ACT 4

                            
                            
                          

In another dimension . . .


DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "Now you've gone too far."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 2:     "It  was  an effective  diversion.
                         Admiral   Nelson  was   too close
                         to   discovering  the truth.    I
                         warned  you about that."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "Killing Crane was not part of the
                         design!   Our   switchboards   are  
                         jammed   with   distraught   fans.
                         Oddly  enough, most  of  them seem 
                         to be grown  women--demanding   to  
                         know   how  we   dared  kill their 
                         'baby'.   I never  knew  we   were
                         doing  so well in that demographic
                         --this   was   supposed    to be a 
                         kiddies'   show.  And what's more,
                         you've used  up  a  whole season's 
                         allocation of blood!"

DISEMBODIED VOICE 2:      "You can always borrow a   bottle
                          of   ketchup  from   the  hot-dog
                          stand.    I wonder  .  .  .    if 
                          killing  off  a    main character
                          is that effective,    perhaps   I 
                          should try it   sometime.  Spock, 
                          maybe  . . . or even Kirk."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "You wouldn't dare!"

DISEMBODIED VOICE 2:     "Watch me.  But not today, I think.
                         One at a time is enough."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 3:     "Ahem!  Gentlemen, if I may . . ."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "What now?"

DISEMBODIED VOICE 3:     "Can  I join in now?  Can I?   Can
                         I?"

DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "Yes.  It is time."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 2:     "But  remember, you must not  tell
                         them the truth."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "That should not be a problem  for
                         you."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 3:     "Your insinuation wounds me,  sir.
                         Yes, it wounds me deeply."

DISEMBODIED VOICE 2:     "But you can do it?"

DISEMBODIED VOICE 3:     "Leave  it to me, gentlemen.   And
                         now,  can  we  get on   with this?
                         We're wasting time!"

DISEMBODIED VOICE 1:     "Go then."



Aboard Seaview, a balding, late-middle-aged little man in  a
green  velvet  waistcoat  and a  tweed  jacket  twangs  into
existence  just  as Time lurches forward  again.   He  finds
himself  standing on the bottom step of the  spiral  stairs,
only  yards from where Nelson still bends over Crane's body.
When  no-one  seems  to notice him, the  little  man  coughs
impatiently.


NELSON    (slowly  looking  up, still in shock):   "Pem!   I
          thought you might have something to do with this!"

MR. PEM   (smirking):   "Of  course,  Admiral.    I'm   only
          disappointed that it took you so long to guess."

NELSON:   "The  last time I saw you, Mr. Pem, you were  very
          dead  indeed.   You can hardly blame  me  for  not
          thinking    of   you   immediately,   under    the
          circumstances."

MR. PEM:  "Oh,  come  now, Admiral.  You really don't  think
          clearly under stress, do you?  If I had died then,
          two  hundred years ago, how could I have  come  to
          you  in your office that morning?"  (He steps down
          onto  the Control Room deck and bends over Crane's
          body.)   "Still, I'm not surprised  you're  upset.
          Such a shame about the Captain, isn't it?"

NELSON:   "Well, Mr. Pem?  Have you come to help, or are you
          part  of  the  problem?  Or did you just  come  to
          gloat?"

MR. PEM:  "Admiral,  I assure you I have no wish to  gloat."
          (He pulls out a silk handkerchief and wipes away a
          hypocritical   tear.)   "True,   we've   had   our
          differences  in  the  past, but  I'm  prepared  to
          forgive and forget."

NELSON    (getting to his feet):  "You are?  And what do you
          want  this  time?  I'm afraid Seaview's  not  much
          good  to  anyone right now--and anyway, she's  not
          for sale."

MR. PEM:  "Not   even  for  the  Captain's  life--your  best
          friend's life?"

NELSON:   "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

MR. PEM:  "So  you're tempted, Admiral.  You might consider?
          You'll at least think about it?"

SPOCK:    "Admiral,  I  would advise extreme caution.   This
          individual   seems   to  be   of   a   dangerously
          duplicitous nature."

NELSON:   "I  know that.  I also know that we're running out
          of options."

MR. PEM:  "How  right you are, Admiral!  You really  haven't
          much choice at this point, other than to trust me.
          And  I'm not asking much.  I don't really  need  a
          submarine--especially  one  as  accident-prone  as
          yours  seems to be.  All I want is access to  your
          reactor now and again--this one, or that test  rig
          you've  got  back at the Institute.  I  can't  say
          fairer than that, now can I?"

NELSON:   "It  sounds a modest enough request, I agree.  But
          how  do  I know you'll stick to your side  of  the
          bargain?"

MR. PEM:  "You  don't.   But  I suggest you decide  quickly,
          Admiral.  In another couple of minutes, it will be
          too late."

NELSON:   "How  can anything be too late for a man with your
          power over time?"

MR. PEM:  "I presume you want me to reverse time so that the
          Captain will not have died?"

NELSON:   "I  want  that . . . more than you could  possibly
          imagine.   But I'm still not sure that it's  worth
          the risk of co-operating with you again."

MR. PEM:  "But  you  see, Admiral, there are  limits.   Your
          reactor is drained, useless; I have only the power
          stored  in  the timepiece itself. And  that  isn't
          enough to reverse more than a few minutes of time,
          even  locally.  If you want me to act, I  have  to
          act  quickly.   And then you'll take  me  to  your
          reactor, and see what you can do to repair it."

KIRK:     "Sounds fair enough to me, Admiral."

NELSON:   "Spock?"

SPOCK:    "Logic  would  seem to suggest  that  you  comply,
          Admiral, but the decision is yours to make."

NELSON:   "All right, Pem.  We'll do it your way--for now."

MR. PEM:  "Thank  you,  Admiral.  I assure  you,  you  won't
          regret this.  The timepiece, if you please."


Careful  not  to  touch the button, Nelson  hands  over  the
pocket-watch.  Smirking, Mr. Pem makes a couple of  delicate
adjustments to the winding-knob, and then presses the button
with  a flourish.  Quickly at first, then slowing, Time runs
backward, as if someone had threaded the film backwards into
a  projector.  The bloodstain on Crane's shirt shrinks to  a
speck  and disappears; he falls to his feet, and the  bullet
flies  from the vanishing wound back into the muzzle of  the
gun, disappearing with a flash.  What happens to Kirk's half-
eaten  doughnut  is too revolting to describe.   Spock  puts
down  the  gun, which has mysteriously changed back  into  a
phaser; Crane's own gun goes back into the locker.  At  that
point,  Time slows to a standstill, then resumes its  normal
flow.


NELSON    (following Crane into the corner):  "You've had  a
          rough few hours, Lee. We all have, but you seem to
          have  got the worst of it.  Perhaps you should  go
          back to your cabin for a while, huh?"

CRANE     (still  facing into the corner, as  he  opens  the
          arms  locker.   His  voice is eerily  calm):   "It
          won't do you any good, Admiral."

SPOCK     (getting  to his feet, and going over  to  Crane):
          "Allow me, Captain."


He raises one hand, and lays it on Crane's cheek so that the
fingers, spread in a mystic Vulcan V-sign, frame one eye.


SPOCK:    "My  mind to your mind . . . My thoughts  to  your
          thoughts."


His  own  eyes  widen  at  what he finds,  and  he  staggers
slightly.  Kirk drops the doughnut and comes over to  steady
him.  Nelson watches, hardly daring to breathe.


SPOCK:    "Kill . . . No, Nelson must be one of us . . . NO!
          My  friend . . . I can't . . . Must!  We need  the
          submarine first . . . No, kill him . . . NO!!"


Crane  shudders suddenly, and goes limp; Nelson catches  him
before  he  can  fall,  and eases him down  into  a  sitting
position against the wall.  Spock backs away, dazed, letting
Kirk guide him to a seat.


MR. PEM   (clapping   his   hands  in   glee):    "Splendid,
          splendid.  Bravo, my Vulcan friend!"

KIRK:     "What was all that about?"

SPOCK     (pulling  himself together with a visible effort):
          "Extraordinary!  I detected two distinct  sets  of
          conditioning  and  at least three  separate  alien
          entities,  not counting that mummified thing  that
          used  to  be human, all vying for control  of  one
          very  remarkably normal human mind.  It is  hardly
          surprising  that the Captain was on the  brink  of
          insanity."

NELSON:   "But he's all right now?"

SPOCK:    "I  believe so, Admiral.  I was able to banish the
          influences, at least for a while.  However,  there
          are  no guarantees. You might consider having  him
          put  under  heavy  sedation, at  least  until  the
          immediate danger has past."

KIRK:     "That  would  keep  Bones and the  Doc  happy,  at
          least."

NELSON:   "I  hope it won't be necessary.  Anyway, Lee makes
          a good lightning rod.  I don't know why it is, but
          ever since our second season, any alien entity  in
          the  neighbourhood seems to make a beeline for his
          mind,  and leave the rest of us alone."  (He gives
          Crane's shoulder a gentle shake.)  "Come on,  Lee.
          Wake up.  We've still got work to do."

CRANE     (opening  his eyes):  "What happened?  Don't  tell
          me I passed out again!"

NELSON:   "It's  a little more complicated than that.   I'll
          explain later.  How do you feel now?"

CRANE:    "I'm  all right, I think.  I just . . . can't seem
          to  remember very much of what happened  since  we
          got  to the Control Room."  (He gets to his  feet,
          and catches sight of Mr. Pem.)  "Oh no.  What's he
          doing here?"

MR. PEM   (with  a  little  bow  and  a  smirk):   "And  I'm
          delighted to see you too, Captain.  I'm  afraid  I
          can't  say  you're looking well, but  you  are  at
          least in much better condition than you would have
          been if I had not been here."

KIRK:     "Wait  a  minute.  If everything that happened  in
          those five minutes just un-happened, how come this
          guy's still here?"

NELSON:   "Don't try to think about it too hard, Jim.   Just
          accept it."

CRANE:    "I  haven't a clue what you're all talking  about.
          But it doesn't matter--we've got a ship to save!"

MR. PEM:  "All  in  good time, Captain.  First, the  Admiral
          and I have some business to conduct in the Reactor
          Room.  Isn't  that right, Admiral?   Or  have  you
          conveniently forgotten your promise again?"

NELSON:   "Of course not!  But we do have more urgent things
          to worry about right now."

MR. PEM   (brandishing  the timepiece):  "You wouldn't  want
          to disappoint me, Admiral, would you?"

NELSON:   "Oh, very well.  Come along, then."

CRANE:    "I'm coming too!  You're going to need some backup
          down  there.  Chip, you can hold the fort up here,
          can't you?"

MORTON    (completely  bewildered by everything that's  been
          going  on):   "Of  course,  Skipper."   (A  moment
          later,  under his breath, he adds):  "That's  what
          I'm  best at--minding the store while you and  the
          Admiral are off getting into trouble."



Nelson,  Crane,  Kirk and Spock head for the  Reactor  Room,
with  Mr. Pem trotting along in their wake.  Before  they've
gone ten feet, Admiral Nelson begins to sneeze.  Repeatedly.
He  takes  out his handkerchief and blows his  nose.   Soon,
Crane and Kirk are ah-chooing, too.  Both Spock and Pem, for
some reason, seem unaffected.  The Seaview's Captain glances
down  at  his feet.  He lets his watery eyes wander to  both
ends  of  the  corridor.  There is dust  EVERYWHERE.   Crane
stops.


CRANE:    "Admiral!"


The others turn.


NELSON:   "What is it, Lee?"

CRANE:    "What  the  devil  goes on around  here  when  I'm
          unconscious?"

NELSON    (utterly confused):  "What?"

CRANE:    "This  place is a sty!  Doesn't any-body  on  this
          tub except me give a hoot about Naval discipline?"

NELSON    (looking  extremely annoyed):  "Lee, this  is  not
          the time to worry about--"

CRANE:    "Admiral, they taught us at Annapolis that a clean
          ship  is a happy ship.  It's my patriotic duty  to
          make  sure this deck gets swabbed.  You all go  on
          ahead.   I'll  catch  up with  you."   (Mad  as  a
          hornet,  he  picks up the intercom to  his  left):
          "Chief!  This is the Captain!"

SHARKEY   (on intercom):  "Sharkey here, sir."

CRANE:    "Chief, I want men with mops in Corridor A, on the
          double!  As a matter of fact, I want men with mops
          walking this boat from stem to stern.  Before this
          day  is over, Seaview's gonna sparkle!  Or my name
          isn't Lee B. Crane!"

NELSON    (leaning  toward the Vulcan):  "See what  I  mean,
          Mr. Spock?  Grim!"


The Admiral and the others hurry down the corridor.


KIRK      (noticing  an  unusual amount of  dirt,  dust  and
          debris  down  a  side corridor, he  stops  in  his
          tracks):  "Admiral.  Spock."

NELSON    (losing all patience):  "What is it now!"

KIRK:     "Something's wrong.  Where's all this dust  coming
          from?"

NELSON    (taking  a peek down yonder hall):  "Hmmmm.   That
          leads  to the Missile Room.  You'd better get  Lee
          and check it out.  Report as soon as you can."

KIRK:     "Aye-aye, Admiral."


Kirk  walks stiffly back to Crane.  That sweater is  cutting
off his circulation.  Black never was his color anyway.


A few minutes later . . .


CRANE     (over  intercom):  "Admiral?  Can you get down  to
          the Missile Room ASAP?"

NELSON    (picking  up hand mike outside the Reactor  Room):
          "What's the trouble, Lee?"

CRANE:    "In  the first place, the guard won't let  me  in!
          In the second place, something horrible's going on
          in  there, we can hear it.  We're also up  to  our
          knees  in  dust  bunnies now.   And  it's  getting
          worse!"

NELSON:   "We're  on our way."  (Reclicking the mike in  his
          hand):   "Mr.  Morton, issue tissues and  Benadryl
          for all hands.  And crack the Main Hatch!  We need
          air in here!"



Down by the Missile Room . . .


Despite  serious  threats of demotion, the handing  over  of
five Andrew Jacksons from Crane's wallet, and quite a bit of
begging  unbecoming  an officer, the armed  guard  stationed
outside  the Missile Room still refuses to allow his Skipper
entry.   With nothing to do but wait for Nelson  and  Spock,
Crane and Kirk sit on the deck and gab.


KIRK:     "Say, Lee, what's the 'B' in your name stand for?"

CRANE:    "I don't know.  I've checked with all the writers.
          I've even read the novel, but I still can't get  a
          straight answer."

KIRK:     "Try the fans.  They know everything."

CRANE:    "Maybe your fans do.  Our fans've had to keep  the
          dream  alive all by themselves, for 30 years  now!
          They've  had no Voyage re-runs ad nauseam to  keep
          them  placated.   There've  been  no  best-selling
          paperbacks for them to read in bed.  No big-screen
          movies  to numb their minds.  Not even a  spin-off
          or  two  to tide them over!  If the Sci-Fi Channel
          hadn't put us back on the air when it did  .  .  .
          Well  .  .  .   I just don't know how much  longer
          those poor devils could've hung on.  At least  now
          they can tape us and get on with their lives."

KIRK:     "It's always the fans who get hurt the most, isn't
          it?"

CRANE:    "Yeah."

KIRK:     "So how's your spleen?"

CRANE     (poking  his  side):  "Pretty  good.   How's  your
          hand?  You hit the Lobster Man awfully hard."

KIRK      (flexing  his  right  hand painfully):   "I  don't
          think  I'll be writing any checks for a few weeks,
          if that's what you mean."

CRANE:    "Speaking  of checks, I hate to mention  it  at  a
          time like this, but, uh . . . where's my check?"

KIRK:     "What check?"

CRANE:    "The  one  you still owe me for guest-starring  in
          your T.J. Hooker pilot."

KIRK:     "Oh  .  .  . uh . . . it's in the mail,  Pal,  for
          sure!"


Crane  rolls his eyes.  Fortunately for Kirk, Spock and  the
Admiral arrive--with Pem in tow.  One look at Nelson's angry
countenance sends the young guard fleeing for his life  down
the corridor.


CRANE:    "Admiral, how'd you do that!"

NELSON    (opening  the hatch):  "Just a little technique  I
          developed  playing Hitler back in  '62.   Love  to
          teach it to you some time."


The four officers are unprepared for what awaits them in the
Missile  Room:   In  the center of the room,  a  dust  ball,
gigantic  in size, whirls itself about in a cyclonic  fury--
not unlike the Tasmanian devil.


NELSON    (staring upward):  "Great Caesar's Ghost!"

KIRK:     "You said it, Chief!"

CRANE:    "Admiral, what are we gonna do?"

NELSON:   "I  don't know, Lee.  But if we don't do something
          soon, every man aboard will suffocate; and Seaview
          will be destroyed."

CRANE:    "But how do you fight a thing like that?"

SPOCK:    "Might  I  recommend a commercial vacuum  cleaner?
          The kind used in better hotels."

NELSON:   "You're right, Mr. Spock.  That's our only .  .  .
          Oh this is ridiculous!"  (Looking around the set):
          "Who  came  up with this asinine idea?  (Shielding
          his  eyes  from the klieg lights):  "Where's  Paul
          Zastupnevich?   Paul?  Are you  over  there?   I'm
          putting my foot down.  I positively REFUSE  to  go
          on  with this any longer.  I know the monsters are
          for the kiddies, but this is going too far.  I'm a
          serious  actor!   I've  done Shakespeare!   Ibsen!
          Shaw!  Chekhov!"

SHATNER:  "Don't forget Columbo."

BASEHART  (turning to his co-star):  "Dave?  You back me  up
          on  this,  don't you?  Let's go to  our  dressing-
          rooms and sulk."

CRANE     (concerned):  "Admiral, I think maybe you need  to
          go for that ride in the diving-bell after all."

BASEHART: "Oh, for cryin' out loud, Dave, cut it out!"

CRANE:    "Admiral, please--"

BASEHART: "Will you stop calling me 'Admiral'!"

CRANE:    "Okay . . . Sure . . . Harry."

BASEHART  (really  annoyed):  'It's Richard!  And  you  know
          it!"

CRANE:    "All  right  . . . Richard."  (Walking toward  his
          friend):   "Now let's strap you into  the  diving-
          bell.   You'll feel a whole lot better  after  you
          get some nitrogen bubbles in your blood."

BASEHART: "Get your hands off me, Hedison!  I'm not going in
          any diving-bell.  You know I have claustrophobia."
          (Breaking  away from Captain Crane):  "I  think  I
          know  who's  responsible for  all  this  nonsense.
          Only  one  man  in the world ever  had  this  much
          chutzpah  and  sheer  bad taste.   Show  yourself,
          Irwin!"


Two men in civilian suits suddenly shimmer into existence.


SHATNER:       "Gene!  What are you doing here?"

RODDENBERRY:   "Hi,  fellas.  Irwin talked me into it.  He's
               been  bragging for the longest time that  his
               ship  and  crew were better than my ship  and
               crew.   I said, No Way!   So we made a little
               wager,   set   up  the  parameters   for   an
               experiment, and here we are.  I told  him  he
               was  going  too  far with that Dust  Monster,
               though."

ALLEN:         "Aw, whada you know, Roddenberry!"

RODDENBERRY    (turning   to  Allen):   "I  also  told   you
               Nelson'd figure it out."

ALLEN          (turning to Basehart):  "Yeah!  Thanks a lot,
               Dick.   Now  you've ruined the  rest  of  the
               episode.   And  I  had all this  great  stock
               footage ready to roll for the finale, too."

RODDENBERRY:   "Irwin, you're such a cheap-skate!"

ALLEN:         "Oh yeah?  Whataya call 'The Menagerie', huh?
               Both  parts  were  nothing but  stock-footage
               from  'The Cage'.  So quit callin' the kettle
               black!  Anyway, you're just jealous because I
               always  get big names for my projects.   Lest
               we forget, I got Ronald Colman to star in The
               Story  of  Mankind!!!  And I  was  still  wet
               behind the ears in those days."

RODDENBERRY:   "Whadya do, use stock footage from his silent
               pictures?"

ALLEN:         "Funny,  Roddenberry, funny.   Ever  hear  of
               Fred  Astaire,  Paul Newman,  Steve  McQueen,
               William  Holden,  or the great  Red  Buttons?
               They  were  all  in  my movies.   For  scale!
               Who'd    you   ever   get   besides   Ricardo
               Montalban?"

RODDENBERRY    (defensively):  "We've had our share of super-
               stars."

ALLEN:         "Name one!"

RODDENBERY:    "One?  I'll name three!  There was uh .  .  .
               um  .  .  .  Oh yeah!  Lucie Arnaz's husband.
               And . . . uh . . . what's-her-name's son, the
               kid from 'Charlie X'.  Oh!  And how 'bout Ron
               Howard's brother?  He's no slouch, either."


The  tornado  of dust seems to grow larger and more  intense
with   every  cross  word  uttered  by  the  two   executive
producers.  Even Mr. Clean would run from this mess!


SPOCK:         "Gentlemen,   I   suggest   you   put    your
               differences aside for the moment.  We are all
               in grave danger."


Spock's  voice  can hardly be heard over  the  howling  Dust
Monster.   And  as  it swirls about the Missile  Room  in  a
counter-clockwise  direction,  it  begins   to   throw   off
disgusting  debris.  Among other things:  sand,  grit,  some
gray  fuzz,  blonde, black, red and brown hair, dryer  lint,
cobwebs,  and what appears to be cat fur.  Not only  is  the
offending  material clogging nasal passages, it is beginning
to  effect  key  instruments as well.  The submarine  is  in
danger  of slipping below the surface, and heading  for  the
bottom  of the Pacific Ocean in a fatal nose dive.  Clearly,
the experiment is out of the experimenters' control.


RODDENBERRY:   "Look.  There's only one thing we can do
               now."

ALLEN          (disappointed):  "I know.  I know.  Pem?  Hit
               your clock, Babe."


Mr.  Pem follows his orders and makes Time stop once  again.
But  as  he  checks  the instrument, he sees  it  is  nearly
drained of power.


MR. PEM:       "Gentlemen, I'm afraid there's a little
               problem."

RODDENBERRY:   "What is it?"

MR. PEM:       "There's not enough energy contained in my
               watch to reverse Time more than one-hundred
               twenty seconds."

RODDENBERRY    (slapping his hips):  "Great!  Just great!"

ALLEN:         "Chill, Gene.  I have a plan."

RODDENBERRY:   "If it involves Jill St. John or Barbara Eden
               in high heels, count me out."

ALLEN:         "Don't be ridiculous.  All we have to  do  is
               get  rid  of the twister, some of  the  other
               monsters, and exit stage-left ourselves.  The
               boys'll  be able to handle the rest.   You'll
               see.   And  they'll never know we were  here.
               They'll  probably  blame  everything  on  Mr.
               Pem."

RODDENBERRY:   "I   dunno.   Basehart  and  Shatner  weren't
               exactly 'in character' just now."

ALLEN:         "Don't  worry.   Two minutes  ago  they  were
               playin' their parts just fine."

RODDENBERRY    (thinking it over):  "Okay.  I guess we  have
               no   choice.   Which  monsters  do  we   send
               packing?"

ALLEN:         "Well  .  . ."  (Consulting the cast-list  on
               his  clipboard):  "Let's see . . .  Krueger's
               gone.   Good  thing,  too.   His  accent  was
               wreaking  havoc with the spell checker.   The
               Abominable's not doing too much  damage,  why
               don't we keep him?"

RODDENBERRY:   "Get  rid  of  'im, Irwin.   And  that  dopey
               Lobster  Man/Manfish duo, too.  I don't  need
               Shatner  pulling any more stunts.   He  never
               knows   when  to  quit.   You'd  think   he'd
               remember  his  own line from  Sole  Survivor:
               'There's  nothing heroic about  getting  your
               teeth knocked in.'"

ALLEN:         "I  remember that movie.  Saw it on the  Late
               Late Late Show one time.  Dick starred in  it
               though, didn't he?"

RODDENBERRY:   "Yeah.   But if I were you, I wouldn't  bring
               it  up.  Shatner's a little touchy about  who
               gets  billed  over who.  Anyway,  where  were
               we?"

ALLEN:         "Um  .  . ."  (Checking over his list again):
               "What about the Mummy?"

RODDENBERRY:   "He  can  stay.  But get rid of that blob  in
               the Lab."

ALLEN:         "How 'bout the tribbles?"

RODDENBERRY:   "Ah, leave 'em.  They're so cute."

ALLEN:         "That  about  does it then."  (Shouting  into
               the  air):   "Attention  please!   Attention!
               Can  I have the following stunt men front and
               center . . . Lobster Man . . . Manfish . .  .
               and the Abominable Snowguy . . ."


While  a  maintenance team vacuums up the Dust Monster,  the
humanoid  creatures re-called by Irwin Allen begin grumbling
about  paychecks and union rules.  Eventually, they  shuffle
out  of  the Missile Room in single file, pulling off  their
rubber  headpieces  as  they go, and dragging  the  deflated
Thing from the Lab behind them.


ALLEN          (checking the Set):  "Okay.  We're  ready  to
               roll again.  Mr. Pem, whenever you're ready."


Pem  makes  an adjustment on his ancient pocket watch,  then
presses  the red button on top.  One-hundred twenty  seconds
worth  of  Time  runs  backwards at  an  accelerated  speed.
Nelson,  Crane, Kirk, Spock and Pem are once  again  outside
the Missile Room . . .


One look at Nelson's angry countenance sends the young guard
fleeing for his life down the corridor.


CRANE:    "Admiral, how'd you do that!"

NELSON    (opening  the hatch):  "Just a little technique  I
          developed  playing Hitler back in  '62.   Love  to
          teach it to you some time."


The four officers are unprepared for what awaits them in the
Missile  Room:   Absolutely nothing.  Except for  some  non-
essential personnel checking diving equipment, the  room  is
clear.  And completely dust free!


NELSON    (angry):  "Lee, you called us down here for this?"

CRANE     (looking   very  confused--doubting  his  sanity):
          "Admiral, I swear!  We heard it!  Didn't we, Jim?"

KIRK      (not  wishing  to incur Nelson's infamous  wrath):
          "Hey, I'm just along for the ride."

CRANE:    "Admiral, you've gotta believe me!  What about all
          the dust!  You saw it!  In the corridor!"

NELSON    (looking at Pem, and trying to contain his  fierce
          Irish  temper):  "It's all right, Lee.  I'm  quite
          sure  our  . . . our 'guest' had something  to  do
          with it.  Isn't that right, Mr. Pem?"

MR. PEM:  "Well,  now, Admiral, it just may be that  I  did.
          Then again, it just may be that I did not.  In any
          case,  I'm afraid we're wasting time.  And there's
          so  little of it to waste.  Have you forgotten the
          Enterprise is running out of oxygen as we speak?"

KIRK:     "Spock!  How much air do they have left?"

SPOCK:    "No  more  than twenty-two minutes,  Captain.   We
          must have that reactor fuel."

MR. PEM:  "Now, now, Mr. Spock, I'm afraid I have first dibs
          on the reactor."

KIRK:     "But  I  have a sick ship up there!   My  crew  is
          dying!"

MR. PEM   (feigning sadness):  "Tsk-tsk-tsk.  That is such a
          shame!   Truly,  it  is."  (Covering  a  chuckle):
          "Shall we go, Admiral?"


Nelson opens his mouth to answer, but hears his voice coming
from elsewhere.


NELSON 2  (talking   rapidly):   "Yes!   You'd  better   go,
          Admiral!  You'd better go!"


KIRK      (glancing up at his right shoulder and screaming):
          "AHHHHHHHHH!  Get this ugly thing off me!!!"


A  grinning  two and a half-foot puppet with  the  face  and
uniform   of  Harriman  Nelson  (4  stars  and  all!),   has
materialized  out  of  the nowhere into  the  here,  and  is
perched  precariously atop Kirk's shoulder.  Looking  around
at the various officers, the doll quips:


NELSON PUPPET: "So!   It's happened at last!  You  four  are
               all  together  in  one  place  at  one  time!
               Wait'll  I  tell  the Professor  about  this!
               He'll  wanna  conjure up a few thousand  Kirk
               and   Spock  puppets  to  sell  at  the  next
               STARCON.   We'll make a load-a loot  on  'em!
               Yes,  a load-a loot!!!  You know those  crazy
               Trekkies!  They'll buy anything!"

KIRK           (looking horrified):  "Spock!  Do something!"

SPOCK          (making   his   way  to  Kirk):   "Certainly,
               Captain."


The  Vulcan  reaches  up and applies a nerve  pinch  to  the
talkative doll.  But it seems to have no effect whatsoever.


NELSON PUPPET  (throwing its head about in an animated
               fashion):  "Hey!  Cut that out!  Ya tryin'-a
               crack my frame or somethin'?"

NELSON:        "Lee . . ."  (Rubbing one eye and sighing):
               ". . . get the flame-thrower."

CRANE          (heading for the weapon):  "Right!"

NELSON PUPPET: "Uh-oh!   Guess  I'd better  skedaddle!   But
               before  I go, may I just say . . ."   (Trying
               to  put  on a serious demeanor over  a  goofy
               grin):   "'It's  a fah, fah  bettah  thing  I
               dooo, than I have evah dun.  It's a fah,  fah
               bettah rest I--'  Whoops!"


Taking a step toward the doll, Crane lights the flame-
thrower.


NELSON PUPPET: "It's getting too hot in here for me!  Toodle-
               loo everybody!  Toodle-loo!"


The puppet pops out of sight.


KIRK      (with a hand over his heart):  "Man!  This sub
          gives me the creeps!  I'm gonna have bad dreams
          for at least a month!"

NELSON:   "Let's get to the Reactor Room, gentleman.  We
          still have two ships to save."

MR. PEM:  "Don't forget about me, Admiral."

NELSON    (hurrying to the Missile Room hatchway, and
          bringing Pem along by the elbow):  "How could I
          Mr. Pem?  How could I?"



In  the Sick Bay, the Mummy is starting to recover from  the
effects   of  the  tranquilizing  hypospray.   It  moves   a
tentative  hand, then snatches it back when someone  glances
in  its  direction.  Both the doctors, and all the available
corpsmen, are fully occupied treating minor injuries;  after
a  moment  the Mummy tries again, this time sitting  up  and
swinging  its legs stiffly to the floor.  Then  one  of  the
crewmen waiting in line notices, and yells.  McCoy looks  up
from  his  work  and  frowns as he sees  the  undead  figure
starting to lurch across the floor.  Unfortunately,  he  has
put  his  phaser  down  on Doc's desk,  out  of  reach.   An
examination  couch  tips over, scattering  pillows,  as  the
Mummy ploughs into it.  Another of the walking wounded grabs
a gun and takes a couple of wild shots, shattering the glass
front of the drugs cabinet.


McCOY:    "Hold your fire!  Lead slugs aren't going to  stop
          that thing!"


The  Mummy heads for the door, groaning, but McCoy  makes  a
dive for the phaser and lets off a blast of phaser-fire that
ought  to have vaporized it.  It staggers, but keeps  going,
flinging men aside, and heads off down the corridor.   McCoy
follows, firing again.  Doc comes running after him  with  a
handful of hyposprays, leaving the corpsmen to clean up  the
mess.   With uncanny precision, the Mummy heads for  one  of
the  few undamaged watertight doors in the ship and rips  it
off its hinges.  Then it comes face to face with the Nelson,
Crane,  Spock,  and  Kirk, with Mr. Pem close  behind  them.
Crane  falters;  between the stimulant  and  the  effect  of
Spock's  mind meld, he can keep the Mummy out of  his  mind,
but  coming so close to it is a strain.  Mr. Pem dodges into
a corner and starts picking lint off his sleeve; Kirk brings
his phaser up and fires.  Caught in the crossfire, the Mummy
at last crumples and falls.


CRANE     (staring  at it with horrified fascination):   "Is
          it dead?"

McCOY:    "He's dead, Jim--I mean, it's dead, Lee.  What  do
          you want to do with it, Admiral?"

NELSON    (looking down at the scorched and battered  bundle
          of  bandages slowly unraveling on the deck):  "Get
          rid  of it.  I can't imagine any museum would want
          it now."

KIRK:     "It  was  human once--we have to give it a  decent
          burial.  Put it into a torpedo casing and fire  it
          out into . . . the sea, I guess."

NELSON:   "It's a bit unorthodox, but . . ."

McCOY:    "It's  the only way to travel.  Isn't that  right,
          Spock?"

SPOCK:    "Not  for  the  first time, Doctor,  I  fear  your
          meaning escapes me."

CRANE:    "All  right,  take  it down to the  Missile  Room.
          Just get it away from me!"


Doc  uses the intercom to call up a couple of corpsmen,  who
pick the Mummy up by its arms and legs and haul it away.


MR. PEM:  "Ahem!  Gentlemen, if you please!  We are  on  our
          way to the Reactor Room, are we not?"

NELSON:   "Of course, Mr. Pem.  It's right down this way."

MR. PEM:  "And  no  nonsense about swapping over  labels  on
          doors, I hope?"

NELSON    (with  strained patience):  "Mr. Pem, have a  good
          look  around.  Do you really think we've had  time
          to fiddle around with door-labels today?"

MR. PEM:  "My  dear  Admiral, I've had too  much  experience
          with  your devious little mind to be convinced  by
          that argument.  I can only hope that this time you
          will have the sense to cooperate--for the sake  of
          the future, if not for your own crew."

NELSON:   "The future?  Oh, you mean the problems that might
          be  caused  if our visitors don't find  their  way
          back to the twenty-third century?"

SPOCK:    "That is a real difficulty, Admiral."

NELSON:   "Then what are we waiting for?  Come on!"


They  all  hurry  down  the corridor,  around  a  couple  of
corners,  and  finally  arrive at  the  Reactor  Room.   The
Abominable Snowman is gone, but the floor is still a heaving
mass  of fur, with only a few ragged bits of red petal still
showing.  Knee-deep  in  tribbles,  Scott  and  Sharkey  are
working on the reactor.


CRANE:    "What are those things?"

SCOTT:    "Och, laddie.  Did ye never see a tribble before?"

CRANE:    "No,  and  I don't want to see them in my  Reactor
          Room!"

NELSON:   "Relax,  Lee.  They do seem to have taken care  of
          the  orchid problem for us.     And--"  (He  picks
          up the nearest one and looks it over.  It wriggles
          ecstatically in his hand, and purrs):  "--you have
          to admit they're quite appealing."

KIRK:     "I'm   with  Lee  on  this  one,  Admiral.   Those
          creatures are a pest!"

MR. PEM:  "Never  mind those pathetic little furballs!   Can
          you repair the reactor?"

SCOTT:    "It  disnae  look  good.   The  core's  completely
          drained."

NELSON:   "At  least  we  seem to have lost  the  Abominable
          Snowman."

SCOTT:    "Aye.   He just up and wandered off--just  when  I
          thought we were getting somewhere.  It may be  too
          late for the reactor, though."

KIRK:     "Come on, Scotty.  You must have at least one more
          trick up your sleeve.  Out with it!"

CRANE:    "Wait  a  minute!  I've just thought of something.
          Why  don't we just hand over one of the rods  from
          the reactor?"

NELSON:   "Oh,  Lee.  Pay attention, will you?  We're  using
          dampening rods this week, not fuel rods."

CRANE:    "Sorry, Admiral.  So much has happened today,  I'm
          losing track."

MR. PEM:  "Anyway,  refueling the starship is only half  the
          problem.  I need that reactor!"

SPOCK:    "There  may be a way.  If we could induce a  phase
          transition in the material of the dampening rods--
          "

SCOTT     (eagerly):    "Of  course!   If  we   could   just
          transform  the rods back into fuel, we'd  be  home
          free!"

NELSON:   "And how do you propose to do that?"

SPOCK:    "Well, studies in your own century showed--or will
          shortly  show--that  some  phase  transitions--the
          ordering transition in the proton bond of ice, for
          example--could  be  dramatically  speeded  up   by
          doping  the material with alkali hydroxides.   The
          improved mobility of the bonds allowed the  first-
          order  phase  transition to  take  place  in  days
          rather  than  the  millennia that would  otherwise
          have been required."

CRANE     (looking  puzzled):  "I'm afraid you've  lost  me.
          'First order phase transition'?"

SPOCK:    "A phase transition, Captain, is a change from one
          state of matter to another as a result of a change
          in  the  ambient conditions--such as, for example,
          the  boiling of water or the melting  of  ice.   A
          first   order   transition  is  one  involving   a
          discontinuous  change  in  the  heat  capacity  at
          constant pressure."

CRANE:    "Thanks.   I never could remember that theoretical
          stuff  for  longer than it took to pass the  exam.
          But I still don't see how that helps."

NELSON:   "It  doesn't.  Fascinating as this might be  at  a
          more  appropriate time, it's all completely beside
          the point!"

SPOCK     (stiffly, as though he might be a bit offended--if
          that  was possible for a Vulcan):  "Do you have  a
          more pertinent suggestion, Admiral?"

NELSON:   "Actually, I do.  If we take the reactor  off-line
          completely, we can swap the dampening rods  for  a
          fresh  set of fuel cells.  It's irregular,  but  I
          can't see any other way to restore power in time!"

SHARKEY   (shocked):  "Admiral, are you sure that's OK?   We
          weren't  supposed to make the switch  for  another
          two days!"

NELSON:   "Chief, I built this reactor, remember?"

SHARKEY:  "Yes, sir.  And you wrote the specs, too--you know
          better  than anyone how long it takes to  shut  it
          down and start it up again!"

NELSON:   "Don't  worry, Chief.  In an emergency like  this,
          there are a few shortcuts I can use."

SCOTT:    "Admiral, ye're a man after my own heart!"

SHARKEY   (still not happy):  "But . . ."

NELSON:   "I thought I ordered you not to worry?  Anyway, if
          it doesn't work we'll know soon enough.  Lee, I'll
          need  a  full  set of fuel rods from stores.   Get
          someone else to carry them, but get them down here
          as  fast as you can!  Chief, we'll need plenty  of
          rags.   Go  down to the Missile Room and see  what
          you can find."

MR. PEM:  "Splendid, Admiral.  I knew you'd find a way!"

NELSON:   "And  you,  Mr. Pem, can make yourself useful  and
          help  clear these creatures out of he way.   We're
          going to need plenty of room to work."

CRANE:    "I'll send some men down with kit-bags."

NELSON:   "Good idea.  Now get going!"

CRANE:    "Aye, sir!"


Crane and Sharkey hurry out.


NELSON    (looking  after  them,  and  shaking  his   head):
          "You'll have to excuse Lee, Mr. Spock.  He's got a
          lot on his mind right now.  Anyway, he's really  a
          lot smarter than he lets on."

SPOCK:    "Yes.  I had presumed as much.  He is, after  all,
          Admiral, the man who invented the Transporter."

NELSON:   "But  that  was years ago, Mr. Spock.  A  lifetime
          ago.   Lee doesn't like to talk about his days  as
          Doctor Andre--a.k.a., Andy the Fly.  Bad memories,
          you know."

SPOCK:    "Understandable.  Of course, he was right, but  at
          the wrong time.  Came to a rather ghastly end,  if
          I remember my history correctly."

NELSON:   "Yes.  He suffered a real crushing blow.  Two,  as
          a  matter of fact.  To this day, he has a fear  of
          hydraulic presses."


Scott, Kirk and Spock go to work, moving tribbles away  from
the reactor and piling them in corners; even Mr. Pem lends a
hand.   The creatures keep crawling back, but when a  couple
of silent crewmen turn up with a bundle of kit-bags, the job
gets easier, though the tribbles still keep wriggling out of
the  bags.   Nelson  picks his way  over  to  the  reactor's
emergency  off-switch, and throws it.  The  ship  lurches  a
bit, on general principles; the reactor goes quiet and dark.
A  moment later, the lights go out, then come back up as the
emergency  generator kicks in.  Nelson gets into  protective
gear,  picks up a set of giant tongs, and begins  extracting
the burnt-out dampening rods.  Presently, Sharkey comes back
with  his arms full of a tangle of grubby-looking strips  of
cloth.


SHARKEY:  "Admiral, here's those rags you asked for."

KIRK      (sniffing):  "Are those what I think they are?"

SHARKEY:  "Well, the Mummy didn't need them any more, and it
          didn't seem right to waste them."

NELSON    (managing to keep a straight face, but only just):
          "Thank  you, Chief.  Put them down over here,  and
          get into radiation gear."

KIRK:     "Shouldn't we be in that gear, too?"

NELSON:   "Relax,  Captain.  The reactor's  harmless  unless
          you  get close enough to touch it.  Stay a  couple
          of  feet  away,  and you'll be fine.   I  wouldn't
          recommend leaning against it when it's on, though-
          -isn't that right, Pem?"


Mr.  Pem looks pained, but says nothing.  By the time  Crane
comes  back  with three crewmen carrying the  shielded  fuel
rods, most of the tribbles have been bagged and moved out of
the way.  The ragged remains of the orchids perk up a bit at
the sudden increase in the radiation level, but they are too
far  gone  to  be much of a threat.  Meanwhile,  Nelson  has
stripped  down the reactor manifold, and Sharkey is cleaning
the oily components with bits of mummy-bandage.


NELSON    (his  voice muffled by the safety visor):   "Good.
          Did you have any trouble?"

CRANE:    "Nothing  worse than a few blocked  corridors  and
          some   toppled  piles  of  crates  in  the  stores
          locker."

NELSON:   "No men-fish?  No lobsters running around?"

CRANE:    "Not  a  one.  It looks like they've all gone.   I
          didn't  so  much  as  catch a glimpse  of  Senator
          Dennis.  Even Moby Dick's gone."

SHARKEY:  "I  don't  like this.  Suddenly, everything's  too
          easy!"

CRANE:    "I'd  hardly say that, Chief.  We've still got  to
          get  the  reactor  up and running again--and  then
          we'll have Mr. Pem to deal with."

MR. PEM:  "I  assure you, Captain, I'll be no trouble.  Once
          I  have my device charged up, I'll be on my  way--
          until I need the next recharge."

NELSON:   "Now  wait  a  minute!   Who said  anything  about
          turning you loose?"

MR. PEM:  "I  hope  you  don't mean to arrange  yet  another
          unpleasant death for me, Admiral?"

NELSON:   "We'll  talk about that later.  Chief, give  me  a
          hand here, will you?"

KIRK      (aside, to Crane):  "Does he have a plan, or is he
          just bluffing?"

CRANE     (shrugging):  "Sometimes even I can't  tell.   But
          he'll come up with something."

NELSON    (starting  to  reassemble  the  innards   of   the
          reactor):   "I'll have this ready to go  in  about
          five  minutes.  Mr. Scott, you should be  able  to
          start  collecting the photons now.  Start  putting
          the rods in, Chief."


Sharkey  picks  up  the  tongs and pulls  the  first  pinkly
glowing rod out of its shielded container.  Scott takes  out
his  makeshift photon-trap and applies it to the side of the
reactor casing; Mr. Pem grins; the last ragged shreds of the
orchids  rustle.   At that moment, Crane is  assailed  by  a
sudden wave of dizziness.  He sways, and Kirk steadies him.


NELSON    (looking  up  from his work for a moment):   "Lee?
          Are  you  OK?  If the radiation's getting to  you,
          you'd better get out of here."

CRANE     (faintly):  "It's not the radiation.  I think .  .
          .  I  think it's the Mummy.  He's awake again, and
          this  time  he's  really mad!  You shouldn't  have
          unwrapped  him,  Chief."  (He takes  a  couple  of
          unsteady  steps  towards the pile of  oily  rags.)
          "You'd better let me have those."


Mr.  Pem surreptitiously bends down, flips open the  lid  of
another fuel rod case, and holds his timepiece in the  glow.
Seconds later, the hatch of the Reactor Room bursts open and
the   Mummy  staggers  in,  trailing  barely  enough  ragged
remnants  of bandage to cover it decently, and howling  with
rage.   It  snatches  up a wriggling sack  of  tribbles  and
flings  it  at  Sharkey, who manages to dodge, dropping  the
fuel  rod.   Tribbles  scatter in all directions,  squeaking
protests.  The Mummy ignores them, makes a grab for  an  end
of  bandage,  and starts trying to re-wrap  itself.   Nelson
grabs  the tongs, picks up the fuel rod and advances on  the
Mummy with it.


SPOCK     (observing  all  this  with  a  quizzical  eyebrow
          raised):  "Gentlemen, may I point out that we have
          only  ten  minutes remaining before the Enterprise
          runs out of air."


Mr.  Pem  pulls his timepiece out of the radiation,  studies
it,  smirks,  makes a tiny adjustment, and presses  the  red
button.  The Mummy vanishes, and Nelson barely stops himself
from overbalancing and falling on the fuel rod.


CRANE:    "He really is gone."

NELSON:   "Are you sure about that?"

CRANE:    "I'm  sure,  Admiral.  I don't--"  (he  moves  his
          head experimentally, and grins):     "--feel dizzy
          any more!"

KIRK:     "Where'd he go?"

MR. PEM:  "Back  where he belongs, of course--in a  pyramid,
          three thousand years ago."

CRANE:    "He won't like that.  All he really wanted was  to
          get back to his nice air-conditioned museum in New
          York."

MR. PEM:  "There's no pleasing some people, is there?"

CRANE:    "For  once,  Mr. Pem, I'm grateful to  you.   That
          thing was getting on my nerves."

KIRK:     "Say, that was a neat trick.  Can you do the  same
          with the tribbles?"

NELSON:   "We'd  appreciate it, Mr. Pem, if you've  got  the
          power  to spare.  Appealing as they may be,  these
          creatures don't belong in this time or place."

SHARKEY   (picking one up):  "I'd like to keep one  or  two.
          They're kinda cute."

NELSON    (firmly):  "No, Chief."

MR. PEM:  "This  is  outside  the terms  of  our  agreement,
          Admiral."

NELSON:   "You got rid of the Mummy."

MR. PEM:  "That  was  a  small  gesture  of  goodwill,  made
          possible by the small amount of radiation power  I
          extracted from the fuel rod.  Before I do you  any
          more  favours  of that nature, I'd like  something
          extra in return."

NELSON    (warily):  "Oh.  Such as?"

SPOCK:    "Admiral,  we  have seven minutes and thirty-three
          seconds  remaining.   I respectfully  suggest  you
          concentrate   on   returning   the   reactor    to
          operation."

NELSON:   "You're  right.   In the meantime,  Captain  Kirk,
          you'd better round up your crew."

KIRK:     "Where is everyone, anyway?"

SHARKEY:  "You'll  find  that  Russkie  kid  in  the  Crew's
          Quarters, sir."

KIRK:     "Not talking politics again, I hope?"

SHARKEY:  "Last  I  saw,  he was feeding those  tribbles  he
          picked up."

KIRK:     "I'll make sure they're brought back here with the
          others.  What about Riley?  I can hear he's around
          here somewhere. . ."


Nelson,  Sharkey,  Crane, Spock and Kirk  exchange  headachy
glances  as  the Riley boys continue to make their  presence
known through the ship's PA system.


RILEY
and
RILEY     (in harmony):
          "'Do you love me, do you surfer . . . girl, 
          surfer girl, my little surfer gi--'"


SHARKEY   (furious,  he  grabs a mike just  before  the  key
          change takes effect):  "RILEY!"


Mercifully, the singing finally stops.


RILEY S   (on  intercom):  "Man oh man, Chief!  Don't holler
          like  that!   Ya nearly gave Kev and me  a  heart-
          attack!  So, uh . . . what's cookin', Daddio?"

SHARKEY   (blood  pressure rising fast):  "'What's cookin'?'
          Ya  wanna know what's cookin'?  Your hide, Mister,
          if you don't knock off the noise!"

RILEY S:  "But Chief--"

SHARKEY:  "Don't 'but Chief' me!  Now you go get yourself  a
          mop,  surfer  boy, and you start  swabbin'  decks!
          And  Mister,  they better shine  like  they  never
          shined before!  And tell your . . . your grampa to
          get  himself down here to the Reactor Room on  the
          double!   Him and his shipmates are goin' bye-bye.
          Sharkey, out!"

SPOCK:    "And  I  must return to the Control Room and  make
          another attempt to contact the Enterprise."

MR. PEM   (as  Kirk and Spock turn to leave):  "One  moment,
          gentlemen.  I have a proposition for you!"

KIRK:     "Forget  it.  You're not coming anywhere near  the
          Enterprise."

SPOCK:    "Jim."

MR. PEM:  "Not  so fast, Captain.  You do wish to leave this
          planet  and this time, do you not?  As quickly  as
          possible?  Why should we not travel together?  New
          worlds?   New  civilisations?  A whole  Galaxy  of
          possibilities!"

KIRK:     "No  thanks.  Our timelines are tangled enough  as
          it is, without any help from you!"

MR. PEM:  "Then  perhaps you would appreciate some  help  in
          untangling them?"

SPOCK     (laying a hand on Kirk's arm):  "That would indeed
          be welcome.  Would it not, Captain?"

KIRK:     "Huh?   Oh--yes,  of course.  On  second  thought,
          Mr.Pem,  we'd  be glad to give you a  ride.   Just
          wait here a few minutes, and we'll be back to pick
          you up."


He  climbs  over the broken door and out into the  corridor.
Before  he and Spock are quite out of earshot, he  turns  to
his  First  Officer  and  demands what  he  is  playing  at.
Meanwhile,   Nelson  and  a  shaken  Chief  Sharkey   finish
reassembling the reactor.  As soon as the last fuel  rod  is
in  place, Nelson sets some dials on the control board, then
throws the master switch.  The reactor stutters, then  comes
to life.


SCOTT:    "Congratulations,  Admiral.  This  baby's  running
          fine.   Could  you  give her just  a  leetle  more
          power?"

NELSON:   "I  certainly  hope  so!   Lee,  turn  her  up  to
          maximum."

CRANE     (adjusting the controls):  "Aye, sir."

SCOTT     (after a little while, satisfied with the readings
          from  his  device): "That should do  it!   There's
          enough  energy here to get the Enterprise back  to
          normal.  Admiral, I cannae thank you enough."

NELSON:   "You're  welcome. Mr. Pem?  Do you have  what  you
          need?"

MR. PEM:  "Yes,  Admiral.   Once  again,  you've  given   me
          exactly  what  I  wanted.   Once  again,  I   have
          complete,  nearly  unlimited,  power  over  time--
          enough  to whisk you all back a million years,  or
          unravel half the world's history. "

CRANE:    "I  hope  you're not planning anything  like  that
          right now.  I think we've all had about enough for
          one day."

MR. PEM:  "Don't  worry, Captain.  Why should I bother  with
          this  one  little world?  In a few  minutes,  I'll
          have a whole galaxy to play with!"

CRANE:    "I  wonder  why  that doesn't  make  me  feel  any
          better?"

NELSON:   "Well, if you're leaving this world, Mr. Pem,  you
          won't  mind handling this one last little  problem
          for us, will you?"

MR. PEM:  "Problem?   What problem would that  be,  my  dear
          Admiral?"

NELSON:   "The tribbles?"

MR. PEM:  "Oh, that little matter.  A mere bagatelle!"   (He
          presses  his button with a flourish, and  all  the
          tribbles vanish.)  "Is there anything else  I  can
          do for you, Admiral?  Just to express my gratitude
          for allowing me to live?"

NELSON:   "Don't push your luck, Pem."


Running  feet  are  heard  in the  corridor,  and  presently
Captain Kirk jogs in, a little out of breath, with the  rest
of  his  crewmembers behind him.  Chekov is wondering  aloud
about  the  disappearance of his tribbles; Riley is  humming
"Sloop  John  B"; and McCoy is grumbling about being  called
away in the middle of treating a patient.


KIRK:     "Ready, Scotty?"

SCOTT:    "I'm  ready, Captain.  Did ye manage to raise  the
          Enterprise?"

KIRK:     "Of  course.   Everything this  end  seems  to  be
          working  now,  and they've got just  enough  power
          left up there to beam up five people.  That's you,
          Scotty, of course, Bones, Chekov, Riley--and  you,
          Mr.  Pem, if you still want to join us.  Spock and
          I can follow in a few minutes, once the Enterprise
          is  back  on  full  power.  All  right,  get  into
          position."

MR. PEM:  "Into position?  Position for what?"

SPOCK:    "For beam-up, Mr. Pem.  Allow me."


He  reaches out to steer Mr. Pem into the correct  spot--and
nerve-pinches him.  Pem crumples without a sound, and  Spock
removes the timepiece carefully from his hand.


NELSON:   "Thank you, Mr. Spock. I'll take that."

SPOCK:    "Please  do,  Admiral.  I would not be comfortable
          allowing Mr. Pem aboard the Enterprise if  he  had
          the device in his possession."

NELSON:   "He'll try to build another one, you know."

KIRK:     "I'm sure he will.  But I know a nice, uninhabited
          planet  where he won't be able to do much harm  if
          he  builds a hundred time devices.  It's right  on
          our  way--we  won't have him aboard  more  than  a
          couple of hours."

SPOCK:    "I  trust  that  solution is satisfactory  to  all
          parties?"

NELSON    (chuckling):  "It's certainly satisfactory for us.
          Mr.Pem will have to make the most of it."

SCOTT:    "Captain, we have'na much time."

KIRK:     "Of  course."   He  flips open  his  communicator.
          "Kirk to Enterprise.  Mr. Sulu, energize!"


Scotty,  Bones,  Chekov,  Riley  and  the  unconscious   Pem
dissolve into sparkling glitter and disappear.


CRANE     (shaking  his head):  "Well, I guess that's  about
          over.   Now  all  we have to do is  clean  up  the
          ship!"

SHARKEY:  "And  that's  going  to  be  a  job  and  a  half,
          Skipper!"

NELSON:   "Never  mind  that now.  Come on,  Lee--you  still
          look like you could use some fresh air.  Why don't
          we  go up on deck and see our remaining guests off
          from there?"

KIRK:     "Fresh air?  That sounds like the best offer  I've
          had all day.  Come on, Spock!"

SPOCK:    "I  will  join you presently, Captain.  There  are
          some  pieces  of  equipment  I  need  to  collect.
          Admiral, would you care to join me?"

NELSON:   "By all means.  You two go on ahead--we'll be with
          you in a minute or two."

END OF ACT 4


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Copyright 1997 Rachel Howe and Alison Passarelli