Peak of Fools

Chapter 12 - The Order of Command

The Order Of Command

He was on the Peak of Fools. But this time it wasn't summer, it was winter, and the snow was four meters thick. And he was buried beneath it. He didn't mind so much that he had difficulty breathing, but the cold burned into his skin and seemed to separate the limbs from his body. He was trapped and he would freeze to death. Father wasn't with him. No blankets, no hot tea with honey, no goggles that protected him from the blinding white around him. In a way he felt relieved that Father wasn't with him. He wouldn't have to suffer the way he did. But how he wished not to be so very lonely. He felt an incredible wave of self-pity wash over him as he realised he would have to face death on his own.

But would he really?

Pavel could feel a warm hand that was taking his own hand and held it tight. Suddenly, the snow was gone. Only darkness surrounded him now. It was a bitter-cold darkness though and he had no intention to come back to the surface of his consciousness, as he knew somehow that the cold that awaited him there was even more severe. But the warm hand indicated to him that at least he wasn't on his own like he had been in his nightmare. Or had it been a vision? Maybe he was really trapped by ice and snow. Maybe not on the Peak of Fools, but maybe somewhere else. His head hurt terribly and he just couldn't remember where he was and what had happened. And he didn't want to wake up just yet to find out.

Chekov was tossing in McCoy's arms. All the doctor could do was to watch the young man suffer from physical, and very likely, mental discomfort. The brain-stabiliser was firmly in place on the Russian's forehead and would remain there for at least another hour until his brain readings had been fully stabilised. McCoy mentally kept his fingers crossed that his medical instruments would continue to function without interference. Spock's tricoder had flickered a few times earlier on due to the massive power source the Vulcan had detected somewhere far below them, somewhere in the depths of the abyss they had crossed earlier. But since they had taken refuge within the large metal construct on the platform, the instruments seemed to work a little more reliably again. Unfortunately this didn't apply to the phasers who appeared to have lost all their power due to that unknown energy source. If only they had worked, McCoy noted grimly, they would have been able to heat up the metal walls surrounding them and turn them into makeshift radiators.

They were within a building of sorts and according to Spock it consisted of dozens of rectangular rooms on four floors. The whole construct had about the size of a medium sized Starfleet office building on Earth. The rooms were all empty as far as they had detected from their tricoder readings. They had eventually settled in the middle room on the ground floor, as this was the 'warmest' with 3 degrees above zero.

The doctor held his patient's hand, hoping that the navigator would notice his presence. Bones squeezed his hand slightly and a peaceful smile appeared on Chekov's face. The medi-tricoder readings stabilised somewhat and the CMO breathed a sigh of relief. The ensign was developing pneumonia, there was not much he could do about it under those circumstances, but at least his brain functions were stabilising and the concussion was under control.

Bones focused on Spock now who was sitting next to them.

The Vulcan had pulled his legs close to his body, his arms wrapped around them tightly. In the faint light that the brain-stabiliser emitted, Bones thought he saw Spock rocking gently. Of course, that was a logical thing to do. Movement resulted in the body producing energy, and energy gave warmth. He would be pacing up and down the room himself, if he didn't have to stay close to Chekov to provide him with at least a little body warmth. Good God, what would he give for a double, no a triple, shot of Terran brandy! Or even better, Saurian brandy! At least, that would warm him comfortably from the inside. And it would do Chekov some good as well. Spock of course would reject an alcoholic beverage with healing powers even under such severe circumstances. Bones wondered if the Vulcan had already began his meditation that would prepare his body for the hibernation trance he would have to adapt if they didn't get out of here somehow. But he didn't see their escape from that freezing hell happen any time soon, with Chekov immobile for at least 10 more hours, Spock weakened and their instruments not functioning properly. Nevertheless, Bones would attempt to do precisely that and find a way out of this hostile environment.