VARIATIONS ON A THEME 7

by

Sheila Clark and Valerie Piacentini

"Madam, can you specify the nature of the problem." Spock leaned forward in the command chair, focusing his attention on the wavering image on the screen.

"Alas, Commodore, there is so much... Our equipment is wearing out... but our most urgent need is for a doctor. My husband's condition worsens by the hour, and..."

"Sorry, sir, I've lost it." Uhura's hands flew over her board. "Their transmitter seems to be giving out. I'm having to boost their signal to the limit to maintain even this much contact. Try it now, sir.

"Commodore?" The blurred image re-formed. "Thank the Gods! Can you help us?"

"My Chief Medical officer is standing by, and perhaps my Communications Officer can be of assistance?"

"We would be grateful."

"The Enterprise will reach your planet within the hour. I will beam down -- " Spock hesitated. Across the link he sensed his bondmate's amused reproof. He sighed resignedly. "My First Officer, Captain Kirk, will beam down - with your permission - to assess your situation and prepare a report. Any assistance we can render will be given."

"We will await your arrival, Commodore. Forgive me, I must go - my husband calls."

The signal faded again. Uhura turned from her board. "Contact lost, sir."

Spock rose. "Have Dr. McCoy meet us in the briefing room, Miss Uhura. Give him what information we have, then join us there. Mr. Sulu, you have the con. Captain Kirk, a word with you."

Kirk followed his bondmate into the turbolift, smiling slightly as he did so. Spock never seemed to lose that note of quiet satisfaction when addressing him as 'Captain Kirk'. He had long since forgotten his early jealousy of his counterpart; the title was Spock's gift to him, not an attempt to create a replacement for his long-dead friend.

He knew what he was to Spock; once, during one of their melds, Kirk had been shown a truth that had shaken him to the soul. If at a word Spock could restore his former Captain and lose his present companion, that word would not be spoken.

Gradually, he had become... not used to the thought, exactly, but accepting of it, a reaction made possible because for him his Vulcan bondmate was the single most important factor in his life; his loyalty to Spock far outweighed any commitment he felt to Starfleet or to Earth.

The lift slowed, stopped, and the doors slid open to admit two crewmembers. Assistant Engineer MacLeod murmured an absent-minded greeting, and immediately buried her nose in the sheaf of specifications she carried; Gary Mitchell nodded respectfully to Spock, grinned broadly at Kirk, and settled down to study his two seniors with all the tactful discretion of a child eyeing a jar of candy.

There was no malice in the scrutiny, only an intense curiosity. The formal announcement of the bonding between Kirk and Spock, occasioned by their joint promotion and subsequent dependency posting, had come as something of a surprise to the crew. They had all known that their shy, popular First Officer never became involved with any of the women on the ship who made their interest plain; when he had let it be known that he was bonded to a Vulcan they had all assumed that his wife was a member of Spock's family, an assumption apparently borne out by the closeness between the two men.

The declaration of the true state of affairs, made by Spock at his most impassive, had for the most part produced one of three reactions. The majority of the crew had been surprised, slightly curious, had wished them well but clearly considered their private lives not to be their business; the few same-sex couples on board had been openly envious of their legally recognised status - although there were no regulations against homosexual liaisons, and requests for dependency postings on those grounds were treated sympathetically, it was still not possible under Terran law for such couples to form a legal union; and a few - a very few - of the crew were openly disapproving.

Gary Mitchell - typically, Kirk thought wryly - fell into none of those categories. He had not dared to say anything to Spock, but had waited for a moment when he was alone with Kirk to offer joking but sincere congratulations - and had immediately passed on to outrageous speculations as to what form the ceremony had taken, and how they had spent what he referred to slyly as their honeymoon.

Despite his embarrassment, Kirk couldn't help being amused. Gary might have learned respect for his senior officers, but he certainly wasn't about to carry that respect to extremes. Teasing was as natural to him as breathing, the only difference now being that he had learned also when to stop. He was still curious and irreverent, but Kirk and Spock had won his loyalty, and he was as fervent in his support of the First Officer as he had once been in his domination of the shy, eager-to-please young cadet.

Kirk remembered one evening, not long after Spock's announcement, when, passing through the shuttle bay, he had overheard Mitchell in conversation with one of the new shuttle pilots, a man who openly and loudly condemned the relationship between the Captain and the First Officer.

"It's disgusting!" the man declared. "We ought to lodge a complaint with Starfleet."

"Come off it, Jennings," Mitchell grinned. "You've never complained about Hal and Tom, or those two girls in life science."

"But they're all Human," Jennings argued. "The Commodore's a Vulcan. How do we know Kirk's willing? You know what they say about Vulcans - he could be forcing the First, making him submit. A Human and an alien - it's not natural."

Kirk had shivered, remembering - as he rarely did now - a Vulcan who had raped his mind and body for his own pleasure, forcing him into a life of servitude that disgusted him. So vivid was the memory that Mitchell's laughter startled him.

"Not natural, huh? How do you know what's natural for Vulcans? And the Commodore's half Human, remember - his mother was from Earth. And you've only got to look at Captain Kirk to see that he's happy. Leave them alone, Jennings - it's no business of ours, anyway."

"But still, the Commodore and the Captain..." Jennings was unwilling to let the subject rest. "Why should Kirk get preferential treatment just because he sleeps with the Commodore?"

"What preferential treatment?" Mitchell's voice took on a note of real anger. "Kirk takes his share of risks - more than his share. Just ask Security, and see if they think Kirk abuses his position.

"Anyway, what do you want to do? Forbid married couples serving together? Captain April had his wife under his command, so I've heard, and Shevas of the Potemkin -- his wife is his Chief Medical Officer. Nobody accuses them of playing favourites - why assume Spock does? Kirk's the best First Officer in the Fleet; that was said of him even before he was bonded, and nothing's changed. He's damned good, and don't you forget it."

"Fancy him yourself, do you?" Jennings sneered. "Amazing the effect a pretty face can have. You should try your luck with him - or maybe you already have. You knew him at the Academy, didn't you?"

"God, you've got a filthy mind," Mitchell snorted. "Not everyone's as promiscuous as you are - Kirk certainly isn't. And if I did fancy him - which I don't - I have the sense to know that fooling around with a Vulcan's bondmate is the surest route to a broken neck. Speaking of which, that's what you'll get if Spock hears you talking like this - that is, if Kirk doesn't take you apart first. If you don't like the set-up, Jennings, transfer off, that's my advice. You won't find many on the Enterprise who'll agree with you - and even fewer who'll listen to that kind of talk about the Captain and First Officer."

Kirk had smiled a little, warmed by Mitchell's unexpectedly spirited defence. The man had not known he was there, and could have taken the easy way of agreeing with Jennings; instead he had gone out of his way to defend Kirk and Spock. His loyalty, once won, was real and dependable.

Now, remembering that defence, Kirk's smile was warm as he shook his head in mild reproof. Mitchell grinned broadly, ruefully acknowledging his curiosity and apologising for it.

The turbolift halted again, and Kirk and Spock emerged, heading for the briefing room. They were the first arrivals, and Spock allowed himself to relax slightly as the door closed behind them.

"Remain behind after the briefing, Jim," the Vulcan requested. "There may be extra safeguards we can employ."

"I'll wait," Kirk nodded, adding in an undertone as the door opened, "you don't think I want to say goodbye in the transporter room, do you?"

McCoy came in, closely followed by Uhura and Charlene Masters. The group took their places round the table, and Kirk slid into his accustomed place at Spock's side.

"What do we know about this planet?" was Spock's first question.

"Sensor readings are uncertain, Commodore," Kirk replied crisply. "I'm not sure whether the distorted readings are the result of a natural phenomenon, or if they have been deliberately caused - I'd suspect the former. There are energy readings, but very localised, as if there's only one centre of population on the planet. In my judgement, I'd say it's either a group of non-native life forms, perhaps a small colony, or the residue of an indigenous culture in a state of decline."

"Thank you, Captain. Dr. McCoy?"

"The distortion of the sensors hasn't helped me any," the doctor reported, "but my observations tend to confirm Captain Kirk's. The sentient life-form readings are concentrated into a very small area - a village, say - and I'm reasonably certain that they are humanoid in more than just appearance. Some of the readings are strange, but I've based my medikit on a humanoid strain until I can get more information on what I'm dealing with."

"Transporter coordinates tally, Captain," Charlene Masters contributed. "The energy and life form readings correspond to the source of the transmission from Platonius."

"Do you have any observations on the transmission, Miss Uhura?" Spock turned to the Communications officer.

"The distortion of the sensor scans does not seem to be affecting communications, sir. The interference there is certainly due to equipment failure. I foresee no difficulty in repairing the transmitter."

"I see. Miss Masters, will the distortion affect the use of the transporter?"

"No, sir. It's safe to beam down."

"Very well. Captain, you will beam down with Miss Uhura and Dr. McCoy. This is primarily a medical emergency at this stage, but while the Lieutenant is engaged in repairing their transmitter, you may be able to learn something of the planet's culture. Stay in regular contact with the Enterprise, and Miss Masters, maintain a fix on the landing party at all times."

"That could be a problem, sir. I think we'll need communicator confirmation for safe beam-up. However, I should be able to keep track of their location."

"Do the best you can."

Spock rose, bringing the briefing to an end. As the rest of the group filed out, Kirk came to perch on the edge of the table, eyeing his bondmate wryly.

"I'll take care," he promised, forestalling the Vulcan's warning.

Spock smiled briefly. "I wish I could believe that, Jim. I am concerned about this distortion. It may be natural - it may not." His hand lifted to the Human's temple. "Will you leave the bond-link open? I would feel easier, so."

"I never close it off," Kirk replied simply. " Spock - is everything all right? You look tired.

"It is nothing - do not be concerned. And before you ask, t'hy'1a, 1 have already consulted Dr. McCoy. I am merely a little 'run down' as he puts it. If it were anything more serious, do you think he would have left me in command?"

"I suppose not." Kirk grinned. "What you need is a good long leave. Perhaps after this mission we'll get one. It's strange to think that our children are nearly a year old, and we haven't seen them yet."

"Would you wish to return to Vulcan?" Spock asked idly.

"Well, I'd like to go home for a while, but you know, I'd really like to visit Earth again. It's been years since I've been there."

"We will talk of it later." Spock rose, extending his hand in the gesture of affection he often used with Kirk. "Come, Dr. McCoy and Miss Uhura will be waiting."

They walked together to the transporter room, and Spock watched as the three figures shimmered and were gone. He was becoming almost as accomplished a liar as Kirk, when it came to someone else's welfare, he thought guiltily. He had spoken to McCoy, but as a friend, not as a doctor, and he could not bring himself to tell Kirk the real reason. As time passed the half-formed bond ached more and more for completion - the Commander had warned him it would be so should he ever bond. Kirk had offered the full bond more than once, but Spock felt instinctively that it was not yet time to allow such a total commitment. For his own part he was ready - more than ready - but he still wondered if he had the right to permit himself such a final and absolute hold on Kirk. The bond-to-death was a great deal for the Human to give, when he had already had so much stolen from him.

McCoy's advice had been brief and sensible. "Let Jim decide." Kirk knew all that was involved, had considered all the implications. If he offered the full bond again it would be because he wanted it.

Spock had agreed. He would wait until Jim was ready. But, as he watched his bondmate beam down yet again into an unknown situation, he wished, illogical though he knew it to be, that they were fully linked.

"Isn't this beautiful, Doctor?" Uhura glanced round appreciatively as the landing party materialised at the given coordinates.

"Very much so," McCoy nodded in agreement. "There's an aura of tranquillity here - it certainly seems peaceful."

Kirk glanced sharply at his two companions, but made no comment: The cool marble hall in which they found themselves did indeed have a certain austere beauty, but to him it seemed cold, sterile. As for the tranquillity that had impressed McCoy, he could not sense it - instead, it seemed to him that there was tension in the atmosphere - no direct menace, but something that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Spock had told him that their repeated melds had sensitised the Human so that he was far more aware than was usual of nuances in the atmosphere, as though he picked up mental emanations from others without really being aware of it, but it was an awareness of feeling and emotion, not of thought - he knew instinctively if his companions were sad, happy, depressed or nervous, but not what had caused those feelings. This place produced in him a negative reaction; beautiful though it was, it was cold, with no sense of life or joy about it. Automatically he raised his shields in an instinctive gesture of defence.

"Welcome to Platonius, star-travellers. I am Alexander, here to serve you."

A young man, dressed in a tunic and sandals vaguely reminiscent of Earth's ancient Greece, appeared through the towering doors at the end of the room and came quickly towards them. Uhura's eyes widened, and Kirk had to suppress an understanding chuckle - Alexander was one of the most handsome humanoid males he had ever seen, and Uhura obviously agreed with the assessment.

"Thank you, Alexander. I am Captain James Kirk of the - "

Kirk's voice faded as Alexander reached them, and for a moment he could not continue. Everything about the man seemed normal, even his unusual good looks being a matter of degree, but to Kirk it was as though all his mental alarms began ringing at once. He met the wide blue eyes, and could not restrain a shudder - the clear depths of those eyes held an expression of shame and terror that was all too familiar to him, for he had seen it in the mirror many times during the years of his possession by the Captain.

" - U.S.S. Enterprise," he continued at last, after a pause that was in reality very short. "May I introduce my companions, Dr. Leonard McCoy and Lt. Uhura."

"You are all most welcome, but do not think me discourteous if I beg you to hurry. Parmen grows worse, and the Lady Philana bade me bring you to her at once."

"Doctor?" Kirk was willing to defer to McCoy in a medical emergency, and the pause gave him time to bring his sense of revulsion under control. He had no evidence that anything was wrong here, only his own impressions, and he did not want to worry Sock until he had some positive facts to offer.

Alexander led them along a wide corridor lined with towering statues of pure white marble, until they came to an ornate door that swung open as the party approached. Their guide ushered them in, and bowed.

"The physician is here, my lady."

"Thank the Gods! You must help my husband, I beg you. I think he is dying."

It was the woman they had seen on the viewscreen, but as she rose and came towards them they saw what the screen had hidden; beautiful, stately, with an innate look of command, she was almost eight feet tall, and built in graceful proportion to her height. Beside her, Kirk, McCoy, Uhura and Alexander had the appearance of being midgets.

For McCoy, this was a mere detail. "May I examine your husband, Ma'am?" he asked.

"Of course. Come with me." She led them through into another room, where a man lay tossing in delirium on a bed. "This is Parmen, my husband."

McCoy carefully drew back the bedcover, and his scanner whirred as he passed it over the huge frame. "How long has he been like this?"

"He has been ill for several days now, but the sickness grows worse. We can do nothing."

"But it's incredible." McCoy straightened with a look of disbelief on his face. "Your husband is gravely ill, but it all stems from a simple cut on his leg. A course of antibiotics would have cleared the infection in hours. Surely your doctors - "

"There are no doctors here," Philana answered. "There has been no illness on Platonius for centuries, and any minor injuries we heal ourselves. In Parmen's case, it seems that the fever destroyed his control, and so he grew worse. Can you save him, Doctor?"

"I should think so," McCoy grunted, opening his medikit. "His metabolism is similar enough to Human for this to work. Let's see, a larger dose, I think..."

As McCoy leaned over his patient the man surged frantically on the bed. A flailing arm caught the doctor, knocking him aside, and suddenly it seemed that every loose object in the room was hurtling through the air to smash against the walls - even a heavy stone bench lurched from its base to crash to the floor.

"He does not understand - he thinks you mean to harm him." Philana darted forward, to catch the tossing head in her hands. "It is I, my husband," she murmured. "There is nothing to fear - this man will help you. Let him approach."

Slowly the storm subsided and Philana nodded to McCoy. "He understands now - it is safe for you to approach him."

McCoy came forward warily, but there was no further violent demonstration. The hypo hissed against Parmen's shoulder, and the doctor sighed in relief.

"That should do it. Perhaps, Ma'am, we should leave him to rest. He will sleep now for several hours, but when he wakes you will find him greatly improved. Can you arrange for someone to sit with him?"

"That will not be necessary." Philana touched her forehead. "I am aware of my husband - I will know when he wakes. Come, let me welcome you properly to Platonius."

They followed their hostess back into the other room, where two men dressed in long robes were waiting for them. There was no sign of Alexander. Philana seated herself on a throne-like chair and waved a hand; at her gesture a tray of wine cups rose from a table and floated across to hover before each in turn.

Telekinetic powers, and possibly some form of telepathy, Kirk noted as he took one of the cups. I'd better watch my step until I find out just what their range is, and what their capabilities are.

He responded courteously to Philana's formal speech of welcome, then smiled at her. "Is there any other way in which we can help you?" he asked. "You mentioned a problem with your communications equipment - Lt. Uhura has a great deal of experience in these matters, and she will be only too pleased to do what she can. Then if you wish to let me inspect the rest of your equipment, I can prepare a report for our Chief Engineer as to what further work is required."

"We would be most grateful. Dionyd will conduct you round our settlement," Philana indicated the younger man, "and Eraclitus will show the Lieutenant our communications centre."

"Perhaps you would begin at once, Miss Uhura." As he spoke Kirk caught McCoy's eye and glanced quickly at the woman.

Taking the hint, McCoy set down his wine cup. "If you have no objection, Captain, I'll go with Uhura. Looks like you're going to be busy for a while, and I don't want to be too far from my patient."

"Let me know if you need any further assistance, Miss Uhura, and report to me when you have finished." Kirk watched as Eraclitus escorted his companions out, then turned to smile again at Philana. "I should report to the Commodore," he said evenly. "Will you excuse me?"

"Of course, Captain,"

Kirk pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Enterprise. Spock here."

"A preliminary report, Commodore. We have made contact, and have been received with great courtesy." As he spoke, Kirk opened the tight channel of the bond-link fully, making sure that the rest of his mind was fully shielded. No known telepathic race could monitor the bond-link, or even detect its use - he hoped that the Platonians could not, either, but it was a risk he had to take. *Spock?*

"That is well, Captain. How is the Doctor's patient?" *Jim, is something wrong?*

"McCoy has begun treatment, and expects a full recovery." *I'm not sure, Spock. I could be jumping at shadows, but I don't think so. Look, this is going to sound crazy, but is there any way you can shield the Enterprise from any telekinetic interference from the planet? And can you shield the crew from any telepathic influence?*

"I am pleased to hear it. What progress are you making with the technical assistance?" *I can alter the frequency of the hull shields, and take the ship out to maximum orbit. That will minimise any telekinetic effects. Countering telepathic influence directed against the crew will be more difficult, but I can shield them, for a time at least. Do you suspect treachery, Jim?*

"Lt. Uhura has begun work on the communications equipment, and I am about to begin compiling my report on what further assistance is needed." *I'm not ready to go that far - yet. But there's definitely something wrong here. I can feel it. Be careful, Spock - and don't let anyone else beam down.*

"When you have completed your report we will begin talks with the Platonians and institute normal first contact procedures. Please emphasise to them that our assistance now is unconditional, but they may wish to know more of the Federation before we leave." *Jim, you must also take care. Mr. Kyle reports that he cannot maintain a transporter fix on you, and although I can monitor your position through the bond, I cannot do it for Miss Uhura or for McCoy. Also, the concentration needed to shield the crew will weaken my control of the bond-link. I suggest that you close it down from your end, unless and until you need me; I will remain open to you so that no time is lost in establishing the link.*

"Very well, Commodore. Kirk out." *I'll be careful, t'hy'la.*

Kirk replaced his communicator and turned back to Philana. "Would it be convenient for me to begin at once?"

"Of course, Captain. Dionyd, see that our guest has whatever he requires. I will make arrangements for your accommodation, Captain Kirk - I hope you and your companions will be our guests."

"We'd be honoured, Ma'am." Kirk bowed slightly and followed Dionyd from the room, unslinging his tricorder as he went.

"I don't know where to start," the Platonian said as they headed down the corridor; as they walked he shortened his stride to accommodate the smaller Human. `Perhaps in our generating station?"

"That will do," Kirk agreed.

As they continued on their way, several Platonians, both male and female, greeted them. Kirk noted that all were as tall as those he had already met - by the standards of his society, Alexander was indeed a midget. Now he knew, too, one of the things that had bothered him when he had first beamed down - the proportions of the buildings, the doors and decorations, were all on a scale suitable to his hosts, which had made him realise that something was odd, although he had not realised that until now.

"Your people aren't natives of this planet, are you?" he asked casually as he scanned the machinery displayed to him, noting that although it was alien in construction he was familiar with its operation.

"No. Our people came originally from Sandara. When our sun went nova, it was necessary for us to find new homes. Earth was one of the planets we considered, but rejected to avoid a clash with its superstitious natives. During our survey Parmen, our leader, was impressed by the teachings of the philosopher Plato; he determined to found the perfect Platonic republic. We settled here almost a thousand years ago, and our society has remained secret and peaceful ever since. Unfortunately, we did not take into account that although we were perfect, our equipment was not; as you know, we now need assistance, since all our technical knowledge has been forgotten - we depend totally on the technology we brought with us, but have lost the ability to maintain that technology."

"Surely your ancestors made provision for eventual breakdown?" Kirk asked.

"Our ancestors? Captain, we are the original settlers. I was... let me see... 116 when I left Sandara, and that, as I said, was about a thousand years ago. We are a perfect society - we do not age, we do not stagnate. For millennia our race was bred for intelligence, for longevity; the mistake we made was to forget that our machines are not as advanced as we."

"And yet you required a doctor," Kirk said absently, concentrating on his tricorder as he spoke. "You have none of your own."

"They have not been needed. Our eugenics programme gave us perfect health, but with no illness we lost our resistance to infection. Parmen's injury was the result of a scratch sustained in a fall - a simple matter, but the infection was beyond our control. Now we realise that we have need of - " Dionyd broke off suddenly, glancing at Kirk, but seeing the Human apparently absorbed in the readings of his tricorder, he relaxed.

"All this is out of date, but repairable," Kirk said thoughtfully. "Of course, our engineers will need to manufacture some of the replacement parts. I'm sorry, Dionyd, you were saying?"

"Nothing of importance, Captain. Have you finished here?"

"Yes, I have all I need. It will take me a little time to study these results - is there somewhere I can work?"

"Allow me to show you to your quarters. Your companions will join you when they have finished."

The rooms to which Kirk was shown were large and ornate, decorated in the same semi-classical style as the rest of the buildings he had seen. To his relief the furnishings had been scaled down to suit Human dimensions. Kirk wondered who had thought of it - not Philana, he was sure.

There was no sign of McCoy or Uhura, so he settled down to prepare his report.

As he worked part of his mind was busy with the little he had learned. It could simply be that an enclosed society like the Platonians' was wary of strangers, even when they came to help, but that did not explain the look of terror in Alexander's eyes. Had McCoy seen it? he wondered. 0f course, the doctor had been busy with his patient.

Once he had worn that look of terror, and there had been no-one to help him; whatever the rights and wrongs of Platonian society, no man should be compelled to live with that fear, and Kirk's own experience made him determined to do whatever he could to help, to bring Alexander the comfort he had longed for, but had not received until Spock came to him. The first thing was to find Alexander, talk to him alone, persuade the man that he was to be trusted.

"Hi, Jim."

Kirk's thoughts were interrupted as McCoy and Uhura entered. He turned with a smile. "Hi, Bones. How did it go, Uhura?"

The woman shrugged. "I've patched up the equipment as best I can, and we can communicate clearly with the Enterprise now, but the whole console really needs to be stripped down and rebuilt. It'll take me a couple of days, but it really should be done if the transmitter is to work properly - I don't guarantee my repair for very long."

"I see. How about Parmen, Bones?"

"I looked in on him just before I came back here. He's resting well, and making a remarkable recovery. Jim, I learned something which could be interesting. I took readings from Parmen, and also from Eraclitus - well, I needed the readings from a healthy Platonian to know what the results should be. Both of them have a very high concentration of kironide in their bodies."

"Kironide! That could be what's affecting the sensor readings. I wonder..." He broke off as a quiet voice came from behind him.

"Excuse me, Captain Kirk. Is there anything you need? Are you comfortable here?"

"This is fine, Alexander." Kirk turned with a reassuring smile.

"I was to tell you that it will soon be time for the evening meal - you are to dine with the Lady Philana and the Platonians." His message delivered, Alexander lingered. "If there is anything you need, you have only to ask," he said with the air of someone searching for a reason to remain.

Acting on instinct, Kirk sat down on one of the benches and smiled again. "I expect you're curious about us," he said easily. "We don't mind answering questions, you know."

Alexander subjected Kirk to a long, searching scrutiny, then turned to study McCoy and Uhura. "You take it all so calmly," he said at last.

"Take what calmly?" Kirk was puzzled.

"That you are freaks - midgets - like me. And yet your master must trust you, to allow you to come here."

"Freaks? Master? I don't understand. Alexander, do you mean because we are smaller than the Platonians?"

"Of course. You must be deformed, like me - but you don't seem to mind."

"There are many races in the Federation," Kirk said. "Some are as tall as the Platonians, others are to us as we are to them. Size is no indication of intelligence - the wisest man I ever heard of is an Andorian who would scarcely reach my waist. By the standards of his own race, he is a midget - but he is the most revered of his people."

"But Parmen told me that because I did not grow ... because my mind cannot contain the gift of power, I am useless - a fool and a slave."

"They're lying," Kirk said flatly. "And I can prove it. Bones, scan Alexander."

McCoy moved forward, his tricorder whirring. "Actually, your intelligence level is a couple of points higher than Parmen's," he said, studying the screen. "He has certain brainwave patterns that you don't. What you said about power - do you have the telekinetic ability too?"

"No, I don't."

"Then that's it - the only difference."

"I am as intelligent as Parmen?" Alexander sounded disbelieving.

"Slightly more so - and a lot more intelligent than Eraclitus, I might add."

"But Parmen said... He lied?"

At McCoy's nod the alien drew a shuddering breath. "Yet I am a fool, for I believed him." His face hardened with resolution, and he turned to Kirk, grasping the Human's shoulders. "Captain, you must leave. Take your people and return to your ship at once."

"Are we in danger here?" Kirk asked.

"More than you know. Please, Captain, you must - " Alexander broke off abruptly, his body stiffening. Then, as though at some unspoken command, he turned and began to move jerkily towards the door.

"What...?" McCoy started forward, then he too suddenly stiffened and began to follow the alien; Uhura opened her mouth as though to speak, then she also, held in some unseen control, began to move with the others.

Kirk watched for a few seconds in bewilderment, then he gasped aloud as something touched his sensitive shields, a mental command to go with his companions. Outraged, he gathered his defences to resist, then instinct made him pause. His best defence would be in fact to pretend that he had no defence, to obey the commands. To someone trained by Spock the compulsion was easy to break, though to McCoy and Uhura it must be irresistible; he would learn just how strong the Platonians were before he allowed them to know that he could defy them.

The decision occupied only a split second. Without relaxing his shields he allowed the sense of the command to reach him, and obeyed it, walking out into the corridor as though he was as deeply enthralled as the others.

The compulsion led them into a large hall. The Platonians sat on benches around the walls as though preparing to watch an entertainment - and perhaps they were. Parmen, Philana by his side, sat enthroned on a dais at one end of the room; though a little pale he seemed to have recovered fully from the illness that had prostrated him only a few hours earlier.

As halted beside his companions, Parmen's attention was already fixed on the cowering Alexander.

"You talk too much, slave. Are you simply a thoughtless, chattering fool, or do you mean to betray those who gave you life? No matter; we will keep you out of the way while we speak with our... guests."

Parmen waved his hand negligently, and Alexander flew through the air, to hang as though pinned by unseen hands against the far wall. The spectacle seemed to amuse the Platonians, for Parmen had to call for silence and wait for the laughter to die down before he began to address the Enterprise officers.

"Dr. McCoy, we of Platonius owe you a debt of gratitude, not only for my life but for showing us that we are vulnerable. We must have a healer, and I have chosen you to remain with us."

McCoy frowned. "I am pleased to see you recovered, Parmen, but it is impossible for me to remain here."

About to echo McCoy's refusal, Kirk realised that he and Uhura were still being held by the compulsion that had brought them here. He could have broken it easily, but remained silent for the moment.

"You can't keep me here," McCoy said flatly. "Our ship will not leave without us."

"Ah, but it will; you see - " Parmen broke off as a muffled explosion echoed through the room. "A trifle early, but no matter. You are now dead, Doctor, you and your companions. We sacrificed an unused building in a good cause. Soon I will contact your ship on our restored transmitter and inform your commander - with every appearance of regret - of the unfortunate explosion in our engineering section that killed our most gallant saviours. There will be no bodies, of course. Have no fear - your stay will be comfortable and pleasant, and there will be much for you to do. Although we need little medical attention, a healer may perhaps solve the curse of sterility that plagues us.

"As for your companions..." Parmen gazed thoughtfully at Kirk and Uhura. "We had intended to keep only you, but when Commodore Spock so obligingly sent us a male and a female, how could we refuse such a generous gift? As a Science Officer, Captain Kirk will be of use to us, and from such a handsome couple we can breed a new race of servants - Alexander is a fool, and bores us all."

"You're crazy!" McCoy took a step forward, but came to an abrupt halt as Parmen held up his hand. "What makes you think I'll cooperate? Or that Jim and Uhura will?"

"They will cooperate because they must, in the same way that they were forced to come here now. You we cannot coerce, for your mind must be free to serve us, but they will be the hostages for your obedience. Dionyd, show our friend."

The Platonian rose to his feet and moved forward, facing Uhura. He raised his hand as though throwing something, and from thin air a knife flashed past her head to clatter against the wall behind her. Another followed, and another, faster than the eye could follow, a rain of lethal steel that missed Uhura by a hair's-breadth each time.

"Enough." Parmen raised his hand again and Dionyd returned to his place. "An effective demonstration, but perhaps a little... final, if concentration should waver. It is possible, however, to inflict the most severe punishment with no harm. Watch again."

He nodded towards Kirk, and instantly a sheet of fire rose up round the Human's feet, enfolding him in flames. McCoy could feel the heat from where he stood, and he watched in horror as the slender figure was alternately revealed and concealed by the hungry flames. It has to be an illusion, he told himself. Parmen would not destroy one of his valuable hostages merely as a demonstration.

And then Kirk screamed.

"Stop it! Stop it, damn you!" McCoy cursed the power that held him still as he fought to go to his friend. He could see Uhura's eyes wide with shock as she too stared in anguish at the tortured man.

"But of course." Parmen waved his hand, and instantly the fire died; Kirk sank to his knees, sobbing, hugging himself as though against some unendurable pain, but he was unmarked by the fire - not even his clothes were scorched.

"Go to him," Parmen said indulgently. "Satisfy yourself that he is unharmed - physically. The flames were an illusion, of course - the pain was not. Then think to yourself, Doctor, how often such torment can be repeated without any damage to the victim. This and more is what your friends will suffer if you refuse me. Kirk!"

At the command Kirk's head jerked up, and he watched Parmen blankly.

"You wish to serve me, do you not?" the Platonian asked smoothly.

Instantly the golden head was bowed. "I am your slave, my lord," he whispered. "Command me, and I will obey in all things."

McCoy's heart sank. For a moment he had dared to hope that Kirk had somehow managed to resist Parmen's control,- knowing the man as he did, he had been sure that Kirk's mind was his own - but knowing also what Kirk had suffered in the past, he was also certain that Kirk could never have submitted himself willingly to such a gesture of humiliation.

"Return to your quarters," Parmen said. "Talk with Alexander - he will be able to tell you more of what it means to defy me. I give you this night, while my friends and I celebrate my recovery, to consider what I have said to you. But before you go... " He gestured, and their communicators and phasers slipped from their belts to float through the air and land at Parmen's feet. "It would not do for you to attempt to contact your ship, would it? Go, and consider what I have said."

Parmen returned to his place, and as he did so the invisible supports holding Alexander were removed; the man crumpled heavily to the floor, but after a moment he rose to his feet and limped over.

"Let me help you," he whispered as McCoy lifted a trembling Kirk to his feet. "Come, let's get out of here." He put his arm round Uhura's shoulder and led her to the door, following McCoy and Kirk; he was leaning on her as much as leading her, for his leg clearly was hurting.

As the heavy door swung closed behind them, they could hear the light, mocking laughter of the Platonians, and Parmen's voice raised in a toast. "To our new slaves, my friends!"

On the Enterprise, Lt. Palmer turned from the Communications console. "A transmission from Platonius, sir. It's King Parmen."

"On audio, Lieutenant." Spock turned to face the screen. "I am pleased to see that you have recovered, sir," he said formally.

"I am indeed recovered, thanks to your doctor." Parmen's voice was grave. "However, I bring unhappy news, Commodore. Your officers are dead."

There was a sharp intake of breath from someone on the bridge, but Spock only bowed his head over his steepled fingers. "May I ask how, sir?" he said quietly.

"They were inspecting one of our generating stations. The equipment was more dangerous than we knew - we have lost all our understanding of such things. There was an explosion. We were unable to recover the bodies.

"Commodore, I am desolate. They came to aid us, and died in our service. They will long be remembered and honoured on Platonius. If there is anything I can do... "

"There is nothing. I ask you to excuse me, sir - I must inform the crew, and we must mourn our dead."

"Of course. I understand. When you are ready to talk again I will be here."

Palmer cut the screen as the transmission ended, and swung round in her chair to gaze at the Commodore; everyone on the bridge was looking in the same direction, but only Charlene Masters left her post to stand by the command chair.

"Commodore."

"Miss Masters, if you are about to express your sympathy or condolences, please do not." The quiet voice was very calm. "Captain Kirk is alive." The dark eyes lifted to her troubled face, then passed on to Palmer, to Chekov who had taken over Kirk's monitors, to Sulu at the helm and Mitchell at navigation - and surely there were tears on more than one face? He smiled slightly, and when he spoke his voice was filled with assurance.

"Every Vulcan knows beyond doubt the moment of his bondmate's death. Parmen says that he is dead - and Parmen lies. I wonder why?"

"Sir... " Charlene hesitated. "You can only be sure of Captain Kirk. What about Uhura and McCoy?"

"The Captain and I are not in direct contact at the moment, but the aura of the link is undisturbed. He could not hide his grief from me if they were dead. Miss Masters, you have the con. I will be in my quarters." He paused, then conceding that the circumstances allowed and required an explanation he would not normally have given, added shyly, "It is easiest for us to communicate in private. As soon as it is safe to do so, the Captain will contact me with an explanation - I wish to be ready to respond." He paused again, then continued, "I sensed your grief for the Captain, and for me. Thank you, my friends."

The turbolift door had closed behind the Vulcan before Gary Mitchell gave an appreciative chuckle. "Sounds like a handy thing, that bond-link." He winked outrageously at Lt. Palmer. "Better watch out, Caroline - you and Uhura could find yourselves out of a job if it catches on."

Deliberately, Kirk hung back a little, allowing McCoy and Uhura to move ahead - he sensed that Alexander would talk more freely in a direct exchange, rather than to an audience.

"Parmen said you'd explain what it means to defy him," he prompted.

Alexander halted, studied Kirk for a moment, then indicated a low door they were just passing. "Shall we go to my room, Captain? We can talk more freely there."

Kirk nodded. "Of course. And Alexander - my friends call me Jim." He turned to call to McCoy. "Bones, see if Uhura's all right - I'll be along soon."

McCoy nodded and continued along the corridor; Kirk watched him leave, then turned to follow Alexander through the doorway.

The room in which he found himself was of normal Human proportions - even the furniture had been scaled down. Kirk sighed with relief as he sank into chair. "That's better," he grinned. "I was beginning to feel overwhelmed."

Alexander nodded. "That's partly why I decided to live here," he confessed. "The others never come here - it's too cramped for them. I built all the furniture myself," he added proudly. "May I offer you some wine... Jim?"

"No wine, thanks, but perhaps some fruit juice, if you have it."

Alexander busied himself at a side table, and returned holding two cups. Handing one to Kirk, he sat down opposite him. "They drink a lot, and sometimes they force me to become drunk with them, so I never touch alcohol when I'm on my own."

Kirk nodded sympathetically. "It's an unpleasant feeling, isn't it? Alexander, we may not have much time, so I'll get right down to business. Parmen and the others - can they read minds?"

"No," Alexander replied positively. "They can control people like you and me, and they can move objects around pretty much at will, but they can't read our thoughts."

"That's a relief, at any rate." Kirk sipped his juice. "But Parmen knew you'd warned me."

"There are monitors all round the palace, relics of the old days. Only Parmen knows how to use them. That's how he's hung onto power for so long. He knows if any of the others try to plot against him. It's all right," he added, observing Kirk's sudden nervous glance at the walls. "There aren't any in here. After all, who'd plot with me?"

"So it's wiser to assume that anywhere else we could be overheard," Kirk said thoughtfully. "Hmm, that could complicate matters. Still, tell me what you can for now. Have they always had these powers, for instance?"

"Not originally, except in very rare cases, but when they began their programme of genetic engineering, that was one of the characteristics that was bred for, until by the time of the destruction of Sandara it was a universal talent. As you know, this group settled on Platonius. At first they amused themselves playing at setting up their so-called ideal state - Parmen had made a hobby of studying your planet's ancient Greece."

"Not very good at it, was he?" Kirk grinned.

Alexander stared as though Kirk had uttered rank heresy. "What do you mean, Jim? Parmen is an acknowledged expert - "

"No." Kirk shook his head firmly. "He's a dabbler, that's all. Take those statues out there - even a rank amateur knows that the Greeks painted their statues in vivid colours - it's only the passage of time that has left those surviving specimens as white. And no serious student would dream of setting up this perversion of Plato's republic."

"So he doesn't know everything." Alexander looked thoughtful, considering this new idea. "But to get back to the history of Platonius, after a while Parmen decided to increase the size of the colony, and they began a breeding programme. It was a disaster. Every child born was like me; weak, undersized, sickly, and with no trace of mental ability. Parmen declared that he would not permit such ugliness to exist in his perfect world, and so all the children were killed. I've often thought that they were the fortunate ones."

"It's Parmen and the others who are ugly," Kirk said with quiet anger. "Their bodies are perfect, but their minds and hearts are hideous. I once knew someone like that - he was beautiful to look at, but he had no heart. But - if the Platonians killed all the children, Alexander, how did you escape?"

"One among the first to be born was chosen to live - they wanted a sample to study. A specimen. I was the one chosen. Each time they thought they'd solved the problem they'd try again, and each time they failed. The faulty children were destroyed. At last they simply stopped trying. Parmen was going to get rid of me then, but Eraclitus persuaded him to keep me - for my 'entertainment value', he said. I became Court Jester, servant, the butt of their humour. I play their games, and I lose - oh yes, I lose." He looked at Kirk, misery in his eyes. "And now they'll do that to you, make you their slave. I'm sorry, Jim. If I'd warned you at once, you might have been able to escape, but I was too afraid. This is all I've known, all my life. There's no escape from Parmen - for any of us."

"What about your parents? Didn't they at least try to protect you?"

"Protect me?" Alexander laughed bitterly. "Jim, Parmen and Philana are my parents."

There was nothing Kirk could think of to say. He had known misery in his own life, but at least the Captain had come to him as a stranger. His shyly offered friendship had been used and betrayed, but there had been no blood-tie between them. His memories of his own parents, though few and distant, were filled with warmth and love. He tried to imagine how it must have been for Alexander to endure such torment at the hands of the very people who should have cared for him, and recoiled from the thought with revulsion. At last he realised that Alexander was still speaking.

"You must remember that I've never seen any other people. I thought Parmen was right, that everyone was like him and the others, beautiful, clever and cruel. I used to be grateful that they allowed me to live at all, monster that I was, and that I was permitted to serve them. It was only as I grew older, and turned to the old tapes for company, that I learned to understand what they were really like.

"Time passed, and over the centuries much knowledge was lost. Oh, it's there in the old records, if you know where to look for it, but I don't think any of them even remember that, now. The machinery decayed, broke down, and they began to speak of contacting other races to seek help, but they were afraid of what would happen to their private playground, and so they did nothing. Then Parmen became ill, and Philana called for help. Your ship answered. While they waited for you to reach Platonius, Dionyd suggested this plan to obtain the help they wanted and to avoid interference. When you appeared as well, and with a woman of your own race, Eraclitus saw the chance to breed slaves, more victims for their amusement. They can make you obey, as I do."

"They won't win, Alexander," Kirk said firmly. "We'll get out of here - and you'll come with us. That's a promise."

"That's what I'm trying to make you understand, Jim - there is no escape. Your ship is safe only because Parmen can't break through its shields, and he can't reach the minds of your crew - perhaps it's just too far away. But the minute your Commodore lowers the shields, Parmen will have the ship - he'll make it crash into the atmosphere, or take other people from her; he can do as he likes. Even if you could signal your comrades, they'd have to lower the shields to take you aboard, wouldn't they? Unless you want to see more of your friends in this position, you'd better hope that they leave quickly. After all, they think you're dead.

"And even if by some miracle you did escape, how can I go with you? You've seen only a small part of what Parmen has made me. There's no place for me in your world, Jim - nowhere to run to... "

Alexander's voice faded and he bowed his head, covering his face with shaking hands. Kirk hesitated, then moved to sit on the couch beside him, slipping his arm round the slumped shoulders.

"Alexander, listen to me." Kirk's voice was very quiet. "You think I'd despise you for what you did to stay alive? I've done worse - much worse."

"You?" Alexander looked up, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes, me. I was young, shy and very lonely. I was good at my job, but I was nervous with other people, had no friends. When friendship was offered to me I reached out for it, only to find that I'd been tricked. I spent years in the power of a sadist who used my mind and body for his pleasure, controlling me as Parmen controls you. Then Commodore Spock found me and freed me. He taught me, helped me, until I was fit to be his companion. I owe him my life and my sanity - and a debt I can never repay. You can be helped, as I was helped - and you will be."

Alexander smiled sadly. "I almost believe you, Jim. But you'll never get away from here, so - "

He broke off abruptly and sprang to his feet, his body rigid. "I am called," he said stiffly, forcing the words out as he began to move towards the door. "I have no choice - and neither will you."

Kirk sat for a moment as the door closed behind Alexander. He should get back to McCoy and. Uhura as quickly as possible, but first he would take advantage of the privacy here to contact Spock. He knew that sometimes his face revealed his emotions when they communicated through the bond, and while he could tolerate McCoy seeing him then, it was too personal a thing to reveal to someone even as discreet as Uhura. Leaning back in his seat he readied his mind, and then opened the channel of the bond-link.

As he made his way to his cabin, hurrying without seeming to hurry, Spock found himself reflecting on what he had said on the bridge. 'My friends' he had called them, and had felt no embarrassment at doing so. In the other universe only Kirk and McCoy had come close to being friends - the crew of the Enterprise had respected him, but there had been none of the very real affection and personal loyalty he sensed from this crew. Jim had given him that. In reaching out to the desperate young Human he had released a caring that had refused to be buried again; the crew had felt his concern for their welfare, and responded to it. He would never have the first Kirk's easy charm, but in his own quiet way he had won the same respect from his crew that his dead friend had done.

It had been surprisingly easy, too, to show an interest - no open displays of emotion or feeling, which would have been both painful and difficult with anyone but Jim, but a quiet word of appreciation, praise for a job well done, concerned advice when needed, had all won a response that made so much easier that task with which, in the other universe, he had never felt comfortable, the command of Kirk's ship. Here he had moved slowly at first, so as not to create too great a contrast between his methods and those of his sadistic counterpart, but he was confident now and sure that no-one remembered the cold, aloof man who had once held the command.

Jim had taught him so much, had given him so much... Spock frowned as he let himself into his cabin and activated the privacy lock. It seemed selfish to wish for more. The longing for a full bond was almost a physical ache now, a nagging hunger that usually was eased by his brother's physical presence. This parting, with its added burden of worry for Jim's safety, made it much more difficult to bear.

Slowly, Spock sank down to sit cross-legged before the flickering flame of the fire shrine. He opened his mind fully, ready for his bondmate's call, and quickly brought the need to reach out under strict control - Jim must not sense that hunger in him, for the bond - if and when it came - must come only from the Human's need, not his.

Then, suddenly, Kirk was there, a warm presence. He clung to his brother's mind in a quick, welcoming embrace.

*T'hy'la?* There was affectionate concern in Kirk's thought. *Is all well with you?*

*All is well - now,* Spock responded contentedly.

McCoy was alone when Kirk returned to the room they had been given. "Where's Uhura?" he asked anxiously, afraid that Parmen might have summoned her.

"Fixing some food - we found a kitchen through there." McCoy indicated one of the inner doors. "Somehow Parmen got sidetracked on the dinner invitation, remember. Still, it seems we're not supposed to starve. As prisons go, this one's pretty luxurious."

"It's still a prison," Kirk commented. "Hey, what are you doing?" he added as McCoy came forward with his scanner at the ready.

"Just making sure, after that little display of Parmen's," McCoy grunted. "Hmm, no physical damage. Those flames looked real enough to me. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, but would you mind taking another look at my ankle? It's a bit sore after that twist I gave it just before we beamed down." Kirk spoke casually, but he held his breath, praying that McCoy wouldn't ask him what he was talking about.

The doctor merely shot him a suspicious look, however, and knelt down to draw off his boot, carefully manipulating the ankle. "How's that?" he asked.

"Sore." Kirk allowed his hand to rest on McCoy's head, hoping as he did so that Spock was right and that his mind was now strong enough to reach out to another. He had told himself that he would never contact anyone but his bondmate, but given the existence of Parmen's monitors, this was the only way to communicate safely with McCoy. As soon as he gained entrance to his friend's mind he took control of the speech centre, then made his presence known.

*Bones?*

*Jim!* Without the power of speech McCoy's thought was the mental equivalent of a shout. *What's going on?*

*Sorry I couldn't ask permission - Parmen has monitors all over this place and I don't want him to know I can do this. I just wanted to warn you to be careful what you say, and to tell you not to give up hope - he doesn't control me. I can block his commands and suggestions, but it's safer if he doesn't realise that until I'm ready. Just try not to worry too much, huh? Sorry, I've got to get out now - I'm not really used to this.*

*Jim...* At the anxiety in McCoy's mind Kirk lingered reluctantly, reflecting as he did so how unlike a contact with Spock this was. It was a considerable effort to leave his bondmate's mind, but McCoy, good friend though he was, held none of the open welcome he was used to - though it might simply have been because contact on this level was extremely limited, being more silent conversation than the exchange of thought and feeling he shared with Spock.

Unaware of his friend's train of thought, McCoy asked hesitantly, *I suppose you couldn't contact Uhura like this? She's as scared as I am, though she'll not show it. If you could just reassure her...?*

*I'll try,* Kirk promised. *Just remember the monitors, Bones, and if you really need to 'talk' to me again like this, try to find some excuse for me to put my hands on your head. Now I really must go.*

Kirk allowed his hand to slip from McCoy's head. As he did so the doctor looked up and grinned. "No damage, just a nasty wrench. The manipulation should help, but let me know if it still troubles you." He rose, and stretched. "Wonder where Uhura's got to with that food?"

"Coming right up." As if on cue, Uhura entered with a laden tray. "It's a cold meal, but that's probably just as well - I don't guarantee my cooking."

"Looks great to me," McCoy said appreciatively as Uhura set the tray down on a table and joined the men. "How about you, Jim?"

"This is fine, Uhura. Thanks." Kirk smiled at her, noting with approval that despite the trace of fear in her eyes, her voice was calm, her hands steady.

McCoy and Uhura carried on an idle conversation as they ate. Kirk was grateful for that, since it gave him time to think how best to reach Uhura as McCoy had asked. He had considered telling both his companions about his recent contact with Spock, but decided against it - should Parmen become suspicious, and order them to tell him what they knew of any escape attempt, they would not be able to refuse. He was sorry about that, realising that for all McCoy knew they were isolated here - the doctor was not aware that the bond-link now functioned over ship-to-planet distance.

It was going to be difficult, he reflected. Without communicators, McCoy and Uhura could not be located by the transporter, and while Spock could trace him through the bond-link, it would be necessary for them all to be together if all three were to be rescued. A11 four, he corrected himself; he would not leave Platonius without Alexander.

Then there was the problem of the Enterprise. Parmen might not have abandoned his intention of stealing other subjects from the ship. While the transporter could normally operate through the shields, the distortion caused by the kironide made that a hazardous gamble; yet if the shields were lowered, their protection was lost.

Kirk sighed. It looked as though he'd have to play a waiting game, and try to pick his moment to move. Spock was fully alert and ready for his signal, but Kirk hoped he would not have to wait too long; he was already concerned about his bondmate's health, and this additional strain must be affecting him, even though he denied it.

Seeing that the others had finished eating, Kirk rose. "Looks like you've got landed with the washing up, Bones. Care for a walk, Uhura? We haven't seen the garden yet."

Uhura glanced up, surprised at Kirk's suggestion, but she quickly realised that he had his reasons. She took his hand as she rose. "That'll be nice, Jim. Eraclitus told me they're lit to be beautiful by night as well as by day."

Kirk took her arm as they walked out into the garden. "The generators are on their last legs," he remarked, nodding towards the ornamental lights. "It shouldn't take us long to overhaul them, though."

"You're resigned to staying here, Jim?"

"We'd better face it, Uhura, we may not have any choice. As far as the Enterprise is concerned, we're dead, and Spock is too practical to waste time looking for bodies that've been blown to pieces. It wouldn't be logical - now, would it?"

Uhura glanced at him uncertainly. Was that a hint? Spock had already shown himself to be anything but logical where his bondmate's welfare was concerned. "You think we should co-operate with Parmen?" she asked.

"It does seem the sensible thing to do. We know he can make us obey - what's the point in suffering for nothing? It's no use fighting when you know you can't win." He paused beside a recessed seat, and slipped an arm round her waist. "Let's sit down for a moment."

Uhura nodded to herself as she went with him. Jim was trying to tell her something. She'd known that a passive acceptance was not typical of the young First Officer she had learned to respect.

Alerted by that, she showed no surprise when he drew her close, and bent his head to kiss her. Her arms slid round his neck, holding him in a close embrace. If proof were needed, this was it - Jim rarely touched any of his companions; he never made advances to any member of the crew, and absolutely would not behave like this in such a hazardous situation - unless of course he was being controlled...

Even as the thought occurred to her, she felt the touch of Kirk's mind. *Uhura?*

*Jim? What...* Her lips trapped by his kiss, she could only formulate the thought.

*I ask forgiveness,* he said formally. *Under the circumstances it was impossible to ask consent. Now attend, for I have little time. Parmen does not control me. There's got to be a way out of this, and I'll find it somehow. Just be careful when you say - this whole place is bugged. If you need to 'talk' to me, get me alone and... and...*

*And kiss you?* Uhura chuckled. Kirk was already withdrawing his mind, but he caught her final thought. *That'll be no hardship.*

He drew back, Looking down into her face, feeling slightly dizzy at the realisation that he had enjoyed kissing Uhura. Unconsciously his arms tightened, pulling her soft warmth even closer, colouring as he felt the first flush of arousal. Random thoughts tumbled through his mind; with Tavara he had learned that he could function as a normal male; Uhura had more than once indicated discreetly that if he was interested, she was willing; despite the monitors they could have privacy - Alexander wouldn't mind them using his room; it would be pleasant to make love to Uhura, and she would seek no commitment from him; it would be fun to make love with a willing, responsive partner - and he would prove himself fully a man at last...

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt. No commitment? But he had already made one - his bonding vow to Spock. The Vulcan would never hold him to his vow of fidelity, but he had made it, meaning every word. With Tavara he had not known what he was doing; was his word worth so little that he would break a solemn vow at the first temptation? Spock might not demand fidelity of him, but he demanded it of himself. He was Spock's bondmate; they had never shared a physical relationship, and the Vulcan's impotence meant that they never would, but he would not dishonour his mate. It was all so simple that he almost chuckled - he didn't want to. He could have affairs if he wished, but to protect his privacy Spock would withdraw a little. It just wasn't worth it.

Kirk smiled faintly and stood, pulling Uhura to her feet. "Let's get back and see how Bones is getting on," he said cheerfully.

Uhura, sensing that her chance had come and gone, gave a faint sigh of acceptance. She had been aware of Kirk's arousal, and had wondered... Disappointed, but not really surprised, she grinned back at Kirk. "I don't know about you, but I could use some sleep," she said.

The following morning, none of the Platonians came near them - perhaps they were being given a chance to consider Parmen's warning. Kirk decided to use the time to learn as much as he could of the state of the Platonians' technology - the knowledge would prove useful whichever way things turned out. He departed after breakfast, taking Uhura with him; McCoy elected to remain behind to begin a preliminary study of the readings he had taken of Parmen, Philana and the others.

No-one hindered their work, although Kirk became aware that Dionyd began to shadow them at a discreet distance, intervening only to shepherd them carefully away from the communications centre. He made no attempt to interfere with their use of the tricorders, from which Kirk deduced that the Platonian was aware of their function.

They were so absorbed in their task that it was early afternoon before Kirk turned to Uhura with a grin of apology.

"Sorry - you must be ready for something to drink. Let's go back and have lunch with Bones - we can finish this later."

McCoy was pacing the room anxiously. He swung round as they came in. "Jim. Thank God. I didn't know where you'd gone, and none of these people would tell me."

"What's wrong, Bones?"

Too upset to consider the effect of his words, or to attempt to soften the blow, McCoy blurted out, "If you were hoping for any last-minute rescue from the Enterprise, forget it. She's gone."

"No! I don't believe it." Kirk sat down heavily on the couch, staring at the doctor.

"It's true. I saw Spock myself."

"You saw him? But - "

"About an hour after you left, Parmen called me. Spock was already on screen. He told Parmen the Enterprise had been urgently called away - some sort of emergency. Parmen asked if he'd be back, and Spock said no - they'd already transmitted full details of the Federation, and if the Platonians ever wanted to talk about joining, they could contact the Federation Council direct. An ambassador would be sent, but it would probably be some other ship. I tried as hard as I could to call out, to let Spock know I was there, but Parmen had me frozen. I'm sorry, Jim."

"There was nothing you could have done," Kirk said dully. He buried his face in his hands. "You're sure she's gone?"

"I watched her leave. The Platonians' sensors aren't all that powerful, but they were able to track her out of orbit."

"Anything else? How was Spock?"

McCoy considered lying, but knew Kirk would not believe him. "He looked like hell," he said frankly. "Even Parmen noticed it - he asked me why, later - couldn't understand why a commander should be so distressed by the deaths of three underlings. I'm afraid I told him that you were Spock's adopted brother."

"I understand." Kirk realised that by telling part of the truth, McCoy had managed to hide a more valuable secret, that of the bond-link.

"So what happens now?" McCoy asked.

"Now? Nothing." Kirk laughed bitterly. "Parmen's won. All we can do is make the best of it. Welcome to slavery, Bones."

McCoy shook his head doubtfully. This was not the Kirk he had come to know, but it was, he suddenly realised, the passive, obedient Kirk of a few years ago. Perhaps it was only the shock; maybe when he had absorbed the full implications of the departure of the Enterprise, his courage and obstinacy would return...

Remembering what Kirk had said the previous day, McCoy knelt down. "Let me have a look at that ankle again," he said gruffly. "It certainly won't help if you lame yourself."

Understanding what McCoy wanted, Kirk rested his hand on the doctor's head and opened his mind. Unused to mental contact, his friend was already in full flow.

*...can't give up yet - there must be something we can do! I know you were relying on the bond; if Spock had beamed down you might have been able to reach him. Put we've got to fend for ourselves now. He really does believe you dead. We'll make it, Jim - somehow. Just don't give up.*

Kirk fought down the longing to reassure his friend. McCoy had managed to avoid mention of the bond by mere chance - in response to a direct question he might betray it, and it was better to assume that Parmen would understand the meaning of such a link. Better for McCoy to suffer a few hours of uncertainty, rather than allow him to betray their one hope...

*I'll try, Bones,* he began, then suddenly exclaimed aloud, "Where's Uhura?"

"What?"` McCoy sprang to his feet. "Parmen must have called her while we were talking. Come on, Jim - we've got to find her!" He started across the room, only to stop short as though he had hit an invisible barrier.

"What's wrong'?" Kirk followed, and was careful to halt at the same distance.

"A barrier - looks like they don't want us to find her."

"There's no use fighting them - I told you." Kirk allowed his shoulders to slump. "Bones, I'm sure they won't harm her - she's too valuable to them."

"I hope you're right," McCoy grunted as he allowed Kirk to lead him back into the room. "I sure hope you're right."

For several hours the two men remained imprisoned in their quarters, each alone with his thoughts. McCoy, despite his encouragement of Kirk, was almost in despair. He had been relying so much on the bond-link between his friends, had been so certain that Spock would know that Kirk was still alive - but that hope was gone with the Enterprise - she would not return, had no reason to, and there would be no miraculous rescue this time. His heart ached for Kirk, rescued once from a life of degradation, and about to face once more the whims of a tyrant; it worried him that Kirk seemed so passive, as though already resigned to his fate, and he feared for his gentle friend's sanity.

Kirk was aware of McCoy's mood and longed to reassure him, but did not dare. Their one hope was his link with Spock - that, he must conceal from Parmen whatever the cost. He was certain, as he had said, that Uhura was safe - she was far too valuable to the Platonians for them to risk harming her - and this separation was probably only intended to play on their nerves, make them more vulnerable. For her sake, as well as McCoy's, he wished he could end this fiasco now, but he dared not act until Spock was ready.

At last the uneasy silence was broken as McCoy got slowly to his feet. "Jim..." he said unsteadily.

"A summons?"

"Yes."

"You'd better go - don't try and fight it."

With a despairing look at his friend, McCoy felt himself drawn from the room.

The summons faded as he entered a room surrounded on three sides by raised alcoves resembling boxes at a theatre. They were empty as he halted in the centre of the floor, but gradually filled up with laughing, chattering Platonians.

After what seemed an eternity, Parmen and Philana entered, to take their seats on a raised dais at one end of the room. Parmen bowed to him mockingly.

"Greetings, Healer. Soon the entertainment begins. Will you not welcome our leading man?"

All eyes were fixed on the doorway behind him. McCoy turned reluctantly, his eyes widening as Kirk came slowly into the room.

He was beautiful. No other word fitted. He might have been one of the classic statues brought to life as he walked across the floor, dressed in a short Grecian-style tunic, thonged sandals on his feet, vine-leaves in his hair. Slowly, his eyes lowered, he walked across to stand at McCoy's side.

The chattering Platonians fell silent, their eyes watching the two men with avid anticipation. Parmen leaned forward in his chair.

"My friends, tonight we celebrate the arrival of our new servants, a fresh source of entertainment after years of boredom. They are not yet resigned to serving, but they will be. Healer, come and sit here. Watch and learn." Parmen indicated a stool at his feet.

McCoy shook his head stubbornly, remaining beside Kirk. "We're not your slaves, Parmen. We never will be." But even as he spoke he felt the futility of his words.

"You think not?" Philana's voice was sweetly malicious. "You will learn, foolish one." She gestured, and an ornate long-bladed dagger flew through the air to land at McCoy's feet. "Pick up the knife."

Helplessly, McCoy obeyed, unable to resist even when Philana commanded him to turn and lift the knife to Kirk's face. His friend's hazel eyes looked back at him, wide with apprehension, but incredibly he was smiling.

"It's all right, Bones," he said softly. "I know she's making you do this."

"Will you be so forgiving if I command him to rip out your eyes?" Philana mocked. "Choose, McCoy. Serve us, or learn just how much suffering your friend can endure - at your hands. Choose!"

"Mistress, I beg you, do not do this!" Unseen until now, Alexander appeared from behind Parmen and threw himself at Philana's feet. "They came to help... they do not deserve such cruelty."

"Be silent, you misbegotten freak! To think that you were born of my flesh... Must I teach you again that I am not to be defied?" Philana's lip curled in disgust.

Alexander rose slowly to his feet. "I worshipped you," he said quietly. "You were beautiful, and wise, and powerful. I was not worthy to live among you. It was enough for me to be allowed to serve you. But now I see you for what you are, and I am ashamed that there is any part of you in me. How can you - "

Alexander's words died into a choking moan as his body convulsed, twisting in agony, writhing to the movement of Philana's hand. Kirk, sensing that his control had been relaxed for the moment, rushed forward to catch the swaying figure in his arms. As soon as he touched the Platonian he felt the waves of pain searing through his own flesh, and bit back a cry of agony.

"Hold on," he murmured, blocking as best he could for both of them. "Hold on, Alexander!"

"Enough!" Parmen, who had been watching with interest, took control again. "Philana, do not be too hasty. It is true they have much to learn, but first let us enjoy the entertainment. To your places, slaves!"

As he spoke, McCoy was drawn away to the stool Parmen had originally indicated, Alexander to an empty seat at the side of the room. A harp floated through the air into his hands, and he began to play it, a slow, haunting tune that reminded Kirk so vividly of Spock that his longing for his bondmate found expression in an urgent, irresistible mental cry that produced an instant response.

*I am here, t'hy'la.*

*Spock, I'm sorry.* Kirk's thought was tinged with guilt. *I didn't mean to do that. It's just... these people are vile!*

*Have you changed your mind, Jim? You have only to call me when you are all together, and I will beam you up.*

*No,* Kirk replied slowly. *We'll give them their chance - I don't think I could live with myself if we didn't.*

*I know.* The affection in Spock's mind shaded into determination. *I require a few more minutes, Jim, but I will be ready when you summon me. Leave the link open, and allow Parmen to direct your actions as much as you think safe. Through your mind I can judge the strength of his, and make the final adjustments.*

*I will,* Kirk promised. *Spock, are you sure you're all rights? You feel ... different.*

*I am merely a little tired,* Spock reassured his bondmate.

*Okay, I'll accept that for now, but when this is over you and I are going to have a talk,* Kirk told him. Then he added urgently, *Back off for now -something's about to happen.*

Parmen had risen to address the Platonians. "My friends, our company is not yet complete. Let us welcome the mother of our new race of servants." As he spoke he indicated the arched doorway, and the woman who had just crossed the threshold.

Uhura was wearing a long, flowing gown of richly-embroidered silk. Her hair was piled high on her head; gems flashed at her throat, on her hands, in her hair, and as she crossed the room she walked like a queen.

Kirk had been so used to looking on Uhura as a friend and colleague that he had almost forgotten what a beautiful woman she was. He gazed in frank admiration, and even the Platonians paid silent tribute to her loveliness and grace.

The respite lasted only a moment. A low couch slid across the floor, and in obedience to Parmen's will she sank down to recline against the soft cushions.

"Behold your bride, James Kirk," said Parmen mockingly. "A prize for any man to value. Will you not greet her fittingly?"

With an effort Kirk allowed his shields to fall just enough to experience the Platonian's command. He walked across to stand looking down into her eyes, then slowly bent his head to kiss her lips. Uhura's arms rose to encircle him, and at the touch of her mouth he knew that in another place, under different circumstances, he could indeed enjoy making love with this warm, lovely woman - but he knew also that he never would. Now fidelity to his bonding was no longer a physical necessity but a conscious, willing choice. He would remain faithful to Spock not because he must, but because he wished to do so; and triumph filled him as he raised his head to smile reassuringly into Uhura's anxious eyes.

"Very pretty," Parmen applauded. "But you must not keep the lady waiting, Captain. Show us how a Terran makes love."

The Platonians laughed expectantly, and Kirk waited until silence fell again before he took a step away from the couch and lifted his head to look Parmen in the eye.

"No," he said quietly.

Parmen's face darkened with anger and surprise. "Obey me!" he snarled, launching a mental command which Kirk parried easily.

"You do not command me, Parmen," Kirk said without' raising his voice, but allowing a note of mockery to enter his tone. "You think yourself all-powerful - try to bend me to your will."

He had barely finished speaking when Parmen launched his attack, a flurry of commands that rebounded easily from the Human's shield. Unable to believe that such resistance was possible, he switched his approach from the mental to the physical, using his telekinetic powers to hurl an ornate vase at this defiant upstart. For the first time Kirk retaliated, reaching out to jar Parmen's mental patterns so that his control was lost, and the vase fell to shatter harmlessly on the floor. A second nudge from Kirk sent the Platonian backwards so that he sat down clumsily in his chair.

*Spock, now!* Kirk raised his voice, speaking rapidly to keep Parmen's attention. "You think yourselves so powerful," he said with contempt. "There are races in the galaxy whose powers make you seem like ineffectual children. Like all children, you must be taught. The lesson begins now."

The low hum of the transporter filled the room, and Parmen leaned forward in his chair as Spock materialised beside Kirk. "Commodore Spock! But your ship left..."

An eyebrow arched sardonically. "You should not believe all that you are told, Parmen." Spock moved closer to Kirk, his hand outstretched in the ritual greeting. "I have missed you, t'hy'la," he added softly for his bondmate's ears alone.

Kirk smiled as the touch of their hands opened the link fully, but there was no time for any further greeting. "Bones, Uhura, come here, and stay close!" he snapped, taking advantage of the fact that Parmen's bewilderment had lost him control of the Humans.

Responding to the tone of command McCoy and Uhura obeyed; as they drew closer the combined shield of the two bondmates expanded to cover their minds also, protecting them from any outside influence.

"Well, Platonians?" Kirk said challengingly. "Surely such powerful beings can overcome a mere two opponents? Or will you admit that you are but children, helpless in the presence of adults?"

Angered by his patronising tone, the Platonians responded to the challenge, directing the full force of their minds against the two who defied them.

Kirk smiled as he and Spock parried the attack; the one thing he had been afraid of was that the Platonians would unite to overcome them, but as he had suspected, they were too individual, too jealous of each other, to co-operate even when it would best serve their ends. Had he been alone, sheer weight of numbers would eventually have defeated him, but with Spock at his side it was necessary only to block and deflect the direct attacks, to jam the brainwave patterns that controlled their kinetic ability.

Parmen, watching the struggle, frowned worriedly. Incredible as it seemed, his people were losing. The two aliens seemed able to sense each attack on them and counter it before it was launched. Each attack? Yes - each direct attack... As he gazed frantically around, Parmen's eyes fell on his last weapon...

Alexander, crouched beside the wall, sobbed aloud as he felt the familiar tug of his master's mind. He began to move forward slowly, cautiously, picking up a long jagged shard of the shattered vase as he passed. Parmen's orders were hideously clear in his mind. Intent on their struggle, the aliens had forgotten him. Kill one of them, break their concentration; allow Parmen one last chance at the other. Kill one? Jim was nearest - Jim, who had been his friend, who had been kind... But the habit of a lifetime was hard to break...

From somewhere, Alexander found the strength to do what he must. Trembling with the effort of holding back, he somehow choked out the one word, "Jim!"

It was enough. Kirk glanced at him, saw the agonised face, the improvised dagger clutched in one shaking hand - and smiled.

"Bones," he said softly, and before anyone could realise what was happening, before Parmen could think to prevent it, McCoy had darted forward and pulled the helpless Alexander into the shelter of the mind shield.

Kirk and Spock exchanged a thought, and reached their decision. It was time. Their linked minds struck out, impacting on the undefended minds of the Platonians with stunning force. Alive, but helpless, they all dropped where they stood, unable to move a muscle as they waited for the death they were sure would follow.

Spock lifted his communicator. "Energise, Mr. Kyle," he said calmly.

McCoy and Uhura watched as a security team, led by Chekov, materialised in the room. Without waiting for orders the guards began to move among the Platonians, fastening a metal band to the wrist of each.

Spock took a tricorder from Chekov and studied the readings. As the guards finished their task and stepped back, the Vulcan nodded in satisfaction.

"That has drawn their fangs for the moment," he observed with a vindictiveness the doctor had never heard before in the quiet voice. With eyes only for his bondmate, the Vulcan continued, "I trust you are unharmed, Miss Uhura? And you, Doctor?"

"No harm done, except to my pride," McCoy said ruefully. "I don't like being a puppet. Spock, what did you do to them?" He indicated the semiconscious Platonians.

"The mental equivalent of a phaser stun - they will recover shortly. The bands contain a transmitter to jam their brainwaves. There will be no interference with their normal thought processes, but they will be unable to affect any of our people. We have yet to decide what to do about Parmen and his friends, and I do not intend to expose my crew to any further risk. The bands can only be released by me, and I do not believe the Platonians have the technology to remove them."

Spock's voice was as quiet and even as usual, but Kirk looked at him sharply. "Spock, we're going back to the Enterprise. No more nonsense about just being tired -- you're on the verge of collapse."

Spock made no attempt to argue. In a tone so low that only Kirk and McCoy heard, he replied teasingly, "Yes, Captain."

Kirk turned to the landing party. "Mr. Chekov, you're in charge down here. Uhura, would you show Chekov around? I'm sorry - I know you must be tired, but I want this area secured before the Platonians have a chance to start planning anything."

"I'll be all right," Uhura assured him.

"Then, when you do beam up, bring Alexander with you - he'll be leaving with us. Ask Sulu to find him quarters, show him around - you know the thing."

"I'll be glad to," Uhura smiled.

"Alexander." Kirk smiled reassuringly. "You heard what I told Uhura. I'm sorry I can't take you aboard myself, but I have things to do. You'll like Sulu, though, and I'll see you later."

"I understand, Jim." For the first time there was hope in the sad eyes. "Thank you for remembering your promise."

Kirk smiled again, then turned to McCoy. "Come on, Bones. Let's get back before this Vulcan passes out on me."

They made it - just. As the three men materialised on the transporter platform Spock swayed, and would have fallen but for Kirk's arm round his waist. Without pausing to argue, the Human lifted his friend into his arms, and with a wry smile of acknowledgement for Kyle's bemused stare, led the way out of the transporter room to sickbay.

The Vulcan was fully conscious, however, when Kirk placed him gently on the diagnostic bed, and a lifted hand halted McCoy's advance.

"A moment, Bones," he requested, eyeing the scanner resignedly. "Jim, since our friend will keep me fully occupied here for some time, do you feel well enough to take over?"

"I'm fine," Kirk assured him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Contact Starfleet Command, and advise them of the latest developments on Platonius. If they agree with my recommendations, implement the instructions you will find on the tape in my desk viewer. Would you also schedule a debriefing session for the landing party in three hours time."

Kirk eyed him warily. "You're not fit - " he began.

"I will make you a promise, Jim, to ease your mind. I am confident that McCoy will agree that I am fully capable of completing our task here. If he does, you will cease to worry about me, and we will postpone discussion of our... personal concerns until the matter of Platonius has been settled."

"And if Bones doesn't agree with you?" Kirk asked suspiciously.

"Then I will submit myself to his ministrations, and leave the matter to my First Officer."

"That's a fair offer, Jim," McCoy grinned. "And I'll promise you that he won't fool me - if he walks out of here, it'll be because he's fit enough to do so."

"That's good enough for me." Kirk turned for the door. "I'll be on the bridge if you want me."

"Jim..."

At the teasing note in the Vulcan's voice Kirk swung back, his eyes wary. "Yes?"

"Might I suggest a detour via your cabin? Your present attire, although interesting, is scarcely acceptable Starfleet uniform."

Kirk glanced down at his bare legs. "I'd forgotten about that. I've got a reputation for eccentricity at Starfleet Command as it is - no point in giving them anything more to talk about. Thanks for reminding me, Spock. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He turned for the door again, missing the quickly-masked flash of pain in the dark eyes. A slight tremor in the link almost made him hesitate, but he carried on. He knew the cause and everything would be settled as soon as they had the time and the privacy to talk.

Carrying a fresh uniform for Spock, Kirk emerged from the Vulcan's cabin, mentally ticklng off the list of instructions Spock had given him. The contact with Starfleet Command had been satisfactory; Admiral Broome had had time to consider Spock's assessment, and on hearing Kirk's final report had declared himself satisfied to leave the solution of the Platonians in the Vulcan's hands.

From the bridge Kirk had gone to the Commodore's quarters to view the log tape; with a chuckle of approval for the elegantly simple solution his bondmate had found, he had used the intercom to issue the necessary orders to the medical, engineering, communications, science and security sections - the arrangements were complicated, but well within the capability of the Enterprise crew.

His orders given and the debriefing called, he had risen intending to return to sickbay; taking along a clean uniform had been a last-minute inspiration, prompted by the untroubled vibration of the link, indicating that Spock had not found it necessary to argue with the determined doctor.

In the corridor Kirk paused, glancing undecidedly at a door halfway along. As he waited, trying to decide, it opened and Uhura, back in uniform, emerged.

"Hi, Jim. Everything all right:"

"Fine, Uhura." Making up his mind, he added quickly, "May I speak to you for a few moments - privately?"

"Sure - come on in." She turned back, the door opening at her approach.

Once inside, a trace of his old diffidence returned. "If you're busy, I could come back later," he offered.

"No, it's okay." Uhura indicated the tape she was carrying. "I'd just just finished my report, and was on my way to have a cup of coffee before the debriefing. What can I do for you, Jim?"

"It's about what happened on Platonius." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then continued, "When we were together down there, our minds touched. You must have seen that I was... attracted to you. Uhura, you are very beautiful - more than that, you are warm, generous, and loving. To share with you would be a marvellous experience for any man. It's... please forgive me if I'm presuming, I don't know how you feel about it. I don't want you to think that what I... felt might lead to something more. It won't - because I won't let it."

"Because of Spock?" Uhura asked quietly; he could not judge her reaction.

"Yes, because of Spock. Although there's no divorce on Vulcan as Terrans understand it, he'd give me my freedom if I asked him. But I won't ask; I don't want to ask. I made promises to him on Vulcan - and more than anything in life I want to keep those promises, no matter how great the temptation to break them. And you are a great temptation, Uhura."

"Jim, Jim." Uhura shook her head, half smiling. "I never met a man as painfully honest as you. I wonder if I can be as honest in return. Look, I'll admit that I find you attractive, that it'd be the easiest thing in the world to want an affair with you. In fact, I do want one. But it'd cost us both too much. What you and Spock have is... It's something I don't completely understand, but it's too beautiful to be spoiled. I know where your heart really lies. You'd be a marvellous lover - but I'd risk losing your friendship and trust. That's too important to me."

"You have Spock's trust too, did you know that?" Kirk asked softly. "Spock closed down the bonding link while we were together - he didn't want to risk your privacy. Usually a Vulcan will monitor any mental contact his bondmate has - he was there when I linked with Bones, for instance.

"The other thing I wanted to say is that I'll be telling Spock what I felt. I don't have any secrets from him - but neither of us will know what you felt. I promise you, when I was in your mind I didn't allow myself to look. It was a... a communications link only."

"Just as well," Uhura commented lightly. "I doubt either of you would appreciate my emotions intruding." More seriously, she added, "Jim, I'm very fond of you, and I think of you as a good friend. I'm not going to promise that I won't speculate about you as a lover, but I'm certainly not eating my heart out with unrequited love. That good enough?"

"More than I deserve, I think. Thank you, Uhura." Kirk smiled and indicated the bundle of clothing he was carrying. "Well, I'd better be on my way - if I know anything, there's an impatient Commodore fretting to get out of sickbay."

"I'll walk part of the way with you," said Uhura as they left the cabin together. "I'm still dying for that cup of coffee - have I got time before the debriefing?"

"Plenty," Kirk assured her. "I'm still not completely certain that Bones will let him out, you know."

"Yeah, take him away and stop cluttering up my sickbay." McCoy growled as Kirk poked an enquiring head around his office door. "Give that uniform to one of the nurses, and come in for a minute - let the man get dressed in decent privacy."

"You're sure he's all right to be out?" Kirk asked as he obeyed the instructions and perched on the edge of McCoy's desk.

"Honestly, he's fine. For the moment. Just having you back on board will help. Oh, I've prescribed a stimulant, and as soon as this is over I'm taking you both off duty for a few days, but he can see this Platonius affair through quite safely. Go on - pick up your Vulcan and get on with it - the sooner we're away from here, the better I'll like it."

ALEXANDER'S DIARY

Sulu has told me about this custom of keeping a record of day-to-day events. I have decided to adopt it; so much has happened to me that I am afraid that otherwise I shall forget - and I have so much now that I wish to remember.

From being an outcast and a freak, I find myself treated as normal, fully accepted by these friendly people. They do not know my full story - Jim has said that I must decide how much I reveal, and to whom; they do know that I was rejected by my own kindred, and quietly, unobtrusively, but sincerely, they have begun to teach me the joy of living.

I have talked with the Vulcan Commodore, Spock. He is a wise, compassionate man, and he has spoken with me at length, telling me much of this new life I have entered, and the opportunities that will be open to me. So many worlds, so much that I can do, I who was once spurned as useless! He has promised to help me decide my future, and I know that I can trust him. It was strange for me to learn that he and Jim are life-mates - such a joining is unknown on Platonius, but then we were a small community - but as I watched them together it puzzled me no longer, for they are perfectly attuned. It is clear that he adores Jim - (is that the right word, I wonder? I must ask ) - and Jim smiles most often when the Vulcan is near.

I have spent considerable time with Dr. McCoy, answering questions, co-operating in tests, but most often simply talking. I was greatly surprised when I learned that they still wish to aid the Platonians, but McCoy has made me understand that they must have their chance, one last chance to learn, as I am learning, to enter this new and wonderful galaxy.

More and more I find myself drawn to the craft of healing. I nerved myself to ask McCoy if I could learn this art. He seems to think it possible, for while it is true that I am much older than is usual for a medical student, my life-span is such that although I do not have Platonian longevity my life expectation is much greater than a Human's, and I could still undertake the courses of study. I will read the books he has lent me, talk further with him, with Spock, and with Jim.

Spock has just told me that his preparations are complete, and we are about to leave Platonius. There is to be one last communication with Parmen, and he has asked if I wish to be present. I have refused. My new friends have taught me not to hate, but I cannot yet forgive. I take nothing from Platonius but many years of bitter memories; it is too soon to forget the past. The future beckons me, and for now it is all that I can see.

On Platonius Parmen fretted impotently as he paced the marble halls of his palace. How much longer did these Starfleet vermin intend to remain? And what were they doing, anyway? All that cargo that had appeared, boxes and crates and cylinders; all the technicians, all the crewmen - above all the red-shirted security guards he was coming to loathe to the point of madness. Large areas of his domain were now out of bounds; the power plants, the communications centre, the long-disused medical wing crawled with the intruders - even unused rooms had been taken over. No-one would answer his questions. The scientists and technicians were seen only at a distance, hurrying about their duties, while the security guards politely but firmly refused to discuss what was going on.

If only he had the use of his mental powers - then he'd make them regret this humiliation; but the insufferably polite Chekov had deigned to explain that the mysterious bands each of his people now wore rendered that impossible, and even the simplest use of power was unsuccessful.

It was all Kirk's fault! Somehow the Human had been able to withstand the mental domination. Now how was that possible? His companions had been vulnerable.

"Parmen, if you will join the others in the assembly room, Commodore Spock is ready to speak to you."

"And if I do not choose to go?" Parmen eyed Chekov insolently. "I am no slave, to run at his bidding."

Chekov shrugged. "Suit yourself. Your people have already gathered; if you do not wish to hear what the Commodore has to say... "

With a muffled curse Parmen swung on his heel and stormed into the room from which the Platonians had been barred a few hours previously. All was as it had been, save that a large viewing screen now dominated one wall. His people were all in their accustomed places; as he took his seat beside Philana he noted that Eraclitus was looking a little ruffled - the fool had attempted to attack one of the red-skirted guards, and had been quickly and efficiently rendered helpless. No-one else had made the same mistake.

As soon as Parmen was seated, as though at a signal the screen sprang into life. Commodore Spock appeared, sitting at a table, Kirk to his right, the healer on his left.

"Platonians, the Enterprise will soon leave your planet, and we will not return. This is my parting message to you.

"We came in good faith, in answer to a plea for help; your response was to abduct and abuse three of my officers. However, the need for our help still remains, and we have given it, though it is for you to decide what use you will make of it. Captain Kirk?"

The young Human leaned forward. "We have inspected and repaired all your generators and power plants," he said. "A sub-space radio has been installed, and you will now be able to contact our nearest Starbase. In the east wing we have installed a tape library which will teach you how best to use all that we have given you. Now Dr. McCoy has some vital information for you."

"You wished me to investigate and rectify the abnormal births among your people since you came to Platonius. I have done so." There was an intense sadness in the blue eyes. "Those children were not freaks, not mutants. The kironide on this planet over-rode the genetic engineering you relied on for centuries - those unfortunate children whom you wantonly destroyed were the original form of your race. The choice rests with you; either remain as you are, a small, sterile group, or raise children who will all revert to the form of your ancestors. I can help you no further; there is no cure, for there is nothing to cure. However, we have provided you with medical equipment and drugs to treat any future injuries."

"We do not interfere with other cultures." The Vulcan now leaned forward. "We have given you the means to survive by repairing all your equipment, but the future of your people is in your own hands. The tapes we left will tell you of the civilisations that lie beyond Platonius; one day, if it is your wish, you may join us. It will be a completely free choice. Before we leave, I will remove the transmitters which are inhibiting your mental powers - they are only there for the protection of my people. When we have gone you will be free to study and discuss what we have told you, and decide what you wish to do with your future.

"However... " The deep voice took on a note of warning. "Do not think that you will trap others as you did us. This world has been quarantined, and a warning beacon placed in orbit so that no ships will come here innocently as we did. Should you wish contact with the Federation, you need only use the subspace radio, and an ambassador will be sent - but he will be a Vulcan, one of my people, and so invulnerable to your control.

"I have no more to say to you. You will not be contacted again unless and until you yourselves express a wish to talk. It is now for you to decide. Enterprise out."

The screen darkened, and with an audible click the bands fell from their wrists. Parmen looked around blankly, noting for the first time that the red-shirts had vanished. The Enterprise had truly gone; they were alone.

"Think they'll make a go of it, Jim?" McCoy asked as they rose from the table.

Kirk shrugged. "Who knows? I hope so, because I hate waste, but as far as Parmen is concerned... Well, let's say I don't care too much."

"Can't say I blame you. And where do you think you're going?" he demanded, catching Spock's elbow as the Vulcan rose.

"To the bridge, of course. I must - "

" - go to your quarters and get some rest - you and Jim are off duty for the next three days, remember? Off you go, both of you - or do you want me to come and put you to bed?"

"We're going, we're going," Kirk said hastily. "Might as well give in, Spock - he means it."

"I am aware of that." The Vulcan nodded, accepting defeat.

They walked along in silence, parting at their respective doors. Kirk looked up at his bondmate. "Go and get ready for bed. I'll get us some wine, and we'll have a few quiet moments together before you get some sleep," he said with a smile.