Star Trek - Log 9
ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE
FROM TELEVISION'S MOST POPULAR
SCIENCE FICTION SERIES
—Complete in this volume—
BEM
It seemed like such a simple request.
The Pandronians had petitioned to send
a representative to observe a Federation
crew carrying out a survey mission . . .
precisely the type of mission
the Enterprise had just been assigned.
What could go wrong?
So Commander Ari bn Bem joined
Captain Kirk and his crew to evaluate
aboriginal life forms of undetermined
intelligence and accomplishment on the
planet Delta Theta III.
And that's when the trouble began . . .
A PARTING OF THE WAYS
"He won't get far in there," Spock commented as he and Kirk headed for the dense thicket. His estimate was reasonable as far as it went, but it didn't go far enough to include a Pandronian.
Commander bn Bem came up against a veritable dead end, a place where the small trees grew so close together that no one of his size could possibly squeeze through. So, the commander did what any good Pandronian would do—he split into three parts, each of which was small enough to ooze through any of several openings in the wood.
Once successfully past the barrier the tripartite alien promptly reassembled himself and continued blithely on his composite way.
By Alan Dean Foster
Published by Ballantine Books:
The Black Hole
Cachalot
Luana
Dark Star
The Metrognome and Other Stories
Midworld
Nor Crystal Tears
Sentenced to Prism
Splinter of the Mind's Eye
Star Trek® Logs One–Ten
Voyage to the City of the Dead
. . . Who Needs Enemies?
With Friends Like These . . .
The Icerigger Trilogy:
Icerigger
Mission to Moulokin
The Deluge Drivers
The Adventures of Flinx of the Commonwealth
For Love of Mother-Not
The Tar Aiym Krang
Orphan Star
The End of the Matter
Bloodhype
Flinx in Flux
The Damned
Book One: A Call to Arms
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A Del Rey Book
Published by Ballantine Books
Copyright © 1977 by Paramount Pictures Corporation
STAR TREK® is a Trademark of Paramount Pictures Corporation registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 74-8477
ISBN 0-345-27165-3
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition: January 1977
Third Printing: September 1991
Cover Art by Stanislaw Fernandes
For Charlie Lippincott,
with admiration and friendship
CONTENTS
BEM
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
STAR TREK LOG NINE
Log of the Starship
Enterprise
Stardates 5537.3–5537.9 Inclusive
James T. Kirk, Capt., USSC, FS, ret.
Commanding
transcribed by
Alan Dean Foster
At the Galatic Historical Archives
on Ursa Major Lacus
stardated 6111.3
For the Curator: JLR
BEM
(Adapted from a script by David Gerrold)
I
"Captain's log, stardate 5537.3."
Kirk directed his voice toward the log recorder as he settled himself more comfortably in the command chair. "The Enterprise, having concluded the Lactran affair and having returned officers Markel, Bryce, and Randolph to Starbase Sixteen Survey Headquarters, is proceeding according to directives on standard survey run." As Kirk shut off the recorder, he decided this mission wasn't quite standard.
With all ship's operations functioning smoothly, he was able to lean back and relax slightly. The small portable reader screen set into the left-hand chair arm was playing back an ancient history of Starfleet. Presently the screen displayed the half-legendary story of how one Matthew Jeffries first conceived of the Constitution Class vessels, of which the Enterprise was but one of many now.
Fascinating as the tale was, wreathed in myth and the uncertain garb of Terran history, Kirk soon found his mind wandering. He had originally intended to pause at Base 16 and add his own personal observations and comments to the report of the rescued survey team. Instead, he had to settle for submitting the appropriate taped report and excerpts from the ship's log. As usual, the completion of one mission meant that half a dozen more awaited the Enterprise in the backlog of Starfleet's central computer network. There were never enough ships, never adequate personnel available to handle the continually growing task of taking some of the mystery from newly discovered worlds.
The Federation's tireless drone probes, immune to fatigue, had recently located several previously unknown and closely packed systems of planets and satellites. These potential colony worlds required the kind of in-depth, and thorough, preliminary study only a major-class starship could provide. So the Enterprise was immediately dispatched to carry out routine observations.
At least, the journey would be as routine as one could expect with the opening up of several new worlds—each one filled with a googolplex of new problems and dangers and promises. There would be one other small break in routine—one minor alteration in assigned personnel. An extra, official observer had been added to the roster for the duration of the mission. What made him important was not that he was nonhuman, non-Vulcan, and even nonhumanoid, but that he was a representative of a recently contacted intelligent race.
The orders Kirk had received went on to explain that the Federation was going through a very delicate stage in its relations with the government of Commander Ari bn Bem, of the system of Pandro. The Pandronians had requested that a representative of theirs be permitted to observe a Federation crew carrying out precisely the type of mission the Enterprise had just been assigned.
Such simple requests could not be refused. According to his orders, both the Klingons and the Romulans had expressed an interest in deepening their ties with the Pandronians. Every opportunity should be taken to convince the Pandronians that their interests would best be served by a close alliance with the Federation, particularly since several Federation worlds existed in a strategic position relative to Pandro. What all that meant was that Pandro held a position of vital concern to several Federation worlds—but the official phrasing of spatial relationships was more, ah, realistic.
Federation DIPS—members of the Diplomatic Psychology Corps—were convinced that the Federation was gaining the upper hand in the battle for Pandronian influence—a battle that had to be augmented by the cooperation and aid of everyone in Starfleet. Captain Kirk was therefore directed to extend to Comma
nder bn Bem all courtesies normally extended to an attached observer, with special regard for the precarious diplomatic situation, keeping in mind the need to . . .
Et cetera, et cetera.
Well, Kirk had it in mind, all right! The matter had been foremost in his mind since that always underfoot, irritating, and occasionally downright rude Pandronian had come aboard. Unless something happened to change their visitor's attitude, Kirk feared that Federation-Pandronian relations could be severely damaged. He was also afraid that Commander bn Bem might be severely damaged. The list of angry complaints from insulted or challenged or otherwise provoked crew members was approaching critical mass.
He managed to shove the problem from his thoughts as he added a short entry to the log. The view now on the main screen—a handsome world of swirling white clouds and blue ocean—did much to blank out all thoughts of their obstreperous visitor.
"Captain's log, stardate 5537.3. We are taking up orbit around Delta Theta Three, a newly charted Class M planet—the last world on our current mission. The original drone scout reported the possible presence of aboriginal life forms on Delta Theta Three, life forms of undetermined intelligence and accomplishment.
"Upon entering orbit the Enterprise will proceed to carry out standard survey procedures and investigation, placing particular emphasis on a detailed study of the local sapient life form."
Kirk clicked off the machine as he rose, heading for the turbolift. The presence of even a marginally intelligent life form would be a most welcome conclusion to this expedition, which had been remarkable only for the mediocrity and unattractiveness of the worlds they had examined thus far.
And then there was the remarkable unattractiveness of the singularly trying Commander bn Bem. The Pandronian was one guest Kirk would be glad to be rid of. As he rode the lift toward the Transporter Room, he broke out in a satisfied smile at the thought of the moment when Commander bn Bem would be officially returned to the Pandronian mission at Starbase 13.
He came upon the rest of the initial landing party in the corridor leading to the Transporter Room—Sulu, and Spock, with Scott accompanying them.
"Anything new on your potential hosts, Captain?" Scott called to him.
"Sensors have located several possible groupings of aborigines, Scotty," Kirk informed them. "The xenologists are sure of one thing—Delta Theta Three isn't another world of superminds like Lactra. The natives here are definitely primitive. Bear in mind, gentlemen, that like all primitive peoples they may tend to spear first and think later. I want everyone to keep in mind that no unnecessary risks are to be taken, no matter how important the information in question." He indicated the compact, cylindrical instruments each man held.
"These monitoring devices have to be hand-planted close to a center of local activity, if we're going to get any long-term data on these people. That accomplished, we'll beam up. Study of flora and fauna, geological features, and the like can be best accomplished by specialized teams afterwards.
"Lieutenant Uhura will be tracking us throughout, and Mr. Kyle will be standing by." Chief Engineer Scott nodded reassuringly. "If there is trouble of any kind, beam up immediately. Don't try to be a hero, and don't place intelligence gathering above your own life." This last comment was directed, as usual, at Spock, who, as usual, took no notice.
As the door sensed their approach, it slid aside, admitting them to the Transporter Room. Entering, they started toward the transporter alcove—and froze. Chief Kyle was present, but not in his accustomed position behind the console. Instead, he stood to one side, uncertainly eyeing the creature who occupied his station. At the entrance of the captain and his companions, Kyle turned and threw Kirk a helpless look.
Kirk nodded once as he turned his attention to the console. The biped who stood behind it, fiddling with every control in reach, was more or less of human size. Resemblance to anything manlike faded rapidly after that. The creature was bulky, blue, and hirsute—all three characteristics amply apparent despite the concealing full-length uniform it wore. The interloper had also noted the entrance of the four officers and turned to bestow the toothy equivalent of a Pandronian grin on an unamused Kirk.
"Ah, Kirk Captain," he rumbled in a voice like a contrabassoon full of marbles, "welcome and greeting. Settings are almost complete."
For the moment Kirk elected to ignore the Pandronian's unauthorized manipulation of the transporter controls. And there was no reason to reprimand Kyle, who had only been following the orders regarding bn Bem. As honorary Federation commander, the visiting Pandronian had free run of the cruiser. The mounting stack of complaints back in Kirk's office attested to the extent to which bn Bem had exercised his privileges.
Ordered to stand aside by a "superior" officer, Kyle had done so. The transporter engineer would have his chance to report on this incident later. At the moment, it was the Pandronian's presence which concerned Kirk most.
"Commander bn Bem, exactly what are you doing here? I thought you would be down in Sciences, studying procedure as information on the world below is gathered."
bn Bem replied readily in the highly contemptuous manner which perfectly complemented his personality. It was almost, Kirk reflected, as if the Pandronian were granting them a gigantic favor by deigning to grace the Enterprise with his presence. "This One," bn Bem sneered, "has decided to accompany contact team for observation of Delta Theta surface."
Kirk ignored the tone of the envoy's voice. He had learned these past days to tune it out. Nevertheless, he couldn't keep all trace of irritation from his reply. "Commander bn Bem," he reminded the other with as much control as he could muster, "you were assigned to this ship in an 'attached observer' status. Yet you've spent the past several planetary circumnavigations holed up in your quarters—when you weren't intruding for 'observation' into the private quarters of my crew. You haven't made anything like a detailed study of our survey methods—until now, it seems, when we are about to deal with a world that may very well sport a hostile primitive culture."
bn Bem's answer took the form of a controlled, basso chirp, made softly, but just loud enough for Kirk and the others to hear. "Patience . . . every planet is dangerous to the ignorant." Now speaking in a normal conversational tone, he resumed. "This One has decided that the nexus is now. Must now observe workings of starship and crew. This One is not impressed by outside recommendations for study time. A teacher is not instructed by students."
"You've had ample opportunity to 'observe workings' both on board and on-surface during our last several planetfalls—at all times in comparative safety. This beam-down is not for the casual observer, especially one as diplomatically sensitive as you know you are. It could be hazardous and—"
"I am prepared," bn Bem countered simply.
Kirk started to say something, turned, then muttered to his first officer. "Mr. Spock, I don't like this at all. Diplomatic relations could be endangered if anything happens to this—this—to Commander bn Bem while he's our guest."
"It is not merely political considerations that dictate our actions, Captain," Spock reminded him, "There is the fact that the Pandronians are also very advanced in certain exotic areas of medicine and biology. There is much we can learn from them—much that Starfleet would rather we learned than the Klingons, say. And remember—orders expressly stated that Commander bn Bem be given anything he requested."
"Within reason," Kirk added. "But I don't think this request to join the landing party is reasonable."
"Starfleet may feel otherwise."
Kirk started to offer further objection, but found Spock's reminder inarguable. He let out a frustrated, heartfelt sigh and turned back to their guest. He'd make one last try.
"Commander bn Bem, this is not going to be a pleasure excursion. I really cannot, in clear conscience, permit you to beam down to this planet with us. You understand my position, I'm sure."
"Understanding it is," bn Bem replied, "but dirty conscience if required. This One is adamant and bystan
ding to accompany on landing."
Kirk growled back, wondering at the Pandronian's perverse preferences. "This is an odd time to be adamant."
There wasn't much Kirk could do about it, except say no—and that could undo all the courtesy they had so painfully extended to bn Bem thus far. "All right," he finally grumbled, "let's go. There's a world waiting for us." He stomped toward the transporter alcove.
"Scotty, if you'll set—"
bn Bem interrupted him even as the chief engineer was moving to the console, bn Bem was an accomplished interrupter. "Waste not the time. This One has already controls set, Mr. Scotty."
"Mr. Scotty" eyed the Pandronian distrustfully and proceeded to make an elaborate, overthorough inspection of the settings in question. Hard squints and florid gestures notwithstanding, he was finally compelled to look toward the alcove and nod slowly.
"Everythin' appears to be okay, Captain," he announced. "The coordinates are locked in on the preselected touchdown site, and everythin' else looks proper."
bn Bem let out a snort of satisfaction, which no one could fail to hear—least of all Scott—before taking his place in the alcove next to Kirk, Spock, and Sulu. "Time waste," he muttered disgustedly. His human companions resolutely ignored him.
They were joined a moment later by Scott as Kyle assumed the position behind the transporter console. Kirk checked to make certain everyone still held the important automatic monitoring devices, then nodded toward the console.
"Energize, Chief."
The room faded around them . . .
Delta Theta Three was a name devoid of planetary personality, but the little group was soon to discover the world so designated was well equipped with same.
All at once five roughly cylindrical forms of glowing particles appeared near the shore of a lake and commenced to coalesce.