The Entropy Effect

McCoy had really got to him, all right, with that sentimental tripe about carrying out his good friend’s last wishes. The man was a consummate actor. Ian supposed that was a talent most doctors cultivated anyway, and McCoy had used the ability magnificently. In a strange way, Ian could hardly help but admire him. He carried out his aims with a certain flair. The prosecutor realized now that McCoy could not be forgiven or excused any of his actions: however upset the doctor had been at the time of Kirk’s death, he had become well reconciled to it. No doubt the potential profits from the hijacking of the Enterprise and the use of the time-changer had soothed his grief and his conscience.

Ian felt completely helpless, as helpless as he had been in al Auriga’s grasp. The security officer had not hurt him, but Ian was at the mercy of McCoy and Spock and Mordreaux. The precariousness of his own position began to grow clear. Until now he had been too angry to worry very much about his own safety. This was the first time since coming on board the Enterprise that he had not had too many other things to think about.

He was not frightened. He considered his possible fate with a certain resignation, a fatalistic attitude. Perhaps they had beaten him. It certainly looked like it now. But if he got one more chance, just one stroke of luck, he would not be so fussy about absolute proof of their guilt.

As far as he was concerned, the only question left to be answered was whether they planned to use the ship and the time-changer for their own benefit, directly, or to take it and the Enterprise , the most advanced example of Federation technology in existence, and auction them off between the Federation’s enemies.

He flung himself down on his bunk and threw one arm across his eyes. His stomach churned; he felt nauseated by tension and anger. He lived his life on the verge of ulcers, a fact he denied. He was convinced that if he could just sort out the events of the last day properly and deduce what would happen next, then he could somehow stop the progression of disaster. But all he could do was think, over and over again, I shouldn’t have trusted McCoy. After everything I’ve seen I should have known better, I shouldn’t have trusted McCoy.

He heard the door open; he lay very still, pretending to be asleep. Light crept past the folds of his sleeve. He wondered if McCoy had come to dispatch him, as he had got rid of the captain, or if Spock had come to poison him, as he had somehow poisoned Lee, and Judge Desmoulins, and the security guard. Footsteps approached. He prepared himself to fight, trying to tense his muscles without appearing to move.

“Mr. Braithewaite?”

The tension went out of Ian in a rush. He pulled his arm away from his eyes and sat up quickly.

“Mr. Scott—thank god!”

“I had to override the lock,” Scott said. “I tried to reach ye on the communicator, but I couldna get through.”

“They’ve cut me off,” Braithewaite said. He sprang to his feet. “I tried to give McCoy another chance, and he had me arrested.”

“Aye,” Scott said dully.

Ian took Scott by the shoulders. The engineer did not meet his gaze.

“I knew I could trust you,” Ian said. “I knew there had to be somebody on this ship who would make a difference. My god, if you weren’t here—”

“Dinna remind me,” Scott said. “Dinna tell me compliments. There’s naught but shame in all of this.”

“We’ve got to try to recapture Spock and Mordreaux. They’ve both left the ship but they might have overlooked some kind of clue. They were working in Mordreaux’s room—come on!”

He plunged out into the corridor, oblivious to being seen or recaptured. Scott followed.

Dr. Mordreaux hunched down in a chair, his arms crossed over his chest. He glowered at Spock.

“Dammit, no!” he said again. “Iknew this would happen if I helped you, I knew it. You’ll never be satisfied till you manage to impose your own will and your own ethics on mine!”

“I assure you, Dr. Mordreaux—”

“Shut up! Get out! Do whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“Do you release me from my bond?” “No! Your actions are on your own head. If you do this, I’ll expose you for the liar you are.”

Spock gazed down at the time-changer. Dr. Mordreaux’s threat was trivial enough: If Spock broke his promise and kept the professor from being arrested, the promise technically would never have been made; if Spock failed, the professor would be taken to the rehabilitation colony, and no one would pay attention to what he said. But even if the threat were a compelling one, it would not control the Vulcan’s actions. Spock alone had to decide whether he must break his word, and whether he could live with himself afterward if he did.

The door to Dr. Mordreaux’s stateroom slid open.

“Ye said they’d escaped” Mr. Scott said to Ian Braithewaite.

Braithewaite stared at Spock and Mordreaux, his stunned expression changing to relief and triumph. “It doesn’t matter, we’ve caught up to them. Get that thing away from Spock. It’s—it’s a weapon!”