The Entropy Effect

“Jim, the whole matter is absurd.” Spock collected himself instantly and continued, the model of Vulcan calm again. “Dr. Mordreaux is an ethical being. More than that, he is a theoretical scientist, not an experimental one. He was always more likely to work with pencil and paper, even in preference to a computer. Still, supposing he did branch off into experimental work, it is preposterous to think that he would endanger self-aware subjects of any species. I think it unlikely in the extreme that he has metamorphosed into an insane murderer.”

“Do you think you can prove him innocent?”

“I would like the chance to discover why he is about to be transported to a rehabilitation center with such dispatch and under such secrecy.”

Kirk did not much like the idea of meddling in the business of civilian authorities, but for one thing they had meddled with his ship and for another he was as aware as Spock that if Mordreaux entered a rehabilitation colony he would not emerge improved. He might be happier, he would certainly no longer be troublesome, but he would not be a brilliant physicist anymore, either.

“All right, Spock. There’s something weird about this whole business. Maybe your professor is being railroaded. At the very least we can nose around.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Kirk stopped and pulled out his communicator.

“Kirk to Enterprise . Lieutenant Uhura, lift radio silence.”

“ Enterprise, Uhura here. Is everything all right, Captain?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but there’s no emergency. Secure from general quarters. I’ll be staying down on Aleph for a while, but you can reach me if you need me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Kirk out.” He hesitated a moment, then thought better of broadcasting his message to the Enterprise’s security commander.

“Mr. Spock, please tell Commander Flynn to back us up if Mr. Braithewaite questions the reasons for our staying here. I think a day is about as long as I can justify, but arrange a rotating skeleton crew so everybody gets some time off. Including you. And particularly Mr. Scott; he’s not to spend the layover buried in the engines.”

“All right, Captain.”

“I assume a day on Aleph and a leisurely trip to Rehab Seven will suit your plans?”

“Admirably, Captain.”

The spacious plaza gave the illusion of being under an open sky. In reality it was deep beneath the surface of Aleph Prime. With its mild, random breezes, the scent of flowers in the air, grass a little shaggy, inviting strolls, it was so perfect that Jim Kirk knew he would not be able to tolerate it for long. But until the cliches became obtrusive, he could enjoy it for what it was, the re-creation of a planet’s surface by someone who had never walked in the open on a living world. Besides, if he decided he did not like it, he could always go to one of the other parks, one designed for the non-human inhabitants of the station. Jim Kirk glanced around at the nearly empty plaza and wondered if an inhabitant of Gamma Draconis VII would find the nearby tunnel-maze enjoyable for a while, then gradually come to the conclusion that it was just slightly too uniformly-dug, just triflingly too damp, and just faintly, barely perceptibly, too cleverly predictably complex.

Then he saw Hunter, walking out of the shadows of a small grove of trees, and he forgot about tunnel-mazes, about the inhabitants of 7 Draconis VH, and even about the balmy, erratic breezes.

Hunter waved, and continued on toward him.

They stopped a few paces apart and looked each other up and down.

Hunter wore black uniform pants and boots that were regulation enough, but she also had on a blue silk shirt and a silver mesh vest, and, of course, the red feather in her hair.

“Still collecting demerits, I see,” Jim said.

“And you’re still awfully regular navy, you know. Some things never change.” She paused. “And I guess I’m glad of it.”

They both laughed at the same time, then embraced, hugging for the simple pleasure of seeing each other again. It was not like the old days, and Jim regretted that. He wondered if she did, too. He was afraid to ask, afraid to chance hurting her, or himself, or to put more of the kind of strain on their friendship that had nearly ended it before.

They fell into old patterns with only a little awkwardness, in the way of old friends, with good times and bad times between them, and years to catch up on. They walked together in the park for hours: it came to about an hour per year, by the time they worked their way to the present.

“You didn’t get orders to come to Aleph, did you?” Jim asked.

“No. This is the only outpost in my sector that will paint Aerfen the way I want it, without throwing stupid regulations at me. And my crew likes it for liberty. Gods know they deserve some right now. How about you?”

“Weirdest thing that ever happened. This fellow, Ian Braithewaite—”

Hunter laughed. “Did he pounce on you, too? He wanted me to pack up some criminal and take him to Rehab Seven, in Aerfen !”

“What did you tell him?” Jim asked, as embarrassment colored his face.