Black Fire Read Free

rest.
    "Well, Doctor, make it fast. I've a ship ta hold together," he blurted out as he entered the room.
    "Slow down, Scotty. You can't hold it together in that state. I'd recommend at least a few hours' sleep," McCoy advised.
    "Is that why ye called me ta Sick bay, Doctor? I don't ha' the time to rest now."
    "No, Scotty. It's Spock. He wants to speak with you, and won't rest until he does. Try to calm him down."
    Spock opened his eyes. Speaking deliberately, and with great effort, he addressed the engineer. "Mister Scott—sabotage—it had to be an act of sabotage—a bomb—nothing on the bridge could have caused an explosion of that magnitude—must be an intruder on board …"
    "Aye, Mister Spock. That thought crossed my mind also. I've checked our personnel lists. There's no one on board who shouldna be. All are Starfleet cleared."
    "An intruder could have slipped through Starfleet security—look further. Ship's status—tell me… ." An involuntary gasp escaped him. He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to regain his lapsed control.
    Scott reported succinctly. "We came away in verra good shape, considerin'. There were five deaths on the bridge, and five seriously injured. All personnel, except those on the bridge at the time, are accounted for and uninjured. The upper hull has been jettisoned. We're cramped down here, but all is functioning and under control. Ye can relax!"
    "Good," Spock whispered. "Now help me up!" He weakly raised a hand for Scott's assistance. The engineer looked to McCoy, who motioned for Scott to leave.
    "Nothing doing, Spock. You can't get up. I just explained why you can't move. Christine." McCoy motioned to the nurse, who was standing ready with a hypo-spray. She quickly administered the strong sedation.
    "Make sure you keep him down," McCoy ordered, leaving the room to check on Kirk.
    The medi-scanner showed all life functions at very low levels. McCoy examined Kirk's unconscious form and double-checked the instruments in the auxiliary sick bay. He was not entirely comfortable with the secondary facilities even though they were regularly checked and kept ready for such an emergency. It wasn't
his
sick bay. The three medics who had continually hovered near Kirk since McCoy had gone to his quarters waited for further orders.
    "Get some rest. I'll stay with him—couldn't sleep anyway. Someone bring me some coffee." A young nurse he had never noticed before brought him a steaming hot cup.
    "Where have you been hiding, young lady?" the doctor asked, more as a means of distraction from his growing fatigue than anything else.
    "In the clinic, Doctor. I'm new on board. Cathy White. I'm one of the cadets from the Academy assigned for the training session."
    "Ah, yes. I almost forgot about that. Not a very standard training session, is it? It's not always this bad."
    "Will he be all right, sir?" She looked at the captain lying motionless on the bed.
    "I don't know yet. His condition is marginal. I really can't tell at this point. All we can do now is wait." He sat down on a chair beside the bed, cupping the hot coffee in his hand, staring at his friend, and feeling completely helpless.
    Christine Chapel's shouts interrupted the quiet of sick bay. "Mister Spock, you can't get up! Please lie down! Please!"
    McCoy hastened to the other room, followed by the young trainee, to find Spock standing shakily, using the bed for support with one hand and using the other to brace his injured back. Either he wasn't trying to mask the pain or he wasn't succeeding in his attempt, McCoy wasn't sure which. Christine turned to him as he entered.
    "I really tried to keep him flat, as you ordered, but he won't listen!"
    "I'll handle this, Christine. Just leave us alone, please."
    "Yes, sir," Christine responded, grabbing Cathy White and heading for the door.
    Cathy was not prepared for such dire emergencies as were taking place one after the other aboard the
Enterprise
. "Is it always this