Star Trek The Original Series - 05 - The Prometheus Design by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671723668
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 1988-11-15T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Kirk came onto the bridge. Everyone except Captain Spock turned to look at him. Mr. Dobius escorted him, on orders from Spock not to let Kirk out of his sight.

Word had run through the ship like fire. Kirk knew it. They all knew it. Savaj had accused him of murder. And Spock, if he did not believe it, had at least not defended him.

Or—did Spock believe it? And was it, in some vestibule of hell, even true?

Kirk had gone round and round with that one. He was morally certain that he was not guilty of attempting murder—not on any level or for any reason. Certainly not of Spock. However, he had to face the fact that if he were guilty, he would be equally certain of his innocence. If the alien effect could force him to attempt murder, it could make him forget that he had done it.

“Commander Kirk reporting as ordered, Captain,” he said. He saw looks of sympathy around the bridge, worry. Uhura, Sulu, Chekov. Were there any doubts?

Spock turned briefly in acknowledgment. “You may assume your post, Mr. Kirk. You remain under close arrest, subject to further punishment. Mr. Dobius, you will remain close at hand.”

Spock turned back and Dobius stood stolidly as Kirk slipped into the science seat. At least, whatever Spock believed, he had brought Kirk out of quarters. To keep an eye on him? The better to consider what punishment was suitable—not only for saving Spock’s life, but for killing him?

Kirk wanted to brood. But he wanted even more to figure out what had happened, stop it before it happened again. He ran every kind of computer search he could think of. It kept coming up with his name.

Kirk himself kept coming up with it. He alone knew just how badly he had been turned inside out and upside down at some deep level by the two encounters with the aliens. The guilt, the shame, the rage were still there, multiplied a hundredfold now, sitting just beneath the surface and threatening to engulf what was left of his sanity.

Savaj might be absolutely right. It was given to few men, perhaps to no man, to have a friendship such as he had had with Spock. He had never dealt with Spock’s return to Vulcan except by some agreement with himself not to deal with it to its root.

Now, what if some skilled alien psychologist had gotten to that root?

Or what if the drive to command went even deeper than he knew? Or some combination, possibly even something much more simple and elemental—some unalterable programming to kill having little to do with him, but driving him?

If any of that were true, how would he prevent himself from killing Spock?

Kirk stood up. “Permission to leave the bridge, sir?”

“For what purpose?”

“Personal.”

“Granted. Mr. Dobius, he will not be out of your sight.”

“Yes, Captain.”

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