Star Trek 07

by James Blish

"Kirok . . . Kirok . . ."

  McCoy stooped over Miramanee. "I need Nurse Chapel," he told Spock shortly. The Vulcan had his communicator ready. "Beam down Nurse Chapel with a supplementary surgical kit, Mr. Scott."

  Kirk tried to rise and was pushed gently back by McCoy. "Easy, Jim. Take it easy."

  "My wife . . . my wife—is she all right?"

  "Wife?" Spock looked at McCoy. "Hallucinations, Doctor?"

  "Jim . . ."

  "Miramanee," Kirk whispered. He looked at her face and closed his eyes.

  The Enterprise nurse rose from the Indian girl's crumpled body. She joined McCoy who was making a last diagnostic pass over Kirk's unmoving form. "He hasn't recognized us," she said.

  Spock was with Miramanee. "The nurse has given you medicine to ease the pain. Why were the people stoning you?"

  "Kirok did not know how to get back into the temple."

  "Naturally," Spock said. "He didn't come from there."

  She lifted her head. "He did. I saw him come out of the temple."

  Spock looked at her thoughtfully. Then he spoke to McCoy.

  "The Captain, Doctor?"

  "His brain is undamaged. Everything's functioning but his memory."

  "Can you help him?"

  "It will take time."

  "Time, Doctor, is the one thing we do not have." He spoke into his communicator. "Spock here. Mr. Sulu?"

  "Tracking report, sir. Sixty-five minutes to end of safety margin."

  "Report noted." He returned to Kirk. "Do you think he's strong enough for a Vulcan mind fusion, Doctor?"

  "We have no choice," McCoy said.

  Spock stooped to place a hand on each side of Kirk's head. He spoke very slowly, with repressed intensity, his eyes boring into Kirk's closed ones. "I am Spock," he said with great distinctness. "You are James Kirk. Our minds are moving toward each other, closer . . ." His face was strained with such concentration, he seemed to be in pain. "Closer, James Kirk . . . closer . . . closer . . ."

  Kirk moaned. "No . . . no . . . Miramanee . . ."

  Spock increased the pressure against Kirk's temples as he fought to reach the lost memory. He shut his eyes, all his powers centered on the struggle. "Closer, James Kirk, closer . . ."

  He gave a sudden hoarse cry of agony and Kirk's body galvanized. Spock was breathing heavily, his voice assuming the entranced tone of one possessed. "I am Kirok . . . I am the god of the metal tower." Spock's agonized voice deepened. "I am Kirok . . . I am Kiro—I am Kir—I am Spock! Spock!"

  He jerked his hands away from Kirk's temples, his face tortured. Kirk lay still, his eyes closed.

  "What's wrong?"

  "He—he is an extremely dynamic personality, Doctor."

  "So it didn't work," McCoy said hopelessly. He shook his head—and Kirk's eyes opened, full awareness in them.

  He sat up. "It did work. Thank you, Mr. Spock."

  "Captain, were you inside that obelisk?"

  "Yes. It seemed to be loaded with scientific equipment."

  "It's a huge deflecting mechanism, Captain. It is imperative that we get inside it at once."

  "The key may be in those symbols," Kirk said. "If we could only decipher them."

  "They are musical notes, Captain."

  "You mean entry can be gained by playing notes on some musical instrument?"

  "That's one method. Another would be placement of tonal qualities stated in a proper sequence."

  Kirk said, "Give me your communicator, Mr. Spock." He paused a moment. "Total control! Consonants and vowels. I must have hit the control accidentally when I contacted the ship to ask Scotty for beam-up!"

  "If you could remember your exact words, Captain . . ."

  "Let's see if I can. They were 'Kirk to Enterprise'. Then Scotty said, 'Aye, Captain' ".

  The carefully smoothed panel in the obelisk slid open. As Spock stepped into it with him, Kirk looked back at Miramanee. "Stay with her, Bones."

  The silence within the obelisk was absolute. As they examined the buttoned panel, Spock said, "From its position this button should activate the deflection mechanism."

  "Careful!" Kirk warned. "I hit one and the beam it emitted was what paralyzed my memory."

  "Probably an information beam activated out of sequence."

  "Look, Spock. Over there—the other side of the vault. More symbols; and like those on the outside of the tower. Can you read them?"

  Spock nodded. "I have an excellent eye for musical notes, Captain."

  "Then activate, Mr. Spock!"

  The Vulcan pressed three lower buttons in swift succession. Above them the wind-swept darkness was sliced by a wide streak of rainbow-colored flame that sprang from the tower's peak like a giant's sword blade. There was a screaming explosion that deafened them even in their underground insulation.

  "That was the sound of deflection impact, Captain. The asteroid has been diverted."

  Spock was right. They emerged from the obelisk into calm air, fresh but windless. The sky had lightened to pure blue.

  Kirk dropped to his knees beside Miramanee. "How is she, Bones?"

  "She was pregnant and there were bad internal injuries, Jim."

  "Will she live?"

  McCoy's face was his answer. Kirk swayed, fighting for control. Miramanee, her face bloodless under the high cheekbones he loved, opened her eyes and recognized him.

  "Kirok. It is—true. You are safe."

  "And so are your people," Kirk said.

  "I knew you would save them, my chief. We . . . we will live long and happily. I will. . . bear you many strong sons. And love you always."

  "And I will love you," he said. He kissed her; and she said weakly, "Each kiss is like the . . . the first. . ."

  Her voice failed on the last word. The hand on his fell away.

  He bent again to kiss the dead face.

  McCoy laid a hand on his shoulder.

  "It's over, Jim. But in our way we kept their peacefulness for them."

  METAMORPHOSIS

  (Gene L. Coon)

  * * *

  It was not often that the Enterprise needed the services of her shuttlecraft Galileo, for usually the Transporter served her purposes better; but this was one of those times. The Enterprise had been on other duty when the distress call had come from Epsilon Canaris III, well out of Transporter range, and not even the Enterprise could be in two places at once.

  Now, however, the Galileo was heading back for rendezvous with the mother ship, Kirk at the controls, Spock navigating. The shuttlecraft's passengers were Dr. McCoy and his patient, Assistant Federation Commissioner Nancy Hedford, a very beautiful woman in her early thirties, whose beauty was marred by an almost constant expression of sullenness. The expression did not belie her; she was not a particularly pleasant person to be around.

  "We have reached projected point three, Captain," Spock said. "Adjust to new course 201 mark 15."

  "Thank you, Mr. Spock . . . Doctor, how is she?"

  "No change."

  "Small thanks to the Starfleet," Nancy Hedford said.

  "Really, Commissioner," McCoy said, "you can't blame the Starfleet—"

  "I should have received the proper inoculation ahead of time."

  "Sukaro's disease is extremely rare, Commissioner. The chances of anyone contracting it are literally billions to one. How could we predict—"

  "I was sent to that planet to prevent a war, Doctor. Thanks to the inefficiency of the medical branch of the Starfleet I have been forced to leave before my job was done. How many millions of innocent people will die because of this so-called rare disease of mine?"

  Privately, Kirk was of the opinion that she was overestimating her own importance; her senior officer could probably handle the situation alone—or maybe even better. But it wouldn't do to say so. "Commissioner, I assure you, once we reach the Enterprise, with its medical facilities, we'll have you back on your feet in no time. You'll get back to your job."

  "And just how soon will we rendezvous
with this ship of yours, Captain?"

  "Four hours and twenty-one minutes."

  "Captain," Spock said. "The scanners are picking up some kind of small nebulosity ahead. It seems to be—yes, it is on a collision course."

  "It can hardly matter," Kirk said, "but we'll swerve for it anyhow."

  This, however, proved impossible to do. Every time Kirk changed the Galileo's course, the cloud did also. Soon it was within visual distance, a phosphorescent, twisting blob against the immensities of space.

  Spock checked the sensors. "It appears to be mostly ionized hydrogen, Captain. But I would say nevertheless that it is not a natural object. It is too dense, changes shape too rapidly, and there is a high degree of electrical activity."

  "Whatever it is, we're about to be right in the middle of it."

  He had scarcely spoken when the view ahead was completely masked by the glowing, shifting cloud. A moment later, the controls went dead. A quick check showed that communications were out, too.

  "Readings, Mr. Spock?"

  "Extremely complex patterns of electrical impulses, and an intense magnetic field—or rather, a number of them. It seems to have locked onto us."

  The craft lurched, slightly but definitely. Kirk looked down at his console. "Yes, and it's taking us with it."

  "Captain!" the woman's voice called. "What's happening? I demand to know!"

  "You already know about as much as we do, Commissioner. Whatever that thing is outside, it's pulling us off our course for the Enterprise."

  "Now on course 98 mark 12," Spock said. "Heading straight into the Gamma Canaris region."

  "Jim!" McCoy said. "We've got to get Miss Hedford to the Enterprise—her condition—"

  "I'm sorry, Bones. There's nothing we can do."

  "I am not at all surprised," Miss Hedford said coldly. "This is exactly the sort of thing I expect from the Starfleet. If I am as sick as this dubious authority claims I am—"

  "Believe me, you are," McCoy said. "You may feel fine now, but nevertheless you're very ill."

  "Then why are you all just sitting there? I insist—"

  "I'm sorry, Commissioner," Kirk said. "We'll do what we can when we can—but right now we're helpless. You might as well sit back and enjoy the ride."

  The Galileo was put down—there seemed to be no other word for it—on a small planet, of which very few details could be seen through the enveloping nebulosity. But the moment they had grounded, the cloud vanished, leaving them staring out at a broad, deserted sweep of heathlike countryside.

  "Bones, Mr. Spock, get some readings on this place." Kirk snapped a switch. "Enterprise, this is the Galileo. Kirk here. Come in, please. Come in . . . no good, we're not sending. That cloud must still be around someplace. Any data, anybody?"

  "The atmosphere is almost identical with that of the Earth," Spock reported, "and so is the gravity. Almost impossible for a planet this small, unless the core is something other than the usual nickel-iron. But suitable for human life."

  "Well, I guess we get out and get under," Kirk said."Bones, phaser out and maintain full alert. Commissioner, best you stay inside for the time being."

  "And just how long a time is that?"

  "That's a very good question. I wish I could answer it. Mr. Spock, let's go."

  Outside, they went to the rear of the shuttlecraft and unbolted the access panels to the machinery, while McCoy stayed up forward. Checking the works did not take long.

  "Very strange," Spock said. "In fact, quite impossible."

  "Nothing works."

  "Nothing. And for no reason."

  "Of course there's a reason. We just haven't found it yet. Let's go over it again."

  While they were at it, Nancy Hedford came out and headed for them, looking, as usual, both annoyed and officious. Patience was evidently not her strong point, either. Kirk sighed and straightened.

  "Well, Captain?"

  "Well, Commissioner?"

  "Where is this strange powerful force of yours, which brought us here? Or could it be that you simply made a navigational error?"

  "There was no error, Miss Hedford," Kirk said patiently. "For your information, our power units are dead—so I judge that the force you refer to is still in the vicinity."

  "I am not interested in alibis, Captain. I insist that you get us off this dismal rock immediately."

  "Commissioner, I realize that you're ill, and you're anxious to receive treatment."

  "I am anxious, as you put it, to get this medical nonsense out of the way so I can get back to my assignment!"

  McCoy, looking rather anxious himself, had joined them. He said, "How do you feel, Commissioner?"

  "I wish you would stop asking that stupid question." She strode angrily away.

  Kirk managed a rueful grin. "As long as she answers you like that, Bones, I guess she feels all right."

  "But she won't for long. The fever's due to hit any time."

  As Kirk started to reply, there was a long, hailing call from no very great distance. "Halllooooo!"

  They turned, startled. A human figure had emerged from over the horizon, which on this small world was no more than a mile away. It waved its arms, and came toward them at a run.

  "Bones, I want a physiological reading on—whoever that is."

  The figure disappeared behind a rise, and then appeared at the top of it, looking down on the party. It was a young, sturdy, tall, handsome man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a one-piece suit of coveralls. His expression was joyful.

  "Hello!" he said again, plunging down the rise to them. "Are you real? I mean—I'm not imagining you, am I?"

  "We're real enough," Kirk said.

  "And you speak English. Earth people?"

  Kirk nodded. "From the Federation."

  "The Federation? Well, it doesn't matter." He grabbed Kirk's hand enthusiastically. "I'm Cochrane. Been marooned here who knows how long. If you knew how good it was to see you . . . and a woman! A beautiful one at that. Well!"

  Kirk made the introductions. Cochrane, still staring at the Commissioner, said, "You're food to a starving man. All of you." He looked over to Spock. "A Vulcan, aren't you. When I was there—hey, there's a nice ship. Simple, clean. Been trying to get her going again? Forget it. It won't work."

  He began to circle the shuttlecraft, admiringly. Kirk said in a low voice to McCoy, "Our friend seems to have a grasshopper mind."

  "Too many things to take in all at once. Normal reaction. In fact, everything checks out perfectly normal. He's human."

  "Mr. Cochrane!" The newcomer rejoined them, still beaming. "We were forced off our course and brought here by some power we couldn't identify—which seems to be here on the surface of the planet at the moment."

  "Could be. Strange things happen in space."

  "You said we wouldn't be able to get the ship functioning again?" Spock asked.

  "Not a chance. Damping field of some sort down here. Power systems don't work. Take my word for it."

  "You won't mind if we keep trying?" Spock persisted.

  "Go right ahead. You'll have plenty of time."

  "How about you, Cochrane?" Kirk said. "What are you doing here?"

  "Marooned. I told you. Look, we've got lots of time to learn about each other. I've got a little place not far away. All the comforts of home." He turned to the woman. "I can even offer you a hot bath."

  "How acute of you to notice that I needed it," she said icily.

  "If you don't mind, Mr. Cochrane," Kirk said, "I'd like a little more than just the statement that you were marooned here. This is a long way off the beaten path."

  "That's right. That's why I'm so glad to see you. Look, I'll tell you everything you want to know. But not here." He eyed the shuttlecraft again. "A beauty."

  "You've been out of circulation a while. Maybe the principles are new to you. Mr. Spock, would you like to explain our propulsion methods to Mr. Cochrane?"

  "Of course, Captain. Mr. Cochrane?"

  As the
two moved off, McCoy said, "He talks a lot but he doesn't say much."

  "I noticed," Kirk said. "And I noticed something else. There's something familiar about him, Bones."

  "Familiar? . . . well, now that you mention it, I think so too."

  "I can't place him, but . . . how about Miss Hedford?"

  "No temperature yet. But we've got to get under way soon. I guarantee you it'll develop."

  "You're sure there's no mistake? It is Sakuro's disease?"

  "Positive. And something else I'm not mistaken about. Untreated, it's fatal. Always . . . well, what do we do now?"

  "I think we'll take Mr. Cochrane up on his offer. At least we can make her comfortable."

  Cochrane's house was a simple functional cube, with a door, but no windows. The surrounding area was cultivated.

  "You built this, Mr. Cochrane?" Spock said.

  "Yes. I had some tools and supplies left over from my crash. It's not Earth, of course, but it's livable. I grow vegetables, as you see. Come on in."

  He led the way. The house contained a heating unit which apparently served as a stove, a climate control device, and some reasonably comfortable furniture, all decidedly old. Miss Hedford looked around with distaste.

  "What a dreadful, dingy place," she said.

  Cochrane only smiled. "But I call it home, Miss Hedford."

  "Where did you get the antiques?" Kirk said.

  "The antiques? Oh, you mean my gadgets. I imagine things have changed a lot since I wrecked."

  "Not that much."

  "Must you keep it so terribly hot?" the woman asked.

  "The temperature is a constant seventy-two degrees."

  "Do you feel hot?" McCoy asked Miss Hedford.

  She flopped angrily down in a chair. "I feel infuriated, deeply put upon, absolutely outraged."

  "It was quite a hike here," McCoy said. "You're tired. Just take it easy for a while."

  "I'll rest later, Doctor. Right now I am planning the report I will make to the Board of Commissioners on the efficiency of the Starfleet. I assure all of you it will be very, very complete."

  "Captain! Doctor!" Spock called from the door. "Look at this, please!"

  Alarmed at the urgency in his voice, Kirk crossed to the door in one bound. Outside, perhaps half a mile away, was a columnar area of blurry, misty interference, like a tame whirlwind, except that there was no wind. Faint pastel lights and shades appeared and disappeared inside it. With it there was a half sound, half feeling of soft chiming music. For a moment it moved from side to side, gently; then it disappeared.