Star Trek - Log 8 Read Online Free Page B

supports a few stunted shrubs."
    He took two steps forward. "Suddenly, I am in a region of climactic floral development, standing on soil"—and he kicked at the thick soil—"of self-evident fecundity."
    "I'm not sure I follow you, Spock," the captain commented.
    His first officer gestured all around. "Don't you see it, Captain, Dr. McCoy? It's the abruptness. There is no blending of jungle into desert, desert into jungle, or desert into thermal lowland. The borders between widely divergent ecologies are as sharp as if they had been drawn with a knife."
    "Which means what?" wondered McCoy.
    Spock drew himself up, then spoke slowly. "It is my theory that what we have seen and encountered since we've landed has been carefully manufactured and not naturally evolved. Environmental manipulation on a large scale has taken place here."
    "Terraforming," McCoy muttered. "Or Vulcanforming, or whatever . . . I see. A process which implies the presence of highly intelligent life forms." Suddenly he found himself staring at the green ramparts with nervous expectancy.
    Kirk rubbed at his dry chin. "Reasonable as far as it goes, Mr. Spock. But Terraforming usually follows a consistent pattern." He kicked at the ground, sending yellow sand to stain the dark earth of the forest. "On the strength of your own observations, this hardly seems consistent."
    "It does appear to be almost random choice, Captain. Unless, of course, the randomness is the pattern."
    McCoy sighed resignedly. "Spock, don't you ever say anything straight out?"
    Spock turned a blank stare on him. "I thought I just did, Doctor."
    "Gentlemen, please," Kirk pleaded, "not now. We have work to do."
    A short march parallel to the lush greenery brought them to a path that charged in lazy curves deep into the forest. It might have been worn by the passage of many jungle dwellers . . . or it might have been cut. It was another piece of a puzzle that seemed to be growing more and more complex.
    The jungle itself bore one similarity to the desert region they'd crossed—its familiarity. Like the Canopus III desert analog, this jungle possessed an almost recognizable pattern which Kirk struggled to place in his mental catalog of well-known alien environments. But identification of the forest world in question remained just beyond his thoughts.
    Kirk studied the fibrous exterior of the large tree ferns they were now passing between. Those striking purple-and-puce convolutions were familiar from a well-studied text. To find the environment of one planet reproduced here was startling enough. To find two in such close proximity to each other held profound implications.
    "Spock," he began easily, "what do you think of—"
    A violent warning cough sounded in front of them. It was followed by a hoarse roar. One, two, three forms and more appeared on the open trail ahead. The powerful spotted bodies showed bristling dark fur and deep-set, angry eyes.
    The pack of doglike creatures remained frozen, obviously startled by the appearance of the three figures. They sported huge curved claws more suited to some clumsy digging creature like a sloth, and long thin fangs. Insectoid antennae projected from the thick ridges of thrusting bone above the eyes.
    Those eyes narrowed now, with all the expectancy of an archaeologist coming upon the bust of an emperor instead of yet another pottery shard. Visual evidence of unfriendly intentions seeped from thick-lipped muzzles. The pack began to edge toward the intruders.
    With corresponding caution and patience the three men started retreating.
    "There was a cave in that cliff face we just passed," Kirk whispered. "It didn't look too deep—but it's bound to be better than standing here in the open. If we can make it . . ."
    They picked up their pace slightly, still facing the approaching pack. But, whether through impatience, hunger, or divination of Kirk's intentions, the pack leaders abruptly charged.
    "You two, run for it!" Kirk shouted, pulling his phaser