Yeoman Doris Atkins sucked in her breath.
As the creature came nearer, however, it became obvious that it was but a very old man attired in a grotesque headdress made from the skin of a bat, and in some animal skin, apparently unique to this world. His face was wrinkled with age and there was a malevolent aura about him .
"The wizard-doctor," Grang murmured to them under his breath. "He is not truly a Wolf, but of the clan Shaman, which supplies the wizard-doctors and wizard-witches of all the clans of the tribe."
The small figure hobbled nearer. "I am Muel of the Shaman clan and an enemy of all raiders from space. Hence I curse you to death and-"
Grang shouted, "I demand a hearing before the Council of Patriarchs! These people are-these people are my friends!"
Doris Atkins whispered, "Thanks, Grang. It was a nice try."
But Captain Kirk said to the wizard-doctor, "Our God is evidently not your own, Muel, and it would seem unlikely that your curses would affect us. Take us to your council, since we have an important message for them and words of peace."
The shriveled little man glared at him, saying finally, "We shall see, stranger from the skies, if the curses of Shaman will apply to you. But meanwhile the council shall judge." He giggled evilly under his breath and turned.
The scurrying of feet in the background and the murmuring of many voices had fallen off, but now, about the wizard-doctor, a score of tall, hefty spearmen, weapons in hand, materialized. They appeared to be older, larger editions of Grang, and, like him, they wore ferocious-looking war paint Handsome specimens, they stared emptily at the Earthlings and Vulcan, but said nothing.
The wizard-doctor had spun on his heels, and now, hobbling, he led the way down what was evidently a side corridor leading from the main hall of the cavern. And as he went, he chuckled.
Sulu murmured, "He reminds me of a third-class villain in a third-class Tri-Di show."
And Chekov muttered back, "Unfortunately this isn't a Tri-Di show, and, frankly, I'm in no hurry to experience any of those curses our wizard-doctor friend was bragging about"
They made a turn here, a turn there, into one corridor and out into another. A turn to the right, a turn to the left.
Kirk said to his first officer, "It occurs to me that Scotty, up in the Enterprise, has lost his fix on us. If your tricorder doesn't work under this pile of radioactive rock, I doubt if the ship's sensors do, either."
"The same thought occurred to me, Captain," Spock said without emotion. "The situation has most interesting aspects."
"Mr. Spock, I sometimes suspect you will find interesting aspects about your own funeral. By the way, I assume you are memorizing these twistings and turnings."
The Vulcan raised his eyebrows. "But of course, Captain."
Doris Atkins said, "I don't know about Mr. Spock, but I'm lost I couldn't find my way back if it meant my life."
"Which it probably will," Sulu growled. "I wouldn't think a seeing-eye dog could get back through that maze."
"That will be all," the captain said. "Remember, we are here on a mission of peace, and as captain of a starship, I am legally an ambassador of the United Federation of Planets."
"Yes, but have these people even heard of the Federation?" Sulu muttered.
"Mr. Sulu!"
"Yes, sir."
They emerged eventually into a long cavern hall, which, happily, seemed somewhat lighter than the corridors through which they had passed. Their guard stayed behind as they entered.
The center of the hall was dominated by a great stone table set on six massive stone pillars. To the far side of it were seated seven elderly-looking Neolithians on roughhewn wooden stools.
Messengers must have dashed ahead to warn them of the coming of the strangers, since they seemed fully aware of the situation.
The oldest of all, who sat in the middle, said in a shaky voice, "Grang of the Wolf clan, though not yet a warrior among the warriors, still has reached the age where by tribal custom he can demand a hearing before the Council of Patriarchs. If he is denied his plea, punishment up to the death penalty may be decreed. Speak, Grang. You are charged with revealing our sanctuary to the raiders from the stars."
Captain Kirk said quickly, "We are not raiders. We have come from afar to answer a call for assistance. I suspect from what you say that the assistance is needed against these so-called raiders from space. Was it you who issued the call?"
The patriarch looked at him. "It is not you who are on trial, raider from space, but Grang. Your fate has already been sealed. Your sentence is the silent death which Muel of the Shaman clan will shortly administer. Speak, Grang."
Grang was obviously standing before the highest-ranking authority of his tribal society, but he was not browbeaten. He said in a strong voice, "I do not believe they are the raiders. I counted coup on the one who is known as Captain of the Kirks, but he took no vengeance on me. I believe they tell the truth, and thus I brought them to speak with the Council. Perhaps they can truly help us against our enemies."
Muel cackled his disgust of the opinion stated, but the head patriarch looked back at Kirk and his party thoughtfully. "And how did you plan to help us against our enemies?"
Captain Kirk took a deep breath. "As of now, we do not even know who they might be. But we have a powerful ship and weapons beyond any of which you know. As ambassador of the United Federation of Planets I can point out the advantages of your joining this great confederation one day and-"
But the old man was holding up a hand to silence him.
"Do not think us ignorant of Earth, the planet of our origin, Captain of the Kirks. Our bards still sing the sagas of Earth and how our people first fled from there to this planet."
"Fled?" Doris Atkins blurted out
The old man looked at her. "To flee the large cities that clogged the atmosphere with fumes. To escape the machines that transported men at hundreds, then thousands of miles an hour, and finally at speeds unbelievable. The gods meant men to walk, or at most to ride upon four-legged beasts. The gods designed men to eat the food of the fields or the flesh of animals, fresh from the hunters-not to partake of food from tins or frozen foods. Man is not a machine; he should not live among machines."
He looked away, as though into a far distance. "The bards sing us the sagas of how life was on Earth among devices enabling man to see or talk or hear a thousand miles and more, devices enabling him to kill his fellow-men by the million. Man combating his fellow man in honorable person-to-person combat for sufficient reason is one thing, but slaying the old and women and children, all with a tremendous explosion-this is blasphemy against the gods."
Kirk said, with possibly a slight element of apology in his voice, "Many mistakes are made on man's path of progress, but progress he must. That species that slows down and stops eventually dies."
The old patriarch was nodding. "Perhaps you are right, but here on Neolithia, our people came to find the old way, the simple way, as nature intended it And here we had found reasonable happiness until the coming of the raiders. Assuming your story is true, that you have come to help us, we refuse your help. We wish only to be left alone."
Spock injected a question. "And all this planet is the same? No industry, modern production, science, schools?"
The head patriarch frowned. "Nowhere. The ancestors of all of us on Neolithia came in the original ship which transported them and then returned, and all are equally against what you call modern life."
"Most interesting," Spock murmured.
The patriarch took a breath, and there seemed to be a trace of reluctance in his voice as he said, "We have fled to this retreat, but now, through the traitor Grang, you have discovered it We cannot allow you to leave, perhaps to betray us. Hence we must sentence you to the silent death. Muel!"
Kirk snapped, "Chekov, Sulu, Spock. Alert!"
Of a sudden the huge hall was filled with bowmen- scores, hundreds of Neolithian bowmen-arrows to the string and pulled back to the ear, re
ady for release. The odds were simply out of the question. The bowmen lined the walls, stood shoulder to shoulder upon ledges and in niches.
The Enterprise group had, apparently, only seconds to live.
Captain Kirk's eyes darted about, seeking escape, but there was nowhere to go. The entry through which they had come was blocked by the primitive, bow-armed warriors, and behind them, as far as the eyes could make out, were more warriors.
Kirk let out in desperation, "Comments, anyone?"
Sulu managed a hollow, bitter laugh.
Grang had closed his eyes, his youthful face pale beneath his war paint
Spock said, a slight element of surprise in his voice, "Comments upon what, Captain?"
Kirk looked at him. "We are under sentence of death , Mr. Spock. I expect that momentarily the order will be given for these bowmen to transfix us. Frankly, I can see no escape."
Mr. Spock's eyebrows rose. "What bowmen, Captain Kirk?"
4. ON TO MYTHRA
Captain James Kirk stared, bug-eyed, at his first officer. Then he swept his despairing eyes around at the horde of bowmen.
"Why-why, all these archers! They're about to shoot"
"Most interesting," Spock said. And then, as though in sudden comprehension, he added, "No wonder it is called the silent death."
The Vulcan turned his eyes to the malevolent Muel. "I should apologize. I underestimated your abilities. But you see, your mind is that of an Earthling, as are those of all my companions. However, my father was a Vulcan, and my mental makeup has variations on your own."
Muel's eyes suddenly widened, and he opened his mouth to shout
The reflexes of the Vulcan, however, were far faster than those of the aged wizard-doctor. His phaser came up and beamed, and the other crumpled to the floor, stunned.
The bowmen were gone!
The Earthlings, and Grang as well, were flabbergasted.
Spock said easily, "A most fascinating demonstration of ESP, Captain. Mass hypnotism carried to an extreme I have never been fortunate enough to witness before. I have no doubt that Muel could have literally killed you by making you think, you were being shot by his phantom bowmen."
"Fortunate enough?" Chekov blurted. 'That's one way of putting it, but personally, if I never witness such a display of ESP again, it'll be too soon."
Kirk snapped, "The Council I What happened to them?"
And all realized that in the excitement of the past moments, the tribal elders had drifted away into some unknown recess, leaving the execution to their wizard-doctor.
Grang said excitedly, "This way! Quickly! The warriors will soon be upon us."
Kirk looked at him. "I assume you mean the real tribal warriors. Very well, Grang, we're in your hands. We have nowhere else to go. Lead the way!"
Grang immediately dashed off into a small corridor that the others had not noticed before. The group from the Enterprise were hard put to keep up with him.
If they had been confused before by the curvings and turnings of the corridors, it was as nothing compared to the path along which the young Neolithian took them now. Indeed, at times it was necessary to drop to hands and knees and crawl behind him. Were there sounds of pursuit from behind? At times they thought so, and Chekov and Sum, still bringing up the rear, held their phasers at the ready.
However, they emerged at long last on a ledge overlooking the valley through which they had proceeded on the way to the cavern which sheltered the Wolf clan.
Grang pointed to a narrow path and said, "We can go down that way."
Kirk shook his head. "Hold it, boy." He brought his communicator from his tunic and flicked up the antenna grid.
"Kirk to Enterprise."
"Scott here," the Scotsman's burr came through, a trace of excitement evident. "We lost our fix on you, Captain."
"I know. Have the transporter officer prepare to beam us up."
"Aye, sir. I'll connect you with the transporter room."
Grang, frowning worriedly, said, "Captain of the Kirks, we must hurry. The warriors will soon be after us."
Kirk turned to him and said slowly, "Grang, our many thanks to you. But now we must leave. Evidently Neolithia was not the source of the call for assistance to which we are responding."
Grang looked at him blankly.
James Kirk said doggedly, "You must make your peace with your people. You are only a youngster, and undoubtedly when we are gone they will forgive you."
"Captain!" Sulu blurted. "You don't mean you're going to leave him here!"
Kirk looked at him coldly. "Can you think of an alternative?"
"We can take him with us to the Enterprise!"
"Today I seem continually to be forced to remind my junior officers of General Order Number One. In this case, to the section dealing with the fact that a native of a backward planet cannot be taken from his natural environment and exposed to a more sophisticated one."
"But-"
"That will be all, Mr. Sulu." However, there was a wan aspect to the face of James Kirk when he turned back to the young native. "Our thanks again, Grang, and best wishes. And now, farewell."
He brought his communicator to his mouth, and while the others of the group crowded around young Grang to press his hand and say their farewells, Kirk, unseen, closed his eyes as if to shut out a painful moment as he said into the instrument, "Transport room? Captain Kirk here. Beam us back to the ship."
Captain Kirk emerged wearily from the turbo-lift elevator into the confines of the bridge of the Enterprise. Senior Engineering Officer Scott came erect from the command chair.
Without speaking to the engineer, Kirk sank into the chair and said to the navigator, "Mister, set a course for the next planet What was its name-Mythra?"
"Aye, aye, sir."
Scott said, "Then this wasn't the planet?"
"Evidently not," Kirk said in disgust. "Far from having the equipment to send a subspace distress call, they couldn't have sent even a semaphore message."
The navigator said, "Sir, the course is one-eighteen, mark ten."
"Thank you." Kirk turned to the helmsman. "Mr. Akrumba, one-eighteen, mark ten, warp factor two."
Dr. McCoy entered, his face agitated. "Just a minute, Jim."
"Yes, Bones?"
"See here, Jim, I've been scanning the planet below. It's a primitive garden. There are lakes, streams, beaches, meadows."
"There most certainly are, Bones. It's practically an untouched wilderness, a Garden of Eden."
"Then I suggest that we make it an emergency leave center. Beam down the crew, say one third of them at a time, and allow them to let off a bit of steam. Swimming, fishing, perhaps a little hunting-whatever they can find to do to unwind, relax. The air is wonderful, the climate-"
Kirk said wearily, "I said practically untouched. Evidently things have happened so quickly, and possibly you were so tied up in your own duties, that you weren't following our experiences below. It so happens, Bones, that Neolithia has been colonized by what I suppose in the old days they called Nature Boys. They've deliberately gone back to primitivism. Above all, they don't like strangers from the skies; we escaped from them by the skin of our teeth. I can't submit the crew to the danger of attack, Bones."
"Very well, Jim, but you'll notice in my reports that I now have six crewmen in the sick bay being treated for minor attacks of cafard. I assume we can expect a major attack shortly if you insist on keeping this starship in space indefinitely."
"Thank you, Bones," the captain said. He shook his head wearily. His shoulders seemed to slump.
The chief engineer looked at him. "Something on your mind, Captain?" He grunted. "That is, something a wee bit more than usual?"
Captain Kirk shook his head in self-deprecation. "Yes, Scotty, old boy. I sometimes think that Starfleet Command should allow a captain more elasticity in obeying such rulings as General Order Number One."
Helmsman Sulu entered and, glancing up at the chronometer-calendar on the bulkhead, a
pproached the helmsman's chair before the bridge viewing screen and said formally, "Relieving the helm."
Lieutenant Akrumba said, "Helm relieved. Course one-eighteen, mark ten, warp factor two."
Sulu repeated, "Course one-eighteen, mark ten, warp factor two."
Akrumba stood, relinquishing the helmsman's chair, and stretched hugely. He grinned at his relief and said, "Well, Sulu, did you find any more exotic animals to add to your collection while you were down there on Neolithia?"
"Not exactly."
Lieutenant Uhura looked over from her position as communications officer and chuckled. "What does that mean ? Do we have a new exotic animal from Neolithia or not?"
Sulu squirmed slightly in his chair, his face unhappy.
Spock entered at that moment and approached Captain Kirk's command chair. Jim Kirk looked up.
"Something, Mr. Spock?"
"Yes, Captain. I have a stowaway to report"
"A stowaway!"
Sulu cleared his throat
Captain Kirk glared at him. "You know something about this, Mr. Sulu?"
"Well, not exactly, sir."
James Kirk said ominously, "You seem to be unusually evasive today, mister. What did you mean earlier when you said you didn't exactly bring a new exotic animal aboard?"
Sulu said earnestly, "He's not an animal and I didn't bring him aboard, sir. I was as surprised as the next man."
"And just who was the next man?"
"I suppose you would say Ensign Chekov, sir." James Kirk's eyes went back to Spock. "The more talk that goes on here, the less I seem to learn. Where did you find this stowaway?"
Spock said, "In the specimen container we took down to the surface of Neolithia, Captain. As you'll recall, we abandoned it in the clearing. Later, after we returned to the ship, I had the transport officer retrieve it, and I assigned Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov to return it to its original storage compartment"
"I see." The captain's eyes went back to the chief helmsman. "Well, Mr. Sulu?"
"Yes, sir. We obeyed orders."
"I see. And did you open it?"
"No, sir. Not for the time being."
"I see. When you two were carrying the specimen container to its storage compartment, didn't it seem a bit heavy?"
Star Trek - TOS - Mission to Horatius Page 4