Star Trek - Log 8 Read Online Free PDF

Kirk urged his companions, "and let's edge around behind this."
    Nothing challenged them, and they reached the head of the path, the point where the pack had emerged, without incident. They kept to the bordering brush for another thousand meters, though, despite the fact that the pack's attention was occupied elsewhere. Like all creatures of limited intelligence, the dog-beasts' span of attention was brief and easily diverted. There was no point in drawing unnecessary attention to their retreat.
    Behind them, the monster reptile snapped and coiled about the harrying pack . . . a colossus assailed by hornets.
    "I begin to understand the difficulties even an experienced survey team might encounter here." Spock breathed evenly as they jogged down the path, now well away from the bloody clearing.
    "I don't see how anyone could survive on the surface of this world for six weeks, cut off from a base ship and outside support," puffed McCoy.
    Kirk observed sharply, "Don't prejudge them, Bones—we're still alive, aren't we?"
    "That's true, Captain," Spock observed, slowing, his gaze focused on something high up and ahead of them. "However, it is arguable if this can be called surviving." He gestured at the cause of his comment.
    "I wonder if hunting is merely bad hereabouts, or if we constitute some sort of edible novelty to the local fauna."
    Through the gap in the trees ahead, Kirk could see three narrow-bodied winged horrors heading straight at them in a long, gliding dive. They shared some of the characteristics of both the pack and the two-headed snake-thing. They had reptilian snouts and scaly wings, but the lithe bodies were coated with fur, and they didn't have the cold eyes of the unblinking reptile.
    "Keep your phasers on stun, but be prepared to shift to a stronger beam if necessary," ordered Kirk—rather tiredly, McCoy thought.
    McCoy was right. Kirk had had about enough of this world's unrelenting attacks. In light of the steady assault, the Federation edicts forbidding the avoidable destruction of alien life were beginning to grate a bit.
    Once more the three officers assumed firing position, once again triple poles of light crossed open air. And the winged dragon-shapes continued their confident dive right toward them.
    "Useless!" yelped McCoy, his fingers moving to adjust the setting on his weapon.
    "Steady, Bones," urged Kirk. "These are just like the dargoneers on Maraville—the stun charge will get to them eventually."
    "Before they get to us?" McCoy murmured, his finger moving back from the setting wheel. He held down the trigger of his phaser, as the flying reptiles continued to come nearer and nearer.
    Then a most peculiar thing happened.
    The dargoneers jerked up in midair, their heads snapping up and back and their wings abruptly beating unsteadily at the air. Ignoring the continued beaming, they seemed to get control of themselves one by one, turned, and flew off in separate directions.
    With nothing left to beam, McCoy clicked off his phaser. Lower jaw hanging open, he stared at the spot in the sky where the seemingly unstoppable aerial meat-eaters had come up short.
    "Now that," he observed bemusedly, "is more than passing strange."
    "An invisible force field, Doctor," Spock observed. "The knife I was talking about before." He turned to look at Kirk. "I think if we attempt to return the way we've come, Captain, we will find similar fields separating the three environments we have thus far encountered. They were absent when we landed but have apparently been restored."
    "Plausible enough, Spock," replied a worried Kirk. "But why shut down such fields in the first place?"
    "I cannot imagine, Captain. To find out, I believe we must locate those who have created the fields in question, as well as transformed this section of the planet into a multitude of adjoining alien environments."
    "That implies—" Kirk began, but something cut off his breath. He had the sensation of being lifted clear off the ground,