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    Strangers from the Sky

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      he needed to know. He leaned toward Kirk now, his

      long fingers moving gently toward the familiar

      places, seeking the familiar paths.

      "If I may . . ." he began.

      "What is this "if I may"?" Kirk

      demanded, feinting as if to avoid Spock's Touch,

      laughing at the relief that flooded his soul. "Since

      when have you needed permission?"

      "Indeed," the Vulcan said, and Reached.

      When he withdrew his hand, and with it his mind,

      Kirk grew very still.

      "That's incredible!" he said.

      "Is it?" Spock asked mildly. "What you and

      I have experienced has always stretched the bounds of

      ordinary credulity. This is no exception."

      "You're right," Kirk acknowledged. "God, I

      hope you're right! It doesn't give me any

      answers, but at least I know I'm not crazy."

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      "That sloes it!"

      Their harmony was shattered by Krista

      Sivertsen's sharp take-charge voice.

      "You simply on taking risks, don't you?" she

      flared at Kirk, charging into the room, ignoring

      Spock entirely. "First the Dreaming, now this! One

      of my aides was observing from the booth."

      She nodded toward one of the suspect mirrors.

      "And she called me." She turned on Spock,

      furious. "I suppose you've already done your

      damage?"

      "There has been no damage of my causing,

      Dr. Sivertsen," Spock replied coolly.

      "However, unless Admiral Kirk is released from

      this facility inunediately to seek an

      alternate form of cure, certain irreparable

      damage may ensue."

      "I know you have a great many talents, Captain

      Spock," Krista said icily. "But I had no

      idea an expertise in psychology was among them!"

      ""It is not," Spock said evenly. "None

      is needed in this instance. Admiral Kirk's

      difficulty is not psychological in origin. He

      is not insane."

      ("Never try to second-guess a Vulcan,"

      her best friend Liz had once written to Krista,

      years ago when she'd taken her first deepspace

      assignment, transferred from the Aldebaran

      Colony to serve on a ship with a Vulcan first

      officer. "They'll outflank you before you can shake your

      argument out of the mid-brain."

      Krista still kept all of Liz's letter-disks, still

      remembered all of Liz's pearls of wisdom.

      They'd been roommates during their internship,

      looked enough alike to be mistaken for sisters.

      Krista had adored Liz, treasured her

      sharp-cornered advice. But an innate restlessness

      had driven Liz offworld, and she had died not long after

      she'd left Aldebaran for her first starship

      assignment.)

      But this was neither the time nor the place to resurrect

      those memories. Krista Sivertsen took a deep

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      breath and readied herself. She would not

      second-guess this particular Vulca tilde Liz

      had learned about him and his kind too late to save

      herself but she wouldn't let him outflank her either.

      "The term 'insane" is considered somewhat archaic

      in modern psychology, Captain Spock," she

      began, buying time as she showed him into her office.

      Kirk had agreed to wait outside; whatever else

      could be said about a Vulcan mind-meld, it seemed

      to have a calming effect upon the human participant.

      "We feel it has a connotation of hopelessness which,

      under

      contemporary advances in the field his

      "Whatever euphemism those in your profession

      currently employ," Spock cut her off, "the

      fact remains: Admiral Kirk is not insane."

      "Would you care to look at his psychoscan?"

      Krista demanded heatedly. She could not abide

      amateurs, regardless of their species. "Or perhaps

      you'd like to read the transcript of my report on his

      condition, or a tape of this morning's

      hypnosis?"

      Spock said nothing; his face told her nothing.

      She had the facts at her disposal. Why did she

      feel as if she were up to her ankles in quicksand?

      "I know you're a close friend of Jim

      Kirk's," she said, trying the reasonable approach.

      "And I respect that. But if you think you can

      persuade me on that basis his

      "It would never occur to me," Spock said

      mildly.

      What was his game? Krista wondered, groping.

      Her field was human psychology; she was out of her

      depth with Vulcans and this one seemed to know it. She

      felt the metaphorical quicksand creeping up to her

      knees.

      "If you think you can pull rank on me, you can

      forget that, too. You're on my turf here, and my

      orders are to keep Jim Kirk confined "until

      he is completely and permanently cured,"

      unquote. And they're signed by the Old Man

      himself."

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      Spock seemed to weigh this.

      "Was the order deactivating

      Admiral Kirk's transceiver also signed

      by Admiral Nogura?"

      "It was."

      "May I ask why?"

      "As a security measure. I'm sure you're

      familiar with the procedure. And to spare Kirk any

      unnecessary disturbances during the course of treatment."

      "Meaning messages from Dr. Nayingul or

      myself."

      "If you want to look at it that way."

      "I shall have to persuade Admiral Nogura

      to rethink his decision," Spock said with utter

      equanimity, and Krista had no doubt he was one

      of the two people on the planet who could. "However, that is

      inconsequential at present. Dr. Sivertsen,

      I have heard your arguments regarding Admiral

      Kirk's condition. Will you grant me the courtesy of

      hearing mine?"

      "I have the facts on my side, Captain, and

      I won't be budged. No one suffering such severe

      delusional nightmares will be allowed to leave this

      facility as long as I'm a member of the staff."

      Spock appeared to arrive at a decision.

      "Very well, doctor. Then I suggest you commit

      me to your facility as well. I have

      experienced the same nightmares."

      Krista Sivertsen watched the results of

      Spock's psychoscan come up on her screen.

      When she had adjusted the readout for Vulcan

      Norm, it showed the same mnemonic dysfunction as

      Kirk's.

      "I thought you were bluffing," she said.

      Spock resisted the obvious response. The

      psychiatrist was staring at the readout in disbelief.

      "I've never seen anything like this. The odds against it

      must be astronomical." Spock resisted

      responding to this as well. "Maybe it's what you

      get for messing around in mere human minds with your

      Vulcan techniques." She turned off the

      screen, as if not seeing the

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      readout before her would somehow make it less

      uncanny. "I don't understand how this is possible.

      I understand even less the point of this Py
    rrhic

      victory of yours, but it looks as if you'll be

      keeping the admiral company. I'll see you get

      adjoining rooms."

      "Then I trust you have a Vulcan healer

      on-staff?" Spock inquired mildly.

      "This is Earth!" Krista Sivertsen said

      incredulously. "There are probably fewer than

      a dozen Vulcan healers on the entire planet,

      and to my knowledge none of them is a practising

      psychiatrist. Tradition has it your people don't

      suffer psychological disorders, but the evidence I

      have on that scan says otherwise."

      "Seven," Spock said quietly.

      "Come agam?"

      "There are at present seven Vulcan healers in

      residence within the sol system, including Luna and the

      Martian Colonies, and none is a

      practising psychiatrist," Spock said. "The

      nearest healer so qualified is T'Sri of

      Rigel XII, and assuming she were immediately

      available, she could not arrive on Earth in less

      than seventeen Standard days.

      "Consequently, doctor, unless you or someone on

      your staff possesses a degree in

      xenopsychology, you cannot keep me here.

      "Why, you cold-blooded, manipulative . .

      .!" Krista Sivertsen flared, losing her cool

      entirely. "What the hell do you want from me?"

      Spock told her.

      "Forty-eight hours, no more," she told

      McCoy when she'd sent for him. "They'll be in your

      custody. They're not to leave Kirk's apartment, and

      you're not to let them out of your sight. If you need a

      couple of security guards His

      "Of course not!" McCoy blustered, not quite sure

      of that himself, considering the hijinks these two had pulled

      on him in the past.

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      "Forty-eight hours," Krista repeated.

      "Sooner if you see any indications of crisis.

      If they can't work their miracle in that much time his

      "You'll have them back," McCoy promised,

      hoping against hope that whatever his two charges were up

      to would work.

      Krista delivered them to him at the Admissions

      desk with a kind of relief.

      "Liz was right," she said to McCoy. "She always

      said, 'ationever try to second-guess a Vulcan."

      I should have listened."

      "Yes, Liz always was good with the homey little

      Earthisms, wasn't she?" McCoy said sadly;

      obviously he knew who Krista was talking about if

      the other two didn't. He eyed Spock

      sceptically. "Pity I never had the

      benefit of that particular one. Might have saved me a

      decade or two of aggravation. Poor Liz!"

      "A mutual friend?" Kirk asked, making

      conversation as they walked across the MedArts

      quadrangle. Now that Krista was no longer his

      shrink, at least for the next forty-eight hours, he

      could devote his full appreciation to her as a

      person.

      "Friend of Krista's," McCoy specified.

      "Briefly a student of mine. Brilliant

      girl, untimely death. Come to think of it, Jim, you

      knew her, too."

      "Did I?"

      Kirk searched his no-longer-to-be-trusted

      memory for another lady psychiatrist. He'd

      gone through a phase where he'd found professional

      women Ruth, Carol, Janet, Areel

      particularly attractive, but as far as he knew

      "She was assigned as Enterprise's staff

      psychiatrist when she died, Admiral," Krista

      said, keeping her voice level, her tone free of

      accusation.

      "Liz," Kirk mused. "Elizabeth. Not . .

      .?"

      "Elizabeth Dehner." Krista's

      voice trembled slightly, though her face would have

      done a Vulcan proud.

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      Kirk was less fortunate. The mention of the name

      froze him barely inches from freedom.

      McCoy noticed the impact immediately, wished

      he'd kept his mouth shut. Liz Dehner would always

      be irrevocably linked with Gary Mitchell in

      Kirk's mind. To remind Kirk of Gary now, when

      he was so vulnerable . . .

      But Kirk wasn't thinking of Mitchell at

      all. What had him nonplussed was a memory of

      Elizabeth Dehner before the incident on Delta

      Vega, a moment of deja-vu that all but

      announced itself by a lightbulb over his head. An

      instant before it had not existed in any reality he

      knew.

      "Elizabeth Dehner," he said incredulously,

      "is the blonde in the dreams. Spock, the voice

      his

      The Vulcan also stood transfixed, seemed

      to shake off some private reverie. "Yes. Yes,

      indeed!"

      "Spock!" Kirk said, groping for

      something. "The landing party on M-155 . . . the

      Planet That Wasn't There. his

      "Interesting," the Vulcan said slowly. "A

      possibility.

      McCoy, standing between them, felt his hair stand on

      end as if he were about to be struck by lightning. He

      had no idea what had just

      happened, but if it had anything to do with what they had

      less than forty-eight hours to solve, he was

      hardly going to let it take place here. Krista was

      looking at both of his friends as if she were strongly

      tempted to change her mind.

      "Jim," McCoy interceded, grabbing his arm.

      "Spock, save your thought. Our meter's running."

      "Bones, you really could take the time off," Kirk

      said winningly, over the ticking of his multitude of

      antique clocks. "We'll be good."

      "Not likely!" McCoy growled, rattling around

      in Kirk's minuscule kitchen. "Don't you ever

      buy any real

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      food? Goddamn synthesised,

      reconstituted..." He emerged finally with a prefab

      sandwich and a glass of amber liquid in his

      hand. "At least your bourbon's real. Where's

      Spock?"

      "Talking to Galarrwny on the bedroom screen,"

      Kirk said distractedly, wondering what part of his

      brain the two were dissecting in his absence. "Did you

      think he'd shimmied down a drainpipe? It's over

      fifty stories to the street."

      "I wouldn't put it past him! Can we get on with

      this? The more I think of baby-sitting you renegades for

      two entire days I should have taken Krista up on

      her offer of security guards. Posted one at the

      front door and another in here to relieve me. I

      can see where I'm gonna have to watch the pair of you in

      my sleep."

      "Considering the usual stentorian clamor which

      accompanies that activity on your part," Spock

      re- marked, emerging from the bedroom, "it is

      unlikely any of us will derive much rest from this

      experience."

      "Don't start with me!" McCoy began, but

      Kirk cut him off.

      "Bones, our meter's running. Spock,

      what've we got?"

      Spock settled himself by the inactive fireplace

      between Kirk and McCoy.

      "The facts are these, Jim: you and I have,

      simultaneously and in the absence of


      communication, experienced a series of dreams

      relating to a particular event in Earth's history

      previously unknown to us. This in itself is neither

      surprising nor especially alarming. Doubtless many

      individuals, upon reading Strangers from the Sky, were

      sufficiently intrigued by its premise

      to incorporate it into their dreams."

      "Krista said it was bringing the weirdos out in

      droves," McCoy remarked, fiddling with his

      medical tricorder. He Iooked at Kirk.

      "Sorry!"

      "However," Spock went on as if McCoy had

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

      spoken, "that which began as dream soon

      increased in frequency and intensity, becoming more

      immediate, more "real," if you will, than our waking

      lives. There was a sense that we were involved with these

      historical personages, knew them intimately,

      including details that were not present in the book.

      There was also a growing sense of ominousness, of something

      indefinable gone awry. And there is more."

      He watched McCoy fuss with the

      tricorder, preparatory to recording everything that

      transpired in this room for the next two

      days though he would, of course, only pick up

      fragments of what had happened through the mind-meld as

      evidence for Krista Sivertsen's files.

      McCoy noticed the prolonged silence.

      "Go on, go on, I'm listening!"

      "Several of our dreams do not overlap, but remain

      separate to each of us," Spock continued. "As if

      we were interacting with different individuals at

      different times. These separate dreams are totally in

      keeping with our

      personalities. You, Jim, engage in a

      tennis match with Melody Sawyer, with all of its

      subsequent consequences, whereas I his

      He glanced again at McCoy or, more

      accurately, at the intrusive presence of the

      tricorder, and hesitated.

      "What is it, Spock?" Kirk urged him

      gently. "If it's too personal his

      "I," Spock said slowly, "dreamed -- about my

      mother."

      Briefly he told them the content of his

      dialogue with Amanda.

      "Dreamed about your mother, did you?"

      McCoy asked, sensing Spock's embarrassment,

      trying to bluster his way around it. "So what? A little

      of the old human nature creeping in. Even you must

      let your guard down during a REM cycle. Or

      are you going to tell me Vulcans have an Oedipus

      myth?"

      "Doctor his

      STRANGERS FROM THE SKY

     


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