by Diane Duane
Father and son walked on, together, as the shadows of evening lengthened around them.
Epilogue
Sunrise on Vulcan…
Sarek stood alone in Amanda’s garden, waiting for the first light of dawn. As sunrise approached, the darkness of the sky was untouched, stars strewn everywhere—except behind the giant shape of Vulcan’s sister world. The Watcher was lit only by light reflected from Vulcan, and so was nearly invisible, a dark ashen color in its newness. Here in the mountains near Gol, dawn came 1.6 hours late, delayed by the intervention of The Watcher.
As the ambassador watched, a glow appeared on the upper limb of The Watcher, subtle at first, but growing brighter. The Vulcan had seen many sunrises from orbit, and was always struck by the similarity to the way Vulcan’s sun rose over T’Rukh. The sister planet’s tenuous atmosphere, carrying enormous amounts of dust and SO2from its myriad volcanoes, caught Nevasa’s ruddy light in a thin layer like high cirrus clouds.
Sarek turned and picked up a small container that had been resting on the bench behind him. It was an ancient jar carved from white stone.
His eyes fixed on the sky, Sarek ran his fingernail around the jar’s seal, opening it. Carefully, he worked the stopper loose. Above him, the arc of red spread outward; then, suddenly, the star itself appeared. The hot glow grew brighter, visibly swelling. Vulcan’s sky brightened, hiding T’Rukh behind rosy curtains of light. Slowly, as Nevasa came out of eclipse, a delicate down-curving crescent of light became visible, growing toward the horizon. The stars faded, grew dim, disappeared.
But they will return,Sarek thought.Tonight they will shine again. The stars…outlive us all.
Dawn. It was time.
Taking a deep breath, the Vulcan tilted the jar slightly, allowing some of the gray powder within it to fall. The morning breeze caught part of it, wafting it away, but much fell, to land in the soil below.
Sarek moved on a few steps, to a new location. This time he tilted the jar into his hand, letting the ashy powder fill his palm.This is the last time I will touch her, he thought, clenching his fist around the ash, grasping it as he would have her hand. By this time Nevasa had risen farther, separating from the enormous arc that was T’Rukh, brightening the Vulcan sky to its normal, searing color.
Day had begun.
A time to gain, a time to lose…Sarek thought, remembering one of Amanda’s favorite quotations. Slowly, one by one, he forced his fingers to open, letting the ash sift down, between them. Letting go.
As the dawn breezes began to die, Sarek upended the jar, shaking it, so the last trace of the ash within could sift out, to drift and finally settle over the stones, the soil, the living plants from so many worlds.
Farewell, Amanda…The Vulcan’s lips moved, but no sound emerged.
Carefully, the ambassador replaced the stopper in the now-empty jar. Then, his steps slow but steady, he turned and left the silent garden behind.
