James flashed a tiny, quick look to Kirk acknowledging that fact—and a kind of astonished wonder at it.
But his eyes were for Spock and so were the Commander’s. They were drinking in the Vulcan, the living sight of him, and Kirk did not blame them. Kirk handed the spray can to James. “Try this on your hands and legs. It looks like we’re in this together.”
James’s grin answered his. “Sorry, Captain. I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, Jim.”
So it was to be as simple as that—name and rank. “My thanks, James,” Kirk said. “For everything.” He looked up to meet the woman’s eyes. “And—to you also, Commander.”
“My pleasure, Captain,” she said gravely, just a faint crinkle around her eyes acknowledging his nakedness and her appreciation. And then she did smile. “The original—to the life.”
He laughed softly. “I should have a word or two to say about that.” He bowed fractionally. “It would have been—my pleasure.”
She smiled a little archly. “Come now, Captain, you wouldn’t want to spoil the value of a good secret. Would you defend a lady’s honor by calling her a liar?”
“I’d call her-skillful at bluff.”
She laughed silently. “Oh, well, precious few secrets around here today.” She turned to James. “And time for still fewer. Give me that can and join the Captain.”
“What—I” James said as she appropriated the can.
“Well, it will hardly work through clothing,” she said. “As the Captain found out. Even, I’ll warrant, Mr. Spock. What makes you different?”
James contrived to look indignant. “Well, for openers, I don’t have much clothing in the first place. Most of me is pretty—accessible. Give me the can and I’ll—”
“One does not slide down a pole only on—the accessible.” She tweaked the opening of the tunic aside, revealing less severe friction burns on the chest, abdomen, disappearing down into the briefs.
Abruptly Kirk became aware of all of that, too. Damn.
“In the second place,” James said, coloring, “the agreement about—command—was only for the duration.”
The duration endures,” she said. “I trust it will endure for a long time. Come now, you have no secrets from me. Let’s go.”
Kirk looked at them speculatively as their eyes locked in silent contest.
And Spock suddenly appeared from somewhere and dropped a robe around Kirk’s shoulders, dropped another into James’s lap.
It broke up the contest and the two looked up in astonishment.
Kirk slipped into the robe—and practically disappeared into it. It looked like Omne—something in Black and softness, a sensuous velvet.
Kirk slashed the tie tight around his waist and found Spock turning up six inches of sleeve for him and looking at him oddly.
Kirk shrugged. “The bigger they come—” He gentled his voice. “I didn’t break into little pieces, Spock. Thank you.”
“Captain,” Spock said grimly. “I was in his mind—at the last. You have no idea. The malevolent intention. For you, for James. For the galaxy. And—the scope of the mind, the size. And he still lives—in the same galaxy with the two of you.” Spock looked down, somehow managing to stress Kirk’s smallness even against himself.
“All right, Spock,” Kirk said with more calm than he felt. “And—on the same planet. We’ll get moving. And it may have to be the hard way. All I found was a monitor screen room.” He looked down at James. “I suggest—one way or another—within the next couple of minutes.”
James grinned wryly and nodded.
Kirk drew Spock aside with the manner of a briefing and turned both their backs on the other two. He could hear little noises in the background. And he could feel—well, damn near feel—slender, strong hands—
“You might,” he said firmly to Spock, “be able to coax those screens to find us a control room, even a transporter room.”
“Not necessary, Captain,” Spock said. “When I was looking for the way to you, I also found the way out. The control room. Very near to where you were. I can find it-Kirk remembered not to pound him on the back, put it into a grin. “And Omne’s lab?”
“No, that I did not get, even at the last. He guarded it. Do you know, he never believed I could beat him? Couldn’t believe that I had. Wouldn’t give up—purposes—elemental needs. Wouldn’t believe that he could die—even knowing that he would live again. Didn’t believe it even as he died—”
Spock reeled against him, and Kirk caught his shoulders and held him until the moment passed.
“You almost liked him, didn’t you?” Kirk said.
“No,” Spock said. “But I saw him.”
Kirk nodded. “I did, too, a little.”
“And did not forgive.”
“No.”
“Nor I.”
“We’re talking about him as if he were dead.” Spock nodded. “He is. We have to kill him.” Kirk kept his back to the bed, but permitted himself to check on the progress of James and the Commander—at least permitted his attention to shift to it; he really couldn’t help being aware.
The two weren’t really embarrassed with each other, he realized. The touch was medical, but not impersonal, and not resented. As if a bond had formed very quickly and included even the fact of her strength.
Well, he was capable of that, Kirk thought. Why not James? But it was a little disconcerting to feel the same kind of half-playful, half-serious challenge he would have put up. And her silent, laughing, teasing response-Kirk drew Spock a couple of steps further from the bed, but it didn’t seem to help. This—between James and me,” he asked quietly. “What is it? It seems to be getting stronger. It’s not—through you?”
“No, ” Spock said. “Nature unknown, Captain. I hypothesize a kind of resonance. The too-similar structure, similar minds. Possibly fading with different experience, renewing itself again with closeness or increased knowledge. Disturbing for you. Possibly dangerous.”
Kirk grinned faintly. “Disturbing, at least. Dangerous?”
“If it persisted, you would always be too aware of each other. Feeling each other’s pain, other sensations. Distracting. In a fight, possibly deadly.”
“I see what you mean,” Kirk said. “Well, later for that, too.”
He felt that the clothes situation was practically in hand, and after a moment turned. James was just pulling the robe tight and the thin silk showed that he had repossessed the briefs. Kirk rather envied him that, but not the flamboyant silk of his robe. He supposed that it was a fair contest for who looked or felt most ridiculous. The Commander finished with the sleeves and Kirk said, “Let’s go. Lead on, Mr. Spock.”
Spock nodded and led through the tunnel to the viewscreen room. Kirk followed, then took the lead to press the studs as Spock picked another tunnel, guided Kirk with a touch on his shoulder.
They broke through presently into a large control center, and Kirk followed Spock to what looked like the main console. Spock scanned the controls and translated quickly. “A transporter. Override controls for most systems. Everything we should need—except that I do not expect Omne’s secret lab to show on any map, plot, or viewscreen.” He turned to face Kirk. “However, we have control of the main planetary defense shields.”
‘Then we must beam to the ships,” the Commander said immediately, “and destroy the planet.”
“Planet?” Kirk said, feeling a little slow.
“No option,” the Commander said. “Omne—and Omne’s process—must not be loosed on the galaxy, nor on the two of you. It really will buy the galaxy, and he knows how to use it. Empire, Federation, your species and mine, Klingons—any species capable of personal loyalties and loves. Perhaps even others. Altered duplicates, impostors, one mind in another body. The evil is unlimited—and only we can limit it”
“Find Omne,” Kirk said. “He is the evil.”
“Not possible,” the Commander said, meeting his eyes. “While we looked, he could be moving, blocking our escape, working from an auxiliary control system. He could be anywhere within thousands of miles. It would fit his psychology. No half-measures, and we can take none. No, Captain, the planet has to go.”
“There are innocent lives here, too,” Kirk said.
