In the twenty-first century: Years before the formal first contact that would be recorded in Earth's history, a Vulcan space vessel crash-lands in the South Pacific, forcing humanity to decide whether to offer the hand of friendship, or the fist of war. Complicating matters is a second visitation: a group of people from two hundred years in the future, who serve on a starship called Enterprise....
In the twenty-third century: A new novel called Strangers from the Sky reveals the truth about this heretofore unknown first contact. Reading the novel leads to nightmares that torment Admiral James T. Kirk -- dreams of his dead comrades, Gary Mitchell, Lee Kelso, and Elizabeth Dehner, from his earliest days aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise™; visions of a forgotten past in which he somehow changed the course of history and destroyed the Federation before it began.
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Pocket Books/Star Trek
July 24, 2006
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Adobe DRM EPUB
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Excerpt from Strangers From The Sky by Margaret Wander Bonanno
Tatya raised herself on one elbow and gaped through the sleeping-room port at the night sky, her china-blue eyes wide. She hadn't imagined it.
"Yoshi? Yoshi, wake up. Look!"
He was sleeping on his stomach as usual, stirred and groaned, tried to burrow deeper under the thermal quilt, but Tatya shook him again. He pushed himself up on his elbows and vaulted out of the waterbed in a single graceful movement, padded across the floor to stand before the wide port in all his lean, golden nakedness.
"It's a meteor," he muttered, one hand holding his long black hair out of his eyes. "All day in the outback mending fences and you wake me for a stray meteor. Tatya, for gods' sake?"
"It's not a meteor," Tatya said emphatically. Lord knew they saw enough of those out here where the sky was two-thirds of their world. She stood at the port beside Yoshi, naked too no one but fish to gawk at them this far out?as broad as he was narrow, as pale as he was golden, her heavy blond hair in two plaits down her back. She pointed to where the strange light moved down the arc of the sky. "It's not bright enough, and it's moving too slowly. Steadily, not tumbling. Like it's on a set course. It's a ship, Yoshi."
"AeroNav would have signaled us if there'd been an accident." Yoshi yawned, dived back into the warm nest they'd made among the bedclothes. "It's a meteor. Or space junk. Somebody's antiquated satellite come hurtling down on our heads. It'll be all over the screen tomorrow. 'FAILURE OF SALVAGE OP; VITAL DATA LOST OVER SOUTH PACIFIC.'"
He considered putting the pillow over his head, as if that would protect him from things falling out of the sky.
"One of these days something'll hit us square on, you'll see. 'KELP FARM STATION OBLITERATED, TWO DEAD.' Wasn't enough we tried to destroy the ecology down here. Now we're cluttering up the whole solar system."
"Cynic!" Tatya clucked, crawling back into the bed beside him.
The strange orangish glow across the royal-blue bowl of mid-ocean starscape was gone now. Maybe it was only a meteor or space junk, but it had been awfully close; AeroNav should have warned them. Tatya imagined she could have heard its hiss and plop as it hit the water.
Silly, she knew, but perched on a tiny platform kilometers from nowhere, surrounded by acres of undulating kelp and in the company of only one other person, one got to thinking sometimes. Only those with unshakable psych profiles were assigned to the outlying agronomy posts; the screening was almost as rigid as that for deep space. Tatya and Yoshi were optimally matched and well adjusted to the isolation. Still?
There was a feeble movement among the bedclothes.