"Slow again to warp-factor two, Mr. Sulu." The helmsman complied, but the action had no effect on the jawanda. It continued to turn in on itself, still only millimeters thick, but growing deeper and thicker, like sediment deposited by some strange intergalactic stream. Total darkness soon showed on the screen as the jawanda's density finally grew impenetrable.
"I've seen a spider do the same thing to its prey," McCoy muttered, "wrapping it again and again in folds of silk. When it's finished, it bites through the silk and—"
"Don't arachnemorphize, Doctor," interrupted Spock.
McCoy blinked, his morbid visualizations temporarily shattered. "Don't what?"
"Don't ascribe spiderlike characteristics to an alien being."
"Captain?"
Kirk bent quickly to the intercom. "What is it, Scotty?"
"I dinna know for sure, sir. We're puttin' out as much power as usual, but for some reason it's not being utilized properly in the engines."
"Mr. Sulu," Kirk asked tightly, "what's our speed?"
"Warp-two, Captain . . . no, wait a minute." The helmsman studied his instruments in disbelief. "That is, we're supposed to be moving at warp-two—but we're not. In fact, we seem to be slowing!"
"I believe I know what is happening, Captain." Kirk looked over at Spock, could sense Vulcan mind-wheels turning rapidly. "The jawanda is an energy converter, and a remarkably efficient one. We are currently putting out a tremendous amount of radiant energy, compared to what it normally receives in the comparative emptiness of intergalactic space. This energy is highly concentrated, yet available without the threat of an attendant gravitational field. To the jawanda the Enterprise must seem a magical apparition of the greatest delicacy.
"Naturally, it wishes to maximize this unexpected new food source. By enveloping us in repeated folds of its absorbtive surface, it is logically attempting to contain all the radiant energy we produce, trying to prevent it from escaping into free space."
"Warp-factor one, Captain," came an excited voice from the speaker at Kirk's elbow. "Dilithium crystals showing stress patterns along interval cleavage planes," the chief engineer added. "If we don't shut down the drive now, sir, we risk losin' any chance of reactivatin' it."
Suddenly the awesome depths of the intergalactic gulf were pressing intimately around Kirk's mind. The very possibility of becoming trapped out here, many light-years away from the outermost fringes of the Milky Way, let alone the Federation, was not pleasant to dwell upon.
"All right, Scotty, if you think it's that vital, shut down the converters. We'll use impulse power to maintain life-support functions only—and hope the jawanda isn't so starved it begins to drain that too."
"Aye, Captain."
Kirk heard him shouting commands to assistants and subordinates. His concern paramount, Scotty even forgot to sign off.
Kirk closed the open link to Engineering himself. A low whine rose in intensity for a brief moment, then faded to silence, the dying wheeze of an electronic zephyr. For an instant the lights on the bridge flickered confusedly before the changeover was complete. They brightened again, as strong as before, dimmer only in Kirk's anxious imagination.
"Any comments on our situation from our alien guests, Mr. Spock?" the captain inquired hopefully.
Spock listened and informed him, "Hivar the Toq had not considered the possibility that the ship's radiation might prove an attraction to the jawanda. Conversely, the Lactrans are delighted."
"Nice to know that the present predicament is pleasing to someone," McCoy murmured sardonically.
"They commend you on your speed in capturing one so easily and in such a subtle fashion, and wonder how soon we can begin the return journey to Lactra."
"That's fine, Spock, except our friends have things a bit mixed up. It's the jawanda who's captured us, not the other way around." Kirk thought several uncomplimentary things about Lactrans, for the moment not caring particularly if his emanations were detected. Still, he mused, their present troubles were not the fault of the Lactrans. Nor of Hivar the Toq, whose knowledge of jawandas had admittedly extended no further than the atmosphere of Boqu.
"It is possible, Captain," Spock added, "that the creature will depart the Enterprise of its own accord, now that the main generator of radiation on board has been shut down. I do not think we should wait for this dubious eventuality. Somehow we must make it release the ship, at least long enough to permit us to get safely underway, at a speed sufficient to prevent a recurrence of the present awkward situation."
Awkward! McCoy shouted silently, amazed as ever at the first officer's capacity for understatement.
"It certainly can't worsen our difficulties to make the attempt, Spock," agreed a thoughtful Kirk. He studied the blanked-out scanners for a moment, then decided, "Let's take a firsthand look at what we're dealing with. Bones, you come too."
McCoy glanced at him curiously. " 'Come'? Come where, Jim?"
"Outside, of course. We can't tell very much about the jawanda from in here."
While McCoy gaped at Kirk, Spock wondered easily, "Shall I contact Chief Kyle, Captain?"
Kirk made a negative gesture. "No, Mr. Spock—no transporters. The creature could drain the power from the transporter as fast as it was renewed, though I don't think it would notice such a small output of channeled radiation. But I am concerned that the transporter beam might fail to penetrate the energy-sensitive substance of the creature's body. Remember what Hivar told us about its screening capabilities? Rather than take that indeterminate risk, we'll go out through one of the emergency-access ports—and hope the jawanda doesn't decide to suck the energy from our life-support belts."
Before long the three men found themselves standing within the lock of the emergency port nearest the bridge, on the upper section of the ship's primary hull.
"Activate life-support systems," Kirk ordered. Lime-yellow auras instantly enveloped them all. Kirk saw by McCoy's approving nod that his own system was functioning properly. That slim yellowish halo was all that stood between them and the absolute cold of intergalactic space.
"Cycle the lock, Mr. Spock." The first officer touched the necessary switch, and the exterior door began to slide aside. Kirk felt a slight pull as the wisps of atmosphere missed by the ship's recyclers rushed out through the widening gap.
Looking out, he saw only the expected darkness. Yet there was something different about it. There should not have been a total absence of distant light, but there was.
Putting out an aura-shielded hand, he encountered resistance where none was expected. A slick rubbery wall sealed the lock exit, though the slickness was more imagined than felt, since his fingers did not actually make contact with the jawanda's body. Experimentally, he pushed. The dark material gave with surprising flexibility. Kirk had had no idea what to expect—something hard and resistant, perhaps, or soft like dark jelly. Instead, there was only this easily elastic smoothness.
For a moment he wondered if this was actually the body of their continent-sized nemesis. Then he jumped slightly as several small purple coruscations ran in uneven spurts across the living surface before them. The jawanda was sweating fire.
"Wonderful creature," Spock murmured.
"Let's admire it from a distance, Spock," suggested McCoy tersely. "What about trying a phaser on it, Jim?"
"Mr. Spock?" Kirk stepped back from the exit and regarded the dark substance expectantly as Spock removed the small hand phaser from his waist. The first officer set the beam on low power and directed it outward.
Blue light touched the black film blocking the doorway. Where it contacted the surface of the creature the material began to glow. The dark substance turned a light yellow at first. This melted rapidly into orange, then red, and finally into a rich purple. The mild assault was exquisitely beautiful and wholly ineffective.
"Try more power, Spock," Kirk advised. Spock did so, gradually adjusting the phaser until it was on maximum. The intense emissions produced only a slight rippli
ng in the jawanda's body, causing it to retreat outward about half a meter from the edge of the lock.
Of course, this could have been due to sheer enjoyment of the radiation bath as much as to discomfort or injury.
"That's enough, Mr. Spock," Kirk finally declared. The first officer flipped off the phaser and reset it on his waist. Kirk was only slightly disappointed. He hadn't really expected that the tiny phaser would be capable of threatening the enormous organism.
"It absorbs energy like a sponge, Captain," commented Spock.
"What about the ship's main phasers this close to it?" wondered McCoy.
Spock considered, "I think the effect would be essentially the same as before, Doctor: a futile waste of energy. There is so much jawanda to dissipate so little power . . . and it could put a severe strain on our already dangerously weakened power supply."
Kirk studied the blank wall of living material. The purple glow was fading slowly, contentedly. "What about the possibilities of a biological assault, Bones? Some sort of injection?"
McCoy almost laughed. "On a creature the size of North America? As thin as it is, I think it would handle the most massive dose I could give it the same way Spock says it would a blast from our main phasers—by dissipating it throughout its body. That's assuming I could concoct something able to affect its body. There doesn't appear to be anything remotely resembling a central nerve center, or even nerves. They might exist, but even if the creature allowed it, we could vivisect a few dozen kilometers and miss any vital points by a week's march.
"No, thanks, I'm not ready to tackle this. Give me a nice simple problem instead, like solving a Boquian epidemic." He gestured helplessly at the black film blockading the exit. "I'm sorry, Jim. but there's nothing I can do."
"Then that leaves one thing," Kirk said determinedly, "that we haven't tried." After double-checking to insure that the gravity specifics of his life-support system were engaged, he walked forward, put both hands against the dark skin—and shoved hard.
The jawanda's body parted like a torn sheet, and Kirk's hands went right through.
Rather than expressing satisfaction, he sounded abashed. "We overlooked the obvious in favor of the technical. A common mistake of mechanically minded civilizations." Using his hands, he widened the gap. The substance resisted steadily, but continued to give way under the captain's firm pressure.
"Follow me." Stepping carefully through the hole, he walked out onto the surface of the jawanda.
They emerged facing rearward. Instead of the sloping back of the Enterprise's primary hull, flanked by the two torpedo shapes of the warp-drive propulsion units, they saw only a black formlessness. It turned the streamlined cruiser into a dark nebula of constantly shifting outline.
A long tail like the back of a black comet stretched into the distance aft, glowing now and then with vibrant sparks and the random chromatic streaks of internal lightning.
"Wonder what we look like from a distance," McCoy murmured aloud, at once amazed and appalled by the sight.
"The cape of some fantastic giant," Kirk hypothesized, "or the image of legended Azathoth . . . We've become a child's dream, Bones."
"Or its nightmare," McCoy countered.
"It is conceivable," Spock ventured, refusing to be drawn into such useless, illogical speculation, "that by utilizing the manual labor of the entire ship's complement we could physically remove the creature from the hull. However, this would prove futile in the end, since there is no way to prevent it from reestablishing itself once all hands have returned inside."
"I dislike the thought of totally abandoning the ship to automatics, even for a few minutes," Kirk added as they made their way across the black substance. It rippled eerily underfoot wherever an aura-clad boot touched down, like concentric circles fleeing a stone flung into a pond.
Kirk put a foot down with experimental firmness, then raised it quickly. Gently the material reformed itself over the exposed circlet of metal, apparently undamaged. Leaning over, he peered intently at the dark flesh, but could detect nothing resembling a seam or repaired wound.
"Remarkably efficient in all ways," Spock declared, also studying the area where Kirk's foot had pressed down.
"Yes. It seems to—" He broke off, staring rearward.
"What is it, Jim?" a worried McCoy inquired.
"Is it my imagination, Bones, or is the jawanda starting to move?"
McCoy looked around, and even as he watched the activity Kirk thought he had sensed increased visibility. "No, I see it too, Jim."
At the edges the colossal mass seemed to be rippling and fluttering with great violence. A moment later their life-support belts reacted to similar action underfoot, keeping the men firmly attached to the immediate surface beneath them as it too began to move up and down in increasingly higher arcs.
"Captain, I think it best that we reenter the ship, at least until this sudden activity subsides."
"You won't get any argument from me, Spock," admitted Kirk readily. He was already moving as fast as possible back toward the open hatchway. Despite the knowledge that the life-support systems would hold them tight to the jawanda, he had to fight down an urge to drop flat and hug the surface.
"Why do you think it's reacting like this, Spock?"
"There may be any number of reasons, Captain," the first officer responded, a smooth thrust of body-substance sending him arching meters above Kirk and McCoy. Then Spock had dropped into a low pit and they were looking down at him.
"Possibly it is irritated by our presence, though I think that unlikely. It may be seeking to realign itself to further maximize its energy gathering potential. Or . . ." He paused. "It is possible that, with the ship's warp-drive units deactivated, the reason for its enveloping the Enterprise—to be wrapped tightly about a source of intense and now vanished radiation—has disappeared. It may be preparing to leave."
"Then I suggest we hurry," advised McCoy, exercising a bit of understatement himself as he increased his pace.
After another couple of minutes had passed, Kirk slowed his progress across the rolling surface. Frowning, he muttered, "We should have reached the hatchway by now." Turning in a slow circle, he examined the living terrain behind them. All was shifting, hilly blackness. No comforting light showed through.
"As a matter of fact, how are we going to relocate it? The jawanda is so dense now that the light from the lock can't penetrate it."
There was silence, each man wrapped in his own thoughts. Then McCoy said hesitantly, pointing, "I think it was over that way, Jim."
Slowly they retraced what they hoped had been their original steps—slowly so that they wouldn't overrun the lock entrance, and also because the jawanda was now heaving up and down in twenty-meter-high ripples. Only plenty of experience working in low-g environments kept them from becoming violently ill.
After five minutes McCoy had to admit that his guess had been wrong. Kirk and Spock were equally disoriented.
"It is imperative that we do not continue to search blindly about, Captain," Spock declared, his even, controlled tones a great comfort in the fleshy chaos heaving around them. "I believe we must risk the utilization of transporter energy to have ourselves beamed back into the ship. So long as the jawanda remains attached to the hull, we will never locate the open lock."
"I agree," McCoy added quickly, the distant glow of the Milky Way galaxy bobbing drunkenly behind them. "Even though the creature hasn't threatened us, I don't like the idea of being stuck out here as our life-support charges run down."
"We don't know for certain that the jawanda is harmless, Doctor," Spock observed coolly, not enhancing McCoy's current state of mind.
Kirk nodded his assent to Spock, who removed his communicator from his waist and flipped it open. His words carried to his two companions as he addressed the open speaker grid.
"Spock to Main Transporter Room, Spock to Main Transporter Room." There was a silent pause. The first officer looked across at Kirk. "Acknowledge, Tran
sporter Room." Still no reply. "Nothing, Captain—not even normal background noise."
"Maybe your communicator is malfunctioning, Spock," Kirk suggested. Reaching down, he opened his own instrument. "This is the captain speaking. Transporter Room . . . bridge . . . anyone receiving, please acknowledge." Only the emptiness of space sounded from the tiny grid.
"I should have guessed," Spock broke in, in his own quiet way furious with himself. "Naturally the energy-screening abilities of the jawanda blocks out the weak waves produced by our communicators. There is only—"
Despite superhuman balance, he lurched forward as the surface moved beneath them. Kirk nearly fell backward, and McCoy tumbled flat.
The jawanda, its primary source of radiation now completely cut off, was once again feeling the need to spread its energy-gathering bulk as wide as possible to gather the stray radiation drifting across the intergalactic gulf. The violent contraction which had thrown everyone off balance was caused by the creature's beginning to separate from the Enterprise.
Kirk fought to keep from screaming in panic as the star-field wheeled crazily around them. The energy-eater finally straightened out, having unwound itself from the hull.
Looking back, Kirk saw the Enterprise behind them. It was shrinking at a terrifying pace at the tail end of a vast dark carpet.
Ahead of them lay nothing but black infinity . . .
X
Kirk rolled over and managed to sit up. "Communicators, Spock. There's nothing to screen them out now." But his first officer was already reaching for the compact instrument, flipping the top open.
"Spock to Enterprise, Spock to Enterprise . . . Come in, Enterprise."
A faint voice barely recognizable as that of the ship's helmsman issued from the speaker, weak with increasing distance and distorted by the crackle of radiant discharge from the jawanda beneath them.
"Mr. Spock . . . what's happened? Our scanners are operating again. The jawanda has broken free and—"