telepath, it was one thing the active seeking and
conjoining of mind to mind.
For Spock, half-Vulcan, sojourner among
telepath and nontelepath alike, conjoiner with
Horta and Medusan and every manner of
human, it was something other. And with this mind most of all
a human mind at first unskilled, wary,
resistant, but long since nurtured in the
recognition and acceptance of at least one other min
tilde the Touch was unique unto itself.
When had Spock first touched Kirk's mind with his
own? Had it been as late as the Melkot, as the
spurious gunfight that his captain had known,
objectively, was unreal and yet had needed
Spock's unflagging conviction to enforce? Reaching his
mind, disciplined from infancy, into that untried
territory, Spock had first
encountered, of all things, a joke. A feeble one
at that.
"I think therefore l am. I think!" was how
Kirk greeted him, able to laugh from the edge of the
precipice, wanting the meld as a weapon against the
Melkot but fearing it at the same time. The poor
taste of the joke might have caused another Vulcan
mind to withdraw, to leave so frivolous a mind to its
own devices almost.
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But it was that very humor-in-crisis that had
fascinated Spock, made him hold on
for weal or for woe, as McCoy would say for as long
as they both should live.
A wisdom older than Surak decreed: nothing
that is is unimportant. Two minds met as one
would find the answer, no matter how seemingly
insignificant.
It might be nothing greater than a ship's log
entry.
Book Two
Chapter One
CAPTAIN S LOG, STARVATE 1305.4 .
. .
Captain James T. Kirk kept one finger
on the log recorder button while with his other hand
he set his knight in a direct offensive against
Gary Mitchell's king.
"Check!" he mouthed silently so the recorder
wouldn't pick it up. Pleased with himself. What
Mitchell mimed back was also best kept off the
record. Kirk tried to keep any trace of
smugness out of his voice as he resumed the log
entry.
"We are continuing our mapping of Sector
Epsilon Z3, scanning and cataloging
individual planets in previously charted solar
systems and seeking out possible additional
undiscovered star systems...."
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gary
making tentative passes at the board, mentally
trying moves and taking them back. Kirk's grin
widened, turned into a yawn as he returned to the
log entry.
"To date we have cataloged some seventeen
planets and four planetoids in a total of
thirteen star systems. Planets scanned have
proved to be Class D or lower. Following
standard procedure, we have not found it necessary to send a
landing party to a single one of
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these barren rocks. Needless to say the crew, and
I, will be grateful when this aspect of our mission
is complete. Estimate another three weeks, at
this rate, before that occurs."
Kirk yawned again, missed the furtive flick
of M tilde tchell's hand toward his queen and an
improbable kamikaze ploy.
"Final note: in view of the meticulous
scientific nature of stannapping, I have
placed Science Officer Spock in temporary
command for the duration.
"Besides," he said strictly for Gary's ears,
shutting off the recorder, "in view of Mr.
Spock's seemingly unlimited capacity for
detail"tilde ary laughed with him "it gives me more
time to polish my game. Problem, Mr.
Mitchell?"
"Not hardly, Captain."" Mitchell couldn't
give him the title without a touch of sarcasm. In a
flash his bishop had leaped up two levels,
capturing Kirk's queen and leaving him wide open.
"Check."
Kirk's jaw dropped.
"You son-of-a . . . How'd you do that?"
"Piece of cake, kid." It was Mitchell's
turn to grin, loll back in his chair with his hands
clasped behind his head. "I only have to do one thing at
a time."
Kirk scanned the board, saw no way out,
decided to make one final log entry before he conceded
defeat.
"Addition to bi-weekly log RE: personnel
changes. Yeoman Rand, please note and append
to respective personnel files:
McCoy, Leonard H.:
away on leave, Starbase 6 until further
notice. Piper, Mark: returned from leave pending
retirement approximately Stardate 1401.
Additions to crew effective immediately: Bailey,
David: navigational trainee, assigned
Engineering pending possible bridge assignment, and
Dehner, Eliz- abeth: psychiatrist, assigned
Sickbay. Ou."
"Met her yet?" Mitchell wanted to know,
watching Kirk stare at the board and sweat.
"You have, I suppose?" Kirk shot back.
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
Mitchell feigned a shiver.
"Never did care much for cold climates."
"Meaning there's at least one female in the
quadrant who can resist you," Kirk muttered,
pondering a counteroffensive as suicidal as Gary's
offensive.
"Why be greedy?" Mitchell asked. "I was
thinking of doing the charitable thing. Giving the lady a
chance to practice some of those healing instincts on one
of those grim, serious types who can't score for
himself."
"I can't imagine who you're talking about."
Kirk extricated himself from check, but less
flamboyantly than he'd hoped. He was only
postponing the inevitable. "The last time you tried
to fix me up his
"Oh, I wasn't thinking of you, son,"
Mitchell said laconically, clinching the game.
"Don't you think Spock would be more her type?"
Kirk didn't answer right away, wasn't at
all sure it was dignified for a captain to make
fun of his crew, even in the privacy of his own
quarters.
"Kind of makes you wonder what happens when
two immovable collide," Gary persisted, until
even Kirk had to laugh.
"Probably "The End of Everything,"" he
intoned, imitating one of their Academy
professors.
Their laughter was all out of proportion to the real
humor of what either had said. Why was it so easy
to make fun of Spock with Gary? And, more to the
point, Kirk wondered, why was it
necessary?
He'd been warned it was impossible to warm up to a
Vulcan, but that hadn't bothered him. He
didn't expect his officers to be his friends; the fact
that some like Gary and Bones McCoy
incidentally happened to be friends first and fellow
officers second was an unlookedfor bonus
. All
Kirk expected demanded from his crew
was efficiency, loyalty, and compliance to orders.
Spock possessed all of these to the nth degree.
Why did he still feel uncomfortable with him?
Was it the Vulcan's absolute humorlessness,
demon
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
strafed to him all too frequently in the earliest
weeks of the voyage? Was it something as
immature as jealousy, envy of the Vulcan's
effortless brilliance, his ability to do six things at
once without looking as if he were half trying, his
absolute accuracy in the most minute detail?
Was it the fact that it was impossible to know what he was
thinking, what went on behind that
impenetrable gaze, and in not knowing, one concluded that
he was looking right through this all-too-human captain
and finding him inadequate to the job?
Truth to tell, the captaincy still rested
uneasily on Kirk's shoulders; he
wondered if it would prove to be more of a burden, more
of a
straitjacket than he'd bargained for. Maybe
that was why he let himself get so silly when Gary was
around. To everyone else on board he was The
Captain if not infallible, then expected to give the
impression of being so. To Gary he was just a friend; there
was something about that too precious to lose
Odd how the thing you spent your life pursuing could
turn on you once you got it. Kirk had wanted
command. Wanted it? His entire life had been spent
in preparation for it. He'd eaten, slept, lusted
after it. A ship of his own. And now . . .
"Bridge to Captain Kirk. Spock here."
"Kirk here," he managed, with a warning look at
Gary. "What is it?"
"You asked to be notified should we encounter an
uncharted body of planetoid size or larger,"
Spock reported solemnly. "I believe we have
done so, sir."
"On my way." Kirk snapped the screen off.
"Coming, Mr. Mitchell?"
"After you, Captain.""
Spock stepped down from the command chair with a bit
too much alacrity, Kirk thought, as if
he could barely wait to return to his science station.
STRANGERS FROM THE-SKY
"Report," Kirk said over his shoulder,
settling into the centerseat.
"We are on elliptical approach to the
unrecorded planetoid, Captain," Spock
said, his concentration on the hooded viewer of the library
computer. "Passing over its compamon star now,
sir."
"Main screen," Kirk ordered, and squinted
into its brightness as Lee Kelso punched it up from the
helm. A too-bright sun dominated the screen,
obscuring the starfield and everything else in its
vicinity. "Mag pointfive on that screen, Mr.
Kelso. And give us some red dampers."
"Aye, sir," Kelso replied.
Reduced by half, its radiance considerably
lessened, the star became more comprehensible, but it was still
impossible to see past it.
"The star on the screen," Spock reported,
"was designated as Kapeshet by previous
expeditions. It was not previously known to have any
orbital bodies, however. Kapeshet is a
variable star with an outsize corona, which
may explain why the dependent planetoid has
thus far gone unnoticed."
"All right," Kirk said, rubbing his hands together
to contain his excitement. He was aware of Gary,
stepping down to relieve Farrell at navigation,
eager to be in on the discovery of a new planet, no
matter how ordinary. "Size and location of your
discovery, Mr. Spock?"
There was a silence, prolonged enough to make Kirk
wonder if Spock had heard him. He swung his
chair around to find Spock standing at attention in that
waiting posture of his, hands clasped behind his
back, an immovable object.
"I asked you a question, Mr. Spock," Kirk
said tightly.
- "Yes, sir. It was the nature of the question which
puzzled me. The planetoid is not "my"
discovery, sir. Ship's sensors were responsible for
its initial detection, consequently his
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
There was muffled laughter Mom somewhere nearby, a
waiting silence around the bridge. Kirk swung his
chair slowly in a 180-degree arc, assessing the
situation. It was common enough for an established
crew to give a new captain a certain amount of
ragging in the early weeks, but they'd survived a
crisis or two together and should be over all that by now.
Besides, most of this crew had signed on when he
did; only a few were remnants of Pike's
administration.
How many of them were in Spock's camp? Kirk
wondered, failing to understand this early that Spock had
no camp, and never would.
All right! Kirk thought, swinging the chair back in
Spock's direction.
"Very well, Mr. Spock," he said slowly, his
tone calculated to remind everyone on the bridge,
but particularly kits science officer, exactly who
was in charge here. "We've had our moment of levity.
Our comic relief, if you will. Now kindly answer
my question. Size and location of the object under
investigation"...'7
Spock's gaze did not falter under Kirk's
glare; it was almost as if he had no idea why
Kirk was annoyed. He did not refer to his
viewer, but recited his data from memory.
"Planetoid designated M-lSS, per
standard Murasaki Index annotation.
Circumference: 16,583 miles.
Mass: four times ten to the twenty-first power metric
tons. Mean density: 3.702.
Quantitatively about tw tilde thirds the
size of Earth. Present location: in elliptical
orbit around Kapeshet at 131 Mark 4,
sir."
Kirk made an effort not to be impressed.
"Very well. Schematic, Mr. Mitchell.
Let's have a look at it."
Mitchell plotted a schematic several
degrees ahead and put it on the screen. The ship
was almost through Kapeshet's corona; the planetoid
should become visible momentarily. The entire bridge
crew watched the
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
screen. The sight of the due -- t chunk of
rock would offer them some relief from fix previous
weelt's monotony.
"I don't see anything," Kirk said, voicing
everyone's impatience. Everyone but Spock, who
didn't seem capable of impatience. "Helm, are
you sure we're on course?"
"Affirmative," Kelso replied; "131
Mark 4, sir."
"Navigation?"
"Course confirmed," Mitchell said
laconically, checking his instruments with a tilt of his
head. "Except there's nothing out there."
Kirk frowned. Mitchell could be enviably
relaxed, but he was seldom careless.
"Are you sure?"
"No orbital body at 131 Mark 4,
Ca
ptain," Mitchell said, for once giving Kirk
the title without irony.
"Confirmed, sir." Kelso turned to look at
Kirk. "No planetoid at that location."
Kirk sat forward in the chair.
"Scan the area. Full sweep fifteen
degrees about. Maybe it's in a rapid orbit
or a retrograde. Maybe it's not in a fixed
orbit at all. A rogue or an asteroid."
"Unlikely, Captain," the Vulcan said behind
him without waiting to be consulted. "Planetoid was
monitored on its present course for one Standard
hour before verification."
It was precise standard procedure for the mapping Of
newly discovered planet). If Outlying eke,
Kirk had to concede, Spock was precise.
"All right," Kirk said with exaggerated
patience. "Then kindly tell me where it is now."
"Unknown, sir."
Kirk rose deliberately from the center seat,
walked slowly, stiffly to the rail before Spock's
station.
"Uhoh!" murmured Lee Kelso, who knew
that walk. He nudged Gary Mitchell in the
ribs. "Duck, Mitch! It's about to hit the
fan."
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said, carefully
enunciating each syllable. "What is today's
date?"
"Stardate 1305.4, Captain," Spock
answered immediately.
"You're certain it's not April Fool's
Day?"
"I beg your pardon, sir? I am not familiar
with the reference."
"No, Mr. Spock, I don't suppose you
would be," Kirk said long-sufferingly. "But tell
me, has anyone else on the bridge seen this
elusive planet of yours?"
"No, sir," Spock said quietly,
aware that he had somehow displeased this volatile new
commanding officer, though he was at a loss to explain
how this had happened. Nevertheless he must give an
answer that would only increase his captain's
displeasure. "Due to the interference from Kapeshet's
corona, I was monitoring on a
frequency few humanoids can see. Further,
I assumed that as commanding of fleer you wished to be the
first informed."
"I see," Kirk said slowly. That last sentence
was the tip-off, as he saw it. He had as good a
sense of humor as the next man, but. . . "Mr.
Spock, we're all a little fatigued with this
starmapping, and I can appreciate an attempt at
lightening the mood, when it's done well. But even the
best practical joke can be taken too far!"
Spock stood on his dignity. "Vulcans,
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