by James Blish
Spock spoke. "On that basis it will take exactly 74.1 solar hours for the storm to pass, Captain."
"Warp her out of orbit right now! Mr. Scott, stay at the minimum distance for absolute safety!"
"Aye, aye, sir. We'll beam you up in—"
Kirk interrupted, "Negative. We're staying here. The atmosphere of the planet will protect us. Now get my ship out of danger, Mr. Scott!"
"Very well, Captain. Scott out."
"Kirk out." Closing his communicator, he turned to Spock. "Mr. Spock . . . how about that tape?"
Spock had been examining it. As he inserted it into the recorder, he said, "Whatever we see and hear, Captain, happened approximately two weeks ago."
Activated, the device's viewing screen lit up. It showed two men checking equipment against the hut's background. "The one on the left is Dr. Linke," Kirk said. "The other is Dr. Ozaba. Does the speaker work, Spock?"
It worked. Linke was saying, ". . . another week in this godforsaken place . . ."
He lurched to the shaking of a brief earthquake. Ozaba grinned. "In His hand are the deep places of the earth. Psalm 95, Verse 4.1 wish He'd calm them down . . ."
Abruptly, sound and picture ended. The recorder emitted a deep organ-like chord. It grew louder—and the picture returned to image the scientists searching for the source of the sound. Their lips moved but their voices were overwhelmed by the rising chord's reverberation. Suddenly Ozaba clutched his head, staggering in pain. As Linke rushed forward to help him, Ozaba winked out. Terrified, Linke stared around the hut. Then he too began to stagger. He disappeared. The sound faded and the screen went blank.
Appalled, McCoy cried, "Jim, what happened to them?"
As though in answer the strange sound came again, gathering around the Enterprise men. Spock swiftly unlimbered his tricorder while Kirk and McCoy frantically searched for some clue to the noise.
"Where's it coming from?" Kirk shouted. "Spock, can you pin it down?"
"Negative, Captain! This 'sound' doesn't register on my tricorder!" He bent his head to check the instrument when his eyes glazed. His hands went to his head as though the increasing sound were crushing it. He reeled drunkenly. Kirk, rushing to him, put out an arm to steady him. Then Spock winked out.
Kirk stared around him in horror. The sound intensified. "Bones!" Kirk yelled. "Spock—he's gone!"
But McCoy was gripping his head. Then, he too staggered. Even as Kirk raced to him, he vanished. Stunned, Kirk stood still. The hammer of sound beat at him. He began to struggle forward like a man fighting the pull of a monstrous magnet. He stumbled against a metal staircase and fell, cutting his head. As he hauled himself back to his feet, he winked out.
The triumphant sound rose higher in the empty hut.
Time passed. How much, they never knew. But something had transported them into the center of an arena-like place. When a blinding, overhead, circular light came on, they found themselves able to move. Kirk groped up to his knees. Beyond the circle of light, the arena's boundaries were lost in total darkness. The cut on his head throbbed.
"Bones . . . Spock. Spock, where are we?"
McCoy had seen the cut. He reached for his medikit and, struggling to his feet, dealt with the injury. Spock was checking his tricorder. "We are exactly 121.32 meters below the planet's surface, Captain."
"How did we get here?"
"Residual energy readings indicate that we were beamed here by a matter-energy scrambler not dissimilar to our own Transporter mechanism."
"Is that cut very painful, Jim?"
Kirk nodded, shrugging; and Spock, his eyes still on his tricorder, said, "Captain, I'm picking up a life form . . . bearing 42 mark seven."
"Could it be one of the missing scientists?"
"Negative, sir. Although humanoid, it is definitely not Homo sapiens."
"Identification?"
"Impossible. I can make no exact identification other than that it is humanoid."
"Then let's find out what it is. Phasers on stun!"
It was the tricorder that guided them through the dimness ahead. The brilliant light which had illuminated the arena's center didn't reach to its outer space. But, stumbling along it, they could finally discern what seemed to be a narrow, circular platform—a platform or a couch. On it lay a figure. It was very still.
Spock extended the tricorder. "The life form, Captain."
"What is it?" Kirk said.
The creature stirred. As it sat up, lights blazed in a sharply outlined circle over the couch. The being stood up. It had the body of a girl and it was clothed in a gossamer stuff that glittered with the sparkle of diamonds. Her skin was dead white. Dark hair clustered around her temples. But it was her eyes that riveted Kirk's. They were large, shining—the most expressive eyes he'd ever seen in his life.
McCoy started forward.
"Careful!" Kirk said sharply.
"She seems to be harmless enough, Jim."
"The sand-bats of Manark-4," Spock said, "appear to be inanimate rock crystals before they attack."
Kirk moved cautiously toward her. "I am James Kirk, Captain of the USS Enterprise." He gestured back to the others. "This is my Science Officer, Mr. Spock, and Doctor McCoy, Ship's Surgeon. We are not going to hurt you." He paused, still fascinated by the eyes. "Do you live here? Is this . . . your home?"
She didn't answer.
"Spock, analysis?"
"From what we know of gravity and other environmental conditions on this planet, a life form such as hers could not evolve here," McCoy said.
"Agreed, Doctor," Spock said. "She is obviously not of this planet."
"Why are you here?" Kirk asked her.
She shrugged. He persisted. "Are you responsible for bringing us here?" Despite her eyes, he was beginning to feel exasperated. "At least you must know how you got here!"
She shrank back. Aware that he had frightened her, Kirk relaxed. "Don't be afraid," he said gently. "You must not fear me." His reassurance didn't seem to reassure her. How should he approach this sensitive creature with the remarkable eyes? He turned to McCoy. "What about it, Bones? What's wrong with her?"
McCoy looked up from his readings. "She's mute . . . no vocal cords, not even vestigials. And it doesn't look like a pathological condition."
"Explain."
"As far as I can tell, she's perfectly healthy. As for the other, my guess is that the lack of vocal cords is physiologically normal for her species, whatever that is."
"A whole race of mutes . . . like the Gamma Vertis-4 civilization?"
"That's my opinion, for what it's worth."
"Without speech, how's she able to understand us? Unless she's a telepath. Could telepathic power have been used to bring us here?"
Spock said, "An unlikely possibility, Captain. Over ninety-eight percent of the known telepathic species send thoughts as well as receive them. She has made no attempt to contact our thoughts."
Kirk looked at her intently for a long moment. Then his hand went to his forehead, pressing tightly against its pulsing ache. As he sank down on the couch, something in the girl's white face moved McCoy to say, "We can't keep calling her 'she' as though she weren't here!"
"You have any suggestions?" Kirk said.
"I don't know about you two, but I'm going to call her 'Gem.'" Conscious of Spock's raised eyebrow, he added a defiant, "At least it's better than 'hey you'!"
Kirk got to his feet. "I want to know why we're here—what's going on. The girl may know. Spock, try the Vulcan mind meld."
Nodding, Spock went to the couch, hands extended to make contact with her. But she had watched his approach with panic. Spock, touching her arm, recoiled.
"Spock, what is it!"
"Her mind doesn't function like ours, Captain. I felt it trying to draw on my consciousness. Like a magnet. I could gain nothing from her."
High above their heads, like a theater's mezzanine, was a semicircular construction. And like a theater director and stage manager, placed for
a different viewpoint of the actors below them, two figures were observing the little drama being enacted on the platform-stage beneath them. An organ chord sounded.
Kirk, Spock and McCoy whirled as one man.
Slowly the figures descended from their eminence. Tall, clad in floor-length robes, their bodies were muscular and agile but their faces were old, their heads bald. Among the wrinkles of great age, their eyes blazed with a purpose that was barren of all warmth or emotion. Each bore a curious silver object in his right hand. It had the shape of a T. Ignoring the men, they advanced on the cowering Gem. Again, as one man, the Enterprise trio moved forward protectively in front of her.
Kirk spoke. "I am—"
He was interrupted. The figure on the left said, "We are aware of your identity, Captain."
"Who are you? Why have you brought us here?"
The voice was as cold as death. "We are Vians. My name is Lal. This is Thann." A finger pointed to Gem. "Do not interfere!"
"What do you intend to do to her?"
"Delay us no longer!"
It was Thann who spoke. As he started forward, Kirk moved swiftly to block his way to the girl. Lal raised his silver T-bar and Kirk was hurled up and over her couch. The crashdown reopened the cut on his forehead. It began to bleed. Wiping blood from his eyes, he hauled himself back to his feet and, pulling out his phaser, called "Phasers on stun!" Then he circled the couch to confront the Vians. "Since you already know who we are, you must also know that we come in peace. Our prime directive specifically prohibits us from interfering with any . . ."
The Vians directed their T-bars at the three Enterprise men. Their phasers, flying out of their hands, dissolved into air. They tried to reach Gem—and a pulsing, multicolored force field enveloped them.
Thann was stooping over the girl, touching his T-bar to her head. It emitted a chilling whine. They all saw that her white face was transfixed with terror. With a concerted effort, they gathered all their strength to strain against the force field. McCoy was the first to weaken. Then it was Kirk's turn. His head swam, blurring his vision so that everything—the place, Gem, the Vians, his friends' faces, spun wildly in a vertiginous mist.
"Bones . . . I . . . can't seem to stand up . . ."
"Stand still!" McCoy said sharply. "You too, Spock! Don't fight it, don't move! Somehow this field upsets the body metabolism . . ."
Lai's cold eyes focused on McCoy. "Not quite, Doctor. The field draws its energy from your bodies. The more you resist it, the stronger it becomes."
He nodded to Thann, who moved away from Gem. When he lifted his T-bar, the chord sounded. Both Vians disappeared—and the force field collapsed so suddenly that its prisoners fell to the floor.
Kirk gritted his teeth against the pain in his head. "Mr. Spock, there must be an exit from this place. See if you can find it."
"Yes, Captain." Tricorder out, Spock moved off to quarter the arena.
"Jim, that's a nasty cut," McCoy said. "Let me have another look at it."
"Don't fuss over me, Bones. They may have hurt the girl." He went to Gem on the couch. "Did they hurt you?" he asked her.
She shook her head. Then, timidly, she touched Kirk's hands. At once pain twisted her face. She drew back; but after a moment, she raised her arm to lay a finger on his throbbing head. To his amazement he saw a cut, identical in size to his own, appear on her forehead. Marveling, he looked at the deep gash. Extending a hand, he touched it gently. It was wet with blood. She took the hand, holding it quietly. And he knew that his wound was gone. At the same instant, hers vanished. Kirk stood up feeling fully refreshed and whole.
McCoy was staring. Kirk nodded. "Yes. The pain is gone. Soon after she touched my head it went."
"And the wound is completely healed! What's more, it fits in, Jim. She must be an empath! Her nervous system is so highly responsive, so sensitive that she can actually feel others' emotional and physical reactions. They become part of her."
Kirk smiled at Gem. "What does one say for what you've done? My thanks."
"Captain . . ." It was Spock returning. He pointed to the left. "In that direction my tricorder picked up a substantial collection of objects—electronically sophisticated devices. I fail to understand why the tricorder gave no previous indication of anything out there."
"It's there now, Mr. Spock. Let's check it out." They were turning to leave when Kirk looked back at Gem. "Wait a minute." He went to her. "If they find you alone here, it could be dangerous. Will you come with us?"
She nodded, rising from the couch.
Because of the dimness the going was slow. They had to edge past large, contorted rock formations that reared up out of sight. Then, ahead of them, Kirk saw a glimmer of light. As they approached it, the rocks ended and the light grew brilliantly dazzling. It shone down from the ceiling of what seemed to be an enormous laboratory. An odd laboratory. All its complex instrumentation hung in midair.
They spread out to examine it. McCoy, Gem beside him, puzzled over an octagonal, bulb-studded object. Spock had gone straight to the viewing screens; but Kirk, after a cursory glance at a blank panel, was peering into blackness that lay beyond the light's reach. Suddenly glare struck him in the face. It illuminated the lab's dark corner. He backed away, disbelief and horror struggling in his face. "Spock, Bones. Look!"
Two large test tubes were suspended from the ceiling. Stuffed into them were the bodies of Linke and Ozaba, their features twisted with agony. The test tubes were labeled. One read "SUBJECT: LINKE." The other said, "SUBJECT: OZABA."
McCoy's voice roused Kirk from his daze. Bones was calling, "Jim! Spock!"
They crossed to him at a run. Wordless, he was pointing to three empty test tubes. The labels they bore read: "McCOY—SPOCK—KIRK."
The chord sounded hollowly in the big room. The Enterprise men wheeled. T-bar in hand, Lal was facing them. He eyed their shocked faces disinterestedly. "We are on schedule," he said. "But some further simple tests are necessary."
"We've just seen the results of some of your . . . tests!" McCoy shouted.
"And I have found our missing men dead." Kirk's voice shook. "Another of your experiments?"
"You are wrong," Lal said. "Their own imperfections killed them. They were not fit subjects. Come, time is short."
"Your time has just about run out!" Kirk cried. "This planet is about to nova. When it does, it will finish itself, you and your whole insane torture chamber along with it! As for your experiments . . ."
The three exchanged a fast glance. Kirk and McCoy strode toward the Vian. He backed away. As the two circled him, Spock closed in with his Vulcan "neck pinch." Lal collapsed. Spock removed his T-bar control. As he rose from his stoop, the bar in his hand, his tricorder beeped. Lifting it, he said, "Readings indicate passage to the surface lies in that direction, Captain." He gestured to their right.
When the party had left the lab, Lal got to his feet. Thann appeared beside him. They stood silent, their cold eyes fixed on the passageway where the group had vanished.
Spock had found his exit to the surface. Twenty minutes of clambering over rocks had brought them into the open. The red sky was overcast and the stiff wind was blowing harder. Kirk took out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise!" There was no answer. The Starship was still out of range. Belting the communicator, Kirk saw that Spock was pouring over his tricorder.
"Report, Mr. Spock?"
Spock looked up. "The research station is six kilometers from here, Captain. Straight ahead."
"Let's get there as fast as we can. If the ship has a search party looking for us, it will be there." He took Gem's hand; but a blast of wind struck her and she halted, blinded by the whip of sand in her eyes. He made to pick her up in his arms. She shook her head, smiling; and hooking her arm under his, struggled forward again. Fiercely blowing sand became a hazard to them all. Its hard grit hit McCoy's eyes so that he stumbled over a rock that tumbled him head over heels. Spock was hauling him to his feet whe
n Gem rushed from Kirk to help McCoy. He grinned at her reassuringly. "I'm all right," he told her. "Don't worry about me, Gem."
Kirk, shading his eyes, peered ahead through the driving sand. "How much farther?" he asked Spock.
"Just ahead, sir."
McCoy gave a shout. "Jim! Look . . . Scotty and a search party!"
Before the metal hut, Scott and two Security guards were waving to them. The howl of wind drowned their voices.
"Scotty! Scotty!" Kirk yelled.
He was racing forward when he suddenly realized that Gem had fallen behind. He turned to help—and saw the Vians standing on a rock observing them.
Gem was down, her white face wet with sweat and effort. He picked her up, pushing her after Spock and McCoy. "Keep going!" he cried.
He watched her stumble on. Then, to cover the others' retreat, he ran toward the Vians.
Lal spoke to Thann. "Their will to survive is great."
"They love life greatly to struggle so."
Lal nodded. "The prime ingredient." He pointed a T-bar at the onrushing Kirk; and at once the Enterprise Captain felt his strength begin to ebb. Gravity became the enemy—a monstrous leech sucking, sucking at his vitality. Weaving, he reached the foot of the rock where the Vians waited—and fell.
He opened his eyes to see Spock bending over him. Fighting the fatigue that still drained his power, he sat up, crying, "What are you doing here? What happened to Scotty?"
"Mr. Scott and the guards were a mirage, Captain."
The Vians' resources seemed as infinite as their will was inexorable. He heard Thann speak his name. He looked up.
"We have decided that one specimen will be sufficient. You will come with us, Captain Kirk."
Kirk got to his feet. "And the others?"
"We have no interest in them," Lal said. "They may go."
McCoy had joined Spock. At the look of relief in Kirk's face, he burst into protest. "You can't go back there! You'll end up like the other two!"
Spock spoke. "Captain, I request permission to be allowed to remain . . ."
