<\/p>\n
\u00a0LADY MACBETH<\/i><\/b> exits.<\/i><\/p>\n DOCTOR \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 — Shakespeare,\u00a0 Macbeth, Act V scene 1<\/i><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/i>Here\u2019s it all went down.<\/p>\n By midnight, I\u2019d drafted a delicately worded blog that basically said, without actually saying, \u201cI know what you did in 1990.\u201d<\/p>\n And how did I know what I now knew?<\/p>\n Through the pointy-eared alien informant sitting in my living room.\u00a0 How else?<\/p>\n I pieced together a little of Mr. Spock\u2019s story, from his own terse factoids, and – much more entertainingly – from the doctor, who obviously got off on needling his colleague.<\/p>\n I wasn\u2019t entirely clear on the nature of Mr. Spock\u2019s powers, which in itself kept me slightly unnerved, but it seemed he was half human, and half, uh, Vulcan.\u00a0 From the planet Vulcan.<\/p>\n Uh huh.\u00a0 Mr. Martian Chronicles<\/a> himself told me this, not even looking up at me while his long fingers whizzed over the keys on my laptop.\u00a0 Like it was no big secret that there are these other boys in the \u2018hood, all pointy-eared and slightly superior, just waiting for us Earthlings to answer the doorbell and come out to play.<\/p>\n Anyway, it seemed that Vulcans had some perceptual advantages over regular humans.\u00a0 In this case, it meant that while their shipboard computers were going haywire, flashing those constantly changing reports of all possible futures, the flashes were so fleeting that only Mr. Spock was capable of visually perceiving them.\u00a0 Not to mention that he registered even the most ephemeral data bits and used them to make running calculations of future probabilities.<\/p>\n Even Dr. McCoy seemed to take it as fact, that seemingly superhuman act, and they all seemed to accept that his projections were something they could build their whole plan around.<\/p>\n Oh, and, despite his lean frame, he apparently was stronger than your average puny human, too.<\/p>\n Do I really have to confess this?\u00a0 What girl hasn\u2019t speculated about how Superman would pan out in the bedroom?<\/p>\n I whisked away that random and totally unsolicited thought as fast as I could.\u00a0 For one thing, he still kind of weirded me out.\u00a0 For another, I didn\u2019t know whether mindreading might be one of his things.\u00a0 There you are.\u00a0 People trying to save the world and my mind\u2019s off in the gutter.<\/p>\n Despite the distractions, I managed to draft my blog and even polished it a little, before finally emailing a copy to Worsham, with an invitation to discuss it in the morning, my place, 11 a.m.\u00a0 Otherwise, it would be posted online at noon.\u00a0 I hit the \u201csend\u201d button as if I was literally sealing my own fate, crossing my own personal Rubicon.<\/p>\n There aren\u2019t many occasions when a writer can accurately use the word \u201cliterally\u201d.\u00a0 Either this was one of those times, or I was the world\u2019s biggest fool.<\/p>\n Then again, there was a literal space alien in my living room, which I chose to take as pretty strong evidence that I wasn\u2019t completely crazy after all.<\/p>\n I also prepared a long distribution list, ready to send the piece to key people by other means, just in case Worsham\u2019s unseen cyber-goons took down the NOW website.\u00a0 It had been known to happen.<\/p>\n My new team had commandeered Bob\u2019s computer and my brand new iPad.\u00a0 Combining those with their own equipment \u2013 after having lived with one tech whiz already, I\u2019d stopped asking the how\u2019s \u2013 they developed their own list of contacts world wide, a lot of names I\u2019d never heard of, and some I had, deciding what and how much information they should divulge.<\/p>\n Earlier, I\u2019d given Dr. McCoy a crash course online in 21st<\/sup> century crime drama sleaze.\u00a0 Sex crimes, serial killers, child molesters.\u00a0 He and Captain Jim went to work planning my death, along with implicating Worsham in as many other felonies as they had time to concoct.<\/p>\n The events of the next morning were agreed on.\u00a0 Mr. Spock re-worked his probabilities and told us that the rate of flux within the anomaly appeared to be slowing down, which should allow a window of time for safe transport back to their ship by noon, Earth time, at the latest.\u00a0 I still felt a little something flipping over in my stomach every time the idea of \u201creturning to the ship\u201d came up.<\/p>\n By now, I was just hanging on for dear life.<\/p>\n All I knew \u2013 without a trace of doubt – was that my life as I\u2019d known it had simply played out.\u00a0 In these astounding waves of intermittent insight, I kept perceiving that everything I\u2019d ever done had been leading me here.\u00a0 Even the completely unbelievable nature of the situation; it felt like some previously unknown part of me simply would not have accepted anything less, like part of me had been demanding all along that spacemen from the future show up \u2013 with their pointy-eared sidekick in tow.\u00a0 Like something in my DNA had been programmed all along for this.<\/p>\n That\u2019s what it felt like, this understanding that the Way for me lay so unquestionably with these suddenly descended strangers, in some vague but alluring future.\u00a0 Maybe the particularly strange Mr. Spock was right.\u00a0 Maybe I\u2019d already been there.<\/p>\n Pondering this, and again half-afraid the Vulcan was picking up my meandering thoughts like some NSC wiretap, I flopped down on the sofa, having just finished my final post.\u00a0 My final post ever<\/i>.\u00a0 I hadn\u2019t realized how beat I was, but suddenly I felt the heavy weight of fatigue and tension, and my head involuntarily nodded forward, my eyes resisting the effort to stay open.\u00a0 I jerked, snapped to attention, and made an effort to sit up, hoping no one had noticed, but Jim had seen, and came to sit down beside me.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure about all this, Hanalie?\u00a0 About\u2026 everything?\u201d<\/p>\n I could only nod at this point.\u00a0 I was.\u00a0 Sure.\u00a0 Just so tired I couldn\u2019t think clearly about how I got to this point.<\/p>\n He reached out and covered my hand with his.\u00a0 His hand was strong and steady, and I felt the heat as he gave mine a definitive, confident squeeze before letting go. \u00a0\u201cI just want you to know, you won\u2019t be alone,\u201d he assured me.\u00a0 \u201cWhatever happens, we\u2019ll be there to protect you.\u201d<\/p>\n I just nodded blearily.\u00a0 But then, something occurred to me, one more loose end.\u00a0 I looked over at Jim, who barely showed any signs of fatigue, while I was feeling limper than the leftover Udon noodles from supper.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re really doing this?\u201d I asked, a seemingly inane question, considering all our feverish work for the past few hours.\u00a0 I guess I needed to hear it one more time.\u00a0 \u201cWe\u2019re really leaving Earth in the morning?\u00a0 For good?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re having second thoughts?\u201d he asked, looking concerned, whether for my own welfare or because, at this point, changing my mind would\u2019ve screwed up everything, I don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I shook my head.\u00a0 \u201cNo.\u00a0 It\u2019s just\u2026It\u2019s just that I need to\u2026dispose\u2026 of some stuff.\u00a0 You guys are pretty good hackers.\u00a0 Can you do something for me?\u201d<\/p>\n They could, and did.\u00a0 It was done.\u00a0 I calculated the time on the west coast and looked up a phone number I\u2019d seldom had occasion to use, old pals of Bob\u2019s.\u00a0 I had to dig deep for enough adrenalin to pull off a few minutes of breezy normality.<\/p>\n \u201cHi, Melinda.\u00a0 It\u2019s Hani Surat.\u00a0 Yeah, long time.\u00a0 Yeah, thanks, no, I\u2019m doing okay.\u00a0 Working away, you know, keeping busy.\u00a0 How are the kids?\u00a0 Really?\u00a0 God, that\u2019s precious.\u00a0 Listen, Melinda, I just wanted to give you a heads up.\u00a0 I think you\u2019re going to get a pretty big anonymous donation to the Foundation.\u00a0 No, sorry, I can\u2019t say where it\u2019s coming from.\u00a0 You know, I just hear things, but I think it\u2019s solid.\u00a0 You just might want to check in the morning for wire transfers.\u00a0 Yeah, no, I don\u2019t get out that way very much, but maybe this summer.\u00a0 I know, I love Seattle in the summer, too.\u00a0 Sure.\u00a0 I will.\u00a0 Listen, I need to go.\u00a0 Good to talk to you.\u00a0 Give my best to Bill, okay?\u00a0 Bye.\u201d<\/p>\n As that one last very large bridge went up in flames behind me, I sagged back onto the sofa, barely able to hold my head up, yet still wound very tight.<\/p>\n \u201cShe needs to get some rest, Jim,\u201d The doctor spoke up firmly.\u00a0 \u201cNo\u201d, he went on, cutting short my protest about not wanting to miss anything.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s going to be a hard enough day tomorrow.\u00a0 Come on, I\u2019m going to give you something to help you sleep for a few hours.\u00a0 And I don\u2019t want any arguments.\u201d<\/p>\n Jim nodded in agreement, and Dr. McCoy followed me back to my bedroom with his medical kit.\u00a0\u00a0 He said he wanted to do a preliminary body scan so he could have my chemistry to work with.\u00a0 I guess my expression gave me away again.<\/p>\n Nothing invasive, he reassured me.\u00a0\u00a0 Tomorrow we would have to do some swabs, and blood work, the primitive 21st<\/sup> century way, but for now, just what he called a \u201croutine scan\u201d.<\/p>\n So, on my last night on Earth, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, put on the same old oversized, shapeless t-shirt I wore almost every night, another faint bequest from my dead husband.\u00a0 Emerging from the bathroom, fatigue winning out over the oddity of a strange man in my bedroom, I made a beeline for the bed and crawled under the covers.\u00a0 And yet, Dr. McCoy\u2019s (very respectful) presence in my bedroom actually felt almost as natural as Bob\u2019s always had.\u00a0 What was it about these people that felt so damned\u2026 familiar?<\/p>\n He took out a device no bigger than the palm of his hand, and ran it up and down, never touching my body under the covers.<\/p>\n \u201cGood god. What\u2026\u201d, he blurted, then cut himself off, sharply, with a quick apology.\u00a0 \u201cSorry, Hanalie, didn\u2019t mean to startle you.\u00a0 It\u2019s just\u2026well, plenty of time later to talk about your health, and what used to pass for enlightened surgical treatment; never mind that now. \u00a0And I\u2019d forgotten about the state of environmental pollution in this era. The level of pollutants in your body is astounding.\u00a0 Don\u2019t worry; that, at least, we can fix.\u00a0 When we get to Starbase we\u2019ll put you through a full detox.\u201d\u00a0 He smiled, \u201cA little present to welcome you to your new century.\u201d\u00a0 He busied himself with another device.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m going to give you something to make you sleep for a while.\u00a0 No hangovers, I guarantee.\u00a0 And a little hemo-boost, since I\u2019m going to have to take some blood from you in the morning.\u00a0 I can replicate part of it, but I have to have a real sample to work with.\u201d<\/p>\n And he lifted up the raveling sleeve of Bob\u2019s ratty t-shirt, pressed something against my bicep, patted my arm and I was asleep.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n < previous<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 next ><\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" < previous\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 next > LADY MACBETH To bed, to bed. There\u2019s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come.\u00a0 Give me your hand. What\u2019s done cannot be undone.\u2014To bed, to bed, to bed! \u00a0LADY MACBETH … Continue reading ![\"light](\"https:\/\/hanilives.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/photo14-150x200.jpg\")
<\/a>LADY MACBETH
\n<\/i><\/b>To bed, to bed. There\u2019s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come.\u00a0 Give me your hand. What\u2019s done cannot be undone.\u2014To bed, to bed, to bed!<\/i><\/p>\n
\n<\/b>Will she go now to bed?<\/i><\/p>\n