Return to Valjiir Stories
As soon as Ruth Valley had cried out Daphne’s name and collapsed, Irina had pulled Chekov to his feet. “Come with me,” she demanded, tugging him in the opposite direction. “Come quickly.”
“But Ruth…” he protested.
“Chione will help her,” Irina assured him as she ushered him into a lift car.
Chekov raised an eyebrow as his lover set the controls. “She will?”
“Yes.”
He paused a moment to make sure he wasn’t ignoring a non-existent obvious answer before asking, “Why?”
“Later,” she hushed him as the doors opened onto one of the hydroponic bays.
Some of Chekov’s old captors and co-workers from his re-education looked up from their labor as Irina guided him quickly across the bay floor. At her subtle prompting, he returned a few of their friendly waves. Once across the bay, she led him down a corridor and then turned into a small doorway.
“She won’t follow us here,” Irina said, as the door slid shut behind them. “She’s allergic to these.”
The room was small and dark, lit only by the starlight from wall-sized viewport. As Chekov’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could discern that shelves of potted plants lined the walls – Vegan moonflowers, perhaps. Their vines curled black and eerie from ceiling to floor.
“There’s much to tell you and little time,” Irina was saying, leading him to clear spot near the viewport.
They sat down cross-legged facing each other. Once in place, Irina seemed at a loss as to how to begin.
“I suppose I should begin at the beginning,” she said. “Dr. Sevrin was a very ill man…”
“Yes,” Chekov agreed. “He was insane.”
“He had contracted synthococcus novae…”
“Which made him insane,” the navigator supplied.
Irina’s frown was clearly visible in the starlight. “Pavel.”
“I know you respected him, however you must admit he was quite…”
She shook her head. “Pavel Andrevitch, you are perhaps the least convincing undercover agent Starfleet Intelligence has ever sent to attempt to infiltrate this organization.”
The sudden, almost casualness of this accusation momentarily took the navigator’s breath away. “Wh- Why would you say something like that?” he stammered.
“Because I am perhaps the most convincing agent they ever sent,” she replied, her eyes hard.
“Irina…” For a moment, he was stunned into silence. “When you said you were recruited…”
“If Sevrin had been satisfied to enlist only drifters and the disaffected he might never have aroused notice. But that didn’t suit him… didn’t fulfill his needs. He didn’t want to simply collect followers. He needed a certain type of follower. So he went about trying to conscript the brightest and the best – even from Starfleet’s Academy.”
“Irina,” he said as an apology.
“Of course, he did accumulate a certain number of followers without making too much effort. However there was a certain profile... a certain pattern to the recruitments with which he was personally involved. A particular type he was looking for…”
“And you fit that profile?”
“Perfectly.” He thought he could see tears glistening in her eyes. “Oh, Pavel, it wasn’t all lies. The things we talked of – the things I said of wanting to become a famous xenobiologist and be assigned to a research vessel in unexplored deep space…” She smiled sadly and stroked his cheek. “With you as captain – It wasn’t a lie. It was just a dream I had to put aside.”
He closed his fingers over hers. “Irina…”
“For the greater good.” She removed his hand. “I had thought – the people I reported to had thought -- a year, maybe two. He was already a sick man. It seemed only a matter of time before the paranoia and delusions would incapacitate him – neutralize him as a threat to the Federation... At the time I met you, Pasha, there was even the chance that he wouldn’t be interested in me at all… But he was… very interested…”
Chekov was silent, thinking again of the rumor that his first love had slept with that hideous old man.
“As I said, he was a carrier of a serious disease,” Irina continued. “In Federation space, with access to advanced medical technology, the risk of exposure was manageable for his followers. If we had shots… were screened regularly… But that wasn’t the Dream. Sevrin’s dream was of a cleansing life with primitives, free from technology. So he began to look for a drug to defend against streptococcus novae that could be produced naturally…”
The food is drugged, Daphne’s warning echoed in the navigator’s mind.
“Sevrin’s search never revealed his organic panacea,” Irina was continuing. “It did, however, introduce him to a circle of powerful friends outside conventional scientific circles who were also looking for a certain type of drug. Have you ever heard of xenoneurophene?”
“It’s an illegal psychotropic – thought to have adverse effect on individuals possessing extra sensory abilities,” Chekov recited from his memory banks.
“Do you know how it’s made?”
He shrugged. “No one does.”
“I do,” she replied with infinite sadness. “Sevrin did. We produce it here… in Dreamland.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Sevrin died, but our obligations to his friends did not….” Irina looked off into the stars. “And her hunger did not.”
“Chione,” he said without being exactly sure why he’d jumped to that conclusion.
Irina nodded.
Chekov shook his head slowly, trying to clear the host of unwelcome thoughts teaming there. “How is xenoneurophene made, Irina?”
“Some of the prime ingredients are produced within the bodies of Human telepaths and empaths,” she replied, giving an answer that was clearly also a non-answer.
“Noel DelMonde said… He seemed to indicate that you…”
“When we met, I was a low level empath,” she said. “So low, it wasn’t worth mentioning. I suppose I simply seemed…more intuitive at times than others. Repeated exposure to xenoneurophene has brought my abilities to…. a rather high level.”
“But the drug damages…”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “My intake is strictly limited and monitored to minimize damage and maximize my potential.”
“Then Noel and Miss Valley…”
“Are in danger, yes. However, she needs them, so…”
“Chione?” A host of questions were teaming in Chekov’s brain. He chose one of the darker ones. “What is she, Irina?”
“She’s not Human,” his lover began with curious reluctance. “She’s Izarian. The drug affects them differently… At least it has affected her differently. She joined Sevrin as a teenager – a runaway, a grifter living on the fringes of society… bitter and cynical about her childhood… something of a sociopath even then. Like you, she had no special mental ability – except for the strong shielding almost all Izarians are born with.”
The navigator remained silent, refusing to ask any question that might give Irina an excuse to stop telling the truth.
“There were several of us —special recruits – most were Human sensitives,” she continued, her eyes on the stars. “Chione was one of the non-Human control subjects… Dr. Sevrin’s friends conducted experiments on us – although they were never presented as such. We were asked to ingest substances, perform certain acts – always framed as rituals to purify and cleanse us of conventional morality.”
Chekov closed his eyes, not wanting to hear more, but knowing that these things must be spoken.
“We began to change. Several of us died. When we stole the Aurora,, we were trying to escape. Sevrin promised to save us…” A sparkling tear slid down her cheek unnoticed. “He was sick man, but I truly believed he wished to…”
She stopped and carefully wiped away the moisture from her eyes. Behind her, the dark moonflowers glowed blackly in the starlight.
“Afterwards, I thought it was over, finally over. Perhaps the dreams I had set aside...” The breath she drew in was uneven. “But Chione had changed too much. She had become dependant not on the drug, but on the energy produced by the experiments themselves.”
Things that DelMonde had said began to replay themselves in Chekov’s head.
“She made agreements with Sevrin’s friends to insure…” Irina broke off and shook her head. “She no longer has any conscience, any feeling for others. She has nothing but a growing need and an indomitable will to satisfy that need by any means. She must be constantly monitored and controlled.”
“By you?”
“Yes. I can keep her hunger at bay; divert her from the worst of her excesses… But she’s growing stronger every day… And I…”
“Irina…” Chekov moved to take her hand, then stopped. “How do you do it? Control her hunger?”
She looked at the decking. “The simplest way is to…”
“Share a lover with her,” he concluded. “The way you shared me…”
“I did not think she would have an affect on you,” Irina apologized. “Even when she gave you the drug that made you…”
“Into a brutal animal?” he concluded when her voice failed.
“It wasn’t the xenoneurophene that did that – not entirely – it was also her. Because you are a null, I assumed that you would bore her or she would simply be content with just the excitement of the sex… But each time, she… fed from you. And like your friend said, your mind – your spirit – defended itself by absorbing some of her evil… and some of mine,” she admitted. “Although this… negative psychic energy… took you over temporarily, you seem to be recovering…”
“This time,” he said grimly.
“Yes. Your friend DelMonde thinks that you won’t continue to be so lucky.”
“And that with more xenoneurophene and more contact I will become an energy absorbing creature like Chione… only worse.”
“Because you have no shielding, you may be less discriminating…” she said, trying to be gentle, “about what you absorb as well as how much you absorb.”
“I may kill.”
“Yes.”
Chekov looked deep into his lover’s expectant eyes. “You see a chance to control… no, to kill Chione using me,” he concluded.
"She must be neutralized," Irina said firmly, although Chekov noted that she could not bring herself to say the word ‘killed.’ "We will need some of the others as well. Your friend DelMonde is very powerful and the Antari, Miss Valley, has the ability to heal. If we could draw Chione in…”
“How would we do that?”
She looked pained to have to explain. “The simplest way would be…”
“Sex?” he concluded disbelievingly.
“Chione wants to feed from DelMonde. She needs me to draw out his full energy and channel it to her. If I insisted you be there as well…”
“You want me to have sex with you, Chione, and Noel DelMonde?” Chekov asked incredulously, then put a hand over his eyes. “Boizhe moi…”
“The energy you absorb from her weakens her. DelMonde has sufficient power to direct and control the absorption. I could employ the same injection Chione used on your other friend to make it possible for her to heal you afterwards…”
“Why don’t we shoot Chione with phaser instead?” The navigator suggested.
Irina crossed her arms. “And do you have a phaser, Pavel Andrevitch?”
“No,” he admitted sourly. “If I did might be too tempted to use it on myself.”
Irina sighed deeply. “I’ve given you much to consider. Perhaps too much. You need time to think.” She rose and kissed him on the top of the head. “Wait for me here.”
“I don’t think it matters how much time…”
“Please, Pasha.” She paused at the doorway. “I will return soon.”
“Irina,” he protested, rising to his feet as the door closed behind her. It didn’t open automatically to his touch. “Irina?” He searched in the twilight for the controls. Smooth metal met his hand on either side of the doorway. “Irina!” He pounded against the doorway, realizing too late that he’d been purposefully trapped. “Irina!!”
“Xenoneurophene is secreted in the perspiration of Human telepaths, and Human empaths secrete a sister-chemical which the Loon – Sevrinites call amyneurophene. The amyneurophene is necessary to stabilize the xenoneurophene into a combinable form, which the Loon – Sevrinites then use in their experiment on telepaths. Which haven’t been too successful. Other races don’t seem to get the amperage the Loon - Sevrinites want, and Human telepaths burn out pretty quickly. Admiral Glennon was one of the first telepathic subjects, and Ruis Calvario was one of the first empathic sources. The records I was able to scan indicate that this experimentation has been ongoing for at least ten years. Lieutenant Commander Paget concluded that the final objective is to create telepathic weapons.”
Daffy Gollub took a deep breath, closing her eyes, relaxing heavily against the inclined upper half of the Sickbay bed. Leonard McCoy checked the readings above the bed and frowned. He turned to the Science Officer and the Captain, who stood at the foot of the bed, listening intently to the chemist’s report.
“She’s still weak,” the doctor told them.
Spock, too, was frowning, but more from the repeated ‘Loon – Sevrinites’ that peppered Gollub’s information. “Miss Gollub,” the Vulcan said, “in how much danger are the telepaths and empaths in our party?”
Gollub opened one eye. “You already know the answer to that, Mr. Spock.”
“Clear and present,” Jim Kirk stated grimly.
“Jim, we’ve got to get them out of there,” McCoy rejoined. “If not even Ruthie can handle this stuff…”
“The information on Admiral Glennon is troubling,” Spock put in, “Starfleet records indicate that he is nominally the head of Sol-Jupiter’s collective Port Authorities, but there is much in his personal dossier which is classified solely for the Admiralty – and the highest echelons of the Admiralty at that. And Ruis Calvario is a convicted serial murderer, currently serving a rehabilitation sentence on Elba II.”
“And if they were involved with Dr. Sevrin and the beginnings of this movement…” Jim mused.
“All the more reason to get our people out of there, pronto,” McCoy broke in again.
“Yet the objectives of the mission have yet to be fully met,” Spock reminded.
McCoy stared at the First Officer, the shock evident on his face. “You’d risk their lives for this, Spock? Ruth’s life?”
“All the telepaths die, Mr. Spock,” Daffy’s voice was unnaturally soft. All eyes turned to her. She was pale, her gaze troubled but far away. “Ruth already almost died once. Caj – Del – Mr. DelMonde is no longer completely sane. Sulu’s latent empathy is growing stronger at an alarming rate. It may already be too late for them…” She fell silent, then, with a bone-rattling sigh, lost consciousness.
McCoy quickly rechecked her readings. “She isn’t completely recovered from the effects of that drug herself,” he said. “She’s not in serious danger anymore, but…” He shook his head.
“All the more reason we need to acquire as much information as we can,” Spock insisted. “We cannot allow these people to perfect their applications. They need to be stopped, Doctor.”
“Why not just beam our people up and blow up the whole damned base?” McCoy muttered.
“There are innocents on that base, Bones,” Jim replied. “Sincere people dedicated to a cause they believe in, no matter how misplaced or wrong-headed we think their devotion is. We need to find and neutralize the leaders, the chemists, and we need to find what the real power is behind these experiments. And,” he held up a forestalling hand, “we need proof of Admiral Glennon’s involvement. We need those records, intact.”
“The records may also contain a way to neutralize the effects of the xeno- and amyneurophene,” Spock concluded. “Which, from Miss Gollub’s report and your own observations, Doctor, will be necessary to save our officer’s lives and sanity.” He paused. “Without that information, beaming our party up may, in the long run, do them no good at all.”
You all right now, cher?
The words formed in Ruth’s mind as her flesh became real and solid around her. Her ribs hurt, her back and arms and legs stinging. She was coughing, and there was something skimming a healing warmth over her side, releasing the icy grip the xenoneurophene had on her lungs. “Del…?” she tried to rasp, succeeding only in coughing again.
Don’t try talkin’ now. An’ for fuck’s sake, babe, don’t try not'ing ‘pathic. The poison still in you, waitin’, so let it wait.
She was here, I felt her, I had to reach her…
Yeah, Daffy’s fine, but I said not'ing ‘pathic…
What do you mean, Daffy’s fine?!?
She alive, cher. She on the Enterprise. It too much like work to figure out how that happen, but it true.
Ruth felt him feeling her disbelief, and the Cajun frowned in her mind. Spock told me, does that make it more true? An’ don’t, he warned, try to contact him. Savin’ Daffy damn near killed you – would have if the black-hearted l’il bitch not need you for somet'ing bigger.
Something bigger?
Did I say not'ing ‘pathic? he roared within her. Or d’you wanna die? Coughing again, Ruth subsided. She felt hands coming to her shoulders, helping her to sit up. Diona, Phen, Roger, Madvig and a few other Sevrinites were crowded around her. Chione was right next to her, smiling.
“What happened, sister?” Phen asked.
Ruth’s head was too jumbled to formulate an answer. “I felt…” she began, “I felt…”
“You cried out ‘Daffy,’” Madvig added, as if that would help.
“Then you collapsed,” Stupid Roger put in, “and it was lucky that Chione thought to get you a protein shot.” He shrugged stupidly, but Ruth could’ve sworn she caught a gleam of derision and anger in his vacant brown eyes. “Must’ve been the stress of the rally and all, huh.”
“No, it wasn’t that,” Ruth tried again, coughing again. Del’s hand pressed gently to her side. Since when can you heal? she wondered distractedly.
Hush now. Not'ing ‘pathic, he returned.
“It wasn’t that,” Ruth repeated. “it’s just… I felt…”
“She ascended,” Del murmured. “We gave her to the stars, an’ she ascended.”
“And you could feel her looking down on us?” Madvig rejoined excitedly. “Like Adam?”
“Yes,” Ruth said, catching the Loonie drift. “It was – overwhelming.”
“You try to join her, babe,” Del said, kissing the side of her head. “I bring you back. Forgive me, but I not lose you so soon, non?”
Ruth sighed, then leaned against the engineer in very real weakness. “She’s in a much better place now,” she murmured.
“Is she smiling on us, sister?” Diona asked.
A cynical ‘not all of us’ formed in Ruth’s mind, but as she glanced around the cargo bay, looking for who it was intended for, she could see no sign of Pavel or of Irina.
Jeremy sat down tiredly a few feet away from Sulu and Sakura. He’d lost sight of Chekov and Irina, he’d left Ruth and NC to whatever machinations Chione was up to, Sulu and Saki weren’t speaking to him… and God only knows if Daffodil’s safe on the Enterprise. Congratulations, Paget, you managed to lead one hell of a fuck-up.
He pressed his fingers against his eye-sockets, hoping to stop the pressure behind his eyes. The xenoneurophene wasn’t supposed to have much of an effect on those not gifted, but there was a dull ache running all through him that he was sure wasn’t entirely attributable to lack of sleep, lack of caffeine, too much stress and too much Rigellian. Not to mention the hallucinatory sex. Yeah, let’s not mention that. Ever.
He sighed deeply, tears of sudden grief and frustration and despair filling his eyes, and felt someone sitting down next to him. A hand came to his shoulder.
“Stop your grieving, brother,” Roger’s voice said. “Spike felt Daffy’s presence. She’s home.”
Jeremy’s head jerked up. He heard Sakura’s echoed, “She’s what?”
Roger was staring intently at him. “Daffy’s home, Jeremy,” he said.
Paget attempted a quick recovery. “Yeah,” he murmured, letting a wistful smile come to his features. “I told Irina I was gonna send her to…”
“Look, I don’t know what you did, exactly, but I’m assuming she had all the information the Enterprise is gonna need to stop this insanity,” Roger interrupted in a fierce whisper.
Jeremy blinked, what he knew was stupidly. “What?”
“She’s in a better place, brother,” Roger returned, and his tone was again Loonie-dreamy.
Paget tried a friendly laugh. “Whatever you’re on, brother, I want some.”
“You know that talk you had with Fellin and Irina about zombies?” Roger continued with another switch of personality. “She’s wasn’t interested in it to be polite.”
Sulu and Sakura had gotten to their feet and were quickly crossing the space between them.
The sound of the boshzier began filtering through from the cargo bay, DelMonde’s amused voice accompanying it.
Well I don't know why I came here tonight,
I got the feelin’ that somet'ing ain't right,
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair,
An' I'm wonderin’ how I'll get down the stairs,
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle wit' you.
“The reanimation of dead tissue has long been a dream of chemists, you know,” Roger was saying. “Chemists, Cobra.”
Yes I'm stuck in the middle wit' you,
An' I'm wonderin’ what it is I should do,
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face,
Losin’ control, yeah, I'm all over the place,
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle wit' you.
“Are you listening to me? Do you reach? Are you chiming with what I’m saying?”
Well you started out with not'ing,
An' you proud that you're a self made man,
An' your friends, they all come crawlin,
Slap you on the back an' say,
Please.... Please.....Tryin’ to make some sense of it all,
But I can see it makes no sense at all,
Is it cool to go to sleep on the floor?
'Cause I don't t'ink that I can take anymore
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle wit' you.
“Roger,” Jeremy began carefully, “I thought you trusted us.”
“Well, trusting you is fucking this up big time,” the Sevrinite answered, his voice again a tight whisper. “It’s the last chance, you know that. And the Cajun’s already gone and it’s only the hope of getting a serum that works on Antaris that’s keeping Spike alive and Kam was half gone before you even got here…”
Well you started out with not'ing,
An' you' proud that you're a self made man,
An' your friends, they all come crawlin,
Slap you on the back and say,
Please.... Please.....
“What the hell does that mean? Sulu growled as he crouched next to Roger.
Roger looked at him. “Calvario.” The word was snapped off, but Roger’s eyes were worried and sympathetic. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I thought things were on the right track with the misdirection of Daffy’s alleged death, but… “ He shook his head. “Zombies, Cobra. Reanimation of dead tissue. Xenoneurophene and amyneurophene and telepathic weapons. Put it together, mission commander!”
The Sevrinite got up, flashing the One sign, and wandered away back towards the cargo bay. DelMonde’s voice was full of laughter.
Well I don't know why I came here tonight,
I got the feelin’ that somet'ing ain't right,
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair,
An' I'm wonderin’ how I'll get down the stairs,
Clowns to the left of me,
Jokers to the right, here I am,
Stuck in the middle wit' you,
Yes I'm stuck in the middle wit' you,
Stuck in the middle wit' you.
Sulu’s head was spinning. The words ‘Daffy’s alleged death’ were chasing themselves all around his awareness. “Daf’s not dead?” he managed as Roger walked away.
Jeremy was staring after the Sevrinite, his head obviously working a mile a minute. “I had to get her out of here,” the TerAfrican responded slowly. “They were gonna kill her.”
Sakura threw her arms around the security chief. “Thank the Buddha, thank the Buddha!” she breathed.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sulu rejoined, punching his friend on the shoulder.
“When did I have the chance?” Jeremy returned with a frown of annoyance.
“What was all that about zombies?” Sakura wanted to know.
Jeremy rapidly told them about his conversation with the Edenhead Goddess, which elicited a snort of “Your mother involved with voodoo? You’re gonna get a good whippin’ for that one,” from Sulu.
“Only if somebody tells her,” Paget responded with a pointed glare. Sulu chuckled. “But I don’t have the first idea what Stu – Roger meant.”
“Maybe it has something to do with the production of xenoneurophene?” Sakura suggested.
Sulu felt his head start to spin again. Zombies. Cal. ‘Kam was half gone before you even got here…’
Hideous memories began crowding into Sulu’s consciousness, and he fought to hold them at bay. I won’t look, he told them, I won’t see, I won’t know…
He cast about frantically for something else – anything else – to stave them off and was suddenly flooded with words.
“Chione, I have to talk to you.”
“Not here, Tongo.”
He caught the clear image of Rad and the blonde woman moving away from DelMonde’s musical seraglio.
“It’s about Kam. He’s empathic. Chione, I want it stopped.”
“What is it you want stopped?”
“Don’t use him,” the Catullan’s voice pleaded. “There are plenty of other subjects, you don’t need him.”
“Oh, but I do, Tongo. Calvario thought he was the perfect test case.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“And I was supposed to predict that you’d fall in love with him?” Chione’s voice dripped disdain.
There was a sense of hardening in Rad’s mind, a welling up of superiority and entitlement. “I want it stopped, Chione.”
“A little too late for that, Tongo.” The blonde’s tone was sing-song, but the emanations from her mind were black and demonic.
“No, it isn’t. I’ll give him some of the clean chemicals. I’ll keep him away from the Rigellian. It will wear off…”
Chione giggled. Rad frowned.
“It will wear off, won’t it, Chione?”
Sulu saw the blonde leaning over to Tongo, her answer a breathy whisper. “Not a chance in fucking hell, Rad.”
Tongo grabbed her arm hard. “What the hell do you mean, not a fucking chance?” he demanded.
“Let go of me,” Chione replied, her tone now as hard as the darkness within her. The Catullan’s grip tightened.
“I want answers, and I want them right now. What did you mean, it won’t wear off?”
“We’ve made some improvements,” she sneered. “Far beyond what you and your ‘experts’ could come up with. And my control won’t ‘wear off.’”
Rad stiffened. “When my father hears of this…”
Chione laughed. “Your father? Oh, really, Tongo, do you think he matters anymore? Do you think the Catullan government matters anymore? We’ve got more funding than we need – and we’re going to get more and more with Glennon’s influence. Let your father pull out. It won’t make any difference at all.”
Tongo pulled himself up. “Chione, I order you to…”
“Order me? You order me? Do you really think you’ve got any power here, little man? I can snuff you out easier than swatting a fly and don’t you forget it.” She giggled again, but the sound was frightening and chilling. “Now go be a good boy and have some fun with your little Federation plaything – while he lasts.”
The pressure became too much, and Sulu fell unconscious where he was.
“Come on, babe, wake up.”
Go away, Sulu thought. The last thing he wanted to do was come awake and remember.
A small room, lying on a small bed, lit by dozens of candles, the air thick and heavy with the smell of incense. His body cold, his muscles refusing to respond to his commands. The taste of honey and almonds in his mouth, his lips and tongue burning. Murmuring voices, muted drumbeats. Cal, dressed in white, words the helmsman – no, not then, the Clavist, the racer – couldn’t understand becoming louder, almost frenzied. Someone Else in control of his lungs, his heart, his muscles, his limbs…
“We’ve made some improvements, far beyond what you and your ‘experts’ could come up with. And my control won’t ‘wear off.’”
“Calvario thought he was the perfect test case.”
Abruptly, waking up was the only thing he wanted to do. He snapped his eyes open, pushing his body upright. He stared, seeing only Jeremy’s face before him.
“It won’t wear off,” he said. “Chione’s in control and it won’t wear off. Tongo didn’t know, he doesn’t understand…” A laugh escaped him. “He thinks he’s the Head Honcho here!”
“Slow down, Kam,” Paget said. “How do you…”
“I heard it, I heard them talking – about me.” He shuddered. “About Cal and me being – “ He nearly choked on the words. “A test case. A perfect test case.” The helmsman was shaking uncontrollably. “God, Jer, what did he do to me?”
Paget’s arms came around him, strong and warm and safe. “The sick-fuck’s on Elba, babe,” he murmured. “He can’t hurt you.”
“She said they’ve made improvements,” Sulu whispered. “She said Glennon’s getting them more funding.”
He felt Jeremy’s nod. “I gave Sakura the tricorder,” he said. “She’s gonna record as much of their information as she can. I’ve gotta find Chekov and we’ve gotta get a message to the Enterprise.” The tall man shivered. “We gotta get the fuck out of here.”
Sulu grabbed the security man’s arms. “It won’t wear off, Jer!” he hissed.
“But they’ve got an antidote,” Paget told him.
Sulu blinked. “How do you…?”
“Chione gave it to Ruth.”
“To Ruth? When?”
“Whatever happened to you a while ago happened at the same time Ruth was havin’ another bout of poisoning,” Jeremy said. “She was gone, babe. NC couldn’t help her. CPR wasn’t doin’ shit. Then Chione gave her an injections, and her lungs started workin’ again.”
“Why’d she do that?”
“Fuck if I know. But she wanted our keheil alive, that’s for damn sure.” Jeremy’s lips pursed. “Sulu, what did happen to you?”
Sulu took a deep breath, relaying the vision that had trapped him. “It was Roger who gave him the phaser,” the Asian concluded, “and told Jonehez that he knew what had to be done. And Jonehez kept thinking, ‘if only the mission hadn’t gone so wrong.’”
“This mission?” Paget asked dubiously.
“No, there was…” Sulu’s voice trailed off. “Roger’s a plant,” he said.
“Yeah, that was pretty damned obvious, wouldn’t you say?”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know, babe. Look, Tongo’s gonna be back. You keep him all worried about you and let me put it together, just like the man said.”
“Jer…” Sulu searched his friend’s deep brown eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t know what I’m becoming.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll get it sorted out,” Jeremy promised. He gave Sulu’s face a gentle caress, and the helmsman clearly heard the words he didn’t say.
Go To Part Nineteen
Return To Part Seventeen
Stuck In The Middle With You by Steeler's Wheels