Star Trek 09

by James Blish

  "Aye, sir."

  Kirk sat down at the table. "Reports. Mr. Spock?"

  "The multitronic unit is drawing more and more power from the warp engines, sir. It is controlling all navigation, all helm and engineering functions."

  "And communications," said McCoy. "And fire control."

  Kirk nodded. "We'll reach rendezvous point for the war games within an hour. We must regain control of the ship before then. Scotty, is there any way to get at the M-5?"

  "Use a phaser!" said McCoy.

  Scott said, "We can't crack the force field it's put up around itself. It's got the power of the warp engines to sustain it. No matter what we throw against it, it can reinforce itself by simply pulling more power."

  "All right," Kirk said. "The computer controls helm, navigation, and engineering. Is there anywhere we can get at them and take control away?"

  Scott's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "One possibility. The automatic helm-navigation circuit relays might be disrupted from Engineering Level 3."

  Spock said, "You could take them out and cut into the manual override from there."

  "How long?" Kirk said.

  "If Mr. Spock will help me . . . maybe an hour."

  "Make it less," Kirk said.

  McCoy leaned toward him. "Why don't you tackle the real responsibility for this? Where is Daystrom?"

  "With the M-5 . . . just watching it. I think it surprised even him."

  "Then he is an illogical man," Spock said. "Of all people, he should have known how the unit would perform. However, the M-5 itself does not behave logically."

  McCoy spoke feelingly. "Spock, do me a favor. Please don't say it's 'fascinating'."

  "No, Doctor," Spock said. "But it is quite interesting."

  On Engineering Level 3, the Jeffries tube that held the helm-navigation circuit relays was dark and narrow. Two panels opened into each side of it; and Spock and Scott, making themselves as small as possible, had squeezed into the outlets, miniature disruptors in their hands. Outside the tube, Daystrom, oblivious of all but his computer, was maintaining a cautious distance from the force field. But he could not control his satisfaction at the glow and pulsation that emanated from the M-5. McCoy, entering silently, studied the man. Becoming aware of the scrutiny, Daystrom turned.

  McCoy said, "Have you found a way to turn that thing off?"

  Daystrom's eyes blazed. "You don't turn a child off when it makes a mistake."

  "Are you comparing that murderous hunk of metal to a child?"

  "You are very emotional, Dr. McCoy. M-5 is growing, learning."

  "Learning to kill."

  "To defend itself—an entirely different thing. It is learning. That force field, spontaneously created, exceeds my parental programming."

  "You mean it's out of control," McCoy said.

  "A child, sir, is taught—programmed, so to speak—with simple instructions. As its mind develops, it exceeds its instructions and begins to think independently."

  "Have you ever fathered a child?"

  "I've never had the time," Daystrom said.

  "You should have taken it. Daystrom, your offspring is a danger to all of us. It is a delinquent. You've got to shut it off."

  Daystrom stared at him. "You simply do not understand. You're frightened because you can't understand. I'm going to show you—all of you. It takes 430 people to run a Starship. This—child of mine can run one alone!" He glowed with pride. "It can do everything they must now send men out to do! No man need die out in space again! No man need feel himself alone again in an alien world!"

  "Do you feel alone in an alien world?" McCoy asked.

  But Daystrom was transported into some ideal realm of paradisical revelation. "One machine—one machine!" he cried. "And able to conquer research and contact missions far more efficiently than a Starship's human crew . . . to fight a war, if necessary. Don't you see what freedom it gives to men? They can get on with more magnificent achievements than fact-gathering, exploring a space that doesn't care whether they live or die!"

  He looked away from McCoy to speak directly to the M-5.

  "They can't understand us," he said gently. "They think we want to destroy whereas we came to save, didn't we?"

  McCoy made a quick call in Sickbay before he returned to the Briefing Room. There, he tossed a tape cartridge on the table before Kirk. "Biographical information on John Daystrom," he said.

  "What are you looking for?"

  "A clue, Jim, any clue. What do you know about him—aside from the fact he's a genius?"

  "Genius is an understatement, Bones. When he was twenty-four, he made the duotronic breakthrough that won the Nobel and Z-Magnees Prizes."

  "In his early twenties, Jim. Over a quarter of a century ago."

  "Hasn't he done enough for a lifetime?"

  "Maybe that's the trouble. Where do you go from up? You lecture, you publish—and spend the rest of your life trying to recapture the past glory."

  "All right, it's difficult. But what's your point?"

  "Models M-l through M-4, remember? 'Not entirely successful' was how Daystrom put it."

  "Genius doesn't work on an assembly-line basis. You don't evoke a unique and revolutionary theory by schedule. You can't say, 'I will be brilliant today.' However long it took, Daystrom came up with multitronics . . . the M-5."

  "Right. And the government bought it. Then Daystrom had to make it work. And he did . . . but in Spock's words, it works 'illogically'. It is an erratic."

  "Yes," Kirk mused. "And Daystrom wouldn't let Spock near the M-5. Are you suggesting he's tampering with it . . . making it do all this? Why?"

  "If a man has a child who's gone anti-social, he still tends to protect the child."

  "Now he's got you thinking of that machine as a personality."

  "It's how he thinks of it," McCoy said.

  The intercom beeped and Spock said, "Spock to Captain Kirk."

  "Kirk here."

  "We're ready, Captain."

  "On my way. Get Daystrom. Kirk out."

  Spock was shinnying down out of the Jeffries tube as they approached. He nodded up at the dark narrowness. "Mr. Scott is ready to apply the circuit disrupter. As he does so, I shall trip the manual override into control."

  Kirk nodded. Spock began his crawl back into the tube. Daystrom's face had congested with blood. "You can't take control from the M-5!"

  Kirk said, "We are going to try very hard, Daystrom.

  "No! No, you can't! You must not! Give me time, please! Let me work with it!" He leaped at the tube, trying to scramble into it, pulling at Spock's long legs. Kirk and McCoy seized him. His muscle was all in his head. It wasn't hard to subdue him. "Daystrom! Behave yourself!" Kirk cried. "Go ahead, Spock!"

  In the tube Scott was sweating as he struggled with his tool. His voice came down to them, muffled but distinct. "There it goes!"

  Spock, making some hasty adjustments, looked around and down at Kirk's anxious face—and came closer to smiling than anyone had ever seen him come. He slid down and out of the tube. "Manual override is in effect again, Captain."

  Daystrom had furiously pulled away from Kirk's grasp. He released him and, crossing to an intercom, activated it. "Kirk to bridge. Helm."

  "Lieutenant Sulu here, sir."

  "Mr. Sulu, we have recovered helm and navigation control. Turn us about. Have Mr. Chekov plot a course back to the space station."

  "Right away, sir."

  In the bridge, he grinned at Chekov. "You heard him."

  "I've had that course plotted for hours."

  But when Sulu attempted to work his controls, they were limp in his hands. His smile faded. And in his turn, Chekov shook his head. "Nothing," he said. Sulu hit the intercom button. "Helm to Captain Kirk!"

  Kirk swung at the alarm in the voice. "Kirk here."

  "Captain, helm does not respond. Navigational controls still locked in by M-5."

  Daystrom gave a soft chuckle. Spock, hearing it, made a leap back into t
he tube. Examining the circuits inside it, he shook his head somberly and descended again. Clear of it, he went directly to the intercom.

  "Spock to bridge," he said. "Mr. Chekov, go to Engineering station. Examine the H-279 elements . . . also the G-95 system."

  Chekov's filtered voice finally came. "Sir, the G-95 system appears dead. All indicators are dark."

  "Thank you, Ensign." He turned to the others. "We were doing what used to be called chasing a wild goose. M-5 rerouted helm and navigational control by bypassing the primary system."

  Scott cried. "But it was active! I'd stake my life on it!"

  Spock said, "It was when the M-5 detected our efforts that it rerouted the control systems. It kept this one apparently active by a simple electronic impulse sent through at regular intervals."

  "Decoyed!" McCoy shouted. "It wanted us to waste our time here!"

  "While it was getting ready for what?" Kirk said. "Spock?"

  "I do not know, sir. It does not function in a logical manner."

  Kirk whirled. "Daystrom, I want an answer and I want it right now! I'm tired of hearing the M-5 called a 'whole new approach'. What is it? Exactly what is it? It's clearly not 'just a computer'!"

  "No," Spock said. "It performs with almost human behavior patterns."

  "Well, Daystrom?"

  Daystrom ignored Kirk. "Quite right, Mr. Spock. You see, one of the arguments against computer control of ships is that they can't think like men. But M-5 can. I hoped . . . I wasn't sure—but it does work!"

  "The 'new approach,' " Kirk said.

  "Exactly. I have developed a method of impressing human engrams upon computer circuits. The relays correspond to the synapses of the brain. M-5 thinks, Captain Kirk."

  Uhura's voice broke in, urgent, demanding. "Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock to the bridge, please. The bridge, please."

  Kirk jumped for the intercom. "Kirk here. What is it, Lieutenant?"

  "Sensors are picking up four Federation Starships, sir. M-5 is changing course to intercept."

  The red alert flashed into shrieking sirens and crimson lights. Kirk turned, his face ashen.

  "The main attack force . . . the war games."

  "But M-5 doesn't know a game from the reality."

  "Correction, Bones," Kirk said. "Those four ships don't know it is M-5's game. So M-5 is going to destroy them."

  Uhura's forehead was damp with sweat. "Enterpise to U.S.S. Lexington. Come in, Lexington! Come in, please."

  She waited. And as she waited, she knew she was waiting in vain. It was a good thing a Starship had a man for a Captain—a man like Kirk. Otherwise a girl on her own could get the screaming meemies. She looked at Kirk. "I can't raise them, sir. M-5 is still blocking all frequencies—even automatic distress."

  Kirk smiled at her. "Easy does it, Lieutenant." Heartened, she turned back to her board, saw a change on it, and checked it swiftly. "Captain, audio signal from the Lexington."

  "Let's hear it," Kirk said.

  Wesley's voice crackled in. "Enterprise from U.S.S. Lexington. This is an M-5 drill. Repeat. This is an M-5 drill. Acknowledge."

  Uhura cried, "Captain! The M-5 is acknowledging!"

  Kirk ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Daystrom—Daystrom, does M-5 understand this is only a drill?"

  "Of course," was his brisk answer. "M-5 has been programmed to understand. The ore ship was a miscalculation, an accident. There is no—"

  Chekov interrupted. "Sir, deflector shields just came on. Speed increasing to Warp 4."

  Sulu said, "Phasers locked on the lead ship, sir. Power levels at full strength."

  "Full strength!" McCoy yelled. "If that thing cuts loose against unshielded ships—"

  "That won't be a minor miscalculation, Daystrom. The word accident won't apply." Kirk's voice was icy with contempt.

  Spock called from his station. "Attack force closing rapidly. Distance to lead ship 200,000 kilometers . . . attackers breaking formation . . . attacking at will."

  "Our phasers are firing, sir!" Sulu shouted.

  They struck the Excalibur a direct hit. Their high warp speed was closing them in on the Lexington. Chekov, looking up from his board, reported, "The Hood and the Potemkin are moving off, sir."

  Their phasers fired again and Spock said, "The Lexington. We struck her again, sir."

  Kirk slammed out of his chair to confront Day-strom. "We must get to the M-51" he shouted. "There has to be a way!"

  "There isn't," Daystrom said. Equably, he added, "It has fully protected itself."

  Spock intervened. That's probably true, Captain. It thinks faster than we do. It is a human mind amplified by the instantaneous relays possible to a computer."

  "I built it, Kirk," Daystrom said. "And I know you can't get at it."

  Uhura's agitated voice broke in. "Sir . . . visual contact with Lexington. They're signaling." She pushed a switch without order; and all eyes fixed on the viewing screen. It gave them an image of a disheveled Wesley on his bridge. Behind him people were assisting the wounded to their feet, arms around bent shoulders. One side of Wesley's command chair was smoking. Shards of glass littered the bridge floor. "Enterpriser Wesley said. "Jim? Have you gone mad? Break off your attack! What are you trying to prove? My God, man, we have fifty-three dead here! Twelve on the Excalibur! If you can hear us, stop this attack!"

  Kirk looked away from the screen. "Lieutenant?" he said.

  Uhura tried her board again. "No, sir. I can't override the M-5 interference."

  There was an undertone of a wail in Wesley's voice. "Jim, why don't you answer? Jim, for God's sake, answer! Jim, come in . . ."

  Kirk swung on Daystrom; and pointing to the screen, his voice shaking, cried, "There's your murder charge, Daystrom! And this one was calculated, deliberate! It's murdering men and women, Daystrom! Four Starships . . . over sixteen hundred people!"

  Daystrom's eyes cringed. "It misunderstood. It—"

  Chekov cut in. "Excalibur is maneuvering away, sir. We are increasing speed to follow."

  Sulu turned, horror in his face. "Phasers locked on, Captain." Then, he added dully, "Phasers firing."

  The screen showed Excalibur shuddering away from direct hits by the phaser beams. Battered, listing, powerless, she drifted, a wreck, across the screen.

  Spock spoke. "Dr. Daystrom . . . you impressed human engrams upon the M-5's circuits, did you not?"

  Chekov made his new report very quietly. "Coming to new course," he said. "To bear on the Potemkin, sir."

  On the screen the lethal beams streaking out from the Enterprise phasers caught the Potemkin amidships. Over the battle reports, Spock persisted. "Whose engrams, Dr. Daystrom?"

  "Why . . . mine, of course."

  "Of course," McCoy said acidly.

  Spock said, "Then perhaps you could talk to the unit. M-5 has no reason to 'think' you would harm it."

  Kirk seized upon the suggestion. "The computer tie-in. M-5 does have a voice. You spoke to it before. It knows you, Daystrom."

  Uhura, breaking in, said, "I'm getting the Lexington again, Captain . . . tapping in on a message to Starfleet Command. The screen, sir."

  Wesley's image spoke from it. "All ships damaged in unprovoked attack . . . Excalibur Captain Harris and First Officer dead . . . many casualties . . . we have damage but are able to maneuver. Enterprise refuses to answer and is continuing attack. I still have an effective battle force and believe the only way to stop Enterprise is to destroy her. Request permission to proceed. Wesley commanding attack force out."

  The screen went dark.

  Daystrom whispered, "They can't do that. They'll destroy the M-5."

  "Talk to it!" Kirk said. "You can save it if you make it stop the attack!"

  Daystrom nodded. "I can make it stop. I created it." He moved over to the library-computer; and McCoy came up to Kirk. "I don't like the sound of him, Jim."

  Kirk, getting up from his chair, said, "Just pray the M-5 likes the sound of him, Bones." He went to the libr
ary-computer, watching as Daystrom, still hesitant, activated a switch.

  "M-5 tie-in," he said. "This—this is Daystrom."

  The computer voice responded. "M-5. Daystrom acknowledged."

  "M-5 tie-in. Do you . . . know me?"

  "M-5. Daystrom, John. Originator of comptronic, duotronic systems. Born—"

  "Stop. M-5 tie-in. Your components are of the multi-tronic system, designed by me, John Daystrom."

  "M-5. Correct."

  "M-5 tie-in. Your attack on the Starship flotilla is wrong. You must break it off."

  "M-5. Programming includes protection against attack. Enemy vessels must be neutralized."

  "M-5 tie-in. These are not enemy vessels. They are Federation Starships." Daystrom's voice wavered. "You . . . we . . . are killing, murdering human beings. Beings of your creator's kind. That was not your purpose. You are my greatest invention—the unit that would save men. You must not destroy men."

  "M-5. This unit must survive."

  "Yes, survive, protect yourself. But not murder. You must not die; but men must not die. To kill is a breaking of civil and moral laws we have lived by for thousands of years. You have murdered over a hundred people . . . we have. How can we atone for that?"

  Kirk lowered his voice. "Spock . . . M-5 isn't responding like a computer. It's talking to him,"

  "The technology is most impressive, sir. Dr. Daystrom has created a mirror image of his own mind."

  Daystrom's voice had sunk to a half-confidential, half-pleading level. It was clear now that he was talking to himself. "We will survive because nothing can hurt you . . . not from the outside and not from within. I gave you that. If you are great, I am great . . . not a failure any more. Twenty years of groping to prove the things I had done before were not accidents."

  Hate had begun to embitter his words. ". . . having other men wonder what happened to me . . . having them sorry for me as a broken promise—seminars, lectures to rows of fools who couldn't begin to understand my systems—who couldn't create themselves. And colleagues . . . colleagues who laughed behind my back at the 'boy wonder' and became famous building on my work."

  McCoy spoke quietly to Kirk. "Jim, he's on the edge of breakdown, if not insanity."