Chapter 24

Spock noted that there was some different footing between the other two, but he was unable to determine its exact nature.

His conjecture did not square with the wound-tight tension he sensed in Sola. Unless his danger had interrupted something.

“I recommend we adjourn from the immediate vicinity,” he said. There were still stirrings in the underbrush, and the stun effect of the wrist-weapon was of uncertain duration.

“Agreed, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and looked somewhat dubiously at the trees, which offered no easy route of ingress for him at the moment. There were one or two climbs which might be attempted by an active Vulcan or a trained Zaran. Spock noted that although Kirk had come by the trees, he walked with a limp, which would make every step a hazard.

Sola was inspecting the terrain with the same eye. “Ground travel is impossible. Every predator within scent or hearing of our three separate battles will be converging on this area. And in moments the light will fail, and we cannot travel at all-certainly at least not until moonrise. We must reach a place of safety.”

“Where?” Kirk asked.

“Where we were,” she said, and Spock saw the Human look a little startled.

“There?” he said.

“The tree-serpent, on Zaran, at least, ordinarily does not return to a tree-cave it has lost. Nor do other predators usually approach it. Anything which has defeated a treedragon is presumed formidable.”

Spock took a look at his particular Human St. George, somewhat bedraggled now, and tried to visualize that Human’s historic encounter with a dragon which even other predators here would respect.

Kirk shook his head. “It wasn’t me, Mr. Spock. She was-formidable.”

Spock indicated the dead feline-ursine creature which had encountered the blue bamboo. “That also was not your handiwork?”

Kirk shrugged an admission. “Necessity is a mother, Mr. Spock. Let’s go.” He indicated a leg up for Spock to a likely climb to the trees. But Spock was able to jump to catch a handhold and in a moment he was up and leaning down to pull the Human up. Sola covered them from the ground, then also jumped to accept a lift from Spock.

For a moment as he lifted her their eyes met, and he was surprised to sense that there was no wall between them, no silencing of the carrier-hum of communication which had started to form between them. Was it possible, then, that there had been no bonding? But in that event, he must still fear for her life.

He put the question aside as they moved off. Sola led, picking footing which would be as safe as possible for Kirk with his injured ankle. Spock covered the rear, staying close enough for a quick lunge if the ankle gave way.

Kirk set his teeth and moved.

Before they reached their objective the sudden tropic night had fallen, becoming black as moonless Vulcan. Here the thick jungle even obscured the starlight.

Sola dropped back to guide Kirk step by step now. To the Human it must have been as black as the inside of a sealed chamber. The Zaran woman must have retained some slight vision. Spock managed.

Then Sola stopped. For the first time she risked using the coil of energy from the wrist-weapon as a light. It flared briefly and lit a woven bower of branches and a large cave in the huge trunk of a life-tree. Both were empty.

There was a roar on the ground. Spock looked down to see an unmistakable dragon, large, not to be compared to the dragons of Berengaria.

Its thick tail alone was the size of a Terran anaconda, perhaps twenty-five feet long. Its neck was almost equally long. It could have reached them in the trees.

Spock braced for attack, but Sola sent another flare of the wrist weapon in its direction, not touching it. But it had evidently learned its lesson and recoiled, hissing disconsolately. The hissing was perhaps digestive gas, and Spock saw suddenly the crackle from the dragon’s mouth of an electrical charge, perhaps like the electrical eels of Earth, or the great eel-birds of Regulus.

The gas caught fire and shot up toward them like a flamethrower. Spock made a move to cover the other two, but Sola snapped out with the wrist-coil again as she dodged the flame.

The flame stopped. Spock turned in the light of small burning branches to see the fire-dragon shake its great head and turn away. Spock moved out and snapped off the dry, burning branches of the bower, brought them back to the mouth of the cave, and found a ledge of living wood damp with sap, which would not soon burn. On it he laid the burning branches out to form a small campfire.

“It would appear our position has already been advertised sufficiently,” he said. “I see no harm in a fire, and it may offer some protection.”

There was a certain primitive satisfaction in sharing a fire after the dangers met and shared. And he saw an appreciation of that in the eyes of the other two as he tamed and brought the fire.

But this was not a fire Spock could share. It was clear enough to him that Sola had made her choice and that Kirk had accepted it. The chance of an interruption by danger could not be an argument. And to impose his presence might well cost her life. Spock sensed the unresolved tension mounting toward physiological overload.

He reached in and picked up the useless phaser Kirk had brought back. “If you will excuse me,” Spock said, “I will see to the phaser and stand watch.”

He turned without allowing a reply and moved rather stiffly to the far corner of the fire-dragon’s bower, taking a torch with him and propping it as a solitary fire and light. He started to look at the phaser, focusing all his concentration on that, ignoring low voices in the tree-cave.

After a few moments he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t look, but he knew who it was.

“You wouldn’t be ‘going off into the night,’ Mr. Spock?”

Spock looked up as Kirk sat down beside him. “I am attempting to repair a phaser and to stand watch. I expect to be some time.”

“Spock,” Kirk said, “she came after me because I didn’t stand a snowball’s chance. She counted on you to survive.”

Spock shrugged. “That was the only logical choice,” he said, “as I attempted to convey to her. However, the reason of choice does not alter the choice.” He looked at Kirk. “Not for her, not for you. Nor would I change it. Go to her now.”

Kirk shook his head.

“Jim,” Spock said, “I once told you that the woman you loved, Edith Keeler, had to die-for the fate of the galaxy. I saw no other solution, but it was you who had to live with the decision, and the loss. I will not see you lose again.”

Kirk was silent for a long moment. “You know, then. Or you’ve guessed. At least-I guessed when she found me, that it was her life, too. That’s why-“

“You need not explain.”

“I’ll decide what I need, damn it! And right now I need you to come back in that cave and fight for her. I may pin your elegant Vulcan ears back, later, if I’m up to it. But I won’t be chosen because I’m the one to be rescued, or because the Totality has pulled some string.”

“You were chosen, from the beginning,” Spock said.

Kirk shrugged. “She didn’t know you. Spock, she’s in danger, and if I thought I was the only way to save her, which I did, I would. But I don’t think it would work now. She sensed-even then-that you were in trouble.”

“It proves nothing.”

“Logic, Spock. If we dance to the tune the Totality called, if I bond with her-or even if you did-they would control her. Spock, is there some possible salvation in the fact that we three-are three?”

Spock looked at him carefully. “Unknown, Captain. Insufficient data.”

Kirk reached out and handed Spock the communicator. “I suppose it’s asking too much that you get this back in working order?”

Spock inspected it, rising to the bait. “Considering that we lack even stone knives and bear claws, this time, possibly.”

Kirk grinned. “I’m afraid I’m always asking too much of you, Mr. Spock. Now come back into the cave.”

Spock rose without a word and obeyed.