Worlds in Collision by Judith Reeves-Stevens Read Free Book Online

within it. Nensi had read that a horta recently enrolled in Starfleet Academy. He liked to imagine the hoops the instrumentation committees were jumping through as they attempted to adapt controls for beings shaped like boulders, with minuscule manipulative cilia that could squirt out the most powerful natural acid yet discovered.
    â€œRemember the Pathfinders were a bit of an embarrassment to the Federation way back when,” Romaine said. “The Klingons still like to bring them up whenever a condemnation vote against slavery goes through the council. The unofficial policy is: If it keeps the Pathfinders happy, the interface team can do what it pleases. So”—she waved to the console—“nonstandard instrumentation.” Romaine looked around for Garold. “Is this going to take long?” she asked.
    â€œI hope not.” Nensi smiled. “Why, is there someplace else you’d rather be?”
    â€œWell, yes. I’ve got a few personal things to attend to up top.” Romaine returned the smile, a particular kind that Nensi recognized.
    â€œThat sounds intriguing. Anyone I know?”
    â€œUnlikely. He’s not here yet.”
    â€œThe Enterprise?” Nensi asked with a sad sinking feeling.
    Romaine nodded with the secret, happy smile of someone anticipating a grand reunion.
    Nensi couldn’t believe it. This woman’s father had served at Fleet headquarters. She knew the stories. All the stories. How could she do this?
    â€œWho’s on the Enterprise?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. What could he say to Jacques the next time he asked how Mira was getting on?
    â€œMontgomery Scott,” Romaine said, as if she were reciting poetry.
    Nensi blinked in surprise. “Wonderful!” he said. “Delightful!”
    Romaine looked at her father’s friend oddly. “You know Scotty?” she asked.
    â€œNo. Never met him,” Nensi said happily. “But I do know the reputation of Captain James T. Kirk.”
    Romaine laughed. “So do I.”
    Their relaxed mood vanished two minutes later when Garold silently returned, slid his finger implants into the circuitry, and the interface began.

Four
    â€œYou there, steward, have you seen the captain around anywhere?” McCoy had to speak up to be heard over the din of the reception on the hangar deck.
    â€œDon’t you start, Bones.” Kirk sighed, fingering the tight collar of his shimmering green dress tunic. He was leaning against the nose of a shuttlecraft, as far away from the buffet tables as he could get, trying to be inconspicuous.
    â€œSorry, Jim. It’s just that there seem to be a few more gaudy decorations on that thing since the last time you had it on.” McCoy leaned against the shuttle beside Kirk, watching the colorful crush of bodies enjoying one of the largest out-and-out parties the ship had ever seen.
    Kirk looked down at his chestful of decorations and shrugged. “We keep saving the galaxy, Starfleet keeps giving me medals. What’s a starship captain to do?”
    McCoy eyed the captain’s tight collar. “Get a bigger tunic? Or perhaps—”
    â€œSave it for my medical,” Kirk warned. “I’m in no mood for lectures today.”
    â€œToo bad. There’s enough opportunity on board.”
    Kirk looked to the left, then right, making sure no one was paying him any attention. Then he bent down and pulled a thin green bottle out from beneath the shuttle’s nose. It was already uncorked and half empty. Kirk straightened up and surreptitiously held it out to McCoy’s glass.
    â€œStraight from Centaurus,” Kirk whispered. “New California Beaujolais. Very smooth.”
    McCoy grimaced and held his hand over his glass of what the ship’s synthesizer called bourbon. “Why not offer some to the scholars?”
    â€œThey’ve already taken my crew. Let me keep something for myself.”