The Fire and the Rose Page 4

  “That is true,” Spock said. From his earliest years as a science officer under Captain Pike’s command, he had taken part in landing parties that had encountered alien species previously unknown to the Federation. Serving aboard Captain Kirk’s Enterprise, that had continued to be the case, but in his additional position as the ship’s executive officer, Spock had also been required at times to act in a political capacity.

  “In addition to that,” Irizal noted with a smile, “you would seem to have the pedigree for this sort of work.” He clearly alluded to Sarek.

  “The fact that my father has served with distinction for many years as the Vulcan ambassador is insufficient justification upon which to forecast my own performance in a similar role,” Spock said. “Not only is there no genetic basis for the inheritance of diplomatic skills, but I have also learned very little from Sarek’s experience since he and I have spent scant time together in the past forty years, and even less time discussing such matters.”

  “Forgive me, Captain Spock,” the director said. “I see your point. I intended no offense.”

  “I have taken none,” Spock said. “If I were to accept an ambassadorial position, to which planet would I be assigned?”

  “Actually, in view of the breadth of your dealings with other cultures and how accustomed you are to frequent travel,” Irizal said, “I envision your role as an ambassador at large. Your missions would be predicated on where you’re most needed. President Ra-ghoratreii actually recommended you for the post, and after due consideration, I couldn’t agree more. Last week, I informed him that I would be making this offer to you.”

  “Interesting,” Spock said. The director and the president had considered their proposal well: the idea of conducting discussions with a multiplicity of societies appealed to Spock far more then the notion of being posted to one particular world.

  “ ‘Interesting,’ as in you’d like to take the position?” Irizal asked.

  “’Interesting,’ meaning that your offer has provoked my attention and aroused my curiosity,” Spock said.

  “Then you’ll consider it?” the director asked with obvious enthusiasm.

  “I will,” Spock said. He had never seriously considered pursuing such a career, but now that the opportunity had arisen, he would do himself a disservice if he did not grant it due deliberation.

  “Excellent,” Irizal said. “I’m sure you have questions, and I’d be happy to answer them, but I wonder if you’d like to see some of the missions on which the BIA would think about sending you, should you accept a position with us in the near term.”

  “That might prove illuminating,” Spock said.

  “Let me get the information,” Irizal said, pushing his chair back and rising. He retrieved each of the six slates from atop his desk and carried them back to the table, where he picked one out and handed it over to Spock. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Frunalians,” the director said.

  “I am aware of their existence,” Spock said, “but little else.”

  “I think you’ll find them an intriguing people,” Irizal said. “They have a science-oriented society, but also engage in institutionalized ritual, primarily with respect to a physical, mental, and emotional metamorphosis that every individual undergoes during their adult life. They call the process of transformation ‘the Shift.’”

  “Fascinating,” Spock said. He peered at the display of the slate he now held. On it, he saw a city essentially hewn from solid rock. In the amethyst sky above it hung a colorfully banded world, the great sphere encircled by a planetary ring system.

  “That’s Orelt,” the director said, jabbing a finger toward the slate. “The home of the Frunalians. It’s a moon in orbit of a gas giant.”

  “And what would be the purpose of sending an ambassador there?” Spock asked.

  “Our aims would be twofold,” Irizal said. “First, we want to continue fostering a positive and open relationship between the Frunalians and the Federation. Second, surveys of the innermost planet in their star system reveal a field of stable rubindium. We’d like to negotiate for the rights to mine it.” Discoveries of rubindium isotopes with a half-life greater than just a few milliseconds occurred infrequently, Spock knew. He asked several questions about the geologic find and then posed many more about the Frunalians themselves.

  After that, Director Irizal moved on to the details of the other missions for which he believed Spock particularly suited. They spoke for the rest of the afternoon, about the Scalosian resettlement and the Treaty of Sirius, about the Alonis and the Romulans and the Otevrel. They talked of medical and scientific aid, of mutual defense pacts, of entente and detente.

  Three hours later, Spock walked out of the headquarters of the Bureau of Interplanetary Affairs, no longer a Starfleet officer, but a Federation ambassador.

  Three

  2267

  The Enterprise trembled.

  Captain James T. Kirk sat in the command chair at the center of the bridge, concerned for the safety of his ship and crew. Nearly a week ago, as they’d surveyed unexplored space, long-range sensors had recorded an aberrant and inexplicable reading. The crew had investigated the source of the anomaly to discover a fluctuation in the very fabric of the space-time continuum, something for which neither Spock nor any of his science staff could provide even a theoretical basis. Occurring within a relatively small area—less than a cubic kilometer—the phenomenon had initially appeared to be localized, but then sensors had identified a second such instability, slightly larger than the first. Inspection of the second fluctuation had resulted in the detection of a third, fourth, and fifth—all larger than the first two—and those had led to still others.

  For days, the Enterprise crew had tracked the abnormalities across space, all the way to an uncharted planetary system filled with them. Spock had determined one of the inner worlds to be the central locus, and therefore the possible source, of the instabilities. Kirk had chosen to take the ship into the system, despite having to pass through areas of affected space, which acted upon the Enterprise like turbulence.

  “Completing preorbital approach,” said Lieutenant Hadley at the navigation console.

  “Entering standard orbit,” Lieutenant Sulu confirmed as he worked the helm station. Kirk peered at the main viewscreen at the front of the bridge and saw the copper-colored image of the world below. Blotches of white across the globe lent it a cold, unfriendly appearance. Sensors had revealed no indications of sentient life anywhere on the planet.

  Again the Enterprise shuddered.

  “Mister Scott,” Kirk said, glancing over to the engineering station on the raised, outer portion of the bridge. “Shield status.”

  Standing beside the console, Scotty leaned in over Lieutenant Leslie’s shoulder and studied the displays for a moment. “The shields themselves are holding, but for some reason it’s taking extra power to control them… to control all our systems.”

  “It is the effect of passing through the unstable regions of space,” Spock said from the sciences station. “They appear to be stationary, though, so once we have those about the planet mapped, we should be able to avoid them on subsequent orbits.”

  “Very good, Mister Spock,” Kirk acknowledged. The captain understood and embraced the crew’s mission to explore the unknown, but it made him anxious when the ship became so directly affected. Still, in addition to the scientific questions they raised, the fluctuating patches of space-time posed a potential threat to navigation in the region. The Enterprise hadn’t passed through any of them while traveling faster than light, but doing so could have had an impact on the warp drive. Rather than simply quarantining the area, Kirk had instead opted to seek out the cause of the unusual areas.

  “Captain,” Spock said, and Kirk turned in his chair to see the science officer stand from where he bent over his hooded sensor monitor. “I am reading microchanges in the flow of time.”

  “What?” Kirk said, standing from his chair and making h
is way over to Spock. “Explain.”

  “Sensors are detecting microscopic pockets of space where the rate at which time passes is either faster or slower than in neighboring space,” Spock said. “The alterations appear to be emanating outward from the planet in waves.”

  “Could these waves be dangerous to the ship?” Kirk asked. As though on cue, the Enterprise shook once more. Both Kirk and Spock reached out to the edge of the sciences station to steady themselves.

  “I do not believe so,” Spock said when the quaking ceased. “The pockets are too small, too widely spaced, and last too short a time for that to be the case.”

  Kirk looked over at the main viewer again, at the lifeless planet about which the ship orbited. “Can you determine precisely what is sending out these waves?” he asked.

  “Scans are so far inconclusive,” Spock said.

  “Can we send down a landing party to find out?” Kirk wanted to know.

  Spock’s brow creased as he appeared to consider the question. “I do not know,” he said. “While I do not believe the ship is in danger in orbit, it is unclear if a transporter beam could safely traverse the waves. Further analysis would be needed.”

  “Understood,” Kirk said, and then stepped down to the lower portion of the bridge. Reaching up to the arm of the command chair, he activated an intercom circuit. “Kirk to transporter room.”

  “Transporter room,” said Lieutenant Kyle, the words delivered with his English accent. “Go ahead, Captain.”

  “Mister Kyle,” Kirk said, “I am considering transporting a landing party down to the planet below, but we are reading pockets of temporal flux radiating from there. Details from Mister Spock. I want you to determine whether or not it would be safe to beam down.”

  “Aye, sir,” Kyle said.

  “Kirk out,” the captain said. He closed the channel, then sat back down in the command chair. He waited patiently as the crew continued studying the unusual readings on and around the planet.

  Periodically, the Enterprise quivered, the movements sometimes barely noticeable, other times quite the opposite. Kirk continued to receive reports on the condition of the ship’s systems. Should the crew be put at greater risk, he would not hesitate to break orbit and vacate the region.

  After a time, as Spock scanned for and located the instabilities about the planet and Hadley adjusted the Enterprise’s orbit accordingly, the ship trembled less often and with less force. As Kirk waited for his people to perform their duties, he felt like standing and moving about the bridge, but until the ship stopped shaking completely, he decided to remain seated. “Mister Brent,” he said, “status of life support.”

  “Nominal, Captain,” the lieutenant said from the environmental-control station to the left of the main viewscreen. “They’re still drawing more power than normal, but so far that’s not an issue.”

  At midwatch, Yeoman Takayama produced a data slate with a ship’s status report. Kirk reviewed and then signed it. The yeoman left the bridge to deliver the report to the records section, then returned a few moments later.

  The ship abruptly shuddered again, harder than it had for some time. Then it happened a second time, and then a third. Brent stood up and moved to a secondary station on the other side of the bridge, where he checked the readings there.

  “Ach, that bumped up the power draw,” Scotty grumbled. “We’re still in the green, but we won’t be if we start shaking again.”

  “Understood,” Kirk said, just as the ship rocked once more. “Stay on top of it, Mister Sulu.”

  “We’re holding orbit, sir,” Sulu replied. “The helm is sluggish.” Again the ship quaked, and then once more.

  “Control circuits threatening to overload, Captain,” Scotty said.

  “Understood, Engineer,” Kirk said. He pushed himself up out of the command chair and made his way back over to the sciences station. “Mister Spock,” he began, but stopped when another wave buffeted the ship. He nearly lost his footing, and Brent nearly did too as the lieutenant crossed in front of Kirk on the way back to the environmental-control station. As the captain reached Spock, he said, “We can’t avoid these areas of turbulence?”

  “I believe we’ll have them plotted in a few more orbits, Captain,” Spock said.

  Behind him, Kirk heard an electric sound and saw a flash of bright light. He turned quickly to see a shower of sparks erupting from the helm, Sulu flying from his seat. Kirk bounded back down to the lower section of the bridge, pressing the intercom button as he reached the command chair. “Sickbay, to bridge,” he ordered. He passed the helm, from which smoke drifted upward. On the deck, Yeoman Takayama cradled Sulu’s head in her lap. Unmoving and with his eyes closed, the lieutenant appeared to have lost consciousness.

  “Switching to manual,” Scotty said as he descended toward the helm. “Do we maintain this orbit?”

  “Spock?” Kirk said as he examined Sulu.

  “This is of great scientific importance, Captain,” Spock said. “We’re actually passing through ripples in time.”

  “Maintain orbit,” Kirk said, standing back up.

  “Aye, there,” Scotty said as he sat down at the helm console.

  At this point, Kirk realized, with the Enterprise clearly at some greater risk, he would have to contact Starfleet. He walked toward the communications station and saw Lieutenant Uhura standing just behind the command chair. “Open a channel to Starfleet Command,” he said.

  “Aye, sir,” Uhura said, moving back to her station. Kirk followed her there. As he did, he saw the black armband still wrapped around the left sleeve of Uhura’s uniform, which she’d requested permission to wear after learning of the death of her mother.

  “Precautionary measure, Lieutenant,” he said. “Broadcast to Starfleet Command my past week’s log entries, starting with the unusual readings we had on the instruments and how they led us here. Inform Starfleet Command that apparently something or someone down on this planet—” Behind him, he heard the turbolift doors open. He turned to see McCoy entering the bridge. “Bones,” Kirk said, pointing toward Sulu, and the doctor headed for the downed officer. Addressing Uhura again, he continued, “Can effect changes in time causing turbulent waves of space displacement.” As he spoke, he went back down to the center of the bridge, to where McCoy now examined Sulu.

  “Some heart flutter,” the doctor said as he adjusted a hypo. “I’d better risk a few drops of cordrazine.”

  “It’s tricky stuff,” Kirk noted. “Are you sure you want to risk—” But already McCoy had applied the hypo to the base of Sulu’s neck. The device hissed as it dispensed the powerful drug. Immediately, Sulu’s eyes flickered open. The lieutenant pushed himself up, a confused smile appearing on his face.

  “You were about to make a medical comment, Jim?” McCoy asked with dry sarcasm.

  “Who me, Doctor?” the captain said, even more dryly.

  At the helm, Scotty turned toward Kirk. “We’re guiding around most of the time ripples now, Captain,” he said.

  “Good,” Kirk said, and then he headed back toward the sciences station. They couldn’t remain in orbit if it meant control stations around the ship would begin overloading. “Mister Spock?” he said.

  “All plotted but one, Captain,” Spock said. “Coming up on it now… seems to be fairly heavy displacement.”

  Two seconds later, the Enterprise jolted badly. Kirk grabbed the bridge railing to keep from being thrown to the deck. Amid the vibrations of the ship, though, he suddenly heard an unexpected sound: the long whisper of a hypo. Kirk whirled toward the sound and saw McCoy doubled over the helm. Even as the doctor stood up and spun away, the hypo continued to hiss. Finally, as it stopped, McCoy collapsed to the deck, to where an injured Sulu had lain only moments ago. At once, Sulu, Takayama, Uhura, and Leslie hurried to the fallen doctor.

  “Bones!” Kirk called. He rushed across the bridge to his friend. “Get back to your positions,” he told the crew around McCoy. Already the doctor had man
aged to get to his knees, though he remained bent over, his hands at his midsection. As the crew returned to their stations, Kirk kneeled beside McCoy to examine him. Spock, he saw, had followed him over from the sciences station.

  “The hypo, Captain,” Spock said, plucking the device from the doctor’s hands.

  “It was set for cordrazine,” Kirk said.

  Spock pulled the drug reservoir from the end of the hypo. “Empty,” he said.

  “Communications,” Kirk said, “emergency medical team.”

  With no warning, McCoy bolted upright, his eyes wide, his face bathed in a sheen of perspiration, a wild yell issuing from his mouth. Kirk and Spock both stood back up at the doctor’s side. “Killers!” McCoy screamed. “Assassins!” Slowly, he began to rise to his feet, his hands clutched to his stomach as though still holding the hypo. “I won’t let you! I’ll kill you first! I won’t let you!”

  As McCoy stood completely up, Kirk reached for his arms, concerned that the doctor might match his actions to the violence of his cries. Spock took Kirk’s lead and reached for McCoy as well, but the doctor threw his arms into the air with surprising force, breaking the grips of his friends. He turned and dashed up the steps and toward the turbolift. The crew started after him, as did Kirk and Spock, but then at the turbolift doors, McCoy turned back in a threatening stance. Everybody stopped.

  “You won’t get me!” he yelled. “Murderers! Killers!” He dashed into the turbolift, the doors opening to reveal technician Wilson.

  “Grab him,” Kirk yelled as he and Spock raced after McCoy. But the doctor seized Wilson and hurled him from the lift, directly into Kirk and Spock. The doors closed, and by the time Kirk got there, the turbolift had already begun its descent from the bridge.

  Kirk turned and saw many of the crew still on their feet, still gazing, stunned, toward the lift. Uhura stood by the command chair, and Kirk gestured to her. “Security alert,” he said, and as the lieutenant moved back to her station to set the shipwide alert and inform security of the situation, the order seemed to rouse the rest of the crew from the shock of what they’d just witnessed. Scotty sat back down at the helm, while Leslie returned to the engineering panel.