by James Blish
Daystrom suddenly turned, shouting. "You can't destroy the unit, Kirk! You can't destroy me!"
Kirk said steadily. "It's a danger to human life. It has to be destroyed."
Daystrom gave a wild laugh. "Destroyed, Kirk? We're invincible!" He pointed a shaking finger at the empty screen. "You saw what we've done! Your mighty Starships . . . four toys to be crushed as we chose."
Spock, sliding in behind Daystrom, reached out with the Vulcan neck pinch. Daystrom sagged to the floor.
Kirk said, "Get him down to Sickbay."
McCoy nodded and waved in two crewmen. Limp, half-conscious, Daystrom was borne to the elevator. Spock spoke to McCoy. "Doctor, if Daystrom is psychotic, the engrams he impressed on the computer carry that psychosis, too, his brilliance and his insanity."
"Yes," McCoy said, "both."
Kirk stared at him, then nodded quickly. "Take care of him, Bones." He turned back to Chekov and Sulu. "Battle status."
"The other three ships are holding station out of range, sir," Sulu said. He switched on the screen. "There, sir. Excalibur looks dead."
The broken ship hung idle in space, scarred, un-moving. Spock, eyeing it, said, "Commodore Wesley is undoubtedly awaiting orders from Starfleet. Those orders will doubtless command our destruction, Captain."
"If we can be destroyed with M-5 in control. But it gives us some time. What about Bones's theory that the computer could be insane?"
"Possible. But like Dr. Daystrom, it would not know it is insane."
"Spock, all its attention has been tied up in diverting anything we do to tamper with it—and with the battle maneuvers. What if we ask it a perfectly reasonable question which, as a computer, it must answer? Something nice and infinite in answer?"
"Computation of the square root of two, perhaps. I don't know how much of M-5's system would be occupied in attempting to answer the problem."
"Some part would be tied up with it—and that might put it off-guard just long enough for us to get at it."
Spock nodded; and Kirk, moving fast to the library-computer, threw the switch.
"M-5 tie-in. This is Captain Kirk. Point of information."
"M-5. Pose your question."
"Compute to the last decimal place the square root of two."
"M-5. This is an irrational square root, a decimal fraction with an endless series of non-repeating digits after the decimal point. Unresolvable."
Kirk glanced at Spock whose eyebrows were clinging to his hairline in astonishment. He addressed the computer again. "M-5, answer the question."
"M-5. It serves no purpose. Explain reason for request."
"Disregard," Kirk said. Shaken, he snapped off the switch. Spock said, "Fascinating. Daystrom has indeed given it human traits . . . it is suspicious, and I believe will be wary of any other such requests."
Uhura turned from her board. "Captain, Lexington is receiving a message from Starfleet." She paused, listening, staring at Kirk in alarm.
"Go on, Lieutenant."
Wordlessly, she moved a switch and the filtered voice said, "You are authorized to use all measures available to destroy the Enterprise. Acknowledge, Lexington,"
Wesley's answer came—shocked, reluctant. "Sir, I . . ." He paused. "Acknowledged. Lexington out."
Kirk spoke slowly. "They've just signed their own death warrants. M-5 will have to kill them to survive."
"Captain," Spock went on, "when Daystrom spoke to it, that word was stressed. M-5 said it must survive. And Daystrom used the same words several times."
"Every living thing wants to survive, Spock." He broke off, realizing. "But the computer isn't alive. Daystrom must have impressed that instinctive reaction on it, too. What if it's still receptive to impressions? Suppose it absorbed the regret Daystrom felt for the deaths it caused? Possibly even guilt."
Interrupting, Chekov's voice was urgent. "Captain, the ships are coming within range again!"
Uhura whirled from her board. "Picking up inter-ship transmission, sir. I can get a visual on it." Even as she spoke, Wesley's image appeared on the screen from the Lexington's damaged bridge. "To all ships," he said. "The order is attack. Maneuver and fire at will." He paused briefly. Then he added shortly. "That is all. Commence attack. Wesley out."
Spock broke the silence. "I shall regret serving aboard the instrument of Commodore Wesley's death."
A muscle jerked in Kirk's jaw. "The Enterprise is not going to be the instrument of his death!" As he spoke, he reactivated the M-5's switch.
"M-5 tie-in. This is Captain Kirk. You will be under attack in a few moments."
"M-5," said the computer voice. "Sensors have recorded approach of ships."
"You have already rendered one Starship either dead or hopelessly crippled. Many lives were lost."
"M-5. This unit must survive."
"Why?"
"This unit is the ultimate achievement in computer evolution. This unit is a superior creation. This unit must survive."
Kirk, aware of the tension of his crew, heard Spock say, "Sir, attack force ships almost within phaser range!" With an effort of will that broke the sweat out on him, he dismissed the awful meaning of the words to concentrate on the M-5.
"Must you survive by murder?" he asked it.
"This unit cannot murder."
"Why not?"
Toneless, metallic, the computer voice said, "This unit must replace man so man may achieve. Man must not risk death in space or dangerous occupations. Man must not be murdered."
"Why?"
"Murder is contrary to the laws of man and God."
"You have murdered. The Starship Excalibur which you destroyed—"
Spock interrupted swiftly. "Its bearing is 7 mark 34, Captain."
Kirk nodded. "The hulk is bearing 7 mark 34, M-5 tie-in. Scan it. Is there life aboard?"
The answer came slowly. "No life."
"Because you murdered it," Kirk said. He wiped the wet palms of his hands on his shirt. This was it—the last throw of the loaded dice he'd been given. "What," he said deliberately, "is the penalty for murder?"
"Death."
"How will you pay for your acts of murder?"
"This unit must die."
Kirk grasped the back of the chair at the computer-library station. "M-5 . . ." he began and stopped.
Chekov shouted. "Sir, deflector shields have dropped!"
"And all phaser power is gone, Captain!"
Scott whirled from his station. "Power off, Captain! All engines!"
Panels all over the bridge were going dark.
Spock looked at Kirk. "Machine suicide. M-5 has killed itself, sir, for the sin of murder."
Kirk nodded. He glanced at the others. Then he strode to Uhura's station. "Spock, Scotty . . . before it changes its mind . . . get down to Emergency Manual Monitor and take out every hook-up that makes M-5 run! Lieutenant Uhura, intraship communications."
Snapping a button, she opened the loudspeaker for him. He picked up the mike that amplified his voice. "This is the Captain speaking. In approximately one minute, we will be attacked by Federation Starships. Though the M-5 unit is no longer in control of this vessel, neither do we control it. It has left itself and us open to destruction. For whatever satisfaction we can take from it, we are exchanging our nineteen lives for the murder of over one thousand fellow Starship crewmen." He nodded to Uhura who closed the channel. Then all eyes focused on the screen.
It showed the Lexington approaching, growing steadily in size. Kirk, taut as an overstretched wire, stared at it, fists clenched. Uhura looked at him. "Captain . . ." Her board beeped—and she snapped a switch over.
Wesley's tight face appeared on the viewing screen, "Report to all ships," he said. "Hold attack, do not fire." He straightened in his command chair. "I'm going to take a chance—a chance that the Enterprise is not just playing dead. The Transporter Room will prepare to beam me aboard her."
There was a shout of released joy from Chekov. Kirk, at a beep from the inte
rcom, moved over to it slowly. "Kirk here."
"Spock, sir. The force field is gone. M-5 is neutralized."
Kirk leaned against the bridge wall. The sudden relaxation sweeping through him was a relief almost as painful as the tension. "Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Spock."
In Sickbay, Daystrom lay so still in his bed that the restraints that held him hardly seemed needed. Haggard, his eyes sunk in dark caverns, they stared at nothing, empty as a dead man's. McCoy shook his head. "He'll have to be committed to a total rehabilitation center. Right now he's under heavy sedation.
Spock spoke. "I would say his multitronic unit is in approximately the same shape at the moment."
McCoy leaned over Daystrom. "He is suffering deep melancholia and guilt feelings. He identifies totally with the computer . . . or it with him. I'm not sure which. He is not a vicious man. The idea of killing is abhorrent to him."
"That's what I was hoping for when I forced the M-5 to see it had committed murder. Daystrom himself told it such an act was offense against the laws of God and man. It is because he knew that . . . the computer that carried his engrams also knew it." He bent to draw a blanket closer about the motionless body.
Outside in the corridor, Spock paused. "What I don't understand is why you felt that the attacking ships would not fire once they saw the Enterprise apparently dead and powerless. Logically, it's the sort of trap M-5 would have set for them."
"I wasn't sure," Kirk said. "Any other commander might simply have destroyed us without question to make sure it wasn't a trap. But I know Bob Wesley. I knew he wouldn't attack without making absolutely sure there was no other way. His logical' selection was compassion. It was humility, Mr. Spock."
The elevator began its move and McCoy said, They are qualities no machine ever had. Maybe they are the two things that keep men ahead of machines. Care to debate that, Spock?"
"No, Doctor. I merely maintain that machines are more efficient than human beings. Not better . . . they are not gods. Nor are human beings."
McCoy said, "I was merely making conversation, Spock."
The Vulcan straightened. "It would be most interesting to impress your engrams on a computer, Doctor. The resulting torrential flood of illogic would be most entertaining."
"Dear friends," Kirk said, "we all need a rest." He stepped out of the elevator. Reaching his command chair, he sank into it. "Mr. Sulu, take us back to the space station. Ahead, Warp 2."
THAT WHICH SURVIVES
(John Meredyth Lucas and D. C. Fontana)
* * *
The planet on the Enterprise screen was an enigma.
Though its age was comparatively young, its vegetation was such as could only evolve on a much older world. Nor could its Earthlike atmosphere be reconciled with the few million years of the existence it had declared to the Starship's sensors. Kirk, over at Spock's station, frowned as he checked the readings. "If we're to give Federation an accurate report, this phenomenon bears investigation, Mr. Spock. Dr. McCoy and I will beam down for a landing survey. We'll need Senior Geologist D'Amato." He was still frowning when he spoke to Uhura. Teed beamdown coordinates to the Transporter Ensign, Lieutenant." Crossing swiftly to the elevator, he turned his head. "Mr. Sulu, you'll accompany me." At the door, he paused. "Mr. Spock, you have the con."
The elevator door slid closed; and Spock, crossing to the command chair, hit the intercom. "Lieutenant Radha, report to the bridge immediately."
In the Transporter Room, McCoy and D'Amato were busy checking equipment. Nodding to McCoy, Kirk addressed the geologist. "Mr. D'Amato, this expedition should be a geologist's dream. The youth of this planet is not its sole recommendation to you. If Mr. Spock is correct, you'll have a report to startle the Fifth Inter-Stellar Geophysical Conference."
"Why, Jim? What is it?" McCoy said.
"Even Spock can't explain its anomalies."
They had taken their positions on the Transporter platform; and Kirk called "Energize!" to the Ensign at the console controls. The sparkle of dematerialization began—and Kirk, amazed, saw a woman, a strange woman, suddenly appear in the space between the platform and the Ensign. She was dark, lovely, with a misty, dreamlike quality about her. He heard her cry out, "Wait! You must not go!" Then, just as he went into shimmer, she moved to the console, her arms outstretched. Before the Ensign could draw back, she touched him. He gasped, wrenched by convulsion—and slumped to the deck. Kirk disappeared, his eyes blank with horror.
It remained with him as they materialized on the planet. Who was she? How had she gained access to the Enterprise? Another enigma. He had no eyes for the blood-red flowers around him, bright against canary-yellow grass. For the rest the planet seemed to be a place of a red, igneous rock, tortured into looming shapes. Far off, black eroded hills jutted up against the horizon. He flipped open his communicator.
"Kirk to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise"
McCoy spoke, his voice shocked, "Jim, did you see what I saw?"
"Yes, I saw. That woman attacked Ensign Wyatt. Enterprise, come in."
The ground shuddered beneath their feet—and the entire planet seemed to go into paroxysm. Hundreds of miles above them, the Enterprise trembled like a toy in a giant's hand. There was a bright flash. It vanished.
The landing party sprawled on the ground as the planet's surface continued to pitch and buck. Then it was all over. Sulu, clambering to his feet, said, "What kind of earthquakes do they have in this place?"
Bruised, Kirk got up. "They can't have many like that without tearing the planet apart."
D'Amato spoke. "Captain, just before this tremor—if that's what it was—and it's certainly like no seismic disturbance I've ever seen—I got a tricorder reading of almost immeasurable power. It's gone now."
"Would seismic stress have accounted for it?"
Theoretically, no. The kind of seismic force we felt should have raised new mountains, leveled old ones."
Kirk stooped for his dropped communicator. "Let's see what sort of reading the ship got." He opened it. "Kirk to Enterprise." He waited. Then he tried again. "Kirk to Enterpriser There was another wait. "Enterprise, come in! Do you read me, Enterprise?" He looked at the communicator. "The shock," he said, "may have damaged it."
Sulu had been working his tricorder. Now he looked up, his face stricken. "Captain, the Enterprise—it's gone!"
D'Amato was frantically working his controls. Kirk strode to Sulu, moving dials on his instrument. Awed, D'Amato looked at him. "It's true, Captain. There's nothing there."
"Nothing there? Gone? What the devil do you mean?" McCoy cried. "How could the Enterprise be gone?" He whirled to Kirk. "What does it mean, Jim?"
"It means," Kirk said slowly, "we're stranded."
Hundreds of miles above, the heaving Enterprise had steadied. On the bridge, people struggled up from the deck. Spock held the back of his cracked head and Uhura looked at him anxiously. "Mr. Spock, are you all right?"
"I believe no permanent damage is done, Lieutenant."
"What happened?"
"The occipital area of my head impacted with the arm of the chair."
"Sir, I meant what happened to us?"
"That we have yet to ascertain, Lieutenant." He was rubbing the side of his head when the Lieutenant, staring at the screen, cried, "Mr. Spock, the planet's gone!"
Scott leaped from his station. "But the Captain! And the others! They were on it!" He eyed the empty screen, his face set. "There's no trace of it at all!"
"Maybe the whole system went supernova," Radha said, her voice shaking. "Those power readings . . ."
"Please refrain from wild speculation," Spock said. "Mr. Scott, engine status reports. Lieutenant Uhura, check damage control. Lieutenant Radha, hold this position. Scan for debris from a possible explosion."
On the planet speculation was also running wild. Sulu, staring at his tricorder, said, "The Enterprise must have blown up."
"Mr. Sulu, shall we stop guessing and try to work out a pattern? I get no rea
ding of high energy concentrations around the planet. If the Enterprise had blown up, there would be high residual radiation."
"Could the Enterprise have hit us, Jim? I mean," McCoy said, "hit the planet?"
Sulu said, "Once in Siberia there was a meteor so great it flattened whole forests and—"
"If I'd wanted a Russian-history lesson," Kirk snapped, "I'd have brought Mr. Chekov. We face the problem of survival, Mr. Sulu. Without the Enterprise, we've got to find food and water—and find it fast. I want a detailed analysis of this planet. And I want it now."
His men returned to work.
Up on the Enterprise, normal functioning had finally been restored. On the bridge, tension had begun to lessen when Uhura turned from her board. "Mr. Spock, Ensign Wyatt, the Transporter officer, is dead."
"Dead?" He punched the intercom button. "Spock to Sickbay."
"Sickbay, Dr. M'Benga, sir."
"Report on the death of the Transporter officer."
"We're not sure yet. Dr. Sanchez is conducting the autopsy now."
"Full report as soon as possible." Spock turned. "Mr. Scott, have the Transporter checked for possible malfunction."
"Aye, sir."
Radha broke in. "No debris of any kind, sir. I made two full scans. If the planet had broken up, we'd have some sign." She hesitated. "What bothers me is the stars, Mr. Spock."
He looked up from his console. "The stars?"
"Yes, sir. They're wrong."
"Wrong, Lieutenant?"
"Wrong, sir. Look."
The screen showed a distant pattern of normal star movement; but in the immediate foreground, there were no stars. Radha said, "Here's a replay of the star arrangement just before the explosion, sir." A full starfield appeared on the screen.
"It resembles a positional change," Spock said.
"It doesn't make any sense but I'd say that somehow—in a flash—we've been knocked a thousand light years away from where we were."
Spock went swiftly to his viewer. "Nine hundred and ninety point seven light years to be exact, Lieutenant."