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Fic: Observations, Ch 90
Star Trek

By means of a considerable amount of forgery, ingenuity, and other doubtlessly illegal activities, we have obtained both employment and housing. The woman Edith Keeler helped us a great deal on both matters, though Jim’s charm and easy grin certainly sped along the process. She has been unusually generous with both her time and money. I cannot yet determine if this is an intrinsic quality of hers, or if she has some ulterior motive.

Jim and I have obtained positions at a restaurant in Manhattan. I have been hired as a host, while Jim will work clearing tables, bringing out drinks, acting as what the Terrans refer to as a ‘busboy.’ The terminology is rather strange. I will have to find some way to cover my ears and the upward slant of my eyebrows, as we have found that it is not acceptable for me to always wear a hat. Jim has suggested that I grow my hair out. The suggestion is not unreasonable, as current Terran fashion seems to accept longer hair on males. I believe that is my only alternative.

We have found housing in Brooklyn. The location is not particularly convenient, as the nearest subway station is several blocks away. However, the monthly rent it is within the means of our projected income, and apartment itself is relatively spacious. There is plenty of room for me to set up a makeshift laboratory to conduct the necessary nanoelectronic experiments. We learned that we had to ‘put down’ a security deposit and the first month of rent, as well as sign a contract known as a ‘lease,’ but as neither Jim nor I had earned any money, we thought we would not be able to obtain housing at all. In a surprising move, Ms. Keeler paid everything for us.

Ms. Keeler also bought for us a new change of clothing. The clothes are of low quality and they are not new, but they are clean and suffice for our current purposes. Jim plans on going shopping for new apparel when we receive our first paycheck. I am of the opinion that we should put all our resources towards buying the technology we need to extract the data from the tricorder. I have already begun to formulate a schematic and diagrams for the necessary circuit boards, given the technology I believe we may be able to obtain.

We have promised her that we will pay her back, but she simply smiled and told us not to worry and take our time. This is what makes me suspect her—I did not wish to be indebted to her so deeply. Furthermore, her motivations for this illogical act of kindness are completely unknown to me. Is it an act of kindness at all? I am not familiar with the nuances of this era’s customs. Jim is not worried. For some reason, he trusts Edith Keeler. They communicated, or rather, attempted to communicate. Jim used broken pre-Warp E and hand gestures to communicate with her, while Ms. Keeler tried to interpret his message.

“You’re not from around here, are you? Where are you from? Maybe Germany?”

Jim simply nodded. “Came here for to find, uhm—“ he searched for the pre-Warp E word.

“A friend,” I supplied.

“A friend,” Jim repeated. “Missing. Sick. Needs help.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope you find him. Let me know if I can help in any way.”

“Thanks. Thanks for all done for us.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I have some gay friends and they’ve told me how hard it can be to get started in the city, even though they can be themselves here. I just wanted to help you two to stand on your own two feet.”

Jim gave me a sidelong glance. He shrugged. Ms. Keeler took it to mean that he didn’t understand what she was saying.

“Oh, how should I say this. You can speak English—can you tell your boyfriend that I just wanted to help? I know it’s a little strange, me putting down the money for rent for you, but I trust you. I can’t explain how I know, but you’re going to change the world. That sounds silly, doens’t it? I’m not explaining myself well at all. My friends tell me I’m much too trusting and I try to help too many people, but I’m not naive. You’re different. Like you don’t belong in this world.”

Jim straightened.

“Interesting. Where would you estimate that we belong, Ms. Keeler?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”


“She believes us to be lovers.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. Do you?”

I looked at Jim. He was sprawled out on the bed. When I did not answer him immediately, he raised himself up onto his elbows and looked at me.

“You do?”

“No. I simply wanted to ensure that you were not discomfited by the suggestion.”

Jim grinned, then lowered himself back on the bed. “Nope.”

A comfortable silence settled between us. I turned my attention to the tricorder. The data we need is locked inside its memory banks, utterly inaccessible at the moment.

“How much longer till Bones gets here?”

“Several months, captain, at the least. Though I do not believe we will have to wait a full year. For a machine as advanced as the Guardian, it is remarkable that it is incapable fine-tuning the rate at which it goes through time.”

“Pain in the ass, that’s what it is.”


“Do we have any idea where he’ll show up? Honolulu, Boise, San Diego? Why not outer Mongolia, for that matter?”

“We will have to find a means by which to locate the doctor,” I tried to find a back door access point for the data in the tricorder again. “Frustrating. Locked in here are the place and moment of his arrival, even the images of what he did. If even one of the ship’s computers were available to me, for a few moments.”

“They’ve got computers. Why don’t you build one with they’ve got here? I’ll help.”

“In this silicon plated, micro-chip culture? Jim, they have not yet successfully implemented their carbon based semiconductors to create the first quant-core nanoprocessor. They likely have not developed symmetric multiprocessing to its fullest potential. The datapads these Terrans carry are enormous and likely have limited computational power. I imagine the devices are extremely inefficient. As far as I can gather, they have not yet discovered N-ffts’ law of heat recycling. They use fans to cool their computers.”

“Yeah, that’d be an extremely complex problem in logic, Spock,” Jim said seriously, though his face betrayed his feelings. “Sorry. Sometimes I expect way too much of you.”

I gave him a look.

“How much time till work?”

“Two hours.”

“I’m gonna take a nap,” Jim pulled his coat around him. We had no blankets—the apartment was completely bare except for our few belongings. “Wake me up in forty minutes. I’ll take a quick shower—do we have soap?”


“Whatever. I’ll take a shower anyway, then we’ll head out, how’s that sound.”

“I will walk around to see if there any stores.”

“Stores? For what?”

“Computer supplies, and so forth. My hobby.”

“Your hobby,” Jim grinned. “Great. I approve of hobbies, Spock.”

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Obviously, 2009's Edith Keeler would think they are lovers. If Jim and Spock appeared in front of me I'd think that too *coughs*

How the hell are they so cute?


... the magic of spaaaaaaeeeeccccce. :D

Space is a miracle, or so I hear. XD

I really can't add anything here, the two comments before mine say it all. :D

I love that they think our computers are primitive. Fans to cool them indeed. I remember floppy disks, and having to insert your program disk and then replace it with a blank disk if you actually wanted to save something. What are these hard drives you speak of? LOL.

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I just love the idea of Spock saying he has a hobby. I've seen the original TOS episode, but I like picture Quinto saying it as Spock, lol. I can just see the look of almost distaste on his face as he does. Hee!

...Am I the only worried about Zachary Quinto...in New York City...which will be blown up in a nuclear attack sometime in the future?

After watching Heroes for the first time, rereading this part of the story suddenly seems a lot more...disquieting.

I love how our technology is so primitive to them. It makes me think of a commercial that ends with "It's the Elder. He who speaks of floppy disks." Lol

You can speak English—can you tell your boyfriend that I just wanted to help?
~Hooray, Keeler is a fangirl!

“She believes us to be lovers.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. Do you?”

~Kirk, are you warming up to the idea? Hm...

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