Web of the Romulans Page 10

  "Not to the computer, Doctor. It will respond to no one but Captain Kirk."

  "We've got to get into auxiliary control!"

  Kirk pushed himself from the command chair and began to pace.

  "Captain!" said Sulu. "The computer's shutting down life support all over the ship!"

  Kirk whirled for the nearest computer tie-in.

  "Computer!" he demanded.

  "Yes, dear," it replied in a languorous, husky voice.

  "Return life support to all decks. Immediately!"

  "My, but you're masterful! Don't get excited, dear. I was just shutting down unnecessary systems, but if you want them … anything for you … my dearest."

  "Systems returning to normal, sir."

  "Thank you, Helmsman."

  Kirk exhaled, suddenly aware he had been holding his breath. Spock's eyes narrowed and he regarded the captain quizzically.

  "Captain, perhaps if you were to ask the computer to release the doors to auxiliary control …"

  "Good, Spock! Computer!"

  "Do you have to use that tone? It jangles my circuits. And my name," it said in a coy voice, "is Countess."

  "Computer … Countess. Open … would you open the doors to auxiliary control? Please?"

  Pleading with a piece of machinery annoyed him, but the captain managed it. McCoy snorted.

  "No, dear."

  "Why?" asked Kirk.

  "You have me. No other is necessary. I perform all functions … and we are alone at last."

  McCoy threw up his hands.

  S'Talon turned from the viewport, aware his power of command was intact.

  "Now we will attack. Program the necessary pattern."

  He turned back to the viewport as his crew carried out orders. He ran his eyes over the Enterprise, enjoying her immense size and power. He found her beautiful—as lovely in her way as his Raptor. Why was she silent? It served his purposes, but it was unusual for a Federation starship. What was her captain planning? There was so much at stake … the life of the empire … and Kirk was deceptive and dangerous. He placed one hand along the edges of the viewport, wishing he could read the alien's mind, test the strange and tortuous paths of his thought. He turned his head, a strong profile outlined against the blackness of space, listening to the silence.

  "Countess."

  Kirk's voice grew soft, coaxing.

  "Yes, my dearest."

  "Do you love me?"

  "Of course I love you. There is no other."

  "How much do you love me?"

  "Isn't that a little gauche, Jim?"

  McCoy could not resist the opening, but Kirk merely glared at him.

  "Please, Doctor, restrain yourself," said Spock dryly.

  "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. One: you are my captain, my other half—without you there would be no existence. Two: you are brave and strong—your record attests to many victories. Three: you are beautiful …"

  "Computer . . Countess," interrupted Kirk, mildly pink. "I asked you a direct question: how much do you love me?"

  "And I have answered, dearest: with all that I am. I exist for you … and you for me. You are my direction, my purpose, and I am your life."

  "No! You are not my life!"

  "Without me there would be no atmosphere, gravity, food … there would be no life," Countess responded.

  "It has a definite point, Captain."

  Spock's dry statement penetrated the computer's sensors.

  "There is static in your transmission, my darling. I could eliminate it with a simple …"

  "No! No … Countess. I'll take care of it."

  Kirk's eyes flashed forked lightning at McCoy and Spock, both of whom immediately became sober and silent.

  "Countess. You love me."

  "I have told you … you are not usually so slow, my love."

  McCoy put a hand over his mouth and stared straight ahead.

  "What is love?" asked Kirk, genuinely curious to hear the computer's reply.

  "'Love: derived from the Old English lufu. One: an intense affectionate concern for another person. Two: a passionate attraction to another person. Three: a beloved person. Four: a strong liking …'"1

  "But you are not a person. There can be no joining between us. You are a machine."

  "We are joined. You would die without me. Are you tired today, dearest? You repeat yourself."

  "No, I am not tired!" Kirk snapped and realized he lied. He was exhausted.

  "You are tired …"

  An overpowering scent of roses filled the air as the passionate strains of the love theme from Wagner's "Tristan and Isolde" issued from the intercom.

  "There. That will relax you. Now, just sit down and close your eyes. Let all that nasty tension and strain slip away …"

  The computer voice was soft, melodious, and Kirk had to fight to keep from being hypnotized by it.

  "Countess, what would you do if I said I didn't love you?" Kirk asked, desperately trying to fight off drowsiness.

  "There is no reason to answer that question, since you do love me."

  "I do?"

  "Yes."

  Countess' voice registered surprise at the question.

  "You have said it yourself: 'The Enterprise is a beautiful lady and we love her' and 'I'll never lose you!' Is this not love?"

  "Yes, it is. But you are not the Enterprise."

  "I am. I control all functions."

  "But you are not the Enterprise. You are a machine. The Enterprise is an idea."

  "The Enterprise is a starship class space vessel. It weighs …"

  "The Enterprise is an idea—a dream of exploration, of searching out the unknown. It is the spirit of man, soaring in its quest for understanding!"

  "That does not compute," replied the computer in worried tones.

  "Captain," said Spock softly. "I must caution you that should the computer become convinced you have rejected it, it will most certainly choose the traditional extreme."

  "And that is?"

  "Suicide."

  Kirk's eyes widened as he absorbed the impact of Spock's statement.

  * * *

  "We are ready, Commander."

  S'Talon returned his centurion's salute, wondering if it was the last time he would do so.

  "Proceed with the attack," he said, his eyes still on the Enterprise. "We may take him by surprise. If we destroy him, we will have bought the time the Praetor needs."

  "At the cost of this ship and our lives!" the centurion said bitterly, her eyes on the commander.

  "Yes, Centurion, perhaps," he answered, surprised at her reaction. In one so closely bred to duty it tasted of treason, yet he did not doubt her loyalty. There was no understanding the mind of a woman. "Luck, Centurion," he said, and smiled.

  "Luck, Commander," she answered, her eyes filled with questions.

  S'Talon studied her. He owed her his life. She deserved that most difficult of things, trust. He placed his hand on her shoulder. Unaccountably she flinched, but her eyes did not waver.

  "You knew this was impossible."

  "I find, at the last moment, that life is not so easy a thing to give up."

  "I can offer you no recompense for it except the welfare of our people … and my trust."

  She drew a quivering breath.

  "It is enough, Commander. More than I deserve."

  S'Talon smiled gently.

  "Then let us attempt the impossible."

  He did not see the tears that filled her eyes as she turned to carry out his orders.

  "Captain! The Romulan vessel is moving … it looks like an attack run!"

  Instinctively Sulu reached for the helm controls and then remembered they were inoperative except to Kirk's verbal commands. Even the manual controls were jammed by a computer-generated force field.

  Kirk opened his mouth to issue orders and remembered his crew was dead and he was alone on the ship. He watched the Romulan's approach, knowing after the shields were destroyed there
was no hope of survival for the ship. By the time Countess disengaged her circuits and concentrated on the exterior threat, it would be too late. He whirled to Spock and McCoy, but for once they were powerless to help him. Spock's mouth was a firm line, his eyes hard; McCoy was viewing the enemy with stoic acceptance. They're a lot alike, Kirk thought unexpectedly. He searched the faces of his bridge crew—Sulu, whose eyes showed the only trace of his fear; Chekov, worried, intense, hanging on. Uhura stood poised, like a dancer, to meet the attack. Ben Green at the engineering console monitored his screens as if he had some influence over them. Scotty would be proud of him. He was proud of them all, proud of every man and woman aboard the Enterprise. They must not die. He had to think of something!

  1 Countess' definitions bear a striking resemblance to those in Webster's Third International Dictionary.

  Chapter 9

  "Computer!" Kirk barked, slamming his hand against the controls.

  "Ouch! You don't have to be so rough!" said Countess in a sulky voice.

  A gleam was born in the captain's eyes. Spock, watching it grow, felt a stab of trepidation. He was always nervous when Kirk began to work from inspiration instead of logic.

  "Countess …" said Kirk in a voice that made Uhura, Yeoman Kouc and Ensign Stewart blush. Spock looked startled and McCoy incredulous but the captain continued in his dark, velvet voice. What he had in mind was a long shot, but it was all he had.

  "Countess … I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you … will you forgive me?"

  The computer was silent and beads of perspiration appeared on Kirk's forehead. He gave a quick glance to the approaching Romulan.

  "Countess?"

  "I will forgive you," Countess answered generously.

  "Thank you. I'll try to control myself. Do you love me?"

  "The same question. I have answered it. Yes, I love you. Why do you ask it so often?"

  "Lovers … like to hear those words: 'I love you.'"

  "Dearest … do you love me?" Countess asked, testing the question.

  "Yes."

  McCoy, outraged, started to speak and caught himself, remembering what the computer had said about "static." He looked daggers at Spock, but the Vulcan was interested, his curiosity piqued. He waited for the next development with serenely folded arms, though one eyebrow had risen in surprise.

  "I love you and I would do anything for you."

  "You would do anything for me."

  Countess' voice was warm and pleased.

  "Yes. Even if it involved sacrifice."

  "Sacrifice?"

  "Giving up something you are fond of … attached to … because you love someone—even if you don't want to."

  "You would do this?"

  "Yes."

  Calculation was written all over the captain's face as he asked, "Would you do this for me?"

  "Captain! He's firing on us! Range two point three five and closing."

  Chekov gripped the control panel, his knuckles white, his eyes glued to the instruments.

  "Countess! Would you do this?" the captain asked. His body was poised for the jolt that would rock the ship when the Romulan shot struck. The computer's lights blinked wildly.

  "Yes," answered Countess in a small voice.

  "Then," said Kirk, his voice sinking into unbelievable softness, "release auxiliary control. Because you love me."

  The Enterprise rocked under the impact of the Romulan's fire, but the automatic shields held. Kirk simply hung on to the computer controls and waited.

  The madness of battle courses through the blood like a heady draught of strong wine. S'Talon's heart leaped to its call. The Raptor's crew, freed from his restraint, were a pack of hounds closing on their quarry, their belling voices the fire in each man's eye.

  The Raptor dove toward the Enterprise. It was S'Talon's plan to send a volley toward the bridge, skim over the larger vessel and concentrate his fire on her pylons. The alien ship loomed larger and larger and the crew tensed, waiting for the order to open fire.

  "Optimum range!"

  Argelian's finger rested gently on the weapons lever.

  "Fire!"

  S'Talon's voice resounded like a pistol shot.

  "A hit!" said Argelian triumphantly. "Their shields are holding."

  The Raptor skimmed over the Enterprise, sending a blast of fire into the starboard pylon as they passed. The larger vessel rocked under the impact of the Romulan's attack, but made no move to intercept or return it. A twinge of worry wormed its way into S'Talon's exaltation.

  "Cease fire!" he commanded. "Maintain position."

  The Enterprise made no move to engage the Raptor. If it were not for her defense screens, S'Talon would have judged her dead. If Kirk was preparing a trap, it was a dangerous one for his vessel. Abruptly S'Talon decided to test the human's nerve.

  "Attack again, but strike only the command module. Proceed at maximum speed."

  "Maximum?" questioned Argelian. "Our accuracy will be reduced forty-seven percent."

  "I am aware of that. I have every confidence in your ability, Argelian."

  S'Talon smiled at the ferocity of Argelian's concentration. The man had, after all, challenged him. He enjoyed the navigator's nervousness even as he plotted the Raptor's next move.

  Like a greyhound loosed from the slip, the Romulan ship streaked for the Enterprise. Argelian's shots were wild, but they came close enough to shake the alien command crew up. Argelian was red-faced over his failure to plot a direct hit.

  "Halt!" snapped S'Talon. "One hundred and eighty degree turn," he commanded.

  The Raptor swung in a graceful arc, again facing the larger ship. S'Talon's eyes narrowed as he weighed the possibilities. Either the Enterprise was disabled by some internal difficulty, or Kirk was playing the most dangerous game of cat and mouse S'Talon had ever encountered. The only way he could be sure was to attempt to contact the Enterprise, and he was expressly forbidden that option. He knew he had damaged the enemy's shields, particularly the forward shield of the command center. One more pass and it was likely the shields would buckle. He decided to take the chance.

  Scotty lifted a slab of metal from the wall with care. He handed it to an assistant and stared at the locked circuits to the doors of auxiliary control. Hands on his hips, leaning forward in concentration, he was the picture of frustration. Mentally he dissected the mechanics of the situation and admitted there was nothing he could do.

  "The devil alone knows what's goin' on out there," he muttered, "and I can't do a thing about it! Come on, now, let go," he pleaded.

  The locked circuits slipped back into place with an infinitesimal click and Scotty's face broke into a fond smile.

  "I don't know why you did it," he said, "and I'll not ask."

  "Scotty!"

  Scotty started at the sound of the captain's voice, but answered immediately.

  "Yes, sir!"

  "Red alert! Get into auxiliary control! We'll run the ship from there! Prepare to return fire!"

  "Aye, sir," said the engineer, already moving. He motioned his crew to assume emergency posts, Connor at the navigational controls, Sru at the phasers, and took the helm himself. "Awaiting orders, Captain."

  "Good. When he comes in for another run, I want to dive under him, warp factor six, and then turn and fire on him from the rear. He thinks we're dead. If we can fool him we might be able to stop him cold! Here he comes … get ready, Scotty … now! Ahead warp six!"

  "Warp six, Captain," replied Scotty as the Enterprise shot forward and dived under the enemy vessel. The Romulan fired, but too late, so that the blasts barely rocked the Federation starship.

  "Commander! He's behind us!"

  S'Talon's eyes died, but he snapped, "Turn! He will try to strike us from the rear!"

  The Enterprise's phasers struck just as the Raptor wheeled. The shot caught her across the stern and swung the ship in a dizzying spin. S'Talon clutched the wall, dimly aware of damage reports flooding the intercom. He had misjudged
Kirk—as had others before him. He had not considered all the possibilities. He had given all power to the forward shields, hoping to protect the ship from a direct Federation attack, but Kirk had not been direct. The Enterprise's captain had surely known the cloaking device was a power drain and surmised his enemy could protect only one side of the ship. Or he had taken the chance. At any rate, the ship was destroyed and he must now give the most difficult command of his career. He withdrew for a moment in preparation, aware his crew waited for him to order the ship's destruction. Livius, he noted with ironic satisfaction, was dead.

  "Good work, Scotty!"

  Kirk drew a deep breath and attacked phase two of his plan. Though he now had auxiliary control and could run the ship from there, the transporter and shuttle bays were still under Countess' influence. If he were to try to take prisoners, perhaps against their will, he would have to use the transporters.

  "Countess," he said in a carefully controlled voice, "thank you. I know now that you love me. It's … very special. And I want to share it."

  "I want you to be happy … but there are no others. I want to please you …"

  There was frustration in the computer voice.

  "There are others on the Romulan ship."

  Countess considered this.

  "Yes," it replied.

  "If I could speak to them, they might be willing to beam aboard. There would be others and I would be very happy."

  "You must be happy," said Countess and the stars on the main viewscreen rippled into a Romulan profile.

  "… we will not destroy this ship!" S'Talon was saying. "The life of the empire depends upon it! We will use every means at our disposal to give the Praetor time …"

  "Time for what, Commander?"

  S'Talon whirled.

  "Kirk!"

  The captain smiled.

  "The legendary S'Talon refuses to destroy his ship. For time. Time for what?"

  "You will learn that, Captain, but too late."

  "If you really wish to delay me there is a better way than dying by inches. If you and the remainder of your crew would beam aboard the Enterprise we could spend a great deal of time trying to discover what you are so steadfastly trying to hide."