Part 18 (1/2)

Kirk nodded. ”I don't have any choice, Mister Scott-Scotty.” The engineer didn't chastise him for employing the nickname. ”There's far more at stake here than you yet realize. And I can't do anything about it if I'm stuck here on this planet.” He smiled thinly. ”No matter how convivial the company or engaging the surroundings.”

Only one of those present protested the chosen course of action. It was clear that the alien did not want his human a.s.sociate to leave. Excited at the prospect of not only escaping the backwater that was Delta Vega but at the chance to acquire actual proof of a notion with which he had been toying for years, Scott gently rea.s.sured his fellow officer that all would be well. Unable to sway his friend, the alien responded understandingly but with obvious regret.

As the Vulcan rose from the console chair, Kirk confronted him uncertainly. His att.i.tude toward his savior was still a confused mix of grat.i.tude, awe, and uncertainty.

”You're coming with us?”

”No, Jim. May I call you Jim?”

”Sure, I guess.” Coming from this elder incarnation of Spock it sounded...odd. Odd, but nice, Kirk decided.

”My destiny lies along a different path,” the Vulcan told him. ”You must make your own without me. The situation in which we find ourselves is unprecedented and fraught with potential danger. My presence as you seek to determine your future would present complications whose consequences cannot be foreseen and which, I feel, are best avoided.”

It was not the response Kirk had been hoping for. ”Your destiny can wait. He He won't believe me. Only won't believe me. Only you you can explain wha-” can explain wha-”

The Vulcan cut him off. ”Under no circ.u.mstances can the one to whom we are referring be made aware of my existence. You must promise me this.” You must promise me this.”

Kirk struggled to keep up with the possible ramifications while simultaneously trying to persuade his rescuer to change his mind.

”You're telling me I can't tell you you I'm following I'm following your own orders your own orders? Why not? What happens if I do?”

Spock moved closer. ”Trust me, ”Trust me, Jim. Above all, this is the one rule you cannot break. To stop Nero, you alone must take command of your s.h.i.+p.” Jim. Above all, this is the one rule you cannot break. To stop Nero, you alone must take command of your s.h.i.+p.”

Kirk's expression was grim. ”Over your dead body?”

”Preferably not,” the elder Spock replied. ”There is, however, Starfleet Regulation Six-nineteen.” When Kirk failed to respond, the Vulcan sighed knowingly. ”Yes, I forget what little regard you had for such things. Six-nineteen states that any commander who is emotionally compromised by the mission at hand must forthwith resign his command.”

Kirk frowned uncertainly. ”So I need to emotionally compromise you?”

”Jim,” the elder Spock told him gravely, ”I just lost my planet, my whole world. I am am emotionally compromised. What emotionally compromised. What you you must do is get me to-show it.” must do is get me to-show it.”

Kirk considered this. Quietly, carefully, and intently.

”Hmm.”

An equally intent but far more ebullient voice sounded behind him. ”Aye, then! Live or die, laddie, let's get this over with! The Enterprise Enterprise has decent food service facilities, I'm guessing.” Whistling to himself, the engineer headed for the transporter pad. has decent food service facilities, I'm guessing.” Whistling to himself, the engineer headed for the transporter pad.

Kirk started to follow, then looked behind him. ”You know, coming back in time, changing history, informing someone in the past about what's happened in the future-that might be construed by an impartial onlooker as cheating.” cheating.”

”A trick I learned from an old friend.” Stepping back, the elder Spock retreated toward the transporter console. Before taking the seat, he raised one hand with the fingers separated into pairs. Kirk took up a stance on the pad beside the whistling engineer.

”Live long, and prosper,” the old Vulcan told the young lieutenant.

Then he sat down and activated the transporter. Both men dematerialized. When, where, and whether they would be reconst.i.tuted he did not know for a certainty. He knew that Montgomery Scott's equations were valid. Spock could only hope that his own computations were applicable.

If they were not, if they were off by more than the four meters he had calculated, then nothing else would matter. Ever.

XV

There was no one present in the open engineering bay to hear the steady, powerful hum of the s.h.i.+p's engines. Maintenance was busy elsewhere, still battling to repair the last of the serious damage that had been incurred in the fight with the Narada. Narada. At the moment no technicians were on hand in the vicinity of central cooling and water distribution, a largely automated corner of the s.h.i.+p that required little attention. At the moment no technicians were on hand in the vicinity of central cooling and water distribution, a largely automated corner of the s.h.i.+p that required little attention.

So it was that there was no one present to see the twin vertical columns of lambent particulate matter that swiftly solidified into the shapes of two human beings.

One of those figures stumbled, gasping, to look down at itself in amazement. I am intact, I am intact, Kirk realized. His brain and attendant mechanical parts had all survived the impracticable, implausible journey in one piece. As he rose and began to slip out of his cold-weather outer clothing, a quick look around revealed that he was indeed in the engineering section of a stars.h.i.+p. While no identification was readily at hand, he had little reason to doubt it was the Kirk realized. His brain and attendant mechanical parts had all survived the impracticable, implausible journey in one piece. As he rose and began to slip out of his cold-weather outer clothing, a quick look around revealed that he was indeed in the engineering section of a stars.h.i.+p. While no identification was readily at hand, he had little reason to doubt it was the Enterprise. Enterprise. If the elder Spock had managed the transport, surely he had also succeeded in putting them aboard their target vessel. Engineer Scott would confirm it. If the elder Spock had managed the transport, surely he had also succeeded in putting them aboard their target vessel. Engineer Scott would confirm it.

Where was was Engineer Scott? Engineer Scott?

Looking around anxiously, Kirk searched among the huge tubes and conduits for his enthusiastic if unlikely subs.p.a.ce traveling companion. He turned only when he heard a faint banging. His eyes went wide as he located the source.

Scott had rematerialized equally intact and energetic-but inside one of the cooling tanks.

As a stunned Kirk looked on, pressure shoved the wide-eyed engineer upward and into a crosswise conduit. Trapped like a worm in a hose, cheeks bulging, Scott was spun sideways with Kirk in pursuit. Fists pounding desperately on the transparent unbreakable composite, the engineer could see Kirk but not reach out to him.

Racing along below, a frantic Kirk looked ahead in search of an access. Instead of a port or sampling cylinder his eyes fell on the main coolant distribution chamber. If the trapped Scott made it that far, he would not have to worry about drowning: the greatly increased pressure in the chamber would crush him and distribute the pieces to different parts of the s.h.i.+p.

If he didn't do something quick, quick, the the Enterprise' Enterprise's maintenance engineers were going to find some unpleasant clogs in various corners of the s.h.i.+p's hydrologic system.

No tools were at hand-not that the tough, durable synthetic of which the coolant tubes were made would yield to hammering driven by mere human muscles anyway. There, just off to one side-a control panel. But did it offer access to the right right controls? When only one option presents itself, decision-making becomes easy. He made for it as fast as his feet would carry him. controls? When only one option presents itself, decision-making becomes easy. He made for it as fast as his feet would carry him.

Beneath his pounding fingers a schematic of the complete cooling system offered itself up for inspection. Which conduit, which direction, which valve...? A sideways glance showed that if he didn't do something fast it would no longer matter-Scott's lungs would fill with water before his body even reached the distribution chamber.

Try something, something, Kirk shouted at himself. His fingers stabbed wildly at the console. Kirk shouted at himself. His fingers stabbed wildly at the console.

On the bridge a small portion of a usually unimportant display suddenly went from green to red. Chekov frowned at it, fingered a couple of controls, and double-checked before daring to report.

”Keptin, we're detecting unauthorized access to one of the auxiliary cooling tank control boards.” He checked his console. ”Appropriate retrieval code was not entered.”

One eyebrow rose sharply. ”Auxiliary cooling?”

Chekov eyed his console again. ”Yes, Keptin. Perhaps the technician on site forgot to punch in his identification.”

The acting captain considered. ”Perhaps. What is the board's current status?”

”Still in use, Keptin. And there is something else. The sequences that are being entered: from an engineering standpoint they seem almost-random.”

Spock nodded curtly. ”Someone is being derelict in their duty. Or...” He paused, pondering. ”Send a security team to check it out. Tell them to take sidearms. Set to stun.”

”Aye, Keptin.” Chekov issued the necessary order.

Kirk forced himself to take a mental step backward. ”Okayokay-comeoncomeoncomeon-think. Pretend you're in the relevant simulator.” His fingers moved again; slower and more a.s.sured this time. With purpose instead of panic. ”Manual control; enabled. Pressure; calculated. Emergency pressure release; located.” Pretend you're in the relevant simulator.” His fingers moved again; slower and more a.s.sured this time. With purpose instead of panic. ”Manual control; enabled. Pressure; calculated. Emergency pressure release; located.”