The Autobiography of James T. Kirk (32 page)

“It is, however, a logical choice, Captain,” Spock said. “A gratifying recognition of your service and abilities.”

“Don’t get all mushy on us, Spock,” McCoy said.

I brought up the fact that it left open the question of who would replace me. I let the implication hang there for a moment and looked at Spock with a smile.

“Captain Spock,” McCoy said. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Spock didn’t seem to take the bait, so I explicitly told him that Nogura said the “big chair” was his if he wanted it.

“I am honored by your faith in me,” Spock said, “but I must respectfully decline.”

I was somewhat taken aback. I wanted Spock to take over; it was a way for me to maintain connection with the ship and the crew. I found myself getting annoyed; this had hurt my feelings. I asked him why. He told me he had decided to resign his commission and return to Vulcan at the end of our tour.

It was really too much for me to take. I asked him to reconsider. He thanked me and said he appreciated it, but that his decision had been made. We hung in the awkward silence for a few moments, and then he excused himself. After he left I turned to McCoy.

“Did you know that was coming?”

“No idea,” McCoy said. “But I’m not surprised.”

“Why not?” I said. McCoy laughed and took another sip of his drink. He reminded me of how much Spock had changed in the years since we served together.

“Would you have ever thought that stick-in-the-mud we took that shuttle ride with would become your best friend?” I had to laugh at that too. When Spock first began serving with me, he’d been cold, distant, and harsh. As time went on, he seemed more confident revealing his human side; he once said prolonged exposure to humans caused “contamination,” which had to be a joke, further proof he was okay with letting his human half peek through. I take some credit for this since I spent a lot of time teasing it out of him. Over time, however, I began to feel his friendship even though he couldn’t express it. And though I was his commander, we were equals, partners.

“Friendship was the furthest thing from my mind,” I said.

“Well, imagine how
he
feels,” McCoy said. “He probably never thought he’d ever have
any
friends. Then scuttlebutt starts that the person he’s closest to in the world is leaving him. How does he deal with that pain? The way his forefathers did, with logic.”

This was insight that was exceptional, even by McCoy’s standards. It never would have occurred to me that Spock would be hurt.

“He’ll become the president of logic, if there is such a thing,” McCoy said.

I suppose I understood. When I’d received news of the promotion I was ambivalent. I wanted to be an admiral; I wanted to get involved in Starfleet policy on a macro level. But I also didn’t want to leave the
Enterprise
.

Two months later, we’d received orders to move our patrol. Starfleet wanted to bring the
Enterprise
to Earth when we were done with our mission, so the Admiralty put us on a leg that brought us closer to the inner systems of the Federation. There had been twelve
Constitution
-class ships in the fleet, and half of them had been lost.
*
It meant something to the Admiralty to bring the
Enterprise
home intact. The plan, as I understood it, would be for the ship then to undergo a major refit, much larger than it had undergone before. They wanted essentially a new ship, but still make it seem like it was connected to the
Enterprise
; the survival and continuity of this vessel was in Starfleet’s view a powerful piece of propaganda.

So we would finish our five years, but maybe in less wild territory and on less hazardous duty. As it happened, our new patrol course put us only a few days away from Vulcan, and Spock came to me with a request.

“I would like to return to Vulcan,” he said. “And use my accumulated leave.” This was unusual; as far as I could remember, Spock had only asked for a leave once. As a result he had accumulated over four months of leave time. It didn’t take me long to figure out what he was doing. The leave period would end just around the time he would be mustering out of the service. When we returned the ship to Earth, there would be wide-ranging ceremonies and baldly emotional goodbyes. He was trying to avoid it all by essentially going on vacation until the end of his term of enlistment.

“You’re a complicated person, Spock,” I said. I was torn. I wanted Spock at my side when we brought the
Enterprise
home, not only was he my friend; he was objectively responsible for so much of the success of this mission. But I also respected his wishes. I granted his leave. We set course for Vulcan.

When we arrived, McCoy and I waited for Spock in the transporter room. Spock entered, carrying his own duffel. I relieved the technician on duty.

“Well, Spock,” McCoy said. “This is it.”

“What ‘is it,’ Doctor?”

“It’s goodbye,” McCoy said.

“Goodbye,” Spock said. McCoy shook his head.

“The least you can do is shake my damn hand,” McCoy said. He extended his hand and Spock took it. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Yes,” Spock said.

“You just can’t make it easy,” McCoy said.

“As I have perceived that you enjoy complaining,” Spock said, “that is undoubtedly what you will miss about me.” I laughed, and McCoy joined in. Spock turned to me. I took his hand. There was a lot to say. Too much, in fact, so we said nothing.

“Request permission to disembark,” Spock said.

“Permission granted,” I said. Spock stepped up onto the transporter pad.

I moved to the control panel.

“Say hello to T’Pau,” McCoy said.

“If you wish, Doctor,” Spock said.

“Not for me,” I said. “She thinks I’m dead.”

And as I energized the transporter, I watched Spock dematerialize. And as he disappeared, I thought I caught the hint of a smile.

About a month later we were on Delta IV. I had never been to the planet before; Starfleet maintained a base there, and the world itself was a curiosity to many of the other species of the Federation. The Deltans, humanoid but all bald, had a “sexually advanced” society, but what that meant hardly anyone knew, since they had strict rules about who they mingled with.

Will Decker, who was stationed there, looked very much the same as I remembered him; lanky and boyish, he was pleasant and friendly. We shared a bottle of Tellarite beer at a bar situated on a cliff, below us, the starbase, three-quarters surrounded by blue mountain foothills and facing a green sea. In the distance, the shiny metal spires of a city on an island (which the Deltans simply called “City Island”). The air was filled with the scent of flowers I didn’t recognize but that was nevertheless very soothing.

Will seemed happy that I’d looked him up. We’d only met that one time, now over five years before. Since his father’s death about a year ago, I had started to keep tabs on him. He had served on several ships, eventually on the scout ship
Revere
, where he rose to the rank of commander. He then stepped down from the center seat to join a program he had had a hand in devising.

“Emergency transporters for shuttlecraft,” he said, after I’d asked what led him to give up his command. “I coauthored the proposal with several engineers I’d gone to the academy with. Delta IV was the natural place to experiment because the Deltans have designed and manufactured small transporters for replicating plants from stored patterns.”

“How’s it been going?” I said.

“Well, if failure is the mother of innovation,” Will said, “then I guess we’re innovators.” I smiled at his little joke, as he continued. “We’re definitely a few decades away from them being standard equipment, but if at some point in the future we can save the life of someone in Dad’s situation, it’ll be worth it.” I nodded, trying to disguise my discomfort at the mention of Matt Decker’s death. He was doing work that, if successful, would be an incredible boon for Starfleet and possibly save hundreds of lives.

All inspired by a lie I had recorded in my log. I hoped he’d never find out that Matt Decker would not have used an emergency transporter to beam out of his shuttlecraft, even if he’d had one. I decided to change the conversation to the topic I’d made the trip to discuss.

“You’ve had a taste of command, don’t you miss it?”

“I don’t know,” Decker said. “I’m a scientist first, an officer second. And I’m pretty happy here.” I read something into this and took a gamble.

“What’s her name?” I said. In my experience the only thing that competes with commanding a ship is a woman. Decker smiled, and I knew I was right. He told me about a Deltan woman named Ilia who he’d started a relationship with.

“There’s a lot of misconceptions about them,” Decker said, a little defensively.

“I make no judgments,” I said. That was a bit of a lie; I was judging him, but not in the way he thought. He was choosing a settled life, and I had other plans for him. “To get to the point, Will, I need a new first officer, and I think you’re the man for the job.”

“Um … what?” Will said. I could understand his surprise. He didn’t know that I’d lost Spock, and that Scotty, who I’d made first officer, didn’t enjoy many of the administrative requirements of the job. I had looked at other members of my command crew: Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, all great officers, but I thought there was something missing with all of them. In truth, I now think any of them would’ve been a terrific choice in their own way, but I wasn’t just choosing my first officer for the next four months.

“It’s a great opportunity, sir,” Decker said, “but you’re almost done with your tour. I don’t know that I’d want to leave this project just for a few months as your exec.”

“I understand. I’m taking the
Enterprise
back to Earth, where it’s going to undergo a major refit,” I said. “I think it would be good if the next captain spent a little time on her with me.”

Decker was momentarily staggered, for good reason. I’d gone from offering him executive officer for a few months to offering him a
Constitution
-class ship for however long he could succeed at the job. Finally, he opened his mouth.

“Why me?”

“It’s a special ship,” I said. “It needs a captain with a solid background in engineering to supervise the refit. I’ve looked at your record; I want it to be you.” This explanation sounded a little thin, even to me. And I was being a little arrogant; I was going to have to convince the rest of the Admiralty of it, but since I was going to be one of them, I was confident I’d get my way.

“Captain Kirk,” Decker said, “I’m floored. It’s just so sudden.”

“Opportunities like this come along once in a lifetime,” I said. “Don’t let it pass you by.” I finished my beer and got up from the table, which I think startled him even more. I told him I’d be in orbit for two more days. The implication was clear; he had that time to decide whether to take the job. It was a brutal negotiating move, but it worked.

Decker showed up on the
Enterprise
the next day and accepted. He seemed a little discombobulated; I wondered if he had difficulty wrapping up his personal life that quickly. We left orbit, and I have to admit the next few weeks on the
Enterprise
were a little strange. The crew was guarded with the new first officer; I think many of them had hurt feelings that I didn’t choose them (although Scotty was relieved to wash his hands of the clerical duties). But Will worked hard to win them over. He was initially nervous and a little taciturn, but we soon developed an easy friendship and he fell into the role quickly. It was McCoy who decided, however, that I wasn’t seeing the truth in the relationship.

“Are you going to stay aboard?” I asked while we were having drinks. I was curious what McCoy’s plans were.

“I’m going to move on,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of medical experience that I can share with a new generation of doctors. It’s time to pass the torch. Besides, I can’t take orders from Decker.” That caught me off guard. He had given me no clue before then that he didn’t think Decker was up to the job. More important, I thought Decker was working out nicely. I asked him what his problem was.

“I don’t have a problem with Decker,” McCoy said. “I have a problem with how he got the job. You picked him because you felt guilty.”

“Guilty? What am I guilty about? I barely knew Decker when I gave him the job.”

“You’ve defined yourself by this job, and now that it’s coming to an end and you’re going home, you’re trying to fill a hole in your life you’ve been ignoring.” We sat there in silence for a while. I didn’t want to hear what he was saying, but I couldn’t ignore it.

“Go on,” I said.

“You picked a man like yourself, who doesn’t have a father, who you could mentor, help in his career,” McCoy said. “Do I have to spell it out? You don’t want a replacement; you want your son.”

“I don’t know if I agree with you,” I said. “But if you’re right, what’s the harm?”

“The harm is, there’s no real relationship there,” he said. “Someone could end up being very disappointed.” We finished our drink in silence. What McCoy said cut deep, but I didn’t let it get in the way of my plans. In hindsight, he of course was completely right; I was using Decker, and though he went on to something truly extraordinary, to this day I’m ashamed of the life I deprived him of because of my actions.