Chapter 113
Sarek sat quietly in the Matriarch's study. He was next in a long line of Vulcan men submitting to her periodic assessment. He wasn't expecting any news as he himself had felt no change but he was going to use this chance for an audience with her to his advantage.
He bowed his head as she entered. He calmed his mind as she raised her small hands to his temples to minimize the risk of unwanted telepathic transference. He registered the touch of her cold fingers before focussing on his breathing.
After the usual three minutes in this manner had passed, Sarek glanced at his clan leader's face, wondering why this time it was taking longer. He could see her eyes twitching beneath her eyelids like he had seen Amanda do sometimes when she entered the REM phase of human sleep. He noticed in this secret moment of inspection how much softer T'Pau's face looked during this activity. If he looked carefully, he could see traces of the young woman she had once been.
Suddenly her eyelids flickered so he dropped his gaze hastily. He remained that way as she removed her hands and gave her verdict.
"Your time is coming."
Sarek felt an unpleasant spike of alarm pass through him but he suppressed it quickly.
"How long do I have?" he asked quietly.
T'Pau was silent for a few moments.
"My estimations indicate that you have almost a year," she said calmly.
She had detected it earlier than last time. This was not a surprise though as he had been advised that the Matriarch would become better at detecting and monitoring his condition the more cycles he completed.
A year… Would that be enough time to prepare her?
"I have not felt any effects yet but I will postpone travel to Terra until this has passed," he said.
He knew that Amanda would not be pleased but in time she would understand.
"That will not be necessary. You have six months before you must restrict yourself to T'Khasi. However you will begin to notice the effects in three. I strongly recommend you return before those effects risk revealing themselves."
Sarek breathed out slowly. This was good news.
"And when will you inform her?" he asked delicately.
It was traditional for the Matriarch to reveal this to brides that had no experience so that they could benefit from her guidance and help with preparation.
"Not yet," she stated mysteriously.
He risked raising his gaze to look at her.
"Perhaps she can be informed after we have returned from our excursion?" he proposed. "This would avoid unnecessary anxiety."
The Matriarch's sharp eyes scrutinized him. It was not customary for the male to have any say regarding the Matriarch's preparation of their bondmate. However he wanted to avoid this overshadowing their trip. Although she was adept at hiding her internal emotions to the public, her family and close friends would notice.
"If you think that is best," she conceded. "But she must be told before you display symptoms. She will need to be educated on these and how to administer to them."
As well as to tell her when he was too far gone, he realized. He nodded his obeisance.
Now that the Matriarch had completed her assessment, she shifted in her seat as she prepared to rise. But Sarek wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.
"Your grace, I have a different request regarding my wife," he said.
She stilled before looking at him sternly. Formally he should have requested a separate private audience with her but he didn't want to draw attention and trigger speculation.
"Speak," she commanded.
"When she is ready to participate in telepathic exercises as a result of elder S'Kelnek's training, I wish to assist," he requested.
The Matriarch shook her head.
"She is not that capable and will not be for some time," she said assuredly. "But should the time come then I will consider your request."
Then she stood up and opened the study door to invite the next participant in which left no more time for discreet questions.
Sarek rose and walked purposefully to the nearest courtyard before pausing, looking up into the clear sky.
What is S'Kelnek hiding?
T'Pen returned from the bedroom to find Amanda reclined in the living area reading an article on her dusky colored PADD. As she passed behind her with some outdoor shoes she had recently cleaned she noted the page that she was reading. As she had expected, even though she had been busy in the bedroom for some time the Lady Amanda was still on the same page…
T'Pen had begun to notice this momentary paralysis regularly now but it wasn't just this strange behavior that alarmed her. It was as if she was becoming less human, becoming less Amanda.
She placed the shoes by the front door before coming to kneel respectfully before the Lady Amanda's frozen form. As she remained oblivious to her presence, T'Pen called out to her.
"T'sai?" she said quietly, using the honorific of "Lady" out of respect.
The Lady Amanda twitched and after a moment, lowered her PADD to look at T'Pen with surprise. This was the Amanda that she knew.
"T'Pen! I didn't see you there."
The Lady Amanda automatically slipped off the chair to kneel down closely opposite T'Pen as she often did. Still the same Amanda.
T'Pen waited for her to settle before getting straight to the point.
"Your response is delayed," she stated firmly.
The Lady Amanda dipped her head briefly.
"I was distracted T'Pen. And you are very light on your feet," she reminded gently, her head cocked to one side.
Still Lady Amanda. Before she could speak again, T'Pen interrupted.
"Why don't you dance with me anymore?"
They had not danced together since their performance all those weeks ago. She had always claimed tiredness or that she had some other task to complete.
"You must realize T'Pen that I tire quickly," she tried to explain.
T'Pen failed to understand why this wasn't a problem before. So why was it now?
"Besides, I'll only slow you down. You are far more talented and should focus on your progression," she explained kindly.
The Lady Amanda was slow, T'Pen admitted to herself, but not incapable enough that it was not worth the investment of her time. It helped them to bond but T'Pen didn't know how to explain this without experiencing discomfort. She decided to move to another subject.
"Then what about your singing? You don't sing anymore," she pointed out.
The Lady Amanda furrowed her brow briefly.
"I can't sing. I don't know what you mean," she said confused.
"You used to during chores or brushing your hair or…" T'Pen swallowed, or when you dressed mine.
T'Pen longed for the calming effect it had on her. But the Lady Amanda shook her head.
"I don't recall. You must be mistaken," she said coolly.
And when T'Pen looked into her eyes it was as if the usual warmth was gone. The face and body were hers but the spirit was not. This superior demeanor was most definitely not Lady Amanda.
"Where is she?" T'Pen demanded, leaning forward in her intensity.
"Where is who?" the intruder asked quizzically.
"Where is the real Amanda?" she questioned.
She cocked her head to the side but the cold gaze remained.
"But T'Pen, I am…"
"Stop lying!" T'Pen accused.
She felt anger boil up within her but managed to push it down. She would not, cannot use it. She balled her hands into fists with the effort to control it.
"How dare you use that tone with me you…" the intruder started to say sternly.
The Lady Amanda would never have said that to her. Not in that voice. A flash of pain burst across T'Pen's side.
"Where is my mother?" she said, desperately.
She only realized what she had said once she had heard herself say it. Her eyes widened in shock.
The impostor leaned forward until their faces were barely touching, her empty eyes boring into her before she hissed:
"I am not your mother."
T'Pen suddenly felt something tear open within her and the anger rushed forth. Before she knew what she was doing her hand was moving of its own accord. A loud slap echoed in the room. And the Lady Amanda crumpled to the floor. T'Pen watched in horror as she saw her mistress fall and hit her head on the stone floor. She lay there still, her eyes closed.
T'Pen was frozen, unable to process or believe what had just happened. She had just attacked her mistress. Her one protector. She moved forward to look at her, all previous anger evaporated. Her face was pale. Surely she hadn't… The Lady Amanda must be still alive. She must be, she assured herself.
"T'sai?" she whispered.
But the Lady Amanda didn't move. Fear was starting to creep in but she was too distressed to control it. She reached for her mistress's headscarf, tugging it back gently her head rolled and T'Pen gasped as she saw a small ruby red patch had appeared on the cloth.
Suddenly T'Pen felt like she could no longer breathe. She shuffled backward and stood up quickly. She stared for a moment at her mistress's prone form before finally giving in to her instincts. She ran.
Far away in the desert, the comatose Samaritan began to breathe more deeply.