Star Trek - Blish, James - 12 Read online

  But intuition had already warned him that the Star-ship would fail to respond. Nor would the communica-tors of the others function.

  "Dead, sir," Chekov said unnecessarily.

  He was rebelting his device when Uhura, pointing to the cliff base, whispered an urgent, "Captain!"

  Following the line of her outstretched forefinger, Kirk said, "No, this is not Gamma II. That's an unin-habited planetoid. This one clearly is. We appear to have company, friends."

  Close under the shadow of the escarpment, four creatures were standing, observant and intrigued by the strangers' appearance, but their postures hostile, alert. Outstanding in physique was a huge blond male, a Viking who might have been resurrected from some Norse saga's Valhalla. Beside him, squat but thickly muscled as an ape, was Neanderthal Man himself, his low brow shock-haired almost to the nose. And next to him was a female whom some unknown deity had en-dowed with a bush of yellowish, black-spotted hair, leopardlike. Two fangs protruding from her upper teeth hung over her lower lip. The fangs were pointed.

  But the fourth being was the true astonishment-a gorgeous Amazon of a bronze-haired girl, the sapphire of her dark-lashed eyes flashing with the general hos-tility. But like the rest of her companions, she wore a metallic collar around her lovely neck, inset with some glittering gem under the ear.

  Both women carried daggers in the clumsy belts that confined their smockish coarse garments at the waist. Moreover, they had additional weapons, the males equipped with staves ending in blades at one end and grapples at the other.

  Wordlessly, the alien group moved forward until they had spaced themselves evenly around the triangle enclosing Kirk, Chekov and Uhura.

  The giant Viking finally spoke.

  "I am Lars," he said. "He is Kloog. She of the beast's hair is Tamoon. The other she is Shahna."

  Fierce suspicion deepened the deep voice. Where usually Kirk would have met such an introduction with one of his own, he decided that this was no time for an exchange of courtesies. So, instead, he said quietly, "Phasers at stun." And added, "Just in case."

  The case arose.

  Lars, jaw set, stepped forward and, extending a formidable arm, attempted to wrench Chekov's phaser from him. Kirk promptly fired his. Nothing... noth-ing. And when he ordered phaser action from Chekov and Uhura, the nothing was repeated. Swiftly, the En-terprise Captain made an adjustment on his weapon and once more tried to activate it. It was as dead as the communicators. Then hurling the useless phaser at the still oncoming blond giant, he ducked sideways to get to the rear of his adversary. Behind him, he was aware that the other three aliens had already subdued Chekov and Uhura, and, with an heroic effort, controlled his ingrained sense of responsibility for them to leap on Lars's heavy-muscled back. He managed a neck chop. It stunned Lars. The giant didn't drop, but he stumbled, reeling, dazed, too shocked for instant reaction.

  Seizing advantage of the temporary respite, Kirk added several other telling blows to the vulnerable join of neck to backbone. The last one doubled up the redoubtable Siegfried. And straightening in satisfaction, Kirk turned to his less fortunate shipmates.

  It was the beautiful Shahna who had downed Uhura with Tamoon's assistance. But now she left the leopard-haired creature to guard Uhura in order to con-centrate her own belligerent and very dangerous attention on Kirk.

  His moment of self-satisfaction had been expensive. Too slowly he realized that Shahna was hurtling toward him, and. jumping back, was barely able to dodge the vicious slash of her spear. But the cliff wall blocked all further retreat. Shahna snatched the dagger from the belt that held her shoulder harness in place and, flying at him, pushed its point painfully against the skin of his throat. He looked away from the sapphire eyes so full of triumphant hate, saying to himself, "Okay. Maybe this is it."

  To their rear, Tamoon and Kloog had jerked his two companions erect, and Lars rose slowly to his feet, still groggy from the neck chops. As to Kirk, he was now half-crouched against the cliff's rock face, immobilized lest the infuriated Shahna drive the dagger through to his backbone. He gasped, choking, and to his relieved but immense surprise, the pressure eased slightly. In-stantly, he came out of his crouch, and at the same moment, a new figure abruptly appeared in the center triangle.

  "Hold!" it cried.

  At once Shahna lowered her dagger. Ignoring her, the stranger spoke directly to Kirk. "Excellent, Captain Kirk!"

  There'd been no excellence about it-just an instinctive use of Space Academy training. But there was no time for reminiscence on the stiff courses through which the Academy put its cadets, for the masterful newcomer was leaving the triangle for a closer approach to the Enterprise people. Was it his dress which conveyed the impression of undisputed authority? Perhaps. For he wore no smock but a togalike garment, its shoulder bearing a gold-embroidered emblem; nor did he carry any weapons. Yet the unarmed stranger also wore a gemmed, metallic collar under his expressionless features, a face Kirk judged to be in its middle thirties.

  He spoke again.

  "Although we expected strength and competitive spirit, Captain Kirk, we are greatly pleased."

  Kirk was silent, too angry to trust himself to speak. Kloog was dragging a squirming Chekov toward them, followed by Lars who clutched a struggling, kicking Uhura over his big shoulder. Thrust into positions near Kirk, their two captors divested them of phasers, tri-corders and communicators.

  Kirk spoke to his people. "Either of you hurt?"

  The shaken Uhura shook her head. "I-I don't think so, sir." But the wildly furious Chekov yelled, "No, nobody's hurt-yet, Captain!"

  "Admirable, Chekov," observed the black-robed man. "Admirable! You also, Uhura. I can see you will all prove invaluable here."

  Once more Chekov yelled. "Who is he, sir?"

  "I am Galt," he was told. "I am the Master Thrall of the planet Triskelion. I have been sent to welcome you."

  A highly undesirable welcome. Even as Galt was speaking, Kirk felt unseen hands at his neck as they fitted one of the jeweled collars around it. He pushed at them, but they were intangible; nor would any ex-ertion budge the lock. He accepted the inevitable, trying to relax until he saw that the same invisible fingers had attached the collar to a chain they affixed to the rock wall. To his right, and visibly, Shahna, Lars and Tamoon were busy shackling his crewmates to chained collars.

  "Now," Galt said, "you are prepared for your train-ing."

  For the first time Kirk addressed him. "How do you know our names?"

  "The Providers were expecting you, Captain. They arranged your... transfer here."

  So it had not been a Transporter malfunction that had sent them tumbling onto the wrong planet. Their arrival was the consequence of interference, an inter-ference as powerful as it was inexplicable.

  He waited a moment before he said, "These Pro-viders of yours. Are they-?"

  Gait's interruption was sharp. "Correction, Captain! The Providers are not ours. We are theirs."

  A slave state.

  "And what do the Providers want with us?"

  "You are to be trained, of course. What other use is there for Thralls?"

  "Thralls? I think there's been a mistake. We're offi-cers of a United Space Ship bound on Federation busi-ness."

  "There's been no mistake. Your old titles mean nothing here. You are Thralls now. And to be taken to the training enclosure. Come, places have already been prepared for you."

  "We will do nothing until we get a satisfactory ex-planation of this outrage. Who are you? What is this place? And what do you think you're going to do with us?"

  "I have told you. This place is the planet Triskelion. You will be trained and spend the rest of your lives here. Don't trouble yourself with thoughts of escape. It is impossible. No Thrall leaves Triskelion. Lars, un-chain them from the rock."

  As the heavy links were removed, Galt added, "Now you are able to accompany me to your quarters." He hesitated. Then, persuasively, he said, "Captain, no harm is intended you."

/>   Kirk looked at the four subservient Thralls as they marshaled Chekov and Uhura before them. Then, shrugging, he followed their Master's lead.

  McCoy, on the Enterprise bridge, had joined Spock at his scanner, noting that an Ensign Jana Haines had been assigned to the absent Chekov's console, another junior officer at Uhura's position. Scott, emerging from the elevator, stalked over to the two at the scanner.

  "Mr. Spock, I've checked the Transporter from one end to the other. Every circuit is perfect. Whatever that power surge was, it didn't come from the Trans-porter or any other system on this ship!"

  "I'm beginning to believe that, Mr. Scott. I have conducted two sweeps of the planet's surface. There is no sign of life."

  McCoy reddened. "Well, what the devil's happened then? Does that mean that their atoms are still floating around out there?"

  "No, Doctor. Even that would show up on the sen-sors."

  "Then where are they?" Scott shouted.

  Mild as ever, Spock said, "The only answers are negative, Mr. Scott. No magnetic storms, no ionic in-terference and, as you say, no breakdown in your equipment."

  It was McCoy's turn to shout. "A negative attitude isn't much good to us, Spock! We just can't leave them out there-" He broke off to add a desperate "-wher-ever they are."

  "We shall continue sensor scans, Doctor. At the mo-ment, that is all we can do except hope for a rational explanation."

  "Hope!" McCoy jeered. "I thought that was a strictly human failing. Vulcans don't indulge it!"

  "Prolonged exposure to the failing results in a cer-tain amount of contamination, Doctor." And turning away, Spock resumed operation of his scanner.

  A corridor giving on to a row of box stalls was the destination of the Enterprise captives. Box stalls, their doors centrally cut, the upper half barred, the lower one locked. Herded down the corridor, they were halted before three stalls, staring in unbelief at the nameplates fastened to the doors. They read: Kirk, Chekov, Uhura.

  Kirk had been up against such assured, though alien, intelligence on his mission "to go where no man had gone before." For a long moment, he was astounded by this Triskelion variety. Then, once again, he shrugged. Now there could be no answer to the arro-gant certainty of the beings Galt called "The Providers." But tomorrow was another day. And Spock on the Enterprise would be overworking his own not inconsiderable intelligence to apply his equally efficient equipment to discovery of the answer.

  Beside him, Galt said, "These are your quarters. Open, Shahna."

  Obediently, she removed a small disk from her har-ness, placing it on the three locks of the cells. While she was working on the third, Kirk shot Chekov a quick, significant look to which his navigator nodded.

  The three doors open, Galt said, "Enter."

  Kirk and Chekov took two apparently compliant steps only to whirl, whirl and lunge at their nearest jailer. Kirk struck Kloog in the midriff with all the power of his powerful shoulders, knocking Neander-thal Man to his knees. Then, in his command voice, he shouted, "Lieutenant Uhura!"

  She gathered herself, and, shoving Tamoon who was flanking her, sent the fanged one spinning against Lars. Then running to Kirk, he, she and Chekov raced down the corridor to the still open entrance.

  Lacking eyes in the back of their heads, they couldn't see Galt close his, his face deeply concentrated. But they could feel the results. Suddenly, the jewels in their slave collars went into a sickening, greenish glow. The race ended as the collars tightened, their faces contorted in agony as the anguished choking continued, driving them to their knees, hands futilely clutching at the strangling collars. They sank down, unaware that Galt was watching them with clinical de-tachment. Unaware of anything but pain, they failed to see that Galt had once more shut his cold eyes in con-centration.

  As Kirk collapsed on his back, the veins of his neck protruding, the jewel on his collar winked out. But it had done its work. Eons seemed to pass before his tortured throat could swallow and breath returned to his lungs. Then yet more eons crept by before he could get to his knees and, using his weakened arms, thrust himself up to his feet. Chekov and Uhura, watching him, used his method to recover theirs.

  "That was foolish, Captain," said Galt. "I warned you that escape is impossible. The collars of obedience have proved that to you."

  He nodded toward Kirk's cell. Kirk, hesitating, rec-ognized the futility of defiance and entered it. As his friends followed his example, the cell doors were slammed shut.

  It was bad news from Spock. Straightening from his scanner, he said, "They are not within the confines of this solar system, Doctor."

  "It's been nearly an hour. Can people live that long as disassembled atoms in a Transporter beam?"

  "I've never heard of a study being done. But it would be a fascinating research."

  "Fascinating! Those are our friends out there! If they're still alive, that is."

  "Precisely."

  "The odds aren't good, Spock."

  "No. I should say they are-"

  "Don't quote odds. And don't give me anymore of your dispassionate logic. Just find them. Keep looking."'

  "I would welcome a suggestion-even an emotional one-as to where to look."

  "The first time you've ever asked me for anything, and it has to be an occasion like this!"

  Chekov, supporting himself against the bars of his cell, spoke to Kirk in the next one. "Captain, the Enterprise- They'll be trying to find us, won't they?"

  Uhura, her voice hopeless, answered him. "They'll be trying. But where do they look? We're here and we don't know where it is."

  "This system's star is a trinary," Kirk said. "And that limits it a bit. However, we're a long way from the Enterprise-if we're even in the same dimension."

  Before the others could reply, Lars came down the corridor to stop before Uhura's door. "I am your Drill Thrall," he announced. "You may call me Lars."

  As he spoke, Kirk saw him insert a rod into the catching hole in her cage.

  "What do you want with her?" he said.

  "That is not your concern. Your Drill Thrall will attend you presently." Then through the opened door, he pushed a covered receptacle at her. "Here is nourishment. Consume it quickly. The time is limited."

  Uhura, at the look in his eyes, drew back. "What- what do you want?"

  He was eyeing her brunette beauty with increasing appreciation. "I have been selected for you."

  Then walking into her sparsely furnished cubicle, he closed its door. But though the uneasy Uhura backed away from him, he maintained his confident, slow ap-proach to her, a suggestive grin exposing his strong, white teeth. When he reached out a huge hand to caress her neck, she kicked him, but he seized the leg and, pushing her down to the cell floor, muttered, "Stop it. I told you you are mine."

  She bit his lip.

  At the sounds from her stall, Kirk and Chekov peered anxiously through their bars, Kirk calling,"Uhura! Uhura, can you hear me?" But the noise of struggle went on. "Lieutenant Uhura! Answer me!"

  The only answer was the sound of a blow. Alarmed, frustrated, Kirk shouted again, his face pressed against his bars. Then his own cell door opened to Shahna out-side it, unarmed now and carrying another covered container of food.

  Kirk grabbed it, threw it to the floor, glaring at the girl.

  "What's happening to Lieutenant Uhura?" he yelled.

  She made no reply, and in the silence came a final resounding crash from Uhura's stall. Desperate, Kirk called again. "Uhura! Are you all right?"

  Lars provided the reassurance. Backing out of the stall and wiping blood from his bitten lip, he staggered as he protested plaintively, "It is not allowed to refuse selection. It is not allowed."

  He moved away down the corridor, confused by such unexpected resistance; and Uhura, breathless, disheveled, spoke from her cell door.

  "Yes, sir," she said. "I'm fine. He's big-but he's stupid."

  Chekov, embarrassed by his concern for her, whis-pered, "Lieutenant, what happened?"
/>   Uhura's hearing was as keen as her physical fitness. Shooting him an irritated look, she said, "Nothing! You're stupid too!"

  Half-smiling, Kirk turned to see Shahna stooping, her russet hair a tumble of curls on her lovely head, busily restoring the scattered dishes of his food container to their places in it. Then setting it on a cubed stand, she said, "Come. It is the Nourishment Inter-val."

  On the Enterprise bridge, Ensign Haines had left Chekov's position for Spock's computer console. She studied it intently before straightening to address Spock in the command chair.

  "Sir, I get a fluctuating energy reading from this hydrogen cloud."