Thunder boomed, miniature lightning crackled, and a howling rainstorm drenched the chamber, putting out the lowering fire.
There was a smattering of applause from the gallery.
The scene began to flutter and change constantly, like a dance viewed under intermittent strobe light, as Kirk and the Prosecutor exchanged gestures.
One moment they were standing in a street of Salem Town—then they were back on the naked surface of Megas-tu. A raging sandstorm swallowed them up.
"High humidity and dampness!" Kirk intoned reverently as the abrasive sand tore at him. "Deciduous foliage marked by high rainfall . . .!"
Desert turned to jungle. But the Prosecutor was already counter-gesturing, and the jungle melted into deep blue ocean, the tops of trees turning into wave crests.
Kirk choked as he took in a startled mouthful of sea water. He felt himself drowning.
"YOU CANNOT BEST AN ENTIRE WORLD, CAPTAIN KIRK. THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN WIN."
"I have to!" he shouted, then choked again. "Don't you see, Prosecutor, you'll become as bad as the primitive humans you feared. A moment ago you said you'd never found it necessary to harm another being. But now you're going to do so, acting out of terror instead of the higher morals you always insisted you, and not we Earthmen, possessed!"
Floating high above the waves, the Prosecutor paused only a second before gesturing.
The world vanished.
Kirk found himself suddenly dry. The great hall was gone. He was back on the surface of the real Megas-tu. Colored particles and sand swirled harmlessly around him.
In the distance he could see the Enterprise, reassembled and whole. Behind him was the forest and the fairy city. The sand vanished, and he was standing on a green lawn with Spock and the Prosecutor. Lucien was there, too, still encased in the red bubble.
Even as he watched, the transparent prison began to dissolve.
"THE MOST MAGIC LIES ALWAYS IN YOUR HEART, HUMAN," mused the Prosecutor, no longer a threatening figure, "YOU WERE PREPARED TO DIE FOR LUCIEN, A BEING WHO IS ALIEN TO YOU AND WHOSE RACIAL MEMORIES TO YOU ARE NOT THE BEST."
"I was sure you would do something at least as foolish, friend Kirk," the goat-man smiled. "It wouldn't have been human of you not to. I told them their fears of you were groundless. But they are so cautious now—not like us." For a being just threatened with limbo, he seemed remarkably cheerful.
"How could you be so certain the Captain would react the way he did?" asked a curious Spock.
There was a twinkle in Lucien's eye. "I know my humans. Their inconsistencies are the most predictable of all."
"I don't understand," began Kirk, but the Prosecutor smiled as he interrupted.
"THIS LAST WAS A TEST OF YOUR TRUE SELVES, CAPTAIN. HOW RIGHT YOU WERE WHEN YOU REMINDED ME OF OUR OWN WORDS, THAT WE COULD NOT INTENTIONALLY DO HARM TO OTHERS.
"WE HAD TO BE CERTAIN YOUR RECORDS WERE NO RUSE. THEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN DOCTORED BEFORE YOU ENTERED THE VORTEX. WE HAVE BEEN TRICKED TOO MANY TIMES TO TAKE CHANCES."
"I see now," nodded Spock. "You had to have incontrovertible proof that not only man's laws had changed, but that man himself had." He turned to Kirk. "Your compassion for Lucien was that proof, Captain."
"IF YOUR PEOPLE SHOULD CHANCE TO VISIT US AGAIN, CAPTAIN KIRK, WE SHALL DO OUR BEST TO WELCOME THEM. THE LIFTING OF THIS FEAR IS A GREAT THING. YOU HAVE GIVEN BACK TO US SOME OF WHAT YOUR ANCESTORS TOOK AWAY. WE SHALL PROVIDE YOU WITH THE EXTRADIMENSIONAL BOOST YOU WILL REQUIRE TO REENTER YOUR OWN UNIVERSE."
"And I'll give you something to make the changeover a little easier!" roared Lucien. He gestured, and tankards appeared in everyone's hand.
"A favorite archaic Earth custom of mine, Asmodeus. A toast—to a new friendship, and to the lifting of old fears." He tilted his head, raised his own huge container, and let the liquid run down his throat, chin, and beard.
Kirk did his best to imitate him, in spirit if not capacity. Spock sipped delicately at his own, and shook his head in wonder at the attractions of excessive alcoholic consumption . . .
The universe was unchanged. Stars lay like gold flecks at the bottom of a prospector's pan, shining steadily through the lambent background of radiant nebulae.
Compared to this glory, the object that suddenly burst into the central galactic quadrant from out of a peculiar confluence of force lines was unrelievedly dull.
To those who rode in it, however, this miniscule symmetrical blot—the Enterprise—was a more perfect jewel than the greatest star.
As before, the central viewscreen on the bridge could capture only a small section of the glowing panorama.
"Report, Mr. Scott," said Kirk crisply, leaning over to speak into the pickup grid in the command chair arm. The chief engineer's voice responded from another part of the starship.
"All systems operative, Captain. Warp-engines performing perfectly. Everything's operatin' at maximum efficiency again. It wasn't too hard." There was a pause. "I only had to sacrifice a chicken and two goats to the central computer."
"Very funny, Scotty," Kirk said dryly as the chiefs chortle floated back over the intercom. He switched it off in mid-chortle.
"No more magic for us, Jim," a relieved McCoy declared from Kirk's side. He gestured at the screen. "It's all back there, and there it can stay, for all I care. Though I won't be so quick to laugh at any alien witch doctors we may meet up with in the future."
For awhile they simply enjoyed the retreating magnificence of the galactic center, a torrent of raw, untappable energy. It seemed it existed only for their visual pleasure, now.
"I'm not a particularly religious man, Jim," McCoy murmured after several minutes of contemplative consideration of the vast spectacle, "but do you think that Lucien was really the ancient devil-demon some men called Lucifer? Or was it all an act, a guise he liked to assume for his own amusement?"
"You mean," Kirk asked, "did Lucien pattern himself after the myth, or did the myth arise out of Lucien? I don't know, Bones. Does it matter?"
"Oh, I suppose not." McCoy was quiet for a few minutes more, before speaking idly again.
"It's just that—if he was, Jim—this would be the second time he was on the verge of being cast out. But thanks to you, this is the first time he was saved."
Kirk looked sharply back at McCoy. There was no sign of a smile on the doctor's face. He started to say something, caught himself, and returned his attention to the viewscreen instead. He had other things to think about.
They had a long way to go.
Table of Contents
CONTENTS
PART I: ONCE UPON A PLANET
I
II
III
IV
V
PART II: MUDD'S PASSION
VI
VII
VIII
IX
PART III: THE MAGICKS OF MAGAS-TU
X
XI
Alan Dean Foster, Star Trek - Log 3
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