House of the Arch-mage
Spock floated in darkness. It covered him like a heavy blanket and was impossible to penetrate.
He forced his sudden surge of alarm aside. Control. Remember your last moment of awareness.
Years of practise at the disciplines necessary for his inner peace readily came to his assistance. The temporary regression into emotion dissipated and his logical mind reasserted itself. Diligently he turned his attention to assessing his state of health, and discovered no ill effects except for the unnatural lassitude of his body. His deductive reasoning - although not at peak efficiency - was functioning well enough and he recalled his last memory.
He had been in the Captain's cabin discussing the Vonda Anomaly when dizziness had overcome him. For an instant he had sensed the presence of an immensely powerful mind and, before there had been time to retaliate, an irresistible force had immobilised him. He had retained consciousness for only twelve point two seconds but during that short time had sensed himself helplessly spinning through the anomaly
Ridiculous, his rational mind mocked. No vulcanoid can travel space without the protection of an artificially controlled environment.
It was illogical to believe such fanciful nonsense. His imagination could - at times - be most disconcerting. There had to be another answer. Yet the touch of that being's thoughts had been so real. Could some alien force have attacked the Enterprise? He permitted a small part of his brain to contemplate that theory while he concentrated on his priorities; rousing himself from the stupor that imprisoned him. Spock called on all of his formidable will to break whatever held him in thrall but its overwhelming weight seemed to increase with each attempt to break free.
I am a Vulcan, he intoned. I am a Vulcan. I cannot be trapped in sleep. I have total control over mind and body. I will awaken now. He gasped as the force crushed the very breath from his body. I shall not yield. He centred his mental processes on his fight for awareness. I shall prevail, he commanded.
A sickening wrench was followed by a thunderous crash and then he was free. Trembling with reaction, Spock lay motionless for a time before extending his perceptions.
The reality startled him. He lay on a warm, comfortable material; the soft breathing of others and the crackling of burning logs all that were audible. Tranquillity permeated the surroundings and reassured by that, Spock opened heavy eyelids to see finely detailed carvings of mythical beasts on a high arched ceiling above him.
Experimentally he stretched out his limbs, found no restraint, and carefully turned onto his side. A sharp stab of pain tugged at his head, and he lifted himself onto his elbow and stared confusedly at the mass of dark hair that swung freely across his face. The unnatural weight and feel of the thick strands only served to disorientate him further.
He struggled into a sitting position. Am I dreaming?
Spock dismissed the absurd notion. He was very much awake now; there was no time for foolish concerns over hair that appeared to have grown halfway to his waist. He must determine the identities and health of his companions.
He knelt to check the others. They were all Enterprise crew members and he was relieved on seeing them unharmed although he could not prevent a slight smile of disbelief from forming at the alterations they had undergone. Kirk lay on his back, his muscular frame attired in a short-sleeved golden brocade doublet, delicately embroidered with symbols at the neck. Black leggings and boots completed the outfit. The Captain's hair reached his shoulders and was held under control by a headband encrusted with precious stones. A gold torque encircled his neck and broad armlets, skilfully fashioned to represent dragons resting their jaws on their tails, glinted rosily in the reflection of the log fire.
Spock blinked once. The image remained and with a slight frown of disbelief he turned to study the rest.
McCoy wore an ankle length green velvet robe of simple design. His feet were encased in moccasins and his hair had lengthened only to the edge of the high-necked garment.
Uhura was dressed in a scarlet satin gown with a low cut neckline piped with black lace. Matching slippers clad her tiny feet. Exquisite jewellery made from diamonds and gold adorned her; clasps sparkled brilliantly against her loosely coiffured hair, earrings dangled against her neck and a necklace encircled her throat.
Christine Chapel was clothed in a sleeveless dress reminiscent of classic Grecian design; the aquamarine silk was of the finest texture and clung to her body like a second skin. Her bare feet were strapped into leather sandals. Her blonde hair was styled into an elegant chignon and her jewellery consisted of pearl earrings, necklace and bracelet.
Sulu was garbed in a red leather jerkin and breeches. A white, silky shirt was visible beneath the unlaced upper garment; a black scabbard decorated with tiny silver tacks was attached to his belt and he was shod in studded knee-high boots. His black hair was long and straight, tied back at the nape of his neck by a leather band.
Last was Chekov, curled up like a child, his youthful face hidden by the thick strands of his dark locks. A white chiton spun from the finest wool, and soft boots were his only apparel.
Spock noted the details with Vulcan rapidity, then progressed to the next logical step. He moved to his captain's side and tried to wake him. When Kirk did not respond, he attempted to rouse the others; all appeared to be in a drugged torpor but not in any noticeable danger to their health. With emotion clawing at him that he would never admit was sheer frustration, Spock desisted in his useless efforts and turned his attention to their environment.
It was a luxuriously furnished sleeping chamber with heavy purple drapes lining the walls and crisp embroidered linen covering the large, mahogany four-poster bed. There were cabinets of varying sizes built from the same wood but none would open to his touch; the fire burned merrily in the hearth yet Spock could not see a chimney or vent for the smoke to escape. Puzzled, he started to search the room and under a small curtain, which could be hooked aside, was a corner alcove where a long mirror with serpents etched into its silver frame hung against the wall. Beneath it lay a shelf with an assortment of brushes, combs, pins, and bands.
The unassuming Vulcan stared at his barbaric appearance in shock. A pre-reform warrior looked back at him! A long-sleeved indigo silk tunic covered his body to mid thigh and was belted by a gem-studded, black leather sash. Tight black leggings hugged his thin legs and soft comfortable ankle-length boots enclosed his narrow feet.
Spock recalled the priceless portrait of 'Strann the Warrior' on display in the Shikahr Museum. It was thought to have been painted by one who had known the legendary hero. As a boy Spock had secretly been thrilled by the knowledge that he bore some resemblance to Strann; now in these clothes the likeness was remarkable. Only one minor detail differed and that could easily be remedied. With instinctive skill, the First Officer of the USS Enterprise braided the locks of hair on either side of his face and secured them at the back of his head with leather strips.
He then completed his painstaking search of the windowless room but found no exit.
How have we been imprisoned here? A transporter? Or perhaps the door is hidden.
The crew of the Enterprise had seen many strange things. It was entirely possible that this was an illusion, a nightmare or a drug-induced delusion. They could still be on board the ship, yet it seemed so real. His telepathic senses told him so and his normally disregarded human intuition whispered its agreement.
But if this is real, where are we?
He knelt by his captain whose special qualities were needed in this illogical situation. It was essential that his friend be briefed on their predicament so it was permissible to initiate contact under such circumstances and attempt to bring Jim out of the unnatural sleep he was in. The Vulcan prepared himself for the necessary controls needed for the meld. Lowering his barriers was an ordeal which was why he rarely used this natural ability of his father's species; the barrage of emotions emanating from the continually broadcasting human mind was almost intolerable for someone as intensely private as he. Yet as he brought slender fingers to rest on the side of his captain's face, Spock knew that this one being was different from any other. With Jim there had never been the all too common experience of discomfort or psychic trauma. This mind was compatible with his and welcomed him.
Its natural shielding did not resist his entry to the deeper levels of consciousness and Spock soon found the glowing light which was his friend's inner self. He moved swiftly forward until he was surrounded by its blinding glow then concentrated on penetrating the mind's barrier here at the very core, marvelling at the trust given as it yielded and permitted him entry.
He was not surprised to find himself on the bridge of the Enterprise for Jim's very spirit was connected to his ship. The Captain stared at the blank viewscreen and appeared small and lost as he crouched on the centre seat in a posture totally foreign to his normally confident nature.
Jim, Spock called, envisaging himself in his Starfleet uniform, knowing that Kirk would also see him that way.
Kirk jumped to his feet and spun around. Spock, where did you come from? I thought I was completely alone! He moved forwards and clasped Spock's wiry arms. I can't leave the Bridge and no-one answers the intercom.
Captain, we are in your mind. Forgive this intrusion but it was imperative to speak with you.
The human's eyes widened in shock then sudden understanding. He recovered quickly and smiled in reassurance. I have given you permission to touch my mind when and if necessary, Spock. Hell, you know that. What is going on? Kirk listened as Spock explained the situation, then restlessly began to pace. What could create all this?
There is insufficient data to...
Spock, this is too familiar. I already told you when we were discussing the anomaly...Kirk trailed off and was silent.
The anomaly, Captain? Spock asked. Sensor readings were inconclusive but, he hesitated but determined to improve on his earlier inability to offer an explanation for the disturbing readings continued, I am convinced that a mind of great power touched mine. There is a possibility that the forces, perhaps an intelligence, which govern the vortex have created a gateway to bring us through to their universe. I regret that I do not have conclusive proof for these assumptions, sir.
Are you saying we're in another parallel universe, Spock? Kirk asked, his disquiet only too obvious.
Unknown, Captain. There were however some unusual results on the last sensor scan which, in retrospect, could have been interpreted as a spatiotemporal convergence.
Kirk slid his fingers through his short hair. If you say so, Mr Spock. He shook his head. I can't imagine looking like a figure out of history.
Spock had omitted any detailed description of his own transformation and hoped that his quick-witted friend might forget to ask. I can assure you that my observations are accurate.
Kirk smiled placatingly. Of course they are, Mr Spock. All right, to summarise: we're in a windowless room. Our appearance has been changed and, apart from you, we are sound asleep. Well, you've done the logical thing by reaching my mind. Now will you be able to wake me up?
I will attempt to do so, Jim, however there may be difficulties. You must believe that you will awaken, trust in my leadership, and follow me out of this image of the ship.
A wave of certainty in the Vulcan's abilities poured from Kirk's mind. I'm ready, my friend.
Spock bowed in acknowledgement, warmed by his captain's faith in him. Very well. Let us attempt it.
Cool fingers grasped his arm. I don't want to lose you, Spock, the human explained as Spock raised an eyebrow at the contact. You don't mind, do you?
Jim, it would be illogical 'to mind'. We are in engaged in a mind-meld.
Soft laughter filled the link and Spock could not prevent a slight smile from forming at that infectious sound. His reaction increased Kirk's amusement and it was very difficult to restrain the very unvulcan chuckle which threatened to escape his almost non-existent control. Whilst in such close contact with another - especially one as compatible as his captain - there was little which could be hidden. Strangely, Spock was unconcerned.
The return journey was slow and difficult as Spock struggled to lead Kirk through heavy fog and around dark objects which ominously loomed up to obstruct their passage. Spock did not begin to understand what was causing the obstacles but he dared not waste his energy by attempting a search. As they reached the upper levels, Kirk sagged against him in exhaustion. Spock supported him under the arms but the human's weight had trebled and even Vulcan stamina was taxed.
I can scarcely move, Spock. I'm sorry, Kirk gasped. Sweat poured freely from him as his legs buckled under him.
Spock summoned his remaining energy, and it surged through him in a revitalising wave. He lifted his companion over his shoulder and doggedly aimed for the surface. Kirk grew heavier with each step but Spock continued to fight the agonising pressure until it became intolerable. He slumped to his knees, lost his grip on Kirk's body, and the human slid to the ground.
Jim, we are almost at the journey's end. You must help me.
I'll try. The reply was whispered.
Spock pointed towards a shimmering curtain which lay just ahead. That is the exit from your mind. It is not far, Jim
Kirk lifted his head up. I'll crawl if I have to, but I'm going to get out of this. He faced his friend. I'm sorry to be such a burden, Spock
There is no need to apologise, Jim. We have been placed into an unnatural state of unconsciousness. My Vulcan abilities have enabled me to free myself, therefore logic dictates that it is my duty to assist you.
Hazel eyes sparkled, affection radiated towards him accompanied by a knowing smile. Yes, Mr Spock, logic dictates your every action. The voice was tinged with a teasing lilt.
Indeed, Captain. Spock replied stoically at this latest reminder regarding the transparency of his shields. He ignored the other's inappropriate amusement and gathered his depleted resources for a final attempt at breaking the imprisoning force.
Let me help, Kirk said. Draw on my mind. We have to get out of here.
Spock accepted the offer and combined all their remaining strength on the task ahead until the crippling weight began to ease. They stood up and instinctively remained side by side, Kirk grasping Spock's arm, as they walked towards the beckoning light. As they progressed, the relentless pressure on them to retreat intensified but Kirk's indomitable will continued to reinforce Spock's telepathic energy, and with a final flare of defiance they pushed the alien power's barely yielding presence aside to launch themselves through the curtain.
Kirk cried out as he tumbled into the brilliant whiteness. The pit was never-ending. He was blinded by its glow, deafened by the high-pitched whine assaulting his ears. He was going to die when his body hit the bottom; no-one could survive such a fall!
Spock, his mind screamed in horror. Where could his friend be? They had been in contact during the leap for freedom. He had not been aware of losing his grip on Spock's elbow.
Jim, the familiar voice penetrated his fear. Jim, you are awake now. Open your eyes.
Like a drowning man Kirk latched onto that welcome sound. I can't see anything, Spock. Everything is white. I can't feel anything; it's like sensory deprivation!
I will assist you, Jim. You can hear me, so you must be aware that you are not alone.
I am not alone, Kirk whispered. It was his greatest fear, and Spock knew that well enough. Yes, Spock. I know you're here with me.
Excellent, Jim. Now listen to me and believe. You are lying on the floor of the room I described to you. I am kneeling at your side. My hands are upon your face. You can feel my touch.
Kirk slowed his breathing and concentrated. Gradually he became aware of his body and its senses. The feel of unfamiliar clothes; the crackle of burning logs; the scent of lavender in the air; the bitter taste in his mouth; the comforting warmth of his Vulcan friend's fingers against his skin.
I can, Spock, he said, relief sweeping through him.
Good. The next stage will be simpler now. Open your eyes.
It should have been easy but Kirk was unable to summon any control over his body. He struggled to move, cursing silently when he did not succeed in moving an eyelash. Spock, am I paralysed? he asked, not daring to think of the consequences if that were the case.
There is no physical reason as to why you are unable to move, Jim. It is part of the power which holds us. Can you feel the touch of my hand over your eyes?
Yes, I can, Kirk replied.
Then you will open your eyes, Jim. Open them now.
Kirk drew on all of his resolve and with an effort which caused sweat to break out over his body, forced his eyelids up. He saw darkness at first, but as his eyes became accustomed to the sight they noted shadings and lines which could only belong to the Vulcan's hand. A wave of thankfulness encompassed him.
"Be prepared to see what I have described, Captain," Spock said aloud.
Kirk endeavoured to speak, answering in little more than a whisper. "Okay, Spock. I'm ready."
The light hurt his sensitive eyes and he blinked several times until his vision stabilised. As the pain receded, he looked up and was about to speak but the words froze in his throat as he saw the exotic, long-haired being who leaned over him. "S... Spock!" he stammered in a hoarse choke.
A slanted brow lifted; humour twinkled in the depths of alien eyes. "Perhaps you would care to look in the mirror, Captain."
Kirk swallowed. "Um, yes, maybe I should." He grinned as Spock assisted him to stand and was about to comment on the vision of Vulcan warriorhood that his First Officer had become, when he caught sight of his own outfit. He lifted a hand to scratch his head and gulped at the amount of hair he discovered.
Spock's gaze met his and, with an embarrassed chuckle, Kirk turned away to survey the others. He stood for long moments studying them then glanced around the room. Everything was as described, except Spock. Sly Vulcan omitting his own transformation!
"The mirror is in the alcove," Spock said, indicating the direction.
Kirk shook his head to clear the lingering lethargy. "Are you sure the others are all right?"
"They are asleep, Captain. It is no doubt as unnatural as yours or mine was, but without a tricorder I am unable to determine the cause. I have found no traces of drugs or gas within my own system; that does not necessarily indicate that they were not used. An undetectable, alien substance might have been utilised. I regret my inability to supply you with the necessary answers, sir."
He's still smarting over my ill-mannered behaviour in my cabin. Damn, when will I learn that he's not infallible and can't supply facts from nothing? Look how he brought me out of that nightmare. I constantly expect the impossible from him. He shook his head. "Spock, I appreciate how you helped me. Thank you."
The Vulcan bowed his head. "It is my duty, sir."
"Hell you go beyond the bounds of duty, Spock. I know that, and I'm grateful. This situation is totally baffling but we'll work together to understand it."
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, let me take a look at myself then we'll decide on our next step." Kirk spoke as he made his way to the alcove. "There's a way out of every... " He became silent at the sight of his reflection. After a long, curious inspection, he turned to face his friend. "Is that me?" he asked in an incredulous tone. "I can scarcely believe this! I'm dressed like some hero out of a fantasy novel. You're the image of that famous painting of Strann the warrior. The others are just as bizarrely clothed. Look at Uhura, she's like a fairy-tale princess!"
"It is most disconcerting," Spock remarked.
"Well that's for sure. Okay you've searched this room. I don't expect to find anything you didn't but I want to double check."
"Indeed, Captain. I will employ my time in meditation. Perhaps I will be able to trace another presence in the vicinity."
"Good idea," Kirk encouraged. He watched as the Vulcan prepared himself for the deep trance then began the task of searching the room. Eventually frustrated by his inability to find an exit, he settled down beside his friend and waited.
A shudder ran through the Vulcan. Spock's eyelids fluttered then opened. "I am unable to determine the existence of any other life-form, sir."
Kirk sighed "Well, we'll just have to wait until whoever's holding us decides to appear." He paused to gather his resolve for the request, perhaps order, he was about to voice. "Spock, can you waken the others?"
The Vulcan lowered his head. Kirk sensed the flash of dismay which escaped the normally iron control and felt a touch of shame. To ask Spock to use those telepathic powers was an easy option when he was not the one who had to open himself to the thoughts of others. For the very private being who was his closest friend, it was a traumatic experience.
"If necessary I will attempt it, Captain. However at this moment I am fatigued and unable to call upon the required disciplines. I ask forgiveness for my..."
"Spock, Spock, don't. It is I who should ask forgiveness." Kirk shook his heavy hair back and waited for his friend to look at him. Spock's eyes were filled with uncertainty. "I shouldn't have asked. I know how exhausted you are after the ordeals of waking yourself and me, not to mention the effects of the mind-meld upon your barriers. Sometimes I expect too much of you, Spock. I rely on you heavily."
A slight smile hovered at the edges of the Vulcan's mouth. "I am honoured, Captain."
Kirk grinned. Was there anyone in the galaxy like Spock? He seriously doubted it. Loyal to a fault; the staunchest ally, the most supportive and understanding friend he had ever known in his life. Kirk sighed "Well, we'll just have to wait until whoever's holding us decides to appear."
"Indeed, Captain."
Kirk grimaced. "Well, let's see if there's anything we've discovered about this luxurious prison. Something could have been overlooked."
"Very well, sir, Spock replied.