DISORIENTED AND HELPLESS, Commander Ansfield floated in the midst of the light and noise, her eyes clamped tightly shut against the blinding glare. Obviously, unless the artificial gravity had given out entirely, she was no longer on the Enterprise. The light had almost certainly been the result of the transporter energy that Spock had detected, but the transporter must have been either a very primitive one or one that was on the verge of breaking down.
But at least it hadn't killed her. Yet. It had taken her somewhere.
But where? To Kremastor's ship? Unless there was another operational ship out there, one that had successfully eluded their search, it had to be.
Slowly, the intensity of light bombarding her closed eyelids began to ease, but abruptly, long before she dared open her eyes, gravity returned, sending her thudding onto a hard, concavely curved surface.
An instant later, the light, a dull glare even through her closed lids, faded almost as abruptly as gravity had returned. At the same time, the crackling noises faded, leaving only a soft mixture of a hiss and a rumble.
Cautiously, she risked lifting her lids a fraction. When she was not blinded by a resurgence of the light, she opened her eyes the rest of the way.
For an instant, a new wave of vertigo swept over her as she found herself lying in a featureless gray sphere about three meters in diameter. Muted, shadowless light seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, just as the blinding glow of the transporter had done on the Enterprise bridge. But whatever the source of the light, it was obviously not intended for human eyes. Under it, her skin was sallow, almost jaundiced, the blue of her uniform contrastingly darker.
"Who are you?" It was Kremastor, his words filled with a mixture of anger and terror. "Why did you interfere?"
Masking her unsteadiness, Ansfield got to her feet. The very featurelessness of the spherical room was disorienting. Despite near-normal gravity, it was an effort to keep from swaying.
"Why did you try to kidnap the captain?" she asked, scowling as she looked around. "Send me back before you make an even bigger fool of yourself than you already have!"
"I cannot send you back! I can have no further contact—"
"I thought you needed our help, Kremastor—or whatever your real name is! Was that all a lie? Just so you could get close enough to use that broken-down transporter of yours?"
"No! I do need your help! Everything I said was true, but—"
"Then why did you pull an idiotic stunt like this?"
There was a shuddering silence, and then: "The creature that accompanied you through the nexus—are you its allies?"
"You know of it, then?"
"Of course I know of it! Are you in league with it?"
"With that thing? Of course not! Why—"
"If that is true, why were you not fighting among yourselves? Why have you not destroyed each other, as all the others have done?"
"Because we've got better things to do!"
"That is not an answer!"
"It's all you're going to get until you send me back!
It's all you'll get from anybody, so there's no point in trying to snatch someone else in my place!" Clamping her lips closed, she folded her arms in rigid defiance.
"But you must answer! I must understand what is happening! I must be certain that you are not in league with that creature! No one in the last twenty thousand years has been able to withstand its influence, but you—"
"Twenty thousand years?" Ansfield looked around her, searching for Kremastor. "What are you? A computer?"
"It doesn't matter what I am. All that matters—"
"If you want any answers, it matters! Now, what are you?"
Suddenly, the ship shuddered around her.
"What is it?" Ansfield asked sharply. "What's happening?"
But there was no answer, only the continued shuddering, growing increasingly violent until it seemed about to rip the ship apart.
But then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.
And from somewhere came a moan, wordless and agonized.
"Kremastor? Was that you? What happened?"
But there was no answer, no sound of any kind, for at least a minute.
Then the air started to glow and crackle again. Was she being sent back? she wondered abruptly. Were they going to try for Kirk again?
"It won't do you any good to send me back and kidnap someone else!" she shouted. "No one on that ship will give you any more than I have!"
The glow intensified and began to pulse. The crackling grew louder.
And from somewhere came, not Klingon words, but words from a language apparently beyond the capability of her universal translator. But to her own ear, no matter what the language, there was shrill desperation in the high-pitched voice.
Closing her eyes to a slit against the increasing intensity of the pulsing light, she waited.
The instant the alien ship raised its shields and vanished from the screen and from the sensors, Sulu hit impulse power, aiming the Enterprise directly toward the ship's last known position.
But it was too late. The ship did not reappear on the sensors, and by the time the computer reverted to the far-infrared imaging necessary to pick up the bulk of the derelicts, the fuzzy, irregular sphere was nowhere to be seen.
"What happened?" Kirk snapped. "Where is it?"
"It ran, Captain," Spock said, studying the record of sensor readings. "While we were distracted by the display its transporter made, the ship moved to within ten kilometers of the limits of our sensor range. The last sensor readings, taken virtually the instant the transport of Commander Ansfield was completed, indicate a maximum application of impulse power. In addition, our own sensor range took another quantum leap downward as the ship departed. It dropped to six hundred fifty-seven kilometers and is now shrinking at an increasing rate."
"How long until the range is zero?"
"At the present rate, Captain, approximately sixty-eight point three minutes."
"Mr. Sulu, initiate search pattern at maximum warp factor consistent with this—this junkyard we're in. Deflectors on full."
"Aye-aye, sir."
"Mr. Scott, have a tractor beam ready to lock onto the alien ship the instant the sensors pick it up."
"Aye, Captain."
And the derelicts vanished from the screen, replaced by an eerie blur as the computer drove the Enterprise outward in a mad spiral. Only the computer's virtually instantaneous reactions kept them from colliding with the hundreds of derelicts scattered randomly for at least a million kilometers in every direction.
Suddenly, less than two minutes into the search, the Enterprise dropped out of warp drive and doubled back on full impulse power.
"Visual contact," Sulu announced seconds later. "We overshot, but the computer is bringing us back to within sensor range."
On the viewscreen, the fuzzy, irregular sphere had reappeared among the derelicts. It was growing rapidly.
"Within sensor range, Captain," Spock said seconds later. "Impulse engines driving ship on heading zero five one mark zero zero eight."
"Match velocity, Mr. Sulu."
"Matching, sir," Sulu said a moment later, and the fuzzy sphere was centered on the screen, motionless while the other derelicts flashed by.
"Tractor beam, Mr. Scott, but gently. We want to hold it, not destroy it."
"Aye, Captain, making contact—now."
"Impulse engines increasing power, Captain," Spock said. "It is trying to pull away."
"Keep with it, Mr. Sulu, but no sudden moves. If—"
"Sensor range decreased to four hundred seventeen kilometers, Captain. It is possible that the range of the tractor beam—"
"Closer, Mr. Sulu! Keep us within sensor range."
On the screen, the fuzzy sphere ballooned. "Fifty kilometers, sir."
"Life-form readings, Mr. Spock."
"Two, Captain—the alien life-form and a human, presumably Commander Ansfield."
"She's alive, then?"
"Alive and conscious, Captain."
Some small part of the tension eased, and Kirk returned his attention to the screen. "Lieutenant Uhura, resume transmitting our friendly intentions on all frequencies, but use only the Klingon dialect the alien itself used. But add that though we still mean Kremastor no harm, we will be forced to take action unless Commander Ansfield is returned—immediately and unharmed."
"All frequencies, sir."
For nearly a minute, there was no response.
Then, without warning, the alien's shields vanished, leaving the tiny ship glowing brilliantly in the center of the viewscreen. Instantly, the computer adjusted the image, and the other derelicts vanished, leaving the alien ship alone in the surrounding blackness.
An instant later, the bridge was filled once again with a pulsing, sourceless light and a deafening mixture of hiss and crackle.
"A similar form of transporter energy, Captain," Spock said, raising his voice above the din. "But it is even more unfocused than before."
"From the alien ship, I assume," Kirk shouted back, and Spock only nodded his reply as the crackling continued to grow even louder and the light began to coalesce once again into a column.
But before the form was complete, while independent fragments and streaks of light still pulsed everywhere on the bridge, the hissing and crackling was joined by a piercing whine, like a high-speed motor suddenly gone out of control.
And the embryonic column flared outward.
And vanished.
The fragments remained a moment longer, but then they, too, flared and vanished.
The whine peaked, sending hands to cover painfully assaulted ears, and then it, too, was gone.
And finally, the hissing and crackling changed momentarily to a rasping buzz and then cut off abruptly.
"Transporter energies no longer present, Captain," Spock said into the sudden silence. "But the sensor scan has returned. And both life-forms are still present in the alien ship."
"Response from alien ship, sir," Uhura broke in, and an instant later the stiffly accented Klingon dialect filled the bridge.
"I tried to return the one you call Commander Ansfield," it said, "but my transporter has failed."
"Then you will have no objections if we use our own transporters to bring her back," Kirk said flatly.
"You have trapped me." Kremastor's voice was resigned, empty of all urgency. "I can do nothing to prevent you from doing whatever you wish."
"Very well. Once she is safely on board the Enterprise, we can discuss your request that we accompany you to the vicinity of the nexus."
"There is no longer any need."
"What? Why not?"
"The dead space surrounding your ship no longer has the effect it did earlier. It is impossible now for either of us to reenter the nexus."
Or you want us to think it's impossible, Kirk thought silently. "Nonetheless, we will discuss it," he said. "In the meantime, we will transport over to your ship and bring Commander Ansfield back with us."
Signaling for Uhura to cut off the transmission, he punched the button that connected him to engineering. "Mr. Scott, do all systems check out?"
"Aye, Captain, so far as I can tell," Scotty's voice came back a moment later. "Whatever brought us here, it does no' seem to have had any effect on the equipment."
"Very well, Mr. Scott," Kirk said, and he went on to outline the events of the last few minutes. "Kremastor's shields are down," he finished, "but Commander Ansfield doesn't have a communicator to lock onto."
"We could bring her back wi'out one, if the coordinates were precise enough and the other ship does no' so much as twitch."
"I know, Mr. Scott, but considering Kremastor's behavior so far, I wouldn't count on it. But I assume there would be no problem in transporting someone to his ship."
"None, Captain. The remote materialization circuits—"
"To the bridge, then, Mr. Scott. You have the conn. Mr. Spock and I will beam over with an extra communicator. Bring Commander Ansfield back immediately, then, but don't bring Spock and me back until one of us gives you the word."
"Aye, Captain, but—"
"I'm not convinced Kremastor was telling the truth when he said it was no longer possible for us to reenter the gate," Kirk explained, "so Spock and I will try to find the device he told us about originally. If we do find it and can get it operating, you be ready to head back through the gate. I hope there's time for you to bring one or both of us back after we've activated the device, but if there isn't, don't jeopardize your chances of getting out of this graveyard."
Cutting off the intercom before Scott could reply, Kirk turned to Spock. "How much time to zero sensor range?"
"Approximately sixty-two point five minutes, Captain, if the shrinkage continues to accelerate at the present rate and if there are no more quantum changes."
"Then we had better get a move on," Kirk said briskly, standing up and heading for the turbolift. "We have to assume that the range of the transporters is no greater than that of the sensors. Kremastor himself stayed within sensor range while kidnapping Commander Ansfield."
Gesturing to Lieutenant Denslow to take over the science station, Spock joined Kirk at the turbolift. "Good luck, Captain, Mr. Spock," Uhura said as the doors hissed open, and before they closed, her words had been echoed by everyone on the bridge.
In the transporter room, they stepped into the transporter circles. Kirk's eyes met those of Lieutenant Crider at the transporter controls.
"Energize," Kirk said.
"Energizing," Crider acknowledged as he began to slide the transporter controls down.
A moment later, as the warble of the transporter built in his ears, Kirk felt the distinctive tingle of the transporter energies as they gripped him and held him motionless for scanning.
Quickly, the tingle reached its peak, indicating that the scanning was complete, and the transporter room began to fade from view.
But even as it did, he realized that something was wrong.