Star Trek - Log 9

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Star Trek - Log 9 Page 10

by Alan Dean Foster


  How had the Pandronians known what signal to duplicate? And how had they managed to do it? Was Scott right? Had the captain and the others been captured? Or was there another, as yet unforseeable explanation?

  An excited yelp came from Communications, a cross between a growl and a shout.

  "Take it easy, Lieutenant M'ress," Uhura advised. "What is it?"

  "I have contact with the landing parrty. Lieutenant!" she replied gleefully. "It's weak, but coming thrrough."

  Uhura was hard pressed to keep her own enthusiasm in check. "Put them through."

  There was a beep, followed by a burst of white noise. Exotic sounds drifted over the bridge speakers, but Uhura didn't relax even when she heard a familiar, if distorted and slightly puzzled, voice.

  "Kirk here," the badly garbled acknowledgment came. "What's the trouble, Mr. Scott?"

  "Mr. Scott has been injured, Captain," she said quickly. "This is Lieutenant Uhura, acting in command."

  "Scotty hurt?" came the cry of disbelief. "What's going on up there, Lieutenant? Report in full."

  "We've been boarded, Captain. By Pandronians—three of them." She hesitated, then asked, "Are you sure you're speaking freely? If you can't, try to give me some sort of sign."

  There was a long pause and everyone on the bridge could hear Kirk discussing the incredible situation with someone else. A new voice sounded.

  "Spock here. We are perfectly all right, Lieutenant, and able to converse as freely as if we were at our stations. What is this about the ship's being boarded by Pandronians? Such a thing should not be possible. The Pandronians don't possess the requisite technology."

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Spock, but I want to make sure you're okay. What are you doing now, and where are you?"

  Mildly incredulous, the ship's first officer replied with forced calm, "We are at present aiding local authorities in an attempt to recover something called a Tam Paupa, which is vital to the maintenance of stable, friendly government on Pandro. That is not important at this time.

  "What is important, Lieutenant, is how Pandronians, and hostile ones at that, succeeded in gaining access to the Enterprise."

  "We don't know for certain," Uhura tried to tell them. "Somehow they managed to simulate the precise frequency of your hand communicators, in addition to duplicating the emergency beam-aboard signal in triplicate. Mr. Scott and Mr. Kyle naturally assumed you were broadcasting those signals and so locked in on them and beamed the villains aboard.

  "Instead of you, three Pandronians appeared. They used some kind of paralysis weapon to stun the chief, Mr. Kyle, and at least one entire security patrol. Nurse Chapel says it doesn't appear to be fatal, but all five people affected are still immobile. Mr. Scott can talk, but that seems to be about all."

  "What steps have you taken, Lieutenant?" Kirk demanded to know.

  "All security forces have been mobilized and are now hunting the Pandronians, Captain," she reported. "The ship is on full alert, and all personnel are aware of the Pandronians' presence."

  "What do they hope to achieve?" Kirk wondered aloud, static badly crippling the transmission.

  "Excuse me, Captain," Spock broke in, "but it seems clear that the Pandronians who boarded the Enterprise are in some way connected with those responsible for the theft of the Tam Paupa. Yet I do not understand how they could know we are aiding the government—or how they are performing technical feats supposedly beyond their capacity."

  "I want answers, Mr. Spock, not more questions. Stand by, Uhura."

  "Standing by, sir," she replied. There followed a period of intense discussion on the surface below, none of which came over the speakers understandably.

  Arex used the interruption to address the command chair. "Lieutenant Uhura?"

  "What is it, Mr. Arex?"

  The navigator looked thoroughly confused. "It is only that in routine observation of the surface below us, I have recently detected something which may be of interest."

  "What is it?"

  The Edoan manipulated instrumentation. A topographic photomap of a large section of Pandro was projected by the main viewscreen forward. A cross-hair sight appeared, was adjusted to line up on the map's northeast quadrant. Several concentric circles of lightly shaded blue were superimposed over the region, the colors intensifying near the cross hairs.

  "There seems to be an unexpectedly high level of controlled radiation active in this region," the navigator explained. "It is far more intense and sophisticated than anything else operating on Pandro, more concentrated even than anything in the capital city itself. It may be that it is a secret Pandronian installation."

  "Just a second, Lieutenant Arex. M'ress, switch the lieutenant's intercom into the ship-to-ground broadcast." The Caitian communications officer executed the command, and Arex repeated the information for the benefit of those on the ground.

  "Most interesting, Mr. Arex," came Spock's reply after the navigator had finished relaying his discovery. "Could you compare the center of radiant generation with our present position? Dr. McCoy will also activate his communicator to provide you with our most powerful detectable signal."

  Several anxious moments followed during which M'ress pinpointed the source of the communicator broadcast. She then relayed the coordinates to Arex, who compared them with the location of the cross hairs on the photomap, then gave the information to Spock.

  "Most interesting," the first officer replied in response, without bothering to indicate why it was so intriguing. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

  "Uhura?" Kirk's voice sounded again. "Maintain red alert until the Pandronians are taken—alive, if possible. We believe they may have something to do with a tiny but dangerous rebel faction that opposes the constituted Pandronian government. But we don't know how they're doing what they're doing, or why.

  "You can regard them as dangerous fanatics liable to try anything, no matter how insane. If they belong to the same group, they've already committed the ultimate act of outrage against their people. Consider humans in a similar position and treat these boarders likewise. But no killing if it can be avoided."

  "We'll watch ourselves, Captain," Uhura assured him firmly. "Make sure you watch yourselves."

  "Advice received and noted, Lieutenant. Contact us when something has been resolved—if you're able. The radiation Mr. Arex detected is undoubtedly responsible for our difficulties in communication. Kirk out"

  "Enterprise out," Uhura countered.

  Kirk put his communicator away, turned his attention to his first officer. Spock was making sketches on a small pad. "Tendrazin is here, Captain," he explained, indicating a small circle. "Our present position is approximately here, according to Mr. Arex's information."

  Kirk called Commander bn Bem over and showed him Spock's sketch, explaining what the symbols meant.

  "Yes, correct is," the Pandronian agreed, indicating the distances and relationships of Tendrazin and their current location.

  "We are traveling in this line," Spock continued, using stylus and pad to elaborate. "The source of the unusual radiation, as detected by instruments on our ship, Commander, lies about here." He tapped an X mark slightly north and west of their present position. "Almost in a direct line with our present course away from Tendrazin. Does the Pandronian government or any private Pandronian concern operate an installation in that area which might produce such radiants?"

  "In the varbox?" bn Bem stammered unbelievingly. "I have from home away been, but not so long as that. But to make certain is always good idea." He called out in Pandronian.

  eb Riss joined them, giving Spock's crude map sketch a quick, curious glance. "Have in this region," and bn Bem pointed to the radiation source, explaining its meaning, "any government posts been emplaced since my leaving?"

  eb Riss's reaction was no less incredulous than the commander's. If anything, Kirk felt, it was more intense. "In that area lies nothing—nothing," he told them assuredly. "Is most intense and unwholesomest swampland. In such territories exist
the most dangerous lifeforms in constant state of battle and recombination. No sane Pandronian would there go, and total Mad One would live not to reach it."

  "Our readings wouldn't be off so drastically," Kirk informed him. "There is unquestionably a great deal of activity of a sophisticated nature going on there."

  "Natural sources, maybe?" ventured eb Riss.

  Kirk shook his head slowly. "Absolutely not. The quality and kind of radiation stamp it as artificial in source. If it was natural, Lieutenant Arex wouldn't have bothered to mention it to us unless it was dangerous."

  "Is all very hard to believe," eb Riss muttered. "Certain is This One no representative of Pandro government there has been. No private group could build installation there, not even stealers of Tam Paupa. Must be mistaken your ship's detectors."

  "Unlikely," Spock said sharply. "Nor is Lieutenant Arex the type to make such a report without triple-checking his readings."

  "Are you so sure the rebels couldn't have a hideout in that area?" McCoy pressed bn Bem.

  "Are mad and evil the blasphemers, McCoy Doctor," the commander admitted, "but suicidal are not. Remember, ourselves would not be here now if not with aid of your advanced energy weapons. Life forms here and certainly there would overwhelm These Ones, even with fasir to defend us. Mad Ones have no such helping." He looked to eb Riss for confirmation.

  "To knowledge of This One, no Pandronian has ever entered great swamps—or at least, entered and come out again to tell of it." eb Riss indicated agreement

  "And still," Kirk murmured thoughtfully, "Arex insists there's something in there. Something throwing off a lot of controlled energy. Something that's been interfering with our communications to the Enterprise." He eyed bn Bem firmly.

  "Whatever it is, it's not very far off our present path. It'll be interesting to see if your tracker leads us toward that area. Don't you think that would be a mite suspicious, if these coryat tracks curve toward the radiation source?"

  "All may come to be, Kirk Captain," eb Riss admitted, "but if does, tracks will there end. Not best tracker on Pandro can follow prints in swamplands."

  "They won't have to," Spock explained to the pessimistic Pandronian. He flourished the map sketch. "The Enterprise has located the source of radiation. If we turn toward it, we need only continue on through the swamp in its direction. If required, we can recheck our position at any time by contacting the ship. Provided," he added cautioningly, "communications interference grows no worse."

  "Very well so," eb Riss said, dropping his objections. "If holds true, we must proceed toward suspected radiation source." Evidently the Pandronian officer still refused to believe that any Pandronians could have constructed something in the inimical swamplands. "But only if coryat tracks lead there and no place else."

  "I disagree," bn Bem said firmly. Kirk and the others looked at the commander in surprise. "I enough have seen of Federation science facilities to know that what Enterprise officers say is truth." He gestured with a furry arm into the jungle ahead.

  "Could be circling track designed to throw off any pursuings. Could follow we coryat tracks for many fluvets and find nothing save more coryat tracks. Enterprise findings to me significant are. I think we to radiation source should proceed, no matter where go coryat prints."

  "I concur not, Commander," objected eb Riss strongly. When bn Bem merely stared back, the other Pandronian made a hand movement indicative of resignation. "But is outranked This One. It as you say will be."

  "Slateen," bn Bem announced in Pandronian. "Is settled, then. We toward there turn," and he pointed to the X on Spock's map.

  eb Riss headed back to ready his own troops and to mount the lead zintar. As McCoy walked toward his own patiently waiting dragon he jerked a thumb toward the forest, toward the two huge trees their assailant of the previous night had tried to break through.

  "Apparently," he told bn Bem, "we're heading into an especially bad area. Does that mean we're likely to encounter any more visitors like last night's?"

  "Is not likely, McCoy Doctor," the commander informed him.

  McCoy was surprised, but relieved, bn Bem added, "Creature that attacked us last night would not be able to compete with dangerous animals in swamplands."

  "Oh," was all McCoy said, trying to conjure up an image of something that could take the monster of the forest apart integral by integral.

  "Surely the thought of confronting larger primitive carnivores does not intimidate you, Doctor," Spock declared. "You have faced far more dangerous creatures on other worlds, which could not stand up to a type-two phaser."

  "It's not that, Spock," the doctor explained. "It's just that the Pandronians don't even know what might be festering and growing out there. How can they, when potential antagonists break up and form new combinations every couple of days? I can take the thought of coming up against all kinds of different killers, but the idea of facing something never before in existence until it stands up and screams in your ear, and doing that maybe a couple of times a day, is a bit overpowering."

  "It does reduce one's ability to prepare for defense," the first officer had to admit. "Still, that only adds to the interest of the occasion. Imagine being able to remain in one place for a while and watch evolution take place around you."

  "Thanks just the same, Spock," McCoy replied. "Me, I think I'd prefer a little more biological stability." And he shivered slightly in a cool morning breeze as the howls, hoots, and shrieks of creatures which had only just come into being sounded the arrival of a new day.

  VII

  The low-intensity blast of a phaser set on stun exploded on the wall behind one of the three Pandronians. That was followed immediately by a distant cry of "There they are! Notify all other units."

  The Pandronian that the bolt had just missed shouted to his companions. Together they increased their pace as they ran down the corridor.

  In addition to hearing the faint call with their own auditory organs, the boarders had also detected it far more clearly over the pocket communicators each of them carried. Although those communicators differed substantially from Federation issue, they still received the on-board broadcasts of the Enterprise with shocking electronic competence.

  Their very presence was something no one—not Scott, not Uhura, nor anyone else striving to locate the three intruders—could have suspected. So even as instructions to various security units and the rest of the crew were being sent through the ship, the Pandronians who were the subject of all the conversation were overhearing every word.

  At that very moment the interlopers were listening to instructions passed to a large security team close ahead, directing them to block off the corridor. While the three had managed to evade the group which had nearly caught up with them, they knew that couldn't last much longer. More and more security teams were concentrating in this area, sealing off every possible escape route.

  Or so they thought.

  Realizing the importance of the narrowing cluster of pursuers, the Pandronians did a curious thing. They stopped. The tallest of the three fumbled with his backpack and removed a small box. A tiny screen was set on top of it with controls below.

  Once activated, the screen began to display a rapidly shifting series of schematics and diagrams. Not everyone could have recognized them, but an engineer would have known what they were instantly. They displayed, in excellent detail, the inner construction of a Federation heavy cruiser.

  The operator touched a switch, freezing one diagram on the screen. All three Pandronians examined it. This was followed by a brief, intense discussion after which they hurried on down the corridor once more.

  Very soon they came to a small subcorridor. Instead of rushing past, they turned down it. The subcorridor was a dead end, according to the diagram, but the Pandronians were not looking for an appropriate place to be captured or commit suicide.

  Stopping near the end of the subcorridor, one of them opened a carefully marked door on the right. It opened into a cramped
room, two walls of which were lined with controls. The largely automatic devices were not what interested the Pandronians, however.

  By standing on a companion's shoulders, the tallest of the three was just able to reach the protective screen in the roof. The lock-down seals at each of the screen's four corners opened easily. According to the diagram they had just studied on the tiny display screen, this shield opened into a ventilation tube. Said tube executed several tight twists and turns before running down the section of the ship they desired to traverse.

  Once the shield screen had been opened, the third Pandronian closed the door behind them and then climbed up onto his two companions and pulled himself into the tube above. Reaching down, he helped the first one, then the other into the shaft.

  Turning in the cramped quarters, the last Pandronian to crawl in reached down to reseal the lock-downs from inside, using a small hand tool from his own pack to reach through the fine mesh to the locks on the outside.

  Very soon thereafter, six armed security personnel turned down that same dead-end corridor in the course of scouring every possible avenue of escape. They moved to its end. With five phasers covering him, the ensign in charge tried first the door on the left. All instruments inside the little room appeared undisturbed and registering normally.

  Then he turned to tie door on the right. The room beyond was likewise deserted. "No sign of them." He turned to leave.

  "Just a minute, sir," one of the crew said. "Shouldn't we check out that overhead vent?"

  The ensign retraced his steps, leaned back to stare up at the uninformative grill overhead. "Could they have slipped in there?" He wondered aloud. "It doesn't seem likely, but we'd better make certain." He pulled out his communicator.

  "Engineering?"

  "Engineering. Lieutenant Markham here," came the crisp reply.

  "This is Security Ensign Namura. We're hunting the Pandronian boarders, and just now I'm standing in ventilation operations cubicle"—he peered around at the open door—"twenty-six. There's a sealed ventilation shaft overhead. Could a man crawl through it?"

 

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