Star Trek - Blish, James - 11

by 11(lit)

  He had lifted his arm when Kirk jumped forward, "Absolutely not!"

  "No?"

  "No!" Kirk shouted. "This game has gone far enough. Our feminine crew members are crucial operating personnel! You can't just remove them from-"

  Trelane stamped his foot. "I can do anything I like! I thought you would have realized that by now!"

  McCoy spoke. "Jim! I am receiving a Transporter signal!"

  Trelane started wringing his hands. "What does he mean? You must tell me!"

  "It means the party's over, thanks to Mr. Spock! That's what it means, Trelane"-and Kirk, signaling to his men, assumed the Transporting stance. As the others followed suit, Trelane hurried up to them. "Wait!" he screamed. "What are you doing? I haven't dismissed you. Stop! I won't have this!"

  The drawing room, the florid, furious face disap-peared; and this time it was Spock who hurried up to them as they shimmered into full shape on the Transporter plat-form.

  "Captain! Are you all right?"

  Kirk stepped off the platform. "Report, Mr. Spock. How were the scanners able to penetrate that radiation field?"

  "They didn't, sir. Not clearly. We merely beamed up all the life forms within a given space."

  McCoy broke in. "Jim, that confirms what I said. Trelane is not a life form as we know it-or he'd be com-ing through the Transporter now."

  Kirk nodded. Then he snapped out orders. "Prepare to warp out at once! Maximum speed! Everyone to stations!"

  In the bridge, the substitute personnel quickly re-signed their posts to Sulu and De Salle. The pretty yeoman on duty rushed up to Kirk. "Oh, Captain," cried Teresa Ross, "we were all so worried about you!" What she meant was, "I was worried about you, James Kirk"-and Kirk, gravely acknowledging her concern, said, "Thank you, Yeoman Ross." Then he was on the intercom. "Scotty! I want every ounce of power your engines have. We're going to put a hundred million miles between us and that madman down there."

  "Aye, sir. Welcome back, Captain."

  McCoy was staring at the hand he had extended. "I'm quaking," he said. "Jim, I'm quaking-but I don't know if it's with laughter or with terror!"

  Uhura looked away from her board, her eyes bright with curiosity. "What was it? What's down there on Goth-os?" she asked.

  "Something I hope I forget to tell my grandchildren about..."

  Then McCoy noted the astounded expression on Te-resa's face. "Look-!" she whispered. Spock had jumped to his feet, staring.

  Across the bridge in the angle made by its wall and elevator shaft, Trelane stood. He was uniformed, resplendent, a sabre scabbard attached to his cummerbund. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was looking the Enterprise bridge over. After a moment, he spoke. "But where are all the weapons? Don't you display your weap-ons?"

  Kirk rose slowly to his feet. Trelane made a benevo-lently reassuring gesture. "Don't fret, Captain. I'm only a little upset with you." He was glancing around at the bridge people.

  He said, "This Mr. Spock you mentioned-the one responsible for the imprudent act of taking you from me. Which is he, Captain?"

  Spock said, "I am Mr. Spock."

  "Surely," said Trelane, "you are not an officer." He turned in amazement-real or feigned, who could know? -to Kirk. "He isn't quite human, is he?"

  "My father," Spock said, "is from the planet Vul-can."

  "Are its natives predatory?"

  "Not specifically," Spock said solemnly.

  Trelane made a dismissing gesture. "No. I should think not." He made an elaboration of turning to Kirk. "You will see to his punishment?"

  "On the contrary," Kirk said. "I commend his ac-tion."

  The full fed lips pursed in their habitual pout. "But I don't like him."

  Kirk won his battle for control. Tonelessly, he said, "Trelane, get off my ship! I've had enough of you!"

  "Nonsense, Captain. You're all coming back with me."

  The victory for control was abruptly lost. There was an obscenity about Trelane's middle-aged willfulness. Flaring, Kirk yelled, "We're not going anywhere! This ship is leaving here whether you-"

  "Fiddle-de-dee," Trelane retorted. "I have a perfectly enchanting sojourn on Gothos planned for you. And I won't have you spoil it."

  In a kind of prophetic awareness, Kirk knew what Tre-lane would do. He did it. Saying, "The decor of my drawing room is much more appropriate..." He raised his arm.

  And the Enterprise bridge was replaced by the draw-ing room. All that was different were the positions of the bridge people. De Salle and Sulu were seated at a dining table, laden with dishes of unidentifiable but delicious-looking foods. Uhura found herself on the bench before the harpsichord. And Trelane, completing the sentence spoken on the Enterprise, said, "And much more tasteful, don't you think?"

  Sulu looked at the wall niches emptied of their sculp-tures.

  "No," he said.

  Trelane gave him an Oriental bow from the waist. "Yes, it is so much more fitting, Honorable Guest." He paused, catching a mirrored glimpse of his well-padded calves in their leg-hose; and the fatuous look of self-admiration on his face exploded the last remnants of De Salle's control.

  "You little-!" he snarled and charged Trelane.

  Kirk cried out a warning but it came too late. Trelane had made his hand wave-and once again, De Salle went stiff, immovable. Interestedly, Trelane circled him, peering into his frozen face. "Ah, what primitive fury! He is the very soul of sublime savagery!"

  Kirk said, "Trelane, let him go." He repeated the sentence. "I said, 'Let him go!' "

  Trelane stared at him. Then he nodded. "Yes, of course. I forget I must not frighten you too much. But then, you must not provoke me again. For your own sake, I warn you. I am sometimes quite short-tempered." There came another slight move of his hand; and De Salle relaxed the hands that had been reaching for Trelane's throat. Kirk clamped a firm hold on him. Sulu, seizing his other arm, whispered harshly, "De Salle, we don't even have our phas-ers!"

  "Come, everyone!" Trelane, over at the table, point-ed to chairs. "Let us forget your bad manners! Let us be full of merry talk and sallies of wit! See, here are victuals to delight the palate and brave company to delight the mind!" Pouring brandy, he offered glasses to McCoy and Sulu. "Partake, good Doctor. And you, Honorable Guest, you likee, too." Then it was the turns of De Salle and Jae-ger. "Allons, enfants! Zum Kampf, mein Herr!"

  His men looked tensely at Kirk. Nodding at the table, he said, "Play along. That's an order!"

  As they began to pick halfheartedly at the lavish array of food, Kirk, Spock beside him, was giving Trelane a look of deep concentration. What was the secret of his power? Vain, silly, a showoff and braggart, he yet possessed the secret that had enabled him to establish a habitable enclave on an uninhabitable planet and to do what he said he could do-transport matter at will. In the florid face and features, there was no indication of the acute intelligence required to evolve his tricks. In fact, his look of fatuity was more pronounced than ever as, turning to Kirk, he said, "I fear you are derelict in your social duty, Captain. You have not yet introduced me to the charming contingent of your crew."

  There was a small silence before Kirk spoke to Uhura and Teresa. "This is-General Trelane."

  "Retired," Trelane corrected him. "However, if you prefer, dear ladies, you may address me simply as the lone-ly Squire of Gothos."

  Still introducing, Kirk said, "This lady is Uhura, our communications officer..."

  Trelane went to her, took her hand and bowed over it. "A Nubian prize, eh, Captain? Taken no doubt in one of your raids of conquest. She has the same melting eyes of the Queen of Sheba... the same lovely skin color..."

  With a poorly disguised shudder, Uhura pulled her hand free; and unfazed, brashly melodramatic as ever, Trelane turned to Teresa. "And this lady?" Hand over heart, he burst into recitation.

  "Is this the face that launched a thousand ships

  And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?

  Fair Helen, make me immortal with a kiss!"


  Teresa flushed, stepping back; and Kirk, to distract Trelane's unwelcome attention from her, went on quickly. "Yeoman Teresa Ross. You've met Mr. Spock, our Science Officer." Trelane looked Spock up and down. "You realize," he said, "it is only in deference to the Captain that I brought you down?"

  "Affirmative," Spock said.

  "I don't think I like your tone. It's most challenging. Is that what you're doing-challenging me?"

  "I object to you," Spock said. "I object to intellect without discipline; to power without purpose."

  "Why, Mr. Spock," cried Trelane, "you do have a saving grace! You're ill mannered... the human half of you, no doubt. But I am wasting time..." He grabbed Teresa's hands. "Come, my wood nymph! Dance with your swain! And you, dear Nubian beauty, give us some sprightly music!"

  "I do not know how to play this instrument," Uhura said.

  "Of course you do!"

  Uhura looked at Kirk. Then, turning, she fingered the harpsichord keyboard; and was startled to hear the rush of notes ripple from under her hands. Trelane swept Teresa into his arms and burst into a wildly gyrating waltz with her.

  "Captain, how far do we go along with this charade?"

  It was Sulu's question. Kirk's response was tightly grim. "Until we can think our way out of here. Meanwhile, we'll accept his hospitality..."

  McCoy snorted with disgust. "Hospitality!" He re-placed his laden plate on the table. "You should try his food, Jim. Straw would be tastier than this pheasant. As to the brandy in this glass, plain water has more taste. Noth-ing he has served has any taste at all."

  Spock spoke meditatively. "Food that has no flavor. Wine that has no taste. Fire that gives no heat Added up, it would seem to suggest that, though Trelane knows all the Earth forms, he knows nothing whatever of their substance."

  "And if he's that fallible, he can't be all-powerfal. That means he's got something helping him."

  "I agree, sir," Spock said.

  "A machine. A device-something which does these things for him." Kirk's eyes narrowed as he watched the cavorting Trelane halt his dance briefly in order to adore himself in the walled mirror. "Ah, my dear," he cried to Teresa, "don't we make a graceful pair... except for one small detail. That dress you wear hardly matches this charming scene!" Then, Trelane, his eyes fixed on the mir-ror, lifted that hand of his. Teresa vanished-and immediately reappeared. She was wearing the billowing silks of a luxurious eighteenth-century gown. Diamond bracelets sparkled on her gloved arm; and in her hair glittered a pointed tiara of brilliants.

  "Now that's more what we want!" Trelane shouted in delight. "I, the dashing warrior-and you, his elegant lady!"

  It was another too impressive demonstration of his ex-traordinary powers. McCoy's voice was tight. "Three thousand years ago, he would have been considered a god... a little god of war." He gave a short, angry laugh. "How suprised the ancients would have been to see-not the grim-visaged brute they visualized as a war god-but a strutting dandy, spreading his peacock's tail in a mirror!"

  Kirk echoed the word. "Mirror. That mirror is part of his audience. It's a piece of his ego. He never wanders far from it"

  "Is it ego?" Spock said. "Or something else?"

  "Explain," Kirk said.

  "The mirror," Spock said.

  "What about it?"

  "As you said, sir, he never gets much distance away from it. I suppose it could be just vanity."

  "No, Mr. Spock. He's vain enough-but vanity can't account for his dependence on the mirror." He paused. "What kind of machine could do these things?"

  Spock said, "An extremely sophisticated one. In addi-tion to the power to create matter from energy, to guide its shape and motion by thought waves, it would have to have a vast memory bank."

  Kirk nodded. "Like a computer. Would you say a ma-chine small enough to be contained in this room could be responsible for maintaining this atmosphere, this house?"

  "No, Captain. I think not. Such a device would by ne-cessity be immense-immensely powerful to successfully resist the planet's natural atmosphere."

  "Good," Kirk said. "I agree. And that leaves me free..."

  "Free for what, Captain?"

  "To do something which will seem very strange to you, Mr. Spock. Don't think that the strain has got me down. I know exactly what I'm doing."

  "Which is-?"

  For the first tone since meeting the Squire of Gothos, Kirk grinned. "I am going to turn his lights off at their source, Mr. Spock." Then he fell silent. As Trelane waltzed by them with Teresa, he spoke again with unusual loudness. "Nobody is to be too upset by what you see. I am ad-dressing my own people. The actions of this being are those of an immature, unbalanced mind!"

  Abruptly, Trelane stopped prancing. "I overheard that last remark. I'm afraid I'll have to dispense with you, Captain." As the arm began to lift, Kirk said, "You only heard part of it. I was just getting started, Trelane!"

  The creature's eyes brightened with curiosity. "Ok?"

  "Yes," Kirk said. "I want you to leave my crewmen alone! And my crewwomen, too!" He reached for Teresa, pulled her away from Trelane, and lifting her, set her down behind him. Then he wheeled to face her. "You're not to dance with him any more! I don't like it!"

  First, he snatched the diamond tiara from her hair. Then he reached for the bracelets, peeling them off her arm along with her white glove. Flushing, the girl cried, "Cap-tain, please don't think..."

  Trelane gave a chortle of pleasure. "Why, I believe the good captain is jealous of me!"

  "Believe what you like," Kirk said. "Just keep your hands off her!"

  Trelane was staring at him. "How curiously human," he said. "How wonderfully barbaric!"

  Taut, no longer acting, Kirk said, "I've had enough of your attentions to her!"

  "Of course you have. After all, it's the root of the matter, isn't it, Captain? We males fight for the attention, the admiration, the possession of women-"

  Kirk struck him across the face with Teresa's glove. "If fighting is what you want, you'll have it!"

  Trelane gave a leap of joy. "You mean-you are challenging me to a duel?" Eyes dancing, he cried, "This is even better than I'd planned. I shall not shirk an affair of honor!" Skipping like a lamb in spring, he ran over to the gleaming box that hung among the weapons displayed over the fireplace. He removed it, lifting its lid. "A matched set," he said. "A matched set exactly like the one that slew your heroic Alexander Hamilton."

  Bowing, he presented the box to Kirk. On its velvet lining reposed two curve-handled, flintlock dueling pistols.

  Trelane took one. He pointed it at Kirk's head. "Cap-tain," he said, "it may momentarily interest you to know that I never miss my target."

  He moved over to take up his position at one side of the room. As he checked the mechanism of his pistol, McCoy, Sulu and the others gathered in an anxious group behind Kirk. He waved them back, thinking, "I know what I'll have to report to the log. Weaponless, powerless, our only hope of escape with the Enterprise is playing his games with this retardate of Gothos." He looked up from the absurdity of the ancient dueling pistol. His adversary had a look of rapturous enchantment on his face.

  "Fascinating!" he cried ecstatically. "I stand on a Field of Honor. I am party to an actual human duel!"

  "Are you ready, Trelane?"

  "Quite ready, Captain. We shall test each other's courage-and then-"the voice thickened-"we shall see..."

  Kirk started to lift his pistol when Trelane cried, "Wait! As the one challenged, I claim the right of the first shot"

  "We shoot together," Kirk said.

  Trelane was querulous. "It's my game-and my rules." Raising his gun, he aimed it straight at Spock. "But if you meed to be persuaded..."

  When you were dealing with a moral idiot, it was morally idiotic to take heroic stands. "All right," Kirk said. "You shoot first."

  "Captain-" Spock was pretesting. But Kirk had al-ready lowered his pistol. And Trelane, craving the heroic limelight momentarily focused on
Kirk, raised his gun above his head and fired a shot harmlessly into the ceiling.

  He was so enraptured by the glory of the figure he cut in his own imagination that he couldn't contain his pleasure. "And now, Captain-how do you say it?-my fate is in your hands." He shut his eyes with a beatific smile; and tearing open his shirt front, exposed his chest to whatever shot, whatever Fate had in store for him.

  What Fate had in store for him was surprise. Instead of sending a bullet into Trelane's chest, Kirk sent one, smack! into the center of the mirror on the wall. The glass shattered. And explosively, from behind it, burst a tangle of electronic circuitry, mingled with broken grids and wire-disgorging cables. Something flashed, hissing vicious-ly, spitting blue sparks.