Chapter 4
Captain's Log, Supplemental: It has been almost 30 hours since we first arrived in what we have determined to be a parallel universe; orbiting an alternate version of Earth. At this time, we are not able to determine just how this happened to the Volynov or the Enterprise, much less how (or if,) we will be able to return to our own universe and our own Earth.
Mr. Spock has reviewed the final log entries of the Volynov, and has determined that the non-corporeal entities stalking her corridors were inadvertently beamed aboard from the planet's surface. Since this occurred during the emergency evacuation of a landing party, we are fairly certain that these creatures are not capable of space flight on their own and consequently do not pose any immediate threat to the Enterprise.
As for the 20th century Earth boy and the humanoid girl that we have beamed up from the planet we are orbiting, Dr. McCoy has informed me that they are both well and currently resting. It is my hope that, after Will and Lyra have rested, cleaned up and eaten, they may be able to shed some light on our current situation.
When Will Parry awoke, the first thing he saw was Dr. McCoy at his bedside to his right. Dr. McCoy was looking at the monitor above Will's bed. He then turned to Will and said, "Glad you finally decided to wake up. How do you feel?"
"How long?" said Will.
"Almost a full day," Dr. McCoy smiled. "You know, Will, the last time that I had someone from 1996 in that bed, he asked me the very same question. He even had a knife, though he was holding it to my throat when he asked me."
"Who was he?"
"Ever hear of Kahn Noonien Singh?" Dr. McCoy told Will of how the Enterprise found Kahn and fifty of his followers a few years ago, drifting in space in the sleeper ship SS Botany Bay; the DY-100 Kahn had stolen from the American space agency, NASA.
Will knew about the genetically-enhanced warlord from BBC reports. The telly was always on at his home for background noise and hardly a day went by without some report of Kahn's atrocities. Kahn was said to be five times stronger than any ordinary man and had one-hundred times the greed and ambition. Kahn Noonien Singh made Saddam Hussein and his sons combined look like Mother Theresa by comparison.
When the BBC started reporting about Kahn, Will would have nightmares of Kahn and his followers invading the UK, threatening his mother and him. In Will's dreams, the 'supermen,' as the tabloids called them, would be slowly advancing on Will and his mother as they both trembled in a corner of their home. Will would be holding his cat, Moxie, standing in front of his mother, offering what scant protection he could.
And the dream would end with his father, Colonel John Parry, in full Royal Marine battle gear, coming to their rescue, defeating Kahn in mortal combat and being Knighted by the Queen. And then the Parrys would all live happily ever after; reunited as a family.
But lately, between trying to be inconspicuous at school and keeping up with chores at home as he took care of his sick mother; wasting time and energy worrying about politics was a luxury that Will Parry could not afford.
Still a little sleepy, Will rubbed his eyes. Then, he remembered his hand. His left hand, missing the two small fingers, no longer bled or throbbed with pain. He carefully flexed his remaining fingers. As Will's vision focused, he saw that new skin had covered the stumps. Will was about to thank Dr. McCoy for healing him when he noticed that the bed to his left was empty.
"Dr. McCoy, where is Lyra?"
"Don't worry, Will," said Dr. McCoy. "Lyra woke up about two hours ago, and Nurse Chapel took her to get cleaned up and dressed. Oh, that reminds me; here you are." Dr. McCoy handed Will a black plastic case marked, 'Personal Hygiene Kit – Human Male – Earth.' "You'll want to get clean yourself, Will. We're supposed to meet the ladies in the mess hall when you're done to get a bite to eat. I can imagine you are hungry."
Will nodded. He could not remember the last time he had eaten anything. At the cinema with Lyra? From a street vendor? He swung his legs off of the bed and sat upright, standing on the floor. (Or rather, the deck, as he remembered he was aboard a ship. A starship.) Immediately, Will felt dizzy and steadied himself against the bed.
"Hold on there, Will," said Dr. McCoy. He had his tricorder out in an instant, scanning Will. "No need to worry, young man. You just got up a little too fast. Give it a moment, and you'll be fine!"
"But, I need to clean up; Lyra and Nurse Chapel are waiting for us to meet them in the mess hall."
"They also had a two-hour head start," said Dr. McCoy. "And, when I last spoke to Nurse Chapel a few minutes ago, she told me that Lyra was almost ready. But trust me, Will, these are women; 'almost ready' means that you have at least an hour, probably more, to get ready yourself!"
"Then I'd better get started," said Will. "And Dr. McCoy; thank you for making my hand better!"
After Will Parry had showered and dressed, he and Dr. McCoy sat at a table in the mess hall, waiting for Nurse Chapel and Lyra to arrive. "You sure you don't want a little snack while we wait for the ladies," said Dr. McCoy. "Take it from the voice of experience, Will. Women are notorious for taking their sweet time to get ready for dinner; especially when they know men are hungry!"
Will politely declined Dr. McCoy's offer. For now, he was determined to wait for Lyra and Pan. When Dr. McCoy last spoke to Nurse Chapel on the intercom a few minutes earlier, she said that she and Lyra were almost ready. But after twenty more minutes had passed, Will's stomach began to growl, and Dr. McCoy's offer of a snack was starting to sound better and better.
Will watched the door to the mess hall as crewpersons came and went, hoping that Lyra would be the next person to come in. Partly because he was starving, but mostly because he was anxious to see his friend again. The last time the door had opened; Will had to force himself to not stare. The woman who came through the door looked like a human-sized two-legged cat! Will wondered in passing how his cat, Moxie, would react if she were to meet this person, who Dr. McCoy said was named Lieutenant M'Ress.
Just as Will's stomach growled again in protest, the mess hall door opened and Nurse Chapel came in with Lyra. Pantalaimon, who was in the form of a colorful butterfly, hovered close to Lyra's head. Both Will and Dr. McCoy stood to greet the ladies.
Nurse Chapel explained that they had had a 'slight problem' finding clean clothing for Lyra to wear. While the children slept on the medical diagnostic beds in sickbay, the computer scanned them and calculated their sizes. Dr. McCoy requested the Wardrobe Section to fab copies of blue Starfleet duty uniforms (without insignia,) for Will and Lyra to wear instead of the filthy clothes they were wearing when they were beamed aboard.
Dr. McCoy thought that Will looked good in his new clothes, (they even managed to get Will's boot-size right the first time, thought McCoy, who was never so lucky!) The only non-Starfleet item was the belt and sheath holding Will's Subtle Knife. But Lyra said the Starfleet-regulation skirt was "too short" for her. Moreover, she absolutely refused to wear trousers under any circumstances.
So for nearly an hour, with the Wardrobe Section waiting on standby, Nurse Chapel and Lyra (with some input from Pantalaimon,) consulted the computer for the latest fashions that were popular with twelve-year-old girls. Finally, with some goading from Pan, who was starting to feel Lyra's hunger, Lyra selected a crème-colored button-down blouse and an ethnic-print skirt with matching headscarf, vest and slippers. A small shoulder bag for Lyra's Alethiometer completed her outfit, and Lyra smiled broadly when Nurse Chapel said that she didn't mind if Lyra wore the shoulder bag "indoors."
Lyra said that her new clothes made her "look like the Gyptians," of her world, although Nurse Chapel had told her that the style was actually from a planet called Bajor. Pantalaimon, wanting to try something new himself, took the form of a small animal Nurse Chapel had described. But after a few moments as a purring ball of fur, Pan decided that being a "tribble" wasn't for him, and reformed himself as a butterfly.
Will thought that Lyra looked very pretty. He immediately pulled a chair out for her, next to where he was sitting. "You really look nice, Lyra."
"Thank you, Will," said Lyra. "It feels so good to be clean."
Lyra had showered for over an hour, partly to get clean, mostly because it felt so good. And Pantalaimon, who had taken the form of a duck for the occasion, enjoyed it as well. This was the first shower she had ever taken since her stay at Bolvangar. Before that, she had only (grudgingly,) taken baths drawn for her by Mrs. Lonsdale at Jordan College.
Lyra looked at Will, surreptitiously glancing at his left hand as he held a chair for her. Lyra could not believe it, but Will's hand was completely healed! She smiled at Will as he sat in the chair next to her. "You clean up very nicely, yourself, Will Parry."
"Y-you smell really good, Lyra," said Will, kicking himself for sounding so stupid.
"Oh, that," said Lyra, giggling. Pan, still in butterfly form, landed on Lyra's head, gently flapping his wings. "Christine let me use some of her soap and shampoo. It's uttaberry-scented." Uttaberries, Lyra explained, came from a planet called 'Betazed.' She told Will that the Betazoids looked like they did. (Like Will, anyway, since they did not have daemons.)
"Christine also said that the Betazoids are mind-readers!" said Lyra. "Don't suppose they have much use for an Alethiometrist!"
"I'd love to hear more, Lyra," said Will. "Why don't you tell me while we eat?"
"Good idea!" said Lyra.
Lyra asked for hotdogs, hamburgers, and popcorn. Will asked for roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. Unfortunately, Lt. Kyle had eaten the last roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner a week ago, so burgers and hotdogs it was. The galley also sent up a plate of fried potatoes, a tureen of chicken-noodle soup, a bowl of fruit salad, and a chocolate (Lyra called it 'chocolatl,') cake. To drink, there was a pitcher of lemonade and another of iced tea.
Dr. McCoy helped himself to a hotdog and a small bowl of soup. Nurse Chapel took some soup and fruit salad. Will and Lyra just ate. A bite of hamburger. A forkful of chocolate cake. A wedge of fried potato. A spoonful of soup. A bite of hotdog. Some fruit salad.
Will and Lyra just stoked themselves. Oh, their table manners were atrocious! McCoy pretended not to notice Lyra wiping her mouth on her sleeve several times. More than once, Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel had to admonish the children to slow down. No one was going to take their food away, and there would be plenty more to be had later.
As Will and Lyra ate, Dr. McCoy watched Pantalaimon, who had changed from a butterfly into a raccoon, and was chewing on an imaginary morsel. Whatever these 'daemons' are, thought Dr. McCoy. They don't appear to need any food themselves. Lyra's eating seems to satisfy Pan's hunger.
A short time later, Captain Kirk came into the mess hall with a serious looking dark-haired man in a red shirt. As they approached the table, Will saw that Captain Kirk looked pleasant enough, but the other man looked very unhappy.
"Well, Bones," said Kirk. "How are our guests doing? Are they well? Rested? Getting enough to eat?"
Lyra brushed some cake crumbs from her mouth and took a quick gulp of lemonade. "Oh, yes! Thank you, Captain," said Lyra. "Will and I were so hungry!" Pan, still in raccoon form, lay on his back on the table. He let out a loud, juicy burp, and Lyra's face reddened slightly as she covered her mouth with her hand. Everyone laughed.
Everyone, that is, but the man in the red shirt. He looked sternly at Will, who swallowed hard. "So . . . Ye would be the lad that did all the damage to the transporter room. We had ter replace the entire control console and the pattern buffer! Ye would nae be secretly workin' fer the Klingons or the Romulans as a saboteur, now would ye?"
"N-no, sir. I'm sorry, sir," said Will, feeling nervous.
"Are ye now?" replied the Scotsman, whose West Lothian accent was so thick, Will doubted that even his Subtle Knife could cut through it. "Well . . . if ye really are sincerely sorry, lad, than I guess I hae nae choice but ter forgive ye!" He smiled broadly and offered Will his hand. "Lieutenant-Commander Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineer of the USS Enterprise, at yer service."
"Will Parry." The boy smiled back as he shook the man's hand. "Very pleased to meet you, sir."
"Ah, yer English!" said Scotty, taking note of Will's own accent. "Well, denna worry, laddie, I'll nae be holdin' that against ye! And where abouts would ye be from, then?"
"Winchester, sir."
"Well, I'm from Linlithgow! That makes us next-door neighbors!" When Scotty saw the puzzled look on Will's face, he added, "Best remember when ye are, Will. Winchester to Linlithgow is only a few seconds away by transporter terminal!"
Then Scotty turned to Lyra. "Och, and where are my manners? I dinna believe we've been properly introduced, lass!"
Lyra smiled at the Scotsman. "I'm Lyra Belacqua, and this," she pointed to the raccoon on the table, "Is Pantalaimon; he's my daemon."
"Demon, now, ye say? Well, he does nae look all that 'demonic' ter me," said Scotty, reaching to pat the little critter on his belly.
"SCOTTY, NO!" said Dr. McCoy. Everyone at the table tensed. Scotty froze in place. Pan changed into a mouse and scampered up Lyra's arm and onto her shoulder.
"Dr. McCoy," said Scotty. "What the devil just happened?"
Dr. McCoy explained the situation to Scotty; telling the engineer that Nurse Chapel's attempt to touch Pantalaimon was the spark that set off the misunderstanding in the transporter room. When McCoy was finished, Scotty promised he would never attempt to touch Pan again.
Captain Kirk promised to issue a ship wide announcement instructing all personnel that Pantalaimon was not to be touched, under any circumstances, as soon as he returned to the bridge.
"There is much we have to learn about your people, Lyra," said Captain Kirk. "If you don't mind, Scotty and I would like to join you at your table, have a bite to eat, and ask you a few questions."
"Questions about me and Pantalaimon?" said Lyra, petting Pan gently to sooth him.
"Not at the moment," said Kirk, realizing that the subject was bound to be sensitive. "I'm mainly interested in how you and Will first met each other and came to be on the planet that we are orbiting. Anything you are able to tell us may help shed some light on how we ended up in this parallel universe ourselves. But first, I'd like something to eat!"
Kirk surveyed the serving platters on the table. The plate the sandwiches were on was empty and only one lonely carrot slice barely floated in what soup remained in the tureen. Only crumbs remained on the cake plate, and the fried potatoes were just a memory.
"There is still some fruit salad left, sir," said Will.
"Oh, it is so delicious!" said Lyra. "We have fruit salad where I am from; but we can't make it this cold and refreshing!"
At the thought of fruit salad for lunch, Kirk just rolled his eyes, even as Will spooned Lyra and himself another serving. Fortunately, all was not lost. Even after all they ate, Will and Lyra said they were still hungry, so Dr. McCoy had requested a southern-fried chicken picnic from the galley about ten minutes before Kirk and Scotty joined them.
As they waited for the food to arrive, Lyra and Will took turns telling Captain Kirk and the others how they first came through the windows in their respective worlds to Cittagazze; the planet that the Enterprise was currently orbiting. Lyra did most of the talking with Will filling in the occasional detail.
As Lyra spoke, Kirk got the impression that he was in the presence of a highly-skilled master storyteller, and frankly, some of what she said sounded quite far-fetched. Sentient, iron-working polar bears? Flying, centuries-old witches? A golden compass that could measure truth? A knife that could cut windows into parallel universes? And it all revolved around the search for Will's missing explorer father and a mysterious element that Lyra called 'Dust.'
It wasn't that Kirk thought Lyra was lying or even exaggerating about the adventures she and Will had had. After the past five years in command of the Enterprise, Captain Kirk knew the value of keeping an open mind. In addition, he remembered what Lyra told Will after she consulted her Alethiometer, defusing the tension in the transporter room: It's alright, Will; we can trust these people.
Captain Kirk then asked Lyra if she would let Scotty scan her Alethiometer with his tricorder. Lyra nodded and, wiping her hands on her skirt, removed the golden compass from her pouch, opened the cover, and sat it on the table for Scotty to scan. A few minutes later, Scotty closed his tricorder and shrugged.
"Well, Scotty," said Kirk. "What can you tell me about Lyra's Alethiometer?"
"It's . . . pretty, sir."
Captain Kirk sighed impatiently, and the chief engineer continued his report. Scotty described Lyra's Alethiometer as looking like a joint-effort between Charles Babbage and Peter Carl Faberge. His tricorder indicated that the instrument was hand-made centuries ago, probably by a single craftsman. It was tightly packed with precision gears, levers and springs, with thirty-six icons skillfully enameled on a gleaming ivory dial.
And Scotty said he had no idea whatsoever how it worked.
"Go on, then," said Lyra. "Would you like me to demonstrate for you?" She picked up her Alethiometer. "Right. Now, ask me anything."
"Alright, Lyra," said Scotty. "Last year, I had ter rig the Enterprise wi' a captured piece of hardware so we could escape from the Romulans. Now tell me, Lass: what did the hardware do and how did I install it on the Enterprise?"
Lyra adjusted the three small knobs, looked at the engineer, and closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the alethiometric trance, letting the truth come to her. A few moments later, Lyra opened her eyes and said, "It was an invisibility engine that you took from the Romulans, and you had to make it part of the Enterprise's shields."
"Aye," said Scotty, clearly impressed.
"Now, try me," said Captain Kirk.
Lyra repeated the procedure. This time, she saw a young Skraeling woman, whose ancestors came from Captain Kirk's world. And the Alethiometer told Lyra that she was Captain Kirk's wife, who died the year before. She was stoned to death, along with their unborn child . . . .
"Your wife . . . your child," said Lyra softly. "You could not enter the asteroid deflector control room in time to save her. Oh, Captain Kirk, I'm so sorry . . . ." Lyra brushed away a tear and closed the cover of the Alethiometer. Pantalaimon transformed himself from a mouse to a white ermine, looking at Kirk with sad eyes.
Kirk nodded. "Alright, I'm convinced that it works."
Then, Will asked if Captain Kirk would like Mr. Scott to scan his Subtle Knife. Once more, Kirk nodded, and Will pulled the gleaming blade out of its sheath. Again, Scotty activated his tricorder, passing it over the blade. When the engineer finished scanning the knife, he asked Will to return the knife to its sheath. Then, Scotty turned to Captain Kirk, looking worried.
"Sir," said Scotty seriously. "I'll be wantin' ter scan Will's knife again; this time wi' a tricorder optimized fer physics t' be sure, but that knife is sharp, sir."
"How sharp is it, Mr. Scott?" said Kirk, thinking Scotty was being a bit melodramatic.
"Sharp enough ter cut through neutronium wi' nae trouble at all, sir. And that, captain, is nae exaggeration."
Kirk was about to say something when he heard Spock's voice coming over the intercom. "Bridge to Captain Kirk."
Captain Kirk excused himself from the table and went over to the intercom panel on the wall. "Kirk here; go ahead, Spock."
"Captain, we have received another communicator signal from the surface of Cittagazze. Your presence is required in the transporter room."
"On my way; Kirk out."
As Captain Kirk excused himself from the mess hall, he caught the aroma of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits and coleslaw as the food slot door opened and Dr. McCoy set the tray in front of the still hungry children.
Interlude: In The Land of the Dead
"Of course, we had absolutely no idea whatsoever how Lyra's Alethiometer worked," said James Kirk to the harpies. "Our theory at the time was that Lyra's species was telepathic, and that her Alethiometer was merely the tool she used to help her mind focus and direct her psionic abilities; but that the Alethiometer had no truth detection capabilities in and of itself."
"I had given Lyra a full medical scan," added McCoy. "But could find none of the usual suspects that would indicate psionic abilities. We found no traces of kironide in her bloodstream. Her brain waives registered as standard humanoid and had nothing in common with other known telepathic species such as Betazoids or Vulcans."
"Nothing at all?" said Gracious Wings. The harpy raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Well, not exactly nothing," said McCoy. "I mean, there was definitely a bioelectric energy link between Lyra and Pantalaimon, but I could not detect any other actively projected bioelectric energy that is common to telepathic communication.
"Now, it was theoretically possible that with Lyra's species, psionic abilities were passive only, but all other known telepathic species had evolved the dual ability to transmit as well as receive."
"We needed contact with other members of Lyra's species to learn more," said Kirk. "Unfortunately, the old proverb that one should be careful what one wishes for, was to prove all too true . . . ."
Captain Kirk met Spock and two security guards outside of the transporter room. When they entered, Lt. Kyle was speaking to someone on the console's communicator link.
"What is it, Spock," said Kirk. "A survivor from the Volynov?"
"Negative, Captain. We are in contact with a woman who claims to be the mother of the girl we beamed aboard two days ago."
"Now, I'll need you to stand still, ma'am," said Lt. Kyle into the communicator link. "I am reading a 'double-image' on my scanner; you are difficult to lock onto." Then a thought came to Kyle. "Ma'am, do you have a . . . 'daemon?'"
"Of course I have a daemon," said a lovely, luxurious, though slightly annoyed voice from the communicator. "What kind of silly question is that?"
"Ma'am, I'll need you to hold your daemon as close to yourself as possible . . . ah, there we go. That's got it. I have full transporter lock. I'm energizing the pad, now."
Kirk, Spock and the others watched as two shimmering columns of light formed on the pad. When the shimmering coalesced, the smaller column took the form of a small travel bag with a Type-3 phaser rifle leaning against it. The larger one took the form of a beautiful, dark-haired woman holding a golden monkey.
The woman was stylishly dressed in an outfit that looked like a contemporary interpretation of 1930's Hollywood glamour. Kirk remembered Edith Keeler showing him a similar dress in a magazine during his brief stay in the past, courtesy of the Guardian of Forever.
But this woman was not Edith Keeler. Imperiously, she surveyed her surroundings. She still held the open Starfleet-issue communicator in her left hand while she supported the golden monkey with her right arm. The overall effect made her look like a 21st century 'celebutante,' complete with cellular telephone and exotic 'accessory pet.'
"I am Captain James T. Kirk. Welcome aboard the United Federation of Planets starship, USS Enterprise."
"Remarkable . . . ," said the woman. "Am I to understand that travel by anbaric energy is considered mundane where your people come from?" Before Kirk could answer, she continued. "My name is Marisa Coulter, and I have reason to believe that my dear daughter, Lyra Belacqua, is aboard your ship. I am here to take her home."
Marisa Coulter stepped off of the transporter platform, moving purposefully towards Kirk. She closed the communicator and handed it to him. "I believe this belongs to your people, Captain Kirk," she said, then indicated the bag still on the platform. "In addition, the coal-silk bag that I have brought with me contains all the equipment that I could find from the bodies of your fallen comrades." As Mrs. Coulter spoke, her golden monkey pointed towards Spock.
"And . . . you are . . . what?" said Mrs. Coulter.
"I am Spock, First Officer of the USS Enterprise."
"That is not what I meant," said Mrs. Coulter pleasantly, but with a touch of annoyance. "And I think you know it."
Spock raised his eyebrows. "I am a Vulcan."
Though not completely satisfied with Spock's answer, Mrs. Coulter accepted it. For now. "Do none of your . . . 'people' . . . have daemons, Captain?"
"None. You and Lyra are the first people with 'daemons' that we have ever encountered."
"Ah. So, my daughter is on your ship? Then you must take me to her at once!"
Though Kirk maintained a poker-face, he kicked himself inwardly. How could I have been caught off-guard so easily? He thought. "Lyra claims that you are not her mother."
"Then don't take my word for it, Captain Kirk," replied Mrs. Coulter patiently. "By all means, confirm my claim to your own satisfaction. Surely a people who are capable of travel by anbaric wave and star-ships have an equally efficient method to verify a simple claim of maternity?"
When Kirk, Spock and Mrs. Coulter arrived at the captain's conference room, Kirk spoke into the intercom. "Kirk to Dr. McCoy."
"McCoy here. Is there a problem, Jim?"
"No. Are . . . Will and Lyra still with you, Bones?"
"Yes, they are. We are still in the mess hall, Jim. The kids are still hungry and we are waiting on a hand-tossed Aldebaran Shellmouth and Andorian tuber root pizza!"
"Bones, I will need you to escort Lyra and Will to my conference room immediately. Bring your tricorder. Kirk out."
And Mrs. Coulter, allowing herself the hint of a satisfied smile, sat at the head of the conference room table and waited. Her golden monkey was tense with anticipation.