Star Trek: The Original Series - 147 - Devil’s Bargain
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“So—the bargain.”
“Yes, the bargain,” said Kirk.
“We are not going to let you out of it, Captain,” said the voice from Spock.
Kirk turned toward the All Mother and addressed her, although he made sure Spock could see him and mentally translate.
“I understand,” Kirk answered. “I would regret losing the services of my first officer, and my friend.”
“This is apparent,” said the All Mother voice from Spock. “For this reason and others, I would like to propose an alteration to the terms.”
“I’m listening,” Kirk said.
“It seems that my children have had a grand time on this adventure. They want more. They want to become a starfaring species. I had hoped they would learn independence, but never in all my days did I expect this to happen. And it seems those who were expelled from your shuttle bay are the most adamant about this request. I understand that Slider Dan has even communicated with Spock about applying to the Starfleet Academy.”
“Many species have attended Starfleet Academy,” Kirk said.
“I for one do not understand the young anymore,” said the voice from Spock. “It is a good thing that my time will be done soon. Captain Kirk, if you will agree to back our request for membership in the Federation, and if you, personally, will see to it that all my children who wish it get due consideration for entry into this Starfleet Academy, I will release your first officer from his promise to remain among us.”
He was a starship captain, not a politician. In fact, Kirk had determined that if he were ever offered a promotion to rear admiral that took him away from his ship, he would turn it down.
What the All Mother was truly asking of him was for him to alter his plans for his own future. Did she realize that?
Kirk had the sneaking suspicion that not only did she realize it, she may have believed she was acting for his own good. Pushing yet another youngster to be all that he could be—even if the youngster in this case was already a Starfleet captain.
The last thing he ever wanted was to become some crusty admiral with a desk job on some starbase or on Earth. This was not the future Jim Kirk had envisioned for himself.
But if he were to fulfill the Horta’s request, this vision of the old admiral might have to become his future. Because the requests that the Horta were making of him could only be accomplished with a measure of power and say-so within Starfleet command. In fact, one might have to become a veritable Starfleet politician to do the things the Horta desired.
“Kirk, you have remained silent for some time,” said the voice from Spock. “Do you hesitate? Do we ask too much as a species? Are we not ready?”
“No,” said Kirk. “This has nothing to do with you. Of course, you’re ready. You’ve shown that you are prime candidates for admission into the Federation. As for the Academy—”
Decide, Kirk thought. You’ve made a thousand life-and-death decisions before. Now you’re presented with a devil’s bargain by a very intelligent alien negotiator. You may have to rethink your career plans, but you get to keep Spock. Make this one. Follow your instinct, your intuition.
“As for the Academy,” continued Kirk, “I will do my absolute best to make sure that your children get their chance. Yes, this is an agreement I can and will enter into.”
And with this Spock laughed—or, rather, the All Mother laughed through him. “Very well. I see that it is time to release Spock. His defenses against our group mind are perhaps not as strong as he believed them to be. Vulcan telepathy is an interesting phenomenon that we will have to study. We believe that we may have a few suggestions that we can make to help them improve this capacity and bring it to a level closer to our own.”
“I’ll be damned,” said McCoy. “A species has something to teach the Vulcans. Never thought I’d live to see the day. And I’ll bet the Vulcans didn’t either.”
Spock took a quick stumbling step forward and caught himself. He shook himself. “I am back,” he said. “Doctor, Vulcans are entirely receptive to receiving wisdom that another species has to impart.”
Kirk smiled. “You hear that, Bones? That is the sound of Vulcan humility. You could emulate it.”
“When pigs fly,” muttered McCoy, but he too was smiling.
Kirk shook his head. “Well, we should see who is coming back to Starbase Twelve with us.”
Before Spock could ask, one of the Horta moved forward. Slider Dan. He was joined by four others.
“Star Clan wishes to take you up on your invitation, Captain,” said Spock.
“Just like that?” asked Kirk.
“I believe they are quite sure,” replied Spock.
The same honor guard escorted them out, and with them were the five volunteers. After many tunnels and some stooping, they arrived at the mining headquarters. After exchanging pleasantries with the station director once more, Kirk flipped open his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise,” he said. “Eight to beam aboard, Mister Scott.”
“Eight, sir?”
“Yes. Lock on to my coordinates, and—” He looked over the five Horta who would accompany them and smiled ruefully. “I’ll explain when I see you, Mister Scott. Beam us up.”
• • •
The lift door on the bridge slid open, and McCoy stepped out. He approached Kirk with a data slate in his hand, and Kirk took it.
“Got in a full report via subspace on the rebuilding efforts on Vesbius,” McCoy said. “The biosphere is being restored at a more rapid rate than they had imagined possible. It seems that all of that biological knowledge they’ve accumulated over the years was very useful. Times are going to be very tough, but they’ll be all right in the long run. It’s going to be a changed planet.”
“Maybe those who didn’t appreciate it before will appreciate it more now,” said Kirk.
“That, if nothing else, marks the Vesbians as very human,” McCoy answered.
Spock spun around from his station. He crossed his arms and silently nodded in agreement with McCoy’s assessment. This seemed to rankle the doctor. “Spock,” McCoy said, “you seemed a bit wistful since we dropped the Horta off at Starbase Twelve. Pining over your lost children?”
The captain decided that a little teasing might be in order to lift the Vulcan’s mood. “Don’t worry, Spock,” said Kirk, “you would’ve made a terrible mother.”
“Hear, hear,” said McCoy.
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Gentlemen, undoubtedly you are correct. I might have served as an acceptable father figure, however. I believe I might have . . . grown into the role of patriarch. For all their excess of feeling,” he continued, “the Horta do know how to keep their emotions contained—unlike some I could name. And, as I’ve noted before, they possess remarkably ordered and logical minds.”
“Contained emotions? Ordered and logical minds? You’re starting to sound like a proud papa,” said Kirk.
“Hardly, Captain,” Spock replied, turning back to his station.
Kirk nodded and exchanged a glance with McCoy.
“Ahead, warp factor two, Mister Sulu.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Matthew Bynum, Abigail Manuel, and Meredith Frazier provided invaluable assistance. Margaret Clark, a fountain of Trek lore, was the perfect editor. And my wife, Rika Daniel, and my kids, Cokie and Hans, kept up my enthusiasm at all times. “Dad’s writing about Horta!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tony Daniel is a science fiction writer and author of Guardian of Night, Metaplanetary, Superluminal, and short stories such as “A Dry, Quiet War.” He is also an editor at Baen Books. He’s had multiple stories in “Year’s Best” anthologies, one of which, “Life on the Moon,” won the Asimov’s Reader’s Poll Award for year’s best story and was nominated for a Hugo Award.
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ISBN 978-1-4767-0047-2
ISBN 978-1-4767-0049-6 (ebook)
Cover art by Alan Dingman