FLASHBACK: October 1984. I’d just gone on a whale-watching cruise off the Massachusetts coast with my friend T. J. Burnside. We visited humpbacks and dolphins in the wild, and discussed late rumors about Star Trek: despite the success of Star Trek III, it seemed there might not be a Star Trek IV. Dismaying, to say the least.
Next day, I got a call from a science fiction acquaintance, asking if I could come in and meet with Leonard Nimoy that afternoon. If S. T. IV got made, he would be directing it, and he was preparing by holding a series of brainstorming sessions with various writers and scientists around the country, stirring up new ideas for the next film. So, could I come in and chat? You bet!
It was fun meeting Leonard for the first time, and a challenge to come up with suggestions that might be useful. I got over being nervous in a few minutes. He wasn’t at all nervous about meeting me. Following that session, I thought I might have a chance to submit a story outline for the movie, so I quickly wrote one based on some of the notions we’d discussed.
As it turned out, Leonard and Harve Bennett had already decided on a basic story involving time travel, so I set mine aside. But it didn’t go to waste—it evolved into this book.
If you saw Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, you might’ve spied my name near the end of the credits, under “The Producers extend special thanks to—” So I guess I helped ’em a little. And I loved the movie—my compliments to all the chefs responsible for S. T. IV.
Partly because they originated in the same pot of ideas, Deep Domain and S.T. IV share some common ground, though the different approaches will become obvious as you read this novel. But both focus to some extent on marine life (though that’s not a whale on the cover; it’s an Akkallan triteera, recognizable by its triple-fluked tail). Both touch on themes of co-existence with other species and ecological responsibility. And they attempt to do what science fiction does so well—make us take probing looks at our own world. It’s the only one we’ve got and we’re not taking very good care of it.
Hardly a week passes without horrific headlines about chemical spills polluting water and air, man-made noxious potions punching holes in the atmospheric ozone that protects us from cancer-causing rays of the sun, acid rain reducing forests to lifeless sticks of wood and killing streams that once teamed with fish….
You don’t have to be an environmental crazy to get the point: If we turn our beautiful planet into a sludge-encrusted cesspool with brown air and crunchy water, we ain’t got no place else to go. If you’re sitting there thinking, But I never dump toxic wastes into the ocean, so why’s he busting my chops? I’ll tell you why.
Not doing rotten things just isn’t good enough anymore. As we used to say, before “social activism” became dirty words, “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”
Yes, I realize we can’t all go out in small boats and stop illegal whaling by interposing our bodies between explosive harpoons and the whales at which they’re aimed. Or go out and intercept barrels of radioactive garbage before they sink to the bottom of the sea. Or physically wrest deadly weapons from the fingers of poachers intent on butchering endangered rhinos for their horns and elephants for their tusks.
But if it outrages you to know that gentle mountain gorillas (perhaps a few hundred remain in the wild) are murdered and their hands cut off to be made into ash trays for tourists, there’s something you can do. Simple but vital.
First, you can help other people understand the importance of these issues. And, for a very few bucks, you can contribute to one of the fine organizations dedicated to protecting Planet Earth and its many life forms (including we humans, who often seem too dumb to protect ourselves from ourselves). Three that I personally recommend: Greenpeace, the Cousteau Society, and the World Wildlife Fund. All are reputable and devoted to preserving our world. If you can’t locate an address (check your school or public library), then write to me c/o Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, NY, NY 10020. Send a stamped, self-addressed envelope and I’ll send the info you’ll need to contact them.
Whatever you do, please don’t leave it to the other guy. We all have it in our power to make the world a little better, or at least keep it from getting worse. We won’t always succeed—but unless we try, we can’t possibly succeed.
Before I forget, special thanks to Julia Ecklar (for Russian advice), Bob and Debbie Greenberger, Ann Crispin, Debby Marshall, Mom and Dad, George Takei, Walter Koenig, Eddie Egan, Dave McDonnell, Cindi Casby, Tom Roberts, Sharon Jarvis, Liz Hartman, Dave Stern—and, of course, Mail Order Annie.
Howard Weinstein
Historian’s Note: Those who have avidly followed the exploits of the U.S.S. Enterprise and her crew should note that this mission takes place in the years following the events related in printed and audio-visual reports of the Enterprise’s encounter with V’ger, circa Stardate 7412.