Star Trek: The Original Series - 147 - Devil’s Bargain

by Tony Daniel

  “And yet I understand why you cannot leave. At least, I understand why you cannot leave and remain in your present form. It may seem that people as clever as you have been in adapting to this planet may be able to come up with a solution to adapt to another. Some would say that, barring a miracle, this is the only rational course you could take. You will not survive the coming storm, but some will say that you may, possibly, find a way to adapt yet again. I know this is a delicate matter, but it is time to speak frankly if ever there was such a time. I have no doubt you also are aware of the dangers of genetic manipulation. Perhaps what has been done, can somehow be undone.”

  “What makes you think we have not tried to do this before?” A voice creaking with age rose up from the chamber, a woman’s voice. Kirk located the source in a silver-haired matron, who was sitting to the left on the dais. Kirk noted that her timeworn expression was belied by the softness of her speech. “If I understand you correctly, Captain,” the Council member said, “you say some might wish us to remove the very autoimmune defense which we engineered into our genetic structure to save ourselves here on Vesbius?”

  “I speak of modification for survival,” Kirk replied.

  “How would you feel if someone told you that you had to remove the ability to speak from your own genome? Or how about your ability to reason? The change others might want us to make is not the same thing as taking away a human appendix. We are intimately bound with this planet, and to take away this sensation, this physiological connection, would be akin to murdering part of ourselves. It is something that we cannot do.”

  “I understand you’ve attempted something along these lines?”

  “There is an experimental vaccine. There was much debate over its development, much less its use.”

  “But you did use it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And was it effective?”

  The woman frowned and shook her head sadly. “For a very short time, and then the effect diminished rapidly. This rapid decline in effectiveness was most pronounced in the native born. The vaccine proved a dead end.”

  “But it did work for a time?”

  “Days for some, mere hours for others. But always . . . failure.”

  “So that avenue is closed for the time being,” Kirk said.

  “It is closed,” said the matronly Council member.

  Kirk had the fleeting notion to set McCoy and Spock loose on this vaccine to see if they could improve it. But this was a planet full of expert biologists. If they couldn’t come up with a solution, then it was probably a dead end for even his officers in so short a time.

  “So you see, Captain Kirk, we are going to need a miracle, just as Marlena intimates,” said another Council member, a young man with an intensely handsome face, dark complexion, and well-muscled frame. There was a half-smile upon his face, and he appeared . . . amused. “She may be original stock, and older than the Hesse themselves, but she sometimes makes sense.”

  Who does he remind me of? Kirk thought. Then it came to him: Khan Noonien Singh.

  “Thank you for the compliment, Jasper,” Marlena replied. “But I’d caution you to avoid biting your pretty little tongue by wagging it too much.”

  The man laughed and turned to the captain. “So, do you have a miracle for us, Kirk? Is that why you’ve come? If not, then we’re done here.”

  Behind the obvious sarcasm, Kirk detected a note of fear in the man’s voice.

  Now’s the time to spring Spock’s plan, Kirk thought. As tenuous as its prospects may be.

  Kirk did his best to direct a smile of knowing contentment toward the Council. “As a matter of fact, I do have a miracle in mind. Or at least I have a long shot chance in mind. It will require the cooperation of the planetary government, which is why I’m bringing it to you tonight.”

  “What is your miracle then?” asked the Council member known as Marlena.

  Kirk nodded respectfully in her direction. “Please hear me out. Not long ago on the voyages of my ship we were called to the mining colony on a planet known as Janus VI. It seemed that a series of miners had disappeared on the planet. They had been killed. Missing was a shipment of an important mineral that is a key element in Federation transporter technology, pergium.

  “In the course of searching for the lost shipment, we discovered that the mining colony had unearthed an area of silicon nodules. These had no intrinsic value to them, so they had discarded them. But when we discovered what it was that was killing the miners, the mystery was solved. The silicon nodules were eggs and the killer—the monster, the devil in the dark—a mother who was protecting her children. The species is called the Horta.

  “The Horta are a very strange life form, like none other we’ve discovered in the galaxy. It is silicon-based, rather than carbon-based. It excretes an extremely acidic body coating that enables it to move through rock as if moving through air. When you are in a Horta-created tunnel, you see the precision with which their unique physiology allows the Horta to carve the rock. For them, moving through solid material is a natural act, an act of will and almost no effort on their part, other than locomotion. They understand the structure of rock in the same way that we understand wind and air. Instinctively.

  “Mister Spock”—Kirk gestured toward his first officer, who nodded his head in greeting to the Council—“is Vulcan. Vulcans are touch telepaths; they have the ability to communicate with other sentient species via a Vulcan mind meld. Mister Spock used a Vulcan mind meld on the Horta mother and was able to establish contact and understanding between our species. In fact, the Horta and the miners on Janus VI have become not merely friends but allies in the mining process. It is a situation that went from horror to hope.”

  “This is all very well and good,” said Marlena, “but what does this have to do with saving Vesbius?”

  “Mister Spock has calculated that it may be possible for a sufficient number of Horta to precisely carve the oncoming asteroid in such a manner that we would be able to shunt it out of the way with the Enterprise’s deflector beams. This would be an extremely delicate procedure, and I don’t need to tell you that nothing like this has ever been tried before. But it is a chance. Spock believes it has a much higher chance of succeeding than your plan to retreat into the shelters. I therefore propose that I take the Enterprise to Janus VI. It is within the Omega sector in the Federation. There we will attempt to recruit enough Horta to eat that asteroid from the inside out. We will then use our phasers to break it into precise and manageable chunks, and use our tractor beams to move them on a path that will not strike the planet Vesbius.

  “I need not tell you that this may not work. There are several obstacles standing in the way of the plan, some of them known and some of them unknown.”

  “Exactly how many Horta are there?” asked a younger Council member who had spoken before. “And how many do you think it will take?”

  Kirk looked to Spock, who rose to speak. “Both of these questions are part of the unknown that Captain Kirk spoke of. Remember, there was at first only one Horta that we encountered, one living Horta. It was only after the eggs hatched that baby Horta came out and populated the Janus VI mining system.”

  “How long ago was that?” asked the matronly Council member.

  “Approximately two Earth years ago,” answered Spock. “So the Horta, which can live thousands of years, are extremely immature at this point. Are they developed beyond the human equivalent of being a toddler? That we do not know. From my mind meld with the mother Horta, however, I understood that the Horta are a fast-developing species in youth and have an extremely long—the equivalent is not exact but let us call it this—adolescence. So it is more likely that the Horta we might recruit would be more akin to human teenagers than to infants or toddlers. And while there has not been an adequate count made of the number of Horta on Janus VI, I estimate from the number of eggs that I observed upon the visit we made that there should be several thousand of the creatures working the min
es and living under the surface.

  “As for how many it will take to carve out the asteroid,” Spock continued, “I have made a very rough estimate that we will need about five hundred.”

  “And you believe you can get these creatures to come here and help us?” asked the older lady.

  “I cannot answer that,” said Spock. “We will be going there, I believe the Earth expression is, on a wing and a prayer.”

  Spock bowed his head slightly and sat down.

  Kirk rose again. He took a moment to consider the Council. “The Enterprise will put your case to the Horta. We will try to make them understand how great the danger is to your world.” The captain shook his head and shrugged. “I’m afraid that’s the best plan we have been able to come up with. In the meantime, I urge you to consider an evacuation. I understand that many of you are opposed to this. I also understand that the terrorist group, which struck this week, is attempting to push you to do exactly what I am advocating here. But for the survival of your people, you must realize that the caves are not a viable option.”

  Kirk sat down. Chancellor Faber reached over and picked up his gavel, then rapped it three times on a pedestal in front of him.

  “We will now put this matter to a vote,” he said. “As for myself, although it sounds like as much a fool’s errand, as Captain Kirk claims our shelters to be, I will support this mission.”

  He turned to Kirk. “Horta. What an odd name for a species. But I suppose they would think that Vesbian is just as odd, if they were able to hear it. Can they even hear?”

  “They can detect atmospheric vibrations,” Spock answered. “But their sense of smell is highly developed. It is one of their means of communication.”

  “I see,” said the chancellor. He turned to the Council and spoke in a louder voice. “Council clerk, please call the roll.”

  It was close, but in the end Kirk had won his approval. They had voted for a miracle. Now all he had to do was deliver.

  “Thank you for your faith in this effort,” the captain said. “We will do all in our power to bring back—”

  Chancellor Faber cut him off before he could finish. “We thank you for this possible avenue of rescue, Captain. And to show you and the Federation that we are committed to this plan, I am going to send my top advisors along with you to help in any manner possible. In fact, if the Council approves it, I will send with Captain Kirk my chief advisors—my daughter, Hannah, and Major Merling—to be our representatives to the Horta.”

  Hannah seemed startled, as if she hadn’t expected this turn of events. “But, Father . . . Chancellor . . . there is much to do in supervising the reconstruction of the blasted tunnels.”

  “Work that you have already set in motion,” Chancellor Faber answered. His expression softened. “The damage was extensive, and it is a forlorn hope that we will get them ready in time.”

  “But Chancellor, with redoubled effort—”

  “You could very well work yourself to death, Daughter, and to what purpose? No, it is not my wish,” Faber replied.

  “I will stay.”

  Her father stood up, glaring at Hannah and shaking his head.

  “I order you to go, Chief Advisor Faber,” he said. “This is the last chance to save our world, and I want my best team on it.” Faber turned to Major Merling, who sat nearby. “That’s why I’m also sending Merling here.”

  “Me? But Chancellor, I—”

  “That, too, is an order, Major,” Faber said quietly, but with steel in his voice. “I want you both to be available to the captain should he need any expert advice on Vesbius. And I want you both there as emissaries to represent Vesbian interests.”

  Kirk bridled at the idea that he wouldn’t have the colony’s best interests at heart. “Mister Chancellor, I assure you—”

  “Indulge me in this matter,” Faber said. “While we of Vesbius share much by way of culture and family ties with the Federation, we are not Federation members, and for this reason we must see to our own affairs. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I understand your reasoning,” Kirk said. “And, of course, I would be very happy to have these representatives on my ship.” Kirk shrugged. “But Chancellor, what of the autoimmune response?”

  Faber held up a palm to forestall this objection. “We will send along a supply of the suppression vaccine. Its effects vary, but its potency ought to be sufficient for this journey, provided you are not delayed too greatly.”

  “If we are delayed by much, the entire expedition will fail.”

  “Just so,” said Faber.

  As Kirk rose to leave, he heard the chancellor add in a soft voice: “And take care of my daughter, Captain. Whatever happens to our people and planet, look after her, will you?”

  Kirk felt the warmth of a father’s feeling—and felt it matched by a surge of feeling on his own part.

  I haven’t felt this strongly about a woman since . . . Miramanee, he thought, back on Amerind. And she is long dead now. Dead with the child she bore inside her. My child. Does this mean I have finally moved on? I can just draw further away from that terrible moment in time . . .

  But to love again . . .

  Kirk answered, “I’ll do everything in my power to protect Hannah. That’s a promise.”

  Seven

  Captain’s log, Stardate 6400.1. Having convinced the Vesbian Planetary Council that Mister Spock’s plan for recruiting Horta might have a chance of success, the Enterprise is en route to Janus VI. We shall attempt to contact the Horta and bring a contingent of them back to Vesbius. It is a risky plan with many unknowns, but given the circumstances, and the Vesbians’ unique relationship with their planet, it seems our only course of action.

  Warp factor eight was the highest speed of which the Enterprise was capable for sustained periods. But six days at warp eight was another matter entirely. It was all Scotty could do to hold the engines together as Kirk pushed them to their maximum limit and then kept them there. Everything had to fall into place very quickly for the plan to work, and there was no time for any delays. Nevertheless, Kirk felt the pain of his ship as she groaned and suffered under the immense load of acceleration through subspace. He was careful not to show his concern to the crew. And he did not think that anyone, even his closest compatriots, were aware of his semi-mystical attachment to the Enterprise.

  Fortunately, through Scotty’s engineering wizardry and a crew whose members were masters of navigation and handling the thousands of minute adjustments that traveling through subspace required, the Enterprise arrived at Janus VI overheated and strained, but intact. Taking things to the extreme was what a Constitution-class starship was meant to do, and the Enterprise had responded to the challenge, as Kirk had known she would.

  Hannah, her two bodyguards, and Major Merling had beamed up to accompany the ship on the voyage. Uhura had offered up her quarters for Hannah and had moved across saucer to bunk with another officer for the duration of this expedition. Uhura had taken most of her personal belongings but had left a few pieces of Earth art displayed on her walls. Hannah had made an excellent first impression on Uhura by pronouncing them charming and praising the communication officer’s taste as exquisite.

  “What a difference from that awful Elasian woman,” Uhura had said to Kirk.

  Ah, Elaan, now of Troyius, thought Kirk. Yes, Elaan and I gave Uhura’s quarters quite a workout.

  As if Uhura sensed that there was something more than met the eye between Hannah and her captain, she added, “I would say this one is a keeper, Captain.”

  “I really have no idea what you’re talking about, Lieutenant,” Kirk replied, but in a light tone to let her know he didn’t really mind the teasing.

  Uhura smiled and went to her station.

  Hox and Ferlein, Hannah’s aides cum bodyguards, were also housed on deck five, sharing a double-bunk quarters normally not in use. Major Merling proved to be the Vesbian most difficult to accommodate. Upon beaming aboard, he had insisted on being p
laced as far away as possible from Spock’s quarters, which required that he be assigned a junior officer’s cabin.

  In the close confines of the ship, however, Merling found complete separation from the Vulcan impossible. There was even a tense moment in the rec room when Merling entered to pick up some entertainment tapes and ran into Spock, who was playing three-dimensional chess with Ensign Perkins, one of Scotty’s young Turk wizards in engineering. The look of disgust that passed over Merling’s face was apparent to all in the rec room, and had Merling not made his exit immediately, there may have been trouble. While many humans on the Enterprise found Spock to be cold and off-putting, he was still one of them, and crew loyalty ran deep on the ship.

  Five days into the voyage Merling was forced to encounter Spock in the ship officers’ mess at a formal dinner that Kirk gave for his visitors on the trip out to Janus VI. Hannah and Merling were seated at places of honor, and all the attendees wore dress uniforms fit for the occasion. These included Spock, McCoy, Scotty, Sulu, and Uhura.

  Hox and Ferlein, the bodyguards, were also invited, but they had insisted on standing nearby and “observing,” as Ferlein put it. The two had mostly stayed in their quarters during the voyage and had split their time hovering over Hannah wherever she went. Each time they appeared, however, they looked noticeably more pasty-faced and sickly. The immune response had begun with them as well as with Hannah. Merling, so far, seemed to have avoided it, perhaps because he was not a Vesbian native and had had the gene therapy later in life.

  Hannah was not less beautiful, but she certainly was less vibrant, Kirk thought. She was alternately flush and pale, as if fever were running through her body. She had begun to tire more easily, but she was making up for this by sheer force of will. Hannah had been as ardent as ever with him as before, perhaps more so, sensing her coming illness.

  She had dutifully allowed McCoy to examine her and administer the daily immune-suppressant vaccine. McCoy had been entrusted with a large enough supply of the precious material to treat the Vesbians for a longer mission. The problem was, the vaccine didn’t seem to be working; or, if it was, it seemed to be losing effectiveness.