Listening for the Waves, chapter 11
Taking a tunic from the closet, Saavik folded it and carried it toward her open suitcase. Instead of putting it in the suitcase, however, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet. Nyota had said that she did not like the color scheme of this house, and the longer Saavik studied her surroundings, the more she tended to agree. It did not matter, however. In a few short hours she would be gone, and by the time she returned, everything would be different.
Well, perhaps not everything. She suspected that she would still experience this hollow sensation in her chest.
She knew without a doubt that she had done the only thing she could do, so why did it cause actual physical pain? She would never have the pleasure of Zachary's cheerful company again. She would never see Michael's gentle face or look into his kind eyes, or know his easy presence. She would never hear his beautiful voice, all-encompassing like night when it falls on the harsh Vulcan desert. She would never stroll through the Old Town without remembering these days, she would never see a baseball game without thinking of their enthusiastic shouts, she would never—
A light rap on her door caused her to jump to her feet. Hastily pretending to refold the tunic, she said, "Come."
It opened to reveal Spock, who stood tentatively in the hallway. "Hello, Saavikam. May I enter?"
"Of course."
She walked to the closet to retrieve another garment, and when she turned back, she saw that he was sitting on the side of the bed. Neither of them spoke as she folded the garment and placed it in the suitcase.
"I was in the process of preparing some tea, and I thought that you might like some."
"Thank you. That would be agreeable."
He nodded but made no move to leave. She cast a glance at him from the corner of her eye, but he continued to sit quietly, apparently watching her pack. She returned to the closet.
She gathered her shoes and carried them to the suitcase. When she began matching them, she realized that she was missing one. She returned to the closet, but there were no more shoes on the floor, so she began looking around the room.
"Are you missing something, Saavikam?"
"Yes. A shoe."
He stood, and together they searched the room. She was beginning to feel some embarrassment. She had tried her best to remain tidy during her visit, but somehow the shoe had managed to elude her.
"Here it is."
She turned to see Spock on his hands and knees, reaching under the bed to retrieve the shoe. Accepting it hastily, she watched as he brushed lint from his clothing.
"Thank you, Spock. I am sorry that you had to get dirty."
He reseated himself on the bed. "It was nothing," he said with humor in his voice. "After all, it is not the first time I have done such a thing."
She nodded, but she could not bring herself to match his tone. Humor was difficult even at the best of times, and she certainly did not feel up to the attempt now.
He moved closer to the end of the bed and patted the area beside him. "Sit, Saavikam."
"I have much to do."
"Sit down," he repeated firmly.
Since it was clearly more than just a polite request, she sat next to him and clasped her hands between her knees. She did not speak, for she knew that she was in for a lecture of some sort.
"It is interesting," he said, "the unexpected twists and turns life can take."
She looked over at him, surprised to learn that this was not a lecture after all. "What do you mean?"
"One plans one's life on the assumption that the logical path is the path to follow. I have found, though, that such an attempt is useful only for the exercise of the planning itself, for things never work out as planned."
"It sounds as if you are advocating a reactive lifestyle rather than a proactive, and that is exceedingly inefficient."
"I am advocating nothing. I am merely observing."
She scowled. "I do not understand, then."
"Take my own life, for example," he said casually. "I had planned to attend the Vulcan Science Academy and marry T'Pring. I would then either join my father in the diplomatic corps or I would find a position in research at the Vulcan Science Academy as my grandfather had done. I would live on Vulcan and raise Vulcan children. It was all to be very logical. Unfortunately, things did not work out as I had planned."
She could not help but feel somewhat wounded by that statement, and she did not bother to keep it from her voice. "You regret that you joined Starfleet, met Nyota, and found me?"
He met her eyes. "Not for a moment."
"Then I am even more confused than I was before."
"I quarreled with my father. That was unfortunate, and certainly improper for a boy of my age. My reaction was to apply to Starfleet Academy."
"But did that not then work out for the better?"
"Indeed it did. But then, T'Pring issued the challenge and our union was dissolved. That was unfortunate, for it left me without a mate. My reaction was to abandon any thought of taking a Vulcan wife."
"But did that not also work out for the better?"
"Absolutely. I met Nyota, and although we were nothing more than friends for many years, we eventually realized that we were destined to share our lives. And in the interim I found a young, abandoned girl who was nothing like the proper Vulcan children I had once envisioned myself raising."
She allowed the corner of her mouth to turn up. "And that certainly worked out for the better."
"Very much so."
"So, if I am to draw a lesson from this, it is that events that seem unfortunate or unexpected at the time may in the long term cause your life to take a turn for the better."
"Correct. You will probably not know it when it happens, however. It is only with the perspective of time that you can look back and see where those serendipitous branches lay."
She had been so caught up in their discussion that she had forgotten her own plight, but suddenly it fell onto her shoulders again like a leaden weight.
Searching his face, she said, "But is it not also true that those unexpected events do not always work out? Sometimes one must force one's life to go back to the way it was before."
"Very true, Saavikam. That is exactly what happened when Nyota told me that we were 'through,' many years ago."
"She terminated the relationship? I always assumed that it was you."
"No, although it might as well have been me."
She sighed heavily. "Now I am confused again. I wish that you would speak plainly."
He paused, and when he continued, his voice was very soft. "You see, Saavikam, I could not be honest with her. I believe that I do not need to spell it out for you, but there is much a Vulcan male cannot discuss easily. In the end I found it easier to let her go than to be honest with her."
She looked away abruptly. How had he read her so clearly?
He continued. "It is illogical to dismiss an opportunity before it has even become an opportunity, Saavikam."
Curling her hands into fists, she said, "I do not need anyone. I will be fine if I never find a mate."
"Indeed you will. I always thought that, myself. I am very grateful that I changed my mind."
She stood and walked away from the bed, her back to him so that he could not see her face. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what type of life he would have had without Nyota, and... she could not. They were so right for one another. So right, yet it had almost not happened. The chain of events that had finally brought them together was fragile, and it would have remained broken forever had he not decided to mend it with his honesty.
Her eyes still closed, she fought to keep her voice steady. "How could any man ever care for me? I am half Romulan, Spock. I am the product of a forced union. I was uncivilized for the first nine years of my life, no better than an animal, and it was a struggle to become fit to live in normal society. Even still, although I try to be Vulcan, I am subject to anger and unpredictable emotions. I am not the person everyone thinks I am, and I will have to strive all my life to be the person I want to be."
She heard soft footsteps approach. "One who does not strive, stagnates." His voice was right behind her. "Change is a natural part of evolution. I know this, perhaps more than anyone."
"But you are Vulcan, despite your blood. I am different."
"You are you, Saavikam, and that is exactly why I feel the way I do about you."
Turning at his unexpected words, she looked into his face. "Really, Spock?"
"Really, Saavikam. And if you choose the right mate, he will also accept you for who you are."
She felt her eyes grow wide. "Are you saying that I made a mistake?"
"Only you can know for certain, but yes, my analysis is that you acted hastily without considering all parts of the equation."
"Do you truly think that I should tell him the truth about my past?"
"There is a rather hackneyed old Terran adage: 'The truth will set you free.'" He clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes. I do truly think that you should tell him the truth about your past."
She bit her lip as she gazed past his shoulder, but finally she nodded with determination. "You are right, Spock! You are right. I cannot let fear prevent me from exploring all possibilities. I was concerned that Zachary would be hurt by this, but he said that he would be all right. I did not believe him. I see now, however, that he really meant it. He even encouraged me to do what he thought was best for everyone."
Spock frowned, "Ah..."
"Thank you, Spock." She started moving toward the door. "Thank you! I must go find Michael and tell him everything."
She darted through the bedroom door and ran out of the house. The flitter was gone, but she would hurry to the Old Town and catch the shuttle to the hospital.
...
Hearing the flitter return, Spock met Nyota at the door.
"Greetings, Nyota. Did you accomplish your task?"
"Yes. I found something that'll be perfect." She lowered her voice. "Have you talked to Saavik?"
"Actually, yes, I have."
"How's she doing?"
"I believe I helped her understand that there are certain risks in life worth taking. She is now on her way to see Michael."
Nyota had been smiling with delight at his statement, but the smile quickly faded from her face.
"Who the hell is Michael?"
He sighed. "I have no idea."
...
Finally spotting the sign that said "EENT Clinic," Saavik rushed through the door and stopped before the receptionist's desk.
A young Vulcan woman looked up from her computer. "May I help you?"
"I am here to see Dr. Watkins. My name is Saavik."
Calling up the schedule, the woman shook her head. "I am sorry, but you do not have an appointment."
"You are correct, but I believe that he will wish to see me." At the woman's skeptical expression, she added, "It is a personal matter."
Clearly disapproving of personal matters, the woman looked at the computer again, and Saavik clamped her lips together so she would not say something she would regret. Did the woman think that there would be an entry for 'personal matters' on Michael's schedule? Illogical. Finally, the woman pointed at a door.
"Dr. Watkins is with a patient at the moment, but if you walk down that hallway and enter the fifth door on the left, you can wait in his office until he is available. I will inform him that you are here."
Saavik hesitated, but the woman had already lost all respect for her so she decided to 'go for broke,' as Nyota would say.
Leaning close, she said, "I would prefer that you do not mention my name."
The woman's eyebrow climbed toward her hairline. "Would you prefer that I not tell him anything at all?"
Saavik ignored the sarcasm in the woman's voice. "Actually, if there is a reasonable chance that he will go to his office soon, yes, I would prefer he not know I am here."
"I see. This is a surprise." The woman talked as if she had a bad taste in her mouth, but she looked back at the calendar. "He has blocked out the next half hour, presumably for his lunch. If you have no qualms about interrupting his noon meal, you may wait unannounced."
"I am certain he will not mind."
"As you wish."
The woman returned to her work without another word, so Saavik hurried down the hallway. Her heart pounded in her side, and her knees felt increasingly weak as she counted each door. One, two, three... four... Five. She stood before a small nameplate reading 'Michael Watkins, M.D.' then slipped inside the office before the urge to turn around and leave became irresistible.
So here she was. She looked all around, amazed to see so much of Michael's personality in the room. It was not an exceedingly large space, but he had filled it—neatly, unlike the apartment—with reminders of his home on Earth. Large prints of beach scenes adorned the walls, and on the bookshelves behind the wooden desk were several rows of old medical texts intermingled with books about the ocean and the beach. There, next to Gray's Anatomy, was Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. And there, bolstered by a huge seashell, was an ancient edition of The Prince of Tides.
Moving to his desk, she picked up a large glass paperweight and looked closer at what appeared to be beautiful blue and yellow fish swimming inside. They were also made of glass, but from a distance they had looked real, as if they were swimming in brilliantly clear water.
The door opened suddenly, and an instant later she heard the paperweight land on the carpet with a dull thud. She scooped it up quickly and returned it to the desk, but her hands were so unsteady that she could not prevent a thump. She held it so it would not roll away, then finally made herself look up. She was not even sure if it was Michael at the door.
It was.
He stood very still, an expression of disbelief on his face. She could not move, either, nor could she talk. Her chest was so tight she could scarcely breathe, much less vocalize. Finally, she made herself take a step forward and speak.
"Hello, Michael."
He came into the room, and the door slid shut behind him. "Saavik, I, uh, didn't expect to see you. I talked to Zach, and he... he said that you broke it off with him, and that you didn't intend to see him... or either of us... ever again."
Taking another small step in his direction, she wound her fingers together and asked, "Did he tell you what else we discussed?"
"Yes." His voice was hoarse, so soft that a human would not have been able to hear it. "He told you that I'm falling in love with you. Is that why you broke up with him?"
She ignored his question. "What else did he tell you?"
"Nothing. He said that it wasn't up to him to tell me the rest." He swallowed. "But now you're here. What is it that he couldn't tell me?"
"I did not break up with him because of your feelings for me. I broke up because of my feelings for you. I care very much for you, Michael."
A huge smile spread across his face, but an instant later it was replaced by an expression of horror. "Oh, God. Zach..."
"...said that I should come to you and tell you how I feel."
"He was okay with this? I would never want to hurt him."
"Neither would I, but he said that..." She paused. "He said that we belong together. Do you think that he is right?"
He smiled again, and this time his smile didn't fade. He crossed the room quickly and cupped her face in his hands.
"Yes," he said. "Oh, yes. I do."
As she gazed up at him, she thought that her heart would surely leap out of her side. His face was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen, and she found it difficult to accept that the warmth, joy, and affection radiating from him were for her, only her.
Of course, he did not understand what she truly was.
Perhaps she could remain silent about her past. He thought that she was a polished Vulcan woman, an officer in Starfleet and a person of background. As she looked up at his trusting face, however, she knew that she could no longer keep this to herself. She brushed her hand briefly against his, then pulled away.
"Michael, before you make up your mind about me, there is something you must know."
A shadow crossed his features, and although it pained her to know that she had caused it, she continued.
"I am not Vulcan, as I have led you to believe. I am half Romulan."
He blinked. "That's it? That's your big secret?"
Surprised by his reaction, she hesitated. "That is part of it."
His shoulders sagged in relief. Grinning, he said, "Saavik, I don't care if you're half mermaid. All that matters to me is that you are you."
"Truly?" She looked up at him, afraid to accept that he meant it. Could it be a cruel trick? Was he teasing her, as the children used to tease her in school? "I was alone on a hostile planet, Michael, and I lived the first nine years of my life like an animal."
"That doesn't change anything." He moved close and gripped her shoulders. "I don't take this lightly, Saavik. I know that you harbor a lot of pain, and I can tell that there's much more to the story than this. But we have all the time in the universe, and we'll talk about every detail. I promise."
"Michael." She put her hand on his cheek. "We do not have all the time in the universe. I am already close to missing my flight, and I must leave you now."
His grin widened. "I'm not talking about today or tomorrow, Saavik. I'm talking about next month and next year, and maybe even the year after that. And who knows? Maybe forever."
At that, he swept her into his arms, and as she closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss, she realized that this was exactly how she had imagined it. His arms, his body, his breath against her cheek—it was all exactly right. He knew who she was, and while there was still much to tell him, the worst was behind her.
Spock's old adage was correct. She had never felt so free in her life.
End story
The next story in the series is Bright Shining as the Sun.