Star Trek - Log 10

  "That's just to let you know that I'm still watching!" a loud voice warned them. "Lucky for you I'm not asleep, or the whole place would go up!"

  Leaning back against the corridor wall, Sulu eyed the smoking trench in the floor respectfully.

  "I do not think we can reason further with him," Spock announced.

  "I knew that in the first place." Uhura sniffed at the odor of burnt duraplastic.

  "Nevertheless, it had to be tried. One is always hopeful—"

  Charlie cut him off. "I remember now. I wanted to be sure. The crate holds bulk food rations, Commander. Should be mostly small containers of raw proteins, natural sealed meats and stuff."

  "Nothing that would make much noise if it fell within the crate?" Spock asked.

  "No . . . I wouldn't think so."

  Masid's gaze narrowed. "What are you planning, Commander?"

  Spock gestured just behind them, at the couple manning the makeshift weapon. "You have other displacers besides that one?"

  "Sure," she said quickly. "They're all out at the various sites we're working but—"

  "How long to bring two of your best ones in and set them up near here?"

  She still didn't quite believe what Spock was indirectly proposing. "Within an hour, I guess. But I thought we already ruled out any attempt at cutting through—"

  "Not to cut," Spock corrected her, "to dig. We will position the displacers precisely and tunnel beneath the dome. The tunnel will come up under the box very slowly and quietly. We'll make a little natural background noise, but the ground will muffle the sound of the displacer, which I understand is a relatively silent instrument when operated at low power."

  "That's so," Masid admitted.

  "Whoever goes through the tunnel can cut through the bottom of the container manually. A phaser set on low power should slice through the plastic container material quickly and with little noise. Then he can pass the contents of the container back through the tunnel. Simultaneously we will engage Mr. Beguin in conversation."

  Masid gave him a very querulous look.

  "I had not expected enthusiasm," Spock confessed. "It is far from an ideal plan. I am not pleased with it myself. But in the absence of any alternative . . ."

  No one said anything for a long moment. Then the director nodded to Spock. "All right, Commander. This sort of work is more your job than mine. I don't like it, but we'll try anything."

  The displacers were brought in. After careful calculating, they were set in place and turned on. Their efficient operators had muffled the already-quiet devices with insulating material and they dug in near silence. Nor was there any noticeable vibration.

  Nonetheless, to be absolutely certain Beguin didn't grow suspicious—and to try to wear him down a little mentally—Masid and the three officers from the Enterprise took turns arguing, threatening and appealing to the barricaded thief. Helpfully, he argued back, seeming to enjoy their futile attempts to cajole him out of his hideaway. Occasionally he would fire a blast from his displacer in their direction, apparently for no other reason than because it kept him amused.

  Spock had no illusions about what would happen when the drugs started to lose their effectiveness and Beguin found himself growing drowsy. His maniacal humor would fade concurrent with his alertness.

  At the moment, the first officer was watching the dirt and rock emerge in buckets from the rapidly lengthening tunnel. It would take longer this way, but a conveyer would be dangerously noisy.

  Uhura studied a small diagram, drew some lines on it, and compared them with calculations scribbled in the diagram's margin. "They should be in position any minute now, Mr. Spock."

  "Yes. I'll want both you and Mr. Sulu to cover the area as best you can with your phasers. Don't fire unless you're certain he's clear of the stasis box and the compacter. Don't worry about hitting me. I'll try to get him away from the compacter trigger, and then—"

  "Excuse me, sir." Sulu took the liberty of interrupting his superior. "I think I ought to be the one to go."

  "This was my idea, Lieutenant, and I'll be the one to take the necessary risks, since I'll be the one responsible for this attempt's success or failure."

  "Exactly, sir," pressed Sulu urgently, "and that's the very reason I should be the one to go."

  "Explain yourself, Lieutenant."

  "Mr. Spock, you can hold this man's attention better than any of us. That's the really critical part of the operation: not charging him from behind but distracting him from the front. If we can do that effectively, then anyone can jump him."

  "He's right, Mr. Spock," Uhura agreed.

  The first officer considered the objection only briefly. "I do not like the proposal but I cannot counter your arguments. Very well, Lieutenant Sulu. You will be the one to attack from inside the crate. Take special care with your phaser setting when you get ready to cut through the container bottom. It is imperative Mr. Beguin not hear you. As time passes without our meeting his demands, he grows progressively more unstable."

  "Don't worry, sir," Sulu assured him. "I've seen what his displacer can do. I don't want it pointed in my face when I come out of there . . ."

  IV

  The displacers finished their work quickly. After a final conference with his companions and a wish of "Good luck" from Uhura, Sulu found himself crawling on hands and knees through the smooth passageway. Half-fused earth slid by under his palms.

  Small lights had been placed at regular intervals in the tunnel by the excavators, so he had no trouble seeing his path. Nor did he have to be told when he was nearing his destination, since the tunnel floor and ceiling turned sharply upward. The excavators had used their displacers to cut long notches in the floor there. Otherwise the intermittently slick surface would have offered poor purchase for ascending.

  Aware that he was under the storage dome now and that the highly excitable Beguin was somewhere above and just to his right, Sulu continued with greater caution. He passed the last emplaced light, which threw just enough illumination for him to make out a dark mass ahead: the bottom of the crate.

  Edging close to it, he removed his pre-set phaser and trained it on the dark, thick material. Silently, the low-power beam cut through the dull-surfaced substance. Sulu had to move slightly, hugging the wall of the tunnel, to avoid drops of liquid, hot plastic dripping out of the steadily widening hole.

  When he had enlarged the gap enough for a man to fit through, he turned off the phaser and replaced it at his waist. All was silent above, save for distant voices. Spock and the others were doing their part, arguing with Beguin and keeping his attention focused elsewhere.

  Carefully, Sulu edged upward, began the dangerous task of removing the smaller packages from within the crate. Working fast and efficiently, he soon emptied the crate of a substantial portion of its contents, sliding them down into the tunnel. Then, a short pull—and he was on his knees inside.

  For the last time he rehearsed his next moves in his mind. First, he rechecked his position. Beguin ought to be off to his right, through that wall of his crate container, there. Sulu shifted more containers, giving himself a clear path to the crate wall in the opposite direction from Beguin's position. Then he activated his phaser again.

  Gently Sulu applied the soft, short beam to one of the crate walls, near the top. Once more the preformed material softened, ran down into the crate. Fortunately, the plastic melted without an odor, as Spock and Masid had assured him it would. He reminded himself that there was no reason for Beguin to go for a stroll and every reason for him not to, but he still worried that the thief might somehow notice what was going on behind him.

  As the hole appeared and widened and lengthened, the distant voices became clearly audible. Spock was arguing with Beguin, using all the semantic forces at his command, trying to convince him to surrender the box. Chances of that were slim, but the critical thing was to keep the thief occupied long enough for Sulu to slip clear and make a good run at the compacter and its half-hysterical
guardian.

  With a top line cut through, Sulu started curving the phaser beam down along one side. That done, he switched to the opposite side, still straining for the sound of footsteps outside the crate. As the opening enlarged, he found he could follow the details of the conversation taking place behind him. Spock's steady, calm words alternated with the irregular, high-pitched retorts of Beguin.

  Then the phaser began cutting across, parallel to the bottom of the container. Sulu slid his fingers slowly into the nearest vertical crack, gripped firmly. It wouldn't do to have the thick slab of plastic tumble outward to the dome floor. A final snick and the opening was complete. Steadying the cut section with his right hand, the helmsman switched off his phaser and set it down. Then both hands gripped the cutout and pushed. It slid neatly outward and he laid it quietly on the dome.

  If his position had been properly gauged, Beguin should be on the exact opposite side of the crate from him. A cautious glance showed only stacks of cylinders and containers ahead.

  After a minute had passed without a displacer beam abruptly roasting his container, Sulu crawled out and readjusted his phaser. A first glance around the tall black square revealed additional piles of material, containers of all sizes and shapes scattered about. There was a hint of motion and he drew back, still watching.

  A head and gesturing arm appeared. "Why don't you quit trying to talk me out of here?" Beguin shouted warningly. "I'm not giving up the box."

  "You are not leaving Gruyakin with the box in your possession," Spock's distant voice countered immediately.

  Beguin was beginning to sound tired. "You already know what happens then. If I don't get what I want in"—there was a brief pause—"in twenty-one hours, I open the box with the compacter and we all die."

  "Not necessarily," Spock objected. "We do not know for certain that this box contains a disrupter bomb or other destructive device. In that case, you will be the only one to die."

  "Maybe you're right," Beguin conceded readily. "I've heard that some of the stasis boxes that were found were undefended. But it doesn't matter, because you can't take that chance, can you?" Beguin concluded with an unholy chuckle.

  Everything indicated that the thiefs attention was concentrated solely on the one entrance to the storage dome and that he suspected nothing. Sulu began his approach, working his way patiently across the floor using scattered crates and containers for cover. If anything he was being over-cautious. He would have been difficult to spot even if Beguin had been looking for him.

  Very soon he was crouched directly behind the small wall of piled crates and cylinders Beguin had shifted for his own protection. Starting immediately he would have to be extra careful. He wouldn't have any cover inside the circle of containers.

  He considered his options once again. At such close quarters, it would be difficult to miss Beguin with a phaser burst. But there was still the chance the thiefs limp body could fall across the compacter trigger, so phaser fire remained a last resort. Somehow he had to find a better way to get the man away from the compacter controls.

  At first he had been glad of the jumble of cylinders and crates. They had made his approach to this point fairly easy. But they no longer served a useful function. He hoped to find a gap in the container barricade that he could rush through, but as he inspected the piled boxes he could find no such break in the wall. Certainly he couldn't start pulling crates away. Beguin wouldn't be so distracted by Spock that he would fail to notice someone pulling his ramparts down behind him.

  There had to be an opening somewhere in the barricade. Moving on hands and knees and keeping as close to the floor as possible, Sulu started off to his left. He had circled almost the entire barricade and was dangerously close to Beguin himself before deciding that this half of the wall was impenetrable. The ongoing dialogue between Spock and the thief formed a surreal accompaniment to his explorations.

  Returning, Sulu repeated his search to the right of his original position, with similar results.

  One place, where the wall was rather low, was the best he could find. As long as Beguin remained distracted, there was a chance Sulu could scale the wall there and reach the compacter before the thief could trigger it. Once he cleared Beguin from the controls, the commotion would bring Spock, Uhura, and the others running.

  Returning to his chosen spot, Sulu leaned against the crates and started edging to a standing position, positioning his right leg for the jump he would have to make. The conversation had faded, but he would wait until the arguments resumed before making the leap.

  Sulu's head meanwhile slowly came up and for the first time he glanced into the center of the circle of containers—straight into the startled eyes of the thief! Beguin was gobbling provisions from an opened storage crate. Both men were paralyzed for the briefest of seconds.

  Then Beguin whirled, made a dive at the compacter. Desperately Sulu made a jump for him, but even the adrenaline suddenly surging through his body didn't provide him with enough lift to clear the barrier completely. His right foot caught on an upthrust cylinder and sent him sprawling to the floor in a clatter of dislodged crates.

  "Wait," Sulu shouted frantically. "Don't?"

  Beguin, his eyes wild, and perhaps temporarily not sane, was at the compacter. He threw himself onto the trigger. Voices yelled in the distance as Spock and the others, having heard Sulu's shout, began charging the barricade.

  They could not outpace the compacter. With a whirr the sides of the device engaged, slammed into the stasis box. A peculiar bone-tingling screech resulted, like a thin metal point dragging across a piece of slate. The sound increased until Sulu's teeth hurt. One edge of the stasis box appeared to crumple slightly inward. Fascinated, Sulu could only stare at what might prove to be the cause of his imminent annihilation.

  He had no place to run to, of course. Instinctively he threw an arm across his face to protect his eyes. But if a disruptor bomb were presently being engaged within the box, his arm would make no difference.

  Out of the corner of an eye Sulu saw something rise from the surfaces of the box. He was certain the lid hadn't opened and no crack appeared in the smooth metal sides. There was no explosion, no sudden disintegration of matter within the storage dome. Instead, there was a short, soundless, actinic flash that temporarily blinded the helmsman.

  The sound of running feet and anxious voices reached the barricade, people swarming over it. Someone bent over Sulu, helped him to his feet.

  "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"

  "Sulu! What happened?"

  He blinked, and tiny suns faded as rods and cones adjusted to the normal light. Spock and Uhura were supporting him, one at each arm.

  "I'm okay." He blinked again, rubbed at his eyes with both hands. "What did happen?" Then he was staring apologetically at Spock. "I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't stop him from throwing the trigger. He was standing right next to me when I looked inside for him."

  Spock didn't appear angry. On the contrary, his reply was more curious than reproving. "It appears not to matter, Mr. Sulu." The helmsman noticed that the first officer was no longer looking at him, but instead was staring at something else nearby. "This stasis box is defended, but not by a disruptor bomb. It acts only upon those in its immediate vicinity who try improperly to open it. Look."

  Sulu finally did so, turning to stare in the same direction as his superior. The stasis box, to all outward appearances unaffected, still rested in the paralyzed jaws of the compacter. One of the scientists was standing next to the device, which had been turned off, cautiously inspecting the tightly held box.

  Jaiao Beguin stood nearby, a surprised expression on his face. He appeared to be completely encased in a softly glowing, silvery material like chrome paint.

  "What happened to him?" Sulu asked, gaping at the statuelike figure of the thief.

  "It would seem," Spock theorized, "that anyone who attempts to open this particular stasis box is promptly enveloped in a stasis box of his own."

&nb
sp; "It's not a fatal method of defense, then," said Sulu, unable to keep from staring in fascination at the frozen silvery figure of the unfortunate Beguin.

  "Not technically, no," Spock agreed. "Our thief will remain conveniently frozen in time, as would anything encased by a stasis field, until such a time as a stasis-field disruptor can be used to release him safely. It will be quite a useful method of restraining him until a Federation expedition can arrive here with a disruptor and release him from his own field." He added firmly, "At that point he will be transferred to a less exotic but equally confining place of imprisonment."

  "If that's all the box does, Mr. Spock, why can't we try and open it ourselves? The worst that could happen would be that the opening device or its operator would also be encased in another stasis field." Uhura eyed the box excitedly.

  "Not necessarily, Lieutenant," Spock hastened to correct her. "We do not know by what method the box's defense system decides on who is trying to open it improperly. This time it encased only the immediate operator of the opening device. We cannot assume that if we attempt the same thing the box will not decide to encase the entire station. We have no idea of its limits."

  Uhura looked downcast. "We'll have to wait to see what's inside it, then."

  Spock nodded. "At least until we rejoin the ship, Lieutenant. I am certain Engineer Scott can construct an adequate stasis-field disruptor." He walked over to the compacter, exchanged a few words with the scientist inspecting it. The woman threw a small switch and the sides of the compacter moved away from the box. Spock picked it up. It rested inert and innocent in his arms. He turned to his two companions.

  "First, we must get to Starbase Twenty-Five and rendezvous with the ship. The captain and I allowed ample time for us to reach here, pick up the box, and make rendezvous, so I do not think our unexpected delay will be of any consequence. We still have plenty of time to reach the base before the Enterprise is required to depart for Briamos. Nevertheless, I wish to get there as quickly as possible."