by 12(lit)
He found himself in a circular chamber. To his left was a crookedly shaped window, but the chief feature of the room was a column, widened at its top to sup-port a transparent case. Within it was what seemed to be three blobs of protoplasm, veined and pulsating. No. Unskulled brains. Disembodied intellects, care-fully preserving themselves in the satanic pride of un-feeling intellect, active only in the cause of its absolute certitudes.
Kirk left the column for the window and looked out on a vast underground complex, and too convoluted to divulge its details.
"So that's your power source," he said. "Shielded by solid rock."
"We are one thousand of your meters beneath the surface," boasted Provider One.
Back at the brain case, Kirk said, "Primary mental development... primitive evolution."
And was promptly corrected by Provider Two. "That is not true, Captain. Once we had humanoid forms, but we evolved beyond them."
Provider Three became self-defensive. "Through eons of devoting ourselves to intellectual pursuits, we became physically simple, the mentally superior brains you see before you."
Kirk allowed his scorn to sharpen his voice. "A species which enslaves others is hardly superior- mentally or otherwise."
He seemed to have touched Provider One on a raw place. "The Thralls are necessary to our games, Captain. We have found athletic competitions our sole diversion-the only thing which furnishes us with purpose."
"An unproductive purpose," Kirk observed. "Most unworthy of the greatest intellects in the galaxy."
The irony got through.
"We only use inferior beings."
"Inferior. Encased as you are, you don't get around much. We do. And we have found all life forms capable of superior development under proper guid-ance. Perhaps you're not so grandly evolved as you think."
He disconcerted them into a moment of silence finally broken by Provider Three. "An interesting speculation, Captain. You and your people are most challenging."
"Yes, most challenging," agreed Provider Two. "It was hoped that such new blood would stimulate our stock of Thralls. How unfortunate that you must be destroyed!"
"Our destruction will only result in your own. You may control the Enterprise, but you cannot match the power of the entire Federation."
Another raw place in Provider One. "Your ship will be shattered to bits by a magnetic storm. No communication with your base will be possible. Your fate will remain an eternal mystery to your Federation."
Kirk gave no sign of his shocked dismay. Yet, in spite of it, he was thinking harder than he'd ever thought in his life. He laughed. "And you call your-selves 'superior'! Why, you're just run-of-the-mill mur-derers-killers without the spirit to really wager for the lives you take!"
An electronic murmur of excitement came from the case.
"Wager?" queried Provider One. "Explain yourself, Captain."
Kirk drew himself up to his full height. "My peo-ple are the most enterprising, successful gamblers in the universe. We compete for everything-power... fame... women... whatever we desire. It is our nature to win! I offer as proof our exploration of this galaxy."
"We are aware of your competitive abilities," pro-nounced Provider Three.
"Very well. Then I am willing to wager right now -and with any weapon you choose-that my people can overcome any fair number of Thralls set against them."
He'd been right. He'd caught them. Out of the case came the babble of bidding: "A hundred quatloos on the newcomers... two hundred against... four hundred against... five hundred for the newcomers... contest by multiple elimination!"
"Wait! Wait! Hear me out!" Kirk cried.
The voices stilled.
"We do not wager for trifles like quatloos! The stakes must be high!"
The silence prolonged itself until Provider One spoke. "Name your stakes, Captain."
"If my people win, the Enterprise and all its crew will leave here in safety. Furthermore, all Thralls on this planet will be freed."
"Anarchy! They would starve!"
Kirk ignored the comment. "They will be educated and trained by you to establish a normal, self-governing culture."
Incredulous, provider Three cried, "Thralls-gov-ern themselves? Ridiculous!"
"We have done this same thing with many, many cultures throughout the galaxy. Do you then confess you cannot do what we can?"
"There is nothing we cannot do," Provider Two declared.
"And if you lose, Captain?"
It was Provider One's question, but he knew that the other two were waiting intently for his answer.
There was only one to make, and he made it. "If we lose, we will stay here-the entire Enterprise crew-the most stubborn and determined competitors anywhere. We will become Thralls, taking part in your games and obeying all orders without rebellion. You will be assured of generations of the most exciting wagering you've ever had."
A long silence passed before Provider One said, "Your stakes are indeed high, Captain."
"Not for true gamesters!"
The intellects once more conferred in their elec-tronic mumble, their decision voiced by Provider Three. "We will accept your stakes on one condition, Cap-tain."
"Name it."
"As leader of your people, your spirit seems most indomitable. We suggest you alone-pitted against three contestants of our choosing."
"One against three? Those are pretty high odds, aren't they?"
A vein throbbed in the brain of Provider Three as it gave a small, taunting chuckle. "Not for true game-sters, Captain!"
Kirk shook his head. "Your terms are unfair."
"On the contrary," Provider One said. "They are ex-tremely fair inasmuch as your alternative is death."
Kirk gave himself time-time to think, time to con-sider the future of the Enterprise crew under the domination of these intellects, time to weigh it against his own death. If had been his life, the Enterprise and its people. Without them, death would be welcome.
"The wager is accepted," he said.
"Galt will prepare you."
It was extraordinary, the triumph the mere brain of Provider One could infuse into its thin, shrill voice. Then as abruptly as he'd appeared in the chamber, he was back in the gaming area, standing in the center triangle, faced by Lars, Kloog, Tamoon and Shahna.
He took the staff Galt handed him. As he hefted it, gauging its weight, the sharpness of its blade, the curve of its hook, Provider One spoke from a wall.
"Because you wager your skill for all your people, they will be permitted to watch the game's outcome on the ship's viewing screen."
And at the same moment, he heard Scott shout, "Mr. Spock, look!"
All right. They knew what he felt about them. So the fact that he was willing to die to preserve them would come as no surprise. Yet he wasn't prepared for the stricken voice of McCoy. "What in the name of Heaven is..."
Scott's Highland realism spoke for him. "Heaven's got very little to do with this, Doctor."
Spock held up a hand for silence. And all of them heard Provider One.
"Captain, you will defend."
"Jim, Jim," McCoy whispered.
But Provider One had more to say.
"Thralls must stay in the blue shapes. You will take the yellow ones, Captain. Touching an opponent's color deprives a contestant of one weapon. An op-ponent must be killed to be removed from the game. If only wounded, he is replaced by a fresh Thrall. Is that clear, Captain?"
"Clear."
"Very well. Begin."
Galt had pushed a dagger into Kirk's belt. Then a hooked net was hung over his right shoulder and a whip shoved into his hand. Four weapons, counting the quarterstaff. But his opponents only carried one, plus their daggers. Kloog, Lars and a strange Thrall positioned themselves in the blue shapes. A very strange Thrall, a bald thing, purple-skinned, its nose two holes covered by flaps of tissue, flapping up and down over its elementary nostrils with its breathing.
Kirk started with the staff.
All three
closed in on him simultaneously, forcing the Enterprise Captain to make a sweeping move from his yellow triangle in order to parry the bald thing's assault with its spear. Leaping from the triangle into a yellow circle, he drove Kloog into a blue hexagon. Like his physical agility, his mental ability was working faster than his opponents'.
But at once Lars had rushed him with his net, and the bald Thrall, who'd fled around a yellow square, was slashing at him with its spear blade. Cool, now that the issue was finally joined, Kirk extended the hook of his own around Lars's ankle, downing him directly into the path of the oncoming Kloog. He felled the blond giant only to see the hairless alien strike at him again with its staff blade.
A high jump lifted him from the circle, replacing him on the yellow triangle.
Back on his feet, Lars raised his net. Its meshes en-gulfed Kirk, catching him; and Kloog, his gorilla jaw jutted, backed off for an effective blow with his whip. Kirk, drawing his dagger swiftly, cut himself free of the tangle, and Lars, unbelievingly, stumbled, star-ing idiotically at his torn weapon.
Despite the bald Thrall's skill, its nose shields were flapping breathlessly. It ran up behind Kirk, snuffling like a pig at its trough; but whirling, Kirk had glimpsed a yellow pentagon to his left. He made its center and, turning, attacked the noseless thing with his staff, but it parried the strike with its own.
Kirk, however, had parried higher. Kloog, combined fear and rage inciting him, saw his chance and lashed Kirk around the body with his stinging, curling whip. Kirk's staff broke-broke in half. He wheeled, spun out of the whip, and, leaping from the pentagon, flung his staff's new-made spear at Kloog. It struck in the matted hair of his chest, drawing blood. He re-treated.
Lars, with his ripped net, at once took up Kloog's position. Its uncut meshes fell over Kirk and Lars raised his dagger for the kill. Looking at the heavy blond face, merciless, Kirk said to himself, "So this is it. Okay, I die. But so does everybody else in the end."
Was it that acceptance of mortality which gave him the momentary detachment he so needed? In it, as though from a great distance, he saw the bald thing lift its spear, hurl it at him, and he ducked it. It en-tered Lars's stomach.
Who's to know?
There are divinites that shape our ends of which we know nothing. Vigor renewed itself in Kirk. He strug-gled out of the net, and the bald alien, snatching it up, yanked its dagger from its belt. Now it was armed with net, dagger and quarterstaff.
It feinted with the staff, grabbing his whip from him, but Kirk reached for it, recovered it and threw it clear of the game floor. Now it was repellently close body contact with the freak, its nose shields fluttering in Kirk's face. He wrested himself free, making another forward leap to the yellow circle.
But once more the net descended. The bald one dived at him. Somehow, he released his dagger hand, and pushing the thing aside, lashed out with his own dagger across the purple body. It collapsed, not dead, but so wounded that it couldn't rise. And at once, as Lars had been, was dragged from the field of battle by expressionless fellow Thralls, moving in from the sidelines.
Behind it, it left a thick pool of purple blood. Kirk closed his eyes against the sight. What a planet! If this insane mayhem was the result of supreme intellect, the humanoids of the galaxy would be well advised to go back to primeval seas as protozoa.
He opened his eyes. Vaulting over a blue circle, he landed on the yellow triangle's sanctuary for what he had seen was Shahna, her spear lifted, racing at him from the sidelines to challenge him.
He moved unsteadily to meet her, the muscles of his legs unreliable and barely able to clutch the splintered half of his quarterstaff.
"You lied," she said. "Everything you said..." and lunged at him. He fell to one knee. Then hacking his way upright, he called on all his brute strength to get under her guard and drive his blade's point into her breast.
Kill a woman in cold blood. He'd never done it. He paused, but Shahna was preparing for the death thrust, pulling back to gain impetus for another lunge at him. Then she knocked his blade aside to press her own against his heart.
Their blades crossed, bringing them face to face.
Suddenly, her lower lip began to tremble. "You- you did lie."
Her whispered breath was fragrant as roses. And once more the indefinable shuttle between man and woman was moving, interlacing, as mysteriously pow-erful as the divinities shaping our ends. Would it continue its weaving? All she'd ever known was fighting; but love? Only what he'd been able to teach her.
The dark-lashed eyes were deep in his, asking, searching.
Tears flooded the eyes. Dropping her blade, she turned to a wall, crying, "The Thralls surrender!"
He'd have to leave her, but he'd made a woman out of her. And who was to profit by her loveliness? Kloog... the bald horror? There were disadvantages to command of a Starship, roaming, roaming endlessly through the galaxy.
He was about to take her in his arras when he heard the voice of Provider One.
"You have won, Captain Kirk. Unfortunately. How-ever, the terms of the wager will be honored. You are free. Remove your collars. Thralls, hear me!"
Kirk placed his hand on Shahna's collar. It came away easily. Then as he removed his own, he heard clash after metallic clash of other collars striking the floor. Shahna stared at the broken symbol of her slavery in his hand, unbelieving. Then the sapphire eyes veered to him. At the look in them, it was just as well that Galt reached them, carrying his former pris-oners' phasers and communicators.
Kirk addressed a wall. "The Thralls will he trained?"
"They will be trained. We have said it, Captain Kirk."
"You may find that a more exciting game than the one you have been playing. A body is no good without a brain. But you've found a brain isn't worth much without a body."
Shahna said, "Darling."
He looked down at her. No, they could share no future. If only... He pulled himself together. "I didn't lie, Shahna. I only did what was necessary. Someday, you'll understand."
"I-I understand a... little. You will leave us now?"
He nodded, unable to speak.
"To go back to the lights in the sky? I... want to go to... those lights... with you. Take me."
"I can't."
"Then teach me how, and I'll follow you."
Providers, witnesses notwithstanding, he took her in his arms. "There are many things you have to learn first-things the Providers will teach you. Learn them. All your people must learn them before you can reach for the stars."
Holding her closer, he kissed her.
"Goodbye, darling, my darling."
Then he released her; and striding quickly across the board, joined the awed Chekov and Uhura. Nor did he look back as he opened his communicator.
"Beam us up, Mr. Scott."
The well-known voice said, "Aye, sir."
Alone on the board, Shahna watched the shimmer as his body went into sparkle-and he was gone with his people.
She bowed her head to hide the tears. "Goodbye, my Kirk. I will learn. And watch the lights in... the sky... and always, always remember."
So would he. But gradually-and mercifully-the memory of Triskelion's beautiful woman would begin to fade, along with the sweetness of her breath on his face.
AND THE CHILDREN SHALL LEAD
(Edward J. Lakso)
From standard orbit, the planet Triacus appeared perfectly normal, even placid. But Starfleet Command had received a distress call. No details had been in-cluded.
"Isn't Triacus where Professor Starnes and his ex-pedition are working?" asked Captain Kirk.
Mr. Spock nodded. "It's the only M-type planet in the system. According to the records, Dr. Starnes and his colleagues found it sufficiently pleasant to bring their families along."
"Starnes taught at the Academy. I remember him- nice old fellow. And knew his stuff."
"He is a very capable scientist, Captain."
"Prepare the Transporter Room. You and I and Dr.
McCoy will beam down in ten minutes."
"Certainly, Captain."
It was a dry, dusty sort of place to have chosen to set up camp. Rock formations emerged from the flat ground, the sun casting sharp shadows. The few list-less shrubs were drab, except for the spatters of bright red blood.
Picks and water bottles lay scattered among the fallen bodies of men and women. Shocked, McCoy knelt to examine a crumpled shape that still held a weapon pointed at its own ruined head.
"Dr. Starnes!" Kirk's shout burst the stunned silence. Over the rock stumbled a wild-haired middle-aged man who fell to his knees as his shaking hands held a phaser pistol aimed straight at the Captain.