Constellations (44 page)

Bishop stood up and went to look out at the other space stations. “
You
should be here, Spock. Think about what you've accomplished over the years. All the worlds you've explored, all the devices you've been the first to see. Think about what you've seen just because you
happened
to be there: computers that ran whole worlds, machines left behind by vanished species who were later revered as gods. Think about all you might have missed had you
not
just stumbled upon them. And now what if…they came to you?” She turned around. “I want you to join me here at the Yard.”

Spock had never seriously considered serving anywhere but on a starship. Yet his entire career had been devoted to the expansion of Federation knowledge, and now here was a singular opportunity to exercise his skills as a scientist. And the Yard would most likely become the very center of Starfleet's xenotechnology studies.

“An intriguing proposal,” said Spock.

Bishop pointed to the space station nearest them. “Do you see that station? It holds the Smoke Trapezoids from the ruins of Epsilon Sagittarii IV. On the station above it, there are half a dozen Starfleet scientists dedicated to nothing but deciphering the hieroglyphics surrounding the Scepter of Ket'cha. Realm Dialect, you know—a very complex language.” She hugged herself in excitement with all six arms. “These objects are so…well, you've seen them yourself. Some are so elegant in the simplicity, and others devilish in their complexity. I don't know if Dr. Sah will ever figure out what that honeycomb-shaped thing of his does. He's spent four years on it, and may spend ten more. They have so much to teach us, Spock. There is so much to
know.
Isn't that what Starfleet is all about? If I recall, you know your Keats.
Hyperion?
‘Knowledge enormous…'?”

“‘…makes a God of me,'” said Spock.

Bishop had changed since Spock had last seen her. The idea of waiting for anything to come to her was not one the Bishop of nineteen years ago would have endorsed.

“But knowledge in and of itself,” said Spock, “is purposeless. You were an engineer once.”

“That's your father talking, Spock.”

Spock froze. Anger touched the edge of his consciousness—old anger at his father for not understanding his wishes and new anger at Bishop for bringing up those memories. Spock was quickly able to stem it.

Bishop continued. “Sarek was always afraid of what we were going to do. But knowledge is pure. I was not an engineer; I was a
scientist.
I always have been, and there is a universe of difference. True, as it happens, my work made travel between the stars more comfortable.”

“And it has an application now in holding the Sphere together,” said Spock.

“Oh, yes, that too. But what really mattered was that I was able to disprove Occita's theorem. Oh, what a day when that paper was published!”

“On Vulcan, you encouraged me to go beyond my world and seek out things I had never seen before. You spoke of discoveries waiting to be made, things to be experienced.”

“I still do.”

“You used to be an explorer,” said Spock.

“I still am, but the wonders of the universe come to me now.”

“But you are not the first. You are not the one who discovers them.”

“That doesn't matter so much,” said Bishop, “if I can be the one who finally solves their mysteries. Which is more important, Spock: to discover the object or to discover what it does and how it works? No offense intended, but
anyone
can be out there just bumping into things.”

Spock was incapable of taking offense, but he did wonder if it was illogical for him to want that
someone
to be him.

She continued. “That's not science. Starfleet is just lucky that someone with your caliber mind is out there.” She returned to her seat and looked him in the eye. “And there's more, Spock. If you join me here, I will see to it that eventually you will succeed me.”

Spock had never considered himself a leader of anything larger than a landing party. He felt indebted to Starfleet for the opportunities it afforded him and wanted to be of service to it, but he found greater logic in following. Logic was frequently a better basis for implementing plans than conceiving them. Still, leadership of a science station was significantly different from that of a starship.

“I'm doing everything I can,” said Bishop, “to preserve the way I—
we
—view matters. But today, Starfleet doesn't seem as interested. They no longer study for the sake of knowledge. Now they ‘reverse-engineer.' It's not about ideas anymore. It's about exploiting technology. You know what that means: science by committee. What about our motto:
‘Ex astris, scientia'
?” This is supposed to be a place of study, not a tool shop!”

“But is that not the point of knowledge?” asked Spock. “To use it?” Bishop eyed him warily. Something that had been bothering Spock surfaced and he asked, “Was this a test, Bishop? A ploy to bring me here?”

“No, Spock. The system really wasn't working. But when I thought of saviors, you immediately sprang to mind. And, after seeing your performance today, I knew that you had not changed, and so I knew you were the one.” She stood up again. “On Vulcan, you wanted what I wanted: to see, to know. That's why I need you. You think like me, Spock.”

“It has been nineteen years, Bishop. How do you know how I think?”

“You're a Vulcan, and you're still in Starfleet after all this time. I knew what you were thinking then. I still know how you think. You know the value of knowledge. You're a Vulcan; you prize logic and science above all else. Now consider, Spock, which would you rather be: the captain of some starship—or perhaps a perpetual first officer—or the greatest scientist in the Federation? Spoken of in the same breath as Einstein, F3 Red, T'cal.”

This was not exactly the same Bishop that Spock had known nearly twenty years ago. Of course, it was illogical to assume she would not have changed in that time. He himself had changed. Her interests seemed significantly more insular now than they had been on Vulcan. Undoubtedly the demands of the classified positions that had led her here over the years had altered her. Yet, what she was saying made sense to Spock. Spock had let her guide him once before. Why not now? Was she really all that different? And even if she was, that did not make her wrong.

There was the low whistle of an electronic hail, then
“Miyazaki to Bishop.”

The Nasat pressed a button on her desk. “Go ahead.”

“Ka would like to see you about the Medevlan gauss cannon. He's on deck two.”

“I'll be with him in a minute.” She broke the connection and turned to Spock. “Think about this, Spock. We can discuss it more, if you like. You join Captain Kirk, and I'll see you in a few minutes when our shell is up.”

 

On any other space station, it would have been a bar. Here at the Yard, it was just a very large mess hall. Where spirits would have been stored, there was an extra bank of food slots. A female Tellarite took her cup of coffee, walked past Kirk and Spock, and continued to the far end of the otherwise-empty room to join her companion, a female human.

As Kirk took a bite of his turkey salad sandwich, Spock had a long sip of ice water and then spoke. “When I was young,” he said, “I had planned to follow in my father's path. From an early age, I studied all the disciplines that a Vulcan scientist should master: computers, biology, astronomy…. When not in school, I spent time at the VulcanScience Academy's library, pursuing my own interests: plasma fields, dissecting the teachings of Surak…. I also spoke with many of the researchers there. Perhaps you are unaware of the V.S.A.'s conservative approach to science. They believe quite resolutely in the ‘brick-by-brick' approach, wherein every advance is firmly rooted in established and tested fact. All breakthroughs there are anticipated well in advance.”

“I remember something about that from a class at the Academy,” said Kirk.

Spock nodded.
Starfleet's
Academy, on the other hand, was a place where innovation and original thinking were actively encouraged and rewarded.

Kirk asked, “After first contact, didn't the Vulcans initially hold back certain scientific information from Earth, believing we weren't quite ready for it?”

“Correct. The V.S.A. trained nearly everyone involved in early Earth-Vulcan relations. I, however, wanted to see things that no one had ever seen before. I wanted a chance to make broad but still logical leaps. Bishop showed me that there was another path: Starfleet. Under both Captain Pike and you, I have achieved that. The opportunity to remain here is a remarkable one, and a logical step in my career.”

Kirk said, “Well, I certainly wouldn't want to be the one who holds you back.”

“I have always considered myself more of a science officer than a first officer, and I do not particularly wish a captaincy. Lieutenants Sulu and Hadley would make an excellent first officer and science officer, respectively.”

“I'd be losing more than an officer, Spock. I'd be losing a friend.”

“As would I, Jim. But the Yard may be the place where I can make my greatest contributions to science.”

Kirk said, “Dr. Miyazaki showed me a few things here at this station. They have one of the androids from Harry Mudd's planet—well, most of one. They have some of Landru's lawgiver staffs, too.” He looked Spock directly in the eyes.

“Things you had already seen because we discovered them.”

“Exactly. Evidently, your friend Bishop doesn't believe in taking chances. I'm welcome to stay here and have a guided tour, but even a starship captain can't be trusted to see the Yard's real bounty. You didn't see anything new, did you?”

“We talked in her office.”

“I thought as much. I'm starting to wonder just how much anyone will be allowed to share in her ‘treasures.' Consider that, Spock, before you have visions of dissecting a Romulan warship here.”

“There
are
other scientists doing work here, Captain.”

“All working for her. Miyazaki told me that everyone here was personally recruited by Bishop. And have you noticed how few people there are?” He waved at the nearly empty space they sat in.

“She said they are not yet fully staffed.”

“True, but I bet she intentionally keeps the numbers low. She doesn't want too many scientists around.”

“These are high-security items, Captain. It is logical that she does not—
Starfleet
does not—want too many people here.”

“And yet she summoned a four-hundred-and-thirty-person starship to the Yard.”

“No, Captain, she summoned one person: me.”

Kirk sighed. “And the rest of us just came along for the ride.”

“She apparently does have significant authority in Starfleet Command.”

“Authority to do what? Play with ships like a child in a bathtub?”

“She needed me, Captain. Their relays were not functioning. They did not know what to do.”

“But Bishop could have called in any number of specialists to fix the problem.”

Spock had to concede that point. It could not truly be the case that he was the only plasma constraint expert in the sector. Or even the only one with a high enough secret clearance.

But perhaps he was the only one Bishop felt she could trust. Was she willing to deal only with known quantities? She had not been that way on Vulcan. Spock wondered if, over the years, Bishop had become too cautious in her outlook.

The hall door opened, and Bishop and Miyazaki entered. Bishop's tail swished slightly with apparent excitement. She glanced at the chronometer on a wall and nodded toward an out-of-reach comm panel, which Miyazaki activated for her.

“Bishop to Thyner.”

“Thyner here.”

“What's your status?”

“Everything is running according to sequence. Just a few more seconds.”

They all turned and looked through an observation port at the generator satellite. A ring of deep pink light circling its equator blossomed. Then a vertical ring, girdling the poles, appeared. These were then crossed by more pink rings until the sphere resembled the classical representation of an atom.

Spock knew that the rings were an optical illusion caused by the plasma coils becoming charged, but it was not until the beams rapidly grew away from the station that the illusion was fully shattered. Now he could see that they were straight lines. Twenty-four individual plasma lines, like so many spokes from the center of a wheel, stretched out toward an as-yet-nonexistent rim.

In just a few seconds, the lines flew past their station.

“Won't those be a navigational hazard?” asked Kirk.