Star Trek 05

by James Blish

  "Several very large cities. All uninhabited. Extensive traffic systems barren of traffic. Vegetation and lower animals encroaching on the cities. No sapient life forms registering at all, Captain."

  "You mean the people are all dead?"

  "Yes, Captain—all dead. This was what I had deduced when I suggested this course. They have annihilated each other—totally."

  "My people," Bele said. "All dead."

  "Yes, Commissioner," Spock said. "All of them."

  "And—mine?" Lokai said.

  "No one is left. No one."

  The two survivors faced each other with ready rage.

  "Your bands of murderers . . ."

  "Your genocidal maniacs . . ."

  "Gentlemen!" Kirk said in his command voice. Then, more softly, "The cause you fought for no longer exists. Give up your hate, and we welcome you to live with us."

  Neither seemed to hear him; the exchange of glares went on.

  "You have lost, Bele. I have won."

  "You always think you win when you destroy."

  "What's the matter with you two?" Kirk demanded, his own temper at last beginning to fray. "Didn't you hear my First Officer? Your planet is dead. Nobody is alive on Cheron just because of this land of hate! Give it up, in heaven's name!"

  "You have lost the planet," Lokai said. "I have won. I have won because I am free."

  Suddenly, he made a tremendous leap for the elevator. The doors opened for him, and then, with a wild laugh, he was gone. Bele made as if to rush after him; Kirk stopped him.

  "Bele—listen! The chase is finished."

  "No, no! He must not escape me!"

  "Where can he go?" Spock said.

  "I think I know the answer to that," Uhura said. "Someone has just activated the Transporter."

  "Oh," Kirk said. "Are we in Transporter range of Cheron?"

  "Just coming into it," Spock said. "And a sentient life form is beginning to come through on the planet."

  "It is he!" Bele cried. "Now I'll get him!"

  He sprang for the elevator in turn. The guards, now belatedly alert, moved to stop him, but Kirk held up his hands.

  "Let him go. Bele, there's no one there to punish him. His judges are dead."

  "I," Bele said, "am his punisher." Then he too was gone.

  There was a brief silence. Then Uhura said, "Captain, the Transporter has been activated again."

  "Of course," Kirk said wearily. He felt utterly washed out. "Is he showing up on Cheron on the scanners now, Mr. Spock?"

  "Some second sapient life form is registering. I see no other possible conclusion."

  "But," Uhura said, "it doesn't make any sense."

  "To expect sense from two mentalities of such extreme viewpoints is not logical," Spock said. "They are playing out the drama of which they have become the captives, just as their compatriots did."

  "But their people are dead," Sulu said slowly. "How can it matter to them now which one is right?"

  "It does to them," said Spock. "And at the same time, in a sense it does not. A thousand years of hating and running have become all of life."

  "Spock," said McCoy's voice behind them, "may I remind you that I'm supposed to be the psychologist aboard this ship?"

  "Spock's human half," Kirk said, turning, "is perhaps better equipped to perceive half measures taking over the whole man than the rest of us, Bones. And his Vulcan side quite accurately predicted the outcome. Hate wasn't all Lokai and Bele had at first, but by allowing it to run them, that's all they ended up with. This is their last battlefield—and let us hope that we never see its like again. Mr. Sulu, Warp Two for Starbase 4."

  THIS SIDE OF PARADISE

  (Nathan Butler and D. C. Fontana)

  * * *

  There was no answer from the Sandoval colony on Omicron Ceti III to the Enterprise's signals, but that was hardly surprising; the colonists, all one hundred and fifty of them, had probably been dead for the better part of three years, as two previous colonies had died, for reasons then mysterious. Elias Sandoval had known this past history and had determined to settle on the planet anyhow; it was in all other respects a tempting place.

  It was not until after his group had settled in—and had stopped communicating—that the Berthold emission of the planet's sun had been discovered. Little enough was known about Berthold radiation even now, but it had been shown that direct exposure to it under laboratory conditions distintegrated living animal tissue in as little as seventy-two hours. A planet's atmosphere would cut down some of the effect, to the point where a week's exposure might be safe, but certainly not three years. And there was no preventive, and no cure.

  The settlement proper, however, was still there and was easy to spot. Kirk made up a landing party of six, including himself, Spock, McCoy, Lieutenant Timothy Fletcher (a biologist), Sulu and a crewman named Dimont. The settlement proved to consist of a surprisingly small cluster of buildings, with fields beyond it. Kirk looked around.

  "It took these people a year to make the trip from Earth," he said. "They came all that way—and died."

  "Hardly that, sir," said a man's voice. The party snapped around toward it.

  A big, bluff, genial-looking man clad in sturdy work clothes had come around a corner of a building, with two others behind him, similarly dressed and carrying tools. The first man came forward, holding out his hand.

  "Welcome to Omicron Ceti III," he said. "I am Elias Sandoval."

  Kirk took the hand, but could think of nothing to say but a mumble of thanks.

  "We've seen no one outside our group since we left Earth four years ago," the man went on. "We've expected someone for quite some time. Our subspace radio has never worked properly and we, I'm afraid, had no one among us who could master its intricacies. But we were sure when we were not heard from, a ship would come."

  "Actually, Mr. Sandoval, we didn't come because of your radio silence . . ."

  "It makes little difference, Captain. You are here, and we are happy to have you. Come, let me show you our settlement."

  He began to walk away, not bothering to look back, as if certain that they would follow. The other colonists had already left.

  "On pure speculation," McCoy said drily, "just as an educated guess, I'd say that man isn't dead."

  Spock checked his tricorder. "The intensity of Berthold radiation is at the predicted level. At this intensity, we will be safe for a week, if necessary. But . . ."

  "But these people shouldn't be alive," Kirk said. "Well, there's no point in debating it in a vacuum. Let's get some answers."

  He started after Sandoval. From closer range, the buildings could be seen to be not deserted, only quiet. Nearby, a woman was hanging out some wash; in another structure, a woman placed a fresh-baked pie in a window to cool. It might have been a tranquil Earthly farm community of centuries ago, except for a scattering of peculiar plants with bulbous pods, apparently indigenous, which revealed that it was on another planet.

  Sandoval led the landing party into his own quarters. "There are two other settlements," he said, "but we have forty-five colonists here."

  "What was the reason for the dispersal?" Kirk asked.

  "We felt three separate groups might have a better opportunity for growth. And, if some disease should strike one group, the other two would be less likely to be endangered. Omicron is an ideal agricultural planet, Captain, and we determined that we would not suffer the fate of expeditions that had gone before us."

  A woman came from an inner door and stopped, seeing the strangers. She looked Eurasian, and was strikingly beautiful.

  "Ah, Leila," Sandoval said, turning to her. "Come and meet our guests. This is Leila Kalomi, our botanist. Captain Kirk, Dr. McCoy, Mr. Spock . . ."

  "Mr. Spock and I have met," she said, holding out a hand to him. "It has been a long time."

  He took the hand gently but awkwardly. "The years have seemed twice as long," he said.

  She bowed her head, silently accepting the com
pliment. Then she looked up, as if searching his face for something more; but there was nothing but his usual calm. He released her hand slowly.

  "Mr. Sandoval," Kirk said, "we do have a mission here. A number of examinations, tests . . ."

  "By all means, please attend to them, Captain. I think you'll find our settlement interesting. Our philosophy is a simple one: that men should return to the less complicated life. We have very few mechanical things here—no vehicles, no weapons—" He smiled. "As I said, even the radio has never worked properly. We have harmony here—complete peace."

  "We'll try not to disturb your work. Gentlemen, if you'll come outside now . . ."

  On the porch, he flipped open his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."

  "Enterprise. Lieutenant Uhura here."

  "Lieutenant, we've found the colony apparently well and healthy. We're beginning an investigation. Relay that information to Starfleet, and then beam down to me all the information we have on this last Omicron expedition."

  "Yes, sir. Enterprise out."

  "Gentlemen, carry out your previous instructions. If you find anything out of the ordinary, report to me at once."

  The party scattered.

  Dimont was the first to find the next anomaly. He had been raised in the farm country of the Mojave, and was leading cows to pasture when he was six, up at dawn and then working all day in the fields. It was his opinion, expressed to Sulu, that "they could use a little of that spirit here."

  But there was no place for it. There were no cows here; the one barn hadn't even been built for them, but only for storage. Nor were there any horses, pigs, even dogs. A broader check disclosed that the same was true of the whole planet: there was nothing on it but people and vegetation. The records showed that the expedition had carried some animals for breeding and food, but none seemed to have survived. Well, that was perhaps not an anomaly in the true sense, for they couldn't have survived. In theory, neither could the people.

  But they had. "I've examined nine men so far," McCoy reported, "ages varying from twenty-three to fifty-nine. Every one of them is in perfect physical shape—textbook responses. If everybody was like them, I could throw away my shingle. But there's something even stranger."

  "What is it?" Kirk asked.

  "I've got Sandoval's medical record as of four years ago when he left Earth. There was scar tissue on his lungs from lobar penumonia suffered when he was a child. No major operations, but he did have an appendectomy. But when I examined the man not an hour ago, he was as perfect as the rest of them."

  "Instrument malfunction?"

  "No. I thought of that and tested it on myself. It accurately recorded my lack of tonsils and those two broken ribs I had once. But it didn't record any scar tissue on Sandoval's lungs—and it did record a healthy appendix where one was supposedly removed."

  Fletcher's report also turned up an anomaly. "The soil here is rich, the rainfall moderate, the climate temperate the year round. You could grow anything here, and they've got a variety of crops in—grains, potatoes, beans. But for an agricultural colony they actually have very little acreage planted. There's enough to sustain the colony, but very little more. And another thing, they're not bothering to rotate crops in their fields—haven't for three years. That's poor practice for a group like this, even if the soil is good."

  It was like a jigsaw puzzle all one color—a lot of pieces but no key to where they fitted.

  Then came the order to evacuate, direct from Admiral Komack of Starfleet. Despite the apparent well-being of the colonists, they were to be moved immediately to Starbase 27, where arrangements were being made for complete examinations of all of them. Exposed Starship personnel were also to be held in quarantine until cleared at the Starbase. Apparently somebody up the line thought radiation disease was infectious. Well, with Berthold rays, anything seemed to be possible, as McCoy observed wrily.

  "You'll have to inform your people of Starfleet's decision," Kirk told Sandoval. "Meanwhile we can begin to prepare accommodations for them aboard ship . . ."

  "No," said Sandoval pleasantly.

  "Mr. Sandoval, this is not an arbitrary decision on my part. It is a Starfleet order."

  "This is completely unnecessary. We are in no danger here."

  "We've explained the Berthold radiation and its effect," McCoy said. "Can't you understand . . ."

  "How can I make you understand, Doctor? Your own instruments tell you we are in excellent health, and our records show we have not had one death among us."

  "What about the animals?" Kirk said.

  "We are vegetarians."

  "That doesn't answer my question. Why did all the animals die?"

  "Captain, you stress unimportant things," Sandoval said, as calmly as before. "We will not leave. Your arguments have some validity, but they do not apply to us."

  "Sandoval, I've been ordered to evacuate this colony, and that's exactly what I intend to do, with or without your help."

  "And how will you do that?" Sandoval said, turning away. "With a butterfly net?"

  It was Spock who was finally given the key. He was standing with Leila looking out over a small garden, checking his tricorder.

  "Nothing," he said, "not even insects. Yet your plants grow, and you have survived exposure to Berthold radiation."

  "It can be explained," Leila said.

  "Please do."

  "Later."

  "I have never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer on any subject."

  She put a hand on his arm. "And I never understood you, until now." She tapped his chest. "There was always a place in here where no one could come. There was only the face you allow people to see. Only one side you allow them to know."

  "I would like to know how your people have managed to survive here."

  "I missed you."

  "You should be dead."

  She took her hand from his arm and stepped back. "If I show you how we survived, will you try to understand how we feel about our life here? About each other?"

  "Emotions are alien to me . . ."

  "No. Someone else might believe that—your shipmates, your Captain. But not me. Come this way."

  She led him to an open field, uncultivated, with pod plants growing amid grass and low brush. They rustled gently in a little breeze.

  "This is the place," she said.

  "It looks like any other such area. What is the nature of this thing, if you please?"

  "The specific elements and properties are not important. What is important is that it gives life—peace—love."

  "What you describe was once called in the vernacular 'a happiness pill.' And you, as a scientist, should know that is impossible."

  "No. And I was one of the first to find them."

  "Them?"

  "The spores." She pointed to the pod plants.

  Spock bent to examine them. At the same moment, one of the pods flew apart, like a powdery dandelion broken by the wind. Spock dropped his tricorder to shield his face as the powder flew up about him. Then he screamed.

  Leila, frightened, moved forward a step, reaching out a hand to him.

  "I—can't," he moaned, almost inaudibly. "Please—don't—don't . . ."

  "It shouldn't hurt, not like this! It didn't hurt us!"

  "I'm not—like you."

  Then, slowly, his face began to change, becoming less rigid, more at peace. Seeing the change, Leila reached up to touch his cheek with gentle fingers. He reached out to gather her into his arms, very gently, as though afraid this woman and this feeling were so fragile that he might break them.

  After the lass, she sat down, and he lay down beside her, his head in her lap. "See the clouds," he said after a while. "That one looks like a dragon—you see the tail and the dorsal spines?"

  "I have never seen a dragon."

  "I have, on Berengaria VII. But I never saw one in a cloud before." His communicator abruptly shrilled, but he ignored it. "Or rainbows. Do you know I can tell you exac
tly why one appears in the sky—but considering its beauty was always out of the question."

  "Not here," Leila said. The communicator shrilled again, insistently. "Perhaps you should answer?"

  "It will only be the Captain."

  But finally he lifted the communicator and snapped up the screen. Kirk's anxious voice sounded instantly. "Mr. Spock!"

  "What do you want?" Spock asked lazily.

  "Spock, is that you?"

  "Yes, Captain. What do you want?"

  "Where are you?"

  Spock considered the question calmly. "I don't believe I want to tell you."

  "Spock, I don't know what you think you're doing, but this is an order. Report back to me at the settlement in ten minutes. We're evacuating the colony to Starbase 27 . . ."

  "No, I don't think so."

  "You don't think so what?"

  "I don't think so, sir."

  "Spock, report to the settlement immediately. Acknowledge. Spock!"

  The First Officer tossed the communicator away among the plants.

  It seemed to be their fruiting time; they were bursting all over the area now. Fletcher was caught next, then McCoy, then Sulu and Dimont—and finally Kirk himself.

  But Kirk alone was unaffected. As peace and love and tranquillity settled around him like a soggy blanket, he was blazing. His temper was not improved by the discovery that McCoy was arranging for transportation to the ship not of colonists or their effects, but of pod plants. Evidently a couple of hundred were already aboard. Hotter than ever, Kirk ordered himself to be beamed aboard.

  He found the bridge deserted except for Uhura, who was busy at her communications board. All other instruments were on automatic.

  "Lieutenant, put me through to Admiral Komack at Starfleet."

  As she turned from the board, Kirk was shocked to see that she, too, wore the same sweet, placid expression as the others. She said, "Oh—I'm afraid I can't do that, Captain."

  "I don't suppose," Kirk said tightly, "it would do any good to say that was an order."

  "I know it was, Captain. But all communications are out."

  "All?" Kirk reached past her and began to flick switches on the board.