HDA - Living in Darkness Trilogy - Pt 2 - The Search

The corridor was full of people walking swiftly in both directions. T'Leira, Frank and Joe stood to one side of the sliding door, so that any people who needed to leave could get out.

Suddenly, the blaring siren was shut off but red flashing lights set up high on the metallic walls kept going. Joe glanced at T'Leira. "What's going on?"

"I am not certain. I will return you to Sickbay and endeavor to find out."

"What if we don't want to be returned," said Frank.

T'Leira arched an eyebrow and for the first time, allowed a hint of emotion in her face. "I'm sorry. It's best if you don't wander around, you could get in serious trouble."

"Where are we?" asked Joe.

She glanced back into the now empty Officers' Mess and then out into the corridor where the crowd had thinned considerably. She sighed softly and looked back at the brothers. "Come with me."

"I'd rather not go back to Sickbay," said Frank.

Joe glanced at his brother, not entirely surprised that Frank had turned stubborn. "I'm with him."

"No. Not Sickbay. Someplace different."

Joe scanned the corridor. "Why didn't you race out with everyone else? Because of us?"

"No. I will explain in time." She motioned for them to follow her out of the Officers' Mess. She led them to another moving room and grabbed the handle. "Deck Eight."

Frank's eyes widened. "Decks, Sickbay – this is a ship."

"It is not what you think," said T'Leira, quietly.

"What do you mean?" asked Joe, puzzled as to Frank's guess. There was no rocking sensation that a ship at sea invariably had. He looked at his brother and raised his eyebrows in question.

The moving room stopped going down and slid sideways. It stopped and the door slid open. T'Leira led them down a corridor to a wall that promptly slid apart.

Groups of chairs and sofas were scattered across the large room, making Frank think of a teacher's lounge. But all thought fled from his mind when he saw what T'Leira was pointing at. He walked forward, nearly in a trance, until he could walk no farther.

He placed his hand on the glass and winced at the cold surface. Beyond was a black so intense it seemed to suck the light in. Tiny pinpricks of light – and some larger – glowed red, yellow, blue, orange, white.

Frank heard a gasp and glanced to his right to see Joe staring, open-mouthed. T'Leira stepped forward. "It is not an illusion. It is space."

Joe twisted around to look at her. "As in outer space – as in astronauts – as in Hal 2000?"

T'Leira's lips twitched but she didn't outright smile. "No, Hal 2000 and astronauts are archaic terms these days."

Frank felt a shiver race through him. "Archaic? What do you mean?"

T'Leira squared her shoulders. "It is perhaps unwise to tell you without talking with the captain but...you are in the future – three hundred years in the future."

Joe stared at her and slowly shook his head. "No freaking way. That's impossible. There's all that—" He waved a hand around as if to include everything. He swung around and nudged his brother. "Frank, tell her it's impossible."

Frank stared at the vast black expanse outside the window. "It's so...empty."

"The universe is infinite," said T'Leira softly. "Our finite minds cannot comprehend it in its raw beauty."

"Beauty?" Joe looked out the window. All he saw was black nothing, broken intermittently by the occasional star. There was nothing to see. "That's just emptiness."

T'Leira shifted her gaze from the view to Joe. "It is not emptiness. Nothing is ever empty." She took a deep breath. "I must return you to Sickbay now. I am certain Dr. McCoy is searching for you."

"McCoy?" Frank finally turned from the window. "I thought his name was Bones."

"It is a nickname the captain gave him. They knew each other prior to serving aboard this ship."

Frank spared one last glance for the view and looked at T'Leira. "Time travel is physically impossible."

"From your time, it is. From this time, it isn't."

"Three hundred years," Joe muttered, shaking his head. "No way. Is there even an Earth anymore?"

T'Leira arched that slanted eyebrow again. "Of course."

Frank slid a glance at his brother. "War of the Worlds was just a movie."

Joe shrugged. "Considering all this, you really expect me to ask sensible questions?"

There was a swish as the wall split again and Dr. McCoy burst in. "Damn it, I'm a doctor, not a detective," he muttered and then saw them. "There you two are." He looked at T'Leira and grunted. "I should have known."

T'Leira snorted. "I haven't gotten that far yet."

Frank and Joe shared another puzzled look as McCoy came closer. He gestured to T'Leira. "T’Leira is in the historical sciences, an historian. Getting a hold of you two and chatting would be right up her alley."

"Okay," Joe held up a hand. "Why do you go by T'Leira but everyone calls you Lee?"

McCoy snorted. "Once bitten twice shy."

Frank arched both his eyebrows. "Are we supposed to talk in riddles or something?"

T'Leira shook her head. "Doctor McCoy is referring to the reason I go by T'Leira. I am not entirely human."

Joe narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I am half-Vulcan." She nodded to Joe. "That is the reason my skin seems hot to you. Vulcans prefer to shield their emotions and are often assumed to have no emotions. Those who know I am half-Vulcan assume that I would act Vulcan."

"But you don't?"

McCoy sighed. "She was born on Vulcan but raised on Earth, in Ireland to be exact."

Joe snapped his fingers. "That's the accent I was trying to place. So you're pretending to be one thing, but you're actually another?"

"It is easier to pretend than to endure criticism or ridicule."

McCoy shook his head. "Come along, boys. Time to head back to Sickbay, get you settled. If either of you know anything about medicine, you'd be a big help to me when the time comes."

Frank frowned. "Time comes?"

Suddenly the entire ship tilted, causing anything not bolted down to slide, including the four of them. The ship righted itself but not before it shuddered violently. The lights dimmed and came on at half-power. "And it's come," said McCoy. "Damn it, just one day without Sickbay being flooded with injured crewmembers. That's all I ask." He started for the door, motioning them to come on.

Joe started to ask what was going on, when something like a glowing blob streaked by the window and hit something, causing the ship to shudder again. There was a brilliant flash of white and the ship seemed to drop in a freefall. It tilted again, violently, to the other side and Joe slid, flipped over the back of a chair and slammed his head against the floor.

Frank tried to get to his brother but the ship tilted forward this time and he collided with T'Leira. She grabbed his arms and he felt the heat of her skin through his shirt. This close he could see that the tips of her ears curved into a delicate point. His eyes widened in surprise and then he tried to turn around. "Joe—"

"I'll get him," said McCoy, making his way to where the younger Hardy lay sprawled on the floor. "He's unconscious, pulse strong." McCoy made his way to the nearest wall. "McCoy to Sickbay. I need an A/G stretcher to the Lounge, Deck Eight, stat," he ordered, speaking into a small grid.

"What's going on?" demanded Frank.

"A little dispute, happens all the time." McCoy ran his hands down Joe's arms and legs to check for broken bones or fractures.

"A little dispute? It looks like war," said Frank.

The wall split apart again with that annoying swish and two people in the same outfit as the doctor rushed in with a floating gurney. They helped get Joe up on the gurney and then headed for the door. The woman, a tall blond, looked at McCoy and said, "Several minor injuries, Len, are already in Sickbay. Geoff and Zeke are taking care of them."

McCoy nodded. "Thanks, Christine." He looked at Frank and T'Leira. "Let's go."

***

Sickbay was no longer quiet as people rushed back and forth. Several beds held injured crewmembers, clad either in red or gold. Frank noted the absence of blue and wondered why. Then he saw that the people in blue shirts were busy helping the injured. "Nurses, medics. They wear blue."

Standing beside him, T'Leira nodded. "Yes. Technicians, engineers and security wear red as well as anyone in communications or history. Crewmembers in the sciences wear blue as well. Gold is reserved for ops and command."

Frank watched McCoy wave a small silver thing over his brother. "What's he doing?"

"Scanning for internal injuries." She turned to look directly at him. "Medicine has come far since your time. Bones are mended almost instantaneously. Your brother will be fine."

Something in the way she said it, reminded Frank of Leigh Wolfe. "Are you telepathic?"

T'Leira's green eyes went wide, the first time he'd seen her respond to something. "How did you know?"

"I have a friend. She's telepathic."

"Telepathy is not a common trait in humans."

"Leigh Wolfe and her family are hardly common." Frank leaned forward as he saw his brother's eyes flutter open.

Joe grunted and sat up. He frowned, looked around and shook his head carefully. Finally he spotted Frank. "Okay, I must be dreaming. In dreams you don't get hurt."

"You're not dreaming, son," said McCoy. "Modern medicine is an amazing thing."

"But I at least should have a headache or something. I flipped over that chair and—"

"Do you want one?" asked McCoy.

"Uh, no. No, I'm happy. Hey, Frank, we need a doctor like this back home. No more serious injuries anymore."

Frank rolled his eyes and walked over to his brother. "That would not be a good thing, Joe. You'd try all sorts of stuff and get hurt more than you already do."

Joe snorted. "You make it sound like I rush in where angels fear to tread."

"You do."

McCoy started laughing, softly at first, finally ending in a loud guffaw. "Oh Lord, you need to meet Jim. Or rather he needs to meet you."

"I already did," said Frank. "He came in when I first woke up—"

The doors swished open again and two gold-shirted men looking rather bruised and battered, half-carried another man also in gold. One man, with short black hair and slanted eyes took a deep breath. "Bridge got hit pretty hard," he said breathlessly.

McCoy's smile vanished and he walked over to them. He was muttering under his breath as he helped the injured man to a bed. Frank saw it was the man they were just talking about. McCoy glared at the two men who'd brought Jim in. "Damn it, try to save the universe and what do you get? Injuries and headaches, bureaucratic nincompoops who try to run things from behind a desk..."

The Oriental man leaned against the wall and sighed. "We're here to mediate the dispute, Doctor."

"Mediate, shmediate. Damn it, that doesn't mean that we should be on the receiving end of enemy fire." He snapped his head around to look at the Oriental man and his companion, a younger man with a mop of brown hair. "Sulu, Chekov, go see Christine, let her scan you."

"I'm fine, Doctor," said Sulu. "Mr. Spock is still on the bridge."

"Not surprised there. Is he injured?" McCoy grunted. "Forget it, he wouldn't say one way or another.

"Will the keptain be okay?" asked the other man. Frank was surprised – the man's accent sounded Russian.

"He usually is, Chekov. Looks like he knocked himself unconscious again." McCoy waved the silver thing over Jim. "Hmm, fractured a rib, bruised his thigh. Hmm, did he flip over his chair?"

Chekov's eyes went wide. "How did you know, sair?

McCoy heaved a sigh. "Never mind, Pavel."

Frank heard something hiss again and Jim began to stir. A few minutes later, the man was awake. "Bones, what—?"

"Seems your chair got in your way again."

Jim grunted. "Bones, enough. It's not like I rush in where angels fear to tread all the time."

Frank couldn't help but grin. McCoy rolled his blue eyes. "Right."

Jim sat up slowly and then noticed Joe sitting in another bed. "What happened?"

Joe shrugged. "Chair got in my way too."

Jim looked over at Frank and then his hazel eyes shifted to T'Leira. "Lieutenant T'Leira."

"Captain." T'Leira gave a single nod.

"Until this is all sorted out, you're in charge of them."

Joe slid off the bed, frowning. "We don't need a babysitter—"

"Of course not," smiled Jim. "You do need a guide around here. You could get lost on this ship."

Joe's frown faded slightly. "Oh. Well..."

Jim turned to McCoy. "Let me up."

"I must be certifiable," the doctor muttered but moved back to let Jim get up. He nodded to Joe and Frank, "Boys, this is Captain James Kirk."

Since he was closer, Joe held out a hand. "Joe Hardy. That's my brother, Frank."

Kirk's expression darkened. "Damn, Bones, why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what? I didn't know either."

Frank sighed. "You like to keep things vague, don't you."

"It's best." Kirk tugged on his gold shirt and gave a grudging smile. "I'm sorry but being that you're from the past, it's best you don't know everything."

"We didn't ask to be here. We saw a blue glow and – pow," said Joe, emphasizing the last word by slamming his fist into his other palm. "Lights out."

"Ahem," said Kirk, sliding a look at T'Leira. "Yes, well, that was sort of our fault. Had I known who you were—"

"'Whoa." Frank held up both hands. "How would you know anything about us?"

Kirk cleared his throat again. "Well, that's one of those things we really can't share with you. Might change history. It's a wonder things haven't changed yet." He looked at T'Leira again.

T'Leira nodded. "Of course, Captain, I will check right away." She looked at Joe and Frank. "Perhaps it is best if you come with me." She glanced back at the captain. "Perhaps guest quarters can be arranged?"

"Silly me, of course." Kirk grinned. "VIP quarters."

Joe arched an eyebrow. "Very important persons? Cool."

McCoy sighed. "Go along with you now. Out. I have a Sickbay to run." He wagged a finger at Kirk. "You too."

Joe cocked his head. "Why don't you talk to him the way she does?"

Kirk chuckled. "See even strangers know you're subordinate, Bones."

McCoy shook his head. "I've known this guy for years, long before he made captain. I can talk to him however I want—" He smirked. "Within reason. Now Spock is a whole other kettle of fish."

Kirk laughed outright. "Or a can of worms. Denebian slime worms. I'll tell him you said that," he added, heading for the door.

"Now wait just a cotton-pickin' minute, Jim—" McCoy sighed again as Kirk waved and left Sickbay. "Now I'll never hear the end of it."

"Who is this Spock?" asked Joe.

McCoy rolled his eyes again. "He's half Vulcan like T'Leira."

Frank remembered her ears. He turned to her. "Vulcans look like fairies?"

McCoy snorted. "More like an overgrown leprechaun."

"Elves," said T'Leira, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "I'm quite fond of the Lord of the Rings trilogy."

Joe was puzzled. "If he's like you," he told T'Leira, "he can't be all that bad."

McCoy waved both hands at them to shoo them away. "You haven't met him; now go."

T'Leira led them out of Sickbay. "Come, we will go to the History department."

Joe glanced over his shoulder as the doors swished closed and then looked at T'Leira. "So what? Are we famous or something?"

"It would not be wise to continue this conversation. I cannot tell you things that could alter the past." She walked into another one of those moving rooms. "Come."

Frank studied her for a moment. "But what about all this? We'll remember all this."

T'Leira shook her head. "We can return you a split second before you were taken—"

Suddenly, Joe let out a whoop. It was deafening in the enclosed space and Frank saw T'Leira wince as if her hearing was quite sensitive. Frank shushed his brother. "What's your problem?"

"We've been abducted by aliens, Frank," Joe managed as he laughed. "Boy, we could tell our own X-File story."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Well, your sense of humor has returned.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.