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/First Entry/
Leonard H. McCoy - formerly Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise:
The following entries are made in the hopes it might somehow survive the ice age of this planet and reveal our existence as three aliens from distant worlds who managed to die here, thousands of years before our own births...
I will not repeat the details of exactly how and why we came to be stranded here on the planet – as my companions have already recorded in their own unofficial logs. My desire is to instead show how we have adapted to our change of life/circumstances these past weeks and to record future events as we continue to adjust to our predicament…
At first we feared the sickness and inability to adapt to the change of time periods as Jim was warned that we weren't prepared for – however we soon discovered that Jim seemed to have been prepared by Mr. Atoz sometime during their altercation in the library and his body was properly adjusted. Using his readings from the tricorder and what little medical implements I had with me, I was able to prepare a solution of my own in which to inoculate Spock and myself. Beyond a brief period of weakness in the first few days we have seen no further physical effects.
I only wish our psychological adjustment could be as easily solved. Each of us must deal with the results of our seclusion in this place and time.
Jim seems to have lost the most - his ship and the stars were always so vital to his existence before. He hides the true depth of his sorrow in being denied his ship by focusing on keeping us alive and well. I fear he is taking far too much responsibility for our situation here – for failing to rescue us. I wish I could convince him that it was simply fate and that it does no good to dwell on what might have been.
Spock...he is a far tougher nut to crack. Since my confrontation of him, he has retained better control of his emotional outbursts. He continues to sleep with Zarabeth - Jim and I pretty much ignore that fact, sleeping side by side in the back of the cave on our own furs. This seems to be enough of an outlet of his emotion that he greets us each morning with sufficient control and formality.
Zarabeth is by far the happiest as she now has three companions to break the loneliness of these past years of isolation, though I note that she seems a bit jealous to have to share Spock with others instead of having him all to herself. She has helped us acclimatize ourselves to her lifestyle and has shown us all her tricks in keeping well fed with a steady fire blazing at all times. Someday soon we hope to become as adept as she at living like this.
I'm not sure exactly how long our peaceful coexistence can remain, however. It seems to me that there are unresolved issues and tempers just waiting to explode if our precious balance is upset. I just hope that when the dam does break, we manage to weather the resulting deluge together as we have so many times before on the Enterprise.
/next entry/
A new development - and one that is rather worrisome. Zarabeth is pregnant. I had hoped that the Sarpeidons were not compatible with Vulcans and/or humans, but somehow this odd mixture of Vulcan/Human and Sarpeidon has proved viable. For now, anyway. She progresses fairly well and I curse my lack of sickbay instruments that keep me from better observation and treatment of this pregnancy - my medical tricorder can only do so much.
Jim has confided with me in private that he is worried at the fluctuating emotional control that Spock seems to suffer from lately. An increased protectiveness of Zarabeth has led to a strain in the relations amongst the four of us. Spock allows me to examine her only under his direct supervision and Jim is kept at a distance from her at all times. This has made our life in the cave a bit difficult to manage, but there has been no violent outbursts...yet.
My greatest worry, however, is the birth itself. I am glad for my past medical training in emergency birthing without modern technology, but I know that this birth will likely be even more dangerous than any one of the species the child will be. If it was strictly human or Vulcan or Sarpeidon it would have a better chance of survival, as would Zarabeth. Being a unique hybrid of all three makes this birth a great risk for medical complications. The chances that Zarabeth will make it to full term, the birth going well and the child living past its first breath are far too little and keep me awake at nights staring at the cave walls or the sleeping lump of Jim under the furs beside me.
It would be better that she lost the child now...it would be far more medically sound and would be the best chance to save at least one life – even if it ends another, but I have not dared to suggest it to her underneath the threat of Spock's eyes.
I shall have to, though...it is my responsibility as her physician to give her the choice and the knowledge of the risks of her condition... I will do so tomorrow. Even though Spock will be there as always.
/next entry/
Jim Kirk, writing for Leonard McCoy:
As Bones last entry suggested, he told Zarabeth of the dangers and her option of ending the pregnancy. I was there to witness Spock's sudden and complete loss of control as he struck Bones and attempted to throttle him against the cave wall beside them. I intervened as best I could, though my strength was no match for a crazed Vulcan and it was only Zarabeth's pleas that kept him from breaking Bones' neck in his strong hands. I hope it was also a return of a bit of his own sanity that led him to finally let go of McCoy. Not only a reminder that they were once colleagues and that Vulcans should not brutally murder, but also that without a doctor, Zarabeth's chances of survival would be that much slimmer.
And so now I sit in the back of the cave with Bones and watch him rest as he heals from this foolish endeavor while Zarabeth soothes Spock's fears and temper in the chamber next to us. I can't help but feel angry with Bones for doing this. Reading over his last entry I know that he was well aware of the risks. He knew that Spock would attack him for his suggestion. He knew and he did it anyway. Without consulting me. Am I not still the Captain? He should have told me! What other use do I have if not to help guide us through these times and keep us all alive as best I can?
He did this without telling me and I'm furious at him for it. Furious and scared and full of absurd affection for him at doing it. So typical of him...to care more for others than for his own safety. His need to be the best doctor and caregiver that he can be... His strength and fearlessness in the face of a maddened Vulcan... I love him for it. It is a bizarre feeling to admit to myself. It is not simply love of a friend...if I am honest - it is a love that I have noticed growing and deepening as the days pass. It was there before this mess of a mission...before our forced intimacy and lack of privacy...
Bones is waking now - I should go to him. He will be all right, I think. Just bruised and hoarse until he heals naturally. I will have to take better care of his interactions with Spock from now on. He admitted to me that this isn't the first time Spock has lost his temper with him and physically attacked him - it happened before I crossed over here.
I will not let it happen again.
/next entry/
Leonard McCoy continuing:
It has been nearly a week since my last entry. Jim has been most attentive of my health and my safety. He no longer leaves the cave without either Spock or I with him. He takes great care to keep his physical presence between the two of us during meals and my examinations of Zarabeth. Spock, for his part, seems more subdued and less threatening to me. I'm not sure if it was Jim's doing or Zarabeth's, but someone got through to him, apparently, and he is no longer quite as physically intimidating towards me. He does, however, watch me still with those intent eyes whenever I make a move during the examinations or step closer in Zarabeth's direction during the day-to-day tasks.
Despite this - Zarabeth did manage to confer with me about her own feelings about the pregnancy. She's happy. Very happy. The greatest injustice of her imprisonment here for her has been that she was separated from her family. She hadn't dared dream that she would one day have a child. I'm still uncertain how much of her affection for Spock is simply loneliness and desperate need to cling to him, but I am happy for her in her genuine affection for the child growing in her womb. I will do everything in my power to keep her and her child safe, but I still worry about their futures. And Spock - if he were to lose Zarabeth and the child...I fear for what is left of his sanity.
Despite our strained relationship of late, he is still the same good man beneath his turbulent emotions that he was on the Enterprise. I know that he greatly regrets his reduced restraint and control over his baser self. It is only the chance to love and be accepted by Zarabeth that seems to make him happy and makes me think that perhaps this situation we find ourselves in isn't a complete loss.
I think about our loss a great deal. I've spoken of Jim and Spock dealing with their losses, but only recently realized I haven't mentioned my own feelings. I miss the Enterprise, as we all do, but my greatest regret is that I was unable to say goodbye to my daughter. I was a distant father. I had my reasons at the time, but I now realize the depth of my loss as I look at Zarabeth's growing belly and remember my own excitement and fears for Jocelyn and Joanna in those early days. I wish I could go back and do it all over again, somehow be a better father and husband. But that's a useless wish and so I must put it aside again and dwell on the future.
And speaking of our future...with Spock increasingly wrapped up in Zarabeth and the child, Jim seems to have taken to sticking with me like glue. Besides the overprotective aspect of his attentions, he also seems...well, 'interested'. Which I thought was all in my mind until I read the entry before this. Apparently with a limited amount of companionship available he has decided to turn to the only one not paired down here and has convinced himself that it is love, not lust.
I'm of mixed feelings on this issue. On the one hand, it is damned lonely in that bed of furs in the back - especially hearing the going-ons nearby. On the other hand, I'm feeling a bit like the last pickings in the barrel just now. If Spock weren’t here Jim would have swept her off her feet long ago and she’d be carrying ‘his’ baby right now. And if Zarabeth weren't here, I have a feeling there might be something between Jim and Spock before there would be anything between Jim and I - or even Spock and I. It's a difficult situation we find ourselves in.
I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it.
/next entry/
The pregnancy is beginning to drain on Zarabeth’s strength. I’ve done what I can, but she continues to worsen. Spock’s behavior continues to be extremely protective and isolated from us as he hovers over her all day. Jim and I are worried, but there is little we can do that will not provoke an argument with Spock and neither of us wants to upset Zarabeth in this condition.
/next entry/
It’s done. Zarabeth delivered a healthy baby boy early this morning, but the stress of the birth coupled with the drain the pregnancy had on her body was too much for her and she died within minutes of delivering despite my best efforts.
Spock has yet to react outwardly – as it isn’t practical to bury or burn her body in what limited shelter we have – he decided to carry her out a distance into the ice and snow. Jim went with him and hasn’t returned yet. I am left to care for the child as best I can – he seems robust and likely to survive. His delicate features remind me of Zarabeth, but the eyebrows and ears are definitely Vulcan. He cries unendingly as he seems to sense the horrible catastrophe his birth has wrought. I wish I could comfort him. It wasn’t his fault.
It wasn’t anyone’s.
/next entry/
I have been far too busy of late to record much of our life as I seem to have been thrust with the full responsibility of the babe. Jim holds him occasionally, but seems to think his former occupation exempts him of diapering and feeding. – a notion I will be disabusing him of rather soon.
And yet – I can’t begrudge the effort and time that is consumed with caring for the child – he is sweet and innocent and brings out a rather protective instinct in me. I feel as if he were my own child.
Which brings me to Spock – he has yet to acknowledge the child beyond an occasional glance and his successful endeavor in making a formulaic substance for the child to be fed in place of its mother’s milk. He has changed much in the past few days. Gone is any hint of emotion – the rage and depression that Jim and I had expected and feared are being severely repressed. It is very odd that with Zarabeth’s death he has somehow regained his former control.
Instead of being relieved as I might have been at the beginning of our failed mission – I now am more afraid for him than ever. Jim and I have been unsure of how to crack this steely exterior of his and help him heal.
/next entry/
I am continually amazed at the healing power of hope and love. Jim and I were so worried at Spock’s behavior that we finally resorted in drastic measures to break his Vulcan stoicism and isolation. Leaving the child on our furs, we left the cave together without informing Spock as he busied himself in his makeshift lab in the back of the cavern. I was very nervous at leaving the baby so unprotected and alone, but Jim and I knew that a breakthrough is needed.
As I heard the first cries, it nearly broke my heart, but Jim led me away from the opening of the cave before we could hear Spock’s footsteps. His own shouts were drowned by the howling wind, but I knew he was bellowing for us to come back and tend the child immediately. We waited as long as we dared out in the cold – stamping our boots and rubbing each other’s arms to keep the numbing chill at bay. Finally, when we could wait no more, we crept back towards the cave and found it quiet.
Inside, on Spock’s own furs sat father and son. Spock held the child carefully in his arms as he stared deeply into the infant’s black eyes. Jim and I waited silently until finally we heard the faint chanting in Vulcan. It was a beautiful sound and one that even the baby seemed to understand had great significance. Spock looked up at us as the final words left his lips and he held the baby out for me to take as he spoke softly, “His name is Zarak, son of Spock.”
I wish I could say that Spock’s brief connection and naming of his son helped ease his grief and bring him out of his shell, but he soon returned to his usual routine solitude and avoidance. He did not smile or frown – did not seem particularly interested in his tinkerings in his lab and he barely responded to Jim and I unless directly questioned. It was worrying to say the least, but neither Jim nor I had any better ideas so we continued life as we knew it and hoped for the best. It was during this time that I finally decided to give in to Jim’s invitations to his furs. Loneliness and an increasing awareness of how short and precious life had finally led me to want to grab any bit of happiness I could.
One night, after the baby had fallen asleep, I propped myself up on one elbow and looked over at Jim as we lay in our furs. He’s a handsome man and he knows it well enough. He’s not vain, really, but well acquainted with his charms and the ease at which he wins bedmates. I had never thought to be a target of his charms before. He looked up at me as I stared at him, flashing that boyish grin of his, and I simply had to lean forward and kiss him – I won’t share the details of what happened, but suffice to say it was a very pleasing encounter…very pleasing. What’s important to note is that just as we were drifting to sleep I became aware of a presence watching us in the dark. Spock’s dark eyes glittered at us from across the chamber. Jim was already snoring beside me, but at my gasp of surprise he woke up and asked me what was wrong. By the time I looked back over - Spock was gone.
/next entry/
The last few days have been fraught with an increasing level of tension. Spock seems to be watching our every movement with a level of interest that makes me feel like we are under a microscope. His eyes follow us at our tasks and when Jim touched my shoulder at one point I could feel those Vulcan eyes drilling holes in the back of my neck. I wondered at first if he was jealous of me. As I said before – I always thought there was some unspoken attraction between the two of them in the past.
I was quickly disabused of this notion the next time Jim and I were under our furs. One moment Jim and I were kissing and the next – Jim was ripped off of me and flung across the cave and into darkness. It seems that Spock was jealous of Jim…not I. His hands were hot and rough as they groped me…he tried to meld with me, but Jim hit him from behind and knocked him off of me. I worried at first that Spock was seriously injured, but he shook off the blow and seemed to come to his senses quickly enough and backed away to his own bed. Zarak woke during the ruckus and screamed his head off for over an hour before I could calm him back to sleep.
That was three days ago – there have been no further incidents, but he continues to watch us and I fear it is only a matter of time before he loses control once more.
I don’t understand why he has chosen me and not Jim. Perhaps it is my proximity to the child. By being the primary caregiver to Zarak, Spock has assigned me the - I will ‘not’ say woman’s role…but rather a maternal role and therefore submissive one. Which I suppose means he sees me as, dare I say it, a suitable mate.
Damn, I wish I could speak to him as I used to. It’s so difficult to think of him in the terms of a primitive man rather than the civilized scientist I’ve known these past few years. His intellect is still there…I see glimpses of it, but his focus and control are deteriorating. I worry for Jim’s safety if Spock truly sees him as a challenger. I remember all to well what happened with Spock’s Pon Farr. I will not allow Jim to put himself in harm’s way again.
For now my next course of action will be to get Jim to finally take over some of the feeding and diapering duties around here. High time he discovered his own maternal side.
/next and final entry - epilogue/
It’s been a few years since I last wrote in this journal. Not only have I been extremely busy, but I’ve also wondered if it is a good idea to leave this record behind. At one time I had some hope that the record would be found amongst those of Jim and Spock someday by a Sarpeidon archeologist…perhaps such an odd record by three alien beings perishing in their distant past would find its way to the great library and into Mr. Atoz’s hands.
But the things I’ve recorded…and those I still have to record would not make much of a dignified tale for the end of three Starfleet officers. Not that I worry much about what is Starfleet approved behavior anymore. Rather difficult to justify living in a three-way relationship with my former captain and a feral Vulcan while caring for said Vulcan’s bastard son.
It’s an odd life – and not one I envisioned for myself years ago when I became a doctor or joined Starfleet. But it’s one I’ve come to enjoy and take comfort from…I cannot imagine a life in which I did not care for Zarak or love Jim and Spock the way I do now. We’ve come to an arrangement, the three of us. Spock’s passionate nature remains unchanged, but he is no longer violent or jealous. We’ve found equilibrium amongst the three of us. We’re happy in our own way. We share the same furs, the same duties, and the same affection and pride in Zarak’s progress.
He will be a fine man someday…I only regret we cannot give him all that much of a future. He will never know a ship such as the one Jim tells him of every night at bedtime. I can teach him what I know of medicine, but he’ll never apply it to a patient other than the three of us… Spock teaches him Science and Vulcan culture…but he’ll never know the man his father once was. And Zarak will never know his mother…or any other inhabitant of this planet. He’ll never marry and have children…never know love other than the love we have for him as our son. I hate that he’ll never have a normal life…but we’ll give him what we can.
I must avoid dwelling on what cannot be, and be grateful for what we have – each other.
Perhaps I will leave this record unchanged.
END