Chapter 2- The Descent of Man

I fought the swell of panic rising in my chest by taking a deep breath and reminding myself that it was all just a dream. No matter what they say, it isn't real. I was never skilled at lucid dreaming, but I found comfort in the fact that at least I was aware that I was in an altered state of reality where nothing makes sense. It was the nature of the brain to hobble the pieces together into some coherent story because there was nothing the brain hated more than nonsense.

What you are experiencing is the random firing of neurons. That is all it is.

Commander Spock took a few slow and purposeful steps toward me and asked in a thoughtful voice, "What is the last thing you remember?"

I looked at the floor while I thought about it. It was hazy and uncertain, but I answered, "Being at work. I was doing paperwork at my desk."

"And what was your work?" he continued.

"I am a psychologist." I replied simply.

He stood quietly and seemed to think deeply about that before turning to the Captain who appeared lost. "A person who had obtained a higher level of education to analyze and address disturbances in mood or thought. What we now call a counselor." Commander Spock informed.

"Thank you, Mr. Britannica." I muttered.

He turned back to me and observed, "A series of volumes containing short articles on various topics meant to be informative. I accept your compliment." His voice was as flat as if he were discussing the weather. I entertained the fact that it may have actually been sarcasm on his part, but he was seriously creeping me out. "That would explain your manner of dress when you were found. I believe you were wearing the uniform of physicians from your period- what you may have called a lab coat."

I looked down at myself and for the first time became aware that I was not wearing my own clothing. I had on a very plain, white two piece outfit consisting of fabric that was stretchy, but not too tight and exceedingly comfortable.

"My period? Why do you keep speaking in past tense?" I questioned.

For a split second he looked uncertain and almost human. There was something that flickered in his dark eyes that may have been mistaken for emotion of some sort, but I didn't have time to study it; he quickly turned to the Captain in search of direction.

Captain Kirk sighed and bit his lower lip. When he spoke, his voice was soft and tentative. I just knew I wasn't going to like what I was about to hear. "You may find this incredibly hard to understand," he began, "but a lot of time has passed since your last memory. From all of the tests Dr. McCoy ran, we think that you are from sometime early in the 21rst century. A lot has changed since then. We have made great advances in space exploration and made contact with many…what you would have called aliens." He paused to let it all sink in before again gesturing to the Commander. "Spock is just one of many, he is a Vulcan."

I looked him over once more before clarifying, "He…is an alien race."

Captain Kirk again bit his lip and looked back at him. "Well, yes…and…no."

Commander Spock did nothing more than look sideways at his superior before explaining. "More immediately, my father was a Vulcan and my mother was a human." There was no sense of nostalgia in his voice the way in which others spoke of loved ones. "But when one looks over the longer timespan of evolution, we believe that humans, Romulans, and Vulcans all shared a common ancestor."

I shifted uneasily. "Yeah, higher order apes. Darwin figured that out 150 years ago."

"Darwin was a great scientist, but ultimately incorrect." He deadpanned. "It is to be expected that the earliest efforts to explain the great unknown be myopic, especially given the fact that in your time humans do not yet know of the existence of life outside of your planet. The process had only just begun in finding other planets around other stars outside of your own solar system. What Darwin could not possibly have known was that even in his day, the Romulans and my own people were watching your development. Your people have a shared history with mine, but they had long since forgotten it."

I shook my head trying to keep up. "So you are telling me that humans are space monkeys who left your planet and colonized Earth long ago, but then somehow conveniently forgot all of the history and technology needed for space travel and regressed to wearing animal skins and living in caves? The fossil record does not show humanoids with pointed ears who were buried with ray guns."

He ignored my joke, which irritated me, and said, "The split took place a long time ago and the colonization appears accidental. Conditions on your planet were harsh compared to Vulcan and the ancestors did what they could to survive. And I probably need not remind you that even in your time, scientists suspect that your people's account of historical events based on preserved bodily remains is less than complete. The conditions required to form a fossil only capture a small percentage of the available biodiversity of your planet. Our inner bone structure is identical. Perfectly preserved soft tissues are exceedingly rare, so it would be illogical to expect to find pointed ears on an otherwise nondescript skeleton."

"Do you ever shut up?" Dr. McCoy inquired with a harsh look at the Commander as he stalked his way across the room. "I have never seen a man like the sound of his own voice as much as you. Give the poor woman a rest for Christ sake."

Commander Spock only minimally acknowledged the tirade as if it was to be expected. Captain Kirk laughed lightly. "We get it, Bones. We overstayed our welcome." He touched the Commander's arm and added, "Let's go, Spock. We will come back when the Doc clears her."

The Commander looked to me and gave an ever so slight nod and then and expressionless glare to the doctor before turning on his heel and following the Captain out the door.

The doctor approached me and without a word, thrust his hand to my face and roughly pulled up each eyelid while shining a light in my eye. I tried not to recoil at the sudden aggression, but I would have thought he would say something first.

Flesh mechanic!

"Don't pay him any mind," he grumbled while he pushed on my shoulders to make me lay down, "he is probably the smartest bastard you will meet this side of the universe, but he ain't got a lick of common courtesy. That's the damn Vulcan in him."

I secretly wondered if the doctor was part Vulcan too.

"Are you in any pain?" He asked gruffly.

I wasn't sure he would care if I said yes, but you were supposed to be honest with your physician at all times, so I told him about my headache. He dug through a nearby crash cart and pulled out another hand held device that emitted a red laser. He scanned my head and looked at a screen thoughtfully while I was left wondering exactly what that was supposed to accomplish.

"Not surprising," he commented, "you still have some neurons that are trying to reconnect from the thaw. The Romulans' technology isn't as advanced as ours and you are damn lucky they didn't screw it up any more than they did. I was able to fix the worst of it, but the rest you will have to do on your own."

He seemed calmer now that he was in medical mode. He ransacked the drawer again and came out with a silver instrument that looked like a gun. He walked over to a shelving unit that held perhaps hundreds of vials full of colored liquids. He looked over the racks and chose a few before returning. He loaded a vial in the chamber just as one would load a bullet, held the instrument to my arm, and pulled the trigger. The gun made a hissing sound and I watched as the blue liquid drained from the vial. It hurt worse than I had anticipated and flinched when he gave me the second shot.

He casually tossed the gun back into the drawer and said, "That should take care of the pain in your head for awhile and the other will…"

Everything went black before I could find out what the last shot did.