VARIATIONS ON A THEME 6

by

Sheila Clark and Valerie Piacentini

MURASAKI 312

"Babel conference," McCoy said disgustedly. "Spit and polish, dress uniforms..." He tugged irritably at the collar of the aforementioned offending costume.

Spock concealed a smile. So had the other McCoy spoken, years before in the other universe.

The Vulcan's mind ranged back to the events so long past.

A conference called to debate the admission of Coridan to the Federation. His own father one of the delegates, behaving with barely concealed hostility towards him yet calling his mother to task for supposedly embarrassing him - he had been more embarrassed by Sarek's behaviour, he remembered. The presence aboard the ship of an Orion spy disguised as an Andorian; the attack on the other Kirk by that Orion after the unmourned murder of the Tellarite Gav; Sarek's heart attack.

Well, events would not be exactly duplicated. Sarek would not be aboard, although Uncle Selek would be; but he was a healthy man despite his age. There were no Tellarites or Andorians aboard, nor would there be. Unfortunately, they did have Petri.

Privately, Spock considered him a bad choice of delegate, while conceding Prince Arris's quite natural wish to remove from court the man who had caused his wife so much distress. Whatever the Elasian women's secret was Elaan had certainly used it to good effect on Arris - or perhaps she had not needed to. She had looked almost happy when she made her farewells to them. And Cyon - Arris - had seemed a sensible and sensitive man.

This shipload - three other ships were also picking up delegates - had, with the exception of the contingent from Vanla, been picked up quickly, and they would collect the Vanlans on their present course while still a full day's travel from Babel. With almost all their entire complement of diplomats on board they could return to standard uniform for most of the trip. They could not afford to waste time, but they had several days in hand; a steady warp one would take them to Babel in plenty of time. Captain Shevas' timetable, Spock knew, would require him to travel at warp four after he had picked up the last of his passengers if he was to reach Babel in time.

Just this one more evening...

"Shuttle approaching," came the disembodied voice from the wall speaker. "Honour guard stand by."

The men hastened into position.

"Hangar deck pressurising ... hangar deck pressurised."

The door slid open; the guards hurried to their assigned places. The shuttle door opened; the occupants emerged.

"Welcome aboard, Ambassador Selek," Spock said formally, raising his hand in salute.

"Spock." Selek's gaze travelled past the Captain to Kirk. "James."

Kirk saluted gravely. "Ambassador Selek."

"Dr. McCoy."

McCoy knew better than to try the salute. He half bowed. "Ambassador."

T'Kara now stepped forward, and was greeted in her turn. Both Kirk and Spock - and to a lesser extent McCoy - were relieved that Sendak was not with his parents. Then Spock dismissed the honour guard.

"I will take you to your quarters, Uncle. I trust you and my aunt will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner tonight?"

"Thank you, Spock. That would be most enjoyable."

Spock wished he could agree.

Kirk joined Spock in the mess, carrying his customary cup of coffee. Spock's eyes smiled a welcome.

The First Officer smiled back. Neither needed words to express their pleasure in each other's company; their half-formed bond let each of them know that the other was content.

Not until his coffee was finished did Kirk break the comfortable silence.

"Spock."

"Yes, Jim?"

"We have time in hand, don't we."

"You know we do. Ah - you would like...?"

"To investigate the Murasaki Effect, yes."

Spock thought about it.

The ship's scientific personnel - and through them, the Captain - had standing orders to investigate certain stellar phenomena, and the Murasaki Effect was one such. Few ships had passed near it; the few that had, had had little time to investigate it. From these reports, it was known that the gaseous cloud that formed the Murasaki Effect glowed because inside it was a young sun known to have planets. Murasaki 312 was a surprisingly strong radio source, too; even sub-space communications were subject to interference while in the vicinity of the Murasaki cloud, although this was intermittent.

It was hardly surprising that Kirk, knowing they had time in hand, would want to investigate, and indeed, Spock's own scientific interest was aroused. He had never been near the Murasaki Effect in his own universe, although he had heard of it, and had it not been for the presence of the various diplomats aboard the Enterprise he would gladly have joined his Science Officer in an investigation of the Effect - but it would not be exactly tactful for a Captain who had never served in the science department of a ship to absent himself at this time for a scientific exploration, no matter how brief. Certainly, if he went, he could expect Uncle Selek to approve and support him; all he needed to do, with Selek, was say, 'My bondmate wishes my assistance'.

But no. Outside the Vulcan family circle, their bonding was still a secret to everyone but McCoy. It would not be fair to expose Jim to the speculation and gossip that would surely follow any public announcement of their bond. Many Humans still regarded same-sex relationships with distaste, and their circumstances made it impossible for them to admit that theirs was an emotional union only.

Kirk waited patiently, knowing that Spock must consider all the implications of stopping for a 'mere' scientific investigation in the middle of a diplomatic mission.

Finally -

"I don't see why not," Spock said. "Such a stop is covered by standing orders. Of course, we would have to limit our exploration to - at most - forty-eight hours." He was rewarded by the excitement on Kirk's face. "How do you want to go about the investigation?"

"A11 the reports we have so far were gained from long-range scans," Kirk replied. "I thought that closer investigation in a shuttlecraft might be useful."

"Who did you think of taking?"

"Well, I'll need an astrophysicist - Boma would be best - he's made a special study of young stars, and it wouldn't do any harm to take Gaetano along - he's relatively inexperienced, but how else will he learn? With Boma there to keep him right, it would be valuable experience for him. I thought of Latimer from the geology department, in case we get good readings from the planets; we'll need a biologist, too - pity all the experienced exobiologists were transferred so recently."

"Take McCoy."

"That's a good idea. A yeoman to take notes, and a pilot."

"Any preference?"

Kirk shook his head. "Whoever's top of the duty roster will do fine."

"For the yeoman, I agree; not for a pilot. This could be a difficult flight - we don't know enough about the system to assume it'll be easy flying. Miss Masters will pilot."

"Yes, sir."

Spock saw the mischief in Kirk's eyes and half smiled. "I know, Jim, perhaps I'm being over-cautious. But it could be dangerous - we don't know what eddies and magnetic currents might be in there, and... well..."

Kirk laid his hand over Spock's. "We won't take any unnecessary chances, Spock. I promise."

The shuttlecraft Galileo lifted out of the hangar deck with a half clumsy soar. If the Enterprise was an elegant swan gliding smoothly through space, the shuttlecraft were ducks - effective flyers but far from graceful.

Spock watched the ungainly little craft on the viewscreen, wishing, as it rapidly diminished in size, that he was in it.

Uhura swung round. "Report coming in from the Galileo, sir. They are having difficulty in obtaining any positive readings ... there's static interference..." Spock could hear the crackling for himself. "I can barely read them, sir - something about they're being pulled off course."

*Jim!*

There was no answer.

Spock drew a deep breath. This, if ever, was not the time to panic. "Get a fix on the Galileo, Mr. Sulu."

"I'm sorry, Captain. Something's disrupting the scanners. Nothing makes sense."

"Something wrong, Captain?"

Despite himself, Spock jumped. Recovering instantly, he swung round in the same movement.

Earth Commissioner Ferris stood there.

"Why do you ask, Commissioner?" Really, of all the inconvenient times for the man to take advantage of his right to come onto the bridge...

"I noticed that we appeared to have stopped; and since our journey to Babel is of the utmost priority - "

"We have three days in hand, Commissioner, and are taking advantage of the fact to investigate Murasaki 312 - according to our standing orders."

"I don't like it, Captain - nor, I am sure, will any of the other diplomats on board. This Babel conference is of the utmost priority," he repeated.

Spock was irresistibly reminded of Nilz Baris, from the other universe; a little man with a high position who strove continuously to be as important as he thought he should be.

"I am well aware of that, Commissioner."

"Then why waste time with a mere exploration of a gaseous cloud? I'm quite sure, if you felt you had to stop and take readings, that a sensor scan from here would have been fully informative."

"Commissioner Ferris, Murasaki 312 has already been documented in that fashion. Commander Kirk felt that a closer study was in order, and I agreed with his professional judgement."

"But now you've lost contact with the shuttle. You've lost your crew."

"We have two days to find them, and will still reach Babel the day before the conference."

"In all that?" Ferris indicated the screen. "Two days?"

"Are you suggesting that I just go away and leave them - sir?"

"I'm suggesting you shouldn't have sent them out there in the first place."

*Jim!* Again Spock directed his thoughts along the bondmate link. Nothing; either the distance was too great for their half formed bond, or the electric disturbances in the cloud disrupted the mental communication - thought itself being a form of electric energy.

"Sir," Uhura put in. "There is one planet in the system capable of sustaining life. It's listed as Taurus II - oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, bordering on Class M. As far as we can make out with the instruments malfunctioning, it's very nearly dead centre of the magnetic attraction of the cloud."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Mr. Sulu - set course for Taurus II."

"Aye, sir." Sulu's hands moved over the console. "On course, sir."

The bridge door slid open again. Grimly, Spock glanced over. Selek stood there.

"What is happening, Spock? Why have we changed course?"

Ferris did not give Spock a chance to answer. "He sent out a team in a shuttlecraft to explore a gaseous cloud, Ambassador, in spite of the urgency of our mission. Now the shuttlecraft is lost, he's wasting more time looking for it."

Selek looked at Spock, ignoring Ferris.

"Essentially true, sir," Spock admitted. "Commander Kirk was anxious to investigate Murasaki 312 - it is one of the things listed in our standing orders to be explored whenever possible - and I saw no reason to deny him the opportunity, as we have time in hand."

Selek nodded. "I understand. But we must reach Babel on time."

"You will, sir. I will search while I can, then - if we have not found them - I will take you to Babel and then return to continue the search. May I count on your support to obtain permission to do so, sir?"

"Indeed, yes. Come, Commissioner - our presence is merely interfering with Captain Spock's search." He walked back to the turbolift, drawing Ferris after him.

It was a bumpy landing.

The crew picked themselves up from the floor of the shuttle where they had been thrown by the violence of the impact. McCoy sat up, feeling his head carefully, then moved quickly to Boma as he saw the blood on his face.

"I'm all right, Doctor," Boma said as McCoy wiped the blood from a tiny cut at his hairline and fixed a patch over it.

"Sure you are." McCoy moved on to Yeoman Mears. "All right, Yeoman?"

"I think so." She looked dazed but was clearly recovering quickly.

"Latimer? Gaetano?"

Nods answered him and he moved on to the front of the shuttle, where Kirk and Masters were already bending over the controls. "All right, Jim? Charlene?"

"Yes, Bones." Kirk straightened.

"What happened?"

It was the astrophysicist who answered. "I'd say it was the magnetic attraction of the cloud. It just pulled us in."

"But the initial readings didn't show that amount of magnetism, Mr. Boma," Gaetano objected.

"Neither did any of the previous scan reports," Kirk said. "At a guess, the magnetic effect is variable. Agreed, Mr. Boma?"

"It could be," Boma replied. "An ion storm in the middle of a gaseous cloud - who knows just what it could do? A temporary magnetic attraction is more than probable."

Kirk turned to Masters. "How is it?" he asked.

"It's a mess," she answered gloomily.

"Can you do anything with it?"

"I don't know yet." She bent over the console again, checking several wires torn loose in the crash.

Kirk flicked the communications switch. "Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise. Do you read me?"

"You're not really expecting them to hear you, are you?" Latimer asked.

Kirk glanced at him, noting the pale face, the tremor in the young voice. "It is only sensible to try everything available," he replied quietly. He stared at the silent console, utilising another method of communication that nobody here except McCoy knew about. *Spock!*

There was no answer, and he found himself wondering if a completely-formed bondmate link would be strong enough to make contact here. Possibly. But they did not have such a link. He hoped Selek would not be too suspicious of Spock's failure to know where his bondmate was.

"Bones, get me a reading on the atmosphere, please."

McCoy glanced at him. "I'll have to go outside to do it - and if the atmosphere's toxic, it'll get in as soon as I open the door."

"A chance we'll have to take. The life support inside the vessel won't sustain us indefinitely; I must know if we can breathe the air outside."

McCoy reached for his tricorder and headed for the door, pausing to glance through a port. "At least there's green vegetation out there," he said optimistically, and went on. A gust of not-very-pleasant air blew in as he opened the door. "Well, it's breathable," he said, checking. "I wouldn't recommend the place as a health resort - too much marsh gas in the atmosphere. But there is enough oxygen and nitrogen and trace gases in acceptable quantities to do us."

"Bones, is it really methane in the atmosphere?" Kirk asked anxiously. Well though he knew McCoy, he wasn't always certain when the doctor was being serious and when he was being unnecessarily facetious.

"No, Jim. But it sure smells like it."

"Well - unpleasant though the smell is, we'll become accustomed to it very quickly," Kirk commented. "I suggest we move outside and give Miss Masters more room to work. Mr. Latimer, Mr. Gaetano, please arm yourselves and scout the immediate area. Don't go out of sight of the ship."

"Aye, sir." They went to the arms locker for phasers, and, still fastening these to their belts, they jumped out of the shuttle and strode off.

"Jim," McCoy said slowly, "what are our chances of communicating with the Enterprise?"

Kirk shook his head. "I doubt we'll manage."

"You can't contact Spock?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

"I've tried. Nothing. I imagine he's been trying to reach me the same way, too." Kirk's voice was equally quiet.

"They will look for us, though," McCoy went on in a normal tone.

"Yes, they'll look. But we have no communications; and if the magnetic effect that brought us here is as widespread as I think it possibly is, since it pulled us in from so far out, they'll be looking without instruments. That's time-consuming; and they only have two days, three if Spock can persuade the diplomats to cut their time in hand to nothing. After that, they'll have to leave to get our passengers to Babel."

"So you don't think they'll find us."

"Not as long as we're grounded." He glanced over at Charlene Masters. "Fortunately, we have an excellent engineer with us."

It took all of Spock's willpower to make him sit still. Not that pacing up and down ever did anyone any good, but at least it gave an illusion of doing something. He opened his mouth to ask, yet again, if Sulu could not make some sense out of the swirling patterns that were all his sensors were picking up, and forced himself to remain silent.

Jim. Oh, Jim - wherever you are, be careful.

He punched a button on the arm of his chair. "Transporter room - are the transporters operating yet?"

"Still disrupted, Captain," came Kyle's voice. "We tried beaming some boxes, and we've been unable to retrieve them. We wouldn't dare try it with people."

"Thank you." Spock could guess that Kyle was even now thinking of how impatient he was; if the transporters had been operating, of course he would have been told. Well, they couldn't wait much longer before doing something more positive than just sitting here waiting for conditions to return to normal - or whatever passed for normal in this area. Resolutely, he dismissed the fear that these conditions were normal for the region. "Mr. Chekov - what is the present condition of the magnetic effect?"

"If the present decrease in intensity continues unaltered, sir, it should be safe to launch search shuttlecraft in approximately ten minutes."

Assuming we don't have another flare-up of the magnetism, his thought continued. There had already been two minor fluctuations upwards while they waited - so minor that he had not bothered reporting them to the already over-worried Captain, recognising that anything at all the crew could do to keep from adding to that worry could only benefit Spock's nerves. Not that he showed much, Chekov conceded; but the simple fact that anything at all showed was a clear indication to his devoted bridge crew, who knew of the depth of their Captain's friendship with his First officer, that had he been Human, he would have been frantic.

Spock punched another button on his chair. "Hangar deck. Prepare all shuttlecraft for launch in ten minutes. You all know your co-ordinates?"

The voice of the senior pilot answered. "Yes, sir." They had been waiting for this order for several hours.

"You don't really think all this will work, do you?"

Spock jumped. When had Ferris come back onto the bridge? He recovered himself quickly. "I must try, Commissioner. The crew includes some of my senior officers." And my bondmate, he added in silent anguish. "Besides, a commanding officer who is seen to abandon his people without making every attempt to rescue them will quickly lose the trust of his remaining followers."

The intercom buzzed, and Spock left Ferris thinking that over as he answered. "Spock here."

"Shuttlecraft standing by for take-off, sir."

Spock glanced at Chekov. "Is it safe yet, Mr Chekov?"

"Almost, sir. Another two minutes."

"Hangar deck - launch in three minutes. Spock out."

Kirk bent to glance under the control panel, where Masters was working with grim concentration. For a moment she remained unaware of him, then she glanced over.

"It's bad, Jim."

"I'd guessed that. How bad?"

"We might manage to take off; even remain in orbit for a while. But there's no way we can reach escape velocity. If we tried, we'd tear the last of the engine to bits. No, Jim - we're stuck here unless the Enterprise manages to find us."

"You're right," Kirk said slowly. "There's no point in even trying to take off if we're just going to have to come down again." He thought about it for a moment. "Well, we can use the shuttle for a base, for somewhere to sleep. But we're going to have to find water, and see if we can find anything edible in the vicinity. I wonder if Latimer and Gaetano have seen anything. Where are they?"

The others looked round. "You told them scout around," McCoy reminded him.

"Yes - but to stay within sight of the ship. Where are they?" He took a deep breath. "LATIMER. GAETANO!"

There was no reply.

Kirk was aware of anger. "Spread out," he ordered. "Don't go out of sight of the ship - but see if you can find any traces of them."

He, Boma, McCoy and Mears scattered, moving hesitantly over the rocky ground. This was not a good place to stay, Kirk registered. There were some plants, but they were mostly shrubs; the ground itself was a mixture of rocks and sand, with only a few tufts of dry grass fighting a dreary battle for survival. Perhaps they could manage to fly the shuttlecraft to a more hospitable site, where food and water were more obviously to be found.

"Jim! Over here!"

McCoy. Kirk ran. The party gathered beside the doctor.

A phaser lay on the ground. There was no sign of its owner. Kirk looked round. What looked like faint tracks led off, away from the shuttle. He scooped up the phaser, and turned to follow the tracks. "This way - but be careful."

They had gone about two hundred yards when they found Latimer. He was sitting leaning against a rock, grinning stupidly.

"Latimer! Latimer!!"

The geologist grinned up at them. He tried to speak, but all they could hear was a meaningless babble - a babble that seemed to have words in it, but words that they could not understand.

"Where's Gaetano?" Even as he asked, Kirk knew that they would not receive a coherent answer. He glanced at the others. "Get Latimer back to the shuttle," he ordered. "Do what you can for him, Bones."

"Where are you going?" McCoy demanded.

"I'll go on a little further, see if I can find any sign of Mr. Gaetano."

"What if... this... happens to you, too? We're depending on you, you know - you're in command."

Kirk grinned. "Have you forgotten so soon all that Spock taught me? Nothing's going to steal my mind in a hurry."

McCoy looked doubtful. It was one thing to be confident, and McCoy knew well enough that the man who was not confident was more than half beaten before he began; it was quite another to be over confident, and he was afraid that Kirk might be trusting too completely to what Spock had taught him. But Boma was already moving to obey orders; McCoy shrugged mentally, and moved to join him.

Boma paused as he reached Latimer, looking after the departing Kirk. "Do you think he really is that confident, Doc, or is he just trying to keep our morale up?"

"I don't know," McCoy said honestly. "A bit of both, probably. Yeah, I know he's young, but don't let that fool you; he knows what he's doing. Come on, let's get Latimer back to the shuttle."

Uhura looked round from her console. "Captain, the Columbus reports negative results from the land mass she has been searching."

The Columbus was searching an area composed of several large islands. "Have them proceed to the next island, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

"Any word from engineering on the sensors?"

"Still unreliable, sir."

Spock repressed a frustrated sigh. Was there nothing useful that he could do?

"Captain."

Spock consciously ran through a quick Vulcan mental exercise designed to encourage calmness in time of slight stress. It enabled him to answer quietly. "Yes, Commissioner."

"While I do not welcome the thought of abandoning your crew, I must remind you..."

"Vulcans do not forget, Commissioner; nor do they require Humans to remind them of the passage of time."

"Your passengers are becoming concerned at the delay, Captain. They agreed that I should speak to you about it."

"I am quite certain that Ambassador Selek was not among those who are 'concerned'." Watching Ferris, he saw the faint flush.

"Well, no," Ferris conceded. "He simply said, 'Captain Spock knows his duty, and will do it'." He did not, Spock was sure, use the tone of voice that the Captain was certain his uncle had used. "But Ambassador Petri - "

"Ambassador Petri would dearly like to see Commander Kirk lying dead at his feet," Spock said, almost viciously. "Did you not know that? The last time he was aboard, he challenged Commander Kirk to a duel, according to Troyian custom, and was defeated. He has not forgotten. Bearing that in mind, would you consider anything he has to say in this matter other than petty spite?"

Ferris stared at him. He had obviously not known that, and seemed torn between wanting to maintain his inflexible position as spokesman - probably self-appointed - for the various diplomats and unwillingness to seem as if he sided with Petri's vindictiveness. His own inflexibility won. "You have twenty-four hours, Captain."

Spock looked at him. "Twenty-four hours and two minutes."

Ferris glared at him, then turned and strode out. It was a very minor victory, and a completely hollow one.

Charlene Masters was bending over the console, arms buried deep inside it, when Boma and McCoy returned, half carrying the witless Latimer. They helped him to a seat in the rear of the shuttle, where he sat unaware of his surroundings, muttering incoherently to himself. The sound attracted Masters' attention and she glanced round, then looked enquiringly at McCoy, who shrugged.

"We found him like this. There was no sign of Gaetano. Jim's gone on to see if he can find him."

Masters frowned. "Odd. What could turn an intelligent man into a babbling idiot so quickly?"

McCoy shook his head. "Perhaps Gaetano will be able to tell us something if - when - Jim finds him. Meanwhile, I can find nothing organically wrong with Latimer, and I don't have the equipment here to do a proper brain scan. I'm helpless until we can get back to the Enterprise."

She nodded and returned the console.

"How are you getting on?" McCoy asked.

She straightened again. "With a lightened load we could achieve orbit. We couldn't maintain it long, but once we were up there we could contact the Enterprise with more chance of success. I could jury rig the communications equipment to give short-range contact,"

McCoy came straight to the point. "How much lighter?"

"Five hundred pounds."

McCoy made a face. "That's a lot."

"I know. There's practically no excess equipment on a shuttlecraft, either."

She turned back to the control panel.

Kirk strode away from the others, wishing he were even half as confident as he had tried to appear. The mission which had started out so hopefully, and which he had expected to provide much valuable information on which he could work during the tedious wait at Babel while the various dignitaries argued over whatever it was that such people felt it necessary to argue over, had gone terribly, dangerously wrong. Yet this planet should have been a reasonable enough place to stay even although the Enterprise had to leave them while she took the diplomats to Babel. His nose had already adjusted to the invidious stink. There was vegetation - the ground across which he was now walking was green, with healthy-looking grass and an increasing number of bushes. Where there was plant life, there was bound to be water. As long as they had adequate water, they could survive for several weeks even if they could find nothing to eat other than what was contained in the shuttle's survival packs.

But he could no longer assume that the planet was a reasonable place to stay. Something had stolen Latimer's mind, had lured Gaetano away... was luring him away too? No. He was searching for the missing Gaetano, and in full control of his own actions.

He looked to right and left as he went, occasionally turning to glance behind him, but seeing nothing unusual. A small scaly creature scuttled for shelter a short distance away from him, and he made a mental note of at least sparse evolution to the reptile stage.

He became aware of a dawning apprehension, and stopped. He looked carefully around. He could see nothing out of the ordinary; grass, an inch or two long, still showing the faint trail of someone passing, the crushed stems slowly straightening again; the bushes clumped here and there; a few trees raising their crowns high. Something very small moved against the green background; a brownish-green shape that leaped high, covering fully two feet in a single hop, then vanished again into the grass, obviously disturbed by his presence. So - this world had proto-insect life at least, too, although the plants did not seem to have evolved into flowering species yet. He was still wondering if any of these proto-insects could fly when he heard an uneven droning, and glanced round to see a fairly large bee-like creature blundering along just above the grass, occasionally colliding with one of the longer stems until it gave up and sank down, apparently exhausted, to rest.

He moved on.

Ahead of him he saw a break in the even carpet of green; a patch of blue. He ran forward - and stopped abruptly.

Gaetano lay there, obviously dead, an expression of sheer terror on his face.

Kirk stared round, hand automatically reaching for his phaser. What had Gaetano seen? It couldn't have been so very long ago; yet...

Kirk shook his head, trying to think logically. This was a planet still at an early stage in evolution, possibly just about to enter an age of reptiles, Kirk estimated on the basis of what he had seen so far. Anything Gaetano had seen that had - apparently - frightened him to death, was not going to be afraid of another Human, and would certainly begin to attack any other Human it saw. But if some carnivore had so terrified Gaetano, why hadn't it begun to eat him once he was dead?

There seemed to be no answer.

There were a couple of the little lizard-like creatures fairly near, and they didn't seem to be afraid, although Kirk noticed that they seemed to be keeping an eye on him. He smiled ruefully. That was hardly surprising; he was so large in comparison to them that they were probably quite nervous of him - assuming there was a carnivore around, large enough or vicious enough to prey on them. As yet he had no proof that anything large and/or predatory did live there. Though it did seem quite logical to assume that at some point early in evolution, the harmless and inoffensive had no enemies.

But if everything here was harmless or inoffensive, what had frightened Gaetano so?

Another heavy proto-bee floundered past, distracting him for a moment from the merry-go-round of conflicting thoughts; and when he looked back, the little lizards were gone.

Gaetano's body was still warm, and curved easily over his shoulder as he lifted it. He headed back towards the landing site, moving steadily in spite of the weight of the dead man.

Mears saw him coming, and immediately called to the others. He knew instantly that something was wrong; and guessed, from the dejection in Masters' body, what it was.

"Trouble?" He put Gaetano's body down carefully.

"I thought I'd managed to fix the engines so that we could at least take off," she said gloomily. "Then I found that we've practically no fuel left. One of the fuel feed lines was fractured."

"Hmm. Well, that solves one problem - whether or not to stay here till the Enterprise finds us."

McCoy looked up from the body. "He seems to have died from heart failure, Jim - possibly occasioned by fear," he added, looking at the expression on the dead face. "He must have seen something that terrified him."

Kirk shook a puzzled head. "But what? I didn't see anything capable of terrifying a mouse, let alone a grown man." He thought over his short trip in search of the missing man. "I saw one or two small lizards, a couple of bees and a sort of grasshopper. None of those could have frightened him."

"People have some queer phobias, Jim," McCoy pointed out.

"Granted, but how many people with a phobia powerful enough to kill them could get through Starfleet's psychology tests?"

"Depends on the phobia," McCoy said gloomily. "I remember one case, a few years ago, when I was serving on the Defiant. Steady as anything - I'd have sworn that man didn't have a nerve in his body. Then one day he was on landing party duty - a simple routine mission, no problems - and I saw that man turned into a gibbering idiot by the sight of an army of ants picking over a dead bird. Turned out that as a very young child he'd been attacked by an army of soldier ants and quite badly bitten. He'd been rescued by his parents, who'd managed to get rid of the ants swarming over him by dousing him in water, and he had no conscious memory of the incident. He'd come across ants before and they hadn't worried him - it was seeing them stripping that bird of flesh that triggered off the terror. It took us ages to find all that out too, I may add. Now I grant you that's an extreme - and unusual - case; but if someone hadn't been with him to see how he was going and do something about it, would he have been frightened to death, without anyone knowing the reason?"

"There was nothing like that around where Gaetano was. Just a couple of the lizards - and a bee flew along while I was there. There's another puzzle too, Bones - why did he go off like that? Did he go off before Latimer went insane, or after? And what drove Latimer insane?"

McCoy shook his head. "I don't know. He's still completely incoherent." He glanced round nervously. "I don't know about you, but I keep feeling there's someone watching us."

Mears nodded. "I feel that too," she said nervously. "I keep wanting to look over my shoulder to see who's following me."

Kirk glanced at Boma. "What about you?"

"I'd be happier if we knew what had killed Gaetano," he said bluntly.

"Charlene?"

"I'm all right, but I've been inside the shuttle, and busy. Even if someone was watching us, I'd probably not be aware of it."

"Well, I didn't see any sign of large life forms, though the lizards looked as if they weren't too sure of anything my size. Back on Earth, the wild life of remote islands completely lacked the fear reflex, and it destroyed them ... but the creatures here do seem to possess the fear reflex at least sufficiently strongly to make them wary, so presumably they know of something large enough to be a danger to them. Whether it's large enough to be a danger to us, of course, is something we can't know without seeing it."

"Transporter room to bridge."

"Bridge; Spock here."

"The transporters seem to be working at full efficiency now, sir."

"Security - beam down search parties immediately. Post your men in pairs over as wide an area as possible."

"Aye, sir."

It was a big planet. It would be sheer luck if any of the men sent down found any sign of the Galileo this soon. But he had to try. Privately, he pinned more hope on the searching shuttlecraft.

Charlene had returned to her apparently futile task of going over the engine. McCoy kept watch over the sedated Latimer. Mears took notes of what she could observe from the immediate vicinity of the shuttle, while Kirk and Boma buried the dead Gaetano.

Kirk patted the last sod into place and sighed. "It was such a useless death."

Boma glanced uneasily over his shoulder, then murmured, "He looks lonely there."

"Perhaps; but I don't think it's likely to worry him, and I'd prefer it if he didn't have company."

"No, sir." He glanced round again, licking his lips nervously.

"What's wrong, Mr. Boma?"

"I... don't know, sir. I keep getting this feeling of being watched."

Kirk glanced round in his turn. "I don't see anything, and there isn't much shelter anywhere around."

"I know, sir - but there's something there. I know it. And it's dangerous."

"We should be safe enough inside the shuttle." Kirk headed back towards it. After a moment, Boma followed.

Inside the shuttle, Masters looked up, an expression of guarded optimism on her face. "Jim, I think I can get us mobile."

"I thought the current problem was lack of fuel?" Kirk asked.

"Yes, but I can use an alternative fuel supply. The biggest problem was patching the broken feed line. But I can by-pass the fractured line - luckily the Galileo is an older model; the new design incorporates an 'improvement' that would make it impossible. Then I can use the power packs from the phasers as an alternative fuel. I'll need to drain the power into the Galileo's cells, which will take some time, but I can do it."

"How long will it take, Charlene?"

"Near enough twenty-four hours, sir." An official report. "I can't speed up the time it will take to drain the phasers."

"Can you do anything about communications while the phasers are draining?"

"Sorry, sir, I've already done all I can. The damage is too extensive for anything approaching an efficient repair; it needs several replacement units. Once we make orbit, we'll have short range contact but that's all."

"All right, Miss Masters, carry on. Gentlemen, give your phasers to Miss Masters, please."

"But they're our only defence against whatever is out there," Boma complained.

"At the moment, Mr Boma, whatever is 'out there' exists only inside our imaginations," Kirk pointed out. "We have as yet seen nothing that could endanger us."

"Gaetano did," Boma muttered. "And Latimer saw something too."

"I'm forced to agree with Boma," McCoy said quietly. "Can't we give Charlene the phasers one at a time, and retain the others for defence as long as possible?"

"We'll need as much power from the phasers as possible if we're to achieve orbit," Masters put in. "As a fuel, the power from the phasers is far less efficient that the proper stuff."

"Give Miss Masters the phasers," Kirk repeated. "We should be safe enough from... anything... inside the shuttle. If we keep the door open, life support will be no problem; we are in a clear area, and will see anything approaching long before it arrives."

Reluctantly, they obeyed. Kirk moved to the door and jumped down, gazing towards a distant clump of trees. McCoy joined him.

"You're not thinking of going exploring just because you don't feel you're being watched, are you?" he asked bluntly.

Kirk smiled slightly. "It does seem a pity to waste the opportunity, Bones." His smile widened. "Look."

One of the proto-bees was bumbling along. McCoy watched it for a moment, then turned his tricorder onto it. He checked the reading.

"Hmm. That could be quite a deadly little thing, Jim. It has a sting that could pack quite a punch even for someone our size; it must be lethal to anything small that it stings."

"But it doesn't look aggressive. Which means that it has evolved a defence against larger enemies."

"Jim, you're making a basic mistake which, as a scientist, you shouldn't make. It could just as easily be an offensive weapon; used to kill possible prey. Just because it looks like a bumble-bee, and that unsteady flying looks cute, you're prepared to take it too much at face value. I'm on this trip as biologist, remember, and as biologist I'm reminding you that what looks harmless in nature isn't necessarily so. Even on Earth, some insects have rather nasty bites or stings. People have died of - say - wasp stings, yet hardly anyone thinks of wasps as dangerous - they're regarded as rather bad-tempered little so-and-sos with painful stings; a nuisance rather than a danger."

Kirk looked at him. "You're right, Bones." He surveyed the landscape. "The whole place looks so beautiful, though, in a primitive sort of way. I haven't seen anything higher on the evolutionary scale than lizards, and even the insect life is primitive, barely able to fly yet; the plants don't seem to have reached the stage of producing flowers, which would mean, right enough, that there are no harmless nectar-eaters - our 'bee' has to have some source of food other than nectar - but everything looks harmless."

"And something among your harmless creatures terrified one man to death and left another a mindless imbecile."

"You shouldn't have had to remind me of that," Kirk admitted. He watched the proto-bee sink into the grass near his feet and then vanish into a tiny hole in the ground. "It's getting dark. We'll stay inside the shuttle - with the door closed - during the hours of darkness." He looked around again. "But tomorrow we must look for water, whatever else we do. Even if Charlene can get us off the ground by late tomorrow, we'll need something to drink before that."

"Ration the supply in the shuttle," McCoy suggested as they turned back to re-enter the small vehicle.

"Not enough," Kirk said succinctly. "When the fuel line fractured, it contaminated the main water tank. We only have what's in the portable container."

McCoy looked at him. "Charlene told you?"

"She didn't want to worry anyone else."

"She should have told me. I'm the doctor, dammit."

"Probably. But you were busy with Latimer at the time."

McCoy grunted, and swung himself into the shuttle. Kirk gave one last look around, noting the presence of a couple of the little lizards, just visible about a hundred yards away in the gathering dusk, and followed, wondering if the little creatures always went about in pairs, and if so, whether they were in fact mates. It seemed unlikely that he would find out.

As his watch ended, Spock reluctantly handed over command to Sulu and made for his quarters. His inclination was to remain on the bridge, but he knew that at the moment he could do little; if he was needed, Sulu knew where to contact him.

He walked briskly out of the turbolift and headed down the corridor, nodding a polite acknowledgement of the greeting given him by a passing crewman. Once inside his cabin, however, he sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

Jim. Oh, Jim.

He permitted himself only a moment of relaxation, then resolutely straightened and turned to his desk. There was work that he still had to do, routine reports to be filed - including one on today's events. Reluctantly, he began to formulate that report.

The buzzer interrupted him before he had finished the first sentence. Torn between irritation and relief, he looked up. "Come."

Selek entered. Spock drew a deep breath, instinctively knowing that this interview was probably going to be difficult. In public, Selek would support his decisions; here, in private... Spock wasn't sure that he would not have preferred Ferris.

"Is there no word, Spock?"

The Captain shook his head. "Nothing. The sensors are still inoperative, the search shuttles have covered less than a quarter of the planet, the ground search has had to be called off over the main continent because of approaching darkness; and communications has failed to elicit a reply."

"What of the bonding link?"

"Nothing. It is possible that the electrical disturbances in the surrounding space are sufficient to disrupt even telepathic communication."

Selek looked thoughtful. "It is possible," he conceded slowly.

"I am quite sure that James, too, has tried to reach me through the bonding link," Spock went on. He allowed his fear for the Human to show briefly on his face, aware that too great control would seem suspicious to the older Vulcan, even although it was only the control learned as a child that was enabling him to remain functioning.

"You are sure that he is not dead?"

Yes, Selek was suspicious of their loss of contact. Had he been less alert Spock thought he might have made an incautious answer and thus betrayed them instantly. "He cannot be," he replied quietly. "If he were, I might live, since he is Human and I, only half Vulcan; but I would not be able to function rationally. Even if I had not felt his death, my mind would know it." That at least was true, he thought.

"Of course." Selek seemed satisfied by the comment.

"As it is, I am finding the lack of contact unsettling," Spock added. "And Commissioner Ferris is not helping by his continual visits to the bridge, 'reminding' me of how time is passing. I could almost believe that he is glad that this has happened; that he would be glad to hear that my people have been killed or were irretrievably lost."

"Surely not," Selek protested.

"He was opposed to our stopping in the first place. It seems to me that he is currently occupied in saying 'I told you so'; that he would be glad of the opportunity to do so more forcefully. He is not a man who can hold a high position gracefully."

"That is so," Selek agreed. "I have encountered Mr. Ferris before. He is 'in love with his own importance', as your mother once described a petty official in my hearing. It was quite an apt comment; I have never forgotten it."

"It would be of considerable assistance to me if you could keep Mr. Ferris off the bridge," Spock said. "I can ignore him - but if he were to 'throw his weight about', as James would say, with Mr. Sulu or Mr Chekov, he could do some damage."

"Of course," Selek agreed.

"The electrical disturbance is easing," Spock went on. "But very slowly. I may have to leave, to take you to Babel, before it eases sufficiently to allow me to re-establish contact with James." As well to leave Selek thinking that he believed that to be the cause of his inability to contact Kirk. "Until that happens, I must search by whatever means are open to me, no matter how inefficient these means may appear. It would be impossible for me not to do so."

"Yes, of course," Selek agreed.

The night passed slowly. Charlene Masters worked steadily for several hours after Boma and Mears settled down to obtain what sleep they could; Kirk remained alert in case there was anything he could do to assist the Engineer; McCoy fussed over the sleeping Latimer. Finally Masters looked up. "I can't do anything more," she said simply. "I've fixed the power packs to drain; they can do that whether I'm paying attention to them or not." She yawned. "I think I'll get some sleep too, Jim."

Kirk nodded. "Yes." He glanced over at McCoy, who was now sitting staring moodily at his patient. "You can't do anything more either, Bones. Grab some sleep while you can. I'm going to."

McCoy grunted. "Someone should stay on guard."

"Against what?" Kirk asked, slightly amused.

"Against whatever killed Gaetano and stole Latimer's sanity."

"Bones, we're shut in here. Nothing outside could possibly get in. We haven't seen anything bigger than a lizard a few inches high - how could anything that size possibly reach the door release, let alone have the strength to press it?"

"I know, I know - but I'm worried, just the same. You said the lizards seemed nervous."

"Well, yes, but dammit, something two feet high would be a danger to them," Kirk pointed out, "but still not be big enough to endanger us while we're in here."

McCoy subsided, grumbling slightly to himself. Kirk smiled and dimmed the light, leaving only the emergency roof light to keep the dark at bay.

*Spock!* He tried once more to reach his friend's mind, but received no reply. With a resigned sigh he curled up on his seat, and dozed off.

"Jim! Jim!"

"What's wrong, Bones?" Kirk blinked heavy eyes open.

"Latimer's gone!"

"What?" He sat up sharply, shock dissipating the last drowsiness instantly.

"The door was open. I don't know when he wandered off, or why, but he was gone when I woke. Boma has gone to see if he can find any trace of him."

Kirk became aware that Mears and Masters were still in the shuttle and were watching him uncertainly.

"Why didn't you waken me sooner?"

"Because you wouldn't waken," McCoy said bluntly. "You were sleeping like... well, like you'd been drugged."

"I was?" Usually he slept lightly, a habit acquired through years of insecurity. Well, time enough to consider that later. He went to the door.

Boma was scouting round barely a hundred yards away. Kirk crossed to him. "Anything?"

"I can't see any tracks - sir." Boma's voice was barely a tone off insolent.

Kirk looked sharply at him. "You think I should have mounted a guard, Mr. Boma?"

"Something got in and took Latimer away - sir."

"Or Mr. Latimer left of his own accord," Kirk suggested.

"I don't think so - sir. Latimer didn't seem able to make any independent action."

"Last night. He might have recovered during the might."

"I would doubt that, Commander," McCoy said. "Latimer's mind seemed completely gone."

Kirk looked round without replying. "Well, we'd better see if we can find him. Miss Masters, continue working on the engines. I don't doubt that you've already made a completely efficient repair under the circumstances, but the slightest improvement you can make can only increase our safety margin. Everyone else, spread out. Be careful. Try to keep someone else in sight of you at all times."

Unwillingly, they scattered.

Kirk set off, his mind a prey to uncertainty. He could see no reason for the suspicion/hostility that was being directed at him by Boma in particular. As far as he knew, neither Latimer nor Gaetano had been particularly friendly with Boma; the astrophysicist had no axe to grind as far as they were concerned. Unless... was the man afraid, and masking his fear with bravado? It was possible.

He studied the terrain closely as he went, watching for the splash of blue that would be so conspicuous here in this world of unrelieved green and withered brown, watching for McCoy on one side of him, Mears on the other.

"Commander!"

It was Mears, her voice sounding unsteady. He turned and ran towards where she stood, staring downwards.

Latimer lay there, obviously dead. His body had been partially eaten by something; there were big gashes on the uneaten arm where sharp teeth or claws had torn at him. His face held no pain, no terror; just the same blank unawareness that had marked his expression yesterday.

McCoy dropped to his knees to examine the body. "He might have been dead before whatever it was found him and made a meal of him," he said quietly as Boma pounded up. "But I wouldn't like to guarantee it."

"So we'll never know what happened," Kirk mused. "What was wrong with him, or - "

"Is that all it means to you?" Boma demanded. "Just a mystery you can't solve?"

Kirk looked steadily at the older man. "No, Mr. Boma, that is not all it means," he said coldly.

"Whatever it was is going to kill all of us if we stay here," Boma went on harshly. "It's watching us now, waiting its chance - "

"Mr. Boma, you have too vivid an imagination," Kirk said sharply. Yes, the man was frightened.

"Boma's right," Mears said. Her voice was trembling on the brink of hysteria. "We are being watched. Whatever is watching us wants us dead."

"If we are being watched, it is more likely that whatever is watching us merely wants us to go away," Kirk said reasonably. "But I am far from certain that we are being watched. I think you are all letting your imaginations run away with you. The planet is - as far as we can see - uninhabited, except by creatures not very high up the evolutionary scale. It's all very quiet - too quiet, perhaps. We're not used to it, and our minds in part reject it. Would you agree with that assessment, Doctor?"

"Well... yes and no," McCoy said. "Yes, the mind can play tricks on us, and humanity does reject - at a subconscious level - the idea of complete aloneness. Even loners like to know that company is there if they should want it. So even an imaginary watcher fills a psychological blank. But I, too, feel that we are being watched, and by something inimical. I feel apprehension, for no good reason that I can see."

Kirk looked round steadily. "The only living things in sight - apart from ourselves - are two of those little lizards."

Mears looked over towards them, and drew her breath in with a sharp sound that was almost a scream. She stood motionless for a moment, then turned and ran for the shuttle.

"Yeoman!"

She ignored Kirk's cry and ran on. McCoy started after her, Boma at his heels. Kirk took a deep, frustrated breath, and bent to haul Latimer's body over his shoulder. They might as well bury what was left of the man beside Gaetano.

As he walked away, he noticed that the lizards had again made themselves scarce.

Spock had resumed the bridge, unable to remain in his cabin any longer. Not that he was doing anything positive on the bridge either, but at least it gave him the illusion of activity.

Uhura swung round from her console. "Captain, one of the landing parties has beamed back aboard... One of the men is in an unstable mental condition; his partner thought it best to return him immediately to the ship."

"Put the man on visual, Lieutenant."

"Lt. Kelowitz, Captain."

"What happened, Lieutenant?"

"I don't know, sir. We'd split up to cover slightly more ground, and were keeping in touch by communicator - the place appears to be almost completely deserted.. Just a few lizards and insects about. When Immamura didn't answer my call, I went to look for him - found him sitting against a rock and babbling about Paradise. He didn't even seem to be aware that I was there. So I contacted the ship, sir."

"Very well. You saw nothing that could have accounted for Lt. Immamura's condition?"

"No, sir. I wondered at first if he'd come across some hallucinogenic plant, but it all seems to be ordinary grass and bushes - the tricorder didn't show anything cut of the ordinary."

Spock frowned. slightly. He was interrupted by Uhura. "Sir, another report - this time they have one dead, sir. They're beaming up."

"Lt. Kelowitz, stand by for further orders."

"Aye, sir."

"Lt. Uhura, put the survivor of the second party on."

"Aye, sir. It's Lt. Garrovick, sir."

"Report, Lieutenant."

"There's nothing much to report, sir. We were about a hundred yards apart, making for some high ground that was going to give us a good all-round view of the area we'd drawn, when I heard Ensign O'Neill scream. Just once, sir, a single terrified scream. When I looked round, he was down; by the time I reached him, he was dead. Sir, he looked scared out of his wits. But there wasn't anything to be scared of. Just grass and trees and a few insects."

Spock's frown intensified. "Tricorder readings?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, sir. But..."

"Well?"

"Sir, I did get the feeling that I was being watched. Nothing definite, just a sensation that someone was watching me."

"The tricorder showed nothing out of the ordinary," Spock reminded him.

"I know, sir. I realise I must have been imagining things, but... well... it was a very positive sensation, and it did worry me a bit."

Kelowitz broke in. "Sir, I had the same feeling. But my tricorder didn't show up anything either."

"How close were your two parties?" Spock asked.

In the transporter room, the two men looked at each other. "I was at bearing 387 mark 4," Garrovick said.

"I was at 179 mark 8," Kelowitz. added. "Nowhere near Garrovick."

"You detected no intelligent life forms?"

"None, sir," Garrovick said.

"The lizards read like they might be developing intelligence," Kelowitz said. He sounded a little doubtful.

"Very well, gentlemen. You saw no sign of the Galileo at either of your landing sites?"

"No, sir."

"Then have yourselves beamed to another area and search it. And be careful, gentlemen."

They buried Latimer in a shallow grave dug by Kirk. Not even McCoy was willing to leave the Galileo for long enough to assist him. Mears had collapsed in tears inside the shuttlecraft, but finally pulled herself together; Boma and McCoy helped cover Latimer's body - a task which took relatively little time - and all three retired to the shelter of the Galileo.

Kirk stood in the doorway and looked at the others. "We need water," he said quietly.

Mears shuddered. "I'd rather go thirsty," she said unsteadily.

Kirk sighed. "Yeoman, if you could tell us what frightened you..."

She shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "I felt threatened - but all I could see were the lizards, and it couldn't have been them - could it?"

"Yeoman, they are - at most - six inches tall. Hardly big enough to be a danger to anyone," Kirk pointed out. "My tricorder readings show them to be completely harmless."

"Mears is right," Boma said roughly. "They were warning us about something, I'm sure."

"Warning us and frightening us aren't the same thing," Kirk said wearily. He looked over to McCoy. "Bones, do your readings indicate where the nearest water is?"

McCoy waved roughly behind the shuttlecraft. "About half a mile that way," he said.

"Then I'll take the container and go for some," Kirk decided.

"I'll come with you," McCoy offered.

Kirk looked at him and smiled, appreciating the courage that pushed aside fear - even an imaginary fear. "All right, Bones. I'll be glad of your company. The rest of you, stay in the shuttle."

"Yes, sir," Mears acknowledged.

The two men set off briskly. Once they had gone far enough to be completely out of earshot, Kirk said, "What do you think, Bones?"

"I'm not sure what to think," McCoy said frankly. "I agree with the others; I feel we're being watched, and I feel apprehensive. You, on the other hand, feel nothing?"

Kirk shook his head. "The first time I was out, when I was looking for Gaetano, I was aware of a slight apprehension, but nothing out of the ordinary; nothing I wouldn't have expected to feel when faced by something mysterious and inexplicable. I certainly didn't - and don't - have any sensation of being watched."

McCoy looked at him. "Jim, you have one advantage denied to most Humans."

"What's that?"

"Vulcan training. Spock taught you how to shield your mind - how to close it to any outside influence."

Kirk looked at him thoughtfully. "Bones, are you saying that I'm ignoring a danger the rest of you are aware of? That I automatically close my mind to anything that might threaten me?"

"It's possible. Look at it this way, Jim - for a long time you were living on your nerves, with fear a constant companion. You suffered considerable mental torture - you came, I'd say, to think of real pain as mental. The physical abuse you suffered - that was nothing, was it, compared to the mental abuse?"

Slowly, Kirk nodded.

"Then you learned mental control. You've been applying it ever since. Oh, not as completely or as thoroughly as Spock does, but you're far more controlled than is normal among Humans. And you do still tend to run away from any situation that you feel threatens your peace of mind."

"Only when I think I might hurt someone else," Kirk protested.

"Jim, you can try to avoid hurting others, but you can't live your entire life by that; you can't let that control how you live your life. But that's beside the point. We feel that something is watching us - threatening us. You don't. Could it be because at the first touch of awareness of danger, you retreat behind those barriers of yours?"

Kirk looked at him. "I don't know..." he said. He set his lips, and concentrated. "Bones, the only barrier in my mind right now is the automatic one that cuts off the background mush of emotions that telepaths pick up. It also acts to shield a nearby telepath from my emotions. Just a normal shield. I'll try to drop it..."

McCoy watched him silently for a moment. He looked round. "Hmmm. I see what you mean, Bones. A definite feeling of being watched. But there isn't any malice behind it; just caution."

They walked on.

Beside the water, they found one of the little lizards. It was lying motionless, its eyes open, and in them, startling for an animal, was an expression of helplessness - then, slowly, euphoria took the place of the more negative emotion.

"That's like Latimer," McCoy whispered.

One of the proto-bees flew up from beside the little body, flying more strongly than any Kirk had yet seen. McCoy watched it go, a puzzled expression on his face.

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

"I'm not sure," McCoy replied. "Something I ought to remember..."

They filled the water container once McCoy had checked that the water was pure, and drank deeply, then headed back towards the shuttle. Neither felt inclined to linger despite the pleasantness of their surroundings - the terrain here, near the water, was thick with lush vegetation. Their noses had long acclimatised to the stink.

Part way back, McCoy stopped dead. A group of lizards was crossing their path - lizards much bigger than the ones they had so far seen. One of them looked round, and McCoy shuddered at sight of their cruel fangs. It was undoubtedly one - or more than one - of these that had partly eaten Latimer.

Kirk glanced at him in some surprise. "What's wrong, Bones?"

"Those lizards."

"What about them? They look perfectly normal to me - bigger than the ones we've seen so far, more obviously carniverous, and a bigger group than we've seen up to now, but hardly - Now what the...?"

The group of lizards had scattered and were running as if for their lives.

"Something's terrified them." Kirk exclaimed. "But what?"

A proto-bee was flying after one of the lizards, showing a far greater turn of speed and flying ability than Kirk would have believed possible from what he had seen of them so far. McCoy suddenly grasped at his head, gasping in pain, while Kirk's mental shields snapped into place at the first touch of fear; the bee half hesitated, and then flew on. The lizard disappeared in the long lush grass; the bee vanished after it. A moment later, McCoy lowered his hands slowly.

"Well, that answers one question," Kirk said wryly. "The lizards are telepathic, probably on a very basic level, and the bees prey on them."

They walked on soberly.

Back at the shuttle, they were greeted with relief by Boma and Mears, who looked slightly calmer, and Masters, brisk as always.

"We should manage to take off in about an hour," she reported as Kirk issued a much-needed ration of water.

"Fine," Kirk said. "And we've found out something of what's been bothering everyone; the lizards are telepathic, possibly unconsciously so, and broadcast a sort of telepathic distress signal if they feel themselves in danger. At least, that's the nearest hypothesis we can come up with."

"Sir - will the Enterprise still be there when we get off the ground?" Mears asked tremulously, one fear replaced by another.

Kirk thought for a moment, "Possibly, Yeoman - possibly not," he said. "Captain Spock will stay as long as he can, of course, but his time limit must be running very low by now. However, if the ship has gone, we can always land here again."

"Can we, Commander?" McCoy asked. He was looking out of the door, and now stepped backward and touched the control to shut it.

Kirk looked at him curiously.

"I don't think we have to worry about the lizards," he said, "but I'm not so happy about the bees. Look."

Kirk peered through the port.

Several proto-bees were flying towards the shuttle; more were arriving even as he watched. They were flying quite strongly.

Kirk shook his head. "Almost as if something has attracted them here," he said, his voice puzzled.

"They could have sensed our presence," McCoy suggested. "Smelt our blood or something."

"But why?" Mears asked, her voice shaking.

"We did see one chasing a lizard," Kirk said thoughtfully. "It may be they're parasitic, feeding off other creatures. But what I don't understand - the ones I saw earlier were very clumsy fliers - not like that." He indicated one that was beating persistently against the clear plastic of the forward port.

"Perhaps the clumsy ones were all males," suggested Masters.

All three men stared at her with varying degrees of indignation. "I mean," she said patiently, "that it's usually the female insect that needs to find a host species. Either to paralyse and lay her eggs on to provide food for her young, or to suck blood from - or else her eggs wouldn't be fertile. So the females would need to be good fliers. But the males wouldn't require to be particularly mobile; all they would need would be enough mobility to find a mate - and in fact, if they had enough sex appeal, the females would come to them."

"Yes," Kirk said slowly. "You could be right, Charlene."

She shrugged. "Thank my upbringing in an area with a lot of biting insects."

Kirk nodded ruefully. He, himself, should have remembered that. McCoy, too; the truant memory recalled too late to be of value.

The last few minutes dragged interminably. The proto-bees were now clustered all over the shuttle, obviously knowing full well that inside were potential hosts for their eggs, and Kirk realised that if they were forced to return, they would be unable to leave the protection of the shuttle - and would die, their life support exhausted, before the Enterprise could possibly return from Babel for them.

"Ready," Masters said at last. They took their places.

The bridge door slid open. Spock knew without looking round that Ferris had come onto the bridge, and was now standing looking at him with that self-satisfied expression that so infuriated the crew. Indeed, Spock realised, Ferris was undoubtedly the most disliked of all the Ambassadors and Commissioners on the ship - even Petri was preferable, for Petri acted out of the unconscious arrogance of a minor feudal lord while Ferris was known to have risen 'through the ranks' by ruthlessness. That his ruthlessness was coupled with ability had certainly assisted him; it was just a pity that he had not learned to use diplomacy when dealing with his subordinates as well as with his enemies.

"Captain."

Spock forced control onto himself, deliberately subduing his dislike of the man. "Well, Mr. Ferris?"

"Your time is up. It is time for you to leave here and take us on to Babel."

"I have search parties out still - "

"Captain," Uhura interrupted. "Another landing party reports a casualty. Like Immamura, sir - babbling."

"Beam them up first," Spock directed. "And then get everyone else up. Recall the other shuttles. We will return after we deliver the delegates to Babel."

"Yes, sir."

He looked at Ferris. "We will be on our way shortly, sir." His voice was curt. "I trust you - and your colleagues - will not be too disturbed by a ten minute delay? We do, after all, have twenty four hours in hand still."

The door opened again, and Selek came to join Ferris. "Is there any word?" he asked quietly.

"None, sir," Spock replied equally quietly.

Selek nodded, once. Ferris said suspiciously, "Are you sure it will take no more than ten minutes to recall your crew?"

"I am quite sure that Captain Spock will not delay," Selek said smoothly. "He knows his duty to Starfleet." He threw Spock a sympathetic glance before continuing, "We should leave him to his duty, Commissioner. We are only delaying him by interrupting him."

Ferris grunted, but allowed himself to be ushered out. The suspicion crossed Spock's mind that the Human was somewhat flattered by Selek's attention - though not enough to persuade him to agree to any further delay even should Selek suggest it.

The Captain returned to the intercom. The Captain knows his duty... "Dr. M'Benga, have you taken charge of your new patient yet?"

"Yes, Captain. He's exactly the same as Immamura - muttering incoherently and not seeming to recognise anyone. It's almost as if they were drugged."

"Examine the possibility, Doctor. Mr. Kirk's party might be having the same trouble."

"Of course, Captain."

Spock stared at the swirling clouds that were all the viewscreen was showing of the planet beneath. Down there, somewhere... And in a few minutes, they would have to leave - leaving Kirk - and McCoy - and Charlene Masters - and some of his crew - to the unknown danger that had robbed two of the searchers of their minds, and possibly killed a third. Damn Ferris! Without him and his petty obstructionism they could have taken a third day, even a fourth, and by travelling faster still reached Babel in time. Selek would certainly have supported Spock should any of the other diplomats have objected. Well, that was an unproductive train of thought to pursue. Ferris was present, and it was a waste of time to wish that he was not.

"All the landing parties have beamed aboard, sir," Uhura reported. "No more casualties. The first shuttle is just coming in to land. The others are about five minutes behind."

"Very well, Miss Uhura. Mr. Sulu - set course for Babel."

"Aye, sir." Obediently, Sulu's fingers began to run over the board.

Was there anything left that he could do? Kirk was surely trying to repair the Galileo, would attempt to lift off if it were at all feasible. Well, another few minutes wouldn't make much difference, and they could easily make up the lost time without Ferris being any the wiser. "Speed - half sub-light. Keep all viewers on the planet until further orders. Sensors, too - as we get further from the heart of the cloud, they might begin giving us some positive readings."

The weight of the bees added tremendously to the strain on the engine, labouring as it was under a barely adequate alternate fuel. Masters admitted later that if Latimer had survived and been with them, his added weight would have prevented them from taking off at all. Slowly... Slowly... then gradually faster and faster the shuttle rose, shedding proto-bees in a steady shower as the rarefying air half stunned them and they fell from their limpet-like agglomeration, one by two by three, the weakest first until finally the last handful tucked away in the few corners where something bee-sized could lodge died in the airless void as the Galileo finally achieved orbit.

Kirk reached for the communicator button. "Kirk to Enterprise. Kirk to Enterprise."

Nothing.

Masters' repair, which she said would give short-range contact, had not been sufficient. Their signal was still too weak to reach the Enterprise.

*Spock!!!* He sent the thought as strongly as he could along the bonding link just as Masters said,

"We're losing power, Mr. Kirk. The extra weight as we took off used up too much fuel. We have approximately five minutes left. Shall I descend again, try for a controlled landing?" She glanced sideways. "Mr. Kirk?"

*Spock!* *Jim!* He could only just make out the relieved thought.

*Hurry - we've only got a few minutes.* Now that the link had been made, it was easier, though the touch was still tenuous. "No, Miss Masters. A part of his mind was aware of what she had asked. "Keep us up as long as possible."

"Yes, sir." She looked at him once more, then away.

"You can't!" Boma exclaimed. "We'll burn up if we don't go down now!"

"Would you prefer to be eaten alive by the bee larvae?" Kirk asked quietly.

"Eaten..." Boma fell silent, not questioning Kirk's comment.

"Fuel exhausted," Masters reported. "Orbit beginning to decay. I'll keep as shallow a line of descent as possible, but - "

*Spock - hurry!*

*We're almost there, Jim.* Spock looked at Uhura. "Are we within transporter range yet?"

"Another thirty seconds."

So close. Too close. He could sense his bondmate's knowledge of imminent death, though not what was about to cause it. He clung desperately to Kirk's mind, wishing yet again that they did have a full link.

"Energise as soon as we are within range," he said.

There was a short silence. Then Sulu said quietly, "The shuttle has just burned up, sir."

So that was the danger. Their sensors, though now able to show the Galileo once Spock knew where to look for it, were not yet sensitive enough to give that sort of detail.

He had lost contact with Kirk's mind. And then, like a solar flare, he became aware of it again even as Uhura swung round from her console.

"Transporter room reports five beamed safely aboard, sir. Mr. Kirk is among them."

Kirk leaned back against Spock's legs with a sigh of contentment. Spock echoed it.

"Jim. I was terrified that I'd lost you this time."

"It was close," Kirk admitted. "It would have been wiser, I suppose, to have stayed put on the planet - I knew you'd have to leave soon to take the brass on to Babel - and taken off once I was pretty sure you were back again - but it was too dangerous. We'd have died of suffocation long before you could have got back. Those bees were deadly."

"Yes - I saw that. However, since Dr. McCoy knew what he was looking for, Immamura and Strang have a good chance of complete recovery. What about the lizards?"

"I feel sorry for them. There were at least two different kinds that we saw, and both showed signs of evolving intelligence, but their lives are constantly at risk - what with the bees parasiting on them. Their telepathic abilities have evolved as a defence, I'd guess. Whether it'll serve them until they can develop a civilisation, I don't know - and frankly, Spock, I don't think I want to go back and find out! I've got quite a lot of material in the tricorders to work on, so Starfleet will get a pretty comprehensive report on that part of the planet at least - but I think I've done my share of exploring the Murasaki Effect."

"So do I," Spock agreed.

"How concerned was Selek - that you couldn't contact me?"

"He was somewhat suspicious - but the fact that you finally did contact me through the bond seems to have satisfied him."

"Thank heaven for that. Well, we shouldn't have any more problems now till we reach Babel."

"Except that the bridge crew must be wondering how I knew where you were, all of a sudden," Spock commented.

"Let them wonder," Kirk said. "It's nothing to do with them."

Spock smiled, then reached for his harp and began to play softly. Kirk settled comfortably, totally content.

SPOCK'S LOG

So we have survived another danger.

I must admit to having experienced considerable concern during the last two days. Not only was I unsure of Jim's condition, I found Ferris's attitude a constant distraction. He seems to dislike me - and possibly Jim as well - and I cannot understand why, for we have no indication that Ferris ever met the Captain, and Jim certainly never met the Commissioner before now. Perhaps it is merely one of those inexplicable dislikes that Humans sometimes experience.

Selek could also have been a problem to me during this time; although I think I was able to convince him that it was only the unusual magnetic effects prevailing in the area that prevented my contacting Jim through the bondmate link, especially since in the end it was the link that drew me to him. However, I also think we will have to be cautious in our dealings with Selek for a while.

A full bonding link. It draws me more than I would have considered possible, in the old days when my telepathic abilities were only barely awakened. But I cannot - will not - try to persuade Jim to commit himself to me so fully. I could easily persuade him, I know; he offered it even before he knew exactly what it meant, and we have become even closer since then. But he still depends on my strength more often than I think he is aware of - just as I find myself depending on his strength more often than he realises. And I think that if we were to bond fully now, he would always depend on me to some extent - and I want our final bonding, if indeed we can ever have one, to be a true meeting of equals.

Jim did well on Taurus II; even though two men died, he brought the others safely home, in spite of their fears. He had nobody but himself to lean on, since only he was unaffected by the irrational fear that affected everyone else, and he did so successfully. It is a good sign.

Now to get the various diplomats safely to Babel. Last time things nearly went wrong. I can only hope that the differences this time are such that the trip will go smoothly.

THE JOURNEY

Kirk whistled softly as he strode along the corridor. Murasaki 312 was already twenty-four hours behind them; Babel, still a week ahead. He had a considerable amount of information on Taurus II to research, which meant that he would have plenty to do on this milk run. The thought that he would be able to avoid encountering most of the diplomats - except Selek, of course - was cheering.

He rounded a corner to find a known figure approaching.

"Good afternoon, Ambassador Petri." Little though he liked the man, downright rudeness was not Kirk's way.

The Troyian Ambassador marched past without deigning even to look in Kirk's direction. The Human smiled ruefully, shrugged unconcernedly, and continued on his way.

Further along the corridor, Petri fell into step with Ferris, who, it seemed, might almost have been waiting for him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Petri," Ferris said.

Petri grunted what might have been an answer. Ferris continued, apparently unperturbed.

"Have you thought any further about the proposal I made to you?"

Petri scowled. "I do not like the idea," he growled. "It seems to me that you would expect me to run all the risks in the endeavour, so that you can benefit."

"Not at all, Mr. Petri," Ferris hastened to assure him. "Granted, you would be running some risk - I would simply be backing you - but wouldn't it be worth it, to regain honour in the eyes of your own people?"

Petri's scowl deepened. He had no idea of how Ferris had found out about his recent disgrace (in fact he had heard two crewmen talking, added that to the information given him by Spock, and come up with a reasonably accurate conclusion). That Ferris should use the information to - in effect - blackmail him was doubly galling.

He hated Kirk, and Spock only fractionally less so; but at least he could respect them. Ferris he did not even respect, for Ferris was trying to coerce him into something that he could not see would necessarily advantage him by much. Granted, it would be sweet to be revenged on the two men he held primarily responsible for his own humiliation - but he could not even guarantee obtaining his revenge, and it was always perfectly possible that he might be held to have dishonoured his own name even more.

"Why do you hate the Human so much?" he asked, more to give himself additional time to think than because of any real curiosity.

"Not the Human - the Vulcan," Ferris replied coldly. "I have a score to settle with him; and the best way to settle it would seem to be through the Human."

"It is not the Troyian way," Petri said. "If we have a quarrel with anyone, we challenge that one; we do not seek to involve anyone else in our dispute. I am not willing to do this."

"You cannot refuse," Ferris told him. "If you do, I will spread it about that you are seeking to murder Kirk. We have been seen together more than once; you are known to have supported me in my attempts to get the Enterprise on its way to Babel without wasting time at that gaseous cloud. If I could only have forced the Vulcan to leave sooner..." He glared at the Troyian. "It is widely supposed that we are friends. If I tell one or two people - in confidence - that you wish to see Kirk dead, I will be believed - especially since I can also tell them why."

Petri glowered, considering the threat. Ferris was right - it might very well be believed. He cursed his stupidity in allowing himself to be gulled by Ferris's apparent friendship. Why had he allowed his normal distrust of outworlders to be overruled? Nobody would believe such a story of a Troyian under normal circumstances, but he had already been caught out cheating. Such a lie might well be believed of him.

He had no choice. "Very well," he said ungraciously. "You give me no choice. But be warned; what you do dishonours me even more. I will have blood for it."

Ferris smiled his satisfied smile. "I do not think so, Mr. Petri. You see, I am always very careful. You will be given no opportunity to challenge me to a duel - publicly. In private, my honour does not demand that I accede to such a challenge, and I would refuse it. Nobody on Earth would think the less of a sedentary diplomat for refusing to fight a duel with weapons he has never used -though I will concede that a challenge given in public could be harder to refuse."

Petri's scowl deepened even more. "When do you want me to act?" he asked ungraciously.

"There is no hurry. Choose your own time. We do, after all, have a week."

Kirk was just outside the lab door when the intercom bleeped. "Bridge to Commander Kirk."

With a resigned sigh - whatever it was had to be important for Spock to call him from the research he had himself authorised - Kirk crossed to the nearest intercom. "Kirk here."

"We're picking up some very confused signals, Commander," Spock said quietly. "I need my Science Officer on the bridge."

"On my way." If Spock needed him, everything else could, without hesitation, take second place.

He strode onto the bridge and went straight to Spock. "What's the problem?"

Spock gave a half shrug. "Miss Uhura has picked up some signals. Nothing particularly identifiable. But..." He hesitated. "Jim - " his voice was very quiet - "something like this happened in the other universe. We had an Orion spy on board, disguised as an Andorian, and he tried to destroy the ship. The signals came from his contact ship."

Kirk shot him a sharp look. "We have no Andorians aboard." Even as he spoke he knew he was being unnecessarily literal in his response.

Spock, however, nodded. "Events cannot, in any case, be wholly duplicated. The last time, my father was the Vulcan Ambassador on board - under suspicion of murdering the Tellarite Ambassador."

The Human almost whistled. "Maybe it's as well there are no Tellarites either."

"No. But there are other Ambassadors."

Kirk chewed his lip meditatively. "Who did murder the Tellarite?"

"The Orion spy, of course."

"Of course." He sighed. "You think we should assume some sort of duplication of events?"

Spock hesitated. "Jim, I don't know. Nothing else has ever - quite - duplicated itself. The fact that I know of some... parallels... in itself can provide differences. I can make an educated estimate of what courses of action to avoid." He hesitated again. "One thing - Jim, be careful. The other time... the other time, Jim Kirk was stabbed. By the spy. He very nearly died."

Kirk nodded his acceptance of the warning. "I'll be careful." They exchanged an affectionate look, then Kirk went to his station and bent over his viewer.

He adjusted it carefully, noting the discrepant readings. After a moment, he raised his head.

"A small ship, sir," he announced. "It's at extreme range for the sensors and well outside phaser range. Size indicates a scout vessel of some kind, but the configuration is unfamiliar." He looked over at Spock, reaching for their link. *It doesn't fit any of the Orion designs recorded in the computer.*

*We don't have a record of all Orion ship designs,* Spock reminded him.

*I know. All I say is, it doesn't match anything we have a record of.* Aloud, he went on, "I don't think much of their helm and navigation - they're at extreme range, but they're not holding a constant distance - it's fluctuating considerably.".

"Perhaps they're just having difficulty in matching our speed exactly," Spock remarked.

Her attention still fixed on her console, Uhura cut in. "Starfleet confirms no other authorised vessels in this sector, Captain."

Which means it's probably hostile, and we knew that already, Spock thought. "Try hailing her."

"I've tried all frequencies and tied in the universal translator," Uhura replied. "They don't answer."

"Continue sending friendship messages on automatic," Spock ordered.

"Yes, sir."

It could be chance, Spock thought. Perhaps I'm being over-cautious as a result of what happened in the other universe. But if it's a ship innocently in the area, why does it not respond to contact?

"Increase speed to warp four," he ordered.

"Warp four, sir," Sulu confirmed.

After a minute, Kirk looked round again. "He's definitely following us," he said grimly. "We lost him for a moment, when we first put on speed; now he's caught up again and he's hanging on there, sticking just at the edge of sensor contact."

He and Spock exchanged a long look. Then Spock thumbed his intercom. "Security," he said evenly. "The ship is being tailed by an intruder. I want a twenty-four hour guard on all ambassadorial personnel and a class two security patrol of all corridors until further notice."

"Yes, sir." The Security Chief's voice sounded slightly resigned, and Spock's eyebrow lifted, while he made a mental note to get the Chief replaced as soon as possible. This man clearly thought his Captain was being unnecessarily paranoid about the safety of the visiting diplomats. And while Spock knew he could never explain just why he was being so paranoid, he was not pleased that the man should make it so obvious that he barely agreed with the necessity.

*You can't really blame him,* came to him through the link.

*I know. But a competent Security Chief would accept that such a guard, while perhaps not necessary, was certainly a reassuring precaution for the diplomats. No matter how hard we try to keep it quiet, knowledge of the pursuing ship will certainly reach their ears.*

The next hour passed relatively quietly. Kirk occupied himself by discovering all he could about their shadow, which was very little; Spock thought over past events, trying to think of anything that would help them in their present dilemma, to no avail.

"I'm picking up another signal, sir," Uhura said after a while.

"Give it to Mr. Kirk for possible decoding," Spock directed.

"Aye, sir... Sir, the directional locator indicates the reception point as somewhere inside this ship."

"That was almost to be expected, Miss Uhura."

"Yes, sir."

Kirk looked up. "It's indecipherable, Captain."

Spock nodded. "It's in no known code?" he said, unnecessarily. The same as last time.

"Yes, sir. There is no detectable pattern to help us. If we even knew the original language..." *I've tried Orion,* he added over the link. *No result.*

"Could it belong to any of the subject races of the Klingon Empire?" Spock asked.

Kirk shook his head. "The computer is programmed for those, sir. Nothing. The only conclusion I can come to is that it's completely alien; from no race we have as yet encountered."

Spock's lips tightened. "Miss Uhura," he said quietly, "if that ship starts broadcasting again, I want to know who on board the Enterprise is receiving the signal."

"Yes, sir."

More time passed. Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and most of the monitoring personnel from the various departments were relieved and went off duty; only Captain and First Officer remained in their places. Finally Spock glanced over at his second-in-command, noting the whitening face, the weariness in his half-slumped position. He knew Kirk wanted to remain on duty with him, but now he felt that his subordinate should rest. He said so.

"I'm all right, Captain," Kirk protested.

"Mr. Kirk, you will be of more use to me rested. Go off duty. Mr. Leslie, take over Mr. Kirk's station."

"Aye, sir." Leslie moved from navigation to the science station. Kirk heaved himself wearily to his feet.

"Yes, sir," he said. He crossed to the turbolift, went in. "Deck Five."

He had to force himself to walk out of the turbolift and along the corridor towards his cabin. He was so much tireder than he'd realised...

A faint noise behind him made him turn, but slowly, expecting it to be a security guard. Someone jumped onto him. He struggled fiercely, realising that they must indeed have a spy on board. Who?

...'Jim Kirk was stabbed by the spy. He nearly died'...

No! He must avoid that, at all costs. He couldn't, wouldn't, put Spock through the agony of seeing Jim Kirk stabbed again!

A sharp pain in his back made him gasp even as he realised that he had failed to avoid injury. He struggled once more to grapple with his assailant, pain stabbed afresh at his back, knifing through him, and he collapsed, not quite unconscious but incapable of coherent thought.

*Jim!*

Spock held himself consciously relaxed as pain slid between his ribs, knowing that it was his bondmate's pain he felt. *Jim! Where are you?*

There was no reply. A wave of faintness threatened to overcome him for a moment, and he drew a deep breath, fighting it. The bond had, of itself, become deeper than he had thought if he was experiencing Jim's pain and weakness this strongly. He fought for control, finally managing to push both the weakness and his fear. for Kirk to the back of his mind where they lay, a nagging worry but one which would not prevent his working efficiently. He punched the intercom button on his chair.

"Spock to security. I have reason to believe that some misfortune has overtaken Commander Kirk. I want a phase two search instituted for him immediately."

He switched off, aware that the bridge crew was staring at him in some surprise, knowing that he had added fuel to the speculation already existing, and that even those crew members who had not already heard of his unusual awareness of Kirk's position as they left Taurus II had had their attention drawn to the bond between their senior officers; and that the diplomats, too, would be wondering. Well, let them wonder, as Jim had said. The only one who mattered was Selek, and he understood.

In the corridor, a man stared down at the barely-conscious First Officer and choked back a curse. Now there would not be time to finish his work - the alarm was already raised. But time would do it for him. Bending, he scooped Kirk into his arms, and hurried into the nearest turbolift. There, he realised that the blood dripping from the deep wound would leave a trail that would betray where he planned to hide Kirk to any searchers. Hastily he made a rough pad to staunch the bleeding, tearing the Human's shirt for material to make it.

The turbolift halted at the lowest storage levels of the ship. The man looked guiltily around even though he knew he would see nobody, and then carried Kirk quickly past several doors before finally pausing before one of them. It opened; the man entered.

This store of little-needed engineering spares would be the ideal place to leave the Human. It was cold here, in this part of the ship where heating, other than the barest minimum necessary to keep everything from freezing solid, would be a waste of power. Between them, the cold and the deep wound would be enough to kill the Human relatively quickly.

He put Kirk down ungently in the corner furthest from the door, and quickly moved several boxes so that the corner would be hidden from anything but the closest inspection, guessing that any search of this area would be at best superficial. Then he left hastily.

Alone, Kirk tried to pull himself upright; the effort was too much for him, and he slumped to the ground, this time fully unconscious.

On the bridge, Spock's awareness of his bondmate abruptly ceased, leaving him slightly disorientated, knowing only that Kirk was still alive.

Selek and McCoy arrived together and Spock suppressed an unVulcan sigh of near despair at sight of them. No - at sight of Selek. McCoy, who knew the truth, could be confided in.

"What's happened?" McCoy asked, speaking just as the older Vulcan opened his mouth.

"Something has happened to Jim." In this moment of frightening anxiety, Spock forgot that his bondmate was always referred to as 'James' in front of other Vulcans - the Captain had not been a man to use affectionate diminutives.

"What?" Selek asked sharply.

Spock shook his head. "I am not entirely sure," he replied dully. "He has been injured - it felt like a knife-wound in the back - and lost consciousness almost immediately. I do not know where he is."

"Not another duel?" McCoy asked sharply.

"No. A surprise attack."

The door opened again and the Security Chief entered the bridge. He looked rather shaken, and it was obvious that he was unlikely ever to question - or doubt - Spock's orders again. However, Spock was still determined to have him transferred. He crossed to Spock.

"We found this snagged on a protr