The BLTS Archive - The Trust of a Bonding II
by kvw (riordan10@yahoo.ca)

---

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns  everything except V'Rhsal (he's all
mine).

---

The musician-adept lay on her right side, her fingers wrapped around
the metal crossbars of the bedrails. At McCoy's entrance into the
room, she opened her eyes.

"Leonard, sit by me."

McCoy pulled up a chair in the dim, hot room and laid his hand close
to but not touching hers.

"What happened, nâdjânj?" he asked softly, shocked.

"It is nothing, Leonard. I grow weary."

McCoy sat with her, in silence. She closed her eyes as her hands
trembled but her voice was as strong as ever.

"You are the only human I have ever met. Are they all like you?"

"I...don't know."

She nodded. "So open, so deceptive."

McCoy frowned, unsure of her meaning. "Mah'Lee, rest. I'll be back
later." He went to rise but she called him back down.

"All these months, Leonard, I did not know why you were here."

"I told you, nâdjânj, research."

"Research into that which I have."

"Yes," he admitted, "but how do you know?"

She opened eyes which were still strikingly clear despite the pain. "I
am told that you gave an animal this disease, and then you cured it."

McCoy paused, startled, then said, "It's not cured."

"It suffered, and now it does not suffer."

"I'm testing a device on it but it may not work."

"Why did you not ask my help?"

"Mah'Lee, I'm still at the animal testing stage."

"Leonard, I offer myself."

McCoy took a deep breath. "I can't possibly think of that.
Experimenting with rats is one thing but...people! Not for another few
months!"

"I do not have months."

McCoy looked down into the face, trying to keep his voice steady.
"It's not ethical."

"It may not be humanly ethical, but it is Vulcanly logical."

"If what I've tried is wrong, the animal will certainly die."

"I will die regardless, Leonard. I offer you what I can. Anyone in
these rooms will. There are fourteen others here with Khlabar, besides
myself. You have only to ask."

"No."

"My life is not important but there are others who will follow me into
this hospital bed. If you refuse my offer, they will certainly suffer
and die. If you accept, they have a chance to live."

"Don't you think I'm trying as fast as I can? Don't you think that if
I could help, I would? My God, I know you're dying! I know!"

She looked so frail that he wished back his outburst. "Leonard, my
life is not the issue here. For the sake of all those who suffer and
will soon suffer with Khlabar, you should be working with Vulcans, not
with animals."

"Mah'Lee, I'm sorry but I just can't justify such reasoning."

She covered his hand with hers, her touch so unfamiliar and so
strangely cold.

"I know that you have had some difficulty with the administrator of
this hospital. I have amended my final request. I have made it clear
that you will perform the autopsy on me and no other." She withdrew
her hand and closed her eyes.

He looked at her for a long time then, quietly, turned and left the
room. ---

McCoy slammed open the lab door. "You BASTARD! YOU TOLD!"

V'Rhsal glanced up in surprise. "Leonard?"

"I went to see Mah'Lee like you suggested." McCoy shot the words out,
utterly furious. "And she knew! She knew about our research, about the
rat I operated on! And I had to look at her, lying there so pale and
small, and I had to tell her that I couldn't do anything for her. Do
you have any idea how that made me feel?"

V'Rhsal stood, putting a table between him and the doctor. "Leonard, I
saw her from the hallway. I knew who she was but I have never spoken
to her."

McCoy stared at him in dismay. "How can I possibly believe you?"

"I could never lie to you."

"Vulcans DO lie! Don't tell ME they can't!"

"Vulcans can deceive, but I cannot do so with you. We are linked too
deeply."

A strand in the link quivered gently. McCoy, deflated, sunk into a
chair. "Then how did she know?"

"Many know," V'Rhsal said. "The communication port has been almost
continually in use today. You have twenty-three messages, and I have
spoken with the Academy twice in the past hour."

"How?" McCoy demanded. "How do all these people know?"

The Vulcan shook his head. "Perhaps the nurse that assisted you spoke
of it; perhaps someone in the administration office of the hospital or
someone from the Science Academy board. Those I have spoken to
are...amazed that you have advanced so far."

"Damnit, how do I know we've advanced anywhere? It's too early to tell
if the generator provides a permanent or just a temporary relief from
Khlabar. The rat's body could easily reject the generator. It's immune
system is all screwed up due to the disease. Any bug could kill it. It
could even just die from the stress of all this. How can anyone think
there's been any advance made here? I could be on the wrong track.
What if I'm wrong?"

"Leonard, it is wrong not to try." V'Rhsal frowned as the
communication port buzzed. "It is not my choice either to have our
work known at this stage."

McCoy heard it click as it recorded an incoming message.

"Damn..." he muttered as he got up and paced to the back window.

"Alternately such interest is positive if we should need to draw upon
other resources. If you can accomplish anything at all, Leonard, it is
more than Vulcan researchers have done. Remember, one in five Vulcans
can now expect to be stricken with Khlabar."

The doctor turned around. "I wonder why that is. Why DO so many of
your people get this?"

"Why did so many Terrans contract Cere-myelitis?"

"Because when it was in the first stage, that being a respiratory
virus, it was extremely contagious. It resembled a bad, bronchial
cold." McCoy quieted for a few minutes as he glanced at the computer
terminal by the Vulcan. Finally, he asked, "Could I hook up with the
hospital computer's mainframe on this?"

"Access is limited to a select few terminals in the hospital."

"Then I'll have to go back there. I want to review the current medical
charts."

"Can I help you?"

McCoy glanced at the half-completed generator. "If you could spare a
few hours, I'd appreciate some help going through the medical charts.
Do you have right-of-access for them?"

"Normally, no, but the Academy has given me research status with
limited access."

"Let's go then." ---

McCoy woke to the sound of the communication port in his bedroom. It
was flashing blue, indicating an off-planet call.

"I thought I was just hearing it in my sleep," McCoy grumbled. The
Vulcan got out of bed as the doctor fumbled quickly into a shirt and
some pants. "Wait, now, V'Rhsal. What if this is for you?"

As the screen cleared to reveal Captain James Kirk, the Vulcan lifted
an eyebrow and retreated downstairs.

Kirk smiled at McCoy's rumpled state. "Bones, did I interrupt you?"

McCoy blinked his eyes open. "What could you be interrupting on this
planet?"

"The beard suits you. Almost makes you look distinguished."

The doctor managed a smile. "Very funny, Jim. How have you been?"

"Other than broke, fine."

"Have you been making more bets?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the Captain admitted. "I thought I'd give you a
call. We were passing by when we found ourselves inundated by a glut
of subspace chatter."

"About anyone in particular?" McCoy asked with some trepidation.

"Is it premature to offer congratulations, Bones?"

"Damn," McCoy took a deep breath. "Jim, I've had some success with a
surgical intervention in a rat but that is all. In fact, I'm astounded
that this has leaked out."

"Poured out," Kirk corrected. "Khlabar is something pretty bad, isn't
it?"

"Yes."

Kirk sobered. "Have you had any more explosions?"

McCoy shook his head. "I'm still uneasy. It did look like a phaser
blast in the kitchen. V'Rhsal's increased his computer security to
cover viruses. We use self-contained computer terminals at home for
our notes and charting. I actually carry computer tapes back and forth
to the hospital lab and we've physically split our information in
several separate rooms in the house. I know this sounds extreme."

"Better to be safe." Kirk squinted. "You know, Bones, you don't look
bad at all. I'd almost say that Vulcan agrees with you."

"You called me at this hour to insult me?" McCoy grumbled. "How are
things upstairs?"

"We're fine. It's been business as usual. Lately it's even been
quiet."

"Quiet? With seven psychiatrists on board?"

Kirk smiled. "Quiet because we still haven't found the key to your
brandy chest and M'Benga refuses to allow anyone to break the lock."

McCoy laughed, suddenly relaxing. "Where are you off to now?"

"Starfleet Dock Seventeen, Earth. Council meeting."

"If you have any time coming back, drop by. Otherwise, I'll see you in
four months, Jim."

"Take care of yourself, Bones."

Kirk signed off and McCoy looked at the darkened screen without really
seeing it. Behind Kirk had been all the familiar colours, walls, that
stupid shield the Captain had picked up from somewhere and insisted on
hanging over his desk where McCoy feared it would drop like a boulder
onto his head.

The Vulcan entered the room bearing two cups of tea. He glanced at the
darkened com-screen, then at McCoy's face.

go on. say it.

V'Rhsal raised an eyebrow.

say what?

scowl and say 'moody old humans".

The Vulcan sat on the edge of the bed.

'moody' is not a term with which i am familiar. i apologize, but i did
overhear you tell your captain that you would return to the ship in
four months.

that was our original plan.

there is still so much yet to do

i know.

McCoy took a sip of the hot tea. ---

The rat survived so well that McCoy took a chance and implanted a
generator in a second rat. He returned to the hot lab the next day to
find an empty cage and the Vulcan on his hands and knees under a
table.

McCoy tried not to smile, which didn't make any difference anyway
since his amusement reverberated through the link.

the rat escaped.

the one i just operated on? it's still alive?

The Vulcan frowned.

obviously it survived the procedure, leonard.

McCoy heard a thump and a muffled squeak. The Vulcan stood and held up
a white ball of fur.

watch how you hold her, v'rhsal. she's a female in heat.

these females always seem to be 'in heat'.

The Vulcan deposited the animal in its cage with barely repressed
disgust. Immediately the male rat mounted her.

V'Rhsal quickly washed his hands.

i just came from mah'lee's room.

how is the kissar-adept?

McCoy leaned forward on the table and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

she refuses any interventions. she's pushing me about her autopsy. you
vulcans are so morbid.

V'Rhsal took the seat beside the doctor.

she wishes to help you.

i guess that's one way to put it. i went through those autopsy reports
again and i found one common thing, not related to cause of death but,
fortunately, something the coroner thought worthwhile to mention in a
secondary note.

which was, leonard?

all those who died had scar tissue in their lungs. so i went back
through all those medical charts, which was kind of tedious, but i
discovered something interesting in the medical histories. it seems
that nearly everyone stricken with khlabar who showed a quick
progression of symptoms also had a viral infection within the year
proceeding the khlabar diagnosis. so then i went and checked mah'lee
and five others on the ward.

and...

same thing. they all had what they termed a 'bad chest cold' which
required antibiotics. unfortunately, antibiotics don't do a thing when
it comes to viruses. anti-viral agents are only good in vaccinations,
in prevention. the antibiotics were prescribed to prevent any
secondary infections but, mainly, these colds had to just run their
course. i got some blood samples and a bit of lung tissue from one
very understanding lady. i also picked up a vulcan namacha, you know,
with the two tails. weird looking little rat.

where is he?

in soltar's lab. he and i made a make-shift vaccine off the tissue
sample and gave it to the namacha. in a few days i'll infect the rat
with khlabar and see what happens.

V'Rhsal paused.

soltar is now part of our research?

we're hardly keeping any secrets. however, a vaccine is no big deal.
he says it's been done many times in the past.

unsuccessfully, leonard.

right, they've made useless vaccines off the blood samples. however,
the viral infection in the lungs was a first generation bug. it's a
little different.

McCoy glanced over at the rats.

we're going in two directions, v'rhsal. prevention, if there is a
vaccine, and the generators. dear heaven, let one of them work.

V'Rhsal studied the doctor. The unspoken thought, she will die soon,
hung between them.

McCoy got up to leave but hesitated at a sudden, high-pitched squeak.
One of the rats convulsed at the side of the cage and fell over,
landing in the water dish.

McCoy lifted the little body out, then froze.

oh, shit!

leonard?

McCoy felt the back of the rat's neck gingerly.

shit! v'rhsal, it's the male! it's the male i operated on!

He laid the rodent on a towel.

well, that's it then. don't you dare ask me to operate on a vulcan
now. ---

V'Rhsal had a spread of metal parts and wires over the kitchen table.
He looked up at McCoy's arrival.

i thought i had heard your flyer.

He got the doctor a cup of tea as McCoy sat heavily in a chair.

i'm surprised i didn't set any alarms off.

i tuned outside security to your flyer's engine frequency. did you do
the autopsy on the rat?

he died of pneumonia.

that is hopeful. he did not die from the generator.

in a way he did. i had to give him anti-immune drugs so that his body
wouldn't reject the generator. he couldn't fight off any infection.

McCoy took a sip of his tea and winced.

what's in this?

you mentioned that alcohol and tea were mixable. i opened the bottle
that had been in the package from your terran friend. leonard, we do
not have enough information to ascertain failure. how is the female
rat?

she appears healthy. i put her in a sterile area but that means she's
isolated. rats need the company of other rats.

McCoy scrutinized the mass of metal on the table.

what are you doing now?

V'Rhsal didn't look at him.

adapting a generator.

adapting it for what?

When the Vulcan didn't answer, McCoy pushed out from the table and
paced to the counter.

damnit!

leonard, i still think that---

no! i don't care what the hell you think. you're not a doctor. you
wouldn't be the one doing it. i'm not putting one of those things in a
person and that's that!

you are fatigued. perhaps you should...

and don't tell me what to do! i'm sick of that.

i merely suggested.

i'm just angry, v'rhsal. hell, pneumonia, of all things! i didn't even
notice he was sick!

how could you notice? he spent most of his time mating with the
female, hardly the actions of an ill animal.

McCoy picked up his tea and went upstairs. He undressed in the dark
and lay down, feeling sticky in the heat. The alcohol made him feel
even warmer but it also eased the whirling in his mind and cleared the
awful smell of antiseptic from his nose. The growth of beard itched
from sweat.

He turned on his side, away from the strong moonlight. Downstairs, he
could hear the Vulcan tinkering, the scrape of the chair and the click
of metal parts. Outside was the wind and the incessant drumming of
sand. The communication port buzzed. He heard the chair scrape again
and the Vulcan's low voice.

"Please just leave me alone for two minutes," he grumbled. It wasn't
the end of the world to be on the wrong track, but then there were
those times when the whole world was watching. All those worlds...
Miri's world, Gamma Hydra IV, the USS Exeter and Omega, Shanta-rhu and
the constant rain, that blown-up place known as La Pig...had he really
a hand in all that? Had it truly happened?

The Vulcan's voice quieted and he was left with only the sand. That
and the vague feeling of being in someone else's house, a feeling that
hadn't quite faded away. She was still out in that mutara sector,
thank heavens. Still, he wondered. How could she just go? What kind of
relationship was it that let them all just pick up and go? Just like
your marriage, doctor, in case you've forgotten. Then again, what if
she actually came back? That would be a sight, the way he was in this.

He opened his eyes. It was dark at the door.

"...damn...."

He opened the link.

have you checked on that plant lately?

of course. go to sleep, leonard.

it'll strangle me and then you'll see how well i'll sleep.

He was dozing when the creak of the Vulcan's steps on the stairs
stirred him awake.

who called us anyway?

be calm, leonard. i have not had any news from the hospital.
ambassador sarek returned from your earth this evening and i accepted
his invitation for the both of us.

V'Rhsal sat on the bed, his back against the headboard. Cool drifted
through the link like a gentle fog until the throbbing in McCoy's
forehead eased.

it's awful, this waiting.

then you allow that mah'lee will die?

v'rhsal, i will not be the one to kill her.

McCoy closed his eyes to the sound of the sand on glass.

have you ever been to shanta-rhu?

i have taken very few trips from vulcan.

you probably wouldn't like it. it's very wet. the rain goes on and on.
gets into everything.

did you stay there long?

i never get a chance to stay anywhere too long. the one time i tried,
they drafted me.

i find it difficult to envision such a life. why did you choose it?

now there's a loaded question.

loaded?

McCoy smiled.

complicated.

unanswerable, leonard?

i've never taken the time to answer it, that's all. why did you choose
your profession?

you asked me once before.

and you didn't have an answer.

i see. it was a loaded question. if i am not prying, may i ask you
something more?

McCoy shrugged.

i have sensed a word from you...yonada. is this a place you have
visited also?

just once.

it is often in your thoughts. why did you not stay there?

McCoy glanced at the Vulcan's unreadable face, at the dark eyes and
brow.

the answer to that would take all night.

V'Rhsal regarded him.

forgive me, leonard. i invade your privacy.

after that incident that one morning, what privacy do i have left?
which brings up a question for your logical mind to mull over. have i
kept my word to you to be celibate?

V'Rhsal frowned.

does that morning now amuse you?

it's starting to.

illogical. the goal is to master the emotions, not be a slave to them.
a study of vulcan history is a sober lesson of the cost of such
enslavement.

you could try living in harmony with your nerve endings.

it is not possible. that morning was a shameful display. i not only
disgraced myself but, worse, i did so with you. i was too curious. at
the first sign, i should have mastered it.

impossible. could you have also mastered my display? in case you
hadn't noticed, it happened to both of us.

but you are human. it is different.

oh?

McCoy sat up.

what do you think of humans, v'rhsal? do you think we just do it at
every end and turn?

at every what?

i have some standards too and being with another male is not part of
them.

leonard, i did not mean to insult you. i did not know humans regulated
their procreative nature. i only meant, with the frequency of act and
partners, humans seem to be...

seem to be what? immoral? deviant? depraved? unscrupulous?

i have noticed they breed like...rats.

McCoy rubbed at his beard.

let's hope none of this depravity rubs off on you through our link.
don't stay up all night thinking, ok? i want to get some sleep.

As McCoy settled back down on the bed, V'Rhsal fell quiet. After some
time, he turned back to the doctor.

leonard, i did not think you indiscriminate. i thought that humans
accepted their nature and what happened between us would disturb you
less.

When the doctor only scowled, the Vulcan added,

obviously, i am correct in this assumption.

v'rhsal, it's not that it disturbs us less. We just don't treat it as
something that can kill us if we don't have it. you vulcans go through
these big, elaborate rituals. you get the whole family running around
shaking bells and parading through the desert. everybody knows what
you got on your mind and, on top of that, if the woman decides she'd
rather go shopping, you could just up and die. it seems like a helluva
way to 'procreate'.

leonard, vulcans prevent conception during the rutting.

oh, right!

a child conceived during such a frenzy is likely to be born impaired.

then, what do you...i mean, how do you...um...? what's the point of
it?

i do not know the point of it. it is the vulcan way and has been for
centuries. pon farr is the time of mating, not the time of conception.
when we decide to conceive a child, it is a simple matter. the
female's uterus is stimulated with an electric current to induce
ovulation. she inserts a suction tube through her vagina. the male
releases semen into the mouth of the tube by applying gentle pressure
at the base of the penis. she lies supine for a period of time, then
continues with her day's duties.

McCoy sat up and stared at the Vulcan.

where's the fun in that?

'fun?' do you mean, physical sensation?

yeah. the fun.

V'Rhsal shook his head.

the intent is conception. there is no need for physical sensation
though the female might feel some discomfort from the current and the
tube.

McCoy blinked.

you mean, you can 'release semen' without feeling anything?

yes, leonard. do humans not have the same control?

i'd say we always feel it.

McCoy laid back down, his thoughts chaotic. Then he frowned.

that morning you felt something too.

i have admitted as much.

is that why you said you had shamed yourself? because it was
pleasurable?

there is no logical rationale for what we did.

no, but maybe there's no logic involved in any of it. when humans get
together it's for sharing something very deep, or it should be, though
some of us are indiscriminate. the point is not generally conception.

humans do seem overinvolved with this activity. i do not understand
how deep it can be when it does not involve mental joining as well.

so you think we're missing out?

V'Rhsal regarded McCoy for a moment.

leonard, hold up your hand.

McCoy did so. V'Rhsal raised a hand and slowly extended his
fingertips, then closed his palm over the doctor's.

what do you feel, leonard?

McCoy's fingers trembled under a peculiar warmth.

it's...hard to put in words.

this is the beginning of pleasure. this is where vulcans start when
they wish to share something deep.

Still shivering, McCoy pulled his hand away.

---

Soltar bent his elegant head over the small cage in his office and
studied the small namacha. "The one appears to have tolerated the
split-virus vaccine without ill effect."

McCoy nodded. "I'm glad."

Soltar straightened. "I checked him this morning. All life signs are
normal. He had a slightly elevated temperature last evening and some
swelling at the hypo pressure spot. I recommend at least ten days
before infecting him with Khlabar."

"I appreciate this, Soltar. I can keep him if he's in the way."

Soltar shook his head. "He is no problem here and is not at risk from
your infected namachas."

"You know that the one i operated on died yesterday."

Soltar looked over. "No, Leonard. I did not know that."

"Pneumonia."

"Possibly unrelated to the device you and Kór V'Rhsal developed. Will
you try with another namacha?"

"I haven't decided," McCoy replied softly.

"If I can be of any help, you have only to ask. There is a lecture
this afternoon on the Tohlmar Vascular Regeneration Technique. Would
you care to attend with me?"

"I'd like to but I have a...social engagement."

Soltar regarded him curiously.

"Forgive my humour, Soltar," McCoy said as he stood. "I've been
invited out to dinner."

---

McCoy was at the computer terminal in V'Rhsal's office when the link
tingled. He paled, then, quietly, shut off the terminal and leant
forward. V'Rhsal found him there a little while later, sitting
silently in the dark.

leonard, we are late.

i'm not in the mood to go out and socialize.

ambassador sarek is waiting for us. i brought a change of clothing for
you.

v'rhsal, i have an autopsy to do.

it will wait.

how can you be so cold-hearted? she was a wonderful lady.

we have accepted this invitation.

forgive me, v'rhsal. i shouldn't let a little thing like someone's
death stand in the way of dining out.

The Vulcan's face was severe.

leonard, you are human but you are on vulcan. there are certain codes
of behaviour and convention you should do your best not to insult.

don't pull that tone with me, vulcan.

leonard, i do not understand your overwhelming moods. each death is a
loss but there is no gain by sitting inactive in the dark. master your
grief and get up from that chair!

McCoy eyed the Vulcan for a moment before rising slowly. He picked up
the clothing V'Rhsal had brought.

would it help you to see her before we leave?

McCoy shook his head as he changed.

you carry a deep anger with you, leonard.

will you please stop psychanalyzing me? it's really annoying.

my apologies, leonard.

---

Sarek's house was unchanged, familiar. It carried a strong, human
touch despite the austere architecture and alien landscape. Sarek also
seemed unchanged. He led them in to the living area.

"My lady wife is on earth visiting her family and will not be joining
us."

"How is Amanda?" McCoy asked, his voice neutral.

"Very well. She will be sorry to know that she missed you, doctor. It
is an honour to see you again, Kór V'Rhsal."

"I am the one honoured, Ambassador."

As they sat down, V'Rhsal added, "We were detained as we received
distressing news this afternoon."

"Oh?" Sarek paused from pouring tea.

"There was a death at the hospital, an acquaintance of Leonard's."

"My sympathies," Sarek said, eyeing the doctor's impassive face.

McCoy picked up his tea, avoiding Sarek's scrutiny.

After a long moment of silence, Sarek turned to V'Rhsal. "I hear much
of you and Dr. McCoy. I trust your work is progressing well."

"We believe it is too early to ascertain," V'Rhsal replied. "We did
not present our work to public scrutiny."

"How was it made public?"

"We do not know."

"Do you wish an investigation made in that area?"

"No. We have taken precautions."

Sarek glanced at McCoy, his face thoughtful. "Doctor, I hope your stay
on Vulcan has not been unpleasant. I admit, you are not someone whom I
think would enjoy this society."

"You got that right," McCoy caught V'Rhsal's look, and added,
"Fortunately, I didn't come here for a good time."

"Have you had opportunity to sample Vulcan culture?"

"I've had enough of kissars."

V'Rhsal raised a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. After a
long stretch of silence, McCoy said softly, "Sarek, I'm sorry. The
person who died this afternoon was someone that I truly liked. Though
she was sick for a long time, and I knew there was little hope, it
doesn't make it any easier."

"I am not offended, doctor," Sarek said. "I grieve with thee." He
stood. "I have heated food that my wife prepared. She enjoys this
activity and takes time to make it palatable for vulcan and human
taste. I hope you will enjoy it."

"If Amanda made it, I look forward to it," McCoy said.

The meal, though meatless, was very good. It had been a long while
since McCoy could remember liking the taste of his food. Sarek, in
deference to the doctor's mood, kept quiet throughout the dinner. When
McCoy put his fork down, the Ambassador looked over.

"Amanda often complains that she feels stifled by Vulcan rules and
social standards. Do you find it so?"

"Well, I doubt I'd retire here," McCoy said. "What I have found most
aggravating is an almost total lack of a sense of humour."

"Humour is an acquired attribute."

"I've also noticed that some Vulcans are very pushy." McCoy glanced at
V'Rhsal who ignored him.

Sarek looked between them, a ghost of a smile in his eyes. "May I
enquire about the progress of your research? It sounds as though I
should not trust news reports."

McCoy took a breath. "We infected a rat with Khlabar. V'Rhsal stylized
a small neural field generator which I implanted at the base of the
rat's cerebellum. It rerouted impulses away from the damaged nerves.
All symptoms disappeared. We had a happy rat, and then he died."

"He died of pneumonia, Leonard," V'Rhsal corrected.

"But he still died."

V'Rhsal turned to Sarek. "Leonard has repeated the surgery in a female
rat and has isolated her in a sterile environment."

"How is she?" Sarek asked.

"So far, all right."

"And the symptoms of Khlabar?"

"No symptoms showing," McCoy admitted.

Sarek studied the doctor. "But you are not pleased?"

"It's not that."

Sarek paused, then said, "Implanting an adapted generator was not your
original aim, was it Kór V'Rhsal?"

"We were forced to revise our working theory." V'Rhsal moved a plate
out of the way and rested an elbow on the table. "It was Leonard's
idea to use surgical intrusion."

"Interesting," Sarek commented. "And you had no problems with Academy
funding when you revised the theory?"

"Fortunately, no, we did not," V'Rhsal said.

Sarek nodded. "If your research undergoes any more revision and you do
find a problem, inform me and I will speak to the Academy. I do not
forsee any obstacles, however. At this point they seem eager to invest
in you."

McCoy frowned. "Since we're using their money, can I assume that they
own the results of this research?"

"It is a natural assumption," Sarek said.

"Tell me, if I decide that surgically implanting a generator in a
Vulcan isn't a good idea, but those old coots that sit on the board of
that committee decide it is a good idea, will they ignore me and
pursue this route anyway?"

"You should expect it."

On the ride back to the hospital, V'Rhsal glanced at McCoy.

you are very quiet. are you well, leonard?

considering where i'm going, i'm all right.

perhaps i should tell you something. the money that financed the
generators was my own. i have the receipts.

why did you do that?

i am the only one to hold a patent. no one can use it without my
permission.

The doctor managed a small smile.

do you have many reservations over the surgery, leonard?

i want to be careful.

then, be aware, you do have that option.

As V'Rhsal landed the flyer, he continued.

do you wish me to wait for you?

no, the walk will do me good.

---

The house was dark when McCoy returned. He palmed the front gate,
holding his breath, but the alarms remained silent. He had his hand on
the front door when, on impulse, he walked around to the back and into
the garage.

It was pitch black inside. He stepped into the doorway but the lights
failed to come on. As he groped at the wall, trying to find the light
connection, his shoe banged something hard.

"Shit!"

He found the switch and yellow light illuminated a toolbox on the
floor. There was nothing else in the room.

McCoy glanced around. He stepped back outside and looked around the
yard. Finally, he darted up the stoop and into the house.

The kitchen was quiet and the door that led to the basement stairs was
shut. He walked through the first level of the house quietly, passing
by closed doors. He'd never been in some of the rooms though he knew
what they were. V'Rhsal's study was near the front door, and a passage
led to his wife's office. The main living area was dominated by his
possessions and a segregated part of the house was clearly her's. It
was as though two distinct apartments were contained under one roof.
McCoy walked through silently, looking under tables, on furniture.
Lights switched on as they sensed his presence and darkened
noiselessly when he left.

He retraced his steps down the main passage and started up the stairs.
The Vulcan was sleeping undisturbed so McCoy passed by the bedroom
without entering. He tiptoed quietly, peeking into open rooms and
passing by those with closed doors. The same division existed upstairs
as it had down, with areas clearly meant as hers and others as his.

He ended in his own room. There was no sign of the plant.

He sat on the edge of his bed, then hastily rose and inspected
underneath it.

"Where the hell are you?" he whispered. He went to the window but the
high walls impeded his view of the neighbour's yard. Beyond the back
yard he could only see sand. As he surveyed what he could see, he felt
a sudden chill.

"Where the hell is...?"

McCoy opened the link and woke up the Vulcan.

v'rhsal, i'm sorry to disturb you.

what is wrong, leonard?

did you park your flyer somewhere else?

The Vulcan awakened fully. McCoy opened the communication port and
called the Vulcan constabulary. ---

A huge Vulcan answered McCoy's call. He made a visual search of the
yard and surrounding area quickly and impassively before returning to
the kitchen where McCoy and V'Rhsal waited.

In a toneless voice, he asked, "Are you missing anything other than
the flyer?"

tell him about the plant.

no, leonard.

v'rhsal, what if it blows up somewhere?

"There was a...houseplant, weighing approximately seven hundred
kilograms."

"Colour."

"Brown and green."

"Type."

V'Rhsal hesitated, then said, "Fern."

"What type of plant was it, Kór V'Rhsal?" the Vulcan repeated.

"It was a prototype, a first generation, unclassified. It is
potentially explosive."

He was given a long look. "What exactly is the nature of your research
here?"

McCoy cut in. "It was a simple molecular chain based on cerebral DNA.
It stored energy for its own use. Unfortunately some of the places
where it stored energy were unstable. We had it under containment.
Whoever took it is at personal risk."

He stared the big Vulcan down without flinching. "You can clear our
credentials with the Vulcan Science Academy."

"I will do so, Kór Makkoy." He strode to the door. "The security
system is quite effective, therefore, whoever entered your property
knew how to do so without sounding an alarm. Do you suspect anyone?"

V'Rhsal considered momentarily, then said, "No, I do not."

"We have attempted to trace your flyer's recall signal without
success. Security posts in the area have been alerted. When we have
made progress, we will advise you."

McCoy made a pot of tea and handed the Vulcan a cup.

do you want me to spike it?

pardon?

with alcohol? it helps.

McCoy was given a severe look.

my flyer was secured. yours was open and nearest to the garage but
mine was the one taken. i have sent a message to sah'sheer but she has
not yet replied.

she's out in the mutara sector.

leonard, she is the only other person who knows the codes for the
security system.

McCoy looked away.

v'rhsal, when we had the first problem i checked on where she was and
i know she's still there. she is confirmed as active personnel aboard
the Nézni and is still on that ship's logs.

He waited for a response, anger, confusion...anything...but the Vulcan
remained calm in the link.

v'rhsal, you told me that you had to end your bonding with her in
order to do this research with me. i have to believe you because i
don't know much about these things, but it occurred to me that she
didn't have to move out.

that was her decision.

and not my business. but it still brings up the question of who was
here and how did they know how to get around the security?

McCoy propped his elbows on the table and rested his head in his
hands, trying to get comfortable.

did you do the autopsy?

yes, i did. she went into respiratory failure. what a little lady,
v'rhsal. she was so small on that table.

McCoy closed his eyes.

i also checked on our female rat. she's ok but i think she's pregnant.
soltar's keeping his eye on the rat that i vaccinated. he suggested a
ten day waiting period before infecting it and i concur with that.

The com port buzzed. McCoy groaned.

shit. whose turn is it? yours or mine?

V'Rhsal opened the port.

"Speak."

"Kór V'Rhsal, we have located a flyer matching your description.
Section 2, Sub and Lahja. Will you identify?"

"Yes. I will be there directly." ---

Who was that woman, he wondered? Long, black hair flew out behind her
as she walked along the shore. The wind flattened her dress against a
rounded, maternal stomach. She came upon him suddenly, not realizing
that he was there, and she started. Her eyes filled with fear.

"Please, sir, I must go home. My mother is waiting for me."

He felt himself moving, against his will, with heavy lead feet. His
arm felt heavy and sluggish as he reached over and fastened on her
arm.

"Please, sir, let me go! Please!"

Her tears felt hot on his skin. Why was he holding onto her? He
strained desperately to release her but could not. Her arm was turning
purple.

The wind slowed and a soft breeze blew off the water. It cooled his
cheeks. His heart gently slowed. Opening his hand, he let her go.

The coolness did not recede and he woke to the sound of the Vulcan's
voice in his mind.

do not open your eyes, leonard.

His heart jolted.

why?

calm yourself. i mean only to let you sleep. the dreaming is over now.

As he settled back down, the Vulcan's voice came more quietly.

what will you do when you return to the enterprise?

i suppose i will dream.

perhaps not. do you know who she was?

yes. my mother. ---

McCoy sat up, feeling sweat run down his back. He opened his eyes and
the sun nearly blinded him. V'Rhsal was sitting in a chair, arms
crossed, looking out the window.

what time is it?

irrelevant, since you follow earth's twenty-four hour day.

what time is it to you then?

The Vulcan did not answer.

v'rhsal, i think you're angry. don't take it out on me, huh?

anger is non-productive.

McCoy rubbed his temples.

what a godawful headache. i think i've had one since i've been here.

i apologize.

what for now?

i have given you back a memory you buried from yourself long ago.

it's why i've been dreaming, isn't it?

vulcans do not have the ability to obscure our memories. since being
linked to me, i believe this part of myself has affected your mental
defenses.

you mean my human mental bandaids.

perhaps, but there are events i wish i could forget.

V'Rhsal stood and walked to the window, laying his hands on the sill.
After a long time, he continued. when i decided to ask your help in
this research, sah'sheer told me she did not approve. she tried to
change my mind.

was it because of the mindmeld?

there was more to it than that. she was most insistent in her
disapproval but her opinion was irrelevant. until now.

V'Rhsal's shoulder muscles tensed.

my flyer was in pieces. you would not have known it, leonard. i barely
recognized it myself. if it had not been for the registration number
imprinted on the drive block, i would not have been able to identify
it.

but i told you, she's too far away and this is a severe response, even
if she didn't approve.

leonard, it took but a moment to teach the security codes to you.
further to that, she has not replied to my message, though there has
been ample time. it is in her best interest to avoid reply. she will
not appreciate what i will say to her.

The sill splintered. McCoy's breath caught but V'Rhsal merely glanced
down at it, at the pieces still held tightly in his hands.

instead of wrecking your windows, perhaps you should change the codes
on the security system.

i have already done so.

V'Rhsal dropped the pieces of sill and walked out of the room.

---

"Come here, baby." McCoy reached into the cage and picked up the
female rat. She wriggled at first, then settled in his hand.

"You're getting fat, momma," he said as he gently stroked her stomach.
She would deliver soon but her litter would be born infected with
Khlabar. They would not survive.

He replaced the rat, then walked through the hospital to check on the
namacha in Soltar's office. This was the one where his hopes lay.

He was in the coffee shop when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"May I join you, Leonard?"

Ambassador Sarek stood behind him, hands clasped behind his back in
that posture his son had inherited.

"Certainly," McCoy answered.

As Sarek took a chair across the table, he continued, "I looked for
you in your lab and was informed by a nursing aide that you often come
in here."

"Well, no one stares at my ears here."

Sarek looked around the room, as if taking the doctor's comment
literally. Finally he returned his gaze to McCoy.

"How is your work progressing?"

"All right."

"And yourself?"

"Fine."

Sarek studied him, then nodded. "You did not look well that night at
my home."

"I don't doubt it." McCoy took a sip of his tea and made a face. "I
tell you, Sarek, the first thing I'm going to do once I'm back on the
Enterprise is get a decent cup of tea. I just can't get used to this
Vulcan kind."

"It was in the second year of our marriage that Amanda tried to grow
her own tea leaves."

"Now there's an act of desperation," McCoy said with a smile. The
amusement was echoed in Sarek's eyes. "All these years I've known your
son," McCoy said, "I think I finally understand what he goes through
being on a ship full of humans."

"Has it been so difficult, Leonard?"

McCoy replied sardonically. "Look who I work with. Do you know what
they call V'Rhsal behind his back?"

"The Glaciator," Sarek said.

McCoy chuckled. "You do know."

"Where is Kór V'Rhsal? I could not find him."

"I haven't seen him myself for three days."

"But you know where he is," Sarek said softly.

"I always know where he is. But this isn't the best of times to
disturb him."

Sarek did not press further. Changing the subject, he said, "My
interest in your work is not an idle one. The purpose of my visit to
the hospital today was to visit an acquaintance who is in the terminal
stage of Khlabar."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It's a horrible death."

"I do not wish to press you but I must ask. Can you offer any
prospect?"

McCoy took a long time to respond. "No."

The Ambassador nodded once. He looked around the room once more, at
the filled and busy tables. Finally, he said, "The Enterprise is due
in Vulcan port in four point seven three eight days."

"Have you been in touch with Spock?"

"Federation Council. The ship is stopping only to transport myself and
an aide on board. I will be meeting a Romulan delegation on the
neutral planet Allát."

Prickles rose on McCoy's neck. "Starships escorting Ambassadors to
neutral planets gives me a bad feeling."

"There has been some trouble along the Klingon-Romulan border."

"I thought they had a treaty."

"Which they have never admitted to," Sarek said. "The Romulan Embassy
initiated first contact. They believe that Vulcan has been supplying
the Klingon Empire with some sort of weapon."

"Vulcan? You mean, the Federation."

"No," Sarek said. "Vulcan."

McCoy sat back in his chair, troubled. "The Romulans are not quick to
jump to conclusions. And, in my stay here, I've discovered that
Vulcans are peace-abiding but not peaceful."

Sarek studied him. "I fear this news distresses you. I trust you will
not shorten your stay here because of it."

"What I have started can easily be finished by Vulcan physicians,"
McCoy pointed out, irritated by the comment. "In fact, everyone seems
to have their own opinion as to what should be done next."

Sarek nodded. "Exactly."

---

The wind coming off the lake whistled, an eerie lonely sound that
whipped by McCoy's ears and chilled his face. "It is Vihár. The storm
season approaches." V'Rhsal turned his face from the wind and drew his
jacket closed.

The water rushed at McCoy's shoes and drenched them. Another wave
neared and he took a step back, squishing in the icy sand.

"Worry is non-productive, Leonard."

McCoy managed a small smile. "You don't have to stay out here."

"You need me to show you the way home."

"I've got your map in my mind."

The Vulcan didn't budge. The doctor tried a different tactic.

"I thought your insurance paid up. How come you're not out buying
another flyer?"

"I will do so tomorrow."

McCoy watched another wave come in, then turned.

"Let's go. I can't stand hearing you shiver anymore."

They walked along the shore, back towards where they had parked
McCoy's flyer. The Enterprise had come and gone. The fact that Kirk
had not sent even a greeting indicated the urgency of their latest
orders. V'Rhsal, sensing the doctor's temptation to return to the
ship, hardly left his side for a week. So it surprised him this
morning when McCoy sent notification to Starfleet that he was
extending his leave.

McCoy was just about to get in the flyer when a group of tall,
dark-red rocks caught his eye.

"What's over there?"

V'Rhsal opened the door. "Thenés, the place of he who rests."

"Rests? As in buried?"

"Leonard, let us go." The Vulcan sneezed.

"Who's buried there?"

"Surak."

"Surak?" McCoy turned around.

"Leonard, it is not right to look upon him unless you have undergone
Emlék, the ritual of Remembrance."

"What do you mean, look upon him? You can see him?"

"Yes." V'Rhsal got into the flyer.

"That Surak? Who died over a thousand of your years ago?"

He was given a forbidding look. McCoy took a deep breath. He could
smell the approaching rain. The ground rumbled.

"Vihár," V'Rhsal said softly.

McCoy got into the flyer and shut the door. "Your world is so
violent."

"My world was violent. We keep the scars to remind ourselves of what
we once were."

The ground thundered again. "No, V'Rhsal. Your world is violent."

The Vulcan was quiet during the ride to the hospital. Finally he
turned to McCoy and said, "I sense curiosity in your mind."

"You can hardly blame me. But if you say it isn't right to look at
him, then I'll abide by that."

"What is the next stage of our research?"

"Infect the rat in Soltar's office."

"And the generator?"

"Still necessary. A vaccine is only good for prevention and don't look
so damned astonished. I know you've already adapted three generators
for Vulcans."

"One."

"Three. If you think it's possible to hide anything in that mass of
wires and metal in the basement, you'd better think again."

"One unit has been adapted. Two are in the process, therefore they
have not been adapted, past tense."

V'Rhsal sneezed.

"I hope you're not getting a cold." The moment he'd spoken the words,
McCoy felt a chill. Keeping his voice casual, he added, "When we get
to the hospital, I'd like to have a quick listen to your lungs."

His only response was an annoyed glance.

---

McCoy pressed his hand to the window pane and felt it shiver against
the storm.

"If it isn't sand, it's rain," he muttered.

He heard coughing from upstairs.

"Damn."

He laced a cup of tea with antibiotics and took it upstairs. V'Rhsal,
sitting up in bed, was also looking out the window.

"How long does this stormy season last?"

"A month."

"And the rest of the time it's dryer than a bone. What a crazy
planet."

"It is no different from the desert ecological systems on your home
planet. The Sahara and Gobi deserts have an annual---" The Vulcan was
interrupted by a bout of coughing.

"Shut up and drink."

McCoy sat on the edge of the bed and handed the Vulcan the cup.

V'Rhsal took a sip, noted the taste, but said nothing.

Thunder boomed. For a split second the room was lit with bright light.
Then the sky cracked and darkness returned.

"I'd like to get some work done. Will you be all right?"

He was given a severe look.

"Before I go I wonder if I could take a sample from you."

"Stipulate."

"A few cells of lung tissue. It requires a small incision."

"Purpose?"

"To set my mind at ease."

"I see no reason for it."

"I didn't ask if you did." McCoy got his medkit. "Open your shirt.
Come on. It's not like I haven't seen your chest before."

The com-port buzzed while McCoy capped the tissue in a vial. He
listened to the low hum, then said, "It's recording an incoming
message."

He waited until the port stopped humming, then hit playback. The
visual lit to reveal a striking-looking woman. She had graceful
features and rich, brown hair that was swept back over clearly-pointed
ears. McCoy swung the screen around. "For you?"

V'Rhsal contemplated the image. "She who was my wife."

McCoy packed up his medkit. "I'll be back later."

---

He took a walk through the wards as he listened to the storm outside.
People were moving quickly in the halls, as if the rain had stirred
them up.

He stopped by the nurse's station and checked a few charts, then went
to the lab. The rats were quiet. The litter had been born but the
babies were undersized. Two had already died and the other four were
grey. They lay against their mother, hardly moving.

McCoy put the Vulcan's lung tissue under a microscope. He had just
bent over the lens when the door signal buzzed loudly in the silence
of the room.

"Enter."

The door opened. McCoy heard the storm again as T'Pall, the hospital
administrator, came into the room.

McCoy stood up. "En'T'Pall, I am honoured," he said in Vulcan.

"I would speak with you, human Makkoy." Her hard eyes swept over him.

Undaunted, he frowned back. "Will you? I am an unbonded male." She was
speaking what he thought was High Vulcan. Very unnecessary and really
rude since he was sure she knew he hardly understood it.

"I find it necessary. The family of Mah'Lee indicated their
displeasure to me that a human had conducted her autopsy."

McCoy shrugged. "That was her request."

"She was very ill when she reflected this request in her will."

"She was ill but her mind was still sound."

"In your opinion."

"There is nothing in her medical record to indicate that her own
physician felt she was otherwise."

T'Pall was quiet and McCoy felt a small flash of victory.

Finally she said, "I am in charge of this facility. Therefore, I must
assume responsibility for the actions of all those who work here. This
responsibility covers your actions as well. If there is any question
or concern arising, I must address it."

"If the concern is based solely on the fact that I am human, there is
no logical basis for it."

"Why was her own family physician not in attendance during the
autopsy?"

"I asked him. He declined. If Mah'Lee's family has concerns, why don't
they just come and see me?"

"Duplication. I am already doing so," T'Pall said.

"Such as it is," McCoy replied. "Look, I'm here because I was asked to
help. Khlabar affects twenty percent of your population. Your husband
died from it."

"Vulcan is able to manage its own interests."

"Oh, this all comes down to pride, does it?"

"Illogical."

"Then what is this really about?" McCoy asked. "Does this have
anything to do with your son?"

She regarded him placidly, unmoved by his outburst. "Seven official
requests have been made to you regarding the use of the neural field
generator which you and Kór V'Rhsal devised. I assume there have been
unofficial requests. You refused all. I wonder what kind of help you
truly offer."

"Those requests were for me to implant a generator in a person."

She regarded the rats. "Implantation has been successful with the
namachas. A Vulcan suffering from Khlabar is the next, logical step."

"And if they die because of it?" McCoy asked harshly.

"It is a risk you took with these namachas."

"There's a big difference."

"They are living creatures. They have as much right to life as any
other creature. However, they do not have the ability to give informed
consent."

"People can consent to anything they wish. It doesn't make it right."

"Your human sentimentality has no place here."

"I'm hardly sentimental," McCoy said. "I don't give a sheep's behind
what anyone thinks I should be doing next. The fact is that I have not
completely ascertained the safety of this surgery. Until I have done
so, I will not try it with a person. If anything should happen, it's
my responsibility."

"And mine," T'Pall said. "I understand the weight of this decision. I
concur with the hospital board that you are delaying unnecessarily."

"I have yet to see either you or anyone from the hospital board in
here checking on these rats. I doubt you understand what the generator
really does. I bet you haven't even seen it. On what kind of
information are you basing your opinion?"

"Our decision was based on the report submitted to the board by your
partner, Kór V'Rhsal. I would think that he understands what the
generator really does," she said dryly.

McCoy sat down. The floor felt like it had shifted right out from
under him. "When did he submit this report?"

"Four days ago."

"And did he recommend implanting a generator in a Vulcan?"

At her silence, McCoy looked up.

"Well?"

T'Pall eyed him back. "His report indicated that it was a logical next
stage."

McCoy took a deep breath. "I know it is the next stage too, but did he
recommend it?"

"He is an engineer. He would not make a medical recommendation. But I
think he concurs that you delay without just cause."

"That is your opinion," McCoy said angrily.

"Then we will ask him. Where is he?" T'Pall reached for a com-link.

"He's sick."

"Confirmation would take one point six minutes. Is he at his house?"

"I don't want to disturb him. He's probably sleeping."

"Verify."

McCoy frowned. "Pardon?"

T'Pall's eyes bored into him. "You are linked with him. Verify if he
is asleep."

McCoy blinked. Then, gently, he reached through the link.

v'rhsal, expect a call from your mother...

Out loud, McCoy said, "He's awake."

T'Pall placed the call. "Human Makkoy, you are in danger of having
this research taken away from you."

McCoy got up and walked to the back of the lab, embittered. Vulcans
acted solely on logic, he knew but he had trusted V'Rhsal more than he
had ever trusted anyone.

T'Pall called to him.

bitch, he thought. Damned, pointed eared b-i-t-c... Then he heard
V'Rhsal's voice, ragged from his cold.

"While I agree that surgical insertion of the generator in a Vulcan is
the next stage, I submit this from a non-medical judgment."

T'Pall glanced at McCoy. "Kór V'Rhsal, has a generator been adapted
for a Vulcan nervous system?"

"Yes."

"Do you know of any contra-indications from those rats who have
undergone the surgical procedure?"

"No, En'T'Pall."

McCoy felt a wave of anger but clamped his jaw over it.

"Then, do you acknowledge there has been a delay in next-stage
implementation?"

"Yes, I do."

McCoy sat down and rubbed his forehead.

"Kór V'Rhsal, would you be willing to work with a replacement
physician for the remainder of this research?" T'Pall asked.

"No, I would not."

T'Pall stopped, startled. McCoy glanced up.

"Explain," she said.

There was a pause, then V'Rhsal answered, "I concede a delay between
logical progression in this research, however, I must trust Kór
McCoy's opinion regarding safety."

T'Pall had turned to look at McCoy. He swallowed, trying to keep any
expression off his face.

"Kór V'Rhsal," she said, "The Hospital Board may also decide to remove
you from this research."

"Understood. Perhaps you should tell them that I alone hold the patent
for the generator design."

"End transmission." T'Pall cut off the feed. Her face was unreadable.
She regarded McCoy for a long time before saying, "Kór V'Rhsal's link
with you may be overextended."

"That's got nothing to do with the hospital board," McCoy replied
quietly.

"I will, of course, consult with them tomorrow."

McCoy stood as she went to leave. "En'T'Pall, I truly am trying to
help. Please believe me."

"What did you say?"

McCoy stepped back. "I'm...um...trying to help."

She honoured him with one of the most terrifying looks he had ever
received in his life before whirling out the door.

v'rhsal, what did i say?

The Vulcan took a long time to respond.

leonard, we will have to work on your high vulcan.

what did i say?

you told her she had a sehlát up her nose.

McCoy clapped a hand to his mouth.

my lord, i wonder what else i said to her? ---

Sarek of Vulcan made adjustment for the gravity before leaving the
meditation chamber. Adapting for various gravitation pulls was not an
activity that normally interfered with his ability to concentrate.
However, two weeks of feeling too light on his feet and breathing this
air's glut of oxygen was making him heady. He'd reset the environment
for the chamber this afternoon. Now, after a mere two hours, he felt
quite refreshed and ready to resume his work.

He took the turbo to the crew's deck. James Kirk had extended an
invitation to him earlier. He knew it was not an invitation at all but
an order from the captain of the ship. Though he had been treated with
every courtesy, these were strained times.

When he reached the Captain's cabin, he touched the buzzer gently.

"Come."

Jim Kirk was sitting at his desk when Sarek entered, but he rose and
extended a chair.

"Ambassador, I thank you for coming." He opened the servitor. "Tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Then we might as well get to it," Kirk shrugged, resuming his chair.
"Sarek, we've been sitting at this border for too long now without
having any idea what we're doing here."

The Vulcan studied the human. "Three solar months, seventeen days ago,
a Romulan embassy official hosted a Klingon entourage. They discussed
a planet recently discovered to contain large deposits of anatremium,
a planet which is in a grey area of disputed space between their two
empires. The meeting lasted several hours, during which time they
agreed on nothing. The Klingon party departed after claiming that the
next time they visited they would bring a Vulcan who would state their
case."

Kirk frowned. "A Vulcan? Who?"

"I do not know. No name was given and no one in my government claims
knowledge. The Klingons were apparently most insistent or the Romulan
official would not have believed their claim. Sixteen days after the
meeting, the Romulan embassy sustained a massive explosion. Two died.
Oddly, no cause for the explosion was found. No toxic residue was
detected. The explosion originated in the room that had hosted the
Klingon delegation. The room above housed some memory banks which were
completely destroyed. The data lost was apparently quite sensitive
though I have been unable to find out what kind of information
specifically had been kept in the banks." Sarek paused for a moment.
"Romulan security measures are inordinately exhaustive. They insist
the room was carefully screened before and after the meeting. If the
Klingons had thought to sabotage the embassy in any way, I am sure
that their efforts would have been in vain."

"Yet the Romulans believe the Klingons left a bomb behind?"

Sarek nodded. "I find their logic fails. What kind of weapon is this
that does not leave any trace, that does not look like a weapon, that
takes sixteen days to explode?"

"It is hard to swallow," Kirk agreed. "If the Klingons had left a
bomb, you can bet they would have set it to go off quickly. The longer
the fuse, the greater the likelihood that it will be found. It is more
likely that whoever left the bomb, if it was one, did so just before
it detonated."

"Just after the explosion, the Klingons contacted the Romulans. They
said the incident was a gift from their Vulcan friend."

"And, of course, if the Romulans think that a Vulcan is involved, the
Federation may be backing him." Kirk frowned. "But it's ludicrous. I
can't say I've met that many Vulcans but I don't believe your people
spend much time developing weaponry. On the other hand, it makes more
sense. A Vulcan could walk around Romulan stations without too much of
a problem. Even to sensor scans, Vulcans and Romulans are fairly
similar."

"No rational Vulcan would commit such an act," Sarek said, then added
quietly, "unless it was...logical." He paused before continuing
impassively. "The Klingon Government has indicated that their Vulcan
friend will vandalize another Romulan embassy if the Klingons are not
given mining rights."

"Did they say when this would take place?"

"Actually, it was scheduled for today."

Kirk blinked. "And...?"

"I have no more information at this point than you do, Captain."

"Did the Klingons happen to say which Romulan embassy?"

Sarek looked away. "The one around which we are in orbit, the embassy
on Allát." <CENTER>PART FOURTEEN</CENTER>


Soltar stood behind McCoy, holding a piece of gauze to his arm.

"Thanks for the blood."

"Is this a human custom, to thank?"

McCoy shrugged. "Only for us polite ones." He put a drop of Soltar's
blood on a microscope slide and checked it quickly. "Nice and green
and healthy. If I'm not prying, how old are you?"

The Vulcan regarded the visual from the slide. "Seventy-eight
seasons."

"Do you know if there have been any cases of Khlabar in someone so
young?"

"No, I do not."

"I suppose it doesn't matter for my purposes. I wondered if age has
anything to do with how well the body can fight off the infection,"
McCoy donned some gloves and retrieved a small test tube from the
cooling unit. "I'm going to give your blood sample some of the vaccine
and then infect it with Khlabar."

"How long will you wait between vaccination and infection?"

"I'm not going to wait," McCoy put a drop from the test tube into the
vial holding Soltar's blood and then dropped the vial into a
centrifuge.

McCoy and Soltar had infected the vaccinated namacha, and he was
living a healthy, happy life. McCoy had returned him to the cage with
the infected rats and he discovered the joys of females...and lived
happily. McCoy then vaccinated and infected three other animals, a
small chooni which looked like a squirrel, an oroz which was related
to sehlats, and Soltar's house pet, the dog-like lejár.

"I do appreciate all your help with this, especially risking your
lejár."

"What little I have done has been an honour," Soltar replied Though
his face was always a mask of Vulcan placidity, McCoy had come to
recognize the small nuances in the tones.

Soltar retrieved the vial from the centrifuge as McCoy got another
test tube from the cooling unit.

"Well, here goes nothing," McCoy infected the blood. Then he and the
Vulcan stood back to watch the microscope screen.

The infected Khlabar cells were easy to spot. They moved fast, as if
they'd been in jail and had finally been released. They attacked the
healthy blood cells, encasing them. McCoy's heart sunk as he watched.

"Damn..." he said but Soltar shook his head.

"Leonard, look."

The Khlabar cells were unable to gain a foothold. They died slowly,
their membranes rupturing. Within a few minutes, the infection was
overwhelmed.

McCoy exchanged a look with Soltar.

"Infect the sample again, Leonard."

He did so, and the results were the same.

McCoy stared at the microscope screen as a flush spread across his
shoulder blades. "Soltar, do I dare think...?"

He turned and Soltar was smiling.

---

V'Rhsal raised his glass solemnly. "Is this the correct human custom,
Leonard?"

McCoy laughed as he repeated the gesture. "Yes."

"To your success," the Vulcan said.

McCoy took a sip of the Altair water. "I don't want to sound
premature, V'Rhsal but..."

"I will qualify. To your success to date."

"V'Rhsal, *our* success to date."

"Leonard, you were the one who thought of making a vaccine from the
cells in lung tissue rather than from blood cells. It was your idea to
surgically insert the generator. My contribution consisted of a theory
which had to be discarded."

"You're right," McCoy said. "Making a neural field generator that
weighs a mere quarter of an ounce is hardly anything to be proud of."

V'Rhsal raised an eyebrow, catching the joke.

"I've rather enjoyed the consequences of this," McCoy admitted.
"Particularly the look on your mother's face when she tried to have
us removed from the research on the same day that we presented the
results of the vaccination tests to the Science Academy."

"I was not aware of any expression of emotion on her facial features,"
V'Rhsal said.

McCoy grinned. "Didn't it feel good to get the last word with her?"

"Feel?" V'Rhsal asked stiffly. Then he relaxed and met McCoy's eyes.
"I concede, Leonard. It did feel good."

McCoy had spent the morning in meetings with the medical directors of
four hospitals. He had agreed to vaccinate a small group of volunteer
Vulcans who already had some contact with Khlabar. He refused to
deliberately expose anyone to the disease. Surprisingly, all four
physicians agreed. He had sat at the table, ready with a mouthful of
humanitarian cautions and ended up simply swallowing them.

McCoy drained his Altair water and set the glass down. "I infected an
oroz with Khlabar and he's starting to show some symptoms. Once it's
full-blown, I'm going to put a generator in him."

"And if that procedure works?" V'Rhsal prompted softly.

"If it works, and if I see no evidence of anything untoward, I'll
seriously consider...a person."

"Time duration?"

McCoy shrugged. "A month?"

V'Rhsal nodded as he sat at the kitchen table. "Your leave ends in
four months, six point five days. That should be a sufficient time
frame."

"Vulcan physicians are more qualified to work with Vulcan patients. I
could return to the Enterprise earlier, if needed," McCoy said, trying
to word the thought discreetly.

To his surprise, V'Rhsal answered openly. "Sah'Sheer is not expected
here for over two years, Leonard and, in this procedure, you are more
qualified than any other physician, Vulcan or otherwise."

"I'm not trying to pry."

"This is your concern as well. Your link with me was the catalyst for
her withdrawal." The Vulcan picked up a computer tape and regarded it
without really seeing it, his gaze abstracted. "There are subjects
which Vulcans do not discuss, not with outworlders, not between
themselves. I have, however, been able to trust the most personal
matters with you. I do sense a...worry in your mind regarding that
which is unspoken. I will tell you. Sah'Sheer will return to me to
fulfil family obligation."

McCoy sat down as well. "It's not just that. How is she going to react
when she finds out about that one morning?"

"Irrelevant to her, Leonard. It was between you and me."

"In human culture these incidents are kind of relevant."

V'Rhsal eyed the doctor dispassionately. "Interesting. However, I
would not dishonour your right of privacy by offering such information
to her. It does not logically concern her as it was outside the bounds
of our betrothal and marriage."

"But I have a suspicion she has acted with a logic you may not
comprehend," McCoy said. He chose his next words carefully. "V'Rhsal,
I do worry. I have witnessed this Vulcan madness. It is not a death I
would wish on anyone." He paused before adding, "I don't know what
inferences you have made regarding the assumed phaser blast to your
kitchen floor and the destruction of your flyer. We still haven't had
word on that potentially explosive plant we grew. But I infer that you
suspect her somehow or you would not have changed the security system
codes without her knowledge."

"Do you not also suspect her?"

McCoy shook his head. "Based on what I know of motivation and despite
that I have never met her, I distrust her. But I think I distrust her
more with regard to you than with our research. I can't believe a
Vulcan capable of such destruction under these circumstances."

"Then, Leonard, who would you suspect?"

"A non-Vulcan."

V'Rhsal lifted a disdainful eyebrow. "That encompasses the galaxy."

"No, just anyone listening in on subspace chatter."

"Your theory not only requires a suspect but a motive."

"But yours has too many holes. What would your wife want with the
plant? Someone has it."

"The plant has probably been destroyed by now."

"I didn't hear a kaboom. That bunch of leaves would have blown with
the force of three tons of TNT."

"Three tons? I am sure I calculated three point six."

McCoy sighed as he got up to make tea.

---

The water was crystalline and warm. No trace of the storms remained.
McCoy enjoyed the easy warmth of the lake even as the relentless sun
seemed to scorch his back through his shirt.

"This is beautiful."

V'Rhsal, sitting barefoot in the sand behind him, shrugged. "I do not
understand your fascination with water."

"What fascination? I'm just enjoying it."

They had taken a deliberate break today, McCoy from the confines of
the artificial light in the hospital and V'Rhsal from the dark of his
underground lab.

"When I was a boy, I used to spend the summers fishing."

"If I understand correctly what that is, it is barbaric."

"Only to a culture that begs forgiveness from plants before pulling
them from the ground."

"We do not 'beg'. We ask."

McCoy smiled. "Whatever."

He walked along the shoreline. "I learned to swim when my father took
me to see the great Pacific ocean. It's not easy to learn in salt
water. You can hardly sink low enough to paddle." He kicked up some of
the bottom mud and watched it swirl in the soft tide. "We went the
next summer to the Atlantic but that ocean is cold."

The Vulcan got up and followed. "My father maintained inter-business
communication systems. I accompanied him to see some of the
installations. I found the organization and theory of the system
intriguing."

McCoy glanced back. "But you didn't follow in his footsteps."

V'Rhsal frowned. "Pardon, Leonard?"

"You didn't end up with the same job."

"It was not necessary that I do so." The Vulcan stopped suddenly.
"Thenés."

McCoy hadn't realized he'd walked so far. He turned back, away from
the upthrust red rocks.

"Some sights are for Vulcan eyes only."

"Yes, I know," McCoy said, retreating past V'Rhsal. The Vulcan did not
follow.

"You have kept Vulcan secrets. This I will show you."

McCoy glanced at the rocks. "V'Rhsal, I don't really wish to see it. I
just wondered why it was so wrong to see it."

V'Rhsal looked across the sand. "Before Surak, Vulcans believed in
many things. They believed in outside forces which ruled us,
controlled our actions and thoughts. These forces had names and
protocol. They were born of false superstition and base fear and we
believed that they lived with us." He turned to the doctor. "Surak, in
order to overcome these superstitions, undertook a journey alone, in
this place. These hot sands were almost inaccessible by foot,
impossible to survive in. He came out here alone and survived three
months before returning to the cities. He claimed that, during his
journey here, he called and captured those forces which controlled us.
He said that they were responsible for war, for fear and distrust. He
named them and said he had encased them in stones, these stones,
forever locked away." He walked toward Thenés and McCoy started after.

It took nearly half an hour of hard walking in the sand. The rocks
seemed to grow as they neared. Dark red, they stood twice McCoy's
height and many times his width.

V'Rhsal neared but did not touch the enormous stones. "Do not look to
their top, Leonard. It is...bad luck."

McCoy lowered his gaze. "I didn't think you believed in luck."

"This has nothing to do with belief. This is our history," V'Rhsal
answered. "I stand by the first, the prison of Aälom who plagued with
visions and dreams. Next is Moru, she of many griefs. After comes
Asfčl who brought anger and madness, and beside him is the encasement
of Iâko who stirred the tumults of the sea and air." V'Rhsal walked on
slowly. The wind seemed to fight around these rocks. McCoy, feeling
alternately silly and spooked, followed closely.

"Ekla, who sought power and dominion. Next is Cikk who invoked lust
and desire. This is the hold of Jarë, who gave hunger, and then Icces
who brought the cold." He stopped by the last rock and laid his hand
on it. McCoy put his hand next to the Vulcan's, then quickly jerked it
away.

"It's hot."

In a whisper, V'Rhsal said, "Uvaar, the murderer."

McCoy took a breath. "They're just rocks."

"We know that now. I suspect Vulcan knew it then. Surak did no more
here than seek shade and meditate."

"Why did he make up such a story?"

"We needed to believe him, then and now." V'Rhsal looked up at McCoy.
"This is the purpose of Emlék, the Ritual of Remembrance." He started
walking again. "We must retrace our steps. Then we may go in."

McCoy trailed the Vulcan's steps, sweating in the heat. When they got
to the first rock, V'Rhsal squeezed around it. McCoy hesitantly
followed suit and found himself in a dim, circular area. A cloudy
dome, looking small in the vastness around it, lay in the centre of
the rocky floor.

"Such as he has lain," V'Rhsal whispered.

McCoy took a few steps, then murmured, "Oh my Lord..."

A yellowed skeleton lay inside the dome. Some of the leg bones lay
askew but the arms were thrust out wide. The fingerbones were clenched
in on themselves, as if agonized. Several ribs were completely
shattered. The top of the skull was buried in the ground. But worse
was the huge saber, jammed through the pelvic area. The long curve of
the blade ran through the backbone and the tip of the sword cracked
through the jawbone and forced it up towards the sky.

"He had many enemies, many who threatened and chased him. But it was
his own wife who killed him."

"I thought she killed him somewhere else, um...éhes vegel."

V'Rhsal nodded. "He was moved here. It was felt this place was more
fitting."

"And when they moved him, they laid him in this position?" McCoy asked
in a hushed tone.

"It was the position in which he died." The Vulcan glanced around at
the rocks. McCoy noted he was careful not to look to the tops of them.
"Vulcan has carried many taboos from past time to the present, even
though they seem illogical to outworlders. We do this to keep ever
reminded of the way it was. We hold Surak's name in tribute but the
purpose of this place is not to honour him. It is to honour that which
he believed in. He was not a 'magician' . He did not seek to dazzle or
amaze. He was simply a Vulcan male who developed a philosophy that
stands to this day." He took a step back the way they had come.
"Leonard, this sight you must not reveal. You must observe Vulcan code
of silence."

He walked out of the circle and McCoy came after him, quiet in his
thoughts. It was easier going to return to the lake, to the blinding
play of sun on waves. McCoy looked across the water for a while, then
said, "I just want a quick swim. I get tired of sonic showers."

He stripped off his clothing and dove in. The Vulcan waited patiently,
hands clasped behind his back. McCoy floated, feeling the sun across
his stomach.

you will get another burn.

it's worth it.

that is not what you said the night you could not sleep and your skin
hurt even from contact with the air.

McCoy smiled.

ok. ok. i'll come back in. ---

McCoy heard the com-port buzzing from the kitchen. Sighing, he put
down his fork and plodded into the living room. It had been a long day
at the hospital. All he wanted to do now was eat and sleep.

Soltar was at the other end. "My apologies for interrupting, Leonard.
I wished to inform you that there is a volunteer for the surgery."

"Already?"

"Ten volunteered."

"There's only ten on the ward."

"Yes. I made a random selection, as per your instructions. His name is
Kór Stoll."

McCoy frowned. "And does he know that I'll be the one operating?"

"Of course, Leonard. They all knew. Do you wish me to book a surgery
for you?"

McCoy paused, then nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow afternoon if possible. And,
thanks Soltar."

He ended the transmission and stood in the dark room. Though the oroz
he'd operated on last month had developed a slight swallowing problem,
there'd been nothing else. The same procedure with an igerret had gone
smoothly. Still...

He returned to the kitchen, dumped the food, and went up to bed. The
house was quiet. The wind outside had died down and the moons were
gentle in the sky. He was lying in bed, listening to his chronometer,
when V'Rhsal returned home. The security system beeped as it was put
through a check. A few minutes later, soft footsteps passed by his
door.

He stretched out on his pillow, trying to get comfortable. It was very
hot tonight and perspiration slid freely off his legs and arms.

The Vulcan entered the room and asked, "Leonard, why are you not
sleeping?"

McCoy rolled over. "What the hell does this look like? An ito-fër
game? Look, just because you get a little moody after these family
dinners--"

"I am a Vulcan. I am not...moody."

"Horseradish."

V'Rhsal blinked. "Leonard, I checked in at the hospital. You are
scheduled to operate on a Vulcan tomorrow afternoon at 1330 hours. You
have been working very hard these past eleven days. Is it not wise to
rest as much as possible tonight?"

"You're nervous too, aren't you? After all, that's your thingamabob
I'm gonna put in a person."

"Thingamabob?" V'Rhsal shook his head.

"Admit it."

"I am incapable of nervous behaviour. But I am unable to rest due to
yours."

"Sorry."

"You have not experienced any sleeping problems since the memory of
your mother's death was returned to your conscious mind. Could there
be a further issue here?"

"Thanks for putting it so delicately, V'Rhsal, but no, I'm fine."

The Vulcan frowned. "You are not still suffering from that sunburn on
your--?"

"Will you stop reminding me of that?"

"Have you had any word from your ship?"

At McCoy's silence, the Vulcan nodded and left.

---

Stoll was a large, swarthy Vulcan, intimidating despite the evidence
of Khlabar in his actions. When McCoy entered his hospital room, he
carefully studied the doctor up and down before speaking.

"You are the Healer Makkoy?"

"Yes, Leonard McCoy."

"I have heard much of you."

McCoy pulled a chair to the bedside. "I wanted to take some time to
speak with you before the surgery this afternoon. I also wanted to
give you a medical check."

"Have you not reviewed my chart?"

"Yes, but I'd prefer a quick check too. Do you have any objections?"

"No, it is logical. You may proceed."

McCoy took out his scanner and took some readings. "Has anyone told
you about the neural field generator designed by my partner?"

"I have reviewed its specifications and am aware of its use in a
namacha, an oroz and a igerret."

"Aware of its use? Interesting term. Do you know what happened
specifically?"

Stoll regarded McCoy. "Indicate."

"The generator completely reroutes the path of 6-hydroseron in the
cerebellum. It can be likened to a neural disrupter."

"A disrupter is a weapon."

McCoy shrugged. "That's its most deliberate use. I have been
monitoring the animals with the generator very carefully and I have
found no evidence of damage. However, the oroz has experienced a
swallowing impairment and is on a pureed diet."

Stoll thought for a moment. "Do you foresee other results?"

"To be honest, this is a complete unknown for medicine," McCoy
replied. "I traced the route of 6-hydroseron carefully and Kór
V'Rhsal's design of the generator is quite precise. I want you to
know, there are potential risks with any surgery and more so when you
are the first to undergo a procedure."

"That is a natural assumption."

"I wish to check four of your reflexes, Kór Stoll. This will require
touching you."

"Proceed."

McCoy braced his own mental shields, then found he needn't have
bothered. Stoll's were steel.

"The generator will be fixed just above the second dorsal. It's
ilidium-powered so you're looking at twenty years of power. I'll need
to make a two inch, lateral incision. To put it in, run a few tests
and close will take about an hour and half. I'll have to use a general
anaesthetic. Do you have any questions so far?"

"No, I do not, Healer."

"Has the lab been in to do bloodwork?"

"Yes, and I have undergone enhanced scanning."

"Well, I just wanted to have a look, see where I'm going," McCoy
smiled but his bedside manner was lost on this patient. "When was the
last time you ate?"

"I have fasted for ten point three hours."

"Good." McCoy put his scanner away. "I'll be assisted by your
physician and by another surgeon, Kór Soltar. Judging by my
observations, I expect you may have some mild, temporary impairment in
your sensory reactions from the second dorsal down. It shouldn't last
more than a few hours. I'll be with you when the anaesthetic wears off
but I don't want you to try moving anything until I tell you to, and I
definitely want you to avoid the healing trance. The generator has to
sit quiet for a little while or your body will try to bypass it. I'll
be lowering your immune system's reactions as well so your antibodies
don't attack it. That means no visitors and you'll be in a sterile
field."

"Understood."

McCoy packed his medkit away. "I'll be back just before surgery."

---

He had rediscovered the traditional intern pose, chair tilted back
against the wall, legs stretched out and braced on the bed frame, arms
crossed and chin on chest. It was the closest you could get to laying
down while being on call.

It was just after 1600 hours and he could hear the supper carts in the
hall. His stomach rumbled as they went by. He hadn't eaten since
breakfast but he wanted to be here when Stoll woke up.

The Vulcan stirred once, then quieted. A few moments later, his eyes
opened.

McCoy stretched, then stood. "Easy, Kór Stoll."

Stoll tried to focus. He blinked.

"Feeling fuzzy? It'll go away," McCoy said, pulling out his scanner.
"Are you in any pain?"

The Vulcan tried to speak but his throat was hoarse. He shook his
head.

"Here." McCoy gave him some water, then resumed his examination. "The
surgery went very well. No problems. The generator is sitting at the
base of your skull and it ran just beautifully in simulation during
the procedure. However, like I told you, your body is trying to figure
out what it is. So I don't want you going into a healing trance or
even trying to control pain. Your physician left a prn order for
painkillers with the nurse on this floor. I want you to let her know
if you need anything. I don't want you in any distress."

"...understood..." Stoll managed.

McCoy tapped the Vulcan's fingers. "Can you feel this?"

"...yes..."

"And this?"

"...yes..."

"Good." McCoy glanced at the diagnostic screen over the bed. "Any
tingling or numbness in your arms or legs?"

"A slight numbness in my left hand."

"Can you make a fist?" McCoy asked.

Stoll shook his head. McCoy glanced at him.

"Try."

"Healer Makkoy, I am unable to use my left side due to Khlabar."

"Stoll, remember I said not to try moving anything unless I told you
to? Well, I'm telling you. Make a fist with your left hand."

Stoll blinked at McCoy's no-nonsense tone. Then, slowly, he attempted
contracting his fingers. They moved slightly.

McCoy noted the diagnostic readings, then pulled out another scanner.
"The generator is humming along."

"Humming?" Stoll questioned. He coughed and McCoy gave him more water.

"Just a human term," McCoy said. "I was talking to a physiotherapist
after surgery and she's going to come in here tomorrow morning and do
some exercises with you. Because you've been unable to use your left
arm and leg, you've got some muscle atrophy. She and your physician
are designing a program so that we can get you back walking."

Stoll swallowed, his face losing a bit of it's impassive expression.
"I am unable to walk due to the effects of the disease."

"And I'm telling you that you're going to walk. Your tendons have
shortened. I warn you, physio will hurt." McCoy put his scanners away.
"I've started you on some anti-immune drugs. So, no visitors except
your doctor and the physiotherapist, all right?"

Stoll raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be stubborn."

"Stubborn?" the Vulcan echoed hesitantly.

McCoy smiled. "I'll come see you tomorrow afternoon. Try and get some
sleep." ---

McCoy stacked the empty cages and labelled them for sterilization.
Very few rats were left in the hot lab and most of the equipment had
been taken away.

The door opened and V'Rhsal entered. He glanced quickly around.

"You have been cleaning."

McCoy nodded. "I hope I didn't interrupt you when I called this
afternoon but I thought it might help if you met Kór Stoll."

"For what purpose, Leonard?"

McCoy took a seat. "He won't walk, won't even attempt to weight bear.
He claims that Khlabar has advanced too far."

"He was in terminal stage before you operated."

"He was but I expect he'll be around long enough to have the
generator's power source replaced."

V'Rhsal raised an eyebrow. "That is encouraging."

McCoy smiled. "When we first met, you told me Vulcans were not able to
believe in illogical things. You said only humans seemed to be able to
heal themselves when rational belief told them they were incurable."

"I remember."

"Well, Stoll has a big case of the logics. He knows he was unable to
walk before surgery and his doctor told him he'll never walk again. So
he won't try."

"Why did you call me, Leonard?"

"I want you to explain the generator to him. I tried but he's too
smart for me and I don't understand the schematics. I know he could
walk."

"Perhaps there are other factors," V'Rhsal said.

"Nice try but I've already had three physicians playing devil's
advocate with me today," McCoy replied, amused. "Kór Stoll had no use
of his left arm before. In fact, he had no feeling left. Now he not
only has sensation but he can make a fist, hold objects, and make fine
movements such as writing. But to get him to do that took a lot of
convincing. It took a whole morning of yelling."

"You raised your voice to your patient?"

"I practically shook him silly. He's a stubborn bugger."

"I am willing to explain the generator's function to him, if you think
it will help. I do not have your bedside manner however."

McCoy stood. "Can't have everything."

As they walked to the ward, V'Rhsal said, "I have patented the adapted
generator design and have sent it to the teaching facility's lab for
production. Seven generators should be ready for use by the end of the
week."

"One step at a time, V'Rhsal," McCoy said softly.

"How does the vaccine progress?"

"One of the volunteers deliberately infected himself with Khlabar
after I vaccinated him. I chewed him out but he just kept giving me
this dumb look and saying, 'but it was logical, healer'. However, he
has no signs and no trace of infection in his blood. I was wondering
if you would care to be vaccinated yourself. It's a quick hypo in the
arm, that's all."

"As soon as we have spoken with Kór Stoll."

"As soon as you have spoken. After my last shouting match with him, I
don't think he cares to see much of me right now." McCoy shook his
head. "Stubborn Vulcans. You're all so damned aggravating."

V'Rhsal regarded the human with a droll look before asking, "Which
room is his, Leonard?"

"The one at the end. I'll be in the nurse's station."

---

The Romulan embassy on the neutral planet Allát rumbled and rocked
quietly to itself before spilling in a cataract of plastic,
tintanium-sheeting, and glass.

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Spock raised his head. "Captain,
sensors are registering a disturbance on the planet surface."

Kirk spun his chair to face the science station. "What kind of
disturbance?"

"Ground disturbance, co-ordinates LJ five, intersect seventeen point
three, in the planet's capital city."

Uhura spoke up. "Captain, I've lost the carrier signal from the
Romulan embassy."

"Spock?"

The Vulcan straightened. "I believe it was the embassy. No detectable
radiation, no trace of any known chemical toxin. Playback does not
indicate any unusual sensor readings prior to the disturbance."

"Damage?"

"From the force indicated, I would say damage would be quite
extensive, radiating to a maximum squared area of three point eight
two kilometres."

"Damn..." Kirk looked over to the communication's station. "Uhura,
buzz Ambassador Sarek's quarters and ask him to come to the bridge,
then raise our embassy planetside. Tell them we can offer medical
assistance."

"Yes sir."

"Spock, I want you to take readings of the damaged area very
carefully. If we're allowed to send medical assistance, I want you to
go along and do a thorough scan. Look for any signs of sabotage."

"This is a neutral planet."

"I know, Spock," Kirk said, "and I hope it stays that way."

---

McCoy scratched at his throat.

stupid collar! who designs these things anyway? embittered women?

V'Rhsal gave McCoy a small look before refastening the doctor's top
buttons.

i sense agitation, leonard.

i hate going anywhere that requires dressing in a noose.

still, you must concede that very few humans receive the vulcan
science academy accolade of achievement. you have well-earned this
tribute.

we have well-earned this tribute.

leonard, you discovered a vaccine. you not only conceded the
possibility of implanting a generator but did so successfully, more
than once.

no, v'rhsal. we did this. together! you're in for halfsies, vulcan.
don't try to wriggle out of it.

V'Rhsal gave the buttons a last tug.

is this more comfortable?

no.

V'Rhsal put on his coat.

i trust you have nothing more to delay you and that we are ready to
depart.

McCoy put on his shoes. He got as far as the door.

just a minute.

V'Rhsal, halfway onto the porch, stopped.

what is it now?

i have to go to the bathroom.

again, leonard?

have a little sympathy. i'm going to be up on a stage in front of
three hundred some odd people.

so am i, but it has not affected my bladder.

so help me, if you think one more nasty thought, i'm not going.

---

The Academy reception hall was overflowing with formally-dressed,
somber Vulcans. Leonard McCoy, human, edged in behind V'Rhsal and
groaned.

"Good Lord...."

V'Rhsal permitted a slight smile in the doctor's direction. "Do you
wish to know where the washroom facilities are here as well?"

"I'd watch your step if I were you. Remember, it's my turn to cook
dinner tomorrow."

An elderly Vulcan stepped up to McCoy and, in halting standard, said,
"Healer Kór Makkoy, I extend greetings. I am Strik, First Preceptor."

The doctor, startled, replied, "Um...thank you. If it is easier, I do
speak orthodox Vulcan."

Strik switched to Vulcan. "Kór V'Rhsal, welcome."

He led them to a table by the podium. As they walked through the
crowd, McCoy felt himself keenly scrutinized, dissected by a mass of
pointed ears and sharp eyebrows.

v'rhsal...am i the only human here?

it certainly appears so, leonard.

it's that version of hell i've always worried about.

When they were seated, the hall quieted. McCoy stared into his Altair
water, avoiding the mass of pale-green faces. It was bitterly hot,
worse due to the crowd, and the Altair water was warm.

Strik stepped up on the podium.

"Academy associates, advocates, sponsors, invited guests...I introduce
to you Healer Kór Makkoy and Kór V'Rhsal who have accomplished one of
the furthest goals of medical research. To describe their results,
and, in deference to Kór Makkoy, I will use a human word for which
there is no Vulcan correlation. The value of their work is
inestimable."

McCoy felt a weight of deep silence. He hesitantly looked up then
heard the pull of V'Rhsal's sudden intake of breath. Every Vulcan in
the hall was standing. Their arms were raised, palms forward, in the
solemn gesture of the Vulcan salute.

---

McCoy, holding a cup of real coffee, leant against the doorway.
V'Rhsal, who had been prowling the edges of the living room, turned.

the coffee smells good, eh? want some?

momentarily.

McCoy tried to keep a smile off his face.

looking for the best place to display it?

i am merely judging the effect of light and shade on this wall.

the fact that this is the first view you have of this room from the
doorway has nothing to do with it. that wall is obviously better than
this wall here.

V'Rhsal hefted the plaque, then set it carefully on a table.

it should logically be hung in a place best suited in dignity.

and in a place where it stares back at you.

leonard.

come on. i think you should be very proud.

pride has nothing to do with it. we have accomplished a goal, and done
so one year ahead of schedule.

i hope we've done so.

V'Rhsal turned to the doctor.

the vaccine works. stoll, the first on whom you operated, walked
without hindrance to the stage and presented you with the award.

i'm just cautious, that's all. I hope he's still walking ten years
from now.

it is not logical, leonard, that you are prompt to acknowledge success
in others but slow to see it in yourself. if he walks a week from now,
it is still more than he would have had otherwise.

V'Rhsal went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of the heady
black coffee. McCoy followed more slowly and took a seat at the table
across from the Vulcan.

you've gotten suddenly quiet.

V'Rhsal finally looked up, his eyes unreadable.

leonard, i asked much from you. the hardest was the meld. i am
uncertain how distressful and painful it truly was for you.

McCoy shrugged.

as i'm unsure how it was for you. perhaps that's because it's more
than a meld.

we are bond.

McCoy swirled his coffee around the bottom of his cup and managed a
smile.

sure is one of the oddest things that's ever happened to me, i can
tell you.

leonard, is there any reason to remain bond to each other?

McCoy took a long time to answer.

i...suppose not.

V'Rhsal set his cup down. Out loud, he asked, "Will you be returning
to the Enterprise soon?"

McCoy cleared his throat.

"I thought I might wait until third season. We still haven't isolated
the virus that causes Khlabar and I'd like to give that a try."

"If we end the meld, you would no longer have to remain celibate."

McCoy laughed. "Ending the meld wouldn't change that, even if I didn't
stay on Vulcan."

V'Rhsal eyed the doctor, unsure of the humour. Finally, he said, "You
have been offered honourary citizenship. You may remain quite freely."

"Well, I hardly want to live here. Bloody boring planet." McCoy
drained his cup. "Anyway, I've got my eye on a room near the
university. I've been asked to do a few lectures."

"Leonard, you have a room here."

The doctor got up to refill his cup, staring into the dark liquid.
"V'Rhsal, I have to ask you two very personal questions. The first is,
when is your next cycle?"

He glanced at the Vulcan but V'Rhsal remained dispassionate. "Two
years, Leonard."

"Second, when is your wife returning?"

"Two years."

"That's cutting it awful close." McCoy returned to the table. "I don't
know much about it, but I kinda of think there isn't really a schedule
to it at all. It could be in two years. It could be one or three
years, right?"

V'Rhsal's eyes darkened. "It is unpredictable."

"She's out of touch with you. How is she going to know when to
return?"

"I will tell her."

"And she'll come?"

"She will come."

McCoy looked across at the stoic features. "Then, there is no longer
any reason to remain melded, my friend."

---

The wailing of the ship's automatic red alert was the first indication
of the Klingon scoutship. The second indication was the visual. She
literally drifted into view, propelled by harsh, solar tides, spinning
silently to reveal a black, bubbled tear in her hull. Kirk frowned at
the sight.

"Spock?"

"Klingon scoutship, class T, standard crew of eight to twelve. Low
power functioning. Losing atmospheric pressure. No life signs."

Kirk eyed the ship. "What happened to her?"

"Sensors show extensive damage radiating from the ship's lower decks.
Likely an explosion from inside the ship. Cause undeterminable without
a closer inspection."

"No automatic beacon, Captain," Uhura said. "No distress signal."

"It happened without warning. Where did she drift from?"

Chekov looked up. "Course computations show back-course from quadrant
TP5, dead space."

"Spock, any idea how long ago this happened?"

The Vulcan shook his head. "Unable to compute from this range,
Captain."

Kirk swung back to the viewscreen. "Chekov, take an Away Team. Do a
complete scan. Back on board in thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir." Chekov turned his station over to his relief and left the
bridge.

---

Kirk looked up as Sarek stepped onto the bridge.

"Ambassador," he acknowledged.

"If I may, Captain."

Kirk nodded. Sarek took a place beside the science station. He studied
the viewscreen which was relaying tricorder images from the Away Team.

"Have your men found any survivors?"

"No," Kirk replied. "They've found nine dead, five from the explosion
and four from the atmospheric breach."

"Unfortunate," Sarek commented.

The interior of the Klingon ship was dim and smoky, the air heavy with
dust and debris. The only lights were from the ship's failing
emergency system and from the torches carried by the Away Team.

"The source of the explosion seems to be their medical sickbay," came
Chekov's filtered voice.

Kirk could see him, ahead of the yeoman carrying the tricorder visual.
He turned, to look back briefly, then shook his head and continued on,
stepping carefully over piles of wrenched metal and plastic. Thick
black cables swayed gently from the ship's motion. Chekov checked them
with a scanner before moving them away.

"Their atmosphere isn't going to last too much longer, Captain. What
should we do with the bodies?"

"Leave them. We don't want any accusations of interference by the
Klingon government."

Chekov paused then said something too low for Kirk to hear.

"Pavel?"

"I said this must have been their greenhouse."

He stepped over a dark mass on the floor, then continued down a
hallway. "Damage is much worse here. We're definitely getting close to
the source of the blast."

The walls had bent out from the shock. Chekov, holding his arms out
straight from him, was unable to touch the sides of a normally one
metre width hallway. He looked down at the floor, then turned around,
looking puzzled.

"We can't go much further, Captain. The floor won't take our weight.
As well, tricorder readings indicate the hull breach is on the other
side of this door. I don't dare open it."

"All right. Finish up your scans. Can you get to the engine room?"
Kirk asked.

"We'll try."

Chekov pulled his men around and they backtracked. The tricorder
visual grew jerky.

"There's a lot of...strange wreckage on the floor, Captain. Organic
material. It almost looks like..." Chekov frowned. "Like a burnt
garden."

"Direct scan feed to the science officer," Kirk said.

"Organic remains. Plant tissue," Spock said. "Nothing of interest."

"We still haven't found a cause for the explosion," Chekov said.
"There's nothing in their engine room to explain it."

He swung the beam from a torch toward the floor. Long, leafless brown
vines lay clumped and inert around his feet. Sarek suddenly came down
beside Kirk's chair.

"Captain, call your men back."

Kirk glanced over at the Ambassador, puzzled by the tension in Sarek's
tone.

"Ambassador?"

"They are in imminent danger."

"From what? All the Klingons died in the explosion."

Sarek studied the visual on the viewscreen. "The plant tissue is the
source of the explosion and there is a vast amount of it remaining.
Call your men back."

Kirk eyed Sarek for a moment, then glanced at Spock. "Spock, inform
transporter room."

"All right, Captain."

"Now it's up to you to explain, Ambassador."

Sarek glanced around the bridge. "Perhaps somewhere more private,
Captain."

Kirk rose. "Uhura, when Chekov returns, have him report to briefing
room one. Spock, Ambassador, after you."

---

Sarek took a seat in the middle of the briefing room table, across
from Chekov who was just removing his portable life support system.
"The plant came from Vulcan. I do not know who the Vulcan contact is
with the Klingons but this does prove that they do, indeed, have such
a contact."

"I do not recognize the plant tissue," Spock said.

"I do," Sarek said. "It is artificial, carbon-based vegetation,
designed and grown by your associate, Dr. Leonard McCoy, and by Kór
V'Rhsal. The plant was stolen from their laboratory."

"I thought they were doing medical research," Kirk said.

Sarek nodded. "They are. Dr. McCoy and Kór V'Rhsal grew two plant
models of the cerebellum. The first destroyed itself. The second is on
the Klingon scoutship."

"You still haven't told me why it's so dangerous," Kirk said.

"It is the source of the explosion," Sarek said.

Kirk and Spock exchanged a look before Spock said, "The force of the
explosion that caused the damage to the Klingon ship was the
equivalent of force point three megatons."

Sarek nodded thoughtfully. "It is possible."

"Check the scans," Kirk said. Chekov, who had remained silent
throughout the conversation, nodded and pulled a terminal to him.

"Organic, tetravalent-bonded carbon, rudimentary structure. A couple
of steps down on the molecular scale from a simple earth vine.
Length..." he studied the readings. "It extends throughout all decks
and ventways. Minimum - nineteen kilometres. Mass...immeasurable."

"Nineteen kilometres?" Kirk sat forward.

"The exact length is also immeasurable as the plant appears to have
many strands looping and doubling back," Chekov said.

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "It does resemble nerve fibre. There are
equivalent pathways comprising dendrites, axons, even synapses, some
of which measure mere thousandths of a millimetre."

"McCoy and V'Rhsal grew this?" Kirk questioned. "Why?"

"It was smaller when in their laboratory," Sarek said. "It is, or was,
an exact model of a Vulcan cerebellum. They used the plant model
during initial tests with the generator."

"Fascinating," Spock said in a low tone.

"It has taken them two Vulcan years to come to this point in their
research. Their work with the plant tissue also revealed some
intriguing aspects of brain tissue. Our brain cells store energy in
reserve pockets. These pockets are easily breached, must be so in
order to be useful to the brain. The energy contained in the pockets
in a plant model of such a size can be quite potent. Dr. McCoy told me
that most disruptions of the cell walls surrounding the stored energy
did not cause much reaction. He named these pockets...Snarks."

"Snarks?" Chekov repeated. Kirk saw Spock raise a thoughtful eyebrow.

"However, some breaching of the walls had quite disastrous results."

"Meaning, they exploded," Kirk said.

"Yes," said Sarek. "While this is a normal chemical reaction in
compact brain tissue, it is something very different in plant tissue
weighing seven hundred point eight five three kilograms, as it weighed
when they owned it. The potential stored in those tracings was
enormous. Those specific energy pockets that detonated vigorously were
named Boojums. Since the results of breaking a cell wall surrounding
stored energy could not be judged beforehand, the naming of the
pockets Snarks and Boojums is quite descriptive."

Kirk glanced at the visual that had been recorded by the Away Team's
scanners. "It looks like a dead fern, a big dead fern. I find it hard
to believe that it blew out the back of a scoutship."

Sarek continued more quietly. "Dr. McCoy and Kór V'Rhsal understood
how dangerous the plant model was. When they grew the second one, they
kept it in a containment field."

"From where it was stolen," Kirk prompted, noting Sarek's reluctance.

"There were two incidents where sabotage would not be outside the
realm of logical possibility."

"McCoy called me about one," Kirk said. "Over a year ago. He thought
someone had taken a phaser to V'Rhsal's kitchen floor." He caught
Spock and Chekov's sudden looks but ignored them. "I never heard about
a second problem."

Sarek hesitated before replying. "Kór V'Rhsal's flyer and the second
plant model disappeared one evening. Whoever...stole the flyer was
able to circumvent an extensive security system. The precautions he
and Dr. McCoy have had to take since that incident have been
exceptionally elaborate. They destroyed the blueprint and computer
tracings for the plant model. They removed their work from the memory
in V'Rhsal's laboratory computer and stored it on tapes which were
kept, unlabelled, in separate locations but those tapes are
incomplete. The only complete parts of their research left are the
design for the neural generator and the chemical composition of the
vaccine that prevents Khlabar. The ability to recreate their work with
the tracings exists now only in their minds. No written or computer
record is left. It is a...great loss. They had mapped the nerve
impulses in the cerebellum. To follow this impulse alone..." Sarek
touched a forefinger to the tip of his nose. "took them two hundred
and eighty hours. They tracked many impulse paths. The potential
knowledge, the understanding of this organ of which medicine knows so
little...to destroy all that work..." Sarek stopped, obviously
intellectually horrified at the thought.

There was silence at that table. Then, softly, Spock said, "Dr. McCoy
found a vaccine which prevents Khlabar."

"He and Kór V'Rhsal were honoured by the Science Academy this past
month," Sarek said. "Many are receiving the vaccine."

Kirk switched the visual to a view of the scoutship. "Gentlemen, if
you don't mind, I'd like to know what kind of danger that ship is."

Spock consulted his own computer terminal. "If I accept a minimum
length of nineteen kilometres, the potential energy stored is seven to
the tenth power megatons."

"In a plant?" Kirk asked incredulously. "It sounds ludicrous."

"All plants have potentially deadly properties," Sarek said.

Chekov whitened. "Seven to the tenth power megatons," he repeated.
"And we all just tramped through it."

"You encountered Snarks," Sarek said. "There may not be any Boojums
left."

"Or there may be a lot of them," Kirk said. "There's no way of
knowing." He was quiet for a long moment. "Sarek, how much do you know
about this plant?"

"Very little. Dr. McCoy and Kór V'Rhsal were disinclined to release
papers."

"Captain, we cannot allow that ship to drift. In less than a week on
her current course she'll be in the Janneau system," Chekov said.

"Under treaty terms, you must not destroy the Klingon ship without
clear evidence that it is dangerous," Spock commented.

"I can't see myself standing in front of a Starfleet board, holding a
fern as my defense. On the other hand, your power readings are quite
clear," Kirk said.

"We could nudge the ship with a tractor beam and send it towards
Klingon territory," Chekov suggested.

"Is there any way to beam that thing off the scoutship and disperse it
in space?" Kirk asked.

Chekov shook his head. "It is in all the corridors and ducts. However,
being plant tissue, it must need oxygen to survive. The scoutship has
an atmospheric leak."

Spock interrupted, "The secondary hull is braced. The lower decks will
not lose their life support."

"Could we open the primary hull breach into the secondary hull from
here?" Kirk asked.

"It would require a photon torpedo, forbidden under the Organian Peace
treaty," Spock said.

"What about damaging the life support?"

"Only possible from on board the scoutship itself, Captain," Spock
answered.

"You tell me how to do it, and I'll beam over," Kirk said.

"Jim..." Spock started.

"Chekov walked all over it," Kirk started.

"That must mean it likes me. I'll go again," the young man cut in but
was silenced by Kirk's severe look.

"No, Chekov."

"Captain, I know where the life support is. I walked right by it,"
Chekov said. "I can be in and out of there in two minutes."

The captain quieted. Chekov waited, knowing how much Kirk abhorred
sending his people into danger, how difficult it would be for him to
agree to this.

Finally, slowly, Kirk said, "You leave your communicator open. Be done
in one minute because you will be beamed back."

"Yes, sir." Chekov gathered his portable life support system and left
the briefing room.

Spock shut off the terminal and turned to his father. "There have been
many attempts to find a vaccine against Khlabar."

Sarek nodded. "Dr. McCoy postulated that Khlabar disease was a
secondary infection. Dr. McCoy used lung tissue, not blood cells to
make the vaccine."

"How does the neural generator fit into this?" Kirk asked.

"The vaccine does not help those already infected. Kór V'Rhsal
designed a generator that could be surgically implanted at the base of
the cerebellum."

"And the surgery helps?"

Sarek nodded at Kirk. "Those who could not walk, now walk. They are
able to leave the hospital within a few weeks and return to their
homes and their work. They are still affected by Khlabar, but the
generator reduces their symptoms to a manageable level. It is a high
achievement."

Kirk frowned. "If Bones has found a vaccine, if this generator works
so well, I wonder why he's still on Vulcan. He just extended his leave
again."

"I have not been on Vulcan in some time," Sarek said. "In my last
communication, it was noted that Dr. McCoy and Kór V'Rhsal were still
engaged in some research though it is confined to the laboratory in
Kór V'Rhsal's home."

Kirk eyed Sarek suspiciously. "Ambassador, you have met V'Rhsal,
haven't you?"

"We have spoken."

"I mean no offense," Kirk said, "but they call him the Glaciator and
it sure fits. I can't imagine McCoy voluntarily choosing to extend his
leave so long."

"I spent an evening in their company before I left Vulcan," Sarek
said. "They appear highly compatible."

Kirk's face wore such a look that both Sarek and Spock raised
simultaneous eyebrows.

"Gentlemen, you'll never convince me," Kirk said, as they left the
briefing room.

In the turbo lift, Kirk asked, "Sarek, could part of this plant have
been left at the Romulan embassy?

"It is possible. There was much shrubbery there, apparently for
decorative purposes. However, I can pose alternative theories to
account for the explosion."

Kirk led the way onto the bridge and opened the intercom. "Transporter
room, advise me when Commander Chekov is ready to beam over."

While Chekov was on the Klingon ship, Kirk quickly reviewed the
situation for the bridge crew. He saw Sulu, in particular, react
worriedly.

"Seven to the tenth power megatons?" the helmsman echoed. "From a
plant?"

"If Chekov is successful in sabotaging the life support, we'll give
that ship a nudge with a tractor beam and send it towards Klingon
space."

"Plotting that now, Captain," Sulu said.

The intercom whistled. "Mr. Chekov is back aboard, Captain."

"Good." Kirk turned towards the science station. "Spock, I want---"

A sudden booming vibrated throughout the bridge. Uhura was thrown to
the floor past Sarek who hit the side of the command chair.

Kirk wheeled back around. "Status!" he barked.

Sulu checked his readouts. "The scoutship is gone."

"Force one point seven megatons," Spock added. "Debris readings only."

Chekov bounded onto the bridge, eyes wide as he took in the sight on
the viewscreen.

"I'm glad you made it back on board, navigator." Kirk exchanged a grim
look with Sarek. "Well, I guess that takes care of our little
problem."

"No damage reported, Captain," Uhura said.

"How about you?"

She smiled. "Ok."

Kirk unhooked the arms on his command chair and strode to the helm.
"Chekov, plot a course to Vulcan. Sulu, give me an E.T.A."

Sulu did a quick calculation. "Nine days at warp six."

"Confirmed," Chekov said.

"Lay in and engage." Kirk walked to communications. "Uhura, please
send a message to McCoy on Vulcan. You can reach him through the
Shi'Kaver Teaching Hospital in the capital city. Advise him his leave
has been cancelled and we'll be there to pick him up stardate 6974.2."

"Right away, sir."

Kirk walked the circular path onto the science station, where Spock
and his father were studying scanner readouts. "Since McCoy created
that plant, I'm going to need him. With all respect to Vulcan, he's
more useful here."

"Understood," Sarek said.

"Spock, you have the con. I'll be in my quarters." Kirk strode into
the turbo lift.

---

Kirk glanced around them as he and Spock walked down the long, gray
corridor. "So this is the hospital that Bones has been working at.
What a depressing place to beam down to."

"At least you did not get sand in your eyes this time," Spock said.

"I'd prefer the sand. Don't you people like colour, decoration,
something to look at?"

"There are wall murals in the children's ward, for therapeutic
reasons," Spock said. He opened a glass-plate door. "This way, Jim."

They passed several elderly Vulcans sitting on gray chairs in the
hallway. They nodded at Kirk as he passed. A frail, little lady said,
"Afternoon, Human."

She spoke in Standard, though her accent was thick. Kirk, startled,
braked.

"Good afternoon to you, madam."

He looked over at Spock but he seemed as surprised as Kirk.

"Tell me, do you know a Dr. McCoy?" Kirk asked her.

She nodded. "Healer Makkoy. Yes, I know him. He performed my surgery."

As they continued down the hall, Spock said, "Fascinating."

"What do you mean?"

Spock flicked a slight glance at the lady behind them. "I
suppose...out of respect...she has taken time to learn some standard."

"Respect...or gratitude?"

Spock frowned slightly. "Gratitude is an emotion."

Kirk smiled slightly. "Sorry. I forgot."

They stopped by the nurse's station. To the vulcan behind the counter,
Kirk said, "I am looking for a healer, McCoy. I was told he was here."

In halting standard, the nurse said, "Healer Makkoy is expected back.
His partner, Kór V'Rhsal, is there." He indicated a room behind Kirk.

"Thank you."

As they neared the door, Kirk said, "Tell me, Spock, what does Kór
mean?"

"It is a masculine form of address. The feminine is En'."

"Should I use it?"

Spock regarded Kirk impassively. "Only if you can pronounce it
correctly, which you have twice failed to do."

Kirk scowled as he pushed open the door.

They entered a patient lounge, empty except for a elderly man and
V'Rhsal who were in two far chairs. V'Rhsal looked up at their
arrival, nodded, then resumed his conversation with the elderly man.
Spock stood a polite distance away, silent. Kirk followed suit. It was
a long wait as Kirk's grasp of Vulcan was sketchy and the two vulcans
apparently felt no compulsion to wrap up their conversation. After
what seemed like a very long time, V'Rhsal finally looked over at them
and said, in Standard, "Captain Kirk, Captain Spock. Leonard is now
coming down the hall."

Kirk opened his mouth to ask him how he knew but V'Rhsal had already
resumed his discussion with the elderly man. The door behind the
Captain opened and McCoy walked in. The doctor broke into a wide grin.

"Jim, Spock, what you been doing the last two years?"

"Over two years," Kirk said. "Didn't they teach you how to count
here?"

McCoy grinned again. "Sorry, Jim. Two years, two months, five point
nine eight seven six five four three two one and a half days. How have
you been?"

"Oh fine. We've just been booting around the galaxy, having a ball,
you know us," Kirk managed casually, though he was rather struck by
the doctor's appearance. McCoy was heavily bearded and the beard was
mostly gray. There were a few more lines around the deep blue eyes;
the forehead had another furrow. Yet he seemed happier than the man
Kirk had known before.

"You look well, doctor," Spock said after close scrutiny.

"Oddly enough after all this heat, eh?" McCoy glanced at Kirk. In mock
annoyance, he added, "I assume you have a good reason for cancelling
my leave so abruptly. If you just give me a few minutes, you can tell
me. Have a seat."

McCoy walked over to the elderly man and V'Rhsal. Then, in effortless
Vulcan, started talking softly with them.

As they sat at the far end of the room, Kirk whispered, "Who was
that?"

"It has been over two years, Jim."

Kirk saw McCoy pull out a scanner. The elderly man leant forward and
McCoy gently felt the back of the vulcan's neck.

"Interesting," Spock said.

"What is?"

"My father mentioned that Dr. McCoy implanted the generator behind the
cerebellum, in the neck."

Finally McCoy and V'Rhsal came over to them. To Kirk's surprise, the
delicate-looking male stood and walked easily and quickly out the
door.

McCoy sat down, his expression growing serious. "Ok, Jim. What's going
on?"

"Are you missing a plant, Bones?"

McCoy frowned, puzzled. He and V'Rhsal exchanged a look and, a moment
later, his expression cleared. "That plant."

"We found it."

"What do you mean, found it?" McCoy asked, looking alarmed. "It's not
on board the ship, is it?"

"No, only the Klingons were dumb enough to do that," Kirk said. "It's
a great weapon, Bones. Blends right into the decor. We think it may be
responsible for taking out the Romulan embassy on Allát."

McCoy shook his head. "We discovered its explosive qualities in quite
a lovely fashion ourselves." He turned to V'Rhsal. "I'm sure glad I'm
not going to be around when your wife sees the state of the house."

V'Rhsal's expression did not change, as far as Kirk could see. McCoy,
however, seemed to receive some acknowledgment from the Vulcan before
he glanced back to Kirk.

"Do the Klingons still have it?"

"A lot of it has blown up," Kirk said. "Sarek's worried that the
Klingons may still have enough to grow more."

"It does seem to grow all on its own," McCoy commented. "Is this why
you've called me back?"

"That and the fact that we still can't get your brandy cupboard open."
Kirk eyed the doctor. "Bones, I am sorry but I have to pull you out of
here."

"It's all right. I was hoping to isolate the Khlabar virus but a
physician I met, Soltar, has my notes and he's going to continue."

V'Rhsal finally spoke. "Is it known how the Klingons acquired the
plant?"

Kirk shook his head. "That's classified information. Sorry."

McCoy stood. "V'Rhsal, I've still got a few things at the house. Can I
leave them there for a bit?"

"Certainly, Leonard."

McCoy scratched at his beard, then smiled. "I guess this is still
non-regulation."

"I'll get out the hedge-clippers." Kirk rose as well. "Bones, we can
beam up outside."

McCoy glanced once more at V'Rhsal, then turned to Kirk. "Jim, I have
to leave a couple of messages with my partner here. Could I meet you
in the parking lot in, say, ten minutes?"

When he and Spock were down the hall, Kirk said, "I thought I'd find
Bones in a more aggravated state. I thought Vulcans drove him crazy."

"Where did you ever form that impression?" Spock asked blandly.

"I really don't know." Kirk blinked in the sunlight as they walked
outside. "Spock, did anything strike you as odd with McCoy and
V'Rhsal?"

"No, Jim. Why do you ask?" Spock prompted.

Kirk shrugged. "It was nothing definite. Never mind."

---

McCoy met V'Rhsal's deep, black eyes.

it's now or never, i guess.

V'Rhsal's expression softened.

i sense an emotion. regret?

McCoy snorted.

hardly. i'm glad to get off this oven of a planet.

leonard, i have a feeling.

you what? i need to sit down.

leonard, you once asked me what i wanted. i was unable to answer you
as i did not understand the concept.

and now?

such as it is hard to admit to you, it is harder to admit it to
myself. i feel that we should not end the meld at this time. my logic
is unable to make a determination of the reason.

v'rhsal, i feel like i'm standing at the edge of something, looking
down somewhere that i never wanted to look before. i know this doesn't
make sense.

McCoy glanced down, away from the black eyes.

i have spent a lot of my life alone, v'rhsal. i admit i really
resisted the meld, especially when i found out it was more than a
meld. but i've become accustomed to you. if we end the meld, then i go
back to being alone but this time i will know just how alone that is.
this is such a selfish attitude that i can't believe i'm telling you.

we could remain as we are for a little while longer. i have
become...accustomed to you as well.

V'Rhsal held up a hand with two fingers extended. After a moment,
McCoy managed an awkward approximation of the gesture. The Vulcan
touched his hand to the doctor's.

i will seek thee.

A noise came from the hall. McCoy pulled away and stood. "I had better
get going."

When he got to the door, V'Rhsal said, "Keep in touch, Leonard."

"How can i avoid it?" McCoy grumbled as he shut the door behind him.

---

Spock could hear McCoy's voice from sickbay as soon as the turbo lift
opened. Entering sickbay, he saw evidence of the doctor immediately.
Two stacks of tapes balanced precariously in McCoy's in-tray on his
desk.

"There you are," McCoy entered the room, adjusting a hypo. "I was
wondering if you'd care to have the vaccine against Khlabar. I got
your father just before he beamed down to the Vulcan embassy."

"And is he still alive?"

McCoy smirked. "I don't know. I guess you'll just have to take the
risk, Vulcan."

Spock rolled up a sleeve. McCoy shook his head.

"Sorry. Lower the pants. It's intramuscular."

"Intramuscular? How archaic."

"I am just an old-fashioned country doctor. Come on, bend over."

Spock hesitated, then, slowly, unfastened his pants and bent over a
table. The hypo sounded concurrently with the sound of a door opening.
Spock, maintaining a carefully neutral expression, raised his pants
and turned around. Christine Chapel stood in the doorway, arms crossed
over her chest and head inclined slightly as she regarded the scene
before her.

"You may get a slight fever over the next day," McCoy said, as he
emptied the hypo vial into the medical disposal chute. "Take a couple
of aspirin for it."

"I suppose we all have our personal preferences, Mr. Spock," Chapel
said amusedly, "but the other Vulcans on board received their
injections in the arm."

McCoy beat a retreat into the lab as Spock wheeled around. Christine
caught a glimpse of something in the Vulcan eyes, but it was gone
before she could get a fix on it.

"I don't think I want to get in the middle of this one," she said,
smiling, as she took off into the other room. Spock waited until the
door has closed before taking a seat at McCoy's desk. Silently, he
contemplated the stack of tapes in the tray.

---

McCoy, on his own initiative, avoided Spock for the rest of the day.
He took a walk through the ship, starting with the lower decks. He
noticed the ship's noises now, having been so long away from them. She
vibrated with just the softest shiver before changing warp speed. She
sighed when coming out of warp. The engines purred in the lowest deck,
hummed in the highest. There was a difference in the smell of the air
as it recycled in cool wafts from the vents.

He reported to the briefing room at the end of day watch, where Kirk,
Spock, Sulu and someone he didn't recognize waited. The unknown was a
dark-haired woman, stocky and tall and wearing the medical blue. She
shook his hand warmly before taking a seat by the computer terminal.

McCoy took a seat, eyeing her cautiously. "Have we met?"

"Briefly, just before you took leave, sir," she said. "I'm Dr. Tyne
Misu. I heard about your success on Vulcan and of your receiving the
Vulcan Science Accolade. Congratulations."

"Thanks," he said quickly, then changed the subject. "Are you one of
the counsellors, Doctor?"

"I'm a chemist. I've been working back and forth between your
department and Captain Spock's." She smiled. "My latest project has
been your plant."

"It's hardly my plant," McCoy corrected her in a quiet tone. "It's
just a bit of organic plant tissue."

"A bit of organic plant tissue over nineteen kilometres long," Tyne
said. "Hardly your average ground cover."

"See what you can do with a little water and few seeds?" McCoy turned
to Kirk. "Is this what the briefing is about? The plant?"

Kirk nodded. "We're on our way back to the Neutral Zone. The Romulans
are stirred up over the thought that the Klingons have some kind of
new weapon being supplied to them by a Vulcan. They're edgy. The
Klingons are gloating. And the only hint of any weaponry I've found so
far is this lovely little flower from your garden. I need to know more
about what it is before I can determine if it's actually the weapon
the Klingons are using."

McCoy uncharacteristically silenced.

"Bones..." Kirk prodded.

McCoy finally looked up. "Jim, you told me that it blew up a Klingon
scoutship. How do you know that?"

"We recorded the event on our scanners," Spock said.

"But, how do you know that it caused the explosion?" McCoy persisted.

Kirk frowned. "Bones, Chekov led an Away Team. He was on the
scoutship. He waded right through it."

"I spoke to Pavel this morning," McCoy started.

"We didn't lose any men," Kirk said.

"Then how do you know it was the plant? Many things can potentially
explode on a ship," McCoy said.

"That was my opinion in my report," Tyne said softly. "Captain, it is
impossible for organic plant tissue of that rudimentary molecular
structure to contain energy of such magnitude. It simply could not
store it."

"I went over every bit of information in our scanner recordings, both
from the ship and from Pavel's Away Team," Sulu spoke up. "I know
there was no reason for that ship to explode the way it did. All of
it's systems were functioning well. Damage was contained by internal
safety systems. She should have just drifted until pulled into a
magnetic field."

"Are you a botanist?" Tyne asked him.

"I know enough about botany to know that plant tissue cell structure
could have the qualities that Ambassador Sarek described," Sulu said.

"As you see, Bones, we're a house divided," Kirk cut in, forestalling
further argument. "I need information. Starfleet's waiting on my
report."

"I'm afraid I won't be much help," McCoy said. "V'Rhsal and I grew an
uncomplicated molecular chain. We kept it in the house"

"It would settle the question, Dr. McCoy," Spock said, "If you would
reproduce the blueprint that you used as the basis for the plant
model."

"I can't do that," McCoy said. "The tracings filled six computer
tapes."

"Don't you have the tapes?" Sulu said.

"No," the doctor replied. "The tapes were destroyed."

"Don't you have any notes at all left of that part of your research?"
Sulu asked. "Your work with the plant was obviously a major part of
the investigation."

McCoy shook his head firmly. "Sorry, Sulu."

"Please don't take this the wrong way but I'm at a loss to know what
good this meeting with you is accomplishing," Tyne said. "I don't
believe organic plant tissue is capable of such destruction. Commander
Sulu thinks it can. We were hoping you could provide some proof one
way or another, Doctor."

"We could set up a scan on my cerebellum," Spock said, "and use that
as a new blueprint."

"It wouldn't be possible to get an exact duplication with our organic
fabricators," McCoy replied quietly. "The conditions for growth
existed on Vulcan. Besides, if you think that the plant destroyed an
entire scoutship, then someone somewhere changed something in it. What
V'Rhsal and I had just wouldn't have done that."

Kirk sighed tiredly. "Gentlemen, we're arguing without data. I move to
close this meeting."

Chairs scraped as Sulu and Tyne exited. Spock, however, remained
sitting.

Kirk exchanged a look with McCoy, who was at the door, before saying,
"What is it, Spock?"

"We are overlooking an obvious source of information, Jim. I regret
that it did not occur to me earlier."

"Explain."

"Kór V'Rhsal, himself." Spock looked over to the doctor. "What was the
strength of the containment field he designed?"

McCoy scowled. "I don't know."

"An intense field would not have been any more difficult for him to
construct than a weaker one," Spock said.

"But he kept it in the house," McCoy said.

"If the containment field was sufficient, it would not matter where
the plant was kept." Spock regarded McCoy for a long time. "You could
ask him."

Kirk nodded. "Simple enough. Uhura could send a message through."

"It would be much faster," Spock repeated softly to McCoy, "if you
could ask him."

McCoy hesitated for a fraction too long, causing Kirk to eye him
curiously. Finally the doctor said, "Spock, the research is ended. The
partnership is effectively over."

Kirk cut in. "McCoy, are you withholding information?"

"For Heaven's sake, Jim," the doctor retorted. "Call V'Rhsal. I'll
give you the com code."

After McCoy left, Kirk eyed Spock suspiciously. "What was that all
about?"

Spock managed a bland look. "Jim?"

Kirk outstared him. In a deceptively gentle voice, the Captain asked,
"Is he holding something back?"

"I believe he told us everything he knew about the plant model."

Kirk mulled that comment over as they returned to the bridge. Spock,
characteristically, changed the subject. "I admit I do not see how the
molecular chain the doctor used could store and release energy in such
a destructive fashion, however, I read the energy levels from the scan
myself."

The turbo lift doors opened. Spock took his place at the science
station. The Captain stopped by Uhura's board. "Lieutenant, prepare to
open a call to Vulcan, please. It'll be a private com number."

"I will have to go through Vulcan Central," she said.

Kirk nodded as he plunked himself down in his chair.

---

McCoy lay on his bunk, eyes closed. The room was dim and smelled of
attic dust, despite the recirculation. No one had used his cabin while
he was on leave and, while there was technically no dust in space,
there sure was something that lay thick on everything, including the
bed covers and pillow.

The smell of the dust dissipated. Suddenly his nostrils were overcome
with the fierce red sand that he'd watched blow over the deserts for
two years. He could no longer hear the drone of in-ship
communications.

He was quiet for a long time. Then, slowly, a soft smile spread across
his face.

He rose, wiping his eyes, and switched on the intercom.

"McCoy to bridge."

"Bridge. Uhura here, doctor."

"I've got a com-code for you. Jim wanted it."

"For Vulcan?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's uh...port central seven, line nine two four six nine."

He shut off the intercom and spent a few minutes looking at the
familiar things around his room before getting up and going out the
door.

Uhura turned from her board. "I have the call placed, Captain. It is a
private residence."

"Put it on."

The viewscreen wavered, then steadied. Kirk recognized the underground
lab from V'Rhsal's home. The Vulcan himself was seated at a table, his
expression strikingly severe.

"Captain Kirk," he said in acknowledgment.

"Sir, I am sorry to disturb you," Kirk said, "but I've got a couple of
concerns about..."

"Yes, I know," he interrupted.

"I would be grateful if you could tell me of any theories you might
have," Kirk said impassively.

"I do not have enough data to formulate a theory," the Vulcan said.

"I understand that whoever stole it got past a rather extensive
security system."

The Vulcan nodded.

Kirk waited but when V'Rhsal seemed disinclined to say anything more,
he glanced at Spock.

Spock came down to stand beside the command chair. "Kór V'Rhsal, the
Klingons hope to use the plant as a weapon."

"Curious," V'Rhsal said. "It would not be strong enough. It's
unpredictability alone should deter from that kind of use."

"It could be handled if it was kept under a containment field," Spock
said. "What was the strength of the containment field you designed?"

"Point five megaton coverage."

Spock frowned. "That would be insufficient for the plant we found on a
Klingon ship."

"I did not have nineteen kilometres of it in my basement, Kór Spock,"
V'Rhsal pointed out.

Kirk frowned. "Would nineteen kilometres of it be enough to cause such
damage to a space ship, roughly thirteen hundred tons, supporting warp
speed and a crew of twelve?"

V'Rhsal thought for a moment. "No. A molecular structure must have
been changed in it. However, I do not see that it has much potential
as a weapon, at any size."

"Why not?" Kirk asked.

V'Rhsal blinked. "A plant, Captain?"

"Who'd notice one more bush in a pile of bushes?" Kirk asked. "Our
scanners wouldn't be able to detect one particular leaf from another
in a pile of organic matter. Furthermore, when it blows, it doesn't
seem to leave much behind."

V'Rhsal was silent for a few moments before continuing. "Captain, I am
sure your engineer can design any sort of a containment field you
might require for defensive purposes. If there is nothing further..."

"There is something further," Kirk said. "The Romulans think that
Vulcan is supplying the Klingons with a weapon. They don't know it's a
stolen plant. They probably wouldn't believe such a story. In their
shoes, I wouldn't give it much credit myself. But what they will
believe is that we've broken our part of a very shaky peace treaty. I
need all information you can give me."

The turbo lift doors opened. Kirk turned to find McCoy leaning against
the rail. V'Rhsal's gaze flicked behind Kirk for a bare second.

"Captain, where is your ship headed?"

"Toward the neutral zone."

"This is of some urgency." V'Rhsal was quiet for a few moments more,
then said, "The neural field generator that Leonard and I used
detonates all pockets of energy in the plant tissue of a particular
chemical make-up. I realize, though, that you would not wish to do so
if you were too near the plant. Detonating the pockets of energy while
it was still on a Klingon ship would be the alternative and would be a
less destructive option as the pockets could be breached one at a time
rather than all at once. If I am given a scan of a ship's deflector
shield's wavelength, I could design the generator's frequency to
penetrate the shield. I still find it quite irrational, however, that
an intelligent race would even consider using a plant as a weapon."

"I think we all do," Kirk admitted. He heard McCoy snort behind him.

"Captain, I assume you scanned the Klingon ship before it was
destroyed," V'Rhsal said.

"Yes, we got some readings," Kirk answered.

"Is the information classified?"

"I'll send you what I can."

V'Rhsal nodded, then ended the transmission.

Kirk turned to Spock. "Please prepare an information transmission for
him. 'Need-to-know' only."

The Vulcan returned to his station. Kirk breathed out and rubbed his
forehead painfully.

"Headache?" inquired McCoy from his position against the rail.

"Not yet, but I'm expecting one anytime now." He glanced at the
doctor. "Our next job - convincing the Romulans that their embassy was
blown apart by a geranium." ---

McCoy found himself shaking hands with a skeleton, the yellow, bony
fingers cold in his palm. The teeth grinned fiendishly as the skeleton
motioned him forward.

The room was very dark. A single candle flickered their moving shadows
on the walls.

He knew he was dreaming. Strangely, he knew he was in his bed, in his
cabin, and still he followed this dream through with a feverish mind.

The skeleton stopped by a heavy, velvet curtain which swayed slowly.
It was only then that McCoy noticed the strings on the yellow bones,
marionette strings that rose up and disappeared into the black of a
high ceiling. The skeleton stepped aside. McCoy understood that he was
to open the curtains but he felt a heavy reluctance to do so.

He shook his head. Hard bones gripped his elbow, pulling him forward.

"No," he said softly.

Again the tub on his elbow. He pulled at the marionette string, trying
to release the grip. When that didn't work, he turned his back to the
curtain.

"I'm not looking," he said. "There are some things I don't want to
see."

A piano started up. Someone was playing an old-style rag tune and
off-key voices joined in with a chorus of a bawdy pub song.

Beyond the candle's uneasy light, he could see glimpses of
half-dressed skeleton women in the embrace of drunken skeleton men.
The men looked eerily depraved, bony fingers clutching the women's
ribs, sneaking under the bodices and cracked corsets. Dusty wigs sat
on the skulls of the women and big, black mustaches were fixed in the
nose sockets of the men.

"Remember this one, doctor?" asked one of the women and they all
started another dirty song.

One of the men put a glass in his hand, filled with a liquid that
looked like blue ink.

"This is weird," McCoy muttered. He set the glass on the piano. The
drink bubbled at him, then hopped away into the gloom.

A large wolf was playing the piano, its huge jaws drooling spittle
onto the keyboard. A caterpillar was jumping from key to key, trying
to wipe up the spit.

"It's not good for the ivory, you know," the caterpillar told McCoy.

"When I play rag, you need a rag," the wolf said.

McCoy rubbed his eyes, then turned to the skeleton nearest him. "Did I
drink anything before I went to bed tonight? Do you remember?"

"A little brandy," the skeleton answered, its bones clicking as it
shrugged.

"Must have been a bad batch," McCoy said.

A woman skeleton leaned near him, her wig nearly sliding off her
skull. "Did you know that there is a nurse shark under the table?"

"Couldn't hold her liquor," the wolf slobbered.

McCoy glanced around the room. "Please don't think I'm rude but just
who the hell are all you people?"

A man grinned. "Don't ya know, doc? We're all the ones that died on
your table."

"Now let's not get overly-dramatic," the wolf said.

"All the ones who died?" McCoy repeated.

A woman skeleton caressed his arm. "Oh, you know. If only you'd been a
little quicker...if only you'd studied that textbook a little
more...if only you hadn't waited so long to operate...."

"Give the man a break," said the caterpillar. "He's only human."

The wolf sniffed. "I smell a little Vulcan in there too."

"That's right. I forgot," the caterpillar said. "You went and got
hitched."

"No, I---" McCoy started but then he noticed a rope between his ankle
and a leg of the piano.

"You are hitched," the woman said.

"I am not," McCoy untied the rope.

"You slept with him. It's been consummated," the caterpillar said.

"We sometimes slept beside each other," McCoy tossed the rope away,
"so that I wouldn't dream stupid dreams...like this one."

"I resent that," said the wolf.

The caterpillar jumped on top of the piano. "You slept with him too!"

"Oh shut up," McCoy said wearily, untying another rope from his foot.
"As far as I'm concerned, you're all just a swig of bad booze."

"It felt good, didn't it?" the caterpillar persisted.

"You're awfully dirty-minded," said the wolf.

"I agree," McCoy grumbled, working at a third rope.

"Of course you could say that you don't really know how it felt
because it was over so fast," the caterpillar mused. "Didn't your wife
used to complain about the very same thing?"

The wolf laid a heavy paw on him. "Listen you little two-inch string,
you're talking about my old friend Lenny here."

"Enough's enough," McCoy said as a fourth rope appeared. "I want to
wake up now."

"I was just going to play another tune," the wolf said as the room
started to fade. He called out, "We'll be seeing you again, Lenny.
When you wake up, you'll have a little something to remember us by!"

"You mean a big something!" the caterpillar giggled.

McCoy opened his eyes to the sight of his gray cabin ceiling and the
feeling that he could use a very cold shower.

He sat up slowly, feeling the sweat down his back.

"Good Lord....I hope I'm not sharing this with you, V'Rhsal," he
muttered.

He undressed and ran the cold sonic. The chronometer read early
morning, still hours away from his shift. He debated starting early,
then put on a set of coveralls and headed for the recreation deck.

There was an enclosed court behind the open area of the gymnasium.
McCoy got a racquet and a ball and set up a slow volley against the
wall. The ball smacked loudly in the early-morning stillness. McCoy
threw more weight into his swing and the ball turned into a blue blur
that zoomed past him. Retrieving it, he started with a series of fast,
hard drives, holding nothing back until his palm grew sweaty on the
racquet's grip and the ball was a stinging rush of air.

Finally he missed. He bent over, catching his breath, while the ball
lost momentum and rolled to a stop by his feet.

"You're not half-bad," came a voice, startling him.

Tyne Misu stood in the doorway, wearing shorts, her long hair tied up.

"You're an early riser," he panted.

"Can I join in? I brought my own racquet."

He shrugged. "As long as you remember that you're playing against an
old man."

She made a face. "After spending two years in Vulcan's higher gravity,
you should be quite agile here."

Nevertheless, she did send the ball his way gently. After a few casual
volleys, she said, "I hope you weren't offended by my last comment in
the briefing."

McCoy returned the ball a little harder, speeding up the game. "What
comment?"

"When I said the briefing was getting us nowhere."

"I warned you I wouldn't be much help," he said, amused.

Her hair swung as she backhanded the ball. "I've gotten in trouble
with my mouth in the past."

"Really?" he asked blandly.

She grinned. "Once or twice. I have this problem of saying what's on
my mind without thinking about the consequences."

"If you can't insult people, just what the hell kind of fun can you
have anyway?"

"I have to admit, though, I truly do admire your mind."

"Such a naive young woman," McCoy said. "You ought to get out into the
universe more."

"I think you deliberately act like you're not very smart."

"It's hardly deliberate." He made her work a little harder to return
the ball, hoping it would quiet her.

"I've read many of your papers. I pushed for the Enterprise but," she
paused to smack the ball, "you weren't here."

McCoy forced her to the far wall in order to return the volley.

"I'm interested in this plant of yours."

He drove the ball harder. "It's not my plant."

"It's half yours." She ran for the ball. "It's incredible the way it
stores energy."

""I thought you didn't believe it could do that." McCoy forced her to
the far wall.

"The atomic connections you designed must be fantastic."

"And now flattery," he mused and hit the ball hard.

She scowled briefly. "Curiosity. Do you know how many scientists have
tried to replicate parts of the brain? You not only managed to do so,
but did it with such a simple molecular soup. You just grew it. You
just sat back and let it grow! A truly organic, working model."

"Sometimes I had to get up to water it."

"But think of the possibilities for knowledge! The doors it opened
up!"

"The scoutships it blew."

"We don't know that." She was starting to pant now.

The meld with V'Rhsal had heightened his senses. He could hear the
ball coming, see its trajectory. The time he'd spent in Vulcan's
gravity did make this atmosphere a little easier. He considered
briefly, then gave in and sent her running back and forth over the
court, enjoying her deepening frown as she was forced more and more
into a defensive posture.

She started hitting the ball with all her weight. He backhanded the
next few effortlessly, sending her once behind him, then across the
length of the court for the next. The thunk-smack of the ball on the
racquets and the wall grew louder, drowning out her half-gasped words.

Finally he just drove it past her. She felt rather than saw the
whizzing by her head. She turned and took the rebound in a leg before
the ball rolled innocently into a corner.

"Old man nothing!" she managed.

McCoy walked over. "Sit down. Let's see."

There was no playful banter now. It was the voice of the physician.
She sat down and extended her leg. She winced as he gently touched her
thigh.

"Hurt?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's going to be a lovely bruise."

"But nothing's broken." He sat back on his heels. "Sorry about that."

"Take it easy, I'm old! My foot!" she said, smiling.

"The Vulcans have a similar version of this. They call it Ito-fër.
Uses two balls at the same time. V'Rhsal and I used to play a few
rounds every once in a while."

"You're part-hustler," she said as he helped her up.

"I think I missed my calling."

He picked up the ball and sent it back lazily against the wall. She
watched him for a few moments, then said, "Have you thought of a way
that the plant could be grown in this environment?"

"No."

"But if you used an earth-type molecular chain---" she started but he
interrupted.

"If it can blow out a scoutship, I hardly think it's something the
Captain would want on board."

"We could keep it contained."

"We?"

"I could help you."

"It not so simple as getting some soil and a few seeds. It took two
weeks to get the blueprint alone. Then you have to design an atomic
arrangement suited to that blueprint."

"We could do it," she persisted softly.

McCoy had a sudden memory of waking up to find the plant in bed with
him. "No, we couldn't."

"You had a working model of the cerebellum. Do you realize how amazing
that is?"

McCoy let the ball go past him. "And I thought you were just here to
admire my racquetball playing."

"And your mind. Don't forget."

He retrieved the ball and left the court. She followed slowly.

"Doctor, I do wish to learn from you. That's why I wanted to be on
this ship. Some of your work's almost required reading at the
academy."

"Almost?" he asked, trying not to smile.

"It's noted in a bibliography in a textbook."

He returned the equipment to the stored. "All right. I'll discuss
amino acids with you to your heart's content."

"Tonight then," she said. "I'll bring a little supper tray to your
cabin and we---"

"How about in my office?"

She shook her head. "I notice you get interrupted a lot in your
sickbay. When they know you're there, they come looking for you."

McCoy studied her but her face looked entirely innocent. "How about
your cabin then?"

"My roommate is afraid of men." Tyne deposited her racquet in the
stores as well. "At shift's end then?"

"Fine."

"See you then." She walked away, still looking innocent.

---

Tyne showed up promptly at sixteen hundred, bearing a tray with two
huge salads and a decanter.

"I checked your diet card. Are you a vegetarian?" she asked.

"Only temporarily," he said, sitting at his desk.

She pulled up a chair across from him. "Is this all right?"

"It's fine. Thank you."

She poured him a glass from the decanter, a dark, red-coloured liquid.

He sniffed tentatively. "What's this?"

"Bordeaux. It's from my family table."

"Is it real?"

"As close as possible. We are millions of miles from France."

He took a cautious sip, then said, "It is good. How's your leg?"

"Sore as hell."

"Ask Christine for a couple of aspirin."

She frowned. "With all your education, is that the best you can do?"

He poured some dressing on his lettuce. "Get someone to rub it."

She laughed. "Is that an offer?"

McCoy glanced up, his face unreadable. "Don't you have a boyfriend?
He'd do it for free whereas I'd bill."

She popped a piece of carrot in her mouth. "It's impossible to enjoy a
boyfriend with a roommate like mine."

"And she NEVER leaves the cabin?" McCoy asked. "Just who is your
roommate anyway?"

"Miss Frigid Virgin of the North and I have that typical french
nature."

"It must be difficult for the two of you to find some common ground."

She leant forward, her eyes intent on his. "What kind of nature do you
have?"

"Unless we're back at the old shack by the potato patch, with a ring
on your finger and two goats as dowry, it's no go."

Tyne shrugged. "And I was hoping to seduce you."

At his snort, she added, "How do you think I got through the Academy
anyway?"

"By drinking milk and studying hard?"

She broke up at his serious expression. "Well, that too. But I really
am here to ask you about amino acids."

"Finally," he said.

"During my last year, I read a paper you published on the twelve
non-essential amino acids and how they are the same twelve in every
humanoid species despite vast differences in ecological conditions."
She refilled his glass, then dug into her salad. "That paper excited
me. I knew about the different types of humanoids in the Federation
but I'd only studied the differences, not the similarities. The
Academy library is huge but it had very little on this."

"Xeno-chemistry is rather new as a separate study," McCoy said.
"However, I'm more generally trained. I'm not a chemist. There's
nothing I could tell you that you couldn't find in the ship's
resources."

"I've studied those tapes. I've got all the findings, all the reports,
but I don't have the theories, the half-made, intuitive conclusions
that a scientist would hesitate to put on record." She swallowed a
mouthful of salad. "There's got to be a lot you never wrote down."

McCoy shook his head. "Flattery again, young woman. I don't fall for
that."

"Are we at least agreed that wondering is the first step towards
knowledge?"

He nodded.

"And I do have some questions. I wrote them down." She pulled a tape
out of her pocket. "I'd love a chance to pick your brain. I've already
pulled poor Spock's all to pieces."

"Now THAT I would have loved to have seen," he said.

Tyne tapped the decanter. "And if getting you drunk is the only way I
can get anything out of you, then, I'm not above it."

"And I'm certainly not above getting drunk," he said and held out his
glass. "Fill her up."

Half a decanter later, McCoy was beginning to think that getting drunk
wasn't such a good idea. While their conversation seemed professional
enough, she prefaced her questions by giggles. By the end of the
decanter, he was freely rubbing the bruise on her thigh and they'd
somehow wandered away from amino acids to the subject of the making of
good homemade wine.

Tyne was drunker than he was. He set her glass away from her and
asked, "If this is from your family table, why can't you handle it
better?"

"Maybe I should have eaten more," she said, glancing at her half-full
plate. She pulled her chair closer and laid her other leg across his
lap. "How about the one that's not hurting, doctor?"

He shrugged and started rubbing. After a few minutes, she said, "Let's
be blunt here, Leonard. I wouldn't mind at all if you worked your way
up a bit."

"Hold it now. I have yet to see that goat dowry."

"Why don't we go to bed? I admire your mind."

"You can't admire someone's mind in bed."

"Yes you can. It's the positioning."

"Tyne, do you know how old I am?"

"You talk like you're a hundred and fifty." She sat forward until her
breasts were pressed against his arm. "Tell me what you like about
me."

"Besides your modesty?" he rebutted. The truth was he felt nothing,
not a thing, not a hint.

She pulled him closer and kissed him. Her mouth tasted sweet, like
wine and tomatoes, and still he felt absolutely no desire.

"Tyne," he moved her legs off his lap. "Forgive me."

She looked into his eyes and blinked. "Leonard, are you cheating on
someone?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation, his answer a surprise to him as
well.

She shrugged. "Can we get together tomorrow night, purely for
scientific reasons?"

"Certainly but keep to your own side of the table."

She smiled, then stood, looking a bit wobbly.

"Can you get to your cabin?" he asked.

"Can I what? The idea!" Tyne frowned. "Leonard, I've been drinking
that stuff since I was three."

And so saying, she promptly passed out on his floor.

---

Kirk entered sickbay. Christine Chapel glanced up from her desk and
smiled. "He's in his office."

Kirk found himself smiling back at her easy warmth. "How do you know
who I want?"

"Easy. Except for your physicals and the evening you tried to break
into the brandy cabinet, we haven't seen you in here for two years,"
she said before returning to her work.

Kirk paused outside McCoy's office, hearing a higher-pitched voice
coming from inside. He hesitated, then decided that if Bones had a
patient, Christine surely would have said so.

He buzzed and the door opened. McCoy was sitting at his desk,
surrounded by tapes and across from him, Dr. Tyne Misu was perched on
a high stool, holding a lap-top portable from the lab.

"Am I interrupting?" Kirk asked.

"Please do," McCoy said. "This woman has me trying to remember my
high-school chemistry and it isn't easy."

Tyne set the lap-top on McCoy's desk. "Leonard and I are setting up a
little project involving amino acids."

"Amino acids," Kirk repeated slowly. "They don't have anything to do
with say...plants?"

McCoy snickered as he poured a coffee for the Captain.

Tyne looked between McCoy and the Captain, then rose. "Len, I think
I'll check on our crystals in the lab."

After she left, McCoy said. "How's your headache?"

"We'll know day after tomorrow." The Captain yawned and McCoy shook
his head.

"You'd better get some decent sleep before then. You haven't been
skipping meals, have you?"

"Doctor," Kirk said warningly.

"How's it been around here for the last two years anyway? I feel out
of touch."

"If it hadn't been for your plant, it would have been one long, lovely
patrol."

"Come on, Jim. You hate being bored."

"We escorted diplomats back and forth over the same two inches of
space. I suppose all you did was work and learn to speak Vulcan."

"And damn near sprained my tongue doing so." McCoy took a drink of his
coffee. "And, yes, we mainly worked."

Kirk paused. He still couldn't put a finger on the difference in the
doctor. "I was surprised when you kept extending your leave. I didn't
think Vulcan was your favourite place."

"It was hard at first," the doctor admitted. "Most of the Vulcans I
met had never seen a human before. They tended to refrain from even
looking at me."

"And V'Rhsal seems like a particularly cold character."

"Is he?" McCoy looked up. "I hadn't noticed." He cleared a few tapes
off his desk so that Kirk could set his cup down. "Actually the heat
bothered me more than anything. And those stupid Vulcans have never
heard of an air conditioner." He refilled his own cup. "Mostly we were
too busy to do much socializing."

"Do Vulcans socialize?" Kirk queried.

"Family things," McCoy said. "V'Rhsal and I went camping for a couple
of days. We went to a reserve, La'Val. There's a beautiful lake and a
gorgeous, white beach. Vulcans don't fish but V'Rhsal didn't seem to
care much if I did. We went for a swim. I found this reef about half a
mile out that---" McCoy stopped at the expression on Kirk's face.
"What is it?"

Kirk blinked. "Let me get this straight. On Vulcan you went swimming
and fishing?"

"I had a good time," McCoy said. "But I found you have to be careful
in Vulcan's hot sun. V'Rhsal warned me about it but I still got this
awful sunburn in a place that hadn't seen sun since I was seven or so.
He was rather unsympathetic though he did go to a pharmacy for me."

The intercom whistled. McCoy opened the switch. "Yes..."

"Doctor, is the Captain with you?" came Spock's voice.

Kirk leaned forward. "What is it, Spock?"

"We received a transmission from Kór V'Rhsal twenty two seconds ago.
He has dispatched his updated generator design."

"Good. Send it down to Scotty. I'll be up in a little while."

Kirk shut off the intercom. "I feel rather silly," he admitted.

"Why?"

"All this because of a weed."

"I don't think 'silly' is a word I'd use," the doctor mused. "To be
honest, it gave me the creeps."

"I suppose if you know how explosive it is..."

McCoy shook his head. "It wasn't that. It's hard to describe." He
hesitated. "It was never still. It rustled and creaked and slithered."

Kirk chuckled. "Come on, Bones."

The doctor was serious. "It didn't have any roots. It used to move. It
crawled over doorjambs and up stairs and once I even found it..." He
trailed off. "It was a working part of a brain. It reacted to stimulus
in odd ways and it talked to itself. When we finished our experiments,
V'Rhsal wanted to destroy it. If he had, you wouldn't be having this
problem with the Romulans."

"If it wasn't this, it would have been something else," Kirk said.
"The border's been edgy for a while." He studied the doctor. "Have you
any thoughts on how it was stolen?"

McCoy shrugged. "No."

"And it has nothing to do with when you asked me to check on V'Rhsal's
wife?" Kirk prompted.

"I don't know what to think about her." The doctor rose abruptly and
deposited his cup in the cycler. Changing the subject, he said, "I'm a
little confused as to why we still have all these counsellors on
board. I thought they were a temporary thing while the ship was doing
training runs."

"So did I," Kirk admitted. "Once a month I suffer through a medical
briefing with them. It's like listening to a room full of amateur
Freuds discussing space-willies. They never agree with each other.
They have twenty-five theories to account for every reaction they've
observed in crew members. They all talk at once and by the end of the
briefing they're usually screaming at each other."

"I have no sympathy for you, Captain. It was you who sat here and told
me, and I quote, 'It's not a bad idea, Bones. I can think of a few
problems that could have been avoided over the years with this
policy.'"

"Did I say that?" Kirk asked innocently.

McCoy scowled. "It's taken me four days to figure out my new job
description, a job description I see, by the way, that you personally
approved."

"Me?"

"Who's JTK is that at the bottom of the approval form?"

Kirk smiled. "Ok. I'm sorry I did it while you weren't here. But
couldn't you at least get them to stop yelling at each other?"

"Yelling is normal for psychiatrists. Do you think I asked my patients
in Shi'Kaver to stop speaking Vulcan?" McCoy asked.

A puzzled expression crossed Kirk's face. "Come to think of it, the
Vulcans I met at the hospital were speaking Standard."

The intercom whistled again. McCoy tapped the button. "Sickbay."

"Leonard, I'm looking for the Captain," came Scotty's voice.

"What is it, Scotty?" Kirk asked.

"Captain, I've been looking at this packet the Vulcan laddie sent to
me."

"Meet you up on the bridge, Scotty," Kirk said. "Five minutes." He
ended the communication. "Come on, Bones. We'll need you too."

---

A recording of V'Rhsal's transmission was running on one of Spock's
screens. McCoy watched, intrigued at the sight of the generator
reduced to white lines and an animated image that revolved slowly in a
background of bright blue.

"It's a fair bright bit of engineering," Scotty said. "He started with
the Kelvan's basic design but he's refined it considerably. There's
not an extra hair of weight on her yet she's got a solid power base."

Kirk eyed the image. "Can you reproduce it?"

"Aye," Scotty said. "We could make ye one. To affect an entire ship,
though, will require boosting with our engine's own power."

"What exactly would it do?" Kirk asked.

Spock paused the image. "If the Klingons have grown more of these
plants, the generator will trigger consecutive breaches until the
potency of the plant is rendered inert."

"Meaning it would blow up under their noses," Kirk said.

Scotty nodded. "Aye, if it was so inclined. What bothers me is the way
the generator would have to ride through a ship's deflector screens."

"Ride?" Kirk asked.

"The type of deflector that the Klingons use operates in opposing
wavelengths. Some are shorter, faster waves. They travel out from the
hull. Deeper, longer waves return in. The generator should be able to
ride on these longer waves as it uses the same system. But there is a
problem," Scotty said.

Spock cut in. "While each Klingon ship we have encountered has used
the same type of deflector screen, each screen itself is distinctly
different, such as fingerprints are from one another. Each deflector
screen would require fine-tuning the generator's field."

Scotty nodded. "Though I understand the mechanics of these little
beasties well enough, Captain, they're nae really in my field. They're
medical equipment."

"Spock will have to help you," Kirk said.

"For each Klingon ship we encounter, Mr. Scott and I estimate we will
need five to eight standard hours in order to tune the generator and
set up the field," Spock said.

Kirk was quiet for a few minutes, his arms crossed against his chest.
"We don't have that much time."

Scotty nodded. "But we nae the designers of this beastie. We're
working second hand."

McCoy had been silent. Finally he said, "I get the feeling you're
missing something."

"Elaborate," Spock said. "Have we overlooked information in the
transmission or has Kór V'Rhsal omitted information?"

"I haven't seen the transmission," McCoy replied carefully. He sat
down at Spock's station as the Vulcan replayed the tape. "Who
translated this into standard?"

"It was in standard," Scotty said.

"Maybe if we put it in Vulcan," McCoy said. "V'Rhsal's not a linguist.
And I'm used to talking about it in Vulcan so maybe something will
come to me." He quieted, translating in his mind as he watched the
blue screen. He heard Kirk and Scotty, behind him, cross over to the
command chair, their voices low. Spock remained standing, eyeing the
doctor, his gaze unreadable.

McCoy glanced around the bridge. Uhura was busy at her station. Chekov
and Sulu were talking, heads together, and a stray yeoman was busy at
the far wall. Finally McCoy turned back to Spock. In a voice he knew
only the Vulcan could hear, and in the Vulcan's own language, he said,
"All right. I admit. I could just ask him."

"It would save time," Spock replied. "Beyond this, it is your own
concern."

He moved behind the doctor, shielding him should Kirk happen to glance
over. Then he closed his eyes and McCoy felt a gentle support.

He stared at the screen until his eyes no longer saw it. His mind's
eye travelled in and down until he saw the glint of thread that held
the connection. McCoy reached and touched V'Rhsal.

There was no distance, the Vulcan as close as if he, not Spock, stood
behind. They needed no words. Mind thoughts, images as quick as wisps
came and went. Here and gone, a strange exaltation, and a strange
heaviness. He felt the rush of blood and the flapping of dark wings.
He could taste, smell, feel the Vulcan. Then he opened his eyes and he
was suddenly back on the ship, his knuckles white where he was holding
the board. The screen was dark.

With a start, he heard his name.

"McCoy!"

It was Kirk's voice, insistent. McCoy blinked as he turned. Spock was
just opening his own eyes and everyone on the bridge, including the
yeoman, was staring at him.

"McCoy, are you deaf?" Kirk paced to the rail, then stopped short.
"Are you ill?"

McCoy took a deep breath. "No."

"You're white to the gills."

"I'm fine." He steadied his voice. "Spock and I have figured this
out."

The Vulcan shot a glance at him, as if to say 'Have we?'

McCoy loosened his hands, trying to get the feeling back into them.
"It's the proximity. Remember, I told you, I had to sit the generator
almost on top of the cerebellum."

"Yes..." Kirk had stepped on the upper deck, his thoughtful gaze
sweeping between McCoy and Spock.

"If the generator is within the Klingon's shields, it will naturally
ride the waves in. It's attracted to the longer energy waves. It won't
require any fine-tuning."

Scotty burst out. "What are you saying, Leonard? We cannae get that
close!"

"We can't beam anything through their shields," Kirk said.

"The shields occupy space approximately one point three kilometres out
from the hull," Spock said, catching on.

"Room enough for a shuttle," McCoy added.

"WHAT?" Scotty looked aghast.

"A cloaked shuttle," Spock said.

"Suicide!" Scotty shook his head.

"I volunteer," Spock cut in, ignoring the engineer.

McCoy turned on Spock. "You can't go. You don't know how to work the
generator."

"You do not know how to pilot a shuttlecraft," the Vulcan replied.

"Gentlemen," Kirk said softly. He shook his head. "I am not sending
any of my crew out for that nor am I accepting volunteers."

"Captain..." Spock started.

"They may not even have grown any more of those things," Kirk said.

"We have a duty to find out," Spock said, "if for no other reason than
for proof that can be offered to the Romulans."

"Aye," Scotty added. "A weapon they can simply grow is too tempting,
no matter how unstable it may be. But we cannae send people out in a
shuttle." At Kirk's face, he and McCoy said at the same time, "And YOU
aren't going, Jim!"

"We'll see." Kirk returned to his command chair.

---

The Klingons came out of the sky at exactly shift change the next
morning. Twice the usual number of people on the bridge stopped
abruptly as the red alert blared out and the shields powered up. Twice
as many eyed the viewscreen nervously before glancing at the Captain.

"Clear the bridge," Kirk said. His day staff swooped into their seats
as the turbo lifts snapped into operation. "Status."

"She must have been cloaked," Sulu said, "because she's close. Only
fourteen hundred metres from us."

"They're hailing us, Captain," Uhura said.

Kirk nodded. A moment later the sight of the Klingon Bird of Prey on
the viewscreen was replaced by an equally impressive Klingon male in
full military dominance.

"Captain Kirk," he said politely, his mouth moving in the Klingon
version of a smile which looked more like a snarl.

"I am he."

"I am Commander Kah'arrd. I am honoured to make your acquaintance."

Kirk found polite Klingons more unnerving than angry ones. He studied
the Klingon for a few moments, before asking, "Is there anything I can
do for you today, Commander, or is this a social call?"

"I feel it is time to speak, my Empire to your Federation. You are
aware of some recent...border developments."

Sulu glanced up suddenly. Before he could speak, four more Birds of
Prey appeared on the viewscreen. Kirk managed to note the arrivals
without moving a muscle on his face. Kah'arrd, obviously expecting
some reaction, studied Kirk warily. Then he sat back in his chair.

"As the human phrase goes, Captain...your place or mine?"

---

"I'm not sure about this," McCoy muttered.

Kirk smiled at him. "You volunteered, Bones." He eyed the doctor
climbing into the shuttle after him. McCoy moved slowly, cradling the
generator Scotty had built.

Sulu climbed in after them, followed by three burly guards.

"Strap in," Kirk said. "We're off to a party."

They waited in the red, dim light of the shuttle until the hanger
doors opened. They were going to time dropping their shields with
Kah'raad's own ship, slip out, and meet the Klingons' shuttle halfway.
Kirk felt the risk worth taking, though it was a very high risk to
leave the starship while four Birds of Prey were within kilometres.
But if they wanted to destroy him, they could have easily done so by
now and been out of the area. This would also be an excellent test for
the generator.

The signal came down from the bridge. Sulu glanced at Kirk but the
helmsman's face betrayed nothing. He simply said, "The Allegiance is
ready to go."

Kirk strapped himself into the co-pilot's chair. "Take her up."

The shuttled lifted and glided gently into the black of space. Sulu
flew them softly, keeping the Enterprise between them and the Klingons
until it would be absolutely necessary to leave her protection.
Despite the tension, it was a graceful ride. Kirk watched the great
starship through the port holes, revelling in the sweeping lines of
the hull and nacelles, and the great disc in shadow above.

"You never realize how big she truly is until you see her from this
angle," McCoy said in a hushed voice.

"Wait until you see how big these ships are, doc," Sulu said. As they
swung around, the four massive Klingon ships fell into view.

The Klingon shuttle was coming to meet them, moving at a fast clip. Of
course they well could go so quickly, Kirk reflected sourly, with such
back-up. He glanced at McCoy.

"Do we actually have to be within the Klingons' shields?"

"No," McCoy said, "but we have to be outside of our own."

Kirk gauged the speed of the Klingons' shuttle, then turned to Sulu.
"Speed up. Let's force this closer to their ship."

The shuttles met within a kilometre and a half of Kah'raad's ship.
Kirk glanced out the back viewport and grinned suddenly. "Do Vulcans
swear? I can imagine how Spock must be viewing our proximity."

"I'm glad someone's enjoying this," McCoy scowled as he set up the
generator behind the last seat. "This thing hums a bit while it's
going."

"We'll be up front," Kirk said. He felt a gentle thud as the hatchways
of the two shuttles lined up. In front of him, his security had drawn
phasers and were waiting silently.

"Ready McCoy?"

"Just a moment." McCoy made a last check. He had already checked the
generator in trial runs with Scotty but this last action made him feel
a little bit better. He turned it on, then said, "Sulu, just to let
you know. If they're stupid enough to have grown any more of those
plants, we may not wish to be this close."

"How long will it take?" Kirk asked.

McCoy frowned. "I don't know. Ten minutes or ten days. It depends on
the plant."

Kirk stood and assumed an air of nonchalance. "All right, Sulu."

They opened the doorway. Kah'raad led his troop into the doorway and
raised his fist in the Klingon salute. "Captain Kirk."

"Commander," Kirk nodded.

Kah'raad strode forward until he was a few inches from Kirk. "I have
heard much of you."

"I have heard nothing of you," Kirk replied impassively, noting his
men flinching at the nearness of the Klingon, their hands tightening
on their phaser belts.

Kah'raad's eyes swept over Kirk's men. He had only two men to Kirk's
five, unless there were more in his shuttle. After a long scrutiny, he
said, "What I wish to say to you, Captain Kirk, is of some importance.
Do you trust all of these men?"

"With my life," Kirk said, smiling.

"Your life is not the issue here," Kah'raad said with a shrug. "I will
speak regarding issues of some sensitivity in our governments."

Kirk motioned the Klingon to the front chairs, then nodded at his
security. "Four metres."

They stepped back the appropriate distance, which happened to put them
almost on top of the Klingon guards. Sulu, after another glance from
Kirk, joined McCoy in the back of the shuttle.

The two Captains studied each other for a moment. Then Kah'raad leaned
forward and said something that came as a low mumble to McCoy's ears.
There was a pause, then Kirk said something equally as low. McCoy
exchanged a glance with Sulu. The generator hummed with a queer,
rather unpleasant vibration that ran right up his legs.

"Should we be so close?" Sulu asked in a whisper.

McCoy shrugged. "To the Klingons or to this thing? It's enclosed
except for this small opening." McCoy indicated a vent which was
pointed at the shuttle's wall. "Scotty made it directional."

"Let's hope he did," Sulu said. "I can feel it in my calves." He
quieted for a few moments, then said, "But if it's aimed at their
ship, what will it do to them?"

The doctor returned Sulu's look grimly. "Let's hope none of them have
any weak arteries."

Kirk and Kah'raad were still speaking low. Their guards, antsy, were
shuffling from foot to foot and watching each other like hawks.

"Damnit, hurry up!" McCoy whispered, shaking his legs to get rid of
the vibration from the generator. But it was nearly another ten
minutes before Kirk and Kah'raad rose. They exchanged the Klingon
salute again, and the Klingon returned to his shuttle. His guards
sneered at the Enterprise men before following. The hatchway closed.

"Let's go home," Kirk said, looking sombre.

Sulu returned to his chair as McCoy shut off the generator. During the
trip back, Kirk asked, "Well, McCoy?"

"The generator worked fine. The possibilities are that there were no
Boojums, that there was no plant, or that they've improved the plant
so that the generator no longer affects it."

"I don't like that last one." The Captain turned his attention back
out the viewscreen, obviously distracted.

They waited outside the hanger doors for Spock's signal. Finally they
were back and the doors shut behind them.

Kirk hit the intercom. "Bridge."

"Spock here, Captain. I trust everyone is well."

Kirk chuckled. "If that's your way of wondering if any of us got out
heads blown off, you can rest easy. Prepare for warp speed, Spock.
I'll be up there momentarily." ---

Kirk, Spock, and Tyne Misu were at a table when McCoy entered the mess
hall. He punched up a salad and tea from the food processor and joined
them.

Kirk's face still wore the slightly distracted half-frown. Tyne and
Spock, however, were a chunk of normalcy, she venting rapid questions
at the Vulcan and he responding nimbly in his famous lecturing drone.
McCoy sat down in time to hear Tyne say, "...but the genetics of it
are all wrong!" She turned to the doctor. "Len, tell him-"

"I'm on break tonight," McCoy interrupted, amused. "It's Spock's turn
to deal with you."

"Deal with me?" she snorted. "These are logical questions."

"Not entirely," Spock said in a politely neutral tone.

She pretended to huff into silence which, co-incidentally quieted the
whole table.

McCoy glanced at Kirk. The Captain was merely picking at his steak.

"Not hungry, Jim?"

Kirk brought his full attention back to the table. He glanced at
McCoy's plate. "You should talk, Bones. Where are you hiding the
rabbit?"

"Believe it or not, Jim, vegetables are actually good for you."

"You can't fool me, Bones. Give or take an hour, you'll be back here
looking for the cows."

Tyne glanced up. "Len, I thought you told me you were a vegetarian."

Kirk eyed her, then roared, "HIM? A vegetarian? He's eaten so many
bovine he could have started his own herd."

Tyne broke in. "I haven't seen him eat any meat."

McCoy shrugged. "My lips have not touched meat for over two years."

"I don't think your lips ever touched it, it went down so fast," Kirk
said.

Spock cut in. "I see Vulcan has had a positive influence on you,
doctor."

"I think you've got that backwards."

Kirk glanced between Spock and the doctor thoughtfully. "Just what the
hell are the two of you up to?"

"Pardon?" Spock asked as McCoy managed to look mildly intrigued.

Kirk shook his head. "Don't play innocent. It's like waiting for a
bomb to go off. The two of you have been in cahoots ever since we came
back from Vulcan."

"Cahoots?" Spock queried?

"Hardly!" McCoy said. "In fact, I'm waiting for the 'other shoe to
drop'."

"If you are referring to retaliation for the route you used for the
Khlabar vaccine," Spock said, "then you may rest your mind. Vulcans
are not vengeful."

"Like hell. I just spent two years on your planet, remember?" McCoy
said, but to his surprise, Kirk did not pick up on the interplay.
"Jim, what's wrong?"

Kirk put down his coffee, which was now cold. "Nothing's wrong, Bones.
Spock, if you're done, I'd like you to take a turn on the bridge with
me."

The Vulcan rose immediately. When they were in the turbo-lift, Kirk
said, "Spock, there's something I need followed up. Discreetly."

Spock waited. Finally Kirk reached over and slapped the halt button.
"I need you to check up on V'Rhsal and also on his wife. Her name's
Sah'Sheer and she's on the Nézni in the Mutari sector."

"Check for what, Jim?"

"Anything. Everything. Background, family, political affiliations,
what they do, what they own." Kirk led out a breath. "I didn't want to
ask you this in front of McCoy."

"I see," Spock said neutrally.

"Or in front of Dr. Misu either. She and Bones are getting rather
friendly. I've caught her coming out of his cabin."

"May I inquire as to the reasons for this?"

"Kah'raad may be setting me up but he told me the Klingons who met the
Romulan envoy were working on their own."

"Why would he impart such information to you?" Spock asked.

"He claims he thinks I can act." Kirk tightened his jaw. "He said the
Romulans have been retaliating against Klingon ships and I don't doubt
that. The Klingons are probably suffering heavy losses at their
borders. Kah'raad claims it's a Vulcan supplying the plants, many of
them."

"Does he know the Vulcan's name?"

Kirk looked away. "V'Rhsal."

Spock was quiet for a few moments, then he said, "Jim, it is
unlikely."

"McCoy said himself that whoever the stole the plant had to get by an
extensive security system and it was extensive. We saw it ourselves. I
don't think a fly could have got past."

"If Kór V'Rhsal had committed such an irrational act, Dr. McCoy would
have known."

"Not necessarily. Bones said he came home to find the plant gone. It
didn't happen while he was there."

"Irrelevant," Spock said. "McCoy would have known."

Kirk eyed Spock for a long time. Then he said simply, "Why?"

"It is not my place to say."

"Spock, we're dealing with a possible war. Tell me."

"Jim, I cannot. I am a Vulcan before I am a Starfleet officer."

Kirk leaned back heavily against the railing. He lowered his voice
too. "Spock, there are words you've told me that I have never heard.
There are things only we know between ourselves and they have gone
beyond my commission."

Spock nodded. "Yes, but if McCoy has not spoken of this to you, I will
not do so. It concerns nothing relevant to either of us, or to the
Klingon/Romulan situation. I will post an alternate theory.
En'Sah'Sheer must know the security system as well."

"Which is why I need her checked," Kirk said. "And don't change the
subject, Spock. At this point, I'm ready to confine McCoy to his
quarters."

"That is your privilege."

"Spock, for God's sakes!"

"Ask the doctor yourself."

"I would, if I knew what the hell to ask!" Kirk said frustratedly.
"Spock, when we get to the bridge, I'm going to order this ship back
to Vulcan to pick up V'Rhsal."

"You have been in further contact with him?"

"Just before dinner. He thinks he's coming on board as a civilian
advisor."

"That would be his official capacity," Spock said tonelessly.

"I don't know what to believe yet. I need information, not guessing
games. If V'Rhsal is responsible for this, he's committed treason
against the Federation. I'm to keep my eye on him and that's been
handed to me by Admiral Nogura direct." Kirk met the Vulcan's eyes.
"Can't you see the position I'm in? f I do end up arresting V'Rhsal,
what kind of conflict on interest does that present for McCoy now that
there's this big unknown regarding them? Maybe you think their
personal consideration ranks higher than an eagle's ass but it pales
next to an interstellar concern."

Spock released the halt button. "Jim, I can no more tell you his
confidences than him yours. However, I do not believe you will ever
have the inclination to arrest Kór V'Rhsal."

---

Kirk sought out McCoy early the next morning. He found the doctor
setting up the lab and making coffee.

"I thought I'd catch you now before our days get busy."

McCoy took a chair. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you about what happened on the bridge the day before
yesterday. I called your name four times before you heard me. I called
Spock twice but he was off in some never-never land too. And the both
of you looked sick beyond belief."

McCoy didn't respond. Finally, Kirk said, "I asked Spock about it but
he clammed up."

"Sorry, Jim. I didn't hear you calling me."

Kirk outstared the doctor. When McCoy dropped his gaze, Kirk felt
something inside him drop too.

The ship's intercom droned quietly from the hall and, in the next
room, a door opened and closed. "We'll be meeting a Vulcan convoy in a
few hours," Kirk said at last.

"I know," McCoy said.

"You do?"

"V'Rhsal's coming on board."

In a neutral voice, Kirk said, "I thought we could use his knowledge
about the generator first-hand."

"You also think he's the one who gave it to the Klingons," McCoy
retorted.

Kirk felt a cold stab of anger. "Spock was way out of line to---"

"I haven't spoken to Spock since he left for the bridge with you,"
McCoy said. "Besides, what else should I think?" The doctor frowned.
"Jim, I don't understand your attitude towards V'Rhsal. You've hardly
been around him."

"Bones, it's not that."

"It isn't anything else," McCoy said. "V'Rhsal no more gave this to
the Klingons than you did. It's ludicrous to think so."

"Two years ago I would have taken your word on this. On anything,"
Kirk said.

The doctor stared at him. "Do you think I've changed my whole value
system in two years? I am a Starfleet officer. Beyond that, I am your
friend."

"But there's a difference in you," Kirk said.

"You've changed a bit too."

"You've changed a lot."

"Have I?" McCoy looked genuinely pained. Then it passed. "Jim, two
years ago, I walked through the Shi'Kaver Hospital. I saw a Vulcan
restrained, strapped in a chair. He couldn't move an inch. He'd lost
the ability to speak. When he opened his mouth, he drooled, like an
infant. He even had to wear diapers. And do you know what the
prognosis was? He had another two, maybe even three years left. Can
you imagine?"

Kirk shook his head.

"V'Rhsal lost his father to Khlabar, and a close friend. He had a
brother who was showing symptoms." He drew a deep breath. "V'Rhsal
wanted to try a neural generator which was, like, one of the longest
shots there is. He asked for my help. After seeing that man on the
ward, I didn't hesitate. Then V'Rhsal said there was a way to get an
edge on our partnership, a way to truly pool our resources." McCoy
finally looked up. "The mind meld."

Kirk looked about as utterly stunned as McCoy had ever seen him. He
choked out, "You? With HIM? You didn't!"

"I did," the doctor replied quietly. "V'Rhsal ended his meld with his
wife to join with me."

Kirk sat down as it went through him. Then, suddenly, he said, "You're
still melded, aren't you? And Spock knows?"

"He's known for two years. He sensed the meld through me."

Kirk frowned. "But you hated it. Those few times that Spock..."

"Yes, I hated it."

Kirk searched McCoy's face. "Bones, why are you still melded?"

For a moment, the doctor's expression was the most unguarded that Kirk
had ever seen. "Jim, I don't know. I'm...reluctant to end it just yet,
I guess."

Kirk chose his next words carefully, "This puts you in the worst
possible position. Starfleet ordered me to watch him. Why didn't you
tell me before?"

"It's a very personal matter where Vulcans are concerned. I guess
where I'm concerned too. Everything he is. Everything I am. It's all
there. It's like walking around with my fly always open." The doctor
refilled his cup. "Now that you know, you have to act in accordance
with regulations. If you feel him guilty, you'll have to assume I've
been covering for him. And if you fail to make that assumption,
Starfleet will accuse you of a cover-up and it'll be your ass as
well."

With a stricken look, Kirk said, "McCoy, if they find you guilty of
treason, it's a death sentence."

To his astonishment, McCoy laughed. "Jim, for heaven's sakes, I can
just see me sitting in the court room and the prosecutor says, 'guilty
of supplying weapons to a hostile faction' and out they come with
exhibit A, one big fern."

"It's hardly a joking matter."

"It's hardly serious either. Jim, he can't go to the bathroom that I
don't know about it."

Kirk was silent for a few minutes longer. Then, gently, he said,
"Bones, if you break this meld now, I can keep you out of it. Surely
it can't be that pleasant for you."

McCoy studied Kirk. "Why do you dislike him so much?"

"He sets off every internal alarm I have. I don't trust him."

"I do, Jim. Obviously, with everything."

---

To play it safe, Kirk had the department heads on hand to greet the
Vulcan shuttle, if for no other reason than to make the appearance of
respect. McCoy sent Christine Chapel as medical representative, an
action Kirk was not comfortable with. Spock, however, seemed to have
no unease, and acted as if the conversation with Kirk in the turbo
lift had never happened. Kirk eyed the Vulcan as the shuttle came to
final docking. So he had known for two years. On the other hand it
certainly explained the disparity in Spock's attitude with McCoy since
the latter's return.

The hatchway opened and V'Rhsal walked down the plank.

"Welcome aboard," Kirk said, smiling. The smile was quickly
extinguished as the black eyes bored through to his backbone as they
studied him.

"Captain," V'Rhsal said. If he had any inkling of the real reason Kirk
had invited him on board, he gave no sign. Then again, Kirk could
hardly expect he would. This one was all Vulcan.

V'Rhsal glanced at Spock. "Kór Spock, I look forward to discussing the
Asimov Paradox with you."

"I look forward to it," Spock said. "The Chief Engineer, Mr. Scott,
and I have made some progress in that direction since our last
discussion."

Scotty stepped forward, a large grin on his face. "Pleased to meet
you, sir. Your generator design is a bonny thing."

V'Rhsal paused. Then, to Kirk's amazement, warmth invaded the black
gaze. "The design meets your approval then?"

"Meets my approval?" Scotty echoed. "Heavens, man! But if you'd care
to work on something with me, I've got his idea concerning the warp
engines..."

Kirk interrupted. "Mr. V'Rhsal, I extend my gratitude to you for
agreeing to this mission. I feel it only right to warn you, though.
We're on our way to the borders. I cannot guarantee your safety."

"You indicated such in your communiqué, Captain," the Vulcan replied.

Kirk stepped back. "Due to security, I am afraid you're restricted to
diplomatic limits. My officers will explain this to you and show you
to your cabin. There is a briefing tonight at 1900 hours."

He left Spock and Scotty to do the introductions with the rest of the
officers and returned to the bridge.

---

Scotty was the only one in the briefing room when Kirk arrived that
evening. The Scotsman looked a little flushed and Kirk, with a flash
of suspicion, asked, "Scotty, are you sure you're up to this meeting?"

Scotty looked somewhat offended. "What do ye mean?"

"Let me smell your breath," Kirk said.

"Well, it was a wee nip," Scotty said. "But then, it isn't often we
get the likes of that Vulcan laddie on board. We spent the afternoon
in the engine room, fine-tuning as it were."

"You fine-tuned the warp engines while under the influence of Scotch?"
Kirk asked. "Scotty, you heard me say diplomatic limits."

"We were in my office and we had the drink after the tour. To
celebrate, ye see."

"We?"

"Well, the Vulcan laddie had a drop too."

"Are you pulling my leg, Mr. Scott?"

"It's true," Scotty said. "I opened my own private stock. Sure and
enough but he gets a glass and joins me. He may be a Vulcan but he
knows a good brand of scotch when he sees it."

As Kirk was trying to visualize the scene, the door opened and Spock
and Sulu entered.

Kirk nodded at them, then continued, "Scotty, did the two of you have
any time to devote to the generator, the reason Kór V'Rhsal came on
board?"

"Well sure, but then Leonard came in. He and V'Rhsal disappeared
somewhere and never came back."

Uhura and DeSalle, the chief of security, showed up next. Finally
McCoy and V'Rhsal came in and took the remaining seats.

Kirk took a long look around him before speaking. "The Enterprise will
be at Space Station C-6 in eighteen days. We will be meeting Romulan
representatives to discuss possible treaty violations. I have no need
to tell you what can happen should the Romulans feel we have broken
the peace."

"It's the Klingons they have the fight with," DeSalle said.

Kirk shrugged. "That's not as clear to them. A Federation party
consisting of Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan, Ambassador R'Heave of Delta,
and Ambassador Chen of Earth will be at Station C-6 tomorrow.
Hopefully, they'll break some ground for us. Our job will be to
provide such evidence as we can in support of the Federation
delegates. That means verification of the plant that the Klingons are
using, proof that they've refined it on their own initiative, and any
documentation that will clear Vulcan of charges of weapons conspiracy.
To get such proof, it's imperative that we force encounters between
ourselves and the Klingons. The odds aren't the greatest, but if we
can run up against a Klingon ship that has a plant on board, we can
detonate it using the generator. Organian Treaty will allow us some
flexibility to take the ship back with us to C-6 as evidence."

Kirk saw Uhura and Sulu exchange a glum look. McCoy frowned. "Force
encounters? Do you mean actively provoke the Klingons?"

Kirk nodded. "This course of action was decided upon by Federation
council. Mr. Sulu, your job will be to plot us a nice course that puts
us right through the most heavily accessed of their borders."

"I've spent years trying to avoid those spots," Sulu said softly.

"I hope you've all met Mr. V'Rhsal by now," Kirk continued. "He is the
designer of the generator. Hopefully, he'll be able to come up with a
way for us to avoid sending a shuttlecraft within the one point three
kilometre radius of Klingon shields."

Spock interrupted. "Captain, this course of action could
cause...misfortune for the Klingon crew."

"I'm aware that some Klingon lives may be lost," Kirk said. "It's a
necessary risk."

"Captain, if we take a Klingon ship in tow, are we not in danger of
provoking the Klingon Empire?" Uhura asked. "We could end up with war
on two fronts at once."

"If we do take a Klingon ship, it will be only to prove the existence
of the plant," Kirk said. "The Klingons will have breached the treaty,
not us. Actually, the Federation's first directive was to leave this
issue entirely between the Klingons and the Romulans. Unfortunately
Vulcan has been dragged into it. We have been forced to act." Kirk
paused before adding, "Mr. Spock, Mr. Scott, and Mr. V'Rhsal, your
work will be with the generator. Mr. Sulu, if we do take a ship, your
Away team will board her and transfer sufficient Starfleet personnel
to run her. Dr. McCoy would also be boarding with a Medical Team to
treat the injured. Mr. DeSalle, our 'guests' would be your
responsibility. Lt. Uhura, your job will be to send ahead to the
Federation Delegation all documentation possible to clear Vulcan and
the Federation of any complicity. Any questions?"

The barrage of discussion that followed made Kirk almost wish he
hadn't asked. He noted, however, that neither V'Rhsal and McCoy said
anything. Even Spock seemed unusually quiet. It wasn't until the
meeting had cleared and he and Spock were the only ones left in the
briefing room, that the Vulcan said, "Jim, would you, in fact, use Kór
V'Rhsal, then deliver him over to Organian law?"

"That's a surprising question, Spock. Are you convinced of his guilt?"

"Hardly," Spock said. "But I was under the impression that you were."

"Spock, I'm not convinced, but if it wasn't him, then who got past
that security?"

"There is an obvious answer," Spock said.

"I know." Kirk shook his head. "And if that's so, we're still dealing
with a Vulcan."

---

Kirk flew out of sleep at the blare of the red alert. He slammed the
intercom. "What's going on?"

"Explosion in shuttle bay, sir," Uhura said. "Deck being sealed off
now."

Kirk ran into the turbo, carrying his shirt. In the lower deck,
Scotty, McCoy, and a security team were standing outside the shuttle
bay doors.

"Atmosphere ok," the Scotsman said. "No hull breach. Ready for entry."

"Open it up," Kirk said.

The heavy doors rolled back. Kirk glanced into the smoky gloom
tentatively. McCoy, following, was holding a tricorder.

"I don't read anyone down here," he said, with a trace of relief.

"The bays should be empty at this time," Scotty said. He nodded at his
men. "Spread out."

Kirk stepped carefully. "It smells like...burnt pine cones."

McCoy stopped and sniffed the air. His face suddenly dropped. "My
God!"

"Bones?" Kirk asked.

"I know that smell. It's..." The doctor looked down. Kirk squinted
through the debris-swirling atmosphere. There was something on the
floor.

"Shit!" McCoy said. "Jim, we've got to get out of here!"

Kirk took a step towards the doctor and tripped over a rustling,
feathery thing he couldn't see. Whatever it was groaned at his
movement and slithered around his ankles.

McCoy fanned the air, trying to get a better look. "Jim, we've got to
eject this off the ship. God forbid it should get into the
ventilators."

"Eject what?" Kirk started but then he saw it. Long tendrils of what
resembled heavy, brown ropes stirred over the tops of his boots,
whispering and moaning. "Is this your plant?" Kirk whispered.

"It's NOT mine!" McCoy glared back. "It's a different one."

"Scotty, clear these men out."

The Scotchman was not easily moved by shrubbery. "We could use a
pitchfork."

"This isn't funny," McCoy said, holding out his tricorder. "Look at
the energy readings."

Scotty's face changed. He took a second look, then called out, "Come
on, Lads. On tiptoes. You set your heels on the floor and you'll be
working a double, I tell ye!"

"We'll secure the shuttles, open the hatch, and let it get blown out,"
Kirk said.

He stepped gently to the nearest shuttle, the Spirit, and locked its
front pads to the loading dock. As he crept around to the rear pads,
he saw the Allegiance tipped on her side. Blackened around a hole that
gaped from her doorway were burnt, black vines spiderwebbed across the
metal.

"Looks like the Klingons left us a present," Kirk said grimly. Or else
V'Rhsal did, but he didn't voice that thought aloud. "Hurry up,
Bones."

"Of course I'm hurrying!" McCoy retorted as he secured the Galileo. "I
never liked this thing before!"

Kirk fastened the last pads, then straightened, his face thoughtful.
"Scotty!"

"Here, Captain." The Scotchman was near the Allegiance, a sour
expression on his face.

"Set up a containment field, pronto! I want a sample of this."

"Jim, that's dangerous," McCoy said.

"It's also evidence," Kirk said.

"Of what?" McCoy asked. "It doesn't prove a thing as far as the
Klingons go."

"And it doesn't clear your partner either," Kirk said. "If you think
the Klingons have refined it, chances are they've mixed it with some
native Klingon weed."

"Jim, my tricorder reads energy to the sixth power."

"And we're up to our butts in it," Kirk shrugged.

"Goddamn smart ass sense of humour..." McCoy muttered as he stepped
carefully towards the door. As he neared it, V'Rhsal entered, carrying
a portable field generator. His black eyes swept across the shuttle
bay.

"I know!" McCoy grumbled. He moved into the hallway. A few minutes
later, Kirk, Scotty, and the Vulcan followed, cradling a piece of the
plant encased in a force field.

Kirk secured the doorway, then opened the intercom. "Bridge."

"Spock here."

"Open the hanger doors."

"Captain, we have not pressurised the..."

"NOW!"

There was a low, rumbling vibration as the doors opened. The secured
shuttles lifted slightly as the gravity and life support were
overcome. The rest of the movement was not so gentle. Every bulb in
the hanger suddenly exploded. The Allegiance hurled towards the
opening. One of her pylons caught on the inside hull and wrenched
sickeningly as she was sucked from the bay. A first aid kit flew after
her, then a blur of a red toolbox. The roar of air was almost
deafening.

"Harper! What did I tell ye about leaving your tools around?" Scotty
yelled from behind Kirk. "This'll be coming out of your pay!"

"Captain," came Spock's voice from the intercom. "Scanners read high
energy fluctuations from the Allegiance."

"I don't doubt it," Kirk said. "Tell Sulu to lock phasers on her and
you can close the bay doors now."

"Federated Greenpeace won't like the way we're throwing our junk into
space," Scotty commented after the doors had closed.

Kirk studied the piece of plant floating gently in containment. "Is
that field strong enough?"

V'Rhsal nodded. "It is adequate. Captain Kirk, this is not the same
vine that Dr. McCoy and I grew."

Scotty frowned. "It looks like a bloody fern. 'Tis hard to believe it
stores energy."

"Captain, the Allegiance has been destroyed," came Sulu's voice from
the bridge.

"Good," Kirk replied. "Scotty, take it down to engineering. Mr. Sulu,
I've got a flower delivery for you."

---

Kirk stared across the science station at the lit viewscreen. "No
doubt, eh?"

Sulu and Tyne were hunched over the board. Spock stood quietly behind
the Captain.

"No doubt at all," Tyne said. "For once, Mr. Sulu and I agree on
something."

The Helmsman chuckled as he pointed at the blowup of the plant's cell
structure on the screen. "This is definitely from Vulcan. I'd guess a
le'croya or miiko plant pollen from the atomic arrangement. But see,
right here, the space between has been reduced and there's an extra
molecule, the arrangement of which I've never seen before."

"Could it be a Klingon plant?" Kirk asked.

Sulu shrugged. "I can't tell. It's not organic though. Our computer
has no match for it but we can be definite on one point. This atomic
structure has been deliberately engineered. It's not a natural
grouping."

"Why is it so explosive?"

"The arrangement is holding under protest, Captain," Tyne said. "The
whole system's strained. It's designed to collapse."

"The original part of the plant, the Vulcan part, stored energy in
weak cells," Kirk said.

"It was being true to its blueprints," Sulu said. "As the design for
the cell structure had been made by computer, I doubt that Dr. McCoy
could have known it would be an unstable arrangement. It was just bad
luck that the generator he used set off the stored energy."

"Can you and Tyne figure out how this plant has been altered from its
original Vulcan state because, at this point, we still don't have any
proof of Klingon involvement."

Tyne and Sulu exchanged a look, then she said, "We could try."

Kirk nodded. "Start now, then. Borrow who you need from Science and
Medical sections. Mr. Sulu, arrange a relief for the helm."

---

Kirk got the call from engineering early the next morning. After a
quick shower, he grabbed a coffee and headed down to the lower decks.
Scotty and V'Rhsal were in a storage office, sitting at a desk
littered with papers, tapes, and tools. Scotty, grinning proudly,
placed what looked like a shiny, metal coin on the table in front of
Kirk. "There's your generator."

"The neural field generator? That little thing?" Kirk asked.

V'Rhsal also sat. "It is not much bigger than the generator I
originally designed for Leonard."

Kirk glanced at Scotty. "The one you made was a lot larger."

"Aye," Scotty shrugged. "But this is what it's supposed to be, just
beautiful."

V'Rhsal picked the generator up and balanced it on his forefinger.
"Mr. Scott and I tuned it to affect the refined plant tissue."

"And the range?" Kirk asked, eyeing it dubiously.

"It would still need to be off the starship," V'Rhsal said. "However,
I believe it would work within an eleven hundred kilometre range. It
would require shielding with a single vent to avoid affecting the
person operating it."

Kirk scowled. "It looks like a ten credit coin. Are you trying to tell
me that little thing will affect a ship?"

V'Rhsal's dark gaze regarded Kirk dispassionately for a moment. "It
will affect the plant."

Scotty picked it off the Vulcan's finger and held it up to the light
as if he were displaying his first born. "It's a work of art."

"The two of you haven't been into that scotch again?" Kirk warned.

Scotty shook his head. "We haven't had time to celebrate. I think I
may have a wee bottle in the back."

He set the generator on the table, then left the room. Kirk gingerly
picked up the object and regarded it curiously. Finally he looked up
into the Vulcan's indifferent eyes.

"I sure hope this works because Dr. McCoy will be the one out in a
shuttle."

"Leonard told me."

Kirk rose, shaking his head. "Scotty I can understand. He lives for
this. Well, Mr. V'Rhsal, maybe we'll get an opportunity to test this
out soon."

---

They found a Klingon ship that morning. She challenged the Enterprise,
who was conspicuously on the wrong side of the border. Then, for no
reason Kirk could discern, warped back into Klingon space.

"Bizarre," Kirk said.

"Disquieting," Spock commented. "They may be gathering backup."

Three hours later, they came upon a macho Klingon in a small scout
with no sense of perception. McCoy and a pilot, in a shuttle, flew
into the Klingon's blind side. However there was no reaction from the
scout. After putting up with phaser fire, Kirk recalled the Spirit and
retreated into Federation space.

Spock, at the science station, said, "Captain, we could meet with many
Klingon ships before finding one with a plant on board."

"I know. We'll just have to keep trying. We may have to go after the
bigger ships."

"I'm sure the doctor will appreciate your viewpoint," Spock replied.

Two days and seven Klingon ships later, Kirk came upon V'Rhsal in
McCoy's quarters. "I have to ask you something."

The Vulcan's unsettling look fastened on the Captain. Kirk stood his
ground. Holding the dime-sized generator, he asked, "Does this really
work?"

"Yes Captain," V'Rhsal said. "Your own chief engineer verified it."

Kirk rubbed his chin. "I'm risking Dr. McCoy out there and some of
these Klingons can get rather nasty."

"I am aware of the shuttle's complement," V'Rhsal replied. "I regret
that these encounters with the Empire have not been more satisfying
for you."

"I'm trying to prevent a war here," Kirk said. "I'm trying to get
documentation and get out to Station C-6. The original plant did come
from your basement. We still haven't explained that one either."

V'Rhsal, sitting across McCoy's desk, did not answer. Kirk noticed
McCoy, in a chair by the doorway, fidgeting angrily however.

"You can understand that the Romulans are going to ask how the plant
got from point A to point B," Kirk said.

"It is an obvious question," V'Rhsal said.

"Do you have any idea?"

"I do not," the Vulcan replied.

Kirk felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He'd spoken with
V'Rhsal several times since the Vulcan had come on board, but each
time had been brief and unpleasant. Even Spock had been more verbal
when Kirk had first met him.

He decided to try a different route. "When the Romulans ask me who the
Vulcan was that supplied the Klingons, what do you think I should tell
them?"

"The truth, Captain, that you do not possess that knowledge," V'Rhsal
replied tonelessly.

Kirk chose his next words carefully. "If I tell them that, their next
suggestion may be that you come down to the meeting so that they can
cut your balls off."

V'Rhsal did not look the least alarmed. Of course, Kirk thought
glumly, he probably wouldn't know what an alarmed Vulcan did look
like. "Mr. V'Rhsal, since you're on my ship, I am, in a sense,
responsible for you."

"Illogical, Captain. I chose freely to come on board the Enterprise."

Kirk lowered his voice. "Mr. V'Rhsal, I saw the security around your
house. Who else knows the system but you?"

McCoy held up a hand. "Me."

Kirk didn't acknowledge the doctor. Without moving his eyes from the
Vulcan's face, he asked softly, "What about your wife? Where is she?"

"I have no wife, Captain," V'Rhsal said.

"Yes you do," Kirk said. "A geologist. Sah'Sheer. She's allegedly on a
science vessel."

"She is my former wife."

Kirk clamped his jaw. "Mr. V'Rhsal, I'm trying to get to the bottom of
this. It's not only my duty. I giving you the benefit of the doubt
because of your association with Dr. McCoy."

"Captain, if I had any facts, I would impart them to you."

Kirk eyed the Vulcan for a long time before finally rising. "If you
would even tell me your best theory, I would make every effort to help
you prove it." When the Vulcan did not answer, Kirk finally left.

McCoy glanced at V'Rhsal. "I'm getting a little tired of these
'encounters' between the two of you. I can't figure out what's going
on."

"I do not comprehend human motivation, however, he must have seen the
change in you. It is, perhaps, more of a change than he expected from
such a short duration apart."

McCoy frowned. "What change?"

"I see it," the Vulcan said, humoured. "Does your captain know of our
meld?"

"I didn't figure it was his...or anyone's business. But, yes, I told
him. I think we both understand, though we have never spoken of it,
that she might have to be dragged back. When I feel your time coming,
I will tell her. I will go and damnwell move her myself."

"Do you think I could take someone forced to me?"

McCoy looked down. "There will be a time when you won't care one way
or another."

V'Rhsal took a moment to answer. "Leonard, I sent a message to
Sah'Sheer just after you left. I told her that you and I had ended our
meld and...my blood burned."

McCoy glanced up but the Vulcan's face was stolid. "Where is she
then?"

V'Rhsal continued impassively. "I have sent the formal declarations to
her family of my intent to end the marriage. They have not responded.
I may understand their silence as acquiescence."

"But what will you do when...?"

"I have time yet."

"Since she hasn't returned, it sure makes her suspect."

"She has betrayed me. Worse, she has betrayed Vulcan code."

"And Federation laws. My Lord, why?"

"My logic has failed to find an answer."

"Will you inform Vulcan council?"

"I have already," V'Rhsal said.

McCoy frowned. "Then why didn't you tell the Captain?"

"It is proper to go through Vulcan council."

"He thinks it's you!"

"He did before he contacted me to come on board."

"I'm trying to help you," McCoy said. "You're so stubborn!"

V'Rhsal looked amused. "I am a Vulcan. This is our way."

McCoy got up and paced the room. "He doesn't trust you. He doesn't
understand how I can trust you enough to keep going out in that
shuttle."

"Leonard, why do you go out?"

"That's our plant. Do you need to ask?"

"Guilt is valueless."

"Oh please shut up," McCoy said wearily, his back to the Vulcan.

At length, V'Rhsal stood as well and took a few steps to the door. "It
is late, Leonard."

Minutes passed, and still the Vulcan had not left. McCoy finally
turned but V'Rhsal's face was a mask, the eyes hooded and unrevealing.

"Leonard, do you ever think on that one morning and what happened
between us?"

McCoy fastened his eyes on a piece of the floor tiling that had curled
up. "It's kind of hard to forget."

"Leonard, I prefer you."

McCoy felt suddenly sick, right to the pit of his stomach.

"Can it be so?" he asked, hushed.

"However, you told me that you preferred female contact."

"I think..I'd rather have you."

The thread between them quivered.

"Leonard, will you lock your door?"

He complied, moving numbly to enter the code and a sleeping override,
an electronic barrier that would silence all but the captain's
communications. Tentatively, he took those few steps over to the
Vulcan and touched him, felt the alien warmth under his fingers. They
stilled in the gentle contact.

...remarkable, leonard...

McCoy drew a shaky breath at the mind touch.

there is something that humans would do now.

yes.

He ran his fingers up the Vulcan's shirt, brushing the tensed muscle
and the expanse at the collarbone.

when do you return to your sickbay?

tomorrow morning.

V'Rhsal laid his hand on McCoy's.

the beginning of pleasure, leonard.

---

A shrill squeal pierced his ears. McCoy jerked awake to find himself
covered with a tangle of blanket. He groped for the intercom.

"...um...McCoy here."

"Bones, sorry to wake you. We have a possible long-range contact with
a Klingon ship. She's big. Likely a bird of prey," came Kirk's voice.

"Ok. I'll be up soon." McCoy shut off the intercom and turned to see
V'Rhsal awake, his eyes narrowed.

"Again, Leonard?"

McCoy rubbed his eyes. "I'll be damned if anyone goes out in that
shuttle in my place."

"You call me stubborn."

McCoy pushed at him. "Look! I've got two inches between you and the
wall, for heaven's sakes! You always squish me."

V'Rhsal allowed a small smile to soften his brow. "My apologies." As
he loosened the covers so that he could move, his hands grazed the
doctor. A strong surge followed his touch.

"I am honoured that you have permitted me a fulfilment of our bonding.
But, always and at any time, it is your choice too."

McCoy shook his head. "What I have done..."

"What we have done," the Vulcan corrected.

"I've gone down a path I never thought I'd go."

The Vulcan studied him with black eyes, stillness like pondwater.

"V'Rhsal, I'm just wondering idly. Can two males survive pon farr?"

He took a long time to answer. "I do not want that to happen to you."

"Can two males survive?"

"There are male only marriages on Vulcan."

"Many?"

V'Rhsal smiled. "I do not know the exact count." He touched McCoy
again, placing his fingertips to the doctor's in a caress of
familiarity. That which joined them expanded and engulfed.

They had no need to assume the classic mind-meld position, fingertips
to temples, Vulcan superior, Human supine. They were touching, McCoy
knew, but where now? Fingertips, thighs, arms - where else? Everywhere
and nowhere, so strange, this sensation. Where did one's skin end and
the other's begin?

if i knock you up, v'rhsal, i promise i'll do the right thing by you.

McCoy felt V'Rhsal's smile in their minds, laughter like ripples.
Whose synapses? Both, now. The joy of it. The sheer pleasure of the
touching.

why is this so new to you, v'rhsal? didn't you ever make love with
your wife?

translation. human term for sexual act.

McCoy's mentally laughed.

ok, didn't you ever perform a sexual act with your wife?

it was a frenzy. i would not call it love. it was not pleasurable
either.

V'Rhsal felt the human's response to this. Felt something else too,
something deeper, and it was delightfully sexy.

leonard, tell me about human love. tell me about sacrifice. tell me
about needing. tell me how it feels to care for someone so much you
would give your life for them.

So he told him. He told V'Rhsal, then realized the Vulcan already
knew. The old knowledge, buried on a deeper level. But what were
levels to them now? He felt the Vulcan at the deepest part of him, and
that was only the beginning, like touching the sand at the bottom of
the sea, only to find more sand below, and more and more, opening all
of yourself and there was no all, no boundaries, no start, no end.

Someone could have been hammering on the door. McCoy knew he wouldn't
hear. They were too far inner-directed. Outside ceased to exist. There
came only the rhythms and tides of V'Rhsal's mind in his, and his in
V'Rhsal's, and the delicious sensation of their skin on one another.
It was fluid, so ecstatic, this mindsex. He felt a peak building, the
rise of the wave to the tip of the iceberg.

He felt V'Rhsal's crisp thought.

i give you my name, leonard.

He told him his secret name, his lover's name.

what can i give you in return?

this, leonard. what you are giving me. this and this...and this.

And it was breathtaking.

---

A Klingon Bird of Prey sat heavy on the viewscreen. McCoy looked
at it and his heart sank.

Kirk shook his head. "You're not going out this time, Bones."

"Pardon me?" turned at the doctor's tone. "I'm sending someone else."

"Who?" McCoy challenged. "Who else knows how to work the generator?"
There was a flash in the blue eyes unfamiliar to the captain.

Uhura and Spock looked up at the interchange. "I will go," Spock said.

"I can't risk you," Kirk said, still eyeing McCoy in surprise. There
was Scotty, but Kirk could hardly risk that either. If he tried to go
himself, Spock would bring down a whole book of regulations on him.
Still...

"Spock, show me how to work it," Kirk said.

"Regulation two 'a', paragraph 'a', subsection one 'a'," Spock said.
"No commander of a vessel shall, under any circumstances whatsoever,
is to voluntarily and without due recourse-"

"I know what the book says," Kirk snapped. Chekov had turned in his
seat as well.

"Still no answer to our hails," Uhura said.

Kirk gave her half an impatient glance. McCoy was waiting, silent and
oddly defiant.

Kirk finally stood. "Doctor, go get ready. Spock, I'm piloting that
shuttle. You're in command and your first and ONLY priority is this
ship. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Spock replied.

---

McCoy took the co-pilot's seat in the Spirit, the generator in an
enclosed metal case the size of a ring box at his feet. He didn't
speak or even look at Kirk while the latter did a pre-flight check. As
they cleared the hanger doors, Kirk finally broke the silence.

"I hope the damn cloaking device holds good."

"It's worked every time until now," McCoy replied, his voice low.

"Maintaining radio silence." Kirk shut down as many systems as he
could and flew the shuttle clear of the Enterprise and out towards the
Klingon Bird of Prey. "Are you going to turn that thing on?"

"It's already going."

They neared the Klingon ship. She was a huge ship, by any standards,
but it wasn't until they were flying outside it's hull that the sheer
dimensions engulfed them. The harsh breadth of it stunned the senses.
She flew malignantly, facing the Enterprise, matching her movements
inch by inch, breath by breath. It stirred deep feelings of anger in
Kirk to have that monstrosity so near his starship.

"Fifteen hundred kilometres..." Kirk said. "Fourteen hundred...You
ok?"

McCoy started, then turned. The blue eyes were startling, coming to
focus as if he were returning from the fog of a daydream. "Sure. I'm
fine."

Kirk eyed him a few moments more, then returned to the controls.
"Twelve hundred...eleven hun---"

The sky thundered. To Kirk it felt like two cement bricks suddenly
slammed both sides of his head. Then he was looking at his feet. He
caught a blue blur of McCoy, arms flailing, before his head smacked
the floor of the shuttle. Stars burst in his eyelids, a smell of burnt
rubber gagged him, and suddenly he was in floating black and there was
no sound at all.

---

Kirk opened his eyes. A dark moistness stung them. Wincing, he reached
up and pulled a cloth off his brow. Then, in a blurry squint, he
looked carefully around him.

He was still in the shuttle. The red emergency lights were on and the
chairs seemed oddly tilted to his fuzzy balance. He made a move to
rise but stopped as pain stabbed his head.

"Easy."

He tried to turn as McCoy came around in front of him. "Don't move."
The doctor took a reading with his scanner, then hypo-ed something in
Kirk's arm. "You got a bump on the back of your head and you cut your
cheek. That bled like hell. I suspect a mild concussion."

Kirk tentatively rubbed a temple as the pain receded. "How are you?"

"You broke my fall," McCoy managed a shrug. Kirk heard a rumbling
sound, deep as if from far away. "Jim, that ship just blew. I can't
describe it."

"Where are we?"

"I managed to land us on an asteroid. We're cloaked. There's no
atmosphere out there so don't open any doors."

"And the Enterprise?"

"I don't know." McCoy averted his eyes. His shirt was ripped and Kirk
could see a purplish bruise starting on an arm. "I saw bits of the
Klingon ship go by us. A piece tore one of the Spirit's landing pads.
Then they started firing and the Enterprise retaliated, so I got us
out of the way. But our damaged pad was leaking. A Klingon shuttle
chased us." He paused as another rumble vibrated through the metal
floor. "That's them, looking for us." He listened for a few seconds,
then added. "I landed this thing in some sort of hollow and shut the
engines down." He shook his head at the sound of another blast.
"They've been doing that for nearly an hour, hoping to stir us up. A
couple of times I thought they'd actually hit us."

Kirk listened to the sounds of phaser blast for a few moments, then
nodded. "I'd say they're a couple of kilometres out." He studied the
doctor. "You're hurt."

McCoy shook his head. "It's nothing."

Kirk raised himself up, then put both feet on the floor and stood. He
reeled a bit, but it passed and he could walk to the front of the
shuttle.

The console has sustained little damage though the rest of the shuttle
looked as though a fierce wind had battened through it. He tried a few
systems, then relaxed when they came on-line.

"This isn't too bad. We could probably lift-off when our friends
leave."

McCoy straightened his chair, then sat, wincing as he did so. With his
foot, he gently kicked the box that held the generator. "Goddamn
thing."

"Is it off?" Kirk asked.

The doctor nodded.

"Don't kick it anyway."

"Jim, they couldn't have had any warning. What we did...what I
did...there must have been deaths."

"They started it, Bones." Kirk tested a few more systems, then sat
back in his chair. "Spock's probably tracked us. If he's followed
orders, he has a brig full of Klingons and one damaged bird of prey in
tow. When it quiets, we'll decloak and fly out." He touched his cheek.
His fingertips came away bloodied.

"Here."

McCoy tossed a gauze pad to him. His face looked gaunt in the faint
starlight and red lighting.

Kirk glanced once more at the generator. "Are you sure it's off?"

The doctor shrugged. "I disconnected the power source."

"You did, eh?"

McCoy frowned at Kirk's tone. "What does that mean?"

"At the briefing with Sulu and Tyne, you swore up and down you didn't
know a thing about it."

"It doesn't take an engineer to take out a battery and I don't care
for your insinuation."

"The day after V'Rhsal came on board, I got Spock to ask him to
reproduce the plant model and the generator. Do you know what your
partner said?"

At McCoy's scowl, the captain said, "He said only you would be able to
do so." He shifted, painfully stretching his legs out. "However, Tyne
told me that even getting you drunk hadn't worked. She believed that
you couldn't duplicate your own work and I believed her. She and Sulu
have been trying to do it."

"It'll never work. What V'Rhsal and I did was just a fluke."

"Hardly a fluke," Kirk said. "The Klingons seem to be growing a
garden-full."

"If I could have done this any easier, don't you think I would have
instead of risking my ass in this damn shuttle?" McCoy glared. "And
what the hell is that jerk talking about, saying that I could do it
again?"

"Can't you tell me? You're linked with him."

McCoy glowered at Kirk. "You don't understand."

"Then TELL me! That's all I want."

The doctor looked furious. His tone was cutting. "Ok, Captain. Spock
didn't track us, but he didn't have to. V'Rhsal knows exactly where we
are. Unfortunately, they can't come get us because your Vulcan has
neither Klingons in the brig nor Klingons in tow. The Enterprise was
damaged by the explosion. Her shields are down and she can't fight
back." As he stood, a burst of thunder reverberated through the
shuttle, dimming the lights. "They're coming back." He left Kirk
sitting alone at the front of the shuttle.

---

The blasting stopped so quietly that it took Kirk a few minutes to
realize that it was truly over. McCoy returned to the front of the
shuttle as Kirk checked a few systems. But when he went to start the
Spirit, the doctor shook his head.

"Don't. They're still there."

"They'd be pretty low on fuel by now." Kirk was irritated and sick
with worry. His voice could also be cutting. The doctor, however,
simply took a seat.

"What's going on now?" Kirk asked.

McCoy didn't look at him. "The Enterprise doesn't have warp drive.
Apparently neither do the Klingons. Shields still down. She's just out
of firing range of the Klingon ship."

Kirk softened his tone. "That's pretty handy, but it's making you a
little green."

"If by that you mean I look sick, I can believe it," McCoy swallowed.

"Then I'll spare you the one about growing pointed ears." Kirk glanced
through the port but the sky was unrevealing. "Bones, could you get a
message to Spock through V'Rhsal? Does it work like that?"

"I can try."

"Tell him to get my ship the hell out of there."

McCoy was quiet for so long that Kirk glanced over uneasily. When the
doctor opened his eyes, he did look green. "Spock says he'll do the
logical thing."

"Damn him..." Kirk whispered. He stared out the port for a few
minutes, then stood. "I suppose I'd better see what there is for
rations. Want anything?"

"No."

"Sure? Not even reconstituted coffee?"

McCoy shook his head.

Kirk eyed him, troubled, before checking the stores. When he returned
with two cups, he said, "I hate this waiting. It's all I ever seem to
do." After a while, when McCoy still hadn't touched his cup, Kirk
said, "Come on, Bones. What is it?"

The doctor stared out the window. "Have you ever done something you
never imagined you could, an act so remote from what you thought you
were that it just blows your whole sense of self out a porthole?"

"Are you referring to the mind meld?"

"No."

Kirk grinned. "Is this about Dr. Misu?"

"Jim, be serious."

Kirk sipped his coffee. McCoy didn't often open up and this was a rare
opportunity. Carefully, he said, "An extended link with a Vulcan is
the last thing any human would willingly do and you're the last human
I thought would do it."

The doctor finally reached for his cup, his movements stiff and
strained. "I told you it's not about the meld. I'm talking about when
you do something where no one compels you, a decision you make on your
own that astounds you afterwards."

"I understand," Kirk said quietly. "Sometimes, I look back and see
things I've done and I'm shaken right through. Yet I would do the same
again."

"That's not very comforting."

"Bones, you hold so much back, no one can comfort you."

A distant rumble vibrated through the shuttle. "Damn. They're back."

"I wish we had weapons," Kirk looked up as the ceiling shivered. "They
know we're here. They're not going to give up. Spock, damnit. Get that
ship back on line!"

---

McCoy, wide awake, wrapped himself in a sleeping bag and curled up
near the back window. Kirk had fallen into an uneasy sleep some time
ago and he envied it. What moved between him and V'Rhsal now throbbed
heavily. Underneath the constant awareness of the Enterprise, and the
worry, was an almost pleasurable ache. What have you done, Doctor? And
a voice said, I slept with a man. Is this what I put women through all
these years? But it wasn't the same. It was strange to call it
physical for they had hardly moved. But the mental intimacy, the
running of thoughts together like streams of water, the touching of
nerve and fibre, that was the true meaning of sensation, of laying
bare every last cell, every last strand quivering with cerebral
pleasure. He had physically craved it. At the bottom of it, he
discovered this morning that he had never known anything about love or
lovemaking. And, at the bottom of it, he discovered that they knew how
to touch in all the right places.

'I am honoured that you have permitted me a fulfilment of the
bonding.' Then, damnit, he'd got up and started making plans for
finding a wife, just when McCoy was opening his mouth to say, I love
you.

Something nudged his mind. He stood, on legs half-asleep, and walked
over to Kirk's chair.

"Jim, wake up."

Kirk bolted awake, hazel eyes instantly alert.

"What is it?"

"The Romulans have just arrived."

"Damn!" Kirk threw off his blanket and leaned over the console. "Strap
in."

"We're not going up there now?" McCoy started but the Spirit was
already coming alive, her engines pulsating.

"That's my ship." Kirk did a quick pre-check. "How is she by the way?"

"Warp still out. Shields and weapons back up."

Kirk half-grinned. "That's handy."

"Why don't you try it sometime?" McCoy grumbled as he buckled into the
co-pilot's seat.

"I'm not crazy."

McCoy's stomach lurched as the shuttle lifted off and flew clear into
space. The box that held the generator slid under his seat.

"Secure that," Kirk said.

As McCoy groped under the seat, the captain checked the scanners.

"There are three ships out there."

"I told you," the doctor said. Then he happened to look up. "Oh
Jim..."

Battle-wounds scarred the Enterprise. A blackish streak curled over
one of her pylons and continued up around the nacelle. Another one ran
the length of the hanger doors. Worse, however, was the sight of the
Klingon ship, poised between the Enterprise and the Spirit, her hull
pock-marked from the explosion. As the Spirit neared, the Romulan
scout came into view, situated as if at the third point of a triangle,
her red, sleek lines a bitter contrast to the battle-pitted ships
across from her.

Kirk launched the Spirit towards the Enterprise, increasing speed.
McCoy, alarmed, said, "Jim, this isn't a square dance! You can't just
barge in!"

"Ssh!" Kirk opened a radio frequency. "Enterprise."

"This is Captain Spock. Spirit, you are in a dangerous position.
Advise you leave the area."

"I advise you let us in."

McCoy eyed the Romulan and Klingon ships as they neared, expecting to
find phaser bolts ready to slice the shuttle open. Then a curious
thing happened. As they neared the Klingon ship, she swung away,
clearing the path.

"What are they doing? Looking for a better spot to shoot us from?"
McCoy asked.

Kirk frowned. "Maybe they've put it all together - shuttle, plant,
explosion." He kicked the Spirit into overdrive and barrelled towards
the Enterprise. Suddenly he was looking at his feet again. The Spirit
vibrated horrifically as a loud bang rocked her.

McCoy latched onto his seat as Kirk slammed into the controls. The
Spirit spun, then slowly stablized.

"We did it to them again," McCoy said. But as the words came out, the
Klingon ship came into view and nothing on her had changed. The hull
was no worse and she was still moving slowly away.

A booming noise rolled through the shuttle. She rattled violently and,
suddenly, the Enterprise was moving away from them.

"What the hell is that Vulcan doing?" McCoy demanded.

"Tractor beam," Kirk said.

"He's supposed to bring us IN!"

"From the Klingons!" Kirk engaged the Spirit's engines, running them
until they squealed loudly. Smoke rolled out across the floor.
Finally, glumly, Kirk leaned back in his chair. "They tracked us when
I opened the frequency. I guess we're going out to dinner tonight."

The Bird of Prey engulfed their tiny viewscreen as the shuttle was
dragged towards a lighted, open hatch in the belly of the great hulk.

"Only phasers....damn..." Kirk mumbled, looking around the shuttle.
"Nothing to jury-rig."

They bumped down. Another shake indicated the tractor has loosened.
>From outside the Spirit came footsteps, then voices.

McCoy stiffened. "That's not Klingon."

Kirk glanced over. "I don't hear---"

"They're not speaking Klingon. It's---"

The hatch opened and a massive shape filled the doorway. As the shape
bent to enter, the light touched pale skin and elegant, pointed ears.

---

Romulans do not escort. They carry. Kirk and McCoy were hauled to the
small, dim bridge of the Klingon ship and dropped roughly at the feet
of a very tall, smirking Romulan.

"Captain James T. Kirk. How strange to find you in a little shuttle. I
didn't think you ever left the bridge of your ship."

Kirk looked carefully around him. The bridge was manned by five other
Romulans but a single Klingon male was strapped in a chair by the
viewscreen. He returned Kirk's look silently and sullenly.

"You may stand if you wish, Captain Kirk, unless you truly prefer
laying on the floor."

As Kirk brought a knee under him, something crackled. Scattered brown
leaves lay over the floor and the end of a tendril lay coiled around
the base of the centre chair. He looked at the debris curiously.

"Nice of you to come to us," the Romulan said. "We've been looking for
you for quite a while. We almost had hopes that you'd crashed on
impact."

Kirk stood and said quietly, "If my officer and I are hostages, then
you have committed an act of war, Commander."

"Centurion T'svak," the Romulan corrected, but his voice was more
thoughtful. He studied the doctor carefully. "I believe I've seen your
face somewhere."

McCoy tore his gaze away from the plant debris but remained silent.

T'svak reached into his pocket and pulled out something which crinkled
as he unwrapped it. Putting his face up close to the doctor, he said,
"I've discovered the Klingons have this very interesting thing on
board. Would you care to sample it?" He suddenly thrust a brown object
under McCoy's nose. McCoy, startled, jumped back.

T'svak chuckled, then put the object in his mouth. "I believe it's
called chocolate. Klingons hold it in great value since they've only
been able to get it by raiding Federation ships. Eating this is their
one true claim of civilization."

"Centurion," Kirk said, "I trust you have some reason for bringing us
on board."

"Obviously," T'svak said casually but his eyes were still on McCoy.
Then, slowly, he smiled. "Of course. Now I know you. Here I was
believing I would have to rely on information second-hand. By the
goddess, here in front of me is the source of it all. I do know you.
Dr. Leonard McCoy, of the now famous partnership of McCoy and V'Rhsal,
the creators of this new secret weapon which the Klingons have so
blatantly been using on defenceless, little Romulan outposts."

"I'm a physician, not a weapons designer. And Vulcans don't..."

"Vulcans do," T'svak said. "They do indeed. Tell me, Doctor, where is
this fantastic new weapon of yours?"

Dryly, McCoy replied, "You're standing in it."

The Romulan took another bite of the chocolate bar, then strode up to
the centre chair. It crinkled under him as he sat.

"I have little patience, doctor. This weapon of yours has caused many
deaths."

"I know there have been deaths," McCoy said softly. "But there isn't a
weapon, just a---." His voice was cut off by a disrupter in his
throat. Kirk made a move, then saw the weapons were set to kill.

"Let's try that again," T'svak said.

McCoy, angrily, said, "It's a plant, the plant you're sitting in! It
stores energy."

"I'd better report this right away," T'svak said. "The Federation
grows plants that can blow up embassies. And I suppose you also have
trees that launch missiles and small animals that can take out
satellites."

"Why don't you ask the Klingon if you don't believe us?" Kirk said.

T'svak unwrapped another chocolate. "You're slow, Captain Kirk. I see
you've never heard how to have the last word with a Klingon." He
nodded at a guard. Immediately the Klingon was rammed back in his
chair and his mouth forced open. Several of his teeth were missing and
behind them, oozing purplish blood, was a mangled shred of tissue
where the tongue should have been.

---

Kirk tested the forcefield at the exit of the Klingon brig, then
rubbed his hand gingerly. "I have to admit, Klingons build efficient
prison cells."

McCoy, sitting on the end of the one bunk in the small, grey room,
said tiredly, "It may be efficient but they could have at least put in
a bathroom."

Kirk's mind was still on the forcefield. "Perhaps if we used something
metal. McCoy, get in touch with Spock and..."

"I can't."

Kirk turned around. "You did it before, Bones."

"I'm sorry," McCoy said as he leaned back against the wall. "It takes
a lot of concentration and V'Rhsal has to do most of it. I've tried
but he's not there." He closed his eyes. "We've been here over
thirteen hours and Spock's yet to fire a warning shot. I knew he
wanted your command all along."

Kirk stood on the bunk and checked the ceiling panels. "If the
Romulans prove to Organian satisfaction that we developed a weapon,
then they're not violating any treaty by holding us for questioning.
Spock can't act." He finally sat down on the bunk as well and gave
McCoy a strange look. "And if you know Spock hasn't used the phasers,
obviously you're in touch with V'Rhsal at some level."

McCoy didn't answer.

"I wish Spock were here. He's great at breaking jail." Kirk's eyes
roamed over the cell for the hundredth time. "I don't understand why
we've been left here for so long."

"I don't understand why we haven't seen any other Klingons," McCoy
said. "I looked in the other cells as we were passing and we seem to
be the only occupants down here."

"The peace bond has been broken between the Romulan and Klingon
Empires. Under Interstellar treaty, the Romulans have the right to
seize the Klingon ship. Maybe the Klingons are on the scout."

"I hope so. That chocolate-eating, son-of-a-creepworm seems
particularly bloodthirsty."

The Captain glanced at McCoy. The doctor looked white with fatigue.

"Bones..."

There was a long silence. Finally McCoy said, "The talks at Station
C-6 have failed. Spock's been in touch with T'svak twice to warn him
about the plant. T'svak still maintains that we've fabricated a story
about an exploding bush as a cover for a new weapon. He also denies
finding any evidence of the plant at all despite the fact that he's
sitting in it and Spock can see it during visual transmission."

He opened his eyes to find Kirk looking half-amused, half-awed.

"I hope it blows up right under his ass," Kirk said.

"Oh, and he's still eating candy. Spock interprets that as a gesture
of rudeness."

Kirk leaned back against the wall but his gaze was still on the
doctor. "Once, only once, Spock and I melded for an extended period.
It was when we boarded the Romulan ship to steal the cloaking device
and he suggested it as a safety device, to keep us in touch. After a
day I found I had a vague awareness of where he was. It never went
further than that. But you're repeating things to me almost word for
word."

McCoy looked away. "I suspect that Spock has, considerately, never
really melded. The difference between what he's done and this is like
the difference between a pushpin and a yardspike."

The forcefield quivered then disappeared. T'svak stood in the doorway.

"Did you sleep well?"

When he didn't get an answer, he smiled. "I suppose not, with only one
bunk. Still, it's warm in here. No rodents. Doctor McCoy, I've come to
ask you once more about your latest creation and I don't want to hear
any more lies about leaves that blow up."

Kirk stood. "We've offered you the truth. The evidence is on this
ship. You have no right to hold us."

"Captain, you will be escorted back to your shuttle within the hour.
However I do have a right to hold the doctor. The Romulan Empire has
issued a warrant for him and the Vulcan on charges of conspiracy,
illegal weapons distribution, complicity, and sabotage. I have been
ordered to take the doctor to intergalactic court where we will file
for extradition papers to remove him to Romulan jurisdiction. By the
way, doctor, where is your partner? On Vulcan?"

"I'd like to see this warrant," Kirk demanded.

"We'd all like a great many things, Captain. Unfortunately, we don't
often get them." T'svak gestured behind him. Two guards entered the
cell. "Return Captain Kirk to his shuttle and make sure he returns to
open space. Dr. McCoy will be returning with us to our ship."

"Under intergalactic treaty, I am to be assured of the validity of the
warrant."

T'svak shrugged. "You are not on the starship, Kirk. The warrant was
shown to Captain Spock."

"AND I have the option of taking my own personnel to intergalactic
court!" Kirk continued.

"Since said personnel is already on my ship, you don't have the option
of demanding him back."

Kirk, furious, took a deep breath. "This isn't your ship."

"Legally, when I seize a ship, I have the right to hold any and all on
it."

"Federation personnel with outstanding warrants can have a Starfleet
guard accompaniment."

"An accompaniment which I can deny," T'svak said. "Give it up,
Captain."

Kirk glanced at McCoy. The doctor, in a soft tone, said, "He's lying,
Jim."

T'svak raised his voice. "Take Kirk!"

"Wait!" Kirk barked back, grabbing McCoy's arm. "Bones..."

"Spock hasn't agreed to this. That's why we've been in here so long."

"He doesn't have to agree to it, Doctor. It's the law," T'svak said.

"Spock has a problem with the warrant," McCoy started but Kirk was
hauled away by the Romulan guards.

"The only problem is between that Vulcan's ears," T'svak retorted as
he stepped out of the cell. Kirk's last view of McCoy was a backward
glance before the forcefield shimmered into the doorway.

"I had better get a look at that warrant now!" Kirk ordered. "Or I
will be incredibly less-restrained that Captain Spock when I return to
my bridge."

T'svak shoved Kirk through a hatchway into the shuttle bays, then
opened the Spirit and pushed him up the plank.

"You'll find the cloaking device has been disassembled but we did fix
the stabilizer. Have a safe trip, Captain."

The hatch was thrown closed, then jammed from the outside. Kirk
struggled with it for a few minutes, then stilled as the hiss of the
atmospheric depressurizers sounded.

"Damn!" He sat in the pilot's chair, going over his options. The
intercom crackled and T'svak's voice came over the line.

"Captain, the hatch doors may not remain open for too much longer and,
with all the damage to this poor Klingon ship, I may not be able to
return atmosphere to the hanger deck."

Kirk started the Spirit and flew her, angrily, out the hanger doors.
He had no real wish to return to the Enterprise but he'd barely
cleared the Bird of Prey when a tractor beam grabbed him and repelled
him roughly towards the Enterprise.

"This has barely started, T'svak," he muttered, leaning toward the
intercom. Static answered him.

By the time he landed the Spirit and got to the bridge, he'd
formulated seven plans of attack. Unfortunately, none of them were
legal.

Spock rose from the command chair as Kirk entered. "McCoy's still over
there." Kirk told him. "If he'd known V'Rhsal was on board, I probably
would have been held for an exchange."

"Centurion T'svak has not yet transmitted a copy of the warrant,"
Spock said. "The transporter room has a fix on Doctor McCoy but we
cannot beam him in while the Klingon shields are in operation."

"How are we?"

"We sustained relative damage from the explosion. All systems are now
back on line, including warp drive." Spock returned to his science
station. "We have been scanning the Romulan scoutship. Due to the
inclement relative sizes of it and the Bird of Prey, I suspect T'svak
deemed it imperative to board with as many of his crew as possible.
One life form remains on the scoutship. Regular crew complement is ten
to twelve."

Kirk eyed the viewscreen. "This presents possibilities."

Spock continued. "Twelve minutes after the Romulans boarded the
Klingon ship, there was further transporter activity back to the
scoutship. However, the life form reading did not change. I assumed
that T'svak had found the plant, or what remained of it, and beamed it
to his ship. I contacted him to warn him of the danger. Illogically,
he denied knowledge of the plant."

"That's the logic of war," Kirk said.

"Captain, we are not at war."

"T'svak is."

Spock considered for a moment. "He is treading a fine legal line but
he has not entirely stepped over it."

"Transporter activity, Captain," Sulu said.

"Confirmed," Spock said. "It is coming from the Klingon ship. Their
shields are lowering."

Uhura opened a line to the transporter room. "Mr. Kyle, stand by
please."

"Do you have a fix on McCoy?" Kirk asked.

"Yes," Spock bent over his scanner. "Their shields are down."

"Now, Kyle," Uhura said.

There was a tense moment. Finally Kyle's voice came over the intercom.
"I'm sorry, Uhura. I couldn't pull him out of their transporter beam."

"Reading seven life forms on the Romulan scoutship," Spock said. "One
human. Screens are up. They have a tractor beam on the Klingon ship. I
read engine activity."

"Impulse only," Sulu said.

"Course?"

Sulu bent over the helm. "Seven three six mark two. They're headed
towards the neutral zone."

"Match Enterprise speed and direction with them."

"Aye, Captain."

Kirk glanced at Uhura. "Lieutenant, send a tight-beam transmission to
Organia. Include the past two days logs and ask them for an emergency
grievance hearing. Refer to Dr. McCoy as a hostage."

"Right away, sir."

Kirk hesitated, eyeing the viewscreen. Then he got up and went up to
the science station. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, "Spock,
what are the odds that T'svak did transport the plant to his ship?"

"Considering Romulan intelligence, known search methods, and mode of
operations, I would estimate eighty three percent."

"The generator isn't in the Spirit. McCoy has it." Kirk glanced once
more at the viewscreen. "Where's V'Rhsal? He's got to warn Bones."

"Kór V'Rhsal is in engineering with Mr. Scott."

"Get hold of him." Kirk walked over to Uhura's station. "Lieutenant,
open a channel to the Romulan ship please."

"It's open, sir."

"Centurion T'svak. This is Captain James Kirk of the Federation
Starship Enterprise. If you do not transmit a copy of the warrant for
my officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy, within the next minute, I will be
forced to take measures. Respond."

There was no answer.

"I know they received the transmission," Uhura said.

Kirk returned to his command chair. "Yellow alert, Mr. Sulu. Phasers
at quarter strength. Put a shot in their path."

"On your command, Captain," Sulu said.

"Now."

The phaser bolts flew across the scoutship's nose. She continued on
her way steadily.

"Nudge them, Mr. Sulu."

The scoutship rocked under the phaser fire.

"She's stopped," Sulu said. "They're powering up their phaser banks."

Kirk nodded at Uhura, then spoke. "T'svak, I wouldn't advise it. You'd
better hurry up with that warrant."

"Transmission coming in, Captain," Uhura said. "Audio only to hard
copy."

"Let's see it," Kirk said.

Spock pulled the tape from Uhura's board and relayed it through his
station. "It is the warrant, Captain." He paused, studying his
scanner. "It does appear legal."

"Damn," Kirk swore quietly.

"They've resumed course and speed," Sulu said. "Sixteen point five
hours to neutral zone."

Spock turned. "Captain, if the warrant was indeed authorized,
Centurion T'svak had no reason to withhold it. Advise confirmation of
the court signatures."

"Go ahead." Kirk rubbed his eyes, then returned to the science
station. "Let's see it, Spock."

As the Vulcan scrolled through the legalese-ramblings of the warrant,
Kirk's anger got deeper. "How can they accuse him if they haven't got
evidence of a weapon?"

"They have evidence of what it does," Spock started but Kirk had
suddenly straightened.

"Captain?"

Kirk, smiling, turned to Uhura. "Lieutenant, tell Sub-Centurion T'svak
that if he does not hold position, I'll be forced to blow him out of
the sky."

"In those words, sir?" she asked, grinning.

"Well, in your own." Kirk crossed the deck. "Sulu, full power to
phasers."

---

T'svak came on screen a moment later, looking angry. "Captain, what IS
the problem now?"

"It's this way, T'svak. If I had such an officer as Dr. John Leonardo
McCoy, I would certainly deliver him into your sweet hands."

"A misspelling does not negate the integrity of the warrant, Kirk!"

"No, but you do need to wait for a corrected one to be issued. In the
meantime, why don't we just hang around this part of space? It'll give
you a chance to hoard the rest of the chocolate from the Klingon
ship."

T'svak shut off the transmission. Kirk turned to Sulu. "Bring weapons
to bear on the scoutship. If they so much as twitch, go across their
bow again."

"Yes, sir."

As Kirk started for the turbo lift, he added, "Spock, you have the
con. I'll be in engineering. If we get any word from Organia, let me
know."

---

McCoy sat on the edge of a chair, scowling. T'svak's guards had dumped
him into this cabin over two hours ago, then left without a word.
Actually, they'd shoved him through the doorway. He caught his hand on
the desk which delayed his rushing back to the door only to find that
they'd locked it. His arm, cut deep, had bled heavily for nearly ten
minutes and still oozed now. Out of protest, he let it run on the
white carpeting and, as he watched, another red drop ran over his
wrist and fell, silently, into a growing stain by his feet.

He glanced around. The cabin was actually very nice, probably
officer's quarters. A long desk faced a wall of ornate shelving on
which were a few plants and a long, garish sword. A computer terminal
sat on a smaller desk and behind him, in a darkened, inner room, was a
large, swelling bed covered in a pink and grey comforter. The bathroom
was also rather elaborate with a tub that could fit two and tiled
mirrors on the wall.

He'd turned on the computer earlier but soon gave up in frustration at
the Romulan symbols on the screen. The intercom didn't seem to work,
or else they were ignoring him. The door wouldn't budge.

Why they'd left him alone in such a fancy cabin, he couldn't fathom.
The brig and an unpleasant interrogation session was more in line
though, at this point, he still hadn't ruled it out.

The door chimed. McCoy, surprised, eyed it for a few moments before
saying hesitantly, "Come in."

The door opened to reveal a large orang-utan of a guard. "Time to eat,
Human."

He stepped back and a slight, long-haired Romulan woman entered with a
tray. She smiled at him as she set it down on one of the desks. "Are
you hungry?"

"No."

"I thought you might be by now. Look at you!"

He pulled back at her sudden exclamation, and followed her gaze down
to his hand. "Sorry. I bled on your carpet."

She disappeared in the bathroom, then returned with a basin of water.
Kneeling in front of him, she wet a cloth and pressed it against his
wrist. "Did the guards do this?"

"No, the desk."

"Hmm." She inspected the wound. "It should be closed. I will have you
escorted to our sick lab."

McCoy resisted pulling back from her touch. "If you don't mind, who
are you?"

"Arhal." She looked at him and smiled again. "What is your first name?
John or Leonard?"

"John."

She shook her head. "It does not suit you." She was still rubbing his
wrist with gentle pressure. "John Leonard David McCoy, M.D. was the
name on the warrant. But your Captain did call you...Bones."

"He's funny that way. He has this thing about names."

Arhal stood then pulled out a chair for herself. "I should tell you.
You are on the Romulan Scoutship Nehaŕn and we are currently holding
position in Olvad's Cradle, sector three. The Enterprise, forced to
recognize intergalactic treaty by the Organians, left the area a few
minutes ago. We will be here another three days while we await a
Romulan contingent."

"So I'm an official hostage now," McCoy muttered.

"Don't blame your Captain. He has to give way under the laws." Arhal
picked up a plate. "Try some. I do not want you ill."

"I'm not hungry," McCoy replied, softening his tone.

"What may I call you? Bones?"

"If you want."

Arhal leaned forward and laid a hand on his unhurt arm. "I will tell
you why you are here."

"To be tortured miserably before death?"

"Romulans do not torture. It is not our way." She pulled at a rip on
his sleeve. "You are bruised here too, on this arm. But it is older.
Did your Captain do this to you earlier?"

McCoy eyed her, not replying. Finally she pulled back. "I will have to
find some more comfortable clothing for you. Bones, you and the
Vulcan, Engineer V'Rhsal, have created a weapon which was delivered to
the Klingons. If you had made this weapon and kept it on your own
planet, it would not matter."

"I didn't create a weapon nor did I deliver any weapons to any
Klingons."

Arhal met his eyes. Hers were vivid green and reflected like a cat's
in the cabin lighting. "I believe you did not intentionally create a
weapon but the results of your work are clearly destructive. Your
Captain has said that your work was stolen from Vulcan. This I also
believe. But the work was taken and used on Romulan outposts. The
Romulan Empire has issued a warrant for your arrest. You will not be
trailed in a court but it is our right to have you duplicate your work
in our labs." She stood. "In the meanwhile, I can give you comfortable
living quarters. Our physician will affix a transponder in your arm.
This will allow you the freedom of the ship's halls without constant
guard. I advise you, though, to stand clear of any restricted areas.
You have been on Romulan ships on the past so I assume you know what a
restricted sign looks like."

"Arhal," McCoy stood as well and looked down at her. "Just what is
your position on this ship?"

"I am a visitor," she admitted. "My ship will soon be here."

"Your ship or the ship you serve on?"

She smiled again, a smaller, warmer grin. "I am Commander Arhal and my
vessel is the Flag Ship Rhiannsu-Traal. I gave up these quarters on
this ship for you and that is no small honour, Bones. I trust you will
be appreciative enough to reward me by your work in the lab."

McCoy rubbed his wrist. "Commander, I would be happier in your brig."

"You are a gallant liar, Bones."

"And I don't want your physician to put anything in me anywhere."

"Don't push me or he may put the transponder somewhere other than your
arm."

McCoy sighed. "The big thing is, it took both me and the Vulcan to do
what we did. I'm not sure if I can recreate it on my own."

"Unless you wish me to deliver you to Romulan High Council, you will
try. Eat now, Bones. In fifteen minutes you will be taken to sick
labs." She left, her lithe form moving lightly through the doorway.
McCoy sat down glumly as the door shut. He knew, thanks to the link,
that she was also a gallant liar. However, the Romulans were no idle
threat when they could well take what they felt equitable from his own
mind. His work had been used, somehow, as a weapon. The Romulans had
the right to demand he share it with them.

He scratched at his face. His mouth felt gummy.

"What the hell did she leave?" he said to himself, pulling the tray to
him. There was some kind of purplish meat, yellow tubular vegetables,
and an assortment of red leafy things. But it smelled all right and
finally, in resignation, he ate it.

---

The physician was a dark, brooding Romulan who didn't say a word to
him. He fixed up McCoy's hand, checked him over quickly, then injected
the transponder. Arhal stood by the whole time, watching the board,
her face unreadable. When he was allowed to stand, she motioned the
guards away and said, "That was not so bad, Bones."

"No animal likes to be tagged," he retorted, but the gruffness in his
voice surprised even him.

"Come to the lab." She strode out of the room and he followed quickly.
The corridors were smaller than on the Enterprise but deserted and
they were able to descend the levels quickly.

"I have accommodated a computer in standard for you. The intercom is
connected to my room and you will inform me of your needs for
equipment and supplies. You will make these requests to no other but
me."

"And T'svak?"

"Has no choice," she shrugged, "though he would rather be overseeing
you himself."

"I thought he was a centurion."

She laughed. "In his dreams." She stepped into the middle of the lab.
"You may decide your own rest and work periods however, the more
quickly you provide a working model of the weapon, the sooner you will
return to your ship. If anyone enters this lab excepting myself, you
will immediately inform me." She walked around the room. "Is there
anything you immediately require?"

"I have no guarantee that you will return me to my ship, even if I
manage to recreate this work by myself."

"You do. I have said it is so." Arhal came up to him. "A Romulan's
word is as good as a Vulcan's. We both hold honour highly. Now tell me
what you require to begin work."

"On the Klingon bridge, I noticed organic debris, specifically
leaves."

"Bones, I find it difficult to see a plant responsible for the
destruction on the Klingon ship."

"If your scientists had studied the make up of those leaves, you would
see the possibility." He studied her, looking for a reaction, and was
rewarded with a frown. The Romulans would have studied the leaves
despite any claims to the contrary.

"I need that debris," he added.

"It will be delivered." Arhal left.

---

McCoy worked the rest of that day. Arhal, herself, delivered the meals
and he saw no one else. This was a military secret and he could
understand her caution. But, he thought angrily, it was wasted
caution. He could no more grow another plant than he could grow
another leg. For her sake, he kept busy. When she delivered the
leaves, he forced himself to focus on them.

"The chemical structure of the plant has been modified," McCoy said.
"My original design comprised Vulcan organics but the atomic
relationship has been in a way I don't recognize. I believe the
Klingons enhanced the energy-storing capacity of the plant tissue on
their own initiative."

Arhal was silent. When he finally looked over to her, he found her
eyes were studying him thoughtfully. "Bones, those leaves do not store
enough energy to toast a tuber."

"Put enough of them together and they'll toast a ship's hull."

"How many leaves would that require?"

McCoy hesitated, then admitted, "The plant the Enterprise first found
on a Klingon ship was over nineteen kilometres long."

"Can you grow a plant from these leaves?"

"I don't think so," he said. "I need the stamen part of the stem in
order to reproduce it. If I had, say, more of the plant."

"There is no more on the Klingon ship."

"You mean, there isn't any more there now," McCoy said softly, looking
steadily into the green eyes. When she didn't answer, he continued,
"Arhal, I can demonstrate, even with the few leaves here, that they
were altered with something that does not grow on Vulcan. I can also
attest, and the Vulcan Science Academy can witness, that the plant the
V'Rhsal and I grew was based on a model of a brain stem and was
designed for no other purpose than straight medical research. We had
no intent to create weaponry and that's obvious by the fact that we
kept the damn thing in the basement of his house and we both slept
there with it. Once the Organians are made aware of these facts, I
have no doubt that they will order my immediate return to the
Enterprise."

Arhal didn't back down. "Bones, why were you and your Captain out in a
shuttle?"

He blinked. "It was the Captain's idea, but it had nothing to do with
the plant. He had a plan and it failed."

"Oh?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I believe that the Klingons had
the weapon, whatever it may be, but not the detonator. I think that
you and the Captain carried that detonator on the shuttle, therefore,
it was something with a limited range. A detonator implies a fuse and
implies that you were treating something on the Klingon ship as a
weapon and not as stolen medical research."

"Once the Klingons modified it, we sure as hell treated it as
something dangerous but---"

"Bones, when we searched the shuttle, we did not find any evidence of
a detonator. I assumed that you and the Captain had jettisoned it on
that asteroid. That may also be what the Organians assume." She
stroked his arm as if she was petting a dog. Her tone was commanding.
"Bones, you will be with me for some time."

"Then you're going to have to get me a stem."

"If I can find one."

"It shouldn't be that hard. You can start by looking on this ship."

She suddenly laughed. "You may be human but you have a backbone."

She did not return with anymore of the plant that evening and,
finally, he gave up his fruitless puttering and walked out to the
hallway. A Romulan in a doorway eyed him but did not return his
greeting. On the plus side, neither did the guard follow him. An
announcement sounded over the intercom in Romulan, which he didn't
understand. Static drowned out half of it and even the engines sounded
alien.

McCoy walked up the levels to his room, passing no one else. A bottle
of Romulan ale and a glass had been left on a desk but there was no
other sign of entry.

"Of all damn things," he mumbled. He wasn't sure if, despite the
transponder, he was under surveillance, but if he was...

He uncorked the decanter and drank out of it, ignoring the glass. Then
he lay down on top of the covers in the bed. It was hot in the room,
almost stifling and he wondered if Romulus had the same climate as
Vulcan. That awful, awful heat, just pressing down on you. It was a
wonder he hadn't got heat stroke.

He rolled onto his stomach, felt the sweat itch under him, but more
than that he felt restless and heavy. Uneasiness had been gnawing at
him all day. He didn't know if it was coming from him or from
somewhere else.

Closing his eyes, he reached inward.

v'hrsal...

ike trying to listen through the staticky intercom, he could barely
find the Vulcan.

damnit, don't leave me like this!

Electric shocks, then...

leonard.

Like a gust of hot air, he recoiled.

what's going on?

the organians have not yet responded. we are waiting.

do you know what they want me to do?

i know.

i can't.

try.

v'rhsal, i feel very strange. my hands are shaking. when i try to
focus on things, it seems like they're moving. i feel like...you won't
understand, but i want to rip their pointed ears off their heads with
my bare hands.

give them what they desire, then return to me.

i can't recreate the model. they're not going to believe it's a plant
anyway.

we will do it together.

McCoy took a deep breath and hugged his face into the pillow.

---

He was throwing up when he heard the sound of the door. A moment
later, Arhal's voice came from behind his back.

"Too much ale, Bones?"

Fearing it would only make him gag more, he refrained from retorting
to her humorous tone. She wet a cloth, then wiped his forehead.
"Perhaps a strong coffee will settle your stomach. I have some that
did not come from the ship's reconstitutor."

McCoy pulled back from her curiously cool touch and managed a single
word. "Why?"

She laughed. "Human, you are dense. You give me that weapon. My empire
gives me a fleet!"

He swallowed. "I've told you what it is. If you'll just let me prove
it to you."

"Tell me, Bones. What did you and your Captain carry out in that
shuttle?"

"We carried us."

"And?"

"Just us. We were hoping to retrieve the plant." A spasm of pain ran
over him. He bore it out with an expressionless face, hoping he was
hiding it from her.

Arhal's steady look ran over him. "Bones, I'm going to ask you again
and before you answer, consider this. There is more than one on this
ship who wouldn't mind watching an accident happen to you. I'm all
that stands in their way." She stepped back. "What was in the
shuttle?"

"The detonator."

"Good. Make me one."

"I can't. I'm not an engineer."

"But you designed it."

"No, he did."

"He who? The Vulcan?"

"Yes, the Vulcan. I'm just a doctor. I keep telling you."

"What kind of a detonator was it? Chemical? Electrical? Plasmic?"

"Electrical, of a sort. It's use forced breaches of energy pockets in
the plant."

At her silence, he said, "Arhal, if you want proof, you're going to
have to give me that plant you took from the Klingon ship. If you
don't, I warn you that I am just going to spend my time walking around
this ship until an accident does happen." He looked her in the eye. "I
do know what security areas look like so, believe me, I know where to
walk."

---

continued in the 'Trust of A Bonding' III