Mudd's Angels Page 4

  A downcast Scott lingered beside him. "Sorry, Scotty," said Kirk. "Just how much power do we have left?"

  Mollified, Scott said, "About five hours, sir." Mudd was wringing his hands. Kirk observed his efforts to stay out of the way, and to his surprise felt a stab of pity. Even though Mudd's crazy actions were responsible for this whole mess, he was really suffering. The frantic fat man seemed to have dwindled in his shabby uniform.

  Childress had found Eve. He was carrying her limp body when he at last saw the dim light of his hut. Every muscle in his body ached from his long battle with raging winds and sand. He felt sick with fatigue as he staggered to his door, and shoved it open with his shoulder. Inside, he dumped the barely breathing girl on the crude bed, and collapsed into sleep on the floor.

  She stirred. Opening her eyes, she sat up painfully, looking at the room. The floor was deep in sand, and the door was still open. More sand was blowing over the heaps of dirty clothing, tumbled piles of papers, and into the corners already knee-deep in grit. She groped her way to her feet, holding the furniture for support, and managed to reach the door. It took all her remaining strength to force it closed against the wind, and stagger back to the bed.

  What passed for dawn had come when Childress awoke. He yawned, scratching his chest. Then, sitting up, he scowled as he saw his room.

  Sand had been swept out. Trousers were neatly arranged on a stone chair. The bed was neatly made up, and on it lay folded shirts and sweaters. He heard metal rattling against metal. The blonde woman stood at his excuse for a stove, preparing breakfast.

  He got stiffly to his feet. "I had things where I wanted them," he grumbled.

  She didn't turn. "I'm eating your food. I paid for it with some chores."

  He pushed her away from the stove. "And I do my own cook — hell!" He had touched the hot pan. He snatched his burned hand away and swore in mingled pain and irritation. She went on cooking.

  "And I've not laid a hand on you," he said angrily. "Remember that!"

  "Travel half across the galaxy," she said, "and male ego still sings the same old song. You want to eat or talk?" She put the plate in front of him.

  "I suppose I'm to smack my lips, roll my eyes to heaven and say, 'Oh, female cooking again?'" She ignored him. He began to eat. After the first swallow, he said, "I've had better. By my own hand."

  "Yes — you're tasting some of it. There are at least three layers of your leavings I couldn't scrub out of that pan."

  He glared. "Find me some decent water. Then you can talk."

  "If you hung your pans out in the wind, the sand would blast them clean. Or hadn't you thought of that?"

  The suggestion surprised him. It also increased his annoyance.

  Their breakfast was a subject of discussion aboard the lamely orbiting Enterprise. Childress’ was wolfing the last mouthful as Spock looked up from his console. "A power unit of some kind has been in operation down there, Captain. Something small — a domestic unit, heat-producing."

  "That signal came from Childress' hut!" said Sulu.

  Kirk left his command chair. "Have Mister Mudd sent to the Transporter Room."

  "Mudd?" said Spock, inquiringly.

  Kirk said from the elevator entrance, "Yes, the name of this game, Spock."

  In the still-whipping sand outside his hut, Childress was stringing a line. When he had suspended a couple of pans from it, he surveyed them doubtfully. Then, shaking his head, he muttered, "It just might work."

  As he opened the door, Eve was sitting at a rock-slab table laying out cards from an odd-sized deck. She didn't speak; and Childress, baffled, wandered the room for a moment before he decided to look over her shoulder.

  "Solitaire?"

  "Double-Jack."

  "Red eight ought to go on that black nine."

  "Not in double-Jack."

  "You're not only plain as an old bucket," he shouted, "you're not even good company! What the devil happened to your looks, anyway?"

  "I got tired of you," she said, not looking up. "I slumped."

  He kicked the rock chair. Wincing, he rubbed his foot. It was her fault. Everything was her fault—everything from his sore toe to the strange new look of his home. He grabbed her angrily and hauled her out of the chair. "You hear what I said? You're homely! I've got enough crystals to buy me queens! By the gross! And you won't even speak—"

  Kirk opened the door. Childress backed away. "I haven't touched her, Kirk!"

  The girl looked from one to the other. She reseated herself and resumed her game.

  Mudd, pushing inside, said, "You found her out there?"

  "Yes, I did. And she's been bubbling with gratitude ever since," said Childress.

  "Harry. Tell him now," said Kirk sternly.

  "Ah, Captain, have a heart."

  "The Venus drug, Harry," prompted Kirk, tapping his foot.

  Eve jumped up, scattering the cards, her hand to her mouth. Childress stared from Kirk to Mudd. "The Venus drug," he said slowly. "I've heard of it. But I thought it was just one of those stories."

  "It exists," Kirk said, with an eye on Mudd. "Illegally."

  "Actually," Mudd began, "It's a relatively harmless—"

  "Harmless?" cried Eve.

  Under Kirk's waiting eye, Mudd pulled out the packet from somewhere in his clothing, and resignedly showed the oddly shaped tablets to Childress. "It breaks down to this," he said. "Whatever you've got, the drug gives you more of it. Men get more muscular, women rounder; men get more aggressive, women more feminine. And so on and on…"

  "He gave this stuff to the women before you saw them," said Kirk.

  The big man's fury exploded in a bellow. "What's happened to my partners?"

  "They're married, Ben. Sub-space radio marriage."

  Childress lunged at Mudd. Kirk intervened, a hand on the miner's thick shoulder. "It's fraud, Childress. They can get out of it—if they want to."

  Raging, Childress turned on Eve. "Why?"

  Mudd moved nervously in front of her. "You can't blame the women, when it was me who—"

  Childress shoved him aside. "I can. A man goes out, fights, almost dies—we all almost died… and now that we finally get the good life in our hands, you bring us women for wives that…

  "You don't want wives!" Eve yelled. She confronted Childress, her eyes blazing. "What you want is this!" She snatched the packet from Mudd's hand. "Here's what you want, Mister Childress!" The pill went between her colorless lips and she swallowed.

  It was as if Midas had touched her; the golden glow rose in her skin, her hair began to gleam, her bosom to lift and swell. "And I hope you’ll dream about this—because you can't have it! It isn't real!" Seductive, compelling, she lifted her clear, hypnotic eyes to the dazed Childress.

  "Is this what you want in a wife, Ben? Not a woman to love you and help you—no, you don’t want that! Not a mate to cook and sew and cry and need you—but this kind… vain, selfish, useless! Then here she is." She posed, preening herself.

  Ben stared at her, speechless. Kirk said, "Quite a woman, Childress. Don't you agree?"

  "A fake. Pumped up by a drug."

  "No. By herself. She took no drug."

  Eve dropped her pose and exclaimed. "But I swallowed it!"

  "Colored gelatin," Kirk said, smiling.

  Mudd nodded. "They took my drug and replaced it"

  The woman, looking down at herself, was quiet. Then, she looked from one to the other of the men. Slowly she became aware that she didn't feel quite the same as she had before— under the drug. Kirk was charming, and compassionate. She gave him a smile of special… tenderness, not seduction. And Mudd—an absurd rogue; so clumsy in his mischief. And the big miner, proud of his appalling domestic arrangements and dreaming of buying queens. She grinned with real delight. She loved them all.

  The Captain was smiling at her. "There's only one kind of desirable woman, Eve—the one who knows she's Woman."

  She winked at him.

  He tur
ned to Ben Childress. "Now, sir, I've gone as far with you as I intend to. I want those dilithium crystals and I want them now," He opened his communicator. "Enterprise, this is Kirk."

  "Spock here, Captain."

  "Stand by." He faced Children. "Do I bring down a search party?"

  Confused and shaken, with his eyes on Eve— who had relaxed into neither glamorous siren nor frump, but something in between, something comfortable—Childress said, "No. The crystals are here, and you're welcome to them."

  "We'll be beaming aboard—with the dilithium, Spock, stand by."

  They all heard Scott's "Whew!" and then Spock's "How many, Captain?"

  Uncertain, Eve looked at Ben. For a brief space he hesitated. Then he said, "Eve'll stay. For the day at least. We want to talk."

  Mudd was peering through a scarred window. "Rather go to prison," he said, "than live in this forgotten hole." He turned his jowled, tired face to Kirk. "On second thought, maybe not. Could you see your way clear to leaving me behind, Captain? This place would be punishment enough."

  "Two of us, Mister Spock." Kirk closed his communicator. "I can't leave you here, Harry, but I'll appear at your trial as a character witness— if that will help."

  Mudd threw up his hands. "They'll throw away the key to my cell!"

  The Enterprise, crystals in place at last, was heading out. McCoy, at Kirk's side, said, "Quite a talk you must have had down there. Ever consider going into the snake-oil business! That's patent medicine to you, Spock."

  "Why work your side of the street?" said Kirk lightly. "Something wrong, Mister Spock?"

  "No, Captain. I'm just glad the affair is over. A most incomprehensible and annoying emotional episode."

  McCoy hit his chest "Right smack in the old heart." He eyed Spock, and then punched himself in the lower abdomen. "Sorry. In your case, about here."

  Unruffled, the Vulcan said, "The fact that my internal arrangements differ from yours, doctor, pleases me exceedingly."

  Kirk grinned. It was good to be home again.

  "Out of orbit, sir," said Farrell.

  "Ahead full."

  "Ahead full, Captain," Sulu said.

  PART II

  I, MUDD by Stephen Kandel

  STAR DATE 4513.3

  DOCTOR McCoy was fuming. "Am I this ship's Chief Medical Officer, or am I not?" he demanded of Spock. "This lieutenant has broken two appointments I've set for his physical exam—and no reason can I get out of him!" He stomped across the bridge. "There's something wrong with a man who never smiles, whose conversation never varies from his job routine and who refuses to talk about his background!"

  "He's probably frightened of your beads and rattles," said Spock, unsmiling.

  Glaring at him, McCoy tramped into the elevator. Spock looked after him. Was it amusement that he permitted to elevate his left eyebrow by a centimeter?

  As to the subject of McCoy's ire, he was leaving the elevator on a lower deck. He was tall and straight, but his handsome features lost some of their appeal to an excessive regularity. He strode purposefully toward the Auxiliary Control Room at the end of the corridor. Its heavy door confronted him with "NO UNAUTHORIZED ADMISSION." The Lieutenant glanced around him. He opened the door on a large room lined with computer data banks, panels, consoles.

  A technician looked up, frowning. "Command personnel only, sir. You can't come in here." The Lieutenant did not even blink. He reached the technician in two steps, and placing his thumb and forefinger on the startled man's carotid artery, he squeezed. As soon as his struggles ceased, the Lieutenant lowered him to the deck, and went to work on the controls with concentrated, expert speed. A light blinked frantically; an alarm sounded. He shut them off. Then a readout panel came alive with the flash of warning lights, spelling out the words: OVERLOAD. DANGER.

  The tall Lieutenant regarded them with emotionless satisfaction.

  Sulu's console gave the first hint of something amiss. Alarmed, he called to Kirk. "Captain, there's an unplanned course change being fed into the instruments!"

  "Correct it, Mister Sulu." For a moment, Kirk watched the helmsman vainly try to obey his order. He punched a button on the command console. "Auxiliary Control, this is the Captain. What's going on down there?"

  There was no reply. Sulu cried, "Auxiliary Control is on total override, sir! I can't make the correction!"

  Kirk quickly summoned Security. "Intruder Alert, deck eight, Auxiliary control." As soon as he had received their acknowledgment, he asked Sulu, "What is the imposed course?"

  "Turning to 307 degrees Mark eight, sir. Being executed now."

  And indeed, the main viewing screen was already showing the lateral movement of stars as the ship turned.

  Kirk's intercom sounded. "Security here, Lieutenant Rowe, sir. I'm in Auxiliary Control. Ensign Jordan has been knocked unconscious—he'll be all right, though. But the directional master controls, sir—they've been mangled! They're totally unworkable."

  "Any sign of the intruder?"

  "No, sir. He's gone. I've put out a full security alert on all decks."

  "Very well. Carry on. Kirk out." He swung round toward the Helmsman. "Mister Sulu, cut in Emergency Manual Monitor. I want that override broken."

  Again Sulu wrestled with his recalcitrant console. "My instruments won't respond, sir."

  Kirk called to Engineering. "Scotty, an intruder may be in your area. Rig a force field to prevent entry."

  "Aye, sir."

  It was too late. The anomalous Lieutenant had already slipped into the section of Engineering that housed the Emergency Manual Monitor. He silently disposed of another technician as Kirk's voice came through the intercom. "Emergency Manual Monitor, report!" He didn't turn his head. Instead, he moved soundlessly through the door to where Scott and an assistant were setting up the force field. Scott glanced up.

  "Here!" he shouted. "You're not allowed to—"

  He was slammed up against a wall communicator with a force that knocked the breath out of him. He hauled himself to his feet, grasping at the intercom. "The intruder is—" His words choked off.

  Kirk heard the heavy sound of his fall. "Scotty! Scotty!"

  The engineering assistant had seized a thick metal bar, and managed to catch the Lieutenant squarely on his handsome head. The Lieutenant didn't even blink; with the edge of his hand he tapped the assistant gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder. The man crumpled without a sound. The Lieutenant shoved him carefully aside with a foot, and moving to the main control panels, flipped every switch to "FULL AHEAD." He then quickly removed a unit panel; as its intricate wiring was forcefully ripped out, there was a rising sound of increased power. The Lieutenant, hearing this, left Engineering at super-speed.

  Sulu stared at his console. "Captain, we're picking up speed! Warp five. No, six… Warp seven now, sir!"

  "Cut power, Mister Sulu I"

  "I can't, sir, the controls are jammed!" Sulu was sweating with the fruitless effort to move the switches on his panel.

  "Security!" said Kirk tightly, through the intercom. "The intruder is in Engineering Section. All units converge!"

  "That will not be necessary, Captain." A cold, even voice cut in. The Lieutenant stepped out of the elevator.

  Kirk rose. "Belay that, Mister Sulu. All right, Lieutenant—"

  "Norman." Spock supplied the name.

  "Mister Norman, have the kindness to tell me what this is all about."

  There was no flicker of expression on the too-handsome face. "I am in total control of your ship, Captain. I have connected the matter-antimatter pods to the main navigational banks. A trigger relay is now operational. Any attempt to change course will result in the immediate destruction of your vessel."

  There was something about the extraordinary Lieutenant that made his preposterous claims credible. Kirk strode to the computer station, his jaw muscles hard. "Mister Spock?"

  "Confirmed, Captain. He has removed all override controls. If we tamper without knowing where that t
rigger relay is, we could extinguish ourselves."

  Kirk wheeled on Norman. "Who are you?"

  "I assure you we are no threat to humanity." There was a brief nod toward Spock. "Nor to humanoid life. We simply require your ship."

  "So you 'require' my ship, do you? Who, or what, are we?"

  Norman hesitated. Then he lifted his shirt and opened a flap in his solar plexus, revealing complex transistorized wiring.

  The sight chilled Kirk. "An android!" he said slowly.

  Spock was examining the mechanism with interest. "A most sophisticated one, Captain."

  Norman replaced his shirt. "I control the trigger relay, Captain. I cannot be overcome by physical means, and if you attempt to use your phasers, the relay will be activated.

  "We shall continue on our present course for approximately four Solar Days. At that time we shall arrive at our destination. Please believe we mean you no harm."

  "I ask you again, who is this 'we' you speak of? Who sent you?"

  "I am not programmed to respond in this area."

  "Lieutenant" Norman then froze into absolute stillness. What had seemed to be life was drained from his unwinking eyes. Kirk snapped his fingers, close to the android's face. The eyes stared ahead, motionless. He gave the figure a slight push with his hand; its heavy weight did not budge.

  "Well, Mister Spock?"

  "He appears to have turned himself off, Captain. And since we cannot repair the damage he's done without destroying the ship—"

  "It would seem," Kirk said, "that we're going to take a little trip."

  For the next four days, people warily circled the immobile presence on the bridge as they went about their errands. The blank-eyed, good-looking face stared disquietingly; the tall body in its Enterprise uniform seemingly inanimate.

  The ship entered an uncharted quadrant; and slowed. As it dropped to sub-light speed, Norman stirred. He said, "Activate your main viewing screen, Captain."

  Kirk nodded to Lieutenant Uhura. "Aye, sir."

  Norman spoke again. "At this point I am programmed to inform you that we will enter orbit around our planet in seven-point-four solar minutes."

  What looked like a barren ball of rock had appeared on the screen. Norman's eyes were on it He turned briskly to Kirk. "The following individuals will transport down to our planet: Captain, Science Officer, Medical Officer, Communications Officer, Navigator."