward her, reaching again for her phaser.
The transporter beam enveloped and
dematerialized them.
Jim Kirk stormed into the transporter room just
as Lieutenant Saavik and David appeared on
the platform among the piles of boxes that the cadet
had shoved untidily aside.
David and Saavik were holding hands.
Charming, I'm sure, Kirk thought, but hardly the
place or time and damned foolish to do while being
transported. Lucky neither had lost an arm.
"I take it you have something to say to me, young man,"
Kirk said to David.
The young scientist pulled his hand free of
Saavik's and strode forward to meet his father.
"You bet I do."
The Search For Spock
Behind them, Saavik took one step forward and
felt her knees begin to buckle. Before she could
fall, she sat down quickly on the edge of the
platform. David and the admiral argued, David
resentfully, the admiral indignantly, neither
listening to the other. Saavik stopped listening to both of
them.
"Saavik, are you okay?" The cadet crouched
beside her, concerned.
"Yes . . . of course." She had to draw on
all her Vulcan training to find enough strength to rise.
She had not had much sleep in the past several days,
but she should be able to function
effectively for much longer without rest. She had
done so before, in practice. She felt ashamed and
embarrassed.
"Admiral," she said. Neither he nor David
heard her. "Admiral Kirk!" she said more
loudly, breaking into the argument.
Kirk swung around to face her. "What is it,
Lieutenant?"
"May I be dismissed? I must prepare
to transfer to the Gr tilde ssom."
"All right, yes. Dismissed."
Saavik sat in her cabin, grateful for its
dry warmth and the dim, scarlet-tinged light. Her
preparations remained incomplete, but she needed a
moment to collect herself and to think about her own and
David's inexplicable behavior.
Absently she drew her phaser and plucked
away the delicate pink tendrils. Many climbing
plants have the ability to coil themselves around whatever
solid object they contact. This species moved
quickly, but she had seen others that were faster.
Its ability to probe into solid rock was
exceptional if she had seen what she thought she
saw. She wished for time to explore
STAR TREK 111
Regulus I. She was, she thought, nearly as
anxious as David to know the full results of the
Genesis programs.
Saavik lifted a crushed vine-leaf to her nose
to experience again the dazzling scent. The fragrance
twined around her like the tendrils around her phaser.
Dizziness hit her. Saavik jerked the leaf
away. She gazed at it, frowning. She put it
aside, went to the synthesiser panel, and requested
the ship's computer to send her a sampling envelope.
When it appeared, she swept together all the bits of
David's vine. Repressing the wish to inhale their
redolent essence, she sealed them within the clear
plastic.
Jim Kirk folded his arms across his chest.
"David, I don't understand what you're so angry
about. Carol said she didn't want to go back to the
Mutara sector naturally I assumed you didn't
want to go, either."
"You should have asked me,?"' David said
stubbornly. He felt tremendously relieved that
his mother was not willing to return yet, and terrified and
angry that he might be forbidden to do so. "I'll
tell you why you expect me to do exactly what she
does it's because everybody you know has jumped when you
said 'frog" for so long that you don't think anybody
has a mind of their own!"
Jim chuckled. "You don't know the people I know,
if you think that. Look, I've apologised I
don't see that there's much else I can do, if you're
determined to sulk."
"You can send me out on Grissom."
Jim hesitated. "Are you sure that's wise?"
"Why isn't it wise?"
"I just thought . . ."
David glared at him belligerently. Jim
took a moment to sort through his own feelings.
The Search For Spock
"I'll be honest with you, David. I was hoping
you'd stay on board the Enterprise. I've wanted
a chance to talk to you. I can't make up for all the
years that I didn't know you his
"No," David said coldly. "You can't."
Taken aback by David's reaction,
Jim said, "Whether you like it or not, I am your
father."
"You can't spend twenty years ignoring my
existence his
"David, I didn't his
was and just waltz in and expect me to shower you with
filial piety!"
"All I want is for us to try to be friends."
"It's too late! It's too damned late for
you to come along and try to make friends with me!"
They were getting nowhere; they were
succeeding only in antagonising each other. Jim
decided to try to defuse the argument until they both
could cool down.
"I hope you're wrong, David," he said.
"But I think I understand why you're angry and
disappointed. I hope someday you can forgive me,
or even accept me. In the meantime let's try at
least to be civil to each other. For your mother's
sake."
"For my mother's sake! Since when did you give
a damn about my mother?"
"You aren't going to let up, are you?" Jim was
both angry and hurt. Every concession he had tried
to make, David had thrown back in his
face. "Get your things together tilde rissom warps
out of orbit in an hour."
He stalked out of the room.
David knocked softly on the door of his mother's
cabin. He waited, then knocked again. The door
finally slid open. Darkness faced him.
"Mother?"
STAR TREK 111
"Yes, David." Her voice was very quiet.
"Your things that were down inside the cave I brought
them back up with me."
"Thank you." She turned on a light.
"They told me you didn't want to go back to the
Mutarasector."
"No," she said. "Not now. I can't, not now."
"I volunteered to. I think it's important
that one of us be in the reconnaissance party."
She looked at him in silence.
"I understand why you want to go back to Earth,"
David said. "I should, too, probably."
"I'd hoped . . ." she said softly.
"Mother, this is essential. Somebody's got
to keep an eye on Starfleet. To be sure they
tell the truth about what happened out there.
We can't just let them have free rein, not after everything
that's happened."
"I know," she said. "You're right that one of us should
go. Probably both of us should."
"No!" he said quickly, then forced his voice back
under control when she reacted to his intensity. "It
isn't going to be anything but a fast survey.
Somebody's got to keep them honest, but it won't
take both of us. Mother, I'm leaving you to do the hard
job all alone his
"I have to do it alone," she said. "It's only that
I've been afraid . . ."
"Of what?"
"There's a reason I never told you Jim
Kirk is your father, David. There are a lot of
reasons, but the main one was selfish."
"I don't understand."
"I was afraid that if you found out that your father was a
starship captain, you'd be off on the next ship,
flying around the galaxy, and I'd never see you again."
She sighed. "I told Jim I want you in my
world, not in his. But I should have let you make the
decision."
The Search For Spock
"What decision?" He laughed. "Mother, can you
really see me on the crew of this ship?" He jerked
to attention. "Yessing Aye-aye sir. I'll be
glad to swab the poop deck, sir." Slowly and
deliberately, he crossed his eyes.
Carol could not help but laugh. "I don't think
starships have poop decks, David."
"They'd probably invent one just for me to swab.
I'd never make it in the military."
"Only . . ."
"What?"
"You've met your father, and you're about to go off on a
starship."
"Yeah, but note carefully that it isn't his
starship. Honest, Mom, I'm not going to up and join
Starfleet." He hugged her. "I won't even be
gone very long. Promise."
"I know."
"They're leaving soon. I better go."
"Good-bye, David. Be careful."
"I almost forgot was He reached under his shirt and
drew out a folded piece of drafting fabric.
"Our Starfleet friends sealed the Genesis
records, but I insisted on checking them over before
they locked them away. I didn't know if
they'd let either of us in there again. Who knows who
they'll turn everything over to, back on Earth.
S. . ." The shiny, silvery material slipped out
of its folds and lay soft and unwrinkled in his hands.
Dark blue lines and stippling marked it. "I stole
this for you when nobody was looking." He handed her the
map of the second phase of Genesis.
After drawing the map of the ecosystem for Regulus
I, Vance Madison had made a copy for each
member of the team. They had all
contributed to the plan, and they had all been
looking forward to comparing the map
STAR TREK 111
with the eventual outcome. The vines in the stagmg
area hinted at greatly divergent results.
David wondered if he if anyone would ever get the
chance to explore Regulus I's interior.
Carol took the map from him and smoothed it out across
her lap.
"David . . . thank you." She touched the outer
reaches of the map, near the north pole. Inside the
shell of the world, centrifugal acceleration created an
artificial gravity. But as one curved around toward
the poles, the force would become more acutely
angled to the surface. The radius of spin would
shorten. Thus one would seem to be climbing up an
increasingly steeper hill, against a steadily
decreasing force.
The team had left the odd environment of the poles
almost uncolonised by their creations, for they had
primarily been interested in inventing life forms that
would be useful on a new world. Carol was rather pleased
with her silk heather, and Yoshi had suggested the
cornucopia tree, which produced several different
kinds of fruit at each season. Vance had invented
a small
carnivore that he fancifully named the white
rabbit, and Del responded by designing the March
hare. Its main distinction, he claimed, was complete
lunacy. The way he described it, it sounded like a
cross between a howler monkey and a gecko. Carol
smiled, thinking that it was characteristic of the two young men
to design a "rabbit" that was not a rabbit, and a
"hare" that was not a hare. When they presented their
creations at the weekly design meeting,
Carol had laughed and threatened to make up something they
could call the mad hatter.
None of those creations lived out toward the poles.
At the very top of the map, in spidery
script, Vance had written "Here be dragons."
The Search For Spock
"I wonder if there really are dragons,"
Carol said softly.
Saavik arrived In the transporter room,
ready to beam on board Gnssom, but found herself all
alone. As she was punctual, she felt it safe
to assume the others had not left without her.
Waiting in the empty, dim transporter room,
she sought something to occupy her mind.
Someone spoke her name.
"Captain ?" She turned around, looking for the
speaker.
No one else had yet entered the room. The
deep Shadows offered no hiding places.
"Who is there?" she said.
It occurred to her that someone might be trying to play
a joke on her, though no one had ever done so before.
No one had ever even told jokes to her. Until
a few days ago she had considered them completely
frivolous, and thus beneath notice. Jokes could be
based in cruelty, she knew, but it was usually a
sort.of benign cruelty.
Cruel it would be, and not the least bit
benign, to play a joke on Saavik by calling out
her name, in Mr. Spock's voice.
"Sauvika tilde his
She clapped her hands over her ears. The voice
spoke in Vulcan, using a Vulcan form of
address.
"Sauvikam, why did you leave me on
Genesis?"
The voice was audible only to her.
It was not a joke.
"Mr. Spock," she whispered, "why are you not
at peace? I watched over you, and I sent your
body into the new world. I thought that would please you . .
."
She heard voices in the corridor. Bringi ng
herself
STAR TREK 111
back to some semblance of composure, she pulled
her hands from her face and straightened her tunic.
Admiral Kirk and Captain Esteban entered.
"Hello, Lieutenant," the Admiral said.
"I see you're on time. Think how much we could get
done, J.t., if we were as organised and
imperturbable as Lieutenant
Saavik."
Nothing Kirk had said to Saavik required a
reply, so she remained silent. She felt neither
organized nor imperturbable.
This time she did feel as if she were going mad.
Saavik had experienced mind-meld several times
during her life, most often with Spock. The touch of
his mind was the first civilised experience she had ever
had. The touch of a mind was unique. It was
impossible to mistake the mind of a person one had
touched for that of any other sentient being, strange or
familiar. Yet the voice Saavik had felt, the
consciousness that had just cried out to her, had felt like
Mr. Spock's. Which it could not have been.
"You're very quiet, Lieutenant. Are you having
second thoughts about this mission? You did volunteer,
you know you can change your mind."
"No!" she said more forcefully than she had in-
tended.
He gave her a quizzical look, not
precisely a remonstration, but not approval either.
"No, sir," she said in a more collected tone.
"I believe it is extremely important for me
to go on this mission."
"Very well. Where the devil is
David?"
"He'd better hurry along if he's coming,"
Esteban said. "I can't wait all day.,"
"Is David coming, Admiral?" Saavik
asked.
"He better be," Kirk said. "He read me
the riot act about not asking him in the first place."
The Search For Spock
At that moment David strode in, a small
pack slung over his shoulder.
"We were just about to give up on you," Kirk said.
"I was saying good-bye to my mother," David said.
"Any objections?"
"None at all," Kirk said mildly.
Kirk shook hands with Captain Esteban.
"Good to see you again, J.t. Let's not leave it
so long before we cross paths again."
"We'll be back in a month or six weeks,
Jim."
"We'll plan to get together then." Kirk turned
to Saavik and, to her surprise, extended his hand
to her. She shook it gingerly.
"Good luck, Lieutenant. Take care of my
son."
"Aye, sir," she said, and wondered how many
layers a human being, accustomed to the
ambiguities and "little jokes" of Standard, would
find in his order.
"David."
Kirk reached out to his son. When David
warily grasped his hand, Kirk drew the young man
toward him and into a bear hug.
"Take care of yourself, son," he said.
David extricated himself rather less gracefully
than he might. David's mercurial character,
Saavik thought, was not ready to forgive what had
passed between him and the admiral.
"Don't worry," David said. "There's nothing
dangerous in the Mutara sector anymore. Nothing
dangerous at all."
Kirk watched the young people Esteban,
David, and Saavik vanish from the transporter
platform. Off into the unknown. He did wish he were
going with them.
Instead, he called the bridge and asked
Captain Sulu
STAR TREK 111
to warp out of orbit and head back toward
Earth. Then Kirk himself headed for sick bay.
McCoy was up and working. His facade was
excellent, but Kirk could tell it was only a
facade. To Kirk, McCoy appeared pale and
fragile and distracted, despite the gentle joke
he made with an injured young cadet, despite the
steadiness of his hands and the certainty of his voice.
"Good morning, Bones," Kirk said. "Talk
to you in your office?"
"Hi, Jim. Sure. One minute."
McCoy joined him in the office as soon as he
had finished with his patient.
"What's up? Need a good hangover remedy?"
"I might ask you the same question."
McCoy gave up his jocular pose. "But I
wasn't was He stopped. "Never mind. It
doesn't matter. I owe you an apology
anyway. Scatty wanted to have a wake for his
nephew, and I thought, Why not include Spock?
All I can say is it seemed like a good idea at
the time."
"It's over and done," Jim said. "If I'd
thought about it I probably would have put my foot
down before the whole thing got up any momentum. My
only excuse is I had other things on
my mind. But I'm worried about you. Last night,
you were acting . . . odd."
"Odd?" McCoy chuckled. "I'm not
surprised. The synthesisers aren't quite up to decent
liquor."
Kirk frowned, detecting a false note in
McCoy's dismissal of last night's events.
"I don't mean drunk. You didn't act
drunk."
"I didn't?" McCoy exclaimed, all too
heartily. "I must be out of practice."
"Don't you remember what you said?"
"About what?"
"You stood up on a table and said 'Grief is not
The Search For Spock
logical" in a pretty damned good imitation of
Spock's voice. That isn't your usual sort of
. . . humor."
"That isn't humor of any sort," McCoy
said. "I must have been farther gone than I thought."
"Tell me what's wrong," Jim said.
"Bones, let me help."
"Sure you can help by accepting my apology and
forgetting what it is I'm apologising
for."
When McCoy wanted to avoid interrogation, he
could sidestep with the best of them. Jim had not quite reached
the point of trying to get an answer out of his old friend
by pulling rank. Besides, when had it ever done him any
good, with
McCoy, to assert his authority as a starship
captain?
"Apology accepted. Forgetting that's going
to take a little longer. If you want to talk, you know
where to find me."
Kirk returned to the bridge, still disturbed about
McCoy, and feeling that his visit to sick bay had
been very nearly futile.
On board Grissom, Saavik thanked the
duty officer for giving her a cabin assignment. The
young Vulcan did not bother to stop by her room. She
had nothing with her to drop off, and a more pressing matter
to attend to than
observing the decor of Grissom's cabins.
She felt the faint shift in the ship's gravity
fields that indicated they had warped out of orbit.
Grissom, a small, fast ship, could travel between
Regulus and the Mutara sector much more
quickly than the crippled Enterprise.
Saavik entered the main laboratory and stopped
short.
Before her stood a being like a column of rippled
crystal. Saavik had never met a Glaeziver
before. They 71
STAR TREK 111
were very rare. They intended and planned to be extinct
within a hundred Standard years. Their planet had
been destroyed in the nova of its star. They
possessed such strong ties to their world that they never
found another on which they felt anything but alien. And
so they disbanded, scattering throughout the Federation and perhaps
even beyond.
It occurred to Saavik that if Genesis could be
programmed to copy their lost world closely enough,
they might change their collective decision to die.
If they possessed a world to return to, they might
choose to live.
"Hello," Saavik said formally. "How may I
address you?"
The utter motionlessness of the being gave Saavik the
impression of enormous potential energy preparing
to translate itself into motion. When the Glaeziver
stirred, it did so with a controlled power that belied the
delicacy of its form. The many transparent
strands making up its substance brushed together with a chiming
like jewels in the wind.
"You're well-mannered for an opaque being," the
Glaeziver said. Its voice was like a cymbalon.
"If you can pronounce my name, you may use it."
It spoke a beautiful word like a song, which
Saavik reproduced as best she could.
"Not bad," the Glaeziver said. "You may call
me that, if you like. I prefer it to Fred."
was "Fred"?" Saavik said.
"One of my co-workers fancies that my name sounds
like a phrase of Chopin's. How may I address
you?"
"My name is Saavik."
"How do you do, Saavik. What can I do for you?"
"I wish to analyze a sample from the interior of
Regulus I. May I use your equipment?"
"Can you talk and work at the same time?" 72
like For Spock
"Certainly."
"In that case, I'll make you a deal. We will
analyze your sample on my equipment while you
tell me what has been going on out here inside
Regulus I, and in the Mutara."
"That appears a fair trade to me,"
Saavik said.
"Great. What kind of analysis do you want
macroscopic, molecular, atomic,
subatomic?"
"Molecular, please."
"You got it." --
Glaezivers had a reputation for being very formal and
stand-offish. Saavik found it quite interesting that the being
had held to formality during their introductions, but
spoke very casually otherwise. It was very easy to think
of it as "Fred."
Saavik's cabin was standard for a Federation ship,
designed and intended for a human being. The lighting
imitated the spectrum of Earth's star, and the
temperature conformed to the temperate regions of their
home planet. Saavik glanced around the room,
approving of its lack of extraneous decoration and
its communications terminal, disapproving of the heavily
padded furniture. She preferred hard chairs and a
sleeping mat.
She reprogrammed the environmental controls.
The light dimmed and reddened, and the
temperature began gradually to rise. Saavik
sat down for the first time since arriving on Grzssom.
Preparing for the survey of Genesis and
analysing the sample from Regulus I had given
her plenty of work, for which she was grateful. It took
her mind off the fears she had had for her own sanity.
But since leaving the Enterprise, she no longer
sensed Spock's presence. If she still believed in
ghosts as she had when she was little, for things happened on
Hellguard that an uneducated and unsophisticated
STAR TREK 111
child could explain no other way she would have believed
Spock's shade to be haunting the Enterprise. But
she did not believe in ghosts anymore. She
believed that for a short wh ile she had been at least a
little bit insane.
And now? To test herself, to test the silence,
Saavik took the risk of opening her mental
shields. She closed her eyes and reached out,
seeking any resonance, real or imagined, of
Spock.
After some minutes she opened her eyes again. She
had found nothing.
The echo of her teacher had vanished. He was gone,
and Saavik grieved for him. But at least she was not
mad.
She picked up the printout of the
Regulus I sample and reread the analysis.
Someone knocked on her door.
"Come."
David entered, smiling. "Hi. Guess what.
I'm right next door. Great, huh?"
"That depends. Have you come to your senses?"
"What? Are you talking about what happened down in
the Genesis cave?" He shrugged it off. "Yeah,
sure, sorry I don't know what got into me. I
guess I was overexcited."
"That is your explanation?"
"What's the matter? I'm sorry I tried
to take your phaser that was dumb. If it's any
comfort, you twisted the hell out of my wrist. I can still
feel it. And, look, there's a bruise here on my
hand where you put your thumb."
"You should not have resisted," Saavik said. "You
injured yourself with your own violence."
"And you got your revenge."
"Why do you assume I want revenge? Or that
I 74
The Search For Spock
would take pleasure in hurting you? That is beside the
point. You know that I do not use recreational
drugs. Even if I did, I was on
duty when we beamed down to the Genesis caves.
How could you not warn me?"
"Saavik, what are you talking about?"
Saavik was prepared for a laugh and a claim of "a
little joke." She was not prepared for deliberate
obtuseness. She handed him the printout.
He scanned it.
"Interesting organic make-up. What is it?"
"You should know. You designed it."
"I never did. I never saw this set of
molecules before in my life."
"David, that is an analysis of the Genesis
vines the vines you created."
"It's nothing like. Well, superficially,
maybe. But this whole subset of molecules his
"I ran the samples twice," Saavik said.
"I am hardly infallible, but this summary Is
accurate."
"But it shouldn't look like this. I don't even know
what half the stuff is."
"This," Saavik said, pointing to a heterocyclic
compound, "is an extremely potent psychoactive
alkaloid."
"What!" David looked at it more closely.
"My gods, it could be, couldn't it?"
"It is. It is also the reason we behaved as we
did why we nearly abandoned our tasks to go
exploring, like two irresponsible children his
was "We"?" David said, rubbing his wrist.
"You could have fooled me, if you were about to do anything out
of line."
"I came very close to it," Saavik said. "The
active ingredient in those vines is a narcotic."
"I designed it so you could brew tea out of the
leaves if you wanted. I put a lot of caffeine
in it, that's all."
STAR TREK 111
Saavik could see the resemblance between the
molecule in question and caffeine, but it had gone through
considerable mutation to become what it was.
"I think you would not want to brew tea out of this
plant," Saavik said. "Or make wine of its
fruit."
"You never know," David said.
Saavik raised one eyebrow.
"Just kidding," David said.
Chapter 4
Phase three of Genesis spun like a
mobile drifting in the breeze. David watched the
newly-formed star system on the Grissom's
viewscreen. Despite his calculated calm, he
was astonished that the new world was his creation. So far it
looked like the programs had worked perfectly. The
lack of a sun for the world to orbit had enabled the
star-forming subroutine The great dustcloud of the Mutara
Nebula had
provided plenty of mass to form a small, hot
star.
David leaned against the bridge rail. He
felt out of place and in the way, despite the
ship's being there at least partly because of him. Behind him,
at the main sensor station, Saavik seemed
to David very much in place, cool and controlled.
She had forgiven him for the incident in the Genesis
caves back on Regulus I. David truly
had not designed a plant containing a chemical of the
potency they
STAR TREK 111
found. They had talked about what might have gone
wrong. The changes in the experiment's outcome were
of a far greater magnitude than David had
expected. He was still trying to convince himself
that everything really had evolved nearly the way the
Genesis team
intended, only a little more so. He was not ready
to admit any serious doubts to himself, much less
discuss them with anyone. Even Saavik.
Saavikcompleted the current log entry.
"dis . . We are approaching destination planet
at point zero three five. So noted in ship's
log."
She removed the data cube from the recorder and
delivered the log to Captain Esteban to certify and
seal.
"Very well, Lieutenant." To the helm officer,
he said, "Execute standard orbital approach."
"Standard orbit, aye."
"Communications. Send a coded message for
Starfleet Commander, priority one . . ."
He paused for a moment. David decided, with a
smile, that the captain was thinking over his message
to be sure it would not include a single informal word.
was "Federation science vessel Grissom arriving
Genesis planet, Mutara sector, to begin
research. As ordered, full security procedures
are in effect. J.t. Esteban, commanding." his
"Aye sir, coding now."
David found the security on Grissom
restrictive and a little scary. Genesis had always
been, in theory, a secret project. Acceding to the
security requirements had been the only way they
could get the research funded. The whole team had
taken a rather lackadaisical attitude toward the
rules, mostly by thinking about them as
infrequently as possible. They had all been
certain that the first implementation of the project would
make secrecy impossible.
That's one thing we were right about, David thought. 78
The Search For Spock
But now the authorities wanted to try to clamp the
lid back down.
On Grissom, dealing with Starfleet directly
instead of one step removed, David had the distinct
impression that they wished he knew nothing about the
project, and that they would have denied him clearance if
they could have done so without looking ridiculous.
Captain Esteban turned toward him. "Dr.
Marcus," he said, "it's your planet."
Astonished, and pleased despite himself, David
grinned. "Thank you, Captain. Begin scanning,
please." He joined Saavik at the science station
as she activated the macroscopic
scanner. It glowed into life, forming a schematic
of the world before them. The schematic showed a stable
sphere, with core, mantle, crust, and oceans,
absolutely indistinguishable from a naturally
evolved world.
Well, what did you expect? David asked
himself. That it would be flat?
Suddenly he laughed, and all his doubts and fears
evaporated in the sheer pleasure of inspecting his
handiwork.
"This is where the fun begins, Saavik!" he said.
She replied, sotto voce, "Like your father . .
. so human." Then, turning on the recorder, she
took the irony and humor out of her voice. "All
units functional, recorders are on....
Scanning sector one. The foliage is in a
fully developed state of growth. Temperature,
twenty-two point two degrees Celsius."
"Sector two . . . indicating desert
terrain," David said. "Minimal vegetation,
temperature thirty-nine point four."
At several team presentation meetings the discussion
had cantered on whether to include desert or any
other severe climates at all. Vance said he was
not interested in working on anything "so
beautiful it's sappy," Del
STAR TREK 111
(as usual) agreed with Vance. Zinaida
persisted, as Deltans often did, in quoting the
Vulcan philosophy, "infinite diversity in
infinite combinations." David wondered how
Vulcans liked being quoted by the Federation's most
renowned sensualists. He himself had pushed for trying
to make Genesis a shirt-sleeve environment from
pole to pole. That would have been quite a challenge. He
was, however, outvoted.
"Sector three," Saavik said.
"Subtropical vegetation."
David glanced across the bank of sensors. They
must be scanning a region where several different
ecotypes blended into one another.
"Temperature was Saavik said.. She stopped
and checked her readings again. "Temperature
decreasing rapidly."
My gods, look at that, David thought.
Infinite diversity indeed.
"It's snow," he said. "Snow in the same
sector. Fantastic!" He could not get a
topographical map off the sensor he was
using, but he assumed they must be looking at a
snowcapped mountain upthrust in the midst of
subtropical forest edged by desert.
"Fascinating," Saavik said.
"All the varieties of land and weather known to Earth
within a few hours' walk!" David knew he was
exaggerating, just a bit, but for a time the team had
engaged in a sort of informal competition to see who
could design the most complicated conditions within the
smallest area. Nobody had quite come up with a workable
way to juxtapose arctic and equatorial cli-
mates, but everyone had developed a different
method of coming close. Some of the schemes were
positively Byzantine. The trouble was, Carol
eventually declared the competition out of hand and said she would
not include any of the results in the Genesis
device.
The Search For Spock
Maybe she changed her mind, David thought.
"You must be very proud of what you and your mother have
created," Saavik said.
David gazed at the sensors and felt some of his
doubts and fears beginning to creep back.
"It's a little early to celebrate," he
said.
One of the sensors erupted into frantic beeping.
Saavik started, then covered her surprise by bending
intently over the monitor.
"Same sector," she said evenly.
"Metallic mass."
"Underground, right?" Dav id said. "Probably
an ore deposit."
"Negative," Saavik said. "It is on the
surface, a manufactured object."
Manufactured! David thought. Debris from
Khan's ship? The Genesis torpedo? But that was
impossible
anything in range of the Genesis wave had
disintegrated into a plasma of subelementary
particles. Then he realized
"There's only one thing it could be!" he said.
He glanced at Saavik. Surely the same
answer must have occurred to her. She gazed intently
at the sensors.
"Short range scan," David said.
Esteban joined them at the console and glanced over
the readings.
"Approximately two meters long,"
Saavik said. "Cylindrical in form . .
."
"A photon tube to was
Saavik continued to avoid David's look.
She's upset, David thought, and she's
embarrassed about being upset. I don't blame
her If I thought I'd buried a friend, and then his
coffin turned up . . .
"Could it be Spock's?" Esteban asked.
David had noticed that the captain did not much like
being surprised.
"It has to be," David said. There were several
ways it
STAR TREK 111
could have reached the surface of the Genesis world without
burning up in the atmosphere like a shooting star. "The
gravitational fields were still in flux. It must have
soft-landed."
"In code to Starfleet," Esteban said.
""Captain Spock's tube located intact on
Genesis surface. Will relay more data on
subsequent orbits.""
"Yes, sir," said the communications officer.
"Coding your message."
Saavik continued to stare at the changing
sensors. David neither questioned nor challenged her.
Instead, he reached out and put his hand over hers. Still
she said nothing, but she did not draw away from him,
either.
As the ship passed over the surface of the new
world, crossing the terminator into darkness, the sensor's
beeps grew fainter and fainter. The ship moved out
of line-of-sight of the torpedo tube and the signals
cut off abruptly.
J.t. Esteban thoughtfully stroked his thumb under
his jaw and considered what to do. Spock's coffin was
supposed to have been launched in a standard burial
orbit, one that should have resulted in complete ablation.
There should be nothing at all left of it. That it had
landed intact created all sorts of problems, from the
possibility of contamination to the responsibility for
retrieving the casket and either re-launchingit
(j.t. would send it into the star, so there could be no
mistake), or holding a formal interment on the
surface of Genesis. Technically, Spock's
most recent C.o. shoukl make the decision. But
with any luck, someone at Starfleet HQ would
give the word. Jim Kirk could do without going through the
wringer agam over the death of a friend.
Under any other circumstances, J.t.
might have taken it upon himself to decide what would be
done, 82
The Search For Spock
but not this time not when it involved something as
important as Genesis.
Personal log of James T. Kirk
With most of battle damage repaired, we are
almost home. Yet I feel tilde uneasy. And
I wonder why. Perhaps it is the erratic behavior
of ship's eon Leonard McCoy, or the
emptiness of the vessel. Most of . trainee crew
have been ream signed. Lieutenant Sanvik and my
son David are exploring a new world. The
Enterprise feels like a house with an the children
gone.... No, more empty even than that. The news
of Spock's tube has shaken me. It seems that
I have left the noblest part of myself back there, on that
newborn planet.
Jim Kirk stalked the bridge of the
Enterprise. Sorting out his thoughts in his personal
log had failed to diminish his unease.
He paused next to the science station, where Spock
always sat. He put his hands on the back of the
chair. The transmission from Esteban, on
Genesis, troubled hirn. He felt
unreasonably angered and betrayed at the news that
Spock's coffin had soft-landed. Kirk had ordered
a trajectory that should have burned the tube to ashes in
the upper atmosphere of Genesis. Whether
Spock's body returned to its constituent atoms
quickly, in fire, or slowly, in the earth of a new
world, surely did not matter to the Vulcan any
longer. But Kirk, who wished the flames for himself
when he died, had made a decision and given an
order, and some unforeseen and
unknown conspiracy of the universe had served
to defy him.
Starfleet had sent the medical rescue ship
Firenze out
STAR TREK 111
to meet the Enterprise and to transport all but a
few of its trainee crew, injured and healthy
alike, back to Earth, so at least he no longer
had a boatload of children to worry about.
The Enterprise, though patched and limping, was out of
immediate danger. It could easily have made it to Alpha
Ceti V to rescue Reliant's crew, whom
Khan marooned when he hijacked their ship. But before
the light of Firenze's engines had
fairly red-shifted out of the visible spectrum,
Starfleet recalled the Enterprise to Earth and sent
another ship to Alpha Ceti V. "The
Enterprise is fully capable of carrying out this
mission," Kirk had said, and HQ replied, with a
fine disregard for irony, "But, Admiral, your
ship is dangerously shorthanded. was By then Kirk
did not know
whether to laugh, cry, or blow his stack. He
decided, instead, to make the best of it.
David's decision to return with Grissom to the
Genesis world disappointed Kirk. Carol was barely
speaking to him. One relationship that had started well and
one that he had thought to resume were dissolving
into nothingness.
And finally, there was Leonard McCoy. Kirk was
worried about him. Kirk could have
understood grief; he could even have understood a
refusal to admit to grief. He could not comprehend
McCoy's disjointed conversation, his brief
episodes of intense activity, and his speaking
Spock's words in Spock's voice.
For a while Kirk had felt good about having his
ship back, but the price of regaining it was far too
high.
Get hold of yourself! he thought. He turned
away from Spock's station.
"Status, Mr. Sulu?"
"On course, Admiral," Sulu said.
"Estimating Spacedock in two point one hours."
The Search For Spock
"Very well." returned to his own place on the
bridge. "Mr. Chekov, I need a
pre-approach scan. Take the science station,
please."
Chekov hesitated. Kirk understood his
reasons, but the ship could not function without the science
station. Someone had to take Spock's place. The
sooner Kirk and Chekov and
everybody else got used to that, the better.
"Yes, sir," Chekov said. He stood, left
the helm, and moved to the science station.
"Uhura," Kirk said, "any response from
Starfleet on our Project Genesis
inquiries?"
"No, sir," Uhura said. "No response."
"Odd . . ." Kirk murmured. He was
accustomed to having his questions answered without delay.
Esteban had been infuriatingly obscure
about the public reaction to the Genesis effect. He
had piqued Kirk's curiosity. Apparently,
though, Kirk was just going to have to wait until he got
back to headquarters to find out what was going on.
He opened an intercom channel to the engine
room.
"Scotty, progress report?"
"We're almost done, sir," Scott replied.
"Ye'll be fully automated by the time we dock."
"Your timing is excellent, Mr. Scott,"
he said. "You've fixed the barn door after the horse
has come home." Scott's jury-rigged automation
would help relieve the ship's shorthandedness . . .
for about the last hour of the return trip. "How much
refit time till we can take the ship out again?"
"Eight weeks, sir his
Kirk started to protest, but before he could get a
word out, Scott spoke again.
was But ye dinna have eight weeks, so I'll do
i' for ye in two."
STAR TREK 111
Kirk had the feeling the Scot had been waiting
for a very long time to spring that line on him. In the same
spirit, he said, "Mr. Scott have you always
multiplied your repair estimates by a factor of
four?"
"Certainly, sir. How else would ye expect
me to keep my reputation as a miracle worker?"
"Your reputation is secure, Scotty." He
turned off the intercom. "Captain Sulu, take
the cone. I'll be in my quarters."
"Aye, sir," Sulu said.
Kirk climbed the stairs to the upper level of the
bridge. Before he got within range of the
turbo-lift's sensors, one of the few trainees
who had remained on board half-rose.
"Sir I was wondering ?"
The cadet was an electronics specialist who
had kept the navigational computer going during and after
the battle, when Spock was no longer able to do so.
Ignoring the breach of protocol, Kirk dredged in
his memory and came up with the youth's name.
"Yeses Foster, is it?"
"Aye, sir," Foster said. The pleasure and
embarrassment at being recognised brought a red
blush to his dark face. "I wondered, when we
get home what should we expect? Does anybody
back on Earth know what happened out there?"
"Will they give us a hero's welcome?"
Kirk smiled gently, for some of the youngsters, Foster
among them, had behaved extraordinarily well for
being half-trained and inexperienced. "Lord knows,
son, they ought to. This time we paid for the party with our
dearest blood."
He took the last step into the turbo-lift's
sensor field. The doors opened, and he disappeared
between them.
When the doors closed, cutting him off from the
The Search For Spock
bridge, he let the mantle of command fall
away from his shoulders. He slumped against the wall.
The respite would be short, but at least during the
ride to his quarters he could be free of
responsibilities.
The lift slowed and stopped, and the doors slid
open. Almost as a reflex, Kirk straightened up.
McCoy stood in the doorway. He looked as
if he had not slept in days, and as if, when he
tried to sleep, he had lain down in his clothes. The
beard repressor he used had worn off at least
twenty-four hours ago. He needed a shave.
He entered the elevator, turned to stand side
by side with Kirk, and gazed nonchalantly
at the ceiling. The lift hummed into motion again.
"Bones," Kirk said, a greeting with a hint of a
query in it.
"Jim," McCoy said stiffly, ignoring the
implied question.
Kirk waited, hoping McCoy would offer some
explanation for his appearance, hoping he would show some
sign of snapping out of his strange behavior.
McCoy continued to stare at the ceiling.
"Are you planning," Kirk said with irritation,
"to shave today?"
"Quo wadis, Admiral?" McCoy said.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Kirk searched
McCoy's face, hoping to find what? A flash of
his friend's intelligence and good sense pushing him beyond the
guilt he felt for Spock's death? There was nothing
McCoy could have done,
nothing any of them could do. If Spock had not
behaved as he had, the Vulcan would not have been the
only one to die. They all would be dead. But
McCoy regarded any death as a personal
failure.
"What is our destination?" McCoy asked. He
articu-87
STAR TREK 111
lated each word precisely, without contractions.
No trace of his southern accent showed, though usually
it was strongest when he was under stress.
"We'll be orbiting Earth in two hours,"
Kirk said.
"Then we are headed in the wrong direction."
He spoke as if to the air, without turning toward
Kirk, without taking his gaze from the ceiling.
"Bones, don't do this! This is me, Jim. Your
friend."
When McCoy spoke, his voice took on a
peculiar, low timbre. "And I have been, and
always shall be, yours."
Kirk suddenly shivered. The chill of fear
infuriated him. He wanted to grab McCoy and
shake him back to his senses.
"Damn it, Bones! Don't quote Spock
to me! I have enough pain of my own. I don't need
your your self-indulgence."
McCoy slowly turned toward him. His eyes were
glazed. "You left me," he said in a completely
matterof-fact tone. "You left me on Genesis.
Why did you do that?"
"What the hell are you saying?"
McCoy blinked slowly, then suddenly
reacted to what he himself had just said.
"I don't know . . . I just . . ." He
stopped. "Why did we leave Spock?"
"Bones! You must deal with the truth. He's gone."
Kirk gripped McCoy's upper arms. His
intensity increased. "Spock is gone. We both have
to live with that."
McCoy stared at him a moment, then lifted his
hands and grasped Kirk's forearms in a gesture of
understanding and gratitude. They stayed like that only a
split second before McCoy pulled away.
The turbo-lift stopped; the doors opened.
McCoy
The Search For Spock
took one hurried step out, then swung back
to face Kirk.
"I can't get him out of my head, Jim! I'd
give the whole state of Georgia if someone could
tell me why."
The doors slid closed again, shutting Kirk
off, alone, angry, and confused.
Valkris rose to her feet, taking only
detached notice of the smoothness with which she moved. The
high gravity, the hours in one position,
had no effect on her. She had never meditated in
such an intense gravity field before. She wished she
had discovered its beneficial properties much
sooner.
The cabin held all her material possessions,
which were honorably few in number. Valkris'
wealth resided in the holdings of her bloodline, in
her responsibilities, and in the duties she had
carried out for her family. It resided particularly
in the duty she had carried out toward her brother.
"Kiosan, dear brother, may you drink and
carouse and gamble for all time," she said softly, without
a trace of irony or anger.
She picked up her headcloth, put it on, and
drew the sheer fabric across her face. She could
see perfectly, and felt comforted to know that the
material was opaque from the other side, opaque to the
barbarians with whom she must treat;
Then she left her cabin for the first time since the
voyage had begun.
Valkris strode through the corridors of the ship,
as repelled now by the shabby, dirty vessel as she
had been when first she boarded. The trip were better
made on a sturdy, high-powered ship of
Valkris' family's own production,
but, alas, that was not to be. Not in this region of
space.
STAR TREK 111
A shadow moved.
Valkris stopped short, reaching for the dueling
knife that hung almost, but not quite, concealed at her
side.
The shadow stepped forward, resolving itself into the
feline form of the ship's navigator. Farrendahl
glided toward her, stalking
four-legged, calmly inspecting her.
"Milady passenger," Farrendahl said softly,
a purr in her voice. "To what event do we owe the
honor of your company?"
"Milady navigator," Valkris said.
"Does a simple constitutional qualify as an
event?"
"I wonder," said Farrendahl.
The single most exciting thing Valkris had ever
seen was a performance of a hunt by a troupe of
Farrendahl's people. One of the reasons Valkris had
chosen this ship above another was her research into the
crew. She had hoped to speak with Farrendahl and
to learn more about her civilisation and her people,
who had been in space thousands of years longer than
any other known species. Farrendahl's kind did
not claim planets, they did not colonise, they
did not take territory. They only explored, and
hunted, and made their homes beyond the frontiers of
space. Perhaps, to them, the exploration and the hunt were the
same.
These were the first words the two had
exchanged. When Valkris had come on board,
she realised she could not take time to socialise.
She had much to think over, much to work out. She
preferred action to meditation, but her meditation had
brought her to certain conclusions; and now she rather wished
she had chosen not to hire this particular ship.
"Perhaps milady passenger would care to divulge
our destination? I am the navigator; I must know it
eventually."
"I think not," Valkris said. "As we are
nearly there."
"But there's no star system within a parsec!"
- So
The Search For Spock
"Nevertheless," Valkris said.
Farrendahl bristled out her whiskers and growled
softly, a thoughtful sound.
"A rendezvous, then," she said.
"I did not say so."
"You did not have to."
Farrendahl's presumption amused and delighted
Valkris. It also made her very sad.
But then she thought, If one were worthy . . . if
one were sufficiently perceptive . . .
The handle of the dueling knife still lay cool in
Valkris' hand, but now she had no thought of drawing
the blade.
The sheath of the knife was encrusted with flakes of
minerals, so finely-cut they appeared as gemstones.
The sheath ended in a heavy mass of fringe that was also
thickly hung with cunningly milled discs of mica
in all the colors of the spectrum. Each
frequency of color meant
something different, some honor or remem-brance.
Many her dueling records were
transparent and colorless, the representation of
emptiness, nothingness, death. She chose to carry
only one that was black; her disinclination to carry a
disc for each member of her family was the only
fault her bloodline could hold against her.
She unfastened the length of fringe and drew it from
beneath her robe.
"Milady navigator," she said to Farrendahl,
"I wish to give you a gift." She slid the
sparkling strands across her palm, The sharp discs
touched together with a sound as silver as water. "This might
benefit you, one day. It has no intrinsic
value. It is . . . symbolic." She offered it
to Farrendahl. "Be careful," she said. "The edges
are quite sharp."
The navigator accepted the decoration gingerly.
"Milady passenger . . . why do you honor me?"
STAR TREK 111
"You might," Valkris said, "call it a
whim."
"But I might not. was Farrendahl stroked the
strands so gently that she did not need to fear the razor
edges. Her delicate, clawed fingers singled out the
black shard of mica. "Who is this?" she said.
Valkris felt pleased beyond reason and dignity.
Few in this region of space would understand, as the
navigator did, what she had been given, much
less the significance of its details. If
anything she had underestimated Farrendahl, not
overestimated her.
"It is my brother, Kiosan," she
said. "He, or any member of my bloodline, would
recognise what you hold, and honor it."
Farrendahl looked up at her, seeking the
explanations that Valkris could not speak aloud.
"Milady passenger," Farrendahl said, "your
hand is bleeding. his
"Yes," Valkris said. "It does not
matter."
She strode down the passageway without
looking back.
Farrendahl watched the mysterious passenger
glide away. The ceremonial fringe, with its
adornment of electronically readable glass-chip
records, hung heavy in her hands.
Farrendahl did not understand why the
passenger would wish to warn her, a stranger. She
did not understand why she had offered the warning in a
symbolic and obscure way rather than directly.
But she did understand what the warning was. At least
she thought she did. And if she was right, she had
to make a decision instantly.
Farrendahl attached the fringe to her belt, for she
carried no knife to which to fasten it. Then she sprang
into a run, four-legged, and loped down the
corridor.
She slid to a stop at Trants cabin and raked
her claws
The Search For Spock
across the surface of the door, scratching the paint
and the metal underneath. Like the
passenger's bleeding hand, that did not matter any
more.
"What is it?" Sleep slurred Tran's
voice. Like most primates, he woke slowly.
But for a primate he was all right.
"Let me in," Farrendahl said.
The door opened, and she paced into the darkness. In
a moment she could see. Tran sat in a tangle of
blankets, blinking the sleep from his eyes.
"What's the matter?"
"Get up. Hurry. We're leaving."
"Leaving ?"
"Do you trust me?"
"In what context?" he said, sounding more awake.
Farrendahl growled and turned on the
computer terminal on the wall of Tran's cabin.
"I have no patience for discussions of
anthropoidal philosophy," she said. She
reproduced a securitybreaching
program she had developed long ago, tunnelled
into the ship's computer, and disabled certain alarms. "I
am leaving this ship. I am leaving now. I have good
reason. You may come, or you may stay. It is of
no moment to me which you choose."
Tran threw off the blankets and reached for his
pants. "Then why are you bothering to tell me?"
Farrendahl did not bother to reply. She hid
her tracks in the computer with a flimsy cover that would
break down under any scrutiny, but she doubted
anyone would have the chance even to begin an investigation.
"I guess if I've been promoted from
pithecanthropoid to anthropoid was Tran fastened
his belt and reached for his shirt.
"No time for all that foolishness!" Farrendahl
said. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of his
cabin. 93
STAR TREK 111
He snatched up his shirt and his boots and carried
them with him. Farrendahl raced down the corridor,
pulling Tran behind her.
Valkris swept into the control room.
"We're nearly there," the captain said when he
noticed her.
"We are there," she said. "Kill all
velocity."
The captain frowned, then nodded to the crew member
at the control console, giving assent to his
passenger's order.
"Where the hell's Farrendahl?" he said.
The ship vibrated faintly as it decelerated
to counteract the forward momentum. And was
that a slight sideways shudder, as of a small
craft exiting its mother ship? Valkris could not be
certain.
"We have no more need of a navigator,
captain," she said evenly.
"Delta-vee zero."
"Scan the area," the captain ordered.
Valkris smiled to herself as the scanning began.
It continued for some minutes. Valkris retired
to shadows in the back of the chamber, rather enjoying the
curious and very nervous glances of the disreputable
rogues around her.
"Nothing, captain," the crew member said.
"Steady . . . steady, boys. Keep
scanning." The captain gave Valkris a
poisonous glance. "I thought you people were reliable. Where
the hell is he?"
"He has been here for some time. I can
feel his presence."
"Don't give me your Klingon mumbo-jumbo!
There ain't another vessel in this whole damned
sector!"
Valkris noticed the reaction among the crew
to what their captain had said, and by it she understood that
The Search For Spock
none but he, on this nominally Federation ship, had
known till now who or what she was.
"Put me on the hailing frequency,"
Valkris said, ignoring his impertinence. Nothing could
affect her or offend her now.
"Sure," the captain said, sourly and
sarcastically, "whatever games you want to play."
He opened the channel for her, and nodded that it was
ready.
Valkris grasped the end of her headcloth, using
her uninjured right hand, and drew it slowly aside.
The crew reacted uneasily to her appearance,
their recent suspicions confirmed, new fears
engendered. Renegades they might be, but they were
renegades within the Federation, still a part of it.
Valkris' people were their antagonists, unknown and
dangerous.
Approaching the transmitter, Valkris moved
from shadows into light.
"Commander Kruge, this is Valkris. I have
obtained the Federation data, and I am ready
to transmit."
"Well done, Valkris. Stand by."
Everyone in the control room, even the captain,
started at the rough, powerful voice that crashed out of the
speaker. The voice spoke a few words which only
Valkris recognised, for they were in a Klingon
language. Now knowing precisely what Kruge
planned, she turned toward the viewport, watched,
and waited.
"Oh, my gods," one of the crew members
whispered.
Like a ghost, like a creature of mist and fog, the
Klingon fighter glowed into existence before the renegade
merchant ship, very close,
threatening. The Klingon craft had the same
effect as its master's powerful voice.
"What the hell . . . ?" the merchant captain
said.
Valkris herself had never seen the cloaking
device in action before. It impressed and fascinated
her. She 95
STAR TREK 111
watched carefully until the ship had taken
complete and solid shape.
"Transmit data," Commander Kruge said.
Valkris withdrew the data record from an inner
pocket of her robe and inserted it into the
transmission enclosure. The monitor blurred
with the highspeed transmission. Valkris could not
resolve the images, but she knew every frame of
what she was sending.
"Transmission completed, Commander. You will find it
essential to your mission."
Valkris's hot blood streamed down her
slashed wrist and palm and between her fingers, soaking the
inner folds of her robe, growing cold. She was
beginning to feel the effects of loss of blood.
In the language of Kruge and Valkris, which
possessed an almost limitless number of forms and
variations, every utterance had many layers, many meanings.
When Kruge spoke again, he switched to the most
formal variation. Valkris understood it, as did all
well-born members of their society, but she had
never spoken it, or had it spoken to her, outside the
classroom. She felt honored, and she knew for
certain that Kruge would keep the vows he
had made to her.
"Then you have seen the transmission," Kruge said,
implying regret and inevitability.
"I have, my lord," Valkris replied, granting
permission in the second stratum and offering forgiveness
as the third.
"That is unfortunate," Kruge said, accepting
what she gave him and affirming that it was neither
frivolously given nor lightly accepted.
"I understand," Valkris said. She made all
three strata the same, for she wanted him to know that
she understood what she was doing and why, that she understood
what he was doing and why, and that she g6
The Search For Spock
understood that he would make certain the promises
made to her would be kept.
"Thrusters," Kruge said, in the form of their
language used by commanders to subordinates.
In the viewport, the Klingon fighter changed.
The wings of its aft armament section swung from
neutral into attack. The vessel rotated, arcing
around until its bulbous command chamber thrust toward
the merchant ship.
The merchant captain turned on Valkris in a
fury.
"What's going on? When do we get paid off?"
"Soon, Captain," Valkris said. "Quite
soon." She spoke again, in formal tongue,
to Kruge. "Success, Commander. And my love."
She did love him, indeed, as the instrument of her
bloodline's redemption.
She felt curiously lightheaded and happy.
Happiness had deserted her for far too long. She
was glad to experience it this one last time.
"You will be remembered with honor," Kruge said.
Then he switched dialects again. Valkris knew
he was speaking so she would be sure to hear his command
"Fire!"
The Klingon fighter swept toward them like a
hunting falcon. Valkris did not see the beams
of energy, for their destructive force reached the
merchant ship at the same instant as the coherent
light that formed them. The ship quaked. People shouted, then
screamed. Valkris smelled the acrid smoke of
burning insulation and flash-burned computer
circuits. She heard the terrible hiss of escaping
air.
I have shown my face to the world long
enough, she thought. It is time to return to the
customs of my family.
Her left hand was dark with blood. It marred the
whiteness of the veil as she covered her face for the last
time.
STAR TREK 111
"For gods' sake!" the merchant captain cried.
"Make him help us! We'll keep your damn
secrets, just don't let him space us!"
Valkris closed her eyes.
The bulkhead imploded upon her.
The merchant ship exploded into slag. A shock
wave of pure energy battered its scout ship, which
Farrendahl had gentled out into space and concealed against
the side of the larger craft. At the instant of the
explosion, Farrendahl hit the acceleration hard,
cut it just as abruptly, and fired all the steering
rockets at once. The maneuver blasted the scout
out of its hiding place along the merchant's flank
and put so much roll, pitch, and yaw on the scout that
it would look like merely another bit of exploded
debris.
Tran shouted an inarticulate curse.
The scout was far too small to carry gravity, so
the spin had its full effects on the occupants.
Farrendahl struggled to keep her bearings and
her consciousness. When she could stand the erratic
tumbling no more, she gradually engaged the steering
rockets and brought the scout to a steadier course.
She dared not do it quickly lest the attacker notice
that this bit of the ship moved under its own power.
"So "we may have to just turn around and go back
inside," huh?" Tran said, still stunned and
dizzy. That had been the only explanation
Farrendahl would give him, till now, and now the
explanation was obvious.
She used the aft scanners. Through the
expanding, thinning cloud of debris, Farrendahl
saw the Klingon ship send one last blast of energy
against the destroyed merchant, then turn away from its
kill and head toward Federation territory.
"Where did it come from?" Tran said.
"Out of the ether," Farrendahl said.
The Search For Spock
The scout ship carried too little fuel to reach the
nearest inhabited star system. She plotted a
low-fuel course toward the nearest shipping lane,
where they stood an excellent chance of being picked
up. It would take them a while to get there. Just as
well before they were rescued, they would need
to fabricate a believable and
innocuous explanation for their plight.
Commander Kruge watched the ramshackle
merchant ship go violently and silently
to pieces under his fire. He stroked the spiny crest
of his mascot, Warrigul, who sat by his side
whining and hissing with excitement.
The demise of an opponent offered more
satisfaction if the death came slowly, but the
merchant was too easy a catch to be treated as an
opponent. Besides, Kruge deigned to give
Valkris a clean finish.
He nodded to his gunner, who reacted to the
unusual order without question or hesitation. He fired
the beams and blew the merchant ship beyond atoms.
The few remaining bits of debris tumbled
away. Kruge felt completely satisfied. His
only regret was never meeting Valkris face
to face. He had heard much of her, both before her
bloodline came to grief and after. Her information would
win for him a great triumph; her death would return
her family to its previous place in their
society's hierarchy. Kruge doubted that the
family had another member to choose who would be the
match of the formidable VaLkris. He
wondered if he himself could match her. He was good, but
she was renowned as a duelist. Now he would never have
the chance to test himself against her.
Kruge rose and surveyed the work pit. His command
chair stood at a level that put him well above the
heads of the crew members. None looked at him.
Each bent intently over the task at hand, fearing a
charge of laziness and the resulting discipline. Kruge
could find
STAR TREK Hl
some breach of regulations under almost any
circumstances, but having just asserted his dominance over
the merchant ship, he felt no need to assert his
complete authority over his crew.
He removed the data plaque from the recorder and
slipped it under his belt.
Warrigul rubbed its head against Kruge's
knee. Its spines scraped against the heavy fabric
of the commander's trousers. Kruge reached down and
scratched behind his pet's ears. Warrigul leaned
harder against him. It was the only creature on board
about whose loyalty the commander had no doubt whatsoever.
Everyone else might be a spy, a challenger, a
traitor.
Kruge glanced at his assistant. As usual,
Maltz reacted badly to ambush. The officer was
deplorably sensitive to violence. Kruge
kept him on because he was an excellent
administrator and follower-of-orders, because Maltz
seldom thought for himself, and because while he might
betray Kruge anyone might become a betrayer
he
would never challenge his commander. It was inconceivable
that any of their superiors would consider Maltz a
suitable replacement for Kruge. Maltz not only
supported Kruge's position, he insured it.
Therefore Kruge pretended never to notice behavior
that some less devious
commander might not have tolerated.
"I'll be in my quarters," Kruge said.
"Execute a course to the Federation boundary."
"Yes, my lord!" Maltz said, and hurried to do
his bidding.
Kruge started away. Warrigul trotted after
him, growling. One of the crew members in the work pit
flinched. He glanced away from his work long enough to be
certain Warrigul was not growling at him, then looked
quickly down at his console again. Kruge stopped. His
boots were on a level just above that of 100
The Search For Spock
the crew member's head. The crew member
reluctantly raised his head when he realized
Kruge was not going to move.
Kruge gestured casually at Warrigul.
"You may have the honor of feeding my pet," he
said.
Struggling to keep the fear from his expression, the
underling nodded vigorously. Kruge was so amused that
he decided not even to discipline him for failing
to answer properly.
The commander strode toward his quarters, where he
kept a secure data-viewer. He was exceedingly
anxious to watch what Valkris had obtained for
him.
Chapter 5
Federation science ship Gr tilde ssom sailed
out of the darkness and into sunrise, crossing the
terminator of the brand new world. David was excited
and pleased by what he had seen so far. For a first try,
Genesis was a smashing success. Saavik, as
usual in public, showed no emotion. He wished
they could go off somewhere and talk so he could [md out
what she really thought.
"New orbit commencing," she said. "Coming up on
sector three."
She was upset by their discovering Captain
Spock's coffin down on the surface, David
knew it, but she hid the fact well. David
decided to try to persuade Captain Esteban
to send some
people down to bury the tube.
"Short range scan," he said.
Saavik studied the sensors. "As before,
metallic mass. Verifying triminium photon
tube. No new data."
"Check for trace radiation. Infrared
enhancement."
The Search For Spock
David had observed Captain Esteban's
tendency toward overcautiousness. He would surely
want to have proof that the tube was safe before he
permitted anyone to approach it.
"Residual radiation only," Saavik said.
"The level is minimal."
The sensor output changed abruptly. David
started violently and hurried to Saavik's side.
Studying the monitor intensely, she
adjusted the controls. But the new sound meant more than
simple interference. Instead of fading, it sharpened and
strengthened.
"I don't believe it," David said.
Captain Esteban, who had been hovering
around them for the whole two hours of the first orbit,
leaned over his shoulder to see the screen.
"What is it?"
"If our equipment is functioning properly,"
Saavik said, "the indications are . . . an
animal life form."
Esteban folded his arms. "You said there wouldn't be
any," he said to David.
"There shouldn't be any. We only enabled the
plant forms in the Genesis matrix."
Captain Esteban seemed unwilling to accept
what David had tried to tell him several times that
Genesis was an experiment. Besides being a
prototype, the torpedo had detonated in an
environment completely different from the one it had been
designed to affect. And who knew what Khan
Singh might have done while he possessed the
device? However obsessed he was, he had to have
been a brilliant man. He could surely have
discovered how to turn on the programs the
team had disabled for the first use of Genesis.
That must be what happened, David thought, if this
reading isn't just a sensor gremlin. If Khan was
going to use Genesis to create a world for his people to live
on,
STAR TREK Ill
he would have wanted the complete ecosphere,
animals included. He would have known he
couldn't import any species from Earth that's for
damned sure!
But David had to wonder why it had taken a
full orbit to find the first animal life form.
He pushed away his worries. Animal life
was decidedly not a symptom of the things David had
most feared might go wrong.
Good grief, now you're sounding like Esteban,
David said to himself. You're demanding a complete
analysis to ten decimal places before you have enough
information for a first
approximation. Go ahead and form a hypothesis if
you want, but don't turn it into a natural law
before you've collected any data.
Then he thought, Holy Heisenberg, what if
Vance's dragons really are down there? That
would please mother.
Saavik had been working while David
daydreamed and Esteban hovered.
"Cross-referenced and verified," she said. "An
unidentified animate life form."
Saavik had been trying to analyze her own
reaction to the discovery of Spock's coffin. At the
time of Spock's funeral, sending his body
to intersect the Genesis wave, to disintegrate into its
subelementary particles and be incorporated into the very
fabric of the new world, had seemed to Saavik an
elegant solution, one Spock would have approved.
Disobeying Admiral Kirk's orders so
flagrantly had troubled her slightly, but her
loyalty to Spock was of a higher order entirely.
In truth, she believed she was the only person who
could understand him and appreciate his life.
Now, having disobeyed Admiral Kirk's
instructions, having chosen an orbit of her own
design, she must take the responsibility for what
had happened. But what had happened? She
was dealing with forces that no one 104
The Search For Spock
yet completely understood. Again and again David
had stressed the potential for unexpected
events. Perhaps the potential reached as far as
inexplicable occurrences . . .
For something or someone was down there on that planet.
Saavik glanced at David and saw that he was as
perplexed as she, yet both delighted and excited.
She wished they could go off in private and discuss
what they had found.
Esteban rubbed his jaw.
"Do you wish to advise Starfleet, sir?" the
communications officer said.
"Wait a minute," Esteban said. "We
don't know what we're talking about here."
"Why don't we beam it up?" David said, just
to watch Esteban react.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Esteban said sharply.
"Regulations specifically state, "Nothing shall be
beamed aboard until danger of contamination has been
eliminated." Can you guarantee that?"
David reflected that it was no fun to pull
someone's leg if he never eventually realised leg
was being pulled.
"Not from here, no," the young scientist said.
"Captain," Saavik said, "the logical
alternative is obvious. Beaming down to the
surface is
permitted his
was "If the captain determines that the mission is
vital and reasonably free of danger." I know
the book, Lieutenant Saavik."
"Captain, please," David said. He was
getting sick and tired of having Starfleet
regulations quoted at him in regard to his own
project. "We'll take the risk. We've got
to find out what's down there!"
"Or who," Saavik said, very softly.
David glanced at her, startled. 105
STAR TREK 111
Estebannodded thoughtfully to David. "All
right," he said. "Get your gear. I'll put you
down next time around."
"Thank you sir," David said.
Starfleet Cadet R. Grenni awoke in the
trainees' dorm. He felt groggy, and his head
ached. He had slept too much. He had nothing
else to do. Whenever he slept, he had
nightmares but even the nightmares were better than
the things he remembered.
He wished he were back on the Enterprise. At
least there he would have work to do. He had volunteered
to stay, but he had been transferred
to Firenze along with most of his other classmates.
Only a few essential cadets had been left
on board the Enterprise. Obviously, Commander
Scott had not considered Grenni essential.
When Firenze reached Earth, Starfleet gave
all the trainees several weeks' leave. If they
had deliberately planned to torture Grenni,
they could not have chosen a better way.
His message light was glowing. He stumbled to the
reception panel. Hands trembling, heart beating
violently, he accepted the communication. They had
caught up to him, they had realized their mistake.
This must be his summons to a court-martial
A small packet fell into the slot.
Reluctantly, he opened the door. The envelope
bore the seal of Starfleet in gold and blue. He
picked it up and fumbled at the flap until it
came loose.
"By order of Admiral James T. Kirk,"
he read, "you are presented with the gold star of
valor, jeweled . . ."
The gold star was for conspicuous bravery. The
jewel signified an engagement in which lives had
been lost. Humans received a ruby. It stood for
blood. Grenni's hands started to shake.
He blinked rapidly, forcing
The Search For Spock
away tears. He barely made it through the rest
of the message. It commanded him and the rest of his class
to appear at Starfleet headquarters a few days from
now, for the formal presentation of the medal.
The delicate gold star, with ruby, fell out of the
envelope and into his hand.
On the bridge of the Enterprise, Jim Kirk
leaned back in the captain's seat. Before him,
Spacedock grew slowly larger. The ship was
nearly home. Kirk felt almost as he had in the
old days. He could almost forget the Enterprise was
running on automatic because it had even less than
a skeleton crew He could almost forget that the ship
was patched and scarred and battle-worn. He could
almost forget the empty chair behind him.
Almost.
"Stand by, automatic approach system," he
said. "Advise approach control."
"Approach control, this is USS
Enterprise," Uhura said. "Ready for docking
maneuver."
The controller came back with a crisp,
clear voice. "Enterprise is cleared to dock."
"Lock on."
Sulu transferred control to Spacedock.
"Systems locked."
"Spacedock," Kirk said, "you have control."
"Affirmative, Enterprise. Enjoy the ride,
and welcome home."
"Enterprise confirms. With thanks."
The ship approached the dock in a huge curve,
arcing around its flank and spiraling in to approach
threshold number fifteen. The great enclosed
docking bay allowed people to work outside the ship, yet
it protected them from the free radiation of space.
The Enterprise sailed closer and closer
to Spacedock, heading straight at the closed
radiation-shield doors.
STAR TREK 111
Kirk never liked having to give up direct
control of his ship.
Finally, at what seemed to him the last second,
the massive doors parted silently. The
Enterprise coasted in and moved slowly and silently
into the bay. It passed ships under construction and ships
under repair, ships in storage, and
decommissioned ships only waiting to be
dismantled.
The enormous bay stretched off into darkness, with
only a single pool of light in its entire length.
The Enterprise came abreast of the lights, where
NX 2000, USS Excelsior, floated
among its acolytes as they readied it for its first
voyage. It was a beautiful ship, sleek and new,
its burnished hull untouched by radiation or
micrometeorites or battle.
"Would you look at that?" Uhura said.
"My friends," Kirk said, "the great experiment
Excelsior, ready for trial runs."
Kirk glanced at Sulu, approving of his
restraint. Excelsior was Sulu's next
assignment, his first command. In many respects,
Sulu was Kirk's protege. The admiral was
proud of the young captain. Kirk searched his heart for
envy and found none. Excelsior belonged to Sulu.
Kirk's ship was the Enterprise, and he wanted
none other.
"It has transwarp drive," Sulu said
matterof-factly.
"Aye," Scott said, "and if my grandmother had
wheels, she'd be a wagon."
"Mr. Scott," Kirk said with mild reproof.
"I'm sorry, sir, but as far as I'm concerned,
there's nothin' needed for space travel that this old
girl doesn't already have."
"Come come, Scotty," Kirk said. "Young
minds. Fresh ideas." His voice grew dry.
"Be tolerant."
Sulu smiled to himself, refusing to be baited by the
conversation. Behind his calm facade he glowed with
The Search For Spock
pride. Excelsior was his ship, the ship he had
worked so hard and waited so long to command. He knew
its lines by heart. He had had
considerable say in its design. He was so proud
of the ship that even Mr. Scott's criticisms could
not get very far under his skin.
He had been around and around about
Excelsior with Scott. Scott thought
Excelsior was a kludge, full of extraneous
bells and whistles. Sulu was beginning to think that
Scott was turning into a sort of high-tech
Luddite, wanting to go just so far and no farther,
afraid of any more advances.
The engineer would change his mind if he
ever got a chance to work inside those engines. Sulu
gazed at his ship, and the sight of it gave him nearly
enough pleasure to overcome the tragedies of the past few
days, nearly enough pleasure to overcome his natural
reserve and make him laugh aloud.
After the Enterprise passed Excelsior,
Sulu noticed movement behind the row of small
ports along the upper level of Docking Bay
15, the ports that opened out from the cafeteria.
Sulu looked more closely.
Everyone sitting up there, drinking coffee, shooting
the breeze, relaxing, saw the Enterprise's
approach. As the great ship limped its slow,
stately way to its berth, all along the line the people
rose in silent acclamation.
Jim Kirk, too, grew aware of the homage.
He fought with powerful and conflicting emotions. When the
controller demanded his attention, he felt glad of the
distraction.
"Enterprise, stand by for final docking
procedure."
"Standing by. Mr. Sulu, activate moorings.
Stand by umbilical and gravitational support
systems."
"Aye, sir. Moorings activated.
All systems standing by."
"Admiral!" Chekov exclaimed. "This is not
possible!"
STAR TREK lll
"What is it, Mr. Chekov?"
"Energy reading from C deck . . . from inside
Mr. Spock's quarters."
"Mr. Chekov, I ordered Spock's quarters
sealed!" Kirk said angrily.
"Yes, sir, I sealed room myself. Nevertheless,
I am reading life form there."
"Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, his voice angry
and quiet, "this entire crew seems on the edge of
obsessive behavior concerning Mr. Spock."
Chekov opened his mouth to protest. Kirk cut him
off with a sharp gesture. "I'll have a look. Mr.
Sulu, continue docking procedure."
Kirk strode from the bridge. As the doors
closed behind him, Chekov shrugged fatalistically.
He saw what he saw. In an assertion of
Vulcan logic that had seemed completely
illogical to Chekov, Spock had always refused
to lock his cabin, or even to go through the security
procedures with the computer that would permit it
to be locked if he chose. Vulcans never used
locks. It was a matter of principle with Spock.
Because of the damage to the electronic systems of the
Enterpr tilde se, Chekov had not been able
to initiate the procedures himself when Kirk ordered
the cabin closed off. Instead, Chekov secured the
door mechanically, that is, with an alarm, with
sensors, andwitha lead seal and stamp from the ship's
archives. Consequently, someone could have broken in.
And unless the sensors had gone completely wonky
(which was also possible), apparently someone had.
Kirk strode toward Spock's room, his
temper frayed comand just short of breaking. If one of the
cadets had entered Spock's room, if this were some
tasteless and
The Search For Spock
thoughtless practical joke then Kirk would soon
be giving someone a lesson in the uses of black
humor.
An alarm was ringing softly. Kirk broke into a
run, then slowed abruptly so as to come upon the
intruder unaware.
At Spock's door he stopped short. A
violent force had ripped away the seal and
wrenched open the door, as if an intruder of
enormous strength had been too distressed, too
desperate, to try any method but direct force.
Kirk touched the alarm, and it faded to silence.
He squinted, but saw nothing through the
darkness. He stepped cautiously forward, waiting
for his eyes to become acclimated to the low light.
"Jim . . . help me . . ."
Kirk gasped. The voice was Spock's.
"Take me up . . . up the steps . . . of
Mount Seleya . . . through the hall of ancient
thought . . ."
Kirk clenched his fists. His hands were shaking with
anger and shock. He peered more deeply into the shadows
and saw
The indistinct form plunged toward him out of the
darkness, knocking him aside. Kirk grabbed it and
wrestled with it. Its strength was enormous. Somehow
he got a judo hold on his opponent and wrenched
him down and into submission. They both fell to the
floor and into the lights from the corridor.
McCoy struggled against him.
"Bones! What the hell are you doing? Have you lost
your mind?"
McCoy stared at him blankly.
"Help me, Jim. Take me home." His
voice rasped, totally drained of strength.
"That's where we are, Bones," Kirk said
gently. "We are home."
STAR TREK 111
"Then ... perhaps there is still time.... Climb the
steps, Jim.... Climb the steps of Mount
Seleya...."
"Mount Seleya? Bones, Mount Seleya is
on Vulcan! We're home! We're on
Earth!"
McCoy's e mpty stare continued. Kirk loosed
his hold on the doctor's arm.
"Remember!" McCoy said.
In Spock's unmistakable voice.
"Rememberff99
Kirk knelt on the cold deck, frozen with
shock.
"Admiral," Uhura said through the intercom,
"docking is completed. StarfleetCommander Morrow
is on his way for inspection."
McCoy shuddered, tried to rise, and fainted.
Kirk caught him before he hit the floor.
"Uhura! Get the medics down here!
Get them now!"
He held McCoy, feeling the doctor's
pulse race frantically, thready and weak.
"Bones, it's all right," he said. "It will be
all right."
But he wondered, Will it? What in heaven's name
is happening to us all?
The skeleton crew of the Enterprise assembled
in the docking chamber in preparation for Starfleet
Commander Morrow's review.
"Tetch-hut!"
The boatswain's pipe wailed eerily, the
doors slid open, and "fleet Commander Morrow
stepped on board, his aide close behind.
"Welcome aboard, Admiral."
Morrow grasped Kirk's shoulders.
"Welcome home, Jim," he said. He tightened
his hands. "Well done."
He embraced Kirk. The sincere affection between
them was of long standing. Morrow had been Kirk's first
commanding officer. He had sponsored him for his
The Search For Spock
captaincy, and again for his promotion to the general
staff.
"Thank you, sir," Kirk said, as Morrow
stepped back. To break the tension he said wryly,
"I take it this is not a formal inspection?"
A ripple of half-repressed laughter spread
through the small group.
"No. At ease, everyone." Morrow glanced
around. "Where's Dr. McCoy?"
Kirk hesitated. "Indisposed, sir."
"Ah," Morrow said, "too bad." Taking the
hint, he dropped the subject. "Well. You have
all done remarkable service under the most . . .
difficult . . . of conditions. You'll be receiving
Starfleet's highest commendations. And more
important extended shore leave."
The youngsters, particularly, reacted with pleased
surprise and anticipation.
"That is shore leave for everyone but you, Mr.
Scott. We need your wisdom on the new
Excelsior. Report there tomorrow as Captain of
Engineering."
"Tomorrow isna possible, Admiral," Scott
said, "And forbye, with all appreciation, sir, I'd
prefer to oversee the refitting of the Enterprise.
If it's all the same to ye, I'll come back
here."
"I don't think that's wise, Mr. Scott."
"But, sir, no one knows this ship like I do. The
refit will take a practiced hand. There's much to do
was He glanced at Kirk. "It could be months."
"That's one of the problems, Mr. Scott."
"Well, I might be able to do i" for ye a little
quicker his
"You simply don't know what you're asking."
"Then perhaps the admiral would be so kind as
to enlighten me."
STAR TREK ill
"I can cut you new orders to stay and oversee the
Enterprise was he said.
"I'd thank ye for that."
was but the orders would have to be for you to oversee the
ship's dismantling."
Jim Kirk felt the blood drain from his face.
He could hear exclamations of shock from the crew around
him.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Scott," Morrow said.
"There isn't going to be a refit."
"But ye canna do that!"
"Admiral, I don't understand," Kirk said.
"The Enterprise his
"Is twenty years old. Its day is over,
Jim." His sorrow was sincere, but he made no
pretence that the order was anything but final. "The ship
is obsolete. We kept it on as a training
vessel, mainly because you insisted. But after this last
trip . . . well, it's clear just by looking at the
ship that it's seen its last encounter."
"Ye've no e'en done an inspection!" Scott
cried. "Ye canna just look at a ship and condemn
it to the scrap heap! All ye need do is gi' me
the materiel I requisitioned his
"Your requisitions have been through a
thorough analysis. We gave the ship every point
we could I made sure of that. But it simply
isn't cost-effective to bring it back
to optimum."
""Cost-effective"!" Scott muttered
angrily. ""Optimum"! What d'ye his
"Scatty," Kirk said gently.
Scott opened his mouth, saw the look on
Kirk's face, closed his mouth, and resentfully
subsided.
"Scotty, go on over to Excelsior for the time
being his
"Nay!" Scott said. "Do ye no'
understand? It isna possible!"
"Indeed?" The frost in Morrow's single word low
The Search For Spock
ered the temperature ten degrees. He was not
used to having his orders questioned, much less directly
refused.
"My nephew Peter is still on board the
Enterprise," Scott said. "His body is.
I must take him home, to my sister. To his
grave."
The admiral relented. "I see. Of course,
you must go to Earth. But Mr. Scott, the
preliminary test of the engines is urgent. You're the
best man for the job. In a day or so his
"I canna promise. I willua. Some things
there be that are more important than starships, and one of
them is family, one of them is ties of blood."
He hurried from the docking bay.
Kirk turned to Morrow.
"Admiral, I requested I'd hoped to take
the Enterprise back to Genesis."
"Genesis!" Morrow exclaimed. "Whatever
for?"
"Why a natural desire to help
finish the work we began. Dr. Marcus is
certainly ghing to want to return his
"It's out of the question. No one else is going
to Genesis."
"May I ask why?"
Morrow sighed. "Jim . . . in your absence,
Genesis has become a galactic controversy.
Until the Federation Council makes policy, you
are all under orders not to discuss Genesis. Consider
it a quarantined planet . . . and a forbidden
subject."
Morrow's expression forbade argument in general,
and argument before the assembled ship's crew in
particular.
"Dismissed," Kirk said.
Sulu broke off from the rest of the crew of the
Enterprise before they reached the transporter room.
STAR TREK ill
He had no reason to return to Earth immediately, and
no desire whatever for shore leave. All he
wanted was to get back to Excelsior. He had
gone on the Enterpnse training cruise as a
favor, out of courtesy to James Kirk. He should
have been back on board his own ship days
ago.
""Captain Sulu," Morrow said.
Sulu turned back. "Yes, sir?"
"Where are you going?"
"To Excelswr, sir. I'm several days late
as it is."
"Would you come with us, instead, for the time being?"
Sulu hesitated, but Morrow had given him,
however subtly, a direct order if he had ever
heard one.
"If you please," Morrow said.
"Yes, sir." Sulu followed, trying to ward
off a deep feeling of apprehension.
Morrow did not speak to him again until they had
beamed back to Starfleet headquarters on Earth.
The Starfleet Commander bid good-bye to Kirk and the
others. Sulu waited for an
explanation. When everyone else had gone,
Morrow motioned to Sulu to accompany him. They
went into his office, and he closed the door.
"Please sit down, Captain," he said.
Sulu complied.
"I appreciate your patience," Morrow said.
"I have a delicate situation here that I hope you can
help me out with."
Sulu resisted the obvious invitation to offer to do
anything he could.
"How much do you know about Genesis?"
Morrow asked.
"I know who developed it, I know what it
does. I've seen it work." He knew a few of
its technical details, for though he had not seen
Carol Marcus' fabled
The Search For Spock
proposal tape, he hardly needed to. The
ship's grapevine had described it quite thoroughly.
"Do you know what its effect back here has
been?"
"No, sire'
"The uproar has been . . . well . . .
considerable. There's going to be a Federation inquiry,
and a summit meeting. I'm afraid I'm going to have
to ask everyone who was on board the Enterprise during
this recent . . . incident . . . to keep themselves
available to offer testimony. This will pose no
difficulties for the others. But in your case . . ."
Sulu saw where this was all heading. He rose in
protest.
"Please sit down, Captain,"
Morrow said.
"May I assume that the Admiral has already
rewritten my orders?" Sulu said stiffly. He
remained standing.
"Yes. I'm sorry."
"Permanently?"
"I sincerely hope not, Captain. In a few
months, when this has all blown over . . ."
Sulu held back his protest. He knew that it
would do no good, and furthermore that he could only
humiliate himself by making it.
"So many factors are involved," Morrow said.
"The ramifications of the Genesis incident
complicate matters beyond any of our
expectations. But above that, our investment in
Excelsior precludes our keeping it in its berth
indefinitely. The shakedown cruise must occur as
scheduled. Captain Styles will take over for you
while you're otherwise occupied."
"I see," Sulu said. Anger made his words
tight and hard, but he did not raise his voice.
He also did not say, What about afterwards? Do you
really expect me to believe that afterwards, after Styles
has had a chance to 117
STAR TREK In
command that ship, that he'll turn Excelsior over
to me without a protest?
All this was equally obvious to Morrow, who at
least had the good grace to look embarrassed.
"Captain, after all the turmoil has died down,
I promise you Starfleet will make this up to you.
Even if things don't turn out quite as we expect,
you'll find your cooperation well rewarded."
No ship existed, no ship was even planned, that
came close to Excelsior. Sulu feared that
once he lost it, he lost it forever. Being told that
something could make up for that was so
outrageous, so absurd, that Sulu nearly burst
out laughing.
"I will find that reward quite fascinating
to contemplate," Sulu said bitterly. "If the
Admiral will pardon me, I have absolutely
nothing to do."
Morrow frowned at him, not knowing how to interpret
what Sulu said.
Without waiting to be dismissed, Sulu turned and
strode from the lavishly appointed office.
Dan nan Stuart awakened at sunrise, in her
mother's house. The young starfleet pilot could smell
the newcut hay from the field beyond the horse
pasture. The bird that had been singing all night,
confused by the huge full moon, twittered
into silence. Dannan flung off the bedclothes and
wrapped herself in her silken. It clasped itself around
her.
The floor creaked beneath her bare feet. She
leaned on the sill of the small window and looked out
across the valley. The wall of the house was half a
meter thick, for Dannan's mother's house was five
hundred years old and more. Its massive walls
insulated the interior against the occasional summer heat
of northern Scotland, and against the continual damp
cold of winter. Today would be a perfect day, cool
and sharp, the sun 118
The Search For Spock
bright. A better day for saying hello than saying
good-bye.
The valley glowed with dawn. Dew lay thick
on every surface. Dannan could see a darker path
through the silvered grass, where her little brother's old
pony had made its way to the creek to drink.
Dannan remembered coming home
from school on vacation and looking out on mornings just
like this, to see young Peter riding Star bareback and
bridleless at a gallop across the field.
She remembered all the times she had been mean and
impatient, when the prospect of taking care of a
pesky child had been too much to bear. Often she had
been too busy to pay him much heed. She had been
so eager to go off drinking and carousing with her friends that she
had pushed Peter aside. All he had ever
wanted, since he was old enough to understand what Dannan
planned for her life, all he had ever wanted from
her was to hear her tell her stories.
Poor kid, she thought, poor brother. We did
have some fun, in the last few years, but I regret
all the times I closed you out and went my own way.
I hope you found it in your heart to forgive me.
She whistled from the window. A few minutes later
Star trotted slowly over the crest of the hill. He
was old and stiff, and he had been retired since
Peter went away to school. The bay pony's
black muzzle was speckled with white.
Dannan climbed down the steep, twisty stairs
to the main floor of the house, grabbed a carrot and a
piece of bread from the kitchen, and ran through the back
yard to the pasture fence. The dew was cold on her
feet, but the water beaded up on the silken. The
motion of her running spun the droplets sparkling
into the sunlight.
Star whickered at her and reached his head over the
fence for the treats she brought. He nipped up the
bread with his soft, mobile lips and crunched the
carrot
STAR TREK In
in two bites. Dannan rubbed his cheek, then
traced the unusual five-pointed marking of white
on his forehead.
When Peter came home and whistled, Star whinnied
like a colt and galloped to him, age and arthritis
forgotten.
"Poor old boy," Dannan said. "You're
lucky, you never have to understand he isn't coming back.
Maybe you'll even forget him."
She gave the pony one last pat and trudged
back across the wet grass. The house peered at her
from beneath eyebrows of thick willow thatch, where the edge
of the roof had been trimmed in graceful curves
to leave the upstairs windows open to the light.
In the kitchen she made a pot of coffee and put
the morning's bread in to bake, though she did not
feel very hungry. She had not, since hearing the
news of Peter's death on board the Enterpnse.
The kitchen led into her mother's studio.
Dannan could smell the heavy odor of wet clay
and the sharper electric tang of ozone from the kiln.
Dannan rubbed her fingers around the fluid shape of the
mug from which she drank her coffee. Her mother sent her
sculptures and commissions into the city to be fired in
her cooperative's radioactive kiln. The
radiation interacted with the glazes she used, producing
an unusual depth and patina. But the things she
threw for use around the house, she fired in the
traditional way in her studio.
She had spent all day, and most of the night, in the
studio. Dannan had left her alone. It was her
mother's way, in bad times, to close herself off with her
work. Dannan would have liked to talk about what had
happened and about Peter, but she knew her mother would not
be able to do that for some while yet.
Dannan heard a brief, shivery sound from the
street outside, a sound she knew well but
seldom heard in her
The Search For Spock
mother's house. Dannan preferred travelinghere
by more ordinary means, by train or ground car. The time
gave her a chance to make the
transition from high tech to countryside.
Beaming in, besides being too expensive to use very often
for personal business, was terribly abrupt.
But the sound of a transporter beam was
unrnistakable. The loud knock at the front door
confirmed her assumption.
She hurried into the hallway and opened the door just
as her uncle, Montgomery Scott of
Starfieet, raised his hand to rap insistently again.
"Hush, uncle," she said. "Mother's asleep
don't you know what time it is?"
"Nay," Uncle Montgomery said. "I dinna
think to look."
"It's just past dawn." Even thirty years on
a starship should not have taken his ability to glance at the
height of the sun and realize it was early; but, then,
even thirty years on a starship had not changed his
indifference to the subtler niceties of social
interaction.
Montgomery stood on the doorstep just off the
deserted cobbled street. One of the things Dannan
loved about this house was that its front door led
directly into the village and its back into the
countryside. She had grown up here, she was used
to it, but friends she had brought home from school for a
visit, when she was in the Academy, never
failed to find it surprising.
"Well?" said Uncle Montgomery. "Are ye
going to let me in or are ye going to stand in the street
all day in thy skiwies?"
"Don't insult my clothing," Dannan said.
"It's sensitive to discourtesy."
"I knew I should ha' beamed straight in," he
muttered.
STAR TREK lll
Dannan stood aside to let him pass. Even
Uncle Montgomery had better manners than
to beam directly into a private home, whether it
belonged to his sister or not.
He tramped to the kitchen and looked at the
coffeepot with distaste.
"Is there no tea?"
"You know where it is as well as I do," Dannan
said. She sat down and hooked her bare feet over
a rung of the chair.
"I'm in no mood for shine impertinence, young
lady," he said.
"We're not on Starfleet ground now," she said.
She resisted pointing out that even when they were on
Starfleet ground, she was only one grade
in rank beneath him and thus rated being treated as a
colleague rather than as a subordinate. "We're
both guests in mother's house, and I think we should
call a truce."
He shrugged and sat down without getting himself any
tea. He fidgeted in silence for some minutes.
"When is the funeral?" he finally asked.
"Ten o'clock," Dannan said.
He lapsed again into silence. Dannan could not think
of any subject to bring up that would not cause one or
the other or both of them pain. They had never got
along very well. He had opposed her joining
Starfleet, saying she was too spoiled and
undisciplined ever to succeed. When she did succeed,
he never acknowledged it. He never said a word
to indicate that he had been wrong. Dannan
assumed he was still waiting for her to fail.
The message system chimed softly and the reception
light turned on. Grateful for the diversion,
Dannan rose to check it.
The message was addressed to her. This surprised
The Search For Spock
her. No one but Hunter, her commanding of ricer,
knew where she had gone. She turned it
on.
Dannan immediately recognised the image that formed
before her. Peter had described
Lieutenant Saavik in his letters more than once.
She was just as beautiful as he had said. She had great
presence; she gave the impression of strength,
intelligence, and depth. Dannan began to understand why
Peter had spent so much time talking about her when he
wrote.
"Please forgive me for intruding upon your
privacy," the young Vulcan said. "My name is
Saavik. I cannot convey my message in person,
as I am unable to accompany the Enterprise
to Earth. I knew your brother, Peter Preston.
He spoke of you often, with admiration and with love.
He was my student in mathematics. He was quick and
diligent and he found great satisfaction in the
beauty of the subject." The image of Saavik
hesitated. "Though I was the teacher, he taught me
many things. The most important lesson was that of
friendship, which I had never experienced before I met your
brother. I may discover other friends, but I will cherish
the memory of Peter always. I would not have been able
to speak of these feelings had I never met him; that is
one of the things he taught me. He was a
sweet child, a wholly admirable person, and he
saved many lives with his sacrifice. This is perhaps as
little comfort to you as tilde it is to me, but it is
true." Saavik paused, collecting herself,
Dannan thought, fighting to keep her emotions hidden,
as her culture demanded. "I hope that someday we
may meet, and speak of him to each other.
Farewell."
The image on the tape faded out. Dannan
removed the message disk and slid it inside her
silken, which obediently formed a pocket for it.
Dannan returned to the kitchen. 123
STAR TREK Ill
"What was that?"
"Just a message," Dannan said, trying to keep
her voice steady. "Uncle, what happened?" When
she asked the question, her voice did break.
"I canna tell ye," he said. ""Tis all
top secret."
"But everybody already knows about Genesis,"
Dannan said. "Trust Starfleet to put something
everybody already knows under seal! But I don't care
about that. I just want to know what happened to Peter!"
"I'll not have you maligning Starfleet his
"What was he doing on the Enterprise,
anyway? Why was he under your command?"
"Because ye wouldna take him under yours!"
"I'm his sister! It wasn't proper for either one
of us to train him!"
"Proper! Who says it isna proper? I'll
not be accused of favoritism by an impudent his
"Favoritism!" She laughed angrily.
"I'll bet you demanded three times as much from Peter
as you did from anyone else! Favoritism! Others
might accuse you of that, but your family knows
better!"
"'Tis for the family that I arranged to teach him!
I didna want him to be ill-taught his
"Is that why you won't tell me what happened?
Did you push him beyond his abilities? Did you put
him where he shouldn't have been?"
"None o" the bairns should ha' been where they
were," he said so sadly that Dannan felt a
twinge of pity through her grief. "They were all pushed
beyond their abilities."
"By Admiral James Kirk," Dannan said
bitterly, softly. "Admiral Kirk, who his
"I willna tolerate slander!"
"I'm not saying anything everybody else hasn't
been saying for days," Dannan said. "The
last two times he
The Search For Spock
got his hands on the Enterprise, the captains
died. First Decker, now Spock. If I had
command of a ship I wouldn't let him within a light-year
of it!"
"Ye dinna know anything about the situations! And
ye'll never get wi'in a light-year of command if
any friend o' the admiral hears ye speaking like that!"
"Or if you have anything to say about it?"
was "Twillna take a report from me for thy
superiors to see ye are too hotheaded for command."
What happened to the truce? Dannan thought.
Did I start this? I didn't intend to, if I
did.
"All I wanted to know was what really
happened to my brother," she said.
Uncle Montgomery stood up, stalked out into the
yard, and would not speak to her again.
Later that morning, Dannan endured the
memorial for Peter. She barely listened to it.
Today was the first time in years that she had been in a
church. She sat next to her mother, holding her hand.
The pastor described Peter as an
obedient and dutiful little boy a boring creature, not
very similar to what he had been as a child, and nothing at
all like the sharp and independent young man he had been
well on his way to
becoming. Dannan wanted to jump up and push the
clergyman aside and read everyone her last letter from
Peter, written just before he died, received after she
knew he had been killed. She smiled, thinking of the
practical joke he had played on Admiral
Kirk. That took nerve, it did, to face down a
general of ficer.
The last line in his letter was, "Lieutenant
Saavik says we are friends. I'm glad. I
think you would like her, Love, Peter."
She thought he was right. She hoped she had a chance
to meet Saavik someday, face to face.
STAR TREK 111
The eulogy ended. Everyone rose and filed out to the
churchyard. The raw pit of Peter's grave gaped
open in the hard, cold autumn ground. A few
dead leaves scattered past, rustling against
Dannan's boots. They came from the oak grove
that encircled the top of the low hill behind the church. The
grove was sacred, or haunted, or
cursed, depending on whom one asked about it.
Dannan remembered winter nights long ago in
front of the fireplace, and summer nights around a
campfire, telling deliciously scary stories
about the creatures and spirits who lived among and within the
trees.
In the oak grove, a dark shape moved.
Dannan started.
It was nothing. Just the wind, shaking a young tree (but
there were no young trees in the grove, only ancient
ones that did not quiver in the wind), or a
dust-devil (but weather like today's never produced
dust-devils). Who would hide up in the grove?
Who would come to a funeral and fear to attend it? Who
would prefer the solitary
strangeness of the grove to the company of friends?
At the side of the grave, Dannan's mother bent
down, picked up a handful of the cold, stony earth,
and scattered it gently onto the coffin of her youngest
child. Dannan followed, but she clenched her hand around
the dirt until the sharp stones cut into her hand. She
flung it violently into the grave. The rocks
clattered hollowly on the polished wood. The other
mourners looked up, startled by her lack of
propriety.
She did not give a good god's damn for
propriety. She wanted to bring her brother
back, or she wanted to take revenge on the
renegade who had killed him, or she wanted
to punch out her uncle's lights. These were all things
she could not do.
The Search For Spock
Tears flowing freely, Uncle Montgomery
scooped up a handful of dirt and dropped it
into Peter's grave. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
. . ."
.
"To fully understand the events on which I report,"
James T. Kirk said, "it is necessary to review the
theoretical data on the Genesis device."
Kruge leaned back in the command chair, contentedly
rubbing Warrigul's ears as he contemplated his
prize. The image of Admiral James Kirk
dissolved into the simulated
demonstration of the Genesis device.
The translator changed the words from the standard
language of the Federation of Planets into Kruge's
dialect of the high tongue of the Klingon Empire.
"Genesis is a procedure by which the
molecular structure of matter is broken down,
not into subatomic parts as in nuclear fission, or
even into elementary particles, but into subelementary
particle-waves."
The torpedo arced through space and landed on the
surface of a barren world. The rocky surface
exploded into inferno. The planet quivered, then, just
perceptibly, it expanded. For an instant it glowed
as intensely as a star. The fire died, leaving the
dead stone transformed into water and air and fertile
soil.
Kruge casually transferred his attention to his
officers, Maltz and Torg. A few minutes
before, alone in his cabin, he had watched the recording
that Valkris sacrificed her life to acquire.
Now, playing it again for his two subordinates, he
was more interested in observing their reaction to the
presentation.
"The results are completely under our control.
In this simulation, a barren rock becomes a world with
water, atmosphere, and a functioning ecosystem
capable of sustaining most known forms of carbon-based
life."
Torg watched intently, all his attention on the
screen.
STAR TREK 111
The young officer was in a state of high
excitement, indifferent to any potential danger.
Maltz gazed at the screen with wonder and
admiration.
The human narrating the tape thanked her
listeners. Kruge smiled to himself at that, wondering
what she would say to this audience. He made the tape
pause.
"So!" he said. He looked at Torg.
"Speak!"
"Great power!" Torg said eagerly. "To control,
to dominate, to destroy." He scowled. "If it
works."
Kruge made no response. He scratched
Warrigul beneath the scaly jaw. The creature
pressed up against his leg, whining, sensing the tension and
excitement.
Kruge turned his ominous gaze on Maltz.
"Speak!"
"Impressive," Maltz said thoughtfully. "They
can make planets. Possibilities are endless.
Colonies, resources his
"Yes," Kruge said gently. He
noticed with satisfaction Maltz's chagrin at his
tone, and his surprise. "New cities, homes in
the country, your mate at your side, children playing at
your feet . . ." As Kruge's voice grew more
and more
sarcastic, Maltz's expression changed from one
of satisfaction to one of apprehension. "dis . . And
overhead, fluttering in the breeze the flag of the
Federation of Planets!" He fairly growled the
last few words, and Warrigul snarled in support.
"Oh, charming!" Kruge said. He sneered at
Maltz. "Station!"
"Yes, my lord," Maltz said quickly, knowing
better than to try to defend himself when he had so
completely lost his ground. He hurried to his post
and made himself very inconspicuous.
Kruge regarded Torg. "It works. Oh,
yes, it works." He touched the controls of the player
to let the tape continue.
"It was this premature detonation of the Genesis
The Search For Spock
device that resulted in the creation of the Genesis
planet." On the screen, a constellation-class
Federation starship fled the expanding wave that
turned the dust and gases of a nebula into a mass of
energy and subelementary particles, thence into a blue
new world.
Kruge turned off the machine, removed the
information insert, and slipped it beneath his belt.
"Tell this to no one," he said to Torg. He
glanced significantly across the control room at
Maltz.
"Understood, my lord."
"We are going to this planet," Kruge said.
"Even as our emissaries negotiate for peace with the
Federation, we will act for the preservation of our people. We
will seize the secret of this
weapon the secret of ultimate power!"
Torg nodded, nearly overwhelmed by the
magnitude of what he had seen. "Success,"
he whispered. "Success, my lord."
"Station!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Torg returned to his position. At
Kruge's side, Warrigul whined and slavered,
reacting to the emotions of its master. Kruge
dropped to one knee to soothe the creature.
"My lord," said the helm officer, speaking
carefully in the tongue of subordinates.
"We are approaching Federation territory."
"Steady on course," Kruge snapped, easing
his impatient first stratum with a second stratum of
approval. "Engage cloaking device."
"Cloaking device engaged."
From within the ship, it was a most odd and satisfying
sensation. The ship and all its contents and all its
occupants became slightly transparent.
Voices grew hollow, like echoes.
Warrigul howled in protest. Lower
subordinates
STAR TREK In
shuddered at the keening cry, knowing that the doaking
device put the creature's temper on a thin
edge. It had a similar effect on people. Once in
a while it would, without warning, drive someone mad.
But this time everyone survived the transition sane.
Kruge smiled and
stroked tilde his beast, satisfied in the knowledge that
outside the cloaking field, his ship was completely
invisible.
Chapter 6
Saavik stepped onto the transporter
platfomm beside David.
"Transporter room," Captain Esteban said
through the intercom. "Stand by to energise."
"Transporter room standing by."
"Energize. his
The beam caught Saavik up and dissolved her.
A moment later it reassembled her, atom by atom,
on the surface of the world David had helped
to create.
From her point of view, the world solidified around
her. She had no real sensation of being tom asunder and
put back together. Throughout the entire process she
could feel sensations from her body, feel the weight
of the backpack on her shoulders, hear and see and
think.
The Genesis world lay wreathed in silver haze.
Great primordial fern-trees reached into the air
then drooped down again with the weight of their own leaves.
The
STAR TREK Ill
fronds had captured miniature pools of
glittering rainwater.
David appeared beside her and looked around with
wonder.
"It really is something, isn't it?" he said.
"It is indeed," Saavik said. She took her
tricorder from her belt and turned it on. David
did likewise. The bio readings were what she had
expected, similar to the long-range scans. The
animate life signals matched nothing she had ever
seen before, but they definitely existed.
David set off through the forest as Saavik
switched the emphasis on her tricorder and
scanned again. She raised one eyebrow in
astonishment.
"This is most odd, David," she said.
He glanced impatiently back.
She frowned and took out her communicator.
"Saavik to Grissom."
"Grissom here."
"Request computer study of soil samples for
geological aging."
"I'll handle that later," David said.
Saavik wondered why his voice was so sharp and
tense. She, too, was anxious to proceed, but not to the
point of recklessness.
"My readings indicate great instability."
"We're not here to investigate geological
aging, we're here to find life forms!" He
scanned around with his tricorder. The signals
changed and strengthened. "Come on!" He hurried off
between the trees.
Saavik felt an intense uneasiness, but she
followed David.
"Grissom to landing party." Even through the
communicator, Saavik could hear the worry in
Captain Esteban's voice. "We show you
approaching indications of radioactivity. Do you
concur?"
The Search For Spock
"Affirmative, Captain. But our readings are
well below the danger level."
"Very well. Exercise caution, Lieutenant.
This landing is 'captain's discretion." I'm the one
who's out on a limb here."
Saavik stood in the midst of a profoundly
unknown world and replied, straight-faced, "I will
try to remember that, Captain."
She strode after David, who had hurried
several hundred meters ahead of her. He paused
to take readings, and she caught up to him. Her
tricorder showed strange and fluctuating
life-signs. She flipped the setting
quickly from bio to geo and tilde got the same
disturbing readings of
instability. At the very least this area would be prone
to severe earthquakes.
Reluctantly Saavik changed the sensor again.
The metallic mass she had detected from on
board Grissom lay very near. She glanced in the
direction of the reading. Before her the trees thinned out
into a blaze of sun. The air was very warm and very
humid. Saavik could not see beyond the sun's
dazzle in the steamy haze.
She walked toward the source of the readings. Before
her, just out of sight, lay a casket that held the
body of her teacher. She did not need to see it to be
certain he was dead. Because now, she was certain. Her
speculations in response to the life-sign readings-
had been fantasies, dreams, wishes. She felt
nothing of the neural touch that had disturbed her so
deeply back on the
Enterprise. If Spock were nearby, if by some
incredible action of the Genesis wave, or some
unsuspected ability of the Vulcan-human
cross, he had returned, Saavik would perceive
him. Of that she felt quite sure.
David pushed his way through the thick
fronds of the fern-trees and into the glade beyond. The
sunlight burst upon him and he stood still, blinking.
SlAR TREK ill
Saavik moved more slowly out of the green shade,
giving her eyes the few seconds they needed
to adapt.
"It is Spock's tube!" David said. He
squinted at it, trying to screen out the light.
"David . . ." She pointed to the base of the
tube.
A mass of pale, moist worms writhed and
wriggled in the shadow of the casket. A few fell from
the cluster into the sunlight and frantically burrowed
into the dark loam.
His eyes now accustomed to the brightness, David
saw what she was pointing at. He took one step
toward the slimy creatures and stopped. A muscle
along the side of his jaw tightened, and he swallowed
hard.
- "Well," he said bitterly. "There's our
life-form read
ing. It must have been microbes, caught on the
surface
of the tube. We shot them here from the
Enterprise. was His voice was tinged with irony and
disappointment. "They were fruitful, and multiplied."
He looked around the otherwise peaceful glade.
"Probably contaminated the whole planet."
Saavik could think of several other explanations
for the presence of the worms, but as the casket appeared
still to be sealed, she hoped David's explanation was
correct.
"But how could they have changed so quickly . . . his
Did you program accelerated evolution
into-Genesis?" Perhaps the creatures were far more
complicated than they appeared at first glance. She
focussed her tricorder on them, but could not
reproduce the reading that had brought her here;
David approached the torpedo tube. His
tricorder bleated and clicked, registering the
increased radiation flux and confirming the torpedo
tube as the source. Nevertheless, the level was well
below the danger point.
David grimaced, then forged ahead, kicking his
way
The Search For Spock
through the worms. Saavik followed until she
realized what he intended to do. She
stopped, unwilling to see again the-terrible burns on
Spock's sculpted face, preferring not to consider
the effects of climate.
She started despite herself when David slowly
raised the lid of the bier. He stared down into the
casket.
"Saavik . . ."
Pushing a path through the worms with her boots,
Saavik Joined him.
"dis . . He's gone," David said. He reached
into the empty coffin and drew out the black shroud.
"What is it?" he asked.
She took the silvery, silky piece of heavy
black fabric from his hands.
"It is Spock's burial robe," she said,
her voice even, but her thoughts in disarray.
Saavik heard a low, threatening rumble. The
ground shook gently beneath her feet. Merely a
temblor, not a true quake, but a precursor
to and a promise of events more violent.
As the quivering of the earth faded away, a frightened
cry echoed through the forest. A mammal? A
predatory bird? A creature unique to this world?
David spun toward the sound, that lonely shriek of
pain, then, when the echoes had faded and the
cry came no more, he looked back at Saavik.
She felt sure he was thinking, as was she No
highly evolved microbe screamed that scream.
Dannan fidgeted on the sofa in the living
room. It was early evening, and beginning to grow dark
outside. The day seemed to have stretched on forever.
- Uncle Montgomery sat on the other side
of the room, in silence and in shadows.
Dannan's mother had vanished back into her
studio. Everyone in the family knew better than
to disturb her 135
STAR TREK 111
when the door was closed. That was one of the things
Peter's father had never been able to get through his head;
it was the final bit of selfishness Dannan's mother
could not tolerate. Dannan returned from school
once to find, rather to her relief, that the elder
Preston had packed up his things and departed,
muttering about eccentric artists and heading for he said a
Federation colony, on the first available ship.
Dannan had smiled to hear that, for if he thought an
artist who did not like to be interrupted when she was working
was eccentric, wait until he met the people who
shipped out to colonies. He had not been a bad
person, just a self-involved one who should
perhaps never have tried to join a family. Dannan
wondered if anyone knew where he was, to let him
know about Peter.
Dannan rose, crossed the living room, and
took in one stride the three steps up to the foyer.
She slipped into her boots and went out the front
door, into the village. She made her way down the
steep cobbled street to the river's edge, thence through the
town and back to the churchyard, the cemetery, and the old
oak grove.
The evening was extraordinary. In the west, the sun
lined the horizon from below in a thick ochre gold.
The color shaded upward into a soft, intense, and
glowing mauve. Dannan could not describe the sky
in terms of clear spectral colors, only in
mixes and delicate hues. What color did one
name the region where the sky shaded from predominantly
gold to predominantly violet? She could not
answer. In the east, the enormous blood-red
harvest moon began to glide above the horizon. The
just-set sun and the just-risen full moon combined
to create a lavender twilight.
Tonight was the autumn equinox. Dannan spent
most of her life on starships, where every day was the
same 136
The Search For Spock
length and one counted one's time by the
artificial measurement of star dates. When she
came home, to a place where seasons still mattered and
time was more subjective, she experienced the days and
nights and dawns and evenings, the colors and sounds and
scents, as a brand new discovery.
Twilight remained when she reached the
graveyard, though the livid gold horizon had
faded and the sky had changed from lavender to deep
blue. Stars glinted here and there, bright and steady in the
cold, still air. They were never as clear as they were in
space. She was glad Peter had at least had a
chance to see them from above the atmosphere.
Dannan sat on her heels by Peter's
grave. Beneath the flowers that lay thick and fragrant
upon it, the raw earth smelled of rocks and ripped
turf. She could make out his name, and the summation of the
short years of his life, carved into grey granite.
He lay among ten previous generations of his
family, the first of his generation to die. Because of the
family's tradition of taking the name of one's parent
of the same gender, her brother was the only Preston
among many Scotts, more Stuarts, a scatter of
MacLaughlins, and one Ishimoto, a
great-uncle Dannan remembered with great
fondness.
She wished she had some memento of space to leave
on Peter's grave, some alien bloom to put down
to remind everyone that he had dreamed of and sought after and
loved the stars.
As the moon rose higher, Dannan saw a hard
glint among the flowers littering Peter's grave.
She reached between the soft petals and picked up the
bit of gold. It was a medal, the star of valor, with
ruby. She wondered for an instant if it were
Peter's, if her mother or her uncle had put it
here, but in the same instant she recognised it as the
wrong form for a posthumous
STAR TREK lll
medal. It was not engraved with name or place, so it
had not yet been formally presented. It had to belong
to one of Peter's classmates.
A sound broke the silence that lay easily over
the graveyard.
At first Dannan identified the noise as a
dog, a lost puppy. She stood up and waited
to hear it again.
It came from the oak grove.
Dannan strode toward the trees. Fallen
leaves crunched beneath her boots. All the scary
childhood stories about ghosts and changelings passed
through her mind, though she knew the sound came from someone
who was merely flesh and blood.
Besides, she thought, I'm a Starfleet officer,
remember? With citations for bravery of my own.
Big deal.
She heard the sound again a sob.
"Come on out," she said.
The usual silence of the grove was one of calm.
This was the breathless quiet of concealment and
apprehension.
"Come on," Dannan said. "It's cold out
here."
The young man scuffed out of the trees, the red coat
of his uniform black in the moonlight. He stopped
before her, hanging his head.
"Who are you?"
"One of Peter's shipmates."
He was several years older than Peter; he must
have been a third or fourth year student, while
Peter was only first.
"Is this your medal?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He still did not look up.
"I thought Peter deserved it more than I did."
The Search For Spock
"Because he's dead and you're alive?" Dannan was
about to tell him how brutally often the difference came
down to nothing but chance.
"No!" he said before she could continue. "No!"
He hung his head lower, if that were possible. His
voice was muffled and reluctant. "Because he stayed
. . . and I ran."
Dannan stepped toward him with a flare of shock and
surprise and anger. She wanted, quite simply,
to kill him. She was perfectly capable of doing it with
her bare hands.
But then the boy did-raise his head, as if baring
his throat to accept her revenge. He made no
move to defend himself. The utter defeat was all that
saved him.
She understood why he had lurked in the grove
during the funeral, and why he had not shown himself. She
did not understand why he was still here.
"Get out of here," she said. "Why don't you just go
home?"
His shoulders slumped. "I can't," he said.
"I'm AWOL, for one thing . . . and I used up
all my money getting here. I don't know how
to get back."
"That shows great foresight," Dannan said. "Is
that what they teach you at the Academy these days?"
She sighed. "You'd better come with me."
Dannan took Grenni back to her mother's
house, wondering what the devil to do with him.
Uncle Montgomery had not moved from his place
in the corner when Dannan returned, and the door to the
pottery studio still was closed.
"I believe you know this gentleman," Dannan
said sarcastically to her uncle as Grenni followed
her into the living room. "He came . . . for
Peter's funeral."
Uncle Montgomery greeted Grenni with every
indication of pleasure and gratitude for his presence.
STAR TREK 111
""Tis good o" ye to come pay thy respects
to our bairn his
"Stop it!" Grenni cried. "Why do you keep
being so nice to me? You know where my station
was you must know Pres is dead because of
me!"
Scott stared at him.
"You know he was the only one in our section who
held his post! I was cadet commander, I should have
ordered him out of danger!"
"He'd no' ha' gone," Scott said.
"Then neither should I. his
"Perhaps not," Scott said. "Then we would have two
funerals to attend today, instead o' one." He rose
and approached the boy, took him by the shoulders, and
looked him in the eye. "Dinna get me wrong,
boy. Ye did a cowardly thing. Now ye must
decide if ye are fit for the career ye've chosen.
If this is thy character his
"It isn't!" Grenni said. "I don't know
what happened I don't understand why it happened. I
never did anything like that before in my life!"
Montgomery Scott nodded. "Ye hadna been
properly prepared for what we faced. "Tis at
least as much my fault."
"Are you saying you forgive me?"
"Aye."
Grenni looked at Dannan. "Do you forgive
me too, Commander?"
"Not bloody likely," Dannan said.
Her uncle and the cadet both looked at her,
shocked.
"Dannan was her uncle said, raising his voice
in protest.
"But I'm sorry!" Grenni cried. "I
didn't mean it! If I could make it up his
"Make it up? Make up for the death of my
brother?" Her voice was cold with contempt. "I
don't think so."
The Search For Spock
"I know there's nothing I can do, that's what makes
it so awful his
"Ye dinna want to be vengeful, Dannan,"
her uncle said.
"No," she said, surprised to find that vengeance was
not what she wanted. "You're right, uncle. But so
are you, cadet. There's nothing you can do...."
Uncle Montgomery stood up angrily.
"Ye
always were a cold-hearted little his
"dis . . and that's what makes it so hard,"
Dannan said.
Her uncle put his arm over the boy's shoulders.
"Come along, cadet. 'Tis time to go
home." He sent one quick glare at Dannan.
"Tell thy mother farewell, I canna wait any
longer for her to come out."
He and Grenni left the house. A moment later
Dannan heard the electric sparkle of a
transporter beam. The window next to the front
door glowed briefly, and then turned dark again.
Jim Kirk stared out the window of his
apartment at the night and at the bridges on the
bay, lines of light leading out of and into an infinity of
fog. Reflections overlaid the distant city.
Jim turned to them and raised his glass.
"To absent friends," he said.
Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu raised their
glasses in response. They all drank.
"Admiral, is it certain?" Hikaru said.
"What's going to happen to the Enterprise 7"
"Yes," he said. "It's to be decommissioned."
"Will we get another ship?" Pavel said.
We? Jim thought. Is there a "we" anymore?
The ship to be dismantled" the crew dispersed,
McCoy in shock and doped to the gills, and . . .
Spock dead.
STAR TREK lll
"I can't get an answer," he said.
"Starfleet is up to its brass in galactic
conference. No one has time for those who only stand . .
. and wait."
"How is Dr. McCoy, sir?" Uhura said.
"That's the "good" news," Jim said dryly.
"He's home in bed, full of tranquilizers.
He promised me he'd stay there. They say it's
exhaustion." He sighed. "We'll see."
His doorbell chimed.
"Ah," Jim said. "It must be Mr. Scott,
fresh from the world of kanswarp drive. Come!"
The door responded to his voice and whirred
open.
Expecting Scott, Jim started at the sight
of a much taller figure standing cloaked and hooded in
a Vulcan robe, half hidden by the shadows in his
foyer. Jim felt panic brush against him, bringing
the fear of madness. He thought for an instant that, like
Leonard McCoy, he was beginning to perceive the ghost
of Spock in every patch of darkness, in dreams and
wakefulness alike.
The figure reached up and drew back its hood.
"Sarek!" Jim exclaimed.
Ambassador Sarek strode into the
light. He looked as he did the first time Jim had
met him, well over a decade before. He had not
aged in that time. He would by now, Jim reflected, be
nearly one hundred twenty years old. He
looked like a vigorous man of middle age, which, of
course, was precisely what he was. But a
Vulcan of middle age, not a human being. He
had many years left to look forward to, just as
Spock, his son, should have had over a century.
"Ambassador," Jim said, feeling flustered,
"I I had no idea you were on Earth . . ." His
words trailed off. Sarek said nothing. "You know my
officers, I believe," Kirk said.
Sarek showed no inclination to acknowledge the
The Search For Spock
others. He moved to the window and stared out, his back
to the room.
"I will speak with you alone, Kirk," he said.
Kirk turned toward his friends. They regarded him
with questioning expressions, each clearly uneasy about
leaving him alone in Sarek's intimidating presence.
"Uhura, Pavel, Hikaru perhaps we'd better
get together again another evening." Kirk put into his
tone a confidence of which he was far from certain.
With a gesture he silenced Pavel's hotheaded
objec tion before it started; he shook Hikaru's hand,
appreciating his equanimity, and he returned
Uhura's embrace as he showed his three
compatriots to the door.
"We're here," she said, "when you need us."
"I know," he said. "And I'm grateful."
He let them out, watched the door close behind
them, and turned back to Sarek with considerable
apprehension.
Sarek remained at the window, silhouetted
black against black. Kirk approached him. He
stopped a pace behind him, and the silence stretched on.
"How . . . is Amanda, sir?" Kirk asked.
- "She is a human being, Kirk.
Consequently, she is in mourning for our son. She
is on Vulcan."
"Sarek, I'm bound here to testify, or I would
have come to Vulcan, to express my deepest
sympathies. To her, and to you his
Sarek cut off Kirk's explanation and his
sympathy with a peremptory gesture. "Spare me
your platitudes, Kirk. I have been to your
government. I have seen the Genesis information, and your
own report."
"Then you know how bravely your son met his
death."
""Met his death"?" Sarek faced Kirk, and the
cold expressionlessness of his eyes was more powerful than
STAR TREK 111
any gAefor fury. "How could you, who claim
to be his fAend, assume that? Why did you not bang
him back to Vulcan?"
"Because he asked me not to!" Kirk said, rising
to the provocation.
"He asked you not to? I find that unlikely in
the extreme."
Sarek stopped just short of calling Kirk a
liar, which did not serve to improve the admiral's
temper.
, "His will states quite clearly that he did not
wish to be resumed to Vulcan, should he die in the
service of Starfleet. You can view it I'll even
give you his sepal number."
"I am aware of his sepal number," Sarek said
with contempt. "I am also aware that Starfleet
regulations specifically require that any
Vulcan's body be resumed to the home world.
Surely this would override the dictates
of a will."
"The trivial personal wishes of an
individual?" Kirk did not give Sarek a chance
to reply to his barb. "I'll tell you why I
followed Spock's request rather than the rules of
Starfleet," he said bitterly. "It's because in all
the years I knew Spock, never once did you or
any Vulcan treat him with the respect and the regard
that he deserved. You never even treated him with the
simple courtesy one sentient being owes another.
He spent his life living up to Vulcan ideals and
he came a whole hell of a lot closer to succeeding
than a lot of Vulcans I've met. But he
made one choice of his own Starfleet instead of the
Vulcan
Academy and you cut him off!"
He stopped to catch his breath.
"My son and I resolved our disagreement on that
subject many years ago, Kirk," Sarek said
mildly.
Kirk ignored the overture. "For nearly
twenty years I watched him endure the slights and the
subtle bigotry 144
The Search For Spock
of Vulcans! When he died, I was
damned if I would take him back to Vulcan and
give him over to you so you could put him in the ground and
wash your hands of him! He deserved a hero's
burial and that's what I gave him the fires of
space!" He stopped, his anger burned to ashes,
yet he thought, And I can think of a few dogs I
would have liked to put at his feet.
Sarek behaved as if Kirk's outburst had never
occurred, as if he believed that by refusing
to acknowledge it, he caused it not to exist.
"Why did you leave him behind? Spock trusted you.
You denied him his future."
Jim felt entirely off balance and defensive.
He had no idea what Sarek was talking about. If
Kirk had hoped to accomplish anything by exposing
to Sarek the anger he had built up over the years,
he had failed, miserably, spectacularly,
completely.
"I I saw no future!"
"You missed the point, then and now. Only his
body was in death, Kirk. And you were the last one to be
with him."
"Yes, I was. . ." My gods, Jim
thought, is Sarek trying to tell me that if I had
behaved
differently Spock might still be alive?
"Then you must have known that you should have come with him back
to Vulcan."
"But why?"
"Because he asked you to! He entrusted you with . .
. with his very essence, with everything that was not of his body.
He asked you to bring him to us, and to bring that which he
gave you, his katra, his living spirit."
Sarek spoke with intensity and urgency that served
merely to disguise, not to hide, his deep pain and his
loss. Jim had received the response he intended
to provoke. He wished he had been gentler.
STAR TREK 111
"Sir," he said quietly, "your son meant more
to me than you can know. I'd have given my life if it
would have saved his. You must believe me when I
tell you he made no request of me." If there was
a chance for him to live, Kirk cried out in his mind,
why didn't Spock ask me for help?
"He would not have spoken of it openly."
"Then, how his
Sarek cut him off. "Kirk, I must have your
thoughts."
Jim frowned.
"May I join your mind, Kirk?"
Jim hesitated, for the Vulcan mind-meld was not
the most pleasant of experiences. The human
perception was trivial, Vulcans claimed, compared
to the discomfort Vulcans underwent in order to mingle their
refined psyches with the disorganised thought processes
of human beings. It was clear, however, that Sarek
needed information that Jim did not possess in his own
conscious mind. Acceding to the mind-meld was the one thing
Jim could do, perhaps the only thing, that might give
Sarek some peace.
"Of course," he said.
Sarek approached him and placed his hands on
Jim's face, the long forefingers probing at his
temples. His gaze never met Kirk's. He
seemed to be looking straight through him. Kirk
closed his eyes, but Sarek's image remained.
The sensation was as if Sarek's slender, powerful
hands reached straight into his brain.
Kirk travelled back through time. The recent
message from Grissom brought a strong resonance of
hope from Sarek My son's body may yet
exist perhaps there is still time! Time to save him for the
Hall of Ancient Thought....
And James Kirk understood that even if
Sarek found
The Search For Spock
what he sought, Spock was lost to the world he had
lived in. Only a few individuals, trained for
years in Vulcan philosophic discipline, could
communicate with the presences that existed in the Hall of
Ancient Thought. If Sarek found what he was
looking for, he would give Spock a chance at
immortality . . . but not another chance at life.
Sarek's powerful mind forced Jim farther back in
time. Jim's memories of Spock's death, which had
barely begun to ease, returned with the cruel clarity
of dream.
"He spoke of your friendship."
Jim could not tell if Sarek uttered words or
communicated through the mental link. Likewise he
could not be sure if he himself replied aloud, or in
silence.
"Yes . . ."
"He asked you not to grieve . . ."
"Yes . . ."
"The needs of the many outweigh . . ."
"dis . . the needs of the few his
"Or the one."
The image of Sarek faded from Jim's mind.
Spock appeared, horribly burned and dying.
"Spock . . ." Jim said.
"I have been . . . and always shall be . . . your
friend," Spock said. "Live long . . . and
prosper."
"No!" Jim shouted, as if by force of will he could
twist the dictates of the universe and mortality
to his wishes.
The illusion drained away like a spent wave,
leaving Jim soaked and shaken. He experienced one
last, hopeless thought from Sarek What I thought
destroyed, my son's body, is found; but his soul
is irrevocably lost.
He broke the contact between them.
Jim's knees buckled. Sarek caught and
supported 147
STAR TREK Ill
him. Jim pressed the heels of his hands against his
closed eyes, trying to drive back the sharpened
memones.
"Forgive me," Sarek said. "It is not here. I
assumed he had melded his mind with yours. It is the
Vulcan way, when the body's end is near."
"But he couldn't touch me! We were
separated!"
"Yes," Sarek said. "I see, and I understand."
He turned away, weariness even age apparent in
the set of his shoulders. "Everything that he was,
everything that he knew, is lost. I must return
to Vulcan, emptyhanded. I will join Amanda. We
will mourn our son. We will mourn for the loss of his
life, we will mourn for the loss of his soul."
Without a word of farewell, he started toward the
door. tilde
"Wait!" Kirk cried. "Please . . .
wait." Like a man trying to scale a crumbling
cliff he clutched at fragile branches, and they
pulled loose from the rock. "Sarek, surely he
would have found a way! If there were so much at stake,
Spock would have found a way!"
Sarek strode toward the door and Kirk feared
he would sweep out of the room without a
backward glance, hinting at possibilities,
abandoning them.
Sarek slowed, hesitated, turned. "What are
you saying, Kirk?"
"What if he melded his mind with someone else?"
Chapter 7
The flight recorder from the Enterprise lay under
seal and under guard. Even Admiral James T.
Kirk had to do some fast talking and some throwing of his
authority to see it, much less to bring in an outside
observer. Though Sarek knew all there was for any
diplomat to know about Genesis and about the last
voyage of the
Enterprise, whoever had cleared him for those
reports had not thought to include the flight
recorder. This caused what seemed to Kirk like an
endless delay. However esteemed Sarek might be with
in the Federation, he was not a member of Starfleet.
Then, when the ambassador finally received special
clearance to view the data, Kirk was absolutely
refused permission to transmit the recording anywhere
outside the records storage center. He and
Sarek had to go to it.
Kirk arrived at the center chafing under the limita
STAR TREK Ill
lions of surface travel. He found it
incredibly frustratin g to be forced actually
to traverse the distance from one point to another, rather than
to have a convenient transporter beam at his beck and
call.
Finally all the distance had been covered, all the
permissions had been granted, all the forms had been
signed and sealed and retina-printed, and he and Sarek
entered a viewing cubicle that would display data from the
Enterprise's flight recorder.
Ordinarily the recorder would lie essentially
suppressed, quiescently tracking only the
routine mechanical functions of the ship. An alert
increased its powers of observation and set it to making a
permanent record of the ship's crucial areas. The
engine room monitor had watched Khan's
attack and Spock's last moments of life.
Jim Kirk had already relived Spock's death
once today, in an all too realistic fashion.
He wondered, as he keyed into the player the star
date he wished to observe, why he had fought so hard
to be permitted to see it again. He could leave Sarek
alone with it and let the Vulcan make of it what he
would. But in the end Kirk could not abandon his
responsibilities to Spock or if his
suspicions proved true to McCoy.
"Engine room, flight recorder, visual," the
computer voice announced. "Star date 8128
point seven eight." It froze at the decimal
he had chosen. "Point seven eight . .
. point seven eight . . .".
On the screen, Spock lay dying against the
glass of the radiation enclosure, frozen in time.
"Back!" Kirk snapped. "Point seven
seven."
The random access search skipped to the last words
between James Kirk and Spock.
"Back! Point six seven."
"Flight recorder, visual. Star date
8128 point six
The Sparch For Spock
seven, point six seven was The tape had reached
the point before Kirk left the bridge, before Spock
entered the radiation chamber, a time when the Enterprise
was still in imminent danger of being caught up in Khan
Singh's detonation of the Genesis device. Spock
was poised in
freeze-frame at the radiation chamber control
console.
"G. his
Spock's image flowed into life. McCoy
entered the picture, intercepting Spock before he
reached the chamber. They argued in eerie silence.
Spock guided McCoy's attention
toward Mr. Scott, who lay halfconscious on
the floor. As soon as McCoy turned his back,
Spock felled him with a nerve pinch.
And then . . . Spock knelt down and pressed
his hand to Dr. McCoy's temple. Spock's
lips formed the silent word
"Remember."
"Hold," Kirk said. The image froze.
"Augment and repeat." The scene scrolled
smoothly back. The central image expanded.
"Audio," Kirk said.
Spock guided McCoy's attention toward
Mr. Scott, who lay halfconscious on the
floor. As soon as McCoy turned his back,
Spock felled him with a nerve pinch.
Spock knelt down and pressed his hand to Dr.
McCoy's temple.
"Remember!" Spock said.
"Freeze!" Kirk said. He struggled against
hope and excitement to retain his composure.
"Bones'. . ." Kirk said softly. All the
doctor's tortured behavior, his confusion
"One alive, one not," Sarek said. "Yet both
in pain."
"One going mad from pain!" Kirk said.
"Why why did Spock leave the wrong
instructions?"
"Do you recall the precise words, Kirk?"
Sarek 151
STAR TREK Ill
cocked his eyebrow at Kirk and saw that he did
not. He repeated a phrase from Spock's will as he
had plucked it from Kirk's mind. ""Failing a
subsequent revision of this document, my remains
are not to be returned to Vulcan ?"' He paused.
"Spock did not . . . did not believe that his
unusual heritage would permit the transfer of his
katra. He did leave the possibility open."
"But he never made a revision. He left
only his
was The good Dr. McCoy," Sarek said. "Who,
if the process had worked properly, would have known
what to do. Perhaps Spock was correct. Perhaps he was
unable to transfer . . ."
"He transferred something! And it's driving
McCoy insane!"
"Had Dr. McCoy ever experienced the
mind-meld before?"
"A couple of times, in emergencies."
"How did he react?"
"He didn't like it. To put it mildly."
Sarek raised his eyebrow again but forbore to remark
upon the comment. "Did he become
physically ill, afterwards?"
"I don't know. He wouldn't necessarily have
said so if he did."
"He is undergoing an allergic reaction."
I"What"...'9
"It is unusual, but not unprecedented.
McCoy's mind is rejecting what Spock gave
to him."
Kirk fought an impulse to laugh. He lost.
"You find this amusing?" Sarek said stiffly.
"No yes, I'm sorry, Sarek, I can't
help it. McCoy would find it hilarious, if he
were in any shape to appreciate it. Come to think of
it, Spock would, too."
"I find that highly unlikely," Sarek said.
"Since the result is that McCoy was unable
to assimilate the new
The Search For Spock
information even so far as to rescind the provision of
Spock's will that may now destroy both of them."
He shook his head. "It would have been
better if Spock had been near another Vulcan
when he died. He did not prepare well, Kirk.
He left too many factors open to chance his
"This is hardly the time to criticise Spock!"
Kirk said angrily. "Or to deplore
Murphy's Law, for that matter."
"What is "Murphy's Law"?"
""Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.""
"How apropos."
"What do we do to make things right?"
"It may already be too late."
"Sarek to was
Sarek gazed at the frozen screen in silence.
"The fact that Dr. McCoy retains even a
semblance of sanity gives me some cause for
hope. You are fortunate that you failed in your plan
to burn my son like a barbarian chieftain. Had it
succeeded, McCoy would surely be lost to us by now.
The mind and the body are not a duality, they are parts
of a whole. If one is destroyed, the other must
disintegrate. If they are separated . . . the
greater the distance, the greater the strain, until it
becomes intolerable."
"The strain on McCoy, you mean."
"Precisely."
"What must I do?"
"You must recover Spock's body from the
Genesis world," Sarek said. "You must bring it, and
Dr. McCoy, to Mount Seleya, on Vulcan.
Only there is the passage possible. Only there can
both find peace."
"What you ask," Kirk said, "is difficult."
"You will find a way, Kirk. If you honor them
both, you must."
STAR TREK 111
Kirk glanced again at the frozen image of his
two closest friends.
"I will," he said. "I swear it."
Even before Jim Kirk and Sarek had left the
records storage center, the questions the ambassador
had left unanswered began to trouble Jim.
"Sarek," he said, "if I succeed in what you
ask . . . will Spock know? I mean will he be
aware of himself? Will he retain his individuality?"
"He will not be as you knew him," Sarek said.
"I understand that!" Kirk said The lessons of the
mind-meld remained fresh in his consciousness. "That
wasn't my question."
"Your question is one that cannot be answered in a
few simple words, Kirk. There is no time his
"I'll take the time!"
Sarek regarded him coolly. "Will you take ten
years of your life? First you must learn to speak
Vulcan, and then you must dedicate yourself to study. In
ten years you might approach the simplest questions of this
philosophy . . . and the question you have asked is far from
the simplest."
"Ambassador, with all due respect that
explanation is getting pretty stale! "I cannot
answer your question because humans are too immature
to understand. Humans are too uncivilised ?"'
"I said nothing against humans. Do you forget that
Spock's mother is human? She has studied the
discipline of ancient thought these many years. She
has earned a place among the adepts and the teachers.
Granted, she is extraordinary. But even you
might reach a moderate level of comprehension his
"I get the picture," Kirk said,
irritated. "It still comes down to, "None of your
business." Is that what
STAR TREK 111
cocked his eyebrow-at Kirk and saw that he
did not. He
repeated a phrase from Spock's will as he had
plucked
it from Kirk's mind. ""Failing a subsequent
revision of
this document, my remains are not to be returned
to
Vulcan ?"' He paused. "Spock did not .
. . did not believe that his unusual heritage would
permit the transfer of his katra. He did leave
the possibility open."
"But he never made a revision. He left
only his
was The good Dr. McCoy," Sarek said. "Who,
if the
process had worked properly, would have known what
to do. Perhaps Spock was correct. Perhaps he was
unable to transfer . . ."
. "He transferred something! And it's driving
McCoy
insane!"
"Had Dr. McCoy ever experienced the
mind-meld
before?"
"A couple of times, in emergencies."
"How did he react?"
"He didn't like it. To put it mildly."
The Search For Spock
I'm supposed to say to Harry Morrow, when I
ask him to bend regulations into the fourth
dimension?"
"You must say what you think best," Sarek said,
without irony.
Hikaru Sulu leaned forward in his leather
armchair. "Admiral, I his
"No!" Kirk said sharply. "Don't answer
me now. I want you to think it over first."
The image of James Kirk faded abruptly
from the "phone screen.
On the surface, what Kirk had asked Sulu
to do was not very difficult. A volunteer mission, a
few days out, a few days back. But if worse
came to worst, the consequences could be grave. Kirk
had not softpedaled the most severe of the
possibilities.
Kirk's intensity troubled Hikaru. It was
Kirk who had first commented on the crew's obsession
with the death of Spock, and now he himself seemed
obsessed and driven. What he hoped to accomplish
was not entirely clear to Hikaru who had the definite
impress sion that Kirk was not clear on
the details, either.
But it was certain that Kirk felt responsible for
Spock's death, and that h e could not accept it.
Hikaru believed Kirk had taken on this mission
to expiate the guilt he felt, and he understood
Kirk well enough to know that he would never be free of the
guilt, or of his grief, until he completed what
he had sworn to do.
Cold-rain skittered against the window. Hikaru
sat in the dark for an hour, thrashing questions around in his
mmd.
He admitted to himself that he feared for James
Kirk's sanity.
The house was very quiet. He shared it with four other
people, but tonight he was the only one home.
i, 155
STAR TREK 111
He was, in fact, the lone member of the
household on Earth. Only rarely was everyone
home at the same time, but even more rarely was everyone
else gone.
I shouldn't be home, either, he thought. Dammit!
He got up and went out the back door into the
garden. Without his noticing, the rain had stopped and the
sky had cleared. The full moon was risen
halfway to its zenith. The wet lawn felt cold
against his bare feet and the air was
ozone-washed. In the near distance, the sea rushed
against the shore and away.
His mind chased itself around in circles. He needed
to think about something else for a while, or better yet
to think of nothing at all. He began to move in a
ho routine, bo-no-ikAyo, though his ho, his
wooden staff, was back in the house along with his gi,
and the black belt and hakama he had only
recently earned when he passed his shodan test.
Tsuki, deflect, tsuki yokomen, yokomen
Over the years he had studied a number of
martial arts. He was an excellent fencer, and he
had progressed to the first of the several degrees of
brown belts in judo. But his interest in judo had
always had more to do with the fact that he was learning it from
Mandala Flynn (he believed she had the same
feeling about fencing, which he had taught her).
Aikido was different. It was a martial art
dedicated to non-violence, to demonstrating to one's
opponent the futility of violence. He had been
comtraining for some years now. The thrill of being
promoted to shodan, of putting on for the first time the
black belt and the hakama, the long wide
pleated black trousers, was just as intense as what he
had felt when he received the orders giving him command of
Excelsior.
Yokomen, kokushibo, sweep, reverse,
thrust, dogiri
Usually he could lose himself in the motions, but
The Search For Spock
tonight the question he had been asked and the decision he had
still to make remained uppermost in his mind, spoiling the
flow and the peace of the routine.
James Kirk planned to return to Genesis,
whether he got help and the Enterprise from
Starfleet, or merely a blind eye turned when he
departed.
If he were denied permission, or expressly
forbidden to go .
Suluthought of his magnificent new ship, up in
spacedock, waiting for him, nearly ready to fly.
That was where he should be, not down here Earthbound,
waiting for debriefings, waiting to testify, waiting
to find out from Starfleet whether he had kept his nose
clean enough to rate being given back his command.
They had no right to take it from me in the first
place, he thought. But they did, and they
made very dear the conditions under which I might hope
to regain it.
Yokomen, tsuki, yokomen, sweep and turn
He lost the rhythm and the pattern. He stopped.
He . blotted the sweat from his forehead, from the sides
of his face.
He weighed Excelsior against what James
Kirk had asked of him. He weighed his ambitions
against his allegiance; he weighed the future and the
past.
He made a decision, without regret and without
reservation.
He swirled back into the routine, moving lightly
over the springy wet grass while the last fall
roses perfumed the air. The pattern of his motions
was smooth and pure, the way he hoped and tried to form
his life.
Saavik ran through the steamy, humid glade,
pushing aside rain-laden fronds that doused her with
cascades of sun-warmed water. She followed the
sound of the cry, pierced to her center by its despair.
The tricorder in her 157
STAR TREK Ill
hand beeped and clicked with life-sign readings, but
she hardly glanced at it. Its data were
superfluous.
She burst from the forest. It ended so abruptly that
she stopped. David hurried up behind her, breathing
hard.
"Not so fast," he said between gasps. "We don't
know what that scream was." He bent over to catch his
breath. "It might be a predator it might be one of
Vance's dragons."
Saavik wondered who had designed this section
of the landscape. Enormous cactuslike trees
stretched bulbous fingers to the sky. On the rocky
surface, Bray, leathery succulents spread their
thick leaves like wounded wings, soaking up the sun.
The ground quivered gently beneath Saavik's
feet. It was like a caress but the illusion shattered
when the pain-filled cry came again. Whatever made
that sound experienced no
pleasure from the trembling land.
Saavik strode forward, the gravel of the desert
crunching beneath her boots and sliding beneath her heels.
The rounded, waterworn stones made the surface
treacherous and slippery and difficult to negotiate.
"Was this a 'll joke"?" she said to David.
"What?"
"Waterworn stones, in a desert that
has never seen water? False history, false
geology."
"We wanted to make it seem real," David
said. "Layered. Not as if everything were brand new."
"In that, you certainly succeeded." The cacti
might each have been a thousand years old. The
succulents might have been left over from an earlier
age, living fossils of the beginnings of evolution.
She continued deeper into the forest of cacti. The
dryness was a relief after the oppressive humidity
of the glade, but what glimpses she could get between the
The Search For Spock
gnarled and looming trunks hinted at another
abrupt change of climate.
A hundred meters farther on, the ground was
covered with snow.
The rumble of a temblor surrounded her. She
tensed and the cry came yet again. She had been
expecting it
We hear the cry whenever the ground quakes, she
thought. As if there were some direct connection.... But
she amended her hasty
deduction. She did not have enough data to draw a
significant conclusion, and besides, the
creature, the being, might simply be frightened by the
earthquakes.
"Grissom to ground party. What's going on down
these?"
Saavik stopped and flipped open her
communicator.
"Saavik here, Captain. We have strong life
sign readings, bearing zero-one-five. We are
proceeding to investigate."
"All right; Saavik, I concur.... But be
advised that we are tracking a severe and
unnatural age curve for the planet. The
harmonic motion of the core is increasing in
amplitude at a rate that is making me very
nervous."
Saavik covered the microphone of the
communicator. David was staring in the direction
of the snow, apparently ignoring her conversation with
Captain Esteban.
"Do you have an explanation?"
"Later," he said with an intensity that belied his
outward indifference to Esteban's information. He
gestured impatiently. "Let's go!" Without
waiting, he started toward the snow-covered bluffs beyond
the desert, moving away from her in more
important ways than simple distance.
STAR TREK Ill
Saavik uncovered the communicator pickup.
"Grissom, your message acknowledged. Will
advise. Saavik out."
She snapped shut the communicator and
followed David across the desert. He had already
passed beyond the limits of the twisted cactus trees.
A breeze ruffled his curly golden hair. With every
step he took the wind grew stronger. By the time
Saavik reached the edge of the forest, the wind had begun
to swirl flakes of dry snow against David's
feet. He was only about fifty meters ahead of
her. She stepped out of the shelter of the cacti, into the
whine of the wind. The temperature dropped
precipitously, perhaps thirty degrees in as many
paces. The wind howled past them.
David reached the first patch of solid snow,
stopped, and gazed down at something. Saavik joined
him. A trail of small, blurry footprints
led from the edge of the snow and up the
white-blanketed slope. The wind had obscured
their outlines. A sudden flurry of snow threatened
to bury them entirely.
The sky held no clouds. The snow was not
falling; it was, rather, being carried by the wind from some
other source. The icy, stinging flakes cut the
visibility to almost nothing.
Saavik sat on her heels and looked
closely at the vanishing footprints. She shook
her head and rose to her feet.
"Those are not, I think, the tracks of
Sauriforrn Madisonii," she said. Neither, though,
were they the tracks she had hoped to find.
In the Starfleet officers' lounge, Jim
Kirk feigned calm as he waited for Harry
Morrow's reply. Morrow stared silently out into the
night, his reflection black on black against the
wide expanse of the window that stretched seamlessly from
one side of the lounge to the
11 e Search For Spock
other. The Starfleet commander's expression
remained unreadable. Kirk forced himself not to clench his
fists.
"No," Morrow said finally. "Absolutely not,
Jim. It's out of the question."
All the repressed tension fueledKirk's words.
"Harry Harry, I'm off the record
now. I'm not speaking as a member of your staff.
I'm talking about thirty years of service. I have
to do this, Harry. It has to do with my honor my
life. Everything I put any value on."
He cut off his plea when a steward-stopped at
his elbow with a tray, removed empty glasses,
replaced them with full ones. Jim held himself
silent. After an interminable time, the steward left.
"Harry his
"Jim," Morrow said carefully, "you are my
best officer, and if I had a best friend, you'd be that,
too. But I am Commander, Starfleet, so I
don't break rules."
"Don't q uote rules, Harry! We're
talking about loyalty! And sacrifice! One man
who died for us, another at risk of dee tilde
permanent emotional damage tilde his
"Now, wait a minute!" Morrow said. "This
business about Spock and McCoy and mind-melds and
honestly, I have never understood Vulcan
mysticism. Nor do I understand what you hope
to accomplish I'm sorry! I don't want you
to make a fool of yourself. Understand?"
"Harry, you don't have to believe. I'm not even
sure I believe. But if there's even a
chance that Spock has an . . . an eternal soul
then that is my responsibility."
"Yours!"
"As surely as if it were my own." He leaned
forward. "Harry, give me back the Enterprise!
With Scotty's help his
" 161
STAR TREK lll
"No, Jim! The Enterprise would never stand the
pounding."
Kirk realized that Morrow had not understood a word
he had said all evening. Harry did not believe him
and did not trust him. Worse, he would not permit
him to draw on a thirty years" friendship to help
him complete a task that bound him as strongly as any
Stardeet mission he had ever undertaken.
"You've changed, Harry," he said with anger and
contempt. "You used to be willing to take some
risks."
"I used to have different responsibilities than
I have now," Harry said sadly. "Jim, I'm not
completely unsympathetic to your request, believe
me. I'll contact Esteban. If anything comes of
. . . what Grissom has found on Genesis,
I will of course order them to bring it
back."
"How long ?"
"At least six weeks."
"Impossible. Harry, Leonard McCoy is
being driven mad! He wasn't properly prepared
for what happened to him, he wasn't trained in six
weeks the damage could be fatal!"
"You're not dictating any terms here!
Grissom's mission is vital we have to have the data
on Genesis before we can make a decision about it!
And you want me to order them to turn around and come
straight back so you can save a dead man's soul?
Can't you see how that would sound? No. I'm
sorry."
"I repeat give me back my ship."
"I'm sorry, Jim. I can't let you have the
Enterprise. his
"Then I'll find a shi tilde I'll hire a
ship!"
"Out of the question!" Morrow said again. "You can hire
one but you won't get it anywhere near Genesis. The
whole Mutara sector is under quarantine. No
one goes there until the science team gets back,
and probably not even then. Council's orders."
. 162
The Search For Spock
"Then let me speak to the Council!" Jim's
voice rose, so absorbed was he in the urgency of
his quest. "Harry, please! I can make them
understand!"
He realised that every person in the lounge was either
staring at him or making a noticeable effort to avoid
doing so. He drew back, forcing his temper back
under control.
"No, you understand," Morrow said. "You simply have
no conception of the political realities of this
situation. Tensions are strung so tight you could play
them like a piano! The Council has its hands full
trying to deal with delegations from both the Romulan and the
Klingon Empires. My gods, Jim, can you
imagine the repercussions if you go in there and
announce your personal views on friendship and
metaphysics?" He shook his head slowly,
stroked the condensation in stripes down the side of his
glass with his forefinger, and clenched his fist. "Jim to
Your life and your career stand for rationality, not
intellectual chaos. Keep up this emotional
behavior, and you'll Ipse everything. You'll
destroy yourself!"
As one friend accused him of abandoning
lifelong rationality because of a duty to another friend who
had continually perceived him as totally illogical,
Jim Kirk felt an almost hysterical urge
to laugh.
"Do you hear me, Jim?"
Jim stared at him for a long time, searching for some
way to respond to having been so
irrevocably refused. He sagged back in his
chair.
"Yes, I hear you," he said. He truly was not
sure if he had heard everything Harry Morrow had
said to him, but it did not matter. He sighed. "I .
. . just had to try."
"Of course," Morrow said. "I understand."
Jim said nothing, certainly not, No, you don't,
you don't at all.
STAR TREK 111
"Now take my suggestion, Jim," Morrow said
kindly. "Enjoy your leave and let all this tension
blow away."
"You're right," Rirk said with reluctance. He
picked up his glass and raised it to Morrow.
"Thanks for the drink."
"Any time."
Jim set it back down without tasting it, rose,
and walked from the lounge, eyes front. He was very
much aware of Morrow, watching him with
concern, very much aware of all the other senior
Starfleet officers, deliberately avoiding him.
This was the world in which he had lived for thirty years,
the world in which he always before felt comfortable and welcome.
The palpable chill said The pressure finally got
to him, Jim Kirk finally cracked.
The rumorswd fly across Starfleet at
transwarp speed, grow, and take on a life of
their own.
He left the lounge, stepping out into the terminal
of the spaceport. Restrained conversation and low lights
gave way to brilliant illumination and the hubbub of
crowds. He felt more out of place here than he ever
had on any alien world. He wondered if there was
any place left for him at all.
He looked around, feeling conspicuous in his
Starfleet uniform. Finally he found Sulu and
Chekov. They were a hundred meters across the
terminal, wearing civilian clothes and sitting together
on a circular bench, people-watching. Chekov wore a
jumpsuit of relatively severe tailoring,
while Sulu wore jeans and sandals and an
embroidered white Filipino festival shirt.
Sulu saw Kirk first and nudged Chekov. They
waited for him with elaborate casualness. Kirk
glanced around carefully, looking for other Starfleet
personnel. He wished he had asked the two younger
officers to wait for him somewhere more private. The way
things
The Search For Spock
stood, the less they were seen with him the better.
He needed their help, but with any luck he might be
able to get them out of all this relatively unscathed.
He saw no one else he recognised, he
joined Sulu and Chekov.
"The word, sir?" Sulu said.
"His word is no," Kirk said, gesturing with a
jerk of his head back toward the senior officers'
lounge. "But my word . . . is given."
"Count on our help, sir."
"I'll need it, Hikaru." He had nearly
slipped, nearly said, "Thank you, Captain." But
he had heard about Sulu's removal as captain of
Excelsior. The young officer still retained the
rank, of course, but without a ship it meant nothing.
Kirk felt responsible for the change in
Sulu's orders. He did not want to hurt him
any more.
"Shall I alert Dr. McCoy, sir?" Chekov
asked.
"Yes. He has . . . a long journey
ahead."
Leonard McCoy strode down the crowded
street. His body felt like someone else's. He
could smell the pungent scent of eight different
volatile recreational drugs. He was familiar
with them all, of course he was, after all, a
doctor. But he should not be able to sort them out so
efficiently from the surrounding smells of the dirty
street, the fog, the rain, incense and warm oil from
one establishment, raw meat from another. He could
hear more clearly than usual. He listened to five
simultaneous conversations, one in Standard, two in more
traditional Earth languages, and two no, that was
a single conversation being carried out in two different
dialects of the same offworld tongue.
He arrived at the meeting place. He paused
before its brightly lit come-hither sign. He could
feel the colors of the neon script illuminating his
face with another dozen
165
STAR TREK In
different languages, evenly divided between Earth
and other worlds. He rubbed the scratchy stubble on his
jaw. There was something else he was supposed to be
doing, something Jim had told him to do. Oh. Right.
Jim had told him to shave and put on more beard
repressor. Was this as important? He
remembered what it was he was doing. It definitely
was more important than shaving.
But is it the right thing? he wondered. There's still time
to turn back, go to the nearest hospital, confess
to being stark raving mad, and make them lock me up
before I get violent.
He reached into his pocket, but it was empty.
He had forgotten his tranquilizers. He shrugged.
They had not been doing him much good anyway.
He plunged into the tavern.
The noise, the smoke, the appalling scent of
sizzling meat assaulted him. He staggered and only
managed to keep from falling by grabbing onto the nearest
person. She turned, ready to fight, then looked
at him more closely and laughed.
"Honey, you look like you're having a tough time of
it," she said. She supported him easily. She was
half a head taller than he. Her
heavy, curly black hair spread around her head
and down her back. She wore the black leather
pants and jacket favored by independent couriers,
with the jacket fastened only at the bottom and nothing
beneath it. The skin of her throat and the inner curves of
her breasts looked like warm sable. She was black on
black on black, except her eyes, which were a
piercing pale blue. He stared up at her and fell
in love with her instantly. Only that saved him from
abandoning his appointment and asking her for the help he
needed. He did not want to drag anyone he loved
into the trouble he was heading for.
The Search For Spock
"I'm . . . I'm all right," he said. He
drew himself up straighter. He still had some dignity.
She kept a steadying hand on his elbow.
"Sure?"
"Yes," he said. "Yes, thank you."
"Okay." She let him go.
Somehow he kept his feet and continued
farther into the bar. A tiny plane whizzed past his
face. Startled, he stepped back and nearly
fell. A second plane whined past, its
propellers blurred, minuscule guns
blazing with a s harp snapping sound like a fire of
pitch-pine.
The planes were holograms. Nearby, two
youths lay in game couches, their eyes closed and
their hands on antiqued controls. Behind their eyelids
they were experiencing the dogfight of the two early
twentieth century biplanes. McCoy watched the
three-dimensional images zoom high over the heads
of the bar patrons. Each aircraft was the size of
his hand, and exquisitely detailed. Suddenly they
dove straight toward him. The Spad 7 vanished
into his shirt front, the Albatros D-III
dose behind. He hardly had time to flinch. He
looked over his shoulder to watch them soar into the
heights again, unscathed by their passage through his
strange and alien body. The fleeing Spad
suddenly executed an elegant loop-the-loop,
came up behind the Albatros, and quite abruptly shot
it out of the sky. The A1batros screamed into a
dive, emitted holographic flame and clouds of
holographic smoke and disappeared a
handsbreadth from the floor. The Spad zoomed
victoriously toward the ceiling and faded away.
"Gotcha!" cried one of the youths.
"Okay, okay want to make it three
out of five?"
"That is a wager."
They were dressed alike McCoy wondered if that
was some new style he had been too out of touch
to notice and they looked so alike that it was
impossible
STAR TREK 111
to tell if they were two of one gender, two of the
other, or one of each. He supposed they knew.
That was, after all, the thing that mattered.
McCoy pushed on ahead. The illumination was very
dim, but he could see quite clearly, in an odd and
glowing way that he had never experienced before.
Nevertheless he could not find the person he was looking
for. Instead he found a small unoccupied booth in
the corner of the room and settled down to wait.
Beneath the din of the tavern he heard footsteps
quickly approaching. He glanced up.
"Long time, Doc," Kendra said.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah . . ." He would have
liked to talk over old times with her. "Anyone . .
. been looking for me?"
"I have," she said. "But what's the use?" She
smiled. "Well. What'll it be?"
"Altair water." He drew himself up grandly.
was "Specially carbonated from underground
fissures.""
Kendra snorted at his recitation of the
advertisement.
"Not your usual poison."
"To expect one to order poison in a bar is not
logical," he said, and then he realized though it
surprised him to hear a tavern employee
admitting it that of course she meant alcohol, which was
indeed a poison despite its wide use as a
recreational drug.
Then he wondered what in heaven's name he was
talking about. He simply did not want a drink,
that was all. He had not had a drink since since before
Spock died, as it happened. This is it, he thought.
Sheer lunacy. I'm talking to myself. I always
talk to myself, though, he thought, it helps me think.
Have since I was only a tad. Doesn't mean a
thing. As Freud said, Sometimes a cigar is only
a cigar. He noticed Kendra
168 to --.
The Search For Spock
watching him curiously. "Excuse me," he
said. "I'm on medication."
"Got it." She went away to get his water. As
her footsteps receded among the hubbub, another
set approached.
The alien slid into the booth beside him. "Hello!
Welcome to your planet."
"I think that's my line, stranger," McCoy
said.
"Oh, forgive. I here am new. But you are
known, being McCoy from EnterprZse."
"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. You are
?"
"I name not important. You seek I.
Message received. Available ship stands
by."
"Good. How soon and how much?"
"How soon is now. How much . . . is where."
"Where . . . ?"
"Is yes. Where?"
"Somewhere in the Mutara Sector."
"Oh. Mutara restricted. Take permits
many... money more."
"There aren't going to be any damn permits!"
McCoy shouted. "How can you get a permit to do a
damn illegal thing?" He glanced around
hurriedly to see if anyone had
noticed his outburst, then continued in a softer, more
conspiratorial tone. "Look, price you name,
money I got."
"You name place, I name money. Otherwise,
bargain no." tilde
"All right, dammit! It's Genesis. The name
of the place we're going to is Genesis."
"Genesis!" The being recoiled.
"Genesis, yes! How can you be deaf," he
muttered, "with ears like that?" I used to say the same
thing to Spock, McCoy thought.
"Genesis allowed is not. Is planet
forbidden."
STAR TREK 111
"Now listen to me, my backwards friend!" He
lurched forward and grabbed the alien's collar.
"Genesis may be "planet forbidden," but I'm
damn well his
A hand closed around his arm. McCoy tried
to pull away, but the grip tightened painfully. He
looked up. The civilian, an ordinary man, so
ordinary he should have looked out of place here, but did
not, smiled at him pleasantly. When he leaned
forward he loomed, and McCoy realised
how big he was.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but your voice is
carrying," he said. "I don't think you want to be
discussing this subject in public. his
"I'll discuss what I like, and who the hell are
you?"
The alien tried to pluck McCoy's hands from his
collar. McCoy considered going for his throat, but
instead clenched his hands harder around the fabric. The
civilian tightened his grip again.
"Could I offer you a ride home, Dr.
McCoy?"
What shreds of control McCoy had regained
disintegrated.
"Where's the logic in offering me a ride home,
you idiot! If I wanted a ride home, would I
be trying to charter a space flight?" He scowled,
beginning to perceive the civilian as an obstacle to his
quest. "How the hell do you know who I am?"
The plain young man lowered his voice.
"Federation security, sir."
McCoy realized just how serious an obstacle the
young man was. He lurched away, loosing his
grasp on the alien and trying to break the security
man's grip. He crashed into Kendra,
bringing his Altair water, which tumbled off her-tray
and splashed over the alien's face and shoulders. The
alien leaped to his feet, brushing at the drops and
stains. Kendra, surprised by the fray, fell
backwards against the next table, sending icy drinks
into customers' laps.
The Search For Spock
"You you horrible doctor!" the alien cried, still
brushing at the water.
"Come in here and punch people, will you?" yelled a
customer as bits of crushed ice slid down the
front of his sheer trousers. "Whyn't you go across the
street where you belong?" He punched the alien, who
rolled with the blow, let himself fall over a chair that
tripped up the ice-drenched patron, chose the
better part of valor, and left his commission behind him.
McCoy bowed to the wisdom of his former and all
too brief colleague and headed for the door.
Unfortunately the Federation man still had hold of his
arm. He brought McCoy up short. McCoy
swung around, panicked, and grabbed the man at the
vulnerable point between neck and shoulder. He
squeezed with all his strength and turned to flee without
even waiting to see what happened.
Nothing had happened at all.
The Federation man, his grip unbroken,
dragged McCoy to a halt. He looked into the
doctor's eyes. "You're going to get a nice,
long rest, doctor," he said gently. "Please
come along."
McCoy had a choice walk or be carried.
He walked.
Chapter 8
Saavik followed the blurry, half-obscured
tracks across the snow. The wind blew ice
crystals against her face, whipping them across her
cheeks and freezing them to her eyelashes. She
squinted to try to see into the blizzard. Movement
caught her eye, and she headed toward it. The snow
made ghosts all around her. She would have believed she
were seeing phantoms if David's tricorder had
not continued to bleat rhythmically.
She trudged through the snow, cold and
unhappy, trying to ignore both sensations. But
she discovered that once she had released her
self-discipline, even for only a few days, she
could not easily regain the complete Vulcan control
she had worked so hard to learn.
With the discovery of the creatures around Spock's
coffin, her hopes had crashed; a few moments
later, when she saw that the coffin was intact,
unsealed, and
Tl Search For Spock
empty, her hopes had risen just as abruptly.
This emotionalism was dangerous; in addition, it was
illogical, for even when she dropped her mental
shields completely, she could find no sense of
Spock anywhere.
She knew she had erred. Whatever happened,
whatever she and David found, she must
re-establish dominance over her feelings and
aspire to eradicating them.
Now she understood why Vulcans denied
themselves any indulgence in passion. It was
to protect themselves from pain.
Saavik shivered and pressed forward against the howling
wind and the snow.
The ground rose beneath her. She was climbing the
flank of a glacier. In only a few
kilometers' distance it had changed from a thin
blanket of snow to a sheet of ice many meters
thick.
The frequency of the tricorder's output
increased until it was nearly a continuous shriek,
even louder than the wind. Saavik stopped and
motioned for David to turn the thing off.
Beneath the ragged whine of the wind, the skittering of snow
across the ground, the creaking of the ice beneath her feet,
Saavik heard a weak and frightened whimper. She
walked toward it. Her boots crunched through the
frozen crust. The snow reached halfway to her
knees. The uneven footprints before her trailed
atop the surface. She wondered if she were
following some small and vicious predator that a
member of the Genesis team had made up as "a little
joke," a little joke that now perhaps was injured and
desperate. Saavik was growing impatient with the
collective humor of the group. Her phaser made
a
comforting weight in her hand.
A great mass of stone, one moment concealed by the
snow, the next a wall of tumbled grey blocks
before her, thrust abruptly from the surface of the
glacier. The 173
STAR TREK In
ice had crumpled and cracked all around it,
piling up in great heaps to either side.
Saavik saw the child.
He crouched in the meager shelter of a rock
overhang, naked, shuddering uncontrollably with the
cold. He saw her and tried to scrabble deeper
into the cleft, clumsy on his injured leg.
David saw the boy and gasped.
"Your comrades appear to have added a
humanoid species to the Genesis matrix,
Saavik said. She crushed out the spark of fury that
rose in her against such presumption. She could not
afford to lose her temper, not here, not now.
"We didn't," David said. "I'm sure
nobody did. We discussed it, because we realised it
was possible. But nobody did it. Nobody even
argued for it it was obvious to all of us that it would be
completely unethical to include an artificial
intelligence in the first experiment. Besides, nobody
could have put such a complex program into the matrix
without everybody else noticing."
"David, the evidence is before your eyes." She
holstered her phaser, opened the side pocket of her
coat, and drew out Spock's burial robe. She
stepped toward the child, carrying the heavy cloth in one
hand, her other hand empty and
outstretched.
"No," David said. "The evidence is behind us,
in Spock's empty coffin."
She looked at him sharply, unwilling to let
herself begin to hope again.
The little boy huddled against cold stone, too tired
to flee any farther. The wind whipped his scraggly
black hair around his face and shoulders. The cold
had given his skin a peculiar pallid tint.
Saavik sat on her heels beside him and touched his
shoulder gently. He 174
, The Search For Spock
flinched violently and stared at her, wide-eyed.
She brushed her fingertips across his cheek. He
continued to watch her, motionless, as she pushed back his
hair, revealing his ears.
He was a Vulcan.
Saavik stared at him with wonder. She did not
know what this could mean. Now was no time for analysis.
The cold and the wind were too
powerful. Whoever or whatever the boy was, she had
to get him off the glacier.
She hoped she had shown him she meant him no
harm. Moving slowly and carefully, she brought the
black cloth forward, opened it slowly so he could
see what she was doing, and wrapped it around
his shoulders. He touched it with wonder, then hugged it
tight.
"I am Saavik," Saavik said in Vulcan.
"Can you speak?"
He cocked his head at her, but did not reply.
She felt no resonances from him, no mental
emanations, no hint of Spock's powerful
intelligence. He was, rather, an innocent, a
blank.
"It was the Genesis wave," David said. "It
must have been. His cells could have been regenerated.
Reformed . . ."
Still moving carefully so as not to alarm the child,
Saavik drew out her communicator. David's
theory was the most outrageous she could
imagine . . . and the simplest.
"Saavik to Gr tilde ssom. Captain
Esteban, come in please."
"Esteban here, Saavik. Go ahead."
"We have found the source of the life signs. It
is a Vulcan child, the equivalent of eight or ten
Earth years of age."
There was a very long pause before Esteban replied.
STAR TREK 111
"A child' That's . . . extraordinary. How
did he get there?"
"It is Dr. Marcus' opinion that this is that the
Genesis effect has in some way
regenerated tilde aptain Spock."
Back on board the Grissom, J.t.
Esteban clamped his jaw tight shut to keep it from
dropping. He glanced over at his science officer,
who stopped staring at the speaker from which Saavik's
announcement had come and met
Esteban's gaze with an expression of complete,
bewildered, speechless perplexity.
"Ah, Saavik," Esteban said, slowly,
carefully, trying to figure out how to reply without
saying that he thought she and David Marcus had gone
stark staring bankers. "That's . . . ah . . .
extraordinary. What would you, ah, like to do next?"
"Request permission to beam aboard
immediately."
He wanted to stall them for a bit. It was possible
that some glitch in the Genesis programs had
produced powerful hallucinogens, or even that one of
its denizens could take on the form of someone the
observer would most desire to see. He could not take
the chance of beaming such a thing on board. Of
course there was always the possibility that what
Saavik was describing was exactly what was
happening....
"Saavik . . . do Dr. Marcus' instruments
show any chance of, er, radioactive contamination?"
After a short pause, Saavik replied,
"None that he can detect, sir."
"Well. All the same, I'm going to advise
Starfleet and get instructions."
"I am sure Starfleet would approve, sir,"
Saavik said.
"Nevertheless . . . Iet's do it by the book. Stand
by on this channel." He nodded to his
communications officer. "G."
The Search For Spock
"Starfleet command, this is USS Grissom on
subspace coded channel ninety-eight point
eight. Come in, please."
The comm officer flinched as a high whine came through
the earpiece.
"Sir," the comm officer said to Esteban, "some-
thing's jamming our transmission. An energy
surge."
"What's the location?"
"Astern, sir. Aft quarter."
"On screen."
The viewscreen flickered from a forward view to the
aft pickup. The starfield lay empty behind them,
empty except for an odd interference pattern in
one corner. Esteban frowned,
wondering if the maintenance of the pickup had been
let go.
The interference pattern suddenly coalesced and
solidified.
Out of nothing, a ship appeared.
Down on the surface of Genesis, Saavik and
David waited impatiently for a response from
Esteban. To Saavik's embarrassment, she was
beginning to shiver from the cold. The child had stopped
watching them. He hunched shivering in the black
cloth, his eyelids drooping.
"Don't sleep," Saavik said, shaking him
gently. He did not respond.
"Just like good old J.t. to leave us here freezing
our butts off while he puts in a call
to Starlleet," David said. "Let's get off this
glacier, anyway."
Saavik nodded. Between them, they got the child to his
feet. His injured leg collapsed beneath
him. They would have to carry him, then call Grissom
back when they got to a more hospitable spot.
As she was about to put her communicator away, it
shrieked and squealed.
STAR TREK In
"Oh, my god!" It was Esteban's voice.
"Red alert! Raise the shields!"
"Captain," Saavik said, "what is it?"
"We're under attack! Stand by for
evasive stand by for ,,
The cracked voice dissolved in a rattle of
static.
"Captain! Captain Esteban, come in
please!"
Deep space replied to her with silence.
On the bridge of the Klingon fighter,
Commander Kruge watched the Federation
science ship open out like a flower with a center of
flame. The wreckage exploded and expanded beyond the
limits of his own ship's port. Kruge's anger
was only a little less explosive.
He swung around toward his gunner.
"I told you," he said dangerously, in the lowest
of the low dialects, "engine section
only!"
"A fortunate mistake," the gunner said. His
crest flared up in excitement until he realised
how Kruge had spoken to him. "Sir . . . ?"
"I wanted prisoners," Kruge said, layering
all the strata of his words with contempt. At his
side, Warrigul growled.
The gunner's crest flattened against his skull.
Kruge gestured to Maltz.
"Offer him a chance to regain his honor," Kruge
said.
Maltz stopped before the gunner's station and drew his
ceremonial blade.
The gunner cringed. "Sir, please, no it was an
error!"
Maltz willed the gunner to get hold of himself and
bow to the inevitable with grace. Maltz offered him his
own honor blade. Every member of the crew watched,
mesmerised.
The Search For Spock
Instead of accepting it and doing the proper thing, the
gunner lurched backward from his station.
"Sir, no!" he cried. He stumbled toward
Kruge, his hands outstretched in
supplication. "Mercy, sir his
Kruge drew his phaser and fired. The gunner
disintegrated in a flare of energy.
"Animal," Kruge muttered. Warrigul
snorted in agreement and rubbed up against his leg.
Maltz sheathed his blade, glad that its edge had
not been sullied with the b100d of a coward.
"Sir," Torg said, "may I suggest his
Kruge whirled around to confront him. The commander still
gripped the handle of his phaser, his frustration
undiminished.
"Say the wrong thing, Torg, and I will kill you,
too!"
"I only mean to say, my lord, that if it is
prisoners you want, we interrupted a
transmission from the planet's surface. I have
traced it." He gestured to the screen. "These life
signs may be the very scientists you seek."
Kruge strode to his side, glared at the
screen, and analysed the readings. One was clearly
human, the other two less distinctive. Vulcan,
perhaps, or Romulan. Human was to be expected;
humans were the troublemakers of the galaxy, as far as
Kruge was concerned. It annoyed him thoroughly that the
Romulans might be involved in this. No
doubt they had abandoned their commitments to the Klingon
Empire and rushed straight to conclude an alliance
with the Federation, in return for a share in Genesis.
And he, Kruge, was about to catch them at the
treachery.
"Very good," he said to Torg, who stood even
straighter with the pleasure of his commander's approval.
"Very good."
\*
STAR TREK 111
The Vulcan boy huddled against Saavik's
side, unable to understand the events taking place
overhead, unable even to understand that events were taking
place overhead, but upset and frightened by David and
Saavik's reaction.
"Grissom, this is Saavik, come in please his
The emergency channel replied with static.
Suddenly Saavik sna pped the communicator
closed. Her transmission would clearly and
easily mark their position.
"Saavik, my gods, what happened to them?"
"It would seem that Grissom was destroyed by an
enemy attack," she said.
Saavik thought with regret of Frederic,
the Glaeziver, whose counsel she had grown to value
in the short time she had known him. He had understood
what Genesis might mean for him and his kind; and now
he was gone.
"Destroyed . . . ?" Stunned, David
looked up, as if he might see the remains of the
ship drifting dead in the new sky.
Saavik put away her communicator. It was
useless now. She picked up the Vulcan child and
started across the ice. She was very worried about the boy.
He was so cold he had ceased even to shiver.
The ground quaked gently beneath her feet. Some
distance away, ice shuddered, squealed, and ruptured.
The child cried out weakly and began to tremble again. His
pain did not ease until the temblor faded.
Saavik reached the place where, half an hour
earlier, the snowfield had ended. Now it stretched
onward and she could not see its edge. She hitched the
child higher against her shoulder and ploughed on.
David caught up to her.
The Search For Spock
"Saavik that means we're stranded down here!"
"Logic indicates that is the case," she said.
The glacier seemed never-ending. It must be
flowing at an incredible rate.
"How can you be logical at a time like this? We have
to get the hell off this planet!"
"We must get out of the snow, first," she said. "I
think it likely that we would freeze before we would
starve, on this world."
"We have to get off Genesis!" David said again.
"That will be difficult," Saavik said. It took
considerable effort to make any headway through the deep,
soft snow. She trudged on.
"Why don't you just call for help!"
She looked at him. His demand was most
curious, the result, no doubt, of panic.
He knew her communicator was nothing but a local
transceiver. Grissom had been the only
Federation ship within its range. Whatever destroyed
it was the only ship she would reach if she called again.
David's reaction disturbed her greatly. He was
more frightened of remaining on the world he had created than
he was of transmitting a mayday that would be picked
up by enemies. He was more distressed by having to remain
in a paradise he had helped design than he was
by the
destruction of an entire ship and its crew.
tilde
"I have already made one transmission too many,"
she said.
David's shocked expression revealed his
comprehension. He did not ask her to call for help
again.
The snow ended as abruptly as it had begun. The
edge of the ice moved perceptibly, creeping and
grinding its way across the desert floor. Saavik
stepped out of cold and into abrupt, welcome heat.
She carried the
STAR TREK 111
child across a hundred meters of the waterworn
stones, to a place where he would be safe for at least
a few minutes. The snow on her hair and the ice
on her eyelashes melted quickly. Cold drops
slid down her face. She lowered-the child to the ground,
brushed away the dissolving snow with half-numbed
hands, and helped him to lie in a warm and sunny
spot.
David sank down nearby, drew his knees
to his chest, and laid his face against his folded arms.
Saavik sat on her heels beside him.
"David," she said gently.
He said nothing.
"David, it is time for truth between us." She put
her hands on his shoulders in what she hoped might be
a comforting gesture. But what did she know of comfort?
She was neither Vulcan, never needing comfort, never able
to give it, nor was she Romulan, able to give
full rein to her passions. "This planet is neither
what you intended nor what you hoped for, is it?"
David let his hands fall. "Not exactly,"
he said.
"Is it what you feared?"
"I didn't think this would happen to was
"But you have not been surprised by anything we have
discovered, no matter how bizarre."
"There was one set of equations, I wasn't quite
certain about them . . ."
"You were overruled by the other members of the Genesis
team?"
"I. . . I didn't want to make a big thing
of them. . ."
"Surely you pointed them out?"
"Why should I?" he snapped, on the defence.
"I'm a mere biochemist, as my young genius
physicist colleagues kept trying not to remind
me. If Madison and 182
The Search For Spock
March didn't think their creation was going to dissolve
back into protomatter his
"Protomatter!" Saavik exclaimed.
"David, you are saying the entire system is
unstable tilde and dangerously unpredictable! As
an ethical
scientist his
"It shouldn't have happened! It hasn't, yet,
maybe it won't. Maybe it wasn't a mistake
at all his
"And perhaps the ground tremors are in our minds,
and the harmonic vibrations we detected from Grissom
were instrument malfunction..." She shook her head.
"Oh, David."
"I just figured, if it worked out for fusion, it would
work out for us."
"What are you talking about?"
"The first time anybody started a fusion reaction the
first time on Earth, I mean. It was a bomb, of
course his
"Naturally," Saavik said.
"They didn't know for sure if they'd set off a
chain reaction of all.the hydrogen in the
atmosphere. But they took the chance. They did it
anyway."
"Indeed."
"Well, at least there's precedent."
"I am glad to see you are able to maintain your
sense of humor," Saavik said.
"Dammit, Saavik, if those equations weren't
right, the whole project collapsed permanently!
All I had was a suspicion, and it was a
suspicion about a probab tilde lity function
at that! There was only a one in a million chance that
the worst would happen even if the worst could happen.
Besides, if we'd tested Genesis the way we
intended to, instead of having it blown up by your
admiral's his
"Your father's his
was friend Mister Khan, there wouldn't have been
anybody on the planet to be in danger!"
STAR TREK In
"You did not tell your collaborators,"
Saavik said. "Even after detonation, you did not
tell Carol 9'
"If I had, it wouldn't be just us stuck here! Mother
would never have gone back to Earth, not if she'd known.
She'd have taken the whole responsibility on herself
. . . when it was mine to accept."
"Just like your father . . ." Saavik said sadly.
"You changed the rules." She knew now that
Genesis would never benefit anyone. It would never
create new resources, it would never provide a
new home for Frederic's people, it would only, ever,
cause grief and anguish and disaster.
"If I hadn't, it might have been years or
never!"
All Saavik could think was that if Genesis had
been delayed or abandoned, none of the recent events
would have happened. Reliant would never have visited the
world on which Khan Singh and his people were marooned. Khan
would never have obtained a starship. He would never have led
his people on his mission of vengeance. The scientists on
Spacelab would not have been murdered. The
Enterprise and its crew of children never would have been
attacked. Peter Preston would still be alive.
Genesis would not have existed to be used as a weapon,
and Mr. Spock would not have had to sacrifice his
existence to save his ship and his crewmates.
Spock would not have died.
Nor would he have been resurrected. The child
possessed the substance of her teacher, but he lacked
his mind, his experience, his individuality.
Saavik rose to her feet and stood
looking down at David. A dangerous fury
began to form.
"And how many have paid the price for your impatience?"
Saavik said. "How many have died? How much damage
have you caused and what is yet to come"...'9
The Search For Spock
He raised his head. His belligerence dissolved in
grief and anguish, but Saavik was still too close
to the madness to forgive him. She fled from him, her
fists clenched so hard that her nails cut into her
palms. When she had run a hundred paces she
stopped.
Saavik cried out to the dying world, a long, hoarse
shriek of rage and pain.
For a jail cell, it was not half bad.
Leonard McCoy lay on the bunk with his arm
flung across his eyes.
The bunk was no wider than his shoulders, the
floor was badly worn, grey, spongy linoleum,
and he could not turn out the lights, but, still, it was not
too bad. For a jail cell.
McCoy felt quite calm and rational and single-
minded, despite having been forbidden any
tranquilizers. After he had prowled the
cell, pacing back and forth and inspecting every crack and
corner of it, after he had come to the conclusion that he could
not escape (that was the one other thing wrong with it, of
course he could not pass through the open doorway; the
force field threw him back into the room at every
try, more forcefully and more painfully each time. But,
then, it was a jail cell), the compulsion to return
to the Mutara Sector and Genesis had vanished as
suddenly and completely as it had appeared.
He wondered about that. It seemed Uke a
terribly logical reaction to have....
McCoy dozed off.
"You got a visitor, Doc."
McCoy started out of troubled sleep, wondering
where he was and how he had gotten there, and then
remembering. Not a dream, after all. Too bad.
"Make it quick, Admiral," the guard said.
"They're moving him to the Federation funny farm."
STAR TREK 111
McCoy peered sideways from beneath his arm and saw
the guard and Jim Kirk standing outlined by the force
field. Jim shook his head sadly.
"Yes, my poor friend," he said. "I hear
he's fruity as a nutcake."
Oh, you do, do you? McCoy thought. A "funny
farm," eh? Is that the kind of respect anybody
with a few problems gets in here? Besides, I know my
rights they can't send me anywhere without a hearing.
However, they had put him in here without a hearing.
Genesis had not onl y frightened the Federation and
Starfleet, it had put them into a total panic.
McCoy wondered what would happen when Jim
called his lawyer for him, as McCoy intended to ask
him to do. He wondered if the administration of this
prison would even admit to an attorney that he was
here.
"Two minutes," the guard said.
McCoy watched the grid of the force field dim
and fade. He had to struggle against the sudden compulsion
to leap up and try to fight his way out. Since the
guard was head and shoulders taller than he, and armed
at that, such a course was definitely not logical.
As Jim stepped inside the cell, the urge
diminished in proportion to the strength of the reappearing
energy barrier.
Jim knelt beside the cot.
"Jim '9 McCoy said.
"Shh." He raised his hand, shielding it from the
surveillance camera. "How many fingers?"
His fingers parted in the Vulcan salute.
"That's not very damned funny," McCoy said.
"Good," said Jim. "Your sense of humor has
returned." He reached into his pocket.
"The hell it has!" Two minutes, and Jim
wanted to spend it trading one-liners. McCoy
wanted a lawyer and he wanted out of here. It was
ridiculous to maintain the pretence of being
asleep, so he sat up.
The Search For Spock
Jim drew out a spray injector.
McCoy frowned. "What's that?"
"Lexorin."
"Lexorin! What for?"
"You're suffering from a Vulcan mind-meld,
Doctor."
"Speck ?"', -- -- -
6'That's right."
"That green-blooded, pointy-eared son of a
bitch. It's his revenge for all those arguments he
lost his
"Give me your arm. This will make you well enough
to travel." He fumbled around with the automatic
hypo, putting himself in considerable danger of
shooting himself in the hand. "How do you do this, anyway?"
"Give it here," McCoy said. He took the
hypo and pushed up his own sleeve. "This once,
Admiral, you're beyond your capabilities."
Outside the prison, Hikaru Sulu ran his
hands through his hair to muss it, tucked one side of his
ruffled civilian shirt in and left the other free,
hyperventilated for a few breaths, and, when he thought
he had a properly flustered air about him, flung
open the door and rushed into the reception area. The
two guards looked up from their card game, startled
by the appearance of another visitor so late at
night.
"Where's Admiral Kirk?" Sulu said
urgently.
One of the guards looked him up and down.
"He's with a prisoner. What's it to you?"
"Get him quickly! Starfleet Commander
Morrow wants him right now!"
The guard snorted with irritation, glanced at his
partner and shrugged, laid his cards aside, and fumbled
around for his electronic key. He vanished into the
cell block. His partner glanced speculatively
at the face
187
STAR TREK Ill
down cards, glanced at Sulu with unconcealed
disdain, and flipped his partner's poker hand face up.
Then, watching Sulu with a faint sneer, he turned
the cards back over.
Sulu simply watched as if he saw men cheat
their partners every day and thought nothing of it. It was to his
advantage if the guard assumed he was a powerless
flunky.
The guard stretched and yawned.
"Keeping you busy?" Sulu said to the big man.
"Don't get smart, Tiny."
Sulu frowned. He had to remind himself forcibly
that he was supposed to be someone's messenger boy.
"This man is sick! Look at him!" Kirk's
muffled voice came from beyond the cell-block door.
The guard heard, too, and rose to his feet.
Sulu took a step forward, ready to distract him.
The console did the job for him.
The signal buzzed insistently. The guard
frowned, glanced at the cell block door, and
snatched up the receiver. Sulu relaxed, centered
himself, and waited. These few minutes were crucial.
A glitch now could destroy the whole plan.
"Sixth floor holding," the guard said.
He listened to his earphone. "Yeah, come on up and
get him, his visitor's just leaving.... What? Some
admiral, name of Kirk."
Sulu could hear the squawk of protest from the
receiver. He also heard a crash and thud from within the
cell block, but the guard was too distracted
to notice.
"How the hell am I supposed to know that?" the
guard snarled. "He's a damned admiraWill!
All right!" He flung down the earpiece and headed
for the door. He heard the commotion beyond.
Me Search For Spock
The door to the cell block opened and Admiral
Kirk stepped through, supporting Dr. McCoy.
"What the hell is going on?"
Sulu tapped the guard on the shoulder.
"Dammit, I told you was The guard swung
toward him, punching at Sulu's head as he
turned.
Sulu stepped into and around the strike, cutting down
with his hands to redirect the force of the blow. As the big
man stumbled forward,
off-balance, Sulu drew him in, pivoted, and
spiraled him up. The guard ran out from under
himself, and Sulu completed the spiral into the ground.
The wall interposed itself. Sulu's opponent hit
it with a thud a hollow thud, Sulu fancied and
slid slowly and limply to the floor.
The form had not been perfect for yokomenuchi
iriminage, and throwing one's partner into the wall was rather
bad form. But, then, this was the real world.
Besides, Sulu hated to be teased about his height.
Sulu glanced up. Kirk was watching
appreciatively.
"The side elevator," Sulu said. "Agents
on their way up."
Kirk nodded. He and McCoy hurried out the
side door. Sulu paused by the master console.
He reached beneath it, sought out the central processor,
and applied the confuser he had put together. A moment
later it rewarded him with a small fireworks display
and the acrid smell of.burned semiconductors.
Sulu started after Kirk. He reached the door,
paused, and glanced down at the unconscious guard.
"Don't call me 'tiny,"" he said.
Someone should have told the man that in Sulu's chosen
martial art, being short was an advantage.
Sulu caught up to Kirk and McCoy and
helped support the doctor.
"I'm all right," the doctor muttered. But he
did not
STAR TREK 111
try to pull away. He was steadier than the last
time Sulu had seen him. Apparently Sarek's
lexorin had worked.
Admiral Kirk pulled out his communicator and
flipped it open.
"Unit two, this is one. The Kobayashi Maru
has set sail for the promised land. Acknowledge."
"Message acknowledged," Chekov replied, his
voice sounding tinny from the small speaker. "All
units will be informed."
Kirk closed his communicator. McCoy
seemed to gain strength from the interchange and, perhaps, from
regaining his freedom. He cocked his eyebrow at
Kirk.
"You're taking me to the promised land?"
"What are friends for?" said Kirk.
On board Excelsior, Montgomery Scott
waited for the turbo-lift. He kept his hand thrust
deep in his pocket. The sharp corners of a small
and nondescript chunk of semiconductor,
elegant only at the microscopic
level, bit into his palm.
The lift arrived, the doors slid open, and
Captain Styles stepped out. Scott started. He
had not expected to see anyone, particularly not
Captain Styles. He managed to greet the
officer civilly; technically, after all, Styles
was his superior officer.
Superior officer, indeed, Scott thought
angrily. Taking this ship from our own Mr. Sulu
with nae a second thought nor a protest. "Tis
nae thing superior in that.
"Ah, Mr. Scott," Styles said. "Calling
it a night?"
"Aye, Captain, yes," Scott said, trying
to maintain his frozen smile.
"Turning in myself. Don't know if I'll be able
to sleep, though I'm looking forward to breaking some of the
Enterprise's speed records tomorrow."
"Aye, sir," Scott said through clenched teeth.
The Search For Spock
"Good night." Scott got into the lift. As
soon as the doors slid closed between him and
Styles, he scowled.
His whole time on Excelsior had been
like a replay of the arguments he had had with Mr.
Sulu about the ship. Only this time, Scott lost
most of the arguments. Scott would never admit it
to Sulu, but Excelsior was, indeed, a
miracle of engineering. He had expected it to be
full of complications, but its systems were elegantly
integrated, clean, and nearly flawless. Scott,
of course, had been looking for the flaws.
"Level, please," the ship's computer said.
There were a few things on the ship that Scott did
not like, such as the faintly insolent baritone voice
of the computer. Had he the charge of Excelsior, that
would change.
"Transporter room," he said.
"Thank you," said the computer.
"Up your shaft!"
The lift jerked into motion.
"Temper, temper," Scott said.
Saavik and David struggled up the steep
flank of the mountain, seeking a vantage point from which
to watch for other survivors of Grissom. David
believed it was at least possible that a few others
might have had enough warning to escape. He knew
Saavik thought the possibility unlikely, but she
had not tried to persuade him it was
impossible. In fact, she had barely spoken to him
since his confession about Genesis. When he suggested
they climb to higher ground, she merely shrugged,
picked up the Vulcan boy, and started toward the
mountain that rose abruptly from the surrounding desert.
"Are you mad at me?" David asked
hesitantly.
She kept on climbing. But after another twenty
STAR TREK lll
meters she said, "Were I to permit the less
civilised part of my character to dictate my reactions,
I would be infuriated with you."
"I had to do it!" David said. "It shouldn't have
put anyone in danger, and if it worked his
"Yes," she said. "So you have said."
"I knew if I told you, I'd lose you as
my friend," David said, despondent.
Saavik stopped and laid the Vulcan boy down
gently in the shade of a tree, out of the penetrating
blue-white sunlight. Then she faced David and
took his hands in hers.
"You have not lost me as a friend," sh e said.
"But you must hate me, after all this!"
"I am angry," she said, not bothering
to conceal her feelings behind a philosophical
comparison of Vulcans and Romulans, no longer
trying to claim that she did not possess those feelings
at all. "If I understand them properly, anger and
hatred are two very different emotions. And again, if
I understand correctly it is unusual to hate a
person that one loves."
"Saavik was He tightened his grasp on her
hands.
"Perhaps I am not capable of love, as humans
know it," Saavik said. "But as you cannot explain it,
I am free to define it for myself. I choose
to define it as the feelings that I have for you."
She looked into his eyes. She felt in his
wrists his cool, strong pulse. She drew her
hands up his arms, to his shoulders, to the sides of his
face. He moved toward her and put his arms around
her. She kissed him. David felt as if he were
dissolving in a white-hot flame, or tumbling
unprotected through a solar flare.
Saavik drew away.
"We must go on," she said. "We cannot stay here."
As she started toward the Vulcan boy, she heard
The Search For Spock
strange sound. She glanced back the way they had
come.
"David," she said with wonder, "look."
Far below, the glacier lapped at the foot of the
mountain, surging up in slow-motion waves. As
David and Saavik watched, the ice crept
forward, piling and folding and crushing itself against
immovable stone, squealing and cracking and shrieking.
The ice had completely engulfed the desert,
inundating it like a silver flood.
Scott materialised in the dark. He hated being
transported into darkness.
"Chekov?" he whispered.
"Welcome home, Mr. Scott," Chekov
said.
"Strasvuitche, tovarisch."
"None o" your heathen gibberish, Chekov,"
Scott said. "How did ye get on board?"
"We have ways," Chekov said.
"Which ways, in particular?"
"Partner of "Unit three" was taking
advantage of her good nature, was late for job.
Will be more difficult for "Unit one.""
"All right," Scott said. "Let's get some
life in tee this old tub." He squinted
across the transporter room of the Enterprise. He
could barely make out Chekov's hands in the faint
glow of the console's controls.
"How was trip?" Chekov said.
"Short," Scott said. "Let's get to work."
Uhura replied to the ten P.m. check.
"Roger. Old City Station at twenty-two
hundred hours. All is well."
She made a few adjustments to the controls of the
Earth-based transporter to which she had been as193
STAR TREK 111
signed. This was a peaceful posting; she had been
here since four this evening and, officially, she had
transported no one in or out. The schedule listed
no travelers officially for the rest of the night.
She became aware that Lieutenant Heisenberg
was watching her closely, with a slight frown of
curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, his hands
clasped behind his head and his feet up on the console.
"You amaze me, Commander," he said.
"How is that?" she said mildly.
"You're a twenty-year space veteran yet you
ask for the worst duty station in town. I mean, look
at it this is the hind end of space."
"Oh, peace and quiet appeal to me,
Lieutenant."
UhuMore smiled a private smile.
"Maybe it's okay for someone like you, whose career
is winding down."
Uhura raised an eyebrow at that remark, but
let it pass.
"But me," Heisenberg said, "I need some
challenge in my life. Some adventure. Even just
a surprise or two."
"You know what they say, Lieutenant. Be
careful what you ask for you may get it."
"I wish," he said with feeling.
Uhura glanced at the clock. She had tried
to persuade Heisenberg to go home early, on the
grounds that there was hardly enough work for one person, let
alone two. Unfortunately, he had declined.
Apparently he felt slightly guilty about
arriving an hour late. She wished he would choose
some other day to make it up, but that was life.
The door slid open.
Admiral Kirk, Dr. McCoy, and
Captain Sulu entered and headed straight for the
transporter platform with
The Search For Spock
out a pause. Kirk appeared intent, but intent
on something and somewhere else, distracted from this place and
time. McCoy looked exhausted, but steady.
Sulucaught Uhura's gaze and offered her his
unshadowed smile.
"I talked to Sarek," Uhura heard Kirk
say softly to McCoy. "I'm worried about him,
Bones. The strain on him his
Heisenberg dropped his feet to the floor and sat
up very straight in his chair.
"Gentlemen," Uhura said. "Good evening."
"Good evening, Commander," Admiral Kirk said.
"Everything ready?"
"Yes, Admiral." She swept her hand through the
air in a gesture of welcome. "Step into my
pallor."
Uhura saw Heisenberg's jaw go agape as
he recognized the travelers. He was the one
factor of uncertainty in this equation. She hoped
he would behave sensibly. She began setting
controls.
"Commander," he whispered, "these are some of the most
famous people in Starfleet. Admiral Kirk! My
godst"
"Good for you, Lieutenant," she said.
"But it's damned irregular no orders, no
encoded i.d. his
"All true," she said agreeably.
Heisenberg glanced over her shoulder and frowned
at the settings she had entered.
"That's the Enterprise, was he said in a low and
worried voice.
"And another one for you, Lieutenant. You're
doing very well tonight."
"But the Enterprise is sealed we can't beam
anybody directly on board!"
"Can't we?"
STAR TREK 111
"No, we can't It's directly against orders,
we can't just let people waltz in here and go on board a
sealed ship, no matter who they are!"
Uhura was rather glad he was making the objection, for
in the long run it would serve to keep him out of trouble.
"What are we going to do about it?" he exclaimed.
"I'm going to do nothing about it. You're going to sit
in the closet."
"The closet!" He backed off from her. "Have you
lost all sense of reality?"
"But this isn't reality, Lieutenant,"
she said sweetly. "This is fantasy." She drew
out her concealed pocket phaser and levered it at him.
It was set on stun, of course, but stun was more than
sufficient for this exercise. She hoped Heisenberg
would not make her use it. Waking up from phaser stun
was rather unpleasant. Uhura wished him neither harm
nor physical discomfort. His psychic discomfort,
though, was anoth er thing entirely. She owed him a little
psychic discomfort, after that snarky remark about her
career.
"You wanted adventure?" she asked. "How's
this? Got your old adrenaline going?"
Heisenberg nodded.
"Good boy," she said. "Now get in the
closet."
She touched a key and the door to the storage
doset, just behind him, slid open. She gestured with the
phaser and he backed into it.
"Wait his
She closed the door.
"I'm glad you're on our side," McCoy
said.
She smiled.
"Let's go," Kirk said. "Uhura, is it on
automatic? Come on, get up here."
"No," she said.
The Search For Spock
It took him a second to realize what she had
said. His expression changed from distraction
to amazement.
""No"?" he said. "What do you mean,
"no"?"
"I realize that the Admiral is . . . somewhat
unfamiliar with the word his
Kirk opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him
off.
was but somebody's got to stay behind and put enough
glitches in communications so you don't have every ship in
the sector coming after you."
"You can do it from the Enterprise his
"No, I can't. It's too easy to jam.
Admiral, there's no time to argue! Prepare
to energise!"
"What about ?" He gestured toward the closet.
"Don't worry about Mr. Adventure. I'll
have him eating out of my hand." If I have to, she
thought. "Go with all my hopes, my friends."
Kirk nodded, acquiescing. "Energize."...ment
She activated the beam.
fit
Chapter 9
After the figures of Kirk, Sulu, and
McCoy turned to sparks and vanished, Heisenberg
started pounding on the inside of the closet door.
Uhura ignored him and set to work opening the
communications channels that she would need to interfere
with as soon as Spacedock realized what was going
on.
Uhura was in her element at the console. She
infiltrated every important communications channel
between headquarters and the fleet. By the time the tangle
got straightened out, the Enterprise would be halfway
to Genesis. If the ship could evade any pursuit
sent directly from Spacedock, then Admiral
Kirk should be able to carry out his mission. If it could
be carried out.
Sulu felt his body form around his
consciousness, and then he was standing on the bridge of the
Enterprise with Kirk and McCoy solidifying beside
him. The ship's
The Search For Spock
systems were running at standby level,
and the bridge felt very empty with only five people.
At the navigation console, Chekov raised his hand in
greeting. Scott rose from the command chair to greet
Kirk.
"As promised, 'tis all yours, sir," he
said. "All systems automated and ready. A
chimpanzee and two trainees could run her."
"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Kirk said
drily. "I'll try not to take that personally."
He drew aside, with McCoy, and faced the other
three. "My friends," he said. "I can't ask you to go
any farther. Dr. McCoy and I have to do this. The
rest of you do not."
Taking the Enterpnse to Genesis would require a
good deal more than "a chimpanzee and two
trainees," and everyone on the bridge knew it.
Sulu strode down the steps and took his place at
the helm. Yesterday he had made a decision on
where to place his loyalties. He saw no reason
to change his mind now.
"Admiral," Chekov said, "we're losing
precious time."
"What course, please, Admiral?" Sulu
said, entering a course for the Mutara sector. -
Kirk glanced from Chekov, to Sulu,
to Scott.
"Mr. Scott ?"
"I'd be grateful, Admiral, if ye'd
give the word."
Kirk hesitated, then nodded sharply. "My word
is given. Gentlemen, may the wind be at our
backs. Stations, please!"
Kirk took his own place in the command seat.
"Clear all moorings...."
Sulu centered his attention on the impulse
engines. They had not, of course, received the overhaul
Scott had wished to give them, and they responded
hesitantly, irritably, erratically, just as they
had on the way in. The warp drive would be equally
rocky.
STAR TREK 111
The ship backed hesitantly from its slip and
swung toward the entrance of Spacedock.
"Engage auto systems," Kirk said. "One
quarter impulse power."
The Enterprise reached the berth in which Excelsior
lay. Sulu gave the new ship a single glance and
pushed the longing, and the
temptation for regret, out of his mmd.
Sulu started hearing consternation over the communications
channels, as sensors and alarms and Starfleet
personnel on late-night watch began
to realizewhat was happening. The Enterprise drifted
like a ghost ship past Excelsior, toward the huge
closed spacedoors. He heard the beginning of a command
to secure them, a command that was abruptly and rudely
cut off by a screech of static. A moment later a
raucous voice spilled over the channel. Sulu
recognized the voice of a popular comedian.
He grinned. Everything Uhura did, she did with
flair and humor. Crossing Starfleet channels
with those of a system-wide entertainment network might
well produce an interesting hybrid.
Quite, as Spock would have said, fascinating.
"One minute to spacedoors," Sulu said.
McCoy fidgeted on the upper bridge
level.
"You just gonna walk through them?"
"Calm yourself, Bones," Kirk said.
"Sir," Chekov said, "Starfleet Commander
Morrow, on emergency channel. He orders you
to surrender vessel."
"No reply, Mr. Chekov. Maintain your
course."
Sulu set the communications monitor to steady
scan. At one channel it paused long enough for him
to hear, "What the hell do you mean, yellow alert?
How can you have a yellow alert in Spacedock?"
The Search For Spock
The soundtrack of an old movie cut off the
reply "Who are those guys"?"
The one thing Uhura could not do was prevent people on
Spacedock from seeing what was
happening. Everyone at the space station knew the
Enterprise was being decommissioned. By now they would have
begun to notice something distinctly odd.
"Thirty seconds to spacedoors," Sulu said.
"Sir, Excelsior is powering up with orders
to pursue," Chekov said.
Sulu switched the viewscreen to an aft scan.
They all watched Excelsior come alive,
preparing for the chase.
"My gods," McCoy said. "It's gaining on
us just sitting there."
Sulu switched back to a forward scan. The
spacedoors filled the viewscreen completely.
"Steady, steady," Kirk said. "All right,
Mr. Scott?"
"Sir ?" Scott answered distractedly, for his
concentration was fixed on smoothing out his infiltration
routine.
"The doors, Mr. Scott."
"Aye, sir, workin' on it."
Sulu had his hands on the controls to apply full
reverse thrust when the doors finally cracked open and
revealed the bright blackness of space beyond. The
doors slid aside for the bow of the Enterprise. With a
handsbreadth to spare, they were free.
"We have cleared spacedoors," Sulu said.
"Full impulse power!"
Sulu laid it on. The Enterprise shuddered and
plunged ahead.
Behind them, Excelsior burst out into space.
Uhura had left the channels clean enough for the
Enterprise to know what was going on, but she was also
STAR TREK 111
insuring that no ship could be sent after them by radio
or subspace communications.
All they had to do was elude Excelsior.
"Excelsior closing to four thousand meters,
sir," Chekov said.
"Mr. Scott," Kirk said, "we
need everything you've got now."
"Aye, sir. Warp drive standing by."
"Kirk!" Captain Styles' voice burst through
the chatter and static. "Kirk, you do this and you'll
never sit in a captain's chair again!"
Kirk ignored him; Sulu gritted his teeth.
In the background of the channel he could hear
Excelsior preparing to apply a tractor beam.
"Warp speed, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said.
"Warp speed."
The ship collected itself and lurched into warp.
Excelsior's communications switched
to subspace.
"No way, Kirk," Styles said. "We'll
meet you coming back! Prepare for warp speed! Stand
by transwarp drive!"
Damned showoff, Sulu thought. Excelsior could
catch the Enterprise with warp speed alone; with
transwarp it would overshoot its quarry and, indeed,
have to come back to meet it.
As the Enterprise struggled toward the Mutara
sector, Sulu aimed the visual sensors aft.
On the viewscreen, the tiny point of light that was
Excelsior shone white behind them. Scott watched
with a selfsatisfied smirk. Sulu
glanced at Scott, and wondered.
Excelsior's aura blue-shifted as the new
ship accelerated toward them.
The blue-shift died, and the ship's light reddened
as the Enterprise accelerated away from it. Sulu's
sensors revealed Excelsior to be intact, but
without power. He 202
. .
The Search For Spock
felt more than a little ambivalent about what was
happening.
"Excelsior is adrift in space," he said.
When Captain Styles' call for a tow came
through from Excelsior, Uhura intercepted and
damped it, feeling considerable satisfaction.
Take over Hikaru's ships will you? she thought.
You can just sit there and stew for a while.
"Commander, let me out of here!"
She ignored Heisenberg's shouts and his
pounding on the door, until she was afraid he was
making so much noise that someone else would come along and
hear him.
"Heisenberg!" she shouted. "Shut up!"
"Let me out! What the hell is going on?"
"If you don't be quiet I'll use
this phaser on you!" She continued working. Some of the
safeguards had come into play against her. Each
new disruption was increasingly difficult
to accomplish. Tracers had already been sent out. She
had only a few minutes left before she must flee,
if she were to complete one final
self-appointed task before the authorities
caught up with her. She did not doubt that by this time tomorrow
she would be in jail.
"Commander," Heisenberg said, not shouting this time.
"What's going on? Maybe I can help."
She stopped replying; she had enough already to occupy
her attention.
"Commander Uhura, please, if you'd just told me
his
He sounded sincere, but she did not know him well
enough to know how good an act he could put on. Besides,
she needed no help. If he was looking for
excitement, he would surely find it if she let
him out of the closet he would find it for a few
minutes, and 203
STAR TREK 111
perhaps spend the rest of his life regretting it, or
trying to make up for it. The best thing she could do for
him was leave him where he was. That way, it
would be clear to Starfleet that he had nothing to do with
helping James Kirk steal the Enterprise.
Heisenberg might find himself embarrassed to be
locked up by an officer whose career was winding down .
. . but it would be less embarrassing than a
court-martial.
She had done what she could here. She set the
transporter controls on automatic. Starfleet
would be able to trace her by the coordinates on the
console, but by then she hoped it would not matter.
"Heisenberg!" she said.
"What?" he said irritably.
"Somebody will be along to let you out in a few
minutes. I'm sorry I had to lock you up,
Lieutenant. It was for your own good."
"Yeah, sure."
Uhura stepped up on the transporter and
dematerial tilde zed.
Mr. Scott paused behind Sulu, at the helm.
On the viewscreen, Excelsior dwindled and
vanished behind them.
"I dinna damage thy ship permanently,
lad," Scott said softly.
Sulu glanced up. What to do to Excelsior had
been left up to Scott, and it was a
relief for Sulu to know the change was temporary.
He nodded, grateful for the reassurance.
"Mr. Scott," Kirk said, "you're as good as
your word."
"Aye, sir. The more they overthink the
plumbin', the easier it is to stop up the drain."
There are always a few flaws in a new
application of technology, Sulu thought.
The Search For Spock
"Here, doctor," Scott said to McCoy. He
took his hand out of his pocket and handed McCoy a
dull grey wafer. "A souvenirs as one surgeon
to another."
McCoy accepted it. His hand shook slightly.
He clearly had no idea what it was.
"I took it out o' Excelsior's main
transwarp computer," Scott said. "I knew
Styles surely wouldna be able to resist trying it
out."
"Nice of you to tell me in advance," McCoy
said.
Kirk hooked his arm over the back of his command
chair. "That's what you get for missing staff
meetings, doctor," he said. He
surveyed the bridge, taking in everyone.
"Gentlemen, your work today was outstanding. I intend to
recommend you all for promotion." His voice
turned wry as he added, "In whatever fleet we
end up serving."
Sulu caught Chekov's glance.
"In fleet of ore-carriers of Antares
Prison Mine," Chekov said, only loud enough for
Sulu to hear.
Kirk stood and laid his hand on Sulu's
shoulder.
"Best speed to Genesis, Mr. Sulu,"
Kirk said.
Uhura had never visited the Vulcan
embassy. The stately building stood in a
genteel
neighborhood in the city, on a hilltop
overlooking the sea. The ocean was black and silver
in the dark; the moon was one night past full.
Uhura materialised on the sidewalk in front
of the ambassador's residence, for it was protected
against penetration by unauthorized transporter beams.
She walked into the pool of light around the gate and
pressed the buzzer.
"Yes?" The video screen tucked
discreetly into a recess in the stone pillar remained
featureless. The tiny camera next to it, poin ting
directly at her, was surely in use.
STAR TREK 111
"I would like to speak with Ambassador Sarek,"
she said.
"The ambassador cannot see visitors this evening.
You may make an appointment and
return during reception hours."
"But it's urgent," Uhura said.
"What is your request?"
"It's private," she said, remembering how
reticent Spock had always been about his
background and his family.
"Sarek is occupied," the faceless voice said.
"I cannot disturb him unless I know your name and your
business."
"I am Commander Uhura, from the starship
Enterprise, was she said. "You may tell
Ambassador Sarek that my business . . .
concerns Genesis."
"Wait," said the emotionless voice.
She waited.
She could feel the minutes ticking
away, minutes during which her trail would be traced.
She knew the process well enough to be able
to estimate just how quickly the trace could be done, and
when that amount of time had passed she began to listen for the
shining satin sound of a transporter beam. Fog
rolled in from the sea. She shivered.
She touched the signal button again.
"We respectfully request that you wait." The
voice had so little inflection that she wondered if it
came from a machine, and a machine poorly
programmed for Standard at that.
"I'll be forced to go, soon," she said. "If I
can't see Sarek I must leave him a message but
I'd prefer to speak to him in private. It will
only take a moment!"
"Please contain your emotions."
She wanted to kick the gatepost, that was how
The Search For Spock
contained her emotions were. But she knew it would do
her no good, and probably break her foot as
well.
She heard a transporter beam, very near. She
pressed herself against the stone gatepost, trying to conceal
herself in the shadows. She could not hide from the
materialising security team for long. She had
considered transporting to some other location and
proceeding here on foot, but they would have deduced where
she was heading. They probably would have arrived before she
did.
She pressed the call-button again.
"We respectfully request that you wait," the
flat voice said again.
"I'm about to be taken," she said. "Please
tell Sarek his
The gates swung slowly open. The distance to the
residence was about a hundred meters, and the hundred
meters was her distance. She
plunged inside just as the security team reached
her. They chased her across the dark grounds of the
Vulcan embassy. She outraced them to the
residence, to no avail. The door remained
closed. She turned.
One of the security officers strode up the stairs
and took her arm.
"Please come with us, Commander. It'll be a lot
easier if you don't make any fuss."
"I'll come with you if you'll just give me ten
minutes to speak with Ambassador Sarek. It's
desperately important!"
The security officer shook her head. "I'm
sorry," she said. "That's impossible. It's
directly against orders."
She led Uhura down the stairs and halfway
back to the gate.
"Do your orders include invading the sovereign
territory of an allied power?"
STAR TREK 111
Sarek had crossed the distance between them and the wide
steps of the embassy with such long and silent strides
that no one had seen him approach. His commanding
presence was
accentuated by his long black cape, his drawn,
intense features, his dark and deepset eyes.
To Uhura he looked as if he had neither eaten
nor slept since word of Spock's death reached
him.
The head of the security team blushed scarlet,
knowing she had overstepped her authority. She put the
best face on it that she could.
"That was not our intention, sir," she said. "Several
people from the last mission of the Enterprise have shown. . .
evidence of severe mental difficulties. We're
trying to get them to treatment. If you'll
give me leave to take Commander Uhura to the
hospital his
"I will do no such thing. Commander Uhura has
requested political asylum, and I have granted
it. I give you leave to remove yourselves from the
embassy grounds."
The security officer stood her ground and spoke
to Uhura. "Commander, is this what you want? It could
mean exile. But we might all be able to get out of
this pretty clean. If I give you your ten
minutes off the record will you come with us?"
Ubura considered it, but she had burned too many
bridges today.
"No," she said. "I'm staying here."
The security commander took a deep breath and let
it out slowly. "Very well." She turned to Sarek.
"My government will contact you
immediately with a formal request for extradition."
"That is up to your government. Good evening."
The security commander led the team from the grounds of the
embassy, and the gate closed behind them.
The Search For Spock
"Thank you, sir," Uhura said. She was shivering
violently. "I came to tell you his
"Come inside, Commander," he said. "There is no
need to stand in the cold and the damp . . . and in
public . . . for our conversation."
Kruge materialised on the surface of the
Genesis world, near enough to the high-order life signs
to track them, but far enough away that they would remain
ignorant of his arrival, and he could come upon them
unawares. At his side, Warrigul appeared,
shivering with excitement and whining, but whining almost
soundlessly. The beast had been trained to recognize
potential combat and to behave in a suitable manner.
If Kruge ordered Warrigul to attack, the
attack would be silent.
The commander inspected the glade as his serjeant and
crew member materialised behind him. The place
pleased him, with-its dark earth smelling of mould, the
tall-stalked plants that bore drooping, leathery
leaves, the heat and actinic brightness of the brilliant
new sun.
Kruge pulled out his tricorder and scanned with
it. He located the metallic mass around which so much
activity had lately centered. It lay deeper in
the glade, perhaps fifty paces. Some minor life
signs surrounded it, but the signs lacked the high
order that would betray the presence of the
prisoners he hoped to take. Still, they had been
there, so there he would go too, and pick up their
trail.
He set off between the gnarled stalks of the leather
plants. Warrigul padded along at his side; the
serjeant and the crew member brought up the rear.
- The ground began to quiver. Kruge stopped.
The
quake intensified, till the leather plants all
swayed and
thumped together with a low and hollow sound. A
STAR TREK In
frond broke away from its stalk, making a
heavy liquid crunching noise, and the long thick
leaf thudded to the ground like some dying thing at the dead-end
of its evolution.
As the earthquake reached its peak, Kruge heard
a long and high-pitched hissing shriek, like nothing he
had ever heard before. He started toward the noise,
striding steadily across the rocking surface. He
made note, for future use, of the fact that his two
subordinates did not follow him till the quake
ceased and he was a good twenty paces ahead of them.
Only Warrigul stayed with him.
He nearly stumbled over his pet when it
stopped short, took a step backward, and
growled.
The thick gray-green vegetation thinned
slightly, letting a sharp white column of
sunlight pierce the canopy to illuminate the
Federation torpedo casing that had engendered so much
interest.
All around its base, like the monsters in the story
of Ngarakkani, a myth of Kruge's people, writhed
a great mass of sleek scaled creatures. The
creatures saw him, or smelled him, or felt the
vibration of his footsteps, and rose up in a
many-headed tangle to hiss and scream.
Kruge heard the sergeant whisper a
protective curse. Kruge smiled to himself,
gestured to Warrigul to sit and stay, and strode
toward the casket. He ignored all but the largest
of the creatures, which had squirmed to the top of the
torpedo tube and coiled there. It raised its head,
weaved toward him and away, hissed, and
squealed a challenge. It reached as high as his
shoulder.
He stepped into its sudden strike and grasped its
throat, then drew it from the slithering group
and raised it up to inspect it. It twisted in his
hands. Seve
others coiled around his boots. He ignored them,
as he ignored his two companions, though he was
aware of 210
The Search For Spock
everything, most particularly including the impression
the scene must be making. Iike the hero
Ngarakkani, he would wrestle with the demons and
defeat them.
The creature whipped its long lashing tail around
his neck and began to squeeze. Kruge thought
to unwind it from him, but its strength exceeded his. The
harsh scales of its belly cut into his throat,
squeezing the breath out of him. Darkness slipped
slowly down around him.
The creature had tricked him into going on the
defensive. He let its body tighten around him;
he turned to the attack. He grabbed its throat with
both his hands and squeezed. He began to twist.
He heard its bones begin to crunch. As he
began to lose consciousness, its strength suddenly
dissipated and it sagged away from him.
He cast the limply writhing body to the ground.
His subordinates gazed upon him with
awe. He intensified their reaction by ignoring it.
He tsked to Warrigul, who leapt up and sprang
to his side, snarling at the twitching body of the
creature.
Kruge pulled out his communicator.
"Torg," he said easily, "I have found nothing
of consequence. I am continuing the search."
- David sat forlornly on a stone
outcropping. His
world spread out around his vantage point. It was
beautiful. It was strange, and growing stranger. It
was
destroying itself. The vines back on Regulus
I had been
a warning that he should have heeded, as he should have heeded
the rogue equation in the primary Genesis
description. Evolution was running wild . Each
species
was growing and changing and aiming for its own extinction,
without creating any diversity, any new forms,
to take over when the old died out. Not that it
much mattered. If his estimates were right, the
evolu211
STAR TREK In
tionary process would be only about
half done when the more violent geological
processes tore the whole planet apart. Soon
after that, the subatomic attractions would break
down, and the entire mass of what had been the Mutara
Nebula, what had been Genesis and its new star
system, would degenerate into a homogeneous, gaseous
blob, a fiery, structureless plasma
protomatter.
His shadow stretched far down the hillside as the
sun set behind him. Night approached, a dark
border overwhelming day. It reached the edge of
Spock's glade. The group of delicate
fern-trees had grown and coarsened, turning from a
patch of feathery emerald green to a smudge of
bulbous gray, just in the few hours since he had
left it.
He and Saavik had found a vantage point, but
so far David had detected no sign of other
intelligent life. His tricorder showed nothing, but
it was of limited range. He had heard nothing over
his communicator; if anyone else had fled
Grissom before it was shot down, they were as
reluctant to broadcast their presence to their
attackers as was David. Perhaps they were listening
to each other's static.
More likely, no one else had survived. But
until he was sure, he was keeping his communicator
set to the Federation emergency channel.
Night fell quickly on Genesis. The land below the
promontory had grown too dark for David to see
anyone, friendly or malevolent. Darkness
obscured' everything, even the field of silver ice
now covering the desert, nearly surrounding the glade,
and grinding away at the base of the mountain itself.
David rose and trudged back up the hill.
Gnarled black trees with twisting exposed roots
loomed over him, and great broken slabs of stone
projected from the ground. Soon
The Search For Spock
he reached the narrow, hidden cave they had stumbled
upon.
He stepped inside, expecting the pale steady
illumination of the camp light from Saavik's kit.
Instead he encountered darkness.
"Saavik ?" he whispered, but before her name had
passed his lips she had uncovered the light again.
She held her phaser aimed straight at him. She
let her hand fall.
"Your footsteps . . . sounded
different," she said, in explanation and apology.
She put the phaser away again. "This place is
most discomforting."
The Vulcan child whimpered. He lay huddled on
a bed of tree branches, his face to the stone wall.
Saavik had laid her coat over him. She
turned to him, touched his shoulder, and said a word or
two of comfort. David did not speak the language
she was using, but he recognised it when he heard it.
"Why are you talking to him in Vulcan?" he said.
Saavik shrugged. "I know it is not logical.
I know he cannot understand, but he would not understand any other
language, either, and Vulcan is . . . the first
language Spock taught me."
David glanced at the child. "It's hard to think of
him as Spock," he said.
"He is only a part of Spock. He is the
physical part. The mind exists only in
potential. He might perhaps become a reasoning
being, with time and teaching. He is not so different from what
I was when . . . when he found me a scavenger,
illiterate certainly, almost completely
inarticulate . . ."
She shivered. He sat down next to her and put
his arm across her shoulders. "You're cold."
"I choose not to perceive cold," she said. She
did not respond to his embrace.
.,
STAR TREK Ill
The child suddenly cried out. David glanced up
apprehensively, for they were beneath tons of stone. The
gentle quake that followed the cry left the cave
undisturbed, but the child moaned in pain. Saavik
slid from beneath David's arm and went to the boy's
side to tuck the black cloth and her maroon
jacket more closely in around him.
"Sleep," she said softly, in Vulcan.
David pulled out his tricorder and made a quick
geological scan. The results gave him no
comfort.
"This planet is aging in surges," he said.
"And Spock with it," Saavik said quietly.
David glanced at her, then at the boy, who had
flung himself over.
"My gods was David said.
An hour before, the child had had the
appearance of a boy of eight or ten. Now he
looked more like a thirteen-or fourteen-year-old.
"The child and the world are joined together,"
Saavik said. She looked at David steadily,
as if wishing or daring him to interpret events in a
different way.
David had nothing to say that would give her, or
himself, any comfort. He nodded.
"The Genesis wave is like a clock ticking .
. . or a bomb," he said. "For him and for the
planet. And at the rate things are going . . ."
"How long?" Saavik asked. She thought that if
they must die, sooner would be less painful than
later. But though she accepted the logic of that
conclusion, she was not yet ready to stop fighting for every
instant of life left to her.
"Days . . . maybe hours," David said.
"It's a chaotic system, Saavik. Which variable
will pass the energy threshold and cause everything
to disintegrate into protomatter . . ." He shook
his head. "It's completely unpredictable." He
looked away, and then, in such a
The Search For Spock
low tone that Saavik almost did not hear him, he
said, "I'm sorry."
She nodded, accepting both his verdict and his
grief.
"It will be hardest on Spock," she said.
"Soon . . . he will feel the burning of his
Vulcan blood."
"I don't understand," David said.
I should not have spoken of pon farr, she thought. It
is not logical to burden David with one more thing about
which he can do nothing. No one has ever found a way
to free Vulcan men of the loss of emotional and
physical control they endure every seventh year of their
adult lives.
She was saved from having to choose between an
explanation and a lie by the abrupt querulous bleating
of David's tricorder.
He pulled the instrument out and frowned over the
life signs.
"Whoever they are," he said, "they're getting
closer."
Saavik estimated one chance in a thousand that other
refugees from Grissom caused the signs, and
five to ten chances in a thousand that whoever was tracking
them had other than
malicious intent. In all the other
possibilities, the beings who had destroyed
Grissom sought Saavik and David in order
to inflict the same fate upon them. Still . .
. a chance, even if it were the chance to become a
prisoner, was better odds than the certain death they
faced by remaining on Genesis.
Saavik stood up. "I will go his
"No!" David said sharply. "I'll do it.
Give me your phaser."
Saavik did not want David, untrained as
he was, to go out alone on a spy mission. She
glanced at the Vulcan boy. She did not want
to leave him alone, either, and she particularly did not
want to leave David alone with him. She realised
it would be marginally less 215
STAR TREK lll
dangerous, for David, if he were to go spying on
the unknown entity.
And she could see that his guilt impelled him
to undertake the mission. She offered him her phaser.
He touched her hand, took the weapon, and hurried
out into the darkness.
A moment later the Vulcan child cried out in
agony, just before the ground began to tremble.
Chapter 10
The Enterprise sped free through space.,
Excelsior lay far behind, still waiting
for a tow. The communications channels were just
beginning to come clear again. Kirk wondered if
Uhura was all right. She was levelheaded. When
Security came to the transporter station she should
simply have thrown up her hands and surrendered. But
accidents could happen, and Kirk could not help but
worry. Nevertheless he was grateful to her, for without
her help he might have the whole fleet converging on
him. The one thing he knew he could not do, even
to save McCoy's sanity and Spock's soul, was
fire on another Starfleet ship.
"Estimating Genesis 2.9 hours, present
speed," Sulu said.
"Can we hold speed, Scotty?" Kirk
asked.
"Aye, sir, the Enterprise has its second
wind now."
"Scan for vessels in pursuit," Kirk said.
STAR TREK Ill
"Scanning . . ." The voice was an eerie
facsimile of Spock's. "Indications negative
at this time."
Kirk turned toward the science station. McCoy,
at Spock's old place, looked up and
blinked.
"Did I . . . get it right . . . ?" he
asked.
"You did great, Bones," Kirk said. "Just
great."
"Sir, Starfleet is calling Grissom again,"
Chekov said. "Warning about us."
"Response?"
Chekov glanced worriedly at his console.
"Nothing. As before."
"What's Grissom up to?" Kirk said. "Will
they join us, or fire on us?" he said, half
to himself. "Mr. Chekov, break radio silence.
Send my compliments to Captain Esteban."
"Aye, sir."
Kirk rose and went to McCoy's side.
"How we doing?" he said.
McCoy gave him a thoughtful and slightly
sardonic glance, the look of a doctor who
recognises a bedside manner when it is being
inflicted upon him.
"How are we doing?" he said. "Funny you
should put it quite that way, Jim." He paused, as
if listening to a second conversation. "We are doing
fine. But I'd feel safer giving him one
of my kidneys than getting what's scrambled up
in my brain."
"Admiral," Chekov said, "there is no
response from Grissom on any channel."
"Keep trying, Mr. Chekov. At regular
intervals."
Carol Marcus hurried up the steps of the tall
Victorian house and knocked on the door. She
waited apprehensively, looking back over the
small town of Port Orchard. Beyond it, water
sparkled slate-grey and silver in the autumn
sun. The chilly salt air fluttered against the
rhododendrons that grew all around the
The Search For Spock
porch. They were heavily laden with the buds of next
year's flowers. She had hoped to see them in
bloom, in the spring. But if that had still been
possible, she would not have had to come here now, all
alone.
The door opened. Carol turned, still dazzled
by sunlight on the sea.
"I'm terribly sorry not to arrive when I said
I would I got lost," she said. "I have something
to give to Del March's family, but I
couldn't find the address, I ended up in a park was
She stopped suddenly. She was practically babbling.
"I'm sorry," she said more calmly. "I'm
Carol Marcus."
"Come in." Vance's mother took Carol's hand and
led her inside. Her voice possessed the same
low, quiet timbre as Vance's. Her hand in
Carol's felt frail. "I'm Aquila
Madison, and this is Terrence Laurier, Vance's
father."
Both Vance's parents were tall and slender, as he
had been. Carol had expected them to be about her own
age, for Vance had been only a few years older
than David. But they were both considerably older
than she, perhaps as much as twenty years. Aquila's
closecropped curly hair was iron-grey.
Terrence wore his longer, tied at the back of his
neck, but it, too, had gone
salt-and-pepper from its original black.
A leaded glass door opened from the foyer.
Terrence and Aquila showed Carol into their living
room. It was a high-ceilinged, airy place,
carpeted with antique Oriental rugs. Aquila
and Terrence sat side by side on a couch in front
of the tall windows. Carol sat facing them
and wondered what to say to them, how to start.
"Del never did outgrow that joke," Aquila
said.
"I thought I'd written the address down
wrong," Carol said. "Do you mean he meant people to go
to a park?"
STAR TREK 111
"NO, my dear," Aquila said, "he meant people
to think they'd written the address down wrong."
"I don't understand. Where does his family
live?"
"He has none," Terrence said. "None he'll
admit to, anyway."
"Then where did he live?"
"He lived here," Aquila said.
"What you have to understand about Del," Terrence said,
"is that he made up nearly everything about himself his
name, his home, the relatives that only existed in a
computer file, his background before he was twelve
everything."
"But his records," Carol said. "In this day and
age his
"He didn't need too much," Terrence said.
"Not here a false address, a few
counterfeit relatives and school records. He
had an uncanny rapport with computers, and the voice
synthesiser he built stood in for an adult as
long as nobody asked to meet it face to face.
He was so young no one thought to be suspicious of
him."
"As it was, he and Vance had been friends for a year
before Terrence and I realised just how odd some of the odd
things about him were. Vance knew, but he couldn't
persuade Del to trust us."
"How did you find out?"
"I tried to go to his house once," Terrence
said. "I went out all fired up with the intention of either
jumping down somebody's throat for never getting the
kid any decent clothes, or offering to get him some
myself."
"When we finally found out where he was
living it was an abandoned house we persuaded him
to move in here. We have plenty of room."
Aquila made a quick gesture with one hand,
indicating the house, the surroundings.
The Search For Spock
Carol found herself already under the spell of Terrence
and Aquila's home. It had the
comfortable and comforting ambiance of a place lived in by people
who loved each other, of a place lived in and cared
forand cared about by the same people for a long time. Vance had
told her that the Madisons, Aquila's family,
were some of the first black landholders in the area. Her
ancestors had settled here three hundred years
ago, long before the Federation, even before the region had
been admitted to statehood in the previous
political entity.
"Did you adopt him?"
"We wanted to. But he was terrified that if we
found his people and asked them to give up legal custody,
they'd make him go back. Arguing didn't do any
good his
Carol nodded. She had been in a few
arguments with Del March.
was and besides, he might have been right."
"We didn't press him about it. We were
afraid he might run away from us, too, and we were
already very fond of him. Though he could be quite
trying. his
"He did have a reputation for being. . . a little
wild," Carol said.
"In college, yes," Aquila said. "Once
he was of age and didn't have to fear being
shipped back to whatever he was running from he didn't
have to be careful never to attract any attention. He
did get . . . "a little wild." We were
awfully worried about him for a few years. So was
Vance . . ."
"I didn't get to know him as well as I should
have," Carol admitted. "We just never got off on
the right foot. He and my son David were very
close, though." Carol reached into her pack and drew
out a roll of parchment. PI think you should have this. It
was
STAR TREK 111
Del's he kept it on the wall of his office.
And Vance made it."
Aquila unrolled the parchment. In his strong,
even calligraphy, Vance had copied seven
stanzas of Lewis Carroll's "The Hunting of the
Snark. was Those were the stanzas from which Madison and
March had taken the terminology for the
subelementary particles they had described and
discovered. Carol remembered the end of the poem "For
although common Snarks do no
manner of harmea/yet I feel it my duty to
say/some are Boojums 79
Aquila and Terrence read it over. Aquila
smiled, brushed her fingertips across the parchment, and
read it a second time. Terrence raised his head.
He and Carol looked at each other. They could no
longer avoid talking about Vance.
"I loved your son," Carol said. "I don't
know if he told you, about us his
"Of course he did," Aquila said. "We were
looking forward to your vacation next spring, we were
hoping you would come with him when he visited."
"I would have. He told me so much about you . . .
Aquila, Terrence, he was such an
extraordinary man. I'm so sorry was She had
to stop. If she said any more, she would start to cry
again.
"Carol," Terrence said, "what happened out there?
We never thought Vance would work on a military
project his
"It wasn't!" Carol said. "Oh, it wasn't!
It was supposed to be just the opposite."
She told them about the project, and the least painful
version of their son's and their foster son's deaths that
she could without Iying to them. But it still came down to the
Spacelab team's being caught in the middle of
someone else's quarrel.
The Search For Spock
When she finished, her voice shaking, Terrence and
Aquila were desperately holding each other's
hands. Carol stood up. She did not want
to inflict her own grief on them anymore, and she
thought they might want to be alone.
"I wish I wish I could have met you next
spring. I'm so sorry . . . I'd better go."
Aquila rose. "That's foolish, Carol.
It's a long trip back, and it's nearly dark."
It was a long trip back. Port Orchard was a
historical reference site, so it was against the rules
to beam in. The only way to get here was by ferry or
ground car.
"We had already planned for you to stay over,"
Terrence said.
When she realised they meant it, Carol agreed,
not only because of the long trip. She was grateful to them
simply for making the offer, grateful to them for not
hating her, and glad to be able to spend more time in the
company of two people who reminded her so strongly of the
person she had loved.
Saavik started awake, unable to believe she had
fallen asleep, and, at the same time,
unsure what had awakened her. She stood up and
looked out over Genesis at night. Here and there
across the land faint lights, like the shadows of ghosts,
drifted between twisted trees.
It is merely bioluminescence, Saavik thought.
What the humans call fox-fire, and Romulans
call devil-dogs. And Vulcans? What do
Vulcans call it? No doubt they speak of it in
chemical formulae, as no doubt so should I.
She was standing on the rocky promontory that thrust
out below the cave mouth. She had come out here to keep
watch, and because she was afraid her
STAR TREK 111
exhausted restlessness might wake the Vulcan child.
Genesis had permitted itself a short respite between
its convulsions, and the boy had drifted off into his first
painless sleep.
Saavik's tricorder beeped again, and she
realized how long David had been gone. She
considered, decided to take the chance of transmitting,
and opened her communicator.
"Saavik to David." She waited. "Come in,
David."
Only static replied. She closed the
communicator quickly, more worried than she cared
to admit, for worry was not only an emotion, but a
completely unproductive use of energy.
A low, moaning cry came from the cave.
Saavik braced herself against the inevitable ground
tremor that echoed the child's pain. Rocks clattered
down the hillside. Saavik sprinted for the cave
entrance, dodging boulders and raising her arms to ward
off a rain of gravel. The huge trees rocked and
groaned.
She stopped just inside the cave. The boy huddled
against the wall as if he could draw in its coolness and
take upon himself a stony calm. His muscles
strained so taut they quivered, though the earthquake
had faded. This paroxysm had nothing to do with the
convulsions of the dying world.
"Spock," she said softly.
Startled, he flung himself around to face her.
He had changed again. Before, she could see him
only as a Vulcan child. Now she could see in him
her teacher, her mentor Spock. He was younger than
when she first encountered him. But he was Spock.
The fever burned in his face and in his eyes. He
fought what he could not understand. He
struggled to gain some control over his body
and his world.
Saavik knew that he would fail.
"So it has come," she said to him in Vulcan.
She 224
The Search For Spock
moved closer to him, speaking quietly. "It is
called pon farr. ,,
He could not understand her words, but her tone calmed
him.
"Will you trust me, my mentor, my friend?" I know
it is no longer you, she thought, but I will help you if
I can, because of who you used to be.
The sound of his labored breathing filled the cave.
She knelt beside him. She was not certain that anything
she could do would ease his pain. They were not formally
pledged, psychically linked.
His body was so fevered she could feel the heat, so
fevered it must burn him. She touched his hand and felt
him flinch as a thread of connection formed between them. She
guided his right hand against hers, then put her left hand
to his temple. His unformed intelligence met her
trained mind, and she used the techniques he had
taught her it seemed so long ago, in another life
to soothe his fear and confusion. Saavik felt the
tangled tautness of his body begin
to relax.
Spock reached up and gently touched her
cheek. His fingers followed the upward stroke of
her eyebrow, then curved down to caress her
temple, as Saavik met the gaze of his
gold-flecked brown eyes.
The viewscreen wavered with the Enterprise's
change of state from warp speed to sub-light. The
new star and its single planet spun where only a
few days before the Mutara Nebula filled space
with dense dustclouds. Despite everything, Jim
Kirk remained taken by the world's beauty.
"We are secured from warp speed," Sulu said.
"Now entering the Mutara sector. Genesis
approaching."
"What about Grissom, Mr. Chekov?" Kirk
asked.
"Still no response, sir."
Sulu increased the magnification of the viewscreen
STAR TREK ill
and put a bit of the ship's limited extra power
to the sensors, but he could find no trace of
Grissom, either.
"Bones," Kirk said tentatively,
"can you Eve me a quadrant bi-scan?"
He glanced back at McCoy. The doctor
hunched unmoving over Spock's station. After a
moment he spread his hands in frustration and defeat.
"I think you just exceeded my capability . . ."
"Never mind, Bones." Kirk gestured
to Chekov. "Mr. Chekov his
"Yes, Admiral." Chekov joined McCoy
and took over.
"Sorry," McCoy said shakily.
"Your time is coming, Doctor. Mr. Sulu,
proceed at full impulse power."
"Full impulse power," Sulu said.
"There is no sign of ship, Admiral,"
Chekov said. "Not Grissom, not . . . anything."
"Very well, Mr. Chekov. Continue scanning."
Kirk rose and joined McCoy.
"You all right?" he asked softly.
"I don't know, Jim," McCoy said.
"He's . . . gone, again. I can feel him, it's
almost as if I can talk to him. But then he slips
away. For longer and longer, and when he . . . comes
back . . . my sense of him is weaker."
Kirk frowned. McCoy had not added that he,
too, felt weaker, but he did not have to.
It was obvious to Kirk that the doctor's strength was
slowly draining away.
"Keep hold of him, Bones," he said.
"Keep hold of yourself. We're almost there."
Saavik smoothed Spock's tangled hair.
The fever had broken, the compulsion had left him.
He slept, and he 226
The Search For Spock
would live. She wondered if she had done him a
ldndness by saving his life. He was still completely
vulnerable to the convulsions of Genesis, which would continue
to torture him.
She sighed. She had done what she thought was right.
She was terribly worried about David. He should
have returned long ago. She drew out her
communicator and opened it, but on second thought put
it away. Spock would sleep for some time, so she could
safely leave him alone. It would be better for all
of them if Saavik sought David without using her
communicator and
advertising their presence. She rose and started for the
cave entrance.
She heard something footsteps. This cursed world
made sounds difficult to identify accurately, a
task she would have found ridiculously easy
anywhere else. Hoping it was David but believing it
was not, she pressed herself against the cave wall.
A great dark shape filled the entrance. The tall
and massive humanoid figure carried a sensor
that sought out his quarry.
A Klingon tilde
While he still stood blinking in the darkness,
Saavik launched herself at him. If she could
overcome him and escape into the woods with Spock
Roaring with fury, he spun, knocking her back
against the cave wall. His bones were so heavy and his
muscles so thick that she could barely get a grasp
on him, even on his wrist. He flung his arms
around her and began to squeeze, shouting angrily in a
dialect of Klingon that she did not understand. She
struggled, pressing her hands upward. Klingons had
different points of
vulnerability than humans, who were different again
from Vulcans and Romulans. She broke his
grasp 227
STAR TREK 111
for an instant and smashed her fists into the sides of
his jaw. He staggered backward, dazed by the
transmission of energy from the maxilla into the skull.
Saavik heard laughter.
Two of his comrades had followed him into the cave.
They stood beside Spock, who sat watching,
half-awake and confused. Both were armed; they held
their weapons aimed at Spock. They taunted her
again in a dialect she did not know, but the meaning was
clear Get him, little one, beat him if you can, and
we will laugh at him for the rest of the trip. Beat him
and lose anyway, because we hold your friend hostage.
She stepped back, spreading her hands in a
gesture of surrender.
Enraged by the others' mockery, her opponent
rushed at her with a raging curse. He struck her a
violent backhand blow that flung her against the cave
wall.
The impact knocked her breath from her. She
sagged against the stone, her knees collapsing. She
pressed herself against the cave wall, barely managing
to hold herself upright.
Her opponent snapped a harsh reply to his
laughing companions, dragged Saavik's wrists behind
her back, twisted her arms, and pushed her forward out
of the cave. The other two pulled Spock to his
feet and roughly hurried him outside.
Saavik stumbled down the rocky trail to the
promontory. Dawn lay scarlet over
Genesis, turning the trees a deep and
oppressive maroon. Overnight the thick gnarled
trunks had sprouted tens of thousands of spindly,
barbed branches that flailed at the people passing beneath
them. A thorn caught in Saavik's shirt and
tore it. Another tangled in her hair. She
tried to look back, to see if Spock were all
right. With only the 228
The Search For Spock
shroud to wrap around him, he was terribly
vulnerable. But her captor forced her faster down the
trail. The branches thrashed and clattered, as if
whipped by a violent wind.
But there was no wind.
Even the stones had changed. The sharp thrust of the
promontory was rounded, smoothed, and darkened with a
patina of age that implied a thousand years of
erosion. A Klingon officer stood upon it in an
attitude of possession, gazing out over the forest
below. A creature stood at his side.
His hunting party flung Saavik and Spock
roughly down behind him.
Saavik lay still, clenching her fingers in the dirt
and struggling to control her anger. If she surrendered
to the madness now, she could only bring death
to them all.
The commander turned slowly.
"So!" he said. He spoke in Standard, but his
faint accent did nothing to disguise his
impatience. "I have come a long way for the power of
Genesis. And what do I find?"
He gestured sharply as Saavik pushed herself
to her knees.
The rest of his landing party dragged David forward and
shoved him down. He sprawled on the stone beside
Saavik. She gasped at the dark bruises on his
face, the blood on his mouth, the scratches and
welts on his arms and hands. He looked ashamed.
She wanted to touch him, she wanted to protect him
from any more pain, but she knew if she betrayed any
concern for him their captors would use it against them.
"What do I find?" the commander said again. "Three
children! III'-BRED children, at that. It's only what
one might expect of humans, but you, and you was 229
STAR TREK 111
He glared at Saavik, then at Spock, and
then he laughed. "So much for Vulcan restraint,"
he said.
His creature echoed his laugh with a growling whine.
Saavik rose to her feet, very slowly,
her rage so great she trembled.
"My lord," she said. Her voice was so calm, so
cold, that it astonished her. "We are survivors
of a doomed expedition. This planet will destroy itself
in hours. The Genesis experiment is a
failure."
"A failure!" The commander laughed with every evidence
of sincere good humor. "The most powerful
destructive force ever created, and you call it a
failure ?" He took one step forward. Sauvik
had to raise her head to look at him. He was head
and shoulders taller than she. "What would you consider
a success, child?" He
chuckled. "You will tell me the secrets of
Genesis."
"I have no knowledge of them," Saavik said.
"Then I hope pain is something you enjoy," he
said.
Saavik was accustomed to being taken at her word, but
she knew she could not hope for that courtesy from the
enemy commander. Genesis had taken six primary
investigators plus a laboratory full of
support personnel eighteen months of solid work
and all their lifetimes of experience to create. Even
if Saavik had belonged to the team, she would
not be able to say, in a few simple words, how
to recreate their project.
The Klingon serjeant hurried forward with an open
communicator. The commander cut off his words.
"I ordered no interruptions!"
"Sir!" said a voice from the communicator.
"Federation starship approaching!"
Saavik and David caught each other's glance,
hardly daring to hope.
The commander glared a t them, as if they had called
The Search For Spock
the starship to them at this particular moment, simply
to frustrate him.
"Bring me up!" he said. And to his landing party,
"Guard them well."
He and his creature vanished in a dazzle of
light.
Kruge reformed on board his ship and strode to the
bridge. Torg saluted him and gestured to the
viewport.
"Battle alert!" Kruge said. As the bridge
erupted into activity around him, he folded his arms
across his chest and observed the
Constellation-class Federation starship that
sailed slowly toward him. He smiled.
It was his, as firmly in his possession as the
three child-hostages on the surface of Genesis.
Warrigul pressed up against his leg. Kruge
reached down and scratched his creature's head.
Warrigul hissed with pleasure.
The Enterprise's search for Grissom continued
fruitlessly. Kirk wondered if, somehow, it had
finished its work and headed back to Earth. Travelling
at warp speed, they might easily have missed it.
No doubt David was back home
already, having coffee with Saavik. Or laughing with
his mother about that lunatic James Kirk, rushing off
in a stolen ship on a selfimposed mission that no
one else could understand. Kirk pressed the heels of
his hands against his eyes.
"Sir was Chekov said.
"What is it, commander?"
"I'd swear something was there, sir. . ." Chekov
peered at his instruments, which had flickered with the
sensor-signature of a small vessel, but now
stubbornly continued to show absolutely nothing. "But
. . . I might have imagined it...."
"What did you see, Chekov?"
"For one instant . . . Scout class
vessel." 231
STAR TREK 111
"Could be Grissom, was Kirk said thoughtfully.
"Patch in the hailing frequency."
Chekov did so, and nodded to Kirk.
"Enterprise to Grissom," Kirk said. "Come
in, Grissom. Come in, please."
"Nothing on scanner, sir," Chekov said.
"Short range scan, Mr. Chekov. Give
it all the focus you've got. On screen, Mr.
Sulu."
Chekov focused the beam, and Sulu switched the
viewscreen, which showed nothing but empty space.
On the bridge of his fighter, Commander Kruge
listened to the Federation ship's unguarded
transmission
"I say again, Enterprise to Grissom.
Admiral Kirk calling Captain Esteban,
Lieutenant Saavik, Dr. Marcus. Come in,
Grissom!"
"Report status," Kruge said, keeping his
voice offhand, but secretly rejoicing. Kirk!
Admiral James T. Kirk, and the Enterprise!
If he returned home having vanquished the
legendary Federation hero, and bearing
Genesis as well to
"We are cloaked," said Torg. "Enemy
closing on impulse power, range five thousand."
"Good." Kruge stroked the smooth scales of
Warrigul's crest and murmured to his creature,
"This is the turn of luck I have been waiting
for...."
"Range three thousand," Maltz said.
"Steady. Continue on impulse power."
"Yes, sir!"
Kruge noted Torg's intensity, Maltz's
uneasiness.
"Range two thousand."
"Stand by, energy transfer to weapons. At my
command!"
"Within range, sir."
The Search For Spock
Kruge turned slightly. After a moment, his
new gunner raised his head and froze, noting
Kruge's attention.
"Sight on target, gunner," Kruge said.
"Disabling only. Understood?"
"Understood clearly, sir!"
"Range one thousand, closing."
"Wait," Kruge said, as the Enterprise
loomed larger in his viewport. "Wait...."
At the same time, Kirk studied the enhanced
image on the viewscreen of the Enterprise.
"There," he said. "That distortion. The
shimmering area."
"Yes, sir," Zulu said. "It's getting
larger as we close in his
was And it's dosing on us. Your opinion, Mr.
Sulu?"
"I think it's an energy form, sir."
"Yes. Enough energy to hide a ship, wouldn't you
say?"
"A cloaking device!"
"Red alert, Mr. Scott!" Kirk said.
"Aye, sir."
The Klingon vessel must have beamed someone on
board. Chekov would have had only a second or
two to catch a glimpse of the ship. If his attention
had wandered for a moment . . .
"Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, "good work."
"Thank you, Admiral."
The lights dimmed. The Klaxon alarms
sounded a bit redundant, Kirk thought, since
every living being on the ship was right here on the
bridge.
"Mr. Scott, all power to the weapons
system."
"Aye, sir."
McCoy stood up uneasily. "No
shields?"
STAR TREK 111
"If my guess is right, they'll have to de-cloak
before they can fire."
"May all your guesses be right," McCoy
said.
Kirk tried not to think what the appearance of this
disguised ship, in place of Grissom, must mean.
"Mr. Scott two photon torpedoes at the
ready. Sight on the center of the mass."
"Aye, sir."
The Enterprise sailed closer and closer to an
indefinable spot in space, more perceptible as
different if one looked at it from the corner of the
eye. The ship was very nearly upon it whey
Sulu saw it first. "Klingon fighter, sir his
The Klingon craft appeared before them as a
spidery sketch, transparent against the stars, quickly
solidifying.
was Arming torpedoes!"
"Fire, Mr. Scott!"
The torpedoes streaked toward the Klingon ship.
It was as if their impact solidified the ship while
simultaneously blasting a section of it away. The
fighter tilted up and back with the
momentum of the attack. It began to tumble.
"Good shooting, Scotty," Kirk said.
"Aye. Those two hits should stop a horse,
let alone a bird. his
"Shields up, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said.
"Aye, sir." He accessed the automation center
and tried to call up the shields.
Nothing happened.
"Sir," he said in concern, "shields are
unresponsive."
Scott immediately turned to his controls, and
Kirk turned to Scott.
"Scatty ?"
With a subvocal curse, Scott bent closer
over his
The Search For Spock
console. "The automation system's overloaded.
I dinna expect ye to take us in!combat,
ye know!"
On the smoke-clouded bridge of his wounded ship,
Kruge stumbled over a dim shape and fell to his
knees. He touched the shape in the darkness
Warrigul.
His beast, which he had owned since he was a youth and
Warrigul only a larva, lay dying. Ignoring the
chaos of the damaged bridge, Kruge stroked the
spines of Warrigul's crest. His pet responded
with a weak, whimpering growl, convulsed once, and
relaxed into death.
Kruge rose slowly, his hands clenched at his
sides.
Torg's voice barely penetrated the white
waves of rage that pounded in his ears.
"Sir the cloaking device is destroyed!"
"Never mind!" Kruge shouted. There would be no more
hiding from this Federation butcher. "Emergency power to the
thrusters!"
"Yes, my lord."
The lights on the bridge further dimmed as the
thrusters drained the small ship's power, but the
tumbling slowed and ceased. The ship stabilised.
"Lateral thrust!"
Torg obeyed, bringing the ship around
to face the Enterprise again.
"Stand by, weapons!"
Jim Kirk watched the Klingon craft come round
to bear on his ship.
"The shields, Scotty!"
- "I canna do it!"
"Ready torpedoes was The order came too
late. The enemy ship fired at nearly
point-blank range. The Enterprise had neither time
nor room to maneuver. "Torpedoes coming in!"
Kirk cried, bracing himself.
The flare of the explosion sizzled through the sen235
STAR TREK 111
sore. The viewscreen flashed, then darkened. The
ship bucked violently. Kirk lost his hold and
fell. The illumination failed.
"Emergency power!"
The Enterprzse responded valiantly, but the
bridge lights returned at less than half
intensity. McCoy helped Kirk struggle up.
"I'm all right, Bones." He lunged back
to his place. "Prepare to return fire! Mr.
Scott transfer power to the phaser banks!"
"Oh, god, sir, I dinna think I can his
"What's wrong?"
"They've knocked out the damned automation cen-
ter!" He smashed his fist against the console. "I
ha' no control over anythin'!"
"Mr. Sulu!"
Sulu's gesture of complete helplessness, and
Chekov's agitated shake of the head, sent Kirk
sagging back into his chair.
"So . . ." he said softly. "We're a
sitting duck."
He watched the enemy fighter probe slowly
closer.
Kruge, in his turn, watched the silent, powerful
Federation ship drift before him.
- "Emergency power recharge," Borg said,
"forty
percent. . . fifty percent. My lord, we are
able to fire his
Kruge raised his hand, halting Torg's
preparations for another salvo.
"Why hasn't he finished us?" Kruge said.
He suspected Kirk wanted to humiliate him
first. "He outguns me ten to one, he has four
hundred in crew, to my handful. Yet he sits
there!"
"Perhaps he wishes to take you
prisoner."
Kruge scowled at Torg. ""He knows I
would die first."
"My lord," Maltz said, from the communications
The Search For Spock
board, "the enemy commander wishes a truce
to confer."
"A truce!" Kruge's training and better
judgment restrained his wish to fire, provoke a
response, and end the battle quickly and cleanly.
"Put him on screen," he said more calmly, then,
to Torg, "Study him well."
The transmission from the Enterprise, enhanced and
interpreted, formed Kirk's three-dimensional
image in the area in front of and slightly below
Kruge's command post.
"This is Admiral James T. Kirk, of the
U.s.s. Enterprise. his
"Yes," Kruge said, "the Genesis commander
himself."
"By violation of the treaty between the
Federation and the Klingon Empire, your
presence here is an act of war. You have two
minutes to surrender your crew and your
vessel, or we will destroy you."
Kruge delayed any reply to the arrogant
demand. Kirk was neither ignorant nor a fool.
He must know that officers of the Klingon Empire did
not surrender. And no one with a reputation like his could be
a fool. Was he trying to provoke another
attack, so he could ju stify destroying his enemy or
increase his valor in the defeat? Or was there something
more?
"He's hiding something," Kruge said. "We may
have dealt him a more serious blow than I thought."
Torg looked at him intently, trying to trace
his superior's thoughts. "How-can you tell that, my
lord?"
"I trust my instincts," Kruge said easily.
He toggled on the transmitter. "Admiral
Kirk, this is your oppo nent speaking. Do not
lecture me about treaty violations, Admiral.
The Federation, in creating an ultimate weapon,
has turned itself into a gang of interstellar
criminals. It is not I who will surrender. It is
you." He 237
STAR TREK 111
paused to let that sink in, then gambled all or
nothing. "On the planet below, I have taken
prisoner three members of the team that
developed your doomsday weapon. If you do not
surrender immediately, I will execute them. One at a
time. They are enemies of galactic peace."
Listening to the transmission with disbelief, Kirk
pushed himself angrily from his chair. "Who is this?
How dare you to was
"Who I am is not important, Admiral.
That I have them, is." He smiled, baring his teeth.
"I will let you speak to them."
On the surface of Genesis, far below, the landing
party listened via communicator to the battle and to the
interchange between Kirk and Kruge. Saavik
listened, too, buoyed by the appearance of the
Enterprise, disturbed by its failure to instantly
disable and capture the Klingon ship. A Klingon
fighter was no match for a vessel of the Constellation
class. Saavik could only conclude that Kirk had
come back to Genesis before his ship was fully
repaired. She glanced at Spock, who sat
wrapped in his black cloak and in exhaustion that was
nearly as palpable. The reports Grissom had
sent back must have brought James Kirk here. She
then glanced at James Kirk's son, and saw the
hope in David's bruised face. She
hoped, in her turn and for all three of them, that he
would not be disappointed.
The Klingon commander snapped an order. The
serjeant in charge of the landing party replied with a quick
assent and motioned to his
underlings. They dragged Saavik, David, and
Spock to their feet. Spock staggered. His face
showed hopeless pain. The planet's agony, which
came to him without warning and
frequently more and more frequently as the hours
passed tortured him brutally.
The serjeant thrust his communicator
into Sauvik's 238
The Search For Spock
face. His meaning was clear she must speak. She
tried to decide if it would be better to reassure
Admiral Kirk that his son and his friend were alive,
or if she should maintain her silence and by doing so
withhold the Klingons" proof that they had prisoners.
The serjeant said a single word and Saavik felt
her arms being wrenched upward behind her back. She
called on all her training. Though the leverage forced
her on tiptoe, she neither winced nor cried out.
She stared coldly at the serjeant.
He clenched the fingers of his free hand
into a fist. Saavik did not flinch from him. He
gazed at her steadily, then smiled very slightly and
made a silent motion toward David. The crew
member restraining him twisted his arms pitilessly.
David gasped. The serjeant prodded Saavik in
the ribs. He did not need to be able to speak Standard
to indicate that he would hurt either or both of her friends
until she did his bidding. She closed her eyes and
took a deep breath. She could not bear to bring them
any more pain.
"Admiral," she said, "this is Saavik."
"Saavik was Kirk hesitated. "Is . . .
David with you?"
"Yes. He is. As is . . . someone else.
A Vulcan scientist of your acquaintance."
"This Vulcan is he alive?"
"He is not himself," Saavik said. "But he
lives. He is subject to rapid aging, like this
unstable planet."
Before Kirk could answer, the serjeant turned
to David and thrust the communicator at him.
"Hello, sir. It's David."
"David was Kirk said. His relief caught in
his voice, then he recovered himself. "Sorry I'm
late," he said.
"It's okay. I should have known you'd come. But
Saavik's right this planet is unstable. It's going
to destroy itself in a matter of hours."
STAR TREK 111
"David . . ." Kirk sounded shocked, and
genuinely sorrowful for his son's disappointment.
"What went wrong?"
"I went wrong," David said.
The silence stretched so long that Saavik wondered
if the communication had been severed.
"David," Kirk said, "I don't understand."
"I'm sorry, sir, it's too complicated
to explain right now. Just don't surrender. Genesis
doesn't work! I can't believe they'll kill us for
it his
The serjeant snatched the communicator from
David.
"David to was Kirk shouted. But when David
tried to reply, his captor wrenched him back so
hard he nearly fainted. Saavik took one
instinctive step toward him, but she, too, was
restrained, and for the moment she had no way to resist.
The serjeant permitted them to listen to the remainder
of Kruge's conversation with Admiral
Kirk.
"Your young friend is mistaken, Admiral,"
Kruge said. His voice tightened with the emotions of
anger and desire for revenge. "I meant what I
said. And now, to show my intentions are sincere . . .
I am going to kill one of my prisoners."
"Wait!" Kirk cried. "Give me a chance his
Saavik did not understand the order Kruge next
gave to his serjeant that is, she did not understand the
words themselves, which were of a dialect she did not know. But
the intent was terribly clear. The serjeant looked
at Spock, at David, at Saavik.
His gaze and Saavik's locked.
The serjeant had been vastly impressed by his
captain's offer of final honor to his gunner, and
vastly horrified by the gunner's inability to accept
the offer and carry out the deed. He recognised in
Saavik a prideful being. As Kruge had shown
magnanimity to
The Search For Spock
the gunner, the serjeant would show it to this young
halfbreed Vulcan. He would give her the chance
to maintain her honor at her death.
He drew his dagger. The toothed and
recurved edges flashed in the piercing light of the
sun. He raised it upbbhe offered it to her.
Saavik knew what he expected of her. She
understood why he was doing it, and she even understood that
it was meant as a courtesy.
But she had never taken any oath to follow his
rules.
She raised her hands, preparing to grasp the
ritual dagger. She could feel the attention of every
member of the landing party. They were so fascinated, so
impressed by their serjeant's tact and taste, that they
had nearly forgotten their other captives. Saavik
would take the knife then lay about her with it.
A"..."com" comthem, cry "Run!" to her friends tilde
His
wit to take the champ -"
at P."
Oyotuhuinderstand7 yOut can n ev tilde her
y of them understood her, they did n t b li
s Commander did
and ordered Saa ik felrteSD'NDIDTHE death
"David ,"
He reached up. His hand was touched her
cheek covered with blood. He
I love you," he said. "And I wish his
so weakk had to bend down to hear him; hi i
"I wish we could have seen Vance's dragons was
are no dragOns ,eaSaavik whispered'
""David love; the sThreie of the landing p
equals Uitggfocus orfrOI-MORE him.
tilde nt; (Ja backslash CICU Lll
tilde lil. tilde A tilde AA BAAS
AWAY Might escape, too, in-the confusion, but
that
Formatter was quite secondary to her responsibility
to David and to Spock.
She reached into herself to find the anger that had been
building up for so long, the berserk rage that would
give her a moment's invincibility. The fantasti-
cally recurved blade of the knife twisted in her
vision. Her attention focused to a point as coherent
and powerful as a laser. She touched the heft of the
knife.
"No!" David cried. He flung himself
forward, breaking out of the inattentive hold, and
plunged between Saavik and the serjeant.
It took Saavik a fatal instant to understand
what had happened.
With a snarl of rage, the serjeant
plunged the dagger into David's chest.
"David, no 1"
David cried out and collapsed. Saavik went
down
STAR TREK 111
with him, breaking his fall. She held him, trying
to stanch the blood that pulsed between her fingers. She could
not withdraw the knife, for it was designed to do far more
damage coming out than going in. David grasped
weakly at the hilt and Saavik pushed his hands
away.
"David, lie still his
If she could just have a moment to help him, a moment
to try to meld her consciousness with his, she could give
him some of her strength, some of her ability at
controlling the body. She knew she could keep him
alive.
"David, stop fighting me his
He was very weak. He stared upward. She did not
think he could see her. Her own vision blurred.
He rather' tilde d to speak. He failed. She
struggled to make contact his mind, to save him.
Ending party. "Don't
-" -- 'Vith
Chapter 1 1
Pale and tense, Jim Kirk pushed himself from the
command seat. His fingernails dug into the armrests and he
sought desperately for time. The channel from the
surface of Genesis spun
confused voices around him, but the Klingon commander
smiled coolly from the viewscreen, impervious and
confident.
"Commander!" Kirk shouted.
"My name," his opponent said, "is Kruge. I
think it w important, Admiral, that you know who
will defeat you. his
"At least one of those prisoners is an unarmed
civilian! The others are members of a scientific
expedition. Scientific, Kruge!"
"'Unarmed"?" Kruge chuckled. "Your unarmed
civilian and your scientific expedition stand upon the
surface of the most powerful weapon in the universe,
which they have created!"
The Search For Spock
madness took her. She flung herself backwards,
turning. She clamped her hands around the throat of the
nearest of her captors . He gagged and choked and
clawed at her hands. She
perceived the blows and shouts but they had no effect
on her. She perceived the limpid hum of a phaser and
felt the beam rake over her body. Her fingers
tightened. The phaser whined at a higher pitch.
Hands clawed at her, trying to break her grip,
failing.
The phaser howled yet a third time. The sound
penetrated Saavik's blue-white rage, searing
her mind from cerebrum to spinal cord.
She collapsed to the rocky ground and lost
consciousness.
The Search For Spock
"Kruge, don't do something you'll regret!"
"You do not understand, Admiral Kirk. Since you
doubt my sincerity, I must prove it to you. My
order will not be rescinded." He glanced aside and
snapped a question to someone out of Kirk's view.
Kirk heard the beginning of a reply.
A cry of agony and despair cut off the words.
"David!" Jim shouted. "Saavik!"
He could make out nothing but the sounds of struggle,
anger, and confusion. The transmission jumped and
buzzed Kirk recognised the
interference of a phaser beam, reacting with the
communicator. He was shaking with helplessness. The
uncertainty stretched on so long that he thought for an
instant of rushing to the
transporter room and beaming into . . .
into whatever was happening on the surface of
Genesis. But even in his desperation he knew that
he would be too late.
Commander Kruge watched, harsh satisfaction on
his face.
Finally the voice transmission from Genesis
cleared to silence.
"I believe I have a message for you,
Admiral," Kruge said, and spoke a command to his
landing party.
Again there was a delay. Jim could feel the sweat
trickling down his sides. A voice came from
Genesis, but it was one of impatient command in a
dialect of Kruge's people that Kirk had never even
heard before.
"Saavik . . . David . . ." Kirk said.
"Admiral . . ."
Even when Saavik was angry and Kirk had
seen her angry, though she might have denied it her
voice was level and cool. But now it trembled, and
it was full of grief.
"Admiral, David was Her voice caught.
"David is dead."
STAR-TREK 111
Kirk plunged forward as if he could strangle
Kruge over the distance and the vacuum that separated them
by using the sheer force fury gave his will.
"Kruge, you spineless coward! You've
killed my son!"
At first Kruge did not react, and then he
closed his eyes slowly and opened them again, in an
expression of triumph and satisfaction.
"I have two more prisoners, Admiral," he
said. "Do you wish to be the cause of their deaths,
too? I will arrange that their fate come to them . . .
somewhat more slowly." He let that sink in.
"Surrender your vessel!"
"All right, damn you!" Kirk cried. He
sagged back. "All right." He became aware of
McCoy, at his side. "Give me a minute,
to inform my crew."
Kruge shrugged, magnanimity in his gesture.
But his tone reeked of contempt. "I offer you two
minutes, Admiral Kirk," he said, enjoying the
irony of turning James Kirk's commands
back upon him. "For you, and your gallant crew."
His communication faded. Kirk sat staring at the
viewscreen as the image scattered and reformed
into space, stars, the great blue curve of Genesis
below, and the marauding Klingon
fighter.
"Jim," McCoy said. He took Kirk by the
shoulder and gripped it, shaking him gently, trying
to pull him back out of despair. "Jim!"
Kirk recoiled from his help. He stared at him
for a moment, hardly seeing him, hardly aware
anymore of the reason he had come to this godforsaken
spot in space. He knew that if he did
surrender, he would sacrifice the lives of all his
friends. And he realised, suddenly, that if he gave
Kruge the opportunity to tap into the Enterprise's
Genesis records, the information
The Search For Spock
would lead inevitably to Carol Marcus.
Krugemight be bold, but he was not a fool; he
could not threaten Carol directly. But Kirk would be
a fool to discount the Empire's network of spies,
assassins . . . and kidnappers.
"Mr. Sulu . . ." he said. "What
is the crew complement of Commander Kruge's ship?"
"It's about was Sulu had been thinking of a smart and
angry kid, a young man on the brink of realising
an enormous potential, his life drained out into the
world he had tried to make. Sulu forced his voice
to be steady; he forced his attention to the question he had
been asked. "A dozen, officers and crew."
"And some are on the planet...." Kirk said.
He faced his friends, who had risked so much
to accompany him. "I swear to you," he said,
"we're not finished yet."
"We never have been, Jim," McCoy said.
"Sulu, you and Bones to the transporter room.
Scott, Chekov, with me. We have a job to do."
He slapped the comm control. "Enterprise to
Commander, Klingon fighter. Stand by to board this ship
on my signal."
"No tricks, Kirk," Kruge replied.
"You have one minute."
"No tricks," Kirk said. "I'm . . .
Iooking forward to meeting you. Kirk out."
Kirk gathered with Chekov and Scott at the
science officer's station and opened a voice and
optical channel direct to the computer.
"Computer, this is Admiral James
T. Kirk. Request security access."
He experienced a moment of apprehension that
Starfleet might have blocked the deepest levels
of the computer. A bright light flashed in his eyes,
taking a pattern for a retina scan. No no one
in Starfleet had 247
STAR TREK 111
expected him to commit an act as outrageous and
absurd as stealing his own ship. Theddorder to him to sit
still and do nothing, though it would cost the life of
Leonard McCoy, was deemed to be sufficient
protection for the Enterprise. They had not bothered
to protect the ship in any more subtle way. If
they had, no doubt the ship's computer would have begun
shouting "Thief, thief!" the moment he stepped on
board.
"Identity confirmed," the computer said.
"Computer . . ." Kirk said. He took a
deep breath, and continued without pause. "Destruct
sequence one. Code one, one-A . . ."
As Kirk recited the complex code, he
ignored Scott's stunned glance. The only way
he was going to get through this was by keeping it at a distance,
by making the decision and carrying it out with no
secondguessing.
Kirk finished his part of the process and stood
aside.
Chekov stepped forward, his expressive face
somber. "Computer," he said slowly, "this is
Commander Pavel Andreievich Chekov, acting
science officer."
The computer scanned Chekov's dark eyes and
recognized him.
Was it Kirk's imagination, or did the
identification take longer for Chekov than it had
for Kirk? It must be his apprehension and his nerves and
his sense of the clock ticking away that last minute.
The computer was merely a machine, a machine with a
human voice and some
decision-making capabilities, but it was not de-
signed to be self-aware. It could not possess
intimations of mortality. It would not delay
identifying Chekov to give itself a few more moments of
existence, nor would the injuries begun by Kirk's
code slow it in any fashion perceptible to a
human being. The end would be quick and clean, a matter
of microseconds.
The Search For Spock
"Destruct sequence two, code one,
one-A, one-B . . ."
The computer was merely a machine; the ship was
merely a machine.
"Mr. Scott," Kirk said, his voice
absolutely level.
"Admiral was Scott said in protest.
"Mister Scott to was
Scott could stop the sequence. Kirk experienced
a mad moment when he hoped the engineer
would do just that.
Scott looked away, faced the computer's
optical scan, and identified himself. "Computer, this
is Commander Montgomery Scott, chief engineering
officer." The light flashed white, bringing the lines
of strain on his face into sharp relief.
"Identification verified."
"Destruct sequence three, code one-B,
two-B, three . . ."
"Destruct sequence completed and engaged.
Awaiting final code for one-minute countdown."
If the computer were merely a machine, if the ship
were merely a machine, how could Jim Kirk perceive
grief in its voice? It was just that, he knew his
perception, not objective reality. He and Spock
had had many arguments about the difference between the
two. They had come to no agreement, no conclusions.
The last word remained James Kirk's.
"Code zero," he said. "Zero, zero destruct
zero . . ."
This time there was no delay.
"One minute," the computer said. "Fifty-nine
seconds. Fifty-eight seconds.
Fifty-seven seconds . . ."
"Let's get the hell out of here," Jim Kirk
said angrily.
On the bridge of the fighter, Torg felt his
command
24g
STAR TREK 111
er's gaze raking him and the heavily armed boarding
party. Torg understood the compliment his commander offered
him by permitting him to lead the force. Maltz alone
would remain behind with Kruge. Admiring his commander's
restraint, Torg wondered if he himself, in
Kruge's position, would have the strength to let another
lead the assault. By forgoing that perquisite,
Kruge would gain the more important prize of seeing
Kirk brought to him, thoroughly beaten, a prisoner.
Torg felt some slight apprehension about the
size of his force relative to the crew of a
ship such as the Enterprise. He wondered if the
two remaining hostages would truly secure the
submissive behavior of the enemy. He knew that
if the positions were reversed, Kruge would
sacrifice two hostages without hesitation.
"They do outnumber us, my lord was Torg
thought to point out that even a few rebels among the
crew could make significant trouble.
His crest flaring, Kruge turned on him. "We
are Klingons! When you have taken the ship, when you
control it, I will transfer my flag to it and we will
take Genesis from their own memory banks!"
"Yes, my lord," Torg said. Kruge
delivered into his hand s the disposition of any
rebels. Torg would deliver the ship into the hands of
his commander.
"To the transport room," Kruge said. He
saluted Torg. "Success!"
The intense thrill of excitement nearly
overwhelmed the younger officer. No one had ever
spoken to him in such a high phase of the language
before.
"Success!" he replied. As he ordered his
team into formation and away he heard Kruge contact the
Federation admiral again. The conversation
followed him via the ship's speakers.
"Kirk, your time runs out. Report!"
The Search For Spock
"Kirk to Commander Kruge. We are energising
transporter beam . . ."
Torg arranged his party in a wedge, with himself at
the apex.
"Transporter, stand by," Kruge said.
"Ready, my lord." Torg grasped the stock of
an assault gun, a blaster, the weapon he
particularly favored over a phaser.
"dis . . Now."
The beam spun Torg into a whirlwind that swept
him away.
As his body reformed aboard the Enterprise, he
held his weapon at the ready. But no rebels
waited to resist him.
No one waited at all. Over the speakers, a
soft an-d rhythmic voice kept the ship's time.
An alien custom, no doubt, as inexplicable and
distracting as most alien customs.
"Forty-one seconds. Forty seconds . . ."
Torg descended from the transporter platform.
He was prepared for an attack, even more
than a surrender. He was not prepared for . . .
nothing.
He led his force from the transporter room and
toward the bridge. By the time he reached it, the eerie
silence beneath the computer voice had drawn his nerves
as taut as his grip on his blaster.
The bridge, too, lay empty and quiet.
"Twenty-two seconds. Twenty-one seconds
. . ."
Torg drew out his communicator.
"It's a trap," one of the team members said. The
fear in his voice infected every one of them.
Torg silenced him with a poisonous glance that
promised severe discipline when the time was right. He
opened a channel to his commander.
"My lord, the ship appears to be . . .
deserted."
STAR TREK 111
"How can this be?" Kruge said. "They are
hiding!"
"Perhaps, sir. But the bridge appears to be run
by computer. It is the only thing speaking."
"What? Transmit!"
Torg aimed the directional
microphone at the computer speaker, which continued its
rhythmic chant. "Six seconds. Five
seconds . . ."
"Transport! Maltz, quickly, lock onto
them to was
The alarm in Kruge's voice terrified
Torg, but he had no time to react.
"Two seconds. One second."
The transport beam trembled at the edge of his
perceptions
"Zero," the computer said, very softly.
but it reached him too late.
Saavik lay on the cold, rocky hillside.
The effects of the stun beams were fading, yet she was
barely able to move. The madness had possessed her,
and now she must pay its price. Her rage had
drained her of strength. David's death had drained
her of will. His blood stained her hands.
She forced herself to rise. The young Vulcan watched
her, curious and impassive. His form was that of
Spock, but the Spock she had known had never been
indifferent to exhaustion or to grief. She stood
up. David's body was only a few paces
away.
The sergeant snapped an order at her.
She understood its sense, but chose to ignore it. The
crew member she had tried to throttle leaped forward
and struck her, knocking her down. Even the sound of
his laughter was not enough to anger her now.
She staggered back up. The guard flung her to the
ground again. Saavik lay still for a moment, digging her
fingers into the cold earth, feeling the faint vibrations
of the disintegrating world.
The Search For Spock
She pushed herself to her feet for a third time. The
guard clenched his fist. But before he could attack, the
serjeant grabbed his arm. The two glared at each
other. The serjeant won the contest. Neither moved as
Saavik took the few steps to David's body and
knelt beside him. She put her hand to his pallid
cheek.
When David was near, she had always been aware
of the easy and excitable glow of his mind. Now it had
completely dissolved. He was gone. All she could
ever do for him was watch his body through the night, as she
had watched Peter and as she had watched Spock.
On the Enterprise the ritual had been only that.
But on this world his body was vulnerable to predators,
indigenous or alien.
Saavik gazed into the twilight. If the
Enterprise were in standard orbit, she should be able
to locate it as a point of light in the sky. Working
out the equations in her head forced her to collect her
mind and concentrate her attention. When she was done
she felt unreasonably pleased with herself.
Am I becoming irrational? she wondered.
Under these conditions, feeling pleased at anything,
much less at the solution of such a simple
process, must surely be irrational.
She looked for the Enterprise in the spot she had
calculated it should be.
She found the moving point of light.
And then .
The transporter beam ripped James Kirk from
his ship and reformed him on the surface of Genesis.
One after the other, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, and
Scott appeared around him, safe. They all
waited, phasers drawn, prepared for pursuit.
They had timed their escape closely. The enemy
boarding party could have perceived the last glint of their
transporter beam, could
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have tracked them by the console settings, and
could have followed them. But they remained alone.
The air was cold and damp and heavy with
twilight. All around, a hundred paces in
all directions, iron-grey trees reached into the
a\*, then twisted down, twining around each other like
gigantic vines. They formed a wide circle around
an area clear of trees but choked with tangled,
spiny bushes. He took a step toward the forest,
where he and his friends could find concealment, and where he would
not be able to see the sky. But the thorns ripped
into his clothing and hooked into his hands. The
scratches burned as if they had been touched with
acid. Jim stopped.
Unwillingly, he looked up.
Stars pricked the limpid royal blue with
points of light. This system contained only a single
planet and no moon. All its sky's stars should be
fixed, never changing their relationship to one another.
But one, shining the dull silver of reflected light,
moved gracefully across the starfield on its own
unique path.
Slowly and delicately it began to glow. Its
color changed from silver to gold. Then, with shocking
abruptness, it exploded to intense blue-white. The
point of motion expanded to a blazing, flaming
disk, a sphere, a new sun that blotted out the
stars.
Jim felt, or imagined, the radiation on his
face, a brief burst of heat and illumination as
matter and antimatter met and joined in mutual
annihilation.
The Enterprise arced brilliantly from its
orbit. For an instant it was a comet, but the gravity
of the new world caught it and held it and drew it in.
It would never again curve boldly close to the
incandescent surface of a sun, never again depart the
gentle harbor of Earth to sail into the unknown. The
gravity of Genesis turned the dying ship from a comet
to a falling star. It spun downward, trailing
sparks and cinders and glowing 254
The Search For Spock
debris. It touched the atmosphere, and it flared
more brightly.
Just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished. One
moment the Enterprise was a glorious blaze, and the
next the sky rose black and empty.
It seemed impossible that the stars should remain in
their same pattern, for even fixed stars changed after
an eternity.
"My gods, Bones . . ." he
whispered. "What have I done?"
"What you had to do," McCoy said harshly, his
voice only partly his own. "What you've always
done turned death into a fighting chance to live."
He faced Jim squarely and grasped his upper
arms. "Do you hear me, Jim?"
Jim stared at him, still seeing a flash of the
afterimage of the new falling star, still feeling the death
of his ship like sunlight searing his face. He took
a deep breath. He nodded.
The tricorder Sulu carried had been reacting
to the new world since the moment they appeared, but Sulu
had barely heard it. Now it forced itself on his
attention.
"Sir, the planet's core readings are
extremely unstable, and they're changing rapidly
,"
Kirk wrenched his attention to the immediate threat.
"Any life signs?"
"Close." He scanned with the tricorder.
"There."
"Come on!"
Kirk strode through the clearing toward the distorted
trees. This time the thorns seemed to part for his
passing.
The holographic viewer, which had blazed with
light, hung dark and flat; the port looked out on
empty space.
Kruge slowly realized how many blank
seconds had 255
STAR TREK 111
passed during which he had failed to act, or even
to react. The great ship which he had held in thrall
had dissolved in his grasp.
Confused and uncertain, Maltz waited by the
transporter controls. He had directed the beam
to the landing party, touched them, held them then nothing
remained on which to lock.
Kruge was unable to believe what the alien
admiral must have done.
"My lord," Maltz said hesitantly, "what
are your orders?"
My orders? Kruge thought. Do I retain the
right to give orders? I underestimated him a human
being! He did the one thing I did not anticipate,
the one thing I discounted. The one thing I would have done in
his position.
"He destroyed himself," Kruge said aloud.
"Sir, may I ?"
If I had known one of the prisoners was
his son if I had interrogated them before sacrificing
one to Kruge flailed himself with his own
humiliation. Killing Kirk's son was stupid!
It made Kirk willing to die!
"We still have two prisoners, sir," Maltz said
with transparent concern, for he had received no real
response from his command er, no
acknowledgement of his presence or of their
predicament, since the enemy ship exploded and
died. "Perhaps their information"
Kruge turned on him angrily. "They are
useless! It was Kirk I needed, and I let him
slip away."
"But surely our mission has not failed!"
Maltz exclaimed. They had come seeking
Genesis; they retained two hostages who had some
knowledge of it, perhaps enough to reproduce it. By his cowardly
suicide, Kirk had abandoned them to their captors.
Surely Kruge would not let one setback
destroy him because of pride....
- The Search For Spock
"Our mission is over," Kruge said. "I have
failed. A human has been bolder and more
ruthless than I...." His eyes were
empty. "That . . . is the real dishonor."
and then, the point of light that was the Enterprise
flared into a nova and scattered itself across the sky.
Saavik gasped.
The ship vanished.
She felt the loss of other lives and dreams much
more sharply than she felt the certainty of her own
impending death. That did not seem to matter much
anymore. It would have very little effect on the
universe.
Spock cried out violently, foretelling an
inevitable quaking of the planet. The night rumbled;
the ground shook. In the distance, Genesis echoed
Spock's agony. Beyond the forest, a fault sundered
the plain, splitting it into halves, then ramming the
halves one against the other. One edge rose like an
ocean wave, overwhelming and crushing the other, which
subsided beneath it. The sheer faces of stone ground
against each other with the power to form mountains.
A wash of illumination flooded ground and sky.
A brilliant aurora echoed the earthquake
lights, and ozone sharpened the air.
The planet was dying, as the Enterprise had died,
as every person Saavik had ever cared about had died, as
she expected, soon, to die.
Her guards turned away to gaze into the
looming, sparkling curtains of the aurora. Even
above the rumblings of the quake, Saavik could hear the
electric sizzle of the auroral discharge. The
guards watched and marveled. The
undertones of their voices revealed fear.
Instead of fading, the quake intensified. The
massive trees rocked. The loud snap! of
breaking branches reverberated across the hillside.
The guards looked
STAR TREK 111
around, seeking some place where they might be safe
and realising no such place existed on this world.
The ground heaved. It flung a massive tree
completely free, ripping it up by its roots and
propelling it onto the bare promontory. The
guards plunged out of its reach and stood huddled
together, terrified, stranded between the clutching, grasping
trees and the abyss.
The resonances of Genesis tortured Spock.
Saavik touched David's soft, curly hair one
last time. She could do nothing for him, not even guard
him till the dawn. This world would never see another
sunrise.
She rose and picked her way across the ragged,
trembling surface. Behind her the serjeant spoke
into his communicator, a note of panic in his
voice. Though Saavik could not understand the words, she
could well imagine what he was saying.
Only static replied. Perhaps, when the
Enterpnse destroyed itself, it had destroyed the
marauder as well. If that were true, then they were
marooned down here after all.
Spock lay prone, shuddering, clenching his long
fingers in the dirt. Saavik began to speak to him in
Vulcan. If she could calm him enough to approach
him, she might join with his mind and alleviate some of
his pain.
So intent was she that she did not even hear the guard
stride up behind her. He shoved her roughly aside.
She stumbled on the broken ground.
"No!" she cried as the guard reached down to jerk
Spock to his feet. "No, don't touch him!"
She was too late.
He reached down and grabbed Spock's arm.
Spock reacted to the touch as if it burned. He
leaped to his feet with a cry of pain and anger,
lifted the guard bodily, and flung him through the
air.
The Search For Spock
The guard smashed into a contorted tree with a wrenching
crunch of broken bone. His body slid limply
to the ground and did not move again.
As the serjeant drew his phaser, Saavik
struggled to her feet.
"Be easy," she said to Spock in Vulcan,
"be easy, I can help you."
Spock covered his face with his hands and cried out
to the darkness in a long, wavering ululation. He had
aged again, aged years, during the short time the guards
had kept them apart. Saavik touched him gently,
then enfolded him and held him. He was so intent on
his own inner
contortions that he did not even react.
The serjeant approached, his phaser held ready.
He was frightened to the brink of ridding himself of his
murderous prisoner, his commander's wishes and
ambitions be damned. Saavik glared at him over
her shoulder. He would not reach Spock without going through
her first.
A tetanic convulsion wracked Spock's
body, arching his spine and forcing from him a
shuddering, anguished scream.
In the dark forest on the side of the mountain, Jim
Kirk heard a shriek of agony. He redoubled his
pace. He plunged up the steep slope. The
faint trail wound between trees that would have done credit
to Hieronymus Bosch. The scarlet aurora threw
moving shadows across his path. Kirk struggled upward
between whipping
branches that moved far more violently than the
plunging of the earth could account for.
Sulu paced him, with Chekov close behind.
McCoy followed at a slightly greater distance.
Kirk gasped for breath. The heavily ionised air
burned in his throat.
STAR TREK 111
He burst out into a clearing. Saavik stood in
its center, supporting someone and a Klingon
serjeant threatened her with a phaser.
"Don't move!" Kirk cried.
The serjeant spun in astonishment, leading with his
phaser.
Kirk fired his own weapon. The beam flung the
serjeant backwards. He hit the ground and did not
move again.
Kirk ran past the serjeant without a
second glance. He slowed as he approached
Saavik, who turned toward him, cradling an
unconscious young man in her arms.
"Bones was Kirk said softly.
McCoy panted up beside him and gently took her
burden from her. When his hand brushed Saavik's arm,
she gasped and jerked away as if he had given her
an electrical shock. She took a step back,
staring at him. Kirk touched her elbow, startling her.
"Sir was she said. Her voice broke, and she
staggered. He caught her and drew her close.
"Easy, Saavik," he said. "Take it
easy. It's all right."
"I tried," she whispered. "I tried to take
care of your son . . ."
The auroras burned in the sky and lit the clearing
with a ghastly glow. Jim saw, beneath a twisting tree,
the body of his son.
He hugged Saavik one last time. She took a
long shuddering breath and straightened up, allowing him
to break the embrace.
He left her with McCoy and the others and slowly
crossed the clearing. His boots crunched on fallen
leaves.
Jim knelt beside David's body.
"My son...." A poem whispered to him from a
The Search For Spock
long-ago time. "'To thee no star be dark . . .
Both heaven and earth . . . friend thee forever . . .""
Fallen leaves drifted across David's body,
shrouding the young man in a tattered cloth that shone
scarlet and gold when the auroras flared, a cloth
of autumn leaves, from a world that had barely
experienced its spring.
Chapter 1 2
Jim closed his eyes tight, fighting back the
tears. He heard footsteps nearby. He opened
his eyes and raised his head. His vision blurred, then
cleared. Saavik stood before him.
"What happened?" he said.
"He . . . he gave his life to save us," she
said. She stopped, then shook her head and turned
away. She said, very softly, "That is all I
know."
"Jim!"
Kirk stood quickly, responding to McCoy's
concerned shout. He forced himself away from his
grief, away from the dead and toward the
living.
McCoy hunched over the body of the young person
whom Saavik had so fiercely protected. Kirk
knelt down beside them, and in the changing light he saw
He gasped. "Bones to was
"Bojemoi!" Chekov exclaimed.
The Search For Spock
In all the years from the time James Kirk met
Spock until the time of Spock's death, the
Vulcan had not much changed. He aged more slowly
than a human being. No one knew if he would age
as slowly as a Vulcan. Kirk had always been
aware that he would not live to see Spock old, and
he had not known him as a youth. The
Vulcan Iying unconscious before him was a youth
. . . but he was also, unmistakably, Spock.
Spock. Alive.
Kirk wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry, he
wanted instant certain answers to all the questions
tumbling over each other in his mind. My gods, he
thought, Spock alive!
And then he had to wonder, What does this mean for
McCoy?
"Bones ?" he said again.
"All his metabolic functions are highly
accelerated," McCoy said. He made his
diagnosis calmly, despite its implications.
"In lay terms his body is aging. Fast."
"And his mind?"
McCoy glanced at his tricorder again and shook
his head. "The readings of a newborn, or at best
an infant of a few months his mind's a void,
almost a tabula rasa." He glanced up. "It would
seem, Admiral," he said drily, "that I have
all his marbles."
"Is there anything we can do?"
McCoy shrugged. Kirk glanced at Saavik.
"Only one thing, sir," she said. "We must get
him off this planet. He is . . . bound to it in some
way. He is aging, as is this world."
The young man moaned. The ground
shuddered as violently as he did. Saavik
knelt beside him.
"And if he stays here?"
Saavik looked up.
"He will die."
STAR TREK 111
Kirk withdrew as a blaze of lightning
flooded the clearing. He had to do something . . . and
only one possibility remained.
He opened his communicator.
"Commander Kruge," he said. "This is Admiral
James T. Kirk. I am . . . alive and
well on the surface of Genesis." He paused.
He received no reply except crackling
electrical interference. "I know this will come as a
pleasant surprise for you," he said, "but, you see,
my ship was the victim of . . . an unfortunate
accident. I'm sorry about your crew, old boy.
But c'est la vie, as we say back on Earth."
His answer was another convulsion of the ground, another
crash of static, another blinding burst of light from
the cloudless sky.
"Well?" Kirk said angrily. "I'm waiting
for you what's your answer?" He forced himself to relax
his grip on his communicator, to be patient,
to wait and think. "I have what you want," he said
desperately. "I have the secret of Genesis! But
you'll have to bring us up there to get it. Do you hear
me?"
Static drowned out any possibility of an
answer. The sky and the earth rumbled, the young Vulcan
moaned, the trees groaned and cracked, and
in the background the aurora rustled, soft and eerie.
A tremendous crash of lightning and thunder
obliterated sight and sound. His shoulders slumping,
Jim Kirk folded his communicator and stowed it
carefully away. He blinked a few times, trying
to drive away the afterimages that made his eyes
water. He turned back to the remnants of his
crew, whom he had led to their doom.
He joined them, but he did not know what to say
to them. Spock lay sprawled on the ground, his arm
flung across his face. The others were gathered around
him, astonished to find him alive. Kirk sat on
his heels beside
The Search For Spock
them, not knowing what to say. "Thank you" and "I'm
sorry" seemed terribly inadequate.
"Drop all weapons!"
Startled, Kirk spun toward the voice.
The sky was a luminous backdrop, a curtain of
wavering auroral light pierced intermittently
by stars. Against it stood a huge shadow. It loomed
above them on the pinnacle of stone.
Kirk rose carefully, drawing his phaser and
dropping it, then spreading his empty hands.
Sulu, Chekov, and McCoy followed suit, but
Saavik remained kneeling beside Spock.
The looming figure came a few steps toward
them. The phaser glinted in his hand. The hair of his
crest rose.
"Over there," said Commander Kruge. "All but
Kirk." He gestured to a trampled spot on the
hillside.
Kirk made a slight gesture of his head.
McCoy, Sulu, and Chekov reluctantly
obeyed. Saavik remained where she was, next
to Spock. Kirk heard the Klingon commander draw in
a long, angry breath.
"Go on, Lieutenant," Kirk said softly.
He feared that she would argue, but finally she stood and
joined the others.
Commander Kruge spun open his
communicator. "Maltz," he said, "the
prisoners are at our first beam coordinates. Stand
by."
Kirk took one step toward Kruge, who
reacted by raising the phaser.
At least I have his full attention, Kirk thought.
"You should take the Vulcan, too," he said
easily.
"No."
"But, why?"
"Because," Kruge said, "you wish it." Keeping his
gaze on Kirk, he picked up the phasers and
flung them, 265
STAR TREK 111
one by one, over the promontory and down the side
of the mountain. Then he spoke into the communicator in
his own language. Kirk did not understand the words, but
it must have been the order to transport. The energy
flux pulsed around Kirk's friends.
"No to was Saavik cried, but the beam attenuated
her voice. She vanished with the others.
Only a few hundred meters away, the whole
hillside suddenly split open with a great roar of
tortured rock. Scarlet light and intense heat
fanned out of the fissure. The glowing magma thrust
upward through the breach in the planet's crust. The
waterfall that tumbled down the hillside flowed into the
crack and over the molten rock, exploding
into superheated steam.
Kruge strode closer to Kirk.
"Genesis!" He shouted over the cacophony of the
dying planet. "I want it!"
"Beam the Vulcan up," Kirk said.
"Then we talk."
"Give me what I want and I'll consider
it."
"You fool!" Kirk cried. "Look around you!
This planet is destroying itself!"
Kruge smiled.
"Yes," he said. "Exhilarating, isn't it?"
Kirk stared at him, speechless, then recovered
himself.
"If we don't help each other, we'll all
die here!"
"Perfect!" Kruge said triumphantly.
"That's the way it shall be!" He loomed over
Kirk, smiling his wolfish smile. "Give me
Genesisff"i he said. Each word struck like a
blow.
. As if in reply, Genesis heaved and pitched
beneath him. The outcropping on which he stood shattered and
flung him forward. He lost his balance and fell.
His phaser skittered across the stone, sliding down the
hillside to the edge of the earth fault.
As Kruge struggled up, Kirk plunged forward
The Search For Spock
tackled him. Kirk's breath rushed out
as if he had run into a solid wall. Kruge
roared with anger and caught him in the side with his fist.
He fell hard but managed to roll to his feet.
Kruge ran toward his phaser. Kirk sprinted
toward him and tackled him at the knees. They both
went down. Half-stunned, staggering, Kruge
rose. But Kirk managed to get up first. He
pressed his
advantage, hitting with short, sharp jabs that
did little real damage but kept his opponent
off-balance and flailing. He ducked beneath
Kruge's long, powerful arms and hit him again.
Kirk's knuckles were raw. Each blow shot pain
up his hands.
The livid glow of magma haloed the Klingon
commander. He swung and missed. His
momentum pitched him around. Kirk sprang at
him and hit him one more time with his battered hands.
Kruge fell.
He tumbled over the edge of a bit of broken
ground.
Kirk looked over the precipice. Kruge
stood on a second cliff, just above the rumbling
magma. Steam and smoke roiled around him.
Looking up at Kirk, he laughed.
Infuriated, Kirk sprang down on him. The
heat slapped him. He struggled with Kruge. The
size and relative youth of the Klingon commander began
to overwhelm him. Kruge broke Kirk's hold and
slammed him in the chest with both hands. The impact
flung Kirk violently back against the cliff's
rock wall. Dazed, Kirk slid toward the
ground. He barely managed to
prevent himself from falling. He was soaked with
sweat. He struggled up. Kruge regarded him from
the edge of the pit. The scarlet darkness silhouetted
the Klingon commander, who waited, hands on hips, for
Kirk to regain enough of his strength to be a fitting
opponent.
The magma surged from below, scraping
against the side of the cliff. Rocks fell,
clattering hollowly. Great 267
STAR TREK 111
hexagonal columns of basalt split away
from the cliff and collapsed like the trunks of ancient
trees. The column on which Kruge stood
fractured and began to sink. The magma swallowed
its base.
The whole column began to topple. Kruge
balanced upon it, the heat rising around him
in waves. To Kirk it looked as if the commander were
enjoying his peril, testing his nerve.
"Jump, damn you!" Kirk cried.
And still Kruge delayed. The column of stone
continued to tilt, to sink.
Kruge leaped. But he had waited an instant
beyond the last moment. He fell short. He slammed
up against the fragmenting columns, gripping the edge,
his feet dangling into the glowing pit.
Kirk sprinted to the edge of the cliff and knelt,
peering down at Kruge, who looked up at him with
his teeth slightly bared in an expression that was more a
mocking smile than a threat.
"Now," Kirk said, "you'll give me what I
want his
Kruge lurched upward, trying to get his arm over
the edge of the cliff, trying to gain leverage. Kirk
let him flail at the heated stone.
"You're going to get us off this planet!" Kirk
said.
Kruge snarled something. Whatever it was, it was not
agreement. He slipped precariously down.
"Don't be a fool!" Kirk cried. "Give
me your hand and live!"
The commander lunged toward Kirk. Kirk
jerked back. Kruge's fingers grazed his
throat, then slipped away. He started to fall, but
with a supernatural effort he vaulted upward again and
grabbed Kirk's leg.
Kruge abandoned his hold on the cliff and
clenched both hands like claws around Kirk's ankle.
Jim Kirk felt himself sliding along the rough
surface of the cliff, off-balance, only a
handsbreadth from the 268
The Search For Spock
edge. He struggled back, digging his fingers between the
hexagonal patterns where the basalt continued
to fragment. His fingernails ripped, and he left
streaks of blood on the dark stone as he slipped
farther and farther over the edge. The fierce heat of the
magma gusted up around him.
He heard Kruge laughing again, laughing with
contempt and victory, laughing at the death of
Kirk's son, at Kirk's determination to save his
friends, at Kirk's defeat, and at Kirk himself.
"Damn you!" Kirk cried in a rage. "I have
had enough of you!" He kicked out angrily, and again,
desperately.
Kruge's grip loosened, faltered, and broke.
Kirk scrambled back onto the
cliff.
Kruge tumbled down, with nothing to break his fall
but the glowing magma.
The basalt columns shuddered and split away from
each other, tumbling one after the other into the pit. The
cliff was disintegrating beneath Jim's feet. He
raced for the higher cliff, leaped, caught its edge,
and dragged himself up its face. He lay panting on
solid ground, exhausted. H'e had no choice but
to get up and keep going, for the solid ground was no
longer solid. Other cracks opened, engulfing
twisted, warty trees that exploded into flame and
smoke, swallowing the hillside's streams, gushing
superheated steam. Jim struggled to his feet.
Spock sprawled,
unconscious, near a blood-red glowing
fissure.
The hot white spark of the Genesis sun burst
above the horizon, piercing the darkness and the steam and the
smoke. Lon g shadows sprang into existence. They
moved and wavered like wraiths with the convulsions of the
ground.
Kirk knelt beside Spock and gently turned him
over.
He cursed softly.
STAR TREK 111
This was Spock, Spock as he had known him. In
only a few minutes he had traveled from youth
to maturity. In a few more minutes he would
progress to age, thence to . . . death. He
moaned, as the pain of the world to which he was chained
penetrated even his exhaustion and deep
unconsciousness. The sound lanced through Jim
Kirk.
The sun was rising so fast he could feel its
progress. The rays grew hotter as their angle
changed, and the shadows shortened. The planet's
rotation was increasing as the world tore itself apart.
Jim looked up at the sky. Even the stars had
faded in the dawn. It was too bright even to search for the
reflected light of the single ship that remained in
orbit around Genesis if it had not already fled the
unstable star system.
He glanced around, found Kruge's phaser, and
scooped it up. Then he slid one arm beneath
Spock's limp body, heaved him onto his
shoulder, and pushed himself to his feet. He opened his
communicator, muffled the pickup by rubbing his
thumbnail back and forth across it, did his
best to copy Kruge's low, harsh voice, and
repeated the last words Kruge had transmitted.
Then he waited. His legs were trembling with
fatigue. He raised the communicator to try
once more
And felt the gentle tingle of a transporter beam
forming around him. It dematerialized his body, and
Spock's, and carried them away.
Saavik materialised aboard a Klingon
fighter. The others appeared around her. A single of
fleer of the ship observed their arrival.
Saavik measured the distance to his weapon with her
gaze. She glanced sidelong at Captain
Sulu. He stood in
The Search For Spock
a completely relaxed attitude of
appraisal. He was ready. If two at once
The of fleer gestured with his phaser. It was set
to fire in a wide fan. It was clear that if anyone
moved suspiciously, the of fleer would stun them all
simultaneously and dispose of them at his leisure.
Dr. McCoy suddenly cried out in pain and
fell to his knees. Chekov and Scott quickly
moved to help him. Saavik and Sulu
remained where they were, but they both realised they were
at too great a disadvantage. As Sulu turned
away to help the others with McCoy, he muttered,
"I wonder what O-sensei would have said about
phasers?"
Saavik held back from touching McCoy again.
When he brushed against her, back on Genesis, it
was not the doctor she sensed, but Mr. Spock.
McCoy carried in him the unique pattern of her
teacher, trapped and blind and weakening. The experience
left Saavik thoroughly shaken.
Nevertheless, it explained a great deal. And it
opened so many possibilities . . .
possibilities which would be closed again if they all
remained prisoners, and above all if Genesis
destroyed itself before those remaining on its surface could
be rescued.
Comporeaed once more, Saavik mentally ran
through the forms of address in the high tongue of the
Klingon Empire. She was unfamiliar with the lower
dialects she had heard the other crew members
speak, but no matter. It would surely be better
to speak to the Klingon officer in a form too high than
in one too low. If she could speak to him without
offending him, she might have some chance of
persuading him to rescue those left behind. She might
even be able to persuade him to surrender, for the high
tongue was a very persuasive language.
STAR TREK 111
Whatever she did, she had only a little time. The
ship lay oriented so its forward port faced
Genesis directly The tectonic activity had
become so violent that even from this distance she could see
the great rifts in the planet's crust and the glowing
fires of its interior. Its orbit around its sun
was decaying rapidly; the star's blue-white disk
grew larger as Saavik watched. Before the planet
destroyed itself, its surface conditions would be
lethal.
"Worthy opponent," she said, hoping that her
accent was not too atrocious, "we find ourselves in a
delicately balanced position."
He glanced at her sharply and frowned. His hand
tightened on the grip of his phaser.
"You are one," Saavik said, "and we are
five."
She neglected to point out that Dr. McCoy was
in no state to join in any opposition.
"Furthermore, this entire star system will
soon degenerate into a plasma of subelementary
particles. If we do not rescue our respective
shipmates and flee, we will all perish."
"Stop!"
She stopped. The tone of his voice gave her little
choice.
"Why do you speak to me in this manner?" he said.
He spoke quite acceptable Standard.
"I did not know you spoke our language," she
said.
"Of course I speak your barbarian pidgin do you
think me so ignorant of my enemies? But you speak
to me in Kumburan, and I am Rumaiy. Could it
be that you have not been taught the difference?"
"It could be," Saavik admitted. "I did not
intend offecse."
"Could it be that you believe the slanderous cant put
about, that Kumburanya are in the ascendancy over
Rumaiym?"
"I confess to an unforgivable ignorance of the sub
The Search For Spock
ject," Saavik said, not altogether truthfully. She
had been told at the Academy that the language
she was studying was the only significant
one in the Klingon Empire. That did not seem quite the
appropriate response just now. "In the Federation
we employ a single language in public, so we
may all communicate."
"Reductionists!" he said with contempt.
"Obliterators of diversity!" He muttered
something unpleasant in a language Saavik
did not know, and then he started to say something which she
feared would be a lengthy tirade against the social or
political group that opposed his own.
"But I am not ignorant about the world below us,"
Saavik said quickly, taking the risk of incurring his
anger by interrupting him. "And it is close
to destroying itself. Look at it! You cannot pretend the
signs do not exist! We must
cooperate to survive!"
"I have my orders."
"Orders from a commander unaware of the
dangers on the surface, or beneath it a
commander who may even now be dead? If you value
diversity . . . my worthy opponent, this system
will soon lose its diversity completely. In a
matter of hours it will consist of nothing but a
homogeneous mass of highly entropic
protomatter."
The officer said nothing, but gazed at Saavik
thoughtfully.
The communicator erupted in a muffled burst of
static. Saavik cursed silently, for it broke
his consideration. She would have to start persuading him all
over again if she got the chance. No doubt this was his
commander with new orders, orders that could not be of any
benefit to Saavik and her companions.
When she heard the voice she started. She glanced
at Captain Sulu and knew her suspicion was
correct, because he was forcing himself not to react, not
to burst
STAR TREK 111
out in surprised and relieved laughter. They both
looked surreptitiously up at the command seat.
The officer hesitated before replying to the order.
Saavik dug her nails into her palms.
The officer touched controls.
Then they all waited.
The last thing Jim Kirk saw on the surface
of Genesis was the body of his son, drifted over with
scarlet leaves and outlined by the fires of the world that had
meant so much to him.
That world faded like a dream.
A transporter chamber solidified into reality
around Jim Kirk. He blew his breath out in a
sharp reaction of relief, for if he had been under
suspicion he might have found his and Spock's
atoms spread all over space by the transporter
beam.
Dredging from the depths of his mind the layout of a
Klingon fighter, he settled Spoek's body more
firmly on his shoulder and headed for the control room.
He saw no one as he strode through the corridors,
and he could not help but think, with some trepidation, that this
was precisely the sort of emptiness the boarding party
had confronted on the Enterprtse. He drew the
phaser. It fit his hand strangely, having been
designed for different joints and different
proportions.
Doors opened for him. He stepped into the control
room.
Kruge's second in command revealed no
surprise when Kirk entered. Like Kirk, he
held a phaser. Unlike Kirk, he was alone.
Even if he fired now, he would fall to Kirk's
phaser, and the prisoners behind him would become his
captors.
"Where is Commander Kruge?" he asked.
He spoke as if the question were his final duty. Kirk
knew, then, 274
The Search For Spock
that his masquerade had not fooled the officer for a
moment.
"Gone," Kirk said. "Dead. Engulfed
by Genesis."
Defeated and resigned, the officer spread his
hands. Kirk nodded once, sharply.
Saavik vaulted from the work-pit and relieved
Maltz of his phaser. Chekov helped McCoy
to his feet. The strain in the doctor's face, the
strain of having been removed again from proximity
to Spock, began to ease.
"How many more?" Kirk said.
"Just him, sir!" Scott said.
Kirk lowered Spock to the deck. "Bones,
help Spock! Everyone else find a station."
Saavik put Maltz's phaser in her belt,
and waited. Slowly, reluctantly, he drew his
dagger and surrendered it to her.
"You!" Kirk said to him. "Help us, or die!"
"I do not deserve to live!"
"Fine I'll kill you later! Let's get out
of here!"
He sprinted to a place on the bridge, leaving
Kruge's second confused and defeated. Everyone
else had already taken a spot. Kirk trusted that
they had all spent their time here trying to figure out which
instrument performed which function.
Beyond the viewport, the Genesis sun
contracted and brightened. It was a few minutes, no
more, from nova. The instability of the planet affected
its orbit in an accelerating manner. As the path
decayed, the world spiraled toward the sun, drawing the
ship along with it.
Kirk glanced at the beautiful and unfamiliar
alien script, of which he could not read a word.
"Anybody here read Klingon?" he said.
No one answered, though Saavik glanced at him
sharply, then looked away as if she were
embarrassed. 275
STAR TREK 111
Just like Spock, Kirk thought. She considers it a
personal failing if she can't do absolutely
everything.
"Well, take your best shot," Kirk said
to his friends.
"If you can bypass into this module was Chekov said
to Scott.
Scott made a sound of disgust. "Fine, but
where's the damn antimatter inducer?"
"This?" Chekov replied. "No, this!"
"This," Scott said, "or nothing." He touched
alien controls, took a deep breath, and moved
another control to its farthest extent.
The ship whined. Everyone flinched as the sound
wavered, then relaxed as it steadied and strengthened.
Sulu occupied a station as if it were built for
him.
"If I read this right, sir, we have full power."
Kirk did not doubt that the young captain read it
right.
"GO9 Sulu!"'9
The ship arced around, accelerated out of orbit, and
hurtled at warp speed from the deteriorating system.
There was no conversation, there were no orders, there was
simply a consensus between people who had known each other
long and well. At what he judged to be a-safe
distances Sulu pulled the fighter back from warp
speed. Elf navigating the Enterprise was like
driving a team of proud and immensely powerful
draft horses, handling the Klingon ship was like being
perched on the back of a skittish two-year-old
colt during its first Mce. Sulu
oriented it so the viewport faced the system they had
just fled.
The planet fell toward its sun, which burned with
an intense blue-white light. Stellar flares
burst from the incandescent surface, reaching out
to capture anything within their grasp.
The only thing within their grasp was the Genesis world.
With shocking suddenness, the sun engulfed it.
The Search For Spock
The Genesis world was gone.
"Good-bye, David," Jim Kirk whispered.
The disk of the star expanded, exploding to millions
of times its previous volume until it was nothing but
a tenuous, vaguely luminescent, spiral cloud
of plasma.
"It will form another world," Saavik said.
Kirk glanced at her sharply.
"The protomatter will condense to a plasma of
normal matter," she said. "The plasma will cool.
It will condense to dust, thence to a star and a family of
planets. This time, lacking the Genesis wave, it
will be stable. A surface will harden, oceans will form,
the sun's radiation will induce chemical reactions.
Life will begin. In time . . . it may
evolve as David and his friends intended."
"In millions of years," Kirk said.
"No, Admiral," she said. "In billions
of years."
"I'm glad you find some comfort in the long view,
Lieutenant," Kirk said.
Sulu spoke, breaking the uneasy tension
between Kirk and Saavik. "We're clear and
free to navigate," he said.
"Best speed to Vulcan, Captain." Kirk
fell gratefully back into the role he knew
best. "Mr. Chekov, take the prisoner below."
"Aye, sir."
"Wait!" Kruge's second in command drew
back from him and turned angrily on Kirk. "You
said you would kill me."
"I lied," Kirk said, and gestured for Chekov
to get him off the bridge.
After a quick and dirty self-taught course on the
finer details of navigating a Klingon fighting
craft, Sulu laid in a course for Vulcan.
Saavik puzzled out the communications system.
STAR TREK 111
"Lieutenant Saavik of Federation
science ship Grissom, calling Starfleet
Communications. Come in, please."
"Communications to Grissom. We've been
trying to reach you folks for days! A freighter just
picked up a lifeboat with a couple of survivors
from a merchant vessel they claim Klingons raided
their ship!"
"It is likely their claim is true,"
Saavik said. "We . . . experienced a similar
encounter."
"Are you all right?"
"I regret that we are not. We have a serious and
continuing emergency. We have incurred many
fatalities. We need your cooperation."
"You have it, Lieutenant. What do you
require?"
"A patch into your library's data-base, and a
general message to all ships between Mutara sector
and Vulcan."
"The patch is made." The Starfleet
communications officer paused a moment, then said in
a startled voice, "Lieutenant, what
communications protocol are you using? What the
devil are you flying?"
"Please stand by," Saavik said. She
instructed the Starfleet data-base and waited for the
information she needed before she replied to the question. She
assumed her answer would cause consternation at the very
least. At worst, it would result in so much
suspicion that the data link would immediately be broken,
and hunters would be sent out for their heads.
A new voice broke into the channel. "Cut that
damned data link! Lieutenant Saavik! This
is Starfleet Commander Morrow. What the hell is
going on out there? Let me speak with Esteban!"
"I am sorry, sir," she said. "That is
impossible."
He cursed softly. "I want some
explanations! Have you seen the Enterprise?"
The Search For Spock
"The Enterprise is not within our range, sir,"
she said. She did not know how to react to her
new-found ability to dissemble nearly as well as a
human being.
"What is the message you want us to relay?"
Morrow said.
was "EU-INGON fighter on course to Vulcan
?"' Saavik heard exclamations of astonishment.
She continued. ""This ship is not an
adversary. It is held by a contingent of Federation
personnel. It is running With down and weapons
disabled. Essential that we reach Vulcan. Delay
will result in further casualties. This ship is not
an adversary.""
"A Klingon fighter! Lieutenant, I ask
again, Where is Grissom? What in blazes is
going on out there?"
"Saavik out." She shut down the channel.
"Good work, Lieutenant," Kirk said. He had
known perfectly well that if he or anyone else
from the Enterprise contacted Starfleet they would have
been ordered to return immediately to Earth, to surrender.
They were without doubt already under arrest, albeit in
absentia.
Saavik could think of no suitable way
to respond to a compliment for dishonesty. Instead, she
transferred the Starfleet data to Captain
Sulu's station. He gave her a smile of
thanks.
She brought up the second information module on
her own screen and began to read the dense Vulcan
prose.
"Estimating Vulcan at point one niner,"
Sulu said.
Federation ships dogged their path, but none offered a
direct challenge. Saavik left her ship's
systems open to surveillance, but continued to let
Starfleet believe that she was the only Federation
member on board.
"Lieutenant," Kirk said, "transmit a
message to
STAR TREK 111
Ambassador Sarek. Tell him we bring
McCoy, and Spock. Tell him . . . Spock
is alive. Ask him to prepare for the katra
ritual."
"Aye, sir. But..." She was still trying to sort
out the basic facts of what she had just finished read-
ing. She could hardly presume to comprehend the
philosophy. For centuries, the most
intellectual citizens of Vulcan had dedicated
their lives to its study without claiming to have reached the
limits of its meaning.
"But what, Lieutenant?"
"I do not know if that is possible." Her lack of
knowledge brought home to her, with redoubled force, comher
profound isolation from Vulcan society.
"What? What are you saying?"
"The katra ritual is meant to deposit
Spock's consciousness in the Hall of Ancient
Thought. Not back into his body."
"But we have Spock alive! Why can't they
return his katra?"
"The circumstances are most unusual. The
procedure you suggest is called fat tor pan, the
refusion. The conditions required to perform it have not
occurred for millennia. There is considerable
disagreement about whether it succeeded then, whether it could
succeed at all, and indeed whether it should succeed. The
elders may not choose even to attempt it."
"And if they don't? What will happen
to Spock?"
Saavik wished she could avoid answering James
Kirk as easily as she had avoided the questions of
Starfleet Command.
"He will remain," she said finally, unwillingly,
"always as he is . . ."
Kirk looked blankly at her, then turned and
strode from the bridge.
\*
The Search For Spock
Spock lay on one of the pallets in the
small sick bay. McCoy stood beside him, his hand
on the pulse-point at Spock's throat. The
weak, thready beat pulsed far too slowly for a
Vulcan. McCoy passed his scanner over
Spock's body. The fragile, feeble signal
gave him no confidence. Spock had stopped aging
since they freed him from Genesis, but he had fallen
into a deep unconsciousness. As the strength of his
body ebbed, so did the strength of his spirit.
"Spock," McCoy said softly,
desperately, "I've done everything I know to do.
Help me! You stuck me with this, for gods' sake,
teach me what to do with it!" He paused, without much
hope, and received no answer from within or without. "I
never thought I'd ever say this to you," he said, and thought,
You green-blooded . . . but the old, familiar
gibe rang hollow, and he could not bring himself to speak
it aloud. "I've missed you. I couldn't . . .
I couldn't bear to lose you again."
He could feel his own strength failing him. In
despair, he hid his face \*tion his hands.
He felt the touch of another hand. Jim Kirk
stood beside him, one hand on McCoy's shoulder, the
other on Spock's. The\* lives had been
intertwined for so long....
Jim's face was full of grief, and yet of
determination. He gripped McCoy's shoulder
hard, as if, like a Vulcan, he could transfer
to hen some of his strength.
Chapter 1 3
Vulcan.
A desert world, limited in material
resources, yet limitless in the intellectual and
philosophical achievements of its inhabitants.
Saavik gazed upon it and wished what she had
wished since the first time she learned about this planet.
She wished she belonged here. She wished she had some
right to this world, some claim to a place upon it and within its
society. She had none of those things. She
suspected she could never earn them, no matter her
achievements.
"Home, eh, Lieutenant?"
"I beg your pardon, Admiral?" Saavik
said.
Kirk nodded toward the viewport. "Vulcan."
"Vulcan is not my home, sir. I have never
been here before."
"Oh," he said, taken aback. "I would have thought
you would at least have visited it."
The Search For Spock
"I have never been invited to Vulcan, sir."
She tried to speak as she had been taught, without
emotion. She almost succeeded, but Kirk sensed something
of her isolation.
"I think we'll find that we're welcome," he
said gently.
"The planet Vulcan is in hailing distance,
Admiral," Captain Sulu said.
"Thank you, Sulu. Saavik send a message
to Ambassador Sarek. Tell him we're coming
in."
She obeyed. A ground station accepted her
message. She waited for an answer.
"Rescue party his
In reaction to the voice, everyone on the bridge
swung toward the speaker. Sulu gave a cheer of
surprise and delight that mirrored all their
feelings. Hearing Uhura'svoice, knowing she was
well and free, was the first purely joyful thing that had
happened to any of them in far too long.
was this is Commander Uhura. Permission is
granted to land on the plain at the foot of Mount
Seleya. Ambassador Sarek is
ready." She paused. Her voice close
to breaking, she said, "Welcome. Oh, welcome
back."
The fighter shivered as its wings spread into flying
configuration. Sulu felt the energy of the ship glide
into his hands and arms and suffuse his body with a powerful
glow. He had never flown anything like this ship before.
He had developed a considerable and more than grudging
respect for the engineering abilities of the opponents
of the Federation.
He wondered what would happen to the ship. No
doubt Starfleet would seize it and send it back
to Earth to be dismembered and analysed. The idea
pained him greatly.
STAR TREK 111
He realised that this was quite probably the last time
he would ever fly any ship, of any sort.
"Captain Sulu," Kirk said, "you're on
manual."
He nodded. "It's been a while, sir." He
had not landed a ship of this size without gravity
propulsion since his student days. And, of course,
he had never landed a craft of this design. "Here
we go. Retrothrusters!"
The ship replied, responding like a dream. The
dust of the plain at the foot of Mount Seleya
billowed up around it as it settled to the ground.
The ramp hissed out and lowered itself to the ground.
Spock's friends carried his litter out into the scarlet
dusk of Vulcan.
At the foot of the ramp, Kirk stopped short and
looked out amazed. The plain led to the temple.
To either side of the long steep path, Vulcans stood
watching and waiting, curious and silent. Here and there
a torch flared against the dim light.
"My gods . . ." Kirk whispered.
"Much is at stake," Saavik said.
Kirk knew little of the Vulcan philosophy of
what he was about to ask, and he cared less. All he
wanted to hear was an acquiescence to his demand.
The light faded to the state of dimness where everything
took on an eerie cast. More torches flared.
Kirk heard running footsteps before he could tell
where they came from.
Uhura appeared before him. Jim embraced her with
his free arm. Uhura's eyes were bright with tears.
"Sarek is waiting," she said. "Above his
She slipped in between Kirk and Sulu and helped
carry the stretcher up the long path to the
crest of the hill, where the temple loomed dark and
mysterious.
Strange music teased the limits of Kirk's
hearing. As
The Search For Spock
he trudged up the slope the music grew only
a little louder. It and the flaring of the torches were the only
sounds. The enormous crowd of people watched somberly
and in utter silence.
Kirk's legs began to ache. He had fought off
his exhaustion for SQ long that he could not even
remember when last he had slept. He kept
going.
A young child let go her father's hand. She walked with
great dignity to Spock's side, and followed for a
few paces. She looked down into his face,
saluted him, and whispered, "Live long and
prosper, Spock." Then she slipped away and
vanished into the crowd again.
Sarek waited on the steps of the temple,
accompanied by several dignitaries and by six
members of the priesthood. The tall, stately
women watched with utter impassivity.
Finally Sarek strode forward to meet
them. Kirk stopped, no longer sure what he should
do.
The music faded so gradually that he was uncertain
of the transition between sound and silence.
Sarek gazed at Spock. He reached down and
placed his long, graceful hands against the sides of
Spock's face. Kirk wanted nothing more than
to grab him and shake him and make him explain what
would happen now. He glanced sidelong at
McCoy, who had reached the raw edge of his strength.
Sarek said nothing. He took one pace
backward and nodded to the members of the priesthood.
They moved between Kirk and his friends so easily, so
gently, and with such assurance that they hardly seemed
to be displacing them. The women took Spock in their
hands and carried him away. Sarek followed.
Kirk watched, astonished. The Vulcans
carried Spock easily, but their hands were not
underneath his body.
They were on top of it.
STAR TREK 111
Kirk hurried after them.
He passed between massive stone pillars and
stopped at the edge of a circular,
slightly dished platform. An altar rose at its
far side. T'Lar, the leader of the Vulcan
priesthood, waited in stately silence as her
subordinates brought Spock to her. They began a
low chant that penetrated to the bones.
Sarek paused and faced Kirk.
"This is where you must wait."
Unwillingly, Kirk obeyed. The music began
again. Sarek faced the altar as his son's body
sank gently to the age-smoothed granite and lay
motionless as stone. Lee music and the chant ceased
simultaneously.
"Sarek," T'Lar said. Her voice, barely a
whisper, carried to them sharp and clear. "Sarek, child of
Skon, child of Solkar. The body of your child breathes
still. What is your wish?"
"I ask for fat tor pan," Sarek said. "The
refusion."
"What you seek has not been done since ages
past. It has succeeded only in legend. Your
request is not Iogicah,"
"Forgive me, T'Lar," Sarek said. He
sounded very tired, and Kirk realized this must be the most
difficult thing he had said in a hundred twenty
years. "My logic falters . . . where
my son is concerned."
T'Lar looked beyond Sarek to Kirk and his friends.
She looked Kirk straight in the eye. Her
gaze, as sharp as a weapon, touched him, then
granted him mercy. She turned her attention
to McCoy.
"Who is the keeper of the katra?" The question,
clearly, lay in ritual; she knew the answer
to what she asked.
Sarek nodded at McCoy. McCoy stared
straight ahead, fixed by the power of T'Lar's
eyes.
"Bones was Kirk said urgently under his breath.
The Search For Spock
McCoy finally replied. "I am," he said
hesitantly. "McCoy . . . Leonard H."
He took a long breath of the rarefied air of
Vulcan. "Son of David and Eleanora . . .
his
"McCoy, son of David, son of Eleanora
. . ."
McCoy shivered.
"Since thou art human, and without knowledge of our
philosophy, we cannot expect thee to understand
fully what Sarek has requested. The
circumstances are extraordinary. Spock's body
lives. With shine approval, we will use all our
powers to return to his body that which thou cost
possess his essence. But, McCoy . . ."
T'Lar let the silence surround them and press
down against them. Kirk could see the faint sheen of
sweat on McCoy's forehead.
"You must now be warned," T'Lar said,
speaking with complete formality. "The danger to you is
as grave as the danger to Spock."
Now Kirk shivered, and tried to tell himself it was
only the rapid cooling of a desert at night.
"You must make the choice." T'Lar waited for
McCoy"'9 reply. Her dispassionate
expression offered neither encouragement nor warning.
McCoy, in his turn, let the silence stretch
out.
"I choose the danger," he said. Under his breath,
to Kirk, he muttered, "He11uva time to ask."
Kirk repressed a smile and fought down a
laugh, knowing it to be a laugh of apprehension. He
and McCoy both knew the choice to be
between madness and the risk of death.
"Bring him forward!" T'Lar said.
Sarek led McCoy across the long empty
platform and stopped before the altar. Kirk knew
he could do nothing, yet he hated letting McCoy
go alone, to face . . .
STAR TREK 111
A bolt of heat lightning shattered the silence.
McCoy let Sarek draw him forward to the
altar. Abruptly he stood all alone.
Spock lay before him, and T'Lar stood above them
both. McCoy was aware of music, a
rhythmic chant, and the thin sharp sighing of the wind.
The powerful voice of the Vulcan leader echoed around
him. "All that can be done, shall be done, though it take
full turn of the Vulcan sun."
T'Lar stroked her fingers along his temple.
Her touch was like fire, and he gasped. An alien
consciousness stirred deep within his mind.
Terror-stricken, he struggled against it.
The voice he heard was wordless and silent, yet so
loud he feared it would strike him deaf. He could not
see, and he feared he had been blinded as well.
"Yes! Strive, fight! Employ the power of
shine alien emotions! Wrest back thy life!"
Thunder pounded at him, and he screamed.
Built high on the slopes of Mount Seleya,
the retreat of the adepts of the discipline of ancient
thought had grown and changed over many
generations. Its hallways and galleries cut
deep into bedrock. It was said that they looped back
upon themselves and never reached an end; it was said that one could
wander through them for a lifetime and never walk the same
path twice.
Amanda Grayson, student and adept of the
discipline, citizen of Earth, knew of no one who
claimed complete familiarity with the maze. Most of the
deepest caverns had long fallen inffdisuse. Even
the most ascetic of Vulcans preferred open
spaces, open air, and the heat of the huge red sun.
The retreat overlooked the plain at the foot of
Seleya. Amanda stepped out onto her balcony,
into
The Search For Spock
darkness. The face of the retreat stretched away
to either side, a long stream of carven rock. Its
organic curves and graceful arcs flowed easily
and imperceptibly into balconies, pathways,
entrances, windows.
Amanda put her hands on the smooth
surface of the parapet. The stone held the heat of the
day, though the air had already grown chilly.
Long stretches of time often passed during which the
plain far below remained deserted. In all the years
Amanda had studied the discipline, she had never seen
more than a few people at a time approach the temple.
Citizens who had reached the death of the body were brought
to Mount Seleya by close family members, perhaps
by comrades with whom they had formed
intellectual ties. The studentadepts then
helped the citizen sever the bond between body and mind,
between substance and soul. After that, the body could go to dust
and ashes, but the presence retired to the Hall of
Ancient Thought. Always before, the studentadepts
carried out the procedure in private, in an
atmosphere of calm. comtilde
All that was changed. An enormous, silent,
curious crowd had gathered on the plain. Their
torches cast an eerie glow over the land, the
courtyard, the temple. The light was far too dim
for Amanda to see the processional, but she knew every
detail of the ceremony. She followed it, in her
mind, as if she could affect it with her imagination and
carry it to the conclusion she sought. And perhaps she could.
She dared not try to reach out to her son with her
thoughts, not now, not yet, but her heart was with him.
T'Mei knocked softly on the door, entered,
and paused at the balcony's doorway. The young
Vulcan was still many years away from adding "adept"
to her title of student, which Amanda had done not too
long before. Adepts of the discipline never abandoned the
STAR TREK 111
appellation, "student." They preferred always to be
reminded that the universe still held things they did not
know. T'Lar, the most learned of them all, had
recently and without comment ceased to use the title
"adept." She now called herself merely student.
"Amanda?"
"Yes, child."
"Do you need anything?"
"No, my dear," Amanda said. "I don't need
anything, except to have my wishes answered."
"I cannot do that," T'Mei said.
Amanda smiled. "I know it. Come stand by me."
T'Mei joined Amanda on the balcony. She
moved so gracefully, with such self-possession,
that she made hardly a sound. Her dark gold hair
fell free past her waist.
"One of your wishes is to be in the
temple," T'Mei said.
"Yes. I never thought I'd live to see the time
when my own son was a subject of the discipline.
Certainly-I never would have wished it! But now I do
wish I could be there. Spock is balanced between
refusion and oblivion and I can't even help him!"
She slapped the parapet with anger and frustration. From
the time of her marriage to Sarek she had known that
to adopt Vulcan
manners completely would be her destruction.
Exhibiting her emotions beyond all courtesy would have
run counter to her own upbringing, but neither did she try
to smother or deny her feelings. At the beginning of her
training, this all-too-human characteristic counted against
her, but she proved herself worthy nonetheless.
Once in a while she appreciated, and even
envied, the equanimity of Vulcans. For Amanda,
the days since Spock's death had been an
unending succession of powerful emotions grief when
the news first came, and 290
The Search For Spock
hope of saving his presence, then a desperate
anguish when it seemed that even Spock's katra
had been lost. And now she was faced with the powerful,
incredible possibility that her son still might
live.
But it hasn't been easy for Sarek, either,
Amanda thought. Equanimity or no, he's felt
these past days deeply.
I"...Mei rested her elbows on the parapet and
gazed thoughtfully down at the temple.
"It would be most fascinating to attend the
refusion," she said. "It is unlikely that this
precise constellation of circumstances will recur in
our lifetimes."
"Or in this millennium," Amanda said. "But I
want to be down there for personal reasons not
historical ones."
"Your position is ironic," T'Mei said.
"A studentadept, yet a relative of the
subject, when the subject is unique."
"Ironic's hardly the word for it," Amanda said.
No studentadept could ever participate in, or
even observe, the transfer of a close relative.
The katra was fragile and easily lost. To free
it from the bearer and place it in the Hall of Ancient
Thought; the studentadepts formed delicate,
temporary psychic ties around it, and dissolved them
again on completing the passage. If mental
connections already existed between a subject and
an adept, as they did when the two belonged to the
same family, the resonances created an interference
that invariably proved disastrous.
How the interference might affect the refusion, no
one even attempted to speculate.
When James Kirks message arrived, it had
a galvanic effect on the inhabitants of the
retreat. Many questions had to be answered instantly,
questions that for generations had been discussed, analysed, and
debated without any final
resolution. Amanda would have had no 291
STAR TREK 111
time to prepare her case, even had she wished
to argue against her exclusion from the ritual which she did
not. She knew from the beginning that she could not be a
member of the group that assisted her son. She
understood the logic of avoiding such a completely
unnecessary risk. But her intellectual acceptance of
matters did absolutely nothing to diminish her
emotional desire, her need, to be in the temple,
to try to help.
"It is unfortunate that you must forgo participating
in this unique experience," T'Mei said.
"I don't give a hang for the uniqueness of the
experience!" Amanda said angrily. She
had to switch to
Standard to get her point across. Vulcan was far
too refined for what she had to say. "Dammit!
Right this minute I wish I'd never studied the
discipline!"
"Amanda," T'Mei said, perplexed, "I do not
understand."
"If I weren't a studentadept, I wouldn't
endanger Spock just by being near him! At least I
could be down there! At least Sarek and I could be together
tonight!"
She turned away from T'Mei and stared down at
the bright sparks of the torches. She was furious at
her helplessness and at the injustice of the universe,
too furious even to cry.
T'Mei stood beside her in silence, unable
to comprehend her hope, her grief, her anger, or
her love.
Jim Kirk was exhausted. He had spent the
long cold Vulcan night knowing he could do nothing but
wait, knowing that it would make sense . . . that it would
be logical . . . to rest. But he was too tired
to sleep, too keyed up. It seemed that this night
he might lose all the people who meant the most to him.
He had lost David already, and he had not
even been permitted to contact Carol and tell her
what had happened. Or, rather, he had not been
prevented, but it had been made clear to 292
The Search For Spock
him that if he left the mountain and the temple before the
end of the ritual, he would not be able to return. To the
Vulcans, the stricture seemed completely
logical. To Kirk, it seemed a cruel choice.
In the end, he had stayed. He could not help his
friends, but he could not leave them, either, not when they both
ran such a tremendous risk.
Jim envied Scotty, sprawled against a stone
pillar, gently snoring. Chekov sat with his knees
pulled to his chest, his arms folded, his head down.
Uhura lay on the stone with her cheek pillowed on
her hand, as lithe as a cat, and, Jim thought, as
alert, even in sleep. Saavik waited for the
dawn, her legs crossed beneath her, her hands palm
down and relaxed, her eyes open and
unblinking. Sulu knelt motionless on the stone,
sitting seiza with his eyes half closed.
Kirk strode from one pillar to the next and back
again, trying to fight off the bone-deep chill. At
night, what little moisture was in the Vulcan air
condensed out as frost. Kirk's lungs ached
and his throat was dry and raspy.
He made himself sit down; he pretended to rest.
The stars in Vulcan's empty sky were marvelously
bright and clear. The dawn-wind began to blow, cold
and harsh, whipping up dust-devils from the desiccated
land.
Within the space of a few breaths the stars faded and
vanished, and the sky changed from black to a
brilliant royalpurple. The dawn-wind died
abruptly. The scarlet disk of Epsilon
Eridani burst above the horizon, casting
impenetrable shadows through the temple and searing the
desert as it had at every dawn for countless millennia.
A gong rang.
Kirk leaped to his feet.
T'Lar appeared first. She lay supine in a
sedan chair 293
STAR TREK 111
carried by the dignitaries who had waited
silently all night long. Kirk took a step
toward her, but she neither stirred nor opened her
eyes. The power she wielded had drained and
exhausted her, leavin g her wan and frail. The
Vulcans bearing her toward the dawn passed Kirk
without acknowledging his presence.
McCoy stepped wearily into the sunlight that
pierced the shadows behind the altar. Though Sarek
supported him, the doctor was moving under his own
power. The members of the
priesthood, tall and serene in their long hooded
cloaks, followed behind. The Vulcans remained
completely impassive, showing neither exultation nor
despair.
For gods' sakes, Jim cried in his mind, what
happened? What happened?
At the end of the procession, a single figure,
robed in stark white, moved past the altar. The
hood was so deep, the robe so brilliantly
white, that the thick scarlet light of dawn
obscured the being's features rather than illuminating
them.
Nearby, Saavik drew a quick breath of
recognition? Of distress? Jim Kirk could not
tell.
He became aware of his shipmates, if that term
had any meaning for them anymore. They
clustered dose around him, Sulu and Uhura on
his right, Chekov and Scott on his left, the engineer
stiff and sore and sleepy. Saavik stood a little
apart from the rest.
As the procession crossed the platform, Sarek
broke off from the group and brought McCoy to join his
friends. Sulu moved forward to help support him.
"Leonard was Jim said.
"It's all right...." McCoy said. Weariness
faded his voice to a whisper. "I'm all right,
Jim."
Sulu drew McCoy's arm across his shoulders and
supported most of his weight. McCoy
managed a smile, 294
The Search For Spock
a grip of his hand on Sulu's upper arm, as he
accepted the aid gratefully.
The white-robed figure at the end of the
procession walked past without a glance or
hesitation. Jim still could not see beneath the hood, but he
knew the stride, the carriage. Saavik started
toward the figure, but Jim grabbed her arm. He
could not stop her if she chose to break free, but she
halted at his touch.
"What about . . . Spock?" Jim said
to Sarek.
"I am not sure," Sarek said. "Only time will
an-swer." He turned his head toward the robed
figure, then back to Jim.
"Kirk. I thank you." Sarek's voice, if
not his words, admitted that the night's work might have
failed. "What you have done is his
"What I have done, I had to do," Kirk said
harshly. He thought he saw a flicker of
sympathy, even of pity, in Sarek's eyes. He
did not want pity.
"But at what cost? Your ship." The lines around
his eyes deepened. "Your son...."
Jim felt that if he acknowledged what Sarek was
trying to say to him, his whole being would shatter with
grief.
"If I hadn't tried, the cost would have been my
soul."
Sarek nodded, accepting Jim's unwillingness
to speak any further or any deeper. He turned
and walked silently away. Vulcan's star hung
just above the horizon, an enormous scarlet disk,
silhouetting first the procession, then a tall and
solitary figure. The wind whined mournfully and
fluttered the edge of the white robe.
Jim shaded his eyes with his hands, squinting into the
dawn for one last glimpse of his old friend.
Live long, he thought. Live long and prosper.
And the figure slowly turned. 295
STAR TREK 111
One of the members of the procession heard or sensed
his motion and reached back, but Sarek stayed her hand.
The sun shone incandescently through the fabric of the
white hood, from behind, casting the face into deep
shadow.
He hesitated, then walked slowly toward Jim
Kirk and his friends.
He stopped, reached up, drew the hood back from
his face, and let it fall to his shoulders.
The pain had left Spock's face, the pain,
and the horrible emptiness, His deep gaze questioned Jim
gently and wordlessly. An intent intelligence,
impatient with uncertainty, lit his eyes.
He glanced from Jim to each of his other shipmates
in turn Sulu, Uhura, McCoy, Chekov,
Scott; and finally Saavik. It seemed to Jim that
he reached the brink of recognition with each of them, but
could not quite cross the boundary.
Spock returned his gaze to Jim Kirk. The
hot wind of Vulcan wailed over the desert with a
keening cry.
"I know you . . ." His voice rasped across the
words. "Do I not?"
"Yes," Kirk said. "And I, you."
"My father says you have been my friend. You came
back for me."
"You would have done the same for me," Kirk said,
willing Spock to remember something from before, something that
had happened before they brought him home.
"Why would you do this?" Spock asked.
"Because was Kirk fumbled for words that would form even a
tenuous connection between past and present. "Because the
needs of the one outweighed the needs of the many."
Spock stared down at him, still without real
recognition. He turned away again and took a
few uncertain
296 The Search For Spock
steps toward his father, toward the other Vulcans.
Kirk reached out, but he knew he had been right when
earlier he prevented Saavik from stopping him. They
might provide a key, but none could force Spock
to remember.
What could I have said? he wondered. What was the
right thing?
He let his hands fall.
A few paces away, Spock paused. He
looked up into the deep sky.
"I have been . . ." he said.
At his strained and tortured voice,
Jim moved instinctively toward him.
"... and always shall be ... your friend...."
"Yes," Jim whispered. "Yes, Spock."
Spock half turned. "The ship," he said.
"Out of danger. . . ?"
"You saved the ship, Spock You saved us all!
Don't you remember?"
Spock said nothing for a moment. He cocked his
head, as if listening to some far-away inner voice.
He arched his eyebrow and slowly faced Jim
Kirk.
"Jim," he said softly. "Your name is Jim."
"Yes!" Jim's voice broke, and he caught
his breath.
Spock nodded once, briefly, as if
acknowledging to himself that he had found the proper path.
He glanced at McCoy, and then at the others.
Suddenly all his old shipmates clustered around
him, laughing and crying at the same time. None of them
knew for certain an instant of what the future would
bring, but each knew that for now, for this moment, everything
was all right.
297 COMPLETELY NEW NOVELS Join
Captain Kirk. Mr. Spock and the crew of the
Enterprise in totally original
adventures. Written
by an array of major science fiction authors.
these Journeys through the galaxies are sparklingly
fresh and exciting sagas.
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Correy S2.95 836323 BLACK FIRE
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by Robert E. Vardeman S2.95 833987 THE
PROMETHEUS DESIGN
by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath
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DuaneS3 50 . 47315 YESTERDAY S
SON by A. C. CrispinS2 95 46541
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Vardeman S2.95 46543 THE TRELLISANE
CONFRONTATION by David Dvorkin S3.50
47390-5 CORQNA by Greg Bear S2.95
47388-3 THE FINAL REFLECTION by John
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