Star Trek 04 Read Online Free Page A
was doing, he found himself leaning forward and lifting McCoy off the bed.
"I don't like that," he said. "I don't believe I ever did. Now I'm sure."
McCoy did not look in the least alarmed. He simply seemed to by studying Spock intently. "What is it, Spock?" he asked. "What's happening?"
Spock let him drop. "Nothing that shouldn't have happened long ago."
"Long ago," McCoy said softly. The intent scrutiny did not waver. "Yes, I guess so . . . Long ago."
The stare disturbed the First Officer, for reasons he did not understand. Wheeling, he went into the underground living room, where Zarabeth was setting a table. She looked up and smiled.
"Ready soon. Would you like a sample?"
"Thank you, but I am not hungry."
She came over and sat down near him. "I can imagine how you must feel. I know what it's like to be sent here against your will."
"My feelings, as you call them, are of no concern," Spock said. "I have accepted the situation."
"I cannot pretend that I am sorry you are here, though I realize that it is a misfortune for you. I am here against my will, too, just as you are."
"I'm sorry I know of no way to return you to your own time."
"I don't mean that I wish to return," Zarabeth said. "This is my time now. I've had to face that. But it has been lonely here. Do you know what it is like to be alone, really alone?"
"Yes. I know what it is like."
"I believe you do. Won't you eat something? Please?"
"If it pleases you." He walked to the table and surveyed it. He felt a faint shock, but it seemed far away. "This is animal flesh."
There isn't much else to eat here, I'm afraid."
"Naturally, because of the climate. What is the source of heat in this shelter?"
'There is an underground hot spring that furnishes natural steam heat and power."
"And there is sunlight available outside. Excellent. It should be possible to build a greenhouse of sorts. Until then, this will have to do as a source of nourishment." He picked up the most innocuous-looking morsel, surveyed it with distaste, and bit into it. It was quite good; he took another.
"There aren't many luxuries here," Zarabeth said, watching him with evident approval. "Zor Khan left me only what was necessary to survive."
"But he evidently intended you to continue living," Spock said, sampling another dish.
"Yes. He gave me weapons, a shelter, food—every thing I needed to live—except companionship. He did not want it said that he had had me killed. But to send me here alone—if that is not death, what is? A very inventive mind, that man."
"But insensitive, to send such a beautiful woman into exile." Instantly, he was badly startled. "Forgive me! I am not usually given to personal remarks."
"How could I possibly take offense?" Zarabeth said.
Spock scarcely heard her. "The cold must have affected me more than I realized. Please—pay no attention. I am not myself."
And that, he thought, was an understatement. He was behaving disgracefully. He had eaten animal flesh—and had enjoyed it! What was wrong with him? He put his hands to his temples.
"I say you are beautiful," he said, feeling a dawning wonder. "But you are beautiful. Is it so wrong to tell you so?"
Zarabeth came to him. "I have longed to hear you say it," she said softly.
Then she was in his arms. When the kiss ended, he felt as though a man who had always been locked up inside him had been set free.
"You are beautiful," he said, "beautiful beyond any dream of beauty I have ever had. I shall never stop telling you of it."
"Stay," she whispered. "I shall make you happy."
"My life is here."
"You lie," said a voice from the doorway. Spock spun, furious with McCoy and enjoying it.
"I speak the present truth," he said. "We are here, for good. I have given you the facts."
"The facts as you know them. But you are also being dishonest with yourself, and that's also something new for you. You accepted Zarabeth's word because it was what you wanted to believe. But Zarabeth is a woman condemned to
"I don't like that," he said. "I don't believe I ever did. Now I'm sure."
McCoy did not look in the least alarmed. He simply seemed to by studying Spock intently. "What is it, Spock?" he asked. "What's happening?"
Spock let him drop. "Nothing that shouldn't have happened long ago."
"Long ago," McCoy said softly. The intent scrutiny did not waver. "Yes, I guess so . . . Long ago."
The stare disturbed the First Officer, for reasons he did not understand. Wheeling, he went into the underground living room, where Zarabeth was setting a table. She looked up and smiled.
"Ready soon. Would you like a sample?"
"Thank you, but I am not hungry."
She came over and sat down near him. "I can imagine how you must feel. I know what it's like to be sent here against your will."
"My feelings, as you call them, are of no concern," Spock said. "I have accepted the situation."
"I cannot pretend that I am sorry you are here, though I realize that it is a misfortune for you. I am here against my will, too, just as you are."
"I'm sorry I know of no way to return you to your own time."
"I don't mean that I wish to return," Zarabeth said. "This is my time now. I've had to face that. But it has been lonely here. Do you know what it is like to be alone, really alone?"
"Yes. I know what it is like."
"I believe you do. Won't you eat something? Please?"
"If it pleases you." He walked to the table and surveyed it. He felt a faint shock, but it seemed far away. "This is animal flesh."
There isn't much else to eat here, I'm afraid."
"Naturally, because of the climate. What is the source of heat in this shelter?"
'There is an underground hot spring that furnishes natural steam heat and power."
"And there is sunlight available outside. Excellent. It should be possible to build a greenhouse of sorts. Until then, this will have to do as a source of nourishment." He picked up the most innocuous-looking morsel, surveyed it with distaste, and bit into it. It was quite good; he took another.
"There aren't many luxuries here," Zarabeth said, watching him with evident approval. "Zor Khan left me only what was necessary to survive."
"But he evidently intended you to continue living," Spock said, sampling another dish.
"Yes. He gave me weapons, a shelter, food—every thing I needed to live—except companionship. He did not want it said that he had had me killed. But to send me here alone—if that is not death, what is? A very inventive mind, that man."
"But insensitive, to send such a beautiful woman into exile." Instantly, he was badly startled. "Forgive me! I am not usually given to personal remarks."
"How could I possibly take offense?" Zarabeth said.
Spock scarcely heard her. "The cold must have affected me more than I realized. Please—pay no attention. I am not myself."
And that, he thought, was an understatement. He was behaving disgracefully. He had eaten animal flesh—and had enjoyed it! What was wrong with him? He put his hands to his temples.
"I say you are beautiful," he said, feeling a dawning wonder. "But you are beautiful. Is it so wrong to tell you so?"
Zarabeth came to him. "I have longed to hear you say it," she said softly.
Then she was in his arms. When the kiss ended, he felt as though a man who had always been locked up inside him had been set free.
"You are beautiful," he said, "beautiful beyond any dream of beauty I have ever had. I shall never stop telling you of it."
"Stay," she whispered. "I shall make you happy."
"My life is here."
"You lie," said a voice from the doorway. Spock spun, furious with McCoy and enjoying it.
"I speak the present truth," he said. "We are here, for good. I have given you the facts."
"The facts as you know them. But you are also being dishonest with yourself, and that's also something new for you. You accepted Zarabeth's word because it was what you wanted to believe. But Zarabeth is a woman condemned to
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