Mudd's Angels Page 7

  Mudd was sprawled on the lounge sofa. He had recovered consciousness, but his face was flushed. "Fever," said McCoy darkly, bending over him solicitously.

  Alice 1 obeyed orders; she observed the situation. She reached a conclusion. "He is malfunctioning."

  Grimly, McCoy corrected her. "He is dying."

  "If you take him to your sickbay, will he become repaired?"

  "Yes." Gathered round Mudd's deathbed, they waited for the android's answer.

  "No," said Uhura flatly. The other officers stared. She tossed her head and turned her back on them. "They're lying. The doctor injected something into Mudd to make him look sick. It's a trick—a trick to get back on board the ship, and sabotage it!"

  Alice 1 made further "observations." She noted the shock on the human faces around her, the baleful glances directed at the treacherous Uhura, Her badge glowed and darkened.

  "The request is refused."

  Kirk stepped angrily toward the beautiful Bantu, who backed off. "Why?" he choked.

  "I want an android body," said Uhura fiercely. "I want immortality. I can be young and beautiful forever, and I want it!"

  Kirk's voice was bitter. He turned to the Alice. "All right. We tried to trick you."

  "There will be no reprisals, Captain. We are not humanly vindictive."

  Uhura came closer, eagerly. "And your promise… You'll keep your promise? I'll get the body?"

  "Yes."

  "Now—I want it now!" breathed Uhura.

  Alice 1 seemed disconcerted by this human impatience. "Control Central is being prepared for transfer to the starship. It is—"

  "You made a commitment!" said Uhura, stamping her foot.

  "Yes. Yes." But this agreement was uncertain. The pendant again glowed and went dark. "The commitment is acknowledged and recorded." Alice 1 paused. "Programming for your body will begin immediately. The computer will complete programming before we leave."

  "Thank you," said Uhura, with a triumphant look at her colleagues.

  Without a backward glance, Alice 1 departed. Uhura looked a little anxiously at the others. They exchanged glances, and began to close in on her. She moved away, her hands in front of her, toward the door. Spock cut behind her, cutting off her escape. He reached the door, opened it cautiously, and peered out. He closed it, and nodded to Kirk, waiting near the cowering Uhura.

  Grinning delightedly, he gripped her shoulders. "Beautiful!"

  Uhura smiled. "I half believed it myself… Immortality. It has a nice sound…" She sighed.

  "A human mind would go mad in a robot body," said McCoy.

  Uhura shrugged. "What matters is that it worked."

  "And now the escape attempt the androids expected has been made," said Spock.

  "What's next?" said Chekov.

  "Next?" answered the Captain. "We're going to take the Alices on a trip through Wonderland!"

  Alice's adventures were to develop in the Throne Room. Kirk and Scott seated themselves on a step of the dais, while the two android girls stood guard. McCoy, idling near the door, began whistling a waltz, and his hands positioned themselves as though he held a fiddle.

  The door popped open, and Uhura swept into the room in the arms of Chekov. As they whirled to the music of the violin, Scotty—getting into the spirit of the thing—began to play the bagpipes.

  Alice 2 leaned over. "What are they doing, Captain?"

  "Celebrating," said Kirk, smiling and beating time.

  "What are they celebrating?" asked Alice 118.

  "Their captivity. Are you enjoying the music?"

  "Music." The Alices looked from McCoy, chin crushed against his imaginary fiddle, to Scott, mysteriously involved with his bagpipes. They turned to stare at the dancers, but they had stopped.

  Chekov, stepping back, bowed deeply to Uhura. "Thank you, lovely, lady," he purred, "You dance divinely."

  Uhura curtsied, dextrously managing her invisible long skirts. "Thank you, gentle sire." She rose gracefully, and slapped Chekov hard across the face.

  Chekov bowed again. "You are very beautiful today!" he bellowed.

  "Thank you, gentle sir!" Uhura yelled, hauling off to belt him another.

  "Why does she strike him?" asked Alice 2, urgently seeking enlightenment.

  "She likes him," said Kirk. He rose, calling. "Ensign Chekov! This is your captain speaking. Attention! Stand still!"

  Chekov dropped into a squat, his legs flying wildly in a mad kazatsky. "Hey!"

  "That's better," called Kirk.

  Alice 118 spoke. "This is illogical," she said.

  Kirk turned to her. "On the contrary, your statement is illogical."

  The number badges glowed brilliantly; the androids immobilized. A high-pitched humming came from somewhere inside them. Chekov, in mid-"Hey!", stopped at Kirk's signal and came over, panting slightly. The androids were motionless and silent.

  "It looks good," said Kirk. McCoy, taking a tricorder reading, nodded.

  "Completely inner-directed. Oblivious."

  "Ha!" said Kirk with satisfaction. "I wonder how Spock's doing?"

  He was doing very well. His deep, deep interest in workshop tapes had impressed Alice 27 and Alice 210. "Of course," he was saying, "Your computations would inevitably lead to total description of the parabolic intersection of dimension with dimension."

  "You are quite perceptive, Mister Spock," remarked Alice 27. "You possess a very logical and analytical mind."

  "Yes," said Spock. Gravely, he turned to Alice 27. "I love you," he said. He then turned to Alice 210. "But I hate you."

  "But I am identical in every way with Alice 27!"

  "Of course," said Spock. "That is why I hate you. Because you are identical."

  The two mechanical girls looked at each other, pendants aglow. They froze. Spock examined them with genuine interest.

  "Fascinating," he said to himself, and departed for the Throne Room.

  The Alices were still inert. McCoy was circling them, with tricorder open. "It certainly seems to have worked on these subordinate units. But that doesn't prove anything yet."

  Spock, entering, agreed. "We have been successfully pruning the leaves and branches; now it's time to get to work on the root."

  "High time," Kirk assented. "If Norman is the real control center for all of them, he should be already loaded down with what we have been doing so far. If we can double-bind the coordination center, we should immobilize all of them at one swoop. I hope. Everybody got their parts straight?"

  Mudd grinned. "Kirk, old man, I'm beginning to have more respect for you. If we get out of this, would you be interested in forming a partnership? I've got a few ideas—"

  "I'm sure you have, Harry. Let's go!"

  Norman was standing in the control center, his fingers on the electronic unit. The attendant Alices looked up as the group came in.

  "What do you want here?" said Norman.

  Kirk answered. "I want you all to surrender."

  "That is illogical. We are invulnerable. We are stronger."

  "No," said Kirk. "We are stronger. We shall prove it. Can you harm a human you are programmed to serve?"

  "No."

  "But you have harmed one, Norman, my lad," said Mudd.

  The badges glowed. Kirk, glancing at the others, gave an almost imperceptible nod. Mudd stepped forward, and assumed the stance of an orator.

  "We humans, you poor soulless creatures, we humans do not live by bread alone. We are nourished by Liberty!" A pudgy hand waved in a dramatic salute. "For what is Man without freedom? Naught but a handful of dust—gumming up the cogwheels of Eternity?"

  "Yes!" Kirk cried, passionately. "And you— all you offer us is well-being! As though food, drink and happiness meant anything to us. Don't you know we must work, we must be about our job, suffering pain and torment, labor without end, dying and crying and lamenting our burdens? Only in this way can we be happy!"

  The badges crimsoned. Norman seemed confused. "This… is… contradicto
ry… It is… not… logical… Mister Spock! Explain!"

  The android turned for succor to the only remaining rational being among the captives.

  Spock obliged. "Logic," he said didactically, "is a little purple bird chirping on a twig. Logic is a chaplet of pretty flowers that smells very bad… Are you sure that your circuits are functioning correctly?" He moved in for the final blow. "Your ears are turning green."

  The androids, paralyzed, hummed. And Scott came forward.

  "I am tired of happiness. I am weary of comforts and pleasures. I can't go on! Kill me! I am ready!" He threw his arms wide, baring his breast for the knife.

  Obliging, the others cocked their index fingers at his waiting chest. They whistled. Scott clutched his rib cage and fell, with a last long moan. "Ooohhhhh!" He writhed. He twitched. He agonized. As he finally subsided, an Alice lurched to one side and did not straighten up.

  A grinding noise came from Norman. "You. Cannot. Have. Killed. Him… You. Have. No. Weapons."

  Kirk fell to his knees beside the prostrate Scott. "Poor Mister Scott. He had too much happiness. Now that he's gone, he will be truly happy. We shall miss him." He rose, and confronting his officers, said solemnly, "Let's hear it for our dead friend!"

  Wild paroxysms of laughter filled the room. At a tiny signal from Kirk, they stopped short. Kirk struck an heroic pose.

  "What is Man but that lofty spirit, that sense of daring, that devotion to duty to what cannot be sensed, cannot be deduced but only dreamed? The highest Reality! I thank you!"

  "That. Is. Irrational." Norman whispered unevenly. "Il-log-i-cal. Dreamzz are. Not. Re-al-i-ty." The other Alice whirred, frozen.

  Mudd snapped his fingers. "I guess it must be done. Spock, the explosive."

  Reaching under his tunic, Spock withdrew a handful of air. He molded it with care. "Please be cautious, Mister Mudd," he said. "I wouldn't want you to drop it." He pulled back an arm, wound up for the pitch and hurled the air to Mudd. Mudd leaped, reaching above his head.

  "Watch out!" McCoy yelled, covering his head with his arms.

  "Got it!" shouted Mudd.

  Norman weaved, glassy-eyed, as he stared at them. Mudd slammed the ball of air on the computer. As McCoy moved over toward him, he extended his hand.

  "Detonator," he said. McCoy handed him— nothing. Mudd carefully attached it to the air ball.

  "Fuse." Again McCoy handed him nothing, a small one. It too was gingerly attached.

  "Primer." But the explosive was not yet fully prepared.

  "Mashie." He got one.

  "Niblick." He got that, too.

  "But. There is. No. Explosive." said Norman.

  "No?" said Kirk. "Observe. Harry, detonate!"

  The Enterprise officers cringed, anticipating the blast. Mudd pushed the plunger. "Boom!" shouted everybody at once, and fell to the floor, arms over their heads.

  Norman lurched. "B-b-but There. Was. No. Ex-. Plo-. Sion."

  Mudd shrugged. "I lied."

  "Harry's a liar," said Kirk. "Whatever he tells you is a lie. Understand, Norman? Whatever he tells you is a lie."

  Mudd grinned. "Listen carefully, Norman. I am lying."

  "You. Say. You. Are. Ly-ing. But. If. Everything. You. Say. You. Say. Is. A. Lie. Then. You Are. Tell-ing. The Truth. But. You. Can't tell thetruthbecauseeverything. You sayisalie. But. If. You. Liethatyoulieyoutellthetruth but. You cannot. Foryou 1-i-e."

  Little curls of smoke were drifting from Norman's ears. "Illogical. Illogicalilloglcalillogical. Explain. You… are… humans. Only… humans… can… ex… plain… please… behavior… ex… plain… ex… plain…"

  Kirk strode up to him. With a certain glee, he said, "I am not programmed to respond in that area."

  There was a harsh, grating sound. A puff of smoke issued from Norman's nostrils. He stumbled to one side, and his badge faded. He crashed heavily to the floor. Spock hurried to the door and looked out. "They're all immobilized!"

  "Pity," said Scott, dusting himself off. "They could have been so useful."

  "I've an idea about that, Scotty." Kirk turned to look at the grinning Mudd.

  The grin wavered. "Why are you looking at me like that, Captain? Kirk, Kirk, old friend, now let's just talk this over—"

  Kirk smiled, showing his teeth. "Bones, Spock, let's get out of here."

  They stepped over the fallen androids, and made their way to the Throne Room.

  McCoy paused at the doorway. "You must be very unhappy, Spock."

  "Unhappy, Doctor? Why should I be unhappy?"

  "We found a whole world of minds that work just like yours. Logical, unemotional, completely pragmatic—and we poor, irrational humans beat them in a fair fight. Now you'll be back among us illogical humans again. What a pity!"

  "It pleases me greatly, doctor. Nowhere am I so desperately needed as among a shipload of your species."

  "Touché for Spock, Bones!" said Kirk, laughing.

  Outraged and red in the face, Mudd burst into the Throne Room. "What's this I hear about me having to stay here?" Two Alices followed him.

  "Harry," said Kirk, "You are paroled to the custody of the android population of this planet"

  Spock nodded. "We have already effected repairs and reprogramming on a number of the androids, Mister Mudd. They, in turn, will repair others."

  Mudd glared at Spock. "But if they're fixed, we're right back where we started!"

  "No. Part of the original purpose of their presence here was lost when they lost their Makers. They were to begin adapting the planet's surface for productive use. They will begin that work again."

  "But what do I do? I'm no farmer."

  "No, you're an—irritant, Harry." Kirk smiled. "You'll stay here to give the androids a first-class example of human failure. They'll learn to avoid other humans like you in the future."

  "How long?" asked Mudd, crestfallen.

  "As long as you remain an irritant. It's up to you, Harry."

  Mudd straightened his shoulders, as he looked at the Alices. "Well, I suppose I can manage… what with one thing and another. At least I'm in touch with the galaxy again." He moved closer to an Alice. "As detention sentences go, this one isn't uncomfortable…"

  Kirk turned, and started toward the door. "Oh, yes, one thing more. We've had a special android attendant programmed to take care of your personal needs," he said over his shoulder. "It may give you an incentive to work with the androids instead of exploiting them."

  Mudd smirked. "Now that's unexpectedly civilized of you, Captain." The smirk suddenly vanished.

  Stella, grim-jawed and uncompromising, emerged from a side door. "Harcourt Fenton Mudd, what have you been up to?" it screeched. "Answer me!"

  "Shut up!" said Mudd frantically. She didn't, Her thin lips tightened over her buck teeth.

  From another door, another Stella stalked out, black dress stiffly swaying, arms folded. "You miserable, conniving—out all night again!"

  "Shut up!" shrieked Mudd, cowering. "Shut up, I order it!"

  "Harcourt Fenton Mudd, you've been overeating !" screeched yet another Stella.

  "And drinking!"

  "You need my supervision!"

  "You always did!"

  "I can see I've got my work cut out for me!" chorused Stellas, emerging from all sides.

  "Kirk! You can't do this to me! It's inhuman!" Mudd started at Kirk, standing by the door with his officers. Two Stellas caught him, and lifted him by the elbows; his feet scrabbled frantically in mid-air.

  "Captain!" he wailed. "You wouldn't!" Stella 600 smiled grimly. "You don't know what you're doing!"

  Kirk looked back at him, and grinned.

  "Good-bye, Harry. Have fun."

  PART III

  THE BUSINESS, AS USUAL, DURING ALTERCATIONS by J. A. Lawrence

  STAR DATES 6273.6-6063.5

  CHAPTER ONE

  Captain's log, Star date 6273.6; Top priority message from Star Fleet Command reporting abnormal shortfall in deliveries of dilith
ium crystals to starbase fueling depots. All Class 1 Starships abort non-emergency missions and investigate. Possible Condition Red.

  Accordingly, I have canceled the expedition to the Aldebaran Sector and we are heading for the planet Muldoon, the nearest dilithium source to our present position.

  Chief Engineer Scott frowned over the printout message. "This could be vurra serious, Captain."

  "Command seems to think it already is, Scotty. Mister Spock, prepare a chart of registered dilithium producing planets; we'll have to prepare ourselves for a systematic inquiry." Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise regretfully put aside the charts of the Aldebaran area.

  "Immediately, Captain." The Vulcan First Officer glanced up. "It is an odd coincidence that this shortage should occur just as the new starship fleet is going into service and the demand for crystals becomes pressing."

  "What do you mean, Mister Spock?"

  "Just noting the coincidence, Captain."

  "The Klingons!" said Sulu. "They've developed a dilithium-eating virus!"

  The Captain sighed. "Mister Spock, I must request that you control your imagination in front of the younger officers. Some of us are a little inclined to jump at interpretations."

  "I merely remarked a coincidence, Captain," replied Spock coolly. "I have no imagination to indulge."

  "Of course not, Mister Spock."

  "But Mister Sulu's hypothesis is not beyond possibility, though improbable. Your charts, Captain."

  Sulu, embarrassed, said, "I didn't really—"

  "Never mind, Mister Sulu. Just get us into standard orbit around the mining planet as fast as you can."

  In position orbiting Muldoon, Kirk studied the planetary analysis. An M-type planet, just barely; low rainfall, high winds, high temperatures… "Any personnel records, Spock?"

  A cadre of twenty miners had been shipped out four years earlier. The plant itself was, of course, largely automatic. "They were volunteers?"

  "Yes, Captain. And quite well paid."

  "It's still a pretty bleak place to live. Anything else, Spock?"

  "Apparently not, sir. Readings are within the normal ranges for the men and equipment."