by 03(lit)
"I hope they're faking as well as or better than we are. Otherwise, when we get back, we'll all be up on charges." The intercom beeped. "Kirk here."
"Sir, I'm having trouble on this line, I can barely hear you."
"Right." Kirk switched off, produced his communica-tor, and set it to subspace level and on "scramble." "Okay, Scotty, here I am. Go ahead."
"We can do it, Captain. But when we interrupt engine circuits, to tie in the power increase to the transporters, it'll show up on the Security Board. We'll just need a second, but..."
"All right, wait a minute." Kirk thought fast. "Lieu-tenant Uhura, this is going to be nasty. I noticed the local Chekov giving you the eye..."
"He made a flat-out pass at me before you came on the bridge, Captain."
"All the better. For the sake of our getting home, could you encourage him a little?"
Uhura said slowly, "I wouldn't pull a mean trick like that on our Chekov. And this one gives me the crawls. But-of course, Captain, if you wish."
"Good girl. Scotty, Uhura can create a diversion on the bridge, which will draw Sulu's attention, I think, at your signal. Now, everyone back to posts, before somebody cottons to the fact that this looks like a council of war."
Uhura slipped out silently. Kirk, too, was about to go, when Spock entered the briefing room by another door, and saluted.
"Captain, a word with you, if I may."
"Of course."
"I should regret your death."
Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Very kind of you, Mr. Spock."
"Kindness is not involved. As you know, I do not desire the captaincy. I much prefer my scientific duties- and I am frankly content to be a lesser target."
"Quite logical, as always, Mr. Spock."
"Therefore I am moved to inquire if you intend to persist in your unusual course of action regarding the Halkans."
"My orders stand."
"I presume you have a plan. I have found you to be an excellent officer. Our missions together have been success-ful ones."
"I remember," Kirk said. "Perhaps better than you do."
"I never forget anything."
"I remember that too. Then you will also remember the illogic of waste, Mr. Spock. Is it logical to destroy potential workers-equipment-valuable installations-without making every effort to put them on a useful basis? Surely the Empire can afford a little patience."
"Logically, we must maintain the terror," Spock said. "Otherwise the Empire will develop soft spots, and the rot will spread."
"The Halkans made the same point. Is history with us? Conquest is easy-control is not."
"History seldom repeats itself," Spock said, frowning. "Yet I concede that no regime such as ours has ever survived the eventual fury of its victims. The question is, has our power become so vast, quantitatively, as to make a qualitative change in that situation? Space, as you say, is against us; its sheer vastness makes communication difficult, let alone control-I did not know you were a phil-osopher, Captain. We have never talked this way before."
"Perhaps overdue, Mr. Spock."
"That is more than possible. I do not judge Command-er Moreau to be much of a thinker."
There was quite a long silence, during which Kirk won-dered who in blazes Commander Moreau was. Most likely, the man who was gunning for the Captain's job.
"Sir," Spock said finally, "I have received a private message from Starfleet Command. I am committing a serious breach of regulations by informing you of its contents. But other considerations supervene. Briefly, I have been instructed to wait until planet dawn over princi-pal target, to permit you to complete our mission. Your delaying maneuver was of course reported to Starfleet Command by Mr. Sulu."
"And if I don't?"
"In that event," Spock said, his voice somehow both harsh and reluctant at the same time, "I am ordered to have you killed, and proceed against the Halkans, as the new Captain of the Enterprise. I shall of course remove Moreau too, making it appear that he was killed by your agents."
"Logical," Kirk said bitterly. "But thank you for the warning, Mr. Spock."
"I regret the situation. I shall remain in my quarters throughout the night-in case you should wish to contact me privately."
"Thank you again. But there will be no change."
"Sir-under the circumstances-may I express the greatest curiosity concerning your motives?"
"I'm almost tempted to tell you, Mr. Spock. But you'll understand in time. Carry on."
When he left, Kirk sat down at the table. He knew he should be back on the bridge, carrying on the masquerade. But even with Spock's odd sort of cooper-ation, even supposing Scotty could get them back to their own universe, that would leave the biggest problem un-solved: the fate of the Halkans in this alternate universe. No matter what happened to Kirk, McCoy, Scott and Uhura, the Halkans seemed to be destined for slaughter. And he could think of no way to prevent it.
Then the communicator beeped. "Kirk here."
"Captain, this is Scotty. I've got the whole thing rigged, with McCoy's help. I'm thinking of making him assistant engineer. But in checking it out with the computer, I discovered somethin' vurra worrisome. The two-way mat-ter transmission affected local field density between the two universes-and it's increasing. We've got to move fast. We have half an hour at most. If we miss, we couldn't push back through for a century."
"What's the procedure, Scotty?"
"We're about ready to bridge power from the warp en-gines to the beams. You've got to go to the main controls and free the board, so we can lock in. Give us ten clock minutes, then you and Lieutenant Uhura create your diversion, and run like Martian scopolamanders for the Transporter Room."
"Right. Count down on the time. Five... four... three... two... one... hack."
"Got you. Good luck, Captain."
No time now to worry about the Halkans; but Kirk worried, nonetheless. On the bridge, Sulu looked speculatively, coldly, at Kirk as Kirk resumed the Captain's chair.
"Orders, Captain?"
"Prepare to lock on to Target A. We fire at planet dawn."
Sulu smiled coldly. "I am glad to see that you have come to your senses. All this computer activity obviously has produced no alternative answer, except to make me wonder if you had gone soft. And while Mr. Spock would no doubt make an excellent captain, you were once clearly the better one. I hope you will continue to be."
Kirk was so sick at the order he had had to give that he did not bother to disguise his disgust. "You don't miss much, do you, Mr. Sulu."
"A good Security Officer misses nothing. Otherwise he would deserve to go to the Agony Booth."
Well, Kirk thought grimly, you may yet, Mr. Pseudo-Sulu. Obviously you don't know what that computer activ-ity really was about.
The Halkan planet's image was showing on Uhura's viewscreen. Chekov was watching her, with very much the same lubricious expression as before. She looked up at the image, and then, as if to herself, said, "Just once, I'd like to think about something besides death."
Sulu shot one contemptuous glance at her and went back to watching the master board. When Scott made his power switch from the warp engines to the transporters, he would catch it.
Uhura looked away from the screen toward Chekov. Her glance was steady for a moment, and then she looked down. Her veiled eyes suggested that she just might be persuaded to change her mind.
The navigator grinned, leaned back in his seat. His arm went out and around toward Uhura's waist.
Sulu paid no attention. And there was one minute left.
Slap!
Sulu looked up. Uhura was standing, in furious indig-nation. She fell back, one, two, three calculated steps toward Sulu's board. Chekov, astonishment changing to rage, was standing too.
But Sulu seemed to be no more than amused. "As you were, Chekov."
Chekov was not ready to be as he was. He seemed almost ready to attack Uhura. Kirk saw an opening and jumped in.
"Is this the kind of horseplay th
at goes on when I'm not on the bridge? And at moments as critical as this? Mr. Chekov, you are on report; I'll tend to you later. Lieu-tenant Uhura, you provoked this; proceed immediately to the Booth. Mr. Sulu, take Lieutenant Uhura's post."
"Sir," Sulu said. "Why are you also leaving?" The 'sir' was silkily insulting.
"I am going to explain personally to Lieutenant Uhura why she is in the Booth. I'll return shortly; in the mean-time, follow standard procedure."
He had caught the streak of sadism and lechery in these loathsome counterparts of his crew. Every man on the bridge grinned slyly and licked his lips.
Then Kirk and Uhura were out, and running for the Transporter Room.
Spock and two crewmen were waiting for them there, with drawn phasers.
"Well, Mr. Spock? Have you decided to kill me now, even though I am following my orders?"
"No, Captain. But strange things have occurred since the return of your landing party-including some remark-able calls upon the computer, which I find sealed against me. Nothing in the computer should be sealed against the First Officer. And you are preparing to use an enor-mous surge of power in the transporter. That could be most dangerous. I must ask you: where do you think you are going, Captain-you and your three conspirators?"
"Home," Kirk said.
"To the alternate universe?"
"You understand that?"
"Yes, Captain. And I concur. I will ask you only to gun me down with a stun charge before you leave. My henchmen here will support any story I tell thereafter."
McCoy said, "Mr. Spock, in my universe you and I often disagreed, and in this universe I hated you. But you seem to be a man of integrity in both universes."
"It is only logical," Spock said. "You must return to your universe, so that I can have my Captain back. I will operate the transporter. You have two minutes and twenty seconds left."
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "I will shave that time as close as possible. I want to ask you this: How long do you think it will be before the Halkans' prediction of galactic revolt is realized?"
Spock blinked, as if the sudden change of subject had taken him unawares. "I would estimate-approximately two hundred and forty years."
"And what will be the inevitable outcome?"
"The Empire will be overthrown, of course. A sort of federation may replace it, if the period of interdestruction is not too devastating."
"Mr. Spock. Consider the illogic of waste. Waste of lives, resources, potentials, time. It is not logical of you to give your vast talents to an empire which you know is doomed."
"You have one minute and twenty-three seconds."
"When change is both predictable and beneficial, why do you resist it?" '
"Suicide is also illogical. One man cannot summon the future."
Kirk closed on this man, who looked and acted so much like his First Officer, and yet had so little of the real Spock's hidden humanity in him. "Mr. Spock, one man can change the present. Be the Captain of this Enterprise, whether you want the job or not. Find a logical reason for sparing the Halkans, and making it stick. Push where it gives. You can defend yourself better than any man in the fleet, if you are anything like my First Officer, and I think you are. In every revolution, there's one man with a vision. Which will it be? Past or future? Tyranny, or the right to hope, trust, love? Even here, Spock, you cannot be totally without the decency you've shown on the-the other side. Use it, make it work!"
"You must go," Spock said. "But my Captain never said any such words to me. I will remember them. I can promise nothing else, though I will save the Halkans if I can. Now, quickly! You have eighteen seconds left! Shoot! And goodbye, Jim Kirk."
Kirk stepped onto the transporter platform with the others. He raised the phaser, set to "stun," but it was very hard to pull the trigger all the same.
Kirk relaxed in his chair, soaking in normality. Nearby, Uhura was giving poor Chekov a look that dripped icicles. Kirk himself still felt a little uncomfortable to find Sulu- the 'real' Sulu-at his elbow.
McCoy, however, evidently had not found it at all hard to readjust; his vast knowledge of psychology under stress also enabled him to understand himself. He said enthusi-astically to Spock, "When I came out of the beams, Spocko boy, I was so pleased to see you that I almost kissed you. Luckily, revulsion at the very notion set in two seconds later."
"I am grateful that it did," Spock said.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said, "Scotty tells me that had you not detected our counterparts immediately, restrained and questioned them, duplicated our calculations, and above all had them shoved into the transporter chamber all ready to make the exchange at the one precise moment, we'd have been stranded forever. I salute you; you have come through for the umpteenth time. But-how did you do it?"
"Sir," Spock said, "you know me as well as any man. But there are elements in my own heart that I do not show very readily. I had to call on them."
"Don't explain if you don't want to. But it would be useful to know how you managed it."
Spock raised his head and looked at some spot faraway in space.
"A civilized man," he said at last, "can easily play the part of a barbarian, as you all did in the other universe. He has only to look into his own soul for the remnants of the savage ancestors from which he sprang, and then-re-vert. But your counterparts, when we beamed them aboard, were savages to begin with-and had no core of civiliza-tion or humanity to which they could revert. The contrast was rather striking."
McCoy said, "Spock, could you have played the sav-age, if you'd been switched along with the rest of us?"
Very seriously, Spock said, "Dr. McCoy, I am a savage. Both here, and there. But some day, I hope to outgrow it."
FRIDAY'S CHILD
(D. C. Fontana)
Monday's child is fair of face.
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is loving and giving.
Thursday's child works hard for a living.
Friday's child is full of woe.
But the child that is born on the Sabbath Day
Is brave and bonny and good and gay.
(Harper's Weekly, 1887)
Even had Kirk not already known that Teer Akaar was High Chief of the ten tribes of Ceres, it would have been plain from the moment that he, Spock and McCoy materi-alized before the encampment that the Akaars were per-sons of consequence. Before each of the tents-which were on the edge of a brushy area-stood a pole bearing a family banner, and each of these was surmounted by another flag emblazoned with Akaar's tribal emblem, a flight of abstract birds.
A few tribesmen and women, wearing vividly colored robes cut in simple tunic style, stared in astonishment as the three from the Enterprise shimmered into existence out of nothing, and then silently ducked away into their own tents as another man stepped into view from the largest pavilion. This man's tunic was plain black, with the distinctive bird design embroidered on the shoulder. He seemed to be about forty-five, reed slim, tough as a leather quirt. Looking straight at Kirk, he put his right fist over his heart and then extended the hand out before him, palm up. The gesture was easy to read: My heart and all that I own are open to you.
"I am Maab, of the House of Akaar," he said. "Our tents are honored."
"You honor us," Kirk said. Thinking fast, he made a half-bow with both hands out before him, palms up, and then drew the hands to his chest. Your hospitality is accepted with open heart. It might not have been the right answer, but it seemed to do.
"The High Chief awaits your coming," Maab said, ges-turing toward the tent and then leading the way. They were friendly toward the Federation, but Klingon ships had been reported in this sector, and though technically the Federation and the Empire were at peace, there had been an increase in the number of incidents in the past month. It was vital that the mission to Ceres not become an incident.
There were two men, as well as a woman, inside the tent, but Maab's full, deep bow of total subservience instantly made evident whi
ch man was Teer Akaar, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late fifties, in a white robe with black birds. The ritual gestures were exchanged, and introductions made all around. Maab, it developed, was Teer Akaar's brother. The tall man in his late teens was Raal, the chief's son; and the kneeling young woman, who was quite lovely, was the chief's wife Eleen ("My second wife, and an honor to my house"). As Raal helped her to rise, it became clear that she was pregnant.
"Come," Akaar said, gesturing toward a table so low that it almost scraped the carpets. "I wish to hear your words about the rocks of the mountains."