pause, “What laws govern photoelectric effect, and explain the phenomenon using the concepts of quantum theory.”
The younger man hesitated for a long moment. His answer this time was slower, broken by pauses as he dredged the information out of his memory.
When the three laws had been duly given, McCoy turned to the Vulcan to change the subject, but Spock ignored him. “The formula, please.”
The gray eyes flicked to the Doctor’s face, then dropped. Zar’ s voice this time was lower, as though the muscles in his throat were constricting, and he hesitated between words, obviously groping. Finally he stumbled through.
The First Officer raised an eyebrow. “You need to review that. Very well, what is meant by the critical angle of incidence?”
Long pause. McCoy found he was gripping the handle of his spoon as he stirred his now-cold coffee. The younger man thought intently, then his face hardened and his chin came up. “I don’t know, sir.”
“The critical angle of incidence ...” began Spock, and proceeded to lecture capably for the next four or five minutes. The Doctor glanced over at Scotty, who was listening with a credible amount of polite interest for one who had heard it all before.
Finally the lecture seemed to be drawing to a close. Spock finished with a two-sentence summary of the [95] topic, and stopped. Zar looked at the other two officers, paused for a beat, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating,” he intoned.
The imitation was perfect, but there was nothing good-natured about it. There is mimicry, and there is mockery, and this, thought McCoy, is definitely mockery. It wasn’t lost on the Vulcan, who dropped his eyes, hastily picking up his fork.
The Doctor cleared his throat. “What do you think our next assignment will be Scotty?”
“Whatever it is, I hope it’ll be somethin’ wi’ a little excitement to it. I’m findin’ more thrills in my technical journals than I’m encounterin’ on this trip.”
Conversation continued desultorily between the Chief Engineer and the Medical Officer, until Scotty announced that he had duty and departed.
Spock, who was evidently finding the atmosphere uncomfortable, made another attempt. “I’ve finished reviewing your current assignment in biochemistry, Zar. Your answers were accurate, for the most part. If you have your next assignment ready I could—” Without a word, the younger man got up and left the table, heading for the food processors on the other side of the galley.
Embarrassed and concerned, McCoy attempted a light tone. “Never saw anyone with an appetite like that! He’d put Attila and all his Huns to shame!” Zar returned to the table with a large, meat-filled sandwich. Deliberately, he picked it up and began eating, ignoring everything around him.
When the Doctor was relating the incident to Kirk, later that day in sickbay, the Captain smiled at that point. McCoy shook his head. “It wasn’t funny, Jim . Zar ate it right in front of him. It was the worst insult he could give. You should have seen him—and you should have seen Spock!”
“Really bothered him?”
“Yeah. He got that look—you know the one, when he’s hurt and he won’t show it—and left. Zar just sat there until he was out of sight, then dropped the [96] food, and got out of there. I don’t mind telling you I’m worried about both of them. What could’ve caused Zar to do such an about-face?”
Kirk looked uneasy. “I think I know. I told him the truth the other day—about Spock, and the atavachron, and his relationship to Zarabeth.”
The Doctor whistled softly. “That could explain it—he took it really hard?”
“Yes. This is serious. I can’t risk allowing this kind of thing to affect Spock’s efficiency. He’s too valuable an officer. I feel sorry for Zar, but—hell, I feel sorry for Spock, too. But I’ve got a starship to run. This can’t go on.”
The bosun’s whistle filled the air. “Captain Kirk,
The younger man hesitated for a long moment. His answer this time was slower, broken by pauses as he dredged the information out of his memory.
When the three laws had been duly given, McCoy turned to the Vulcan to change the subject, but Spock ignored him. “The formula, please.”
The gray eyes flicked to the Doctor’s face, then dropped. Zar’ s voice this time was lower, as though the muscles in his throat were constricting, and he hesitated between words, obviously groping. Finally he stumbled through.
The First Officer raised an eyebrow. “You need to review that. Very well, what is meant by the critical angle of incidence?”
Long pause. McCoy found he was gripping the handle of his spoon as he stirred his now-cold coffee. The younger man thought intently, then his face hardened and his chin came up. “I don’t know, sir.”
“The critical angle of incidence ...” began Spock, and proceeded to lecture capably for the next four or five minutes. The Doctor glanced over at Scotty, who was listening with a credible amount of polite interest for one who had heard it all before.
Finally the lecture seemed to be drawing to a close. Spock finished with a two-sentence summary of the [95] topic, and stopped. Zar looked at the other two officers, paused for a beat, then slowly raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating,” he intoned.
The imitation was perfect, but there was nothing good-natured about it. There is mimicry, and there is mockery, and this, thought McCoy, is definitely mockery. It wasn’t lost on the Vulcan, who dropped his eyes, hastily picking up his fork.
The Doctor cleared his throat. “What do you think our next assignment will be Scotty?”
“Whatever it is, I hope it’ll be somethin’ wi’ a little excitement to it. I’m findin’ more thrills in my technical journals than I’m encounterin’ on this trip.”
Conversation continued desultorily between the Chief Engineer and the Medical Officer, until Scotty announced that he had duty and departed.
Spock, who was evidently finding the atmosphere uncomfortable, made another attempt. “I’ve finished reviewing your current assignment in biochemistry, Zar. Your answers were accurate, for the most part. If you have your next assignment ready I could—” Without a word, the younger man got up and left the table, heading for the food processors on the other side of the galley.
Embarrassed and concerned, McCoy attempted a light tone. “Never saw anyone with an appetite like that! He’d put Attila and all his Huns to shame!” Zar returned to the table with a large, meat-filled sandwich. Deliberately, he picked it up and began eating, ignoring everything around him.
When the Doctor was relating the incident to Kirk, later that day in sickbay, the Captain smiled at that point. McCoy shook his head. “It wasn’t funny, Jim . Zar ate it right in front of him. It was the worst insult he could give. You should have seen him—and you should have seen Spock!”
“Really bothered him?”
“Yeah. He got that look—you know the one, when he’s hurt and he won’t show it—and left. Zar just sat there until he was out of sight, then dropped the [96] food, and got out of there. I don’t mind telling you I’m worried about both of them. What could’ve caused Zar to do such an about-face?”
Kirk looked uneasy. “I think I know. I told him the truth the other day—about Spock, and the atavachron, and his relationship to Zarabeth.”
The Doctor whistled softly. “That could explain it—he took it really hard?”
“Yes. This is serious. I can’t risk allowing this kind of thing to affect Spock’s efficiency. He’s too valuable an officer. I feel sorry for Zar, but—hell, I feel sorry for Spock, too. But I’ve got a starship to run. This can’t go on.”
The bosun’s whistle filled the air. “Captain Kirk,
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