'Tis Charity to Show Chapter IV Part 2

‘Tis Charity to Show

Chapter IV

Part 2

The intensity of the turquoise sky made it appear touchable with its even, unwavering shade. The blazing white sun that hovered high up seemed almost embedded against the heavens.  The sheer magnificence of the horizon made it very difficult for Rand to tear her attention away from it and back to the reason why she was outside in the first place. 

The landing party had been split into three pairs, and Rand was paired with Mr. Spock.  The two of them were conducting their part of the search at the outermost tip of the site on the west side, while the others searched on the outermost tip of the east and the south.  The idea was to work from the outer rim of the grounds and eventually conclude the search at the very center of the site, where the excavations had taken place.  Because of the piecemeal method being used, the search would take a few days to be conducted, giving the landing party plenty of time for a more thorough investigation. 

Spock, with his tricorder in hand, walked around the area gingerly while watching the readings on the monitor screen.  Nothing.  Rand wasn’t having much luck herself, as the pencil-thin rod that rotated, stretched, dipped, and retreated from behind her monitor failed to show anything on her screen.  No body heat, not even readings of corporal remains were picked up.

Rand turned and started to ask Spock a question, but hesitated, and then decided not to pursue it.  Her hesitation didn’t quite make sense to her, but she couldn’t help it.  It was a reflex, like when the patient’s leg kicks up after their doctor hit their knee with a patella hammer.

It sat in the middle of her shoulder blades, raw, blunt and clammy, ever since she’d been alone on this search with Spock.  It spoke of an unease Rand had with him, his presence, and she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why she had this feeling.  All she knew was that she wished she’d been paired with someone else.  Hell, she’d even clench her teeth and partner with Rose if she had to!

Partner with Rose.  Wow.  It must be bad if she’d rather be with Rose.

Well, actually, she’d rather be with Khobran, if she really had a choice in the matter. 

Living on a starship could be downright scary at times, much less beaming down on a strange alien planet.  Rand recalled many times since they’d been together, during uncertain instances that the Enterprise had faced, how Khobran was there to comfort her, make her feel safe with a firm squeeze on the shoulder, pulling her close and holding her, brushing her bangs aside so that he could kiss her forehead.

“Yeoman Rand!”

Rand was jarred out of her thoughts by Mr. Spock, whose trumpeting reprimand served as a bucket of ice water to the warmth of her memories.  With goosebumps covering much of her skin, Rand had almost forgotten that she was under the brow beating rays of a mid-morning desert sun.

“It is absolutely imperative that you are fully alert and reliable during this search!  I cannot be the only one here who is doing the work!”  Spock’s voice was sharp, condescending.

Rand flinched at the harshness of the first officer’s tone.  It seemed so unnecessary and over-the-top, especially considering the length of time spent and the lack of progress made on this search.  Damn it, she was working!  We’ve found nothing, Oh Mighty Mr. Spock!  Get over yourself!

“I’m on the task at hand, sir,” said Rand with a defensive weariness, fully aware of the fact that the word ‘sorry’ didn’t enter into her response. 

“The fuck’s your problem?” she thought while visions of her laser gun searing off the tips of Spock’s ears entertained her.

Well, a yeoman could dream, right?

Rand heard the communicator on Spock’s belt go off, and she was relieved.  At least, for this short little window of time, his attention wouldn’t be on her.  Spock reached for his communicator and flipped it open.

“Spock here.”

“Sc-Scott h-here.  Mmuu-me and R-Riley h-haven’t p-picked up on aneee-any life at all, s-sir.  B-But Riley stummmbled upon a p-packet of re-recording wafers offff logs labeled b-by a Duh-Doctor Adruh-Adrienne Ellisssss.  Maaee b-bee they’d g-give usss a-cluh-clue to w-what h-happened to the-them, ssir.”

While Spock listened he glanced over at Rand, who promptly turned away.  She didn’t like him looking at her with those piercing eyes of his. 

Or were they dead eyes? 

“This is a positive turn for us, Mr. Scott, considering that no life has been picked up by any of us thus far.  I will contact Dr. Begay.  We will be heading in now.  You can give Yeoman Rand the tapes for her inspection.  Spock out.”

“Wow.  I can’t understand Scotty’s stuttering.  It seems to be getting worse,” Rand thought.

She wondered if she was the only one who noticed, but then again, she did turn away from Spock, so she was not able to see how he reacted to Scotty’s new speech impediment. 

“We are returning to the camp.  Mr. Riley will present you with these tapes he has found.  You are to report on anything you believe may help us on this mission.”

“Yes, sir,” said Rand with her back to Spock.

Thank God, it’s over!

As Rand started to collect her gear, she swooned suddenly.  It was as if she was spinning around without actually moving from where she stood.

“Yeoman Rand,” yelled Spock, running to her side and hoisting her up by her elbow.

“Are you all right?!”

Rand took a deep breath and gave herself time to steady her feet.  She pressed her free hand onto her temple.

“Whoa!”

“Yeoman?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, clearly shaken.

Rand looked up at the wide-expanse of sky where the white-hot sun loomed above the desert.  While it was true that the sun’s temperatures were fierce at around this time, the visor and gargles she was wearing should have been protection enough from the rays’ heat.  She didn’t understand what was going on.  Was she sick?                     

“Maybe the sun is getting to me.  We’ve been out here for awhile,” she thought.

Maybe.

“I don’t understand.  Your headgear should be able to provide adequate protection from the heat.  This is most unusual.  Perhaps you should see Dr. Begay when we return to the camp…”

“No, Mr. Spock. I’m fine,” Rand assured him with more firmness in her voice.

“Are you quite sure, Yeoman?”

OH, MY GOD! Is this guy deaf, or what?! 

She could feel Spock’s grip on her elbow get tighter.  Was he even aware that he was beginning to hurt her?

Rand twisted her elbow away from his hold.  She wanted desperately to get away from him.

“Yes!  I’m fine!” She was surprised by how abrupt and loud her own voice had become.

There was a thick silence that permeated the air while she hurriedly gathered her gear.  She could feel Spock’s eyes on her while he stood over her.

“Very well,” he said with a quiet edge.  “We shall return to the camp and have a conference on our findings.”

Rand could hear Spock’s footsteps recede as she picked up her backpack and flung it over her shoulder.  When her arms were safely secured in the straps, she started heading back, walking  as fast as she was able, leaving Spock behind.  The sooner she was surrounded by the rest of the landing party, the better she’d feel.

  

   

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter IV Part 1

‘Tis Charity to Show

Chapter IV

Part 1

The dining area was a long, gray, rectangular room, empty of any furnishings except for a singular, long, rickety dining table situated right in the middle of it.  Chairs had to be carried in from the kitchen area if one wanted to sit down for breakfast, unless one didn’t mind standing throughout the whole meal. 

As Scotty, Spock, and Riley brought chairs over and set them around the table, Rand was busy in the kitchen, taking out packets of food and placing them on the trays, which were lined up along the counter.  Dr. Begay and Nurse Rose placed napkins, condiments, and utensils alongside the packets and waited while Rand poured steaming cups of coffee from the newly working pot into rinsed cups. 

While she worked, Rand smiled fondly to herself as she thought just how Khobran would feel if he saw her working in the kitchen like this.  What was it he had said to her on that day, when she was lying in sickbay being treated for a head injury:

“The Captain could get his own damn coffee…”

She chuckled to herself, remembering him sitting there by her bedside, his charming awkwardness melting away as the two of them began the journey towards getting to know one another.

But then, the fondness was replaced by an ache, so she had to force herself out of her head and back onto the meals she was helping to prepare.

“Busy yourself, Janice,” she reprimanded herself.  “After all, there’s coffee to be served and packets of dry, tasteless astronaut food to be handed out.”

After the last of the meals were served, Rand poured the rest of the coffee from the pot into the carafe and carried it to the dining area, placed it on the breakfast table, and sat down next to Riley where her meal was already waiting for her.

“Oh, yumbo,” she exclaimed rubbing her hands in jest.  “Maybe I can whiten my teeth with this stuff, it’s so hard.”

Riley turned from the conversation he was having with Scotty and laughed.

“Hey, at least it doesn’t taste like toothpaste,” he chimed in.

“No, it just won’t taste like anything,” Rand said.

Riley sat forward with his elbows propped on the table and looked at Rand.

“I noticed that you brought your yoga mat along with you.”

“Damn straight!  I don’t go anywhere without my yoga mat, or my yoga routine,” she said with a bright smile.  “Name a position, I never leave home without it.”

A particular pose appeared in her head, the cow pose, which consisted of one being on their hands and knees and then curling their chest and butt up towards the ceiling on the inhale.  Then, another image flashed in her brain of herself in this same position, but naked, with Khobran nailing her vigorously from behind in an erotic dance of cries and sweaty bodies.

“Wuh-watch eh-it, la-lassie!  Yoo- your c-coffee!”  exclaimed Scotty.

“What? Oh, shit!”  Rand was able to snap out of her dreaming and lift up the carafe before the coffee overflowed in her cup. 

“Jeez, thanks Scotty!  Guess I was off somewhere else!”

No kidding.

“I-tuh it hu-hu-happens,” Scotty said with a smile and shrug of his shoulders.

Wait a minute.  What’s with Scotty? 

Is he stuttering?

Rand looked at Riley, who was sitting right next to her, to try to gage his reaction, since he was close enough to hear Scotty, but Riley didn’t seem to notice.

Rand shrugged her own shoulders.  “Maybe I’m just hearing things,” she thought as she put down the carafe and started to tear open her packet of freeze-dried food. 

She looked at the brown and yellow chips, wafers and cubes that tumbled out of the white container.  Before she became an astronaut, Rand had always looked forward to a fine meal at home, or in one of the many chic eateries that lined the main streets of Montclair.  But ever since joining the Academy and entering Starfleet, she’s had to struggle through freezer-burned entrees on the Enterprise and barely edible concoction during on- planet missions, that either came crunchy, dry and rattling in a box, or as a paste to be squeezed out in a tube.

Rand shook her head, utterly grossed out.  She’d have to force this stuff down with her coffee.  Rand reached for her cup, and when she looked up, she noticed Riley with his crossed arms propped up onto the table, his head cocked to the side, looking at her.

“You know, speaking of yoga mats, I can remember back in the Academy this real asshole of a phys. Ed instructor named Russo,” he recalled with a snort. 

“He didn’t like me, and he knew I didn’t like him!  Gave me a real hard time!  So hard that he fucked me over by giving me a C for the class, just because I tripped during one of his famous obstacle courses!”

“Sounds like you’re still pretty angry at him,” said Dr. Begay, who was sitting across from him at the table.

“Oh you have no idea!  He messed up my GPA!  I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of revenge fantasies I’ve had for that jerk! One of them was smacking him over the head with a piece of his goddamn gym equipment!  He used to guard that junk like they were his little babies or something,” he said with disgust.

Everyone at the table laughed good-naturedly.  All except for Spock, who sat silently at the head of the table, eating his meal and drinking his water, oblivious to the mirth around him.  Rand had noticed this and simply couldn’t understand how Spock could ignore Nurse Rose, who laughed the loudest of everyone at the table, with her irritating gasps and snorts, her mouth revealing the partially chewed food in her mouth.

After she recovered, Rose turned to Dr. Begay’s plate of food and then tapped him on the shoulder.

“Do you want that?”

Dr. Begay gave Rose a look.  “Ah, yeah.  We literally just sat down for breakfast, Hyacinth.”

Rand couldn’t believe that one, and rolled her eyes in response to the nurse’s ill manners.   

  

   

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter III Part 3: Warning for sexual content

‘Tis Charity to Show

Chapter III

Part 3

It was in the middle of the night, and the light of the two moons streamed their way through the window blinds in schemes of blazing white lines, giving the colorless spartan bedroom a film noir atmosphere.  Rand lied in her inflated bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.  She’d been restless all night, tossing and turning in bed, getting up to adjust and re-adjust the blinds, plump up or smooth down her pillow. 

It was a profound sadness that was keeping her awake, and it didn’t matter how many times she had tried to alter her surroundings, she couldn’t shake the sadness that held her in it’s tight-fisted grip.

Khobran.

In the past, whenever she thought about her lover, Rand was always filled with warmth, joy, belonging.  Now, at this moment, lying in the semi-darkness, they brought her pain.  It was a pain that sat like a sullen weight on her chest, making her almost hyperventilate.  Images of Khobran, his accusing, hurt face, of him storming out of her quarters on the Enterprise, and  finally of his yearning face in the transporter room, closed in on her.  If she only had a chance to talk to him, to explain herself, to assure him, to tell him he was being unfair, stubborn…to stand on her head and juggle for him!  God!  How many times was she going to go over this shit?!  Over and over she went over and over and over and over…FUCK IT!

Rand threw the covers over her head.  She was going to sleep if it killed her!  God knows Khobran was probably sleeping like a baby back on the ship!  Or was he.

Was he?

Rand saw visions of Khobran’s taunt, emerald green skin, his muscular naked flanks appearing to her under the covers, the material of the blanket acting like some kind of movie screen for Khobran to present himself to her.  Rand’s breathing slowed, and she was lulled into an odd state of both serenity and passion while her lover’s beauty engulfed her.  The warmth that she had always associated with Khobran returned to her in full force, sweeping up from her toes to the top of her head like a silent rip tide.  She could see her hands running over the firm, cut sinews of his powerful thighs, his hard buttocks, shoulders, neck, and jaw line. 

Oh, yes.

God, yes!

His skin was so smooth, so perfect.  Rand could see her fingers running up Khobran’s chin, feeling the warmth of his breath on them as she traced his full lips.  She wanted him, craved him.  Her body grew hot, so hot that she had to kick the covers away for relief, not that she got any.  Not that she wanted any. 

Rand’s body was piping hot, burning, as she squirmed against the mattress, giggling and humming.  The wetness between her legs returned, teasing her.  Her breasts became engorged, her nipples sensitive.  She removed her nightshirt, amazed and amused at how her hard nipples resembled pink coins.  She felt her clit harden and tingle as she parted her legs so wide she felt her vaginal lips part.

Rand squeezed her firm breasts together with her upper arms, feeling their round firmness pressing together in a unified, tantalizing sensation.  She ran the middle finger of her left hand over her sensitive bud, rubbing it vigorously while she inserted the middle finger of her right hand into her tight slit, pulling and pushing it in and out in slick moistness.  Rand drew in her breath and shut her eyes while her passage tightened around her finger and her clit become raw from her manipulations.  She choked out a little sound and pumped her slender hips, causing her sweaty ass to raise off the mattress. 

Rand became addicted to this delicious feeling and worked on herself furiously, gyrating her hips and grinding her tight little rump into the mattress now, her breath ragged as she whispered Khobran again and again in high-pitched uneven cries.  Khobran! Khobran! Oh, my God! Ooooh!  She arched her back as she came in a long shutter, her inhalation sucking into her body in jolts.  After the tide subsided, Rand flopped onto the mattress in a thud, letting out a lengthy, rapid breath, like a deflating balloon.

Rand languished in her bed, her arms flung up over her head and her legs still wide open, like a randy rag doll.  She ran her hands through her long loose hair and took a deep breath, regaling in the afterglow from her thrashing with her phantom lover.  Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was finally drifting off to sleep. 

Rand was breathing softly, and the room held the quiet that was unique to the middle of the night, and she was at peace. 

“Khobran,” she whispered.

Rand stretched out her beautiful, slender upper body like a limber feline and yarned when a little pattering tingled on either side of her inner thighs, and traveled to the very bottom tip of her vagina, where the pattering mutated into an ice cold, wet, abrasive pressing that passed up the length of her vaginal lips, her folds, her tender clit.

Rand was wrenched out of her lulling and bolted upright, her spine in a knot, her eyes pressed downward and her mouth drawn back to expose gritted teeth.  She scrambled in fear and panic towards the wall at the head of the bed, her arms and legs flying and jerking about in emotional chaos and dread.  Grabbing the covers and yanking them up her naked body, Rand pressed herself against the wall and huddled, quivering.  She could feel her body hairs raise and prickle on every inch of her skin.  She turned her head in different directions, searching, looking for the thing that molested her.  She was alone, the corners of her room bare and shadowy.

 There was no one, nothing there.

No one but her.

It took Rand at least two hours to fall back to sleep.

  

   

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter III Part 2

Charity to Show

Chapter III

Part 2

The landing party was meeting in a room that was situated in the very middle of the main building where the archeologists had lived.  It was a large square room filled with a motley collection of portable furniture; chairs, tables, shelves and crates placed haphazardly around the area, some of the pieces either lying on their sides or overturned.  It was as if the archeologists, in their haste, had toppled over furniture while escaping from some unknown terror. 

The color of the room was a dingy grayish-brown, quite a stark contrast to the beauty of

 the planet itself.  It gave off an atmosphere of utilitarianism; work, schedules to be met, storage to keep track of.  While there were games on the shelves like Chess, cards, and Mahjong, there was no sense of play, fun, or comaraderie in these interiors.  Doorless rectangular passageways on either side of the room lead to long dark halls to other rooms in the building. 

The landing party busied itself with straightening out the furniture and picking up pieces of games that have strayed out of their boxes on the shelves.  When Scotty had entered the room, everyone else stopped what they were doing and gathered together around him and Spock. 

“Well, now you have central heating on, but it’s gonna take a wee bit of time before the place even begins to warm up.  And you’ll be glad to know that the portable water tanks are filled with enough water to last us awhile.  Couple that with the extra water we brought from the ship, we’re good to go,” said Scotty, holding a wrench in his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.  Hopefully, the heating process will not take too much time,” said Spock.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I sure could use a cup of joe just about now,” said Riley, vigorously rubbing his hands. 

Rand, who was standing next to Riley, smiled and turned to him.

“I think that can be arranged,” she chirped.

Rand turned and walked out the back door, which led to a lengthy, half-lit hallway.  Turning a corner, Rand spotted the kitchen and hurried towards it. 

“Can’t make them all wait,” she thought as she trotted towards the bright light of the kitchen, which emanated the corridor. 

The kitchen was a white, low-ceiling, stretch of interior with a long counter in front of a serving window.  Right beneath this window stood a coffee pot, one that had obviously belonged to the archeologists, as the coffee pot from the Enterprise was still sitting unpacked in one of their crates.

“All the more convenient,” she said aloud to herself as she whisked herself behind the counter, took the coffee pot, and went behind the serving window to the narrow cooking area with its stove, oven, cooking and eating utensils and cabinets. 

Rand went over to a cabinet, which was right over the other side of the serving window, and reached up, opened it, spotted a tin of coffee right on the bottom shelf, and grabbed it.

“Good, plenty still in here,” she said to herself after opening up the lid and peeking inside the tin. 

Rand removed the filter from the coffee pot and opened it, rinsed it out in the sink right below the cabinet, filled it with coffee grinds, replaced the filter lid, and put it aside as she placed the coffee pot under the one-notch faucet, allowing cold water to shoot into the pot.  When the pot was filled up she placed the filter back in it and closed the top.  Putting the pot down on the ledge of the serving window, she pulled out her phaser from its holster and set it to stun, aimed it, and fired.

The coffee pot glowed a bright orange-yellow under the phaser fire.  Rand could smell the rich aroma of coffee emanating from the stainless steel pot.  When she was satisfied, she released her thumb, ceasing fire.

While Rand waited for the pot to cool down, she replaced her phaser in her holster, reached for a tray, a carafe, cups, saucers, spoons and rinsed them, reached for small packets of condiments and carried all of these items over to the front counter to set them up. 

Rand went back over to the server window to check on the pot.  It had cooled down, as the glow from the laser had faded.  She promptly took the handle and picked up the pot, carrying it over to the tray, flipped open the carafe top and poured the coffee into it. 

After setting the empty coffee pot back onto the hot plate, Rand gripped the sides of the tray and its contents and carefully picked them all up, carrying everything out the kitchen and into the hall, heading back to the meeting room where everyone else sat in the cold brought about by the desert evening.

“Oh my God, please tell me I’m not seeing things!” exclaimed Riley with a huge joyful smile on his face when he turned to see Rand enter the meeting room with the big tray of coffee, cups and saucers, which she placed gingerly on one of the tables in the room.

The landing party eagerly gathered around the tray, exclamations of relief from the cold filling the room as Rand poured each person a cup of coffee from the carafe and handed one to each of the crewmembers.

“Thank you, Janice!” You’re an angel!” said Dr. Begay, taking the cup of hot coffee and cradling it reverently between the palms of his hands and inhaling the nutty, glorious aroma. 

“You’re very welcome, Mathias,” said Rand.

“Goodness, Lassie!  Hot coffee!  How in God’s name did you finagle this without any power around here yet?” asked Scotty, eagerly taking the cup of coffee offered to him, like an excited child.

Rand shrugged her shoulders, clearly proud of her small feat.

“I simply filled up the coffee pot with coffee grinds and water, zapped it with my phaser, and presto-chango, coffee!  Now, mind you, you may end up glowing in the dark after drinking the stuff, but at least it’s hot.”

Rand’s quip was followed by grateful, relaxed chuckles from the rest of the landing party, all except for Mr. Spock, who waved away Rand’s gesture

of offering.

“I fail to see how drinking coffee that has been heated with a phaser will actually make one glow in the dark,” he said with an incredulousness that only he could deliver.

Rand, after taking Spock’s coffee for herself, looked at him with a deadpan expression on her face and said: “That was a joke, Mr. Spock.”

Spock nodded his head, as if doing so would make him eventually understand, but the final raise of an eyebrow indicated a clear mark of defeat in ever getting the joke.

   

'Tis Charity to Show Chapter III Part 1: Warning for sexual content

‘Tis Charity to Show

Chapter III

Part 1

Rand felt herself materialize onto the desert planet surface of Tijus.  She gave her body time to get its bearings, for her feet to feel more secure to the ground and her vision to stop shifting.  When she was finally grounded and centered, she, along with the rest of the landing party, started to take in their surroundings. 

The archeological site was like a ghost town, the wind making loud hollow groans as it coiled its way through the abandoned structures, like a serpent.  In the middle of this site was a hole dug wide and deep, surrounded by scaffolding and digging tools of various types and sizes, that swayed on the hooks of their tool stands.  Unearthed ancient artifacts were placed neatly in a rectangular box, each item separated by compartments while padds, pens, and flashlights lied next to these boxes.  The desert sand had accumulated around these tools and findings, almost covering them from sight.  The buildings where the archeologists had resided surrounded the spot, the one-story rectangular structures stretching vertically behind them, making narrow alleys in between, that acted as tunnels for the howling winds.

Rand noticed how the planet itself was a dune of burnt-orange lying underneath contorted, sloping boulders of a rich deep chocolate hue, placed in various distances from one another, like a vast, endless zen garden.  All this was blanketed by a solid, cloudless turquoise sky with a blood orange sun hovering over the precipice of the horizon, getting ready to set. Purple configurations, like ribbons, flowed and twisted against the sky, radiating from the flaming ball of the sun in abstract-expressionist patterns.  Rand soaked in the desolate beauty around her, her attention away from the site and the other members of the landing party.  She looked down at the burnt-orange ground underneath her feet, and noticed that the pant legs of her jumpsuit were now the same exact color of the desert sand.  When she looked up from where she stood, she saw that the rest of the landing party was clad in the same burnt-orange shade.  The terrain suits were designed to function in many different climates.  Besides camouflage, these outfits were able to regulate the temperature of the fabric so that the wearer would be able to survive in more extreme climates, like a desert, or an arctic tundra. 

The landing party was gathering around Spock, so Rand pulled herself away from her communion with the alien landscape and walked over to join the other crewmen, who were posing questions about their mission to Mr. Spock.

“Do you think that these archeologists were kidnapped by beings hostile to the Federation?” asked Scotty, placing his hands on his hips and squinting his eyes, looking like an old movie sleuth.

Spock looked pensive as he brought his hand up to his chin and cupped it with his long, elegant fingers.

“If that is what has happened, then we will indeed find the evidence that tells us so,” he said simply.

“Do you suppose that circumstances arose that gave them no other choice but to leave, like a plague or something?”  asked Riley.

“No evidence of such has been picked up by any of the planet-wide scanning searches,”

said Spock with finality.

Rand looked ahead of her and could see all the needed equipment standing obediently by, a few feet in front of the landing party, just as Khobran had assured they would be.

Khobran.

Rand felt a pang in her chest as she visualized his face, his hurt face.  She hoped that their time away from one another would heal the emotional wounds that she had inflicted upon him.

Damn it.

“Is that a greenhouse?”

The question came from Nurse Rose, her low horsey voice cutting through Rand’s thoughts.  Rand turned to where Rose was pointing and, sure enough, spotted a large greenhouse that stood a few feet above the other buildings, its prism glass glinting with the deep red of the evening sun.

“Probably where the archeologists cultivated much of their food supply.  They were here for the long term,” said Spock.

“Do you think there will be clues inside as to what might have happened to them?”  asked Dr. Begay.

“It’s worth a look, Doctor,” said Spock.

The landing party started towards the greenhouse.  There was an eerie quiet surrounding them as they gained ground to the asymmetrical building, its girth widening menacingly the closer they got to it.  Rand was softly on edge, cautious and watchful, turning her head sideways and behind her, grateful that she was not the last in the group as Riley and Rose were close in back of her.

They reached the greenhouse and stood in front of it.  There was no initiative to enter the greenhouse by anyone in the landing party, but one by one, they began to take a look around the surrounding area, being mindful not to stray too far from the group.  Rand walked up to the building, unable too see clearly because of the play of light on the glass, flickering back and forth slowly, with ease.  She leaned her forehead onto the window and cupped her hands over the sides of her eyes. 

Rows of plant life of various colors, sizes and types filled up her view with vigorous, unbruised vitality.

“At least the greenhouse is working.  Real convenient for us.  The produce we brought with us is packed in ice,” she thought.

Having grown up on organic food, the thought of eating fresh produce sang of absolute heaven for Rand.  The fruits and vegetables on the Enterprise were usually packed in sub stasis for so long that what resulted in taste was a freezer-burn residue.  Yuch.  But now she was overjoyed as she spotted corn and carrots over to the right in the corner of the greenhouse. 

The produce was swimming in a rich amber light from the setting sun, it’s color mixing nicely with the greens, yellows, oranges, reds, blues, purple; all the hues represented by the comely bounty in this place.   It all had a very soothing affect on Rand, putting her earlier prickliness to rest, ebbing away into a seductive calm.

That seductive calm seemed to do something to the leaves, stems, and roots of the plant life in the greenhouse.  The characteristics of colors changed in a blink of an eye, becoming more intense while the membranes of the plants turned more pliant in texture. 

Rand spotted a flutter of movement among the foliage, and assumed, at first, that it came from a small animal. 

“Maybe a lizard snuck in through a crack in the building,” Rand thought.

But then the fluttering started to ripple through the plants and produce, fingering its way outward, like waves from a pebble that was tossed in a quiet pond.  In her confusion, Rand tried to find out where the movement was coming from, but then, something happened.  The foliage began to widen, stretching outward, reaching forward, magnifying their presence against Rand’s view.  The tips and veins of the leaves, stalks and stems started to convolute out of shape, bending and wriggling into amorphous clumps which grew limbs, heads and torsos, muscles writhing underneath what now appeared to be flesh.  Mouths opened grotesquely, male members sprang up, necks pulled forward, and arms reached out while waists, ankles and buttocks carved themselves into existence.

 At first, Rand couldn’t quite make out what she was seeing, then after she was able to see what was happening in front of her eyes, she couldn’t believe it! 

The plant life, the vegetables, the fruits, the flora, were replaced by doll-sized humanoid forms all engaged in a variety of sexual positions.  Clusters of hairless couples, threesomes, sometimes orgies, went at it from where they were.  Some bucked and pushed in frenetic and dizzying energy, others caressed and explored one another in gentle, hesitant lovemaking.  They were in the same colors as the plant life and produce--red, purple, yellow, orange, pink, blue and green.

 Rand pressed herself against the glass, unable to tear her eyes away from the action that unfolded in front of her, her breathing growing more rapid as it fogged the window near her mouth, her hands flattening, adhered to the plate of glass of the greenhouse.  Her attention turned to the stalks of corn, the peaks of kernels gone, replaced by large yellow penises bursting out of green sheaves.  The tomatoes in the corner were now rounded red plump breasts, the green stems now hardened, puckered nipples, offered freely and openly.  Lettuce morphed into light green vaginal folds pulsating out of the rich soil, and the pumpkins were now buttocks of many different sizes and shapes also sticking out of the soil, effectively mooning Rand. 

Of all the copulating humanoids in front of her, Rand was drawn to one particular green couple.  The young woman was sprawled on her back, lying on the shelf where many of the plants had been, her lithe body undulating and squirming underneath her lover in the throws of orgasm.  Her long, graceful, toned legs were spread wide in accommodation as her beautiful face was twisted in wanting heat.  Her breasts, though not large, were full, firm, buoyant and round.  They bounced along to the rhythm of the woman gliding back and forth, pushing and pulling on her lover as she shook her head frantically. 

But what really drew Rand to this woman was that the face and body was her own.

That diminutive creature was her!

 The woman’s eyes were shut tight while her hands gripped her lover’s pumping hips.  The man’s pace quickened as his own face contorted in ecstasy. 

The male figure was powerful, chiseled in lean muscle.  His broad shoulders flexed, his head and neck raised, his body shining in sweat. 

He turned his face over in Rand’s direction and looked straight at her.

 It was Khobran’s face. 

He looked straight into Rand’s transfixed eyes, his body shuttering in release, his mouth wide.  After his came inside his lover, he jutted out his tongue and flicked it in rapid motion, like a reptile.

 Rand reflexively pushed herself away from the glass and gripped her stomach, her eyes still wide like a frightened doe under the double-barrel of a rifle.  She hastily looked both ways to see and wondered if the other crew members had witnessed what she had, but she was too embarrassed to dare ask if they had witnessed it.  Her hands creeped to her neck and she took a few steps back, then she felt something as she looked down between her wobbly legs.

There was dampness between her folds, though it was just a whisper.

“Shit,” Rand thought while the blood rose to her cheeks, flushing her face with redness and warmth.

“Why on Earth would they dump all those boxes of unused food in there like that?  All the heat from the greenhouse will make them spoil!  What a waste!”  exclaimed Nurse Rose indignantly, her voice muffled by the fact that she was just about pressing her nose and mouth against the greenhouse window.

“What the hell are you talking about?  What food?  I see a lot of gym equipment, though.  It’s like the people just decided to dump it all in there!  Why would they put gym equipment in a freakin’ greenhouse, for Christ’s sake?”  asked Riley.

“No, you’re both wrong.  It’s discarded medical waste-bloodied sutures, old needles, stuff like that.  Discarding that stuff where you keep your produce?”  said Dr. Begay, shaking his head in amazement. 

Rand looked at the three of them, who were peering into the greenhouse just like she had been, and was stunned.

“Why are we all seeing different things in that greenhouse?!”  she thought.

“Interesting.”

Rand turned to see Spock and Scotty standing close behind the rest of the group.

“Three people seeing different things, even though they are looking inside the same place.  Fascinating.” 

Rand, at least, could be relieved, because she’d have to hide somewhere if everyone saw what she saw! 

“Rand, can you tell us what you saw?”  Scotty suddenly asked out of the blue, though earnestly.

Rand’s eyes grew wide again, and she was once more aware of the wetness between her legs.

“I…saw…plants turning…into…large, erect, trees,”  Rand stammered.

There. That should pass as the truth.

Scotty and Spock looked at each other.

“Did you look inside the greenhouse?”  Scotty asked Spock.

“No.”

“Neither did I.  Guess we’ll have to look inside to see what’s in there after all.”

“Yes, I would agree with that, Mr. Scott.”

Everyone stepped aside for the two men when they walked purposefully to the greenhouse door.  They stepped inside and looked around, their faces showing no reaction at all.  After a short while, Rand, Riley, Rose, and Dr. Begay followed suite and stepped inside.  Rand and the others spun around, clearly startled at what they were seeing, exclamations of confusion tumbling out of their lips in quick discordant succession while they took in everything around them.  They looked up, and then looked down on the floor. 

On the floor of the greenhouse were discarded cardboard boxes strewn around in disarray, empty flowering pots broken in bits and halves, dried pale tan and grey soil fallen underneath them.  The plants, the produce, the vegetation which had been colorful and alive to Rand’s eyes only moments ago, hung crisp and limp from shelves, in cracked rows of dirt, and suspended containers.  Fruits and vegetables lay rotted, the skins peeling and cracking away from the sun-scorched, juiceless meat.  The atmosphere was not moist and warm, but cool and arid like the evening desert outside. 

Rand knelt down and picked up a dry, lifeless plant the size of an African violet.  She held it up in one hand and with the other hand closed her fingers around the leaves, crumbling them easily like ancient parchment.  Tossing the plant back on the ground, she wiped her hands on her pant legs and got back on her feet. 

Rand could feel that earlier raw, spooked feeling making a comeback.