Star Trek - TOS - Battlestations

by Diane Carey

  The humming took a little longer this time. "Veri-

  fied."

  63

  "Good," I murmured. "Computer, establish Clas

  A-1 priority command as specified."

  "Working. Priority established. Please go ahead."

  "Question is there a way to countermand current

  navigational program?" "Negative."

  No surprises there. I pressed on. "Is there a way to

  bypass current programming and engage a new pro-

  gram in its place?"

  "One moment, please." Click, buzz, whirr. "Af-

  firmative."

  "How?"

  "Under Star Fleet Regulations for Emergency

  Command, Section Z-12, subparagraph B, current

  authorized command must declare critical emergency

  computer activation."

  "Ah. Computer, this is Lieutenant Commander

  Piper. As commander of this vessel, I now declare

  critical emergency computer activation according to

  specified Star Fleet regulation." "Acknowledged."

  "Compute method for overriding current navigation

  programming and engaging a new program in its

  place," I said nervously, taking great care with my

  words. "Specify how to free helm to manual control."

  "Immediate answer is not available. Will advise

  upon completion of circuit analysis." With that, the

  computer board settled into a happy whirr.

  Scanner's lips fell open. "I'11 be danged!"

  It took the computer only four minutes to figure out

  a way around its own programming. Before any of us

  dared break the expectant silence, the pleasant female

  voice returned, rife with directions which Scanner and

  I carefully followed.

  "Reroute navigational circuitry through CKC-

  Bank, sections 72R through 197X, via Dexter-Nelson

  noncontiguous file cluster. Arrange file allocation

  64

  along following index pattern." A long list of number

  bunches appeared on the readout screen. Scanner

  wordlessly, even numbly, fed them into the appropri-

  ate systems, one by one. It was clear by the way he did

  it, slowly and with nervous care, that he didn't really

  understand what he was doing.

  "What's happening?" Merete asked quietly, as

  though she might disturb the computer's concentration

  if she spoke too loudly.

  "It's telling us how to get helm control," I said

  simply.

  McCoy shifted forward eagerly, with a strange en-

  thusiasm that I didn't quite know how to interpret.

  "You're actually breaking Spock's programming?"

  "No, not breaking it," I answered. "It can't be

  broken or stopped. He knew that's what we'd try to

  do, if we tried anything." "Then what--?"

  "It can't be stopped. But it can be replaced."

  He gave me an amusing frown. "Sounds like rheto-

  ric to me."

  "Ah, yes, but Rex has never been taught the art of

  rhetoric. It can't tell the difference, so it just does what

  it's told. The computer has no reason not to help us

  override the programming, so that's what it's doing.

  Didn't I tell you? Stupid!" My delight actually

  squeezed a giggle out of me, but I was too pleased to

  be embarrassed.

  "That's it." Scanner sat back. Fine beads of sweat

  glistened on his upper lip. "Now we wait."

  We settled down. The computer console did every-

  thing but spit bubbles. Lights glowed, then flickered,

  then changed intensity. Numbers on the readout

  screens flashed by faster than human eyes could as-

  similate them, backgrounded by jangles, grinds, and

  general electronic braying.

  Soft lights played across our faces. Faces of human-

  ity itself, reestablishing the true wonder of our own

  65

  power. Think of a machine... design a machine...

  build a machine... be carried into the farthest reaches

  of space by a machine... yet still rule over it. Still

  outthink it. Quite a partnership, quite a symbiosis. Our

  lives were in the hands of the machine, and its in ours.

  The patterns of lights grew pale. The clicking fell

  away, leaving only a whirr and hum. The whirr

  stopped. The hum faded. The readout screen went

  blank.

  Then, three simple words, flashing calmly, outlined

  in red

  HELM IS MANUAL

  The computer's firm voice echoed the words, once,

  in simple punctuation, then fell silent.

  My eyes drifted closed. My head drooped on 'aching

  shoulders.

  Behind me, Dr. McCoy and Merete shifted, sharing

  looks of disbelief that confirmed our success.

  Even Scanner, in his silence, radiated bone-deep

  amazement. One hand reached for the readout screen

  and tenderly touched it, in a silly human gesture. After

  a moment, his face, bathed in the gently flashing light,

  turned to me. "Well... you got control, Commander.

  I never woulda bet on it." He clapped his knees to

  renew the moment. "So, it's all yours. Where do you

  want us to go?"

  I forced my eyes to focus and stood up slowly,

  gazing out over the beautiful elegance of space as we

  cruised along at warp three.

  "To Argelius," I said. "But on my order."

  66

  Chapter Five

  "Didn't think I had it in me, did you?"

  --The Changeling

  I THINK SCANNER was plotting to have me assassi-

  nated. Merete was contemplating my mental condi-

  tion, and Dr. McCoy was shaking his head a lot. So,

  after another smooth escape disguised as a dramatic

  exit, I spent much of the next day's travel tucked

  safely in my quarters, gazing into the computer access

  screen.

  I'd been in there alone for three hours before any-

  body missed me during the next day-cycle. No sur-

  prise it was Merete who finally opted to peek in.

  "Disturbing?" she asked.

  My eyes flipped up from the computer screen--my

  only movement.. My preoccupation held for a long

  moment as I gazed at her, then I moved my hand from

  its parking place against my lips and said, "No. Come

  on in."

  She invited herself into the chair beside the bunk

  and looked at the screen. "Tech manuals?"

  "Look at this," I said flatly, punching the controls

  on the side of the access screen. The screen went

  blank for a moment, then flickered with new data.

  "I've been through this a dozen times already and I

  stl can't fathom it."

  "What is it?"

  67

  "Vulcan training."

  She inhaled, held it, and sighed. "Oh. Sarda's still

  on your mind. Any particular aspect this time?"

  "Sarda's clan."

  Her delicate eyes narrowed. "Sarda's clan specifi-

  cally? How did you ever find data that obscure?"

  I made a guttural sound to double the impact of her

  question. "Obscure is right. The Vulcans are noto-

  riously secretive. However, Doctor dear, the Federa-

  tion's liaison committee to the Confederation of 40

  Eridani isn't without its muscle. They co
nvinced the

  Vulcans to loosen their grip on cultural secrets at least

  enough that off-worlders could understand enough

  about them to respect them at a little less distance. I'll

  bet that day saw logic fly."

  "Even so," Merete countered as she sat at the end

  of my bunk, "Sarda's clan isn't exactly the visible elite

  of ShiKahr City, like Mr. Spock's. Isn't Sarda from

  somewhere below the Vulcan equatorial zone?"

  "He wouldn't tell me. I've been hunting through the

  library systems for weeks. Before 1 put out to sea on

  the Keeler, I left a search worm in the mainframe

  library computer at Starbase One. It's been picking

  through its indices, looking for information on Sarda

  and his tribe, or whatever they call themselves. All 1

  had to do was key into that system from here to get the

  results of the search."

  "So Mr. Spock's new computer for this ship is

  coming in handy." "Sure is."

  "What have you found?"

  "I found," came the answer, "the Lyr Zor."

  My revelation was lost on her. "Clan or region?"

  Self-consciously, I clarified. "Clan. The region is

  called Lyr T'aya, as closely as the computer can put it

  into English alphabet. It's way south, in the Vuldi

  Gorge. The nearest city is Jia'anKahr. Does that mean

  anything to you?"

  68

  She nodded, eyes widening. "It means remote. I

  knew Sarda wasn't from the city clans who usually

  gravitate to Star Fleet, but I had no idea..."

  I leaned forward. "Can you imagine the pressure it

  would take to force a Vulcan from a clan that remote to

  venture away from the planet? Do you realize how

  alone he must have been? And he knew he'd stand out

  at Star Fleet too. We don't exactly see fair-haired

  Vulcans every day."

  "And all this is teaching you something," Merete

  prodded gently, probably thinking my state of mind

  was as delicate as Sarda's.

  I took a deep breath. "I've found that Vulcan clans

  pretty much keep the teaching of their respective

  children as a private matter. Only when a Vulcan child

  reaches what they call Norn-La-Hal do they take on

  the blanket training of all Vulcans. So there's a plane-

  tary unity, but only after a certain point, if you get

  what I mean."

  "I do," she assured me. "And you're angry at the

  Lyr Zor for their particular method."

  This earned her a good long stare. How did she

  know? Was it etched so clearly in my expression? A

  passing flush of denial swept over me, a self-defense

  mode of pretending to keep an open mind--oh, what

  the hell. She saw through it anyway.

  I waved her closer to the computer screen. "Well,

  look at that. Just look."

  Together we read the rare data from Vuldi Gorge,

  the air around us heavy with implication.

  TRAINING FILE UI-77. LYR ZOR CLAN, LYR T'AYA REGION,

  VULDI GORGE CRESCENT, VULCAN. CONTACT SUNVAR,

  MAGISTRATE OF INTERPLANETARY RELATIONS, JIA'ANKAHR,

  VULCAN.

  NEWBORN-4 YEARS. VISUAL MATHEMATICS, BASIC CALCU-

  LATION, BEGIN NEUROLOGICAL ORGANIZING. LYR ZOR

  IDENTITY MELD.

  69

  FOUR YEARS. MATHEMATICS AND SPECIES IDENTIFICATION,

  PHYSICAL COORDINATION, ALGEBRA, GEOMETRY, PHYS-

  ICS.

  EIGHT YEARS. PRELIMINARY TELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION

  AND ETIQUETTE. LYR ZOR CLAN HISTORY. VULCAN AN-

  THROPOLOGY. CALCULUS. QUANTUM PHYSICS.

  TEN YEARS. SUPPRESSION OF CORTICAL STIMULAE IN

  DOMINANT HEMISPHERE. VULCAN CULTURAL HISTORY.

  STUDY OF VULCAN RITES OF PASSAGE.

  ELEVEN YEARS. PRESSURE POINTS OF MIND MELDING.

  MEMORY ACCURACY. INTERNAL-TIME COUNTING. INTRO-

  DUCTION TO LOGIC AND DEFINITION. PRINCIPLES OF

  ANALYSIS. CONCRETEHESS OF THOUGHT. PHYSICAL DE-

  PORTMENT.

  THIRTEEN-FIFTEEN. FORMAL TRAINING BEGINS.

  "Have you ever seen anything like that?" I blus-

  tered, deep in useless empathy. "That's what a Lyr

  Zor child goes through."

  "Have you got that in VulCan years or Earth Stan-

  dards?"

  "Earth Standards. But, my God, Merete, look at the

  pressure. Think about the incredible mental discipline

  involved. Not only that," I said, turning to her, "but

  notice how much of it involves social approval. Look

  .. cultural history, physical deportment, no less...

  and that's supposedly before formal training. It's prac-

  tically child abuse."

  Merete leaned back in her chair, her medical train-

  ing showing as she gave me both the benefit of the

  doubt and a moment to cool off. "You're right," she

  said patronizingly. "But don't forget they're born to it.

  Chances are a Vulcan child would be mentally unbal-

  anced if those tremendous brains of theirs weren't

  given something to grasp, even early on."

  I held out my hand to argue, then shook it and said,

  70

  "All right. Just keep watching and see what you think.

  Computer, continue rundown of Lyr Zor training."

  The screen unit buzzed, then moved ahead with

  colored letters on the screen.

  FORMAL TRAINING. TAL T'LEE. FIRST MEDITATION ASSISTED

  BY AN ADEPT OF LYR ZOR COUNCIL. CONTROL OF SUB-

  DOMINANT CORTICES. DWEMISH HI-AN. IDENTITY ISOLA-

  TION. BRAIN CONTROL WITH NUMBERS SYSTEMS AND

  EQUATIONS. MULTIPLICATION LEFT TO RIGHT. ENOK-KAL FI

  LAR. PROCESSES OF DEFINITION. CONCEPTS OF GIVENS.

  SIXTEEN-NINETEEN. AN-PRELE. PAIN CONTROL MEDITA-

  TION WITH COUNCIL ADEPT. READINGS INCLUDE ESSAYS

  OF DISCIPLINE BY SURAK AND ANALYSIS OF PSEUDODOXY

  BY T'VEEN OF JlA'ANKAHR. LOBE SEGREGATION OF BRAIN.

  "Piper," Merete interrupted patiently, "why are

  you doing this to yourself?. Your becoming an expert

  on Vulcan training won't help Sarda."

  "Won't it?" I countered. "As I understand it, Sarda

  should have already gone through the stage called

  Venlinahr. That's the stage a Vulcan should have fin-

  ished by Sarda's age in Earth years. It's the stage of

  most Vulcan adults, and it's two stages ahead of--

  well, let me show you. Look. Here's the part about the

  Katra. Now just watch."

  With reluctant tension, Merete looked into the

  screen. Its faint blue lights played across her skin.

  TWENTY-TWENTY-FOUR. THE RUNES OF T'VISH, LOGIC

  PARADIGMS. BEHAVIORAL MODIFICATION. MULTiPLICA-

  TION RIGHT TO LEFT, DIAGONAL, AND CROSS-MULTIPLI-

  CATION. ISOLATION OF THE KATRA.

  TWENTY-FIVE-TWENTY-NINE. SELE-AN-T'LEE COMPRISED

  OF LESSONS IN SUBDOMINANT BRAIN ORGANIZATION,

  ADVANCED PHILOSOPHY AND LOGIC, MUSCLE COORDI-

  NATION, AND CONTROL OF WILL. FIVE STEPS. BELIEF DISCI-

  71

  PLINE, REALITY AWARENESS, SENSORY ACUTENESS, VISUAL

  CALCULATION, FACT ANALYSIS. READINGS INCLUDE LOGIC

  AND DEFINITION BY LYRAS, THE INTERIOR BY TAL LUXUR

  OF ROMULUS, EQUATIONS BY SCORUS, SYSTEMS OF LOGIC

  BY SURAK, PURPOSE AS PRIME MOTIVATOR B
Y SURAK.

  ALSO INCLUDES ADVANCED MIND MELD TECHNIQUES.

  "Now, that's where Sarda was when he was trying

  to teach himself the Vulcan controls," I told her.

  "Sele-an-t'lee, he told me. Can you imagine trying to

  do all that by himself? It was probably tearing him

  apart. How was he supposed to learn the techniques

  for advanced mind melding if there was no one to meld

  with? And he was still two stages behind. No, don't

  talk. Read."

  THIRTY-THIRTY-FIVE. NORN-LA-HAL. SUPERIOR CONTROL

  MEDITATION AND NEUROLOGICAL ORGANIZING. IMPOR-

  TANCE OF DIGNITY AND TRADITION IN VULCAN IDENTITY.

  CONTEMPLATIONS OF INFINITY. VENLINAHR. STATE OF

  MOST VULCAN ADULTS. MEDITATION BY INDIVIDUAL DIS-

  CRETION. FURTHER STUDY OF VULCAN DHARMA. AD-

  VANCED READINGS OF THE MYSTAGOGUES SURAK,

  SCORUS, T'ENNE, T'VISH, PRISU, AND SELTAR.

  "See?" I said, tapping the place on the screen with

  one cracked fingernail. "That's when they can relax.

  Venlinahr. That's when they're true Vulcans by their

  own standards. Sarda should have reached that by

  now. Then there's the next one, the real killer."

  "I see it." Merete's voice was funereal. Just as the

  words on the screen were.

  KOLINAHR. FINAL DIVORCE OF THE BRAIN, BODY, AND

  KATRA FROM ALL EMOTIONAL RESPONSES. IF NECESSARY,

  KOLINAHR WILL BE ACCOMPLISHED BY MEMORY ABERRA-

  TION.

  LIST COMPLETE.

  72

  I leaned back. "Computer off."

  The screen went blank. The blue glow was gone,

  fallen off Merete's delicate features like shimmering

  leaves from a scale tree on Proxima. The fleeting

  thought of home gave me no comfort today.

  Neither of us cared to rupture the dangerous silence

  we'd fallen into. Only Merete's calm courage allowed

  her to finally bridge the deepening gap. "Rigorous,"

  she commented, curbing her tone of empathy.

  "Killing," I corrected. "There's no excuse for that.