Star Trek 07

by James Blish

  The glowing swirl of sparkle that was the Transporter effect died, and Nomad was there, a dull metallic cylinder, resting in a horizontal position on the floor of the chamber. It was motionless, silent, and a little absurd. There were seams on its sides, indicating possible openings, but there were no visible ports or sensors.

  Spock moved to a scanning station, then shook his head. "No sensor readings, Captain. It has some sort of screen which protects it. I cannot get through."

  There was a moment's silence. Then McCoy said: "What do we do now? Go up and knock?"

  As if in answer, the flat inflectionless voice of Nomad spoke again, now through the ship's intercom system. "Relate your point of origin."

  Kirk said, "We are from the United Federation of Planets."

  "Insufficient response. All things have a point of origin. I will scan your star charts."

  Kirk thought about this for a moment, then turned to Spock. "We can show it as a closeup of our system. As long as it has nothing to relate to, it won't know anything more important than it does now."

  "It seems a reasonable course," Spock said.

  "Nomad," Kirk told the cylinder, "If you would like to leave your ship, we can provide the necessary life-support systems."

  "Non sequitur. Your facts remain uncoordinated."

  "Jim," said McCoy, "I don't believe there's anyone in there."

  "I contain no parasitical beings. I am Nomad."

  "Och, it's a machine!" Scott said, brightening.

  "Opinion, Mr, Spock?"

  "Indeed, Captain, it is reacting quite like a highly sophisticated computer."

  "I am Nomad. What is 'opinion'?"

  "Opinion," Spock said, "is a belief, view or judgment."

  "Insufficient response."

  "What's your source of power?" Scott said.

  "It has changed since the point of origin. There was much taken from the other. Now I focus cosmic radiation, and am perpetual."

  Kirk drew Spock aside and spoke in a low voice. "Wasn't there a probe called Nomad launched from Earth back in the early two thousands?"

  "Yes. It was reported destroyed. There were no more in the series. But if this is that probe—"

  "I will scan your star charts now," Nomad said.

  "We'll bring them."

  "I have the capability of movement within your ship."

  After a moment's hesitation, Kirk said, "This way. Scotty, get our shields recharged as soon as possible. Spock, Bones, come with me."

  He led the way to the auxiliary control room, Nomad floating after him. The group considerably startled a crewman who was working there.

  Spock crossed to the console. "Chart fourteen A, sir?"

  Kirk nodded. The First Officer touched buttons quickly, and a view-screen lit up, showing a schematic chart of Earth's solar system—not, of course, to scale.

  "Nomad," Kirk said, "can you scan this?"

  "Yes."

  "This is our point of origin. A star we know as Sol."

  "You are from the third planet?"

  "Yes."

  "A planet with one large natural satellite?"

  "Yes."

  "The planet is called Earth?"

  "Yes it is," Kirk said, puzzled.

  An antenna slid from the side of the cylinder, swiveled, and centered upon him. He eyed it warily.

  "Then," said Nomad,, "you are the Creator—the Kirk. The sterilization procedure against your ship was a profound error."

  "What sterilization procedure?"

  "You know. You are the Kirk—the Creator. You programmed my function."

  "Well, I'm not the Kirk," McCoy said. "Tell me what your function is."

  The antenna turned to center on the surgeon. "This is one of your units, Creator?"

  "Uh . . . yes, he is."

  "It functions irrationally."

  "Nevertheless, tell him your function."

  The antenna retracted. "I am sent to probe for biological infestations. I am to destroy that which is not perfect."

  Kirk turned to Spock, who was working at an extension of the library computer. "Biological infestations? There never was any probe sent out for that."

  "I am checking its history," Spock said. "I should have a read-out in a moment,"

  Kirk turned back to Nomad. "Did you destroy the Malurian system? And why?"

  "Clarify."

  "The system of this star, Omega Ceti."

  "Not the system, Creator Kirk, only the unstable biological infestation. It is my function."

  "Unstable manifestation!" McCoy said angrily. "The population of two planets!"

  "Doctor," Kirk said warningly. "Nomad, why do you call me Creator?"

  "Is the usage incorrect?"

  "The usage is correct," Spock put in quickly. "The Creator was simply testing your memory banks."

  What, Kirk wondered, was Spock on to now? Well, best keep silent and play along.

  "There was much damage in the accident," Nomad said.

  Kirk turned toward the crewman, who had been listening with growing amazement. "Mr. Singh, come over here, please. Mr. Spock, Doctor, go to the briefing room. Nomad, I will return shortly. This unit, called Singh, will see to your needs."

  There was no reaction from the cylinder. Kirk joined Spock and McCoy in the corridor. "Spock, you're on to something. What is it?"

  "A Nomad probe was launched from Earth in August of the year 2002, old calendar. I am convinced that this is the same probe."

  "Ridiculous," McCoy said. "Earth science couldn't begin to build anything with those capabilities that long ago."

  "Besides," Kirk added, "Nomad was destroyed."

  "Presumed destroyed by a meteor collision," Spock said. "I submit that it was badly damaged, but managed somehow to repair itself. But what is puzzling is that the original mission was a peaceful one." They had reached the briefing room, and the First Officer stepped aside to allow Kirk to precede him in. "The creator of Nomad was perhaps the most brilliant, though erratic, cyberneticist of his time. His dream was to make a perfect thinking machine, capable of independent logic. His name was Jackson Roykirk."

  Light dawned. "Oho," Kirk said.

  "Yes, Captain, I believe Nomad thinks you are Roykirk, and that may well be why the attack was broken off when you hailed it. It responded to your name, as well as its damaged memory banks permitted. While we were in Auxiliary Control, I programmed the computer to show a picture of the original Nomad on the screen here."

  Spock switched on the screen. On it appeared, not a photograph, but a sketch. The size and shape indicated were about the same as the present Nomad, but the design was somehow rougher.

  "But that's not the same," McCoy said.

  "Essentially it is, Doctor. But I believe more happened to it than just damage in the meteor collision. It mentioned 'the other'. The other what is still an unanswered question. Nomad was a thinking machine, the best that could be engineered. It was a prototype. However, the entire program was highly controversial. It had many powerful enemies in the confused and inefficient Earth culture of that time. When Jackson Roykirk died, the Nomad program died with him."

  "But if it's Nomad," Kirk said, "what happened to alter its shape?"

  "I think it somehow repaired the damage it sustained."

  "Its purpose must have been altered. The directive to seek out and destroy biological infestations couldn't have been programmed into it."

  "As I recall, it wasn't," McCoy said. "Seems to me it was supposed to be the first interstellar probe to seek out new life-forms—only."

  "Precisely, Doctor," Spock said. "And somehow that programming has been changed. It would seem that Nomad is now seeking out perfect life-forms . . . perfection being measured by its own relentless logic."

  "If what you say is true, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, "Nomad has effectively programmed itself to destroy all non-mechanical life."

  "Indeed, Captain. We have taken aboard our vessel a device which, sooner or later, must destroy us."
>
  "Bridge to Captain Kirk," said the intercom urgently.

  "Here, Scotty."

  "Sir, that mechanical beastie is up here on the bridge!"

  "On my way." Kirk tried to remember whether or not he, as the misidentified "Creator," had given Nomad a direct order to stay in the auxiliary control room. Evidently not.

  On the bridge Uhura, Scott and Sulu were on duty; Uhura had been singing softly to herself.

  "I always liked that song," Sulu said.

  As he spoke, the elevator doors opened, and Nomad emerged. It paused for a moment, antenna extended and swiveling, coming to rest at last on Uhura. It started towards her. (It was at this point that Scott had called for Kirk.)

  "What is the meaning of that?" Nomad said. "What form of communication?"

  Uhura stared; though she knew the device had been brought aboard, this was the first time she had actually seen it. "I don't know what you—oh, I was singing."

  "For what purpose is this singing?"

  "I don't know. Just because I felt like singing, felt like music."

  "What is music?"

  Uhura started to laugh—there was something inherently ludicrous about discussing music with a machine—but the laugh died quickly. "Music is a pleasant arrangement of musical tones—sound vibrations of various frequencies, purer than those used in normal speech, and with associated harmonics. It can be immensely more complex than what I was doing just then."

  "What is its purpose?"

  Uhura shrugged helplessly. "Just for enjoyment."

  "Insufficient response," said the machine. A pencil of light shot out from it, resting a spot of light on her forehead, between and slightly above the eyes. "Think about music."

  Uhura's face went completely blank. Scott lunged to his feet. "Lieutenant! Get away from that thing—"

  The elevator doors opened and Kirk, Spock and McCoy entered. "Scotty, look out—" Kirk shouted.

  Scott had already reached the machine and grabbed for it, as if to shove it out of the way. There was no movement or effect from the craft, but the engineer was picked up and flung with tremendous impact against the nearest bulkhead. Sulu leapt up to yank Uhura out of the beam of light.

  Kirk gestured toward Scott and McCoy strode to him quickly and knelt. Then he looked up. "He's dead, Jim."

  For a moment Kirk stood stunned and appalled.

  Then fury rose to free him from his paralysis. "Why did you kill him?" he asked Nomad grimly.

  "That unit touched my screens."

  "That unit was my chief engineer." He turned to Uhura. "Lieutenant, are you all right? . . . Lieutenant! . . . Dammit, Nomad, what did you do to her?"

  "This unit is defective. Its thinking was chaotic. Absorbing it unsettled my circuitry."

  "The unit is a woman," Spock said.

  "A mass of conflicting impulses."

  Kirk turned angrily away. "Take Mr. Scott below."

  "The Creator will effect repairs on the unit Scott?"

  "He's dead."

  "Insufficient response."

  "His biological functions have ceased." Kirk was only barely able to control his rage and sorrow.

  "If the Creator wishes," Nomad said emotionlessly, "I will repair the unit."

  Startled, Kirk looked at McCoy, who said, "There's nothing I can do, Jim. But if there's a chance, it'll have to be soon."

  "All right. Nomad, repair the unit."

  "I require tapes on the structure."

  Spock looked to McCoy. The surgeon said, "It'll need tapes on general anatomy, the central nervous system, one on the physiological structure of the brain. We'd better give it all the neurological studies we have. And tracings of Scotty's electro-encephalogram."

  Spock nodded and punched the commands into the library computer as McCoy called off the requirements. "Ready, Nomad."

  The device glided forward. A thin filament of wire extruded from it and touched a stud on the panel. Spock tripped a toggle and the computer whirred.

  Then it was over and the filament pulled back into Nomad. "An interesting structure. But, Creator, there are so few safeguards built in. It can break down from innumerable causes, and its self-maintenance systems are unreliable."

  "It serves me as it is, Nomad," Kirk said.

  "Very well, Creator. Where is the unit Scott now?"

  "Bones, take it to Sickbay." Kirk snapped a switch and said into his mike, "Security. Twenty-four hour two-man armed surveillance on Nomad. Pick it up in Sickbay." He turned to Spock. "Nomad is operating on some kind of energy. We've got to find out what it is and put a damper on it. Surely it can't be getting much cosmic radiation inside the Enterprise; we're well shielded. Let's feed in everything that's happened so far to the computer, and program for a hypothesis."

  "It seems the most reasonable course, Captain. But it won't be easy."

  "Easy or not, I want it done. Get on it, Mr. Spock. Then report to me in Sickbay."

  Scott's body lay upon the examination table, with Nomad hovering over it. McCoy and Nurse Christine Chapel stood beside it, while Kirk and the two Security guards stood near the wall. Nomad, antenna extended, was scanning the body and humming.

  The nurse looked toward the body-functions panel. "No reaction, Doctor."

  "Could have told you that without looking, Nurse."

  Suddenly, a tight appeared on the panel, and a dial began quivering. In time with its movements, there came a steady beeping sound, gradually picking up in speed and volume.

  Scott's eyes opened and he looked up at the amazed group, frowning. While he stared back, Spock joined the others. "What are the lot of you staring at?" Scott demanded.

  "I . . . don't . . . believe it," McCoy whispered.

  Scott looked around, and spotting Nomad, its antenna retracted now, he sat up in alarm. "What am I doing here? How did I—That thing did something to Lieutenant Uhura—"

  "She's being taken care of, Scotty," Kirk said.

  "But sir, it's dangerous! It—"

  "Take it easy, Scotty," McCoy said. "Now just lie down. I want to check you out."

  "The unit Scott is repaired," Nomad said. "It will function as before if your information to me was correct."

  "How about it, Bones? Can he go back to duty?"

  "If you don't mind, I'll check him out first A man isn't just a . . . a biological unit to be patched together."

  "What did it do to me?" Scott said.

  Suddenly, a wave of pure awe, as strong as any he had ever felt in his life, swept through Kirk. Back from the dead! Why, if—but he pushed speculation resolutely away for the time being. "Dr. McCoy will explain, Scotty."

  "Nurse Chapel," McCoy said, "I want him prepared for a full physical exam."

  "Yes, sir."

  Kirk crossed the examination room toward Sickbay proper, where Uhura now was. "Nomad, come here."

  The machine glided after him, followed by Spock and McCoy. Inside, the Communications Officer lay unmoving on a bed, in a hospital gown and covered by a blanket. She did not look at any of them.

  "Can you repair her, Nomad?" Kirk demanded.

  "No," said the machine.

  "But you were able to restore Scott, who had much more extensive damage."

  "That was simply physiological repair. This one's superficial knowledge banks have been, wiped clean."

  "Superficial? Be more specific."

  "She still remembers her life experiences, but her memory of how to express them, either logically or in the illogic called music, or to act on them, has been purged."

  "Captain, if that is correct," Spock said, "if her mind has not been damaged and the aphasia is that superficial, she could be taught again."

  "Bones?"

  "I'll get on it right away." McCoy swung on Nomad. "And despite the way you repaired Scotty, you ticking metal—"

  "Does the Creator wish Nomad to wait elsewhere?" Spock broke in quickly.

  "Yes. Guards! Nomad, you will go with these units. They will escort you to a waiting area.
Guards, take it to the top security cell in the brig."

  There was silence while the guards and the machine went out. Then Spock said, "I interrupted you, Doctor, because Nomad would not have understood your anger. Its technical skill is great but it seems to react violently to emotion, even so non-specific an emotion as the enjoyment of music. It almost qualifies as a life-form itself."

  Kirk glanced sharply at him. "It's all right to admire it, Mr. Spock, but remember it's a killer. We're going to have to handle it."

  "I agree, Captain. It is a remarkable construction; it may well be the most advanced machine in the known galaxy. Study of it—"

  "I intend to render it harmless, whatever it may take."

  "You mean destroy it, Captain?"

  "If it's necessary," Kirk said. "Get down to the brig with your equipment and run a full analysis of the mechanism. I want to know what makes that thing tick."

  "Yes, sir."

  The First Officer went out, and Kirk and McCoy returned to the examination room. Scott was still lying on the table. McCoy scanned the body functions panel slowly, and shook his head in disbelief.

  "He checks out fine," he said. "Everything's normal."

  "Then," Scott said, "can I get back to my engines, sir?"

  Kirk glanced at McCoy, who nodded. "All right, Scotty."

  "I hate to admit it," McCoy said as Scott swung off the table and left, "but Spock was right. Nomad is a remarkable machine."

  "Just remember it kills as effectively as it heals, Bones . . . if I'm called, I'll be down in the brig."

  The two Security guards, phasers in hand, stood outside the force-field door of the brig, which was on. Inside, Nomad floated, almost surrounded by an array of portable scanners, behind which was Spock, staring with disapproval at the machine. Nomad, its antenna out, "stared" back.

  One of the guards switched off the screen to allow Kirk to enter, then switched it on again. Kirk said, "What's the problem?"

  "I have been unable to convince Nomad to lower its screens for analysis. Without its cooperation, I can do nothing."

  Kirk studied the quietly humming machine. "Nomad, you will allow Spock to probe your memory banks and structure."

  "This Spock is also one of your biological units, Creator?"