Star Trek - Blish, James - 11

by 11(lit)

  "Captain, do you still feel anger toward Parmen?"

  "Great anger."

  "And you, Dr. McCoy?"

  "Yes, Spock. Great hatred."

  "You must release it somehow... as I must master mine."

  Spock suddenly stood up, his eyes wide open. They blazed with rage. He shuddered with the effort to control it, his fists clenching. "They almost made me kill you, Cap-tain. That is why they have stirred in me such hatred. Such great hatred. I must not allow it to go further. I must mas-ter it. I must control..."

  He grabbed Kirk's arm. His hand tightened on it until it seemed his great strength would snap a bone. Kirk held absolutely still. Gradually, Spock relaxed. He dropped the arm. His body was quieted as though the fierce embrace of his captain's arm had been a desperately needed reassur-ance of the dear existence. He sat down.

  McCoy, his face drawn with strain, drew Kirk aside. "Jim... Jim, listen. I've thought it over. This is senseless. I'm going to stay."

  "You can't, Bones."

  "I have Parmen's word that you'll be safe."

  "Parmen's word! He'll let us beam up to the Enter-prise-and then plunge the ship into this atmosphere!"

  McCoy shook his head. "Why bother to trick me?"

  "If he killed us outright in front of you, you'd retal-iate. You're a doctor, you have the means." He put a hand on McCoy's shoulder. "I know you're trying to do the right thing. But if anyone of us got away, Parmen knows that Starfleet will never let this planet go unpunished. He dare not let us go. Sacrifice yourself by agreement to stay-and you'll only be signing our death warrant."

  Alexander pulled at McCoy's uniform. "The Captain is right. I didn't warn you. They treated you like they treat me. Only you fight them..."

  The dwarf's eyes filled with tears. "All this time I thought it was me-my mind that couldn't move a pebble. They told me how lucky I was that they bothered to keep me around. And I believed them. The arms and legs of everybody's whim. Look down! Don't meet their eyes.. Smile! Smile! Smile! Those great people... They were my gods..."

  He seized a vase; and, smashing it against a column, picked up a long, jagged shard of hard earthenware. "You made me see them!" he cried. "I know what they are now. It's not me, not my runty size! It's them. It's them!"

  "Alexander, put that down," Kirk said.

  "No! It's the best thing for them!"

  Kirk and McCoy moved toward nun. "I said drop it," Kirk said.

  Alexander backed toward the door. "I'm going to cut them up. Parmen first. They'll become infected. Only this time, no matter what they say, let them die!"

  Kirk nodded at McCoy. They both rushed the little man; and, as McCoy, pinned an arm, the dwarf reluctantly surrendered the weapon to Kirk. "Let me at least give them a taste of what they gave me!" he pleaded. "Please! They're going to kill you anyhow! You already know that..."

  "There's no point in your dying, too," Kirk said.

  Alexander stared at him. Then a sob broke from him.

  "That's... the first time... somebody's thought of my life before his own..." Remorse overwhelmed him. "But it's... all my fault. I should have told you right off that they were out to kill you. I knew... I knew-but I was afraid." The tears welled again.

  "It's all right, Alexander," Kirk said. "We haven't giv-en up. Maybe you can help us."

  "I'll do anything for you... anything. Just tell me what to do."

  "It might help us to know one thing. Did all the other Platonians always have the power?"

  "No. Not before we came here to this terrible planet.".

  Spock had joined them. "Then they acquired their psychokinetic power after coming here," Kirk said..

  "I guess so."

  Spock spoke. "Is it possible for you to recall how long after you arrived here that their power began to develop?"

  "How could I forget? It was exactly six months and fourteen days after we got here that they started pushing me around."

  "Would you know how many months' supplies you brought with you?"

  The dwarf's effort to remember was obvious. "I think it was four months... no, three. Yes, three..."

  "That's close enough," Spock said. "Fascinating. The power developed two or three months after they started eating native foods."

  Alexander's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah! That's right."

  Spock turned to Kirk. "Then it would be logical to as-sume that there is connection between their psychokinetic power and the native foods."

  McCoy puzzled over Spock's hypothesis. "Then why wouldn't Alexander have the same power as the others?"

  "Perhaps his system can't absorb the crucial element, Doctor."

  "Bones, I'd like you to take a reading of Alexander's blood," Kirk said.

  The dwarf clutched Kirk. "Will it hurt much?"

  McCoy smiled at him. "You won't know it hap-pened," he said as he ran his tricorder over his arm.

  "Bones, you still have the tricorder reading of Parmen's blood?"

  "Of course. Parmen possesses the highest order of psychokinetic ability; Alexander the lowest-and under the same environmental conditions." He looked at Kirk. "I'll put both of their blood samples through a full comparative test in the tricorder."

  "If our theory proves out, we've got a weapon..." Kirk said.

  When the tricorder buzzed, McCoy read out its infor-mation on its data window. "The one significant difference between Parmen's blood and Alexander's is the concentra-tion of kironide, broken down by pituitary hormones."

  "Kironide's a high-energy source. It could be it!" Kirk said.

  "The pituitary hormones confirm the assumption," Spock said. He looked at Alexander. "They aslo regulate body growth."

  "You mean the same thing that kept me from having the power made me a dwarf?"

  Spock nodded. "It is obvious now why Parmen has kept his Utopia such a secret. Anyone coming down here and staying long enough would acquire the power."

  "Exactly, Mr. Spock." Kirk wheeled to McCoy. "Isn't there some way to build up the same concentration of kironide in us?"

  "It'll take doing but it should be possible, Jim."

  "Then what are we waiting for?"

  McCoy went to work. Pulling vials from his kit, he in-serted them in the tricorder. He checked a dial. Then he reached for an optical tube. More vials went into the tri-corder. He hesitated. "Jim, even if the kironide has the desired effect, it still may not help us get out of here."

  Kirk looked anxiously at Spock. "If all of us do come up with the power, what chance do we have against thirty-eight of them?"

  "The point's well taken, Captain. However, the power isn't additive. If it were, with the Platonians' hostile propensities, two or three of them would have combined forces centuries ago-and deposed Parmen."

  Alexander pulled at Kirk's sleeve. "He's right. Parmen says everyone has his own separate power frequency. He says whenever they try to put their power together and use it, it never works."

  McCoy straightened, the hypo in his hand. "I'm ready."

  "Then let's not waste time. Give us double the con-centration found in Parmen's blood."

  As Spock was injected, he said, "The time factor con-cerns me. It may take days or weeks before there's enough buildup from the kironide to do us any good."

  "What about Alexander?" Kirk asked.

  "Well," McCoy said, "since the kironide's already broken down and injected directly into the bloodstream, it should work on him as well as the rest of us. Better, in fact -he's acclimated."

  But Alexander wanted no part of kironide. "You think the power is what I want? To be one of them? To just lie there and have things done for me-a blob of noth-ing! You're welcome to the power! And if you make it out of here, all I ask is that you take me with you. Just drop me anyplace where they never heard of kironide or Platonius!"

  Kirk said, "All right, Alexander. All right..."

  "Jim!"

  At the tone of McCoy's voice, Kirk whirled. In the room air was shimmering with the familiar Transpor
ter sparkle.

  Unbelieving, he watched the dazzle form into the shapes of Uhura and Christine Chapel. They saw him-but when they tried to speak, their mouths were clamped shut. Then their legs moved, marching them like marionettes to-ward a dressing room.

  "Nurse! Lieutenant Uhura!" Kirk shouted.

  They didn't turn. As they disappeared into the dress-ing room, two lovely, sheer mini-robes floated after them.

  Acidly bitter, Kirk finally spoke to his men. "The af-ternoon entertainment wasn't enough for them," he said.

  And he stayed bitter, as arrangements were made for the evening's entertainment. Enterprise uniforms vanished. He and Spock were forcibly clad in short Greek tunics, knotted over one shoulder. Leaf wreaths were settled on their heads. And in the main room of the suite, a table ap-peared. Piled high with food, with fruit and wine, it glit-tered, heavy, with silver and crystal.

  The dressing room door opened. A little shy in her highly becoming mini-robe, Christine hesitated. Then her pleasure in seeing them sent her smiling to them. "Are we glad to see you!"

  Uhura addressed the question in Kirk's eyes. "We were forced into the Transporter and beamed down. It was like becoming a puppet for someone."

  "I thought I was sleepwalking," Christine told him. "I couldn't stop myself."

  "I don't understand it," Uhura said. "A simple invita-tion would have brought me running for this..." She lift-ed a soft fold of the golden robe that matched her exotic skin color.

  "Definitely," Christine agreed. "Why use force on a girl to get her into clothes like these?" Then she paused, looking at Kirk. "Captain, what's wrong? Something's terri-bly wrong, isn't it?"

  "Yes," Kirk said quietly.

  He had heard the sound of laughter. The bewildered girls stared at each other; and Kirk said, "Spock, have you felt any reaction to the kironide shot?"

  "I have experienced a slight flush, Captain."

  "So did I. Shall we try a simple test? Let's concentrate on raising that cluster of grapes."

  They fixed their eyes on the grapes, the girls watching them in uncomprehending silence. The grapes continued to nestle placidly between two apples.

  "Didn't budge," Kirk said.

  There was a fanfare of music and a burst of applause. Kirk looked up from the disappointing grapes. Panels set into the room's walls had slid aside, revealing boxes behind them. They were crowded with Platonians. Kirk caught sight of Alexander at a music stand, his instruments beside him. Parmen, Philana and McCoy occupied the center box. The philosopher-king stood up, lifting a hand.

  "Fellow Academicians! Twenty-five hundred years ago a hearty band of vagabonds arrived on this barren planet. Those were times of desperate hardship and heart-breaking toil. Then a divine Providence graced our genius with the power of powers! Through it, our every need was materialized. We determined to form a Utopian Brother-hood. This is a festive occasion. For tonight, we welcome its first new member into our Brotherhood!"

  Kirk used the top of his voice. "Don't count on it, Parmen! First you must win the doctor's consent!"

  McCoy, shouting back, called, "I'll never give it, Jim!"

  Whispering, Parmen said, "Doctor, please. You are destroying the festive mood..." He waved a hand. "Let the madcap revels begin!"

  The four Enterprise people were sent whirling around the couches in a game of musical chairs. Then Uhura was dropped on one in a languorous pose. Christine's turn came. Her chin was placed on a bent hand, her body dis-posed in a seductive position. Kirk and Spock were each pulled to a couch. After a moment they were caused to ex-change places.

  Eraclitus called from a box, laughing. "Ah, how fickle and faithless! Make up your minds!"

  Spock sat on Christine's couch, straining against Parmen's will-to-power. It was no use. His arms encircled Christine; and her hand was forced up to caress his face. The Platonians tittered.

  "I am so ashamed, Mr. Spock." But even as her whis-per reached Spock, her hand had reached into his hair to tousle it amorously. She whispered again. "Oh, stop it, Mr. Spock. Please make them stop it..."

  But they were in a close embrace, Christine's arms en-twined around him. His eyes were closed in desperate concentration. He was forced to open them in order to gaze passionately into Christine's. Their lips met. As the kiss ended, she said brokenly, "I have so wanted to be close to you. Now all I want to do is crawl away someplace and die..."

  "Careful, Mr. Spock!" Eraclitus called. "Remember! The arrows of Eros kill Vulcans!"

  Christine sank back on the couch. Spock's body fol-lowed hers to shouts of "Bravo! Bravo!"

  Uhura was saying, "I am so frightened, Captain... so frightened..."

  "That's the way they want you to feel, Lieutenant. It makes them think they're alive."

  "I know it... I wish I could stop trembling..."

  Kirk pulled her to him. Uhura looked into his eyes.

  "Try not to think of them," Kirk said. "Try!"

  She smiled faintly. "You know what I'm thinking, Captain?"

  "What, Lieutenant?"

  "I'm thinking of all the times on the Enterprise when I was scared to death. And I would see you so busy with your commands. And I would hear you from all parts of the ship. And then the fear would pass. Now they are mak-ing me tremble. But I am not afraid."

  Her dark eyes were serene. "I am not afraid..."

  They kissed.

  The applause was scattered. And what there was of it was too loud.

  Philana in her box stirred restlessly. "Parmen, let's get on with it."

  "You are so impatient, my wife! Observe the doctor and learn. He is content to wait for the piŠce de r‚sistance."

  Nevertheless, Parmen got on with it He moved the table of food into a corner and rolled another one into its place. It was loaded with weapons-swords, a bullwhip, knives, a battle-ax. In its center a brazier, a poker thrust into it, glowed red hot. The two Enterprise men were lifted from the girls' couches. Kirk found the bullwhip in his hand. He saw Spock reach for the poker. Its tip of iron flamed with its adopted fire.

  Kirk whirled to the boxes. "You're dead, all of you!" he cried. "You died centuries ago! We may disappear tomorrow-but at least we're living now! And you can't stand that! You're half crazy because you've got nothing inside! Nothing!"

  But Parmen was looking at the girls. Turning, Kirk realized that they had been transfixed, helpless, on their couches. The heavy whip rose in his hand and lashed out at Uhura. It flicked close to her cheek.

  McCoy could bear no more. He rose in his box. "Stop it, Parmen! Stop it! I can't take any more! I can't! I'll do whatever you want!"

  Apparently, his capitulation came too late. Parmen merely grinned at him. "I'll stay here with you!" McCoy cried. "I'll serve you. But stop this!"

  Alexander broke from his place. Racing to the table of weapons he seized a knife and rushed at Parmen. He was stopped cold. Parmen stood up. "Alexander, again! He likes to play with knives. Very good. We'll indulge him..."

  Slowly, relentlessly, the knife blade was pressed against the little man's throat. It halted there-and sudden-ly, unseen fists slammed Parmen against the back of his box.

  The shaken Platonian stared around him. Staggering back, he shouted, "Who... who... who did that?"

  Kirk tossed the whip away. "I did!"

  Eraclitus was on his feet. "Impossible!"

  "What's going on?" Philana screamed.

  Kirk lifted his head to the boxes. "Platonians, hear this! The next one of you who tries anything will get hurt! Not only do we possess your psychokinetic ability, but we've got it at twice your power level!"

  "Not twice mine!" Parmen's eyes veered to Alexan-der.

  The dwarf was spun around; and, knife upraised, sent racing toward Kirk. Instead of evading the charge, Kirk stood still, drawing on all his strength of concentration. His new power slowed the onrush. With a supreme effort, he turned Alexander around and set him running toward Parmen. The battle of wills was joined. Parmen's cold eyes bulged with his s
truggle to recover control of the dwarf. But Alexander had picked up speed. He vaulted into the box, the knife extended to Parmen's heart...

  The Platonian shrieked. "Captain, no! I beg of you. I'll do anything you say! I do not wish to die! Do you hear me, Captain?"

  Kirk arrested the knife. But Alexander, so close to vengeance for his years of suffering, fought to plunge the knife deep into his tormentor. "Let me do it!" he cried to Kirk. "Let me finish him!"