The Unsettling Stars

by Alan Dean Foster

  “In a twinkling!” A flurry of liquid gestures indicated that all of the oldest youngster’s companions were in agreement. “What Perenorean could pass on the opportunity to learn so many new things all at once?”

  McCoy clearly approved. “These kids are a teacher’s dream!”

  Spock’s reaction was considerably more reserved. “Perhaps, Doctor… perhaps. In some ways they remind me of my young self. I was always striving to acquire new knowledge, to master as many disciplines as possible. And yet I sense a difference here that I cannot yet properly define.”

  “I’m sure it’ll come to you.” McCoy guffawed softly. “It always does, whether those around you want it or not.”

  “Maybe you can visit us another time.” Kirk smiled paternally at the visibly disappointed youngsters. “Maybe when we have a chance to clear that kind of extensive visit with your parents.”

  “That is not necessary.” Like her companions, the young female displayed a maturity beyond her age. “The acquiring of new knowledge supersedes everything, including birthing authority.”

  Kirk’s smile changed to a slight frown. The desire to gain new knowledge was all well and good and to be admired. But the intensity of interest being shown by these youngsters carried with it a whiff of the fanatical. “Nevertheless, that’s the way it would have to be.”

  “Oh, I see.” The eldest of the trio gestured comprehendingly. “While the granting of such permission is not a requirement of our society, it is of yours.” He stepped back. “We must of course live with our disappointment and defer to your superior cultural stance.”

  The three officers took their leave of the youngsters. As Kirk was walking away he looked back to see that they had returned to their macabre building. Squinting at the replica of the navigation tower, he marveled at how they had been able to erect such a haphazard yet sturdy structure out of such improbable building materials—and without any glue or bonding agent of any kind. Not to mention any apparent squeamishness. Plainly, Perenorean youth were as adept at improvisation as their parents.

  Improvisation. Ever since they had been forced off course only to subsequently find themselves attacked and pursued by the Dre’kalak, these people had been compelled to improvise. True, without the intervention of the Enterprise and its crew they might very well have been destroyed by the Dre’kalak. But ever since that providential rescue they had managed everything, from contact with the SiBoronaans to establishing this first settlement. The Enterprise’s crew had helped, but it was plausible the Perenoreans could have done it without them.

  That was a good thing, Kirk told himself. The possibility that, after all they had been through, the colonists might fail was one he preferred not to contemplate. It was too depressing. Much more pleasant to envision a burgeoning and successful Perenorean civilization taking root on DiBor, ready to put themselves forward as friends to the Federation and helpmates to the SiBoronaans.

  “You should be pleased, Spock. As a refugee yourself you’ve been instrumental in the survival of refugees of another species.”

  “I am pleased, Captain.” Striding along beside him the science officer appeared even more contemplative than usual. “Yet something continues to trouble me. No, that is not entirely accurate. It persists with me though its specifics are not yet defined.”

  “Well, that’s clear as crystal,” McCoy noted sardonically.

  They were due to beam up soon. Kirk was looking forward to a full meal and some solid sleep. The latter would come easily now that this latest threat to the colony had been dealt with, even though they weren’t exactly sure of all the technical details of how it had been done.

  “What’s on your mind, Spock?”

  The science officer made a sweeping gesture to take in their immediate surroundings: the rapidly disappearing mounds of dead flyjaws, the prefabricated buildings that were going up all around them with astonishing speed, the vehicles and machines that had been transported down from the Eparthaa and put to work almost immediately.

  “Everything we have seen and experienced of Perenorean culture leads me to believe that they come from a society where conflict is avoided and belligerence is scorned. They are nonaggressive, dislike fighting, and above all else seek to expand and enhance their existing store of knowledge. Whose extent, I should point out, remains unknown to us. And yet…” His voice drifted off.

  “And yet?” Kirk prompted him.

  “There remain contradictions that puzzle me. Consider the effectiveness the Perenoreans demonstrated in holding off an assault by three warships of a hostile species. Three warships, Captain. Given a similar set of circumstances, how many Federation colony vessels would be capable of doing the same?”

  “They were on the verge of being blown to bits when we showed up,” McCoy pointed out.

  “Quite so, Doctor. Had the Enterprise not arrived when it did, I am quite convinced not a single Perenorean would now be preparing to make their home on this SiBoronaan moon. Yet the Perenoreans’ accomplishment prior to our intervention cannot be overlooked and must be taken into account.”

  “Into account for what, Spock?” Kirk stepped to one side to give a peculiar single-tracked Perenorean vehicle room to pass silently by.

  “The contradiction that exists between their declared pacifism and their ability to partake effectively in combat. Consider: first their colony ship, utilizing only defensive weaponry, survives for a long time battling to a standstill a trio of enemy warships. Later, on this moon, and only when forced to do so, they produce a device called a lagarouth that turns out to also function quite well as a weapon.” He gestured at the rapidly gentrifying surroundings. “Now, when confronted with a massive assault by flocks of native aerial predators, they bring forth still another new device. Designed to manipulate the local weather for the benefit of agriculture and other nonhostile purposes, it too has more forceful capabilities—to which hundreds of dead flyjaws can attest.” He turned to face Kirk. “I hardly need point out how useful such a new and as yet incomprehensible technology would prove in a battlefield situation.”

  McCoy shrugged. “Just because they have equipment in their colonizing stores that can be jury-rigged for defensive purposes doesn’t mean any of it was designed and built with such a dual purpose in mind.”

  “In mind, indeed, Doctor. None of this is what deeply troubles me.”

  Kirk frowned. “Then what is bothering you, Spock?”

  The science officer’s tone darkened slightly—though not emotionally. “Embraced by their exceptional and admirable actions, Captain, I find myself wondering what other ‘dual purpose’ technology they possess that has yet to be revealed to us.”

  McCoy made a disgusted sound. “I didn’t know Vulcans were subject to paranoia.”

  Spock raised one eyebrow. “Not paranoia, Doctor. Merely prudent curiosity based on what we have observed thus far.”

  Kirk deliberately picked up the pace. “As soon as we’ve conveyed our formal final farewells to both the SiBoronaans and the Perenoreans, we’ll be on our way out of here. We have an interrupted mission to resume.”

  Spock halted so abruptly that his two companions nearly stumbled in response. “Captain. I am intrigued. I ask permission to remain here on DiBor, both to offer continuing advice to the colonists and to delve more deeply into a slowly coalescing thesis of mine.”

  “Denied and denied, Mister Spock.” Kirk’s tone was unyielding. “As to the first, the Perenoreans have their new friends the SiBoronaans to help them. As to the second, I need my science officer on the Enterprise. Your presence and your advice are not replaceable.”

  “I am not swayed by flattery, Captain.”

  Kirk stared past him. “It wasn’t flattery, Spock. It was a statement of fact. Your request to remain behind is denied. You will beam back aboard and we’ll hear no more about it.” Seeing the science officer stiffen, Kirk added, “You can write up your observations in a formal report and we’ll see that they get to the appropriate
Starfleet division for in-depth analysis as soon as possible. If the Federation decides to delve deeper into your theory, I’ll see about recommending a temporary leave of absence so you can join any approved investigations.”

  Spock relented. “Thank you, Captain. While I would rather stay here to pursue such studies, I understand.” He glanced at McCoy. “I suppose that my presence on board the Enterprise is indeed irreplaceable.”

  Refusing to take the bait, McCoy said nothing.

  * * *

  Final farewells took place in the colony’s administration building—the first structure in the new colony to be finished, it had been completed with astonishing speed. In the absence of the Perenorean equivalent of a traditional meeting hall, Kirk, Spock, and Uhura found themselves standing on a paved area in front of the gleaming new white and blue structure. As with Perenorean attire, the building was swathed with swirls of alternating color.

  Perenorean dignitaries crowded close to one another, each hoping for a chance to bid their Federation saviors a personal goodbye. Taell was there, as was Masteresque Founoh and many of the other senior Perenorean operatives the Enterprise officers had come to know over the preceding days.

  They could have simply bid the colonists and their SiBoronaan benefactors farewell from orbit. But Uhura felt the formalities were important. Not only because they might represent the last contact for some time between the Federation and a newly contacted sentient species, but because they would also serve to further cement relations between the Federation and the SiBoronaans.

  The three Starfleet officers stood in the mild warmth of SiBor’s sun and took turns accepting gifts from both species. Traditional arts from the SiBoronaans, exquisite and sometimes baffling abstract constructions from the Perenoreans. Then Thirty-four Narlekt, the appointed permanent SiBoronaan government representative on DiBor, trundled forward and launched into a long, rambling speech lauding the efforts of the Federation to assist a people in need. Following this, Taell eloquently praised the gift of territory from their hosts.

  He spoke, Uhura noted admiringly, in perfect SiBoronaan. How the Perenorean commander had found the time to master the difficult language while still overseeing the landing of settlers and supplies and supervising the establishment of the colony she could not imagine. SiBoronaan was not an easy tongue. She felt she would have needed at least a year to match his fluency.

  When he had finished, the leaderesque of the Eparthaa turned to the trio of watching Starfleet officers and switched effortlessly from SiBoronaan to Federation Standard.

  “We have already told what we owe you. At present, simple words are all we have to offer in way of thanks.” Spreading his arms and bending them in ways no human or Vulcan could duplicate, he took in the nearly completed colony administration building and the rest of their surroundings. “We hope one day soon to be able to offer the Federation a more solid example of our gratitude. Until then, we give freely all that we have and all that we will have: the knowledge accumulated by our species, our poor skills, and our friendship.” His left arm stabbed skyward and his voice rose to a shout. It was, Kirk reflected, one of the few times since encountering the species that he had heard a Perenorean raise its voice.

  “Arekalvo!”

  “Arekalvo, arekalvo!” The cry and the sky-reaching arm thrust were repeated by every Perenorean present. Since neither Taell’s declamation nor the crowd’s shouts were directed toward him, Kirk’s translator could not quite execute the translation. Kirk leaned toward his communications officer.

  “I’m assuming they’re not yelling ‘Federation go home.’ ”

  Uhura smiled while mentally running through her laboriously acquired store of Perenorean words. “It means something like, ‘We admire,’ or ‘We praise.’ As in ‘All praise to you!’ An exclamation indicative of general glorification. I remember chatting with Chekov once about Russian. They have a word, slava, that connotes approximately the same feeling. There’s a whole chorus during the ‘Procession of the Nobles’ in a Rimsky-Korsakov opera, Mlada, that repeats the word over and—”

  “Over.” Kirk cut her off. “I get it.” He surveyed their surroundings. “Rescuing the Perenorean colonists, striking a bargain with the SiBoronaans to let them settle on this moon, everything that’s happened here since, would make a pretty good opera of its own, I think.”

  She eyed him. “Why don’t you write it, Captain? The ship’s entertainment software would help a great deal and…”

  “Several reasons, Lieutenant. First, as captain of the Enterprise I don’t have the time. Second, I can’t sing worth a damn. And third—I don’t like opera.”

  “Oh, well, then.” Her smile broadened. “Other than that…”

  He nodded. “Look at the Perenoreans. They’re planning something.” He tensed slightly.

  The colonists were indeed planning something. As one, they turned toward the trio of Starfleet officers and in unison executed the same full-body genuflection that Taell had performed in front of the SiBoronaan leadership when they had first arrived. Every Perenorean present dropped to their knees and bent forward, their spines forming dozens of body arcs all around the administration complex. They remained like that until an increasingly embarrassed Kirk admonished them to rise.

  “Okay, you’re welcome, that’s fine, that’s enough.” Approaching the prone Taell he reached down and took the leaderesque by one arm to urge him upward. “You’ve already thanked us more than is reasonable.”

  Indicating that he understood, Taell stuck out his right hand. The Perenoreans had been almost as quick to pick up human gestures as human speech. Taking the proffered hand of friendship, Kirk shook it gently. The leaderesque’s grip was firm without being overbearing, the extra two fingers involved notwithstanding.

  “Will we ever see you again, Captain Kirk?” Looking past him, Taell added, “Or you, Commander Spock, or you, Lieutenant Uhura?”

  “It’s not up to us.” Kirk was quick, and grateful, to pass the buck. “We go where Starfleet tells us to go. If by chance our orders should bring us back to this part of the quadrant, we will of course make every effort to arrange an official visit.” He gestured past the leaderesque. “I for one will be very curious to see how you progress.”

  “Intensely curious,” Spock added without elaboration.

  The last image Kirk had of Taell was of the leader of the colonists waving in a very human-like manner as the transporter beam took hold of them.

  After the greenery, bustle, and fresh air of the colony, stepping off the transporter platform back on the Enterprise was a shock to the system as well as the mind. It always was, Kirk reflected as Spock and Uhura headed straight for the bridge.

  The familiar and welcome face behind the transporter stepped out from the console to greet him. “How did it go, Captain?”

  “Fine, Mister Scott. No, better than fine. I believe this little diversion from our mission has resulted in the cementing of relations between the Federation and not one but two sentient alien species. While neither is likely to strike fear into the hearts of potential Federation enemies, an ally is an ally. One of them is deliberate and resolved, the other energetic and”—he hesitated briefly—“still something of an enigma. But steadfast to a fault, I think.” He clapped the chief engineer on the shoulder. “We should be back on our planned course and schedule in a few days. After what we’ve accomplished here, I don’t think Starfleet will begrudge us the detour.”

  * * *

  Spock was waiting for Kirk on the bridge. As soon as Kirk appeared and before he could make his way to the command chair, Spock drew him aside.

  “Captain, may I have a word with you?”

  “Of course, Mister Spock.” Still basking in the lingering glow from the gratifying farewell ceremony, Kirk was determined not to let the science officer’s characteristic dourness spoil the mood. He allowed himself to be drawn over to the science station.

  Instead of a tridimensional projection, Spock had restric
ted the current large readout to a screen. Kirk immediately recognized an enhanced long-range image of the new Perenorean colony. The administration building in its center was unmistakable, as was the bluff on which the settlement sat, the nearby forest and plains, and the slow-moving river that wound through them.

  “Nice view,” he commented. “What about it, Mister Spock?”

  “Keep looking, Captain.”

  The science officer adjusted his instrumentation, widening the view. The settlement shrank rapidly, as did the rocky promontory on which it was being constructed. More of the river became visible, along with several of its tributaries. Then it too shrank from a broad watercourse into a narrow winding stream, and finally a mere rivulet. As Spock manipulated the controls the downward view shifted to the east and began to zoom in on another part of the DiBoronaan landscape. A clearing appeared in a deep forest atop a wide plateau. The view was magnified even more. Thickets of more massive vegetation stood out among shorter growths. So did individual shapes within the clearing. Kirk did not need his science officer to interpret them for him. He eyed his science officer querulously.

  “Buildings?”

  “Probable, Captain, as they are still under construction.”

  Kirk regarded the stolid Vulcan. “The SiBoronaans have outposts of their own on parts of their moon.”

  Spock shook his head. “Indeed they do, Captain. However, this is not one of them. I could increase the magnification still further but at this distance resolution would suffer. Anyway it is not necessary. In style and design, these are clearly Perenorean in origin.”

  Kirk considered. “Okay—so the Perenoreans are setting up a second settlement. According to the terms of their treaty with the SiBoronaans they have every right to do so. No one expects them to confine themselves to one community, much less one part of the moon.”

  The science officer studied his friend evenly. “It does not trouble you that no word of this second settlement was mentioned to us?”