Return to Valjiir Stories
Sulu wandered around Dreamland Base, making it look like he was simply looking for something to do. He was actually looking for Tongo Rad. The helmsman had spoken briefly to Sakura when she was heading for her shift in communications. She’d managed to give him a quick report under the cover of a passionate embrace. She’d taken a look at some old logs in the guise of sorting them to make record-keeping more efficient – she was a detail-person and the Loonies had, over the past three days, realized it and put her talents to work. The fact that she was nearly always stoned seemed to make them confident that she was too foggy to retain much. The fact that she was carefully always stoned, and that it didn’t impair her abilities as a yeoman one little bit, was something they did not know. She’d told him that the Catullans were heavily involved in funding the Sevrinite settlement, and there was, a few months back, some sort of research that was now being hushed up. But she hadn’t yet been able to find out anything more.
“So ask your love-sick puppy,” she had whispered, then giggled.
As yet, Sulu hadn’t seen Tongo anywhere on the Base.
He shared a pipe of Rigellian with a small group of the Sevrinites, relating stories about the inhumanity of Starfleet which were both edited and magnified. He ran into a Racer he used to know, a short, wiry man whose needle had been called Nightshade and who still went by that name. They were talking casually about the Clave when Sulu caught sight of Tongo just exiting a door which led to a set of rooms that hadn’t been included on the tour. He excused himself and strode easily but directly to the Catullan.
“Where’ve you been, Tong?” he asked. The young man’s expression immediately altered, from a serious, grim near-scowl to a delighted, almost bashful smile.
“Just some Base business, Kam,” he replied. The muscles in his right arm twitched, and Sulu recognized Rad’s aborted urge to touch him.
“Hey, it’s alright, brother,” he murmured. “Do what you feel.” Rad blushed, then reached out to place his hand on the helmsman’s chest.
“That the best you can do?” Sulu teased, then pulled the Catullan into an embrace. “I know what you want,” he murmured. “There’s no shame in it, is there?”
Tongo gave a shy laugh. “It’s just that I’m always so reticent around you,” he tried to explain. He chuckled again. “I don’t even know why.”
Sulu almost felt sorry for him. That’s easy. You’re in love, he thought, and swallowed the sudden, longing memory – then suppressed a shiver as he became conscious of the fact that it wasn’t his memory. The picture came clearly to him – Ruth and Jilla, discussing him – and he realized it must’ve come from his recent mental contact with the Antari. That, and the xenoneurophene. He really needed to lay off the amber.
He shook off the apprehension and smiled at the Catullan.
“There’s no need to be,” he said and stepped easily away, grasping Rad’s hand. “Come on, let’s talk, get to know each other better.” Rad blushed again, and he chuckled. “I meant out of bed.”
“Okay,” Tongo agreed. “I’ve got some free time.” They found a deserted pile of pillows and Sulu plopped down on them, pulling Rad with him. He slipped his arm around the Catullan and, as they talked, made himself casually stroke the lavender hair, or affectionately squeeze the man’s upper arm – even occasionally kiss the painted forehead. He talked about the Clave, extolling the virtues of freedom and unrestrained exhibition. He told the same negative stories about Fleet life that he’d been sharing with the other Sevrinites. And he encouraged Rad to talk about his life as an ambassador’s son, and the things which had brought him to the Sevrinite Cause.
Before too long, Rad was talking freely about the events that had taken place after the Enterprise had turned them all over to the Federation authorities. He spoke of the intense arguments he’d had with his father, and how he had become determined to find a way to make all Catulla reach.
“And I did, Kam,” he said, staring into the helmsman’s eyes with fevered intensity. “I hooked up with some Havens, and they taught me their chemistry. When I got back with Irina, she and I figured out how to fuse neurological and chemical agents, and we found out what a boost they gave to espers. At first it was a bad trip – they didn’t know how to control it. But they did enough to convince my Herbert father, and he convinced the Catullan government…” He stopped speaking abruptly, as if just realizing what he was saying.
Sulu absently kissed Tongo’s head, though his heart was racing. “That’s real, Tong. He was finally able to reach. Pure.” He smiled at the Catullan. “So is he One now?”
Tongo stared at him for a moment, and Sulu could feel the struggle within him. He wanted to be suspicious, but his emotions were pushing him to throw all caution to the wind. You can trust Kam, they said. You’ve shared everything else with him, why not this? And with it, Sulu knew just how to proceed. He would have to wait for more information, but he could guarantee that he’d get it.
“Hey, it crosses you to talk about this, baby,” he said, making his eyes both gentle and compelling. “No need. All I want to know is right here.” And he touched Rad’s chest, then his own. “Heart to heart, Tong. Heart to heart.”
Rad blinked, the brown eyes half-filling with tears, and he lurched up, kissing Sulu awkwardly. Sulu returned it, then settled the young man beside him again.
“So, what’s for dinner tonight?” he asked, and calculated how long it would be before he could safety excuse himself and take this information to the mission’s commander.
Ruth Valley was finding it difficult to concentrate. She had contacted Spock and had a brief but intense telepathic quickie, but it had done little to remove the feel of butterscotch and honey that ran all through her. Honey. Sweet honey sunshine. Darlin’ angel. Golden honey love.
She shuddered, trying to clear Del’s voice from her mind, but it vibrated within her, making her heart race, her lungs ache. She swore silently, and tried again to focus. To her dismay, it only seemed to increase the sense of disorientation. There was an itching beneath her skin, her arms and legs starting to burn.
Arms and legs. Long bones. What am I trying to heal?
Daffy didn’t test the smoke.
She forced her mind to do a quick self-inventory, right down to the molecular level. There was xenoneurophene running all through her.
Damn it!
She closed her eyes, setting her finely-honed natural talent against the foreign chemical. Then found that she couldn’t cure it.
Damn again!
As if in angry reaction to her attempt, she felt the chemical flaring, working it’s way down to the medulla oblongata and the dull pain in her lungs froze. She gasped, knowing she had only moments before she stopped breathing altogether, and sent out a panicked, telepathic cry.
Sulu started, and quickly rose from Tongo’s embrace. He couldn’t have explained if he’d wanted to, but his heart was thundering and he knew without knowing how that Ruth was in trouble. He practically raced across the cargo bay to her room.
Help me! screamed in DelMonde’s mind and he did the first thing he could think of, sending out a wave of breathe, cher! before pushing out of his nest of groupies and running to Ruth’s side.
Spock bolted upright out of bed, reaching for his wife’s awareness. The panic in her was quite real, with a definite physical cause. He used all his telepathic strength to give her a link to his ability to breathe, then focused on adding his control to hers. Explanation for whatever was attacking her respiratory system could wait.
When Sulu reached Ruth’s room, DelMonde was already beside her, his hands on her chest, his eyes fixed in deep concentration. “Come on, babe,” he was muttering. “You not know what you can do till you do it. You can heal this. Just listen to me, cher. Listen to him. Breathe, darlin’. Breathe.”
“What can I…?” Sulu began.
CPR! came at his mind from, he thought, two places, and he knelt next to the Antari’s body, opening her lips, pinching her nose, exhaling deeply into her mouth. Another deep breath, another exhale – then another, and another…
Raw-eth, please!
My wife, breathe!
…another and another…
And Ruth was coughing, gasping, pushing both he and Del away as she sat up. Her eyes were watering and Sulu grabbed her arms, pulling them up over her head. After a few seconds, she nodded, rasping, “I’m fine now, I’m okay…”
Then she was in Del’s embrace, his arms holding her head tightly to his chest as he rocked her back and forth.
“Jesus, sweet Mary mother o’ God…” he was murmuring.
“What happened?” Sulu asked.
The Antari’s purple eyes glared up at him. “The damned xenoneurophene,” she growled.
Sulu blinked. “But you haven’t…”
“Daffy didn’t test the Rigellian. Let me go, Del.”
“I almos' lost you,” the engineer whispered, and Sulu thought he could hear another echo of the same words.
Ruth’s gaze softened. “I’m alright now,” she repeated, and tentatively stroked Del’s hair. “Really. Thank you.”
He pulled away. “Which one?” he asked.
She smiled. “Both of you.” She again looked up at Sulu. “All three of you.”
“Daffy, test the Rigellian.”
Ruth had murmured the words to the chemist as she got a cup of coffee and a couple more K ration protein cubes from her friend. Daffy gave her a raised-eyebrow look, then nodded.
She hurried through the rest of her work detail, then found Cobra and got his mini-tricorder. She went to her room, and luckily neither Stupid Roger or Lace were there. Swiftly she prepared a bit of the Rigellian in the woven bowl and set the tricorder scanning.
The herb was laced with xenoneurophene.
“Damn it!” she swore out loud. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!
Now what’s the point of that? she wondered, quickly hiding the tricorder in the waistband of her multi-colored shorts. I’ve got to find a way to examine the stuff. It simply didn’t make any sense. Why heighten anyone with psychic gifts? Why increase a telepath’s power only to have them self-destruct? What good would temporarily amped up telepaths do The Cause?
Unless, her naturally suspicious mind speculated, there’s a reason for only wanting a telepath around for a short time. Say, long enough to influence others, but not long enough to be a danger when they find out things they shouldn’t.
She blanched. Active listening ain’t gonna cut it, bubee, she said silently to Jeremy. If we want Ruth and Cajun to get out of this alive, we’d better dig up those messy-telepath-death stories in one hell of a hurry.
She left her room, determined to find out where and how the Flower Loonies were getting and doctoring their drugs, and almost bumped into Stupid Roger.
“Peace, sister,” he said with his usual stupid grin.
“Yeah, shalom and all that to you too,” she answered, trying not to push her way past him. His hands came to her shoulders and she stopped, sighing. “Listen, Rog…”
“You’re jacketed, Daf,” he said, all concern and earnestness. “What can I do to help?”
“You can get out of my way,” the chemist replied sweetly – with teeth bared.
“There’s no need to rush for anything here,” he intoned. “We’ve got no timetables, nothing that can’t wait if someone has some crosses to deal with.” He smiled again, apparently intending to convey wisdom and sympathy. “Come on, do a bowl with me.”
“I don’t think so,” Daffy returned.
“What’s sledging you, little sister?”
“You, at the moment,” she snapped. “Excuse me.” she turned sideways, easing past him and out into the bay. She didn’t see the slight frown and sudden gleam of intelligence in Roger’s brown eyes.
She found Cobra who was having what looked like a flirtatious conversation with Sulu. She gave them both kisses as a cover greeting, then said to Paget, “I’m keeping the tricorder for a while. The Rigellian is laced, and I’ve got to find out how.”
He nodded, frowning. “Kam tells me we almost lost Spike.”
“What?” Daffy exclaimed. Sulu repeated the story and the chemist felt sick. “Shit, the smoke is all around us,” she said. “She can’t avoid it..”
“I know,” Paget returned. “We gotta step up the timetable here.”
“Tongo mentioned some experiments with telepaths that went wrong,” Sulu rejoined. “Bad trip was how he put it. But he implied that the results are what made his father – and the Catullan government – fund the movement. I’ll get more information later, but for now…” He spread his hand with a grimace of regret. “The only other thing I know is that he and Galliulin concocted something using Haven knowledge, so I’m betting the xenoneurophene isn’t just xenoneurophene.”
“Shit,” Daffy repeated. “Goddamned fucking Havens…”
“We’ve gotta get you into their lab,” Paget said.
“Don’t I know it,” Gollub muttered.
“I’ve got an in with Irina,” Jeremy said. “I’ll see what I can do.” He shrugged at the chemist’s glare. “Sakura’s gotten a look at past communications. I’ll tell her to step that up, too.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s keep it together, people.”
Both Sulu and Daffy nodded, then Gollub gave them each another kiss and left them to their ‘flirting.’ She swiftly correlated what the helmsman had said with the readings she’d gotten and decided she’d have to run the Rigellian again, with a more finely calibrated scan.
As she passed one of the bowls of Haven chemicals, she surreptitiously grabbed a few. She’d have to run a detailed analysis of them, too. With luck, the cross-referencing could tell her something even without a chemistry lab.
Chekov realized, as he groggily opened his eyes, that the hand on his stomach wasn’t Irina’s.
“Good morning, cutie,” Chione was snuggled against him on one side while Irina was laying contentedly on the other.
He remembered now that they’d stayed up a long time last night drinking. More accurately, he had been drinking. They’d been talking. He had tried to listen, hoping for valuable scraps of information that could conceivably further the mission, but Chione seemed incapable of holding a serious thought for more than a second or two. He remembered now that he had eventually drifted off to sleep.
What he didn’t remember was at what point he’d lost all his clothes.
“Horoshye utro, Pasha,” Irina whispered to him in Russian as she kissed and intimately caressed him.
“I…” he started to protest, but his voice caught in his throat as Chione’s hand joined Irina’s and the two began to stroke him in tandem.
“Chione and I are best friends,” his lover informed him as his flesh hardened eagerly under the women’s ministrations.
“Very best friends,” the blonde purred, then let her tongue trace a tingling line down his chest.
“Friends who share everything,” Irina explained, using her free hand to guide his left to her breast and his right to Chione’s rounded backside.
“Everything,” her friend confirmed eagerly before beginning to lick his nipples.
“We want to share you, now,” Irina’s breath was hot against his ear as she pressed close against him.
“And what if I don’t….Ah!” His grip on breast and buttock tightened convulsively as Chione added her mouth to the novel collection on hands attending to his groin.
“Don’t be so conventional, Pavel,” Irina scolded, taking her friend’s place at his nipples and giving them a reprimanding nip with her teeth.
“I… I…” he tried to protest.
“Relax,” his lover ordered, relinquishing the lower half of him to Chione. She knelt next to him and removed her gauzy gown in a single fluid motion. “Permit yourself to enjoy.”
She then straddled him, placing a delicate knee on either side of his neck, her creamy white thighs spread wide, and her finely muscled rump making delicious contact with his chest.
“It’s not wrong to enjoy what you want, Pavel,” she lectured, putting her hands behind his head. “And you know that this is what you want.”
In all his life, he’d never been in less of a position to argue.
Del woke with his head familiarly too-full, the thoughts and emotions of the young women in bed with him pounding into his skull. He tried the exercises that Ruth had taught him so long ago, but they didn’t help much. He breathed deeply, trying to orient himself. He didn’t know what day it was. He had no idea how long he’d been at Dreamland. He had no idea of how the mission was going, if anything of use had been discovered. All he could recall clearly was the sweet blue that was now beyond his reach – and the warnings of his fellow officers.
They t'ink they bad for me, them l’il blue pills, he thought angrily. What the hell they know? Maybe it true I not helpin’ much wit' the mission, but I not hurtin’ it none. The loonies not askin’ me to do anything ‘cept sing and play for ‘em. It a distraction, non? It let the others do what they need to. An' on them l’il blue pills, it all I wanna do anyway. Chime an’ reach an’ be One. It make the loonies accept us all more. That good for the mission, non?
He groaned, his headache worsening, wrapping one of the pillows around his ears. Next to him, Ravi stirred. He felt her reaching for him and he moaned again.
“What’s wrong, brother?” she asked, and her voice reverberated in his mind.
“He needs rest and strength,” he heard Diona say. There was movement on the bed, and hands gently removing the pillow. “We’ve got what you need, baby,” the Sevrinite whispered. She touched his lips and he felt her carefully pushing something between them. The first taste of the blue pill was like a surge of softness through him, and he eagerly took it.
“More,” he rasped, and Diona stroked his head.
“Sure, baby,” she said, and another pill was placed against his lips. That, too, he swallowed.
“More,” he repeated.
Ravi laughed. “Wait till you feel it,” she admonished. “Two may be enough.”
“Never,” he managed, but made himself relax. The blue silence began to descend on him, the spirit world opening up before him. He reached for it, and it seemed to move away from him, as though playing with him. It made the usual state of his gifts too painful and he squeezed his closed eyes more tightly shut.
“More!” It was a demand this time, and Diona kissed him, and another pill was added to the two already working within him. The taunting visions came closer, but still stayed just out of reach. “One more,” he begged softly, and that, too, was readily given.
Then the blue surf hit him, utter quiet and utter power. All the noise in his head faded, the dancing shadows coming joyously to his call. He opened his eyes, seeing ghosts and angels and demons floating all around him. Some he recognized, but didn’t take the time to name them. A few of them held up bubbles, and he chuckled, lifting his fingers to pop them one by one. He heard Ravi and Diona’s laughter like little tinkling bells, and he smiled to himself, giving a slight push, letting them feel the wonder and joy he did. The laughter increased, and from the way they suddenly started moving around, reaching to the bubbles, he knew they could see them now, too. Angels plucked at the bedclothes, the demons lasciviously stroking bared flesh. With a hungry growl, Del grabbed at Diona, pulling her to him, ravishing her with kisses that came from his thoughts as well as his lips. He glanced at Ravi, then gave a silent, evil laugh, pushing out with his renewed strength, making her feel intimate caresses and sensual need. She started writhing next to him, gasps and sighs coming from her parted lips. Then Diona was clutching at him, climbing over him, impaling herself on him. He pushed at her, too, making her entire body shudder with orgasmic pleasure.
The game went on, Del thinking them into climax after climax. He had no idea how long it lasted, and he didn’t care. His brain was both numb and powerful, his control over what they experienced growing, fine-tuning itself. Given time, he knew, he’d be able to send anything to anyone. He thought of Ruth and gave a wild, silent shriek of intensity and abandon, then gave himself up to Ravi and Diona.
Daffy crouched in one of the stalls in one of Dreamland’s bathrooms on the pretense of cleaning it. She had a small plate from which to take her readings, and she set it down on the seat of the toilet. She took the tricorder from her waistband and worked with it for a few minutes, setting it not only to detect xenoneurophene, but to calculate its dosage and purity and any other chemical anomalies. She’d stolen another pinch of Rigellian, and as she took it and the pills she’d boosted out of the pocket of her apron, one of the K-ration cubes fell onto the plate.
The tricorder started its near-silent chatter, the readings coming up on the small screen. The K ration was filled with xenoneurophene.
“Shit!” the chemist spat, and refused to allow the guilt that she had poisoned her best friend to surface. It wasn’t the couple of doses that mattered anyway; it was the slow, gradual build-up from the constant exposure to the Rigellian that was important.
So what are the evil little Loonies really doing with this stuff, she thought. Within minutes, it became clear that there was another chemical present, a sister-drug to the xenoneurophene – but it was one she’d never seen before. It wasn’t present in the cubes or the Rigellian, but the Haven chemicals were loaded with it.
And that was where the capabilities of the tiny tricorder ended. There was no extended database she could call upon to check out this other chemical. Now she really had to get into Dreamland’s lab.
She efficiently hid the tricorder again, and flushed the Rigellian, the pills, and the K rations down the head. Then she actually cleaned the toilet. Cover was, after all, cover.
Sakura had discovered that as long as she hit the keyboard every few minutes, the Sevrinites that worked beside her didn’t pay too much attention to what she was actually doing. It was simple enough to feed the contents of the Base’s logs into her earpiece, so that any particular file was only visible on the screen for the amount of time it would have taken her to identify and sort it. And she was well versed in multitasking. As the yeoman for the Enterprises’s Chief of Sciences, she’d had to get good at that fast.
At first, the communications were fairly routine, if a little sordid. As she’d already discovered, the Catullan government was funneling a hell of a lot of credit to the Sevrinite’s coffers. The infamous Monolem family also had a stake – which made sense. Where else would the Eden-heads be getting the rather profound amount of Haven chemicals? As she went further back, she discovered, to her genuine dismay, that the estate of Ruis Calvario was also a heavy contributor. She shuddered. It would be best, she thought, not to mention that little fact in Kam’s hearing. Or in Daffy’s, she added, as more documents revealed that there was also some funding from Cameron Intragalactic.
Then she came across another funding document, this one from something called Emerald Entertainment – but the odd thing was that it was signed by Admiral Patrick Glennon. Admiral?
A swift side-check in the computer revealed that Patrick Glennon was, indeed, a commissioned Starfleet officer. The data banks, however, didn’t contain enough information for her to determine where he was posted, or if he was still on active duty. She was definitely going to have to get Ruth to relay that information to Spock.
Then a log popped up which carried an attachment linking it to personnel files for Dreamland – and a list of incoming and outgoing members. The first names on the list were Irina Galliulin, Madvig Harner, Roger McMillen, Tongo Rad and Chione Zeteline. This was at least some confirmation that these were the founders – and possibly the Big Guns – of Dreamland Base they’d been looking for. The inclusion of Stupid Roger was a little disconcerting, but that was thrown completely out of Sakura’s head by the next list that came up on the screen. Casualty figures. Deaths.
Messy telepath deaths, Cobra’s voice reminded in her head, and she started comparing that list with the master personnel file. To her surprise, “espers” were readily identified in it, and it took only seconds for her to realize that every one of them was on both lists.
Every single telepath or empath who had ever come to Dreamland Base was now dead.
Quickly she scanned the medical death certificates – all made out, she noted, by Tongo Rad.
Selene Creed – aneurism
Hasta Lau – massive hemorrhage
Karl Melinkov – stroke
Borashi Rynnel – internal organ failure
Jonehez Williams – suicide
The list went on and, horrified, Sakura quickly closed the files. She reached for the ever-present bong to calm her nerves. She’d have a good smoke, take a few hundred deep breaths, then take her meal break and run like hell to Lieutenant Commander Paget.
Del made his way to the cargo bay followed by Ravi, Diona and a flock of angels and demons. He settled himself down in a corner and was immediately surrounded by several other young women. Phen winked at him from a nearby stack of pillows and he blew the Sevrinite an exaggerated kiss, chuckling at the tingling arousal that flowed to him from the young man’s too-open mind. Adam’s boshzier seemed to appear in his hands, and he began fingering the strings, feeling the smiling face again coming into his thoughts. There was no chance, though, of the ghost taking him over this time The angels pressed closer, humming softly to him. A sudden flush of self-importance touched his senses and he turned his inner sight toward it – and Tongo Rad started playing a slow, hypnotic beat on a set of what looked like flat bongos. Del nodded, falling into the percussion, letting it swell around him, pulling a trance-like melody from the boshzier. Words formed in his mind, and just before he started to sing, a voice he only vaguely remembered hearing before did.
One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all
Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall
The voice was sensual and melodic and definitely female. He pushed at it and his intention bounced back to him, as if it had hit a wall of rubber – not unpleasant, just very, very immune.
And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call
Call Alice when she was just small
He let himself fall into the dream-like spell, his own mental state pulsing out over all those in the bay.
When logic and proportion
When the men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving low
Go ask Alice, I think she'll know
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's off with her head
Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head
He found himself laughing in appreciation and turned, wanting to applaud the singer, but her presence was nowhere to be found. It didn’t really matter to him, and as the clapping of the gathered Sevrinites faded, he easily turned his talents to another piece of music, one that the angels and demons found supremely amusing.
I'm bein’ followed by a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Leapin’ and hoppin’ on a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow…
Ruth heard the music and decided that it was time she joined the Edenhead version of Cataclysmic. She’d been keeping too much to herself, she knew, and had been passing it off as diligence in her assigned tasks, serving The Cause. But if you really wanted the Loonies to believe you reach, she reminded herself, you’d better get your ass out there and chime.
She didn’t appreciate the selection Chione was singing. It was almost like the woman was flaunting Del’s drugged condition. When Del started to perform Moonshadow, she plastered a bright smile on her face and headed in his direction.
Yes, I'm bein’ followed by a moon shadow
And if I ever lose my hands
Lose my plough, lose my lands
Oh, if I ever lose my hands
Well….
I won’t have to work no more
And if I ever lose my eyes
If my colors all run dry
Yes if I ever lose my eyes,
Well….
I won't have to cry no more.
Moon shadow moon shadow
Leapin’ and hoppin’ on a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
She started to sing with him
And if I ever lose my legs
I won't moan and I won't beg
Oh if I ever lose my legs
Well…
I won't have to walk no more
Abruptly her knees buckled and it was all she could do to manage to fall into a semi-graceful sitting position. She stared suspiciously at the engineer, seeing only his evil smile and intent gaze.
You not have to walk no more, cher, Del thought, and the laughter of the demons fed more power into his brain. For reasons he didn’t want to look too closely at, the idea that he could force the words into a physical response seemed devastatingly funny.
And if I ever lose my mouth
All my teeth, north and south
Yes, if I ever lose my mouth
Well….
I won't have to talk...
Ruth abruptly stopped singing and the demons roared their mirth. Where the strong keheil now? he hissed at her.
Did it take long to find me?
I asked the faithful light.
Oh did it take long to find me,
And are you gonna stay the night?
Del, stop! she pleaded with him, please, please stop!
What the matter, babe? Can’t make me?
You don’t really want us to find out, do you? You saw what the xenoneurophene can do to me! What the hell do you think it can do to you? Or are you trying to sabotage the mission and destroy us both?
For an instant, a flash of horrified realization burned his mind. He saw his friends dead, their skulls torn open by the power within him. He felt Jilla’s slow, empty fading, Captain Kirk’s crushing guilt – even Spock’s desolate keening loss. Rage welled in him, until he realized the images weren’t coming from Ruth. The demons laughed harder, and he angrily spat them away, his breath sending them tumbling into nothingness.
Go on then, he snarled at the Antari and released her from his command. As he completed the light-hearted song, he became aware that the entire exchange between them had taken place in the space of a breath.
I'm bein’ followed by a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Leapin’ and hoppin’ on a moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
Moon shadow moon shadow
With tears in her eyes, Ruth fled back to the safety and solitude of her work.
White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane
Moonshadow by Cat Stevens