Heart Of The Sun Star Trek 83

by George Zebrowski

  Spock stopped in front of one chamber, glanced down at his tricorder, then stepped inside. Sulu went in after him, followed by the others. This chamber’s low ceiling was studded with small pyramids, pentagons, and indiscernible solid shapes. Sulu felt almost as if he were inside the belly of a starfish.

  Spock said, “None of these interiors seems to have any obvious function.”

  “How do each of you feel right now?” Kirk asked.

  “Dizzy,” Warren said.

  “I’m dizzy, too,” Rand murmured, letting out a deep breath. “Also extremely nauseated.”

  Gorge rose in Sulu’s throat; he swallowed hard. He thought of the ailing crewmembers in McCoy’s sickbay and wondered if they had felt as sick as he did now.

  “Feel like I’m spinning,” Tekakwitha said.

  “Same here.” Sulu forced the words out. Suddenly he was imagining that the black and green colors would soon impress themselves permanently into his field of vision.

  “And I’m not feeling too good myself,” Kirk said. “I want all of us to sit down and close our eyes and not to move. That’s an order.”

  Sulu sat down, drew up his legs, and closed his eyes, waiting for his nausea to pass.

  * * *

  Spock, eyes still closed, listened to the breathing of his companions. Their inhalations had slowed, becoming deeper and more regular, so perhaps the worst of their symptoms had abated. He had not felt the dizziness of which the others had complained, but he did feel a tightness in his neck and back, along with a vague uneasiness. Those symptoms had not abated; it was possible that they might grow worse.

  “I’m feeling a little better,” Kirk said. “How about the rest of you?”

  “Better,” Warren’s voice said.

  “I could probably stand up now without losing my lunch,” Sulu said.

  “Everyone, up slowly,” Kirk said.

  Spock opened his eyes and stood up, then helped Ensign Tekakwitha to her feet. “I’m all right,” she said, but her coppery skin still looked sallow. He let go of her arm, then took out his tricorder and studied what it had caught for a few moments. There was no doubt about it; now that he had a chance to look at the readings more closely, a pattern of sorts could be discerned.

  “Captain,” Spock said, “my tricorder readings now show something of a pattern. Once it has established a direction that will lead us to the life-forms, and we follow it, that direction abruptly changes. Now the direction to those life-forms seems to lie behind us, across the area we have already explored.”

  “Odd,” Kirk said.

  Wellesley Warren moved closer to Spock. “Maybe a protective mechanism is at work,” the Tyrtaean said, “one that’s meant to misdirect intruders.”

  Spock was intrigued by the speculative comment. “Why would such a mechanism be needed?” he asked.

  “Perhaps because the life-forms are in some way incapacitated,” Warren replied, “at least for now. After all, this worldlet seems to have become operational again only recently.”

  “That’s been my suspicion for a while now,” Kirk said. “Everything seems to point to their inability to function properly.”

  “I think we may be assuming too much,” Tekakwitha said. “We have no direct evidence for any misdirecting mechanism. There may be something else, something automatic, that’s causing our tricorders to read life-forms where there are none. Thinking they might be hiding, that they’re incapacitated—we’re attributing motivations to something that may be much more alien than we realize.” She waved an arm. “Look at this alien architecture! No humanoid could dream up anything like this!” Her skin looked even more yellow, and she was swaying slightly from side to side.

  “Unless they deliberately want humanoid life forms to become uneasy,” Warren said, “so they won’t stay. Maybe humanoids are a type they find especially threatening. Maybe—”

  “We don’t have time to settle the issue,” Kirk said, “or to find out anything about them, before their world goes into the sun.”

  “Surely they must be aware of their problem by now,” Rand said.

  “If they’re not, in fact, completely incapacitated,” Warren added. “If they’re here at all, for that matter. This may be an empty shell.”

  “Maybe they know they’re headed directly into the sun,” Kirk said, “and simply don’t care.”

  Spock considered the implications of that statement, that the alien life-forms might be bent upon self-destruction, then turned his attention to the present problem. “The question now,” he said, “is whether we are all sufficiently recovered to continue exploration.” They all looked unsteady to him.

  “Spock, how are you holding up?” Kirk asked.

  He looked up from his tricorder. “Adequately, Captain. However, it appears that my reaction time has decreased slightly, and there is an increase in the tightness of the muscles in my shoulders and my neck. The tricorder readings do suggest that something is dampening our synaptic reactions.” But he reminded himself that if this were true, it would make all their speculations and conjectures doubly suspect; yet the dampening itself would nevertheless support the suspicion of a mental assault. It was circular reasoning, something he always avoided, but in this case, as in others, he had found that suspicions were not to be discounted.

  “Spock, we need more data,” the captain said. “Since you seem less affected than the rest of us, I want you to gather what data you can. After that, I think we had all better leave, since it seems unlikely that well find either the life-forms or the control center in time to divert the mobile’s course.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Spock gazed at his tricorder again. It would be a pity if the chance to learn more about this mobile and its alien creators were lost.

  * * *

  Lieutenant Commander Scott was in engineering, having left Uhura in charge of the bridge. He had intended to run a few standard maintenance checks, having not had much opportunity to check the system over thoroughly while on the surface of Tyrtaeus II. Nothing very important in the checks he and his crew were running; they were the equivalent of polishing the surface of a beloved shuttlecraft, a routine task that had to be done from time to time, for the welfare of the caretaker’s soul if nothing else.

  Lieutenant Tristram Lund came and stood next to him; the blond man pressed his fingers to one panel. “Everything’s working just fine,” Lund said.

  “Aye, laddie,” Scotty said, having expected no less of his engines. “Might as well do some more sensor scans of that asteroid, then. The science officers can always use more data.”

  It had not escaped Scott from the start that the mobile possessed an advanced drive system that somehow did not reveal more than the impulse principle—not yet, anyway. He was curious to see if he could discover whether it had any interstellar capacity, or was merely a relativistic vessel.

  Suddenly his instruments were showing him that the mobile’s drive system was capable of something more. Scotty peered at the readings, glanced at the nearest viewscreen, then gazed at his instruments again.

  “Will you look at that,” Lieutenant Lund muttered at Scotty’s right, but the chief engineer had seen what the instruments were telling him even before he spoke. The mobile’s drive system was suddenly casting a powerful field around the asteroid, a field more powerful than any use he could imagine for such a vehicle. As he started to scan the field’s structure, it abruptly winked off.

  “Well,” Scotty said, “it doesn’t need that much protection for space travel.” He hit his console’s communicator panel. “Engineering to bridge. Were you scanning that alien thing just now?”

  “We saw it,” Uhura’s voice replied.

  “Massoud here,” Ali Massoud said. “That field might come up again. It might be a good idea to get that landing party out of there, and fast.”

  “Just what I was thinking,” Scotty replied. “Uhura, open an emergency hailing frequency to the captain.”

  “Done, Mr. Scott.”

&nb
sp; “Enterprise to Captain Kirk. Captain!”

  “Kirk here.” The captain’s voice seemed faint.

  “Scott here. I’d advise all of you to beam out right away. A strong field of some kind just went on and off around that alien thingee, without any warning at all. It might trap you inside if it comes on again. Did you notice anything from in there?”

  “Nothing,” Kirk replied. “We can’t accomplish anything more here, anyway. Preparing to beam aboard. Kirk out.”

  Scotty turned back to his instruments, watching to make sure that the team was beamed back safely. He held his breath, afraid that the field might wink on again. Something about the way it had come on and off had reminded him of automatic equipment being tested, as if the alien vessel was preparing for some important action.

  “Survey team aboard,” the voice of Kyle announced over the intercom, but Scotty already knew that from his instruments. He stared at the sensor readings, wondering what the alien might do now, but the field failed to come on again. He shook his head in puzzlement.

  “Lund,” he said to the lieutenant, “take charge here. I’m going up to the bridge.”

  * * *

  Kirk was sitting in his chair when Scott reached the bridge. Spock was with Ali Massoud and Myra Coles, reviewing the sensor scan records; Wellesley Warren and Cathe Tekakwitha stood with Uhura. Lieutenant Riley had remained on duty as navigator, while Sulu and Rand were conferring with the captain.

  “Captain,” Scotty said as he came up to Kirk’s station, “that thingee out there seems determined to head right into the sun. Did you find anything inside that might help prevent it?”

  Kirk shook his head. “Nothing. We couldn’t have stayed there much longer. It was too—disorienting.”

  “To put it mildly,” Sulu added. “Amazing how much better we started to feel as soon as we were back aboard.”

  “Permission to speak, Captain,” Myra Coles said. Scotty turned toward the woman, noting that she continued to adhere to Starfleet form of address, although she seemed to resent the formality. Bonny lass that she was, she could also be as prickly as a patch of briars. She was used to being a leader, he supposed, and it had to be hard for her to bow to someone else’s authority.

  “Permission granted,” Kirk replied, sounding annoyed.

  Coles said, “What especially worries me now is that if that field comes on again as strongly as we measured it, and the alien asteroid does strike the sun, the field-effect might either diminish or increase our star’s output.”

  Scotty nodded grimly. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  “It might not affect it for long,” Coles went on, “but it could be long enough for the people of my world to face some very unpleasant climatic changes.”

  “What do you think of that, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked.

  “I agree with Miss Coles. I recommend that the object be diverted from its course right away, when it will not take much of an angle to divert it. Trying to do so even several hours from now will present many more difficulties.”

  “But we don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Janice Rand objected.

  “Quite right, Yeoman Rand,” Spock said, “which makes it all the more imperative that we start doing what we can immediately, so that we can determine what we will be permitted to do.”

  “Permitted?” Myra Coles asked.

  “Aye, permitted,” Scotty responded. “Lassie, we’re dealing with intelligence that won’t show itself.”

  She gave him an annoyed look.

  “And also with systems that appear savvy enough,” Sulu added, “to deal with our efforts.”

  “Spock?” Kirk said.

  “We will learn more by seeing what we can do,” the Vulcan said. “And, given the possible effect that the alien worldlet might have on this system’s star, we should act immediately.”

  Kirk stood up. “Well then, let’s take a direct approach, by strapping impulse boosters on the outside of the asteroid and changing its course.”

  “Aye,” Scotty said. “Just what I was about to recommend.”

  “And once we’ve diverted it,” Kirk continued, “we can spend more time investigating it.”

  “Let’s consider what is going on here,” Myra Coles said, moving away from Ali Massoud and closer to Wellesley Warren. “We were to investigate this object. Now we have to divert it from its course.” She glanced at the other Tyrtaean for moral support. “Captain, is it possible that you might have caused this problem by disturbing the alien artifact?”

  “Wait, now,” Scotty cut in, “that’s hardly fair, lassie. We all wanted to explore that thing.” She gave him another hostile look.

  “The unknown always has risks,” Sulu said.

  “And I must remind you,” Kirk said, “that you and Aristocles Marcelli insisted that Tyrtaeans be part of this investigation, not to direct it.”

  Coles’s gray eyes flashed. “Yes, Captain. But I also advised against going inside the worldlet. How do you know that your entering it didn’t somehow cause that field to come on? Your actions might be partly responsible for the danger of the field-effect to our sun.”

  “Myra,” Warren said in a low voice, “accusations aren’t going to do us any good now. That field might have come on anyway.” She shot an angry look at her aide. He continued, “If you’d seen how strange it was inside, how alien—” He paused. “I wonder if anything we’ve done has affected it, if we can actually affect it at all.”

  Kirk held up a hand. “I have ordered that we divert the object, Miss Coles. Do you have an alternative course of action to recommend?”

  She was silent for a few moments. Scotty felt the tension on the bridge. The captain was keeping himself admirably calm, all things considered, but he would expect no less of Jim Kirk.

  “Perhaps,” Myra Coles said at last, “we should all just go away and leave this thing alone.”

  “In the hope that it will stop whatever it’s doing?” Kirk’s voice was sharper this time.

  “That would hardly seem the wisest course of action,” Spock added gently.

  “If it does stop then, if it does change course, it’ll prove I was right. If there’s intelligence there, it won’t go into the sun. It will save itself.”

  Kirk said, “And if it doesn’t, we’ll lose all chance of investigating it further, as well as risking its field coming on again and possibly affecting your sun.” He drew his brows together. “You’ve offered your opinion, Miss Coles. I choose to reject your advice. I am now going to plan the details of how to divert the worldlet with Lieutenant Commander Scott and Commander Spock. Remain here with Mr. Massoud if you like, doing what you can to assist him, or go to your quarters if you prefer. But do not interfere with my orders, or I will be forced to confine you to quarters and then return you to your planet—and that will delay us even more. Time is growing short.”

  Myra Coles’s face paled. Scotty expected her to storm off the bridge. He almost hoped that she would; then the captain could proceed without any more of her meddling.

  “Captain,” Warren said then, “we’ve all been under pressure. I think we all have legitimate fears about the asteroid, whether we’re willing to admit to them or not.”

  Kirk gazed directly at Coles. “I meant what I said,” he murmured. “You agreed to accept my authority when you came aboard. Either make yourself useful here or return to your quarters.”

  She lowered her eyes, having the grace to look chagrined. “I’ll remain on the bridge for now,’ she murmured. “I’m sorry, Captain. I won’t interfere.”

  Kirk said, “Now, let’s get down to deciding exactly how to keep that thing from immolating itself.”

  That was more like it, Scotty thought with relief.

  Chapter Six

  KIRK LEANED FORWARD and watched the shuttlecraft on the bridge viewscreen approaching the alien asteroid. The craft was on automatic; it came close and released one impulse booster pack. The cylindrical pack, ten meters long, propelled it
self toward the pitted rocky surface. When it was parallel and six meters away, two harpoons suddenly shot out from the cylinder and embedded themselves in the crust; then the impulse booster reeled itself in until it was resting against the surface.

  “So far, so good,” Kirk heard Sulu say. The helmsman was back at his station, sitting at the left of Lieutenant Riley.

  “Engineering to bridge,” Scott’s voice said over the communicator. “We’re ready for a one-degree deflection from the asteroid’s present course. Routine, Captain.”

  “Very good, Scotty.” Kirk sat back in his chair. Myra Coles and Wellesley Warren stood at his right, both staring intently at the screen.

  “Once the worldlet is moving in a harmless orbit around the sun,” Kirk said, “we can explore it in our own good time.”

  “All of us?” Myra Coles asked. “Or only Starfleet personnel?”

  Kirk took a breath, refusing to rise to the bait. In spite of the courses he had taken in diplomacy, it was getting increasingly harder to control his exasperation with the woman. In irritating situations like this, it sometimes helped him to pretend he was Spock.

  “I agreed earlier that you should help us explore this object,” Kirk said slowly. “I see no reason to change my mind now unless you impede us in some manner.” He paused. “At any rate, if all goes well, you and your people will be free to explore the object at leisure. My crew and I may have a chance only to scratch the surface, so to speak.”

  “You’d learn enough to tell us whether further exploration is of any practical use,” Myra Coles murmured, “and if it isn’t, we may not ever be given a chance to mount our own expedition. Some may think it a waste of our resources.” A look of regret passed over her face.

  “We’re ready, Captain,” Scotty said from engineering.

  “Proceed,” Kirk ordered.

  Everyone on the bridge was silent as the impulse booster gave its brief push. It was over in an instant, with little to see on the screen. A very small change in the object’s velocity, either slowing or increasing its speed, would be enough to change its orbit into a wide swing around the sun. Odd, Kirk thought, sensing the tension in the silence; it was as if everyone on the bridge were expecting something to go wrong. He felt that way himself, and wondered why. Maybe he and the others who had gone inside the alien asteroid had not yet recovered from the disorienting experience.