by 03(lit)
"Origin?"
"Mr. Sulu has computed the path of the machine, using the destroyed solar systems detected by ourselves and the Constellation as a base course. We find the path leads out of the galaxy at a sharp angle. Projected in the opposite direction, and assuming that the machine does not alter its course, it will go through the most densely populated section of our galaxy."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock. Maintain Yellow Alert and stand by. Commodore Decker, you've had a rough time. I think it would be best if you and Dr. McCoy beam back to my ship for a physical examination."
"Very well," Decker said. "But you heard your First Officer, Captain. That thing is heading for the heart of our galaxy-thousands of populated planets! What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to think," Kirk said. "Mr. Spock, have the Transporter Room beam Dr. McCoy and Commodore Decker aboard immediately."
A moment later, the two men shimmered out of exis-tence, leaving no one but Kirk and Scott on the dead engineers' bridge.
"They're aboard, Captain," Spock's voice said from the communicator. And then, without any transition at all, "Red alert! Red Alert! Mr. Sulu, out of the plane of the ecliptic at sixty degrees north! Warp One!"
"Mr. Spock!" Kirk shouted, although of course Spock could have heard him equally well if he had whispered. "Why the alert? Why are you running? I'm blind here."
"Commodore Decker's planet-killer, Captain. It just popped out of subspace. Metallic body, a large funnel-mouth, at least a mile long. It is pursuing us, but we seem to be able to maintain our distance at Warp One. No, it's gaining on us. Sensors indicate some kind of total conver-sion drive. No evidence of life aboard. Which is not surprising, since isotope dating indicates that it is at least three billion years old."
"Three billion!" Kirk said. "Mr. Spock, since it's a robot, what are our chances of deactivating it?"
"I would say none, Captain. I doubt that we would be able to maneuver close enough without drawing a direct attack upon ourselves. We could of course beam men aboard in spacesuits, but since the thing is obviously designed to be a doomsday machine, its control mechan-isms would be inaccessible on principle."
"A doomsday machine, sir?" Scott said.
"A calculated bluff, Scotty. A weapon so powerful that it will destroy both sides in a war if it's used. Evidently some race in another galaxy built one-this one-and its bluff was called. The machine is now all that's left of the race-and it's evidently programmed to keep on destroy-ing planets as long as it's functioning."
"Well, whatever happens, we can't let it go beyond us to the next solar system. We have to stop it here. You'd better..."
He was interrupted by the filtered sound of a con-cussion.
"Mr. Spock!" a distant voice called. It sounded like Uhura. "We've taken a hit! The transporter's out!"
"Emergency power on screens. Maximum evasive ac-tion! Phaser banks..."
And then the communicator went dead.
"Spock! Come in! Spock!" It was useless. "Scotty- we're stuck here. Deaf and blind."
"Worse than that, Captain. We're paralyzed, too. The warp drive is just so much wreckage."
"We can't just sit here while that thing attacks our ship. Forget the warp drive and get me some impulse power- half-power, quarter-power, anything I can maneuver with, even if you have to get out and push."
"But we'd never be able to outrun..."
"We're going to fight the thing, not outrun it," Kirk said grimly. "If we can get this hulk going, we may be able to distract the robot, and give the Enterprise a better chance to strike at it. Get cracking, Scotty. I'm going to see what I can do with this viewscreen. We can't move until I can see where we're going."
Seated in the Captain's chair, Spock evaluated the dam-age. Warp and impulse drives were still operative. As he checked, Commodore Decker and McCoy watched him tensely.
"Communications?"
"Under repair, Mr. Spock," Uhura said.
"Transporter?"
Sulu said, "Also under repair."
"Hmm," Spock said. "Random factors seem to have operated in our favor."
"In plain, non-Vulcan English," McCoy said, "we've been lucky."
"Isn't that what I said, Doctor?" Spock said blandly.
"The machine's veering off," Sulu reported. "It's back on its old course. Next in line is the Rigel system."
"No doubt programmed to ignore anything as small as a ship beyond a certain radius," Spock said. "Mr. Sulu, circle back so we can pick up the Captain while we effect repairs. We may have to take the Constellation in tow..."
"You can't let that thing reach Rigel!" Decker broke in. "Millions of innocent people..."
"I am aware of the population of the Rigel colonies, Commodore, but we are only one ship. Our deflector generators are strained. Our radio is useless as long as we are in the vicinity of the robot. Logic dictates that our primary duty is to survive to warn Starfleet Command."
"Our primary duty is to maintain the life and safety of Federation planets! Helmsman, belay that last order! Track and close on that machine!"
Sulu looked questioningly at Spock. It was a difficult problem. Kirk had left Spock in command, but Decker was the senior officer aboard. Spock said evenly, "Carry out my last order, Mr. Sulu."
"Mr. Spock," Decker said, "I'm formally notifying you that I am exercising my option under regulations as senior officer to assume command of the Enterprise. That thing has got to be destroyed."
"You attempted to destroy it before, sir," Spock said, "and it resulted in a wrecked ship and a dead crew. Clearly a single ship cannot combat that machine."
Decker winced, then stabbed a finger at Spock. "That will be all, Mr. Spock. You're relieved of command. Don't force me to relieve you of duty as well."
Spock got up. McCoy grabbed his arm. "Spock, you can't let him do this!"
"Unfortunately," Spock said, "Starfleet Order one-zero-four, Section B, reads, Paragraph A, 'In the absence of the....' "
"To blazes with regulations! How can you let him take command when you know he's wrong?"
"If you can officially certify Commodore Decker medi-cally or psychologically unfit to command, I may relieve him under Section C."
"I can't do that," McCoy said. "He's as sound as any of us. I can say his present plan is crazy, but medically I'd have to classify that as a difference of opinion, not a diagnosis."
"Mr. Spock knows his duties under the regulation," Decker said. "Do you, Doctor?"
"Yes, sir," McCoy said disgustedly. "To go to Sickbay and wait for the casualties you're about to send me." He stalked out.
"Hard about and close," Decker said. "Full emergency power on deflectors. Stand by on main phaser banks."
On the viewscreen, the planet-killer began to grow in size. Decker stared at it with grim intensity, as though the combat to come was to be a personal one, hand-to-hand.
"In range, sir," Sulu reported.
"Fire phasers!"
The beams lanced out. It was a direct hit-but there seemed to be no effect at all. The beams simply bounced off.
In answer, a pencil of solid blue light leapt out of the maw of the planet-killer. The Enterprise seemed to stag-ger, and for a moment all the lights went down.
"Whew!" Sulu said. "What is that thing?"
"It's an anti-proton beam," Decker said in an abstract-ed voice. "It's what the machine cut the fourth planet up with."
"The deflectors weren't built to take it, sir," Spock said. "The next time, the generators may blow."
Decker paid no attention. "Keep closing and maintain phaser fire."
Spock studied his instruments. "Sir," he said, "sensors indicate that the robot's hull is neutronium-collapsed matter so dense that a cubic inch of it would weigh a ton. We could no more get a phaser beam through it than we could a matchstick. If we could somehow get a clear shot at the internal mechanism..."
"Now that's more like it, Mr. Spock. We'll cut right across the thing's funnel and ram a phaser beam down its throat.
Helmsman, change course to intercept."
Sulu shifted the controls cautiously, obviously expecting another blow from the anti-proton beam; but evidently the monstrous mechanism had no objection to having this morsel sailing directly into its maw.
"Fire!"
The phasers cut loose. Sulu studied the screen intently.
"Those beams are just bouncing around inside," he reported. "We can't get a shot straight through."
"Close in."
"Sir," Spock said, "any closer and that anti-proton beam will go through our deflectors like tissue paper."
"We'll take the chance. Thousands of planets are at stake."
"Sir, there is no chance at all. It is pure suicide. And attempted suicide would be proof that you are psychologi-cally unfit to command. Unless you give the order to veer off, I will relieve you on that basis."
"Vulcan logic!" Decker said in disgust. "Blackmail would be a more honest word. All right, helmsman, veer off-emergency impulse power."
"Commodore," Sulu said in a strained voice, "I can't veer off. That thing's got some kind of a tractor beam on us."
"Can it pull us in?"
"No, sir, we can manage a stand-off, for perhaps seven hours. In the meantime it can take pot shots at us whenev-er it likes."
On the engineers' bridge of the Constellation, the viewscreen finally lit. Kirk stared at what it showed with shock and disbelief. A gasp from behind him told him that Scott had just entered the bridge.
"Is Spock out of his mind?"
"I don't understand it either-I ordered evasive action. What's the situation below?"
"We've got the screens up, but they won't last more than a few hours, and they can't take a beating. As for the impulse drive, the best I can give you is one-third power. And at that I'll have to nurse it."
"Go ahead then. We've got to break up that death-dance out there somehow." As Scott left, Kirk once more tried his communicator. To his gratification, he got Lt. Uhura at once; evidently the Enterprise, too, had been making repairs. "Lieutenant, give me Mr. Spock, fast."
But the next voice said: "Enterprise to Kirk. Com-modore Decker here."
"Decker? What's going on? Give me Mr. Spock!"
"I'm in command here, Captain. According to regula-tions, I assumed command on finding Mr. Spock reluc-tant to take proper action..."
"You mean you're the lunatic responsible for almost destroying my ship? Mr. Spock, if you can hear me, I give you a direct order to answer me."
"Spock here, Captain."
"Good. On my personal authority as Captain of the En-terprise, I order you to relieve Commodore Decker. Com-modore, you may file a formal protest of the violation of regulations involved with Starfleet Command-if any of us live to reach a star base. In the meantime, Mr. Spock, if the Commodore resists being relieved, place him under arrest. Is that clear?"
"Not only is it clear," Spock's voice said, "but I have just done so. Your further orders, sir?"
"Get away from that machine!"
"Sir, we can't; we have been pegged by a tractor. The best we can do is prevent ourselves from being pulled inside it, for about the next six point five hours-or until it decides to shoot at us again."
"I was afraid of that. All right, I'm going to move the Constellation into your vicinity and see if I can distract the machine. With the power I've got available, it will take at least three hours. Is your transporter working again, too?"
"Yes, sir, but I assure you that you'd be no safer here than there."
"I'm aware of that, Mr. Spock. I just want to be sure you can beam me aboard once we're in range, so I can take command personally from the Commodore if he gives you any trouble. That's all for now. Kirk out."
Kirk set the Constellation in creaking motion and then thought a while. Finally he called Scott.
"How's the drive holding up, Scotty?"
"Under protest, I would say, sir," Scott responded. "But if you don't demand any violent maneuvers I think it'll stay in one piece."
"Very well. Now I need an engineering assessment. What would happen if the reactor were to go critical?"
"Why, Captain, you know as well as I do-a fusion explosion, of course."
"Yes, Scotty, but if this reactor were to do so, how big would the explosion be?"
"Oh," Scott's voice said. "That's easily answered, the potential is always on the faceplate of a ship's reactor; I'll just check it... The figure is 97.8 megatons."
"Would the resulting fireball be sufficient to disrupt a neutronium hull?"
"Neutronium, sir? You mean the planet-killer? What makes you think the hull is neutronium?"
"Because from this distance the Enterprise could have cut it into scrap metal by now if it weren't."
"Hmm-aye, that follows. Well, Captain, neutronium is formed in the cores of white dwarf stars, with fusion going on all around it. So I'd say the fireball would just push the machine away, rather than collapsing the hull. And sir, in a vacuum the fireball would be something like a hundred and fifty miles in diameter. That means it would envelop the Enterprise too-and we don't have a neutronium hull."
"That's true, but it isn't what I have in mind. Scotty, I want you to rig a thirty-second delayed detonation switch, so the reactor can be blown from up here on the engineers' bridge. Can do?"
"Aye, sir," Scott said. "But why..."
"Just rig it, fast. Then get yourself and the damage control party up here. Kirk to Enterprise."
"Spock here."
"Mr. Spock, I don't have any sensors over here worth mentioning, so I won't know when I'm in transporter range. The instant I am, let me know."
"Acknowledge. May I ask your intent, Captain?"
"Scotty is rigging a thirty-second delayed detonation switch on the impulse power reactor of the Constellation. I am going to pilot the vessel right down the planet-killer's throat-and you'll have thirty seconds to beam the five of us aboard the Enterprise before the reactor blows."
There was a brief pause. When Spock's voice returned, there actually seemed to be a faint trace of human concern in it. "Jim, thirty seconds is very fine timing. The trans-porter is not working at a hundred per cent efficiency; our repairs were necessarily rather hasty."
"That's a chance I'll have to take. However, it does change things a little. I'll want you to beam Mr. Scott and the damage control party over as soon as we are in range. I'll be the only one to stay aboard until the last minute."
"Acknowledge. Sir, may I point out two possible other flaws?"
While Spock was talking, Scott came into the room carrying a small black box. Mounted on it was a single three-position knife switch-that is, one with two slots for the blade, the third position being disengaged from either. He set it down on the panel in front of Kirk.
"Go ahead, Mr. Spock, your advice is half your value. Where are the flaws?"
"First, we cannot know the composition of the interior workings of the planet-killer. If they too are neutronium, nothing will happen except that it will get very hot inside there."
" 'Very hot' is certainly a mild way of putting it," Kirk said drily. "All right, Mr. Spock, to use logic right back at you, Proposition A: The planet-killer operates in a vacu-um, which means most of its circuits are cryogenic. Heating them a few million degrees may be quite enough to knock it out. Proposition B: Pure neutronium cannot carry an elecrical current, because its electron shells are collapsed. Hence, many important parts of the planet-killer's interior cannot be neutronium. Conclusion: an interior fusion explosion will kill it. How is that for a syllogism?"
"It is not a syllogism at all, Captain, but a sorites; however, I agree that it is a sound one. My second objec-tion is more serious. The planet-killer is open to space at one end, and that is the end facing us. The neutronium hull will confine the fireball and shoot it directly out of the funnel at the Enterprise in a tongue of flame hundreds of miles long. This is an undesirable outcome."
Kirk almost laughed, although there was nothing in the least funny ab
out the objection itself. "Mr. Spock, if that happens, we will all die. But the planet-killer will have been destroyed. Our mandate is to protect Federation lives, property and Interests. Hence this outcome, as you call it, is in fact more desirable than undesirable."