Star Trek - Blish, James - 10

by 10(lit)

  Silent, Kirk looked at the communicator. "I need your help, Kirk!" Tracy cried. "They'll attack the village now! My phaser is almost drained; we need more, fresh ones."

  So that was it. The Enterprise was to get into the weapon-smuggling business to accommodate this madman. At the look on Kirk's face, Tracy shouted, "You're not just going to stand there and let them kill you, are you? If I put a weapon in your hand, you'll fight, won't you?

  Reason, sanity. Was Tracy any longer capable of either one? Kirk said, "We can beam back up to the ship. All of us."

  "I want five phasers... no, make it ten. Three extra power packs each."

  "All right," Kirk said. The phaser lifted and aimed at him as Tracy waited. Kirk clicked the communicator open.

  "Enterprise, this is Captain Kirk."

  He could hear the relief in Uhura's voice. "Captain! Are you all right now?"

  "Quite all right, Lieutenant. I want ten phasers beamed down, three extra power packs each. Do you have that?"

  Uhura didn't answer. "Say again!" Tracy said.

  "Enterprise, do you read?"

  Sulu's voice spoke. "This is Sulu, Captain. We read you-but surely you know that can't be done without verification."

  "Not even if we're in danger, Mr. Sulu?"

  A good man, Sulu. And smart. "Captain, we have volunteers standing by to beam down. What is your situa-tion?"

  Tracy made an impatient gesture.

  "It's not an immediate danger, Mr. Sulu. Stand by on the volunteers. We'll let you know. Landing party out."

  Kirk snapped off the communicator. Tracy nodded in a begrudged approval. "You have a well trained bridge crew. My compliments." He extended his hand for the communicator. It was the chance Kirk had been waiting for. He grabbed the hand, twisted it; and lashing out with his fist, knocked Tracy off balance, reaching for the phaser. But Tracy eluded the reach and, rolling with the blow, came back with the weapon at the ready. As Kirk dived around a building corner, he fired it. The beam struck a rainbarrel-and the chase began.

  The dash around the building corner put Kirk in an alley he recognized. It was the one that passed the jail's cellblock. Racing by a Kohm cart, he made for the jail. Behind him, Tracy leaned against the cart, kneeling to aim at Kirk's back. But his weight was too heavy for the flimsy cart. Its rear wheel collapsed. Kirk ran on. He jumped into cover through the jail's rear door. He was barely inside when a phaser beam blasted a porch sup-port. He heard the porch crash down.

  The iron lattice that had felled him-it would still be in his cell. He found it. Not much use against a phaser, but it was all he had. Opposite the jail's front door was the execution block. As he emerged from the door he saw Tracy standing beside it. The phaser came up. Tracy fired it point blank. Nothing happened. Tracy stared at the drained phaser. Then, flinging it aside, he grabbed up the executioner's ax. He charged Kirk, taking a murderous swing at him. Kirk ducked and slammed the iron lattice into his middle. Tracy fell, but kicking out, tripped Kirk; and the two closed, grappling in the dirt.

  Tracy had kneed him in the groin when he gave a cry. The point of a spear had pricked his shoulder. Both men looked up. The Yang stood over them. Behind him were ranged other armed white savages.

  The brazier had been removed from the central table in the villagers' clubhouse. Now it held a worn parchment document, some ancient-looking books and Tracy's communicator. The whole interior of the room had been altered into what Kirk could only consider to be a primi-tive court scene. White savages composed the "jury." Among the men Kirk saw the young woman from the jail cell. He, Spock, McCoy and Tracy had been seated to the left of the table.

  The male Yang of the jail cell strode to the seat behind the table.

  He looked at Kirk. "My name," he said, "is Cloud William." Then he looked away to nod at one of his warriors guarding the door. A procession of Kohm Elders were herded into the room and up to the table. Kirk looked anxiously at the stiff figure of Spock. "I am weak, Captain, but not in difficulty."

  McCoy leaned over to Kirk. "He must have attention, Jim! And soon."

  Spock indicated the Kohms. "Prisoners, Captain. It seems they like killing less than we thought."

  Kirk glanced around at the rough courtlike arrange-ments. "If my ancestors had been forced from their cities into deserts, the hills..."

  "Yes, Captain," Spock said. "They would have learned to wear animal skins, adopted stoic mannerisms, devised the bow and the lance."

  "Living much like Indians... and finally even looking like the American Indians." He paused, startled by his pwn sudden idea. "Spock! Yangs... yanks... Yankees! Is it possible?"

  Spock nodded. "Kohms... kohmunists. Almost too close a parallel, Captain. It would mean they fought the war you avoided and here the Asiatics won, took over the Western world."

  "And yet if that were true, Spock, all these genera-tions of Yanks fighting to win back their land..."

  "You're a romantic, Jim," McCoy said.

  He sat back in his chair. Yang warriors were pushing their Kohm prisoners into attitudes of respect. The crash of a drumbeat's ceremonial tattoo silenced the room. Proud and tall, Cloud William rose from his seat behind the table.

  "That which is ours is ours again! It will never be taken from us again." He pointed to the rear door and a steady drumbeat throbbed. "For this day we mark with the great Ay Pledgili Holy!"

  Turning to look, Kirk, Spock and McCoy stiffened in unbelieving amazement. The door had opened. A guard- an honor guard-had entered. One carried a staff. From it hung an incredibly old and tattered flag, its red, white and blue faded by time. But its stars and its stripes had out-lasted the centuries' ravages. They had triumphed over time.

  Kirk, watching the flag proudly planted in its stand at the front of the room, felt his blood chill with awe.

  Tracy whispered, "The American flag!"

  Kirk turned to Spock. "After so long, I wonder if they really understand what they were fighting for."

  "I doubt it, Captain. Some customs remain, but most of them would have become only traditions by now."

  "And ritual," McCoy said. "The flag was called a 'holy.' "

  Tracy said, "They can be handled, Kirk. Together, it will be easy." He leaned toward the three of them. "I caution you, gentlemen, don't fight me here. I'll win-or at worst, I'll drag you down with-"

  He was silenced by a nudge from a spear. Cloud William was speaking. "I, Cloud William, am chief, also the son of chief, Guardian of the holies, Speaker of holy words, leader of warriors. Many have died; but this is the last of the Kohm places. What is ours is ours again."

  The words were repeated by the crowd. "What is ours is ours again!"

  Cloud William placed his right hand over his heart. "You will say these holy words after me." The Yang guards placed the Kohm prisoners' right hands over their hearts. Cloud William turned to the old flag. "You will all say Ay pledgli ianectu flaggen tupep likfor stahn..."

  Kirk sprang to his feet. "... and to the republic for which it stands. One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all!"

  The room exploded in shouts. A guard, moving to Kirk, halted in shock.

  Cloud William was in quiet but agitated conversation with an aged savage at his table. The old man, shaking his head, referred to one of the yellowed books on it. Guards were removing the Kohm prisoners from the room. Two warriors, uneasy and uncertain, moved toward Kirk. One motioned him to face the Yang chief.

  The chief was rapping the butt of his knife on the table to quiet the room.

  "You know many of our high-worship words. How?"

  Kirk said, "In my land we have a-a tribe like you."

  "Where is your tribe?"

  Kirk pointed upward. "We come from there. From one of those points of light you see at night."

  Uproar broke out again. Kirk tried to go on but his words were drowned by the noise. Cloud William rapped for quiet once more. He turned to nod at the old Yang scholar beside him. The still-keen eyes
fixed on Kirk. "Why are you here? Were you cast out?"

  The Yang jury waited for his answer. Kirk spoke care-fully. "You are confusing the stars with 'heaven' from which-"

  "He was cast out!" Tracy shouted.

  He jumped from his chair to confront the jury. "Don't you recognize the Evil One? Who else would trick you with your own sacred words? Let your God strike me dead if I lie!" He looked upward. "But He won't because I speak for Him!"

  The brutal murder of Raintree... the betrayal of his service oath... now this exploitation of ignorance and superstition. He should have known, Kirk thought. To further his purpose there was nothing that Tracy would not do. But the old Yang scholar had hurriedly opened a thick, black book.

  Cloud William was studying Tracy. "Yet you have killed many Yangs," he said.

  "To punish them. You would not listen when I tried to speak with you. You tried to kill me."

  Kirk said, "I am a man like yourself. I am not God. I am not the Evil One."

  "Would a man know your holy words?" cried Tracy. "Could a man use them to trick you?" He extended a dramatic ringer at Spock. 'And see his servant! His face, his ears, his eyes! Do Yang legends describe the Evil One?"

  Kirk turned to the tribunal. "Do all your faces look alike? Can you tell from them which of you is good and which is bad?"

  The old scholar had pushed the black book before the chief. Cloud William lifted it to kiss it reverently before he opened it. Kirk saw that its worn gold-lettered title was still legible. It read "Holy Bible." A wrinkled hand extended a finger to point to a page.

  Many old Bibles contained illustrations. If this one pic-tured drawings of Lucifer's aides, one of them might bear some resemblance to Spock. One apparently did. Cloud William looked at Spock. Then he looked back at Kirk.

  "You command the demon," Tracy said to Kirk. "Everyone has seen it." He wheeled to the chief. "You want more proof? The demon has no heart! Put your ear to him!"

  Guards had seized Spock. The chief left the table.

  McCoy cried, "His heart is different! The Vulcan inter-nal organs are-"

  "I have seen his sorcery," said Cloud William. He fin-gered the back of his neck. "When he touched my woman there, she fell into sleep." He crossed to Spock and solemnly placed his ear against the Science Officer's chest. Listening, a frown began to gather on his forehead. He straightened up. "He has no heart."

  The room burst into terrified yells. They subsided as Cloud William raised his right arm. Then he hurried back to his ancient mentor. "There is a way," he was told. Painfully, the aged scholar moved to a large ornate box at the end of the table. Cloud William nodded in ob-vious relief.

  "The greatest of holies," he said. "Chiefs and the sons of chiefs may speak the words... but the tongue of the Evil One would surely turn to fire." He looked straight at Kirk and Tracy. "I will begin and you will finish." He closed his eyes, chanting, "Ee'd pebnista nordor former fektunun..."

  His lids lifted. He waited.

  There was something unplaceable but familiar in the chanted words. As Kirk struggled to identify them, Tracy cried out, "He fears to speak them for indeed his tongue would burn with fire! Kill his servant unless he speaks, so we may see if the words burn him!"

  A Yang knife was poised at Spock's abdomen. The clamor for blood turned the room into bedlam. Cloud William, his face deeply troubled, had given the signal for the knife plunge when Kirk shouted, "No! Wait! There's a better way! Your sacred book, does it not promise good is stronger than evil?"

  "Captain..." But over Spock's protest rang out the voice of the young Yang woman of the jail cell. "Yes, it is so written! Good will always destroy evil!"

  "It is written," said the old scholar.

  The guards had bound both Kirk and Tracy. Now a Yang warrior cut their thongs. The room had been cleared of furniture. In its central space Cloud William drove two razor-sharp knives into the floorboards. Kirk tried to rub circulation back into his numbed hands.

  "Careful, Jim," McCoy said. "I've found Evil usually triumphs unless Good is very, very careful."

  Kirk nodded wordlessly. He walked over to where the two knives thrust upward from the flooring.

  "The fight is done when one is dead," Cloud William said. Lifting his arm, he dropped it swiftly, shouting, "Hola!"

  Tracy was the first to reach his knife. He shoulder-butted Kirk aside and kicked his knife away. Then he lunged, knife raised. Kirk met him and, seizing his wrist, immobilized the down-thrust. They locked in a wrestle, straining against each other for an opening.

  McCoy muttered, "We've got to do something, Spock."

  Spock strove with his bound hands. "I am open to sug-gestions, Doctor."

  Kirk broke free. He got a hammerlock on Tracy; but the Exeter Captain, wriggling himself out of it, was carried away by the momentum of his own move. Kirk stooped and scooped up his knife. The two began a wary circling of each other.

  Spock suddenly became conscious of eyes. They be-longed to Cloud William's young woman. He saw a tremor pass over her as their eyes locked. Half-fascinated, half-repelled, she tore her gaze from his. Then she looked at him again. He beckoned her toward him with his head. McCoy saw the gesture. "What are you doing?" he said.

  "Making suggestions," Spock said.

  Tracy had nicked Kirk. As he withdrew his knife, Kirk drove at him with a swift thrust; but Tracy parried the slash and the young woman, unnoticed, began to make her way through the shouting warriors. Edging along the wall, she reached the table that still held the old docu-ments, the books and the communicator. She paused, glancing back at the two fighting men. Tracy's knife flashed out, cutting Kirk's sleeve and arm. Blood dripped to the floor. But the young woman had the conamunicator. Holding it so that it couldn't be seen, she moved toward Spock and McCoy. Spock looked up at her. "Do as my mind instructs you, woman," he said.

  "I obey," she said.

  Kirk was losing the fight. His shoulder was slashed now and the crowd howled for more blood. Then Tracy finally made his mistake. Caught off guard by a feint from Kirk, he stumbled. Kirk hauled back-and landed a blow that spun Tracy around and down. Kirk was on him, his knife at his throat. He held it there, his left hand reaching for Tracy's weapon. He wrenched it from him and sent it skidding across the floor to Cloud William's feet. A sudden silence fell over the room.

  "Kill him," Cloud William said. "It is written Good must destroy Evil."

  Kirk lifted the knife from Tracy's throat, rose to his feet and was backing away when he heard a familiar hum in the stillness. He whirled. Sulu and two Security guards had sparkled into shape beside him. Around the room Yang warriors were dropping to their knees. At stiff atten-tion Sulu said, "Sir, we picked up a communicator signal but we couldn't raise anyone. Adding that to-"

  "We'll discuss it later, Lieutenant. Put Captain Tracy under arrest. Now, Cloud William..."

  The Yang chief had crawled to his feet. "You are a great God servant, and we shall be your slaves."

  Kirk reached down, lifting him to his feet. "Get up! Stand and face me."

  "When you would not say the words of the holy Ee'd Pebnista, I doubted you."

  Kirk said, "I did not recognize the words because you say them badly... without meaning."

  The old Yang scholar had lifted the ornate box high in the air. Kirk approached him and gently removed it. He opened it, took out a ragged fragment of ancient parch-ment. Aghast, the old man cried, "Only the eyes of a chief may see the Ee'd Pebnista!"

  "This was not written for chiefs." Kirk turned. "Hear this, Cloud William. This is your world. But perhaps without violating our laws, we can teach you what your fathers meant by these words."

  He raised the tattered parchment so that all could see it. "Among my people, we carry many such words as this, from many lands, from many worlds. Many are equally good and well respected. But wherever we have gone, there are no words which have ever said this thing of importance in quite this way. Look at these three words written larger than all the others an
d with a special pride never written before or since... in tall words, proudly saying..." He paused.

  "We the people..."

  He faced Cloud William. "What you call the Ee'd Pebnista was not for chiefs or kings or warriors or the rich and powerful... but for all people. Over the cen-turies you have slurred the meaning out of the words. They are these...."

  Reading from the parchment, he spoke slowly and clearly. "We... the... people... of the United States... in order to form a more perfect union, to establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity-do ordain and establish this Constitution."