Chapter 3
Captain Kirk had just reached the door to the transporter room when he heard a young girl scream. Then he heard a loud "crash," like something heavy fell to the deck. When the door to the transporter room opened, Kirk found himself in the middle of absolute pandemonium. The first thing Kirk noticed was that a large chunk of the transporter control console was sliced off and lying on the deck.
Then, Kirk saw the source of the commotion. At the far corner of the room, a boy about twelve was standing protectively in front of a girl his age that was holding a small squirrel. The boy was keeping Dr. McCoy, Nurse Chapel and Lt. Kyle away from them at knifepoint. "What the hell just happened here, Bones?"
"We just beamed these kids aboard, Jim. As you can imagine, they were scared as all hell. For a moment, I thought Nurse Chapel had them calmed down, but then she tried to pet that squirrel and the girl went off on Christine like a Capellan Power Cat."
"What happened to the transporter console?"
"The boy cut it with his knife."
"With that knife?"
"Wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself, Jim."
"Who are they?"
"The boy said that his name is 'Mark,' and the girl is his "sister," 'Lizzie.'" Dr. McCoy lowered his voice as he showed Kirk his tricorder. "We were able to scan them, Jim. They are not brother and sister, like he said. Hell, I can't even be sure that they are the same species! The boy registers as 'Earth human' on my tricorder, but the girl's DNA shows a .04 divergence. And then, there is the little matter of her, uh . . . pet."
Kirk and McCoy looked over at the children. The girl's pet had changed its shape yet again. Now it held the form of a little mouse that the girl held close to her chest.
"What about the animal, Bones?"
Dr. McCoy shrugged. "Beats me, Jim. At first I thought that it was an allasomorph or a hologram. But it registers on my tricorder as a "sensor echo" of the girl. It may be a telepathic projection of some sort. But I can't worry about the animal or whatever it is now. That boy is bleeding to death and he won't let me treat him.
"What's stopping you, Bones?"
"That blasted knife, for one thing." Again, Dr. McCoy showed Kirk his tricorder, indicating the text message he had just put on the screen: We need to get these kids to sickbay, pronto; even if we have to stun them with a phaser to do it. They both need immediate treatment.
Kirk nodded. "Let me try talking to them, first. What are they like?"
"Well, if you have ever wondered what the Dohlman of Elas was like at age twelve; you can stop wondering. As for the boy, I think he just might be part Klingon."
"Oh, they can't be that bad, Bones." Kirk looked over at the children. The girl was now behind the boy and the 'mouse' was on her shoulder. Her right arm was around the boy's shoulder and her left hand was clamped tightly over his wounded left hand in an effort to prevent more blood loss.
"In case I'm right and they are, Jim, watch out for his knife . . . and her tears!"
Captain Kirk stepped towards the children, holding his hands up, palms forward. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the United Federation of Planets Starship, USS Enterprise. I realize that there has been a misunderstanding, but we only want to help you. Please try to believe me."
Then the girl spoke. "I en't gonna 'try' to believe you; I'm gonna know that I can believe you!" She then slowly reached for a small pouch tied to her belt.
"Right!" said the boy. "Your Alethiometer! Dunno why we didn't think of this before! Just stay back, the lot of you, until she is done!"
The girl withdrew an object from her pouch that looked like an old-fashioned gold pocket-watch. With a practiced hand, she opened the cover and adjusted the three small knobs set 120 degrees apart. Cupping the object in her hands, she looked at Kirk and the others before looking back down at the dial. When she looked up again, her eyes were closed and she appeared to be in a trance. After a few long minutes, she opened her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Gently, she put her hand on the boy's tensed shoulder.
"It's alright, Will," said the girl softly. "We can trust these people." Then to Kirk. "We en't brother and sister. His name is Will Parry. My name is Lyra Silv- Belacqua. Lyra Belacqua. My friends call me 'Lyra Silvertongue.' Oh, Will, we can trust these people! They are from your world, but from three-hundred years in the future!"
Slowly, Will lowered his knife and returned it to the sheath on his belt. "Right," said Will. "But I have to keep my knife. I am the True Bearer. I can't let it out of my sight."
"And another thing," said Lyra. "En't nobody is ever allowed to touch my daemon."
"Your 'demon?'" said Kirk. "You mean the . . . animal? Your . . . pet?"
"Pantalaimon is not my pet!" said Lyra, the edge returning to her voice. "He is my daemon! And en't nobody is allowed to touch him! For any reason! Right?!"
"Alright," said Kirk. "No one will touch your 'daemon,' and Will may keep his knife. Now, let's get you two to sickbay where Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel can fix you up."
"There," said Dr. McCoy. "That's got it." McCoy had finally managed to stop Will Parry's hand from bleeding, though it had taken a fully-charged autosuture to treat the boy's injury. For a moment, Dr. McCoy thought that he would have to get old-school and cauterize, but in the end, the autosuture worked. "Did your knife do this, Will?"
Will yawned and nodded. He was lying on a medical diagnostic bed in sickbay. Will had complained of being cold, so Nurse Chapel covered him with a blanket. Dr. McCoy handed the discharged autosuture to Nurse Chapel, who then handed him a silver wand with an ampoule of blue colored liquid at one end.
"Now, Will, I need to give you an injection," said Dr. McCoy. "I promise this will not hurt. Really, there is no needle. Hypodermic needles went out with postage stamps and television." McCoy pressed the wand to Will's neck. The wand made a non-threatening hissing sound and Will moaned softly as he drifted off to sleep.
"Go on, then," said Lyra. She was sitting on the diagnostic bed next to Will's, a blanket draped over her small shoulders. "Was that something to make Will sleep?" Pantalaimon, her 'daemon,' had changed yet again. Now it was in the form of a ferret, sitting in Lyra's lap.
"No, Lyra," said Dr. McCoy. "Will didn't need any help for that." McCoy then removed the ampoule of blue liquid and replaced it with one filled with an orange liquid. "The injection I just gave Will was a hemostimulant, to help him build up his blood count." McCoy put the wand to the boy's neck again. This time, Will made no sound as the wand hissed. "This injection is a broad-spectrum antibiotic and viral inhibitor, to help prevent infection."
Dr. McCoy went over to Lyra. "I would like to give you the same, Lyra. Especially if you ate or drank anything on the planet we are orbiting. Since you said that neither you nor Will is native to Cittagazze, you two may have ingested microorganisms that are not familiar to your immune systems. This'll help prevent a nasty case of the trots, at the very least." Lyra nodded. She was starting to like this folksy doctor, who, even without a daemon, reminded her of Lee Scoresby by the way he talked.
"Alright," said Lyra, yawning deeply. "I'm so tired. Since my Alethiometer says we're safe, I want to kip as well." Lyra kicked off her shoes, letting them fall to the deck. She then swung her thin legs up on the bed to lie down, wrapping the blanket around herself. Pantalaimon, still in ferret form, snuggled up next to Lyra.
"Oh, honey," said Nurse Chapel. "Wouldn't you like to wash up and change into something clean first?" But it was too late. Lyra was asleep.
"The kids can clean up later, Christine. Right now, they both need some sleep. Doctor's orders." McCoy held the hypospray to Lyra's neck and administered the injection.
Pantalaimon giggled. "That tickles!"
"What in Lucius Beebe!" Dr. McCoy nearly dropped the hypospray.
Nurse Chapel gasped. "Did that . . ., uh, did Lyra's . . . 'daemon' . . . just talk?"