You Must Remember This
"Of course you will stay with us on Vulcan."
Ambassador Sarek sounded almost surprised. The idea that his son's friend would stay anywhere else while studying on Vulcan as the first-ever Maimonides Fellow was completely illogical.
Commander Spock was quick to echo his father. "There is no need for you to obtain inferior lodging near the medical school when our home is close to it. In addition," he added, "my mother would enjoy the company of another Human."
McCoy started to protest that he couldn't possibly intrude for an entire summer. The Ambassador raised an eyebrow at him.
Do all Vulcans do this, or just the ones in this particular family? McCoy wondered.
He gave in. "Who am I to upset the state of Terran-Vulcan relations?"
He was met with polite but blank stares. "What I mean, Ambassador, Commander, is that I am honored and pleased to stay with you during my fellowship. Which, if I may repeat, I am very grateful you were able to arrange, sir."
"There is no need to thank me again when you have already done so," Sarek answered. "You must remember this."
McCoy sighed to himself. Down south, people were super-polite to their friends' parents. This won't work on Vulcan, he thought.
He turned to Spock. "The summer orientation begins on Standard 21 June," McCoy said. "My last final is 12 June. I haven't booked a shuttle seat yet. What day would be convenient for me to arrive on Vulcan?"
"There is no need for that, Doctor," Spock said. "You will accompany my father and me when we leave for Vulcan on 15 June, if that day is still acceptable to you, sa-mekh."
"It is," Sarek answered. "I will let your mother know to expect us on 17 June. She will be most pleased to see both of you. You are correct, sa-fu, your ko-mekh will enjoy having another human around, especially after you return to Terra. How long will you stay with us?"
"Eighteen days, sa-mekh."
"That is acceptable." Sarek glanced toward his desk, which McCoy thought was surprisingly messy for a Vulcan. Spock's office was immaculate. Sarek had every gadget imaginable on his desk: PADDs, styluses, laptops, even books, were scattered over it. McCoy noticed no less than four monitors as well.
"Gentlemen, I have a meeting that begins in 22 minutes, and must excuse myself to prepare," the older Vulcan said. Really, McCoy thought, he looks like he could be Spock's older brother, not his father. He guessed that Vulcans age at half the Human rate. He couldn't wait to begin his studies and learn more about this hyper-polite yet mysterious race.
Spock nodded. "Thank you, sa-mekh. Sochya eh dif."
"Dif-tor heh smusma, sa-fu," Sarek answered. He turned to McCoy. "Good day, Doctor."
"Good day, sir," McCoy added. Twenty-two minutes, he thought. He'd better get used to this kind of hyper-accuracy as well.
Sa-mekh: father
Sa-fu: son
Ko-mekh: mother
Sochya eh dif: peace and long life
Dif-tor heh smusma: live long and prosper
Spock and McCoy made their way out the Vulcan Embassy. Sarek had offered them his limousine to take them back to campus, but they declined. It was a pleasant day out, Spock had said, and it only took a half-hour walking with a human to return to the academy campus.
"I had no idea your parents would open their home to me, Spock," McCoy said, huffing a little as he tried to keep up with Spock. How the hell does Uhura keep up with him? "It's incredibly generous."
"Vulcans are known for hospitality, McCoy," Spock answered. He turned his head to look at the doctor. "You are housebroken, I hope."
"Your sharp wit kills me, Spock. I can only hope your mother is as retiring and shy as her son."
"My mother is hardly the shy type. The only reason you are staying with us is because if she were to learn that a friend of mine was living nearby, in student quarters, she would be quite annoyed with me. I personally have no problem placing you in inferior quarters…but I do not wish to upset my mother."
"And here I was ready to diagnose you as a bona fide daddy's boy."
They went on in this manner for several minutes.
McCoy abruptly ended some particularly lame banter about doctors who run out of patients. "What a stroke of luck for me that that you and your father are going to Vulcan! Your father's shuttle should be a little more comfortable than steerage class on United Shuttles."
Spock's mouth twitched slightly, a sign that he was amused by the comment or still internally cracking up over his own jokes. "I visit Vulcan every year after I hand in final grades," he answered. "The embassy shuttle is quite adequate for the 50 hours we will be aboard. There is a kitchen, a dining area, sleeping quarters, showers—"
"I get the point, Spock," the doctor cut him off. "You rich guys have it made. What I need to know is, will you be cooking on board? I'll need to confiscate those spices you nearly killed me with at your little Vulcan tea parties this semester."
In truth, the weekly practice sessions Spock hosted at his off-campus flat (he called them bull sessions) for students studying Vulcan had done wonders for McCoy's confidence in his ability to speak Vulcan. The food Spock prepared was an unexpected hit as well, particularly among the "sensitive vegetarian types" as McCoy called them.
But Spock had proven to be a generous instructor. He'd given McCoy tickets for a Vulcan film festival, recommending the medium as an excellent way to observe sentence structure. McCoy had even met an atttractive Vulcan female at one of Spock's tea parties to take to a couple of movies. He was becoming rather fond of her only to learn that she was planning to return to her home planet to get married after the semester was over. His luck, he figured. Maybe he'd meet a nice Vulcan lady doctor this summer.
In return for Spock's generosity, he'd offered to hang out with him to return the favor, so to speak, to help him become more at ease with Humans. Captain Pike had been urging him to be more social and McCoy didn't mind hanging out with his instructor. For one thing, it was an antidote to Jim Kirk's constant nagging to go out and "meet some new girls." He liked Kirk but was a little put-off by his endless pursuit of unavailable women, particularly his own buddy Uhura who he now suspected was involved with...his new buddy Spock. Weird as that might seem, they were actually a good match for one another. Both were extremely smart, extremely good-looking, and extremely nerdy. Someday, McCoy thought, they would have gorgeous, nerdy kids with pointy ears and send them out to the far reaches of the galaxy to annoy new-found civilizations.
"I was planning to bring along some of the swill from mess for you," Spock responded, jolting McCoy out of his musings. "Since the shuttle is quite comfortable, I realize it will not provide an opportunity for you to kvetch about. So you will have your re-heated swill." He almost smirked at McCoy.
"Me? Complain? Only when there is a solid reason, a logical one, to back me up." He cleared his throat. "I know you drink wine on occasion and I think I've seen you with a beer-probably a light beer, knowing you-once or twice, but do you have anything on board that real men drink?"
"Do not fear, Doctor, I will ensure that the shuttle is properly stocked with your favorite whiskey. Maker's Mark, I believe?"
"Ah, you know me too well, my green-blooded minder."
"It is more a matter of caution. That moonshine you doctors concoct in the compounding lab is the last thing I want on my father's shuttle. If it were to spill, it would no doubt burn a hole into the fuselage."
They arrived on Vulcan late in the evening two days after their departure, delayed by a dry storm that swirled sand and dust for miles around the spaceport. Sarek was whisked through Security. Spock joined him just a few minutes later, greeted by a small throng of media.
McCoy thought his Starfleet ID would quickly get him through Security. He was mistaken.
The inspector looked at his Starfleet-issued passport, which featured a photo taken only hours after he had extracted Jim Kirk from a bar fight. He had been hung over that day, his hair mussed up, his eyes glassy. He'd often though about getting another photo taken but never got around to it.
The Vulcan security officer looked at the photo and at McCoy several times. "Why did you say you are here?" he asked. McCoy pushed his visa at him a third time. "Here's my student visa. I am a doctor attending Vulcan Medical Institute for the summer."
"If you are already a doctor, then why are you attending medical school?"
"I told you, I have a Fellowship. From Vulcans…to learn about how to treat them…Vulcans, who, you know, live on Vulcan."
McCoy kept straining his neck to see if he could summon Spock or Sarek for help, to rescue him from this damn security fool. There seemed to be a commotion around them. Great. Just what I need—to be caught up in a riot of logical elves.