Maiden Voyage

Nine

"Well, is this Spock or not, doctor?" Pike was irritated.

"Yes. No. I don't know," Boyce said.

Spock lay flat on a diagnostic bed in sickbay. His uniform had been replaced with a sterile dressing gown. Eyes closed but shifting frenetically beneath the lids as if he was searching for something. The scanner readout above the bed read normal life signs. That was the problem, as was the scanner monitoring his brainwaves. It, too, showed heavy activity.

"I don't have time for your humor, Phil."

"Chris, no humor intended. You see this life sign readings?" Boyce pointed to the monitor. "Those are displaying a basic human readout of a healthy subject. I repeat, human subject. We both know standing here, looking at him. This is a Vulcan. I only met the man once during his indoctrination physical. You would know better than me. Plus, there's this."

Boyce walked over to a large console. He typed in a reference code into the computer. It ejected a data disk. The doctor returned to the diagnostic bed and slid the disk into a slot on the bed. The readout suddenly changed. All the monitor's arrows shifted across the display. Even the pulse beacon changed rhythm.

"You see that? That's Spock's last physical when he reported aboard the Enterprise; what a perfectly healthy Vulcan readout looks like."

He removed the disk. "Now this." The readout settled down, resuming the normal display results they had been reviewing for the past ten minutes.

"I simply can't explain it, Captain."

Pike looked at Spock from multiple angles. The shaggy beard, tussled hair, he appeared different. Particularly when examining his lifeless face, coupled with the emotional outburst on the transporter pad. That above all things was not typical of Vulcan behavior. The biggest question remained. What caused this sped up the growth of hair?

"What the hell am I thinking? Of course it's him," Pike barked. "Easy to verify. Give him a spot DNA test."

Boyce hesitated. "Captain, you know Starfleet's stance on that with privacy? I helped write the policy."

"I understand, but this certainly falls into emergency circumstances. I'll take the heat for it if there's a problem later."

Boyce still hesitated, but inevitably submitted. "Fine, I'll get the gadget from my office."

While waiting, Pike wandered over to the desk beside the computer Boyce had just used. A tricorder sat there. Maybe the sickbay equipment is faulty? He was grasping at straws. The captain flipped opened the lid and scanned Spock. Pike's jaw dropped. Boyce had reentered the room.

"Well, I'll be damned." He muttered in surprise, reviewing the incoming data from the tricorder screen. Boyce noticed his response.

"I told you not to play with my things."

"Will you look at that?" Pike asked, handing the tricorder to Boyce.

The readout displayed Governor Vessey's image and medical file. This is who Spock appeared to be when scanned with the tricorder.

Boyce looked up at Pike. "Okay, that's just freaky."

Pike had a idea. "Is that the same tricorder Vessey modified?"

Boyce glanced over at the table. "Yes, but I examined over two dozen men, women, and children in the colony. Nobody scanned as Vessey. In fact, they all were the picture of health, and Cyril is a diabetic."

"Just like the man laying here?"

"Yes, just like the man here. But the difference being, the scan says the man laying here IS Cyril Vessey."