Star Trek - Log 4

by Alan Dean Foster

  It was a surprise to see an Imperial Klingon vessel here. The Klingons were not considered to be among the more adventurous races where abnormalities of time and space were concerned. The Delta Triangle was one of the last places Kirk would have expected to encounter them.

  Somehow he had a feeling that their presence here was unrelated to neutral exploration.

  "Klingon battle cruiser," he announced, his tone becoming brisk. "Deflector shields up, Mr. Sulu."

  "All deflectors up, sir."

  "Recognize her, Mr. Spock?"

  Spock studied the screen. "No, Captain. Klolode-class ship, though." Kirk nodded.

  "Equivalent to our own." He directed his next order backward. "Lieutenant Uhura, open a hailing frequency and . . ."

  Further conversation was cut off as several pulses of lambent color suddenly erupted from the front of the Klingon ship. The scanners were momentarily blinded. A soft rumbling was heard, and the deck trembled slightly underfoot as the barrage of disruptor bolts impinged on the Enterprise’s deflector screens and were repulsed. A moment later the screen cleared, showed the image of the battle cruiser shrinking rapidly with distance.

  "Mr. Sulu," Kirk began angrily, "will you . . .?"

  "Following, sir," Sulu said tightly. The helmsman was obviously controlling his voice and emotions with difficulty. Kirk didn't have to ask why.

  No doubt the Klingon commander had hoped to catch the Enterprise unprepared, her screens down, with that first attack. Seeing that it had failed, he was running now.

  The Klingon's logic was not hard to follow. Were the Enterprise to disappear in the Delta Triangle, her demise would be recorded as just another in the age-old series of mysterious disappearances. Clever . . . and thoroughly slimy.

  "He's running in a high warp arc, Captain," Sulu reported, handling the pursuit course, "but we've got her. She won't get away."

  "Plotting confirmed," added Arex in his usual calm, soft tones. No sign in his voice that anything out of the ordinary had occurred.

  "Ready phasers," Kirk ordered.

  If the Klingon commander expected his surprise attack would go unanswered, he was badly mistaken. Letting such a provocation go would be tantamount to an admission of cowardice. That was something the Klingons would immediately rationalize as carte blanche to try similar adventures in other sectors—perhaps against less well defended Federation vessels. If nothing else, a strong response was required as a deterrent to such thoughts.

  "Phasers ready—approaching attack range, Captain," Sulu told him. Minutes later, "Phasers locked on target, sir."

  Intolerably intense beams of deep blue lit the blackness between the Enterprise and the Klingon cruiser that sat squarely in the center of the main viewscreen.

  The Klingon had looked normal to Kirk until just before the phasers were fired. Then he had noticed—or thought he had noticed—a peculiar wavering of space around the alien warship. A suggestion of motion where there should have been no motion. A hint of light where light was absent.

  Probably a trick of the eyes. In any case, he had no time to consider it. The two bursts from the ship's forward phasers impacted on the Klingon's deflector screens.

  One of two things should have happened.

  The shields should have flared brilliantly with the strain of absorbing the phaser energy or, if the bursts were strong enough and contacted the shields at a weak enough point, the ship should have shown damage from the powerful attack. Neither took place.

  Instead, the Klingon cruiser vanished.

  Not in a burst of incandescent flame, not in a sudden supernal explosion—it just vanished. One second the ship was there, awaiting the counterattack of the Enterprise—and then there was only the silence of space in its place, nothing to indicate the cruiser had ever existed.

  At least, that's how it appeared to a flabbergasted Kirk.

  The first step was outside confirmation of his own observations. His attempt to secure same was not subtle, but had instead the virtue of directness.

  "Mr. Spock, did you just see what I think I just saw?"

  "Not only did I just see what you think you just saw, Captain, but I am now observing what you think you don't."

  "So we concur on analysis if not on grammar. Explanation?"

  Spock's attention was divided between the main viewscreen, numerous gauges set above the computer keyboard, and his double-hooded viewer. Several moments of intense study of all three areas produced a reply tinged with the faintest hint of uncertainty.

  "I can offer nothing plausible at this time, Captain. However . . ." Studying yet another new bit of information, he hesitated. "Playback of sensor readings taken just prior to the disappearance of the Klingon ship, when examined at ultraslow speed, indicate that the ship was not destroyed, repeat, not destroyed, by our phaser fire.

  "Replay further implies that the enemy vessel's shielding was operating at full strength and successfully deflected both phaser bursts though no direct evidence of such shielding was detectable."

  Kirk paused a moment, asked, "What about the possibility they're using a variety of the invisibility shield we've encountered before?"

  "I do not think so, Captain. That produces definite, detectable reactions, measurable stresses in the fabric of space. Nothing of the sort has been observed."

  "Ummm." Kirk thought back to the strange phenomenon he thought he had noticed just before the battle cruiser vanished. "Seconds before we counterattacked, Mr. Spock, I think I saw a certain—well, a kind of fluttering around the Klingon's hull."

  "I observed a similar field-effect, Captain," Sulu said excitedly. "I thought it was a distortion in our scanners, an after-effect of the disruptor bolts."

  "It is not a distortion, of either our eyes or the scanner's," Spock added. "I saw it, too."

  "I'll assume visual confirmation, then," Kirk went on. "We should have a record of the effect, Mr. Spock. Sensor analysis?"

  Spock returned to his computer, made demands on recently employed tapes. "The instruments are still not registering with regularity, Captain—a disruption still unaccounted for. But I believe I can say with assurance, after scanning the pertinent information, that the Klingon ship was not in any way responsible for the effect we observed and exercised no control over it.

  "As there have been numerous ship disappearances in this region, I would venture the opinion that . . ."

  "Whatever caused the disappearance of the Klingon ship was a natural phenomenon," Kirk concluded. "Clearly the Klingons were expecting it no more than we were. But what kind of natural phenomenon absorbs starships without a trace?" He turned his gaze back to the viewscreen.

  "At least we have some idea what to expect . . . instant, quiet annihilation. How comforting. All duly personnel, yellow-alert status."

  Sulu touched the necessary switches.

  "Give me a three-hundred-sixty-degree visual scan, Mr. Sulu. Horizontal plane first, then forty-five degrees, then vertical."

  "Aye, Captain," the helmsman replied, making adjustments. "Scanning three-hundred-sixty-degrees horizontal." The starfield on the screen began to move from right to left as they watched.

  The scan was barely a fourth completed when the scanners picked up a new phenomenon. Unlike the odd fluttering that had appeared around the vanished battle cruiser, this one was immediately identifiable. The moving blot could be only one thing.

  "Captain, we have another vessel on the screen," Sulu reported. "No, make that a double pickup, sir. Both vessels moving toward us at cruising speed, angle of approach . . ." and he spat a rapid stream of threatening figures at Kirk.

  "Visual pickup holding . . . stepping up magnification, sir," the helmsman continued. The image on screen shifted, changed, held.

  Two Klingon battle cruisers appeared on the screen now, and they were between the Enterprise and her entry point into the Triangle.

  Spock had moved over to stand next to the command chair, eyed the screen. Kirk's voice was grim as he studied the
pursuing vessels.

  "Mousetrapped." He glanced up at his first officer. "If the surprise attack by the first ship doesn't succeed in blasting us out of existence, they have a pair of reserves ready to make sure we don't get away to tell the story."

  "Speaking strictly from the standpoint of objective tactics, Spock commented drily, "an excellent idea. They are apparently most concerned that word of this altercation should never reach Starfleet Central."

  "With good reason," Kirk noted. Both men turned to face the communications console as Uhura spoke up.

  "Sir, we're receiving a Class Two signal from the nearest Klingon ship. Shall I acknowledge?"

  "One moment, Lieutenant." Kirk looked to his helmsman. "Mr. Sulu? On my command, I want you to turn us from our present course and head for the exact coordinates where the Klingon cruiser disappeared. Warp-eight."

  "Yes sir." Sulu puzzled over the order even as he made the necessary preparations. Sometimes he wished the captain would be a bit more communicative about his intentions. It occasionally seemed to him that the Enterprise was governed as much by surprise as by forethought.

  "All right, Lieutenant," Kirk told Uhura. "Put the visual on the main screen. And I'll want this entire exchange recorded and beamed back to Starfleet Command." Uhura looked doubtful at this last.

  "It will take three weeks to reach the nearest Star-base, sir. And additional time before it can be boosted and relayed to command headquarters."

  "Nonetheless, let's have it on the records . . . provided the Klingons don't try to jam it."

  "Aye, sir." She turned back to her board, fiddled a moment. "Signal coming in." The main viewscreen flickered briefly. Then the view of the two Klingon cruisers was replaced by a portrait of a high-ranking Klingon officer.

  This particular Klingon was heavy-set and stiff-faced. He also affected a beard and mustache, the latter a thin, drooping kind once favored by Oriental mandarins on ancient Earth. It gave him an especially displeasing appearance. His eyes were impressive, his manner standard for a Klingon commander who believed himself to be in a position of incontrovertible tactical superiority . . . blunt, overbearing, irritatingly condescending.

  "You have been identified as the Federation Starship Enterprise, Captain James T. Kirk commanding at last record." The words came out clipped, accusative.

  Kirk shifted slightly in his chair, making sure the small visual pickup trained on him was giving the Klingon as good a picture of himself as they were receiving. His voice he held carefully neutral.

  "Your information is correct. This is Captain Kirk speaking."

  A grunt of satisfaction, then the Klingon went on. "I am Commander Kuri of the Imperial Klingon fleet. We have just witnessed the destruction of our sister ship, the Klothos, and we hold you responsible. Surrender immediately or we will destroy you."

  Nothing like getting to the point. Diplomacy figured in Klingon requests about as much as semantic inventiveness . . . meaning not at all.

  Kirk took a pained breath, hoped Kuri was enough of a reader of human expression to know what it meant; and he continued, his voice tinged with just the proper amount of exasperation.

  "We did not destroy the Klothos—and you are well aware of it, Commander."

  "Surely you don't expect me to believe it just vanished," Kuri replied furiously.

  Spock leaned over, still staying out of range of the visual pickup, and whispered, "The Klingons are not good poker players, Captain. From this one's attitude and expression, I would say he is as confused as we are—and not a little bit frightened."

  Kirk had no time to consider Spock's observations in detail. He went on sharply. "You may believe what you like, Commander. We were fired upon first, without warning of any kind. Naturally we returned fire. Our instruments record that the Klothos successfully turned back our phaser attack . . . and then disappeared. I have no more idea than you what caused it.

  "But, as you are no doubt aware, we are now in the Delta Triangle. You are familiar with this region's reputation?"

  Kuri suddenly seemed unsure of himself. Clearly he had believed the Enterprise was responsible for the disappearance of the Klothos. Kirk's explanation sounded plausible.

  "Yes, certainly, that was why . . ." He hastily took another tack, aware of what he had almost confessed openly. "I am familiar with the numerous ship disappearances recorded in this sector, yes. But that it should happen now, at such a time, is a coincidence of proportions I am not prepared to accept." He confessed the last in such a way that Kirk couldn't be sure if it was meant for his ears or for those of unseen persons hovering invisibly around them.

  Kirk was the only one who responded however. "Frankly, Commander, what you accept is of little concern to me. Enterprise out." He flicked a switch in the armchair console which shifted the viewscreen back to external scan. Once more the two battle cruisers dominated the picture.

  At the same time he said, "Now, Mr. Sulu."

  The Klingon ships vanished as Sulu drew power from the engines. Kirk called for further magnification, but the Klingons had been lost in the starfield. That wouldn't last for long.

  The view on the bridge of the lead Klingon cruiser was reversed, where it was the Enterprise that seemed to disappear.

  "Fools, idiots!" Kuri shouted. "Thinking they can escape." He had already forgotten Kirk's protestation of innocence. It was confession enough that the Federation ship was running. He turned to his own helmsman.

  "Accelerate to maximum . . . use emergency power if necessary—but do not let them escape! Prepare to open fire."

  Moving in tandem, both cruisers leaped forward in pursuit of the Enterprise. Using emergency power, they sprinted, closing on the Federation craft.

  Range had been reduced from excessive to marginal and several minutes had passed when the gunner on board the lead Klingon cruiser looked back at his commander wonderingly.

  Kuri was aware of the scrutiny. Undoubtedly the officer was wondering why the order to fire was being withheld. Kuri fully intended to give the order, but he had just the least bit of hesitation, the tiniest touch of uncertainty, at the back of his mind.

  He did not know Kirk personally, but he knew both his reputation and the reputation of his ship. It was not like the Enterprise to turn and run, no matter what the odds. A quick frontal assault, at least, a passing attempt to damage one of his two remaining ships—but instead, she had turned and run.

  Nevertheless, they were within range.

  "Both ships, fire at will," he ordered, waiting expectantly for the Enterprise to do . . . what? What if Kirk had been right about the disappearance of the Klothos being due to natural phenomena? Might not the same be waiting out there, poised to capture yet another vessel?

  Disruptor bolts fled across the intervening space. A feathery nimbus flared repeatedly around the fleeing Enterprise as her screens handled the assault.

  The steady barrage of disrupters blanked out the rear scanners. Kirk switched to the forward pickups. By now he was more concerned about where they were going than what was behind them.

  Scott was working the engineering console on the bridge. He had held off speaking as long as he could. Now he felt it was time to speak up.

  "Sir, aren't we going to defend ourselves?"

  "Your deflector shields are doing that quite nicely, Mr. Scott." Scott struggled to maintain a respectful attitude. This wasn't like Kirk.

  "But sir, just to . . . run away, sir. We were attacked . . . and there are only two of them left."

  The chief engineer might have felt better if he could have seen how Kirk was fighting his own instincts. "We'll turn and fight if we have to, Mr. Scott." He looked to the helm. "Mr. Sulu, are we on course for the exact spot where the Klothos disappeared?"

  "Dead on, sir," Sulu responded, checking his readouts. "We'll arrive in . . . ten seconds. Mark, nine, eight . . ." He counted down the seconds. At six, Scott whirled from his console to announce in a stunned tone, "Captain, our deflector shields have just gon
e out."

  Sulu commanded his attention before Kirk could reply. "Sir, the helm instrumentation has gone haywire. I can't orient myself."

  "Everything is quite abnormal, Captain," Arex added. "None of the navigation readouts are behaving sanely."

  "Subspace radio channels are all dead, sir," put in Uhura.

  By way of mechanical afterthought, alarm lights began flashing, blinking on the bridge. None of them could see, of course, the gentle shimmering light which had suddenly appeared around the ship.

  For several seconds the Enterprise lay enveloped in a faint, ghostly halo. Then the halo winked out, and with it, the Enterprise—both presumably gone to the same unimaginable, unknown destination.

  Not too far away in the relative sense, a senior Klingon officer suddenly jumped halfway out of his seat, staring in disbelief at his main viewscreen. A Federation vessel had been depicted there only seconds before.

  "Where did they go? Where did they run to? Navigator!" The officer in question examined his gauges and telltales, looked back helplessly at his commander.

  "I do not know, Exalted One. Their ship has vanished from range of every one of our detectors—as did the Klothos."

  Kuri sat down slowly.

  It was not permitted a cruiser commander to appear frightened before his men. However, nothing in the manual of battlefield posture prohibited him from sounding concerned.

  "Slow to minimum speed. Spread out, search this area. And remain in contact at all times. The second any abnormal phenomena are detected, both ships are to retreat at battle speed to the perimeter of the Delta Triangle." He turned to his communications officer.

  "Keep all hailing channels open." The officer nodded. "Federation and Imperial frequencies." Now there was nothing more he could do.

  First the Klothos—and now the Enterprise. Kirk had been right, then, in his explanation of the Klothos' disappearance. Little good it had done him!

  Unless . . . unless this was another Federation trick. If there was one thing Kuri had learned through the years it was never to underestimate the deviousness of the Federation mind. But he was grasping at f'korr. Some gross abnormality of space-time was at work here.