The Waking Man, Chapter Eight
Studying the padd in his hand, Spock left his office and approached T'Miren's desk.
"T'Miren, this is the new trade agreement between the Centaurans and the Tellarites. Could you please contact Mr. Gaav of the Tellar Trade Commission and ask him if export restrictions have recently been eased? The two passages I highlighted directly contradict their current agreement with Vulcan. If something has changed, I would like to arrange a meeting to discuss modifying our trade agreement to reflect the new conditions."
"Who should attend the meeting?"
"You and I will attend, and I think it would be appropriate if Tevek also attended, since he brokered the current agreement. You may leave it up to Mr. Gaav's discretion as to who should represent Tellar. Do not allow him to procrastinate, for this is something we must settle soon."
"I will do that." She took the padd from him. "It is almost 1800 hours East American time on Earth."
He allowed a hint of annoyance to show in his expression, and she quickly found something to occupy her attention on her desk. He returned to his office.
He had told her nothing about T'Val, and only sporadically did the clock in Atlanta reach 1800 hours while he was at work, but somehow T'Miren had discerned that over the last two months he had developed a habit of calling Earth at the same time every alternating Earth day. It was a convenient time for T'Val, since she would have generally arrived home from work but not yet gone out for the evening, so he was willing to arrange it around his own schedule. At any rate, she never called him, so he knew that this was his only choice if he wished to talk to her with any regularity.
He deliberately waited until five minutes after 1800 hours to turn to his computer.
"Computer. Contact T'Val."
The computer found her number in its memory bank and initiated the call. Moments later, the screen brightened to show her face. She was wearing her baseball cap, so he assumed that she was on her way to Dr. McCoy's house.
"Hello, Spock," she said.
"Greetings, T'Val. I see that you are ready to do some yard work."
"Actually, Leonard expressed a desire to go to a baseball game, so soon I will be leaving to pick him up."
"I see. I had assumed that your cap was merely functional, and not symbolic."
"It is primarily functional. Leonard insisted on purchasing it for me the last time we went to a game. I have found that it is an effective way to keep the sun off my nose." She pushed the bill of the cap up. "How is work? The last time we talked, you mentioned the possibility of a peace conference. Are your plans any further along?"
"Yes. I have commitment from eight Federation member worlds, and several others have unofficially told me that they will send representatives. I hesitate to call it a peace conference, however, for there is no conflict to settle. It is more a show of solidarity, so perhaps the term 'summit' would be more appropriate."
"I see. It sounds like it could be quite interesting, regardless."
He shrugged lightly. "I am not certain that I would choose the word 'interesting' to describe it, but it will be beneficial to renew old contacts and make new ones. How is your seizure patient?"
"She is doing better. We have pinpointed the area of her brain that is causing the seizures, and I am consulting with the surgeon tomorrow. We hope that we can correct the problem with some minor surgery."
"What of the sibling? You had mentioned concern over the genetic factor."
"We have found no abnormalities in his brain, which is a great relief to all involved. As I told you, the parents lost their first child to this malady six months ago, and I do not know how they could bear the loss of another."
"It is an unfortunate situation."
"Yes, it is, but everyone is feeling quite optimistic at the moment."
"That is good." He paused, then casually said, "The season of K'Rukh is nearly upon us, and the schedule of events should be available soon. It would be a good time for you to visit Vulcan."
She shook her head. "We have discussed this before. You know my answer."
"You are being illogical, T'Val. There is no one here who can hurt you anymore. Your parents live on the other side of the planet, and you do not need to face them if you do not want to."
"You are being illogical, for you keep making a request that you know I cannot grant. I will never set foot on Vulcan again."
"If we are to debate logic, I would submit that such inflexibility is self-defeating."
"And I would say that discussing this yet again is futile."
Her voice had developed an edge, so he decided to concede this round. "Very well. I will consider the matter closed, but only for the moment, for I have learned that persistence is a virtue."
"I would hardly call it persistence." Although her tone was still sharp, her expression did not match it. "I believe that Leonard would call it stubborn bullheadedness."
"That would probably be the most polite version of what he would say. Enjoy your baseball game. I will talk to you in two days."
"Until then."
The screen grew dark, but before he could return his attention to his work, the computer signaled an incoming call.
"Computer. Accept call." This time, he saw his father's face. "Greetings, Father.
"Greetings, Spock. I am planning to contact Elas today about a matter unrelated to the summit meeting, but I thought it best if I kept abreast of the latest developments in case the topic comes up. Has the Elasian delegate responded to the invitation yet?"
Spock frowned. "He said that he will attend only if he is allowed to participate in organizing the security for the event, so I forwarded the latest plan to him. I told you this yesterday."
"Ah, yes. Of course you did. Is he satisfied?"
"He has not yet replied. Father, how did your appointment with the healer go this morning?"
"It went well. You should contact the Elasians rather than wait for them to contact you. They are certain to want changes."
"I am certain they will, too, but I must allow them time to review the document. Pressuring them will benefit no one. What sort of examination did the healer do?"
"It was quite routine, just a check-up. Perhaps you are right about the Elasians, but I am concerned that they will deliberately wait until the last moment and use this as an excuse not to attend."
"I will not allow that to happen. Did the healer tell you anything new? Did he adjust your medication?"
"That is enough!" Sarek exclaimed. "I am tired of your incessant questions."
Spock tried not to react to his father's sudden anger, but he knew that he was not entirely successful. "I merely ask out of concern for you," he said.
"If you are so concerned for me, you will let the matter drop! I do not answer to you."
"Of course you do not, but—"
"I will not discuss this anymore. Sarek out."
The screen grew dark, and Spock exhaled slowly. He took a moment to compose himself, then put in a call to the healer. If Sarek would not give him any information, he would speak with someone who would.
...
Spock sat in his flitter and looked up at the big house on the side of the mountain. This had seemed like a good idea after he spoke with the healer, but now he was not so certain. He had been sitting here long enough that Perrin might have already seen him, however, so there was nothing to do but go forward with his plan.
He left the flitter and started up the long front walk. This was his family's ancestral home, but it was so large and uncomfortable that no one had lived in it for generations. Perrin had decided that it suited her station in society, though, so she and Sarek had attempted to turn it into a home, albeit a very inhospitable and unwelcoming home. He certainly felt like a stranger here, or even an intruder. His presence would not be welcome. Perhaps she would turn him away at the door and spare him what was certain to be an uncomfortable conversation.
He signaled his presence at the door. After several minutes, the door opened, and she regarded him a long moment before saying coolly, "Spock."
He answered her in the same tone. "Perrin."
"Sarek is not here."
"I am aware of that."
She nodded and stepped back, so he took that as permission to enter. She did not invite him further into the home.
"I wish to discuss Sarek's health," he said.
"Go ahead."
"I spoke with his healer earlier today. He told me that he wanted to adjust Sarek's medicine, but Sarek refused."
"Does Sarek know that you talked to his healer?"
"No," Spock admitted.
"He will not be pleased."
"That is why I came when I knew he would not be home. He is forgetful and easily agitated, and he will not allow me to discuss the topic of his medical care. I am here to enlist your help."
She arched one eyebrow. "My help? Are you so desperate that you'd come to me?"
He knew that her words were intended as sarcasm, but all he could do was agree. "Yes. I am that desperate."
She tilted her head assessingly. "What would you think if I told you that Sarek and I discussed this, and we agreed that he should not take his medication anymore at all?"
He frowned, so she continued.
"It interferes with his ability to think clearly. He is nothing without his intellect. Those are his very words. And I agree with his decision."
"What use is his intellect if he suffers from memory loss? Or if he cannot keep his emotions in check? Perrin, this is yet another manifestation of his illness, and you cannot reinforce his faulty thought processes."
"How dare you come in here and tell me what I can and can't do if you don't have all the facts! There is more than one way to deal with this illness. There are meditative techniques, behavior modifications, and other alternative approaches."
Already certain of the answer, he asked, "Are they working?"
She stiffened. "It takes time."
"Time is a luxury he may not have." He opened the door. "Despite what you think, I did not come here to antagonize you. If you have my father's best interests at heart, you must take another look at your options. Do not risk his life because of a grudge you hold against me."
Taking a step toward him, she said, "You give yourself too much credit. What you want or don't want in this situation is of no matter to me. You're not as important as you think you are."
"Then prove it. Make the best choice for Sarek, even if it is what I would choose myself."
She put her hand on the door, and he was forced to take a step back so she would not slam it in his face. "I believe that I have already proven it. Goodbye."
The massive old door closed with a heavy thud, and he was alone once again. He took a deep breath and returned to his flitter.
...
That night, Spock filled a kettle with water and put it on to boil. It would have been easier to dispense the hot water directly from the tap, but Nyota had always insisted that the tea tasted better when one started with cold water. He turned the kettle slightly to see the dent from the time she had dropped it in their kitchen in San Francisco. She had become angry over the dent, but she would never allow him to buy her a new one.
He gazed out the window into the night while he waited. Why did Perrin and Sarek refuse to listen to reason? He was reminded of Steven when he was two years old, who would think that because he had covered his own eyes, you could not see him. It seemed they had decided that if they pretended Sarek was not ill, the illness would go away. Illogical.
The kettle whistled, so he poured the water into his cup and sat at the table while it brewed. The house was very quiet. He considered turning on the tri-vee just to hear the sound of another voice, but instead he stared at the cup until the tea was ready. He rose, discarded the tea leaves, and sat down at the table again while he waited for the tea to cool.
The steam spiraled up from the cup, and he watched it rise until it turned into tiny wisps that soon vanished entirely. He idly calculated the time in Atlanta. Six point eight hours had passed since his call this afternoon, so it would be past midnight there now. T'Val was no doubt already in bed, asleep.
Trying the tea, he found that it had cooled enough to drink, so he sipped while replaying his conversation with Sarek earlier. Sarek had become impatient, expressing the desire that Spock leave him alone. Spock remembered being short with his parents when he was thirteen years old and suffering from a persistent ache in his knees, an ache that prevented him from participating fully in physical activities and often kept him awake at night. He had resented their concern, and he had done everything in his power to avoid going to the healer. As it had turned out, it was merely the pain of stretched ligaments, stressed because his bones were growing so quickly the ligaments could not keep up. Regardless, he had felt too mature to be subjected to such parental concerns. Now he felt like the parent, trying to coax a child into doing what the doctor thought was best. It was inevitable that the roles would be reversed, but he had never expected the day to actually be upon him.
He finished the tea, so he placed the cup in the cleaner and wandered into the den. His book rested on the table beside the sofa, and although he paused to look at it, he eventually continued down the back hallway to Saavik's room. The bed was perfectly made, just awaiting a guest, but Saavik had become so involved with her great-grandchildren that she did not come to visit very often anymore.
His bedroom was to the left, but it was too early to retire, and he did not want to meditate. The room was uninviting, at any rate. He had experienced great difficulty sleeping in that bed after Nyota had died, but somewhere along the way the ache over the empty pillow beside him had evolved into comfort from the memory of their many good years together. Now, though, he remembered those long, lonely nights. He turned away and headed toward his study.
He sat at his desk and stared at the computer. It was now well into the wee hours of the morning in Atlanta, much too late to disturb T'Val. The silence in his home was overwhelming, however, so he addressed the computer before he could change his mind.
"Computer. Contact T'Val."
As his office computer had done earlier today, this computer accessed her number and put the call through to Earth. The computer hummed for so long that he almost canceled the call without leaving a message, but finally the screen brightened to show T'Val. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were heavy.
"Spock!" she said. "Is something wrong?"
He wrinkled his brow apologetically and replied, "Forgive me for waking you. I simply felt the need to talk to you."
"What is it? What has happened?"
His elbow on the arm of his chair, he briefly closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his fingertips. "It is Sarek. He is getting worse, and I do not know how to deal with it."
"Oh, Spock. I am sorry. Is the medication not working?"
"His healer believes that an adjustment is all that is required, but Sarek has discontinued his medication entirely. I even went to Perrin today, but she supports his decision. It seems that I am the only person who sees reason in this situation, and I am at wit's end."
"Why is he resisting the doctor's advice?"
"He claims that it interferes with his thought processes. Evidently he and Perrin have done some research of their own, and they have chosen to try alternative approaches."
"Such as?"
"Meditative techniques and behavior modification, which are clearly not working."
She inhaled deeply. "Spock, sometimes the best thing we can do for a patient like this is to back off. Allow him to make his own choices."
"What if his choices are wrong? Am I to stand by while he continues to deteriorate?"
"You have to understand that things are happening to him that are outside his control. He has suppressed the emotion of fright his entire life, yet just when he most needs his emotional control, it is unreliable. If he can take charge of his life, even in this small way, perhaps it will help. The best thing you can do for him is support him, reassure him that he can still make good decisions, and hope that something works."
"That sounds so bleak."
"It is." She searched his eyes. "It is a bleak illness. We had no guarantee that the medication would help. Sometimes all we have to go on is hope, and hope can be bolstered from the most unexpected sources. If he and Perrin truly believe that there is a chance this will work, the hope in their hearts will be stronger medicine than any meditative technique or behavior modification. You must allow him to try."
He was quiet for a long moment before finally dropping his eyes and nodding. "I understand. Thank you for the words of encouragement, T'Val."
"I wish I could do more."
"You have done enough just by being there. I must allow you to return to your bed. I will talk to you soon."
"Call again at any time if you wish to talk."
"I will. Good night."
The screen grew dark. He sat at his desk and studied the small glass paperweight next to his stylus and padd. Nyota's grandmother had given her that paperweight, and it had been here since the day they moved into the house. He needed to take it to Earth the next time he went, so he could give it to Saavik. She would appreciate having something that had meant so much to Nyota.
Finally, he rose and headed for his bedroom.
End chapter eight
