"Screen off." Kirk said, and the image of Janet
Mentsumo faded from view. "All the First In reports
are similar. They experienced similar phenomena to
those we encountered and survived by locking
themselves into rooms stripped of all mobile objects.
Lieutenant Commander Harry Pateman played a large, a
crucial role in their survival. I intent to recommend
him for posthumous decoration both for his actions in
preserving the lives of his team under extraordinary
difficult circumstances and for the sacrifice of his
life to save the life of Lieutenant Larssen and
enable her to complete her mission. If Ms Larssen
had not reached Commander Spock and I when she did, I
doubt we would have made it to the shuttle-bay prior
to detonation of the torpedoes, so both Commander
Spock and myself owe him our lives as well."
Uhura nodded sombrely; Chekov looked down at his
hands.
"You have all filed your personal reports." Kirk
said. "They are largely in accord with each other,
with the differences of individual experience. We'll
hear your section reports in a moment. Before that
we'll hear from Commander Spock and Lieutenant
Larssen, and I'll try to fill in the gaps.
Commander?"
Spock steepled his hands. Few traces remained of his
ordeal, and despite being relieved of duty he was
impeccably dressed in uniform as usual. "Captain."
he said in acknowledgment. "My perspective on the
events at the end of our mission to Starbase 34 is
somewhat different to those of the rest of the crew."
His report was precise, unemotional, detailed where
necessary and sweeping where not. The lack of
hesitation, the care with which he had chosen his
words, told Kirk that his first officer had prepared
his thoughts well before the meeting.
"It is my considered opinion," he finished, "that the
entity we encountered was not a mature example of its
species, although there is also the possibility that
this is an artefact of the fact that the first human
mind it took over was that of a child. I consider
this possibility to be small."
"Which means," McCoy said, "that somewhere out there
may be its parents."
"Indeed, this is a probability that has occurred to
me - although not in such speciesistic terms, Doctor.
Mature members of the same species may very well
exist, either in explored Federation space or outside
it. It seems likely that such members would be more
powerful that the one we encountered."
"Terrific." someone muttered.
"It also seems likely," Spock said, "That they would
be more sophisticated, which would be of more
concern. The brute psychic force of the creature we
encountered was certainly considerable, but with
preparation and the presence of sufficient
psionically talented individuals, even a far greater
force could be resisted and defeated. What made this
entity ultimately vulnerable to me was its lack of
sophistication. It sought to manipulate the minds of
those it encountered, but it did so with a very crude
understanding, gained from the surface of the mind
and filtered through the appetites of an infant." He
paused. "A more complex comprehension of our natures
might well have provided weapons that we would have
found irresistible."
"Let's hear from Lieutenant Larssen." Kirk said.
"Sulu, call her in."
Sulu, closest to the door, did so.
Larssen, like Spock, had not taken the opportunity of
being relieved of duty to dress in civilian clothes.
Her boots were polished, her tunic pressed and clean,
her hair pulled tidily away from her face. Oddly,
though, her collar pips were missing.
"Lieutenant," Kirk said. "Take a seat." There was
an empty chair at the end of the table, set ready for
whoever should be called to give further evidence to
the briefing, and Larssen walked to it as if it were
the electric chair used in the barbaric executions of
the twentieth century. She sat down gingerly,
folded her hands on the table and looked up to meet
Kirk's eyes.
Bruised. If he hadn't known that McCoy was
dispensing sedatives to every crew member who had
been on the station and standing over them to see
they were taken, Kirk would have thought Larssen
hadn't slept at all since Starbase 34.
"Lieutenant." Kirk said. "Will you go through, for
the briefing, your recollection of what happened in
the time you were separated from other crew members?"
A tiny flinching, a narrowing of her eyes, as if he
had suddenly shone a bright light in her face, and
she looked down and sideways and away.
"Initially I encountered similar phenomena to the
rest of the crew." she said, telling the story to her
hands where they lay on the table top. "I was
directed towards the core of Starbase 34 and
prevented from returning to the shuttle-bay. Do you
want a more complete report of the phenomena, sir?"
"Not at present." Kirk said. "We'll develop a
complete catalogue at a later time."
"Yes, sir. Eventually I found myself in the science
labs near the core. In one of those labs I
encountered what appeared to be a child. A young
girl, who told me her name was Loretta."
"If I may, Lieutenant." Spock said, and when she
nodded her acquiescence to an interruption, he went
on: "Captain, Starbase 34 records - and my own
understandings - indicate that this was Loretta
McComb, age six, with scores of nine point five and
eight point four on receptive and projective
telepathy respectively."
Larssen's head came up fast and she stared at Spock.
"A real child?" she said through white lips.
"More precisely, what had been 'a real child'." Spock
said. "I very much doubt that the being you
encountered was, in any sense other than the
physical, Loretta McComb."
"She asked me to help her." Larssen whispered,
audible to the others only because of the absolute
silence in the briefing room. Even the scratch of
McCoy's stylus had stopped. "I didn't help her. She
asked me to help her."
"The being that asked for your help," Spock said,
"was in no wise Loretta McComb."
"I thought it was - like the rest. Not real. Not
real. But it was real. It was a real child. She
was real." Larssen's gaze travelled around the room
but she was not seeing anything in it. From the look
on her face, what she was seeing was Hell itself.
Kirk looked sharply at McCoy and saw him already
sliding one hand down to where his 'black bag' sat by
his chair.
"There was nothing left of Loretta McComb by the time
the Enterprise arrived at Starbase 34." Spock said.
"Lieutenant. Lieutenant Larssen, your attention, if
you please!"
The note of sarcasm, of disapproval, in his voice was
more suited to an ensign wool-gathering at his or her
station, and McCoy's mouth opened to protest, then
closed as Larssen blinked and focussed on Spock.
~Nicely done, Spock,~ Kirk thought, ~nothing like a
well trained Pavlovian response in a crisis.~
"There was nothing left of Loretta McComb by the time
the Enterprise arrived at Starbase 34." Spock said,
with the same calm assurance he would have used to
announce the freezing temperature of oxygen.
"But you - and I -"
"Were not taken over by the entity. The cases are
not similar. Believe me, Lieutenant, I gained
sufficient understanding of the entity and its
history to be certain that there was nothing left of
Loretta McComb's katra by the time you encountered
the being that had taken over her body."
"Katra?" Uhura asked.
"The closest human term would be soul." Spock said
austerely. "Although even more imprecise than is
usual in human linguistic phrases, it conveys some
similar conceptual structures."
"I hope you're right, sir." Larssen said, her gaze
fixed on her hands again. "I surely hope you're
right."
"What happened next?" Kirk asked gently.
"She - *it* - knew everything about me." Larssen
said, and stopped.
"What do you mean by that?" Kirk prompted.
"Everything." Larssen said. It came out as a croak.
She swallowed hard. "It knew - it felt like it knew
- everything about my past. It showed me - it talked
to me and it showed me in my mind - my - hopes,
dreams, that sort of thing." Her voice was steady
now, scientific dispassion, an officer making a
report. Her hands were white knuckled. "The common
factor in all of them was emotional content, sir.
Strength of emotional response. It promised me that
it could change the past, and the future, to make my
life - well, everything I could desire, sir."
"In order to evoke an emotional response?" Kirk
asked. "Like the other phenomena?"
"No, sir. To get control of the firing codes for the
station phasers. To destroy the Enterprise. That's
why it targeted me, Captain. As the least resistant
of the officers with high enough code clearance."
"It told you that?"
"No. I was - it was in my mind, and it kept me out
of its, but I saw something. An image."
"When it talked to you, did it speak Standard?" Uhura
asked.
"Yes." Larssen said, surprised, and then stopped. A
small upright line appeared between her brows. "No."
she said slowly. "No. At first it did. Mostly it
did. But sometimes it spoke to me in Initari. When
- when the things it was - showing me - were from
there."
"Thank you." Uhura said.
"Lieutenant, you refused to give it the codes - to
give in to it. What happened when you refused?" Kirk
asked.
"It hurt me. Threatened to make the past, and the
future, everything I *wouldn't* desire, sir. Caused
me physical pain and exploited my psychological
weaknesses and vulnerabilities."
"How did you escape?"
"I *did* escape, sir." Larssen said, looking up at
him briefly, a flinching about her eyes.
"I don't doubt you." Kirk said. "Your escape may
provide clues for ways to deal with any of these
entities Starfleet encounters in the future."
"Yes, sir." Every muscle in her body rigid, a muscle
tic starting beneath her eye. "I don't know exactly
how, sir. It's hard to remember. She - *it* -
changed everything, sir. Made me see the past in a
new way." ~ The real way.~ "Made me see myself. I
remember - I tried to be strong but there wasn't
anything left to be strong with. I fell down. I
couldn't get up. And then - then - the floor. The
bench. The girl. Asking for help. Asking - me -
for help. I remember the noise her head made on the
wall. I remember blood. I don't remember what I
did." Looking up now, meeting his gaze, face
stretched with the effort to keep back tears. " I
know what I did. I don't remember but I know. I
killed her. I don't know how many times I needed to
bash her head against that wall. I know I did it
more than was necessary. I didn't think of saving
the ship. I didn't think of doing my duty. I didn't
think of anything. I just - I just -" She took two
hard breaths and covered her mouth with one hand,
clamping her lips shut with her fingers as if to
prevent any more words escaping.
McCoy pushed his PADD across to Kirk. ENOUGH, the
doctor had scrawled.
Kirk tended to agree. If Lieutenant Larssen had
further information that would be useful to
Starfleet, it would take methods other than standard
debriefing to uncover it.
"Thank you, Lieutenant." he said. "You may go."
She was on her feet in an instant, overturning her
chair in her haste and blundering unsteadily against
the table when she tried to right it. Chekov
steadied her with one hand, set the chair upright
with the other. Larssen nodded her thanks, pulled
her uniform straight with a jerk and paused.
"Captain." she said. "I killed her because of what
she did to me. What she showed me about - what she
showed me." She hurried from the room.
"Comments?" Kirk said into the silence.
"I think you can probably take my comments as read."
McCoy said dryly.
"We'll get into that later, Bones." Kirk said. "What
about the rest of you?"
"The language issue is interesting." Uhura said.
"Commander Spock, did it use verbal or sub-verbal
communication with you?"
"Yes." Spock said. He stirred slightly in his seat.
"In what language?"
"Standard and Vulcan." Spock said.
"Captain," Uhura said, "The entity's choice of
languages appropriate to the subject indicates
either the ability to rapidly learn languages from
mental contact - or - Commander, was the Vulcan
fluent?"
"Yes?"
"Idiomatic?"
"Yes."
"It may be bypassing the linguistic interface
altogether and evoking language response directly
within the subject." Uhura said. "Which would mean
a considerable ability to penetrate the mental
structure of the subject. What do you think,
Commander?"
"I experienced distinct differences between the
'verbal' and 'pictorial' kinds of communication."
Spock said. "These were clearly different modes, not
merely my own mental imposition of a verbal structure
on non-verbal communication. However, initial
contact with me - and from Lieutenant Larssen's
account, with her also - was verbal. It is a much
more difficult mental task to induce linguistic
response in a subject than to project images, even
images drawn from the subject's own recollections and
imagination and then distorted, as this entity did."
"Would the two of you take mercy on me and explain
the importance of this?" Kirk asked.
"The entity's most intimate victims experienced in
some of its communications in languages the entity
couldn't have known beforehand." Uhura said. "Either
rapid language learning or bypass of linguistic
interface are extremely difficult. To give you some
indication, a Starfleet officer with such abilities
would be rated as a Special."
"He or she would not be allowed to serve on a ship of
the line." Spock elaborated. "He or she would not be
allowed to *go* on a ship of the line without
specific clearance from Starfleet Command. He or she
would most likely be required to remain at the Vulcan
Academy of Sciences, PsiCorp Headquarters or one of a
small number of similar institutions. Persons
without training in the mental sciences and arts
would not be allowed to approach him or her except
under exceptional circumstances with careful
briefing. There are, to my knowledge, precisely
seven hundred and fifty three 'Special class'
psychics in the entire Federation." He steepled his
hands. "If one of these had attacked the Enterprise
with malevolent intent I guarantee you not one of us
would have survived. The combination of such
extensive abilities with the unsophisticated and
poorly targeted attacks is further indication that
this was a powerful, but inexperienced and partially
developed, creature."
"Great news." McCoy said. "What you're saying is
that when Mommy Entity and Poppy Entity come looking
for their baby, they're gonna be able to swat us like
a fly."
"Indeed, Doctor, I believe that is what I was
saying."
"Sair," Chekov said, "I have used the Enterprise
sensor data from our approach to Starbase 34 and the
data prior to and during the detonation of the re-
engineered torpedoes to refine the firing pattern.
It vould be possible for almost all Starfleet wessels
to carry six modified torpedoes and a pre-programmed
firing pattern for encounters vith any similar
beings."
"Very good, Mr Chekov. We'll transmit that data to
Starfleet command on high priority squirt right
away."
"Using Mr Iyen's scanning device, all ships - whether
armed or not - can be equipped to detect similar
entities." Spock added. "It is not yet certain that
this will provide sufficient warning, but it may do
so."
"We'll squirt that as well. I presume these
modifications are underway on the Enterprise
already?"
"Aye, sair." Chekov said. "Torpedo modifications and
firing pattern complete."
"As are the modifications to the scanners." Spock
said. "Mr Iyen, as current Acting Head of Science,
has ordered scans at maximum range."
"Anything else?" Kirk asked.
"Only, sir," Scotty said, "that I beg ye to be a
little kinder to my bairns!"
"Noted, Scotty."
"Captain," Sulu said, "I've been investigating the
riot on board the Enterprise in our absence of
Starbase 34."
Kirk nodded; tactical and security were departments
that Sulu and Chekov shared between them, and with
Chekov occupied with the possible external threats to
the ship it was sensible for Sulu to take on the
internal threat. "What have you found out?" he asked.
"The descriptions of poor judgement, impulsive
reactions and anger, fear and violence match up with
everything else we've recorded about people on the
edge of the entity's affect range. Starfleet
personnel were also affected, but managed to one
degree or another to overcome the external influence,
due no doubt to their training."
"Sir," Scotty said, "It pains me t'admit it, but I
was one of them. I dunno if I would hae come to me
own senses if it were not for Harry Pateman. The
civilians - go easy on them, sir."
"Indeed," Spock said, "while First In personnel were
largely able to resist the entity's attack, they were
almost completely disabled by it - as we observed
when we first encountered them on the Starbase. Even
many Enterprise personnel, with their more specific
and advanced training and conditioning, were rendered
helpless, or nearly so. Untrained, and most
importantly unprepared, civilians could not be
expected to do - other than they did."
"Mr Sulu, your recommendation?" Kirk asked.
"As Commander Scott's, sir. They had no preparation,
no understanding of the possibility of external
mental influence, and no training to fall back on.
Very few of them have *any* previous criminal record,
and the twelve who do all have juvenile property
crimes on their sheets - *no* violence or crimes
against persons, typical kid stuff."
"Is property crime 'typical' for human children?"
Spock asked austerely.
"In some societies, and some socio-economic groups,
having nothing but property crime on your rap sheet
is the equivalent of being class president in the
social responsibility stakes." Kirk said. "Infinite
diversity, Spock. Mr Sulu, are our refugee
passengers currently a threat to the ship's
security."
"They're locked down in cargo." Sulu said. "Security
on the doors. And, sir, I'd say that even if they
were loose they'd be no appreciable threat. They're
getting psychological help as well as medical
attention, but they're going to need plenty of
counselling."
"As will we all." McCoy said. "Jim, can we have a
trickle-down briefing on post traumatic stress?"
"Are you sure you want to put that responsibility on
some of the junior officers?" Kirk asked. A
'trickle-down' briefing meant the captain told the
section heads; the section heads told their top
staff; those staff told the ones beneath them and so
on down to the ensigns. It had the advantage of
giving crew at all levels of the chain of command a
sense of responsibility for the carrying out of the
orders involved, which made for fewer oversights, and
also of sharpening and training command practices at
all levels. The disadvantage was that officers with
little command experience could feel overburdened
with responsibility. "At this time, Bones, they've
been through an awful lot to ask them to take this
on."
"That's exactly why I want to do it this way." McCoy
said. "We're all old enough to know we can't do it
*all* ourselves, *all* the time. There are plenty of
junior officers on this ship who remember 'post
traumatic stress' as a one hour lecture at the
Academy that didn't have any application to their
own, invincible, selves. Making them responsible for
explaining it to their teams and monitoring for
instances of it means they'll have to read my
briefing top to bottom and they'll be aware that
failing to seek help themselves endangers the welfare
of their team members." Then he grinned. "Not that
we won't be looking over their shoulders from
sickbay, of course. But don't tell *them* that."
"Noted. All section heads, when you get the briefing
document from Bones, get started on it. I'll pass it
on to Mr Iyen later."
"Aye, sir." they said.
"Anything else?" A few beats of silence. "Reports
to me at the end of shift, people. All right,
dismissed. Bones, Spock, wait a moment."
The others went out. Kirk waited until the doors
hissed shut behind them and then slumped down in his
chair. "If you gentlemen don't object," he said, "I'm
going to take off my boots. I feel like I've had
them on since we left Space Dock."
"I don't object," McCoy said, "if you don't object
to me complaining about the smell of your feet."
"Oh, let's not get into personal hygiene." Kirk said,
putting his stockinged feet up on the table and
sighing with pleasure. "I remember one time Spock
and I had to pick you up out of the drunk tank at
Regulus Nine after -"
"That was four years ago!" McCoy said.
"The memory lingers, doctor." Spock said. "As did
the smell." As Kirk had leaned back in his chair and
McCoy had slumped forward over his folded arms, Spock
had also relaxed. Spock relaxed, of course, was
hardly discernable from Spock at parade rest.
"Well, if you're going to gang up on me, I'll just
have to wait until your next physicals to get even."
"Doctor," Spock said soberly, "since you have made
that threat exactly one hundred fourteen times since
your arrival on the Enterprise, and our mandatory
physicals are half-yearly, I estimate that it will
take you fifty seven years to carry out your threats.
Since in fifty seven years it is unlikely that we
three will still serve on the same ship, further
provocation on our part will not lead to further
retaliation on yours. In other words, Doctor, your
empty threat is hardly an effective deterrent."
"Well, I have no more doubts. *You're* back to
normal, you pointy-eared adding machine!" McCoy
snorted. "I think I liked you better when you were
throwing furniture. At least you weren't talking
about logic. Much."
"I've got to get my report in to Starfleet." Kirk
said. "And then I think we should all get some -"
~Sleep,~ he'd been going to say. He shuddered.