The vines recoiled and shriveled, sinking back into the soil. But response came from all other quarters. A furred leg batted the weapon from his grip. Tendrils snaked up to grip his legs. Lorritson already flopped about on hands and knees, unable to stand. Kirk fought, but to no avail. The force of an entire planet weighed against him.
“Spock!” he screamed. “Take off. Leave me. Get the Enterprise back. Stop Lorelei!”
His stoppered ears did not permit him to hear the exchange between Spock and McCoy. He saw his science officer shove McCoy back, then slam down the hatch. An odd combination of pride and fear racked him. Spock had sense enough to obey. The Enterprise would be retaken. But abandonment now meant death.
The shuttle engines flared into life. Hot exhaust gases lashed his face, his hands, his entire body.
[146] But the Galileo Seven did not blast off. Spock turned the shuttle so that the engine-igniter flames continued to spew backward. Kirk fought even harder when he realized what Spock was doing. He still had a chance to escape. The heat caused the life form assailing him to wither, to loosen its grip. He kicked away vines, shoved off groping hands, struggled forward into the teeth of the blast.
“Hurry, Captain. I cannot hold this much longer.” The words came muffled and indistinct, but he knew. He jerked free of the last vine holding him and rushed for the shuttle hatch. Strong hands pulled him inside.
“Zarv, Lorritson, both died,” he managed to say.
“You’re alive,” he heard someone shout.
Then, as the shuttle engines flared to full-throated life and the pressure of intense acceleration slammed him into steel deck plates, Jim Kirk passed out. His last thoughts were of death and ... Lorelei.
Chapter Ten
Captain’s Log, Stardate 4908.0
It is hard to believe that escape from the uni-life planetary system might be the easiest part of regaining control of the Enterprise. Lorelei’s hold on the crew is as sure as if she had them chained—surer. The silver curtain of her words has woven them into a bind that will take time and effort to correct. We have no time left.
“Be careful, Spock. You’re getting too close.”
“Doctor, I am a qualified pilot. I need not be warned of such elementary concerns. Please tend to your patients. I can only hope that your medical skills surpass your piloting abilities.”
[148] “As you were,” snapped Kirk, forcing himself to sit upright. He remembered passing out on the steel deck plates. He now rested in one of the padded acceleration couches. He had no memory of being lifted and strapped in. “Report.”
“Sir, we are less than a thousand meters from the Enterprise. Mr. Scott has contacted those in the landing bay. The bay doors are opening in response. We will soon be berthed.”
“Aye, Captain, Look. The repairs are goin’ accordin’ to plan.” Scotty pushed past his captain to point through the tiny windows. “The shieldin’s in place and they canna work faster. Bonny lads and lasses.” He beamed in pleasure at the sight of the matter-antimatter pods being reconstructed so expertly. One entire warp engine had been stripped and repaired. The shielding hovered just millimeters from the deadly antimatter, held in place by invisible force fields. When finished, the magnetic bottles would be re-formed and the potent power source for the starship reignited.
“We’ve got seven men able to withstand Lorelei’s voice. Will it be enough?” Kirk wondered out loud.
“I have considered this point, Captain. If we stun those in the landing bay, we can gain immediate entry to the engineering levels. From there, it is simple enough to trigger the sleep-gas canisters. While it is an inconvenience to allow four hundred and twenty-three of the crew to so abandon their duties simultaneously, it is better than attempting a piecemeal conquest.”
“As usual, Spock, your analysis is masterful.” Kirk sighed. “I wish it were possible to do it that way. Lorelei has had free run of the ship. She’s probably disconnected the sleep-gas canisters.”
“It is a peaceful device, Captain. Is that not the basis for her philosophy?”
“It can be turned against her. Her takeover wasn’t [149] immediate. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to find that most of the internal defense devices have been deactivated.”
“Even if they were workin’,” said Scotty, “many of the crew are outside. The least squawk, and an entire engineerin’ team will be down on you.”
“They can’t physically oppose us if they believe in pacifism,” burst in Mr. Neal. “That’s something we have over them. We can fight and they can’t.”
“They’re still friends and crewmates, mister,” Kirk said sharply. “And pacifism doesn’t mean they can’t imprison us for our own good. They outnumber us sixty to one. Our only advantage is surprise.”
“And speed. We can move quick if we have to.”
“Aye, speed. Surprise,” agreed Scotty. “But if you’re thinkin’ the sleepy gas is nae gonna work, what are we to do?”
“We take Lorelei prisoner. Hold her in an isolation detention cell and prevent her from contacting any of the others. If the sleep gas works, fine. If not, her sonic influence will decrease.”
“It will be an exponential decrease,” said Spock. “The first few days will show the most rapid decline in influence; then it will tail off. When we return to starbase, it might be required that a full psychological profile be worked for each crew member.”
“Except yourself, of course,” said McCoy. “You Vulcans are impervious to her charms, I take it?”
“I detect only small influences on my own behavior. Unlike humans, we are able to logically cross-check our actions. Now, Doctor, if you will excuse me for a moment, I must dock this craft.”
Ahead, bay doors yawned wide. Spock expertly guided them through and touched down with the slightest of shocks. He glanced at Kirk, who stood shakily, regaining his [150] equilibrium after the blow to his head. In his hand he clutched a phaser, set on stun.
“Let’s go. Lorelei will probably be on the bridge. Phaser-stun as many as you can, don’t allow anyone to escape and spread the alarm, and I’ll see you when we’re in charge again.”
“Good luck, Captain.” Spock solemnly nodded, then clutched Kirk’s shoulder.
James T. Kirk turned and signaled Neal to open the hatch. Even before the hatch had risen all the way, Kirk sent a flashing red beam of phaser fire through the opening. Two landing-bay technicians slumped, unconscious. The marauders piled out, firing quickly at unsuspecting targets.
Finally Scotty said, “There’s the lot, Captain. Let me report in to the wee lass on the bridge.” He flipped open his communicator and said, “Lorelei, this is Scott reportin’ a successful return. The last of the shieldin’ is bein’ unloaded now.”
“Very good, Mr. Scott. You have done well.” Kirk watched as the expression on Scotty’s face altered slightly. Even with the wax plugging his ears, he heard enough of the alien woman’s beguiling words to feel the tug back toward servitude. Kirk reached out and shook his engineer. Scotty blinked and quickly nodded. He wouldn’t succumb easily. Not again.
At a dead run, they reached the turboelevator and crowded within. The wax robbed them of the usual sounds, the whishing past floors, the electronic hums, the soft grating of metal on metal as the door opened onto the bridge. Kirk took two quick steps forward.
Lorelei sat in his command seat, attention focused on the viewscreen. Kirk’s gaze flickered from the woman to the picture of his crew diligently working on engine repair, then returned. In that fraction of a second, Lorelei had [151] sensed the intrusion and hit the alarm button. Red lights flared and the general-quarters warning flashed on and off.
Spock and Kirk began firing their phasers. Chekov and Sulu slumped forward, stunned. Uhura tried to interpose her body between the beams and Lorelei’s slim body. She succeeded in taking a double blast. All the while, Lorelei moved quickly to the emergency stairs leading to the deck below.
Air blew against Kirk’s back. He spun, to fa
ce the closed doors to the turbolift. McCoy and Neal had gone down, to try to head off the Hylan. The others on the deck rushed forward, only to be stunned by Spock’s accurate fire. In less than fifteen seconds, all lay peacefully dozing.
“Damn, Spock, she got away from us.”
“We have control of the ship, Captain. The bridge is vital if she wants to regain power.”
Kirk dropped into his seat, flipped a code on the buttons and waited. No red lights blossomed on Chekov’s panel.
“She deactivated the gas canisters, as I thought she might. We may have the bridge, but she has the rest of the ship. By the time she reaches auxiliary control, we’re going to have a problem on our hands.”
“The turbolift is now disabled. The only way to reach the bridge is up the stairwell.”
“Or through the dome.” Kirk looked up at the glasteel skylight magnifying the stars. An atomic torch might cut through it in a few minutes. They’d have warning, but it’d avail them little. The sudden decompression would kill them. He tried to force from his mind the thought of the engineering team working on the dome rather than the warp drive. His frontal attack had almost succeeded.
A near miss—and in this case, a millimeter might as well have been a parsec. Lorelei had escaped unscathed, in [152] full control of the crew and able to bide her time. For Kirk and the others, time worked as their enemy.
“Sir, I have Mr. Scott on the intercom.”
“Report, Scotty.”
“I have secured a portion of the engine room. Heather McConel is likely to be back in full form soon enough. The lass seldom washed her ears.” He chuckled at this. “The others, now, they’ll pose a wee problem. I have them locked in a tool bin.”
“Weld the door shut. And weld shut the door leading into the engineering section. We didn’t get Lorelei. She will have the rest of the crew down on our necks any minute now. The best we can do is slow her down.”
“Aye, aye, sair.”
Scotty clicked off, leaving Kirk to his bleak thoughts. The hum of Spock’s phaser pulled him back. Three crewmen collapsed at the head of the stairs. When the turbolift doors opened, Kirk was ready. His phaser stunned six inside. The doors closed and the elevator dropped back.
“I thought you had the turboelevator shut down.”
“Sorry, Captain. Lorelei has established herself in the auxiliary command post. She overrode me.”
“Is there any part of the ship you have total control over?”
“Negative, sir. Mr. Scott might allow me some slight control, but with the warp engines still powered down and most internal energy coming from batteries and impulse power, there is not a great deal we can do.”
“Shut off the air-circulating fans. We were only running them at fifty percent.”
“Lorelei has overriden control already. We cannot affect any of the life-support units. Nor can I overload by switching in other power-draining equipment.”
“Keep trying. We can’t give it up now. We can’t.”
[153] Even as he spoke, the viewscreen blurred and the repair crew vanished, to be replaced by Lorelei’s sad face.
“James? It is truly you. You are a most remarkable man. It is a pity you so steadfastly refuse to forsake the ways of violence.”
Kirk swallowed hard. Even the sight of the woman affected him. Pheromones, harmonics, more? He didn’t know. The wax filtered out the worst of her persuasive tones, but he still shivered at the impact of her words.
“Filter her down even more, can you, Spock?”
“At once, Captain.”
The picture remained, but herringbone patterns crisscrossed her visage now. The words came slurred and indistinct, but Kirk still understood them all too well.
“You cannot escape or triumph. Please surrender, James. I do not wish to see you come to any harm.” When he did not respond, she smiled sadly and added, “Your Dr. McCoy has been captured.”
“Bones!” Kirk half-rose, hands on the armrests, poised to explode outward.
“He will be beamed back to the planet. I will try to explain to the being comprising that planet of the situation. No disciplinary action will be taken against McCoy. He must only learn to live in harmony with the ecosystem.”
“You’ll kill him. None of us can live there. We’re intruders. That’s a totally symbiotic system!”
“I have the screen set for mark two filter, Captain. She can neither see nor hear you clearly.”
“She’s got McCoy.” He sank back into his seat, suddenly weary to the core of his soul.
“James, please do not react in so violent a fashion.” Kirk repeatedly rammed his fists into the armrests of his [154] command seat. He trembled with the need to act, to do something—and the frustration of being totally helpless. “Dr. McCoy is not being harmed. If anything, he is better off now than when you sneaked back aboard. Many minor injuries have been tended to. Nurse Chapel is quite able to handle such wounds as the doctor sported.”
“Lorelei, you’re going to beam him back down to the planet.”
“I cannot have dissension among the crew. Violence is a seed spawning nothing but more violence. I tried to reason with you and failed. McCoy is similarly committed to a course at odds with the True Path.”
“He’ll die on the planet. The ecosystem is—”
“I am aware of the unified order of life on the planet,” the woman broke in. Kirk felt the vibrancy of her voice, the light she brought to an otherwise darkened universe. She promised so much. Why did he oppose her so? Peace was his for the asking. All he had to do was to listen, to listen, to listen.
“Captain,” shouted Spock, breaking the spell the Hylan wove around him. “It is not wise conversing with her for even short periods of time.”
Jim Kirk shook himself. The wax in their ears did not do more than take the edge off the woman’s harmonic attacks. She pitched her voice perfectly, insidiously. But he resisted, knowing what weapon he faced. A weapon was the only way he could consider her voice.
It didn’t matter that what Lorelei preached—and truly believed, he was certain—was peace. That philosophy would cause any human to die quickly on the planet below. Kirk wondered if Lorelei herself could survive in the uni-life-form system. It transcended symbiosis; it became one huge organism living and responding as a unit. Anyone—human, Hylan, Tellarite—that intervened became a cancer to be [155] removed before the system suffered. It was a potent evolutionary development, and one Kirk wished he and his crew had time to study further—at their leisure and in such a way that the life form did not view them as intruders.
“Lorelei, don’t send McCoy back down to the planet. He doesn’t belong there.”
“He no longer fits in aboard the Enterprise, either, James. Nor do you. In the scheme of things, the old order must make way for the new. You are not adaptive enough to embrace the ways of peace. The ways of war are no longer needed.”
“Lorelei,” he started, then switched off the viewscreen. An exterior view of the repair work being finished on the port engine replaced the woman’s drawn face.
“This is quite a strain on her,” he told Spock. “Do you see the sadness in her eyes, the way she looks?”
“Undoubtedly it is a strain, Captain. She cannot like what she does in the name of peace. Any being proclaiming allegiance to pacifism knows the planet below will slay. She is only offering a tenuous chance to survive.”
“It is an effort,” mused Kirk.
“No, Jim, that won’t be good enough to defeat her. She conserves her personal strength well.”
“I can’t let her send McCoy down. I’ll stop her. Spock, keep trying to box her in with the controls. I’ll try to rescue McCoy in the transporter.”
“Sir, I have an idea that might work. It requires considerable computer work on my part, however.”
“Get me down to the transporter room; then do what you have to.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Ready.”
The doors to the turbolift slipped open. Kirk w
alked forward as if he marched into the maw of a giant beast preparing to devour him. Never had he felt more alone than when the doors slid shut and the elevator dropped at [156] breath taking speed. Kirk had barely steeled himself for the hostile reception committee waiting as the doors opened on the transporter deck.
Swift reflexes saved him. Half a dozen members of a security team bracketed the hall, phasers set on stun. His own phaser fired first, slid along the line of waiting guards and dropped them in one efficient motion. Lorelei controlled his crew, but their reflexes had yet to adapt to her words. They fought themselves, her enforced philosophy eventually triumphing. But the small delay between obedience to the Hylan and her pacifistic views and attacking a senior officer gave Kirk a slight edge.
The last of the security force had barely touched the deck when he burst into the transporter room. The transporter chief readied the unit and McCoy stood, hands bound behind his back.
“Off the plate, Bones,” he yelled. “Deactivate transporter, Mr. Kyle.” Again came the slight confusion, the merest of time lags. Kyle wanted to obey his captain; training so instilled died hard.” But Lorelei had ordered him to beam down the doctor.
“Captain, I—” was all Kyle said before the phaser sent him reeling, to hit the wall and slide to the deck, unconscious.
“It’s good to see you, Jim. You sure do cut it fine.”
“Never mind that. We’ve got to get back to the bridge. Spock is trying to hold together what little control we have from there.”
“How’d you get here? She took over from auxiliary.” McCoy rubbed his wrists to get back the circulation that had been cut off due to the tightly fastened ropes.
“I ... I don’t know. Spock must have done it.”
“No, James, I allowed it. Keeping you and the Vulcan [157] together did not seem a good tactic for me.” Her voice boomed from the intercom near the transporter console.
STAR TREK: TOS #12 - Mutiny on the Enterprise Page 13
