Chapter 3
Heedless of Spock's disapproval, mother and son clung to one another and surrendered to an unrestrained display of blatant emotionalism.
"How long have you been here?" she asked when they finally, reluctantly tugged apart. "And how did you get in?"
"I arrived just this evening. Fortunately, you never changed the security combination for the back door. I simply crawled into a quiet spot and waited out the end of your party."
"It would be more accurately called an official function than a party," Spock observed. "However, the unaltered code was intentional."
"We hoped you'd use it again someday. And now you have."
"And now I have," Jarrod repeated. Slowly, his expression became more serious. "Father, I am aware that Starfleet has expressed a desire to confer with me in an official capacity. It is my intention to turn myself in for voluntary arrest once I have had an opportunity to visit with my sisters. I would ask that you give me a few hours tomorrow before you contact Captain Taylor...or whoever has taken charge of my case since I left."
Zarabeth took his hand. "You don't need to worry about that anymore. Therov was captured almost two years ago, turned in by his own people when he tried to stir up trouble among the Andorians. Michaela - and it's Commodore Taylor now, by the way - finally managed to close the case against you."
"I'm free? They don't even wish to question me?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Captain Taylor always would do anything for you, Mother."
"Nonsense. She did it for you. Besides, the people in charge of such things decided that you were more Therov's victim than his confederate. And it was because of you that no one was injured at the Terraforming conference. We wanted to tell you all this a long time ago, but we had no way to contact you."
"I know," he said quietly. "I've purposely stayed beyond the reach of news. There are many things I need to catch up on. For example, that boy I saw earlier- is he my brother?" Despite an obvious effort, he could not keep a note of hurt from his voice.
"Yes. He's named for your father, but we call him Kai. Actually it's what he chooses to call himself. It sort of stuck."
"He is my replacement, then."
"Jarrod! Of course not!"
"Then he does not occupy my old room?"
"Well, yes, but - "
"After the third year of your absence, it became necessary to make more efficient use of that particular space," Spock broke in firmly. "Lidia has retained her own room, but Adonia is currently away at Starfleet Academy. You may use hers pending other arrangements."
"Adonia is at Starfleet?" Jarrod's cheeks flushed. He shook his head angrily. "Actually, it won't be necessary for you to put me up. I traveled here with a friend, and the two of us have taken rooms in the city."
His parents exchanged wondering looks. "You've brought someone with you?" Zarabeth asked with obvious surprise.
"Yes. For nearly a year, I have been helping to build and establish a Federation colony on a small planet known as Gamma Aurelius. The people there, and one in particular, offered me a degree of acceptance I have found nowhere else. In fact, it was she who convinced me to return and settle things here." Briefly, he ducked out of the room and motioned to someone waiting just outside the door. "Leila?"
Moments later, Leila stood beside him, facing his parents. Not for the first time when it came to dealing with his father, Jarrod found himself puzzled. When he had shown himself after an absence of five long years, Spock had seemed only mildly, and distantly, surprised. For some reason, the sight of Leila Kalomi left him in a state of utter astonishment.
- - -
After a sleepless half-night in their adjoining rented rooms, the two of them returned to find Spock waiting in the entry hall. His Vulcan demeanor was firmly in place again, Jarrod noticed.
"Your mother and Lidia are waiting for you inside," Spock informed him without preamble. "Miss Kalomi, I would like to speak to you in my study."
She followed him without argument or the slightest show of anxiety-not the usual reaction his father inspired among strangers, Jarrod thought as he hesitantly set off in the opposite direction.
"Is this a formal inquiry, Ambassador?" she asked as he directed her to a seat facing his desk.
"If you wish to think of it that way."
"Perhaps I'll reserve judgment until our conversation is underway."
"As you wish." Settling into his own high-backed chair, he steepled his fingers and regarded her warily. "I shall begin by thanking you for convincing Jarrod to return to Amphitrite. His absence has long been a source of great distress to my wife."
"Yes, I can imagine. But not to you?"
Not to her surprise, he declined to answer. Instead, he parried her question with one of his own.
"Tell me how you came to be acquainted with my son."
"It was very much as he said. He became a member of our colony, and he and I became friends. At first, I had no idea who he was. Then, gradually, the details began to emerge. I must admit that even before he mentioned your name, I knew he was your son. Maybe that's because I'd so often imagined what our own son might have been like. He wasn't far different from what I'd envisioned."
"I see." He averted his eyes. "Then I may assume you have become a kind of maternal figure to him during his absence from home. Commendable, considering his age and occasional want of judgment."
"No, it wasn't-and isn't-really like that, either. Perhaps in some sense I did remind him of his mother. He spoke of her often. More than he spoke of you, in fact."
"Then he is unaware of our previous connection."
"There never seemed to be a time, or a way, to tell him. I take it you've said nothing to your wife, either."
"If she-or either of them-should ask, I cannot mislead them. However, I have not decided it whether will become necessary to offer the information freely."
"How would they even think to ask? It's so outrageously unlikely-assuming that you and I don't exchange any indiscreet comments or looks."
"Agreed. And, since that is highly unlikely to occur, our present concern may in fact be groundless."
"I'm glad you're so confident about that." Leila sighed. "I really did want his return to be a happy occasion for both sides."
"If that is true, your intentions would appear to contradict your actions. As an emotional being yourself, you must have realized that coming here while concealing your true identity could produce an unfortunate result."
"I haven't concealed my identity from anyone-only certain details of my history. With that one exception, your son knows everything about me. As for my coming here, even if the others did know, what is the harm in my visiting a friend I haven't seen in more than thirty years? I would think your diplomatic training impressed upon you the value of maintaining as many long-term social connections as possible."
"Then I see no reason not to reveal our the circumstances of our previous acquaintance at once."
She studied the edge of his desk. "If that is what you intend to do, I have no means of stopping you. However, I might remind you of what you said only a few minutes ago. Your son is both young and impulsive. Do you really want to put him in the position of resenting us both when he hasn't even been home for a full day yet?" When he didn't answer, she pressed on. "Besides, why do you insist on seeing this as all my doing? Obviously you've never mentioned me either, or my name would have been familiar to both of them."
"There seemed no need."
"So why can't I simply lay claim to the same defense? Let's face it, Spock, we don't have much choice but to carry on as if we're strangers to one another, at least for now. If circumstances change, we'll just have to come up with another way out."
"The feasibility of the strategy you suggest rather depends on how long you plan to stay here. May I inquire...?"
"For the moment, I've left my work on Gamma Aurelius in other hands. However, I will have to get back there within the space of a few weeks. Whether Jarrod decides to return with me is another question entirely."
She could tell by the way his mouth narrowed that he could come up with no less volatile solution.
"It wouldn't really be a lie, anyhow. The last time we saw each other, we really were different people, living vastly different lives. The things we spoke of then would be meaningless today."
"Perhaps so."
He agreed a bit too quickly and easily for her comfort, though she was careful not to let her disappointment show. "Why don't we put it in the best possible light? It will be like reenacting a chapter from our past. Not everyone gets the chance to start fresh."
"That may be for the best. There are those who would be unable to accept that the outcome of such a reenactment must be different."
"Then I seen we are complete agreement."
And they were, she decided as she got up to leave the room. He was as literally minded as ever, leaving the nuances of interpretation to her.
- - -
While Lidia and Kai dawdled over their morning meal, Zarabeth took Jarrod into the sitting room and played Adonia's latest hololetter from Starfleet Academy for him. She looked graceful and confident in her cadet's uniform, which seemed to fit her so much better than his had ever fit him. According to her narrative, she was making excellent progress in all subjects except, ironically enough, advanced conversational Vulcan. Midterms were another six weeks away, and after that, assuming she passed them, a short leave would be permissible.
"I hope you'll be able to see her then," his mother hinted. "She has never stopped asking about you."
Indeed, the hololetter closed with an inquiry about her missing brother, asking if any news had been received. Jarrod couldn't help but blush with guilt and affection.
"The last time I saw her, she was sobbing over Therov. I can hardly believe that is the same person. And, believe it or not, I'm glad she was able to succeed in Starfleet. Father must be thrilled."
"He is, though he'd never use that word."
"I suppose he didn't use it when my brother arrived, either."
"Of course not, though in that case, it seemed appropriate. They were certainly cut from the same genetic cloth-just as I've always believed you and I were."
"He is a very serious child," said Jarrod, glancing through the open door into the next room. His younger brother stared back, his expression never changing. "I thought he'd more curious about the brother he never knew he had."
"Now that is unfair, Jarrod." His mother's voice suddenly grew stern. "Of course he knew about you all along. We have never denied your existence to anyone."
"No doubt you used me as an example of what he should not become. Fortunately, it worked, and he will not disappoint you as I did."
Agitated, he made a move to get up, but she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back to face her again. "I can understand your resentment, even your jealousy. But did you expect us all to stop living because you had gone away? I'm sorry, but we didn't. I did think of you every morning, and again at night. But my life continued. So did your father's, and both your sisters'. What choice did we have?"
"I understand," he said coldly.
"Do you? Kai was a surprise to us, too. But we were glad to have him - maybe because he did remind us of you. But he was never intended to take your place."
"I guess I just didn't think things would change this much."
"Things change every day. It's inevitable. That doesn't mean we stopped missing you."
"I never did, either," Jarrod admitted. "Some nights, I wanted to come home so badly that I almost imagined I was here. I could see everything, even the shadows on the wall. I could smell the soil in the garden, the must in the boathouse."
"That's what exile is like. I could have told you, if you'd asked before you left."
"I was a coward. I couldn't face prison. And I knew what it would do to you."
"All right. Let's not speak of that again. You're home now- for however long - and you're free. Whatever mistakes you made, you must have made up for them."
"I don't know. I hope so."
"Besides, we're not the only ones who are different now. It's not just that you're older. It's that you're-I don't know-more at ease with yourself. I suppose I can guess one reason for that." "You mean Leila." A bit of color crept back into his cheeks. "She's been a good friend to me. I can tell her most anything, and she seems to know what I should do."
"That might be because she's twice your age."
His head came up quickly, eyes flashing with that familiar rebelliousness. "You and she are of an age; do you consider yourself too old for me to talk to?"
"Don't be disrespectful." She tried not to smile.
"I'm sorry. About that and other things." He leaned over to kiss her. "I'm glad you were happy in my absence, Mother. Knowing I had made you miserable would have made my lot that much harder."
"I'm happier now that you're back."
"As am I. Do you mind if I go and find Leila? I feel guilty leaving her alone so long while Father interrogates her-about what, I can't imagine."
"My guess would be you. But go ahead. He'll have to forgive the interruption."
"I'll be back later to speak to Father. I just can't face that right now. And maybe we can respond to Adonia's hololetter together."
"All right. Let's plan on both."
To Jarrod's relief, he found that Leila was no longer with Spock, but had wandered back onto the terrace where the reception had been held. When he got closer, he noticed that she was talking to the teenaged Vulcan boy he had seen with his sister the night before. His mother had filled him in on that developing situation; he only hoped that Selyk would not insist on conversing with him in Vulcan. Like Adonia, he had neither an innate love nor talent for his ancestral tongue.
As he approached, Leila let drop the enormous leaf of a potted plant she'd been inspecting. As she drew her hand away, a high-pitching hum filled the air.
"Selyk was just showing me some of Amphitrite's more interesting flora," she explained. "I don't believe I've ever encountered sound-emitting blooms before."
"They're quite annoying during their pollinating season. Still, one has to admire their persistence. I suppose Selyk also told you that almost the entire planet was once covered in water. The Federation spent millions of credits drying it out and reshaping it into a base."
"Actually, I hadn't gotten that far." Selyk's dark eyes met his with startling intensity.
"I understand that you're my sister's friend."
"If that is how it pleases you to think of me. Certainly it is pleasing to my father-and yours, too, I suppose, or I would not be allowed on the premises as often as I am."
"Lidia's up and about, if you've come to call on her. Go ahead in."
"Actually, in this instance I came because Lidia sent me a message earlier this morning, telling me of your visit. It so happens that I have wanted to meet you for some time. I know what happened five years ago; Lidia told me some of it, and the rest I researched on my own. I must say that it took great courage to stand against the Federation the way you did."
"More like foolhardiness. I found that out the hard way."
The boy scowled. "Are you telling me that I would be a fool to share some of your-and Therov's-sentiments about the Federation?"
"You can entertain any sentiments you like, Selyk, whether they reflect mine or not. What matters are your actions, particularly where my sister is concerned. That was something I wish I'd said to Therov five years ago. You can be sure that I feel even more strongly about it today."
His answer displeased Selyk, who didn't bother to conceal his reaction. "I think I will just go and find Lidia," he said curtly. "Perhaps your mother will be good enough to offer me breakfast. I came away from my own house too quickly to replicate anything."
"He has quite a temper for a Vulcan," Leila observed after he'd stalked away.
"He's young yet. Besides, I can't throw stones in that direction, since plenty of people have said the same thing about me." He brushed his hand over the plant and made it murmur again. "If you like the plants here, I'd be happy to show you plenty others in their natural habitat. It would be good like to revisit some of my former haunts in daylight."
"Of course. That sounds lovely."
"Come on, then. We'll walk." They moved away from the house at a casual speed, though he glanced back more than once. "So what did my father want to quiz you about?"
"He wanted to know about your life in the colony. He's actually proud of your accomplishments, you know."
"He might have asked me directly, rather than gone to a perfect stranger for answers. I hope you didn't find his manner off-putting. Many people do."
"Not at all. He is direct, but that was to be expected. And don't worry, I didn't tell him anything but what could be directly verified through colony records. Everything you've ever told me remains between us."
"Still, the two of you had plenty to talk about. You were with him for some time."
"Perhaps that surprises you because you and he have so little to say to one another."
"I don't deny it." His eyes narrowed, but he let the matter drop.
- - -
The following day, Spock left for his office at the Embassy with some relief. Not surprisingly, his only private interview with his son had proven both abbreviated and unsatisfactory. They had agreed not to discuss the events of five years ago, inquiries about what Jarrod planned to do with his future seemed not merely premature, and any mention of Leila was potentially explosive. These restrictions left little else on which they could safely converse, so subsequent discourse was limited to his own general questions and Jarrod's monosyllabic responses. Clearly, true accord between them would require many more hours of negotiation.
At least Leila had not returned to the house with him, sending instead an excuse about conducting some business on behalf of their fellow colonists. This show of discretion prompted Spock's approval, though he doubted she would stay away indefinitely.
Meanwhile, the proposed Hrajillian entente demanded his attention. As an intensely private culture, they had submitted only a handful of cultural artifacts for Federation analysis. Among these were two books, primitively bound and reproduced, which his aides had been hard at work translating. Perusing both the originals and the appended notes, he was dismayed to find that the two volumes contained no factual exposition on Hrajillian customs or history, but were instead melodramatic fictions designed to entertain. Getting through them would be more of a chore than he had anticipated. Yet the interruption, when it came a few hours later, was one he did not welcome.
Leila had not come empty-handed; the box of disks she set on the desk in front of him had clearly traveled a long, arduous, and somewhat dusty path.
"Before I left Gamma Aurelius, some of the people there entrusted me with these data modules," she explained. "We're so far from the nearest Starbase that it can take months, even years, for them to get even the briefest messages to their loved ones. They were hoping that I could find a way to send them from here and expedite the process a little. I thought perhaps you knew where and how I could transmit them."
Spock extracted one of the cartridges, wiped its surface, and examined it doubtfully. "Your technology on Gamma Aurelius is out of date. Modules of this type became obsolete almost a decade ago."
"We use what we brought with us. Supply ships visit us infrequently, and they bring only necessities-or, occasionally, new colonists."
Having completed his inspection of the module, he returned it to the box and stood. "I believe these can be converted to meet current standards. I will see that the contents are properly and securely transmitted."
"If you don't mind, I'd like to have them back when you're finished. Perhaps any responses could be encoded back on the same disks. That way I can deliver the mail in person when I get home."
"Of course. I will attend to it directly."
"May I come with you?"
He did not object, so she followed him down a spacious corridor to a room devoted to just the sort of operation her assignment required. Leila watched, impressed, as Spock crossed the room and entrusted the box of disks to an aide. The younger man listened intently to his orders and then hurried off to fulfill them.
"You may be assured that the task will be carried out at once," Spock said when he returned to her side. "If and when there are further developments, I shall notify you."
"Thank you," she said. He remained silent, apparently waiting for her to leave, a fact she decided to ignore. "There was just one other thing. I wondered if you might accompany me to lunch. I'm not familiar with the city, and Jarrod is eating at home with his mother. Since I'm technically your guest, and we still have some issues to discuss, I don't think that's an unreasonable request."
Though he looked vaguely uncomfortable, Leila knew he could find no rational pretext for refusing. "Very well. If you are still vegetarian, I do know of an establishment that should suffice."
"As a matter of fact, I am. Please-lead the way."
He did. A short time later, they were settled at an outdoor table in the middle of a public square. With some amusement, Leila wondered if he had chosen this place to discourage even the possibility of an impulsive outburst on her side. If so, how little credit he gave her. The very young woman who had wept and begged for his love no longer existed. In her place was one who could control and direct her emotions as well as he could-maybe better. After all, she'd spent over thirty years preparing for this very conversation. He obviously had never even expected it to take place.
She decided not to waste any time; he respected directness, she knew, and she was in no mood for polite but irrelevant prattle.
"Why do you and your son not get along?" she asked as soon as the food had been served. Good, she thought; that certainly startled him.
"It is my understanding that rebelliousness is a normal attribute of adolescent psychology. Admittedly he has carried it a bit further than most children do."
"Do you think that's all it is? He told me once how you saved his life and his mother's. He said they could not have survived without you."
"They might have survived without my intervention. In what condition, and for how long, it is impossible to say. However, I am surprised that he spoke of such matters to you. He has seldom even alluded to them in my presence."
"As I told you, we are friends. That means we confide in one another. And now let me tell you something. It's just speculation, really. I believe that you think he is not sufficiently grateful for the life you have provided him."
"A lack of gratitude is also quite common among the young. I seem to recall my own father expressing similar disappointment in me."
"Well, I see it differently. I believe he feels that he is too much in your debt. After all, he tried to follow you into Starfleet, and failed. He tried to express himself through politics, and that literally blew up in his face. In my opinion, he is far more disappointed in himself than you could ever be in him."
"Your theory is interesting, but misguided. I have never demanded that he emulate me. It would not be possible, in any case. He is more Sarpeid than Vulcan, and always has been."
She nodded, sampling her food without really tasting it. "He is very like his mother. Maybe that's why I couldn't really dislike her, even though I expected to. She loves you madly-that would be obvious to any woman, but especially to me. And you can return that?"
"She does not ask me to be what I am not."
"And I did. You don't have to say it." A flicker of pain contorted her face for a moment. "Spock, do you remember when your ship evacuated our colony, and we had to travel with you for a few days, until you left us off at the Starbase?"
His brows sank on his forehead. She noticed that he had not touched his own plate. "Of course I remember."
"You avoided me while I was on board-I don't think we exchanged more than a dozen words after we left orbit. Still, whether you knew it or not, I kept track of where you went, what you did."
"I did know it."
"And did you know that I discovered where your quarters were, too? That last night we spent on the ship, I went there and stood outside your door for-well, I don't know, it felt like hours, though it probably was only a few minutes. I was trying to steel myself to summon you. When you answered, I was going to do everything in my power to talk my way inside. I was determined to spend the rest of that night with you. In the end, I didn't have the courage to try."
He stared at her, saying nothing and revealing less. Leila was no longer even feigning an interest in the meal.
"I can't help but wonder, even after all these years," she continued, her voice far less steady than she'd intended, "whether, if I'd been just a bit more reckless then, I might be the one living with you in that house today."
At a table beside them, a group of Terrans laughed boisterously at a joke one of them had just told. The clamor made it impossible for either of them to say anything more for several minutes.
"Leila," he finally said, "there is no point in speculating about such things."
"No? I think there is. For a very long time, I convinced myself that you didn't care for me because you couldn't care for anyone. Now I find that you have married for love-while I never married at all."
"Surely that was your own choice."
"Not really. How could I choose a man who could never begin to measure up to you? And none of them did, or ever will. I know I shouldn't feel that way, but I do. There's no way either to deny or change that fact."
His response caught her off guard. "Does that assessment include my son?"
"Your son is a different situation. He's part of you, after all." Unable to meet his eyes, she gazed down into the rapidly congealing mass of vegetables and sauces on her plate. "We'll have to tell them now. Things have gone too far, just as you warned me. There can be no more pretending."
"Agreed. I suggest we seize the earliest opportunity that presents itself."
"Tonight. I need some time to find the words. Jarrod will be very upset, even angry. Do you think your wife will understand?"
"She will understand that we tried to spare his pride. For that reason alone, I think she will excuse our actions."
"I suppose. Spock-please tell me the truth. Do you ever regret choosing her?"
He shook his head. "Never."
"Fair enough. My disappointment was your good fortune-or hers, I should say."
The conversation, like the meal, ended there, though it took a good deal longer for the bill to be delivered and then charged to Spock's standing account. In the meantime, they were forced to remain at the table, somewhat awkwardly avoiding each other.
Most intriguing, decided Sumarr, who had been watching for some time from his own table in the corner. His lunch, too, had grown cold and unappetizing, but he considered a few wilted greens a small price to pay. Clearly, he had stumbled across more than an ordinary social call or a chance meeting at mealtime. The expression on the woman's face-so transparent, these humans-told him far more than he needed to guess.
This information, he knew, could prove very useful when he presented his case to Selyk's potential father-in-law. A charge of hypocrisy, after all, could be an amazingly persuasive tool.
Heedless of Spock's disapproval, mother and son clung to one another and surrendered to an unrestrained display of blatant emotionalism.
"How long have you been here?" she asked when they finally, reluctantly tugged apart. "And how did you get in?"
"I arrived just this evening. Fortunately, you never changed the security combination for the back door. I simply crawled into a quiet spot and waited out the end of your party."
"It would be more accurately called an official function than a party," Spock observed. "However, the unaltered code was intentional."
"We hoped you'd use it again someday. And now you have."
"And now I have," Jarrod repeated. Slowly, his expression became more serious. "Father, I am aware that Starfleet has expressed a desire to confer with me in an official capacity. It is my intention to turn myself in for voluntary arrest once I have had an opportunity to visit with my sisters. I would ask that you give me a few hours tomorrow before you contact Captain Taylor...or whoever has taken charge of my case since I left."
Zarabeth took his hand. "You don't need to worry about that anymore. Therov was captured almost two years ago, turned in by his own people when he tried to stir up trouble among the Andorians. Michaela - and it's Commodore Taylor now, by the way - finally managed to close the case against you."
"I'm free? They don't even wish to question me?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Captain Taylor always would do anything for you, Mother."
"Nonsense. She did it for you. Besides, the people in charge of such things decided that you were more Therov's victim than his confederate. And it was because of you that no one was injured at the Terraforming conference. We wanted to tell you all this a long time ago, but we had no way to contact you."
"I know," he said quietly. "I've purposely stayed beyond the reach of news. There are many things I need to catch up on. For example, that boy I saw earlier- is he my brother?" Despite an obvious effort, he could not keep a note of hurt from his voice.
"Yes. He's named for your father, but we call him Kai. Actually it's what he chooses to call himself. It sort of stuck."
"He is my replacement, then."
"Jarrod! Of course not!"
"Then he does not occupy my old room?"
"Well, yes, but - "
"After the third year of your absence, it became necessary to make more efficient use of that particular space," Spock broke in firmly. "Lidia has retained her own room, but Adonia is currently away at Starfleet Academy. You may use hers pending other arrangements."
"Adonia is at Starfleet?" Jarrod's cheeks flushed. He shook his head angrily. "Actually, it won't be necessary for you to put me up. I traveled here with a friend, and the two of us have taken rooms in the city."
His parents exchanged wondering looks. "You've brought someone with you?" Zarabeth asked with obvious surprise.
"Yes. For nearly a year, I have been helping to build and establish a Federation colony on a small planet known as Gamma Aurelius. The people there, and one in particular, offered me a degree of acceptance I have found nowhere else. In fact, it was she who convinced me to return and settle things here." Briefly, he ducked out of the room and motioned to someone waiting just outside the door. "Leila?"
Moments later, Leila stood beside him, facing his parents. Not for the first time when it came to dealing with his father, Jarrod found himself puzzled. When he had shown himself after an absence of five long years, Spock had seemed only mildly, and distantly, surprised. For some reason, the sight of Leila Kalomi left him in a state of utter astonishment.
- - -
After a sleepless half-night in their adjoining rented rooms, the two of them returned to find Spock waiting in the entry hall. His Vulcan demeanor was firmly in place again, Jarrod noticed.
"Your mother and Lidia are waiting for you inside," Spock informed him without preamble. "Miss Kalomi, I would like to speak to you in my study."
She followed him without argument or the slightest show of anxiety-not the usual reaction his father inspired among strangers, Jarrod thought as he hesitantly set off in the opposite direction.
"Is this a formal inquiry, Ambassador?" she asked as he directed her to a seat facing his desk.
"If you wish to think of it that way."
"Perhaps I'll reserve judgment until our conversation is underway."
"As you wish." Settling into his own high-backed chair, he steepled his fingers and regarded her warily. "I shall begin by thanking you for convincing Jarrod to return to Amphitrite. His absence has long been a source of great distress to my wife."
"Yes, I can imagine. But not to you?"
Not to her surprise, he declined to answer. Instead, he parried her question with one of his own.
"Tell me how you came to be acquainted with my son."
"It was very much as he said. He became a member of our colony, and he and I became friends. At first, I had no idea who he was. Then, gradually, the details began to emerge. I must admit that even before he mentioned your name, I knew he was your son. Maybe that's because I'd so often imagined what our own son might have been like. He wasn't far different from what I'd envisioned."
"I see." He averted his eyes. "Then I may assume you have become a kind of maternal figure to him during his absence from home. Commendable, considering his age and occasional want of judgment."
"No, it wasn't-and isn't-really like that, either. Perhaps in some sense I did remind him of his mother. He spoke of her often. More than he spoke of you, in fact."
"Then he is unaware of our previous connection."
"There never seemed to be a time, or a way, to tell him. I take it you've said nothing to your wife, either."
"If she-or either of them-should ask, I cannot mislead them. However, I have not decided it whether will become necessary to offer the information freely."
"How would they even think to ask? It's so outrageously unlikely-assuming that you and I don't exchange any indiscreet comments or looks."
"Agreed. And, since that is highly unlikely to occur, our present concern may in fact be groundless."
"I'm glad you're so confident about that." Leila sighed. "I really did want his return to be a happy occasion for both sides."
"If that is true, your intentions would appear to contradict your actions. As an emotional being yourself, you must have realized that coming here while concealing your true identity could produce an unfortunate result."
"I haven't concealed my identity from anyone-only certain details of my history. With that one exception, your son knows everything about me. As for my coming here, even if the others did know, what is the harm in my visiting a friend I haven't seen in more than thirty years? I would think your diplomatic training impressed upon you the value of maintaining as many long-term social connections as possible."
"Then I see no reason not to reveal our the circumstances of our previous acquaintance at once."
She studied the edge of his desk. "If that is what you intend to do, I have no means of stopping you. However, I might remind you of what you said only a few minutes ago. Your son is both young and impulsive. Do you really want to put him in the position of resenting us both when he hasn't even been home for a full day yet?" When he didn't answer, she pressed on. "Besides, why do you insist on seeing this as all my doing? Obviously you've never mentioned me either, or my name would have been familiar to both of them."
"There seemed no need."
"So why can't I simply lay claim to the same defense? Let's face it, Spock, we don't have much choice but to carry on as if we're strangers to one another, at least for now. If circumstances change, we'll just have to come up with another way out."
"The feasibility of the strategy you suggest rather depends on how long you plan to stay here. May I inquire...?"
"For the moment, I've left my work on Gamma Aurelius in other hands. However, I will have to get back there within the space of a few weeks. Whether Jarrod decides to return with me is another question entirely."
She could tell by the way his mouth narrowed that he could come up with no less volatile solution.
"It wouldn't really be a lie, anyhow. The last time we saw each other, we really were different people, living vastly different lives. The things we spoke of then would be meaningless today."
"Perhaps so."
He agreed a bit too quickly and easily for her comfort, though she was careful not to let her disappointment show. "Why don't we put it in the best possible light? It will be like reenacting a chapter from our past. Not everyone gets the chance to start fresh."
"That may be for the best. There are those who would be unable to accept that the outcome of such a reenactment must be different."
"Then I seen we are complete agreement."
And they were, she decided as she got up to leave the room. He was as literally minded as ever, leaving the nuances of interpretation to her.
- - -
While Lidia and Kai dawdled over their morning meal, Zarabeth took Jarrod into the sitting room and played Adonia's latest hololetter from Starfleet Academy for him. She looked graceful and confident in her cadet's uniform, which seemed to fit her so much better than his had ever fit him. According to her narrative, she was making excellent progress in all subjects except, ironically enough, advanced conversational Vulcan. Midterms were another six weeks away, and after that, assuming she passed them, a short leave would be permissible.
"I hope you'll be able to see her then," his mother hinted. "She has never stopped asking about you."
Indeed, the hololetter closed with an inquiry about her missing brother, asking if any news had been received. Jarrod couldn't help but blush with guilt and affection.
"The last time I saw her, she was sobbing over Therov. I can hardly believe that is the same person. And, believe it or not, I'm glad she was able to succeed in Starfleet. Father must be thrilled."
"He is, though he'd never use that word."
"I suppose he didn't use it when my brother arrived, either."
"Of course not, though in that case, it seemed appropriate. They were certainly cut from the same genetic cloth-just as I've always believed you and I were."
"He is a very serious child," said Jarrod, glancing through the open door into the next room. His younger brother stared back, his expression never changing. "I thought he'd more curious about the brother he never knew he had."
"Now that is unfair, Jarrod." His mother's voice suddenly grew stern. "Of course he knew about you all along. We have never denied your existence to anyone."
"No doubt you used me as an example of what he should not become. Fortunately, it worked, and he will not disappoint you as I did."
Agitated, he made a move to get up, but she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back to face her again. "I can understand your resentment, even your jealousy. But did you expect us all to stop living because you had gone away? I'm sorry, but we didn't. I did think of you every morning, and again at night. But my life continued. So did your father's, and both your sisters'. What choice did we have?"
"I understand," he said coldly.
"Do you? Kai was a surprise to us, too. But we were glad to have him - maybe because he did remind us of you. But he was never intended to take your place."
"I guess I just didn't think things would change this much."
"Things change every day. It's inevitable. That doesn't mean we stopped missing you."
"I never did, either," Jarrod admitted. "Some nights, I wanted to come home so badly that I almost imagined I was here. I could see everything, even the shadows on the wall. I could smell the soil in the garden, the must in the boathouse."
"That's what exile is like. I could have told you, if you'd asked before you left."
"I was a coward. I couldn't face prison. And I knew what it would do to you."
"All right. Let's not speak of that again. You're home now- for however long - and you're free. Whatever mistakes you made, you must have made up for them."
"I don't know. I hope so."
"Besides, we're not the only ones who are different now. It's not just that you're older. It's that you're-I don't know-more at ease with yourself. I suppose I can guess one reason for that." "You mean Leila." A bit of color crept back into his cheeks. "She's been a good friend to me. I can tell her most anything, and she seems to know what I should do."
"That might be because she's twice your age."
His head came up quickly, eyes flashing with that familiar rebelliousness. "You and she are of an age; do you consider yourself too old for me to talk to?"
"Don't be disrespectful." She tried not to smile.
"I'm sorry. About that and other things." He leaned over to kiss her. "I'm glad you were happy in my absence, Mother. Knowing I had made you miserable would have made my lot that much harder."
"I'm happier now that you're back."
"As am I. Do you mind if I go and find Leila? I feel guilty leaving her alone so long while Father interrogates her-about what, I can't imagine."
"My guess would be you. But go ahead. He'll have to forgive the interruption."
"I'll be back later to speak to Father. I just can't face that right now. And maybe we can respond to Adonia's hololetter together."
"All right. Let's plan on both."
To Jarrod's relief, he found that Leila was no longer with Spock, but had wandered back onto the terrace where the reception had been held. When he got closer, he noticed that she was talking to the teenaged Vulcan boy he had seen with his sister the night before. His mother had filled him in on that developing situation; he only hoped that Selyk would not insist on conversing with him in Vulcan. Like Adonia, he had neither an innate love nor talent for his ancestral tongue.
As he approached, Leila let drop the enormous leaf of a potted plant she'd been inspecting. As she drew her hand away, a high-pitching hum filled the air.
"Selyk was just showing me some of Amphitrite's more interesting flora," she explained. "I don't believe I've ever encountered sound-emitting blooms before."
"They're quite annoying during their pollinating season. Still, one has to admire their persistence. I suppose Selyk also told you that almost the entire planet was once covered in water. The Federation spent millions of credits drying it out and reshaping it into a base."
"Actually, I hadn't gotten that far." Selyk's dark eyes met his with startling intensity.
"I understand that you're my sister's friend."
"If that is how it pleases you to think of me. Certainly it is pleasing to my father-and yours, too, I suppose, or I would not be allowed on the premises as often as I am."
"Lidia's up and about, if you've come to call on her. Go ahead in."
"Actually, in this instance I came because Lidia sent me a message earlier this morning, telling me of your visit. It so happens that I have wanted to meet you for some time. I know what happened five years ago; Lidia told me some of it, and the rest I researched on my own. I must say that it took great courage to stand against the Federation the way you did."
"More like foolhardiness. I found that out the hard way."
The boy scowled. "Are you telling me that I would be a fool to share some of your-and Therov's-sentiments about the Federation?"
"You can entertain any sentiments you like, Selyk, whether they reflect mine or not. What matters are your actions, particularly where my sister is concerned. That was something I wish I'd said to Therov five years ago. You can be sure that I feel even more strongly about it today."
His answer displeased Selyk, who didn't bother to conceal his reaction. "I think I will just go and find Lidia," he said curtly. "Perhaps your mother will be good enough to offer me breakfast. I came away from my own house too quickly to replicate anything."
"He has quite a temper for a Vulcan," Leila observed after he'd stalked away.
"He's young yet. Besides, I can't throw stones in that direction, since plenty of people have said the same thing about me." He brushed his hand over the plant and made it murmur again. "If you like the plants here, I'd be happy to show you plenty others in their natural habitat. It would be good like to revisit some of my former haunts in daylight."
"Of course. That sounds lovely."
"Come on, then. We'll walk." They moved away from the house at a casual speed, though he glanced back more than once. "So what did my father want to quiz you about?"
"He wanted to know about your life in the colony. He's actually proud of your accomplishments, you know."
"He might have asked me directly, rather than gone to a perfect stranger for answers. I hope you didn't find his manner off-putting. Many people do."
"Not at all. He is direct, but that was to be expected. And don't worry, I didn't tell him anything but what could be directly verified through colony records. Everything you've ever told me remains between us."
"Still, the two of you had plenty to talk about. You were with him for some time."
"Perhaps that surprises you because you and he have so little to say to one another."
"I don't deny it." His eyes narrowed, but he let the matter drop.
- - -
The following day, Spock left for his office at the Embassy with some relief. Not surprisingly, his only private interview with his son had proven both abbreviated and unsatisfactory. They had agreed not to discuss the events of five years ago, inquiries about what Jarrod planned to do with his future seemed not merely premature, and any mention of Leila was potentially explosive. These restrictions left little else on which they could safely converse, so subsequent discourse was limited to his own general questions and Jarrod's monosyllabic responses. Clearly, true accord between them would require many more hours of negotiation.
At least Leila had not returned to the house with him, sending instead an excuse about conducting some business on behalf of their fellow colonists. This show of discretion prompted Spock's approval, though he doubted she would stay away indefinitely.
Meanwhile, the proposed Hrajillian entente demanded his attention. As an intensely private culture, they had submitted only a handful of cultural artifacts for Federation analysis. Among these were two books, primitively bound and reproduced, which his aides had been hard at work translating. Perusing both the originals and the appended notes, he was dismayed to find that the two volumes contained no factual exposition on Hrajillian customs or history, but were instead melodramatic fictions designed to entertain. Getting through them would be more of a chore than he had anticipated. Yet the interruption, when it came a few hours later, was one he did not welcome.
Leila had not come empty-handed; the box of disks she set on the desk in front of him had clearly traveled a long, arduous, and somewhat dusty path.
"Before I left Gamma Aurelius, some of the people there entrusted me with these data modules," she explained. "We're so far from the nearest Starbase that it can take months, even years, for them to get even the briefest messages to their loved ones. They were hoping that I could find a way to send them from here and expedite the process a little. I thought perhaps you knew where and how I could transmit them."
Spock extracted one of the cartridges, wiped its surface, and examined it doubtfully. "Your technology on Gamma Aurelius is out of date. Modules of this type became obsolete almost a decade ago."
"We use what we brought with us. Supply ships visit us infrequently, and they bring only necessities-or, occasionally, new colonists."
Having completed his inspection of the module, he returned it to the box and stood. "I believe these can be converted to meet current standards. I will see that the contents are properly and securely transmitted."
"If you don't mind, I'd like to have them back when you're finished. Perhaps any responses could be encoded back on the same disks. That way I can deliver the mail in person when I get home."
"Of course. I will attend to it directly."
"May I come with you?"
He did not object, so she followed him down a spacious corridor to a room devoted to just the sort of operation her assignment required. Leila watched, impressed, as Spock crossed the room and entrusted the box of disks to an aide. The younger man listened intently to his orders and then hurried off to fulfill them.
"You may be assured that the task will be carried out at once," Spock said when he returned to her side. "If and when there are further developments, I shall notify you."
"Thank you," she said. He remained silent, apparently waiting for her to leave, a fact she decided to ignore. "There was just one other thing. I wondered if you might accompany me to lunch. I'm not familiar with the city, and Jarrod is eating at home with his mother. Since I'm technically your guest, and we still have some issues to discuss, I don't think that's an unreasonable request."
Though he looked vaguely uncomfortable, Leila knew he could find no rational pretext for refusing. "Very well. If you are still vegetarian, I do know of an establishment that should suffice."
"As a matter of fact, I am. Please-lead the way."
He did. A short time later, they were settled at an outdoor table in the middle of a public square. With some amusement, Leila wondered if he had chosen this place to discourage even the possibility of an impulsive outburst on her side. If so, how little credit he gave her. The very young woman who had wept and begged for his love no longer existed. In her place was one who could control and direct her emotions as well as he could-maybe better. After all, she'd spent over thirty years preparing for this very conversation. He obviously had never even expected it to take place.
She decided not to waste any time; he respected directness, she knew, and she was in no mood for polite but irrelevant prattle.
"Why do you and your son not get along?" she asked as soon as the food had been served. Good, she thought; that certainly startled him.
"It is my understanding that rebelliousness is a normal attribute of adolescent psychology. Admittedly he has carried it a bit further than most children do."
"Do you think that's all it is? He told me once how you saved his life and his mother's. He said they could not have survived without you."
"They might have survived without my intervention. In what condition, and for how long, it is impossible to say. However, I am surprised that he spoke of such matters to you. He has seldom even alluded to them in my presence."
"As I told you, we are friends. That means we confide in one another. And now let me tell you something. It's just speculation, really. I believe that you think he is not sufficiently grateful for the life you have provided him."
"A lack of gratitude is also quite common among the young. I seem to recall my own father expressing similar disappointment in me."
"Well, I see it differently. I believe he feels that he is too much in your debt. After all, he tried to follow you into Starfleet, and failed. He tried to express himself through politics, and that literally blew up in his face. In my opinion, he is far more disappointed in himself than you could ever be in him."
"Your theory is interesting, but misguided. I have never demanded that he emulate me. It would not be possible, in any case. He is more Sarpeid than Vulcan, and always has been."
She nodded, sampling her food without really tasting it. "He is very like his mother. Maybe that's why I couldn't really dislike her, even though I expected to. She loves you madly-that would be obvious to any woman, but especially to me. And you can return that?"
"She does not ask me to be what I am not."
"And I did. You don't have to say it." A flicker of pain contorted her face for a moment. "Spock, do you remember when your ship evacuated our colony, and we had to travel with you for a few days, until you left us off at the Starbase?"
His brows sank on his forehead. She noticed that he had not touched his own plate. "Of course I remember."
"You avoided me while I was on board-I don't think we exchanged more than a dozen words after we left orbit. Still, whether you knew it or not, I kept track of where you went, what you did."
"I did know it."
"And did you know that I discovered where your quarters were, too? That last night we spent on the ship, I went there and stood outside your door for-well, I don't know, it felt like hours, though it probably was only a few minutes. I was trying to steel myself to summon you. When you answered, I was going to do everything in my power to talk my way inside. I was determined to spend the rest of that night with you. In the end, I didn't have the courage to try."
He stared at her, saying nothing and revealing less. Leila was no longer even feigning an interest in the meal.
"I can't help but wonder, even after all these years," she continued, her voice far less steady than she'd intended, "whether, if I'd been just a bit more reckless then, I might be the one living with you in that house today."
At a table beside them, a group of Terrans laughed boisterously at a joke one of them had just told. The clamor made it impossible for either of them to say anything more for several minutes.
"Leila," he finally said, "there is no point in speculating about such things."
"No? I think there is. For a very long time, I convinced myself that you didn't care for me because you couldn't care for anyone. Now I find that you have married for love-while I never married at all."
"Surely that was your own choice."
"Not really. How could I choose a man who could never begin to measure up to you? And none of them did, or ever will. I know I shouldn't feel that way, but I do. There's no way either to deny or change that fact."
His response caught her off guard. "Does that assessment include my son?"
"Your son is a different situation. He's part of you, after all." Unable to meet his eyes, she gazed down into the rapidly congealing mass of vegetables and sauces on her plate. "We'll have to tell them now. Things have gone too far, just as you warned me. There can be no more pretending."
"Agreed. I suggest we seize the earliest opportunity that presents itself."
"Tonight. I need some time to find the words. Jarrod will be very upset, even angry. Do you think your wife will understand?"
"She will understand that we tried to spare his pride. For that reason alone, I think she will excuse our actions."
"I suppose. Spock-please tell me the truth. Do you ever regret choosing her?"
He shook his head. "Never."
"Fair enough. My disappointment was your good fortune-or hers, I should say."
The conversation, like the meal, ended there, though it took a good deal longer for the bill to be delivered and then charged to Spock's standing account. In the meantime, they were forced to remain at the table, somewhat awkwardly avoiding each other.
Most intriguing, decided Sumarr, who had been watching for some time from his own table in the corner. His lunch, too, had grown cold and unappetizing, but he considered a few wilted greens a small price to pay. Clearly, he had stumbled across more than an ordinary social call or a chance meeting at mealtime. The expression on the woman's face-so transparent, these humans-told him far more than he needed to guess.
This information, he knew, could prove very useful when he presented his case to Selyk's potential father-in-law. A charge of hypocrisy, after all, could be an amazingly persuasive tool.