Star Trek - Blish, James - 05

by 05(lit)

"No longer!"

  "Rayna..."

  "No. Don't order me! No one can order me!"

  Kirk looked at her in awe, and it seemed as though Flint was feeling the same sensation. He extended a hand toward her, and she turned from it. He dropped the hand slowly, staring at her.

  "She's human," Kirk said. "Down to the last blood cell, she's human. Down to the last thought, hope, aspiration, emotion. You and I have created human life-and the human spirit is free. You have no power of ownership. She can do as she wishes."

  "No man beats me," Flint said coldly.

  "I don't want to beat you," Kirk said wearily. "There's no test of power here. Rayna belongs to herself now. She claims her human right of choice-to do as she will, think as she will, be as she will."

  Finally Flint gave a tired nod. "I have fought for that also. What does she choose?"

  "Come with me," Kirk said to her.

  "Stay," said Flint.

  There were tears in her eyes. "I was not human," she whispered. "Now, I love-I love..."

  She moved slowly forward toward the two waiting men. She seemed exhausted. She stumbled once, and then, suddenly, fell.

  McCoy was at her side in an instant, feeling for her pulse. Flint also knelt. Slowly, McCoy shook his head.

  It hit Kirk like a blow in the stomach. "What-hap-pened?" he asked.

  "She loved you, Captain," Spock said gently, "and also Flint, as a mentor, even a father. There was not time enough to adjust to the awful powers and contradictions of her newfound emotions. She could not bear to hurt either of you. The joy of love made her human; its agony destroyed her." In his voice there was a note of calm accusation. "'The hand of God was duplicated. A life was created. But then-you demanded ideal response- for which God still waits."

  Flint bowed his head, a broken man. "You can't die, we will live forever-together." He sobbed. "Rayna- child..."

  Kirk's hand moved, almost blindly, to his shoulder.

  Kirk sat at his desk in his own cabin, in half light, ex-hausted, brooding. The door opened and Spock came in.

  "Spock," Kirk said, and looked away.

  "The epidemic is reduced and no longer a threat. The Enterprise is on course 513 mark seven, as you ordered."

  "The very young and lonely man-the very old and lonely man-we put on a pretty poor show, didn't we?" He bowed his head. "If only I could forget..."

  His head went down on his arms. He was asleep.

  McCoy entered in full cry. "Jim, those tricorder read-ings of Mr. Flint are finally correlated. Methuselah is dying..."

  Then he noticed Kirk's position, and added in a low voice, "Thank Heaven-sleeping at last."

  "Your report, Doctor?" Spock said.

  "Flint. In leaving Earth; with its complex of fields in which he was formed and with which he was in perfect balance, he sacrificed immortality. He'll live the remainder of a normal life-span-and die."

  "That day, I shall mourn. Does he know?"

  "I told him myself. He intends to devote his last years, and his gigantic abilities, to improving the human condition. Who knows what he might come up with?"

  "Indeed," Spock said.

  "That's all, I guess. I'll tell Jim when he wakes up, or you can." He looked at Kirk with deep sympathy. "Considering his opponent's longevity-truly an eternal triangle. You wouldn't understand, would you, Spock? I'm sorrier for you than I am for him. You'll never know the things love can drive a man to-the ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances-the glorious failures, and the glorious victories-because the word love isn't written in your book."

  Spock was silent.

  "I wish he could forget her." Still silence. "Good night, Spock."

  "Good night, Doctor."

  Spock regarded Kirk for another silent moment, and then moved deliberately to lock the door behind McCoy, Then he returned to Kirk. His hands floated to Kirk's dropped head, fingertips touching. He said, very gently, "Forget.. "THE WAY TO EDEN

  (Arthur Heinemann and Michael Richards)

  Under Federation orders to observe extreme delicacy, the Enterprise had beamed aboard the six people who tad stolen the cruiser Aurora. The son of the Catullan Ambassador was one of them, and treaty negotiations between the Federation and the Ambassador were at a crucial phase. Clearly, none of the six had known much about operating a cruiser; in the attempt to escape, they had managed to destroy the cruiser, and had only been rescued by Scott's pinpoint skill with the Transporter.

  "Scotty, are they aboard?" Kirk asked his control chair intercom.

  "Aye, Captain, they are. And a nice lot, too."

  "Escort them to the briefing room for interview."

  There were other voices in the background, rising in an increasing hubbub. Suddenly a woman's voice became clearly audible above the others. "Why should we?"

  At that, Chekov's head jerked up sharply, his expres-sion one of recognition struggling with incredulity. Then a man's voice said, "Tell Herbert it's no go."

  All the voices chimed in with a ragged chant: "No go no go no go no go..."

  "What's going on?" Kirk asked.

  "They refuse, sir," Scott called over the chant.

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. They're just sitting on the floor, the lot of them. You can hear them yourself. Shall I send for Security?"

  "No, I'll come down. Sulu, take the con."

  He and Spock could hear the chanting continuing long before he reached the Transporter Room. The six were, indeed, "a nice lot." One wore a simple robe, the others were nearly naked or in primitive costumes, with flowers worn as ornaments and painted on their bodies. There were three girls and three men, all but the one in the robe in their early twenties. They were squatting on the floor with a clutter of musical instruments around them.

  "We are not in the mood, Herbert," one of the girls said; it was the same voice he had heard before. The others resumed the "No go" chant.

  "Which one of you is Tongo Rad?" Kirk shouted.

  The chant died down raggedly, and the newcomers looked curiously from Kirk to one of their number, a handsome humanoid who despite his costume had that intangible air which often goes with wealth and privilege. He got up and lunged forward, not answering, not quite insolent.

  "You can thank your father's influence for the fact that you're not under arrest," Kirk snapped. "In addition to piracy, you're open to charges of violating flight regula-tions, entering hostile space and endangering the lives of others as well as your own."

  "Hostile space?" Rad said.

  "You were in Romulan territory when we yanked you out."

  "Oh," said Rad. "I'm bleeding."

  "On top of which you've caused an interstellar in-cident that could destroy everything that has been negotiated between your planet and the Federation."

  "You got a hard lip, Herbert."

  "If you have an explanation, I'm prepared to hear it."

  Rad looked down at the older man in the robe, but there was no response. Rad sat down with the others and folded his arms.

  Kirk turned to Spock. "Take them to sickbay for medical check. There may be radiation injury from the Aurora explosion."

  The "No go" chant started up again immediately. Kirk started to shout, but Spock intervened.

  "With your permission, Captain." He put his hands together, index finger to index finger, thumb to thumb, forming an egg shape. "One."

  The group seemed to be surprised. The man in the robe rose. "We are one."

  "One is the beginning," Spock said.

  One of the boys, a rather puckish youth, said, "You One, Herbert?"

  "I am not Herbert."

  "He's not Herbert. We reach."

  Kirk was wholly bewildered. Evidently all this meant something, however, and had almost miraculously achieved calm and accord.

  "Sir," Spock said to the older man, "if you will state your purpose and objectives, perhaps we can arrive at mutual understanding.

  "If you understand One, you know our purpose.
"

  "I should prefer that you state it."

  The older man smiled faintly. "We turn our backs on confusion and seek the beginning."

  "Your destination?"

  "The planet Eden."

  "Ridiculous," Kirk said. That planet's a myth."

  Still smiling, the older man said, "And we protest against being harassed, pursued, attacked, seized, and Transported here against our wishes and against human law."

  "Right, brother," said the puckish youth.

  "We do not recognize Federation regulations nor the existence of hostilities. We recognize no authority but that within ourselves."

  "Whether you recognize authority or not, I am it on this ship," Kirk said, restraining himself with difficulty. "I am under orders to take you back to Starbase peace-ably. From there you will be ferried back to your various planets. Because of my orders you are not prisoners, but my guests. I expect you to behave as such."

  "Oh, Herbert," said the puckish youth, "you are stiff."

  "Mr. Spock, since you seem to understand these people, you will deal with them."

  "We respectfully request that you take us to Eden," the robed man said. Despite the politeness of the words, and the softness of his voice, his insolence was obvious.

  Kirk ignored him. "When they're finished in sickbay, see that they are escorted to the proper quarters and given whatever care they need."

  "Yes, Captain."

  "We respectfully request that you take us to Eden."

  "I have orders to the contrary. And this is not a pas-senger ship."

  "Herbert," said the girl who had first spoken. The others picked it up and another ragged chant followed Kirk as he went out: "Herbert Herbert Herbert Herbert..."

  He was in a simmering rage by the time he returned to the bridge. Taking his seat, he said, "Lieutenant Uhura. Alert Starbase we have aboard the six who took the space cruiser Aurora. And that the cruiser itself was regrettably destroyed."

  "Aye, sir."

  "Personal note to the Catullan Ambassador. His son is safe."

  "Captain, sir," Chekov said hesitantly. "I believe I know one of them. At least I think I recognized her voice. Her name is Irina Galliulin. We were in Starfleet Academy together."

  "One of those went to the Academy?" Kirk said in-credulously.

  "Yes, sir. She dropped out. She-" Chekov stopped. Under his accent and his stiffness, it was apparent that he still felt a painful emotion about this girl.

  Kirk looked away as Spock entered, and then back to Chekov. "Do you wish to see her? Permission granted to leave your post."

  "Thank you, sir." He got up fast and left; another crewman took his post.

  Kirk turned to Spock. "Are they in sickbay?"

  "Yes, Captain."

  "Do they seriously believe that Eden exists?"

  "Many myths are founded on some truth, Captain. And they are not unintelligent. Dr. Sevrin..."

  "Their leader? The man in the robe?"

  Spock nodded. "Dr. Sevrin was a brilliant research engineer in acoustics, communications and electronics on Tiburon. When he started the movement, he was dis-missed from his post. Young Rad inherits his father's extraordinary abilities in the field of space studies."

  "But they reject that-everything this technology pro-vides-and look for the primitive."

  "There are many who are uncomfortable with what we have created," Spock said. "It is almost a biological rebellion. A profound revulsion against the planned com-munities, the programming, the sterilized, artfully balanced atmospheres. They hunger for an Eden, where Spring comes."

  "We all do, sometimes," Kirk said thoughtfully. "The cave is deep in our ancestral memories."

  "Yes, sir."

  "But we don't steal cruisers and act like irresponsible children. What makes you so sympathetic toward them?"

  "It is not so much sympathy as curiosity, Captain. A wish to understand. And they regard themselves as aliens in their worlds. It is a feeling I am familiar with."

  "Hmm. What does Herbert mean?"

  "It is somewhat uncomplimentary, sir. Herbert was a minor official notorious for his rigid and limited pattern of thought."

  "I get the point," Kirk said drily. "I shall endeavor to be less limited in my thinking. But they make it difficult"

  There were only five of the six in the examining room when Chekov came in. Four were sprawled about lis-tening to the puckish youth, who was tuning something that looked like a zither. Apparently satisfied, he bit a progression of chords and began to sing softly.*

  *I much regret that I cannot reproduce the music which went with this script; it was of very high quality. The script I have does not name the composer.-J.B.

  Looking for the new land-

  Losing my way-

  Looking for the good land-

  Going astray-

  Don't cry.

  Don't cry.

  Oh I can't have honey and I can't have cream

  But the dream that's in me, it isn't a dream.

  It'll live, not die.

  It'll live, not die.

  I'll stand in the middle of it all one day,

  I'll look at it shining all around me and say

  I'm here!

  I'm here!

  In the new land,

  In the good land,

  I'm here!

  "Great, Adam," one of the others said. There was a murmur of applause.

  Chekov cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Is Irina Galliulin with you?"

  "Getting her physical," Adam said. He hit a chord and sang:

  I'll crack my knuckles and jump for joy-

  Got a clean bill of health from Dr. McCoy.

  "You know Irina?" someone else said. Chekov nodded.

  "Say, tell me," said Tongo Rad. "Why do you people wear all those clothes? How do you breathe?"

  Nurse Chapel came out of the sickbay with two medics. She looked over the group and pointed to Sevrin, "You're next."

  Sevrin sprawled, oblivious. Chapel nodded to the two medics, who stepped forward and, picking up the limp form, dragged it into sickbay. A moment later, Irina came out.

  "Irina," Chekov said.

  She did not seem to be surprised. She smiled, her strange, habitual smile, which rarely left her-but there was watchfulness behind it.

  "Pavel Andreievich," she said calmly. "I had thought we might encounter each other."

  "You knew I was on the Enterprise?"

  "I had heard."

  "Irina-why-" He stopped, all eyes upon him. "Come."

  He led her out into the corridor, which was empty. He stared at her for a moment, taking in the bizarre, brief costume, the long hair, the not-quite-untidiness. When he spoke, it was almost with rage.

  "How could you do this to yourself? You were a scientist. You were a-a decent human being. And now look at you!"

  "Look at yourself, Pavel," she said calmly.

  "Why did you do it?"

  "Why did you?"

  "I am proud of what I am. I believe in what I do. Can you say that?"

  "Yes." Momentarily her voice was sharp; then the smile returned. Chekov took her arm and they walked toward the lounge. "We should not tear at each other so. We should meet again in joy. Today, when I first knew it was your ship that followed us, I thought of you, I wondered what I would find in you. And I remembered so much. In spite of that uniform, I still see the Pavel I used to know. Are you happy in what you do?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I accept what you do."

  "You even talk like them."

  Yeomen passed them, turning to look at the odd couple. Chekov led Irina into the lounge. "Why did you go away?" he asked.

  "It was you who went."

  "I came back to look for you. I looked. I looked. Where did you go?"

  "I stayed in the city. With friends."

  "You never felt as I did. Never."

  "I did."

  "You don't have it in you to feel so much. Even when we were close you weren't with me. Y
ou were off thinking of something else." She shook her head, the smile still there. "Then why did you stay away?"