Title: The Man and the Memory (4/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Sequel to The Boy and the Sea Dragon. McCoy wakes up and finds that his world has been turned upside down.
Previous Part: 1 | 2 | 3

Part Three

Jem-me.

The face in the mirror is a young, hard-eyed Captain Kirk. Beneath the facade lies a monster.

The image of the man fades first to a soft blur of washed-out colors; then it drains away completely to unmitigated black. Reflection-less, the creature flicks a thought into that void.

Jem-me.

A hesitation and a stirring.

One lone thought floats weakly to the surface. It is a simple, forlorn Hello?

Awaken, young one, says the thing which wears a face not its own.

There is a stretch of silence while the echo of the Hello? grows strong, takes form and vibrancy. It becomes something else then—a recognition.

A name.

Jem—Jimmy? More forcefully, Jim.

Yes, agrees the other. You are the remnants of a human named James Tiberius Kirk.

The thoughts—there are a jumble of them now—pull back when the creature reaches out with wonder.

Do not be afraid.

The thoughts chatter that they don’t understand what that means.

It commands softly, Remember.

There is a pause, then a flash of color. The creature draws out the memory of a babe against a mother’s breast, content. Another flash—the elation of a young boy sprinting through a corn field, his heart pumping, breath letting loose in short bursts. The memories develop, one after the other, like a picture book.

The creature says suddenly, intensely, Stop! I have little use for these. It concentrates and forces its will to wrap around those pieces of Jim Kirk. Remember the starship, it feeds into the chaotic mass. A thought greedily latches onto a laughable image of a starship, as if drawn by a child, and transforms it into a gleaming, glorious Enterprise.

Now within the ship… friends. A muted shape of a tall being.

Jim puzzles over the offering briefly before carefully molding a loyal First Officer named Spock.

The creature rumbles satisfication and gives the next barely formed creation, not as tall but which softly whispers Jim, jim, jim… like a siren’s call.

The doctor Bones is born of an ease and an attention to delicate detail.

The thoughts coalecse into something firmer, more daring, and surround these objects with pleasure.

Remember now, Jem-me, remember them and give all to me…

But the thoughts do not.

They resist and cry Mine!

No is the almost gentle correction, like a parent to its offspring. The memories belong to me.

I am Jim, insists these thoughts, unexpectedly outlined as a man. There is a sheen of gold lining the edges.

You were Jem, it answers serenely. You have relinquished your claim on your destiny. You are no more.

It reaches for the starship, the Vulcan, and the doctor but cannot take them back. This shining gold (alive) human—a series of determined thoughts and feelings (the essence of the soul) is almost solid, and it fights to hold onto its gifts.

The creature feels a momentary pity for the pathetic Jem-me before using a sharp-edged thought like the strike of a mace to break apart that which had attempted to become whole. Transformed back into free floating thoughts, a collective rage builds.

It croons, Sleep. Forget.

Never!

Such amusing defiance.

The creature/sea dragon/monster with no name does what it was born to, lulls its prey back into oblivion with a low warbling hum.

When Jim has subsided into nothing, once again a broken melee of human shards, the not-Captain Kirk releases the mirror back to its proper state and considers its options. It walks dangerous ground with this face as long as Jem-me’s friends live. It wanted to learn more of the boy’s past with the ones named Spock and McCoy, to prepare for swaying these potentially troublesome ones into believing it is Jim Kirk.

Jem-me is a difficult man to control, even locked away in the Abyss. It had not anticipated resistance; Jem-me should not harbor a self independent of his master.

An underestimation of a lively bit of prey.

The creature looks at its human face, smooth and strange. The structure of the skull shifts beneath skin before settling back into shape.

This is a face and a destiny to be enjoyed. It won’t bring Jem-me back again unless its need is dire. One mistake will be one too many—and create an opportunity for Jem-me to escape.

“Maybe we ought to rethink this…” McCoy peers around the entrance to one of Scotty’s favorite hide-outs in Engineering. The Scotsman is perched on a metal panel, idly tapping a booted foot and engrossed in a PADD which could only be drolly highlighting the epic debate betweeen conductor trillium coils versus old-fashioned something-or-other. (The doctor would rather chew rocks than pay attention to Scotty’s excited yammering over the latest tech journal.)

There is an irritatingly silent Vulcan at his back. Leonard decides that Spock must agree with the doctor’s infinitely wiser suggestion of retreat and shuffles backwards with every intention of forcing Spock to take a yielding step into the corridor when a hand plants firmly between his shoulder blades and shoves him into the open doorway.

The man only has a split second to swallow his budding exclamation of “Spock!” before Scotty looks up, startled, at the sight of Dr. Leonard McCoy.

Montgomery Scott’s “Doctor!” is pleasantly surprised but quickly gives way to a shadow of concern. “Are ye alright? Ye aren’t lost?”

Leonard clears his throat, thinks in for a penny, in for a pound, and steps fully into the small, warm alcove of quietly murmuring engines. “Er, hi there.” Smooth, McCoy. “I, uh, I’m not lost. I mean, I could be lost since the whole ship’s so damn convoluted but…” Fuck, I’m babbling. He clears his throat again and stares at Scotty, silently tossing the conversational ball into the engineer’s lap.

Scotty blinks once, twice.

Leonard looks pained and says, “You know about my memory loss, I suppose?”

The man nods and replies, “Aye. And a right tragedy that is, Doctor. The Enterprise has given us some fine things to remember over these last few years.”

Really? McCoy approaches that honest face and tells him, “I am remembering some things. You, actually.”

“Me?”

“The palms of your hands…” he says with a sudden flash of insight. “You burned them severely that time one of the bulkheads collapsed near Chamber Six. Ensign Yarrow—” He sucks in a breath.

“I couldnae save her,” finishes Scotty sadly.

Idiot! Even a wit-addled man doesn’t have an excuse to spread misery. McCoy’s apology is sincere. “I’m developing a bad habit of sticking my foot in my mouth,” explains Leonard grimly.

Scotty makes a noise of it’s alright and nevermind, you’re forgiven. He switches the subject. Leonard is grateful.

“It’s a good thing ye are recovering, Doctor McCoy. This ship misses her CMO.”

“Well I won’t be practicing quite yet. Jim says I’ve got to retrieve all my marbles before I can go about antagonizing people with hyposprays.”

Scotty looks at him strangely. “The Captain said that?”

No. The Captain had said, “You are on medical leave until deemed capable of working.” But while that didn’t seem odd at the time (it’s not like McCoy had anything to compare it to) his mind tugs him into a different view. Somehow, McCoy thinks a man like Jim—a man who should be his very close friend—would be more teasing. Although, Leonard is uncertain why he enjoys the idea of antagonizing Jim with a sharp object.

He mentally slaps himself and focuses on the here-now. “You know Jim,” hedges the doctor.

Scotty’s agreement is half-hearted and followed by a troubled downturn of his mouth.

He has to ask, “Something wrong?”

A shrug clearly means maybe.

Now is the time to get information, to inspect for possible signs of a dire situation from another perspective. It isn’t that McCoy disbelieves Spock, but he, well, for all intensive purposes only met the Vulcan a little over two days ago. Confirmation would be good, despite that McCoy feels a mild guilt for wanting it. He has to know that Spock’s suspicions are not unwarranted or the product of a lunatic First Officer.

Leonard is full of questions because he is almost literally empty of a knowledge base—at least, on a social level.

He tries to mimic a casual, friendly slump near but not too close to Scotty. “Can you… tell me a little about Captain Kirk?”

The engineer runs a hand over his PADD before abandoning it to fully address McCoy’s inquiry.

“I see no harm in it, though ye have known the Capt’n longer than I. Strange, that we’d having such a conversation. Nay, nay,” insists Scotty at Leonard’s attempt to withdraw his question. “Capt’n Kirk is a fine man and there’s naught a crewman aboard who doesn’t appreciate what an honor it is to serve under ‘im.”

Jim definitely has a loyal fanbase, thinks McCoy. He idly wonders if that can make a man a better or worse captain.

Scotty launches into one of Kirk’s heroic feats, even becoming so entrenched in the tale that he imitates Captain Kirk’s mighty punches—a tale which Leonard suspects is a tad exaggerated. (There’s no way someone could make a Klingon “weep tears of remorse”—blood, maybe, but not remorse.) Despite all, Leonard finds himself grinning and chuckling.

They share, rather McCoy listens and Scotty happily chats, a good number of minutes comfortably walking down memory lane. (For Leonard, it is new and intriguing.) Scotty is halted in the middle of “…and then I tried to warn the Capt’n that the drink had a fierce kick to her but he downed the whole—” when a wall comm crackles to life.

“Mr. Scott! Engine Room to Mr. Scott!”

Scotty rolls his eyes heaven-ward and talks into the unit, “Calm down, lad. What’s this about?”

“Sir, we think—there’s a code going off—”

The ship hiccups and Leonard cringes.

Oh shit.

The speaker is now frantically talking gibberish as Mr. Scott gasps with horror. His “Dinnae touch anything, ANYTHING!” is already trailing away as the engineer fairly sprints out of the alcove. Leonard peeks down the corridor, listening to the lingering echoes of heavily accented cursing.

“You did well, Doctor.”

McCoy jumps, turns on the voice’s owner and doesn’t hesitate to give Spock his opinion of sneaky Vulcans who cause heartattacks in ailing patients.

Spock has to be amused. There is just no other way to read that body language.

“Well?” grumps the doctor next.

“I was successful in my endeavors.”

“Great. Mission To Be Caught and Tossed Out of an Air-lock is going as planned. Remind me why I’m such a nutball for agreeing to your crazy scheme.”

“I anticipate that you will remember those reasons in due time,” answers the unperturbed Vulcan.

Leonard sighs. “So you’ve prevented warp speed. Now what?”

“We wait.”

“For?”

Spock shows a hint of uncertainty for the first time that Leonard can remember (although, granted, that doesn’t cover a large span of time). “If the Captain retains Jim’s education, then he will seek us out.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he replies with hesitation.

“It is not. Under those circumstances, the Captain will realize there is doubt of his identity among the crew.” Spock pauses.

Leonard notes that Spock did not say his crew.

“We must prepare for investigation.”

After a moment of thought, McCoy meets Spock’s eyes. “Then we’ll be prepared—and ready to investigate him in return.”

Spock gives a slight nod. Then, in an unspoken agreement to speak no more of the events they may face, he leads McCoy back to the upper decks. “Come. You must rest.”

Leonard settles for matching the Vulcan’s stride and proposing a compromise that McCoy naps when Spock naps. His friend doesn’t resist overly much.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• The Man and the Memory (8/8) – from January 7, 2011
• The Man and the Memory (7/?) – from January 6, 2011
• The Man and the Memory (6/?) – from January 4, 2011
• The Man and the Memory (5/?) – from January 3, 2011
• The Man and the Memory (3/?) – from December 29, 2010