Star Trek 10

by James Blish

  Flailing helplessly, he had tumbled into a peculiar tunnel. It was filled with a ghastly milky whiteness into which walls, roof and floor were constantly dissolving, leaving no solid point of reference required by humankind to determine its place in the universe. Unheard by Kirk, he shrieked, "You!" Then the manlike thing was on him. In deadly combat, they writhed, twisted together, hands groping for each other's throats. Lazarus was on his back, choking, when he made a supreme effort, muscles cracking with strain. His assailant was thrown backward. And disappeared into the drifting whiteness.

  Reeling drunkenly, Lazarus staggered out of the tunnel into Kirk's sight. Before Kirk could reach him, he fell, striking his head against a boulder. He struggled up to his hands and knees, his face streaked with blood and sweat. Kirk ran to him.

  "Lazarus! Where were you? What happened?"

  Horror moved in the dazed eyes. "I . . . saw it again! The Thing! It attacked me . . . "

  "I'll take you back. Hold on to me."

  As he was hefting the man to his feet, Spock came through the gully. He hurried to them but Lazarus pushed away his supporting arm. Stepping aside, Spock said, "That effect occurred again, Captain. And it centered right here . . . almost where we are standing."

  Lazarus lifted his head. "I told you! It was the Thing! All whiteness . . . emptiness . . ."

  Kirk wiped his face clear of its blood and sweat. "There's nothing you can do about it here. We're beaming back to the ship."

  The man tried to wrench himself free of Kirk's grasp. "We must kill him first! He tried to kill me! Don't you understand? If we don't stop him, he will kill us all!"

  As Kirk watched McCoy apply a dressing to the deep cut on his guest's forehead, doubt of the humanoid's existence continued to trouble him. He had not seen the humanoid. He had not seen the fight. Both had been invisible to him. All he had to go on was the word of Lazarus. He felt a sudden need to confer with Spock. There was a climate of controlled tension in the bridge as he entered it. At Spock's station he lowered his voice.

  "Any luck, Mr. Spock?"

  "Negative, Captain. I can no more explain the second phenomenon than I can the first."

  "If there's a shred of truth in what Lazarus said—"

  "That a humanoid—a single creature—could be responsible for an effect of such magnitude?"

  "Hard to credit," Kirk said.

  "Indeed, sir."

  "But the rest of his tale seems to fit. His wounds testify to an apparent confrontation with something."

  "Affirmative, sir."

  Kirk took three restless paces and came back. "Then, assuming there is a humanoid, how does he cause the effects? He has no weapons, no power system . . ."

  "I'm sorry, Captain. All I know for certain is that the occurrence of the phenomena seems to coincide exactly with the moments Lazarus has one of his alleged confrontations."

  Uhura interrupted them. "Doctor McCoy, Captain, asking for you in Sickbay. He says it's urgent."

  McCoy was troubled too. He was at his desk, drumming it impatiently with his fingers. "Jim, maybe I'm suffering from delusions; maybe I'm not. You tell me."

  "No, Bones. You tell me. That's why I'm here."

  McCoy swung around. "Thirty minutes ago you brought Lazarus here and I treated a deep abrasion on his forehead. Right?"

  "Right."

  "I treated that wound, bandaged it, then stepped in here for a moment."

  "The point, Bones."

  "Say he's got a constitution like a dinosaur. Recuperative powers ditto—and as we both know, I'm a bright young medic with a miraculous touch. But tell me this. Why, when I returned to my patient, wasn't there a trace of that wound on his forehead? Not even a bruise, Jim. It was as though he'd never been injured!"

  Kirk was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "Where is he?"

  "I'm just a country doctor, not a private detective. Maybe he stepped out for a cup of coffee . . ."

  But his goal was the Enterprise Recreation Room. Spock found him sitting at a table, quietly enjoying himself as he watched two crewmen playing a game. There was no bandage on his forehead. Spock moved to him. "May I sit down?"

  He seemed to have recovered from his antagonism. "Yes, of course," he said.

  "Earlier," Spock said, "I referred to you as a liar."

  "Do you still think I am?"

  "About some matters, yes."

  Lazarus smiled. "You're very direct. I like that. If it will help make up your mind about me, ask your questions."

  "I am curious about this civilization of yours . . . the one that was destroyed."

  "It was much like that of Earth. Green, soft landscapes, blue seas, great cities, science, education . . ."

  "And the people?"

  "Like any of us. Good, bad, beautiful, ugly, magnificent . . . terrible. Human. Satisfied?"

  "The story you have told us is most strange and unlikely, as you yourself. You are hardly the same man I spoke to earlier."

  "Don't blame me if I'm not consistent, Mr. Spock. Not even the universe is that."

  "I prefer to think it is," Spock said.

  He got a sharp stare. "Yes. Of course you would."

  The wall communicator beeped. Spock got up and went to it. "Yes, Lieutenant Uhura?"

  "You told me to notify you when the impulse readings reached the critical stage. They've done so."

  "Thank you, Lieutenant." He returned to Lazarus. "If you will excuse me, I have an experiment in progress—one that may help me evaluate the facts."

  "When you are certain of your facts, will you believe me then?"

  "I always believe in facts, sir." He eyed the unbandaged forehead. "I must congratulate you on your remarkable recuperative powers. If time permitted, I would like to discuss them with you." He bowed. "Thank you for your company."

  Lazarus was watching him leave when the shimmer suddenly sparkled again. He half-rose from the table, went pallid and almost fell from his chair. The sparkle subsided; and controlling his shaking knees, he moved out into the corridor. The effect came again. The corridor walls faded, dissolving. Then they were back, solid, real. Staring about, Lazarus hauled himself up from where he had fallen. On his forehead was the white tape marking the wound he had received on the planet. He heard Kirk call, "Lazarus!"

  McCoy saw him first. They rushed to him, Kirk taking his arm. "Are you all right?"

  "What? Oh, yes, Captain. All right! But impatient! Have you decided to help me yet?"

  McCoy was staring at him. He stepped forward, seized the edge of the tape and pulled it off. There was a red, neatly sliced cut in the bruised forehead.

  "Well . . ." McCoy said.

  Kirk, too, had his eyes fixed on the deep cut.

  "Something wrong, Captain?" Lazarus asked.

  Kirk glanced at McCoy. "No. Except that I have a ship's physician with a strange sense of humor."

  McCoy wheeled. "Jim, this is no joke! I know what I saw!"

  The wall communicator beeped. "Bridge. Calling the Captain."

  Kirk hit the switch. "Kirk here."

  Spock said, "Request you come up, sir."

  "Find something?"

  "Something quite extraordinary, Captain."

  "On my way." He turned a cold eye on Lazarus. "You will come with me. I have some questions still to be answered."

  Spock had ordered activation of the main viewing screen. It showed the planet flaring with a single needle point of blinking light. Spock joined Kirk. "A source of radiation, Captain."

  "Why didn't our scanners pick it up before?"

  "Because it isn't there," Spock said.

  Kirk could feel the tension hardening in his midriff. "A riddle, Mr. Spock? First Bones, now you."

  "What I meant, sir—is, according to usual scanning procedure, there is nothing there that could be causing the phenomenon."

  "But the radiation point is there."

  "Affirmative, sir." Spock hesitated. "I confess I am somewhat at a loss for words. It may be best d
escribed, though loosely and inaccurately . . . as a—" He paused again, his embarrassment to be read only in the particular impassivity of his face. "As . . . a 'rip' in our universe."

  "A what?"

  "A peculiar physical warp, Captain, in which none of our established physical laws seem to apply with regularity. It was only with our dilithium crystals that I was able to localize it."

  Lazarus burst into speech. "Of course! The dilithium crystals! Their power—that could do it!" He whirled to Kirk with a wild shout. "We've got him now, Captain! We've got him!"

  "You refer to the humanoid?" Spock inquired.

  "Yes! By the gods, yes! Now we have him!"

  "What have the crystals got to do with it? All they show is a point of radiation," Kirk said.

  "But that's it! That's the key—the solution! That's how we can trap him! I implore you . . . I beg you . . . I demand—give me those crystals!"

  Kirk shook his head. "Out of the question. The crystals are the very heart of my ship's power."

  The eyes that glared at him were congested with blood. "Fool, don't you understand? There'll be no ship unless this monster is killed! He'll destroy all of you!"

  Kirk gritted his teeth. "How, Lazarus? How? All I've heard from you is doubletalk—lies—threats that never materialize—explanations that don't hold a drop of water! Now you tell me—how is my ship in danger? How?"

  The face tightened into hard determination. Lazarus turned and started toward the elevator.

  Kirk shouted his name. The man whirled around, fury distorting his heavy features. "I warn you, Captain—you will give me the crystals!"

  Kirk spoke very quietly. "Don't threaten me."

  "I'm not threatening you. I am telling you I will have my vengeance!" The elevator whirred open and he was gone.

  Kirk's tension had broken into open rage. He turned to a guard. "Security! From now on he's your job—your only job! If he does anything, tries to—anything at all unusual—notify me at once!"

  The guard was already moving toward the elevator.

  In the Engineering section Charlene Masters was directing the procedure required to recharge the dilithium crystals. She had opened one of the bins when her assistant turned from the intercom. "Lieutenant Masters," he said, "the Captain is calling."

  She moved off to the far wall. As she turned her back, a figure edged from the shadow behind the bins toward the assistant. A powerful arm encircled the man's neck, applying hard pressure to the throat. Then quietly, almost tenderly, it eased him to the ground.

  The oblivious Charlene was listening to Kirk say, "Can you prepare an experimentation chamber in ten minutes? All dilithium crystals full power, Lieutenant."

  "I'll check, sir." She returned to the bins for readings and went back to the intercom. "Captain? Chamber will be ready in ten minutes. My assistant and I—"

  A hand clamped over her mouth. Kirk heard her choking gurgle. "Lieutenant Masters? Masters, what's wrong?"

  She managed to wrench her head free for a brief instant. "Captain . . .!" Her eyes were glazing as she was dropped to the deck.

  The Lazarus of the powerful arm bore no sign of a cut on his forehead.

  It was a furious Kirk who called the meeting in the Briefing Room. Lazarus, the red wound back on his forehead, sat at the head of the table. Kirk paced up and down behind his chair, his eyes on the blackening finger marks on Charlene Masters' throat. He waited for Spock to enter before he spoke.

  "Two of my crewmen have been attacked—and two of our dilithium crystals are missing! Without them this ship cannot operate at full power. They must be found!"

  He seized the back of the chair Lazarus sat in. Wheeling around, he shouted, "Fact! You said you needed those crystals! Fact! Within an hour after telling me you must have them, they are missing!"

  Lazarus half-rose from the chair. "And fact!" he cried. "I didn't take the crystals!"

  His head drooped. "I'm not the one, Captain," he said quietly. "In me the Enterprise found only an orphan . . . Find my enemy. Find the beast—and you'll find your crystals!"

  "And just how did your beast get aboard my ship?"

  "He has ways! There's no end to his evil!"

  Kirk looked at Spock. "If the creature transported up . . ."

  Lazarus laughed. "Transport up? I tell you, we are dealing with a Thing capable of destroying worlds! He has your crystals!"

  "But why, sir?" Spock asked mildly. "Again we must put the question to you. For what purposes?"

  Lazarus leaped from his chair. "The same as mine! Why don't you listen to me? He's humanoid! He can operate a ship! Compute formulas to exterminate a race! Strangle a man with his bare hands! Or steal an energy source for his vehicle in order to escape me! Are you deaf as well as blind?”

  There was something wrong. Trust of this man was impossible to come by. The frustration piled up in Kirk until his fists clenched. "Mr. Spock, the crystals certainly aren't here. There is an unexplained source of radiation on the planet. There is clearly some connection. We'll check it out. Prepare a search party at once. Mr. Lazarus will beam down with us."

  Lazarus smiled. "Thank you, Captain."

  Kirk's voice was harsh. "You may not have reason to thank me. That will depend on what we find."

  The cone-shaped craft still lay at the base of the cliff. As Kirk opened its door, Lazarus went to him. "Now what do you believe, Captain?"

  "I believe the missing crystals are not in your ship. Mr. Spock?"

  "Unable to locate the radiation source, sir."

  "Why not? You had it spotted from the ship."

  "It simply seems to have disappeared."

  Kirk spoke to the guards. "I want every inch of this terrain checked. Look for footprints, movement, anything. If you spot something, call out. And don't be afraid to use your weapons."

  The party fanned out over the terrain, each man at once becoming aware of its empty loneliness. No trees, no vegetation—just the unfolding vista of rock in its multiple formations. Lazarus climbed to a craggy ridge, spined like an emaciated dinosaur petrified by the eons. Along its left slope glacial boulders balanced precariously over a steepness that dropped to a long defile. It ran parallel to the ridge; and Kirk, his tricorder out, was exploring it. Lazarus, lost to sight between two jutting rocks, clutched at one as the space around him began to shimmer. In the hideous sparkle, the rocks, the sky, the very ground under his feet seemed to fade and melt. He spun around, peering for his enemy. But there was only the shimmering nothingness. He found that his movement was slowed down. Stumbling forward, he lurched into a milky-white cocoon place—and a blow struck him to his knees. Vapor-like stuff was in his eyes, his nose, his throat. The vague shape of his assailant leaped on him. They wrestled blindly, bits of the stuff drifting over them. Lazarus kicked the thing. It fell back and vanished as though it had dropped into eternity.

  Then the world was solid again. Lazarus careened wildly, still fighting off the absent enemy. He tripped against a rock at the edge of the ridge. It teetered. Lunging forward, he shouted, "Captain! Look out!"

  Kirk leaped aside. And the massive rock crashed into the defile where he'd been moving the moment before. Then the edge of the ridge crumbled. Lazarus fell at Kirk's feet.

  When Spock found them, dust was still drifting down on both men.

  McCoy had a stretcher waiting in the Transporter Room. Lazarus was still unconscious. In Sickbay his recovery came hard. Kirk saw the horror twist his face as he struggled back into awareness. He tried to leap from the examining table.

  "The Thing!" he cried hoarsely.

  "You're on the Enterprise now," Kirk said. "Doctor McCoy says you'll be all right."

  "How's your head?" McCoy asked.

  A hand touched the cut forehead. "It aches."

  "You saved my life down there," Kirk said. "I thank you for that." He paused. "But I have to ask you some questions."

  "Jim! A possible concussion—"

  "It's necessary!" Kirk flared.
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  "Go ahead, Captain," Lazarus said.

  "I am holding," Kirk said, "a computer report on the information you gave us during your initial screening. It calls you a liar, Lazarus. For one thing, there is no planet at the location you claimed to have come from. There never has been."

  Lazarus sat up, his eyes on Kirk's face. "You wouldn't believe the truth if I told it to you," he said slowly.

  "Try us," Kirk said.

  "About my home planet . . . I distorted a fact in the interest of self-preservation and my sacred cause. You, too, are a stranger to one, Captain—an unknown factor." He swung his legs from the table, making a tentative effort to stand.

  "I needed help, not censure," he said. "Freedom, not confinement as a madman. If I told you the truth, I feared that was what you'd call me."

  "The truth now, if you please," Kirk said.

  Lazarus looked at him, his deep passion thickening his voice. "All right, sir! My planet, my home—or what's left of it—is down there below us!"

  Kirk stared at him, dumbfounded. "What are you saying?"

  "That my space ship is more than a space ship. It is also a time chamber . . . a time ship. And I, if you will, am a time traveler."

  Kirk frowned. This man was a compounder of mysteries. All he had told were lies . . . and yet that vessel of his, like nothing before seen on heaven or earth, its unrecognizable complexities . . . He spoke tonelessly. "And this thing you search for? Is it a time traveler, too?"

  The eyes went wild. "Yes! He's fled me across all the years, all the empty years! To a dead future on the dead planet he murdered!" He was feverish now, staggering to his feet. "Help me, man! You have more crystals! Give me the tools I need to kill him!" He tottered and McCoy grabbed him. He wrenched free of the supporting arm.

  "The crystals! What are they to the abomination I hunt? What is anything compared to its supernal evil? Do you want him to get away?"

  "Lazarus, there are a lot of things going on that we know nothing about. But you know. Now tell me—where are our crystals?"