"My crew ..." Kirk rasped. "How bad is it, Bones?"

"Twenty-six injured so far," McCoy told him. "If things go according to the last radiation exposure, they should keep coming in for the next couple of hours or so. I think it's worse than last time, Jim."

Kirk weakly tried to grab his arm but missed. 'Tell Spock... alert Starfleet command...."

"I'm sure Spock can handle the situation," McCoy a.s.sured him. "You have to rest now."

"No ...," Kirk muttered. "Have to finish ... my mission."

"Not right now, you don't," McCoy said bluntly. He picked up another hypospray, this one filled with val-urian, a Maltese drug that soothed the senses and relaxed the muscles. He injected Kirk with it.

For a moment, despite the mayhem in the ward as people cried out for relief, the doctor stared down at Kirk. He had done all he couldcellular regeneration, tissue strengthening, bone-marrow infusion, injections of antimicrobial drugs. Now it was up to Kirk's immune system to fight the damage done by the ionizing radiation.

Nurse Chapel turned over the ward to the most senior duty nurse and picked up her medkit. She had been making regular rounds of the ten patients who were still confined to bed rest, so she knew exactly where to go. She had checked in via the monitor with each of mem shortly after they realized that the Enterprise had been exposed to gamma radiation again, but none of them had complained of any new symptoms.

Chapel saw the signs of disorder everywhere. Panels had been removed and circuitry exposed. Repair teams seemed to be in every corridor. The medical database had finally come back on-line, but it had been a frightening moment when she'd realized the diagnostic beds weren't linked to the medical computers. She had taken pulses and temperatures using handheld scanners.

Chapel made her rounds, noting the nervous tones and the way crewmembers huddled together in small groups to talk. It was as if a signal had flashed through the ship, and everyone knew that their captain was lying in sickbay, unable to take charge of the unstable situation. There was an ineffable feeling that things were breaking down. No one knew where the radiation came from or who would be the next to sicken and fall at their post.

Even Nurse Chapel, who trusted Mr. Spock implicitly, wished that Captain Kirk had not been struck down by the radiation. Who could guess what the Klingons would do? They could be aiming their weapons right now at the Enterprise's weakened shields.

But she couldn't allow her own apprehension to upset her patients. As she paused in front of each door to request admittance, she shook herself, settling a pleasant smile on her Ups. The sick crew members would be worried enough without her compounding the problem. Mental health was an extremely important component in recovery.

As Chapel checked each patient, it was usually a matter of pa.s.sing the hand scanner over them while making rea.s.suring conversation. Four crew members demanded to be released from confinement, and she agreed. They were not fully recovered, but then again, none of those irradiated the first time had fully recovered. The nature of radiation poisoning was such that it progressed over weeks. Medical technology ensured that most of the damage could be lessened if caught in the first few hours, but the full course of treatment lasted up to thirty days.

One patient had already returned to duty, and Nurse Chapel noted on her tricorder to place a medical reprimand on Ensign Leesan's record. She should know better than to return to duty before she was released, but Leesan was a top technician and the prospect of so much work to be done must have driven her from her quarters.

Of the remaining five patients, Chapel found that two had been irradiated again. She stabilized them with hyposprays of cysteamine, then signaled the medical technicians to come fetch the sick crew members.

As they carried Lieutenant Matheson from his quarters, Nurse Chapel followed, nervously biting her lower lip. Matheson had gotten a dose of 200 rads the first time; now he'd taken another 400 rads. He wouldn't be returning to security duty for at least a week. But he wasn't as bad as Specialist Calloway, who had taken close to 600 rads both times. Chapel was very worried about Calloway, who was unconscious as they carried him from his room.

Now that she didn't have patients to rea.s.sure, Chapel felt all her own doubts and fears flooding back. They were going to have to start sending the less injured back to their quarters to make room on the diagnostic beds. That meant recruiting more orderlies from the repair crews to help.

She hurried toward sickbay, knowing there was so much work to be done that soon she wouldn't have time to think about anything else. It was always that way in sickbay during an emergency.

Spock was at the science station, even though he was in command of the bridge. Between the repair crews and the radiation sickness, there weren't enough able-bodied crew members to staff every station.

He continued to monitor the movements of the Klingon battlecruiser. The Tr'loth was still not fully operational, though they were no longer in danger of being pulled into the plasma storms. Spock was prepared to offer a.s.sistance before letting the Tr'loth drift into the plasma storms without any shields.

"Spock!" McCoy exclaimed, as he burst from the turbolift.

Spock calmly turned to see the doctor rash toward him, waving the remains of what appeared to be the blue tunic of a Starfleet uniform.

McCoy stopped and looked around. "Where is everybody?"

"Mister Sulu just left for sickbay. It is unfortunate you were not on the bridge several minutes earlier." Spock noted the bridge did look deserted with only an ensign at the conn and the lieutenant at the helm. Lieutenant DeGroodt was overseeing the repairs from the engineering station. Chief Engineer Scott was in engineering attempting to realign the dilithium crystals, which had expanded by another 3 percent. Bringing warp drive on-line again was Spock's top priority.

"Forty-nine so far!" McCoy exclaimed. "If this doesn't stop soon, the entire crew will be disabled."

"I am aware of that, Doctor."

"Well, what are you doing about it, Mister Spock?!" McCoy demanded. "Where's that radiation coming from? How can we stop it?"

"Unknown at this time," Spock said. "There is no evidence of unusual levels of gamma radiation in this region. No evidence of gravity fluctuations."

"Yes but there was a radiation burst," McCoy insisted. "There was a gravity fluctuation."

"Precisely, Doctor. However the readings do not correlate with any known phenomenon."

McCoy held up the shreds of plush blue material. "Look at this, Spock. It's Specialist Galloway's uniform." His fingers dug into the material, and it shattered, fragmenting into brittle flakes.

Spock took some of the material in his hand, noting the silicate feel. He placed it on a sample dish and aimed his tricorder at it.

"Unquestionably most unusual," Spock agreed. "The molecular structure has been altered. It is similar to the damage done to the dilithium crystals and EPS circuits. At first it appeared that the power fluctuations had fused the circuits, but pathways were fused even in inert circuitry."

"The radiation must have done it."

"Indeed, there have been reports of luminescence in certain metallic compounds of the ship." Spock gestured to the shreds of tunic. "And polymers appear to be vulnerable to the radiation, as well."

"We're all vulnerable!" McCoy said, raising his voice again. "Where's it coming from, Spock?"

"The first time we observed a radiation burst was when the Romulan bird-of-prey was destroyed," Spock pointed out logically. "I have a theory that the Romulans incorporate subs.p.a.ce proximity detonators in their vessels that are released in the event of their total destruction."

"A b.o.o.by trap!" McCoy exclaimed. "Of course ... so if their ship is destroyed, they can still destroy their opponents. Ruthless."

"It is typical of Romulan behavior. However, it is only a theory."

"Well, it gives us something to look for," McCoy agreed. "Do you think these proximity detonators are cloaked? Why haven't we found any of them?"

Spock swayed slightly, but recovered immediately. "I am endeavoring to determine that, Doctor."

"You look ill, Spock." McCoy peered uncomfortably close into his face. "Quite green, in fact. Could that fine Vulcan physique be as weak as a mere human's?"

"On the contrary, Doctor. When I need your a.s.sistance, I will notify you."

McCoy pulled out his hand scanner and pa.s.sed it close to Spock. "Exposure at least 300 rads!"

"Three hundred twelve to be exact."

"Spock, are you mad?! You have to come to sickbay right now for treatment."

Spock raised one brow. "May I remind you that I am currently in command of the Enterprise."

"May I remind you that you're half human." McCoy was already preparing a hypospray. "It's the best I can do until I run a diagnostic on your tissues and begin cellular regeneration."

"That will have to wait, Doctor."

The doctor grumbled, but Spock continued to scan for subs.p.a.ce disturbances, increasing the range to two pa.r.s.ecs and cross-referencing the data obtained from each sensor bank. It did not take much of his mental capacity to overcome the physical effects of the radiation exposure.

"Nothing affects you, does it, Spock?" McCoy said. "You can just keep on working in spite of radiation poisoning and a ship that's coming apart at the seams. You're one cold fish."

Spock glanced back at him. "Why thank you, Do ctor. I believe that was a compliment."

McCoy threw up his hands in exasperation. For Spock, that was a common enough occurrence, so he ignored it.

"My prescription for you is rest," McCoy said.

"So noted." Spock didn't glance up. "Dismissed, Doctor."

Chapter Ten.

Kirk wasn't sure where he was for a moment, then he remembered. Sickbay, they had brought him to sickbay after he had almost pa.s.sed out in front of Commander Teral down in the shuttle maintenance shops. Checking the chronometer, he could tell that had been several hours ago. His body ached as though he had been running for days.

"I'm losing him!" McCoy exclaimed, hunched over the diagnostic bed next to Kirk.

Kirk pushed himself up to see. Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel were working over Specialist Galloway. The heartbeat monitor was blinking too fast, and the indicator dials were either too high or nearly at base level.

"Give me 15 cc's of tricortizine," McCoy ordered.

Chapel came running over with a full hypospray, handing it over. "Fifteen cc's, Doctor."

"He's convulsing again!" McCoy exclaimed, trying to hold Galloway down.

Kirk swung his legs over the edge of the bed. With two steps, he reached the bed Galloway was lying on. Kirk had to brace himself to remain standing.

McCoy hardly acknowledged him. The doctor was frantically trying to save Galloway. But the beep of the heartbeat monitor turned into a steady drone.

Bones lifted his hands, staring down at Galloway. "He's dead, Jim."

Kirk also gazed down at Galloway, limp now. He had been a crew member for over three years. Kirk had promoted him to Specialist himself. He was a brilliant physicist.

Nurse Chapel shut off the diagnostic monitor, and the drone stopped.

McCoy was slowly shaking his head. "He received two high doses of radiation, Jim. There was nothing we could do. His circulatory system was irreparably damaged."

"I know you tried, Bones," Kirk whispered. "How many are sick?"

"Sixty-four, Jim. None so bad as Calloway, but if we get hit again ... there's no telling how many people will die."

There is no dignity in this death, Kirk thought, as two medical technicians came forward to shift Galloway's body onto an antigrav pallet. They would take him to the morgue, and tomorrow or the next day Kirk would be standing next to a coffin at an exterior port. He would try to say a few words to make sense of the loss, while Galloway's friends gathered tearfully around to bid him farewell. And that was the positive scenario.

"You should lie down," McCoy told him. "You're stabilized now, so someone will help you to your quarters. We need the diagnostic bed for the injured who haven't received bone-marrow infusion."

"I should get to the bridge," Kirk said, still bracing himself against the bed.

"Spock has everything under control," McCoy said sharply. "The Klingons have just gotten impulse power, but their shields are still down. Besides, you couldn't sit up for ten minutes straight, Jim."

Kirk watched as the medical technician gently pushed away the antigrav pallet carrying Calloway. Kirk knew he couldn't lie in bed while his crew died one by one from this strange radiation poisoning.

"Ah, here's Yeoman Harrison," McCoy said with relief. "Make sure Captain Kirk gets to his quarters, Yeoman. Put some fluids by his bed so he won't have to go to the food slot."

"Aye, sir," Harrison replied seriously.

She took Kirk's arm, supporting him. Kirk smiled at her weakly. "You're not sick this time?"

"No, sir."

He could swear she reddened. "I guess this time it's my turn," he said.

Kirk let her help him out of sickbay, which was full of injured crew members. All of the rooms that lined the corridors near sickbay had open doors, revealing the injured lying in makeshift biobeds.

"I have to go to the brig," Kirk told Yeoman Ham-son as they entered the turbolift.

"But, sir, Dr. McCoy said"

"It doesn't matter what McCoy said." Kirk took hold of the turbolift control. His hand was shaking, and he had to lean against the railing. "Deck 19."

"Are you sure you'll be all right, Captain?" Harrison asked anxiously, caught between letting him stand on his own and trying to support some of his weight.

"I will be after I talk to Commander Teral."

Kirk got a report from Spock on the way down to the brig. The situation was much as McCoy had saidthe Klingons were slowly but surely pulling their ship together. The Enterprise was also being repaired, and Scotty had nearly finished realigning the dilithium crystals. They hadn't bothered to do the lengthy scanning procedure this time. They were betting everything on the crystals' integrity.

Kirk left Yeoman Harrison waiting in the security section while he went into the brig.

"Commander Teral says she feels sick," Security Chief Kelley said. "Nurse Chapel came down and gave her some 'sprays. Said she got over 400 rads and needs cellular regeneration. But I wouldn't release Teral to sickbay without direct orders from you."

"Good work," Kirk said. He was sweating again, and feeling dizzy.

Kelley sat down behind the table again as Kirk entered the tiny cell of the brig. Commander Teral was curled up on the bench, rocking back and forth slightly. = "I hear you're ill," Kirk said flatly.

"What happened?" she groaned. "I feel like I'm dying."

Her hair was loose and flowing down her back, while her eyes were reddened and watery. She looked haggard, and Kirk suddenly realized she was older than he was. She had such a commanding presence that until now he had not considered her age.

"Spock thinks this might be a Romulan b.o.o.by trap. Have you heard of the military using subs.p.a.ce proximity detonators?"

"I don't know ... I don't think so ... but it could be true...." She blinked, her mouth open slightly as she tried to breathe without pa.s.sing out.

Kirk knew exactly how bad she felt. Slowly, he eased down on a chair. The sick interrogating the sick. At least he was better than she was. She hadn't received any cellular regeneration or marrow infusions. Maybe she wouldn't realize that he barely had the upper hand.

"Soon the Klingons will regain shields," he told her, "and they're going to attack us because they know you're on board."