by James Blish
While Spock disarmed the unconscious men, Kirk leaned over the girl, whom McCoy was still holding silent with grim difficulty.
"Listen, Eleen," Kirk said. "We're leaving. We can leave you behind, if that's what you want. Or you can cooperate and come with us. Maybe, just maybe, we can get you safely to our ship. We offer you the choice. Will you come with us?"
Cautiously, McCoy removed his hand from her mouth, ready to clamp it back down at the slightest intake of breath for a scream. But the girl only glared. At last she said, "I am dishonored. But I wish to live. I will come."
McCoy helped her up by the uninjured arm. She pulled away from him and stood immobile, not deigning to speak further, and waited while Spock distributed the guards' weapons to Kirk and McCoy, retaining a klugat for himself.
"Now," Kirk said, "let's get those phasers and communicators back."
This was not as easy in the doing as in the saying. Outside, the tribesmen were seated around the rebuilt campfire in an open square, the open end of which was occupied solely by Maab, with Keel standing in the background. Kirk and Spock approached the back of Akaar's tent stealthily, slit the fabric, and slipped inside.
While they searched, they heard Maab's voice: ". . . Only the woman lives now. All know her. And it is not only the child that dooms her."
A general rumble of agreement.
Kirk threw back a carpet over a chest. There were the belts with the communicators still on them, but the phasers were gone. Somebody in this crowd, then, knew which was which—another oddity. He and Spock had just begun to look further when there was a mutter of movement and conversation outside, and a second later McCoy's head popped through the slit in the tent fabric.
"Jim," he whispered urgently. "The Council meeting's over. They're going to find out we're gone . . ."
As if in confirmation, there was a shout of alarm in the near distance.
The three men and Eleen stumbled through the scrub until the light from the fire and the torches was the dimmest possible glow in the distance before Kirk chanced calling a halt. Kneeling and motioning the others to cover—what there was of it in this brush—he snapped open his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise . . . Kirk to Enterprise . . . Come in, Scotty . . . Kirk to Enterprise . . ."
There was no answer. Had the device been sabotaged? Kirk held out his hand for Spock's communicator, but that produced no better results.
"They are operative," said the First Officer. "It would appear that the Enterprise is simply out of range."
"Out of range?" McCoy said. "Where would they go?"
"The answer to that would involve a great deal of useless speculation on our part, Doctor, since we have no facts at hand. A better question is, what do we do until the ship returns?"
"No place can hide you from the makeen," the woman said abruptly.
"What are they?" Kirk said. "Or it?"
"There are legends," Spock said, "of a guild of assassins among the Cerean tribes—a secret society, outside the law."
"They are not outside the law," Eleen said. "They are a part of our society. Certain deaths are always—necessary."
"Criminals like us?" Kirk said. "And 'traitors' like your husband? And you?"
"Not me," Eleen said. Her voice was angry, harsh, bitter. "It is because I bear Akaar's child. I did not want it. I would kill it myself, if that would save me."
McCoy took her by the wrist, and his own voice was just as angry. "You listen to me, Missy. You're not killing anything while I'm here to prevent it. We intend to keep both you and your baby alive, whether you want it or not. Hear me?"
She twisted herself free, her face contorted with anger and loathing. "You are heard. And I come with you because you will give me a few more hours to live. But in the end you will not escape the makeen."
"Maybe not," Kirk said. "But we sure in blazes are going to try."
By the first wash of daybreak there were ample signs that they were being followed. Kirk was almost sorry to see the intimations of dawn, for at night he had at least been able to guess how far ahead they were of their pursuers by the distant sparks of torches.
The light found them in rocky country, the foothills of a mountain range. It was chill and desolate, even in the pale gold of early sunlight. The trail they were following seemed to wander aimlessly; Kirk could only hope that this was because it was following the contours of the land, rather than being simply an animal trail.
He and Spock led the way, with Eleen close behind. As bulky as her physical condition made her, she was surprisingly fresh and strong; McCoy, puffing along behind her, looked more the worse for wear than she did.
But the day grew hotter, the slopes steeper, the footing strewn with slippery shale and broken rock. At last Eleen stumbled and would have fallen had McCoy not caught her. She still had the energy to break free of him, however.
"Stay here with her and let her rest, Bones," Kirk said. "We're going to look around. While you're waiting, treat that arm—by force, if necessary."
He moved off with Spock. Shortly, they found the trail entering the narrow mouth of a steep defile. The slopes were shale-strewn and very high.
"Nice place to get trapped in," Kirk said.
"It has advantages as well, Captain. A defensible entrance, and walls that provide difficult access for attackers."
"That may be. At least there also seems to be a way out. If we could block this entrance, that would hold them up; they'd have to go around, over the hills."
Spock's eyebrows went up. He looked about speculatively. "The entrance is narrow enough, and there seems to be enough loose rock."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Do you remember our discussion of the kinds of weapons that might be made with a communicator in an emergency? In this instance, I think the device I called a 'sound bomb' might be in order." Kirk promptly handed Spock his communicator, but the First Officer shook his head. "Captain, it's only a chance. I would have to phase two communicator signals into exact synchronization. We only have three. The odds . . ."
"I'm not interested in the exact odds—only in lowering them. I'll go get McCoy's communicator."
He went back. He found Eleen's arm bandaged. He shook hands with himself at McCoy with approval, but McCoy was frowning.
"Jim, she says the baby isn't due until next week, but as far as I can tell with the few instruments I have, it's due now."
"Oh, brrrotherrr. Well, you've doubtless delivered plenty of babies."
"Sure. But the Cereans have been away from Earth a long time, and they've developed some differences from the basic humanoid stock—a process called 'genetic drift' that's common in small, inbred populations. And if surgical intervention's necessary . . ."
"We may not live long enough to worry about it. Give me your communicator, Bones, and come along. We're planning a surprise."
Spock worked quickly, explaining to McCoy as he went along. "I have placed these so the sound beams they put out will meet and focus on a weak point, a potential slide area. The phased beams should set up a vibration in the rocks, beneath the loose material. There the rock is cohesive enough so that the vibration should build to the equivalent of explosive force."
"And the whole thing," Kirk said, "will end up in Maab's lap. We hope."
"Theoretically, if the loose rock does not slide away too soon and allow the sound energy to escape as heat. In either event it will destroy the communicators."
Kirk glanced back. Tiny figures were on the horizon. Their pace obviously had picked up. These tribesmen were like bloodhounds, and the track was fresh.
"Let's go." Kirk and Spock twisted the dials of the two communicators. The dull black little instruments each began to emit a hum which rose quickly in pitch to an earsplitting screech. Hastily, the party ran up the trail into the defile.
A glance back showed that their harriers were also running. The sound had located their quarry for them.
The rising sounds merged into one intolerable note. El
een clutched at her head, then at her belly. McCoy grabbed her around the waist, kept her moving.
The screaming note was joined by a groaning rumble of rock shaking free of its moorings. Suddenly, the screaming wail was gone, leaving a silence which only seemed underlined by the moan of protesting rock.
Then came the explosion, the confined energy bursting out of the cliffside as though an actual charge had been planted there. The rocks crumbled and fell apart, their grumbling rising to a thunder as the shale and dirt smashed down the slope.
Maab, Keel and their party were almost in the defile. They looked up as the rock slide bore down on them. After a split second of frozen terror, they wheeled and scattered like a flight of pigeons. But some of them were caught, all the same.
And in the end, the entrance to the defile was gone. Instead, there was only a massive heap of shale, boulders and dirt.
"Very nice, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, when he could hear again. "Now, we'd better push on. There's still the problem of food and water . . ."
"Not a chance, Jim," McCoy said. "We might carry Eleen—but not very far. She's started labor."
Since they had no choice, they did carry her out the other end of the defile; they did not want the makeens to return the favor by dropping rocks on them from above. At the exit, the country opened out a little, and off to the right some green shrub growth and contorted young trees indicated the possible presence of water.
Kirk looked up the slopes. A peculiar formation caught his eye: several huge boulders tumbled together, with a narrow, dark opening just visible between them. Kirk pointed.
"We might take shelter under those rocks. It's probably the best we can do on such short notice. Spock, stay here while we take her up and stand guard."
The First Officer nodded, and unhooking the klugat he had taken from the guard, twirled it experimentally.
The hole proved to be a genuine cave. The entrance was low, but inside the roof was high enough to permit them to stand erect. It was far from spacious, however. The walls were rough and pitted, and the floor sloped. Eleen lowered her bulky body and sat huddled in pain.
"Even eighteenth-century surgeons had more to work with than this," McCoy said, "but I guess beggars can't be choosers."
"We'll be outside if you need help."
"Don't make any rash offers."
Kirk went outside to find Spock experimenting with the klugat. "A most unusual weapon," the First Officer said. "Observe that the cutting edge is along the inside. If you throw it with a snap of the wrist, thus . . ."
The whirling knife spun in flight, its silver blades flashing. It sliced into a low bush and nearly cut it free of the ground before becoming entangled.
"And if you miss, it comes back to the owner," Spock said, retrieving the weapon. "A nice instance of economy."
"We'll need the economy. We've only got two. I'm more interested in those saplings. They look resilient. We might make bows and arrows—if we only had something to use for bowstrings."
"Hmm," Spock said. "A very pretty problem. I see nothing that would serve. But Captain, I suggest that an even more primitive weapon might serve our purposes: a throwing-stick."
"What in blazes is that?"
"It consists of a grooved handle with a cupped end. The arrow is fitted into the groove with the arrowhead toward the hand and the feathered end in the cup. You swing the throwing-stick overhand, and the arrow leaves it with considerable force, on the lever principle."
"There's plenty of flint here for arrowheads," Kirk said thoughtfully. "But we have nothing to use for feathers."
"True. However, if we notch the end of the arrow and tie on a length of rag, that may afford some stabilization, on the principle of a kite's tail. And may I point out, Captain, that the only missile weapon possessed by the Cereans is this klugat, which has a range limit built into it by the very fact that it is designed to return to the thrower. Our arrows will fly somewhat farther—and will, of course, be quite unfamiliar to the Cereans. These advantages are small, but they may be all we have."
"You're right, Mr. Spock. Let's get to work."
As they climbed toward the cave, a cry of pain came from it.
They were practicing with the throwing-sticks when McCoy at last appeared at the cave entrance, mopping his hands. "Come on in," he said.
Eleen lay in a shadowed corner. Her light cloak was her only bed; the lower half of her long tunic had been torn off to provide a blanket for the small bundle lying beside her. She propped herself up as the men entered, but made no protest as Kirk and Spock peered down at the bundle.
Tiny fists that resembled minute starfish wriggled aimlessly. The baby yawned into Kirk's face, seeming to suggest that the whole thing had been a snap, and all McCoy's worries had been needless.
"It seems a rather average specimen on the whole," Spock said.
"You think so, Spock?" McCoy said tiredly. "Well, look again. That is the High Chief of the ten tribes of Ceres."
He picked up the baby and put it in its mother's arms. The woman took it, passively, but she said, "I do not want it."
"He's your son," Kirk said.
"I did not wish it. It was good to become wife to Akaar. He was High Chief and had wealth. I thought because he was old and already had a son . . ."
"I don't care why you married Teer Akaar," Kirk interrupted harshly. "You did, and you bore his son, who is now the High Chief. You're bound by honor and position to care for him as long as you live. That's your tradition as well as ours, and I'll enforce it if I have to. Bones, how soon can she travel?"
"All these Cereans seem to have remarkable stamina, and I'd say this one is strong as an ox, even now. We might be able to move as soon as tomorrow."
"If so," Spock said, "I suggest that we climb the ridge behind us when we leave, and move cross-country. It will be difficult, but I believe safer."
Kirk thought about this. Maab might well have figured that they would follow the defile all the way, because of the woman. Or he might even already be moving in on them from the other end.
"Even odds," he said "We'll try it. But first, let's get some sleep. McCoy, you need the rest most; you'll stand last guard. I'll take the first."
He awoke to hear McCoy's voice calling his name and feeling his shoulder being shaken. As he sat up, McCoy was already leaving his side to rouse the sleeping Spock.
"Wake up, Spock. Jim, we're in more trouble. My, uh, patient has taken the child and gone."
"She got past you?" Kirk said.
"She struck me from behind with a rock. We've got to have more respect for the medical profession around here."
"How long has she been gone?"
"By the sun, I was out no more than half an hour. Her trail leads toward the defile exit. If Maab's men catch her . . ."
"I suggest," Spock said, "that henceforth we leave the matter to tribal justice, and devote ourselves to our own survival."
"Why, you ice-hearted, unfeeling . . ."
"The lady is not honorable, or charitable, or cooperative, or of much total worth," Spock said. "Even you can see that, Doctor."
"Yes? And what about the baby?"
"You both have a point," Kirk said. "Granted that the lady has few shining virtues. But the baby has done nothing but come into this world. I'd like to see him get a chance to grow up in it. Let's get going."
They moved cautiously along the defile, keeping as high up on the slopes as the footing would allow. At the exit, they came upon an astonishing scene.
The assassins, or all that had survived the rock slide, were all there, and so was Eleen. Most of the men were staring at her in amazement, and small wonder, for she was holding out the child to Maab.
"I have the child, Maab," she said, her voice distant but clear. "He is yours. Do as you will."
Keel and Maab looked at each other. At last Maab said, "Why?"
"I claim nothing but my life. Take the child, Maab—but let me go free. I care not for him."
Fi
nally Maab nodded. When he spoke, his voice was sarcastic. "It is much like you, Eleen. Come with us."
At this point, Kirk rose from cover and swung the throwing-stick, then fell flat again in the brush. No one saw him. The arrow cut through the air straight at Maab, its rag tail fluttering, and at the last minute veering and hitting another man in the leg. Evidently feathers were much better for arrows than tails were. The struck man fell, with a cry as much of surprise as of pain.
Everyone turned toward him. Spock popped up from behind a rock and threw, then also vanished. The arrow winged Keel; a red stain began to spread on his sleeve.
McCoy now appeared suddenly on the trail, just behind Eleen. Grabbing her from behind, he dragged her screaming to cover. The assassins were now beginning to realize what had happened, and made an abortive move after McCoy, but a scatter of arrows from Kirk and Spock threw them into confusion. The volume of fire was, tactically, not nearly great enough to produce such an effect; evidently Spock's guess about the effect on morale of the unfamiliarity of the weapons had been correct.
"Bones, get out of there!" Kirk shouted. "General retreat!"
He ducked as Keel threw a klugat at him. The vicious scything blades slashed the air whisperingly over his head. Below, McCoy, dragging Eleen, made his way up the slope from cover to cover. Kirk slipped to another rock, rose, and threw again, and this time was rewarded with a full-throated scream. He was getting the hang of the thing.
They moved backward slowly, covering for Eleen, hampered by the baby. As they went, Spock picked up the klugat Keel had thrown, which had been blocked from boomeranging by a boulder. Oddly, the makeen were no longer following.
Back inside the more defensible defile walls, the Enterprise men paused to assess the situation. They were nicely trapped—and the arrows were running out.
"What did you think you were going to do?" McCoy said, glaring at Eleen.
"You heard," she said coldly. "I would trade my life. Maab will let me go—to get the child."
"Oh? Aren't you overlooking something? We were close enough behind you to surprise Maab. It might even have looked to him like you were bait for a trap. He won't trust you again, Missy—if he ever did. He'll kill you both, just to be sure."
