by James Blish
Spock was silent.
"I wish he could forget her." Still silence. "Good night, Spock."
"Good night, Doctor."
Spock regarded Kirk for another silent moment, and then moved deliberately to lock the door behind McCoy, Then he returned to Kirk. His hands floated to Kirk's dropped head, fingertips touching. He said, very gently, "Forget . . ."
THE WAY TO EDEN
(Arthur Heinemann and Michael Richards)
* * *
Under Federation orders to observe extreme delicacy, the Enterprise had beamed aboard the six people who had stolen the cruiser Aurora. The son of the Catullan Ambassador was one of them, and treaty negotiations between the Federation and the Ambassador were at a crucial phase. Clearly, none of the six had known much about operating a cruiser; in the attempt to escape, they had managed to destroy the cruiser, and had only been rescued by Scott's pinpoint skill with the Transporter.
"Scotty, are they aboard?" Kirk asked his control chair intercom.
"Aye, Captain, they are. And a nice lot, too."
"Escort them to the briefing room for interview."
There were other voices in the background, rising in an increasing hubbub. Suddenly a woman's voice became clearly audible above the others. "Why should we?"
At that, Chekov's head jerked up sharply, his expression one of recognition struggling with incredulity. Then a man's voice said, "Tell Herbert it's no go."
All the voices chimed in with a ragged chant: "No go no go no go no go . . ."
"What's going on?" Kirk asked.
"They refuse, sir," Scott called over the chant.
"Why?"
"I don't know. They're just sitting on the floor, the lot of them. You can hear them yourself. Shall I send for Security?"
"No, I'll come down. Sulu, take the con."
He and Spock could hear the chanting continuing long before he reached the Transporter Room. The six were, indeed, "a nice lot." One wore a simple robe, the others were nearly naked or in primitive costumes, with flowers worn as ornaments and painted on their bodies. There were three girls and three men, all but the one in the robe in their early twenties. They were squatting on the floor with a clutter of musical instruments around them.
"We are not in the mood, Herbert," one of the girls said; it was the same voice he had heard before. The others resumed the "No go" chant.
"Which one of you is Tongo Rad?" Kirk shouted.
The chant died down raggedly, and the newcomers looked curiously from Kirk to one of their number, a handsome humanoid who despite his costume had that intangible air which often goes with wealth and privilege. He got up and lunged forward, not answering, not quite insolent.
"You can thank your father's influence for the fact that you're not under arrest," Kirk snapped. "In addition to piracy, you're open to charges of violating flight regulations, entering hostile space and endangering the lives of others as well as your own."
"Hostile space?" Rad said.
"You were in Romulan territory when we yanked you out."
"Oh," said Rad. "I'm bleeding."
"On top of which you've caused an interstellar incident that could destroy everything that has been negotiated between your planet and the Federation."
"You got a hard lip, Herbert."
"If you have an explanation, I'm prepared to hear it."
Rad looked down at the older man in the robe, but there was no response. Rad sat down with the others and folded his arms.
Kirk turned to Spock. "Take them to sickbay for medical check. There may be radiation injury from the Aurora explosion."
The "No go" chant started up again immediately. Kirk started to shout, but Spock intervened.
"With your permission, Captain." He put his hands together, index finger to index finger, thumb to thumb, forming an egg shape. "One."
The group seemed to be surprised. The man in the robe rose. "We are one."
"One is the beginning," Spock said.
One of the boys, a rather puckish youth, said, "You One, Herbert?"
"I am not Herbert."
"He's not Herbert. We reach."
Kirk was wholly bewildered. Evidently all this meant something, however, and had almost miraculously achieved calm and accord.
"Sir," Spock said to the older man, "if you will state your purpose and objectives, perhaps we can arrive at mutual understanding.
"If you understand One, you know our purpose."
"I should prefer that you state it."
The older man smiled faintly. "We turn our backs on confusion and seek the beginning."
"Your destination?"
"The planet Eden."
"Ridiculous," Kirk said. That planet's a myth."
Still smiling, the older man said, "And we protest against being harassed, pursued, attacked, seized, and Transported here against our wishes and against human law."
"Right, brother," said the puckish youth.
"We do not recognize Federation regulations nor the existence of hostilities. We recognize no authority but that within ourselves."
"Whether you recognize authority or not, I am it on this ship," Kirk said, restraining himself with difficulty. "I am under orders to take you back to Starbase peaceably. From there you will be ferried back to your various planets. Because of my orders you are not prisoners, but my guests. I expect you to behave as such."
"Oh, Herbert," said the puckish youth, "you are stiff."
"Mr. Spock, since you seem to understand these people, you will deal with them."
"We respectfully request that you take us to Eden," the robed man said. Despite the politeness of the words, and the softness of his voice, his insolence was obvious.
Kirk ignored him. "When they're finished in sickbay, see that they are escorted to the proper quarters and given whatever care they need."
"Yes, Captain."
"We respectfully request that you take us to Eden."
"I have orders to the contrary. And this is not a passenger ship."
"Herbert," said the girl who had first spoken. The others picked it up and another ragged chant followed Kirk as he went out: "Herbert Herbert Herbert Herbert . . ."
He was in a simmering rage by the time he returned to the bridge. Taking his seat, he said, "Lieutenant Uhura. Alert Starbase we have aboard the six who took the space cruiser Aurora. And that the cruiser itself was regrettably destroyed."
"Aye, sir."
"Personal note to the Catullan Ambassador. His son is safe."
"Captain, sir," Chekov said hesitantly. "I believe I know one of them. At least I think I recognized her voice. Her name is Irina Galliulin. We were in Starfleet Academy together."
"One of those went to the Academy?" Kirk said incredulously.
"Yes, sir. She dropped out. She—" Chekov stopped. Under his accent and his stiffness, it was apparent that he still felt a painful emotion about this girl.
Kirk looked away as Spock entered, and then back to Chekov. "Do you wish to see her? Permission granted to leave your post."
"Thank you, sir." He got up fast and left; another crewman took his post.
Kirk turned to Spock. "Are they in sickbay?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Do they seriously believe that Eden exists?"
"Many myths are founded on some truth, Captain. And they are not unintelligent. Dr. Sevrin . . ."
"Their leader? The man in the robe?"
Spock nodded. "Dr. Sevrin was a brilliant research engineer in acoustics, communications and electronics on Tiburon. When he started the movement, he was dismissed from his post. Young Rad inherits his father's extraordinary abilities in the field of space studies."
"But they reject that—everything this technology provides—and look for the primitive."
"There are many who are uncomfortable with what we have created," Spock said. "It is almost a biological rebellion. A profound revulsion against the planned communities, the programming, the sterilized, artfully balanced atmosph
eres. They hunger for an Eden, where Spring comes."
"We all do, sometimes," Kirk said thoughtfully. "The cave is deep in our ancestral memories."
"Yes, sir."
"But we don't steal cruisers and act like irresponsible children. What makes you so sympathetic toward them?"
"It is not so much sympathy as curiosity, Captain. A wish to understand. And they regard themselves as aliens in their worlds. It is a feeling I am familiar with."
"Hmm. What does Herbert mean?"
"It is somewhat uncomplimentary, sir. Herbert was a minor official notorious for his rigid and limited pattern of thought."
"I get the point," Kirk said drily. "I shall endeavor to be less limited in my thinking. But they make it difficult"
There were only five of the six in the examining room when Chekov came in. Four were sprawled about listening to the puckish youth, who was tuning something that looked like a zither. Apparently satisfied, he bit a progression of chords and began to sing softly.*
*I much regret that I cannot reproduce the music which went with this script; it was of very high quality. The script I have does not name the composer.—J. B.
Looking for the new land—
Losing my way—
Looking for the good land—
Going astray—
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Oh I can't have honey and I can't have cream
But the dream that's in me, it isn't a dream.
It'll live, not die.
It'll live, not die.
I'll stand in the middle of it all one day,
I'll look at it shining all around me and say
I'm here!
I'm here!
In the new land,
In the good land,
I'm here!
"Great, Adam," one of the others said. There was a murmur of applause.
Chekov cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Is Irina Galliulin with you?"
"Getting her physical," Adam said. He hit a chord and sang:
I'll crack my knuckles and jump for joy—
Got a clean bill of health from Dr. McCoy.
"You know Irina?" someone else said. Chekov nodded.
"Say, tell me," said Tongo Rad. "Why do you people wear all those clothes? How do you breathe?"
Nurse Chapel came out of the sickbay with two medics. She looked over the group and pointed to Sevrin, "You're next."
Sevrin sprawled, oblivious. Chapel nodded to the two medics, who stepped forward and, picking up the limp form, dragged it into sickbay. A moment later, Irina came out.
"Irina," Chekov said.
She did not seem to be surprised. She smiled, her strange, habitual smile, which rarely left her—but there was watchfulness behind it.
"Pavel Andreievich," she said calmly. "I had thought we might encounter each other."
"You knew I was on the Enterprise?"
"I had heard."
"Irina—why—" He stopped, all eyes upon him. "Come."
He led her out into the corridor, which was empty. He stared at her for a moment, taking in the bizarre, brief costume, the long hair, the not-quite-untidiness. When he spoke, it was almost with rage.
"How could you do this to yourself? You were a scientist. You were a—a decent human being. And now look at you!"
"Look at yourself, Pavel," she said calmly.
"Why did you do it?"
"Why did you?"
"I am proud of what I am. I believe in what I do. Can you say that?"
"Yes." Momentarily her voice was sharp; then the smile returned. Chekov took her arm and they walked toward the lounge. "We should not tear at each other so. We should meet again in joy. Today, when I first knew it was your ship that followed us, I thought of you, I wondered what I would find in you. And I remembered so much. In spite of that uniform, I still see the Pavel I used to know. Are you happy in what you do?"
"Yes."
"Then I accept what you do."
"You even talk like them."
Yeomen passed them, turning to look at the odd couple. Chekov led Irina into the lounge. "Why did you go away?" he asked.
"It was you who went."
"I came back to look for you. I looked. I looked. Where did you go?"
"I stayed in the city. With friends."
"You never felt as I did. Never."
"I did."
"You don't have it in you to feel so much. Even when we were close you weren't with me. You were off thinking of something else." She shook her head, the smile still there. "Then why did you stay away?"
"Because you disapproved of me. Just as you do now. Oh, Pavel, you have always been like this. So correct. And inside, the struggle not to be. Give in to yourself. You will be happier. You'll see."
"Go to your friends," Chekov said grayly.
After a moment she left, still with that maddening smile. There seemed to be another hubbub starting in the corridor. Chekov went after her, quickly.
The noise was coming from outside sickbay, where there was something very like a melee going on. The group from the Aurora was trying to get in, over the opposition of Nurse Chapel and two security guards. The group was shouting noisily, angrily, demanding entrance, demanding to see Sevrin.
Kirk came out of the elevator and forced his way through the crowd, not without a what-the-hell glance toward Chekov.
"Herbert Herbert Herbert Herbert Herbert . . ."
The sickbay doors shut automatically behind Kirk and Nurse Chapel, mercifully deadening the sound. "I thought all those animals were in their cages," she said.
Sevrin was sitting on a bed, defiant, the two medics standing ready to grab him. McCoy was finishing what had evidently been a strenuous examination.
"What's going on, Bones?"
"Trouble. Your friend here didn't want a checkup. Turns out there was a reason."
"I refuse to accept your findings," Sevrin said.
"You don't have the choice."
"They are the product of prejudice, not science."
"I don't know what this man was planning to do on a primitive planet," McCoy continued. "Assuming it existed. But I can tell you what would happen if he'd settled there. Within a month there wouldn't be enough of those primitives left to bury their dead."
"Fantasy," Sevrin said. "Fantasy."
"I wish it were. There's a nasty little bug evolved in the last few years, Jim. Our aseptic, sterilized civilizations produced it. Synthococcus novae. It's deadly. We can immunize against it but we haven't licked all its problems yet"
"Does he have it?" Kirk asked. "What about the others?"
"The others are clear. And he doesn't have it. He's a carrier. Remember your ancient history? Typhoid Mary? He's immune to it, as she was. But he carries the disease, spreads it to others."
"Is the crew in danger?"
"Probably not. They all had full spectrum immunizations before boarding. My guess is that his friends had their shots too. But a regular program of booster shots is necessary. I'll have to check on everyone aboard. There may have been some skips. Until that's done, this fellow should be kept in total isolation."
"This is outrageous," Sevrin said. "There is nothing wrong with me. You're not isolating me, you're imprisoning me. You invent the crime, find me guilty, sentence me . . ."
"Would you like to run the tests yourself, Doctor?" There was no answer. "You knew you were a carrier before you started out, didn't you?"
"No!"
"Then why did you fight the examination?"
"It was an infringement on my rights as a human being . . ."
"Oh, stop ranting."
"Put him in isolation," Kirk said.
"Be ready for his friends' objections. They're a vocal lot."
"I'm ready."
There was still a crowd in the corridor; four of the Aurora group (one girl was missing) were sitting or sprawling on the deck; among them stood Sulu, Chekov and several crewmen. The protesters were chanting, but this time e
ach of them had a different slogan.
"Eden now!"
"Free Ton Sevrin!"
"James T. Kirk is a brachycephalic jerk!"
"McCoy is a doctor of veterinary medicine!"
Sulu was talking to one of the girls, between slogans. He seemed confused but fascinated. Thus far no one had noticed Kirk's arrival.
"You don't belong with them," the girl was telling Sulu. "You know what we want. You want it yourself. Come, join us."
"How do you know what I want, Mavig?"
"You're young. Think young, brother." Lifting a hand to him, she gave him an egg.
"Mr. Sulu," Kirk said sharply. Sulu started, stiffened with embarrassment, and hastily gave the egg back to Mavig. "Explain, Mr. Sulu."
"No explanation, sir."
Kirk turned to the group, which had gotten even noisier upon seeing him, "Dr. Sevrin will be released as soon as we determine it is medically safe."
"Herbert Herbert Herbert Herbert . . ."
Ignoring them, Kirk strode toward the elevator with Sulu, stepping over the bodies. Chekov followed. As he approached Irina, she lay back provocatively.
"Don't stay with Herbert. Join us. You'll be happier. Come, Pavel."
"Link up, Pavel," Adam said.
"Join us."
"Link up, Pavel. Link up, Pavel."
Adam struck a chord on his instrument and began to sing:
Stiff man putting my mind in jail—
Judge bangs the gavel, and says No bail—
So I'll lick his hand and wag my tail . . .
Blessedly the elevator doors opened at this point, and Kirk, Sulu and Chekov made their escape.
The bridge was a haven of routine activity, with Spock in charge. Chekov and Sulu went to their posts. But before Kirk could settle, the intercom cut in with its signal.
"Engineering to bridge," Scott's voice said.
''Kirk here."
"Captain, I just had to give one of those barefooted what-do-you-call-ems the boot out of here. She came in bold as brass, tried to incite my crew to disaffect."
