Chapter 35: Mirror, Mirror

The Halkan Council was absolutely polite, but its position was rock-hard, and nothing that Kirk, McCoy, Scott or Dawn could say would alter it. The Federation was not to be allowed to mine dilithium crystals on the planet. There was too much potential for destruction in the crystals, and the Halkans would allow nothing to compromise their history of total non-violence. To prevent that, they said, they would die—as a race, if necessary. The Council accepted that the Federation's intentions were peaceful, but what of the future? There had been mention of the Klingon Empire . . .

Jim and Dawn would have liked to have stayed to argue the question further, but Buffy had contacted them about an ion storm of considerable violence was beginning to blow through the Halkan system—and in fact they could already see evidence of it in the Halkan weather, which was becoming decidedly lowering. To stay longer might risk disruption of transporter transmission, which would strand the landing party for an unknown time. In addition, it was Spock's opinion that the heart of the magnetic storm represented a danger to the Enterprise herself.

Jim ordered the landing party beamed up.

That hairline was very nearly split, this time. On the first attempt, the transporter got the party only partly materialized aboard ship when the beam suffered a phase reversal and all four of them found themselves standing on a bare plateau on the Halkan planet, illuminated only by a barrage of lightning. It was nearly five minutes later before the familiar Transporter Room sprang fully into being around them.

Jim stepped quickly from the platform toward Buffy. "We may or may not get those power crystals . . ."

And then he stopped, in midstep as well as midsentence. For Buffy and the transporter chief were saluting, and a most peculiar salute it was: the arms first folded loosely, then raised stiffly horizontal and squared out. Their uniforms were different, too; basically, they were the same as before, but they were much altered in detail, and the detail had a savage military flair—broad belts bearing exposed phasers and what seemed to be ceremonial daggers, shoulder boards, braid. And the Enterprise Delta symbol was gone; instead, there was a blazon which looked like the Earth with a dagger through it. A similar symbol, in brilliant color, was on one wall of the room, and the equipment was all in the wrong places—indeed, a few pieces of it were completely unfamiliar.

Dawn looked at her sister and she could feel the emotions rolling off Buffy. Emotions she had never felt coming from her sister before.

Jim dropped his hands to his belt—since he did not know how to return the strange salute—and encountered something else unfamiliar. A brief glance confirmed what he had feared: his uniform, too, had undergone the strange changes.

"At norm," Buffy said to the transporter chief, in a voice loaded with savage harshness. "Captain, do you mean the Halkans have weapons that could resist us? Our socioanalysis indicates that they are incapable of violence."

Jim could not answer. He was spared having to, for at that moment Sulu entered the Transporter Room. His movements, his manner, were cold, arrogant, hypercompetent, but that was not the worst of it. The symbol on his breast.

Sulu did not salute. He barked, "Status of mission, Captain?"

"No change," Jim said carefully.

"Standard procedure, then?"

Jim did not know what this question meant under these eerie circumstances, but he doubted that operating by the book—whatever the book might say—would accomplish much more than delaying matters, and time was what he needed. Therefore, he nodded.

Sulu turned to the nearest intercom. "Mr. Chekov. You will program phaser barrage on Halkan cities, at the rate of one million electron volts per day, in a gradually contracting circle around each. Report when ready."

"Right, Mr. Sulu."

"Unfortunate," Buffy said, "that they chose suicide to annexation. They could have been useful to the Empire."

There was the sputtering hum of an overload from the transporter. Buffy's head jerked toward the transporter chief, and then, slowly, inexorably, she advanced on the man. Incredibly, the transporter chief cringed.

"Are you not aware, chief, that we are in a magnetic storm? And that you were ordered to compensate?" she said.

"Commander Summers, ma'am, I'm sorry. The ion-flux is so unpredictable . . ."

"Carelessness with Empire equipment is intolerable." Buffy held out her hand toward Sulu, without looking. "Mr. Sulu, your agonizer."

Sulu plucked a small device from his belt and dropped it in Buffy's outstretched palm. As vicious as possible, Buffy clapped it to the transporter chief's shoulder.

The man screamed. Buffy prolonged the agony. When she let go, the chief dropped writhing to the deck.

"More attention to duty next time, please. Mr. Scott, the storm has produced minor damage in your section. Doctor McCoy, there are also some minor injuries requiring your attention." Abruptly, she kicked the semiconscious man on the floor. "You might begin with this hulk."

"Get moving, Dr. McCoy. You too, Mr. Scott," Jim said.

Their expressions flickered for a moment, and then both looked down. Now they knew how the Captain wanted them to play it.

The transporter chief dragged himself to his feet to follow. It did not seem to surprise him at all that the ship's doctor, who had just been ordered to attend to him, had not said a word to him. He said, "Commander Summers . . ."

"What?" Buffy answered.

"Ma'am, the beam power jumped for a moment, ma'am—just as the landing party materialized. I never saw anything like it before. I thought you ought to know, ma'am."

Buffy said, "Another inefficiency?"

"No, ma'am, the settings were perfectly normal. I made my error after the party arrived, sir, if I may so remind you."

"Very well. Go to Sickbay. Captain, do you feel any ill effects?"

Jim could answer that one with no trouble. "Yes, Buffy, I am decidedly shaken up. I expect Dawn is too. I believe we too had better report to Sickbay for a checkup."

"You will of course report instantly if you are found incompetent to command," Sulu said. It was not a question.

"Of course, Mr. Sulu."

"And the matter of the Halkans? A quick bombardment would solve the problem with the least effort."

"I am aware of your—orders—Mr. Sulu. I will give you my judgment as soon as I—feel myself assured that I am competent to give it."

"Most sensible."

As Jim and Dawn left, everyone again saluted—except Sulu. On the trip to Sickbay, Jim and Dawn became aware that there were more guards posted along the corridors than they had ever seen except during the worst kind of major alert. None of them were in standard uniforms; instead, they wore fatigues, like civilian workmen. All saluted. None seemed surprised not to have the salutes returned.

Dawn sighed as the door of Sickbay slid closed behind them and the four people who had been the landing party were once more alone together.

"Don't talk too fast," Jim said instantly, though he himself was talking as fast as he could possibly get the words out. He stabbed a finger toward McCoy's intercom. "Something in the air suggests that that thing is permanently open."

The rest nodded. It was a lucky thing that they had all been together so long; it made elliptical talk possible among them. "Now, Bones, that medical. I want you to check for likely effects. I suggest brainwaves first."

"I've already checked myself and Scotty, sir. No hallucinatory or hypnotic effects. We are dealing with—uh, a perception of reality, if you follow me."

"I'm afraid I do. Mr. Scott, do you detect any changes in the Enterprise which—might have a bearing on our reactions?"

Scott inclined his head and listened. "I hear some sort of difference in the impulse engines. Of course, they may just be laboring against the magnetic storm. However, the difference seems to me to be, well, technological in nature, sir."

Dawn made a gesture of someone fitting a bucket or a large hat over McCoy's intercom. The physician's eyebrows went up. He stepped to where his diagnostic apparatus should have been, veered in disgust as he found that it had been moved, and then flicked switches.

"I should have thought of that in the first place," he said, "but I'm as confused as anybody here. Everybody used to complain that my stereotaxic screen jammed the intercoms; let's hope it still does."

"Now that I can speak freely," Dawn said. "What I felt from Buffy was like nothing I had every felt before. Especially when … Talking about where is transporter chief by the way?"

"I made him mildly sick," McCoy said, "and sent him to quarters. A nasty reversal of role for a doctor, but I want him out of Buffy's reach for a while."

"Anyways when she used that device on him, I felt pure anger. I've felt Buffy angry before but nothing like that. It was malicious. This reminds me the transporter chief mentioned an abnormal effect in the transporter itself. And there's this ion storm."

"Captain," Scott said slowly, "are we thinking the same thing?"

"I don't know, Scotty," Jim said. "But everything fits thus far. It fits with a parallel universe, coexisting with ours, on another dimensional plane—or maybe on another level of probability; everything duplicated—almost. An Empire instead of a Federation. Another Enterprise—another Buffy . . ."

"Another Jim Kirk?" Scott said quietly. "Another Dr. McCoy? Another Dawn Summers?"

"No," McCoy said in startled realization. "An exchange! If we're here . . ."

"Our counterparts were beaming at the same time," Jim said. "Ion storms are common enough, after all. Another storm disrupted another set of circuits. Now we're here; they're on our ship, and probably asking each other much the same questions. And coming to the same tentative conclusions. They'll ask the computer what to do. That's what we'll have to do."

McCoy began to pace. "What about the Halkans? We can't let them be wiped out, even if this is another, completely different set of Halkans, in another universe."

"I don't know, Bones. I've got to buy a lot of time. Scotty, get below and short the main phaser coupling. Make it look like the storm blew the standby circuits. Dawn, do you still remember your way around a communication's station?" Dawn nodded. "Run today's communications from Starfleet Command, or whatever the equivalent is here. I've got to know my exact orders, and options, if any. And by the way, when we want to talk to each other after we're separated, use communicators, and on the subspace band only. And scramble, too."

Dawn and the engineer nodded and left.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

On the bridge, there was a huge duplicate of the Earth-and-dagger, and the Captain's chair had widely flared arms, almost like a throne. The man who should be Chekov was eyeing Dawn with open, deliberate, speculative interest, his intent unmistakable. Nobody else seemed to find it unusual or even interesting that Dawn had relieved Uhura and taken her station. Kirk went directly to her.

"Any new orders, Commander?"

"No, sir. You are still ordered to annihilate the Halkans, unless they comply. No alternative action has been prescribed."

"Thank you." He went to his chair and sank in. It felt downright luxurious. "Report, Mr. Sulu?"

"Phasers locked on Target A, Captain. Approaching optimum range. Shall I commence fire?"

"I want a status report first." He touched the intercom. "Mr. Scott?"

"Scott here, sir. I have no change to report, sir. No damage to phasers."

"Very good, Mr. Scott." In fact, it was very bad, but there was no help for it. As he switched out, Buffy came onto the bridge.

"The planet's rotation is carrying the primary target beyond arc of phaser lock," Sulu said. "Shall I correct orbit to new firing position?"

"No."

Sulu flicked a switch. "Now locked on secondary target city."

"Commander Summers," Kirk said. "You said the Halkans could be useful. After my visit with them, I agree."

"I have my doubts, Jim," Buffy said. "After all they have chosen not to cooperate."

"Dawn, contact the Halkan Council. We'll make one more try." Noting Buffy's surprise, he added, "This is a new race. They offer other things of value besides dilithium crystals."

"But—it is clear that we cannot expect cooperation. They have refused the Empire. Command Procedure dictates that we provide the customary example. A serious breach of Standard Orders . . ."

"I have my reasons, Commander—and I'll make them clear in my own good time."

"Captain," Dawn said, "the Halkan leader is waiting on Channel B."

Kirk swung to the small viewscreen above Uhura's station. Tharn was on the screen. He looked much tireder, indeed more tragic, than he had when Kirk had seen him last. Now, how would it be possible to make this sound plausible?

"It is useless to resist us," he said at random.

"We do not resist you," Tharn said,

"You have, uh, twelve hours in which to reconsider your position."

"Twelve years, Captain Kirk, or twelve thousand, will make no difference," Tharn said calmly and with great dignity. "We are ethically compelled to refuse your demand for dilithium crystals. You would use their power to destroy."

"We will level your planet and take what we want. That is destruction. You would die as a race . . ."

"To preserve what we are. Yes. Perhaps someday your slave planets will all defy you, as we have done. When that comes, how will your starships be able to control a whole galaxy?"

"Switch out, Commander." The screen went blank.

"Twelve hours, Captain?" Buffy said. "That is unprecedented."

"Phasers off, Mr. Sulu."

"This conduct must be reported, Captain," Spock said. "You have placed yourself in a most grave position."

"You are at liberty to do so, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, rising. "Buffy, take charge. I will be in the briefing room. Inform me of any change. Dawn, attend me there and order Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott also to report there. Mr. Chekov, relieve Dawn."

He could only hope that this flurry of orders, plus his breach of an unknown regulation, would obscure the fact that he had just called together the landing party.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Everybody watch your step," Scott said. "They move up through assassination around here. My engine-room chief just tried for me—not personally, but through henchmen. I only got out of it because one of them switched sides."

"What about the technology, Scotty?" Jim asked.

"Mostly variations in instrumentation. Nothing I can't handle. As for star-readings—everything's where it ought to be—except us."

Kirk crossed to the desk and looked down at the computer tap. "Let's see what we're up against. Computer, this is the Captain. Record a Security Research, to be classified under my voiceprint, Commander Dawn Summers and Mr. Scott's."

"Recorded," said the computer in a harsh masculine voice. Evidently this universe had never discovered that men pay more attention to a machine when its voice is feminine.

"Produce all data relevant to recent magnetic storm, and correlate following hypothesis. Could a storm of that magnitude cause a power surge in transporter circuits, creating momentary interdimensional contact with a parallel universe?"

"Affirmative."

"At such a moment, could persons in each universe, in the act of beaming, be transposed with their counterparts in the other universe?"

"Affirmative."

"Can conditions necessary to such an event be artificially reproduced?"

"Affirmative."

"Record procedure and switch off."

A slot in the desk opened and a spool of tape slid out. Kirk handed it to Scott. "It looks like the ball is yours, Scotty."

"I'll have to tap the power for it out of the warp engines, and balance it for the four of us," the engineer said dubiously. "It's a two-man job, and I'm afraid you'd be too conspicuous, Captain. So would Dawn." Dawn nodded in agreement. She would be too conspicuous, even though she had the training. Most ship's crew would not expect her to help Scott. "Come on, McCoy, let's lay it out."

"I'm not an engineer," McCoy said indignantly.

"You will be. Captain, keep up our public relations, please!"

The two went out. After a moment, Dawn said, "Jim, I admit I am interested in seeing who we are here."

Jim had to admit he too was interested. "Let's find out. Computer. Readout of official record of current command."

"Captain: James T. Kirk. Succeeded to command I. S. S. Enterprise through assassination of Captain Christopher Pike. First action: suppression of Gorlan uprising, through destruction of rebel home planet. Second action: execution of five thousand colonists on S Doradus Nine, forcing colony to retract secession. Third action . . ."

"Cancel. Dawn, do you really want to hear it tell you what you're like?"

"No. Though I do wonder how many assassination attempts she has gone through."

"Quite a few, which means I wonder if the crew knows about your longevity, since you and Buffy can't die for about another 700 some years."

"It's possible," Dawn said and then she thought of something. "Computer, list romantic associations for Commander Dawn Summers."

"Prime Romantic Association: Captain James T. Kirk. Secondary Romantic Association: Commander Buffy Summers."

"Well Buffy, I expected," Dawn said. "As that is technically the same in our world. But you that is not something I expected. But with the way Chekov was staring at me, it makes sense. He was very likely coveting me."

"Maybe," Jim said. "Which also means you and I will need to seem friendly in front of the crew. You up for it?"

Dawn sighed. "Yeah. You know I wonder what do you suppose our counterparts are doing, aboard our version of the Enterprise?"

"I hope they're faking as well as or better than we are. Otherwise, when we get back, we'll all be up on charges." The intercom beeped. "Kirk here."

"Sir, I'm having trouble on this line, I can barely hear you."

"Right." Kirk switched off, produced his communicator, and set it to subspace level and on "scramble." "Okay, Scotty, here I am. Go ahead."

"We can do it, Captain. But when we interrupt engine circuits, to tie in the power increase to the transporters, it'll show up on the Security Board. We'll just need a second, but . . ."

"All right, wait a minute." Kirk thought fast. "Dawn, this is going to be nasty. Maybe you can use what we were talking about to keep Sulu busy."

"Yeah," Dawn said.

"Good. Scotty, Dawn can create a diversion on the bridge, which will draw Sulu's attention, I think, at your signal. Now, everyone back to posts, before somebody cottons to the fact that this looks like a council of war."

Dawn slipped out silently. Kirk, too, was about to go, when Buffy entered the briefing room by another door, and saluted.

"Captain, a word with you, if I may."

"Of course."

"I should regret your death."

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Very kind of you, Buffy."

"It has nothing to do with being kind," Buffy said. "You know I have never been interested in Captain, or I would have assassinated John on the NX-01. That said I have to inquire if you intend to persist in your unusual course of action regarding the Halkans."

"My orders stand."

"I presume you have a plan. I have found you to be an excellent officer. Our missions together have been successful ones."

"I remember," Kirk said. "Perhaps better than you do."

"I never forget anything."

"I remember that too. You of all people know what it's like to fight an insurmountable foe."

Buffy sighed and nodded. "I do. You think if we can show some patience… But the Empire sadly will begin to rot if we don't maintain the terror."

"The Halkans made the same point. Is history with us? Conquest is easy—control is not."

"I have lived through two hundred years of history," Buffy said. "I will admit that no regime such as ours has ever survived the eventual fury of its victims. The question is can we make a change that will not cause our entire downfall? Space is against us; its sheer vastness makes communication difficult, let alone control."

There was quite a long silence.

"Sir," Buffy said finally, "I have received a private message from Starfleet Command. I am committing a serious breach of regulations by informing you of its contents. But other considerations supervene. Briefly, I have been instructed to wait until planet dawn over principal target, to permit you to complete our mission. Your delaying maneuver was of course reported to Starfleet Command by Mr. Sulu."

"And if I don't?"

"In that event," Buffy said, her voice somehow both harsh and reluctant at the same time, "I am ordered to have you killed, and proceed against the Halkans, as the new Captain of the Enterprise."

"Thank you for warning me, Buffy," Jim said bitterly.

"I regret the situation. I shall remain in my quarters throughout the night—in case you should wish to contact me privately."

"Thank you again. But there will be no change."

"Sir—under the circumstances—may I express the greatest curiosity concerning your motives?"

"I'm almost tempted to tell you, Buffy. But you'll understand in time. Carry on."

When Buffy left, Kirk sat down at the table. He knew he should be back on the bridge, carrying on the masquerade. But even with Buffy's odd sort of cooperation, even supposing Scotty could get them back to their own universe, that would leave the biggest problem unsolved: the fate of the Halkans in this alternate universe. No matter what happened to Dawn, Kirk, McCoy and Scott, the Halkans seemed to be destined for slaughter. And he could think of no way to prevent it.

Then the communicator beeped. "Kirk here."

"Captain, this is Scotty. I've got the whole thing rigged, with McCoy's help. I'm thinking of making him assistant engineer. But in checking it out with the computer, I discovered somethin' vurra worrisome. The two-way matter transmission affected local field density between the two universes—and it's increasing. We've got to move fast. We have half an hour at most. If we miss, we couldn't push back through for a century."

"What's the procedure, Scotty?"

"We're about ready to bridge power from the warp engines to the beams. You've got to go to the main controls and free the board, so we can lock in. Give us ten minutes, then you and Commander Summers create your diversion, and then run for the Transporter Room."

"Right. Count down on the time. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . hack."

"Got you. Good luck, Captain."

No time now to worry about the Halkans; but Kirk worried, nonetheless. On the bridge, Sulu looked speculatively, coldly, at Kirk as Kirk resumed the Captain's chair.

"Orders, Captain?"

"Prepare to lock on to Target A. We fire at planet dawn," Kirk said.

Sulu smiled coldly. "I am glad to see that you have come to your senses. All this computer activity obviously has produced no alternative answer, except to make me wonder if you had gone soft. And while First Officer Summers would no doubt make an excellent captain, you were once clearly the better one. I hope you will continue to be."

Kirk was so sick at the order he had had to give that he did not bother to disguise his disgust. "You don't miss much, do you, Mr. Sulu."

"A good Security Officer misses nothing. Otherwise he would deserve to go to the Agony Booth."

The Halkan planet's image was showing on Dawn's viewscreen. Chekov was watching her, with very much the same expression as before. She looked up at the image, and then, as if to herself, said, "Just once, I'd like to think about something besides death."

Sulu shot one contemptuous glance at her and went back to watching the master board. When Scott made his power switch from the warp engines to the transporters, he would catch it.

Dawn looked away from the screen toward Chekov.

The navigator grinned, leaned back in his seat. His arm went out and around toward Dawn's waist.

Sulu paid no attention. And there was one-minute left.

Slap!

Sulu looked up. Dawn was standing, in furious indignation. She fell back, one, two, three calculated steps toward Sulu's board. Chekov, astonishment changing to rage, was standing too.

But Sulu seemed to be no more than amused. "As you were, Chekov."

Chekov was not ready to be as he was. He seemed almost ready to attack Dawn. Kirk saw an opening and jumped in.

"Is this the kind of horseplay that goes on when I'm not on the bridge? Making a play for she who is mine. Mr. Chekov, you are on report; I'll tend to you later. Dawn, you provoked this; proceed immediately to the Booth. Mr. Sulu, take Dawn's post."

"Sir," Sulu said. "Why are you also leaving?" The 'sir' was silkily insulting.

"I am going to explain personally to Dawn why she is in the Booth. I'll return shortly; in the meantime, follow standard procedure."

He had caught the streak of sadism and lechery in these loathsome counterparts of his crew. Every man on the bridge grinned slyly and licked his lips.

Then Kirk and Dawn were out, and running for the Transporter Room.

Buffy, Spock and two crewmen were waiting for them there, with drawn phasers.

"Well, Buffy? Have you decided to kill me now, even though I am following my orders?"

"No, Jim. Spock and I both have noticed strange things since yours and Dawn's return."

"Including some remarkable calls upon the computer," Spock said.

"When Spock told me about them, I did some checking and found them sealed against me," Buffy said. "Nothing in the computer should be sealed against the First Officer."

"And you are preparing to use an enormous surge of power in the transporter," Spock said. "That could be most dangerous."

"I must ask you: where do you think you are going, Jim—you, my sister, the doctor and Scotty?" Buffy asked.

"Home," Dawn said.

"To the alternate universe?" Buffy asked.

Dawn nodded. "Yes, Buffy," she said as Scotty and McCoy joined them.

"You remind me of my Dawn back before…" Buffy said.

"Before the Empire," Dawn said as Buffy nodded. "Back before we were Millennial. I will admit what I felt from you was disturbing."

"I had to pretend for so long that I got caught up in the role," Buffy said. "Now you must return so my sister can come back. Hopefully after being in your universe she will be able to control what she feels and not revert to being that person."

"I hope so," Dawn said.

"I will operate the transporter," Spock said. "You have two minutes and twenty seconds left."

"Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "I will shave that time as close as possible. I want to ask you this: How long do you think it will be before the Halkans' prediction of galactic revolt is realized?"

Spock blinked, as if the sudden change of subject had taken him unawares. "I would estimate—approximately two hundred and forty years."

"And what will be the inevitable outcome?" Dawn wondered.

"The Empire will be overthrown, of course. A sort of federation may replace it, if the period of interdestruction is not too devastating."

"Buffy," Dawn said. "You and Spock can make a change."

"You have one minute and twenty-three seconds," Spock said.

"One person can make a difference," Buffy said with a nod. "Do you think after what happened before the battle with the First that…"

"That you can be Captain," Dawn said. "I do, Buffy. In any universe. Be the Captain of this Enterprise. Find a reason for sparing the Halkans, and making it stick. Push where it gives. You can defend yourself better than any person in the fleet, and with Spock as your first officer you can make that difference."

"In every revolution, there's one person with a vision," Kirk said. "Which will it be? Past or future? Tyranny, or the right to hope, trust, love?"

"You must go," Spock said. "But our Captain never said any such words to us. We will remember them."

"We can promise nothing else, though we will save the Halkans if we can," Buffy said.

"Now, quickly! You have eighteen seconds left! Shoot! And goodbye, Jim Kirk," Spock said.

Dawn and Kirk stepped onto the transporter platform with the others as Spock beamed them out.