Star Trek - Blish, James - 08 Read online

  She went to the grille to whisper to Kirk. "Captain, don't worry. It's not to be believed-the way he's fus-ing ganglia, nerve endings, even individual nerves al-most too small to see-and as if he'd been doing it all his life."

  "How much longer?" Kirk said.

  "I can't tell, sir. He's going so much faster than is humanly possible."

  "Time is important," he said. "There's no way of knowing how long we can count on this increased surgical knowledge to last."

  Kara suddenly sobbed. Kirk placed an arm about her shoulder. "What is it?" he said.

  "You will have him back. But we are destroyed."

  He led her out into the corridor. "No," he said, "you are not destroyed. You'll have no Controller and that will be fine. You will have to come up from below and live on the surface."

  "We will die in the cold."

  "No, you won't. We will help you until you can help yourselves. You will build houses. You'll learn to keep warm by working to keep warm. You'll learn how to be women instead of hothouse plants."

  "Captain Kirk!"

  Nurse Chapel was at the Sickbay door. "You'd better come quickly, sir!"

  McCoy had stopped working. He had backed away from the operating table. He looked sick. "I-can't I-I can't..."

  "He's forgetting, Captain," said Nurse Chapel.

  "Bones!" Kirk called through the grille.

  McCoy stumbled toward him. "All the ganglia-the nerves-a million of them-what am I supposed to do with them? The thalamus-the pallium..."

  "Bones! You can't stop now!"

  Nurse Chapel, her eyes on the life support indicator, said, "Doctor-the cerebral spinal fluid is almost exhausted."

  McCoy groaned. "But-I don't know what to do. It's gone-I don't remember-no one can replace a brain!"

  "But you could, Bones! It was child's play just a short while ago!"

  "It's all gone, Jim. He's going to die-and I can't stop it!"

  "Dr. McCoy."

  Half-strangled, choked, it was nevertheless Spock's voice. They stared at the body on the sheeted table. McCoy was astounded into asking, "Spock, did you speak? How did you speak?"

  "If you will finish connecting my vocal cords, I may be able to help."

  McCoy rushed behind the shield. He chose an in-strument. Then he discarded it, picked up another one and gave a brisk order to Nurse Chapel. Spock sudden-ly coughed. The voice came a little stronger. "Good, One thing at a time. Now, Doctor, try the sonic separa-tor. No discouragement..."

  "No, Spock-it's been like trying to thread a needle with a sledgehammer."

  "No discouragement," Spock repeated. "I already have feeling, sensation. Now stimulate the nerve end-ings and observe the reactions. I shall tell you when the probe is correct. When I tell you, seal the endings with the trilaser connector."

  Kirk spoke to McCoy. "Well?"

  His answer came in a slight hum from behind the shield. Through the grille, he could see Spock's arms move, moving normally, up and down, bending nor-mally at the elbow.

  "Very good," Spock said. "Now, Doctor, please move to reconnect the major blood vessels. Begin with the carotid artery."

  His face drawn with strain, McCoy glanced over at Kirk. "Even if this works," he said, "I'll never live it down-this confounded Vulcan telling me how to operate!"

  Relief swamped Kirk. They were back at the old bickering. McCoy had paused to allow Nurse Chapel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He returned to work and Spock said, "They are sealed, Doctor."

  "Are they, Bones?"

  McCoy raised his head. "How do I know? He knows. I've probably made a thousand mistakes- sealing individual nerve endings, joining ganglia. The fluid balance is right but-I don't know."

  Nurse Chapel was wiping his forehead again when Spock's eyelids flickered. The eyes opened. Spock lifted his head and his eyebrows went up into the arch McCoy thought never to see again. He shouted, "Jim!"

  Kirk strode behind the shield. Spock was sitting up. "Gentlemen," he said, "it is a pleasure to see you again."

  "Spock-Spock," Kirk said-and swallowed. "How do you feel?"

  "On the whole, I believe I am quite fit, sir."

  He started to get off the table. "For the Lord's sake, take it easy!" Kirk yelled.

  Spock winced under a twinge of pain. "Perhaps you are right, Captain. I seem to have something of a headache. Perhaps I had better close my eyes."

  "You are going to sleep and sleep and sleep," Kirk said.

  Spock sleepily closed his eyes and immediately opened them in obvious surprise. "The eyelids work," he said. "Fascinating! It would seem, Doctor, that few of your connections were made in error."

  "I performed a miracle of surgery on you to get you back into one piece," McCoy said.

  "Doctor, I regret that I was unable to provide you with a blueprint."

  McCoy turned to Kirk. "What I'll never know is why I reconnected his mouth to his brain."

  Scott came out of the bridge elevator.

  "Our technical aid teams have been beamed down to Planet 7, Captain."

  "First reports, Mr. Scott?"

  Scott rubbed his chin. "Well, sir, restoring friendly relations between its males and females won't be easy. Neither sex trusts the other one."

  "How very human," commented Spock.

  "And very cold," McCoy put in. "Especially the women. However, the aid parties have provided the ladies with a tool for procuring food, furs and fuel from the men."

  "Oh?" Kirk turned from one to the other. "Money?"

  "No, sir," Scott said. "Perfume."

  "I'm not given to predictions, gentlemen, but I'll venture one now," Kirk told them. "The sexual conflict on Planet 7 will be a short one."

  "I fail to see what facts you base your prediction on, Captain," Spock said.

  "On long, cold winter nights, Mr. Spock-on the fact that cuddling is so much warmer than wood fires."

  "Cuddling, sir?"

  "A human predilection, Spock," McCoy said. "We don't expect you to know about it."

  "Of course not, Doctor. It is a well-known fact that we Vulcans propagate our race by mail." He grinned.

  "Spock!" McCoy shouted. "You smiled! No, by George, you positively grinned!"

  "Another tribute to your surgery, Doctor. I was en-deavoring to sneeze."

  "Well, of all the ungrateful patients I-" McCoy began indignantly. It was with a real effort that Kirk maintained the gravity that seemed appropriate to the old, familiar, comfortable occasion. And sure enough, Spock nodded politely to the outraged McCoy and returned to his station.

  In the end, Kirk couldn't maintain it. He laughed-a laugh of delighted affection. To the smiling Sulu beside him, he said, "We're through here, Mr. Sulu. Warp factor three."

  THE ENEMY WITHIN

  (Richard Matheson)

  The planet's desert terrain had yielded an interesting roundup of mineral and animal specimens, and Kirk was busy checking the containers for beam-up to the Enterprise when a gust of icy wind blew a spray of sand in his face. Beside him, Sulu, holding a meek doglike creature on a leash, shivered.

  "Temperature's beginning to drop, Captain."

  "Gets down to 250 degrees below at nightfall," Kirk said. He blinked the sand out of his eyes, stooped to pat Sulu's animal--and wheeled at the sound of a shout. Geological technician Fisher had fallen from the bank where he'd been working. From shoulders to feet his jumpsuit was smeared with a sticky, yellowish ore.

  "Hurt yourself?" Kirk asked.

  Fisher winced. "Cut my hand, sir."

  It was a jagged, ugly cut. "Report to Sickbay," Kirk said.

  Obediently Fisher removed his communicator from his belt. In the Enterprise Transporter Room, Scott, receiving his request for beam-up, said, "Right. Locked onto you." He turned to Transporter technician Wilson at the console. "Energize!" he ordered.

  But as Fisher sparkled into shape on the platform, the console flashed a warning red light. "Coadjustor engagement," Scott said hastily. Wilson threw a switch. T
he red light faded.

  Materialized, Fisher stepped off the platform.

  "What happened?" Wilson asked.

  "Took a flop," Fisher told him.

  Wilson eyed the yellowish splatterings on his jump-suit. Some lumps of the stuff had fallen from it to the platform's floor.

  "Took a flop onto what?" Wilson asked.

  "I don't know-some kind of soft ore."

  Scott had reached for a scanner device. He ran it over the jumpsuit. "That ore's magnetic," he said. "Decontaminate your uniform, Fisher."

  "Yes, sir."

  Frowning, Scott examined the console. "It acted like a burnout," he grumbled to Wilson. "I don't like it."

  Kirk's voice broke in on his concentration. "Captain Kirk, ready for beam-up."

  "Just a moment, Captain." Scott tested the console again. "Seems to be OK now," he told Wilson. "But we can do with a double check. Get me a synchronic meter." Returning to his speaker, he said, "All right, Captain. Locked onto you." Then he activated the Transporter.

  There was an unfamiliar whine in its humming. Hur-riedly dialing it out, Scott decided to warn Kirk he was delaying the beam-up. But the process had already begun. The engineer looked anxiously toward the plat-form. In its dazzle Kirk stood on it, dazed-looking, unusually pale. As he stepped from it, his legs almost buckled. Scott ran to him. "What's wrong, Captain? Let me give you a hand."

  "Just a little dizzy, that's all," Kirk said. "I'm sure it's nothing serious." He glanced around him. "You're not leaving the Transporter Room untended to look after me, are you?"

  "No, sir. Wilson's just gone for a tool."

  The door closed behind them. More sparkle ap-peared on the platform. A figure took shape on it. When it had gathered solidity, it could be seen as a perfect double of Kirk. Except for its eyes. They were those of a rabid animal just released from a cage.

  It looked around it, tense, as though expecting attack.

  Wilson opened the door. Immediately sensing that tension, "Captain," he said, "are you all right?"

  His reply was a hoarse growl. The double glanced around it again seeking some means of escape. It licked its dry lips. Then it saw the door Wilson had left open.

  Out in the corridor Kirk was saying, "I can manage now. You'd better get back to the Transporter Room, Scotty."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Thanks for the help."

  "I wish you'd let Dr. McCoy give you a look-over, Captain."

  "All right, Engineer. I'll have him check my en-gines."

  He didn't have far to go. At the next cross passage he collided with McCoy. "I think we need a control signal at this cor-" McCoy broke off to stare at Kirk. "What's happened to you?"

  "I don't know," Kirk said.

  "You look like you ran into a wall."

  "Is that your official diagnosis?"

  "Never mind my diagnosis! Go and lie down. I have a malingerer to be treated. Then I'll come and check you."

  "If you can find me," Kirk said-and moved on down the corridor. McCoy followed his going with puzzled eyes. Then he hastened on back to the waiting Fisher in Sickbay.

  The soiled jumpsuit had been discarded. McCoy cleaned the cut hand. "Like to get off duty, wouldn't you?" he said. "Take a little vacation."

  Fisher grinned. And McCoy, swabbing the wound, lifted his head at the sound of the opening door.

  The double spoke at once. "Brandy" it said.

  The demand, the manner, the whole bearing of repli-ca Kirk was uncharacteristic of the real one. Fisher's presence put a brake on McCoy's amazement. He de-cided to ignore the demand. "Don't go running back to work now," he told Fisher. "Keep the bandage moist with this antiseptic. Take the bottle along with you."

  "Yes, sir." Fisher held up his swathed hand, smiling at the double. "It isn't too bad, Captain."

  The remark was ignored. McCoy turned to the dou-ble standing in the doorway and gestured to it to enter the office. "Sit down, Jim," he said. "I think we'd better..."

  He stopped. The double had gone to the locked liquor cabinet, its nails clawing at it. "I said brandy" it said.

  McCoy stared, dumbfounded. The double was snarl-ing now at its failure to pry open the cabinet's door. Nervous, uneasy, McCoy tried again. "Sit down, Jim."

  A shudder passed through the double. A savage whisper broke from it. "Give me the brandy!"

  "What is the matter with-" McCoy began. The clawing hands were lifting with the clear intention of smashing the cabinet's glass.

  "Jim!" McCoy shouted.

  The double whirled, crouched for a leap, its fists clenching. Instinctively McCoy recoiled from the com-ing blow. Then he recovered himself. "All right, I'll give you the brandy. Sit down!" But he didn't give the brandy. As he unlocked the cabinet door, he was shoul-dered aside-and the double, seizing a bottle of liquor, made for the door.

  "Drink it in your quarters, Jim! I'll see you there in a..."

  The door slammed shut.

  McCoy, striding over to his viewing screen, flicked it on. Spock's face appeared. "Anything peculiar happen down on that planet's surface, Mr. Spock?"

  The cool voice said, "One slight accident, Doctor, which I'm sure won't tax your miraculous healing pow-ers."

  But McCoy was too disturbed to rise to the bait. "Did it involve the Captain?"

  "No."

  "Well, there's something very wrong with him. He just left my office after carrying on like a wild man."

  The wild man, rampaging down the corridor, sud-denly had a mind to private drinking. A sign over a door declared it to be the entrance to the quarters of Yeoman Janice Rand. The double touched it, conceiv-ing unmentionable notions-and slipped through the door. Inside, it uncorked the bottle. Tipping it up, it gulped down the brandy in deep swallows. Then it grunted in pure, voluptuous pleasure. The bite of the brandy down its throat was too seductive to resist the impulse to swallow some more. Eyes half-shut in sensu-al delight, its face was the face of a Kirk released from all repressions, all self-discipline and moral order.

  Kirk himself had not entirely recovered from his mysterious vertigo. Alone in his quarters, he had his shirt off, and was flexing his neck and shoulder muscles to rid his head of the whirling inside it. When the knock came at his door, he said, "Yes?"

  "Spock, sir."

  "Come in," Kirk said, pressing the door's unlocking button.

  "Dr. McCoy asked me to check on you, sir."

  Shouldering back into his shut, Kirk said, "Why you?"

  "Only Dr. McCoy could answer that, Captain."

  "He must have had a reason."

  "One would assume so," Spock said mildly, his keen eyes on Kirk's face.

  "Well, Mr. Spock? I hope you know me next time we meet."

  "Dr. McCoy said you were acting like a wild man."

  "McCoy said that?" Kirk paused. "He must have been joking."

  "I'll get back to the bridge now," Spock said.

  "I'll tell McCoy you were here."

  As the door closed, Kirk, puzzled by the inter-change, reached for his Captain's coat.

  On Deck 12, corridors above him, his double was feeling the effects of the brandy. But at the sound of a door sliding open, it was sober enough to take hiding in the bedroom of Yeoman Rand's quarters. It watched her enter. When she had placed her tricorder on a table, it stepped forward into her full sight.

  It was not Kirk's custom to visit the bedrooms of attractive female members of his crew. Janice was shak-en by his appearance in hers. She decided to smile. "This is an unexpected pleasure, sir," she said gamely.

  The smile faltered at the suggestive leer she received. "Is there something I can-?" Then she tensed. The double had come so close to her she could smell the brandy on its breath. She flushed at such male near-ness, fought back an uprush of embarrassed apprehen-sion and said, "Is there-can I do something for you, Captain?"

  "You bet you can," the double grinned. "But Jim will do here, Janice."

  Neither the words nor the tone fitted the image of Kirk
that existed in the mind of Janice Rand. She had never seen him anything but coolly courteous toward women members of his crew. Since the day she had joined it, she had thought of him as the unobtainable but most desirable man she'd ever met. However, that was her own secret. It just wasn't possible that he was obtainable, not Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. And by a twenty-year-old, obscure yeoman named Janice Rand. He'd been drinking, of course; and when men drank... Nevertheless, of all the women on the ship, this handsomest man in the world had sought her out; and by some miraculous quirk of circumstance seemed to be finding her worthy of his sexual interest. She suddenly felt that she, along with her uniform, had gone transparent.