Star Trek_ A Choice of Catastrophes - Michael Schuster [4]
“I’m sure you’ll find it, sir,” Sulu said. Kirk thought that the young helmsman sounded at home in the big chair.
Still, he could do with a little ribbing. “Thanks for your confidence. We’ll contact you again in a few hours. Try not to miss us too much.”
Sulu chuckled. “We’ll do our best, sir. Enterprise out.”
“Mister Spock, are you ready to proceed?” said Kirk.
“Affirmative, Captain. Initial orbital surveys have already revealed that the planetary ruins are relatively intact. I estimate that this planet has been abandoned for a period of one hundred to one hundred and fifty years.”
The first probes of the Mu Arigulon system had shown that this planet had metal alloys and other traces of technological and industrial development—but no active energy signatures or life signs. Whoever had lived there was long gone. “Any clues as to what happened to the inhabitants?”
“I hesitate to indulge in wild speculation, Captain. I need more data before I can begin to formulate a reasonable hypothesis.”
“Of course, Mister Spock. I wouldn’t want to rush the scientific method.”
“Very admirable, Captain. I take it that you will be landing soon?”
“As long you don’t mind being left behind.”
“Sir, we did agree on this at the mission briefing. However, if you would prefer for Columbus to wait while Hofstadter makes the orbital survey, that can be arranged.”
Kirk smiled. His sense of humor was frequently lost on Spock—or so it appeared. The captain had never been able to solve the mystery of whether Spock merely pretended to misunderstand. If he did, were his retorts attempts at wit?
“Never fear, Mister Spock. I won’t disrupt your careful plan.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll land just as soon as you tell me where.”
“Transmitting coordinates now, Captain.”
Kirk looked at Seven Deers, who nodded. “We’ve got them, Spock. See you on the surface when you’re done up here.”
“Yes, Captain. Hofstadter out.”
“Course laid in, Ensign?”
Seven Deers checked her controls. “Aye, Captain. The landing site is outside the largest metropolitan area in the northern hemisphere.”
“Well,” said Kirk, looking around at the crew of the shuttle, “what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
ONE
Stardate 4757.4 (0848 hours)
Two days after leaving C-15, McCoy was still restless. Together with Christine Chapel, the Enterprise’s head nurse, he was organizing the medical supplies that they’d gotten from Phi Kappa. Tedious but necessary work. They’d been at it for a while, and just as the doctor had feared, it was allowing his mind to wander.
Maybe it was time for him to move on. He’d heard that Starfleet was beginning to put together crews for the next generation of ships to succeed the Constitution class. If he managed to finagle himself onto one of their duty rosters, he’d be able to go really far out, blazing new trails in frontier medicine.
The problem was, he’d be disappointing his captain and his friend. Not only would Jim have to search for his third CMO in four years, he would take McCoy’s desertion personally. Either way, McCoy would be miserable, but it was a feeling he was already intimately accustomed to.
He and Chapel were interrupted in their work by the arrival of Lieutenant Kelowitz. He claimed to be a patient, but insisted that he would talk only to McCoy. “That’s never a good sign,” McCoy whispered to Chapel. He took the young man into his office, sitting down behind his desk while Kelowitz stood, his hands flapping around uselessly. Kelowitz was a little shorter than the doctor, and his hair a little lighter. They’d been on a couple of landing parties together, but McCoy knew virtually nothing about him apart from the fact that he was a tactical officer.
McCoy nodded toward the chair, and the other man sat down, though he still didn’t know what to do with his hands, folding and unfolding them repeatedly.
“Now, tell me what’s the matter, son.” Whatever Kelowitz might reveal, it would be hard to embarrass McCoy after twenty years of medical practice, so he