A contest of principles, p.32
A Contest of Principles, page 32
“Can you pinpoint his location via his communicator?” Kirk asked.
“Aye, Captain. His communicator has not been switched off. He’s just not responding.”
“Because he can’t or won’t?” Kirk wondered aloud. His course was clear to him. “Contact the transporter room. Prepare to transport Chekov, Bradley, and me to his current location.”
“Acknowledged, sir,” Uhura replied. “Stand by.”
Kirk stepped out from behind the pedestal and signaled Sulu, who came over to join him. “I’m needed elsewhere, and I’m taking Chekov and Bradley for backup.” Ensign Lisa Bradley was also assigned to this voting center; Kirk judged one or two fewer officers on the site were unlikely to make a difference, especially if VP-One disintegrated. “I’m leaving this location in your hands. Hold down the fort.”
“Absolutely, Captain.” Sulu was perceptive enough to pick up on his captain’s mood. “Is there a problem, sir?”
There was no time to fully brief Sulu on the crisis, nor did Kirk have much in the way of real information. “That’s what I need to find out. Keep watch here and await further instructions as needed.”
“Understood, Captain.” The helmsman was surely curious, but he kept any additional questions to himself. He nodded at Kirk. “Good luck, sir.”
“Thank you, Sulu.” Kirk recruited a security detail via his communicator. “Kirk to Chekov and Bradley. We need to deal with a possible issue involving computer security. Prepare for transport.”
“Aye, Captain,” Chekov replied from the balcony.
“Acknowledged, sir,” Bradley responded as well. She was not in Kirk’s line of vision, but he knew she was posted in and about the plaza. “May I ask where we’re going, sir?”
“To round up some missing technical support.” Kirk figured he could brief them on site. “Assuming nothing’s happened to him.”
“Captain,” Uhura broke in. “The transporter room is ready to beam you to the requested coordinates.”
“Which is where, exactly?”
“An administrative building on the other side of the city. It’s the same location where you and Commissioner Dare first beamed down to the planet.”
Kirk remembered that initial meeting with the candidates and their aides. He also recalled Tanaka showing off a sophisticated computer station linked to Vok Populi. Was Tanaka already coping with the crisis on his own? If he was frantically trying to abort the self-destruct sequence, that might explain why he was too busy or distracted to answer Uhura’s hails.
“Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Three to beam over. Energize.”
A familiar tingle enveloped him. In the split second before he dematerialized entirely, he glimpsed the dazzling sparkle of the transporter effect flashing up on the balcony where Chekov was posted. In the plaza, the men were several meters apart, both horizontally and vertically, with Bradley occupying yet another position, but a heartbeat later all three Starfleet officers were standing beside one another in the garishly painted parlor Kirk had visited before. He briefly admired the smoothness of the site-to-site transport, which displayed the steady hand and skill of Lieutenant John Kyle, who had previously beamed Kirk down to the voting center while Mister Scott commanded the bridge. Nicely done, Kirk thought.
“Stay where you are! I mean it, don’t move a muscle!”
Kirk found himself facing the business end of a disruptor improbably gripped by an agitated Steve Tanaka, who stood between the new arrivals and the exposed computer station. A digital display on the large circular viewscreen counted down to VP-One’s demise… in less than thirteen minutes.
“You too, Ensigns,” Tanaka said. “Raise your hands above your heads, all of you. Don’t even think of reaching for your phasers. I can’t let you stop me!”
“Stop you?” Kirk put the pieces together even if the picture was still pretty blurry. He got the distinct impression that Tanaka was not, in fact, working to fix the problem at hand, but apparently was the problem. “What have you done, Steve?”
“Hands up!” Tanaka repeated.
Kirk slowly raised his hands and indicated that Chekov and Bradley should do the same. They outnumbered Tanaka three to one, but Kirk wanted facts more than he wanted a fracas, at least for now.
“What’s this about?” he asked.
“I had no choice!” Tanaka insisted, guilt all over his face. He looked and sounded more anxious than Kirk had ever seen him. He ran his free hand through his unkempt hair; one foot tapped nervously against the floor. “It wasn’t easy, but I managed to do it. I’m probably the only person who could, knowing Vok Populi the way I do…”
Kirk eyed the countdown with concern, but he kept his voice calm and made no sudden movement. “Do what, Steve?”
“Convince VP-One that it’s been compromised.” A pained smile lacked any semblance of mirth. “It’s funny, really. I don’t actually have to hack VP-One and take control of its programming; I just had to trick it into thinking that it’s been successfully breached. Its own automated self-destruct measures will take care of the rest. Goodbye, Vok Populi. No more election.”
Clever, Kirk thought. “But why, Steve. Who got to you… and how?”
Anguish contorted Tanaka’s features.
“It’s Myp,” he confessed. “They’re holding her hostage. They promised they’d release her, that she wouldn’t be harmed if I destroyed VP-One so Prup can’t possibly be elected…”
So that’s why I haven’t seen or heard from her for a while, Kirk realized. “Who? Who has her?”
“Some of her fellow peace officers, I think, who are still loyal to the old regime. We underestimated Gogg’s support among the Civic Security forces.” His voice caught in his throat, choking on a sob. “She trusted them, damn them! They were her comrades-in-arms. That’s the only way they could have caught her off guard!”
Kirk could believe it. Sometimes it wasn’t the Klingon in front of you that you needed to watch out for; it was the friend or companion you thought you could trust with your life. Like Gary Mitchell, or Ben Finney, or Janice Lester…
“It’s not too late, Steve. Halt the countdown. We’ll find a way to rescue Myp, I promise. You can rely on me, on my crew. We can get her back without sacrificing Vok’s first real election in a generation, everything you and Dare and Sergeant Myp have worked so hard for.”
Tanaka shook his head. “I can’t take that risk.”
The countdown on the viewscreen ticked down mercilessly. Only ten minutes remained before Vok Populi disintegrated. A certain irony was not lost on Kirk, who had been known to talk rogue computers and androids into self-destructing for the greater good. Now here he was, racing time to stop a one-of-a-kind supercomputer from destroying itself.
“And I can’t let you do that,” Kirk said. “You know that.”
Lowering his arms, he started toward Tanaka.
“Captain?” Bradley asked.
“Stay back!” Tanaka blurted. “I’m warning you!”
His eyes darted back and forth between Kirk and the other two officers as he kept the phaser aimed squarely at Kirk, who wondered why Tanaka hadn’t simply stunned his unwanted visitors by now. Did he doubt his ability to take down all three of them before Chekov or Bradley could draw their weapons? Not an unreasonable worry, Kirk deemed; it might be worth getting stunned if it distracted Tanaka long enough for the other officers to take action.
But perhaps that wouldn’t be necessary. If I can just get through to him before it’s too late.
“Think, Steve. Don’t let this go any further.”
He displayed open palms. He took another step forward.
“Stop! Don’t come any closer!” Steve said; it sounded more like a plea than a command. He backed away from Kirk, toward the computer station behind him, and hastily switched the setting on his pistol. “I’m not joking, Kirk! This phaser is set on kill.” He shot glances at Chekov and Bradley. “You hear me? Is this election worth your captain’s life?”
“That’s for me to decide,” Kirk said.
Knowing that Tanaka’s phaser was now set on kill gave Kirk pause, but he also saw an opportunity of sorts. Tanaka had just raised the stakes in a big way; perhaps, Kirk strategized, he could take advantage of that by going all in—and gambling on the fact that Tanaka was a Federation diplomat after all.
“You’re no killer, Steve. You believe in everything the UFP stands for, which is why I don’t believe you’ll fire the weapon.” Kirk slowly approached the armed man. “I’m calling your bluff because I’m certain that your conscience—and sense of duty—will prevail.”
His bold words and resolute expression conveyed more confidence than he felt. Tanaka was not a member of his crew, was not Starfleet. The young man had Dare’s confidence, but Kirk had only known him for a short time. Did he truly want to risk his life on the brief impression he’d formed of Tanaka’s character?
“Captain,” Chekov said, “are you sure this is wise?”
Not entirely, Kirk thought, but it wasn’t as though he had any choice. Time was running out—for Vok Populi and the planet’s fledgling democracy—and they were probably going to need Tanaka’s help to undo the damage he’d done, which meant making him part of the solution again.
“Give me that phaser, Steve.” Kirk held out his hand. “You and I both know you don’t want to do this. Myp would never want you to do this.”
Tanaka flinched at her name. Distraught, he again ran his free hand through his dark hair, mussing it further. Kirk feared he was on the verge of breaking down.
“It’s just an election,” Tanaka said. “It’s not worth Myp’s life. Don’t ask me to throw that away over politics.”
Kirk shared his concern for Myp’s safety, but he had to force Tanaka to face the truth and look past his rationalizations.
“Politics matter. This election matters. We’re not talking about an abstraction here; this election could have major consequences for this entire sector and beyond. You know that as well as anyone.”
He was only a few paces away from Tanaka, within reach of the phaser. It was tempting to make a grab for it. Tempting, but potentially fatal.
“Please don’t make me do this!” Tanaka begged. His other hand was tangled in his hair as though trying to get at his tormented brain. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone!”
Kirk paused, even as he remained acutely aware of the countdown to VP-One’s immolation. He felt torn between the urgency of the situation and the need to not make any sudden moves that might push Tanaka over the edge. He had to settle this while there was still time to save the crucial satellite.
“I know that, Steve,” he said gently, “which is how I know I’m not in any danger here. We’re on the same side.”
Tanaka’s face crumpled. The arm holding the phaser trembled. He shook like a lunar willow in the moonlight. His voice quavered.
“You’re right,” he said weakly. “I can’t do it. I can’t kill you just to keep her safe.”
I knew it, Kirk thought, relaxing slightly.
“But I can do this!”
Tanaka surprised Kirk by spinning around and blasting the computer station. Sparks erupted from the control panel, which glowed blue-hot before melting into slag. The viewscreen went blank, erasing the digital countdown at five minutes and counting. Smoke and steam billowed from the dissolving terminal.
“No!” Kirk lunged forward, tackling Tanaka from behind. He seized the other man’s arm, twisting his wrist until Tanaka let go of the phaser, which fell to the floor. The destructive beam vanished as soon as Tanaka released the trigger, but the deed was done. The advanced computer station was a smoldering ruin, visibly beyond all repair. Kirk stared at the wreckage in dismay. “You didn’t need to do that!”
“Agree to disagree.” Tanaka put up no resistance. “It’s done. You can’t stop it now.”
Kirk let go of Tanaka, turning him over to Chekov and Bradley, who came forward to take him into custody. The smell of burning plastiform and circuitry permeated the previously pristine atmosphere of the chamber. The discarded phaser rested on the floor, its destructive work completed. Kirk almost wished that Tanaka had shot him instead. His mind raced to find another path to saving Vok Populi.
“But… there must be other terminals, other interfaces, other ways to contact VP-One.”
“Naturally,” Tanaka said, calmer now that he no longer had Kirk at gunpoint. “But you’ve almost run out of time, Kirk. Honestly, I’m not certain I could halt the self-destruct sequence now even if I had access to Vok Populi… or wanted to.”
The viewscreen was dead, but Kirk estimated that they only had four minutes left before the photon charges went off, disintegrating the satellite. He looked again at the cooling ruins of the computer station. Clearly, there was nothing more that could be done from this location. Not even Spock could turn the wreckage back into a working control panel in time.
He flipped open his communicator.
“Kirk to Enterprise. Four to beam up, pronto.”
He wasn’t sure what could be done from the ship, but that’s where his resources were. Scotty and Uhura had both studied Vok Populi at his orders; he could use their input and expertise, even though the problem with VP-One wasn’t actually an engineering or communication issue. This was an advanced programming challenge, better suited to Spock—and Spock was at least a solar system away.
“Give it up, Kirk,” Tanaka said. “What’s done is done.”
“We’ll see about that, mister.”
The transporter beam captured them, beaming them back aboard Enterprise. An express turbolift and a brisk march brought them to the bridge. Chekov and Bradley escorted Tanaka, on the off chance that he might still prove useful in averting VP-One’s imminent destruction. Mister Scott surrendered the captain’s chair, relocating to his accustomed place at the engineering station, as Kirk moved quickly to direct operations from the bridge. Glancing around, he couldn’t help lamenting the absence of both Sulu and Spock. Yeoman Zahra operated the helm in Sulu’s stead.
“Time to self-destruct?” Kirk demanded.
“Three minutes,” Scott reported. His doleful expression offered little hope that they could pull a rabbit out of a hat this time. “Those charges are building past the point of no return, Captain.”
Damn, Kirk thought. He fought an urge to pound his fist on the armrest of his chair. “On-screen.”
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Jana Haines said from the science station, where she was filling in for Spock. The relief science officer usually worked the gamma shift, but these were special circumstances. She operated the sensor controls and Vok Populi appeared on the viewscreen. The shining metallic satellite looked deceptively in order, but Kirk knew that the photon charges embedded in its construction were only two minutes away from disintegrating Vok Populi. A digital display, superimposed on the image, let Kirk know exactly how much time they didn’t have.
The turbolift door whooshed open behind Kirk. He turned to see Imogen Dare step onto the bridge, wearing a belted blue robe over her hospital gown. Her face was drawn and somewhat pale, although how much of that was from her injury and how much of that was from the imminent destruction of Vok’s foolproof voting computer was anyone’s guess. Her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the doomed satellite.
“Commissioner?” Kirk said. “Should you be up and about?”
She turned a grim face toward him. “Should I be anywhere else at this moment?”
Kirk understood. Her entire mission to Vok was in mortal jeopardy. He wouldn’t be able to sit tight in sickbay either, not under these circumstances.
“I suppose not,” he said. “Please take a seat.”
She found an empty chair at the auxiliary environmental controls station, but not before making eye contact with her disgraced aide. A range of emotions, from disgust to pity, cascaded across her face. Clearly, word of Tanaka’s sabotage had already reached her.
“How could you do it, Steve?” she asked. “You have no idea how disappointed I am.”
He wilted before her gaze. “I’m sorry to let you down.”
“We’ll talk later,” she said sternly. “Be sure of that.”
In the meantime, Kirk turned to Uhura. “Can you hail the computer?”
“I’m trying, sir, but it’s treating me as a potential infection, blocking me at every turn. I’m using all the right passwords and secure channels, but it’s shutting down, cutting itself off from any attempt to countermand its programming.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I’m sorry, Captain. I don’t know what else to do.”
“No need to apologize, Lieutenant.”
Kirk knew Uhura had given it her all. His heart sank as the countdown reached its inexorable conclusion with only seconds to go. He suddenly realized they weren’t going to win this one.
Three, two, one…
On-screen, the photon charges ignited, flaring brightly at strategic placements deep within the satellite. The individual bursts swiftly merged into a single blinding fireball that tested the viewscreen’s protective filters. Blinking, Kirk raised his arm to shield his eyes from the glare, which faded almost as fast as it appeared. Tiny blue dots danced in his vision as his watery eyes recovered from the flash. His gaze stayed fixed on the screen, where nothing remained of the satellite except a wisp of energized ions that was already dispersing across the vacuum of space. Kirk watched bleakly as even those final sparks dimmed and died.
He had failed.
Vok Populi was dead.
The taste of defeat was both bitter and unfamiliar. He shared a distraught look with Dare, who appeared equally stricken. There would be no fair election to observe now, with no supercomputer to tabulate the votes of an entire planet.
“Off-screen,” he ordered, rather more sharply than he’d intended.
“Aye, sir.”
Haines switched off the sensors formerly focused on VP-One. The empty space that appeared on the screen was not significantly different in appearance from the now-empty space it replaced and offered little solace to Kirk. He gazed furiously at Tanaka, who was being watched like a hawk by both Chekov and Bradley. Kirk was unable to resist lashing out at the compromised diplomat.
