"THIS IS KIRK. Access to contents, please."
There was a whirring sound as the compartment door swung aside, revealing the foremost tray of phaser pistols.
Quickly, the captain removed them from their holders and handed them out. By the time he was finished, there were half a dozen empty spaces in the tray.
"Check yer charges," said Scotty, and each of the crewmen followed his advice. But there were no complaints; the phasers had been well maintained.
"Remember," said Kirk, "you're to keep them set on stun—just in case. I don't want any flesh-and-blood people getting killed if they get in the way."
After all, these were engineers—not security officers. Their training in phaser use had only been cursory at best. For a moment, the captain had a distinct feeling of déjà vu. Hadn't he just been through this exercise on the Dunkirk? And hadn't he led a group of engineers there too?
Yes. The situation was much as it had been on the Dunkirk. Except that there, only one android had occupied the bridge. Here on the Enterprise, there were a lot more—at the very least, the other Kirk, Spock, Sulu, and Chekov. Plus any of the others that might have joined them.
So the strategy here had to be different. They would have to find and destroy the androids elsewhere on the ship—then find a way to recover the bridge.
Unfortunately, this was a smaller group than that available to him on the Dunkirk. With so much of the engineering staff out on repair duty, he had had to make do.
Still, if all went according to plan, seven would be enough.
"You may close now," he told the door.
More whirring as it swung shut. When Kirk heard the lock engage, he applied the finishing touch.
"Captain's override," he said. "Respond to only one voice—that of Kirk, James T., Captain. Access by all other parties prohibited."
A small, green light in the corner of the door blinked three times, then went dark. The override had been accepted and confirmed.
Of course, they still wouldn't quite have a monopoly on the phaser supply. Every on-duty security officer would be armed with one, and during battle conditions they were all on duty.
But only six of the names on Uhura's list had been in security section. If they could find and eliminate those six, the rest of the androids would be denied the use of firearms.
With all their other physical advantages, it was crucial to at least deny them that one.
"All right," he said, glancing at Scotty and then at the others. "You all know what your assignments are. Let's get a move on."
Kirk had hardly finished his exhortation when a cry rang out—and a second later, a phaser beam sliced the air by the suddenly open entranceway.
Bodies dived for cover all around him as return fire crisscrossed the cabin. Kirk himself lunged for a storage alcove, twisting just enough to avoid a sizzling shaft of phaserlight.
He spotted Scotty behind an overturned table, pointed to the entrance in lieu of a question. The chief engineer shrugged.
"You can't escape," said one of their adversaries, standing just outside the opening. "Throw out your weapons."
Kirk recognized the voice. It belonged to Wood—one of those who had been in the shuttlecraft.
"Mister Wood," he called. "This is the captain. There's been a mistake."
Slowly, he emerged from the alcove, his hands held high—where Wood and the others could see them.
There was murmuring out in the corridor. Kirk saw shadows writhing against the far bulkhead—shadows that indicated not one figure, but a number of them.
"That phaser went off by accident," he said. "Was anyone hurt out there?"
Ice water trickling down his back, he took a couple of steps toward the doorway. At the same time, he brought his hands down. Slowly.
"No," came Wood's response. "No one was hurt."
Finally, he showed himself. And from the other side of the entranceway, Paikert joined him.
Kirk wasn't surprised. Paikert too had been down to Midos Five.
"We thought you were on the bridge," said Wood.
"I was," said the captain. "But it became necessary to arm ourselves." He thought furiously as he took another step toward the security officers. "I … I have reason to believe that the Romulans have teleported aboard."
He watched their faces. There was at least a flicker of doubt. Then Wood's brows came together.
"You are lying," he said flatly. And as one, he and Paikert raised their phasers.
But they never got a burst off between them. Half a dozen stun beams converged on them, sent them spinning out of sight.
Kirk leaped forward, flattened himself against the inner wall of the cabin, to one side of the doorway. He waited for the space of a heartbeat, his blood pounding in his ears. Nothing.
As Scotty took up a position on the other side of the aperture, the captain peered outside.
The corridor—a short one—was host to the crumpled forms of Wood and Paikert. Otherwise, it was empty. But there was a sound of retreating footfalls just around the corner.
"Come on," he told Scotty. "We can't let them get to an intercom."
Fortunately, there wasn't one for a fair stretch. With any luck, they would get a shot at the androids before they reached it.
But as Kirk led the charge around the bend, he caught a glimpse of someone crouched at the end of the hallway. Reflexes taking over, he hit the deck.
The phaser beam struck the bulkhead behind him, left it a smoking mess. Quickly, he scurried back to cover.
Another blast followed the first. The air reeked of ozone.
"Damn," said Scotty. "Th' bloody bastard's got us pinned here!"
True, Kirk thought. And in the meantime, his friends are on their way to alert the bridge.
He couldn't allow it.
"Give me some cover fire," he told Scotty. "I'm going after him."
DeLong was aware of the rapid footfalls for a second or two before she realized they were headed her way. Reflexively, she flicked her wrist, clearing the ends of the dallis'kari.
It was only after she'd already started for security that some good, sensible caution had taken hold. And since the gym was on the way, she had stopped by long enough to pick up some insurance.
The footfalls got closer. DeLong plastered herself against a bulkhead and waited for the maker of them to go by.
Of course, she knew that it might not be an android. It might be one of her fellow crewmen, on urgent business. Or worse, fleeing the androids.
So she wouldn't wield the dallis'kari with intent to disable. All she would do is stop the runner for a few minutes—tangle him up long enough to assess the situation.
And though she hated to admit it, the best way to do that was to repeat the captain's maneuver—the street trick that had made her lose her temper in the gym.
The sounds of approach were louder, more imminent. Then louder still.
Another couple of seconds … Now!
She and Silverman saw each other at the same time. But by then, of course, it was too late for him.
As he twisted to point his weapon at her, his legs were already wrapped up in the dallis'kari. He toppled, sprawled the phaser spinning out of his hand.
She took a couple of steps toward him, stopped. Now what? Do I just ask him if he's an android?
But Silverman answered without her asking. Taking the thongs of the dallis'kari in his hands, he tore them apart like strands of odlo grass.
His eyes, trained on her the whole time, were cold. Deadly.
The phaser, she reminded herself. She made a break for it.
And very nearly got to it. But just as her fingers were about to close on the pistol, she felt a heavy shoulder come driving into the backs of her knees. Her legs folded under the impact, and both she and Silverman sprawled across the corridor.
DeLong was up first, but it was no use. The android reached out with incredible quickness, grabbed her wrist.
And drew her back to him.
She struck him with her free hand across the face. Once, twice, as hard as she could.
He hardly seemed to feel it.
Then he flung her against the bulkhead. She hit it hard, so hard that she almost blacked out. She could taste blood in her mouth as she tried to straighten up, using the bulkhead for support.
The android took a step forward, brought his fist back. Dazed, she just watched it, waited for it to come forward.
But something else happened. There was a blur, as of someone leaping feetfirst through the air, and suddenly the android was down on one knee. Just a couple of meters from him, Critelli was scrambling to his feet.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked Silverman. 'Have you gone crazy?"
"Careful," said DeLong, her voice sounding vague and distant in her head. "He's not human—he's an android." She felt the blood draining from her face, fought to stay conscious. "Get the phaser."
Critelli looked at her for an instant, trying to grasp what she had said. By the time the android got up, he must have igured out enough of it.
Because as Silverman came for him, he spotted the phaser. Dived for it. And came up firing.
The beam lanced out, stopped the android cold. He collapsed in a heap.
Darkness flitted at the edges of DeLong's vision. She had the sense that her legs had given way, that she too had collapsed.
And for a moment, she did lose consciousness.
When she awoke, Critelli was holding her in his arms, pushing perspiration-matted curls off her forehead, desperately repeating her name.
"I … I'm okay," she told him. Then, realizing that they were safe for the moment, she smiled. "Critelli," she said. "You saved my life."
He seemed not to have heard her. "Doctor McCoy had me prowling around down here looking for bodies," he said. "Otherwise, I never would have found you in …"
She had never noticed how lovely those dark eyes of his were.
"Blazes! What happened here?"
She looked past Critelli and saw Valjean, an officer in science section. He was staring at Silverman's crumpled form as he approached.
"He's an android," said Critelli. "A stun beam barely stopped him."
"It's true," said DeLong, still a little dull. "And he's not alone. There are androids all over the ship."
Valjean eyed her. "You know that for a fact?"
She nodded. "Even the captain's an android."
"Where'd you hear that?" asked Valjean.
"What's the difference?" said Critelli. "Just get hold of sickbay. Can't you see she's been hurt?"
Without another word, Valjean moved to comply.
It had taken longer than Kirk had hoped.
Once he'd seen the captain coming after him, the android had fired a few shots and taken off—retreated down the corridor and around the next bend. It meant proceeding at a snail's pace—for at any moment, the android might come back around the corner and fire.
As it turned out, Kirk had given his adversary more credit than he deserved. For as the captain peered around the bend, drawing a perfunctory blast, he saw that the android was positioned near the end of the corridor—the same place he had occupied in their last standoff.
By that time, of course, Scotty and some of the others had caught up. And once again, Kirk had his cover fire.
This time, when he darted into the corridor, the android held his ground. And it was his immobility that gave a moving Kirk the advantage. The captain's first diving, rolling shot found its mark.
Now, it was a matter of overtaking the other android—or androids. Kirk sprinted the length of the corridor, made the turn ready to fire. Seeing no one, he launched into a dead run again.
The passageway to the left was the one that contained the intercom. It was there the captain would discover if he was in time or not.
His breath rasping in his throat, his blood pumping in his temples, Kirk pounded his way down the echoing corridor. Slowed as he approached the turn. Tried to visualize the position of the intercom, get an idea of the direction in which he'd have to fire.
Came around it, skidding on the deck surface, phaser held high.
What he saw was not quite what he had expected. A form in security red lay twisted on the deck, apparently unconscious. A little farther down the corridor, the crewman named Critelli was aiding an injured Denise DeLong.
But beyond them, there was someone at the intercom with his back to Kirk. He wasn't dressed like a security officer—but neither was the captain taking any chances.
Firing, he dropped the figure at the intercom. Then, ignoring the fallen officer and Critelli and DeLong for the moment, he came up to the intercom box.
"Valjean? Damn it, are you still there?"
Even above the commotion made by the approach of Scotty and his engineers, Kirk had no trouble recognizing the voice on the other end.
It was his own.
* * *
Something had happened to Valjean before he could complete his warning. But Kirk had heard enough.
The crew—or at least part of it—was on to them. Had the P'othparan finally been able to make them listen? Or had the human Kirk's accusations borne fruit after all?
No matter. They had lost the Enterprise.
It was a bitter pill to swallow. Kirk looked around him—at the bridge, at all it represented. In a way, hadn't all his efforts been for this—as much as for android domination of the Federation?
The Enterprise had been more than a symbol. It had been a goal in itself.
But survival must be preeminent. Perhaps, if they moved quickly enough …
"Mister Spock," he said. "Sulu, Chekov. Come with me."
And without hesitation, he headed for the turbolift.
"Sir?" said the communications officer who had replaced Uhura, looking as if he had missed something. "Don't you want me to call for relief?"
Kirk said nothing. He didn't look at the communications officer. He didn't look back at all.
When the lift doors opened, he stepped inside. And the others were right behind him. A moment later, the doors closed, leaving the bridge virtually unmanned.
"Shuttle deck," he told the computer.
"We have been discovered," said Spock. He said it matter-of-factly, as if it had no immediate significance.
"Yes," said Kirk. "We have been discovered. But all is not lost. We will take one of the shuttlecraft to the nearest Federation outpost. It should be quite feasible, given that we have no need for life support, and all power can be used for propulsion."
"And then?" asked Spock.
"Then," said Kirk, "we will resume our efforts."
"To carry out the Creator's design?"
Kirk looked at him. "Of course. Did you have something else in mind?"
Spock shook his head. "No. I do not."
"What about the others, sir?" asked Sulu.
"There is no time," said Kirk. "Nor do we need any additional personnel. They will have to fend for themselves."
He didn't miss the eyebrow raised by Spock.
Then the doors opened. The entrance to the shuttle bay was just across the corridor, shadowy in the dim light provided by backup power.
Slumped against the entrance panel was a crewman—one of the injured not yet discovered by McCoy's roving rescue parties. When he saw Kirk and the others, he smiled gratefully.
"Am I glad to see you, sir." His voice was weak, rasping. "I think my legs are—"
Before he could finish, Kirk reached down and grabbed him by his shirtfront. Then, with minimal effort, he tossed the man aside.
Shutting out the screams of pain, Kirk pressed the plate beside the entrance panel. His fingerprints matched those in the authorization file; the panel slid aside for him.
The four of them entered the benighted shuttle bay. The clatter of their heels echoed throughout the expanse of the chamber.
Kirk stopped at the Columbus, opened the hatch. He turned to the others.
"Wait here," he said. "I want to make sure the craft is fueled and fit."
"We can help," suggested Spock. "It would expedite matters."
Kirk waved a hand at him. "It's all right, Mister Spock. I prefer to do this myself."
Climbing into the shuttle, he proceeded directly to the ocker where the phasers were kept. Opening it, he removed one, checked to see that it was operational. Then he returned to the open hatch.
The other three were still standing exactly where he had eft them. He swung himself out of the Columbus.
And pointed the phaser at Spock.
"I have had enough of your insubordination," he said. "I have decided to terminate it."
Spock regarded him, but that was all. He made no effort to escape.
"Keptain," said Chekov, "are you certain you want to—"
Kirk whirled, trained the phaser on the navigator instead. "Shut up," he told Chekov.
Chekov fell silent.
Kirk turned back to face Spock. Still, the first officer hadn't moved.
"What you are about to do," said Spock, "is most illogical. I can be useful in carrying out the Creator's purpose."
Kirk felt a twinge of the hot and writhing thing that had consumed him on the bridge.
"More useful than I?" he said. "Isn't that what you mean, Spock?"
Spock shrugged. "The comparison is unnecessary."
And yet, there it was. Kirk glanced at Sulu and Chekov—saw that they had made the comparison themselves and had come to the same conclusion as the first officer.
"Damn you," he told Spock.
And fired the phaser.
For a brief moment, the android was enveloped in a shimmering light. Then he was gone, as if he had never existed in the first place.
Kirk felt a great satisfaction. He turned to the others.
"Come," he said. "We've delayed long enough."
"Not so fast," came a cry from the entranceway.
Once Kirk had learned that his double was no longer on the bridge, he had taken Scotty and headed straight for the shuttle deck.
Why? It was what he would have done, had the circumstances been reversed.
They arrived just in time to see the flash of phaserlight in which the Spock android vanished. Nor was it a pleasant sight for the captain—too much like watching the destruction of the real Mister Spock.
Then he saw his double turning toward the open shuttle hatch, and he couldn't help but call out a challenge. After all, this was the being who had sentenced him to death at the hands of the Rythrian. Who had taken over his ship, nearly destroyed it.
Kirk wanted him to know he'd caught up with him.
It almost proved his undoing. The android whirled at the sound of his voice and fired. A beam of deadly phaser energy erupted in the captain's direction.
"Watch out!" cried Scotty, shoving him out of the way. The phaser beam struck the bulkhead exactly where they had been standing.
Again the android fired, and again they scrambled—across the deck this time, sprinting for the cover of the other shuttles. Phaser blasts punctuated the darkness in short bursts, but none of them came as close as the first one.
And finally, they were pressed up against the cool, titanite hull of the Galileo II, safe for the moment. They looked at one another.
"Split up," said Kirk. He did little more than shape the words with his mouth, but Scotty understood. They had to keep moving. Crawling over to the bow of the shuttle, the chief engineer peeked out beyond it. Then, satisfied that here was no one waiting for him there, he disappeared.
The captain moved around to the stern, tried to see around it. Nothing.
But then, he was only human. The androids could no doubt see better in this near lightlessness. And move more silently as well.
There has to be some way to even the odds. And just as he thought that, he knew what that way might be.
"You can't get away," he called. His words rang and echoed. "It's the end of the road for you—android." A cliché, but it would have to do.
Quickly, he scurried around the other side of the shuttle so his adversaries couldn't locate him by his voice. He scanned the shadows, waited.
"It's you who can't get away," returned the other Kirk.
Good. He's taken the bait.
"You'll be blasted as soon as you take off," said the human. He moved again, darting across the space between he Galileo II and the Copernicus. When he reached the atter, he paused to listen. Still nothing.
"Will I?" answered the android. He too had moved. His voice was coming from somewhere else now. "And who will give the order? With you dead, no one will know who's in the shuttle."
Kirk didn't know if he had actually heard a sound or only sensed someone above him. But as he looked up, he saw a silhouette begin to separate itself from the roof of the Copernicus.
He fired—and for a moment, he saw the figure of Lieutenant Sulu, caught in a coruscating mantle of light. Then the illumination was gone, and so was Sulu.
"I've got your helmsman," said Kirk, knowing how much it sounded like a chess move. Captain to android's pawn one.
He slid alongside the Copernicus, moving slowly toward the bow.
"I don't need him," said the android. "You must know I'm fully capable of piloting a shuttlecraft."
Here was his chance.
"You weren't much good at directing the Enterprise. What makes you think you can handle a shuttle?"
Was that a shadow he saw? Or the shoulder of a poorly concealed adversary? He edged closer.
"I held four Romulan birds-of-prey at bay," countered the android. But there was a trace of anger in his voice. "And I kept this ship in one piece."
"You were lucky," said Kirk. "The Romulan commander was inexperienced. Or just plain stupid."
No, he realized. Only a shadow—I was right the first time.
"Otherwise," he continued, "the Enterprise would have been space debris."
He decided to try Sulu's tactic. Using one hand, he climbed the built-in ladder in the side of the craft.
"No!" said the android. His voice was getting noticeably thicker. "I did the best that could have been done. No one could have commanded her better."
"Not true," said Kirk, "and you know it. You blundered. You crippled the ship." He paused before he launched his last salvo. "You aren't fit to command!"
Even he wasn't prepared for the snarl of fury that elicited. Quickly, he hoisted himself the rest of the way onto the roof.
"It's you who isn't fit, Kirk! You're a human—a fragile, inferior human!"
There was a rapid shuffle of footsteps. A string of muttered curses.
The android had thrown caution aside. He had reached his breaking point—just as Banks had on the bridge of the Hood. It was what Kirk had been hoping for.
Now it was just a matter of pinpointing the source of the sounds. There. He's coming around the Ptolemy. Getting closer.
"Kirk? Where are you, Kirk?"
Just a matter of setting himself. Taking aim. Waiting …
"Captain—on your left!"
Kirk spun around in response to Scotty's cry—saw the Chekov android perched on the roof of the Ptolemy, his phaser pointed in the captain's direction.
Desperately, he half rolled, half flung himself off the Copernicus. There was a splendid display of phaserlight, and a screaming of tortured metal, and a jarring impact as the deck rose to meet him.
It took a moment before he realized that the beam had missed him. But as he gathered his feet beneath him, he felt something grip his shoulder—spin him around.
And suddenly, he was looking into the face of the other Kirk. The android was smiling.
"Now," he said, "we'll see who's fit."
The human tried to bring his phaser up, but the android grabbed the wrist of the hand that held it. And squeezed.
There was an audible crack as one of the bones in Kirk's wrist snapped. He cried out, but he couldn't hang on to the phaser. It made a clattering sound as it hit the deck.
Still gripping him by his broken wrist, the android shoved him up against the Copernicus.
"It hurts," he said, "doesn't it? I can recall pain—from your memories of it—but I cannot feel it."
His eyes seemed to burn in the darkness. Kirk could almost feel the heat of them on the flesh of his face.
"That is what makes us different," said the android. "I feel … nothing."
As if to emphasize his point, he twisted. Waves of agony shot up Kirk's forearm.
But he did not allow himself to scream. He didn't want to give his look-alike the satisfaction of hearing it.
Somewhere off to their right, there was a flare of bright light. A shout of startlement, abruptly terminated.
Scotty? Or the Chekov duplicate?
The android must have wondered too, for his head turned in that direction, and his expression changed to one of concern.
He looked at Kirk again.
"I'm sorry," he said, "that this has to end. I was rather enjoying it."
And with his free hand, he smashed Kirk across the face. The captain slumped to his knees.
Then the android released him, stepped back, and drew his phaser. Extended it in the human's direction.
The captain waited until he saw the android's finger begin to flex. Then, not hurt as badly as he'd given his adversary to believe, he rolled out of the way.
The beam struck the Copernicus right in its fuel lock. For a moment, the titanite glowed blood red—then it vanished, revealing the lode of fuel inside.
As Kirk gained his feet, he launched himself as far from the shuttle as he could. Nonetheless, the explosion raked him with claws of white heat, searing the uniform from his back.
As he drew himself up off the deck, he saw the android—or what was left of him. He had become a walking inferno, all trappings of humanity torn away in the explosion.
Nor could even that artificial frame take such punishment for long. The android staggered, fell. And as the Copernicus was enclosed in foam, thanks to the safety system in the pod below it, Doctor Korby's creation continued to burn.
A moment later, Kirk saw movement by the Ptolemy. A figure came out from behind the shuttle, phaser in hand.
It was Scotty.
"Damn," said Kirk. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Mister Scott."
But the chief engineer kept his distance. He eyed the captain skeptically.
"Don't worry," said Kirk. "It's me."
"An' how do a' know that?" asked Scotty.
"I've got the bruises to prove it. Or if you want, you can just take a look at that thing burning behind you."
Scotty backed up, never taking his eyes off the captain. And looked.
And grinned.
"Welcome back, sir."
Kirk nodded.
When Brown saw the shuttlecraft in the distance, his first thought was that Kirk had come back with more humans for duplication.
But if it was Kirk who had brought the shuttles, why had he not given them some warning? Brown couldn't figure it out.
Then the shuttles emptied, and those who came out were firing phaser pistols, and there were androids dropping wherever he looked.
Not being destroyed, or Brown could never have watched. But dropping nevertheless.
The androids got off their share of phaser fire as well. But, thankfully, none of them hit their targets. There were too many of the humans, it seemed, and they had taken the androids by surprise.
For his own part, Brown picked up no weapon. He just surveyed the battle from his vantage point on the machine, coming gradually to the realization that Kirk must have failed; the Creator's plan was no more. By the time all the firing stopped, a strange sensation had come over him.
It was as if a weight had been lifted from his brow. For the first time since he returned to the Creator's dwelling, he felt he had truly emerged from the darkness.
Climbing down from the machine, he headed for the cave in which the captives had been kept.
Once, one of the humans told him to stop, pointing his weapon at him. But Brown had taken enough orders. He kept going. And before the human could pull the trigger, one of the other humans prevented it.
When he reached the cave, Brown knelt and tugged at the boulder. After a moment, it rolled to one side.
There were sounds from within—sounds of surprise, of fear, of anger. He recognized the sounds.
But there was no need for any of that anymore.
"Christine," he said. "All the rest of you. Come out. You are free."