The memories slowed. A glass ball took shape amidst the images. Dark and foreboding, it exerted a subtle call. Gandalf’s thoughts tensed. Curious. What manner of object could discomfort the powerful wizard?

Gentle probing dispelled the shadows to reveal a name: The Eye of Sauron. The ball lit from within, taking the shape of a great eye. Almost catlike, it stared Spock down. Called. Commanded. Perhaps he should try to meld with it.

“That would not be wise,” Gandalf said.

“It is the only way.” Spock mentally touched the eye’s essence. “My thoughts to your thoughts.” Information sped through his mind.

“Serve me.”

“Who are you?”

“Tell me everything.”

“That would be illogical for that is what I wish of you.”

“Tell me,” it hissed.

A shadow fell over the eye, breaking the meld. Spock staggered. “Fascinating.”

“Fool of a Vulcan!” Gandalf snapped. “Courting the eye endangers us all.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “It was a logical course of action.”

“Perhaps. Did you learn anything?”