Lines: 353 X-Admin: n...@aol.com From: goji...@aol.comendspam (Rob Morris) Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Date: 28 Jun 2004 13:34:06 GMT Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Subject: NEW, TOS/??? Pre-TOS, Edith Keeler, PG, 1/1, And That Day May Never Come Message-ID: <20040628093406.05846.00000818@mb-m05.aol.com> Title : And That Day May Never Come Author : Rob Morris Contact : goji...@aol.comendspam Archive : www.southroad.com/brightfame Series : TOS Xover Type : Pre-TOS history Characters : Edith Keeler, ??? Part : 1/1 Rating : PG Summary : The woman who holds the future fate of the galaxy in her hands meets -------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------- And That Day May Never Come by Rob Morris NEW YORK CITY, EARLY 1930 Edith Keeler's family accountant was arrogant and a male chavunist, but he was out to protect her. His locking out, as per her grandfather's will, of her remaining fortune was to make sure that she would live comfortably into her middle and old age. It also placed the future of her charity work into immediate peril. The man before her could alleviate that peril, and more importantly, he could do so any number of times, and he made it clear he wanted nothing in return for it. The only cost would be to her soul. "Miss Keeler. It is a great pleasure to meet with you. In these sorry times, the small hope offered by places like yours will make all the difference." Edith could tell that this man, unlike so many of his peers, was not at all impressed with himself, or with his own power. His home was humble, yet it had a lordly grace. The man was powerful enough that he could dispense with looking like or walking like a king, so long as he was a king. "I will admit, sir, that I was greatly surprised to hear of your offer. I had thought my place and my efforts beneath the attention of gentlemen such as yourself." But if one was not born a king, then he made himself a king in a certain way, and this was in a path strewn with bodies. The only good word about this man was that he more often than not did not seek out conflict. But he did move in a manner so decisive when it came, that those who had thought that a simple punch to his portly stomach would bring him low were only left with time to let their eyes grow wide before the end came. "I try not to let anything lie beneath my notice, Miss Keeler. My attention was particularly drawn by word of the price that you exact from those you feed and board." "My price, sir? I merely ask that they hear a few words of hope. A remedy to what you quite properly called these sorry times." The man gestured in front of his own face with his fingers in a brushing motion. "I meant no offense, of course. I consider it a price, for that is how I think of these things. But even taken as such, I consider what you ask to be a small price to pay, and also a just and a fair one as well. I took the liberty of having a young man I regard as my own son listen in on one of your speeches. He made notes of what you said, and he also made me aware that it was quite stirring." Edith tried not to show fear. But she had apparently not only drawn this man's attention, she was firmly in his sights, and hadn't even realized it. "The feeble musings of a girl brought up in too much wealth, sir. Perhaps it gives to me an optimism that those of humbler present means may lack the ability to call upon." He held up the cashier's check, and now looked a little upset. "Madame, I have not once insulted you, or your intelligence. Do not insult mine. I am going to ask you to say four or six words. If I do not think that you have said the truth, I will withdraw my offer and shred this check before your eyes. Now, I ask you to say four words if yes, and six words if no. Are you ready?" Edith was scared, but not for her life or for a donation lost. Could he really know, she wondered? "Ask." He held the check as if to tear it. "You have the gift." Edith considered the empty stomachs and roofless nights of the worthy and of the worthless. She answered in the only way that had been allowed for her. "I have the gift." The check was handed over without another word. Edith put it away, and asked a question of her own. "How could you know?" He smiled, looking actually a bit charming as he did. "My dear lady--how could I not?" Edith's eyes went a bit wide. "You?" He got up from his desk, and walked over to a bucket of ice. He then filled a glass with ice and some simple water. "They all think of me as this shark who gets others drunk, and keeps dry for himself. But alcohol makes seeing ahead much harder. You start to see what you want to, instead of what you need to. I am a good judge of people, and very often, they are all too easy to read. But this helps. At least it helps sometimes. When I was a small boy in Sicily, they said that I was stupid. But I did not speak because I saw, from the moment I could think, how my father, brother, and mother would die. I saw myself, as a grown man, take vengeance on the mongrels that had done these things. Stupid? What words would a boy have for seeing this?" Edith spoke words she would not even speak to her one great love, a man mere weeks from arriving in her time. "I was taken and held in a facility for the troubled. During the Great War, when the boys on their way to the front passed in review as they left for the continent, I would shriek uncontrollably. I would see some of them headless, some split in half, eviscerated or choked by gas. I learned after that to use euphemisms when describing the things I will see. My audience at the mission is a captive one, and not apt to report me to mental health authorities." The powerful man drew up water for Edith, as well. "When you spoke of ships traversing the stars, I knew then. But it always gets vague after that. I see a second moon, except that it is square and made of wires. I see men made of pudding, but they pose as people like ourselves. At times--I even see the Beast Of Revelations." "Sir--is there something more you wish of me?" He nodded. As he kept on speaking, his accent lessened and the natural huskiness of his voice broke somewhat. "I have learned that no one with the gift may see that much of the fate that surrounds them. I would ask that we make readings of one another, while understanding that ours is not a precise art. I will not be angry with you, if you are wrong, and I expect the same courtesy back again." Edith was both relieved and put off. While she could be open at last about her gift, to share it with this particular man was no great comfort. "I must warn you, sir. My reading of business matters--or the actions of potential business rivals-- has proven to be very poor." "For my business concerns, I ask nothing of you, Miss Keeler. In fact, if you told me that you could predict what my rivals might do, then I would know you to be a liar. For you see, when business such as ours begins to transact, the most gifted reader on Earth would be of no use. Things--they just start to happen, then." If her host were talking down to Keeler, she found that she had no desire whatsoever to have him talk plainly, as it concerned any business he might have. She readied herself. "Ask what you will." He did just that, starting with one of a handful of things all people would ask, if only they could. "How will I die?" Edith imagined an exquisite silken curtain was in her hands, luxuriant to the touch yet at the same time best left untouched, for the most part, even as she pulled it aside. "While tending your garden and calling out to a misbehaving grandchild." The man's smile was much fuller now. "Really? I mean, that's it?" He sat down, looking like a man given a reprieve instead of the news of his end. "I could never have imagined. Peace. There would have to be peace for that to happen. I will see peace. Dear lady, I thank you. Now, let me ask next? Who will be the head of my family, after I am gone?" Edith saw an image of God's Chief Archangel fighting with Lucifer. But the image became badly jumbled, and she suddenly could not tell who was who. "Michael?" From near-ecstasy, Edith's host moved to a look of purest rage, clearing his desk in one angry motion, then slamming his hand down while roaring. "THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE! I WOULD NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS ALLOW HIM TO GET PULLED IN TO ALL THIS!!! HOW CAN YOU SAY SUCH A THING?" Edith was shaking, and she could not be at all certain she hadn't soiled herself. Her host seemed equally horrified. By all accounts a brutal man when he needed to be, he also prided himself as a gentleman, even when he was shown disrespect, something Keeler had not done. He wiped himself off, drank more water, and then presented Edith with a second check he'd had ready for reasons only he knew. "I broke my promise to you. Usually, my word is my bond. Let this be my penance. Please?" Edith took it, and put it away with the other, but not before sweat stains were visible on the paper. "Sir--I think that I should leave." "I understand. But first, let me tell you of what I see for you." "I---I--please do. And then I must go." Gently and with tenderness, he took her hand. "Governor Roosevelt will become our next President. I see you talking with him, spreading your ideas of charity and stopping our country's involvement in another European war. Your life will affect many, many millions in ways we cannot imagine. Also, you will soon meet a man as no other, and you will fall in love. He will be there as your destiny takes hold of you, and he will ensure that it does. I believe his name is Jacob Church, but I am not sure. Now, my dear. Depart and do what you must. Peace is a great thing, and never greater than when the time for it is right." Her host then kissed Edith on each cheek, tenderly but not in a lewd or predatory way. He seemed sad, and to truly regret his outburst. After stopping for cake and coffee with his wife, Edith left and her host returned to his office. Soon he was joined by one of his employees, a gaunt man who was not as old as he looked, his stature and dignity aside. "Why her?" "Are you refusing to do it?" "Sir, you have to know I would never refuse or betray you." The man looked out at the night sky. It was a sky whose future would soon lose one of its best prophets. "I know that you would never refuse me, Sal. But why would you object to what I ask?" Sal shook his head. "Her mission does good work. Last year, my cousin's family would have starved, if not for Edith Keeler. Sir, so many socialite phonies are out there. She's for real. Has she insulted you?" "No. See, Sal? Its a rotten world, and she's too good to live in it without making it worse. But don't make her suffer, and moreso than usual, make it look like it was an accident. The mission will continue its work, and under her name. This I swear." Grimly, Sal nodded, and realized he would have to map out this poor dear woman's travel patterns, the better to stage the 'accident' that even his employer seemed not to truly want. "It will be as you say, Don Corleone." -------------------------------------------- "Your would-be attackers don't like you. Your would-be rescuers don't like you. Harry, *most* people don't like you." - Peter Kirk to Harry Mudd, 'Lawful Warrant' NewMessage: