DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and
Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are
copyright (c) 2012 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Clean Slate
by Djinn
The
wind on AlzaraÕs fifth moon whipped and whistled,
blowing sand around the enclosure, stinging grit flying in KirkÕs face until
they got into the nondescript building his guide pointed out to him.
ÒFollow
me. The biochem
types are down this wing.Ó His
guide, a middleman named Trevaling, hurried past a
corridor designated engineering and another noted as info tech, then finally
turned, brushing sand out of his hair as he walked. ÒI hate this damn planet. If the slaves
werenÕt so exceptional, IÕd never do business here.Ó He smiled at Kirk, and it was a
predatory expression. ÒA pure mind
wipe is easy. But to be able to
tailor it, wipe the parts that establish personal memories but keep the
skills—well, for a man of your wealth, itÕs nothing to buy that, but for
most people...Ó
Kirk
nodded tightly. Starfleet had spent
no little effort establishing his bona fides as a very wealthy man in search of
certain types of experts for his business empire and his new undertaking in biochem research.
ÒHere
we are. Doctors,
biologists, chemists. Take
your pick.Ó
Kirk
walked down the aisle slowly.
Inside each small cell was a desk and chair, a cot, a screened off area
he presumed was the bathroom, and a person sitting working. On the wall next to the forcefield that kept the person inside was an inventory of
the personÕs skills.
He
had five names and faces memorized with a list of skills. All Starfleet officers taken from
various science conferences, but there was one person in particular that he
cared about. His
deputy CMO. Chapel.
And
there she was. Sitting at the desk,
glancing over at him and Trevaling. Her face was a blank mask, and Kirk
stopped and forced himself not to show any recognition as he moved to her
credential padd.
ÒHmmm.Ó He pulled his own padd out from the
pocket of his cloak, made some notes on it as any potential buyer would, then moved on. He
found the rest of the officers further down the line. Made more notes. Then kept going,
seeing if there was anyone else who looked at all familiar. He found a few more, made some notes.
ÒLook,
Trevaling, IÕll be straight with you. IÕm starting a new product line and I
need a lot of science types. Ten—these
ten—seem perfectly suited.Ó
He handed him the padd, waited for Trevaling
to copy the info to his datastick, then took back his
padd and shoved it in his cloak pocket.
ÒI know what theyÕre worth and I want to pay less. You get them for me
for seventy kreen, and IÕll see that ten kreen find their way to your account.Ó
TrevalingÕs eyes widened. The commission he was going to get from
the seller was huge anyway, and Kirk knew with the incentive from him, heÕd
bargain well.
HeÕd
get Chapel, the five other recent abductees, and four others whose names and
faces heÕd seen on past AWOL lists.
He couldnÕt help everyone in this place, but heÕd do what he could.
And
Starfleet would take care of the rest once he got out with this first batch and
the schematics of the compound downloading into his padd as they moved around. Starfleet intelligence had found the
location, and the Enterprise had been
in the best position to go in and extricate the first batch—the fact that
Kirk knew one of the people was a bonus.
It
hadnÕt hurt that heÕd just stopped VÕger—how
hard would shutting down a slaving operation be?
ÒHow
do they do it?Ó he asked Trevaling. ÒWipe their memory so selectively?Ó
Trevaling leaned in.
ÒSomething like those mind melds the Vulcans are so famous for is my
guess. But they donÕt say. Trade secret and all that.Ó He smiled. ÒLet me go secure you your
scientists. Would you like to wait
here?Ó
Yes,
he wanted to wait here—to talk to Chris—more than anything. That had been the part heÕd left out
when heÕd worked out the plan with Starfleet, with Spock who was waiting just
out of sensor range in the ship, with Bones who had worked up the disguise to
make him look less human. He hadnÕt
told any of them that she wasnÕt just Chapel to him, a doctor on his crew. SheÕd been his lover on Earth before she
left to join DeckerÕs crew. TheyÕd
been trying to figure out how or if they could make it work now that they were
on the Enterprise together. Or heÕd been trying to figure that out—she
seemed to see no problem with it.
He
loved her. She loved him. Did he want to stay with her? Hell, yes. He forced himself to stay in character
and finish the rest of his mission: cover as much ground as possible in the
complex. ÒNo. Why would I want to wait with slaves?Ó
Trevaling smiled.
ÒCome, thereÕs a salon thatÕs usually equipped nicely with delicacies
once we get past the pens. But this
wonÕt take long. YouÕve made me
quite motivated to be a fierce negotiator.Ó
##
Kirk
sat in the salon, ignoring the food and drink, but trying to look as
comfortable as he could—the picture of the confident business man sure of
his deal.
Trevaling came in, grinning wide enough that Kirk knew
heÕd gotten his price. ÒTheyÕre
bringing them now.Ó
ÒExcellent.Ó He stood and shook his brokerÕs
hand. ÒYouÕll be the first one I look
up when I need more.Ó
ÒI
seek only to serve.Ó
Oh,
the man would serve. Years of time in a Federation rehabilitation facility. Kirk thought his smile grew a little
brighter at the idea.
A
guard opened the door. ÒYour
purchases are ready for transport.Ó
Kirk
nodded and walked out to the hall, saw that his scientists were in a line, a
thin chain attached to a manacle on their left wrists. Chris was in the middle of the
line.
The
guard handed him a small controller.
ÒThe red button is for control if they donÕt heed voice commands. The longer you hold it down, the more
pain they feel—eventually they will lose consciousness. If you want to separate a slave from the
chain, hold the controller next to the green button on their manacles and push
the green button. It will unlock
the manacles and the slave can be removed from the chain.Ó
Kirk
nodded, then gestured for the line to proceed down the hall in front of him. ÒPut your hoods up,Ó he said. ÒItÕs windy as hell and I donÕt want you
blinded after I paid top dollar.Ó
There
was some jostling as they tried to put their hoods up at the same time. He put his own hood up and followed them
out into the blowing sand, telling them when to turn and turn again, until he
saw his ship ahead.
He
told them to stop, keyed in the unlock sequence on the ship, and opened the
door. In the back of the ship was a
large cargo bay with bench seating around the side. He ordered the line into the bay and
then walked over to Chris, held the controller to her manacles and separated
her from the group.
ÒIf
any of you are hungry, there is food in that blue container. Water is in the red one. WeÕll be at our destination
shortly. You will be treated
well. Relax.Ó He pushed Chris ahead of him and locked
the cargo bay door behind him.
Then
he took a deep breath and looked at her.
She was staring at him with a blank smile that unnerved him. Pointing to the passenger seat, he said,
ÒSit down,Ó then went to the controls and got them the hell off the planet.
He
wouldnÕt feel safe until he was out of atmosphere and to the rendezvous
point. And even then, he probably
wouldnÕt feel safe until he saw the Enterprise
through the viewscreen.
He
could feel Chris sneaking peeks at him, but she remained quiet. Had they trained that into her and if
so, how?
ÒYou
have a question?Ó
ÒWhat
do I call you? Or are you a temporary
owner?Ó She said it as if owner was a concept that didnÕt bother
her.
ÒYou
can call me sir.Ó
ÒSir.Ó She managed to put almost a sexual spin
on the word. ÒI have no name.Ó
ÒYou
do, actually.Ó He finished setting
the course, then turned to look at her.
ÒNormally
our owners name us.Ó She was
frowning. ÒBut you want me
to...guess?Ó
ÒNo. Your name is Chris. Christine, actually. But I call you Chris.Ó
ÒAre
you creating a fictional overlay for our interaction? And why me? Or will you do this with each of us?Ó She smiled at him, and the expression,
the achingly innocent smile, reminded him of KorbyÕs Andrea.
ÒJust
you.Ó
ÒWhy
just me?Ó
ÒYou
interest me. Now, as part of this
overlay, pretend you are a doctor and scientist on my staff. I am a powerful man. I command many people. If you were to give me a report on the
workings of my vast holdings, what would you say?Ó
The
empty smile faded. The Chris he
knew was back. Considering,
analyzing. She looked around,
reached for the tricorder that sat next to her seat. ÒYour vast holdings are recorded on
this?Ó
He
nodded. It was part of the bona
fides heÕd used with Trevaling.
She
read for a few minutes. ÒYour wine
crop has blight.Ó
He
smiled. ÒI know. My wine manager is afraid to tell me.Ó
ÒFire
him. HeÕs not doing his job.Ó
He
closed his eyes. TheyÕd had a
version of this conversation in the Loire Valley just before sheÕd reported to
DeckerÕs crew. HeÕd accused her of
being harsh; sheÕd shot back that hiding the truth merited it. The wine manager hadnÕt been responsible
for the blight, but heÕd taken no steps to mitigate it or warn his superiors of
it.
The
same answer meant some basic part of her was still there.
She
studied the padd some more. ÒYour
holdings in Metamex should be liquidated.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó
She
frowned. ÒUmmm?Ó
He
could tell she was trying to access a memory that must have been erased. Metamex was a
highly successful conglomerate.
Until a Federation Board had ruled that they were responsible for
testing their products offworld in extremely poor
sectors—products that did not always work, that often left the test
subjects little more than vegetables.
The ruling had come out before sheÕd left for the conference; MetamexÕs stocks had plummeted during the time sheÕd been
held.
She
had no way of knowing Metamex was in danger unless
the memory of the Federation ruling wasnÕt gone but only blocked.
He
felt himself letting out breath he hadnÕt realized heÕd been holding—blocked
memories could be recovered.
ÒYou
said you only were interested in me.
And I see no mention of a wife here.Ó She studied the nav
board, then smiled and rose from her seat.
ÒAnd you have set the controls on automatic.Ó
He
shook his head. ÒNo. I didnÕt mean that I wanted—Ó
She
was on his lap before he could protest, was kissing him, and for a moment, he
let her, closing his eyes and losing himself in the scent of her hair, the feel
of her lips. But then she reached
down lower, gripping him through his pants, and he said firmly, ÒChris, stop.Ó
She
let go with a confused look. ÒYou
are alone, are you not?Ó
ÒAnd
youÕre a scientist, not a pleasure slave.Ó
ÒI
can be both.Ó
He
felt a knot forming in his stomach.
ÒDid they train you to be both?Ó
ÒNo. But you are rich, are you not? You bought many of us and we are not
cheap. That is drilled into
us. You ask me strange questions
that seem a smokescreen for merely spending time with me. IÕm sorry if IÕm being forward, but a
sexual association with you would improve my position here. And my position is all I have.Ó
He
laughed, a soft exhale of air that came out as bitter as he felt. This was basic Chris, too, if he was
honest with himself. SheÕd been
with Korby as his grad student.
HeÕd always viewed that as a love match, but what if sheÕd been
ambitious—what if sheÕd sought position, not passion?
What
if sheÕd done the same with him?
But
no, sheÕd been leaving him. For Decker.
Decker,
who she might also have been planning to seduce? A captain on the ship
and an admiral on Earth who remembered her fondly. Win win.
ÒWhatever
you are thinking about, it is making you sad.Ó She shifted in a way that felt
indescribably good. ÒOr mad, I canÕt
tell.Ó
ÒIÕm
not mad.Ó
She
waited. ÒSo youÕre sad?Ó
ÒYes,
IÕm sad.Ó He brushed her hair off
her face, told himself to let go of these
thoughts. He was as confused as she
was. Once they got her memory back,
things would be fine.
ÒIf,Ó he could hear Spock
saying. ÒIf we get her memory back,
Jim.Ó
When,
damn it. Spock was just being
overcautious. When they got her memory back.
He
pulled her down to him for a quick kiss.
ÒGet off my lap. YouÕll need
to relax during this journey. But
know this: youÕre safe with me.Ó
ÒI
feel safe with you, sir.Ó She got
off his lap, leaving part of him bereft as hell. Her smile was brilliant and just the
slightest bit vacant, and once again he was reminded of Andrea. She started to sit back down in the seat
next to him.
ÒNot
there, Chris.Ó He got up, escorted
her to a small cabin. ÒSorry, not
that I donÕt trust you but...Ó
ÒBut
I want to stay with you.Ó
ÒAnd
that would be lovely, but itÕs not workable. Now, enjoy the private and very
soundproof luxury. ItÕs my
room. Do you see the importance of
that?Ó
She
stood a little straighter. ÒI
do. Thank you.Ó
ÒAre
you hungry?Ó
ÒA
little.Ó
ÒThereÕs
food in the chiller there. I think
youÕll find it to your liking.Ó
Since heÕd stocked it with all her favorite things.
ÒYouÕre
a kind man.Ó
ÒYou
havenÕt always thought so.Ó Their
last words before she left for the conference had been ugly ones. HeÕd been on his off again
phase—sure he shouldnÕt break his rules for her. SheÕd been tired of him, tired of
waiting, tired of his rules. SheÕd
told him she might transfer off.
HeÕd
told her that might be for the best.
SheÕd
then told him maybe Spock would be more open to her than he was. He didnÕt think sheÕd meant it, thought
sheÕd just been so hurt, so tired of his stupid rule that sheÕd struck out.
ÒYouÕre
sad again.Ó She moved toward him,
her face so sweet he had to shut the door between them and lock it.
He
stood there a long time on the other side of the door, wanting nothing more
than to open it and make love to her, make her his.
But
that would be wrong.
He
turned and left her in peace. Tried
to put her out of his mind as he sat at the shipÕs controls, doing basically
nothing useful.
So close. She
was so close. And heÕd thought he
wouldnÕt see her again.
He
closed his eyes, imagined what her reaction would be once she got her memory
back to his seducing her now, and took a deep breath, finally able to focus on
just getting them home.
Once
he was safely out of range of the Alzara system, he
hailed the Enterprise.
Spock
answered at once. ÒEnterprise here, sir.Ó
ÒCargo
secured. I got an
extra four scientists that I think are also ours. We can check once I get aboard.Ó His ship was clean of anything
Starfleet, a borrowed merchant vessel one of his friends no longer needed and
hadnÕt used in a long time.
ÒAffirmative. I have been in close coordination with
the team waiting at Starfleet Medical.
They agreed it made sense to keep Doctor Chapel here, for me to work
with her. As she and I shared
consciousness, I am the most familiar with how her mental structures should be
arranged.Ó
Kirk
felt an irrational surge of jealousy.
ÒGood. I did a few small
tests. These people are good but I
found some chinks.Ó
ÒI
hope your tests did not do any damage.Ó
ÒI
wasnÕt trying to hurt her, Spock. SheÕs
not an android I was trying to screw up.Ó
He sighed. ÒSorry, IÕm keyed
up. Seeing the scale of that
operation. Those poor people.Ó
ÒOnce
the schematics of the site are downloaded from your padd and the shuttleÕs
passive receptors, Starfleet will send teams in to shut it down
permanently. The people will be
saved. Because of you.Ó Spock sounded only slightly more
emotional than usual. The meld with
VÕger had worn off quickly, thank God, since Kirk was
handing over his girl to him. His
girl who might or might not still be in love with Spock—Kirk hoped to God
her memories came in most recent first.
And
Spock didnÕt know how Kirk felt about Chris. Kirk didnÕt see how he could tell him
when he wasnÕt even sure he was going to let himself keep Chris. What if she had been serious? What if she wanted Spock, and Spock
could want her now, and they could be happy? If Kirk loved her—and couldnÕt
have her for himself—shouldnÕt he want her to be happy with his best
friend?
He
realized he was clenching his fists so hard theyÕd gone white. Clearly the right answer and the answer
heÕd give were not the same thing.
He
pushed the shipÕs speed up, tried not to think about Chris or Spock or anything
else until he heard UhuraÕs voice telling him the Enterprise had him, was bringing him
home.
He
got on the intercom. ÒPassengers,
prepare for landing. If youÕre not
sitting down, then find a seat and stay in it until I open the doors and let
you out.Ó
After
they landed in the shuttlebay, it seemed to take
forever for the doors to close, for the bay to fill with the air needed to
support life. Finally, the lights
switched to green, and he popped the door and saw Bones and Spock heading
toward him with a detail of security officers and several nurses.
Kirk
turned back, opened the cargo bay, and said, ÒEveryone up. Hold out your wrists.Ó
He
went down the line, opening manacles, talking as he worked. ÒYouÕre no longer slaves, but you are in
protective custody until further notice.
You will be assigned a security detail, and you are to obey them to the
letter. Do you understand?Ó
He
heard a robust chorus of ÒYes,Ó and beckoned for them to follow him, then
motioned them off the ship. The
nurses and security officers took them away.
Bones
climbed onto the ship. ÒWhere is
she?Ó
Kirk
hit the door to the cabin. ÒChris,
come on out.Ó
She
was sitting on the bed, got up, and walked to him. ÒSir?Ó
ÒThis
is Doctor McCoy. He will be
checking your physical state.Ó He
saw Spock coming toward the cabin, watched her carefully for any reaction, and
saw none. ÒAnd this is Commander
Spock. He is my second in
command. You will be working with
him.Ó
She
looked at him, a frown growing.
ÒYou no longer want me to work with you?Ó She gestured at the cabin. ÒTo stay here with you?Ó
ÒWell
this is my small ship.Ó He took her
arm, led her to the door of the ship.
ÒThis is my big ship. And
no, you wonÕt be staying with me.Ó
She
turned to Spock. ÒAre you a scientist
as well as an important man?Ó
ÒI
am.Ó
ÒThen
it is logical that I work with you.Ó
She turned back to Kirk.
ÒPerhaps more logical than staying with you.Ó
ÒIn
this case, yes.Ó
She
nodded. ÒI understand.Ó
ÒAnd,
Chris. YouÕre not a slave. You are under my protection. Do you understand the difference?Ó
ÒIt
could merely be semantics. Or it
could mean IÕm free.Ó She shot him
a quick smile that looked like the woman he knew. ÒAre you freeing me or do you just
prefer to sugarcoat the fact you keep slaves?Ó
Bones
laughed. ÒSame old Christine.Ó
Spock
nodded. ÒIndeed, that is a most
promising sign.Ó
Kirk
smiled. ÒYouÕre free, Chris. But with limits. You see, part
of your memory is gone.Ó He saw
SpockÕs eyebrows lower and knew he had to be careful how far he went with this—they
couldnÕt afford to spook her before they even started. ÒSpock will help you recover those
memories. But in the meantime, you
are not at liberty to roam the ship.Ó
She
stood very still, seemed lost in thought, and Kirk thought she was assessing
her mental state. ÒI have wondered
if I was all right. I remember some
things with such ease but others...Ó She shook her head as if chasing
away any pain or worry. ÒBut once I
am myself again, I will be fully free?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒAgain,
logical. I accept the conditions of
your protection.Ó
Bones
turned to Spock. ÒYou sure you
donÕt want to rethink your old position on her? She sounds like a Vulcan to me.Ó
ÒIndeed. It is quite refreshing.Ó Spock lifted an eyebrow in his signature
touchŽ move.
Bones
clapped Kirk gently on the back.
ÒCome on, Jim. LetÕs get her
checked out and get you back to your old self. Those eyebrows must itch like holy
hell.Ó
He
nodded and followed behind Chris and Spock as Bones said, ÒSure
is good to see her. If
anyone can get through to her, he can.Ó
Kirk
swallowed hard. ÒYouÕre right,
Bones. If anyone can, itÕll be
Spock.Ó
##
Spock
stood back as McCoy had Doctor Chapel sit on the biobed. She looked healthier than when she had
left—he had noted dark circles under her eyes, a
certain haunted look his mother had often worn when she was irritated with his
father, and yet Spock did not believe Chapel had been seeing anyone.
ÒWell,
Christine, your readings are damned good.Ó
She
turned, took a quick look at the biobed scales behind
her. ÒActually, my readings are
better than good; they are excellent.
Your analysis of them, however, is not. You are the head doctor here?Ó
Spock
had to work to hide the uptick his lips wanted to take. It was an excellent retort, one he
himself would have made. The smile
was due to the remnants of the meld with VÕger—remnants
he was taking great pains to hide, but which were far from gone.
McCoyÕs
eyebrow going up was her only answer.
ÒMister Spock, sheÕs all yours.Ó
ÒDoctor
Chapel, please come with me.Ó
She
slid off the biobed, fell in next to him, easily
keeping stride. He was used to
having to adjust his gait, but she was tall and her legs long. He walked even faster; she kept up
still.
ÒDid
they have you on an exercise regime at the facility the captain bought you at?Ó
ÒThe
captain? Oh, you mean Sir?Ó At his nod, she said, ÒYes. They wanted us healthy enough for any
environment.Ó
ÒLogical.Ó
ÒQuite.Ó She studied him. ÒYou are a Vulcan?Ó
ÒI
am.Ó
ÒVulcans
are supposed to eschew emotion and yet you found my comments to Doctor McCoy
amusing.Ó
ÒYou
are correct on both counts. It
is...complicated.Ó
ÒYou
are a scientist. Attempt to gist it
for an abstract.Ó Her look was as
disapproving as SarekÕs ever was.
He
took a deep breath. ÒVery
well. First and foremost, I am half
human. I struggle with emotions. I even, at one time, sought to purge all
emotions from me through an extreme Vulcan discipline. I abandoned that path however when I
became aware of the call of a being of pure logic, and I followed that call.Ó
ÒWhat
did you find?Ó
ÒAn
entity intent on destroying all known life.Ó
She
smiled wryly. ÒDisappointing.Ó
ÒIndeed.Ó He met her eyes. ÒThis is the part where my judgment may
be called into question. I donned a
spacesuit and melded—have you heard of the mind meld?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒI
melded with said entity. It
was...overwhelming. I nearly died.Ó
ÒAnd
youÕre going to be helping me? With
the same kind of meld?Ó She started
to laugh, and it sounded a little hysterical.
ÒYou
are not VÕger.Ó
She
stopped walking. ÒSay that again.Ó
He
moved closer. ÒVÕger.Ó
ÒI
feel that. But when I reach for the memory...Ó
ÒI
understand. Trust those feelings.Ó
She
smiled. ÒThis coming from a
Vulcan.Ó
He
put his hand on her elbow, got her walking again. ÒMy guess is that your memories are all
in place, but the pointers, if you will, are broken.Ó
ÒLike
on a data disk?Ó
ÒPrecisely. Some memories are limited in scope. If I erase the pointer to what I had for
dinner last night, the impact might be very small. But if someone were to try to erase VÕger from my mind, the impact would be huge. Because it touches so
many aspects of my life. And
I imagine the same is true for you.Ó
ÒSuch
as...?Ó
ÒTelling
you would taint the process. You
must discover your memories on your own.
But trust your feelings in this.Ó
ÒDo
you trust your feelings? You who
just said you tried to purge them all?Ó
ÒI
am learning to.Ó
ÒDo
you have feelings for me?Ó
He
was unsure how to answer her. In
the past, it would have been an easy matter to say no and be done with it. But now...he had been more worried than
was normal when she was taken, more affected by her absence. It could be VÕgerÕs
effects, but he was not noticing any heightened emotion around other
crewmen. And he had tried to argue
with Jim to let him go, let him pretend to be a Romulan
merchant.
Only
Jim had made the case that he was the better actor. That he could be disguised better. That SpockÕs role was crucial in helping
Christine get well once she was rescued.
He was irreplaceable and could not be risked.
ÒYouÕre
taking an awfully long time to say Ôno,Õ so the answer must be Ômaybe,Õ or
Ôyes.ÕÓ
ÒThis
is unproductive given the nature of the work we will be doing together.Ó
ÒOn
the contrary, if youÕre going to be rifling through my mind, I think IÕd feel
far more secure knowing you were doing it with at least a little affection for
me in your heart.Ó
ÒThen
you may think that if it gives you comfort.Ó
ÒCagey
answer.Ó She smiled. ÒBut I will think that. Because it does give me comfort.Ó
He
stopped in front of the guest quarters heÕd assigned her, a bare room free of
her own things, nothing to overwhelm her—also nothing that could be used
as a weapon. ÒOpen the door,Ó he
practically barked at her, calling back his drill instructor at the Academy.
She
didnÕt hesitate, palmed open the door and then stared at her hand. ÒHow did I know...?Ó She walked into the room. ÒMuscle memory, I guess?Ó
ÒProbably. Or a chinks in
the armor. Either way,
promising. I believe I can help
you, Doctor.Ó
She
turned. ÒWill you do me a favor?Ó
ÒIt
will depend on the favor.Ó
She
laughed. ÒWill you call me
Christine?Ó
ÒAs
you wish, Christine.Ó He gestured
for her to go inside. ÒYou can open
the door from the outside, but once you are inside, you are essentially stuck
here unless the captain, myself, or Doctor McCoy buzz for entrance—we are
unlocking the door but for your privacy, you are allowed to open it. If you need assistance, call me on
this.Ó He showed her the intercom,
and then nodded to the chiller.
ÒThe captain wanted you to take your meals here.Ó
ÒNo
contaminating anyone?Ó
ÒI
believe it is the other way around.
No contaminating you with people who might know you, confuse you as they
impose their memories on you.Ó
ÒAh. Yes, it sounds much better that
way.Ó She opened the chiller door,
smiled as she looked in. ÒSame
things that were on his ship. I
liked what I had earlier.Ó She grabbed
a container of water and closed the door.
ÒSo, when do we start?Ó
ÒAre
you tired?Ó
ÒI
slept on the ship.Ó
ÒThen
I will return in an hour and we can begin.
You will find fresh clothing in the closet. The shower has instructions for sonic
and water.Ó
ÒAre
you saying I need a shower?Ó
ÒYou
will feel better if you are clean.
We will be lying quite close on the bed. For a sustained meld, it is easier to
lie down.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó She opened the water, drank a healthy
swallow. ÒWill the meld hurt?Ó
ÒIt
should not.Ó
ÒThatÕs
not really a no.Ó
ÒIt
does not usually hurt. Given what
they did to you, I cannot, however, guarantee this will not.Ó
ÒFair
enough.Ó She took another swallow,
then shooed him out. ÒGo do
whatever you have to do. IÕll get
clean.Ó
He
put a hand on her shoulder, let it
linger. ÒPlease do not be
afraid.Ó
ÒIÕm
trying really hard.Ó
He
squeezed her shoulder, then let it go, and went to find Jim.
##
Kirk
sat on the bridge, trying not to scratch his face where Bones had removed the
prosthetics. He heard the turbolift
open, forced himself not to turn around even though he
could tell it was SpockÕs steps coming toward him. He pretended to be absorbed by the padd
he was reading until he couldnÕt avoid looking up.
ÒAh,
Mister Spock, what do you think?
Repairable?Ó Damn, too hale,
too hearty, and too damn loud. He
could see Spock thought so, too.
ÒPerhaps
another venue?Ó SpockÕs voice was
pitched very low.
ÒSulu,
you have the conn.Ó He slipped out
of the chair, walked with Spock to the turbolift. As soon as the doors closed, he said,
ÒHow is she?Ó
ÒI
believe I, too, have seen holes in the memory reprogramming that was done to
her. I believe in time I can repair
it.Ó
The
lift opened and they walked to KirkÕs quarters. He palmed them in, took a seat at his
table in the office side, then gestured for Spock to
sit. ÒGood.Ó
ÒI
will need uninterrupted time with her.Ó
ÒUnderstood. YouÕre relieved of other duties unless
an emergency comes up.Ó
Spock
nodded. Then he frowned slightly. ÒJim, I need to know something.Ó
ÒShoot.Ó
ÒYou
were particularly vehement about finding Doctor Chapel—and in being the
one to carry out the mission. Before
she left for the conference, Doctor Chapel was clearly upset about
something. In her guest quarters
just now she said you had perhaps gone to some effort to stock her chiller both
there and on the ship with things she liked.Ó
Kirk
smiled easily—the fake smile he used on aliens about to shoot him. ÒEarth delicacies. Most women like them, Spock. I can give you a list if you want to use
them on your next date.Ó
SpockÕs
eyes narrowed. ÒYou are
deflecting.Ó He sat back. ÒIs there something I should know about
your relationship with Doctor Chapel before I proceed?Ó
Now
was the time. Now
or never. Three simple words
would do it: he loved her. He
settled for four. ÒWhy do you ask?Ó
Spock
met his eyes, seemed to be trying to read him. ÒBecause I am not unaffected by her.Ó
Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.
ÒJust
do your job, Spock.Ó The words came
out before he could stop them.
Harsh and bitter, and he saw Spock look at him in surprise. ÒJust do it and see what happens. YouÕll find out whatever you need to as
you go along, right? Why ask
me? SheÕs the one that matters.Ó
ÒAre
you with her?Ó Spock the terrier
was not letting go of this bone.
Kirk
knew that there was no point in anything but honesty. ÒNo. I was. IÕm not now.Ó
ÒNot
now...for how long?Ó Spock was
clearly off balance. Just how affected was he by Chris?
ÒSince
before she reported to the ship.
You know my rules. Have I
ever broken them—and kept the person aboard after?Ó
ÒNo.Ó
ÒWell,
then thereÕs your fucking answer.
Go get her memory back.
Whatever else happens happens.Ó He swallowed hard.
ÒJim,
if you care for her then I will—Ó
ÒSpock,
for the love of God, just go get her memories. Leave it to divine fortune, okay? If she remembers me first, then youÕll
have an angry woman on your hands.
If she doesnÕt, then she wonÕt even care about me until itÕs too goddamn
late. Just leave it up to
chance.Ó He got up, stalked to the viewscreen as an uncomfortable silence filled the
room. ÒLook, youÕre my best
friend. I trust you with her. Do you understand what IÕm saying?Ó
ÒI
do not. Stonn
was once my best friend, but I did not appreciate him stealing my woman.Ó
Kirk
laughed. ÒGod love you, my
friend. I want to live in your
world for a while.Ó He turned. ÒYou wonÕt be stealing her. You canÕt steal what I wonÕt keep. And she was mad at me when she left. Furious, actually, for
exactly that. I love her,
Spock. But I canÕt have her. But I damn well was going to get her
back from those sons of bitches who stole her. And now sheÕs in your hands. Literally.Ó
He
turned around, clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath. ÒI trust you with her. Go get started.Ó
ÒI
will attempt to find her most recent memories first.Ó
Kirk
turned to look at him. ÒIf you
hadnÕt had this conversation with me, would you do that?Ó
Spock
looked down. ÒNo.Ó
ÒThen
follow your best instincts. She
matters most in this. Not you or
I.Ó
ÒUnderstood.Ó He met KirkÕs eyes. ÒA meld of this duration will be
intensely personal, but I will endeavor to not get too close.Ó
ÒAnd
how will that affect her? You pulling back when she needs you? Damn it, Spock. DonÕt you get it? How I feel is irrelevant. Why do you think I didnÕt tell you? You were going to find out anyway if you
were successful. I knew that. But I wanted you to go in with no
preconceptions.Ó He sighed. ÒJust...just take care of her.Ó
Spock
stood. ÒI am your friend.Ó
ÔThen
go be my friend. Get her back. Whatever it takes, Spock.Ó
SpockÕs
look was helpless as he nodded and left Kirk alone.
Kirk
turned back to the viewscreen and laid his hand on the
wall, desperately trying to feel the pulse of his ship under his skin—the
other woman in his life, the one who refused to share.
##
Spock
rang for admittance at ChristineÕs quarters, followed her in, and said without
preamble, ÒWe can begin.Ó
She
backed away from him. ÒWhatÕs wrong
with you?Ó
ÒNothing
is wrong with me. Earlier you asked
when we could start.Ó
ÒAnd
earlier you were...open. Now...now
youÕre all shut down.Ó
He
looked away.
ÒLook. This talk of freedom and lost memories,
itÕs grand, really. And I can see
how the captain might need more scientists on this ship or whatever it is. But we all know when weÕre in that
place...Ó She
looked away, her voice beginning to shake.
ÒWe all know that itÕs just not our minds and talents that will be
bought. So if youÕre going to rape
me, just get it over with.Ó
ÒIÕm
not going to hurt you.Ó He sat down
on the bed and let out breath he had not realized he was holding. ÒAnd I apologize. I should have composed myself
better. I had a difficult
conversation and it left me...Ó
She
came closer. ÒShaken?Ó
He
decided not to lie to her. ÒYes.Ó
ÒShould
you be messing around with my mind if youÕre shaken?Ó
ÒNo.Ó He held out his hand. ÒBut there are meditations we can
do. They will help us get into
sync; it will make the meld easier.
And they will calm both of us.
Do you trust me?Ó
ÒI
do.Ó She took his hand, sat next to
him on the bed. ÒNo shoes on the
bed.Ó Then she frowned. ÒWhere did that come from?Ó
ÒPerhaps
a pet peeve?Ó He could always ask
Jim. Why did his friend not just
tell him the truth?
He
reached down and unfastened his boots while she kicked off the slippers sheÕd
changed into. Then they lay down on
the bed on their sides, facing each other.
ÒI
will breath out through my mouth, and you inhale from your nose, then you
exhale from your mouth and I will breathe in from my nose. It is called catching the breath or
circle of breath. The goal will be
to slow our breathing but never past what is comfortable. And never to hold oneÕs breath, but rather to elongate the space between
breaths. And breathe from your
diaphragm, not from your chest. Do
you understand?Ó
ÒI
think so. Do we close our eyes?Ó
ÒNo,
because to hold the space between breaths means you are dependent on the other
to take his breath in time for you to breathe again comfortably. We must become aware of each other. I will start the meditation with the
first inhale, when I exhale, then you inhale, and exhale and then the true test
begins.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó
He
took a deep breath through his nose, let it out through his mouth, and felt the
emptiness fill his diaphragm, the space of nonbreath. Christine inhaled shallowly—she
would need to breathe more deeply but she would learn—then exhaled and he
waited, saw her eyes grow wide as she realized this was what he had meant, this
was when she must wait, when there was no breath to hold. He inhaled and exhaled before she could
lose focus, saw her inhale more deeply this time, then exhale slowly, drawing
it out as if she realized she had inhaled too quickly and now was making up the
time, making him wait.
He
nodded in approval, then waited a little longer to inhale, then to exhale, and
sat in the nonbreath, waiting for her to breathe.
She
smiled at him and did not breathe. Finally,
she took a long breath and let it out quickly. He could not wait long, had been
surprised at how long she had held her inhale, but made his exhale slow,
watched her eyes, waited until he saw the first sign of distress then finished
the exhale, and she inhaled immediately.
But she made the exhale longer than he thought
possible, and he knew his lips were ticking up slightly. Her eyes sparkled as she finished, and
he continued holding his breath, and together they lay not moving in the moment
of nonbreath, until he finally inhaled and exhaled
and she waited, drawing the moment out longer, then
inhaling finally.
When
he eventually stopped them, he thought they were up to Vulcan intermediate
levels.
She
smiled. ÒHow can a game be so competitive
and relaxing at the same time?Ó
ÒOnly
a human can turn that into a game.Ó
He knew his expression was full of affection, did not try to tone it
down. ÒAre you ready for the meld?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒLie
on your back. You will be more
comfortable.Ó He moved closer. ÒThis will be...intimate.Ó
ÒI
trust you.Ó
He
settled in next to her, his head resting against hers, his body nestled along
the length of hers. He found the
psi points on her face, was inside her quickly, the meditation leaving her
completely open to him. He felt as
if he was floating easily inside of her rather than swimming through murky
water the way the initial stages of a meld usually felt.
ÒAre
you all right?Ó he asked.
ÒUmm
hmmm.Ó
ÒTalking
will be difficult for me as I go further in. If you need me to stop, call out inside
your mind. It will be jarring but
effective.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó
He
moved further into her mind, not seeking to do much with this first foray, just
trying to see what looked obviously missing, what seemed off from his memories
of them sharing consciousness. To
wipe basic personality was a tricky thing, usually something new was imprinted
over what was missing but that had not been done here. The pointers had been left...hanging was
the best he could describe what he was seeing. Hanging and, like ungrounded wires,
eventually they would touch something they shouldnÕt and set off chaos.
These
slaves were inherently unstable. In
five, maybe ten years, they would likely go mad. In more volatile
species such as Klingons, perhaps as little as one. He imagined Vulcans, too, would not last
long. Deprived of their touchstones—their
memories of their years of mastery—they, too, would snap quickly. It was no doubt why the slavers preyed
on humans—Spock had wondered why so many of the people Jim had seen in
the holding cells had been of one species when there were others who lived
longer, learned faster, and were more docile in captivity.
Christine
was in no danger at the moment, so he continued his explorations, trying to ascertain
what memories lay where. If he
could, he would restore her most recent memories first. But he knew that with dementia patients
and even the elderly who were merely wandering as they approached their end,
the past of long ago was often more clear than what had been eaten for their last
meal. And so it was here. What he was seeing easily were ChristineÕs
memories when young.
They
had left her childhood. Stripped
her name but left her memories of growing up, the only child of two academics. A simple matter to reconnect her name to
those memories, give her back who she was. And then he would no doubt be able to
work forward from there. It was the
most logical way. The safest way to bring her back. But not the best way
for Jim.
Jim
had told him that only Christine mattered.
He had to take his friend at his word. He hoped Jim had taken him at his
word. By the time this was done, he
and Christine would be intimately connected—perhaps in a more profound
way than if theyÕd merely had sex.
He
searched one more time through her mind.
Going slowly, looking for any memory of Jim as her lover, of her being
angry with Jim, of the slightest remnant Spock could use to give her back to
his friend.
There
was nothing. Only
her childhood. So her childhood
it must be.
He
could do that now.
He
backed out somewhat, to the very edge of the meld, so they could talk. ÒI can start now, if you feel ready to
begin to know yourself again?Ó
ÒItÕs
strange to feel you in there.
Strange but familiar.Ó
ÒI
have been with you before. Do you
want me to stop for now? We can
resume in the morning.Ó
ÒNo,
give it to me now. Can we...I mean
if I need to...can we talk after? I
may be overwhelmed. I guess IÕm
asking you not to leave.Ó
ÒI
will not leave as long as you need me.
Are you ready?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
He
went back in, found the earliest memories and began to work, finding the places
where the pointers, such as they were, had been severed between identity and
experience, rebuilding them. These
would be the simplest since they had done so little here. In the future, she would be able to help
him to some extent; he could bring her with him into this if he reached
anything too tangled. He finished
and eased back out, could feel her processing as he reached the outer edges of
the meld. He kept a light hold on
her and waited.
He
felt like a voyeur, but he knew this was unavoidable. She wanted him to stay, and if he did,
he would see what she did, experience what she was going through.
ÒOhhhh,Ó she said softly.
And he turned his attention to what she was focusing on. Her grandmotherÕs
death. Ancient history to
the Christine he knew, but to this one, fresh and sharp.
ÒI
loved her so.Ó There was an
emptiness he did not like in her voice and he searched through the memories he
had been working in—looking at them now, not just the
connectors—and found the interactions between her and her
grandmother. Saw how important the
woman had been to her. How she had
spent the summers with her. How the
woman represented comfort and...presence. ChristineÕs parents had been high-ranking
academicians, often traveling, working late even when home. SheÕd been raised by a series of paid
caretakers, none of whom had stayed around long enough for her to grow attached
to and he suspected that had been by design. Her grandmother was the only one who had
made time for her.
ÒShe
loved you, too,Ó he said softly, knowing from his own upbringing how important
his mother had been, her love, her constancy.
ÒMy
name is Christine Chapel.Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒI
am from Earth. I grew up in
Madison. My grandmother lived in
Marquette.Ó She suddenly cuddled
against him like a child would.
ÒThey wouldnÕt let me go to the funeral. My parents thought it was barbaric to
expose children to that. I never
got to say goodbye.Ó
ÒWhenever
we honor our ancestors with right thought, we say goodbye.Ó He was not sure this made sense, and it did
not fit with Vulcan theology and the capture of katras,
but he thought it brought her some comfort for she nodded against his chest.
ÒIs
there any other memory that causes you concern?Ó
She
looked up at him, her eyes wet from crying. ÒAre your fingers starting to cramp?Ó
ÒYes,
a little.Ó
ÒYou
can end the meld.Ó
He
cut the connection as gently as he could and pulled his fingers off the psi
points, was surprised when she reached for his hand and began to massage his
fingers quite effectively.
ÒTherapeutic. Least I can do.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó
ÒThis
was easy, wasnÕt it? Compared to
how itÕs going to get?Ó
ÒYes.Ó He rolled to his back,
let her continue to work on his fingers.
ÒAs we progress, I may need your help. I will pull you in with me if that is
the case.Ó
ÒI
trust you.Ó
ÒYou
say that. On what do you base that
trust?Ó
ÒI
donÕt know. A feeling, I guess. You said to trust those, remember?Ó She stopped with his fingers. ÒBetter?Ó
He
wiggled them. ÒMuch. Thank you.Ó
ÒIÕm
all right now. You donÕt have to
stay. I can process the rest
alone.Ó
ÒWe
will resume in the morning, then.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó
ÒYou
are welcome.Ó
##
Kirk
saw Spock come into the rec lounge, and got off his barstool, motioning with
his chin to a table near the viewscreens in one of
the quieter corners. ÒSo?Ó
ÒI
was able to start repairing the damage.
I was delayed getting here as I had to report
in to Starfleet medical. Jim, the
mechanism the slavers are using to detach the identity from the memories is
extraordinarily unstable in the long run.
Most humans will have some sort of psychotic break in five to ten years
after the procedure.Ó
ÒJesus.Ó
ÒYes. Starfleet Medical had not started any
work yet so they were grateful for this information. It will make it imperative for Starfleet
to ascertain who else the slavers have taken over the time their operation has
been in business and track them down.Ó
Kirk
nodded. This just got more
depressing. ÒSo tell me some good
news.Ó
ÒI
was able to reconnect ChristineÕs identity with her memories.Ó
Christine. Not Doctor Chapel. And Kirk didnÕt think Spock was even
aware heÕd called her that. But
still he grinned. ÒThatÕs
fantastic.Ó
ÒIt
is. Unfortunately, it was her early
childhood. I looked, Jim. I looked twice, very carefully, for
recent memories. I would have
started with those.Ó
Kirk
held up his hand. ÒStow it,
Spock. I told you. You start with what you find. Destiny picked. We start at the beginning.Ó
ÒYes. It will be safest for her, I think. Even something as simple as childhood,
where relatively little was delinked, held its traumas.Ó
ÒAnd
you get to live those with her.Ó
Spock got to be part of her life, to understand her better than anyone
else ever would.
ÒTechnically,
I am repairing connections. I do
not go into memories, unless the aftereffects of the reconnecting require
it. I am not...one with her by any
means.Ó
ÒSpock,
youÕre in her mind. YouÕre
shepherding her reintegration. Once
you hit the real Chris, youÕll be a god to her.Ó He sighed—he didnÕt stand a
goddamned chance. ÒBut sheÕs all
right? I mean,
she seemed okay?Ó
ÒShe
did. She is very strong. She recognizes this will get
harder. I believe we will get her
back.Ó
Kirk
threw his drink back. ÒBest news
ever.Ó
ÒChess?Ó
ÒNot
tonight. IÕm...tired.Ó He got up. ÒYou must be, too.Ó
ÒI
am. But I would not mind a game.Ó
ÒMaybe
tomorrow?Ó He put his hand on
SpockÕs shoulder, then walked to the bar to drop his
glass off before heading out of the rec lounge.
He
got on the turbolift with every intention of going to deck five but wound up on
deck four instead, in front of ChrisÕs quarters. He rang the chime.
She
answered, smiled when she saw him, but he could tell sheÕd been crying. ÒSir.Ó
ÒI
just wanted to make sure you were okay.Ó
ÒI
am. Spock is taking good care of
me.Ó
He
wished that statement didnÕt send a surge of jealousy through him. ÒDo you want to take a walk? Those quarters must feel pretty small by
now.Ó
ÒYes,
IÕd like that.Ó
It
was a stupid thing to do. He knew
it, but he didnÕt care. HeÕd take
her down to the goddamn automated decks.
The ones where you needed special clearance to go.
He
led her to the lift, and they rode it to the bowels of the ship. She didnÕt seem to care that there
wasnÕt another person in sight, or that there was nothing to see.
ÒGoing
a little stir crazy, were you?Ó
She
nodded. ÒStuck in there
thinking...remembering.Ó
ÒLots
to process, I imagine.Ó
ÒYeah.Ó She yawned. ÒIÕm sorry. IÕm suddenly so tired.Ó
ÒThen
letÕs get you back to your quarters.Ó
He touched her forehead.
ÒRest this mind up for tomorrow.Ó
She
nodded. Then she frowned. ÒYou still look sad to me.Ó
ÒThatÕs
because I am a little sad at the moment.
But, IÕll get over it.Ó He
put his hand on the small of her back as he guided her back onto the lift, knew
he was torturing himself but couldnÕt stop. ÒBut you get better, and IÕll quit being
sad.Ó A lie but she didnÕt need to
know that.
ÒI
was lucky you found me.Ó
ÒThere
was no way I was not going to find you, Chris.Ó He knew his look was far too intense,
tried to dial it back as they arrived at her door. He waited until she palmed open her
door. ÒGood night. Sleep well.Ó
ÒYou,
too.Ó
The
door slid shut and he closed his eyes for a moment, then headed for his own
quarters before he could be any stupider.
##
Spock
rang for admittance to ChristineÕs quarters, nodded greetings when she opened
the door and stood aside to let him pass.
ÒDid you pass a pleasant evening?Ó
ÒI
did. The captain came and took me
for a walk.Ó
He
turned to look at her. ÒA walk?Ó
ÒYes. It involves placing one foot in front of
the other.Ó She studied him.
ÒOn
which deck?Ó
She
shrugged. ÒIt was an empty
one. Nobody there but us.Ó She sat down on the bed. ÒShall we start?Ó
ÒYou
saw no one?Ó
ÒWhy
are you so concerned? HeÕs the
captain—and your boss—he can take me for a walk if he wants.Ó
ÒI
worry about contamination.Ó
ÒOf
whom?Ó
ÒYou. It is very likely you could run into
someone who knows you, who would assail you with memories you are not equipped
to handle.Ó
ÒAssail
me? IsnÕt that a bit dramatic? Look, I may not know who I am, but IÕm a
doctor. So someone comes up who
knows me? Big deal. I think the trauma will be on them when
I look at them with the blank stare.Ó
ÒNonetheless.Ó
ÒOh,
good God, youÕre not letting this go.
YouÕre argument is illogical.
Move on.Ó
Spock
took a deep breath. She was right
in that his argument was illogical, but he was...annoyed with Jim for lying to
him about being tired and then turning around and seeking her out.
He
sat down next to her. ÒGive me a
moment.Ó
ÒTake
as many as you need.Ó She moved
around him, stretched out on the bed, and waited.
He
let go of his annoyance, let go of everything other than what he was here for:
helping her. He could feel her
energy behind him as he slowed his breathing, as he felt his tension fade. Once he felt in control of himself, he
eased back, and rolled to his side, and saw that she was watching him.
ÒAre
you ready to begin?Ó she asked softly.
He
nodded, and brushed her face with his fingers. She smiled, so he did it again, then settled his fingers onto her psi points. He could feel her opening herself up to
him, and he slid in with no effort, as he imagined longtime partners must meld.
She
moaned, and he thought it sounded like a moan of pleasure, not pain, but he
asked, ÒAre you all right?Ó anyway.
ÒIt
feels good, being this close to you.Ó
He
decided not to tell her he fully concurred: things were complicated enough
right now. ÒIÕm going to begin
now.Ó He eased deeper into her
mind, finding the place heÕd stopped, where the connections went from linked to
lying open. Her teen years were
relatively easy to connect. After
her grandmotherÕs death, sheÕd seemed to shut down emotionally, devoted herself
to studies. Her parents had
remained absent. There was little
to cause a ripple, and all he had to do was reestablish the joins between
identity and actions.
Even
her romantic relationships were almost...pro forma. As if she saw young men because she was
expected to, deepened the relationships because that too was deemed
normal. But she was never
passionate about any of the boys she was with.
This
continued at university. Until
graduate school, when she met Korby.
Spock found it interesting that her captors had left the memory of her
fiancŽ—conveniently scrubbed of his identity and tragic past—in the
background of her mind. A strong
figure of a man she loved and somehow lost but there was little emotion around
it.
He
imagined they might have found it convenient to have such a strong reference
point in her past for affection for an older, more powerful male, since that
was the most likely customer for her services—both professional and of a
more personal nature. She had
undoubtedly been right that many slaves were not bought solely for their minds.
He
began to relink the connections around Korby, felt her opening up to the
memories.
SheÕd
been happy with Korby. HeÕd treated
her well. HeÕd taught her
passion. Spock found her emotions
distracting, and eased away and then out of her as she lay
back, her eyes closed.
She
was smiling, a sensual smile, and she opened her eyes
and looked at him. ÒHe was the
first man who made me feel anything.
In bed, I mean.Ó
Spock
was not sure what to say.
She
laughed softly. ÒIÕm making you
uncomfortable.Ó
ÒSlightly,
yes.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry. ItÕs just...the memories are
so fresh. ItÕs really...immediate.Ó
ÒYes. You are aroused.Ó He could tell by the dilation of her
pupils, by the flush of her cheeks.
By the way she was breathing.
ÒIÕm
sorry.Ó
ÒDo
not apologize. It is a natural
reaction to reliving the memories.Ó
He stood. ÒI will give you some
time. I have something I need to
do. I will be back in an hour.Ó
ÒAll
right.Ó
ÒPerhaps
you should relieve some of the arousal.Ó
She
turned very red. ÒPerhaps I
will.Ó She started to laugh. ÒThis is so embarrassing.Ó
ÒI
do not mean it to be. It is just
that your level of arousal is very distracting. It would help me if it were lessened.Ó
ÒWell,
never let it be said I donÕt do what I can for the guy helping me out.Ó
He
nodded and left her alone, went immediately to the bridge.
Jim
saw him and gave him a wary smile as he approached. ÒHello.Ó
Spock
pitched his voice very low, the way he did when they were having a conversation
they wanted the rest of the bridge crew to ignore. ÒI do not believe evening
constitutionals are beneficial.Ó
ÒI
do not believe I asked you.Ó Jim
was smiling as if they were talking about something pleasant.
ÒNo,
in fact, you lied to me.Ó Spock
leaned in. ÒGiven the work ahead, I
anticipate that I will be with her most of the time. Your presence, no matter how generous to
her, will not be necessary.Ó
JimÕs
smile didnÕt waver. ÒAre we really
having this conversation?Ó
Spock
nodded, as if given an order he had no problem with. ÒYou told me to do what is best for
her. You must follow that directive
as well.Ó
Jim
sighed. ÒDo you really think IÕm
hurting her?Ó
ÒI
think ultimately you will confuse her.Ó
Spock tried to soften his eyes.
ÒAnd I do see much work ahead.
I did not anticipate how much she would relive her old memories as I
gave them back to her.Ó
ÒMust
be overwhelming.Ó
ÒWhy
do you think I am here?Ó Spock
lifted an eyebrow, was gratified to see Jim finally give him a real smile. ÒI must meditate before going back to
her.Ó
ÒIs
it that bad or that good?Ó
ÒNeither. Just...exhausting and int—Ó
ÒIntimate.Ó Jim nodded tightly. ÒI get it. Go find your bliss. I wonÕt interfere again.Ó His grin this time was only half a
smile.
Spock
wished he could do something about it, but could think of nothing that would
help.
##
Spock
ended up giving Christine more than an hour, and she seemed relaxed when he
rang for admittance. She blushed as
he passed her, and he ignored it, just indicated for her to settle back down on
the bed. Then he took his place
next to her.
ÒWhat
comes next is...unpleasant. There
are many loose connections and they are tangled. I may need you with me, so I will take
you, but you will not need to help unless I find myself at a loss.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó She sounded confused.
ÒAsk
whatever you need to.Ó
ÒI
donÕt understand the concept of taking me into my own mind.Ó
He
nodded. ÒUp to now, the meld has
consisted of me working inside your mind, while allowing you to remain a
passive participant. You have been
impacted by the memories, so in that sense it has been far from passive, but
you have not had to participate in the connection process. That will change. We will...touch within the meld. There will be a sense of sharing that
has been missing up to now.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó
ÒThe
more I bring you into it, the more I will experience what you are. Previously, I did not experience your
memories the way you did. They were
around me as I rebuilt the linkages, but I was not in them the way you
were. But with you there, I will be
in them. I will not be able to
afford you that privacy.Ó
ÒI
trust you.Ó
He
studied her, tried to find any indication that she was not telling the
truth. Could not see anything but
confidence in him. ÒAll right. Then we begin.Ó
She
reached for his hand, pulled it gently to her face, settling his fingers on her
psi points with a smile. ÒSee? Old hat.Ó
He
let his lips tick up a bit, then eased into her mind, stopping as soon as he
was in and gathering her up, bringing her slowly with him, letting her feel
what he was doing. He had left
several connections undone when he had pulled out the last time, easy ones so
she could see how he was helping.
He
felt her understanding, so he moved them to the mass of connectors that lay
before them. They had to do with
Korby, he knew. They followed
directly on her engagement, and he suspected they were dealing with his
disappearance. As he worked, slowly
untangling the pieces, he saw the first few emerge and began to put them
together. More happiness, and he
felt ChristineÕs emotions swell.
He
continued to work—the strands not wanting to come loose—as memories
played around him. Korby and
Christine talking about his upcoming mission. Her making plans to go with him,
arranging a leave of absence.
They
outfitted the ship together. Picked
the team together. He could feel
ChristineÕs sense of rightness at the memories. This had been the way it was. She was supposed to go with Roger into
deep space.
And
then he got a key strand loose and a large part of the tangle fell free.
Christine
and Roger in a doctorÕs office. A smiling woman in white. Congratulations. A baby.
He
felt a curious mix of pleasure and anger from Christine. She was supposed to go on this mission
with him. She wanted to be at his
side.
She
was happy she was pregnant, but she was young, she was just starting out, and
the man she loved was insisting she could no longer come with him. She must keep his child safe. She must stay on Earth while he went on
with the mission.
He
would leave her to have this baby alone.
Spock
stopped working, letting the emotions that were beating at him settle as Christine seemed to realize what she was
doing. He felt her apology, tried
to send back that she had nothing to be sorry for.
Then
he went to work on the last of the tangle.
It
took much longer than he expected.
The slavers appeared to have had to work hard on this, as if they had to
first find it, and then hide it again.
The connections were nearly stripped, and he had to be very careful as
he moved around them.
But
then they were free and they fell away from each other. He connected them quickly, worried they
would degrade more if he waited, and realized immediately the mistake he had
made as a surge of sorrow overcame him.
This
was not KorbyÕs disappearance. The
slavers would not have had to hide that this way—they already had it in
her mind that sheÕd lost him. This
was something else.
Korby
did disappear. And Spock felt her
grief and anger as she found out he was lost with all hands. As she realized heÕd never see his
child—his daughter sheÕd found out on her last visit to the doctor.
A
daughter she lost a month later.
SheÕd been resting after a day in the lab, when a violent cramp sent her
into the bathroom.
She
lost her last link to Korby alone in their apartment. She hadnÕt begun to show so much she
couldnÕt hide it, so she hadnÕt told anyone. She buried the hurt deep and kept it
there.
Spock
had shared consciousness with her and never even felt the first sign of it.
He
realized Christine was trying to pull away from him, caught her up and helped
her ease back from the tangle of memories.
He ended the meld, realized too late that he had acted again in haste as
she moaned and turned away from him, curling into a fetal position, huge sobs
coming from her.
ÒChristine,
turn around.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry. I know itÕs too much. You can go.Ó She tried to move away, as much as the
small bed would allow, but he pulled her back to him, spooning her as he
reached around and found the meld points again, bringing the meld back into
life, letting her emotions crash full force into him.
They
lay together as she wept, and he gave her whatever support he could, telling
her over and over again how sorry he was.
She
finally stopped crying and said, ÒYou can let the meld go.Ó
He
eased out of her mind as gently as he could, then
pulled his hand away from her. She turned over, nestled into his chest, and he
wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was trembling violently, so he let
go of her, went to the closet and got the extra blanket and then lay back down
with her, wrapping the blanket around them.
ÒIÕm
so sorry,Ó she said, her face still pressed against his chest. ÒToo much emotion, I know.Ó
ÒDo
not be.Ó He stroked her hair. ÒThere is no need.Ó
ÒYou
donÕt have to stay.Ó
ÒOn
the contrary, I very much do.Ó He
continued to stroke her hair, laid his lips on her forehead. ÒI am not leaving you.Ó
Her
sigh was ragged, and she wrapped her arm around his side tentatively, as if she
expected him to tell her to stop.
ÒShe was all I had left of him.
I was careful. Took my
vitamins. WasnÕt high risk. We should
have been fine. Her name was
Melanie. It was my grandmotherÕs
name.Ó She started to cry again,
and he held her tightly—too tightly, he thought, but she didnÕt seem to
mind, seemed to need it, even.
As
he held her, she stopped crying, and finally she fell asleep, her arm still
around him, her body pressed against him.
He held her until she woke the next morning, didnÕt leave her until he
was sure she was all right alone and then went back to his quarters to shower
and meditate.
No
matter which meditation discipline he tried, he could not get the feeling of
her grief out of his mind—or his own need to ease her pain.
##
Kirk
saw Spock come into the mess, clearly looking for him. He motioned Spock over, smiled as he sat
down. ÒYou forgot the getting
breakfast part of breakfast.Ó
ÒI
am not hungry.Ó
ÒYou
canÕt afford to get weak. Go get
some food. IÕm not going anywhere.Ó
Spock
didnÕt argue—not a good sign.
Kirk watched as he went through the line, putting odd things on his
plate. When he came back, Spock
looked down at his plate as if he was just now seeing it.
ÒI
hope you got that bacon for me?Ó
Kirk shook his head and held out his plate.
Spock
pushed it off his plate and onto KirkÕs.
ÒI do not know what I was thinking.Ó
ÒOh,
I have a pretty good idea.Ó He
smiled grimly. ÒStarts with
Chris. Ends with Tine.Ó
ÒYou
are not incorrect.Ó Spock began to
move his eggs around, which as a prelude to eating was all right, but Kirk
wanted to see some actual food to mouth action happening.
ÒEat
those, damn it.Ó
Again
Spock didnÕt seem to be aware of what he was doing. He stared at the eggs, then took a bite, chewing with the maddening Vulcan
precision that forestalled any conversation.
ÒSo,
somethingÕs got you shaken.Ó
ÒWe
are making progress.Ó
ÒThatÕs
excellent. No hitches.Ó
ÒNot
in the reconnection procedure.Ó
Kirk
knew Spock well enough to see what he wasnÕt saying. ÒCanÕt get her out of your mind, can
you? Which is ironic since youÕre
the one in her mind.Ó He played
with the home fries on his plate—he only liked the small, crispy pieces,
just settled for pushing the big pieces around when he got bored.
ÒIt
is emotionally draining.Ó
ÒI
imagine for her, too. IÕd volunteer
to take over but sadly I lack the requisite psi skills.Ó
ÒBelieve
me, Jim. I wish I could give this
to you. She and I, weÕre—Ó
ÒSpock,
stop. I know exactly whatÕs going
to happen between her and you. IÕve
known it since you started this.
Have you even reached her memories of being in love with you?Ó
Spock
shook his head.
ÒAnd
itÕs already intimate. Joy.Ó Kirk laughed softly. ÒMaybe you could rush through your five
years and linger over my six months?Ó
ÒIt
would be irresponsible of me.Ó
Kirk
met his eyes, let his go just the slightest bit
hard. ÒPlus you donÕt want to.Ó
ÒMy
desires have no bearing on—Ó
ÒPlus
you donÕt goddamn want to.Ó
Spock
looked down. ÒAnd I do not wish
to.Ó He sighed. ÒIt does me no credit.Ó He was back to pushing his eggs around,
but Kirk found himself suddenly not caring all that much if Spock ate.
He
rubbed his forehead, where he could feel a headache starting. ÒWhat do you want from me, Spock? My blessing? Fine, you have it. Go forth and fall in love.Ó
ÒThat
is not...Ó He
looked away as he trailed off.
ÒSee,
even you canÕt say itÕs not what you want.Ó He shook his head. ÒJust be fair. DonÕt gloss over my time with her, okay?Ó
ÒOf
course, Jim.Ó
Kirk
started gathering up his things onto his tray. ÒI hate to eat and run but I have a
meeting with Mister Scott. You
understand?Ó
ÒOf
course.Ó
He
leaned in. ÒI know IÕm not taking
this well, but I do want these updates to continue. IÕd rather be in the know and angry,
then blissfully ignorant.Ó
ÒUnderstood.Ó
Kirk
rose, put his hand on SpockÕs shoulder and said, ÒGood luck today,Ó then dumped
his tray and headed down to engineering, trying not to fixate on how easy it
would be to divert to guest quarters for a quick hello.
##
Spock
found Christine subdued. She
gestured to the bed, seemed little interested in small talk.
ÒIf
you prefer to wait before the next session, that would be understandable.Ó
She
met his eyes; hers were unreadable.
ÒAnd do what? Sit in this
room and think about the baby I didnÕt have? I donÕt want my memories to stop with
that. IÕm sad. It was years ago, right? We move on, just like I must have, and
IÕll get over it.Ó
He
sat down on the bed, letting her have the power of being the one standing. ÒI am not sure you ever dealt with
it. There was an occasion that you
and I shared consciousness. I do
not mean a meld. I mean that
my...essence was placed inside you for safekeeping. I sensed no trauma around losing a child.Ó
ÒDid
you go looking for that? You donÕt
strike me as the kind of guy whoÕd go rifling through someoneÕs private
thoughts for fun.Ó
ÒAdmittedly,
no. But trauma colors whole swathes
of memory. Unless
it is buried immediately.
And buried trauma is pain that has never been dealt with. This will not go away, Christine. You are just now beginning to process
this grief.Ó
She
took a deep breath, put her head back.
ÒFine. IÕm going to feel
whether I like it or not. Can we
get started anyway? IÕd still like
some other pain to distract me.
Because I doubt thereÕs a whole lot of happiness waiting.Ó
ÒWhy
do you doubt that?Ó
She
sat down next to him. ÒBecause you
would have told me there was last night.
Even if it was illogical and counterproductive to do
it. Because you are kind.Ó
She
was correct: he would have told her that last night solely to comfort her. If he had been able to
think of any particularly happy moments to give her.
ÒSee?Ó She leaned against him for a moment,
then backed up and slid into her normal place on the bed. ÒLetÕs get started.Ó
He
took off his boots and lay next to her.
It was harder getting the meld started; the grief was everywhere, new
and fresh and hurting her, and he considered simply refusing to go on, forcing
her to wait another day.
But
underneath it, he could feel something else: panic. And that concerned him. So he forged on, finding the pathways
gently, and feeling her relax around his mental touch as if she was tired of
dealing with her pain alone.
He
had little experience sharing emotions through a meld. For all the times heÕd used one to
extract information, heÕd been denied its more pleasurable use, so he was not
sure if he was going to be effective when he tried to open himself up to her,
to send her support, affection, and shared sorrow.
But
he felt her panic recede, and the din inside her mind stilled a little. The grief settled around him, still
there, but no longer seething, and he could get to work.
He
moved slowly this time, knitting the connections closed and waiting for
reactions before he moved on, but by this time Christine had buried all
thoughts of her child, had embarked on one mission and that was to find
Korby. He understood why Jim had
not been able to deny her—the level of passion, of herself, she was putting into the
quest practically guaranteed success with him.
Spock
understood why he had not taken much notice of her until the Psi 2000 virus had
forced him to. She had been
practically Vulcan up to that point in the way she conducted herself: working
long hours, spending time in the lab—working on another dissertation he
now realized—and socializing little.
He had been in the lab often, and while he had not noticed her, she had
most definitely noticed him.
And
when the Psi 2000 virus hit them, she told him how she felt. And afterwards she had tried to
apologize, and he had shut her down as quickly as he could.
Spock
sensed her mind call, which quickly grew into a shriek of protest, then he felt
her moving under his fingers—how was she able to do that? Part of the meldÕs power was to induce a
sort of paralysis. He pulled out to
the edge of the connection, heard her saying, ÒGet out, get out, get out.Ó
He
cut the meld, and she pushed him hard, knocking him off the bed. He hit the floor hard and she scrambled
over him, rushing to the other side of the room toward the bathroom.
He
let her go. If for some reason, she
needed to vomit, he was not going to interfere. If, on the other hand, she thought she
could lock herself in, he could undo that with one command to the computer.
He
did not hear her vomiting, did hear the lock engage, so he waited long enough
to give her privacy for whatever else she might need to do in there, then
walked over. ÒChristine, come out.Ó
ÒFuck
you.Ó
Not
the answer he expected. ÒComputer,
disengage bathroom door lock.Ó
The
lock unclicked. He could hear her
pushing it from her side. ÒIt will
not work, Christine. Now come
out.Ó He would give her the dignity
of not bringing her out himself.
She opened the door, saw him standing in front of her and
said,
ÒBack up.
Get away from me.Ó
He
backed up, giving her space.
She
wiped her eyes angrily, and he realized she was crying. ÒWhat is this? YouÕre not Spock. He wouldnÕt do this. He wouldnÕt want to relive that. He wouldnÕt tell me to masturbate after
giving me memories of Roger. Are
you recording this? Is this some
kind of game? You rip me apart and
now you put me back together again with the person I want most in charge of
that?Ó
He
moved around her, went into the bathroom.
ÒCome in here. Please.Ó
She
waited a long time, but she finally did.
ÒLook
at us. Are we anything like the
Spock and you of your memories?Ó
ÒWeÕre
older.Ó
ÒYes. We are. I look older than I should because of Gol—that place I told you about where I went to purge
my emotions. It was...harsh.Ó He turned to look at her actual face,
not the mirror image. ÒYou are not
the nurse you just saw. You have
changed. I have changed. And it is my job—and my choice—to
help you remember those changes.Ó
He moved closer. ÒAnd it is
my privilege, Christine.Ó
ÒWhy
do you keep pulling out the memories where IÕm in love or in pain?Ó
ÒYou
know the answer to that. What makes
us who we are? What would the
slavers have had to remove to create a woman who is only a scientist and not
Christine Chapel? The emotions.Ó
ÒThis
must be horrible for you.Ó She
turned to look at him and all the anger was gone from her eyes. He wasnÕt sure if any emotion was left. ÒYou never wanted me. I doubt that ever changed.Ó She turned and walked back into the
other room.
He
stood in the bathroom, turned and stared at his reflection for a long time. Jim needed him to not want her. Christine needed him to want
her—he thought he might lose her if he left her the way she was now.
And
what did he want? He looked down,
at his shaking hands, at where his uniform pants were suddenly too tight. He wanted her. He would not leave her when she needed
him: he had promised her that.
And
he would not leave her when he needed her, too. He had promised no one that, but it was
the way it was.
He
walked out to the other room, saw that she was on the bed, facing the wall and
went to her. He sat down, said
softly, ÒChristine, sit up.Ó
ÒGo
away.Ó
ÒI
do not want to.Ó
ÒYes,
you do. I donÕt need your pity.Ó
ÒDid
you feel in the meld what I tried to give you? The emotion I tried to share? I am not...good at sharing that
way. I have done it very few
times. But I thought you received
some of it.Ó
ÒI
thought I did, too.Ó
ÒIt
was honest emotion, Christine.
Freely given.Ó
ÒI
donÕt know whatÕs happened between us in the past that you havenÕt shown me yet. I donÕt know what history we have.Ó
ÒWe
have never been lovers. You will
see what other things have happened in our pasts, but we have never been
lovers.Ó Jim would not be happy
with how he was wording this, but he was not lying.
He
lay down beside her. ÒTurn around,
Christine. Look at me.Ó
She
did it slowly. He expected tears,
but her eyes were dry. He touched
her cheek, let his fingers run slowly down her face, down her throat, and she
closed her eyes.
ÒI
understand the appeal of non emotion to Vulcans, Spock. IÕm overwhelmed by what IÕm
feeling. The baby. RogerÕs disappearance. Now you.Ó
ÒIt
is all at once. It is too much,
that is all.Ó He tipped her chin
up. ÒYou are quite capable of
handling emotion.Ó
ÒHow
do you know that?Ó She reached out,
ran her fingers down his cheek, across the tip of his ear, causing him to moan
lightly. ÒCan you make me feel
something else? Can you make me
forget everything but you for a little while?Ó
ÒI
can.Ó He pulled her to him, kissed
her gently, not wanting to appear to be forcing her in any way since he had the
power in the room.
She
deepened the kiss, opening her mouth to him, her arms coming around him as she
pulled him on top of her and began to move under him. He groaned as she wrapped her legs
around him, ground against him, and murmured, ÒPlease, donÕt wait.Ó
She
let him go long enough for him to get their clothing off, then pulled him back
on top of her, guiding him in, and he moved almost frantically inside her,
stunned at how much he wanted her this way, no meld, just bodies, just lips,
just hands and voices and skin.
He
could feel how close she was to finishing, reached down and took her the rest
of the way, then let himself go.
They lay breathing hard, and she held him inside her with her legs and
arms wrapped tightly around him, and he kissed her softly with light kisses
that seemed to be right for the moment.
She
smiled at him. ÒOh, my.Ó
ÒIndeed.Ó
He eased off of her, pulling her
with him, so she would know he was not leaving her.
She
nestled against him. ÒYou sure
weÕve never done that before?Ó
ÒI
am sure. Perhaps we should have.Ó
ÒI
think youÕre right.Ó
He
felt a pang of guilt: this is what Jim had with her. He was supposed to be preserving his
friendÕs relationship with her, not starting his own.
But then she reached down and began stroking him. ÒSo whatÕs the refractory time for
Vulcans?Ó She smiled up at him. ÒI ask as a scientist, of course. I have no personal interest in the
matter.Ó
He
almost smiled. ÒI suggest you
continue your efforts and find out.Ó
ÒMmmm.Ó Again
the lovely smile. ÒAn experiment. You know how we scientists love
those.Ó Her smile faded.
ÒWhat?Ó
She
kissed him gently. ÒNothing about
us. ItÕs just...thereÕs a part of
me thatÕs a doctor and a scientist and then thereÕs this other part thatÕs
still a nurse.Ó
ÒBut
a nurse with more science degrees than many of the scientists on board the ship
at the time.Ó
ÒTrue. Guess IÕll stop worrying about that and
get back to my experiment.Ó She
kissed him again. ÒThank you.Ó
ÒFor
having sex with you?Ó
ÒFor
pushing back the pain. For a little
while, anyway.Ó
ÒI
will be here for that. Whenever you
need it. And not just through sex,
if you need to talk or just silence.
Meditation may help.Ó
ÒI
think sex is good for now.Ó She let
go of him. ÒUnless you want to get
to that meditating or talking?Ó
ÒPlease
resume what you were doing.Ó
ÒYeah,
thought so.Ó She did just that.
As
he closed his eyes and let her play, he tried not to imagine the disappointment
that would be on his friendÕs face.
One time with Christine was comfort. Two times was self-indulgence.
Spock
knew by the time he and Christine were done, there would be no other word for
what they were doing but betrayal.
But it was also the best thing for her.
He
doubted that would make any of them feel better about it when this was all
over.
##
Kirk
tried not to look as alone as he felt when he walked into the rec lounge. He hadnÕt seen Spock for days—not
in the mess, not in the corridors, and not on the bridge for a quick status
report. The internal pep talk he
gave himself went along the lines of Òabsence meant progress,Ó but in his heart
he was pretty sure that absence was more likely to mean sex, and lots of it.
He
saw Bones waving him over to the bar and put on the best smile he could as he
walked over.
ÒYour
usual poison, Jim?Ó Bones was
already ordering him a scotch without waiting for an answer as Kirk slumped
onto the stool next to him. ÒYou
look like shit, my friend.Ó
ÒIs
that your medical opinion, Bones?Ó
ÒYep. Then again IÕve got about three of these
under my belt so IÕm not sure anyone looks that good right now.Ó
ÒI
think everyone looks better the drunker you get.Ó
ÒNever
works that way for me. DonÕt know
why.Ó Bones lifted his glass to
Kirk as the bartender set the scotch down.
ÒHereÕs to you finally finding your balls and telling me what the hell
is going on with you and Christine.
Because in case itÕs slipped your notice—and it has not slipped
mine—she and Spock appear to have been locked up for days.Ó
ÒYouÕve
been paying attention?Ó
ÒDamn
right I have. To
them and to you. And itÕs
you IÕm worried about.Ó He shook
his head. ÒJim, what happened?Ó
ÒI
was with her on Earth. I let her go
because she was leaving anyway to report to the ship.Ó
ÒBut
then you both ended up here. Which
could be very awkward if all you wanted was a little fun, but I gotta tell you, you donÕt look
like a man who lost the gal he was having a little fun with. You look like the man who lost the woman
he loves.Ó
ÒI
do love her. But...we havenÕt been
together on this ship. ItÕs driving
her nuts. You know my rule. WeÕre...in negotiations, I guess.Ó
ÒThat
would explain her mood lately. You
know sheÕs the last person whoÕs going to understand why sleeping with the boss
is a bad thing, right?Ó
Kirk
laughed. ÒI know. I picked well, huh?Ó He finished off his scotch, tapped his
glass and the bartender hurried over and refilled it. ÒGod, what a mess.Ó
ÒLuckily
Spock doesnÕt want her, right?Ó
Bones was clearly fishing.
ÒYeah,
about that.Ó
ÒShit.Ó
ÒYep.Ó He turned to Bones, really looked at
him. ÒHeÕs been in there for three
days. No report. No break that I know of.Ó
ÒTheyÕre
having productive sessions, Jim.Ó
Bones almost sounded like he meant it.
ÒNo,
theyÕre having to-die-for sex, you idiot.
Productive sessions he gives me reports
on. He canÕt face me. He canÕt hide it, and he canÕt face me.Ó
ÒSo
he knows...about you and her?Ó
Kirk
nodded. ÒHe tried to get those
memories first. CouldnÕt.Ó
ÒSequential
is safer. For her, I mean. Not for you both. IÕm sorry, Jim.Ó
Kirk
felt the emptiness growing as he talked about it—he thought heÕd feel
better if he let some of this pain out, if he shared it. ÒI wasnÕt probably going to choose her. She knew that. She was so angry with me when she left
for the conference. HeÕll choose
her. HeÕll make it work, even
though heÕs more in her chain than I am.
ThatÕs the hell of it. How
the fuck can he make it work when I canÕt?Ó
ÒYou
wonÕt. ItÕs not that you canÕt,
itÕs that you wonÕt.Ó Bones was
looking at him with the expression that gave no quarter. ÒSheÕs your best option and you love
her, but you wonÕt let yourself.
Cut this canÕt crap.Ó
Kirk
nodded. ÒYeah. I really need to face facts, donÕt
I? Can I do it tomorrow?Ó
ÒOkay. You can do it tomorrow. Tonight, you can be morose.Ó
ÒThanks.Ó He held his glass up. ÒYouÕre a good friend.Ó
Bones
clinked his glass against it. ÒI do
my best, Jim.Ó
##
Spock
woke, Christine draped half over him, the covers kicked off the bed...again. He reached down and pulled them up,
covering them both. She woke,
easing off him, murmuring the nonsense sounds she made when she was sexually
exhausted and happy. As she rolled
to her side, he moved behind her, spooning her, finding being close to her this
way both comforting and arousing.
She
murmured, ÒI love you,Ó put her hand over his arm, and fell back to sleep.
He
lay awake, pondering what to do next.
He had, to be honest, dragged out reconnecting the linkages for the time
before she took up with Jim as long as he could. Her grief over losing Korby again had
been short lived when she had so recently been dealt the blow of losing him the
first time—and his child, something she and Spock talked often about. Something she admitted she had buried,
refusing to deal with how much it had hurt her—both that her last link to
her fiancŽ had been lost but also that her own body had betrayed her, had not
kept a child safe. Might not
again.
Spock
was ready to take the next step, to connect the linkages for when she left the Enterprise and find the memories of
Medical School and of Jim. But
there was something that came later—something Jim did not know about and
that was what Spock was unsure of.
He
checked the chrono. Time had become meaningless to Christine
and him. They melded, they had frequent
sex, they ate when they were hungry, they slept when
they were tired. They had not left
her quarters in over a week.
It
looked like alpha shift was just ending.
He
kissed her cheek, murmured, ÒI must leave for a while.Ó
ÒMmm kay.Ó She squeezed his hand and then let him
go. She was asleep again
quickly.
He
loved that about her. How easily
she slept.
Loved. It was a problem. He had fallen in love with her. He had not told her that. Would not at this point. But he had done it.
He
got out of bed and showered, then went to his quarters and changed into a fresh
uniform before going to find Jim.
He started with his quarters, found him there, working on reports.
ÒSpock?Ó There were so many emotions playing on
his friendÕs face. Surprise. Hurt. Anger. Resignation. All so fast, but Spock still saw them
because he expected them to be there.
Jim would know exactly why he had not heard from Spock in so long.
ÒMay
I sit?Ó
ÒOf
course.Ó
ÒI
am in a quandary.Ó
ÒI
imagine you are since youÕre having sex with Chris.Ó
ÒThat
is not the quandary.Ó
ÒOh,
so youÕre not having sex with her?Ó
ÒI
am. But there were reasons.Ó
Jim
smiled, and it was not a smile Spock liked. ÒOf course there were.Ó
ÒI
did not come to debate this with you.
I came to present you with options.Ó
This
seemed to surprise Jim. The hateful
smile faded. ÒAll right.Ó
ÒThere
is something you need to know. About the conference.
Christine had four informal interviews set up.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó
Spock
nodded. ÒShe was tired of your indecisiveness. Of your rule. Of the way you were holding onto her but
would not let her fully in. She had
decided to leave.Ó He took a deep
breath. ÒI normally do not preview
her memories, but in this case I did.
I wanted to know what I could do, what I would face as we came to the end.Ó
ÒYouÕre
in love with her.Ó
ÒI
am. But that may be irrelevant.Ó
ÒI
donÕt follow.Ó
ÒThe
most volatile memories in any kind of case like this are the most recent.Ó Spock met JimÕs eyes. ÒIf her memories were to stop at, say, VÕgerÕs defeat...Ó
JimÕs
face went blank.
ÒIt
would be a clean start for you, Jim.
She would not remember her anger, her frustration. You would get
a—Ó
ÒA
do over? You want to wipe her mind
like they did and give me a goddamn
do over?Ó
Spock
sat back in his seat, startled at the vehemence in his friendÕs voice. ÒIt is a simple thing to take someoneÕs
pain away.Ó
ÒMaybe
so, but it is a wrong thing to take someoneÕs memories away.Ó
Spock
looked down, not wanting Jim to see that he had done it for him, when he had
been so sad about Rayna. Had Jim not said
Òif only he could forgetÓ?
ÒThere
is another option.Ó
ÒI
probably wonÕt like this one, either.Ó
ÒPerhaps
not but I will give you all of them.
I can do this in stages.
Give her back the time when she was your lover but not the memories of
being on board the ship until you have had time together to reconnect. I will not finish the reconnections
until you are ready.Ó
ÒUntil
IÕm ready for what?Ó
ÒUntil
you feel we have had equal time. I
have been with her most recently.
It is only fair that you have a chance to refresh her memory.Ó
ÒThis
is a person weÕre talking about Spock.
ItÕs up to her.Ó
ÒI
agree. If she does not wish to go
to you once she has those memories from your time on Earth, I do not plan to
force her. But if she does want
you, I will know immediately in the meld, and I will not in any way impede
her. She was yours first and she
needs to know that. And she needs
to understand that I have done what I did knowing that.Ó
ÒThat
should be an interesting conversation.Ó
ÒNot
as interesting as the one you will have when you once again explain that you
cannot be with her despite having made love to her on this ship.Ó
JimÕs
face went white, and Spock knew he had pushed him too far, which was exactly
what he wanted.
ÒIf
you love her, Jim, then have her.
She is exceptional, why would you not want her?Ó
ÒWanting
is not the problem.Ó Jim leaned
forward. ÒThereÕs a part of me that
wishes youÕd just left her alone.
Why did you have to sleep with her?Ó
Spock
allowed himself the bitterest of smiles, saw JimÕs eyes widen in surprise. ÒDo you know why I went to Gol, Jim?Ó
ÒIÕve
never had the faintest idea how you could do that to me.Ó
ÒBecause
you wouldnÕt choose me, either. I
understand ChristineÕs position better than you might think. Why did I have to sleep with her? How could I not?Ó
ÒGet
out.Ó
ÒNo. Your final option is not on the table
yet. It is the right option, but I
leave it up to you to pick it—I will not do it for you.Ó
JimÕs
mouth was so tight his lips were white.
ÒI
take her through it all at once—lovers to the ship to the
conference. No time to level the
playing field. No time to toy with
her feelings if you will not break your rule for her. And she will remain angry with you even
though she loves you. And I will
know she loves you, but I will also know she loved me first, and now, she loves
me again. And she will choose me
and will stay on the ship.Ó
ÒAnd
IÕll have to watch that.Ó
ÒYes,
you will. Because
it is the right thing to do.
You will not choose her. But
I know that you love her. And I
also know—because I know you, Jim, and I know that you are a decent
man—that you want the best for her.
I am good for her. It
surprises me how good. And she is
good for me. If her love for you is
greater than her love for me, then she and I will not endure. But we may endure. And you will grow used to that.Ó
Jim
got up and walked to the viewscreen. He put his hand on the wall, leaned his
head against the sill. ÒThis ship,
sheÕs like a wife.Ó
ÒShe
is not a wife.Ó
ÒAnd
youÕre like the devil. Offering me
everything, almost everything, or nothing.Ó
ÒAnd
you wonÕt even address what I said to you.
About why I left for Gol.Ó
ÒIs
there a reason to? At this point?
Is there any goddamn reason to?Ó
He started to laugh as he looked out at the stars. ÒDo you think IÕll invite you both into
my bed? I wonÕt chance a scandal
with one lover but, hey, no one will notice the captainÕs involved in a
threesome.Ó
Spock
was stung. ÒI merely wished to talk
about how I felt.Ó
ÒGo
talk to Chris about how you fucking feel.
And I take option three, because youÕre right: itÕs the correct thing to
do. Give her all her goddamn
memories of me back. And then let
her have at me.Ó
Spock
sighed. ÒAs you wish.Ó
ÒItÕs
not as I wish. ItÕs just how it
is.Ó He didnÕt turn around as he
gently said, ÒYouÕre dismissed, Spock.Ó
##
Kirk
was on the bridge when Spock reported back for duty. He motioned him over before he could
head to the science station. ÒItÕs
done?Ó
Spock
nodded.
ÒIs
she all right?Ó
ÒAngry.Ó
ÒAt
both of us?Ó He found he really
wanted the answer to be yes.
ÒLess
so at me.Ó
Damn. He gave Spock a tight
grin. ÒWell, I look forward to the
inevitable confrontation. Thank you
for getting her back.Ó
Spock
nodded, but there was an odd look in his eyes, then he turned and walked to his
station.
Kirk
weighed his options. He could let
her come to him, loaded for bear, or he could bring the fight to her. He vastly preferred that option. He got up. ÒMister Spock, you have the conn.Ó
He
saw the warning in SpockÕs eyes and ignored it. He headed to his quarters and hit the
intercom as soon as he got there.
ÒKirk to Chapel.Ó
ÒChapel
here.Ó
ÒAre
you able to break away?Ó It was
their old code for sex and unfair to use against her, which is why he did it.
ÒWhere
are you?Ó
ÒMy
office.Ó Which sounded infinitely
better than his quarters.
ÒBe
right there.Ó Her voice was tight.
A
few minutes later his chime sounded, and he stood, arms crossed, leaning on the
viewscreen and said, ÒCome.Ó
She
walked in. ÒFirst, thanks for
rescuing me.Ó
ÒYouÕre
welcome.Ó
ÒSecond,
thanks for not taking advantage of me when I had no idea who you were.Ó
ÒYou
made that much harder to do.Ó
She
smiled. ÒI remember. DidnÕt lose any of those memories as I
got the others back.Ó
He
started to move toward her and she held her hand up.
ÒI
get to talk, Jim. Before you say
shit, I get to talk. And itÕs
this. Spock told me about the three
options. He told me you had no
difficulty choosing the right one.Ó
He
wasnÕt sure what to say—it had never occurred to him Spock would tell her
that he had any choice in how her memories of him went.
ÒSpockÕs trying to do the right thing here. For you. Because he loves you. Because he knows what itÕs like to love
you. And to not
have you. He thinks I canÕt
read that from the melds, but I can.
But hereÕs the thing: I canÕt have you, either. Right?Ó
This wasnÕt going the way he thought.
HeÕd expected a fight, not this gentle Chris, who didnÕt seem to be
angry, just resigned.
ÒJim. If Spock or I can have you, just tell
me. One of us will get of the way
for the other. And thatÕs saying a
lot because he and I are really fucking good together. But I donÕt think we can have you and
neither does he, and thatÕs why I think he and are so good together. Does that make sense?Ó
He
nodded.
ÒHe
didnÕt even want me till I was yours.Ó
She came closer. ÒI was
going to leave you. I had
interviews set up. I had
options. But now...I have
Spock.Ó She walked to him, touched
his cheek lightly. ÒAnd you, my
love, have this ship. Who will
slowly suck the life out of you. Just like she did before.Ó
ÒI
love you.Ó
ÒI
know you do. You found me. You saved me. And you gave me to the other person you
love. And youÕre the biggest idiot
IÕve ever met.Ó She moved into his
arms and he kissed her, tried to turn her, to hike her up onto the viewscreen ledge, but she said, ÒNo, Jim. You get all of me or you get none of
me. ThatÕs how it works now. I love you too much to not demand
that. I love Spock too much not
to.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó He leaned his forehead against her. ÒI love you both.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó She kissed his cheek. ÒWe can stay or we can go. Whatever you want. Think about it.Ó
He
nodded.
She
turned and walked away, never looking back, and he watched her until the doors
swallowed her and he was alone.
Alone.
He
took a deep breath, felt the pulse of the ship under his feet.
Never quite alone.
He
went back up to the bridge, met SpockÕs worried eyes,
and smiled. ÒAll good.Ó
That
clearly did not translate into ÒYou can keep my woman,Ó so he said, ÒShe set me
straight. Enjoy each other. Here, on the ship. My friend.Ó
SpockÕs
eyes grew extraordinarily gentle.
ÒI will always be that, Jim.Ó
ÒIÕll
hold you to it. Now, get out of my
damn chair.Ó
FIN