Fire On High (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

by Peter David

  "Love. Desire. Attraction. That kind of thing."

  She looked at her askance for a moment. "Commander, are you propositioning me?"

  "What?"

  "I admit that science is synonymous with experimentation, but I—"

  "No!" Shelby put up her hands as if shoving the notion away. "No, Soleta, that's not what I'm talking about at all."

  "I see. Then clarification might be in order if we are to proceed."

  "Look, I just want to check how something might be perceived, that's all. In your opinion, would you or any members of the crew…" She shifted uncomfortably in place. "Does anyone think that I have romantic intentions toward Captain Calhoun?"

  "I do not know," Soleta said, sounding no less puzzled than she had before. "Are you asking me to conduct a survey? If so, as soon as I have completed my current studies, I shall embark on a survey of—"

  "No! No, I don't want you conducting a survey, Soleta! I just want to know if I come across to you as being enamored of Captain Calhoun! That's all."

  "Commander," Soleta said slowly, "to be perfectly blunt, it has never even entered my mind. Your performance as second in command of this vessel has been above reproach. Your interactions with the captain on the bridge have been nothing less than professional at all times. If you are indeed possessed of some sort of intense romantic feelings for him, it is not evident to me. Granted, I am not the ideal individual to form commentary in regard to human mating or sexual habits, but I would have to say in my assessment as a Starfleet officer that, at the very least, whatever emotional feelings you may possess for the captain have not in any way compromised or interfered with your ability to do your job." She paused and cocked an eyebrow. "Is that sufficient response for you, Commander?"

  "Yes," smiled Shelby. She raised a hand for the purpose of placing it in a friendly manner on Soleta's shoulder, but then thought better of it and simply turned it into an apparently casual scratching of her own neck. "I appreciate the time, Soleta, and I also know I can count on you to keep this discussion between ourselves."

  "Of that, Commander, I can most uncategorically assure you,"

  Shelby walked out of the conference room as Soleta gathered up the disk. The science officer watched her go, then shook her head and murmured, "Commander, you are so in love it borders on the ludicrous."

  * * *

  Soleta walked up to the turbolift and the door hissed open. She was mildly surprised to see Dr. Selar in there, and she nodded her head slightly to her fellow Vulcan in greeting as she entered the lift.

  "Soleta," Selar said after a moment as the doors hissed closed, "I do not believe I have properly thanked you for your help with my difficulties during the time of Pon farr. Any discussion I had with off-worlders about the matter was most… difficult. Your aid, to say nothing of your efforts in mindmelding to provide diagnosis of the situation—"

  "No thanks are required, Selar," replied Soleta.

  "You were in distress and I provided assistance. To do any less than what I did would have been illogical."

  "Nonetheless, your aid is appreciated. And you will be pleased to know that the matter has been successfully concluded. I believe I am indeed pregnant, and the mating urge has passed."

  "My congratulations, Selar." She turned to face her formally and raised her fingers in the customary gesture of blessing. "May your child live long and prosper."

  "Thank you."

  "I am about to see Lieutenant Commander Burgoyne on another matter. Would it be good form for me to extend congratulations to hir as well?"

  Selar seemed to study her a moment, and abruptly she said out loud, "Computer, halt lift." The turbolift promptly came to a halt and Soleta regarded her with open curiosity. "Soleta, may I ask your opinion about a personal matter?"

  "I'm beginning to feel a bit like ship's counselor."

  "Pardon?"

  "Nothing. Of course you may, Doctor."

  "I simply feel that, due to our mindmeld and your involvement earlier, I feel a sort of connection to you. And I am …" She appeared to be searching for the right word. "I am conflicted in my attitude toward Burgoyne."

  "Conflicted in what way?"

  "In every way," she admitted. "The bond of Pon farr—" Selar paused, then continued. "The point is, I am accustomed to having distance from others. Not simply physical distance, but the emotional distance not only granted me by my nature, but demanded of me by my profession. I abandoned that distance when I gave myself over to Burgoyne. I am not certain now if it is possible for me to recapture it, nor am I certain that I am even desirous of doing so."

  "The gate has already been opened, Doctor. I am not altogether certain it is possible to close it."

  "Perhaps it is," replied Selar.

  "Selar, you believe that you are bearing Burgoyne's child. That would seem to give hir some sort of permanent place in your life. Or did you not consider that?"

  "To be honest, I had not. I had many considerations driving me, Soleta, but long-term planning was oddly enough not one of them. I do not know if I subscribe to your belief that Burgoyne's presence in my life is mandated. It is not at all impossible for me to raise this child on my own. And tell me, as a Vulcan, Soleta, can you envision Burgoyne as a lifemate for me? S/he is so different, so very much the antithesis of all that we are. Let us say that I were to return to Vulcan, on a temporary or even permanent basis. There would be no place for Burgoyne within our society. Nor would I easily fit in with Hermat society. We are too different, Soleta."

  "Is that your real concern, Selar? How each of you 'fits in' to your respective worlds of origin?"

  Selar considered it a moment and then slowly admitted, "No."

  "I did not think so. In my opinion, Selar—since you asked—I believe that you feel rather vulnerable in the presence of Burgoyne. That it is that vulnerability you consider to be the most daunting aspect of your present situation, and that might be a problem whether you were with Burgoyne or any member of our own race. The problem that presents itself is that, while another Vulcan might be equally and comfortably withdrawn, Burgoyne would require continued displays of intimacy, both physical and emotional. You are not at all certain whether you are capable of providing those. Am I correct?"

  "I would have to say that your assessment is more or less accurate."

  "More? Or less?"

  "More," sighed Selar.

  "Selar, if I may be so bold, do you love hir?"

  "I do not know if that is a particularly relevant question."

  "I disagree, Selar. I think it may well be the only relevant question."

  Selar seemed to be staring intently at the door of the lift, as if she were capable of seeing straight through it and down to Engineering. "I do not know," she admitted.

  "Then it seems to me," Soleta said slowly, "that once you have worked out the answer to that question, the rest of the answers should be forthcoming on their own."

  Selar said nothing for what appeared to be a very long time, although Soleta knew internally that it was only eleven seconds. "Computer, resume lift function." Obediently the turbolift smoothly reengaged on its path as Selar said, "I believe you are correct, Soleta. I shall give the matter careful consideration and endeavor to come to a logical conclusion."

  "If I may be so bold, Selar, might I suggest that, when pondering questions of this nature, logic is the very last discipline you would want to apply." And she stepped out of the turbolift and headed to Engineering.

  * * *

  "Soleta, may I ask your opinion about a personal matter?"

  Soleta stared at Burgoyne across hir desk. They had been going over the energy readouts and mysterious percolations of the engines for nearly half an hour, and Soleta had agreed to give the matter a good deal more study, particularly searching for potential analogs to other such occurrences in assorted vessels. It had almost been something of a blessing for her, spending an entire thirty minutes dealing exclusively with matters that pertained to her job descr
iption. But now Burgoyne was seated behind hir desk, hir long, tapered fingers interlaced, and s/he was staring at Soleta with those remarkable dark eyes.

  Apparently under the impression that Soleta hadn't quite heard hir, Burgoyne repeated, "Soleta, may I ask your opinion about a personal matter? I mean, perhaps this is being a bit forward, but after our having worked so closely together when the captain was gone and the commander was out of commission, I feel that we established a kind of connection."

  "If you say so," Soleta said.

  "Sure," Soleta said more loudly. "Go right ahead, Chief. I assume that this is a question regarding matters of a delicate romantic nature?"

  "How did you know?"

  "I'm science officer and chief data analyst of this ship, Lieutenant Commander. Would this pertain to Doctor Selar?"

  "Partly. Mostly, it's about Mark McHenry. That's why I was asking you. You went to the Academy together, worked closely, so I figured you would have some further insight."

  "Oh." That surprised her slightly, but she took it in stride. "Very well. What is the nature of your situation with McHenry?"

  "It's just that he may very well have pegged me on something, and I don't completely want to admit it. I'm very fond of him, and I just wanted to know if you thought that, in the long term, I might be doing him damage."

  "Damage? Of a physical nature?"

  "No, of an emotional nature."

  "Ah, well, yes, as a Vulcan, naturally I would be the ideal person to voice opinions on human emotional durability."

  "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Burgoyne said, looking genuinely apologetic, and s/he started to rise from behind hir desk. "I shouldn't be dragging you into this."

  "Perhaps not, but here I am in any event," said Soleta as she gestured for Burgoyne to sit down again. Burgoyne did so. "And McHenry is indeed a longtime associate, although 'friend' may be too strong a word, for in many ways he is almost as incomprehensible to me now as when we were cadets together. Still, of all humans that I have ever encountered, he has always shown a remarkable degree of resilience. Oftentimes it seems to me that almost nothing phases him. Do you wish to tell me precisely what is the nature of your situation?" and she added silently to herself.

  "Soleta, you have to understand I'm a very physical person."

  She stared at him. "As opposed to a being of pure consciousness, like an Organian?"

  "No, I mean…" S/he let out a long, unsteady breath. "What's the best way to put this? I had… have… very strong feelings for Selar. From the moment I met her, I felt as if we could be something special together. But you understand, I'm hardly a virgin in these matters. There have been other women and men that I've had similar feelings for. I'm very driven by my physical and emotional makeup. I feel an attraction for someone and it's practically overwhelming. And I will do everything I can to make that attraction clear… until the physical aspect has been attended to, at which point I feel—what's the best word? Sated. I'm a very curious individual, Soleta."

  "I would have to agree with that, Burgoyne."

  Burgoyne was about to continue, but then hesitated and clarified. "I meant 'curious' as in 'inquisitive,' not 'curious' as in 'strange.' "

  "Oh. Well, that, too, I suppose."

  "And along those lines, I have… I had… extreme curiosity about Selar. That curiosity drove all other aspects of my personality, as it always does."

  "I see. And under ordinary circumstances, having had your curiosity satisfied, you would now be moving on elsewhere."

  "That doesn't seem unreasonable to you, does it, Soleta?" Burgoyne leaned forward, and it seemed to Soleta as if s/he was urgently looking for some degree of understanding. "I mean, let's be blunt: It's not as if my lovers aren't curious about me in turn. Don't try to deny it. I'm the only Hermat in Starfleet. I'm used to the looks, the speculation, the whispered discussions that suddenly stop whenever I enter a room. And I'm fine with that. It's understandable. It's even human. I always assume when I take a lover that he or she is motivated primarily out of curiosity as to what sex with a Hermat is like. My peers are Starfleet personnel. Investigation and exploration is our business. So it only makes sense that exploring each other would be a natural extension of the package. But with Selar there was…"

  "Something more?" When Burgoyne didn't readily reply, Soleta continued, "The depth of connection that Pon farr can foster can be quite intense. To a non-Vulcan, it can even be overwhelming if you are not prepared for it."

  "Could anything have prepared me for it?"

  "Probably not," admitted Soleta.

  "So, as I was saying, my curiosity should have been satisfied, and I…"

  Burgoyne seemed to be having problems phrasing it, and Soleta stepped in. "You had problems moving on. Loving her and leaving her, as it was."

  "Yes."

  "You found you wanted to stay with her. To stay close to her."

  "Yes."

  "And the problem with that was—?"

  "Don't you understand? I didn't know if it was real!" Burgoyne said urgently. "It might have been something forced on me because of Pon farr. I didn't know. I don't know even now… if the feelings that I'm having are genuine or fake. If I had to go based on my previous involvements, I'd have to say they're not remotely genuine because I've never felt like this before. But if they are … but I don't know…" S/he leaned forward, hir head in hir hands. "It's totally disrupting my peace of mind."

  "And so you went running back to McHenry?"

  "Mark is familiar. Mark is safe. I understand Mark, understand how he makes me feel. It doesn't have to mean anything with Mark."

  "I see. What you wish," Soleta said, "is a succession of partners, one after the other. A variety of assignations that have no more meaning than a passing gust of solar wind. An endless parade of intrigued sexual playmates to satisfy your endless fascination with physical pleasure."

  "Exactly," Burgoyne said. "Is that so wrong?"

  "I'm not judging good or bad, Burgoyne. I'm not judging at all. To be honest, I'd rather be anywhere else discussing anything else."

  "And besides, who are you to talk about emotional attachments? It's not as if that's something at Vulcans are particularly renowned for."

  "Perhaps not in the standard human way, no. But we know love."

  "That's an emotion. Vulcans don't believe in emotion."

  "Oh, honestly, Burgoyne. You make it sound as if Vulcans accord emotion the same level of credibility as we would The Katha Legend. Of course we believe in emotion. Of course we possess emotion. If we didn't have emotions, our lives would be that much easier. What we do is control our emotions, to the best of our abilities. Love, like any other emotion, is something that we regulate. We do not fall in love based upon romantic and fairy tale notions as other species do. Love is a state of mind that is carefully developed. We make a decision with whom we will fall in love and then proceed in a logical, carefully reasoned fashion. Mates are selected through a conscientious process of compatibility in thirty-seven different areas, ranging from social equatability to opinions on matters of deep philosophical meaning. A relationship is built upon intellectual discourse, rational conversation, and lengthy interaction that elevates the spirit and leads toward a clearer and greater comprehension of the disciplines of logic and the many responsibilities inherent in being a Vulcan."

  "At which point your biological drives kick in."

  "It is not a perfect system. Nothing ever is." When Burgoyne laughed at that, she added, "I'm pleased to see that you are amused by all this."

  "No. No, I'm not amused," Burgoyne said sadly. "Soleta, what am I going to do? I went running back to McHenry because I was scared off about how I felt about Selar. Mark knows that's why I did it, I think. But he took me back anyway, and it all seemed a great game to me, but now I'm suddenly worried about hurting him. And I'm worried about hurting Selar, except I don't know that I have any basis or that I could hurt her, but it worries me. And I'm not used to worrying about hurting anyone. Wh
at do you think I should do?"

  "Be prepared to hurt someone," she replied without hesitation.

  "Thanks," said Burgoyne a bit sourly.

  "I apologize, Burgoyne. This area is really not my specialty. Although, if this day keeps up as it is, I may wind up changing my discipline from science to interspecies romance. There's been a good deal written about that over the years. Quite a few in-depth studies done."

  "Really?" This seemed to intrigue Burgoyne, and with hir pale blond eyebrows knit together in a puckish manner, s/he commented, "I'd love to read them."

  "Somehow," Soleta told hir, "I just knew you would."

  * * *

  Si Cwan's quarters were becoming rather impressive. Soleta wasn't quite sure where he had managed to acquire the assorted thick cloths, trappings, and brocades that seemed evocative of his homeworld of Thallon, but she had to admit that it was looking more and more impressive.

  At that moment, Si Cwan was studying the flame image on the disk while Robin Lefler watched him. "Well?" Soleta asked after a moment, her arms folded.

  "I… do not know anything… for certain," Si Cwan said after a time. "And all that I do know is a child's story."

  "Pardon?" asked Soleta. She exchanged glances with Lefler, who shrugged.

  "There was a book in Kallinda's library," he said.

  "A book of tales of ancient Thallon. Originally handed down via oral tradition, spun by various storytellers throughout the centuries. There was one story I remember in particular: It was about a trickster god named Imtempho. He liked to do things to enrage and annoy the other gods, pulled all manner of tricks on them. The story went that the gods had created the Thallonians to be their playthings, their objects of amusement. But Imtempho, although he was merely a trickster, truly hated the gods and wanted to see them all done away with. But he was unable to lift a hand against them himself. So he stole something from the gods that was the property of them and them alone, and that was fire. He brought fire down to the Thallonians, and the Thallonians began using it to accomplish all manner of wonderful things. This angered the gods, who demanded that the Thallonians return the fire to them. The Thallonians retaliated by setting fire to the Great Hall that the gods lived within, and all the gods were burned up. In that way, the Thallonian people left behind their ancient beliefs and moved forward toward a time of reasoning and self-reliance."