Chapter 21 - Guides

Amanda settled onto the couch still in her traveling cloak and gave a sigh.

"You remained longer than necessary," Sarek said. "Did you not receive my message that indicated you could return?"

"I was stubborn." She lifted her arms and pulled both her hood and her head wrap down, left them gathered around her neck and returned her hands to her lap. She appeared small inside all of her clothes.

"Perhaps we both should have gone," Sarek said.

"No." Amanda sat forward as if considering standing again. "That would not have been better." She sat back again. "You didn't say in your message why you wished me to return."

Sarek signaled for tea and put his work aside. "Our son rejected the offer of a bonding to James Kirk."

Amanda stood up and methodically put her cloak over a nearby chair back, sat in the chair opposite Sarek.

Sarek knew from her lack of speech that it was a continuation of previous lack of speech. "You knew he would do this."

She nodded, raised her head and considered him with sadness.

"He makes everything harder than it needs to be," Sarek said. "Such is the majority of his difficulties."

She looked down. A full tray arrived. Her cloak was taken away. She sipped her tea, put it aside and sat quietly.

"Do you wish to share your experience with Winona Kirk?" Sarek asked.

"She does not like non humans of any kind. Vulcans seem especially disliked. I tried to avoid those topics to reach a companionability with her as a basis for discussion of my real purpose for being there, so I do not know her reasoning in full." She sipped her tea again with the noise she made when it was too hot. "There is no mystery why her children have departed. Although it is to her. The amount of humbling James would have undergo to even get a hearing from her is not something I would ever see him put through."

Sarek nodded. "It is no matter. I misunderstood our son."

Amanda gave him a sympathetic smile. "You were trying to help. Spock will see that eventually."

"You seem to have already deduced that he can not see it at this time."

She continued holding a small smile, nodded.

"I asked him what I could do and he denied that there could be anything I could do," Sarek said. "Perhaps you have an idea."

Amanda looked up. "I would not have held back on any ideas I had in this case."

Sarek nodded. "I thought not, but I also thought it logical to verify."

"I admit I feel I should try and do something for James," Amanda said. "I feel for him acutely after this visit."

"Such as?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you have an idea?" She smiled slyly. Her smile faded and she raised her chin as if in challenge. "If he is going to be with Spock for a time, then he is ours, too."

"He is visiting tomorrow morning. I will meditate on your words in the meantime."

A bell rang somewhere. Zienn rose up from meditation but didn't move. He sat cross-legged in the unusually large shrine room of an old but newly rebuilt monastery. The paintings were fresh and bright except for one that was part of an older preserved wall. The golden figure sat with eyes slitted open. The statue smelled of wood resins leeched over centuries in the heat.

Monks arrived. They took their places around a round marble slab, began pouring colored stone powder through funnels, creating a bright pattern of surprising intricacy. They chatted and joked as they worked. It was some kind of harvest rite that would be destroyed and remade again the next year.

Lhundup came in and prepared tea in the corner where pots were being heated with burning wood.

Someone spoke. Lhundup made his way toward the voice. It was the visiting Rinpoche, or Precious One, asking something.

It was Lhundup who had decided to come to this particular monastery because of the presence of this honored practitioner. Zienn had made his guide choose their next destination. This Rinpoche was well thought of by Lhundup's guru and so Zienn's guide had been excitedly eager to come here once he'd been free to choose a place.

Rinpoche asked another question of Lhundup. Zienn could understand a little of the mixed languages directly and determined that Vulcan and himself were the topics of conversation. Rinpoche asked Lhundup about Vulcan, repeatedly questioning Lhundup's assertion that many Vulcans could achieve complete removal of physical and emotional desire. That Zienn had long ago done so, as a teen, but this was not an end in itself, just a state for further exploration of thought. Lhundup's tone was one of apology as he repeated himself with different phrasing.

The Rinpoche admitted that Zienn had not moved all night. Apparently he had remained here meditating as well, hopefully for his own reasons. Zienn had been too deep in level nine to notice. He had given himself the task of meditating for no purpose, something he had not done in a decade.

Of course, meditating for no purpose was itself a purpose. Zienn felt amusement, a rolling warmth of his thoughts. He'd recognized a capacity for amusement in himself ever since the second meld with Spock which he had not prepared properly for. He had been over confident and steeped himself without hesitation in Spock's mind.

Zienn had begun to question whether amusement was an emotion at all. It didn't feel like one. It felt akin to an appreciation for music or poetry, but in this case an appreciation of the accidental poetry of existence, a perfectly logical awareness of a particular juxtaposition of conflicting elements, often assembling without premeditation.

Zienn stood up and the voices quieted. Lhundup rose too and fetched tea. The Rinpoche reached out a hand and invited Zienn to sit near. He continued to hold out his hand as if expecting it to be taken. Lhundup placed tea on the floor before Zienn and humbly explained that Vulcans did not touch. Ever.

"And they also do not make exceptions," Rinpoche said with a smile of delight.

Zienn didn't reply. He took in the full fleshed human, his tanned bald head topping a round face, dark brown eyes. Zienn picked up his tea. He was feeling irritable again today, a state he could not find the source of.

Rinpoche said, "So, you have achieved a state of awareness?"

Lhundup translated, but sounded as if he was making a show of it.

Zienn considered that he had to put all of himself aside to seek inward toward other realms, or the fabric-like energy of the universe itself. He nodded. There was nothing special about it.

"Do you spend your time now bringing others to the the same state?"

Zienn shook his head.

"This is not considered your responsibility?"

Lhundup explained, at some length, what Zienn's responsibilities were. The two of them had spoken for long hours on the road and Zienn only half tuned into his guide's thoughts as he explained and answered questions.

Rinpoche turned to Zienn with concern. "This is hard for me to understand, that you do not guide others."

"There are others much better at teaching," Zienn said.

"How do you know?"

Zienn didn't have a good answer. He didn't say anything and silence fell for many minutes.

"What now?" Rinpoche asked Zienn.

"I do not know," Zienn said in the local language.

Rinpoche smiled. "Very good." His voice fell low and appreciative. "Very good. Have some tea."

Zienn accepted a refill and drank it down quickly. An injuriously hot beverage for a human was barely warm for him and he didn't want it to cool at all.

"So," Rinpoche said, still delighted. "You must be very brave to have given up everything for this inner purpose. Very few can overcome their fear to commit to much less."

Zienn shook his head. He had wanted nothing else but to get away from the rest of society, to bury the real world in disciplines. Bravery might have been not doing so.

"Are you different even among your people?" Rinpoche asked.

Lhundup answered without translating, "Yes, I think so."

"Do Vulcans believe in incarnations?"

Lhundup replied, "Not exactly. They store the souls of the dead in a holy place. Some souls are considered to have more presence than others. By some. But incarnation in the way you mean."

Rinpoche sat up straighter. "That is not so different. We have temple guardians here, spirits that inhabit the oracles. But they are select lives, not everyone. Everyone, you say, goes on this way?"

Lhundup nodded. "Unless no one reaches them in time at the moment of death."

"I see."

Quiet fell. Some tourists came in, departed again. More traveling monks came in as the morning passed, Rinpoche spoke to them, delighted in them. They accepted their place in an increasingly long row across from Zienn.

Rinpoche leaned close to Zienn. "They think they can brave giving up themselves, but they do not dare sit beside you." He smiled broadly and remained close as Lhundup translated. The monks across from them bowed their heads. The new arrivals were sweating still from the exertion of climbing up to the monastery and their heads were shiny and now flushed as well.

"I will speak to you, since you are still here," Rinpoche said happily to Zienn.

It was true, Zienn had not moved. He was finding Rinpoche strangely fascinating. He had no estimation of his wisdom, but he was kind yet unpredictable and Zienn a mild expectation that he might stumble on a useful observation. The alternative was more meditation for which he knew the outcome.

"So, Master Vulcan, you have freed yourself from all desire, but you are here seeking something. That is unexpected, for me. I am glad you are still here. I have questions. If I can find them." He tapped the side of his head.

"I did not want the desires," Zienn said.

"That means they weren't. Doesn't it?"

Zienn raised a brow.

"You didn't give up anything, it seems, to reach a state of no desire." Rinpoche looked to Lhundup who scrambled up to fetch more tea. "Interesting journey you are on."

"Small things, I gave up," Zienn said. But it was true; he had done exactly what he had wanted to do. He had, in fact, moved toward his desires when he gave up everything.

"May I ask what small things?"

Zienn said, "I was very young. I gave up knowing what I was giving up."

Rinpoche wrapped his hands around his fresh cup and breathed it in. "Perhaps your journey wasn't difficult enough to impart any meaning."

Zienn wanted to deny this. He'd move up, one discipline after another, brutal with himself, working for weeks at a time to fine tune a mental state. But he was wondering if his issue wasn't with a lack of context. He had steeped himself in another reality here in Tibet in an effort to understand. Something. He wasn't even certain what. He wasn't certain of anything, hence his irritability. At least he understood that. Now.

"Meaning," Zienn said, borrowing the language that had been spoken, but feeling the definition in the minds around him. "Meaning derives from context."

Rinpoche said, "I am deeply grateful to you. You have made me see something new. That one can reach a state of perfect awareness and not transcendence. Which of course results from moving from a place into not-a-place. You were never in a place."

"What do you suggest?"

"I suggest you struggle."

Zienn stared at the garish painting on the far wall of a leering monster face.

Rinpoche said, "The last struggle. The one that drove you here. Start by going back to that one."

Zienn thought that over. "There is more than one."

Rinpoche grinned, reached out and pinched Zienn on the back of his arm where it almost hurt. "I am very glad for you to hear that."

A chill breeze pushed fallen leaves along the ground beneath the overhang of the embassy. The clatter of their dried forms sounded unnaturally loud against the stone. Kirk stepped up the marble treads and the door opened as he reached it. He nodded to Sgroud, who bowed in greeting and led Kirk past the busy offices. Kirk felt a bit like he was headed to an official review. He had no idea what Sarek's mood might be, but he knew he wasn't feeling up to the encounter, no matter the mood. The office noises faded behind them. Sgroud opened the door to the den. Kirk pushed his shoulders back and stepped inside.

Sarek stood before a small brazier on a wrought iron stand with an artificial flame inside it. He gestured at the marble tea table surrounded by two thinly padded chairs constructed out of semicircles. "Come in, James Kirk."

Kirk managed a polite smile and took the farther of the pale green seats, assuming Sarek would want to sit closer to the heat. Kirk knitted his hands and waited. He wanted to get this over with, but pretended to be in no hurry.

Sarek sat in the other chair and waited with true patience. Half a minute later a servant came in with a full tea service, including small cakes. The servant poured from the steaming pot and, with a bow, vacated.

"I must make amends for a miscalculation on my part," Sarek said.

Kirk was looking over the cakes. He picked one with a purple fruit center and put it on the silver rimmed plate before him. He brushed off his fingers. "To be honest, there are several things you could be referring to, and I'm not sure which one. But I'm guessing it's the one involving my mother."

"And your Uncle George."

Kirk felt heat under his ribs. "Did you track down my brother Samuel too? He was last on the Deneb Colonies. I think he might be married by now."

Kirk's flippant anger caused Sarek to knit his fingers and sit yet more calmly. Spock had mentioned his father was exhibiting a lot of patience. Kirk wondered if he was seeing that already this encounter.

Kirk didn't mind being angry, but it felt out of place here, immature. He backed off from it and a sense of defeat swept through him.

"We do things a certain way," Sarek said by way of gentle explanation.

Kirk nodded. He sipped his tea, decided he didn't feel like eating the cake he'd selected, even though it was only a bite and a half of food.

"What happened to the headstrong commander I had under my roof last time?" Sarek said.

Kirk raised his chin. "I don't know. You want him here?"

"I was counting on him, actually."

Kirk made a face of dismay. "Okay then. You really wanted me of all people to marry your son? You changed your mind about me?"

Sarek studied Kirk. "Those are fair questions, but not from the man I am seeking." He breathed in and held it. "I need help with my son." He paused. "And I need Commander Kirk to assist me."

"I'm trying to help with Spock, but he's his own being and I insist on respecting that. I know he needs temple training. I haven't discouraged him, but he hates the idea of it. And I'm determined to be on his side. To the end."

Sarek stared at Kirk. He steepled his fingers and raised his index fingers to rest them under his nose. "May I have your thoughts, James?"

Kirk sat back. His heart sped up but he covered for it. Uselessly. Sarek's hearing would have already detected it. "Why?"

"I was informed that Exalted High Priest Zienn healed you. He has no experience melding with humans."

Kirk turned away, bit into his cake. "He was very careful."

"I am sure."

"I'm healed. I'm just set back a bit. As expected, really. I've been here before. I gotten over it before." He stopped himself from talking more. Repeating this, yet again, was only going to make it even less likely. Kirk frowned at himself, almost bit his thumb, but stopped himself in time, picked up and finished the cake to cover for the motion.

Sarek said, "I am far outside the bounds of Vulcan propriety doing this. But I am going to push you for a meld. I need you as you were before."

Kirk he shifted his chair back and sat straight, hands propped on the chair arms. "You really think it's that easy?" Kirk had wanted to be mocking, but it came out weak.

"You were like this before?" Sarek seemed stone-like, immune to the maelstrom of Kirk's responses. Kirk found himself drawn to that stability.

"I don't really want to talk about it." Kirk tried to sound easy going but heard himself fail at it. "It brings up my mother again, for one thing."

"I am quite familiar with the human mind."

"One human mind," Kirk said. "You can't insist. I know you aren't allowed to."

"Nevertheless, I am very close to doing so."

Kirk lifted his shoulders in surprise. "Really?"

"May I ask why you resist?" Sarek asked.

"If I don't work this out myself I don't deserve what comes after. It won't be my strength I'm using to go on, something I can rely upon. " Kirk tapped his chest with his bunched fingertips. "This is how I get through. I get through on my own. It's the only way I know I can count on me, next time."

Sarek nodded. "I do understand this. And deeply respect it. But I also wish to ensure your care has been seen to properly. It is my responsibility to do this, especially given the cause of your difficulty. Will you allow it?"

Kirk looked away. He crossed his arms but it felt awkward. The idea that Sarek could fix him to some previous place was absurd. He knew these pathways in his mind. They were old, familiar ones.

Kirk longed to push away farther, to stand up and pace, to turn away from the scent of the cakes and the tea, hold onto what he had. What he clung to was already too fragile to put forward as a shield against the universe. He had no spare part of himself left to risk. It had been the same after returning from Tarsus. He'd avoided his friends and their painful lack of understanding. He'd switched to doing his schooling from home. He'd pulled what little remained around himself and carefully protected it. And he'd gotten through it.

Sarek hadn't moved, was still exuding an unwavering stability. "I take such responsibility very seriously."

Kirk was trying to remember outgrowing that fragility. It started out as defiance, his mother's certainty that he would not go to Starfleet Academy, or if he did go, he'd return soon enough, tail between his legs. And it had worked. And it worked again when he was tested, time and again. Until Finnegan had forced him to spend his off hours holed up in his dorm room. Even that had worked out. He'd forced it to. He'd never really loved learning until those long hours of escape, roommate and fellow cadets out, elsewhere. It had been a kind of journey, exploring knowledge in a way he'd never done before.

Kirk turned his head away but remained sitting. He'd promised Spock he'd let Zienn meld with him again. This wasn't any different. Even he had to admit that.

"Sure," Kirk said.

I thought of a way to work in some action. Along with more angst, of course. But it will be a few chapters.