them.
Show us the three
Class-M planets.
The one on the left,
number 3,
rates letter "B"
on the industrial scale.
Earth equivalent
approximately ...
1485.
Yes, sir.
Second planet Class-M,
number 4,
rates letter "G."
Year 2030.
But that ship, Captain,
either it was
many years ahead of us
or the most incredible
design fluke in history.
Third Class-M planet,
Mr. Chekov.
Number 6.
No sign of
industrial development.
At last report,
in a Glacial Age.
Sapient life plentiful,
but on a most
primitive level.
As I understand it,
- there are three Class-M planets,
- Yes, sir.
none of which is capable of
launching an interstellar flight,
- No, sir.
- yet one of them accomplished it.
- Yes, sir.
- Thank you, Mr. Chekov.
Captain, I'm picking up
high energy generation
on planet 6.
That's the primitive
glaciated planet.
The source of it?
It could be natural --
volcanic activity, steam,
any number of causes --
but it's very regular.
What do your surface readings show?
No sign of
organized civilization.
Primitive humanoids picked up
at irregular intervals.
With regular pulsations
of generated energy?
I can't explain it, sir.
I can't afford
to guess wrong.
I've got to choose the right planet
to get there,
find the brain.
8 hours
and 35 minutes.
Recommendations,
Mr. Chekov.
Sigma Draconis 3.
It's closest.
Heaviest population.
But a technological
rating of only 3.
They couldn't put
that ship we saw into space.
None of these planets
could.
I say planet 4, Captain.
At least planet 4 is ahead of 3,
technologically.
But advanced ion propulsion
is beyond
even our capabilities.
It'd be a miracle
if they developed it.
What would they want
with his brain?
What would they want
with Mr. Spock's brain?
Why do they want it?
Yes. Why would they
want it?
8 hours and 34 minutes.
Planet 6 is glaciated,
you say?
Several thousand years,
at least.
Only the Tropical Zone
is ice-free.
But the energy.
Regular.
It's there.
It's real.
Yes, sir.
It doesn't make sense,
but it's there.
Have the transporter room
stand by.
I'm taking a landing party
down to planet 6.
Aye, aye, sir.
A hunch, Captain?
A hunch, Mr. Sulu.
What if you guess wrong,
Captain?
If I guess wrong,
Mr. Spock is dead.
Spock will die.
Captain 's Log,
Star date 4351.5.
We are beaming down to a
primitive glaciated planet
in the Sigma Draconis
star system.
Time left to us
to find Spock's brain --
8 hours and 29 minutes.
Suit temperatures to 72.
Life-form readings,
Mr. Spock --
Mr. Scott?
Scattered.
Widely spaced.
Humanoid, all right.
On the large side.
Watch out. We know
their development is primitive.
Aye.
Readout, Mr. Chekov.
No structures, Captain.
No mechanized objects
that I can read.
No surface consumption,
no generation of energy.
Atmosphere is perfectly
all right, of course.
Temperature,
a high maximum of 40.
Livable.
You have a thick skin.
Captain!
There's someone,
something out there in the rocks.
Five of them.
Humanoid, large.
Phasers on stun.
I want them conscious.
Fire only on my signal.
Flank out.
Chekov.
- Grrr!
- Aah!
We mean you no harm.
We're not your enemies.
We're your friends.
We only wish
to talk to you.
You ...
are not the Others?
No.
We come from
a far place.
We are men.
Men?
Like yourselves.
You are small ...
Like the Others.
Who are the Others?
The givers of pain ...
and delight.
Do they live here
with you?
No. They come.
They give pain
and delight.
Do they come
from the sky?
They are here.
You will see.
The Others
will come for you.
They come ...
for all like us.
Do they come
for your women as well?
Women?
The female of your kind.
Your words say nothing.
Don't you have a mate?
Mate?
A companion.
Will you take us where
we can find the Others?
No one wants
to find them.
We do. We want
to find them.
Take us there,
and we'll let you go.
Captain, 500 meters
in that direction,
there's