Star Trek: The Original Series - 147 - Devil’s Bargain (20 page)

Sulu’s collector instinct awoke. He was looking at a weapon of some sort. But from where did he know this?

Deneb II. He’d briefly considered what it would be like to own one of those weapons for his collection—discharged and decommissioned, of course.

“A little more, down where he’s gripping it.”

Chekov obliged, and the enlarged image came into focus. And there it was.

“The maker’s mark,” said Sulu. “Rendar Armory. See the curly silver
R
there with the numeral
7
beside it?”

“I do,” Chekov said. “But what is it?”

“That, my friend, is a military nanotech injector pistol,” Sulu said. “A Rendar Mark 7. They were
outlawed fifty years ago. The only contemporary use on record was a decade ago—on a troubled little planet called Deneb II.”

“Merling has outlawed weapony,” said Chekov. “We must arrest him.”

Sulu smiled and put a hand on Chekov’s shoulder. “We must confront him. We have no evidence other than my hunch.”

“You
are
an expert in such matters,” Chekov replied.

“Thank you,” Sulu said. “But for now, let’s go have a talk with Major Merling in his quarters, shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

“And bring your tricorder,” Sulu added. “We may be able to sniff out any nanotech in the area, even if it’s deactivated.”

•   •   •

They took the turbolift to deck eight and were walking down the corridor when Chekov’s tricorder pinged. They paused as Chekov checked the readout.

“Nanotech?” asked Sulu.

“No,” Chekov replied. He turned a knob and pressed a button to switch modes. “This is strange.”

“What is it?”

“I am picking up subspace transmissions. On a very low frequency. We would normally not
monitor it on the ship, but since nanotech programming can be triggered by a subspace signal, I had it set to receive.”

“Is it a trigger signal?”

“No, it’s modulated,” said Chekov. “A message.” He popped up another readout. “It’s coded.”

“Can you break the code?”

Chekov examined the device screen. “It seems to be an older code, and the key is in the database.”

The two stood in the corridor while Chekov adjusted his tricorder. A few curious faces passed them by, but Sulu just smiled and waved them along.

“Yes, I have it,” said Chekov.

A tinny voice arose from the tricorder, soft in volume, but unmistakably Major Merling’s.

“Yes, I understand. But the bombs did their work. The tunnels are unusable.”

Another, harder voice from the other end. It was a man’s voice, and it seemed to drip with cynical disdain.
“Now they scramble for this new solution. We can never count on the idiots to do what they must. All hope must be lost for a general evacuation to be ordered.”

“Many will die. The vaccines do not work beyond a few days.”

“The strong will adapt,”
said the voice.
“Vesbius must fall, or there can be no progress.”

“Yes, yes, I do agree,”
Merling replied.

“The Federation ship must not arrive. These creatures must not pollute our system. You must see to it. Are you strong?”

“I am strong,”
Merling replied.

“Then do your duty. For yourself and for Exos.”

A pause, then a quiet mumbled reply:
“I will obey.”

Chekov looked at Sulu. “Looks like your hunch has become proof.”

“Let’s get in there!” said Sulu.

They rushed to the door using Sulu’s weapons officer override and burst through into the cabin.

There was no one in Merling’s quarters.

“What is going on?” said a bewildered Chekov. But there on a desk sat the answer: a large metallic cylinder. Sulu picked it up. “A transceiver relay,” he said. “Too big to carry about. This unit is the primary sender and receiver, however. Merling must have a portable unit with him. Can you trace it?”

Chekov already had his tricorder working on the problem. “I am getting a faint carrier signal.” He looked up in surprised concern. “From engineering, access tube D.”

“Isn’t that—”

“Life support,” Chekov said. “But Merling is confined to this deck.”

Sulu got security on the way, but that would take time. He considered. “Aren’t we close to engineering?”

“Yes,” Chekov replied. “The ensigns complain of the vibrations all the time when they are trying to sleep, although it has never bothered me.”

“That tube is vertical. There ought to be an access to a Jefferies tube on this deck.” Sulu ran down the corridor. “Here.”

The tube was sealed with a hatch. This was nothing a phaser couldn’t handle, and Sulu had brought his along—just in case. He was about to blast the latches when he noticed that they were already loose. Someone had come this way, and recently.

Pulling the hatch off, Sulu climbed inside the Jefferies tube. Chekov was about to follow. “Get security to meet me in engineering,” he said. “We’ve got to stop him. I’ll do what I can. You come at him from below.”

Chekov hesitated for a moment. Sulu could see that he didn’t want to let his friend go into the tube alone, but he turned to find an intership communicator panel. Sulu began climbing down the ladder.

Below him, he heard more muttering. “Shaft A or B? Damn these schematics. I’ll infect them both.”

This was all Sulu needed to hear. He launched himself from the ladder and shot straight down through the tube. His feet connected with something solid, then pounded into the relative softness of a head and shoulders, and Sulu felt the shudder of contact travel throughout his body. There was a startled
cry of pain, and then Sulu continued falling—now entangled with another.

There was a thud as the two reached the bottom of the tube. This entrance was to the Jefferies tube and was not covered with a hatch. The two rolled out of the tube and on to the deck of main engineering. Mister Scott was surprised to see them.

“Mister Sulu, what are you—”

But Merling recovered first. He shook Sulu off like a wild man, then scrambled around until he saw the weapon he had dropped and yanked it up. It was the Rendar Mark 7 Sulu had recognized.

“Back off!” Merling yelled, pointing the red muzzle at Scott and Sulu. Sulu pulled himself to his feet just in time to stop Scotty from charging at the major.

“He’s got a nano weapon there, Mister Scott,” Sulu said. “It can be deadly.”

“Damn right.” Merling stalked over to the main engineering panel and placed the muzzle against it. “All I have to do is pull this trigger, and your ship and all those aboard . . . die.”

Chekov rushed in with two red-shirted security officers wielding phasers.

“Wait,” called Sulu. “Nano.” They stopped in their tracks. Even after being outlawed for years, the threat of military nanotech was enough to scare anyone.

“Don’t you see, this didn’t have to happen?” said Merling.

Yes, keep him talking,
Sulu thought.
Keep his finger from pulling that trigger.

“If you people hadn’t shown up with your ship and your plans, we had everything in place to save them all.”

“They are trying to save themselves.”

Merling shook his head sadly. “Sheep. Genetically enhanced sheep hiding in their underground sheep pens. But the next step, a necessary step, to what we are about to become as a species. We must set the wolf upon them. Selection must take place.”

“And you’re the wolf?”

“Exos,” said Merling. “That is our purpose.”

“You’re willing to kill children, to kill an alien species that did you no harm?”

Merling shrugged. “I learned on Deneb II an important lesson,” he said. “Sometimes you must be cruel to be kind.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s a thankless task, but future generations will be grateful.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Sulu said. And then the lieutenant noticed something: The Rendar 7’s casing was cracked, probably from the fall. “Major, if I were you, I’d be very careful—”

Sulu took a step forward.

With a snarl, Merling pulled the trigger on the device.

Nothing happened.

He pulled it again, with the same result. Then he raised the weapon to look at it.

That was when Merling knew: The nano had leaked. Merling screamed in fear and attempted to toss the weapon away. No good. His hand was now fused to the handle. In fact, it was impossible to tell flesh and weapon handle apart.

And then the melting effect began to travel up Merling’s arm.

“No!” he screamed.

He turned to Sulu, a look of abject horror on his face. “Help me,” he said.

Sulu slowly shook his head and backed away. He turned to the security officers. “Phasers on full,” he said to them. Both quickly followed orders.

“Please, it’s . . . I can feel it . . . eating me alive,” Merling said. He tried to take a step forward, but his legs only moved slightly, as if they were made of hot wax. His entire body was quickly losing its form, turning to primordial goo. Dangerous goo, should it get loose on the ship. It could eat through decks, walls. And if this were the Deneb II master strain, it could turn the entire crew into the shambling dead.

“Fire phasers!” Sulu ordered.

A sheet of power took Merling’s collapsing form and surrounded it with phased energy. After a momentary flicker, Merling and the nano were broken down to invisible elemental gas.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” Scotty said.

“Sulfur in the nano,” Sulu said. “Harmless now.”

“Not to my nose,” Mister Scott replied.

And despite the circumstances, his aching ankles from landing on Merling, and the near-miss encounter with destruction, Sulu had to smile a weary smile.

Thirteen

Captain’s log, Stardate 6415.1. Through industrious research and legwork, Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu and Ensign Pavel Chekov discovered and thwarted a plot by Vesbian military attaché Major Johan Merling to use forbidden nanotechnology to destroy this ship. Merling’s attempted sabotage was only incidental to a plot to obliterate the Horta currently aboard
Enterprise.
His plan was to force a mass exodus of the planet Vesbius in order to forward the genetic supremacist views of a Vesbian organization, Exos, to which he secretly belonged. Commendations are recommended for Misters Sulu and Chekov.

The
Enterprise
blazed into the Vesbian system at warp eight and did not slow down until it had reached the orbital plane of the outer planet. Then, using a combination of faster than light and impulse power, the ship maneuvered into orbit around the oncoming asteroid. The first deployment of the Horta to the asteroid’s surface was overseen by Spock and Scott.

The Horta arranged themselves in an ant-like double line and made their way through the
Enterprise’
s corridors to the transporter room. When they had to enter the turbolifts they waited patiently. Rather than depending on a human operator being always present, Scotty had created a Horta-friendly command handle located in the bottom of the lift the Horta would be using. Unlike the human-centric turning handle, this was a toggle-switching device that could be pressed against to activate. The destination was preset, since all the Horta were going to the transporter room.

Spock, with Scotty’s input on engineering matters, had prepared careful instructions and communicated them to the Horta on what they were to do once they deployed on the asteroid. The
Enterprise
had conducted extensive external scans, and the asteroid was now mapped to a centimeter resolution. The Vulcan studied the readouts carefully and created what he told the captain was a mental map similar to the smell map used by a Terran canine or other chemical-sensing creature. This map would represent the layout of the asteroid to the Horta.

“I informed them of chemical concentrations, of regions of ice and rock, and the density layers to the depth to which our sensors could penetrate,” Spock explained. “These are things that Horta understand instinctively. They are remarkably quick
at assimilating the information. It was as if I were telling a Vulcan, who already knew, the way to Shi’Kahr.”

The Horta marched into the transporter room and were beamed down to the asteroid to meet Scott. He had previously beamed down in an EV suit to where a promising crack lay that might provide ingress to the asteroid’s interior. Within the space of a few hours, the Horta had dug into the asteroid and gone to work. The overall plan was to create weaknesses necessary for the destruction of the asteroid, but to do so in a precise manner. After that, the
Enterprise
would use her tractor beams and phasers to complete the job. Before the
Enterprise
went into action, the Horta would gather in a prearranged spot on the asteroid’s surface and be beamed back aboard.

It was a complex operation, something that only a species that was capable of long-range planning and thinking could even conceive of completing. Kirk was more and more impressed with the Horta the longer he was in contact with them. They were not merely intelligent, but advanced. He would, without question, author a report supporting Federation membership.

Would the plan work? Spock believed that it would, and Scotty had become increasingly optimistic about its chances for success. But there were many unknowns. For despite all the scans the
Enterprise
had completed of the asteroid, there were many uncharted regions the Horta would encounter. In some places, they might need sensors. Mister Scott offered to remain on the asteroid with the Horta to provide backup and assistance.

The only reason the plan had a chance to succeed was the fact that the asteroid was a combination of a nickel-iron asteroid and a comet. The metallic interior was all asteroid, but either through accretion or collision—Spock thought it had been the latter—the asteroid core had accumulated a rock and ice outer coating. Finally, the rind of the asteroid, its surface, was made up of more common silicon debris to depths of ten to fifteen meters, Spock estimated from millennia of strikes from micrometeorites.