THE SECURITY TEAM flanking the turbolift doors stepped forward, phasers drawn and leveled.
"Don't fire—yet!" Kirk said quickly. "Mr. Sulu, can you hold on? Can you keep control?"
"I think so, Captain," Sulu grated between clenched teeth.
"Good." Kirk activated the intercom to McCoy's office. "Bones, get up here. It's got Sulu."
"On my way, for all the good it'll do," McCoy said, irritation as well as concern evident in the sharpness of his voice.
"Mr. Spock, take the helm."
Sulu, struggling to stand up and pull away from the helm controls, suddenly went limp, hitting the deck with a thud. Kirk was on his feet instantly, then kneeling next to the helmsman, but before he could say anything, Spock, in the midst of stepping down from the science station to the helm, stiffened abruptly.
"Captain," he said, his voice unnaturally stiff, almost mechanical. "I believe it is now making an attempt on me."
"If anyone can hold out—"
Chekov, at the navigator's station, gasped and almost screamed, his hands darting sideways toward the helm controls before they stopped, trembling.
Spock, apparently released after only a few seconds, staggered as if, like Sulu moments before, his muscles were betraying him. Sulu himself, pale and breathing heavily, was already struggling to his feet.
Chekov, grimacing, working his mouth as if trying to speak, began to reach for the helm controls again, but before he could touch them, before the recovering Spock or Sulu could reach him, one of the security guards fired.
But Chekov didn't fall.
Instead, he lurched violently sideways toward the helm, crashing into the helmsman's chair and sprawling over it facedown.
For a moment he lay there, motionless. Spock, apparently fully recovered from his own brief contact, reached down to lift him from the chair.
But as his fingers neared Chekov's arms, Chekov began to move again, and Spock pulled back, watching.
Slowly, Chekov got his arms under himself and, pressing against the seat of the helmsman's chair, pushed himself up.
"Mr. Chekov," Kirk began, but he cut himself off as Chekov raised himself enough to allow his face to be seen.
The eyes were closed, the mouth hanging partially open, as if all the facial muscles were relaxed. Slowly, he turned to face the helm controls.
The turbolift doors hissed open, and McCoy burst through, followed by the same orderly who had accompanied him earlier. The security team turned toward them sharply, phasers still drawn, but almost immediately they turned back to Chekov and the others near the helm.
"Get your tricorder on Mr. Chekov, Dr. McCoy," Kirk said sharply.
"What the blazes—" McCoy began, but then he, too, saw Chekov's face. Frowning, he hurried forward, unsheathing the tricorder's scanner as he went. "What happened to him?"
"He was struck by a phaser on medium stun a few seconds ago," Kirk said.
"Then what the devil's he doing moving around?" McCoy snapped. "He'd be out cold if he'd been—"
Simultaneously, Chekov's eyes opened and McCoy brought the tricorder scanner within range of Chekov.
McCoy's jaw dropped as he looked at the tricorder screen. "He is out cold—according to this. Then what—"
"I suspect, Doctor," Spock said, "that the entity that earlier attached itself to Captain Kirk has now attached itself to Mr. Chekov. It had, only moments earlier, attempted to attach itself first to Mr. Sulu and then to myself. Now, because Mr. Chekov himself was presumably rendered unconscious by the phaser, the entity is temporarily without opposition and is in control of Mr. Chekov's body."
As if to confirm Spock's words, Chekov turned to face the helm, lowering his now open, unblinking eyes to the controls.
"And you're all just standin' around watching?" McCoy turned abruptly to the orderly who had followed him onto the bridge. "Here, give me a hand, and we'll get him down to sickbay where he belongs!"
As McCoy was speaking, one of Chekov's hands raised itself, slowly and uncertainly, toward the control board. Spock, still standing next to Chekov, watched until he saw which control the hand was reaching for, then reached out himself and grasped Chekov's wrist.
At the touch, Chekov's entire body stiffened spasmodically, and Spock himself felt some of the same irrational fear that had surged through him minutes before when the entity had tried to attach itself to him. Obviously, though the entity remained confined in Chekov's body, it could still have a powerful effect on anyone who came close enough.
"Spock, what the blazes are you doing now?" McCoy rasped as he reached for Chekov's other arm in an automatic comforting move.
But instead of being comforted, Chekov—the entity that was controlling Chekov's body—jerked violently, trying to pull away from McCoy's touch and tear himself out of Spock's relentless grip. No longer was he trying to reach the helm controls. He was simply trying to escape, thrashing violently in all directions. Spock, now gripping both of Chekov's arms as much in an attempt to keep him from damaging himself as to keep him from accidentally striking the helm controls, began to pull Chekov away.
"Security, give Mr. Spock a hand!" Kirk snapped.
Phasers still in hand, they hesitated a moment but then hurriedly put them away and moved forward, past McCoy.
As they touched Chekov, trying to grasp his legs and waist, they froze momentarily, their eyes widening, but they didn't pull back.
An instant later, after one final spasmodic outburst, Chekov collapsed.
For a long moment, there was only silence as a dozen pairs of eyes darted in all directions, looking for the next victim.
Then Spock, lowering Chekov gently to the deck, said, "The entity has withdrawn."
"But for how long?" Kirk asked. "And what was it trying to accomplish?"
"To return to the gate, I suspect, Captain," Spock said. "At the moment I attempted to restrain Mr. Chekov, he was reaching for the control that would have reversed our course."
"And you still sensed no hostility? No menace? Even before, when it was attempting to take you over?"
"None, Captain. I felt only the irrational fear generated in my own mind and in that of Mr. Chekov."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, and then, after a moment's silence, he turned and stepped from the command chair toward the communications station. "Lieutenant Uhura, open a channel to Starfleet Headquarters again. Perhaps this latest development will change their minds."
By the time another orderly and a stretcher had arrived to help McCoy transport Chekov to sickbay, Admiral Wellons of Starfleet Headquarters was on a voice link with the Enterprise.
"Admiral Noguchi is not available, Captain," Wellons said stiffly. "But I see no reason to countermand his orders. That map you say you have may be invaluable."
"Agreed, Admiral, but it won't be of any use to anyone at Starfleet Headquarters. The map tells nothing of how the gate operates, only where it goes. The only chance we have to learn something useful, something that can help us put a stop to this outbreak of new gates, something that can help us find a way to fight whatever it is that's coming through those gates, is to reenter the gate. In addition, the danger of infecting the Federation with this entity which has apparently attached itself to the Enterprise is greater than ever."
Irritably, Kirk began to outline what had happened in the last few minutes, but before he had more than begun, Admiral Wellons cut him off.
"Kirk!" Wellons snapped. "I have had just about enough arguments for one day! Your reputation as a loose cannon on Starfleet's deck is well known to me. Out of respect for your family, Admiral Noguchi has often been more than lenient with you, but I will tolerate no more of it! No more! If you are incapable of obeying a simple command without wasting valuable time debating it like a rebellious Academy freshman, I will relieve you and turn the Enterprise over to someone who can! Is that understood?"
"Understood," Kirk said, his voice brittle.
"Very well. Now, if there is no more—"
"I beg your pardon, Admiral," Spock broke in. "This is Lieutenant Commander Spock, and I must agree with the captain. Our own computer has already completed an analysis of the map which I am confident is as thorough as anything Starfleet computers could accomplish. Unless you possess information you are deliberately withholding from us, I would submit that our making systematic use of that map is the only logical course open to us. And finally, the captain has not exaggerated the danger of infection."
"You are both inviting court-martial! Are you planning to force me to have the Devlin escort you back to Starfleet headquarters? I will if you make it necessary."
"We understand, Admiral," Spock said, his voice as level as always. "We would, however, like to speak with Admiral Noguchi."
"The orders will be the same, no matter who you speak to! Others, however, may not be as tolerant as I have been!"
"Nonetheless—"
"You will return! Under arrest, the lot of you, if that is the only way!"
Spock did not respond for several seconds. Instead, he stood silently, as if listening to the subspace hiss that was all that came from the speakers. Kirk frowned but remained silent, knowing that Spock never acted irrationally, never acted without a reason. And to act—to interfere—as he had in the last two minutes, he must have a very powerful reason indeed.
"Do you hear me?" Wellons demanded, now sounding not only angry but distracted as well.
"We do hear you, Admiral," Spock said, a slight shift in tone apparently indicating capitulation. "We are currently under way to Starfleet Headquarters at warp factor six. If we maintain that speed, we will arrive in approximately eleven point three nine standard days. Will that be satisfactory, sir?"
Another pause, and then, "Yes, that will be satisfactory. Captain Kirk, does your first officer speak for you as well?"
"Of course, Admiral," Kirk said quickly.
"Very well, Captain. You seem to have come to your senses. We will, however, alert the Devlin to your misgivings."
And the link was broken.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "You have a reason—a logical reason—for everything you do, so I can only assume you have one for what you did just now. Including the way you worded your supposed compliance with Wellons's orders. 'If we maintain that speed,' I believe you said."
"Yes, Captain, those were my words."
"All right. Why? Are you suggesting that, logically, we could ignore a direct order from Starfleet Headquarters?"
"I am, Captain. It is, I believe, our responsibility—our duty—under the circumstances."
"Circumstances? What circumstances?"
"It is my opinion, Captain, that our investigation of the gate is more vital than ever. Indeed, it could conceivably hold the only chance the Federation has for survival. Starfleet Headquarters, I fear, has already been infected."