by Judith
“It could not have survived in that form,” Spock said. “As it exists now, it is vulnerable to our weapons.”
“Thank you, Mr. Spock, but our weapons won’t be necessary. Uhura, cancel red alert.”
McCoy stormed down to Kirk. “Not be necessary? Good Lord, Jim. That thing is in contact with the drones that destroyed Talin. It’s probably planning to eat the entire planet by the time it gets there.”
“It’s not planning to do anything, Bones. It can’t think.”
“Neither can a shark,” McCoy muttered.
Spock stepped down beside McCoy. “In any event, Doctor, at the slow speed with which it is traveling, Starfleet will have ample time to return and either capture or destroy the creature.”
Kirk shook his head. “Starfleet’s not going to capture or destroy that creature, Spock. What purpose would that serve?”
“To pay it back for all the other worlds it destroyed with the drones,” McCoy said.
“To preserve the worlds which it might destroy in the future,” Spock added.
Kirk turned to McCoy. “Bones, it can’t be paid back. It didn’t decide to destroy worlds any more than the shark knows the difference between eating a fish or a swimmer.” Kirk looked at Spock. “And there are lots of planets out there, Spock. If those drones were able to mindlessly convert Talin IV into a suitable planet for their host in less than two decades, just think what the Starfleet corps of engineers could do in six decades to prepare one of the Talin gas giants for it.” Kirk put his hands on the arms of his chair and gazed at the screen, watching the swirling gray mass shrink to a dot. “It’s a big universe, gentlemen. With worlds enough, and time for everyone.”
[387] Kirk looked back at his friends. Neither one looked satisfied but that reaction pleased him; It meant he could be sure that he had made the right decision.
There were no enemies here. Only mysteries.
The Enterprise came about in space. Her mission, at last, continued.
Part Four
THE NEW MISSION
ONE
In standard orbit around Talin IV, the Enterprise resonated with the activity of her newly returned crew. Kirk moved briskly through the corridors as if drawing life from the energy they brought back to the ship. His ship. The new gold command shirt he wore made him feel as if he had returned home. He had.
In the main branch corridors leading to the cargo transporters, an earnest-looking lieutenant with a Starfleet Command insignia on his blue shirt jogged up behind Kirk, carrying a fat sheaf of printouts and a screenpad. He was balding and the last remnants of his curly brown hair were mussed and unruly, like the hair of someone who had been up all night. Kirk didn’t care. He guessed that at least half of Command hadn’t had any sleep for the past two days.
The lieutenant caught up to Kirk and had to walk quickly to keep the rapid pace. “Captain Kirk,” he said breathlessly, the voice of a man in a hurry, “I’m Peter Bloch-Hansen, sir. Starfleet Emergency Rescue Office.”
Kirk kept moving, no time to waste. All through the corridors other crew members ran or jogged, carrying equipment and supplies. There was so much to do. So much time wasted. He [392] thought of Richter then, still in the Exeter’s sickbay. He knew what drove the man.
“Has the order come through yet?” Kirk asked brusquely.
“No sir, Captain,” Bloch-Hansen said.
Kirk didn’t bother to correct the lieutenant. Until the order did come through, he was still ‘mister.’ But no one doubted that Nogura’s order was not already blistering through subspace to the Talin system. Too much had happened for even Starfleet to ignore. And when that order came, it had better include full apologies for each member of the Enterprise Five.
Kirk guessed it would be an easy apology for Command to make. Only Uhura’s case would require Starfleet to go to the trouble and potential embarrassment of an official review board to withdraw all charges of contempt and to reinstate her. Because the rest of the Five had resigned, regulations allowed them to rejoin Starfleet service at full rank and pay anytime within six months. With a bit of bureaucratic juggling, Starfleet could even manage to keep the resignations out of the official records, as if they had never happened.
“But I do have the new figures for you, sir,” Bloch-Hansen continued. He shuffled his printouts as he and Kirk weaved rapidly around the other rushing crew they passed in the corridor. “As of twenty minutes ago, there were five hundred and twelve vessels in stacked orbits around Talin IV. They’ll be working in shifts to transfer their relief supplies to the Enterprise and the Exeter for mass beaming to the surface. The time/ton transfer schedules are here. ...” He offered Kirk his screenpad.
Kirk ignored it. He kept walking. “Tell me about the Talin. Was Spock right about the survival rate?”
The lieutenant efficiently produced a printout from his bundle. He was prepared for anything. “Mr. Spock was right, sir. The figure is astonishing. As long as they escaped immediate blast and fire injuries, their autonomie cocooning reflex would have dropped their metabolism right down ... uh, the life readings show just more than two billion Talin remain alive on their planet, ninety-five percent in hibernation.”
[393] Kirk stopped and looked at Bloch-Hansen with relief. That was far higher than anyone, even Spock, had hoped.
The lieutenant continued. “I estimate a complete revival program should take three years, but by that time the seeders’ growth will be scavenged from the oceans.”
“How’s the drone contact team working out?” Kirk and Bloch-Hansen turned the corner into the final corridor. The entrance to the cargo transporter room was jammed with people, some crew, some civilians.
“The task force will arrive on Talin’s moon to begin relocating the drones within a week, sir. The Talin ambassadors have given permission for them to begin seeding the gas giant, Talin VIII. It will be converted into a food source well within the next sixty years.”
Kirk shouldered his way into the crowd. “Good work, Lieutenant. Let me know when the order comes in.”
Bloch-Hansen stopped at the edge of the crowd. “Oh, you’ll know when it comes, sir. You’ll know.”
As people realized who was pushing up against them, they quickly made way to let Kirk through. He passed the processing desk with a nod from the volunteer coordinators and stepped out to the open area immediately in front of the honeycombed crystal pads of the cargo transporter grid.
Nearby, Chekov and Sulu stood with Christine Chapel, checking a crate of medical tricorders. Kirk could hear the two ensigns telling the others about Lieutenant Styles’s new assignment—ferrying the impounded Queen Mary back to Starbase 29. There was much laughter as Sulu explained how the gravity generator on the Orion ship had mysteriously been broken. It could only put out a three-gee field now, and it was tied into the warp drive so it couldn’t be turned off. “I am certain the lieutenant will wery much enjoy his weighty new position,” Chekov said.
Kirk looked around for Spock among the confusing stacks of boxes and knots of people. As he turned around, he bumped into McCoy. The doctor was back in his science blues.
“Have you seen Spock?” Kirk asked.
[394] “No. He’s probably hiding from me.” McCoy reached out without warning and jammed a spray hypo against Kirk’s arm. “There,” he said when the longer-than-usual spray was done, “now you can eat plutonium for breakfast.”
Kirk rubbed at the tingling spot where the radiation stabilizer had entered. “Is that going to work on the Talin?”
“It needed some modification, but M’Benga’s already got the first batch processing.”
“Good work, Bones. Or do you prefer ‘Black Ire’ now?” Kirk chuckled at McCoy’s sudden look of discomfort. “How’d you ever come up with that one, anyway?”
McCoy frowned. “Someday I’ll tell you about my illustrious ancestors. If I live that long.” He tried to change the subject. “Has the order come in?”
Kirk looked around the huge room. It was
filled with at least twenty different conversations and the hum of antigravs as boxes were received and stacked through the doors leading to the cargo hold. “Not yet,” Kirk said. He suspected there would be pandemonium when it did come through. “Why do you think Spock’s—”
Suddenly he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned to see Anne Gauvreau. Her flight jacket had a new crest proudly sewn on the front. The writing on it was in Talin splatterscript.
Kirk looked at the crates on the transporter grid. Most were marked with bold red crosses. “Is this from the Shelton?”
Gauvreau patted one of the crates. “Sure is. Starfleet Emergency Rescue didn’t want to wait for the official word. They’re buying all the medical supplies that everyone’s brought in. If the supplies aren’t used here, they say, then they’ll still be useful somewhere else.”
“These supplies will be used on Talin,” Kirk said. There was no doubt in his voice. “So ... until things get settled here, I suppose you freighter captains are going to be leaving this system with empty holds.”
Gauvreau smiled brightly. “Not this time.” She looked at McCoy and winked. “Thanks to Dr. McCoy, the T’Prar [395] Foundation has hired me to transport twenty-six Orion females to a reorientation village on Delta Triciatu.”
“Delta?” Kirk asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Seems Deltan males aren’t affected by the Orion females’ pheromones, so it’s a good place for them to be helped to start their own lives again. And besides ... I’ve always wanted to go there. ...” Gauvreau blushed. “Look, I’ve got to break orbit to let another ship get into transporter range.” She leaned closer and kissed Kirk on his cheek. “Thank you for making me feel I was back in Starfleet again.”
“Thank you for bringing me back,” Kirk said, then watched her move off into the crowd by the door. He hoped he would see her again.
Kirk turned to McCoy. “Whatever happened to those pirates?”
“In the brig on the Exeter. Last I heard Krulmadden was trying to buy it from her captain.”
“I’m glad he’s not on this ship talking to Chekov,” Kirk said. He looked up with sudden interest as another crew member jostled him as she walked by with an antigrav pallet of visual sensors. It was Carolyn Palamas.
“Welcome back, Captain Kirk,” she said. “The herbarium roses are in bloom again. I checked.”
Kirk stumbled over a reply as she continued on without waiting for one. When he turned back to McCoy, he was greeted by a soppy smile. “Don’t you start,” Kirk warned.
Then McCoy looked puzzled and Kirk saw why. Spock was approaching. Like the doctor, the science officer was wearing his uniform again, tricorder hanging at his side. But he was also carrying a familiar-looking green bottle.
“Mr. Spock,” Kirk said with a bemused expression, “is that whisky?”
Spock held the bottle up to read the label, as if confirming that it was true. “Yes,” he admitted. “It was given to me by Mr. Scott.”
“Did he say why?” Kirk asked.
[396] “He said it was my ... birthday present.”
McCoy looked surprised. “It’s not your birthday, Spock.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I explained that to Mr. Scott, but he was quite emotional about it. He said, and I quote, ‘Och, it dinna matter one wee bit.’ And then he asked me when the party would be.”
McCoy held a hand out. “Tell you what, Spock. Why don’t you just give me the bottle as a token of apology and then you can stop trying to hide from me.”
“Doctor, not only am I not trying to hide from you, I can think of no action on my part for which I might possibly owe you an apology.”
McCoy feigned great shock. “Spock, I said there were aliens, remember? When we were talking in the shuttle at the outpost, and I said that it was obvious that the Talin were under observation by other aliens but you said, nooo, there were no other aliens. There’s nothing of value in this system, you said. And meanwhile those drones were creating something of value—that purple sludge of theirs—right under your big pointed ears. But you didn’t see it and I did. I said—”
Kirk held his hands up as if threatening to cover McCoy’s mouth.
“Bones, you keep going on like that and we’re all going to have to hide from you.”
McCoy folded his arms and smiled smugly. “I don’t care. All that matters is that I was absolutely, inarguably right and—”
“As I recall,” Spock said dryly, “you suggested there were Klingons with Romulan cloaking devices lurking about.”
“I said aliens,” McCoy insisted.
“You said—”
“What about the aliens?” Kirk asked Spock. “Any results from the FCO’s computer analysis of our sensor readings?”
Spock and McCoy didn’t break eye contact. “A classic symbiotic relationship, Captain. It appears Dr. Richter was correct when he said that life everywhere was the same—even when it originates in different universes. The computers have modeled a logical relationship between the two lifeforms: The [397] seeder drones prepare planets with the purple food organism which then converts the entire biosphere into a highly radioactive algae analogue. When the One arrives in the system, it enfolds the planet and ingests the converted biosphere. In return, it carries some of the drones from system to system, providing energy to them so that they can survive the journey between the stars. Other drones it sends ahead on a smaller clump of accelerated matter, somewhat like plants spreading spores.”
“How do they decide which planets to go to?” Kirk asked.
“I do not think ‘decide’ is the term to be used, Captain. The selection of planets for seeding is most likely an instinctual response, done without consciousness. I suspect that we may find that colonies of drones lie dormant in thousands of systems throughout the galaxy, waiting to be awakened by the first electromagnetic pulses resulting from an atomic explosion. That would indicate that fusion warheads will soon be developed on a given planet and that the planet’s inhabitants could therefore be manipulated to devastate their biosphere with radiation, making it a suitable world for the growth of the algae. As the drones come to life and begin their instinctive behavior to create tension on the target planet, they send out signals to the One, informing it that a new planet is about to be seeded.”
McCoy fidgeted with his tricorder and medikit. “I still don’t see how anything could survive the death and birth of a universe.”
“Especially if the physician present at that birth were—”
Kirk broke in again. “Perhaps, gentlemen, we should simply accept that there are still mysteries in the universe. Or the universes.” He smiled at them. “Let’s leave something for another ship to do, all right?”
Before either McCoy or Spock could answer, the page whistle of the ship’s intercom system sounded. Instantly, every conversation in the cargo transporter room stopped. Only the background whir of the equipment could be heard until Uhura’s voice came on.
[398] “Attention all crew. Attention all crew. The USS Enterprise, as flagship for the Starfleet Relief Operation to Talin ...” Kirk felt the hair on his neck bristle. He heard small gasps from the people in the room who also understood what Uhura had just said. This collection of ships had been given a name. The Starfleet Relief Operation to Talin. Uhura didn’t have to read the rest. It was official.
“... has just received this subspace communiqué from Nogura, Admiral, Starfleet Command: Effective this stardate, Earth, the findings of Starfleet’s board of inquiry into the incident at Talin IV are rescinded. In addition, with remorse, Starfleet offers full and official apologies to—” The transporter room resounded with applause. Kirk felt hands slapping at his back. He struggled to hear the rest of what Uhura read. He had been waiting so long to hear it.
“Also, in accordance with Starfleet Command Regulations, General Order One, Talin IV is hereby recognized as a planet whose normal development has been subject to extraplanetary interference and thus is excused from the Prim
e Directive of Noninterference.” The ship seemed to shake with the roar of the cheers which joined the continuing applause echoing through her. Uhura’s voice was almost lost amid the tumult.
“Therefore, all Starfleet personnel are requested to take whatever action may be deemed necessary to repair the damage caused by such interference. Furthermore, in recognition of the General Council’s ruling to admit Talin to the United Federation of Planets, all Federation citizens are likewise urged—”
It was no use. Her voice was completely drowned out. Kirk’s ears rang. McCoy had cupped his hands to his mouth and was shouting deafening huzzahs. Kirk caught Spock’s eye and saw his science officer smile, just fleetingly, and before anyone else could notice.
Then, as swiftly as it had begun, the joyous ovation quietened. It was not replaced by a return to the conversation and the activity which had preceded it. There was only silence. For a moment Kirk was puzzled. But only for a moment.
“Captain,” Spock said, “the crew awaits your orders.”
[399] McCoy put his hand to Kirk’s arm. “Now you really are back, Jim.”
Without hesitation, Captain James T. Kirk stepped onto the transporter platform and faced his crew. He nodded to Kyle, standing ready at the transporter console, and gave his crew the order they waited for.
“Energize,” he said.
TWO
The shimmering veil of transporter energy fell from Kirk’s eyes and he gazed onto a city of the dead.
The air of Talin was thick with the stench of rot and smoke. A sea breeze blew up from the distant ocean where he could see foul purple waves crash against a beach of blackened wood and the skeletons of sea creatures that had washed ashore. Even the shafts of weak sunlight which cut through the overcast skies seemed gray and dull.
Kirk stepped forward onto the ash of the shattered world that had briefly borne his name. Before him was what the sensors had determined was the largest gathering of still-functioning, uncocooned survivors on the planet. Its population numbered less than four hundred.
