"Telepath," he asked, still holdine the trigger down and centering it on Sulu, "am I not affecting him at all? Is the life-support belt interfering?"
Concentrating hysterically, Telepath looked more than normally miserable. Uhura almost managed to feel sympathy for the poor creature. He had not wished his talent on himself.
"No, Chuft-Captain," Telepath reported, a bit too loudly, a touch too fast. "He hears a faint whine but feels no ill effect. There is a vibration in the material of his metal accoutrements but—"
Telepath winced suddenly as if struck by a solid blow, and reeled backward several steps. When he recovered, he stared wild-eyed and pleadingly at his commander. "Chuft-Captain, he is too alien. He makes me taste yellow root munched between flat teeth. I am made sick, Chuft-Captain. Please!"
"You may stop—for now," the Kzin commander informed him. Grateful beyond words, the telepath turned away and was ill inside his suit. "Be glad you need not read the Vulcan's mind."
Looking closely at the parabolic mirror and the settings on its obverse, Chuft-Captain rumbled musingly to himself and his subordinates, "It may be a communications device of some kind. Or perhaps the vibrations it produces are designed to adversely affect members of a race now extinct. Another setting, perhaps."
With a thick furry finger he shifted the hand grip toggle down to the next setting. This time he didn't jump as the device blurred and curled like a ghost python in his hand. The parabolic mirror metamorphosed into a backward-facing screen arrangement with a small lens facing forward. Several knobs were set around the entire assemblage.
Again Chuft-Captain pointed the front of the device at Sulu and pressed the trigger. Again the helmsman displayed no reaction. But the device did. The screen lit softly to show Sulu standing on the police web.
Chuft-Captain experimented with the knobs on the back of the screen and below it. One touch brought a good, sharp-edged closeup of the stiff-legged human into view. Raising his arm, Chuft-Captain produced a magnified view of the sky above. He lowered the device, stared at it admiringly.
"A good, versatile, portable telescope. They built very well, these Slavers."
"Yet it is of no importance to us," one of the onlooking Kzin crewmen pointed out. "We already have several types of good small telescopes."
Chuft-Captain made a curt gesture of agreement, touched the toggle control once more. Again the device convulsed. When the Kzin commander saw the third configuration, he permitted himself a slight, toothy smile. This one looked much more promising. Set into the handle and trigger grip was a long metallic tube. Several moldings and protrusions blistered the sides of the tube, which ended in a small, thick lens.
Following his previous pattern, Chuft-Captain aimed the end of the tube at Sulu. At the last moment he shifted it slightly to one side before pulling the trigger.
A dense red beam of coherent light emerged from the lens. It contacted the ground just to the right of Sulu's feet and the police web. Ice fragments exploded into the thin air and steam boiled upward where the beam struck. Chuft-Captain released the trigger and the beam disappeared. A modest, still-steaming hole showed in the ice where it had struck.
Sulu had not flinched, despite the proximity of the small explosion. Chuft-Captain fired again, the beam moving closer but still avoiding both the helmsman's boots and the police web. Again Sulu didn't move.
The Kzin commander was moved to admit grudgingly, "I give you credit, human. You are not afraid to die."
"I'm never afraid of the familiar," Sulu replied calmly, nodding at the Slaver device. "That's simply a laser, and not much of one at that. The Federation has had more effective weapons for over a hundred years."
Chuft-Captain permitted himself to look annoyed. Rather angrily he adjusted the toggle to a new setting. Once more the device contorted, as solid in its change as a dream before awakening.
It solidified into a short cylinder. A flared aperture of fair size appeared at its far end. Two flat metal projections extended well downward from the near end of the cylinder. They resembled stirrups so closely that Uhura couldn't repress a start of recognition. If the downward-pointed surfaces had been attached to a small saddle, the device would have closely resembled the ostrich saddles she had used as a child.
Chuft-Captain found the device's latest manifestation far less intriguing—or familiar. He bemoaned the lack of a gunsight or anything resembling one while realizing that nothing so lethal had adorned any of the device's previous forms. Nothing for it but to try this new setting and get on with the next.
He pulled the trigger.
Instantly he was shooting backward across the ice in a seated, undoubtedly uncomfortable position. Traveling at a respectable velocity he had to exert all his strength simply to hold on to the device.
The other three Kzinti scrambled to clear a path for the errant Chuft-Captain. One bit of flame from the gushing Slaver whatever-it-had-become washed across the slower-moving telepath. He screamed in pain. Completely out of control, Chuft-Captain shot across the police web, straight at the three imprisoned officers. His force was more than adequate to carry him through the comparatively mild restraint field the web generated.
Unable to dodge, Uhura was struck on her side. The impact was sufficient to overcome the withholding force field. It knocked her off the web. Clear of the web, she rolled over, scrambled to her feet, and sprinted for the nearby Copernicus.
Meanwhile, one of the two remaining Kzinti noticed the injured telepath. The scorching exhaust of the Slaver device had ruptured the smaller Kzinti's suit. Scooping up the lighter telepath, the Kzin turned and raced frantically for the lighted tunnel leading to the buried ship. Telepath was howling over his suit mike, trailing a fog of freezing atmosphere behind him.
"Telepath's suit has been cut," the remaining Kzin called out to Chuft-Captain.
"Never mind that!" The Kzin commander lay just past the police web. Having finally succeeded in shutting off the runaway device, he was climbing slowly and painfully to his feet. He gestured toward the Federation shuttlecraft. "The female is escaping, fool!"
Puzzled, the remaining Kzin's gaze traveled to the sprinting communications officer. "What of it?"
"Idiot!" Chuft-Captain was trying to find his own phaser. "Human females are intelligent!"
The remaining Kzin fought to assess this piece of incredible information. Though he knew it to be true, it was no less difficult for him to cope with. But he was a Kzin warrior. Time enough to muse later. Act now.
Drawing his phaser, he aimed it carefully. Uhura had almost reached the shuttlecraft when the stun burst caught her neatly in the small of the back. Her body arced spasmodically; she took another couple of steps and slumped to the ground.
Replacing the phaser at his waist, the Kzin trudged off to pick up Uhura's recumbent form. Meanwhile the Kzin who had thoughtfully carried the injured telepath into the ship was returning, moving at a fast jog.
"What report, Flyer?" asked Chuft-Captain, showing more concern for the neurotic mind reader in the latter's absence than he had previously.
The Kzin called Flyer responded worriedly. "His suit lost considerable pressure before I could get him into the ship, Chuft-Captain. But he will live."
"Good. We will need him later." Chuft-Captain proffered the new configuration of the Slaver device, handling it gingerly. Flyer examined the complex arrangement of struts and tubes.
"Doubtless a personal rocket motor, some form of one-being transportation device. One could place one's feet on the pedal shapes, there, and balance carefully. With practice, one could obtain great individual mobility."
"In any case, it is certainly not a weapon," concluded Chuft-Captain.
The two argued over the precise function of the new setting as the other Kzin returned with Uhura. They broke off their discussion long enough to guard Spock and Sulu while the other warrior placed the still-unconscious communications officer on the police web. He retreated quickly and the web field was restored
. Uhura slumped slightly before the field caught her, held her upright.
"Uhura!" Sulu called as best he could with his head pinned. He turned slowly to look at her. "Lieutenant Uhura!" Her eyelids fluttered, finally opened. She stared across at him, recognition that she had failed dawning rapidly.
"Nice try," Sulu attempted to reassure her.
It did not. "I'm slowing down." She sounded bitter. "I used to run the hundred in record time. How long have I been out? Did I miss anything?"
"Not much," Sulu told her. Unexpectedly, he chuckled. "A lot of good they'll get out of that propulsion setting. I wonder how much fur Chuft-Captain lost off his backside, suit armor or no suit armor!"
"We have been fortunate," Spock said more somberly, "that none of the settings thus far employed have revealed anything superior to known Federation technology."
"Thus far. Look." Uhura tried to point, but found that she couldn't, of course. Her arm was once more held tightly motionless by the police web. Sulu and Spock turned to watch the Kzinti again. It appeared that Chuft-Captain had moved the toggle control, because the Slaver device was writhing in his hands for a fifth time.
The new shape was a total surprise. Not only didn't it resemble a weapon, or something familiar like the parabolic mirror or the laser tube, it didn't resemble anything at all. Spock had to blink to assure himself the device had indeed finished changing, because it looked as if it had frozen in the middle of its new transformation, neither complete nor incomplete but some non-Euclidian nebulosity in between.
The shape should not have been. As he watched, it seemed to alter regularly without moving, to twist and curl in and about itself in a bizarre, topologically impossible fashion. And yet, it possessed the appearance of a solid shape.
"No gun sight," Chuft-Captain murmured softly, revealing a fixation on a single thought. "No evident way to aim it. Still, it must do something." Lifting the device, he pulled the trigger.
Both subordinate Kzinti were staring fixedly at the clump of ice-covered rock Chuft-Captain was aiming at. So none of the three warriors noticed that as soon as their commander pulled the trigger, the yellow glow from the tunnel behind them winked out like a drowned candle.
Uhura nearly fell, then caught herself and stayed motionless. "Mr. Spock, I can move."
"So can I," an excited Sulu whispered, experimentally edging one foot back and forth. "The police web is off."
Spock flexed the fingers of his left hand just enough to make certain he too was no longer trapped. "The fifth setting seems to be some sort of energy absorber. Fascinating. We've had no indication the Slavers possessed anything along such lines."
"Mr. Spock, shouldn't we—?"
Spock cut the helmsman off. "Yes, but in concert. When I give the word, run for the shuttle. Remember to present as irregular a target as possible. You traveled in a straight line, Lieutenant Uhura, and while you cannot outrun a phaser burst there is a chance to avoid one."
"Don't worry," Uhura assured him grimly. She had no intention of being stopped so easily again.
"Ready?" warned Spock. "Go!"
Adrenaline substituted for starting blocks as Sulu and Uhura fairly exploded toward the shuttle, twisting, dodging, zigzagging across an imaginary obstacle course. Tired from her previous sprint and still suffering lingering aftereffects of the recent phaser burst she had taken, Uhura fell behind.
Spock wasn't even close. He had chosen a different path toward the shuttle, one involving a slight but critical detour. Before the startled Kzinti could react, the first officer was racing toward them.
By the time their attention shifted from the nonexistent destructive effects of the Slaver device's fifth setting, Spock was on top of Chuft-Captain. The Kzin commander turned a second too late to defend himself. Spock wasn't fooling with anything as subtle as a Vulcan nerve-pinch. Both legs came up as Spock leaped. His full weight was behind them, multiplied by his velocity, as he slammed both feet into the Kzin commander, high up on the feline's rib cage.
Chuft-Captain doubled over as he began falling backward, let out a loud moan, and dropped the device. Landing on one hand and both feet, Spock grabbed the Slaver artifact before it could bounce twice, and was off and racing for the shuttle.
Sulu looked behind him. Three Kzinti were now firing their phasers, one aiming at Spock, the other two at the more distant humans. A rise of broken rock and ice loomed nearby, just to the helmsman's left. Seeing that he wouldn't be able to make the shuttle, he swerved sideways and took shelter behind the hillock.
Uhura tried to follow him but she was too far behind. A burst from one of the phasers caught her again. She stumbled toward the ground, her last conscious thoughts filled with anger more than disappointment.
Clutching the Slaver device tightly in one hand, Spock continued his erratic, weaving course across the icy surface. Phaser beams repeatedly struck the ground where he had been heading only seconds before. But the first officer was still running hard and fast, and the Kzinti were unable to guess which way he would head next.
Deciding that the Vulcan was too far out of range, Flyer moved to aid Chuft-Captain. The commander was still lying on the ice, doubled-up and clutching at his side.
"Chuft-Captain, what happened?"
"I would rather not discuss it," came the sharp but pain-ridden reply. "Help me into the ship."
Flyer helped his commander to his feet. Chuft-Captain winced, nearly fell as he straightened. Flyer said nothing. It was unthinkable to show sympathy.
They started toward the tunnel leading to their ship. As they walked, it became clear to Flyer that Chuft-Captain had been badly hurt, for he couldn't have walked without help. As the airlock cycled around their suits and Chuft-Captain's painful wheezing sounded in his suit helmet, Flyer was still trying to visualize the unthinkable.
IX
It had been quiet on the bridge for long moments. The emergency lighting remained on, bathing instruments and the four wait-officers in its eerie, subdued glow. Communications with the rest of the ship remained dead, as did computer control. The Enterprise was still on course toward Starbase 25, but she was flying blind.
Kirk idly regarded the stun setting on his phaser, resting ominously at his waist. He hefted the tranquilizer pistol firmly. Their phasers would remain set on stun. Lieutenant M'ress and the other captured Caitians were as much a part of his crew, as much personal friends, as anyone else he worked with.
But . . . the ship had to come first. It seemed impossible that the four of them, alerted and expectant, would be unable to overcome a single slim Caitian female. However, everything else that had happened so far had seemed impossible also. With their communications and computer controls out, he couldn't even switch control of the ship to the secondary bridge.
The phaser controls seemed to grow larger in his eyes, the extreme end of the setting beckoning to him hypnotically. But before he would change that, he'd try any alternative. "Lieutenant Talliflores, Lieutenant Arex, if you two would like to try Talliflores's plan, keeping your phasers set on stun and without utilizing the tranquilizer pistol, you have my permission."
"I'd rather have the tranquilizers, sir," responded a doubtful communications officer.
Kirk shook his head emphatically. "Absolutely not."
"We'll try anyway, sir."
"Good luck." Kirk turned to the science station. "Mr. Vedama, if this fails, and Mr. Talliflores and Mr. Arex fail to return . . . set your phaser to kill." He had trouble finishing the sentence.
"Yes, sir," his science officer said solemnly.
Talliflores palmed his phaser, then left the useless communications console to stand next to a ready Arex. "Since we have no idea where she is, sir, we'll try the hatch closest to the accessway leading to the deck below us."
Moving as quietly as possible, Talliflores and the Edoan navigator edged over the service hatch. Kirk kept the tranquilizer gun trained on the hatch as Arex set about undoing the catches. The resultant opening would be large enou
gh for a good-sized human to fit through. The tripedal Arex would find it a tighter squeeze, but Kirk estimated his navigator should also be able to squeeze through into the serviceway beyond.
"Lieutenant Talliflores," he called abruptly, as the two officers were preparing to release the last catch.
"Sir?" Talliflores was lying flat on the deck, working at the hatch cover.
"You'll move to cut through the sealed doorway to the lower decks, if it is sealed. If not, you'll go for help. Lieutenant Arex will cover you."
"But sir, I'd hoped to . . ." Talliflores began.
Kirk cut him off firmly. "Sorry, Lieutenant. Mr. Arex has already tangled with one of the Caitians and come off considerably better than anyone else." He suppressed a smile. "Mr. Arex has the advantage of being half again as dextrous as a human."
"Very well, sir," Talliflores reluctantly replied.
The last catch was released. Carefully the two officers removed the hatch plate. When neither phaser bolt nor squalling Caitian emerged from the opening, Talliflores leaned forward and peered into the dim crawlway beyond. He glanced once back at Kirk, who nodded—there could be no talk on the bridge now, not with the hatch opened. Talliflores crawled through, vanished into the darkness. After a last glance back at Kirk, Arex followed.
It was as silent as a Klingon consulate on Federation Day. Suddenly someone, probably Talliflores, shouted. Muffled yelling and sounds of a struggle followed.
Vedama took a step toward the hatchway. Kirk ordered him back to the science console.
If Arex and Talliflores couldn't overpower or outmaneuver M'ress in the cramped serviceway, sending in the diminutive Vedama would only result in the loss of another officer. Nor could he enter the fray himself and risk losing the tranquilizer pistol, their only proven means of stopping a berserk Caitian.
The hidden battle continued more quietly. Only an occasional curse, grunt, or peculiar low-pitched feminine yowl punctuated the quiet. Once, Kirk thought he heard Talliflores cry out, but he couldn't be sure it wasn't M'ress.