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Strangers from the Sky

Page 36

by Margaret Wander Bonanno


  her feet and Sorahl followed suit. "If you will

  excuse us his

  They were gone as silently as T'Lera had come.

  Jim Kirk pounded the table in frustration.

  "Am Morgen. was Racher's lips did not move

  when he spoke. His voice was metal against metal

  in the cold of the unheated outbuildings at Byrd.

  "When there is sun. his

  "That's nearly twelve hours!" one of his

  followers complained; Racher had forbidden heat flares

  lest they attract attention should anyone

  chance to look out from Delphinus's conning tower.

  They'd hidden their snowmobiles behind the ancient

  glacial ridge some hundred yards distant,

  waited for dark to creep and crawl across the ice to the

  deserted complex. They had not questioned why it was

  deserted; waited now, their attention focused on the

  grim grey conning tower jutting above the ice,

  giving barely a hint of how much ship lay beneath.

  "Ja," Racher replied, unperturbed. His

  bionic eyes were infrared-equipped; through the

  starboard port he

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  could discern a human figure Jason's alone in

  the dark of the bridge, and was tempted for the briefest

  moment. But he had built his reputation as a

  terrorist upon merciless dawn attack; he would not

  change that now.

  "I want them to know who kills them. We breach

  from the conning tower." He motioned with the muzzle of his

  favorite automatic; the laser rifle was only

  to impress thugs like Easter. "And we go in.

  Search and destroy. Everyone."

  Some of the white-clad figures murmured in the

  darkness. They'd been promised hostages,

  trade-offs, reparations for their various causes,

  not a night of subzero cold and a dawn of profitless

  slaughter.

  "Everyone?" someone asked.

  'iJa." Racher's eyes glinted metallically

  in the darkness. "Everyone!"

  "You deliberately tried to corner them

  into revealing their warp-drive technology," Dehner

  said, amazed at Kirk's temerity. "What did you

  hope to accomplish?"

  Kirk shrugged. "I thought T'Lera might see

  it as a way to bargain for their lives."

  Dehner shook her head. "When will you learn?"

  "About Vulcans? Probably never." He was

  thinking about the general and all the other experts, pounding

  at T'Lera with the wrong questions. "Those idiots! They

  could have had access to warp-drive technology a

  full decade earlier if they'd gotten over their

  paranoia and his

  "What makes you think T'Lera would have told them

  any more than she told you?" Dehner asked

  quietly.

  Kirk didn't answer her. "I can't get through

  to her!" he said, amazed at himself. "I feel so so

  helpless!"

  He and Dehner were almost alone, still across the table from

  each other in the mess hall. Yoshi could be heard in

  the galley unloading the dishwasher; everyone 316

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  else was gone, somewhere in the big empty ship.

  Yoshi had replaced the Prokofiev with some Bach;

  the "Air for the G-String" matched Kirk's somber

  mood.

  "Does that surprise you?" Dehner asked

  mildly

  Kirk looked at her askance. "What that I

  can't get through to T'Lera? Or that I feel

  helpless?"

  "Either. That you as a captain without a ship, a

  leader with no one to lead, should feel helpless. Or that

  you still don't know how to talk to a Vulcan. was

  Dehner leaned across the table at him, playing the

  lovers" tete-a-tete to the hilt; she could learn

  to like this. "Or that there's at least one female in the

  galaxy who's impervious to your charm?"

  The conversation reminded Kirk too much of one

  he'd recently had with Gary.

  "Don't play doctor with me, doctor!" he

  said tightly, knowing she was right on all counts.

  "Maybe you'd like to try this yourself?"

  "Who, me?" Dehner stretched, cracked her

  knuckles, put her elbows back on the table.

  "I've got my evening cut out for me trying to find

  a way into the pharmaceuticals locker."

  Kirk gave her a puzzled look. "How's

  that?"

  "If you're serious about my having to "wipe"

  people," Dehner explained, "I'll need the proper

  drugs for the job." Kirk nodded. "Meanwhile, why

  don't you go another round with Scarlett O'Hara

  cum John Wayne?" she suggested. "You two

  seem to understand each other."

  "If we ever get out of here" Kirk was on his

  feet; he'd intended to track Melody anyway;

  was Dehner reading his mind again., "remind me I owe

  you a reprimand for insubordination."

  Definer just smiled at him.

  Melody Sawyer stood rooted to the gym floor

  in her tennis whites, repeatedly whacking a tennis

  ball off the same spot on the handball wall as

  if it were a bull's-eye,

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  or possibly the back of a Vulcan's head.

  She'd thought of working off her rage in a

  few fast sets with the robot, but she knew all its

  moves by now and was usually one step ahead of it.

  There'd never been anyone on board she couldn't beat

  one-handed.

  Whack, whack, whack! She slammed the ball

  at racquetball speeds, not needing to chase it because

  it homed to her like a boomerang. Whack, whack,

  whack! If anything, she was building tension instead of

  relieving it

  Feeling positively murderous, she

  programmed the robot for high lobs and determined

  to sweat it out.

  "Service'" she yelled, triggering the robot

  while she was still on the wrong side of the net. It

  spat out the first ball and she waited on it until

  she really had to chase it. About twenty lobs later

  she was beginning to IQ-OSEN up when she saw that she was

  not alone. She gave the solid figure in jogging

  clothes a once-over without ever slowing up.

  "Great form," Jim Kirk tried for openers.

  "Captain Nyere tells me you were on the pro

  circuit."

  "And I bet you came all the way down here just

  to tell me that, didn't you, Mr. Kirk?" she

  asked, all molasses and sarcasm and never

  missing a beat.

  "Actually, I thought I'd do some running,"

  Kirk lied, picking up a spare racket and testing

  the grip. "I thought the gym would be empty this time of

  night."

  The robot had run out of balls and Melody

  scrambled around the court retrieving them. Kirk's

  attempts to help only irritated her.

  "Listen, Buster: you want to run, go run."

  "Sure." Kirk grinned, casually lobbing the

  ball in his hand over the net and making it look

  easy.

  "You play?" Melody challenged rather than asked.

  "Well . . I'm a little rusty," Kirk said

  diffidently.

  Melody kicked the last of t
he stray balls off the

  court and threw Kirk one. "How rusty?"

  * * *

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  Yoshi was stacking the last of the clean dishes in the

  pantry and had started on the silverware when

  Elizabeth Dehner brought her coffee cup out to the

  galley.

  "I'll do this one," she told him when

  he tried to take the cup from her.

  She put it in the sink and rinsed it, awkwardly,

  too accustomed to her era's disposable, recyclable

  containers, and saw that the young man was watching her out of the

  corner of his eye, she hoped not because of her domestic

  technique.

  "What is it?" she asked when he continued to stare

  Her voice was cool, clinical, but with the right

  note of accessibility.

  Yoshi responded to it. "Can I talk to you for a

  minute, doctor?"

  They sat in the deserted mess hall and he told

  her whatever she didn't already know about him and

  Tatya, the events of the last few days, the

  Vulcans, the kelpwilt, his fears for the future.

  "Tonight Sorahl gave me this," the young man

  finished, showing Dehner the formula, sweeping his long

  hair out of his eyes in the characteristic gesture. "It's

  probably a miracle cure, and he just gives it

  to me. After I've done this jealousy trip on him and

  Tatya, after everything else. And he gives it

  to me. No "shall we share the discovery," no "what

  about patent laws," nothing. A gift. No

  strings, no applause, nothing. "We who are about

  to die salute you," or something. I'm so

  confused!"

  "We all are, Yoshi," Dehner assured him

  vaguely. How could she possibly explain

  Sorahl's behavior without explaining flow she

  knew? "That's really what this whole thing is about.

  When we don't understand something, it's natural to fear

  it."

  "I thought I understood," Yoshi said sadly.

  "In the beginning, that first night when Sorahl told

  us about his people and his world I could see it; I could feel

  it! It was this weird gut feeling that maybe I'd

  been born on

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  the wrong planet. I wanted to see the world he was

  describing a world without war or violence, a world of

  peace and order and common sense where a person can

  live and work according to his gifts. I come from a

  tradition of discipline and respect for elders and

  spiritual awareness; I would have thrived on that. The more

  Sorahl talked about Vulcan, the more I felt

  homesick for a place I've never seen. Do you

  think I'm crazy?"

  "NO," Elizabeth Dehner said sincerely,

  thinking that if they could set history right again,

  Yoshi might yet live to see this world of his dreams.

  If everything that brought Yoshi and me to this time and

  place hadn't happened, Dehner thought, suddenly

  visited with a bad case of Weltschmerz. She

  shook her head. NO, she didn't think Yoshi was

  crazy, only depressed, and justifiably so.

  "Yoshi," she asked in her best clinical

  manner, "how much would you be willing to do to get the

  Vulcans home safely? To make it possible for

  you to visit that world you envision?"

  Yoshi's eyes widened in a kind of rapture,

  which sparked and died almost as quickly as it had come. He

  shook his head sadly.

  "I lost that chance when I handed Sorahl and

  T'Lera over to Jason. And if you're asking me

  what I'd do now that it's too late I'm no kind

  of hero."

  "There are many kinds of hero, Yoshi," Dehner

  said, getting to her feet. "I need a walk. How

  well do you know the inside of this ship?"

  Yoshi grinned shyly. "About as well as the people who

  run her. Would you like a guided tour?"

  Dehner linked her arm in his. "Please."

  "Forty-love!" Melody announced a little too

  smugly. "Always suspected you peaceniks

  were cream puffs. Sure you want to go a whole

  set?"

  "Just play!" Kirk's grin was feral, masking his

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  breathlessness. He wished he hadn't been so

  ambitious at dinner. Not that it would have made much

  difference; the woman was a killer.

  "Masochists, too!" Melody's serve was a

  rocket.

  "Okay, where were we?" Kirk huffed, getting under

  the ball just in time and sending it wobbling back into a

  clear fault. With a kind of noblesse, Melody

  allowed it.

  "You were asking why an intelligent person like me

  couldn't overcome my prejudices, just walk up

  to one of the Vulcans, and "engage in dialogue,"

  is how I think you put it," she said, sending him

  running again. "Is that what happens when you sleep

  with a shrink? You start talking like one?"

  "Maybe," Kirk gritted, feeling his racket

  scrape the flooring as he volleyed back, lost his

  balance, and slammed into the far wall. If she got

  this point, she wouldn't get it easily. "Well,

  why don't you?"

  "Because" Melody got the point, easily

  "somebody has to keep a clear head until this

  thing settles out."

  Kirk rubbed his shoulder and went to chase the ball.

  "I don't understand what that means."

  Melody bounced on her toes and laughed

  humor-lessly. "You know, Kirk, I'm

  beginning to believe you are a pacifist after all. No

  one else would be so naive. Haven't you figured out

  what happens next? Or do you really believe those

  people will be allowed to go home?"

  He couldn't answer for several moments, needed

  all his wind to keep the ball in play. By the time he

  could draw breath the score was thirty-love.

  "All right." He mustered the last of his charm.

  "Indulge my naivete. What happens next?"

  "The United Earth Council is going to decide

  that these people don't exist," Melody explained.

  "Then it's up to Aeroationav to "disappear" them,

  and Jason gets the tag." She whacked the ball.

  Kirk got under it and 321

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  whacked it back, barely. "And if you think that

  big old sortie is going to be able to train a

  weapon on these people and march them into

  exile" whack "or, worse by his standards,

  cleaner by mine, pull the trigger on them, you are

  grossly mistaken."

  To his surprise, Kirk actually saw an

  opening and scored his first point in a game and a half.

  "You, then?"

  "Damn straight!" Melody shot back.

  Whack!

  "And that's why you're keeping your distance," Kirk

  countered. Whack! "The good soldier. Just doing her

  duty. Like the Gestapo, and Colonel Green's

  troops. Just obeying orders. As long as they aren't

  human his

  "They aren't!" Melody yelled. Whack!

  "Nothing you say is going to make them human! And

  don't give me that "good soldier" crap,

  Kirk!
You civilians always think It's black and

  white!"

  "Oh, no!" Kirk assured her with what little

  wind he had left. If she only knew! "I know

  exactly how many shades of grey there are in any

  command decision, believe me."

  That point made them thirty-even. Melody

  stopped play and came up to the net, ferocious.

  "I don't know why I'm telling you this,

  Kirk. Maybe it's because I won't give your

  shrink friend the professional satisfaction, and there's

  no one else aboard this tub I can talk to. But

  aside from all that soapbox stuff I gave you at

  dinner and don't get me wrong; I meant every word of

  it there's one little thing I won't even tell

  Jason, and that is that whatever I end up doing over

  the next few days I'll do because of him, even if

  he hates me for it."

  She was back in play without warning, and Kirk was

  recovered enough to chase whatever she belted at him.

  "I love that man like a brother!" Melody

  Sawyer stated. Whack! "He took me on when

  I was

  nothing but a loudmouth maverick, insubordinate

  to the death, transferred off nearly every ship in the

  fleet and just this side of a dishonorable discharge, and he

  stayed 322

  STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

  with me. Turned me into something resembling an

  officer, and maybe even a gentleman." Whack!

  "I have worked beside him for fifteen years. I know

  him better than I know my own husband."

  Whack! "I've held his head when he was sick,

  and he's held my hand when I damn near

  died. He's not only my CO, he's my best

  friend, and I've watched him bleeding for these Vulcans

  from the outset."

  With a final murderous flourish she punished the

  ball across the net and Kirk didn't bother to go after

  it. He conceded the game with a gesture and collapsed

  in a corner, nursing a stitch in his side.

  Melody wasn't even winded.

  "Paint me the villain of the piece, Kirk; it

  doesn't matter was She was all but attacking him.

  "History won't get it straight anyway.

  I'll do whatever I can to spare Jason Nyere

  whatever agony I can, if it means I have to pull the

  trigger myself."

  "I hear you!" Kirk wheezed, thinking of himself and

  Gary and the parameters of friendship. "But it doesn't

  have to go that way if his

  "That's a girl's set," Melody cut him

  off. "Or do you want to go three out of five like a

  man?"

  He would have gone the full set if it killed him,

 

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