Crisis of Consciousness (23 page)

The Kenisian handed Spock back the program module. “Please double-check this.”

Spock knew there was nothing wrong with the encoding. “Of course.” He took the unit and scanned it.

Now may be the appropriate time to attempt a meld.

With telepaths as strong as the Kenisians, the risks were great. But it could also mean the meld would be easier to perform and faster to achieve.

Cautiously, Spock surveyed the room. There were several scientists and technicians involved in various tasks. All were likely important to the mine preparation, and the only way to force their exit would be an accident of some type.

Scanning the area with his Kenisian tricorder, Spock found the plasma leak he’d created earlier. He quickly showed the data to Sciver, who used his own tricorder to verify it. Hopefully, Spock had been careful enough in his sabotage that Sciver would think it an accident.

“You must evacuate this section until the leak is sealed,” the Vulcan advised.

Sciver protested, “We don’t think it calls for all that—”

“For the safety of your team, I recommend otherwise. Free plasma in this quantity can wreak havoc with biological and technical systems alike. The room should be vented and the leak sealed. It shouldn’t take long.”

“But . . .” Irresolute as usual, the Kenisian hesitated. While Spock knew it was but one more example of the internal debate among hundreds of minds, he used the delay to prod Sciver.

“If you prefer, I will offer to stay and complete mine modifications, but I ask that Ambassador Pippenge and any nonessential personnel are removed from harm’s way.”

That Sciver didn’t discount that notion out of hand spoke to the level of dysfunction in the multigenerational multividual. Doubtless there were many within Sciver who did not trust Spock, but a greater number either did, or had realized the Vulcan’s deception and wished to aid him. Either way, the answer was, “Yes, very well.”

Looking confused, Pippenge withdrew with the Kenisian technicians and left Spock and Sciver alone in the huge lab.

“Engineering. This is Sciver.” There was no visible communications equipment, and so it was likely the Kenisian had technology similar to the Maabas’s implant. “We have discovered a plasma leak. I will transfer the specific coordinates to you. Please see that the leak is controlled. Then alert us in the main laboratory so we can fully evacuate for decontamination.”

Nodding to an unheard voice, Sciver looked at Spock. “We have time to install three more components. Please move quickly.”

“I shall.” Dropping his tricorder, Spock grasped the Kenisian man by his wrist and placed the fingers of his other hand to Sciver’s face and temple. “My mind to your minds.”

“GIVE ME YOUR ARM.”
In one hand Kirk held the splint he had gotten from sickbay. In the other he held the companion bone-knitter.

Scott hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” The captain looked to Palamas, then back to his engineer. “Is it the pain?”

“Oh, no, sir. The hypo did its job.” Scott glanced from the splint to Palamas.

“I see.” Kirk handed everything to Palamas. “Lieutenant.”

Smiling slightly, Palamas took both tools as the captain hovered close by.

“The splint just clicks on,” Palamas said as she gingerly placed it around Scott’s arm. “I’ll rotate the wrist slowly until it beeps, which means it’s properly set and ready for the bone-knitter.” She slowly adjusted his wrist, ever so delicately. “Don’t worry. I’ve used one before.”

Kirk heard the beep of the splint and then the whine of the bone-knitter.

Several engineers rushed by, some glancing over toward the three officers, but moving on. There was no time to linger. They knew that Mister Scott was counting on them. The captain remembered being that green, an ensign so focused on his duty that whatever else was happening didn’t matter, thinking that it must be so much easier at the top. The senior officers always had the answers, were always so cool, so calm and collected. If it wouldn’t undermine the chain of command, he’d love to take one of his junior officers aside, say Jolma, and tell them how he felt right now.

The whine of the bone-knitter stopped. The captain turned back toward them. A wave of relief descended over Scott’s face as Palamas locked the splint and returned the tools to the medkit.

“That’ll take some time to heal, but the knitter gave it a head start. Does it feel better?” she asked.

Scott wiggled his fingers. “Aye. Thank you, lass.” He stood up saying, “Now I need to work on that emergency bulkhead.” The engineer motioned up the corridor. “Hull breach just beyond, so I’ll need to get force fields in place before opening ’er up. Beyond that is the area I’ll need to access.”

“Scotty, we’re not only blind, but deaf,” Kirk said.

“We’ll see to it, sir.” The engineer motioned to Palamas.

“We?” she asked.

The chief engineer held up his splinted wrist. “Well, you’re not going to abandon your patient now, are you, Lieutenant? I’ll need someone to help.”

“Captain?” Palamas looked expectantly to Kirk for help.

“She’s had engineering experience, sir.”

“I see.” Kirk felt as if he was missing something. “If my chief engineer needs you, who am I to disagree?”

“Thank you, sir.” Scott grabbed a large toolkit with his good hand, and they exited to the corridor.

“How long?” the captain asked. He’d feel better about their plan if he could contact Spock again, to be sure things were properly timed. And none of it would happen unless the
Enterprise
was warp capable.

“Once we get that force field up, it won’t be long, sir.”

“Thank you, Mister Scott. Keep me informed. I’ll be on the bridge.”

Kirk headed toward the turbolift as Scott and Palamas moved toward the emergency bulkhead that had dropped to seal a hull breach.

“Where do we start?” she asked eagerly.

“Jefferies tube just before the emergency bulkhead.” The engineer led her to it and used the toolkit as a pointer. “You’ll have to go up. I’ll hand you what you need.”

Without hesitation, Palamas climbed in.

“You sure you don’t mind getting your hands dirty?” Scott asked as he opened his kit and took out a circuit meter.

She stopped and looked down at him over her shoulder. “Scotty, I’m an archaeologist.”

He smiled. “Aye. I forgot.”

“Well, don’t worry about me.” Palamas stopped at the end of the tube where the top opened onto relays, circuits, and conduits that twisted this way and that, all labeled with numerical or color codes.

“Steady yourself,” Scott said.

Palamas placed one boot firmly on a narrow step and her other on the one below it. “Should I describe what I see?”

“
I
could describe what you see,” the engineer pointed out. “To your left is a small, yellow node labeled 45D9. Do you see it?”

She found it, then peered down, saying, “I have it.”

He took the circuit meter and placed it under the arm with the splint and grabbed a new circuit module from the kit, then pulled himself up the Jefferies tube. Halfway up, Scott handed her the meter. “Take this.”

Palamas reached down. “This will tell me if the circuit is live.”

“Aye. Place it near 45D9 and if it’s green it’s live. But it won’t be.”

The A&A officer followed Scott’s instructions and when the meter neared the circuit, it flashed amber. “Yellow.”

“Yellow means it’s working but degraded. But that’s the same as not working when push comes to shove.”

Nodding, Palamas reached down to hand him the meter.

“Keep it,” he said. “There’s a little ledge to your left where you can stow it for now. You’ll need it again.”

Palamas eventually found it. Just a small outcropping from the tube that was probably an alternate hand-hold. It fit the meter perfectly.

“Take this one now.” Scott reached up and held out a tool. She’d seen this one before. It would pop the circuit out without her needing to touch it as it was likely to be hot.

After she removed the bad circuit, there was an audible warble in the hum of the tube around them.

“What happened?”

“Don’t you worry, lass. She just wants her circuit replaced.” He handed up the fresh one. “But it’ll get hot. Pull away the moment it’s in.”

Palamas stretched down and their hands met. Scotty passed her the new circuit and she smiled down at him. His forehead was damp with perspiration, and she noticed she was quite warm as well.

Swapping out the circuit module was as easy as he said, and the hum around them actually seemed happier than before.

Shifting one foot down, ready to leave the Jefferies tube, Palamas noticed Scott hadn’t moved. “We’re not done yet. That was just the circuit. Now we have to reroute the power that was routed away.”

Pulling herself back up, the lieutenant settled in. “I suppose I should have realized if it was this easy someone else would have taken care of it.”

Scott directed her to three conduits which needed to be passed to the previously failed circuits. It was as if he was reading from a technical manual, he knew just what she was looking at. He warned her off touching something before she even reached for it.

“Working on a starship is different than repairing a starbase,” Palamas said as she manipulated the connections at his direction.

“It is,” Scotty said. “You’ve got to see her as a living creature to really know her. And when she’s in starbase, and all her systems are down, it’s like she’s having an operation under anesthetic.”

“You never refer to the
Enterprise
as a thing, do you?” she asked. “Only ‘her’ or ‘she.’ ”

“Lots of people do that.”

“But you feel it,” Palamas said, and found it quite endearing. “She’s alive to you.”

“Aye.”

“You’re a passionate man,” Palamas said.

“The best engineers are.” He smiled back. “Tell me about your uncle.” He passed her another component. “Then fit this over the N131 cable and route it to the A544 receptacle. It fits but snugly.”

“My Uncle Elias. I only got to see him when he was in port, which wasn’t often. But when he was, we’d go everywhere together. He’d tell me about an engineering problem he had, or the interesting ship they had encountered. And he always brought me gifts.”

“Working a cargo vessel, he must have had his pick.”

“He was an engineer,” Palamas reminded him. “He
made
the gifts for me.” She struggled with the connection, but after putting some shoulder into it, Palamas managed to attach the cable. “That’s how I came to Starfleet with some engineering aptitude.”

She looked down at Scott and found him smiling. He said, “You love him.”

Palamas nodded. “Loved, yes. He’s passed.”

“I’m sorry,” the engineer said.

“Thank you. I never forget how dangerous this life can be. He knew it too, and he always said that he couldn’t even think of doing anything else.”

“How old were you?” Scotty asked. “When you lost him?”

“It was only four months ago.” Her voice wavered and trailed into a whisper.

For a while, they said nothing. Finally, Scott told her, “I think he must have been quite proud of you.”

Palamas nodded, and for the next few minutes, they worked silently. When they finished, the
Enterprise
officers were both tired, covered with sweat and coolant gel.

Scott backed out of the tube and Palamas slowly climbed down. Near the bottom, she lost her footing and with his good hand he steadied her.

“Thank you. Not my usual duty,” she said, nodding up toward the top.

“Ach,” he scoffed. “You’d get used to it in no time.”

“What’s next?” Already cooling off, the lieutenant was ready for their next task.

The chief engineer motioned toward where the emergency bulkhead had been. It was now gone and the corridor beyond was revealed to them. “Doin’ what the captain needs. Let’s give the
Enterprise
back her voice and ears.”

“I don’t see a breach,” Palamas said as they stepped into the corridor.

“Probably several micro fissures. Force fields will hold it until I have one of the lads come through with something more permanent.”

Ducking into a vertical access hatchway, Scotty handed her the toolkit and took a ladder rung with his good hand, letting his splinted one hang to the side.

“Up or down?” Palamas asked.

“Down. Here’s where the real work begins, Lieutenant. If you’re up for it.” Smiling again, the engineer seemed energized.

“I am if you’ll stop calling me lieutenant. It’s Carolyn.”

“Carolyn,” Scotty said, easily lowering himself one-handed down the ladder as if he’d done it a million times, “follow me.”

“SIR, SENSORS ARE
back online
,
”
the chief engineer reported.
“The main communication relays will be online in two minutes. It won’t take long to get under way.”

“Excellent work, Mister Scott. Kirk out.” They weren’t far from their destination, but getting there before the Kenisians was only part of the plan. The captain wondered how they would be received. The Sahntiek had been conquerors, and Spock’s report said the Kenisians knew they’d rebuilt their fleet.

Before losing communications,
Enterprise
had been hailing the system, but without reply. The only thing Kirk knew they would find when they reached the Sahntiek was the fleet of starships Zhatan feared. Long-range scans had confirmed their existence.

After thousands of years—and much of it under Kenisian oppression—there was no telling what the attitude of the Sahntiek would be to outsiders. Would they refuse contact, as the Maabas had? Would they attempt to strike the Kenisians first, and in doing so destroy Zhatan’s ship—along with Spock and Pippenge—which might also spark the
na’hubis
devastation that Kirk had hoped to avoid?

If Spock did his part, Kirk had time to warn the Sahntiek before Zhatan’s ship arrived. He might be able to resolve this without bloodshed. If they would listen to reason.

“MY THOUGHTS
to your thoughts.” The fingers of Spock’s left hand pressed into Sciver’s cheeks and temple. His right pushed Sciver’s wrist tightly up toward his own chest.