Read Star Trek - Log 8 Online

Authors: Alan Dean Foster

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BOOK: Star Trek - Log 8
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But he was curious. "What kind of guarantee do they want to insure that we'll follow through on our part of the agreement?"

Spock frowned as though Kirk had said something betraying ignorance of the obvious. "They see the honesty of your response in your mind, Captain. No further assurance is necessary. They are appalled that such a thing could be considered."

Kirk grunted; he was satisfied. "So much for intangibles. Getting down to basics"—he studied the huge bulk of the adult Lactrans—"we come to the matter of accommodations."

"They say you have no reason to worry, Captain," the first officer declared. "While their society may appear complex, it is actually as simple as their needs. From what their offspring has told them of the
Enterprise
, they feel they will be quite comfortable in an empty cargo hold. They see no reason why our food synthesizers cannot produce nourishment acceptable to their systems. Other than this, they anticipate nothing in the way of special requirements even if the trip should prove one of extended duration."

"That's a relief," Kirk answered feelingly, leaving aside for the moment the troubling question of what constituted a journey of "extended duration" for a Lactran.

Just how far away
was
this Boqu?

McCoy had sidled over close to him. "Just had a worrisome thought, Jim."

"Only one?" Kirk managed the first real smile in days. "What is it now?"

"We're supposed to be carrying out a straightforward rescue mission. Before too much more time passes, Starfleet Headquarters is liable to get nervous about the absence of reports. What do we tell them if they manage to contact us?" He nodded once, significantly, toward the silent Lactrans.

Kirk shrugged. "They'll assume we're still searching for Lieutenant Commander Markel and his ship. If anyone inquires beyond that . . ." He paused thoughtfully. "We needn't go into details. Sometimes a starship captain has to make treaties with newly met races without the aid of formal diplomacy, has to create procedure in order to respond to exigencies not covered in the manuals. Our agreement to cooperate with the Lactrans has the status of a temporary treaty."

"Under what classification?" McCoy inquired relentlessly.

"Expediency." The captain's smile vanished as Kirk considered exactly what they might be getting themselves into. "Maybe it would be better to tell the truth and, if anyone asks, say we've gone a-hunting. I wish we knew for what."

"The Lactrans are prepared, Captain," Spock informed him. "They have given in to their young, and it will accompany them. If all is in readiness, they are anxious to depart."

Kirk wasn't anxious, but saw no excuse for further delay. He spoke to Scott. "Tell Chief Kyle to beam us back aboard, making allowance for three regular-size guests and three large ones." He gestured toward the Lactrans.

The chief engineer already had his communicator out and open. "All right, Captain."

"And have the chief use the transporter nearest Shuttle Bay for our Lactran visitors. The corridors are larger there and will make it easier for them to move around, if they so desire."

Scott nodded assent and relayed the instructions to the ship. The Lactrans appeared thoroughly absorbed as several of the humans vanished. Then they themselves were gone, accompanied by Kirk and Spock.

Once back on board the
Enterprise
, Kirk's first concern was to make certain the Lactrans were comfortably ensconced in their temporary quarters. Despite the sterility of the surroundings in the empty cargo hold, they professed to be quite satisfied with the amenities.

Leaving Spock to tend to any immediate alien requests, Kirk made his way quickly to Sick Bay. McCoy and Nurse Chapel were already well along in their detailed examination of the three surviving explorers.

"Markel and Bryce are in excellent shape, Jim," the doctor told him, "as would befit valuable exhibits."

"And Lieutenant Randolph?"

"She'll be all right eventually, but she needs about a month of doing nothing." McCoy grinned. "Sometimes that's the hardest prescription to assign. She's an active type, physically and mentally, and it's going to be difficult to keep her confined in a bed." The smile faded, to be replaced by a look of concern. "Confined she'll be, though. Her system is badly weakened."

"It may be improved when the official report reaches Starfleet, Bones. Endurance under conditions of stress is often grounds for promotion. At least you won't have to worry about the jawanda—assuming we can find and capture such a creature. The Lactrans are convinced it won't require any kind of attention. Spock is still trying to draw the details of the animal out of them, but the conceptualizations, as he keeps putting it, are confusing. Also, some of our preconceptions about jawandas appear to amuse our guests no end."

"I'm glad they think it's funny," McCoy observed wryly, indicating that he saw very little humor in the situation. His gaze, revealingly, was on the bedridden Randolph. "I haven't exactly warmed up to our elephantine guests."

"Think friendly thoughts, Bones," Kirk advised him strongly, reminding him of the Lactrans' mental abilities.

Satisfied that the three survivors were okay, Kirk headed for the bridge. Jawanda, jawanda . . . the name meant nothing to him. He could not even vaguely relate it to any creature he had ever heard of. Well, the Lactrans would have to clarify the nature of their quarry soon enough. There was no real need to worry so long as it wasn't going to be transported on board the ship.

It didn't occur to Kirk to consider the possibility that perhaps, for certain reasons, it could not be.

Spock and McCoy were waiting for him when he returned to the bridge. Their presence was expected; that of their new companion was not.

"I was about to order the installation of a special intercom unit for the use of the adult Lactrans in the converted hold, Captain," explained the first officer, "so that they would be in constant communication with us. They informed me that this was not only unnecessary, but a waste of equipment." He gestured at the long gray mass near the science station, the front end of which was presently exploring Spock's instrumentation.

"Their offspring will remain on the bridge. As it is always in telepathic contact with its parents, it can convey their impressions to us and a description of what takes place on the bridge to them instantaneously, without the need for, as they put it, awkward mechanical contrivances. He fits into the turbolifts, while the adults do not."

"Thank the adults for their consideration, Mr. Spock," Kirk told him. While he was not thrilled by the prospect of having a superintelligent child underfoot for the duration of the journey, he could not deny the logic behind its presence.

While it might be unnecessary, there was something else he ought to do. Moving to the command chair, Kirk activated the interdeck communications network and addressed the pickup:

"Attention, all personnel. This is the captain speaking. We are about to embark on an expedition of indeterminate length to perform a service for our newfound friends, the Lactrans, inhabitants of the planet about which we are orbiting. Concurrent with this, we will have as our guests three representatives of that race. Several of you have already noticed their arrival on board. The Lactrans are natural telepaths and . . . curious. The actions of an alien life form, or its shape, should not prove offensive to any of you or you wouldn't be part of this crew.

"Two adult Lactrans are presently installed in temporary quarters in cargo hold Fourteen-B. A third, an adolescent of the species, is at present with me on the bridge, but it has been given the run of the ship." He forbore adding that there was no way he could restrict the youthful alien's activities. It was only good diplomacy to grant gracious assent to the inevitable.

"Bear in mind that this is the young, however intelligent, of a species. It may be inclined to act in sometimes inexplicable fashion. Rest assured that, however misdirected, such actions are in no way hostile. I stress this so that no one will react in a manner in any way other than friendly toward our guests." So that, he finished silently, our guests don't get peeved and decide to take over the ship.

Ending the transmission, he rose again and spoke to the helm: "Stand by to get underway, Mr. Sulu."

"Standing by, sir," the helmsman acknowledged.

"Spock, Bones—let's go greet our passengers and find out the details of this expedition."

The two adult Lactrans were lolling about the cargo hold, apparently somnolent. Spock assured Kirk and McCoy that, despite the appearance of inactivity, the minds of both adults were as active and alert as ever. As he sat down, Kirk felt a tingling probe at the back of his skull and knew the correctness of the first officer's announcement.

He had expected the young Lactran to accompany them for this formal explanatory session, but the youngster had chosen to remain on the bridge, in the company of Engineer Scott. Several members of the crew had already remarked that the young alien followed Scott around like a dog attending its master.

"Before you enjoy that analogy," the chief engineer had responded, "keep in mind that in this case the 'dog' is twenty times smarter than the 'master.' "

Glancing approvingly around the hold, Kirk saw that Scotty's technicians had installed some recreational simulacrum machinery. Despite their insistence that nothing in the way of material comfort was required, he thought he sensed the Lactrans' approval at the way in which the "simplistic" machinery projected three-dimensional reproductions of the Lactran surface on the bare metal walls.

"They are indeed pleased, Captain," Spock informed him, unnervingly confirming his unspoken supposition, "though more by our concern for their comfort than by the actual projections themselves."

Kirk shifted in his chair. "If everyone's comfortable, then perhaps they can give us a course?"

"Naturally, Captain." Spock paused a moment, then replied, sooner than Kirk had expected, "They apparently have already done so."

There was a buzz from the cargo-hold intercom, and Kirk rose to answer it. "Kirk here."

"Captain"—it was Sulu's voice: excited, confused, and just a bit awed—"something just jumped inside my head. It was—"

"A series of coordinates," Kirk finished for him, turning to study the impassive Lactrans respectfully.

"Yes, sir—but how did you know?"

"Never mind that, Mr. Sulu. Were the coordinates precise?"

"Very, Captain."

"That's our new course, then. Lay them in. All ahead warp-factor four."

"Yes, sir," the helmsman replied, his tone slightly dazed. "Bridge out."

Kirk walked back to the chair and resumed his seat slowly. "Mr. Spock?"

"The adults relayed the information to their offspring, Captain, the moment they sensed the request in your mind. The youth, in turn, planted them clearly in the thoughts of Lieutenant Sulu."

"Wonderful communications system," observed McCoy, a mite sourly, feeling even more left out of things than usual.

"I presume the terminus of those coordinates is Boqu?" Kirk commented, expecting a casual assent. It wasn't quite forthcoming.

"The Lactrans hope so, Captain," Spock told him. It took barely a second for the import of that reply to sink in.

"Hope?" a startled Kirk blurted quickly. "What do they mean, 'hope'? I understood that they knew exactly where this world lies!"

Spock was shaking his head slowly, his eyes half glazed. "They do and yet they do not, Captain. It was such a long time ago that the last Lactran ship went out to Boqu. The records involved are quite old. The coordinates should lead us directly to Boqu, but the Lactrans cannot say this for certain. For various reasons its position in the plenum is not easy to plot."

"What," Kirk went on, taking a long, slow breath, "if Boqu doesn't exist where these ancient coordinates insist it's supposed to?"

This time Spock's reply was longer in coming. "If that is the case, the Lactrans say, we will have to begin a search for its present location."

Kirk started to object, then caught himself. It was impossible to tell what the aliens might consider an unfriendly gesture. Pointing out to them that the
Enterprise
could not spend an infinite number of years looking for a world that might be only an old rumor might so be interpreted. Which led him uncomfortably back to the possibility of the
Enterprise
's operating under Lactran control, without his cooperation.

He saw the
Enterprise
spiraling farther and farther out from an empty point in space, stopping only to take on fresh supplies at support bases, to pick up new dilithium crystals and power elements. He watched their Lactran hosts insist on a continuation of the search, the ship's crew growing older and older in pursuit of a mythical planet . . . How long did Lactrans live, anyway? He suspected that it was well beyond the normal human or even Vulcan life span.

It would be best to shunt that unpleasant scenario aside and hope that the Lactrans' ancient records were as remarkable as their mental powers.

"Now that we know where we're going," he declared to Spock, and thus to the pair of watching aliens, "perhaps we can have some more information on what exactly it is we're going for? Can they describe one of these jawandas for us?"

Spock, attentive, recited slowly, as though from the pages of an old, old book: "A jawanda is a large, asexual creature of unusual appearance with interesting coloring." He blinked and looked across at the other two officers. "That's all."

McCoy grimaced. "That's not very informative, Spock. Couldn't they be a little more descriptive?"

"The Lactrans wish they could, Doctor," the first officer explained. "They indicate that much information is contained in records long since become dust. It is yet another reason why they have been so anxious to secure a specimen for their collection."

Kirk's fingers drummed softly on one arm of the chair. "You said it was a large creature, Mr. Spock. Do the Lactrans know how large?"

Spock assumed an expression of indifference. "It varies considerably from specimen to specimen, it seems. Again, the old records are distressingly poor in detail."

BOOK: Star Trek - Log 8
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