Chapter 3
As Spock's son James had been born a citizen of Vulcan, there was no great difficulty beaming him down to Space Central to have his condition re-evaluated. The healers in charge of medical clearance scanned the boy three times and conferred for nearly an hour before approving his release into the population.
Together with his son, Spock returned to ShiKahr. James had never seen the land of his Vulcan forebears. Exalting in his new-found health, he skipped and jumped and bounced beside Spock as they passed through the warm, lamp-lit streets. Spock watched the boy and pondered. It was difficult to believe that someone so full of life had been dead only hours ago.
When they arrived at Ambassador Sarek's home, James quieted and reached for his father's hand. A female attendant welcomed them and led the way to the master bedroom, as if Spock did not know it well. There on her pillows Amanda lay waiting, thin and pallid in the light of a bedside lamp.
"Gramma!" cried James. He rushed over to the bed, climbed on, and kissed her with a human exuberance that belied his Vulcanoid appearance.
"James, you look wonderful!" Amanda said, eyes sparkling. She turned to Spock. "Sarek said you were searching for Yanash. He did this, didn't he?"
"Yes," Spock admitted.
Amanda's smile broadened as she studied her grandson. "It's a miracle."
There was that word again. The scientist in Spock—and the Vulcan—inwardly flinched. Judging by his mother's manner, she was fast becoming a devotee of the renegade. Levelly he said, "I want Father to see James. I would like his opinion on the matter."
Her smile faded. "When I told your father that James was healed, that you were bringing him, he made it a point to be elsewhere. Believe me, it's just as well. I've never seen him so…" She stopped and her expression grew pained. "He's deeply troubled."
Spock felt a twisting in his heart. If in fact she was dying, it should be in peace, not torn by family discord. A saying of Yanash rose, unbidden, from the store of memories Spock had shared in Sparn's mind. "This life is one of trials. You must never value peace above truth. Listen, my coming will drive a wedge between father and son, mother and daughter. My name will be the downfall of many a clan, but those who remain faithful to the truth will be rewarded."
Faithful to the truth. As a scientist, Spock's entire life had been devoted to the truth. Clan Talek-sen-deen must not fall. With a feeling of urgency, he lifted his son from the bed and set him on his feet.
"James," he told the boy, "I need to speak privately to your grandmother. Ask the attendant to take you into the garden. She can show you blossoms that glow in the dark."
James left and closed the door behind him.
Spock turned to the fragile figure on the bed. "Mother…since boyhood I have sought the truth in all things. I feel that I must learn more about this Yanash, so for now I intend to join his followers…as an investigator only. Tell Sarek that I share his concerns and will keep him apprised of my findings."
Amanda's eyes filled with tears. She held out her hand to him and he grasped it, papery-thin skin and bones.
"I'm so glad you're staying on Vulcan," she said softly, and squeezed his fingers. "Keep an open mind. Yanash is not like your brother Sybok, you'll see. Everything he does is good. I'd be out there myself, if I were stronger. God be with you. Go…"
God be with you. She knew he did not believe in a deity, yet once before she had said that to him—at age 19, when in defiance of his father's wishes, he left for Starfleet Academy. Now, bending low, Spock touched his mother's cheek and for the first time since earliest childhood found the strength to defy Vulcan custom and tell her, "I love you."
oooo
Holding his valise, Spock stood on the outskirts of Yanash's current encampment. He thought of the Liberty speeding away from Vulcan, and wondered if he had made the correct decision. He had spent the last two years of his life collecting a Starfleet pension, occasionally working as a scientific consultant, and taking on diplomatic assignments for the Federation when it suited him. Some might call it a selfish life, but it had actually involved a great deal of sacrifice for him to forego space exploration in favor of his growing family. Now he would be worlds away from his wife and children and did not know when he might rejoin them. Meanwhile their only contact would consist of subspace messages routed through his wrist phone.
But he was acting for the good of Vulcan, and with Sarek's full support. After he had spoken to his father, fully airing his concerns, Sarek agreed that it would be very useful to have an observer in Yanash's inner circle. Spock would enter the camp of Yanash as an agent of truth.
Yanash seldom visited cities anymore. As he travelled, his followers erected orderly villages of temperature-regulating tents within the safebelts. It was midday in this time zone. The ferocity of Belaar's heat had driven all but a few children indoors. Spock asked one of them for directions to the Teacher's tent. A girl looked curiously at the sand abrasions on his face before pointing toward one of the larger shelters.
Spock went inside. The interior was refreshingly cool. The pale surfaces of the tent cast a pleasant glow over the men and women dining at a large portable table.
Sparn noticed him immediately and began to rise, but Yanash waved Sparn back into his seat and came personally to greet Spock.
Yanash spread his fingers in the customary Vulcan salute and spoke a greeting of Surak that had fallen out of popular usage. "I welcome you in peace, my friend."
Raising his hand, Spock answered, "May your peace return to you." With an effort he added, "You returned my son to me, and I said nothing. I thank you now."
Yanash gave him a warm look. His hand settled over Spock's forearm, and the strangely electrifying touch seemed to seek out the empty places inside Spock. Though the sensation made him uncomfortable, he merely took note of it and did not pull away.
Quietly Yanash said, "Vulcans find it difficult to express gratitude. Always we strive to be self-sufficient and correct in every detail, so as to spare the pride. But valuable lessons can be learned from failure. The taste of humility can be very sweet—can it not? Come, join us at the table."
Yanash seated him conspicuously at his side. A Vulcan poured water and set a platter of sliced fruit within Spock's reach. But he was not interested in food. He could not seem to take his eyes off this young, powerful man who had brought James back from the dead.
"This is my nephew," he heard Sparn say, "S'chn T'gai Spock."
Spock made himself look at the others. There were nods of acknowledgement. Most would have heard of him—Ambassador Sarek's son, the captain in Starfleet, the half-human. He waited as the men and women told him their names, then turned back to Yanash.
Sparn spoke again. "Spock has sent his family home and will be staying here with us."
Addressing Yanash, Spock added, "With your permission, sir…"
Yanash's blue eyes twinkled with an amusement not ordinarily seen in Vulcans. "The scientist wishes to observe. Spock, you are most welcome—but what is it that you seek to learn?"
"The truth, sir," Spock replied. "Nothing more and nothing less."
Yanash nodded as if in approval. His steady gaze shifted to the instrument hanging by a strap from Spock's shoulder. "I see you have brought a tricorder. Go ahead, do as you wish. Analyze me."
Spock hesitated. He had brought his tricorder in the hope of examining Yanash, but not in so bold a manner. Yet Yanash did not seem at all disturbed.
"Very well," Spock said. Acutely aware of the others watching him, he aimed his tricorder at Yanash and viewed the readings that appeared on its screen. His eyebrow climbed. Switching off the instrument, he squarely met the unVulcan humor in those haunting blue eyes. "It would seem that you are truly Vulcan."
"Seem?" prompted Yanash with a disconcerting smile.
oooo
For several weeks Spock travelled in the company of Yanash, closely observing the charismatic leader while sending a steady outflow of reports to his father. One day they encamped near Vulcan's Lesser Sea. It was a densely populated region. The size of the crowds became so great that Yanash climbed atop a volcanic formation in order to be seen and heard by everyone as he taught. When darkness fell, many of the people went away to their homes. After the evening meal Yanash withdrew for a time, as was his custom. Spock inconspicuously shadowed the Teacher as Yanash walked along the seashore, stopped in a secluded area, and assumed a posture of meditation on the sand.
Spock was about to contact Sarek when he heard footsteps coming his way. Seeing it was Sparn, he nodded toward Yanash and quietly said, "I should like to question him regarding his meditation technique."
"He is talking to his father," Sparn said.
Spock swung around and stared at his uncle. "I beg your pardon?"
"You have heard him say that our God is a God of love."
"Yes," Spock replied. Hearing it repeated by Sparn made him particularly uncomfortable.
Sparn continued. "Yanash also tells us that this same loving God is our Father. Therefore, logic dictates that such a Father would desire a close relationship with his children."
Spock thought of his difficult relationship with Sarek; of how deeply he desired something better between him and his own children; of the pain he experienced each time that desire was thwarted. "If God truly existed, we would be his creatures, not his children, and far too numerous to merit any of his attention."
"Yanash would say that you are placing our Vulcan limitations upon a limitless God."
"Show me this God," Spock said with some impatience.
As always these days, Sparn had an answer ready. "Spock, as a scientist you have seen Him reflected in the awesome complexity of His creation. He also revealed Himself through inspired writings such as the works of Mokavar and Spock the Uniter, for whom you were named. It was under God's guidance that Surak formulated the rules of discipline and logic. And now, in Yanash…"
"A more direct revelation?" Spock made no attempt to hold back the sarcasm. "Ah, yes…Yanash as messiah. The Shiav."
Sparn gazed at him in silence for a long moment. When at last he spoke, his voice held an unmistakable note of sympathy. "Spock, I did not come here to speak of Yanash. There has been a report. Your mother has died."
Spock experienced an upwelling of grief so intense that it swayed him. He had dismissed Yanash's grim prophecy because, each day, Sarek said she was growing stronger. What could have happened? Why had Sarek not informed him of her passing? He must be deeply shaken.
Later, when Spock felt sure of his own composure, he called his father. Amanda had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage; death was almost instantaneous. There would be a traditional dawn ceremony at Mount Seleya, but Sarek thought it best that Spock—as an apparent devotee of Yanash—not associate with other members of the family. They argued over the form of burial Sarek had chosen. Amanda was human, and Spock felt she should be interred as one. But in the end, he had no say in the matter.
oooo
Sparn did not like the look of Spock. As they arrived before dawn at Seleya, he stayed close to his nephew, but Spock was not his only concern. Yanash and three others had come with them. They stood together in the torchlight, waiting in silence for Amanda's ashes to be brought forward by the priests.
During his first month of teaching, Yanash had been cast out of this very temple. Now, as mourners gathered, Sparn noticed a subtle repositioning of temple guards. Clearly Yanash was being kept under close surveillance.
The stars were fading when Sarek arrived. Sparn was discomfited to see his estranged wife T'Prinka, as well as his daughters and their families accompanying the ambassador. Across the compound, T'Prinka briefly met Sparn's eyes, and he felt a stirring of tenderness toward her.
Sarek did not spare even a glance for his son.
The eastern sky burned red with the approach of dawn. A sudden, chilling wind set the torches flickering. White-robed attendants chanted and shook their bell-racks until Eridani's rim touched the horizon. Then, silence.
A solitary priestess came out of the temple bearing a small titanium chest. Sparn heard Spock sigh. He wondered if his nephew would go forward, as was his right, and scatter the ashes with his father. But Spock remained at Sparn's side as Sarek received the chest. Together they watched Sarek walk to the edge of the cliff and remove the lid. The wind caught Amanda's ashes and sent them streaming to the desert far below.
Sarek returned the chest and left with his retinue at once.
Sparn followed Spock over to the cliff. The wind there was stronger, colder.
Quietly Spock said, "There is nothing left. He should have taken her body home to Earth. He should have given her a grave…with grass and flowers. She loved roses, but could never grow them in this climate."
Thinking to console him, Sparn said, "Her body is gone, but your mother lives on."
Spock turned aside and retreated a few steps, where he stood alone among the pillars.
Daylight arrived. Sparn looked for Yanash and found him in another part of the compound, with a pair of kolinahru.
Yanash was berating them. "You modern kolinahru enshrine the katra and neglect the soul. I tell you that the katra is a storehouse of memories, nothing more—yet you sit and meditate before the globes at Gol, you pursue the discipline so you can commune with vrekatras as if they were gods. I tell you, it would be better if every globe in the Hall of Ancient Thought were lost, than for you to lose your immortal souls worshipping them."
One of men spoke icily. "Yanash, legal son of Norek, how do you come by your great knowledge? Are you not a computer technician? Did you acquire this marvelous new understanding from one of your associates? A Golheni? A failure? A confused half-human?"
Sparn inwardly bristled at the insults, but Yanash remained calm as he replied, "My Father instructs me, and I know what He tells me is true."
"You know," the kolinahr master scoffed. "You know. What is this power that you hold over people? By what method do you control their minds?"
Sparn found his nephew standing beside him, observing the scene with curiosity.
"I will answer your question," said Yanash, "if you first answer mine. You say you have rid yourselves of every trace of emotion. Yet you fear me. How can that be?"
They could not admit to fear, yet to deny their fears would have been untruthful. Trapped, the kolinahrus silently turned away.
oooo
All week Spock mourned the passing of his mother, eating and sleeping very little. He could not seem to escape the memory of her ashes on the wind—the human warmth he had once found so embarrassing, reduced to dust. In the end, he had voiced his love for her. It had taken the threat of death to drag it from him—those simple words she had longed all her life to hear.
He had always excused himself from any responsibility for her emotional needs. After all, she had chosen to wed a Vulcan, and Spock was a Vulcan son. But now it seemed to him that he had been a very poor son.
On the eighth day, Yanash passed through the northern settlement of Pashir, where Spock and his mother had spent many summers during his boyhood. As evening approached, they moved on, encamping high in the mountains of PaGol. While the others sat dining, Spock entered Yanash's tent and sat cross-legged near the door, listening.
Sparn noticed him and called out, "Nephew, come eat with us."
Spock declined. Suddenly a hooded figure entered the tent and briefly hesitated near him. A scent of perfume lingered as the figure continued on toward Yanash. There, before the Teacher, she threw back her hood, revealing a fiery cascade of hair that jogged Spock's memory.
There was no doubt as to her identity as she dropped to her knees and spoke in a tearful voice. "Lord Yanash, I want to follow you! I want to make a new life!"
Spock rose at once and hurried over. Fear flared in the young woman's eyes as she recognized him.
Standing over her, Spock said, "I know this person. She is a half-human named T'Naisa Brandt, and she is dangerous. She should be searched for weapons."
Still at table, Yanash looked up at him. "Spock, you are very quick to point out her faults."
"Among other things, her deceptions sent me to prison for a crime I did not commit."
"I don't deny it," T'Naisa cried in Standard. Although like Spock she appeared Vulcan, she had been raised to express her emotions freely. "I wish I'd never done it. I'm trying to change."
Yanash reached out and touched her tear-dampened cheek. Gazing into her eyes, he said, "T'Naisa, your sins are forgiven and you are welcome here."
The words roused Spock to anger. He coldly watched T'Naisa collapse against Yanash's knees and sob pathetically.
Yanash turned to Spock. His steady eyes seemed to find the deepest recesses of Spock's heart and see him for who he was—an unbeliever set on exposing Yanash and ending his hold on the planet. Yet his tone was as gentle as ever. "It is true that she has sinned against you." And he glanced around the table. "But who among you has not brought pain to someone else? Do not be so quick to condemn. Be quick to forgive, and you will be true sons and daughter of your Father-God."
Spock turned and strode out of the tent. Consumed by dark thoughts, he wandered alone under the stars. He had heard Yanash teaching that Vulcan hearts had become as hard as stone. His own heart felt unbearably heavy. He did not need to be reminded of the pain he had brought to others. His hand still felt the pressure of his mother's fingers when he told her that he loved her. A human's son for sixty-seven years, and he had given her but one moment of joy.
Off in the distance a LeMatya screamed with all the anguish of a tormented soul. Spock stopped and listened. It came again, the same chilling cry of summer that had sent a little halfling boy running from his bed, into the comfort of his mother's arms.
There was never a time of need when his mother had not welcomed him. Why had he left her? Had Yanash not warned that she was about to die? And the bitter thought came to him: Why had Yanash, with all his strange power, allowed her to slip away? Because I am a skeptic?
oooo
The fever struck suddenly in the night. Sparn awakened on the floor of the tent, breathless and confused. He felt smothered by the blanket covering him and tossed it aside. The sense of panic grew.
Spock! Where was Spock?
Peering into the darkness, he found Spock lying nearby, sound asleep. The panic began to subside. After so many hostile years, he now felt only a great fondness for his nephew. It was so good to see Spock resting that he was reluctant to disturb him. And, if the truth be known, he was ashamed.
He waited an hour, shivering with fever chills in the dark. Then at last he rose, touched Spock on the shoulder, and spoke his name very softly so as not to disturb the other men sleeping in the tent. Spock woke instantly.
"Come," Sparn whispered.
Spock responded without question. They slipped on their sand boots and stepped outside. T'Khut had risen in full phase, casting her orange glow over the night. Even before Sparn could bring himself to speak, his appearance betrayed him.
"You look ill," Spock said with concern.
Sparn's embarrassment intensified. Sighing, he shook his head. "No, Spock. Not ill. But few men of my age…" His voice trailed off. He could see by Spock's expression that he understood and was dealing with some embarrassment of his own.
At last Spock said, "This…presents somewhat of a problem. Does it not?"
An understatement. T'Prinka was gone. Even if she agreed to accommodate him, it would not be the gentle reunion Sparn wished for them. Pon farr was savage in its demands. Hopefully he said, "Perhaps it will subside."
"That is a possibility," Spock agreed. Then he added, "Perhaps Yanash can be of some assistance..."
Sparn did not want to be seen by anyone in his present state. He felt betrayed by his body—dirty and degraded. "No, Spock. Not yet. For now, if you will just watch over me?"
At dawn the other men awakened and left the tent. By mid-morning, Sparn was pacing the cramped area like a nervous animal. He did not know how much longer he could resist the burning of his Vulcan blood. He no longer had the strength of youth. What would happen when his control gave way?
Humiliated, he turned to the corner where his nephew was faithfully keeping vigil and said, "Get Yanash."
Spock left at once. Alone, Sparn forced himself to lie down, but the demands of his body soon had him thrashing from side to side. Madness lurked in the corners of his mind. He closed his eyes tightly against it.
There was sound, movement. A gentle touch on his arm roused him. Yanash crouched at his side.
Desperate, Sparn reached out with trembling hands. "Master—help me!"
Yanash glanced up at Spock, who was standing close beside them. "Bring water."
Spock filled a cup from a container inside the tent and handed it to Yanash.
Holding the cup with both hands, Yanash raised his eyes upward and said, "Father, you are the Source of all good things. In your mercy bless this cup and bring relief to he who drinks it. Release Sparn from the bondage of his blood."
Yanash held the cup to Sparn's lips, and he drank. With each swallow he could feel the fire inside him cooling. Then the cup was empty, the flames quenched. Astounded, Sparn sat up…and found himself surrounded by the inner circle of disciples. The men stared, open-mouthed, as if disbelieving the evidence of their own eyes.
Sparn did not presume to understand what had been done to him; he knew only that he believed. Casting aside all dignity, he bowed low at Yanash's feet and begged, "Shiav, give us this water always."
Yanash's eyes moved from one disciple to another as he said, "I am the living water. Anyone who drinks of me will have life that is eternal. And the water that I give for you is my own blood."
Silence descended over the tent.
Spock was the first to speak. "Fascinating. A very similar statement is found in the Christian scriptures held sacred by many humans."
Yanash looked steadily at him, but did not say anything.
Spock cocked his head. "Sir, when you say you 'give your blood', do you mean that…literally?"
Yanash said, "I will go the way that has been appointed to me."
Sparn saw his own confusion and dismay reflected on the faces of the other disciples.
Sorel turned abruptly to Spock. "I know the scriptures of which you speak. Such a thing cannot happen here. There is no death penalty on Vulcan. Even if Yanash were to be arrested…"
"Arrested!" another scoffed. "Impossible. Yanash has not violated any law. Vulcan is a civilized world…."
Sparn rose. "A world whose leaders are growing uneasy. Historically, when those in power feel threatened…"
"Feel?" Repeated Sorel. "Sparn, we are not humans here. Vulcan is ruled by reason, by logic…"
"It is good to hear you speak of logic," Spock interjected wryly. "I thought perhaps you had forgotten how."
The discussion continued for some time before Sparn realized that Yanash was no longer among them.
oooo
Spock had settled upon the main weakness in Yanash's organization—clearly, it was his closest followers, those whom he had begun to call his "Chosen Ones". Almost without exception they were a young, inexperienced group, given to argument and confusion.
"Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter." With a sense of irony Spock transmitted the Biblical quote to his father before joining the others.
Since Sparn's healing, the ministry of Yanash had entered a new phase. Each night he gathered his select few for some moments of extra instruction. Together with his uncle, Spock was among those who always showed up to listen. It troubled Spock that T'Naisa Brandt also came to the tent each night—so much so, that he finally took up the matter with Yanash.
It was quite late, and everyone else had left when Spock approached the Teacher. "Sir," he said, "why do you allow T'Naisa Brandt in here with the others?"
Yanash responded sadly. "Your heart is still closed to her, but I tell you, there will come a time when you welcome T'Naisa with outstretched arms. As for now, it should not matter to you whether or not I allow her near. I include you. Is that not enough?"
Spock gave no reply. Yanash seemed to know everything. Although Spock moved freely among the disciples, he was an outsider and more—he was an informer. If Yanash knew, why did he permit him to remain?
Spock was turning to leave when Yanash touched him on the shoulder. Instinctively Spock stiffened his barriers against the Teacher's alluring mental energy and drew away.
"Speak your mind," Yanash urged. "This is not only about T'Naisa, is it?"
As Spock faced the enigmatic young Vulcan, his anger flared anew. "Why ask? Do you not already know the answer? You even told Sparn that my mother was about to die. I realize that I am going to sound ungrateful. After all, you restored my son to life and you relieved my uncle during his Time. Yet in my mother's case you did nothing."
The blue eyes held only a gentle reproach. "Nothing, Spock? Did I not send Sparn to forewarn you? Set aside your resentment and put your mind at ease. She is with God."
Spock could scarcely contain his frustration. "'With God'? What precisely does that mean?"
"Do you not yet know?" Yanash said in response. Nothing more.
The following night, they gathered yet again.
"Yanash," said Sorel, "you speak of love, but Surak seems to tell us that logic is greater."
"What is logic without love?" Yanash replied. "Logic gives rise to reason, but love gives rise to compassion. And reason without compassion is dead." His eyes briefly settled on Spock, then moved on. "There is one among you who learned this lesson among the stars. Simple feeling. Without it, our lives are barren."
Spock knew that Yanash meant him, and perhaps T'Naisa did, too. Spock glanced her way; their eyes briefly met before she turned aside, blushing. It made him wonder if she might still be infatuated with him. The thought was disconcerting but short-lived as his attention returned to the conversation.
Yanash was speaking to Sorel. "…and since you have been with me from the beginning, leadership will fall to you when I am gone."
"Gone?" Sorel's cry of dismay was repeated throughout the group. "Yanash, surely you are not going to leave us!"
Solemnly Yanash said, "I have very little time left."
Now the questions came so rapidly that they overlapped. "What do you mean? Are you going somewhere? When will you come back? Can we go with you?"
Spock looked on, intently awaiting the "Master's" response.
Yanash called for silence and addressed them all. "Do not be afraid. I tell you now plainly, so that when it happens, your courage will not fail. Listen to me; soon I will be arrested. Many of you will also be arrested, but no harm will come to you."
Suddenly everyone was on their feet, talking, protesting.
Once more Yanash signaled for quiet. "I have shown you the Father's love. Trust me. Even though I die, I will not leave you."
Voices filled the tent. "Die?" "Do you mean killed?" "But who would kill you?" "Such a thing cannot happen here."
Yanash waited patiently for them to subside. "My work here is almost finished. When I lie down in your place, you will know that I go willingly, because I love you. I will lay down my life, and out of my body will spring a fountain of living water."
Spock attempted to make sense of the assertion. Shortly after death, tissues began to break down and exude fluids, but a "fountain of living water"? The statement was illogical and absurd.
Yanash bid the Chosen Ones to form a circle around him. Standing aside, Spock watched the Teacher go to Sorel and gently embrace him. Slowly, silently, Yanash moved around the circle, clasping each Vulcan, meeting their embarrassment and confusion with all the calm authority of a parent.
Spock's heart pounded as Yanash suddenly turned and approached him. Their eyes met.
"No." The whispered word came unbidden from Spock. He did not want this strange man touching him, yet he could not seem to move away.
Yanash reached out and held him close, overwhelming Spock's barriers with a tsunami of love. As Yanash moved on, a peculiar thought lingered in Spock's shaken mind: Is this what it means? Is this what it means to 'be with God'? But recovering his control, he firmly rejected the notion. Yanash's detractors were correct. This was clearly some form of mental manipulation, and all of Vulcan was in danger from it.
Now Yanash stood in their midst and said, "Do you understand what I have done? I have told you to touch and hold your children. Now I say: embrace one another. The fact that you are telepaths does not mean that you should hold yourselves aloof behind shielded minds. As I have given you my love, so welcome others, so that all of Vulcan will see and know that your Father is a God of love."
Without another word, Yanash turned and walked out of the tent. For an awkward moment no one moved or said anything. Then with lowered eyes Spock listened to the hushed comments begin.
"How can we do this?" "He is asking too much." "We would be ridiculed." "It is not dignified." "After all, we are Vulcans."
Never had their discord been more evident. Spock left the tent at once and called Sarek on his wrist phone. He was in the midst of a furtive conversation when T'Naisa appeared out of the dark, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Spock—what are you doing?"
He swiftly broke the connection and said, "That is no concern of yours. Stay away from me."
But she did not leave. Instead, she gazed at him so long and hard that he turned and strode into the shadows.
oooo
Though the eve of Surak's birth heralded a time of celebration throughout Vulcan, Sparn noticed that Yanash scarcely touched any of the special foods that were being prepared. Sparn had never seen the Master forego a meal. Often Yanash would accept invitations to dine with people they met during their travels. But today Yanash avoided not only the food, but even the crowd that had gathered to see him.
Late in the afternoon Yanash called his Chosen Ones together with Sparn and Spock, whom he always allowed near him. They boarded three skimmers lent to them for the day by locals and withdrew to a remote area of nearby Ar-Bekani Preserve. There, Yanash sat down amid the volcanic mud pots and gathered the men around him—all but Spock, who had wandered off by himself. And they waited. Why? Was Spock's presence somehow important?
Sparn wondered if someone had carried last night's remarks to the Master, and if Yanash had chosen this lonely place to express his disappointment in them.
There was a sound of sand boots and as Spock returned with tricorder in hand, Yanash asked him, "Have you finished with your business?"
Spock's eyebrow climbed. "Yes," he replied, and took his usual place beside Sparn.
Now, with everyone assembled, Yanash began to speak. "Listen to me carefully, for soon I will no longer be with you."
"But Master—" Sorel began to object.
"Silence," said Yanash. "Have you no faith? Open your hearts and your minds to me, and do not be troubled. You have seen the works that I have done, and through you my work will continue if only you believe in me. An hour of great darkness is coming. You will experience sorrow and confusion, but know that I will see you again. In that day you will rejoice and everything will become clear to you."
Yanash looked at each of them in turn. "Take heed, for pride is the sin from which all evil flows, Learn humility. Do not judge one another, but bear all things with the same love that I have shown you. This is how everyone will know that you belong to me—if you value the practice of love even above logic."
After he had spoken these words, he asked that a cup of water be brought to him. Taking the red crystal goblet into his hands, he lifted his eyes to the evening sky and said, "Father, I have completed the work that you gave me to do. Now I am praying for these men because I am returning to you, but they must remain behind. I have revealed the truth to them, that you are a loving Father. Yet there is one here who still prefers darkness over the light. Keep them all under your protection; make them united even as we are united, and preserve them from every evil."
Raising the cup, he continued, "Loving Father, accept this life-giving gift of water and consecrate it in my name. May it sanctify all who receive it in faith." With his gentle eyes upon them, he said, "Take, all of you, and drink. This is my blood that will be poured out for you, the cup of everlasting salvation. My Chosen Ones, do this in my memory, always."
Solemnly the crystal cup passed from hand to hand. Then, at the bidding of Yanash, Sorel then offered the cup to Sparn. Clearly this was no ordinary water, for it left him feeling closer than ever to the Master. Very carefully he handed the cup to his nephew, hoping the "living water" would awaken Spock's faith in the Shiav. But when Spock declined to drink, Sparn himself finished the last precious drops.
Yanash bowed his head. He covered his face with his hands and openly struggled with his emotions. Rising, he walked away and lingered alone in the shadow of a skimmer.
Sparn cast an uneasy glance at the others, and his eyes came to rest on Spock. Who among them preferred darkness over light? His nephew's face was stony.
A heavy silence stretched until the first stars appeared in the sky. Suddenly Sparn became aware of a faint hum, like a distant swarm of insects.
The hum was growing louder when Yanash returned to them and calmly said, "It is time. Be in peace, my children."
Military transports lifted over the ridge and descended upon them in a stinging whirl of sand. Shielding his eyes, Sparn struggled to his feet. The noise subsided. The sand had barely begun to settle when hatches hissed open, releasing a flood of armed Vulcan police. In an instant they had everyone surrounded and locked into energy cuffs.
"What is the meaning of this?" Sparn demanded. "We have not violated any laws."
A police officer grasped him by the neck and held a scanner up to his eyes. He checked the reading and said, "Here is one of them."
The same officer scanned Spock and said, "This is the other."
"The other?" repeated Sparn. "For what crime are we being arrested?"
Every member of the group had gone under the scanner. Yanash was taken aboard one transport, and his followers herded toward another.
An officer returned to Sparn and uncuffing him, said, "You are not under arrest." Then he released Spock as well.
The transports roared into the sky, dipped over the ridge, and disappeared. When the air cleared, Sparn and Spock stood alone upon the sand.
For a moment Sparn was too shaken to speak. Then finding his voice, he said, "This is an outrage!"
He looked at his nephew. Darkness was gathering, but for now he could clearly see the distant look in Spock's eyes.
"Why were we not taken?" Sparn asked.
Spock gave no reply.
