KIRK ASKED FOR no report at the end of the first day. The Enterprise men were given a trough of water to bathe in. It looked black and slimy, but was surprisingly invigorating, left their skin tingling and clean.
Ensign Michaels seemed quiet and uncertain that evening. Spock also sat off by himself, lost in thought. Kirk had hoped to confer with his first officer, get his opinion on a few things. But he chose, as usual, not to disturb the Vulcan in a contemplative mood.
McCoy asked to speak with him, led him to a corner of the bungalow, and told him of the medical help he had dispensed that day, at the clinic and on the Enterprise.
"Maybe I was out of line, Jim. But I can't say I'm sorry that I did it. I was a healer, faced with five emergencies at once. And you know better than I that this planet doesn't correspond to the pristine, untampered with, developing model."
"Agreed, Bones. Starfleet procedure on how to handle a damaged world like this is a little blurry. And they've authorized me to use my discretion in such matters on this mission. So no, I don't object to your pitching in." He shook his head. "But I do object to your beaming people up to the Enterprise, and more personnel down, without checking with me. No matter what the emergency. It's not just the development of the planet we have to consider. It's the delicacy of our situation."
"Of course, Jim, you're right. But it was just Christine who beamed down, and she's a trooper. And you know, it's a funny thing. We're so worried about the government here spreading propaganda against us. But I think the work I did today was the best possible propaganda for us. I think it made these people see Starfleet in a very different light."
"All right then, Bones. Well-done."
"Oh, and Captain?"
"Yes?"
"If I'm faced with a similar situation tomorrow?"
Kirk smiled, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I guess I can count on you to use your medical judgment."
Both men turned in for the night.
The second day brought investigations farther afield. McCoy, along with the agriculturalist and the education specialist, was flown farther out into the bush. Rizzuto, the historian, was flown on the planet's one "ocean-crossing air ferry" to the landmass on the opposite side of the planet, where an archive and a civic center were being built. The aircraft were obviously of Klingon and Romulan design, and no attempt was made to hide this fact. But questions about the number of air- and seacrafts acquired from the enemies of the Federation received evasive answers. The aircraft were quite primitive, corresponding roughly to solar powered planes from Earth's twenty-second century.
Primitive weapons and machines, manufactured and sold on all sides to these developing worlds; madness, Kirk thought. But the way the game is played. The way the balance of power is maintained.
"Mr. Spock," he asked, when his first officer returned from another session with Mayori, "why, do you think, they've taken for themselves the name of the 'Council of Youngers'?"
"It would seem, Captain, an ironic twist to this planet's traditional reverence for the old and wise. That is one aspect of the culture they seem to be out to change."
Kirk nodded. "A culture they share with Boaco Eight, isn't that so? Sun worshipping, reverence for the old, and the native language on this solar system's other inhabited planet are similar, aren't they?"
"Yes, Captain. Rizzuto would know more about it than I. But the two planets' cultures are similar enough that it is clear that one populated the other in the distant past. This is borne out by the ruins of ancient temples dedicated to the gods of light that have been found in this world in the western sea—"
"Which haven't been properly excavated?"
"No, sir. Not by any government here, past or present. But they are very similar in structure to the vast temple ruins on Boaco Eight; immense in size, complex in structure. They indicate a fascinating, and most sophisticated culture. We don't know on which world it originated. But one Boacan planet must have been capable of space travel, millennia ago, and colonized the other."
"What's your take on Boaco Eight, Spock? The people running it now?"
"They … are not as corrupt or cruel as those who used to rule on this world. But they are hardly democratic or enlightened leaders. The Federation has been on close terms with them, as you know, since the revolution here."
"Sending the Enterprise on a mission to Boaco Six, with no stopover at Boaco Eight, signals somewhat of a shift in Federation policy, wouldn't you say?" Kirk asked.
"More of an experiment, Captain—one Boaco Eight, in all likelihood, is not happy about. They fear the ruling council on this world will try to spread revolution to theirs. And they fear the Federation will abandon them—they, after all, have no argea-producing plants on their world."
Kirk nodded. It seemed clear Starfleet would have to juggle feelings of paranoia on both worlds in order to keep them at peace with each other—and the Federation.
Kirk asked for reports that evening from all his men. The older officers were cautious, restrained in their comments. Advances were definitely being made on this world; changes were generally for the better. People in obscure and distressed areas were receiving education, medicine, and food; the system was practical, if unorganized, and seemed to be working. It could be called a model for underdeveloped planets. Of course, it was impossible to say if what had been seen in two days represented the situation on the whole planet. But the contrast to, say, five years earlier seemed staggering.
"Do you know how many babies used to die here?" McCoy was almost accusatory in his tone. "How many healthy adults were cut down by simple curable diseases? At last, the doctors here are fighting back. Granted, they're understaffed, lacking supplies. I'm not saying the battle is won. But the strides they're making in health education … it's remarkable, what they seem to have accomplished."
"It is remarkable, sir, it's a world in transition!" Michaels's eyes were bright with enthusiasm. Restraint was not of interest to him. "The people are still going through some hard times, but they have faith in the council. They shudder when Markor, and Puil, and the other old rulers are mentioned. We should ally ourselves with this planet, the new regime, help it along!"
Kirk tried to suppress a smile. But he didn't try too hard. "I thought you distrusted the rebel council, Mr. Michaels."
"But, sir, they're protecting the culture, they're popular …"
"The intergalactic situation, Ensign. I thought that was of primary importance to you."
"But it's a good planet, Captain. It's right. You can feel it."
"Very well, Ensign. Mr. Spock, how 'right' would you say the judicial system here is?"
"Judging from what I've seen, Captain, they're heading in a productive direction. Tolerant of criticism, up to the point of insurrection. Merciful penal camps with an emphasis on the rehabilitation of prisoners. The ones that I saw … impressed me a great deal. They contrasted sharply with the torture chambers of Puil. There is respect for private property here, and for freedom of travel.
"But justice seems conducted in a rather haphazard fashion, here. It is difficult to find anything written down, any codified laws. What I have seen may, in fact, be atypical. In fact, what all of us have seen may be the equivalent of what they used to call a cardboard town, a Potemkin village."
"Exactly, Mr. Spock. So the issue now is, do we recommend that the Federation send a real investigatory team here to do months of in-depth research? And obviously, that depends on whether we think it's to the Federation's advantage to have good relations with Boaco Six. And that, gentlemen, does depend greatly on the intergalactic situation. Comments?"
Rizzuto, the historian, spoke. "Captain, I've found a lot that I admire on this world. Obviously, on a planet that's been interfered with so much by all sides, for centuries, the Prime Directive becomes a moot point. But the present government is making an effort to keep the planet evolving independently, with its own culture. And yet, we know they're being influenced. And it's the same for all of us—they're incredibly open and friendly, but when we start asking questions about Klingon and Romulan aid, they clam up."
"Even the townspeople don't want to talk about that," Michaels admitted, reluctantly.
Kirk shifted on his cot. The bungalow had seemed the most private place for a meeting. "And yet we know that the aid has been substantial. Boaco Six wants to claim neutrality and make deals on all sides. For such a planet, in this quadrant, that's virtually impossible. Well? Are they playing coy with us? Are they Klingon dupes?"
There was a silence.
"Impossible to say, Captain, at this time," Spock said finally.
Kirk waved his hand in a vague gesture of impatience. "All right, then. Tomorrow, one last day of investigations, and in the evening, I'll arrange a meeting with the Council of Youngers. Then we'll get down to business."