by 06(lit)
Sweating slightly, Kirk ran from the elevator and pressed a door; it did not budge. He tried to force it with no success. He tried the next door; it opened easily. Standing guardedly in the opening, he pushed it all the way open with his elbow, one hand on the butt of his phaser. It whished slightly in the silence. The tables in the lounge stood as though the crew had just been summoned; a half-finished chess game, a sandwich with a bite out of it, a book dropped carelessly on the floor. But the only sound was Kirk's own breathing. He went out into the corridor again, warily.
Two more doors, locked. The third, labeled "Cap-tain's Quarters," opened to the lightest pressure. His familiar room suddenly seemed alien-no crackle from the intercom, the bunk neatly made up, his books orderly on their shelf; his lounging robe swung eerily in the slight breeze made by the opening door. Momentarily disoriented, he wondered for a wild mo-ment whether he had strayed from his own body and was visiting the Enterprise long after he and his crew had perished from the universe.
Footsteps! Dancing footsteps, echoing in the cor-ridor; he pivoted on his now very real heels and stared. At the end of the hall a graceful figure whirled and curtsied, feet pattering gaily on the utili-tarian flooring.
She caught sight of Kirk in mid-pirouette, and stopped with a little cry. He reached, and caught her; the sight of a human form brought his sense of reality back with a bump.
"Who the... who are you?"
She frowned, her delicate forehead lovely even when wrinkling; suddenly she smiled.
"Odona... yes. My name is Odona. Why did you bring me here?" She indicated the ship's corridor with a wide gesture.
Kirk was startled. "What are you doing on my ship?"
"This entire ship is yours?"
"It's not my personal property. I'm the Captain."
"And you have all this to yourself?" Her voice was full of wonder.
"At the moment, we seem to have it all to our-selves," Kirk corrected.
Odona smiled, sapphire eyes looking up from under sable lashes. "So it seems. You're hurting me, Cap-tain."
Kirk hastily released her.
"Captain James Kirk. And I did not bring you here, incidentally."
"If you didn't..."
"Exactly. Who did?"
She shrugged helplessly. The decorations bordering her brief tunic twinkled in the lights.
"What happened before you got here?" said Kirk. "Try to remember. It's important."
She puzzled over it for a moment. "I remember... it seems I was standing in a very large auditorium, crowded with people, thousands of people pressed against me so hard I could hardly breathe... I was fighting for breath, screaming to get out and they kept pushing and pushing..." She shuddered.
"Don't be afraid." Kirk placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"I'm not." She looked up at him. "But you are troubled?"
Kirk turned away. "I am the only one of my crew left on the Enterprise. Out of four hundred and thirty. I may be the only one left alive."
"I am sorry. If only I could help."
"You can," said Kirk earnestly. "Tell me the rest. You were fighting for breath, screaming to get out, and..."
"And suddenly I was here on this... your ship. And there is so much room, so much freedom. I just wanted to float." She smiled impishly. "And then, there you were."
"How long have you been on the Enterprise?" Kirk's questions were almost random; any clue, any train of suggestion, might lead him to a solution.
"I don't know. Not long. Does it matter?"
"It might. Come on." He started back toward the bridge.
Odona followed reluctantly.
"Do we have to leave this wonderful open place?"
Kirk glowered at the chronometer in the bridge, gripping Odona's hand. She tried to pull away from him; he held her firmly.
"Half an hour of my life is lost."
Odona stared at him.
"Between the time I tried to leave this ship for Gideon, and the time I found myself here alone, a full half hour disappeared-poof! What happened during that half hour?"
"What is Gideon?"
"Your home, the planet you came from... don't you remember?"
"I don't know any Gideon." She looked at him, apparently utterly lost.
"That's impossible. We were in synchronous orbit over the capital city. I was supposed to beam down. Something went wrong. You must have been sent aboard from Gideon."
She shook her head, trying to remember.
"I do not think so."
Kirk flipped on the viewing screen. Gideon had vanished. The changing patterns of the stars indi-cated the forward motion of the ship. Odona moved closer, and put her hand in his.
"We are no longer over Gideon," said Kirk in a flat voice.
"Where are we?"
"I don't know. I don't recognize that quadrant," said Kirk dully.
Odona bit her lip. Thinking aloud, Kirk said, "Odo-na, you must realize that we are not here together by accident. Someone must have arranged it, for a pur-pose, an unknown purpose."
A small voice replied, "Captain Kirk, before I said I wasn't afraid. Now, I think I am."
He looked at her with compassion, and they turned back to the incomprehensible pattern of stars.
"Go back two degrees, there was a pulse variation," said Spock. Sulu maneuvered the sensor screen.
"There," said Spock. "There is something. Give me a reading."
Sulu flicked switches. "I can't make it out, sir."
"Get chemical analysis and molecular structure."
Sulu pointed silently at the indicators. Scott, McCoy and Chekov watched anxiously. Spock shook his head.
"Space debris."
Sulu sighed, and resumed tracking.
"Lieutenant Uhura, has Starfleet honored our re-quest with an answer?"
"Not yet, sir."
"Did you impress upon them that the Captain's life is at stake?"
"Of course, Mr. Spock," she said indignantly. "But they insisted that the matter had to be referred to the Federation."
"What department?"
"Bureau of Planetary Treaties, sir."
"Contact them directly."
"I already have, Mr. Spock. They insist we go though Starfleet channels."
Sulu exploded, spinning in his chair. "With the Cap-tain missing that's the best they could come up with?"
"A bureaucrat," said Spock bitterly, "is the opposite of a diplomat. But they manage to achieve the same results."
He stared at the chronometer. The second indicator. clicked on. The captain was waiting... somewhere. And time was passing inalterably.
Suddenly Uhura's voice broke the tense silence.
"Mr. Spock, Gideon is making contact."
McCoy said sourly, "Now we're in for another dose of doubletalk."
"Since we must learn the language of diplomacy in order to deal with our present problem, shall we just listen to what they have to tell us?" said Spock. "Then, Doctor, we can decide on the relative merits of their statements."
Four poker-faced ministers flanked the Prime Min-ister as he appeared on the viewer. Courteously, Spock began, "Your Excellency, we are pleased to hear that you have news of the Captain."
"Good news!" said the smiling image. "Very good news indeed, Mr. Spock. Your Captain is definitely not on Gideon. We have made a thorough search, just as you requested. I am sure you will be relieved to know you may now proceed to investigate all the other possibilities, and forget about Gideon."
"But that is not what we requested!"
"It is in the records, Mr. Spock," broke in the voice of the Prime Minister. "You asked for a thorough search of Gideon. We have used every means at our disposal to accommodate you, Mr. Spock." Outraged astonishment overlaid the diplomat's usual smile.
"Your record on this subject cannot be precise, Ex-cellency."
Hodin waved to an assistant, and took from him a thick book. With ambitious eagerness the assistant had already opened it to a specific passag
e.
"You do not intend, I hope, that a conference be made the subject of a dispute between Gideon and the Federation, Mr. Spock."
"Your Excellency, a dispute is farthest from our minds. It's quite unnecessary to check your documents. I am merely suggesting to you that the language of our request may not have been under-stood exactly as intended."
Hodin stood up, huffily indignant. He waved his puffy hand.
"Mr. Spock, you are an officer of a spaceship. In your profession you make use of many instruments, tools, and... weapons... to achieve your objectives, do you not?"
"Yes, sir."
Hodin's eyes were squinting with an apparent effort to remain diplomatically cool. His posture betrayed him.
"However," he continued, "the only tool diplomacy has is language. It is of the utmost importance that the meaning be crystal clear."
Spock's own posture was of stiff attention.
"I am basically a scientist, Excellency. Clarity of formulation is essential in my profession also."
"I am glad to hear that. Perhaps then you will make a greater effort to choose your words precisely."
The word "precisely" vibrated through the bridge like a red petticoat in a bullring. The crew was com-ing to a full boil; all hands were fists by now.
McCoy muttered, "Are you going to let him get away with that, Spock?"
"No matter what you say, he'll find a way to twist the meaning," said Scott.
Uhura growled, "How can you stand this, Mr. Spock?"
McCoy leaned past Spock to the viewer and spoke directly to Hodin. "Our Captain is lost out there some-where. We don't care how much you have searched, we are going over every inch of space ourselves. He's got to be down there somewhere. We're going after him!"
Too loudly, Chekov said, "This is no time to stick to rules and regulations, this is an emergency!" McCoy gently pulled him back, and leaned toward the screen again.
"We can't leave without being absolutely positive ourselves that everything has been done," he said. "Surely you can understand our feelings."
Hodin turned back to the screen, smiling.
"Mr. Spock. Mr. Spock."
"Yes, Your Excellency?"
"Are you still there?" That smile was imperturba-ble. "There was considerable interference with your transmission. A great deal of noise drowned out your transmission; could you please repeat more clearly?"
McCoy retreated, baffled. "Let me apologize for the noise, Your Excellency," said Spock. "To summar-ize, I request permission to transport down to Gideon."
The Prime Minister looked at his deputies and back at Spock. They all burst out in offensive laughter.
"Forgive me, Mr. Spock," Hodin's oily voice re-sumed. "No criticism of your equipment is intended. But evidently it has sent your Captain on some strange journey-we all still hope a safe one, of course." He bowed formally. "But it could create for us a grave incident with your Federation. And now you propose to repeat the disaster with yet another officer? Are you mad?"
Scott shouted, "I'll not take that, Mr. Spock. The Transporter was in perfect condition... I pairsonally guarantee that mysel'. Transport me down there this minute and I'll be proving it to those... those... gentlemen!"
The chill in Spock's quick glance froze Scott in his tracks.
"I could not quite make that out, Mr. Spock. Would you be so good as to repeat what you said?" Hodin gave every appearance of amusement at the antics of the crew.
"The ship's engineer was saying that the malfunc-tion that existed has now been repaired," said Spock, a quelling eye on Scott. "We would like to test it immediately. I would like to transport down to your Council Chamber."
"But, Mr. Spock, you..."
Spock interrupted Hodin. "Your Excellency, grant this one request."
"You are a very persistent fellow, Mr. Spock."
A moment of tension passed while Hodin again consulted with his staff.
"All right, Mr. Spock." A whistling sound passed through the bridge as the entire crew released held breath. "You shall test the skill of your... er... very excitable repairman."
Scott's teeth ground in Chekov's ear. "He doesna ken what excitable is..." Chekov grinned at him, and whispered, "But he's letting him go... Wait."
"There is one further proviso. We cannot risk addi-tional incident. You will therefore transport a member of my staff to your ship. Let us first see if that works."
"Thank you, Your Excellency. Your proposal is ac-cepted." Spock turned to Scott. "Transporter Room, Mr. Scott, on the double."
"At once, Mr. Spock," said Scott, rather stiffly. He stalked to the elevator and punched the door.
On the screen, yet another assistant with a large book was talking to Hodin, who looked up.
"My assistant will provide you with the proper, what is the word?"
"Co-or-di-nates," said Spock, very clearly.
"Thank you. You may proceed."
The Gideonite assistant placed himself at a corner of the Council Chamber.
"875," he said.
"875, Mr. Scott," said Spock.
"875, aye."
"020."
"020."
"709."
"709?" The last number was repeated. Spock hesi-tated for a moment.
'709, Mr. Scott. Energize."
"Mr. Spock, the young gentleman from Gideon is here," Scott reported triumphantly.
"Very good, Mr. Scott." Spock turned to the screen. "Your assistant is safely arrived, Your Excellency. And now we would like to send down myself and if pos-sible, a few technicians to follow through on..."
"Now, now, now, Mr. Spock. Not so fast. That is quite a different matter. We agreed to allow one representative on our soil, your Captain alone. Now you suggest a 'few technicians.' And will the Feder-ation then demand an army of 'technicians' to hunt for these?"
Patiently, Spock said, "I will demand only one thing, Prime Minister; that I be permitted to beam down to your planet to search for the Captain."
"Your request," said Hodin, smoothly triumphant, "will be brought to the floor at the next session of Gideon's Council. Er... do not look forward to a favorable reply."
"Your Excellency!" Spock pressed the switch several times rapidly; the screen remained blank. He hit, the intercom.
"Mr, Scott. Send the gentleman from Gideon home."
"I was just beginning to think you might find a new career as a diplomat, Spock," said McCoy.
"Do not lose hope, Doctor. Lt. Uhura, contact Starfleet Command. Demand an instant reply to our request for permission to land on Gideon."
The room was tense as Uhura operated her con-sole.
"Enterprise to Starfleet Command."
"Enterprise to Starfleet Command."
"Enterprise to Starfleet Command." Kirk and Odona bent over the console, Kirk's fingers expertly flicking the controls.
"Captain Kirk here. Red Priority Alert. Do you read me? Red Priority Alert." The console impassively continued its normal light patterns.
"Isn't it working?" said Odona.
"It seems to be all right." Kirk flipped the manual control and held it open.
"Kirk here. Answer please. Red Priority Alert."
"If it is working someone must hear you," Odona said hopefully.
"There's nothing. If they do hear they aren't reply-ing."
"Why would they do that?"
"They wouldn't." Kirk glanced quizzically at her, then crossed the bridge to Sulu's board. With a few swift motions he altered the setting so that the lights showed a different pattern.
"I'm taking the ship out of warp speed."
"Out of what?" Odona looked utterly baffled.
Kirk laughed. "Space terminology. We're no longer moving faster than light. I trimmed her down to sublight speed till we can find out where we are."
"It doesn't feel any different."
"Well, no." Kirk was amused. Abruptly, his smile faded. "Maybe it isn't." He stared at the other consoles, one by one. No change was apparent.
He turned on the forward viewing screen. No motion was visible in the star-filled sky, still and remote.