Strangers from the Sky

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Strangers from the Sky Page 17

by Margaret Wander Bonanno


  he needed to know. He leaned toward Kirk now, his

  long fingers moving gently toward the familiar

  places, seeking the familiar paths.

  "If I may . . ." he began.

  "What is this "if I may"?" Kirk

  demanded, feinting as if to avoid Spock's Touch,

  laughing at the relief that flooded his soul. "Since

  when have you needed permission?"

  "Indeed," the Vulcan said, and Reached.

  When he withdrew his hand, and with it his mind,

  Kirk grew very still.

  "That's incredible!" he said.

  "Is it?" Spock asked mildly. "What you and

  I have experienced has always stretched the bounds of

  ordinary credulity. This is no exception."

  "You're right," Kirk acknowledged. "God, I

  hope you're right! It doesn't give me any

  answers, but at least I know I'm not crazy."

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  "That sloes it!"

  Their harmony was shattered by Krista

  Sivertsen's sharp take-charge voice.

  "You simply on taking risks, don't you?" she

  flared at Kirk, charging into the room, ignoring

  Spock entirely. "First the Dreaming, now this! One

  of my aides was observing from the booth."

  She nodded toward one of the suspect mirrors.

  "And she called me." She turned on Spock,

  furious. "I suppose you've already done your

  damage?"

  "There has been no damage of my causing,

  Dr. Sivertsen," Spock replied coolly.

  "However, unless Admiral Kirk is released from

  this facility inunediately to seek an

  alternate form of cure, certain irreparable

  damage may ensue."

  "I know you have a great many talents, Captain

  Spock," Krista said icily. "But I had no

  idea an expertise in psychology was among them!"

  ""It is not," Spock said evenly. "None

  is needed in this instance. Admiral Kirk's

  difficulty is not psychological in origin. He

  is not insane."

  ("Never try to second-guess a Vulcan,"

  her best friend Liz had once written to Krista,

  years ago when she'd taken her first deepspace

  assignment, transferred from the Aldebaran

  Colony to serve on a ship with a Vulcan first

  officer. "They'll outflank you before you can shake your

  argument out of the mid-brain."

  Krista still kept all of Liz's letter-disks, still

  remembered all of Liz's pearls of wisdom.

  They'd been roommates during their internship,

  looked enough alike to be mistaken for sisters.

  Krista had adored Liz, treasured her

  sharp-cornered advice. But an innate restlessness

  had driven Liz offworld, and she had died not long after

  she'd left Aldebaran for her first starship

  assignment.)

  But this was neither the time nor the place to resurrect

  those memories. Krista Sivertsen took a deep

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  breath and readied herself. She would not

  second-guess this particular Vulca tilde Liz

  had learned about him and his kind too late to save

  herself but she wouldn't let him outflank her either.

  "The term 'insane" is considered somewhat archaic

  in modern psychology, Captain Spock," she

  began, buying time as she showed him into her office.

  Kirk had agreed to wait outside; whatever else

  could be said about a Vulcan mind-meld, it seemed

  to have a calming effect upon the human participant.

  "We feel it has a connotation of hopelessness which,

  under

  contemporary advances in the field his

  "Whatever euphemism those in your profession

  currently employ," Spock cut her off, "the

  fact remains: Admiral Kirk is not insane."

  "Would you care to look at his psychoscan?"

  Krista demanded heatedly. She could not abide

  amateurs, regardless of their species. "Or perhaps

  you'd like to read the transcript of my report on his

  condition, or a tape of this morning's

  hypnosis?"

  Spock said nothing; his face told her nothing.

  She had the facts at her disposal. Why did she

  feel as if she were up to her ankles in quicksand?

  "I know you're a close friend of Jim

  Kirk's," she said, trying the reasonable approach.

  "And I respect that. But if you think you can

  persuade me on that basis his

  "It would never occur to me," Spock said

  mildly.

  What was his game? Krista wondered, groping.

  Her field was human psychology; she was out of her

  depth with Vulcans and this one seemed to know it. She

  felt the metaphorical quicksand creeping up to her

  knees.

  "If you think you can pull rank on me, you can

  forget that, too. You're on my turf here, and my

  orders are to keep Jim Kirk confined "until

  he is completely and permanently cured,"

  unquote. And they're signed by the Old Man

  himself."

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  Spock seemed to weigh this.

  "Was the order deactivating

  Admiral Kirk's transceiver also signed

  by Admiral Nogura?"

  "It was."

  "May I ask why?"

  "As a security measure. I'm sure you're

  familiar with the procedure. And to spare Kirk any

  unnecessary disturbances during the course of treatment."

  "Meaning messages from Dr. Nayingul or

  myself."

  "If you want to look at it that way."

  "I shall have to persuade Admiral Nogura

  to rethink his decision," Spock said with utter

  equanimity, and Krista had no doubt he was one

  of the two people on the planet who could. "However, that is

  inconsequential at present. Dr. Sivertsen,

  I have heard your arguments regarding Admiral

  Kirk's condition. Will you grant me the courtesy of

  hearing mine?"

  "I have the facts on my side, Captain, and

  I won't be budged. No one suffering such severe

  delusional nightmares will be allowed to leave this

  facility as long as I'm a member of the staff."

  Spock appeared to arrive at a decision.

  "Very well, doctor. Then I suggest you commit

  me to your facility as well. I have

  experienced the same nightmares."

  Krista Sivertsen watched the results of

  Spock's psychoscan come up on her screen.

  When she had adjusted the readout for Vulcan

  Norm, it showed the same mnemonic dysfunction as

  Kirk's.

  "I thought you were bluffing," she said.

  Spock resisted the obvious response. The

  psychiatrist was staring at the readout in disbelief.

  "I've never seen anything like this. The odds against it

  must be astronomical." Spock resisted

  responding to this as well. "Maybe it's what you

  get for messing around in mere human minds with your

  Vulcan techniques." She turned off the

  screen, as if not seeing the

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  readout before her would somehow make it less

  uncanny. "I don't understand how this is possible.

  I understand even less the point of this Py
rrhic

  victory of yours, but it looks as if you'll be

  keeping the admiral company. I'll see you get

  adjoining rooms."

  "Then I trust you have a Vulcan healer

  on-staff?" Spock inquired mildly.

  "This is Earth!" Krista Sivertsen said

  incredulously. "There are probably fewer than

  a dozen Vulcan healers on the entire planet,

  and to my knowledge none of them is a practising

  psychiatrist. Tradition has it your people don't

  suffer psychological disorders, but the evidence I

  have on that scan says otherwise."

  "Seven," Spock said quietly.

  "Come agam?"

  "There are at present seven Vulcan healers in

  residence within the sol system, including Luna and the

  Martian Colonies, and none is a

  practising psychiatrist," Spock said. "The

  nearest healer so qualified is T'Sri of

  Rigel XII, and assuming she were immediately

  available, she could not arrive on Earth in less

  than seventeen Standard days.

  "Consequently, doctor, unless you or someone on

  your staff possesses a degree in

  xenopsychology, you cannot keep me here.

  "Why, you cold-blooded, manipulative . .

  .!" Krista Sivertsen flared, losing her cool

  entirely. "What the hell do you want from me?"

  Spock told her.

  "Forty-eight hours, no more," she told

  McCoy when she'd sent for him. "They'll be in your

  custody. They're not to leave Kirk's apartment, and

  you're not to let them out of your sight. If you need a

  couple of security guards His

  "Of course not!" McCoy blustered, not quite sure

  of that himself, considering the hijinks these two had pulled

  on him in the past.

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  "Forty-eight hours," Krista repeated.

  "Sooner if you see any indications of crisis.

  If they can't work their miracle in that much time his

  "You'll have them back," McCoy promised,

  hoping against hope that whatever his two charges were up

  to would work.

  Krista delivered them to him at the Admissions

  desk with a kind of relief.

  "Liz was right," she said to McCoy. "She always

  said, 'ationever try to second-guess a Vulcan."

  I should have listened."

  "Yes, Liz always was good with the homey little

  Earthisms, wasn't she?" McCoy said sadly;

  obviously he knew who Krista was talking about if

  the other two didn't. He eyed Spock

  sceptically. "Pity I never had the

  benefit of that particular one. Might have saved me a

  decade or two of aggravation. Poor Liz!"

  "A mutual friend?" Kirk asked, making

  conversation as they walked across the MedArts

  quadrangle. Now that Krista was no longer his

  shrink, at least for the next forty-eight hours, he

  could devote his full appreciation to her as a

  person.

  "Friend of Krista's," McCoy specified.

  "Briefly a student of mine. Brilliant

  girl, untimely death. Come to think of it, Jim, you

  knew her, too."

  "Did I?"

  Kirk searched his no-longer-to-be-trusted

  memory for another lady psychiatrist. He'd

  gone through a phase where he'd found professional

  women Ruth, Carol, Janet, Areel

  particularly attractive, but as far as he knew

  "She was assigned as Enterprise's staff

  psychiatrist when she died, Admiral," Krista

  said, keeping her voice level, her tone free of

  accusation.

  "Liz," Kirk mused. "Elizabeth. Not . .

  .?"

  "Elizabeth Dehner." Krista's

  voice trembled slightly, though her face would have

  done a Vulcan proud.

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  Kirk was less fortunate. The mention of the name

  froze him barely inches from freedom.

  McCoy noticed the impact immediately, wished

  he'd kept his mouth shut. Liz Dehner would always

  be irrevocably linked with Gary Mitchell in

  Kirk's mind. To remind Kirk of Gary now, when

  he was so vulnerable . . .

  But Kirk wasn't thinking of Mitchell at

  all. What had him nonplussed was a memory of

  Elizabeth Dehner before the incident on Delta

  Vega, a moment of deja-vu that all but

  announced itself by a lightbulb over his head. An

  instant before it had not existed in any reality he

  knew.

  "Elizabeth Dehner," he said incredulously,

  "is the blonde in the dreams. Spock, the voice

  his

  The Vulcan also stood transfixed, seemed

  to shake off some private reverie. "Yes. Yes,

  indeed!"

  "Spock!" Kirk said, groping for

  something. "The landing party on M-155 . . . the

  Planet That Wasn't There. his

  "Interesting," the Vulcan said slowly. "A

  possibility.

  McCoy, standing between them, felt his hair stand on

  end as if he were about to be struck by lightning. He

  had no idea what had just

  happened, but if it had anything to do with what they had

  less than forty-eight hours to solve, he was

  hardly going to let it take place here. Krista was

  looking at both of his friends as if she were strongly

  tempted to change her mind.

  "Jim," McCoy interceded, grabbing his arm.

  "Spock, save your thought. Our meter's running."

  "Bones, you really could take the time off," Kirk

  said winningly, over the ticking of his multitude of

  antique clocks. "We'll be good."

  "Not likely!" McCoy growled, rattling around

  in Kirk's minuscule kitchen. "Don't you ever

  buy any real

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  food? Goddamn synthesised,

  reconstituted..." He emerged finally with a prefab

  sandwich and a glass of amber liquid in his

  hand. "At least your bourbon's real. Where's

  Spock?"

  "Talking to Galarrwny on the bedroom screen,"

  Kirk said distractedly, wondering what part of his

  brain the two were dissecting in his absence. "Did you

  think he'd shimmied down a drainpipe? It's over

  fifty stories to the street."

  "I wouldn't put it past him! Can we get on with

  this? The more I think of baby-sitting you renegades for

  two entire days I should have taken Krista up on

  her offer of security guards. Posted one at the

  front door and another in here to relieve me. I

  can see where I'm gonna have to watch the pair of you in

  my sleep."

  "Considering the usual stentorian clamor which

  accompanies that activity on your part," Spock

  re- marked, emerging from the bedroom, "it is

  unlikely any of us will derive much rest from this

  experience."

  "Don't start with me!" McCoy began, but

  Kirk cut him off.

  "Bones, our meter's running. Spock,

  what've we got?"

  Spock settled himself by the inactive fireplace

  between Kirk and McCoy.

  "The facts are these, Jim: you and I have,

  simultaneously and in the absence of


  communication, experienced a series of dreams

  relating to a particular event in Earth's history

  previously unknown to us. This in itself is neither

  surprising nor especially alarming. Doubtless many

  individuals, upon reading Strangers from the Sky, were

  sufficiently intrigued by its premise

  to incorporate it into their dreams."

  "Krista said it was bringing the weirdos out in

  droves," McCoy remarked, fiddling with his

  medical tricorder. He Iooked at Kirk.

  "Sorry!"

  "However," Spock went on as if McCoy had

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  spoken, "that which began as dream soon

  increased in frequency and intensity, becoming more

  immediate, more "real," if you will, than our waking

  lives. There was a sense that we were involved with these

  historical personages, knew them intimately,

  including details that were not present in the book.

  There was also a growing sense of ominousness, of something

  indefinable gone awry. And there is more."

  He watched McCoy fuss with the

  tricorder, preparatory to recording everything that

  transpired in this room for the next two

  days though he would, of course, only pick up

  fragments of what had happened through the mind-meld as

  evidence for Krista Sivertsen's files.

  McCoy noticed the prolonged silence.

  "Go on, go on, I'm listening!"

  "Several of our dreams do not overlap, but remain

  separate to each of us," Spock continued. "As if

  we were interacting with different individuals at

  different times. These separate dreams are totally in

  keeping with our

  personalities. You, Jim, engage in a

  tennis match with Melody Sawyer, with all of its

  subsequent consequences, whereas I his

  He glanced again at McCoy or, more

  accurately, at the intrusive presence of the

  tricorder, and hesitated.

  "What is it, Spock?" Kirk urged him

  gently. "If it's too personal his

  "I," Spock said slowly, "dreamed -- about my

  mother."

  Briefly he told them the content of his

  dialogue with Amanda.

  "Dreamed about your mother, did you?"

  McCoy asked, sensing Spock's embarrassment,

  trying to bluster his way around it. "So what? A little

  of the old human nature creeping in. Even you must

  let your guard down during a REM cycle. Or

  are you going to tell me Vulcans have an Oedipus

  myth?"

  "Doctor his

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

 

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