Star Trek: The Original Series - 147 - Devil’s Bargain (11 page)

“That might not be a bad idea at some point,” noted Spock.

“But that is not our purpose at present,” said Kirk. “We need their help to break apart an asteroid that is on a collision course with the planet Vesbius, whose representatives have accompanied us, Ambassador Hannah Faber and Major Johan Merling.”

“You want them to . . . do
what,
exactly?”

“To cut the asteroid as a jeweler might cut a gem,” Spock explained. “That is the closest analogy that I can think of at present.”

The mining director nodded her head. She
considered what she’d heard for a moment and then her nodding became a more enthusiastic head bobbing. The director was nothing if not enthusiastic. “Yes, yes, that is a very interesting idea, and something the Horta might consider if there were something in it for them.”

“Something in it for them?” said Spock, with a trace of disbelief in his voice. “When I communicated with the Horta All Mother previously, there was no indication that she would require
quid pro quo
to make an agreement.”

“That’s the All Mother,” said Weisskopf. “The children are another matter entirely. As you know, we established a primitive method of communicating with the Horta. We have a wigwag movement code worked out, a system of colored-stone exchange, and, when all else fails, we leave messages to one another carved into rocks with either phaser or poured acid. We put in a request for a telepath or an empath, but no luck. In any case, I have found the kids to be not only intelligent and hardworking, they also rather enjoy making a profit.”

“A profit?” said Kirk. “That implies they have something to do with their money.”

“It does indeed,” answered Weisskopf.

“And what exactly does a Horta
do
with credits?” asked McCoy. “I don’t suppose they spend it on gambling and wild women?”

“Well, you might be surprised. You’re closer
than you think,” Weisskopf answered. “One thing they do is collect rocks. Geological specimens from throughout the galaxy. Things that can’t be found here in the mine. They’re particularly fond of silicon geodes from Earth.”

“Do they . . . study them?” asked Kirk.

The director laughed. “Heck no. They consider them a delicacy. They
eat
them, of course.”

“Of course,” Kirk replied.

•   •   •

The journey into the depths of the mine was a long one on the carrier sled, and Spock used the time to consider the reactions of those about him. For the humans among them, the descent must have seemed eerie. The mine lighting system could only dispel some of the pitch-blackness of the place, and the sameness of the walls and ceiling could make the visitor feel utterly lost. Miners who were intimately familiar with passageways might be able to find their way back; for anyone else it would be a challenge.

The Vulcan found the convoluted mines interesting. While he would never feel at home in such close confines, he did not experience the claustrophobia that the humans seemed to be experiencing. Spock did not entirely understand this emotion-laden sensation. After all, a body could only fit where there was sufficient space in a passageway.
If a person estimated where he or she might fit and then got stuck, he or she could either call for help or resign him- or herself to fate. Thrashing about and growing restive would not change things one iota.

Nevertheless, the caves did present a problem. Spock was tall, and the Horta were no more than waist height to him. The captain merely had to stoop a bit to make his way. Spock often found himself bent over double in the Horta-carved caves and shuffling along in a most unpleasant manner. An Earthman might have called it a “duck walk.”

•   •   •

The miners who were guiding them did not seem to feel the same trepidation about the size of the tunnels. In fact, the miners seemed to be in a better humor the closer they got to the Horta living area.

“Those baby Horta are kind of frisky,” said Director Weisskopf, who accompanied them. “But they’re basically goodhearted creatures. And smarter than the devil. Only—”

“Only what?” asked Kirk

“Do not treat them like animals. They’re not animals; they’re reasoning beings, just like you and I—only they are young.”

“Yes, about two and a half Earth years old at this point,” said Spock.

The director explained: “They have something like a group mind, like bees or ant colonies,
although each one is much more individual than a bee. They’ve learned a great deal in the past two years. Each Horta seems to know what the others know. They act pretty much like adolescents.”

“Teenagers?” said Kirk.

“Yes. Emotionally, with a teenage hive mind, too.”

Kirk turned to Spock. “Maybe we can use that, Spock.”

The passageway they had been scuttling along gave way to a large chamber. This was the former egg chamber. But now it had been transformed into living quarters, a vast apartment complex, the walls decorated with glittering minerals, quartz, and feldspar. Mica windows glinted between individual stalls, which appeared to be living spaces. And the chamber was no longer filled with eggs. The eggs were gone; now it was filled with hundreds of hatchlings. Perhaps thousands. And each as large as a reclining couch.

“Fascinating,” said Spock.

“My, how they’ve grown,” Kirk quipped.

They were about the same size as the All Mother. But not all of them were the same reddish brown hue. Some shone with a blue or greenish tint, and it took Kirk a moment to realize that this must be decoration of some sort.

“Clothing,” Spock offered.

“Spock ?” asked Kirk.

“The Horta appear to have the same drive to adorn their bodies as do other sentient life forms. Even though they are silicon based and their internal structure does not correspond to any aliens we have encountered before. I wonder what the various rocks and colorations with which they adorn themselves mean. It would be a fascinating study.”

“Agreed, but that will have to wait,” said Kirk. “Let’s try to establish communication.” He turned to the director. “Can you tell them that we are about to attempt to establish a direct line of mental communication between one of them and Mister Spock?”

“I’ll try,” said the director. “I would suggest that you start off with Slider Dan over there.” She pointed toward a Horta who had drawn close to them when they had entered the chamber. “That’s not his real name, of course, just what we call him. I suppose because of the way he moves through the rock. The Horta respect him, too. He’s not their leader exactly—he’s the one that understands humans—so we usually use him as our interpreter. For a Horta he seems to have a pretty good grasp of human nature.”

“I hope he gets along well with Vulcans, too,” said Kirk. “But I suppose that’s the best place to start. How do you know it’s a he, anyway?”

“Oh, they have . . . characteristics,” said the director. “Extendable bumps that we’re pretty sure are ovipositors on females and penises on the male.
You can tell male from the female by . . . well, you can’t really tell easily unless you’re used to it, and the Horta wants to show its underside. Just trust me, that Horta is a male.”

The director took out a handheld device that Spock was about to inquire about when she pulled the trigger on the device and a large sonic signal reverberated through the chamber. It was similar to a rescue air horn in quality and intensity. Then from a side pack of items she carried at her waist, the director took out several different colored round stones.

“They communicate with marbles,” said Kirk.

“Marbles?” said Spock.

“An ancient Earth pastime,” Kirk replied. “A children’s game using smooth stones, like ball bearings. The object is to knock the player’s stones out of an area, and then you get to keep them.”

“Sounds rather barbaric,” said Spock.

“Oh, it is,” said Kirk, “but entertaining.”

The director put the marbles in front of the Horta named Slider Dan. True to his name, he slid over the stones with a rumble. Spock noted that the marbles had various colors, and the director had placed them in a specified order. With a few more examples, Spock was confident he could understand the code and read the marbles when they were laid down. But it seemed a very cumbersome method to communicate complicated ideas—and
what he had to communicate was very complicated indeed.

The male Horta withdrew from the marbles. The mining director looked down and checked the order.

“Well,” said Weisskopf. “He says he’s game for discussion.”

“And you explained to him what we’re proposing to do?” asked Kirk.

“I told them that this one”—she pointed to Spock—“wished to speak with him by touching him. I don’t think he knows what that means any more than I do, really. But he said yes. You want me to ask him again? In some other way?”

“I believe that will be sufficient, Captain,” said Spock. “After all, no one is ever really prepared for a Vulcan mind probe.”

The Vulcan approached the Horta and knelt down beside it. He could smell the sulfuric tinge of its acidic flesh, but he knew from his previous contact with the All Mother that most of the acid was generated and held underneath the creature. The carapace of a Horta was not toxic or harmful. Contact would be necessary for the mind meld to truly be effective.

Spock reached out and touched the Horta. It seemed to flinch, and it drew back a shuffle step, but then it remained still and allowed him to continue positioning his hands on its surface.

Spock sent tenuous mental inquiries directed toward the Horta. Like many beings that had not experienced telepathic communication with alien species, there was the initial recoil, and a moment of fright. But this Horta appeared to be rather perceptive and seemed to grasp quickly what was going on. In fact, it—he—seemed to know exactly who Spock was.

You are the Vulcan who touched the All Mother’s mind.
It was the Horta Slider Dan, his thoughts sifting into Spock’s mind.
You are the communicator who found a way to save the children. I am honored to be in contact with you, sir. We have among us a semi-telepathic bond, and when you speak with me you are speaking to many, although what is communicated is more feeling than intelligent thought.

Spock replied in thought
; I am pleased that we may communicate together, and be as one for a short time. The procedure requires that you open your mind to me and I to you. It is more than mere speech; it is a complete sharing of being. Will you let me do this, and will you engage with me?

I shall, Spock. This is not so different from our normal meeting communications,
the Horta replied.
You understand that we “talk” with smells and psionic waves that allow us to form a clan mind and the hive mind. It works best among family members, but all of us are capable of some form of mental communication with one another.

Thank you.
And with that, Spock entered into full mind meld with the Horta.

What he encountered there first were thoughts of rock. The jagged form of the mineral trace, the crack that might be exploited to open up new territory. The weight of the planet above, and the heat of the planet below. The beauty of vast caves and minerals deep under the surface hidden where no human could survive or enter—but those places were the playground of the Horta. The chemical tang, the smell of minerals and salts. And the delightful taste of those minerals that trade with the humans provided, especially those delicious geodes so enjoyed by Slider Dan—the meaning of whose name was not so far off from the human approximation, although his true name was an unpronounceable amalgamation of images, of a fast and swift youthful Horta passing through rock as a swimmer might slice through water.

I am named for a mythological hero in our distant past, Spock.
Now that their thoughts were one, Spock instantly understood the myth from which the name derived. The process of comprehension was rather like a computer download. It was a sort of tall tale, and Slider Dan was immensely proud of his name, which was unique to his Horta clan.

“
Spock” is an ancient name on Vulcan. I believe my human mother gave it to me so that I might better fit in.

You Vulcans have heaviness about you that I think the All Mother would appreciate. But what do you do for fun on Vulcan?

Fun? We reason.

Oh.

We occasionally engage in competitions of logic. I myself enjoy a good game of three-dimensional chess with the captain.

Sounds delightful.

Spock could not tell whether or not the Horta was being genuine or was making a joke at his expense. It seemed a mind meld still allowed wiggle room with the truth. In any case, it didn’t matter, as Spock was not offended. The time had come to communicate his mission.

Using the mind meld, Spock quickly explained what it was that Starfleet Command and the Vesbians wished from the Horta.

After he was finished, but before the mind meld was broken, Spock felt the Horta draw away from his mind as if to shield a thought he did not wish to communicate. And then there was full contact yet again.

We wish to discuss, and ruminate among ourselves. We must consider. It is a large thing you ask of us, to leave this world even for a short time. None of us has departed ever. In fact, if we go on to the surface, some of us experience a thing very similar to what the humans experience in very tight spaces. We will have to overcome this if we are to accompany you. Let us withdraw now, and I will give you an answer in a little while. Thank you so much for visiting us again, and speaking in such a manner to us. You are greatly honored among our people. We have a name for you, a special name.

And what is that?
Spock asked

Speaker from the Stars,
thought the Horta. And then Spock and Slider Dan broke contact. Spock stepped back, dazed for a moment, as he usually was, after an intense mind meld.

“Spock,” said Kirk, “are you all right?”

“Perfectly,” answered Spock after a moment. “I have communicated our purpose to the Horta. They wish time to consider it and will return with a response shortly.”