Chapter Four

Whatever one prefers to call it—Starfleet Command, Fleet Headquarters, or the Admiralty—it is centered in a structure which thrusts itself magnificently spaceward out of the redwood forest of San Francisco’s old city peninsula. Although some museum cities have taller buildings preserved from the industrial past, Starfleet’s headquarters are still a distinctive landmark in this world where so much of the clutter of our lives has been placed underground.

Just under two hours ago, Kirk had taken the tube from Gibraltar to Los Angeles Island, where he had caught the first northbound airtram. Now, fifteen minutes later, the clear blue waters of San Francisco Bay were in full view. As always, the sight of Starfleet’s headquarters seemed to make Kirk’s heart beat a bit faster. Since his midshipman days, he had always admired the clean symmetry of the design and its dramatic combination of space and Earth materials. There was an almost storybook castle suggestion in the way its tritanium-blue superstructure rose up out of its gray-granite base. It had always been to Kirk a statement in architectural poetry about a very necessary relationship between the mud below and the stars above.

Today, however, no such thoughts entered Kirk’s mind. He was an angry and disillusioned man, with much of his anger and bitterness directed at himself. How was it possible he could have spent almost three years so totally blind to the fact that the commanding admiral had been manipulating him?

“Starfleet in five minutes.”

It was the computer’s routine announcement, signalling descent. Below them Kirk could make out the sparse line of slender pylons whose microwaves beamed power and guidance up to the tram.

In only a few minutes, he would begin a confrontation that would decide whether he remained in Starfleet, or lived, or died, or even gave a damn which of these happened. The key was Commanding Admiral Heihachiro Nogura. Kirk had no doubts left about why Nogura had ordered Lori Ciana to make her holocom visit to Gibraltar. Faced with all the pressures of the Intruder emergency, the commanding admiral had hurriedly assigned Lori to placate a potentially troublesome James Kirk. Nogura must have assumed that since she had managed Kirk so well once, she would find a way to do it again. But this time Kirk had finally felt himself being manipulated.

Does familiarity breed contempt even within Admiralties? Perhaps as the recent years passed, a deskbound and miserable James Kirk had seemed easier and easier to manipulate. There had been nothing recently that would remind Nogura, or even Lori, that he was still the same man listed so prominently in the Enterprise logbook. Perhaps he really hadn’t been the same man—at least not until now.

To Kirk, it was as if he had unexpectedly been given the full use of his eyes and ears again. And his full mind. How incredible it had been that he had stopped analyzing, questioning, doubting. In deep space it would have cost lives, perhaps his entire vessel. Here he had even noticed how Nogura had been using him.¹ How could he have missed seeing it?? From the day he had brought his battered starship and crew back from their long mission, Kirk had become uniquely valuable to Nogura. Not to Nogura the man, kindly, a great-great grandfather a dozen times over, and a helpful friend since Kirk’s junior lieutenant days. Kirk’s value was to Heihachiro Nogura, Commanding Admiral, whose oath it was to make any sacrifice or pay any cost necessary to fulfilling his responsibilities to his beloved Starfleet.

The new humans among Earth’s population had become increasingly critical of Starfleet’s cost, of Starfleet’s aims, and of its value. Admiral Nogura could not avoid seeing immediately the value of a living symbol, a carefully designed hero figure who could awe the impressionable and confront the critics with arguments taken from actual experiences out there. And Starfleet would have needed that hero symbol here, not out of sight somewhere on another long starship mission.

Alcatraz Children’s Park had hardly slipped past view on the left when Kirk felt the tram’s inertia-dampeners hum into life—there was no motion sensation at all as the tram dipped sharply to the right, decelerating fast. He caught a quick glimpse of the mirror-blue of the Admiralty towering high above them, and then suddenly the tram was through the Telegraph Hill entry and was settling to a stop at the terminal beneath Starfleet Headquarters.

Kirk was the first out, hurrying through the high domed interior, oblivious to the striking view of San Francisco Bay through the broad tram entry opening. The place was busy, and only later would Kirk remember that most of the facial expressions here, at least the human ones which could be read, were somber and worried. He was unconscious of the fact that his own center of interest had changed completely in the last few hours. Although he still believed he had hurried here out of professional concern over the mysterious Intruder, his inner mind was increasingly thinking of a vessel called Enterprise.

“Commander Sonak!”

Sonak turned, startled to have his name called in public—on Vulcan it would have been a shameful breach of privacy. The Vulcan fleet scientist was still more startled to see that it was Kirk, who certainly knew and respected Vulcan tastes. He knew that some extraordinary urgency could be responsible for such discourtesy.

“Have you received your appointment as Enterprise Science Officer?”

The Vulcan nodded. “Based, I am told, on your recommendation, Admiral. Thank you.”

The “thank you” was unnecessary, but Sonak added it, nevertheless. This human, Kirk, had many times demonstrated himself worthy of respect.

“Then why aren’t you on board?”

Sonak closed his mind to this offensive directness. “Captain Decker requested I complete final science briefing here before . . . ”

Kirk interrupted. “Here at Starfleet? The Enterprise is in final preparation to leave dock . . . ”

“Which will require at least twenty more hours at minimum, Admiral.”

“She’ll leave in twelve hours,” corrected Kirk. “Report to me aboard as soon as possible.”

“To you, sir?”

Kirk nodded firmly. “I intend to have a brief meeting with Nogura, after which I will go directly to the Enterprise.”

Then Kirk turned and strode away, hurrying toward the turbolifts. The Vulcan gazed after him, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. Had this seemed a slightly different Kirk from the one Sonak had known previously? He wished that humans were not such an enigma.

If Kirk had thought of the Enterprise before, it had been as an impossible dream. Starship command was a way of life that a flag officer could never again enjoy, at least so long as that officer stayed in Starfleet. Eventually, the thought of resignation from the service would have come to Kirk’s mind—although he could never know the incredible freedom and independence of starship command again; there were at least other kinds of vessels out there.

As Kirk made his way to Nogura’s office, the Enterprise was very much in his thoughts again. He had no idea, however, how much the need for the Starship was motivating him. He sincerely believed that he came here because an emergency existed and Enterprise was needed—and that he, Kirk, was a better choice to command her than the admittedly talented, but much less experienced, Decker.

“This must be rather difficult for you,” said Nogura. “Captain Decker has been something of your protégé, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, sir, but I don’t see how that makes it difficult. I’ve recommended him for jobs in the past because he was the best man available. In this case, he is not.”

Kirk knew himself to be motivated and determined as he had not been for years—and he had powerful arguments to use. The last five years of Enterprise logs supported his contention that Nogura’s greatest need was not a captain familiar with a rebuilt vessel, but rather one with the greatest possible experience in dealing with deep-space unknowns, such as the one now hurtling toward Earth.

At first Nogura had seemed indifferent and impatient—but Kirk had seen that the Commanding Admiral was also troubled and tired. Logs aside, was today’s Kirk a better Captain than the alert and upcoming young Decker? How much had Kirk been damaged by almost three years on the ground in an unfamiliar and unhappy environment? Ordinarily, Kirk would never have risked this direct a confrontation with the Commanding Admiral. But this was the first real challenge Kirk had faced in these past three years and Nogura, however dynamic and fearsome his personality, was also the man who had manipulated him, used him. This was a battle that Kirk was determined to win.

Kirk could see that Nogura was beginning to question the decision to use Decker, being unusually patient, incredibly so considering his reputation. It was becoming obvious that he must feel genuine regret over the way he had forced Kirk into flag rank.

Kirk had been with Nogura for twelve minutes. He had never known a visitor or decision here to last that long. Then, he felt a chill as Nogura came abruptly to his feet.

“The entire staff considered this at length, Jim,” said Nogura. “I’m afraid that every point you’ve made has already been carefully considered.”

“Admiral, these points were neither carefully nor properly considered since I was not present.” Kirk knew that his only chance now was to challenge Nogura directly. “And now that I am present, I submit that it is your responsibility to inform me of whatever negative arguments were made against my selection.”

As a flag officer and a member of Nogura’s staff, Kirk had both a right and an obligation to know of anything in his professional performance which his peers considered to be substandard.

Nogura’s eyes remained fixed on Kirk’s as five seconds passed, then ten . . . twenty. . . . Kirk fought to keep the slightest expression off his own face. He sensed that everything would be won or lost now in the next minute.

“How badly do you want her back?”

“The Enterprise? I can’t deny it’ll be pleasant to be back aboard her . . . ”

“Jim, I am placing you on your honor. If there is the slightest chance that you are being motivated by anything other than professional considerations of intercepting whatever this is, trying to identify it, making contact with any life forms involved . . . ”

“I don’t understand the reference to honor, Heihachiro. I don’t recall ever lying to you in the past—and I’m certain you never have to me.”

Kirk knew that he had won. He also believed that everything he had said or left unsaid was the whole and complete truth.