He inclined his head in the customary acknowledgment. "My scientific adviser is also my second in command … and my wife," he stated.

"Your personal affairs are of no concern to me or to our Praetor," the man returned without hesitation. "She will report here at once!"

As the shame of defeat rose to color Tazol's rugged face, he forced himself to respond with the correct salute. "It shall be done, Lord," he replied through painfully clenched teeth, then slid into the nearest lift chute before permitting his anger to reach maturity. Already, he could see the smug look on Sarela's face once she learned of her orders.

In a now-familiar moment of despair, he touched the sword at his side … and wondered what the almighty Praetor might think if the Ravon's captain were found dead by his own hand.

But he dismissed the thought before becoming romantically enchanted with it, punching the button which would bring the lift back to the bridge. There was only one pleasant thought left alive in his mind: If heads were going to roll in memoriam to the Praetor's deceased plans of galactic dominion, perhaps that head would belong to the lovely Sarela … and not himself.

Chapter Nine

CAPTAIN SPOCK WAS alone in his quarters when the door buzzer demanded attention. He sighed to himself, unaccountably irritated at the interrupton into his private meditation regardless of the fact that he was technically on duty for another twenty minutes.

"Come," he acknowledged, then glanced up to see the ship's surgeon standing in the doorway. Rising, the Vulcan indicated a chair as the doctor entered.

"Well, Spock," McCoy began without preamble, "I'm aware that these findings should probably be referred directly to the science officer for immediate collation, but considering the circumstances, I thought I'd might as well come straight to the throne." He smiled wearily, sliding into the plush, black visitor's chair.

"Your tendency to exaggerate the powers of command can be most annoying, Doctor," the Vulcan replied, accepting the computer tape which McCoy proffered in his direction. "I presume you have completed the vid-scans of all the volunteers?"

McCoy nodded. "They're all on the tape, Spock," he explained, brows narrowing as the Vulcan inserted the raw information disk into the terminal on the desk. "So far, it's all hypothesis, but …" his voice trailed off.

"You have a theory?" the Vulcan wondered.

McCoy shrugged. "I dunno," he said at last. "Maybe I'm going a little crazy, too, but I'd swear the evidence I've compiled so far is pointing toward … well …" He threw up his hands, tasting hesitation. "I dunno," he repeated.

Spock's brows narrowed as he returned to the chair behind the desk. "Please come to the point if there is one, Doctor," he urged, voice harsher than usual. "Time is of the utmost importance."

McCoy swallowed hard. No point delaying making a fool of himself. "Well, it's starting to look as if there's no realscientific or medical cure for what's happening." He put one knuckle to his lip thoughtfully, then met the Vulcan's expectant gaze. "Dammit, Spock, if I didn't know better, I'd swear this whole thing is being caused by … by space itself!" But he waved his own statement aside with a quick, negative gesture. "Now I'll be the first to admit how crazy this sounds, but we've dealt with things of a similar nature before—the Tholians, for instance. Similar," he stressed, "but not quite the same. And with the Halkans," he added hopefully. "That parallel universe."

"Are you suggesting that we are slipping into an alternate dimensional plane, Doctor?" Spock interrupted, switching the tape scanner to the hold position.

McCoy glanced up sharply. "That's part of it," he confessed. "But I'm not sure even thatwould explain it this time, Captain. It's as if wedon't belong in thisuniverse—or as if this whole universe itself is somehow … alien to the mind." He managed a nervous laugh. "At least with the Tholians, the ShiKahrwas slipping into a different universe—a pre-existing universe with physical results and measurable phenomena. And with the Halkan Mission: you, me, Uhura and Scotty just … changed placeswith our counterparts in the parallel universe. But now …" He fell silent.

The Vulcan leaned back in the chair, resting his elbows on the arm and steepling his fingers neatly in front of his chest. "But now," he ventured, completing the doctor's sentence, "those counterparts no longer exist. The lifeforms appear to be pre-existing, yet this universe has been formed in some type of microcosm?"

McCoy glanced at the Vulcan. "Yes!" he exclaimed, surprised that the Vulcan could follow his reasoning when he wasn't sure he was following it himself. "That's exactly it, Spock! But the critical thing is—judging from the information we've monitored in those vid-scans, those counterparts of ourselves … of that universe itself … didexist at one time." But with that thought came another. "It's wewho are the ghosts, Spock," he said, a shudder accompanying the peculiar consideration. "And based on what we've seen so far, I'd chance a guess that this insanity is eventually going to spread throughout the entire galaxy."

Spock considered that. "I agree," he said at last. "Yet attempting to recreate an entire universe—even assuming that the theory itself is plausible—is not something easily accomplished." He paused. "Nor will it be readily acceptable—particularly to the human mind."

"What are you getting at, Spock?" McCoy asked pointedly.

"The mind is only capable of accepting that which it can comprehend, Doctor," the Vulcan explained. "And though the parallel universe theory is now a commonly accepted fact, it is difficult for the mind to grasp the concept that no lifeform is utterly unique. As we discovered on the Halkan Mission, there are duplications—doppelgängers, if you will, with subtle or major differences. If we should attempt to persuade FleetCom that it is thisuniverse which is unstable, I hardly believe the High Council would accept that information as fact. In any man's mind, Doctor, he is right; the right to life belongs to him alone. It is the law of individual survival—of a need to be unique."

"But if we don'tdo something," McCoy protested, "I'd be willing to bet a year's pay that the problem will eventually … take care of itself. And that, Spock, is the law of nature! Just look at those orders from S't'kal! And even if we're successful in evading thoseorders, that's just the beginning. And it's no longer as simple as if we were just a danger to ourselves. Hell, Captain, with current technology, this entire galaxycould be lifeless within a year's time! Just on this ship alone, there have already been several cases of assault, personal threats … and Reichert's charade epitomizes it all!"

"Granted," the Vulcan agreed. "Yet I must ask you—as an individual lifeform theoretically unique unto yourself—would you be willing to essentially die to preserve a conceptof universal stability?"

McCoy swallowed hard, but the answer was one he'd already had to consider. "I'll admit it's not a pleasant thought, Spock," he said quietly, "but it's even lesspleasant to think of what happens if we're right and we don't do something." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. "For the rest of our lives—however short that might be—we'd be living in a galactic asylum, complete with all the things humankind has finally started to rise above: war, disease, hunger, prejudice. . . ." He shook his head emphatically. "No, Spock, I'm not suicidal; but I'd also like to think that I'm not selfishenough to consider my own life more valuable than the lives—and the sanity—of an entire universe."