by James Blish
"Forty-eight hours, maybe, with a bit of luck. It all ought to be platinum, ye see, and I've not got enough, so I'll have to patch in with gold, which won't bear the pressure long . . ."
"Get together what you need and beam down here with it."
Kirk put away the communicator and bent upon Vanderberg a look of deep suspicion. "Mr. Vanderberg, I have to tell you that I don't like the way these coincidences are mounting up. How could some hypothetical monster attack precisely the one mechanism in an almost ancient reactor which would create a double crisis like this? And how would it happen to be carrying around with it a mixture of acids precisely calculated to dissolve even platinum—and also human flesh?"
"I don't know," Vanderberg said helplessly. "You suspect sabotage? Impossible. Besides, Ed Appel saw the monster."
"He says."
"Ed's been my production chief almost throughout my entire career. I'd trust him with my life. And besides, what would be his motive? Look, dammit, Kirk, my people are being murdered! This is no time for fantasies about spies! The thing is there, it's free, it's just shut us down right under your nose! Why in God's name don't you do something?"
"Captain," Spock's voice said from behind them. "Will you come out and look at this, please?"
Kirk went out into the main tunnel to find the First Officer contemplating a side branch. "This is most curious," he said. "This tunnel is not indicated on any of the charts we were provided. It simply was not there before."
"Too recent to be on the maps, maybe?"
"Yes, but how did it get here, Captain? It shows no signs of having been drilled."
Kirk looked closer. "That's so. And the edges are fused. Could it be a lava tube?"
"That seems most unlikely," Spock said. "Had there been any vulcanism on this level since we arrived, everybody would be aware of it. And it joins a charted tunnel back there about fifty yards."
"Hmm. Let's go back to the ship. I feel the need for a conference."
Spock brought with him into the briefing room of the Enterprise one of the strange spherical objects Vanderberg had called silicon nodules, and set it on the table. Then he sat down and stared into it, looking incongruously like a fortune-teller in uniform.
"I think it's mass hysteria," McCoy said.
"Hysteria?" Kirk said. "Dozens of people have been killed."
"Some—natural cause. A phenomenon—and people have dreamed up a mysterious monster to account for it."
Spock stirred. "Surely, Doctor. A natural cause. But not hysteria."
"All right. You asked my opinion. I gave it to you. How do I know? Maybe there is some kind of a monster . . ."
"No creature is monstrous in its own environment, Doctor. And this one appears to be intelligent, as well."
"What makes you think so?"
"The missing pump was not taken by accident," Spock said. "It was the one piece of equipment absolutely essential to the operation of the reactor."
Kirk looked at his First Officer. "You think this creature is trying to drive the colonists off the planet?"
"It seems logical."
"Why just now, Mr. Spock? This production facility was established here fifty years ago."
"I do not know, sir." Spock resumed staring at the round object. "But it is perhaps indicative that Mr. Appel claimed to have hit it with his phaser. He strikes me as a capable but unimaginative man. If he said he hit it, I tend to believe he did. Why was the creature not affected? I have a suggestion, though Dr. McCoy will accuse me of creating fantasies."
"You?" McCoy said. "I doubt it."
"Very well. To begin with, the colonists are equipped only with phaser number one, no need for the more powerful model having been encountered. This instrument, when set to kill, coagulates proteins, which are carbon-based compounds. Suppose this creature's 'organic' compounds are based on silicon instead?"
"Now surely that is a fantasy," Kirk said.
"No, it's possible," McCoy said. "Silicon has the same valence as carbon, and a number of simple silicoid 'organics' have been known for a long time. And by the stars, it explains the acids, too. We have hydrochloric acid in our own stomachs, after all. But we're mostly water. Silicon isn't water-soluble, so the aqua regia may be the substrate of the creature's bloodstream. And the hydrofluoric—well, fluorine has an especial affiinity for silicon; the result is teflon, which may be what the creature's internal tubing is made of."
"Do you mean to imply," Kirk said slowly, "that this being goes about killing men with its own blood?"
"Not necessarily, Jim. It may spit the stuff—and sweat it, too, for all I know. Its tunneling suggests that it does."
"Hmm. It also suggests that it would have to have a form of natural armor plating. But our people have phasers number two, and I defy anything to stand up against that at high power, no matter what it's made of. The question is, how do we locate it?"
"I would suggest," Spock said, "that we start at whatever level these silicon nodules were found."
"Why? How do they tie in?"
"Pure speculation, Captain. But it would be helpful if it were confirmed."
"Very well, assemble security forces. I assume that Mr. Scott is already at work on the reactor? Very good, we'll assemble in Vanderberg's office."
"You will each be given a complete chart of all tunnels and diggings under this installation," Kirk told his forces. "You will proceed from level to level, checking out every foot of opening. You will be searching for some variety of creature which apparently is highly resistant to phaser fire, so have your phasers set on maximum. And remember this—fifty people have already been killed. I want no more deaths . . ."
"Except the bloody thing!" Vanderberg exploded.
Kirk nodded. "The creature may or may not attack on sight. However, you must. A great deal depends on getting this installation back into production."
"Mr. Vanderberg," Spock said, "may I ask at which level you discovered the nodules of silicon?"
"The twenty-third. Why?"
"Commander Giotto," Kirk said, "you will take your detail directly to the twenty-third level and start your search from there. Mr. Vanderberg, I want all of your people to stay on the top level. Together. In a safe place."
"I don't know any safe place, Captain. The way this thing comes and goes . . ."
"We'll see what we can do about that. All right, gentlemen. You have your instructions. Let's get at it."
Spock, Kirk, Giotto and two security guards paused on the twenty-third level while Spock adjusted his tricorder. Most of Giotto's men had already fanned out through the tunnels. Kirk pointed to a spot on Giotto's map.
"We are here. You and your guards take this tunnel, which is the only one of this complex that doesn't already have men in it. As you see, they converge up ahead. We'll rendezvous at that point."
"Aye aye, sir." The three disappeared into the darkness. Spock continued to scan.
"A strange sensation," the First Officer said. "There are men all about us, and yet because the tricorder is now set for silicon life, it says we are alone down here. No, not quite."
"Traces?"
"A great many—but they are all extremely old. Many thousands of years old. Yet, again, there are many brand new tunnels down here. It does not relate."
"Perhaps it does," Kirk said thoughtfully. "Not tunnels. Not lava tubes. Highways. Roads. Thoroughfares. Mr. Spock, give me an environmental reading, for a thousand yards in any direction."
"Yes, sir—ah. A life-form. Bearing, one hundred eleven degrees, angle of elevation four degrees."
"Not one of our people?"
"No, sir, they would not register."
"Come on!"
They set off quickly, keeping as close on the bearing as the convolutions of the tunnels would allow. Then, ahead, someone screamed—or tried to, for the sound was suddenly cut off. They ran.
A moment later they were looking at a small, blackened lump on the tunnel floor, with a phaser beside it Grimly, Spock picked up the weapon
and checked it.
"One of the guards," he said. "He did not have a chance to fire, Captain."
"And it's only been seconds since we heard him scream . . ."
There was a slithering sound behind them. They whirled together.
In the darkness it was difficult to make out details, except for movement, an undulating crawl forward. The creature was large, low to the ground, somehow worm-like. It was now making another noise, a menacing rattle, like pebbles being shaken in a tin can.
"Look out!" Kirk shouted. "It's charging!"
Both men fired. The monster swung around as the two phaser beams struck its side. With an agonized roar, it leapt backward and vanished.
"After it!"
But the tunnel was empty. It was astonishing that anything of that bulk could move so rapidly. Kirk reached out to touch the wall of the tunnel, then snatched his hand back.
"Mr. Spock! These walls are hot."
"Indeed, Captain. The tricorder says it was cut within the last two minutes."
Kirk heard running footsteps, and then Giotto and a guard, phasers at the ready, appeared behind them.
"Are you all right, Captain? That scream . . ."
"Perfectly, Commander. But one of your men . . ."
"Yes, I saw. Poor Kelly. Did you see the thing, sir?"
"We saw it. In fact, we took a bite out of it."
Spock bent over, then straightened with a large chunk of something in his hand. "And here it is, Captain."
He handed the stuff to Kirk, who examined it closely. Clearly, it was not animal tissue; it looked more like fibrous asbestos. Obviously, Spock's guess had been right.
"Commander Giotto, it looks as though killing this thing will require massed phasers—or a single phaser with much longer contact. Pass the word to your men. And another thing. We already knew it was a killer. Now it's wounded—probably in pain—back in there somewhere. There's nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal. Keep that in mind."
"The creature is moving rapidly through native rock at bearing two hundred one, eleven hundred yards, elevation angle five degrees," Spock said.
"Right." Giotto and the guard went out, and Kirk started to follow them, but Spock remained standing where he was, looking pensive. Kirk said, "What's troubling you, Mr. Spock?"
"Captain, there are literally hundreds of these tunnels in this general area alone. Far too many to be cut by the one creature in an ordinary lifetime."
"We don't know how long it lives."
"No, sir, but its speed of movement indicates a high metabolic rate. That is not compatible with a lifetime much longer than ours."
"Perhaps not," Kirk said. "I fail to see what bearing that has on our problem."
"I mention it, Captain, because if this is the only survivor of a dead race, to kill it would be a crime against science."
"Our concern is the protection of this colony, Mr. Spock. And to get pergium production moving again. This is not a zoological expedition."
"Quite so, Captain. Still . . ."
"Keep your tricorder active. Maintain a constant reading on the creature. We'll try to use the existing tunnels to cut it off. If we have to, we'll use our phasers to cut our own tunnels." Kirk paused, then added more gently, "I'm sorry, Mr. Spock, I'm afraid it must die."
"Sir, if the opportunity arose to capture it instead . . ."
"I will lose no more men, Mr. Spock. The creature will be killed on sight. That's the end of it."
"Very well, sir."
But Kirk was not satisfied. Killing came hard to them all, but Spock in particular was sometimes inclined to hold his fire when his conservation instincts, or his scientific curiosity, were aroused. After a moment, Kirk added, "Mr. Spock, I want you to return to the surface, to assist Mr. Scott in the maintenance of his makeshift circulating pump."
Spock's eyebrows went up. "I beg your pardon, Captain?"
"You heard me. It's vital that we keep that reactor in operation. Your scientific knowledge . . ."
". . . is not needed there. Mr. Scott knows far more about reactors than I do. You are aware of that."
After another pause, Kirk said; "very well. I am in command of the Enterprise. You are second in command. This hunt will be dangerous. Either one of us, by himself, is expendable. Both of us are not."
"I will, of course, follow your orders, Captain," Spock said. "But we are dealing with a grave scientific problem right here, so on those grounds, this is where I should be, not with Mr. Scott. Besides, sir, there are approximately one hundred of us engaged in this search, against one creature. The odds against both you and me being killed are—" there was a very slight pause, "two hundred twenty-six point eight to one."
Not for the first time, Kirk found himself outgunned. "Those are good odds. Very well, you may stay. But keep out of trouble, Mr. Spock."
"That is always my intention, Captain."
Kirk's communicator beeped, and he flipped it open. "Kirk here."
"Scotty, Captain. My brilliant improvisation just gave up the ghost. It couldn't take the strain."
"Can you fix it again?"
"Nay, Captain. It's gone for good."
"Very well. Start immediate evacuation of all colonists to the Enterprise."
Vanderberg's voice came through. "Not all of them, Captain. Me and some of my key personnel are staying. We'll be down to join you."
"We don't have phasers enough for all of you."
"Then we'll use clubs," Vanderberg's voice said. "But we won't be chased away from here. My people take orders from me, not from you."
Kirk thought fast. "Very well. Get everybody else on board the ship. The fewer people we have breathing the air, the longer the rest of us can hold out. How long is that, Scotty?"
"It's got naught to do with the air, Captain. The reactor will go supercritical in about ten hours. You'll have to find your beastie well before then."
"Right. Feed us constant status reports, Scotty. Mr. Vanderberg, you and your men assemble on level twenty-three, checkpoint Tiger. There you'll team up with Enterprise security personnel. They're better armed than you are, so stay in sight of one of them at all times—buddy system. Mr. Spock and I will control all operations by communicator. Understood—and agreed?"
"Both," Vanderberg's voice said grimly. "Suicide is no part of my plans."
"Good. Kirk out . . . Mr. Spock, you seem to have picked up something."
"Yes, Captain. The creature is now quiescent a few thousand yards from here, in that direction."
Kirk took a quick look at his chart. "The map says these two tunnels converge there. Take the left one, Mr. Spock. I'll go to the right."
"Should we separate?"
"Two tunnels," Kirk said. "Two of us. We separate."
"Very well, Captain," Spock said, but his voice was more than a little dubious. But it couldn't be helped. Kirk moved down the right-hand tunnel, slowly and tensely.
The tunnel turned, and Kirk found himself in a small chamber, streaked with bright strata quite unlike the rest of the rock around him. Imbedded in there were dozens of round objects like the one Vanderberg had on his desk, or the one which had so fascinated Spock. He lifted his communicator again. "Mr. Spock."
"Yes, Captain."
"I've found a whole layer of those silicon nodules of yours."
"Indeed, Captain. Most illuminating. Captain—be absolutely certain you do not damage any of them."
"Explain."
"It is only a theory, Captain, but . . ." His voice was drowned out by the roar of hundreds of tons of collapsing rock and debris. Kirk threw himself against the wall, choking clouds of dust rising around him. When he could see again, it was evident that the roof of the tunnel had fallen across the way he had just come.
"Captain! Are you all right? Captain!"
"Yes, Mr. Spock. Quite all right. But we seem to have had a cave-in."
"I can phaser you out," Spock's voice said. "No, any disturbance would bring the rest of the wall down. Anyway
, it isn't necessary. The chart said our tunnels meet further on. I can just walk out."
"Very well. But I find it disquieting that your roof chose to collapse at that moment. Please proceed with extreme caution. I shall double my pace."
"Very well, Mr. Spock. I'll meet you at the end of the tunnel. Kirk out."
As he tucked the communicator away, there came from behind him a sound as of pebbles being shaken in a can.
He spun instantly, but it was too late. The way was blocked.
It was his first clear sight of the creature, which was reared in the center of the tunnel. It was huge, shaggy, multicolored, and knobby with objects which might have been heads, sense organs, hands—Kirk could not tell. It was quivering gently, still making that strange noise.
Kirk whipped up his phaser. At once the creature shuffled backward. Was it now afraid of just one gun? He raised the weapon again, but this time the creature retreated no further. Neither did it advance.
Phaser at the ready, Kirk moved toward the animal, trying to get around it. At once, it moved to block him—not threateningly, as far as Kirk could tell, but just getting in his way.
Spock chose this moment to call him again. "Captain, a new reading shows the creature . . ."
"I know exactly where the creature is," Kirk said, his phaser steadily on it. "Standing about ten feet away from me."
"Kill it, Captain! Quickly!"
"It's—not making any threatening moves, Mr. Spock."
"You don't dare take the chance! Kill it!"
"I thought you were the one who wanted it kept alive," Kirk said, with grim amusement. "Captured, if possible."
"Your life is in danger, Captain. You can't take the risk."
"It seems to be waiting for something. I want to find out what. I'll shoot if I have to."
"Very well, Captain. I will hurry through my tunnel and approach it from the rear. I remind you that it is a proven killer. Spock out."
The creature was silent now. Kirk lowered his phaser a trifle, but there was no reaction.
"All right," Kirk said. "What do we do now? Talk it over?"
He really had not expected an answer, nor did he get one. He took a step forward and to one side. Again the creature moved to block him; and as it did, Kirk saw along one of its flanks a deep, ragged gouge, leaving a glistening, rocklike surface exposed. It was obviously a wound.
