Star Trek: The Original Series - 147 - Devil’s Bargain (7 page)

“What are its demands?” asked Kirk.

“Immediate evacuation of the planet in response to the asteroid, absolute separation from the Federation . . . and other items having to do with our peculiar genetics here on Vesbius.”

“Evacuation and separation would seem to be incompatible goals at the moment. The Federation is your best hope,” Spock offered.

“Not in the mind of your typical Exos member, I’m afraid.”

“He speaks the truth,” put in Merling. “It’s a strong movement, perhaps a tenth of the people. It’s the twisted offshoot of a legitimate political faction. Exos concerns
are
represented in the Planetary Council by those who do not believe in their extreme methods. That’s not good enough for the hardcore. We believed we had the threat contained, but evidently not.”

“
I
never thought it was contained,” said Faber. “I knew they were biding their time. But there are so many other things to consider, so much to worry about in the coming days, that frankly even now a terrorist attack is a side issue.” A light blinked on the chancellor’s computer and he excused himself to take the call. Hannah Faber followed Kirk and his companions out into the entrance foyer.

“I must go and assess the damage, Captain,” Hannah said.

Her professionalism in the face of utter chaos impressed the captain.

“Of course,” said Kirk. “We can help. I can have the ship transport you there.”

Hannah turned to Kirk, a look of relief in her eyes. “We don’t have transporters. This is why we rely on the sleds.”

“I have a big ship with a very big power plant. My transporter is at your command.”

“You would do this?”

“Of course, Hannah.”

“Then let’s go,” she said.

“You
will
take your bodyguards, Hannah,” Chancellor Faber said. He motioned to Hox and Ferlein to go and stand beside Hannah.

So that’s who those two goons are,
Kirk thought. Apparently the Exos insurrection was quite dangerous, if it meant supporting a security force for the governmental representatives.

“If she goes they must be beamed with her, Captain.”

“That’s fine,” Kirk said. “But let’s hurry.” Kirk wasted no time calling in the coordinates and having him, Spock, and Hannah transported to the number seven tunnel entrance. Doctor McCoy stayed behind to tend to the wounded at the government complex.

They materialized in the foothills of the mountains. Tunnel seven proved to be the same underground complex they had toured. Before them was a scene of devastation. The enormous door had been blown partially off its hinges. The ceiling had collapsed within. Hanging electrical wires were sparking, adding what light there was to the smoking darkness. Rescue crews were only now arriving, and Hannah began immediately to direct them.

While Kirk watched the young woman take charge, Spock stepped up to him and spoke: “Captain, if this
was
a terrorist attack—and there is every indication that it was—then it would be logical to assume that there may be a secondary strike.”

“Someone may have planted another bomb to go off once the cavalry is here.”

“Precisely,” said Spock.

“Check for whatever the signature of explosive devices might be and I’ll notify the ship to perform a sensor sweep.”

“It could be very difficult to isolate the reading.” Spock worked the controls on his tricorder.

“What do you suppose set off that series of explosions? We felt one over a hundred kilometers away. If they were pre-timed, there would have to be a signal. Do you have anything from just before the explosion on the tricorder’s passive records?”

Spock quickly scanned the device’s memory bank. “I believe I have isolated it, Captain. There was a strong electromagnetic pulse at 694.29 gigahertz.”

“They probably won’t use the same frequency to set off a secondary device, but bomb makers frequently rely on the same methods.”

“It stands to reason that a broad-spectrum pulse of sufficient strength would set off any remaining devices. An even stronger electromagnetic pulse would burn the activating circuit out. My tricorder is not powerful enough to achieve this aim, however.”

“No,” said Kirk, “but the
Enterprise
is.” He flipped open his communicator. “Scotty, I have an unusual request.” He then relayed the details to his chief engineer. “Can you do it?”

“Easy as a good scotch going down,”
replied Scotty.
“I can isolate it to as narrow or wide an area as you want.”

“Excellent. Stand by, Scotty.” Kirk closed the communicator and went to find Hannah. She was about to lead the first search party into the partially collapsed structure.

“Wait,” Kirk said. “We believe this could be a
setup.” He explained his reasoning, and Hannah nodded.

“I have to reluctantly concur,” she replied, “but that changes nothing. We have to go in there and try to pull out any survivors.”

“I understand,” Kirk said. “Let us try to disable any remaining bombs. We believe that we may be able to put them out of commission entirely with a strong enough pulse. The
Enterprise
will be able to lay down a directed EMP blast like nothing this planet has ever experienced before. Will you ask your people to stand clear of the shelter for a little longer?”

“Yes, Captain.”

Hannah turned.

“Fire Chief Manuel,” she called out to a woman Kirk assumed was one of the fire-suppression and EMT workers.

“Ma’am?”

“Halt entry into the tunnel for—” Hannah turned to Kirk.

“Give me one minute.”

“Two minutes. No one is to enter until my signal.”

The fire chief was obviously unsure why her boss was ordering inaction, but she quickly obeyed orders and relayed the stop command over her comm unit.

Hannah turned to Kirk. “Captain.”

Kirk opened his communicator. “All right, Scotty. Now!” he said.

Within seconds, the silent and invisible pulse was delivered. Nothing changed.

“Well?” said Hannah.

“If it worked, then you’re safe. If it didn’t . . . I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Fair enough,” Hannah replied. “Chief Manuel, all clear! Let’s move!”

The day became a fever dream of rock dust and the acrid smell of burning insulation and ductwork. Kirk and Spock teamed with Hannah to conduct searches using Spock’s tricorder to read for life signs. The
Enterprise’
s sensors could not penetrate to the depth of the tunnels, but the tricorder was good to a distance of about five hundred kilometers in any direction. It proved invaluable.

Kirk’s most intense memory of the day was when he and Hannah attempted to free a young man trapped beneath a girder weighed down by a rock collapse. The boy was about eighteen years of age. He’d been in the tunnel as the setup man for the main crew, laying out the tools and material that the workers would need when they came to work after a shift change and generally getting everything tidied up in the short break between shifts. Work in the tunnel was ongoing at this point, so the fact that the bombs had gone off at a shift change indicated that the Exos were not attempting to cause casualties so much as to bring the whole complex down and prevent it from being completed.

The young man, Balan, was completely trapped under the girder, and there was no way he was going to get out without the use of heavy equipment. Spock moved in with his Vulcan strength and, with the aid of Hanna’s bodyguards Hox and Ferlein’s muscular help, was able to lift the girder slightly—but not enough to free the young man. The movement did reveal the sticking point, which was the beam that had shattered Balan’s knee. In the brief glimpse, it appeared he was bleeding from a nicked vessel as well, and he would not survive for long if he remained pinned in the debris.

“I’m really scared,” Balan said to Hannah. She knelt down beside him and caressed his head. “I was the replacement, you know. My parents had a son who didn’t make it through the die off. Then they kept trying after the modifications were made, but they never could have the boy. I have four sisters. I used to really hate having all that girl energy around, but I’m going to miss it now.”

Hannah smiled as best she could. “You’ll see them again, don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here,” she said.

It was Spock who suggested the only solution, and Kirk quickly agreed.

“We’re going to have to take off your leg, Balan,” said Kirk. “You may be able to have it regenerated. Are you ready?”

Balan bit his lip but nodded. He looked up at
Hannah. “You’ll be here with me, won’t you, Ms. Faber?”

“Yes, of course I will, Balan,” Hannah replied.

Kirk took out his phaser and set it on a narrow beam. He placed it extremely close to the leg he was going to cut into and lined up for the incision. Spock and Hannah’s bodyguards then lifted the girder just enough so that Kirk could cut farther down the leg, taking off less than he might have otherwise, and leaving more of the leg that would not need regeneration treatment. Limb regeneration could take over two years, and the more of the original there was, the sooner that could be accomplished.

Kirk fired the phaser and moved it in a clean motion downward, neatly severing the leg and cauterizing it at the same time. Hannah pulled the young man clear, and Spock was finally able to let go of the girder. Kirk noticed that he was trembling with the effort toward the end.

They evacuated Balan within an antigrav stretcher—and then it was time to return to the tunnels and start the process all over again. The search continued hour after hour. Hannah never seemed to tire, and seeing her gave Kirk hope and the energy to carry on.

•   •   •

It was hours before the search parties discovered the nest of one hundred large fertilizer bombs
secreted within the tunnel. The grouping was wired to a transponder that had been fried by the
Enterprise
EMP. A similar group of secondary bombs was found in the other stricken shelter.

Over two hundred people had been killed in both tunnels, with scores injured. It was an enormous blow to a colony with such a small population.

The Exos terrorists played very rough.

Five

After evacuating the wounded from the tunnels, the
Enterprise
transporter room was able to beam several of them to treatment facilities on planet—a quick diversion that probably saved their lives. The
Enterprise
sickbay also served as an outpatient facility where minor injuries could be handled by the medical staff. McCoy remained on the planet. There, the Vesbian military adjunct, Major Merling, secured the government complex and located the bomb site. It had been a smaller bomb than the one that took down the shelters, and it had clearly been meant more as a warning.

The government complex bomb had been planted under the grand ballroom of the celebration auditorium, and that structure, which had held such merriment the night before, was now a pile of rubble. There had still been a few of the serving staff inside attending to the aftermath of the dance. Five of them lost their lives, with the other nine present receiving injuries, some life threatening. McCoy, first on the scene, had treated six of the injured and
saved at least two lives, according to reports. The doctor remained tight-lipped about it. He had, apparently, had to reposition a man’s guts within his body cavity and then quickly sterilize and close the blasted stomach wound to prevent a death by sepsis. It took hours of monitoring before McCoy was satisfied the victim was out of danger.

By evening, Kirk wearily returned to his quarters expecting to fall onto his bed and asleep. However, Spock, who had labored as tirelessly as Kirk, was alert but thoughtful. He linked his tricorder with his communicator in order to use the ship’s computer. With this, he began to run computations.

Kirk watched his first officer for a while. In a nearby alcove, McCoy was noticeably snoring.

“What’s going on, Spock? Have you got an idea?”

“More of a notion, Captain,” Spock replied. “While we were digging through the collapsed material to rescue that mining engineer with the head wound, I recalled another moment you and I spent in such close quarters underground.”

“Well, spit it out, Spock,” Kirk said. He sat down beside his first officer. “What are you thinking?”

“The asteroid headed toward this planet is too large to be destroyed by conventional means, and were we to succeed in breaking it apart, that would merely create a shotgun blast to the planet rather than a rifle bullet.”

“Agreed.”

“But we do have the technical ability to move smaller pieces of matter with the
Enterprise
’s tractor beams and deflectors. If those pieces were cut to precise sizes, that is. Anything too small would be impossible upon which to achieve a lock. As you know, the tractors cannot lock on to space dust. As a matter of fact, this inability is a very useful quality, in most instances—”

“Spock, I understand the technical capabilities of our tractor beam.”

“Captain, I was merely pointing out—”

“Spock, what are you getting at?”

“In all our travels, we have encountered a great many aliens and alien civilizations. These have been capable of many wonders. But there is one species whose rock-cutting and digging abilities are unrivaled.”

Kirk felt a smile spreading across his face. “You wouldn’t be talking about the Horta?”

“That is exactly what—or
whom
—I am talking about,” Spock replied. “If you will recall our encounter with the creature, it was a peaceful, highly developed individual.”

“The All Mother, the tender of those eggs, you mean.”

“Yes, Captain. A most logical race.”

“No doubt, Mister Spock,” Kirk said. “But I still don’t understand how—”

“During our encounter with the wounded Horta, I was able to achieve a mind meld with the creature. As you recall, this allowed us to communicate with it—her, as it turns out—and discover why she was attacking miners in the shafts of Janus VI.”

“The silicon nodules they were discarding were eggs,” said Kirk. “She was protecting her babies.”