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(Our universe. The observation deck of the Enterprise. Two figures, silhouetted against a field of stars.
They are close, but they do not touch.
A breath.)
SPOCK: Captain, may I ask…?
KIRK: Anything.
SPOCK: My counterpart. (Pause.) Did he resemble me?
KIRK: In some ways he did.
SPOCK: But he was a product of his universe. He was violent. Brutal.
(Kirk remembers coarse sand sticking to his skin – Vulcan, the kal-i-fee.)
KIRK: In some ways, Mr. Spock, so are you.
SPOCK: I am also a product of my universe – and my homeworld. From Vulcan, I learned restraint. Control. I cannot speculate as to what the other Spock might have learned from his other Vulcan.
KIRK: Logic, certainly. Logic of a kind.
SPOCK: Perhaps logic better than mine.
(Spock looks at Kirk. A breath.)
KIRK: What do you mean by that?
SPOCK: I have been considering the myth of Tantalus.
KIRK: Because I told you about that device – the Tantalus machine.
SPOCK: Do you know the story?
KIRK: Yes. A man was punished by the gods for forgetting his place, thinking he could eat at their table. He was condemned to the underworld, where he stood in a pool of water beneath a grove of fruit trees. Whenever he bent his head to drink, the pool would vanish. Whenever he raised his hand to pick an apple, the wind would come and blow the branches just out of his reach.
I wonder if that other Kirk realized – he was like Tantalus in his quest for power. The more he reached for it, the more unattainable it would become.
SPOCK: I do not doubt that he matched you in perceptiveness, Captain, although he did not make the best impression when he arrived in our universe.
KIRK: I guess I don’t have to worry about you preferring him over me.
SPOCK: No, Captain.
(A breath. Spock turns to face the stars.
So does Kirk.)
KIRK: Why, then? Why should he keep fighting for power he knows he can’t sustain? And at what cost?
SPOCK: Consider that Tantalus, if he never bent his head to drink, would never know if the water would vanish or not.
(A breath, and another – faster than before.)
Consider uncertainty to be another kind of torment. Another underworld. A man stands in a pool of water, stands beneath an apple tree, and never bends his head or reaches out his hand, afraid to learn that what he sees around him is not permanent.
Restraint – hesitation – in such circumstances is illogical.
KIRK: Tantalus couldn’t accept his circumstances. First, he thought he was fit to dine among the gods. Then, he couldn’t accept that the water and the trees would always be out of his reach. He kept reaching, over and over.
Isn’t that illogical?
SPOCK: No.
But never to reach at all… if a man has no reason to doubt the pool of water, why should he be afraid to drink?
(A breath.
A breath.
A breath.)
KIRK: Spock.
SPOCK: When I met the other Kirk, I met a fearful man. A man whose spirit had been ravaged by pain and misfortune beyond our ability to know. A man broken by the absence of…
KIRK: Love. The absence of love. I saw it, too, Spock. There’s no room for love in an empire ruled by fear.
SPOCK: Jim. That is not our world. And still, I’ve been afraid. That is not logical.
KIRK: Spock…
SPOCK: I stand in a pool of water. I believe the water to be real. I am thirsty. And still, I do not drink.
(Kirk reaches for Spock – His arm? His wrist? His hand?
– and Spock steps away.
A breath.
A breath.
A breath.
Kirk crosses to the beverage replicator – a panel and an open compartment in the wall.)
KIRK: If you wanted a glass of water, Mr. Spock, all you had to do is ask.
(He touches the replicator panel, entering a sequence.
He waits.
Particles of light fill the compartment and solidify into the shape of a cylinder. The light dissipates and leaves a cup full of water.
Kirk extends his hand towards Spock.
Eventually, Spock steps forward and takes the cup from him.)
SPOCK: Thank you, Jim.
(He does not drink.)
KIRK: You know, Spock, I’m not so different from that other Jim after all.
I won’t stop reaching.
I know that one of these days, that old wind will get tired, and it won’t blow the branches out of my reach anymore.
And if I ever did get my hands on that tree, I wouldn’t let go for anything.
I thought you were thirsty.
(Spock looks at the cup of water.
He looks at Kirk.
A breath.
An exhale.)
KIRK: Don’t worry about it, Spock. We’re not meant to be logical creatures.
SPOCK: The appropriate human expression is, I believe, “speak for yourself,” Captain.
(Kirk smiles.)
KIRK: So.
Have you ever thought about growing a beard, Mr. Spock?
SPOCK: I do not believe there is any evidence to that effect, no, sir.
KIRK: No evidence – Spock, you didn’t.
SPOCK: However, I may be mistaken.
KIRK: And what should I do if, uh, you are mistaken, and I should happen to come across some of that evidence which you do not believe exists?
SPOCK: I trust that you will keep it to yourself.
KIRK: Well, all right, then. Yes, sir.
(A breath.)
SPOCK: Captain. Do you require any assistance completing the necessary reports to inform Starfleet Command of this most recent incident?
KIRK: Why, no, Mr. Spock, I don’t require any assistance filling out the reports. In fact, they’re already done.
How about a game of chess instead?
SPOCK: A welcome diversion.
KIRK: I thought so, too. Meet me in the rec room in thirty.
SPOCK: Yes, sir.
KIRK: Spock.
SPOCK: Jim.
KIRK: Thank you.
(A breath.
A breath.
A breath.
Exit Kirk.
A deep, deep breath.
Spock looks down at the cup of water.
He raises it to his lips,
closes his eyes,
and breathes in.)