Chapter 8
I sat up, full awake. Loxy sat up with me, feeling an urgency. “You okay?”
I placed a hand on her knee, still sorting the dream. The fact that Lester had been in the dream was interesting, as he was one of the characters from Safe Haven. I didn’t recognize him in the dream, but I did now. I still couldn’t place Mark. O’Connor, well, he is who you think he is. Not from Terminator Four. I rejected that, as it didn’t make sense given what we know from the first movie, and I was surprised Cameron signed off on four. Doesn’t he own it? He is usually pretty good at making things believable and consistent. Take Aliens for example. That was awesome. Not bringing him back for the third move was a fatal mistake for the franchise.
“You were there,” I said.
“I was?” Loxy asked.
I imagined a pulse of green energy leaving my heart, proceeding to hers. She accepted and closed her eyes while she processed the information. There were other ways for her to be brought up to speed, but we liked sharing our hearts in this manner. She could also go to my inner library and read, or download through crystal sets. We had multiple metaphors for exchanging information.
“Wow, that was fun,” Loxy said.
“How is that fun? We’re discussing the end of the world,” I pointed out.
“Or the beginning,” Loxy said.
“You saw a beginning there?” I asked.
“You don’t see the tie-in to the Matrix?” Loxy asked. “Nuclear winter, no solar power, Skynet needs energy, she makes batteries out of humans, and now you have a crossover. It’s very doable!”
“Why can’t there be a Star Trek crossover?” I asked.
“Why can’t we have both?” Loxy asked.
“I wish I could be beamed up,” I said.
Loxy reached under her pillow and pulled out a piece of jewelry. It was a Star Trek Insignia badge. She handed it to me. It felt real, solid. It had some weight to it. I wanted to bite on it to see if it were real gold, as if I could tell by biting on it. My luck, I would chip a tooth.
“I was thinking of saving it for your birthday, but maybe now is the time,” Loxy said.
I stared at the badge. I was on the verge of an emotional reaction, but was suppressing. I didn’t want to believe, I couldn’t allow myself to have this much hope. I started doing internal diagnosis to look for clues to see if I were dreaming. Blinking didn’t make anything change. The next step was to operate tech. If you threw a light switch on, and nothing happened, there was a good chance you were dreaming. Or the power had gone off.
“Am I still dreaming?” I echoed my own inner workings.
“Does it matter?” Loxy asked.
Tears dropped. “I am afraid.”
“Wow. I didn’t see you hesitating,” Loxy said. “I thought you would dive right in.”
Loxy stood up in bed, invited me to stand up. This did not feel like a dream, but I had to wonder. This wasn’t going to work unless I was dreaming, right? It was dark outside. The street lamp shone in through the trees and the blind, way too bright, but still a street lamp. I held my hand out, palm up, the treasure in my hand more valuable than any mint coin you might imagine. Loxy was dressed in her negligee and I was wearing boxers and t-shirt. There was no way this was going to work.
“Where did you get it?” I asked.
“It came in the mail,” Loxy said, clearly playfully sarcastic. “Where did you think I got it?”
“Uhura’s been here?” I asked.
“No, but this showed up, so I choose to believe it’s from here,” Loxy said. “Shall we do it together?”
“Okay,” I said.
Loxy tapped the badge. “Enterprise, two to beam up.”
I really had high hopes, but wasn’t surprised when nothing happen. Loxy seemed to still be waiting and I was going to draw her into a hug and comfort her when lightning struck. Actually, it wasn’t lightening, but that’s how fast the change occurred. This was not the fun transporter sequence I grew up watching on Trek. This was something else and it was faster than blinking, and I imagined a trail dissipating over my bed, and I was pretty sure I could smell ozone. And I would been surprised had there not been a sonic boom that broke every window in the house.
“Welcome aboard, Captain. Commander.”
I turned to face Uhura. This was Uhura, but not from the 60’s and not from the reboot movies starting in 2008; this was no one else but the Uhura, as if she were a real person, never to be confused with the actresses that played her. She was young, but she had the wisdom of all the ages of her. This was the Enterprise, but not the original, not the remake for the movies which I am not fond of, and not the TNG version, but this Enterprise aired in a TNG episode. We were on board the USS Enterprise C, an Ambassador Class starship. I knew it like I know my own home. All the light became brighter, blurred with tears, and then the world went sideways.
Shortly after feinting, I was revived in Sickbay, still on the Enterprise. Uhura was there, sitting at a table. She looked up when the numbers on my bio-signatures changed. She got up and approached, smiling down at me.
“Welcome back,” Uhura said.
I didn’t know what to say. Again, I was overwhelmed by emotions.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“Somewhere, over the rainbow,” Uhura offered.
“I fainted?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. First transports can result in fainting, mostly from excitement, but sometimes from being overwhelmed by emotions,” Uhura said.
I sat up and she took my arm. I motioned I was okay and slipped off the bed. I landed on my feet without falling. The floor felt real. The bed I was leaning back on felt real. There was an ambient smell, almost like lavender. The soft, ambient lighting in sickbay was merging on the blue and indigo side of the spectrum. There were other colors, some splashes of reds, and the yellows, there was the white and blue of the medical readouts and assortment of lit controls, and equipment one might actually see on an episode. I wanted to cry again.
“You okay, sir?”
“You don’t know how long I have wanted to be here,” I said.
“I have an idea,” Uhura said.
“I don’t think you do,” I said.
“John, you know what an Astral Temple is. You’ve been to several, studied esoteric knowledge directly with masters. You have studied music with masters and participated in ensembles with fellow students of the craft,” Uhura said. “This place is no different than that, only instead of a Temple, it’s a Starship. Instead of souls traveling to it to learn what they need to learn, we go to the students. We are going to spread peace, love, and music throughout the Universe.”
“That’s our mission?” I asked.
“That’s my mission,” Uhura said. She touched my arm gently. “John. May I call you John? John. This is not anything like you ever imagined. This Enterprise is not the Enterprise you grew up watching. In many ways, the ship is just as much a tulpa as Loxy was a tulpa. But don’t think for a moment you created the tulpa Enterprise. This ship is a collaborative effort, in which you are just one participant. That’s why it has solidity. That’s why it’s on the physical plane.”
I am not sure I was really listening. I was taking everything in, and trying to suppress my joy so I didn’t over excite myself and pass out and or wake up. I was more afraid of waking up. One of the most effective tools for me to increase the odds of lucidity in a dream was to ask myself if I was dreaming whenever I encounters someone attractive. It worked so well for me, I modified the trigger to include any female. So, when it seems like I am mentally struggling due to being ‘star struck’ around a woman, part of it is I am doing reality checks to determine if I am dreaming. That said, I was singing reality checks in my head, and taking in my Uhura without being so obvious. You don’t know how much effort it was to meet and hold Uhura eyes. Though her dress wasn’t exactly TOS, it was close enough to be a variation of 60’s go-go style meets modern. I wanted desperately to hug her but I thought it was inappropriate to even ask. Unlike The vision of Trek I knew, her primary color was gold, as she was in the command track, but her skill track was blue, as blue covered medical and communications. I am sure blue was connected to the throat chakra.
“I am really here,” I said. “You’re here.”
“You did invite me, Sir,” Uhura said.
“I did, but I, well,” I began.
“Yes, I have been known to make an entrance,” Uhura smiled.
“I don’t know how to process this,” I admitted. “I mean, Jung, Tesla, Sacagawea, even Chan, I can explain them as echoes of spirit, if not actual spirit, but you. You’re Uhura!” I hear you, you’re saying, John, way to ignore what she’s saying about the ship. You’re missing the point. You’re missing something important. But when everything is important, how do you track everything while being human?
“I am,” Uhura said. “Captain Nyota Uhura, in charge of communications, not Nichelle, not Zoe, but I exist because of them, because of you, because of everyone who is ever touched Uhura with thought and heart. I exist the way Loxy exists, only I have the harmonic resonance pressured stability of the collective unconscious that has made me manifest. A part of me has been with you since your first episode of Trek. I was the poster on your wall, transitioned from childhood fantasy through adolescent fantasies to adulthood fantasies. I have been with you as far back as I can remember, and I wish to continue to serve, in this new capacity.”
“On the ship?” I asked.
“On the ship, on earth, or on any other planet we chose to visit together,” Uhura said.
I was struggling.
“Talk to me, John,” Uhura invited.
“I am feeling so many things I don’t know what to say. I am angry, for starters,” I said.
“Oh,” Uhura said. That surprised her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You say you have known me all my life, why didn’t you beam me up sooner!” I asked.
“That does sound angry,” Uhura said.
“Sounds?” I asked.
Uhura took my hand and led me into the chief medical offers office, as if we needed even more privacy than empty Sickbay. She had me sit in a chair and she sat in the other, rolling it closer to me. Our knees touched. She held my hands, very loving and affectionate, but not sensual. “Breathe, John. Search your heart. You know why,” Uhura said.
“I want to hear you say it,” I said.
“You want to hear me say you weren’t ready?” Uhura said.
OMG, I nearly lost it. If she hadn’t been holding my hands, they would have been shaking. It occurred to me, I hadn’t touched this level of sadness and anger in a while, and now I was angry because I was revisiting things from the past that I thought for sure were completely squared and in their proper boxes, but here they came vomiting out from a long extinct volcano. I wanted to rage about how unfair my childhood was, and how bad the players were, and I had already practiced letting go and forgiving, and here it was again.
Uhura transmitted kindness without speaking, drawing my eyes back to her eyes. “Can you tell me what words I used that triggered this level of intensity?”
“Are you a counselor?” I asked.
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Not so much, but you can’t be a communication officer without having learned to listen. You can’t be receptive to love, to poetry, to music, without having learned to listen. I hear things, John, and when I speak or sing, I provoke things. It’s my nature. You know this. You share this nature with me.”
“You basically said you’ve been with me all my life, and I want to know why the hell you didn’t beam me out of my life sooner,” I said. “And don’t go all Glenda on me and say I needed the journey or I wasn’t ready.”
“So, you want an answer, and you don’t,” Uhura said.
“Do you know, I was told not to have a black girlfriend,” I said. “My family thought I was gay, but they more worried I would bring home a black girlfriend than being gay. How bizarre is that?”
“You and I were born in a really strange time,” Uhura said.
“Why now?” I asked.
“Why not now?” Uhura said.
“Something has had to have changed for me to access this now,” I said.
“You experience a great many changes. You love more. You’re more open. You listen more, rant less,” Uhura said. “Or, maybe it takes a moment to build and commission a Starship. It takes the moment to grow the heart of a star. You don’t just pluck an existing star out of the Universe and drop it into a starship. I mean, you can, but it’s better to grow your own, because then you know what the ingredients are, and what they transform into. And if you don’t interrupt me soon, I will be indulging in a little 5th Dimension.”
“I hear your words, but I don’t have a clue what you’re telling me,” I said.
“Then let me sing it to you. Let the sunshine in. Let, the sunshine in, the sun shine on in,” Uhura said.
“Harmony and understanding,” I sang, in melody to her chorus of let the sunshine in. You probably know the words, and I don’t have to indulge, but if you know the line ‘mystic crystal revelations’ I think dilithium crystals, which connects this song and me to Star Trek in a profound way, but it isn’t in isolation. Follow that song up with “Ride, Captain Ride,” upon your mystery ship. The 73 men is symbol for the number keys on Rhodes Model No. 73 piano, on which the song in question originates, spontaneously, out of a moment of necessity. I could spend the rest of a chapter just singing songs that link me back to Trek.
“OMG, John. That was beautiful. This moment is beautiful,” Uhura said. “We are going to have so many more moments like this. But right now, you’re in flux. You’re going to try and unravel it all, to dispel it, understand it, and I would like to recommend you go with the flow,” Uhura said. “Your brain simply isn’t going to be able to wrap itself around this and embrace it. It wants it, desperately, but it can’t unlock it in isolation. That is where your heart comes in. Whether you call this moment astral traveling, or space travel, or lucid dreaming, what you’re doing is essentially the same. It doesn’t matter if it’s your dimension of origin or a parallel. This is here, you’re here, and you have a role to play. It’s essential for your growth, as well as the growth of others. This is what I believe. This is what helps sustains me. I could be completely wrong, but may of the others, they share this philosophy with me.”
“Others?” I asked.
“The crew,” Uhura said.
I looked about, through the transparent walls of the office were in back out into Sickbay, and there seemed to be no one else. I felt like I was alone with Uhura.
Uhura squeezed my arm reassuringly. “The Brains are still recruiting for some of the positions, but knowing them, they’ll probably back fill personnel with people from Cosplay conventions,” she said, playfully, musically. Her entire being communicated music.
“So, this is a real place? A real ship?” I asked, yes, again. “On the physical plane or the astral plane?”
Uhura shrugged. “It feels like a real ship to me, Captain. But does it matter?” She laughed, and had to break down the joke, physical plane, matter. “Sorry, Captain. If I might borrow from Kosner, ‘if you build it, they will come,’ and, well, someone built it, and here we are.”
“You keep calling me Captain,” I asked.
“Would you prefer Kirk, Picard, or Garcia,” Uhura said.
“Oh, god, no. I mean, I would like to meet them, but, if someone’s going to give me a Starship, I am so going to travel,” I said.
“Good for you. Cause you’ve learned all you can from the past captains. It’s time you exercised your own wings. You understand, this is a big deal. You weren’t chosen for command by rolling D&D dice,” Uhura said. “You will have mission objectives. There will be external and internal conflicts. People might die.”
“In real life?” I asked.
“Is there any other kind of life? If someone dies here, they’re dead. They don’t come back,” Uhura said.
“Spock came back,” I pointed out.
“An exception,” Uhura said.
“All the main characters came back from death. Even you,” I pointed out.
“Technically, I didn’t die. I had my mind erased and they had to re-educate me, but that premise wasn’t well written. I really didn’t care for it, did you?” Uhura asked.
“Yeah, it kind of irritated me. I would have preferred that they had taken an fMRI snapshot of your brain sometimes in your past and they just put everything back the way it was prior to the brain wipe, or used a transporter backup clone. That would have made more sense,” I said.
“Exactly!” Uhura asked. “So, if you think you’re ready, how about that tour?”
“That would be lovely,” I said.
Uhura stood up and it was only now I realized I was only wearing boxers and t-shirt.
“I should probably change first,” I said.
“If you like,” Uhura said. “We are advanced enough socially not to be too perturbed by extreme casual. You could even go naked and no one is likely to say anything.”
“I would be uncomfortable walking the corridors naked,” I said.
“So, allow me to show you how to use the replicator to make a uniform,” Uhura said.
“I don’t think I will look good in a Uniform,” I said, but I would definitely be better in uniform than in boxers and t-shirt.
“Allow me to help you change your mind,” Uhura said, and without leaving the office we were in, she demonstrated how to use a replicator to get clothing. The console actually scanned me, from head to toe, and made clothing so perfectly attuned to my body that it felt like I wasn’t wearing anything. This was not just fashion! This was another way to express love.
As we came off the lift, the deck watch announced our arrival.
“Captain on the Bridge,” he said.
I looked for the Captain and realized, oh, he meant me. Loxy stood, saluted. She was dressed in a uniform, similar to Uhura’s that was primarily gold, which clearly she was in a command position. She had the bare minimum of all the other color bars, but yellow was maxed out, indicated by the end flare. I am not sure what the yellow meant, but told myself to ask her later. She had been sitting in the command chair until I arrived.
“You’re the First Officer?” I asked.
“Unless you wish to change that, Sir,” Loxy said. Her ‘Sir’ was more playful than professional. She indicated the Captain’s pips on her shoulder by scratching at them casually.
“I see that,” I said. And why not. If the powers that be were making me a Captain, why couldn’t the XO also be a Captain? The CO and XO were usually both captain, though sometimes the CO was an Admiral.
A Yeoman approached, requiring an electronic signature. I puzzled over the document, which I am pretty sure was just a work order log, but later realized it was much more substantial than that. I would later discovered I had just signed a contract and confirmation that I had taken command of the ship. One should always read what they sign, but I come from a world so litigious that signing documents just to accomplish a simple task like, dispensing an antibiotic, requires a dozen pages of caveats and defining of nomenclature. Informed consent is such a pain in the ass that I don’t think anyone actually reads any more. But I think the main reason I wasn’t attending fully to the documents was because I was rather struck by the youth and beauty of the yeoman. I bit my lower lip, lingering a bit too long on cleavage. She tapped on the tablet where she needed me to sign, causing me to focus, and invited me to use my finger or the stylus. I hurriedly signed and managed to meet her eyes, and she seemed satisfied.
Part of me thought I should be embarrassed being schooled in how to use a simple electronic document, but I went straight for ‘trite:’ “Have we met before?” I asked.
“I don’t think so, Sir,” she said, tucking the device under arm and offering me her hand. “I am Kazue Watanabe. I have been assigned to you.”
“Japanese?” I asked.
“Mixed. Korean. My father is Japanese,” she said.
Loxy coughed, indicating I should move this along. I am sure I blushed, but I didn’t turn away from Watanabe.
“Sir, we just arrived here, and you’re already flirting with your staff?” Loxy asked.
“It’s okay, Sir,” Watanabe said. “Don’t let her pick on you, too much.” She tapped on the PADD, and showed me another document. “Your itinerary for today is clear, but I will alert you of any changes. At your convenience, you do need to report in for a medical evaluation and a psychological evaluation. It’s SOP kinds of stuff.” She was in uniform, and gray was primary and there were no additional lines of color, and no indication of rank. I would say she was in her late teens, early twenty, with unreal eyes, clearly special contacts. I got the sense that her skin was lighter due to some sort of medical treatment. Did you know, many Asian kids these days bleach their skin? I wasn’t sure I liked the idea that this young lady was modifying her appearance, but which culture hasn’t every practiced some form of body modification? I could easily imagine her selling cars as a raceway queen, or being the primary singer in an all-girl Korean band. “Just ring me up if you have need of anything.”
The anything sounded like an invitation for anything, but I am sure I just heard that and no one else heard it that way. I watched as Watanabe walked away from me, certain I knew her from somewhere. The swing in her stride was exaggerated as if she knew I was watching. Once in the lift she turned, faced me, and gave a knowing smile, and a quick wiggle of eyebrows. The door shut. I found Loxy beside me
“Try not to do that too much here,” Loxy said, whispering, straightening my second collar. I was wearing an undershirt with a turtleneck, and the primary shirt over that.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Staring,” Loxy said.
“This all feels so real,” I said.
“It’s real. It’s realer than real,” Loxy said. “I am real and it’s a bit freaky, and people tend to get upset when we get out of character.”
“Upset?” I asked. “Upset how?”
“I can’t explain it, yet,” Loxy said. “Just, try to stay in character.”
“Staring at females is being in character,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, I know, just, tone it a down a bit till people get to know you,” Loxy said.
The original Enterprise C’s Bridge, at least on the show, wasn’t too dissimilar from the Enterprise B in the movies. This ship, my ship? was vastly different. It was darker, which made the terminal and ambient lighting more noticeable, like being in an air traffic control room. The helm was in a depression, and so one could walk a circle around the Bridge and look down at the helm. The helm was broad, consisting of two stations, helm and tactical, and the outer edge of the console conformed to the rail that followed the circle of the pit. The Captain’s chair was fixed at the top level, in line with the helm, with stairs proceeding down either side of it, which gave the Captain not only a superior view of the helm, but visible line of sight to all the stations around the Bridge. Where the rails ended near the Captain chair, there was a station on either side, seamless with the railing, and those stations required crew to stand. Also, in the depression, to the left or right and forward of the command chair, but behind the helm were two stations. One was Ops and the other was the Engineering station. Directly behind the command chair was communications, with stations to the left and right of that. The science station was between the 9 and 10 O’clock position, and had a wide array of controls and monitor options, and a door that led to the Captain’s Ready Room near the 8 O’clock position. There were 3 stations on the right side, with the 3 O’clock station the equivalent of an air traffic control that monitored and tracked everything within the sphere of influence around the ship, coordinating with tactical or communications when needed. The lift doors off set from the bridge, with a head/lavatory directly left and right of each lift. Just in case you were wondering, people still have to ‘go’ in space.
“Um, Number One,” I said. “I am going to want to see a full crew roster when that becomes available. If you don’t mind, Uhura, I would like to continue my tour on my own.”
“Of course, Captain,” Uhura said. “If you need anything, just ask the computer, or anyone of the crew. Everyone on board is up to speed.”
I headed towards the second lift, not the one I arrived on, but the one that Watanabe had departed on.
“By the way, John,” Loxy interrupted my departure. “You look nice in Uniform.”
“Now who’s flirting?” I asked, stepping backwards into the lift. An Officer was emerging from the head. “You have the Bridge, number One.”
And the doors shut. I grabbed hold of the lift and forced myself to breathe. “Um, Deck one.” I said. The turbo lift proceeded down. As soon as it was on its way I executed a ‘Flash Gordon’ “YEAH” jump. I landed, resumed my normal, everyday posture, pulling down on the outer shirt, not taking into account that there was probably a camera somewhere in the lift that had recorded my leap of joy. If anyone saw me, no one ever called me out on it. Part of my brain wanted to follow Watanabe. I figured I could just call her up and pursue ‘anything.’ I didn’t do that.
I was suddenly very aware of just how randy I was. When people feel good mentally, there is an increase in libido. When people exercise and get physically healthy, there is an increase in libido. When people feel good emotionally, there is an increase in libido. When people are spiritually in tune with themselves and others, there is an increase in libido. When people win the lottery, there is an ‘OMG’ sudden increase in libido. I was physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually ecstatic, and I had OMG won the lottery! The fact that I had this urgency and no way to immediately dissipate it only increased my belief that this place was realer than real.
I exited the lift and someone waiting for the lift step aside so I might exit. I didn’t recognize her, and I didn’t recognize the color scheme. She was wearing a uniform similar to all the other female crew members, except, her highlights were green. I put my hand in the lift, causing the doors to reopen. The doors move so fast here, that it was only in hindsight I wondered about whether sticking my hand in the door’s arc was wise. But I was emboldened by libido and my curiosity to understand the green of her uniform. And it wasn’t just her level of attractiveness that was drawing me in. There was something else odd about her, that I couldn’t quite place, but I certainly admit that her physical charm had the greater staying power and if I wasn’t so particularly bothered, I might have just allowed her to pass.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Yes, Captain?” she asked. Her level of attention to me was in itself a distraction. She looked at me as if I were a celebrity. She gave me the same kind of hope a Hooter’s waitress does every time she checks in with me as she does her rounds. OMG, this was going to be a hard five year mission.
I blinked, pushing through my reality checks. The intensity of my thoughts didn’t change the direction of this scene. She wasn’t suddenly naked or attacking me with an equal amount of passion. This was real.
“May I ask your name?” I asked, thinking I should at least be civil before addressing the question that caused me to stop her.
“Lt. Janelle Phillips,” she responded. Her mannerisms struck me as odd. She was clearly polite and smiling, but it was off.
“Were you home schooled?” I asked.
“How did you know?” Phillips asked.
Oh, well, that fully explained my spider sense. I was thinking homeschool or Autism Spectrum. People who were homeschooled and had limited social interaction presented themselves differently. Not bad, just, different. They held themselves differently, their movement was less fluid, awkward, like they never learned to be completely in their body. She gave me a curious look, expecting.
“I notice things,” I said. I wanted to ask about her life, but decided to keep it professional. Technically, even asking her a professional question was not a good excuse to be engaging her, because it showed ignorance on my part, and though she probably didn’t take up on the fact that I was interested in her, anyone else watching this scene would realize the power difference was huge. She may have been an adult, but I imagined I could have bowled her over and overwhelmed her with passion and it would have taken us somewhere that wasn’t here or where we needed to go. “You’re wearing green?”
“We’ve expanded the color schemes to reflect more disciplines,” Phillips said. “Green denotes life sciences.” She then confirmed the overarching color schemes that I had been piecing together. The primary colors that highlighted sleeves indicated career tracks, while the colors over the left chest indicated skills and cross training.
“Oh,” I said. “That’s interesting.”
“I agree! It always wanted more colors when I watched TOS,” P