by 10(lit)
"I can adjust the main reactor to function on a substi-tute fuel supply." He paused, unable to resist the tempta-tion to give full dramatic value to his idea. "Our phasers, sir. I could adapt them and use their energy. It will take time, but it's possible."
"The objection is they're our only defense," McCoy said.
"They would also seem to be our only hope." Spock made his decision fast. "Doctor....Yeoman,... your phasers, please."
"But what if those creatures attack again?'' the girl asked.
"They will not attack, not for many hours at any rate," Spock told her. "By then, with luck, we. should be gone."
Scott nodded. "If I can get a full load, well be able to achieve orbit with all hands. Not that we can maintain it long."
"It will not be necessary to maintain it long. In less than twenty-four hours the Enterprise will be forced to abandon its search in order to make its rendezvous. If our orbit decays after that time, it will make no difference." Spock shrugged. "Whether we die coming out of orbit or here on the surface, we shall surely die. Your phaser, Doctor."
Reluctantly McCoy and the girl surrendered their phasers. Spock passed them over to Scott.
At the same moment on the Enterprise, the Transporter officer was reporting a successful materialization to Kirk. "The crates I beamed down to Taurus II came back all right, sir. In my opinion the Transporters are now safe for human transport."
It was the first good news since they had contacted Murasaki 312. Kirk pushed his intercom button. "This is the Captain. Landing parties 1, 2, and 3. Report to Transporter Room for immediate beam-down to the planet's surface. Ordinance condition 1-A."
"Captain... it's a big planet," the Transporter officer said. "It'll be sheer good luck if our landing parties find anything."
"I'm counting on luck, Lieutenant. It's almost the only tool we've got that might work."
But Spock, despite his hope that fear would restrain the hostility of the gorillalike creatures, wasn't trusting to luck. For the third time he left the Galileo to check with Boma. "Have you seen or heard anything unusual, Mr. Boma?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Is Mr. Gaetano keeping in contact with you?"
"I saw him up in those rocks just a few minutes ago."
Something else had seen Gaetano among the rocks. It aimed a large rock at his phaser, knocking it out of his hand. Terrified, he scrambled after it-and a spear hurled past him, striking the air between him and the weapon. He ran toward a rock crevice. It ended in a blank black wall. Trapped, he turned. The crevice entrance was blocked by a massive bulk, hairy, feature-less. The creature moved toward him. He screamed.
It was Spock who found the dropped phaser. As he bent to retrieve it, he heard a snuffling, half-growl, half-grunt from somewhere in the rocks ahead of him. Then there was silence. McCoy and Boma climbed up to him. He extended his hand. "Mr. Gaetano's phaser," he said.
"Look!" Boma cried.
The footprint in the rubble was human in form. Its enormity was its horror.
Boma and McCoy stared at it, unbelieving. Spock handed Gaetano's phaser to McCoy. "Take this back to Mr. Scott for conversion, please, Doctor."
Boma flared up at him. "Is that all this means to you? Just a phaser to be recovered?"
Spock stared at him, puzzled. "Explain, Mr. Boma."
The frenzied Boma broke into a shout. "Gaetano's gone! Who knows what's happened to him! And you just hand over his phaser as though nothing had happened at all!"
Spock ignored the outburst. Drawing put his own phaser, he handed it over to McCoy, saying, "And please give this to Mr. Scott in case I don't return."
"Where are you going?" McCoy demanded.
Spock said, "I have a certain... scientific curiosity about what has occurred to Mr. Gaetano. You will return, to the ship, if you please."
He slipped off into the mist, leaving Boma to gape after him. McCoy, shaking his head, said, "He'll risk his neck locating Gaetano. And if he. finds him alive, he's just as liable to order him to stay behind when the ship leaves. You tell me."
"Do you think the ship will ever leave?"
"It won't without these phasers," McCoy said. "Let's get back to Scott."
Sharp-eyed, agile as a cat, Spock was creeping upward over rocks. Then he saw the ledge. Gaetano lay sprawled on it; unmoving. Spock bent over the body. As he realized what had been done to it, his impassive face went stony with revulsion. After a moment, he lifted it, hoisting it up and around his shoulders. The snuffling sound came again, this time from the mist-drifted rocks behind him. He looked back. Just.the rocks, the fog coiling around them. He moved on-and suddenly the scraping noise broke out, close by all around him, moving with him as he moved. Aware of it, he didn't hurry, but maintained his pace, measured, controlled. Below him now he could see the Galileo, its terrified people huddled together at the hatch, watching him.
He reached them just as a spear clanged harmlessly against the ship's hull. McCoy and Boma ran to him to help him enter the hatch. Inside, McCoy reached toward the body's lolling head. "Is he... ?"
"Mr. Boma, secure that hatch!" Spock said. He walked swiftly toward the aft compartment. McCoy followed him and eased the body from his shoulders. Boma, up forward near the hatch window, called, "I see one out there!" Yeoman Mears, joining him, peered out the window. Shuddering, she covered her face with her hands. "Horri-ble... it's a monster...."
Boma, patting her shoulder, managed a wry grin. "We probably don't look so good to them, either."
Spock had gone to the forward window to look out of it. Something crashed against the hull. A great boulder tumbled past the window and rolled away to crash up against the side of the crater.
"All right, Spock," Boma said. "You have the answers. What now?"
Spock turned. "Your tone is hostile, Mr. Boma."
"My tone isn't the only thing that's hostile!"
"Strange," Spock mused. "Step by step I have done the logical thing."
McCoy blew up. "A little less analysis and a little more action! That's what we need!"
"How about analyzing what's happening to the plates of this craft?"
"The plates are titanite, Mr. Boma," Spock said. "They Will hold. At least for a time."
"We have phasers. We could drive them off!"
"Mr. Boma, every ounce of energy in the phasers is needed by Mr. Scott. Were we to attack the creatures, the energy expended might well provide the very impetus re-quired to secure our orbit."
The ship shook under another smash by a boulder-a bigger one, heavier, harder.
"How long, Mr. Scott?" Spock asked.
"Another hour. Maybe two."
"Can't you hurry it up?"
Scott raised an impatient face from his labor. "Doctor, phaser will drain only so fast."
A steady, relentless hammering had begun on the hull. Boma, looking up, saw its plates vibrating. "How long can those plates hold out under that?" he cried. "We've got to do something!"
All eyes were on Spock. He met them directly, his own calm, as composed as though theirs contained no accusation.
Kirk lacked Spock's stoic capacity to tolerate helpless-ness. Though the ion storm was dispersing, the Starship's slow recovery of its operational power had tightened his nerves to the breaking point. He snapped at Uhura. "Lieutenant, what word from the sensor section?"
"At last report they were beginning to get readings, but they were completely scrambled."
"I'm not interested in the last report! I want the current one!"
"Yes, sir."
Kirk slammed his fist into his palm. When the elevator door opened, he didn't turn his head. He heard Ferris clear his throat. Then he was beside him, glancing osten-tatiously at his watch. "You have three hours, Captain."
"I know the number of hours I have, Commissioner."
"Delighted to hear it. However, I shall continue to re-mind you."
"You do that," Kirk said.
Uhura spoke. "Sir, sensor section reporting. Stati
c in-terference still creating false images. Estimate 80 percent undependable."
"Radio communication?"
"Clearing slowly but still incapable of transmission and reception."
"What do you intend to do?" demanded Ferris.
Kirk's overstrained control broke. "Do? I'll keep on searching, foot by foot, inch by inch... by candlelight if I have to, so long as I have a second left! And if you'll keep your nose off my bridge, I'll be thankful!"
"I'm sure your diligence will please the authorities, Captain. I am not sure they will appreciate the way you address a High Commissioner."
"I am in command here!"
"You are, Captain. For exactly-" he consulted his watch-"two hours and forty-two minutes."
Spock slammed no fist into his palm. The hammering by great rocks continued to shake the Galileo-but his Vulcan heritage forbade any release of tension building up in him. Boma's panic had now taken the form of an open scorn. Nor was there the slightest sign of sympathy in the others. Never had the half-human in Spock felt so lonely. But he gave no evidence of it as he said, "Mr. Scott, how much power do we have in our central batteries?"
"They're in good shape, sir. But they won't lift us off, if that's what you're getting at."
"Are they strong enough to electrify the exterior of the ship?"
A slow grin spread over Scott's face. "That they are, laddie." Reaching for some cables, he detached them.
Spock spoke to the others. "Get into the center of the ship. Don't touch the plates. Be sure you're insulated."
They obeyed, watching as Scott clamped an electrode to a metal projection on one side of the ship's interior. He was preparing the second electrode when a ferocious smash-down resounded from over their heads. Scott nodded at Spock. "Stand by," Spock said.
The second electrode, attached, completed the circuit. Sparks flew up in a shower, followed by a wild shrieking of pain, shock and fury from outside the craft. The hammering stopped. Scott, releasing the electrodes, said, "I don't dare use any more power if we want to be sure of ignition."
Staring up at the silent hull, McCoy said, "It worked.
"For the moment," Spock said.
"For the moment?"
"Mr. Boma, they will return when they discover they're not seriously hurt. In the meantime, please check the aft compartment. See if there's anything else we can unload to lighten the ship."
Boma came back, grim-faced. "Gaetano's body is there."
"It will have to be left behind," Spock said.
"Not without a burial!"
"I would not recommend one, Mr. Boma. The creatures won't be far away." He paused. "A burial would expose the members of this crew to unnecessary peril."
"I'll take that chance," Boma said.
Spock looked at the alien human. "Do your vestigial ceremonies mean that much to you?"
"Spock, I would insist on a decent burial even if it were your body lying back there!"
"Mr. Boma!" It was McCoy's rebuke.
Boma whirled on him. "I'm sick and tired of this Vulcan machine!"
Scott had reddened with anger. "That's enough from you! Mr. Spock is a ranking Commander of the service!"
The ranking Commander spoke quietly. "You shall have your burial, Mr. Boma... if our friends permit it." McCoy, still smarting in Spock's behalf, moved over to him.
Landing party Two had beamed back to the Enter-prise from Taurus II with casualties-one crewman dead, two wounded.
"Lieutenant Kelowitz, what happened?"
Kirk had activated the computer screen at Spock's sta-tion. Now it held the smudged, scratched image of the landing party's leader. Kirk could see that his uniform was torn.
"We were attacked, sir. Huge, furry creatures. I checked with astral anthropology. Order 480G, anthro-poid, similar to life forms discovered on Hansen's planet-but much larger. Ten, twelve feet in height..."
"Your casualties?"
"Ensign O'Neill was speared even before we knew they were around. Crewman Immamura has a dislocated shoulder and severe lacerations, but he'll make it all right." The tired eyes on the screen were lost momentarily to horrified recollection of the monster anthropoids. "Cap-tain, they're all over the place. If the Galileo is down on that planet..."
Kirk nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You'd better report to Sickbay yourself."
"Aye, aye, sir."
The image faded-and Ferris strode out of the elevator, his jaw set. "Captain Kirk, if you will check your chronometer, you will see it is exactly 2823.8. Your time is up."
"Commissioner, my men are. still out there," Kirk said.
"So are the plague victims on New Paris! I now as-sume the authority granted me under Title Fifteen, Ga-lactic Emergency Procedures. I order you to abandon search, Captain."
Kirk said, "Shuttlecraft Columbus hasn't returned yet. I also have two search parties still out."
"You have your orders, Captain. Recall your search parties and proceed to Makus III immediately."
He was beaten.
His voice was inflectionless as he spoke to Uhura. "Lieutenant, order the Transporter Room to beam up the search parties still on the surface. Attempt contact with the Columbus."
"I'm in partial contact with them now, sir."
"Have them return at once." He left the computer sta-tion to return to his command chair. "Mr. Sulu, pre-pare to abandon search. Set course for Makus III."
Ferris left the bridge-and Kirk slumped back in his chair. There was nothing more to do, nothing more to say. Spock, McCoy, Scott-all dead, mercifully dead on that savage planet. Had their deaths been easy? Hardly. Uhura had to tell him twice that the sensor beams were working again.
No time to mourn. No time, period.
"The other systems?" he said to Uhura.
"No, sir. Still too much interference."
Sulu said, "Course set for Makus III, Captain."
"Thank you, Mr. Sulu. Steady on post. Lieutenant Uhura, how long before the Columbus comes aboard?"
"Twenty-three minutes, sir.".
"Twenty-three minutes," Kirk said. Then, leaning his arms on his console, he cupped his chin in his hands.
Yeoman Mears, no longer fresh-faced, but tired and worn, had failed again to contact the Enterprise, She snapped closed her communicator. "Nothing, sir," she told Spock. "Just ionic interference."
He went to Scott. "How about weight?"
Scott finished draining the last phaser. He looked up as he laid it aside. "If we shed every extra ounce of it, we may be able to achieve orbit."
"How long can we keep it?"
"A few hours. If we time it right, we could cut out of orbit with enough fuel for a controlled reentry."
"To land here again? Not an attractive possibility."
"We have very few alternatives," Scott said. He stooped to remove the drained phasers from the aisle as Boma and McCoy came from the aft compartment, carrying Gaetano's body.
"How does it look putside?" McCoy asked.
Spock glanced out the forward window. Then he spoke to Scott. "When can we lift off, Mr. Scott?"
"Maybe eight minutes if the weight's right."
Spock faced around from the window. "Doctor, Mr. Boma, the ship will lift off in exactly ten minutes. You have that long to bury Mr. Gaetano. It appears to be all clear outside, at least for the moment." He cautiously opened the hatch, peering around the crater. As he turned back inside, he said, "I shall assist you. Please hurry."
Yeoman Mears moved down the aisle to where Scott, at the control console, was warming up its equipment. "Can we get off?" she said.
"Oh, we can get off all right, lassie. But can we stay off? That's the question."
"If we make orbit, the Enterprise will-"
"By now," he said, "the Enterprise should be well on its way to Makus III."
"Then... we're alone."
"Not alone." He made a gesture toward the crater walls. "We've got some big hairy things out there to keep us company."
It was the th
ought of the big, hairy things that had brought Kirk to his decision. He uncupped his chin from his hands. "Mr. Sulu, proceed on course as ordered for Makus III. At space normal speed."
Sulu was startled. "But all systems report secured for warp factors, sir. Space normal speed?"
"You heard me, Mr. Sulu. Lieutenant Uhura, order all sensor sections to direct beams aft, full function, con-tinuous operation until further orders."