you?"
She struck a pose of mock arrogance. "My job, which, of course, I
happen to be great at. Now let's talk about something more
interesting. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you with my comment
earlier."
"About my moral support." McCoy felt himself beginning to blush again.
"Well, I'll have to learn to live with these things. Speaking about
changing the subject, how did you ever come by a name like Anitra?
I've heard of Anita--"
"That's usually what everyone hears the first time I
say it. Never listened to Grieg? The Peer Gynt Suite?"
"The song about the man going into the mountains, and he runs into all
these little ghouls, and they dance frantically .. . that was a good
one."
"That's The Hall of the Mountain King--an appropriate musical choice
for the moment, eh? Haven't you heard Anitra's Dance?" And she hummed
a few bars for him.
"Yes, of course. That's beautiful. Who was Anitra?"
"A houri."
"A what?"
"A seductress." She smiled appropriately. McCoy fingered his collar
and cleared his throat until she laughed good-naturedly at him. "I'm
sorry. I've embarrassed you again."
"Two to zero," he said. "No fair. Now I get to choose the subject."
"Fair enough."
"Why do you think you have an ulcer?"
Her smile faded until only a trace of it remained, and she looked down
at the control panel in front of her. "I don't know. Stress of the
job, I guess."
"With your sense of humor, I don't see how being a starship physicist
would really get to you--especially since physics is your field. Most
people who get to work in a field they love are perfectly content with
their jobs."
She smoothed both hands over her forehead and scalp and grabbed the
hair tightly at the nape of her neck, drawing it up as if the weight of
it on her back had suddenly become too much. "That's true. Maybe the
cause of my ulcer is something I'm not at liberty to
talk about." Her head was tilted downward, toward McCoy, and her
expression was now quite serious.
McCoy drew in his breath at how suddenly beautiful she had become. "My
God," he said suddenly. "Your eyes are purple."
It caught her off guard, and she flushed scarlet to her hairline.
"That's violet to you, Doctor."
"Whatever you call it, it's the prettiest color I've ever seen in a
pair of eyes," McCoy said. "Embarrassed you, didn't I?"
"That's two for me, one for you."
"We haven't finished talking about your ulcer yet. And it just
occurred to me that I ought to have a handicap--I'm at a disadvantage,
since you know everything I think before I say it."
"There's an ugly rumor going around to that effect. Just please, don't
blow my cover with anyone else. And, for the record, I've been taking
lessons with Spock."
"What do you need lessons from Spock for?"
"So I can not read people's minds if I choose to. I was pretty
miserable before he started tutoring me."
"So it wasn't just that mysterious 'project' all the time?"
"No. We've spent a lot of time learning to control my ability." She
smiled ruefully. "If I hadn't learned about shielding, I think I would
have finally gone crazy."
"I guess I never really thought much about it," said McCoy. "I always
envied tele paths being able to know what others were thinking. I
guess it wouldn't be so much fun to constantly be flooded with everyone
else's thoughts."
"There are times," she said with a wry expression, "when it isn't fun
to know what others are thinking about you. It's kind of like finding
out what someone has said behind your back. Sometimes even your
are too polite to come right out and say what they think. White lies
are really more of a courtesy than you know. They really keep people's
egos from constant bruising. I'm a great believer in white lies."
"And I believed you when you said I was cute."
She smiled the houri's smile again. "And you thought I was mooning
over Spock."
"Now that's not fair," McCoy said. "You were reading my mind then."
"Tsk, tsk, Doctor--it was written all over you. You were certain I had
joined the ranks of unrequited Vulcanophiles."
"Well," he protested half-heartedly, "you certainly had all the
sympto ms."
She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and studied it idly. "I
suppose I do have a certain .. . fascination .. ." (McCoy winced at
her use of the word)"... for all things Vulcan. Maybe it's because of
the control they offer. After being at the mercy of everyone else's
thoughts and feelings, not to mention my own, for so long, I guess I
like the thought of finally being in control of it all."
"My dear, you are the last person in the entire world I could picture
as a Vulcan. You're far too fun-loving for that. And if you cut
yourself off from all that's human, you'll wind up missing an awful
lot."
She laughed. "I suppose you're right. ""Of course I'm right. Just
don't ask Spock to back me up."
"I wouldn't dream of it." She yawned and rubbed her eyes.
"A little tired?" he asked.
She nodded. "Another all-night brainstorm session with Spock."
"You're not a Vulcan, my dear. Just because you can compete with Spock
intellectually doesn't mean you have to keep up with him physically."
"I know." She swiveled in the chair toward him and looked in his eyes
intently. "But don't you think that the gravity of the situation
merits the loss of a few nights' sleep?"
"God," he groaned. "Listen to you--you're even starting to sound like
him. Look, we're not expecting anyone to come pounding on that door
for at least an hour or so. Why don't you lie down for a few
minutes?"
She looked painfully tempted. "I couldn't."
"Nonsense. You're the one running the show, and if you get too tired
to think clearly, go stretch out in the other room and turn out the
light."
"I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt," said Anitra. "But what if
something happens?"
"I may not be a genius, but I think I can figure out if I need to call
you. Go on, now."
She shrugged helplessly.
It was dark and cool in the little lounge. Amanda lay corpselike on
the couch at the other end of the room, and while Anitra found it
rather morbid sharing the
room with her, there was no other alternative. She lay, as far away
as possible, on the floor near the entrance.
Seconds after her eyes closed, Anitra was asleep, but it was not the
pleasant experience she had anticipated. It was deep, trancelike, and
she fell instantly into a nightmare.
In her dream, Anitra lay sleeping in the little lounge, through some
nocturnal magic having acquired the ability to see through closed
eyelids. Amanda was there, too, and rose silently from the couch--not
using her legs and arms, but levitating straight up into the air. About
five f
eet above the couch, she turned round and round, like a
corkscrew, and then slowly righted herself, descending until at last
her feet gently contacted the floor. Anitra struggled to scream
McCoy's name, but the trance was too deep, and her vocal cords were
paralyzed. Nor could she run, for her limbs had become too heavy to
move. She lay perfectly motionless, except for her steady breathing,
unable even to blink. The torment continued for some time-Amanda
always nearing, always closer, yet never quite close enough to touch.
The touch of a warm hand broke the spell, and she woke gratefully,
opening her eyes to darkness. "Doctor?"
"A neat trick, don't you think?" Amanda whispered slyly. Her eyes
glowed palely in the darkness.
Chapter Seven
McCoy let kirk in the door to auxiliary control and closed and locked
it as quickly as possible behind him.
"That was fast," McCoy said.
"That's why I get to be captain." Kirk looked around the room.
"Spock's not back yet?"
"Not yet. Anitra wasn't expecting either one of you for another half
hour."
"Where is she?"
McCoy lowered himself shakily into a chair. "We've had a little
excitement while you were gone, Jim. Amanda--woke up."
"She did?" Kirk stiffened as though struck by a thunderbolt. "How is
she?"
McCoy shook his head. "The things were playing possum on us, Jim."
"They did a damn good job."
"No kidding. My guess is they did it to get to Anitra, and they've
been waiting for the opportunity all this time. I guess they found out
about her somehow and really wanted her. That's my guess, anyway." He
put his face in his hands and peered down through his fingers. "She
went to lie down in the other room. Five
minutes later, I heard her scream. Amanda was trying to strangle
her."
"My God," Kirk whispered. "What'd you do?"
"You know me--never without a medikit. I gave that woman enough elenal
to put her to sleep till next Christmas."
"How's Anitra?"
"Upset, naturally--other than that, just bruised. It gave her one hell
of a scare. And she's exhausted from all that's been happening.
Working late with Spock. She needed a rest...."
"So you gave her a dose, too," Kirk sounded disapproving. "Not enough
to keep her out until Christmas, I hope. We're going to have to be
ready to leave as soon as Spock gets back."
"Nan," McCoy rubbed his face, "she'll be out another half hour, I
figure. We can spare that much time, can't we?"
"Maybe," Kirk said. He started for the lounge.
"Jim?" McCoy called. "No point in going in there. They're both out
cold."
Kirk stopped at the entrance to the little room and half turned his
head back toward the doctor. McCoy could not see his face. "I just
wanted to check on Anitra," he said easily. "No harm in that, is
there?"
There was a heartbeat's pause. No harm that McCoy could see ... yet
there was something wrong with the question, with the way that Kirk
stood in the doorway. McCoy realized that the hairs on his scalp and
neck were standing straight up.
"Dear God," McCoy whispered. "Jim--"
Kirk's back relaxed. "Something wrong, Doctor?"
"Yes. Yes, there's something wrong," McCoy croaked forcing the words
from his throat against their will. In the midst of his terror, he was
suddenly struck by anger at what had been done to his friend. "Just
what in hell are you?"
Without turning around, Kirk swiveled his head around at an impossible
angle so that it faced McCoy.
"We," he corrected McCoy, smiling. "What in hell are we?"
Spock completed his task in engineering without incident, although he
was considerably delayed by two engineering trainees engaged in a task
near the matter antimatter pods. He was making his way back down the
corridor from engineering to the emergency shaft when he turned a
corner and bumped directly into Lieutenant Uhura. Both of them did a
double take, but Uhura had her phaser ready. Spock never had the
chance to draw his. She waved it at him, looking bedraggled and a
little wild-eyed.
"All right, stop it. Stop it right there or I'll fire."
He half raised his arms in acquiescence. From the intensity of her
expression, she clearly meant business. Spock sighed. She was too far
away for him to attempt to wrestle the phaser from her; logically,
there was not much left to do, except to try to get closer to the
phaser.
He took a tentative step toward her, but she would have none of it.
"One more," she said, her voice deadly, "and I'll shoot."
"I have no doubt of that," Spock said and fastened his eyes on the
deck.
She gestured menacingly with the phaser. "Where's the captain?"
Spock lowered his hands and said with mild exasperation, "That seems
to be a most popular line of inquiry of late. Lieutenant, I'm afraid
this will prove to be quite pointless. It would be less frustrating
for both of us if you simply fired."
"Get those hands up," she barked with such explosive force that Spock
raised his hands with exceptional dispatch. "And didn't your mother
tell you it was rude not to look at people who were talking to you?"
Spock managed a step closer without her noticing. "Eye behavior is
culturally bound, Lieutenant."
"You haven't answered my question."
Spock thought for a moment. "Yes, I believe she did."
Uhura grimaced as she thrust the phaser closer. "For God's sake, not
that question--the one about Captain Kirk."
"If I knew where he was," Spock said, "I would not tell you. And at
this moment I cannot say with certainty. I suggest you kill me and
tell Mr. Scott that I knew nothing."
"Now why would I tell Scott .. ." Uhura's voice trailed off
uncertainly.
At that moment, Spock moved close enough to see that the phaser was set
on stun. In a breach of Vulcan ethics necessitated by the urgency of
the situation, he lowered his mental shields just long enough to brush
up against Uhura's mind. He looked up at her.
"Lieutenant Uhura," he said almost warmly.
"It is you, isn't it, sir?" Uhura grinned broadly, and for a moment
was tempted to hug him. "Sorry, Mr. Spock. I should have known when
you answered that question about your mother."
"Why were you so interested in the captain's whereabouts?"
"Who wouldn't be? Mutiny on the bridge, total chaos on the rest of the
ship." She shuddered. "For a moment, I thought you were in cahoots
with everyone else on the bridge--"
"Everyone else is affected?"
"On the bridge at least," she said soberly. "But not me. I had just
reported for duty. When I stepped off the turbolift, I saw the stars
on the view screen, and I was going to ask Mr. Scott if our orders had
been changed." She closed her eyes and shuddered. "Sulu was sitting
at his post. He looked like he was .. . hypnotized or something. He
just sat, staring straight ahead, with his mouth open and Scott's hands
we
re holding his head--sort of the way you do it, sir, for the Vulcan
mind meld. But Scott's fingers .. . Mr. Spock, they were glowing. It
seemed to travel down from Scott's hands to Sulu, because then Sulu's
eyes started glowing with the same kind of light.
"I guess they heard me come in, because when they finished, everyone on
the bridge was looking at me. They were all wearing these horrible,
creepy smiles. I figured I was their next target." She bowed her
head. "You know, sir, I've never left my post before--"
"I know, Lieutenant. You had no choice."
"I didn't. I stepped right back onto the lift and went to my quarters
and locked myself in. When I calmed down, it occurred to me that they
might look for me there. Plus, I hoped if the captain weren't on the
bridge, maybe he had somehow escaped, and maybe I
could find him. That's when I ran into you." Her soft eyes widened.
"Mr. Spock, what is happening to everyone?"
"You see that they are not themselves," Spock said quietly. "They are
controlled by an outside force-some type of parasite. As you saw, they