was the so-called SDI system of the last century, which
was dismantled with the signing of the United Earth
Accords. Present systems will not anticipate a
vessel containing aliens heading away from Earth.
"Consequently, if Sorahl is as skilled a
navigator as his commander purports him to be,"
Spock concluded dryly, studying his
paradoxically both younger and elder kinsman, "their
vessel should be able to leave the Sol system
undetected."
"And that's the best we can do," Kirk said in turn
to T'Lera. "I only wish we could give you warp
drive."
"It is more than sufficient, Captain,"
T'Lera replied. "And if my navigator is as
skilled as I purport him to be, it will serve."
Kelso had tuned the on-board computer to a
nearby radio band to check up on his tapeworm
crop.
"dis . . rumors continue to trickle in from the
frozen continent, particularly in light of the discovery
of the
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
bodies of four armed individuals, one of them
reputed tilde ly that of the terrorist leader known as
Racher, the Avenging One . . ."
Covered with lubricant and grinning from ear to ear,
Lee Kelso slid back under the chassis of the old
DY-100 and whistled while he worked.
"In a not-unrelated story, PentaKrem
officials have issued a statement confirming
that the Aeroationav vessel found at anchor off the
coast of Mali this morning is in fact the CSS
Delphinus, the same vessel sent to retrieve
an unidentified spacecraft from the South
Pacific two weeks ago. Captain Jason
Nyere and his first officer, along with two
as-yet-unidentified civilians who were the only
personnel aboard, were removed from the ship for questioning .
. ."
"And if I've done my job right" Elizabeth
Dehner handed off the container of food
concentrates Parneb had just unloaded from the
overlander to Jim Kirk, who stacked it atop the
others in the hold "they'll find all four of them
smiling, cooperative, and totally uninformed about
what's happened to them in the past two weeks."
"God willing!" Kirk said.
"dis . . this just in: security forces in
Antarctica report the arrest of four
individuals passing themselves off as journalists in
an attempt to leave the continent at a point not too
far from Byrd Research Complex, the
still-unconfirmed site where two alleged
extraterrestrials were
supposedly being held. One of the four
detainees was identified as Aghan, participant in
the Twelve November Alliance . . ."
"Optimum launch window at 2300 hours,
Commander," Spock informed T'Lera as an
automated winch slowly raised the DY-100
to its vertical position beside the waiting gantry.
"Affirm," T'Lera said distantly, her thoughts
already on the stars.
"dis . . further evidence that the body found frozen
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
a disabled snowmobile, along with a substantial
cache of arms, is in fact that of the ringleader of the
group calling themselves the Easter Rebellion. The
mystery deepens in conjunction with the death of the
survivalist leader Racher and the arrest of four
others, suggesting that terrorism in our time has been
dealt a serious, possibly fatal blow . . ."
The desert sky was cloudless and abrim with stars.
One of this glittering host, a red M-2 sun about
which orbited a harsh, demanding world, birthplace of
fourteen billion disciplined, logical beings,
beckoned two of its number home. A third
native of that world, who as yet had no home, began
a countdown from the control room
beneath the rock. Inside the clumsy Earth ship,
T'Lera of Vulcan touched the controls,
triangulated off that glinting ruby in the sky,
and the lumbering DY-100 lifted off.
Radio telescopes at Arecibo, Puerto
Rico, in Khazakstan and the Nevada desert, on
Mars and the far side of the moon, scanned the skies
outward, unnoticing of a small silver ship
slipstreaming under their noses, past Jupiter and beyond.
Sorahl kept Kelso's radio frequency
open as long as it was viable.
"dis . . disease continues to spread unchecked, with
unconfirmed reports that the entire South
Pacific crop has now been affected.
Personnel on Luna and Mars have been advised of
possible food shortages and the need to abandon their
bases and return to Earth if . . ."
"No sir." Yoshi smiled affably at the
intell-agent asking all the questions. "Jason never
told us where he was taking us or why. Naturally I
wanted to stay with my crops, but pass up a free
vacation?"
Other intell-agents, searching his cabin aboard
Delphtnus, puzzled over a book of
late-twentieth- century poems entitled
You and I hidden with his socks.
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
Yoshi used to read those poems aloud to Tatya
on the agrostation, he explained. Love poems, you
know. The intell-agents nodded, put the book
back, completely missing the crumpled computer
printout stuck in it for a bookmark.
"We've done our best," Jim Kirk
announced to the remnant of his crew long after the
DY-100'S trajectory had taken her out of
sight. He climbed into the overlander with the others.
"Parneb, take us home."
"Leaving Sol system in one hundred
seventy-three minutes mark, Commander,"
Sorahl reported, reverting to the language and the
time measurement of his birth planet, which somehow
fitted him not so smoothly after two Earth weeks of
speaking Standard.
"Affirm," T'Lera replied, her far-searching
eyes containing only the stars.
The transmissions from Earth continued, growing
fainter.
"dis . . begun in 1986 as the World Hunger
Year Concerts, in those desperate times when
much of the world's people were inadequately fed, this year's
sixtieth annual Concert for Peace seems
particularly poignant in view of the recent uproar
over a possible alien incursion upon Earth . . ."
"dis . . PentaKrem spokespersons, in a
joint statement with the United Earth Council,
reiterated yet again today that maneuvers in the South
Pacific and on the Antarctic continent,
erroneously believed by media infiltrators to be
evidence of an alien invasion, were nothing more than a
test of Earth's preparedness to cope with any
potential invasion. Repeat: rumors of an alien
invasion were totally false; the exercises carried on
by Combined Services forces were intended to test
planetary defense systems and to assess Earth's
readiness to deal with life on other worlds.
PentaKrem and council
officials have stated
unequivocally that there were not, and never have been, aliens
on Earth. We repeat: the so-called alien invasion
. . ."
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
As the slow-moving sleeper ship passed Pluto,
the radio signal continued to fade.
"dis . . concluding our classical
program with the suite from Sergei Prokofiev's
"Lt. Kite." This comic tale of the imaginary
romantic hero created by a stroke of Czar
Nicholas's pen his
- Static from the Oort Cloud swallowed the
signal. Sorahl, like his commander, turned his thoughts
outward to the stars.
Parneb's overlander Dulled up in front of his
tel in the hour before dawn. Keiso still had the radio
on.
"We repeat once again: there were not and never have been
his
"Lee, enough!" Jim Kirk said testily as
everyone piled out of the vehicle. "burn that thing
off!"
Kelso did. Everyone but Spock went inside.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said quietly in the
morning stillness. Somehow the relationship between them would
never be the same. "Come inside, please. The
sooner we get out of here . . ."
The Vulcan seemed lost in thought. "A
moment, please, Captain."
He stood in the deserted Theban street beneath a
royal-blue sky in the hour before dawn, at the
base of a tel of six thousand years"
building in this ancient Earth place. He would not have
attracted attention had some early riser happened
by, dressed as he was in a sky-blue djellaba,
his stark features enhanced by the turban that did indeed
make him look almost Egyptian. Spock gazed
for what might be the last in a long time at the sky of
Earth, where all but the brightest stars had faded, and
reached inside the djellaba to remove a thin silver
chain from around his neck.
He held the talisman in his gifted hands and
considered. This thing belonged to Earth; he had no right
to take it with him. Loosening some stones from the base
of the tel. Spock buried the talisman in Earth.
The others, back in Starfleet uniform, were
waiting
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
for him in Parneb's ancient cellar. Above and
beyond them, as Parneb made his preparations for their
departure, an awakening world turned on its
vidscreens to the first somber news of the day.
"dis . . today mourned the death of Professor
Jeremy Grayson, who died peacefully in his
sleep . . ."
"You're sure this will work?" Kirk asked
Parneb, uneasy about the entire process.
"You have worked your magic, Captain," the sorcerer
said equably. "Now it is my turn."
He had moved the great crystal down to the ancient
room beneath the tel to augment its power; it pulsed and
glowed in empathy with the smaller crystal hung about his
neck. Jim Kirk found himself wondering if a
transporter were any less magical.
He had arrayed his people on the sand-swept floor as
if awaiting a transporter beam up, noticed
Kelso was out of position. He cleared his throat.
"Mr. Kelso?"
"Just saying good-bye!" Kelso took a last
look around, gave Parneb's colossal walls a
final loving pat. "I may never find this place
again," he pointed out, rejoimag the others.
He did not see the look of sorrow on
Parneb's face.
"We're ready," Kirk said.
He remembered nothing else.
Parneb's calm had been a sham; he was no more
sure of the range of his powers now than when he'd first
brought these people here. But he was their only hope for
return to their century; how could he possibly
tell them that? Clasping the small crystal
in both hands, vowing never to tamper with time again if
only this worked, he concentrated all of his strength
to make wishing make it so....
And overshot the mark. He felt the five of them
surge away from him, to a time beyond time. The
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
images in the great crystal sprang out at him,
splayed themselves on the walls in images of bloody
horror, in montage of betrayal and violence and
death, of voices he knew, but voices distorted
by urgency, tragedy and fear.
"Above all else a god needs compassion . .
."
"Well, it didn't make any sense that he'd
know . . ."
"Spock is right and you're a fool if you can't
see
tilde ...
"Oh, dear!" Parneb lamented, shaking his head as
if it could drive the images away, clasping the
crystal as if to crush it into submission and pull them
back.
"Kill me while you can . . ."
"A cod needs CO-MDASS-ION
. . ."
"KihI Mitchell white you still can . . ."
"I'm sorry . . . You can't know what it's like
to be almost a god . . . his
"Pray to me, Captain. . . pray that you die
easily . . ."
"Compassion . . . his
"I'm sorry . . ."
"Kill Mitchell . . ."
"Kill me . . ."
"Above an else a god needs compassion,
MITCH- ELL!"
Parneb seized the great crystal, wrestled it
into submission, his fingers burning into it as if clutching
dry ice. The images whirled, assaulted him,
fused themselves into him as he pulled them back, back
. . .
To a place of swirling blue dust and clouded
judgment, where two figures, one standing watch, the
other fallen in undignified sprawl in the sand
"Captain?"
A strong and gentle hand helped Jim Kirk
to his feet.
"What happened?" Kirk dusted his trousers,
mentally checked for bruises, tried
to remember where they were and why. The first was easier than
the second.
"Apparently the thinness of the atmosphere is inimi
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
cat to human lungs, Captain. You lost
consciousness. I took the liberty of having the
others beamed aboard."
"You did the right thing," Kirk said vaguely. The
others. The rest of the landing party, obviously, but who?
"Mr. Mitchell and Mr. Kelso reported
some upper respiratory distress," Spock was
saying, and Kirk fixed the two names in his memory.
Bits of their mission were coming back to him, but why was
he so disoriented? "They are reporting
to Sickbay."
"Good," Kirk said, beginning to cough from the dust.
"Captain?" The Vulcan appeared concerned.
"May I suggest we beam up also? There is nothing
further to be learned here."
The details came back to Kirk at last: a
landing party, to examine a planet that seemed
to disappear. The planet on which they were now standing, and which
at any moment
"You did not lose consciousness, Mr.
Spock?"
The Vulcan shook his head. "I am not aware of
having done so, Captain. However, my time sense
accounts for a loss of point-five minutes, and somehow
I seem to have damaged my uniform."
He showed Kirk where the hem of his tunic was
torn, his insignia gone.
"And my communicator's missing," Kirk
realised, feeling for it, searching the sand at his
feet. "If we had more time you say we lost only
half a minute?"
"Affirmative, Captain, however his
"However, it's not a good idea to stick around and
wait for this dustball to take us into oblivion again,"
Kirk finished for him. "We can continue our research
aboard the Enterprise. Which, as I seem
to recall, is what you recommended in the first
place. Remind me, Mr. Spock, to place more
confidence in your judgment in future."
The words were said in all seriousness, but a Vulcan
-
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
somehow better versed in irony accepted them as they
were intended.
"I shall give it first priority, Captain."
can. tilde
Spock terminated the meld, emerging into the
realign of light.
And noise. Specifically, McCoy's
snoring. The doctor lay sprawled in his chair
near the dormant hearth head thrown back, mouth
gaping, hands limp over the chair arms, one booted
foot propped like a dead thing on the footrest, the
other twisted improbably beneath the chair. He might
have been dead, shot through the heart, except for the
noise.
He had thundered off to sleep somewhere in the 28.6
hours that the other two had labored down the
intricate paths of memory and history. No
matter. The tricorder, tumbled out of his insensate
hands and upended on the carpet, was still running. Its
attentiveness to what had transpired was more
important, finally, than Mc- Coy's. No
matter what it ultimately recorded, James
Kirk's sanity was no longer an issue.
Spock retrieved the tricorder, turned it
off, pondered some way to effect a similar result
on McCoy. How one could purport to derive
any benefit from a state of rest
accompanied by such a prodigy of sound . . .
Spock looked at Kirk, who sat slumped
forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, face
buried in his hands.
"Are you all right, Jim?"
Kirk's shoulders sagged momentarily before that
voice restored him. He ran his hands through his hair
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