THE DOOR TO the captain's quarters opened to reveal a puffy-eyed James Kirk.
"Oh, my," said Dr. McCoy. "I tell you to get some sleep and then I come wake you up."
"I was awake, Bones. Come on in."
McCoy stepped inside. "Did you get any sleep?"
"Yes, several hours, in fact. Something up?"
"I wanted to tell you that most of the Holox poison victims are on their feet again and functioning, to a degree. Our people are starting to beam back up."
"Good. How's Dorelian doing?"
"She'll be all right—I want to keep her here one more day. She's starting to come to terms with the fact that she'll never see Zirgos again. It's going to be rough, but she'll make it."
Kirk massaged the back of his neck. "I feel bad about having had to tell her. I wish there was something I could do to help."
"Time is what she needs, Jim. Just give her time."
Kirk nodded and turned to the intercom. "Captain to bridge."
"Spock here," came the answer.
"Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy tells me the poison victims on Holox are pretty much recovered and getting back to normal."
"I am heartily glad to hear that, Captain."
"Contact Holox and find out who's in authority now. Tell them we have one of the poisoners for them. Then instruct Lieutenant Berengaria to beam down with, ah, what's his name, ev Symwid—and turn him over to the appropriate Holox officials."
"Understood, Captain."
"Kirk out."
"You're going to let the Zirgosian colonists try him?" McCoy asked.
"It seems only fair, since it was the Zirgosians he poisoned. It could be considered a Federation matter—ev Symwid was acting as an agent for the Sackers. But Starfleet Command likes to turn these matters back to local authorities whenever it can."
McCoy grinned. "Besides, you don't want to be bothered with him."
"Right," Kirk laughed. "The Zirgosians are a humane people. They'll deal with him fairly."
McCoy was silent for a moment. Then he brought up the question that was really on his mind: "What are you going to do about Scotty?"
Kirk exhaled sharply. "I'm going to make one more attempt at contacting the Sackers. I wanted to give Uhura as much time as possible with the Sacker language, but something tells me I'd better not wait any longer. Coming?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," McCoy replied. In the turbolift on the way up, he asked, "What if they still don't answer?"
"Then we'll have to apply a little pressure."
On the bridge Uhura and Chekov were still compiling a Sacker vocabulary. Sulu was off duty, but Mr. Spock was studying the results of Uhura and Chekov's efforts. Kirk watched and listened for a minute until he got the hang of what they were doing. Then he said, "Lieutenant, if we should get a reply in the Sacker language, could you translate it?"
"It would be difficult, Captain," Uhura answered. "The words are easy enough, but the syntax and grammar are still a bit of a mystery."
"Let's give it a try. Cover your ears." She did. Kirk picked up the isolated mike and said, "I feel angry."
Sacker word-approximations appeared on the screen. Uhura studied them with a puzzled expression and translated, "'I feel full of fire'?"
"Close enough," Kirk said wryly. "It's time we sent the Sackers a message in their own language."
"It will have to be visual only, Captain. I don't know how these words are pronounced."
"Visual will do. Blank the screen, please." Uhura cleared the Sacker words. Kirk spoke into the mike. "This is the Enterprise, calling the Sacker ship. You have killed one of our crew and grievously injured another. Two more are missing. You are also responsible for the mass poisoning of the Zirgosian colonists. We demand you account for your actions, and we further demand a meeting for the purpose of negotiation. If these demands are not met, we will open fire on the structure you have erected on the surface of Holox. Respond immediately." He switched off the mike. "Send that, Lieutenant."
Spock said, "You are not telling them we know of the baryon reverter, Captain?"
"Best not to show all our hand at once, Mr. Spock."
Spock thought a moment. "Ah. Poker."
"Are you really going to fire on that Sacker blister?" McCoy asked. "Scotty may be alive in there!"
"We'll lay down a ring of fire around the blister first. That may be enough to catch their attention."
"Light-impulse message coming in," Uhura said excitedly.
All talk ceased as every eye on the bridge was trained on the screen. Uhura's sketchy knowledge of the Sacker language was not needed; the message was in English.
AGREE TO MEETING WITH SHIP'S CAPTAIN NAVIGATOR AND COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER ONE KILOMETER DUE EAST OF DOME IN ONE HOLOX HOUR NO WEAPONS NO OTHER CREW
"No other crew!" McCoy said. "Do they think we're fools?"
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said, "how long is a Holox hour?"
"About forty-five of our minutes, Captain."
"And no weapons?" McCoy went on. "Jim, they're making the conditions impossible!"
"Only if we obey them, Bones. Lieutenant Uhura, tell Security to have twenty men in the transporter room as soon as possible. Notify Mr. Kyle where we'll be beaming down and then join us there. Mr. Chekov, the Sackers desire your presence."
"Hold it!" McCoy roared. Kirk glared at him. "Hold it … sir. You're not really going down there? They'll roast you alive! Remember what they did to Franklin? Don't do it—don't go."
"I don't have any choice. But we don't have to go when the Sackers tell us to." He told Chekov to go on down to the transporter room. "Bones, listen. We'll beam down now instead of waiting forty-five minutes. That'll give us enough time to stake out the place. Twenty armed men in concealment should give us an edge."
"Unless they've already got thirty armed Sackers hiding down there," McCoy muttered. "There's something else too. Let's get on the lift."
Spock stepped into the turbolift with them. "Captain, request permission to—"
"Denied, Spock. You're definitely staying here. We can't let the Sackers get a crack at both of us."
"Then allow me to meet them in your place, and you stay on the Enterprise. I could present myself as the ship's commander."
"Won't work. Our first messages to them were visual as well as audible—they know what I look like."
Spock had been hoping he wouldn't remember that. "Jim, I urge you to proceed with caution."
"Count on it," Kirk said grimly.
"There's something you may be overlooking, Jim," McCoy pointed out. "Uhura. Have you forgotten her childhood traumatic experience with fire? And if fire is the Sackers' natural weapon, she's about the last person you should be sending down there."
Before Kirk could answer, Spock said, "Unfortunately, Lieutenant Uhura is the only one of us with even a rudimentary knowledge of the Sacker language. Her services could prove invaluable."
The turbolift came to a stop and the three men stepped out into a corridor of G Deck. "What about Chekov?" Kirk asked.
"He knows a great many of the words," Spock admitted, "but it is Lieutenant Uhura who has been studying the language's syntax. If you find yourself in a position in which you need linguistic assistance, it will have to come from her."
McCoy shook his head. "It's a hell of a thing to ask of her. Jim, Uhura's afraid of fire almost to the point of incapacitation—and she has been for over twenty years. She's getting a handle on it, but she's not there yet. You put her in a situation where the Sackers are likely to start shooting flames at you and there's no telling what she'll do."
"It all comes down to how far you trust her," Spock said, "whether you take her with you or not."
The situation had an all-too-familiar ring to it, Kirk thought. How many times had the three of them stood like this, in a corridor of the Enterprise—Kirk with a decision to make, McCoy advising one thing, Spock another. It all comes down to how far you trust her, Spock had said.
"She's coming with me," Kirk announced.
They headed down the corridor toward the transporter room, where they found Lieutenant Berengaria waiting for them outside the door. "Sir," she greeted the captain.
"Berengaria," Kirk said. "Did you find someone on Holox to surrender ev Symwid to?"
"Yes, sir. The surviving Zirgosians have formed a pro-tem governing committee, and they were more than happy to take the Gelchenite off my hands."
"I'll bet they were," McCoy muttered.
"Sir, can you tell us what to expect down on the surface?"
"Angry Sackers. Spock, fill her in, please." Kirk hurried into the transporter room, trailed by McCoy. Chekov was standing on the transporter platform, ready to beam down; Berengaria's security people were milling about, filling the area to near-capacity. Transporter Chief Kyle was taking phasers out of the arms locker. "Chekov, get down off that platform," Kirk called out, picking up his phaser and communicator from Kyle. "Security is beaming down first."
The navigator stepped down just as Spock and Berengaria came in; the latter headed straight toward Kirk. "May I have your communicator, sir." Kirk gave it to her. "I'm activating your distress beacon, silent mode. That way Mr. Kyle will be able to track you if we don't prove to be enough protection."
"You're saying we need more security?"
"Let me check out the beamdown point first. I'll be able to tell better when I've seen the place. But don't lose your communicator, sir." She was very emphatic about that. "Don't let it out of your possession for a minute. Do you understand?"
"I think so," Kirk smiled. "Don't take too long, Lieutenant. We're under a time limit."
"Right." She hurried to the transporter platform, snapping out orders as she went. Kyle started beaming the security people down, six at a time.
Kirk felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Spock looking concerned. "Jim, a suggestion. Keep your thumb on the emergency signal button of your communicator. I intend to remain here with Mr. Kyle, in case you need to make a precipitous departure. Do not wait to verify any suspicion you might have. Press the button immediately."
Kirk smiled at his old friend. "I'm not going to take any chances, Spock—don't worry. I shall be the epitome of caution and discretion."
"That's something I'd like to see," McCoy said dryly.
"Now, Bones. We'll have to talk to the Sackers from some distance anyway—the smell, remember. If they get too close, I have a feeling we'll all be beaming up mighty fast."
"This is a mistake, Jim," McCoy insisted. "You shouldn't be going at all."
"It is essential that we meet with the Sackers, Doctor," Spock pointed out. "They and only they hold the solution to the problem of how to stop the advancing heat front. If these are the only conditions under which they are willing to meet, then we have no choice but to accept them. With our own modifications, of course."
McCoy was working himself into a state. "It's wrong, I tell you," he snarled. "Something will go wrong. I … I feel it in my bones!"
Spock raised an eyebrow. McCoy glared at him belligerently, daring him to say something, ready to take on the entire crew of the Enterprise if necessary. Spock remained silent.
So did Captain James T. Kirk.
The transporter room door opened and Lieutenant Uhura walked in. She started to say something but noticed the dour looks on her shipmates' faces and thought better of it. She collected phaser and communicator and moved over to stand with Chekov, who greeted her by laying one finger against his lips. Transporter Chief Kyle found something urgent to busy himself with in the field equipment locker.
Almost ten minutes passed before Lieutenant Berengaria called in. Kirk stepped over to the control pod. "What's it like down there?"
"No Sackers in sight, sir. We can see their blister dome, and it's radiating heat we can feel from here. We're in an open area—not much cover, a few rocks and bushes."
"More security?"
"No, sir, there's no place for them to conceal themselves. We'll have to make do with what we have."
"Wonderful!" McCoy said through clenched teeth.
"Captain, we're in position now," Berengaria said. "You can beam down when ready."
Kirk waved an arm at Uhura and Chekov. "We're as ready as we'll ever be. Let's go."
The three positioned themselves on the transport pads. At the last moment Kirk thought of Lieutenant Berengaria's warning and slipped his communicator inside his tunic. "Energize, Mr. Kyle," he said.
Berengaria had posted a lookout about halfway to the Sacker dome, behind a small rise in the land, the only cover in the immediate area. So far the Sackers hadn't left their dome yet, if it was those Sackers they'd be meeting instead of the ones on the ship. She should have time to brief Captain Kirk as to where the members of her team were concealed.
The bushes hadn't proved much help—too thin and scraggly. They'd uprooted a number of them to combine with others, providing enough cover for four of her people. All the others were hunched down behind rocks that were too small, or stretched out on their stomachs behind hillocks that were too low. There wasn't a tree anywhere in sight; this part of Holox really was a wasteland. They could have dug in if they'd had more time, but the meeting hour set by the Sackers was almost upon them.
Berengaria was both edgy and curious. Like everyone else, she'd heard tales aplenty about the Sackers—most of them apocryphal, she had no doubt. Nevertheless, a certain amount of anxiety was to be expected when one was meeting for the first time a race of beings assiduously avoided by every other race in the galaxy. Fearsome they might be, but Berengaria sincerely doubted that they were phaser-proof. But if the phasers didn't do the trick, they'd brought along two photon grenade mortars that surely would.
She was the only one of the security team out in the open. She concentrated on not fidgeting, knowing the other team members were watching her. Then she spotted the shimmer in the air that meant a beamdown. The form of Captain Kirk and two others began to take shape. She stepped forward to meet them; but before she got there they faded out of sight again.
Berengaria whipped out her communicator. "Enterprise, come in."
"Enterprise."
"What happened? They were here and then they weren't. Did you have a malfunction?"
"No malfunction, Lieutenant," said Kyle's voice. "Please wait."
She waited.
"Lieutenant!" someone whispered.
"Hold your positions," she ordered sharply.
When next she heard from the Enterprise, it was Mr. Spock speaking. "Lieutenant Berengaria, summon your team and beam back aboard immediately."
"But what about the captain? If his party beamed down somewhere else, we'll have to form search teams to look for them."
"The captain is not on Holox, Lieutenant," Spock's unnaturally calm voice told her. "Captain Kirk is aboard the Sacker ship, as are the other two with him. Beam up immediately."
Chekov was throwing up all over the transporter platform. Uhura was down on her hands and knees, gagging. Captain Kirk was curled into a ball, trying to create a little pocket of air where he could breathe away from that overpowering, not-to-be-resisted, gut-wrenching, stomach-churning, heart-stopping, god-awful smell.
Kirk felt the taste of bile in his mouth, his sinuses, his nose; a war was being waged in his stomach, and he had to fight against passing out from wave after wave of nausea and dizziness. Sackers were around them everywhere, but Kirk kept his eyes averted; he knew if he looked at one of them directly, he'd be vomiting even harder than Chekov. He tried to check on Uhura but his vision was blurred; he struggled to his feet until a feeling very like vertigo brought him back to his knees.
And then a pain like nothing he'd ever felt before shot through both his ears—and it went on and on. Uhura and Chekov both screamed, but Kirk didn't hear them. A voice issuing from an apparatus strapped to the waist of one of the Sackers said, "Your translator!"—in a tone of reprimand. Kirk didn't hear that either; he was temporarily deafened.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw, but did not hear, the approach of two Sackers wearing waldoes. He tried to back away from them, but his legs had turned to rubber. One of the Sackers grabbed his arms with the waldoes and held him still while the other Sacker forced a liquid down his throat. It was thick and milky—an analgesic? Then a helmet was slapped over his head and Kirk found himself gulping in sweet, sweet oxygen. Gradually the furor in his stomach began to die down. His ears were still ringing and now his head pounded, an aftereffect of the pain in his ears. But he could live with that.
Chekov was sitting on the floor beside the transporter platform, his helmeted head down between his knees. Uhura was perched on the edge of the platform, gingerly touching the helmet resting on her shoulders. The helmets were shaded, Kirk noted, but he doubted if that would make the Sackers any more beautiful. He still couldn't bring himself to look at them directly. Unsteadily he made his way over to Uhura and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Uhura said something. He could see her lips moving, but he could hear no words.
"Can't hear you—maybe it's the helmets," Kirk answered … and realized he couldn't hear himself either.
The expression on Uhura's face told him the same realization had just come to her as well. Kirk whirled around and faced the Sackers for the first time.
They were all cloaked, with hoods pulled forward over their faces. Only the scabrous hands that showed confirmed the identity of their captors as Sackers. "What have you done to us?" Kirk yelled, without hearing.
A grayish-blue hand that looked decayed enough to be falling off held out a stylus pad to him. Only three words were written there: Deafness will pass.
Kirk took the stylus pad and showed it to Uhura. When she nodded, he took it to Chekov. The young navigator's lips formed the word "Deafness?" He hadn't realized.
The Sackers were stirring around, moving slowly. Two of them held weapons, which they used to gesture toward a turbolift. A lift right in the transporter room, Kirk thought, automatically beginning to memorize the layout of the ship.
He and Uhura and Chekov were herded into the turbolift, and the doors closed after them. They were alone, a fact for which each of them rendered silent thanks. They looked at one another helplessly, unable to communicate and not knowing what awaited them when the lift completed its ascent.
What awaited them was four armed Sackers. One of them gestured imperiously, revealing a black arm with streaks of green running through it. Kirk and the other two stepped off the turbolift and followed the black Sacker down a corridor much wider and higher than any on the Enterprise. They were led to a stateroom and again left alone.
The room was stiflingly hot. A coffin-shaped vat stood in one corner. Other than that, it was an ordinary enough stateroom—slightly oversized tables and chairs, a console, something that might possibly be artwork on the walls. An open door revealed a washroom-toilet with a sonic shower. Three air mattresses with blankets folded on them were on the floor. Kirk went over and looked in the vat; it was filled with a pale green viscous material. Was that what Sackers slept in? Was the vat a Sacker bed?
Uhura sat down at the console and tried it. She raised her hands, palms up. Disconnected.
Chekov activated the door to the corridor and found himself facing an armed Sacker. He smiled wanly and closed the door.
Kirk cautiously lifted the helmet from his head—and hurriedly put it back on again. They might be alone, but the reek of Sacker was still in the air. The place was obviously an officer's quarters, vacated for their benefit. The air mattresses and blankets indicated they'd be staying a while. So they're not planning to kill us right away, Kirk thought. Why? He felt a rivulet of sweat running down his back.
Chekov pulled out a chair from a table and sat down, carelessly banging the chair against the bulkhead. Kirk heard it. "Did you hear that?" he asked. Chekov made no response, but Kirk heard a kind of buzz from behind him. He turned to see Uhura mouthing I heard it! So their hearing was coming back.
Kirk plopped down on one of the air mattresses and leaned back against the bulkhead as well as he could; the helmet made it awkward. So now they'd met the Sackers. Physically they were even more disgusting than the Enterprise's record banks had led him to believe; no wonder every world in the Federation dreaded their visits. And no wonder there'd been no advance in human-Sacker relations in over fifty years. How could you carry on negotiations with a race that, just by being in the same room with you, made you want to puke?
It was almost an hour before they were able to talk to one another. All three of their uniforms were stained with sweat, but they'd been unable to find a temperature control. "They want something of us," Kirk said. "But what? Why did they kidnap us?"
"Ransom?" Chekov suggested with an expression that indicated he didn't believe his own suggestion. "Vhile they are in the process of burning up the uniwerse? It cannot be."
"No, something else."
Uhura said, "Perhaps they're planning to use us as emissaries of some sort? Since they, ah, offend human beings themselves, perhaps they want to negotiate through agents that don't make other races throw up at the sight of them."
"Negotiate vith whom?" Chekov asked. "And for vhat?"
"With Starfleet Command, probably," Kirk answered. "That's not a bad suggestion, Uhura. What they want is anybody's guess. But with an exploding universe to use as a weapon, I'd say they had a pretty good chance of getting it."
"They took our phasers and communicators," Chekov said. "Ve can't fight them and ve can't call for help."
Kirk felt inside his tunic; his communicator was still there. He started to tell the others but stopped. For all he knew, the Sackers were listening to every word they said. And watching them. "Look for microphones," he told the other two. "And cameras. Any kind of bugging device."
They gave the room a thorough going-over but could find nothing. They were still looking when the door to their room opened. The tallest Sacker they'd seen yet walked in, rather grandly wrapped in a blazing scarlet cloak. Two other Sackers followed, both wearing black cloaks and both armed. One hand holding a weapon showed yellow fluid inside the sac, the other was gray. Kirk and the other two instinctively backed away from the door.
The red-cloaked Sacker spoke. "Your hearing has returned?" The voice was female.
"Yes," said Kirk. "What do you want with us?"
"The deafness was a mistake. One of us neglected to connect his translator correctly. It was the sound of his voice that deprived you of your hearing."
"You're speaking through a translator? That's not your own voice we're hearing?"
"The answer to both questions is yes. The voices we use when speaking to humans are computer-simulated."
"The voice coming out of the translator is female. Are you female?"
"I am female."
"Let me see the translator," Kirk demanded, and heard Uhura gasp.
The red Sacker didn't answer immediately. "To show you the translator, it would be necessary for me to remove my hood. We wear these garments to shield your eyes."
"Most considerate kidnappers I've ever met," Kirk said sharply. "Thank you—we appreciate the courtesy. Now show me the translator."
The Sacker did nothing for a moment; then she reached up and slowly pushed back her hood.
Chekov and Uhura immediately turned their heads away, but Kirk forced himself to keep his eyes on the Sacker. Gradually Chekov's head turned back; Uhura was the last, but eventually she looked too.
What they saw was the head of a seven-foot-plus creature whose molty-looking membranous sac was filled with bright red fluid streaked with gray here and there. Her brain looked red too, perhaps because it had to be viewed through the fluid as well as a semi-opaque skull. What caused the three from the Enterprise the most trouble was the sight of the little, white wormlike creatures moving around inside the brain. There were even some in the Sacker's face. Uhura and Chekov were both making noises of dismay. Kirk thought his original guess that the wormlike things were chemical messengers was probably right. His stomach was churning again, but he was determined not to let this big red monster see his distress.
Over the lower half of her face the Sacker was wearing an apparatus that was attached by two thin cables to another apparatus strapped to her waist. She pointed to the box. "The voice comes from here." She pressed a button and the voice emanating from the box spoke gibberish. She pressed the button again and said, "That time I was speaking our language. There will be occasions on which we will need to speak among ourselves in your presence. For that reason our translators have been equipped with a muting device, so that our voices will not cause you pain."
She paused. No one said anything. Then Chekov spoke up. "Ve thenk you," he said formally.
That was what she was waiting for. "You are welcome. We wear these translators for your benefit. And these outer garments also, for so long as is necessary."
"And how long is that going to be?" Kirk asked. "Why have you brought us here?"
"You are the captain of the Enterprise?"
"I am."
The Sacker pointed a red hand at Chekov. "You?"
"Navigator."
"And you?"
"Communications officer."
The Sacker wagged her head from side to side in a gesture they would come to recognize as the Sacker equivalent of a nod. "Your name is James T. Kirk, correct?"
"Correct. Who are you?"
"Their names, please?"
"Lieutenant Uhura and Ensign Chekov," Kirk said, indicating with a gesture which was which.
The Sacker slowly made her way over to stand directly in front of Uhura—who trembled a little but held her ground. The Sacker looked her over carefully, as if inspecting her for leaks. "You are a female?"
"You better believe it, Babe," Uhura said firmly.
The Sacker twitched and took a step closer. "Babe … baby? You call me a baby?"
"Uh, no," Uhura replied wide-eyed. "I'm not calling you anything. Babe … well, it's just a sort of nickname, that's all."
"Name? Do you say 'name'?"
"Yes," Uhura replied uneasily.
"Babe." Again the head-waggling gesture. "I am the commander of this vessel."
"So vhat is your name?" Chekov asked.
"You have heard. Babe."
Kirk made a quick gesture to silence the other two. "Commander Babe," he said, somehow managing to keep a straight face, "why are we here?"
"We have need of your assistance," the newly named Babe told him. "Our ship has recently suffered a disastrous accident. Every officer and crew member on the bridge was killed—not one of our command personnel survived. I am a commander-in-training only. We brought you here, Captain Kirk, because we need you to captain our ship."
Kirk felt his mouth drop open. He glanced at Chekov and Uhura; their mouths were hanging open too. When he found his voice again, Kirk exclaimed, "I don't know anything about this ship!"
"You are a starship captain, no?"
"I am a starship captain, yes. But this ship—"
"This ship has many similarities to Federation starships. There are differences in size and in some particular functions, but the basic structure was taken from Starfleet Command's Constitution-class vessels."
"And the Enterprise is a Constitution-class vessel," Kirk murmured. "I see. What if I refuse?"
"You will not. Are you aware of the fact that another universe is expanding within our own?"
"I am. I'm also aware that you are responsible for its being here. And that you destroyed the very people who made it possible, and who built this ship for you, and who developed the baryon reverter."
At the words baryon reverter the two Sackers who'd come in with the commander raised their weapons and stepped toward Kirk. Babe said, "How do you know of the baryon reverter?"
He saw no reason not to tell her, but remained silent all the same.
"We have memory probes at our disposal."
Kirk shrugged. "Someone told me, obviously. A Zirgosian who was on Holox at the time you were busy poisoning the colonists. Why did you want to kill them?"
She ignored his question. "If you know about the baryon reverter, then you know it is the only way to seal out the other universe. The reverter, however, has a limited range. It will be necessary for us to return to the sector where the Beta Castelli star system used to exist. And that is why you will captain our ship. It is the only way you can stop the expansion of the other universe."
The three from the Enterprise exchanged uneasy looks; this was a development none of them had anticipated. She's got me, Kirk thought. I'm going to have to do it. "Why did you release the new universe in the first place?"
"That will be made clear in time."
"Who'd act as my first officer?"
"I will perform in that capacity. I know orbiting and docking, but my training had not advanced to the level of battle maneuvers when the accident on the bridge occurred. We are also weak in our handling of the ship's weapons systems. You will teach me, Captain Kirk, you will teach all of us. We have helmsmen, medicos, engineers, and soldiers, but we have no trainees sufficiently advanced to perform the functions of navigation and communications. The Chekov and the Uhura will complete the training in those areas."
"Oh, you've got it all figured out, have you?"
"I do not think I have overlooked anything. You three will be sufficient. Captain Kirk, do you still refuse?"
He hated being squeezed like that, but there really wasn't any question of what he should do. "No, I don't refuse. I'll captain your damned ship for you. When do we start?"
"Not for a time yet—we have preparations to make. Sustenance will be brought to you. These are your quarters—no one else will use them. A new air cycle has been initiated, so you will be able to breathe in here without your helmets before long."
"Thank goodness," Uhura murmured.
The Sacker commander pointed a red hand at some drawers built into the bulkhead. "In there is a selection of clothing we have acquired from various worlds. You should have no difficulty in finding some articles of dress that fit you. We understand that humans have an obsessive need for privacy. Therefore you will not be observed in any way so long as you remain here in your quarters. But you are not to go anywhere else in the ship without one of us in attendance. Guards will be outside your door at all times. When it is time for you to come to the bridge, you will be escorted to the turbolift. Is this clear?"
"Quite clear," Kirk said.
"If ve hef to stay in here," Chekov said, "do you suppose you could turn down the temperature?"
The voice from the box at her waist sounded surprised. "This is too warm for you?"
"Yes!" said three voices in unison.
"Strange … I am not comfortable in this chill. However, if you need a cooler environment, the temperature is controlled through the console in the corner. I will have that function restored." She paused. "There is one more thing. When you were first beamed aboard, we found three phasers but only two communicators. Which of you has the missing communicator?"
Kirk didn't even bother putting up a show of resistance. He took the communicator from his tunic and tossed it to her. "Here you are, Babe."
"Thank you, Captain Kirk. Is it necessary to use both names when addressing you?"
"No," Kirk said, "but the one you use is Captain."
"I understand. You are in command. But do you understand that any attempt at treachery on your part will result in the immediate incineration of one or both of your companions?"
"I do now," Kirk said, suddenly dry-mouthed.
"That is good. I am not tolerant of opposition, Captain, and we do not have time to spare. You will treat this ship as if it were the Enterprise. I expect no less of you."
Without another word the tall red Sacker and her two guards turned and left, leaving three stunned and uneasy humans in their wake.