“So what is it you wish us to do?” the spokesman asked.
“Do what you do with the fish, and the deserts, and the rain. And bring back our ships.”
“Show me what they look like.”
Guy gaped at the cub, and then looked desperately at Spock. He had been virtually oblivious to the other members of the landing party during his exchange with the cubs, and fortunately they hadn’t interferred with him, but now he needed help. He struggled to free himself from the grip of the singers, and they reluctantly let go. When the release came he almost collapsed onto the keyboard. Only Uhura’s hands on his shoulders kept him from falling.
“They need to know what the ships look like,” he gasped, his body shaking with reaction. “Hell, I don’t know so somebody’s got to take over for me.”
“You were in a telepathic link?” Spock asked.
“No, I was asleep with my eyes open.” Exhaustion had made him snappish. “Of course I was in a telepathic link.”
Spock ignored the human’s ill humor, and dropped down to kneel before the leader cub. He cautiously reached out for the creature’s small, round skull, but the Taygetian displayed no fear. In fact it thrust its head eagerly into Spock’s hands.
“Wait,” Kali said, before he could begin the meld. “Show them Kor, and if it’s possible have them return him to the bridge of the flagship. That will take care of this mutiny.”
There was a burst of approving laughter from the humans. “Lady, I’m sure glad you’re on our side,” McCoy said with a laugh. “Because you sure are a devious little thing.”
Spock got that faraway look that signaled his drop into the mind trance, but he was once again disturbed.
“Wait.” This time it was Maslin. “It’s going to take more than the mind meld. You’ll need the music too. I’ll play for you.”
“Very well. Now, may we please get on with it?”
Maslin began to play. Spock sat in hunched concentration, singing in a pleasant baritone. It was a strange sight, the tall, slender Vulcan locked in close communication with a small, furry white creature with wise blue eyes. The creature suddenly trilled with excitement, and Spock released him and sat down in the sand. There was a moment of silence, and then everyone, even the most mind blind of the humans, was shaken by a powerful psychic call that went echoing through the corridors of their minds.
“What in the hell was that!” McCoy gasped while he clutched at his ringing head.
“Shing—that is his name—Shing,” Spock explained, “has called for the leader of his people. It seems that the uses of the song are dictated by law and tradition, and our request does not fit within any of the guidelines. The cubs must therefore receive permission before they can help us.”
Maslin had once more sunk back against Uhura’s supporting body. His lips were almost blue, and his skin an unnatural white. She held him close, and looked up at Kali. “I’ve got to get him to—”
“Look,” Kali interrupted, pointing toward the cliff face. Everyone followed the direction of her point, and there coming slowly down the cliff was an adult. Its silver coat shone like precious metal against the clear crystal of the rocks. In spite of its bulk it moved with curious grace, and everyone stood frozen as if in the presence of some great and powerful mystery. The cubs gave a cry of greeting, and flopped to meet the descending adult. The Taygetian paused, and caressed their heads with a rough black tongue before continuing on to the waiting humans.
“Mr. Maslin,” Spock said, his eyes on the advancing Taygetian. “I will need you once again.”
“Right.” Maslin pushed upright, and laid his hands on the keyboard. There was a palsied shaking in his hands, and those who watched felt certain that he wouldn’t be able to play. He seemed to draw strength from the keys, however, and the trembling subsided.
The adult, accompanied by a bevy of gamboling cubs, reached the humans, and regarded them out of deep blue eyes. Few of the humans could long endure that look. They quickly flinched and dropped their eyes, frightened by this one glance into eternity. Only Maslin stared with fascination into those fathomless wells of blue, and his laboured breathing began to ease.
Spock cautiously approached the Taygetian and, when he was in position, nodded to Maslin. He was preparing to speak, but before he could do so he was gripped by the most powerful mind he had ever encountered.
“Who are you that you cause the younglings to disturb the sanctity of the Great Song?”
“We are travelers who have come to save you from a great danger.”
The matriarch seemed amused. “We are in no danger. The Great Song protects all. And I believe it is you who have asked for help.”
“That is true. Our companions have been lost in a great rip in time and space. We need your help to return them to our space.”
“It cannot be done. Nothing must interfere with the song that protects the world.”
“But the cubs have already said they would help us,” Spock argued. “It requires only your permission.”
The elder looked inquiringly at the cubs, and there was a burst of agitated singing from Shing. It was a rapid fire of song and thought, far too fast for Spock to follow. After several moments of listening to impassioned pleading from the cub, the older Taygetian sighed, a very human reaction.
“Very well, we will allow the young ones to help. You freed us from the hunters who were disturbing our peace. A favor for a favor,” she said. “But once your ship has been returned you must leave. You are a distracting presence on our world.”
“But …” Spock began.
“The discussion is at an end.” She turned, and made her slow way back to the cliffs.
“Well?” McCoy demanded. “Will they help?”
“They have been given permission to aid us, but the matriarch has ordered us to leave as soon as the Enterprise is returned.”
“Well hey,” Ragsdale said. “It’s a tough break for the Taygetians, but we can’t force them to accept our help. I say that as soon as the Enterprise is back we haul our asses aboard, and get the hell out of here.”
“Aren’t we being a little premature?” McCoy said. “We don’t even know if the Taygetians can return the ship. All we’ve seen are fancy tricks with fish and trees and such. That phenomenon is a whole ’nother ball game.”
“An excellent point, Doctor.”
Maslin lost interest in the conversation flowing about him. He felt horribly sick and weak, and all he wanted was the safety and comfort of the Enterprise sick bay. He looked down to where Shing was once more propped on the edge of the bench. He bent and rested his head on the cub’s head, and was once more in rapport. It hurt less this time.
“Well, little one. All is well? You can help us?”
“Yes, Song Singer, all is well. And now we begin our song.”
He slipped from Maslin’s grasp and joined his companions, who sat in a tight circle about the humans. There was a tingling in the air as if great powers were being summoned into existence. Then the cubs lifted their heads and poured out their song. All those who heard the song—the few surviving Klingons huddled in their camp, and the Enterprise landing party—all bent under the assault to mind and body. People clutched at their heads and staggered about trying to find someplace to escape from the onslaught of sound. Only Maslin stayed erect. He seemed transported, his face alight with an almost worshipful joy. His hands flew across the keys accompanying the Singers in their momentous effort.
Deep in space the veils of alternate time and space that had separated the Enterprise from her own place parted. The ship was seized in a powerful force, and sent spinning from the heart of the vortex to come to rest once more in orbit around Taygeta.
The screams which had been halted in a hundred throats at the moment of penetration burst out, and the intercom echoed with their cries. Kirk staggered from his chair, and stared in wonder at the blue green water world floating serenely in the center of the screen. From behind him came a rush of air like th
e wind off the sea, and Kor vanished. The captain staggered up the steps, and reached out as if to snatch back the vanished commander.
“Captain!” He whirled at Chekov’s anguished cry, and stared in bitterness and defeat at the three Klingon cruisers who had joined them in orbit about the planet.
He almost fell into his chair, shouting orders as he went. It wasn’t fair, he thought with a tinge of regret, that they had to go through it all over again after just being given a second chance.
Chapter Fourteen
Karsul blearily shook his head, and commanded his eyes to focus and his brain to work. He was still shaken by that journey into otherwhere, that place where nothing made sense, and life itself seemed like a futile dream from some distant and unreal world. There were frightened mutterings from his bridge crew as everyone tried to cope with the suddenness of their return to their own universe.
Karsul stared at the main screen, and the hot light of battle once more glowed in his eyes, for the Enterprise lay helpless and foundering in the center of the screen. The young officer leaned forward, excitedly gripping the arms of the command chair.
“We have them now! They are practically dead in space. Obviously the Earthers do not recover as quickly from a shock as we Klingons,” he said with smug complacency, addressing the bridge crew in general. “Khant, ready phasers. Fire on my command.” But the weapons officer made no move. Instead he stared with a white, sick expression past Karsul’s right shoulder. “For the god’s sakes!” Karsul exploded, starting out of the chair. “What’s wrong with you, man? I gave you an order—now carry it out!”
“I think he’s realized that your orders no longer have any validity aboard this ship,” came an ironic and terrifyingly familiar voice from behind him.
Karsul whirled, and leaned back, panting, against the navigation and weapons console. “You!” he hissed, his lips drawing back in a feral snarl. But there was fear in his black eyes as he stared mesmerized down the barrel of the disruptor that Kor held leveled at his chest. “How can you be here?” Karsul babbled. “You were on the Enterprise. There is no way you could have transported here….”
“Karsul,” Kor said with almost gentle pity in his deep voice. “You should always demand to see the body of a commander you seek to replace. Otherwise you might never know when he’ll come back from the grave to haunt you. You never were very thorough, though,” he concluded thoughtfully, and squeezed the trigger. Karsul collapsed in a heap at the base of the chair, his uniform smoking from the force of the disruptor blast.
“Take him away, and see the body jettisoned,” Kor ordered, indicating the corpse with the barrel of his weapon. The remaining bridge crew stared at him in shock for several more seconds, then two men leaped to obey. “Anybody have any problems with my resuming command?” Kor asked sweetly while Karsul’s body was dragged ignominiously into the elevator. “No?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “Good, then we’ll consider that settled. Where is Captain Kandi?” Kor asked, rounding on the communications officer. “Has he been killed or merely detained?”
“Detained I believe, sir,” the man answered with a quaver in his voice.
“See to it that he’s released, and get the commander of that third ship on the line. Shibot, is it not?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“Not too certain of anything, are you, Korax?” Kor asked.
“No, sir,” Korax gulped.
“That’s probably the safest,” Kor confided before he swung down into his chair.
Seconds later the screen flickered, and the heavy features of Captain Shibot stabilized on the screen. “Kor, my old friend,” he cried jovially, after the initial shock of seeing the other commander wore off. “Good to see you.”
“Surprising too, no doubt.”
“Ah, well … as to that …”
“Never mind,” Kor said, cutting him off. His tone was suddenly harsh. “As you can see I have reasserted control over my ships, and since your services are no longer required, I suggest you get back to your scheduled route.”
“But the Enterprise …”
“Will do very well as she is.”
“But—”
“Shibot, don’t make me give you a taste of being outgunned three to one,” Kor said wearily. “We have more pressing problems than the presence of one Federation starship. So please, just get on your way.”
“This will have to be reported.”
“By all means report it, because at this point I truly don’t give a damn about high command. I’ll either return a hero because I’ve solved the mystery of the phenomenon or I’ll die here making the attempt.”
“Ah, yes, I see. And either way my report won’t make much difference.”
“An excellent bit of deductive reasoning, Shibot.”
The other captain fidgeted momentarily, then looked up with a smile. “I think the log can be suitably altered.”
“Good.”
“Oh yes, my congratulations on your marriage,” Shibot said as he signed off.
“Thank you,” Kor muttered quietly at the now-empty screen, and he felt his chest constrict with fear as he contemplated Kali. The phenomenon be damned, he thought. The first thing he was going to do was get back to Taygeta and check on his wife. He wondered what he would do if he found her killed by the mutineers, and for one moment he wished he hadn’t killed Karsul so cleanly. If anything had happened to Kali he would have liked to take it out of the other man’s skin.
The ship-to-ship hail came whistling through the bridge, and Kandi’s face appeared on the screen. He looked tired, and there were several bruises on his face, but overall he looked unharmed.
“Everything back under control?” Kor asked.
“Yes, sir. I wondered if you had any orders for us?”
“Yes, when you’ve finished with your mutineers, hold on the edge of the phenomenon. We’re running out of time, and I don’t want to be surprised by anything.”
“Executions are already underway,” Kandi said tonelessly. “But where will you be?”
“Joining the Enterprise in orbit around Taygeta. I want to check on the status of the landing party.”
“I hope everything is all right,” the younger man said softly, and Kor read the concern and affection in his friend’s eyes.
“Thank you. I hope so too.”
Kor had barely settled back in his chair when the hailing frequency was opened again. This time it was Kirk.
“I’d hoped I’d find you there,” the captain of the Enterprise said without preamble. “But I’d sure like to know how it happened.”
“You are not alone in that. Frankly I have no idea, but when I realized what had happened I seized the initiative.”
“What did you say to that other ship? They lit out of here like a gargoola with its tail feathers on fire.”
“I just pointed out to them the decided drawbacks and disadvantages of being outgunned three to one.”
“He should have called me. I’d have given him a testimonial,” Kirk muttered ruefully.
“I am bound for Taygeta, and you?”
“The same. I’ll see you down there.”
“My landing party remains mute. Have you heard from yours?” Kor forced himself to ask. He hated to betray his anxiety in front of the human, but his concern for Kali was too great to remain impassive.
“There seems to be some strong interference which my communications officer has been unable to break through. We’ll just have to hang on and hope.”
Kor grunted in response, and they broke connection. It would take only minutes to transport to the surface of Taygeta. Then they would know the worst.
“Stop! Tell them to stop!” Spock shouted over the massive chorus that rose and fell around them. “If anything were going to happen it would have happened by now, and their song is interfering with my communicator. I cannot ascertain if the Enterprise has returned or not with all this racket.”
“Mind if I’m a little more tactful,�
�� Maslin yelled back. “After they’ve busted their asses for us it wouldn’t do to call their music a ‘racket.’”
“Do as you see fit, Mr. Maslin, but get them to stop.”
“I’m tired,” Guy said to Uhura. “Can you sing it for me while I play?”
“Of course,” she replied from where she sat next to him on the bench. Guy kicked up the amplification on the synthesizer, and Uhura sang loudly into a microphone. One by one the cubs faltered and subsided as Uhura’s voice reached them.
The quiet was startling to the humans after having been in the center of a barrage of music for the past twenty minutes. The adults were still singing their song, but after the shock of two full choruses singing at full voice it seemed almost restful.
Spock flipped open his communicator. “Spock to Enterprise. Come in Enterprise. Do you read?”
“We read you, Mr. Spock,” came Kirk’s voice from behind the Vulcan. Everyone whirled, and even Spock did a momentary double take, for Kirk stood only a few feet behind them. With him was a full security force.
There was a hum and a flicker, and then Kor was there also, accompanied by armed guards. Kali gave a sob of joy, and flung herself at her husband. He caught her in his arms, staggering a little under the impact, and pressed her into a passionate embrace. The humans politely turned their backs on the reunion, and moved in on Kirk.
“I’m pleased to find you here, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said. “I admit I had my doubts when I realized Kor had lost control.”
“We were able to fight off the Klingon assault. Unfortunately we lost two crew members and Yeoman Chou was wounded during the fighting.”
“Sorry we didn’t get back in time to prevent that. By the way,” Kirk said with an almost comical look of puzzlement. “Do you have any idea how we did get back?”
The Tears of the Singers Page 22