by James Blish
"We don't have the time. But if it goes against us I want a place to retreat to. Right now I want to scout them out, find their weaknesses and attack."
Lincoln smiled. "Do you drink whisky?"
"Occasionally," Kirk said, startled. "Why?"
"Because you have qualities very much like those of another man I admired greatly. One I mentioned before—General Grant."
The reminder of the possible illusory nature of all this was jarring, distracting. "Thank you. We'll need weapons. Spock, I believe the primitive Vulcans made something like a boomerang."
"Yes, Captain. However—"
"Spears, too. Slings. Mr. President, you used slings as a boy—"
"Indeed I did." Lincoln stripped off his coat, pulled out his shirttail and ripped from it a long strip. Again that conflict of realism and illusion.
"Captain," Spock said, "logic dictates that we consider another course." He looked deferentially toward Surak, who thus far had remained a profoundly troubled nonparticipant in the discussion.
"In my time on Vulcan we too faced these alternatives," Surak said. "We had suffered devastating wars that nearly destroyed our planet and another was about to begin. We were torn. And out of our suffering some of us found the discipline to act. We sent emissaries to our opponents to propose peace. The first were killed. Others followed. Ultimately, we achieved peace, which has lasted since then."
"The circumstances were different, Surak."
"The face of war never changes. Look at us, Captain. We have been hurt. So have they. Surely it is more logical to heal than kill."
"I'm afraid that kind of logic doesn't apply here," Kirk said.
"That is precisely why we should not fight—"
"My ship is at stake!"
Surak said, "I will not harm others, Captain."
"Sir," Spock said, "his convictions are most profound on this matter—"
"So are mine, Spock! If I believed there was a peaceful way out of this—"
"The risk would be mine alone, Captain," Surak said. "And if I fail, you would lose nothing. I am no warrior."
There was a moment of silence, while Kirk looked from one Vulcan to the other.
"The Captain knows that I have fought at his side before," Spock said. "And I will now if need be. But I too am Vulcan, bred to peace. Let us attempt it."
"You saw how treacherously they acted," Kirk said.
"Yes, Captain," Surak said. "But perhaps it is our belief in peace which is actually being tested."
"Wellll . . . I have no authority over you. Do as you think best."
"Thank you. May you live long and prosper." Surak gave the Vulcan sign and went off. Kirk watched him depart, doubtful, but also with some awe. Then he shook the mood off.
"The weapons, gentlemen—in case he fails."
Time went past. The three fashioned crude spears, bolos, slings, boomerangs, and gathered rocks for throwing. Spock was visibly on edge; he kept looking after the vanished Surak.
"A brave man," Kirk said.
"Men of peace usually are, sir. On Vulcan he is revered as the Father of Civilization. The father-image has much meaning for us."
"You show emotion, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, and then was instantly sorry he had said it; this was surely no time for needling. But Spock replied only:
"I deeply respect what he accomplished."
"Let's hope he accomplishes something here."
As if on cue, the air was rent by a harrowing scream of agony.
"Surak!" Spock cried.
"Yes," Kirk said grimly. "I would guess that they're torturing him."
"Mr. Spock!" Colonel Green's voice called, from no very great distance off. "Your friend wants you. He seems to be hurt."
"Help me, Spock!" Surak's voice called, raw with pain.
"You can't let him suffer," Green said.
"Sir," Spock said, his face like stone. "They are trying to goad us into attacking rashly."
"I know that."
"And he was aware that this might happen when he went—" Spock was interrupted by another scream.
"I should not have let him go," Kirk said.
"You had no choice, Captain—" Another scream. It cut Kirk like a knife, but Spock went on through it.
"You could not have stopped him."
"How can you ignore it?"
"I suspect it, sir. A Vulcan would not cry out so."
"So his suffering doesn't matter?"
"I am not insensitive to it, sir, nor am I ignoring it."
"I don't care whether he is Vulcan or not. He is in agony."
"The fact that he might not be Vulcan does not blind me to the fact."
The cry came again. "But you can listen to that and chop logic about it?" Kirk said. "Well, I can't!"
Kirk strode off toward the antagonists' camp. Spock was after him in one bound, grasping his arm.
"Captain, that is what they want of us. They are waiting for us to attempt a rescue."
"Perhaps we can rescue him, Mr. Spock," Lincoln said. "I suggest that we do exactly what they want."
"Do what they want?"
"Not the way they want it, however. We must first convince them that they have provoked us to recklessness. James? You seem taken aback. I do not mean to presume upon your authority—"
"It isn't that."
"What I propose to do is that I circle around to their rear while you two provide a frontal distraction. It should be sufficiently violent to cover what I do."
"Which is—?"
"Slip into their camp and free him."
"No," Kirk said.
"I was something of a backwoodsman, James. I doubt that you could do what I was bred to."
"I won't have you risk it."
"I am no longer President," Lincoln said, with a slight smile. "Mr. Spock, any comment?"
"No, sir."
"Then," Lincoln said, "one matter further, gentlemen. We fight on their level. With trickery, brutality, finality. We match their evil . . . You forget, James. I know I am reputed a gentle man. Kindly, I believe the word is. But I was Commander in Chief during the four bloodiest years of my country's history. I gave orders that sent a hundred thousand men to death by the hands of their brothers. There is no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war—except its ending. And you are fighting for the lives of your crew."
"Mr. President," Kirk said, "your campaign."
The scream came again. It was markedly weaker.
Khan and Green were on watch as Kirk and Spock worked their way among the boulders to the enemy camp. Kirk made no particular effort at concealment, "accidentally" showing himself several times. By the time they were in range, Zora and Kahless had appeared, weapons at the ready.
Kirk and Spock rose as one, threw spears, and ducked again. One of the spears narrowly missed Khan, who with a wild yell retaliated with a boulder that came equally close.
When Kirk looked again, Green was gone, and a moment later, so were Kahless and Zora. Then Green came back. What did that maneuver mean? But Kirk was left no time to see more; Green threw a spear at him with murderous accuracy, and he was forced to duck again.
Lincoln, creeping up at the rear, almost tripped a man-trap made of a tied-down sapling. Backing off, he deliberately tripped it, and then resumed crawling.
Ahead he could see Surak, bound to a tree, head slumped. No one else seemed to be around.
"Surak!" he called in a low voice. "I will have you free in a minute." Racing forward, he began to cut the thongs binding the Vulcan. "The others have drawn them away. We will circle around. It was a worthy effort, Surak. No need to blame yourself for its failure."
The thongs parted. As Lincoln put out a hand to help Surak, the Vulcan collapsed at his feet. He was dead.
"Help me, Lincoln!"
Lincoln spun. The voice had been Surak's, but it was coming from Kahless. He and Green were standing in the direction from which Lincoln had just come, grinning, spears ready.
It was only afterward that Kirk was able to sort the battle out. Their four antagonists had charged them, leaping with spears raised. Hit by a rock, Kirk stumbled and fell, and Zora was upon him at once; but whatever expertise she may have had in body chemistry, she was no fighter. Kirk rolled and threw her aside, hard. She was hurt and lay watching him in terror.
Nearby, Spock and Khan were fighting hand to hand. They seemed to be evenly matched, but Kirk had no chance to help—Kahless was upon him. The struggle was a violent, kaleidoscopic, head-banging eternity. When it stopped, very suddenly, it took Kirk several seconds to realize that he had killed the Klingon. Snatching up a spear, he ran at Khan, who broke free of Spock and fled, looking wildly behind him. Green was running now, too. Kirk snatched up a spear and threw it. He did not miss.
Then it was all over. Inside the enemy camp, they found the bodies of Lincoln and of Surak. They looked down with rage and grief. Neither could find anything to say.
Then, once more, the bell-like chiming sounded, and the seated, stony figure of Yarnek emerged from its cocoon of rainbows.
"You are the survivors," the echoing voice said. "The others have run off. It would appear that evil retreats when forcibly confronted. However, you have failed to demonstrate to me any other difference between your philosophies. Your good and your evil use the same methods, achieve the same results. Do you have an explanation?"
"You established the methods and the goals," Kirk said.
"For you to use as you chose."
"What did you offer them if they won?"
"What they wanted most—power."
"You offered me the lives of my crew."
"I perceive," Yarnak said. "You have won their lives."
Kirk boiled over. "How many others have you done this to? What gives you the right to hand out life and death?"
"The same right that brought you here: the need to know new things."
"We came in peace—"
"And you may go in peace." Yarnak faded from view.
Kirk took out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise . . . Mr. Sulu, beam us aboard."
On the bridge everything seemed to be functioning normally, as though nothing had ever gone wrong.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "Explanation?"
"Conjecture, sir, rather than explanation."
"Well?"
"It would seem that we were held in the power of creatures able to control matter, to rearrange molecules in whatever fashion they desired. So Yarnak was able to create the images of Surak and Lincoln and the others, after scanning our minds, by making use of its fellow creatures as source matter."
"They seemed so real, Spock. To me, especially, Mr. Lincoln. I feel I actually met Lincoln."
Spock nodded. "And Surak. In a sense, perhaps they were, Captain. Created out of our own thoughts, how could they be anything but what we expected them to be?"
"It was so hard to see him die once again. I begin to understand what Earth endured to achieve final peace." Kirk paused. "Mr. Spock . . . is there a memorial to Surak on Vulcan?"
"Yes, sir. A monument of great beauty. However, it is held generally that the true memorial to him is the peace and the friendship that have endured among Vulcans since his time with them."
"The same with Lincoln. I think of all our heroes on Earth, he is the most loved today. We see his dreams around us. We have the brotherhood and equality of men that he hoped for, and we're still learning what he knew instinctively."
"Men of such stature live beyond their years."
"They were alive today, Spock. Those were more than rearranged molecules we saw."
"We projected into them our own concepts of them, sir."
"Did we?" After a moment, Kirk shook his head. "There is still much of their work to be done in the galaxy, Spock . . . Mr. Sulu, break orbit for our next assignment"
THE LIGHTS OF ZETAR
(Jeremy Tarcher and Shari Lewis)
* * *
The Enterprise was enroute to Memory Alpha when the storm first appeared. Memory Alpha was a planetoid set up by the Federation solely as a central library containing the total cultural history and scientific knowledge of all planetary Federation members. The ship had a passenger, Lt. Mira Romaine, an attractive woman of about thirty. She was on board to supervise the transfer of newly designed equipment which the Enterprise was also carrying. At the moment, she was on the bridge talking to Scott at his position.
"Mr. Scott, I hope I haven't been too much trouble to you with all the questions I've asked."
"Well, I'm sorry the trip is coming to an end," Scott said. "I'm going to miss your questions."
Kirk watched them amusedly. "Present position, Mr. Chekov?"
"On course—one seventy-two mark four."
"Mr. Scott, as soon as we are within viewing range of Memory Alpha, you and Lt. Romaine will go to your stations in the emergency manual monitor. Prepare for direct transfer of equipment."
"Yes, Captain."
"We're ready, sir," Mira added.
"Lieutenant," Spock said, "may I offer my congratulations on what will be a first in the Federation."
"And good luck," Kirk added.
"Thank you, Mr. Spock, Captain."
"I didn't think Mr. Scott would go for the brainy type," Chekov said, almost too softly for Kirk to overhear.
"I don't think he's even noticed she has a brain. Has she?" Sulu said. A red light came up on his panel. "Captain, I am picking up a high intensity reading. Shall I display it?"
"Yes." Kirk looked at the main viewing screen. In the blackness of space there was a faint light source. "Is that Memory Alpha?"
"No, sir."
"Magnification eight."
The light now showed as a cloud of vaguely organic shape, almost like a brain. It sparked and flashed intermittently in varied hues, like a series of inspired thoughts.
"Is that some kind of storm?" Kirk said.
"Quite possible, Captain," Spock said. "I've never seen one of such great intensity and strange conformation."
"Captain," Sulu added, "it is approaching at warp two point six and accelerating."
"Recheck your readings, Mr. Sulu. It is impossible for a natural phenomenon to move faster than the speed of light."
"It is definitely doing so," Spock confirmed—and indeed the thing was visibly growing on the screen. "It therefore cannot be a phenomenon of nature."
"Deflector on. Condition yellow."
The light source filled the screen. The glare was almost unbearable. Then the screen went blank.
Kirk tried to snap out an order and found that he could not. The whole bridge was suddenly deathly silent. No one moved.
Then, just as abruptly, it was over. "Mr. Sulu, full scan on that turbulence or whatever it was!" Kirk noticed Scott staring uncertainly over Kirk's own shoulder. Turning to see what he was looking at, he was just in time to see Mira crumple out of sight behind the command chair.
"Mira!" Scott leapt from his post, knelt beside her and lifted her head off the floor. "Mira!"
She murmured unintelligibly. It was not that the sounds were indistinct, but as though they were in an unknown language.
"What's that you're saying?" Scott said. Kirk and Spock were now also bending close. The strange murmuring went on.
McCoy came onto the bridge and crossed at once to the group, his tricorder already out and in use. He said, "Was she hurt by the fall or by the action of that . . . disturbance?"
"I don't know," Kirk said. "You were closest, Scotty. Did you notice?"
"She collapsed when it was over."
McCoy gave her a shot. The murmuring died away. Her expression changed from a curiously rapt look to one of relaxation. Then her eyes opened and she looked around in confusion.
"Easy now," Scott said. "You took quite a fall."
"I'm fine now," she said.
"Let me be the judge," McCoy said. "Can you walk to Sickbay?"
"Doctor, I'm fine, really I am." Again she
looked around the bridge, obviously still puzzled. "Is everyone else—all right?"
"Aye, they are," Scott said. "You do just as Dr. McCoy says."
"Why? I never felt better in my—"
"Lieutenant, report to Sickbay," Kirk said. "That's an order."
"Yes, sir." She followed McCoy resignedly toward the elevator.
Scott said, "Would it be all right for me to go to Sickbay?"
"You will stay at your post, Mr. Scott. Lt. Uhura, damage report, all stations."
"All stations are operative."
"Mr. Spock?"
"Some equipment was temporarily out of order. My sensors were inoperative.''
"Any damage to the warp engines?"
"None, Captain."
"Good. From the action of that—that storm, we may need all the speed we can get."
"It was not a storm, Captain," Spock said.
"Mr. Chekov, get a fix on whatever it was and try to project its path . . . That was a novel experience for the Enterprise. Would you agree, Mr. Spock?"
"Unforgettable, Captain."
"Yes? I was hoping you had an explanation."
"None at the moment, Captain. Only a sharply etched memory of what I felt during the onslaught."
"Memory Alpha was hailing us a moment before," Uhura said. "I wanted to respond, but I couldn't make my hand move."
"It was not hands that were paralyzed, it was eyes," Chekov said. "I couldn't force my eyes to look down to set a new course."
"No," Sulu said, "speech was affected. I couldn't utter a sound."
"Nor could I," Kirk said. "You seemed to be having the same trouble, Mr. Spock."
"Yes, Captain, I was."
"Any explanation yet?"
"Only of the result," Spock said, "none of the cause. In each case, different areas of the brain were affected. Our voluntary nerve functions were under some form of pressure."
"Or of attack?"
"Attack might be a more precise formulation, Captain."
"Lt. Romaine seems most susceptible. Mr. Scott, perhaps you'd better go down to Sickbay after all. If she was the only one of four hundred and thirty people who passed out, we'd better find out why."
"Aye, sir," Scott said, heading for the elevators with alacrity.