“Why, of course!” The chief engineer spread his arms wide. “Where better to release a wealth of new ideas than in the Federation!”
Kirk frowned. “The Perenoreans are already well established on DiBor, Mister Scott. Moving them into the Federation would mean uprooting everything they’ve managed to accomplish thus far.”
“Nay, Captain,” Scott argued. “The ones who have put down roots should stay. But if we offer some of the best and most active minds among them the chance to move back and forth between their new home and a suitable location in the Federation, I think that they would jump at the chance. Mister Spock?”
The science officer considered this. “Perhaps that is indeed what the irrepressible creativity of the Perenorean demands.” He turned to Kirk. “With regard to Mister Scott’s suggestion, I urge caution, Captain. But I suppose escorting a small delegation of the Perenoreans’ brightest and most fecund minds to Earth could be a solution. Removing them from the current equation might well serve to dampen the speed with which their people are apparently taking control of activities on SiBor. It would also provide an excellent opportunity for us to study them in greater depth. The time that some of them spent aboard the Enterprise was insufficient to develop a complete picture of any one individual, much less how they act in groups when exposed to alien surroundings. I would welcome the opportunity to study with them on a more extensive basis.”
Uhura chimed in. “And I could produce a better lexicon of the Perenorean language than what I’ve been able to compile. There’s no better way to learn what someone means than to spend extended time in their company listening to them speak their native tongue.”
Spock coughed slightly. “I must concur with Lieutenant Uhura’s assessment.”
The active chatter and deep glottal stops of SiBoronaan conversation filled the shuttlebay. Though their hosts seemed to have forgotten them, the circumstances that had brought them aboard continued to generate so much excitement among the delegation that they did not notice any oversight.
“That’s it, then.” Kirk turned back to the SiBoronaan delegation. Seeing their host beckon for their attention, they ceased their conversation. “Based on what you’ve told us, we see no way short of outright hostilities that can prevent the Perenoreans from continuing to make contributions to your society. We can’t turn back the clock.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “What we propose is to shift the attention of the Perenoreans, especially that of their most helpful and intelligent individuals, away from SiBor and to the Federation itself. SiBor is only one world. The Federation is comprised of hundreds. There will be ample opportunities within it for the energetic Perenoreans to contribute all the ideas they wish.
“To convince them that it’s better to share these with all the peoples of the Federation rather than just the SiBoronaan, we plan to ask them to put together a delegation to visit Earth. Once their attention is drawn elsewhere, we believe they will be inclined to direct less of their immediate attention to SiBor. We will insist that they stop, step back, and teach you everything you need to know to use, run, and create at their level. Your people will regain control of your society.”
While harsh to the human ear, the collective squalling this proposal ignited among the SiBoronaan delegation was the clamor of approval. Only Six Jol was reluctant.
“But will the Perenoreans agree to this? To remove their most oppressing—your pardon, their most ‘helpful’—people from our world in order to become part of this delegation you describe?”
“As someone who lives to seek new knowledge,” Spock told the reluctant SiBoronaan, “I do not see how beings of the Perenorean temperament will be able to refuse.”
“And,” Kirk added, “when they come back and report on the opportunities that exist within the Federation, more of their most innovative individuals will want to transfer to where they can exploit their suggestions to the fullest. Those who remain should be too busy teaching and maintaining their new home.”
“One hopes,” the science officer cryptically whispered.
This time the caucus among the delegates was brief. Four Amek turned back to Kirk.
“We find in favor of your initiative, Captain Kirk. If there is anything you require of us, anything we can do to aid in its implementation, you have only to ask.”
Kirk smiled. “I think we will handle it.”
“We wish to learn to improve ourselves, and our planet. Not to be treated like second-class citizens,” Amek replied disconsolately.
“Easy there, now. We’re goin’ to fix it for you.” Reaching out as if to give the delegate a friendly pat on the shoulder, Scott had to awkwardly withdraw his hand as he realized that the SiBoronaans were wholly lacking in this particular physiological feature. He settled for a brief, cheering smile.
Kirk watched the SiBoronaan delegation shuffle back to the transporter room. There was no reason to suppose that Starfleet would not be equally gratified. The SiBoronaans had arrived agitated and angry. They were departing mollified, if not entirely appeased, convinced that the Federation intended to immediately address their unexpectedly difficult state of affairs. This had been accomplished without threats of violence. And if Mister Scott’s suggestion could be carried out, there would be no violence. The SiBoronaans would be content, the Perenoreans would be happy, and Starfleet would be satisfied. There was only one potential problem.
“Spock, are you sure the Perenoreans will agree to gather together their best people and send them away from the colony and off to Earth? Or to wherever Starfleet thinks appropriate?”
“I don’t see why they would turn down such an offer. Their new home here is established. Too established, according to the SiBoronaans. The Perenoreans may want a diversion as badly as the SiBoronaans need it.”
Kirk nodded contentedly. “It should be interesting having more than a couple of them on board ship for an extended period of time. Although we’re more advanced than the SiBoronaans, we still might learn a thing or two.”
“Indeed we might, Captain. We should be open-minded about such things.”
“Why, Spock, haven’t you learned by now that I have an open mind on everything?”
The science officer’s brows drew together. “Do I detect a reference in your comment to something other than the matter at hand, Jim?”
* * *
Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beamed down to DiBor. They soon found themselves sitting on gracefully curving Perenorean benches in a lightly silvered but otherwise transparent sphere that ballooned from the top floor of the completed administration center. Looking around, the doctor could not stop babbling about the bubble.
“This is an amazing piece of engineering.” Peering down, he could see the busy street directly below. “It hardly seems strong enough to support a cat, let alone the four of us.” He returned his gaze to Taell, their host. “You’ve had a haircut. Or a fur cut.”
Taell’s golden eyes glanced down at his right shoulder, which was exposed between two folds of the mauve-and-black fabric that was wrapped tightly around his body. The patterns presently etched there were indeed different from those he had sported when contact had first been made with the Enterprise. His mouth flexed.
“You have a remarkable eye for physical detail, Masteresque.”
McCoy shrugged. “I’m a doctor. Taking note of physical variation is my job.”
Spock was equally intrigued by the ethereal alien engineering. “If I may ask, Taell, what is this material that forms our present enclosure?”
The leaderesque of the Perenoreans set aside the tall cylinder he had been holding with four pad-tips of his right hand. “The nearest human term I can find in my poor, limited vocabulary is ‘gossamer.’ I do not think our name, which is specific to the Perenorean science of materials engineering, can translate better. We call it ku!ralpt.”
McCoy pursed his lips. “I’ll stick with gossamer, thanks.”
“It is fashioned by a special machine,” Taell continued. “W
ithin the apparatus, the raw materials are blended in a flux and then quickly extruded into the desired shape.” Reaching out, he drew several finger pads down the inside of the nearly perfect transparent fabric. In their wake, spreading ripples of silver appeared briefly before fading from view. “It will flex slightly with the weather and bond instantly to any construction material. I am told this involves amalgamation at the molecular level. But I am not a materials physicist.”
Kirk began smoothly, “We have a proposition for you. One with which the SiBoronaans already concur.”
“Ah, our great benefactors!” As the leaderesque sat back on his bench McCoy feared that Taell was going to fall over backward. But the Perenorean’s multiple joints allowed him to “relax” in ways that would have put a human at risk of bodily injury. “I fear they are distressed with and confused by certain aspects of our feeble attempts to repay them for what they have done for us.”
And what you’ve done to them, Kirk thought. “A number of their representatives were quite upset. We think we may have come up with a solution that will satisfy their concerns while opening a whole realm of new prospects for the Perenoreans.”
Taell straightened on his bench. “We are always eager to hear of new opportunities. Especially those that might allow us to help those who have helped us.”
“Then you should be pleased with this one.” Kirk set his libation aside. It looked like a simple metal utensil; however, the gleaming Perenorean drinking cylinder had managed to change the taste of its contents three times since it had been handed to him. Maybe the drink possessed the ability to change flavors all by itself. He made a mental note to inquire once the meeting had concluded.
“We would like to extend an invitation to two dozen of your best and most energetic people, each experts in their own field, to come and visit Starfleet Headquarters on Earth.” He fought to keep any hint of condescension out of his voice. “At the same time, the SiBoronaans want to learn everything about the… gifts you’ve given them. They insist, and we agree, that a pause in your generosity is necessary, until they can understand them and work beside you.”
Taell appeared overwhelmed by the offer. “This is a wonderful opportunity! I cannot convey enough thanks for this expression of trust and generosity. I am sure my colleagues will approve.” He indicated the street and new buildings that had taken shape outside the bubble. “As you have seen, the colony here is well established, with two others already striving to match the First Settlement in energy and expansion. I am certain we could spare some of our best people to visit Earth to observe and to learn.” His voice fell slightly. “I only worry about how our great friends the SiBoronaans will manage in our absence. They seem to have some difficulty managing some of the assistance we have given to them.”
McCoy controlled his expression as well as his voice. “I think they’ll muddle through somehow. Don’t underestimate them.”
Taell looked shocked. “Oh no, never, never! The SiBoronaans are a brilliant, compassionate, persevering people. They just need a little bit of support here, a line of information there, which we are thrilled to be able to supply.”
“I know it will be hard on them to have their Perenorean supervisors take a leave of absence,” Kirk declared dryly, “but as Doctor McCoy points out, they should be able to get by.” He looked to his left. “Spock? You’re being mighty quiet. Thoughts?”
“Hmm?” The Vulcan drew himself back from whatever his contemplations had been. “Oh, to be sure, Captain.”
Kirk frowned. Whatever had been bothering Spock for some time now continued to maintain its grip on the science officer’s thoughts.
“I do have one fear, though,” Taell confessed. There was no hint of artifice in the Perenorean leader’s response.
Kirk smiled reassuringly. “Your people have nothing to fear from the Federation or from Starfleet.”
“No…” the leaderesque agreed. “It is a fear of the unknown and how it may impact on us. How will they react when they find themselves confronted by your superior technology and its unfathomable advancements?”
“I don’t think you have to worry on that score.” McCoy was forthright in his assurance. “Your medical representatives should be able to keep up with anything, I can vouch for that from my own experience working with them. In fact, whoever you choose to represent that field might even be able to offer a useful idea or two of their own.” He grinned broadly. “We doctors can be stubborn, but we’re always willing to listen to new techniques.”
“I know, I know.” Taell stared at the dark contents of his own drinking cylinder. “But still I fear for the mental stability of the specialists who will be chosen to go.” He brightened. “Yet this is an offer that cannot be disregarded. I myself will see to the selection of the fortunate twenty-four. Despite the uncertainties to which I have just referred, there will be considerable competition within each field to see who will be among the elect. Except for one area, where no competition will be necessary.”
“Which one would that be?” Kirk was only mildly curious.
“Why, interstellar travel, of course.” Taell’s ears snapped straight back and stiffened while golden pupils widened as much as possible. “I am availing myself of your invitation to be one of the representatives of my people.”
“That’s…” Kirk glanced at McCoy, whose nod was not only approving but enthusiastic. “That’s fine, Taell. I feel like we’ve become more than just allies. In the time we’ve spent together and gotten to know one another, I feel that you and I have become friends.”
The fur on the Perenorean’s exposed sloping shoulder rippled, gleaming in the light. “Captain Kirk, you embarrass me. Not in my deepest dreams would I dare to contemplate such an eminence as yourself as a personal friend.”
“Well, I…” Kirk tried not to blush. “That’s very kind of you, Taell.”
“And you, great Doctor McCoy—might I presume to count you as a ‘friend’ as well?”
“Why, sure!” McCoy flashed a ready smile. “I’m happy to be friends with anyone who shows the kind of concern for others that your people do. You’re compassionate and protective. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?”
“Certain of the SiBoronaans, I fear.” Spock voiced the rejoinder so softly that his translator did not pick it up. But Kirk and McCoy overheard clearly enough. Both of the Vulcan’s fellow officers shot surprised looks in his direction. Noting them, the science officer added by way of explanation, “Lest we forget why we returned here.”
“Oh, right.” Kirk relaxed. Spock was, as always, making sure none of them got carried away by circumstances, no matter how benign they appeared to be.
Though the captain was sure the science officer’s translation unit had not rendered his cautionary words into Perenorean, Taell nonetheless focused his eager gaze on the Vulcan.
“And what of you, Mister Spock? May I count you as a personal friend along with your colleagues?”
The Enterprise’s first officer did not hesitate. “Certain aspects of Vulcan culture are different from those of humans, Leaderesque Taell. Without wishing in any way to appear aloof, I have to say that when it comes to establishing close personal relationships, Vulcans are somewhat reticent. I am willing to declare that the personal relationship between you and I falls somewhere between pleasing familiarity and cordial acquaintance.”
Although his translator seemed to have some difficulty parsing the fine line the Vulcan had drawn, Taell appeared sufficiently pleased with this response.
“Thank you, Commander Spock. I am most thankful for your thoughtfulness.”
“You are welcome,” the science officer replied.
Kirk felt it necessary to preempt any continuing uneasiness. “Don’t feel that Mister Spock’s response is slighting you in any way, Taell. It’s a fact that his people really are less extroverted than humans.”
“There’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” McCoy put in dryly.
Kirk threw the doct
or a look, then turned back to the leader of the colonists. “My people make friends quickly and without reservation. Vulcans tend to be circumspect.” He smiled encouragingly. “We’re more emotional, they’re more logical.”
“I very much understand, Captain.” To Kirk’s relief, the leaderesque did not seem the least insulted, nor even put off by Spock’s restraint. Taell turned his wide yellow eyes on the science officer. “I regard Mister Spock’s reserve as a challenge. Before our voyage to Earth is completed, I will make him my good and close friend! Such a thing is easier than navigating a route between the stars or fighting off the brutal Dre’kalak.”
McCoy mustered a wry grin. “I wish you luck, my friend.”
12
Montgomery Scott beamed the chosen twenty-four representatives aboard. Since the majority of the Perenorean delegation were new to the experience, each small group was accompanied by a member of the Enterprise’s crew. For a sentient who had never before undergone transport, teleportation could be unsettling. Just the awareness that one’s body and very self were being destroyed only to be precisely assembled elsewhere was sometimes sufficient to induce severe anxiety in the prospective transportee.
To their credit, not one of the Perenoreans suffered the slightest psychological issue as a consequence of the transport. On the contrary, they arrived aboard the Enterprise marveling at the experience and wanting to know every detail about how it had been accomplished. Instead of allowing themselves to be escorted to their assigned quarters, they frustrated their guides by besieging a busy Scott with questions relating to the process and the science behind it. With several more groups still to be beamed aboard, Scott was afraid he might have to beat them back with something stronger than sharp words. Their enthusiasm was unbridled—and a bit overwhelming.
“Nay, I cannot explain right now exactly how the transporter works. It’d take me a whole bleedin’ work break just to show you the math.” As he spoke, another inquisitive, energetic Perenorean arrived behind the transporter controls and began to cast queries at the chief engineer so fast that Scott’s translator could barely keep up with her questions. The loose ends of the alien’s swirling pearlescent ochre-and-bronze garb threatened to entangle Scott’s legs.
The Unsettling Stars Page 16