Double, Double

by Michael Jan Friedman

  "What's the matter with you?" he asked Silverman. 'Have you gone crazy?"

  "Careful," said DeLong, her voice sounding vague and distant in her head. "He's not human—he's an android." She felt the blood draining from her face, fought to stay conscious. "Get the phaser."

  Critelli looked at her for an instant, trying to grasp what she had said. By the time the android got up, he must have igured out enough of it.

  Because as Silverman came for him, he spotted the phaser. Dived for it. And came up firing.

  The beam lanced out, stopped the android cold. He collapsed in a heap.

  Darkness flitted at the edges of DeLong's vision. She had the sense that her legs had given way, that she too had collapsed.

  And for a moment, she did lose consciousness.

  When she awoke, Critelli was holding her in his arms, pushing perspiration-matted curls off her forehead, desperately repeating her name.

  "I … I'm okay," she told him. Then, realizing that they were safe for the moment, she smiled. "Critelli," she said. "You saved my life."

  He seemed not to have heard her. "Doctor McCoy had me prowling around down here looking for bodies," he said. "Otherwise, I never would have found you in …"

  She had never noticed how lovely those dark eyes of his were.

  "Blazes! What happened here?"

  She looked past Critelli and saw Valjean, an officer in science section. He was staring at Silverman's crumpled form as he approached.

  "He's an android," said Critelli. "A stun beam barely stopped him."

  "It's true," said DeLong, still a little dull. "And he's not alone. There are androids all over the ship."

  Valjean eyed her. "You know that for a fact?"

  She nodded. "Even the captain's an android."

  "Where'd you hear that?" asked Valjean.

  "What's the difference?" said Critelli. "Just get hold of sickbay. Can't you see she's been hurt?"

  Without another word, Valjean moved to comply.

  It had taken longer than Kirk had hoped.

  Once he'd seen the captain coming after him, the android had fired a few shots and taken off—retreated down the corridor and around the next bend. It meant proceeding at a snail's pace—for at any moment, the android might come back around the corner and fire.

  As it turned out, Kirk had given his adversary more credit than he deserved. For as the captain peered around the bend, drawing a perfunctory blast, he saw that the android was positioned near the end of the corridor—the same place he had occupied in their last standoff.

  By that time, of course, Scotty and some of the others had caught up. And once again, Kirk had his cover fire.

  This time, when he darted into the corridor, the android held his ground. And it was his immobility that gave a moving Kirk the advantage. The captain's first diving, rolling shot found its mark.

  Now, it was a matter of overtaking the other android—or androids. Kirk sprinted the length of the corridor, made the turn ready to fire. Seeing no one, he launched into a dead run again.

  The passageway to the left was the one that contained the intercom. It was there the captain would discover if he was in time or not.

  His breath rasping in his throat, his blood pumping in his temples, Kirk pounded his way down the echoing corridor. Slowed as he approached the turn. Tried to visualize the position of the intercom, get an idea of the direction in which he'd have to fire.

  Came around it, skidding on the deck surface, phaser held high.

  What he saw was not quite what he had expected. A form in security red lay twisted on the deck, apparently unconscious. A little farther down the corridor, the crewman named Critelli was aiding an injured Denise DeLong.

  But beyond them, there was someone at the intercom with his back to Kirk. He wasn't dressed like a security officer—but neither was the captain taking any chances.

  Firing, he dropped the figure at the intercom. Then, ignoring the fallen officer and Critelli and DeLong for the moment, he came up to the intercom box.

  "Valjean? Damn it, are you still there?"

  Even above the commotion made by the approach of Scotty and his engineers, Kirk had no trouble recognizing the voice on the other end.

  It was his own.

  * * *

  Something had happened to Valjean before he could complete his warning. But Kirk had heard enough.

  The crew—or at least part of it—was on to them. Had the P'othparan finally been able to make them listen? Or had the human Kirk's accusations borne fruit after all?

  No matter. They had lost the Enterprise.

  It was a bitter pill to swallow. Kirk looked around him—at the bridge, at all it represented. In a way, hadn't all his efforts been for this—as much as for android domination of the Federation?

  The Enterprise had been more than a symbol. It had been a goal in itself.

  But survival must be preeminent. Perhaps, if they moved quickly enough …

  "Mister Spock," he said. "Sulu, Chekov. Come with me."

  And without hesitation, he headed for the turbolift.

  "Sir?" said the communications officer who had replaced Uhura, looking as if he had missed something. "Don't you want me to call for relief?"

  Kirk said nothing. He didn't look at the communications officer. He didn't look back at all.

  When the lift doors opened, he stepped inside. And the others were right behind him. A moment later, the doors closed, leaving the bridge virtually unmanned.

  "Shuttle deck," he told the computer.

  "We have been discovered," said Spock. He said it matter-of-factly, as if it had no immediate significance.

  "Yes," said Kirk. "We have been discovered. But all is not lost. We will take one of the shuttlecraft to the nearest Federation outpost. It should be quite feasible, given that we have no need for life support, and all power can be used for propulsion."

  "And then?" asked Spock.

  "Then," said Kirk, "we will resume our efforts."

  "To carry out the Creator's design?"

  Kirk looked at him. "Of course. Did you have something else in mind?"

  Spock shook his head. "No. I do not."

  "What about the others, sir?" asked Sulu.

  "There is no time," said Kirk. "Nor do we need any additional personnel. They will have to fend for themselves."

  He didn't miss the eyebrow raised by Spock.

  Then the doors opened. The entrance to the shuttle bay was just across the corridor, shadowy in the dim light provided by backup power.

  Slumped against the entrance panel was a crewman—one of the injured not yet discovered by McCoy's roving rescue parties. When he saw Kirk and the others, he smiled gratefully.

  "Am I glad to see you, sir." His voice was weak, rasping. "I think my legs are—"

  Before he could finish, Kirk reached down and grabbed him by his shirtfront. Then, with minimal effort, he tossed the man aside.

  Shutting out the screams of pain, Kirk pressed the plate beside the entrance panel. His fingerprints matched those in the authorization file; the panel slid aside for him.

  The four of them entered the benighted shuttle bay. The clatter of their heels echoed throughout the expanse of the chamber.

  Kirk stopped at the Columbus, opened the hatch. He turned to the others.

  "Wait here," he said. "I want to make sure the craft is fueled and fit."

  "We can help," suggested Spock. "It would expedite matters."

  Kirk waved a hand at him. "It's all right, Mister Spock. I prefer to do this myself."

  Climbing into the shuttle, he proceeded directly to the ocker where the phasers were kept. Opening it, he removed one, checked to see that it was operational. Then he returned to the open hatch.

  The other three were still standing exactly where he had eft them. He swung himself out of the Columbus.

  And pointed the phaser at Spock.

  "I have had enough of your insubordination," he said. "I have decided to termi
nate it."

  Spock regarded him, but that was all. He made no effort to escape.

  "Keptain," said Chekov, "are you certain you want to—"

  Kirk whirled, trained the phaser on the navigator instead. "Shut up," he told Chekov.

  Chekov fell silent.

  Kirk turned back to face Spock. Still, the first officer hadn't moved.

  "What you are about to do," said Spock, "is most illogical. I can be useful in carrying out the Creator's purpose."

  Kirk felt a twinge of the hot and writhing thing that had consumed him on the bridge.

  "More useful than I?" he said. "Isn't that what you mean, Spock?"

  Spock shrugged. "The comparison is unnecessary."

  And yet, there it was. Kirk glanced at Sulu and Chekov—saw that they had made the comparison themselves and had come to the same conclusion as the first officer.

  "Damn you," he told Spock.

  And fired the phaser.

  For a brief moment, the android was enveloped in a shimmering light. Then he was gone, as if he had never existed in the first place.

  Kirk felt a great satisfaction. He turned to the others.

  "Come," he said. "We've delayed long enough."

  "Not so fast," came a cry from the entranceway.

  Once Kirk had learned that his double was no longer on the bridge, he had taken Scotty and headed straight for the shuttle deck.

  Why? It was what he would have done, had the circumstances been reversed.

  They arrived just in time to see the flash of phaserlight in which the Spock android vanished. Nor was it a pleasant sight for the captain—too much like watching the destruction of the real Mister Spock.

  Then he saw his double turning toward the open shuttle hatch, and he couldn't help but call out a challenge. After all, this was the being who had sentenced him to death at the hands of the Rythrian. Who had taken over his ship, nearly destroyed it.

  Kirk wanted him to know he'd caught up with him.

  It almost proved his undoing. The android whirled at the sound of his voice and fired. A beam of deadly phaser energy erupted in the captain's direction.

  "Watch out!" cried Scotty, shoving him out of the way. The phaser beam struck the bulkhead exactly where they had been standing.

  Again the android fired, and again they scrambled—across the deck this time, sprinting for the cover of the other shuttles. Phaser blasts punctuated the darkness in short bursts, but none of them came as close as the first one.

  And finally, they were pressed up against the cool, titanite hull of the Galileo II, safe for the moment. They looked at one another.

  "Split up," said Kirk. He did little more than shape the words with his mouth, but Scotty understood. They had to keep moving. Crawling over to the bow of the shuttle, the chief engineer peeked out beyond it. Then, satisfied that here was no one waiting for him there, he disappeared.

  The captain moved around to the stern, tried to see around it. Nothing.

  But then, he was only human. The androids could no doubt see better in this near lightlessness. And move more silently as well.

  There has to be some way to even the odds. And just as he thought that, he knew what that way might be.

  "You can't get away," he called. His words rang and echoed. "It's the end of the road for you—android." A cliché, but it would have to do.

  Quickly, he scurried around the other side of the shuttle so his adversaries couldn't locate him by his voice. He scanned the shadows, waited.

  "It's you who can't get away," returned the other Kirk.

  Good. He's taken the bait.

  "You'll be blasted as soon as you take off," said the human. He moved again, darting across the space between he Galileo II and the Copernicus. When he reached the atter, he paused to listen. Still nothing.

  "Will I?" answered the android. He too had moved. His voice was coming from somewhere else now. "And who will give the order? With you dead, no one will know who's in the shuttle."

  Kirk didn't know if he had actually heard a sound or only sensed someone above him. But as he looked up, he saw a silhouette begin to separate itself from the roof of the Copernicus.

  He fired—and for a moment, he saw the figure of Lieutenant Sulu, caught in a coruscating mantle of light. Then the illumination was gone, and so was Sulu.

  "I've got your helmsman," said Kirk, knowing how much it sounded like a chess move. Captain to android's pawn one.

  He slid alongside the Copernicus, moving slowly toward the bow.

  "I don't need him," said the android. "You must know I'm fully capable of piloting a shuttlecraft."

  Here was his chance.

  "You weren't much good at directing the Enterprise. What makes you think you can handle a shuttle?"

  Was that a shadow he saw? Or the shoulder of a poorly concealed adversary? He edged closer.

  "I held four Romulan birds-of-prey at bay," countered the android. But there was a trace of anger in his voice. "And I kept this ship in one piece."

  "You were lucky," said Kirk. "The Romulan commander was inexperienced. Or just plain stupid."

  No, he realized. Only a shadow—I was right the first time.

  "Otherwise," he continued, "the Enterprise would have been space debris."

  He decided to try Sulu's tactic. Using one hand, he climbed the built-in ladder in the side of the craft.

  "No!" said the android. His voice was getting noticeably thicker. "I did the best that could have been done. No one could have commanded her better."

  "Not true," said Kirk, "and you know it. You blundered. You crippled the ship." He paused before he launched his last salvo. "You aren't fit to command!"

  Even he wasn't prepared for the snarl of fury that elicited. Quickly, he hoisted himself the rest of the way onto the roof.

  "It's you who isn't fit, Kirk! You're a human—a fragile, inferior human!"

  There was a rapid shuffle of footsteps. A string of muttered curses.

  The android had thrown caution aside. He had reached his breaking point—just as Banks had on the bridge of the Hood. It was what Kirk had been hoping for.

  Now it was just a matter of pinpointing the source of the sounds. There. He's coming around the Ptolemy. Getting closer.

  "Kirk? Where are you, Kirk?"

  Just a matter of setting himself. Taking aim. Waiting …

  "Captain—on your left!"

  Kirk spun around in response to Scotty's cry—saw the Chekov android perched on the roof of the Ptolemy, his phaser pointed in the captain's direction.

  Desperately, he half rolled, half flung himself off the Copernicus. There was a splendid display of phaserlight, and a screaming of tortured metal, and a jarring impact as the deck rose to meet him.

  It took a moment before he realized that the beam had missed him. But as he gathered his feet beneath him, he felt something grip his shoulder—spin him around.

  And suddenly, he was looking into the face of the other Kirk. The android was smiling.

  "Now," he said, "we'll see who's fit."

  The human tried to bring his phaser up, but the android grabbed the wrist of the hand that held it. And squeezed.

  There was an audible crack as one of the bones in Kirk's wrist snapped. He cried out, but he couldn't hang on to the phaser. It made a clattering sound as it hit the deck.

  Still gripping him by his broken wrist, the android shoved him up against the Copernicus.

  "It hurts," he said, "doesn't it? I can recall pain—from your memories of it—but I cannot feel it."

  His eyes seemed to burn in the darkness. Kirk could almost feel the heat of them on the flesh of his face.

  "That is what makes us different," said the android. "I feel … nothing."

  As if to emphasize his point, he twisted. Waves of agony shot up Kirk's forearm.

  But he did not allow himself to scream. He didn't want to give his look-alike the satisfaction of hearing it.

  Somewhere off to their right, the
re was a flare of bright light. A shout of startlement, abruptly terminated.

  Scotty? Or the Chekov duplicate?

  The android must have wondered too, for his head turned in that direction, and his expression changed to one of concern.

  He looked at Kirk again.

  "I'm sorry," he said, "that this has to end. I was rather enjoying it."

  And with his free hand, he smashed Kirk across the face. The captain slumped to his knees.

  Then the android released him, stepped back, and drew his phaser. Extended it in the human's direction.

  The captain waited until he saw the android's finger begin to flex. Then, not hurt as badly as he'd given his adversary to believe, he rolled out of the way.

  The beam struck the Copernicus right in its fuel lock. For a moment, the titanite glowed blood red—then it vanished, revealing the lode of fuel inside.

  As Kirk gained his feet, he launched himself as far from the shuttle as he could. Nonetheless, the explosion raked him with claws of white heat, searing the uniform from his back.

  As he drew himself up off the deck, he saw the android—or what was left of him. He had become a walking inferno, all trappings of humanity torn away in the explosion.

  Nor could even that artificial frame take such punishment for long. The android staggered, fell. And as the Copernicus was enclosed in foam, thanks to the safety system in the pod below it, Doctor Korby's creation continued to burn.

  A moment later, Kirk saw movement by the Ptolemy. A figure came out from behind the shuttle, phaser in hand.

  It was Scotty.

  "Damn," said Kirk. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Mister Scott."

  But the chief engineer kept his distance. He eyed the captain skeptically.

  "Don't worry," said Kirk. "It's me."

  "An' how do a' know that?" asked Scotty.

  "I've got the bruises to prove it. Or if you want, you can just take a look at that thing burning behind you."

  Scotty backed up, never taking his eyes off the captain. And looked.

  And grinned.

  "Welcome back, sir."

  Kirk nodded.

  When Brown saw the shuttlecraft in the distance, his first thought was that Kirk had come back with more humans for duplication.