November 2228

"Do you know when he is due to return?"

Amanda's voice hesitated at the back of her throat as she watched the small child disappear behind the woman's legs again. The woman reached for his hand and pulled him alongside her, causing a flicker of anger in Amanda. The boy was terrified and this Vulcan woman wasn't helping his situation.

"Well?

"No," Amanda explained. "He estimated he would be back in a week."

"I see."

"So were you going to tell me what this was about?"

"It is a delicate family matter."

"Whose family?"

"The S'chn T'gai family."

"You are aware I am Ambassador Sarek's wife?"

"Yes, I had been informed he had taken a new mate."

So she might be married to Sarek, but apparently that didn't qualify her as a proper member of his family. It took every scrap of limited patience available not to fly off the handle, but she managed to take a deep breath and say, "This must be Sybok."

"Yes."

"And you already know that I'm Amanda Grayson, wife of Ambassador Sarek, but I never did get your name."

"I am Sreil."

"And what brings you to my home at this unusual hour, Sreil?"

"I am a caseworker with the Social Welfare Ministry. The child's mother has taken ill."

"Ill?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss her situation with you."

"And Sybok's situation?"

"Law requires me to place him in the temporary care of his father."

"Well, his father isn't home."

"No," Sreil agreed.

Amanda could feel her patience slipping. She was already sick and tired, literally, and now this. How could a woman from the most logical species in the quadrant prefer to go through this ridiculous interrogation instead of just putting it all out on the table? She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed and waited for the woman to explain further. After a brief but painful game of staring, Amanda won.

"As you are the child's stepmother, I could place Sybok in your care, if you are willing and deemed capable."

She felt a strange pull in her belly and an acute terror that tears would spring out of nowhere. Crying right now would be about the worst thing that could happen.

"He is more than welcome to stay here as long as he needs to," she replied.

She glanced at Sybok again, watching his heavy-lidded, black eyes dart around the interior of the house. When they came to rest on Amanda, he quickly looked away. Poor thing.

Sreil's posture remained stiff, giving Amanda the distinct impression she hadn't been expecting her to allow Sybok to stay and she didn't like the idea of leaving an impressionable, Vulcan toddler in the care of a human woman. Amanda struggled to take the higher road.

"Would you like to come inside?"

Sreil bobbed her head and stepped over the threshold, pulling Sybok along with her. He had a small, black bag on his back and a terrified look on his face. Amanda tried giving him the most reassuring look she could manage without making Sreil think she was too emotional to properly look after him.

"Are you prepared to accommodate him? Provide him with sleeping quarters, nutritious food, and clean clothing?"

Her exacting eyes rested on the dirt on Amanda's pants.

"I was in the middle of tending my garden when you arrived unexpectedly," she explained, taking care to keep her voice level and smooth.

"I see."

"Would you mind if I examined the property for its suitability?"

"Not at all."

The next hour became a humiliating tour of Amanda's home in which every shortcoming was scrutinized, from a stray pet hair on furniture to a thin layer of dust on an environmental vent. Sreil disliked the notion of indoor pets but acknowledged that many Vulcan families kept sehlats. She was far more interested in Euclid, having never encountered a Terran cat.

After much polite arguing and deliberation and a brief examination of Amanda's skills with Vuhlkansu, Sreil consented to allow Sybok to stay. Sybok seemed conflicted, because he didn't seem to like the fierce Vulcan woman, but he also didn't look eager to remain with a strange-looking alien either.

When Sreil was occupied notifying her superiors in Gol of the situation, Amanda dropped down on one knee. The nausea rolled over her like a wave, but she pushed it back.

"Tonk'peh, Sybok," she said in Vuhlkansu. "Kup Amanda."

"Tonk'peh," he murmured, finally making eye contact with her.

A simple greeting in a language he understood worked wonders. Apparently people weren't so different after all, even after accounting for differences in species and age.

She knew most Vulcan children didn't learn Federation Standard English until they attended primary school, and it must have been very confusing for him to be carted all over a strange house while two women prattled on in a strange language.

"I shall come collect him when his mother is well enough," Sreil said, shutting down her PADD.

"Do you know when that will be?" Amanda asked, rising to her feet.

"I do not."

"Well then," Amanda said, venturing toward the front door. "I have your contact information if anything happens."

"I would encourage you to refrain from any excessive, emotional outbursts in his presence," Sreil remarked as she breezed through the door. "These are very critical years for his development."

In a display of grace she didn't imagine possible in her current physical state, Amanda nodded, raised her hand in the ta'al, and replied, "Veling, dif-tor heh smusma."

Sreil's lips pursed gently, but she also nodded, returned the ta'al, and said, "Sochya eh dif."

And that was that.

She heard a soft squeal from behind that turned into giggles. I-Chaya was licking Sybok's face, and Sybok was clearly delighted by the concept of having another creature at his eye level. Despite her recent promise to abstain from "emotional outbursts," she joined Sybok in laughing.

The scene suddenly produced two powerful, opposing emotions. It was hard not to experience joy at the sight of her sehlat licking the face of a giggling toddler, but it was also hard to ignore the incredible sadness and emptiness she felt. Rather than cancel one another out, the two contradictory feelings worked in tandem to overwhelm her. It took everything she had to choke the tears down.

"Are you hungry, Sybok?" she asked in Vuhlkansu.

"Ah," he replied. Yes.

She ushered him into the kitchen and began to browse the pantry and refrigeration unit. She poured herself a tall glass of water and drank it in several long gulps, which made her stomach bubble a bit. Still, the water was refreshing after spending so much time outside in her current condition.

She put herself to work slicing fruit and cooking a bowl of heavy brown noodles. She tried asking Sybok about himself – the things he liked, where he lived, if he had any pets – but he spoke little, answering her questions with the fewest words possible. He didn't seem shy or timid; she suspected he was probably confused and missing his mother.

She wondered if Sreil had explained what happened to his T'Rea. Sarek had made it clear that Vulcans didn't see the logic in shielding children from the truth, but Vulcans also didn't seem to have much regard for very young children either. In this culture, discipline was instilled immediately, children did as they were told, and they were not entitled to explanations.

As she sat down to dinner with her small guest, she couldn't help but stare at him. She'd secured a small box from the garage for him to sit on and comfortably reach the table, and though his hands were tiny, they were proficient enough to use adult utensils with ease.

Sybok was only about two and a half years old, but on the outside, he looked like a miniature Vulcan adult, haircut and all. Sreil had explained he was toilet trained and mostly capable of dressing and feeding himself, but he still required moderate assistance with bathing and hygiene. It still impressed her that a toddler could be so independent. Vulcans expected a lot from their children, and Sybok was the product of those expectations.

While they sat in silence, she finally allowed herself to think about what Sarek would have to say about all of this. Truthfully, she didn't know.

She knew the Vulcan sales pitch – hatred was illogical. But she also knew her husband, and though he would never admit it, she knew just how deeply the resentment for his former mate ran. Amanda had her own bitterness toward T'Rea, but she couldn't bring herself to extend her negative feelings to the little boy sitting next to her, hungrily crunching on gespar.

Sybok wasn't Sarek's biological son. Amanda had only met her husband's previous wife on one occasion, but she was a hard person to forget – T'Rea was beautiful in the most intimidating way imaginable. Sybok looked quite a bit like his mother with his thin features and sharp eyes, but he looked nothing at all like Sarek. Both Sarek and T'Rea had rich, olive-colored skin, but Sybok was fair-skinned enough to look like he was more closely related to Amanda than Sarek.

Still, as far as the law was concerned, Sybok was Sarek's legal son, thanks to a system that seemed horribly archaic and backwards to Amanda.

Like many Vulcan children, Sarek and T'Rea had been bonded at age seven and married much later. T'Rea had an affair and became pregnant, and Sarek chose to divorce her, since Vulcan law prohibited annulling a marriage that had produced children, regardless of the paternity of the child.

Sarek's act had been considered somewhat shocking to "polite" Vulcan society and T'Rea's politically powerful family, and that was how he'd been reappointed ambassador to Earth. The ambassadorship to the Federation's central planet was generally considered an important honor, but based on Sarek's previous experience, it was something of a demotion. Of course, if none of this had ever happened, she and Sarek would never have met, so she tried see both sides of it.

If that had been the end of the story, she would have no reason to dislike T'Rea: Sarek had divorced her before she ever knew him. Unfortunately, T'Rea had shown up the night before they were supposed to get married to ask Sarek to remarry her as a means of legally adopting her son.

It had taken Amanda a long time to wrap her mind around just how ridiculous and antiquated Vulcan society was on issues of marriage and children, but under Vulcan law, when Sarek had divorced T'Rea while she was pregnant, he left her child without a legal father, but he had done so presuming T'Rea would choose to marry the child's biological father.

Unfortunately, her lover had rejected her and her family had disowned her, which put Sybok in a precarious position. As an illegitimate child, Sybok wouldn't have lost any formal rights or endure legal penalties for his parents' choices, but the law wasn't always synonymous with culture. T'Rea's family had agreed to acknowledge her once again if she could patch up the messy affair, but the only way to do that was to remarry her former husband.

Sarek had still refused, until T'Rea reminded him of just how well connected her family was, and Amanda, not wanting to see him throw away his career, had called off their wedding. The whole thing had been a disaster, but in the end, Amanda and Sarek had split up for a time and Sarek remarried T'Rea, only to have the marriage immediately annulled, thus becoming Sybok's legal father. T'Rea moved to a monastery with her newborn son and was thus no longer a public disgrace to her family, but it had taken nearly a year for Sarek and Amanda to put their relationship back together.

From a broad perspective, Sybok's existence was the source of a lot of misery and heartache, but Amanda just couldn't see him that way. He hadn't asked to be born, and he especially hadn't asked to be born into a society that claimed to promote social freedom but still held so many impractical prejudices.

It did make Amanda wonder why the woman from social services hadn't tried to place him with a more "appropriate" Vulcan caretaker, such as his grandparents or any aunts or uncles he might have. Maybe they still didn't want him, despite everything that had happened, and that theory cut deeply into her heart.

"More?" Sybok asked, sitting up straight.

"Of course," Amanda replied, pushing some fruit from her own bowl into his.

"Thank you," he murmured.

She felt full to bursting with a wide array of emotions. He was such a sweet, polite little boy, and he made her realize just how much she wanted one of her own.

After dinner she showed him how to use the sonic shower and waited patiently outside the door, sorting through the small black bag he'd brought with him and noting he only had one set of gray pajamas. She helped him dress, and when they were done, she showed him to the guest bedroom.

He had to vault to make it onto the tall bed, but he seemed so persistent in his independence that helping him would seem wrong somehow. She wanted to tuck him in and tell him everything would be ok, but she sensed that would be more for her benefit than his.

"Do you need anything else, Sybok?"

He pulled the covers over his chest and looked at her, and for the first time, she saw a sad haze in his expression. His quiet, high-pitched voice asked, "Where is mother?"

Amanda wished she knew. "Your mother is sick and had to go away for a little while."

"Sick?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"In a hospital."

"Hospital?"

"A hospital is a place where sick people go to get better."

It was the longest conversation they'd had since he'd arrived and Amanda was eager to keep it going, but Sybok seemed to be thinking hard. She wasn't an expert on Vulcan child development and had no idea how much Sybok could really understand about the situation.

"Can see her?"

"You want to see your mother?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure where she is."

"Hospital."

"There are many hospitals," she explained softly.

She wondered if it would be possible to take him to visit T'Rea, but she didn't want to put the idea in his head if she couldn't make it happen. She wondered if T'Rea even knew where her Sybok was, but Sreil had refused to tell her anything. Amanda didn't even know what had happened – the woman could be in a coma for all she knew.

"Want see her."

"I know, Sybok. You will, soon."

"Soon?"

She puzzled a moment over how to explain an abstract, fluid concept like "soon" to a toddler. She took a few steps forward and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know when you'll get to see your mother again, but you will. You're going to stay with me for now. Is that good?"

Sybok scanned her face but didn't say anything.

"I will see you in the morning, Sybok."

She shut out the lights as she left the room and slumped against the wall of the hallway. The weight of the past hours finally crashed down, forcing her to slide to the floor in numb silence. She heard a muffled sound through the wall and it only took her a few moments to realize it was the sound of Sybok crying.

His distress caused something to break inside her. Tears started streaming down her face, and the harder she tried to contain them, the harder they fell.

"Screw logic and setting a good, Vulcan example," she whispered to herself.

She took a few deep breaths and went back into the guest bedroom. She could see him in the light from the hallway, curled up and facing the opposite wall.

"Sybok?"

He didn't acknowledge her, so she sat beside him and rubbed his back. His sobs continued as he rolled over and instinctively stretched out his arms, searching for any kind of comfort in the dimly lit room. She pulled him into a tight embrace and they cried together that way – a child who missed his mother, and a mother who missed her child – until Sybok fell asleep an hour later.

That night was the beginning of a steep learning curve for Amanda. Though Sybok tended to behave like he was two and a half going on fifty, he was still sometimes given to tantrums and irrational demands. The next morning at breakfast, he'd refused to eat the plomeek broth she served him and eventually hurled his spoon on the floor.

Secretly, this made her like him just that much more, because it proved that Vulcans weren't born swaddled with thick layers of logic. Underneath his age-defying intelligence, manners, and independence was still a young child who got fussy when he missed his nap or screamed at the top of his lungs when he was done dealing with life for the day.

It showed Amanda that he was growing comfortable enough with her to reveal his true personality, and as it turned out, Sybok was a regular toddler – sometimes funny, sometimes sweet, sometimes bratty, but always himself. It was nice having someone in the house to talk to who could actually participate in the conversation, even if his speech was rudimentary and occasionally muddled.

He was always underfoot, helping her in the garden or watching her prepare meals. It was weird to admit she could love a little boy she had only known for a short time, and after just three days, she was dreading the idea of having to give him back.

She'd worked tirelessly to locate T'Rea and see if it would be possible to arrange a visit for Sybok to see her, though Vulcan's strict privacy laws made it rather difficult. She might have asked Sarek for help, but she hadn't been able to reach him, a fact that made her half annoyed, half glad.

After four days of trying, she finally learned from an experienced clerk at the Social Welfare Ministry that T'Rea was in a hospital in Gol. It took several more communication attempts with the hospital and figuring out how to phrase her request, but was finally informed that T'Rea was allowing visitors.

She packed Sybok up early the next morning, took a cab to the nearest port, and together they flew more than four thousand kilometers to Gol on a passenger transport. She got curious looks the whole trip, and though it was irritating, she understood. She'd probably have the same reaction if she saw an adult Vulcan traveling with a human toddler on Earth.

When they reached the hospital, she started to doubt her plan. What if T'Rea was too sick to meet with them, or worse, what if she was angry Amanda had been tasked to watch her son?

She took a deep breath and escorted Sybok into the lobby. While she waited in line, her PADD began to chirp, and when she pulled it from her bag, she grimaced.

Now her husband decided to return her calls.

Her finger wavered over the "accept" button, but she decided to get it over with and clicked on the audio signal.

"Hello Sarek."

"Amanda," he replied. "Where are you?"

She looked around the crowded lobby. The Vulcans weren't a very rowdy bunch, but there was still polite conversation in the background that he could probably hear.

"The hospital," she replied, hoping he wouldn't ask too many more questions.

She went to the hospital every week for her fertility treatments and had just had a miscarriage, so surely he wouldn't think it was that strange. She wasn't eager for Sarek to know she was going to see his ex-wife. She would tell him eventually, but for now, she preferred to keep the peace.

"Are you well?"

"Yes," she replied, glad for an easy question that wouldn't require her to lie.

"I received a call from the Social Welfare Ministry four days ago regarding my former mate and her child," he began.

She bit her bottom lip and winced. "Oh?"

"They wished to place the child in my temporary custody."

"Hmmmmm?"

"Have they contacted you?"

"Yes."

"Has the matter been resolved?"

She glanced down at Sybok and replied, "Yes."

"What did-"

"Listen, I have to go: it's my turn at the desk. Can I contact you later tonight?"

"I regret to say I shall be occupied this evening."

"Oh, that's a shame. Anyway, good luck and I'll see you when you get home."

She clicked the PADD off and shoved it back in her bag. She cringed at the thought of keeping this from her husband, but she had enough on her mind at the moment.

Twenty minutes later they were escorted through a maze of hallways and turbolifts before arriving at a door at the end of a corridor on the sixth floor. The orderly entered the room to announce their arrival and Amanda started to wonder what it felt like to have a heart attack.

All the excitement of seeing Sybok happy collided with her own jealousy, anger, and anxiety, and when the orderly emerged and waved them inside, she let Sybok go first.

"Ko-mekh?"

"Sybok," replied a feeble voice.

She heard the slapping of tiny shoes on the hard floor as he ran toward his mother. Amanda thanked the orderly and slipped into the room, only to be shocked by what she saw.

She was resting in an inclined biobed and Sybok was sitting next to her. T'Rea had once been an imposing woman with piercing eyes and an elegant, angular face, but now she was a figure carved from dry skin stretched over bone. Amanda realized she probably didn't look so great either after the months of fertility treatments, but still, she was sorry to see T'Rea had wasted away.

"Miss Grayson," T'Rea murmured.

"T'Rea," she replied.

"Thank you for bringing my son."

"Oh, well, he was asking for you and the social worker wouldn't tell me anything – not that it was my business to know – but Sybok was… well, I'm sure he's glad to see you."

"Amanda," Sybok said, pointing to her but looking at his mother.

"He seems to have been well cared for, and I am appreciative for that also."

"Yes, well, I can give you two some time alone, if you'd like."

"I would like to speak with you first, if I may."

"Sure," Amanda said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight onto her other foot.

"Perhaps you would like to sit," she said, gesturing to the chair in the corner.

She took a seat, noticing the popping of her knees and the odd pattern of the tile on the floor.

"I wish to apologize for interfering with your marriage to my former mate."

She was stunned. Of all the things she expected to come out of the woman's mouth, an apology was toward the bottom.

"I- it- well, it's water under the bridge."

"An odd expression."

"It's in the past and it would be pointless to dwell on it now," Amanda explained.

"Ah, I see."

"It's been wonderful having Sybok," Amanda said, shifting the subject. "He's such a bright little boy."

"He is my child," T'Rea said simply. "He is like an extension of myself, and as such, he is very dear to me. There is very little I would not do for him."

Amanda swallowed and nodded.

"I wish to explain that my interference in your marriage was only done out for my concern for my son. I had no intention-"

"I understand," Amanda interrupted, hating the moisture that began pricking the corners of her eyes. "I do. You don't need to explain."

She recalled thinking it would have been the worst thing imaginable to cry in front of Sreil, but she had been wrong. It would have been much worse to cry in front of Sarek's ex-wife.

T'Rea canted her head into a gentle nod. "I am grateful and a little surprised you and Ambassador Sarek have agreed to care for him while I am incapacitated."

"I'll be perfectly honest; Sarek is away on Coridan and doesn't know."

"I see," T'Rea mused. "I have a delicate matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Oh?"

"I am sure you know the details of what transpired between the ambassador and myself."

"Yes."

"Sarek agreed to acknowledge Sybok as his son, but I assured him he would never have to raise or provide for him. I fear I may be on the verge of violating that agreement."

Amanda felt her pulse quicken and the push of a gentle headache beginning to form.

"I have been ill for several months, and the healers have diagnosed my condition as terminal."

"I'm very sorry," Amanda said, meaning every word. "I really am."

"It would be illogical to apologize for a disease which you did not cause," T'Rea argued.

"True, but Vulcan or not, that can't have been easy news to receive."

"My only concern is for my son and what will happen to him upon my death. Legally, Sarek is his father and custody would fall to him, and you, by extension."

She balled her sweaty palms into fists and dared herself to look at the woman. Sybok had fallen asleep propped up next to her, and the sight of his twitching, dreaming face made her smile momentarily.

"I fear that Sarek will refuse, and if he does, I am certain no one in my family will want to assume responsibility for Sybok."

"Why?" Amanda blurted.

Her cheeks grew hot and she immediately regretted asking such a personal question, but T'Rea seemed beyond social offense.

"My actions reflected poorly upon my family."

"But Sybok is just a child," she seethed. "He's their own flesh and blood."

T'Rea shot her a look of careful consideration. "Do you believe Ambassador Sarek would be willing to accept him?"

"I don't care if he's willing," Amanda explained, probably more passionately than she intended. "I'm willing. No matter what, Sybok will always have a place in our home if he needs it."

T'Rea's face seemed far away for several seconds, and she looked down at her son curled up next to her. "I am immeasurably grateful to you."

"Would it be inappropriate to ask how much time you think you have left?"

"The healers estimate this new course of treatment may prolong my life another five years, though there has been a significant margin of error in the most recent clinical studies."

Amanda was fascinated by the cold, neutral way she was able to discuss her impending death.

"I have another question," Amanda announced. "If Sarek and I had refused, what would have happened to Sybok? I'm not very familiar with Vulcan social services."

"I imagine he would be placed with a suitable family."

"A Vulcan family."

"Yes."

"Doesn't it bother you that I'm human?"

"I suppose it is a little unorthodox, but Sarek is Sybok's legal father and would be able to provide numerous opportunities for him," she began. "But more importantly, you have proven yourself to be nothing like any human I have ever encountered."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yes, because you are also unlike any Vulcan I have ever encountered. In any case, I did not expect you to care for Sybok as if he were your own son, but you have demonstrated that you do. Many humans might have chosen to be spiteful, and most Vulcans would have bowed to social custom. I require someone to raise my son when I am gone, and I can think of no one better than you."

Silent tears finally splashed down her cheeks and she bit her lip in annoyance. She waved at her face and mumbled, "Clearly I'm an emotional person. Are you really sure you want me raising your Vulcan son?"

T'Rea looked out the window, but Amanda got the sense she was looking far beyond what the eye could see, as if examining the whole of her existence.

"Yes," she replied. "I am certain."