Ice Trap

by L. A. Graf

  Muhanti thrust forward, raking the ulu before him. Kirk's sweater parted with a sigh and hung in unraveling tatters. At the moment Kirk pulled back, sucking in his gut from the cruel blade, he reached out and grabbed Muhanti's arm, slamming it twice against his upraised knee. There was the sound of something breaking and Muhanti cried out. The ulu dropped from his fingers and Kirk kicked it aside. One hand burrowed into the front of Muhanti's shirt, pulling him up, and Kirk punched him hard, once, across the chin. Muhanti's head snapped back and he staggered. His feet slipped on the wet flooring. He fought for balance and fell, striking his head against one of the pipes. He landed limp at Kirk's feet and didn't move.

  Kirk swallowed, breathing hard, his eyes flicking toward McCoy as he knelt beside Muhanti. He felt along the man's jaw, then grasped a wrist and waited. After a few moments he looked up. "He's dead, Bones."

  McCoy's eyes closed briefly. "Damn." He looked across at Kirk, seeing the same disappointment in his captain's face. "You might as well untie me."

  The ulu sawed easily through the ropes binding him. He rubbed his wrists free of the sensation of bondage and tried to ignore Muhanti's slumped corpse. "What the hell's going on here, Jim?"

  "We've been visited by our friendly neighborhood kraken." Kirk didn't smile. "That's why Nuie called me to the bridge. It appears she's taken a real interest in us since the accident."

  "You mean that big ugly thing saved my life?" McCoy looked at the wall as though he could see beyond to the seabound leviathan. "I think I'm in love."

  "According to Nuie, she's following us because of the bodies of the dead bridge crew."

  McCoy made a face. "She's eating them?"

  Kirk didn't reply. "Evidently, she thinks we're another kraken, giving birth in her territory. She's not particularly pleased." Another, lesser blow rocked the ship and they stood their ground. Kirk's eyes sought the wall gauge. "He jettisoned the whole lot?"

  "Every last little green particle."

  "Bones, we need that plankton. We can't survive without it."

  "We can't be that far from open water," McCoy half-asked, hopefully. "Can we?"

  "I don't know, Bones." Kirk sighed quietly and turned to face his friend squarely. "Maybe not. There's just no way to tell."

  Uhura's throat ached with shock and disbelief, although she didn't know why she felt so stunned. After watching Alion's white-feathered men kill Nicholai Stenoafter being chased and attacked by Kitka themselvesit should have come as no surprise that Nordstral's lost shuttle crew had suffered the same fate. But somehow, in all the rush of digging out from the icequake and then escaping from the shaman's men, it had never occurred to Uhura that their rescue mission might be fruitless. She glanced over at Chekov and Howard, still kneeling grimly over the frozen body of the Nordstral medic, and wondered if they'd expected this. Something in the focused tension of Chekov's stance told her he had, at least.

  Motion caught at the edge of her vision, and Uhura turned to see Ghyl shoulder past Howard, then lower herself in painfully stiff stages until she lay facedown across the discolored patch of ice where Stehle was buried. Chekov grunted in surprise, hauling himself upright with a grab at Howard's arm. Ghyl ignored him. She lay motionless for a moment, then rose to hands and knees and scanned the area where she had lain. After a moment, her dark mask lifted and turned in Uhura's direction.

  "Chinit Kitka not do this." The elderly woman sat back on her heels and pointed at the discolored patch of ice, cleared of frost by the brief contact with her body. Uhura bit her lip, glimpsing the single horrible slash across the Nordstral medic's midsection. "Chinit Kitka cut three times, left to right." Ghyl's mittened hand lifted to trace three diagonal slashes across her dark fur parka.

  Uhura's breath caught in sudden horror. She took an involuntary step backward, although she knew how small and frail the native was. "The Chinit Kitka kill like this?"

  Ghyl's wail sounded slow and troubled. "Not kill," said the translator after a pause. "Kitka not call kill, what you do to yourself."

  Uhura gasped, then choked as cold air bit through her filter at her lungs. She could hear Chekov cursing across the comm channel in soft, vehement Russian. "You cut yourself open with knives?" he demanded of Ghyl.

  The elderly woman touched both mittened hands to her mask in what looked like a ritual gesture. "It is forbidden for Kitka to speak of these things," she said, then glanced down at Stehle's body. Gathering frost had clouded it to a merciful blur again. "But when such evil touches god, who can be silent?" She looked back up at Chekov, pale eyes steady behind her mask. "We open ourselves with knives, yes. That is how we speak to god."

  "You said you came here to talk to god." Uhura finally understood Nhym's horrified reaction to Ghyl's departure. She tried hard to keep her own shock out of her voice. "Why does god ask you to do this?"

  Ghyl shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture. "When god's time is done, he gives himself to us. When our time is done, or when we need god's council, we give ourselves back in the same way. As the ocean feeds us, so we must feed the ocean."

  "And do you also feed others to the ocean?" Chekov swept a hand out toward the dark green expanse beside them, his borrowed parka ruffling in the wind. White-crested waves rode the heaving surface in to smash against the lip of the long icy ledge they stood on. A hiss of spray splashed up from each impact, then froze to glittering mist and drifted skyward. "Is that what happened to this man?"

  "I think perhaps," Ghyl admitted. Her wail sounded grim. "This is not how Chinit talk to god, but I have heard that other tribes speak differently. Some in the south cut only once."

  Uhura winced, remembering the single vicious slash that had brought down Nicholai Steno. "And Alion and his men are from the south."

  Chekov's shimmering goggles turned toward her briefly. "I hadn't forgotten that, believe me." He looked back at Ghyl. "Do the southern tribes usually send people to talk to god even if they don't want to go?"

  "No!" The elderly woman's reply hissed with disgust. "God would know, and spit upon the one who did the sending. No sane Kitka would do such a thing."

  "But an insane Kitka might," Uhura murmured.

  Ghyl listened to the translation, then let out an ice-sharp keen. "One whose wits were wind-scattered, yes." She slapped a mittened hand against the ice. "Anyone with eyes can see that god refuses to talk to men from above the aurora. Otherwise, why would this one be here where we can see him? Alion believes god's anger is because of humans, and so humans must explain their works to god. Chinit Kitka believe god cares not for humans, only for god's own."

  "Um" Uhura was saved from answering by the faint crackle of radio signal in her ear. She gasped and hurriedly tuned the communicator. "Jimenez! Jimenez, can you read me?"

  " read you " The contact wavered, disturbed by the background howl of auroral interference. Uhura glanced up and saw the crystal-pale shimmer of magnetic disturbance still crawling across the sky. Either Jimenez hadn't waited for the auroras to subside, or the lull wasn't as complete this time as it had been before. " urgent message Enterprise "

  "Awaiting link." Uhura dialed down her outside mike and translator so its noise wouldn't distract her, then glanced at Chekov and made the palm-to-ear signal that meant communicator silence. The security chief waved back at her to show he understood, then relayed the message to Howard. Uhura's comm channel cleared slightly as both men tapped their units off, just enough for her to hear the distant murmur of Spock's voice. She dialed up the volume, forcing herself to ignore the descending wail of the auroras. " has completed shielding modifications. The shuttle will " A drowning wail of static interrupted. " attempt to locate Admiral Kirk and Dr. McCoy first, then come for you. Update on your position, Commander?"

  Uhura spoke in crisp bursts designed to pierce the static. "We're in a native shelter, carved into a large outcropping of black rock, along the shore of the polar ocean."

  "Acknowledged and triangulated." Spock's voice strengthened briefly. "Your p
osition appears to be quite close to the last known fix on the missing Nordstral shuttle. Have you seen any sign of the missing scientists?"

  "We found one of them, sir. Dead."

  "Ah. Due to hostile native actions?"

  "Yes, sir." Uhura swallowed hard. "We think the shaman's group is killing them and feeding them to the ocean. It's the traditional way that Kitka die, but Alion seems to think subjecting humans to it will fix the planet's problems."

  "Fascinating." Spock's voice broke off as another howl sounded, but this time it wasn't auroral interference. Uhura's eyes widened as she recognized the familiar sound of the Enterprise going on yellow-alert. "Commander, I would advise you to move to safe ground at once. Nordstral's magnetic field " Interference snarled through his voice. " a second complete reversal. The probability of resulting earthquakes "

  A screaming wail of static tore through the communicator and drove the Enterprise signal into complete disruption. Uhura winced, looking around frantically for Chekov and Howard.

  They stood near the edge of the Kitka's ice-carved ledge, hands clapped to their ears in surprise. Uhura opened her mouth to call to them, but was thrown back against the hard rock cliff by a sudden shudder of the ground beneath her feet. A sun-washed explosion of auroras washed across the sky as the ground shook again, more gently, then was still.

  Uhura steadied herself carefully, listening to Chekov sigh with relief. "That wasn't as bad as last time," he commented.

  "No." Uhura scrambled to her feet, then glanced out at the polar ocean. It was sinking in ominous silence, its waves damping oddly flat as the water level dropped. Uhura recognized the signs and felt her throat contract with terror. She slammed her voicemike volume as high as it would go.

  "Chekov, Howardget back up the stairs now!" Her voice rang urgently off the cliff behind them, spinning both men around to face her. "There's a tsunami coming!"

  "Tsunami?" Chekov looked back over his shoulder at the still-withdrawing ocean. "But it's falling."

  "Because it's still drawing water up." Uhura whirled and caught at Ghyl, still standing guard over Stehle's body. "Come on, we have to climb."

  The native resisted briefly, her frail fingers plucking at Uhura's hold. "Let me stay! It is time to speak to god"

  "Here, let me get her." Howard picked the old woman bodily out of Uhura's clasp and headed for the stairs. "Help the chief, will you, sir?"

  "I'm all right," Chekov growled as Uhura slipped an arm under his shoulder and hurried him toward the first of the rock and ice steps. Despite his firm words, she could feel the security officer's wiry body shake with weakness as he scrambled up the steep grade of the dark stone cliff. In the distance she could hear a gathering roar, as deep and bone-rattling as a starship's impulse drive. Stubbornly, Uhura refused to turn her head and look at the dark wall of water she knew must be racing across the polar sea toward them. If it was going to be higher than their flight of stairs could take them, she didn't want to know.

  "How did you know it was coming?" Chekov demanded between painful gasps as they hurried upward. The opening to the enclosed part of the Kitka dwelling lay only a few flights up.

  "Mr. Spock said the magnetic field had reversed again and there might be earthquakes. On Earth, that makes tsunamis." Uhura fought for breath as they rounded the last landing. "He also said there's a shuttle coming for us."

  "Thank God." Chekov's unfiltered breath rasped through the mike. More daring than Uhura, he spared a moment to glance over his shoulder. "I think we're going to make it."

  Too winded to speak, Uhura only nodded and took a better grip of his fur-clad parka, although by now she wasn't entirely sure who was supporting whom. The roar of approaching water echoed fiercely off the rock around them, along with the pounding of their frantic footsteps. Uhura concentrated on watching her footing, one icy step at a time. A shadow of rock passed overhead as they came up the last of the outside stairs, then Chekov yanked Uhura to an unexpected skidding stop.

  "Chekov!" She turned to look at him in dismay, seeing the grim twist of his mouth below his opened breath filter. "What is it? What's wrong?"

  "What isn't wrong?" It was a new voice, one Uhura knew although she'd never heard it speaking English. She gasped and jerked her head back to look up the rock-cut tunnel of stairs. Howard stood frozen a few meters above them, Ghyl a darker shadow at his side. Beyond him, a pale figure shimmered in the dimness. The familiar sound of metallic feathers chattered off the rock walls as he moved. A second white-clad figure loomed behind him, harpoon gleaming in his hands.

  "What isn't wrong?" Alion repeated, his Kitka voice snarling out the English words. A blast of wind tore through the tunnel, nearly drowning out his voice. "What isn't wrong since you outsiders"

  His voice cut off as the tunnel darkened abruptly. With a roar that shook the rock below their feet, a wall of ice and foam and churning arctic water crashed against the unprotected cliff.

  "What do you mean our navigation is shot?"

  "Just what I said, Bones." Kirk briefly glanced at him as they strode toward the bridge. "The magnetic reversal and the accident played hell with our navigation equipment. We've got power, but we don't have any way of knowing where we are on the ice maps, and since the tsunami, there's no way of telling how far we've been thrown off course. We need to surface as soon as possible, but we don't know where the ice sheet ends and open water begins. Without a way of finding direction, we could bump along under the ice"

  "Forever," McCoy finished glumly. "And forever isn't an option we have. Damn Muhanti!"

  "Muhanti's no longer our concern," Kirk said sternly. "The lives of these people depend on us, Bones. We have to figure out a way to navigate into clear water so we can surface, and we have to repair our makeshift oxygen generator to supply us until then."

  "With what?" McCoy demanded testily. "Muhanti dumped the entire load of plankton!"

  Kirk's irritation showed in the way the muscles bunched along his jawline like a clenched fist. "I don't know with what, Doctor, but we'd better think of something or none of us will be around to tell this tale!" He hastened his pace, and McCoy broke into a run to keep up.

  All heads came up when they entered the bridge.

  Every eye fastened instantly not on him, McCoy noted wryly, but on Kirk. There didn't seem to be a person alive in the universe who didn't, on some level, recognize Jim Kirk's innate talent for command. McCoy felt a faint renewal of confidence. They weren't dead yet.

  Nuie's eyes widened as he took in Kirk's torn sweater and the shallow gash along McCoy's cheek. "What happened?" he asked, vacating his chair and gesturing for the captain to sit.

  "Muhanti happened." Kirk punched a button on the console. "Crew, shut everything down and get up here."

  "Muhanti?" The remaining navigator's eyes were round. "I thought he was dead."

  "We weren't that fortunate," Kirk replied. He glanced toward the door as two of the missing crewmen skidded into the room. "He jettisoned the plankton."

  Stunned silence met his announcement. One of the crewmen ran a hand through her short hair. "What do we do now?"

  "We're working on it." Kirk's voice was crisp with command. "Any luck in contacting your land station?"

  "For all the good it does," the navigator replied unhappily. "They know we're still alive and damaged, but they're dealing with their own problems. Part of the station caved in and there are people trapped. The other ships are scattered. We can't tell them where we are, so no one can come after us."

  "Is our visitor still out there?"

  Nuie blinked away the shock of the plankton loss and nodded. "Yes. She's maintaining a peripheral, like she's calculating the next place to attack. Sometimes she cruises downcurrent to investigate the bodies."

  Kirk studied the murky screen. It was nowhere near as good as the one on the ship's true bridge, but it was their only link to the ocean around them. "Is she eating them?"

  Many of the crew looked away at the question. Nuie's
face remained expressionless. When he replied, his voice was very matter-of-fact. "She's eaten several Kitka bodies. She seems to be tasting the others."

  McCoy cleared his throat into the uncomfortable silence that followed. "One good thing's come from all this, Jim."

  Kirk's voice sounded very tired to his friend's ears. He doubted if the crew had picked up on it. "I could use some good news, Bones."

  "I think I know what's caused the sickness." McCoy kind of liked the way all their eyes tracked to him. He leaned back, resting his butt on the edge of a console, and crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his sore hand into the crook of his elbow. "It's Nordstral's magnetic field."

  Kirk's eyebrows rose. "I beg your pardon?"

  "The magnetic field, Jim. Something Muhanti said while he was preparing to dice me up clued me into it. I'll need some corroboration from Spock just to make certain, of course." McCoy was pleased to catch himself talking as though they were going to be rescued. Maybe someplace deep down inside, he believed it. "Muhanti said there used to be no magnetic storms here, and that the boreal winds have gotten worse. Back in the late twentieth century, studies were done on the effect of magnetic fields on people's health. There was a lot of evidence to support the notion that not only were human beings affected physically, but mentally as well. Those findings led to new rulings in housing materials, the laying of telecommunication lines " One shoulder lifted. "A lot of things changed, but not before a lot of people were harmed. As I recall, the symptoms for overexposure to strong magnetic fields were pretty similar to what's been going on around here."

  Kirk sat back, shaking his head. "If you're right, and the magnetic field is causing the erratic behavior, why isn't everyone affected?"