sensed not the faintest response from her brain.
Her eyes, which had been an unusually intense shade of green, had turned silky gray. Spock had seen the same film begin to thicken over Jim Kirk’s eyes as they carried him off the bridge.
“The danger is past,” Spock said. He looked up, and met the gaze of each security officer. “The web has ceased to grow. Commander Flynn is dead.”
al Auriga turned away; Neon snarled low in her throat. Spock wondered if he would have to defend Mordreaux.
Neon settled back on her haunches. “Revenge,” she whispered wistfully, then, in a stronger voice, “duty. Faithfulness, oath, duty.”
Spock stood up. “Where did you capture Dr. Mordreaux?” he asked Flynn’s second in command.
“We didn’t,” al Auriga said dully. Slowly, reluctantly, he faced Mr. Spock again. “He was here. He was locked in. Mandala—Commander Flynn ordered me to have the ship searched. For a double.”
Spock raised one eyebrow. “A double.” Before he considered that unlikely possibility he had to explore the probability that security had slipped up. “Who was on guard?”
“Neon. It was Jenniver Aristeides’ watch, but she’s in sick bay—Mr. Spock, I’m sorry, I don’t really know what happened yet. I just found out she was ill and I thought it more important to start the search.”
“Indeed. What other orders have you given?”
al Auriga took a deep breath. “The guard’s to be doubled. What I want is what Commander Flynn wanted all along—to move the prisoner to a security cell. Do the orders to keep him here still stand? Is the captain capable of giving orders?”
“No, Lieutenant, he is not. But those are my orders, and they still stand.”
“After what’s happened—” The resentment burst out in al Auriga’s voice.
“The captain understood my reasoning,” Spock said, all too aware that somehow his reasoning had proved faulty.
“This is crazy, Mr. Spock. He got out before. Even with a doubled guard, maybe he could do it again. He could retrieve his gun from wherever he hid it. The description we got was a twelve-shot semi-automatic, so he’s got ten more of those damned slugs ... somewhere.”
“The orders stand, Mr. al Auriga.”
He heard footsteps and glanced over his shoulder before the sound came within the range of human hearing. A medical technician came pounding around the corner. He looked harried and stunned. Blood smeared his tunic.
He fumbled his medical kit open even before he slid to a stop beside Mandala Flynn’s body. Kneeling, he felt for a pulse and looked up in shock.
“For gods’ sakes, don’t just stand there!” He jerked a heart stimulant out of his bag, to begin resuscitation.
Spock drew him gently but insistently away from Flynn.
“There is no need,” he said. “There is no reason. She is dead.”
“Mr. Spock—!”
“Look at her eyes,” Spock said.
The tech glanced down. It was al Auriga who gasped.
“That’s the way ...” The technician met Spock’s gaze. “That’s the way the captain’s eyes look. Dr. McCoy is operating on him now.”
Spock deliberately turned his back on the technician. He would not think of Jim Kirk’s being mutilated further in a useless attempt to save his life.
A thumping noise startled them all.
“Let me out, do you hear?” Dr. Mordreaux shouted, banging on the door again. “I didn’t do anything! What am I being accused of this time? I tell you I’ve been right here since you brought me onto this damned ship!” al Auriga turned slowly toward the closed door, his body tense with anger. Spock waited to see what the security officer would do; he waited to see if the scarlet-eyed man could control himself sufficiently to take Mandala Flynn’s place. al Auriga suddenly shuddered, his hands clenching into fists, and then gradually he relaxed. He turned to the med tech, who was still standing helplessly beside Flynn’s body.
“Do you have a sedative you can give him?”
“No!” Spock said sharply.
The two other men stared at him. Neon, ignoring them all, slid the stretcher from its compartment in the abandoned medical kit and began to unfold it.
“Mr. Spock,” al Auriga said, “I can’t question him when he’s hysterical.”
“Dr. Mordreaux has been under the influence of far too many drugs administered for far too little reason since before this trip began,” Spock said. “Unless he is permitted to recover from their actions we will never hear a coherent story from him. Commander Flynn ordered a search of the ship, did she not?”
“Yes,” al Auriga said.
“In that case perhaps you should proceed.”
“It’s begun,” the security officer said. Then he cursed very softly. “And we’ve got to find that damned gun.”
“You have, of course, searched Dr. Mordreaux?”
al Auriga froze. “Oh, my gods,” he said. “I don’t think anybody has. Neon—?”
“Prisoner, securities, separation,” Neon said. She smoothed the rippling stretcher into a flat silver sheet and pushed it down till it nearly touched the deck. “Corridor, cabin, separation.”
“None of us has been near him. Commander Flynn was going to search him, I think, but...”
“We had better do so now,” Spock said. “Unlock the door, and stand away from it.”
As al Auriga unlocked the door, Neon lifted Mandala Flynn onto the stretcher, then floated it, and its burden, to waist height. She moved it nearer the med tech, who took hold of the guiding end of the stretcher and stood looking blankly down at it.
“Take her to stasis until after the viewing of her will,” Spock said. “Neon: Neon, doorway, offset.”
The med tech got out of the way; Neon inclined her head in acquiescence and moved to one side of the door, ready to spring in and help if necessary.
“Dr. Mordreaux,” Spock said, loudly enough for the professor to hear, “please calm yourself. I am coming in to speak to you.”
The pounding subsided. “Mr. Spock? Is that you, Mr. Spock? Thank gods, a rational person instead of these military-bureaucratic idiots!”
Spock pushed the door open. He was prepared to move with every fiber of strength and speed he possessed to prevent another spiderweb bullet’s being fired. But Dr. Mordreaux stood stock-still in the center of his cabin, his arms spread stiffly. When he saw Spock his eyes widened, but he did not move. “Mr. Spock, what happened?”
Spock glanced down at his blood-stained shirt and hands, but did not answer. “I must search you, Dr. Mordreaux.”
“Go ahead,” Mordreaux said with resignation, and some appreciation of irony. “I’m getting quite good at following the protocol.”
Spock searched him swiftly. “He is unarmed.”
al Auriga scanned the cabin with his tricorder.
“Mr. Spock, what is it I’m supposed to have done?”
“Captain Kirk has just been shot, Dr. Mordreaux.”
“What? And you suspect me?”
“There were several witnesses.”
“They’re lying. They’re lying just like everyone else has lied about me. I haven’t hurt anyone, I haven’t done anything. All I ever did was help my friends fulfill their dreams.”
However damning the truth might be, if Spock withheld it now, the professor would never have reason to trust him again.
“Sir... I am one of the witnesses to the assault.” He held out his bloody hands.
Mordreaux stared at him, stunned. “You—! Mr. Spock, how can you believe this of me?”
“There’s no gun in here,” al Auriga said, shutting off his tricorder. “He must have ditched it. I’ve got to help
