Mission to Horatius (Star Trek: The Original Series) - Hardcover

Reynolds, Mack

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 067102812X ISBN 13: 9780671028121

Publisher: Atria, 1999

Synopsis

A facsimile edition of the first "Star Trek" novel, out of print for thirty years, follows Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise to a primitive planet, populated by human inhabitants and clones with no civil rights, that is threatened by raids fromhigh-tech neighbors

About this title

Review:

Mission to Horatius, the very first Star Trek novel, is only mediocre as a story, but its nostalgia potential is vast. In the introduction, editor John Ordover dedicates this authentic facsimile hardcover edition, complete with cheesily wonderful original illustrations, to "every Star Trek fan who was ever 8 years old." If that's you, switch off your late-century cynicism and return to 1968, when the starship Enterprise's weekly voyages were pushing the frontiers of mainstream America firmly into science fiction territory.

The Enterprise has been on patrol too long--the crew is restless and irritable (especially that cranky old charmer Dr. McCoy), the engines are straining, and food is running low. But Captain Kirk is under sealed orders to head to the far away Horatius system to answer a mysterious distress call from some decidedly anti-Federation colonists. When our intrepid crew tries to help, they run afoul of stone-age creeps, drugged fanatics, and oppressed clones. To make matters worse, they (you guessed it) face a moral conflict with Federation General Order One, the so-called Prime Directive, which mandates noninterference with native cultures. With the reissue of charming oldies like Mission to Horatius, classic Trek will live long and prosper. --Therese Littleton

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

Chapter One: Secret Mission

Dr. Leonard McCoy, senior ship's surgeon of the U.S.S. Enterprise, stormed from the turbo-lift elevator which opened onto the starship's bridge and glared about. The scene, however, couldn't have been more normal.

Captain Kirk sat musing in his command chair, facing the large bridge viewing screen. Directly in front of him, also facing the screen, sat the navigator, Ensign Chekov, and Helmsman Sulu. In the outer circular elevation behind them, various crewmen and ship's officers stood or sat before their control panels. Immediately to the doctor's right was Communications Officer Uhura, her trim eyebrows a bit high at his precipitate entry. Immediately across from the elevator and behind the captain, Commander Spock, the ship's science officer, sat at his library computer station, also looking mildly surprised at the doctor's obviously upset condition. Mr. Spock, with his long face, his pointed ears, his satanic eyes, never allowed himself to show more than mild surprise; it would have been beneath his dignity as a supposedly emotionless native of the planet Vulcan.

Captain James T. Kirk looked up as the ship's doctor marched toward him. "Yes, Bones?" he said. "Something bothering you?"

Although he had had wide experience in the Starfleet Service, James Kirk was a young man in his early thirties. An Academy graduate, he held the rank of starship captain, the youngest man in the fleet to do so. He prided himself on the fact that he had won his command solely through his own efforts. He was a handsome specimen, with a wide, generous mouth but with the seriousness that the responsibility of his rank demanded. Even his closest intimates, such as Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, and the other senior officers of the Enterprise, seldom jested with their captain.

Dr. McCoy stood before him now and put his fists on his hips as though in belligerence. "Look here, Jim," he said, "I demand to know where we're going."

The attention of everyone on the command bridge was on him, but he ignored them all as he glowered into Captain Kirk's face.

Kirk looked at him strangely. "Why, Bones?"

"Why! I'll tell you why! This ship has no business being in space! That's why!"

Mr. Spock replied, "To the contrary, Dr. McCoy. The Enterprise was built in space and is much too large ever to land."

Dr. McCoy turned his glare in that direction. "You know what I mean, Spock. We should not be on a mission at this time. We should be in orbit around some Starfleet Command Center for a period of rest and reconditioning of the ship. More than half the crew are due for extended leaves. The chief steward tells me that the commissary is shockingly low on supplies. Scotty tells me that his section is in need of various repairs. I want to know where we're going and how much longer we expect to be in deep space!"

Captain Kirk shifted in his chair and allowed himself a slight frown. Dr. McCoy was possibly his closest friend and the only man on board who called the captain by his first name. He said, "I repeat, Bones -- why? What is this sudden interest on your part in the performance of this ship's duties -- that is, beyond the workings of the medical department?"

The other snapped, "My interests do not extend beyond the medical department, Jim. That's what I'm talking about."

The captain thought about that. He said, "I see what you mean, Bones. Space strain? The confinement syndrome?"

"Worse than that. Head Nurse Chapel has detected the first symptoms of cafard in Yeoman Thomkins."

Captain James Kirk winced.

Helmsman Sulu looked over his shoulder, his alert face dismayed. "Cafard?" he blurted.

"That will be all, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said. He looked over at his science officer. "Mr. Spock, comments?"

Spock said, "Space cafard. Compounded of claustrophobia, ennui -- boredom, if you will -- and the instinctive dread of a species, born on a planet surface, of living outside its native environment. The instinctive fear of deep space. Formerly the fear of being in free fall, though that seldom applies any longer. A mania that evidently is highly contagious. It is said that in the early days of space travel, cafard could sweep through a ship in a matter of hours, until all on board were raging maniacs, and -- "

Captain Kirk said dryly, "I did not require a complete rehashing of the illness, Mr. Spock."

The science officer finished, however. "It does not, of course, apply to Vulcans. Only to the less adjusted and less well balanced humanoid species."

McCoy snorted. "Unhappily, Spock, you're the only Vulcan aboard the Enterprise. The rest of us are subject to cafard."

"All right, all right," Kirk said. He looked at Spock again. "The most recent case known?"

"Only last year -- on the Space Scout Westmoreland. It was found drifting, the whole crew dead. The investigation determined space cafard."

"Dead! Of what?"

"They had killed each other, Captain. Evidently in their madness."

Lieutenant Uhura couldn't refrain from asking, "Killed each other? How?"

Spock looked at the pretty young lieutenant, his face characteristically empty of emotion. "They tore each other apart with their bare hands, Lieutenant."

Uhura closed her eyes in pain and shuddered.

Kirk said in irritation, "The Westmoreland, if I recall, Mr. Spock, was a four-manner without artificial gravity and consequently subject to free fall. The Enterprise is a starship with a crew of four hundred and thirty persons, a gravitational support system so that Earthside conditions are duplicated, ample recreational facilities, and a completely equipped and staffed ship's sick bay. Do you know of any starship class spacecraft that has ever succumbed to cafard?"

Spock said, "No, Captain."

Captain Kirk looked at his ship's doctor. "Well, Bones -- comments?"

Dr. McCoy said testily, "There can always be a first. This ship has been on continual patrol for a year -- long past the normal period to be spent in deep space. Our supplies are shockingly low."

"We took on supplies at Space Station K-Eight."

"As you well know, Jim, a space station is not a star base. It lacks the facilities. We took on emergency supplies of fuel and basic food. We did not take on new recreational equipment. We did not have shore leave. The officers and crew were not allowed to journey to their home worlds to visit families, wives, husbands, or sweethearts. It was no more than an emergency stop. Our people need fresh air; they need to participate in sports impossible in the confines of the Enterprise. They need to look at mountains, lakes, rivers, and oceans, walk city streets, go to shows, restaurants, have a good time. They're normal, flesh-and-blood people, Jim. They can't spend their whole lives in the confines of a starship. They go stale. Finally they get sick. I'm warning you, Jim. Cafard is the farthest thing from a joke in the medical book."

Captain Kirk's face worked. "I obey orders, Bones. Like any other ship's captain in the Starfleet."

"They're the wrong orders, then!"

"I didn't issue them."

Dr. McCoy demanded, "I still want to know where we're going. How much longer do you expect to be in deep space?"

Kirk said, looking at him evenly, "I don't know."

Even Spock blinked at that.

Captain Kirk looked around the bridge. "All right, now hear this. All of you. I am under verbal orders only. We were scheduled, as you know, to return to Star Base Twelve for the protracted shore leaves, replenishing of ship's supplies, and the repairs that Bones has pointed out have become necessary during the past cruise. While en route we were redirected to Space Station K-Eight to take on emergency supplies. There it was revealed to me that a subspace distress call had been received by Starfleet Command."

McCoy snorted, "But why us

About this edition

• Publisher: Atria
• Publication date: 1999
• ISBN 10: 067102812X
• ISBN 13: 9780671028121
• Binding: Hardcover
• Number of pages: 210