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. ""Opti- mum"! 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 co-operative'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 hot-headed 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 sub-elementary

 

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. "Sta- tion!"

 

"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 sub-elementary 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 con- taminated 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