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[February 16, 1968] In their words (Star Trek: "Return to Tomorrow")

This week's review is a little bit different–for the first time, we've gotten the characters themselves to comment on the episode!  We think you'll find their thoughts most illuminating…


Sargon

Would that I could return us back to that yesterday those hundreds of eons ago.  Back when I possessed the hubris to decide that the best, brightest, and most wealthy of our people were worthy of surviving the calamity that had destroyed our people and our planet.  Mercifully, entropy mostly corrected my error in judgment and took the majority of those I sought to preserve.  All that remained were Henoch, a brilliant and driven member of the ruling class, Thalassa, a woman of unparalleled talent who was my wife, and me, the man who created the means for us to outlive all we have ever known.  My name was Sargon.

Although our people excelled in power, reaching the pinnacles of science, technology, body, mind, and spirit, we were unable to save our planet.  Some of us sent out space vessels to seed other worlds.  The rest of us remained behind to fight our world’s demise.  We failed.  So, we few transferred our consciousness to receptacles; our lives and days as living breathing beings came to an end.  In our haste to preserve ourselves, we failed again, storing our consciousnesses successfully, but lacking any physical means to return us to any likeness of our yesterday.  Nevertheless, the years have given me and the others all nature of powers as we’ve continued to develop our minds without bodies.


What was left of us.

The day of our hope came when my mind, able to reach far out into the cosmos, touched them, touched him.  Humans.  Scientists.  Explorers.  So much like us that I suspect them to be kin to us.  From their minds I deduced a way to call them to us.  I knew they would help us willingly given the right motivation.  Whether that motivation was the safety of their vessel, the desire for new knowledge, or the will to avoid enslavement, they would help us.  Their leader, Kirk, a brave and solid man, would help us. 


The object of my call–suspicious, but not so obstreperous as he had been to other beings who had seized his ship.

The problem I faced was first that these people would never knowingly help me end the lives of myself and my companions.  Also, that Thalassa and Henoch had not yet come to the same conclusion that I had.  That our continued existence would bring about ruin to these new worlds of people.  Returning to the mistakes we made in our yesterday would pervert and eventually destroy the tomorrow that these beings should live.  So in order to end the continued existence of my people and preserve the future of Kirk’s people I developed a plan to motivate my people and Kirk’s.  For me and mine, what would be more motivating than returning to living bodies?  For Kirk’s people, the promise of our technology in exchange for temporary use of their bodies. 


The android forms I knew would be unpalatable to my companions.

When I inhabited Kirk’s body, he would come to know my good intent for him and his people, but not my every thought.  This was important since I would not be able to remain in it for long periods of time.  For Thalassa I found a suitable woman, so much like she was in our yesterday.  I feared for Henoch’s intentions. 

Knowing that he might not come to see the danger that we posed to these beings, for him we would hide the truth of his mind from the humans.  The Vulcan among them would serve as a vessel that should contain Henoch long enough for my plan to work.  Preventing Henoch interfering while hopefully allowing Thalassa to come to understand my way.

This endeavor would reveal temptations, even for me.  Knowing it would be good to feel again, even for a short while.  But, like Kirk, I would not divert from the path that I have chosen.  I would prevent the resurrection of yesterday and the troubles we would cause.  I would return these humans to the tomorrow that should exist for them.  And with that as my final thought, I sent a Priority One Distress Call to the humans.

If it be not hubris, I give four stars for this episode of our unlife.


Thalassa

We spent 500,000 years asleep, waiting to be awoken and to return to our lives. I remember asking my husband why we simply didn’t cross the vastness of space as we had before, gathering material to build new bodies for ourselves. He told me that it was too late. I did not understand what that meant.

Encountering the humans was like looking into the distant past. I was reminded of what it was to be able to laugh when Sargon awoke me to observe the engineer and the doctor exchanging pithy and sarcastic observations. Dr. McCoy in particular had many amusing things to say.

With all of our power, of course we could have built androids that could feel. According to the ship’s records, even the human Dr. Roger Korby succeeded in doing so, using far more primitive tools than we could craft. But Sargon insisted that we must not give in to temptation, and the only way to prevent it was the path he outlined: a cold and sterile one. It was not until I found myself torturing the earnest Dr. McCoy that I realized Sargon was right.


A return to monstrous ways.

For we would have used our powers to make ourselves gods. Not kind or benevolent gods, but capricious and cruel ones. And so the last hope was gone. We failed Sargon’s test, and the price was our lives. It was the right choice to make. Three stars left behind in the cosmos, for Enoch, Sargon, and myself.


Henoch

I have to say, it was a bit of a bummer to spend half a million years trapped in a ball, only to be tricked out of a life of Godhood.  Of course, one wonders why I ever consented to be archived in the first place, given how incorrigible I was.  Certainly, I didn't change my ways after an eon of reflection, nor after my entire planet was destroyed by hubris.  Actually, the reason is simple: once I got into that superb Vulcan physique, surrounded by beautiful (and competent) women, well, how could I resist?


"Well, hello."

The best practical joke I got to play in my brief time of freedom was contorting poor Mr. Spock's face into great displays of emotion.  Sure, he's betrayed emotion before, under the effects of spores and long-chain molecules, but never has he been so casually flirtatious, so smugly sardonic, so deliciously satanic.  I must pat myself on the back.  Or, at least, I would…if I still had a back.

The flood of senses I so briefly enjoyed seemed to lend cinematography and even soundtrack to my every nefarious move.  I was reminded of the rare but innovative angles employed by the 20th Century TV director Ralph Senensky, and the artful strains produced by composer George Duning.  The clever quips that were wholly my own creation were as good as anything TV writer John T. Dugan could have come up with.  (If you're wondering how I am so conversant with ancient broadcast personalities, remember I briefly shared a soul with the walking encyclopedia that is Spock).

Really, I don't regret too much about this episode of my life–except for that damned goody-goody Sargon and that lightweight of a captain whose body he took over.  Kirk must have been so thrilled at the prospect of surrendering his slab of a figure–you could. tell. by. the. way. he. paused. after. every. word.  And then the way Sargon felt up his purloined pectorals…and they call me obscene!


I mean, really…

Finally, while I might respect the skills of the Enterprise's chief engineer, who picked up my technical expertise much faster than I'd thought a primitive could, I still couldn't stand talking to him for any length of time.  His voice reminded me too much of Sargon's.


Fortunately, he was more interested in our littler Tinker-toys than Thalassa.

Oh, I need to rate this bit of my life as well as talk about it?  Fine.  Three and a half stars.  It'd be four if it weren't for weird ol' Captain Kirk.


I know Shatner is proud of his turn in Judgment at Nuremberg, but this may be going a bit too far the other way…

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