The head, or such Kirk considered it, was a milky opaque crystalline substance resembling rutilated quartz. Black striations ran through it, bunching into dark nodules at various points within.
From the flat underside of the head, set several centimeters in from the fringe, dangled long articulated tentacles of dark yellow. They were similar in shape and form to the hundreds of skittering feet projecting from the Boqus's base. They swayed and moved easily, under obvious control.
It was impossible to tell whether the expedition was facing the creature's front, back, or side, or indeed if such terms meant anything in regard to a Boqus. Equally, there was nothing faintly identifiable as a mouth, nose, eyes, ears, or anything else indicative of a face.
Kirk elected to regard the portion of the being facing him as its front. "I'm—" He cleared his throat, still recovering from the initial surprise of the Boqus's unmasking. "I am Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. This is my first officer, Mr. Spock; my chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy; and sec—our vehicle pilot, Lieutenant Meyers."
This produced an agitated jangling of those dangling tentacles, and the creature seemed to draw back. Could he have made a mistake already, Kirk mused?
He had not. "Chief medical officer!" came the excited thought. "Then you have come in response to the prayers of the animax!"
"Prayers? Animax?" McCoy echoed in confusion. The Boqus's limbs relaxed, but its thoughts were still in turmoil.
"You have not come in response to our need, to end the epidemic?"
Kirk suddenly understood the reason behind the deserted metropolis they had passed over, and felt saddened as McCoy replied, "I'm truly sorry. We know nothing of any local epidemic."
The Boqus appeared to slump, and the opaqueness in its crystal skull increased until the striations within could no longer be seen.
"Why then," it inquired with sudden brisk curiosity, "have you come here? I cannot believe it was by accident."
That Kirk could sympathize with. Boqu was not a world the casual explorer would stumble upon. "We are here at the request of an ancient race acquainted with your people," he explained, "the people of Lactra."
"Lactra, Lactra," the uncertain thought reached them. "I know them not. I am old, visitors, yet this is something well past my forming. Admitted it is that we Boqus are sadly lacking in methods of history and social record. We follow our past not as well as we ought to."
The suspicions brewing in McCoy's mind, temporarily interrupted when the Boqus had revealed himself, now surged back full strength, not to be denied.
"Jim, these bushes and trees around us—the Boqus himself—Spock's hesitation in classifying them was justified. They're not sculptured any more than you or I are sculptured." He rushed on, flushed with excitement. "We've long postulated the possibility of a living organism based on the silicon atom instead of carbon. Boqu . . . Boqu is a whole world based on that substance. A world of living crystal."
"I sense carefully concealed distaste in your mind, physician," came the thought from the creature before them. "Pity us not. It is we who have always been sorry for those we know of you. You poor carbon-based creatures, with your saggy, flexible, unrigid limbs. Your bodies lack discipline and form and true beauty.
"Even so, for all our inherent superior endurance to disease, we are not immune, it seems." The thought seemed to brighten in Kirk's mind, brighten with uncertain hope. "It is true you are a medical scientist, Bones McCoy?"
"I'm a doctor," McCoy replied readily. "My job's to make sick people unsick."
"Concise, yet thorough enough," came the response. "A great epidemic of tragic proportions has ravaged Boqu for many nevars. It is conceded among the surviving scientists that a new approach to a solution is required. We have despaired of ever finding one. Yet here you are."
"Now just a minute," began a cautious McCoy, but the Boqus rambled on.
"If you could find a cure for this devastation, you would gain the eternal gratitude of all the people of my world." Many limbs moved, indicating all directions simultaneously. "This is but one of many laboratories scattered about the surface of Boqu, isolated to protect those surviving scientists while they exhaust every means in the search for a solution. I was granted the opportunity of watching for an unlikely savior from afar. It was I who signaled you with the light, and it was you who responded. I solicit your aid."
Everyone, it seemed, needed their help, Kirk thought. McCoy returned to his protest.
"I don't know how to cure a sick rock. I don't know the first thing about silicon biology."
"No one does, Doctor," pointed out Spock, "since until this moment such a thing was not thought to exist."
"However," McCoy added reluctantly, at the overpowering sense of desolation the Boqus projected, "I'm willing to try."
"No more than that could be asked," replied the Boqus ringingly. "I am Hivar the Toq, and will aid you . . ." The thought faded, to be unexpectedly replaced by a mental frown of contrition. "But you are here for another reason, at the request of these beings you call Lactrans. I cannot interfere with prior obligations."
"I don't think it will matter," Kirk informed him. "Matter of fact, the Lactrans are here to ask for your help."
"Poor help we can give now, for anything," Hivar the Toq confessed. "Yet I would hear the circumstances."
"The Lactrans," Kirk explained, "have made much of their world over into a great zoo, a collection of diverse life forms the inspection of which provides them with knowledge and pleasure. They wish to add one last creature to this assemblage, one creature they have failed to capture over the centuries. We were told that only your people possess the means to capture such a being, which they call a jawanda."
Hivar considered for a moment, its mind intent on unscrambling this new riddle.
"The creature your friends call the jawanda troubled Boqu for many multinevars," it finally informed them. "We have not had the need to control them since then, for they have learned to avoid us. Yet I have some knowledge of the means you speak of."
Kirk glanced to Spock, then McCoy. The Lactrans had been reluctant to divulge details of the jawanda, for reasons unknown. Perhaps true ignorance was the honest one; possibly the evasion was intentional. Regardless, Hivar the Toq apparently knew of the creatures. At the moment they were in mental contact with the young Lactran, but out of immediate danger of Lactran attack. If there was a serious reason for this concealment of facts . . .
Kirk made his decision and asked hastily, "We're still not too sure what a jawanda is. If you could explain . . ."
No mental blast sent him writhing to the floor, but the Boqus didn't respond with an answer, either.
"I will bargain with you, Captain Kirk," Hivar announced, scuttling in small circles, "and with your friends of Lactra." Several crystalline tentacles pointed sharply at McCoy. "If your medical scientist Bones McCoy can discover a cure for the disease which plagues my people, then I will consult with the surviving guardians of the trust of science to see what can be done about the jawanda."
"Listen," McCoy objected, "I said I'd be willing to try. But I've no experience. Making our journey's success contingent upon my solving something which hasn't even been imagined until now just isn't fair."
"Somehow you must do more than try, medical scientist."
Kirk had the impression of a stone back being turned to them.
"Whatever you need will be provided instantly. We can expect no other visitors, for our signals have gone unheeded. Your presence is proof of that, since you are not here in response to them. We can expect no help beyond your own."
"How can you expect me, someone totally ignorant of your body chemistry, your very makeup, to succeed where your own best scientists have failed?" an exasperated McCoy wanted to know.
Hivar the Toq replied almost sullenly. "I do not know myself. I know only that a new approach offers the best remaining chance of a solution. Your very ignorance saves you from the misconceptions and false approach
es which have stifled us."
"First time anyone ever complimented me for ignorance," McCoy grumbled. "I've got to forget four thousand years of biology and start from scratch."
"Does that mean you're convinced you can't do it, Bones?" wondered a concerned Kirk.
McCoy shook his head. "No. It means I'd better get started. Let's see . . . I'm going to need Nurse Chapel, and Ensigns M'baww and Prox to help with the beginning research, certain equipment . . . and I'm sure the Lactrans will have suggestions and instruments I'll have to learn about."
Kirk was studying the equipment set in consoles and banks throughout the chamber. "There's plenty to keep the rest of us occupied in the meantime, Bones. I don't think the Boquses will object to answering a few questions."
"We do not, Captain Kirk," Hivar the Toq admitted softly, "so long as there are any of us left to answer."
VIII
With the aid of Hivar and information relayed from various centers of research on Boqu, McCoy made progress which surprised him. It took two weeks to understand what the result of the disease was.
"I know what's happening to the Boqus now, Jim," he explained, "but as to the cause, I've no more idea than they do." He gazed helplessly around the small medical lab which had been set up in the shuttlecrawler, enabling him to work outside the constraints of a life-support belt.
He gestured toward a table laden with slides and instruments. It reminded Kirk of something familiar, yet elusive. His attention was taken by McCoy.
"Something is causing an alteration in the structure of the Boqus' upper parts, changing the chemical composition in such a way that death is inevitable. Imagine the blood in your veins suddenly petrifying and you'll have some idea of what's happening to Hivar and the others.
"I've spent days hunting for a way to attack this thing and, Jim, I don't have the faintest notion of how to begin. This is as alien to my experience as we are to the Boqus."
"I have a suggestion, Doctor McCoy," came a prickling inside their heads.
"Who's that, Spock?" Kirk asked.
"One of the Boquian scientists who has traveled many nevars to reach here," the first officer explained. "It has been observing us at work and has considered the situation. Our presence—our very existence—has given it an idea it wishes to propose."
"I'm all . . . whatever it is I'm supposed to listen with," McCoy announced.
"There is no need to tense, Doctor," soothed Spock. "The idea has been communicated to me to relay to you. It is suggested that since your function is the study and treatment of carbon-based forms, you consult with one of the many on board the Enterprise who are experts in compounds of silicon."
"Spock," Kirk began, "we've already explained to them that life based on silicon instead of carbon is unknown—was unknown—to us until we came here. We have no one who—"
"Of course!" McCoy blurted unexpectedly. He ignored first Kirk's stare, then his query, as he hurried to the forward intercom. "Enterprise, Enterprise!" When no reply was immediately forthcoming, he stared angrily at the console. "Now what's the matter? Don't our maintenance techs realize that delays . . .!"
Spock quietly activated the communications unit for him and stood aside.
This time McCoy's entreaties were rewarded with a flood of static, as the communicator strove to force its way through dense atmosphere and the barrage of internal Boquian radiation.
"Enterprise, Lieutenant Uhura speaking. Is that you, Dr. McCoy?"
"Yes, Uhura. I want to speak to Lieutenant K'ang Te." He glanced at Spock as if for confirmation, and the first officer nodded readily.
Kirk searched his memory for one name out of the hundreds on board the Enterprise. K'ang Te, lieutenant; Sciences; head of the geology section.
Then he wondered why he hadn't thought of it. It had been a Boqus's turn to find a different approach . . .
With the veteran mineralogist's assistance, McCoy began to make progress—man and woman, physician and geologist, working together in search of a solution. Kirk watched them drive themselves mercilessly and wondered worriedly which they would find first—an answer, or total exhaustion.
It appeared to Kirk to be a dead heat between the two possibilities when McCoy, drawn from the work and the debilitating affect of hard labor under an extra half gravity, staggered onto the bridge a week and a day later.
"Bones, you look terrible!" Kirk exclaimed.
"I know. And I feel wonderful!"
"You—you did it, then? You actually found a solution?"
"K'ang Te and I, yes . . . At least, we think so."
Kirk looked past him. "Where is the lieutenant?"
"In Sick Bay, where I sent her." A hint of a smile graced the doctor's dry lips. "It's easy to prescribe treatment for someone when you're suffering the same symptoms." He sank gratefully into a seat vacated by Spock, too tired to counter the gesture with sarcasm—or too thankful for the small courtesy.
"I am certain the solution is as fascinating as the disease, Doctor," Spock ventured, by way of impelling McCoy to explanation.
"You don't know the tenth of it, Spock. The trouble was with their circulatory system—you ought to see it, Jim! Their blood, if we can call it that, is thicker than machine oil, and flows just fast enough to be called something better than paralyzed. In past centuries certain crucial components within the blood haven't been breaking down as they should have. Call it a buildup of impurities, if you will. The Boqus thought something in their own systems responsible for handling the breakdown of these impurities had failed, and they've been going slowly insane trying to discover it. We found it, but the real problem was finding an antidote." He shook his head slowly. "The Boqus were too close to the problem."
"As so often happens," Spock finished for him. "I am intrigued, Doctor. What kind of remedy did you discover capable of affecting the buildup of unwanted substances in the 'blood' of a silicon-based creature?"
"To begin with, Spock, I had to disregard, throw out, forget, and otherwise ignore everything I knew about serums and standard antidote chemistry. Not only did it seem unlikely I'd be able to find something the Boquian researchers had missed, but I wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to go about inoculating a rock—for all its stiffly formal mobility, I can't help thinking of Hivar and its kind in those terms. Our eventual solution came from medicine by way of physics, born out of mineralogy." He settled himself into a chair, lowering himself gently.
"According to their meteorological records, Boqu is periodically afflicted with long periods of constant storm. We nearly hit one of them on our way down—remember the tremendous lightning display?"
Both Kirk and Spock recalled that casually awesome discharge of energy clearly.
"After more experimentation and search than I care to think about, we discovered that in the case of this last series of storms, the cloud layer over most of inhabited Boqu had become so thick as to block out certain radiations from the system's feeble sun. This was accomplished by having Astrophysics prepare a complete breakdown of the radiation the sun was putting out, and comparing it with readings taken on the surface. From that point, we had to proceed with special caution. One of those screened-out wavelengths might be responsible for breaking down the unwanted substances in the Boqus' blood—but the others might prove lethal if too strong a dose was delivered."
He sighed slowly. "As it turned out, nothing of the sort happened, though that didn't keep all involved from worrying constantly about it. We tried four different radiants on several fatally ill Boqus. Two did nothing, the third made the experimental subject retch remarkably, and the fourth—the fourth had its subject on its, uh, feet in a few hours. Similar radiation treatments ought to have most of Boqu back to normal inside a month. The equipment involved is simple to reproduce. A technical team is on the surface now, helping them set up facilities for duplicating the proper projectors."
"Fascinating, Doctor," commented Spock with admiration. "I would enjoy a more detailed look into such a uniq
ue physiology."
McCoy's expression turned solemn. "That shouldn't be too hard a wish to fulfill, Spock. At present Boqu enjoys a surplus of corpses. They'd probably find the dissection of a Vulcan cadaver equally interesting."
"Undoubtedly," agreed the first officer, missing the irony of the doctor's statement completely.
Unexpectedly, McCoy grinned. He leaned his head on his left hand as he reminisced. "I don't think we'll ever see a Boqus jump. They're not constructed for leaping. But, Jim, when that last patient suddenly showed signs of recovery and we knew we'd found the answer, Hivar and the Boqus medical scientists present came as near to kicking up their heels as their bodies permit."
"How long does the treatment last?" Kirk wanted to know.
McCoy considered. "Only about one of our weeks. So until the intensity of this severe storm cycle begins to lessen, every Boqus will have to spend about fifteen minutes a week under a radiation projector in order for its blood to return to normal—like humans used to do under sun lamps."
Spock looked querulous. " 'Sun lamp,' Captain?"
"An old obsession of people in the Dark Ages, Mr. Spock. Many of them used to spend hours, even days, under the concentrated radiation of an ultraviolet generator, trying to artificially darken their skin."
The first officer's confused expression did not fade. "I see, Captain. But I was under the impression that during that period of human history the humans with light-toned skin discriminated against the darker humans."
"That's right, Spock," Kirk admitted.
Spock's puzzlement deepened. "Then why would the light-skinned humans try to burn their skin dark? This is not logical, Captain."
"Human actions of the Dark Ages rarely were, Spock. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall that certain humans of dark skin used artificial means to try to lighten their skin."
"So the light-skinned humans tried to make their skins dark, and some of the dark-skinned humans tried to make theirs light?"
"You've got it, Spock."
The first officer assumed an air of finality. "I will never understand human beings fully, Captain."
Star Trek - Log 8 Page 12
