Strangers from the Sky

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Strangers from the Sky Page 18

by Margaret Wander Bonanno

"Or maybe it's symbolic," Kirk

  suggested. "Your mother subconsciously represents

  your human half, the half you're pleading forwith

  T'Lera."

  Spock considered it.

  "A possibility. And so we come to the crux of the

  matter." He took a deep breath, gathered himself.

  The ticking of the clocks seemed to grow louder. He

  had both men's undivided attention. "The

  recurrent, virtually identical dream."

  "The blood on the walls." Kirk suppressed

  a shudder.

  "The dream which runs counter to historyea"dis"

  Spock said. "The dream whose outcome is

  violent death and an Earth withdrawn from interstellar

  contact out of xenophobic terror. The

  dream in which each of us tries and fails to offer

  T'Lera an alternative to what she believed she

  must do. The dream which each of us experiences in

  precisely identical detail, with two very

  significant exceptions.

  "One: each of us is the solitary protagonist

  of his own dream. It is as if we are

  interchangeable, and the words we utter identical.

  Two: each of us is haunted by the voice of an

  unidentified female reiterating the single phrase

  "You cannot do it alone," yet you are able to glimpse

  her, however incompletely, whereas I am not."

  "Doesn't surprise me," McCoy chimed

  in. "Jim can't resist noticing things like the color

  of a woman's hair, what she's wearing, even in

  dreams. You can."

  "Doctor, in an instance where the identity of the

  speaker hinged upon such incidentals as gender and hair

  color, I submit my powers of

  perception his

  "Gentlemen," Kirk interjected softly.

  "Finally," Spock concluded, "our psychoscans

  indicate identical mnemonic dysfunction,

  implying identical incipient psychoses." He

  waited for McCoy to comment on this, but the good

  doctor was busy polishing his halo. "The odds against

  such an occurrence in

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  two unrelated individuals from such diverse

  back- grounds who are also acquainted with each

  other," Spock went on, "are in the billions."

  "That as accurate as you can be?" McCoy couldn't

  resist. "You are slipping!"

  "In my conversation with Dr. Nayingul," Spock

  continued, ignoring McCoy, "he informed me that the

  sharing of similar dreams is common among those who

  participate in mutual Singings in Dream-time.

  However his

  "That's useful," Kirk interjected hopefully.

  "Is it possible that you and I, because of the frequency of

  mind-melds his

  Spock shook his head.

  "I had considered that. But if the dream

  "belonged" to only one of us, we should both

  experience it with the same person in the central role.

  If it were your dream, for example, I should dream of

  you conversing with T'Lera, not myself, and vice versa."

  "I see," Kirk said thoughtfully.

  "Conclusions?"

  "I believe Dr. Nayingul is correct,"

  Spock said evenly. "There is more to this than dream.

  As illogical as it may seem, Jim, I

  believe as you do that we were both in fact

  participants in this event. And our unshakable belief

  in this alternate reality, despite what we know

  to be "true," has caused what appears to be

  mental dysfunction on our psychoscans."

  was "Appears to bet?" McCoy repeated.

  "Spock, much as I respect present company, and

  much as I hate to find myself in agreement with a

  machine, in the history of modern psychology no

  scan has ever been found to be m error.

  "For everything there is a first time, doctor,"

  Spock said. "I remain convinced that neither of us is

  insane."

  "That's what they all say!" McCoy snorted.

  "Bones!" Kirk warned. "An unshakable

  belief in an alternate reality," he said

  thoughtfully, reiterating 157

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  Spock's words. "And you think that belief has a

  basis in fact?"

  "A distinct possibility."

  "Meaning we were somehow transported

  backward in time. . ." Kirk pondered it.

  "Lord knows we've done it often enough, voluntarily

  and at the behest of others. But why don't we

  remember it?"

  "Or why did we not remember it until now,"

  Spock corrected him. "Perhaps someone or

  something does not wish us to remember.

  Following your hypnosis, Dr. Sivertsen

  stated that you were 'blocking" something. So, apparently,

  am I. My dreams have resisted all attempts

  at meditative resolution. Yet something in Dr.

  Jen-Saunor's book has triggered what I can

  only conclude is not dream but memory."

  Kirk nodded, absorbing it. It was what he'd

  felt in his gut all along, what had driven him

  to the South Pacific to find Galarrwny, who had

  said essentially the same thing. tilde

  "Then it's simply a question of determining when it

  happened and why we didn't remember it."

  "Oh, is that all?" McCoy blustered, feeling

  distinctly left out. "All you've got to do is comb

  through nearly two decades of shared history to see

  if anything's missing. Every mission, every log entry,

  every time one of you sneezed and the other forgot to say

  "God bless you." Nothing to it; couldn't be

  simpler!"

  "That Is why we are here, doctor," Spock

  pointed out. "And we have forty-eight hours. And,

  thanks to you and Dr. Sivertsen, we also have a point

  from which to begin."

  "Elizabeth Dehner," Kirk said after a long

  moment.

  "Precisely. his

  "Of course!" Kirk said. It made perfect

  sense to him, even if McCoy was goggling at him.

  "Which reminds me. Will you accept an apology that's

  about fifteen years overdue?"

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  "Perhaps," Spock said, bemused.

  "Then I apolcgize. You were right."

  McCoy was heard to sigh thunderously. "This is

  what I get for leaving my decoder ring at home!"

  He addressed his familiar gods or perhaps only the

  ceiling. He directed his ire at Kirk. "Either

  you let me in on this particular mystery of the

  Intergalactic Brotherhood of Space Cadets

  or his

  "Or what?" Kirk teased. His mood had

  lightened considerably with freedom and

  present company. "Spock, should we tell him?"

  "It has to do, doctor, with "the sometimes

  serendipitous impact of coincidence upon the course

  of history,"" Spock said as if he were quoting

  something.

  McCoy didn't recognise it. Kirk did.

  "Then you have read it?"

  "Of course."

  "I find it intriguing that the author keeps such a

  low profile," Kirk observed. "There's no

  biographical material available on her at

  all."

  "Dr. Jen-Saunor holds Vulcan

  citizenship," Spock sa
id; he would know such things.

  "This implies a degree of privacy more

  pronounced than most humans would aspire to."

  "Isn't that somewhat rare for a human?" Kirk

  wondered. "At least, I'm assuming she's"

  "Godd tilde it!" McCoy had listened

  to enough.

  "Sorry, Bonos." Kirk gave him his sudden

  undivided attention. "Do yew remember who

  introduced me to Elizabeth Dehner?"

  "Do I remember? I did, the first day she was

  assigned. Why?"

  "Because until today," Kirk said, pacing it always

  helped him think better "I'd totally forgotten how

  I first met her. I thought it wasn't until Mark

  Piper brought her onto the bridge with no, wait,

  Bones; it's important. I'm now convinced

  Elizabeth Dehner is the

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  mystery woman in the dreams, even though I

  don't know why.

  "I said I owed Spock an apology that was about

  fifteen years overdue? All right, ancient

  history: Dr. Elizabeth Dehner signs

  aboard at Aldebaran; you introduce me to her the

  same day. Mark Piper relieves you while you

  lay over at Starbase 6 for some unfinished

  business or other his

  "Yes, yes, go on!" McCoy said,

  uncomfortable with the memory even after all this time; part

  of his unfinished business had included a bitter

  accusatory commpic from his daughter Joanna, who was

  taking his ex-wife's side of the

  never-ending argument on alternate weeks. "I have

  to admit there was a bleak moment at the bar when I

  almost talked myself out of it. I'd never

  committed to a five-year mission before. But, hell,

  I thought. Burned all my bridges, and you've

  been stuck with me ever since. For weal or for woe,

  as they used to say. God knows it's been six of one

  ever since.

  "While I was gone," he finished, watching

  Kirk carefully, "you managed to get into that mess

  at the edge of the galaxy, and both Liz and Gary his

  "Gary . . ." Kirk said softly the hurt, the

  sense of a life unfinished, still evident in the catch

  in his voice. The admiral cleared his throat,

  pulled himself together. "Gary, Lee Kelso, and I

  went on only one landing party together while you were gone,

  Bones. Along with this Vulcan officer I'd

  inherited from Chris Pike, who, frankly,

  intimidated the hell out of me."

  "I know the type, Jim," McCoy said, eyeing

  the silent Spock, sensing something ominous in the wings

  and trying to lighten up. "One of those superior,

  know-it-all sorts who his

  "We'd beamed down to have a closer look at this

  odd little planetoid that kept disappearing and

  reappearing," Kirk went on as if McCoy

  hadn't spoken. "Nothing unusual about the mission,

  except we never did find 160

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  out what made that planet behave the way it did.

  Nothing unusual about the report that followed,

  except that historically it marks the first time Spock

  was right and I was wrong and I had to pull rank on

  him to make it come out my way."

  He gave Spock a wi/l look. "God

  knows I wish it had been the last time, but his

  "Jim," Spock interjected quietly, "there

  is no need to recall that particular memory now."

  "Oh, yes there is," Kirk said adamantly,

  beginning. "Planet M-155. Gary dubbed it

  "The Planet That Wasn't There." For a while

  it became a rather cruel joke at someone's expense

  . . ."

  Captain James T. Kirk sat in his

  quarters signing reports on the day after his best friend

  died.

  "And thus ends the report on "The Planet

  That Wasn't There," was he said tonelessly,

  scrawling his signature across the slate with his

  bandaged hand, trying to rouse some enthusiasm for this, for

  anything, in the wake of Gary's death. "Unless you have

  something to add, Mr. Spock."

  "I regret I have not, Captain," the

  Vulcan replied solemnly. "Records of like

  phenomena are virtually nonexistent, and all

  efforts to extrapolate from tilde available

  data have proved inconclusive."

  "Then that's sufficient," Kirk said flatly.

  "Tell Yeoman Rand to append my log entry on

  the mission to your science report and let it go."

  "As you wish, Captain," Spock said, though the

  inadequacy of his findings gnawed at him. And there was

  something else. If he were not an innate

  perfectionist, he might have relegated it to the realm

  of human error and let it pass, but . . .

  "Captain, I have noted the omission of Dr.

  Elizabeth Dehner's name from your log entry on

  M-155."

  "The landing party on M-155" Kirk had the

  report on Delta Vega before him now; it was all

  he could do to 161

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  keep his hands steady, much less his voice "was

  comprised of you, me, Gary, and and Lee Kelso.

  They're all listed in the log."

  Ironic, Spock thought. Bitterly ironic that

  the very same individuals had comprised the landing party

  on M-155 and the ill-fated

  participants in the events of Delta Vega.

  Three once living, three now dead. The inclusion

  or omission of that final name would not alter the course

  of the cosmos, and yet

  "Captain, Dr. Dehner was with us on

  M-155."

  "Dr. Dehner," Kirk said tightly,

  ominously, his eyes locked on the report on

  Delta Vega, though its words were a blur to him,

  senseless, "joined us at Aldebaran and I never

  laid eyes on her until five minutes before we

  hit the energy barrier at the edge of the galaxy!"

  "Captain, I must differ with you his

  "Spock!" Kirk fixed him with his eyes for the first

  time, eyes that burned with the tears he would not shed,

  eyes that would have made a lesser being quail and turn

  away. Spock merely held them with his own. The

  tension left Kirk's body; he passed a hand

  over his eyes and sighed. "Mr. Spock, it may not

  occur to you that your merely human captain has been

  through sheer hell in the past few days, and the last thing

  I need is to have the names of those three

  people flaunted at me his

  "Captain, I assure you that was not my

  intention. If you wish, I shall make the

  correction to your log entry myself. It is

  unfortunate that those who accompanied us to M-155

  are the same three who died on Delta Vega.

  Nevertheless his

  "Spock!" Kirk's voice was pained, his face

  bewil- dered. "I'm telling you I know who was on that

  landing party. Elizabeth Definer wasn't there! Why

  are you doing this to me?"

  It was Spock's turn to be puzzled. He

  knew little 162

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  enough of the function of human memory. Was the

  captain so blinded by grief he could
forget the

  details of recent events? Or had something

  happened to him while they were on M-155, that

  dusty, treacherous anomaly that defied all their

  attempts at research, endangered all the

  humans' lives with its thin atmosphere, its

  extra-atmospheric disturbances . . .

  "Captain, if you will recall, you lost

  consciousness briefly on M-155. Perhaps his

  "Spock, that's enough!" Kirk scratched his name

  on the Delta Vega report, thrust it at him.

  "If I say Elizabeth Dehner wasn't there,

  she wasn't there."

  The error could be confinned by

  eyewitnesses by Mr. Scott and Mr. Kyle,

  who'd been in the transporter room or by the duty

  officer's landing party roster, which bore Lieutenant

  Commander Mitchell's signature. But to what

  purpose?

  "As you wish, Captain," Spock said, letting

  it stand.

  Kirk stood beside the seated Spock, concluded his

  narrative to the chiming of several of his antique

  clocks. "How many times do you suppose I barked

  first and asked questions later?" he asked, smiling.

  "I have never calculated them," Spock said in

  all innocence.

  "Liar!" Kirk grinned at him, sitting between him

  and McCoy to form the apex of a most

  extraordinary triangle. The expression on his

  face was that of a man visited with a sudden

  revelation. "Elizabeth Dehner was in the landing

  party that visited M-155, Spock. You were right and

  I was wrong. I know that now. But I didn't know it

  then, or for all the intervening years. Why?"

  "Possibly because something happened on M-155

  that caused you to forget," Spock

  suggested. "And that is the point from which we

  must begin."

  He had been preparing himself while Kirk told

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  story, sat now with his hands in one of their myriad

  contemplative configurations, glanced at McCoy,

  who was quiet for once, stewing over something.

  "Gentlemen," Spock said as another of

  Kirk's clocks chimed, out of synch with the rest.

  "As Dr. McCoy is about to point out yet again,

  our meter is running."

  McCoy blinked, emerged from his funk.

  "Whatever," he said, fuming on his tricorder.

  "I'm easy!"

  Spock took this as acquiescence, and they began.

  "My mind to your mind."

  However often the words were repeated, in whatever

  language spoken or unspoken, however often the

  Touch was performed, it never lost its sacredness.

  Between Vulcan and Vulcan, telepath and

 

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