Strangers from the Sky
Page 18
"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violent death and an Earth withdrawn from interstellar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
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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
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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
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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