Captain's log, stardate 7520.7:
Lieutenant Uhura reports a hail from U.S.S. Hood, due to arrive in Centaurian standard orbit at stardate 7521.5. The Hood will assume our central role in New Athens relief operations, freeing us at last to go to Starbase Seven for ship's repairs.
The dissipation of the tachyonic interference blanket around Centaurus is accelerating, now that nearly two weeks have passed since the New Athens disaster. Today is the first day subspace communications frequencies in this sector have been clear enough to reach Starfleet easily, so I have had Uhura package all recent log entries and transmit them to Starfleet Command. Those logs include commendations for ship's officers Spock, Sulu, Chekov, Scott, MacPherson, and Flores. I am also proud to note that this ship and its crew have earned a "Well done" from Admiral Buchinsky.
It had been seven days since Kirk's return to the Enterprise, a week of refit, repair and redoubled efforts to bring additional aid to the population of New Athens.
Once Starbase 7 had passed the word that the Centaurian defense system had been deactivated, all manner of aid had been dispatched from virtually every important member of the Federation. Earth's nations mourned the destruction of the hospital ships Dooley, Cavell and Sakharov—but had quickly sent the Tutu, Barnard and Semmelweiss to replace them. They, and more than twenty other ships, were now in orbit around Centaurus, and the thousands of doctors and nurses aboard them—as well as desperately needed medical equipment and supplies—were now at work treating the injured. And more such ships were on the way. It was becoming a crowded sky again.
Saul Weinstein was still handling things at Founders Park, but now with all the help he had always needed. With the authority of his Starfleet command rank, Kirk had declared martial law in the New Athens area and installed Weinstein as the area's surgeon general. He had also appointed Thaddeus Hayes—the chief of protocol who'd greeted him and Sulu in McIverton—as administrative head of the martial law district; that saved Kirk from doing the job himself. The captain figured that anyone who had started out as a labor mediator could handle the minor chore of running a disaster zone. Kirk had been right; Hayes was performing splendidly in the job. Wouldn't be surprised if that man has a future in planetary politics, Kirk thought.
Kirk also hadn't minded the thumb-in-the-eye that his declaration of martial law had given to the government of President Erikkson. Kirk had as much as said the government was incompetent to handle the emergency. It was true enough, though. According to Spock's report, no evidence that the government had ever dispatched a repair mission to the Defense Center had been found, and there had been no effective government presence at Founders Park—except for the presence of some local cops who had shown up anyway. Kirk wondered what Erikkson had been waiting for. The captain assumed that there would be some changes made in the next elections; Kirk might even send in his landowner's absentee ballot, for once.
Kirk had been briefly tempted to accompany Columbus down to McIverton to collect Galileo from Government Field—but he assumed that Sulu and Chekov would enjoy the trip even more without him … especially with six Security men at their side, each toting a number-two phaser and hoping for trouble. However, the pickup had been made without incident.
Bones and Joanna McCoy were still working in Founders Park, although they spent their nights aboard the Enterprise, now that there were doctors and nurses aplenty to cover for them and the transporters were working again. Dr. M'Benga was serving as the Enterprise's chief medical officer pro tem; Kirk was carrying Bones on his lists as temporarily detached from duty.
Kirk smiled as he recalled again that last landing of the Columbus, and how he'd emerged from his cabin to see Joanna McCoy stepping from the shuttle gangway, the first out. Bones had followed her out, medikit in hand; Kirk had gestured with a thumb toward the cabin and said, "Stab wound, Bones; he's on the floor. The other one's got phaser stun." McCoy had nodded quickly, mumbling a greeting to Kirk as he flashed by.
But Kirk hadn't noticed. He was looking at the living Joanna McCoy. No one had yet told him she was alive and safe; no one had had the chance. After standing still for a moment, Kirk had grinned sheepishly; he could not find the words of greeting and relief and joy he wanted.
But words hadn't been necessary. Joanna squealed, "Uncle Jim!!!" and ran to him and hugged him until he thought his spine would crack.
Kirk hadn't minded that a bit.
Scotty and MacPherson, working as closely together as always, had completed repairs to the ship's badly abused internal communications systems and patched the impulse control centers enough to permit a safe trip to Starbase 7, where drydock personnel would shortly be swarming all over and through Kirk's ship. Spock was estimating a repair time of six weeks, five for the work itself and an extra week "to allow for human inefficiency." That was one of the things Kirk liked about Spock: With him, you always knew exactly where you stood.
Two days before, a Federation scout ship—U.S.S. Conrad—had pulled alongside. Her captain had taken formal custody of the five suspects in the New Athens bombing for transport to Earth. Kirk had sent along a sworn statement outlining Barclay's recitation of the "hypothetical" circumstances of the blast.
Sam Cogley had gone with them. Kirk had talked with the lawyer just before departure.
"Are you going to see this thing through to the end, Sam?" Kirk had asked. "Seems to be just your kind of case."
Cogley had stared into his coffee cup. "No, Jim, I'm dropping the case once my clients secure legal representation on Earth," he'd said. "I wouldn't mind defending the other three, but I can't do that without prejudicing the case against the first two. So I'm bowing out … but I'll suggest a few names to my clients."
"Why are you pulling out?" Kirk had asked.
Cogley'd nodded slowly. "A fair question. I owe you an answer, and I'll give it to you—as long as it never leaves this room."
"Understood."
"I'm an old lawyer, Jim. I've seen it all. You do what I do for a living, and you get an instinct for what the truth is in a case. I felt all along that Barclay was lying to me about his role in the conspiracy. My gut told me he and Holtzman's son, at least, had known about the plan to bomb New Athens all along."
"He must have," Kirk had said. "Once tachyonic interference from below cleared up enough, we sensor-scanned the surface of Centaurus for antimatter and easily found the three annihilation weapons Barclay boasted about back in the cabin. Security disarmed them, and I gave them to the Conrad's captain for evidence. I wonder why Barclay showed his hand like that?"
Cogley had taken a sip of his cooling coffee. "Because he's fundamentally stupid, Jim. He couldn't resist boasting about his 'power,' and he must have figured, somehow, that a starship couldn't detect the presence of antimatter from orbit. Ridiculous! But a smart man—even a not-so-smart one—would never swallow the League's political program. It's just warmed-over national socialism, with an unhealthy chunk of racial hatred thrown in for flavoring."
"Delusions of grandeur?" Kirk had asked. "Sounds likely, anyway. Barclay figured he was so damn good that no one could stop him. He must have figured he'd get off Centaurus, courtesy of the Federation, and then stop the Federation from taking action against him by threatening to use his three remaining bombs."
Cogley had nodded. "The secret of cheap antimatter production was lost with Isidore Holtzman. His son doesn't know how to do it; Barclay certainly doesn't, and Holtzman didn't work with assistants. Of course, given the hint, some bright boy will figure it out all over again, and there might be another problem someday. But at least Barclay's run is at an end."
Kirk had nodded, agreeing. "But how did you know he was guilty, Sam?"
Cogley had paused. "I always trust my gut, Jim. It's like when, a couple of years ago, I took on the job of defending a starship captain in a case involving airtight, indisputable evidence that he was guilty of gross negligence and perjury, and maybe murder, in the death of a fellow officer. Open and shut—but my gut told me then that you were innocent, Jim, despite how things looked for you … just as my gut's now telling me that Barclay and Holtzman are guilty as hell of conspiracy. They may be guilty of far more than that. But guilty or innocent, Jim, those two deserve the best defense they can get; that's the way it works. And I can't deliver that; I've seen New Athens. They'll have to hire somebody who hasn't."
"What will you do next?" Kirk had asked.
Cogley had come up with the ghost of a grin. "After the Conrad drops my soon-to-be-former clients on Earth and their representation is set, I'm coming back here. The Federation's decided to charge Nathaniel Burke and Daniel Perez with gross obstruction of justice. Seems they used their government posts to try to keep a starship captain from securing custody of five suspects wanted by the Federation."
Kirk had stared at Cogley, and then burst out laughing.
Cogley had smiled. "It'd be a conflict for me if it ever got to trial, Jim, because I was so involved—but it'll never get that far. I've already put out feelers, and the Federation prosecutor will be satisfied if the two of them simply resign their offices and drop out of government for keeps."
"Somehow, I don't mind that much," Kirk had admitted. "Burke and Perez lost their families in New Athens. That affects a man."
"It surely does," Cogley had said, finishing his coffee. . . .
"Call from Mr. Spock," Uhura called out from the communications station, interrupting Kirk's reverie.
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Kirk thumbed the ACCEPT pad on the arm of his chair. "Yes, Mr. Spock?"
"Captain, I am down in the computer room. I have something you may be interested in. Are you able to come down here? You will not need a 'clean suit'; I have sealed all working computer banks."
"Certainly. Be right down. Kirk out." The captain rose. "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. I'll be down in the brain room."
"Aye, aye, Captain."
The turbolift doors squeaked open for Kirk, and he stepped inside. "Computer room," he said, and the idiot circuits Spock and Scott had installed to substitute for the computers' much more complicated vocal-response processors shut the doors and sent the 'lift on its way. God, it's nice to have things working again, Kirk told himself.
The 'lift doors opened, and Kirk saw that the entrance to the computer room, usually sealed shut, was wide open. "Spock?" he called.
"In here, Captain," the Vulcan said.
Kirk entered. Things were all right. As Spock had said, the intact banks of the computer room had been sealed behind shields of acrylic to preserve the utter cleanliness they required; the rest of the banks had been ruined and, for them, cleanliness no longer mattered. Spock had spent a morning completing the shielding so that he could enter the computer room without having to go through the lengthy personal cleansing process each time. Logical, thought Kirk.
"Greetings, Captain," Spock said politely. "I believe I have an answer to the question of why most of our computer banks were destroyed."
"Oh. From your tone, I take it that it wasn't an act of sabotage, after all?"
"Not that, nor was it the fault of anyone's carelessness. We were the victims of a freak accident—but it may turn out to be a fortuitous one."
"An 'accident.' What do you mean, Spock?"
"Quite simply, Captain, we went through a black hole—or we could say quite as easily that a black hole went through us. It left its mark behind it: the perfectly circular and regular holes drilled through the dead computer banks. Look here." Spock walked to bank 15, counting from the left; he touched it with an inertial screwdriver, and it rolled out from the wall.
"Observe, Captain," Spock said, pointing at the hole in the bank. "Bank fourteen, the one to the left of this, is intact. You see that the hole in bank fifteen does not quite penetrate it entirely. Now bank sixteen"—Spock withdrew it from its bulkhead—"was completely penetrated. This is also true of banks seventeen through two twenty-four. I found that bank two twenty-five was intact, so I withdrew number two twenty-four entirely from the bulkhead and found the other end of the hole, perhaps a centimeter deep inside."
"So a black hole did it? How do you know?"
"I inferred that from the tricorder readings I took soon after the computer banks were rendered non-operational," Spock said. "However, I did not credit my initial assumption, because not all facts fit. Simply put, a black hole should not do what this one did."
"What did this one do, Spock?"
"Look at this, Captain." Spock handed Kirk a computer printout. It read:
TIME 0.0000000087 SEC
DISTANCE 20.8655928 METERS
RADIUS 6.5800255222685 X 10-22 CM
MASS 4431.0476216943 KG (STD)
TEMP 4.4310476216943 X 1032 K
"That is really all there is to it, Captain," Spock said. "The Hawking equations concerning black holes apply here. We have known since the twentieth century that small black holes—those massing less than planetary size—are not eternal. Very small ones die very quickly. However, until now, no black hole is known to have come into spontaneous existence since the Big Bang. Such have been theorized, but none has ever been found.
"At the time the hole damaged our computers, the Enterprise was making warp two. At that speed the ship travels nearly twenty-one meters in just under nine billionths of a second. The hole was not moving; rather, we traveled through where the hole was, and that is what did the damage. The length of the track the hole left in our computer banks is the amount of distance the ship traveled in the time the hole existed. Further, allowing for massive tidal and thermal forces, and the fractive quotient of the material used in casting the banks, the diameter of the hole's track is consistent with the diameter of the black hole, as conjectured."
"But wait a minute, Spock," Kirk said. "If I'm reading this printout right, you say the black hole massed nearly four and a half tons."
"Correct, Captain."
"That means we were hit by the equivalent of a good-sized boulder traveling at eight times the speed of light. Why aren't we dead?"
"I do not know yet," Spock said. "Theoretically, the energy released by such a collision should have utterly destroyed the Enterprise. That it did not is both fortunate and mysterious. It may be that we are talking about two different kinds of qualities of mass, one of which may only partially affect the other. The situation challenges everything I know of physics, Captain, and I have been studying it for most of this past week with only limited success."
"You'll get another academic paper out of it, anyway," said Kirk.
"Several, undoubtedly," Spock said. "However, I wish I had more data with which to write them. But at least there is this: We have a unique artifact here before us, Captain—a complete, unbroken life history of a black hole, from beginning to end. A close inspection of the track of the black hole may some day yield discoveries that have eluded us for some time."
Kirk rubbed his chin. "Keep after it, Spock. We'll have five—or six—weeks at Starbase Seven; you have that much leave time coming to you, at least. Use it to the fullest."
"Thank you, Captain. I appreciate it."
"Uh, one more thing. I'd been hoping you might find the time to go with me to Centaurus for a stay in Garrovick Valley. The ship will be in the hands of the repair crews for some weeks, and we've all got some R and R coming, but I don't suppose…?"
"On the contrary, Captain. I would be pleased to join you. I found the valley pleasant and restful in the brief time I was there with Columbus for your pickup. The valley agreed with my sense of the aesthetic."
"Oh. Well, fine, Spock! Come by when you care to, stay as long as you want. There's no schedule and no calendar at my place."
"I think I might like it by the riverbank, Captain," Spock said musingly. "It looked quite peaceful there." The Vulcan paused. "Captain, may I be permitted a question?"
"Of course, Spock."
"Why have you never told me of the valley? Its purchase seems quite an achievement."
Kirk thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "I don't know, Spock. I never talk about my place. The only person aboard the ship who knew about it was Dr. McCoy, and that only because he was with me when I found it, many years ago. I suppose I may be jealously guarding my privacy somehow."
"I understand 'private matters,' Captain," Spock said. "And I understand that a starship captain has many demands on him. A Vulcan has deep and unshakable notions of privacy." He paused. "I was—disturbed—that you perhaps thought I would not recognize the valley's importance to you, or that I would not respect any confidence concerning it."
"No. Never that."
"I am relieved. Later, then, Captain?"
"Of course." Kirk turned to leave.
"Go well, Jim," Spock said to his back.
Captain's log, stardate 7521.6:
The U.S.S. Hood has arrived, and her captain has relieved this ship of duty at this station. Starfleet has cut our orders for drydock work at Starbase Seven, and Mr. Scott assures me the ship is ready to go.
Iziharry, Constance, a nurse in the medical section and a native of Centaurus, has reconfirmed her desire to stay home and assist in rescue and reclamation efforts. I have accepted her resignation from the service with regret. Three other personnel—McHenry, Thomas; Garibaldi, Mona; and Siderakis, Peter—have submitted separation requests for the same reason, and I have approved these as well. Iziharry will continue working with Dr. Weinstein; the other three will take jobs in the Reclamation and Reconstruction Agency being set up by Thad Hayes. Each of the three will be a worthy addition to the RRA.
Dr. McCoy will remain behind as well, but only temporarily. He will rejoin the Enterprise at Starbase Seven when our repairs have been completed. In the meantime he will work with his daughter, Joanna, under Dr. Weinstein. I have offered Joanna McCoy an appointment to the Medical School Division of Starfleet Academy, and she is considering acceptance. Her father heartily approves of the notion. So, for that matter, do I; Joanna McCoy would make a splendid addition to Starfleet's medical roster.
And so, at last, it was all as it should be, with Mr. Spock at his science station and Captain Kirk in the command chair, seated behind Sulu and Chekov manning the positions at the helm. "Mr. Chekov, lay in a course for Starbase Seven," Kirk ordered.
"Computed and laid in, sir," Chekov responded smartly.
Kirk was feeling that familiar thrill again—the one he felt every time he was about to say this: "Helmsman, take us out."
"Aye, aye, sir," Sulu answered.
The hum of the impulse engines rose high as the Enterprise set out once more to soar among the stars that lined her never-ending road.