The pressure on Star Trek’s producers was not letting up. Immediately following the mid-season pick-up, Roddenberry, Coon and Justman received word that Desilu was cutting Star Trek’s budget. The money for each episode was reduced from $193,500 to $185,000. The dark predictions made by the Old Guard to Lucille Ball about Star Trek and Mission: Impossible bankrupting Desilu were becoming a very real possibility.
With money concerns on everyone’s minds, Theodore Sturgeon’s “Shore Leave” was rushed through a series of rewrites. It was too big, too fantastic, too expensive. Harlan Ellison’s “The City on the Edge of Forever” was nearly ready... or so the Star Trek producers were told by the writer. But it too required location production, as well as specialty sets and numerous extras, and it too would clearly exceed the budget and therefore needed further rewriting.
It has been speculated over the decades in newspaper and magazine articles, books, on the internet, and at various meeting spots for the fans of Star Trek, that there were very few discards from the story and script assignments given out by Roddenberry and Coon. To the contrary, there were many.
The series’ creative team was learning that most TV writers could not handle a series as intricate as Star Trek. Most science fiction writers, with concepts too big to fit inside a small screen, were striking out too. The list of casualties, all with Star Trek money lining their pockets, was growing. Gene Roddenberry was the first name on the list.
ST-3, Roddenberry’s “The Omega Glory,” was paid for, only to be put on the shelf per the request of NBC. Stan Robertson didn’t like the script, nor did Herb Solow, nor did Roddenberry’s right-hand man, Robert Justman.
ST-10, “The Machine That Went Too Far,” the tenth Star Trek story assignment given out by Roddenberry, along with the $655 that paid for it, went to sci-fi master A.E. van Vogt. With 20 science fiction novels and seven collections of short stories, van Vogt was one of three well-known genre authors who tried in vain on many occasions to be part of Star Trek (the other two being Robert Sheckley and Philip Jose Farmer). Roddenberry wanted van Vogt badly. Like Jerry Sohl, Richard Matheson, George Clayton Johnson, Robert Bloch, Theodore Sturgeon, and Harlan Ellison, van Vogt offered instant status to a new-fangled science fiction series with a reputation yet to make. But his concepts were either too strange, too risqué, too expensive or just too unlike Star Trek to be realized. This one, about an android that attempts to take over the Enterprise, would get a makeover and be paid for again, as “Machines Are Better,” which, perhaps by coincidence, resembled certain aspects of a yet-to-come Gene Roddenberry premise for a second season entry: “I, Mudd.” Roddenberry was entitled to borrow from van Vogt -- he had paid for the privilege, twice.
ST-11, “Chicago II,” one of Roddenberry’s ideas, was the first writing assignment given to Twilight Zone veteran George Clayton Johnson. Down the road, the concept would help influence the retooling of another writer’s story and become the delightful second season entry, “A Piece of the Action.” At this point, however, it wasn’t coming together and so Roddenberry chose to kill “Chicago II” and assign Mr. Johnson to “The Man Trap” instead.
ST-15, “Alien Spirit” came from Norman Katkov, the writer of a dozen or so episodes for Wanted: Dead or Alive and a dozen or so for Ben Casey, including “A Cardinal Act of Mercy,” which was nominated for a WGA award in 1964. “Alien Spirit” was a story that hinted at a 1958 cult sci-fi monster flick called It: The Terror from Beyond Space. The movie was about an alien creature that stows away on an Earth rocket ship and begins killing the crew, one by one, chasing them from one level to the next of the cigar-shaped space vehicle. Katkov changed the rocket to the Starship Enterprise and then opted for an invisible beast, capable of trashing rooms and tossing crewmembers through the air. After getting a look at the treatment, Roddenberry and his staff deemed the story too violent, too expensive, too impossible … at least, for 1966 network TV.
ST-19 was an untitled story by Jack Guss, who had served as an associate producer and script consultant on Channing, a 1964 series about life on a college campus. Roddenberry offered “Mudd’s Women” to Guss for rewriting when Stephen Kandel became unavailable. Guss lost that assignment after voicing his uncomplimentary opinion of the story, not knowing it was Roddenberry’s brainchild. Guss was invited to come up with an idea of his own, which Roddenberry then had an uncomplimentary opinion of, and the assignment was promptly cut off, so quickly in fact that no one on the Star Trek staff other than Roddenberry recalled seeing it and no trace of it remains in the series’ show files.
ST-20, “Journey to Reolite,” by Alfred Brenner, a veteran writer of Ben Casey and numerous 1950s anthology series, had Kirk assigned the mission of transporting the uncouth leader of the planet Acrid and his entourage to their neighboring planet Reolite for peace talks. The Acrids are described as harsh and militaristic. Those of Reolite are democratic, free, humanistic, and highly civilized. The Acrid leader, Hugo, and his mistress, Galatea, have a rare “life-giving drug” to use as a peace offering to the Reolites. It also works as an aphrodisiac.
On April 18, 1966, Justman wrote to Roddenberry and Black:
Gentlemen: I find one really interesting idea in this story treatment. And that is of “The Galatea Syndrome” -- the thought of having a very beautiful, seductive, and highly unsophisticated female creature on board the Enterprise -- free to work her wiles -- a most engrossing sort of situation. Most everything else in the outline bothers me. Kirk does not act like Kirk; he is subject to sudden rages and also to weaknesses of the flesh that would panic NBC right out of its skull.
After listing everything in the story he didn’t like, Justman added: Why am I getting so emotional about this story? John D.F. Black is with us now. Let him become emotional.
John D.F. Black’s memo trailed Justman’s by two days. He said:
Personally, I’ve got nothing against sex/Born Yesterday/Pygmalion/comic books/eroticism/24 page outlines/etc. However... I hate this version of all of them.
The story assignment was cut off. Two years later, a variation of this story was resurrected by Roddenberry and used as the basis of “Elaan of Troyius.”
ST-22, “Return to Eden” by Alvin Boretz, a writer for The Defenders and WGA award nominee, was good enough to evolve from a May 9 story outline to a May 23 revised story outline. Shortly after the second draft arrived, Roddenberry told Dave Kaufman of Daily Variety, “We have a story going to a planet with automated people, where it is so perfected there is no crime, no hunger, no illness, no choice, the climate is always the same. But the people are like zombies, it’s a computerized society. They find what is Utopia for such a society is sterile.” (145-15)
In a memo to Robert Justman, Roddenberry described the premise as:
[A] shore leave story in which the accumulated boredoms, fatigues, dissentions, male needs, etc., come to a head with our continuing characters... The shore leave planet will have something of a Shangri-La aspect with many temptations... “Eden” is a trap, a sort of death. When mankind, or a particular man stops growing, he begins dying.
Robert Justman, in a May 9 memo, said, “I detect a complete absence of action in this story.” John D.F. Black called it “the Boretz version of Hilton’s Lost Horizon.” He was bothered by more than a lack of action, and told Roddenberry, “I think the Boretz piece is awful.” And that ended that.
ST-25, “Rites to Fertility,” was from Robert Sheckley, known for dozens of science fiction short stories and, at this time, three novels. His idea placed a crewman in an airlock where a portal closes on his hand, tearing his environmental suit and cutting his skin. McCoy, during an examination, observes that the crewman’s skin “has hardened to a coarse, brown texture; the fingers are rigid, almost twig-like; each nail has turned into a soft, green leaf.” In other words, the poor man had begun a metamorphosis into a vegetable. Worse, what is happening to him happens to others and the Enterprise becomes a plague ship filled with walking, talking foliage. Spo
ck, who appears to be immune, beams down to a nearby planet in search of answers and, hopefully, a cure. Once there, he encounters a primitive Indian-like race that worships the trees and longs for the day when they can become one with their gods and to root among the forest. They are reluctant to share information as to how the crew can counteract the changing of flesh to soft wood until Spock explains to them, “Earth people do not consider turning into a plant to be an acceptable form of immortality.”
On May 11, Justman wrote to Black:
The amount of sets, type of sets, cost of construction of such sets, construction of special effects and movable creatures, and physical special effects concerned with the operation of these elements, pretty well puts this story, as it stands right now, completely out of reach for us.... We also cannot have Bob Justman having a nervous breakdown. My doctor tells me that we cannot afford to make this show.
Justman’s doctor was right and Sheckley was asked to come up with something else.
ST-27, “Sisters in Space,” was a second chance for Sheckley. In his June 14 outline, the Enterprise encounters the hulk of its sister ship, the S.S. Saratoga, missing for five years. Kirk, Scotty, Sulu, Rand, and a pair of crewmen beam over to the derelict ship. There, they discover cage compartments in the lower hold where the crew had kept living specimens collected from various alien planets. They also discover that the cages have been torn open, “steel twisted like putty, steel bulkheads ripped the way a baling hook would bite through plywood.” It becomes clear that something was taken onboard, turned on the crew and proved impossible to control. The damage it wrought is horrifying and then one of the Enterprise men (a non-regular) is heard screaming. When the rest of the boarding party reach him, he is dead, having been ripped limb from limb. In addition to its enormous strength, the creature is a sort of chameleon. It can change color, blending in with backgrounds. Sheckley wrote, “Now, as chips of metal fly across the room like shrapnel, the creature clawing its way out of the cage, it suddenly becomes visible.” Then Robert Justman had a near-heart attack.
John D.F. Black spoke for Justman, writing to Roddenberry, “Too expensive,” then adding:
As a premise, the lost and drifting Enterprise-class space vessel holds promise --when it has a monster aboard.… The question is, is Sheckley the writer to do it? From this version of this yarn, the question is a genuine question... I’m not sure at all.
The story also resembled Norman Katkov’s “Alien Spirit.” And, like “Spirit,” it too was cut off.
ST-28, “Portrait in Black and White,” one of Roddenberry’s story concepts from the Star Trek series proposal, was given to Barry Trivers for devolvement. Roddenberry had promised Trivers another assignment in exchange for a fourth rewrite of his script for “The Conscience of the King.” This was it.
“Portrait of Black and White” was a parallel world story, this one resembling the “Ole Plantation Days” of the South but turned upside down with white savages shipped and auctioned at slave marts run by blacks.
Robert Justman cringed when he saw Barry Trivers’ story outline. On August 15, he wrote to Gene Coon:
Since Gene Roddenberry assigned it, I assume that this story is what he was after.... Personally speaking, I am not sure about this property. There is more here than meets the eye. Allegories are fine and the allegoric cause as depicted in this show is naturally very close to many people’s hearts. Certainly it is to mine. However, I wonder if we aren’t starting to lose sight of the fact that we are supposedly making an “entertainment” show.
On August 23, after a retooled outline arrived, Justman spoke again, this time writing directly to Roddenberry, saying:
We have several problems in this proposed outline... [including] a reference to sending a young girl to a “breeding farm” -- which I think NBC would strike immediately – [and] quite a lot of bloodshed indicated. We may have a lot of beautiful words and philosophies here [but] can we afford to spend pages on preaching?... Isn’t a Negro Lincoln really a bit much?... I would suggest that this present draft be submitted to NBC immediately, prior to ordering a script. I am afraid that this allegorical treatment will get resentment from all sides if it is ever shown on the air.... Secondly, again, we have a parallel world situation. I am afraid that someday the audience might get tired of seeing the same old ploy used again.... Thirdly, this show in its present form would be enormously expensive to handle.
But Roddenberry liked these Jonathan Swift-type parallel world stories. He had his heart set on “Black and White.” He was also irked over NBC, Desilu, and his staff not rallying behind another of his parallel world situations – “The Omega Glory” -- and so, on August 24, he spanked Justman with a deliberate “cc” to Coon, writing:
Agreed that aspects of this tale, if improperly handled, could bring the white and the black power advocates down on us with a vengeance.... On the other hand, we could be in trouble with someone on any dynamic theme, i.e., union labors, peace-war, utopia-individuality, etc. This theme, if handled intelligently, and it is our duty as producers to see that it is handled intelligently, can be highly provocative, entertaining, and a revealing exercise in dramatic truths, making points via its “sf” approach that never could be made in a non-sf approach.... I can give you 37 reasons why every story we have ever received started out as illogical, tasteless, too expensive, etc.... Half of the job is, of course, in pointing out the above. The other half is in seeking replacements for these points, things we can do and should do to make it into the kind of script we will all be proud of.
In case Coon didn’t get the point, Roddenberry fired off an August 24 memo to him too, writing:
Trivers is showing in this story outline opportunities for surprise, suspense, action, and physical jeopardy. With a little reworking, a little straightening out, and a little attention to milking the delightful and unusual parallels out of it, we should have an excellent script.
Two days later Stan Robertson spoke for the network. The rejection was short and not sweet. “We believe that this story does not fit into the Star Trek concept.” Period.
Roddenberry had fought NBC before over his right as a writer/producer to do a program about the very black and white issue of racial prejudice. That episode of The Lieutenant had resulted in the end of the series. But Roddenberry remained undaunted and, on September 1, he wrote Barry Trivers:
There are political and moral attitudes in this story that only rarely have writers been able to attempt in television. Networks have either killed such stories or masqueraded them behind the Indian/Cowboy conflict. We are delighted that Star Trek will have the chance to go in, without the kiss of death, or the masquerade, and raise the points with honesty and dramatic impact. But let’s make sure we don’t panic NBC. Barry, we want to do this show.... What we want to emphasize is not the political conflict, but the melodrama of Kirk captured... thrown into physical jeopardy... emotionally moved to act and react... the advancing armies... the strangeness of Kirk being considered and treated like an inferior, etc.
Trivers wrote his script. Of the first draft on September 28, Gene Coon received memos from Steven Carabatsos and, indications are, Dorothy Fontana in an unofficial capacity. In part, their combined feedback stated:
All the dialogue is dreadful. None of our characters are in character. Kirk does absolutely nothing... nor does Spock. Action is pretty nil... what there is, is poorly conceived and possibly in violation of NBC Broadcast Standards code (i.e. shooting of women and children). Much of the script is (a) dull, (b) platitudinous, (c) preachy and/or (d) offensive....
This is a delicate and highly touchy subject with them... especially with Stan. Jean Messerschmidt has already requested that I send her two copies of the first draft, rather than her usual one, because higher authorities in NBC will be reading it....
I am really upset by this one as it stands, and I can hardly wait to see what Robert J. has to say when he reads it, if he can speak at all, that is, since this subject is also a se
nsitive area with him.
Justman had plenty to say later that day, writing Coon:
This piece will have to be totally overhauled... restructured, rewritten. You know what we had to go through the last time on a piece Barry wrote [“The Conscience of the King”]. With this one, I strongly feel you will have to completely redo the final draft that Barry turns in if you are to have any chance at all of getting NBC to even consider it.... Dialogue is “unspeakable.” Mostly I strongly object to the Negro masters and the slaves using minstrel show accents and pronunciations. A Southern accent might be all right, but I think we should go for as straight a speech patterns as we can get so as not to insult the intelligence of our actors and our audience -- or Stan Roberstson.
Coon worked with the script, as did Roddenberry, but neither ever won support from NBC over the controversial material. If Roddenberry had proceeded to produce “Portrait in Black and White,” it would never have been aired. Both he and Coon had ignored the most important rule of the Jonathan Swift technique to making commentary on current political and social stigmas -- disguise it enough to get past the censors.
ST-29, “Rock-A-Bye Baby, and Die,” with story outline from August 2, 1966, was George Clayton Johnson’s third Star Trek assignment (following “Chicago II” and “The Man Trap”). Roddenberry was intrigued by Johnson’s pitch and even contributed story points to the idea of the Enterprise being infused with an entity that is an alien child. Johnson’s treatment displayed a rare talent for telling unusual stories, sadly to be soon lost to Star Trek.
Johnson wrote:
The ship in space, hurtling toward Minerva – a planet: To pick up two ruthless criminals. They have been judged criminally deranged and must be taken to a hospital planet. Several persons have been badly wounded apprehending the two and a starship doctor is needed.
Abruptly, a glowing speck on the view screens, swift, radiant, headed toward the ship on a collision course. Evasive action. The speck follows. Pressor beams. Phaser weapons. All fail to destroy the tiny hunk of matter. All hands brace for impact. The ship rocks savagely as the tiny sock of matter hits it. Close on the communications console: a switch flips up on its own accord. All hands react to a strange sound that reverberates throughout the ship. The sound of a baby squalling!
These Are The Voyages, TOS, Season One Page 67
