Margeret Bonanno - Probe

Kirk put a hand on Handler's shoulder, squeezing gently. "So am I, Mr. Handler. So are we all."

The 'lift opened on the bridge. The unnamed planet, the shadow of its ring darkening a good quarter of it, still

filled the viewscreen. Commander Scott stood up and moved from the conn.

"Good to have ye back, sir. Mr. Spock tells us ye had an interesting time doon there."

"That's one way of putting it, Mr. Scott. Though I would've thought it rated at least a `fascinating."' Kirk came to a stop next to the conn and punched up sickbay. "Status of Dr. McCoy," he said briskly.

"As good as can be expected, Captain," came the voice of Commander Chapel, "when you have to physically restrain a patient to get any readings."

"I'll take that as an `okay,"' Kirk said. "Any change in Commander Riley?"

"None, Captain. Although you might want to ask Dajan. He went in to see Riley when he and Dr. Benar delivered the doctor, and he's still there."

"Not right now, thank you, Commander."

He turned to Spock, who, though watching the readouts closely, was doing nothing else. Jandra stood to one side, not looking at the readouts but simply waiting, listening.

"So, Mr. Spock, were you right?"

"Undetermined, Captain. I have submitted my hypothesis to the computer. We can only await results."

"How long?"

"Also undetermined, Captain."

"You're a great help today, Spock. While we wait, can you at least tell us what your hypothesis is? And how, logically, you got it from anything Dr. Benar or I said?"

"Of course, Captain. The two of you indicated that the images were, in effect, sonic holograms, detectable by her own sonic probe and in all likelihood, by the sonar of the dolphinlike creatures whose images were being dis-

played to us. That, in addition to the sounds themselves, prompted me to review what I had learned during my study of cetaceans prior to my attempt to meld with George, and that review proved fruitful."

"You reviewed what you'd learned?" Kirk marveled. "In the middle of all that was going on down there?"

"Of course, Captain, as, I suspect, did you. My conclusion was no more remarkable than your own logical analysis of the relationship between sonic holograms and dolphins."

"That wasn't an analysis, Spock, just a realization, a hunch."

"I suspect the difference, Captain, is more in the semantics than in the reality."

Kirk sighed. "Have it your way, Spock. But you were about to say. .?"

"I was about to say, Captain, that the literature contained many descriptions of the ability of earth dolphins to use the `clicks' of their sonar to `look' at an object while simultaneously using `whistling' sounds to communicate with other dolphins. This would be, a number of the descriptions said, the equivalent in a human of speaking in two different pitches and carrying on two conversations simultaneously."

"So you're saying what, Spock?" Kirk asked when the Vulcan paused. "That the Probe is saying two things at once? At different frequencies?"

"If my hypothesis is correct, Captain, it could be saying many things at once, at many different frequencies. Or possibly it is saying the same thing in many different ways at many different frequencies. At this point, it is impossible to know."

Kirk nodded, suddenly beginning to understand.

"Each of. those patterns-how many did you find? Twenty? Thirty? Each of those patterns could be a different language? All saying the same thing?"

"That is one possibility, Captain, as is the possibility that each is saying something different. I have instructed the computer to isolate each band of frequencies that contains a pattern and to treat each as a possibly separate language."

Kirk glanced at the readouts. "And it's still thinking about it?"

"Apparently, Captain."

"If there's any way you can hurry it along, before-"

"Captain!" It was Sulu, at the helm. "The Galtizh is engaging impulse power."

Kirk spun toward the viewscreen. "Stay with it, Mr. Sulu. Where is it headed?"

"Higher orbit, Captain. It may be returning to the orbit of the Probe."

"Commander Uhura-"

"Hailing the Galtizh, Captain. No response."

"Keep after them, Commander."

"It's definitely heading for the Probe's orbit, Captain," Sulu reported. On the viewscreen, the frozen planet had disappeared, replaced by the fragments of the ring along one side while in the center was a minuscule Galtizh. And beyond, still small in the distance but rapidly growing larger, was the lightless mass of the Probe.

One paradox had been resolved, only to be replaced by another.

The entity, once it had partially loosened its grip on the mites in the Chamber of the Crystal Wisdom, had continued to observe them as they were engulfed in

images of the first Winnowing, just as countless thousands of the creators themselves had been engulfed throughout the millennia before the Second Winnowing.

But then, before the Triumph, before the recreated images of those who became the creators' ancestors had used their nascent power of Speech to clear the mass of ash from small breathing areas, the eight had vanished, snatched directly from its grip.

And they had reappeared in one of the spacegoing bubbles.

They were the same, the entity saw now. One moment, they had been in the Chamber. The next moment, they were outside the Chamber, thousands of kilometers in space.

Like the primitives on the blue world, they could appear and disappear.

The chances that these mites were responsible for the appearance-and previous disappearance-of those primitives were increasing.

As were the chances that they were somehow connected to the mites that had driven the creators from the homeworld hundreds of millennia ago.

But the entity would do nothing now.

It would wait. It would observe.

And if they proved to be the same, if they proved to make use of the same killing rays, their mimicking of the True Language would not save them.

TWENTY-THREE

Tiam knew something was wrong the moment the Galtizh transporter room formed around him and he saw that Jenyu, not Kital, was waiting for him. Dressed now in a somber but bemedaled commander's uniform, Jenyu had jettisoned all traces of Subcenturion Kital. Subcommander Feric stood uneasily to one side, flanked by two officers Tiam did not know.

"What was the substance of your clandestine exchange with the Federation captain, Ambassador?" Jenyu asked almost before the transporter energies had released him.

"It was not clandestine!"

"Then why did you send the subcommanders on to the Galtizh before speaking with him? Do not waste my time, Tiam. What was said?"

Tiam swallowed nervously. "I was told that you had

withdrawn all our people from the Vulcan's group. And I–I told him they would be returning. He agreed."

"They will not return. Nor will you."

"But the Vulcan-they say he has discovered a key to the object's emissions! If true, it could mean we will soon be able to achieve the late Praetor's objective-but only if you allow me to return to the Enterprise!"

Jenyu had started to turn away, but he turned back at Tiam's final words. "How so?"

"The false patterns our people `found' for them! With those added to the true patterns they must work with, there is little chance their key will do them any good! On the other hand, if I am allowed to work with them and discover what their key is, I will be able to return here and-"

"Can you guarantee they will fail? And that you will subsequently succeed?"

"Perhaps not guarantee, Commander, but the odds-"

"The odds against virtually everything that has happened since I came aboard this ship are incalculable, yet it has all happened! Can you give me a guarantee?"

"Of course not, but-"