Chapter 42
Kirk felt as though he were waking from a very long, waking nightmare. Something about a machine that took his memories, and someone who kept asking for secrets he didn't have. As he felt the pain of screws being removed from his head, it occurred to him that the nightmare might be reality, but he dismissed it as unlikely. Maybe he had broken his neck and was coming out of surgery.
He opened his eyes, but could see nothing but a bright light. He closed them again. Now they were removing what felt like wires from his head, and some strip of something across his forehead. He'd never had an EEG. Maybe there was something wrong with his brain. But he had had general anesthesia, and this did not feel like he'd felt coming out of that. Now they were removing the straps that had kept him immobilized. And somebody was talking again. But it was not the voice that had asked for the secrets.
"Kirk, can you hear me?"
Kirk heard his name, but the rest sounded like gibberish.
"What?"
"Oh, sorry." Konti switched to Standard. "I forgot. Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Can you stand up?"
"Don't know."
Kirk proceeded to climb out of the chair and stand, although somewhat shakily. Just as well that he kept a hand on the chair, because he was truly shocked at the sight of the two creatures facing him. This was either a very realistic nightmare, or he was in fact in very deep trouble. The beings facing him were definitely not human, and unless he was much mistaken, they were Klingons, arch-enemies of the Federation. The one on the right spoke again.
"Can you walk as far as that bench by the wall?"
Kirk did not reply, but began walking. Well, that explained the foreign accent, he thought. Foreign is an understatement. If these are really Klingons, then maybe the nightmare is reality. Safer to assume so, at least for now. He sat down and looked, not at the Klingons on either side of him, but at the machine from which he had come.
If that thing had taken his memory, then why did he still know who he was? Or even remember what had happened? Of one thing he was certain: they had not gotten what they were after. Be thankful for small favors. Make that big ones. He sighed. What now? Pick up the pieces and go on. He looked at the Klingon who spoke Standard.
"Much needs to be explained, but elsewhere. Are you well enough to walk out of here?" the Klingon asked.
Kirk was puzzled. "You are permitted to take me somewhere?"
"Yes. To my home."
"Do I have a choice?"
Kirk looked around and located the exits, as well as the other Klingons in the room. Only one appeared to be paying them any attention. But as soon as he made a wrong move, there would be six burly Klingons all over him. The odds were too high.
"I could carry you, if you were unconscious," the Klingon offered. "In fact, it would be safer that way. Fewer questions."
"Well, what are you waiting for? If you have permission to take me out of here, surely you also have permission to knock me out."
The Klingon hesitated, and Kirk saw in his eyes that the guy didn't want to hit him. This Klingon was not behaving the way he expected Klingons to behave. Well, that wasn't necessarily bad.
"You could fake it."
"That gentleman over there who is watching us will not be fooled by a fake."
"Doesn't matter. We're only trying to fool the guards and, how do you say, those who talk when they shouldn't?"
"Gossipers." Kirk grinned briefly. To Konti, a wonderful sight.
"So, are you willing?"
"What happens if I'm not? What if I walk over to that gentleman and tell him that you are trying to help me escape?"
The Klingon sighed. "First of all, he will not believe you. Secondly, he would take that action as proof that I cannot control you. It would provide him with an excuse to take you away from me. He is still very angry with you for thwarting him one more time. If you are under his control, your life expectancy becomes much shorter than it already is. In short, I would not recommend that course of action."
"He is the one who wants the secrets, then."
"You remember?"
"Only that he didn't get them."
Kirk looked into the Klingon's eyes for a moment. He could read no deceit there, but that didn't mean there wasn't any. Oh well, it appeared to be the only game in town.
"All right. I'll play your game."
And without another word, Kirk simply collapsed. Konti picked him up, swung him over his shoulder, and carried him out to the flitter, with Koh following. Silence all the way home. Konti carried Kirk into the house, this time setting him down on his feet.
"Coast is clear. We're home. You can open your eyes."
Kirk looked around and the first thing he saw was a third Klingon. They exchanged a few words, but Kirk didn't understand any of it. Who would have thought he should take Klingon as a foreign language?! French was bad enough!
He had thought to lower the odds, but three to one was still pretty high. Besides he needed more information. If they were smart, they wouldn't give it to him. They had taken seats, and were gesturing for him to sit on the floor. He noted the other two doorways, and wondered what lay beyond. In any event, it was unlikely he could reach the door they had entered by, before being tackled by one, if not all three Klingons.
"My name is Konti. This is Koh, and this is Kezak. I am the spokesman, because my command of your language is better than theirs. They will understand much of what I say, and none of this is news to them, so I will not need to repeat myself in Klingon. If at any time, you do not understand, because I have misused the language, please interrupt. I am by no means fluent in Standard."
"You're doing very well. I'm impressed."
"Sorry to interrupt, Konti, but Kirk needs to eat. Preferably non-stop for the next four hours."
"Of course. My apologies. See to it, if you would." To Kirk, "Koh will get you some food. You have had nothing in over 24 hours. Please eat while I talk."
Koh set a tall glass of liquid in front of Kirk. He picked it up. It smelled like fruit juice of some kind. He had no way of knowing if it was poisoned or drugged. He would have to risk it. He could not continue to function without sustenance. He drank the juice. Then Koh put a plate of food before him, with instructions to "Eat slowly."
It looked and smelled for all the world like a juicy steak. With it were a baked potato, dripping with butter, and an odd-looking vegetable, smothered in a sauce of some kind. Kirk ate, and while he ate, Konti talked. The tale he wove was absolutely fantastic, but so absurd as to be almost believable. And the things Konti said he had done - well, he hoped some day to have the courage and stamina to endure like that, but the attitude of disregard for self-preservation was ridiculous. Some of the things Konti said he had done were just plain stupid. So either they were lying to him, or there was something about this he just didn't understand. Konti finished the tale about the same time Kirk finished eating. He should know in about twenty minutes whether there was something in the food.
"Any questions? Did you understand what I said?"
"I understood your words very well. I'm still trying to sort out the content. Meanwhile, yes, I have a few questions. Where am I? If that machine took my memory, why do I still know who I am? Why didn't they get the secrets? Why am I still alive? Why don't you behave the way I expect? Why would I be so stupid as to tell Koh how to break me? That'll do for starters. And I don't suppose you have any proof that what you've told me is the truth?"
Kirk didn't expect answers. He'd asked just to gauge the reaction. But Konti took his questions seriously. Whether the answers were truthful was another matter.
"You are currently in my home. The building we just came from is military Headquarters. Both buildings are located in our capital city on the Klingon home world. Do you desire more detail?"
"You would give it to me?"
"With the exception of classified military secrets, I would tell you anything I know. You have only to ask."
Kirk didn't believe him, but decided not to pursue it. "I'll keep that in mind."
"As to why you know your identity, the machine is sufficiently selective that it did not remove any memories prior to your teen years. As to why they did not get the information they seek, you have said the information was removed from your mind by a friend named Spock. They do not believe you. They think you have some means to block their access."
Kirk had no mental or emotional response to the name 'Spock' and seriously doubted he could possibly have the ability to resist that machine. But he said nothing.
Konti went on. "I do not understand the nature of your next question. Can you explain why you might not be still alive. Do you think the machine was supposed to kill you?"
"No, but if they cannot get the information they seek, what further purpose is there in keeping me alive?"
"I do not believe they have given up. Also, Korn knows I don't want to kill you. And yes, the duty will be mine, because I own you."
"Why don't you want to kill me?" Kirk was genuinely puzzled.
"Because you are my friend. And that brings me to your next question. I do not behave as you expect, because you don't. You have consistently refused to think of me as an enemy. In spite of your position here, you treat me as an equal. You build no defensive walls to protect yourself. I assure you, I am quite capable of behaving like a typical Klingon. But when we are alone, it is unnecessary." He smiled without showing his teeth.
"Koh may have a different perspective on the stupidity of telling him how to break you, but this is what I see: you did it in order to become his friend. In my experience, there is no limit to what you will endure for the sake of a friend. Koh, do you have anything to add?"
"At first, it was a joke, I think. Then, the working together made a big difference in the lab. But also, I think you truly wanted to know what it would take to break you, what it would be like, and whether you could pick up the pieces afterwards."
"And did you find it?" Typically, Kirk was curious, rather than appalled.
"Yes, and no. We finally found a set of variables that produced a reaction you could not control. But when it was over, you promptly set about erasing its effects on you. When we tried it again about a week later, you did not lose control, nor have you since then."
"As to your last question, no, I can't prove it is the truth. But you anticipated this problem and wrote yourself a letter."
Konti rose, retrieved the letter from his desk, and handed it to Kirk.
"I hope it will help."
The letter was written with ink on real paper. No attempt had been made to seal it. Kirk opened it. The handwriting looked like his, but he supposed that could be faked. The question was, why would they bother? What purpose could they have that would require that he trust them? His attention was caught by the words on the page, and he began to read.
I will not try to convince you this letter is genuine, nor will I remind
you of some childhood secret no one knows. Konti will have told
you they have all your early memories from two previous sessions
with the mindsifter. But I know how you think. That has not
changed in 30+ years. Allow me to give you my perspective on
this bizarre situation.
Escape is undoubtedly your first thought. I will not tell you it's
impossible. The fact is, I haven't tried. But consider this: what
would you gain by escaping? You have no military secrets, no
duty obligation to return to the Federation. They undoubtedly think
you are dead. If by some miracle, you managed to reach
Federation space, what would you do when you got there? You
would be news for a few weeks. After that, you would be retired to
some safe, boring, planet-bound existence.
If you decide that escape is not worth the trouble, you have two
options. You could adopt the name, rank, and serial number
mentality. But if you behave like a prisoner, they will be forced to
treat you like one. Being locked in a cell day and night with
nothing to do is boring. I assure you that what I have been doing
these last months, while full of unpleasantness, has been anything
but boring.
Here's the challenge: total cooperation, absolute trust, complete
transparency. If you choose this option, you will not allow that
trust to be shaken by anything Konti does to you, or permits to be
done to you. Nor will you allow it to be eroded by the knowledge
that sooner or later, Konti will be forced to kill you. Avoidance of
pain is no part of the program. Indeed your existence will be full of
pain. And death is a certainty, only when and how remain in
question. Meanwhile, look for the humor. A little laughter goes a
long way.
These are your only options - there is no middle ground. Either
trust, or do not trust. Partial trust equals not trust. Also you
cannot pretend to trust, until an opportunity to escape presents
itself. Konti will know if your trust is not real. Jesus will tell him.
I hesitate to even bring this up, because I know you think He's
irrelevant. But I have had an encounter with Jesus that proves to
me that He's real, He's more powerful than anything or anyone
else, and He's made that power available to you now, in your
present situation. I belong to Jesus; that means, you do too,
whether you remember it or not. Call on Him for what you need;
He's here for you.
The last thing I want to share with you is my mission, my reason
for being here. I did not choose these circumstances, but God has
a purpose for me. He has preserved my life, and twice restored
my mind and its memories. His purpose is this: that I be a friend
to those He sends me, thereby showing by my life that God loves
them and wants to know them. You do not have to buy into this
purpose, but knowing it may help you understand why I have done
some of the things I've done.
Kirk read the letter twice. 'Be a friend.' 'Love your enemies, and pray for those that persecute you.' 'Perfect love casts out fear.' ie, trusts perfectly. The Scripture verses came unbidden. Well, the idea certainly was Biblical. But 'total cooperation, absolute trust, complete transparency'? That was crazy! Kirk doubted his ability, never mind his willingness. But was that what perfect love meant? If there was no fear, why not? Are you kidding!? Not to be afraid in this living nightmare was the height of foolishness.
But Kirk could not ignore the challenge. Escape would be equally challenging, probably fatal, and if not, the end result would be boring. Adopting the prisoner mentality was undoubtedly the easiest thing to do, but Kirk had never chosen what was easy, especially if it was boring. He looked up at Konti.
"Have you read this?"
"No. It was not mine to read."
Kirk handed him the letter. "Please, read it."
Konti did, then handed it back.
"Would you concur that this is an accurate assessment of the situation?"
"Yes."
Kirk thought for a moment longer as he gazed into Konti's eyes, again looking for deceit. If the letter was a fake, it was a very good one. What it said clarified his thinking, rather than try to persuade him unduly. Pain and death went with all options, so he dismissed that from consideration. Did he really have no obligation to escape? A 16-year-old mind inside a 50-year-old body would be useless to the Federation. The letter was right about that.
His dream to make it to the stars had apparently come true. Though this was not the end he had envisioned. He could accept it with dignity, or fight it tooth and nail. Instinct told him it would take more courage to accept it than to fight it. Konti interrupted his musings.
"Are you going to stare at me all afternoon? You don't usually take this long to make a decision. Can I help you?"
"No, you can't. Most teenagers are very insecure. Decisions are difficult. But I've made mine. I will cooperate with you to the best of my ability. I don't know whether I can trust you or not, and I do not know what transparency is. But I must warn you: if you present me with a golden opportunity to escape, I can't promise I won't take it."
"You're being transparent right now. Transparency is no secrets, not hiding anything from me. It's telling what you think and feel without editing. I have every confidence in your ability to cooperate. But trust is a two-way street. I must be able to trust you. Before you wrote that letter, you told me that if I was not absolutely certain that you trusted me, I must kill you, because if I did not, it would blow up in my face."
"You better kill me now then."
Kirk just sat there, waiting for it. Konti stared at him, then shook his head.
"No. I would rather you killed me, than for me to kill you."
"You will have to eventually, so why not do it now, and get it over with?"
"No. I will put it off as long as I can."
"What about these others?" He gestured at Koh and Kezak. "Do you wish to be responsible for their deaths too? Or, you think I can escape without killing any of you?"
"If you escape, we all die, even if you do not personally kill us. I will ask them."
He turned to Kezak and spoke in Klingon. Kezak responded. Then Konti turned to Koh and got a response from him too. Then he turned back to Kirk.
"They are likewise willing to risk it. We will not kill you until we must. And that time is not now."
"Why?" Kirk was truly puzzled.
Koh jumped in before Konti could respond.
"Kirk, you have been with us for six months. You have endured much at our hands, some of it engineered by you. Not once have you made an aggressive move, or tried to escape, and you have had many opportunities. At first, we admired your ability to endure, and we still do. But it's more than that. We like you because of the atmosphere you create. There's just something about who you are."
"Who I was. I'm a different person now."
"I don't think so. Everything I've seen since they unhooked you from that machine has been typical Kirk. You stood up without hesitation, even though you didn't know if you could. Your first sight of us was a shock, but the only reaction was a brief widening of the eyes. No hysterics, no fear. When Konti suggested you fake unconsciousness, there was no question of your ability to do so, merely whether it would achieve the desired result. Even now, you're calmly sitting here discussing whether Konti should kill you, with no apparent apprehension concerning the outcome."
While Koh talked to Kirk, Konti was talking to the Lord.
He said that I should ask You, Lord. Does he trust me? Surely You don't want me to kill him!
No, he doesn't trust you. He would like to, but he knows that he doesn't. And he can't understand why you refuse to kill him, even after he's told you to.
What shall I do, Lord?
He feels obligated, because you trust him, so he will try to trust you. Do not coddle him or make excuses for him. Require of him everything you would have expected before. When he discovers that he cannot do it, he will cry out to me. And Koh will hear.
Kirk looked at the three of them. "I don't understand you, but if you won't kill me, I guess I'll have to try to trust you. So what now?"
Konti explained in some detail about Kezak's shows and exactly what would be required of Kirk. Kezak began to take an active part in the conversation, which necessitated Konti acting as interpreter. Kirk vowed to himself to learn Klingon ASAP.
Kezak decided Kirk could memorize the twenty minute drama during the two hour flitter ride. He merely asked Kirk to demonstrate his ability to act like a slave. Kirk had it down pat with only two pointers from Kezak. The obstacle course wasn't a problem except for the second attempt at the tightrope walk. Kezak decided it was better that he fall twice, than demonstrate the ease with which he could walk the rope. Kirk assured him there was no way it would look easy.
"Don't be too sure. Remember, your body knows how to do this. You have to make sure it looks as if you don't. You're not afraid of the water, are you?"
"No problem there. I can make quite a scene, but it will be faked. Did I understand correctly that Konti's going to pull me out by wrapping the whip around my neck? Am I supposed to act like he's choking me, or drowning me, or am I supposed to ignore the fact that I can't breathe?"
"Usually you're too hysterical at that point to really know what's going on. A choked off scream would be fine, but the whole thing happens so fast, we haven't really had to worry about audience perception of that detail."
Kirk's eyes widened in surprise at the explanation of the electrified grid maze. Konti grinned at him, but did not discuss the trust level required to do this. Kezak's biggest concern was the last act - the public beating - primarily because Kirk would not be able to understand any instructions. Konti could not give them in Standard. So they worked out a series of signals that hopefully would cover all possible messages Kirk would need.
Kirk had no idea whether he could pull off the acting required for the beating. Kezak refused to mess up Kirk's back with any preliminary lashes.
But he wasn't worried. "Once an actor, always an actor. When was the last time you fell to the ground pretending to be mortally wounded?"
Kirk chuckled. "Not all that long ago."
"You see my point. The only difference is, you really will be in agony. But we have seen you separate the performance from the reality time after time. I think the skill will be there. You need not worry."
"Any questions?" Konti asked.
"Yes. I assumed the lack of clothes was to discourage escape. Surely you don't expect me to get up in front of a crowd of people with absolutely nothing on?! I may have a 50-year-old body, but I have a 16-year-old's sense of modesty."
"The lack of clothes is not because you are a prisoner, but because you are a slave. In our society, no male slave wears anything but the collar. I cannot permit you to wear clothes, or even a loin cloth. No one in the audience will be embarrassed."
"In other words, get over it. Okay, I'll try."