See disclaimer in part 1.
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The entire room became intensely quiet. The space had become quite crowded now and it seemed as if some sort of telepathic tractor beam had drawn those that hadn't previously been present here. There were Polololans of every description standing in this one mud hut – men, women with tiny infants in their arms and several children, each with a pair of eyes fixed firmly on the Vulcan kneeling between his two human companions in the centre of the hut.
Spock shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny; he had never been fond of being the centre of attention.
How many times had a reference been made comparing him with the 'devil', humans' religious icon of evil? Snatches of memorised conversations filtered randomly through his mind…
…His face, his ears, his eyes! Do Yang legends describe the Evil One?
…The demon has no heart!
…Is there anyone on this ship who looks even remotely like Satan?
…You could hardly claim to be an angel with those pointed ears, Mister Spock. But, say you landed someplace with a pitchfork…
Devil. Demon. Satan. Doctor McCoy had a peculiar penchant for making the comparison. Spock, as a matter of personal interest, had read his mother's copy of the Bible at the age of four. He could recall no references to anything even vaguely Vulcan-like and often wondered why McCoy – and other humans – continued to perpetuate their claims of similarity.
He had to admit, however, that there was a distinct likeness between himself and the drawing in the Polololans' holy book. What would the villagers do now? His rational Vulcan thought processes told him he had too little data at present to formulate a valid hypothesis – let alone a solution. The science officer turned his mind to gathering the required information.
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The chief was the first to move. He stood up slowly, almost like an old man, his eyes glued to the trio before him and his face as inscrutable as any Vulcan's. He handed the large bound volume back to the tiny medicine man and indicated silently that the two of them adjourn to the room behind the wall hanging.
As the two tribesmen disappeared, the Starfleet officers each mulled over what this meant. Kirk voiced the question they had all been pondering; he kept his voice low, constantly aware that there was a crowd of Polololans congregated around them.
McCoy's reply was crusty and terse, indicating both his frustration and fear. "He's gonna get us killed!" he whispered harshly, pointing at the first officer. "They've found the devil and they'll think we're his sidekicks!" The doctor knew he was right; this was all Spock's fault.
The expected eyebrow went up. "Doctor, I will point out that, had you not fallen into that hole – thereby alerting these people to our presence, we would not now find ourselves in this posi-"
"Gentlemen! This is not the time for arguments!" Kirk was often irritated by the fact that his first officer and chief medical officer, despite the great intelligence he knew both possessed, could still manage to pick a fight in the most inopportune circumstances. "I believe our time would be better spent looking for a solution to our current problem. Any helpful suggestions?"
McCoy, unable to think of anything to say that wasn't simply an insult aimed at Spock, kept quiet.
Spock, who had been contemplating their situation with his usual Vulcan diligence, tilted his head and spoke quietly. "Captain, firstly, we must remember that the prime directive is in force here. Our actions could have untold repercussions on the lives of the inhabitants. We must be vigilant at all times. Secondly, I believe that, until the chief returns and gives some clue as to his opinion regarding us, we should take no action. It would be wise to wait until we have a more substantial grasp of the facts."
The captain nodded. He knew Spock would say something like that. As he glanced at the vacant chair, a new thought occurred to him. "Spock," he drew the name out slowly, deep in thought while he was speaking. "We're assuming this situation is something of a repeat performance of Omega Six-"
"Omega Four, sir," the Vulcan corrected automatically.
"Right, Omega Four." Damn. He'd now lost his train of thought. It took a moment or two to retrieve it. "So… What if we're wrong? I admit, that picture is remarkably like the one those Yanks-"
"Yangs, sir."
Kirk frowned. If there was one thing about Spock that really exasperated him… "Right. Yangs. It's very much like the picture the Yangs had in that book of theirs. I also admit it looks very much like you, Spock. They obviously think that picture is you. My point is this: why should we assume that they think you're the devil?"
"They did call it their 'holy book'," McCoy put in helpfully.
"Yeah, but Bones, religion isn't just made up of devils and evil creatures. Think about the Bible. I don't know about you, but I went to Sunday school and there were plenty of stories about Jesus and Moses – the good guys, even stories about everyday-normal-guys who looked after their sheep and had twenty kids."
The surgeon snorted. "Judgin' by their reaction, Jim, I don't reckon any of these folk would take Spock for an 'everyday-normal-guy' with or without a whole pile of kids. Hell, even we know he's not normal." He sneaked a surreptitious peek at the Vulcan to gauge his response. He was more than a little disappointed when Spock refused to take the bait.
"Your argument is logical, Captain. I do not believe we currently have enough valid data. However, I am positive that will change shortly."
The humans' eyes swivelled to follow the science officer's gaze.
The chief and the diminutive medicine man had returned.
The tribal leader was wearing a new expression on his craggy face. Fascination? Awe? It was hard to tell. In a fairly large portion of their journeys, the Enterprise crew had encountered races and cultures not unlike their own; many of them seemed to have emotional patterns akin to those in humans. Still, this was not always the case. They had encountered one civilisation where emotions seemed to work in reverse and Kirk had found it quite difficult not to offend the voluptuous young ladies by smiling at them.
Kirk decided it was best to take a wait-and-see approach; let the chief tell them what he was thinking.
As he walked toward them, the brightly coloured feathers of his headdress swaying gently, the chief's eyes lowered abruptly to the floor, followed just as quickly by his knees. The rest of the crowd took this as a sign and followed suit.
"It is true then," the chief stated softly. "You are he. I beg your forgiveness for not recognising you."
This is it, thought Kirk. The moment of truth. Sink or swim.
"Truly, we are honoured, my people," the leader continued, "for we have been blessed with the presence of… the Holy One, the Son of Sa-riik!"
Two humans and a Vulcan exchanged startled looks. That was unexpected.
"Behold! The Holy Son of Sa-riik and his two servants!"
McCoy almost fainted.
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