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    Star Trek - TOS - 30 - DEMONS

    Page 24
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      something else .. . something horrible. With grief and revulsion, she

      remembered Silek.

      But where was she now? There was something familiar about the place,

      as though she had been here before, perhaps with Sarek.. ..

      The starship. She put her feet on the floor and went to find Spock.

      "It worked!"

      Spock raised both eyebrows at the shout that emanated from his

      communicator. Next to him, Anitra and McCoy grinned.

      "Are you quite sure, Captain?"

      "The bridge crew is straggling in, making their apologies. They all

      seem to be their affable selves again." Kirk exchanged smiles with

      Uhura and Sulu, both at their stations. "What can we do to help you at

      this end?"

      "The buoys will be ready soon, Captain. When you have someone manning

      the transporter room, we'll send them up and then feed you the

      coordinates for their placement in the atmosphere."

      "Let me know when you're ready. Oh, and Mr. Spock.. ."

      "Captain?"

      "I have someone here who will be beaming down shortly." He smiled

      over at Amanda.

      The city began falling asleep. On the streets, a few souls dropped in

      their tracks and slept where they fell. In the air above them,

      passengers in skimmers slumped over their control panels and were

      gently shepherded by the computer to their preprogrammed destinations.

      They never disembarked. The thin, white cloud descended and found its

      way into homes, buildings, even the caverns of Gol, where T'Sai and her

      followers slept. It filled the halls of the empty academy --except for

      the one room which had been sealed with lead walls. People fighting,

      strangling, killing each other, fell to the ground together, locked in

      gruesome embraces.

      The planet Vulcan slept, and the evil faded.

      EPILOGUE

      "I think I need to talk to you," Anitra said. She stood hesitantly in

      the doorway of McCoy's quarters..

      "Come in, my dear." McCoy smiled warmly. "Can I get you something to

      drink?"

      "Absolutely," she said before he'd even had a chance to finish the

      question. "I assume it'll be sour mash."

      "Bourbon. Sour mash is mighty hard to find out here."

      "It'll do." She stood and looked around, obviously uncomfortable, as

      he poured the drinks. Her eyes were large and bright.

      He turned away from the cabinets and gave her one of the glasses he was

      holding. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. It has something to do with

      your leaving the service."

      Her jaw dropped. "How'd you know?"

      "Sit down, Anitra, and relax."

      She took a seat and he sat across from her behind the desk and held up

      his glass in a toast. "To your leaving the service."

      She raised her drink but did not smile. "You sound almost happy about

      it."

      "Quite the contrary. I am heartbroken. But I want what's best for

      you." He said it softly so that she would understand he was serious,

      then took a swallow of the whiskey.

      "Funny, I feel exactly the same way." She drank and leaned forward

      with a conspiratorial air. "You wanted to know about the ulcer. Now

      that I'm leaving, I can say that it had something to do with the fact

      that I wasn't cut out for intelligence work."

      "I thought it was just the one 'project'--"

      She shook her head. "They were always after me to get involved in more

      projects for them. It was beginning to get very political--" She took

      a huge gulp of her drink. "I don't feel guilty. I've done my

      duty--the galaxy is once again safe for the Federation's particular

      brand of democracy, so I told them where to put their projects and

      resigned my commission."

      "Good for you," McCoy said approvingly. "And I understand that the

      Vulcans are once again their logical selves."

      "Yes, but the toll on the population was great. Spock told me they

      found two of the boxes with the contents still intact."

      "My God! What did they do with them?"

      "You know the Vulcans. They're on display at the academy mus eum."

      McCoy stiffened. "Are they insane? What if one of those damn things

      decides to open?"

      Anitra shrugged and sipped her drink calmly. "Nothing will happen.

      They've got them shrouded behind a dozen force fields."

      "Well .. ." McCoy said grudgingly, "I still think they're asking for

      trouble."

      "If they are, you know what to do, Doctor."

      He smiled at that, but it faded quickly. "Where will you go?"

      "Back home, I think. I'd like to do private research, maybe with my

      dad."

      "We're all really going to miss you."

      "Promise me something," she said, her violet eyes large with sorrow.

      "Anything," McCoy said gently, suddenly touched.

      "Promise me you won't let them take the microphone out of the captain's

      shower again. I went to so much trouble this last time."

      "Why you--" McCoy said.

      She grinned, an imp once again.

      Beyond the outskirts of ShiKahr lay the small shrine that housed the

      city's dead. There were no bodies there, merely polished black

      markers, each inscribed with two names the name by which the deceased

      was known to all written in modern Vulcan, and the family name in

      ancient script. Recently, the number of new markers had increased

      startlingly.

      Spock knelt forward and brushed the sand away from two of the markers.

      T'Ylle and Silek were not physically here; the sand was too soft and

      shifting for burial. Their bodies had been cremated, and Sarek, as the

      closest living relative, had scattered the ashes on the desert wind.

      They were a part of the roaming desert tide now, part of the sand that

      polished the markers until they glistened in the sun.

      Spock touched the markers of the aunt and uncle he

      had never seen alive. To both of them, the planet owed its thanks,

      and they would never know. But the family would remember,

      After a time, he rose and headed slowly toward the city. Behind him,

      the wind stirred, uncovering a small object left by a mourner on

      Silek's grave.

      Encased in heavy crystal, forever safe from the ravages of wind and

      sand, was a small, perfect yellow rose.

     

     

     



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