JUST A DREAM
"Are we dead?"
"Maybe. I think we might be. I felt like I couldn't breathe."
"It's beautiful being dead, isn't it?"
"Yes."
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"They've got to be in here," said Rostov. He stopped and took a long swig of water, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "The footprints don't go any farther."
The captain gazed up above him at the odd rock formation. It looked like it was about to fall, but he could see from the weathering that the jutting pillar had been there for centuries. Desert plants rustled in the light, hot wind, not bothered at all by the grit in the air.
"We've got flashlights and markers to leave a path with," said Harris, digging through his pack. "And it probably won't be so damned hot in there."
Archer grinned in spite of the gravity of the situation. "It's a good thing Trip didn't come down with us, eh? He hates deserts."
"I know, sir," replied Harris as he clambered up the slope to the cave entrance. "He complained about getting heatsick for three weeks!"
The darkness inside provided a welcome respite from the glaring sun. "There's only one passage," said Rostov, swinging the flashlight around.
"Then let's go," Harris said, striding ahead.
"Angie!" called Archer over his shoulder. "Stay out here and keep an open channel with us so we can contact you if we get into trouble." Ensign Sender nodded and sat down on top of a boulder right outside the entrance.
"Don't get lost down there, sir," she said, and Archer nodded back to her before following the two crewmen into the passage.
"This isn't right, sir," said Harris after they had walked for about five minutes. "There should be side passages and variation in the width and height of the tunnel. This looks manmade...um, well, made, anyway."
"There's a bigger cavern up ahead," said Rostov from ahead of them, shining the flashlight deep into the tunnel. "See the opening?" All of a sudden he let out a cry and dashed forward.
"What is it?" shouted Archer, running after him.
"Captain! I found them!" Rostov's light swung wildly around the cavern, giving Harris and Archer glimpses of stalactites glittering high above them. "Captain! They're not breathing!"
"What?" Archer skidded to a stop over the prone figures of Hoshi and Malcolm. They lay shoulder to shoulder, eyes open and glassy. The knee of Reed's jumpsuit was ripped open, and the skin underneath scraped badly. Archer reached out and felt for a pulse on the side of Hoshi's neck, letting out a heavy sigh of relief when he found one.
"It's very faint," he told the two crewmen. "We've got to get them out of here and back to Phlox as fast as possible." Rostov started to do artificial respiration on Lieutenant Reed, but nothing happened at all. He stopped, panting, and swung Malcolm over his shoulder, easily lifting the shorter man.
"Come on," said Archer, picking up Hoshi, and they headed back towards the cave entrance as quickly as they could.
**************
"Malcolm?"
"Hoshi?"
"Where are we?"
She looked around and saw only darkness. Curiously enough Malcolm, standing beside her, looked as if he were in bright sunlight. Instead of his Starfleet uniform he had on a blank white shirt and pants, rather like pajamas. Hoshi looked down at herself and found the same.
She reached out and touched his shoulder and was curiously relieved to find it solid beneath her fingers.
"Are we standing on anything?" Malcolm asked, gazing around. Hoshi followed his glance but found it quite unhelpful: the same blank emptiness surrounded them in every single direction. He stamped his foot down and tried to jump but didn't move at all.
"What's the last thing you remember?" he said. Hoshi could see his fists clenching. She knew that Malcolm Reed was not a man who liked to be faced with a situation that he could not comprehend. Come to think of it, she didn't really enjoy that kind of problem, either.
"Colors," she said. "Like we were flying through a painting. And the cave. Do you remember going into the cave like the one I drew?"
"Just little snippets here and there," he said. "I remember the cave and the colors, but I remember it like you remember a dream that you don't really know what was happening after you wake up." He tried to sit down and shuddered. "There's nothing underneath. I can't feel a thing."
Gingerly, Hoshi crossed her legs in the air and found that he was right. It was an eerie feeling, much worse than the lack of gravity in the sweet spot because at least there she could see the walls. Her brain couldn't seem to get a handle on the nothingness around them. "I want to get out," she said plaintively. "But we could walk and walk and never move from this spot and we wouldn't know it."
Malcolm shuddered again. "We'll starve to death," he said. "At least it's not drowning."
"Death," whispered a voice, and it echoed round the void until Hoshi could not bear it any long and screamed. The voice ceased immediately. Malcolm reached out and grabbed her shoulders.
"Hoshi," he said firmly, though she could hear the hint of panic in his voice, "Hoshi, we must keep our heads. We must keep calm."
"What is going on?" she cried, unwilling to calm down. She could feel his hands shaking on her shoulders, and that frightened her more than the ethereal voices: the unshakable Malcolm Reed was scared, too. "Where are we? Someone answer me, damn it! We heard you before! Say something useful!"
"Very well," said the voice, but it was not a whispering echo this time. It came from a featureless humanoid figure, eyes and mouth merely gaping holes in the smooth white face. Hoshi choked back a little scream and felt Malcolm's hands tighten on her shoulders, not reassuring her in the least because they were trembling even harder.
"We did not think it would be this difficult for you to adjust," said the figure. "We have never met Humans before." It held out a hand. "Come. I will lead you in."
Malcolm glanced at Hoshi for a moment before taking his hands away. "Are you all right?" he said.
"No," she whispered, and felt herself begin to tremble too, like a withered leaf clinging to the tree. "But I'm getting there."
"Come," it said again. "Take my hands."
"Are we dead?" Malcolm asked suddenly.
If the figure had had eyebrows, Hoshi was sure that it would have cocked one at them in classic T'Pol style. "What is death? It is only an end. You are more alive now than you have ever been before."
"You killed us," said Malcolm. "You killed us in our dreams."
"We showed you the end. Now it is time for the beginning. Come with me." It beckoned slowly and began to walk away from them.
"Why should we trust you?" asked Reed, eyes blazing.
"Why shouldn't you?" it replied, not breaking stride. "Be cautious, and then you truly will die."
Hoshi met Malcolm's worried eyes and nodded slowly. "Come on, Malcolm," she said, suddenly feeling braver. He looked around at the empty void and clenched his fists. "It's got to be better than being in here," she added, and took his hand. She pulled him after the figure, who stopped and waited until she had caught up. It took her hand, gazing into her eyes with pools of black darkness.
"Do not let go," it said. The void around them began to sparkle and shiver, and then it cracked into a thousand pieces and fell like glass around them. Hoshi heard Malcolm gasp and gripped his hand even more tightly. For a moment she could feel her lungs aching and her blood pounding just like in the nightmares and then all at once the pain was gone.
She sighed, amazed, as they were surrounded by light, living, pulsing light that filled her entire body. "It's beautiful," she breathed, forgetting entirely her fear. "We saw this before but not like this."
"You did," it said, and now its voice had changed. "You did but we did not think to hold you and you nearly fell away from us. This time we will teach you. There are some of us here that did not know instinctively."
Hoshi looked over at it, her ears singing with the mellifluous rise and fall of their guide's altered voice, and her eyes widened. The black eyeholes had disappeared, and she gazed into pools of wind and flame. The white of its face had been replaced by shimmering red and orange, and flowing golden hair curled softly about its--or rather, his, since it now had more masculine characteristics--face. "You are beautiful, too," she said.
"You may call me Pyrrih," he said, smiling in response. "That was my name before I came here. You cannot say the real one yet." Hoshi felt, in her mind, a brief surge of pure emotion and knew that it was the essence of Pyrrih, his true name. She wished she could see it in its entirety. He squeezed her hand and let go.
"What is this place?" said Malcolm. His voice sounded curiously high-pitched, and when Hoshi turned to look at him she saw a flickering ghost of an outline, like a wisp of smoke against the golden glow. His eyes blinked furiously, trying to make sense out of the indescrible surroundings.
"It is my domain," said Pyrrih. "Come, Malcolm Reed. It will hurt but the pain is quick." He reached out a hand to Malcolm and the smoky image coalesced and then expanded outward in a great puff of color.
"Malcolm!" cried Hoshi in amazement, for when he came through he was not the hawkish blue-eyed lieutenant anymore but a young child with silvery blue skin. Pale blue and green tints shone beneath the surface, swirling and moving like the sea, and his brown hair was now pure silver. It stuck up in tidy spikes just as before, though.
"You look different," he said, and Hoshi could not help laughing.
"You're one to talk." She looked down at herself; she was only the size of a child, too, and rose pink, lavender, and gold colored her skin. "I do look different."
"I have helped you see each other as we will see you," said Pyrrih. "You have much to learn and much to accustom to. We are all as children when we arrive here."
"What is this place?" asked Malcolm again.
"It is Between," said Pyrrih. "Where have you always wanted to go, Malcolm Reed?"
"Er...Vulcan, maybe," he replied.
"Imagine Vulcan," said Pyrrih, smiling, and the golden light dissolved around them. When their eyes cleared they were standing on a reddish sandstone cliff, gazing out over the desert. A moon hung low in the dusky sky, and below them Hoshi saw a neat, symmetrical house and gardens. Two figures walked about, and she could see their pointed ears.
"Is this really Vulcan?" she asked. Snatches of the Vulcan language carried through the air, and she heard "school" and "Tavel's teachers" quite distinctly.
"Yes," said Pyrrih.
"Would they be able to see us?" asked Malcolm, his eyes glittering like water under sunlight.
"Not unless we wanted them to," said another voice. "And even then they would only see a Vulcan like themselves."
"Ah! Thetik, welcome!" cried Pyrrih. "I have only just managed to get them Between."
Thetik, tall as Pyrrih, did not shimmer; looking at him was like looking into a painting. Hoshi could see him stepping out of Van Gogh's Starry Night, the swirls were so similar. "Welcome, Hoshi Sato," he said kindly. "Are you finding it difficult to adjust?"
"No, I don't think so," she replied. "I don't think I quite understand yet."
"She is not having as much trouble as the male," said Pyrrih quietly. Malcolm had wandered to the edge of the cliff and stood gazing down at the Vulcan manor below.
"I will help him," said Thetik. "I had just as much trouble adjusting when I first came here." He nodded to Hoshi and walked over to Malcolm, saying something that made Reed look up and shake his head.
"Ah, little one," said Pyrrih, "that means that I will teach you. Shall we go? There is much to learn about Between and its people."
Hoshi took his hand again, and a shiver of excitement ran up and down her spine. This, now, this was exploring. "Let's go," she said.
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