Tela'at's lesson took longer than
anticipated."
Sarek studied her calmly. "Apologies
serve no useful
purpose. They cannot negate the fact that you are
late."
T'Pala bowed her head in submission, quite
clearly
deflated; Spock found the scene a painfully
familiar
one. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. In
all the
years that Spock had lived in his father's
house, he had
never seen Sarek correct a guest; quite
obviously, this
girl was something more. There was an awkward
silence.
Amanda was the first to break it. "There's still
some food in the kitchen, T'Pala, if you
haven't eaten
yet."
"Thank you," T'Pala said. She nodded to them and
went to her room; when she reemerged, she had shed
the black cloak to reveal the long white dress
underneath.
Sarek seated himself at the three-dimensional
chessboard,
and when T'Pala smoothly took the seat across
from him, Spock realized that he was watching what
had become an evening ritual.
At one time, he had been a participant himself.
He continued to play quietly on Sarek's
harp, but he
kept one eye on the game. It was immediately
apparent
that T'Pala was a novice, since she applied
no
coherent strategy, and that the purpose of this game
was instructional rather than recreational.
"How did you fare on your test?" Sarek asked
her.
"Well, I think." T'Pala studied the board
and made
a move. "Did your Council meeting go
well?"
Sarek sighed. "I am having some difficulty
convincing
the Council of my position. I must admit that
I do
not understand the reasons for it. To deny protection
in this case violates all precedent."
"What do you think the ultimate outcome of the
vote will be?"
"I cannot predict it yet. At present, the
vote is
split--half favor Aritani's protection,
half do not."
Spock stopped playing.
MINDSHADOW
"I am especially interested in the subject,"
T'Pala
said, "as one of my examination questions requested
me to state my position on the matter and to defend
it."
"And what position did you take?" Sarek
smoothly
captured T'Pala's bishop with a knight.
She looked at the board with dismay, displeased by
her error, eager to please Sarek with her
defense. "I
said I was against protection in this particular case,
as
it violates the doctrine of noninterference, one
of the
key principles of the Federation. A culture must
be
free to determine its own path. Also, a
military attack
on the raiders contradicts the Vulcan
principle of
nonviolence. Check." She looked up at him
to gauge
his reaction.
Sarek was expressionless as he studied the threat
posed to his king. "The noninterference directive
refers
to the development of a culture. If a culture
unwittingly follows a path which will lead to its
annihilation
rather than its normal course of development,
are we bound to assist that culture in committing
genocide? If we have the means to protect that
culture,
are we not bound to do so in order that they may live
in
peace and continue their development? Federation
history abounds with precedent favoring protection
and rescue of undeveloped planets from
external
threats--Yonada, Betelgeuse Two,
Halcyon, Capella,
Soyuz Vtoroi. the examples are numerous.
You
forget, T'Pala, or you were not informed, that the
reason Aritani now resists the aid of the
Federation is
that we were incapable of actually protecting them
from the attacks, and they now consider us impotent.
I
believe we should comply with their original request
and supply the aid they so desperately
need."
T'Pala turned to look at Spock. "You were
on
Aritani, Spock. Do you also favor
protection?"
There was a long silence. "I am not qualified
to
comment," he replied stonily.
"But you were there," she persisted.
"I have no memory of it."
He felt rather than saw her flush with
embarrassment
as she turned her eyes back to the board to find
that her opponent had moved.
"Checkmate," said Sarek.
"She's very young," Amanda said after T'Pala
exCused
herself. "She'll be nineteen next month. Her
mother died when she was very young, and when her
father died a few months ago, she came to stay with
us. Her mother's family are distant relatives
of
Sarek's, and Sarek knew her father many years
ago. If
she's accepted into the diplomatic
program, she'll
continue to stay with us."
"The Vulcan Diplomatic Corps?"
Spock asked. He
thought he had succeeded in masking his surprise, but
Sarek looked at him sharply.
"She retained her Vulcan citizenship during
her long
stay on Terra," his father said coldly. "Although
she
has acquired some Terran mannerisms as a
result, she
wishes to serve in the VDC. Her background
makes
her an excellent candidate as an attach to the
Vulcan
embassy on Terra."
Spock noted that Sarek had not said T'Pala
would
make an excellent ambassador, merely an
attache; it
was a highly sought after position available only
to the
most elite in the VDC. Sarek had held the
post for
many years, and had groomed his son carefully for
it,
naming him Spock, meaning the Uniter, the one who
might someday unite Vulcan and Terra into one
great
civilization, to bring together all that was best of the
two worlds.
MINDSHADOW
So this girl was to be Sarek's new protge.
"I have recommended that she be admitted into the
VDC," Sarek continued, "but that is no
guarantee that
she will be accepted. Her grades are good, but not
outstanding." He looked pointedly at Spock.
"She is
not as gifted as some others."
Spock remained silent.
"Of course," Sarek amended, "her strengths are
in
the social sciences, and she has a natural
inclination
toward politi
cs. Thus, it is logical for her
to pursue a
diplomatic career. If her talents
were elsewhere--for
example, the natural sciences--perhaps another
profession
would be more suitable."
"Logical," Spock nodded in serene
agreement.
"Of course, she has other marks against her besides
her grades," Amanda said softly. "Her father was
Gerald Carstairs."
Sarek fixed his disapproving gaze upon her.
"The name is unfamiliar to me," Spock said.
"You
said he was a friend of Father's?"
"An acquaintance," Sarek corrected. "There
is no
point in discussing what is no longer
important, my
wife."
Amanda bowed her head slightly in acquiescence.
Spock knew better than to try to pursue the
subject.
"if you will excuse me, then," Spock said as he
rose.
"Sleep well," said Amanda.
Husband and wife sat alone quietly
for a moment.
"Thank you," Amanda said suddenly.
Sarek lifted an eyebrow at her as if she had
just said
something completely insane.
"For what you said to Spock... about choosing a
profession. And drop that expression. You're as
transparent
as glass."
He let free a small, exasperated sigh,
and for once
did not pretend that he had no idea what she was
talking about.
McCoy responded to the buzzer in spite of his
promises to himself; but it was not Emma who had
pressed it, as he had hoped and feared. Kirk
stood
nervously in the corridor with a
suspicious-looking
bundle under his arm.
"Yes, Captain?" McCoy's tone was cold,
and the
look in his eyes could have turned the Vulcan
desert to
icy tundra. Kirk had already had
occasion to speak to
him earlier on the bridge, and McCoy had
dropped
more than a few hints that he was mad. Damn
mad.
Now here was the captain standing in front of the
door to his quarters with a peace offering, an act
that
served only to confirm the doctor's
suspicions.
"Mind if I come in?" Kirk asked meekly.
McCoy shrugged and retreated into his study. The
captain followed and set the bundle on
McCoy's desk,
pulling the wrapping away.
The unmarked decanter contained a clear liquid
that
could have been water--but it was bootleg ethanol,
fresh from the Enterprise's own still hidden in the
depths of Engineering. White lightning,
moonshine,
McCoy called it. It was as close to pure
ethanol as its
makers could come without igniting Engineering--198
proof. One good shot and you felt no
pain; two, and
you'd never remember the fun you were having.
The captain, of course, was not supposed to be
aware of the still's existence, as it was decidedly
nonregulation. Kirk had had a hell of a time just
trying
to find someone who would admit its existence, much
less procure some of its output for him. Former
Security
Chief O'Shay had been his supplier, but
Tomson
had seemed genuinely shocked at the captain's
sugges-
MINDSHADOW
tion: she'd probably never touched the stuff and
would
no doubt turn in any of her subordinates who
did.
Even Tersarkisov, the rowdiest engineer on
board,
had professed total ignorance until Kirk
had convinced
him that the liquor really was for the captain's
personal
consumption and that no court-martials would
ensue.
Kirk pushed the bottle toward McCoy. "The
drinks
are on me."
McCoy silently produced two glasses and
set them
on the table. Kirk took it as a hopeful sign
and filled
them; usually the moonshine was mixed with something
to lessen its effect and kill the taste, but this was
no time for formalities. Kirk handed a glass
to the
sulking doctor and sat down across from him. "I
think
we need to talk."
"Suit yourself." McCoy played with his glass and
did not look at him.
Kirk took a sip of his drink and shuddered at the
taste. "Why are you angry at me, Doctor?"
"You tell me."
"Bones.. Kirk spread his hands helplessly.
"How's the shoulder this morning, Captain?"
McCoy
said suddenly.
Kirk colored slightly. "Who told you?"
"You mean, besides the fact that you're moving
with all the agility and grace of a
ninety-year-old
arthritic?" McCoy said sarcastically.
"Maybe I'm just
good at putting two and two together."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He could hold his rage no longer. "You can drop
the
innocent act, Jim! I saw her leaving your
quarters
early this morning."
"I see," Kirk said quietly.
"And you've got the gall to come here, as though
you can make everything right by bringing me a bottle-was
For a moment, McCoy seemed to be deciding
whether or not to smash his glass against the bulkhead.
"Doctor," Kirk said in the same calm
voice, "I
realize what it looks like. But I went to her
quarters so
she could treat the shoulder--"
"Get your story straight. She left your
quarters,"
McCoy said from between clenched teeth.
"She gave me a sedative so I could sleep.
I fell
asleep in her quarters. This morning I woke
up in my
own. You figure it out."
McCoy folded his arms tightly and considered the
Captain's words; with a sigh, he closed his eyes
and
tilted his head back. "You're telling me that
nothing
happened between you--"
"I'm not saying that I don't find her
attractive. I
won't lie to you, Bones. I do. And I can't
remember
everything that happened last night, after the medication."
McCoy flailed his arms. "Oh, that makes me
feel
just great. Thanks for the honesty, Jim. Now, am
I
supposed to feel better, knowing that you find her
attractive and you don't remember what
happened?"
Kirk stiffened. "If you can't trust either
one of us,
Doctor, you had better reexamine your
personal relationships.
Would you rather I lied?"
McCoy's anger flared. "I'd rather you left her
the
hell alone."
Kirk stood up so quickl
y that he spilled some of the
volatile liquid down the front of his tunic
and now
reeked of the stuff but was too angered to care.
"She's
not anybody's property, Bones. You don't have
the
right to say that."
"So now you're concerned about her personal
rights, eh, you, who treats every single female who
MINDSHADOW
comes aboard this ship like they're fair game--comy
think you have to play ladies' man with them all!
Emma deserves better than that to was
"That's not true! I keep my distance from every
female officer on board this ship! You should
talk!
going after a woman half your age. She
could be your
daughter!"
"She's older than Joanna," McCoy
defended himself
pathetically. "But it seems to me you've changed
your hands-off policy toward women crewmembers.
You've been flirting with Emma since she set
foot on
this ship."
Kirk thought for a moment and set his glass down on
the desk. "Then I'll stop."
His words stole the momentum from McCoy's rage.
"Well . . . what am I supposed to think,
Jim?" The
doctor shrugged helplessly. "You're younger than
I
am, handsomer--maybe you felt you needed to prove
that--"
"If you don't believe me," Kirk said
softly, "then
ask Emma--that is, if you trust her any more
than you
do me."
McCoy put his head in his hands. "You don't
know
how I feel about her, Jim. I'm an
old-fashioned Earth
boy. This isn't just some convenient affair--I
love
her."
"I know. That's why I'll stop the workouts in the
gym if you like. I'll avoid all contact with
her..."
"No, there's no point in doing that..."
McCoy's
eyes glittered with pain and alcohol. "She's
attracted
to you, isn't she?"
"You'll have to ask the lady that, Bones. I
don't
speak for her."
"I thought so." McCoy looked at a distant
spot on
the wall. "I guess I'll have to take this up with
her."
"I guess so," said Kirk.
He left the bottle with McCoy.
Kirk was on the bridge, coming to all sorts of
conclusions, none of them pleasant, about
what had
happened to his chief engineering officer. When the
intercom finally buzzed, he nearly jumped out of
his
chair. He prayed it was news of Scott; he
knew it was,
of course, Lieutenant Tomson.
"I don't think I need to remind you of the time,
sir.
Shall I put the bulletin out on Mr. Scott?"
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