Captain's log: Stardate 5962.4. We have received a distress call from the planet Avelon. A man named Kedron Valdis claims that he is in need of triphozine, the cure for tuberculosis, as his daughter is gravely ill and the cure has not yet been introduced to Avelon. I have decided to beam down with Dr. McCoy to bring it to him and the rest of the world.
The planet Avelon was cold. Not freezing, but cold enough to be bothersome. Leonard McCoy shivered slightly.
"How is it that I'm always included every time we go somewhere cold?" Jim Kirk looked over at him with an amused smile.
"It's not on purpose, Bones."
"Right," McCoy groused. "At least it's not snowing." They were walking through a field and continued to talk as they made their way to the house they were to meet the man who had sent the distress call.
"I'm glad we could bring the cure for tuberculosis to this world," McCoy said. "It can save not only one life today, but countless others in the future. And to think– just a century ago, we didn't have it on Earth either- just antibiotics." Captain Kirk nodded.
"Yes, and I'm sure you'll develop a great many more cures yourself before your career's over." Despite the cold, the doctor felt warmer inside at the compliment. Once they reached their destination, Kirk knocked on the door. The man who answered was tall, with dark hair, a beard, and green eyes. He looked to be around McCoy's age.
"Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy of the starship Enterprise, I presume?"
"That's right," Kirk confirmed. "And you are Mr. Valdis?"
"Yes. Come in, then," Mr. Valdis offered, stepping aside for the two Starfleet officers. Kirk and McCoy's eyes widened when they noticed just how big the house was inside. It was very roomy, clean, and well decorated.
"This is a very nice home you have," Kirk said.
"Thank you, Captain. Can I offer either of you a drink?"
"No, thank you," Kirk answered when McCoy shook his head.
"Do you always keep it this cold?" The doctor asked, rubbing his arms. It felt like the temperature inside was even a little lower than it was outside.
"Cold? It feels perfectly comfortable to me," Valdis answered, surprised. "In fact, it's a tad warm outside today for my liking. But of course, you are from another world." Kirk was uncomfortable with the cold, but it always bothered McCoy more as someone who had grown up in Georgia. He tried to distract himself from the chill setting in by looking more closely at the décor. The photographs hanging on the nearby wall specifically caught his eye. Pictures of Valdis and a young boy, and a couple included a woman as well– most likely an absent wife. But there were no pictures of a little girl. McCoy's eyes narrowed.
"Where is your daughter, Mr. Valdis?" Kirk beat him to the question.
"Resting– has been for most of the day. I'd rather not wake her yet. Why don't you have a seat?" Kirk and McCoy sat on the couch while Valdis sat in the armchair across from them.
"How long has your daughter had the disease?" McCoy asked.
"Several months now. She just recently took a turn for the worse," Valdis said, lacing his fingers together.
"What symptoms has she been showing?"
Valdis exhaled loudly through his nose. "Coughing up blood, chills, fever, and she's lost weight. I'm worried that she doesn't have much time left."
"Have you given her any antibiotic treatments?"
"Yes, but they seemed to stop working. It's been so difficult not being able to do much to help her feel better."
Kirk crossed his arms. "What about the rest of your family?" Valdis lowered his eyes and said, "Oh, I lost my son a year ago, and my wife left me. It's just me and Ariella now."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Kirk said with a nod. McCoy felt a twinge of sympathy. Although he was suspicious of the man, he understood how it felt to lose a wife and child. His own daughter was alive, but both kinds of losses were painful.
"Mr. Valdis, might I examine Ariella now?" A strange look flashed through the man's eyes.
"Of course. This way," he said as he stood up, and the captain and the doctor followed him to the girl's room. It was oddly plain for a little girl, and there were very few toys, one of them being a stuffed animal she was holding as she slept. Dr. McCoy ran his medical scanner over her, and his brows furrowed at the results.
"This girl isn't sick. And she's unconscious, not asleep..."
"Your scanner must not be working right. Just give me the triphozine," Valdis insisted. Kirk faced him angrily.
"Why did you really bring us here?" McCoy gave the man his best glare.
"She's not really your daughter, is she?" Valdis' hands, which had been clenched at his sides, opened as they shot up, and something like small darts flew out of them, hitting Kirk and McCoy before they could make a move to stop him. They were quickly rendered unconscious, and Valdis stared down at them and said, "You'll find out soon enough."