“MY MIND TO YOUR MIND… MY THOUGHTS TO YOUR THOUGHTS….”
“Vulcan mind touch!” exclaimed Sulu in wonder. The chamber had become a tableau of wax figures. No one moved, everyone stared at the two Spocks. Even Keniclius, whose inaction showed he’d never anticipated anything like this.
Gradually the giant’s voice faded. Spock 1 fluttered an eyelid. It rose. There was the sound of a throat being cleared… softer, this time.
The larger Vulcan lowered the smaller model to the ground, facing Kirk.
“I am pleasantly surprised at your capacity for deductive reasoning, Captain,” said Spock 1. “When you are not being bellicose, there appears to be no end to your arsenal of forensic talents.”
Kirk, however, heard little if any of this. He’d lost control of himself again—motivated by a somewhat different reason, this time.
“Spock! You old!…”
“YOU NEEDN’T WORRY, CAPTAIN KIRK, ABOUT THE THREAT OF A MASTER RACE,” rumbled Spock 2. All turned to look at him. “THERE WILL BE NO GALACTIC MILITIA, NO OTHER STOCKS. THE THINGS THAT COMBINE TO MAKE SPOCK A CANDIDATE FOR SUCH A TASK ALSO WOULD NOT COUNTENANCE IT.”
“BUT WHAT OF MY WORK?” queried the desperate Keniclius. “IF ALL THAT I’VE FOUGHT FOR IS ALREADY ACCOMPLISHED—THE TIMES THAT I LIVED TO END ARE ALREADY ENDED—WHAT IS TO BECOME OF ME? THERE APPEARS TO BE NO REASON WHY I SHOULD CONTINUE TO EXIST….”
“On the contrary, Dr. Keniclius,” objected Spock 1, “I see every reason why you should remain active. Stay on Phylos with my surrogate. The concerted effort of two scientists, each with his own particular abilities and talents to enhance the other’s, might yet achieve a rebirth of Phylosian civilization… and enable them to contribute peacefully to the Federation.”
“MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY, MR. SPOCK,” agreed Spock 2.
“So one might assume, Mr. Spock,” agreed Spock 1.
The first officer’s successful recovery had pushed all primitive revenge-thoughts from Kirk’s mind.
“How does that sound to you, Dr. Keniclius? To bring life is even more important than bringing peace. If a way can be found to revitalize their race, the Phylosians have much to contribute to galactic culture.”
“I… I WOULD BE HONORED. IF I WOULD BE ALLOWED… YES, YOU ARE RIGHT, CAPTAIN KIRK. THE METHODS OF THE FEDERATION HAVE INDEED CHANGED FROM WHAT I AND MY BROTHERS KNEW….”
“Truly, such a thing had not been thought of.” Agmar looked excited and interested now. “Such a sudden change in thinking… it will be difficult….”
“You’ll manage,” said Kirk, too diplomatic to point out that they had no choice. He’d meant what he said. The Phylosians had some sterling qualities—once this master race business had been drummed out of them. He addressed the waiting Keniclius again.
“I’ll report your new work here to the Federation Science center. Not only do I think they’ll understand, they’ll probably want to send out several crews to assist you.”
And to make sure you don’t get the urge to make any more giant clones of anything, he added silently.
Keniclius solemnly shook hands with each of them in turn. Then Agmar and his companions escorted Kirk, McCoy, Sulu, and Spock back to the surface.
When the men of the Enterprise left, the two giant scientists were already discussing plans for curing the Phylosians’ sterility and expanding their knowledge of Phylosian culture.
Beaming up was uneventful, and there were the expected stolid greetings from Uhura, Kyle, Arex, and the rest of the officers—everyone carefully concealing his or her true emotions.
They entered the bridge where Scott—relieved, as usual—formally returned command to Kirk.
“Where to, Captain?” asked Sulu, back in his comfortable seat at the navigation console.
“Set a general course for the Omicron region, Mr. Sulu. I think everyone deserves an extended R & R, this time. I know I do!”
“Yes, sir!” Sulu responded gleefully.
“It’s a good thing we were able to stop Keniclius,” intoned McCoy, blatantly emphasizing the “we”. “Imagine… a whole shipload… maybe a whole city… full of giant Spocks!”
He put on an expression of exaggerated horror while Spock looked over distastefully from his position at the library control and tried to ignore McCoy.
“What a terrifying thought!…” the good doctor continued, unstoppable. “Giant Spocks running all over the place! Spocks towering over helpless villages, running amuck through peaceful farmland… turning!…”
“It might be easier to stand than you, Doctor,” interrupted Sulu inscrutably.
“What?” McCoy responded with outraged innocence. “I’m no giant.”
Kirk thought he saw an unholy gleam in Sulu’s eye.
“No,” the helmsman admitted, “the trouble is you never stop cloning around.”
McCoy chased him all the way back to engineering.
Scanning, formatting and basic
proofing by Undead.
Alan Dean Foster, [Star Trek Logs 02] - Log Two
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