Editor's note: Okay, loyal subscribers, prepare to laugh 'til it HURTS! Disclaimer: Chicago Hope characters and settings are the property of David E. Kelley Productions and CBS and are used without permission. Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures, with characters created by Gene Roddenberry. Early Edition is the property of CBS Productions. No copyright violation is intended. Comments to TchrWAM@aol.com and/or Gatorgme@execpc.com. Star Trek 9: Escape from the Nexus Chicago Hope - Star Trek - Early Edition Crossover Story By Wendy A. Munster and Gail M. Eppers Part 1 Chapter 1 An Early Edition "Meow!" Plunk. Kirk looked down towards his feet where the strange, almost alien noise originated and saw ... a cat staring up at him nonchalantly. On the deck by the cat's paws rested an odd-looking black and white cylindrical object. "Security!" screamed Kirk. Two security officers scurried out of the turbolift. "Aye, sir?" they responded. "What are THOSE?" emoted Kirk, peering down past his overly extended belly towards the foreign objects on the deck. As one ensign leveled his phaser at the still placid animal, the other used his tricorder to scan the object. "It's - it's just paper, sir," he reported, lifting the item from the floor and unfolding it. He read the large type words emblazoned on the front: "Chicago Sun Times". "Meow!" concurred the cat. "Let me see that, Ensign!" commanded Kirk, gingerly lifting the paper from the security officer's grip. "Humph!" he grumbled, flinging the newspaper back to the ensign. "Please read this aloud so that the bridge crew knows what's going on." The Captain's eyes widened as the quivering voice of the ensign divulged the headline across the front page: "Captain James T. Kirk Vanishes into the Nexus!" With growing unease, Kirk listened to the story detailing his disappearance into an ominous wavelike set of clouds. Confused, Kirk turned his attention to the messenger cat. Borrowing from his favorite author, he inquired, "To be or not to be, that is the question." At the helm, the navigator, Chekhov, sighed and rolled his eyes towards the Asian helmsman, who simply shook his head. After 30 years, both were used to their captain's overacting, yet it still irritated them. The cat responded with "Meow!" "What does this mean? I demand an explanation!" effused Kirk. "Meow!" replied the cat. Kirk banged his universal translator against the arm of his chair. "Dang thing doesn't work!" he yelled. "Cap'n, Cap'n, I've asked ya no to treat the equipment like that. Ya know how hard it is to get replacement parts away out here in space!" chided a man in a Scottish brogue. "If I may, Captain," interjected the pointy-eared first officer. "The animal is a feline. It is what is loosely termed a dumb animal and therefore not capable of communicating via the universal translator. In the animal's defense, however, I must point out that it is a better actor than you are and has considerably more hair." "You know, you could die again, anytime!" jibed Kirk. The ensign scanned the remainder of the front page for more startling news but found only Vulcan trading reports and an article on tribble breeding techniques. Desperate for more information, Kirk tore into the newspaper, revealing the Metro section. Here the headline read, "Funeral Today for Shooting Victim." The ensign read it aloud. Quickly digesting the information, Kirk concluded that some type of Eel which worked at a Chicago hospital had been killed by band of subway terrorists. "How is this tied in with my impending exile to the Nexus?" wondered Kirk. "This sounds like it took place in the distant past. So how can it be happening in the present?" he asked. As he pondered the possibility of a disturbance in the timeline, a second, smaller headline caught his attention: "Prominent Cardiovascular Surgeon Takes Leave of Absence." "Spock, what does this all mean?" "Don't ask me!" replied the Vulcan after contemplating the articles. "The death of the Eel and the departure of the doctor seem to be highly illogical occurrences. They are beyond the realm that my Vulcan mind can fathom." "Bones, you must find a way to communicate with this feline and get it to tell me what this is all about." "Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a vet!" replied a man dressed in blue. "Captain, I have a suggestion," said a lovely ebony-skinned woman, wearing a revealing miniskirt, finally getting in a line. "What is it, Uhura?" inquired Kirk. "Why don't we ignore all Starfleet regulations and go off on a half cocked wild goose chase and try to find this Nexus. Perhaps we can stop it before it gets you!" she recommended. "Do you think that's possible?" asked Kirk. "I incline to think that there always are possibilities," said Spock. "And in this case it does seem highly probable. If you will note the newspaper's date, Stardate 29341.5. You will notice that this is tomorrow's paper!" "You mean, this hasn't happened yet?" asked Kirk. "I'm really still here? I haven't been replaced by some lanky bald guy with an English accent? This Eel creature is still alive? This doctor hasn't left his job and gone off to his apartment where no one hardly ever sees him again despite the fact he lives less than 10 minutes from the hospital?" "Precisely, sir," confirmed the first officer. "Me - ow!" sighed the cat with relief that these pitiful beings were finally beginning to get it. Chapter 2 A Roundabout Way "Set course for Earth," ordered Captain Kirk. "Uh, Captain?" Spock said quickly. "Earth is three days away at maximum warp." He saw that Kirk understood immediately that by the time they got to Earth, tomorrow's paper would be yesterday's paper. Therefore, the Nexus lay somewhere in between and if they took that route, Kirk would most certainly die. "Options?" Kirk looked pleadingly at Spock, the unspoken 'I don't wanna die' clipped off. "We have three," Spock replied. "We could risk going directly to Earth, then perform a slingshot around the sun to go back in time to save the Eel." "Too obvious. No suspense at all," Kirk pronounced, waving a hand to dismiss the idea. Spock continued, "We could engage the new transmaximumwarp drive. Mr. Scott completed the installation earlier this week. However, testing is not complete, and he still has several extra parts he cannot explain, in addition to a tab 'C' mismatched with a slot 'F'." "I see," Kirk mused. There'd be danger involved in that. Untested equipment. They could "almost" blow up the ship. Scotty could complain about his poor wee bairns a few times. Not bad. But they'd still be travelling toward Earth, and Kirk was certain that nasty Nexus lay in their path. Now, how could they get to Earth without going to Earth? "What's the last option, Spock?" "The Guardian of Forever," Spock replied. "The Guardian planet is two weeks away, and in the opposite direction, but once there we would be able to travel to Earth's recent past and resume our mission." Well, thought Kirk, that fit all the criteria. We're going the other way, totally unexpected. And the portal always made a good story. And Scotty could use the voice work, since installing transmaximumwarp drives just didn't seem to pay very well. He swiveled forward again. "Mr. Chekov, set course for the Guardian planet and engage at maximum warp." "One problem, Keptain," Mr. Chekov sighed, "I'm the weapons officer. Sulu's the navigator." "Ah." He swiveled to the left. "What I said, Sulu." Sulu rolled his eyes. "Aye, Captain." In another second, everyone on the bridge was thrown back into their seats as the ship thrust forward at high speed, then thrown forward as it came to an abrupt halt, before finally settling into cruising speed. "Sorry, Sir," Sulu apologized. "Damn clutch," he muttered under his breath. Aside from a minor detour around some spaceroad construction, the trip to the Guardian planet was uneventful. Kirk ordered a standard orbit and he, Spock, and McCoy beamed down. Spock carried a tricorder, McCoy a medikit, and all three had phasers and communicators. Together, they approached the huge rock circle. "Yo, Guardian, are you there?" asked Kirk. A big, booming voice, that sounded like Scotty without the accent and in an echo chamber, came forth. "A Question. For a few more years, I have awaited a question. Before that, it was millennia, which was much more dramatic, but noooooooo. You guys had to go and spoil that!" Kirk and Spock both looked accusingly at McCoy. McCoy stepped back and spread his arms. "What? It's not my fault, it was the cordrazine!" Kirk and Spock turned back to the Guardian. "We need to access Earth history. The city of Chicago in North America. What was the date, Spock?" Spock told the Guardian the exact date of the Eel's death, which he had located in the Enterprise's computer database. "Hold please," the Guardian boomed, as various scenes played across the aperture. Hitler heiled a large crowd, who heiled back in unison. Edith Keeler was hit by a truck. Billy Joel sang a verse of "We Didn't Start the Fire". Then OJ Simpson appeared on a witness stand, and the image froze. "Sorry. The call could not be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try again." "How and what do we hang up?" McCoy wondered aloud. "A question. For minutes, I have awaited a question. Before that it was years --" "Never mind!" all three shouted at once. "Just restart," Kirk suggested. There was a beep, and then a counter spun numbers rapidly. It went on for more than ten minutes before the words "memory check completed" appeared. Then the center of the circle swirled mystically for effect before becoming transparent. Kirk repeated their search parameters, and the parade of history zipped forward again. It finally stopped, showing a large building on a city street. Barely legible, the words "Chicago Hope" could be seen above the doorway. "The time and place are ready to receive you," the Guardian said. The three prepared to jump. "Wait," Spock said suddenly, his eyes on his tricorder. "That building is not the correct place. The Eel was killed near a platform of an overhead train system. In the evening." "Well, why didn't you say so?" the Guardian grunted, and the scene swirled again, then solidified to a dark, lonely street with poles in it. The poles held up suspended train tracks. A group of young, dark-skinned entrepreneurs milled about, and as they watched, a fluffy pink rabbit banging a drum crossed the street and disappeared around a corner. At Spock's nod, they jumped. Chapter 3 Search for The Eel The three figures clad in oddly cuffed pants landed with a sickening thud on a dank concrete platform. Droplets of water from recent rain dripped from a stEel frame above the officers' heads. From the darkness and stillness, the three time travelers surmised that it was late at night. "Dammit Jim, why didn't we just step gently through the portal? Was it truly necessary to take a quantum leap?" griped the eldest of the three, wiping a drop of rusty rain from his cheek. "First of all, doctor, it was merely a leap, not a quantum leap," chided Spock. "That would be another story entirely. Although, now that you mention it, one that could certainly be of use to us in our current predicament." Turning to Kirk he continued, "I somewhat uncharacteristically find myself in agreement with the doctor here, Captain." (Spock pondered as he spoke that a bit of McCoy's emotions may have attached itself to his katra before McCoy returned it. He determined to make an effort to purge it during his next meditation session.) "It would have been more logical simply to step through." "Logic, logic, is that ALL you ever think of, Spock? What about drama? What about theatrics? What about histrionics?" cried the man in the overly tight gold tunic. "Ah, yes, Captain. Indeed. I see. Well, that is your area of expertise." The Vulcan nodded. "Hum. Fascinating," mumbled the science officer, gazing at his tricorder. "Well?" awaited Kirk. "Chicago, 1996. We appear to have landed on a portion of their public transportation system known as an ... el." explained Spock. "Yo, what you be?" The three brightly attired officers pivoted towards the sound of a voice. Behind them stood four dark-skinned young men with short cropped hair. One wearing a black and white checked jacket stepped forward, looking scornfully at them. "You dudes some kinda circus performers or what?" scoffed the young man as he tilted his head to get a better view of Mr. Spock's peaking ears. Struggling for inspired dialog, Kirk settled on, "Oh, you've noticed my friend here. You've no doubt already surmised that he suffered a childhood accident when a mechanical rice picker..." "Enough!" screamed the young man, probably still in his teens. "Just fork over your cash and whatever the old man there has in his purse!" he said, indicating McCoy's tricorder. "Why," inquired Spock, "if we did have - " he hesitated, unused to the term, "cash, why would we wish to give it to you? You are not clad in the uniform of a fare collector, so I assume that is not your function. I surmise that you are not collecting for any charity such as a mission. Therefore, there seems to be no logical reason to give to you an object which we do not have in the first place." "Say what?" squeaked the teenager. "Man, these guys are like from outer space!" screamed one of his companions. Kirk's eyes widened at the statement. "Well, you pointy-eared Bozo, I'll give you a reason!" said the young man as he reached for a bulky object under his coat. All participants of the confrontation were momentary distracted by a couple arguing excitedly as they descended a metal stairway behind the young men. A slight, sandy-haired man dressed in a camel colored coat was saying something about a baby. His partner, a pretty auburn-haired woman wearing an open black jacket which revealed a red sweater and long gray skirt, waved her arms excitedly, attracting the attention of the Starfleet officers as well as the four teens. Kirk decided to seize the moment. He took advantage of the distraction, grabbing at the weapon the scoundrel had extracted from his jacket. He held the barrel of the weapon in his left hand and pummeled his right fist against the teenager's jaw. Spock took his cue from Kirk as the other boys, now aware of their leader's predicament, leapt towards the officers. Grabbing the first one by the collar of his coat, Spock brought his right hand down on the boy's neck and squeezed. The young man instantly collapsed in a heap of dark, soggy clothing at his feet. McCoy, flailing his fists though not hitting anything, was backing away from another one of the teens down the platform. Kirk went to his aid as Spock quickly dispatched the fourth rascal, this time with an old-fashioned sock to his head. He turned just in time to see McCoy fly past him, landing on his back in a puddle. Moments later one of the young men, also airborne due to a judo toss from Kirk, landed on top of his fallen comrade near Spock. This resistance was obviously more than the boys had counted on, and pulling themselves free from the pavement, they ran down the platform, disappearing into the darkness. "Are you all right?" came a voice from behind Kirk. Spock quickly reached down and grabbed an orange stocking cap inscribed with the word "Bears" which had fallen from one of the attacker's pockets. Stepping into the shadows, he pulled the cap down to cover his upswept ears. "Are you hurt?" restated the concerned female voice. "My name is Diane Grad. I'm a doctor." Before replying the Captain surveyed the condition of his comrades. Spock was aiding the dripping doctor to his feet while McCoy mumbled something under his breath about young ruffians reminding him of Klingons. "Ah, no. We're fine." Kirk smiled at the attractive woman. Next to her the man, appearing to be in his late thirties, was eying the Starfleet officers' attire suspiciously. "A little chilly out for work-out wear, isn't it?" he asked. But before Kirk could respond Spock interrupted, "Actually, I believe Doc... um, that is, McCoy may be injured." "I'm fine!" protested the doctor. "Except for this goldarned grime all over my..." "No, you can't be sure, McCoy, perhaps we should avail ourselves of this generous lady's aid," said Spock. "Look, I'm perfectly qualified to assess my own state of health!" protested the doctor. Kirk, however, knew his first officer well enough to realize that nothing he did was without a purpose. "Spock's right, Bones. Can't be too careful. Maybe we should have you looked at." "Perhaps at Dr. Grad's hospital..." added Spock. The light finally began to dawn on Kirk, who had been quite absorbed by the young woman's eyes. "Hospital. Yes. Hospital," he struggled. "You do work at a hospital, I presume." A rumbling sound came from down the tracks. "We work at Chicago Hope," interjected the slight-framed man. "I don't need a..." began McCoy. "My name is Alan Birch, hospital counsel," finished the man. "Birch?" said McCoy slowly as a train pulled into the station. "Um, I am feeling a bit dizzy. And, ah, my, my heart isn't all that strong. How far is your hospital from here?" "The fastest way to get there would be to take this train, if you're up to it," answered the lawyer. "Or we could call an ambulance," added Doctor Grad. "No, no, this will be fine. I'd just as soon not stay around here any longer," said McCoy. The five stepped aboard the almost empty train car, which rumbled away. In the nearly deserted station the only sound that could be heard was the soft meow of a cat seated like a sentinel halfway up the stairway. Chapter 4 Trek to Hope The Enterprise officers followed the man and woman, and they all eventually arrived at the building the Guardian had first shown them. As soon as McCoy stepped over the threshold, he was pushed from behind by a wheelchair, driven by Dr. Grad who had hurried on ahead, then snuck up behind him. "Now, wait just a damn minute...." McCoy protested. "Sorry, hospital policy," Grad explained. She wheeled him through the ER, which was crowded with patients, doctors, and family members. McCoy looked around, horrified at the low level of medicine he was witnessing. There was blood everywhere, and people were tossing bloody rags and sponges through the air. One of them landed on his lap, and he quickly brushed it off onto the floor. Then he was wheeled into a little cubicle, separated by a long curtain. His two friends filed in and to one side, the man named Birch to the other. Spock held the newspaper tucked under one arm, and Kirk stood next to him to help conceal it. There was a bed in the middle of the cubicle, which Dr. Grad turned down. "I'll see who's on call. Wait here." "Like hell I'll wait here," Dr. McCoy protested, rising from the chair. Dr. Grad had already disappeared, but the man, Birch, pushed him back into the chair with a gentle shove. "Please, Sir. This is Chicago Hope. We're the best." McCoy nearly popped a blood vessel. "The best!? What I saw out there?" Kirk sidled over nonchalantly. "Calm down, McCoy." He added sotto voce, "Remember where we are." McCoy thought a minute. Oh, yeah. 20th Century. Of course. He sank into the chair. And they were putting him in their hands. Ah, well, he'd lived a good, long life.... He straightened as the curtain was pulled aside. A man in his late forties, graying at the temples but trim and fit, entered. His gaze passed over McCoy and settled on Spock. "Hi, I'm Dr. Jack McNeil, orthopedist. I saw you guys come in. Aren't you carrying a paper?" "Yes," replied Spock, who could not lie. He half reached for it, but Spock turned that side away. "Hey, I just really need to see the sports section, okay? You can have it right back." Kirk stepped between them. "Sorry, no." "Can I ask why?" McNeil could not believe the selfishness of not sharing a sports page. It was an unspoken law between men, after all. "Two reasons," Kirk replied. "One, it's ours. And two, you haven't been hired yet! Scram!" Instantly, McNeil vanished like a deleted holodeck character. Birch was taken aback, "Hey, did you see that? You don't suppose he's... he's..." "Extra peripheral?" Spock supplied. "Yes. No doubt." "An orthopedist," McCoy muttered. "Wish I could specialize. Noooooo, I have to know every system in every species, AND be able to learn an entirely new species in 30 minutes!" He seemed to be sinking even lower in the wheelchair. "And I've got one nurse and a couple orderlies with a turnover rate higher than the anti-grav wheel at SpaceDisney. But I'm still a better ---" "McCoy," Kirk interrupted suddenly. McCoy snarled, but got quiet. Birch looked at Kirk. "*What* is he mumbling about?" He was positive he'd heard "SpaceDisney" in there somewhere. He almost sounded like he had some kind of medical training and didn't want to admit it, Birch thought. "Nothing," Kirk brushed it off, "he must have hit his head." He glared at McCoy. Birch, shaking his head, ducked outside the curtain on one side, just as the other side was again pulled open, and in stepped a very dashing, tall young man who fit the 'dark and handsome' cliche to a T. "Hello. I'm Dr. Nyland. Can I help you?" Spock took the lead. "We are looking for the best heart doctor you have." He realized that asking for Geiger by name would probably be a mistake. There was no conceivable way the three of them could know him, except possibly by reputation, but Spock wasn't quite sure what the reputation would entail. More than his surgical skill could be involved, and they couldn't afford to exaggerate themselves into a corner. Nyland stood straight, and considered the two choices. "The best heart doctor or the best human being?" he asked without a thought, then "Strike that. It's irrelevant. Neither one is human." "Oh?" Spock was surprised to hear this. "What planet are they from?" Nyland gave them an adorable half grin. "One is from Mars, the other is from Venus." He waited a beat for the laugh, but it never came. Illiterates, he thought. "Uh, which one is the patient?" Spock and Kirk pointed to McCoy. Nyland nodded at McCoy, "Okay, hop up on the bed and take off your shirt. We'll have someone to see you shortly." Then he, too, disappeared outside the curtain. While McCoy, under the duress of Kirk's glare, did as Nyland requested, Spock leaned close to Kirk. "Captain, I believe we are being run aground." McCoy overheard, "Run aground? What the --" Then he understood what Spock meant. "You mean royal runaround, Spock." Spock's head tilted as he considered this. How had he erred? Ah. "Yes, that is correct. First Dr. Grad, then McNeil, and now Nyland, and we are still waiting. Could they have some knowledge of our mission?" McCoy, now shirtless, lay back in the bed. "Naw, Spock, that's just how medicine works in this time. You see, everyone who so much as peeks inside the curtain gets to charge us." "But we have no money," Kirk said. "Actually, they charge an insurance company that an individual pays small amounts of money to on a regular basis, in exchange for the company paying the large sum all at once that the hospital requires," McCoy explained. "But we have no insurance, either," Kirk protested. "Captain," interrupted Spock, "we do not actually require their services. Do not forget that this is only a ruse to get us access to the two men referred to in the newspaper story." "Of course, of course." Kirk hit himself on the head with the flat of one hand. How could he forget? At that moment, the curtain again slid aside, this time to admit a husky, dark-haired man. "Hi, I'm Dr. Jeffrey Geiger," he said. Chapter 5 Possibilities Glancing about the crowded ER cubicle, Geiger said brusquely, "Where's the patient's chart? Who admitted this man?" "Um, I guess I did," gulped Alan, stepping into Geiger's eyeline. "What?" responded Geiger. "Alan," he sighed, resting his hand on the lawyer's shoulder, "I told you this before. You ... are not ... a doctor. Now get out, please and take these ..." Geiger paused to evaluate Kirk and Spock with a quick scan, "two gentlemen with you." "If you don't mind, we'll stay," said Kirk in his most charming voice. "I mind," replied a surly Geiger, waving at the exit with his hand. Without further acknowledgement of the bizarrely dressed men, the sullen surgeon turned to McCoy and began his examination. "Needles, sutures, antiques, instruments of torture," mumbled McCoy. "You're not leaving!" he called to his companions with a gulp. Spock, remembering the chaos that had ensued the last time the 23rd century officers had visited a 20th century hospital, addressed Geiger. "Sir," began Spock. "As we are familiar with Mr. McCoy's medical condition and you are not, it would be illogical to dismiss us. We can provide data which you might not be able to detect utilizing your primitive instruments." Geiger wrinkled his brow and squinted his eyes at the odd visitors. "You people aren't, by any chance, from Rome, Wisconsin, are you? Because you're very strange people." Geiger's penetrating eyes focused on the men's trousers, which ended in an oddly gathered bell-bottom shape several inches above the floor. He contemplated the possibility that someone had made their pants too long and they had amateurly attempted alterations. "Very strange," he added with a sideways shake of his head. "No, actually I'm from Iowa..." began the Captain. "We should wait outside and let Dr. Geiger do his job," interjected Alan. Lightly grasping Kirk's arm, he gently led him out of the cubicle. "You might want to have Nyland take a look at him," said Geiger, indicating the departing Spock with a jerk of his head. "He looks a little ... green." "A rather unpleasant fellow," noted Kirk as the three reached the corridor where Dr. Grad was speaking excitedly with two Chicago police officers. "He'll take good care of your friend," reassured Alan. "He's the best. Not to worry." As officers approached the three men, Spock instinctively tugged at the sides of his wool cap, making sure that his ears were well hidden. "Capta ... Jim," said Spock, catching the Captain's attention and directing his gaze towards the men in blue with a sidelong glance. "The, uh, traditional accoutrements..." "Noted, Spock," replied Kirk, scanning for an escape route. After listening briefly to McCoy's heartbeat with his stethoscope, Geiger cocked his head and elevated his eyes to meet McCoy's. As Geiger detailed the results of his examination to McCoy, he was impressed with the older man's medical knowledge. "I could run some tests to make sure, but on preliminary examination I'd say there's absolutely nothing wrong with your heart. In fact, it's in remarkably good condition for a man of your age." "What do you mean MY AGE?!" snapped McCoy as he bolted to an upright position, confirming his uninjured condition. The remarkable recovery of his patient was noted by Geiger without comment but with raised eyebrows which briefly reminded McCoy of Spock. "Do you want to tell me what you're REALLY doing here?" asked Geiger, his radiant brown eyes focusing on McCoy like beacons. "My friends and I were attacked in your ... your transport system!" replied McCoy gruffly. "They were concerned about my, my, the exertion, the strain the attack might have put on my heart." Geiger let out a breath, revealing a gap-toothed glower as he shook his head from side to side. "We've already been down that road," he said. "And it was a dead-end." He then eyed McCoy suspiciously. "Is this about..." he paused, licking his lips as his melodramatic mind began to piece together a conspiracy theory. "Does this have something to do with the heart valve? Did Austin put you up to this? Watters? This is a trick, right? Or something the Eel is instigating to throw me off, get the hospital off the hook. The costumes. The strange guy with the raised eyebrows. Is that what this is about?" McCoy, unable to follow Geiger's leaping, disjointed accusations, just stared at the physician. "Damn!" said Geiger, storming out of the examination room on a direct trajectory for the Chief of Staff's office and oblivious to the shouts of Alan and Grad as they attempted to get his attention. Somehow Kirk and Spock, unable to elude Chicago's finest, had gotten the police officers to swallow their tale about returning from an exercise class. They'd promised to go down to police headquarters to look at photographs of suspects as soon as they had determined their friend's condition. While Grad and Alan commiserated near the reception desk, Spock gently pulled Kirk aside. "The paper," he said, expecting Kirk to understand. "Paper, what paper?" Lifting an eyebrow, the exasperated science officer clarified. "The NEWSpaper, Captain, the one that brought us here. Look." As he spoke, the first officer pulled out the Metro section of the "Chicago Sun Times" that he had been clutching under his arm and showed the headline to Kirk. The headline, "Subway Attack Thwarted" had replaced the one about the funeral for the shooting victim. The second smaller headline "Prominent Cardiovascular Surgeon Takes Leave of Absence" now read "Prominent Cardiovascular Surgeon and 5 Others Vanish". Spock handed the paper to Kirk, who glanced briefly down the page and passed it back to the Vulcan. "So?" shrugged Kirk. "Captain, did you read the article?" inquired Spock. "Read, read?" replied Kirk dazedly. "Read. Spock, I don't actually read. That's what we have voice interface computers for." "You mean," began Spock, allowing himself to be drawn off topic, "that you've never actually READ Shakespeare or Dickens? That you've just had the computer read them to you?" "Exactly. Really, Spock, with my social schedule... So many alien females, so little time. Do you think I'd have time to read? But what does Shakespeare have to do with this periodical?" "Nothing, Captain. It was just a progression of logical thought. The article indicates that the surgeon, Dr. Jeffrey Geiger, vanished shortly after he stalked out of Chicago Hope Hospital following an angry, accusatory shouting match with a Dr. Phillip Watters and Dr. Kate Austin. "So?" Kirk repeated inattentively as he gazed at a young nurse who was leaning over stacking boxes at the nurses' station. McCoy, who had come up behind the two men, followed Kirk's gaze, then shook his head and sighed. "Sir!" barked Spock insistently, attempting to regain his shipmate's attention. "The article reports that Dr. Geiger was last seen on the top floor of the Sears Tower, the world's tallest building, during an odd atmospheric disturbance. Observers reported that the ominous wavelike set of clouds which swept over the city (see Section 1 for complete details) just skimmed the top floor of the Tower. When the disturbance had passed, Dr. Geiger and five other people who had been gazing out the skyscraper's windows had vanished without a trace." "That cloud. That sounds like ..." Spock waited patiently for Kirk to reach the conclusion that he had reached several moments before. "Sounds like the description we read of the Nexus." "Then he's dead, Jim." growled McCoy. "An illogical conclusion, Doctor," contradicted the first officer. "Indeed!" shouted McCoy. "Indeed!" replied Spock calmly but pointedly. "Gentlemen, gentlemen," interjected Kirk, raising his hands in a gesture indicating stop. "Mr. Spock, what makes you conclude that Geiger may still be alive?" "As I've explained before, Captain, there always are possibilities," replied the Vulcan, raising one eyebrow. Chapter 6 What's Nexus? "First," added the Vulcan, "it is still tomorrow's paper. This headline hasn't happened yet. And second, he's standing right behind you." Kirk whirled around to see Dr. Geiger glowering at him. "Okay, let me in on it. I've asked around and nobody admits to anything. If you haven't been hired, then who are you and why are you here?" Kirk gave McCoy a questioning look. "What did you tell him?" McCoy shrugged. "Absolutely nothing!" He suddenly realized how that sounded and continued, "I mean, there's nothing to tell. We're..." He looked to Geiger. "We're just wandering circus travelers, out for a moonlit stroll, is all. The attack by the train happened exactly as we told you, and we came here to make sure they hadn't done any damage. I'm fine, my friends are fine, and we'll leave now." "Wait a minute," Geiger blocked their way out, "there's no circus in town. I know, because if there was I'd have tickets for me and Alicia." He smiled. "That's Alan's daughter. I'd love to take her to a circus. I bet she'd love the clowns. Any of you guys a clown?" McCoy and Spock deferred to Kirk, who stammered, "Uh, no. We're not clowns." "Well, like I said, there's no circus in town anyway." He got thoughtful for a minute. "You know, she likes being up high. Maybe I'll take her up to the Sears Tower..." The three visitors exchanged horrified glances. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea..." Kirk started. But Geiger had already lost interest in them as his idea took shape. "Yeah, it's almost morning. I'll ask Alan, but I'm sure he'll give his okay. I'm gonna do it! Hey, I better shower and shave! Thanks, guys!" He slapped Kirk on the back and ran off. "Oh, boy," McCoy muttered. "Spock, that paper said there were five other people that vanished, right? Who were they?" He stared after Geiger, who was walking animatedly toward the front door. Spock unfolded the paper, "Chicago Hope house counsel, Alan Birch; his adopted daughter, Alicia; and three unidentified men," he read. "Oh, boy," McCoy muttered. The three stood there looking at each other for several minutes, before Spock suggested, "Shouldn't we be going after him?" "Right!" Kirk agreed. "And where does one go to shower and shave?" Must be a public thing .... Spock raised an eyebrow, and McCoy just shrugged. "Or maybe we should just get to the Sears Tower ahead of them?" He asked as if he wasn't sure. The officers negotiated their way to the top of the skyscraper where they began their exploration by circumnavigating the observation deck. The three oddly dressed men were getting stared at as tourists with cameras around their necks wandered about. They searched the thin crowd, looking for Dr. Geiger, Mr. Birch, and a little girl. "Do you see them, Spock?" Kirk asked. "If I saw them, Captain, I would most assuredly inform you," Spock replied, continuing to search. Meanwhile, McCoy stepped over to the outer wall and looked down 110 stories. "Oh, boy." He turned pale, and his mouth went dry. "Couldn't I just wait, uh, on the ground?" "Really, Doctor. You're a starship officer. You spend your life in space looking down at planets. Don't tell me you're afraid of heights. That would be highly illogical." admonished Spock. "Let's say I'd just as soon go for a ride in the transporter as peer down a thousand feet!" retorted McCoy. "One thousand four hundred and fifty-four feet to be exact," corrected the science officer. McCoy began to look slightly greener than the Vulcan. "We're sticking together," Kirk commanded, pulling McCoy gently away from the wall. Suddenly they heard a familiar voice. "Jeffrey, this was a great idea!" Alan Birch held Alicia in his arms. The little girl stared around her in fascination. Dr. Geiger motioned them over to the wall for a better view. Spock looked up at the sky. It had to be near. But he saw nothing as yet. Even in the crowd, with the knit hat over them, his ears picked up their conversation. "See, honey?" Dr. Geiger was saying, pointing out at the city far below, "that's where Daddy works!" Geiger dropped a quarter in to activate a telescope, then put his foot up on the base and balanced Alicia on his thigh so that she could peek through the lens. "Alan, I'm so jealous of you. I wish I had adopted a kid, too." Birch smiled and laughed a little. "Be careful what you wish for, Jeffrey." Lifting the girl into his arms, he asked, "Remember when I wanted to take a picture of her vomit?" "Yeah," Geiger replied with a grin, "Well, I'm not that nuts. But being an uncle sure is fun!" With the child getting heavy, they looked for and found an empty bench to sit on. Alicia stood on the bench between them. "Besides, I really don't have time to be a full-time parent. I wouldn't want to leave Chicago Hope." "No?" Alan questioned. "Not for any reason?" "Well, if it burned down, I wouldn't have much of a choice, would I? Or if the place was bought out by some vain, untrustworthy, two-faced entrepreneur who considers wealth tantamount to a person's value and who wouldn't allow experimental procedures or treating patients like human beings, hey, I'd be out of there in no time!" A pause. "But no, Alan. I like it at Chicago Hope." He leaned back on the bench. "I know I complain, and I don't sound like I'm having much fun sometimes, and Kate is, well... irritating as hell. In fact, I was just arguing with Philip and Kate before I left this morning. 'It's either Kate or me', I said." He began to look a little depressed. "But Philip made me compromise." Then he cheered up, miraculously. "Kate gets to stay, but I do all the tricky stuff because but I'm the best. I make a difference there, a difference for the better, and for lots of people. The needs of the many, as they say." "Outweigh the needs of the few, or the one...." Spock finished under his breath. Alan hugged his daughter as she stood, peering happily out the window. "You know, I haven't been balancing things very well myself, lately. If I'm not careful, I could need your services, Jeffrey." He looked at his daughter's face, "I'll have to take time out to take care of myself, too. I think I'll ask the nanny if she could do full time.... maybe even move in. It would be so much easier." "That's an excellent idea, Alan." Geiger snapped his fingers. "Let's go! I hate to put things off." "What?" Alan looked confused as Geiger hustled them off the bench and toward the elevator. "You mean to talk to the nanny? Now?" "Sure," Jeffrey replied, almost out of Spock's earshot. "Where does she live? I'll drive!" The group disappeared into the elevator under the glare of four pairs of eyes - Spock's, Kirk's, McCoy's and those of a tan stripped feline who issued an approving "Meow!" The wind battered against the windows as it picked up. The three saw a ribbon of clouds approaching just before the Guardian grabbed them and deposited them back on the dusty planet. "The travelers have returned." The Guardian's booming voice spoke. "What about the Nexus?" Kirk wanted to know. "A question!" bellowed the Guardian. "What happened to the Nexus?" queried Kirk. "The Nexus continues its journey far from here." "Then, it sounds like you're safe, Jim." reasoned McCoy. "For the present it would seem so," stated Spock, who took out the paper. The headline now read, "Several People Injured atop Sears Tower in Storm". "Mission accomplished, I'd say," McCoy blurted, glad that it was over, as he knelt down and kissed the dirt. "Ah, good solid ground." "Enterprise, three to beam up," Kirk said. END