by James Blish
"This is your training harness. Put it on."
Spock, with Ensign Haines beside him, was working on his scanners, but the eyes of the other bridge people were fixed on the main viewing screen, their faces taut with anxiety.
McCoy moved impatiently. "This is ridiculous! There's nothing out there—nothing at all!"
Scott nodded his agreement. "We're certainly heading into an empty sector."
Spock looked up. "Projecting back along the path of ionization, the nearest system is M24 Alpha."
"But that must be two dozen light years from here!" Scott cried.
"Eleven point six three zero, Mr. Scott."
"Spock, are you suggesting that they have been transported over a distance of—?" And sputtering in angry protest, said, "You're out of your Vulcan mind, Spock!"
"I am suggesting nothing, Doctor. I am following the only logical course available to us."
McCoy was not calmed but began to stride nervously around the bridge stations.
"This is the staff," Shahna said. "It can defend or attack."
It looked as though it could, its one end sharpened to a cutting edge, the other one hooked. Like Chekov and Uhura, Kirk said nothing, aware, however, that Lars and Tamoon were standing nearby on one of the gaming board shapes.
"I demonstrate," Shahna announced. "Lars."
As Lars moved toward her, holding a staff of his own, she spoke to the three strangers. "I shall attack. An attacker may use only the dark areas of the board, the defender only the light areas."
Positioned on the gaming board, the two instructors went through a brief show of quarterstaff technique, of expert lunging and pike work. Then Shahna said, "We stop now. Your Drill Thralls will begin your training."
"Hold!"
It was Galt's cold voice. By a means none of the Enterprise officers could detect, the Master Thrall had suddenly popped into the central triangle, another Thrall, hands manacled, beside him.
Galt was pleased to explain. "This one was slow to obey a command. For his punishment, he will be target Thrall." And ignoring the shock on the trainees' faces, said, "You will charge from here, striking the target Thrall as you pass. Uhura, begin."
Staring at her victim in horror, Uhura dazedly accepted the staff Lars handed her. Then full realization flooding her, she cried, "No! No! No!"
Gait's face was glacial. "It is not allowed to refuse a training exercise. Begin!"
"I don't care whether it's allowed or not! I won't do it!" And, in a fury, Uhura threw down her staff.
Very quietly, Kirk said, "None of us will do it, Galt."
Sparkle came into Gait's eyes—a glitter that reminded Kirk of the shine of snow under sun. "It is part of your training. The Providers wish it."
"The devil with the Providers!" Kirk shouted, hearing Chekov beside him mutter, "Cossacks!"
There was a pregnant pause before Galt closed his eyes—and the gems on their slave collars began to glow. The agony forced them to their knees. Then the glow faded as Galt opened his eyes. And once more there was the struggle to recover their feet.
"We have been tolerant because you are newcomers," Galt said. '''But I see you must be taught a lesson." He clapped his hands sharply, and two other Thralls quickly strode from the sidelines, released their manacled fellow, all three moving away as Galt called, "Kloog!"
The hunched ape-man appeared, armed with a wide, hooked net, a dagger and a short whip. Crossing to the triangle, he faced Galt, waiting expectantly.
The Enterprise officers exchanged appalled glances, but the oblivious Galt merely said, "Kloog will administer correction. Uhura, take your place on that rectangle. Lars, tie her!"
She gave Kirk a frightened look and was starting forward when he swiftly interposed himself in front of her.
"I am responsible for the actions of my people! I demand to see the Providers!"
"That is not permitted."
Controlling the hot rage surging in him, Kirk said, "I know your Providers possess great power, but I assure you that it doesn't match the power of the entire Federation. There is a Starship searching for us now. If we're killed, you will invite the vengeance, not of one Starship, but a fleet of them."
"The Providers know of your Starfleet, Captain. And since you assume responsibility for your people, you will take the punishment." Galt smiled slightly. "If I may say so, you are rash, Captain. However, this punishment will be less painful than the collar. Turn around."
For a moment, Kirk hesitated. Then he obeyed, and Galt, still smiling, snapped manacles on him.
"You, Captain, will be target Thrall."
Well, he'd asked for it, so now he had it. Moving slowly but alertly onto the board, he paused a few feet from Kloog, half-crouched, watching the creature warily.
Galt spoke. "It's a shame to lose you, Captain. But it's worth it as an example to the others."
It was an example of insane brutality. Kloog, expert with the hooked net, lunged suddenly at the hand-bound Kirk who dodged the mesh just in time to avoid snare in it; but before he could recover himself, Kloog slashed him across the chest with his whip. Kirk, staggering backward, didn't hear Uhura's gasp of horror nor did he see Lars push back the onrushing Chekov with his spear. Fighting, he knew, for his life, he was totally concentrated on eluding the perilous net.
It lifted for another downsweep, and again Kirk ducked from under it, one of its hooks ripping his arm. Once more, whirling and crouching, the pattern of the unequal contest continued, Kirk circling, dodging as Kloog, bearing in on him, gave him not a moment's respite. He was sweating now, his legs shaking with exhaustion when Galt called, "Hold!"
Head sagging, Kirk heard him add, "Rest interval. Fifteen trisecs."
Kloog lowered his weapons, dropping down cross-legged on the floor while Kirk, staggering to a nearby bench, collapsed on it. Vaguely, he was aware that Shahna had appeared beside him, and had placed a slim-necked flagon to his lips.
"This will strengthen you. Drink it."
He swallowed ravenously, some of the liquid spilling down his cut chest. Gradually, as his breathing became normal, he said, "Thanks. He's pretty fast with that whip."
"It is the net you must watch. Once you are caught in it, he will use the dagger—to finish."
He nodded; and Shahna, giving a swift glance in Gait's direction, quickly whispered, "Kloog's left eye is weak. Approach him from that side."
Startled by this unexpected concern, Kirk watched her run back to her place on the sidelines; but there was no time for reflection on its meaning, for Galt had called, "Resume places!"
However, the watchful dodging and ducking had become more confident now. As Kloog, his net and whip retrieved, turned slowly to face him, Kirk darted abruptly to the right, reversed and angled in on his opponent's left. Kloog lashed out with the whip, connecting viciously with Kirk's cheek; but he, catching the thong with a foot, jerked it from him. The net rose high for the throw. Ready for it, Kirk flung himself to the floor and, rolling, sprang up to butt Kloog in the midriff with his head. Then, swiftly, he twisted away from the net, and kicking at Kloog with both feet, felled him.
A new voice, loud and shrill, cried, "Hold!"
All the Triskelions, Galt and the Thralls, knelt, their heads bowed humbly in the direction of a blank rear wall.
"We hold, Provider One," Galt said obsequiously.
Kirk joined Chekov and Uhura, the three trying to locate the owner of the voice when it spoke again. "Provider One bids three hundred quatloos for the newcomers."
A deeper voice cried, "Provider Two bids three hundred and fifty quatloos!"
Then another one chimed in, all the disembodied voices sounding from the various walls. "Provider Three, four hundred!"
Once more the Enterprise officers glanced vainly around to detect some other source for the mysterious voices, the walls alone confronting them.
"Provider Two bids one thousand quatloos!"
"Provider Three says one thousand and fifty quatloos
!"
It was the turn of Provider One again. "Two thousand!"
Immediately the bidding quieted. And Galt, bowing deferentially, said, "Two thousand quatloos are bid. Is there another challenge?"
The walls remained silent; and after a pause, Galt made his announcement. "The newcomers have been vended to Provider One."
Kirk spoke sharply. "We are free people. We belong to no one!"
Provider Two was pleased to approve the statement. "Such spirit! I wager fifteen quatloos that he is untrainable!"
If Kirk was spirited, so was the competitiveness of the invisible Providers. "Twenty quatloos that all three are untrainable!"
"Wagers accepted," shrilled Provider One.
Whereupon bedlam burst out from the walls, the voices overwhelming each other in their excitement to register bets on their new Thralls' trainability. The sums of offered quatloos mounted wildly until the clamor was finally stilled by the shout, "Provider Three wagers five thousand quatloos that the newcomers will have to be destroyed!"
The high, effeminate voice of Provider One shrieked, "Accepted! Mark them, Galt!"
The gems on their collars went orange.
"You now bear the mark of a fine herd," Galt said. "But I must warn you. Now that you are full-fledged Thralls, any further disobedience will be punishable by death."
The bridge's unpromising viewing screen had raised Scott's anxiety to such a pitch that he couldn't contain it. Marching purposely over to Spock, he said, "Mr. Spock, listen to me! It just doesn't make sense they could have come this far! If there's any chance at all, it's to continue to search the area where they were lost!"
Self-possessed, inscrutable, Spock said, "We searched that area, Mr. Scott."
"It's always possible to miss something!"
"Such as a failure in the Transporter mechanism?"
"No, sir. There's no sign of any failure."
"And there was no sign of them in the area of Gamma II."
McCoy broke in. "And if they weren't there, it's just ridiculous to believe they could still be alive—not after all this time!"
"In that case, Doctor, we have nothing to lose in pursuing our present course."
Quarterstaff practice had begun on the gaming board, Lars attacking, Uhura defending. As they moved away to a rhomboid, Chekov, holding a spear, was clumsily warding off Tamoon's attack.
"You must be fast, Chee-koof. Again, parry, parry. Thrust."
Anger flared in him. He swung the staff around, aiming its bladed end at a metal disk on her shoulder. It punctured the thing, and Tamoon drew back, delighted.
"That is good," she told him. "Soon you will be ready for the games. Why does that not please you, Chee-koof?"
"Chekov. The only thing that would please me is to return to the ship. How did they get us here? Where is their power, Tamoon?"
"It is not permitted to discuss." She hesitated. "Tell me of this ship. What is there so pleasing? Your Provider? Does he care for you better?"
"I have no Provider. Earthpeople take care of themselves."
She stared at him. "Care for themselves? But that is not safe! Many things can happen! You must never return there, Chee-koof. It is not safe at all!"
Meanwhile, Shahna, laboring under the belief that Kirk's legs required exercise, had been leading him at a brisk trot through a field; and they were still trotting as they emerged from a clump of trees, side by side.
Slightly breathless, Kirk said, "We've covered over two miles. Isn't that enough? How about a breather?" And at her blank look, interpreted. "A rest."
"Oh . . . very well—if you are tired."
Kirk dropped down on the stone pediment of a ruined building; and after a pause, Shahna joined him.
Inhaling deeply, he said, "It was good to get away from that training area—even for a little while. Why do they like it, the Providers? Why do they want to watch others hurt, killed?"
The dark lashes lowered over the sapphire eyes. "It is the way."
"The voices sounded mechanical. Are they computers?"
The lashes lifted. "Computers?"
He answered his own question with another one, saying to himself, "But why, why would computers keep slaves? Shahna, have you ever seen them? Do they have bodies?"
"Not such as ours."
He looked off at the rubble of ruins at the edge of the trees. "What is that place, Shahna?"
"It is not used."
"Doesn't it have a name? It's very old. Probably built by humanoid people. Shahna, could this once have been a city of the Providers?"
Her voice shook. "I do not think it is well to ask such things."
"They have bodies," he said, "like ours . . . or they had."
She spoke firmly, almost angrily, "One does not talk of such things!"
"I see." And regretting the discomfort he'd caused her, changed the subject. "Pretty country. Looks very much like Earth."
As all he got was another blank look, he explained. "My home planet—where I was born."
"Planet?"
Well, he thought, I can instruct too. "Have you never looked at the night sky, Shahna? The lights up there?"
"Oh, those," she said. "I have looked at them."
"They're stars. And around them are planets—places . . . many of them like this—with people just like us living on them."
She was staring again. "How can one live on a flicker of light?"
He smiled at her. "From Earth, Triskelion's two suns seem only a flicker of light." Then sobering, he said, "Actually, this is the darkest planet I've ever seen."
"Dark? Why, all is lighted! Here . . . the chambers . . ."
"Dark," he insisted. "Thralls have no freedom, Shahna. You can't think or do anything but what your Providers tell you."
"What else would one do?"
She was beautiful, and her ignorance added a quality of pathos to the beauty.
"Love, for one thing," he said.
"What is love?"
He was tempted to kiss her, but refraining, said, "On Earth, it's more important than anything else, especially between a man and a woman."
Comprehension flooded her face. "Oh, we, too, have mates. When it is time to increase the herd, my Provider will select one for me."
"On Earth, we select our own mates. Somebody we care for, love. Men and women spend their lives together—sharing things . . . making each other happy."
Flushing, she whispered, "I do not think your words are allowed."
"All right. But tell me about the Providers. Where do they live? What do they look like?"
"I have never seen them, but they are said not to be like us. They stay in—"
Suddenly, the light on her collar went into glow. Shahna gasped. Kirk leaped to his feet, and looking up at him, she just managed to whisper, "I—I have . . . spoken . . . of the . . . forbidden. I must . . . be—"
She was choking with her agony. Going to her, Kirk stood beside her in his own agony of indecision, unable to help but only to watch her slip off the pediment and sink to the ground, writhing, strangling.
He glared around him. "Stop! I did it! I made her talk!" Then his voice rose to a scream. "Stop it, I tell you! You're killing her!"
But the jewel on the collar only glowed brighter. Shahna's face darkened with the uprush of blood, her mouth opening, her clawing hands falling away from the collar. Kirk whirled to the cliff above the gaming area, shaking his clenched fist at it. "Stop it!" he shouted again. "She did nothing wrong! It was my fault. If you want to punish someone, punish me! Please, please . . ."
He was half-aware of a strange rustling sound like electronic laughter. Then the light on Shahna's collar winked out. As he fell on his knees beside her, a voice spoke, the high, semi-soprano voice of Provider One.
"Is that what you humans call compassion? It is interesting, but it has no value here. You present many interesting aspects, Captain. But you must learn obedience. Then you will be an excellent Thrall."
Shahna had relaxed, her
lungs sucking in great gulps of air. Released from her near-fatal agony, she began to sob. Kirk took her gently into his arms.
"I know," he said. "It's all right. You're safe now here in my arms—perfectly safe. Stop crying."
She leaned her head on his shoulder, the sobs quieting. Then looking up at him wonderingly, she said, "You risked bringing their anger on yourself. Why—why did you do it?"
He held her closer. "It's the custom for Earth people to help each other when they're in trouble."
He'd known it was coming, and it came—the moment of magic between them when the mysterious shuttle moves between a man and a woman, weaving, interweaving them together in the nameless bond.
He turned her face to his and kissed her.
She drew back, startled. Then while the sapphire eyes searched his, she lifted a finger and touched his lips with it softly. "And that—was that also helping?"
Smiling, he kissed the finger. "I suppose you could call it that."
Her eyes were shining. "Please . . . help me once again."
This time the kiss grew deep, complete, and her arms lifted, to go slowly around his neck. As he brushed his cheek against one, she withdrew them.
"I—I did not know it could be like this between people. Is it always so in the place you come from?"
He said, "It always should be like this for you, Shahna."
The rustle of high laughter echoed again, and Galt was abruptly with them. Silently, Kirk released the girl.
"Captain, you do indeed present many surprises. Because you have amused the Providers, there will be no punishment. Return to your quarters."
Kirk spoke softly to Shahna. "Come, we'll go together."
In the bridge command chair, Spock turned his head to the corner where Scott and McCoy were whispering together.
"Mr. Scott."
Scott started guiltily. "Yes, sir."
"Are you unable to manage anything faster than Warp Six?"
Scott moved to the command chair. "It's my opinion, sir, that we've come much too far as it is."
McCoy joined them to add his support to Scott's opinion. "He's right, Spock. We lost Jim and the others back at Gamma II. You've dragged us a dozen light years out here on some wild hunch that—"