Star Trek - TOS 38 Idic Epidemic (28 page)

At least it was refreshing to see the medical person
nel who had been vaccinated coming out from beneath the cumbersome protective gear. And to see Human, Lemnorian, Caitian, and Hemanite patients
recovering.

But just as fast, the diagnostic beds filled with
Vulcans, Orions, Rigellians—and emptied, as fully
two-thirds of those with Strain D died within the first
twelve hours.

In the computer room, McCoy showed Sorel
Korsal’s new findings. “And there we went, possibly
contaminating the
Enterprise
with every strain and
substrain, when Sendet had carried up only a strain
which attacks iron-based blood—a strain for which
we now have a cure!”

“We had no way of knowing, Leonard.”

“No,” the Human doctor agreed, “no way.” He snorted derisively. “I was hoping to see Sendet hoisted on his own petard.”

“You do not mean that,” said Sorel. “You would
never wish illness on anyone.”

“No,” McCoy agreed. “I’ve seen enough to last a
lifetime.”

The intercom beeped. McCoy punched the switch,
considerably harder than he would have had to.
“McCoy here.”

“Gardens here, in the
Enterprise
sickbay, Doctor. I
think you will want to beam aboard. Mr. Spock has
gone into systemic failure.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Perfectly healthy, not medical personnel, and not of
mixed heritage, James T. Kirk was at the bottom of
the list to be vaccinated against the plague. That
meant he was stuck aboard the
Enterprise.
Everyone
who had been near Amanda between her exposure by
Sendet and her confinement to sickbay had been
inoculated. It seemed to work: no one else had come
down with the disease except Spock.

Not being on the priority list for the vaccine also meant that Kirk could not visit Spock, although
McCoy reminded him that he was not a doctor, and
could really not do the now-unconscious Vulcan any good. Somehow, though, he had the irrational feeling
that Spock would know he wasn’t there, and that if he
could be, perhaps he could will a fight for survival into
his friend.

Amanda was out of danger now, weak, greatly worried about Spock, but recovering. Sarek spent most of his time at her side, which McCoy said was
probably safer for him than anywhere else on board.
“All the medical staffs been vaccinated,” explained
his CMO, “not that Sarek could catch it from them
anyway. Either he’s already caught it from Spock, or
he’s safe unless the copper-based strain was brought
aboard by our carelessness.”

“The way Sendet brought aboard the iron-based
strain,” Kirk said angrily.

“We’ll know soon enough,” said McCoy. “We’re
filtering the air through the entire sickbay, not just the
isolation units. Sorel and the other Vulcans are stay
ing planetside for now—they’ve added to their tasks
trying to develop a quick test for the disease before
the symptoms start to show.” The doctor rubbed
weary eyes. “Things are
better
now that we’ve got the vaccine. So why are we busier and tireder than ever?”

“We only have part of the answer,” Kirk replied, “and we can’t implement it because we can’t make
vaccine fast enough.”

“I can’t keep Korsal and his sons on those drugs much longer, either,” said McCoy. “They’re not as dangerous as that drug I used on Spock the time I
needed so much blood for Sarek’s heart surgery—but
on the other hand, they increase production by only
twenty-five percent, not two hundred percent like that
Rigellian serum.”

“But the Rigellian serum—” Kirk began.

McCoy chorused with him, “—only works on peo
ple with copper-based blood.”

Kirk shook his head. “Bones, did you ever think
there’d be a time when we’d
wish
we were hip-deep in
Klingons?” Suddenly he realized, “Wait a minute!
Maybe we can be!”

“Huh?” said McCoy, that brilliant repartee evi
dence of how tired and overstressed the CMO was.

Kirk left McCoy’s office and went into the area
where Korsal was with his two sons. One look at the
younger boy, and he called, “Bones! Come here!”

Karl was asleep. When he didn’t wake at Kirk’s shout, though, both his father and his older brother
were immediately at his side. “What’s wrong with
him?” Korsal demanded as McCoy hurried in.

Kirk saw McCoy study the life-sign indicators over
the bed, but they meant nothing to him as he had no
idea what the vital signs of a half-Klingon, half-
Human boy ought to be.

The doctor peeled back one of Karl’s eyelids,
shined a light in—and the boy woke, feebly pushing
McCoy away and turning onto his side, sliding imme
diately back into sleep.

“He’s all right,” said McCoy. “He’s just exhausted.
I’m taking him off the drugs, effective immediately. He’s just too young to take the stress.”

Korsal looked from his son to the doctor, and Kirk
saw the emotions flicker over his face. “You are sure
he has not been harmed already?”

“Look at the indicators,” said McCoy. “The warn
ing is set to go off well above the danger levels, and it
didn’t. Would have in another few minutes, though.
Korsal, there’s no telling how many lives you’re saving; do you think we’re going to repay you by
allowing your son to come to harm?”

“No. I have observed your precautions. But now
your production of vaccine will be cut by one third.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Kirk.

Korsal stared at him, frowning. “What do you
mean?”

“Korsal, I can’t believe that the Klingon Empire
would maroon you here, on a Federation planet, with
no means of calling for help if you need it.”

“I report regularly to the empire,” Korsal replied,
“but my mission is to acquire and transmit scientific
data.”

“But you can contact the empire?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You
know
why! Even Klingons respond to a medi
cal distress signal! The moment you found out we
could make a vaccine from Klingon blood, why didn’t you send out a call for volunteers? Surely you’ve lived
among us long enough to know we wouldn’t take the
opportunity to lay a trap and kill them!”

Korsal was staring at him impassively, Kevin in horror. Then the boy looked to his father, equally
horrified. “I didn’t know you could call directly to the
empire. Why didn’t you, Father?”

Korsal walked heavily back to his bed and sat
down. “I can send a message that will reach an empire
outpost in approximately two days. No, I have not
sent such a message. Captain, have you thought about
what you are asking?”

“Help. From Klingons. Are you saying, then, that
Human prejudice is justified: that if a Klingon saw a
man bleeding to death by the side of the road, not only would he not help him, but he would rob him
before he left him to die?”

“Jim!” McCoy protested.

Korsal looked up, wearing a smile that just barely
showed the points of his teeth—a warning. Kirk had
seen that Klingon expression many times in a long
career, but never before from Korsal.

Then the Klingon said, “You are a soldier, Captain,
among your people that sets you apart. Among my
people, the fact that I am
not
a soldier sets me apart.
Despite that, I know something of military thinking.”

He continued, “If I sent a medical distress signal,
the empire would send help. But consider: those who
came to the aid of Nisus would take back a full report.
Captain Kirk, have Humans never engaged in biologi
cal warfare?”

The Eugenics Wars. Kirk’s stomach clenched. “We
consider it the most heinous crime imaginable,” he
replied.

“And to consider it so means that at some time in
your history your people have experienced it. Among
Klingons, it is considered equally reprehensible, dis
honorable, forbidden. However, every military man
knows that once a weapon exists—”

“—it will be used,” Kirk completed the statement. “A Klingon saying too, I take it.”

“An observation from life,” Korsal replied. “Now
do you understand, Captain? This virus has mutated into strains that are deadly, and rapidly so. It is
effective against every race in the Federation … but
Klingons are immune. It is a weapon that you cannot
turn back upon us.

“James Kirk, you cannot be so naive as to think that for all Klingon belief in the honor of direct confrontation, there are not those—and it takes only a few, even just one—who, if they knew about this
virus, would use it. Once loosed upon the Federation
at large—”

“—no cure,” said McCoy, “for the vast numbers of
Federation citizens whose blood is based on copper.
And for Humans and others with iron-based blood—”

“—the only cure,” Kirk took it up, “has to be made
from the blood of Klingons. To save their lives, and the lives of their families, what bargains might any
planetary government be willing to make?” He sup
pressed a shudder.

“And,” added Korsal, “it could have the effect of turning your race into … vampires, I believe, is the
legendary term … preying upon my race.”

“Oh, God,” said McCoy. “He’s right; we’d attack
their ships to get blood to make vaccine, and ratio
nalize it by saying they started it.”

By this time, Kirk was feeling thoroughly sick. “I didn’t realize there were Klingons who didn’t want
war.”

“Not
that
kind of war,” Korsal told him. “Not any
sane Klingon. However, just as among Humans there
are those—”

“You don’t have to say any more,” said Kirk. “Korsal, I am sorry. Thank God you thought it
through.”

“A scientist’s job, extrapolation,” said Korsal.

Then Kevin spoke up. “Father, now I understand why my admission to Starfleet Academy did not
disturb you.”

Korsal looked over at his son, but said nothing, so
the boy continued, “I expected it to, if it came,
because when Karl and I are grown you would have
had a choice of whether to return to the empire or remain in the Federation. If I had graduated from Starfleet Academy and you had returned to the em
pire, there was the remote possibility that we might
meet as enemies one day. But before my acceptance
came, the plague began—and we were immune. You
knew that you would not impart that information to
the empire. And that means … you can never go
home again.”