"Hivar the Toq begs to differ with you, Captain," countered Spock. "Hivar urges that in the event another of the creatures is contacted, we release our captive and accelerate away as rapidly as possible."
A thoroughly stunned Kirk settled slowly back into his chair. "But . . . why? For what reason? My evaluation—"
"The Lactrans are arguing strongly against such a possible course of action," the first officer continued. "Hivar sidesteps. It insists that such an eventuality is unlikely, but that it must be considered."
"I still don't see why." Kirk frowned.
"The Boqus is embarrassed, Captain. It has withheld information, in the manner of the Lactrans, but claims that in this case it was only to"—the first officer strained, trying to translate alien concepts—"spare us needless worry. Hivar now feels that the worry is needful. The Lactrans could not know, but Hivar explains that if the old records are correct, we have captured an immature jawanda."
McCoy spoke for the first time since Kirk and Spock had returned to the bridge. He had remained unusually silent, standing by the engineering station and listening to the strange moans of their captive. But this latest information moved him to comment.
"You mean that monster is a baby?"
"Equivalent terminology has not existed in reference to jawandas, Doctor, but in the present situation Hivar feels it is appropriate."
"Then how big," McCoy wanted to know—or did he, he wondered—"does an adult jawanda grow?"
"No one knows," Spock murmured. There was silence on the bridge.
XI
"Hivar is struggling to recall long-dormant, little-used knowledge, Captain," Spock finally said into the lingering silence. "The estimate of our captive's immaturity is based on such information. The largest jawanda the Boqus were ever forced to drive away was . . . a moment . . ."
The pause was too much for an impatient McCoy, who soon pressed, "Was what, Spock?"
"Please, Doctor," the first officer cautioned calmly. "I am attempting with Hivar's aid to convert ancient Boquian measurements to Federation equivalents." A longer pause; then he announced firmly, "The largest specimen recorded by the ancients was approximately two hundred ten thousand by fifty-two thousand kilometers. That is only an approximation, remember."
Kirk tried to envision a living creature with a surface area five times that of the Earth and gave up. "That's only the largest the Boqus know of. I suppose . . ." He hesitated, and the question came out in a whisper. "The possibility exists that there could be larger ones?"
"As a matter of fact," Spock agreed, readily confirming Kirk's worst imaginings, "the planet-bound Boqus theorized from specimens they observed and far-distant radiation they recorded that exceptionally mature jawandas could grow considerably larger."
"How big," the captain queried masochistically, "is 'considerably'?" He was still trying to adjust to the information that the continent-sized energy-eater trailing them was but a midget of its kind.
"Hivar suggests without humor that you use your imagination, Captain. Theoretically, there is no upper limit. There are no physiological restraints on a jawanda's growth, and nothing is known of their age. Hivar goes on to say that there is no reason to suppose that, barring a collision with a star, a jawanda could not grow to the size of a sun. Though he reminds us that this is only theory."
"How encouraging," muttered a dazed McCoy.
"Never mind, Spock," declared Kirk suddenly. "I have no desire to tangle with anything even half the size of that old recorded supergiant, whether the Boquian mechanism can shove it around or not. But it will take something that size, which can demonstrate its power, to make us abandon this catch. Because I'm not sure which would be worse—fighting off such an antagonist or starting this hunt all over again, from the beginning." He looked forward.
"Mr. Arex, maintain maximum resolution on all long-range scanners."
"Yes, sir," the navigator replied tersely. "Lieutenant Uhura, I want you to engage your own long-range detectors and initiate a full-spectrum sweep in the region immediately astern, with regular adjustments to scan every second of sky."
"Monitoring wave sweep, sir," she declared several minutes later.
Kirk's thoughts then turned inward, brooding on ominous possibilities as he studied the viewscreen. Five thousand kilometers of thin organism rippled slowly aft. Listening to the steady, powerful bursts of energy which still sounded over the muted speakers, he considered the history of man's efforts to turn amplified ears to the stars. Little had any of those ancient scientists realized, when they'd fought to make sense of the strange pops and crackles and hums, that among that stellar babble might be the cry of a troubled child.
"It will not be long at our present speed, Captain," announced Spock encouragingly, "before we enter the first fringe star-clusters along our return path into the Milky Way. According to the information imparted by the Boqus, this should be enough to discourage any pursuit."
"How can it be so sure?" wondered McCoy. "The risk of permanent imprisonment, or even death, wouldn't be enough to dissuade a lot of human parents from trying to rescue their offspring."
Spock eyed him reprovingly. "You are anthropomorphizing, Doctor. We cannot ascribe even faintly human or Vulcan motivations to these creatures. They lie outside the boundaries of familiar xenobiology. Besides, it is likely that they reproduce asexually, which renders the parent-child relationship absurd."
McCoy stared at the viewscreen. "I only hope you're right, Spock."
Days passed during which the captured jawanda continued to emit regular cries. It showed no sign of weakening. On the contrary, as they drew near the outer fringe of the galaxy, the outbursts intensified slightly.
Listening closely, Kirk sought to identify something recognizable as a cry for help in those dips and squeaks of electromagnetic radiation. He failed, with a consistency that pleased him. The purely electronic wail enabled him to regard the thing behind the ship as an elemental force of nature instead of a living creature which might possibly possess a glimmer of the thoughts and emotions Spock insisted it did not.
"Captain," Uhura announced slowly, "I think I've got something." Amazing, Kirk mused, how much was contained in that single word, "something."
"It's at the extreme end of my scanners," she went on. "It may be nothing at all, but we're still in intergalactic space, and I thought that—"
"Of course," Kirk cut her off impatiently. "You've isolated it?"
"Yes. It's definitely not a stable intergalactic phenomenon. At first I thought it might be a very small radio nebula—it's definitely generating strong radio pulses. But it wanders about too much. I can't tell yet whether it's moving toward us or not, but . . ." She gazed significantly at Kirk.
"Keep monitoring it, Lieutenant," Kirk instructed her. "Mr. Spock, initiate intensive sensor scan along the coordinates being studied by Lieutenant Uhura. Let me know what you turn up."
"Very good, Captain."
"How much longer before we reach a star with sufficient gravity to hold a jawanda?"
Spock checked library information. "At least another three days at our present speed, Captain, possibly four. Naturally, that time would shrink rapidly at warp-four or warp-five."
Kirk spent a few moments ruminating on their options. "Contact the Boqus, Mr. Spock. Inquire if there's any chance, however slight, that the six moons could attain a faster speed."
A short wait, and Spock replied, "Hivar says no, Captain. We might as well abandon the creature now to retain control of the mechanism. The Lactrans are again arguing strenuously. They are willing to jeopardize their lives in order to return the jawanda to Lactra."
"That's noble of them," snorted McCoy, "but what about the rest of us who don't care to stick our necks out so they can add that"—and he gestured toward the screen—"electrified tinfoil to their zoo?"
"Easy, Bones," Kirk advised him, "we're not at that point yet. It may turn out to be just a false alarm."
The alarm was ringing l
ouder the following day. Whatever was generating those powerful pulsations was doing so at a steadily rising rate.
"Estimated distance to the object, Lieutenant Uhura?"
She checked her readouts. "It's still hard to say, sir. The strength of the emissions, and by inference the distance separating us, could vary greatly depending on the size of the creature."
A sinking feeling ran through him. "You're convinced the signals are emanating from another jawanda, then?"
She hesitated. "The differences in the type of pulsations are significant, sir, but the frequencies are identical. Say better than fifty-fifty that it's another."
"An inaccurate observation, Lieutenant," Spock commented mildly. He would never cease to be fascinated by the human tendency to offer approximations in place of absolute figures in matters scientific.
"Let it go now, Jim," urged McCoy. "We'll circle far around and find another specimen for the Lactrans."
"Not yet, Bones. This new arrival—if that's what it turns out to be—may only be curious. Maybe it's not coming in response to the other's cries. We've come too far and worked too hard to give up easily. Remember our obligation to the Lactrans."
"Remember our obligation to the ship."
Kirk threw him a sharp look. "I'm fully aware of that, Bones."
McCoy turned away. "Sorry, Jim . . . Forgot myself for a moment."
"Forget it. We're all operating under stress. The possibility of fighting something that could envelop a few Earths is enough to rattle anyone's thoughts."
What was troubling Kirk was not the chance that another jawanda was the source of the new emissions—that already seemed fairly certain. It was the fact that the mysterious generator was continuing to gain on them—without an intercept angle. It was approaching rapidly from almost dead astern.
That meant that at least some jawandas were capable of moving at speeds above warp-three. Given that, there was no reason to suppose that one of the creatures might not be able to exceed warp-eight—the maximum emergency velocity of the Enterprise.
If Spock was right and the jawanda was purely a superefficient energy-converting organism, then it should be as incapable of experiencing the desire for vengeance as it was of feeling parental concern. In that case, it didn't really matter how fast certain jawandas could travel.
On the other hand, if Spock was wrong and the creatures were able to feel higher emotions . . . Kirk refused to consider the possibilities. Long before that he would have to make other decisions.
"It is obvious that we have two choices." Spock pontificated from the science station. "We can retreat at top speed toward the safety of stellar gravity, abandoning our capture in the process, and hope this will be sufficient to discourage any pursuit. Or we can continue as we are and hope that the creature closing on us will become disinterested, give up, or prove unable to hamper our movements."
"Neither of which is an especially appealing alternative," Kirk commented distastefully.
"I concur, Captain. With your permission, therefore, I should like to initiate what is known in human vernacular as a decoy action."
"Decoy?" McCoy echoed. "What are we going to do—have the ship's nonmetallic fabricators make up an artificial jawanda?"
"No, Doctor. I doubt that a visual simulacrum would have any effect. These creatures obviously detect one another by means of their emissions. Sight would be a superfluous sense in the void."
"Go ahead, Mr. Spock," Kirk urged. "Whatever you have in mind can't worsen our situation."
"I hope it can better it, Captain." He faced Communications. "Lieutenant Uhura, have you a precise record of the pattern of the captured jawanda's output?"
"Many, Mr. Spock. Its broadcast has remained consistent, and I've had more than enough time to examine its wave generation in depth."
"How complex is the pattern?" Kirk began to have an inkling of his first officer's plan.
"Not very . . . Oh, I understand. I don't see why our equipment couldn't generate a similar signal, Mr. Spock."
It didn't take long for an emergency engineering and tech crew to ready one of the cruiser's shuttlecraft for a highspeed deep-space run. Lieutenant M'ress supervised the modification of the shuttle's communications equipment, which involved installation of components which would permit the tiny craft to channel far more power than normal into its communications instrumentation.
The hasty alterations completed, the shuttlecraft hangar was cleared and the remotely guided craft launched away at its maximum acceleration. There followed a period of anxious waiting for the shuttle to reach a decent distance from the Enterprise. All the while, the source of new radiation drew nearer and nearer.
"Time enough," Spock announced, looking up from his readouts. "Begin broadcasting immediately, Lieutenant Uhura." As she acknowledged, Spock faced the command chair.
"Utilizing the full broadcast power of the Enterprise's communications equipment, Captain, as rebroadcast out into space through the shuttlecraft's modified instruments, we should be able to produce considerably more noise than our captive does. Hopefully, the pursuing jawanda will consider the shuttlecraft's broadcast as the distress call of a second one of its kind. We are hoping that it will opt to aid the louder of the two calls."
Spock's logic, as always, seemed sound. Uhura adjusted her controls, and soon a second jawanda cry for help was filling space, one twice as powerful as the first.
"Captain?"
Kirk looked toward the navigator. "What is it, Mr. Arex?"
"I believe the second creature is changing its course. Indications point to—"
A rhythmic screech drowned him out. Hastily Uhura adjusted her instrumentation once again, and the volume dropped.
"What happened, Lieutenant?"
Uhura studied her gauges and sensor feedbacks. "Apparently our captive has increased the strength of its own radiations, sir. The level is considerably above what we are rebroadcasting through the shuttlecraft."
"Second object shifting direction again, Captain," the soft-spoken Edoan announced. "It is once again following—and it appears to have increased its speed."
Kirk wondered if they could fool their still unknowable pursuer another time, wondered if it felt anger at deception or was simply continuing to follow the strongest signal.
"Increase broadcast power, Lieutenant," Spock directed her.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Spock." Uhura threw him a look of helplessness. "We're broadcasting at maximum strength now. In fact, we can hold this level only another twenty minutes before components begin to melt."
"That won't be necessary, Uhura," Kirk told her. "Maintain power, though. Mr. Sulu, vary the course of the shuttlecraft—random pattern, simulate erratic behavior. Let's see if the second jawanda reacts to that."
"Course still unchanged, sir," Arex reported five minutes later. "Still in pursuit."
Kirk sighed and faced the science station. "It was a good idea, Spock—only it didn't quite work. If we could put more power into our decoy broadcast . . ." He shook his head slowly.
Spock's head tilted at the odd angle Kirk had come to recognize often these past weeks. "Before abandoning the idea, the Lactrans wish to make an attempt of their own." He looked around. "And they want your approval before they do so . . . Doctor."
"Me?" McCoy was taken aback. "Why mine?"
"Because what they wish to try involves a certain amount of discomfort for every member of the crew."
McCoy turned pensive and finally said, " 'Discomfort' is a mild word. Do they think whatever they have in mind could be dangerous?"
A pause while Spock relayed: "They do not think so, Doctor, but admit that they cannot be sure. It is a new thought of theirs, something never before tried, because the opportunity to do so with minds like ours has not previously existed."
Kirk wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Still, he had to consider the enigmatic threat closing on them every second.
"Bones?"
McCoy looked askance at Kirk. "Thi
s is crazy, Jim. How can I estimate the danger when I have no idea what they're going to try?" He turned to Spock again. "You're sure you've got your 'conceptualizations' straight, Spock? They did say 'discomfort' and not 'disablement'?"
"Quite sure, Doctor."
McCoy shrugged. "Then I suppose I can't object."
"All right, Spock," Kirk said warily, "tell them go ahead." He activated the general intercom and explained to the crew as well as he was able what was about to happen. He clicked off finally. "Tell them also that the second we receive any indication that anyone is being seriously affected, they'll have to stop whatever they're doing."
"They understand and agree, Captain," the first officer informed him instantly.
Silence followed. Kirk sat tensely in his chair, waiting for something to happen. When minutes passed and nothing did, an impatient, nervous McCoy asked, "When are they going to begin, Spock? If they don't hurry up . . ."
"They already have, Doctor. They are proceeding slowly, so as to be certain they do not hurt anyone—including themselves. Don't you feel it?"
"Feel what, Spock? I don't . . ." Something was whispering inside his head. Irritated, he tried to shake it off, but, like a persistent mosquito, it refused to go away. Instead, it intensified slightly, still irritating but not quite painful. The internal humming became a headache, then a throbbing behind his eyes, relentless and unresolved. He started to speak to Spock, but decided not to when he saw that the first officer was sitting rigidly at attention. The more intensively McCoy tried to analyze the sensation, the more the ache increased.
"Captain," Uhura groaned, holding both hands to her temples, "how much longer does this go on? I can't stand it and monitor the sensors as well."
" 'Discomfort' was the right term, Spock," the captain admitted, wincing. "It's not quite as bad as a migraine—but I hope we're not supposed to endure it too much longer. What are they doing?"
Spock's reply came slowly, since he was speaking under the dual stress of translating and this new mental strain. "They say it will grow no worse. As to the activity itself, the proposal occurred to them when it became clear how limited was the broadcast capability of the Enterprise. They are surprised that we did not recognize the presence on board of several hundred additional generators of modulated electrical impulses. The mind of every crew member is such a transmitter.
Star Trek - Log 8 Page 18