STAR TREK: TOS #11 - The Yesterday Saga I - Yesterday's Son

by A. C. Crispin

  “I don’t think he’ll struggle when he sees our faces.” McCoy said, thoughtfully running his medical scanner. “I think he was frightened by our face shields—God knows that if you didn’t know what they were, you’d think they were our real features.” He turned his head, addressed the Vulcan. “He should’ve come around by now, Spock. Did you do anything to account for this prolonged unconsciousness?”

  The First Officer shook his head as he approached. He stood over them, not too near, looking down at the younger man.

  “Of course, the struggle may have affected him—he’s malnourished. Jim walloped him good a couple of times, too. ...” McCoy glanced at the Vulcan’s stony lack of expression, and continued under his breath, “Actually, you should be grateful he’s alive, and old enough to take care of himself. ... If I remember, you don’t relate very well to infants.” He ran the scanner again, then nodded. “He’s coming around now.”

  The leather-clad figure stirred and moaned. The eyes opened. Gray, wide with fear, then calming as they slowly took in McCoy’s friendly blue eyes and dark hair, Kirk’s regular features and smile. They traveled upward, glanced at Spock, whose features were shadowed by the hood of his therm-suit, and returned to the two in front of him. The young man [53] sat up a bit unsteadily, rubbing his neck. The eyes were wide now with questions.

  The Captain glanced at his First Officer, still silent and removed, then wryly assumed his best visiting-diplomat manner. “Sorry we didn’t get off to a better start. We should’ve remembered how our face masks would look to someone who hadn’t seen them before. You must be Zarabeth’s son.”

  The younger man nodded, obviously startled, then said haltingly, in the tones of one who has talked only to himself for a long time. “Yes ... I am Zarabeth’s son. I’m Zar.” Then gathering speed, “Who are you? Were you looking for me? Where did you come from?” His voice was pleasant, not as deep as Spock’s, his speech precise.

  “I’m Captain Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. My Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Leonard McCoy.” The Captain gestured at the Doctor, who smiled. The gray eyes moved across the cave, fixed on the Vulcan, as Kirk hesitated. “And my First Officer, Mr. Spock.”

  Still watching Spock intently, Zar got slowly to his feet, as McCoy put a hand out to steady him. The Doctor’s voice was gentle. “Where’s Zarabeth?”

  His gaze never left Spock as the young man answered absently, though not without pain, “She ... is dead. Killed when she fell into a crevasse in the ice, seven summers past.” Slowly, as though Kirk and McCoy were no longer present, he walked between them and halted in front of the Vulcan.

  Their eyes were on a level as Zar said quietly, “Spock ... First Officer of the Enterprise ... my father.” A flat statement, hanging in the stillness.

  Spock drew a long breath. “Yes.”

  It was startling to see a grin spread over the younger man’s expressionless features, a look of such genuine warmth and happiness that the Humans found themselves smiling too. Zar’s clenched fists relaxed, and for a moment Kirk worried that he might throw his arms around the Vulcan, but something in that remote figure, hands clasped behind his back, seemed [54] to deter him. “I’m glad you’ve come, sir,” he said simply. It was the most sincere statement the Captain had ever heard. The incredible smile was still on the bearded countenance as he turned back to the Humans. “I am glad you’re here, too. Did all of you come here to find me?”

  “Yes, we’ve been searching for four days, now.” Kirk said.

  “How did you get here? My mother told me many times about the two men who came from the future, but she said that the world was going to blow up—the atavachron must’ve been destroyed, too.”

  “We used another method of finding you. A time portal called the Guardian of Forever. You’re right about the destruction. In our present, this planet no longer exists.” the Captain explained.

  The younger man nodded as he pushed long hair out of his eyes and tightened the leather thong at the back of his neck. Pulling his tunic across his chest, he began relacing it. “I followed you,” he said, without looking up. “I didn’t know who you were, I didn’t even suspect. I thought you were aliens from another time, or another world. ... I didn’t even realize you were people. Then you trapped me when I tried to make you go away.”

  McCoy grinned ruefully. “That was a mistake, all right. You sure can fight, son. Were you watching us long?”

  “Since last night. I was over-mountain, hunting, and I saw you just when it was dark. I tried to attack your camp last night, but there was a pain in my head, and I couldn’t approach.”

  “The sonic distort,” Kirk told him. “So that explains why we all kept thinking we were being watched! I was afraid this planet of yours was affecting our minds.”

  Zar nodded thoughtfully, then remembered long-forgotten niceties, “Are you thirsty? I can bring some water. Or, if you’re hungry, I have meat salted in the next chamber. And there’s the kill outside, fresh.”

  [55] “Thanks, but we’ve got rations with us.” Kirk sat down on the floor, opening his kit, and took out four packets. Zar sat down cross-legged, broke his packet open, and sniffed it cautiously. Apparently reassured, he wolfed the wafer with dispatch. A real paradox, the Captain thought, watching him lick the crumbs out of the packet. He speaks like the well-bred product of a modern family, but his appearance and actions are those of a primitive. He dug another wafer out of his kit, offered it to the younger man, who was trying not to eye it wistfully. “We’ve got plenty, Zar. Go ahead.”

  When McCoy handed him the third wafer, Zar hesitated before taking it, searching his memory. “Thank you.” The last concentrate went down slowly, but completely. The hunter licked his fingers clean, neatly and efficiently, and sighed contentedly. “That was good. Like the things my mother had to eat when I was small.”

  “How old are you?” McCoy asked.

  “I have twenty-five summers. Very soon it will be twenty-six.”

  “Then you’ve been alone here since you were nineteen?” Kirk asked.

  “Yes.”

  The Captain shook his head. “Seven years is a long time to be alone.”

  The gray eyes were steady. “I didn’t think about it much. It doesn’t make sense to waste thought and time on a situation that can’t be changed.”

  McCoy blinked. “Sounds like someone else I know,” he mumbled.

  Kirk looked at the entrance to the cave, where the shadows were lengthening. “Getting late. We’ll have to be leaving soon.”

  “How will you return? There is no Guardian here.”

  “We don’t know exactly how it works,” Kirk said, “but the Guardian seems to sense when a mission is accomplished. When all of us are ready, we’ll take [56] a step, together, and—there we are. Back in our own time.”

  “I wish I could see your time. I’ve looked at the stars many nights, and thought how I would like to see them—visit them.” Zar glanced diffidently at Spock. “I think it’s in my blood—this wanting.”

  Evidently it hasn’t occurred to him that he’ll be going back with us, thought McCoy, waiting for the Vulcan to clear up the misunderstanding. When Spock remained silent, the Doctor said, “When we leave, son, you’re going with us. That was our whole reason for coming here.”

  The gray eyes widened in surprise, then the smile flashed again, and he turned to Spock. “You’re taking me with you? To the starship, and the wonders my mother told me about?”

  The First Officer nodded silently.

  “And there’s always plenty to eat?”

  Momentarily startled, the Captain realized that food must indeed be one of the most important things in the world to one who struggled for every meal. He hastened to reassure him. “Yes, there’s always plenty to eat—too much, sometimes,” with a rueful glance at McCoy.

  Still watching Spock, Zar sobered. “You came here, searched for me, though you didn’t know me. ... I’m grateful ... Father. ...”

  The Vu
lcan didn’t move, but Kirk had the distinct impression that he’d winced. Spock looked away, his expression remote. “I didn’t return before because I was unaware you—existed. It was a matter of family duty and loyalty.”

  “How did you find out that I ... had been born?”

  “I saw an archeologist’s photo of your paintings on the cave wall. There was no other logical explanation for the racial characteristics.” Absently, the Vulcan pushed back his hood.

  The younger man studied Spock’s features in the dim light. After a long moment, he mused, “I’d look at myself in my mother’s mirror, sometimes, but it [57] was small. So when I had fifteen summers, I painted my face on the cave wall, along with my hunting pictures. And, after she died, I talked to the face on the wall, sometimes. Now it’s like looking at the wall again ... Father. ...”

  “I would prefer that you address me by my name.” Spock said stiffly. “I find the appellation ‘father’ inappropriate when used by a stranger.”

  The gray eyes were momentarily confused, then all animation drained from Zar’s features, until they mirrored the Vulcan’s stony ones. “As you wish, sir.” Scrambling to his feet, he caught up his fur cloak, and left the cave.

  There was a bitten-off expletive and a glare from McCoy, then the Doctor followed the younger man. Kirk was embarrassed, realizing that any comment on his part would be construed as interference. “I’ll hurry Bones up,” he said finally, and headed for the cave’s entrance.

  The Captain found Zar kneeling beside the body of a large horned animal, that he’d evidently dragged over the ice with a leather harness. Kirk stood beside the Doctor, watching, as the younger man took a fine-honed knife and began to skin the gutted carcass efficiently.

  “How’d you get this?” Kirk asked, noting the absence of weapons, except for the knife.

  “With this.” Zar jerked his head at three round stones bound together with twisted thongs. “My mother made them—she read the idea in a book we had.”

  “A bola—” Kirk picked up the weapon, hefted and swung it experimentally. “Must take practice to bring down game with something like this. Is this how you got all your meat?”

  “No, sometimes I use snares, or traps with rocks and bait.”

  “Why not a bow and arrow?” McCoy wanted to know.

  The hunter sat back on his heels and waved a gory [58] hand at the valley. “They require wood, and there aren’t any trees within five days journey of here, which is the farthest I’ve explored.” He returned to his task.

  “We’ve got to leave, soon, and I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to take that meat with you.” Kirk said, glancing at McCoy.

  Zar stopped, then stood up slowly. “I didn’t think—you’re right of course, Captain.” He wiped the blade on the animal’s flank, sheathed it methodically. “It seems wasteful to leave it, though.”

  Silently, the three began gathering up the camping gear that was strewn outside the cave.

  Inside, Spock stood alone, looking at the paintings. The colors were brighter than in the photos. He was confused, and felt irritation—directed at himself. The entire situation was disquieting—highly implausible. He was too young to have offspring “25 summers” old. The Vulcan’s gaze traveled around the rocky chamber, and he saw several haunches of meat hanging in the corner. His stomach tightened, and he told himself that his reaction was illogical. Of course Zar ate meat—Zarabeth’s supplies must be exhausted by now.

  His eyes fell on the bed-place, spread with furs. He had a sudden, vivid memory of her—her mouth beneath his ... her skin, warm and smooth ... the soft little cries she made as he—Spock shook his head violently, shutting out images of an incident he hadn’t acknowledged since it happened.

  But it did happen—it’s illogical to deny it. The proof is right outside. Spock realized that the cave was stiflingly hot, and that he was sweating.

  Voices broke into his thoughts, and he turned to see the others. “We’re ready to go,” Kirk said, then addressed Zar. “Anything you want to take with you?”

  The young man’s gaze traveled slowly around the cave. “Just my books and weapons. I’ll get them.”

  He returned in a few minutes with a hide-wrapped [59] bundle. “Ready?” Kirk asked, when Zar glanced around again, then hesitated.

  “What is it, son?” McCoy’s voice was gentle, as he imagined what it must feel like to leave the only home you’d ever known for an uncertain future—with a pointy-eared calculator who called you “stranger.”

  “It’s just that I don’t like the thought of leaving her ... alone.”

  Kirk’s brow furrowed. “Her? You mean your mother? I thought you said she fell into an ice crevasse.”

  “Yes. I climbed down as soon as I could, but ... all I could do was retrieve her ... body. The ground is too hard to dig, and there’s no wood for a fire ... I placed her in a cave under the ice sheet.”

  Kirk thought for a second. “You’d cremate the body if you could?” he asked, finally.

  The younger man didn’t meet his eyes, but nodded slowly.

  “Well, we have our phasers, we can do that. Where is she?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  There was a winding passage at the back of the cave. After the first few steps, the darkness was total, but their guide led them with the ease of one who’d traveled the way often. Kirk was conscious of McCoy behind him, nearly treading on his heels, and couldn’t blame the Doctor. To be lost in this labyrinth ... Far behind him, he could hear another set of footfalls echoing.

  There was a faint blue-green glow ahead of him, and his light-starved eyes seized on it greedily. The light grew stronger, and finally they stepped out of the passage into an area lit faintly by that watery glow. Kirk heard McCoy’s indrawn breath.

  The cavern was large, with irregular rocky walls. In the center of the chamber, light filtered rosy from a glimpse of sky high overhead that was touched by Beta Niobe’s setting rays. The rest of the cavern was [60] shadowed by the thickness of the surrounding ice sheet, and the Captain could barely make out the thin glaze of ice that covered the walls and floor. The place was filled with a terrible, still cold. Kirk’s eyes were drawn to a small raised platform in the center.

  She lay on one large fur robe, covered by another. Her hands were clasped together on her breast, and her eyes were closed. In the soft light, the frozen features bore a flush that mimicked life.

  “Just as I remember her.” McCoy’s voice came softly from beside him. Kirk shivered, caught in the spell cast by that still face.

  “She looks as if she could be awakened, if only ...” the Captain’s whisper trailed off. There was a rustle behind him, and he knew that Spock stood there, in the mouth of the tunnel. He resisted the urge to turn and look at the Vulcan.

  Zar moved forward, and hesitated beside the platform for a long moment, loose hair hiding his features as he looked down at Zarabeth’s body. Then the grimy fingers touched the frozen cheek gently, and he stepped back and stood waiting.

  Kirk drew his phaser, hesitated. It seemed inhuman to vaporize the body without a word. He touched McCoy’s arm, and the two of them walked over until they could look down at her. The Captain cleared his throat. “To whatever Being, Belief, or Ideal this person may have held in reverence, I commend her physical body.” He paused. “I’m sure her spirit was welcomed long ago.” Eyes stinging, he finished quietly, “I wish I had known her.”

  McCoy stirred. “She was a very courageous and beautiful woman.”

  There was a long silence. Kirk had released the safety and was about to fire his phaser when Spock’s voice came out of the shadows. “She was all the warmth in this world.” The Vulcan moved forward, phaser in hand. As Kirk and McCoy stepped back, he sighted carefully and fired. Platform and body glowed, expanding in a burst of incandescent glory. [61] For a moment Zarabeth was outlined by a white fire, then the cavern was empty save for the living.

  Spock dropped his arm and stood quietly as they f
iled past him to the mouth of the tunnel. Kirk thought he’d never seen him look so Vulcan—then he saw the eyes.

  Chapter VII

  Zar stood, legs braced against the whip of the wind, gazing up at the Guardian and the stars above it, bright, unwinking, and close. Watching him, Kirk remembered his own first sight of alien stars—the awe, tightness in the gut, a shivery joy—and smiled. The younger man hesitantly touched the time portal, and looked at the central portion, which was clear. As Kirk and McCoy joined him, he turned to them.

  “How does it work, Captain?”

  Kirk looked rueful. “A good question, with no answer. Some of the best minds in the Federation have studied it, and they can’t agree. Ask Spock, he may have a theory. He was one of the ones selected to study it.”

  The bearded face frowned thoughtfully. “When I touched it, I sensed life—but not like any I ever felt before.” He hesitated. “It ... communicated. ...” He shook his head, the frown deepening. “I can’t explain it.”

  Kirk’s eyes widened, “What do you mean, you—” He trailed off at Zar’s emphatic headshake. They were interrupted suddenly by a now-familiar hail.

  “Hey!” Doctor Vargas trotted into view. “You came back quicker than I—” she broke off, as she noticed the fourth member of their party. “You were successful!” Facing Zar, she looked up at him. “Greetings. I was expecting someone ... younger.”

  Obviously confused, the younger man glanced at Spock, who stepped forward. “Doctor Vargas, this [63] is Zar. We arrived at a later time period than we’d wished, and discovered an adult instead of the child we had anticipated. Zar, this is Doctor Vargas, head of the expedition that studies the time portal.”

  Shyly, the young man nodded a greeting. Vargas’ gaze traveled over his clothing, obviously fascinated. “I’d like to talk to you before you leave, if you have the time. I’ve never seen leather clothing before that wasn’t rotted with age in some ancient tomb. It’s a wonderful opportunity for me to speak with someone who lived the way our ancestors did. Did you use gut for sewing? How did you tan the skins?”