One Small Step Page 12

  Spock ignored McCoy’s muttering through the entire length of the long sloping corridor until they entered another oval chamber. This was the first large-scale space they had found inside the station. The ceiling was twice as high as the chambers on the upper levels.

  Another square computer node was mounted in the center overhead. Directly underneath it was a square casing four point two meters wide and three point nine-six meters high. It had slots and screens on the two sides Spock could observe, with small black windows set into the smooth white surface. The computer node overhead was muted, with the colors hardly moving, similar to the cube in the entrance chamber.

  Spock examined the readout on his tricorder. “The computer node is inert, Captain. There is currently minimal power levels being emitted by the computer bank below.”

  “So this is the defense computer,” Kirk said slowly.

  Spock circled the computer bank to see the other panels. Kirk was next to him. Both stopped short when they saw the archway behind the computer bank.

  It was a freestanding arch. The shape was nearly square, with thick legs and a lintel that crossed over their heads. Though the computer bank and the rest of the room were made of the usual bright white osmium, the arch was constructed of burnished blue neutronium. The base of each leg was molded in a series of bulging and incised shapes. An etched design ran across the top lintel, which Spock carefully recorded. After running a comparison, it didn’t conform to any pattern of elements found in the Starfleet database.

  “What is it, Spock?” Kirk asked as the Kalandans approached the arch.

  “Unknown, Captain.” Spock quickly analyzed his tricorder readings. “Primarily neutronium in construction. My tricorder is unable to penetrate the surface.”

  “Is it part of the computer?”

  “Perhaps, Captain. Consider this device.” Spock aimed his tricorder at a cylindrical unit attached to the outside of the computer bank. Like the arch, its outer casing was made of burnished blue neutronium. Spock could read numerous internal components inside the computer bank. None included elemental neutronium.

  “Do you know what this is?” Kirk asked Commander Tasm.

  Her wonder and excitement were clear in her expression. It was the first time Spock had observed an excess of emotion from the Kalandan. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  Tasm put her hand on the cylindrical unit. It was ten point two centimeters in diameter and forty-eight point six-five centimeters long. Her two officers seemed similarly baffled.

  Kirk glanced up at the muted node in the ceiling. “Was it damaged by our phasers?”

  “I will endeavor to ascertain that, Captain.”

  Wasting no time, Spock immediately began his preliminary examination. First Officer Kad also circled the computer bank, touching various parts of an unusual padd that folded out from a pocket-sized unit to a micro-thin screen.

  Kad nodded slightly in an acknowledgment, which Spock returned. The Kalandan was admirably self-restrained, confining himself to comments about the work at hand.

  It appeared they would be cooperating fully with the Kalandans in their investigation of the defense computer. Spock approved. In his opinion, scientists were natural allies. It often took a joint effort to fully comprehend the unknown.

  Chapter Eleven

  TASM DIDN’T WASTE TIME congratulating herself on getting access to the defense computer. It wasn’t difficult to manipulate computer programs, since by design they were predictable. Captain Kirk’s reports had stated that the computer logarithms retained Losira’s emotional response. Since Commander Losira had left the station on defense mode to await the return of Kalandans, that’s what Tasm had given her: Kalandan descendants in trouble. Kirk had assisted in crafting her appeal by giving her insight into why the Kalandans didn’t have children on board. With so much rich material to work with, it was easy to convince the Losira replica to help her.

  Now they had access to the defense computer, and it looked promising. According to Kad’s preliminary report submitted through the feed in their padds, the neutronium device might, in fact, be capable of dimensional transport across interstellar distances. Of minor importance; Kad had also discovered advances in micro-monofilament relays and conversion infusers.

  Tasm took the opportunity when Dr. McCoy returned to the Enterprise to send Luz back to their ship. Then she ordered Marl down to the Kalandan station. His target was the chief engineer on board the Enterprise, and Tasm wanted to give him the edge he would need with this unique technology.

  Captain Kirk also made changes in personnel, bringing down two new security guards to replace the officers who had been stranded inside the station with him. Tasm almost disputed his assumption that Starfleet would maintain security over the station, but decided it was a moot point at this juncture.

  Kirk himself didn’t return to the ship. Instead, he frowned thoughtfully as he replaced his communicator. “I wonder what else Losira will tell us now that you’re here.”

  Tasm accompanied Kirk back to the command center. She regretted having to leave the defense computer, but anything Kirk learned about the Kalandans, she would need to know as well. Both of her pod-mates were quite capable of examining the defense computer, so she gracefully gave in to the demands of her character.

  Kirk seated himself in the command chair and Losira appeared. “Greetings Captain James T. Kirk of the Starfleet Starship Enterprise,” Losira stated.

  “Yes . . .” Kirk hesitated. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I didn’t understand that it was . . . necessary.”

  Tasm suppressed her amused reaction at Kirk’s obvious attraction to the holographic program. Whatever was important to him was important to her character. That was the way to get what the Petraw needed.

  “We’ve located the defense computer and are attempting to repair it now,” Kirk was telling Losira. “But we need to have access to the station’s engines. We need navigational power before the Klingons arrive.”

  Losira’s smile was wistful. “That information is controlled by the defense computer.”

  “The defense computer is under repair.”

  Losira merely waited for a request or question.

  “Can’t you show us the engines, so we can protect this station?” Kirk asked.

  “That information is controlled by the defense computer.”

  Kirk stood up. “You ask her.”

  Tasm sat down in the offered seat. “Losira has already given you the answer. She will likely defer requests for further access to the station to the defense computer.”

  Kirk folded his arms. “Your people certainly are cautious, Commander.”

  Tasm again shrugged. “How else does a civilization survive for tens of thousands of years? But there is one thing I do want to know.” Tasm turned to Losira. “Why didn’t you use the dimensional transporter to get help from your home star when your crew became infected with the virus?”

  The Losira replica looked downcast. “Our fellow Kalandans closed the portals in the colonies to prevent contamination from spreading. We have maintained our isolation and have refrained from using our portal to reach any other location. We await the supply ships that will bring relief to my people.”

  Tasm seemed satisfied. “The virus must have crossed back to our people through the portal. That’s what started the initial plagues.”

  “I see,” Kirk said noncommittally.

  Tasm continued with a series of questions: “How long were the scientists stationed on the planetoid?” “What was the mission of the advance force?” “How many worlds did the scientists come from?” “How big was Kalandan territory in your time?”

  Most of her questions were referred to the defense computer.

  “Have you recorded Losira’s logs?” Tasm asked Kirk. She already knew the answer, well aware that Kirk had not mentioned the existence of the logs yet.

  Kirk seemed discomforted. “Most of them, yes. Then we discovered t
he living quarters and began searching in there.”

  “May we copy your record of the logs?” Tasm requested. “That way, my crew can examine them against our database.”

  Kirk agreed. She sensed his reluctance as he gave the order to his crew for the data transfer from their computer to her ship.

  Tasm held her slight smile, remaining composed. She had been working toward that request since they had accessed the station. Now she would know everything that Kirk knew about the Kalandans.

  It was always good to make the target feel as if they were getting something extra.

  Tasm stood up, facing Kirk. Moving closer, she tilted her head back. Though they stood eye-to-eye, it gave the illusion that she was smaller, more defenseless than him. Sex roles were critical and surprisingly complex in human culture. Tasm had spent extra time in the information feed, gaining expertise on the subject. She intended to obtain additional information for the Petraw database.

  “Don’t you find this exhilarating?” Her face was inside the range of intimate space.

  Kirk stood very still. “Naturally, we don’t have the personal connection to the station that you do.”

  Tasm drew in her breath, turning from him. She strolled away, tracing her hand on the chair. The memory of how Losira gestured and moved helped her stay in character. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Captain Kirk. I will be sure to praise you to my fellow Kalandans.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly as she started toward him, adding, “I want to give you something to show you my appreciation.”

  She went right up to him, standing so she almost touched him. His breath warmed the air. Her hand reached into her pocket, pulling out the small carved stone he had found inside the station.

  She lifted it up between them. “Accept this historic artifact as the most meager token of my gratitude. I’m sure my people will do far more for you if given the chance. If you hadn’t explored this station, the signal wouldn’t have been sent. We owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid. I can think of no other way to show you how deeply you have affected my people, except —”

  Tasm broke off, leaning ever closer. Lightly she put her hand with the stone against his chest. She only had to reach out to touch her lips to his.

  He shifted closer, his mouth responding, deepening the kiss. She tightened her fingers into his uniform.

  Without warning, Kirk broke off contact. Both his hands were on her shoulders, gently pushing her away. There was an expression on his face — not quite doubtful, but uncomfortable. “I think that’s more gratitude than I deserve.”

  Tasm acquiesced with a slight smile, but she pressed the stone into his hand anyway. He automatically took it, closing his fist around the artifact.

  She thought it was an adequate start. “Let’s get back to work.”

  For some human reason, Captain Kirk expected Tasm and some of her crew to join his senior officers at a “reception” on board the Enterprise. It was necessary that they further ingratiate themselves with the Starfleet officers, so Tasm agreed.

  She returned to her ship before the reception to distribute the computer analysis of the Kalandan logs through the information feed to her pod-mates. After absorbing the information feed, Tasm would choose who to take to the reception with her. Kad and Marl would not be fully briefed, since they were only able to scan the analysis on their padds. But their attempt to repair the damaged defense computer was more important than cultural references.

  It was customary for Tasm to stay resolutely in character even on board their scout ship. She wouldn’t allow her “Losira” expression to slacken until she lay down in her cell to absorb the feed and meditate prior to their next encounter. Then she finally relaxed her muscles, allowing herself to consider the ramifications of acquiring interstellar transport technology.

  It would revolutionize the Petraw civilization! Her people were spread so far apart that it took generations for technology to make its way from one birthing world to the next. Using an interstellar portal, technological innovations could immediately be provided to every Petraw in the territory. Communication would also be instantaneous, rather than the slow relay of acquired data via their birthing world through the feed.

  Lying snug in her cell, Tasm was almost breathless with the possibilities. This was one technological find that wouldn’t be sent back on an automated drone. They would take the portal to Petraw territory themselves, protecting it along the way.

  She knew she was now leading a priority engagement, the first their scout ship had encountered. She was determined to succeed. Closing her eyes, she began to meditate on the Kalandan analysis in the information feed.

  If not for the refreshing idea that Luz would be at the reception, McCoy would have been irritated about squeezing into a dress uniform and engaging in small talk. He had spent days working like a fiend to find a cure for the virus, with his only break a few hours’ sleep on the hard ground. Under the circumstances, he would have thought it impossible to be charming in such a tight collar.

  But that Kalandan doctor was something special. That’s how he found himself standing next to Luz in the observation lounge, trying not to dribble synthehol down the front of his blue satin uniform.

  Everything looked festive. There were eight or nine senior officers present. Neither Spock nor Scotty were there — not that Spock ever enlivened a social occasion. They were both down on the station, working on the Kalandan defense computer.

  McCoy had his own opinions about repairing the defense computer. He thought they should leave it alone. They had lost three men before disabling it the last time. And after treating Sulu and Reinhart for the damage done by oxygen deprivation, McCoy was also not too keen on sending so many people down to the station to search the living quarters. Six teams in all, with one Kalandan and one Starfleet officer on each.

  While the methodical cataloging continued on the station, the reception was in full swing. Uhura and Chekov were talking to Commander Tasm and Captain Kirk in the back of the lounge. Dr. M’Benga was chatting with another female Kalandan officer called Mlan. She had dramatic black hair and brows like the Kalandan commander. Sulu was sampling the typically eclectic Federation spread along with a seemingly young crewman, Officer Pir. Pir was a relatively plump Kalandan who seemed nervous in spite of, or perhaps because of, his constant smile.

  All four of the Kalandans dressed exactly the same, with dark coveralls closed to the base of their necks. They obviously didn’t believe in evening wear. Other than the arrangement of their hair, it was tough to tell them apart. But Luz’s blue-green eyelids were distinctive. Then again, that might be because he had a special regard for her.

  He spent as much time with Luz as he could. She kept closing her eyes and swaying to the jazz playing in the background, undoubtedly summoned up by the captain’s yeoman. McCoy appreciated the sight of her enjoyment.

  The yeoman’s tasteful touches could also be seen in the fresh-cut flowers on the table, and the dim lighting that emphasized the starry vista beyond the observation wall. The curve of the planetoid loomed in the lower corner of the window. Its appearance was deceptive: it looked like a typical Class-M planet with blue water and brown land masses. Spock had discovered that this illusion was also created by the magnetic inversion. Undoubtedly the station was designed to masquerade as a natural planet, orbiting in a solar system while the Kalandans covertly performed their investigations.

  Slightly above the Enterprise was the red Kalandan ship with its odd bulging hull.

  “This is going to sound strange,” McCoy told Luz. “But I don’t know the name of your ship.”

  Luz gestured dismissal. “It doesn’t have a name.”

  “Surely it must have some designation,” McCoy insisted.

  Luz hesitated. “It’s scout ship Y8847. I’m sure that’s meaningless to you.”

  McCoy found himself nodding acceptance, but it was unusual. Most alien species gave names to their vessels. And according
to Scotty’s report, the Kalandan ship had seen a lot of light-years, with certain pitting in the hull that could only be caused by uninterrupted decades in space.

  “Do you prefer to be on the ship rather than the colony?” McCoy asked.

  Luz seemed uncomfortable, and actually glanced around before answering, “Frankly, I’d really rather be on our planet. All this space travel is not what I had hoped for when I was growing up.”

  McCoy thought she was refreshing. He sometimes felt like he was surrounded by space-mad youngsters who were unduly eager to be roaming around the galaxy. They had no idea how dangerous it was.

  Luz reached out and squeezed his arm sympathetically. “I can tell you’d rather be resting in your own quarters.”

  “A delightful thought,” McCoy admitted, knowing she wouldn’t take offense.

  Luz glanced at the mostly empty trays of food. “The reception appears to be almost over. You’ll be done with work soon.”

  Regretfully McCoy shook his head. “I’m not finished for the night. I have something to do in sickbay.”

  “Oh? What is that?”

  “We’ve delayed bringing up D’Amato’s body. D’Amato was in the landing party with us, but he was killed by the defense computer our first day on the station.” McCoy felt his throat tighten.

  “Why do you need to bring his body to the ship?” Luz asked.

  “So we can place it in stasis until it can be returned to his family.”

  “Returned . . .” Luz said with a faintly horrified expression.

  “Yes, for burial.” Since she still seemed confused, McCoy asked, “What do you do with your people who die?”

  “The body is disintegrated. It’s of no use once they’re dead.”

  “Luz!” Commander Tasm was standing right behind him. McCoy hadn’t heard her approach. “Come, we are departing.”

  “So soon?” McCoy automatically asked.

  Tasm stared at Luz as if silently commanding her to move. Luz seemed flustered, joining the other Kalandans after bidding McCoy a hurried good night.