Return to Valjiir Stories
“I hope you can convince him,” Chione was saying as Sakura and Jeremy fitted the communications relay with scramblers and spoofers. “It’d be so real.” She giggled. “He was almost One years ago, and with the transcendence of being with an Antari…” She giggled again. “And he was so cute…”
Ruth bit down on her tongue. Now was not the time to fall into a fit of sarcastic jealousy – nor to let the Eden-head know how damned irritating she was. Bleached blonde bimbo, she found herself thinking, and shook it away.
“All set to go,” Sakura announced as she straightened from the com unit. “I keyed in the Enterprise’s hailing frequency. They should be answering any minute now.”
“Thanks, Gypsy,” Ruth said, and waited.
“This is the United Starship Enterprise,” came Uhura’s baffled and somewhat distorted voice. “Please identify yourself.”
“Uhura, it’s Ruth,” Valley said and heard the gasp.
“Captain, it’s Lieutenant Valley!” Uhura said, sounding somewhat more distant.
“What?” came the voice of Jim Kirk. “Put it on…”
“I can’t, sir, there’s no visual.”
“On speaker then. And find out where it’s coming from."
“I can’t get a fix on it,” the Communications Officer was saying.
“Damn it!”
“Uhura, I only want to talk to Spock,” Ruth stated above the conversation that was going on at the other end of the link. She heard Chione smother her amusement.
“You’ll talk to me, mister, and that’s an order!” came Kirk’s brusque reply.
“Space it, Herbert,” Ruth spat and silently asked Bwana to forgive her. “If I want to talk to my husband, I damn well will!”
“Uhura, turn that…” Jim began.
“Captain, please,” Spock’s voice suddenly said. “She is my wife.”
“She’s a traitor, Commander, and due no consideration from…”
“Yet still my wife.” His repeated request was softer yet somehow more urgent. “Captain, please.”
There were grumbling noises, then Kirk said, “I want it on speaker, mister.”
“Yes, sir,” Spock replied, then, even more softly, “Ruth?”
“I’m here, beloved,” she said.
“You are well?”
“We’re all just fine.”
“You are with the other deserters, then?”
“Herbert,” Paget muttered.
“I wish to see you, wife,” Spock said.
Ruth glanced questioningly at Chione, who giggled again. “It’s fine,” she said. “They can’t identify us from here. And I want to see those cute Vulcan ears anyway.”
Sakura nodded and made a few adjustments to the scrambler. The lines of interference on the small screen cleared, becoming the strong, angular features of the Vulcan. In the background, Ruth could see Uhura sitting at her station, with Jim Kirk standing stiffly beside her.
“Better, husband?” Ruth asked with a gentle smile.
“Much,” Spock replied. “Ruth, why did you…?”
“You know why,” Ruth interrupted. “They gave us orders to kill – grandparents and children, Spock.”
“There must have been some logical alternative…”
“Logical alternative my ass,” Jeremy growled. Chione went wide-eyed and open-mouthed in feigned shock, then, of course, giggled.
Again Spock ignored them. “This can be rectified, Ruth,” he said. “If you turn yourselves in now…”
“And betray our benefactors?” Sakura put in.
“Miss Tamura,” Kirk’s voice broke in, “I order you to…”
“Crawl up a cat’s ass, Jimmy,” the yeoman responded, prompting another faux-scandalized expression from the Sevrinite.
“Ruth, please,” Spock said, taking renewed control of the conversation, “I understand your motives, but…”
“Hey, Spock, how’s your lyrette?” Chione suddenly asked. “We chimed real good together, didn’t we?”
“Spock, I’m not coming back,” Ruth said. “I can’t. I can’t follow those sledging orders anymore.”
The elegant Vulcan eyebrow rose. “Sledging…?"
“She means unethical, immoral, just plain fuckin’ wrong, Commander,” Jeremy said tersely.
“And I know you’d feel the same way if you understood what it is to be free of them,” Ruth rejoined urgently. She reached out, touching the screen as though she could actually touch him. “I know you, husband. I know IDIC and the Way of Surak. There’s infinite diversity, here, beloved, and freedom and peace and joy – all the things you need, all the things I give you. Chione tells it like it is – you chimed with her once. You were almost there, you almost Reached…” She took a deep breath, very real tears brimming in her eyes. “Leave Fleet, Spock. Come to me, be One with me – with us all.”
She watched as Spock swallowed. “My duty…” he began, but his voice was hoarse.
“Sledge your duty!” she cried. “This is real, here is real, you and I are real! Dr. Sevrin had the coordinates of Eden wrong – and maybe it doesn’t exist – but we can make it here! We can create Eden! With your help, your influence – Spock, all Vulcan should be One! You’re peace-loving, gentle people…”
“If a little stiff,” Chione giggled.
“…please, husband, I need you!”
From the corner of the screen, Ruth saw the turbolift to the Bridge open, and Jilla rushing off it. “Sumin tu, Sulu?” she gasped.
“He’s fine, Lady,” Jeremy said, and to Ruth’s ears it was ugly; possessive and gloating. “I’m takin’ good care of him.”
“Me, too, Jilla,” Sakura added in almost a sneer. “He’s absolutely perfect.”
When did you two take acting lessons? the Antari wondered bitterly as Jilla began glowing. And how hard is this after little miss steamroller?
“Ruth,” Spock was saying – pleading – “I cannot forsake my life here…”
“What life?” Chione asked with a toothy grin. “You’ve got music in your soul, brother, not orders and regulations and blind obedience to that Herbert.” Then she suddenly started dancing around, chanting in a sing-song voice. “Herbert, Herbert….”
Sakura joined in, taking the Sevrinite’s hands so they were skipping in a little circle.
“Herbert, Herbert…”
“Come home, Ruth,” Spock begged.
“Come here, husband,” Ruth pleaded in return.
“Herbert, Herbert…”
“Even if I wished to, I do not…”
“Herbert, Herbert…”
“We can come get you, just resign and get to some neutral world…”
“Herbert, Herbert…”
“Dei’larr’ei, it is not a thing so lightly done…”
“Herbert, Herbert…”
“ENOUGH!” Kirk roared and Chione and Sakura started laughing gaily. “Uhura, trace that…”
“Break it!” Jeremy demanded.
“Spock, please…!”
“My wife, I cannot…”
“SHIT!” Ruth slammed her hand down on the console, breaking the connection. Then she burst into the tears she’d been holding back. “I was so sure he’d hear me…” she sobbed, and Jeremy took her into his arms.
“He’s been at the beck and call of Fleet too long, babe,” he soothed.
My wife, you were brilliant, came Spock’s strong, proud voice in her mind.
So were you, beloved, she sent back at him, and in her thoughts she was smiling. So were you.
Del let the excited chatter around him fade. The angels and Papa Lem-bay all made sense now; he could see and hear and feel the spirit world around him and around others. It was something the houngan and mamba had always done on the bayou, but he’d never thought it would apply to him. Of course, now that he did think about it, it made sense. He was one of the most gifted Terran empaths and telepaths Fleet had ever come across. Why wouldn’t the spirits come to him?
Maybe ol’ Del belong here, he thought. Maybe tryin’ to control all this instead of usin’ it is what make me so dark an’ crazy.
He closed his eyes, tentatively reaching out with his mind, trying to draw on what he had all his life fought so hard against.
His fellow officers were easy to pick up on. Sulu – watch it, Kam, don’t mess wit' the boy.
Daffy – Damn, girl, how I never notice you so stiff behind that flighty façade?
Sakura – stayin’ stoned so she not t'ink ‘bout Kam.
Paget – what a war goin’ on in you, babe! Duty, worry, keepin’ all the pieces together – an’ Kam Kam Kam Kam Kam.
Ruth – my Raw-eth, how, why you turn away from me…
“Come home, Ruth.”
“Come here, husband.”
“Even if I wished to, I do not…”
“We can come get you, just resign and get to some neutral world…”
“Dei’larr’ei, it is not a thing so lightly done…”
“Spock, please…!”
“My wife, I cannot…”
“SHIT! I was so sure he’d hear me…”
Inside, Del trembled with repressed rage. A part of his brain reminded him that this was exactly what she was supposed to do – make a show of trying to convince Spock to join them. But more of his mind burned with unfocused anger, at her, at the Vulcan who refused her after giving her wedding vows – never mind that that was not only exactly what the Vulcan was supposed to do but it was the thing Del himself wanted Spock to do – at himself for letting her go, for not trying with all his might every single day to win her back.
Please come…
An’ he say no…
Almost unbidden, altered words to an old song came to his mind. He reached for the boshzier, needing to purge the bitterness.
To herar the original song, click here
“Please come to Dreamland
he sang
To live fo'ever,”
“Oh shit, NC…” Jeremy mumbled in weary annoyance, and Ruth lifted her head from both the TerAfrican’s chest and her sweet, renewing contact with Spock, hearing the music of the boshzier. Del must’ve stopped channeling, her thoughts began, then she heard the words he was singing.
“A chimin’ reachin’ life alone
Is jus' too hard to bear.
I live in a base
Made rich an' peaceful an' open.
My new found friends will welcome you,
An' your old ones, too.
Please come to Dreamland.”
He jus' say, “No.
Woman, you come back to Fleet.”
He say, “Antari woman, now attend to me.
Vulcan wives jus' can’t be free.
There ain’t no joy an' there ain’t no passion in me
I’m the Herbert who owns Keheil ani Ramy.”
Goddamned mother-fucking son of a bitch bastard!
She heard Chione giggling, then repeating with Del, “I’m the Herbert who owns Keheil ani Ramy.”
The Sevrinites gathered around the engineer burst into laughter and clapping.
“Don’t do it, Spike,” Paget warned.
Sakura’s arms were suddenly around them both. “Take it for the team,” she whispered, then said louder, “It’s so true, isn’t it, Spike?”
Ruth let a sorrowful frown cross her face, replacing the murderous glare. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she said, then gently broke free of her fellow officers, and went to her assigned room for a good, private communion with her husband.
And take that, you Cajun son of a bitch!
“Here’s the hangar,” Rad said as he ushered Sulu into a large bay. The helmsman had eagerly expressed his desire to see the ships he was going to be piloting and the Sevrinite seemed more than willing to accede to anything Sulu wished.
Sulu stared longingly at the small fleet of craft that had unquestionably once been needles. “You’ve got some real beauties here, Tongo,” he said. “Do they handle as sweet as they look?”
“With a touch like yours, I’m sure they’ll cruise like butterflies,” Rad returned, almost shyly.
Sulu took a preparatory deep breath, and turned his gaze to the Catullan. “I reach, brother,” he murmured seductively. “And speaking of cruising…”
“Lace told me all about that,” Tongo replied, his eyes shining. “Do you want to do a couple hits?”
“No need. I already am,” Sulu said. “And I’m feeling the call, brother.” He gave the young man a slow once over. “I truly am.”
Rad actually blushed, glancing down at the deck. When his eyes came back up, they were liquid and full of longing. “That’s real, Kam.”
Sulu took a step forward, noting that the Catullan did likewise, though his movements were awkward and hesitating. A mixture of disdain and relief filled him, and he was deliberately forceful when he pulled Rad into his arms. “You wanted me on the Enterprise,” he said, his lips so close to the Sevrinite’s they were almost touching.
Tongo blinked, nodding.
“Curiosity – or did you know what it was you wanted?”
“I knew.” The answer was a bare whisper.
“Sevrin?” Sulu asked.
Rad swallowed and nodded again.
“Adam?”
A third nod.
“He was tall,” Sulu murmured. “Strong.” He paused, letting a suggestive twinkle come into his eyes. “Large.”
Tongo stared at him, mesmerized, the color in his face growing. Sulu could feel the heat growing as well. The helmsman chuckled. “You’re really gonna like Cobra, then,” he promised.
Wounded dismay sprang into Rad’s eyes. “I… I thought…” he stammered.
Sulu laughed, making it a low, musical sound. “Not to worry, Tong,” he said, deliberately shortening the name. “We’re all gonna share this nice, compact body of yours.”
“A… all? You mean you and Gypsy and…”
“We’re a team,” Sulu replied. “A nice, close, easy team.” He turned, keeping one arm around the man’s waist. “And you want to play for us, don’t you?”
“I’ll do anything you want, Kam,” Rad rasped, and Sulu smiled.
They made their way back to the cargo bay. Sulu noted that Jeremy and Sakura were talking with Chione but that Ruth was nowhere to be seen. Del was again strumming on the boshzier - and Sulu found he could feel the engineer’s grim amusement. He quickly stepped up to Jeremy.
“Is Spock coming?” he asked hopefully.
“That Herbert?” the TerAfrican snorted.
Beside him Rad shook his head. “That really crosses, “ he said. “On the Enterprise we really thought he reached.”
“Not even for Spike, huh?” Sulu asked.
Sakura sighed unhappily.
The helmsman shrugged. “What is, is, brothers,” he said philosophically. “Hey, Chi, will you excuse us? Tongo and I have something we want to share with Cobra and Gypsy.”
He noted the exchange of looks between the two Sevrinites, then Chione giggled – does she ever do anything else? he wondered - and said to Rad, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Rad frowned. “Tend to Brother Del,” he told her. She gave the One sign and turned, waving a cheery farewell.
“What’s up, babe?” Jeremy wanted to know.
“Tongo wants what we can give him,” Sulu returned with a leer at the Edenite.
Sakura sucked in air. “Ooohhh…” she breathed slowly. Jeremy grinned sensually.
“Fan-fuckin’-tastic,” he said. “I was gettin’ a little bored.”
Sulu took Rad’s arm, more a caress than a grasp. “Come on brother. Let’s show you what reaching really is.”
The foursome approached Sulu’s room – and the helmsman had to take a deep breath before entering it. He could still feel the death that lingered within it, but it was now just part of the background, not the shock it had been when he’d first been there.
“Let me get us a little candy,” Jeremy said, “I’ll be right back.”
Sulu shot him a questioning glance, and the security man’s return gaze carried his intent clearly to Sulu’s still partially amped up empathy – get some of the kaleidoscope that was mixed in with the rest of the Haven chemicals. It was a powerful hallucinogen that would make it easy to convince Rad that something Sulu couldn’t do had actually taken place. That it would also undoubtedly be laced with xenoneurophene was something with which they’d have to take their chances.
Sulu reclined on the rather large bed, pulling Rad with him, and Sakura immediately climbed onto it, straddling Sulu’s hips. She leaned forward, sensually touching the painted image on Tongo’s forehead.
“Is that a tattoo?” she asked.
Rad grinned, a little uneasily, Sulu thought. “It’s just paint,” he said. “It’s something we do.”
“Ooh, that sounds fun.” She ran her finger across Sulu’s shoulder and down his torso. “Wouldn’t an orchid look beautiful here?”
Sulu chuckled, his hands settling around Sakura’s bare waist. “A garland of cherry blossoms would be perfect for you,” he murmured, letting his fingers tease her skin. She giggled, kissing him. “It’s what her name means in Japanese,” he told Tongo. The Sevrinite smiled.
“An orchid would be pretty,” he said, “but I think, for you, Kam, something a little more – masculine.”
“Maybe in a more masculine place?” Sakura offered, her hips rocking suggestively.
“Now that sounds fun,” Sulu murmured, then grasped the back of her head, pulling her into a fierce kiss.
“What sounds fun?” Jeremy asked as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.
“Body painting,” Sakura called. “Tongo wants to paint Sulu’s cock.”
“That was your idea, Saki,” Sulu chuckled.
“I didn’t object,” Rad put in quickly.
“I’m in, babe,” Jeremy said. He came to the bed, sitting down, opening his hand. In it were four small multicolored capsules. “One for each of us,” he said.
Sakura eagerly reached over, taking one and popping it into her mouth. “Sweet visions,” she said, and closed her eyes.
Tongo, too, took one and swallowed it easily. Jeremy put the last two into his mouth, then came forward, kissing Sulu deeply, biting one of the tabs in half before transferring the partial dose to the helmsman with his tongue. Then he nuzzled Sulu’s neck, covering his whispered words.
“You can handle half, babe, and the xenoneurophene won’t do much to me.”
Sulu nodded and Jeremy pulled away.
It was something out of a dream, wavering and pleasantly distorted. The paints came first, teasing and artfully sensual. Sulu drew the careful, delicate, pink blossoms all the way around Sakura’s waist while she giggled and tried not to writhe under his touch. Tongo had been convinced to paint a sensual snake winding around Jeremy’s bicep. Then Paget and Tamura playfully held Rad down while Sulu slowly stripped the Sevrinite of every stitch of his clothing. The helmsman bent forward, his eyes gleaming, and leisurely began to lick the skin just below Rad’s navel. The young man’s cock was erect and quivering and Sulu let a cooling breath escape his lips, teasing the helpless flesh. “Easy, boy,” he murmured. “This is just the opening act. We’ve got a long way to go.” Then he took the paints, and covered the area he’d just cleaned with his family’s mon, overlaying it with an arching willow branch.
“Mmm, so pretty,” Sakura breathed.
“It moves,” Jeremy murmured. “God damn, it moves.”
“So does your snake,” Tongo added, sounding a little ridiculous.
Sulu laughed. “And not only the one on his arm,” he agreed. He sat back. “Let him up,” he said, then stared into Rad’s brown eyes. “Your turn, Tong,” he whispered. He tugged off the tight shorts and laid down.
Rad swallowed hard as he sat up. “What should I paint?” he managed.
“A hawk,” Sakura suggested.
“A sword,” Jeremy countered, then, “no, a dragon.”
Sulu chuckled. “I like that thought,” he said.
The touch of the paint was surreal, and Sulu let the exquisite sensation carry him to sensuous heights. He let his mind dwell on thoughts of Jilla, the soft brush becoming her fingertips and her hair, the liquid on his skin, her soft, moist lips and tongue. The xenoneurophene sang in his blood, pushing his latent empathy and he let it come, trusting Jeremy and Sakura to keep his vow of fidelity for him.
Jilla was in engineering when the sudden sensation flooded her being. She couldn’t understand it, but she knew well enough what it was: desire, Sulu’s tia calling to her. The images that came into her mind were splintered and unreal, but the emotion was of passion and possession and fierce sensuality.
Hurriedly she made her way to Scotty, asking to be relieved. She couldn’t explain, but she knew that her increasing shimmer would tell her chief that the situation was not a trivial one. Scott took one look at her and readily agreed, and she rushed to her cabin, trying to call to her husband. The feelings and images didn’t change, and she knew he couldn’t hear her. With breathless determination she laid down on their bed, holding tightly to his wedding ring, and let the emotions wash over her, hoping only that he would feel her communion.
Sulu was aware through the haze of hallucination that there was a great deal of sexual activity going on around him. Hands and fingers touched him in careful, artful, non-sexuality while giving out created imagery of intense physical union. He touched back, somehow without really touching, giving sensations of both exquisite pain and hungry pleasure. He thought he saw Sakura astride Tongo, her back arching in hedonistic fulfillment. He got fractured images of Jeremy both taking and being taken by the Sevrinite, along with the incongruous picture of himself doing the same – incongruous because he was watching it, not involved at all. He grinned, marveling at it, and decided to push a little with his xenoneurophene-heightened empathy – and was delighted when Rad cried out his name, orgasming in wide-eyed ecstasy. He did pull the Edenite into his arms, and he did kiss the sweat from the Catullan’s beaming face, but that was the extent of their contact. Jeremy and Sakura covered him in kisses, laughing with him, playing familiar, sensual ménage a trios to its glorious hilt. He was aware that, somewhere in there, his body had orgasmed as well, and wondered at it – until he relaxed into the fading kaleidoscope and saw, quite clearly, Jilla’s shuddering, satisfied body, her hand clenched around something that was on a chain around her neck.
Celletyea, he sent dreamily, and thought he heard her answering sigh:
Cortayel, tu i sina.
The kaleidoscope hallucinations had faded into a pleasant sense of exhaustion – though that could be the afterglow, too, Jeremy thought wryly – and the mission commander decided to check on the rest of his team. Sakura was curled against Sulu, contentedly running her fingers over the orchid she’d painted on his skin after the tumultuous sexual activity that hadn’t, of course, really included the helmsman. Sulu seemed completely oblivious to the world around him. Tongo was sound asleep. Paget wondered if the Sevrinite was at all used to Haven chemicals, or xenoneurophene.
He stretched, then left the bed, finding his clothes and exiting the small room.
He didn’t see Ruth or Daffy, but Del was still where he’d been, reclining on a large pillow set against an old cargo container, still surrounded by Eden-head groupies. The look on the engineer’s face was more peaceful than Paget could ever remember seeing. Jeremy sauntered over to him, dropping casually beside him.
“Brother, that felt fantastic!” he sighed in deep contentment. The Cajun glanced over at him, noting the cobra that wound its way up his arm.
“Nice. Who your decorator?” he commented wryly.
Jeremy chuckled. “Kam and Gypsy and Tongo.”
“They all prettied up too?
A sudden idea struck the security man. He needed to have a private conversation with the engineer regarding certain little blue pills, and what better way to appropriate him from his harem than with an offer of body-painting? “Yeah,” he answered. “You wanna come see? We can do you, too.”
Del chuckled. “Body paint an’ all?” he returned, making the proposal a nice innuendo. Paget snorted in appreciation.
“Given twenty minutes or so. And the paint should be dry by then.”
“Fine by me,” Del drawled, and pushed his way up from the pillows. “If y’all excuse me, ladies,” he said. “I be back prettier than ever.”
The girls giggled, each of them rising to kiss the engineer. Jeremy casually put an arm around the Cajun as he steered him to his room.
Sulu and Sakura had apparently fallen asleep, and Rad was snoring.
“What you be t'inkin’?” Del asked. “Long moss? Gator? Swamp rat?”
“Magnolia or swamp rose, take your pick,” Jeremy replied.
Del glanced over at Sulu’s sleeping form. “A rose’d irritate the fuck outta him,” he mused.
“Magnolia it is,” Jeremy said firmly.
“How ‘bout a heart ripped into itty bitty pieces right here?” Del suggested, pointing to his chest.
The security man put a gentle hand on the Cajun’s shoulder. “Don’t give it away like that, babe,” he said.
Del shrugged. As Jeremy began drawing the flower – as suggested, over the engineer’s heart – Del leaned back, sighing, his eyes closing. The momentary sense of distress, as mild as it was, faded completely.
“So,” Paget began, his voice artificially light. “Things are back to normal with you?”
“Normal?” Even the word sounded exotic on Del’s tongue. “Son, I ain’t never been normal t' go back to it.”
“I mean you’re a mere mortal again instead of Mr. Super Psychic Puppet Master?”
“Oh, that over…. That part at leas'.”
Jeremy frowned. “There’s a part that’s not over?”
“I gotta tell ya son, even th' comedown from this stuff a million times better than th' nex' best t'ing.”
“How so?”
“Inside here,” Del tapped his forehead. “It clear blue sky. I deaf as a post. Calm as a mudpuddle.”
“Well, that’s great.”
“I not have to be a sensitive to know you not t'ink that.”
Paget let that pass in silence. He considered for a while, concentrating on the body paint, putting together the words he needed to say to the engineer. “There was something I wanted to tell you...”
“Oh?” Del’s eyes were still closed, his face still holding none of the tension Jeremy was used to seeing there.
“Ruth’s married now.”
The dark eyes opened, the voice a condescending drawl. “Really? You t'ink someone woulda mention that to me by now.”
“That’s why I thought I’d say something.”
Del scowled. “You ‘bout to chide me fo' contemplatin’ conduct unworthy of an officer an' a gentleman?”
“If the lady had been agreeable,” Jeremy said carefully, “you’d’ve been engaging in conduct that I believe is still punishable by death on her husband’s home planet.”
“Vulcan barbarians,” Del murmured, still dripping contempt though his eyes had closed again.
Paget sighed. “Look, about these pills you’re taking…”
“They not sapphire,” the Cajun interrupted.
“I know, but they’ve got xenoneurophene in them…”
“Really.” The word wasn’t a question, and Jeremy frowned again.
“Yeah, really, and it’s bad for you…”
“So’s caffeine, sugar, an' good bourbon..”
“NC, this stuff could kill you.”
Del shrugged, unconcerned. “What a way to go.”
“So these pills really make you that happy?”
“Happy?” The engineer sat up a little straighter, looking his friend right in the eye. “Son, I have experienced psychic realities co-existin’ wit’ ours on planes an' dimensions so beyond your imaginin’ or understandin’ that I not begin to explain… I not begin to even understand it myself. The t'ings I see an' hear...” He paused. “An' experience in ways there not Human words fo'…” He shook his head wonderingly. “You not see it? I touched th' face of Eternity herself… kissed her forever-old cheek, then reached 'round an’ smacked her saucy, eternally young backside. I th' child of th' Universe, Jer. I been back to a home I never knew I had. An' you ask if I enjoy it? Hell, yeah! Strange t'ing be if I not.”
Jeremy had no response for this.
“Why, Jeremy Maurice Paget,” Del said, with a half-smile. “My ol’ friend an’ drinkin’ buddy since I was shoulder-high to a man -- You lookin’ at me as if you t'ink I 'bout to turn into some sort of incarnation o' Ultimate Evil.”
“Noel Christopher DelMonde,” Paget replied with a returned grin, “my old friend and buddy - for more than drinkin’ - since both of us were old enough to know how to get into trouble – Are you?”
“Jer…” Del rose from his seated position and laughed. “I no more evil now than I ever been.” He glanced down at his chest. “Though I am prettier.”
Paget’s smile faded as the engineer walked away. “Why am I not comforted?”
Ruth came out of her room after having a good long mental cry on Spock’s psychic shoulder. She was feeling a little better and was determined to somehow find a way to get Del clear of the xenoneurophene before he ended up shooting a phaser through his brain just to stop the shame that she was sure was going to sear his soul once he actually got it back. She’d gotten a much stronger, much more detailed impression from Sulu’s flash of psychic trauma – a telepath named Jonehez had seared his brains out in the guilt-ridden aftermath of some terrible manipulation. She only hoped Daffy and Sakura could find out what he’d done before the Loonies tried to get Del to do the same thing.
The cargo bay was pretty much empty. Only one or two Sevrinites were still lounging on the floor, and from the looks of things, they were intending on sleeping right there. She considered seeing if she could find the other Fleet officers, when she heard Daffy’s voice.
“No, it’s fine, I really need a nosh just now. Later, Lace, Stu – Roger.” Then the chemist was walking toward her. “Oy vey,” she muttered and Ruth couldn’t stop the stare. Just below Daffy’s clavicle, with its long stem extending down toward her breast, was painted a bright, yellow daffodil.
“Daffy?” she began.
“So I’ve gone native. So sue me,” Gollub muttered, then brightened. “Go on in, Mensch. You can get a butterfly or two.” She kept walking, and Ruth sighed, shrugging. She turned around, and saw Del exiting Sulu, Sakura and Jeremy’s room. He was moving with his customary, stalking, courgat grace with none of the trippy unsteadiness she’d been dreading.
“Del!” she called, stepping toward him, and she had to repeat it twice before he stopped.
“Not now, cher,” he said. “I jus’ wanna sleep while it still quiet.”
“Del, the xenoneurophene,” she began in a whisper.
“Not you too,” he sighed. “Go talk to Cobra, y’all can have a paranoia party.”
“It isn’t paranoia,” she insisted. “This is dangerous…”
“Yeah, yeah, I could die. I heard it, cher.” He grasped her hand, pulling it to his head. “Feel this, babe.” When she hesitated, he scowled. “I behave. Come on, jus’ feel it.”
Cautiously, Ruth reached out – into calm blue silence. It wasn’t the smothering blue of sapphire, nor the enveloping quiet of her own skills. This was silent. Utter, complete soundlessness. No invading emotions or thoughts. It was as if he were suddenly mind-blind. Quite suddenly she found it horrible.
“Yeah, horrible,” he said to her. “Maybe to someone who turn it on an' off all they life. But to me?” He grinned. “Babe, this worth a thousand thousand risks.” Then he leaned forward, kissing her, and turned, heading toward his cabin.
Go To Part Ten
Return To Part Eight
Please Come to Boston recorded by Harry Chapin