SPOCK HAD NOT BEEN entirely surprised to find the computer. After listening to the experiences of the people who had been killed and resurrected, and after watching the android Stella reappear again and again, he would have been surprised to find anything else. But figuring out how it worked was another matter. He could guess some of the general principles, but the specifics would require more study.
Scotty stepped up next to him and said, "Do you really think this thing's behind all the resurrections?"
"It seems the only logical explanation for the phenomenon," Spock replied, glad for the opportunity to check his reasoning with someone who could detect any flaws in it. "To bring someone back to life without the memory or the biological effects of dying would require a sensor array that could record a person's entire subatomic structure while they are still alive and in good health, plus the ability to store that information until the next scan."
"So the computer could use the previous pattern to regenerate the person from if they were suddenly killed," said Scotty. "Aye, that makes sense. It could also explain why they use disruptors to fight with, too. Doesn't take long to die after you're hit with one, so a person wouldn't lose much subjective time in the resurrection."
"I hadn't thought of that advantage to disruptors," Spock said. "I was considering the memory requirements of storing multiple scans. That amount of data would take up considerable memory, so I had assumed disruptors were used to reduce the number of past samples required to ensure a healthy subject."
"Could be," Scotty agreed. "But how do you explain the android? It's certainly not a healthy subject."
Spock felt the thrill of the logical chase coursing through him. "Precisely," he said. "The android is damaged because the computer falsely assumed it was healthy when it overwrote the previous scan with the current one. It was still moving, after all, and speaking. But it was already damaged beyond repair. So when the computer detected its 'death,' it attempted to restore it to life by using the previous pattern, but that pattern was nonviable."
"Why would that lock up the whole system, though?" asked Scotty. "This can't be the first time it's lost a resurrection subject. I'd imagine people die of heart attacks and such all the time."
Hmm. That was another good objection. "A valid criticism of my theory," Spock said. "Unfortunately I do not have a good answer for you, other than that the android is not a person."
"That's not the only problem with the theory," Scotty said, almost apologetically. "Those bathhouses where we wound up were shielded from transporters."
Spock nodded. "That much, at least, I believe I can explain. If the data-gathering devices—the 'gods' eyes'—also function as transport signal emitters, which we have already observed that they do, then the pattern stored in the computer's memory could be sent to them over conventional communication channels, to which the shield is transparent. No phased matter beam needs to penetrate the barrier, because the transporter is already inside it."
Scotty rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The bandwidth would have to be incredible to carry that much data."
"The sensor network would provide multiple transmission pathways," Spock replied.
"There'd have to be all sorts of error-correction techniques to make sure nothing got scrambled along the way."
"Requiring massive amounts of computing power." Spock gestured down the seemingly endless corridor lined with computers.
"Aye, but enough for everyone on two planets? Could anyone build that much hardware?"
"That's the beauty of it," Spock said. "Given the technology to replicate anything they have a template for, the sheer volume of computers becomes a trivial production problem. Storage space would have been the biggest obstacle, but transporter technology would make carving these tunnels a simple process as well. For that matter, I imagine the caverns provided the raw material to build computers out of."
"Well, it's a passable theory," said Scotty. "Barring the problems I pointed out. And there's no denyin' they've got plenty of equipment here. If you're right, then somewhere in here should be a control station. Let's see if we can get it to talk to us."
They found the control computer easily enough, by the simple expedient of looking for the one that was physically different from the others. Interfacing with it was more difficult, since it apparently didn't accept verbal input and there was no keyboard or other input device that either of them could recognize. The Grand General tried the laying on of hands and beseeching the gods to respond in their hour of need, and Mudd poked about in the nooks and crannies between consoles for an operator's manual, but neither approach was any more successful than Spock's or Scotty's.
At last Spock gave up and simply began monitoring the state of the internal electronics with his tricorder. It was a slow, tedious process, and he was keenly aware of the mounting political tensions overhead, but he could think of no better course of action. This computer was the key to everything, of that he was sure. He just needed to find out how it worked.
Scotty had moved on down the line of identical substations, scanning each one in turn. After a few minutes of that he returned to Spock and said, "Well, I've got one bit o' good news. It looks like there's still transporter patterns in some of these buffers. It takes about ten racks per person, by my guess, but there's plenty of 'em to go around."
Spock looked up from his tricorder, real hope filling the emptiness inside him for the first time in hours. "Is the captain in any of them?"
Scotty shook his head. "It'd take decades to scan 'em all, and even then we have no idea what kind of data compression techniques they're using. All I can tell you for sure is there's something in those memory banks."
"And it's stuck there until we can figure out how to unlock the computer," Spock said.
Mudd had been poking around among the artifacts at the end of the tunnel, asking the Grand General what each one was. Now the two of them came back to Spock and Scotty and Mudd asked, "Making any progress?"
"Some," Spock admitted. "I have discovered a periodic data flow that seems to match the resurrection cycle of the android. I suspect it's a self-check routine, since it seems to involve the entire processor and program storage areas, but I have not yet determined what it is checking for." He didn't mention his growing suspicion that the computer was trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the android.
"Grand General," he said. "Is anything other than a Nevisian—or humanoid alien—ever resurrected?"
"What do you mean? Other animals? No, the…the Gods…" He hesitated, then squared his shoulders and said, "The Gods bring back only people. People killed in battle, at that."
Spock nodded. He had suspected as much. "Something apparently filters the input for a 'humanoid' signature, and disregards all else, probably at the source. That would cut down on the amount of data flow necessary for the central processor to handle. But since the android was also considered humanoid, the definition must not be too strict."
"Certainly you can't believe that the android fooled the Gods!" the Grand General said indignantly.
"It was good enough to fool you," Mudd reminded him.
Spock ignored them both. He was speaking mostly for his own benefit, and for Scotty's. "The rematerialization process, however, must be considerably more sophisticated. It must check for transmission errors that could damage the subject. It no doubt scans a newly revived being's medical condition before it considers the restoration complete."
Scotty nodded. "Aye, that makes sense. But that still doesn't answer my original objection. This can't be the first time it's lost a patient."
"No," said Spock. "But I am willing to bet this is the first time a patient, as you call it, has turned into a robot."
Scotty laughed softly. "It probably thinks it got an order for a gods' eye confused with a person."
"Actually," said Mudd, "that's not a bad description of the original Stella."
Spock looked up at him, unsure what he meant. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that he was missing something obvious, but only to a human. "How is that a good description of your wife?" he asked.
Mudd rolled his eyes upward in their sockets. "It was a joke," he said, confirming Spock's guess. "I just meant that she certainly thought she was God."
"Ah." Spock turned back to the computer with his tricorder. It didn't take long to confirm his other suspicion as well: the computer thought that the android was a mistake. He couldn't tell that directly, but the evidence seemed overwhelming. It kept running a self-check, and finding nothing wrong with its programming or hardware, it attempted another resurrection. But the pattern stored in the buffer could produce only an android, which triggered the self-check routine again. It was caught in an endless loop.
"Can't you bypass it somehow?" Mudd asked when he heard Spock and Scotty discussing the situation.
Spock tried to mimic the expression Mudd had worn earlier when Spock had failed to get his joke. It seemed to be the appropriate expression here as well. "There is no provision for input," Spock told him. "The computer was hard wired for this task and no other. And even if there were an input device, we do not understand the programming language. Nor would we know how to alter it without causing conflict with other subroutines, of which I identify at least twenty-five. Plus there is the matter of—"
"All right, all right," Mudd said, holding out his hands. "I get the picture. So if we can't bypass it, how can we convince it to give up?"
How indeed? Spock shook his head. "I do not believe the original programmers considered giving up to be an option."
"Then what do you suggest?"
He examined the possibilities. Logically, there was only one good alternative. "I suggest we convince it that it has succeeded."
Mudd had his hands on his hips, clearly enjoying the game of baiting Spock. "How do you plan to do that?" he asked.
"By providing it with the real Stella," Spock said. "We will have to find her and bring her back here for the computer to scan the moment after it resurrects another copy of the android."
He was embarrassed to admit that he derived some small satisfaction from watching Mudd turn absolutely white.
The argument burst onto the bridge with the suddenness and fury of a thunderstorm. A Harry Mudd-sized thunderstorm, to be sure, but in an enclosed space he was more than enough to rattle the furniture. Sulu winced as the turbolift doors slid open and Spock stepped out, chased by Mudd in mid-rant.
"…won't cooperate for a minute!" Mudd was saying. "She's a witch and a shrew and I have no intention of getting within ten parsecs of her ever again."
"Not even to save the lives of everyone caught in the Nevisian computer's pattern buffers?" Spock asked him.
"They put themselves there," Mudd protested. "I stopped the war; I didn't start it again."
"No, but you brought the android that locked up the computer. An interplanetery court would no doubt find you responsible for their deaths."
That made Mudd pause. Even if the Prime Directive didn't apply to him, murder was a capital crime no matter where it took place.
"All right," he said, "I'll tell you where she is, but only if you promise to drop me off somewhere else along the way."
"I make no such promise," said Spock. "You could lie to us about Stella's location. And until we know if bringing her here will work, you are responsible for the situation down there." He sat in the command chair and swiveled it sideways toward Mudd. "Captain Kirk's death will no doubt be the first one prosecuted, and that will be done in a military court."
Sulu heard Uhura gasp, and felt his heart skip a beat. "The captain is dead? I thought—"
"Unless he was resurrected before the android was damaged," said Spock, "which seems unlikely since we have not yet found him on either planet, then he is apparently in a state of suspended animation, stored as data encoded in the computer system that has, unfortunately, locked up."
"And bringing Stella Mudd here will unlock it?" Sulu asked.
"It might," said Spock. "We have no way of knowing for certain without testing the hypothesis directly. Unfortunately, we require Harry's cooperation, which he is reluctant to give."
Mudd laughed shrilly. "'Reluctant' isn't the word for it, Spock old boy. I'm not going back to her, and that's that."
Spock frowned. "You are not being logical." He said it as if he expected Mudd to collapse in shame at the accusation, but Mudd merely snorted.
Sulu saw the problem here: Spock was arguing like a Vulcan and trying to appeal to Harry's sense of responsibility. But Harry had no sense of responsibility. Only self-preservation.
"Mr. Spock," Sulu said, standing up from his duty station. "With all due respect, let me show you a better method of getting what we need."
Spock looked at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised, then said, "Proceed."
Sulu stepped closer to Mudd, who backed warily away, but he wasn't nearly quick enough. Sulu grabbed his right arm and spun him around to face the wall, yanking upward on it just as he had done with the Nevisian who had shot Chekov. Mudd yowled inarticulate protest, but Sulu didn't stop until he heard bones creak under the strain.
"Where is she, Harry?" he asked quietly.
"Spock! You can't allow this!" Harry screeched, trying to turn his head to catch Spock's eye, but Sulu kept him facing the wall. "This is an outrage!"
Spock did indeed seem uncomfortable with the spectacle of a Starfleet officer manhandling a civilian on the bridge of a starship, but Sulu held up his free hand, palm out, and shook his head. I won't hurt him, he mouthed silently.
Much, he added to himself.
He turned back to Mudd, who was flailing about ineffectually with his free hand. "The coordinates, Harry," he said, adding a bit more strain on his arm.
Uhura snickered.
"I'll file a protest! You'll be the ones facing the court-martial!"
"You'll be signing the papers with two broken arms and ten broken fingers," Sulu told him, never raising his voice. "Or you can give us the coordinates." He yanked upward again on Mudd's arm.
"Ow! You're—ow! All right, all right, but I demand—ow! I mean it. I demand separate quarters, and an armed guard for me at all times. If you don't promise me that much, I'll take the broken arms and fingers, because Stella will give me worse than that."
By the quaver in his voice, Sulu wondered if he was exaggerating. He must be…mustn't he? But they would provide Mudd with a guard anyway, just to make sure he didn't skip out, so it really didn't matter one way or the other. Sulu lightened up the pressure on his arm. "Deal," he said. "Now where do we find her?"
"The Hoffman system," Mudd said resignedly. "She's on York Three in the Hoffman system."
"Very good," said Spock. "Lieutenant Uhura, recall Ensign Chekov from his search. We will leave as soon as he arrives."
"Yes, sir," she said, but she hesitated before turning back to her comm panel. "Mr. Spock? While you were gone, our new orders came in from Admiral Tyers. We're supposed to rendezvous with the U.S.S. O'Halloran in the Duval system."
Spock nodded. "I see. I'm afraid we will have to miss that rendezvous. I will send her an explanation en route, but for now we will proceed to the Hoffman system."