Star Trek - TOS 38 Idic Epidemic

Scanned by
comicnut

Version 1.0 - Mostly proofread for paragraph marks, spelling and italics

The
Idic
Epidemic

I.D.I.C — Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination. More than just a simple credo, for those of the planet Vulcan it is the cornerstone of their philosophy.

Now, on the Vulcan Science Colony Nisus, that credo of tolerance is being put to its sternest test. For here, on a planet where Vulcan, human, Klingon, and countless other races live and work side by side, a deadly plague has sprung up. A plague whose origins are somehow rooted in the concept of I.D.I.C. itself. A plague that threatens to tear down that centuries-old maxim and replace it with an even older concept.

Interstellar War

STAR TREK

THE IDIC EPIDEMIC

BY

JEAN LORRAH

First Pocket books printing February 1988

Foreword

I would like to thank Gene Roddenberry, the creator
Star Trek,
which has been an important influence in my life.

William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, DeForest Kelly, Mark
Lenard (Sarek), Jane Wyatt (Amanda), and all the other
actors who brought
Star Trek
characters to life,

Star Trek
fandom, which over many years has provided a
forum for the stories I—and so many other fans—needed
to tell,

and the
Star Trek Welcommittee,
who for many years has
served to bring fans who love
Star Trek
to know and share
their interests with one another.

I have been a
Star Trek
fan since 1966, when the original
live episodes first appeared. I learned to write through
fanzines, and made many wonderful friends through Trek
fandom. I recommend it to all of you who have Trek stories to tell: get involved in fandom and learn to tell them. Then, (
if you want to be a professional writer, take workshops and
study books on creative writing to learn the procedure of
turning from amateur to professional. Don’t write to profes
sional writers, asking them to tell you how—they are too
busy writing books for you. They haven’t time to write
letters trying to explain in words something that can only
learned by doing. Books and workshops will get you started;
the experience you can only get with practice.

Whether you want to write or not, if you love
Star Trek
you will love fandom. Paramount now sponsors a fan club
with a bimonthly newsletter to tell you all the latest news
about the movies, the TV series, and the actors and crea
tors:

The Official
Star Trek
Fan Club

P.O.Box 111000

Aurora, CO 80011

But
Trekfandom
is not limited to the fan club. If you
write or draw or make music or costumes or want to interact
with other fans, you want the original fandom: friends and letters and crafts and fanzines and trivia and costumes and
artwork and filksongs [sic] and posters and buttons and games and film clips and conventions—something for
everybody who has in common the inspiration of a televi
sion show which has grown far beyond its TV and film
incarnations to become a living part of world culture.

The way to that fandom is not through me, or any other
author
of Star Trek
novels. You want that wonderful organi
zation, the
Star Trek Welcommittee.
Be
sure
to enclose a
stamped self-addressed envelope, as this is a purely volun
teer, nonprofit organization of people who love
Star Trek
and are willing to answer your questions and put you in
touch with other fans. The current address is

Star Trek
Welcommittee

P.O. Drawer 12

Saranac, MI 48881.

In both
Trekwriting
and my other professional science fiction, I have a strong belief in the interaction between authors and fans. Authors want your constructive com
ments. They cannot collaborate with you, write the stories
you want to tell (you’ll have to do that yourself), or critique
your novels (they’re busy writing their own). All authors,
though, are happy to receive comments about their books,
and most will answer questions. If you would like to
comment on this or any of my books, you may write to me
in care of my publishers, or at P.O. Box 625, Murray, KY
42071. If your letter requires an answer, please enclose a
stamped self-addressed envelope.

Keep on
Trekkin
’!

Jean
Lorrah

Murray, Kentucky

P.S.
The IDIC Epidemic
is a sequel to
The Vulcan Academy Murders,
which is also available from Pocket Books. Please don’t feel that you can’t read
this
book
without the earlier one, though. All the
Star Trek
novels are
designed
like
episodes, so that it doesn’t hurt to miss some
or read them out of order. If you
like
The IDIC Epidemic
you can later find
The Vulcan Academy Murders,
by the
same author.

Chapter One

Only the members of the Nisus Council were in the
refectory, and only computerized food was available.
The kitchen was closed for the duration of the epi
demic.

Thought Master Korsal dialed up coffee, black, the
way Cathy had taught him to like it, and started
toward a table where two Vulcans and an Andorian
were seated.

“Korsal!” His name was softly hissed in a voice he
knew well. It was Borth, the Orion representative to
the council. “Come, sit with me.” He drew Korsal to a
two-person table and activated the privacy shield.

The Klingon reached for the switch to turn it off,
saying, “We have nothing to hide from the rest of the
council; why make them suspicious?”

Borth blocked his hand. “They suspect us anyway;
what difference does it make? I would know what you
plan to do about the plague.”

“I am an engineer, Borth,” Korsal replied. “There
is nothing I can do, except vote for stronger quaran
tine measures. If you are asking whether I will vote to
ask the Federation Council for medical aid, yes, of
course I will.”

The Orion shook his head, thinning his lips in
disgust. The flat headdress he wore hooded his yellow eyes. With his green skin, it gave him a reptilian look.
“No, fool. What will you report to the Klingon Empire? Communications records show that you have made no report for sixteen days.”

“Under quarantine conditions, scientific progress is halted. There is nothing to report.” Korsal took a long
swallow of coffee, ignoring the fact that it was too hot.
He wondered, not for the first time, why such a bitter
brew should be so comforting. Taking strength from
that which is harsh, he had long ago learned, was
something Humans and Klingons had in common.

“No?” Borth continued his line of thought. “Consider what a weapon this plague could—”

“Do
not
continue!” Korsal told him, getting up from his chair. Heads turned at the other tables. He
leaned forward, hands on the table, to keep his words
within the privacy shield as he stared into the cold
yellow eyes. “A weapon which can turn as easily upon
its user as upon his enemy is no weapon at all. Try to sell this virus to my people, Borth, and you will have the Klingon Empire as
your
enemy!”

Korsal straightened, crushing his plastic cup, not
even noticing the last of the coffee burning his hand.
He tossed it into a receptacle as he stalked out of the
refectory.

There was no place to go except back to the council
chamber; everything else in the Civic Center, as with all other public buildings, was closed.

The Civic Center containing the council chamber
of the science colony Nisus was situated near the gigantic dam and power plant that provided both
water and electricity to the valley below. The dam was a product of Earth engineering, a technology centuries
old on that water-logged planet, but only a generation
old on three Klingon worlds where famine had been
conquered by such dams in Korsal’s own lifetime.

The Klingon engineer went to stand at the huge window that overlooked the valley. The view of the mountains was blocked by the immense mass of the
dam. Some might say that the solid concrete grayness
was ugly; to Korsal it held the beauty of power. He
watched the tamed river surge through the locks, tumbling downhill in controlled energy. It was divided below into an irrigation system for the fields—designed by Hemanite farmers to prevent erosion—and a water system for the small city where lived
and worked scientists from all races of the Federation
… and a few from outside the Federation as well.

Korsal was uneasy in his position on the Nisus
Council, for he was an engineer, not a politician. Not even a social scientist. Certainly no leader among his
own people, where strategy—whether in battle or in
politics—was the distinguishing feature of those who
ruled.

His position on the Nisus Council came by default;
every culture represented at the science colony chose
a member to sit on the council. And since his col
leagues had returned to the empire seven years before,
Korsal was the only Klingon on Nisus.

No one else had yet returned to the chamber.
Alone, Korsal vented his frustration by pounding his
fist against the window: not glass, but transparent
aluminum, another Earth invention. Not only could
he not break it, but it gave back the feel of solid
metal—the feel of futility.

Korsal was not alone in his frustration. The council
had taken its break only after four hours of delibera
tion. The other members finally began filing back into
the chamber. The largest contingent were Humans,
who had swarmed across the galaxy in the past three centuries, creating colonies so disparate in their gov
ernments and cultures that they could no more be assumed to agree on most issues than Vulcans and
Klingons.