Star Trek - Blish, James - 11

by 11(lit)

  "Mischievous pranks, Captain?"

  "Dipping little girls' curls in inkwells... stealing ap-ples... tying cans on a dog's-" He broke off, sensing Spock's growing dismay. Where, in the universe, was an-other Spock to be found-the one you could trust to the end for reasons that had no relation to the ordinary human ones? Kirk grinned. "Excuse me, Mr. Spock. I should have known better. You were never a mischievous small boy."

  "As you say, Captain," Spock said.

  Back at his station, he cocked a puzzled eyebrow at Kirk. Kirk smiled at him. Spock, lifting the other eyebrow, returned to his computer. And the Enterprise, course set, oblivious of the manifold temptations of deep space, sped on to its assignation with Colony Beta 6.Wink of an Eye

  (Arthur Heinemann and Lee Cronin)

  In the space fronting the handsome building of un-identified metal, a fountain flung its sparkle of spray into the air. Kirk, abstracted, watched Security Guard Compton taking samples of its water. Nearby, McCoy was scanning the plaza's periphery with his tricorder. Necessary but time-consuming occupations, Kirk thought. And useless. They had done nothing to locate the source of that distress call that had forced their beam-down to this unexplored planet calling itself Scalos.

  With abrupt impatience, he opened his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise. Lieutenant Uhura, does the location of that distress signal exactly correspond to this area?"

  "Yes, sir. And I am receiving visual contact with the Scalosians. I can't see you on the viewing screen but I can see them."

  "Check coordinates, Lieutenant."

  "The coordinates correspond, sir."

  His impatience grew. "There are no Scalosians, Lieu-tenant. Apart from our landing party, there is nobody here."

  "Their distress call is very strong, sir. They are beg-ging for immediate assistance."

  "Check circuits for malfunction. Captain out" He looked up to meet McCoy's nod. "There must be a malfunction, Jim. This is a barren world-hardly any vegetation; no apparent animal life."

  As though to contradict him, a shrill mosquito whine sounded near Kirk's head. He struck the invisible insect away. "But there's some kind of insect life," he said.

  "My tricorder doesn't register it."

  "My ears did," Kirk retorted. He dropped the subject for Spock, rounding a corner of the strangely-fluted metal building, was approaching them. "Anything, Mr. Spock?"

  "Evidently a civilization of high order, Captain, ra-ting number seven on the Industrial Scale. Humanoid in ap-pearance, according to paintings. An abundance of litera-ture which I shall have translated and processed. Certain structures hold signs of recent occupancy. Other ones ap-parently long abandoned."

  "But no sign of present life," Kirk said.

  As he spoke, he noted that Compton, rinsing his hands in the fountain's jet, had lifted one to knock away some unseen annoyance at his ear. At the same moment, he again heard the mosquito whine. He had to make an ef-fort to concentrate on what Spock was saying. "... indi-cation of life forms of a highly unusual intermittent nature. They have neither discernible shape nor location. A most puzzling phenomenon, sir."

  "The Scalosians were here," Kirk said. "We saw them on the viewing screen, Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Uhura can still see them. She's still getting their distress call. What happened to them?"

  "At this moment I cannot answer that, Captain."

  "Mr. Spock, I want you to make a complete survey of this planet. You will use all the ship's instruments-"

  He broke off at McCoy's shout. "Jim! Compton's gone! Look over there! Compton's gone!"

  Emptiness was where the guard had been stooping at the fountain. McCoy was staring at its feathered plume of water dazedly. "Compton-gone," he said again.

  "Bones!" Kirk said. "Snap out of it! What hap-pened?"

  McCoy's shocked eyes veered to his. "He... was stowing vials of that fountain's water in his shoulder bags.. when he vanished. I was looking straight at him-and then he wasn't there. He wasn't there, Jim. He... just wasn't there..."

  Had the Scalos distress signal been real? Maybe un-real like its inhabitants. Kirk, entering the Enterprise bridge, barked an inconsequential order to an unremem-bered crew member. As he sat down in his command chair, he said, "Lieutenant Uhura, start a replay of that distress call." Then he hit a switch. "Mr. Scott, are all Transporter controls still in functioning order?"

  "Aye, sir. Is Mr. Spock still down on the planet's sur-face?"

  "He's in Sickbay. Dr. McCoy is running a check on the landing party." His attention, used to dispersing itself to note any significant movement in the bridge, had regis-tered Uhura's look as she struggled with her dials. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

  She was frowning. "Malfunction, sir." She touched a switch-and her frown deepened. "Now it's corrected itself."

  Sulu spoke. "Captain, there's some trouble on the hangar deck. Controls are frozen."

  "Have repair crews been assigned?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Kirk shot a look of inquiry at Uhura. She nodded. "The tape of the distress call is ready, sir."

  Spock had quietly returned to his station. Now he turned to look at the viewing screen. An upside-down im-age took shape on it. Then, righting itself, it showed a proud, strong male face. Its lips moved. "Those of us who are left have taken shelter in this area.We have no expla-nation for what has been happening to us. Our number is now five..."

  The face on the screen took on human height and breadth. The figure moved; and around it appeared the four other Scalosians, two of them women. One was sur-passingly lovely. The whole impression created by the group was that of a cultured, singularly handsome people, peaceful in purpose. Their spokesman went on. "I am Rael. We were once a nation of nine hundred thousand, this city alone holding-"

  "Freeze it," Kirk said.

  Uhura immobilized the tape and Spock, swinging around, said, "Perhaps this distress call was prerecorded -and what we received was a taped signal."

  "Mr. Spock, the fact remains that when we beamed down, we could not find these people. They were there- now they're not there. Nor is crewman Compton."

  "Some force or agent only partially discernible to our instruments may have been responsible, Captain."

  Kirk nodded. "Mr. Sulu, I want this ship on standby alert while we continue the investigation." But Sulu had turned an anxious face to him. "I have a reading, sir, that our deflectors are inoperative. They do not respond to controls."

  "Scotty, assist," Kirk said. He got up to go over to Spock's chair. "Mr. Spock, ever since we beamed back up from Scalos, we have suffered a series of malfunctions. I wish an investigation and an explanation. I want-"

  McCoy's voice interrupted. "McCoy to Captain Kirk. The Captain's presence for examination is requested."

  "Can't it wait, Bones?"

  "Your orders, Jim. You're the last one."

  "What do you read so far?"

  "Can we discuss it in Sickbay?"

  Moving to the elevator, Kirk said, "Mr. Spock, you have the con." But the elevator doors, instead of whoosh-ing open at his approach, remained shut Kirk wheeled, shouting, "Is this another malfunction?"

  Spock jabbed hastily at buttons: and after a long mo-ment, the doors opened slowly, grudgingly. Kirk was still fuming as he jerked off his shirt in Sickbay. "Bones! What did your examinations of the others turn up?"

  "All normal. Whatever caused Compton's disappear-ance didn't affect anyone else."

  "Has anyone experienced anything unusual since beaming back up?"

  "No mention of it. No, Jim."

  But Nurse Chapel looked up from the sheet she was draping over Kirk's midriff. "Yet something's going on, Captain. All the medical supply cabinets have been opened."

  Kirk sat up. "Anything missing?"

  "Just disordered. As if everything had been picked up and examined."

  Once again that insect whine sounded close to Kirk's ear. He waited a moment before he said, "Bones, could something be causing me to hallucinate?" The urgency in his voice s
tartled McCoy out of his concentration on his medical panels. He turned. "How-hallucinate? What do you mean?"

  "Twice," Kirk said, "I've felt something touch me. Nothing was there. I just felt it again. Did I just fancy it?"

  "There's nothing physically wrong with you, Jim."

  "I asked you a question. Am I hallucinating?"

  McCoy left his panels. "No."

  Kirk leaped from the medical table. "Then we did beam something aboard! Something has invaded this ship!" He was making for the intercom when the alarm of a red alert sounded. Over the shrieking of its sirens, he cried, "Captain to bridge! Mr. Spock, come in!"

  Spock didn't come in. Minutes passed before Kirk could hear the voice, faint, blurred. "Captain, I have a reading from the life support center..."

  "Spock, I can't hear you! Check circuits. Is it a mal-function?"

  More minutes passed. Then it was Uhura speaking, her voice also dimmed and distorted. "... intercom sys-tem breaking down rapidly..."

  Kirk felt the sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Lieutenant, issue a shipwide order! Use communicators instead of the intercom. Arm all crewmen with phaser pis-tols. Spock, come in!"

  The words were a jumble. "Reading... life support... center. Alien... substances... introduced..." Kirk was shouldering into his shirt. "Mr. Spock, meet me in the life support center! On the double! Captain to Security! Armed squad to life support center at once!" He was at Sickbay's door when he saw McCoy sway. Christine Chapel, clutching the back of a chair, called, "The oxygen content is dropping, Doctor..."

  As for Kirk himself, Sickbay, its door, its cabinets, its equipment, were all swimming into blur. He fought the dizziness that threatened to become darkness, struggling to open his communicator. "Bridge! Bridge! Scotty, where are you? Emergency life support!"

  Scott's steady voice said. "Emergency on, sir."

  Behind him, McCoy and Christine were gulping in lungfuls of healthy air. Kirk's vertigo subsided-and Scott said, "Condition corrected, Captain."

  But the cold hand of imminent death had touched Kirk. It was a man of a different discipline who met Spock at the entrance to the life support center. As wordlessly as it was given, he took the phaser, flinging open the door to the center. Its security guards, sprawled on the floor, were kneeing back up to their feet. One, phaser out, charged to his left, only to be flung back and down again by something invisible. Kirk, staring around him, said, "How do you ex-plain that, Mr. Spock?"

  The sharp Vulcan eyes scanned their tricorder. "A force field, sir, with the nature of which I am unfamiliar. But I get a reading of alien presences similar to those ob-tained on the planet. They seem to have no exact location."

  " 'Life forms of a highly unusual, intermittent nature'." Kirk recalled grimly. "Phasers on stun, every-body. Sweep the area."

  Once more came the thin whine. Phaser beams were lacing the corridor outside. Inside, Kirk and Spock edged cautiously forward to the location of the force field. Instead of flinging them back, it yielded to them; but when a guard moved to follow them, he was struck down.

  "It would seem they will allow only the two of us in to the life support unit," Spock said. "Take care, Captain."

  Kirk took the advice. He opened the heavy door to the unit, his weapon at the ready. At first glance the unit appeared to be its usual self, its complex coils, squat dyna-mos, its serpentine tubings and compressors arranged in their customary pattern. Then Kirk saw the gleaming metal of the device affixed to one of the dynamos. The metal was fluted like that of the Scalosian building. Though alien in shape and material, the small device had been able to af-fect the functioning of the huge life support unit

  "Mr. Spock, what is it?"

  "I cannot determine, Captain. Perhaps a Scalosian re-frigerating system." He scanned the thing with his tricorder."It would seem that installation of the device is incomplete, sir. Life support is still operational."

  "Disconnect it," Kirk said.

  But the hand Spock extended toward the fixture was flung back. Kirk, whipping out his phaser, heard yet again that now familiar whine. "Destroy it, Spock!" he shouted.

  As their two phasers fired at the device, their weapons disappeared. One moment, they were hard, tangible in their hands; but the next, they were gone. Both men pushed forward and were thrust strongly back.

  "And that wasn't a force field!" Kirk cried. "Some-thing pushed me back. They are in here with us!" He swung around, shouting at the empty air. "You! What are you doing to my ship? Show yourselves!"

  The mosquito whine shrilled. They tried again, not lunging this time to the device but approaching it. A hard shove sent them stumbling back.

  Spock's voice was dry. "It seems that we may look at their mechanism-but that is all, Captain."

  Kirk nodded. "A show of strength." He shouted again to the invisible enemies. "But we'll find a way to dismantle this aggressive engine of yours!"

  It was more than a mere show of strength. Back on the bridge, they discovered that key systems over the entire ship had either been crossed or fused. Spock's computer alone was still operational. All doors, including those of the elevators, were jammed open. Scott greeted them with a gloom thick as a Tyneside fog. "Warp engines are losing potency, Captain. We shall be on emergency power soon -a situation that gives us at most one week of survival."

  Kirk wheeled to Spock. "Have your readings been fed into the computer bank?"

  "Affirmative, Captain."

  "Readout."

  Flipping a switch, Spock addressed the computer. "Analyze and reply. Have we been invaded?"

  "Affirmative."

  "Nature and description of enemy forces."

  "Data insufficient."

  "Purpose of the invasion."

  "Immediate purpose, seizure and control of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Data insufficient for determination of end purpose."

  "Is there a link between this seizure and Compton's disappearance?"

  "Data insufficient."

  "Are we at present capable of resisting?"

  "Negative."

  "Recommendations?"

  "If incapable of resistance, negotiate for terms."

  Listening, Kirk glared at the computer. Then he flushed at his own childishness. The computer was just doing its computer job. But men were not computers. "We will not negotiate for terms," he said. "Scotty, do you concur?"

  "Aye, sir."

  Spock, giving him an approving nod, said, "What are your recommendations, Captain?"

  "Coffee," Kirk said. He turned to the pretty yeoman on duty. "Is a round of coffee available to bridge personnel-or have those circuits also been damaged?"

  She smiled, adoration in her eyes. It shouldn't have cheered him up-but it did. Challenge hardened his jaw as he looked around him at an air made malevolent by invisi-ble hostility. "Let them take the next step," he said. "The next move is theirs."

  His cup of coffee was set on the arm of his chair. He let it wait to cool. Then, as he leaned back in the chair, his hair was suddenly stirred. He stared around him, baffled -and felt soft lips on his. He was hallucinating. McCoy was wrong. He put out a tentative hand, exploring the space before him. Shaking his head, he seized his cup and, after drinking its coffee, replaced it on the chair arm. At the same instant, he became abruptly aware of a change of tempo in the voices around him. They sounded too slow, like those from a phonograph that was running down. And the movements of the bridge people-they, too, seemed strangely slowed, lethargic.

  He went to Spock. But Spock, who had bent to his computer, seemed unable to reach its hood.

  "Mr. Spock, what's wrong?"

  The Vulcan didn't answer. He sat perfectly still in his chair. Kirk wheeled, calling, "Scotty!" No reply. Scott appeared to be frozen in the very act of moving a dial. It was then he heard the feminine giggle-a very feminine giggle. It came from his left. He turned. The Scalosian beauty was standing there, her chestnut hair making a dream of her creamy skin. She wore a short garment of golden gauze that
clung to a slim body of subliminally provocative ap-peal. She was laughing at him; and the gleam of her teeth between her rosy lips gave the lie to all poets' talk of "pearls."

  Still laughing, she kissed him. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. He tried. He tried to re-member who he was; the pressing problems of the Enter-prise, his command responsibilities. But all he succeeded in doing was to remove the lovely arms from his neck.

  "Who are you?" he said.

  "Deela, the enemy," she said. "Isn't it delicious?"

  He had thought he knew women. But nothing in his experience had prepared him for this dazzling combination of mischief and outrageously open attractiveness. "You're the enemy?"