Chapter 14- The Gift of Madness

I made a mental note in the lift to show my appreciation to the Vulcan for being oddly more sensitive to the suffering of another than his human counterpart. My eyes lit up when I thought of just the thing. It had long been the source of frustration and near insanity for humans, but he might find it amusing. Now how to wish it into existence….

I returned to my quarters and hoped my plan would work. If they didn't have connectivity of devices in this age, I would be up the creek. I asked the computer to show me a Rubik's Cube and crossed my fingers when I asked if the object could be recreated via the replicator. I almost shouted for joy when I saw the small particles congeal into the familiar multicolored cube in the slot.

The joy was short lived, however, as I was still on edge from seeing the tattooed man. Try as I might to push him out of my mind, the memory was strong and it permanently stained my consciousness. I paced the floor, mindlessly twisting the cube into a jumbled mess debating what I should do. I knew that avoidance was not helpful or healthy. In order to reclaim who I was, I had to exorcise the ghosts which lie within, but the fear was intense and I wanted nothing more than to disavow all knowledge of anything related to him. Spock's astute observation and quick thinking bought me some time, but when it all came down to it, I felt as though I were just being selfish.

Capitan Kirk and his crew rescued you twice at risk of danger to themselves. It is the least you can do for him, you owe him that much.

It was true. I sat at the desk by the door and held my head in my hands. I knew I would have to pony up and dive into the dark residue that clogged my mind, but it was like putting your hand in a box not knowing if it contained hot coals, a poisonous snake, or broken glass. I wasn't sure what kind of pain to expect, but I knew it would be unpleasant to say the least.

The door beeped and I felt a wave of relief. It afforded me a viable excuse to avoid the task at hand. It wasn't my fault I had a visitor! After all, doors have to be answered don't they? I went to the door and it slid open to reveal Spock holding a white box.

"For me?" I asked surprised.

"It contains your personal effects." He replied extending it to me.

I took the box in one arm, careful to keep the toy hidden and dropped it on the desk.

"Spock!" I called as he had already turned back to the turbolifts, "Come back, I have something for you." When he was sufficiently close, I grabbed his wrist and turned his hand upwards to place the cube in his palm. "This is for you, a little thank you gift."

He looked down at the jumbled colored squares, his face completely immobile before finally asking, "A gift?" He seemed somewhat confused.

"The computer didn't mention gift giving as a part of your culture, but it didn't explicitly prohibit it either." I explained. "Sometimes humans give each other things they think the other will enjoy."

"I am aware of the custom, Doctor, but it is hardly required." He replied finally looking at me. I could just see it in his eyes, he was hoping to Surak I wouldn't mention the day's events. I resolved to oblige him because I really didn't want to relive it either.

"Don't ruin the moment, Spock. Just gracefully accept it as a gesture of friendship." I instructed kindly.

He looked back at the cube still in his hand and said, "Very well, then. I accept your gift. But may I inquire as to the nature of the object is so I may better appreciate it?"

"It is a puzzle," I answered picking it up and turning it a few times to demonstrate, "the object is to have one color on each side."

I handed it back to him and he studied it carefully before twisting it quickly in various directions until he had four red squares together. His eyes absolutely exploded with joy, although his mouth twitched only slightly. "A logic puzzle." He concluded amused. "I was not aware humans enjoyed such activities."

"I wouldn't say enjoy," I clarified, "that puzzle has angered many over the years. But a small percentage of elite individuals have been rumored to have solved it. Good luck, and no taking it apart or peeling off the stickers." I warned.

He quietly nodded and returned to rotating the cube while he walked back to the lift. While I hoped it would provide him with at least a minimal amount of frustration, I knew that the reality was he would have it solved in 10 minutes and sitting neatly on his console on the bridge.

I opened the box Spock had brought and looked through my items. Pants, socks, a shirt, bra and panties, my lab coat, an assortment of pens, shoes; all things that I should have felt a connection with, but found myself strangely uninterested by. At the bottom of the box lay my watch and Blackberry. I was glad to see my watch, now I would know what time it was without constantly having to ask. I picked up my smart phone and sat on the bed.

I turned it over in my hands, knowing that much of my life was contained in the microchips inside. Out of habit, I touched the back arrow as I always did when I wanted it to wake up and to my shock, the screen lit up and greeted me with the familiar picture of a beach that I took while on vacation in Hawaii. I sat on the bed, scrolling through the options just as I had when I first got it, exploring each menu and searching for gold nuggets from my former life.

I missed 7 appointments. I had 6 emails and 4 voice mails, none of which could be retrieved now. Although I had a signal, it was probably just picking up on the ship's communication system. The missed calls were from the hospital and my husband. I didn't so much care about what crisis may have been going on at work, but I wanted nothing more than to hear my husband's voice again. I wondered why he had called. Did he want me to pick up milk from the store? Was he worried when I just didn't come home?

I found a picture of us together at an outdoor hockey game. We were both bundled up like Eskimos, I wearing the home team's jersey and he the opposing; I remembered it being so cold. But we both wore huge smiles, and I was sad because in the picture he wore sunglasses. I knew in a vague way who he was, but I needed to see the green eyes to be sure.

I tossed the phone aside on the bed and sighed. It all amounted to inconsequential trivia that no longer mattered. It was all so much debris floating on the surface of my shipwrecked former life. I knew that in order to properly adjust to my new reality, I had to let go of the past. But the impulse to reach back through time in an effort to grasp anything I could hold on to was strong.

You hold the answer deep within your own mind, consciously you've forgotten it. That's the way the human mind works, whenever something is too unpleasant or too shameful for us to entertain we reject it, we erase it from our memory. But the imprint is always there, nothing is ever really forgotten.

Reluctantly, I realized that the answers I needed were in my own head. If I were to ever make sense of what happened, I had to summon up the courage to open my eyes and look. I took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself before gently exploring the edges of the mental scab that had formed over the wound. It wasn't long before the hemorrhaging began and I found myself racing the halls in search of Dr. McCoy in a full blown panic attack.