From: eisimps@cie.uoregon.edu (Eileen Simpson)
Subject: The Great American Star Trek Novel, Ch. 3
Summary: Where do you think we are?
Organization: University of Oregon Campus Information Exchange
Date: Sat, 29 Aug 92 01:26:17 GMT


Our story continues...(So does the copyright...)

                       THE GREAT AMERICAN STAR TREK NOVEL
                        "Where No *Man* Has Gone Before"

                                 CHAPTER THREE

"Captain's Personal Log. Stardate 2242.8.
  It has been 18 hours since we emerged from the phenomena that 
hurled us across the galaxy.  We have extinguished the inferno on 
the Engineering decks, but at a staggering cost in lives and 
equipment.  The crew is physically and emotionally exhausted from 
the ordeal, and I include myself in that assessment.  I know it is 
essential that I remain outwardly in control for the benefit of the 
crew, and yet my own feelings of grief and loss sometimes threaten 
to overwhelm me.
  We are a crippled ship, too far from home.
  Enterprise is so badly damaged!   So thoroughly beyond our ability to 
repair!  We have only our batteries to sustain us.  We crawl through 
space, with at most a matter of days to find a habitable world where 
we must do the unthinkable, and abandon our ravaged ship. It seems 
an impossible task, yet I have put all thoughts of the odds against us 
out of my mind.  I think only of how we can survive these next few 
hours, how I can best serve my ship and crew..."

  James Kirk couldn't help remembering how comfortable he'd felt 
sitting in his Captain's chair just a few hours before.  As he sat there 
now, looking at the scene around him, it was hard to recognize the 
bridge, let alone his feelings.  Had he really once felt he could handle 
anything that he might encounter?  It must have been his ego 
talking.  
  He had always been lucky, he decided.  Not talented, just 
lucky.  He had let himself get cocky once too often, and now his luck 
had run out.  The results were obvious.
  Well, maybe he deserved to be depressed, he thought, but he had no 
right to let it affect his response to the ship or his crew.  Regardless 
of what over-sight on his part had gotten them into this mess, he 
owed it to the others to keep his contempt for himself under control 
until he had dealt with this situation. Kirk looked at the criticism and 
contempt he felt he deserved as a form of self-indulgence, and drove 
those thoughts from his mind. 
  "Leave it for the court-martial," he told himself, "where they'll 
do it right. Do your duty to your crew until then."
  He'd worked nonstop since they emerged from 'The Effect'.  The most 
he would concede about the effects of his efforts was that they 
weren't dead yet.
  The others on the bridge appeared to be in similar states of 
exhaustion.  Like the rest of the crew, they knew that to 
return home they would not only have to repair a ship so badly damaged that 
it could sustain them only a few more hours, but that they 
would also have to successfully navigate a distance more than 10 
times greater than all of Federation exploration in the past 150 
years.  
  It was not an encouraging situation to say the least. Even so, they,
like their Captain, were proving to be a stubborn bunch of professionals, 
who did whatever needed doing and whatever could be done to 
improve their chances of survival.
  The sound of the bridge lift attracted Kirk's attention, and he 
swivelled wearily towards the noise.  Kirk involuntarily stiffened as 
he saw the McCoy step forward.  He knew he had to receive a final 
casualty report sometime, but still...
  McCoy was weary and grim as he walked silently to Kirk's position. 
Their eyes met briefly, then both men quickly looked away.
  "What's the word on our losses, doctor?," Kirk asked, with 
uncustomary coldness in his voice.
  "Thirty-eight dead, 24 wounded," McCoy's voice croaked back tiredly. 
"I don't think we're gonna lose anymore of the wounded.  I suppose 
in that sense, we were lucky."  
  McCoy sounded brusque as he made his report.  It wasn't that he was  
faulting Jim.  Dr. McCoy had his own guilty demons to contend with.  
  As he looked at the young faces of the dead and wounded, McCoy 
couldn't help remembering his harsh judgments of them only a short 
while before.  His words had come back to haunt him when he watched Lt. 
(j.g.) Seiko Mitsui drag four disabled comrades to safety, before she 
collapsed and died of her own mortal wounds.  
  They came back again as he'd swept the decks for casualties after 
the fire, and found bodies of the dead in positions clearly showing 
that they had succumbed while performing some last act that might help 
the ship.
  Sometimes they had acted at the cost of taking an escape route that 
could have saved their lives. They had found one such young Ensign's 
body in the Number 2 Jeffries Tube. The boy was dead of asphyxiation. 
  McCoy had learned that the Tube housed the circuitry for the Main 
Engines. The kid must have thought they had overloaded, and hoped 
he could cut the power off at the Tube. They figured the temperature 
in the Tube when the kid went into it was over 600 degrees, and had 
climbed...
  McCoy ordered himself not to think about it, but he also knew that 
whatever their attitudes or style, he was alive only because the 
youngsters had refused to let down their ship. They had become his 
shipmates, and he felt embarrassed and ashamed of his words 
against them.  
  He did his best to stay in control, and glanced quickly around the 
bridge to break the tension that followed his report.  His 
eyes caught sight of Spock, working quietly at his station.
  "How's Spock been doing?," he asked Kirk, nodding in the direction of 
the Science Officer.
  Kirk followed the doctor's gaze, looked thoughtfully at the Vulcan, 
then shrugged.
  "Darned if I know, doctor. You know Spock: even if he was in trouble, 
he would work with complete efficiency at whatever needed doing 
until he dropped in his tracks."  
  Kirk shot a quick look at his human friend.  
  "What are you asking me for?  You're the doctor, doctor."
  McCoy repressed any overt reaction. "I just thought you might have 
noticed something. I haven't exactly had time to give physio/psycho 
exams, you know."  
  He turned aside, and saw Scotty working silently on some repairs.  
McCoy watched him for a few moments, then nudged Jim.
  "Now there's a man we're going to need to keep an eye on, Jim."  Kirk 
moved subtly to indicate he was following McCoy's remarks, without 
alerting any observers to the topic of their conversation.  "You know 
that we lost every Engineer with a duty station below Level 5, Dorsal, 
don't you?"  
  McCoy spoke very softly, even though the effort strained vocal cords 
already croaking from his exhaustion.  
  "Scotty lost over 70% of his Division.  Between that and the 
condition of the ship's systems, well, just keep it in mind when you 
deal with him.  I'll take care of his medical needs."
  Kirk considered the doctor's remarks. "You know, Doctor, I need to 
get some additional information from both Spock and Scotty.  Why 
don't you hang around and observe them?"
  At McCoy's assent, Kirk signalled the other men and indicated they 
should join him in a quiet corner of the bridge for a conference.  
  McCoy noticed that Spock responded readily enough. Still, there was 
something in his manner that wasn't quite right... 
  The doctor's attention was quickly drawn away from the Vulcan to 
the Chief Engineer.  Scotty had himself under control, but his entire 
demeanor clearly revealed the strain he was under.
  Kirk was also assessing the condition of his key officers.  After some 
preliminary matters were attended to, he got down to business.
  "What chance do we have of restoring main power, Scotty?"
  The Engineer's reaction was immediate, and only barely restrained. 
  "What chance? None at all, in my opinion.  I haven't even been able 
to get people into Main Engineering yet, but I don't have to t'tell ya 
that the Main Drive doesn't do too well when parts of it get cooked at 
the surface temperature of some suns!" 
  Kirk tensed. Scotty's remarks were hyperbole, and he hoped Spock 
would not feel compelled to correct them.  Luckily, Spock remained 
silent.  The Engineer continued. 
  "Of course, that's only important if we have anti-matter for fuel--
which we don't. With the damage we sustained we couldn't possibly collect 
enough anti-matter to get us home--or even heat a decent-sized cup of 
coffee! Not to mention the dilithium crystals!" 
  Scotty looked from one man to another angrily. 
  "You give me a Starbase, a Spacedock, and a month, and I'll give you 
Main power!"
  "The Impulse system is useable, isn't it?," McCoy asked.
  Scotty took a deep breath, and spoke as if he was dealing with a 
child. 
  "Doctor, to fully utilize both the Impulse Reactors and the Aux 
generators requires that we have a working super-conductive system 
capable of handling the power they generate.  That system was knocked out, 
doctor.  It's slag.  If we use the reactors at full capacity to generate 
power when there are no lines to carry that power, the reactors will 
either switch off or they-will-pump-out-plasma-and-start-another-fire.  
Do you understand that, doctor?  What we have at full power is the battery,
and that's all we're gonna have unless someone has a spare miracle they'd 
like t'loan me."
  Kirk intervened. "What could account for this, gentlemen?," he asked 
as he looked directly at Spock, clearly attempting to draw the 
unusually quiet Vulcan into the discussion.
  Spock spoke softly and calmly. "I have only theories, at this juncture, 
Captain, but preliminary data indicates that whatever brought us 
here tapped into all our power supplies simultaneously and 
converted them in a single burst of enormous energy.  I believe it 
was that energy which hurled us 47.453 thousand light-years from 
our last position; and that burst of energy which overwhelmed our 
systems to such devastating effect."  
  Spock looked at the others and deliberately spoke colloquially.  
  "It was simply too much for them to handle."
  "But Spock," Kirk countered, "wouldn't a single energy burst of that 
magnitude have exceeded the capacity of our systems to such a 
degree that it would have simply destroyed us outright?"
  "Indeed."  Spock looked carefully at the others.  "The most logical 
conclusion is that the entire energy surge was _not_ routed through our 
systems. The bulk of it was channeled, perhaps even controlled, by 
something else. Something most probably associated with whatever 
brought us here."
  The others considered the implications of that in silence for several 
moments.  Whatever had brought them here was probably not a 
worm-hole or some other anomaly.  It was--something else.  A 
"something else" with the ability to tap the enormous power of 
Enterprise at will, release it in a single instant, and harness the 
energy that resulted.  
  It suggested intelligence and purpose, Kirk noted, though the 
purpose of bringing them so far to almost destroy them, eluded Kirk 
completely.
  "Spock--could the Menata have been so threatened by our contact, 
that they sent us here?," Kirk asked.
  The Vulcan shook his head firmly.
  "I think not, Captain," he replied.  "The probe we encountered gave 
no indications of such abilities."
  That was certainly true, Kirk conceded.  Still, the Menata had a 
motive, and he wasn't ready to let go of his suspicions about them 
quite yet.
  "Well, then, Scotty," Kirk asked finally, "how long do we have on the 
battery?"
  As Kirk turned and looked at his Chief Engineer, he realized the man 
was _enraged_.  Scotty had understood the implications of Spock's 
remarks as much as everyone else. To Scotty's way of thinking, 
whatever had brought them here had murdered his Engineers.  Kirk 
glanced at McCoy and saw he was reading that in Scotty's reaction, 
too.
  "Engineer Scott," Kirk emphasized.  
  Scotty came back to the present and forced himself to reply to Kirk's 
question.
  "Power isn't our most pressing problem, Captain.  We're runnin' out 
of breatheable air, and life-support could go at any time.  Of course if 
you can get me some time without the crew aboard, I could jerry-rig 
something and buy you more time, but working around them...I 
estimate we have about 18 hours left.  Twenty-four if we're lucky."
  "See that we are Engineer Scott," Kirk concluded, with a signal that 
Scott and McCoy were dismissed. The two men moved off together, 
the doctor taking matters in hand.
  Kirk turned toward Spock, wondering what McCoy had thought of the 
Vulcan's reactions. Until this conversation, Kirk had been genuinely 
concerned about his old friend.  He couldn't put his finger on it, but--
what was it Spock had said about the computer? 'Subtle but definate 
abnormalities.' It might well describe the sense Kirk had had about 
Spock since the latter had reappeared from the transporter room.
  Kirk had observed Spock's reactions in the conference with relief.  
While he wasn't entirely his old self, even Vulcans weren't immune 
to the strains of what they'd all been through. On balance, Kirk felt 
reassured. Spock had been alert and in control as he'd answered the 
questions.  He probably was fine, the human thought with relief.
  Spock regarded Kirk quietly, obviously wondering if the conversation 
was over for him as well.  Kirk moved closer, in a sign he wished to 
continue the discussion.
  "Anything new on our scans of this system, Spock?"
  The Vulcan looked slightly puzzled and shifted position before he 
replied. 
  "We are acquiring new data constantly, Captain, which I incorporate 
into my analysis of the situation.  However, if you are asking 
whether the conclusions indicated by the data have changed since 
my preliminary report, the answer to that would be, "no"." Spock 
paused.  "It is fascinating, however." 
  Kirk waited for Spock to explain. Things looked pretty ordinary to 
Kirk.
  "The third planet of this system is an ancient world, Captain," Spock 
explained.  "Our recent scans show that the radioactive elements 
originally present there have virtually all decayed. The remaining 
quantities have been insufficient to maintain a liquid planetary core 
for tens of thousands of years. Therefore, the planet solidified quite 
some time ago.  It is now a geologically stable world made up 
primarily of islands."
  "If I recall your data correctly, Spock, some of those 'islands' are 
about the size of Greenland back on Earth," Kirk commented.
  "Quite correct, Captain," Spock agreed mildly. "There are 8 land 
masses of sufficient size to qualify as subcontinents, and there is one 
land mass extending over the northern pole which is clearly classed 
as a continent. Nevertheless, the surface of this planet is primarily 
covered with oceans and dotted with what are best described as 
islands."
  Kirk rubbed his eyes tiredly.  "Spock, I'm in no condition to figure out 
puzzles with you.  What the heck is so fascinating about all this?"
  "It is the anomalies and coincidences revealed by the data, Captain."  
  Kirk simply stared at Spock until the latter continued.  
  "Is it not fascinating that we should be thrown across the galaxy,  
and find ourselves on a direct course into this system, a system which 
contains a Class M, habitable world as its third planet?"
  "Does seem pretty darned coincidental," Kirk agreed.  "What else 
have you noticed?"
  "The very level of stability manifested by this planet, is highly 
unusual, Captain. It has an almost perfect orbit.  An angle of 
inclination of 4.892%, yielding little seasonal variation.  A planet 
covered with oceans and small land masses--and almost _no storms_."  
  Kirk looked at Spock blankly, and the Vulcan explained. 
  "Recall your basic science, Captain: weather systems are inherent in a 
Class M atmosphere, and weather systems build over water, and 
diminish over land.  Without large land masses to break up storm 
patterns, the weather system of this world should be far more active 
than our data would indicate."
  Kirk considered Spock's remarks quickly.  "Is it possible our scans 
are off?"
  "Unlikely, Captain.  While their quality is not up to our usual 
standards, the pod's scanners are operating correctly. In addition, we 
have restored some ship's systems, and they are confirming our 
readings from the pod.  It is most curious," Spock reflected, "as is 
the data regarding the indigenous population.  Such a low level of 
cultural development is not usually associated with a humanoid 
population on a world this aged, Captain."
  Kirk tensed at the last remark.  "You understand the implications of 
the cultural problem, Spock?" The Prime Directive.  Spock nodded 
and Kirk continued, the tension evident in his voice.  "Are you 
absolutely certain of your conclusions?"
  The Vulcan did his best to not be insulted. 
  "Captain, all the reports you have received are based on data 
generated entirely from long-range scans, but that data does appear 
to be reliable.  My conclusions simply analyze our available data in 
light of our experience with other worlds.  With that in mind, judging 
from the level of urbanization, the pollution content of the 
atmosphere, and the dearth of broadcast signals, this world is 
inhabited by a pre-industrial society. Primitive by our standards. 
Furthermore, there is no indication there was ever a more developed 
culture at some earlier point in the planet's history.  It is a foregone 
conclusion that none of the social units we have identified thus far 
could produce a vehicle capable of reaching planetary escape 
velocity, and the most advanced such unit appears to be generations 
removed from such a development."
  It was still the same story: all their scans indicated they were dealing 
with a habitable world, but one with an indigenous culture which fell 
squarely within the constraints of the Prime Directive. As if reading 
Kirk's thoughts, Spock continued.
  "The people of this world have never left it of their own doing, 
Captain. Unless, and this seems most unlikely, the life-forms of some 
other system, some other race, ventured here, it is most improbable 
that these beings have had any contact with life originating outside 
their own world. If we confine our estimates of the likelihood of such 
contacts to what the inhabitants would be capable of generating by 
their own efforts and technology, the probability of such contact 
drops to..."  
  Spock's eyes met Kirk's and he read the exhaustion in them.  He 
paused just a moment, then concluded, "...a virtual nullity, 
Captain."
  Kirk considered this information quietly before he replied.  
  "What are the chances that we could find some remote spot and just 
avoid the locals, Spock?  Find some uninhabited island, someplace 
where we aren't likely to get visitors?"
  Spock nodded.  "That is an option which is worth pursuing, Captain.  
The planet is not heavily populated, and the inhabitants are 
clustered in the subtropics. There are a number of areas which are 
not near indigenous populations that we can evaluate for settlement. 
In fact, with the exception of scattered bands in the subpolar portion 
of the continental land-mass, there are virtually no inhabited areas 
outside the 40th parallel in either the northern or southern 
hemispheres."
  Kirk was confused.  "There are no humanoid settlements to speak of 
outside the 40th parallel except in a subpolar area?  How do you 
explain that, Spock?"
  "It is another anomaly in the data, Captain, however, the most 
credible hypothesis is that a small population of these beings was 
isolated there by natural forces, such as continental drift or geologic 
upheaval. There is an extraordinarily rugged mountain range 
between the northern population and the lower latitudes."
  The Captain rubbed his neck.  "What options do we have outside this 
system?"
  Spock responded impassively.  "The information we have is 
extremely limited, sir. There is a dense cloud of interstellar dust 
which obscures scans in one direction. It would appear that the next 
closest star with a planetary system is approximately 4.3 months 
away at our best speed.  It is not possible to say from the available 
data if any of the planets in that system are habitable."
  Kirk absorbed the information thoughtfully.  At that distance, 
assuming he could stabilize their atmosphere and life-support, the 
alternate system was beyond Enterprise's reach even if she stretched 
her batteries to maximum and used all her lifeboats.  
  Kirk sighed.  He was tired of being on his feet.  Their problem with 
the Prime Directive wasn't going to get any better by him standing here 
and talking to Spock about it. The discussion was concluded for the 
moment.  Kirk stretched as he prepared to move off.
  "Well, that's enough for now, Spock."  
  Kirk was grateful for Spock's good-health.  He looked at his friend 
with warm regard and evident relief.  "I know it's a human reaction, 
Spock, but I still have to tell you: I'm glad you're okay.  You really 
had me worried when I saw you in the transporter room, but you 
certainly seem to be alright now.  I can't say that for much else 
around here," Kirk concluded, as he started to move away, "but what 
the hell, at least we're alive."
  "Perhaps," Spock remarked simply.
  Kirk stopped in his tracks.  He turned back toward Spock, noting that 
the Vulcan was casually moving back to his station, as if nothing out 
of the ordinary had happened.  Kirk felt confused.
  "Spock...are we having the same conversation? I said, 'we're alive'. I 
suppose that's something," Kirk explained.
  "I am not certain of that, Captain."
  "You, Spock?," Kirk asked with concern.  "It's not like you to be 
depressed."  Kirk moved closer to his friend.  Perhaps something was  
wrong .
  "Ah.  I see the confusion: my reference was unclear."  Spock faced 
Kirk as he clarified his remarks. "I meant, that I am not certain we 
are not dead, Captain."
  Kirk was shocked. "Oh, shit!," he thought. Spock really was unwell. 
  Kirk gathered his thoughts, then approached Spock more closely.
  "I see...   Spock, have you, uh, shared this, um...impression with 
anyone else?"
  "No, Captain.  I can see no useful purpose to it," Spock replied matter-
of-factly.  "Given the data currently reported by my senses, it would 
be illogical to let the possibility affect my behavior."
  Kirk spoke to his friend slowly, with concern, making certain he 
understood.  "You mean...the possibility that we're actually _dead_ 
shouldn't affect your behavior?," Kirk asked in bewilderment.
  "That is correct, Captain," Spock nodded.  "It would not be logical."
  "Spock...,"  Kirk considered his words carefully, "there was a power 
surge while you were in the transporter. You may be experiencing 
perceptual problems as a result of that.  You may need medical 
attention."
  Spock evaluated the information. 
  "Humm."  He turned away for a moment then faced Kirk again. 
  "Please correct my impression if I am in error, Captain, but did you 
not experience, at that same time, a sense of being in a pleasant, 
indescribable space?"  Kirk reluctantly indicated agreement.  "Would 
you describe your recollections of the experience, Captain?"
  Kirk hesitated, then described what he could recall of "The Effect".  It 
was difficult to put into words.  Nothing he could say could truly 
convey it.
  After a while he finished, and Spock nodded. "Is it also correct, 
Captain, that there were aspects of that experience which cannot be 
communicated or described by any of our forms--perhaps the 
defining aspects of the experience?"
  "Well, yes, but..."
  "You have just described those aspects of my experience with death 
which are capable of description, Captain."
  Kirk cut him off. "Wait, Spock. Look, just because there are 
similarities between the two experiences, doesn't mean they are the 
same..."
  "True.  However, for myself I can say that while I was experiencing 
what we are calling 'The Effect', I found I was reliving--or 
reexperiencing--my experience of being dead."
  Kirk wanted out of the conversation very badly.  He asserted his 
position as Spock's commander. 
  "Spock. The critical factor here is that we are no longer in the void. .."
  "It is not accurate to describe the experience as a 'void', Captain.  A 
'void' is an emptiness, and, as you recall, there was a sense of 
presence..."
  "Spock! Listen. I can't explain where we were, Spock, but the 
important thing, which you seem to be overlooking, is that we 
aren't there now. We are here, on the bridge, walking around, 
talking, thinking....Hell, Spock, we're even worrying about dying!"  
  Kirk fixed Spock with a hard stare.  "We are not dead, Spock."
  The Vulcan was undisturbed. 
  "As you wish, Captain. You were always unwilling to accept the 
experience, and perhaps you are correct.  Perhaps your refusal to 
accept the death experience even has some relationship to our 
present status.  In any event, I am unable to speak with certainty for 
either point of view."
  Either point of view!   Kirk looked at his friend sadly. 
  "Spock, I want you to go see Dr. McCoy.  Now. I want you to tell him 
about this conversation and follow whatever program of medical care 
he directs.  Do you understand me, Spock?  This is an order."
  The Vulcan accepted the instructions as he accepted all the peculiarly 
human quirks of his friend, and joined McCoy as the doctor finished 
his tour of the bridge. Kirk watched as the two officers stepped into 
the lift and the doors closed. 
  "What next?," Kirk wondered.

  Lt. Karl Murphy reported in for his latest tour in the research pod. It 
wasn't that he enjoyed the duty in the cramped little station, it 
simply gave him something important to do and kept him away from 
other people while he did it.  
  Murphy did not like the disorder of the ship, especially the sense that 
they were not in control of events or their survival.  He was grateful 
for the chance to be occupied, no, immersed, in a demanding, vital 
task--which he could do alone.
  Like everyone else on the ship, Murphy was developing his own 
theories of what had hit them. His preference was for a spatial quirk 
or hostile force.  He had little patience with those who insisted they 
had experienced an almost spiritual presence during the transition.  
  Romanticizing disorientation had never impressed him, and Murphy 
was personally convinced that was all such reports were.
  His own experience of 'The Effect' had been neither beautiful nor 
romantic. It was simply frustrating and confusing.  He'd been unable 
to analyze his surroundings and had felt completely ineffective for 
the duration of the event.  It was deeply disturbing to Murphy:  the 
environment had been  painfully unresponsive to his efforts to assert 
himself through his actions and his thoughts.
  He'd hated the entire episode.
  In reaction to the experience, since they had emerged, he had made 
his best efforts to be especially focused, precise, and controlled.  He 
knew he had probably come across to the Captain as a martinet 
during their encounter on the bridge, but that very precise, focused 
behavior had helped him recover from his experience, and helped 
him even now as he tried to avoid the uncomfortable feelings 
brought on by his memories of 'The Effect'.  He brought all his 
attention to bear on his scientific instruments, concentrating on his 
scans of the third planet.
  When he first saw them, 20.2 hours after Enterprise's emergence 
from 'The Effect', he was momentarily worried that he had pushed 
himself too far, and was hallucinating.   
  He reset his instruments, and checked again. His readings confirmed, 
he signalled the bridge. 
  Two small objects now stood between them and the third planet.