The Autobiography of James T. Kirk (29 page)

“Was it … painful?” Mom said. I had watched Aurelan die in unimaginable pain, and Sam had to have gone in much the same way.

“No,” I said, “it was quick.” The circumstances of what happened on Deneva would not become public, so I thought it was a useful lie. “How’re the twins?”

“They keep us up a lot,” Dad said, “but they’re healthy.” Aurelan had given birth to twins two months before Sam was transferred to Deneva. The babies were deemed too young for space travel, so Mom and Dad offered to care for them until they’d reached six months, when it was safe for them to go. Now, though …

“I’m going to take Peter to Starbase 10,” I said. “He’ll get quick passage back to Earth from there.”

“You can’t …” Mom said, pausing. “Can’t you bring him—”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. I had known that the appropriate thing to do was to bring Peter home, but I just couldn’t. First Edith, and now Sam. It was all I could do not to crumble. If I went home, I felt like I might not ever leave. But I could see the hurt in Mom’s expression. She needed me.

“It’ll be fine,” Dad said. “How is he?”

“He’s a trooper,” I said. It was the truth. Peter, though sad, was holding up well. He seemed curious about the workings of a starship, and the crew had stepped in nicely as caregivers. While we talked, Sam’s two babies, Joshua and Steven, woke up and began crying.

“You take care of yourself …” Dad said, his voice cracking. I could see he was about to cry. “We love you.”

I smiled and turned off the viewer.

I felt guilty; I hadn’t seen Peter all day. I left my quarters and went to the rec room. Peter was there, playing three-dimensional chess with Spock. The ship’s quartermaster had fitted him into a gold command uniform. I went to the food dispenser, got a cup of coffee, and joined them. I asked how the game was going.

“Mr. Kirk has your predilection for unpredictability,” Spock said.

“My dad taught me to play,” Peter said.

“Then you and I had the same chess teacher,” I said. “I hope he let you win every once in a while.”

“Not really,” Peter said. “Dad said I would never learn anything that way. I did beat him once, though.” I watched them play for a little while. Spock eventually beat him, but it wasn’t easy. Then Spock excused himself. I really didn’t want him to leave; when I was alone with Peter, the pressure to connect with him was overwhelming.

“Should I set up another game?” he asked. I said sure. I watched Peter as he put the pieces in place. He reminded me of Sam; same color hair and eyes, same intensity. He was focused on setting up the game, but I could see the sadness. I didn’t know what to do for him. And then I remembered when Mom had left, what Sam did for me.

“Peter, do you miss them?” He stopped putting the pieces on the board. “It’s okay to miss them.”

I hugged him for a while.

“He’s kind, and he wants what’s best for us,” Carolyn Palamas said. “And he’s so lonely. What you ask would break his heart. Now how can I …”

I was on Pollux IV, otherwise known as planet Mount Olympus, and I was the prisoner of a man calling himself Apollo. This was one of my most fantastic encounters; a being who claimed to actually be a Greek god. He was from an advanced race who had visited Earth in the distant past and had seemed like gods to the primitive humans of prehistory. It wasn’t hard to understand why, even to me: he controlled an incredible power source that he could channel through his body. When we first arrived, he had reached out with a force field like a giant hand that “grabbed” the
Enterprise
. Spock stayed on the bridge, while I took a landing party down to meet him. He stood in front of his temple, the source of his power, and told us he expected we’d become his worshippers again. And then, like any accomplished Greek god, he seduced a human woman, who happened to be one of my crewmen.

Lieutenant Carolyn Palamas was an expert in archaeology, anthropology, and ancient civilizations. She was stunning, intelligent, and had fallen head over heels in love with a guy in a toga. He’d “magically” put her in a pink dress before taking her off alone. She had been a consummate professional for the year or so she’d been on the ship, but now she was willing to give it all up. And it was making me ill. Not because I looked down on it, but because I understood it.

The double tragedy of the deaths of both Edith and Sam in my own life forced me to retreat from the emotional world. I avoided connection with others, and I was critical of it in my crew. So now, I’d asked her to spurn him. My hope was that if he lost her, he’d be weakened and vulnerable. She initially refused. She’d forgotten her duty for love. I had to remind her.

“Give me your hand,” I said. She gave it to me and I grasped it firmly. I appealed to her sense of loyalty. I gave her a long speech about how we were tied together beyond any untying, that all we had was humanity. She said she understood, and stood up. I wasn’t sure I’d gotten through. I could tell her that I was speaking from experience, that I’d given up my love for duty. But I didn’t want to. I wanted her to give me what I wanted without question.

She would. She walked off, and soon after, the storm clouds brewed, lightning cracked, and in the distance Carolyn screamed. Apollo had shown us that he had powers that conceivably could control the weather on this planet, and I had assumed this meant she’d done what I asked. Spock, still on the
Enterprise
, had figured out a way to penetrate the force field holding the ship, and fired phasers at Apollo’s temple. The god alien returned, but too late; we’d destroyed the source of his power. We found Palamas bruised and beaten. He’d attacked her. Apollo, devastated, weakened, literally faded away. We’d won. But it didn’t feel like a win.

Back on the ship a few days later, I was on the bridge. McCoy walked in. He told me that Carolyn Palamas had come to see him, not feeling well. I asked if she brought some kind of infection back from the planet. McCoy smiled, ruefully.

“You could say that,” McCoy said. “She’s pregnant.” I was stunned. I saw Spock turn from his scanner. It seemed impossible; they were different species.

“Interesting,” Spock said. “There are many ramifications about having an infant born on the
Enterprise
who may have inherited some or all of his father’s abilities.” I was determined that this child was
not
going to be born on my ship. I told Chekov and Sulu to set course for Starbase 12 at our maximum safe speed, and then left the bridge for sickbay.

Palamas was in a diagnostic bed. Scotty stood by her; before Apollo had come into the picture, he had been pursuing a relationship with her, albeit unsuccessfully. He looked affectionate and concerned, and she seemed comforted by his presence.

“Mr. Scott, I believe it’s still your shift,” I said.

“Yes, Captain, I was just looking in on Carolyn.”

“I believe the medical staff is well equipped for that,” I said. Scotty nodded and repressed his annoyance before turning to Palamas.

“I’ll stop in later,” he said, then left us. She looked at me with a smile that I could only describe as chilly. I asked her how she was feeling, and she said she was experiencing a little nausea. I told her we were on our way to Starbase 12, which would have the necessary facilities to deal with the birth of a child with both human and alien blood, and that I would happily grant her the traditional two-year leave of absence.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I’ll be resigning my commission.”

“You don’t have to decide that now—”

“It had nothing to do with the pregnancy,” she said. “I decided on Pollux IV.” She didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t have to. I’d pushed her too hard. At the time, I didn’t think I had a choice; in retrospect, however, once I found out Spock could destroy the temple, I probably didn’t need her to spurn Apollo for the mission. Maybe just for myself.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I’m very tired,” she said, as she turned away from me on the bed.

“Of course,” I said. “Let me know if there’s anything you need.” She wouldn’t; I lost touch with her as soon as she left the ship.
*

During this period, the only personal connections I relied on were with Spock and McCoy. McCoy and I went back far enough that our friendship was like old leather. Spock’s friendship was different; because of his devotion to Vulcan principles, it never felt close, and he never required emotional support from me. But I could always count on him to be there. So the one time he was in emotional distress, I knew I had to be there for him.

Spock was the one member of the crew that I never had to worry about losing to romance. He didn’t seem the least bit interested in women (despite the many romantic overtures made by the ship’s head nurse, Christine Chapel). Which is why the events that transpired involving Spock’s wedding came as a complete shock.

It began with Spock throwing a bowl of soup against a wall and heatedly asking for a shore leave to his home planet.

I had no idea what the hell was going on. I soon found out that if I didn’t get Spock to Vulcan, he would die.

I learned something that, at that time, few other non-Vulcans knew. Spock was going through the “
Pon farr
,” a kind of crazed sexual fever that men on his planet went through every seven years. The Vulcans were barbarians in the ancient past, and though they were among the most civilized races in the Galaxy now, their people had to let their inner barbarian out once in a while to allow them to mate. This mating rage was caused by a biochemical imbalance that, if not heeded, would eventually kill him. It explained a lot, and though in the last 20 years, the Vulcans have become more open about their mating practices, at the time, this was a well-guarded secret.

So I had to get him to Vulcan, and I violated orders to do it. I wasn’t going to let my friend die.

When we arrived, Spock asked me and McCoy to join him on the surface for a ceremony. I’d never been to Vulcan before; the sky was red, the breeze was hot, and the air was thin.

The ceremony was very primitive, held in an ancient outdoor stone arena with a gong in the center. It was astounding to find out how important Spock’s family was. The wedding was officiated by T’Pau, who’d been a leader on Vulcan for over a century.

Spock’s betrothed was a beautiful woman named T’Pring. The ceremony began; it was, to use Spock’s favorite term, “fascinating.”

And then everything went to hell. T’Pring referenced an ancient law that allowed her to choose a champion to fight for her. Spock was going to have to engage in a battle to win his bride. And no one, especially me, expected that the champion T’Pring chose would be
me.

I would find out later that T’Pring had devised a strategy to get out of marrying Spock, as she had her eye on another Vulcan. By choosing me, she all but guaranteed that neither Spock nor her “champion” would want to marry her, thereby leaving her available.

I agreed to fight Spock, but I hadn’t read the fine print; the battle was to the death. We were handed
lirpas
, ancient staffs with a blade on one end and a weighted cudgel on the other. Spock, lost in his fevered stupor, was clearly out to kill me, and he knew how to use the weapon. He sliced open my chest, knocked me on the ground. I was able to get a few shots in, but I was losing.

McCoy stepped in, told the Vulcans that the air was too thin for me, and said I needed a shot to help me breathe. He gave it to me, but it didn’t feel like it was helping that much. We were given new weapons:
ahn woon
, similar to bolos. Spock had me on the ground right away; his
ahn woon
bands were tightly wrapped around my neck, and Spock wasn’t letting up. Everything went black.

“How do you feel?” It was McCoy. He was standing over me in sickbay.

“My throat,” I said. And then I remembered Spock choking me with the
ahn woon
. I put it all together. “That shot you gave me—”

“Neural paralyzer,” McCoy said. “Very low dosage, so it took a minute to knock you out.” I sat up in the bed.

“What about Spock?”

“He’ll be beaming up soon,” McCoy said. “His fever seemed to have broken. I think he wanted to say goodbye to everybody. So, am I going to get a thank-you?”