Chapter 8

Spock and McCoy sat in silence for about a half hour, during which Spock's attention was obviously elsewhere. Finally Spock sighed and looked at McCoy. At that moment, the intercom buzzed.

"Spock here."

"Sulu. 67 just called back. The Klingons have taken Captain Kirk captive and departed. The outpost was not fired on."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu. No doubt Captain Young will wish to continue course for 67. Please keep me informed." He paused. "And Mr. Sulu, it may comfort you to know that Captain Kirk is alive. I would know if he were not."

"Yes, thank you, Spock. Sulu out."

McCoy could contain himself no longer. "He's alive? But Spock, for how long? How long will it take him to die, and what's it going to do to you?!"

"I don't know, Doctor. The situation is not presently dangerous."

"If being a Klingon prisoner isn't dangerous, I don't know what you think is!"

"They do not intend to kill him at once. Currently, they are making sport of him."

McCoy put his face in his hands. "I don't think I want the gory details. Spock, how can you stand it?" McCoy stood up and began to pace. "Jim is being tortured to death, and we sit here doing nothing!"

"Jim is not dying. The present level of pain is hardly above mere annoyance. You will recall he said the Lord had a specific purpose in sending him to the Klingons. Where the Lord's will prevails, grace abounds. Emotionally, Jim is fine. Stop fretting."

"So I'm supposed to just leave you alone, assuming everything is 'fine'?!"

Spock sighed. "You cannot follow me around for days on end, nor can I spend the time tied to a diagnostic bed. I do not want what Jim and I are doing to become common knowledge aboard this vessel. The only reason I told you is so that if I suddenly lapse into a coma, you would know why. I will keep you informed at regular intervals. Meanwhile please pretend that everything is normal."

"Normal?!" McCoy shook his head. "I don't know what normal is any more. But I understand why you want this kept quiet, so I'll try."

"Thank you, Doctor."

xxxx

Khlat drove Kirk all over the ship. He could tell when they had an audience, because Khlat doubled or tripled the use of the whip. When they began a second tour of the ship, Kirk realized Khlat's purpose was two-fold: entertaining the crew, and wearing him down to exhaustion. He hoped he wasn't losing enough blood for that to be a major factor, but he could feel it trickling down his legs. Several hours later, Kirk wondered if Khlat would outlast him. Also, he was getting bored. He had the ship's layout memorized.

Finally Khlat stopped him at a major corridor intersection and proceeded to attach the leash to something overhead. He cinched it tight enough that the only way Kirk could get a decent breath was to stand on his toes. Then Khlat left. Kirk discovered, however, that he had left the whip behind. Every few minutes someone would come along and hit him with it. Kirk was surprised at their restraint.

What he didn't know about was the double guard that Khlat had posted. They were to ensure not only that Kirk did not escape, but that each crewman only hit him once each time they passed.

*Well, Spock, this isn't exactly the privacy you requested, but it may be the best we're going to get.*

*I agree. However, privacy is not the point. What I plan to do will render you unconscious for several hours. In your present circumstances, I do not think you would survive such a period of time.*

*Then we better come up with Plan B, because I don't think we're going to get the conditions you require.*

*I am beginning to reach the same conclusion.*

*Why do you need several hours?*

Kirk did not question Spock's prediction that he would be unconscious.

*To extract all Starfleet memories without destroying thirty years of personal history is difficult and time-consuming.*

*How long would it take you to destroy all my memories?*

*Jim, I do not think you understand. Normally, amnesia is created by blocking access to memories. The memories are still intact, and given certain conditions, the block is removed and access restored. The mind as a whole remains undamaged throughout this process. However, that is not what I am advocating doing to you. Merely blocking your memories is no defense against the mindsifter, and possibly not even certain drugs.

*To be effective, the memories must be permanently removed. If I take all your memories, not only will you not know who you are, you will not remember how to eat, or walk, or talk. The effect would be very similar to what the mind-sifter would do to you. If they resort to that, I will beat them to it, but only if I am very sure of their intentions. To answer your question, the task could be done in less than three minutes. If you are conscious and actively supporting me, it might be done in half the time.*

*I thought you said I would be unconscious.*

*As a result, you will be. But you can fight the loss of consciousness longer than any other human I know. And as long as you retain consciousness, you can refuse to fight what I am doing to you. On the other hand, if you are unconscious before I begin, then you cannot assist me.*

*Okay, I understand what we do about the mindsifter. But what about drugs? Is there any middle ground between what takes hours, and what takes only a couple of minutes? Could you take everything since I joined Starfleet, but leave all the early stuff? That way, I could function as an adult for what life is left to me.*

*Perhaps. That might be accomplished in something less than five minutes, so we could attempt it even in the present circumstances. However, there are certain problems with what you suggest. The physical agony associated with this surgery will last only a brief period of time. But the mental agony will probably not dissipate. I know you think your remaining life will be short, but you may be faced with years of living in mental anguish. The lost memories will remain an unfillable aching void for the rest of your life.

*A second and possibly more serious problem is that if I take all your recent memories, you will no longer remember your relationship with the Lord. If I understood you correctly, The Lord has put you in this place for His purpose. I wonder whether you can accomplish that purpose if you have forgotten who He is.*

*That is indeed a serious problem. And you can't just leave this past year's memories intact. There's a lot in there we don't want the Klingons to know. But maybe - it should be safe enough to leave everything since I came aboard this ship.*

*Yes, I could do that. Then you would know what had occurred since your arrival.*

*Not only that, but I would remember this conversation. I'd know what had happened to me and why. I'd know what I was doing here in the first place. But even better, if we spend the rest of the night discussing Jesus, I'd have all I need to accomplish the Lord's purpose here. We just have to discuss it in terms that don't give any clues about Starfleet.*

And that's what they did. It was a long night. Kirk spent altogether over twelve hours standing in that corridor. He was able to ignore the random pains from the head device, as well as the occasional whiplash. Residual pain from the previous wounds of the day didn't even rate any conscious awareness. The only external thing that required any of his attention was the breathing. He had established a pattern of ten breaths on his toes followed by ten breaths with relaxed leg muscles. This allowed him to avoid cramped legs while maintaining sufficient oxygen to the brain to stay alert. But sleep was out of the question, so he and Spock talked the night through.

Kirk knew when morning had arrived because traffic in the corridor was substantial due to morning shift change.

*Spock, it's time. Khlat may show up any minute. I don't think we should risk waiting until later. I may become too exhausted to be of any assistance. And there's nothing to be gained by waiting. I have enjoyed this last night of fellowship - an unexpected treat. And since I won't be able to thank you afterwards, let me say now how much I appreciate everything you have done for me. Words are inadequate, but I am grateful.*

*I too am glad for these last hours together. I will always remember you, Jim.*

Spock began the surgery without further words.

xxxx

McCoy made note of the fact that Spock did not appear for breakfast or lunch. Uhura told him that Spock had appeared on the Bridge only briefly that morning, requesting time to do personal research in his quarters. McCoy wasn't sure what Spock viewed as regular intervals, but if he thought once a day would be satisfactory, he was mistaken. So, after lunch, he went to Spock's quarters.

"Come in, Doctor. I shall be finished shortly. Please wait."

McCoy sat, and Spock lapsed into silence, again his attention obviously elsewhere. Some ten minutes went by. Spock's face took on a look of anguish that McCoy had not seen since the hate attack on First's vessel. Whatever was going on, Spock was not bothering to shield from McCoy. He waited in tense silence for Spock to explain. Finally Spock sighed, composed his face, and turned to McCoy.

"It is done. The link is broken."

"Is Jim dead, then?!" He could barely choke out the words.

"No, he is very much still alive. Even without the link, I will know when he dies. The Lord gave us this link, so that I could do for Jim what he needed. The task is accomplished; the link broken."

"Spock, the look on your face reminded me of the time when you attacked him on First's ship."

"This is possibly worse than what I did to him then."

"Worse?! Spock, talk to me. Don't try to carry this alone. Jim wouldn't want you to." Ordinarily Spock wouldn't shut him out, but this was far from normal.

"I have taken thirty years of his memories, leaving him with an aching void that will not heal. He believes his remaining life will be short, and the benefit worth the cost."

"And the benefit is?" McCoy tried to think rationally.

"The Klingons cannot take from his mind what is not there. He now has no memory of anything that occurred between the day he entered the Academy, and the moment he boarded the Klingon vessel. They will get no Starfleet secrets from Jim."

"The Lord wanted you to wipe his memory?!" Anger bubbled forth.

"I would have preferred a more selective surgery. But that would have required more time than was presently available. Jim did not want to risk waiting for an opportunity to present itself."

"So Jim told you to wipe his memory? Now they'll torture him to death, and he doesn't even know why?! What a way to die!" McCoy stared unseeing at the wall.

"Doctor, my concern is not for his death. He retains the knowledge of what has happened to him and why. My concern is for the hours, days, weeks, and months of life, which he must live with an aching mental wound that will not heal. Death is easy in comparison."

"Jim never did choose what was easy. Spock, it's not your fault. You mustn't blame yourself."

Spock squared his already straight shoulders. "I did the deed. I am responsible. I do not understand why your species feels it is better to blame someone else than to take responsibility for one's own actions."

"And what does the Lord think of your actions?" McCoy asked intently.

"The Lord understands Jim. I have learned to leave the care of Jim Kirk in His capable hands."