Double, Double

by Michael Jan Friedman

  It wasn't a long trip, really, from the transporter room to the captain's cabin. Most of it was spent in the turbolift.

  By the time DeLong reached the right level, however, her knees were a little weak. Steeling herself, she exited the lift and negotiated the length of the corridor. It was quiet here, as most of the command staff was either up on the bridge or planetside, engaged in the search.

  She stopped before the captain's door, knocked once. She was just about to knock a second time, thinking that the first knock had perhaps been too timid, when the door slid aside.

  The captain was standing just inside the doorway. She couldn't tell if he had just arrived or was about to leave.

  He looked at her.

  "Yes, Ensign?"

  For a moment, she had the same feeling that she'd had the other day in the corridor. That the captain didn't know her from Adam. But that couldn't be. Not after that business in the gym, and what he had said to her afterward.

  No. He was just acting the way a commanding officer is supposed to act: aloof, reserved.

  "Begging your pardon, sir," she began, "but I understand you're going back down to the shuttlecraft."

  Kirk continued to stare. Then, it was as if he'd shaken off some matter that preoccupied him, and he smiled a little. "News travels fast on this ship." He stepped aside and gestured politely. "Please come in, Ensign. There's no need to discuss whatever you've come about out here in the corridor."

  DeLong entered, found a spot where she could stand. The captain gestured again.

  "Have a seat," he told her.

  She took the proffered chair—an antique wood-and-leather affair that must have dated back to the twentieth century. It stood beside a bookcase of the same vintage—and actually filled with books, rather than tapes.

  "Now then," said Kirk, pulling up one of the ship's standard chairs, "what's on your mind, Ensign?"

  She looked him in the eye. "When you go back down there," she said, "I want to be part of the relief party."

  He seemed to consider her words individually. "I see," he said after a while. He leaned back in his chair. "Actually, I had already picked out some individuals to accompany me."

  DeLong had been expecting that. It didn't faze her.

  "I appreciate that, sir. But those are people who've been ordered to go. Surely, it's better to have someone in the shuttlecraft who really wants to be there."

  The captain's gaze appeared to intensify. "I can't help but agree," he said. "But why do you want to be there?"

  She lifted her hands out of her lap, let them fall back again. "I want to help," was what came out. And of course, that was part of it, so she wasn't exactly lying.

  "A sense of duty," he offered.

  "Something like that," she said. "And a desire to see a killer brought to justice."

  The captain's eyebrows went up. "Killer?" he echoed. "We don't know that just yet. All we know is that people have disappeared."

  She nodded. "Yes sir. Make that kidnapper, then. I'd like to see him stopped."

  Kirk leaned forward again. "Very well, Ensign. You've gotten yourself a berth. Be ready to leave as soon as you're called."

  She suppressed a grin. "Thank you, sir. You won't regret it."

  Chapter Twenty

  WHEN KIRK MATERIALIZED in the transporter room of the Hood, Joaquin Martinez and his officers were there to greet him.

  "Jim," said Martinez.

  Kirk stepped off the transporter platform, shook his friend's hand. "It's been a long time," he said.

  "Too long," said Martinez. "I'm glad to have you aboard—although I have to admit, I don't quite understand the circumstances."

  Kirk grunted. "Neither do I, I'm afraid. But I can assure you, I intend to learn."

  "Of course," said Martinez. He indicated his command staff with a sweep of his arm. "Let me introduce you to some of my people."

  Kirk recognized a couple of them—Commander Stuart and Banks, the science officer. The others were presented to him one at a time.

  But after he'd finished, it seemed to him that someone was missing. He turned back to Martinez.

  "Vedra," he said, plucking the name out of memory. "Your engineering officer. Is she still with you?"

  The captain's expression suddenly went slack.

  Kirk looked at the others, saw similar dismay. He gathered that he'd uncovered some kind of sore spot.

  "Lieutenant Vedra," said Martinez finally, "is dead, Jim."

  Kirk's heart sank.

  "Damn," he said. "I'm sorry, Joaquin."

  Martinez nodded. "So am I."

  He placed a hand on Kirk's shoulder.

  "Come on," he said. "We can talk on the way to your quarters."

  Kirk nodded, followed him out. Nor did he compound his error by bringing up the subject of Vedra again.

  It wasn't long before they reached the cabin that had been set aside for him. Martinez opened the door.

  "Is this all right for you?" he asked.

  Kirk took in the room at a glance. It was well appointed for a visitor's cabin.

  "Fine," he said. "More than I expected, Joaquin."

  Martinez shrugged. "It's not every day I get a chance to play host to another starship captain."

  "No," said Kirk. "I imagine not."

  Martinez indicated one of the two seats in the room. "Mind if I sit down for a while? Or do you want to get some shut-eye?"

  Kirk shook his head. "No. Stay. Shut-eye's the least of my problems."

  Martinez sat.

  Kirk looked at him. "Joaquin, I need to know what's happened to my ship. When I last saw her, we were being held in this sector against the possibility of hostilities with the Romulans. Do you know if …"

  "If those hostilities ever materialized?"

  "Well … yes."

  Martinez smiled sympathetically. "No, Jim. They haven't. Unfortunately, that's all I can tell you about the Enterprise. We haven't had any contact with her—direct or otherwise."

  Kirk frowned. "I suppose no news is still good news." Martinez regarded him. "Then you have no idea at all what happened to her?"

  "None," he confirmed.

  "I see." Martinez gazed at his open palms, rubbed his hands together. "If you were to tell me what happened to you, maybe we could come up with some theories. That is, unless …"

  "It's all right," said Kirk. "I'm mortified, but I'm not that mortified."

  Martinez smiled again. "Good."

  Kirk laid out all the details for him, just as they happened.

  By the time he had finished, the captain of the Hood seemed lost in thought.

  "So," he said finally, "you never found out any more about this con man for whom you were mistaken?"

  "The portmaster made some inquiries for me among the various ships' captains—but none of them remembered anyone who particularly fit my description. Of course, he probably hadn't had time to shop around for the cheapest passage. More than likely, he'd hopped the first outbound vessel."

  "Right," said Martinez. "Then, for all you know, he never even existed in the first place. I mean, you have no proof."

  Kirk shrugged. "Only what the Rythrian told me." He peered at his opposite number. "Why? What are you getting at?"

  Martinez stood, placed his hands in the small of his back, and stretched. "Just bear with me for a minute," he said. He stopped stretching, but his hands remained clasped behind him. "Now, outside of the portmaster—Kaith—and the ones who held you prisoner, no one could vouch for your existence either. Right?"

  "Right," said Kirk. "But is that important now?"

  "Maybe not to you," said Martinez.

  And before Kirk could move, there was a phaser pointed at his face.

  "But to us, it's quite important."

  Kirk looked past the phaser at Martinez.

  "If this is a joke," he said, "it's not funny."

  "It's no joke," said the other man.

  "Then I don't get it, Joaquin. But I'll venture a guess
that there's some connection between what happened to me in Tranktown and what's happening to me here. Am I right?"

  Martinez nodded. "It's to your credit that you escaped our trap," he said, "that you managed to make it this far. But your death is essential."

  "To whom?" asked Kirk. "Who's this us you referred to?"

  He had hoped the question would distract Martinez, but the phaser remained where it was. Nor did Kirk see anything close at hand that could be used as a counterweapon.

  "There's no need for you to know that," said Martinez. "You may think of us as those who will replace you—those who will realize the full potential of the human race."

  It wasn't so much the words themselves as the way he said them. Kirk racked his brain to remember where he had heard that tone of voice before.

  "Look," he said, "there's got to be a way to work this out, Joaquin. You don't have to kill me to—"

  "There is no other way," insisted Martinez.

  "And it's worth the risk you're taking? Losing everything you worked so hard to attain?"

  It was plain from the man's expression that he wasn't going to tolerate too many more questions. Kirk tensed, ready to grab for the phaser as soon as Martinez opened his mouth.

  He was completely unprepared for what happened next: the sliding aside of the door and the sudden appearance of a figure in Medical Corps blue.

  Apparently, Martinez hadn't been expecting company either—because he whirled as if to fire.

  Seeing this, Kirk sprang. The phaser fired, emitting a beam of dark red energy that ripped screechingly through the heavy metal of the bulkhead—but missed the newcomer.

  For a moment, the two starship captains were locked in a struggle for the weapon. Then, suddenly, Kirk felt himself flung across the cabin, into the bunk that had been prepared for him.

  Before he had time to wonder at the other man's strength, he realized that Martinez's effort had cost him the phaser. It was scuttling noisily across the deck, unattended.

  Kirk dived for it, closed his hand about it—and then Martinez was on top of him, twisting with unholy force. Kirk howled with pain and the phaser came squirting free.

  Abruptly, he found himself up again—pinned to the wall with just one of Martinez's hands. The other drew back, met the side of his face with bludgeoning force.

  Everything went black for a second. Then he was awake again and Martinez was cocking his fist for another blow.

  "Stop it!" cried a feminine voice.

  Drawn to it, Kirk saw the medical officer—noted for the first time that she was a woman.

  "Don't move," she said. "Either of you."

  "Kai," said Martinez, peering at her over his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. I—"

  "It won't work," she said. "I saw you aim this thing at me. And it's set to kill." She adjusted the force setting down to stun. "Now—slowly—let him go."

  Martinez did as he was told—at first. But no sooner did Kirk feel himself released than the other man whirled and lunged.

  He was just the least bit too slow. The phaser beam hit him full in the chest, knocking him off his feet.

  In the aftermath of the blast, nobody moved—least of all, Martinez. He lay twisted on the metal decking, his head at an angle that wasn't very pleasant to look at.

  Kirk's eyes locked with the woman's as he knelt beside Martinez.

  "I … I thought it was on stun," she said softly.

  Kirk felt the man's neck for a pulse. There wasn't any.

  And even at close range, a stun setting shouldn't kill.

  Then he noticed something. Something strange on the other side of Martinez's face.

  Gently, he turned the man over.

  And saw the flesh peeled back, to reveal not bloody tissue and bone …

  … but a complexity of tiny, mangled gears and fizzling wires. A thin stream of smoke rose from a short circuit, carrying with it the acrid smell of burnt metal.

  There was a gasp from the woman, and then she was kneeling alongside Kirk—the phaser cradled carelessly in her hand.

  "He's … he's not human," she said.

  "No," Kirk agreed. And with the utmost caution, he wrested the phaser from her nerveless grasp.

  Now he remembered where he had heard that tone of voice before—along with the words themselves.

  Imagine it, Captain. A world with no corruption, no suffering, no death …

  Rising to his feet, he pressed the plate that controlled the door. It hissed closed. Then he turned to the medical officer, training the phaser on her without making it obvious.

  "Scratch yourself, Doctor."

  She looked up at him—puzzled, dazed.

  "Scratch yourself."

  Abruptly, she understood. Pressing her fingernail against the back of her hand, she made a quick slash. A moment later, there was a pinkish streak with a red line at the center of it.

  "Satisfied?" she asked.

  He nodded. Then he took his own fingernail and brought it across the back of the hand that held the phaser. He showed her the result.

  "It's important," he said, kneeling again, "that we both be satisfied—if we're to trust one another." He looked into her dark eyes, eyes that had betrayed her shock but were now steady again. "My name is Jim Kirk—captain of the Enterprise."

  She nodded. "Yes. I know." A pause. "I'm Kai Chin, Chief Medical Officer." Another pause. "What do you know about … this?"

  Kirk grunted, surveying Martinez's ruined visage. "More than I care to admit," he said. "Even to myself." He recalled the log entry concerning Doctor Roger Korby, his recent conversation with Christine Chapel.

  Had his kindness somehow come back to haunt him?

  "I saw something very much like this once before," he explained. "On a planet called Exo III."

  The doctor's delicate brow creased. "Exo … why, we stopped there not long ago. To pick up some geologists who'd been shipwrecked there."

  Suddenly, Kirk's mouth was dry. He swallowed.

  "Geologists? What were their names?"

  Chin frowned, thinking. "Brown. And Zezel. They were survivors of the Roger Korby expedition." She looked into his eyes, penetrating. "You know them, don't you?"

  Kirk shrugged. "I've met Brown, though … Oh, hell. Let's start from the beginning, Doctor."

  He told her everything. About his encounter with Korby—or at least, the thing that in some sense carried Korby inside it. About the machine that created android duplicates. And about the way Korby had met his end.

  "I thought," he said, "that he was the last of them. But I must have been wrong. Somehow, one or more of them survived—and was able to operate the machine."

  Chin nodded. "So when Martinez and the others beamed down, they were duplicated. And then killed."

  "And these things," Kirk added, "were able to replace them here on the Hood—without anyone suspecting."

  "Then those containers …" The doctor's voice trailed off.

  "What containers?" he asked.

  "They beamed up these huge containers," she told him. "And their contents were kept a secret. But if you say they were looking for a planet on which to set up their machine … someplace with an ample supply of human beings to duplicate …"

  Kirk looked at her. "Those containers could have held the components of the dismantled duplication machine."

  "Exactly," she said.

  "And what happened to them?"

  "We dropped them—and Brown—on a colony planet called Midos Five."

  Kirk cursed beneath his breath. "That was the world," he said, "that Korby picked out for his base of operations—with the help of my android counterpart."

  "Then Brown could be carrying out Korby's plan even as we speak." Chin scowled. "Kidnapping colonists and duplicating them."

  "And what about the other geologist?" he asked. "Did you drop him off on Midos Five also?"

  The doctor shook her head. "No. We left him on Tranquillity Seven."

  Kirk chuckled bitterly. "I see,"
he said. "Or I'm beginning to. Martinez mentioned that a trap had been set for me on Tranquillity Seven. It would seem that this Zezel is the one who set it."

  And then the truth hit him like a ton of dilithium crystals, nearly crushing him beneath its weight.

  The android Korby created in Kirk's likeness …

  Zezel dropped off on Trank Seven …

  A con man who resembled him enough to be mistaken for him …

  The departure of the Enterprise, without any evidence of concern regarding his whereabouts.

  "What is it?" asked Chin. "You just lost about two shades of color."

  He snorted. "That's not all I've lost. Unless I miss my guess, there's an android sitting in the command chair of the Enterprise. And I'll be damned if I know what he's done with her."

  Kirk found that he was trembling.

  "I sympathize with you," she said. "Really—I do. But we have more immediate concerns on this ship."

  With an effort, he calmed himself. Finally, the trembling stopped. "Yes," he said. "You're right." He regarded her again. "Who else besides Martinez beamed down to Exo III?"

  The doctor bit her lip. "Stuart and Banks, the first time. That is, the first officer and the science officer. Then, on subsequent occasions, Bodrick, the navigator, and Michaux, the helmsman. And Simmons, the security chief. In fact, I'd say that everyone in security section was down there at one time or another."

  Kirk's skin crawled. Only minutes ago, he'd been surrounded by these people in the transporter room.

  "Did any of them see you enter this cabin?" he asked.

  "No," said Chin. "The corridor was empty when I got here."

  He stared at her for a moment. "Come to think of it, why did you enter this cabin?"

  "We suspected something was wrong—we being myself and Lieutenant Paultic, the communications officer. There was evidence here and there—the death of our chief engineer and other things."

  "Vedra," Kirk interjected.

  She blinked, perhaps a little surprised that he knew. "Yes, Vedra. So when there was so much secrecy regarding your arrival, I decided to find out which quarters had been assigned to you—and to barge in behind my prerogatives as a ship's doctor, come to examine a visitor on board."

  "But actually hoping to learn more about what was wrong."