Chapter 21
Rishon sat with his back against the rock, trying to be reconciled to the probability that he would be buried in this crack for hours, if not days. Why had he helped Gimor get out, knowing they would abandon him and be glad to be rid of him? Because it's what Kirk would have done. The realization came as a shock. Why would he want to copy Kirk?! Was it because this was Kirk's game and the only way to win was to play it his way? But being buried alive in this rock tomb was hardly his picture of winning.
And how did he know what Kirk would do? He thought back on everything he had seen of Kirk since he showed up at this conference. His initial shock at the level of pain for which there was no outward reaction. And that second encounter, Kirk had been absolutely certain of his defenses. And he'd been right, though how he could be in such unity with Spock was beyond his comprehension. No human should be able to tolerate such. He not only tolerated it, he understood the fight for what it was, and freely let Spock play with his life in order to win.
But there were other things about Kirk's character equally surprising. In the middle of all that agony, he had taken the opportunity presented to warn them of the Klingons' treachery. He still wasn't sure what Kirk had done to him later, but he couldn't deny the fact that his pain had suddenly disappeared. And then he'd encountered Kirk wearing the SDU. He'd immediately and freely shared what he knew, volunteering to help the opposing team. That was not the way to win.
Kirk was an enigma. So why was he drawn to him? Why did he want to emulate him? He was crazy, yet compelling. Rishon wanted to explore Kirk's mind, and it wasn't just the Federation secrets. And he had the perverse notion that were it not for the need to protect those secrets, Kirk would have freely welcomed his intrusion. In the middle of his pondering, Rishon suddenly heard Gimor call him.
"Rishon, are you there?"
He stood up and replied calmly, "Of course; how could I be elsewhere?"
They had collected everyone's belt and made a rope. Within minutes, Rishon joined them in the circular room.
"Thank you for the rescue. To what do I owe your generosity?"
Rishon was not being deliberately condescending, but it came out that way anyway. Gimor scowled; the others just looked away in disgust.
"There's a message in the floor there. We can't read it. Can you?"
Rishon could. It was in Standard, much the same as Anastia had read to Kirk, except the last line inserted Rishon's name, so there would be no mistake. The doorways were identified by name and number, both of which could be read on the insignia of each one's uniform.
Rishon debated with himself long and hard before divulging what the message said, and his interpretation of what it meant. Their response was predictable: disbelieving and uncooperative. He sat on the floor in contempt.
"I told you what it says. What you do about it is up to you. I don't care." And he lapsed into silence.
They argued, they paced, they argued some more. There were two opposing opinions. One was that Rishon was making the whole thing up. But they couldn't deny that their names were etched in stone over the doorways. The other opinion was that if they refused to do this, they would certainly lose the contest. Several minutes were spent discussing the likelihood that Kirk's team had acquiesced to this.
Rishon listened to all this argument and wondered what Kirk would do. How would he respond to distrust and ridicule? He, Rishon, had mocked Kirk. How had he responded? He had ignored it, and reached out in friendship disregarding the probable response. Could he do that here? Did he want to?
Suddenly Gimor sat down in front of Rishon, looked him in the eye, and spoke earnestly. "Tell me the truth, Rishon. Is that really what it says?"
Rishon tried to keep all emotion out of his response. "Yes, Gimor, it is."
Gimor searched Rishon's face for deceit.
"Gimor, do you want to win this contest?"
"What kind of a question is that?" Gimor was confused, as much as insulted.
"This is Kirk's game. If you want to win, do what Kirk would do."
"And what would Kirk do?"
"Would you believe me if I told you?"
"Try me."
Rishon hadn't really intended to get into this, but Gimor had drawn it out of him. How much should he say? What would Gimor believe? Did it matter whether Gimor accepted him?
"I watched Kirk for hours in that conference room. I've twice been inside his mind. There is much about Kirk that I do not understand. But two things I do know. He thrives on being dared to do the impossible. Given his reputation, that's not surprising. But the second thing I found quite a surprise. He values relationship more than doing the impossible.
"If he were here in this room, I think he would be far more concerned about the lack of unity among us, than about what's on the other side of those doorways. Which is not to say he wouldn't tackle the doorways. I think he would. But he would battle the distrust among us with any means available."
"How?"
Rishon was surprised that Gimor appeared to be genuinely interested in what he had to say. Maybe Kirk's ideas weren't as crazy as he thought.
"Kirk would ignore our mockery, contempt, and ridicule of him. He would treat us as friends and act as if we were completely trustworthy. And he would continue to model that behavior until we changed our treatment of him and of each other."
"You want me to trust you."
"That is what Kirk would do. How badly do you want to win?"
Rishon could not keep the challenge out of his voice. Gimor stared in silence for a long moment.
"All right, Rishon, we will do this. But if anyone dies because of your treachery, I will kill you; I promise it!"
Rishon nodded curtly in acknowledgment of the threat.
xxxx
J'ret returned, staggering and gasping for breath, his eyes wide with fright. He stared at them, then looked down at himself, as if unsure he was really there, his body uninjured.
"J'ret, are you all right?" Konti asked.
"Fire! Walk... through fire. Yet not... consumed." He took a deep breath. "How can this be?!"
"Spock probably has a technical explanation, but what matters is you survived it. Do you have a cube for Anastia?"
"Yes, but- Konti, it's bad. I thought I knew how to face fear, but not this kind. I'm still shaking."
"If I'm next, talk to Kirk while I'm gone."
"How?"
"Anastia can spell for you. It's just slower."
"Konti, believe me, you don't want to do this."
"J'ret, I'll be okay, and so will you. Now give Anastia your cube so we can find out who's next."
It was Konti's doorway that lit up, so he quickly spelled to Kirk that J'ret was in need of damage control. Then he was gone.
Kirk began. "So J'ret, can you talk to me? Anastia, can you spell what he says?"
Knowing that Anastia could not leave her post, Kirk felt his way to her by touch.
"I was facing a wall of fire. I heard no voices, like Spock did, but I knew I had to walk through the fire. And when I did, it would consume me. Have you ever been certain you were about to die in horrible agony, and yet you had a choice? I could have refused, could have walked away from it."
J'ret paused to let Anastia catch up.
"But you didn't," Kirk guessed.
"No. I've never been this afraid of anything in my life. I was absolutely terrified. I did not know that I could move. My mind was numb, hardly aware that I had made a decision. The next thing I remember clearly is that I was on the other side of the fire wall. I could feel the heat of it on my back.
"The cube was before me on a small table. I picked it up, half expecting everything to change, like it did for Spock. But the fire remained. I turned and looked at my only way back here. Again, I could have refused. My body wanted to. It remembered the awful pain. My mind was still numb with shock. To face it a second time was beyond me. I cried out to Jesus and-"
"You what?!" Anastia interrupted. She stopped spelling and just stared at J'ret.
"I asked Jesus to help me, and He did. The next thing I knew, I was back here."
"Jesus! Isn't that Kirk's God? What do you know about a human God?"
"Jesus is God, yes. The one and only real God. And He's not just for humans; he's for everybody. He created the whole thing, and He wants to know each of us personally."
"Wait a minute! You're telling me you believe in the same God Kirk does?"
"Yes."
"Anastia," Kirk interrupted, "You're upset about something. What's wrong?"
She stared at Kirk long and hard, unable to formulate a reply.
xxxx
Chuck wondered if Kirk regretted the restrictions of the SDU. Meaningful conversation was pretty difficult. He glanced over at Koh, who paced in frustration, and at Torbet, who waited in grim, tense silence. Rishon's team was getting through it, but without any grace. Chuck wished he could see what actually occurred beyond those doorways, but they were given no pictures of anything but the circular rooms. It was almost as if the things being reported didn't really exist. And maybe it was true, that they were real only in the mind of the one who saw them.
xxxx
Konti stepped through his doorway, and Anastia looked up at him. The eyes looked haunted, as if he had seen things he'd rather not remember, but otherwise, he looked normal enough. Anastia spelled to Kirk that Konti was back.
"My turn, then. Konti, show me where the door is. This shouldn't take very long."
Kirk took one step through the doorway and stopped. He saw nothing; he heard nothing.
"I fear nothing."
Those within the room heard his words.
Suddenly the nothingness overwhelmed him, and he laughed at the literalness of this program.
"I do not fear."
Those within heard both the laugh and the words. A few moments later, Kirk was back, with cube in hand. Anastia made quick work of placing all the cubes in order where they belonged. The black box appeared in their midst, which surprised no one. Once in it, Kirk again took charge of the discussion.
"Good work, everybody. Is there anything about that we need to debrief? J'ret, are you okay?"
"Yes, I think so. What were you laughing at?"
Kirk told them. Predictably, they thought he was nuts. He didn't try to explain how he could laugh in the face of overwhelming nothingness. Instead, he asked Konti to share.
"I was walking down an endless corridor. The farther I walked, the more dread I felt. At first, the evil was beyond me, later it was all around me. I saw nothing except faces of demons, laughing at me, mocking me. And it was worse on the way back. The sense of evil was like a physical force, laughing and screaming at me, demanding I obey it. As I walked through one hideous face, it dissolved, only to be replaced by another, more horrible than the last. I don't think I've ever had a worse nightmare."
"Anastia," Kirk asked, "How are you doing? Your job was the hardest. Want to talk about it?"
"Why do you say mine was hard? I didn't have to face any fears."
"Oh, but you did. You feared our response to that message. You did not want us to hate you. You tell yourself that it doesn't matter, because you want to protect yourself from being hurt. But you are glad that we don't hate you, even if you don't understand why we don't."
Anastia did not reply.
xxxx
Chuck watched Rishon's team finally complete the task and clamber into the black box. No one talked about what they'd seen and felt. In fact, the silence in their box was extended. Disturbed by their experiences, they didn't even argue amongst themselves.
Suddenly Koh exclaimed that he had control of the holodeck restored.
"Are you sure?" Torbet challenged.
"Yes, I'm sure. How much time do we have left? And what do you want to do with it? It seems to me Kirk's team is winning, hands down."
"What about the interference? Aren't you worried about that?" Torbet wasn't exactly frantic, but nowhere near the calm he would have preferred to exhibit.
"If you want to concede the contest right now, I'll shut the thing down. If we get them off the holodeck before any interference can take over, then we're set. But what are you going to tell Kirk? After all, no one died. He and Spock are the only ones that are injured, and they don't seem to care. Do you want Kirk to laugh at you?"
Torbet did not reply. Koh turned to Chuck.
"Any objections to leaving them in it?"
"None whatever. Spock knows about the interference. That means Kirk does too. If he objected, he'd be telling you about it."
"By my calculations, we've some thirty hours left. What shall we do with it?" Koh asked.
xxxx
Kirk's team found themselves in a room with several doors, all closed. In the center of the room was a table. Inlaid in the table was a detailed map of an extensive complex, with corridors, bridges, tunnels, and stairs all clearly marked. There were six blinking red lights pinpointing specific locations. Konti spelled the situation for Kirk.
"No instructions? Just the blinking lights. Seems logical that we have to go to those locations. But if there's six of them, maybe we each get one. Any opinions?"
"It'd be pretty difficult to explain this map in words spelled on the chest," Anastia mused.
"I'm not entirely sure I can remember how to get to even one of these places," J'ret admitted. "This is one complex map."
Konti spelled the problems to Kirk.
"If one of you would be eyes for Spock by letting him into your mind, then I could get the visual picture from him."
Konti volunteered. Spock linked to both Konti and Young, so that they all had the visual image. And they discussed a strategy for tackling the six locations. Kirk was able to see the map so well that he could actually place his finger on the blinking lights. He had to adjust his perspective and remind himself that he was seeing what Konti saw, but he managed well enough to assign a light to each of them.
Three hours went by before they were all back from the six locations. They had encountered no obstacles other than the complexity of the map. At each location, they found seemingly random objects which they brought back with them. Young was the one who deciphered the purpose of the various metal bars, poles, and strips of cloth. He declared they could be used to resplint Spock's leg, and make a better set of crutches than the one he'd lost.
Back in the black box, Kirk was significantly more comfortable with Spock's leg splinted.
"Thank you all, especially Young. Spock's leg feels much better. Special thank you to the judges for such consideration. Anybody have questions?" Kirk asked.
Anastia did. "I don't understand that mind-link business you did at the map. Especially, Konti, why did you volunteer for that? We could've figured out a way without it, and letting them into your mind is risky business, physically and emotionally, not to mention politically."
Konti spelled the question, and then tried to answer it.
"Yes, we probably could have managed, but this was much faster. Effective teamwork sometimes requires risk."
"And did you lose?" Anastia wanted to know. "Did they take your secrets? You don't seem damaged. I've seen some of the results of Rishon's work. It's not pretty."
"They took no secrets," Konti assured her. "I am not damaged. Did you hear of the fight between Spock and Rishon? Ask Spock what he thinks of Rishon's mental skills."
Konti spelled the question.
"Rishon has neither the skill nor the moral code of a trained Vulcan. Not surprising to find damage in those he has encountered," Spock replied.
"He doesn't appear to have damaged Kirk."
"No, he did not."
Anastia's curiosity was not satisfied.
"So, Konti, what was it like? If you don't mind telling?"
"I wasn't really focused on that, but on the map and the problem in front of us. But as I recall, it seemed perfectly natural. I expected it to feel odd, but it didn't. Think of it as a conversation in your head. That's the best description I can manage."
The box disappeared, and they were in a similar room as the last. This time the map was on the wall, different but equally complex. This time there were only three blinking lights. After having the situation spelled to him, Kirk gave orders quickly.
"We'll take this in pairs: one sighted with each non-sighted. Pick your targets and your partners. Anastia, you're first."
She picked Young; J'ret picked Kirk, leaving Konti with Spock. Kirk held out his hand for J'ret to lead him. The other two teams could communicate by spelling words if necessary. J'ret could not. As soon as the door closed behind them, Kirk began talking.
"J'ret, I want you to know- no, don't stop walking. I'm just going to talk as we go. If you need me to shut up, squeeze my hand three times. Remember once means yes, twice means no. Okay?" Yes.
Kirk kept up a running conversation as they negotiated corridors, stairs, ladders, and tunnels. He suspected J'ret was feeling rather isolated and insecure. He praised him, expressing approval of his actions, as well as his patience and long-suffering. He asked numerous yes/no questions, drawing out of J'ret his attitudes and feelings. He shared tidbits of wisdom and anecdotes from his own life. He knew it didn't matter so much what he talked about, so long as he talked. By the time they returned, J'ret was encouraged, confident, and peaceful.
Each team brought back a small cube that was placed under each light. When all cubes were placed, the black box appeared. Debriefing was short. Nobody had problems to report. Konti wondered how long these easy episodes would continue. Anastia cautioned him not to ask for trouble. Kirk wondered the same thing, but didn't voice it. He also wondered how Rishon's team was doing.
xxxx
Chuck's impression was that the Romulan team was finally getting their act together. The one called Gimor was taking a strong leadership role. Rishon was deferring to him. The whole team seemed more able to handle this kind of task than many of the rest. They even finished that last one ahead of Kirk's team. Torbet was preening. Koh couldn't resist needling.
"Finally giving Kirk some competition, I see. Shall we run the same one again? See if they pick up speed?"
"Shall we tell them to go faster?" Torbet asked.
"Be more interesting to see if they guess," Chuck volunteered.