~ by M. C. Pehrson
The horizon flamed as Vulcan’s star, Eridani 40, gradually sank below the vast rim of the desert world. Unnoticed by anyone, a dark-haired boy quietly slipped from the back door of a modest home. Sand heated his sandals as he hurried toward the nearby hills, and before long, he began to sweat. But out here, there was no one to stare at the faint sheen of moisture, no cruel remarks from pureblood Vulcan children; who did not perspire so easily. He was alone, and he liked it that way. Most of his summers had been spent in this high region, where his human mother came to escape ShiKahr’s blistering heat.
Young Spock followed a footpath until the ground rose, then climbed steadily. Atop the first hill, he reached a wide flatland, studded by khree mounds, thorn bushes and brave tufts of grass. After testing the breeze, he hunkered down confidently behind a boulder, downwind. No flesh-eating plants lurked among these rocks, and the day’s lingering warmth would keep the sand-dwelling predators deep. This was his favorite spot, protected by stone outcroppings on three sides, with an unobstructed view of the khree colony. Perfect.
Quickly now, he unwrapped juicy chunks of plomeek and clawfruit and lobbed them at the khree mounds. He licked his sticky fingers and rubbed them dry in the sand. Now for the waiting. Still, as the stones around him, Spock held watch over the silent colony. Insects lit on his skin, muscles began to protest the inactivity, but he single-mindedly ignored every distraction. The waning heat, the scent of food, and perhaps his fierce willpower, would serve to lure the skittish khree.
A faint sound stirred the sand, and Spock glimpsed movement. Here and there, sleek heads peeked out, noses twitching in the shimmery heat waves. Enticed by the scattered fruit, the khree edged warily from their burrows. Spock counted their mottled bodies – four, eight, twelve. Then he lost count, as the creatures swarmed from every colony mound, milling over the food scraps, nibbling hungrily with their little teeth, making way for each other with remarkable equanimity.
The scene never varied, nor did the yearning it evoked. Oh, how he missed the friendly comfort of his old pet sehlat, I-Chaya, gone now for more than a year. If only he could tame one of these timid desert animals to keep as his own; if only his father would not think such a notion weak and foolish.
Sadly, Spock dissuaded himself from approaching the burrows; best to leave now, for the daylight was fast failing. He forced his eyes from the eagerly feasting khree to the desolate land surrounding his rock fortress. A sinuous motion caught his attention. Something large was coming his way; circling in, belly to the ground. Concentrating, he tracked the wild creature’s advance, and his stomach knotted as he identified the savage predator.
Le-Matya! Sleek and massive, a lithe powerhouse of deadly intent. Ever so slowly, she moved in, her green leathery hide and gold markings rendering her nearly invisible in the dusk. On she came, muscles rippling with menace, eyes narrowed to ferocious slits above her poisonous fangs, as she stalked the unsuspecting khree. Near the farthest mound, she paused and then tensed for one tremulous instant.
Spock didn’t dare cry out to the hapless creatures in warning, and suddenly she sprang! There was a flash of teeth and claws, and fur flew amid shrill, terrified screams. Dusty sand kicked up in a furious cloud that obscured the entire colony, and rained down upon Spock in his hiding place. When the air cleared, the ground was littered with torn bodies. Stunned by potent venom, the wounded khree lay helpless, as their attacker walked among them, calmly choosing the youngest and fattest to begin her meal. Then the Le-Matya hunched down and gulped great mouthfuls of bloody flesh.
Spock’s stomach heaved, but he didn’t turn away, despite the wrenching emotions flooding him beyond all control. Just such a beast had fatally injured I-Chaya when the faithful sehlat followed him on a trial Kaus–wan. That unauthorized venture had cost the life of his pet. Now he had come here without permission and had unwittingly lured the khree to their deaths.
Spock clung motionless to the hot stone, too preoccupied to notice a change slowly settling around him. But as the breeze stiffened and gusts began to riffle his hair, he came to realize that he might soon be in worse trouble.
The wind was shifting direction. A few more degrees to the west and it would blow his scent straight under the predator’s quivering nostrils. Unfortunately, the Le-Matya showed no inclination to leave. Yet if Spock moved, the tiniest rustling would alert those sensitive ears. She would be upon him, rending and tearing at his flesh. That was reason enough for concern, but there was something else that he feared as much as a Le-Matya – another desert savage that pounced boldly upon its prey with little warning. Now he also sensed its approach in a nearby whirlwind. He sensed it in the sand, stirring like a great restless blanket over the plateau.
His barbaric ancestors might have clutched at their amulets, pleading to be delivered. But this was an enlightened age, an enlightened world. He was expected to control his fear and apply logic; to survive solely by the use of his wits. If at that moment, the human part of him launched a prayer toward a heaven, it was due solely to his mother’s influence.
In all the darkening sky, there was not a cloud, not a bird, and now, not even a breeze. There came a stillness so absolute, that Spock heard the panicked thudding of his heart, and was shamed by it.
With a startling swish of sand, the Le-Matya bolted. Abandoning her unfinished meal, she raced out of sight. Spock poised, ready to run for the safety of home. Senses alert and reaching, he listened. A faraway sound made his throat go tight… an ominous rush of wind, advancing… the heated clash of a thousand rumbling voices… the wrath of all the ancient gods descending…
Spock sighted a dark billowing curtain and drew in his breath. Then the sandstorm struck, and he fell to the ground, choking. With a pang of pure terror, he remembered the legends of S’Tradeh Veh, the destroyer. The great wind had been known to claim countless victims – animals, children, even grown men and women—filling rivers, moving hills, laying waste to entire towns.
Fighting for breath, he peeled off his outer shirt and wound it around his face, as a crude filtering mask. He fashioned a deep slit for his eyes, but there was nothing to see. The world had been turned upside-down and shaken. The evil brown tide clawed through his undershirt to his skin, making him want to scream. To remain here unsheltered, was to invite certain, horrible death – to be ground by S’Tradeh Veh to a bloody pulp and then buried.
He began to crawl. With his back to the wind, he moved blindly, scraping against thorn bushes, bumping into rocks. He reached an incline and continued. Hopelessly lost, he struggled from handhold to handhold, while the sand flayed him without mercy. At last, he came to a level area. Body pressed flat against rock, he fumbled his way along a ledge, desperately searching for shelter. Inward the path twisted, and outward, then inward again, to a sudden shock of stillness. Numbed by his ordeal, it took him a moment to realize that he was in a cave.
Safe! His muscles went slack with relief. Peeling the tattered shirt from his head, he used it as a pillow. Never had cool, hard stone felt so welcoming.
For a long while, Spock lay, listening to the wind howl. By now, his mother would realize that he had left the house. She would be worried. What if she had gone out searching? What if she’d been caught in the storm? Maybe he would never see her again.
Drowsing, in a weary haze of pain, he only slowly became alerted to another presence – not by sight or smell, but by a more subtle form of Vulcan perception. Something was nearby, silently watching him in the cavern gloom.
Spock’s sore skin prickled with apprehension, and belatedly, he recalled his survival training. A boy who had passed the trial of Kahs-wan in his seventh year did not blunder into caves; particularly not during storms. Boys were not the only ones seeking shelter at such times.
With agonizing care, he raised his head, for abrupt moves invited attack. Whatever it was, it must not be startled…or provoked…
Spock froze as a throaty growl vibrated to the core of his being. Even without seeing, he knew – it was her – the Le-Matya! How fitting an end – to suffer the bite of fangs, the sting of poison, the slice of claws – like poor I-Chaya, who had died protecting his errant young master.
Very carefully, Spock let out his breath. Though fresh sweat began to break out, he felt cold – suddenly quite cold – and he began to shiver. The chill of that predatory presence was already unbearable.
“What are you waiting for?” Spock asked the creature. “Come then.”
The Le-Matya snarled in response, and he imagined her muscles gathering to strike…
“NO!”
…Fully grown, Spock awoke with a gasp, the dream-terror still echoing through his mind. Abruptly, he swung his legs from his bed and sat up in the darkness of his cabin, aboard the Enterprise. It had been many years since he had thought about that deadly summer evening. By now, he should have fully suppressed the pain of such childhood experiences and moved on.
The Le-Matya had spared him. Perhaps she had been too glutted with khree, to bother with one small child. Perhaps, she too, had been thankful just to shelter from the storm. Perhaps, it was an answer to a young boy’s prayer. In any case, the gale had soon subsided. Spock had darted out just in time to hear his mother calling for him, and he had run to her as quickly as his legs could carry him.
Now, with some effort, he pulled himself from the past and centered his mind in the familiar refuge of logic. The past was the past. Day shift would soon begin. Leaving the bed, he waved up a light and reached for his Starfleet uniform.
For more fantastic articles from our latest magazine issue ‘Space’, please click on the below link:
F&F Fall 2019: Space
Image Credit: Original art by Judith Bard
Wonderful. This was so vivid and well written.