The Three-Minute Universe

by Barbara Paul

  The Sacker looked up at him. "Is it the Scott?" His voice was weak.

  "Medteam!" Scotty roared, and heard someone pass on his call. "Aye, laddie, I'm here. Lie still, now. Help is on the way."

  "'Twill be no use. I am dyin'. But I'm glad o' seein' ye once more."

  "Enough o' that! I won't have ye dyin' on me."

  In answer Mr. Green lifted his hands from his side and showed Scotty a great gaping hole in his sac membrane.

  Scotty didn't hesitate. He ripped off his helmet and started pulling off the brown tunic he was wearing. He wadded the tunic into a ball. "Now try to hold still, lad. If I touch ye I willna be any use to either o' us." Carefully he poked and prodded the tunic into place; Mr. Green jerked once but didn't cry out. "Sorry I hurt ye," Scotty said. "Now y' are goin' to have to hold it in place yourself. I'm takin' me hands away … now."

  The Sacker placed his own hands over the tunic. He winced from the pain but still didn't forget his manners. "I thank ye," he said faintly.

  "That should slow down the leakage," Scotty said worriedly. "Where is that medteam? Medteam!"

  This time they came—two of them, pulling a gurney. They examined Scotty's makeshift bandage and decided to leave it in place until they could get Mr. Green to sickbay. They strapped the tunic in place and lifted the wounded Sacker on to the gurney. The last thing Mr. Green did as he was being taken away was turn his head and say, "Ye mustna forget your helmet!"

  "Oh. Aye, I've got it. I'll be in to check on ye as soon as I am able!" Scotty called after the departing gurney.

  He made his way through the smoke-filled engine room to the corridor on the other side where Kirk and his non-volunteer firemen were fighting a losing battle. Something was seriously wrong with the fire-control design or else the installation had not been complete at the time the ship was stolen; not a single sprayer was working. There was a real danger that the ship could be destroyed by a fire that should have been put out automatically and easily.

  "Scotty!" Kirk called when he saw him. "Find the control panel! And hurry!"

  "It should be near the hatchway," Scotty muttered. "Ah! Here 'tis!"

  Kirk just then noticed that the chief engineer was in his undershirt. "Where's your tunic?"

  "Pluggin' up a hole in Mr. Green's side, it is." He got to work.

  "Hurry, Scotty. We're right under the environmental control section."

  Scotty didn't have to be told. If the fire broke through to the deck above, their entire plan was in jeopardy. Because right above them at that very moment were Uhura and Chekov, who had enough to handle without having to worry about being burned alive.

  Chekov's and Uhura's ears were throbbing from the one word they'd heard spoken by the Sacker not wearing a translator. When the Sacker saw his/her voice had brought them both to their knees, he/she backed away hastily. The helmets the two humans were wearing had helped some; gradually the pain in Uhura's ears eased down to a dull buzzing. "Chekov?" she said, touching him lightly on his good shoulder. He gestured helplessly; he couldn't hear.

  The Sacker who'd inadvertently spoken out of surprise at seeing them was the only one in the environmental control section. All the others, Uhura presumed, were helping fight the fire on the deck below. She and Chekov had made their way past a few anxious Sackers keeping watch on the crawlways in case the fire should start to ascend that way. Uhura had seen no flames, but the smell of smoke had grown stronger with each step they'd taken on the way to Environmental Control. The moment she'd been dreading was here. The big fire that had been haunting her dreams had caught up with her. A lump grew in her stomach the size of a fist, her throat tightened, and her breathing grew shallow. She'd had great difficulty putting one foot before the other. At one point Chekov had had to grab her by the arm and drag her along the corridor.

  Uhura looked around Environmental Control, orienting herself as quickly as possible. Over to the left were the life-support controls, but between them and her stood the Sacker—a big, especially colorful one, with sac fluid that was variegated turquoise and yellow. With a distant part of her mind she noted she was able to stare straight at this new Sacker without wanting to upchuck. That was nice, but getting rid of him/her was the first order of business. She looked a question at Chekov.

  He decided to try the nonviolent approach first. He started speaking rapidly to the Sacker and making imploring gestures with his hands, trying to draw the Sacker out into the corridor. The Sacker, of course, understood nothing of what the human was saying, yet Chekov somehow managed to convey a sense of urgency. But to no avail; the Sacker refused to budge from his post.

  Uhura sighed. She was the one with two good arms, so she would have to do it. While Chekov kept the Sacker occupied, she started a surreptitious sweep of the place. She'd almost circled the room before she came upon a heavy wrench about a meter long. It took both hands to lift it. Uhura walked quietly up behind the Sacker, took aim, and swung the wrench as hard as she could.

  The Sacker was so tall that only the tip of the wrench caught his/her head, but it was enough. He/she fell like a rock.

  Chekov and Uhura both checked to make sure the sac membrane hadn't been ruptured. "Now what do we do?" Uhura asked. "We don't want him in here with us."

  "True," Chekov agreed. He took off his sling and tossed it aside. "She might regain consciousness before ve are finished. But ve cannot drag her out ourselves."

  "Then get some Sackers to drag him out."

  Chekov's face lit up. "Yust vhat I vas about to suggest!" He stepped out into the corridor and started calling for help. Uhura took herself and the wrench out of sight.

  Three Sackers answered Chekov's call for help, hurrying as fast as Sackers could hurry; one of them, fortunately, was wearing a translator. Chekov told them a story about being on his way to help in the engine room when the door to the environmental control section opened, and he looked in just in time to see that Sacker right there falling down.

  The three Sackers tried to rouse their fallen companion. When they failed, they carried him/her out—to sickbay, the Sacker with the translator told Chekov. Chekov started off in the opposite direction, but was back in a few minutes.

  "Ve cannot seal the door," he said breathlessly. "The captain and Mr. Scott are not here yet!"

  "Then you'll have to stand guard," Uhura replied worriedly. She hurried over to the life-support controls. She looked over the board until she found the temperature regulators and keyed in a command: Shipwide. Then she lowered the temperature ten degrees.

  They had to wait nearly thirty minutes. They removed their helmets, and the smell of smoke was immediately stronger. Uhura and Chekov both grew more tense as the minutes passed. At the same time they were aware of the dropping temperature—one blessing, at least.

  Finally Captain Kirk came running in. "Seal that door!" he ordered.

  Chekov sealed it. "Vhere is Mr. Scott?"

  "Trying to get this blasted fire-control system to work," Kirk said, taking off his helmet. "That's something I hadn't counted on—no fire control. Scotty got the sprayers going in the engine room, but by then the fire had spread out into the corridor. We've got a regular conflagration down there, and it's working its way up." He saw the expression on Uhura's face. "Uhura," he said, taking hold of her shoulders, "hang on. You've got to hang on."

  "Yes, sir," she replied dully.

  "Temperature's down, I can feel it. Where's the intercom?"

  Uhura pointed.

  Kirk slapped the activating button. "Kirk to bridge."

  "Babe here," came the familiar voice. "What is happening, Captain? Are the warp engines functioning?"

  "Negative," Kirk growled. "It seems your elders didn't give the Zirgosians enough time to test their fire-control design. The fire's spreading, and there's not a hell of a lot we can do to stop it. But that's only one of your problems. Have you noticed a change in temperature on the bridge?"

  "The temperature has dropped ten degrees. Has the fire reached En
vironmental Control?"

  "Not yet. But we have."

  "Explain."

  "We lowered the temperature, Babe. And we're going to keep on lowering it, a few degrees at a time. Remember how your elders died? Do you remember watching their sac fluid freeze solid and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it? That's what's going to happen to you unless you surrender your ship. Do you understand? You're going to freeze to death if you don't surrender. Unless the fire gets to you first."

  The answer didn't come immediately. Then: "You would kill us all, Captain Kirk?"

  "I'm trying to keep you alive, you big red—" Kirk broke off and took several deep breaths. "Now listen, Babe—listen carefully. This is what will happen when you surrender. First, the Enterprise will beam over a team with fire-fighting equipment and get that conflagration under control. Then they'll beam over security and medical teams. There are already a few injuries and there are bound to be more. There's been one death that I know of."

  A strange sound came over the intercom. "Who?" Babe asked.

  "He was gray, worked in the engine room. That's all I can tell you—except that I regret his death more than I can say. Babe, there's no reason for anyone else to die. Surrender your ship. Let me tell the Enterprise to start beaming the rescue teams over."

  "And the baryon reverter?"

  "We take it."

  "Never!"

  "Think it over, Babe. If you don't surrender, your only options are to freeze to death or to watch your ship burn away from under you out here in space."

  "We do not surrender!"

  "Then keep an eye on your temperature readings. Kirk out." He slapped the intercom button and nodded to Uhura. She lowered the temperature another few degrees.

  Then there was nothing to do but wait. Chekov started to pace.

  After a while Uhura said, "Captain, am I imagining it or is this deck getting hot under our feet?"

  "You're not imagining it. The fire must be directly under us." He shot a quick look at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be holding up.

  They waited some more, and at Kirk's signal Uhura lowered the temperature once again. Chekov paused in his pacing to place an ear against the sealed doors. "Kepten! I think they are out there!"

  Kirk had expected that. "Better stand back from the doors."

  Chekov's eyes grew round. "Can they get in?"

  "I don't think so, but don't take any chances—stand away. According to the ship's schematics, once those doors are sealed, the only way to open them from the outside is to rig a bypass on a circuitry board mounted inside a corridor bulkhead. I'm gambling these kids won't know how to do that."

  "Vhat vill they do, then? Try to force the doors?"

  "Probably. Those hand weapons they carry won't do the trick. And if they use photon grenades, they'll destroy the entire environmental section."

  "I hope they know thet," Chekov remarked nervously.

  Whatever the Sackers had tried, it didn't work. Then a heavy thump sounded from the doors—they were attempting to force their way in.

  Uhura gasped at the sound. "Are they using a battering ram?"

  "Sounds like it." A last resort, Kirk thought with a surge of excitement. The battering continued at a gradually increasing rate, but the doors held; the Zirgosians had built well.

  At last the thumping stopped. Kirk shot a grin at the other two and hit the intercom button. "Kirk to bridge."

  "Yes, Captain."

  "It didn't work, Babe. The doors are still sealed, we are still here, and the temperature is still going down."

  "We are prepared to die, Captain Kirk."

  "Mm, very noble. Is that something else you were taught from babyhood? Babe, your dying won't change anything. We can stand lower temperatures than you can—we'll simply wait until you're all frozen and then take the baryon reverter. Of course, you can all fight one another for a place close to where the fire is burning and hope to survive that way. But sooner or later the cold will get most of you." He paused, and then resumed quietly. "This is the end, Babe. You can't put it off any longer."

  The intercom was silent.

  "Babe, listen to me. You've done everything that could be expected of you—in fact, you've done more. You've acquitted yourself honorably. But part of being a good starship captain is knowing when to stop. Did you hear that? It's time to stop, Babe. Let's get the rescue teams over here and save this ship. And then we'll put out that other fire, the one in the sky. We're out of time. You must decide now."

  Nothing for a few moments, and then: "I must consult with my officers."

  "Of course." Uhura and Chekov were both grinning at him; he could taste victory.

  After about two minutes Babe came back on the intercom. "We are agreed. Captain Kirk, I surrender this ship to you."

  Uhura and Chekov cheered. The psychological warfare Kirk had waged and the taste of physical warfare the Sackers had had and the fire raging out of control and the threat of freezing to death—it had all just been too much for the Sacker youngsters. "Babe," Kirk said in relief, "that's the best decision you've made yet. Now I want you to instruct your crew to lay down their weapons. Tell them we are to be allowed to move throughout the ship without opposition. And tell them in English, please."

  "Yes, of course. One moment please." Getting her thoughts together? Then she started to speak. "Attention, all decks, attention. This is Commander Babe speaking. I regret to inform you that I have just surrendered this ship to the humans from the Enterprise. There will be no more hostilities—you are to disarm yourselves immediately. Wherever you are at this moment, put your weapons down on the deck beside you and leave them there. I have given Captain Kirk my word that he and his officers can move freely throughout the ship without fear of reprisal. I repeat, there will be no more hostilities. We will soon be boarded by rescue teams from the Enterprise. They will put out the fire and tend to our injured."

  She paused a moment, and then went on in a less official tone of voice: "You have nothing to be ashamed of—any of you. You have shown courage, and stamina, and resourcefulness. We knew we might fail when our elders died and it was left to us to carry out the Plan … but we did make an effort all of us can be proud of. I am proud of you. No ship's captain ever had a more conscientious crew. Now let us show these humans that we can face defeat with composure and dignity. Babe out."

  The three humans in the environmental control section exchanged wry looks. "That Babe is going to be one hell of a starship captain someday," Kirk murmured. "Okay—grab your helmets and let's go. This deck's getting too hot for me."

  Chekov unsealed the doors. Outside in the corridor eight or nine Sackers were standing dejectedly in a half-circle, waiting for them to come out. Their weapons were lying on the deck. They looked so disconsolate that Chekov felt a surge of pity for them. "Sorry, fellas," he apologized and hurried off after Kirk and Uhura.

  The fire was eating its way along the unfolded section that held the engine room and Environmental Control, but the main body of the ship was as yet untouched. Their destination was the transporter room, two decks above. While the turbolifts in the main body were probably still operational, they decided not to risk it and instead climbed the ladder through a crawlway. They found only one Sacker on duty in the transporter room; he yielded the control pad to them without being asked.

  Kirk studied the figures on the controls and punched in some numbers. Then he spoke the three words he'd been aching to say for so long a time: "Kirk to Enterprise."

  "Captain! You are uninjured, I trust?"

  "Quite uninjured, Mr. Spock, and feeling very well. So well, in fact, that I'd like to invite you over to see my new ship."

  "Your new ship. Indeed. I take it the Sackers have surrendered?"

  "With grace and dignity," Kirk said seriously. He proceeded to give orders as to the teams he wanted beamed over—fire fighting, security, repair, medical. "By the way, that was good shooting, Mr. Spock."

  "Why, thank you,
Captain. I hope our timing was apt?"

  "Couldn't have been apter. Oh … tell Mr. Sulu to suit up and beam over with one of the teams. I'll need him to take command of this vessel. I've got the coordinates locked in here—you can start beaming over any time."

  "The first security team is suited up and in the transporter room now."

  "Good. Beam away."

  Almost immediately a team headed by Lieutenant Berengaria materialized in the Sacker transporter room. "Captain! Are you all right?" Berengaria asked.

  "Perfectly all right, Lieutenant, and very glad to see you. You can probably direct your operation best from the bridge."

  "Right. Trucco, you stay here and tell the next team to secure the armory. Then report to the bridge." She glanced at the turbolift. "Does this go straight to the bridge?" At Kirk's nod, she and the others boarded the lift, leaving the one called Trucco behind.

  "At least they won't have to smell them," Uhura commented, eyeing Trucco's helmet. "The way we did."

  "And they've had a little time to get used to the way they look," Kirk added. "From the bridge visuals—when you lowered the shield. It shouldn't be too rough on them."

  The second security team beamed in, got their instructions from Trucco, and left.

  "Kepten," Chekov asked with a grin, "are you really going to put Sulu in charge?"

  "Absolutely. We owe Blue a chance to meet his hero, don't you think?"

  Mr. Spock appeared with the third security team. He quickly stepped down from the transporter platform and three long strides brought him face-to-face with Kirk. "Congratulations, sir. There was a time there when I was quite concerned about your welfare."

  Kirk pretended to be hurt. "You doubted me?" He didn't bother to mention he'd been pretty concerned himself. "The Sackers won't give us any trouble, Spock. They know it's all up. Now it's just a matter of getting the baryon reverter over to the Enterprise."

  "When we have the time, I would be most interested in learning how you brought about a surrender without hostile resistance."