Star Trek - NF - 12 - Being Human

by Being Human(lit)

  "Why?" It was Kebron who had spoken.

  She looked at him, clearly finding him to be the most curious-looking of the motley assortment before her. "Why what, large one?"

  "Why do you care? About us? About this golden age? What... is in it for you?" he said.

  Artemis appeared dismayed that he even had to ask. "Why... is it not evident?"

  "Not readily," admitted Calhoun.

  She slapped her hands on the table in dismay. "Is chivalry completely dead in your society? Is charity, loving-kindness, truly a thing of the past? We wish to help you... because we care about humanity. We were there, after all, for when it made its first forays into cul-

  ture... the arts... theater... elevated thought. Those things occurred largely because we were there to facili-tate it. Think what could be achieved now!"

  "As others have noted," Calhoun said, "there's no one in this room who is actually a human being with the ex-ception of Lieutenant McHenry..."

  "Jury is still out on that," mumbled Kebron.

  Calhoun ignored the comment and continued, "... and all of our races-Xenexians, Vulcans, Brikars, Hermats-we all managed to reach the same levels of 'civilization' as humanity achieved without the help of such elevated and lofty beings as yourselves."

  And Artemis leaned forward, fixing her devastating eyes upon Calhoun, and she said very softly, "Are you quite certain of that? Would you be willing to bet your life on that assumption? Because you might be surprised at the outcome."

  Calhoun could think of nothing to say to that. He found that lack of response disturbing.

  "We wish to help," continued Artemis, "because that is what we do. We are an altruistic race. We have seen how far the Federation has come... but we also are able to perceive that you have all come just so far, but will be able to proceed no further. You have leveled off, as it were. Reached a sort of evolutionary plateau in your collective development as a species, as a society. We are prepared to help you now to reach the next level. I do not pretend," she laughed, "that you will be able to reach our level. The level of a race so advanced that-"

  "That your most famous member committed suicide since he lacked adulation from others," Kebron said.

  Calhoun felt it again... that same dangerous sizzling in the air, as if power were being forcibly contained, lest it lash out in all directions. Like a gathering storm, Artemis turned and looked at Kebron.

  "If you say another insulting word about my brother," she said, in a voice flat and devoid of emotion, "I will hurt you. I will hurt you more than you thought possi-ble. I will hurt you in ways you cannot imagine. And if you should ever have a loved one... I will hurt her. Children? I will hurt them. Their children? They will be hurt as well. Insult Apollo, and on your deathbed you will look back to this moment to consider the day that you single-handedly brought a curse down upon your house. Consider your next observation wisely, Brikar, for the well-being of those not yet born who will bear your name hinges upon it."

  Kebron said nothing.

  "You are wise beyond your years," Artemis in-formed him.

  Calhoun sensed the energy buildup subsiding, but was still not pleased about what had just occurred. "I do not appreciate having my officers threatened," he said.

  "Then tell them they would be well-advised to con-sider their words carefully when addressing the Be-ings," she said. She looked around the table at them with an attitude of pure smug superiority. "In some ways, Captain, we have grown closer, your species and I. Early humanity-primitive by any standards-could only frame us as gods in their minds. Since science was a barely spawned discipline, there were no scien-tific means to explain us. We were, to them, beings of magic: inexplicable, incompre-hensible. Now, though, you have a closer understanding of who and what we are. That is acceptable as far as it goes. But there is the old saying, Captain, that a little knowledge is a danger-ous thing. Do not for a moment think that, because you know us better, you know us completely. Do not allow familiarity to breed contempt, for I assure you that if you act in a manner with me and my kin that is overfa-miliar, it will instead breed disaster. Considering what we are capable of offering you, that would be most un-fortunate."

  "Artemis," said McHenry, "this is ridiculous. How can you possibly think to bring about this 'golden age' you keep talking about? We meet about it for the first time and already you're threatening people. You're threatening my friends."

  "I was your friend before any of these people knew you, Marcus," she reminded him, her eyes flashing. "They insulted me. Certainly that must count for something." Then she touched him once more on the shoulder, and he jumped slightly as if there was elec-tricity in her fingertips. "As for how the golden age will come about, have you forgotten? That will be your job. To act as intermediary on our behalf, to set the stage for us. You will be our avatar, our standard-bearer, our herald. You will be the angel of light who will guide your people through the night to the new dawn."

  "Very high-flown and impressive words," Calhoun said. "So tell me, Mr. McHenry: Are you accepting this offer? Apparently you've had some time to dwell on it: since before Starfleet Academy, if we're to believe Artemis. Is that what you want to do with the rest of your life? Serve as spokesman for the Beings?"

  All eyes were now upon McHenry. He actually seemed to be squirming in his seat, and Calhoun couldn't help but feel sorry for him. McHenry was al-ways so laid-back, so comfortable, so uncaring about pressures that were heaped upon him. It was as if he went through life completely unfazed by anything that might be tossed at him. It was depressing to see him now, coming across as... as...

  Mortal. The word came unbidden to Calhoun's thoughts. That was it, really. He seemed "merely" mor-tal in his concerns, in his discomfort.

  Artemis seemed most interested of all in what he was going to say next. She waited expectantly, one eyebrow cocked.

  "I... think I'll have to get back to you on that, Cap-tain," McHenry finally said. He looked at Artemis. "To both of you."

  Calhoun watched her reaction very carefully. She seemed to be wrestling with a response that would be a less than polite one... even a dangerous one. But then Artemis took control of herself, smiled, and said, "Very well, Marcus. I will respect your wishes. Take all the time you need..."

  "Thank you..."

  "... before deciding that you will do our bidding."

  And with that, Artemis turned and walked right through the bulkhead. She didn't damage it in any way; she just passed through it as if it wasn't there.

  "Somehow," Burgoyne ventured, "I don't think she quite comprehended the subtlety of 'I'll get back to you.'"

  ii.

  McHenry had never felt more miserable in his entire life. And somehow, he had known it would be coining.

  He lay stretched out on a med table, in the process of being examined by every medical scanner known to Federation science. Med techs were hovering over him like embers dancing around the top of a fire, moving with remarkable grace and coordination so as not to bang into each other going about their business.

  The thing that was most upsetting to McHenry was that none of them were looking at him. At least, none of them were looking him in the eyes. Every so often he would say something that he really thought sounded at least halfway amusing. His response would be grunts or a strained smile or-if someone was feeling truly ex-pansive-a "Really?" or "How interesting!"

  But he knew. He knew what it was.

  They were afraid of him.

  On one level, he could understand it. These people had served with him and, all this time, had thought him one thing. Now they were having to consider him some-thing else, and the big problem was that they didn't know what that "something else" was. The unknown had replaced the known quantity. They had no idea what he was capable of, and those aspects of his personality,

  which had once been looked upon as.simple quirks or curiosities, were now considered to be, possibly, some-thing deeper and more dangerous. As a result they han-dled him as if he was a time
bomb or grenade, capable of going off at any moment and causing all manner of damage.

  On another level, though... it hurt. He knew it shouldn't, but it did. After all, if they were just meeting him for the first time, there would be no concern on their part. He would be simply another life-form, another being, and certainly as med techs in Starfleet they had encountered all kinds in all different places. The fact that they were familiar with him should have put them more at their ease, not less. He was, in effect, being pe-nalized for being their friend, coworker, and crewmate. No matter how much he dwelt on it, he couldn't make it feel right in his head.

  He craned his neck around and saw that Captain Cal-houn, Soleta, and Selar were in conference in Selar's of-fice. He knew that either he or Artemis or both were the subject of discussion, and it irked him more than he could say. McHenry was not someone who customarily felt annoyed. His entire approach to life was always ex-tremely relaxed. It took a lot to upset him or put him out of sorts, and since he was unaccustomed to it, he wasn't sure how to handle such roiling emotions once he reached that point.

  So he went with his instinct.

  McHenry abruptly sat up, startling one of the med techs who had been leaning close to him, trying to get some new damned readings or another. Dr. Maxwell,

  Pefer David

  who had been overseeing the study, said patiently, "Lieu-tenant... this will go much more smoothly if you're lying down..."

  "Get out of my way," said McHenry, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. He stared with quiet de-fiance into Maxwell's eyes.

  All the med techs looked at one another uneasily. Maxwell appeared to be frozen to the spot. Then he forced a ready smile and said, "All right," and stepped aside.

  They were afraid of him.

  Damn, they were afraid. It was a feeling that was both depressing and liberating all at the same time, because McHenry didn't know what to do... but also knew that whatever he did choose to do, he could do with impunity.

  He stepped down onto the floor and started across sickbay. It seemed as if the entirety of sickbay had been devoted to studying him, for everyone was looking at readings and output from the tests they'd been conduct-ing. "Here I am, in the flesh," he said. He spread his arms to either side and turned slowly, so they could all get a good look at him. "On display for all to see. Why study readouts and reports when you can get the real thing?"

  "McHenry!"

  It was Calhoun, standing in the doorway of Selar's of-fice. The two Vulcans were standing directly behind him. "McHenry... you said you would cooperate with the examinations," he reminded him.

  "I changed my mind, Captain," he said, sounding al-most giddy. "We demigods can do that, y'know. We put the 'mercury' in 'mercurial.' "

  He didn't know what Calhoun was going to say. Whether the captain would shout at him or endeavor to shove him into the brig or what. But he was astounded to see that Calhoun's expression softened into some-thing akin to understanding. "All right, son," he said, and instantly McHenry knew that he wasn't talking in the same "I'll do what you want, just don't hurt me" manner that Maxwell had been speaking with. He really seemed as if he was sympathetic to what McHenry was going through... which was fortunate, since Mc-Henry's thoughts were in such turmoil that he was hav-ing trouble comprehending it all himself. "If you say it's over, it's over. Come in here. We have some things to discuss with you anyway."

  McHenry sagged with visible relief, and walked into Selar's office. The clear door slid shut behind them, giv-ing them privacy. There were only two chairs facing Selar's desk, but Calhoun gestured to McHenry that he should occupy the one that Calhoun had been sitting in. "Captain, no... protocol requires..."

  "Screw protocol," Calhoun said amiably. "Something tells me you need it more than I do."

  "True enough," admitted McHenry, and he sat. He could see that all the med techs out in sickbay were star-ing into the office... until Selar fired them a look that immediately sent them back to other duties.

  "The first thing you have to realize, Mark... is that you've done nothing wrong," Calhoun said. He had folded his arms and was leaning against the wall of Selar's office. "We know now that you were not respon-sible for the assault on the bridge crew. The only thing

  you're guilty of is changing course without authoriza-tion. Considering the stress of the moment and the par-ticular personal circumstances involved, I think we can let that one slide."

  "Thank you, Captain," he said gratefully.

  "What we've been discussing now is your friend, Artemis-"

  " 'Friend' might be too strong a word."

  "Were you her lover?" inquired Soleta. She asked the question with such deadpan detachment that it was im-possible to perceive any prurient interest to the ques-tion. She could not have been more dispassionate if she'd informed McHenry that he could probably use a haircut.

  McHenry drummed his hands uncomfortably on the armrest. "Only in the sense that we had sex..." he said.

  "I see," Dr. Selar now spoke up. "So 'friend' might be too strong a word; however, 'passing acquaintance' would appear to understate the relationship."

  "All right, that's enough," said Calhoun, obviously seeing McHenry's discomfort. "The thing upon which we can all agree is that McHenry has a vested interest in this. I think we owe it to him to tell him what we've found."

  "Before you tell me that... tell me... about me," McHenry said slowly.

  Selar leveled her gaze upon him. "You mean... are you human?"

  "Basically, yes."

  "Don't you know?" asked Soleta.

  He felt as if he were shrinking into the chair. "I don't

  know," he admitted. "I'm not sure, I know anything anymore."

  Selar was studying her computer screen, assessing what he could only assume to be the test results that had been compiled about him. "You are being ridiculous, Lieutenant," she said with the utter lack of bedside man-ner for which she had become so well known. "Of course you are human. Like any Starfleet officer, you have been subjected to numerous physicals. Do you think for even a moment that if you were not human, Starfleet would have somehow missed it?"

  "All right. But then why the head-to-toe, inside-out study now?"

  "To see if Starfleet somehow missed it," Calhoun

  told him.

  Selar didn't look any too pleased with the captain's explanation. "To see," she said with forced patience, "if your current physical makeup is consistent with previ-ous examinations. To see if she altered or affected you in some way. Thus far, according to these results- which would be more complete if you had been good enough to remain where you are," she added pointedly, "according to these, the answer would seem to be no. You remain, Lieutenant, a rather unremarkable speci-men."

  McHenry let out a sigh of relief so pronounced that he looked as if he were deflating. "That is so good to know," he said. "I... I don't know what I would have done if I'd found out I wasn't... you know... human."

  "Yes, how ever would one cope with the tragic status

  of not being human," Selar said in a tone of voice so lac-erating that McHenry could practically feel the skin being peeled from his body. "I certainly know my life is the emptier for it."

  "Sarcasm is hardly necessary, Doctor," Soleta said. "I understand what McHenry is saying. It would be as if one had thought for a time that one was Vulcan... and then discovered oneself to be part Romulan. Certainly such a self-discovery would be disorienting, to say the least... correct?"

  Selar's lips thinned in response to Soleta's comment. She seemed rather irked by it, although McHenry couldn't discern why. Then she said coolly, "Point taken, Soleta. My... apologies if I seemed unsympa-thetic, Mr. McHenry."

  " 'S all right," he assured her. "If you started seeming sympathetic about things, they'd probably be doing a thorough exam on you to make sure you were still you."

  It was hard for McHenry to be sure, but it looked as if Calhoun was endeavoring to stifle a laugh. But it hap-pened so fleetingly that he couldn
't be sure, and then Calhoun said-all business-"What we find curious are the differences in terms of power level between Artemis and Apollo. Soleta-?" he prompted her.

  "According to the Enterprise logs," Soleta readily continued, "Apollo's physiology was actually remark-ably humanoid... something that should not be too surprising, I suppose, when one considers that he was able to crossbreed with a human. However, the CMO's records stated that Apollo had some sort of extra organ in his chest... one that enabled him to channel energy

  through himself and provide the illusion of godlike powers. He was able to throw bolts of energy, to grow to gargantuan size. But he required a power source... one that, in the case of the incident on Pollux IV, he dis-guised as a temple or shrine. Once the Enterprise de-stroyed the power source, Apollo became effectively helpless... although, curiously, he was able to still at-tain giant size. So he obviously possessed some sort of abilities beyond those provided him by the power