S T SHOWCASE II
Published by:Sharon Emily
First Printing February 1975
by Sharon Emily
To the Great Bird of the Galaxy - who hatched out "Star Trek" to begin with....
"...the fact is, in the future you and the Klingons will become fast friends. You will work together...." (Ayelborn to Kirk and Kor in "Errand of Mercy", written by Gene Coon, Revised Final Draft, January 23, 1967.)
A special note of thanks to Melinda Shreve for helping me obtain the necessary offset printing for certain pages. Also, a special thanks to my husband and daughter for enduring the fuss and furor of getting out another fanzine....
FRIEND HUSBAND: Sharon, you're always having a fit because I'm using the typewriter. Why do you need it so much?
YE OLD EDITOR: Well, for one thing, to answer letters about "The Misfit."
YOE: The greater majority seemed to. Mind if I get back to my typing now?
FH: Uh, you know, of late, you've been typing so much that I'm afraid the house resembles a disaster area.... Before that, you kept staring into space and doing a lot of scribbling....
YOE: Ming! Get off those stencils, you frazzlin' Siamese!
FH: STENCILS! Oh no...don't tell me you're with book again! I thought "Showcase" was a one-shot fanzine?
YOE: Can I help it if I found another round of ammunition?
FH: Ye Gods! But, why fight it? Mind if I look over your shoulder?
YOE: Not at all. Maybe you can help me do a
better job of finding the typos than I did with "Showcase I"....
By: Sharon Emily
(Reprinted by request. The following was edited by the author from a similar story which appeared last year in The Worksheet. Permission for reprinting and editing granted by Claire Mason, publisher.)
Captain James T. Kirk crumpled the orders he'd just finished reading. He wanted to curse, but none of the words in his vocabulary seemed strong enough to adequately express his emotions. He settled for slamming the switch of the communicator: "Captain Kirk to Mr. Spock!"
"Spock here, Captain."
"Get someone to take over your station and come to my quarters on the double! We have a problem to discuss...."
"Fascinating!" Spock commented after he'd read the orders. "However, when you reported our experiences on Planet 892 IV, you wondered if Star Fleet Command would 'get ideas'...."
"And, just as I feared, they want us to return to the 'Guardian of Forever' - to send an observer to First Century Palestine in search of the person called 'Jesus of Nazareth,' believed to be the 'Son of God'!" Kirk exclaimed angrily. "So much of what we have today was brought about by the principles and ideals engendered by Judaic-Christian monotheism, I.... Spock, do we dare go back...?"
"Are you afraid that we might find that there was no 'Christ,' Captain?" Spock asked calmly. "Religious movements which have made such great impacts could not have just - happened. Someone formulated the original ideas and beliefs, which gradually evolved into what is now known as 'Christianity.' However, I sincerely doubt that there was any supernatural being such as the one who figures so prominently in Earth's legends."
"Whatever, or Whoever He was, He definitely was ahead of His time..." mused Kirk.
"What do you mean?" Kirk demanded angrily.
"Captain, surely other intelligent beings found the 'Guardian' before we did. There are the Organians, for example. Also, there were many pioneers who vanished without a trace when Earth began her early explorations of interstellar...."
"No, Spock!" Kirk gasped. "I'd sooner disobey my orders than to risk sending someone back to confirm something like that!"
"Captain," the Vulcan's voice was stern. "Now that you have allowed this doubt to enter your mind, will you ever be at peace with yourself if you do not learn the truth? Will you - Jim?"
"No," Kirk said tonelessly. "You're right; I'll have to send someone.... But - who?"
"Only one individual aboard the Enterprise is capable of making observations without allowing emotion to cloud the issue."
"In other words, you? Spock, can even you be purely objective in this situation?"
"Yes, for I neither believe nor disbelieve. I am merely interested in this opportunity to solve a riddle which has puzzled intelligent minds for centuries."
The Enterprise assumed Standard orbit over the 'Guardian's' planet at a time which would correspond with dawn on Earth, so hardly anyone was in the corridors to see the tall, saturnine First Officer striding toward the transporter room - dressed as a beggar of First Century Palestine.
Spock looked neither to the right nor to the left as he advanced along the corridor. The Captain would give him a final briefing in the transporter room. Most likely, Doctor McCoy would also be waiting to give him one last inoculation in an effort to protect him from any stray microbes that might seek to invade his system - and to protect the people of Palestine from anything that he might take back with him.
The First Officer lifted his arm to examine a small, mole-like nodule on his forearm. Even he couldn't refrain from admiring the skill which had created such an infinitely tiny but totally efficient Universal Translator. Thanks to it - and to the thorough indoctrination of the customs of the era to which he would be going - he should have little difficulty, as long as he kept his head covered. However, beggars were not expected to maintain strict observance of Judaic customs, and he would be outdoors most....
"Mr. Spock," a feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. He paused and looked up.
Christine Chapel, eyes dark with tension, stood in the shadows near the transporter room.
"Could whatever you wish to discuss wait until later, Miss Chapel?" he said, using the same tone of dispassionate courtesy that he always employed whenever he spoke to her. "I am pressed for time."
"I know, but what I have to say shouldn't keep you more than a minute. Surely that isn't too much to ask?"
"Very well," he sighed. "What is it?"
"I've been hearing some very disturbing rumors, and that costume you're wearing seems to confirm.... Mr. Spock, is it true? Are, you going through the 'Guardian' to try to find the one named 'Jesus of Nazareth'?"
"I am," he said quietly, his gaze intent upon her upturned face, noting the pain which appeared in her eyes when she heard his affirmation.
"No!" she protested, grasping his arm without being aware of it. "Mr. Spock, you could destroy countless lives.... Please, don't go."
"Nurse!" he said sternly, holding his arm rigid beneath her fingers. "Star Fleet Command has ordered us to seek the truth. I have no choice except to discharge my duty and responsibility...."
" 'Duty'! 'Responsibility'!" Christine retorted. "Your answers to everything. What if that information might destroy the faith which has acted as a catalyst for the great humanitarian progress on Earth and other planets?"
Spock knew that his answer would wound Christine deeply. It wasn't his wish to inflict this hurt, but she'd given him little choice. He moved to free his arm then he spoke: "Nurse, look at me. Now, tell me this: What use is faith if it has nothing...?"
"What use is anything without some kind of faith?" she retreated from him, her eyes blazing. "I should have known better than to hope that you would understand. Faith is about the only thing I have left.... If you - if you take that away from me.... Mr. Spock, I'll - I'll hate you as long as I live!" Rather than let him see her tears, she fled.
Spock turned after a moment and headed for the transporter room.
"You're late, Spock!" Kirk snapped.
"An unavoidable delay, Captain."
"No matter. You've pin-pointed the time for your jump?"
"Yes. I regret that I cannot take equipment with me which would enable me to communicate directly with the Enterprise."
"We'll have to make do with the readings you bring back. Remember, you'll have to take great care to keep the tricorder concealed."
"Captain, I assure you that I shall avoid doing anything which will change history as we know it." Spock replied somewhat stiffly.
A final word or two of instruction from Kirk; a verbal needle from McCoy, as well as a touch from the hypo-spray, and Spock's journey began.
The First Officer joined a group of beggars heading toward the capital city to take advantage of the generosity of pilgrims coming to observe one of their national religious holidays.
No one asked him any questions - what mattered one more beggar among so many? Nor did he ask any questions because he wished to avoid arousing anyone's suspicions. However, he listened and took careful readings at every opportunity.
During the two days that he spent with the beggars, Spock awaited some comment concerning the man named "Jesus." He heard nothing - except mutterings against the Roman conquerors and speculations as to what would happen when the "Messiah" promised for so long should come. Not once did he hear any mention of a teacher from Nazareth; nor did he mention the matter himself - it might create a paradox should there be no such individual.
At last, the group reached a city named Jericho. While the others went inside the walls to forage for food, Spock settled into a vantage point near the gate and took readings before he began to listen and to observe.
Faugh! he thought, feeling disgust in spite of his Vulcan training and self-control. I was trained in the language and the customs of this time, but no one remembered to warn me about the smells! How could any intelligent being bear to live in such adverse conditions? Look at that one - quite blind and helpless. He is unable to do anything except beg. Why has no one bothered to find a cure for his affliction? Surely someone could at least train him to be a productive member of this society?
Later, he saw a huge crowd of pilgrims approaching the city. Someone said that these were people from the Northern part of the nation, journeying to their Holy City - Jerusalem - where they would observe the religious holiday, which they called the "Passover."
Before long, Spock found himself on the outskirts of a vast, jostling throng, nearly blinded by dust curling up from hundreds of sandaled feet. It was then, when visibility was at its worst, that he obtained his first bit of real evidence:
"Yeshua. Rabbi Yeshua!" an old man's voice cried. "Have mercy on me, Son of David!"
"'Yeshua.' Jesus!" Spock leaped to his feet and fought to get through the crowd, trying to find out what was happening. There was the sound of a concentrated gasp from the crowd then Spock heard the old man crying out that he could see. The crowd moved on - leaving the formerly blind man standing before the gate, gazing in wonder at a world that had been hidden from him until now.
Spock took advantage of the man's bewilderment and made a swift reading. He'd confirmed the man's blindness during that earlier survey.... Yes, this man was now able to see.
"What happened here, old man?" Spock asked, feigning the curiosity of any man of the streets - and concealing the tricorder as he made a record of their conversation.
"I was blind, but now I see!"
"Indeed? Were you truly blind...?"
"Ask any of the people here - they will tell you that old Bartame has been blind for longer than even he can remember!"
"And this 'Son of David' who helped you? Is he some great physician...?"
"'Physician?' Nay, he is more than that! The Rabbi Yeshua of Nazareth is a great healer, but he does not make use of nostrums and remedies. He just touched me and told me that my faith would heal me - and behold - it is so! God of our Fathers! Has the Messiah come at last?"
Spock moved on, pondering this startling experience, which had been described in an ancient book of Earth, a book called the "New Testament." So, Yeshua (or, as the more familiar translations read, "Jesus") did exist in this time and was able to heal! But, with what did he heal? A hypo-spray concealed in the palm of one hand, perhaps?
The only way Spock could answer this question was by going to Jerusalem. The city was in an uproar when he got there, and the source appeared to be the Temple itself. It seemed that the Rabbi from Nazareth had been there earlier and had driven the merchants and money changers out. Naturally, the Rabbi was now a marked man...but he'd apparently vanished as soon as the Temple guards had tried to capture him, and no one knew where he might have gone.
Spock wandered the streets of the city for as long as he could stand it. Eventually, he turned his steps toward the outskirts of the city, seeking the solitude that he so desperately needed to replenish his inner reserves.
He came upon a grove of olive trees growing upon a mountainside. The soft hush of the grove in this first hour of darkness was exactly what he wanted. Choosing a sheltered spot beneath a gnarled tree near a clearing, he wrapped his ragged cloak about his shoulders. This coolness was most uncomfortable to one who had been raised in Vulcan's torrid heat. Sleep was unnecessary, but Spock did will his muscles to relax while he considered all that he'd seen and heard. Suddenly, he heard a voice:
"There! I told you he would spend the night here. The priests will surely give a princely sum to anyone who kills him after what he did today. He seems to be alone; this is our chance to take his life without danger to us!"
Spock rose and followed the intruders silently, guided by the sounds of their breathing as they crept toward the unsuspecting man who was kneeling by a flat rock in the clearing. The Vulcan couldn't betray his presence. He wouldn't act unless he could be sure that whatever he did wouldn't break the Federation's Law of Non-Interference - the Prime Directive. Yet, if that man were the Rabbi of Nazareth, and if those men succeeded in killing him now, what would become of the culture, which had been founded upon the belief in the man who had died upon a cross? The men solved Spock's problem when they crept up behind the unsuspecting man, daggers high in their hands. Two against one - and that one unarmed? Most unreasonable odds!
"Behind you!" Spock shouted as he rushed toward the clearing. One of the would-be assassins flung himself at Spock. The Vulcan had the advantage of inhuman strength, but his opponent was a hulking brute who gave good account of himself - and he wasn't hampered by a deeply-grained reverence for life. At last, Spock saw a chance for application of the nerve-pinch and reached out. It was then that his foot struck a loose stone which rolled beneath him and threw him slightly off-balance.
It was enough. Something bright flashed toward him then he felt an agonizing pain in his heart as an alarming weakness took possession of him. Reacting instinctively, he pressed his hand against his side, and his fingers closed over the hilt of a dagger.
His knees shook in spite of his efforts to ignore the pain, to discipline his body against the effects of this attack upon his person. Not even his Vulcan strength could keep his blood from spurting around the dagger, however.
He heard the sound of men running from the clearing, but the moon had gone behind a cloud, and he could see nothing.
Weakness and pain swept over him with a force too powerful to resist. He sank to his knees and allowed his breath to escape in a single, almost-sobbing sigh. "I-is this how death must come?" he moaned, unaware that he was speaking aloud. "When I am alone - parted from those who - have come as near to me - as I could dare allow...?" He fell backwards as his strength left him completely.
There was a moment of shattering agony then his dying mind created one last illusion. He seemed to be hovering at the edge of a fathomless abyss, and a mighty force was tugging at him, pulling him toward that chill, black void. There was nothing he could cling to, no way to resist.
No! the cry rang unspoken within the depths of his mind - whether in protest or entreaty even he didn't know. There is too much for me to do...! Death at this time is illogical....
He felt himself slipping over, the edge.
A voice? A hand touching him? Had the Captain come through the 'Guardian' to find him? Would he get him back to the Enterprise in time?
"Spock! You must not yield. Father! Grant me his life."
The Vulcan could hear the voice clearly now. It wasn't Kirk's; it belonged to a stranger. However, those warm, musical tones seemed to drive away the coldness, which surrounded him. He could almost wish the stranger would speak again....
The illusion of the abyss faded, and pain became the only reality. Pain, which increased when someone drew the dagger from the wound then a strong hand pressed against his side. After a moment, a sensation of tingling warmth spread from that hand throughout Spock's entire body and the pain ebbed to a dull ache. He took a deep breath then he opened his eyes and looked up at the man who was bending over him.
"No, lie still," the stranger warned when Spock tried to sit up. "You are weak. Sleep and regain your strength. I shall keep watch."
"I - I do not need to sleep!" Spock protested as he tried to rise, but the stranger laid his hands upon the Vulcan's shoulders and held him down easily. Once again, Spock felt that strange tingling warmth; it was almost as if some magnetic or electrical force were passing from this man's hands into his flesh, easing the tension of pain which knotted the Vulcan's muscles. The stranger lifted one hand and laid it against Spock's face - near his jaw - and the Vulcan sank helplessly into a dreamless slumber in response to the warmth, which seemed to be radiating from that gentle, but strong hand....
The moon was no longer hidden by clouds when Spock awakened. He sat up quickly. He wasn't alone. The stranger was seated upon the flat rock in the clearing - keeping watch, as he'd promised.
The Vulcan rose slowly, but there was no stab of pain in his side. He pressed his fingers against the green stained rent in his robe then lifted one eyebrow. The wound had been a bad one; indeed, since Doctor McCoy was totally beyond reach, it should have been fatal. But he had not died. His sensitive fingers traced the outlines of a barely healed scar where his life's-blood had been escaping only a short while before. But the stranger had used no hypo-spray, nor any form of medication. Instead, he'd merely laid his hand over the wound. Had it been some form of empathic healing such as that employed by the woman, Gem?
"There is ample room for both of us to sit here - Mr. Spock."
The First Officer's brow lifted higher. So, he had heard the stranger calling him by his true name earlier! After a moment, the Vulcan moved forward and then stood at attention, studying the stranger intently. "Are you all right?" he demanded courteously.
"Yes, I am quite safe, Mr. Spock. Those men could not have hurt me, for my hour has not yet come."
"They were trying their best. You should not have been here alone; surely you knew that someone might try...."
"If it had been necessary, my Father would have sent His angels to protect me."
"I saw no 'angels.' There was only myself...."
"Apparently, my Father sent you instead. Thank you, Mr. Spock."
"You seem to know my name," the Vulcan said coldly. "May I know yours?"
"I am named Yeshua, but you know me better as - 'Jesus.' I answer to both." There was a definite note of tender amusement in that warm voice.
"'Jesus'?" Spock echoed. "Of - Nazareth?"
"Of Nazareth," the Rabbi confirmed but volunteered nothing more.
The Vulcan studied the features of this individual whom many Earthmen believed was the "Son of God". The Rabbi's features were clean-cut, revealing a courage and a determination similar to that visible in Captain Kirk's face. However, this man's face revealed none of the hint of ruthlessness and stubborn self-will, which Spock had sometimes glimpsed in Kirk's face. This was a good face; a strong face; a face well suited to one who had been given the title of "Master."
"Please, sit down, Mr. Spock," the Rabbi invited. "Tell me, how do you feel, now that you have rested?"
"Quite well – though I do not understand how this could be possible," Spock replied as he took his place beside the Rabbi.
"Why is it so necessary for you to understand? Can you not merely accept the fact that you have been healed?"
"Not very easily, sir. It is my nature to study everything in minute detail."
"Ah, yes, that beloved logic of yours. Sometimes it makes things very difficult for you, Mr. Spock."
Spock remained silent, feeling an unfamiliar sensation - a sense of something that was closely akin to shyness.
"For one who has traveled so far to find me, you are strangely silent."
Spock looked at the Rabbi sharply. What did the word "far" mean to this unusual man?
"You know my name," he said at last. "Indeed, you know so much about me that I could almost begin to think that you had come from...."
"The same time in which you reside?" The Rabbi said when Spock grew silent to avoid betraying too much. "No. I was born not very far from this city a little more than thirty years ago."
"Are there any records to substantiate your statement?"
"There are - but you would not accept them. Most of them are engraved upon the hearts of men, not upon tablets or scrolls."
"You are right," Spock found himself apologizing. "I am sorry, but I cannot deny my nature...."
"It is possible to change one's innermost self, to cast aside old burdens, Mr. Spock," the Rabbi said kindly.
But Spock wasn't listening, for his gaze was directed toward his arm, where the Universal Translator should have been - but wasn't. It must have been torn away during the battle.... Spock could not restrain his gasp of surprise, for he and the Rabbi had been conversing in the Vulcan tongue.
"What is this?" he demanded. "You say that you are a native to this time, but you speak my language fluently! Humans have great difficulty with...." He paused then his eyes narrowed. Yes, the Vulcan tongue was difficult for humans, but perhaps the Rabbi wasn't a human. After all, until that moment when the Organians had revealed their true forms, they had appeared to be....
"No, Spock. I am not an Organian." Jesus assured him, and for a second time the Vulcan couldn't conceal his surprise. They weren't touching, yet this Rabbi was reading his thoughts. If he were not an Organian, he must be a very powerful telepath, which explained his ability to know men's thoughts. But - how did Jesus heal, and why didn't he, Spock, feel his usual instinctive aversion to an uninvited mind-touch?
"I - find that hard to believe." he said finally. "You are very much like the Organians."
"You would like to believe, and that means much. However, I repeat - I am not an Organian."
Spock continued to study the Rabbi's features. He was young, much younger than the Vulcan, but the Rabbi's eyes were filled with wisdom and understanding far beyond his years. "What are you?" Spock asked softly.
"This fell from your robe during the battle." The Rabbi held out Spock's tricorder. "Use it so you may accomplish your mission and determine the answers to your own questions."
"Can nothing be concealed from you?" Spock exclaimed, taking the tricorder with a slightly unsteady hand.
"I am not immune to curiosity, Spock. A touch in the proper place can reveal much about the unknown. Come now, resolve your doubts."
Spock needed no further urging. A moment later, he looked up, his eyes reflecting the wonder and - yes - the awe which had taken possession of him.
"It seems I must retract a statement which I made to my Captain. You are all the Organians are - and more...!"
"Do not fear me, Spock. I never want that. Do not deny it; I can see it in your mind. Is it so startling to you to find that a 'legend' has suddenly become a reality?"
"Yes." Spock admitted reluctantly as he deactivated the tricorder then put it away.
"Even so, that should not keep you from asking your questions." The Rabbi leaned back and clasped His hands about His knees, perfectly at ease and content to remain as long as the Vulcan needed Him.
"The tricorder has answered all of them."
"Not quite all. It cannot answer your personal questions. Speak freely."
"You - You said that Your hour has not come. You know so much.... Do You have the gift of precognition?"
"That is one name which men have given this gift which they once possessed. Please, continue."
"You - know what awaits You?"
"I do," the Master replied calmly.
Spock shook his head. "Why should You give Your life for such illogical beings?"
"Once, you took poison thorns meant for your Captain - yet he is an 'illogical being.' If you could do this, surely you can understand why I must drink of the cup which awaits me."
The Vulcan sighed then he lifted his eyebrow. "Yes, Sir, but will You not agree that humans can be most exasperating creatures?"
"Granted!" the Rabbi laughed. "But it is their very willfulness which makes them so appealing. And - I think that a certain woman named Christine considers you most 'exasperating' at times. Is that not so?"
Spock thought of the look in Christine's eyes when she'd begged him not to destroy her faith. "She has suffered much because of me - I regret that. I regret it very much."
"You are making progress. Yet, doubts still trouble you?"
"There is much about Your philosophy which I admire. However, I cannot understand why a religion which speaks so highly of duty and of responsibility should consider 'eternal rest' so desirable...."
"Yes, that would present difficulty to you.... Spock, that which you call 'eternal rest' is not the same thing which I promise. It is not something which I can describe verbally to your satisfaction. Therefore, will you let me - show you?"
He held out His hand.
Spock drew back, instinctively recoiling from a contact, which would enable this Man to fathom directly those depths, which the Vulcan sought to keep hidden - even from himself.
Aware that he was revealing a lack of trust - an illogical lack of trust - Spock bent his head for a brief moment, considering all the factors of the situation.
At last, he drew himself erect and held out his hand.
Their fingers gripped in the age-old gesture of peace and trust, and they looked deeply into each other's eyes.
"No!" Spock gasped, seeking to pull his hand free, still unwilling to share his innermost self - even with this Man - but it was too late....
What they were sharing was much more than a mind-meld. Now that he had accepted the mental touch, Spock found that it wasn't the invasion he'd feared. Somehow, Spock realized that everything he'd ever done, said, or even thought had been no secret to this Man - perhaps even before they'd clasped hands. But, it did not matter; it made no difference.... Even though He knew everything about Spock, the Master loved him - not for what he'd done or for what he might do in the future. He loved him because he was Spock. For the first time, the Vulcan knew what it was to be totally at peace within himself.
Totally overwhelmed, Spock bent his head to conceal the tears, which he could feel burning behind his eyes.
"Will you remember which you have learned?" the Master demanded as He released Spock's hand.
"How can I ever forget?"
"It is well. My friend, the hour grows late. You have a very long journey before you...."
"I - I do not want to leave You." The Vulcan cast his heritage away with these words, but he didn't feel any regret in doing so.
"Spock." The Rabbi's hand was gentle upon his downbent head. "You have a Captain to whom you have already pledged your service. Even so, no matter where - or when - you go, I shall always be with you. Accept my promise with faith, and forget the logic of it. You cannot stay here, for you can no longer communicate with those around you. Besides, you have the information for which you came. You have no reasonable excuse for remaining any longer."
"No." Spock rose slowly. "I have no choice. I must return to my time - and to the life which You have given me. But, I have not thanked You...."
"See that you use that life well, my son. Thank you for coming to my defense. Go in Peace - and safe journey."
Spock stood on the transporter platform, trying to convince himself that the era which he had just left was not more real than the scene before him. After a moment, everything became properly situated in the time-flow, and he felt himself becoming the First Officer of the Enterprise again.
At his request, the 'Guardian' had returned him to his own time exactly one hour after he'd left. In keeping with that same request, both Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk were standing by the console.
"Well, Spock?" Kirk demanded impatiently.
"The information is stored here, Captain." Spock held up the tricorder, looked down at it for a moment then lifted that eyebrow. He started to step down from the platform, but one ankle twisted beneath him. As he fell to one knee, his hand brushed against the "erase" switch.
"My apologies, Captain," he said as he rose.
"Was everything lost?" Kirk said anxiously. "Will you have to go back?"
"No. I had reversed the tape. Several conversations and facts remain which will satisfy Star Fleet. The record of the Face and of the Voice of the One I was sent to find has been erased, but perhaps that is just as well. There are many who would venerate the Image too much...."
"Spock!" Kirk gripped the Vulcan's shoulders. "You mean - you found Him?"
"He lives, Captain." Spock turned with resignation to face Doctor McCoy. "Examine me, if you must, Doctor, but please limit your questions."
"Why do you always ask the impossible?" McCoy snapped after consulting his readings. "Spock, you were stabbed through the heart! Don't take this the wrong way but - why aren't you dead?"
"Doctor, you believe that your 'Christ' was able to heal - to even bring the dead back to life?"
"Yes. But, what does that...?"
"You now have evidence which confirms that belief." Spock retorted. "Captain, may I take time to change clothes before I give you a full report?"
"Certainly, Spock. Take as much time as you need."
"What do you make of it, Bones?" Kirk asked after the Vulcan had gone.
"Jim, Spock should be dead, but he's alive. He left this ship saying that he neither believed nor disbelieved, but we just heard him say that the Christ lives. Spock's as sure-footed as a Rigelian Carmount, but he just tripped over his own feet - and erased the only authentic record of Jesus of Nazareth in the process. Did he do that because it might complicate matters for millions? We'll probably never know what happened, but I think Spock experienced something in the past that shook him to the depths of his being."
"Who is it?" Nurse Chapel inquired in response to the buzzer. There was no answer, but the buzzer sounded again. Christine sighed then she went to open the door. She gasped angrily and stepped back so the doors would slide shut - too late.
"You're not welcome here, Mr. Spock!" She turned away from the blue clad figure standing before the now closed door.
"I know," he said softly. "Nevertheless, I shall not leave until you have heard what I have come to say."
Christine turned and glared at him. "I don't want to listen, but I know you don't bluff.... Very well; get it over with."
Instead, Spock stood motionless with his arms folded across his chest, waiting for her to regain her composure.
"I'm sorry - that was rude," she said finally. "Please, what do you want to talk about?"
"You told me that you would hate me all the days of your life if...."
"I spoke in anger. I had no right to say such a thing."
"Nevertheless, you did speak those words. Hatred is an illogical expenditure of energy, do you not agree?"
"I - I suppose so, but - but what does that matter?"
"You will not be able to resolve your doubts and your fears until you know what I found?" He said relentlessly as he came toward her.
"That - that's right." She stood her ground bravely.
"So I anticipated." He paused before her. "Again, I am pressed for time.... Ordinarily, I would not consider this, but the circumstances are somewhat - unusual. Verbal communication takes too long, and I am confident that you would not be content with mere words. Our minds have been joined previously, so it would not be the shock that might be experienced otherwise.... Nurse - Christine, if you will consent to a brief mind-touch, I will - show you what I found."
It was to Christine's credit that she hesitated only a moment before nodding then she closed her eyes and waited.
Spock paused. No matter what, he would always feel this hesitation, this reluctance to share his mind with another.
Finally, he reached out to gently lay his fingers upon her head and face in the mind-touching pattern. As soon as he felt her thoughts, he concentrated his mental powers to transmit to her the positive proof that she wanted and needed so desperately - the memory of the Master's face, smiling as He spoke her name.
"O-h-h-h!" Christine gasped, tears of contrite joy flooding her eyes as Spock broke the brief mental contact before anything more could cross from his mind to hers. "You haven't destroyed my faith - you - you've strengthened it. How - how can I ever thank you?"
"Let there be no further talk of hating me." he said softly.
Then, having unbent as far as was possible to him - even now - he was gone.
FH: So, Spock had to make a journey through time to confirm what I've always known? Did his Encounter change him completely?
YOE: Only the very little that was indicated. As had happened with Zarabeth in "All Our Yesterdays," he maintained that it had all happened a long time ago and had no bearings upon the Now. He was once again the First Officer, even when the Enterprise was forced to give shelter to a number of Klingons....
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