STAR TREK: TOS #12 - Mutiny on the Enterprise

by Robert E. Vardeman

  [123] Kirk looked up, then swallowed hard. A lump formed in his throat. Dangling above him impaled on a thick thorn was the security ensign who had attempted to go over the top. His body had begun decomposing; that didn’t bother Kirk as much as the way the thornbush grew about the corpse, as if it devoured the unlucky man.

  “Here it comes.” He swung the medkit around his head, then loosed it at the proper instant. It flew up and over the wall. He didn’t hear an impact inside. McCoy had fielded it perfectly.

  “There,” came the satisfied doctor’s voice. “I’ve got enough metamorphine to put this whole damn place to bed for a week.”

  “Do not inject enough to shock the thornbush, Doctor,” warned Spock. “Incapacity must overtake the creature too slowly to be noticed.”

  “You worry too much, Spock. I’m used to handling farm animals. They never knew what hit ’em when I worked on them.”

  “That certainly explains your bedside manner with the crew.”

  “Cut the chatter,” said Kirk, “and get to work. I’m afraid they’ll notice something’s wrong and close in on us. The creatures have to be able to hear us talking.”

  “Doubtful, Captain. No animal or vegetable creature seen to date has ears or earflaps or other hearing organs. Deafness extends throughout all species. When the entire planet is considered as one highly integrated organism, hearing is no more required than it is necessary for your foot to hear what your arm is doing.”

  “The analogy is rotten, Spock,” said McCoy. “My application of the tranquilizer is superb, however.”

  Even as he spoke, Kirk watched the vicious upthrusting thorns begin to sag slightly. The ensign’s body tumbled to [124] the ground not a meter away. By the time he was able to force himself to examine the young crewman, a way had opened in the thorn wall. Spock held rubbery thorns apart for McCoy, the three remaining security men and the two diplomats. Both Zarv and Lorritson came silently, subdued. No braggadocio, no false courage. They’d been stunned by all that had happened to them.

  “They ate Mek Jokkor,” muttered Lorritson as he passed through into freedom. “They ate him!”

  “Rather,” corrected Spock, “he was assimilated. Given a different circumstance, Mek Jokkor might have been most likely to establish rapport. He unfortunately appeared to menace the highly ordered life form of this world.”

  “Let’s get out of here and find a safe place in the woods,” said Kirk. “We’ve got to do some planning.”

  “Captain,” said Spock, “one place is identical with another as far as relative safety is concerned. We are free of the corral. I suggest we not waste time. As soon as Dr. McCoy’s potion wears off, an alarm will be sounded for us. If we do nothing to create a disturbance until then, we might as well stay here as be in the woods.”

  “It’s hard believing the entire world can spy on us—or detect us.”

  “That is a somewhat paranoid view, but in essence it is true enough. Now tell me what happened aboard the ship.”

  Kirk quickly outlined all that had happened, his voice becoming brittle and his bitterness rising to the surface as he talked. He finished by saying, “I thought better of them. Especially Scotty and the bridge crew. But they were as eager as any of the others to mutiny.”

  “You blame them wrongly, Captain,” said Spock. “Relieved of duty while incarcerated, I had the time and [125] opportunity to consider many facets of Lorelei’s presence. I surmised that she has more than histrionic talents.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She must be empathic. Sensing opposition, she changes the tenor of her argument until the listener is more responsive. In this fashion, she tailors the most successful argument for each person. Another aspect of this talent might be the ability to utter subsonic and ultrasonic harmonics.”

  “You mean she can adjust the pitch and timbre of her voice so that we don’t even know it? That’s pretty farfetched,” scoffed McCoy.

  “It explains her ease in converting the crew of a Federation starship to her pacifistic philosophy. In a way, she has patterned an individualized hypnotic speech for each crew member. She touches lines of thought we do not even recognize we entertain, then plays on them. Perhaps these touch our deepest fears, prejudices, ideas of honor and self.”

  “You’re saying Scotty and the others weren’t acting on their own?” Kirk clutched at this straw.

  “Lorelei affected them in a manner analogous to a drug in the bloodstream. The recipient is not responsible for the result; the person administering the drug is.”

  “You’re saying she’s a psychologist? That she drugs with words laced with hypnotizing harmonics? That’s putting a lot onto that slip of a girl.” McCoy squatted down and rummaged through his medkit, taking inventory of what he had with him.

  “It explains much. I also question the idea she is a girl, as you put it. I believe her to be much older than adolescent.”

  “Her age isn’t a matter of debate, gentlemen,” cut in Kirk. “Getting off this planet and regaining command of the Enterprise is.”

  “Whatever you do, we must act quickly,” spoke up [126] Donald Lorritson. “I ... I fear that the ambassador has been damaged.” He held up his hand as McCoy started for the Tellarite. “No, not in the body. There he is sound. He comes from sturdy stock. It’s his mind. Zarv has never suffered a defeat of this magnitude. The loss of a prized assistant has unnerved him, as have subsequent events.” Lorritson motioned toward the thorn pen.

  “He’s just depressed. He’ll snap out of it—if we get off this damn planet.”

  “Doctor, the proper term is ‘when’ and not ‘if.’ We shall soon have transport away.” Spock pointed into the cloudless sky.

  Kirk turned and peered into the sun. A shiny silver speck appeared, grew larger, then roared across the sky.

  “A shuttle craft!”

  “Precisely,” said Spock. “Our way off planet. Let’s hurry before we are missed.”

  The small party picked its way through the middle of the city, observing planetary protocol and never interrupting any creature at its duty. They reached the far side of the city and began a long trek out into the countryside.

  Twice as they marched the shuttle craft left and returned. Kirk said, “Must be loading shielding. Somehow Lorelei has convinced the planetary life form to give her the shielding.”

  “My tricorder is picking up traces of radioactivity. One of the life form’s fission-power plants is nearby.”

  “Where, Spock?” Kirk craned his neck. Low, rolling hills hid the horizon, but no evidence of elaborate facilities showed. “They have to supply it somehow and get the power out. There’s not even much in the way of a road here, much less power lines.”

  “Transportation is limited, Captain. What I have seen is [127] organically based. Some aerial craft resemble airplanes from Earth’s history, but they are organic constructs, just as the buildings are. Their resemblance is purely a matter of form being dictated by function and strict adherence to Bernoulli’s equation.”

  “There has to be heavy concrete and lead shielding, perhaps even force screens, for an atomic-power plant,” protested McCoy. “I figured that’s why the shuttle is landing nearby. Shielding material is mined nearby their plant so they don’t have to drag it so far.”

  “A logical deduction, Doctor. However, I have come to suspect that all is organically based on this planet. Even speaking of the inhabitants as ‘they’ might be in error.”

  “You’re saying only one life form runs everything?”

  “In the same way you are a single life form comprising mitochondria, nuclei, endoplasmic reticula, Golgi bodies, bacteria and viruses of various kinds and functions, indeed an entire army of creatures that makes you the entity you are.”

  “Each part we see—the trees, the grass, the road itself—are all just appendages to one giant creature?” asked Lorritson, showing the first sign of curiosity since leaving the thorny prison.

  “Integral parts. No
single one is vital, but all are necessary. It is difficult to conceive of all living things on a planet being aspects of the same creature, but I believe it is true here. If such is the case, the fission plant is likely to be organic in nature also.”

  “Organic fission isn’t the same as nuclear fission.” McCoy smirked.

  “I am aware of that. And, Doctor, you must be aware of naturally occurring nuclear reactors. One became critical and ran for hundreds of years on your Earth, on the continent of Africa. Pitchblende in an underground vein proved rich [128] enough to trigger fission. The rock of the continent itself contained the reaction. I contend such is the case here also.”

  “So the energy is used directly by the life form? There won’t be turbines and other mechanical gadgets?”

  “None,” Spock answered his captain.

  “Scotty’d be disappointed.”

  They walked to the top of a rise. Kirk spotted the facility first. Even as Spock had detailed, the fission reactor proved entirely organic, contained by huge, throbbing slabs of gray material that might have been animal muscle tissue.

  “Those bands of gray hold inorganic shields in place. The heat within the core of the natural reactor builds. Some creature, possibly designed or evolved for the task, absorbs the heat directly and conducts it to the life form outside the radiation area.”

  “Nothing can live within an atomic pile, Spock,” protested McCoy.

  “Doctor, your biological education is curiously stunted. Do you not attempt to examine all the peculiar forms of life that exist within the bounds of our universe? Many forms of bacteria not only thrive within boiling water, they flourish also in the high-radiation environment of an atomic reactor.”

  “Never heard of any such critter.”

  “They exist and have been known for centuries. They were well documented even in the twentieth century.”

  “Captain,” shouted one of the security men. “Look. There.”

  Kirk saw the shuttle roaring off from a quarry on the far side of the natural atomic reactor. The shuttle strained as it took to the air, trembling under the heavy load it carried. Without further discussion, Kirk motioned for the party to follow. If they hurried, they might arrive at the quarry site just before sundown.

  * * *

  [129] “Everything is as I surmised, Captain,” said Spock, his voice low. “Note how they all keep their communicators constantly linked with the Enterprise.”

  Kirk nodded. At times, he heard Lorelei’s voice. The volume on all the communicators in the hands of his hypnotized crew had been turned to maximum. While they were some distance away, he felt the tuggings as Lorelei spoke her persuasive words. Peace. Nonaggression. The True Path.

  Spock shook him out of his stupor. “Captain, if you concentrate too much, she will ensorcell you with her words—with her subsonics.”

  “I think you’re right, Spock. There’s no other reason for her to maintain such close verbal contact with the ground crew.”

  “The shielding is being mined by worms, sir,” came one of the security men’s report. “Giant worms with immense slasher mandibles. They cut through the rock just like they used atomic torches. Low-slung lizard creatures cart the cut slabs to the landing site, where we use antigrav lifters on it to get it into the shuttle. Where they use lifters,” he corrected, tenseness in his voice.

  “Relax, Mr. Neal, we’re not going to have to fight our crew. There’s got to be a better way.”

  “Thanks, sir. I ... I don’t like the idea of having to hurt any of them.”

  “Jim?” asked McCoy, fingers cutting into his arm. The doctor stared at the security officer.

  “No, it’s just his natural reluctance to harm his friends. I don’t care for it, either. Lorelei hasn’t got to him.” In a lower voice he added, “And I’ll see to it that she doesn’t.”

  They observed for some time while the last of the shielding was loaded. The shuttle again roared aloft, leaving behind a handful of crewmen. One of them placed his [130] communicator beside a tree. Lorelei’s voice boomed forth, vibrant and beguiling.

  “She’s talking to the planetary life form. She has the entire planet under her spell,” said Spock. “Is there any wonder she so captivated the crew?”

  “No,” said Kirk, suddenly tired. “She’s a marvel of persuasiveness. I only wonder how we’re going to get the Enterprise away from her.”

  For that Spock had no answer.

  Chapter Nine

  Captain’s Log, Stardate 4906.1

  We have secured a position on a hill overlooking the quarry where shielding for repair of the Enterprise’s engines is being mined. Tension mounts with each shuttleload of the shielding. There cannot be many more trips; the shuttle provides the only means of escaping this planet. Spock is unsure how much longer our presence will go undetected. As soon as the drug wears off on the thorny corral bush where he, McCoy and the others were imprisoned, the entire planet will be in an uproar. Escape must come soon—or we will never leave this planet alive.

  “I estimate three point seven nine six two metric tons of shielding will give Mr. Scott adequate radiation protection. [132] That means there will be only one more trip of the shuttle.”

  “Why didn’t they just beam it up?” asked McCoy. “It’s time-consuming to come and pick it up like they’re doing. Would it have angered the planetary life form?”

  “Even disregarding the problem with the transporter’s range-finder unit, Doctor, the sheer mass of shielding is too great to be beamed up. We are not talking about grams. Mr. Scott needed thousands of kilograms of mass to protect his workers as they repair the warp engines.”

  Silence fell. Shivers ran up and down Kirk’s spine. The utter solitude of the spot wore on his nerves. No crickets chirped, no birds sang, no animal sounds at all penetrated to their hideout, because there were no such sounds anywhere on the planet. All performed as a single unit.

  “When do you estimate the thornbush will begin throwing off the effects of the drug?”

  Spock looked toward McCoy, who sat sullen and withdrawn. “The metabolism of the bush is unknown, but it cannot be longer than a few more hours. When that occurs, we will become the hunted once again.”

  “It’s going to be cutting it close, no matter what. The last shuttle trip, the planet becoming aware of your absence, trying not to draw attention to ourselves until then.” Kirk heaved a deep sigh. “And then our problems will only be starting. Regaining control of the Enterprise won’t be an easy job.”

  “Lorelei has effectively bound all of the crew to her with the sonic hypnosis.”

  “It must go deeper than that, Spock,” mused Kirk. “Just seeing her, I feel ... different.”

  “It might not be a matter of sight as much as scent, in your case. She is of a different race, but her species pheromones might excite certain humans.”

  [133] “Such as myself?” Kirk asked, smiling slightly. “It’s possible. I did notice her perfume once. Thinking back, how could she have had any perfume? She didn’t bring anything but the clothing she wore when we rescued her from the derelict.”

  “The planet Hyla will make an interesting and most valuable addition to the Federation if we can find it for contact.”

  “ ‘If,’ Spock? You’re not turning into a pessimist, are you?”

  “I only state such matters in a statistical sense. The odds against our successfully escaping this planet are—”

  Kirk held up his hand and cut off his science officer’s answer. “That’s all right. You don’t need to be specific. We all know there’s not much hope.”

  “Hope, Captain? A purely human concept and one that does not sustain close analysis. It, like your bizarre idea of luck, actually refers to statistical concepts.”

  “Enough of this. Let’s go over the plan one last time for getting on board the shuttle. Nothing can go wrong.”

  “Sir, many things can go wrong. If—”

  “Spock, shut up,” said McCoy. “I’m tired of
you mouthing off all the time. I want to do something about it.” He rose and started toward the Vulcan. As the doctor stepped out, his foot hit a stump. The seemingly dead tree recoiled and roots began rising from the soil, curling in toward the central stalk.

  “Doctor, careful,” cautioned Spock, pointing. “All is interconnected. Tread softly.”

  “Damnedest place I ever saw. Even the earthworms complain if you stomp too hard on the ground.” He started to step down firmly, then hesitated. He gingerly walked the short distance and crouched beside Kirk and Spock. “All [134] right. I’m learning. Can’t knock out the entire planet, so I have to be careful.”

  “We won’t be able to rush the shuttle. We dare not take the chance of alerting the planetary life form that anything is amiss. On the other hand, we can’t just walk up without being spotted. There are guards posted while the actual loading is going on.”

  “We have hand phasers. Why not stun the guards, then take our sweet time waltzing over?” McCoy scratched his head and rocked back on his heels as they huddled together.

  “Alerting the life form is only part of our concern. If Lorelei gets even a hint that her shuttle has been hijacked, she won’t open the landing-bay doors. Or worse, she will leave orbit and find another planet to perform repairs. In either case, we are marooned.”

  “She has to believe everything is proceeding according to her plans,” agreed Kirk, hating the mention of any part of the Enterprise as being “hers.” We can take out the guards one by one and substitute our own men. But whoever is in command must remain so,, because Lorelei will check frequently.”

  “This is becoming more complicated than the strategy for the battle at Rift Twenty-three when the Romulans tried to drive a wedge through the center of the Federation.”

  “Bones, our success or failure might reflect on history. That sounds like this is being blown out of proportion, but it isn’t. Zarv and Lorritson still have a mission to perform. The Romulans aren’t going to wait for us. The Ammdon-Jurnamoria spate will be escalated into a full war without peaceful alternatives.”