Demons
by
J. M. dillard
Look for Star Trek fiction from Pocket Books
Enterprise 17 Star Trek III
The First Adventure The Search for Spock
1 Star Trek 18 My Enemy, My Ally
The Motion Picture 19 The Tears of the Singers
2 The Entropy Effect 20 The Vulcan Academy
3 The Klingon Gambit Murders
4 The Covenant of 21 Uhura's Song the Crown 22 Shadow Lord
5 The Prometheus Design 23 Ishmael
6 The Abode of Life 24 Killing Time
7 Star Trek H 25 Dwellers in the Crucible
The Wrath of Khan 26 Pawns and Symbols
8 Black Fire 27 Mindshadow
9 Triangle 28 Crisis on Centaurus
10 Web of the Romulans 29 Dreadnought!
11 Yesterday's Son 30 Demons
12 Mutiny on the Enterprise 31 Battlestations!
13 The Wounded Sky Star Trek IV
14 The Trellisane The Voyage Home
Confrontation 32 Chain of Attack
15 Corona 33 Deep Domain
16 The Final Reflection 34 Dreams of the Raven
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a Star Trek Novel
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Printed in the U.S.A.
PROLOGUE
Beekman's Planet. Its nearness to binary suns and oppressive humidity
made it hot, even for Vulcans, but unlike home, Beekman's was lush and
wet. Up in the mountains it was cooler, and atop the smallest of them,
T'Ylle sat on her heels, shading her eyes from the glare. It had been
said that she was beautiful, and that her eyes made her so they were
large and almond-shaped, with an upward slant, as velvety blue black as
her hair. To T'Ylle, the fact had never been of the least importance
there was a remoteness about them as well that was impenetrable.
T'Ylle pulled back the hood of her jacket and brushed the moisture from
the face of the tricorder. The afternoon rains had just ended, and the
leaves, coated with tiny droplets, made the glade glisten like a jewel.
Steam rose from the ground around her boots with a soft hiss. She
scanned the area briefly, and the results pleased her--she was the only
animal life form in the immediate vicinity. Danger was, at least for
the moment, averted. She let the tricorder dangle again from the strap
on her shoulder and peered over the precipice.
Below, tiny workers crawled out from under makeshift shelters and
began digging in the heavy muck, made heavier still by the fresh rain.
In spite of the limitations imposed by the climate and soil conditions,
work on the dig had progressed beyond their expectations. They had
originally anticipated at least another year, but it was rumored that
Starnn would declare their decades of work finished sometime within the
next few days. Already they were close to exhausting this site--the
last--of its treasure. And do they know, thought T'Ylle, what they
have unearthed?
Save for those already affected, none of the others suspected.. ..
Perhaps it was foolish of her to confront the danger this boldly, but
family relationships demanded no less. She could not go to the others,
not until she had confirmation from his own lips first. If not
foolish, then she was at the very least reckless .. . but the chance
existed that she could set things aright, or that she had been wrong,
had entirely misunderstood.
But she knew she had not.
She repressed, so much from habit that she was no longer aware of it
and would have denied it, a shudder at the thought of what would happen
if she were killed. The gesture had arisen not from fear of her own
mortality, but of what would follow for the others--not only the
expedition, but the billions back home.. ..
She rose expectantly at the sound of steps crushing the low, sun-baked
undergrowth, but did not use the tricorder to tell her what approached.
At present only one species of animal life on the planet was capable
of
such footfall. The footsteps shuffled and came to a halt.
At the same time, something buzzed loudly past her, grazing her face.
Disconcerted, she stepped back and raised the tricorder in front of her
face as protection. When the assailant flew past again, she struck out
at it. The insect fell on its back in the soil, its legs dancing
maniacally in the air. Without hesitation, T'Ylle lowered her foot
over it and with a quick, firm movement, crushed it. Her mouth
twitched slightly as the hard shell made a loud crunch beneath her
boot.
The visitor stood silently and watched the murder without reaction;
T'Ylle raised serene, fearless eyes to meet his.
"You see," she said, "I know everything."
Chapter One
the building, which housed the sister sciences of linguistics,
anthropology, and archaeology, was more than three thousand years old,
but it could scarcely be distinguished from the younger buildings on
the campus of the Vulcan Science Academy. The structure's design was a
wonder of the architecture of the period --naturally lit by the sun and
ventilated by captured desert breezes, it had taken no notice of the
passage of three millennia, save for the addition of artificial
nighttime lighting and computer equipment in the labs. Outside, the
hot wind rippled red sand into tiny dunes under a blinding sun; inside,
it was fresh and cool and dim.
The ceilings in the ancient building were high, and the heels of
Sarek's boots echoed loudly on the stone stairs. He climbed until he
reached the third floor (he would not have used the lift even if there
had been one) and walked to the end of the hallway, to the door bearing
the inscription linguistics. He paused before the door and spoke a
name aloud--the offices were not equipped with buzzers--and waited for
a response too soft for human ears before he pushed against the heavy
stone door.
In the center of the room was a desk and behind it a
of the seated figure in shadow. Sarek blinked. The figure rose and
stepped forward out of the glare.
Silek was younger, leaner, with an openness about him that Sarek
completely lacked, but even so the resemblance was unmistakable. He
raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "It has been many years,
brother."
Sarek returned the salute. "Many years; thirty-eight point four
standard, to be exact."
"I trust your wife and son are well?"
"They are well." Sarek paused politely, taking notice of the stranger
who stood next to Silek's desk.
Silek turned to him deferentially. "This is Starnn, my father-in-law.
Starnn was chief archaeologist on our project. He will be
participating in the presentation with us."
"Sarek," Sarek addressed the old Vulcan. "Then you are part of our
family, and will be staying with us."
Out of respect for Starnn's age, which he estimated to be well over two
hundred, Sarek waited for the older man to initiate the salute. But
Starnn merely nodded distractedly. His white hair was disheveled, as
though he had forgotten to comb it, and there was a vacant gaze in his
eyes. Sarek took no offense; even the best of Vulcans sometimes
suffered from forgetfulness at such advanced age.
"Starnn, of course, has often heard me mention your name, and is
honored," Silek said swiftly.
Sarek changed the subject. "And what of your expedition to the
Hydrilla sector?"
"Most successful, actually," replied Silek. "Of the
ruins, we were only able to thoroughly explore Beekman's Planet, which
is why we need more funding to continue exploration of the sector."
"If you were successful, no doubt you uncovered some interesting
artifacts," Sarek said, looking at Starnn.
"Of course," Starnn said in a wavering voice, suddenly galvanized.
"That is why we must return. There were far too many for us to uncover
in one expedition. And several of these discoveries are worthy of
extensive study and testing, for they will no doubt lead to a greater
understanding of the principles of physics." He turned to Silek.
"Show him the box."
"Yes," said Silek. "One of our most intriguing discoveries." He went
into the lab for a moment, then returned to the outer office area with
a look of thinly veiled scientific excitement and what looked to be a
smooth piece of onyx, polished so that its surface reflected the faces
of the three. It was somewhat larger than Silek's hand, and shaped
like a Terran oyster, with an almost invisible seam around its center.
Even in the daylight, a faint bluish glow emanated from it. Sarek
thought he detected a slight hum.
"Try to op en it." Silek handed it to him.
Sarek pulled on the top of the box and flinched as it sparked and
crackled. "I cannot."
"Nor can we," replied Silek, "with all of our instruments. It is
apparently an internally generated force field. And it is shielded
from us; our scanners cannot penetrate this material. We don't even
know if the structure is solid or hollow. And, of course, the field
will not permit us to analyze the material."
"Fascinating," said Sarek.
"And quite beautiful," said Starnn. "An ingenious blending of the
principles of physics and art to create a puzzle. We found many others
like it; this one is the smallest. Please take it as a gift, a
souvenir of the Hydrilla sector."
Silek shot a quizzical glance at the elderly Vulcan.
"Forgive me," said Sarek, "but I cannot take it. This belongs to the
academy museum. It belongs where others can appreciate it."
Starnn ignored Silek's stern, silent gaze. "We already have too many
for display. This one is the smallest, as I said."
"I cannot," said Sarek.
said. "Your house is open to many guests, some of them interplanetary;
the box would be seen and enjoyed by many."
"Perhaps you are right." Sarek bowed slightly, wishing at this point
only to humor him. "I am honored."
"Your acceptance honors me," Starnn said, mollified.
"If you gentlemen are ready," Sarek said, "I will escort you to my
home."
"Yes," Silek agreed quickly. "And will your family be there also?"
"My wife will be there. Spock is in Star Fleet."
"Forgive me," said Starnn. "I have some matters to attend to here in
the capital. If it is no inconvenience, I will join you later."
"Certainly," said Sarek. "Take the evening shuttle to ShiKahr and I
will meet you at the station."
Starnn nodded and picked up the box. "Do not
forget this. I know you will display it where it can be admired."
Sarek bowed again as he accepted the box.
The two left. In the hallway, out of Starnn's earshot, Sarek said, "I
am honored by the gift, but I feel it is inappropriate. I am unused to
receiving items which should be museum pieces."
"Starnn uncovered many of these," Silek answered, not meeting his
brother's eyes. "He is quite accurate when he says that there are too
many for display."
"Then it could be used for testing. And I perceive that you also do
not approve of Starnn's action."
Silek paused before he met Sarek's eyes. "Starnn may be chief
archaeologist, but even that does not give him the right to dispose of
academy property."
"Then why did you say nothing to him?"
"He has not been himself of late."
"He is old," said Sarek. "And his only daughter has died."
Silek glanced at him darkly. "My wife. Yet I have not changed. It's
more than that. Even before T'Ylle died, Starnn .. . changed."
"Perhaps he should visit a healer."
"If you could recommend a local one," Silek said, "I will suggest it to
him."
"That would be wise," said Sarek.
Silek paused, and his tone became lighter. "And is the lady Amanda
still as gracious as I remember her?"
Sarek was unaware that his expression had softened. "Even more so."
A diamond-eyed beetle with mother-of-pearl wings droned in through the
open window of the archaeology
dating laboratory. Starnn took no notice; his eyes were focused on a
row of silvery onyx boxes all weakly glowing in the day lit room. He
did not see the insect until it had the misfortune of lighting on one
of the luminous boxes. Starnn cupped his hands and gently caught the
creature, moving toward the open w
indow to free it; but a spasm shook
him before he was able to unclasp his hands. It passed swiftly,
leaving his face locked in a hideous grimace. The grimace resolved
itself into a serene smile as he set the beetle carefully upon the
windowsill, and with long, bony fingers, proceeded to pull off its
delicate, iridescent wings.
"I just don't understand, sir," Lisa Nguyen said. "Why are we picking
up only a handful of the expedition?"
The security contingent of Tomson, Nguyen and al Baslama had seen to it
that the Vulcan researchers were safely ensconced in their quarters and
were now making their way back to C deck. Nguyen was the newest member
of the security team, and the lowest in rank. She had directed this
question deferentially to Security Chief Tomson.
Tomson gave Nguyen a sideways glance, secretly displeased, although
technically she had no right to be. Nguyen was eager and well-scrubbed
enough, with hair pulled back and falling in an amazingly straight line
down her back. It was the hair that troubled Tomson; she could not get