Star Trek 11

by James Blish

  Kirk sat up. "Anything missing?"

  "Just disordered. As if everything had been picked up and examined."

  Once again that insect whine sounded close to Kirk's ear. He waited a moment before he said, "Bones, could something be causing me to hallucinate?" The urgency in his voice startled McCoy out of his concentration on his medical panels. He turned. "How—hallucinate? What do you mean?"

  "Twice," Kirk said, "I've felt something touch me. Nothing was there. I just felt it again. Did I just fancy it?"

  "There's nothing physically wrong with you, Jim."

  "I asked you a question. Am I hallucinating?"

  McCoy left his panels. "No."

  Kirk leaped from the medical table. "Then we did beam something aboard! Something has invaded this ship!" He was making for the intercom when the alarm of a red alert sounded. Over the shrieking of its sirens, he cried, "Captain to bridge! Mr. Spock, come in!"

  Spock didn't come in. Minutes passed before Kirk could hear the voice, faint, blurred. "Captain, I have a reading from the life support center . . ."

  "Spock, I can't hear you! Check circuits. Is it a malfunction?"

  More minutes passed. Then it was Uhura speaking, her voice also dimmed and distorted. ". . . intercom system breaking down rapidly . . ."

  Kirk felt the sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Lieutenant, issue a shipwide order! Use communicators instead of the intercom. Arm all crewmen with phaser pistols. Spock, come in!"

  The words were a jumble. "Reading . . . life support . . . center. Alien . . . substances . . . introduced . . ." Kirk was shouldering into his shirt. "Mr. Spock, meet me in the life support center! On the double! Captain to Security! Armed squad to life support center at once!" He was at Sickbay's door when he saw McCoy sway. Christine Chapel, clutching the back of a chair, called, "The oxygen content is dropping, Doctor . . ."

  As for Kirk himself, Sickbay, its door, its cabinets, its equipment, were all swimming into blur. He fought the dizziness that threatened to become darkness, struggling to open his communicator. "Bridge! Bridge! Scotty, where are you? Emergency life support!"

  Scott's steady voice said. "Emergency on, sir."

  Behind him, McCoy and Christine were gulping in lungfuls of healthy air. Kirk's vertigo subsided—and Scott said, "Condition corrected, Captain."

  But the cold hand of imminent death had touched Kirk. It was a man of a different discipline who met Spock at the entrance to the life support center. As wordlessly as it was given, he took the phaser, flinging open the door to the center. Its security guards, sprawled on the floor, were kneeing back up to their feet. One, phaser out, charged to his left, only to be flung back and down again by something invisible. Kirk, staring around him, said, "How do you explain that, Mr. Spock?"

  The sharp Vulcan eyes scanned their tricorder. "A force field, sir, with the nature of which I am unfamiliar. But I get a reading of alien presences similar to those obtained on the planet. They seem to have no exact location."

  " 'Life forms of a highly unusual, intermittent nature'." Kirk recalled grimly. "Phasers on stun, everybody. Sweep the area."

  Once more came the thin whine. Phaser beams were lacing the corridor outside. Inside, Kirk and Spock edged cautiously forward to the location of the force field. Instead of flinging them back, it yielded to them; but when a guard moved to follow them, he was struck down.

  "It would seem they will allow only the two of us in to the life support unit," Spock said. "Take care, Captain."

  Kirk took the advice. He opened the heavy door to the unit, his weapon at the ready. At first glance the unit appeared to be its usual self, its complex coils, squat dynamos, its serpentine tubings and compressors arranged in their customary pattern. Then Kirk saw the gleaming metal of the device affixed to one of the dynamos. The metal was fluted like that of the Scalosian building. Though alien in shape and material, the small device had been able to affect the functioning of the huge life support unit

  "Mr. Spock, what is it?"

  "I cannot determine, Captain. Perhaps a Scalosian refrigerating system." He scanned the thing with his tricorder. “It would seem that installation of the device is incomplete, sir. Life support is still operational."

  "Disconnect it," Kirk said.

  But the hand Spock extended toward the fixture was flung back. Kirk, whipping out his phaser, heard yet again that now familiar whine. "Destroy it, Spock!" he shouted.

  As their two phasers fired at the device, their weapons disappeared. One moment, they were hard, tangible in their hands; but the next, they were gone. Both men pushed forward and were thrust strongly back.

  "And that wasn't a force field!" Kirk cried. "Something pushed me back. They are in here with us!" He swung around, shouting at the empty air. "You! What are you doing to my ship? Show yourselves!"

  The mosquito whine shrilled. They tried again, not lunging this time to the device but approaching it. A hard shove sent them stumbling back.

  Spock's voice was dry. "It seems that we may look at their mechanism—but that is all, Captain."

  Kirk nodded. "A show of strength." He shouted again to the invisible enemies. "But we'll find a way to dismantle this aggressive engine of yours!"

  It was more than a mere show of strength. Back on the bridge, they discovered that key systems over the entire ship had either been crossed or fused. Spock's computer alone was still operational. All doors, including those of the elevators, were jammed open. Scott greeted them with a gloom thick as a Tyneside fog. "Warp engines are losing potency, Captain. We shall be on emergency power soon—a situation that gives us at most one week of survival."

  Kirk wheeled to Spock. "Have your readings been fed into the computer bank?"

  "Affirmative, Captain."

  "Readout."

  Flipping a switch, Spock addressed the computer. "Analyze and reply. Have we been invaded?"

  "Affirmative."

  "Nature and description of enemy forces."

  "Data insufficient."

  "Purpose of the invasion."

  "Immediate purpose, seizure and control of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Data insufficient for determination of end purpose."

  "Is there a link between this seizure and Compton's disappearance?"

  "Data insufficient."

  "Are we at present capable of resisting?"

  "Negative."

  "Recommendations?"

  "If incapable of resistance, negotiate for terms."

  Listening, Kirk glared at the computer. Then he flushed at his own childishness. The computer was just doing its computer job. But men were not computers. "We will not negotiate for terms," he said. "Scotty, do you concur?"

  "Aye, sir."

  Spock, giving him an approving nod, said, "What are your recommendations, Captain?"

  "Coffee," Kirk said. He turned to the pretty yeoman on duty. "Is a round of coffee available to bridge personnel—or have those circuits also been damaged?"

  She smiled, adoration in her eyes. It shouldn't have cheered him up—but it did. Challenge hardened his jaw as he looked around him at an air made malevolent by invisible hostility. "Let them take the next step," he said. "The next move is theirs."

  His cup of coffee was set on the arm of his chair. He let it wait to cool. Then, as he leaned back in the chair, his hair was suddenly stirred. He stared around him, baffled—and felt soft lips on his. He was hallucinating. McCoy was wrong. He put out a tentative hand, exploring the space before him. Shaking his head, he seized his cup and, after drinking its coffee, replaced it on the chair arm. At the same instant, he became abruptly aware of a change of tempo in the voices around him. They sounded too slow, like those from a phonograph that was running down. And the movements of the bridge people—they, too, seemed strangely slowed, lethargic.

  He went to Spock. But Spock, who had bent to his computer, seemed unable to reach its hood.

  "Mr. Spock, what's wrong?"

  The Vulcan didn't answer. He sat perfect
ly still in his chair. Kirk wheeled, calling, "Scotty!" No reply. Scott appeared to be frozen in the very act of moving a dial. It was then he heard the feminine giggle—a very feminine giggle. It came from his left. He turned. The Scalosian beauty was standing there, her chestnut hair making a dream of her creamy skin. She wore a short garment of golden gauze that clung to a slim body of subliminally provocative appeal. She was laughing at him; and the gleam of her teeth between her rosy lips gave the lie to all poets' talk of "pearls."

  Still laughing, she kissed him. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. He tried. He tried to remember who he was; the pressing problems of the Enterprise, his command responsibilities. But all he succeeded in doing was to remove the lovely arms from his neck.

  "Who are you?" he said.

  "Deela, the enemy," she said. "Isn't it delicious?"

  He had thought he knew women. But nothing in his experience had prepared him for this dazzling combination of mischief and outrageously open attractiveness. "You're the enemy?"

  She nodded her enchanting head. "Yes. You beamed me aboard yourself when you came up. A ridiculously long process . . ."

  "What have you done to my ship?"

  "Nothing."

  He swung around to gesture to the motionless bridge people. "You call that nothing?"

  "They're all right," she said. "They're just what they have always been. It's you who are different."

  He stared around him. "Lieutenant Uhura . . . Mr. Sulu . . . every one of them . . ."

  "Captain, they can't hear us. To their ears we sound like insects. That's your description, you know. Accurate, if unflattering. Really, nothing's wrong with them."

  "Then what have you done to me?"

  "Changed you. You are like me now. Your crew can't see you because of the acceleration. We both move now in the wink of an eye. There is a dreary scientific term for it—but all that really matters is that you can see me and talk to me and . . ." The creamy eyelids lowered over eyes the color of wet green leaves. ". . . and we can go on from there."

  "Why?" Kirk said.

  "Because I like you. Didn't you guess?" She came closer to him. She was ruffling his hair now; and he seemed unable to do a thing about it. The situation was out of hand . . . the presence of his crew . . . this public exhibition of endearments . . . her overwhelming beauty . . . his ship's predicament. He seized the caressing hands. They were warm, soft. It wasn't the answer.

  "Is it because you like me that you've sabotaged my ship?"

  "It hasn't been sabotaged. We just had to make some changes in it to adjust it to our tempo."

  " 'We'?"

  "Of course. My chief scientist and his men. I'm their Queen. You're going to be their King. You'll enjoy living on Scalos."

  "And what happens to my ship—my men?"

  "Oh, in a few of their moments they'll realize you've vanished. Then they'll look for you. But they won't find you. You're accelerated far beyond their powers to see. So they'll go on without you . . ."

  He became conscious that her hands were still in his. He released them. She smiled at him. "Don't be stubborn. You can't go back to them. You must stay with me. Is that so dreadful a prospect?"

  He reached for his phaser. "I won't kill you—but the 'stun' effect isn't very pleasant."

  "Go ahead," she said. "Fire it at me."

  He fired the stun button. She stepped aside and the beam passed harmlessly by her. She laughed at the look on his face. "Don't look so puzzled. My reactions are much too fast for such a crude weapon. Besides, I'm quite good at self-defense." She pulled a small instrument from her golden belt. Pointing it at his phaser, she fired it—and its beam tore the phaser out of his hand. "It can be set for stun and destroy, too," she said. "Like yours. Please accept what's happened. There's nothing you can do to change it."

  His ship. Suppose he capitulated—and went with her? Went with her on the condition she made the Enterprise operational again and removed the device attached to the life support system? Spock could carry on . . .

  His face was somber. She saw it set into grim lines and cried, "Don't fret so! You'll feel better about it in a little while. It always happens this way . . . they're all upset at first. But it wears off and they begin to like it. You will, too. I promise . . ."

  He turned on his heel and left her. She touched a medallion on the golden belt. "He's on his way to you, Rael. Be gentle with him," she said.

  Kirk came at a run down the corridor to the life support center. He found what he expected. The Enterprise guards at its door were stiff, rigid. He skirted them; and was starting toward the door when a third guard in the Starship's uniform emerged from a corner. "Compton!" Kirk shouted.

  Compton beamed at him. "Captain Kirk! So you made it here!"

  "You've been accelerated, haven't you?" Kirk said.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Are they in there? They've got something hooked in to life support—and we've got to get rid of it. Come on!"

  But Compton had barred his way with the Scalosian weapon. "Sorry, sir. Entry is forbidden."

  "Who gave that order?"

  "The commander, sir. You'll have to step back, please."

  "I am your commander—and I order you to let me in."

  "I am very sorry, sir. You are no longer my commander."

  "Then who is? Deela? Are you working for her?"

  Compton reached an arm back into the corner's shadows and drew out the other Scalosian girl. He spoke very earnestly. "At first I refused, sir—but I've never known anyone like Mira. She brought me aboard and I showed them the ship's operations, its bridge controls and life support. I didn't understand at first but I do now. I—I've never been in love before, sir."

  Kirk stepped back. Then, lunging at Compton, he chopped the weapon away from him and raced for the door.

  In the center, Rael, two other Scalosians beside him, was working on the small device. He looked up as Kirk plunged in. "Stun," he said to one of his men. The weapon came up; and from behind Kirk, pushing him aside, Compton hurled himself at it. His try at protection was too late. The blast caught Kirk. He collapsed. Raging, Rael felled Compton with a blow. "You were ordered to stop him! Why did you disobey?"

  Compton's mouth was bleeding. "You wanted to hurt him," he said.

  "He was violent and to be subdued. Why did you disobey?"

  "He—he was my Captain . . ."

  Compton crumpled. "Go to him, Ekor," Rael said. The man with the weapon knelt beside Compton. Mira, who had drifted into the center, joined him. When he looked up, he said, "There is cell damage." The girl, her pretty face curious, stooped over Compton. "Don't be troubled," Rael told her. "Another will be secured for you." Nodding, she strolled out of the door.

  It was Uhura who first noticed the empty command chair. "The captain!" she cried. "He's gone! Mr. Spock, the captain's gone! He was sitting there just a minute ago! He'd just drunk his coffee! There's the cup—on the arm of his chair! But where's the Captain?"

  Spock had already left his station. "Mr. Sulu, what did you see?"

  Sulu turned a bewildered face. "That's what happened, sir. He was there, putting his cup down—and then he wasn't there!"

  There was a moment's silence before Spock said, "Mr. Sulu, did you drink coffee when the yeoman brought it around?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Spock eyed the bridge personnel. "Did anyone else?" he said.

  "I had some," Scott said.

  One by one Spock lifted their cups, sniffing at them. Then he sniffed at Kirk's.

  "Was it the coffee?" Scott cried. "Are we going to vanish, too, like the captain?"

  "The residue in these cups must be analyzed before I can answer that, Mr. Scott."

  "And by that time—" Scott fell silent.

  "I suggest," Spock said," that we remember the Captain's words. Make them take the next step. In the meantime we must determine effective countermoves. The con is yours, Mr. Scott. I shall be in the medical laboratory."

 
Deela sat on the deck in life support center, the head of the still unconscious Kirk in her lap. Rael, at the device, watched her as she smoothed the hair from his forehead. "I told you," she said, "to be gentle with him."

  "He was violent. We had to stun him to avoid cell damage."

  She looked over to where Compton lay in a neglected huddle. "Who damaged that one? You? I might have known it. I suppose he was violent, too."

  "He turned against us," Rael said.

  "And you lost your temper."

  "He had to be destroyed. He had not completely accepted change. It is a stubborn species."

  Deela's eyes were still on Compton. "I know what happens to them when they're damaged. You will control your temper, Rael. I don't want that to happen to mine. If they're so stubborn a species, perhaps they'll last longer."

  "It may be."

  "I hope so. They all go so soon. I want to keep this one a long time. He's pretty."

  "He is inferior, Deela!"

  "We disagree, Rael."

  "You cannot allow yourself to feel an attachment to such a thing!"

  "I can allow myself to do anything I want!" The flare of anger passed as quickly as it had come. "Oh, Rael, don't be that way," she coaxed. "Am I jealous of what you do?"

  "I do my duty."

  "So do I. And sometimes I allow myself to enjoy it."

  As she spoke, Kirk's dazed eyes opened. Under his head he felt the softness of feminine thighs. He shook it to clear it; and looking up, saw Deela smiling at him. "Hello," she said.

  He sat up—and recognized Rael. Leaping to his feet, he turned on Deela. "Is this what you wanted us for? To take over our ship?"

  She rose in one graceful movement. "We need your help. And you and your ship are supplying it."

  "And what does that device of yours have to do with the supply?"

  "Hush," she said. "I'll tell you everything you want to know. And you'll approve of it."

  "Approve!" he shouted. "We're your prisoners!"

  "Hardly," she said. "You're free to go wherever you want."

  Kirk rushed to the life support unit. Instead of interfering, Rael stepped aside. "Go ahead, Captain. Our mechanism is not yet completely linked to your support system but it is in operating order. Study it if you wish. I advise you not to touch it."