Authors: Alan Dean Foster
"Neither of which is an especially appealing alternative," Kirk commented distastefully.
"I concur, Captain. With your permission, therefore, I should like to initiate what is known in human vernacular as a decoy action."
"Decoy?" McCoy echoed. "What are we going to do—have the ship's nonmetallic fabricators make up an artificial jawanda?"
"No, Doctor. I doubt that a visual simulacrum would have any effect. These creatures obviously detect one another by means of their emissions. Sight would be a superfluous sense in the void."
"Go ahead, Mr. Spock," Kirk urged. "Whatever you have in mind can't worsen our situation."
"I hope it can better it, Captain." He faced Communications. "Lieutenant Uhura, have you a precise record of the pattern of the captured jawanda's output?"
"Many, Mr. Spock. Its broadcast has remained consistent, and I've had more than enough time to examine its wave generation in depth."
"How complex is the pattern?" Kirk began to have an inkling of his first officer's plan.
"Not very . . . Oh, I understand. I don't see why our equipment couldn't generate a similar signal, Mr. Spock."
It didn't take long for an emergency engineering and tech crew to ready one of the cruiser's shuttlecraft for a highspeed deep-space run. Lieutenant M'ress supervised the modification of the shuttle's communications equipment, which involved installation of components which would permit the tiny craft to channel far more power than normal into its communications instrumentation.
The hasty alterations completed, the shuttlecraft hangar was cleared and the remotely guided craft launched away at its maximum acceleration. There followed a period of anxious waiting for the shuttle to reach a decent distance from the
Enterprise
. All the while, the source of new radiation drew nearer and nearer.
"Time enough," Spock announced, looking up from his readouts. "Begin broadcasting immediately, Lieutenant Uhura." As she acknowledged, Spock faced the command chair.
"Utilizing the full broadcast power of the
Enterprise
's communications equipment, Captain, as rebroadcast out into space through the shuttlecraft's modified instruments, we should be able to produce considerably more noise than our captive does. Hopefully, the pursuing jawanda will consider the shuttlecraft's broadcast as the distress call of a second one of its kind. We are hoping that it will opt to aid the louder of the two calls."
Spock's logic, as always, seemed sound. Uhura adjusted her controls, and soon a second jawanda cry for help was filling space, one twice as powerful as the first.
"Captain?"
Kirk looked toward the navigator. "What is it, Mr. Arex?"
"I believe the second creature is changing its course. Indications point to—"
A rhythmic screech drowned him out. Hastily Uhura adjusted her instrumentation once again, and the volume dropped.
"What happened, Lieutenant?"
Uhura studied her gauges and sensor feedbacks. "Apparently our captive has increased the strength of its own radiations, sir. The level is considerably above what we are rebroadcasting through the shuttlecraft."
"Second object shifting direction again, Captain," the soft-spoken Edoan announced. "It is once again following—and it appears to have increased its speed."
Kirk wondered if they could fool their still unknowable pursuer another time, wondered if it felt anger at deception or was simply continuing to follow the strongest signal.
"Increase broadcast power, Lieutenant," Spock directed her.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Spock." Uhura threw him a look of helplessness. "We're broadcasting at maximum strength now. In fact, we can hold this level only another twenty minutes before components begin to melt."
"That won't be necessary, Uhura," Kirk told her. "Maintain power, though. Mr. Sulu, vary the course of the shuttlecraft—random pattern, simulate erratic behavior. Let's see if the second jawanda reacts to that."
"Course still unchanged, sir," Arex reported five minutes later. "Still in pursuit."
Kirk sighed and faced the science station. "It was a good idea, Spock—only it didn't quite work. If we could put more power into our decoy broadcast . . ." He shook his head slowly.
Spock's head tilted at the odd angle Kirk had come to recognize often these past weeks. "Before abandoning the idea, the Lactrans wish to make an attempt of their own." He looked around. "And they want your approval before they do so . . . Doctor."
"Me?" McCoy was taken aback. "Why mine?"
"Because what they wish to try involves a certain amount of discomfort for every member of the crew."
McCoy turned pensive and finally said, " 'Discomfort' is a mild word. Do they think whatever they have in mind could be dangerous?"
A pause while Spock relayed: "They do not think so, Doctor, but admit that they cannot be sure. It is a new thought of theirs, something never before tried, because the opportunity to do so with minds like ours has not previously existed."
Kirk wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Still, he had to consider the enigmatic threat closing on them every second.
"Bones?"
McCoy looked askance at Kirk. "This is crazy, Jim. How can I estimate the danger when I have no idea what they're going to try?" He turned to Spock again. "You're sure you've got your 'conceptualizations' straight, Spock? They did say 'discomfort' and not 'disablement'?"
"Quite sure, Doctor."
McCoy shrugged. "Then I suppose I can't object."
"All right, Spock," Kirk said warily, "tell them go ahead." He activated the general intercom and explained to the crew as well as he was able what was about to happen. He clicked off finally. "Tell them also that the second we receive any indication that anyone is being seriously affected, they'll have to stop whatever they're doing."
"They understand and agree, Captain," the first officer informed him instantly.
Silence followed. Kirk sat tensely in his chair, waiting for something to happen. When minutes passed and nothing did, an impatient, nervous McCoy asked, "When are they going to begin, Spock? If they don't hurry up . . ."
"They already have, Doctor. They are proceeding slowly, so as to be certain they do not hurt anyone—including themselves. Don't you feel it?"
"Feel what, Spock? I don't . . ." Something was whispering inside his head. Irritated, he tried to shake it off, but, like a persistent mosquito, it refused to go away. Instead, it intensified slightly, still irritating but not quite painful. The internal humming became a headache, then a throbbing behind his eyes, relentless and unresolved. He started to speak to Spock, but decided not to when he saw that the first officer was sitting rigidly at attention. The more intensively McCoy tried to analyze the sensation, the more the ache increased.
"Captain," Uhura groaned, holding both hands to her temples, "how much longer does this go on? I can't stand it and monitor the sensors as well."
" 'Discomfort' was the right term, Spock," the captain admitted, wincing. "It's not quite as bad as a migraine—but I hope we're not supposed to endure it too much longer. What are they doing?"
Spock's reply came slowly, since he was speaking under the dual stress of translating and this new mental strain. "They say it will grow no worse. As to the activity itself, the proposal occurred to them when it became clear how limited was the broadcast capability of the
Enterprise
. They are surprised that we did not recognize the presence on board of several hundred additional generators of modulated electrical impulses. The mind of every crew member is such a transmitter.
"It is an ability of all Lactrans to serve as a focusing point for such energies, much as a magnifying lens concentrates sunlight. They are presently utilizing the generative capacity of every mind on board to beam a simulacrum of the jawanda's distress call to the same point in space as the shuttlecraft. The combination of the shuttle's own broadcast and this mental projection may be strong enough to—"
Arex, who alone of the bridge complement seemed relatively unaffected by the Lactrans' activities, made both aliens and science officer into seers: "Captain—our pursuers are changing course once again. They are definitely inclining toward the retreating shuttlecraft, by a significant number of degrees."
Kirk's response struggled through the pounding in his brain. "Lieutenant Uhura, what reaction from our captive?"
"No . . . change, sir," she replied, her expression contorted from the effort of interpreting her readouts. "It's maintaining the same level of broadcast intensity. Maybe it's reached its limits."
"Still continuing on a divergent course, sir," Arex reported. "They are definitely headed away from us now and are beginning to fall behind."
"Thank you, Mr. Arex. Continue close sensor scan on—" He broke off, rehearing the navigator's recent words. "A moment ago you said 'pursuers,' Lieutenant. There are more than one?"
"It appears likely, Captain. I am tracking three to four sources sufficiently far apart to preclude any other explanation. I thought at first that the one very large creature might be generating signals from various regions of its body, but it seems now that the distance between sources is too great. All, however, are angling toward the shuttlecraft."
Kirk wondered if the relief was visible in his expression. To have one of the monsters closing on them was frightening enough. Three or four . . . "Mr. Sulu, how long before we reach the gravity well of a strong sun?"
There was no formal "border" to the home galaxy, of course. Distances between suns were so unimaginably vast that the term was more suggestive than descriptive. But, compared to the reach of intergalactic space, the gravityless habitat of the jawanda, the region they were about to enter was rich in stars and jawanda-pinioning gravity.
"Twenty-two minutes ship time, Captain," the helmsman finally responded. Kirk's anxiety lightened a little at that encouraging report.
"Keep a close scan on our decoyed pursuit, Mr. Arex. Let me know the instant they show any sign of changing course again. Mr. Spock, can the Lactrans sustain their broadcast for the requisite time remaining?"
"They reply that they will have to, Captain."
Kirk nodded understandingly, his gaze shifting back to the long-range scanner view now on the main screen. It showed only dark, empty space aft of the imprisoned jawanda. For another twenty minutes it had to stay that way.
They crept along at warp-three, Kirk chafing at the restrictions of the Boquian mechanism which forced them to travel at far below normal cruising speed. As the Lactrans had promised, the throbbing grew no worse, but neither did it decrease.
Glancing around the bridge, he saw that Uhura, Sulu, Arex, and even Spock were beginning to show signs of real strain. He heard his own discomfort reflected in the concern in McCoy's voice. The doctor walked over, massaging his temples with slow circular hand motions.
"Jim, even a headache can produce damage if it's allowed to continue untreated. I can't prescribe treatment for something like this."
Kirk checked the official chronometer set in one arm of his chair. "A few minutes more, Bones. We can survive a few minutes more."
Then they would enter the vicinity of NGC 7332. An unremarkable M3 star, hitherto unvisited by anything more complex than a Federation long-range mapping drone. But the cold orange-red giant was a nearing haven for the
Enterprise
, a ten-million-kilometer-wide beacon whose gravity was now akin to the fire with which primitive man had frightened off pursuit by hulking furry carnivore.
He berated himself for falling into the trap McCoy so often entangled himself in, ascribing familiar characteristics to the unfamiliar—in this case the jawanda. That inexplicably efficient inhabitant of deep space was neither furry nor carnivorous.
A shout came from the normally placid navigator's station.
"What is it, Mr. Arex?" he asked quickly. "Have the signal sources changed course again?"
"No, sir." Something in the Edoan's voice sent a tremor along Kirk's nerves. "I have detected a new source of radio emissions. It is larger . . . than all the others combined."
"Bearing?"
"Directly for us, sir . . . warp . . . warp-
seven!
"
"Time to gravitational tangency, Mr. Sulu?"
"Three minutes twenty seconds remaining, Captain," the helmsman shot back.
"The new source is far off, Captain. We should just slip into the safe zone before it reaches us."
"Recalculate for precision," Kirk ordered, thinking in astonishment that that was one phrase he never had expected to direct to his first officer.
"Inconclusive, Captain," Spock replied immediately. "Distance undeterminable at this time."
"Source accelerating!" Arex gasped in disbelief. "Nearing warp-eight!"
"Less than two minutes to go!" shouted Sulu. "Plotting minimum possible orbital radii to maximize gravity effect."
Still nothing on the rear scanners. Where was the apparition? "Emergency magnification on long-range sensors, Mr. Sulu," he directed the helmsman.
Sulu acknowledged, and once more the retreating emptiness jumped perceptibly—to show only a narrower view of nothingness.
"Sixty seconds, Captain."
"Warp-nine, sir," the Edoan said dazedly. "Moving up to warp-ten."
Whatever was after them was now traveling faster than any Federation vessel in existence. It must be converting energy at an incredible rate.
Equally unbelievably, Kirk suddenly felt better than he had in some time. Then he realized that the throbbing in his skull had vanished.
"The Lactrans are aware that their ruse is not discouraging this new, nearer threat, Captain. They see no reason for continuing their broadcast, especially since one of them is verging on unconsciousness and they feel we may soon require our full abilities."
Kirk had time to feel ashamed. While he'd been suffering along with everyone else during the amplified mental broadcast, he'd neglected to consider what toll it might be taking on the amplifiers—the Lactrans themselves.
"Fifteen seconds, sir." Sulu was counting down. "Eleven, ten, nine . . ."