The humming took a little longer this time. "Veri-
fied."
63
"Good," I murmured. "Computer, establish Clas
A-1 priority command as specified."
"Working. Priority established. Please go ahead."
"Question is there a way to countermand current
navigational program?" "Negative."
No surprises there. I pressed on. "Is there a way to
bypass current programming and engage a new pro-
gram in its place?"
"One moment, please." Click, buzz, whirr. "Af-
firmative."
"How?"
"Under Star Fleet Regulations for Emergency
Command, Section Z-12, subparagraph B, current
authorized command must declare critical emergency
computer activation."
"Ah. Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander
Piper. As commander of this vessel, I now declare
critical emergency computer activation according to
specified Star Fleet regulation." "Acknowledged."
"Compute method for overriding current navigation
programming and engaging a new program in its
place," I said nervously, taking great care with my
words. "Specify how to free helm to manual control."
"Immediate answer is not available. Will advise
upon completion of circuit analysis." With that, the
computer board settled into a happy whirr.
Scanner's lips fell open. "I'11 be danged!"
It took the computer only four minutes to figure out
a way around its own programming. Before any of us
dared break the expectant silence, the pleasant female
voice returned, rife with directions which Scanner and
I carefully followed.
"Reroute navigational circuitry through CKC-
Bank, sections 72R through 197X, via Dexter-Nelson
noncontiguous file cluster. Arrange file allocation
64
along following index pattern." A long list of number
bunches appeared on the readout screen. Scanner
wordlessly, even numbly, fed them into the appropri-
ate systems, one by one. It was clear by the way he did
it, slowly and with nervous care, that he didn't really
understand what he was doing.
"What's happening?" Merete asked quietly, as
though she might disturb the computer's concentration
if she spoke too loudly.
"It's telling us how to get helm control," I said
simply.
McCoy shifted forward eagerly, with a strange en-
thusiasm that I didn't quite know how to interpret.
"You're actually breaking Spock's programming?"
"No, not breaking it," I answered. "It can't be
broken or stopped. He knew that's what we'd try to
do, if we tried anything." "Then what--?"
"It can't be stopped. But it can be replaced."
He gave me an amusing frown. "Sounds like rheto-
ric to me."
"Ah, yes, but Rex has never been taught the art of
rhetoric. It can't tell the difference, so it just does what
it's told. The computer has no reason not to help us
override the programming, so that's what it's doing.
Didn't I tell you? Stupid!" My delight actually
squeezed a giggle out of me, but I was too pleased to
be embarrassed.
"That's it." Scanner sat back. Fine beads of sweat
glistened on his upper lip. "Now we wait."
We settled down. The computer console did every-
thing but spit bubbles. Lights glowed, then flickered,
then changed intensity. Numbers on the readout
screens flashed by faster than human eyes could as-
similate them, backgrounded by jangles, grinds, and
general electronic braying.
Soft lights played across our faces. Faces of human-
ity itself, reestablishing the true wonder of our own
65
power. Think of a machine... design a machine...
build a machine... be carried into the farthest reaches
of space by a machine... yet still rule over it. Still
outthink it. Quite a partnership, quite a symbiosis. Our
lives were in the hands of the machine, and its in ours.
The patterns of lights grew pale. The clicking fell
away, leaving only a whirr and hum. The whirr
stopped. The hum faded. The readout screen went
blank.
Then, three simple words, flashing calmly, outlined
in red
HELM IS MANUAL
The computer's firm voice echoed the words, once,
in simple punctuation, then fell silent.
My eyes drifted closed. My head drooped on 'aching
shoulders.
Behind me, Dr. McCoy and Merete shifted, sharing
looks of disbelief that confirmed our success.
Even Scanner, in his silence, radiated bone-deep
amazement. One hand reached for the readout screen
and tenderly touched it, in a silly human gesture. After
a moment, his face, bathed in the gently flashing light,
turned to me. "Well... you got control, Commander.
I never woulda bet on it." He clapped his knees to
renew the moment. "So, it's all yours. Where do you
want us to go?"
I forced my eyes to focus and stood up slowly,
gazing out over the beautiful elegance of space as we
cruised along at warp three.
"To Argelius," I said. "But on my order."
66
Chapter Five
"Didn't think I had it in me, did you?"
--The Changeling
I THINK SCANNER was plotting to have me assassi-
nated. Merete was contemplating my mental condi-
tion, and Dr. McCoy was shaking his head a lot. So,
after another smooth escape disguised as a dramatic
exit, I spent much of the next day's travel tucked
safely in my quarters, gazing into the computer access
screen.
I'd been in there alone for three hours before any-
body missed me during the next day-cycle. No sur-
prise it was Merete who finally opted to peek in.
"Disturbing?" she asked.
My eyes flipped up from the computer screen--my
only movement.. My preoccupation held for a long
moment as I gazed at her, then I moved my hand from
its parking place against my lips and said, "No. Come
on in."
She invited herself into the chair beside the bunk
and looked at the screen. "Tech manuals?"
"Look at this," I said flatly, punching the controls
on the side of the access screen. The screen went
blank for a moment, then flickered with new data.
"I've been through this a dozen times already and I
stl can't fathom it."
"What is it?"
67
"Vulcan training."
She inhaled, held it, and sighed. "Oh. Sarda's still
on your mind. Any particular aspect this time?"
"Sarda's clan."
Her delicate eyes narrowed. "Sarda's clan specifi-
cally? How did you ever find data that obscure?"
I made a guttural sound to double the impact of her
question. "Obscure is right. The Vulcans are noto-
riously secretive. However, Doctor dear, the Federa-
tion's liaison committee to the Confederation of 40
Eridani isn't without its muscle. They co
nvinced the
Vulcans to loosen their grip on cultural secrets at least
enough that off-worlders could understand enough
about them to respect them at a little less distance. I'll
bet that day saw logic fly."
"Even so," Merete countered as she sat at the end
of my bunk, "Sarda's clan isn't exactly the visible elite
of ShiKahr City, like Mr. Spock's. Isn't Sarda from
somewhere below the Vulcan equatorial zone?"
"He wouldn't tell me. I've been hunting through the
library systems for weeks. Before 1 put out to sea on
the Keeler, I left a search worm in the mainframe
library computer at Starbase One. It's been picking
through its indices, looking for information on Sarda
and his tribe, or whatever they call themselves. All 1
had to do was key into that system from here to get the
results of the search."
"So Mr. Spock's new computer for this ship is
coming in handy." "Sure is."
"What have you found?"
"I found," came the answer, "the Lyr Zor."
My revelation was lost on her. "Clan or region?"
Self-consciously, I clarified. "Clan. The region is
called Lyr T'aya, as closely as the computer can put it
into English alphabet. It's way south, in the Vuldi
Gorge. The nearest city is Jia'anKahr. Does that mean
anything to you?"
68
She nodded, eyes widening. "It means remote. I
knew Sarda wasn't from the city clans who usually
gravitate to Star Fleet, but I had no idea..."
I leaned forward. "Can you imagine the pressure it
would take to force a Vulcan from a clan that remote to
venture away from the planet? Do you realize how
alone he must have been? And he knew he'd stand out
at Star Fleet too. We don't exactly see fair-haired
Vulcans every day."
"And all this is teaching you something," Merete
prodded gently, probably thinking my state of mind
was as delicate as Sarda's.
I took a deep breath. "I've found that Vulcan clans
pretty much keep the teaching of their respective
children as a private matter. Only when a Vulcan child
reaches what they call Norn-La-Hal do they take on
the blanket training of all Vulcans. So there's a plane-
tary unity, but only after a certain point, if you get
what I mean."
"I do," she assured me. "And you're angry at the
Lyr Zor for their particular method."
This earned her a good long stare. How did she
know? Was it etched so clearly in my expression? A
passing flush of denial swept over me, a self-defense
mode of pretending to keep an open mind--oh, what
the hell. She saw through it anyway.
I waved her closer to the computer screen. "Well,
look at that. Just look."
Together we read the rare data from Vuldi Gorge,
the air around us heavy with implication.
TRAINING FILE UI-77. LYR ZOR CLAN, LYR T'AYA REGION,
VULDI GORGE CRESCENT, VULCAN. CONTACT SUNVAR,
MAGISTRATE OF INTERPLANETARY RELATIONS, JIA'ANKAHR,
VULCAN.
NEWBORN-4 YEARS. VISUAL MATHEMATICS, BASIC CALCU-
LATION, BEGIN NEUROLOGICAL ORGANIZING. LYR ZOR
IDENTITY MELD.
69
FOUR YEARS. MATHEMATICS AND SPECIES IDENTIFICATION,
PHYSICAL COORDINATION, ALGEBRA, GEOMETRY, PHYS-
ICS.
EIGHT YEARS. PRELIMINARY TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION
AND ETIQUETTE. LYR ZOR CLAN HISTORY. VULCAN AN-
THROPOLOGY. CALCULUS. QUANTUM PHYSICS.
TEN YEARS. SUPPRESSION OF CORTICAL STIMULAE IN
DOMINANT HEMISPHERE. VULCAN CULTURAL HISTORY.
STUDY OF VULCAN RITES OF PASSAGE.
ELEVEN YEARS. PRESSURE POINTS OF MIND MELDING.
MEMORY ACCURACY. INTERNAL-TIME COUNTING. INTRO-
DUCTION TO LOGIC AND DEFINITION. PRINCIPLES OF
ANALYSIS. CONCRETEHESS OF THOUGHT. PHYSICAL DE-
PORTMENT.
THIRTEEN-FIFTEEN. FORMAL TRAINING BEGINS.
"Have you ever seen anything like that?" I blus-
tered, deep in useless empathy. "That's what a Lyr
Zor child goes through."
"Have you got that in VulCan years or Earth Stan-
dards?"
"Earth Standards. But, my God, Merete, look at the
pressure. Think about the incredible mental discipline
involved. Not only that," I said, turning to her, "but
notice how much of it involves social approval. Look
.. cultural history, physical deportment, no less...
and that's supposedly before formal training. It's prac-
tically child abuse."
Merete leaned back in her chair, her medical train-
ing showing as she gave me both the benefit of the
doubt and a moment to cool off. "You're right," she
said patronizingly. "But don't forget they're born to it.
Chances are a Vulcan child would be mentally unbal-
anced if those tremendous brains of theirs weren't
given something to grasp, even early on."
I held out my hand to argue, then shook it and said,
"All right. Just keep watching and see what you think.
Computer, continue rundown of Lyr Zor training."
The screen unit buzzed, then moved ahead with
colored letters on the screen.
FORMAL TRAINING. TAL T'LEE. FIRST MEDITATION ASSISTED
BY AN ADEPT OF LYR ZOR COUNCIL. CONTROL OF SUB-
DOMINANT CORTICES. DWEMISH HI-AN. IDENTITY ISOLA-
TION. BRAIN CONTROL WITH NUMBERS SYSTEMS AND
EQUATIONS. MULTIPLICATION LEFT TO RIGHT. ENOK-KAL FI
LAR. PROCESSES OF DEFINITION. CONCEPTS OF GIVENS.
SIXTEEN-NINETEEN. AN-PRELE. PAIN CONTROL MEDITA-
TION WITH COUNCIL ADEPT. READINGS INCLUDE ESSAYS
OF DISCIPLINE BY SURAK AND ANALYSIS OF PSEUDODOXY
BY T'VEEN OF JlA'ANKAHR. LOBE SEGREGATION OF BRAIN.
"Piper," Merete interrupted patiently, "why are
you doing this to yourself?. Your becoming an expert
on Vulcan training won't help Sarda."
"Won't it?" I countered. "As I understand it, Sarda
should have already gone through the stage called
Venlinahr. That's the stage a Vulcan should have fin-
ished by Sarda's age in Earth years. It's the stage of
most Vulcan adults, and it's two stages ahead of--
well, let me show you. Look. Here's the part about the
Katra. Now just watch."
With reluctant tension, Merete looked into the
screen. Its faint blue lights played across her skin.
TWENTY-TWENTY-FOUR. THE RUNES OF T'VISH, LOGIC
PARADIGMS. BEHAVIORAL MODIFICATION. MULTiPLICA-
TION RIGHT TO LEFT, DIAGONAL, AND CROSS-MULTIPLI-
CATION. ISOLATION OF THE KATRA.
TWENTY-FIVE-TWENTY-NINE. SELE-AN-T'LEE COMPRISED
OF LESSONS IN SUBDOMINANT BRAIN ORGANIZATION,
ADVANCED PHILOSOPHY AND LOGIC, MUSCLE COORDI-
NATION, AND CONTROL OF WILL. FIVE STEPS. BELIEF DISCI-
71
PLINE, REALITY AWARENESS, SENSORY ACUTENESS, VISUAL
CALCULATION, FACT ANALYSIS. READINGS INCLUDE LOGIC
AND DEFINITION BY LYRAS, THE INTERIOR BY TAL LUXUR
OF ROMULUS, EQUATIONS BY SCORUS, SYSTEMS OF LOGIC
BY SURAK, PURPOSE AS PRIME MOTIVATOR B
Y SURAK.
ALSO INCLUDES ADVANCED MIND MELD TECHNIQUES.
"Now, that's where Sarda was when he was trying
to teach himself the Vulcan controls," I told her.
"Sele-an-t'lee, he told me. Can you imagine trying to
do all that by himself? It was probably tearing him
apart. How was he supposed to learn the techniques
for advanced mind melding if there was no one to meld
with? And he was still two stages behind. No, don't
talk. Read."
THIRTY-THIRTY-FIVE. NORN-LA-HAL. SUPERIOR CONTROL
MEDITATION AND NEUROLOGICAL ORGANIZING. IMPOR-
TANCE OF DIGNITY AND TRADITION IN VULCAN IDENTITY.
CONTEMPLATIONS OF INFINITY. VENLINAHR. STATE OF
MOST VULCAN ADULTS. MEDITATION BY INDIVIDUAL DIS-
CRETION. FURTHER STUDY OF VULCAN DHARMA. AD-
VANCED READINGS OF THE MYSTAGOGUES SURAK,
SCORUS, T'ENNE, T'VISH, PRISU, AND SELTAR.
"See?" I said, tapping the place on the screen with
one cracked fingernail. "That's when they can relax.
Venlinahr. That's when they're true Vulcans by their
own standards. Sarda should have reached that by
now. Then there's the next one, the real killer."
"I see it." Merete's voice was funereal. Just as the
words on the screen were.
KOLINAHR. FINAL DIVORCE OF THE BRAIN, BODY, AND
KATRA FROM ALL EMOTIONAL RESPONSES. IF NECESSARY,
KOLINAHR WILL BE ACCOMPLISHED BY MEMORY ABERRA-
TION.
LIST COMPLETE.
72
I leaned back. "Computer off."
The screen went blank. The blue glow was gone,
fallen off Merete's delicate features like shimmering
leaves from a scale tree on Proxima. The fleeting
thought of home gave me no comfort today.
Neither of us cared to rupture the dangerous silence
we'd fallen into. Only Merete's calm courage allowed
her to finally bridge the deepening gap. "Rigorous,"
she commented, curbing her tone of empathy.
"Killing," I corrected. "There's no excuse for that.