Star Trek - Pandora Principle

by Pandora Principle

  "Mr. Spock, we just picked up three ships on scan, no data yet on size. They're heading this way. At present course and speed, ETA is. four hours, twelve minutes. Is that enough-"

  "It should be, Mr. Sulu. If not, you have your orders."

  "Sulu," Uhura reported, "transporter room confirms."

  ". yes, sir. And that cargo, Mr. Spock. It's aboard."

  "Set delay for two hours, Mr. Scott. And hurry. Spock out."

  The bridge was very quiet. Sulu stared at the scan's blinking dots, then at the main screen where the scoutship hung suspended in the tractor beam. Like a loose end, he thought, just waiting to come unraveled. He thought about his orders if Spock didn't make it back in time. He thought about that cargo now on board the Enterprise. He wondered why he'd ever wanted a command of his own.

  "Sulu?" Uhura whispered. "Hurry with what?"

  "The bomb," he said. "Spock's going to blow that mountain."

  Spock signed off, his eyes on Saavik, who gave no sign of awareness at his presence. She huddled on the ground, her face hidden against the rock where he'd told her to wait, it seemed an age ago. He knelt beside her, and when she didn't pull away, he touched his fingers lightly to her temple. Memories flowed raw and clear now across the surface of her mind, all the way back to the beginning. Look up, Little Cat, said a voice from the past.

  . different from the others, that Quiet One with the angry eyes. She was not so quiet. She watched and hated too-and found ways tonight. "Take my food, Little Cat, so you stay fierce and quick. Guards are coming, Little Cat, so run away and hide. Someday, Little Cat, I will get you out of here. I must tell my people. I must find a way." And She pointed at the sky and talked about a place called Home, where Quiet Ones and Little Ones belonged, where there were no guards or people dying in the night, where food was free and children slept and no one was afraid. Home was that one, there, with all the others shining in the night. "Stars, Little Cat, you must always watch the stars. They are the only things of beauty on this forsaken world. Watch them, for they watch over you." Time went by. Ships came, took workers with them when they went away, leaving angry guards behind, and they kept all the food. ". you are starving, Little Cat, and all I have to give you is the stars. You are like them, brave and bright. Remember that, when you are hungry and afraid. No matter how dark and terrible the night-look up. They all belong to you. Remember to look up, Little Cat. Look up, and see the stars." But the last Quiet Ones disappeared, the night that ship came down blasting dust across the plain. Saavik searched in all Her places, sobbing in despair. Gone, gone like the others, never coming back. So Saavik watched the ship that night, guards drinking, walking carelessly away. And then a voice came calling on the wind. "Here! Over here, Little Cat!" She was there! A shadow in the shadows of the ship. "Run! Run, Little Cat! We are going home!" So far, so far. stones cut sharp in running feet. Guards heard, came shouting, pounding, hard and close behind Beams of fire flared past her head, torched the ground, scarred the metal of the ship. They would burn Her, ship and all-and She would die and They would win. NOTNOTNOT! NOT THIS ONE!

  Saavik stopped running. She turned and threw herself at them as they came rushing past, knocking both off balance, scratching, biting, clawing for their throats. "Live! Live, Little Cat! I'll come back for you! Oh, forgive me, Little Cat." Fists slammed and fire guns whined. Bones crushed and engines roared. The ship lifted whipping dust, hovered for a moment, then soared off into the night. And they went on beating her, screaming curses as the blows rained down. And slung across a shoulder as they carried her away, she saw the little cowards lurking in the rocks: other children watching, doing nothing and afraid. But those trails of light kept climbing, higher and higher in the dark, and part of her climbed with them until the sky itself went out.

  Spock saw it all: the horror in the cave; the hours hiding in the tunnels until the guards were gone; the days of bleeding, hanging between life and death while fever ruled her mind and hunger ate away her bones. But somehow Saavik lived, to throw her knife and curse her world and always watch the stars, and tried to never fall asleep so she wouldn't hear the screaming.

  He saw the new lights shine across the waste and Quiet Ones walk the world again, and maybe they had food. he listened with her at the tent: Those children, Spock, should never have been born. Vulcan nature torn apart and shamed. and felt a nameless dread as he shivered with her in the wind, trying to remember why. And finally, he heard himself: the Quiet One different from the others, the Quiet One who was not so quiet, that night he talked about a place called Home. I know now, Saavikam.

  Spock drew back his hand. His mind sought itself again in cool, well-structured rooms of thought where logic reigned and chaotic things stayed locked away, but he found no solace there. His privileged life rose before him, and its own small struggles paled. His disciplines seemed empty now, denials mere conceits. Encyclopedic knowledge came to nothing here; the old equations failed. Because Saavik was in pain, alone in the dark, and he would give anything, anything he owned, to stop it. But short of wiping out her hard-won memories along with the suffering they caused, he knew no way to do that. And it seemed wrong that he didn't know. It seemed to him the greatest failure of his life.

  Hellguard's wind blew gently now, gusting, chasing dust along the ground, and overhead the stars burned cold.

  "She. gave me food," Saavik whispered, "and I never knew her name. Was she. my mother, Spock? Did she ever find her home?"

  Yes, he longed to lie, home and safe. "T'Pren. Her name was T'Pren. I knew her for a moment. She was brave, Saavikam, almost as brave as you." And as they watched the bright, indifferent stars, very quietly, he told her the truth. ". no, she was not your mother. But she would have been. She would have searched the Universe to find you." That caused Saavik to turn her face away.

  "So you found me. You gave me everything-and I-I almost-"

  "But you didn't. Don't cry, Saavikam. It is over now."

  "It is not over!" she raged. "It will never be over! I want to kill him-I will want it all my life! And if I ever get the chance." She looked at him with tears spilling down her face and no pride left to make them stop. "Forgive me, Spock, for failing you, but I can never be a Vulcan. This. is what I am."

  "There is nothing to forgive," he said, as he brushed the hair out of her eyes. "There never was. Except a teacher who kept his failure to himself. Come with me, Saavikam. See what I see, know what I know." Yes, I am what I am, he thought as he reached out to her. For once in his life, absurdly, he was glad.

  Saavik wept as though she would die. Spock's uniform was wet, soft against her cheek. His fingers smoothed her hair and reached deep to smooth her mind. So strange to feel another heart beating with her own, another breath inside another life. So bright, this warm, quiet curtain that fell between herself and pain. It gave her new eyes, new sight, a lens moving into focus.

  Suddenly it came to Saavik that she had not made her world; like children everywhere, she just happened to be born. why had she never thought of that? She thought of other, stranger things. Questions washed like waves upon a shore. Did the Vulcans walk into those chambers grateful that the chance to save a life gave meaning to their deaths? Did T'Pren find the courage to cling to life so long in a child who turned and fought and chose to stay behind? And did that one brave moment change this world she never made and events of years to come?. the questions became her own. Spock's hand rested on her face. His arms wrapped around her, and time was standing still. She was not afraid. It was so warm here, so bright inside his mind. And there were rooms-wonderful rooms. Libraries of a lifetime, universes of knowledge in mathematical precisions, abstractions of refined clarity-and a door.

  One perfect, beautiful door. Never opened. Never reached.

  Your answer lies elsewhere, Spock... and a vast indifferent Mind-a Voyager incapable of brightness-kept reminding him why it was so. But that perfect door remained. His rooms understood all this. People came and went, adding equations in t
heir passing-and one never left, that one who scrambled Spock's equations on purpose, laughing, illuminating. The walls assimilated even this, growing taller, stronger, finding equilibrium. And then.

  An impossibly familiar child stood in the dust. Holloweyed, naked, starving. Proudly claiming ownership of nothing less than all the heavens. Spock! Tells me somethings new now! Firsttime! The rooms took on uncertainty, disarray. New matrices formed hastily, deleted themselves, formed again. Errors occurred. Dreadful screechings of computers. Look, Spock! I DID it!. and equilibrium became a state of flux. But brighter. Shining in secret on such tiny things: eyes wide with wonder; clenched fists that didn't strike; small fingers thriving, stroking helpless creatures, prying into everything-but one box high upon a shelf.

  Oh, I meant to tell you-on the ship in a drawer. Victory. A battle won. A promise kept, that knife left lying there.

  But all my mistakes-are turning inside out! You begin to understand.

  And another drawer, secret as the light, that held another knife and an old bit of paper: SPOCK NOTGO. , a holo of her scowling face and a file tape from the Academy:EXAMINATION/EVALUATION OF FEDERATION CITIZEN SAAVIK. So much light inside that drawer, spilling over distances, pouring through the years. No failure, no shame, only Saavik-asking, learning, winning every day.

  But that is only what I am-and it is not enough! Ah, yes. The door.

  Brightness could cast shadows. Light could blind, betray.

  It gathered overhead into a sun. Sun of suns, day of days. Quietest Ones of all serene in robes, carven stones beneath their feet, voices chanting song: Here on these sands our forebears cast out-

  -the light, Spock? Yes. And the dark. The rooms, the people, the one who laughs. and you. Everything. For that door.

  Perhaps, for half-Vulcans, it just takes a little longer.

  The rooms strained at their confining walls, yearning for new dimensions. Voices chanted on the air, sun on ancient stones-

  -and something was happening to Spock, happening in his then and now. Saavik sensed it, grew afraid. Felt his hand go cold, his breathing cease, his mind turn toward the song. His heart no longer beat with hers; it scarcely beat at all. I don't belong here, she tried to say. But arms held her, arms and light.

  Your answer lies.

  Behind that door, Spock, that beautiful-

  Elsewhere! said Spock, once and for all, to his sun and stones and voices of Vulcan. He breathed deep and free. I seek no Truth that cannot be taught, no Peace that cannot be shared. I am what I am. And some things-I choose-not to leave behind.

  And then it was all gone, the sun and stones and singing. An empty space trembled where memory had been, with nothing left in it but silence, arms and light, and a perfect, beautiful door.

  Opening. Opening wide.

  And on its threshold all the walls came down, bemused, objective even in their dissolution. Inside out. Fascinating.

  Light streamed and rippled as they walked-strange, for they were standing still, and the stillness played a music of its own. The brilliance flowed around them beckoning, enfolding, sweeping them away. She knew this place she'd never seen: a continuum of light and dark, a woven spinning balance in crystal harmonies of thought. Enigmas came unraveled here, where Past and Future, Plan and Chance, Time and Distance lost their shapes-and found them. Equations refracted into prisms extending to infinities. It was ship and stars, journey and destination, going toward it and being there all at the same time. And they were not alone.

  Everyone was here. Every soul Spock ever touched, every being he had ever known: mother, father, captain, friends. and T'Pren-whole and peaceful, safe and home. And there were multitudes Spock had never met who knew him just the same: wistful legions from a past before his time began, spirits waiting to be born in a future he would never see. Life touching life touching life, meeting here in this forever of the mind. Spock stood among them exactly as he was-in the dust of Hellguard after all, holding what he would not leave behind-and no one seemed surprised.

  The meaning comes differently. the reasons for being born. And Saavik understood how their difference made their Truth the same. How it was enough to be standing where they were, who they were, doing what they must and living in their days, while they all walked together here inside the light. Enough and so much more. We all are what we are, and we are all each other. even in the dark and dust. She must remember that. How once she saw this place of no anger, no pain, no halves of anything anymore; how once, just once, she belonged. How Spock gave her even that. I'll remember, Spock, I promise. But I know it will be over soon.

  As that errant thought strayed through her mind, Saavik also knew she was still crying, Spock still stroked her hair, and only minutes had passed. The brightness lingered even as the ground took shape beneath her feet again. Dust still blew. Stars still glittered in the sky. Identities divided slowly, each to its own form, but neither of them moved. She searched for thoughts to ask about that light, what it was, where it came from-

  I do not know, Saavikam. Only that it shines. And something else, terribly important, that Spock was about to tell her-

  But his communicator shrilled, a sharp, urgent sound. He let her go, steadied her on her feet. The ground trembled, and Saavik felt a sinking dread, an aching in her heart. I know. Spock was putting his own tricorder in her hands, sliding the strap around her neck. I know what it was! He was telling me. good-bye.

  "You will beam up, Saavikam. Give this to Mr. Sulu. It must reach Starfleet Command. Do you understand?" She nodded, dazed, in no condition to argue. ". Spock here."

  "It's ready, sir," said Uhura, "but Mr. Scott wants-"

  "Don' do it, sir!" Scott broke in. "That planet's in for a major quake. The cave's on a fault, and pressure at the core-"

  "Mr. Scott," Spock stepped a few paces away and lowered his voice, "please confine your speculations to the equipment for which you are responsible. Did you preset the timer?"

  "Aye, for two hours. It's locked in, an' once the sequence starts, nothin' ye can do will stop it. But leave it above ground, sir! Beam up with Saavik! If ye go back in there-"

  "It will be placed correctly, Mr. Scott, at the greatest possible depth. A surface detonation will not ensure success. And there is a survivor below who has information-"

  "Ye'll be killed, man! The quake is comin'! If ye're caught down there, ye'll not make it out alive!"

  "Must I remind you, Mr. Scott, of the gravity of our mission or the loss of life if we should fail? Beam down the device. Now. Prepare to beam Saavik aboard. And Mr. Scott, I would prefer you at the controls for both transfers."

  "Aye, Mr. Spock! We'll bring the lassie back, safe an' sound. But the rest-don't like it! I'll do it-but I don't like it!"

  "Understood, Mr. Scott. And noted. Spock out."

  A giant silvery cylinder materialized in the air. Three meters tall, one in diameter, it floated just above the ground on its built-in antigravs. Spock moved it aside.

  "Come, Saavik," he said easily, "I will follow soon." She nodded, gave no argument. She understood, which made him proud.

  She walked to him, then paused. "Mr. Spock, I would like to ask a question. How will this work? Will it blow up the cave?"

  "That is two questions, Saavikam, however." she had earned them, and she had a right to know. ". stand by, Mr. Scott, one moment more." Spock shut his communicator and began examining the mechanism's controls as he explained. "Not up, Saavikam-down. To destroy the arsenal without contaminating surrounding space. Mr. Scott has constructed a gravitational bomb, in effect a planetary depth charge. The initial firing propels a shaped antimatter charge into the planet's mantle, which then detonates with the force of one hundred photon torpedoes. Massive thermonuclear meltdown will result, causing all matter within fifty kilometers to collapse inward upon itself. The iron ores in those mountains will liquify and form a molten crust. So, you see, it will be over, Saavikam," he said gently. "The place you knew will be gone. You may observe the event fro
m the bridge, I promise. Now-"

  "And that cave is deep enough?" Saavik peered over Spock's shoulder at the device as he tilted and maneuvered it, testing its antigravs' balance. Then he knelt to examine the tapered nose containing the magnetic bottle with its antimatter charge. The arming switch and timer's display were halfway up under a latched panel, clearly marked, and already coated with a film of dust.

  "Yes," he said, testing the latch. It worked smoothly. "And time is short. You must go now, Saavikam. Please understand."

  "I do," she said, as her hand dropped to his shoulder and her fingers dug into the nerve plexus at the base of his neck.

  He crumpled; she caught him before he hit the ground.

  "I do understand-" Ye'll be killed, man. not make it out alive! "-and no more Vulcans will die here!" She laid him gently in the dust, took his tricorder from her neck and slid the strap under his head. His communicator had fallen to the ground; she retrieved it, placed it carefully in his outstretched hand.

  "I couldn't think of any other way," she said, as if he could hear. "You won't forgive me this, but you will live. Live long, Spock. Live forever!" She wiped fresh tears out of her eyes, then raised her fist to the starry sky. "Not this one!" she screamed into the wind. "You won't get him, you bastard world! I've sold my soul to see you die! And I'm coming to kill you-myself!"