"Bones," James Kirk was insisting in an age-old debate. "The Prime Directive has no bearing on this situation at all. This isn't a growing social order, it's a...petting zoo."
"You're still passing judgement on the way these people live, Jim," the Doctor responded, steel blue eyes bright. "You're holding their lives in comparison to ours: isn't that what the Prime Directive was designed to prevent?
"You can't always use semantics to get around the essence of the law," he continued. "Jim, I know that your intentions are good, but I can't agree it's right to play God."
"Human beings—sentient beings–don't belong in a zoo," the Captain maintained fiercely.
"This isn't a zoo," Chekov interjected quietly. "It's biological environment set up to maintain these people's lifestyle."
Kirk glanced at the young man sharply. "That's called a zoo, Ensign."
The three Enterprise officers stood at the enormous natural spring which was the lifeblood of the community. The miraculous rejuvenating powers of the village springs were a fundamental given to Russians: even after the accident at the Chernobyl power plant poisoned the land, the region's springs had mysteriously remained clean and untainted.
Chekov's backend rested against the short wooden wall built to shelter the sparkling, clear water and divide apart a laundry area. The Navigator reached out a hand and gently brushed it down the back of the brilliant red bird perched on the wall next to him. "Captain," he said again. "These people weren't abducted. They asked Tiimeron to bring them here."
"That was centuries ago. Mr. Chekov," Kirk observed. "These people need to understand that the course of history has changed the situation on Earth. If they want to continue to live the way they're used to, the Historic Districts in the Russian Federation will allow them to do just that.
"There's an important difference, however," the Captain insisted fiercely. "There is no slavery on Earth any longer. The Historic Districts also allow them access to twenty-third century education and medical care. You're from a Historic District yourself, Ensign.
"Tell them that we're prepared to return them to their real Motherland."
Chekov's index finger raised the bird's head up and he stared at her somberly, his chest heavy. The words sat like a rock in his mind. Their Motherland. Their Motherland...
"I have explained these things to them, as you ordered, Sir. They want to stay," he said quietly.
Kirk sighed, hazel eyes intently fixed on the Navigator. "Ensign," he said gently. "Earth is their home."
"It's your home too," Chekov pointed out levelly. "Just as it's the home of many Starfleet personnel and various colonists spread throughout our galaxy. Free people have the right to choose where they want to live."
"They do," the Captain agreed, pacing a few steps away before turning back to him. "In order to exercise choice, you have to know what the options offer, Chekov. I don't think they understand what Earth has to offer them in the twenty-third century."
Chekov stiffened, carefully raising his wide, soulful eyes to meet his Captain's gaze. There was a maturity in their smouldering depths that was far beyond the young man's years. It unnerved Kirk on the rare occasions he'd glimpsed it there. "Captain," the Navigator stated. "It's not about what we can offer them on Earth. It's about what we can't offer them."
Penetrating hazel eyes held the younger man frozen. "Explain," Kirk ordered.
"Captain," Chekov said evenly, the tension in his voice mirrored in the subtle lines that formed around his eyes. "This place wasn't just set up for the benefit of the peasants here."
"No," McCoy agreed broadly. "The sheep and cows needed a place to stay, too."
"Bones," the Captain warned.
The Doctor folded his arms across his chest and he rolled his eyes.
"Sir," the Navigator continued. "From my research here, I have discovered that a race of shape-shifters evolved alongside the humans on Earth. It was these beings that gave inspiration for the oral tradition of fairy tales that have been passed down for generations in Russia. Tiimeron built this place for them and the peasants traveled here afterward: following what we knew in Russia as spirits."
"Ensign," McCoy rasped. "You're saying that an entire race of beings lived with humans on Earth and we never noticed?"
"We noticed: we never had proof," Chekov said patiently. "That's what keeps crypto-zoologists in business."
"Crypto-what?"
"Crypto-zoology," the Navigator repeated. "The scientific investigation of supposedly mythological creatures."
The Doctor dropped his arms to his sides abruptly. "Now you're making that up!"
"No," the Captain interjected. "I've heard of the field, Bones."
"Wait a minute, Jim," McCoy rasped. "You're telling me there are people who make their living looking for mermaids and faeries?"
"Yes," the Navigator insisted. "Just as they once searched for proof of the dinosaur, the Giant Squid, the Giant Panda and the Mountain Gorilla."
"Bones," Kirk interrupted again, touching his friend in a calming gesture. "Am I to understand that you've seen these spirits here, Ensign?" he said to Chekov.
"Several of them, Sir," the young man confirmed and dropped his hand away from the bird perched next to him. The animal's form shimmered and wavered: the willowy woman settling on the top of the wall in its place. Her huge, black eyes regarded the Captain warily.
"Captain James Kirk," the Navigator said formally. "This is Zharpesta: the Firebird," he added in English. "She and the others of her race won't leave this planet. As long as they won't leave, neither will the humans."
The starship captain bowed his head eloquently. "I'm honored, Ma'am. I'm afraid humans have outgrown the need to worship such beings as yourself, however," he said, hazel eyes shining intently. 'We now know you are simply another of this galaxy's varied inhabitants: no better and no less than any other.
"I understand why you may want to stay, that's your choice. There's no reason for the humans to stay here, however."
"Would it have hurt, I wonder, if we'd gathered just a few laurel leaves?" the Navigator asked quietly.
"What?" McCoy demanded irritably.
"Laurel leaves. Would it have hurt, I wonder, if we'd gathered just a few laurel leaves?" Chekov repeated. "That's what the Captain asked after we drove Apollo away."
Kirk straightened, taking in a careful breath. "No matter how we may long for simpler times, Chekov, worship of beings simply because they are different diminishes us as a people."
"Yes, Sir, it does," the younger man agreed. "We never worshiped these people, however, Captain. We lived in harmony with them: both races respecting each other's unique needs. The Earth is as much their home as it is the humans.
"Neither of them will ever leave here to return to Earth," Chekov said, and he heard his voice catch as he forced out the dreaded words. "And neither will I."
Kirk stared at him in stunned silence. Finally, he shook his head. "Pavel, I know how much your homeland's history means to you, but this is preposterous."
"I'm staying," the Navigator repeated as he felt the blood drain from his face, despite fiercely willing it not to do so.
"You'll be AWOL, Ensign," the Captain reminded him gently. "Commissioned officers commit themselves to the service for three years in repayment for an Academy education. You can visit on leave until the time you're free to make that decision."
"No, Sir," Chekov bit out coldly. "I'm staying now."
"Pavel, if I don't send Security to retrieve you," Kirk tried to intone reasonably, "than Starfleet will."
"They will, Sir," the Navigator agreed, "If you report me as AWOL.
"Jim," he continued in uncharacteristic familiarity. Subdued, with dark eyes painfully depthless, he said: "They made me an offer I can't refuse. I'm convinced you'll understand."
Kirk paced several steps closer to the Ensign. "You're young, but you're not naive. What did they offer you, Chekov?"
The young man smiled with innocent warmth. "Captain, the Firebird is going to cure Sulu."
"And in return you're going to stay here?" the Captain deduced immediately.
"I know you understand," the Navigator insisted. "Captain, we may not have all the information, but we know. The officers and crew see what goes on. When Mr. Spock was sick, you brought him to Vulcan against Starfleet orders. He came back well.
"You know there are things more important than any individual."
Kirk straightened slowly. He studied the younger man with opaque hazel eyes. He took another step toward his Navigator, raising his hands in a gesture of empathy.
"I've known others in your position, Chekov," he explained quietly. "You have as much right to the choice as anyone else...only you don't seem happy about it."
Chekov's smile saddened, his dark eyes growing distant. "Captain, my friends and I used to love debating whether we were old enough to stop listening for the chicken bones on Baba Yaga's house and start worrying about meeting Rushlaka.
"Every time we move another creature into the realm of zoology, each step of progress humanity makes, a piece of the Earth's magic is lost forever.
"We killed the Man In The Moon, turned the moon from cheese to rock, chased away the little green Martians.
He shrugged deeply. "I just lost all the Russian spirits. Sir, the sled can be heavy at times."