The Visit
by
Pat Foley
Chapter 6
Amanda's story
While Spock was out on the Forge, the skies clouded up in anticipation of a late afternoon thunderstorm, rare, but not unheard of in the Fall. Then, as if the planet herself were conspiring to keep my two Vulcans apart, an electrical storm broke out.
No Vulcan worth his logic goes sauntering around the desert in one of those – heavy rains turn even the hard packed desert sand into dangerous quagmires. And in the foothills where Spock was, flash floods were common. Anyone who didn't take shelter risked being hit by lightening. These violent storms were the Vulcan equivalent of snow days; even Vulcans battened down during the worst of them.
Having the sense he was born with, my logical son took refuge in a cave when the skies began to darken far in advance of when they should, even before the telling winds began to rise. Knowing better than to cross his mother, he called me to let me know that he would be late. Even with that consideration I was hardly pleased.
"Aren't you risking being out too near sunset?" I asked uneasily, picturing him caught between these two evils and damning my inhospitable adopted planet. "I should come and get you."
"No," Spock said, a bit too forcefully before he collected himself. "I will be perfectly safe in the shelter I've chosen. Flying in violent wind shear conditions in a Vulcan sandstorm is dangerous even for Vulcan pilots."
"I don't like the sound of that," I said, offended. "I have a perfect safety record. I've never had an accident."
"And you will not have one now," Spock said, sounding just like his father. "Sarek would not approve your coming. And I forbid it."
"I don't care what your father thinks. And as for you, I'm still your mother. It's not for you to forbid anything to me. Tell me where you are."
"No," he said stubbornly. "I will not."
"I can always find you anyway," I warned. "I'll triangulate on your communicator." I could too, if I was not very facile at the technique.
"Not if I disable that function," he countered.
"You couldn't," I said. "You wouldn't! Spock!"
"I can and will, to prevent you from coming out in a dangerous storm."
"If it's dangerous to me, it is to you."
"I will be all right, Mother," Spock said, this time with that ultra patient tone in his voice. "Do not be over-emotional. I will be home directly after the storm passes."
"Oh… Remember, you're not in San Francisco anymore. Out here, the resident wildlife eats you."
"I have been well trained in desert lore, besides having taken Terran hand-to-hand combat for two years."
"I never heard that being a Starfleet cadet gave anyone immunity from Vulcan wildlife," I said tartly, in response to that. "Don't get too cocky just because you've got that under your belt. And for goodness sake, please be careful. Remember the lematya that I warned you about. Do try not to get eaten, drowned or electrocuted on your first day back."
"I will endeavor to oblige, Mother," Spock said, sounding perfectly calm as he closed the communication. No doubt, like any Vulcan, he was happy as a pig in mire to be trapped out on the Forge. But I took a dim view of it. Thinking to find him anyway, I brought up the computer and tried to triangulate on his signal. But Spock was too quick for me and had made good his threat. I could not trace him. Though perhaps, if Sarek were home, he'd have been able to.
Anxiety over Spock, warranted or not, fueled my frustration with all things Vulcan, the planet, the weather, my son -- and my husband, who hadn't even bothered to call.
The sky was now an ugly mud color. I was gazing at it anxiously when I saw the flash that preceded the force-screens dropping, and then Sarek's flyer appeared in the sky. I let out one slight sigh of relief. With all the local populace battening down, I wouldn't have wanted Sarek to stay holed up in Council Keep to wait out the storm – not with Spock home only for a short while. As he banked the flyer, I saw a gust of wind briefly tilt the vehicle before Sarek counterbalanced. And the storm hadn't even started yet. I knew Spock was right, that I was no match for piloting a flyer in such conditions, but that didn't ease my anxiety with Spock still gone.
Sarek berthed the flyer in the hanger, and as he approached the house, I heard him whistle to his hawk. Wol came winging down from the foothills, to land on his upraised arm. She'd grown quite a bit since her rescue, and her talons fully encircled his forearm to wrap around it. I had forgotten about Wol, but naturally Sarek would not have – though I thought it was a bit much if he came home for her and not for Spock or me. But I had grown fond of her too when she'd rehabbed with us, and didn't want any harm to come to her. While she did very well for herself in our game-rich gardens and nearby foothills, Sarek was right to call her in. She was still a young bird, probably not storm smart. And with her wing injury, she might be compromised in the high winds to come.
"I'm so glad you're home," I said, running up to him.
Only semi-tame, and not terribly used to me, Wol objected to my abrupt motion by back-winging and giving a metallic screech that, so close to his ears, caused Sarek to wince, in spite of all his Vulcan controls.
"I'm sorry," I said to Sarek, for the ringing in his sensitive ears, if not for our previous argument. And then to Wol, "And I'm sorry to you too. You know I don't mean you any harm, you prehistoric chicken."
Even the raptors on Vulcan, like so many other creatures on the planet, are semi-empathic. Wol knew very well I meant her no harm, but she was wild enough that her instincts got the better of her under stress. She let out an almost chicken-like cluck, a sound very much at odds with her six foot wingspan, her comment encompassing reproach for both our failures, and then settled back down again on Sarek's upraised arm. A blast of sand assaulted us, and we hurried inside the garden gate, where the wind was partially shielded and we could breathe a bit easier out of its choking embrace.
"There was no cause to worry," Sarek said with a trace of impatience. "If I could not have made it back before the brunt of the storm, I would have simply stayed in the city."
"Spock is out on the Forge."
"He -- what?" Sarek halted and turned so abruptly that he unbalanced Wol, who squawked and whacked his head with one broad wing in an attempt to stay in balance. He shook his head free of her feathers. "What?"
"Well there was no sign of a storm earlier this afternoon," I defended. "Not even Vulcan weather forecasters are always prescient."
"At this season of the year," Sarek said, his eyes narrowed, "it was not well advised."
"Well, this is the season he's home."
"Indeed," Sarek settled himself and then gave a Vulcan shrug. "If he is out on the Forge, he will take cover." He resumed his pace toward one of the greenhouses where he apparently intended Wol to shelter out the storm.
I followed after him, persistently. "I want you to go and get him."
Sarek paused before the greenhouse he'd chosen. "That is completely illogical."
"If there's time. There must be time. Sarek, I'm worried about him."
"There is no need." He opened the greenhouse door.
"If you came home to take care that a hawk was sheltered from the storm, you can certainly go after your son!"
Sarek closed his eyes briefly and then giving Wol a command, launched her into the greenhouse. A half dozen birds and a litka gorging on fruit within squawked or otherwise took cover. With an air of complacency, Wol settled herself on the branch of an apple tree, and began to preen the sand out of her feathers. Sarek's gaze followed her with approval, for her disinterest meant she was not hungry and had learned her hunting lessons well. Only then did he turn to me. "Where is he?"
"I…I don't know," I faltered. "He didn't say. And he …he's disabled the locator on his communicator."
"He--" His dark eyes flashed. "What folly is this?"
"He wanted to prevent me from coming after him."
Sarek shook his head in Vulcan fashion, only slightly appeased. "In that regard, alone, would I excuse it. The folly of the son would only have been surpassed by the mother, should you have attempted such a rash action."
"Don't you snap at me!" I flared. "If you'd come home for tea, like I asked you to, he might not have gone out hiking and we could have avoided this. But no, you had your confounded duty!"
"Amanda--"
I abandoned my unprofitable anger. "Oh, we don't have time to fight now. Please just go. I'm sure you can find him. You two always go to the same haunts. Just try, please?"
Sarek looked up at the sky, both to gage the approach of the storm and its severity.
"See how dark it's getting. And if he gets trapped by the storm for too long, he will still be out at sunset."
"He has had full survival training and survived his Kahs Wan," Sarek said, but in that remote voice that told her he was calculating odds.
"Not in this sort of weather. And there's that big lematya roaming around. I warned him about her, but he might just try to make it back anyway. Oh, Sarek, please!"
The threat of the lematya seemed to decide him. "Very well. I'll look for him."
"Good. Hurry, please. Hurry!"
He gave her a dark look as if about to say something, then shook his head, and went at a lope for the hanger.
To be continued
Review, review, review !