The dirt turned orange and froze in midfall as colorful aberrations swept the landscape and all Kirk's fears were suddenly realized. He fought the paralysis, fought to activate his communicator. If he could just make one shout, relay one order to have them beamed up . . .
But the effort was useless. His finger wouldn't move another millimeter closer to that crucial switch.
There was no fury in the Voice. No spite, no indignation. Kirk had the impression that such petty emotional flavorings were beyond the mind behind the Voice. If it contained any recognizable inflection, it was one of puzzlement.
"You are still here," it announced solemnly. "And you are still interfering." Then it added, without any change in tone, "I am angry."
"We didn't mean to interfere," Kirk explained desperately. "We have our own rules of conduct which forbid intrusion into the affairs of others. We—"
"Then you have not only disobeyed My rules, you have broken your own as well."
"No. We simply could not leave one of our own behind. It is our responsibility to take care of those placed under our protection, just as it's your responsibility to take care of yours.
"We could not leave Commander bn Bem where he could interfere with your"—he hesitated—"children. Would you really want that?" He waited tensely for the response.
"Yes," that rippling voice finally replied, "it is so. You have some wisdom, James Tiberius Kirk. The lost one is found, then?"
"He is found," Kirk admitted. "We will leave."
Another voice sounded—bn Bem's. "This One is greatly distressed. This One has erred. The mission was to judge, and the right of judgment no longer exists. This One must disassemble unity."
"Disassemble?" Kirk started.
"Never again to exist as a cooperation. This unity is defective, insufficient, inadequate, and false. This unit must cease to exist."
Kirk started to protest—certainly a severe reprimand was in order, but as he understood it the Pandronian was contemplating suicide. His personal inclinations were overriden by more powerful concerns. "No!"
bn Bem looked around wildly. "What . . .?"
"Do not destroy yourself."
"But—This One has erred," bn Bem protested. "This One has tried to judge Kirk Captain and Spock Commander, only to be found himself wanting. This One has acted wrongly."
"You may have made a mistake," the Voice declared, without judging the Pandronian's actions in any way, "but if you disassemble you cannot learn from your error. Errors demand recognition. They also demand nonrepetition. If you disassemble, you will not be able to never repeat your mistake."
Spock admired the logic of it while bn Bem argued uncertainly. "And you—you do not demand punishment, for the breaking of your laws?"
Kirk was ready to scream; was bn Bem trying to get them all disassembled? He needn't have worried. He was underestimating their observer.
"Punishment?" Now the puzzlement was unmistakable. "What is punishment?"
"Revenge."
"Revenge? Intelligent beings require no revenge. Punishment is necessary only where learning cannot occur without it. You are behind such things as I am above it. My children here are different. That is why you must leave, so as not to corrupt their development with such obscene concepts as punishment and revenge."
The last comment was uttered with an inflection of contempt so strong it made Kirk momentarily dizzy.
"I am humbled," was all bn Bem managed to whisper.
Suddenly Kirk found that his own anger at bn Bem had become a source of embarrassment. "We'll be on our way now. if we may," he asked humbly.
"Yes. Go now . . ."
Natural coloration returned to the jungle and Kirk regained control of his body. For a long moment he studied the landscape, but saw only trees and vines, heard only the sounds of bird-things and shy crawlers. There was the rustle of a breeze. Nothing more.
He took out his communicator, addressed it slowly. "Kirk to Enterprise. Beam us up . . ."
bn Bem was with him as the captain resumed his position at the con. "Stand by to break orbit."
Spock was back at the library station, awaiting instructions. "Mr. Spock, classify this planet, Delta Theta Three, as being under strict Federation quarantine from this stardate forward. Said quarantine subject to Starfleet review of the official report of this mission. Under no circumstances is any vessel to approach this world."
"A restriction planet Pandro will also respect," bn Bem declared helpfully.
"I compliment you both on a wise decision, gentlemen," said Spock, working to prepare the necessary documentation.
"It's necessary for them as well as for us, Spock," Kirk explained.
Spock nodded, turned his gaze to the main viewscreen. It displayed a wide-sensor picture of the planet in question, still rotating demurely below them, giving no hint of the extraordinary alien intelligence inhabiting it.
"It is fascinating, Captain. A highly advanced alien entity using this system as a laboratory for guiding another people to racial maturity. Almost a god, you might say."
"Such comparisons are as meaningless as they are farfetched, Mr. Spock. By contrast to the ruling mind of Delta Theta Three, we are all children."
"In This One's case," bn Bem mumbled with becoming humility, "is still an eggling."
Kirk looked gratified. If, despite all the trouble, this expedition had taught the Pandronian a little modesty, then it was worth all they'd been through.
"Take us out of orbit, Mr. Sulu. It's time to—"
Uhura broke in with an exclamation of surprise. "Captain, I'm picking up a transmission from the surface."
"Put it through the bridge speakers, Lieutenant."
Kirk, Spock, and bn Bem recognized that wizened, maternal voice, which rippled and heaved with vast sighs like some midocean wave:
"Go in peace. Go in peace, children. You have learned much, though you have much left to learn. Be proud and—someday, perhaps—return."
That was the tantalizing bequest they bore with them as, at warp four, the Enterprise left the system of the sun Delta Theta.
That was a promise worth carrying home . . .
III
Kirk and Spock remained affected by their contact with the extraordinary intelligence experimenting on Delta Theta Three, only in their case the effects didn't show. The opposite was true of Commander Ari bn Bem.
In contrast to the first part of the voyage, the commander had turned into a model passenger. His demeanor as they traveled toward Starfleet Science Station 24 was downright subdued.
Previously his interest in Federation procedures and operations had run from nonexistent to outright disdain. Following the humbling experience on Delta Theta Three, he exhibited a powerful desire to use the limited time remaining to him to learn all he could about the methods of Federation survey, navigation, research, and other exploratory techniques. So furiously did he plunge into his new studies that Kirk feared for his health. The commander refused to slow down, however.
"Have wasted much time already, Kirk Captain," bn Bem told him in response to Kirk's expressions of concern. "This One's ignorance must be assuaged. Cost to body self is negligible in comparison."
bn Bem's prior intransigence manifested itself now and then, but only when the material he wished to absorb wasn't instantly available, or when he chose to dispute a bit of science or procedure. So hard did he question various technicians that they almost wished they were again victims of the Pandronian's contempt instead of his voracious desire to learn.
It had been Kirk's intention to leave the commander at Science Station 24. According to the captain's original orders from Starfleet Command, the commander would remain at the station for a month, intensively researching Federation analytic methodology until a Pandronian ship arrived to take him home.
But Kirk was not to lose bn Bem's company as soon as he thought.
"I have contact with Science Station Twenty-four, Captain," Uhura announced. "They have an urgent mess
age."
"Classified?" Kirk asked discreetly, with a glance at the science station, where bn Bem was engaged in earnest discussion with Spock.
Uhura checked her instrumentation. "It doesn't appear to be, Captain."
"Very well, Lieutenant. Put it on the screen." Kirk swiveled the command chair as Uhura moved to comply. A brief burst of static and the viewscreen produced a portrait.
The face of Lieutenant Commander Kunjolly stared back at him. Long white sideburns looking like puffs of steel wool flared out from skin the hue of dark chocolate. In an age of scientific miracles, the station commander's smooth pate was a glaring anomaly.
"Captain Kirk," the slightly high-pitched voice offered in greeting. "Good to see you again."
"Hello, Monty," a smiling Kirk replied. "Nice to see you, too. I have some good news for you." It would be considered more than good, he reflected, when the no doubt apprehensive station staff learned of their incipient guest's transformation.
"And I have some puzzling news," Kunjolly riposted, "though not for you. But go ahead and tell me yours first."
Kirk looked uncertainly at the screen. "All right."
He glanced over at the science station. The conversation between bn Bem and Spock had grown lively.
"Your assigned visitor had an experience at our final survey stop which seems to have modified the inherent irascibility of his kind. I don't know how familiar you are with the Pandronians, but you'll be glad to know that this one's become almost charming."
Kunjolly grinned back at him. "That's very gratifying to learn, Captain." The grin turned to a concerned frown. "Though I wonder if we'll be enjoying his company for long."
Kirk's puzzlement grew. "What are you talking about, Monty?" Visions of having to play host to even a reformed bn Bem rose in his mind.
The station commander shuffled some papers out of Kirk's view, then looked back into the pickup. "I'm holding a sealed message for your Pandronian VIP, Captain, beamed straight to us from his homeworld of Pandro."
"For me a message?" came a startled query. Apparently bn Bem hadn't been as totally absorbed in his conversation with Spock as Kirk had thought. Now he ambled over to stare at the screen, then down at Kirk.
"What means this, Kirk Captain?"
"I was hoping you could tell me, Commander."
"This One is expecting no sealed messages from home," bn Bem declared openly. "This One is thoroughly puzzled."
"You've no idea what the message is?"
"None more than you, Kirk Captain."
"Oh, and something else, Captain Kirk."
Kirk glanced back up at the screen. "What is it, Monty?"
The station commander looked to his left. "I have additional orders for the Enterprise from Starfleet Command. They read as follows:
" 'The Enterprise is hereby directed to provide, pursuant to Federation law and naval restrictions, all services requested by Pandronian representative Commander Ari bn Bem subsequent to his receipt of important message to him from his government.' "
"That's all very irregular," Kirk observed, a mite testily. "Why wasn't the message sent directly to us? It could have reached us several days ago."
"The Federation orders came through only this morning, stationtime, Captain Kirk. As for the Pandronian message, there wouldn't have been any point in sending it to you."
"Why not?" Kirk wanted to know.
"It was stated explicitly in English accompanying the Pandronian that delivery of the message was to await complementary orders from Starfleet—the one that came through this morning.
"Besides, it's all in Pandronian code. I wouldn't like to try transcribing it for rebroadcast. No one here has any clue as to the contents of the message."
"Someone at Starfleet must, Captain," Spock put in, "if they acceded so readily to the Pandronian request."
"Not necessarily, Spock," Kirk mused thoughtfully. "The Pandronians might have made a request for unspecified aid. Starfleet wants Pandro as an ally badly enough that they might have promised our help without knowing the specifics of what that help is wanted for."
"That is possible, Captain," Spock conceded.
"Very well. The sooner we dock in, the faster well find out what this is all about." He snapped directions to those manning the con. "Mr. Sulu, Mr. Arex, bring us into Station Twenty-four. Gently, if you please." His attention returned to the screen.
"We should be in your office in a little while, Monty. I expect you're as curious to know the nature of that message from Pandro as we are."
"I am, Captain Kirk. However, the orders from Starfleet are all-inclusive, which means that Commander bn Bem need not apprise us of his message's contents."
"I know," Kirk admitted, trying not to let his worry show. "Enterprise out."
"Station Twenty-four out," a solemn Kunjolly acknowledged, closing the transmission.
"Well, Commander," Kirk began, facing bn Bem, "still no idea of what's going on?"
"Not ever before have I heard of such a thing, Kirk Captain," the Pandronian replied. He seemed genuinely concerned. Reflecting his nervousness, his head shifted from side to side on his shoulders.
Even though he knew that a Pandronian could separate his body into at least three major sections—each one capable of independent motility—Kirk still found it unnerving to see the commander adjust his structure so casually.
"It must be important, Captain," insisted Spock from his position at the science station. "By requesting such extreme assistance from Starfleet, the Pandronians are jeopardizing their neutrality. That is a great deal to risk merely to speed the commander on his way. Obviously, his presence is desired for some emergency so severe that they cannot wait for one of their own ships to come and pick him up."
"Makes sense, Mr. Spock," the captain agreed. From what he knew of Pandro, which was little, Kirk found the entire situation unlikely. Something had worried the Pandronian government enough for them to modify their fierce independence. That was all to the Federation's good, but not necessarily to that of his ship.
Science Station 24 consisted of a central hub in the shape of a slowly turning disk from which the multiple spokes of connector passageways protruded. Various-shaped modular stations bulged at the terminus of each long pressurized corridor; spheres, cubes, ellipsoids, and combinations of these and other forms held laboratories and living quarters, the whole station a hallucinant's vision of an exploded popcorn ball.
Each module housed a different function, from complete laboratories dedicated to the study of zero-g biology to long tubular structures filled with facilities for examining the movement of subatomic particles.
One of the longer spokes ended in a simple large airlock. No other modules were placed near it. Even so, it was a delicate maneuver on Sulu's part to align the Enterprise properly with the station docking port. The simple spoke provided none of the navigational aids of a completely self-enclosed Starfleet station dock, but those weren't required here. Only supply ships and occasional ships like the Enterprise on special missions stopped at the isolated research stations. Elaborate facilities would have been wasted.
Gravity increased to near normal as the turbolift carried Kirk, Spock, and Commander Ari bn Bem down the long pressurized shaft toward the central station hub. From the central turbolift depot, where cargo and passenger lifts transported supplies and personnel to the many distant lab modules, it was a short walk to the outer offices of the station commandant, Lieutenant Commander Kunjolly. An ensign greeted them and after a short conversation via intercom, directed them to the inner sanctum.
"Good to see you again, Captain Kirk," Kunjolly exclaimed as the three entered. He left his desk to shake Kirk's hand, then repeated the formality with the Enterprise's, first officer. "And you, Mr. Spock."
"Dr. Kunjolly," the science officer said by way of return, using a warmer title than the station chiefs military one. Spock was anxious to learn the nature of Kunjolly's extraordinary message for bn Bem, and the sooner formalitie
s, however pleasant, were over, the better he would like it
Spock's concern was echoed by the tall blue form alongside him. "Anxiousness This One expresses to observe message," stammered bn Bem hurriedly.
"I understand," Kunjolly declared. Returning to his seat behind the big desk, he passed a palm over its left side. There was a soft beep, duplicated by a second beep as his hand crossed over the spot once again.
A panel flipped open behind the desk. All three guests watched as the station commandant used an electronic key to open a locked drawer. After removing a tiny metal cube he relocked the drawer and pressed a hidden button. A three-panel viewer common to conference rooms on the Enterprise popped up in the center of the desk. Kunjolly inserted the message cube properly and hit still another switch.
Kirk and Spock stared expectantly at the tripartite screen as it lit up, but the flow of information which raced across was disappointingly incomprehensible. Not that either man had anticipated understanding the Pandronian message, but Kirk had half hoped he could make something out of the communication.
The complex cryptography proved totally alien, though, as alien as the Pandronians themselves. While Kirk waited impatiently, Commander bn Bem avidly examined the steady stream of information. Occasionally the Pandronian would produce a low gurgling noise, sounding like a faulty water pipe, but otherwise he remained silent as he studied the message. At the conclusion of the message, bn Bem let out a startling yelp, his eyes rolled over, and he collapsed to the floor.
"Commander bn Bem!" Kirk shouted, rushing to kneel above the motionless form. Kunjolly hurried around from behind his desk, and Spock also bent over the prone Pandronian. The commander's eyes remained shut and his upper torso appeared to be shivering slightly.
Kirk put out a hand toward one shoulder, intending to give the body a gentle shake, and abruptly hesitated.
"Mr. Spock, how much do we know of Pandronian physiology?"
"Practically nothing, Captain."
Kirk's hand drew back.
Kunjolly's hands had tightened into worried fists. "There must have been something powerful in that message. It appears to have induced a fatal shock."