Chapter 5
Boredom was one of the biggest problems on the outpost. At Don's suggestion, Kirk instituted an evening activity labeled 'Kirk Answers All.'
"I don't want to bore you with my life history, but I'll answer any questions you have. Nothing is too private or personal about my life. There are limits on what I can say about others due to confidentiality. And of course, certain things are classified for security reasons. Other than that, the field's wide open. What would you like to know?"
Kirk spent several hours each evening from then on telling stories. Some questions were funny. Others he managed to make the reply humorous. Some topics were very serious. In all of it, his goals were complete transparency, entertainment, and humor, preferably at his expense.
The fifth night, Don's eyesight returned. Kirk sat up with him all night, providing comfort, encouragement, and coaching through the hours of agony. The next evening, Don had the first question.
"Jim, some of the things you said to me last night showed an intimate acquaintance with pain. I want to know how you acquired that knowledge, but first, I have a confession to make."
The room got very quiet.
"You've been very open with us, but it's been all talk. I wanted to see it in action. Would you really give up an entire night's sleep just because I was hurting? Dr. McCoy gave me some pills to take, but I didn't take them. I was afraid I'd fall asleep. Besides, I didn't think I could fake the agony well enough to fool you.
"It was my intention to take the pills as soon as you gave up and went to bed. When I finally realized you weren't going to quit, I'd already gotten a taste of what you were talking about. So I decided to give it a try. If it got really awful, I could always give in and take the pills. And it did get awful, but I was never tempted to take the pills. I learned more about pain management in one night than I've ever known before. I'll never go back to taking pills."
Kirk smiled. "I too have a confession. I knew you had the pills, but if you weren't going to mention them, neither was I. And I know exactly when you decided to try. All of a sudden, you weren't fighting me any more. You were actually doing what I said, and it worked."
Kirk went on to talk about pain management in general, illustrating his points with events in his own life. Leon wanted to know what was the most painful experience in his life.
"That's virtually impossible to determine, because I don't retain in active memory what the pain felt like."
And he shared his recent experience with Spock's pain as an example of his inability to quantify pain.
"I will say this though. My worst experiences are not with physical pain at all, but with emotional pain. But that's a rather lengthy discussion, which it's too late to start on tonight."
During the next several evening sessions, Kirk shared his most emotionally painful memories. Processing emotional pain was much more difficult to describe, but he managed to convey that he was no more afraid of emotional pain than he was of physical pain. And he did not consider it a sign of weakness to display one's feelings.
xxxx
About a week later, Chuck requested Spock's assistance in conversing with Twenty-nine. He still thought it impossible, but he had promised Jim he would try. He broached the subject after dinner one evening.
"Spock, Jim suggested I ask you to help me talk to Twenty-nine."
"Conversation between his species and yours is extremely difficult."
Chuck wasn't feeling very patient with Spock's habitual understatement. "I would have said it was impossible, except I saw Jim do it. He said you could help me."
"Twenty-nine's people communicate telepathically, but it is highly painful due to the electrical receptors they utilize."
"I know. I tried it."
"Last year the Lord provided us with several days of pain-free contact. Everyone agreed it was a miracle. Without that miracle, the only way to sustain contact with Twenty-nine is to give the pain to Jesus. And that, in itself, is another kind of miracle. Do you wish me to pray for such a miracle for you?"
"No, I don't think so. I got the impression that Jim thought you could teach me to do this. He said nothing about a miracle."
"I am certainly willing to try to teach you. I can place no reliance on any estimate as to the success of such a venture, however."
"Neither can I, but I promised Jim I would try."
So they went to Twenty-nine's quarters. Upon hearing their plans, Twenty-nine was eager to cooperate. Chuck's first problem was the nausea. Spock's answer to that was simple.
"Close your eyes."
That helped a great deal. Twenty-nine wrapped his arms around Chuck, as First had done to Kirk on their initial contact. With Spock's encouragement, Chuck was able to handle that with relaxation.
"Chuck, can you still hear me?"
"Yes."
"Twenty-nine will now establish brief contact. Do not try to communicate with him. Concentrate on maintaining relaxation, the same way you did last week."
Twenty-nine touched his head for a moment only. Chuck gasped. This was much more intense than the eyes had been. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed.
"Do it again, please."
No sense of fear; rather a curiosity over the results of an experiment.
After several attempts, Chuck could maintain relaxation through brief contact. Then they began to lengthen the period of contact. After thirty minutes, they had increased the contact period to three and a half minutes. However, during all of this time, Twenty-nine had said nothing to Chuck. Finally Chuck expressed his frustration.
"Spock, why doesn't Twenty-nine talk to me? Three minutes isn't very long, but it's long enough to say something."
"He does not wish to disturb your concentration."
"Well, I want him to. The purpose of this is to talk, not find out how long I can stand the agony. So this time, let's talk, and never mind the clock. Don't stop unless I start screaming, okay?"
"Very well."
*Hi. My name's Chuck. You're Twenty-nine. So, tell me about yourself.*
What followed was not words, but a kaleidoscope of images, overwhelming yet fascinating. It all went by much too fast to process, almost too fast to register. Chuck was completely unaware of the pain, but suddenly darkness overtook him.
Twenty-nine began unwrapping Chuck, with alarm.
"Spock, I'm sorry. I think I may have damaged him."
"What happened?"
"He is unconscious."
"You have forgotten what pain does to his species?"
Twenty-nine finished unwrapping Chuck and laid him out on the floor. He hovered while Spock examined him.
"I am not a medical expert, but his heart and breathing rates seem normal. He will probably regain consciousness shortly."
"But you don't understand. I may have damaged his mind."
"How?"
"It's hard to explain. He requested that I tell him about myself. His request triggered an automatic download. It overwhelmed him."
"Show me."
Spock placed one of Twenty-nine's tentacles on his head. Twenty-nine replayed the download, stopping at the point that Chuck had passed out.
*Now play it again, this time letting me into Chuck's mind, so I am seeing and feeling what he did.*
Twenty-nine complied without protest. Afterwards Spock pondered for a moment.
*I do not believe his mind is damaged. If he does not regain consciousness within a few minutes, I will meld with him. If necessary, I will inform Dr. McCoy, who will undoubtedly be furious that we did not confer with him before attempting this.*
As Spock withdrew from Twenty-nine, Chuck stirred.
"Do not open your eyes. Please describe your symptoms."
"I'm not sure. Headache, I guess. Dizzy, sort-of. Not nauseated though. Feels like I'm floating - very relaxed. What happened? Did I pass out? Where's Twenty-nine?"
"Yes, you did. Twenty-nine is here, and worried about you."
"What for? I'm fine. Can we do it again? That seemed like more than three and a half minutes."
"It was 7.28 minutes. Why do you wish to do it again?"
"Because - because there's so much data. If I see it again, maybe I can sort some of it out."
"What is your assessment of the reason for your loss of consciousness?"
"I don't know. Does it matter?"
"It would be medically prudent to have an answer to that question before repeating the experience."
"Medically prudent? You want me to sign a waiver of liability? Come on, Spock; I don't feel that bad. Why are you dragging your feet?"
Twenty-nine interrupted. "It's my fault. It was an accident."
"Your request that Twenty-nine tell you about himself triggered an automatic download of data. He feared your mind was damaged. So, did you lose consciousness because your body could tolerate no more pain, or because your mind was overloaded?"
"I have no idea. I don't remember being aware of the pain at all. But I wouldn't have said the mind was overloaded either. Sure, it was overwhelming and I couldn't process it. But that's no reason for my mind to check out. You're the expert on minds, Spock; you tell me."
"From the available data, I would guess that you passed out from the pain. But I cannot be certain."
"If we did it again, you'd have more data. If you were me, you would do it again. Please, Spock."
"Very well, provided Twenty-nine is willing."
"I am."
So they did it again. This time Chuck needed no coaching from Spock. He was completely relaxed from start to finish.
*So, talk to me. What am I not supposed to say?*
*It was the way you worded the request for data. I am sorry it overwhelmed you.*
*I'm not. I'm tempted to do it again. Maybe next time. So Jim never stumbled onto this. I'm one up on him then. How did you and Jim meet?*
So Twenty-nine shared his experience of gaining freedom from fear with Jim's help. Chuck saw it, lived it, through Twenty-nine's eyes. But he condensed what had taken three hours into just over five minutes.
*That was incredible! Does Jim know about this way to communicate?*
*Oh, yes. He learned to do it too.*
*I noticed you left out what he shared with you.*
*Confidentiality rules prohibit my sharing that. But I will say I found it incredible. He and Spock both are.*
*I agree. If I could get Spock's permission, would you play me that tape of Jim's? Without condensing it? It's for some research I'm doing.*
*Are you a historian like Sixty-five?*
*No, the research concerns the Christian question aboard the Enterprise.*
*Ah, a worthy cause, but how could Spock give permission on Jim's behalf?*
*I don't know if he would, but if he did, would you consider it sufficient?*
*If Spock assured me that Jim-*
Chuck passed out again, having lasted 7.63 minutes. He regained consciousness again within a few minutes.
"Sorry, Twenty-nine. I lost you in the middle of a sentence."
"If he assured me that Jim would consider it so, then yes, I would."
"Good; I'll ask him then, but probably not today. I'm pressing the limits as it is."
Spock politely refrained from asking what they were talking about. They agreed that the loss of consciousness was due to the pain. Chuck had been aware of it this time, but reported no sense of increasing intolerance. He simply reached his limit and blacked out. But the headache was markedly worse, so Chuck agreed that was probably enough for one day.