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"But it could still be here, lurking anywhere, and even you could not detect its presence?"

  "Not unless we sent a probe through it. Or simply ran into it ourselves."

  "And more such gates could exist? Gates that could make our ships disappear as easily as they do yours?"

  "I have no reason to doubt it." Kirk paused, looking from one to the other. "Have some of your ships disappeared in this way? Without having a chance to transmit the customary description of their attackers?"

  "Description? What description?" Tarasek bridled.

  "Shortly before the battle, we observed and recorded highly compressed subspace broadcasts made both by you and by one of the Destroyer ships. Also, prior to attacking us, the first Destroyer ship that we encountered made a similar broadcast, containing an image of our own ship. We have assumed this is standard procedure for any ship about to go into battle."

  When none of the Hoshan spoke, Kirk went on. "In fact, your own broadcast was very helpful to our ship's computer in learning to speak your language. However, you need not be concerned. Neither signal gave us the slightest hint as to the location of your home worlds."

  Still there was silence, but then Bolduc, the Hoshan who had first begun to speak willingly, said, "You are right. We always transmit as much information as possible before going into battle, though we were not aware that the Destroyers did so as well. You are also right when you suggest that some of our own ships have disappeared without warning. We have assumed until now that their transmitters malfunctioned or that the Destroyers had been able somehow to take them unawares. These gates of yours, however, would be a less worrisome explanation."

  "They aren't our gates," Kirk emphasized. "We discovered them only recently and were trying to learn more about them when we were suddenly transported here, who knows how many millions of parsecs from home."

  "You would have us believe that you are alone here?" Tarasek asked. "With no possibility of returning to your homes?"

  "Our only hope is to find the gate that brought us here. At the moment, the odds do not look good, but we haven't given up hope."

  "And us? What do you want of us?" Tarasek continued, seeming more skeptical by the moment. "Why have you shown us all these things? Why do you openly confess your problems and weaknesses to us?"

  "Because we hoped that, if we demonstrated our trust in you, you might come to trust us, at least a little."

  The Hoshan made a rasping sound deep in his throat as his eyes swept across the security detail's drawn phasers. "It is easy to trust those who are your prisoners and have no opportunity to betray you. If you truly wish us to trust you," he added, his eyes locking with Kirk's, "use your great ship to help us wipe out the Destroyers!"

  Chapter Ten

  DR. CRANDALL HAD barely seated himself at the conference table with Kirk and the three Enterprise senior officers when a scowling Dr. McCoy said, "It seems clear enough to me, Jim. There's no doubt that the Hoshan need our help."

  "And you think we should give it to them, Bones?" Kirk asked, settling into the chair at the head of the table.

  "You're darned right I do!"

  "Reasons?"

  "How many reasons do you need, Jim? They attacked us the second they realized we existed. They did the same with the Hoshan. They've been doing it with the Hoshan for at least a hundred years!"

  "If we believe everything the Hoshan tell us."

  "And you don't?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do," Kirk said. "But the important part is what they didn't tell us. Or weren't able to tell us. The reasons the Destroyers attacked them."

  McCoy shook his head in exasperation as he slumped back in his chair. "Sheer cussedness is reason enough for me. These Destroyers are the local version of the Klingons. They like to fight, and they like to kill."

  "You could be right, Doctor," Spock said, "but that hypothesis does not take into account many of the obliterated worlds we saw. The so-called Destroyers do not have phaser technology, and yet several of the worlds were destroyed by phaser fire. Are you suggesting their race possessed the technology thousands of years ago but lost it in the meantime?"

  "Just because the six ships we've seen so far didn't have phasers doesn't mean they don't exist! Besides, it doesn't matter who destroyed those other worlds. That happened ages ago. This is happening now, and we've seen how these people operate! The Hoshan call them Destroyers, and that's exactly what they are!"

  "However, Doctor," Spock countered, "we have not seen the people themselves, nor have we been able to speak with them and ask the reasons for their behavior. Under such circumstances, I find it difficult to logically determine the truth of the situation."

  "There are times, Spock," McCoy snapped, "when you don't need logic to know what the truth is!"

  "Possible, Doctor, but I very much doubt that this is such a time."

  "Scotty," Kirk said, interrupting another angry retort by McCoy, "any opinions?"

  "Aye, Captain, more than plenty, but no' a one that comes with a guarantee. If it were no' for Mr. Spock's sensor readings, I would ha' my doubts that anything living was even on board those ships. Even Klingons do not automatically destroy themselves and their ships the instant they are defeated, and certainly not when there is every chance that they could still be rescued by their comrades."

  "Mr. Spock?" Kirk turned to the science officer. "Any possibility of error in the life form readings? Could the Destroyer ships be totally automated? Programmed to destroy?"

  "Possible but highly unlikely. The readings indicated conscious, humanoid life forms. And do not forget that the Hoshan performed in a markedly similar fashion."

  "True," Kirk said, "but the Hoshan ship was alone, with no chance of rescue that the crew knew of. And they had a reason for the suicide and the destruction of their ships. If they were captured alive or their ship taken intact, the location of their home world would be in jeopardy. Under similar circumstances, facing an enemy that could wipe out earth, I can imagine doing the same to the Enterprise. These so-called Destroyers, if we are to believe the Hoshan, have never had any such reason for similar fears. And with four of their fellows looking on, those two certainly had no such reasons. If they themselves had not ended their own lives and their ships had not automatically destroyed themselves, there was no reason they could not have been rescued by the remaining four ships."

  "Who can say what their fears are, Captain?" Spock said. "Without speaking with them, none of us here can do that, nor can the Hoshan. And all too often among races which, like your own, are not ruled by logic, fears need to be neither rational nor logical in order to be real. It was one of your human philosophers, I believe, who spoke of the possibility that fear itself was sometimes the only thing that one might have to fear."

  "A politician, not a philosopher," Kirk said, "but your point is well taken, Mr. Spock. Dr. Crandall? Any thoughts from the civilian viewpoint?"

  "I'm afraid not, Captain Kirk. Contacting new civilizations, even under normal conditions, is not my area of expertise. I'm more than happy to leave it in your capable hands."

  Kirk suppressed a grimace, wondering if he had been right to invite Crandall, ostensibly as a representative of the Council, to participate in the meeting. After those first few days of imperious demands and constant criticism, Crandall had done a complete about-face, apparently totally conquering the fear that had driven him at first. Ever since, he had been the soul of cooperation, at least on the surface. Everything he did, every word he spoke, seemed aimed at wiping out the memory of those early outbursts, of establishing himself as reasonable and cooperative and understanding. Kirk, however, was not at all sure he didn't prefer the earlier version. At least you knew where he stood. With this new, oily-smooth, anything-to-help facade, there wasn't even a glimmer of certainty.

  And the man was everywhere. Dropping in on the bridge. Roaming the corridors and chatting with the crew, sometimes even shaking hands as if he were on a planetside campaign trail. It wouldn't surprise K
irk to find him cozying up to the Hoshan, now that the language problem had been licked.

  "All right, then," Kirk said, turning back to the others, "except for Dr. McCoy, we agree that we need to know more before taking sides. The question is, how do we go about it? Scotty, what about the Hoshan suggestion? Could we use the transporters to snatch someone from a Destroyer ship? Could we do it fast enough to keep from getting blasted before we can get our deflectors back up?"

  "You could disable the ship first," McCoy said.

  "And have them blow themselves up instead of us? From our limited experience so far, they seem to be even quicker on the self-destruct trigger than the Hoshan." Kirk smiled faintly and then added, "It's too bad we can't set the ship's phasers to stun, as we can the hand phasers. That might take care of our problem. But how about it, Scotty? If we approach one of the ships the same way we approached the disabled Hoshan ship, would we be able to lock the transporters onto the crew fast enough?"

  "It depends on how quickly they react. We can try. If it does no' work—and if we can get the deflectors back up in time—we can try to think of something else."

  "Very well, gentlemen," Kirk said, standing, "unless one of us comes up with something better before the next watch, that's it."

  Lost in thought, Dr. Jason Crandall walked slowly down the corridor toward his stateroom. The situation was changing far too rapidly for his liking. His plans, his campaign, required time, a great deal of undisturbed time. He could not afford the turmoil and the distractions that the Hoshan and their problems presented. Without the necessary time, it would be virtually impossible for him to build the kind of trust among the crew that would be required if he were to have any hope of success when he eventually evoked the name of the Federation Council and challenged Kirk openly and directly.

  And challenging Kirk was not, he had decided in the last few days, as impossible a task as he had first feared. After his first chat with Ensign Davis, he had talked to dozens more of the crew, even a few of the officers, cautiously sounding them out, looking for areas of vulnerability, areas in which he could influence them. Somewhat to his surprise, he had found that Kirk's obvious popularity, even charisma, did not always translate into blind faith in his every decision. Virtually everyone on board knew of the dozens of hair's-breadth escapes the Enterprise had undergone since he had taken command. Most had participated in several, and, despite their admiration and respect for the captain, there was often an undertone of doubt in their voices, even of uneasiness, that the Enterprise should have been allowed to fall into so many hazardous situations in the first place. There were even some who made sour comments about Kirk's reputation—of which even Crandall himself had been aware—as a lady's man, but since no one could point to an instance where it had affected his performance as captain, Crandall dismissed them primarily as the result of envy. Even so, the names of those who had made the comments were filed in Crandall's growing bank of information.

  But then, just as Crandall felt he was beginning to make real progress, not only with the crew in general but with some of the officers, most notably with Lieutenant Jameson, the third-watch science officer, the Hoshan had been brought aboard. At first, after Nurse Garcia's injuries and the Hoshan's adamant refusal to speak, even among themselves, Crandall had thought the whole incident could be turned to his advantage. After all, Kirk had risked the ship in a foolhardy maneuver to snatch the Hoshan aboard, and a well-liked member of the medical department had been seriously injured. Also, if it had taken just a few seconds longer to lock the transporters onto the Hoshan, or if the overload in the Hoshan ship's antimatter power generators had been induced at only a fractionally faster rate than Spock had calculated, it wouldn't have been just the Garcia woman who would have been injured. The entire Enterprise and everyone aboard would have been vaporized. And for what? To save the lives of four comparatively barbaric aliens who wanted nothing more than an instant death that allowed them to take as many non-Hoshan as possible with them.

  But then McCoy had patched Garcia up, and Kirk had gotten the aliens talking, leaving Crandall with nothing more than a litany of what-if's.

  Or so he had thought until the meeting today. After listening to McCoy's angry objections, he had begun to wonder if his plan to build a power base among the regular crew was the most effective alternative. He would have to study the other officers further, particularly the noncommittal Mr. Scott, who seemed more devoted to the Enterprise itself than to any human aboard it. It was obvious, however, that no love was lost between Kirk and his chief medical officer. McCoy's remarks, made on the record and before not only the other officers but Crandall himself, a civilian observer, were the sort that, in Crandall's mind, verged on open mutiny. He should have paid closer attention to the rift before, he told himself irritably. It had been there for him to see, if only he had paid attention, when the aliens were first being brought aboard. McCoy had openly defied Kirk then, too, in full hearing not only of other officers but of several members of the crew.

  And nothing had been done about it either time, which might say something about the captain, something that Crandall could find useful. A captain who was slow to clamp down on an officer who defied him might also be slow to clamp down on others who defied him. At first, remembering the way Kirk had had him forcibly removed from the bridge, Crandall had assumed that the captain was quick and calm in his decisions. But now he wondered if that first time could have been an anomaly, a panic reaction to the circumstances of the moment. Unable to cope with the distraction that Crandall had presented, Kirk had had the distraction removed. Even the "rescue" of the Hoshan could be seen in that light—a spur-of-the-moment action that had, despite a disastrous beginning, turned out to his advantage in the long run.

  And both incidents would, Crandall thought, fit his newly emerging image of Captain Kirk, an image that was almost diametrically opposed to what he had first believed. Kirk no longer seemed the carefree adventurer Crandall had first imagined him to be. Instead, he now appeared to Crandall to be as frightened as anyone else on board, himself included, and his command decisions had been bad—even disastrous—not because of any desire to play explorer but because Kirk was, under his artificially calm exterior, panicked out of his mind, grasping at whatever straws came within his reach. The first straw had been the gate itself, and when that had vanished, he had grasped at the even flimsier straw of the imaginary race that had "built" the gates.

  But then, when the Hoshan and their enemies had appeared, he had once again switched direction, though what he hoped to gain from his current course of action Crandall couldn't imagine. Now that he had managed to establish communications with the Hoshan, his course should have been obvious. He should have promised to help the Hoshan, not from the altruistic motives that the ship's doctor professed but from a simpler, more practical motive. If they helped the Hoshan, then the Hoshan would be in their debt, and virtually everyone on the Enterprise could, if they played their cards right, end up on the receiving end of more gratitude than they could use up in a lifetime.

  Kirk's fence-sitting act, however, could rob them of that chance forever.

  On the other hand, Crandall thought, perhaps Kirk's inability to make a decision to help the Hoshan was just the opportunity he himself could make the most of. If he could somehow turn the tables on Kirk, forcing him to do the sensible thing—or if he could at least be seen by the Hoshan as having forced Kirk to come to his senses…

  Yes, he thought with an almost invisible smile as he reached his stateroom, it did bear thinking about. However, despite his dislike for acting on the spur of the moment, he would also have to be constantly on the lookout for opportunity and be constantly ready to act, quickly and decisively. Considering the rate at which events were moving, he could well have only one chance, and he dared not pass it up.

  "Locked on, sir!" the voice crackled from the bridge intercom.

  "Seven-point-four seconds, Captain," Spock announced.

  K
irk frowned. "You're positive, Mr. Spock?"

  "Of course, Captain."

  "Of course," Kirk repeated, the frown altering into a rueful smile. "I gather that we may have reached the point of diminishing returns that you and Dr. McCoy warned me of."

  "Precisely."

  "Reached and passed it!" McCoy's gravelly voice snapped from behind the command chair where he stood. "The last ten simulations haven't varied as much as half a second."

  "Point taken, Bones. And Ensign McPhee did beat Scotty's best time by—what was it, Spock?"

  "One-point-two seconds, Captain."

  "We're as ready as we're ever going to be, Jim," McCoy said. "So unless you come to your senses and change your mind—"

  "Keptin!" Chekov's voice broke in. "Another ship, bearing one-twenty-seven, mark sixteen!"

  "Get it on the screen, Mr. Sulu," Kirk snapped. "Maximum magnification!"

  "Already done, sir," the helmsman acknowledged.

  "Mr. Spock, Hoshan or Destroyer?" The tiny dot on the screen was indistinguishable from the four it had replaced.

  "It matches neither profile perfectly, Captain. There are seven life forms on board, and it is traveling at warp one-point-eight."

  "Security," Kirk said, stabbing at the buttons on the arm of the command chair, "bring the Hoshan to the bridge, immediately!"

  "If it maintains its present course and speed," Spock said, correlating Chekov's readings with a dozen from his own instruments, "the new ship will be within sensor range of the Destroyer ships in approximately ten-point-six minutes, Captain."

  "Weapons, Mr. Spock?"

  "Similar to both Hoshan and Destroyer ships, Captain. The antimatter core, however, appears to be capable of greater output than either."

  "Dilithium crystals?"

  "Negative, Captain, simply a larger engine. The level of technology is no more advanced in this ship than in any other we have encountered here."

  "Lieutenant Uhura, any subspace radio activity?"