A/N: Yes, this is the same story that was posted on the Sarek and Amanda Archive, but the story has been revised. I hope the changes made are worth the read.

That first evening would be the reception of the laureates, which included short instructions about what would happen at the prize-giving ceremony the next day, and the proper etiquette for accepting the prizes.

Olsen went straight to his room after the meeting with Sarek, his wife in tow. Malcolm and Amanda followed suit.

Once they were in their quarters, Mal turned to her, his hand reaching up, caressing her face. "I'm sorry you will not get to meet Skon after all. I know how much you wanted to."

Amanda felt warmth fill her. She had not quite come to that conclusion yet, and Mal was already worried about her being disappointed.

"I suppose you will have to be content with Lars and me for the time being," he went on in a light tone.

"I wonder who this Sarek is?" Amanda spoke as if to herself.

"I suppose he's one of his less important colleagues", Malcolm said, sounding deliberately uninterested. "Probably thinks he has more important things to do. You said so yourself, a few days back. He doesn't care for prizes; he is already well-known. I bet this little stunt will only make him more famous."

"That is not what I said," Amanda said quietly. "And besides, he might have a very good reason for not coming."

"What a strange girl you are, Amanda. You defend him when you can't think of a single good reason for his rudeness. Yet you constantly go on about how impossible Lars is. He might have his ticks, but he is one of the most brilliant linguists there are."

"I'm not denying that-" Amanda started to say.

"No, but you don't take it into account. You know, you were his favourite student," Malcolm said. She had been Olsen's best student. Whether she had been his favourite was debatable, but she did not argue the point.

Mal moved over to her, his voice softening as he went on. "Look, I'm not saying you should suddenly be his best friend. He will probably be in a bad mood this evening, and you really should not add to it. It won't hurt you to take his side for once, but at least don't defend Skon's actions. Can you do that for me?" Amanda smiled a tight little smile and agreed.

They dressed for the evening and left. While the Olsens would be at the reception, Mal and Amanda would wander around the town and then wait in a bar that had been recommended to them prior to coming to Babel. It played live music of a constantly high quality. The staff, as well as the entertainment, were from Alpha Centauri, only staying on Babel for the duration of the festival, like all other establishments. Once the festival was over, the town would be deserted.

It took a little getting used to, the constant night. It took Babel almost 274 days to turn around its axis and if you were on its night side, there would be no sunrise for a long time. And you had to be on Babel's night side, the alternative included being grilled alive. Diplomats! Amanda thought. They were probably the only people who could have come up with a place like Babel for the major meeting place of the Federation worlds. Well, it had an ideal location, almost equal distances away from Terra, Tellar and Andoria, and quite by chance also from Vulcan. And it had been neutral. In fact, there had never been any wish from either side to own it. That at least should have given someone the hint. Babel was dead. It was not just that it was uninhabited, it had no atmosphere, no seismic activity, not even a magnetic field. It was a rock, plain and simple. The only remotely interesting thing about it was that a Babelian day was longer than a Babelian year.

The domes were made of transparent aluminium, allowing the night sky to be seen. They provided some heat insulation, protecting the towns inside from damage during the day, but not enough to allow humanoids to stay there. For some reason the government preferred Babel to stay uninhabited. The energy was directly provided by Babel's star, making even the more conventional dilithium-powered reactors unnecessary. This way no one needed to live on Babel permanently, not even a maintenance crew. There were many small towns scattered around the planet, all built in the exact same way. The arriving guests used the town that was currently cool enough to support life, in their case Babel 16. Amanda had to admire the ingenuity in naming the towns.

Mal told her anecdotes from his friends' lives while they were waiting. Before she knew it, the professor and his wife joined them at their table. At first, Amanda was a little worried, expecting the professor to be moody, but he surprised her. He seemed to be in excellent spirits, leading the conversation from one topic to the next, never staying with one that might lead to different opinions. He never once mentioned Skon or Sarek. He was a brilliant conservationist when he chose to be, Amanda had to give him that. He could talk about almost anything in an animated manner, expertly avoiding any disagreements. And when he voiced his opinion you could never tell whether he was serious or making fun of you. He was not all that bad, objectively speaking. Many people admired him, and almost as many liked him. Amanda was not entirely certain why she did not belong to that category. She had admired him when she had been his undergraduate student. But she had never liked him.

During one of his early lectures his name had come up and he had explained that he was of Danish descent, as could be easily deduced by his name. After class, she had collected her coursework from him and had asked him in Danish how he had liked her work. He had stared at her, uncomprehending. Amanda had falsely assumed it had to do with the question and had gone on to elaborate, until he had finally interrupted her with a, "What the hell are you saying?" She had been mortified and had apologised for falsely assuming he spoke Danish. Thinking about it, there was no reason why he should speak Danish. But in his place, Danish would have been the first foreign language Amanda would have studied. The problem was, as Amanda had later found out, that Olsen did not speak any other languages. He was a theoretical linguist, and that was that. A part of Amanda rebelled against that attitude. For her, learning languages was simply part of the job.

They returned very late, after a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Despite the late hour, however, sleep eluded Amanda and after finally giving up, she sneaked out of her quarters and went down to the tiny hotel bar.

There he was, as far away from the few other guests as he could be, sitting in the corner with a bottle of Altair water and a glass in front of him. He was reading something on his PADD and did not see her approaching.

"Hello, Mr. Sarek," she said as he finally looked up. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"It is late," he said, then added as an afterthought, "Please sit down."

"I couldn't sleep. And neither could you, as it seems."

"Vulcans require less sleep than humans."

Amanda felt a little uneasy. Sarek's immobile face was unnerving. She couldn't even tell whether her company was welcome or not.

"So how did the reception go?" she asked.

Ah, finally some reaction, even if it was just one slowly raised eyebrow. "I might have made a mistake in interspecies relationships."

Amanda was intrigued. "How so?"

He took a moment longer than absolutely necessary to answer. It was clearly a hesitation. "It takes considerable time to travel from Vulcan to Babel and the only purpose in coming would be to receive a prize in person that could as easily be sent to Vulcan. Many scientists on my homeworld request exactly that. However, I was close to Babel and on my way to Vulcan. The travel here took only 28.3 hours and there is a fast ship on the last day of the festival leaving for Vulcan. I assumed it would be more polite to send a substitute rather than not come at all. I meant no offence, it seemed a logical course of action. I am not sure the festival committee understood this."

"Well, I do understand. Mr. Skon was probably otherwise occupied, but you still wanted to show that you take the festival seriously. So you took the effort and turned up. But I was wondering..."

"Is there something you do not understand?."

"Uh, I suppose, yes."

"Please ask. Somehow, you seem to be the only one here who understands my reasoning. I will try to explain the best I can."

"Why did Skon ask you to come?"

"I tried to explain that. The distance from..."

Amanda interrupted him. "No, no. I mean why you specifically? Do you work with him?"

"He is my father."

They sat in silence for a while, Sarek reading his PADD, and Amanda watching him. She felt herself calm down. She had talked to him and he had explained his reasons, which were surprisingly simple and straightforward. Amanda felt something straighten in the world. After some time she said good night and went back to her room. Part of her enjoyed the prospect of telling her companions that they had been wrong, another part did not want to part with the knowledge, wanted to treat it like a precious secret. She crept inside her bed. Malcolm didn't wake when she slid under the covers.