Return to Valjiir Stories
The doctors had moved the woman who wanted her father to a private room. Ruth sat in her bed, idly swinging her legs. Poor lady, she thought idly. Wonder what she’s so scared of? She isn’t Human. Is that why? Pale silver skin, burgundy hair – Empire of Somethingorother. Ruth sighed. It really wasn’t her business, and Dr. Han seemed to have things under control. But then, I’ll bet Dr. Han could have the Zehara under control if she wanted.
She stretched and looked up. Both Sulu and Jim were watching her. Sulu was smiling; not at her, but at her legs.
“How do you feel?” Jim asked.
“Confused, but healthy,” she replied. The sandy-haired man got up from his bed and came to sit next to her. Sulu moved on his bed to sit opposite them.
“Now what?” the good-looking Asian wondered. “I feel like I’ve just gotten out of a psycho-cin.”
“What’s that?” Ruth asked curiously, but Sulu had gone from staring at her legs to staring at Jim.
“I know you!” he blurted out. “I’ve seen your picture dozens of times. You’re James Tiberius Kirk.”
Jim winced. “Just Jim, please,” he said. “No parent should have the right to name a child Tiberius.”
“You’re lucky you’re not stuck with Maxwell,” Ruth said sympathetically.
“No, I mean you’re Captain Kirk,” Sulu said excitedly, “the youngest captain in Starfleet!”
“Yeah, sixteen,” Ruth giggled, and Sulu glared angrily at her.
“Woman, don’t you know anything?” He gestured imperiously at Jim. “ He’s as famous as Pike, or Garth of Izar!”
“I am?”
“He is? Who are they?” This time both men glared at her. “I know a Captain Decker,” she offered lamely.
“I’ve never heard of a Captain Decker,” Jim said to Sulu, “Or Pike, but I’ve read everything I can about Garth.”
“Decker’s captain of the Constellation,” Sulu told him. “Pike’s captain of the Enterprise.”
“And Spock’s her Science Officer,” Ruth added brightly. “I remember reading that.”
Both Jim and Sulu looked at her as if she were an idiot.
“Well, I’m not interested in all that military nonsense,” she defended herself. “I’m a scientist.”
The men again ignored her and began enthusiastically discussing Starfleet history.
“And I think Starfleet’s silly,” Ruth concluded to herself.
McCoy suggested that the easiest way to, as Jade had suggested, brief the patients of the missing aspects of their lives would be to use psycho-tricording implants to quick-feed them the data from their own personnel files. Spock agreed, and programmed the necessary feeds while McCoy described the procedure to Jim, Ruth and Sulu. Ruth looked skeptical, and Sulu was clearly uncomfortable until McCoy explained that there would be no recording of any information from them. Jim was eager and cooperative and Ruth again called him “brownnose”
The entire operation took about twenty minutes. The results were less than sterling. Ruth grinned and said, “Hot damn, I’m something!”
Sulu, also grinning, seemed to want to want more data on, as he put it, his personal life. Jim looked a little aghast as well as a little proud of how much information there was on his career.
Unfortunately, it didn’t help them remember any of it.
After spending a considerable amount of time dealing with Jilla’s utter dismay, Jade returned to the main Sickbay room. Ruth was laying on her bed on her stomach, picking at the braid on her uniform sleeve. Sulu and Jim were engrossed in an animated conversation. Leonard and Spock stood at the computer, talking quietly. She crossed the room to them.
“How is Mrs. Majiir?” Spock asked.
“Doing as poorly as might be expected,” Jade sighed. “She doesn’t understand how she could forsake her vows. It goes without saying that she has no conception of what The Time can do to a person.” Jade used the Vulcan euphemism in deference to the First Officer’s dignity. She nodded toward the three other patients. “How are they doing?”
“Jim and Sulu are spouting history lessons,” McCoy replied, grinning. “And Ruthie’s about as bored as anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“Have you any therapeutic possibilities, Doctor?” Spock asked.
Jade frowned. “Weren’t you going to fill them in on…” she began.
“We did,” Spock returned. “We gave them a psycho-tricorder feed of all the relevant information from their personnel files.”
“And?”
“They may know what happened,” McCoy answered, “But they don’t remember a damned thing.”
Jade raised her hand to the back of her neck, rubbing the tense muscles. “It’s not an hysterical amnesia,” she mused, “there’s nothing they’re suppressing. And there’s no actual tissue damage so the memory has to be there.” She glanced up, a wry grimace coming over her features. “What did people do before psycho-tricorders?”
“You suggesting we hit ‘em on the head?” McCoy asked dryly.
With an apologetic glance at Spock, Jade murmured, “If it would work, I might.” She straightened. “Spock, have you informed the crew?”
“No,” the Vulcan replied.
“We were kinda hoping he wouldn’t have to,” McCoy clarified.
“Well, if we’re going to let them out of Sickbay…”
“What?!” McCoy burst out.
“Doctor, are you certain that is wise?” Spock added.
“No, but telling them hasn’t worked,” Jade said. “Normal activity might.” She paused. “And I don’t know what else to try.” Again she grimaced. “I’m not suggesting they go on duty.”
“Hmm,” McCoy said thoughtfully, then glanced up at the First Officer. “Surely it’s worth a shot, Spock.”
The Vulcan considered for a moment, then nodded and went to the intercom.
“Your attention, please. This is Commander Spock. A transporter malfunction has left Captain Kirk, Lieutenant Commander Sulu, Lieutenant Ruth Valley and Lieutenant Jilla Majiir with partial temporary amnesia. They believe themselves to be sixteen years of age. You are hereby instructed to behave towards them as normally as possible, taking their lesser knowledge and abilities into account. They will not be on duty until this condition is corrected, but they have clearance for all decks, including the Bridge. I will be in command of the Enterprise until such time as the Captain regains his memory. Spock out.”
“That sums it up, all right,” McCoy said to Jade.
The com whistled and Uhura’s voice said, “Mr. Spock to the Bridge please. Acknowledge.”
Spock again activated the com. “Acknowledged,” he returned, then, with a final glance toward his wife, left Sickbay.
“Sir, there’s a message from Public Relations for the captain…” Uhura reported. She let the sentence trail off, shrugging helplessly.
“On the screen, Miss Uhura,” Spock replied at he took the con. He watched Dave Calvin’s animated face, listening to the commodore’s equally animated voice for several seconds before signaling Uhura to make a standard ‘message received’ reply. Then he thumbed the switch for a log entry.
“Captain’s Log, Commander Spock recording. The Enterprise has just received orders to prepare for a Federation Introductory Inspection for the Et’Rasenn, the newest race to join the Federation. They are a curious and not easily impressed people, and we are to present a ’more than usually perfect’ appearance, quotation from Commodore Calvin, with special attention from the ‘decorated Captain Kirk and highly honored Valjiir design team,’ again, Commodore Calvin’s words. Also, the Terran guide specifically asked for Lieutenant Commander Sulu’s presence, and ‘as it would be no inconvenience, you will, naturally comply;’ again, Calvin.
“However, as stated in the Medical Log this stardate, the four officers mentioned are in a state unfit for any inspection. While Doctors McCoy and Han assure me the condition will correct itself in a matter of days, we have only two until the diplomatic party arrives.”
“Doctors, we seem to have acquired an additional difficulty,” Spock’s image said from the com screen on McCoy’s desk.
“That’s still possible?” McCoy asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have spoken to Starfleet Command regarding the medical situation and have attempted to impress upon them the statistically insignificant likelihood of it being corrected within the next forty-eight hours…”
“Forty-eight hours?” Jade interrupted in alarm. “Why within forty-eight hours?”
“In forty-eight hours,” Spock explained, “the members of the Et’Rasenn diplomatic delegation will inspect this ship, and Commodore Calvin…”
“Calvin,” McCoy groaned. “Oh god.”
Spock paused for a moment. On the screen, his eyes closed. “Yes,” he said finally. “Fleet assures me there is no way to divert this potential disaster. Calvin assures me that we will ‘present our usual perfect appearance,’ and…” There was another pause. “The presence of the Captain, Mr. Sulu, Miss Valley and Mrs. Majiir was specifically requested.”
“You’re joking,” Jade nearly pleaded.
“Could it be a Klingon plot?” McCoy wondered sourly.
“Unlikely, Dr. McCoy, and Dr. Han, I’m afraid not.”
“And with Calvin on our side, who needs Klingons anyway?” McCoy muttered.
Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Commodore Calvin is an excellent public relations representative whose work for Starfleet has been more than successful.” A third pause. “However…”
“He brings and leaves disaster in his wake,” Jade concluded.
“Only, it seems, for Fleet personnel,” Spock agreed dryly. “The Federation considers him a genius. And we must deal with the inevitable.”
“Couldn’t we call the Klingons, give it a try…” McCoy suggested. He glanced at Jade’s frown and Spock’s lowered eyebrows, and cleared his throat. “Well, I do have another idea,” he went on quickly. “Jim had amnesia once before and Spock used the Vulcan mind meld to bring him out of it. Maybe we could try that before letting them loose.”
“Perhaps,” Jade said thoughtfully, with a glance at Spock. She waited for the Vulcan to nod before continuing. “But the conditions that caused the amnesia were quite a bit different, weren’t they?”
“Not really,” McCoy replied “Both times it’s been some kind of energy short.” He turned to the viewscreen. “Spock?”
“It is possible that such an attempt might prove successful,” the Vulcan answered. “At any rate, I do not think it could do much harm.”
“Spock, are you all right?!” Christine Chapel gasped as she rushed to the Vulcan’s side. Spock closed his eyes, clearing his mind of the violent rejection that had thrown him across the Sickbay with enough force to leave a sizeable lump on the back of his head. Rejection that had come from his wife.
“Nurse, I am…” he began as Chapel fussed solicitously over him.
And don’t try it again, mister! echoed with furious finality in his brain and he looked across the room to find Ruth glaring amethyst fire at him.
“Ruth, he was only trying to…” Chapel said.
“I know what he was trying to!” Ruth snapped. She glanced at Sulu who immediately took a step away from her. Jim, too, backed off. Jade spoke quietly to Jilla, trying to keep the Indiian calm. “I’m sorry,” Ruth went on, her voice softer. “It’s a natural reaction. I don’t let people into my head.”
“You’re being stubborn, Ruthie,” McCoy put in.
“Leave her, Doctor,” Spock broke in, and took his arm gently but insistently from Chapel’s grasp. “I am fine, Nurse,” he told her, and got to his feet.
“Are you going on?” Jade asked. Spock nodded.
Captain – Jim. Do not fear me. I seek your memories, not your confidences, though I do know you. Years there are between us, and much sharing; duty, missions, chess – friendship.
Spock gave images of dozens of separate incidents, great and small; snippets of conversation and interactions, help given and received, thoughts and strategies and banter shared; mutual encounters, experiences in common.
He received nothing but barely controlled panic and confusion and a desperate wanting to remember. Jim accepted that he was being told the truth, and wanted to be whole. But the memories were nowhere that Spock could touch.
Sulu’s mind was a dark morass of terror and panic that the Human tried to cover with arrogance. I am a telepath, but not to be feared, Spock tried to assure and the bravado got stronger. Very well, you fear nothing; then listen to me. There are thoughts that must be recalled; helmsman, lieutenant commander, security chief – husband to my rilain. Sudden anger welled inside Spock’s mind. Do you forget again?
At the sudden, panicked recoil, Spock deliberately calmed himself. No, forgive me, I am not here to frighten you.
But there was no memory within the Human’s mind, only an uneasy certainty that he’d been threatened and had better heel to. To what, Sulu still didn’t know.
“What did you to do that boy?” McCoy demanded after glancing at Sulu’s very pale face.
“I said the wrong thing, Doctor,” Spock replied.
“I can see that.” McCoy paused. “With the success rate so far, you’re not going near Mrs. Majiir, are you?”
“We have to try everything, Leonard,” Jade said, though her voice was dubious.
“Alright,” McCoy agreed, shaking his head, “But just you remember we don’t have an Ensign Valley handy if things get out of hand.”
Nurse Chapel, exclaimed, “Doctor!” at the same time a puzzled Ruth said,
“Huh?”
“Things, Doctor, will not get out of hand,” Spock stated sternly, and approached Jilla.
He was surprised at how easily she relaxed. He’d thought her hysteria would be difficult to overcome, but a few words of calming and her mind became as receptive and open as he could wish. There was something, some part of her that remembered, though there was no conscious memory, and he found the meld easy and nearly restful. Despite her changed external demeanor, within her mind she was as she had always been; willing, accepting, pleasant – and more than pleasant. He called, gently seeking, and there was fear, but not of him, only of an unknown. He found reassuring her was as easy as the meld itself.
He spoke her name and she shuddered with an emotion strong but hesitant, eager and fearful at the same time. Come to me, little one, I will not harm you.
A shiver of – desire? – breathless surrender, submissive, yielding compliance….
NO!
Spock abruptly pulled away, his eyes closing in concentration. He heard a soft cry from Jilla and McCoy muttering, “That’s what I was afraid of. The girl’s chemistry can’t help it.”
Spock glanced up, feeling Jilla’s helpless gaze as he turned from her. “I did keep control, Doctor,” he said, though it sounded defensive even to his own ears.
“Just barely,” McCoy grunted.
“What happened?” came from Jilla in a voice that was weak and uncertain.
“I told you about the genetic alteration,” Jade replied soothingly. “Spock is Vulcan. The intimacy of the meld…”
“Somebody turn her off,” Ruth complained loudly.
“If you don’t mind,” Jade began hotly, then visibly calmed herself. “Lieutenant Valley, Mrs. Majiir’s reactions are quite normal for an Indiian who’s…”
“Indi!” Ruth shouted. “Empire of Epsilon Indi, that’s what it is!”
“Maybe we should hit them on the head,” McCoy muttered confidentially to Jade.
Spock sighed, then addressed the doctors. “As this has proven ineffective, there is nothing left to do beyond releasing them from Sickbay?”
“I’m afraid not Spock,” Jade said apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” McCoy prompted. Jade scowled at him.
“One thing at a time, Leonard.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Jim suddenly chimed in. “I mean, it is my ship, right?”
“Yes, Captain,” Spock began, “however…”
“Don’t get carried away, Jim,” McCoy put in. “You don’t remember how to be a starship captain.”
“It isn’t like your sailboat, James,” Jade reminded. Jim stared at her, his face openly crestfallen.
“I know that,” he murmured.
“What about me?” Ruth asked stridently.
“What about you?” Jade replied tersely, turning to glare at the Antari.
Ruth blinked. “I just meant…”
Jade sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry Ruth.” She faced all four patients. “I’ll show you to your cabins. It’s past dinner, so if you’re hungry, you’ll have to call up what you want from the replicators in your quarters. Try to get a good night’s rest and we’ll see if anything’s changed in the morning.”
“Doctor Han?” Jilla began tremulously. Jade turned. The Indiian was still staring at Spock. “I thought you said… he’s supposed to be… I shouldn’t even feel it for… but I do and… and he… he calls, and…”
Jade quickly grabbed for Jilla’s hands, fearing another bout of hysteria. The Indiian had gone from staring at Spock, to staring at Sulu, then back to Spock. Jade also noticed Ruth’s noticing as the violet eyes followed Jilla’s.
“Make up your mind,” Ruth murmured, and Sulu suppressed a chuckle. Jilla was abruptly staring again at him. He straightened, smiled most engagingly, and Jilla burst into tears.
“Thanks,” Jade said dourly. McCoy moved in quickly with a sedative. “Do something with your wife,” Jade said to Spock, then smiled wearily at the two male patients. “Gentlemen, if I may assume that much, will you come with me?”
The cloud tapestry and the guitar were the only familiar things in the room. Everything else, was strange, alien, unfamiliar or masculine. From what she had read recently – eight years ago! – about Vulcan, all this paraphernalia was right. Such a nice, logical, unemotional race, and the place is bristling with what all the tapes call ‘ceremonial objects.’ What do they do, ritually disembowel themselves?
The plants were nice, and probably hers. Not much foliage in a desert, she mused. There was a lyrette hanging on the wall above her guitar. He’s a musician then. That gives us something in common. A chess set stood, a game half-played, on a side cabinet. Something else we share. Maybe this won’t be a total disaster. She frowned at a case full of computer tapes and a long shelf of real books and walked over to it. She realized Spock’s eyes were following her and suddenly felt very self-conscious. He’d escorted her to ‘their’ cabin, and was standing, watching her. Damn, it feels creepy! she shuddered. To cover her nervousness, she pulled a tape out and read the title. To her relief it was a work on computers by – Ruth M. Valley? But… Eight years, remember?
She gingerly put the tape back where she had found it and stepped hurriedly away from the case.
How the hell did I get here anyway? she found herself wondering. They had fed her all the pertinent data, but none of it explained anything. According to them, she had joined Starfleet at eighteen. Why? She had graduated at the top of her class of course and had been assigned to train under Spock. Was part of the assignment to marry him? She blushed at the memory of the daydreams she had indulged in a few weeks – many years – before. They ain’t daydreams now, bubelah. She glanced at Spock and stopped a second blush, turning before he saw her staring at him.
There was also something called Valjiir. Apparently I’ve co-designed a number of interesting things with Jilla ‘I want my Daddy’ Majiir. Facts. All well and good, but where are the memories that make any of this important to me? And why does he just stand there staring at me? Wonderful, I’ve acquired a Vulcan shadow. And I’m twenty-five.
Twenty-five. I thought I was going to dedicate my life to music and decadence if I ever got finished with school. And here I am with a steady job where I have to do what I’m told or else, and a husband, all cozy and settled – and dull!
She snuck another covert glance at Spock. Well, he is kind of pretty, and I know he’s intelligent… but I bet he isn’t Jewish. Abba and Savta aren’t going to like that. I didn’t think Fleet people got married anyway. None of this makes any sense. I think I’m beginning to agree with Majiir’s assessment of this situation: Daddy!
Ruth jumped as Spock suddenly moved past her. He glanced at her once as he crossed the room. She stared uncomfortably as he pulled off his shirt and took a deep reddish-brown robe out of the closet. He sat on the edge of the bed and began pulling off his boots. Ruth felt confusion growing to panic and headed for the door. “Excuse me,” she mumbled and prepared to flee.
He looked up and the calm reassurance in his eyes stopped her. He held out his hand, two fingers extended toward her. She stared blankly at him. He sighed and said, “Ruth, come here.”
She shook her head and began backing toward the door.
“You are behaving like a frightened child,” he told her. “I will not…”
“I am not!” Ruth exclaimed.
“…harm you,” Spock finished.
Ruth shook her head, stepping away from the door. “I know that. I’m just not tired.”
“I said nothing about going to bed,” the Vulcan explained patiently.
Ruth swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not. Not now. I mean….” Her words trailed off into an embarrassed shrug. “Sorry.”
“No apologies are necessary,” he said. “You are my wife. The notion of sleeping with you is not one for embarrassment or nervousness.”
Ruth’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then she burst out, “I’m not nervous! It’s just that I don’t remember!” she insisted defensively.
Spock’s head tilted slightly to one side. “Very well. Would you be more comfortable out of uniform?”
“Now wait a minute, you just said…”
“And into other apparel, Ruth,” Spock clarified.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess so,” Ruth mumbled.
Why are you so embarrassed around this man? she chided herself. You’re never embarrassed – at least, I never have been before. And I don’t like it.
Maybe it’s the way he keeps looking at me.
You mean the way he keeps seeing you.
Yeah, well, nobody’s got that right. Nobody!
She stood where she was, watching him as he had watched her. After a moment’s pause, he got up, crossing again to the wardrobe. He removed a short, simple gown of bright green silk, extending it toward her.
“Thanks,” she said tonelessly as she took it from him.
“You are welcome, farrei.”
She stared. “What?”
“Farrei,” Spock repeated. “It is Vulcan. It means ‘my wife,’”
“Oh,” she said again. She started to turn away from him to change her clothes, then stubbornly forced herself to face him as she gracefully pulled off her blue tunic as well as the dark tights and boots, then slid into the dress he’d given her as sensually as she knew how. When she looked at him, his eyes were warm with gentle appreciation and she blushed. “Damn!” she muttered angrily.
“Ruth, if you are hesitant about behaving as my wife,” Spock asked calmly, “Why do you deliberately attempt to seduce me?”
Ruth screeched as she scooped one of her boots off the deck, hurling it straight at the Vulcan’s head. He agilely side-stepped it. It made her even angrier and she threw the other one, screaming obscenities. He ducked again, and she reached for something else potentially lethal and his hand was suddenly around her wrist, his dark eyes boring into her.
“You will stop this infantile behavior,” he told her. “You are twenty-five, you believe yourself to be sixteen, surely you can act at least seven.”
“Let me go!” she demanded as she tried to struggle out of his grasp. He waited a moment and then released her.
“Behave,” he ordered.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted back.
“Ruth, I am attempting to treat you as I normally do. You are making it impossible.”
“I don’t care! I don’t remember any of this and your behavior ain’t so great either!”
“I am your husband.”
“Leave me alone!” She attempted to bolt and he again grabbed her wrists. She struggled, then let out an ear-splitting scream. His eyes closed, he took a deep breath, and let her go. She scrambled wildly to the door and out of the room.
Sulu sat on the bed, looking around the rooms that beautiful Dr. Han had said were his quarters. Dr. Han. He smiled. If he could just… Don’t be an idiot, she’s old enough to be… but I’m not sixteen, at least she keeps telling me I’m not. And like that matters anyway.
But she also keeps telling me I’m married.
Shit. Married. And I’ve barely begun an interesting bachelorhood. He frowned. I wish I was back at Stephanie’s. Or at the Clave. Or up at Cal’s. He smiled again. Or in Dr. Han’s bedroom. That pretty Ruth would be…
She’s married too, and to a Vulcan. Better not try her.
There’s always your wife.
Wife. Shit.
He got up, examining the cabin. There was very little of his – or at least that he remembered as his. The Amida Buddha was his mother’s, the katana and wakazashi were his father’s. He recognized two of the historic weapons in the elaborate display case. There was a complete set of samurai ceremonial garb in the wardrobe, but he didn’t remember it.
There was, of course, jewelry and dresses and perfume that he knew had to be Jilla’s, and drafting tools and a lyrette that he wasn’t sure about. She was an engineer, though, and she was supposed to have been married to a Vulcan before –
That whole mess doesn’t make any sense. Indiians are crazy anyway. And I wish she’d stop looking at me the way she does – or at least stop bursting into tears when I return it. He turned suddenly at the hiss of the door.
“I’ll be right next door if you need me,” Dr. Han was saying. “Please, Jilla, try not to worry about understanding it. Your memory will come back. Just act on what you feel and don’t worry about it.”
The door closed between Jilla and Dr. Han and Sulu cleared his throat. Jilla jumped, then turned so rapidly it was almost spinning.
“Hi,” he said. She stared at him, then lowered her gaze, blushing. “They say we live here.”
“I know,” she returned. Her voice was soft, with a beautiful accent. Sulu waited for more of a comment. When she didn’t go on, he shrugged.
“You recognize anything here?” he asked, gesturing. “I remember some of this stuff, but…”
“My tools!” she exclaimed suddenly, and crossed the room to one of the two desks, grabbing the case of drafting tools. She examined them, then clutched them to her like a shield as she stared around the rest of the cabin. Sulu watched, becoming fascinated at the swift play of animated emotions in her expression. Then she moved to the dresser, her grey eyes growing wide with awe and wonder. She reached out hesitantly, touching a velvet-lined case that contained some sort of crystal jewelry. “That’s dylithium!” she whispered, then gingerly lifted an exquisitely-shaped tear-drop pendant. “Cut dylithium!” She slowly revolved it, letting its fire catch the light. Sulu whistled in soft appreciation of its beauty. Jilla turned to him, “Someone is rich,” she said.
He grinned. “It’s either you or me,” he replied. She smiled and he was struck by the delicate beauty of her features. Then she turned again, setting the pendant back in the case.
“I don’t recognize anything else,” she said, once again quiet and tenuous. Sulu was beginning to find her unassuming insecurity more than a little charming. He was conscious of the straightening of his body as he walked over to the lyrette on its stand.
“I think this is probably yours,” he said. “Dr. Han said you lived on Vulcan.”
She glanced up, her face faintly shimmering. “I don’t remember that,” she replied, almost stubbornly.
“Yeah. There’s a lot we don’t remember,” he offered conciliatorily.
Jilla walked over to the bed, and Sulu found himself carefully memorizing her grace and innocent seductiveness and the lines of her full, voluptuous body. He was smiling appreciatively at the curvature under the engineering insignia of her red uniform when he noticed her staring at him, the faint shimmer becoming more pronounced.
“I really don’t remember – any of it,” she said, her voice trembling.
She’s gonna start crying now, Sulu thought with rueful distaste.
“I wish she hadn’t told me,” The Indiian continued. “I don’t understand how I could be wed and yet feel so strongly attracted…” she stopped speaking, her eyes again lowering. “And I am a virgin,” she finished quietly.
Great, that’s all I need. Sulu sighed, and threw himself on the bed. I timed everything, carefully conserved enough energy for a memorable good morning with Steph for this? It’s not fair.
He closed his eyes, then realized there was only the one bed. His conscience twinged and he got up. “Uh, Jilla? You can have the bed.” I’m gonna sleep under a cold shower, he added privately. She didn’t answer and he looked at her. There were tears in her eyes.
“You don’t want me?” she stammered.
“I didn’t say that…”
“I don’t remember this and Dr. Han said to act how I feel but I don’t know how I feel except when I look at you and I don’t know why and you’re no help at all!” She had gone from a whimpering pout to furious shouting, tears spilling onto her cheeks, her entire body shaking, and she threw herself against the room divider.
The outburst more than startled Sulu, and he flushed, deeply chagrinned. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Some husband!” Jilla retorted. “Roshian disgrace to your father’s name!”
“Now wait a minute…”
“At least you know who you are!” she continued ranting. “I am told I’m wed, and Vulcan, and my palm, and my ears, and I’ve never thought it but I’m suddenly telmnor and he saved my life in some mating ritual and you're supposed to be my husband which you can’t be but I feel you within me and I want it and I love you and my name’s not Majiir!”
The tears had disappeared in indignant anger, then that had turned to confusion, and with her final words, she burst into renewed weeping. She dropped to the bed, her hands covering her face. Sulu swallowed, wanting to comfort her, but more than distraught himself. It isn’t my fault – I don’t think. Is it?
He sat beside her, awkwardly pulling her into his arms.
“Please don’t cry!” He felt the frustration building up inside him. “I can’t stand it when a girl cries. I’m sorry, Jilla, I don’t know what to do, just please don’t cry anymore!” He stroked her hair, holding her tightly, rocking her, and without thinking, kissed her forehead. She tilted her head up, her tear-filled eyes shining with confusion and a timorous yet intense longing.
“You kissed me,” she breathed.
Sulu blinked. Her mood swings were making him dizzy. ‘Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Do you want me?” It was a child-like question and Sulu shivered.
“I…” Do I? Stupid question. He took a breath. “You’re very pretty.”
Jilla blushed, coyly lowering her head. What kind of game is she playing? he thought, suddenly wary. Then she whispered, “Thank you. So are you,” and looked up, smiling shyly.
Is this a come-on? I think so. I’m getting awfully acquiescent vibrations. But she’s so – one minute she’s – and the next – Her voice interrupted his thoughts.
“I’m sorry I confuse you. I don’t mean to. Indiians are sensitives. I can feel the emotions of others. I don’t always sort them out too well from my own, and I can’t always understand them. So I can seem a little – confounded – at times, when I don’t…”
“It’s alright, I understand,” Sulu broke in. You’re gonna drive me crazy, but it’s alright. He held her, fighting the urge to shake his head.
“You do not!” Jilla pouted.
Fuck it! Sulu got up, pushing her away. “Okay, fine, I don’t care!” he shouted. “Let me know when you make up your damned mind! I’m gonna get wasted!”
Jim sat on his bed, staring at the wall. I’m the captain of a heavy cruiser, and forty years old, he thought glumly, almost as distressed by his reaction as by how unsuited he felt. God, how could I have lost so much time? My life’s been pretty impressive, but what good does it to me when I don’t remember it? I can’t be a captain now. What am I going to do? Relearn it? There’s twenty-four years to learn! And even if I could, how do I regain a quarter of a century of experience?
He focused his gaze on the neat row of books above the head of his bed. It was the complete set of Forester’s Horatio Hornblower series. He’d found all eleven volumes. To the side was a model of a ship, and on closer inspection he realized it was the Windstar. A plaque beneath it said, “Congratulations Captain James T. Kirk – Sam and Aurelian.”
Jim smiled. That was so like Sam. It was probably in memory of the cruise they were on – had been on. How did that come out, anyway? I hope someday I’ll remem –
No, I don’t think I want to. The data Dr. McCoy gave me said Sam’s dead. Aurelian too. And that I have a nephew, Peter.
He shook off the thought and got up, walking slowly around the cabin. There wasn’t much else he remembered here. He spotted a glass sculpture that looked like his mother’s work, but he’d never seen that particular one. He carefully lifted it and turned it over. Sure enough, there was the signature, Dorothy Elaine Kirk. He shook his head, feeling odd and out of place and very, very homesick.
The door signal startled him and he went to the door, opening it manually. Dr. Han smiled at him. “May I come in, James?”
Jim stepped aside gallantly, returning her smile. “Sure, Doctor.”
“You can call me Jade,” she said as the door closed behind her.
“Alright – Jade.” After a moment, Jim realized he was gazing at her appreciatively, and she had noticed. He flushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she assured him. “I hardly mind.” She gave him another smile. “I just wanted to know if anything here seems at all familiar to you.”
“Well…” Jim looked around again. “My books, at least some of them. And that’s a model of my ship, the Windstar. And my mother did that sculpture.”
“But that’s all,” Jade finished ruefully.
“I’m afraid so.” There was silence for a moment. “Do you think I’ll get it back – my memory, I mean?” Jim asked quietly.
Jade gave him a sympathetic look. “It worries you, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I’m not like the others. I’ve lost more than I remember. It’s kind of scary.”
Jade sat down on the edge of the desk. “I know. It’s alright, really.”
“Sure,” Jim said with a faint grin. “Is there anyway I can – relearn some of…” His voice trailed off as he stared down at Dr. Han’s more than pretty legs. She didn’t seem to notice. At least, she kept talking to him.
“I’m sure it can be arranged, James.”
He felt himself flushing and hoped he stopped it before it colored his face. “Uh – why do you call me ‘James’?”
She smiled again, warm and gentle and very becoming, he thought. “It’s your name,” she replied.
“But… well, Jim is…”
“I know. But James is too strong a name to shorten.”
Jim bent his head, no way to stop the reddening this time. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Jade.”
He grinned. “Jade. Sorry.”
She stared at him a little longer, then he thought he saw her blush herself, and she stood up. “The crew’s been informed of your condition, James,” she said, “so in the morning, don’t feel you have to stay in your quarters. As a matter of fact, it might be helpful if you spend time with the crew. It might jar your memory.”
“You’re the doctor,” Jim grinned.
“Yes,” Jade murmured. “What a shame.” She turned and went to the door. “My quarters are next door if you need me.”
Jim shook his head as she left. The lovely Jade Han confused him almost as much as Aurelian did.