Life is good for Jamie. She has been promoted to Starfleet cadet and been granted official permission to stay aboard the Enterprise. But no sooner has the ink dried on the orders than a specter from Jim Kirk’s past rises to haunt both him and Jamie. Their world is turned upside down when Jamie is grounded and sent to Centaurus. Who are these important busybody strangers, anyway? And why do they insist Jamie’s short stay aboard the Enterprise is about to come to a permanent end?
Chapter 1
Cadet’s Log, Stardate 2268.24
I
can’t believe it. This is the most marvelous, exciting, crazy day of my whole
entire life! Admiral Komack made me a cadet. A REAL cadet, which is nothing
like the pretend cadet I’ve been for the last year and a half. From now on,
when I record this log, it will really mean something. Okay, I’m going to pinch
myself, just to make sure I’m not dreaming—
“Ouch!”
“What are you
doing?” Jamie Kirk’s new friend Essak brushed up against her. He was holding a
glass of bubbly, bright-purple liquid. Grape delight was only one of the drinks
flowing tonight at a party to honor the ten brave children who had been
kidnapped the week before.
“I’m pinching
myself to make sure I’m not dreaming,” Jamie replied.
Essak downed
his drink, tossed the cup into a waster receptacle, and snatched the tricorder
out of her hands. “Is this that recording device you whispered into all week
when we were trapped with those terrorists on that ol’ rust bucket?”
“Yes, it is.”
Jamie grabbed the tri-corder’s long strap and gave it a jerk. “It’s my log, and
it’s personal.”
Essak didn’t
let go. He grinned and joined in an impromptu game of tug-of-war.
“This is an
expensive piece of Starfleet property,” Jamie warned. “Hand it over before it
breaks.” She gave the strap a mighty yank. Essak held firm.
Then . . . snap!
The strap broke, sending Jamie reeling backward, smack into a group of
important-looking grownups. Worse, they were important-looking Vulcan
grownups.
The very
worst kind of grown-ups to crash into.
Jamie flailed
her arms to catch her balance, but it was too late. She dropped to the floor
with a loud thump. The tri-corder bounced once and slid to a stop. The grownups’
drinks splashed out of their glasses and spilled onto the blond, gold, and
black heap lying on the floor.
Jamie gasped
and looked up . . . straight into the dark, amused eyes of First Officer Spock.
A bright-red spot stained the middle of his uniform.
She groaned
inwardly. His Class As, of course. It’s not bad enough that I spilled his
drink on his uniform tunic, but I had to ruin his dress uniform.
Jamie didn’t
move. She couldn’t. She sat frozen on the floor of the Great Hall, surrounded
by half a dozen disapproving Vulcan frowns. One of those frowns belonged to Mr.
Spock’s father, Ambassador Sarek.
Jamie’s
marvelous, exciting day had just taken a turn for the worse.
Ambassador
Sarek didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Jamie didn’t need a Vulcan mind
meld to know what he was thinking. She saw it in his dark, disapproving eyes. A
Vulcan girl would never do anything so illogical as argue over a recording
device.
Jamie’s
cheeks burned in shame. She closed her eyes and wished herself back on the
ship. Any ship. Even the terrorists’ rust bucket, the Rim Pride.
Just then,
strong hands grasped her around the waist, and Jamie felt herself being lifted.
Her eyes flew open. Mr. Spock steadied her on her feet then raised one eyebrow,
a look Jamie knew well. The Enterprise’s first officer was amused.
Jamie doubly
wished herself on the far side of the alpha quadrant. She glanced around for
Essak. He had melted into the crowd. Traitor!
She did not
want to amuse Mr. Spock. She wanted him to think she had learned something during
his year and a half of tutoring her in logic, mathematics, and science.
Maybe an
apology would help.
“I’m sorry,
Mr. Spock.” Jamie barely mouthed the words. The ship’s first officer had
exceptional hearing. His eyesight was pretty good too. No doubt he’d seen—and
heard—Essak and Jamie fighting over the tricorder. “I lost my temper with
Essak.”
The corners
of Mr. Spock’s mouth looked like they might go up. Maybe a millimeter, anyway.
“Indeed.”
Jamie hung
her head. “I ruined your class As.”
“They are
easily cleaned.”
Jamie’s
racing heart slowed down, and the flush in her cheeks drained away. Those four
words from Mr. Spock were better than anybody else saying, “It’s okay, Jamie.
No hard feelings.”
Of course,
Mr. Spock would never say “no hard feelings,” but Jamie felt one hundred
percent better.
Mr. Spock’s
companions had returned to their conversation, politely ignoring the small
human girl and her Vulcan rescuer. All except for Miss Amanda, Mr. Spock’s
mother. She seemed extraordinarily pleased that her son had helped Jamie up.
Her smile looked wider than the Cheshire Cat’s in Alice in Wonderland.
She stood behind Mr. Spock and winked at Jamie, as if to say, “I’m glad he
cares.”
Mr. Spock
bent over, retrieved the small, black tricorder with its now-broken strap, and
held it out. “It might be best if you told no one about the treatment this
device has received. If it’s broken, it is unlikely you will be issued another
one.”
“Yes, sir,”
Jamie whispered.
Mr. Spock was
right about that. Lt. Tanzer had given her the tricorder a few months ago, and
Daddy had not been pleased. He was probably remembering other Starfleet
equipment I’ve lost or wrecked, Jamie mused. Like communicators.
She had
ruined or lost two so far. That was an Enterprise secret. The big brass
at Starfleet Command would not like to know that.
Jamie’s brow
furrowed. Except, the big brass knew about her communicator, the one that had
shown the Enterprise how to find the terrorists. Daddy hadn’t yelled at
her for letting Shaull, her Vulcan friend, take it apart.
So, maybe
wrecking that communicator didn’t count.
Jamie snapped
open the tricorder’s lid and turned the knobs. The small screen danced with
symbols and graphs. She heaved a sigh of relief and grinned up at Mr. Spock.
“It still works.”
But he was
gone.
Jamie looked
around for the boy who had caused all this trouble in the first place. No, she
corrected silently, Mr. Spock would say I got myself into it, and he would
be right. Oh, slime devils! Why can’t I go back to the ship? She was so
tired of all the celebrating.
Her gaze landed on Essak, who hovered near the
dessert table. He was stuffing himself on another piece of cake. That boy sure
liked to eat.
Jamie hurried
over and gave him an evil glare. “Thanks a whole bunch, Essak. I made a mess of
Mr. Spock’s dress uniform, and the rest of the Vulcans gave me their cool,
disapproving Vulcan stares.”
“Hey, I’m
sorry. I didn’t realize Starfleet equipment couldn’t stand up to a little
tug-of-war.” Essak laughed. “And nobody should be giving you any
disapproving stares tonight. After all, you’re a hero. Heroes always get approving
looks.”
Jamie rolled
her eyes.
“It’s true,”
Essak said, washing down his cake with more grape delight. “Where would the
rest of us be if you hadn’t come along on our Red Carpet Tour?”
Essak began
counting off on his fingers. “You didn’t beam away when we were snatched by
those terrorists. You gave Shaull your communicator. You let him tear it apart
and turn it into a transmitter so the Enterprise could find us. You
thought up the idea to disrupt the Rim Pride’s deflector shields.” He
took a deep breath. “Shall I go on?”
Jamie let out
an impatient breath. “No.” She would rather not be a hero, especially if it
reminded her of those three terrifying days when she and nine other kids were
guests of the terrorist Galactic Liberation Society and their mercenary pals
aboard the Rim Pride.
No, she would
trade being a hero for just staying aboard the Enterprise.
Only one good
thing had come of that horrible experience. She peeked around Essak and saw the
tall, dignified Admiral Komack making his way through the crowd of well-wishers
at the gala event. He shook hands with one of the parents and smiled.
Thanks for
making me a real cadet, Admiral Komack, Jamie said silently. She’d said “thank you” out loud so
many times already that she didn’t dare say it aloud again. Or hug him again.
Even though her arms ached to give him just one more hug.
Admiral
Komack was the best admiral in the whole, entire Starfleet!
Jamie yawned,
and Essak nudged her. “Don’t look bored at a party in our honor.”
“I’m not
bored. I’m tired. I want to go home.” Home to the Enterprise.
“Nobody’s
going to let any of us leave,” Essak said. “Heroes have to stand around and
listen to grown-ups gush about them. Look over there. See the Federation’s
other hero? He looks embarrassed, for a Vulcan.”
Indeed,
Shaull was standing patiently while three older men and an older Vulcan woman
surrounded him, asking questions and admiring his Clasp of Surak medal, which
he’d received for his part in jury-rigging the communicator.
Jamie glanced
down at her own shiny pin, which hung just above her uniform insignia. It’s pretty, but I’d trade it right now for
a soft bed and a— A yawn cut off her thoughts.
“It won’t be
long before we can skip out of here.” Captain Kirk put an arm around Jamie’s
shoulder and squeezed. “Did you and Mr. Spock recover from your spill?”
Of course
he saw what happened, Jamie
thought in horror. Captains have to know everything that’s going on with
their crew. Even what’s going on with little cadets.
“Sorry,
Captain,” she said, “but the tricorder’s fine.”
“I’m sure it
is. I was thinking of Mr. Spock.”
“He’s fine
too,” Jamie said quickly. At least she hoped he was.
Kirk turned
to Essak, who yawned just then. “You look like you’ve had enough partying, as
well.”
“Yes, sir, I
have,” Essak agreed. “Night, Jamie.” He waved and ran off.
Jamie stifled
another yawn. “I’m so tired. I feel all swirly inside.”
“It’s been a
long week. Let’s see if we can sneak out of here and beam up to the ship.”
“I wish I
could have gone to the Six Flags park today, instead of having to sit through
that long, long, long ceremony,” Jamie said wistfully.
Kirk clasped
her hand and headed toward the door. “And miss out on becoming an official
cadet? Really?”
“Well, when
you put it that way,” Jamie said with a giggle, “I guess I—”
“Jim!”
Kirk turned,
pulling Jamie around with him. “Admiral.”
Admiral Komack strode across the huge hall, looking grim. When he reached Jamie and her father, he frowned. “Something’s come up.”
|
|
Chapter 2
Cadet’s Log, Stardate 2268.24
It always makes me nervous when Admiral
Komack talks to my dad—oops, I mean Captain Kirk. What kind of mission is the
admiral cooking up for the Enterprise
crew now?
“What do you
need, sir?” Kirk asked, straightening up.
Jamie was
pretty sure her father was not happy about hearing the words “something’s come
up.”
“May I speak
with you alone?”
Jamie
groaned.
“I’m sorry,
Cadet Kirk,” Komack said with a smile and a wink. “It won’t take long. I know
you must be exhausted.”
“Can’t it
wait until after I take Jamie back to the ship?” Kirk asked.
Komack shook
his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Kirk’s gaze
swept the room until he saw Dr. McCoy. “Bones!” he called and waved him over.
McCoy ambled
up, drink in hand. His craggy face was lined with weariness. It had been a long
week for the entire Enterprise crew.
“What’s up, Jim? Oh, hello, Admiral.”
“Doctor
McCoy,” Komack acknowledged with a nod.
“Would you
take Jamie back to the ship for me?” Kirk asked. “The admiral and I need to
talk.”
“No, Daddy.”
Jamie gripped his hand tighter. “I want you to take me.”
Kirk knelt
and pulled Jamie into a warm hug. “Go along with McCoy, Jamie. I promise I
won’t be long.”
“That’s what
you always say,” Jamie grumbled. Then she remembered that Admiral Komack was
standing there, watching her.
Oops! Does
a Starfleet cadet argue with the captain, even if he’s your dad? Well, maybe
not in front of an admiral.
“As soon as I
find out what the admiral wants,” Kirk promised, “I’ll beam up and tuck you
into bed.”
I’ll
already be asleep, Jamie
thought. But she let go of her father’s hand and slumped against McCoy.
“Aye-aye, Captain Daddy, sir,” she said, which
|
6.
The Long Way Home |
The doctor
swung Jamie up in his arms. “I’ll carry you back to the ship, sleepy cadet.
Then we’ll have a cup of cocoa and a story about the Old South. Would you like
that?”
Jamie stifled
another yawn. It wouldn’t do to yawn in front of Admiral Komack. That would be
as bad as yawning in front of Mr. Spock. But she perked up a little. Dr.
McCoy’s stories of the Old American South were usually silly, but they were
good entertainment. And a cup of hot chocolate sounded just right. “Sure,
Doctor. I’d like that.”
“See you in a
bit.” Kirk winked. “Save some cocoa for me.”
McCoy
snorted. “No promises, Jim.”
Kirk watched
McCoy and Jamie head off toward the transporters. An involuntary shudder went
through him when he realized how close he had come this week to losing his
little girl and the rest of the delegates’ children.
And those
last few minutes, when a grudge-crazed Sean Finnegan had threatened to keep
Jamie with him? May he never be forced to repeat that experience!
He turned to
the admiral. “It’s been a whirlwind today, but I wanted to make sure I thanked
you for that gift you gave Jamie.”
Komack’s
eyebrows rose.
“You gave her
permission to stay aboard my ship,” Kirk reminded him. “You have a friend for
life.” He smiled wearily. Jamie wasn’t the only tired crewmember. “The last
year and a half have been . . . well . . . tense at times.”
He rubbed his
forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “I’ve violated about a dozen
regulations by keeping Jamie, a civilian, aboard a Starfleet vessel. But every
time I make arrangements for boarding school, I find that I just can’t go
through with it.” He sighed. “Frankly, I don’t want to send Jamie away. I want
her with me.”
The admiral
gripped Kirk’s arm. “I have three daughters, Jim.” He paused, as if trying to
think of a way to share his thoughts. “Jamie’s presence aboard the Enterprise is no secret at HQ, not
anymore. A few diehards in the admiralty occasionally put pressure on me to do
something about it, but I hold them off. I demand proof that the situation is a
detriment and that the child interferes with the efficiency and operation of
the ship. Nobody ever comes forward with such proof.”
Komack
shrugged. “Admiral Nogura has been supportive, or at least as supportive as
Nogura ever gets.” He grinned. “It helps to have the head of Starfleet, if not
totally sold on the idea, at least open to it. Jamie’s a great kid. And the Enterprise
always meets or exceeds all standards, especially with the crew’s morale. The Enterprise
is our flagship. She’s seen more action and come home with more worlds explored,
and the fewest casualties, than any ship of the fleet. Your record speaks for
itself.”
Kirk felt a tremendous load slip from his mental shoulders. At least
most of it. He knew a lot of their “action” concerning Jamie had remained an Enterprise secret. And
a good thing too.
“So,
admiral,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s the new mission, and when does
the Enterprise leave?”
“It doesn’t
involve the Enterprise, Jim. It’s personal.” He walked toward a door
along the corridor. “I have guests who want to speak with you.”
Kirk’s
eyebrows shot up. “Oh? About what?”
“They
wouldn’t say. They requested your immediate presence.”
Kirk frowned
his concern as the admiral opened the door and ushered him inside the office.
What specter from the past had risen to haunt him?
His encounter
with Sean Finnegan, the GLO’s mercenary captain, had opened a number of old
wounds. Chasing terrorists and rescuing innocent hostages had given the captain
too many sleepless nights, especially when his own daughter had been one of the
innocents.
However, there
were always pompous government officials eager to roast Captain Kirk for his
decisions. Who was it now? He steeled himself for the encounter.
Admiral
Komack closed the door behind them. “Good evening, sir, ma’am. Captain Kirk has
agreed to meet with you, as you requested.”
An older,
distinguished-looking man stood up from the overstuffed chair near the desk.
His dark eyes bored into the two Starfleet officers. A slender, elegant woman
with bright blue eyes sat in another chair.
“Thank you,
Admiral,” the man said. “Please remain and hear what I have to say.”
“As you wish,
sir.”
Kirk’s mind
whirled. He heard deference in the admiral’s voice, and one did not intimidate
a Starfleet admiral easily. These were important people. What could they
possibly want with a lowly starship captain?
Kirk studied
the couple. The man’s bearing shouted “wealth and position,” and the woman
oozed with the same aura. Rich industrialists? Wealthy political players?
Kirk did not
like the looks of this situation at all.
The man fixed
an unfriendly scowl on the captain and clasped his hands behind his back.
“James Kirk, I vowed never to have any contact with you, and yet, here I am.”
Disdain oozed from his words.
Kirk stood
speechless. He caught Komack’s startled look.
“As much as I
would prefer to leave this entire matter in a mediator’s hands, my wife
persuaded me that I should speak with you personally.”
“Please,
Robert,” the woman pleaded. “Get on with it so we can leave.”
“Get on with
what?” Kirk snapped.
“Jim,” Komack
warned. “Hear them out.”
“I would
appreciate an introduction, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Arrogant as
always,” the woman murmured, shaking her head.
“Anna,
please,” Robert warned. He turned back to Kirk. “I am the high commissioner
from the Earth Colonies Confederation and a delegate to the Babel Conference
the past couple of weeks. A tragic affair.”
“A tragic
affair with a miraculous outcome,” Komack reminded him. “And all of the credit
goes to the captain and crew of the Enterprise.”
“I realize
that.” The man scowled, as if he did not want to be beholden to Kirk for
anything. He cleared his throat. “My name is Robert Winter of Centaurus, and
this is my wife, Anna.”
The name
slammed into Kirk’s memory, nearly taking his breath away. It took all his
command training not to react. “Robert
and Anna Winter?”
“That is
correct, Captain.” He took his wife’s hand and helped her to her feet. “Our
granddaughter is attending this reception. You will bring her to us at once.”
Chapter 3
“Nothing
I request is out of the question,” Robert said, clearly used to being obeyed.
“Contact your ship and have her beamed down.”
Kirk opened
his mouth to give the Winters a piece of his mind, but Komack interrupted.
“Jim—”
“No, sir.”
Kirk was beyond courtesy. Twelve years fell away as if they were yesterday. His
stomach churned remembering the heartbreak of his young wife, Ruth, and his own
fury at her family’s arrogant claims that they knew what was best for their
daughter. And the “best” did not include a lowly Starfleet lieutenant by the
name of James T. Kirk. He remembered the shouts, the threats, and the tears.
He kept his
voice low, but his anger was red-hot. “How dare
you show up and make demands. I have not seen or heard from you since the day
Ruth announced she was going to marry me. Just like that”—he snapped his
fingers in Robert’s face—“you dismissed her from your life.
“Do you know
how much you hurt Ruth with your stubborn refusal to accept the fact that we
were in love? You neither acknowledged our marriage or the announcement of
Jamie’s birth, nor did you come to see your new granddaughter. We never heard
from you when Ruth lay dying on Earth six months later. You never even came to
her memorial. You cut us off as neatly as if we never existed.”
Kirk clenched
his fists. “And you have the audacity to show up now—years later—and
expect to reenter our lives as if nothing ever happened?”
“Yes, James,
we do,” Robert said, clearly unmoved by Kirk’s words. “And we expect you to
cooperate.”
When hell
freezes over, Kirk
shouted mentally. “Why now?”
“Because she
is our granddaughter,” Anna put in quietly. “And we—”
“Jamie was
your granddaughter ten years ago too,” Kirk snapped.
Anna cringed,
bit her lip, and looked at her husband.
“Do not
interrupt my wife,” Robert ordered. “I didn’t appreciate your cocky attitude
back then, and I don’t like it now.”
“Please,
sir,” the admiral cut in. “Let your wife continue.” He turned to Kirk. “And
you, Captain, hear her out.”
Anna wiped
her eyes. “When I learned a few days ago that our granddaughter had been one of
the hostages, I nearly fainted, thinking about what she must have gone through.
Poor child! Hungry, frightened out of her wits, helpless, filthy. The thought
made me weep in terror.”
“We intend to
see that she is kept safe and allowed to live a normal life, free from danger
and fear,” Robert added.
“Mr. and Mrs.
Winter,” Komack interjected, “Jamie distinguished herself with honor in this
affair. And quite frankly, the only time I’ve seen her afraid of anything is
when she had to come up front and accept her award.” He smiled, but his attempt
to lighten the situation failed.
“I don’t
believe that for an instant,” Robert growled. “Any child would be terrified.
And no child should have to endure such danger and neglect on a daily basis. It
is tantamount to child abuse.”
Kirk
bristled. “Jamie does not endure danger or neglect. And since you haven’t
noticed her existence for ten years, I cannot imagine why you are showing
concern now.”
“Because,
young man,” Robert said, “when we saw the situation, we decided it was high
time to intervene. Obviously, she is not safely back on Earth with her
grandmother Kirk. Instead, you have allowed that innocent child to become part
of what amounts to willful endangerment.”
Kirk nearly
burst out laughing. “Jamie is perfectly safe aboard my ship. Do you think I
would do anything to put my daughter in danger?”
Robert waved
Kirk’s words away. “Look at the past week. Held hostage on a ship bound for who
knows where! I shudder to think what else she’s gone through aboard your
vessel.”
“Jamie
deserves a quiet life and the best we have to offer,” Anna put in. “We can give
her anything she wants—the finest schools, a place in polite society. She can
pursue any dream she chooses. Money is not a barrier.”
“What can you
offer her?” Robert scoffed. “A starship is no home. The best you can do is
sacrifice your meager salary to send her to boarding school. She has no other living
relatives. Your parents are dead, and most of your family perished on Deneva.
We offer a real home instead of a dangerous moving target. I have already made the
arrangements to take her with us when we return to Centaurus.”
“You’ve
what?” It had to be a bluff—a bad one—meant to unnerve him.
Well, it
won’t work, he thought
in disgust. “Jamie’s not going anywhere with you, so don’t waste your time
trying to convince me otherwise. You have no claim on any kind of relationship
with her.”
“And you have
a better claim?” Robert said. “If it hadn’t been for your mother’s untimely
death, where would the child be now? Back on a dirty Iowa farm. As if you ever had time for her,
Captain.”
The truth of
Robert’s statement hit Kirk hard. It was true. But now that Jamie had been on
his ship for almost two years, he couldn’t imagine her being anyplace else.
Robert
squeezed his wife’s hand and turned to Komack. “Making the child a cadet
probably pleased her, Admiral, but it has no merit. We’ve come to take Jamie
home with us.”
“Over my dead
body,” Kirk muttered.
“Oh, it will
not come to that,” Robert said. “I filed the proper papers with the courts to
have temporary custody of Jamie until the hearing.”
Hearing?
Court? Kirk’s mouth fell open. They sure worked fast. Could they do that? Take
a child away from her father?
Suddenly, he
wasn’t sure. The only experience he’d had with the courts was a military court
martial in which, thank God, he’d been exonerated. Who knew what went on in
civilian court, and family court at that?
“You’re
bluffing,” he snapped.
“I assure you
we are sincere,” Robert replied. “Judge Morris of the Babel circuit court has
already granted the temporary removal of Jamie into our custody. The court also
appointed a guardian-ad-litem, whose only concern will be for the welfare of
the child.”
Kirk’s
stomach felt like ice. “What about
Jamie? Has she no say in this?”
Robert’s
eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “The child? Of course not. We know
what is best for our granddaughter, and it is not gallivanting around the
quadrant on the deck of a starship.”
He focused a
grim look on Kirk. “She could have died
out there, James. That is reckless endangerment, and you know it. Judge Morris
has been kept appraised of the whole terrorist situation the past couple of
weeks.”
Kirk was
speechless with horror. This is a bad
dream! And it doesn’t help that they found a judge here on Babel, whose
mind is still fresh with this terrorist thing.
Robert nodded
to Anna. She rose and followed her husband to the door.
“Prepare to
beam us aboard as soon as the guardian-ad-litem arrives on Babel,” Robert said
in parting. “Until then, your ship will remain in orbit.” He turned to Komack.
“I expect that order to stand, Admiral.”
“Of
course, sir,” Komack said tightly. His deep frowned told Kirk that Starfleet
admirals did not appreciate being ordered around like ensigns.
Kirk’s hands
were now doubly tied. While he might be willing to ignore an order from a high-ranking
mucky muck on the Federation Council, he would not disobey Admiral Komack. He
was stuck on Babel and at the mercy of his vengeful father-in-law.
And that’s
all this is, he
decided. Pure, spiteful revenge.
“You don’t
care anything about Jamie,” Kirk said, voicing his thoughts. “You want to
punish me for taking Ruth away from you. Well, let me tell you something. You’ll
never take Jamie off my ship, you arrogant—”
“Enough!”
Robert snapped. “You’ve been out in space too long, Captain, and you are behind
the times. We have family rights—grandparent rights—and we intend to claim
those rights. It would be wise not to oppose us.”
With that, he
ushered his wife from the room, slamming the old-fashioned door behind him.
Kirk slumped
into an empty chair and let out a long, shuddering breath.
Komack
whistled. “I had no idea Robert Winter was your father-in-law. It must be the
best-kept secret in the quadrant. Do you know who he is?”
Kirk
shrugged. “No. All highbrow paper-pushers look and act alike to me. I only know
that he gave Ruth and me nothing but grief. He used his connections to keep us
apart. They had plans for Ruth to marry some high-class political player.”
He smiled
wearily. “Obviously, Ruth was not in agreement. I knew her father was high up,
but I never kept up with his career. I figured it was best to ignore him.
Otherwise, I might be tempted to kill him one day.”
It was not a
joke, and the admiral did not laugh.
“He is one of
the most powerful men in the Core,” Komack said. “He’s personal friends with
President Shyler, as well as with most of the Council. He has served three
terms on the Council, and rumor has it that he’s running for re-election next
term. A rich, powerful, and ambitious man. I wouldn’t put it past him to go for
the presidency one day. To put it bluntly, Jim, what Robert Winter wants, politically
or personally, he gets.”
“Surely no
court would take a child away from her father,” Kirk said.
“It sounds
like Judge Morris already has, at least for the time being. I’m not familiar
with Family Law, but the fact that you fly around in a starship could be a
problem. The Winters are Jamie’s grandparents. That’s a pretty close
relationship. Jamie lived with your mother for seven or eight years before
Winona died. Why shouldn’t the other grandparents have that same opportunity?
After all, she’s been with you for less than two years.”
“Admiral!”
Komack held
up a hand. “I’m just saying what the mediators will probably argue. It’s a
tough call. If the Winters can prove there is physical or emotional danger for
Jamie aboard the Enterprise, their temporary custody could turn into
something more permanent.”
“What if I
take a ground assignment?”
“You’re one
of my best officers, Jim. I’d hate to see you immured on some star base or
space station out in the middle of nowhere. You’d waste away on a place like
K-7.”
He shook his
head. “No, Captain. You’ve just spent the last two years of your life
proving—though unintentionally—that having a family aboard a starship can work,
given the right conditions. You know the Federation is going forward with their
plans for a galaxy-class starship. Think of it! Fifty years from now, Starfleet
personnel and their families will call these huge ships home. Maybe as many as
a thousand aboard one starship.”
“That doesn’t
help me now, sir.”
“No, it
doesn’t.” Komack admitted. “You can’t imagine how sorry I am. I’ll back you up
the best I can, and Nogura will too when he hears about it.”
“Thank you.”
Komack
reached out and gripped Kirk on the shoulder. “I’ll be honest with you, Jim.
You’ve got yourself a real fight coming up. Quite possibly the most difficult
test of your entire career. But don’t back down. I didn’t make your little girl
a cadet for the fun of it. I meant it. She’s our next generation.”
“And the
ground assignment?”
“If it comes to that, I’ll find you a ground assignment, but I don’t think it would change things. The Winters don’t strike me as the backing-down type. For now, I suggest you go back to your ship and carry on business as usual. Oh, and it wouldn’t hurt to hire yourself a good lawyer.”
Chapter 4
The message on her computer screen was short and to the point.
Report to the bridge as soon as possible.
“The bridge? Why?” Jamie glanced at the
chronometer. It read 1043. She had indeed been tired and slept late. Quickly,
she dressed and straightened her quarters. Then she snatched up K-7 her
tribble, plopped him (or her or it) on the bed, stuffed her dirty clothes down
the recycler, and hurried out the door. An invitation to the bridge was not to
be taken lightly.
As the
turbolift raced upward, Jamie brushed every piece of lint from her gold uniform
tunic. Then she straightened her small pin and stuffed the wrinkled fabric of
one legging into her boot. After all, a Starfleet cadet did not burst onto the
bridge of a starship looking like an escapee from a Tyrinian refugee camp. No,
sir! A real cadet must look her best.
When the
doors to the bridge whooshed open, Jamie took a deep breath and walked
confidently onto the quarterdeck.
“Congratulations,
Cadet,” Lt. Sulu called from his helm.
Was it
Jamie’s imagination, or did he say “cadet” with just a touch more respect than
before?
“Thank you,
Lieutenant Sulu,” she replied with a serious nod. Then a grin sneaked out, and
Sulu chuckled.
“How does it
feel to be an official member of the crew?” Lt. Uhura asked from her station.
Jamie hurried
across the quarterdeck and climbed into the chair beside the beautiful
communications officer. “Better than anything in the whole quadrant.” She said
it with such feeling that Uhura laughed and pulled her into a warm hug.
“You did good,
honey.” Uhura’s praise warmed Jamie’s heart. “You made us all proud. I wonder
where those kids would be right now if you hadn’t gone along for the ride.” She
shook her head. “I still can’t believe how you and the Vulcan boy rigged your
communicator so the Enterprise could find you.”
“Shaull’s the
smart one,” Jamie said. “I didn’t do anything. I just let him use my
communicator. He did the rest. And I knew you would pick it up. You’re the best
communications officer in Starfleet.”
Uhura smiled.
“Of course, you didn’t do anything. That’s why Admiral Komack gave you a medal
and made you a cadet. Because you didn’t do anything.”
Jamie blushed
and leaned close to Uhura’s ear. “At least Daddy didn’t yell at me for wrecking
another communicator.”
The
lieutenant laughed and ruffled her hair. “Go on. It looks like the captain’s
waiting to talk to you.”
Jamie slid
down from her chair, swung herself under the guardrail, and came to stand in
front of the command chair. “Good morning, Captain.”
“Good
morning, Cadet. Come sit up here with me for a minute.”
Jamie
accepted the invitation, but it seemed odd. How often did Daddy invite her to
sit in his chair during his duty shift? Uh . . . never. Usually she had
to beg, and then she could snatch only a few minutes just before he went off
duty. What’s going on?
Tentatively,
Jamie crawled into the small space her father had cleared for her. It was a
tight squeeze. She felt squished.
Suddenly,
Kirk reached down and lifted her onto his lap. “I love you,” he whispered into
her hair. “Don’t ever forget that.”
Jamie tipped
her head back and glanced up. Her father looked troubled, like the time he had
to tell her she might have to go to school somewhere. Her heart skipped a beat.
And it wasn’t a happy skip, either.
Surely, he wasn’t getting ready
to give her bad news!
Admiral Komack had called Daddy away last night. What had they talked about?
“What’s
wrong?” she asked, heart pounding.
Kirk laughed.
“Can’t I say ‘I love you’ without you thinking something is wrong?”
“Well . . .
you . . . I mean . . . you don’t let me sit in your chair very often,” Jamie
said. “Actually, you don’t even let me come up to the bridge first thing.
Usually, you tell me at breakfast to go do my schoolwork. And last night, well,
Admiral Komack pulled you away, so I thought that maybe he changed his mind
about making me a real cadet, and—
The rest was
too horrible to think, much less say: Maybe the admiral told you I have to
go away to school. So, Jamie didn’t say that part out loud.
Kirk pulled
her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Jamie. No, the admiral didn’t change his
mind. I guess I’m just glad to have you back. Those few days you were on the
terrorists’ ship were the longest days of my life.”
Jamie agreed.
Their shore leave on Babel had certainly been a bust.
“Well, then,”
she said, “I love you too. I missed you terribly, but I’m back now, so don’t
worry about me anymore. Okay?”
Kirk didn’t
say anything. He just wrapped his arms around Jamie and held her close while he
stared silently at the view screen.
Jamie relaxed
and wished every morning could start like this. The only thing occupying the
center of the screen was the blue-green orb of the planet Babel. The only
sounds coming from the bridge were the quiet murmurs of the ship’s status
reports in the background and the chirping and all-too-familiar beeps and
clicks from the various stations.
This is
nice, Jamie thought. Maybe
it means we’re still on shore leave. Everybody’s relaxed.
Uhura’s voice
broke through the morning stillness, and Kirk stiffened.
Everybody’s
relaxed except Daddy, Jamie
corrected herself mentally.
“Sir,” Uhura
said, “a message is coming in from Admiral Komack.”
“Put him on
screen.”
The friendly,
white-haired admiral replaced the picture of Babel. He gave Jamie a quick
smile, but then his look turned grim. “Captain Kirk, your assignment to map and
study the nebulae in the beta quadrant has been postponed. You will take aboard
three passengers headed for Centaurus, in the Earth Colonies Confederation.
Once they have beamed down to their destination, you will then proceed to the beta
quadrant and complete your mapping assignment. You have until 1420 today to
finish up any shore leave and recall your crew.”
“Did you hear that, Daddy?” Jamie whispered.
“We could have one more quick shore leave this morning.”
The admiral
smiled. “Haven’t you had enough shore leave, Cadet Kirk?”
Jamie shook
her head. “No, sir. My shore leaves always end in disaster. So, another chance
to visit Six Flags would be awesome!”
He laughed.
Kirk did not.
“Are these the three passengers we discussed last night?”
“Yes, and I
have a few more details about this assignment, which I prefer not to discuss
over the comm line. Why don’t you beam over, and I’ll fill you in.”
Kirk nodded.
“I’m on my way.”
A few minutes
later, Kirk was pacing Admiral Komack’s temporary office on Babel. “They can’t
be serious.”
“I’m afraid
they are. The guardian-ad-litem from the Child Protection Office will not only
be beaming aboard your ship, but she also has the authority to talk to Jamie alone.”
“This is a
nightmare,” Kirk muttered. “What am I supposed to tell Jamie?”
Komack sighed
and looked sympathetic. “I have no idea. Have you found a lawyer?”
“I contacted
Sam Cogley first thing this morning.”
Komack furled
his brow. “Oh, yes. From your ‘court martial’ a couple years ago. Good man. If
anyone can help you, he can.”
Kirk stopped
his pacing and leaned over the desk. “This is ridiculous, Admiral.”
“I know. But
you have to admit, the Enterprise isn’t exactly safe. I can read between
the lines of your reports, so I know Jamie has found herself in more than one
dangerous situation during the past couple of years. If they dig deep enough,
the Winters’ lawyer will find it too.”
Kirk sagged.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Captain
James Kirk?” The beak-nosed, dark-haired woman’s voice was scratchy and harsh.
She stepped from the transporter platform and reached out a thin, dry hand.
“I’m Shelia Fields from the CPO. I’ve come to talk with your daughter.”
Kirk’s gaze
darted from Shelia to the Winters, who were making their way off the platform.
“What about?” he asked. He shook the woman’s hand and waited for her reply.
“They are my
questions, so I need not discuss them with you,” she said. “Then when we reach
Centaurus, I will oversee the child’s temporary placement with the Winters,
pending the hearing.”
Lt. Kyle, at
the transporter console, stared. His eyes widened, but he was well-trained
enough to not say a word.
Kirk’s jaw
clenched. “On what grounds?” He wanted to hear it from somebody other than the
self-important Robert Winter.
The officer
was happy to explain. “Child neglect and endangerment, along with truancy and
emotional abuse.” She paused at the look on Kirk’s face, then continued. “You
and your mediator will have ample opportunity to address the charges at the
hearing, which is set for three months from now. Until then, the child will
stay with her grandparents on Centaurus.”
“I won’t see
my daughter for three months?” Kirk asked, appalled. He had almost been
ready to accept Sam Cogley’s advice to “let her go for a couple of weeks as a
show of cooperation,” but three months? Not a chance. He folded his arms
across his chest. “That is unacceptable, Ms. Fields.”
“You don’t
have a choice, James,” Robert broke in. “We have been granted custody of our
granddaughter. When we reach Centaurus, she will beam down with us.”
Kirk ordered
himself not to jump down his father-in-law’s throat, at least not while the CPO
officer stood there watching. Sam had warned him against showing any outbursts
of anger. Kirk didn’t need his Vulcan first officer to remind him of the logic
in keeping his emotions in check.
“What if I
invite you to stay aboard the Enterprise for a couple of weeks,” he
suggested, “to see what life is like for Jamie aboard my ship?” What he really
wanted to do was beam the three invaders into deep space, but Sam had advised
him against such actions, and instead suggested that he offer a few concessions.
So, as much
as it went against his nature, he took his lawyer’s advice and offered an
alternative, for the record. “I’m sure Admiral Komack would authorize your
stay, and you have my word that you may have unrestricted access to Jamie.” I
can’t believe I’m saying this.
It made him
sick to the pit of his stomach, but he spared a quick glance at the CPO
officer, who looked interested. “Of course, Ms. Fields, the invitation extends
to you as well. I intend to cooperate with the CPO as much as possible.” He smiled,
though it nearly killed him to do so.
This better work, Sam, or I’m getting
myself a new lawyer!
When Shelia
acknowledged his offer with a slight nod, Kirk turned his attention back to the
Winters. One down. Two to go. “Don’t you think this would be a better
way to get to know your granddaughter?” He took a deep breath and offered his
last—and most difficult—concession. “After you get to know each other, if you
still want Jamie to come for a visit on Centaurus, I would be willing to go
along with it.”
Okay, Sam.
I did it. I offered the one thing I said I’d never allow. Forgive me, Ruth! You
would never have given in to your parents like I just did.
To James
Kirk, yanking Jamie off his ship without so much as a “by your leave” and into
the arms of strangers was—at the very least—a heartless thing to do. At worst,
it was child abuse. To make things easier for her, Kirk could swallow his pride
and concede to a lot of things.
Silence fell
over the transporter room for one long, tension-filled minute. Shelia tapped
the screen of her data device, busily taking notes, while Robert Winter pulled
thoughtfully on his lip and looked at his wife.
Finally, the
man let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t see how I can agree to that, James.”
“It’s a
reasonable request,” Shelia said, looking up from her data pad.
Robert
flashed her a silencing look and returned his attention to Kirk. “In case you
are unaware, Captain, it will take the Enterprise a full week to make
the trip from Babel to Centaurus. That seems like plenty of time for Jamie to
get to know us. I see no reason to extend it any longer.”
Kirk stalked
to the intercom. “Quartermaster,” he barked, “report to the transporter room
and show our guests to their quarters.”
“Aye, sir.”
Kirk punched
the intercom again. “Bridge, this is the captain. Prepare to leave orbit.”
“Aye, sir.”
“James,” Anna
called to him, “When will we see Jamie?”
Never! Kirk wanted to shout in her face.
“Tonight, at dinner,” he said.
Then he
turned and hurried from the room without looking back.
Chapter 5
Cadet’s Log, Stardate 2268. 25
Something
very strange is going on around here. First, the summons to the bridge this
morning for no reason at all. Then, this evening, Daddy wanted me to meet some
creepy—uh, scratch that—unusual strangers at dinner. I didn’t know at the time
how weird the old man and the two women he wanted me to meet were. But it
didn’t take long to figure it out. Yep, something very strange is going on.
Jamie was
used to sitting at the captain’s table. Except for a few past embarrassing
moments, which she tried to put out of her mind, eating with her father, the Enterprise
officers, and the ship’s important guests was a privilege she looked forward
to. Most evenings, all she had to do was make sure she came to the table in a
fresh tunic, clean hands and face, and a cheerful smile.
Nothing else
was expected of a small cadet. The captain’s table in the officers’ galley was
the one place aboard ship where Jamie was seen only, and never heard. Not ever.
Jamie was
good at keeping her mouth shut when it counted, and tonight she had a feeling
it counted a lot. She entered the officers’ mess with the utmost decorum.
Skipping was not an option, not after she’d skipped her way smack into
Ambassador Sarek a year ago. Thankfully, Mr. Spock’s mother, Amanda, had taken
Jamie under her wing after her embarrassing moment. The human wife of the very
important Vulcan ambassador had allowed no one to scold Jamie or to tell her
that skipping and tripping over Sarek’s feet was not proper protocol.
But from then
on, Jamie saved her skipping for the gym.
“Come in and
sit down, Jamie.” Kirk smiled at her. But his smile did not reach his eyes, and
Jamie knew right away that something was wrong.
Jamie obeyed,
but her carefully “Spock-honed” awareness kicked into gear. Her Vulcan tutor
had trained her to be observant. “It takes a good deal of effort to train
your mind to see more than your eyes are telling you, but after a while it
becomes second nature,” he often told her.
Well, it
wasn’t quite second nature to Jamie yet, but one look at the visitors set her
to observing carefully. And she didn’t like what she saw.
A very
important-looking older man and an older woman sat to Daddy’s right. Next to
the older woman sat a stony-faced woman with a sour expression. There was
something about her that made Jamie want to turn and run the other way.
On her
father’s left sat Mr. Spock, then an empty seat, then the doctor, Lt. Uhura,
and right on around the table. Jamie knew right away that the empty seat was
for her, across from the two older people. Most of the time, she sat far away
from the head of the table, usually by Mr. Scott or Uhura.
But not
tonight.
Jamie slipped
into her chair and looked at McCoy. He was smiling brightly. Whatever is
bothering the captain is not bothering the doctor, she thought, relaxing.
Daddy told Dr. McCoy everything, so maybe dinner would be okay, after all.
“This is my
daughter, Jamie,” Kirk told the older couple.
Jamie yanked
her attention from the soup the steward had set in front of her and stared at
her father. Since when did Daddy make a point of introducing her to the Enterprise’s
guests?
“This is
Commissioner and Mrs. Winter, Jamie,” Kirk went on. “They’re on their way to
Centaurus.”
“Nice-to-meet-you,”
Jamie said quickly and returned to her soup. She was happy to see no chunky,
green-gray, Aldebaran shell mouths floating around in her bowl. Instead, it was
her favorite kind of soup—chicken noodle—with lots and lots of noodles!
She took a taste. Delicious! She dipped her spoon in for another scoop.
“Jamie.”
She glanced
up, her spoon suspended between the bowl and her mouth.
“Commissioner
Winter asked you a question.”
Jamie lowered
her spoon back into the bowl. Her stomach turned over. Important guests aboard
the Enterprise always ignored her. Confused at this sudden unwanted
attention, she flicked her gaze to the distinguished man seated across from
her. “Yes, sir?”
“Don’t you
miss not having companions your own age with whom to interact?”
“No, sir.” He
seemed to be waiting for something more, but Jamie went back to eating her
soup. Mr. Spock often advised her that when questioned, she should not offer
more information than asked for.
His lesson
suddenly had a practical application. These strange people seemed interested in
her—Jamie Kirk—and that didn’t make sense.
She glanced
at her father. Approval shone in his eyes, and he winked. Jamie ducked her
head. Whatever else happened, she knew Daddy did not like the bigwigs dining at
his table.
Conversation
lagged after that. Jamie felt the tension between the Winters and her father.
Lt. Uhura made an effort to engage the women in small talk, but it ended up
short and stilted. Every time Jamie looked up, the commissioner and his wife
were staring at her.
Halfway
through the main course, Jamie could stand it no longer. She wished she’d eaten
supper in the crews’ mess. Why did the man and women keep looking at her?
“Daddy,” she
said, “could I please be excused? I’m not hungry anymore.”
Kirk started
to answer, but Commissioner Winter cut in. “You have not said more than two
words to us this entire meal.” He gave her a smile. “We’d prefer that you stay
a little longer.”
“Yes,” Mrs.
Winter added. “It isn’t often we get a chance to visit with so charming a
little girl.”
Jamie dropped
her gaze to her plate of uneaten roast beef and potatoes and said, “May I go,
Daddy? Please?”
“You’re
excused,” Kirk said, and Jamie shot up from her seat.
“She hasn’t
finished her meal,” the commissioner said. “Children should eat what is put
before them.”
The room went
deathly quiet. One of Mr. Spock’s eyebrows leaped. Jamie’s mouth dropped open.
The tension in the room crackled.
“She has my
permission to take her leave,” Kirk said.
The man
backed down. “Well, then.” He turned to Jamie. “We would like to get to know
you better, child. Come by our quarters tomorrow at ten o’clock. We are staying
in the VIP rooms on Deck 7.”
Jamie didn’t
miss the demanding tone in the old man’s voice. She’d heard it before from
other VIPs traveling on the Enterprise. He was someone who expected to
be obeyed. She looked at her father. Why would these people want to get to know
her?
“I don’t know
if I can,” she finally answered. “I have a science lab project that’s due for
school. Lieutenant Sulu said he’d help me if I came to the botany lab at ten.”
She turned desperately to Sulu, who was sitting next to Uhura. “Right, Sulu?”
“That’s
right, Cadet,” he replied with a nod. “And—”
“You will
reschedule it.” The commissioner gave Sulu a pointed look.
“Certainly,
Commissioner Winter,” the helmsman replied.
“Excellent,
Lieutenant.” He nodded at Jamie. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jamie rushed
out the door and didn’t look back.
“What’s going
on?” Jamie asked the next morning at breakfast.
Kirk gave her
a blank look. “What do you mean? There’s nothing going on. In fact, this is one
of our more routine assignments. Transport the commissioner and his wife to
Centaurus.”
Jamie took a
swallow of orange juice, plunked the glass down on the table, and shook her
head. “No, Captain, it’s not. Since when do important guests aboard the Enterprise
ask to spend time and talk to me? really. Most passengers ignore me
or wonder why I’m here. Or they yell at me to stay out of their way, like
Ambassador Tronius did a few months ago. He even tried to kick me off the ship,
remember?”
“All too
well,” Kirk muttered.
Jamie tugged
on his sleeve. “So, are you going to tell me, or what?”
Kirk sighed
heavily.
Jamie’s heart
fluttered at the look on her father’s face. He was staring at something on the
other side of the galley. The corner, maybe? He didn’t say a word. It was clear
that his thoughts were a million light years away.
“Earth to
Captain Kirk,” Jamie said.
Kirk blinked
and came back to the here and now. “What do you want?”
“I’ve tried
to get an answer from you for the last five minutes, but it looked like you beamed
out or something.”
Kirk smiled.
“I’m sorry, Jamie.” He stood and picked up both their trays. “Let’s go meet the
Winters.”
“I guess that
means you’re not going to tell me what’s going on.”
“You’ll find
out soon enough.”
“So, there is
something going on,” Jamie accused with a frown. “I knew it! It has
something to do with the Winters and with you. She swallowed. “And with me.” She
scowled. “And whatever it is, it’s not good.”
Kirk smiled. “Mr.
Spock must be teaching you exceptional observing skills. You’re right. It’s not
good.” He put down their trays and pulled her close. “But you’re a Starfleet
cadet now, remember?”
Jamie nodded,
even though she didn’t want to.
“You can handle it,” he whispered. “I promise.”
Chapter 6
Cadet’s Log, Stardate 2268.25
Jamie didn’t
know what to expect when the captain buzzed the VIP quarters. She relaxed a
little bit when she saw Robert and Anna Winter smiling at her. “We are so happy
you could come by for a visit,” Anna purred. “Do come inside.”
Do I have
a choice? Jamie kept
those words to herself, under the category of her smart remark not being
polite. But she stood her ground. She would have given away her dessert cards
for a whole month if she could only be in the botany lab with Sulu right now.
No luck.
Kirk prodded
her gently across the threshold. “Go on, Jamie. I’ve got a ship to run. If you
need anything, just holler. I’ll be on the bridge.” He ruffled her hair. “Have
a good visit and . . . Cadet?”
Jamie turned.
The captain was giving her his listen-carefully-and-I-mean-it look.
“Answer their
questions. That’s an order.” With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared
down the corridor.
Answer their
questions? What questions?
Jamie had no
time to figure out what he meant. Anna took her hand and drew her farther into
the VIP quarters. “I’ve set tea, my dear. Won’t you join us?”
Robert pulled
out a chair and motioned Jamie into it. Heart thumping at this unusual
treatment, she sat down and swept her gaze over the table. It was filled with
all kinds of sweets—chocolate, cookies, frosted cakes. A cup of steaming
chocolate for Jamie. Two cups of hot, fragrant tea for the Winters.
“Help
yourself.” Anna passed Jamie a plate filled with the confections.
Jamie took a
chocolate and bit into it. The sweetness burst in her mouth and made her tongue
tingle. Never had she tasted chocolate quite like this before. The Enterprise
food replicators sure didn’t have anything like it. “It’s good,” she said.
“Where did you get them?”
Robert
smiled. His perfect, straight white teeth gleamed. “We brought them along for a
special occasion. There are no chocolates like these in the entire quadrant. Go
on,” he urged. “Have another.”
Jamie reached
for one more. Then she tried a thin, delicate cookie, which melted in her
mouth. The little frosted cakes were just as tasty, and the cocoa slid down her
throat like smooth velvet.
“You may come
here as often as you like,” Anna told her, “and have just as nice things to
eat. Would you like that?”
Jamie’s mouth
was too full to speak, so she nodded.
The Winters
chatted away, telling Jamie stories of Centaurus. Places they’d been and things
they’d seen. How much they liked children.
The next
moment, the commissioner lifted a clear, round, heavy sphere from a large box.
“This is for you.”
Jamie gasped.
“A World Sphere! For me? Why?”
“Why not?”
Anna said. “Doesn’t every child in the quadrant wish they could have one of
these?”
Jamie nodded,
breathless.
“We often
give gifts to children who can’t afford such luxuries. And here you are, a
lonely little girl aboard a starship, with no companions and no opportunity to
buy a World Sphere,” Robert explained.
Anna laughed.
“Go on. You may try it. It’s yours.”
“For keeps?”
“Of course.”
Carefully,
Jamie lifted the World Sphere from Robert’s hands and drew it onto her lap. She
rubbed her fingers over the glass then touched the controls. Instantly, the
inside of the ball swirled and revealed a purple and orange sky. Waves of an
immense ocean pounded the beach below. A flock of white and scarlet bird-like
creatures soared overhead.
“What planet
is this?” Jamie asked. “It’s beautiful.”
Anna showed
Jamie the display window. “Epsilon Lyrae Four.”
With the
touch of a button, Jamie brought another world into view. “How many scenes are
programmed into this sphere?”
Robert
chuckled. “You know something about World Spheres.”
“I know everything
about them. All the different models, how many scenes each one contains, how
you can upgrade them.” Jamie sighed. “I begged Daddy to buy me one, but
he said they’re too expensive for a captain’s salary. Besides, he says I
visit worlds for real, so why do a I need to stare at a bunch of pictures in a
crystal ball?”
She grinned
up at Anna. “But a World Sphere is not just a picture of a planet. It’s
a living, breathing scene, and it makes me get shivers up and down my arms.”
“The sphere
you are holding is the top of the line,” Robert told her. “It holds 500
planetary scenes, and you can program it to randomly go through them at
intervals. You can also access information about each world you like. It’s the
next-best thing to being there. Best of all, it is completely safe.”
A deluxe
World Sphere! Jamie quickly did the math and remembered how much one of
these things cost. Close to a thousand credits. She gulped and started
to hand it back to the commissioner.
“Daddy won’t
let me keep it. It’s way too expensive, and—”
“Nonsense!”
Robert broke in, refusing to take the sphere. “It’s a gift. I’ll explain it to
him. Believe me, the captain will allow you to keep it. Of that I am
certain.”
There was
something about the man’s voice that made Jamie shiver inside, but she brushed
it off. “That would be great,” she said. “Thank you.”
Just then,
the door to the VIP quarters buzzed. Robert left and returned a minute later
with the thin, spidery-looking woman who had sat next to Mrs. Winter at dinner
last night. She had said only a few words at the table.
“We have
another guest,” Robert announced. “You remember Captain Kirk’s little girl, Ms.
Fields?”
“Indeed.” She
smiled at Jamie. “How are you this morning, my dear?”
“Confused.”
“Her name is
Ms. Shelia Fields, Jamie,” Robert said. “She’s here to ask you a few questions
about how you like living on the Enterprise.”
“Answer
their questions. That’s an order.”
Jamie
swallowed and looked at Robert. “Why?”
Shelia pulled
out a data pad and answered for Robert. “It’s my job.” She turned to the
Winters. “I must ask you to wait elsewhere for the duration.”
“Yes, of
course.” Robert offered Anna his hand, and together they left the room. The
door to their sleeping quarters slid behind them with a quiet whoosh.
Jamie frowned
at Shelia Fields. “I think I’d better go.” She set the World Sphere aside and
stood up.
The woman
laid a hand on her arm. “First I’d like to talk to you. Please.”
“Answer
their questions. That’s an order.”
Jamie slid
back into her seat. “All right.”
Ms. Fields
glanced down at her data pad. Then she looked at Jamie.
And the
questions began.
“Why are you
asking me all this?” Jamie asked half an hour later.
So far, she’d
told Miss Fields how she’d first come aboard the Enterprise, and some of
the things she’d seen and done. Miss Fields seemed genuinely interested in her
adventures, and Jamie found herself warming up to the subject.
“That is not
your concern,” the woman answered. “What I’d like you to do is finish your
account of that pirate who took you hostage at knifepoint. It must have been
terrifying!”
Jamie
shrugged. “I suppose.” Sure, it had been plenty scary at the time. But Jarid
had never meant to hurt her. He was her friend.
“Let me get
this straight,” Ms. Fields said. “An Orion shopkeeper uses an innocent child to
smuggle a jewel of incredible worth right out from under the eyes of the
authorities. Then he tricks you into killing him—”
“But—”
Ms. Fields
silenced Jamie with a look and kept talking. “The Cortinian authorities try to
arrest you, then later your life is threatened right in your own quarters
aboard this very ship. Where were your father’s security guards? Where was your
father?”
Jamie
squirmed. “He was . . . busy.”
The woman’s
eyes grew round. “Too busy to protect you?”
Wrong
answer! Jamie realized
too late. “It wasn’t like that,” she tried to explain. “We didn’t know Jarid
was a pirate. Not until he—”
“The point
is, Jamie Kirk, that you live in danger every waking moment aboard this ship.”
“That’s not
true!”
Ms. Fields
glanced down at her data pad. “There are other incidents I’d like to explore in
more detail, but I feel I have enough to file my report.”
Jamie paled.
“What report?”
“All in good
time.” Her face softened. “Believe me, Jamie. The Winters have only your best
interests in mind. They are worried about you and want to make sure you are
safe. I’m afraid I must report that the Enterprise is not a safe and
secure environment for a child.”
Jamie leaped
to her feet. “It is too safe!”
What was
going on? Was this woman telling her that now, of all times, she might have to
leave the Enterprise? No! Ms. Fields wasn’t Starfleet. How could she
make any decisions?
“What do the Winters have to do with
anything?” Jamie asked.
“Why, don’t
you know? The Winters are your grandparents.”
Chapter 7
Ms. Fields
rose and crossed to where Jamie stood, trembling. “The Winters are your
mother’s parents, Jamie. They saw you for the first time last week on Babel and
want very much to get to know you. They want you to stay with them on
Centaurus, where you’ll be safe.”
“I’m safe here
on the Enterprise.” Jamie backed toward the door. “And the Winters aren’t
my grandparents. They can’t be.” Sudden tears stung her eyes. “I don’t want to
leave the Enterprise.”
“I
understand.”
“No, you
don’t,” Jamie said. “You made me answer all kinds of stupid questions about
what I do aboard ship, where I’ve been, and things that have happened.” Jamie
kicked herself mentally. I blabbed on and on! What kind of Starfleet cadet
blabs to the enemy?
The kind
of cadet who doesn’t know they are the enemy. Who doesn’t know that all the
sweets and presents are just a trick! Dumb, dumb, dumb!
“You’re just
trying to find a reason to force my dad to make me leave.”
A hot rush of
anger made Jamie’s cheeks flame and her tears dry up. She didn’t know who she
was angrier at—the Prune Lady for tricking her, or Daddy, who must have known
all along who the Winters were.
He let me
walk right into a trap!
No warning. No nothing.
Since Ms.
Fields was handy, Jamie let her have the full force of her fear and rage. “It’s
none of your business where I live,” she hollered. “You can’t make me
leave the Enterprise. Only Admiral Komack can do that, and he said I can stay. And he’s more
important than you.”
She took
another backward step toward the door, and it whooshed open. “I’m not answering
any more of your stupid questions, and I don’t want to see you or the Winters ever
again!” She looked at the World Sphere. “Tell them I don’t want their dumb
ol’ World Sphere.”
Her shouting
and disrespect brought Robert and Anna Winter running from their room. Her
grandfather’s face was wrinkled up with the scariest scowl Jamie had ever seen.
“How dare you speak to an adult like that,” he scolded. “You will
apologize at once. Then you will sit down and allow Ms. Fields to finish
speaking with you. Do I make myself clear?”
Jamie shook from
head to toe. Instead of obeying, she took another step backward. “No, Mr.
Winter, you do not.” Then she turned and fled.
“Jamie!” Miss
Fields called. “Come back!”
Jamie ignored
her and raced down the corridor. She heard Mr. Winter boom after her, “Return
at once, young lady!”
Nothing
doing! Jamie sprang
into the turbo lift. “Bridge!”
Then she slumped
to the floor let all her angry and frightened tears flow. Her throat felt so
tight she could hardly breathe. Why
didn’t Daddy tell her those awful old people were her grandparents? Why didn’t
he warn her to keep her mouth shut?
Whose side is he on, anyway? Jamie could
have told other stories, stories about following Scotty around and looking at
the warp nacelles, or about the experiments she did in Sulu’s lab. Or logic
lessons with Mr. Spock.
“All that
lady asked me about was the scary stuff.” Jamie rubbed her eyes against her
shirt sleeve. “No fair!”
By the time
Jamie arrived on the bridge, her tears were under control. . The doors whooshed
open and she darted onto the quarterdeck, eyes wide. Her father was nowhere in
sight. She grasped the hand railing to keep from shaking and took two deep
breaths. “Where’s the captain?” she choked out.
Mr. Spock
turned from his science station. “He is in engineering but should be returning
momentarily. Is something wrong?”
Jamie shook
her head and didn’t answer Mr. Spock’s question. Instead, she swung under the
guard rail and crawled into her father’s chair without a word. I’m not
supposed to be here, she thought. But please, Mr. Spock! Don’t kick me
off the bridge.
She stared
view screen, which was displaying a navigational schematic rather than the
usual, eerie scene of warp space. Blinking back tears, she scrunched down and
tried to sniff quietly, so no one would notice.
But someone
did notice.
Sulu turned
around and flashed her a cheerful grin. “What’s bugging you?” he asked.
“Did somebody sit on your tribble?”
Jamie sniffed
and took a deep breath. “If I asked you to run somebody through with your
rapier, would you do it?” Sulu was the best fencer on board the Enterprise.
“Who did you
have in mind?” he teased.
“It’s not
funny,” Jamie said. “I mean it. Would you skewer somebody if I asked you to?”
“I’ll think
about it.” He chuckled and returned to his helm controls.
Jamie stared
at her lap and tried to hold back her tears. I am in control of my emotions,
she chanted silently, remembering a logic lesson. I am in control of—
No use. “I am
not in control of my emotions,” she whispered, “and I don’t care!” She
let her tears return and wished Daddy would show up on his bridge so he could
tell her it wasn’t true.
“Jamie.”
Her head
snapped up. Mr. Spock stood in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back.
He was regarding her with curiosity. And compassion.
“Yes, sir?”
she whispered.
“May I be of
assistance? You appear distressed.”
Good
guess, Mr. Spock! “There’s nothing you can do,” she said
and ducked her head.
But Mr.
Spock’s offer touched Jamie. More tears leaked out. She brushed them away as
fast as they fell. She couldn’t let
Mr. Spock see her cry. How illogical is that?
For the past
two years, Mr. Spock had patiently tutored Jamie in a variety of fascinating
subjects. She knew it wasn’t because Daddy had asked him to do it, either. It
was like . . . well . . . like he wanted to teach her. He even used his
off-duty time to do it.
The games
they played and the study tapes he assigned her were interesting and opened her
eyes to many new ways of thinking. Jamie got the feeling that maybe, just maybe,
Mr. Spock liked her, at least a little bit.
I sure
like him, she thought.
While Jamie
didn’t really care what her other tutors thought, she cared a great deal what
the Enterprise’s first officer thought. She did not want him to think
she was an emotional, crying, baby human. She was almost ten years old. On
Vulcan, a ten-year-old easily controlled his or her emotional outbursts.
Why can’t I? I so scared and mad all at
the same time. I wish I was a Vulcan girl.
“Are you
ill?”
Startled at
the question, Jamie looked up. To her astonishment, Spock was squatting in
front of the chair, right at her eye level.
“If you are
ill,” he continued, “I will assist you to sick bay, even though Dr. McCoy’s
idea of treatment amounts to little more than beads and rattles.” He raised an
eyebrow.
Jamie stared.
Was Mr. Spock trying to cheer her up by making a joke?
She wanted to
laugh, but tears came instead. Fear gripped her from the inside out.
Mr. Spock
looked baffled. “Are you in pain?”
Then he did
the unthinkable. He reached out and rested one large hand over Jamie’s small
hand. His eyes grew wide, and a flash of pain crossed his face. An instant
later, his features returned to their normal, calm state.
“Indeed,” he
said, removing his hand. “If you share what is troubling you, I am confident we
can solve this problem logically. Remember, there are always possibilities.”
“Not this
time, Mr. Spock,” Jamie whispered, just loudly enough for the Vulcan’s
sensitive ears to pick up. “Logic won’t work.” Then she thought of something.
“Maybe a Vulcan nerve pinch?” She flashed him a hopeful look.
Mr. Spock
rose and beckoned Jamie to accompany him. “Perhaps. If you tell me why, I’ll
see if there is a logical reason for doing so.”
Jamie slid
from the captain’s chair and clutched Mr. Spock’s hand. He flinched but did not
let go. Jamie knew it was a bold move. She had never held his hand before. But
his touch made her fear recede a tiny bit.
“Mr. Sulu,”
Spock said as he stepped up on the quarterdeck, “you have the con.”
“Aye, sir.”
At that
moment, the lift doors opened.
Kirk took one
look at his tearful daughter and his first officer holding hands and instantly
became alert. “Spock, what’s wrong?”
“That is what
I am trying to ascertain, Captain.” Spock released Jamie’s hand and steered her
toward Kirk. “I believe, sir, that it might be appropriate to give her . .
. a hug. Then perhaps she will tell you
what she cannot seem to tell me.”
Kirk’s
eyebrows rose, but Jamie launched herself into his arms and began to sob before
he could respond. He backed into the turbo lift. “I guess you have the bridge
for a few more minutes, Spock.”
A slight
inclination of the Vulcan’s head showed his acceptance.
The doors
closed, and the lift began its descent.
“Oh, Daddy!”
Jamie sobbed, “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me I don’t have to leave the Enterprise.”
Kirk groaned.
“I’m sorry. Who told you this?”
“That
dried-up lady, Ms. Fields. She asked me a lot of questions, about things only
the crew should know. How does she know Enterprise secrets?”
“I don’t
know,” Kirk confessed. “She probably did a lot of guessing, and she guessed
right.” He winced. Admiral Komack had warned him that it wasn’t hard to read
between the lines of an official report.
“She told me
it’s not safe for me to stay here,” Jamie said. “The Winters want me to stay
with them on Centaurus. Ms. Fields told me”—her voice caught—“that they’re my .
. . my . . .” She couldn’t get the words out.
“Your
grandparents,” Kirk filled in, holding her tight.
Jamie stared
up at her father. “That ol’ Prune Lady is lying, right?” She frowned in
thought. “Why are they really here? And why do they really want me to go
with them? Is it like . . . a mission?” She swiped away a tear and waited
breathlessly for his answer.
Kirk buried
his face in Jamie’s tangled waves and said nothing.
“Tell me the
Winters are not my grandparents, Daddy.”
“I can’t. They
are your grandparents, whether we like it or not.”
Jamie shoved
away from her father and slammed backward against the turbolift doors. “Why
didn’t you tell me? You pretended they were just any other visitors. I knew
something was wrong, but you didn’t tell me!”
The lift came
to a stop, and the doors whooshed open. Jamie leaped to escape.
Before she
could clear the lift, a firm hand grasped her arm and yanked her back inside.
The doors whooshed shut. “Hold,” Kirk said.
He wasn’t
talking to Jamie. He was talking to the ’lift, and it obeyed him at once. The
turbolift would not be going anywhere for some time.
Then Kirk did
something Jamie had never seen her father do before. He let go of her and sat
down, right on the deck of the turbolift. He leaned against the wall and let
out a long, sorrowful breath.
“Please sit
down, honey. We have to talk. I know you’re angry with me, with the Winters,
with Ms. Fields. But I want you to settle down and listen to me for a few
minutes. Then, if you want to stay angry, I’ll unlock the ’lift and you can
leave. I’ll give you as much space as you want. Because believe me, I’m just as
angry as you are.”
Jamie slid to
the deck and plopped to the ground across from Kirk. She crossed her arms over
her chest and gave her father a stony look. Then she nodded.
Kirk relaxed.
“I have a feeling the Winters will not be happy with Ms. Fields. They didn’t
want anyone to tell you they were your grandparents. At least not yet.
They wanted you to get to know them first. I’m terribly sorry, Jamie, but I was
under orders as well. Court orders, which I dared not ignore. I couldn’t tell
you.”
He shook his
head. “This whole thing is more complicated than you know. I’m sick to my
stomach having to deal with these people. But Robert and Anna Winter are your
grandparents. They’re your mother’s parents.”
“Why didn’t I
ever know about them?”
“It’s a long
story.” He sighed. How much do I tell her?
Kirk was
walking on a wobbly tightrope. It would be nearly impossible to tell the story
without bitterness coming through. But he had to try.
“Come here.” He
held out his arms. Jamie scooted over, and Kirk pulled her into his lap. “I
loved your mother, Jamie, and she loved me. But her mother and father
did not think it was a good idea that we get married . . .”
Twenty
minutes later, Jamie’s eyes were wide and scared. “Do they still hate you,
Daddy?”
“Worse than
ever,” Kirk replied, grinning. “But that’s not your problem. They do
love you, even if they have no use for me.”
They’d
better love her, he
thought viciously, or there will be the devil to pay. “They want you to
stay with them for a bit. A nice visit. Wouldn’t you like to get to know them
better?” It took every ounce of command training to keep his voice light and
convincing.
Jamie shook
her head so fiercely that her golden waves slapped Kirk in the face. “You can
make it sound nice, Daddy, but I know you don’t want me to go. You’re just
pretending it will be nice. I can tell. Your heart is beating fast and your
arms are shaking.”
So much
for Command Training. A nine-year-old has me figured out and has effectively
called my bluff. He
sighed and held her close. “You’re right. I don’t want you to go.”
“Don’t worry.
I’m not going anywhere with them. They’re strangers. And they’re
sneaky.” She told him about the World Sphere and the sweets.
Kirk felt
nothing but compassion for his little girl. Leave it to Robert Winter to try
and buy affection when he could get it no other way. “I’m afraid it’s out of
our hands.”
“What do you
mean? You’re my father! And you’re the captain. Just say no, Daddy. I
don’t want to leave you, not even for a short visit. I’m sorry I got mad at
you. I know why you couldn’t tell me now. But surely you can keep me here! If I
leave, I don’t think that dried-up prune lady will let me come back. What’s she
doing here, anyway?”
“She’s a lady
who decides if children are safe, and if they are not, she finds a safe place
for them. A judge has already decided that the Enterprise is not the
safest place in the galaxy. You must stay with your grandparents for three
months, until an official court hearing.”
Jamie
slumped. “This is terrible.”
“Yes,” Kirk
agreed. “Your grandparents are rich and powerful people. I feel sick about this,
but I don’t know how to fix this. Sam Cogley, my lawyer, says the real battle
will be in three months, and that we should go along with them for now.”
“I won’t go,”
she whispered. “Nobody can make me.”
“I could take
you and run, but there’s no place to go. They’d find us, toss me in the brig,
and hand you over to the Winters anyway.” He rose to his feet and drew Jamie up
with him. “Listen, Cadet. It’s only for three months. Sam and I will have our
case put together by the time the hearing is called. You have to go with your
grandparents until then.”
He grinned.
“Think of it as the ultimate Starfleet assignment. After this, you’ll never be
afraid of falling into Klingon hands.”
Jamie didn’t
return the smile. “I’d rather stay with the Klingons.”
Chapter 8
Cadet’s Log, Stardate 2268.26
One week
later, The Enterprise achieved orbit around Centaurus, and Jamie’s brief
stay aboard the Enterprise came to a painful, heart-breaking end.
Stoically and stubbornly, she refused to speak with the Winters, no matter how
hard they tried to engage her in conversation. She hadn’t spoken to the CPO
agent, either. She looked frustrated at each meeting.
The entire week
before arriving, Kirk permitted Jamie free access to the bridge, day or night.
She planted herself in her father’s chair stared at the view screen, memorizing
it, savoring each sound as the crew went about their daily tasks of running a
starship.
And planning.
Quietly, cautiously, Jamie was planning. No one must know. Nobody can find
out.
The entire
bridge crew was clearly broken up about the injustice of it all. The Winters
ranted and raved, but Kirk stood firm. He denied them access to the bridge and
made sure Security backed his orders up. It was a safe haven, an island of
peace before the storm of parting broke and Jamie was ripped away.
Now, the ship
was in orbit around Centaurus. It was a bright blue and green world, but Jamie
didn’t enjoy the view. She was keenly aware that this would be the last time
she stood on the bridge of the USS Enterprise for a very long time, even
if her dubious plan worked.
No more
teasing Sulu and Chekov into letting her take the helm. No more listening in on
Lt. Uhura’s comm board. No more waiting to see if Dr. McCoy would get Mr. Spock
to crack a smile or a frown. And no more stepping onto the bridge to see her
father sitting in his command chair, eager to take the ship on a new adventure.
A gentle tug
on her hand roused Jamie from her thoughts. “Come on, Cadet. It’s time to go.”
Reluctantly,
Jamie allowed her father to lead her onto the quarterdeck. Just before she
entered the turbo lift, she turned for a final farewell. “Good-bye, everybody.
Thanks for letting me hang around up here.” She turned to Mr. Spock. “Good-bye,
Mr. Spock.”
Spock gave
Jamie the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Jamie. Remember your lessons.”
Jamie
returned the salute. Then she let her hand drop limply to her side. “I’ll try.
But it won’t be easy. Don’t forget me.”
“That,” Mr.
Spock said, “will be impossible.” One eyebrow went up.
Jamie
couldn’t help it. She grinned, which was no doubt Mr. Spock’s intention. Who
wanted to see a sad, sour face and remember her that way?
In a burst of
affection for the Vulcan first officer, Jamie darted across the bridge and
engulfed him in a tight hug. “Forgive me, Mr. Spock, but I just had to hug
you.”
Quietly, then
louder, the bridge crew erupted into applause. Everybody was grinning. Never
had they seen Mr. Spock caught in an impromptu embrace. The Vulcan looked
flustered, but he did not untangle Jamie’s arms from around his waist or ask
her to desist. Instead, he stood quietly and let Jamie get her fill.
When she
unwrapped her arms from around his waist, she heard a quiet whisper in her ear.
“Do not let Dr. McCoy hear of this.”
Jamie giggled
and looked up. “I won’t tell him. He would never, ever let you hear the
end of it.” Then she turned and darted toward the turbo lift before she broke
down in front of the bridge crew. As she rushed past Uhura, the lieutenant
wiped her eyes. “Make us proud, Cadet,” she called.
The turbo
lift whooshed shut, and Jamie slammed her fist against the back wall. “No!” she
hollered. Her tears had dried up days ago, but she still had plenty of anger
bottled up inside. “Don’t let them take me, Daddy,” she tried one more time.
The captain
picked her up. “Forgive me, Jamie, and be patient.”
Father and
daughter were a sorry sight when they entered the transporter room, ten minutes
past the beam-down time. The Winters stood near the console, obviously
irritated at the delay. When they saw Jamie’s grim face, Robert let out a loud
breath.
“What lies
have you been feeding this child?” he demanded. Then he turned to Jamie. “Wipe
that pout off your face, young lady. I am your grandfather, not an Orion taking
you away to sell as a slave.”
Jamie glared
at the man.
“Did you hear
me?” Robert insisted.
“Robert,
please,” Anna said. “The child is upset enough. She’ll get over it. Let’s just get
off this dreadful ship and back to civilization.” She smiled at Jamie, who
turned her head away and buried her face in Kirk’s tunic.
Clearly
furious yet helpless, Kirk turned to Robert Winter. “You can be sure, sir, that
I will find out if you harm my daughter in any way.”
Robert
snorted. “Rubbish!” He waved at Jamie. “Come along. It’s time to leave.”
It’s now
or never, Jamie told
herself. I hope Daddy doesn’t paddle my backside for this. Her head
snapped up, and with a small gasp she burst out, “Oh, no! I forgot something!”
Then she
raced out the door as fast as a horta and disappeared around the corner
at the end of the corridor.
Robert and
Anna gaped.
Kirk was not
far from doing the same. What could she
have forgotten? He shrugged when the Winters glared at him. “She probably forgot
K-7.”
“What is a
K-7?” Robert asked.
“Her
tribble.”
“Nonsense.
We’ll get her a pony or a kitten or a puppy or anything else she wants, but no
tribbles.”
“Robert,”
Anna said, “there is no harm in one little tribble. I assume it doesn’t breed,
Captain?”
“No, it’s
just the one, and it will remain that way, unless the shot McCoy gave it
somehow wears off.” He shuddered at the possibility.
Robert
sighed. “All right, Anna, if you insist. She may bring the creature along if it
makes you happy.” He gave Kirk a see-I-am-not-heartless look.
The minutes
rolled by, but Jamie did not return.
“What is
taking her so long?” Anna asked.
Kirk didn’t
know, and he preferred not to guess. A sudden, uneasy idea wiggled around at
the back of his mind. No, she wouldn’t
dare, he told himself. On the other
hand, she feels trapped and—
“Where did
she go, James?” Robert demanded.
“I’m not
sure. But she’ll be back momentarily.”
The uneasy
feeling grew stronger. He didn’t want to, but Kirk knew he’d better at least
look like he was cooperating with the Winters. He strolled over to the
intercom and punched it. “Cadet Jamie Kirk,” he said, using his
this-is-the-captain voice, “report to the transporter room, on the double.”
But somehow,
he knew she would not.
Fifteen
minutes later, the Winters expressed aloud what Kirk had been thinking all
along.
“The child
has run away and hidden,” Robert said. “Where is she?”
“I honestly
don’t know,” Kirk replied. “But she’s still aboard the ship.”
Robert
exploded. “Of course she’s on the ship. Find her, Captain.”
“That,” Kirk
said with a sigh, “will be easier said than done. Jamie knows every square
centimeter of the Enterprise.”
The ship was the
size of a small city, with nooks and crannies only a curious child could
discover in her spare time. And Jamie had had plenty of spare time during the
past two years. She could be anywhere.
“We want to
beam down within the hour,” Robert said.
“It will take
longer than that to find her,” Kirk confessed. “She could hide out for days
before somebody found her, even with a Phase Two search. Does this not prove
how much she wishes to stay? She’s desperately unhappy at the thought of
leaving the ship. Won’t you reconsider—”
“Find her!”
Robert roared. “Or I will be tempted to believe you put her up to this. If she
is not found in one hour, I will file charges, Captain.”
Great.
Just great.
Kirk headed
to the intercom and slammed the button. “Attention, Security. This is the
captain. I am ordering a Phase Two search of this vessel from top to bottom,
effective immediately.”
“Security
here, Captain.” Lt. Commander Stoddard sounded puzzled. “A Phase Two search?
That may take a while. What are we looking for?”
“Our little
cadet,” Kirk said with an unhappy sigh. “And . . . good luck with that.”
Chapter 9
Cadet’s Log, Stardate 2268.32
Jamie shut
off the tri-corder and carefully set it down next to the very last seat in the
shuttlecraft Boyle. Then she pulled out a pillow, a blanket, a package
of dried fruit, and a box of milk. She made a face at the milk. It might taste nasty
if it wasn’t cold, but at least it wouldn’t spoil. Those little boxes were
zapped with all kinds of radiation to kill bacteria. At least, that’s what Dr.
McCoy told her when she hadn’t wanted to pack the milk on one of the Babel
field trips.
The doctor
was right. Little boxes of irradiated liquids probably lasted forever. She
jammed the straw into the tiny hole and took a cautious sip.
I’ve
tasted worse, she
decided. Besides, it was worth a little suffering if it meant staying aboard
the Enterprise.
Jamie
shuddered when she remembered how close she had come to being caught an hour
ago. After all, a Phase Two search was nothing to joke about. Those guys can
find anybody! She grinned. Except me.
After fleeing
the transporter room, Jamie had hightailed it to the pool, where she’d hidden
out in the locker room, just to get her bearings. Plenty of unused lockers
lined the walls, and they were roomy enough for her to wiggle her way inside
and wait until her father ordered the Phase Two search. She knew the locker
room would eventually be searched, but she didn’t plan on being there when it
was.
When the
search orders went out over the intercom, Jamie counted slowly to two hundred.
Then she darted out of the locker room, raced for an access tube, slid down the
pole, and landed with a thump on the Engineering deck. A flash of color came
around the corner. Jamie squeezed herself into a corner and hoped the crewman
would not see her.
He didn’t.
Crewman Thompson seemed in a hurry to be someplace else.
Five minutes
later, Jamie slipped through the hangar deck doors, tiptoed across the vast,
empty hall, and disappeared inside the Boyle. Since the hangar deck was
always the first place Security swept in a Phase Two search, all Jamie had to
do was stay out of sight for ten minutes. No one would check it a second time.
The Boyle was off-line and had just completed routine maintenance, so it
was unlikely anyone would open the craft up or take it out into space.
Perfect plan.
Perfect hideaway.
Jamie’s heart
had been racing ever since. She sighed and took another sip of milk. I
wonder how long somebody can live on boxed milk, boxed juice, crackers, and
dried fruit.
She snuggled under the blankets on the
floor, picked up her tri-corder, and scrolled down the screen to find a video
to watch. Her heart slowed to a steadier beat. It was going to be a long wait.
James Kirk
stalked into Sickbay with a pounding headache. Security was no closer to
finding his daughter than they had been six hours ago. Add to that the constant
harping of Robert Winter, and Kirk needed a drink . . . and a friend. Bones
McCoy covered both those requirements.
Without a
word, McCoy broke out two small glasses and a decanter of Saurian brandy, the
house special and McCoy’s prescription for a number of ailments that plagued
his captain. He splashed the amber liquid into a glass and handed it over.
“What a nightmare,” he muttered. “Worse than an outbreak of Rigellian Fever. No
cure for that; no cure for bad relatives.”
Kirk agreed
and downed the drink in one bitter swallow. He held out his glass for more, but
McCoy shook his head. “Sorry, Captain. One is medicinal. But two? I can’t
sanction that.” He downed his own drink and let the silence hang over the two
of them. “I’m surprised the Winters didn’t follow through with their threat to
file charges against you,” he finally said, “insisting that you put Jamie up to
this little runaway scenario.”
Kirk
shrugged. “I think they realized that filing charges would not bring Jamie out
of hiding. I called their bluff and told them to file away. In fact, I
encouraged them to beam down to Centaurus and begin the procedure.” He smiled.
“They refuse to leave the ship without their granddaughter. They think I’ll
spirit her away if they do.” He frowned. “I would if I could.”
McCoy laid an
understanding hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “I know exactly how you feel. When
Jocelyn and I divorced and she got Joanna, I didn’t think I could live with it.
It hurt so badly. Going into space didn’t help, but I had no choice. I had to
let her go and only see her on leave, which wasn’t all that often.”
Kirk fell
into a nearby seat. “Are you saying I’m going to lose Jamie?”
“Of course
not,” McCoy said. “But it will feel like it at first. I just wanted to let you
know that I feel your pain and . . .” He took a deep breath. “I know how to
find her.”
Kirk leaped
to his feet. “You do?” he exploded. “Then why—”
“Calm down,
Jim,” McCoy said. “It’s really quite simple. I’ve known all along, but for
Jamie’s sake, I kept quiet. I wanted her to enjoy a small feeling of being in
control of her situation. She probably planned it all week. Why crash her
hiding place right away?”
He gave Kirk
a wicked smile. “And I thought I’d let the Winters sweat a bit. It’s good for
their souls to occasionally be reminded that they are not all that much in
control. Not really. No harm done.”
“Bones!” Kirk
silenced him. “Just tell me how to find her before some tin-plated bureaucrat
decides to listen to the Winters, arrest me, and haul me off to a prison colony
for impeding a court order.”
McCoy sat
down and brought up his computer screen. “Take it easy, Captain,” he suggested
mildly. Then he smiled. It looked like the good doctor had not had this much
fun in weeks.
A horrible
thought suddenly crossed Kirk’s mind. “Bones, you didn’t help her, did
you?”
McCoy’s blue
eyes gave his captain his “Who? Little ol’ me?” look. Then he chuckled. “No,
our bright cadet managed this one all on her own.”
Kirk bored
into his friend with a frustrated glare, and the doctor gave in. “Oh, all
right. How many children are aboard the Enterprise?” He fiddled with the
settings on the screen and leaned back to wait for an answer.
“You know
there’s only Jamie,” Kirk replied impatiently.
“The resting
heartbeat of a child is faster than an adult’s,” McCoy said. “If I adjust the
settings to mask out any heartbeat under, say, ninety beats per minute, then the
heartbeats over ninety that are left, especially this time of the evening, can
be narrowed down to either someone exercising or”—he leaned forward and tapped
the screen—“it will be Jamie’s. There,” he finished. “Twenty-three readings
over ninety.”
Kirk let out
an irritated breath. “Get to the point, Bones.”
“Twenty-two
of the heartbeats are coming from the gym and the pool. However, the other
heartbeat is isolated somewhere on the hangar deck. Jamie’s probably bedded
down snug as a bug in a shuttlecraft, and sound asleep.” He crossed his arms
over his chest. “She knows what goes on during a Phase Two search and—”
“She waited
until the hangar deck was searched and then sneaked back in,” Kirk finished. He
grinned and headed for the door.
“Are you
calling off the search?” McCoy asked.
Kirk nodded.
“But quietly. I don’t want the Winters to know I’ve found her.” He sighed and
headed for the door. “Thanks, Bones . . . I think.”
“I
understand,” McCoy replied. Just as the door whooshed open, he called out,
“Say, Jim, do me a favor, will you?”
Kirk nodded.
“Don’t tell
Jamie I’m the traitor.”
Kirk waved
his agreement and hurried through his ship. The corridors were quiet; the
lights dimmed for the gamma shift—the eight hours during the low watch. His
heels clicked noisily when he crossed the hanger deck and entered the Boyle.
He paused.
Jamie always
slept soundly, and tonight was no exception. The captain looked down at her and
wished he didn’t have to shatter her dream of being safely hidden. She was
wrapped up in a light-blue fleece blanket, just like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
And no
wonder. There was no heat in the shuttlecraft, and the hangar bay was kept to
minimum temperature during the low watches.
He squatted
down beside Jamie and watched her sleep. After all, it would be the last time
he did this for three whole months. Maybe longer. He shook his head. He
couldn’t project that far ahead.
There was no
hurry to wake her at this time of night. Even the Winters had retired for the
evening. No, tomorrow morning would be soon enough to burst her bubble and make
sure she beamed down to Centaurus.
But for now?
I’m not
tired anyway, Kirk
decided. Gently, he reached under the fleece wrappings, lifted Jamie into his
arms, and made himself comfortable, or as much as he could in the utilitarian
shuttlecraft. Then he turned out the lights and held her.
All night
long.
Something’s
wrong.
The thought
hit Jamie during that in-between time—those drowsy, dreamy minutes between
sleeping and waking. For one thing, she was warm and lying on something soft
and squishy.
Very
wrong, she decided. I
fell asleep on the hard deck of the shuttlecraft.
She opened
one eye. It was as dark as the inside of a black hole, except for the faint
blinking of the green “readiness” light on the shuttle’s dashboard thirty feet
away. She opened both eyes and sat up with a start. Who turned out the
lights?
A groan made
Jamie’s heart leap into her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep
from screaming. The groan was coming from the squishy something that she
had jabbed her elbows into when she sat up.
Jamie
gathered all her courage to flee for the exit and leaped up. A large, warm hand
curled around her arm.
“It’s okay,
Jamie,” a fuzzy and half-asleep voice said. “It’s me. I wanted to spend our
last night together. Just you and me.” There was a shifting around in the dark,
and suddenly the overhead lights came on.
Jamie blinked
and gasped.
“Do I look
that bad?” Kirk ran his fingers through his mussed hair. He straightened his
tunic and yawned. “That was one lousy night. I should not have fallen asleep. I
didn’t plan to.”
He smiled at
Jamie’s astonished expression and pulled her into his lap. “I meant to hold you
all night, but suddenly, there I was, on the deck.” He shuddered. “Definitely
not my best night’s sleep.”
Jamie did not
say a word. This was a terrible surprise! A terrible, awful, Klingon-scary
surprise. Her eyes pooled with tears. How did he find me?
He’s the
captain. He knows everything, she
answered her own question.
“Are you
going to punish me?” she whispered. Probably a spanking. A horrible spanking
to send me off to my horrible grandparents.
Kirk frowned.
“You certainly deserve a paddling, Cadet, and if you had pulled this
stunt for any other reason, you can bet you’d have felt it way before now. But”—he
squeezed her in a hug—“I know how you feel. It’s punishment enough to be found
out and have to beam down this morning.”
Jamie nodded,
defeated. She’d lost, and there was no reason to keep fighting. “At least I got
to spend one more night aboard the Enterprise,” she said softly, “with
you.”
Kirk reached
around to one of the seats and grabbed a small, shiny device. “Here, I have
something for you.” He dropped the communicator into Jamie’s hand.
“Another
one?” She smiled. “These are like . . . well, like disposable communicators
lately.”
Kirk laughed.
“I don’t care. This one is yours to do with whatever you want. Of course, you
won’t be able to contact the Enterprise with it. The ship will be out of
range in the beta quadrant for the next few months. But Starfleet ships orbit
Centaurus on a regular basis. You can contact them. I’m sure their captains
would be happy to pass along any message you want to send me. Just tell them
who you are.”
Jamie’s heart
leaped with hope. “Oh, Daddy! That would be great! I was hoping the Winters
might let me send a subspace message once in a while, but I think those things
cost lots of credits.”
“They do,”
Kirk agreed. “Not that your grandparents don’t have plenty of credits, but I
doubt they’d agree to spend it contacting me. We’ll just leave them out
of the loop, okay?”
Jamie nodded.
“You have to
check the port master’s website to see which ships are in orbit. Then you can
call them any time you like. No cost, no fuss, no port master, and no one the
wiser.” He bent closer and whispered in her ear. “But don’t let your
grandparents find out about it.”
“Never!”
Jamie whispered back. She threw her arms around Kirk’s neck. “A real secret,
Captain. This is a mission we’ll never forget, right?”
“That’s for
sure.” Kirk stood, stretched his aching muscles, and looked down at Jamie.
“That’s it, then. Let’s get some breakfast, gather up that silly tribble your
grandfather says you may take along, and show the Winters how a Starfleet cadet
conducts herself in the face of adversity.”
Jamie nodded.
She felt better. Lots better. One extra night had made all the difference.
Chapter 10
Jamie figured
out pretty quick that conducting herself like a Starfleet cadet during times of
adversity was easier said than done. She started out hoping to make her grandparents
proud of her and show them she was . . .
What had the
Prune Lady worried about? Oh, yes, that Jamie was well-adjusted and showed no
adverse effects from living aboard a starship.
Maybe if they
saw how well-adjusted she was, Jamie might be allowed to go home early.
No use. One long
month into her visit, Jamie realized that nothing she said or did made her
grandparents happy or proud. She didn’t sit up straight enough at the dinner
table. She talked about things Grandfather said were unacceptable. She was
never allowed to talk about the Enterprise or life at Grandma Kirk’s.
What was she
supposed to talk about? She wasn’t even ten years old yet, and the only places
she had ever lived were the farm in Iowa or the Enterprise.
Jamie doubted
her grandparents wanted to hear about the afternoon she spent aboard a Klingon
battle cruiser. Or the two days she’d spent on shore leave with Sulu and Uhura,
tramping around the dark side of a planet in the Saggi System.
She shivered
in remembered delight. Not one thing had gone wrong during those two days.
They’d had a delightful time.
Grandfather
didn’t want to hear about the time she’d had the run of Space Station K-7,
either. Station Manager Lurry’s son, Jacen, had showed her a secret
compartment, and they’d had a grand time exploring tunnels and old passageways.
Funny. Nothing scary or dangerous had happened that day, either.
“Tell me how
school went today,” Grandfather’s command at dinner brought Jamie out of her
daydreaming.
She sighed
quietly, so it wouldn’t show on the outside. Grandfather did not allow sighing.
But the word “school” made Jamie either sigh or yawn. Nothing ever happened
there. For five hours a day, Jamie had to endure lessons she already knew. Even
her Vulcan class was duller than dull.
The teacher
had looked horrified the day Jamie asked if she could attend a different Vulcan
class. She learned the hard way that fourth graders never attended sixth-grade
classes.
The whole
idea of grade levels was foreign to her, thanks to Mr. Spock. The level of the material
had no bearing on whether Jamie might be ready to learn it or not. When she was
ready, she proceeded to the next task.
Time spent in
this new, fancy, private girls’ school classroom revolved around what the
teachers called “cooperative” learning. This was—in Jamie’s mind—a big word for
one or two students doing all the work, and the rest of the group reaping the
benefits.
Fancy school
or not, it was the most boring place in the alpha quadrant. Probably in the
other quadrants too. Probably in the entire Milky Way—
“Did you hear
me, Jamie?”
“Yes, sir.”
She swallowed her boredom. “Same as always, Grandfather.”
“And what
does same as always mean?”
“Well, I
almost fell asleep. Oh, wait. Something did happen today. We had another alert.”
She shivered, hoping Grandfather wouldn’t notice.
Jamie knew
what a red alert was. Battle stations. But this school’s alert focused on
strangers and missing children and—
Grandfather
looked grim. He and Grandmother exchanged worried glances. Jamie knew what that
meant. They were worried that their granddaughter might go missing.
Jamie was
worried too. The longer she attended, the more this exclusive school reminded
her of the two short weeks she’d spent on Babel with the kids on the Red Carpet
Tour. There had been security and lots of watching eyes. And now? There was a
lot of security and alerts here too.
A hard lump
settled in Jamie’s stomach when she realized she was no longer just the
“captain’s kid” accidentally along for the ride with the delegates’ important
children on Babel. Nope. She was part of that upper class herself, thanks to
Grandfather and Grandmother. And she didn’t like it much.
Grandfather
is very rich and very important,
Jamie mused every time Grandmother said no, she could not play outside alone. Do
they really think somebody would try to snatch me? What a dumb idea! Who cares,
except Daddy, if I get snatched or not?
But the GLO
terrorists on Babel had snatched those other rich, important kids. There might
be other bad people who would grab her and make Grandfather pay money to get
her back.
Like, Grandfather
would even want me back? Tears
pricked Jamie’s eyes. I just want to be a normal kid who happens to live on
a starship. I don’t like belonging to somebody important. It’s scary.
“Jamie!”
Jamie jerked
her attention back to the fancy dinner table. How she missed the friendly chaos
of the crew’s mess hall! “Yes, sir?”
“Tell me how
school went. What did you learn?”
“Nothing,
Grandfather.” Jamie never learned anything interesting at school. She missed
her tutoring lessons with Mr. Spock even more than she missed eating with the
crew.
Don’t cry,
Jamie ordered herself.
Don’t ever let them see you cry.
Jamie would
simply count the days until the court hearing and pray to God that He would let
her go home.
Chapter 11
Cadet’s [Secret] Log, Stardate unknown
I have figured out why Mommy married Daddy. I would have run fast to get away from these mean people too. Good for Daddy for rescuing Mommy from Grandfather and Grandmother! (If they ever listen to this log, I think I will get another spanking.)
The only
control Jamie had over her life was in her schoolwork. It was a tiny spark of
rebellion that she fanned into a nice, hot blaze. She’d handed them her report
card earlier in the day and then raced up the stairs to record her log before
they called her back. If the school didn’t care if she learned anything or not,
then why should she?
Mr. Spock
would be most displeased with this institute of learning, she mused with a giggle.
Later that
evening, Jamie discovered her plan had backfired on her. Her poor achievement
could be held against her in the worst way possible.
“I am
appalled, Jamie,” Grandfather announced after he’d called her to dinner. He
hadn’t jumped down her throat right away, so she figured she was safe. No such
luck.
Jamie looked
up, holding a forkful of cherry pie. Here it comes. She swallowed and
waited for the yelling. He’d yell; Grandmother would cry; Jamie would feel
sick. She never cried when Grandfather lost his temper, but she wanted to run
away and hide.
Daddy never
yelled and shrieked. No, Jamie knew she was in trouble when Daddy used his
starship captain’s voice. That’s so much better than yelling and acting
mean!
But instead
of yelling and bossing, Grandfather’s voice stayed calm for once. “Your recent grades
have revealed that you lack the academic ability to succeed. I do not
understand it. You must be bright enough. After all, your mother was a brilliant
scholar.”
He frowned
and conceded, “And they don’t allow idiots to command starships. So, all I can
assume is that your lack of formal education over the past two years has put
you far behind your peers. This is one more strike against your former living
conditions. You obviously have been allowed to run wild aboard ship, with no
thought given to your education. There are truancy laws, you know.”
Jamie went
white at this news. Was this another thing they could use to keep her away from
the ship? Her mouth dropped open and her fork clattered to her plate.
“G-grand-father,” she stammered. “It’s not like that. Really, it’s not. I know
all my lessons. Every boring detail. I . . . just don’t do the work.”
It was a
confession she knew would land her another spanking. But a paddling was better
than hearing her grandfather slam Mr. Spock’s and the other officers’ tutoring.
“I have a good education aboard the Enterprise. The very best. I can—”
“Oh, yes,”
Grandfather said scornfully, “You probably know how to arm photon torpedoes and
drop the ship out of warp space.”
Actually,
I do, Jamie thought.
But she didn’t say that out loud. “I know how to work advanced geometry and—”
“Enough!”
Grandfather brought his brows together. “We have been asked to bring you to the
school for further testing next week, to see if you need remedial classes.” His
voice grew louder. Grandmother began to sniffle. “Do you know what a
humiliation this is for us? Our granddaughter . . . in remedial
classes!” He was shouting now, and Jamie’s stomach jumped and twisted.
She wasn’t
sure what “remedial” meant, but it probably had to do with Ds and Fs. Bad
mistake, she decided. “Don’t worry, Grandfather,” Jamie tried to soothe
him. “I’ll get everything on the tests right. Just promise me that I can go—”
Jamie bit her lip to stop from finishing her request. If she continued, her
grandparents would find out what she was thinking. That not for one minute had
she adjusted. Not for one minute did she plan to stay with them any longer than
she had to.
Hurry up,
Daddy, she thought. That
lawyer better be good.
“No promises,
young lady,” Grandfather said. “Now, get up to your room and think about how
you have humiliated us.”
Jamie leaped
from her chair and raced around the corner. She wanted to get away from
Grandfather nearly as much as she wanted to get away from Grandmother’s tears.
Why didn’t Grandmother tell Grandfather to stop yelling? She started up the
stairs, then paused. Grandfather had lowered his voice and was talking to
Grandmother. What was he saying?
On tiptoes,
Jamie crept back to just outside the dining room doorway. Hopefully, none of
the servants would catch her eavesdropping.
“Anna,”
Grandfather was saying, “stop crying. You have to accept the fact that this
child is not Ruth. Nor will she ever be. Ruth was docile and compliant, sweet
as an angel. Soft-spoken and considerate until she met James Kirk.”
He let out a
loud breath and went on. “The child living with us now has been allowed to go
her own way too long. She is much too independent. Cocky and stubborn, just
like her—” He caught himself and cleared his throat before continuing.
Just
like my father, Jamie
filled in his unspoken words. She grinned. Then her grin faded at her
grandfather’s next words.
“We have only
two months before the court date, and even if our lawyer can secure an
extension, we can’t put off going up against Kirk forever,” he said. “We must
establish our authority and go into the courtroom with confidence. The outcome
is not cut and dried, especially if Kirk and his lawyer find out about . . .”
His voice trailed off.
Find out
about what? Jamie
strained to hear every word.
“Don’t even
think such a thing, Robert!” Grandmother begged. “It’s too horrifying to
imagine what would have happened if those reprobates had succeeded in their
plans. I’m so relieved the kidnapping plot was discovered in time. Who knows
what they would have demanded in ransom?”
“We must be
extra vigilant,” Grandfather said. “Jamie goes nowhere without someone we
trust. Otherwise, she’ll be no safer here than on that blasted starship we
rescued her from.”
“I won’t
allow her to go back, Robert. I’ve grown so fond of her. You must make sure the
judge knows that. Who will be presiding over the case?”
“Philip
Atkins. He’s a friend, but friends can only do so much. I’m sure he’ll do his
best to award permanent custody to us, but family law is always in flux.”
Jamie’s heart
beat harder than a hammer against the inside of her chest. Kidnapped? Ransom?
Friends with the judge? How fair was that? Choking back a sob, she raced
up the stairs and flew into her bed, pulling the covers over her head and
shrieking her anger and terror. She didn’t want to, but the tears she’d kept
inside for six long weeks burst out like floodwaters.
Twenty
minutes later, she threw the covers back and dried her tears. Then she reached
for her tri-corder log and started whispering into it.
Cadet’s [Secret] Log, Supplemental
“Any
Starfleet vessel, come in,” Jamie whispered two hours later into her
communicator. She’d been stranded long enough on this dreadful planet. It was
time to find a way off before it was too late.
“This is
science vessel Reliant. What frequency are—”
Jamie slammed
the cover closed, suddenly frightened. She didn’t dare let anyone maintain
contact long enough to lock on to her communicator signal. At first, the idea
of telling one of the captains she wanted to beam up seemed simple. Beam up,
tell the captain she wanted to see her dad, and of course they’d make it
happen.
Then reality
set in. Daddy had told her that any commander would be happy to relay a message
from her to the Enterprise. He never said they’d beam her up. If they
did that, then they would be the kidnappers.
Not a good
idea. And if she told one of the commanders everything that was going on,
probably they would tell Daddy, but they’d tell Starfleet too. And then her
grandparents would find out.
Not a good
idea at all! “Think it through logically, Cadet,” she ordered herself.
“What would Mr. Spock do? How would he escape this prison?”
Then it hit
her. It was clever. It was logical. Best of all, she knew how to make it work.
When she found the right ship (only a starship would work), she would put her
plan into action. The trick was figuring out when a starship would be in
orbit.
Unfortunately,
that meant calling random Starfleet frequencies every few days. Jamie felt
exhausted from waking up in the middle of the night to try her signal. It
didn’t help when she started coughing. Dirty-darn cold!
But
determination won over, and one night two weeks later, it paid off.
“This is the USS
Lexington. Are you in need of assistance?”
Jamie slammed
the communicator closed. The starship Lexington was a sister ship to the
Enterprise. Identical in every way. And here it was, in orbit around
Centaurus! But for how long? She didn’t have time to think it through any
longer. This was it. She was running away from this place, and she was doing it
tonight. She sneezed, shivered, then got to work.
She pulled
off her nightgown and threw on a T-shirt, a sweatshirt, and a pair of sweats.
Then she reached up on her dresser and snagged her tri-corder. Slipping on her
socks and shoes, she hurried to the window and slid it open. She glanced back
at the furry beige ball on her bed.
“Good-bye,
K-7,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave you, but I have to. I’m already
carrying too many things. Be good, and Daddy and I will come back for you.” She
gripped her communicator and squeezed through the narrow space between the
window and the sill.
Jamie knew
she had to go to the park, or the sports field, or another open place. She
couldn’t take the chance of the Lexington tracing her stray communicator
beam to her grandparents’ house.
She dropped
to the ground and took a few minutes to catch her breath. Then she looked up.
The Milky Way spread out above her like a band of white. She caught her breath.
Oh, how she missed the stars! But there was no time to sit around and drink in
their beauty tonight.
It took Jamie
nearly an hour to make her way on foot to the public park. She had to slip
behind bushes and fences whenever a vehicle skimmed by. She knew a child out by
herself would be stopped by the law enforcement, and she couldn’t let that
happen. Not if she wanted to escape this planet. If she was caught, she would
not get another chance.
Finally, the
Bartlett-Reiser Park came into view. It was a huge, grassy area, surrounded by
trees and ornamental plants. Jamie had played here many times during the past
few weeks, always under the supervision of her grandparents’ security guards. She
had watched the route carefully, so she would not forget the way. Crawling
behind the cover of a rhododendron, she crouched, took a deep breath, and
flipped the communicator open.
“This is it.”
A shiver went through her. It was late, and the night air was chilly. But she
would not give up now. The Enterprise didn’t maintain a twenty-four-hour
transporter watch, especially when orbiting a Federation planet. Half the Lexington
crew was probably on shore leave; the other half relaxing aboard ship. No
strict duty rosters. No high alerts. This was her best shot, and she was going
to take it.
“The worst
that can happen is getting sent back,” she convinced herself. “They’ll take
away my communicator, but so what? Grandfather will be furious, of course.” She
paused. “But no more so than usual.” Then she frowned. “Besides, anything’s
better than sitting around, going to that awful school, and worrying about some
crazy nutcase snatching me to ransom back to a bigwig like Grandfather.”
Jamie flipped
open the communicator’s lid, pushed the red emergency recall button, and closed
her eyes. The familiar-but-unpleasant tingly feeling flooded over her. When she
opened her eyes, she found herself standing on the transporter platform in the
transporter room. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn she was on
the Enterprise.
Everything
looked the same. The control panel was still whirling, the levers winding down
from automatically beaming Jamie up. The whining continued for a few seconds
then shut down. A hush fell over the room.
Jamie’s mouth
dropped open at the success of her audacious plan. She flicked her gaze across
the room. Just like she’d hoped, no transporter chief jumped up and grabbed her
to toss her into the brig. She’d done it!
Then over the
intercom, a crisp voice spoke. “Security, this is the first officer. There has
been an unauthorized beam-up from the planet. Go to Security alert Two. Report
back to me when you’ve secured Transporter Room One. Connor out.”
Commander Conner’s
orders hurled Jamie into action. She leaped from the transporter platform,
communicator in hand. She had to get rid of it, and fast. The communications’
officer had most likely already locked on to the signal, pinpointing
Transporter Room One as the source of the beam up. Even with most of the crew
off-duty, it wouldn’t take Security long to respond. Jamie figured she had two
minutes at the most to stash the communicator and duck into an air vent.
A disposal
chute was tucked into the bulkhead next to the door. Jamie opened it, tossed
the device in, and slammed it shut. “Go ahead and lock onto it now,” she
challenged. “Wander through the garbage chutes of the Lexington and see
what you find.”
She whirled
and headed for the air duct behind the transporter control panel. Hiking
herself up onto the panel, she straddled the controls, being careful not to
step on anything that would give away her position. Then she reached out,
tucked her fingers into the groove between the cover and the wall, and yanked.
It swung out easily.
Now the hard
part. She’d have to leap from the control panel to the small, rectangular hole
in the wall. If she missed, she’d tumble to the floor and be discovered in the
next minute. She had only one chance. One, two . . . three!
With a mighty
jump, Jamie shoved off and flung herself into the air duct. It was the same
size as the vent on the Enterprise, and just as easy to slide into. For
a moment, her feet dangled from the opening, but then she pulled them up,
turned around and slammed the vent cover behind her—just in time.
The doors to
the transporter room slid open. Two red shirts ran in, phasers drawn. They
stopped, obviously surprised, and looked at each other. “You sure this is where
the beam-up originated, Palmer?”
Palmer
holstered his weapon. “Pretty sure, Hall.” He crossed the room and punched the
intercom.
“Bridge,”
came the immediate response.
“Uh,
Commander Connor, sir, this is Palmer in the transporter room. Did
communications track this right? There’s no one here.”
There was a
pause. Then . . . “This is Connor. Lieutenant Meyers is still locked onto the
communicator signal. It is definitely coming from your location, or close by.”
Hall and
Palmer looked at each other. “I repeat,” Palmer said into the intercom,
“Transporter room is secure. There is no one here, unless he’s invisible.”
“Maybe one of
the crew is playing a joke,” Hall suggested to his fellow security guard.
“Could be Kowalski. You know what a warped mind he has during shore leave. A
transporter malfunction rigged to look like an intruder would be just his
speed. Engineers are nutty people.”
Suddenly, a
new voice came over the air. “This is Wesley. What’s going on down there?”
“Not sure,
sir,” Palmer confessed. “Meyers insists she’s tracking a loose communicator
down here. We don’t see communicators or anything else. The console is dead.
Repeat. No activity coming from the console.”
“Engineering,”
Commodore Wesley said, “get down to the transporter room and find out what’s
going on with our equipment.”
“This is
Copeland in Engineering. Chief’s planetside, sir. Hopkins and Bryce are off
duty. It’s just me and a skeleton crew down here tonight.”
“Fine. You
skeletons get to Transporter Room One and run a level-one diagnostic on the equipment.
I want to know why it shows that someone beamed up with an emergency recall.
And I want to know before breakfast. Got it?”
“Aye, aye,
Captain!” Copeland barked from Engineering.
Palmer
shrugged. “What do you want us to do, Captain?”
“Wait there
until engineering takes over. Just in case. Wesley out.”
Very soon,
the ships’ technicians would be swarming all over the console. Jamie knew what
they would find. They would easily prove that the transporter had indeed been
in operation a few minutes ago, that someone’s molecules had been scattered and
reformed. That information was stored in the console. There would be no doubt
that someone had beamed aboard.
A few minutes
after reporting this news to their captain, an intruder alert would be sounded.
Jamie did not want to be anywhere near the transporter room when that happened.
No, it was time to get far, far away from Transporter Room One.
Good thing
Jamie knew the ship.
Chapter 12
Captain James Kirk chewed on his thumbnail and stared, unseeing, at the view screen. It had been a long nine weeks. He had hoped the Enterprise’s assignments would fill the time, but he found himself too often lost in thought, when he should be concentrating on the business at hand.
Worse, his
crew was . . . well . . . moping. There was no other word for it, and he
didn’t understand it. How could one little girl have such an effect on his crew
of over four hundred? He hadn’t thought much about Jamie before she’d come
aboard two years ago. She was safe on the farm in Iowa, being raised by his
mother. A few times a year they exchanged sub-light messages. He’d kept a 2-D
likeness in his cabin, but life moved fast aboard a starship. Kirk knew he’d
see her again, once his five-year mission was over, but until then, there
wasn’t much he could do about it, and it didn’t bother him—much.
But now? He
missed her. McCoy missed her. And yes, although he’d never admit it, Spock
missed Jamie too. Why, just last week . . .
“Spock, what
are you doing hanging around the bridge? It’s not your duty shift,” Kirk asked.
“This is the time
I usually spend with Jamie in her tutorial, but since she is”—he
paused—“unavailable, I decided to spend the extra time at my science station.”
Kirk had gone
silent. The pause in his first officer’s sentence had spoken volumes. Finally,
he said, “Enjoy it while you can, Spock. When our little cadet returns, you’ll
be inundated with hundreds of illogical questions and ‘why’s,’ enough to drive
you berserk.”
Spock had
straightened from his scanner, turned his most stoic look on his captain, and
stated, “I look forward to it, sir.” Then he had returned to his station and
said no more, leaving the entire bridge crew gaping.
It was no
secret that Cadet Jamie Kirk was as much a member of the Enterprise crew
as any officer or enlisted crewmember. After two years of her living aboard
ship, no one doubted the future of Starfleet included incorporating families
into the vessels. It could work. It had worked.
Those wily
admirals in Starfleet Command could have booted Jamie off the ship within weeks
of her unexpected arrival two years ago. But they had—somehow—never bothered to
cut through the red tape long enough to make a serious attempt to push Captain
Kirk into complying to Starfleet regulations involving civilians aboard the Enterprise.
Now he knew
why. His ship was the flagship, the example, in more ways than one, so it
seemed. In spite of the scary moments involving Klingons, Romulans, and hostile
aliens, Kirk and his crew had proved that including families and children did
not necessarily mean less effectiveness during battle situations. Perhaps this
was why Admiral Komack promised to support James Kirk in his efforts to get his
daughter back.
And now? Only
three weeks left until that court date. Sam Cogley had been working hard to
present a good case to give Jamie back to Kirk.
“Captain,”
Uhura’s voice broke into Kirk’s musing. “I have a message from Starfleet
Command.” She paused. “A personal one, sir.”
Kirk’s
eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Let’s have it.”
The screen
flickered and came to life. Admiral Komack looked grim. “Captain, I’ve got bad
news for you.”
Kirk gripped
the edges of his armrests. “Not about Jamie?”
Komack
nodded. “I’m afraid so. She’s missing.”
“She’s what?”
He was livid. “How the devil did the Winters allow something like that to
happen?”
“We don’t
know. The Winters are accusing you of spiriting her away.”
Kirk’s jaw
dropped. “That’s preposterous. We’ve been on patrol the past nine weeks, and
nowhere near Centaurus.”
Komack was
nodding. “I know, Jim. And that’s what scares me. We know she’s not with
you. So, where is she?”
“Ask the
Winters.” The accusation sprang to his lips without thought.
“They’re not
talking except through their lawyer. But from what I can guess, they believe
she might have been—”
“Kidnapped,”
Kirk breathed.
Komack let
out a deep breath. “Bottom line: yes. Starfleet managed to learn—and it wasn’t
easy—some rumors that a foiled kidnapping attempt had been attempted last
month. It’s possible another succeeded. There’s been a rash of these
ransom-like snatchings popping up all over the Core.”
Kirk was
stunned. Safe on Centaurus, away from my dangerous starship? What a
joke!
“If it is
true,” Komack continued, “then the good news is that all of the victims of
ransom-based kidnappings have been returned safely, within a matter of days.”
He paused.
The look on
the admiral’s face made Kirk’s stomach lurch. “That’s good news?” He
shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “How many hours has it been, and what is the
ransom?”
Komack
cleared his throat. “Not hours, Jim. Or days. It’s been over a week, and no
word of any kind of ransom.”
“A week!”
Kirk exploded. “Why wasn’t I notified earlier?”
“We just
learned about it yesterday. The Winters have kept a low profile, but news of
this nature can’t be kept quiet for long. The long and short of it is . . .
they found the window to Jamie’s room pried open. They suspect someone took her
right from her bed.” Komack’s face was pale with concern. “I’m sorry, Jim.
She’s disappeared without a trace.”
Jamie yawned
and tried to get comfortable. Then she sneezed. After almost a week of hiding
out in the Lexington’s ventilation shafts, she was cold, hungry, and stiff.
Oh, and bored. She whispered into her tri-corder log but was afraid of
the power draining if she watched a video. There was no way to recharge the
device in an air vent.
During each
gamma shift, which translated as 0200 and the middle of the night, Jamie
cautiously sneaked out of her hiding place and snitched food from the
recreation deck. Without a diet card, getting the replicator to give her food
was almost impossible. But the second night of her adventure, she’d found a
misplaced card, and she’d made use of it ever since. Unfortunately, the owner
of the card appeared to be a vegetarian, and Jamie was thoroughly tired of
vegetables, fruits, and exotic baked goods. She wanted a hamburger, or even a
hot dog.
Her mouth
watered at the thought of an ice cream sundae as she tried to get comfortable
in the drafty ventilation shafts. Along with the unsuspecting crewmember’s
pilfered card, she’d managed to steal a pillow and blanket from a VIP quarters.
But she wasn’t comfortable. Her annoying cold had taken a turn for the worse.
For the past three days she’d stopped feeling chilled. Instead, she felt achy
and hot. And so very, very tired.
Cadet’s Log, Unknown:
“I want to go
home,” she whispered, slamming the lid to the tri-corder shut. “I’m tired of
sleeping in an air duct. I’m sick of having to be quiet all the time. And I
want Daddy.” Two hot tears squeezed from her eyes. Her crazy plan had worked.
Oh yes, it had worked, but somehow it had backfired. She was stuck, but good.
It was
amazing she’d gone undetected so far, but she knew if she was discovered, she’d
be sent back to her grandparents. So, she’d lain low and kept quiet. She would just
have to suffer and stay hidden until her father and Sam Cogley straightened the
whole custody thing out. “I sure hope it’s soon.” She drew the blanket around
her shoulders. But she couldn’t sleep.
Two hours
later, Jamie still wasn’t asleep. Her legs ached. Her back ached. She was shivering.
And she hurt all over. She couldn’t stay in this hard airshaft one more night.
She peered
through the air vent into the VIP quarters. Not one person had entered these
quarters since Jamie had arrived. Perhaps it would be safe to sneak out of the
ducts and curl up on a real bed, just until she stopped hurting.
She left her
blanket and tri-corder behind, opened the grate, and slipped into the VIP
quarters. Within minutes, she was curled up under the soft blankets and sound
asleep.
Lt. Peters
opened the door to the VIP quarters and motioned the ambassador from Gypsum and
his young wife to precede him. “Right through here, sir, ma’am. These are the
best quarters the Lexington has to offer. Your own replicator, sonic
shower, the works.”
Ambassador
Rubris nodded. “Thank you, young man. I’m sure we will be quite comfortable.”
He turned to his wife. “Won’t we, my dear?”
“Oh, yes.”
She yawned. “But it has been a long day and a longer trip. I am very tired. So,
if you’ll excuse me?”
Lt. Peters turned
to go. Just as he left the quarters, he heard a shriek. He raced back into the
room. “Sir!” he called.
Ambassador
Rubris met him, along with this shaking wife. “I am sorry, Lieutenant. But I’m
afraid you must find different accommodations for us. This room appears to be
occupied.”
Peters
followed the Lexington’s guests into the sleeping portion of the VIP
quarters and stopped short. Sprawled across the bed in a deep sleep lay a
little girl. Her golden hair was streaked with dirt, and her face was pale.
Dark circles stood out under her closed eyes. Her breath came in short, shallow
gasps. She wore a pair of filthy sweatpants and an undershirt.
“What in the
world?” Peters strode over to the bed and shook her. “Wake up, little girl.
What are you doing here? Wake up.”
There was no
response.
Gently, the
ambassador’s wife laid her hand against Jamie’s forehead. Then she jerked her
hand back. “This child is burning up. She must be treated at once. Call your
medical officer, young man.”
When the
ambassador nodded his agreement, Lt. Peters figured he had little choice. He
hailed sickbay and got Dr. Gwen Wesley right away.
“What’s up,
Lieutenant?” her familiar, spunky voice echoed. “I’m off duty in”—a pause—“four
minutes and thirty-nine seconds. The captain and I have a quiet evening
planned. No interruptions.”
“I’m sorry,
Doctor. Your quiet, family-night plans have just changed.”
“Oh?” Peters
could almost see the doctor’s eyebrows rise. “How so?”
“Ask the
skipper to join you. I think we found his stowaway.”
“That’s what
Peters said, Bob,” Gwen insisted. She grabbed her medical scanner and headed
out the door.
Her husband
followed with a grunt. “Great. What timing.”
“Listen here,
Commodore Robert Wesley. You’ve been after security all week, giving them
what-for about that transporter ‘malfunction’ and on their case about coming up
dry in the intruder department. Now, they find the stowaway, and you want to
ignore it because it’s our night out? Sloppy, Captain. Very sloppy.”
“Don’t get
uppity with me, Doctor.” Wesley brushed a stray strand of hair from his
forehead. “I do not suffer insubordination gladly.”
“Sure, you
don’t.” Gwen chuckled and entered the ’lift. The commodore followed with a
grin. They were both smiling when they entered the VIP quarters.
“This way,
sir, Doc,” Peters said, leading his captain into the bedroom. When they saw the
young stowaway sprawled across the bed, Gwen rushed forward, unfastening her
bio-med scanner. She swiped the scanner over the still form. It whirled and
beeped. “I don’t like it, Bob.” She shook her head. “This little girl is very ill.”
“Anything
contagious? Rigelian Fever?” Wesley joined his wife and looked down. “Could she
have brought something aboard?”
“Perhaps. It
looks like she might have some kind of pneumonia, but who knows how she got it,
or from where. I’ll need to run a few tests down in sickbay to determine my
course of action. It would help if I knew where she came from and what in the
world prompted her to stow away aboard the Lexington.”
“What about
the crew? Could she infect them?”
Gwen shook
her head. “I doubt it. But I’ll order standard procedure and isolate her until
I make my preliminary report.” She rose and indicated to Peters. “Bring her to
Sickbay for me, will you, Lieutenant?” Then she turned to her husband. “I’ll
let you know as soon as I find out something.”
“Fine.” The
commodore frowned. “I don’t like the idea of a young child stowing away on my
ship and eluding my crew for over a week. Find some answers, Gwen, and don’t be
all night about it.”
It was the
kind, soft voice that brought Jamie to consciousness. She opened her eyes and
found herself looking into the face of a smiling woman with short, curly black
hair and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Well, hello
there, young lady. I’m glad to see you’re with us at last.” She reached out and
took Jamie’s hand in her own. “You’ve had us all worried the past few days.”
Jamie blinked
but said nothing. Am I still on board the Lexington? She focused
her eyes on the woman’s clothing and breathed a sigh of relief at the blue
tunic with the Lexington insignia.
“I’m Doctor
Gwen Wesley,” the woman introduced herself. “You may call me Dr. Gwen. Everyone
aboard does.”
Jamie didn’t
answer. She stared at the doctor, too frightened to speak. What did the doctor
know?
“Do you
understand Federation English?”
Jamie nodded.
“That’s a
relief.” Gwen pulled out a chair near the bed and sat down. She laid a cool,
white hand on Jamie’s forehead. “You’ve been very sick. It’s a good thing you
decided to come out of hiding, or it might have been too late to help you get
better.”
She smiled at
Jamie’s look of terror. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. The captain is my husband, and
I told him in no uncertain terms that he mustn’t scold you, at least not until
you’re completely well. Now, can you tell me where you’ve been hiding all week?”
Jamie
swallowed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. I must not tell anyone.
They’ll send me back. I can’t go back!
“Don’t play
ignorant with me, young lady. Everyone knows you’re the stowaway the Lexington
had the misfortune to beam up. But nobody can figure out how you did it. We
were orbiting Centaurus, and the next thing we knew, the transporter beamed
someone up. I think you know the rest. None of the security searches uncovered
your hiding place.” She smiled. “That’s pretty clever of you.”
Then her
smile faded. “You must know you are in a lot of trouble for doing what you did.
Under normal circumstances, you would be in the brig.”
Jamie nodded.
She knew that.
“So, tell me
your name and where you’re from. And why you stowed away aboard the Lexington.
Your folks must be half out of their minds with worry . . .” Her voice trailed
away. “Unless you’re an orphan?”
Jamie said
nothing. Let her believe that if she wants.
“You have to
tell me what I want to know, honey. You can’t keep it a secret forever. I can
always do an antigen scan. It may take a little longer, but I can discover who
you are. I would prefer you told me. It would be better for you, better for me,
better for everyone.”
“Why?” Jamie
croaked. Her voice sounded funny.
Gwen smiled.
“When I access the databanks of the Federation, more people than I will learn
about it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If you’ve been mistreated and are
trying to hide from a cruel situation, it would be better to keep your identity
a Lexington secret, at least until the captain decides what to do about
you. Do you know what I mean?”
Jamie
understood about starship secrets. Dr. Gwen appeared interested in helping her.
But she couldn’t take the risk. “I can’t tell you. They’ll make you send me
back.”
Gwen frowned.
“Who will? Send you back? Back to where?”
Jamie shook
her head. “Please, Dr. Gwen. Let me stay here. Don’t make me tell you my name.
Don’t find out who I am. I . . . I won’t go back. I won’t.” She clamped her jaw
tight, but her hands shook.
“Listen,” the
doctor tried again, “I promise I’ll do what I can to help you. I’ll speak to
the captain for you. But you’ve got to tell me something. How about
telling me how you got aboard the ship?”
Jamie’s heart
pounded. I can’t tell her.
Then logic
took over. The doctor would find out, even if she had to use the antigen scan.
Maybe it was better to tell her. Maybe the doctor could be trusted. “I used a
communicator,” she finally whispered, eyes downcast. “I waited until a starship
was in orbit, then I pressed the emergency recall button. I beamed up, tossed
the communicator into the trash receptacle, and hid out in the air ducts.”
Gwen’s green
eyes grew wide with surprise. “You speak as if you know all about communicators
and starship transporter rooms. How can this be?”
Jamie
shrugged and clammed up. I’ve said too much already.
“Well, you
didn’t pick up a Starfleet communicator from a shopping mall. The black market
maybe, but I don’t think you got it that way either. Tell me how you managed to
get hold of a Starfleet communicator. Please?”
Jamie raised
her head and looked at the kind woman. “Daddy gave it to me, so I wouldn’t be
so lonely.”
Gwen shook
her head, puzzled. “Who’s your dad, honey?”
Jamie didn’t
answer. Tears filled her eyes.
“You can
trust me,” Gwen urged. I won’t tell another soul, only the captain.”
Only the
captain? Jamie thought.
Great. That’s the one person I don’t want knowing. She drew a deep
breath. “Promise I can stay aboard for another couple of weeks.”
“I don’t have
the authority to make that promise. But the captain does. He’s a good man. A
fair man. He’s a starship captain, and if he says you can stay, you can trust
him in that. Now, please. Just tell me your name.”
Jamie
sniffed. Dr. Gwen sounded just like Dr. McCoy. What is it with doctors, anyway? They can make you tell them anything.
“Jamie,” she finally said. And that’s all I’m going to tell you!
It was more
than enough.
Gwen
whistled. “Jamie? As in . . . Jamie Kirk? From the Enterprise?”
Jamie’s mouth
dropped open. Slime devils! How did she guess?
A delighted
grin replaced the doctor’s concerned look. “Don’t look so surprised, Jamie.
There’s not much that goes on in Starfleet that everybody doesn’t know about.
How many Jamie’s do you suppose there are who have their own communicator?”
She chuckled
softly. “Lucky Enterprise captain and crew. I wish my kids weren’t grown
and gone. I would have loved to have them along. I envy your dad, how he’s been
able to make it work having you aboard.” She smiled. “It explains the
communicator and how you could remain hidden aboard the Lexington
for so long. All starships are laid out pretty much the same, aren’t
they?”
Jamie didn’t
answer the doctor’s question. “Please don’t tell anybody,” she whispered. She
brushed away her tears and gave Gwen a pleading look.
The doctor
pulled Jamie into a warm embrace. It didn’t feel as good as being held by
Daddy, but Dr. Gwen was a good substitute for now. “Tell me all about it, Jamie
Kirk. I’m a good listener.” Her eyes held the promise of silence. “No one else
need ever know, except the captain.”
Jamie blinked
back the rest of her tears, swallowed, and told Gwen the whole story.
Chapter 13
“For heaven’s
sake, Bob, why not?” Gwen paced her husband’s office, irritated. She came to a
halt and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t you understand that this
little girl is worried sick about being returned to those . . . those . . .”
She held her
tongue to keep from badmouthing the Winters. She knew enough about Winter and
his lofty, political goals to write a book. To think the Winters were Jim
Kirk’s in-laws was the best-kept secret in the galaxy.
“You don’t
have to tell me. I know their type. But if word leaks out that we’re harboring
a runaway, especially this runaway . . .” His voice trailed off in a
frustrated sigh. “Starfleet will have my commission. And think about Jim. Imagine
how worried he must be. His daughter has disappeared, and he has no idea where
she is. I checked the updates. Jamie Kirk has been listed as a kidnap victim
for over a week! No ransom demand; no clues. Jim must be frantic. I have to
tell him she’s aboard my ship, safe and sound.”
“You do that,
Bob. Tell Jim. Tell Komack and Nogura. Tell everybody. The courts will
rip her away and send her back to the Winters. She won’t see her father or the Enterprise.
The chance she took to get away will be for nothing. Jamie won’t have a
communicator or any other symbol of hope. What’s more . . . those rich and
powerful—not to mention spiteful—grandparents will be on to her. They won’t let
her out of their sight.”
Gwen stopped
pacing. “We can do this quietly. We can contact Jim, and Starfleet need never
know.”
Wesley gave
his wife a look of astonishment. “When it comes out, heads will roll, Gwen.
Yours, mine, Jim’s. Keeping the girl here doesn’t—”
“Her name is
Jamie,” Gwen cut in. “Jamie Kirk. A fellow officer’s hurting and frightened
child. Now, I want you to go down to my sickbay and assure that little girl
that we are on her side, that we won’t turn her in, and that we will try to let
her father know she’s okay.”
Wesley
sighed. “It’s days like these when I wonder who’s running this ship, the
captain or the doctor.”
“When it
comes to my patients, I can get rather testy, true enough. I don’t care much
about what the brass sitting behind their desks on the top floor of Starfleet
Command think when it comes to handing down orders that adversely affect one of
my patients, especially if the patient is only nine years old.”
“Are all
doctors as stubborn and bossy as you, my dear?”
“I hear Len
McCoy on Enterprise can probably match me.”
The commodore
chuckled. “But at least he’s not married to the captain.” He stood and draped
an arm around his wife. “All right, Gwen. We’ll do it your way for now. I’d
rather meet a Romulan bird-of-prey out on the frontier than be around when this
all hits the fan, but I’ll go along with it for a while and see what happens.
Now, why don’t you give me a proper introduction to your patient?”
Jamie glanced
up when the captain of the Lexington entered sickbay and stood by her
diagnostic bed.
“So, we have
a bit of a problem, don’t we, Jamie Kirk?”
“Yes, sir.”
She regarded the older man with steady, pleading eyes. “I’m sorry to be so much
trouble, Commodore Wesley. Are you going to make me leave your ship?”
Wesley’s
eyebrows shot up. “You cut right to the chase, don’t you?” He shook his head.
“Not today, anyway. And we’ll wait and see what tomorrow brings.” He nodded at
Gwen. “You may thank the good doctor for that. She gets pretty protective of
her patients.”
Gwen smiled.
“I will certainly not allow you leave this ship until you are completely back
to health. And that might take a while.”
Jamie
frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re very
sick. I’ve officially put you under quarantine for the next three weeks, until
I determine if your illness poses a threat to the safety of the Lexington’s crew.”
She picked up her recorder. “I intend to log it so.”
Wesley shook
his head. “I hope you get away with this, Gwen, or we all may be setting
ourselves up for court martial.”
He shrugged.
“I bow to the diagnosis of my chief medical officer.” Then he turned to go.
“I’m on my way to notify the Enterprise. What name are you giving this
disease that afflicts our young stowaway? And it better be something good, or
McCoy will figure out your bluff in a hurry.”
“Give me a
few minutes,” Gwen said with a secret smile. “I’ll consult my medical records
and let you know.”
“Captain,”
Uhura’s quiet voice brought Kirk out from another spell of daydreaming.
“Message from the Lexington. Commodore Wesley requests to speak to you
and Dr. McCoy in private.”
Kirk’s
eyebrows went up. He whirled his chair around and frowned. “What is the nature
of the message?”
“Unknown,
Captain.”
“All right,
Uhura. Pipe it down to the good doctor’s office. Tell him I’m on my way.”
When Kirk
entered sickbay, McCoy was pacing. “I heard there’s a message for us from the Lexington.
I sure hope it’s not some kind of medical emergency. We’re light years from
nowhere right now.”
Kirk shook
his head and punched the intercom on the doctor’s desk. “Pipe down the message,
Lieutenant,” he ordered.
The serious,
craggy face of Commodore Bob Wesley filled the screen. He wasn’t smiling. “I
have some good news and some bad news for you, Jim. First, the good news. Apparently,
your daughter stowed away aboard my ship a little over a week ago.”
“She what?”
Kirk burst out. His heart leaped. Jamie’s not kidnapped. She’s safe aboard
the Lexington! “How did she do that? And why am I only
hearing about it now?”
Wesley held
up his hand. “Long story. She can tell you about it some time. That’s the good
news, Jim. The only good news, I’m afraid.” Before Kirk could collect
his wits, the commodore continued. “She’s ill. My CMO has her under strict
quarantine. Actually, we almost lost her. She’d been sick for some time, hiding
out in the air ducts. So, I’m sorry to say, there is no way Dr. Wesley will
allow the child to leave the ship. You won’t be able to get her back for
another couple of weeks, at least.” Wesley sighed. “Just in time for your
hearing, I suspect.”
Kirk
deflated. This is a nightmare! “Can I talk to her? See her?”
“What’s wrong
with her?” McCoy barked. “Let me talk to Gwen.”
“I’m sorry,
Dr. McCoy. That’s not possible right now. But be assured that we are informing
the authorities about Jamie being found, so her grandparents don’t worry.
However, it might interest you to know that no one, not Starfleet or the CPO or
the Federation Council itself, will be able to pry that sick child away from my
wife.”
He smiled.
“Do you get my meaning?”
McCoy caught
on before his captain. “Yes, Commodore. I understand completely and agree with
your recommendation.”
“Well, I
don’t,” Kirk snapped. “What’s wrong with my daughter, Bob?”
“Gwen will
send the medical report to you. Until then, Lexington out.”
Kirk turned
to McCoy. “What was that all about?”
McCoy broke
into a wide smile. “That, Jim, was Bob Wesley saving you and Jamie a lot
of grief. I don’t think she’s as sick as they say, and I think she’ll be more
than happy to spend the next few weeks before the hearing in the company of the
Lexington crew.”
Kirk grinned.
Then, just as quickly, he sobered. “What happened on Centaurus that Jamie would
sneak out, run away, and take such a chance on finding a ship to stowaway
aboard?” He clenched a fist. “Something must have gone very wrong. Jamie knew
she only had to count the days until the hearing. What frightened her into
running away?”
“I doubt the
Winters will be forthcoming in their explanation,” McCoy said. He clapped his
captain on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jim. When Gwen contacts me, I’ll use all
my southern charm to drag it out of her. Until then?” He opened his cabinet and
pulled out a flask of Saurian brandy. “I think we could both use a drink.”
Later that
day, and sentence by sentence, Leonard McCoy dragged the story out of Gwen. He
learned the name of the disease Jamie was suffering from, as well. “It’s a good
thing she picked an illness for which there is a specific treatment, yet the
effects linger for a full two weeks after treatment starts,” he told Kirk.
“Clever woman, Jim. Be glad she’s on our side.”
“What does
Jamie really have?” Kirk crossed his arms and waited for McCoy to get on
with it. His nerves were shot with worry.
“Pneumonia
brought on by something Gwen can’t identify. Something she must have picked up
on Centaurus that stayed hidden until all the stress of the past few weeks made
it flare up into something serious. I hear Jamie’s bouncing off the walls now,
eager to be released from sickbay and come home.”
McCoy dropped
his stylus. “Gwen wants to keep her aboard; otherwise, it’s back to Centaurus.
She suspects that Jamie hasn’t told her everything, but it’s enough to turn the
Lexington’s CMO into a mother bear protecting her cub. Or in this case, a
fellow officer’s cub.”
He grinned.
“And I’ve got a surprise for you, Jim. Gwen says you can talk to Jamie via
subspace.”
Five minutes
later, the small screen in McCoy’s office lit up with Jamie’s pale face. Her
hazel eyes looked twice their usual size. It looked like she’d lost weight too.
“Hi, honey,” Kirk said, putting on his best smile.
“Hi, Daddy,”
she replied shyly. Her voice sounded subdued, frightened. She looked away, as
if she were afraid to say anything more.
What have
the Winters done to my child? he
wanted to shout.
“Hey, Cadet,”
he said with forced cheerfulness, “You had me worried. I heard rumors that you
were kidnapped. I’m glad to see those rumors are not true. Glad to see you’re
safe aboard the second-best ship in the fleet.”
He was
rewarded with a giggle. Jamie leaned closer to the pick-up and whispered,
“Don’t let Commodore Wesley hear that. He thinks the Lexington is the best
ship in the fleet.”
Kirk leaned
forward too. “I know,” he whispered back. “We’ll keep that a secret.” He wanted
to ask her questions; find out what her grandparents had done to turn her into
a mere shadow of her usual self. But he kept things light and positive. He’d
have her home soon enough. But for how long? What if the hearing goes badly
and they give Jamie back to the Winters?
“Dr. Gwen
says I can be with you again in a couple of weeks,” Jamie was saying. Two spots
of red colored her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she continued. “She’s the
nicest lady doctor in all of Starfleet. She says I don’t have to go back to
Grandfather and Grandmother’s. She says I’m too sick.” She frowned. “Even
though I feel fine.”
“Listen,
Cadet,” Kirk said. “It appears you’ve been assigned temporary duty aboard the Lexington.
Obey Commodore Wesley. Stay off the bridge unless invited, stay out of the
crew’s way, and mind your manners.”
“Aye, sir,”
Jamie replied. Then she grinned. “But Dr. Gwen says I can have the run of the
ship for the next few weeks and—”
“And I
say you’d better not take her up on that offer. You keep a low profile over
there, Cadet Jamie Kirk, or you’ll find yourself on report when you get back.”
But the captain was smiling. Jamie’s face had lost the pale, lost look, and had
been replaced with a bit of spunk. “See you soon,” he said softly. “Love you.”
“Love you
too, Captain-Daddy-Sir,” she quipped. “Dr. Gwen wants to talk to you, so I have
to say good-bye.” She blew him a kiss and scampered out of sight.
Chapter 14
Instead of
keeping a low profile, every crew member aboard the starship vied to spend time
with her. The navigator, Lieutenant Skyler, let Jamie sit in his lap and showed
her how to lay in a course for the next star system. In return, Jamie showed
him what Ensign Chekov had taught her about navigating in warp space.
“Nice job,
Cadet Kirk,” Skylar said. “Chekov’s a good teacher.”
When
Commodore Wesley showed up unexpectedly on his bridge, Jamie ducked for cover.
But Wesley spied out her hiding place. “What’s the problem, Cadet?” he asked.
“This is a routine mission. There’s no reason you can’t stand watch on my
bridge, so long as you do your job.”
Jamie’s eyes
opened wide. “What’s my job, sir?”
“Fetching and
carrying,” Wesley said. He looked around. “I can’t seem to find my yeoman, so
right now I want you to fetch me a cup of coffee from the galley and
carry it all the way up here without spilling one drop.”
“Yes, sir!”
Jamie darted to the turbo-lift and grasped the handle. “Deck seven.” Be
careful, Cadet, she warned herself, or the Lexington may become
the best ship in the fleet very soon.
Daddy never
let her hang out on the bridge during routine watches. Nope, it was always, “Is
your schoolwork finished?” or “I’ll see you at supper,” or “Go play in the
gym,” or—
Yep, the USS
Lexington was rising fast in Jamie’s book of favorite ships.
The doors
whooshed open to the galley, and Jamie quickly completed her mission, including
the lid to keep the coffee from spilling overboard on the trip back to the
bridge.
A cheerful,
familiar voice hailed her just as she was entering the ’lift.
“Jamie,” Dr.
Gwen said, “Hold the lift a moment.” She hurried in, and the doors whooshed
shut. “What have you got there?”
“Commodore
Wesley’s coffee,” Jamie replied. “I’m an acting yeoman now, at least while I’m
staying aboard.”
Gwen’s
eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really! How do you know what an acting yeoman—”
“Yeoman Rand
always brings Daddy’s coffee to the bridge, so I figured since I’m bringing
coffee, I must be a yeoman now, which”—she giggled and tried not to spill her
precious load—“is a step up from cadet.”
“And requires
a uniform,” Gwen put in. She shook her head at Jamie’s shabby attire—her gray
sweats and blue t-shirt with Six Flags Over Babel emblazoned across the front.
“You’ve worn those clothes since we found you, they look it.”
Jamie was
worried that the captain’s coffee might get cold, but she made a stop at
sickbay when the good doctor insisted. Gwen zapped the coffee super-hot while
they waited for the replicator to spit out a tunic and leggings. It was a gold
shirt—Jamie’s favorite color—but her face fell when Gwen held it up.
“What’s the
matter?” the doctor asked, frowning her concern.
Jamie bit her
lip. She’d couldn’t wear a Lexington uniform How disloyal was that? Instead
of the Enterprise insignia, a shiny starburst stared at her from the insignia
badge. “Well, I, uh . . . What will Daddy say when he sees it? He’ll think I’ve
gone over and like the Lexington best. And even if Daddy doesn’t say
anything, well, Sulu and Chekov will never, ever let me forget it if I
wear a tunic from the Lexington. They’ll tease me forever.”
Gwen tried to
hide a smile, but a chuckle escaped.
This is
serious! Jamie insisted
silently.
“I’m sure it
will be fine,” Gwen assured her. “All I know is that if you are going to be a
yeoman aboard this ship, you must be in uniform.”
Jamie
pondered the statement for a minute and found the doctor’s logic flawless.
Commodore Wesley was waiting for his coffee, so Jamie quickly made the only
decision possible under the circumstances. She peeled off her sweats and t-shirt,
threw the gold tunic over her head, and pulled on the leggings. Then she
snatched the cup of coffee from the doctor’s hands and scurried out the door.
“Much better,
Yeoman Kirk!” Gwen called after her then tossed the discarded sweats and shirt
into the recycler.
Jamie never
missed them.
“I don’t have
to go to that court hearing by myself, do I?” Jamie asked Commodore Wesley
right after the Lexington established orbit around Centaurus.
She was
sitting in the helmsman’s seat, keeping it warm for Lieutenant Madison, and
swiveled the chair around to talk to the captain.
“Come again?”
Wesley mumbled. He signed the fuel consumption report and handed it back to the
ensign before giving his youngest crewmember his full attention.
Jamie
repeated her question then added, “I mean, will you or Dr. Gwen beam down with
me? I don’t want the Prune Lady to see me by myself. She’ll take over, and I
don’t want to sit with her.” She gave the commodore a winning smile. “I’d much
rather sit with you or the doctor.”
“I’ll see
what I can do,” Wesley assured her.
“When can I
talk to my dad? Or beam over? The Enterprise is in orbit too. Lt. Skyler
told me so.”
Wesley
scratched his chin and let out a thoughtful sigh. Jamie wasn’t sure what that
sigh meant, but it probably meant he was getting ready to tell her she couldn’t
talk to or even see her father yet. Not until the hearing.
Except for
that one subspace call over two weeks ago, when Captain Kirk had “assigned”
Jamie to the Lexington and warned her to keep a low profile aboard the
commodore’s ship, she hadn’t talked to him at all. Dr. Gwen had suggested it
would be best to keep up the charade—whatever a charade was—until the
last possible moment.
Like a good Lexington
crew member, Jamie had said, “Aye, sir,” and kept her mouth shut. It was good enough
to be aboard a starship and away from her grandparents, who were probably
madder than a couple of Duress Slashbacks at learning their granddaughter had
not been kidnapped after all, but had run away from them.
Just then,
the communication’s officer announced, “The captain of the Enterprise
wishes to exchange courtesies with you, sir.”
Wesley looked
relieved not to have to answer Jamie’s question. “On screen,” he ordered, then
sat back in his chair and relaxed. He seemed to forget that an almost
ten-year-old was sitting at his ship’s helm station.
Lt. Madison
didn’t forget. He slid Jamie out of the way and fell back into place just as
the image of James Kirk came on screen. Jamie chose to take her dad’s “keep a
low profile” order seriously and ducked out of sight.
“Welcome to
Centaurus, Bob,” Kirk said. “I wanted to thank you for taking care of Jamie
these past couple of weeks. Tell her I miss her and hope to see her soon—”
Wesley cut
him off with a wave of his hand. “Tell her yourself, Jim.” He motioned Jamie to
her feet.
Jamie jumped
up. “Hi, Daddy!” She was so glad to see him that she didn’t care if he saw her traitorous
Lexington tunic or the fact that she was hanging around on the bridge of
the starship.
“Did you know
I’m a yeoman now? Well, at least an acting yeoman. That’s why I’m on the
bridge, even though you told me to stay off it. The captain’s yeoman has to
stay nearby, on account of the captain might need the yeoman to bring him
coffee. And could you maybe promote me when I get back to the Enterprise?
I could be your yeoman. Cuz then I could bring your coffee up to the brid—”
“Belay your
chatter,” Kirk ordered gruffly. But he smiled at her then turned back to the
commodore. “The judge granted permission for someone from the Lexington to
accompany Jamie to the hearing, since she has been in your custody the past few
weeks. I’d appreciate it if you’d consider beaming down with her until this
whole, unpleasant mess is straightened out.”
“Glad to do
it, Jim. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how I would keep Gwen away from the hearing if
the judge ordered someone from the CPO to bring Jamie instead.” His smile
turned to a puzzled frown. “Come to think of it, my CMO has been acting mighty
peculiar this past week. When I asked her what’s going on, she gave me a
cat-that-swallowed-the-canary look and told me to go run my ship and leave her
alone.”
“Thanks,
Bob,” Kirk said in obvious relief. “The hearing is set for 1400 hours this
afternoon. I’ll send the coordinates.” He paused and shrugged. “I guess there’s
nothing left to do but hope and pray everything turns out well.” It looked like
he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.
Probably
because I’m right here, listening, Jamie
thought.
“Yeoman
Kirk,” Wesley said suddenly, breaking into Jamie’s musing.
“Sir?”
He held out
his coffee cup. “I need a refill. On the double.”
Jamie was
torn between wanting to stay and hear more and obeying the commodore’s order.
Obeying the order won out. She snatched the cup out of Wesley’s hand, blew her
father’s image a hasty kiss, and skipped into the turbolift to complete what
would probably be her last assignment aboard the USS Lexington.
The courtroom
felt scary and official, much like the conference chambers on Babel. The
seating wasn’t tiered like the grand hall where Jamie and her friends had been
awarded for bravery only a few short months before, nor was it huge and open.
It was a
small courtroom, but Jamie knew big, important matters were decided here.
Decisions about her future. She shivered.
The last three
weeks aboard the Lexington had been some of the best times Jamie ever
remembered having. She’d recovered completely from whatever sickness Dr. Gwen
had decided she suffered from, and the memory of the six long weeks with her
grandparents had faded into a vaguely remembered bad dream.
She tucked
those miserable days into the same mental file folder where she kept the memory
of the afternoon she had spent on the Degreth with Commander Koloth. It
was the same mental file where she stored the memory of when she’d been deathly
ill, when that nasty Scalla insect had stung her. If she tried hard enough, she
could recall them to the front of her mind, but mostly she kept those memories
hidden.
But when
Jamie sat down in the courtroom and saw her grandparents sitting with their
lawyer across the aisle, all those memories on Centaurus came rushing to the
surface. Especially the scariest memory—why she was sitting in this courtroom.
Grandfather and Grandmother Winter wanted to take her back with them, for good!
She clutched Dr. Gwen’s hand.
“No worries,
Jamie,” Gwen whispered and found them a seat away from both sides of the
debate. “Look over there,” the doctor suggested. “Your dad’s smiling at you.”
Jamie twisted
around where Gwen was pointing and saw not only her father, but Dr. McCoy and
Mr. Spock, as well. Her throat got tight with tears. She missed them so much!
Before Gwen could stop her, Jamie leaped up from her seat and tore across the
courtroom, straight into her father’s arms.
“Daddy!” she
cried joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck. She didn’t pay any attention
to the hubbub her greeting caused. She didn’t see the judge stride into the
room or hear the court clerk tell everyone to rise and come to order. Nor did
she see the look on her grandparents’ faces at her breach of court protocol.
“Your honor!”
a tall, dark man burst out from beside the Winters. “This is most irregu—”
“I have
eyes,” the judge barked and slammed his gavel down. “The child has not seen her
father in nearly three months. Cut her a little slack.” He waited a few minutes
then called to Jamie, “Young lady, please return to your seat for now.” He did
not smile, but his voice was kind.
Reluctantly,
Jamie slid from her father’s lap and returned to her place beside Dr. Gwen. She
tried to listen, tried to follow what the lawyers were saying, but after twenty
minutes, she yawned and decided that courtrooms were the second-most boring
places in the entire galaxy. That young ladies’ school was the first-most
boring place.
She glanced
around the room and recognized the Prune Lady sitting off by herself. It was
obvious that she had intended to be Jamie’s representative during the hearing. Gwen
Wesley had taken her place, and Ms. Fields did not look happy. When she was
called to the stand to offer the results of her report, Jamie resisted the urge
to stick her tongue out at her.
That is
behavior unbecoming of a Starfleet cadet, she reminded herself just in the nick of time.
The Winters’
lawyer had plenty to say—all of it less than glowing—about Jamie’s stay aboard
the Enterprise. Dr. Gwen had to lay a firm hand on Jamie’s shoulder when
Grandfather reported on Jamie’s neglected education. Captain Kirk looked
shocked at hearing those words, and even Mr. Spock appeared mildly surprised.
For a Vulcan, that was the same as yelling, “Impossible!”
Jamie
groaned. This is getting worse and worse! She could no longer ignore the
lawyer’s words. She hoped when the scruffy-looking lawyer sitting with her
father stood up, he’d surprise them all with his clever words and the true facts
about Jamie living on the Enterprise. Mr. Cogley talked long and with a
lot of emotion, but the judge seemed indifferent to his arguments.
But then Mr.
Cogley dropped a bombshell. “I’d like to call Dr. Gwen Wesley of the USS
Lexington to bring testimony.”
Gwen did not
look surprised at being called, but everybody else did. The doctor gave Jamie a
bright smile and slipped out of her seat. She made her way to the witness stand
and withdrew a small, black device with a strap from her doctor’s satchel.
Jamie gasped
and covered her mouth.
My
tri-corder! Where did she find it? I left it in the air ducts.
Sam Cogley
gave Dr. Gwen an open platform to speak her mind. And speak it she did. “I’m
sorry, Jamie,” she apologized right off. “I know these are personal, private
log entries and that you never intended that others should hear them. However,
with your permission, I would like to play some of the entries. I believe they
are very important to this case.”
Her eyes told
Jamie to say yes.
Jamie turned
red but gave Dr. Gwen a tiny nod. She tried to remember all the things she’d
said in her log, but only one thing came to mind: I didn’t say very many
nice things about Grandfather.
Gwen turned
on the tri-corder, made some adjustments, and looked at the judge. “Your honor,
a few things have been overlooked this afternoon, namely the one witness who
has the most to win or lose with your decision. Both sides can—and will—color
their statements and even stretch the facts to strengthen their cases. In
addition, Jamie could come up here and tell her story, but who’s to say she
might have been coached on what to say?”
Gwen drew a
breath. “However, no one was with her when she recorded her log, nor did she
intend to share what she recorded. I suggest you listen to a few of these
entries and judge for yourselves just how safe—or unsafe—this child is with the
Winters on Centaurus. After listening, Your Honor, you might also want to
consider more than just physical safety when making your ruling regarding where,
and with whom, this little girl should live.”
With that, Dr.
Gwen turned on the tri-corder and let Jamie’s childish voice tell the rest of
the story.
Chapter 15
“Security
found it a week ago,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I had
planned. I also violated a trust and listened to your log entries. I hope
you’ll forgive me. I felt it was the only evidence that could truly shed light
on what went on during your stay on Centaurus.”
Jamie nodded,
but she didn’t look at the doctor. She’d seen enough already. When the log
entries had played, Daddy looked like he wanted to beam Grandfather into deep
space. The lawyer, Mr. Cogley, looked pleased, as did Dr. McCoy. Mr. Spock, as
usual, looked the same as always—arms folded across his chest, waiting
patiently for something. Grandmother was crying. Grandfather’s face was as red
as the star Antares.
There was a
long, uncomfortable silence while the judge stared at his gavel. Finally, he
took a deep breath and spoke. “Jamie, will you come up here please?”
Jamie knew
she had no choice. You don’t say no to a judge. She left the relative safety of
Dr. Gwen’s side and made her way to the front of the courtroom. When she
started to climb into the huge witness chair, the judge shook his head.
“No, come up
here on my lap.” He patted his robes and smiled. When Jamie was settled, he
said, “Well, you certainly had a lot to say on that little device, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jamie flushed hot. “Am I in trouble, Judge Atkins?” Probably. What she’d
said on the tri-corder was definitely not respectful toward her grandparents.
Judge Atkins
shook his head. “No, of course not. I appreciated your candor.” When Jamie gave
him a puzzled look, he explained, “I mean your honesty. You’ve had quite a time
these past three months, much more excitement than most ten-year-olds, I imagine.”
“I’m nine,”
Jamie corrected automatically.
The judge
furrowed his brow and glanced at a data pad. “Strange,” he mused. “It says your
birthday is September fifth, and here it is September twelfth. But perhaps you
go by star dates, and I’m no good with those.”
Jamie gasped.
“It’s September twelfth? I had a birthday? I didn’t know.”
“Obviously,”
Judge Atkins said with a laugh. “Perhaps hiding out in a starship’s ventilation
ducts makes the days all blur together. It’s no wonder you lost track.” Then
his look turned serious and he regarded the onlookers with a frown. “I am ready
to make my ruling on this custody case.”
Jamie
stiffened. “Please,” she began, “Can I—”
The judge
silenced Jamie with a look. “Do not interrupt,” he advised.
Jamie clamped
her jaw shut, sat still on Judge Atkins’ lap, and looked sorrowfully at her
father. He smiled at her, but it did little to lift Jamie’s spirits. After all,
Judge Atkins was Grandfather’s friend, the how-fair-is-that judge, whom she’d
overheard Grandfather say would help make Jamie’s stay with the Winters turn
permanent.
Tears welled
up in her eyes. She was trapped, but good.
The judge’s
next words brought Jamie to full attention. “I have to say, Robert,” he began,
“that if even half of the candid, childish words I heard a few minutes ago on
that tri-corder are true, then I believe your motives for wanting this little
girl to live with you need some serious revision.”
Robert rose.
His lawyer rose with him. “Philip, I—”
“Do not
interrupt me,” the judge said in the same tone he had used with Jamie a minute
before. His black brows came together, and he slammed down his gavel. Jamie
jumped, startled.
Robert sat
down.
“It appears
that living on a starship is no less dangerous than being the granddaughter of
a high-ranking political figure,” Judge Atkins said. “And I have to agree with
Dr. Gwen Wesley when she stated that physical safety should not be the only
factor to consider. Emotional, spiritual, and mental health is just as
important.” He shifted Jamie around and smiled at her. “I probably know the
answer already, but I’d like to hear it from you. You can now talk. Where would
you like to live?”
“With my
father aboard the Enterprise,” Jamie said at once.
Grandmother’s
face collapsed into a look of sorrow, and Jamie’s heart felt sad. Grandmother
had always tried to make Jamie’s stay pleasant.
“What about
your grandparents?” the judge probed. “I know in their own way they want to see
you too.” He shot a glance at Grandfather. “I’m sure he’s sorry he treated you
poorly.”
Jamie looked
at her lap. “If I visited them, it would be okay, I guess. I just don’t want to
live with them. And I especially don’t want to go to that girls’ school.
I didn’t learn anything and”—Jamie swallowed—“I got the Fs and Ds on purpose.
I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
The judge
nodded. “I see. So, what do you say, Robert?”
He had
transformed from a formal, stern-looking judge into a relaxed grandfather,
bouncing a child on his knee and chatting with a friend. “Are you ready to put
this years-old bitterness against James Kirk behind you and enjoy this
delightful little girl like a grandparent should?”
Robert looked
dumbfounded. He opened his mouth, closed it, exchanged glances with his lawyer,
then gave the judge a slight nod.
Judge Atkins
pointed his gavel at the man. “I’ll hold you to that, Robert. Just see if I
don’t.”
Then he
turned formal. “It is the judgment of this court that Jamie Kirk should be
returned to her father, but with the condition that she will spend two weeks
out of each calendar year with her grandparents, Robert and Anna Winter. The
dates of each visit must be mutually agreed upon by all parties. If desired,
additional time can be added, but the minimum will be two weeks, until Jamie
reaches the age of fifteen. At that time, this court order will end, and the
parties can work out—or not—any further contact.”
All Jamie
heard was “returned to her father.” She could hardly sit still while Judge
Atkins finished his ruling.
“The court
recorder will write all this up so nobody forgets.” He pierced Robert Winter
with a steely gaze and then turned and included James Kirk in his scrutiny.”
Silence met
his statement.
“Court is
adjourned.” He banged his gavel, slid Jamie from his lap, and stood up.
In a flash,
Jamie jumped down from the judge’s bench. She raced across the courtroom and
threw herself into her father’s open arms. Dr. McCoy ruffled her hair. Mr.
Spock allowed himself the concession of a pleased look.
“Welcome
home,” he said in Vulcan.
Robert Winter
strode to Kirk and surprised everyone by reaching out his hand. “Philip ordered
it, and I agreed, James. I’m willing to put the past behind us, if you are.”
Obviously
shocked, Kirk grasped his father-in-law’s hand and allowed the older man to
give it a hearty shake. “All right. I can live with that.”
Robert nodded.
“I suppose the judge’s two weeks doesn’t apply to the rest of this year, but
Jamie missed her birthday. I’d like to take her out to celebrate before the Enterprise
warps out of orbit.”
Dr. Gwen
joined them just then. “I’m sorry, sir, but I recommend that Jamie goes
immediately back to the Enterprise and—”
“I didn’t
make myself clear,” Robert interrupted. “I’m inviting all of you, Lexington
and Enterprise personal alike, to join us. I also intend to invite the
children from that ill-fated Babel incident a few months ago. I’m certain they
will arrive in a hurry when they find out what I have planned.”
For the first
time ever, Jamie saw a twinkle come into Grandfather’s eyes. It appeared that
once he began to thaw out, he was melting faster than a snowman on a hot
summer’s day back in Iowa. Jamie waited to hear more, scarcely believing her
ears. She wasn’t quite ready to trust Grandfather yet, but that didn’t mean she
couldn’t listen to his plans for her birthday.
“I plan to
rent the entire theme park of Six Flags Over Centaurus. Name the day, James,
and it will be at our disposal.”
Jamie gasped.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Six Flags? All to themselves? No
waiting in line? And Essak and Shaull and even J’nai and all the rest of the
kids were coming too? This would be her very best birthday ever!
Finally! A
good reason to have rich grandparents!
“The entire
park?” McCoy managed to ask.
“Of course.
It’s large enough to accommodate the combined crews of two starships, wouldn’t
you say?”
“I don’t know
what to say,” Kirk said.
“I do, Daddy,”
Jamie burst out. “Authorize shore leave for the crew, and let’s all go to the
Six Flags fun park.”
“Just what
the doctor ordered,” Gwen agreed. “I’ll recommend shore leave for the Lexington
crew, as well.”
“Okay, okay,”
Kirk gave in with a chuckle. “On one condition.”
“What’s
that?” Jamie asked.
Everyone
waited to hear the captain’s condition.
“You will not
wear a Lexington uniform to Six Flags, Cadet Kirk. Not while you’re
serving on my ship. You belong on the Enterprise.”
Jamie and Dr.
Gwen exchanged looks. “I told you he’d say that,” Jamie said, laughing. Then
she turned to her father. “It’s a deal!”
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