Star Trek - Log 8 (19 page)

"Apparently it has not changed direction, Captain. Either it is convinced we are still in pursuit, or it believes itself no longer threatened."

Distance shortened rapidly. "Reduce speed to warp-two, Mr. Sulu. Let's see if dropping to a velocity below its capabilities affects it."

"Still no change, Captain," reported Spock seconds later. "Coming directly toward us." A pause; then: "Hivar the Toq expresses some concern."

"Thank Hivar for its concern," replied Kirk, too busy now to worry about diplomatic niceties. "Slow to warp-factor one, Mr. Sulu."

"Slowing, Captain. I have visual contact." A quick adjustment and the jawanda appeared again on the viewscreen forward. Only now the sparkling, rippling shape, a living microthin continent, was charging toward them at warp-three.

"It's beginning to slow, Captain," Sulu reported, a touch of anxiety in his voice. "Still coming toward us, though."

"Phasers on low power, Lieutenant."

"Phasers, sir?" the helmsman inquired uncertainly.

"That's right. We're going to try to turn it back toward the six moons of the Boquian mechanism. Fire as soon as it comes within range." If it comes within range, he added silently.

"Creature is slowing . . . warp-two . . . warp-one . . . range still decreasing . . . it's not going to turn or stop in time, sir."

"Fire, Mr. Sulu." Kirk leaned forward and gripped the arms of the command chair tightly. If they killed it, they'd have to begin another search.

"Firing," came the helmsman's even reply. Two dull blue beams jumped across the shrinking gap toward the onrushing monster, struck the ever-twisting surface . . . to no apparent effect.

"No indication of reaction from the jawanda, Captain," Spock informed him.

"Still coming at us, sir." Sulu looked back at the command chair for instructions.

"Increase phaser power to half strength, Mr. Sulu. Fire."

Once more the two beams, this time shining far more brightly in the darkness, crossed the space between ship and jawanda. It reacted this time, slowing even further—but for some reason Kirk felt that the decrease in velocity had nothing to do with the
Enterprise
's attack.

It continued to rush toward them.

"Full power, Mr. Sulu!" he ordered hastily. All that could be seen ahead now was the lightninglike display of color rippling through the jawanda's substance as it transformed and dissipated untold energy with the ease of an earthworm digesting dirt.

This time the two beams which touched the creature were intense enough to blind, had not the ship's battle computer automatically compensated for the anticipated brilliance by suitably adjusting the forward scanners.

Those two beams, striking with the full energy of the
Enterprise
behind them, were capable of piercing the thick hull of any vessel in existence, of reducing mountains to rubble and boiling away small seas. They struck the underside (or perhaps the topside) of the jawanda.

Flexible, incredibly tough cells contracted, reacted where the beams hit. That enormous surface curled like foil in five-hundred-kilometer-wide swirls.

But it did not stop, did not turn aside, and did not slow further.

"We're going to crash, Jim," McCoy murmured fatalistically, his fascinated gaze frozen on the viewscreen.

"All decks, red alert, Lieutenant Uhura. Brace for collision! Mr. Sulu, evasion course, warp-six—emergency gravity compensation!"

Engines operating near idle suddenly gulped great amounts of energy as abrupt demands were made on the ship's warp-drive units. The
Enterprise
shot forward to one side—three-quarters of a second too late.

A thin filament of jawanda, a living peninsula, caught the ship's secondary hull. It was a small extension of the creature—probably only a few hundred kilometers long and wide.

A gentle shudder went through the fabric of the ship. It was felt on the bridge, in the recreation rooms, in Engineering, throughout. One by one the exterior scanners went dim as they were covered by jawanda.

The body of the monster was so thin that at first the scanners could penetrate its substance. This lasted until the jawanda began to fold in on itself, burying the hull in more and more of its body, millimeter piling on millimeter, until the cruiser was completely enveloped in successive folds of jawanda.

"Slow again to warp-factor two, Mr. Sulu." The helmsman complied, but the action had no effect on the jawanda. It continued to turn in on itself, still only millimeters thick, but growing deeper and thicker, like sediment deposited by some strange intergalactic stream. Total darkness soon showed on the screen as the jawanda's density finally grew impenetrable.

"I've seen a spider do the same thing to its prey," McCoy muttered, "wrapping it again and again in folds of silk. When it's finished, it bites through the silk and—"

"Don't arachnemorphize, Doctor," interrupted Spock.

McCoy blinked, his morbid visualizations temporarily shattered. "Don't
what
?"

"Don't ascribe spiderlike characteristics to an alien being."

"Captain?"

Kirk bent quickly to the intercom. "What is it, Scotty?"

"I dinna know for sure, sir. We're puttin' out as much power as usual, but for some reason it's not being utilized properly in the engines."

"Mr. Sulu," Kirk asked tightly, "what's our speed?"

"Warp-two, Captain . . . no, wait a minute." The helmsman studied his instruments in disbelief. "That is, we're supposed to be moving at warp-two—but we're not. In fact, we seem to be slowing!"

"I believe I know what is happening, Captain." Kirk looked over at Spock, could sense Vulcan mind-wheels turning rapidly. "The jawanda is an energy converter, and a remarkably efficient one. We are currently putting out a tremendous amount of radiant energy, compared to what it normally receives in the comparative emptiness of intergalactic space. This energy is highly concentrated, yet available without the threat of an attendant gravitational field. To the jawanda the
Enterprise
must seem a magical apparition of the greatest delicacy.

"Naturally, it wishes to maximize this unexpected new food source. By enveloping us in repeated folds of its absorbtive surface, it is logically attempting to contain all the radiant energy we produce, trying to prevent it from escaping into free space."

"Warp-factor one, Captain," came an excited voice from the speaker at Kirk's elbow. "Dilithium crystals showing stress patterns along interval cleavage planes," the chief engineer added. "If we don't shut down the drive now, sir, we risk losin' any chance of reactivatin' it."

Suddenly the awesome depths of the intergalactic gulf were pressing intimately around Kirk's mind. The very possibility of becoming trapped out here, many light-years away from the outermost fringes of the Milky Way, let alone the Federation, was not pleasant to dwell upon.

"All right, Scotty, if you think it's that vital, shut down the converters. We'll use impulse power to maintain life-support functions only—and hope the jawanda isn't so starved it begins to drain that too."

"Aye, Captain."

Kirk heard him shouting commands to assistants and subordinates. His concern paramount, Scotty even forgot to sign off.

Kirk closed the open link to Engineering himself. A low whine rose in intensity for a brief moment, then faded to silence, the dying wheeze of an electronic zephyr. For an instant the lights on the bridge flickered confusedly before the changeover was complete. They brightened again, as strong as before, dimmer only in Kirk's anxious imagination.

"Any comments on our situation from our alien guests, Mr. Spock?" the captain inquired hopefully.

Spock listened and informed him, "Hivar the Toq had not considered the possibility that the ship's radiation might prove an attraction to the jawanda. Conversely, the Lactrans are delighted."

"Nice to know that the present predicament is pleasing to someone," McCoy murmured sardonically.

"They commend you on your speed in capturing one so easily and in such a subtle fashion, and wonder how soon we can begin the return journey to Lactra."

"That's fine, Spock, except our friends have things a bit mixed up. It's the jawanda who's captured us, not the other way around." Kirk thought several uncomplimentary things about Lactrans, for the moment not caring particularly if his emanations were detected. Still, he mused, their present troubles were not the fault of the Lactrans. Nor of Hivar the Toq, whose knowledge of jawandas had admittedly extended no further than the atmosphere of Boqu.

"It is possible, Captain," Spock added, "that the creature will depart the
Enterprise
of its own accord, now that the main generator of radiation on board has been shut down. I do not think we should wait for this dubious eventuality. Somehow we must make it release the ship, at least long enough to permit us to get safely underway, at a speed sufficient to prevent a recurrence of the present awkward situation."

Awkward!
McCoy shouted silently, amazed as ever at the first officer's capacity for understatement.

"It certainly can't worsen our difficulties to make the attempt, Spock," agreed a thoughtful Kirk. He studied the blanked-out scanners for a moment, then decided, "Let's take a firsthand look at what we're dealing with. Bones, you come too."

McCoy glanced at him curiously. " 'Come'? Come where, Jim?"

"Outside, of course. We can't tell very much about the jawanda from in here."

While McCoy gaped at Kirk, Spock wondered easily, "Shall I contact Chief Kyle, Captain?"

Kirk made a negative gesture. "No, Mr. Spock—no transporters. The creature could drain the power from the transporter as fast as it was renewed, though I don't think it would notice such a small output of channeled radiation. But I am concerned that the transporter beam might fail to penetrate the energy-sensitive substance of the creature's body. Remember what Hivar told us about its screening capabilities? Rather than take that indeterminate risk, we'll go out through one of the emergency-access ports—and hope the jawanda doesn't decide to suck the energy from our life-support belts."

Before long the three men found themselves standing within the lock of the emergency port nearest the bridge, on the upper section of the ship's primary hull.

"Activate life-support systems," Kirk ordered. Lime-yellow auras instantly enveloped them all. Kirk saw by McCoy's approving nod that his own system was functioning properly. That slim yellowish halo was all that stood between them and the absolute cold of intergalactic space.

"Cycle the lock, Mr. Spock." The first officer touched the necessary switch, and the exterior door began to slide aside. Kirk felt a slight pull as the wisps of atmosphere missed by the ship's recyclers rushed out through the widening gap.

Looking out, he saw only the expected darkness. Yet there was something different about it. There should not have been a total absence of distant light, but there was.

Putting out an aura-shielded hand, he encountered resistance where none was expected. A slick rubbery wall sealed the lock exit, though the slickness was more imagined than felt, since his fingers did not actually make contact with the jawanda's body. Experimentally, he pushed. The dark material gave with surprising flexibility. Kirk had had no idea what to expect—something hard and resistant, perhaps, or soft like dark jelly. Instead, there was only this easily elastic smoothness.

For a moment he wondered if this was actually the body of their continent-sized nemesis. Then he jumped slightly as several small purple coruscations ran in uneven spurts across the living surface before them. The jawanda was sweating fire.

"Wonderful creature," Spock murmured.

"Let's admire it from a distance, Spock," suggested McCoy tersely. "What about trying a phaser on it, Jim?"

"Mr. Spock?" Kirk stepped back from the exit and regarded the dark substance expectantly as Spock removed the small hand phaser from his waist. The first officer set the beam on low power and directed it outward.

Blue light touched the black film blocking the doorway. Where it contacted the surface of the creature the material began to glow. The dark substance turned a light yellow at first. This melted rapidly into orange, then red, and finally into a rich purple. The mild assault was exquisitely beautiful and wholly ineffective.

"Try more power, Spock," Kirk advised. Spock did so, gradually adjusting the phaser until it was on maximum. The intense emissions produced only a slight rippling in the jawanda's body, causing it to retreat outward about half a meter from the edge of the lock.

Of course, this could have been due to sheer enjoyment of the radiation bath as much as to discomfort or injury.

"That's enough, Mr. Spock," Kirk finally declared. The first officer flipped off the phaser and reset it on his waist. Kirk was only slightly disappointed. He hadn't really expected that the tiny phaser would be capable of threatening the enormous organism.

"It absorbs energy like a sponge, Captain," commented Spock.

"What about the ship's main phasers this close to it?" wondered McCoy.

Spock considered, "I think the effect would be essentially the same as before, Doctor: a futile waste of energy. There is so much jawanda to dissipate so little power . . . and it could put a severe strain on our already dangerously weakened power supply."

Kirk studied the blank wall of living material. The purple glow was fading slowly, contentedly. "What about the possibilities of a biological assault, Bones? Some sort of injection?"

McCoy almost laughed. "On a creature the size of North America? As thin as it is, I think it would handle the most massive dose I could give it the same way Spock says it would a blast from our main phasers—by dissipating it throughout its body. That's assuming I could concoct something able to affect its body. There doesn't appear to be anything remotely resembling a central nerve center, or even nerves. They might exist, but even if the creature allowed it, we could vivisect a few dozen kilometers and miss any vital points by a week's march.

"No, thanks, I'm not ready to tackle this. Give me a nice simple problem instead, like solving a Boquian epidemic." He gestured helplessly at the black film blockading the exit. "I'm sorry, Jim. but there's nothing I can do."