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“And never fully solved them,” she said. “But this is a final solution. And the fight over it could be the war to end the world—to end civilized, stargoing life in the galaxy. To reduce planets to rubble—or stack them fourteen deep in people.”

Kirk sighed and nodded. “I know. Of course, I know. But that kind of problem has been faced before, too, and sometimes the only solution is to fight it through and come out the other side—even if it means that you have to claw your way up out of the rubble again. What you see is true. What you don’t see is that Pandora’s box can’t be closed again. The Pandora’s box of technology never can. The atomic bomb couldn’t be uninvented. If one country hadn’t invented it, hadn’t used it, another would. There is a state of the art in these things. Think of all the simultaneous discoveries just on Earth, on your planet. If we destroyed this planet today, somebody would have the process within years, at most decades. No, I say that we cannot buy that at the price of lives—or why can we not buy it at the cost of one planet after another? And what would that make us? No. But there has been Hope in every Pandora’s box—and it’s been enough. It will have to be enough for us. Well fight, but it will have to be the right fight.”

She shook her head. “I agree—but I cannot agree. The process does not have to be in the hands of Black Omne. Nor loosed just yet. If I were Pandora, I would have clamped the lid back down—and blown up the castle. And I will. I’ll buy those years or decades. I can afford the luxury.” She turned to Spock. “And you, Spock? It is not only immortality. It is a personal contest, where we—and ours—stand to lose the most. Think of Omne’s black-devil imagination. Think of another mind in Kirk’s body, rung in on you on any day. Omne’s mind, even. You or I might detect it with the link. But think of the opposite. Omne will have body scans of you and me. We went through his transporter. Do you care for the thought of Jim or James up against Omne in the body of Spock.

“No,” Spock said hollowly.

“And will you stand for it? I will not. And I will do this for you, too. But I do not wish to have to go through you. Nor him, them. Choose now. Does he command you in this?”

Spock looked down into her face, and Kirk saw that the Vulcan looked into the pits of hell. The fire of their ancient, savage ancestry was in both faces, and Kirk knew suddenly that he did not command Spock in this. Never had. Never would. There was a point where strength ruled and elemental needs commanded.

And the Vulcan was the power in this room.

“No,” Spock said, “but you will have to go through him to get out, and through me to get to him. Both of him.”

She stood as if she would, and Kirk set himself to dive before she could get to those broken ribs, saw from the corner of his eye James doing the same.

But she looked only at Spock.

“That was what I wanted to know,” she said, and stepped back a fraction. “You keep a trust, too, Mr. Spock. And I—” She lifted her head. “Even if I could go through that—I would not”

“Bluff ?” Spock asked

“Called,” she said.

Spock nodded. “A no-limit game.” He turned to Kirk. “I suggest that we depart.”

Kirk settled his shoulders. “When you’re ready, Spock,” he said, not even testing the tenuous fiction of command.

But Spock said, “Ready now, Captain. I have taken the liberty of setting a destruct in the shield circuits. It will take some time to repair and give us some. I do not entirely reject the Commander’s logic. Or yours. But I recommend we adjourn to the Enterprise. I have set the transporter for McCoy’s office and for the four of us.”

Kirk nodded. ‘Thank you, Mr. Spock.” He turned to the Commander. “We will need—your word.”

She arched an eyebrow. “My parole as a prisoner?”

“Only if that is necessary,” Kirk said. “But I will not have you challenge Spock again.”

“Or you?” she asked.

“Or me on my ship.”

“I would not respect less, Captain,” she said. “And I perceive that it is your ship, in spite of all. That, also, I wanted to know.

“Mr. Spock has just said that I do not command him,” Kirk said with great clarity.

“And proved that you command him more than you ever knew.”

That, too, Kirk thought. Of course, that, too. “Do I have your word, Commander?” he said heavily.

“For the duration, Captain.”

The duration—endures, he thought. God, forever. It was catching up with him. He waved her and James toward what passed for transporter positions here and followed silently, feeling his legs go suddenly heavy. He started to pause behind Spock at the console, couldn’t think of anything to say. It had been in his defense, after all. He put his hand on the Vulcan’s shoulder in some kind of acceptance, apology, comfort—something.

And the Vulcan’s eyes said about the same, said-hell of a universe.

Kirk smiled thinly and made it to the transporter platform, saw Spock set a delay and come to join them.

Bones, Kirk thought. No, no way not to spring this on him if he was there. Spock would have known they would need the privacy of his office, and Sickbay, and Bones.

Spock seemed to read the thought. “It is the kind of shock one can take,” he said in the tone of a confession.

Kirk grinned and felt a little better, saw sparks start to spill from the console as Omne’s transporter effect took them. It was silent, he realized.

CHAPTER XIX

McCoy thought that he would raise his head from the desk in just a moment, just another minute, maybe.

Get on the horn and check with Scotty for the umpteenth time. Any word from Spock? Any progress on breaking through on the lock on the transporter, penetrating the damn shields? But he already knew what the answers would be. Same answers, hour after hour.

He had tried drinking and given it up when he stayed altogether too sober. And Scotty, of course, had not even tried and was even soberer, feeling the weight of command settle on his shoulders, beginning to fear that it might stay there this time.

Yes, have to do something for Scotty, even if it was only the umpteenth question for the umpteenth time. In Just a second-Bones-“

The soft voice—God damn it, he was not going to start hallucinating!

The hand touched his shoulder and he flung himself to his feet, stumbling.

Jim caught him.

He couldn’t speak. He pried himself away to look. Not possible! But the face—could not be another face like that in the universe. The eyes. The body under his hands, in his arms. No android body, surely, no illusion—Oh, God, it could be any of those things, but somehow he knew that it wasn’t

“Jim! Oh God, Jim-“

“It’s true, Bones. It’s all right now. It’s me.”

Stop blubbering, McCoy told himself. You’re a doctor, not a—

He couldn’t think of anything. He lifted his head and started to seize the broad shoulders, swing him around, look at him—

And met resistance. “A moment, before you turn,” Kirk said. It was an order and McCoy blinked and stood quiet, trying to come to attention and reorganize his mind.

“Spock?” he asked.

“He’s all right,” Kirk said. I am, too. However, there are two of me. It’s complicated, but that’s all right, too. Also, we have a guest, and—she’s all right Sorry to spring it on you, but we’ll explain.”

The arms let him turn—caught him when he sank down on the desk, not sure whether he was feigning the sagging of his knees.

“I don’t think I want to know,” he said in his best manner of long-suffering.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Would you call that an emotional display to end all emotional displays, Doctor?”