Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Three

The Birthday Party

T'Pol

"You okay, darlin'?"

It is rare that my master (for so, officially, I must still call him) would still be wakeful after a long day followed by a celebration and then sexual intercourse, but rather to my surprise I turn my head on the pillow and find him watching me.

"Very well," I reply. "I was merely processing the events of the evening. I found some of them … thought-provoking."

It was Lieutenant Cutler's birthday. To celebrate this, and also apparently as some form of consolation for not being invited to the Empress's Accession Celebration some weeks ago, General Reed ordered a surprise birthday party to be arranged. There were, of course, the usual adjuncts during her working day (a cake, and party food for the hospital staff in her department and such patients on her ward as could be allowed to sample it, as well as singing a song that is apparently an ancient Earth custom on the occasion), but afterwards the General arranged a private meal in his quarters. I would have expected the commodore to be invited as a guest of honor, but he was offered the opportunity to bring a guest of his own. Much to my amazement, he chose me.

Naturally, as a slave I did not own anything that could be construed as 'party wear'. However, Lieutenant Cutler was not the only one to be surprised, for shortly before we were due to attend – me wearing what I considered to be the most appropriate set of off-duty clothing I owned – the commodore handed me a flat cardboard box, telling me to slip into the bathroom when we arrived and change there. It proved to contain a simple gown, made up in a style that while certainly not traditional Vulcan, at least rendered it a nod of homage. The fabric was plain undyed linen and it would have been inappropriate for me to own jewelry, but there was also a choker of the same color velvet to go around my throat. As illogical as it may be, when I saw my reflection in the mirror I felt a reprehensible surge of emotion.

To do the occasion honor, Trip was wearing his own dress uniform. He explained the gift away as his not wanting to have me standing out at the party 'like a crow among peacocks', but I saw the warmth in his eyes (as well as the admiration, for the gown is extremely flattering) and was once again obliged to suppress an illogical emotional reaction.

Rather to my surprise, when we entered the dining room where our host and hostess were waiting for us, I found it was a dinner for four. In hindsight I should have expected this, for it would have been dangerously improper for me to be seen by others wearing clothing that – however plain – was emphatically not suitable for a slave. That was why I had had to take the gown with me; the box also contained a hand-woven silk kaftan that was a birthday gift for Lieutenant Cutler, which would account for me carrying it. The lieutenant would also pretend the gown was hers, as it would not even have been safe for it to be found in my possession.

I already knew how magnificent the General can look in his dress uniform, but I was frankly taken aback to find how attractive Lieutenant Cutler could appear when 'dressed to the nines', as the Earth saying has it. She was wearing a figure-hugging dress of dark blue silk, with a single pear-shaped Kodalan diamond on a thread-fine gold chain around her neck, and a matching wrist-band with an arrangement of exquisitely made silk flowers attached to it. By her demeanor I suspected that she had still not recovered from the discovery that the general had taken the trouble to organize the surprise for her, and confess I had never seen her look so happy and carefree. The contrast between her now and the worn, battered, pitiable young woman who had been the object of so much contempt and derision aboard Enterprise was truly staggering.

It was not a long meal – both of the senior officers had worked long hours and would be up again early the next morning – but there was an air of happiness and affection about it that I had never suspected Humans were capable of. A toast was duly drunk to the lieutenant's health (another strange Earth custom that Trip has never yet succeeded in satisfactorily explaining) and then the general handed her a small flat case that contained a bracelet of sapphires and diamonds; as soon as that was fastened around her free wrist Trip passed over the box containing the kaftan, which the recipient clearly found very much to her taste, but declined putting on straight away.

It was not the beautiful clothes that lingered in my mind afterwards, nor the splendid food and wine. It was the change in the general's face that struck me, here where he clearly felt able to be at ease. His smile at Lieutenant Cutler almost transformed it, softening its harsh lines beyond recognition. It dawned on me that I had never seen anything like this look on him, though in moments of the greatest tenderness between Trip and me I have seen it on the commodore's.

Is the general in love with Lieutenant Cutler?

There was a change, too, in the way both the lieutenant and the general behaved towards me. Although when we have shared the same table in the Mess they have been suitably civil, they've only ever spoken to me when necessary; however, at one point tonight General Reed complimented me on my appearance – almost as if he were speaking to a Human. Naturally I suspected some kind of irony, or even a reference to the impropriety of my wearing anything so unsuitable for a slave, but I detected no such meaning in his tone or his expression. (That in itself might be of no significance whatsoever, because he is more than capable of feigning anything he deems necessary, but the difference between his manner to me now and the memory of his brutality and evil when he raped me aboard Enterprise was quite frankly remarkable.) Trip responded, laughingly, saying 'Watch it, bub, she's spoken for!', which the lieutenant appeared to reinforce by nudging her partner as if jealous of his attention. I was perplexed by this, because it seemed to disregard the fact that since I am a slave and General Reed outranks my master, he can demand my services whether the commodore approves or not, and certainly without Lieutenant Cutler's permission. Nor, in the proper scheme of things, would it be even slightly appropriate for Trip to address a superior officer as 'Bub' (a slang term denoting disrespect), even if he now addresses him in private as 'Mal'. The general reacted, however, as though he had been appropriately 'warned off', so I could only conclude that it was some jocular, specifically Human interplay appropriate between friends, an idiosyncrasy of the type that only members of the species understand when it is safe to indulge in.

It was not only the general who involved me in the conversation. Lieutenant Cutler also spoke to me very much as she would do to a Human guest, asking me quite cordially about my family and my childhood on Vulcan. Naturally I had to be extremely cautious in my replies, for I never allow myself to forget that I am in the presence of the Head of Imperial Security, but she seemed genuinely interested, and it felt almost like the first cautious probe towards offering me friendship – insofar as such a thing would be possible between a Human of her rank and a Vulcan slave, even if I have not completely misunderstood her intention.

The relatively early termination of the birthday meal was not simply because the senior officers have to be up early in the morning. Trip accompanied me into the bathroom afterwards 'to help me change back into my ordinary clothes', and in the process he made it amply clear how much he had appreciated how I looked in what he had bought me, and how much he was looking forward to seeing me in nothing at all. To judge by General Reed's expression when he pressed a kiss onto his partner's wrist as they retired, I have no doubt whatsoever that something of the kind was in his mind too; the lieutenant seemed to have no difficulty reading that extremely speaking look, for she blushed in a way he probably found most attractive.

I could almost pity them, for, both of them being Human, they have no recourse to the depth of intimacy that Trip and I achieve with our minds as well as our bodies joining; but nevertheless, looking at them I felt that there was something between them now that was almost a force in its own right, something that had grown slowly and perhaps even painfully out of the struggle to resurrect and remold a human being out of the wreckage of the monster who had terrorized the Empire.

So many people have put so much effort into this all-but-impossible dream. They have risked everything. And perhaps that look, not intended for anyone else, is the clearest indication yet that a gamble which I once feared was an indication that Commodore Tucker was verging on the insane is finally going to pay off.

Trip is waiting for my response, and I am aware that my delay has made him curious. If I had been worried earlier on he would have detected it; when our minds join I no longer conceal anything from him. So he is puzzled to find me still slow to sleep.

"I was thinking about General Reed," I say at last, opting for honesty. "He seems almost … transformed."

"Yeah. Love does that to a guy." He strokes a hand down my face. "Just needed the right environment to bring it out, is all."

I have feared all along that we were all being gulled by a patient, dangerous, devious man, willing to do whatever it took to regain power. Maybe the only thing that will finally dismiss that lingering suspicion is the proof of what he actually does when he acquires it. But after seeing that unguarded look, even I am finding it harder and harder to hang on to my cynicism. If even I can be granted some measure of absolution – which, given the cruel words I used to him once, as well as my participation in a mind meld which he clearly found traumatic, must be regarded as an indicator of some utterly remarkable change in him – then it is becoming daily easier to hope that this change may affect all of our lives for the better.

"It was not just Lieutenant Cutler who was responsible for his transformation," I reply, twining my fingers with his. "It required love from a very different source to give him the chance. And a quite remarkable faith in Human nature."

Trip smiles sleepily. "I've never yet found a man who could withstand kindness. 'Specially when it's somethin' he's been starved of for years. All I had to do was convince him to take a sip. Hell, even hornets lap up sugar-water!"

General Reed being compared to a hornet is probably not very respectful, but it amuses him. With a laugh he pulls me closer. "Quit lyin' there thinkin', you're keepin' me awake. An' I've got to at least make some sense at the mornin' meetin'."

"On the contrary, I doubt if your subordinates would even notice if you made none at all," I respond, though I certainly do not make any attempt to free myself from his arms.

He pulls back his head to give me a mock glare, and then laughs out loud and pulls me even closer. "Chuckles, I'd slap your ass if I had the energy. But you'll keep till the mornin'.

"Now, let's get some sleep!"

How long it seems now since being held in this way felt like imprisonment. Now, it feels like the ultimate security. I listen to his breathing lengthen and deliberately empty my own mind of thought.

Tomorrow is a step nearer to a future that is beginning to look brighter than I would ever have dared imagine.

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