From: eisimps@cie.uoregon.edu (Eileen Simpson)
Subject: The Great American Star Trek Novel, Ch. 7
Summary: On the Planet of Committed Intimate RRelating...
Organization: University of Oregon Campus Information Exchange
Date: Wed, 2 Sep 92 06:05:25 GMT

                       THE GREAT AMERICAN STAR TREK NOVEL 
                        "Where No *Man* Has Gone Before" 
                     Copyright E.G. WEBER (SIMPSON) 1989



                                CHAPTER SEVEN

  The jagged, snow-covered mountains spanned the horizon to the 
north.  Although over 500 kilometers from the shuttle's location, the 
enormous height of the range, and the purity of the air, yielded a 
dramatic silhouette which greeted every officer as he or she exited 
the shuttle's starboard hatch. Each disembarking human was 
momentarily halted by the sight, then stepped aside to make room 
for those behind. 
  The survey party stood together silently on the grasses outside the 
open shuttle hatch, absorbed in their first experience of the world 
that stretched before them.  They had done their preliminary scans 
of the area as they'd followed the spherical alien vessel to this 
location.  They knew they faced no immediate hazards or threats, 
and no pressing concerns or tasks intruded on the moment.
  The peaks were a clear, stark symbol of how much things had 
changed for the Enterprise personnel who had arrived on the surface 
of this nameless planet. It had been apparent to all of them since 
they emerged from The Effect that, if they survived, their lives and 
routines were going to undergo complete, perhaps permanent, 
transformation.  
  But the impending loss of their shipboard existence was not the only 
shift now taking place. This was a world that, unlike other worlds they 
had visited, or even grown up on, appeared destined to be their home.  
That unspoken reality changed things.  It altered their usual, efficient, 
routine of planetary exploration.  It altered the feelings they brought to 
their tasks.  
  In those first moments after exiting the shuttle, everyone 
appeared transfixed by the grandeur of the panorama to the north.  
Internally, and largely outside of their awareness, they had begun to 
confront their personal experiences of this new reality.
  Kirk was the first to move away from the shuttle's hatch, seeking a 
spot where he could get a more complete view of his surroundings.  
  They had landed near the western edge of a broad, grassy plain.  
Kirk headed northeast, thinking he would make for a low rise a few 
dozen meters away.  As he walked, Kirk glanced quickly to the west, 
and then east.  He halted, and turned.  He found himself drawn 
towards the scene to the east.  He stepped away from the others, and 
moved to the front of the shuttle.  
  Kirk's movement away from the hatch seemed to break a spell.  The 
others stepped forward, slowly at first, silently evaluating their 
surroundings.  Spock's attention was immediately absorbed in 
analyzing the readings from his tricorder.  McCoy wandered off a few 
feet, visually surveying the area, caught up in thoughts of his own. 
  Karl Murphy snapped himself out of "tourist mode".  He glanced about 
quickly, pulled out his tricorder, and began running his scans. Pavarti 
remained just outside the shuttle door, awkwardly juggling the 
heavy apparatus Uhura had brought along to remain in contact with 
the translation network she'd created aboard ship.  He self-
consciously observed the actions of the others, and inspected his 
surroundings from the security of the immediate area around the 
hatchway.  A breeze ruffled his hair.  
  Then something else swept over Pavarti, and he felt his face flush.  
He was drawn forward, looking for something he couldn't name.
  Uhura and Chekov walked the several yards to the small rise to the 
northeast, stepping through the knee-high grasses as if wading 
through a stream. Their eyes were fixed on the lofty peaks of the 
immense range that filled the distant horizon.  The inevitable, but 
minimal, interference from the planetary atmosphere, produced 
wavy lines across the base of the mountains.  It gave the impression 
that the summits floated, suspended above the vast expanse of 
grassy plain.  The spectacle stretched across the northern skyline in a 
scene of breathtaking drama and beauty.
  When they arrived on the hillock, the two friends made a slow, 
turning circle to their left, silently taking in the scenes around them.  
  The vertical sides and flat tops of plateaus appeared in the distance, 
between the grassy plain and the mountains that lay due north.  To 
the left of the plateaus, between intermittent rises of high ground, 
they caught occasional glimpses of the bright blue waters of the 
immense lake that ran down the center of the continent.
  They continued turning to the west.   The low grasses waved in the 
light breeze like a living carpet. They continued for a relatively short 
distance due west from where the humans stood, but were soon 
mixed with ferns, shrubs, and other low vegetation, until finally 
giving way to a temperate-zone forest.
  Behind the forest, in the distance to the southwest, rose sheer cliffs 
of bare rock, topped with dense, verdant, foliage.  It was another 
plateau, this one large, and triangularly shaped.  They had noticed 
the formation on the way in, and knew it stood between them and 
the southern end of the blue lake, or inland sea.  The flight in had 
also revealed a lush green valley, that now lay between the shuttle 
and the plateau.  The forests were largely confined to the floors and 
sides of the river valleys, and they deduced that the valley they had 
seen probably began within a few hundred yards of the trees in 
front of them.  
  Their view to the south was much the same: grasslands, that segued 
to shrubs, that segued to trees.  Again, their flight path had 
established that a deep gorge lay some hundred kilometers to the 
south of their position, cut through the rock by the force of the river 
that ran from the southern end of the lake after dropping over an 
enormous falls.  
  They turned east.  Their gazes fell on a seemingly endless grassy 
plain.  Waves of greens, browns, and yellows stretched before them, 
rising and falling in a cool afternoon breeze.  Here and there small 
patches of primary colors, flowers perhaps, brightened the otherwise 
simple beauty of the landscape.  They couldn't be certain that it 
wasn't a trick of the wind, but the late afternoon sun cast slight 
shadows that suggested the terrain was not perfectly flat, and that 
the grasses swept over low hills that reached long, irregular fingers 
to the eastern horizon.
  No birds called.  No insects hummed.  There was only the sound of 
the breeze moving through the grasses, in a soothing, almost 
hypnotic sigh.
  "It's like the savannah back home," Uhura whispered quietly to 
Pavel.
  The Russian shook his head.
  "More like the stepps," he quietly replied.  "It's just like this on a late 
summer afternoon."
  They turned their heads to discuss it further, then paused in sudden 
embarrassment.  Each gave a small, quiet laugh at their absurdity in 
engaging in even minor debate about who had the better claim of 
familiarity to this planet on the other side of the galaxy from the one 
they called home.  They turned their gazes back to the new world 
that stretched before them, and silently agreed to spend a few more 
moments just getting the feel of the place before turning to their 
tasks.
  Leonard McCoy noticed Jim off by himself, towards the front of the 
shuttle.  As he considered his friend's intent but inscrutable 
expression, McCoy's brow raised in a wordless question.  
  _What could absorb Kirk's attention so completely?_ 
  McCoy moved towards Jim, making his way through the grasses.  
  Kirk seemed oblivious to his approach.  The doctor came up beside 
his friend, and made his own visual inspection of the endless vista to 
the east. 
  "You know," McCoy began, gazing at the vast sea of grass that 
extended to the eastern horizon, "it's a shame to admit it, Jim, but I 
can never  keep geological or geographic terms in my head.  What do 
you call that kind of grassy plain?" 
  Kirk's focus on the expanse never wavered.
  "Iowa," he replied.

  Kirk and McCoy returned to the group around the shuttle's hatch.  At 
Kirk's direction, the various survey parties prepared to move out on 
their assignments.
  "Commander," Kirk said pointedly to Uhura, "you remain here with 
me."
  Uhura assented and stepped aside as the others began to disperse.
Kirk noticed Pavarti gazing off to the south, an odd expression on the 
young man's face.
  "Mr. Pavarti," Kirk called sharply.  The Ensign turned immediately.
"Leave Cmdr. Uhura's equipment here with us," Kirk directed, "and 
join Mr. Murphy's survey party."
  Pavarti glanced at the Lieutenant as the slightest flicker of 
annoyance crossed Murphy's face.  The latter acknowledged the 
order.  Pavarti hesitated just an instant, then moved out with the 
others in silence.
  "Bones," Kirk turned to the doctor, "I want you and Spock to make 
the widest possible scans of this area."  Kirk's expression was intense 
as he spoke to his two most senior officers.  "I want to know about 
anything and everything that's the least bit unusual or suspicious."
  McCoy nodded that he understood, and pulled out his tricorder.
  "Acknowledged, Captain," Spock responded.
  The two veterans left briskly for their assigned tasks.  Kirk and 
Uhura watched them go.  
  As the others moved farther and farther into the distance, Kirk's 
expression and stance towards his communications officer subtly 
changed.  
  Had she set him up for that embarrassing episode with his 
kamacara?, Kirk wondered.  The Captain wasn't certain.
  But he didn't intend to ignore the possibility, either.  
  Uhura turned and faced the Captain.  Kirk was evaluating her 
thoughtfully.  Not angrily, she noticed.  But not warmly, either.  She 
shifted into standard, Starfleet subordinate, defensive mode.  Her 
facial features became a neutral mask of complete propriety.
  Kirk regarded her from under lowered brows.  Uhura stood silently 
at attention.  The Captain began circling her slowly.
  Finally, Kirk spoke.
  "I understand you're an expert in kamacara relationships, 
Commander," Kirk said, watching her reaction carefully.
  "Yes, sir," Uhura agreed, in her professional manner.
  "I think we need to go over some information on those relationships 
before the next time I encounter my bond-partner, Commander," 
Kirk said levelly.
  "Yes, sir," Uhura acknowledged.
  Kirk observed her intently as he considered his next words.
  "I want complete information, Commander," he said finally.  "I don't 
want any surprises," he told her significantly.  His eyes never left her 
face.
  "Understood, sir."
  "I hope that's clear, Commander.  My sense of humor does not extend 
to jokes at my expense, Commander."
  "I don't know what you mean, sir."
  Kirk's brow knitted and his eyes seemed to narrow.  He scrutinized 
Uhura's face.  Her demeanor conveyed respect and revealed nothing.  
  Kirk remained suspicious that she had led him into a trap with the 
alien girl, but he could not deny the role of his own ego in the 
episode, and would not lash out at Uhura just to salve his wounded 
pride.  
  "That may be, Commander," he finally responded, "but if I ever 
decide that you do know what I mean, you will find that as Captain 
of this sh--crew, I laugh last.  Do you read me?"
  "Loud and clear, sir."
  Kirk nodded pointedly at her response.
  "Very good, Commander.  Now, tell me about kamacara and the Sa'o."
  Kirk opened a camp chair and made himself comfortable.   In the 
interval since they'd left the ship, Kirk had resigned himself to his 
new role--whatever it turned out to be.  His mind had refocused on 
the need to master whatever skills he needed to save his crew, and 
he awaited Uhura's report from that perspective. 
  Uhura watched him get settled, and considered where to begin.  She 
didn't like the hand she'd just been dealt, and decided to risk doing 
something about it.
  "I'll do my best to provide the information you need, Captain," she 
began, "but it does need to be clear that I cannot pretend to predict 
the reactions and expectations of these people to the degree that I 
can assure that any of us can avoid surprises, sir."  
  Kirk made a face, but said nothing.  Uhura pressed her point.  
  "These people are not Sa'o, Captain.  The translator has selected the 
Sa'o kamacara culture as the most recognizable thing in our memory 
banks based on whatever it's picking up, but these people still don't 
appear to be verbal, or linguistic, or experiencing a world based on 
perceived differences.  I can't tell you for certain that they will react 
like Sa'o, or that their form of kamacara is like some particular 
culture of the Sa'o.  We just don't know how far the analogy will hold 
up, sir."  
  Uhura sighed.   
  "Even if they are actually identical to one of the Sa'o cultures, 
Captain, there is no way, at present, to identify which subculture 
they match, and Captain, there is a lot of variation among the Sa'o.  
Those two sources of possible...misunderstandings, or as you might 
say, surprises, sir, are not surmountable at present.  I just cannot 
promise you that you won't be surprised, despite my best efforts, 
Captain.  In fact, I'd bet on just the opposite."
  Kirk inhaled deeply, and frowned.
  "I'm willing to concede the validity of your concerns, Commander.  
What I want you to understand is that I will show no tolerance 
whatsoever for being set up.  Do you understand the difference, 
Commander?"
  "Yes, sir."
  "Good," Kirk nodded.  "Then we can proceed with that 
understanding."   
  Uhura internally breathed a sigh of relief.  She might get out of this 
alive, yet.  She collected her thoughts and began the education of 
Kamacara James T. Kirk.
  "Sa'o cultures fascinate me, Captain, and they've been kind of a 
hobby of mine.  I think that once you become familiar with them 
you'll be intrigued, too."  
  Kirk sat in unenthusiastic silence as Uhura warmed to her topic.
  "I'd say we should start with a basic overview of the main cultural 
features of Sa'o peoples, sir, until I can produce a more 
comprehensive study for you to formally review.  You're going to 
need it, sir.   I can't possibly brief you on, nor could you presently 
retain, information on all the kamacara systems, Captain, but I can 
make that available later by report."
  Kirk nodded in agreement.
  "I'd appreciate a report I can use as a reference, Commander, and 
we'll need information we can distribute to the crew, as well.  But I 
need to get some idea of the basics right now, before those people 
show up and expect me to do something with them again."
  Kirk relented somewhat in his suspicious mood, and indicated Uhura 
should get settled more comfortably.  A few moments later she was 
eagerly continuing her report.
  "The essential thing you need to know, Captain, is that the two pillars 
of any kamacara culture or partnership," Uhura said, "are 
relationship and commitment."
  Kirk's features remained impassive.  A slight change in his body 
tension and respiration rate were the only manifestations of any 
impact from Uhura's words.
  The communications officer was in her element.
  "As a people, the Sa'o are as relationship-oriented as the Vulcans are 
logical," Uhura explained.  "It is absolutely central to their way of 
living and being.  Socially, they tend to be organized in loose, 
cooperative groups.   There may be some simple, basic 
administrative apparatus, but that's rare..."
  "How do they get anything done?," Kirk interrupted.
  "They cooperate...in volunteer groups...on whatever tasks need to be 
done," Uhura explained.
  "Does that work?," Kirk queried.
  Uhura shrugged.
  "Depends on what you mean.  These are not highly technological 
cultures, sir.  What they have is a way of life that substitutes 
responsiveness and concern for others for aggressiveness, initiative, 
and competitiveness.  They're very peaceful, very happy, and very 
loving.  Warfare is virtually unknown, sir.  But they are very simple 
people, and I think that's why they aren't widely studied."
  Kirk signalled that she should continue.  He felt uneasy.  Being 
marooned was inherently boring.  Being marooned with these people 
could be mammothly boring.
  _Then why do you feel so anxious?_, a voice asked him.
  "The thing to remember, sir, is that everything about a Sa'o culture 
makes perfect sense once you understand that their core value is 
relationship:  All life activity is defined by, and processed through, 
relationship," Uhura emphasized.  
  Kirk's head was starting to ache.
  "The place where humans get into trouble as kamacara, is by seeing 
that relationship as the means to an end.  The Sa'o experience this as 
a violation of their basic values, Captain," Uhura said seriously, "and 
they'll terminate kamacara if they come to believe that something 
other than the desire to know and be known is behind a cultural 
contact.  That's why Vulcans established the first successful 
kamacara partnership with the Sa'o, sir.  The humans had too many 
hidden agendas.  Vulcans came with a straight-forward interest in 
learning about the Sa'o culture."
  "Then why didn't...," Kirk struggled with the lack of a name for his 
partner, "...'she' choose Spock?"
  Uhura shook her head.  "It's impossible to say, sir.  But I should tell 
you that Vulcans were not successful with all Sa'o cultures, Captain.  
Their strong intellectual discipline isn't always attractive to the Sa'o.  
The Sa'o are a feeling people, sir," Uhura explained, "with a feminine 
psychology.  They have a diffuse, non-linear thought process which 
the Vulcans experience as illogical.  Sa'o can find Vulcans cold, 
detached, and unimaginative--even judgmental.  Perhaps that's why 
the young lady chose you, sir.  I really don't think anyone can say.
  "Just remember," Uhura emphasized, "that a relationship is never the 
means to an end.  With Sa'o peoples, it is the end.  It is pursued as 
valuable in its own right."
  Kirk was thoughtful and worried.  He stood up and began to pace.
  "Uhura...look, let's be honest, here," he began.  "The only reason I 
agreed to be in a relationship with any of these people is because it 
appeared that we were all going to die if I didn't.  I would have to 
say," he confessed, "that if ever a relationship was a means to an end 
for me, this one is it."  He shook his head, and spread his hands 
helplessly.  "I just can't pretend it's any different."
  Uhura considered his remarks seriously.
  "Then don't," she advised finally.  "Whatever you do, be honest.  But 
for all of our sakes, Captain, please try to develop a curiosity about 
who your partner is, and how her people live.  I know you can do 
that, sir.  It's part of what you like about this work."
  Kirk smiled in wry resignation.
  "Well, so far, this is great, Cmdr.  I can't wait to hear about 
'commitment'."
  "Oh you really will like that, sir," Uhura said reassuringly.  "If they 
are like Sa'o, it will be very different from our experience.   We 
usually see a commitment as involving at least some degree of a loss 
of freedom.  Sa'o kamacara societies understand commitment as a 
covenant between two people who retain their selfhoods in the 
context of a relationship.  They don't assume that a loss of freedom, 
or some sense of incarceration goes along with commitment, and 
their relationships are just plain remarkable for the way they 
achieve closeness and independence.  One theory says that the 
reason they have so much independence is because they're so clear 
and complete in their commitments, sir."
  Uhura continued, blissfully ignorant of the Captain's complete 
inability to share her enthusiasm for the culture she was describing.
  "Uhura," Kirk interrupted.  "Just what the heck do these people do?  
What should I expect...or avoid?"
  "That's hard to say, sir.  The good news, Captain, is that these cultures 
tend to be very playful, and are not particularly ritualistic.  It is very 
rare for a kamacara partnership to blow up over a single event, and 
if it does, it doesn't have anything to do with failing to follow some 
outwardly imposed, cultural formality."
  "What sorts of things break these agreements up?," Kirk asked 
nervously.
  "Kamacara bonds between committed partners usually work, but they're 
broken in three situations:  the bond-partner decides to withdraw from the 
relationship, which is rare, and very serious; or, there can be a 
profound violation of the kamacara relationship and the trust, 
integrity, and values that support it; or, the bond-partnering works, 
and the participants discover their groups are not compatible."
  "What do you mean, the bond-partnering 'works,' but the groups 
aren't compatible?"
  "The kamacara's bond to his or her partner is to become known," 
Uhura clarified.  "It is entirely possible that this knowing can reveal 
insurmountable incompatibilities.  The Sa'o do not see this as a 
failure of the relationship.  The two groups simply part in peace, 
often with an exchange of food and gifts, and go their separate ways."
  Kirk tensed.
  "I don't think I could share that perspective, Commander.  At least 
not in these circumstances."
  Uhura could sense Kirk's concern.  She found herself sympathizing 
with the Captain's situation.
  "Sa'o peoples are usually quite generous, affectionate, and sharing, 
Captain,S she offered quietly.  "They have a sense of...inner trust that 
they can count on the people around them, which is, well, different 
from what we usually experience in Starfleet.  Here, we know we can 
rely on the competence and sense of duty of our comrades.  The Sa'o 
bond is different.  It's a personal, emotional trust that people take 
care of each other out of love."
  Kirk looked at Uhura with an expression that was almost willing to 
hope.
  "It's possible," Uhura continued, "that if these people are similar to 
the Sa'o, and, if they come to understand our situation, that they 
would not abandon us, Captain.  Even if we weren't compatible."
  "That's a lot of 'ifs', Commander."
  "True, sir.  But it's a legitimate possibility."
  Uhura noticed that Kirk looked tired.  She sat quietly while Kirk 
stared off into the distance, absorbing what he'd been told.
  "Do you have any other tips on how to relate to...our hosts?," the 
Captain asked finally.
  Uhura pondered the question for a few moments.
  "I'd say you should assume that relationships here are peer until 
proven otherwise.  They probably are, but if they aren't, you're a lot 
less likely to cause offense by treating a superior as your equal, than 
you are by treating a subordinate or a peer as your superior."
  "Huh?  Why's that?"
  "Because by treating everyone as a peer, you acknowledge and honor 
the possibility of a genuine, intimate relationship with them.  When 
you elevate someone above you, you separate that person from you.  
In Sa'o cultures that can be interpreted as a suggestion that you 
dislike the person.  Treating someone as if they were above you is 
the most common form of insult among the Sa'o, Captain."
  The two officers continued their discussions, Kirk asking questions, 
Uhura clarifying what she could, offering her ideas and suggestions.
  Finally, Kirk felt he had absorbed all the information he could handle 
in one session.  He brought things to a close, stood up, and stretched.
  He needed a break.  Some change of scenery.
  He walked slowly to the hill he had been heading for when they first 
arrived.
  At the top of the small rise, he stood, and slowly looked about, taking 
in the lay of the land, seeking some sense of the place.
  His jaw set as he turned.
  It was not Enterprise, he noted.  It never would be.
  And yet, they needed this place right now, he reminded himself.  It 
was unfair and unreasonable of him to resent this land, or its people.
  But he did.
  It wasn't what he wanted.  It wasn't where he wanted to be, or what 
he wanted to be doing, or who he wanted to be doing it with.
  Kirk stood on the hill and struggled with himself, using all the 
techniques he had been taught over the years to stay in control, and 
stay on top of the depression that lurked beside him.  He 
continuously reminded himself that he was taking action, moving 
forward to resolve the crisis they had faced since the moment of the 
aborted effort to contact the Menata.  He was acting to protect the 
crew.  Doing his duty.  Being the Captain.
  He was facing east, toward the plain.
  "_Who are you kidding?_," the voice asked him. "_You're marooned.  Your 
ship is screwed to hell, and you're trapped with a bunch of 
completely incomprehensible gargling ding-a-lings, in a society  
organized around committed, intimate, nonsexual relating--which is 
okay, because you've probably agreed to be celibate for the rest of 
your life!_"
  Kirk stood staring angrily to the east, silently giving vent to his pent-
up frustration.
  His face set grimly as he considered the landscape before him.  It 
was the perfect final touch on the whole situation, he thought 
sarcastically:  after spending his adult life doing his best to get as far 
from Iowa as he possibly could, he now found himself facing the 
probability that he would spend the rest of his life marooned in it's 
functional equivalent.
  "_It's not bad enough that I'm marooned_," he fumed.  "_I'm marooned 
in Iowa, dammit!_" 
  Kirk was developing a suspicion.  Perhaps Spock was right.  Perhaps 
they were dead.  
  _This_  was hell.
  Uhura stayed down at the shuttle, working with her equipment, 
making notes to herself on things to include in her report to the 
Captain on kamacara.  She left Jim Kirk to himself.
  The Captain had a lot going on right now, she thought.  He needed 
some time to be with his feelings about the wave of events that had 
overwhelmed them.  The African felt strong compassion for her 
Captain, standing alone on the hill.  He was facing an immense 
challenge as the evacuation of his ship approached, and his personal 
challenges werenUt going to ease once that step was completed.  If 
anything, they would intensify.
  It made her feel guilty about the way she'd set him up.
  Of course, it wasn't entirely true that she'd led him into a trap with 
the alien girl.  His own assumptions had put him there.  She'd given 
him accurate information.
  But it was also true that she'd seen where he was going, and she 
didn't warn him about it.
  Oh, it could be professionally rationalized, she knew.  It would help 
him in the long run.  It was best to keep kamacara contacts honest--
and Kirk's honest attraction to his partner in the early moments of 
their relationship was entirely sexual.  Uhura had known he wouldn't 
push things with the girl to the point the girl or the crew's safety was 
jeopardized, but still, she had let him walk right into a very 
embarrassing situation.  And now, watching him struggle with his 
feelings out on the little hill to the north, she felt bad about it.
  Well, she'd make it up to him somehow, she thought.
  One thing she would not do, however, was confess.  Kirk's reaction 
this afternoon had made it clear that, how ever good confession 
might be for the soul, it would be ultra-hazardous to her short-term 
enjoyment of life.  She resolved that under no circumstances would 
she reveal to anyone that the 'very intimate' incident with the girl 
was anything more than an unfortunate misunderstanding.  Could 
have happened to anyone.
  Kirk finally came down off the hill.
  "So where the heck are these people, Uhura?  Do you have any idea 
where my kamacara might be, or what she's up to?  Where the hell is 
she?"
  Uhura smiled.  "If she's like the Sa'o, she's 'doing life,' Captain, and 
she'll be here when it's time.  Time is not an absolute value in Sa'o 
cultures," Uhura explained.  "It's a process.  A cycle, or a series of 
cycles which seldom, if ever, have anything to do with externally 
imposed deadlines or constraints.  'Early,' 'late,' and so on, have no 
meaning in kamacara partnerships," Uhura went on, to Kirk's obvious 
disbelief.  "Someone or something is 'on time' when it is completed in 
the natural flow of life."
  "Terrific," Kirk thought.  "I'm just gonna love these people."

  The teams rendezvoused back at the shuttle two hours later, as per 
the plan.  Their alien hosts had yet to put in an appearance.  Kirk 
reminded himself of Uhura's assessment of the situation, and told 
himself not to worry.  It didn't work.  He felt entirely out of his 
element, and no longer trusted his instincts where these people were 
concerned.  
  Kirk didn't want to make plans without his hosts, but further delay 
could jeopardize the evacuation. It was clear the sun would go down 
soon, and he had to use every moment.  Finally, he felt he could wait 
no longer.
  "All right, let's get started.  Mr. Murphy, let's have your team's report."
  The young officer responded immediately and efficiently.
  "There is no question that this planet can sustain us quite 
comfortably, Captain.  Food, water, and shelter are readily available, 
although it's going to be primarily a vegetarian diet.  Weather in this 
location appears to be mild, by earth standards, although Vulcans 
will find it cool.  Temperatures range from 8 to 14 degrees 
centigrade, with the lower readings occurring almost entirely at 
night.  Precipitation appears to be primarily in the form of morning 
fogs and 'marine air', although there are signs of occasional light 
rains."
  "In short," Chekov interrupted, "if ve die of anything in this climate, 
it's likely to be boredom."
  Murphy gave a short, harsh laugh of agreement.
  "That's how it looks to me, too, sir."
  "Anything else on the local geography, Mister?," Kirk asked.
  "We have a full report ready to download, sir," Murphy nodded.  
"Essentially, our scans show no hazardous lifeforms or natural 
conditions in this area, sir.  The planet is geologically stable, and 
what changes have occurred on the local terrain recently, have been 
by slow, natural erosion.  Weather patterns read as moderate, and 
there are some micro-climates in the vicinity that actually appear 
subtropical, sir."
  Murphy glanced at his team to see if anyone had any additions.  He 
caught a hopeful look on one face.
  "Oh, there is one more thing, sir.  Readings indicate several lakes in 
the valley off to the west, Captain.  There's some hope that we can 
settle in the vicinity of one of them."
  "I'll keep it in mind when I negotiate with the local Chamber of 
Commerce, gentlemen," Kirk replied coolly.  He turned to Chekov.  
  "What about it, Commander?  Are we safe here?"
  Pavel nodded affirmatively.
  "I vould hev to agree with that report, sair.  There are no signs of 
dangerous animals, veapons or other hostile technology.  Not ewen 
poisonous plants, sair," the Russian responded.  "From everything ve 
hev, this is a werry safe location, Kepten."
  Kirk turned his chair towards his most senior officers.
  "Is that opinion unanimous, gentlemen?," he asked.
  McCoy glanced quickly at Spock.  The latter's head was cocked off 
towards the south.  
  _What the hell is with him?_, McCoy wondered.  He's been doing that 
all afternoon.
  "Well," McCoy began, when Spock did not immediately reply to Kirk's 
inquiry, "I agree that that's what the data says on its face, but there 
are some things that just don't sit right with me, Captain."
  Kirk sat up straighter.
  "Such as, doctor?"
  "I didn't find anything obviously or immediately dangerous, but 
there are some anomalies in this data that suggest this isn't quite the 
paradise it appears to be.  Absent species, for instance.  There are no 
insects in this area.  There are no reptiles in this area.  There are no 
identifiable predators in this area, and when I checked with Sulu it 
seems we've yet to pick up a sign that any of these species exist 
elsewhere on the continent, Captain."
  Kirk listened carefully as McCoy continued.  
  "Ship's scans are incomplete, but there are signs of planet-wide gaps 
among the species of higher mammals, and an overall lack of 
diversity in non-plant species that suggests to me that something 
pretty darned dramatic has happened down here to distort the 
ecosystem of this planet."
  "Couldn't it just be a feature of the natural evolution of life here?  I 
mean, maybe there never were insects or predators on this world," 
Kirk posited.
  "No way," McCoy answered, in response to the first question.  "I don't 
believe this world managed to selectively evolve the species I can 
identify, and yet miss entire classes or kingdoms of living things that 
are a related evolutionary development everyplace else that we've 
been in the galaxy."
  "This place has yet to be like anyplace else we've been in the galaxy, 
doctor," Kirk observed wryly.
  "I hear you.  But I don't buy the idea that this is a natural, normal 
ecology we're seeing here.  Something has distorted it."
  "How about it, Spock?"  Kirk spun his chair towards his Science 
Officer.  "Do you concur with that analysis?"
  The Vulcan turned his head toward the Captain.
  "I agree that the ecology of this world is...skewed, Captain," Spock 
responded, demonstrating that he had been following the 
conversation despite his behavior.  "What I do not concede is that 
this is an unnatural development."
  McCoy was annoyed by the dispute.
  "Now just a minute, you...,"  the doctor glanced towards the junior 
officers in the shuttle, and quickly changed tacks,  "...have to agree 
that it's pretty damned unlikely that this planet evolved the species 
we can identify here, without evolving any of the insects, predators, 
or other groups that usually are found with them," McCoy challenged.
  "It is not only 'pretty darned unlikely,' doctor, I should say the odds 
against such an occurrence are in excess of 137,843,555 to 1."
  "Well, then...," McCoy began.
  "The point, doctor," Spock interrupted, "is what is natural and what is 
not.  I believe these species once existed here, Captain.  I also believe 
they are now extinct.  Certainly, they do not exist in this vicinity, and 
given the conditions of this area, I would expect them to be present 
unless they were extinct," Spock said levelly.
  "My point is simply that, left to her own devices, 'Mother Nature,' 
despite the way you humans so fondly romanticize her, can be an 
unforgiving and merciless mistress, entirely capable of exterminating 
whole species without the interference of 'outside' forces.  The 
dinosaurs 'naturally' disappeared from your Earth, long before the 
advent of man.  I believe similar forces account for the 'distorted' 
ecology we are encountering here."
  "That's not very reassuring, Spock," Kirk observed.  "I really don't 
care how 'naturally' the dinosaurs died.  The point is, they're dead.  
If a lot of species haven't made it on this world, I want to know what 
killed them, and whether it's still around."
  Spock evaluated the discussion silently for a moment.
  "Perhaps I can make the situation clearer, Captain.  You are, of 
course, correct, that we need to review our data for any indications 
that whatever caused the loss of these species is still operative here.  
Our preliminary analysis does not indicate that it is.  However, we 
should review the data again and thoroughly assess that concern.  
Nevertheless, the most likely explanation for this situation, in my 
opinion, is the age of this planet and the low level of scientific and 
technological development of the indigenous humanoid species."
  Kirk looked at Spock in surprise.
  "We donUt usually associate science and technology with saving an 
ecosystemUs diversity, Spock."
  "That is true, Captain, in their early stages.  However, if a humanoid 
culture survives its nuclear age, it usually undergoes a 
transformation in which science and technology are employed to 
preserve species, often in opposition to 'natural' forces that would 
push them towards extinction.  I believe this ecology reflects the 
effect of unimpeded natural selection on an ancient world, Captain, 
without the moderating influence of the protection from enlightened 
science and technology."
  Kirk turned back to the group.
  "Well, people.  You have your work cut out for you.  I want you to 
work over your data until we can be certain that whatever killed the 
missing species isn't presently a threat.  Have Cmdr. Sulu focus the 
ship's scanners on this area to assist you."
  Kirk stood up and moved to the shuttle exit.  He nodded toward 
Spock and McCoy.
  "Let's step outside while they work on that project."  Kirk could tell 
from Spock's look that he was going to ask to stay and assist with the 
analysis.  "Come with us, Mr. Spock.  I want you to join us on a walk."
  The Vulcan followed the Captain and the doctor outside, into the cool 
twilight air.  When they had moved a few dozen meters away from 
the shuttle, Kirk stepped in front of his alien friend.
  "What the hell is with you, Spock?"
  The Science Officer turned his head back toward the Captain.
  "Sir?  I do not understand.  To what are you referring, Captain?"
  "That.  What you just did.  What are you doing with your head, 
Spock?," Kirk demanded.  "You look like you're listening for 
something."
  "Listening?,"  Spock shook his head.  "No, I am not listening for 
anything, sir."
  "He's been doing it all day," McCoy volunteered.  "Always got his 
head cocked towards the south."
  "Indeed?," Spock asked.
  "So what is it, Spock?," Kirk insisted again.
  "I do not know, Captain.  I was not aware of my behavior," the 
Vulcan explained innocently.
  McCoy intervened again.
  "I've run tricorder readings in that direction, Jim.  I can't pick up 
anything out of the ordinary.  Our lady friend is down in that 
direction, but that's about it."
  Kirk turned to the doctor in surprise.
  "How do you know that?," he inquired.
  McCoy blushed.
  "The medical scanner 'Ah-dar-ah'...," Kirk raised his eyebrows at 
McCoy's name for the alien girl, "...borrowed is sending back a steady 
stream of information, Jim.  I'd say your kamacara is about 5 km in 
that direction."  McCoy checked his tricorder.  "Could be she's headed 
this way."
  Kirk stared at his Science Officer.
  "Is it possible you're in communication with these beings, Spock?"
  The Vulcan shook his head.
  "I do not believe so, Captain."  Spock shifted uncomfortably, and 
inhaled deeply.  "I...am...experiencing... discomfort, Captain.  A sense 
of dis-ease.  There is no logical reason for my reaction, sir, and I am 
reluctant to talk about it until I can be more precise."
  Kirk stood silently evaluating Spock for a long time.  He shot a look at 
McCoy.  The doctor finished a quick scan of the Science Officer, then 
shook his head to indicate there was nothing medically wrong with 
the Vulcan.
  "All right, Spock," Kirk conceded, "we'll leave it for now.  But," the 
Captain emphasized to his notoriously stubborn friend, "I want you 
to follow up on your examinations and treatments with Dr. McCoy, 
understand?  No arguments.  No trouble.  Just do what he says."
  "Acknowledged, Captain," Spock reluctantly conceded.
  McCoy did his best not to gloat.
  Kirk turned away for a moment and studied the scene to the south.  
  He couldn't see far in the failing light.  He tried to recall anything 
unusual in that direction from his personal observations during the 
shuttle flight that afternoon.  Nothing out of the ordinary came to 
mind.  All the same, if Spock was reacting to something vaguely 
disturbing in that direction, Kirk was resolved to investigate. 
  "We'll make checking out that area our first priority after the 
encampment is established, gentlemen," Kirk announced.  "If our 
hosts are in that area, it should be easy--and appropriate--to have a 
nice, friendly visit.  Meanwhile," he said, as he turned back toward 
them, "we'll make our own settlement a bit further north, at least 
until I know there's no danger in whatever Spock's reacting to 
around here.  I don't think our hosts will mind."
  "We could not tell if they did, Captain," Spock observed.
  Kirk did not respond.  
  After a moment, he playfully cocked his head towards his friends.
  "How about it, gentlemen?  Would you like to live in the wide open 
spaces, or would you prefer a wooded lot on a hillside--something 
with a view, perhaps?" 
  McCoy chuckled at Kirk's joke, although the banter was lost on Spock.
  "Captain?  Would we not select the most logical site for our 
encampment after an analysis of relevant..."
  "Spock, Spock, Spock," Kirk shook his head sadly.  "What am I going 
to do with you, Mr. Spock?  The real estate market on this planet is 
wide open, Spock!  You need to think of the future."
  Spock still didn't get Kirk's joke.
  "No?," Kirk asked his friend.  "Well then, I'm going to consider my 
sanity.  I don't care how logical it is, I'm not living in the middle of 
that damn sea of grass!"  
  McCoy nodded gratefully.  Kirk pursed his lips, then continued.
  "Of course, we can't ignore logic completely.  All that flat land makes 
a terrific staging area for the evacuation, and we'll need a base for 
when we repair and restore the ship..."  Kirk appeared not to notice 
the reactions of his friends to the last remark.
  "...so we can't move to the valley floor," Kirk mused.  "If only all the 
trees weren't in the valley,' he complained.
  "Perhaps this will suit you, Captain," Spock offered, showing a scene 
on his tricorder.  "It is lightly forested, on relatively flat terrain at 
the northern end of the valley, sir.  As you can see, sir, there is 
almost a half kilometer of forest at the edge of the grassland, before 
the ground begins to drop away.  There is a small lake nearby, and it 
should be easily accessible--the valley walls at this location are 
considerably less steep than they are further south, Captain." 
  Kirk studied the image on the tricorder, then looked up at Spock as 
the last of the sun's rays streaked across the sky.
  "Mr. Spock, this is perfect!  Why, in close proximity, we have 
grassland for the base, forest for the encampment, and a lake for 
recreation."  Kirk grinned at his friend.  "You missed your calling Mr. 
Spock.  What a real estate agent you could have been!"  
  Spock stared at his friend in bewilderment.
  But don't worry, Spock, Kirk thought to himself, as he fought the 
bitterness that surged within him, if we don't get out of here, you 
may still be able to have a whole, new career.

  Murphy glanced up from the video terminal where an analysis of 
their data was feeding down from the ship's main computers.  He 
watched Chekov's face as the latter reviewed the conclusions.
  "You have the feed, Pavel?," Sulu called over the communicator.
  "Coming through now.  Gev me a moment to review it," the Russian 
responded.
  "Fair enough," Sulu responded.
  Murphy poured over the material alongside the First Officer.  
  When they had both gone through the conclusions and supporting 
data, the two officers looked at each other uncomfortably.
  "There sure as hell is nothing in this data that shows any present 
threat to life or health, sir," Murphy stated emphatically, "but Dr. 
McCoy was right.  There sure as hell have been an awful lot of 
species that didnUt make it on this world."
  Chekov nodded grimly.
  "You there, Chekov?," Sulu called.
  Chekov acknowledged the hail.
  "What do you think?," Sulu asked with his usual equanimity.
  "I think thet, all-in-all, I'd rather be in Leningrad."
  Sulu laughed briefly.
  "I know what you mean.  The data says this place is a paradise of 
healthful living, but it also says that most of the non-plant life on 
this continent died.  Sure doesn't do wonders for my sense of well-
being, either.  Better get the Captain and Spock so we can go over 
this," Sulu ordered.

  Kirk, Spock, and McCoy walked slowly back towards the shuttle.
  "Any sign of the young lady, doctor?," Kirk asked.
  McCoy consulted his tricorder.
  "She's somewhere to the south of us, Jim.  I still say she's moving in 
this direction, but she seems to be taking her own sweet time about 
it."
  Kirk smiled ruefully to himself in the dark.
  "It's not part of the 'natural flow of life' to hurry," he said in a 
strange voice.
  "Huh?," the doctor asked.
  "Something Uhura told me about the Sa'o," Kirk explained as they 
trudged along.  "By the way, Bones, what was that you called the girl 
earlier?"
  "Oh.  I just got tired of referring to her as 'she', or 'hey, you.'  I 
decided she needed a name, and I just made one up out of the only 
thing she's said."  The doctor put away his tricorder.  "I think 'Adara' 
has a nice sound to it, don't you?"
  Kirk opened his mouth to respond just as Chekov came up to them 
out of the darkness.  The younger man told them Sulu was ready to 
report on the health and safety issues.  
  The group of officers quickly reentered the shuttle, and clustered 
around the video display.  Spock pulled up the completed analysis of 
the ship's and landing partys' data on a terminal, and began his own 
evaluation.  Kirk signalled Sulu on the shuttle's communicator.
  "Captain," Sulu began.  "The analysis of our data is complete."  
  Kirk told him to continue. 
  Sulu's voice was serious.
  "Dr. McCoy is correct that there has been significant loss of life in this 
region, sir.  As best we can tell with the equipment we've got, ocean 
and aquatic life appears to be unaffected, but land and avian species 
on the continent have been heavily impacted by a force or agent we 
cannot identify.  With the damage the ship's scanners sustained we 
don't know yet if these conditions are planet-wide.  But there can 
be no doubt that there's been significant loss of life on that continent, 
Captain.  What we can't identify, at present, is what caused it."
  "What are the prime suspects, Sulu?," Kirk asked.
  "Two, sir.  Biological agents, of which none have been identified," Sulu 
responded, "and natural disasters, of which there were many.  That's 
not a single landmass, Captain," Sulu explained.  "Scans indicate that 
what we're calling a continent is actually comprised of three 
subcontinental-sized landmasses, whose tectonic plates were in 
collision at the time of planetary solidification.  That huge lake near 
you is actually the remnant of an inland sea that was trapped 
between the colliding landmasses.  There was a lot of action, 
geologically speaking, in that part of the planet, Captain."
  Kirk turned to his Science Officer.
  "How about it, Spock?"
  The Vulcan looked up from the terminal.
  "Capt. Sulu is correct that there was enormous geologic activity in 
this area, Captain.  Much more so than on the rest of this world, it 
would appear.  The forces that produced the mountain range to the 
north were enormous, and were present over a sustained period.  
The two lower plates, and the landmasses they carried, were literally 
being driven towards each other as well as over the southern shore 
of the more rapidly cooling northern plate.  I would say cataclysmic 
earthquakes and massive vertical uplifts were relatively 
commonplace for a portion of this region's history."
  "So you think the problem was geological, then, Spock?," Kirk 
concluded.
  "I did not say that, Captain."  Spock frowned.  "I cannot say that from 
the data at hand.  I can only agree with Capt. Sulu that the two most 
likely causes of the loss of life in this area are biological agents 
and/or geologic forces and their consequences.  I cannot be more 
specific than that with the available data, sir."
  It was Kirk's turn to frown.
  "Is there anything else you can tell from the data, Spock?"
  "I believe that whatever happened here virtually eliminated animal 
as well as insect life on this continent, Captain, and that this area is 
only now being repopulated with humanoid and other animal 
species, sir."
  At Kirk's look of surprise, Spock continued.
  "The peninsula at the southern end of the continent was formed from 
what was once a river delta at the southern end of the inland sea.  It 
is therefore of relatively recent origin.  With two exceptions, all of the 
settlements of the indigenous humanoids and all of the animal life 
we can identify in any profusion, are located on that peninsula.  
There are only two settlements on the main landmass itself.  Our 
'hosts' landed near the northern-most.  I would say these 
circumstances exist because this area is only now being repopulated after 
whatever catastrophe occurred."
  "I concur with that, Captain," Sulu chimed in.
  Kirk rubbed his eyes for the millionth time since they'd been torn 
across the galaxy from Menata.  Was there trouble in paradise, he 
asked himself, or were they being generously offered the 
opportunity to settle here because some ancient disaster had left the 
land virtually vacant?  If those disasters had been natural, geologic 
forces, the planet's present stability should allow them to settle 
safely.
  But if the problem had been biological...
  "Spock," Kirk demanded, "does the data indicate how long ago this 
loss of life occurred?"
  The Vulcan nodded.
  "I would say no less than 10,000 years ago, Captain."
  Kirk breathed a sigh of relief.
  "That should pretty well eliminate a threat from either biological or 
geological agents, shouldn't it, Spock?"
  The Vulcan shook his head.
  "Not necessarily, Captain.  There are a variety of simple, but deadly 
organisms in the known galaxy that can remain dormant for 
thousands of years, and revive to fatal effect once new prey or host 
organisms arrive.  They are rare, to be certain.  But," Spock looked at 
Kirk squarely, "they do exist."
  Kirk turned to McCoy.
  "Do you know the organisms he's talking about?," Kirk asked.
  The doctor nodded.
  "He's right, Jim.  The ones that could last that long are very rare, but 
they do exist.  But Jim," the doctor said reassuringly, "our medical 
scans are sophisticated enough to detect them, or any organism like 
them.  I don't find any evidence of such an organism here."
  Kirk stepped away from the others.  Whatever decision was made 
would be his alone.  Whatever the consequences, he would have 
chosen them for his crew.
  It wasn't like they had another attractive choice, he told himself, as 
he struggled with his discomfort about this data.  They were dead if 
they didn't evacuate the ship.  If there was a remote possibility of 
death on the surface from disease, Kirk knew that many of his crew 
would gladly take that risk.  Still, Kirk did not want to get sloppy, lest 
he expose the crew to unnecessary danger because he overlooked 
some obscure, but avoidable risk.  Spock's reactions to 
some...thing...he was not aware of, was another factor Kirk needed to 
consider.
  The Captain returned to his officers.
  "I think our hosts expected us to settle in this immediate area, 
gentlemen.  But, under the circumstances, I want a little more 
distance between us, and I prefer the conditions at a location Science 
Chief Spock has identified a little further north.  We'll move there."  
  Kirk spoke emphatically to his two senior officers.  "I want both of 
you to be on the alert for anything that may signal that we have a 
medical problem down here," he ordered firmly.
  He turned to SuluUs image on the viewing screen.
  "Start the evacuation," Kirk commanded.

  The shuttles came down in a steady relay, bringing Scotty and his 
surviving engineers to set up the staging area for the main 
evacuation.
  Karl Murphy had a secondary specialty in engineering, and quickly 
volunteered to fill out Scotty's depleted ranks.  He spent the long 
night coordinating the movement of shuttles and the material they 
carried, manhandling gear into position, preparing landing sites and 
off-loading zones.  It was back-breaking work even with automated 
equipment and anti-grav's.
  Near dawn, the Lieutenant finally got to take a much-needed break.  
He sat in exhaustion as yet another shuttle hovered down to a 
landing and began engine shut-down.  
  Murphy noticed a faint glow in the eastern sky.  It would be daylight 
soon.  Still, he thought, as he looked around him, without light from 
urban areas it stayed pretty damned dark on this world.
  A faint sparkle of light off in the blackness to the southwest caught 
his eye.  It reminded him of fireflies, the way it was bobbing about 
in the distance.  It seemed only mildly interesting, and in any event, 
Murphy was too exhausted to stand up to investigate flickering little 
lights.  If it was something significant, the Security and science 
personnel they'd assembled on the surface would check it out.
  Murphy kept a weary eye on the shuttle hatch.  It was at least 
mildly entertaining to watch the reactions of the new arrivals from 
the ship to their new 'home away from home'.  
  Everyone who arrived on the surface was not a fan of the outdoor 
life.  The crew members with more urban tastes in entertainment 
and lifestyles often groaned as they emerged from the shuttle.
  The fireflies grew larger.  Murphy watched them with more interest.  
  They seemed to be coming closer, the Lieutenant noted.  A blue orb 
now shone steadily among the small dots of light approaching him.
  Murphy's attention was absorbed by the approaching lights, and he 
paid only scant attention to the latest crew members who exited the 
shuttle and filed towards him.
  "Hey, Lieutenant.  Where's the nightlife on this rock?," asked a 
particularly unimpressed young man.
  Murphy cast a quick glance of amused sympathy at the questioner, 
then turned his attention back to the glittering lights.
  'Adara' stepped out of the darkness.
  "I'm looking at it, Chief.  I'm looking at it."

                            (To be continued.....)

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