Summary: In 2269 an archaeologist digging in the ruins of the Bodie mine on Earth discovers skeletal remains dating to 1876. On the wrist of the dead man, who is wearing a green jacket, is an alien device. Its discovery sends the crew of the Enterprise into the past to Ben Cartwright’s Ponderosa where the eddies of time and an alien menace are moving together to doom Ben’s youngest son.

Rated: PG-13   (77,500 words)

The Curse of Bodie – A Bonanza-Star Trek Crossover

Rating based on western violence and adult situations

All known and public characters belong to those who created them.  All new characters belong to the author.  There is no intent to infringe on copyright and no money is being made – just friends and warm hearts hopefully!

The Curse of Bodie

PROLOGUE – 1964

The lone figure of a man occupied the middle of a dusty thoroughfare.  A tempest was upon him, both inward and outward.  The wind howled, keening like a banshee as his mind whirled, calculating, dismissing, assessing, deciding.  The strong breeze worked at displacing the hat firmly anchored on his head and lifted the edges of the long dark coat he wore, giving it life and flight, making it look more like the membrane-thin wings of a bat than any kind of cloth.  As he stood there the appropriately named tumbleweeds tumbled by, making much better progress than the curious stranger did.  He fought a sigh, for a sigh was a dangerous thing.  It gave a man hope and snatched it away just as quickly.  The man in black closed his eyes and fought to focus his thoughts, seeking to link ideas with a commonality.

Hope.  It was a foreign thing to him, dismissed as easily as pain and love and…guilt.

Guilt.

No good could come of guilt.  He’d told someone that not long ago.  It stripped a man of action, of the ability to think clearly; of the capacity to think of anything other than an action or choice that had been made and could not be unmade.

His near-black eyes flew open.

Forgotten.  What had he forgotten?

Jim.

Joe.

The stranger turned to face the row of empty buildings before him.  The land they occupied was dry as the bones of the old ones and the storm that had come upon it so unexpectedly sucked out what little life it had left; chewing it up and spitting it out with no more regard than the tons of rock that had pounded down uncaring, sealing the fate of the man he sought to save.  No, the man he had saved.

Had he saved him?

No.

Removing his hat, the lean man lifted his face to the sky and allowed the wind to play through his chin-length martial-straight raven-black hair briefly before replacing it, relishing the one hundred plus degrees of heat that beat down on his head, comforting him as surely as the fires of home.  Looking at the sky, he thought of the ship that should be sailing there, and of the man who belonged in the captain’s chair.

Was he the one he sought here in this time?  Was it Jim?

Or was it Joe?

Either way, it was imperative he reach him.

“Mister?”

The voice startled him.  He felt shame at that.

Then he felt shame at feeling.

“Yes?”

“Can I help you?  You look kind of lost.”

The man’s near-black eyes narrowed as they locked on the newcomer.  It took a moment but he recognized him as some sort of lawman and pronounced him harmless.  “I am in need of some assistance,” he admitted.

“Are you one of the reenactors here for the pageant?” the ranger asked.  “If you are, that’s a great costume.”

The man looked at the black garb that covered him.  “This is my current attire.”

The lawman nodded…slowly.  “Okay. Well maybe you’re looking for the tourist office then?  If you are,” he said, pointing, ‘it’s over there.”  He looked at his wristwatch.  “You’ve got about fifteen minutes before it closes.”

While he was not prone to prevarication, it would be easier to accept the young man’s scenario than to contest it.

“Thank you.  I will endeavor to make it there before that happens.”

“We’ve got a ghost walk later tonight, if you’re interested.  It goes down in the old Bodie mine.  We’ll meet at the saloon over there at midnight.”

The Bodie Mine….Bodie.  He had been there hadn’t he?

Or was he yet to arrive?

“Perhaps another day,”  he said at last.  “I have someone I have to…meet.”

The man raised a hand to shield his eyes and looked at him askance.  “You aren’t thinking of taking off into the desert are you?  The sun will be down in an hour.  It’s dangerous out there no matter what, but deadly at night.”  He glanced toward the sky.  “Let alone with this storm blowing up.”

More dangerous that you know, the man thought to himself.  “It is not my intention to cross the desert,” he replied, knowing full well he could have and would have had no difficulty surviving the journey.  His training as a boy assured him of that.

“You looking for a hotel then?  I imagine there’s a room available at the Bodie Victorian.  We’re on our off-season now, since it’s so hot.”  The young man grinned.  “You look like a weather-beaten gunslinger, you should like it there.”

The man told the truth.  He most certainly did look like a desperado.  He was attired from head to foot in black and wore a black hat pulled low over his ears and eyes.  His coat was what was known as a duster, chosen to conceal some of the weapons he carried beneath it as well as to lend bulk to his bone-thin frame thereby rendering him slightly more intimidating.  On his hip there was a sling that contained a Colt revolver he had no intention of using.

“Thank you.  If you would….”

At first the lawman looked confused.  Then, “Oh! Right, the hotel.  It’s down this street at the end.  Can’t miss it. 281 Main Street.”

He inclined his head.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” the man said with a smile.

The stranger blinked, confused.  “One more thing, if I may?”

“Sure.”

“Where am I?”

The other man eyed him.  “You sure you haven’t been in the sun too long?”

He nodded.

“I just told you.  You’re in Bodie.”

“Ah, yes.  I need to be in….  I need to find the Ponderosa.  Can you direct me there?”

The lawman grinned.  “You an extra?”

“An ‘extra’ what?” he inquired, one black eyebrow cocked.

“On the show.”

Again, it was easier to acquiesce.  “Yes.”

“The word’s out their filming at Lake Tahoe day after tomorrow.  That where you’re headed?”

Once again he nodded.

“I’ll tell you what, go to the station at the edge of town, the one on the southern side.  The man behind the counter can direct you.  He does some stunt work from time to time.”

“How far is it?”

“It’s about  two and a half hours north of here,” he laughed.  “Maybe more if the wagons are running slow.”  The lawman was still watching him, as if attempting to discern whether or not he was in his right mind.

A discernment he would welcome knowledge of as well.

“You’re gonna spend the night here.  Right?”

Absentmindedly, he nodded.

The lawman opened his mouth to question him again, but a hail from across the street drew his attention.  He returned it with a wave.  “That’s Bill.  We’re prepping for the ghost walk.  I gotta go.  You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I am…well.”

Seemingly satisfied, the young man tipped his hat and jogged across the street to join his coworker, tossing a ‘Take care of yourself.  Hope to see you again!’off as he went.

It was doubtful.

Lieutenant Commander Spock, late of the Starship Enterprise, hesitated, waiting for his path to clear before moving on.  The two men were standing, talking to another pale young man with pale blond or white hair.  He appeared to be asking directions and the answers had him looking his way.  Pulling his hat over his eyes, Spock melted into the shadows cast by one of the empty buildings.  Leaning against it, he paused to gather his strength.

This was the last leg of a long journey that had taken him from the twenty-third century to the nineteenth and, now, to the twentieth.  He had failed in every time and every level.  But he would not fail here.  He would rescue the young man upon whom the fate of worlds depended and return the time stream to its proper order.  And in doing so, he would – he must – find his friend.

Even if it meant he would never return home again.