Heaven is Bloodless, Epilogue and Notes

[caitri]

Masterpost

The Enterprize is a sturdy vessel, already packed for the long voyage ahead of them. The crew is well-mannered and polite, and if they take any surprise that their Captain is Jim Kirk instead of Samuel Kirok, they don’t show it.

The voyage back to Terre d’Ange is easy: surprisingly so, all clear skies and swift winds. Bones isn’t sick at all, and spends most of his time in the small surgery aboard, yelling at sailors for incompetence at this mashed finger or that cut from the nets. “And drink your thrice damned lime juice, you want to keep your teeth, don’t you?”

“Aye, sir, I do, sir!” The men would be terrified, except that by the time they are almost home, most of them are healthier than they were when they started the journey.

Jim and Bones share the Captain’s cabin, and he does not dream of old memories. Joanna sleeps in a hammock, and thinks it’s the best thing ever. Rand terrorizes half the crew into submission and the other half plan to court her as soon as they reach dry land again. Pavel and Hikaru spend more time at the wheel than not, and Scotty is found to have somehow become the master of the crewmen below decks.

Jim can’t imagine ever giving this up, any of it.

They’re a week from home when they finally have The Conversation.

Bones is the one who brings it up. “What’s going on in your head, Jim?” he says one night after their dinner in the Captain’s Mess.

Jim takes a deep breath. He’s been dreading this, but—“I—I think I want to stay, Bones,” he says slowly. “Here. On the ship, I mean. I don’t want to go back to—I’m not saying this right.”

Bones nods his head patiently. “Take your time, kid,” is all he says.

His heart feels like it’s being squeezed, his palms are sweaty, and Jim vaguely recognizes that he’s terrified. “All my life, I’ve been running,” he says slowly, “one way or another. I ran away from my master on the galley, and when I was with Pike, I was always after something, you know? Information, or an assignation, or both. And then since—since then I’ve been trying to get away, and it’s only now that I feel like I’m something at peace, you know?” He feels like he’s babbling, and when he concludes it feels like he’s snapping his jaw closed on the question. “I’ve missed it,” he says more quietly when Bones remains silent.

His consort makes an amused sound.

“I’m not kidding. I think I’ve missed this, Bones.” Jim takes a deep breath of air, thick with salt and sea. “And I wouldn’t ask you to come with me, or Joanna either—”

“Wouldn’t ask?” Bones echoes, then, outraged. “Wouldn’t ask? Blessed Elua, Jim, we swore—don’t you know—“ He grabs Jim roughly, pressing their lips together, and Jim is overcome with relief and affection for the man. He grips him tight, and Bones stands back to glare at him: a hot look that softens as he takes Jim in. “Foolish boy,” he mutters, assuaged. He pulls Jim close once more. “Wouldn’t ask.”

“I love you so much,” Jim mutters into his consort’s neck, because he knows this means that Bones is coming with him, and Joanna too, and—it’ll somehow be like the life he should have had.

The healer chuckles, low and deep, and Jim feels warm with relief and that slow delight in the other man. “I know, kid.”

“You’re amazing, Bones, you know that, right?” He shakes his head, can feel the moisture standing in his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re actually going with me.”

“Whither thou goest, Jim,” Bones murmurs in his ear, “Always.” And they listen to the sound of the waves, carrying them ever onwards.


And there was silence in Heaven and in Terre d'Ange, while blessed Elua's blood fell upon the soil and scarlet anemones bloomed, and his children and his children's children did watch and marvel. And for the first time in many thousands of years did Earth speak to Her once-husband, and say, "It may be done. Let us create it together, You and I." This was done, and such a thing has not happened since.
--Earth Begotten


Author’s Gratuitous Notes

The Rebbe’s book is inspired by the Eliot Bible, one of the earliest books printed in the New World and the first translation of the text into a Native American language—in this case, Algonquin. It did not contain a grammar but was instead printed phonetically for the missionaries who would be using it. I happened to be looking at our copy in the library recently and saw it was owned by one David Francis. I thought that a most excellent sign. *G*

John Gill, historian, with the villain Melakon appeared in the TOS episode “Patterns of Force.”

Paradisi in Sole is another historical text, much as described.

Miramanee’s family and nickname of Little Mischief and so forth are straightforwardly stolen from one of the few Native American women documented by Western culture: Pocahontas. Her half-brothers Pamouic, Nantaquas, Parahunt, Tatacoope, and Taux are less documented.

The particulars of Algonquin religion are drawn from an essay by Charles Edgar Gilliam on Powhatan Sun worship, and in particular the tensions between the Algonquin and the early British colonists from an article by Jenny Hale Pulsipher called “Masacre at Hurtleberry Hill: Christian Indians and English Authority in Metacom’s War.” (Coincidence between Melakon and Metacom? Yep.) The political situation altogether with the colonists and the Algonquin is loosely adapted from the circumstances of King Philip’s War, which was a predominantly religious conflict precipitated by deadly fevers on both sides. It ended with the decimation of the “praying Indians.” I obviously tweaked the ending of that history because I’m shit with completely unhappy endings. This story was meant to be a post colonialist critique, though I suspect I failed pretty spectacularly. So it goes.