Star Trek 07

by James Blish

  Kirk turned quickly to Cochrane. "What was that?"

  "Sometimes the light plays tricks on you," Cochrane said. "You'd be surprised what I've imagined I've seen around here."

  "We imagined nothing, Mr. Cochrane. There was an entity out there, and I suspect it was the same entity that brought us here. Please explain."

  "There's nothing to explain."

  "Mr. Cochrane, you'll find I have a low tolerance level where the safety of my people are concerned. We find you out here where no human has any business being. We were virtually hijacked in space and brought here—apparently by that thing we just saw out there. I am not just requesting an explanation, Mister. I am demanding it!"

  Cochrane shrugged. "All right. Out there—that was the Companion."

  "The what?"

  "That's what I call it. The fact is, Captain, I did not crash here. I was brought here in my disabled ship. I was almost dead. The Companion saved my life."

  "You seem perfectly healthy now," Kirk said. "What was wrong?"

  "Old age, Captain. I was eighty-seven years old at the time. I don't know how it did it, but the Companion rejuvenated me. Made me—well—young again, like I am now."

  Kirk and Spock exchanged glances. Spock's eyebrows were about to crawl right off the top of his forehead. He said, "I would like to reserve judgment on that part of your story, sir. Would you mind telling us exactly what this Companion of yours is?"

  "I told you, I don't know what it is. It exists. It lives. I can communicate with it to a limited extent."

  "That's a pretty far-out story," McCoy said.

  "You saw the creature. Have you a better story?"

  "Mr. Cochrane," Kirk said. "Do you have a first name?"

  Cochrane nodded. "Zefram."

  McCoy's jaw dropped, but Spock had apparently been expecting the answer. Kirk said, "Cochrane of Alpha Centauri? The discoverer of the space warp?"

  "That's right, Captain."

  "Zefram Cochrane," McCoy said, "has been dead a hundred and fifty years."

  "His body was never found," Spock said.

  "You're looking at it, Mr. Spock," Cochrane said.

  "You say this Companion of yours found you and rejuvenated you. What were you doing in space at the age of eighty-seven?"

  "I was tired, Captain. I was going to die. And I wanted to die in space. That's all."

  McCoy turned to Miss Hedford, whose eyes were now closed. He felt her forehead, then took readings. He was obviously concerned by the results.

  "These devices," Spock said. "They all date from the time indicated. From your ship, Mr. Cochrane?"

  "I cannibalized it. The rest-—the food, water, gardens, everything I need—the Companion gives me. Creates it, apparently, out of the native elements."

  "If you can communicate with it," Kirk said, "maybe you can find out what we are doing here."

  "I already know."

  "You wouldn't mind telling us?"

  "You won't like it."

  "We already don't like it."

  "You're here to keep me company," Cochrane said. "I was always pretty much of a loner. Spent years in space by myself. At first being alone here didn't bother me. But a hundred and fifty years is a long time, Kirk. Too long. I finally told the Companion I'd die without the company of other humans. I thought it would release me—send me back somehow. Instead, it went out and obviously brought back the first human beings it could find."

  "No!" Miss Hedford cried weakly. "No! It's disgusting! We're not animals!"

  She began to sob. McCoy, with Kirk's help, lifted her and put her on a cot, where McCoy gave her a shot. Gradually, her sobbing subsided.

  "Bad," said McCoy. "Very bad."

  "You can't do anything?"

  "Keep her quiet. Keep secondary infections from developing. But the attrition rate of her red corpuscles is increasing. I can't stop it."

  Kirk turned to Spock. "Mr. Spock, the next time that thing appears, don't fail to get tricorder readings. Find us a weapon to use against that thing."

  "Captain, I have already drawn certain tentative conclusions. Considering the anomalously small size of this planet, and the presence of the damping field Mr. Cochrane mentioned, plus the Companion, leads me to believe that it was the moon of some larger body now destroyed, and was colonized by a highly advanced civilization."

  "I agree," Cochrane said. "I've found some artifacts which suggest the same thing."

  "The point, Spock?"

  "One can deduce further that the Companion may be the last survivor of this long-dead culture. You ask me to find a weapon. Do you intend to destroy it?"

  "I intend to do whatever is necessary to get us away from here and Commissioner Hedford to a hospital," Kirk said grimly. "If the Companion stands in the way, then we push it out of the way. Clear, Mr. Spock?"

  "Quite clear, Captain." Spock picked up his tricorder and left, heading for the shuttlecraft.

  "Cochrane, if you left here, what would happen to you?"

  "I'd start to age again, normally."

  "You want to get away from here?"

  "Believe me, Captain, immortality consists largely of boredom. Of course I do . . . what's it like out there? In the galaxy?"

  "We're on a thousand planets, and spreading out We're crossing fantastic distances . . . and finding life everywhere. We estimate there are millions of planets with intelligent life. We haven't begun to map them." Cochrane's eyes were shining. "Interesting?"

  "How would you like to go to sleep for a hundred and fifty years and wake up in a new world?"

  "Good," Kirk said. "It's all out there, waiting for you. And you'll find your name honored there. But we'll probably need your help to get away."

  "You've got it."

  "All right. You seem to think this Companion can do almost anything."

  "I don't know its limitations."

  "Could it cure Commissioner Hedford?"

  "I don't know."

  "It's worth a try. We're helpless. You say you can communicate with it?"

  "To a degree. It's on a non-verbal level, but I usually get my messages across."

  "Try it now. See if it can do anything."

  Cochrane nodded and stepped outside, followed by Kirk and McCoy. "How do you do it?" Kirk said.

  "I just sort of . . . clear my mind. Then it comes. Better stay back."

  Cochrane closed his eyes. A long moment passed, and then Kirk heard the melodic humming of the Companion. It appeared near Cochrane, shimmering, resplendent with a dozen beautiful colors, to the sound of faint bells. It moved to Cochrane, enveloped him, gathered around him, hovering. The lights played on Cochrane's face.

  "What do you make of that, Bones?" Kirk said softly.

  "Almost a symbiosis of some kind. A sort of joining."

  "Just what I was thinking. Not exactly like a pet owner speaking to an affectionate animal, would you say?"

  "No. More than that."

  "I agree. Much more. Possibly . . . love."

  Now the Companion was moving away from Cochrane, who was slowly returning to normal. The Companion faded away, and Cochrane shook his head and looked about as if to get his bearings. His eyes settled on Kirk.

  "You all right?" Kirk said.

  "Oh. Yes. I . . . it always kind of . . . drains me. But I'm all right."

  "Well?"

  Cochrane shook his head again. "The Companion can't do anything to help Miss Hedford. There seems to be some question of identity involved . . . I didn't understand it. But the answer is no, I'm sure of that."

  "Then she'll die."

  "Look, I'm sorry. If I could help you, I would. But the Companion won't."

  It was several hours before Spock came back from the shuttlecraft. When he returned, he was carrying with him a small but complex black device, obviously in very rough form, as though it had been hastily put together by a gifted child. He took it into the house. "Your weapon, Captain."

  "Oho. How does it work?"

  "The Compa
nion, as we already know, is mostly plasma—a state of matter characterized by a high degree of ionization. To put the matter simply, it is mostly electricity. I propose to, in effect, short it out. Put this in proximity to the Companion, throw this switch, and we will scramble every electrical impulse the creature can produce. It cannot fail."

  Cochrane was staring unhappily at the device. Kirk said, "It troubles you, Cochrane?"

  "The Companion saved my life. Took care of me for a hundred and fifty years. We've been . . . very close . . . in a way that's hard to explain. I suppose I even have a sort of affection for it."

  "It's also keeping you a prisoner here."

  "I don't want it killed."

  Spock said, "We may simply render it powerless—"

  "But you don't know!" Cochrane said intensely. "You could kill it! I won't stand for that, Kirk."

  "We're getting away from here, Cochrane. Make up your mind to that."

  "What kind of people are you nowadays?" Cochrane demanded. "Doesn't gratitude mean anything to you?"

  "I've got a woman dying in here, Cochrane. I'll do anything I have to to save her life."

  Cochrane stared at Kirk, and slowly the fight went out of him. "I suppose, from your point of view, you're right. I only . . ."

  "We understand how you feel, Mr. Cochrane," McCoy said. "But it has to be done."

  "All right. You want me to call it, I suppose?"

  "Please," Kirk said. "Outside."

  McCoy remained with his patient. Spock hefted his device, and he and Kirk left the house. Already, Cochrane and the Companion were approaching each other. Soft lights and soft music came from the creature. It almost seemed to be purring.

  "Is this close enough?" Kirk whispered.

  "I think so," Spock whispered back. "But there is a certain risk. We do not know the extent of the creature's powers."

  "Nor it ours. Now, Spock!"

  Spock closed the switch. The blurring of the Companion abruptly increased, and a sharp high-pitched humming sound came from it, alarmed, strong. The pastel colors changed to somber blues and greens, and the hint of bells changed to a discordant clanging. Cochrane, only a few feet away from it, grasped his head and staggered, then fell. The evanescent, ever-changing, column of plasma swept down upon the house.

  Kirk and Spock ducked inside, but there was no safety there. The room was filled with the whirling and clanging. With it, Kirk felt a terrible sense of pressure, all over his body. The breath was crushed out of him. He struck out, but there was nothing to strike at. Beside him, he was aware that Spock had dropped the device and was also gasping futilely for air.

  "Stop it! Stop it!" McCoy's voice shouted, as if from a great distance. "It's killing them!"

  Cochrane came in, and, immediately divining what was happening, went into the position of communion. The Companion's colors returned to the pastel, and the creature faded away. Kirk and Spock both fell to their knees, gulping in great gasps of air. McCoy knelt beside them; Cochrane went out again.

  "Are you all right?" McCoy said. "Can you breathe?"

  Kirk nodded. "All. . . right, Bones." He got shakily to his feet, followed by Spock, who also seemed to be regaining his strength rapidly. "Cochrane's got it off us. I don't know whether he did us a favor or not."

  "What kind of talk is that?" McCoy said sharply.

  "How do you fight a thing like that? I've got a ship somewhere out there . . . the responsibility for four lives here . . . and one of them dying."

  "That's not your fault."

  "I'm in command, Bones. That makes it my fault. Now I've had it. I can't destroy it. I can't force it to let us go."

  After a moment McCoy said, "You're a soldier so often that maybe you forget you were also trained to be a diplomat. Why not try using a carrot instead of a stick?"

  "But what could I offer . . . Hmmm. Maybe we can. Spock!"

  "Yes, Captain."

  "The universal translator on the shuttlecraft. We can try that. Talk to the thing."

  "The translator is for use with more congruent life-forms."

  "Adjust it. Change it. The trouble with immortality is that it's boring. Adjusting the translator would give you something to do."

  "It's possible. If I could widen its pattern of reception—"

  "Right down your alley, Mr. Spock. Get it here and get to work."

  The translator was small but intricate. Cochrane eyed it interestedly, while McCoy tended his patient. "How does that gadget work?" he said.

  "There are certain universal ideas and concepts, common to all intelligent life," Kirk explained. "This device instantaneously compares the frequency of brainwave patterns, selects those it recognizes, and provides the necessary grammar and vocabulary."

  "You mean the box speaks?"

  "With the voice, or its approximation, of whatever creature is on the sending end. It's not perfect, of course, but it usually works well enough. Are you ready, Mr. Spock?"

  "Quite ready, Captain."

  "Mr. Cochrane, call the Companion, please."

  Cochrane left the house, Kirk and Spock once more following, with the translator. And again the sound of the Companion preceded its appearance; then it was there, misty, enigmatic. Spock touched the translator and nodded to Kirk.

  "Companion . . . we wish to talk to you."

  There was a change in the sound. The Companion drew away from Cochrane. Then a voice came from the translator. It was soft, gentle—and unmistakably feminine.

  "How can we communicate? My thoughts . . . you are hearing them. This is interesting."

  "Feminine, Spock," Kirk said. "No doubt about it."

  "Odd. The matter of gender could change the entire situation."

  "Dr. McCoy and I are way ahead of you, Mr. Spock."

  "Then it is not a zoo-keeper."

  "No, Mr. Spock. A lover . . . Companion! It is wrong to hold us here against our will."

  "The man needs the company of his own kind, or he will cease to exist," the gentle voice said. "He felt it to me."

  "One of us is about to cease to exist. She must be taken to a place where we can care for her."

  "The man needs others of his species. That is why you are here. The man must continue."

  "Captain, there is a peculiar, dispassionate logic here," Spock said. "Pragmatism unalloyed. From its words, I would say it will never understand our point of view."

  "Maybe. Companion, try to understand. It is the nature of our species to be free, just as it is your nature to stay here. We will cease to exist in captivity."

  "Your bodies have stopped their peculiar degeneration. You will continue without end. There will be sustenance. There will be nothing to harm you. You will continue and the man will continue. This is necessary."

  "Captain!" Spock said. "This is a marvelous opportunity for us to add to our knowledge. Ask it about its nature, its history—"

  "Mr. Spock, this is no classroom. I'm trying to get us away from here."

  "A chance like this may never come again. It could tell us so much—"

  "Mr. Spock, get lost. Companion, it is plain you do not understand us. This is because you are not of our species. Believe me, we do not lie. What you offer us is not continuation. It is non-existence. We will cease to exist. Even the man will cease to exist."

  "Your impulses are illogical. This communication is useless. The Man must continue. Therefore, you will continue. It is necessary."

  The voice fell silent. The Companion moved away. Slowly it started to grow fainter, and finally was not there at all.

  Kirk's shoulders sagged, and he went back into the house, followed by Spock. Cochrane came in after them.

  "Captain," he said, "why did you build that translator of yours with a feminine voice box?"

  "We didn't," Kirk said.

  "But I heard—"

  "The ideas of male and female are universal constants, Cochrane. The Companion is definitely female."

  "I don't understand."

  "You don
't?" said McCoy. "A blind man could see it with his cane. You're not a pet, Cochrane. Nor a specimen kept in a cage. You're a lover."

  "I'm—what?"

  "Isn't it evident?" Kirk said. "Everything she does is for you. Provides for you. Feeds you. Shelters you. Clothes you. Brings you companions when you're lonely."

  "Her attitude, when she approaches you, is profoundly different from when she contacts us," Spock added. "In appearance, in sound, in method. Though I do not completely understand the emotion, it obviously exists. The Companion loves you."

  Cochrane stared at them. "That's—that's ridiculous!"

  "Not at all," Kirk said. "We've seen similar situations."

  "But after a hundred and fifty years—"

  "What happens when you communicate with it?" Spock said.

  "Why, we sort of . . . it—it merges with my mind."

  "Of course. It is nothing to be shocked by. A simple symbolic union of two minds."

  "That's outrageous! Do you know what you're saying? No, you couldn't! But . . . all the years . . . letting something . . . as alien as that . . . into my mind, my feelings—" Suddenly Cochrane was furious as well as astonished. "It tricked me! It's some kind of an . . . emotional vampire! Crawling around inside me!"

  "It didn't hurt you, did it?" Kirk said.

  "Hurt me? What has that to do with it? You can be married to a woman you love for fifty years and still keep your private places in your mind. But this—this thing—fed on me!"

  "An interesting attitude," Spock said. "Typical of your time, I should say, when humanity had much less contact with alien life-forms than at present."

  "Don't sit there and calmly analyze a disgusting thing like this!" Cochrane exploded. "What kind of men are you, anyway?"

  "There's nothing disgusting about it, Cochrane," McCoy said. "It's just one more life-form. You get used to these things."

  "You turn my stomach! You're as bad as it is!"