Kirk shrugged. “If he has questions, put off answering them directly. For a while at least. It’ll buy us some time until we can think of a better excuse for keeping them penned up. Once we get to Earth, we can arrange for them to be quarantined until Starfleet decides how to deal with them.” He looked at his science officer. “Spock?”
“A not unreasonable scenario, Captain. I admit to being far more concerned about Lieutenant Uhura’s report and the possibility that they may have accessed the ship’s main computer. This matter of them inflicting feelings of uselessness and inferiority on individual crewmembers concerns me considerably less.”
McCoy glared at him. “Is that your roundabout way of saying that while the Perenoreans might be smarter than humans, that there’s no way they can be smarter than Vulcans?”
Kirk raised a restraining hand before the science officer could reply. “Please, Bones. Not now.” He looked back to Spock. “Vulcan emotional control would render you much less vulnerable to the kind of benign psychological manipulation the Perenoreans are apparently inflicting. I don’t know about smarts, but it’s a fact that humans are far more prone than Vulcans to suffer from psychological complexes such as inferiority, whether internally generated or imposed from outside.
“So that is another reason for restricting their movements until we reach Earth. Unauthorized computer access aside, the mental as well as physical health of my crew comes before any diplomatic niceties.” He smiled thinly. “If the Perenoreans truly want to be ‘helpful,’ they won’t raise any strenuous objections to the new state of affairs.”
McCoy nodded slowly. “Even if they don’t accept my reasoning, I suppose I can still find ways to stall them until Starfleet can take over.” His expression was somber. “And if they don’t, we might get our answer.”
“Agreed.” Kirk rose. “Bones, keep me apprised of any more crew seeking treatment for depression. Spock, get me some answers.”
“Immediately, Captain.”
Both men departed. Kirk blew out a long, frustrated breath, his mind racing. A number of days remained before they reached Sol. That ought to give them enough time to acquire some knowledge as to what was going on aboard the Enterprise. Kirk also couldn’t help thinking that in alluding to the Kobayashi Maru simulation, Spock had been teasing him in his own way, but there was no mistaking the science officer’s point.
* * *
Evrenth terminated the surreptitious connection and the view of Captain Kirk’s cabin vanished. Turning his slim form around in the human chair, he faced his Perenorean superior.
“What shall we do now? If the humans do not allow us to circulate freely among them while on their homeworld, we cannot be of assistance to its people.”
Leaderesque Taell did not have to deliberate. Perenoreans rarely wasted time in superfluous contemplation. He looked unhappy.
“Our good friends and benefactors are about to do themselves harm by refusing us such access. They have already hurt themselves by attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to restrict our access to their knowledge.” He emitted the Perenorean equivalent of a reluctant sigh. “We have no choice. It is our duty as good friends and grateful allies. We must protect them from their own poor decisions.” He did his best to put as positive a spin on the situation as he could. “Most of them are, at heart, not illogical. Once they realize that we mean them only good, they will calm down and drop these foolish and unreasonable concerns.”
With both seven-fingered hands, Evrenth gestured full understanding. “This is the same irrational fear we have faced among our other new friends, the SiBoronaans.”
“Yes.” Taell rose. “Continue to quietly monitor as much of Captain Kirk’s movements and conversation as possible without letting him or anyone else become aware that it is taking place. Before our movements are restricted, I will inform the others and initiate an appropriate response. It is well that we prepared ourselves for such a contingency.”
Again, Evrenth gestured knowingly. “I will never understand why such a response is necessary. One would think that, after multiple such interventions launched from the homeworld have demonstrated the value of our freely given assistance, other newly contacted species would simply and sensibly accept them.”
“Yes. However, as we are from a displaced colony ship, these SiBoronaans and Federation peoples have no knowledge of the help we have rendered to other worlds and their eventually grateful inhabitants.”
“In the end it will not matter,” replied Evrenth. “It will be here as it has been elsewhere. One day, the descendants of their unreasonably suspicious progenitors will stand before us and proclaim their eternal gratitude for the advances and aid we shall freely dispense.”
Taell was almost to the doorway. “Without question. And if we persist, one day we will surely also be able to include the inhabitants of the stubborn worlds of the Dre’kalak among those we have selflessly helped.”
14
Captain, cabin twenty-six is empty.”
Kirk listened to the report from the security team and frowned. “Try the mess. The Perenoreans like to eat. Once again, when you pick them up, treat them kindly but be firm as you escort them back to their quarters.” Movement behind him drew Kirk’s attention and he turned. When he resumed speaking, it was more slowly and softly.
“Never mind, Anson. They’re here.”
The security officer’s voice was anxious. “Shall we come up to the bridge, sir?”
Kirk briefly hesitated. “No. Move on to the next pair and deal with them. We’ll handle the situation here. There are only two of them.”
“Yes, sir.” The officer sounded dubious but dutiful. “Anson out.”
Kirk looked on as the two Perenoreans came toward him. Chekov glanced up from the navigator’s station while Sulu attended to his work. At communications, Uhura paused in what she was doing to observe the quiet confrontation. At present, the science station was occupied by Ensign Marinsky.
Halting a couple of arm’s lengths from the captain’s chair, Taell peered down at Kirk while Masteresque Founoh lingered slightly behind. While the Perenorean voice was as subdued as ever, there was a new crispness to his words as he addressed the captain.
“We have learned that you plan to confine us to our cabins on the Enterprise until certain decisions can be made regarding our forthcoming visit to Earth. And that this decision was made because of certain misconceptions that have unaccountably taken hold. We also know that our visit to Earth might now be fully denied and that we may be returned to DiBor without being allowed to show our gratitude for what you have done for us.”
“What makes you think that?” Kirk replied noncommittally even as he wondered how the Perenoreans had learned of this.
There was no false pride in Taell’s response. “We are adept at knowing facts that relate to our survival.”
“Your survival is hardly at stake if you’re asked to stay in your cabins, or if you have to go back to DiBor.”
The leaderesque was not appeased. “We cannot accept irrational restrictions on our movements or on our ability to aid those who would benefit from our suggestions and help.”
By now, Sulu as well as Chekov had picked up on the tenor of the conversation. Separately and on their own initiative, both men touched fingers to drawers at their consoles. Reading and recognizing the relevant biometrics, both drawers silently unlocked. Stored within were phasers within easy reach.
Kirk smiled apologetically at the two visitors. There was no reason to worry. If they had been carrying any kind of weapons, numerous alarms would have gone off and the lift in which they had been traveling would have locked up and stalled long before its armed occupants could reach the bridge.
“Respectfully, you’ll just have to accept them. Not only are your ‘helpful suggestions’ unleashing a wave of depression and feelings of uselessness among my crew, but the evidence is clear that you’ve also been accessing the ship’s computer to view materials that were designated off-limits
to you.”
Taell replied: “Our natural curiosity compels us to acquire new information whenever and wherever it is available.”
“That’s just it.” Kirk’s tone hardened. “It wasn’t available to you. Somehow you hacked into the ship’s computer. I hope you haven’t done any damage while you were poking around in there.”
Taell looked shocked. “We would never do such a thing! We always take the utmost care with property that belongs to others.”
“I wish I could believe that,” Kirk told him stolidly. “You’ve lied about being in the restricted files—why should I believe you when you say you’d never do any damage?”
“Because it is integral to who we are,” Founoh protested, speaking up for the first time.
Kirk smiled humorlessly. “Then you admit that you’ve been accessing material that was made off-limits to you?”
Off to the captain’s side, Sulu quietly took out his phaser.
“I sense that you are filled with an unreasoning fear.” Founoh advanced until he was standing beside the leaderesque. “What harm can our perusal of your stored and somewhat clumsily filed data do you?”
Kirk sat up straight in his command chair. “You and your companions are to be confined to your assigned quarters and allowed out only under armed escort. The computer access links to your cabins have been shut down. Hopefully, this minor misunderstanding can be resolved when we reach Earth. If Starfleet determines that nothing untoward has occurred, I’m sure your visit will be allowed to proceed as originally planned.”
The two Perenoreans exchanged a look. “We understand, Captain,” Taell finally told him.
Kirk looked surprised but pleased. “You do?”
“Yes.” As the leaderesque stepped past the captain’s chair, Founoh turned to leave. As he did so, he pulled something small and unseen from within the folds of his attire.
Both Perenoreans took aim and fired at the same time. Eyes widening at the sudden and incredibly rapid movement, Sulu tried to fire his phaser. Alongside him, Chekov was frantically fighting to do the same. Neither man’s fingers made it to their respective triggers.
Passing unnoticed by the weapon detectors installed in the ship’s turbolifts and on the bridge was a small personal moisturizer that had undergone radical modification. As compact as ever, the simple push-button sprays had been replaced with higher-power emitters as efficient as their design was complex. An engineer taking one of the devices apart would have been amazed at what had been cobbled together out of harmless components scavenged from isolated corners of the Enterprise.
The small spurt of fluid turned into a cloud of minuscule droplets before striking Sulu and Chekov. Another struck Uhura. Marinsky was engulfed as he tried to sound a warning. Kirk’s right hand was sliding toward the alarm on his chair when he inhaled just enough of the mist Taell had sprayed in his face to be reminded of freshly mowed wheat.
Keeping clear of those they had sprayed, Taell and Founoh stood back to back, holding their small containers out in front of them. No one charged them. No alarm sounded. Design and assembly of the modified sprayers and their rapidly atomizing contents had not been difficult. Their fellow Perenoreans had been able to glean the engineering knowledge from Montgomery Scott, acquired the active ingredients from working with the food-preparation supervisor Wissell, and the necessary information on human physiology from Doctor Leonard McCoy.
Kirk blinked into the silence and said nothing. Then a slow, wide smile spread across his face and he swung his chair around to once more face forward. Eschewing the sidearm that was so near at hand, Sulu returned to supervising the helm, Chekov to keeping track of navigation, Marinsky to keeping watch over science, and Uhura to monitoring communications.
As soon as Taell was certain that the spray he and Masteresque Founoh had unleashed had produced the desired effect, he approached the back of the command chair. When Kirk did not react to his proximity, Taell walked around to the side.
“Greetings, Captain Kirk.”
The broad smile having swiftly settled into a permanent facial feature, Kirk blinked up at the Perenorean. “Hi, Taell. Everything going well for your people?”
“Everything is quite satisfactory, Captain.”
“Nothing else that you need?” Kirk’s expression bordered on dreamy.
“No, Captain. Thank you. We have everything that we need.”
“Well, that’s just fine and dandy.” Slumping slightly in the chair, Kirk half shut his eyes and entwined his fingers over his lap. “We should be arriving in Earth orbit shortly.”
“I know, Captain.”
For an instant, something like recognition transformed Kirk’s expression. Recognition, and the slimmest suggestion of fear. It passed quickly and the all-embracing smile returned.
“You guys sure do know a lot.”
“Sadly, we swim in a sea of boundless ignorance, Captain Kirk. But thank you for the compliment. We look forward to greatly expanding our knowledge when we arrive at Earth.”
“Yeah,” Kirk mumbled. “Great place for expanding your knowledge, Earth.” He slid even lower in the chair, as if his mind had lost interest in his muscles. “You gotta ’scuse me. I’m feeling kinda tired alluva sudden.”
“Certainly, Captain. One in your position of great authority needs his rest.”
In moments, Kirk was asleep. Taell knew that if Founoh’s formulation had done its work according to predictions, then the effects of the spray would last for some time. The bridge crew would return to active consciousness groggy and uncertain as to exactly what had transpired. They would be just aware enough to take care of themselves—and to allow them to respond to Perenorean instructions. Then another dose of spray would be administered. It was a pattern that could be repeated without difficulty until they arrived at Earth. At which time, the leader of the Perenorean delegation knew, more rigorous supervision of the crew would have to be instigated.
Given the success achieved through the use of the spray thus far, Taell anticipated no problems.
* * *
Yoronar and his three companions encountered no opposition as they made their way swiftly down the corridor. No one challenged their right to be there. The lack of confrontation suggested that Leaderesque Taell and Masteresque Founoh had achieved their goal of rendering the starship’s bridge crew compliant.
Scott met them at the entrance to engineering. His gaze darted from one alien to the next. “Well then, my lanky lads, ’tis unusual to see so many of you in one place at one time. My understandin’ is that you’re usually dispersed about the ship. What can I do for you?”
One of the Perenoreans looked at her companion. “That strange human salutation again, wherein they offer assistance in the most general terms but never seem to follow through on it.”
“What’s that, lassie?”
Yoronar stepped forward. “Think of the most wonderful aroma you can imagine, Mister Scott. The most attractive fragrance. The most all-consuming scent.”
The chief engineer guffawed softly. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about, but that’s an easy question. Fresh heather bloomin’ in the Highlands, o’ course. Why?”
From the twists of his colorful attire, the Perenorean engineer brought forth a small spray container. Though it looked pretty much like the one Scott kept in his locker, he noted absently that it was crowned by a small improvised mechanism that was far more complex than the usual top.
“That is such a coincidence,” Yoronar continued, “because it is exactly what we have herein distilled.” A delicate finger pad nudged a control on the back of the cylinder.
Alarmed, Scott tried to turn his face away from the emerging mist. A moist coolness settled on his cheeks, nose, forehead, and mouth, tickling his pores and cooling his skin. The perfume that accompanied the dampness possessed all the promise the alien had foretold; the fragrance was honeyed and refreshing. He suddenly felt unaccountably buoyant, as if all the cares and concerns of his job had been pulled
from him like a bad tooth from an infected mouth. For the first time in recent memory, he was completely relaxed.
And why not? No need to worry about the engines and such trifles. Not on a modern starship as automated and self-maintaining as the Enterprise. Calmness flooded his thoughts, smothering any uncertainty. He’d been working too bloody hard, he had! Take some time to smell the lubricants. Relax, settle down, stand at ease. Engineering instrumentation would warn him if anything needed attention.
He was so tranquilized that he did not mind it at all when the four Perenoreans pushed past him and fanned out through the length and breadth of his engine room.
* * *
Spock saw the two Perenoreans coming toward him. As the order to restrict them to quarters had just gone out and had not yet had time to be fully implemented, he thought little of their presence. Somewhere along the corridor or wherever they were headed, they would run into one of the designated security teams who would take them in hand, politely explain the captain’s decision to temporarily restrict them to quarters, and escort them back to their cabins.
Though Spock’s reflexes were faster than those of a human, the Perenoreans’ turned out to be faster. He was not able to react in time to prevent being doused with spray when one of the aliens unexpectedly stopped in front of him and squirted a fine mist into his face. Instinctively he drew back as he prepared to respond physically to the expected assault. But the two Perenoreans simply stepped back and eyed him curiously out of yellow-gold eyes while waiting to see what he would do next.
“It is a new multispecies fragrance we have been working on,” the non-sprayer explained. “What do you think of it, Mister Spock?”
The science officer straightened and considered. Truthfully, the fine mist reminded him of the desert flowers his mother used to grow in boxes on the deck outside the family home. Kindled by the aromatic fog, the old memory was almost powerful enough to generate a mist of an entirely different kind.
The Unsettling Stars Page 20