Worlds in Collision (72 page)

Kirk spoke gently but with concern. “Dr. Richter, what I don't understand is that if you were so set on circumventing the Prime Directive, why did you react so strongly when you thought there might be a chance that the
Enterprise
could be sighted by the Talin astronauts?”

Richter didn't look up. “If you, or the FCO, had done anything to break the Prime Directive, then Starfleet would have shut us down and sealed the system. But if those other aliens had been revealed, or the Talin had discovered us by their own efforts, then the whole planet would be wide open.” He raised his head to look at Kirk. “Instantly. No wasted time.”

Hammersmith studied the desktop for a few moments. “Dr. Richter, sir, do you understand that by not cooperating with Starfleet's First Contact Office, and by not following the provisions of the Prime Directive, that you might have contributed to the disaster that befell Talin IV?”

“I didn't want that,” Richter said in a strangled voice.

“No one ever does, Doctor. That's why we have the Prime Directive. So we won't be in a hurry. So we won't rush in blindly when there are entire worlds at stake.”

“Too little time,” Richter whispered.

“For you and me,” Hammersmith said, “perhaps. But not for the Federation, Dr. Richter. The Federation can afford to be patient. We're going to be here for a long, long time.”

 

Spock waited with Kirk and Hammersmith outside the director's complex as McCoy treated the exhausted Richter.

“What happens now?” Kirk asked grimly.

Hammersmith was equally concerned. “I don't know, Kirk. With what Richter said in there, and Wilforth's admission that he thought Richter might be hiding something but didn't want to put pressure on the man…it's a mess. Starfleet's going to have to launch a brand-new inquiry. It's going to take years to sort out…” He shook his head. “I just don't know.”

But Kirk wouldn't accept that. “What's to sort out? There were other aliens interfering with Talin IV's normal development so they could grow mutated algae—or whatever it is—in the oceans. That makes it an open-and-shut case.”

Hammersmith glared at Kirk. “Don't tell me what's open and shut. I understand how you feel, Kirk. You lost your command. Maybe it was your fault, maybe it wasn't, but that's not the only consideration here.”

“But it is! It all comes down to the Prime Directive. And with the presence of the other aliens—the Prime Directive does not apply.”

“What other aliens, Kirk? You heard Richter in there. He
suspected
their presence. That's all. Suspected.”

“What about the images from Talin?” Kirk asked.

“What about them? They're computer data from a devastated world. Those disks passed through an FCO facility where a chief scientist admits he was trying to subvert the Prime Directive. Those data could have been manipulated a thousand different ways. It will take years for Starfleet experts to authenticate them.
If
they are legitimate. There's nothing else that can be done.”

Kirk was speechless.

Spock wasn't. “Excuse me, Vice Admiral, but I believe you are mistaken. There is another option open to us which might settle this situation once and for all.”

“What, Mr. Spock?”

But Kirk saw it instantly. “Find the aliens who were interfering with Talin.”

Hammersmith spread his arms. “Be my guest. If they're real, they've only been flying around in front of the FCO for the past eight years without anyone there noticing them. Care to guess how many years it's going to take you?”

“It will take approximately three hours,” Spock said.

Hammersmith and Kirk stared at him.

Spock returned their stares with a quizzical expression. “I know where they are,” he said.

 

In another office, Spock switched on the desk display and swung the screen around so Kirk and Hammersmith could see it. Then he called up input channel forty-five. A graphic representation of Talin IV and its moon appeared.

“A standard orbital map,” Hammersmith said. “What does this prove?”

“By itself, nothing,” Spock agreed. “However, I shall use it to plot additional information.” He pressed a control on the desk computer. A small red triangle flashed on the picture of Talin IV.

“Is that a military base like the other ones you were showing us?” Hammersmith asked.

“No,” Kirk said. “I know those coordinates. That's the site of the missile silo where the warhead exploded.”

“Exactly,” Spock said. He pressed another control. A small blue dot appeared in fixed orbit over Talin.

“That's a geostationary orbit,” Kirk explained. “It's one of the sensor satellites we deployed.”

“Correct, Captain.”

Kirk put his hands on the desk to lean closer to the display. “Just a minute. Is that sensor satellite number five?”

Spock stood back. He had no need to explain anything more to Kirk.

“What's important about satellite five?” Hammersmith asked.

Kirk adjusted the controls so that the display rotated the image of Talin IV. “Satellite five malfunctioned. All its transtator circuitry was wiped clean.”

“That's impossible, isn't it?” Hammersmith asked. “I mean, for an FCO sensor satellite? They're armored.”

“It
was
right overhead,” Kirk said excitedly.

“What is?” Hammersmith asked.

“That's got to be it!” Kirk adjusted the controls again. “Look here. The satellite was deployed almost exactly over the area of the missile silo installation. Whatever kind of signal went down to the silo passed directly through the satellite and wiped out its memory.”

Hammersmith didn't follow Kirk's reasoning. “A detonation signal was transmitted from space?”

“No,” Kirk said. “The warhead blew up long after the satellite was crippled. The signal that wiped the satellite must have realigned the missile warhead's circuitry so it would go off as soon as the Talin tried to disarm it. It must have been something similar to what Scotty used on the Talin's lunar warheads.” He snapped his fingers. “Spock! If a signal of that strength wasn't focused, but was allowed to spread throughout the entire system…”

Spock nodded. “It would effectively block virtually all subspace transmissions, which could explain the
Enterprise'
s failure to receive Outpost 47's emergency messages.”

“But where did the signal come from?” Hammersmith protested.

Kirk stood back from the desk as he watched the display draw in the final details of the diagram Spock had started. “It came from the most logical place of all, correct, Mr. Spock?”

“Exactly, Captain.”

On the display, the computer showed the continuation of a straightline transmission beam that reached from the missile silo, through sensor satellite five, and from there directly to the perfect base for observing Talin IV—its moon.

The lunar dust of Talin's moon drifted up in a small eddy, disturbed by the vortex of transporter energy which swirled above it. Seconds later, the dust of that moon was marked by Kirk's footsteps.

Kirk peered through the faceplate of his environmental suit at what waited for him on the brightly lit lunar landscape. Spock's plotting had been precise, and it had taken the science officer only one hour to make his calculations instead of the three he had originally estimated.

“Kirk to
Exeter.”
His voice sounded odd in the closed-in space of the helmet he wore. “The coordinates are perfect.”

He heard the
Exeter'
s transporter technician reply. “Energizing.”

Three more columns of sparkling light appeared. They coalesced into Spock, McCoy, and Uhura.

Kirk heard Uhura gasp in astonishment.

Spock immediately held up a vacuum-armored tricorder. “Fascinating.”

McCoy checked his own scanners and grunted in disbelief. Then his voice crackled over the helmet speaker. “Forget ‘fascinating,' Spock. How about downright impossible?”

On the barren rocks and soil of Talin's moon, beneath the blazing radiation of unfiltered sunlight and completely exposed to the hard vacuum of space, there was life.

Kirk moved forward with long, low-gravity strides to meet it.

What he approached was obviously a base of sorts. Parts of it were alien. Parts of it were understandable. Kirk could see about twenty of the sleek, pinch-waisted shuttles hidden in the shadows of a rocky overhang. Each shuttle was about ten meters long—though no two were exactly the same, and while some were parked neatly side by side, others were stacked on top of each other like a pile of kindling. The overhang had protected them from direct overhead observation by the Talin and the FCO, though Kirk couldn't understand why the rest of the base had not been detected by the FCO's long-range scans—especially the aliens. There were hundreds of them.

The aliens' bodies reminded Kirk of wasps, but with only two segments, mottled with black and glistening silver. Their basic shapes were also similar to the shuttles', though the creatures were only between one and two meters in length. They were supported and moved across the lunar soil by two sets of four spindly silver legs each. One set sprang from their forward segment, the other set from their hind segment, and their bodies were slung beneath their highest leg joints like a spider's.

The aliens' legs ended in wide flattened pads which kept them from sinking into the loose lunar soil. Kirk noticed that some of the creatures moved slowly around their base, while others scuttled back and forth faster than a human could run, sometimes springing ten meters in a single jump.

Cautiously, Kirk edged closer to the creatures as they swarmed around their shuttles and the large silver and black domes that were scattered nearby. So far, they had not acted as if they had detected him or the others, but he kept his vacuum phaser drawn and ready. He reminded himself that these creatures had destroyed a world.

Kirk stopped ten meters from the nearest dome—it looked as if metallic lava had bubbled out of the ground and frozen solid. The creatures crawled over it and around it, their forward legs tapping soundlessly all over its surface while their hind legs propelled them. From the corner of his faceplate, Kirk saw the rest of his landing party draw nearer to his position.

“They're not in any sort of pressure suits, are they, Spock?” Kirk asked.

“Indeed not,” Spock answered. “Their exterior carapaces seem impervious to the vacuum and the radiation of space.”

“Are they machines?” Uhura asked. Kirk saw her working with a large, flat computer board with enlarged controls for use by personnel in protective gear.

“That's the incredible part,” McCoy answered, checking his medical scanners. “They've got organic parts inside. There are pressurized pockets in them but don't ask me how. And free water. A high metabolism rate. I wouldn't be surprised if they're living off the radiation from the sun somehow.”

Kirk was fascinated by the aliens' thin legs. They seemed to be made of solid metal. “Are they some kind of artificial construct, Spock? Organics built into a mechanical shell?”

“I see no indication of anything artificial in their structure, Captain. I believe that these are living creatures, either genetically engineered or independently evolved to live in hard vacuum.”

“Sir,” Uhura interrupted. “I am picking up a great deal of low-level radio static. And it seems to be coming from these…things.”

“Try to localize it, Uhura.” Kirk watched as one of the creatures scurried only two meters from him without slowing. It carried a chunk of lunar rock. “Any idea what kind of sensory organs they might have, Spock?”

“None whatsoever, Captain. I am continuing with my readings.”

A second alien followed the path made by the first, also carrying lunar material. Then a third carrier went by. Kirk stepped forward into the pockmarked trail left by their footpads. A fourth came along and bumped into Kirk, almost knocking him over. Kirk was shaken by the unexpected force of the creature's impact, but he stayed upright.

“Be careful, Captain. Their legs obviously have great strength,” Spock warned.

Kirk remained motionless as the alien that had collided with him dropped the rock it carried and raised itself on its hind legs until its segments were at Kirk's waist level. Its forward segment angled upward and its second set of legs waved out like insect feelers until they made contact with him.

Kirk heard Spock's urgent message. “Spock to
Exeter.
Lock transporter on the captain and prepare for emergency beam-out on my signal.”

“It's all right, Spock,” Kirk said. He kept completely still as the creature's legs tapped lightly all over him, following the contours of his silver environmental suit and the paths of the red and blue life-support tubes. “Their forward legs are their sensory organs. It's including me in its interior map of its surroundings.”

The creature finished tracing Kirk, then dropped back down to its original stance, picked up its rock, and diverted around him. Relieved, Kirk placed his phaser on its adhesion patch at the side of his suit.

“How are your pressure readings, Captain? Did the creature create any punctures?” Spock asked.

Kirk glanced down at the indicator lights built into his helmet. “All readings are green, Spock. You can cancel the transpor—”

Another creature came charging toward him. Kirk braced himself for impact. But the creature smoothly swerved just as the first one had done after its examination of Kirk.

“Fascinating,” Spock said. “Apparently they can communicate through the vacuum.”

Kirk's next idea was impossible, but then so were the creatures. “Uhura, is there any chance that the creatures are communicating by radio transmissions?”

“I—uh, why not? I'll try to link up with one.” Uhura bounded over to where two of the creatures were stroking a small silverish bubble that appeared to have sprouted from the ground. One was exuding a dull black paste from an opening in its forward segment and then rubbing the substance against the bubble. Nearby, another creature appeared to be actually consuming rocks which had been deliberately stacked near it. Kirk wondered if he were watching the creatures process building materials.

Kirk hopped back to Spock and McCoy. “Any idea what those bubbles are?” he asked. “Or what they're made from?”

“They are composed of the same substance as the creatures' carapaces, and the coverings of the shuttles,” Spock added. “Their composition is also virtually identical to that of the surrounding rocks and soils.” Spock glanced down at his tricorder. “Captain, I believe that we must be looking at different versions of the same life-form. Or at the very least, different species who share the same evolutionary past.”

“Are you saying the
shuttles
are alive?”

Spock pointed his tricorder in the direction of the shuttles. “They appear to be dormant in the shadow of the overhang, but their shape and coloration are suggestive of the smaller creatures.”

“Jim, I'm picking up something odd from one of the bubbles,” McCoy suddenly said. “That one over there.”

McCoy took two long strides to land beside a bubble almost five meters in circumference. Its surface was like the creatures', mottled silver and black, shining in some areas, dull in others.

“Bones, do you think they could be egg casings?” Kirk asked. “Like a horta's?”

“That's what I thought at first, too,” McCoy said. His gloved fingers worked clumsily at the scanner he held to the bubble. “I
am
getting life readings from it, but they're different from the ones I took from the creatures themselves.”

“Odd,” Spock confirmed, reading from his own tricorder. “There appears to be a pressurized atmosphere inside. Well insulated, and with a quantity of liquid water.”

“But what
kind
of life-form's in there?” Kirk asked.

“Low-level plant analogue, Captain.”

“Plant life?” Kirk repeated. “You're sure there's nothing higher?”

“Most certain,” Spock confirmed.

Kirk pulled his phaser from the side of his suit, twisted the intensity setting on it, and fired at the bubble before either Spock or McCoy could say anything to change his mind.

A long stream of white vapor sprayed up from the small hole the phaser beam made. The vapor instantly changed to solid crystals and for a few moments it appeared to snow around the bubble. As the crystals sublimated in the vacuum, the area around the bubble slowly cleared again. The only difference now was that a thick sludge oozed from the hole, freezing as it fell to the ground in fist-size chunks. It glittered with a white gloss of fine frost, but the color of the sludge was apparent: purple.

“It's algae, isn't it?” Kirk said. “The same organism that's taken over the oceans of Talin IV.”

Spock held his tricorder to the mass of thick, freezing material that pushed through the bubble's skin. “You are correct, Captain. But how did you decide this? It is not an obvious conclusion.”

McCoy didn't agree. “Why not, Spock? The creatures are probably growing their food down there.”

“Doctor McCoy, as both our readings show, these creatures do not require food. They thrive on hard radiation. The algae cannot sustain them.”

Kirk saw a flurry of movement to the side. A herd of twenty creatures was leaping directly toward the leaking bubble. “Stand back, gentlemen. Looks like the repair crew has arrived.”

The three men jumped away from the bubble just as the creatures swarmed around and over it. They quickly found the hole and cleaned the frozen algae away. Then Kirk saw several creatures, smaller and shinier than the others, who appeared at the edge of the repair team. The larger creatures formed a chain and passed the smaller ones over their bodies until they were deposited at the side of the bubble. The smaller creatures' footpads were twice the size of the larger creatures' pads and when they rubbed them over the hole, the pads began to glow white hot, melting the skin of the bubble to heal the opening.

“I hope you're recording that, Spock,” McCoy said. “Because even seeing it myself I don't believe it.”

“Captain!” It was Uhura calling. Kirk tried to find her silverclad form.

“State your location, Uhura,” he said.

“Near the east side of the overhang, Captain. And you were right, sir—they
are
talking over radio frequencies!”

Uhura had found a large boulder on which to place her computer panel. Nearby, one creature methodically ripped apart a second. The second creature did not try to escape. A small pile of other disassembled creatures was nearby.

Uhura laboriously punched in commands on the panel. “I'm patching through their main channel to our helmet speakers, sir. They seem to be able to generate low-frequency radio waves through an organ in their forward segment. They don't have much range, but the ability is definitely there.”

McCoy stepped over to examine the creature, casting his shadow across it. “How can a being evolve an organ to take advantage of radio?”

Spock answered. “Life constantly adapts to use the features of the environment in which it finds itself, Doctor. Our eyes have evolved to sense electromagnetic radiation of certain frequencies. Radio waves are also electromagnetic waves at other frequencies. It is a predictable development, however unlikely.”

Suddenly Kirk's helmet speaker crackled with a confused flurry of static.

“That's their language?” McCoy asked.

“That's a raw signal,” Uhura explained. “I'm going to tie it through the universal translator.”

“Captain,” Spock began, “since this language is completely alien, it will take the translator several hours to supply equivalent cognates. I suggest we return to the
Exeter
to replenish our consumables.”