Authors: Alan Dean Foster
McCoy shook his head. "No. It means I'd better get started. Let's see . . . I'm going to need Nurse Chapel, and Ensigns M'baww and Prox to help with the beginning research, certain equipment . . . and I'm sure the Lactrans will have suggestions and instruments I'll have to learn about."
Kirk was studying the equipment set in consoles and banks throughout the chamber. "There's plenty to keep the rest of us occupied in the meantime, Bones. I don't think the Boquses will object to answering a few questions."
"We do not, Captain Kirk," Hivar the Toq admitted softly, "so long as there are any of us left to answer."
With the aid of Hivar and information relayed from various centers of research on Boqu, McCoy made progress which surprised him. It took two weeks to understand what the result of the disease was.
"I know what's happening to the Boqus now, Jim," he explained, "but as to the cause, I've no more idea than they do." He gazed helplessly around the small medical lab which had been set up in the shuttlecrawler, enabling him to work outside the constraints of a life-support belt.
He gestured toward a table laden with slides and instruments. It reminded Kirk of something familiar, yet elusive. His attention was taken by McCoy.
"Something is causing an alteration in the structure of the Boqus' upper parts, changing the chemical composition in such a way that death is inevitable. Imagine the blood in your veins suddenly petrifying and you'll have some idea of what's happening to Hivar and the others.
"I've spent days hunting for a way to attack this thing and, Jim, I don't have the faintest notion of how to begin. This is as alien to my experience as we are to the Boqus."
"I have a suggestion, Doctor McCoy," came a prickling inside their heads.
"Who's that, Spock?" Kirk asked.
"One of the Boquian scientists who has traveled many
nevars
to reach here," the first officer explained. "It has been observing us at work and has considered the situation. Our presence—our very existence—has given it an idea it wishes to propose."
"I'm all . . . whatever it is I'm supposed to listen with," McCoy announced.
"There is no need to tense, Doctor," soothed Spock. "The idea has been communicated to me to relay to you. It is suggested that since your function is the study and treatment of carbon-based forms, you consult with one of the many on board the
Enterprise
who are experts in compounds of silicon."
"Spock," Kirk began, "we've already explained to them that life based on silicon instead of carbon is unknown—was unknown—to us until we came here. We have no one who—"
"Of course!" McCoy blurted unexpectedly. He ignored first Kirk's stare, then his query, as he hurried to the forward intercom. "
Enterprise
,
Enterprise
!" When no reply was immediately forthcoming, he stared angrily at the console. "Now what's the matter? Don't our maintenance techs realize that delays . . .!"
Spock quietly activated the communications unit for him and stood aside.
This time McCoy's entreaties were rewarded with a flood of static, as the communicator strove to force its way through dense atmosphere and the barrage of internal Boquian radiation.
"
Enterprise
, Lieutenant Uhura speaking. Is that you, Dr. McCoy?"
"Yes, Uhura. I want to speak to Lieutenant K'ang Te." He glanced at Spock as if for confirmation, and the first officer nodded readily.
Kirk searched his memory for one name out of the hundreds on board the
Enterprise
. K'ang Te, lieutenant; Sciences; head of the geology section.
Then he wondered why he hadn't thought of it. It had been a Boqus's turn to find a different approach . . .
With the veteran mineralogist's assistance, McCoy began to make progress—man and woman, physician and geologist, working together in search of a solution. Kirk watched them drive themselves mercilessly and wondered worriedly which they would find first—an answer, or total exhaustion.
It appeared to Kirk to be a dead heat between the two possibilities when McCoy, drawn from the work and the debilitating affect of hard labor under an extra half gravity, staggered onto the bridge a week and a day later.
"Bones, you look terrible!" Kirk exclaimed.
"I know. And I feel wonderful!"
"You—you did it, then? You actually found a solution?"
"K'ang Te and I, yes . . . At least, we think so."
Kirk looked past him. "Where is the lieutenant?"
"In Sick Bay, where I sent her." A hint of a smile graced the doctor's dry lips. "It's easy to prescribe treatment for someone when you're suffering the same symptoms." He sank gratefully into a seat vacated by Spock, too tired to counter the gesture with sarcasm—or too thankful for the small courtesy.
"I am certain the solution is as fascinating as the disease, Doctor," Spock ventured, by way of impelling McCoy to explanation.
"You don't know the tenth of it, Spock. The trouble was with their circulatory system—you ought to see it, Jim! Their blood, if we can call it that, is thicker than machine oil, and flows just fast enough to be called something better than paralyzed. In past centuries certain crucial components within the blood haven't been breaking down as they should have. Call it a buildup of impurities, if you will. The Boqus thought something in their own systems responsible for handling the breakdown of these impurities had failed, and they've been going slowly insane trying to discover it. We found it, but the real problem was finding an antidote." He shook his head slowly. "The Boqus were too close to the problem."
"As so often happens," Spock finished for him. "I am intrigued, Doctor. What kind of remedy did you discover capable of affecting the buildup of unwanted substances in the 'blood' of a silicon-based creature?"
"To begin with, Spock, I had to disregard, throw out, forget, and otherwise ignore everything I knew about serums and standard antidote chemistry. Not only did it seem unlikely I'd be able to find something the Boquian researchers had missed, but I wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to go about inoculating a rock—for all its stiffly formal mobility, I can't help thinking of Hivar and its kind in those terms. Our eventual solution came from medicine by way of physics, born out of mineralogy." He settled himself into a chair, lowering himself gently.
"According to their meteorological records, Boqu is periodically afflicted with long periods of constant storm. We nearly hit one of them on our way down—remember the tremendous lightning display?"
Both Kirk and Spock recalled that casually awesome discharge of energy clearly.
"After more experimentation and search than I care to think about, we discovered that in the case of this last series of storms, the cloud layer over most of inhabited Boqu had become so thick as to block out certain radiations from the system's feeble sun. This was accomplished by having Astrophysics prepare a complete breakdown of the radiation the sun was putting out, and comparing it with readings taken on the surface. From that point, we had to proceed with special caution. One of those screened-out wavelengths might be responsible for breaking down the unwanted substances in the Boqus' blood—but the others might prove lethal if too strong a dose was delivered."
He sighed slowly. "As it turned out, nothing of the sort happened, though that didn't keep all involved from worrying constantly about it. We tried four different radiants on several fatally ill Boqus. Two did nothing, the third made the experimental subject retch remarkably, and the fourth—the fourth had its subject on its, uh, feet in a few hours. Similar radiation treatments ought to have most of Boqu back to normal inside a month. The equipment involved is simple to reproduce. A technical team is on the surface now, helping them set up facilities for duplicating the proper projectors."
"Fascinating, Doctor," commented Spock with admiration. "I would enjoy a more detailed look into such a unique physiology."
McCoy's expression turned solemn. "That shouldn't be too hard a wish to fulfill, Spock. At present Boqu enjoys a surplus of corpses. They'd probably find the dissection of a Vulcan cadaver equally interesting."
"Undoubtedly," agreed the first officer, missing the irony of the doctor's statement completely.
Unexpectedly, McCoy grinned. He leaned his head on his left hand as he reminisced. "I don't think we'll ever see a Boqus jump. They're not constructed for leaping. But, Jim, when that last patient suddenly showed signs of recovery and we knew we'd found the answer, Hivar and the Boqus medical scientists present came as near to kicking up their heels as their bodies permit."
"How long does the treatment last?" Kirk wanted to know.
McCoy considered. "Only about one of our weeks. So until the intensity of this severe storm cycle begins to lessen, every Boqus will have to spend about fifteen minutes a week under a radiation projector in order for its blood to return to normal—like humans used to do under sun lamps."
Spock looked querulous. " 'Sun lamp,' Captain?"
"An old obsession of people in the Dark Ages, Mr. Spock. Many of them used to spend hours, even days, under the concentrated radiation of an ultraviolet generator, trying to artificially darken their skin."
The first officer's confused expression did not fade. "I see, Captain. But I was under the impression that during that period of human history the humans with light-toned skin discriminated against the darker humans."
"That's right, Spock," Kirk admitted.
Spock's puzzlement deepened. "Then why would the light-skinned humans try to burn their skin dark? This is not logical, Captain."
"Human actions of the Dark Ages rarely were, Spock. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall that certain humans of dark skin used artificial means to try to lighten their skin."
"So the light-skinned humans tried to make their skins dark, and some of the dark-skinned humans tried to make theirs light?"
"You've got it, Spock."
The first officer assumed an air of finality. "I will never understand human beings fully, Captain."
"Don't worry about it, Spock," advised McCoy, for once in complete agreement with him, "you've got plenty of company. Actually, if you bother to consider that . . ." He stopped in mid-sentence, aware that the first officer was no longer listening. Instead, Spock's mind was drawn to something deeper.
"It is the Lactrans, Captain," he finally declared, confirming what the watching Kirk and McCoy had already suspected. "Though growing impatient, they applaud Dr. McCoy's ability and great talent in finding a solution to the Boquian epidemic."
"It's not a question of talent," an embarrassed McCoy muttered, "just persistence."
"I have so informed them," Spock added drily. "They wish to know if we have made inquiries among the Boqus for their help in locating and capturing a jawanda."
"They can ask our hosts themselves shortly." Kirk thumbed a switch on the chair arm, activating the intercom.
"Engineering," a familiar voice acknowledged.
"Scotty, this is the captain. How is that special tech section coming on those big life-support belts for the Lactrans?"
"I was about to call in myself, sir," the chief engineer told him. "They're undergoin' final tests. I think our guests will be pleased with them. No need to use the shuttlecrawler any more. It wasn't too difficult a job—even for us 'primitive types.' Just time-consumin'. They can even take 'em off and put 'em on themselves, with those flexible snouts of theirs."
"Thank you, Scotty. Kirk out." He turned back to the motionless Spock. "You can tell our friends they can describe jawanda-catching requirements to Hivar the Toq in person. Mr. Scott's people have built three specially modified life-support belts for them. They can beam down to the surface with us."
When they beamed down that afternoon, Kirk saw hints of tremendous activity in the direction of the formerly moribund city. On the nearest outskirts, crews of rejuvenated Boqus were at work in incomprehensible machinery, modifying certain structures, demolishing others, building still more.
Obviously, McCoy's antidote was already having extensive effects. Certainly, the captain thought as they made their way cautiously through the heavy gravity of Boqu, Hivar and its colleagues should now be overjoyed enough to provide all the aid the Lactrans desired.
Those three massive aliens were sliding along smoothly behind Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. The captain envied them their ease of locomotion in the Boquian gravity.
At the moment they were deep in conversation among themselves, long front ends bobbing and weaving as they conversed at a speed which to human minds was only a confusing, head-throbbing blur. Enormous lightning flashes arced from thick clouds to ground off to the north.
"What are they so intent on, Mr. Spock?" his curiosity finally prompted him to ask. "The electrical display?"
"No, Captain." Kirk forced his way through thick, clinging mud that wasn't there. "The laboratory structure of Hivar the Toq." Kirk gazed at it, but saw nothing remarkable about the large building save its lack of windows.
"What about it intrigues them so?"
"The acuteness of its construction, Captain. It is all sharp angles and abutments, excepting the roof, whereas Lactran architecture is based on an absence of sharpness. Their buildings and machines, if you recall our stay on Lactra, were all rounded—curves, ovoids, hemispheres and circles. It seems that structure follows form. The Lactrans are as rounded as their constructs, the Boqus as sharp-edged as theirs."
"And what about us?" asked McCoy curiously. Spock paused a moment.
"We are considered acute formations by the Lactrans and curvilinear by the Boqus. It seems we partake of something of both."
"So we're mediators in form as well as in fact," noted Kirk. "It's nice to be consistent."
This time the last door of reflective metal was open, awaiting their arrival. Scott probably could have beamed them directly into the central chamber, but Kirk wanted Hivar to have time to prepare for their arrival—and it might prove useful to discover if the Lactrans could negotiate the building's passageways.