Bloodthirst (35 page)

“Call your captain,” Mendez said to Kyle, whose tan had just faded by several shades.

“They're here, Captain,” Kyle said through the intercom.

“Good,” Jim Kirk answered. He closed the channel and leaned forward in his chair to give the order to Sulu.

The bridge convulsed, heaving him from the conn. He landed very unceremoniously on his backside. But there was no time to worry about the loss of dignity; besides, everyone else on the bridge was far too occupied to notice. Another blast like that without the shields up, and the top of the bridge would be sheared off.

Sulu had recovered from the shock of the blast and sat at the helm, facing the captain and calmly awaiting the order.

“Sulu,” Kirk gasped, struggling to his feet. “Deflector shields up. Return fire. And stand by for evasive maneuvers.”

“Aye, sir.” The helmsman's Oriental features remained impassive as he took in all three orders without flinching. On the screen, the port side of the Bird of Prey flared in space as Sulu's barrage struck home. “A hit, sir. Minor damage.”

Uhura had crawled back to her station after being knocked halfway across the bridge. Now she swiveled in her chair toward the conn, a model of composure except for her decidedly rumpled uniform. “Damage reports, Captain. One of the pods damaged, no estimated repair time yet. Engineering reports serious damage to one of the lower decks.”

“Is that Scott? Let me talk to him.”

“Aye, sir.” She turned back to her board. “On audio.”

“Scotty?” Kirk sat in his chair and leaned to one side, toward the intercom. “What's the situation down there?”

The engineer's tone was, as usual, gravely pessimistic. “They knew right where to hit us, Captain. A few meters more to the left, and they would have taken out the reactors completely. As it is, we've lost some power.”

“How much? I want to get her out of here as fast as we can.”

“Well I suppose I could give you warp eight.”

Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. To Scott, even a microscopic loss of power was a tragedy. “Give me warp nine and I'll put your name in for a commendation.”

“You're on.” He could practically hear Scott grin.

Kirk looked up at the helm. “Mr. Sulu. Implement evasive maneuver at warp nine
now
.”

He braced himself against the conn as the bridge trembled and bore hard to starboard

And then righted itself. Kirk glanced up at the main viewscreen. The Bird of Prey was gone, and in its place, stars. In a way, he couldn't help feeling sorry for Khaefv, a shrewd young commander who deserved better than whatever fate awaited him in the Praetors' Empire. The Romulan system had little tolerance for failure.

He stood up and waited for the adrenaline rush to fade. It was over really over. All that remained now of the Tanis affair was to see to it that security escorted Admiral Mendez to the VIP quarters and kept him confined there.

His intercom whistled again. “Kirk here.”

Kyle sounded puzzled. “Kyle again, Captain. I'm afraid—I'm afraid Admiral Mendez is making demands, sir. He says that if you don't bring Adams to the transporter room now, he's going to kill Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock.”

“He's coming,” Kyle said.

“I heard,” Mendez growled. “You'd all better hope he's bringing Adams with him.”

“Your attempt to escape the consequences is illogical,” Spock said, as if he were engaging in a friendly debate of only mild personal interest to him. “Even if you were able to avoid incriminating yourself in Admiral Waverleigh's death, Dr. McCoy and I will testify that you threatened us with physical harm here, and down on Tanis.”

“Don't remind him of that
now
, Spock,” McCoy hissed, exasperated. Sometimes the Vulcan could be incredibly naive when it came to his own welfare.

“I don't give a damn about logic.” Mendez raised the phaser. The beginnings of desperation shone in his eyes, making McCoy distinctly nervous.

“You should,” Spock answered pleasantly. “If you could have removed the evidence against you on Tanis—i.e., the R-virus—before the doctor and I arrived, it would have been to your benefit. You could have claimed that Tanis base was working on any number of different secret projects, but a germ so obviously engineered against Romulans is damning evidence.

“And, once we arrived, if you had located the virus and then killed us before anyone else on the
Enterprise
knew of your presence, it would still have been possible to avoid having your involvement with Tanis revealed. Unfortunately, once you decided to contact the
Enterprise
, secrecy was no longer possible. From that point on, you were bound to destroy an entire starship in order to protect yourself”

McCoy interrupted, frowning. “What are you doing, giving him ideas? Whose side are you on, Spock?”

Spock paused. Mendez's expression was becoming increasingly desperate, but he did not tell the Vulcan to be quiet. Spock continued. “Your attempt to avoid arrest and prosecution is rather hopeless at this point. Even if you find a way of destroying the
Enterprise
, there is no way you can be certain that the captain has not already informed Starfleet of the current situation. With this last desperate action, you are only proving your guilt and aggravating the situation.”

Mendez was considering all this; as he did, McCoy could tell out of the corner of his eye that Spock was almost imperceptibly moving toward the admiral. It took Mendez a full minute to realize what the Vulcan was up to.

“Go to hell.” Mendez clutched the phaser more tightly. “I don't need you to tell me what the situation is.”

They all turned their head as the door opened, though Mendez refixed his gaze on his prisoners quickly, before Spock could make a grab for the phaser. Just outside the transporter room stood a row of red security uniforms, headed by a tall, pale figure in red: Tomson.

“Keep them out!” Mendez barked.

The door closed over them as Kirk entered, flanked by a man outlined by the near-invisible glow of a field suit. Adams, McCoy marveled while he had regained some color, he was still unhealthy looking (probably his normal state), but walking without assistance. The doctor felt a surge of wild hope:
That means Chris must be all right.
“What” he began, then bit his tongue.
Is he doing in a field suit?
he had almost asked. With the exception of Mendez, they were all immune, and Adams was probably no longer contagious. But he knew the captain well enough to suspect that Jim was up to something. Besides, there was something strange about Adams' attitude. He didn't seem at all frightened, like a man who is about to be traded as a hostage should. He seemed almost
smug
.

Kirk and Adams stood in front of Kyle's console. The captain was no longer making no effort to hide the contempt in his eyes and voice. “All right, Admiral. Here he is. But before we let the two of you off the ship, there's something you should know.”

“Whatever it is, I don't give a damn.” Mendez gestured, a little crazily, with the phaser. “Send him over here and beam us down to Tanis.”

But Adams remained where he was. “I think you
will
give a damn, Admiral,” Kirk said. “You're right, Adams knows where the R-virus is. That's why you want him, isn't it? But you're making the wrong assumption. It's not down on Tanis base. It's here, on the
Enterprise
.”

“I don't believe you,” Mendez said, but he was beginning to look agitated. “Send him over.”

Kirk nodded to Adams, who took a careful step toward the transporter pad. Jim kept talking. “Even if there's no evidence to connect you to Waverleigh's death, Admiral, even if you somehow manage to convince Starfleet that you had nothing to do with the creation of the R-virus, I and my crew will testify against you.

“Of course, it occurred to me that you're resourceful and you could find a way to get rid of an entire starship. After all, you're head of weapons development. So just as a precaution, I'm having the computer logs of what is happening here now transmitted directly to Starfleet Headquarters. Even if the
Enterprise
is destroyed a short time from now, Starfleet will still see exactly what happened here.”

“
Now?
” Mendez shuddered.

Adams moved closer, until he stood in front of Mendez.

“Where will you go to hide, Admiral?” Kirk asked. “Klingon space? Certainly, you wouldn't be too welcome in Romulan territory.”

“What a fool you are!” Adams grinned maniacally. “Don't you realize that once you take me with you, all I have to do is
this?
” He pressed the control unit at his waist; the field faded away. “I won't be your scapegoat, Mendez. We're going down together.”

“
No!
” Mendez cried. “Get him away from me! He's infected,”

He cringed, using the doctor as a shield. As Adams neared, Mendez pushed McCoy forward. Adams laughed and stepped to one side as the doctor went sprawling off the edge of the platform.

The admiral sobbed as Adams reached forward and touched his arm; the phaser clattered to the transporter pad, and Spock scooped it up.

Adams' smile faded. “A damn shame"” he shook his head with real regret—that I'm no longer infectious. I've been wanting to do that for a long time.”

LISA STOOD IN her quarters, looking at her two friends. Her long black hair was down on her shoulders, and she was dressed in civilian clothes, a powder-blue jumpsuit that was almost a perfect match for Lamia's complexion. She held a lightweight beige suitcase in front of her with both hands.

“They said your replacement would be here tomorrow,” Lamia said, after an awkward silence. She was staring at Nguyen's stripped bunk and at the painting on the wall above it. Lisa suddenly realized that the Andorian would be spending the night alone, and was overwhelmed by pity. She set the suitcase down and hugged Lamia fiercely.

“I'm going to miss you.” She drew back and looked at her friend fondly.

“Maybe you'll be back.” Lamia's blue lips were stretched in a shaky smile.

“Maybe I will,” Nguyen said. Tomson had convinced her to try six months' personal leave instead of resigning altogether. It made sense; she could have Colorado for a time, and know that if it didn't work out, the Fleet would still be there for her. Besides, she owed Tomson a favor.

“Take care of yourself,” Stanger said, and reached out to give her a quick hug.

“You too,” she answered, smiling up at him. “Thanks.”

“For what?” He raised his eyebrows slightly, as if he were surprised.

“For what you did on the observation deck.”

“Oh, that.” He shifted his weight as if the memory made him uncomfortable. “It was nothing.”

“Oh, that,” she mimicked teasingly. “You just saved my life, that's all.”

“You would have done the same for me.”

I've gone one better
, she thought smugly, but she said nothing. He would find out soon enough this morning, when he reported for duty. She had half expected Tomson to ignore her suggestion, to make some comment about not wanting to make a character judgment based on the ravings of a sick man. But to her surprise, the lieutenant had listened. The fact that Stanger had just saved Lisa's life and the fact that Tomson was willing to bargain to keep Lisa in the Fleet probably had something to do with it.

They had both agreed that little would be served by questioning Rosa. If Stanger wanted to protect her, then that was his business. But at least they could do something to help him out.

“Well.” Lisa made an effort to sound cheerful. She had already decided that she was not going to cry; at least, not here, in front of them. “I guess I'd better get down to the hangar deck before they decide to leave without me.”

“I'll write.” Lamia's antennae were starting to droop.

“I will too,” Lisa answered. She looked at them both and then picked up her suitcase.

Stanger's brown eyes were moist; he cleared his throat. “Guess we'd better report for duty.”

A halfhearted attempt at a smile flickered across Lamia's face. “That's true. You certainly can't afford to be late, can you?”

“No, you can't,” Nguyen answered. Not today, of all days. She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk out of the room without glancing behind her.

She was very sorry she wouldn't get to see the look on Stanger's face when he found out.

“Well.” Stanger was consciously trying not to fidget. “I guess we ought to be leaving.” He kept wanting to say,
but
, and couldn't quite bring himself to.

“Yes.” Lamia avoided looking at him with those bright green eyes. She made a sharp move toward the door.

“Wait” He stepped in front of her. “I was wrong, what I said to you before. About friends being a complication.”

“Maybe you were right,” she answered. He tensed defensively at that, but she had a point: she had trusted him, and he had hurt her. But there was no hostility, only sadness, in her voice. She tilted her chin up at him and looked him square in the eye, her cap of silvery hair swinging gently. She was not the slightest bit aware of her beauty, and that made her all the more attractive.

He hesitated. “I'm sorry, Lamia. I was hurt by someone I cared for very deeply, once. I admit I was bitter. It's taken me awhile to get over it.”

"Are
you over it now?” Her manner was serious.

“Yes.” And he noted with quiet amazement that it was true. However badly Rosa may have hurt him, he had survived; and there was nothing she could take away from who he was now.

“I didn't want to be anything more than your friend, Jon. It's normal on Andor for people of the opposite sex to be friends and I thought it was normal here. But I kept thinking you misunderstood—or that I'd somehow inadvertently given the wrong signal.”