Authors: Alan Dean Foster
Spock concluded his preliminary sensor study of the new emissions and looked up thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is merely another form of energy release, Captain, an instinctive reaction to the unusual situation in which it presently finds itself, akin in spirit if not function to the defensive charges it attacked us with before.
"At first I suspected that the noise might merely be the normal energy discharge of the creature, its intensity the result of all the radiation it had absorbed from the
Enterprise
. Now that I have heard it, I begin to doubt this explanation. My uncertainties are compounded by Lieutenant Uhura's insistence that these discharges are of a type previously not detected." She nodded ready confirmation. "Beyond the normal excretion of surplus energy, I cannot begin to imagine what function these violent pulsations have—Wait . . . wait . . ."
A clumsy gray shape squeezed out of the turbolift onto the bridge. The young Lactran was already in close communication with Spock.
"The youth is relaying concern from Hivar the Toq," the first officer explained thickly. "The Boqus wishes to hear the sound for itself."
Kirk, picturing the eyeless, earless Boquian scientist, wondered if it "heard" in the same fashion as humans, or if the sound waves were absorbed uniformly across its sensitive crystalline surface. The latter was quite likely. The sound conductivity of crystals was known on Earth as far back as the Dark Ages.
"Pipe the broadcast through to the transporter chamber the Boqus is located in, Lieutenant," Kirk directed Uhura.
Her hands again adjusted controls. "Transporter Room locked into circuit, sir," she replied.
Something about the sound must have been familiar to the Boqus, because Spock's relayed response followed immediately on Uhura's announcement.
"Hivar recognizes the sound, Captain. There are recordings of identical vibrations on Boqu, and although they are extremely ancient Hivar insists the duplication here is unmistakable."
"Duplication of what?"
"A jawanda distress call."
That caused Kirk to pause, all right! There was only one possible corollary, but he asked the question anyway. "Distress call? To—others of its own kind?"
Spock turned to face him, though his gaze remained focused on a point halfway between the command chair and the science station. "Exactly, Captain."
Rapidly Kirk performed some crude calculations in his head, then relaxed slightly. Even if his estimations were a little off, there was still no reason to panic. "We could do without visits from our captive's cousins, Spock, but, judging from its initial attack, and taking into account that we'll be prepared this time, our screens ought to be able to handle energy charges from a modest swarm of jawandas. Particularly from jawandas who haven't been sucking up energy from our engines. No, I don't see much reason for concern. We're already traveling at warp-three. Even if the calls are picked up, even if a few of the creatures have an intercept angle on us prior to our reentering the galactic field, they'll have only their natural store of energy to draw upon." He started to rise, intending to return to the transporter room to conclude the examination of the Boqus's console.
"Hivar the Toq begs to differ with you, Captain," countered Spock. "Hivar urges that in the event another of the creatures is contacted, we release our captive and accelerate away as rapidly as possible."
A thoroughly stunned Kirk settled slowly back into his chair. "But . . . why? For what reason? My evaluation—"
"The Lactrans are arguing strongly against such a possible course of action," the first officer continued. "Hivar sidesteps. It insists that such an eventuality is unlikely, but that it must be considered."
"I still don't see why." Kirk frowned.
"The Boqus is embarrassed, Captain. It has withheld information, in the manner of the Lactrans, but claims that in this case it was only to"—the first officer strained, trying to translate alien concepts—"spare us needless worry. Hivar now feels that the worry is needful. The Lactrans could not know, but Hivar explains that if the old records are correct, we have captured an immature jawanda."
McCoy spoke for the first time since Kirk and Spock had returned to the bridge. He had remained unusually silent, standing by the engineering station and listening to the strange moans of their captive. But this latest information moved him to comment.
"You mean that monster is a baby?"
"Equivalent terminology has not existed in reference to jawandas, Doctor, but in the present situation Hivar feels it is appropriate."
"Then how big," McCoy wanted to know—or did he, he wondered—"does an
adult
jawanda grow?"
"No one knows," Spock murmured. There was silence on the bridge.
"Hivar is struggling to recall long-dormant, little-used knowledge, Captain," Spock finally said into the lingering silence. "The estimate of our captive's immaturity is based on such information. The largest jawanda the Boqus were ever forced to drive away was . . . a moment . . ."
The pause was too much for an impatient McCoy, who soon pressed, "Was what, Spock?"
"Please, Doctor," the first officer cautioned calmly. "I am attempting with Hivar's aid to convert ancient Boquian measurements to Federation equivalents." A longer pause; then he announced firmly, "The largest specimen recorded by the ancients was approximately two hundred ten thousand by fifty-two thousand kilometers. That is only an approximation, remember."
Kirk tried to envision a living creature with a surface area five times that of the Earth and gave up. "That's only the largest the Boqus
know
of. I suppose . . ." He hesitated, and the question came out in a whisper. "The possibility exists that there could be larger ones?"
"As a matter of fact," Spock agreed, readily confirming Kirk's worst imaginings, "the planet-bound Boqus theorized from specimens they observed and far-distant radiation they recorded that exceptionally mature jawandas could grow considerably larger."
"How big," the captain queried masochistically, "is 'considerably'?" He was still trying to adjust to the information that the continent-sized energy-eater trailing them was but a midget of its kind.
"Hivar suggests without humor that you use your imagination, Captain. Theoretically, there
is
no upper limit. There are no physiological restraints on a jawanda's growth, and nothing is known of their age. Hivar goes on to say that there is no reason to suppose that, barring a collision with a star, a jawanda could not grow to the size of a sun. Though he reminds us that this is only theory."
"How encouraging," muttered a dazed McCoy.
"Never mind, Spock," declared Kirk suddenly. "I have no desire to tangle with anything even half the size of that old recorded supergiant, whether the Boquian mechanism can shove it around or not. But it will take something that size, which can demonstrate its power, to make us abandon this catch. Because I'm not sure which would be worse—fighting off such an antagonist or starting this hunt all over again, from the beginning." He looked forward.
"Mr. Arex, maintain maximum resolution on all long-range scanners."
"Yes, sir," the navigator replied tersely. "Lieutenant Uhura, I want you to engage your own long-range detectors and initiate a full-spectrum sweep in the region immediately astern, with regular adjustments to scan every second of sky."
"Monitoring wave sweep, sir," she declared several minutes later.
Kirk's thoughts then turned inward, brooding on ominous possibilities as he studied the viewscreen. Five thousand kilometers of thin organism rippled slowly aft. Listening to the steady, powerful bursts of energy which still sounded over the muted speakers, he considered the history of man's efforts to turn amplified ears to the stars. Little had any of those ancient scientists realized, when they'd fought to make sense of the strange pops and crackles and hums, that among that stellar babble might be the cry of a troubled child.
"It will not be long at our present speed, Captain," announced Spock encouragingly, "before we enter the first fringe star-clusters along our return path into the Milky Way. According to the information imparted by the Boqus, this should be enough to discourage any pursuit."
"How can it be so sure?" wondered McCoy. "The risk of permanent imprisonment, or even death, wouldn't be enough to dissuade a lot of human parents from trying to rescue their offspring."
Spock eyed him reprovingly. "You are anthropomorphizing, Doctor. We cannot ascribe even faintly human or Vulcan motivations to these creatures. They lie outside the boundaries of familiar xenobiology. Besides, it is likely that they reproduce asexually, which renders the parent-child relationship absurd."
McCoy stared at the viewscreen. "I only hope you're right, Spock."
Days passed during which the captured jawanda continued to emit regular cries. It showed no sign of weakening. On the contrary, as they drew near the outer fringe of the galaxy, the outbursts intensified slightly.
Listening closely, Kirk sought to identify something recognizable as a cry for help in those dips and squeaks of electromagnetic radiation. He failed, with a consistency that pleased him. The purely electronic wail enabled him to regard the thing behind the ship as an elemental force of nature instead of a living creature which might possibly possess a glimmer of the thoughts and emotions Spock insisted it did not.
"Captain," Uhura announced slowly, "I think I've got something." Amazing, Kirk mused, how much was contained in that single word, "something."
"It's at the extreme end of my scanners," she went on. "It may be nothing at all, but we're still in intergalactic space, and I thought that—"
"Of course," Kirk cut her off impatiently. "You've isolated it?"
"Yes. It's definitely not a stable intergalactic phenomenon. At first I thought it might be a very small radio nebula—it's definitely generating strong radio pulses. But it wanders about too much. I can't tell yet whether it's moving toward us or not, but . . ." She gazed significantly at Kirk.
"Keep monitoring it, Lieutenant," Kirk instructed her. "Mr. Spock, initiate intensive sensor scan along the coordinates being studied by Lieutenant Uhura. Let me know what you turn up."
"Very good, Captain."
"How much longer before we reach a star with sufficient gravity to hold a jawanda?"
Spock checked library information. "At least another three days at our present speed, Captain, possibly four. Naturally, that time would shrink rapidly at warp-four or warp-five."
Kirk spent a few moments ruminating on their options. "Contact the Boqus, Mr. Spock. Inquire if there's
any
chance, however slight, that the six moons could attain a faster speed."
A short wait, and Spock replied, "Hivar says no, Captain. We might as well abandon the creature now to retain control of the mechanism. The Lactrans are again arguing strenuously. They are willing to jeopardize their lives in order to return the jawanda to Lactra."
"That's noble of them," snorted McCoy, "but what about the rest of us who don't care to stick our necks out so they can add that"—and he gestured toward the screen—"electrified tinfoil to their zoo?"
"Easy, Bones," Kirk advised him, "we're not at that point yet. It may turn out to be just a false alarm."
The alarm was ringing louder the following day. Whatever was generating those powerful pulsations was doing so at a steadily rising rate.
"Estimated distance to the object, Lieutenant Uhura?"
She checked her readouts. "It's still hard to say, sir. The strength of the emissions, and by inference the distance separating us, could vary greatly depending on the size of the creature."
A sinking feeling ran through him. "You're convinced the signals are emanating from another jawanda, then?"
She hesitated. "The differences in the type of pulsations are significant, sir, but the frequencies are identical. Say better than fifty-fifty that it's another."
"An inaccurate observation, Lieutenant," Spock commented mildly. He would never cease to be fascinated by the human tendency to offer approximations in place of absolute figures in matters scientific.
"Let it go now, Jim," urged McCoy. "We'll circle far around and find another specimen for the Lactrans."
"Not yet, Bones. This new arrival—if that's what it turns out to be—may only be curious. Maybe it's not coming in response to the other's cries. We've come too far and worked too hard to give up easily. Remember our obligation to the Lactrans."
"Remember our obligation to the ship."
Kirk threw him a sharp look. "I'm fully aware of that, Bones."
McCoy turned away. "Sorry, Jim . . . Forgot myself for a moment."
"Forget it. We're all operating under stress. The possibility of fighting something that could envelop a few Earths is enough to rattle anyone's thoughts."
What was troubling Kirk was not the chance that another jawanda was the source of the new emissions—that already seemed fairly certain. It was the fact that the mysterious generator was continuing to gain on them—without an intercept angle. It was approaching rapidly from almost dead astern.
That meant that at least some jawandas were capable of moving at speeds above warp-three. Given that, there was no reason to suppose that one of the creatures might not be able to exceed warp-eight—the maximum emergency velocity of the
Enterprise
.
If Spock was right and the jawanda was purely a superefficient energy-converting organism, then it should be as incapable of experiencing the desire for vengeance as it was of feeling parental concern. In that case, it didn't really matter how fast certain jawandas could travel.
On the other hand, if Spock was wrong and the creatures were able to feel higher emotions . . . Kirk refused to consider the possibilities. Long before that he would have to make other decisions.
"It is obvious that we have two choices." Spock pontificated from the science station. "We can retreat at top speed toward the safety of stellar gravity, abandoning our capture in the process, and hope this will be sufficient to discourage any pursuit. Or we can continue as we are and hope that the creature closing on us will become disinterested, give up, or prove unable to hamper our movements."