The Autobiography of James T. Kirk (36 page)

“Jim … I should have known.”

Spock was lying on a diagnostic bed in sickbay. Something calling itself “V’Ger” was on the ship, and it had literally swallowed the
Enterprise
whole. Spock, against my orders, had left the ship and tried to make contact with this “V’Ger.” He had mind-melded with something, and it had caused him neurological trauma. He was different, but not as cold as he had been when he returned to me.

“I saw V’Ger’s home planet, a planet populated by living machines. Unbelievable technology. V’Ger has knowledge that spans this universe. And yet, with all this pure logic … V’Ger is barren, cold, no mystery, no beauty. I should have known.” He then closed his eyes. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. The mysterious spaceship had reached Earth, and I was no further along in stopping it than when we first encountered it. I shook Spock.

“Known? Known what? Spock, what should you have known?!” I was desperate, so lost. I’d been going through the motions of being a captain, but I’d done nothing to get us closer to completing the mission.

Spock opened his eyes and took my hand.

“This simple feeling,” Spock said, “is beyond V’Ger’s comprehension.”

And Spock smiled. Looking back, this was a pivotal moment in my friend’s life. From this point on, he was no longer hiding his emotions; he found a way to integrate them into his life and character. He would later tell me that V’Ger showed him the
Kolinahr
was in itself illogical; knowledge of one’s emotions provided answers.

But the more important moment for me was when he took my hand. I had my friend, my partner. I was no closer to finding the truth of how to get out of this situation, but with Spock returned to the fold, I had no doubts anymore. We’d beat this thing.

“As much as you wanted the
Enterprise
, I want this!”

We were in the center of the strange ship, a concave amphitheater, pulsating with light and sound. The most advanced technological construction I had ever seen; a literal living machine. And in control of all of it, a 20th-century space probe called
Voyager
.

We had solved the puzzle. V’Ger was
Voyager
. This ancient NASA probe had disappeared into a wormhole and ended up on the other side of the Galaxy, where a planet of living machines had built an advanced ship for it to carry out its primitive programming to “learn all that is learnable.” It then traveled the universe, amassing so much knowledge, the machine achieved consciousness itself. It had come back to Earth to find the “god” who created it, and join with it.

Decker was going to give it its wish. Branches of energy reached out to him from the floor, transforming him. I stared at this young man, whose life I’d changed. I’d taken him away from the woman he loved; I’d given him a ship then appropriated it out from under him, all for my own selfish reasons.

And I watched as he left our reality.

Decker was totally engulfed in energy; he was gone, and the energy started to spread, to engulf the entire spaceship. I was captivated, but Spock and McCoy pulled me away. We ran back to the
Enterprise
, as a torrent of light consumed the giant ship around us. In an explosion of energy, V’Ger’s ship and the threat to Earth were gone, leaving only the
Enterprise
.

Back on the bridge, I looked around; the room was different, but the people were the same. I thought about Decker, who now existed on a higher plane; the knowledge of the universe was his. Despite what I’d done to him, he had gained something wonderful. And I had too. I had my ship back.

And of course the cliché is right: you can’t go home again.

*
EDITOR’S NOTE:
U.S.S. Constellation, U.S.S. Defiant, U.S.S. Excalibur, U.S.S. Exeter, U.S.S. Intrepid
, and
U.S.S. Valiant
.

“I DON’T THINK THEY’RE INTERESTED IN US, JIM,”
McCoy said.

Spock, McCoy, and I were in environment suits, standing at the edge of a pink and green “ocean,” though it wasn’t strictly water, more of an ooze of chemicals natural to this planet. Staring up at us from the ooze were three natives. They were all about three feet long, with blue skin that was like a flexible shell, no eyes that I could detect, and claws that resembled lobsters’. The liquid they were swimming in was abnormally hot, something on the order of 150 degrees centigrade. We all stood there, with the creatures vaguely clicking their claws. It was an unusual first contact.

We were about a year into my second five-year mission. Nogura, after my little bit of blackmail, had been in no rush to have me back in the Admiralty, and so, after some cursory congratulations for stopping V’Ger and saving the planet, he sent us out again. Once the technical issues of the refitted
Enterprise
were worked out, it became a very smooth-running ship. There were obvious advantages to having so much of my old crew back, as they could train the new crew in what I deemed priorities. We did a lot of what we’d always been good at: carried diplomats, resolved conflicts, and made first contacts.

We were on a routine mapping expedition when we detected something unexpected.

“The planet closest to the sun,” Spock said, “has artificial satellites.” The planet was not a Class-M world; it was much hotter than any celestial body we’d found life on before. But the artificial satellites indicated an advanced civilization.

“The planet has no cities on the surface. Its oceans are not water; they seem to be a swirling mixture of elements in a liquid state,” Spock said. “I’m detecting abundant life-form readings beneath the surface.” Though Starfleet didn’t approve of a captain and a first officer being in a landing party, I was always nostalgic for the way we had done things during my first tour on the
Enterprise
. So I almost always went, and almost always took Spock and McCoy with me. As I stood face-to-face with some of the natives, however, I wasn’t sure I was the best person for the job.

“These are the creatures I detected, Captain,” Spock said. “There’s over seven billion living in these oceans.” Most of my first contacts were with humanoids. This usually made communication a little easier. In this case, these life-forms were unlike any I’d encountered, and I probably should’ve brought an expert in astrobiology. But at this stage I was still trying to recapture old glory, so I walked over to talk to them.

“I’m Captain James Kirk, of the
Starship Enterprise
,” I said. “Representing the United Federation of Planets.” The creatures continued to click their claws.

“I feel like this used to be easier,” McCoy said, reading my mind. I was hoping the universal translator would work as it usually did, but we got no response. At least not initially. So Spock started to make adjustments on the translator in our communicators. It wasn’t necessary.

“We understood you.” The voice came out of our communicators. It was the creatures. “You have not observed the proper protocol.” I couldn’t tell which creature was speaking, so I decided it was the one whose claws had been clicking the most. I addressed it and asked what the proper protocol was.

“It violates
Legaran
protocol to ask,” the creature said. Then, without another word, they all slipped under the ooze and were gone.
Legaran.
That must be the name they call themselves, or at least what the universal translator heard them call themselves.

I now was more determined to make contact with these creatures; they were clearly an advanced society. Spock pointed out that, with no knowledge of their customs, there was no clear way to proceed. But I didn’t want to give up so easily. This was a fascinating discovery; I thought it was worth another shot.

“Let’s go to them,” I said, then called the
Enterprise
and asked for the new aqua shuttle. Scotty had successfully renovated one of our shuttlecraft to be able to effectively operate as a submarine. Sulu piloted the craft down to the surface; the three of us got on board and removed our environment suits.

“The natives may not react well to us invading their living environment,” Spock said.

“I agree with Spock,” McCoy said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What happened to the hearty explorers I used to know?” I said.

“You’re thinking of someone else,” McCoy said. But we were going to go ahead. I told Sulu to first land on the ooze. The craft bobbed on the surface while Spock took readings. He served as navigator as Sulu piloted, we submerged, and they set a course toward the center of the population. As we moved deeper, I saw what appeared to be lights in the distance.

“Phosphorescence?” I said to Spock. He checked his scanner.

“No sir,” he said, “electricity.”

As we got closer, we saw the blue creatures moving in and out of openings in what at first appeared to be underwater caves in a cliffside. Upon further inspection, we saw that this “cliff” was in fact an artificial structure, one among many. It was a city, and it went on for miles. Thousands of the creatures swam about, engaged in various activities.

“Spock, are you picking up any transmissions?” I said. “We need to try to talk to them again.”

“We can hear you,” a voice said over our communication speaker. I turned to Spock.

“Were we transmitting?” Spock shook his head no. They could hear us; I wasn’t sure how. I decided to take advantage of it. I told them we came in peace, and the voice responded and said they knew that, but that we had not observed protocol. This was frustrating, and I was single-minded about opening a dialogue. But it wasn’t in the cards.

Sulu reported that several dozen of the creatures were closing in on the aqua shuttle.

“Take us out of here, Mr. Sulu …” But before Sulu could execute my order, the shuttle was suddenly jolted. Spock reported that about 40 of the creatures had latched on to our craft, pulling us down.

We were at a depth of 1,000 meters, and the shuttle could withstand 4,000. But that was in water. The liquid on this planet was a lot more dense. If these creatures brought us too deep, we’d be crushed. I spoke to the voice.

“If you just let us go, we will leave you alone,” I said.

“You will leave us alone,” the voice said.

“Depth now 2,000 meters,” Sulu said.

“Killing us won’t solve anything,” I said. “And I don’t want to have to hurt you by increasing my engine thrust.”

“Depth now 2,500 meters,” Sulu said, then checked the air pressure gauge. “Outer pressure 500 GSC and climbing.” My eardrums started to hurt; the pressure was building. I went to the communications panel.

“Kirk to
Enterprise
,” I said. All I got was static in response.

“I think we’ve been nice enough,” McCoy said. I agreed. This trip had gone bad very quickly. Sulu tried to activate the engines, but they didn’t work. The shuttle was going down, with no way to stop it. Just then, Spock detected tachyon emissions underneath us.
*

On the viewscreen, directly below us, appeared some kind of pentagonal hole in the seafloor. There was a silvery glow in the center. The creatures were bringing us directly toward it.

“They’re letting go of the shuttle,” Spock said. “But it is too late …” Our momentum downward carried us into the hole. The shuttle shook violently, and then suddenly was still. The air pressure was back to normal. Sulu reported that outside pressure was now at zero, but we still had no engine power.

“Jim, look …” McCoy said.

Out of the view port, outer space and the
Enterprise
in orbit. The pentagonal hole was some kind of portal. The Legarans had sent us back to our ship, and Scotty tractored us on board. I suppose making contact with the Legarans was historic, and though I’d managed to do absolutely nothing, I take some pride in the fact that to this day, despite years of efforts, no Federation diplomat has managed to get in a room with them. But it was also the first sign that the Galaxy might be different, and not as easy for me as it used to be.