Star Trek Into Darkness Page 0,62
it bored him to do so yet again, he deigned to explain himself.
“I am a remnant of a time long past. Genetically engineered to be superior so as to lead others to peace in a world at war.” He looked away. “But I and my companions were condemned as criminals. Forced into exile. For centuries we slept, hoping that when we awoke, things would be . . . different. Always these vain hopes.”
Spock interrupted. “You imply that you too were in cryostasis?”
The prisoner gifted Spock with a nod of approval and smiled at Kirk. “He’s smart.” Looking away from the captain, Harrison turned his attention to the science officer. “If your planet had not been annihilated, I would still be asleep. But as a result of the destruction of Vulcan, your Starfleet began to search distant quadrants of space more aggressively than before. They found my ship adrift. I alone was revived, after which I was able to learn about the destruction of Vulcan and . . . many other things.”
Kirk listened to it all, the look on his face indicating that everything he was hearing might very well be the elaborate invention of a disturbed mind. Or a sheer fabrication being dispensed by a clear mind. Either way . . .
“I looked up John Harrison,” Kirk told him. “Up until a year ago, he didn’t exist.”
It was the prisoner’s turn to move close to the barrier. All that separated the two men now was a laminated layer of malleable corundum-silicate glass.
“‘John Harrison’ was a fiction created the moment I was awoken by your Admiral Marcus to help him advance his cause. A smoke screen, a nonexistent reality, an imagined self, all concocted to conceal my true identity. Because it would not have gone well for your admiral had my true name become known at the time of my revival. Some curious ensign might have decided, in a moment of boredom, to run a search on it. Then everything might have become . . . difficult.” He paused, smiled, and went silent.
For a long moment, it was as if he were no longer present. As if his thoughts, if not his physical self, were focused on a time, place, and events long ago and far away. An impatient Kirk was about to comment anew when the prisoner finally came back to where he was, and to himself. He moved to stand directly opposite Kirk on the other side of the glass. For a long moment they regarded one another silently: captor and prisoner. Finally the man in the brig spoke once more.
“My name is . . . Khan.”
“I’ll accept that much as truth,” Kirk replied carefully. “For now. Pardon my cynicism, but why would a Starfleet admiral need a three-hundred-year-old frozen man to help him do anything?”
The individual who had until now called himself Harrison gave an indifferent shrug. “Because I am . . . better. Better for your admiral’s purpose than anything—than anyone—else.”
“Better?” Kirk’s expression contorted. “Better at what?”
“Everything.” This was spoken not as a boast, but as a matter of fact by one who knew it to be so. “Alexander Marcus believed he needed to respond to an uncivilized threat in a civilized time, and for that, he needed someone less civilized. He needed a warrior’s mind. A mind dedicated to combat, to winning, to surviving at all costs. He needed my mind. He needed . . . me.”
The prisoner’s story found Mister Spock at least as unconvinced as Kirk. “You are suggesting that the admiral violated every regulation he vowed to uphold simply because he wanted to exploit your intellect?”
Khan was not offended by the Vulcan’s skepticism. After all, his was a truly remarkable tale. When presented to others, incredulity was to be expected. He could only hope to counter disbelief with truth. Whether others accepted it or not meant nothing in the end. The truth would remain in spite of their doubt.
“He wanted to exploit my savagery. Intellect alone is useless in a fight, Mr. Spock. As a Vulcan, you should know that.”
Spock’s expression did not change, but only Khan noticed the slight tensing of the science officer’s hands. “I was well trained in the military arts, and I assure you that should the need arise, I am fully capable of handling myself in matters of physical combat—as was only recently the case.”
“Mr. Spock, I’m not talking about training. I’m not talking about the application of learned skills. I’m certain if it came out of a