16 17

become forgetful embarrassed Chekov; gently, he said, “Captain. Perhaps you have forgotten that tomorrow is the christening ceremony …. “

Kirk clearly had not. A flash of irritation crossed his features, then faded to stubborn resolve as he said curtly, “I’m not going.” He paused, then fumbled at the straps on his body harness. “Scotty, help me with this chute.”

Scott stepped forward and reached for the straps, his expression again stern and reproachful. “What do ye mean, you’re not going? We promised.”

“When I retired, I swore I’d never set foot on a starship again, and I meant it.”

“Captain…” Chekov chided mildly, meaning: We know you don’t really mean it, sir. He was not quite sure what prompted Kirk’s sudden outburst of mulishness, except possibly the recent disappointing news that Spock and McCoy would not be joining them for the christening ceremony. Nor would Uhura, who was vacationing in a far-off region of the galaxy before returning to teach at the Academy, or Sulu, who was off commanding the Excelsior.

“I don’t want to hear any more about it,” Kirk told them both. “I’m not going and that’s final.”

Yes, sir, Chekov almost said, but he and Scott shared a knowing glance; he had heard the uncertainty in the captain’s tone, and would not be at all surprised if Kirk had another change of heart before morning.

In the instant before the turbolift doors slid open, Jim Kirk drew a deep breath and steeled himself. A year before, in his final moments as captain on the bridge of his ship, he had sworn that he would never set foot on

another starship again… for the simple, painful reason that he would never again be in the command chair. Yet despite his protestations to Scott and Chekov the day before, he had yielded to duty, responsibility—and no small amount of curiosity—and accompanied his friends to the christening of the Enterprise-B.

But from the moment he arrived on spacedock, he was unable to shake the feeling that it had been a mistake to come, that something indescribable was wrong. Perhaps it was just the weight of the past and his current pointless existence settling over him, or perhaps the simple disappointment that the friends who should have stood beside him now—Spock and Bones—could not be here. Spock was involved with a diplomatic mission on behalf of Vulcan and could not free himself, though he had sent a terse, elegant message honoring the former crew of the Enterprise-A and congratulating the new crew of the Enterprise-B. As for McCoy, he and his family were attending his granddaughter’s graduation from the Vul-can Science Academy; he, too, had sent a polite message of congratulations to Starfleet—and a private message to Jim, saying: Miss you, old friend. I’ll be with you in spirit ….

Jim’s unease had begun with a restless night of troubling dreams; and in the fleeting second as he stared at the seam in the lift doors, he was haunted by dimly colored images from the night before, from dreams that had been strands of memory braided with imagination:

Yosemite. E1 Capitan. Climbing, gripping cool rock with his fingers, his hands, breathing in sweet Terran air, gazing out at hawks flying past. Spock appearing out of the literal blue, distracting him, and then: