by Judith
“But most logical on the part of the Talin,” Spock concluded.
McCoy shook his head in dismissal. “Oh, spare us the logic of it, Spock. Those beings down there were scared. Cold, senseless, emotional fear. It was their feelings that saved the day. Not logical thinking. Emotions!”
[193] “It was their emotions that brought them to this point in the—”
“Please, Spock, Bones, before we have to ask the Talin negotiators to come up here next.” Kirk put a hand on the console to reassure himself that he was back and that all he was learning was real. “What brought them to the brink so quickly? Things weren’t that bad when we beamed down, were they?”
“It was the dispute over polar airspace,” Spock said. “Because of the difficulties in monitoring the area through the interference of the planet’s magnetosphere, they—”
“The Greens thought the Browns were exploiting gaps in the continent’s defenses,” McCoy said, to cut through Spock’s detailed explanation. “But the Browns kept denying it. So the Greens thought that the Browns were really up to something and started to escalate their war readiness. And that made the Browns convinced that the Greens were making up the whole thing as an excuse to go to war, so they started escalating. It was like one of your bloody chess games with Spock. No one knew when to call it off.”
McCoy and Spock stared at each other.
“And ... ?” Kirk said, not wanting the story to be cut off there. “What happened?”
“The Talin negotiators intervened,” Spock said. “Each side realized that there was no advantage to the other for doing what each was accused of doing.”
“They blamed the whole thing on communications failure,” McCoy said, “to save face. Hardly logical but it sure worked.”
“And they were able to have their armies stand down so quickly?” Kirk asked.
“The Talin have an elaborate system of oaths,” Spock said. “Invoking some of them carries a great deal of authority. And some of those oaths were invoked between the Browns and the Greens for the first time.”
Wilforth’s mouth dropped open in a way which reminded Kirk of the Talin who had seen the cylinders. “The Browns and Greens invoked oaths of common kinship?”
[194] “Yes,” Spock said. “That was the term used by the translator.”
Kirk thought Wilforth was going to faint.
“An hour ago,” the FCO director said, “I would have sworn that would have been impossible.” He looked at Kirk and frowned. “I told you we should have stunned that second pair. They didn’t need to go to a shelter.”
Kirk deflected Spock’s question by speaking first. “We were detected by one pair of Talin and stunned them. A second pair saw us—or at least saw the cylinders beam out.”
“A not uncommon occurrence during FCO operations,” Spock observed.
“So I’ve been told,” Kirk said dryly.
Cardinali came up beside him, one arm around Mallett. “Captain Kirk, this is an unprecedented moment in Talin history. Perhaps one of the greatest gifts we could give them when contact is finally established is a complete record of what transpired during this incident. I’d like permission to have the sensor satellites go to full scan under the Enterprise’s control for at least the next week.”
Kirk began to say no. He didn’t want to extend his stay in this system any longer than he had to.
But Cardinali’s exhilaration was infectious. “Remember how much Earth appreciated the communication logs made by the Vulcans during the last decade of the twentieth century? So many questions were answered.”
Kirk turned to Spock. “If we keep to tightbeam, can we stay in an orbit beyond the range of their sensors?”
“Most efficiently,” Spock said.
“Very well,” Kirk said to Cardinali. “Coordinate your communication requirements with Lieutenant Uhura.”
Cardinali thanked Kirk excitedly, then left with Mallett. The party sounds from the corridor sounded even louder when the doors opened a second time.
“No problem on the close orbit while I was gone?” Kirk asked Spock.
[195] “The Talin had other matters with which to occupy themselves.”
For the first time since his initial meeting with Wilforth, Kirk felt himself begin to relax. He had gone into this mission expecting the worst, yet it had unexpectedly ended with the best possible result.. He knew he’d have to be careful or he’d begin to start expecting this to happen all the time. He smiled at his friends. He had won again, even though this time he hadn’t known all the rules of the game.
“I guess you know that that leaves us with only one thing to do,” McCoy said.
“Absolutely,” Kirk agreed.
Now it was Spock’s turn to be puzzled. “I do not understand. I am aware of nothing more that needs to be done at this time.”
“Of course you don’t understand,” McCoy said as he headed for the doors. “Because you don’t have anything left to do.”
Spock looked at Kirk. Kirk smiled. “What Bones means is that since it’s going to be at least fifty years before we can celebrate with the Talin, right now we have to celebrate for them.”
Spock thought that over. “An entire planet has been saved today. A race has been preserved and someday will have a chance to spread among the stars. Yes, I believe a celebration is in order.”
McCoy stared at Spock in amazement. “Well, I’ll be ... Maybe there is hope for you after all, Spock.”
Kirk patted the doctor on the back. “If the Talin can make it, Bones, anyone can. Come on, Mr. Spock, we’ve got some logical celebrating to do.”
Kirk kept reading the quartermaster’s report and reached out for the coffee cup on the yeoman’s tray without paying attention. The QM subprogram warned that alcohol consumption had shown an alarming increase among the crew but Kirk signed off on it. Yesterday’s Talin celebration party had been the first real blowout his crew had had since the last Nobel and [196] Z. Magnees Prize ceremonies. They were entitled. Then he became aware that he had closed his hand around empty space. He glanced up from his screenpad to see what had happened to the coffee.
The tray was out of reach. Slowly he realized that his yeoman had pulled it away from him.
“Yeoman Frietas, what are—oh.”
“Hello, Captain,” Carolyn Palamas said smoothly. “Did you want some coffee?” She brought the tray back within reach.
Kirk took the cup. Being fifty thousand kilometers out from Talin and monitoring the ongoing peace developments had given the bridge of the Enterprise a different feel. He was glad to see her there.
“Why, Lieutenant, I don’t recall approving your transfer to yeoman.”
Palamas moved a fraction closer. “I didn’t request a transfer. It’s just that someone ran off without his breakfast this morning and I thought you could use some ... coffee.”
Kirk smiled. It had been a wonderful celebration and he was happy to have someone to share it with. “What I could use,” Kirk said, “is the five-day slow voyage out of this system.”
“I thought you didn’t like slow voyages.”
“Depends on whom I’m voyaging with,” Kirk said. Their eyes met and held.
“Excuse me, Captain,” Spock said from his station.
Kirk turned instantly.
“Sensor satellite five does not respond to its scheduled tightbeam data upload,” Spock reported.
Kirk stepped from his chair and had time to nod good-bye to Palamas as she headed for the turbolift. She nodded in return, understanding in her eyes. The mission and ship came first, always.
Kirk checked Spock’s readouts. “The satellite’s still in orbit. Is its power supply functional, Mr. Spock?”
“Without a tightbeam upload, the only way to be sure is with a sensor scan, Captain. But at this distance, the sensor probe [197] would spread enough so that residual radiation would reach Talin’s surface and might be detected.”
“Get Scotty up here to go over the controls. He rigged t
he satellites. He can fix them.”
“Very good, Captain. But if we are unable to regain contact with the satellite?”
Kirk looked at the image of Talin IV on the main screen—a world at peace. “Then we’ll go in for a look. Nothing to worry about down there now.”
The crisis abated, Kirk returned to his chair and the quartermaster’s report. He looked toward the turbolift as he stepped down to the central area, but the doors were closed and Palamas was gone. Oh, well, he thought, at least we’ve got the voyage out.
Chief Engineer Scott appeared on the bridge within two minutes of Spock’s call. “I don’t understand,” he said as he went to work at the engineering station, “those satellites were perfect. They’ll still be working fifty years on.”
“But one is not working now, Mr. Scott,” Spock said.
“I can see that, Mr. Spock, but there’s no reason for it. Look at these readings for yourself. It’s perfectly clear. The dual-looped power units were fully coiled on the two-fifty bypasses and the L-37s were securely crosslinked to all duotronics.”
Kirk leaned against the railing and listened to Spock and Scott trade technical jargon. He knew what almost everything they mentioned was but he wasn’t sure how any of it should go together. It had been a long time since some of his Academy classes.
After a few minutes of increasingly incomprehensible specifications had been cited and all controls had been adjusted and readjusted, the science officer and the chief engineer appeared to have hit an impasse.
“Should we go down and take a look?” Kirk asked.
“No need,” Scott said. “It’s the software.”
“We should,” Spock said. “The hardware appears to be at fault.”
Both men turned to look at Kirk. Now this is a classic no-win [198] situation, Kirk thought. “Sorry, Scotty, but if there’s the slightest chance that the satellite has been damaged somehow, we can’t risk it re-entering by accident. We’ll go in close enough so that we can scan for damage without flooding the Talin with sensor radiation, and once the equipment’s checked out we can come back here to work on the software at leisure.” Kirk hoped he had talked fast enough.
“Aye, Captain,” Scott said and smiled at Spock. “And I’d be more than willin’ to give you a hand with your reprogramming, Mr. Spock.”
“Thank you, Mr. Scott, but I believe that will not be necessary once the satellite has been repaired.”
Kirk left them to it and went to Sulu to request a change in orbit. But Sulu had overheard and the orbit was already plotted.
“Very good, Mr. Sulu, take us in.”
Chekov jumped up to take his place at the defense subsystems monitor and prepare countermeasures. Ensign Leslie left his environmental station to take over Chekov’s navigation post. Kirk sat back in his chair. All operations were smooth and routine as Talin grew in the viewscreen.
Kirk turned back to his screenpad and the QM’s report. The program warned that if current consumption was maintained, the ship’s stores of real chocolate would be exhausted within two months. It recommended encouraging a switch to consumption of synthesized chocolate. Kirk shuddered at the thought and vetoed that suggestion with a quick flick of his stylus.
“Coming up on satellite five,” Sulu announced.
Kirk glanced up. The curve of Talin filled the lower half of the screen. The satellite was too small to register though he could see its sensor echo on the astrogator screen. He signed off on the QM report and the week’s medical log synopsis appeared on the pad.
“Within focused sensor range, Mr. Spock,” Leslie announced.
“Scanning,” Spock said.
Kirk vetoed the medical log as well. All that was in it were ten [199] requests for Kirk, James T., to report to sickbay for a scheduled checkup or risk being put on the captain’s disciplinary list.
“All equipment checks out,” Spock said.
Kirk looked up. It had been subtle but there had been surprise in Speck’s tone.
Scotty smiled. “You’re sure I can’t be giving ye some help with the software, Mr. Spock?”
Spock shook his head. “The software does not seem to be the problem either, Mr. Scott. It is no longer resident in the satellite’s control circuits.”
Kirk put the screenpad down on the arm of his chair.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Spock?” Scott said.
“The control programs have been erased?” Kirk asked.
Spock nodded. “It is quite impossible, but all memory storage on the satellite is empty.”
“Explanation, Mr. Scott?”
“I ... have none at the moment, Captain. I don’t know how such a thing could be possible without ...”
“Without what, Mr. Scott?”
“Well, the password authorization ... the encryption codes ... the scrambling mechanisms. ... The satellites were prepared according to FCO specifications. They’re near impossible to program or extract information from by brute force.”
“Mr. Spock, any theories?”
“Absolutely none. A violent subspace pulse could have burned out the translator circuitry but we have not detected any phenomena of the required intensity. I shall have to—”
“Keptin! I have detected an energy burst on the planet’s surface.”
“What kind of energy?” Kirk scanned the screen. Just beyond the terminator on Talin’s nightside, he saw a brilliant white flare. “Helm, magnify. Is that it, Chekov?”
Chekov looked over at the screen. “Y—yes, sir.”
The viewscreen swam, then fixed on an enlarged image of the flare. Kirk could see pinpricks of red fire spring up around it. “What is it, Ensign?”
[200] “N—nuclear, Keptin. It is a forty megaton nuclear detonation.”
Kirk felt as if the ship had jumped to warp nine without warning. “Where?” he asked. On the screen, from the pattern of city lights along the coastline, the detonation appeared to be in the center of the Greens’ continent—their agricultural heartland, Palamas had called it.
Chekov read off the coordinates. “The Green nation state,” he said, voice choking. “Eastern administrative district. Subregion five.”
Kirk stared at the glowing spark of hellfire on the screen. An entire city might already be ashes.
“Those are the coordinates of a missile silo facility,” Spock said.
Kirk tensed. It was a military target. It could only mean one thing. “Why would the Browns launch a first strike now?” he asked.
“And why would they launch a first strike with only one warhead?” Spock said. He bent to his scope.
“Keptin! I have missiles launching! I have missiles launching!”
“Dear God,” Kirk whispered. A regular pattern of red dots had appeared across the Green continent. Hundreds of missiles were in flight.
“Go to red alert,” Kirk said. It was standard procedure, but he knew the missiles were not meant for his ship. He had Uhura kill the warning sirens on the bridge, but the red alert lights still flashed.
“Captain,” Spock said. “My sensors show that detonation occurred deep underground.”
“Depth, Spock? What was the depth?”
“Consistent with underground missile emplacement.”
“No!” Kirk said. He turned to the screen. More red dots. A thousand missiles in flight. “It was a mistake!”
Uhura cut in. “Communications intercept from the planet’s surface, Captain. Brown forces have detected the Green [201] launch.” There were tears in her eyes. “Captain, they’re retaliating.”
“Brown missiles are launching!” Chekov called out. “Brown missiles are launching!”
“It’s a mistake, you fools!” Kirk shouted at the viewscreen, at the dying planet. “Spock! It has to be! The Talin warheads are faulty. Only a sixty percent accuracy rate! The Greens were dismantling their missiles and accidentally set off one of their own damn warheads!”
Spock’s face was rigid. His eyes were fixed on the screen. “That would be ...
the most logical explanation.”
“A mistake!” Kirk slammed his fist against the side of his chair. “No!”
“Captain?” Spock asked.
“I will not allow a mistake to destroy this planet.” He burned with anger. This planet was going to survive. Any other fate for it was a personal insult.
“Captain, we can do nothing,” Spock said. But his words and his tone conveyed two different meanings. “The Prime Directive forbids us from interfering.”
“No!” Kirk snapped. “The Prime Directive forbids us from interfering in a planet’s normal development. Look what’s going on down there. Spock, that’s not the planet’s normal development. That’s an accident. An accidental detonation has triggered off an aberrant chain of events. The Talin are not doing this to themselves on purpose.”
Spock’s face flickered with an expression of pain, quickly hidden. “Captain, I agree you can make a case for this being a ... natural disaster ... an event similar to a runaway asteroid about to impact ... but still we cannot be seen to interfere.”
“But we won’t be seen, Spock.” Kirk’s mind raced. There had to be a way out. There always was a way out. Change the rules, change the goals, do anything. But find that way out. “We can do it. The Enterprise can do it. And the Talin won’t know what happened any more than they’ll ever know what set off that first [202] missile in its silo. We won’t be interfering, Spock. We’ll only be giving them some time. Some time to sort things out on their own. That’s all.”
The bridge crew froze at their stations. They would do anything their captain told them to do, but they knew their captain would tell them nothing if Spock did not agree.
Spock leaned on the railing.
Kirk held his hands out before him, imploring. “Spock ... think it through. It works. The Prime Directive is upheld. They won’t know what has happened.”
Spock spoke slowly. “Yes ... the Directive ... is upheld.” He squared his shoulders. “I shall prepare coordinates.” He turned to his scope.
Kirk gave orders in an endless stream. There was no time to stop to think or consider his actions. There was time only to do, to take action, to save a world.