Future Imperfect (K/S) Pt 8 of 13
Jul. 2nd, 2011 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilda_eliseTitle: Future Imperfect
Fandom: Star Trek (TOS)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: In the ruins of one world, two men of different planets meet. One looks to the future, one to the past. But as their lives intertwine, they find that their happiness is dependent on the past one seeks and the future the other fights for.
Notes: Originally published by Kathy Resch as a stand-alone novel. Artwork by Lorraine Brevig and Virginia Sky.
Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
artconserv and cluesby4 for allowing me to post their beautiful artwork here.
Chapter 8
“Spock to Vulcan Central. Permission to land.” Spock held the ship in orbit, waiting to be allowed to bring his craft in. He was tired. He had managed only a few hours of sleep over the long days of his voyage home, his ship haunted by Kirk’s presence. The scent of the man had hung like a beckoning spirit over Spock’s bunk; he hadn’t dared sleep there.
“Permission granted. Proceed to Vulcan Science Academy terminus five,” the sonorous voice responded.
Spock activated landing procedures, allowing the ship its head though he stayed next to the instrument panel to watch his planet leisurely fill the screen, the flat expanse of land that surrounded Shi’Kahr soon replacing the global image. The buildings of the VSA then came into view as the craft approached its destination. With a final graceful turn, it settled into its docking station with an almost imperceptible bump.
It was done. He had relayed his report to the VSA, finished during the sleepless hours of his journey, as soon as the ship had slipped into orbit. His gear was packed, the ship’s equipment stowed away until his next voyage. Whenever that would be.
He let his gaze roam through the interior of the small craft. Though the last few days has been difficult ones, he would miss the ship. It had been his refuge away from the trial that had become his life. And even though it was painful to contemplate, he would never wish the memories of that last time with Kirk, here within the shelter of this vessel, to be erased. Finally, he walked over and grabbed his bag and, opening the door, walked out into the heat of Vulcan at midday.
As he made his way toward the main building, he had the sense of time reversing back on itself. Everything was as it was the day he’d left; ships sat in their stations, waiting to be released into space, the bright Vulcan sun illuminated the surroundings, the season unchanged. It was as if the time he had spent on Earth was a product of his imagination, a quiet interlude he’d created for himself in order to step out of his normal existence. But that existence could not be denied. He was back and he would have to pick up that life where he had left off.
There was a quiet hum of activity in the building, his entrance going unnoticed. He passed through the main foyer and took the turbolift up to his work station. Entering into the small room, he closed the door behind him and took a seat before his terminal.
Scanning through the latest reports and updates, he saw that he had already been scheduled for debriefing in six days. He knew he would not be given a new mission until his report had been thoroughly examined and he had given a more in-depth verbal account before the VSA’s council. At that time, he would learn in what direction his path would take. Would the successful completion of his mission cause them to favor his return to Earth?
He turned off the machine and sat quietly, pondering the implications. He was not at all sure that he wished to, considering that any survey would be to a different area of the planet. He and Kirk would be on the same planet, but for all intents and purposes still no closer than they were now. Could he tolerate knowing that Kirk was within range but forever out of reach? No, he decided, he would request assignment elsewhere.
His decision made, he stood and, retrieving his bag from where he’d set it down, left the building for home. A short walk later, he was opening up his front door.
It was as he’d left it. Again, he had the feeling of time having stood still. He caught his mother’s handiwork, or more correctly that of Haadok, their servant, in that no dust marred the surfaces and the air within was fresh and sweet. He carried his valise into the bedroom and dropped it next to the closet. He would unpack later. What he needed now was rest.
He removed his shoes and stretched out on his bed, covering himself with the blanket folded at its foot. He relaxed his breathing, falling into the lower levels of consciousness. He was back and now he needed to return to what his life had been and was again. It was time to compose his thoughts into the perfect configurations of logic. It was time to let go of James Kirk.
~~~~~
Spock was not looking forward to this, and that brought its own frisson of guilt. He had been home less than a day and his mother had insisted on his attendance at dinner.
He dressed slowly, slipping on the black trousers and then pulling the matching tunic on over his head. He sat on the bed to put on his boots, carefully drawing his pants cuffs down over them. Lastly, he ran a comb through his hair until the strands were neatly in place. He exited his bedroom, stopping only long enough to retrieve the stone he had brought with him from Earth, and then was out the door.
The walk to his parents’ house was not long. When he reached the door, his mother was waiting to open it in welcome.
“Spock.” she stepped back but was unable to keep herself from laying her hand on his arm as he entered. “I am so pleased you’re home.” She studied him a moment. “Are you well? You look tired.”
“It was a...difficult mission. Is Father here?” he asked, wishing to redirect her attentions.
“He’s in the study. Come. We can share a drink before dinner.”
He followed her through to the study. Though tucked into a back corner of the house, it was, in essence, the very heart of the dwelling. The wide doors leading into the garden were open and a fresh breeze brought the spicy scent of the favinit plants into the room.
Sarek sat in one of the four well-stuffed chairs that created a conversation area with an unobstructed view of the outdoors. Not for him the austerity of Vulcan decor, though Spock always imagined that his father probably blamed his mother whenever it was noted. At his entrance, Sarek turned from his contemplation of the garden.
Spock approached his father and with a nod from Sarek took one of the chairs opposite him. A carafe and another glass sat on the table between them. Amanda served Spock some of the dark liquid and then took the chair to his father’s right.
“I am pleased to have you home, my son.” Sarek took a sip of his drink. “From your report I ascertained that Earth is still filled with much danger.”
Amanda looked at Spock, her shock not quite hidden. “Were you injured?”
“Only superficially, Mother.” Spock had not been able to fully discount Kirk’s aid in his report and had had to disclose Kirk’s discovery of Spock’s alien nature. But he had downplayed his injury, noting only that he had been incapacitated for a short time. “I was never in any danger.”
Her disbelief was easy to see. Still, she let it pass. “So, what did you think of Earth?” she asked instead.
“I found it quite fascinating. The people seem locked in a strange dichotomy of technical knowledge and primitive methods.”
“It was so when I was there, also,” Sarek noted. “They still have the knowledge from their past of a more advanced technology, yet lack the skill to rebuild it.”
Amanda snorted. “It’s not as if they don’t have their hands full just trying to stay alive. I think you’re asking an awfully lot from them.”
Now it was Spock’s turn to try to hide his surprise. “Your feelings regarding your home planet seem to have changed.”
“A bit,” she answered, somewhat abashed. “I read some of your report—I know, I’m not with the VSA but I couldn’t resist when I saw it on your father’s computer. You made them all sound so courageous.”
“I believe them to be.”
“And what of this man, Kirk, who you wrote so much about?”
“I, too, was curious as to his role in your mission,” Sarek added.
Spock had known the subject would come up, had tried to gird himself for the conversation, yet he still found it difficult to speak of Kirk. “There is not much to say. I stayed on his farm and he accompanied me on my journey to gather the information I sought.”
“It certainly sounds as if he took discovering that you weren’t from Earth far better than I did when I learned about your father,” Amanda said with a smile. “He appears to be an extraordinary man, offering you a place to stay, helping you in your mission, keeping your secret. Not many would go out of their way the way he did for a complete stranger.”
“I was most fortunate to make his acquaintance.” He cleared his throat. “He is...most extraordinary.”
“With people like that around, I might almost want to return for a visit,” Amanda mused.
Spock remembered his gift to her. He removed it from his pocket and extended his hand. “I thought to bring you a reminder.”
Amanda took it into her hands. Slowly examining it from every angle, she gently touched the crystals in its center. “Oh, Spock, it’s beautiful.”
“Then it pleases you?”
She looked up and only then did he notice her eyes swimming with unshed tears.
“It pleases me very much.”
“May I see it?” Sarek asked.
She handed it over almost hesitantly, as if afraid that, once let go of, it would not be returned.
Sarek inspected the stone. “A unique formation. Are there many of these on the planet?”
“I believe so. I was told it is referred to as a geode and that certain areas have them in abundance.”
“I don’t ever remember seeing one, but I’ll treasure it always,” she said as Sarek handed it back to her. Holding it with both hands, she nestled it against her breast and took a ragged breath. “And I’m so very glad you’re home safe. You’re not planning on returning there, are you?”
“No, I do not believe so. Though corroborating evidence will still be desired, my own interests lie elsewhere.”
“You will be returning to your studies at the VSA?” Sarek asked.
“That is an option. I...I do not know.”
It was impossible not to catch the look that passed between his parents. Though he had finally managed to conceal his emotions from everyone else, becoming everything Vulcan wished him to be, he had never quite managed to acquire the skill needed to cloak them from the two people sitting across from him.
“There is always Starfleet,” Amanda remarked, somewhat tentatively.
“They were not pleased when I tendered my resignation, I do not see them now offering me another posting.”
“Do not be surprised if you do in fact receive an offer,” Sarek said. “Your report has garnered much interest from that organization. They knew of your worth before; this has merely added to it.”
That was an option Spock had thought permanently closed to him. It did have its allure, certainly. There would be little chance of a starship traveling to Earth and he would be doing the work that best suited him.
“Perhaps. I would wish to see what the VSA has to offer once they conclude their analysis of my report.”
“Personally, I’d be happy if you never took another step off the planet.”
Sarek turned to his wife, a look of fondness of his face. “Your son is quite aware of your stand on the matter, Amanda. You have never been circumspect is this regard.”
“You know I worry, Sarek. That’s just the way I am.” She smiled and reached her hand out across the space that separated them. Sarek’s hand met hers in the ritualistic touching of fingers.
Spock looked away. He had seen this between his parents innumerable times but never had it had the power to wound as it did now.
There was a rustle of footsteps at the room’s entrance and all three turned at the sound. Haadok stood in the doorway.
“The meal awaits, my lady,” he bowed slightly toward Amanda.
“Very well, Haadok, we will be there shortly.” She turned back to her husband and son.” Shall we?”
Sarek stood and approached Amanda’s side. Rising, she placed her hand on his arm and he led her out of the room. Spock followed behind, aware that, even here, he was one apart.
~~~~~
From the quarterdeck Kirk watched as, in ones and twos, his crew returned from their extended leave. Most looked ready to go, but here and there he could see the mark of too much to drink marring the face of his men. Well, they better get over it fast, he thought. Out on the river was no place for any man not at the top of his game.
But he was happy to see them. Six days was more than enough time alone. He’d found himself prowling the ship long into the night, the only way it seemed he was capable of then getting a full night’s sleep. He slammed shut the avenue his mind was taking and concentrated on the slow re-crewing of the ship. Bringing up the rear, McCoy ambled up the gangplank. Spying Kirk, he waved and then took the stairs up to the deck.
“Howdy, Jim. You just get back, too?”
“I got back a week ago, Bones.”
McCoy gave him a look that clearly stated that the good doctor thought that there was obviously something wrong with a man who preferred his ship to the pleasures found on shore.
“You mean to tell me you couldn’t find anything else to do but haunt this old tub?”
“Some of us actually like this ‘old tub’.” He studied McCoy a moment. “You certainly look rested.”
“I’m certainly that.” McCoy chuckled. “I found me the nicest, sweetest, lushest woman you could ever imagine. I just spent the last three weeks having my wicked way with her.”
“Aren’t you getting a bit old for that kind of thing?” Kirk goaded. “What you need is some woman to come along and make an honest man out of you.”
“Bite your tongue. Ain’t going to happen as long as there are plenty of women like this one around.”
“And does this woman have a name?”
“Sheila, and that’s all you’re getting out of me. I know you, Jim Kirk, I give you her full name and the next thing I know you’d be at her door.”
Kirk’s smile slipped. “Was I really that bad, Bones?”
“What do you mean, ‘was’?”
“Okay, ‘am’ then.”
“Well, you’ve been known to do your fair share of claim jumping. Speaking of which, did you do any staking of your own?”
“I was at my mother’s farm, McCoy. Riverside isn’t exactly known for its swinging night life.”
“Never stopped you before. So, if you weren’t partying it up, what were you doing?”
“Uh, this and that. Did some work around the farm. Oh, and I, uh, took a trip up north.”
“What in the world for?”
Kirk bolstered himself. There wasn’t any way he’d be able to hide two months of his life from McCoy. Sometime, somewhere, he’d slip and mention something from that time and McCoy would catch it. He might as well give him an abridged version now.
“We had a new man working for us for awhile. He and I rode up there to check out some stories my mother had told him about the place.”
“I reiterate, what in the world for?”
“Hey, some people are interested in more than carousing, Bones. Spock and my mom had a lot in common, starting with an interest in history.”
“Spock? What kind of name is that?” McCoy’s eyes narrowed. “This guy wasn’t making a move on your mom, was he?”
Kirk almost laughed. If it hadn’t been so pathetic, it would have been funny. “No, Bones, it was nothing like that. Spock was a perfect gentleman.” Perfect, yeah, that just about summed him up.
“So did this Spock find what he was looking for?”
Kirk didn’t know how to answer that. Had Spock found all that he was looking for, or more than he was looking for? He supposed he’d never know.
“Jim?”
He cleared his head with a shake. “I’m sorry, Bones. I...I don’t know if he did or not.”
“Are you all right, Jim?” McCoy was suddenly watching him very closely. “You seem a bit...I don’t know, different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“I don’t know, just different. Sorta sad, I guess.”
Luckily for Kirk, he was called away then. It was time to sail. As he walked away, he noticed that McCoy kept staring at him, his gaze tightly focused, as if he was trying to see right through Kirk.
Kirk knew he’d eventually tell McCoy everything. Theirs was that sort of relationship; the doctor was part friend, part father confessor. But not now, the wound was still too new, the healing process had barely started. Too soon to start picking at scabs.
He moved up to stand next to the wheel as the ship slowly slipped out onto the water. Kirk looked back and gave the land one long, last look. Saying goodbye was always tough. He straightened his shoulders and turned toward the water.
~~~~~
Spock gazed out the window, his eyes drawn to the red-hued vista. One would be hard pressed to realize that the sun was at its zenith, the haze giving the sky the cast of evening. Far out in the desert a sand fire raged, partially blotting out the sun even within the safety of Shi’Kahr. As his home was near the outskirts, almost the full brunt of the storm’s might was rendered onto him.
He raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a drink. He had risen late, having stayed late in a discussion with Sarek the night before; it was not as if he had a reason to be up early. Thus far, he had dressed and had his morning meal. The storm making travel inconvenient, he thought it would be a good day to stay in and catch up on his reading.
In actuality, he’d spent very little time at home. As loath as he was to admit it, he had found that he no longer cared to spend so much time alone. Since he had as yet not been assigned any work, his days had been filled with whatever errands he could find for himself. Even Amanda, delighted at first that he was spending so much time with them, had become concerned.
Two days, that was all that needed to be filled before he would know in what direction his life would take. Surely his debriefing was mere formality and they would have already decided as to his next assignment.
Thinking on that, brought to mind that he had not yet unpacked the tricorder from his valise. The VSA would most certainly require it back. He put down his cup and made his way into the bedroom.
He slid aside the door, pulling out the bag from where it sat on the closet floor and swung it over onto his bed. He’d stowed the instrument in the large middle compartment after its last use, his clothes cushioning it from beneath. Opening the fastenings, he prepared to withdraw the tricorder. Instead, he found himself sitting on the bed and slowly removing the book which lay on top.
The book was old but in excellent condition, the leather binding still strong and supple, its pages still crisp and firmly in place. Across its front a large ‘A’ in a rich red stood out in bold relief within a golden inlay.(6) Opening it, he found that an envelope had been tucked directly inside the cover.
He lay the book on the bed. Even if he hadn’t recognized the handwriting, Spock’s name scrawled across its surface, he would have known it was from Kirk. With hands he willed to cease their shaking, he carefully tore open one end of the envelope and removed the letter from inside. He unfolded it and began to read.
Spock,
Sitting here waiting for morning, it’s hard to imagine that, after today, I’ll never see you again, never touch you again, especially since it’s been less than an hour since we last shared a bed. I think, no, I KNOW, I’ll never forget our time together. Or you.
Will you remember me? I hope so. But just to make sure, I wanted you to have something that might help you with that. I hope you like it. I found it quite illuminating. I won’t say why or how, I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you. But I think you’ll find something within it that speaks to you, something worth knowing.
Be happy, my friend. My love. And know that you ARE loved—always.
Yours,
Jim
He carefully folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope, placing it and the book inside the drawer of his night stand. When the first tremor stole its way through his body, he closed his eyes against the storm that was building inside of him, one he felt would match the conflagration ranging outside. It must, for it had already stolen his breath from him, as if all air had been sucked out of the room.
It seemed as if he was folding into himself, his arms wrapped around his lowering head as he brought his elbows to rest on his knees. All he could hear were the screams of the wind outside and the screams that were reverberating through his very soul.
He’d never felt such pain, this pain that had no beginning or end, that wasn’t of his body yet made him feel as if he were dying. He had held it in since their parting and now it was demanding release.
How long he sat that way, contorted into as small a space as he could manage, as if trying to remove himself from this world, he would never be able to say. All he knew was that what he was feeling was a monster that could be caged but never tamed. It would live on inside of him until his brutal starvation of it might finally put it to rest.
When it was over, when he could finally straighten himself, he felt as if he had been wretched through a vortex. Everything looked the same, yet not, as if he was seeing things one step out of synch with reality. His body ached.
He stood and returned to his unpacking. The tricorder he took into the front room so that he would remember to return it. He threw his clothes into the recycler and restored the rest of the items to their proper places. The empty valise he put back in the closet.
The coffee was almost cold when he picked up the cup. No matter. With it in hand, he returned to his place near the window and the perusal of the desolate expanse outside.
~~~~~
Spock kept his hands clasped together, the knot of tension far preferable to the betraying tremor when allowed loose. Though two days had passed, his emotional control was still unpredictable.
He glanced toward the room where the proceedings would take place. He had arrived early, hoping to be done with it that much sooner, only to find that his was not the only debriefing scheduled for today. So he sat and waited his turn and tried to find the calm that had so far eluded him.
“Spock.” An elderly clerk stood before the chamber doors. “You may enter now.”
Spock stood and nodding an acknowledgment as he passed, walked into the high chamber of the Science Academy’s ruling council. He strode up to the dais situated in the middle of the room. Behind him, rows of benches reserved for witnesses and spectators; before him, perched high on their podium, the five council members who would decide his future. Much more than they even knew.
He had met three of the members. T’Paal headed the coordination between the VSA and Starfleet and so Spock had had many dealings with her during his resignation from Starfleet and subsequent reassignment to the VSA. Talok was an associate of Sarek’s. Spock had known the man since childhood, as Talok had visited their home on many occasions. And, of course, Sonak, who was in charge of the scouting project and who Spock reported to at this time. The other two members were unknown to him.
T’Paal, as eldest, spoke first.
“Spock, we have studied your report with great interest. We are pleased at the extraordinary success of your mission. The knowledge your diligence and perseverance has garnered will have far reaching consequences in regard to our dealings with the planet, Earth.”
Spock bowed his head. “The council honors me with its assessment.”
“I have already assigned three more scouts to the planet,” Sonak announced, then directed a question at Spock. “This library you spoke of, what is the possibility that it would still be accessible?”
“I was given the impression that word would be sent to the main governing body of the area so that the books could be collected. Whether that has been done, or will be done, is unknown.”
“That is most unfortunate. If we could have transported the books here, it would have greatly added to our knowledge of the planet.”
“There are those there who are attempting to rediscover their past. I do not believe it would be...correct to remove the information they so gravely need,” Spock responded, not caring for Sonak’s unspoken assumption that Vulcan had a better claim to the trove of books.
“Do you believe them capable of understanding the information? They have fallen into such decline, it may be that by allowing them to retain the library the knowledge will be forever lost,” Talok responded, adding his words to Sonak’s.
“They will understand. To be sure, their technical knowledge is far below what it once was, but they are an intelligent people. I am sure they will gladly accept the responsibility which is implied in retaining such information as the library possesses.”
Another member of the panel spoke up. “And if they do not? We have been observing them for many years. From the reports I have read, it does not seem as if they have made a great deal of progress.”
Spock grappled down his first response to come to Earth’s defense. Any emotional outburst would only make matters worse. “Their progress has been sporadic; this is true. But I believe they possess the ability to reclaim their planet. It will, of course, take many years.”
“This man, Kirk, are you satisfied that he will remain silent?” Sonak asked. “His knowledge of our existence on their planet could present a danger to other scouts.”
Spock stiffened. “He will remain silent. Of this, I am sure.”
“It could prove fatal to our people if you are wrong.”
“I am not wrong.” Spock took a breath. Now. Now he would speak the words that would either give him all he wished for or place it forever out of his reach. Though he spoke only to the VSA’s council, he knew they, and Vulcan, held an inordinate amount of power when it came to the workings of the Coalition. “I would, in fact, suggest that we expand our presence and make ourselves known to the people of Earth.”
All five on the council merely stared at him. Finally, T’Paal spoke.
“Earth does not meet the requirements for membership into the Coalition, which would be the only reason such a step would be taken.”
“I realize this, but I believe Earth to be a unique situation. Alone, it will take hundreds of years for them to achieve the level of technical ability they once possessed but it is not out of ignorance. They know what it is they have lost. They merely lack the capability to reproduce that technology.”
“Your report has made the reason for this quite plain, Spock,’ Talok interjected.
“I am aware of that. It was an enormous error on their part to allow the situation to occur, but I believe that if they were made aware that the conditions on their planet were of their own doing, I am sure they would do all they could to assure that such a catastrophe would not be again allowed.”
“Yet they continue to expend the very fuel which brought their planet to its present condition in the first place.”
“They have no alternative,” Spock responded, louder than he had intended. He took a breath, fighting for control. “They have no other resources on which to fall back on. They must use what is available to them. Would it not then be better for the Coalition to provide them with a clean alternative source of power, so that they can create the world they were meant to own?”
“And if we do not?” T’Paal asked.
“There is the possibility that, left to flounder on their own, they could fall even further back, eventually reaching a point where any sort of planet-wide civilization will be millennia off, if even ultimately possible.”
“We will reserve judgment in this matter for the time being. Nevertheless, I am satisfied with your report. Are there any other questions?” T’Paal looked from one member to the other. When no more questions were forthcoming, she turned to Spock. “As you are aware, there are inherent difficulties involved in a scout’s return; having integrated into a completely different society, the scout must then resume his normal life at home. That is why it has been the tradition of the Academy to assign them to positions on Vulcan following their return. It has been decided that you will be assigned to the research department, your time there being determined by how well you re-assimilate back into Vulcan society. You may report there in the morning.”
Though he had known that would be the case, Spock still felt a pang of distress. Returning to Earth would never be an option under present circumstances, but he had hoped for something that would have at least allowed his mind a focus strong enough to override that on Kirk.
“And regarding my request?”
“You will be notified at the time of our decision.”
Spock knew he had been dismissed, and a study of each member in turn told him that he would gain nothing with further discussion. With a slight bow of his head, he took his leave of them.
onto Chapter 9
Fandom: Star Trek (TOS)
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Summary: In the ruins of one world, two men of different planets meet. One looks to the future, one to the past. But as their lives intertwine, they find that their happiness is dependent on the past one seeks and the future the other fights for.
Notes: Originally published by Kathy Resch as a stand-alone novel. Artwork by Lorraine Brevig and Virginia Sky.
Many thanks to
artconserv and cluesby4 for allowing me to post their beautiful artwork here.“Spock to Vulcan Central. Permission to land.” Spock held the ship in orbit, waiting to be allowed to bring his craft in. He was tired. He had managed only a few hours of sleep over the long days of his voyage home, his ship haunted by Kirk’s presence. The scent of the man had hung like a beckoning spirit over Spock’s bunk; he hadn’t dared sleep there.
“Permission granted. Proceed to Vulcan Science Academy terminus five,” the sonorous voice responded.
Spock activated landing procedures, allowing the ship its head though he stayed next to the instrument panel to watch his planet leisurely fill the screen, the flat expanse of land that surrounded Shi’Kahr soon replacing the global image. The buildings of the VSA then came into view as the craft approached its destination. With a final graceful turn, it settled into its docking station with an almost imperceptible bump.
It was done. He had relayed his report to the VSA, finished during the sleepless hours of his journey, as soon as the ship had slipped into orbit. His gear was packed, the ship’s equipment stowed away until his next voyage. Whenever that would be.
He let his gaze roam through the interior of the small craft. Though the last few days has been difficult ones, he would miss the ship. It had been his refuge away from the trial that had become his life. And even though it was painful to contemplate, he would never wish the memories of that last time with Kirk, here within the shelter of this vessel, to be erased. Finally, he walked over and grabbed his bag and, opening the door, walked out into the heat of Vulcan at midday.
As he made his way toward the main building, he had the sense of time reversing back on itself. Everything was as it was the day he’d left; ships sat in their stations, waiting to be released into space, the bright Vulcan sun illuminated the surroundings, the season unchanged. It was as if the time he had spent on Earth was a product of his imagination, a quiet interlude he’d created for himself in order to step out of his normal existence. But that existence could not be denied. He was back and he would have to pick up that life where he had left off.
There was a quiet hum of activity in the building, his entrance going unnoticed. He passed through the main foyer and took the turbolift up to his work station. Entering into the small room, he closed the door behind him and took a seat before his terminal.
Scanning through the latest reports and updates, he saw that he had already been scheduled for debriefing in six days. He knew he would not be given a new mission until his report had been thoroughly examined and he had given a more in-depth verbal account before the VSA’s council. At that time, he would learn in what direction his path would take. Would the successful completion of his mission cause them to favor his return to Earth?
He turned off the machine and sat quietly, pondering the implications. He was not at all sure that he wished to, considering that any survey would be to a different area of the planet. He and Kirk would be on the same planet, but for all intents and purposes still no closer than they were now. Could he tolerate knowing that Kirk was within range but forever out of reach? No, he decided, he would request assignment elsewhere.
His decision made, he stood and, retrieving his bag from where he’d set it down, left the building for home. A short walk later, he was opening up his front door.
It was as he’d left it. Again, he had the feeling of time having stood still. He caught his mother’s handiwork, or more correctly that of Haadok, their servant, in that no dust marred the surfaces and the air within was fresh and sweet. He carried his valise into the bedroom and dropped it next to the closet. He would unpack later. What he needed now was rest.
He removed his shoes and stretched out on his bed, covering himself with the blanket folded at its foot. He relaxed his breathing, falling into the lower levels of consciousness. He was back and now he needed to return to what his life had been and was again. It was time to compose his thoughts into the perfect configurations of logic. It was time to let go of James Kirk.
Spock was not looking forward to this, and that brought its own frisson of guilt. He had been home less than a day and his mother had insisted on his attendance at dinner.
He dressed slowly, slipping on the black trousers and then pulling the matching tunic on over his head. He sat on the bed to put on his boots, carefully drawing his pants cuffs down over them. Lastly, he ran a comb through his hair until the strands were neatly in place. He exited his bedroom, stopping only long enough to retrieve the stone he had brought with him from Earth, and then was out the door.
The walk to his parents’ house was not long. When he reached the door, his mother was waiting to open it in welcome.
“Spock.” she stepped back but was unable to keep herself from laying her hand on his arm as he entered. “I am so pleased you’re home.” She studied him a moment. “Are you well? You look tired.”
“It was a...difficult mission. Is Father here?” he asked, wishing to redirect her attentions.
“He’s in the study. Come. We can share a drink before dinner.”
He followed her through to the study. Though tucked into a back corner of the house, it was, in essence, the very heart of the dwelling. The wide doors leading into the garden were open and a fresh breeze brought the spicy scent of the favinit plants into the room.
Sarek sat in one of the four well-stuffed chairs that created a conversation area with an unobstructed view of the outdoors. Not for him the austerity of Vulcan decor, though Spock always imagined that his father probably blamed his mother whenever it was noted. At his entrance, Sarek turned from his contemplation of the garden.
Spock approached his father and with a nod from Sarek took one of the chairs opposite him. A carafe and another glass sat on the table between them. Amanda served Spock some of the dark liquid and then took the chair to his father’s right.
“I am pleased to have you home, my son.” Sarek took a sip of his drink. “From your report I ascertained that Earth is still filled with much danger.”
Amanda looked at Spock, her shock not quite hidden. “Were you injured?”
“Only superficially, Mother.” Spock had not been able to fully discount Kirk’s aid in his report and had had to disclose Kirk’s discovery of Spock’s alien nature. But he had downplayed his injury, noting only that he had been incapacitated for a short time. “I was never in any danger.”
Her disbelief was easy to see. Still, she let it pass. “So, what did you think of Earth?” she asked instead.
“I found it quite fascinating. The people seem locked in a strange dichotomy of technical knowledge and primitive methods.”
“It was so when I was there, also,” Sarek noted. “They still have the knowledge from their past of a more advanced technology, yet lack the skill to rebuild it.”
Amanda snorted. “It’s not as if they don’t have their hands full just trying to stay alive. I think you’re asking an awfully lot from them.”
Now it was Spock’s turn to try to hide his surprise. “Your feelings regarding your home planet seem to have changed.”
“A bit,” she answered, somewhat abashed. “I read some of your report—I know, I’m not with the VSA but I couldn’t resist when I saw it on your father’s computer. You made them all sound so courageous.”
“I believe them to be.”
“And what of this man, Kirk, who you wrote so much about?”
“I, too, was curious as to his role in your mission,” Sarek added.
Spock had known the subject would come up, had tried to gird himself for the conversation, yet he still found it difficult to speak of Kirk. “There is not much to say. I stayed on his farm and he accompanied me on my journey to gather the information I sought.”
“It certainly sounds as if he took discovering that you weren’t from Earth far better than I did when I learned about your father,” Amanda said with a smile. “He appears to be an extraordinary man, offering you a place to stay, helping you in your mission, keeping your secret. Not many would go out of their way the way he did for a complete stranger.”
“I was most fortunate to make his acquaintance.” He cleared his throat. “He is...most extraordinary.”
“With people like that around, I might almost want to return for a visit,” Amanda mused.
Spock remembered his gift to her. He removed it from his pocket and extended his hand. “I thought to bring you a reminder.”
Amanda took it into her hands. Slowly examining it from every angle, she gently touched the crystals in its center. “Oh, Spock, it’s beautiful.”
“Then it pleases you?”
She looked up and only then did he notice her eyes swimming with unshed tears.
“It pleases me very much.”
“May I see it?” Sarek asked.
She handed it over almost hesitantly, as if afraid that, once let go of, it would not be returned.
Sarek inspected the stone. “A unique formation. Are there many of these on the planet?”
“I believe so. I was told it is referred to as a geode and that certain areas have them in abundance.”
“I don’t ever remember seeing one, but I’ll treasure it always,” she said as Sarek handed it back to her. Holding it with both hands, she nestled it against her breast and took a ragged breath. “And I’m so very glad you’re home safe. You’re not planning on returning there, are you?”
“No, I do not believe so. Though corroborating evidence will still be desired, my own interests lie elsewhere.”
“You will be returning to your studies at the VSA?” Sarek asked.
“That is an option. I...I do not know.”
It was impossible not to catch the look that passed between his parents. Though he had finally managed to conceal his emotions from everyone else, becoming everything Vulcan wished him to be, he had never quite managed to acquire the skill needed to cloak them from the two people sitting across from him.
“There is always Starfleet,” Amanda remarked, somewhat tentatively.
“They were not pleased when I tendered my resignation, I do not see them now offering me another posting.”
“Do not be surprised if you do in fact receive an offer,” Sarek said. “Your report has garnered much interest from that organization. They knew of your worth before; this has merely added to it.”
That was an option Spock had thought permanently closed to him. It did have its allure, certainly. There would be little chance of a starship traveling to Earth and he would be doing the work that best suited him.
“Perhaps. I would wish to see what the VSA has to offer once they conclude their analysis of my report.”
“Personally, I’d be happy if you never took another step off the planet.”
Sarek turned to his wife, a look of fondness of his face. “Your son is quite aware of your stand on the matter, Amanda. You have never been circumspect is this regard.”
“You know I worry, Sarek. That’s just the way I am.” She smiled and reached her hand out across the space that separated them. Sarek’s hand met hers in the ritualistic touching of fingers.
Spock looked away. He had seen this between his parents innumerable times but never had it had the power to wound as it did now.
There was a rustle of footsteps at the room’s entrance and all three turned at the sound. Haadok stood in the doorway.
“The meal awaits, my lady,” he bowed slightly toward Amanda.
“Very well, Haadok, we will be there shortly.” She turned back to her husband and son.” Shall we?”
Sarek stood and approached Amanda’s side. Rising, she placed her hand on his arm and he led her out of the room. Spock followed behind, aware that, even here, he was one apart.
From the quarterdeck Kirk watched as, in ones and twos, his crew returned from their extended leave. Most looked ready to go, but here and there he could see the mark of too much to drink marring the face of his men. Well, they better get over it fast, he thought. Out on the river was no place for any man not at the top of his game.
But he was happy to see them. Six days was more than enough time alone. He’d found himself prowling the ship long into the night, the only way it seemed he was capable of then getting a full night’s sleep. He slammed shut the avenue his mind was taking and concentrated on the slow re-crewing of the ship. Bringing up the rear, McCoy ambled up the gangplank. Spying Kirk, he waved and then took the stairs up to the deck.
“Howdy, Jim. You just get back, too?”
“I got back a week ago, Bones.”
McCoy gave him a look that clearly stated that the good doctor thought that there was obviously something wrong with a man who preferred his ship to the pleasures found on shore.
“You mean to tell me you couldn’t find anything else to do but haunt this old tub?”
“Some of us actually like this ‘old tub’.” He studied McCoy a moment. “You certainly look rested.”
“I’m certainly that.” McCoy chuckled. “I found me the nicest, sweetest, lushest woman you could ever imagine. I just spent the last three weeks having my wicked way with her.”
“Aren’t you getting a bit old for that kind of thing?” Kirk goaded. “What you need is some woman to come along and make an honest man out of you.”
“Bite your tongue. Ain’t going to happen as long as there are plenty of women like this one around.”
“And does this woman have a name?”
“Sheila, and that’s all you’re getting out of me. I know you, Jim Kirk, I give you her full name and the next thing I know you’d be at her door.”
Kirk’s smile slipped. “Was I really that bad, Bones?”
“What do you mean, ‘was’?”
“Okay, ‘am’ then.”
“Well, you’ve been known to do your fair share of claim jumping. Speaking of which, did you do any staking of your own?”
“I was at my mother’s farm, McCoy. Riverside isn’t exactly known for its swinging night life.”
“Never stopped you before. So, if you weren’t partying it up, what were you doing?”
“Uh, this and that. Did some work around the farm. Oh, and I, uh, took a trip up north.”
“What in the world for?”
Kirk bolstered himself. There wasn’t any way he’d be able to hide two months of his life from McCoy. Sometime, somewhere, he’d slip and mention something from that time and McCoy would catch it. He might as well give him an abridged version now.
“We had a new man working for us for awhile. He and I rode up there to check out some stories my mother had told him about the place.”
“I reiterate, what in the world for?”
“Hey, some people are interested in more than carousing, Bones. Spock and my mom had a lot in common, starting with an interest in history.”
“Spock? What kind of name is that?” McCoy’s eyes narrowed. “This guy wasn’t making a move on your mom, was he?”
Kirk almost laughed. If it hadn’t been so pathetic, it would have been funny. “No, Bones, it was nothing like that. Spock was a perfect gentleman.” Perfect, yeah, that just about summed him up.
“So did this Spock find what he was looking for?”
Kirk didn’t know how to answer that. Had Spock found all that he was looking for, or more than he was looking for? He supposed he’d never know.
“Jim?”
He cleared his head with a shake. “I’m sorry, Bones. I...I don’t know if he did or not.”
“Are you all right, Jim?” McCoy was suddenly watching him very closely. “You seem a bit...I don’t know, different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“I don’t know, just different. Sorta sad, I guess.”
Luckily for Kirk, he was called away then. It was time to sail. As he walked away, he noticed that McCoy kept staring at him, his gaze tightly focused, as if he was trying to see right through Kirk.
Kirk knew he’d eventually tell McCoy everything. Theirs was that sort of relationship; the doctor was part friend, part father confessor. But not now, the wound was still too new, the healing process had barely started. Too soon to start picking at scabs.
He moved up to stand next to the wheel as the ship slowly slipped out onto the water. Kirk looked back and gave the land one long, last look. Saying goodbye was always tough. He straightened his shoulders and turned toward the water.
Spock gazed out the window, his eyes drawn to the red-hued vista. One would be hard pressed to realize that the sun was at its zenith, the haze giving the sky the cast of evening. Far out in the desert a sand fire raged, partially blotting out the sun even within the safety of Shi’Kahr. As his home was near the outskirts, almost the full brunt of the storm’s might was rendered onto him.
He raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a drink. He had risen late, having stayed late in a discussion with Sarek the night before; it was not as if he had a reason to be up early. Thus far, he had dressed and had his morning meal. The storm making travel inconvenient, he thought it would be a good day to stay in and catch up on his reading.
In actuality, he’d spent very little time at home. As loath as he was to admit it, he had found that he no longer cared to spend so much time alone. Since he had as yet not been assigned any work, his days had been filled with whatever errands he could find for himself. Even Amanda, delighted at first that he was spending so much time with them, had become concerned.
Two days, that was all that needed to be filled before he would know in what direction his life would take. Surely his debriefing was mere formality and they would have already decided as to his next assignment.
Thinking on that, brought to mind that he had not yet unpacked the tricorder from his valise. The VSA would most certainly require it back. He put down his cup and made his way into the bedroom.
He slid aside the door, pulling out the bag from where it sat on the closet floor and swung it over onto his bed. He’d stowed the instrument in the large middle compartment after its last use, his clothes cushioning it from beneath. Opening the fastenings, he prepared to withdraw the tricorder. Instead, he found himself sitting on the bed and slowly removing the book which lay on top.
The book was old but in excellent condition, the leather binding still strong and supple, its pages still crisp and firmly in place. Across its front a large ‘A’ in a rich red stood out in bold relief within a golden inlay.(6) Opening it, he found that an envelope had been tucked directly inside the cover.
He lay the book on the bed. Even if he hadn’t recognized the handwriting, Spock’s name scrawled across its surface, he would have known it was from Kirk. With hands he willed to cease their shaking, he carefully tore open one end of the envelope and removed the letter from inside. He unfolded it and began to read.
Spock,
Sitting here waiting for morning, it’s hard to imagine that, after today, I’ll never see you again, never touch you again, especially since it’s been less than an hour since we last shared a bed. I think, no, I KNOW, I’ll never forget our time together. Or you.
Will you remember me? I hope so. But just to make sure, I wanted you to have something that might help you with that. I hope you like it. I found it quite illuminating. I won’t say why or how, I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you. But I think you’ll find something within it that speaks to you, something worth knowing.
Be happy, my friend. My love. And know that you ARE loved—always.
Yours,
Jim
He carefully folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope, placing it and the book inside the drawer of his night stand. When the first tremor stole its way through his body, he closed his eyes against the storm that was building inside of him, one he felt would match the conflagration ranging outside. It must, for it had already stolen his breath from him, as if all air had been sucked out of the room.
It seemed as if he was folding into himself, his arms wrapped around his lowering head as he brought his elbows to rest on his knees. All he could hear were the screams of the wind outside and the screams that were reverberating through his very soul.
He’d never felt such pain, this pain that had no beginning or end, that wasn’t of his body yet made him feel as if he were dying. He had held it in since their parting and now it was demanding release.
How long he sat that way, contorted into as small a space as he could manage, as if trying to remove himself from this world, he would never be able to say. All he knew was that what he was feeling was a monster that could be caged but never tamed. It would live on inside of him until his brutal starvation of it might finally put it to rest.
When it was over, when he could finally straighten himself, he felt as if he had been wretched through a vortex. Everything looked the same, yet not, as if he was seeing things one step out of synch with reality. His body ached.
He stood and returned to his unpacking. The tricorder he took into the front room so that he would remember to return it. He threw his clothes into the recycler and restored the rest of the items to their proper places. The empty valise he put back in the closet.
The coffee was almost cold when he picked up the cup. No matter. With it in hand, he returned to his place near the window and the perusal of the desolate expanse outside.
Spock kept his hands clasped together, the knot of tension far preferable to the betraying tremor when allowed loose. Though two days had passed, his emotional control was still unpredictable.
He glanced toward the room where the proceedings would take place. He had arrived early, hoping to be done with it that much sooner, only to find that his was not the only debriefing scheduled for today. So he sat and waited his turn and tried to find the calm that had so far eluded him.
“Spock.” An elderly clerk stood before the chamber doors. “You may enter now.”
Spock stood and nodding an acknowledgment as he passed, walked into the high chamber of the Science Academy’s ruling council. He strode up to the dais situated in the middle of the room. Behind him, rows of benches reserved for witnesses and spectators; before him, perched high on their podium, the five council members who would decide his future. Much more than they even knew.
He had met three of the members. T’Paal headed the coordination between the VSA and Starfleet and so Spock had had many dealings with her during his resignation from Starfleet and subsequent reassignment to the VSA. Talok was an associate of Sarek’s. Spock had known the man since childhood, as Talok had visited their home on many occasions. And, of course, Sonak, who was in charge of the scouting project and who Spock reported to at this time. The other two members were unknown to him.
T’Paal, as eldest, spoke first.
“Spock, we have studied your report with great interest. We are pleased at the extraordinary success of your mission. The knowledge your diligence and perseverance has garnered will have far reaching consequences in regard to our dealings with the planet, Earth.”
Spock bowed his head. “The council honors me with its assessment.”
“I have already assigned three more scouts to the planet,” Sonak announced, then directed a question at Spock. “This library you spoke of, what is the possibility that it would still be accessible?”
“I was given the impression that word would be sent to the main governing body of the area so that the books could be collected. Whether that has been done, or will be done, is unknown.”
“That is most unfortunate. If we could have transported the books here, it would have greatly added to our knowledge of the planet.”
“There are those there who are attempting to rediscover their past. I do not believe it would be...correct to remove the information they so gravely need,” Spock responded, not caring for Sonak’s unspoken assumption that Vulcan had a better claim to the trove of books.
“Do you believe them capable of understanding the information? They have fallen into such decline, it may be that by allowing them to retain the library the knowledge will be forever lost,” Talok responded, adding his words to Sonak’s.
“They will understand. To be sure, their technical knowledge is far below what it once was, but they are an intelligent people. I am sure they will gladly accept the responsibility which is implied in retaining such information as the library possesses.”
Another member of the panel spoke up. “And if they do not? We have been observing them for many years. From the reports I have read, it does not seem as if they have made a great deal of progress.”
Spock grappled down his first response to come to Earth’s defense. Any emotional outburst would only make matters worse. “Their progress has been sporadic; this is true. But I believe they possess the ability to reclaim their planet. It will, of course, take many years.”
“This man, Kirk, are you satisfied that he will remain silent?” Sonak asked. “His knowledge of our existence on their planet could present a danger to other scouts.”
Spock stiffened. “He will remain silent. Of this, I am sure.”
“It could prove fatal to our people if you are wrong.”
“I am not wrong.” Spock took a breath. Now. Now he would speak the words that would either give him all he wished for or place it forever out of his reach. Though he spoke only to the VSA’s council, he knew they, and Vulcan, held an inordinate amount of power when it came to the workings of the Coalition. “I would, in fact, suggest that we expand our presence and make ourselves known to the people of Earth.”
All five on the council merely stared at him. Finally, T’Paal spoke.
“Earth does not meet the requirements for membership into the Coalition, which would be the only reason such a step would be taken.”
“I realize this, but I believe Earth to be a unique situation. Alone, it will take hundreds of years for them to achieve the level of technical ability they once possessed but it is not out of ignorance. They know what it is they have lost. They merely lack the capability to reproduce that technology.”
“Your report has made the reason for this quite plain, Spock,’ Talok interjected.
“I am aware of that. It was an enormous error on their part to allow the situation to occur, but I believe that if they were made aware that the conditions on their planet were of their own doing, I am sure they would do all they could to assure that such a catastrophe would not be again allowed.”
“Yet they continue to expend the very fuel which brought their planet to its present condition in the first place.”
“They have no alternative,” Spock responded, louder than he had intended. He took a breath, fighting for control. “They have no other resources on which to fall back on. They must use what is available to them. Would it not then be better for the Coalition to provide them with a clean alternative source of power, so that they can create the world they were meant to own?”
“And if we do not?” T’Paal asked.
“There is the possibility that, left to flounder on their own, they could fall even further back, eventually reaching a point where any sort of planet-wide civilization will be millennia off, if even ultimately possible.”
“We will reserve judgment in this matter for the time being. Nevertheless, I am satisfied with your report. Are there any other questions?” T’Paal looked from one member to the other. When no more questions were forthcoming, she turned to Spock. “As you are aware, there are inherent difficulties involved in a scout’s return; having integrated into a completely different society, the scout must then resume his normal life at home. That is why it has been the tradition of the Academy to assign them to positions on Vulcan following their return. It has been decided that you will be assigned to the research department, your time there being determined by how well you re-assimilate back into Vulcan society. You may report there in the morning.”
Though he had known that would be the case, Spock still felt a pang of distress. Returning to Earth would never be an option under present circumstances, but he had hoped for something that would have at least allowed his mind a focus strong enough to override that on Kirk.
“And regarding my request?”
“You will be notified at the time of our decision.”
Spock knew he had been dismissed, and a study of each member in turn told him that he would gain nothing with further discussion. With a slight bow of his head, he took his leave of them.
onto Chapter 9
