Kirk allowed the viewscreen to change, increasing magnification. Spock’s conclusions were based on computer-enhanced pictures, but much of what he reported was readily apparent even to Kirk’s untrained eye. The fields paraded by in distinctly laid out patterns favored by farmers on most worlds; those had been selected by computers to maximize yield. He wondered if the people below also used computer analysis or if they had arrived at this in some other way.
“Now, there’s a world I wouldn’t mind settlin’ down on,” said McCoy, at Kirk’s elbow. The captain jumped, not having heard the doctor approach. “Peaceful down there. A fellow can run his fingers through the soil and feel a part of nature.”
“I sometimes wonder if you ever saw the outside of a farmhouse. I have this picture of you living in an Atlanta penthouse, peering out across the horizon where the fields ought to be.”
“I grew up on a farm, Jim.” The hurt in McCoy’s voice made Kirk change the subject.
“Have you finished bioscan analysis?”
[89] “All done and fed into Spock’s computer. That planet’s as near Earth norm as you’ll find in all of space. A beautiful place. No pollutants in the air from factories, weather nicely controlled, the whole place approaches paradise.”
“No factories? Spock, is that so?”
“Yes, Captain. Fascinating. I had not considered this aspect until now. All polluting industry is in orbit now so that Earth’s atmosphere remains untainted. I find no evidence of similar orbiting factories. I am at a loss to explain the lack of atmospheric pollution.”
“They might be even more advanced than we can know,” mused Kirk.
“Bioscans are continuing, aimed at one of their cities,” said McCoy. “Their cities are the model of efficiency, too. No grid pattern for them. That’s not esthetic enough.”
“There seems to be a definite predilection for the hexagon in both their architecture and their city planning. It is as efficient a pattern as the square and is more mathematically pleasing.”
“He can’t even find pleasure in architecture. He’s got to reduce everything down to geometry and mathematical proofs.”
“Doctor, I fail to see why you denigrate such logical tools. Surely it is a better way of approaching a problem than blundering through blindly as you do, relying solely on faulty emotions.”
“Enough,” said Kirk, silencing the two antagonists. “I don’t want to beam down in the center of a city without announcing ourselves. Do you think they’ve discovered us orbiting their planet?”
“Negative, Captain,” said Uhura. “I have been monitoring all radar and other detection bands. They don’t seem to use radar, either. Any sighting of us would have to be visual, as we occlude a star.”
[90] “But how do they guide their airplanes? Tight-beamed lasers? Comments, Spock, Uhura?”
Before either could answer, an all-too-familiar voice filled the bridge. “I demand to know the meaning of this outrage.”
“Ambassador Zarv, please return to your quarters. We are busy with more pressing matters than any you can contribute.” Kirk felt mounting irritation at the Tellarite. He hadn’t swayed the crew as Kirk had intended, although Lorelei had highly praised the diplomat’s histrionic abilities. All Zarv had done was create havoc wherever he went. Kirk had to believe, in part, that the problems aboard the Enterprise were due to the negotiating team’s presence—and attitude. If they’d stayed in their quarters, feelings wouldn’t have mounted against them. Zarv rubbed everyone the wrong way.
“I shall do no such thing, Kirk. Why do we spin about this worthless ball of mud? It isn’t Ammdon. I know. I’ve been there, and those continents are different.” He waved a pudgy hand at the viewscreen.
“In case you missed it, Ambassador, our warp engines are shut down and we are in dire straits. There is no easy way of alerting Starbase One of our plight. All five of our message packets were destroyed, and without warp-engine power, we cannot use the subspace radio. We can make only limited use of our transporter. Therefore, on impulse power only it would take us years—”
“Four hundred seventy three point nine two three, to be exact,” furnished Spock.
“... almost five hundred years to return to base. Ammdon is a bit closer.”
“Eighty-eight point six six six years, if the sidereal tables supplied by Ammdon astronomers are accurate.”
“Thank you, Mr. Spock.” Kirk’s irritation rose with even his science officer. He felt pulled tight and ready to break. [91] “We can neither continue nor return, nor can we contact Starfleet. Therefore, our only course of action is to repair our engines. In such a case, we might be able to finish our trip to Ammdon or, if the engines are not completely fixed, use the subspace radio to report position and condition. I do not see you contributing to a solution in either instance, Ambassador. Return to your quarters and stay there.”
“Kirk, I won’t have you ordering me about like this. I—”
“Lieutenant Patten,” Kirk called, punching his intercom button on the arm of his seat, “send five security personnel to the bridge to escort Ambassador Zarv to his quarters.”
“This is an outrage!” protested Zarv, but the sight of the security team caused him to snort, spin and stalk off, flanked by the armed men.
“Mister Spock, why hasn’t this planet been cataloged? An obviously advanced civilization shouldn’t have gone undetected by Federation scouts.” Kirk relaxed a little now that the Tellarite ambassador had been removed. In spite of their dangerous position, he felt more at home dealing with problems concerning his ship and crew than he did with recalcitrant diplomats.
“Unknown, sir. This star system is not too far from the Starbase One-Ammdon route. Certainly traffic along this path has increased after Romulan incursions began. Even behind the obscuring dust cloud, some evidence ought to have been noted.”
“Perhaps no one bothered to do more than monitor radio and subspace channels, Mr. Spock,” suggested Uhura. “Before being assigned to the Enterprise I worked on a scout ship. We often hurried through a sector, mapping only the stars with likely Class M planets, and those we always scanned for radio activity first.”
“Shoddy procedure,” muttered Spock.
[92] “But sometimes necessary,” Kirk said. “The galaxy is big and there will always be systems right on our doorstep that we’ve overlooked. Let’s hope that this planet works out for our benefit.”
The door to the turboelevator opened. Kirk stiffened slightly, thinking Zarv had returned. He looked back and immediately relaxed. Dr. McCoy strode up, clipboard in hand.
“Got the life-sensor readings analyzed, Jim. It looks like good news. Those people down there aren’t human, but they register more so than does Spock.”
“Atmosphere, aquasphere, the entire ecosphere, any problems for us?”
“Difficult to say without samples to study, but I’d say this was a prime planet, just about tailored for humans like us—or aliens like them down there.” He used his clipboard to point at the viewscreen. “Outwardly humanoid, some slight deviations. Some oddities, but nothing outrageously dangerous.”
“Be more specific in your report, Doctor.” Spock glanced over McCoy’s shoulder at the clipboard containing the preliminary results. “What do you consider an ‘oddity’?”
“Well, nothing I can put my finger on. Just feelings, like the ones you’re always wishing you had and don’t. There’s too much life down there.”
“I do not wish to be hindered by your human emotions. And I do not understand what you mean by ‘too much life,’ Doctor.”
“I don’t, either, Bones.” Kirk looked up at his friend.
The doctor shrugged and said, “Seems like too high a life-form reading for the number of people sampled. Might be they’re more intense.”
“How unscientific,” scoffed Spock.
“But no one has discovered any threat, either biological [93] or otherwise? Mr. Spock, Bones, get a security team together and beam down.”
> “Aye, aye, sir.” Spock was already en his way to the transporter. McCoy followed, looking more reluctant.
“You know what we want. Negotiate for the shielding. Lead if they can supply it. Anything better if they’ve developed it. And solid rock if there’s no hope of anything else.”
“Since they employ fission reactors on a wide scale, such shielding is logically an available commodity.”
“What would they want in return?” asked McCoy. “Without a proper contact team, we can’t offer them any of our technology, and they’re advanced enough that they won’t want glass beads and trinkets.”
“Doctor,” said Spock, “I believe the Starfleet Regulations are specific on this point. As we are endangered, our mission is in jeopardy and there is a distinct potential for greater harm when the Romulans are considered, Standing Order One is modifiable so that we can offer items not in this culture. We must be cautious in the items or knowledge offered for trade, but our actions do have the sanction of law.”
“Makes me feel damn good,” protested McCoy. He stared at the transporter platform and added, “That makes me feel damned good, too.”
“Good luck. Keep a complete tricorder record of your meeting. The Federation Contact Department will be very interested. This is the first truly advanced technological culture discovered in more than twenty years.”
“All ready, Captain,” came Spock’s level voice from the transporter platform. Surrounding him and McCoy were four security men.
“Activate transporter,” ordered Kirk. Shimmering [94] columns of energy formed around each of the men. They vanished from sight. Kirk wished he could be with them, but of course that wasn’t possible. He was captain of a starship; his duty lay aboard his vessel. He hurried back to the bridge to monitor their first contact.
Leonard McCoy stumbled and fell to one knee, cursing. “When will they design a machine that works like it’s supposed to? Damned thing dropped me an inch too far off the ground.”
“You positioned yourself off balance while still aboard the Enterprise,” said Spock. “If you would not fear the transporter, such occurrences wouldn’t happen.”
“Why shouldn’t I fear it? Kyle said it was being modified because of the power situation. Damn thing rips apart all my atoms, juggles them like some performer at a circus, then tosses them back together who knows where. A miracle all my enzymes are still functioning. That’d be something to look into. If you use a transporter very much, are enzyme levels affected adversely?”
“Doctor, such studies have been done on Vulcan and elsewhere and indicate no deleterious effects caused by the action of the transporter beam.”
“Sir,” said Neal, commander of the security team. He indicated several humanoids approaching.
Spock studied them carefully, his tricorder working the while. He and the others had beamed down on the outskirts of a large city. Soft, velvety green turf under their feet spread out as far as the city streets, which appeared to be a more familiar glossy black glasphalt power strip. Buildings nearby had the same soft texture to them; nowhere did Spock see the hardness of brick or steel in construction.
“Peculiar life-form readings,” he muttered. “Most intense, as you mentioned previously, Dr. McCoy.”
[95] The humanoids drew nearer, then stopped. Hairless heads gleamed in the dim afternoon sunlight. The effect of no eyebrows caused their eyes to appear larger than human norm, but the lack of ears came to Spock as the most striking difference. The aliens stood equidistant apart, not talking, not looking at one another. They studied Spock, McCoy and the others with no discernible expression, either of curiosity or of fear.
“How do we approach them?” asked McCoy. “I haven’t read Robinson Crusoe in a long time.”
Spock stepped forward and said, “I am science officer of the starship Enterprise now orbiting your world. We desire commerce.” No response. Spock fiddled with his tricorder, then tried once more. No visible emotion crossed the faces.
“You’re a real crowd pleaser, Spock. I’m not getting any new life-form readings. You’re not much good as a standup comic.”
“Your ridicule is misplaced, Doctor. I get no indication from them that they even notice us. Telepathy is not unknown. Their lack of ears indicates communication other than we employ.”
“Are you going to try the Vulcan mind meld?”
“I must attempt it, though it does not seem a fruitful approach at this point of contact.”
Spock stepped forward, hesitated, then took another few steps to stand before the humanoid on the extreme left. The Vulcan reached out. The humanoid didn’t stir. Spock touched fingers to the humanoid’s forehead; the response was instantaneous.
A heavy fist lashed out and struck the Vulcan in the stomach. He staggered back, trying to recover balance and breath. He gasped out to the security team, “Wait! Don’t fire!”
[96] His voice wasn’t strong enough for them to hear and obey. They fired phasers, set on stun. The humanoids trembled under the energy onslaught but didn’t fall unconscious.
“Their nervous systems must not be the same,” yelled McCoy. “Don’t try the phasers.”
By this time Spock had recovered, but nothing he could do prevented the humanoids from surging forward and seizing the security team. From thin air appeared more and more aliens until the entire landing party had been seized and subdued.
“A fine mess this is,” grumbled McCoy. “Now how are you going to get us out?”
“I see no logical course of action to follow except to submit and wait for a chance to speak with those in power. Rather, to communicate in some fashion with their leaders.”
“Fat chance we’re going to see the light of day again,” said McCoy as they were dragged along the soft green velvety turf underfoot and toward the bowels of the city.
“They were taken prisoner, sir,” came Chekov’s immediate report. “What action do we take?”
“Prisoner? What happened? I came straight from the transporter room. They haven’t had time to get into trouble.”
“Sir!” barked Chekov. “Mr. Spock attempted to communicate using Wulcan mind-merging techniques. He was struck. Security team opened fire with hand phasers. All were grabbed and taken into city.”
“Sulu, any activity in orbit or near space?”
“None, Captain.”
“Uhura, radio messages?”
“Negative, sir.”
“Put the full tricorder tapes onto the forward viewscreen. I want to see whatever Spock and McCoy saw prior to the incident.”
[97] Kirk watched the few minutes replayed. He shook his head. It seemed improbable that such a disaster had struck without warning. Spock had approached slowly, intent clear. If he was correct about telepathy being the method of communication, it explained much. A telepathic culture needed radios the way outer space needed more vacuum; but if they were telepathic, why hadn’t they read his peaceful intent? Some cultures had taboos against touching, but Spock’s appearance indicated an alien presence and he had not abruptly forced himself on the humanoid. If touching was forbidden, why hadn’t the humanoid backed away or otherwise indicated that Spock should halt?
“Dammit,” he said, fists tightened into straining balls, “they followed first-contact procedures. That shouldn’t have happened.”
“What do we do, sir?” asked Chekov.
“Ready phasers. Shift energy from all level-six and lower priority items.”
“Photon torpedoes also, Captain?”
“No, Mr. Chekov. The phasers are more precise. I don’t want to start a war. I want to get radiation shielding from those people down there. This is not an armed aggression. Not yet.”
Kirk watched as Chekov began flipping switches and getting back ready lights indicating the phasers were powering up and getting readied for action. Then red lights blossomed like flowers in the spring.
“Sir, phaser crews are not at their posts.”
“Why not?”
Pavel Cheko
v turned and shrugged, indicating he had no idea.
“Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. I’m going to see about those crews personally. You will not open fire unless the landing party is in danger of losing their lives.”
[98] “Aye, aye, sir.” Sulu slipped into the command seat as Kirk rushed to the turboelevator. He whished down and across the broad dish of the main portion of the Enterprise and hurried out toward the fire-control nodule fastened under the structure.
Empty. The room had been evacuated as if there’d been an alarm.
He slipped into a seat and prepared the phasers. “Mr. Sulu, status.”
“Nothing has changed, sir. The aliens have penned up the landing party as if they were farm animals. They didn’t even put them into a prison cell. It looks like a corral with a three-meter-high fence.”
“I’ve activated the phaser firing circuits. Get a security force down here on the double. I want a crew manning the phasers immediately, and then I want the names of whoever abandoned this post. They are to be put on report immediately, pending further disciplinary action.”
He savagely cut the intercom link with the bridge and turned his attention to readying the phasers. When light footsteps sounded behind him, he said, “Take over. I have to return to the bridge.” Kirk spun in the seat and saw Lorelei standing quietly in the door.
“James, the crew has finally discovered the True Path. None will man your weapons. They have discovered a way better than violence.”
“Spock, McCoy and four others are in danger below. Use of our phasers might be the only way of getting them free. Are you willing to condemn them to death?”
“If it means exchanging their lives for others, yes. Such trades are never worthwhile.”
“Those are my friends, my crew members!” Kirk cried.
STAR TREK: TOS #12 - Mutiny on the Enterprise Page 8
