Chapter 4
"There's been a slight change of plan," Jarrod said when he arrived at her hotel room that evening as planned. He had taken great care with his appearance, she noticed; a new high-collared jacket, his normally mussed hair neatly brushed and flattened. "We're not having dinner here after all. Instead, we're going out."
His suggestion, like his appearance, caught her completely off-guard. "But I-had wanted to speak with you tonight," she faltered, staring.
"Don't worry about it. We can talk just fine at the Stargazer's Deck."
"What is that, exactly?"
"Only the most inspiring culinary experience Amphitrite has to offer. Suffice to say that I had to use a few of my diplomatic connections to get us a table."
Leila felt a stab of panic. "Your parents aren't joining us, are they?"
"Certainly not. So grab what you need and come on. Trust me, it will all be worth it."
"But I'm nowhere near as nicely dressed as you are. I'll be completely out of place."
"Don't be ridiculous. The only people we need to impress are one another." The genuine warmth in his smile filled her with fresh guilt. "And I'm always impressed by you."
Long before they had even tasted the food, she understood the Stargazer's appeal. The restaurant itself hovered high above the city, its patrons boarding shuttlecrafts in a docking bay that doubled as a fully functional lounge. On the way up, the view was spectacular; from their table it was nothing less than majestic. Wistfully Leila recalled her long-ago sojourn on a starship, gazing out at an endless night and feeling as alone as the most distant star.
The words slipped out before she could stop them. "Do your parents ever come here?"
Jarrod scowled. "I suppose they've been here a few times over the past twenty years. Why do you keep asking about them What does it matter?"
"I...I just didn't want to run into them tonight," she improvised.
"Well, that makes two of us. But don't worry. I can almost guarantee you that they'll be staying in so they can discuss my bad behavior, which is just another reason I don't want to be there."
"I'm sorry. Let's forget I mentioned it."
"All right," he said with obvious relief. "This makes a nice change from communal dining, don't you think? The lack of privacy is one thing I don't miss about Gamma Aurelius."
"Yes, this is lovely. Thank you for arranging it. I guess it will be hard to go back after enjoying so many luxuries."
Jarrod poked at his food. "To tell you the truth, I've also been thinking about how things will be when we get back. We've become good friends, haven't we?"
"Very good friends," she repeated uneasily. "You don't need to ask, surely."
"I do have a reason. You see, I wonder: is there any chance that one day, you and I could become more that that to one another?"
He met her eyes suddenly, his own gaze so intense that it startled her.
"I don't know," she said when she finally found her voice again. "I can't, and won't deny, what I feel for you. But you know there are obstacles."
"You're bringing up my parents again."
"Yes, though perhaps not in the way you think. And, in case you hadn't noticed, there is a significant age difference between us as well."
"Age difference be damned." Almost angrily he gulped what was left of his fruit drink. "You know what they say-youth is wasted on the young, not to mention overrated. Besides, if you want to be technical about it, I actually have a couple of millennia on you. I guess what I really want to know is if you will marry me."
"Oh, Jarrod." Sadly, Leila reached out and covered his hand with hers. "Ask me that again in half an hour-after I tell you something I should have long ago."
- - -
In the privacy of the house's smallest sitting room, Spock faced his wife of almost twenty-five years with a determined expression. She met his dark stare evenly, but with obvious perplexity.
"I feel like a junior embassy aide about to reprimanded for a clerical error."
Spock shook his head. "That is not a duty I would attend to personally."
"Oh. Of course not."
As oblivious to her teasing as always, he began again. "Zarabeth, you will agree that there are many aspects of your past we have never discussed. It is my opinion that such matters have little relevance to our present circumstances, and the inquiries themselves could cause you unnecessary pain."
"I suppose that's true. But you know I would gladly tell you anything."
"Of that I have no doubt. Nonetheless, I have deliberately refrained from asking."
"Well, what is it you want to know? I wouldn't blame you for questioning Jarrod's paternity, considering the way he's behaved, but you have to admit that the odds in your favor are overwhelming."
"Obviously I am not making my purpose clear. It is not that I require information from you. Rather, I wish to impart some."
She frowned at his unrelentingly serious tone. "Is it about Jarrod?"
"In a manner of speaking. More specifically, it concerns myself, when I was approximately the age he is now."
"And it's something I need to know about?"
"Yes. 'Someone' might be more accurate. The event in question lies more than three decades in the past, but unlike any given incident from your history, this one may have significant consequences for the present."
Zarabeth's eyes widened and then narrowed with sudden, terrible comprehension.
"You're talking about Leila."
"Yes. When I was still a junior officer with Starfleet, I briefly returned to the Academy as a condition of promotion. At the time, Miss Kalomi was completing a course of botanical study. Upon completing the program, she was to leave Earth with her fellow colonists; I was to return to active duty with Captain Pike. Before our departure, she implored me to resign my commission and accompany her instead. Naturally, I refused. Six years later, we met again. This time, conditions were a bit less . . . restrictive."
"I see." Her voice, like her expression, had grown dazed. "And then?"
"And then she departed for another colony. In the many years that followed, I have neither seen nor heard anything of her until now."
"I believe that. I also believe that you've never been very far from her mind, no matter how many years have passed."
Spock hesitated, then sighed. "Apparently that is so," he admitted.
"Does Jarrod know?"
"It is my understanding that Leila will tell him soon. Tonight, perhaps."
"So that's why you're telling me."
"It did seem best that the same information be simultaneously made available to everyone concerned. The initial discomfort should avert greater awkwardness later."
"Discomfort? That's the only reaction you expect from either of us?"
"I confess that I did anticipate a certain degree of irrationality to inform your response. I apologize if I have overestimated its influence."
Zarabeth's outrage grew slowly but visibly. "I'm glad you've thought this through so carefully, but have you even considered what this will do to your son? We just got him back-now you're doing your best to drive him away again."
"I fail to see why that should be the case."
"You mean you haven't realized that he admires Leila just as much as you did-probably more? Perhaps it's some kind of genetic encoding. And do you really believe that she found her way here by accident?"
"Have you any reason to doubt it?"
"I have no reason not to! What other interest could she have in a man half her age? What else do they have in common?"
"Perhaps it is you who underestimate his ability to accept what cannot be changed."
Arms crossed, she paced the room. "I can hardly believe I'm hearing this. Why do I feel that I'm the only one looking out for his best interests?"
"Zarabeth, he is no longer a child."
"But he's our child. You know, from the beginning, even before I knew her name, I sensed that Leila was hiding something. It never occurred to me that you would do the same."
- - -
From across the table, he stared at her, dumbfounded.
"You kept this from me all these months? Why, Leila?"
"I think it's too late for me to do anything but apologize. And I am sorry, Jarrod. You were always so secretive about your past. By the time the details became clear to me, something else did, too: the extent to which I truly do care about you."
"Only because I resemble my father."
"No, that isn't true. Anyhow, you don't, not to the extent you believe. I admit I do see a bit of him in you-your stubbornness, for example, but you have many other qualities that are entirely your own."
"I certainly do. Foolishness and gullibility are two that come to mind," he said miserably.
"I was thinking more of your kindness, your empathy, and most importantly, your ability to love. I wouldn't associate any of those with your father. As much as I once loved him, I never did."
"Then perhaps I simply inherited those from my mother. And are you suggesting that you no longer desire my father? Because the empathy you so generously attribute to me provides a different impression."
"Don't be absurd. It's been more than thirty years since I've even seen him. How could I feel anything except the most distant affection?"
"It doesn't strike me as impossible at all. I believe that if you went away, and I heard nothing of you for twice that long, you could still return to find my devotion to you unchanged. That is why it hurt so deeply to find out that you cannot return it."
"You're wrong." Her fingers found his again, clutching more tightly when he tried to pull away. "All right, I confess that when I first realized who you were, I sometimes looked at you and saw him. It was what I wanted at the time. But slowly, that changed. Now it's actually the other way around. When I do look carefully at him-and I have, I won't deny it-it's you I begin to think about. Not what's past, but what might happen in the future."
Jaw clenched, he pushed back from the table and stood up. "Please stay and finish; I'll take care of the charges before I leave. However, I think this dinner is at an end."
"Just the dinner?"
"I don't know."
Her first impulse, when he got up and strode quickly away from the table, was to go after him. Almost immediately she thought better of it. Nothing would be accomplished until he'd had time to reflect on things and hopefully calm down. Reluctantly, she forced herself to wait until the next shuttle arrived for a fresh complement of satisfied diners.
Back at the hotel, she went directly to Jarrod's room and buzzed his door-once, then again. Getting no answer, she was about to step away when she heard someone come up behind her.
"I've come to see my son," Zarabeth said. Her voice, like her face, was harder than stone.
"He doesn't seem to be here. At least, he's not answering the door."
"Is there any reason he wouldn't?"
Leila shrugged uneasily. "Maybe he needed some time by himself."
"I know the feeling."
"You came here alone?"
"It's been a long time since I was under house arrest. These days, I'm as capable of hailing ground transport as anyone else. Besides, the Embassy provides it whenever we want, and I thought it would do my husband a world of good to look after his children for one evening." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I suppose you were hoping to see him with me?"
Understanding dawned quickly but uncomfortably. "You and Spock must have talked earlier."
"I take it you and Jarrod did, too."
"Well-yes. I'm sorry things happened the way they did. My intention was never to offend you."
"That isn't really the word I would use."
"Frankly, I don't see why you should resent me, either. You're the one he chose. I admit that part of me hoped I would find him as indifferent to you as he once was to me, but that clearly is not the case. Does it really provoke you that much to discover that you weren't the first as well as the last?"
"What provokes me is that you have manipulated both me and my son. What did you think would happen once he discovered the real reason you've been so attentive to him? And you must have known he would."
"And if I had told him, all those months ago when he first settled on Gamma Aurelius, where do you think he would be now? Here, with me-and with you? Or running away from someone with an incentive to report his whereabouts to his father?"
As she'd expected, Zarabeth had no ready answer to that. "Actually, we don't know where he is at the moment, do we? I can promise you that we won't find him unless he wants to be found. He has plenty of hiding places. I still haven't discovered the ones he used as a child." Suddenly her scowl deepened. "Is my son in love with you?"
"How strange that you should ask about his feelings, and not my own."
"Maybe I don't trust you to tell me the truth. Or maybe I'm only asking what I know I can handle. To be perfectly honest, even I'm not sure which."
"Well, as far as Jarrod is concerned, you'll just have to ask him. The same goes for Spock."
"I might. Let me warn you, though, not to wait too impatiently for their answers. Whatever they might say, I won't give either of them up."
Leila sighed. "I haven't asked you to."
"Very well. I suppose I'll go home, then. If you see Jarrod, please tell him I was here."
"Of course."
Zarabeth felt Leila's eyes burning into her as she retreated to the lift. During the ride to the ground floor, some of her anger began to fade. It would have been easier to detest Leila if she'd been smug or even defensive; instead, she'd come across as resigned, almost defeated. Certainly she'd made one valid point: Jarrod would certainly have fled again, perhaps to a point so far away that his return would be not only delayed, but impossible. For the moment, at least, he was within arm's reach-and he hadn't been forced to travel alone.
Outside the hotel, the city streets were busy with tourists and off-duty Starfleet personnel sampling various evening entertainments. For good measure, but without any real expectation of success, Zarabeth scanned each group of passers-by for a glimpse of her son. He didn't appear, but another familiar figure did.
"You are well-met, madam." Sumarr had come from the general direction of the Embassy School. "I was about to seek conveyance to your house. Perhaps we might ride there together."
She gave him a quizzical look. "We can use Embassy transport, but I'm sorry-were we expecting you?"
"In a manner of speaking. I was on my way to collect my son. Lidia invited him to dinner."
"Oh, I see." Secretly, she was glad Spock had had an additional guest to deal with. The man had commanded a starship; surely feeding dinner to a group of youngsters was not beyond his capabilities. "I'm afraid I didn't spend the evening at home."
"How irregular." Sumarr stole a discreet glance at the hotel behind them. "Pleasant circumstances, I hope, called you away?"
"I would call it more a matter of duty."
"A constant care for someone in your position, no doubt. I can only express my admiration for the proficiency with which you manage your household. I trust your husband appreciates your talents equally."
The way he said it, casually but with a peculiar emphasis on selected syllables, made her pause and study him.
"I have no reason to doubt it."
"He would never tell you so in words, of course." Sumarr looked almost wistful for a moment. "It cannot be easy, sharing one's life with a Vulcan. Well I know how exasperating we can be."
Just then, the Embassy ground speeder pulled up and hovered patiently while they stepped inside and settled into their seats.
"Please don't be affronted by my directness," he said when she didn't reply. "I confide in you only as the friend I hope you consider me."
"I suppose there's some truth in what you say," she answered after a few minutes. "But I also know that life would be much harder without him. Maybe impossible."
His voice was honey-smooth with sympathy. "Of course."
Their attention drifted to the windows of the land-craft and soon became fixed on the blur of city lights around them.
"Isn't it interesting the way strangers come into our lives," Sumarr reflected, as though his attention had drifted far away. "Most of them create little more than a temporary ripple, some make a lasting impression, and a very few have the power to disrupt even the most tranquil aspects of our existence."
Uneasily, Zarabeth began to wonder if he was speaking strictly in the abstract. For some reason, his subtle interest in the hotel, to say nothing of his inquiries into more personal matters, suggested that his musings had a specific purpose. Whether his remark about strangers referred to Leila, himself, both of them, or neither, remained to be seen. For the moment, therefore, she said nothing.
Back at the house, they found that Spock had deputized Lidia, who was clearing the dinner table while in the next room, Kai was soundly trouncing Selyk at three-dimensional chess. When he saw his father enter, Selyk reached out and toppled his own king with a look of disgust.
"It is a lack of patience, not skill, that keeps you from winning," Sumarr chided him.
"I could easily have won," Selyk shot back. "I was simply indulging Lidia's brother-and besides, I knew you'd arrive at any moment."
His father, clearly disbelieving his explanation, occupied himself with his usual courtly farewells and promptly ushered the boy from the house. Frankly relieved at their departure, Zarabeth moved into the next room to help Lidia insert the dishes into the sonic cleaner and then replace them in the overhead bins.
"Did your father join you at the table?" she asked, attempting to sound casual.
"Briefly, but then he went to the study to continue his Hrajillian research. Some kind of summit with them tomorrow, apparently. That was some time ago. He probably wouldn't mind if you interrupted him just to say you were back."
"Not just yet."
"As you wish." Lidia eyed her mother suspiciously. "How strange that you and Selyk's father happened to encounter each other just as he was on his way here."
"Not really. Jarrod's hotel is quite near your school. Sumarr was probably attending-or giving-a night lecture. There were quite a few people about."
"And what did you talk about on the way over?"
"I can honestly say I'm not sure. Not you and Selyk, if that's what you're worried about."
"I find it hard to believe you would have much else in common."
"Well, young lady, perhaps you don't know as much as you think you do about either of us. If it comes to that, I don't really see what interests you about Selyk. His manners certainly leave much to be desired, especially for a Vulcan."
"It's true he isn't much like Father-but then I suppose Professor Sumarr isn't, either." Lidia raised a haughty brow and tossed the last dish into the cleaning slot. "And now I'm going up to my room. I've already let Kai humiliate me twice this evening, so I'd say it's your turn. See? He's already laying a trap for you, the little predator."
Together they glanced through the open doorway. Kai was still in front of the chessboard, moving the pieces from one level to the next and then replacing them in their original positions. Every few moments he would lean back and murmur to himself as if memorizing the configurations that pleased him most.
"What makes you so sure I can't beat him? The last time we played, I took one game and managed a stalemate on the next."
"Really, Mother." Lidia rolled her eyes. "Didn't you realize that he was just humoring you? Father is the only one who can outplay him, and that's likely enough to change one of these days. By all means, though, go ahead and take your chances. Good night."
After Lidia had gone, Zarabeth forced herself to walk into the next room. Her younger son looked up at her calmly, balancing a white chess piece in his left hand and a black one in his right.
"Would you care to play, Mother? Lidia's friend Selyk proved a most unsatisfactory opponent. I believe he even cheated after his third move."
Her first impulse was to refuse him gently, but his hopeful expression made her stop. A wave of affection for this highly serious child, whose ways were so strange and yet so undeniably familiar, suddenly lightened her mood.
"Very well. I'm too tired to play my best game tonight, but I promise you I won't cheat."
Kai nodded and began to arrange the pieces. "Those terms are acceptable."
If anything, she managed her side of the board with even less patience, and only slightly more efficiency, than Selyk had. Oddly enough, her rapidly decimated forces seemed to elude defeat again and again.
"Kai," she finally said, fixing him with a stern gaze, "are you letting me win?"
"I'm trying, Mother, but you're making it difficult."
"You don't have to do that. Besides, I thought you disapproved of cheating."
"Playing poorly is not the same as cheating. However, if you insist." Sighing, he released the pawn he'd about to move, chose his bishop instead, and easily set up a checkmate he put into effect on his next move. "May I go up to my room now?" he asked, squirming self-consciously.
"Yes. From now on, I want you to compete against me just as you would anyone else-including your father. Either that, or allow Lidia to beat you once in a while."
"Understood. You may expect a more difficult contest next time."
"I'll look forward to it." That was an exaggeration, certainly, but no doubt she could find an instructional book or disc somewhere in the house. After Kai had gone off to bed, she spent some time tinkering with the board, rearranging the pieces and scrutinizing those last few disastrous moves. One thing she was determined not to do was request instruction from Spock.
Eventually, the hour grew late and the cumulative effect of an exhausting day got the better of her concentration. After clearing away the chessboard and making the usual nighttime rounds of the house, she steeled herself and entered her own bedroom.
Spock was already there, leaning against the pillows with the bound Hrajillian volume and the translation device open on his lap. Though he looked up when she came in, she studiously ignored him and went directly into the washroom. By the time she returned in her nightclothes, with her hair done up in an angry knot, he'd closed the book and put it away. All the same, she took no notice, but arranged herself on the very edge of the mattress with her back to him.
"I considered spending the night in Adonia's room," she informed him stiffly, "but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep."
"That would rather defeat the purpose of going to bed at all."
"I'm glad you see it my way. Incidentally, you missed Sumarr. He came to collect his son while you were reading. We had an interesting conversation."
"On what subject?"
"I'm not sure, but I think he was giving me an alternative to forgiving you."
"I see. And will you take it?"
"I must admit, I was tempted to make you think so, at least for a while, But you know how anger is-it tends to flash and fade. Mine is no different from anyone else's."
"My observations would suggest that you are correct."
"So. . . how is your Hrajillian research going?"
"I find them most paradoxical. Despite their obvious intelligence, they are given to bursts of hyperemotionalism that border on the melodramatic. And, though no outsider would detect even the slightest cause for insecurity, they persist in viewing their own social position as highly unstable. Quite puzzling."
"In other words, the kind of people I'd feel very much at home with." Since she was still facing away from him, he couldn't see her biting back an amused smile. "Spock, what are we going to do about Jarrod?"
"Perhaps the wisest course would be to wait until his emotions follow their inevitable course-flash and fade, as you put it."
"His anger toward us-or toward you, I should say-probably will. When it comes to Leila, I have to admit that I'm not so sure. There's a sound in his voice when he talks about her, a certain expression that comes over his face. As much as I'd prefer to see her simply pack up her things and vanish from our lives, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. You might just end up with a closer connection to her than you ever thought possible."
He stopped and pondered this. Long before he had formulated any reasonable answer, he heard her breathing slow and deepen, signifying the onset of sleep. Later still, when his ultrasensitive auditory capabilities detected footsteps on the terrace, she had drifted off so completely that even his getting up failed to rouse her.
He wasn't in the least surprised to find Jarrod leaning over the stone rail, looking expensively attired but physically disheveled.
"It's true-I've spent most of the night indulging the Sarpeid side of my nature," he said calmly, not bothering to turn. "You know, it's true what Mother always says about our hot blood and passionate hearts. Please, don't bother to express your disapproval."
Spock folded his arms. "Even the most vigorous display of negative emotions will not undo events that transpired more than three decades ago."
"As it happens, I agree with you. Giving in to raw, blistering anger felt better for a while, but when it passed, everything was the same again."
"That is consistent with all known rational principles."
After a moment, Jarrod hooked one arm around the rail and swung fully around to stare at his father.
"Do you know what really would satisfy me? To be able to do something on my own for once, without being compared to you. I felt that way the entire time I was growing up here; it was even worse when I got to Starfleet. Finally I get to Gamma Aurelius, halfway across the sector, and even the woman I love would prefer to have you, though I spend every day trying to make her happy, while you haven't given her a single thought in over thirty years."
"That is not precisely accurate. My memories of Leila have surfaced from time to time, in spite of the fact that I do not speak of them."
"Oh?" Jarrod's brows shot up in a perfect imitation of his father. "Does Mother know that?"
"She does now."
"Well, I won't ask you about that. Just tell me she's not divorcing you. That would make my situation infinitely more difficult."
"Not to my knowledge."
Presently Jarrod's expression crumpled into a scowl again. "Father, I must ask you: did you never consider marrying Leila? After all, she spent six years pining for you the first time you met, and many more after that. I'm sure she would have accepted you as eagerly as Mother did."
"I believe it was clear to Leila, as it was to me, that obligations on both sides prevented any permanent arrangement between us. As for your second contention, it so happens that your mother refused my original proposal."
Jarrod suddenly became much more interested. "Really? I never knew that."
"Apparently, the manner in which I phrased my offer proved unacceptable to her. As I have often asserted, there is no accounting for the responses of emotional beings."
"So what happened?"
"I amended my words." Spock observed his son for a moment. "If I might proffer a suggestion."
"Sure, why not? You obviously know both of them better than I do."
"From what I infer, you are concerned that Miss Kalomi does not value you as an individual. Perhaps you might convey this information more efficiently by demonstrating your unique qualities instead of simply asserting that they exist."
Jarrod nodded grimly. "As opposed to complaining about you and then blaming her for not agreeing. Yes, I suppose there's some logic in that."
"I am gratified that you think so. Perhaps you are not entirely governed by your Sarpeid qualities after all."
"Speaking of that, hadn't you better go back in? Mother might think you were out here trysting with Leila. Anyhow, it is getting late-before long I'll be saying 'early.' Should I come back at a more reasonable hour? Just to visit-not to make demands."
"Your mother would welcome that. As would I."
"What about Leila? Is she also invited?"
"If the two of you would care to discuss your botanical work on Gamma Aurelius, I would not be averse to hearing about it. Miss Kalomi knows that I have always respected her as a scientist."
"In case she's forgotten, then, I'll let her know. Goodnight, Father."
Hoisting himself back over the rail, Jarrod casually dropped into the garden and slipped away among the shadows. Spock could only shake his head in discomfiture: even dressed in formal evening wear, his son preferred to clamber through the shrubs like a primate rather than choose a more conventional point of egress. Then again, as Jarrod himself had pointed out, to some extent his imprudent, iconoclastic behavior was a matter of genetics, not choice.
Ironically, the unpredictability of both his wife and his eldest son had become almost predictable to him. It was not logical, but by now it was familiar, and he had to admit that it kept his mind fresh. Besides, the more subdued natures of Lidia and Kai contributed a sense of balance to the household. That could, he decided, prove fortunate if Jarrod decided to return for an extended period. How Leila's presence would affect this same balance, should she choose to remain also, had yet to be determined.
Zarabeth was awake again when he returned to their room.
"You may reassure yourself on Jarrod's account," Spock informed her. "He is safe, and will return tomorrow to discuss the current situation."
"Thank you for talking to him. I'm sure he wasn't in the mood to listen, any more than I was."
Spock got back into bed and folded his hands over the blankets. "As I reminded you earlier, he is no longer a child. I believe we came to an understanding."
"I'm glad. Now I suppose we should do the same. Incidentally, did you tell Kai to let me win at chess?"
"I merely explained to him that certain concessions can ease the strain of coexisting with emotional beings. I did not suggest any specific application."
"Well, I put a stop to it, anyway. You probably meant well, but the only thing worse than being outwitted by smug little Vulcans is receiving their charity . . . or concessions, as you put it."
She slid back down under the covers, almost imperceptibly edging toward him.
"I need to know something else, too," she said after a few minutes. Clearly, she was not speaking of chess games any longer. "That you never see Leila when you look at me."
He spared her an offended look. "Although it is true that I am approaching my seventieth year, I am unaware that I suffer from any ocular impairment. I might also remind you that there is a substantial difference between being the first and being the only one."
Cautiously, he eased the knot out of her hair; when it finally came loose, Zarabeth shook it free and let the soft reddish wave settle loosely around her shoulders.
- - -
Thankfully, the fifth time Leila went to his hotel room, she found that he'd returned at last. Relief turned to apprehension when she saw his traveling bag open on the bed with various articles of clothing scattered around it.
"Is this how you react to every problem? Pack up and leave?"
Jarrod glared at her, arms folded. "It seems to work as well as anything."
"I doubt even you believe that. Your mother was here, by the way. She was worried about you, and so was I."
"I find that strangely appropriate. After all, you could have been my mother, had things been different for you all those years ago."
"But they didn't. You have a mother. Your father has a wife. And here I am, an entirely different person to the one I was then. Maybe I didn't even realize that until tonight."
"Well, I'm glad I helped you figure that out." Jaw clenched, he started to turn from her and head toward the window at the back of the room. Grasping his hand, she pulled him back.
"I take it you're not going to ask me that question again?"
"Just now, I don't know. I really don't."
"It's all right. I understand. Anyhow, you're probably too young to be a husband."
"Are we back to that age difference thing again? I told you, I don't care about that. You and I have other issues to work out."
"There's no denying that, it's true. But I still hope we can begin to sort through them together. I'd like you to come back to Gamma Aurelius-if not with me, then when you're ready. After all, we have our botanical samples to tend. You helped me graft them. It would be a shame if you weren't there when they sprouted."
"So if we can cultivate something together - and it grows - we'll be on the right track. Is that what you think?"
"Sort of. It would be a start, anyhow."
Pushing the travel bag and a heap of clothes to one side, he sat on the bed with a sigh. "I've been wondering . . . what would I have been like if I had been yours instead of hers?"
"I can almost guarantee you'd be a botanist, and a damn good one at that." Leila sat beside him, then moved a little closer when he didn't object. "And I wouldn't have allowed you to drop out of Starfleet. I'd have marched you back at phaserpoint."
Jarrod shrugged. "I guess my parents weren't especially strict with me, now that I look back on it. I must have tried their patience as much as they've tried mine."
"You probably can't help it. My scientific instincts tell me that you're carrying a pretty volatile blend of DNA. But you know, you are a little more Vulcan than you give yourself credit for."
He squinted at her. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, you were prepared to marry me before we'd even kissed. In anyone else, that might be considered extraordinarily rash. After all, what if you didn't like it?"
"It's safe to say that I probably would have. Besides, I'd thought of that. My original plan wasn't just to ask you to marry me. I was also going to invite you to share my hotel room tonight." Leila watched as he unsuccessfully tried to fight back a blush. "When the time came, I didn't quite have the nerve."
"Were you afraid I'd say no?"
The blush deepened. "I was almost more afraid you'd say yes. You see, Leila, I have to admit that I've never . . . well, maybe that's enough said."
"Never?" Her eyes widened in amazement.
Jarrod swallowed hard, painfully. "The women at Starfleet Academy were a little too serious for me. And since then, I just never had the time-or the inclination, until I met you."
"I see." They sat in silence for a while, Jarrod staring at the floor and Leila gazing straight ahead. Their mutual nervousness crackled between them like a current in the air.
"If it's any consolation," she said finally, "it's been a long time for me, too. A very long time."
"I won't ask you how my father fits into that particular chronology."
"That's a good thing, because I wouldn't answer you. Please, Jarrod, let go of that. I've had to. Your father obviously has. If my previous connection with him brought us together, isn't that all to the good?" Her fingers curled around his again and squeezed them. "It hurts me, too, to know that you're constantly comparing yourself to him. You are your own man, Jarrod. And you're a man I care about very much."
Slowly, he worked his hands free and trailed them upwards instead, past her wrists and then onto her forearms. "There's certainly one major difference between us," he murmured. "I can't say I'm sorry that my father let you go, for reasons that should be self-evident, but I don't plan to be as big a fool as he once was."
With that, gratefully, he put all thoughts of his parents out of his mind and gave Leila his full attention.
- - -
When Sumarr returned to the house the following evening, he registered obvious surprise at seeing Leila casually integrated with the others, obviously having stayed for dinner and then friendly conversation. Nonetheless, he did not waver from his purpose, but requested an immediate and private audience with Spock.
In the study, the two scrutinized each other with mutual and blatant mistrust.
"I will move directly to the point," Sumarr began. "I have recently become aware that it is my son's wish to be joined with your daughter, Lidia, when they come of suitable age. I have come to ask if you have any objections, and to make a formal inquiry into matters of dowry and contract."
"I shall save you some time in that case. Under no circumstances would I ever agree even to consider such a union."
"You seem most adamant. May I ask why?" "I have a number of reasons, none of which I consider myself obligated to explain to you. Perhaps it would suffice to say that joining you describe would have no validity as a Vulcan custom. After all, you and your son are Romulans."
For a moment, Sumarr looked as though he had forgotten to breathe. His fingers tightened on his chair arms, his brows climbed halfway up his narrow forehead, and the tip of his tongue skittered across his lower lip. Gradually, though, he seemed to regain control of himself.
"I admit I made a mistake about the K'aaroch bark; I looked it up when I returned home and cursed myself. But that was a minor slip. How did you know?"
"Simple observation, for the most part. Despite what I assume are cosmetic alterations to both yourself and your son, you both retain the essence of the Romulan constitution. Your son is disrespectful, anti-intellectual, and uncivilized. You, though you admittedly have a gift for teaching, are far too interested in matters that do not concern you. No Vulcan would have spoken to my wife as you did last night. Your only motivation was to benefit yourself, and that is also in keeping with what I know of Romulan behavior."
"Possibly I overstepped my bounds by involving myself in your-affairs, Ambassador." Relaxing, Sumarr leaned back and spread his lips in a wide smile. "However, I have always found it difficult not to speak my mind when I feel strongly about something. Who knows? There may even be genuine Vulcans who share the same failing."
"Thank you for not concocting a denial that would insult us both."
"There is no point; you are correct, and you know it. Will you give me the opportunity to explain?" When Spock nodded, Sumarr rose and began to pace the room. "It is true that these many years, my son and I have presented ourselves as Vulcans-though not without the knowledge and consent of a few key members of Starfleet."
"You are a defector, then."
"A defector of a very high order. On my homeworld, I attained a position of some eminence in our government. I was well satisfied with my career as well as my family, for I had a wife who was as devoted to me as yours is to you. I felt the same toward her. Unfortunately, my fellow council members were less interested in my happiness as they were my conformity. The punishment for my political transgressions was the assassination of my wife. My son would have been the next target; before that could happen, I escaped to what I hoped would be a more congenial atmosphere in which to raise him."
"That was when you contacted the Federation." Sumarr nodded. His jaw was clenched, his eyes brighter than usual. While he spoke, he clenched and unclenched a fist. "My instincts proved correct. In exchange for sensitive information about my former people, Starfleet was willing to furnish me with a new identity, even a vocation. Masquerading as a Vulcan was a natural choice, especially since I had entertained a lifelong interest in your planet's language and literature. Continuing my studies soon became a matter of survival, rather than amusement. Fortunately, I had incentive. Selyk-as I began to call him then-was the only thing I had left."
"I see." Spock followed his guest to his feet. His voice, along with his expression, had softened. "I sympathize with your dilemma. The choice to betray your people cannot have been easy."
"Actually, it was surprisingly easy, once I saw how little regard my own people had for me. Were I ever to return, I would instantly be killed as a traitor. So you see, I am no longer a Romulan in any genuine sense of the word. Nor is my son too much a Romulan to become engaged to your daughter. After all, what pureblooded Vulcan would have either of them? You are half human, and your wife has no home planet at all. It seems to me that a match between them would resolve many issues that disturb us both."
"My decision on that score is unchanged. You are mistaken if you think that I can or would order Lidia into any such arrangement. Personal experience suggests that arranged marriages are less than desirable in some situations."
Sumarr's smile returned. "Then trouble yourself no further on that score. It is my understanding that your daughter is in favor of the match. She and my son have apparently reached a certain...understanding."
"That is of no consequence. She is young and will almost certainly change her mind."
"My son is also of tender years just yet. But is that not to our advantage? Perhaps one day, Spock, our two worlds, so long at odds, will find their way back to one another. Perhaps my son and your daughter will pave the way. And if, or when, that time comes, you and I may not be too old to do our parts."
Seeing that Spock remained unmoved, he laughed-a jarring, discordant sound, in his host's opinion.
"But let us speak of it no further just now," Sumarr decided cheerfully. "You are anxious to rejoin your family, and your charming visitor. And, as I said before, I have lectures to prepare."
- - - -
Coming this winter: Part 5
"There's been a slight change of plan," Jarrod said when he arrived at her hotel room that evening as planned. He had taken great care with his appearance, she noticed; a new high-collared jacket, his normally mussed hair neatly brushed and flattened. "We're not having dinner here after all. Instead, we're going out."
His suggestion, like his appearance, caught her completely off-guard. "But I-had wanted to speak with you tonight," she faltered, staring.
"Don't worry about it. We can talk just fine at the Stargazer's Deck."
"What is that, exactly?"
"Only the most inspiring culinary experience Amphitrite has to offer. Suffice to say that I had to use a few of my diplomatic connections to get us a table."
Leila felt a stab of panic. "Your parents aren't joining us, are they?"
"Certainly not. So grab what you need and come on. Trust me, it will all be worth it."
"But I'm nowhere near as nicely dressed as you are. I'll be completely out of place."
"Don't be ridiculous. The only people we need to impress are one another." The genuine warmth in his smile filled her with fresh guilt. "And I'm always impressed by you."
Long before they had even tasted the food, she understood the Stargazer's appeal. The restaurant itself hovered high above the city, its patrons boarding shuttlecrafts in a docking bay that doubled as a fully functional lounge. On the way up, the view was spectacular; from their table it was nothing less than majestic. Wistfully Leila recalled her long-ago sojourn on a starship, gazing out at an endless night and feeling as alone as the most distant star.
The words slipped out before she could stop them. "Do your parents ever come here?"
Jarrod scowled. "I suppose they've been here a few times over the past twenty years. Why do you keep asking about them What does it matter?"
"I...I just didn't want to run into them tonight," she improvised.
"Well, that makes two of us. But don't worry. I can almost guarantee you that they'll be staying in so they can discuss my bad behavior, which is just another reason I don't want to be there."
"I'm sorry. Let's forget I mentioned it."
"All right," he said with obvious relief. "This makes a nice change from communal dining, don't you think? The lack of privacy is one thing I don't miss about Gamma Aurelius."
"Yes, this is lovely. Thank you for arranging it. I guess it will be hard to go back after enjoying so many luxuries."
Jarrod poked at his food. "To tell you the truth, I've also been thinking about how things will be when we get back. We've become good friends, haven't we?"
"Very good friends," she repeated uneasily. "You don't need to ask, surely."
"I do have a reason. You see, I wonder: is there any chance that one day, you and I could become more that that to one another?"
He met her eyes suddenly, his own gaze so intense that it startled her.
"I don't know," she said when she finally found her voice again. "I can't, and won't deny, what I feel for you. But you know there are obstacles."
"You're bringing up my parents again."
"Yes, though perhaps not in the way you think. And, in case you hadn't noticed, there is a significant age difference between us as well."
"Age difference be damned." Almost angrily he gulped what was left of his fruit drink. "You know what they say-youth is wasted on the young, not to mention overrated. Besides, if you want to be technical about it, I actually have a couple of millennia on you. I guess what I really want to know is if you will marry me."
"Oh, Jarrod." Sadly, Leila reached out and covered his hand with hers. "Ask me that again in half an hour-after I tell you something I should have long ago."
- - -
In the privacy of the house's smallest sitting room, Spock faced his wife of almost twenty-five years with a determined expression. She met his dark stare evenly, but with obvious perplexity.
"I feel like a junior embassy aide about to reprimanded for a clerical error."
Spock shook his head. "That is not a duty I would attend to personally."
"Oh. Of course not."
As oblivious to her teasing as always, he began again. "Zarabeth, you will agree that there are many aspects of your past we have never discussed. It is my opinion that such matters have little relevance to our present circumstances, and the inquiries themselves could cause you unnecessary pain."
"I suppose that's true. But you know I would gladly tell you anything."
"Of that I have no doubt. Nonetheless, I have deliberately refrained from asking."
"Well, what is it you want to know? I wouldn't blame you for questioning Jarrod's paternity, considering the way he's behaved, but you have to admit that the odds in your favor are overwhelming."
"Obviously I am not making my purpose clear. It is not that I require information from you. Rather, I wish to impart some."
She frowned at his unrelentingly serious tone. "Is it about Jarrod?"
"In a manner of speaking. More specifically, it concerns myself, when I was approximately the age he is now."
"And it's something I need to know about?"
"Yes. 'Someone' might be more accurate. The event in question lies more than three decades in the past, but unlike any given incident from your history, this one may have significant consequences for the present."
Zarabeth's eyes widened and then narrowed with sudden, terrible comprehension.
"You're talking about Leila."
"Yes. When I was still a junior officer with Starfleet, I briefly returned to the Academy as a condition of promotion. At the time, Miss Kalomi was completing a course of botanical study. Upon completing the program, she was to leave Earth with her fellow colonists; I was to return to active duty with Captain Pike. Before our departure, she implored me to resign my commission and accompany her instead. Naturally, I refused. Six years later, we met again. This time, conditions were a bit less . . . restrictive."
"I see." Her voice, like her expression, had grown dazed. "And then?"
"And then she departed for another colony. In the many years that followed, I have neither seen nor heard anything of her until now."
"I believe that. I also believe that you've never been very far from her mind, no matter how many years have passed."
Spock hesitated, then sighed. "Apparently that is so," he admitted.
"Does Jarrod know?"
"It is my understanding that Leila will tell him soon. Tonight, perhaps."
"So that's why you're telling me."
"It did seem best that the same information be simultaneously made available to everyone concerned. The initial discomfort should avert greater awkwardness later."
"Discomfort? That's the only reaction you expect from either of us?"
"I confess that I did anticipate a certain degree of irrationality to inform your response. I apologize if I have overestimated its influence."
Zarabeth's outrage grew slowly but visibly. "I'm glad you've thought this through so carefully, but have you even considered what this will do to your son? We just got him back-now you're doing your best to drive him away again."
"I fail to see why that should be the case."
"You mean you haven't realized that he admires Leila just as much as you did-probably more? Perhaps it's some kind of genetic encoding. And do you really believe that she found her way here by accident?"
"Have you any reason to doubt it?"
"I have no reason not to! What other interest could she have in a man half her age? What else do they have in common?"
"Perhaps it is you who underestimate his ability to accept what cannot be changed."
Arms crossed, she paced the room. "I can hardly believe I'm hearing this. Why do I feel that I'm the only one looking out for his best interests?"
"Zarabeth, he is no longer a child."
"But he's our child. You know, from the beginning, even before I knew her name, I sensed that Leila was hiding something. It never occurred to me that you would do the same."
- - -
From across the table, he stared at her, dumbfounded.
"You kept this from me all these months? Why, Leila?"
"I think it's too late for me to do anything but apologize. And I am sorry, Jarrod. You were always so secretive about your past. By the time the details became clear to me, something else did, too: the extent to which I truly do care about you."
"Only because I resemble my father."
"No, that isn't true. Anyhow, you don't, not to the extent you believe. I admit I do see a bit of him in you-your stubbornness, for example, but you have many other qualities that are entirely your own."
"I certainly do. Foolishness and gullibility are two that come to mind," he said miserably.
"I was thinking more of your kindness, your empathy, and most importantly, your ability to love. I wouldn't associate any of those with your father. As much as I once loved him, I never did."
"Then perhaps I simply inherited those from my mother. And are you suggesting that you no longer desire my father? Because the empathy you so generously attribute to me provides a different impression."
"Don't be absurd. It's been more than thirty years since I've even seen him. How could I feel anything except the most distant affection?"
"It doesn't strike me as impossible at all. I believe that if you went away, and I heard nothing of you for twice that long, you could still return to find my devotion to you unchanged. That is why it hurt so deeply to find out that you cannot return it."
"You're wrong." Her fingers found his again, clutching more tightly when he tried to pull away. "All right, I confess that when I first realized who you were, I sometimes looked at you and saw him. It was what I wanted at the time. But slowly, that changed. Now it's actually the other way around. When I do look carefully at him-and I have, I won't deny it-it's you I begin to think about. Not what's past, but what might happen in the future."
Jaw clenched, he pushed back from the table and stood up. "Please stay and finish; I'll take care of the charges before I leave. However, I think this dinner is at an end."
"Just the dinner?"
"I don't know."
Her first impulse, when he got up and strode quickly away from the table, was to go after him. Almost immediately she thought better of it. Nothing would be accomplished until he'd had time to reflect on things and hopefully calm down. Reluctantly, she forced herself to wait until the next shuttle arrived for a fresh complement of satisfied diners.
Back at the hotel, she went directly to Jarrod's room and buzzed his door-once, then again. Getting no answer, she was about to step away when she heard someone come up behind her.
"I've come to see my son," Zarabeth said. Her voice, like her face, was harder than stone.
"He doesn't seem to be here. At least, he's not answering the door."
"Is there any reason he wouldn't?"
Leila shrugged uneasily. "Maybe he needed some time by himself."
"I know the feeling."
"You came here alone?"
"It's been a long time since I was under house arrest. These days, I'm as capable of hailing ground transport as anyone else. Besides, the Embassy provides it whenever we want, and I thought it would do my husband a world of good to look after his children for one evening." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I suppose you were hoping to see him with me?"
Understanding dawned quickly but uncomfortably. "You and Spock must have talked earlier."
"I take it you and Jarrod did, too."
"Well-yes. I'm sorry things happened the way they did. My intention was never to offend you."
"That isn't really the word I would use."
"Frankly, I don't see why you should resent me, either. You're the one he chose. I admit that part of me hoped I would find him as indifferent to you as he once was to me, but that clearly is not the case. Does it really provoke you that much to discover that you weren't the first as well as the last?"
"What provokes me is that you have manipulated both me and my son. What did you think would happen once he discovered the real reason you've been so attentive to him? And you must have known he would."
"And if I had told him, all those months ago when he first settled on Gamma Aurelius, where do you think he would be now? Here, with me-and with you? Or running away from someone with an incentive to report his whereabouts to his father?"
As she'd expected, Zarabeth had no ready answer to that. "Actually, we don't know where he is at the moment, do we? I can promise you that we won't find him unless he wants to be found. He has plenty of hiding places. I still haven't discovered the ones he used as a child." Suddenly her scowl deepened. "Is my son in love with you?"
"How strange that you should ask about his feelings, and not my own."
"Maybe I don't trust you to tell me the truth. Or maybe I'm only asking what I know I can handle. To be perfectly honest, even I'm not sure which."
"Well, as far as Jarrod is concerned, you'll just have to ask him. The same goes for Spock."
"I might. Let me warn you, though, not to wait too impatiently for their answers. Whatever they might say, I won't give either of them up."
Leila sighed. "I haven't asked you to."
"Very well. I suppose I'll go home, then. If you see Jarrod, please tell him I was here."
"Of course."
Zarabeth felt Leila's eyes burning into her as she retreated to the lift. During the ride to the ground floor, some of her anger began to fade. It would have been easier to detest Leila if she'd been smug or even defensive; instead, she'd come across as resigned, almost defeated. Certainly she'd made one valid point: Jarrod would certainly have fled again, perhaps to a point so far away that his return would be not only delayed, but impossible. For the moment, at least, he was within arm's reach-and he hadn't been forced to travel alone.
Outside the hotel, the city streets were busy with tourists and off-duty Starfleet personnel sampling various evening entertainments. For good measure, but without any real expectation of success, Zarabeth scanned each group of passers-by for a glimpse of her son. He didn't appear, but another familiar figure did.
"You are well-met, madam." Sumarr had come from the general direction of the Embassy School. "I was about to seek conveyance to your house. Perhaps we might ride there together."
She gave him a quizzical look. "We can use Embassy transport, but I'm sorry-were we expecting you?"
"In a manner of speaking. I was on my way to collect my son. Lidia invited him to dinner."
"Oh, I see." Secretly, she was glad Spock had had an additional guest to deal with. The man had commanded a starship; surely feeding dinner to a group of youngsters was not beyond his capabilities. "I'm afraid I didn't spend the evening at home."
"How irregular." Sumarr stole a discreet glance at the hotel behind them. "Pleasant circumstances, I hope, called you away?"
"I would call it more a matter of duty."
"A constant care for someone in your position, no doubt. I can only express my admiration for the proficiency with which you manage your household. I trust your husband appreciates your talents equally."
The way he said it, casually but with a peculiar emphasis on selected syllables, made her pause and study him.
"I have no reason to doubt it."
"He would never tell you so in words, of course." Sumarr looked almost wistful for a moment. "It cannot be easy, sharing one's life with a Vulcan. Well I know how exasperating we can be."
Just then, the Embassy ground speeder pulled up and hovered patiently while they stepped inside and settled into their seats.
"Please don't be affronted by my directness," he said when she didn't reply. "I confide in you only as the friend I hope you consider me."
"I suppose there's some truth in what you say," she answered after a few minutes. "But I also know that life would be much harder without him. Maybe impossible."
His voice was honey-smooth with sympathy. "Of course."
Their attention drifted to the windows of the land-craft and soon became fixed on the blur of city lights around them.
"Isn't it interesting the way strangers come into our lives," Sumarr reflected, as though his attention had drifted far away. "Most of them create little more than a temporary ripple, some make a lasting impression, and a very few have the power to disrupt even the most tranquil aspects of our existence."
Uneasily, Zarabeth began to wonder if he was speaking strictly in the abstract. For some reason, his subtle interest in the hotel, to say nothing of his inquiries into more personal matters, suggested that his musings had a specific purpose. Whether his remark about strangers referred to Leila, himself, both of them, or neither, remained to be seen. For the moment, therefore, she said nothing.
Back at the house, they found that Spock had deputized Lidia, who was clearing the dinner table while in the next room, Kai was soundly trouncing Selyk at three-dimensional chess. When he saw his father enter, Selyk reached out and toppled his own king with a look of disgust.
"It is a lack of patience, not skill, that keeps you from winning," Sumarr chided him.
"I could easily have won," Selyk shot back. "I was simply indulging Lidia's brother-and besides, I knew you'd arrive at any moment."
His father, clearly disbelieving his explanation, occupied himself with his usual courtly farewells and promptly ushered the boy from the house. Frankly relieved at their departure, Zarabeth moved into the next room to help Lidia insert the dishes into the sonic cleaner and then replace them in the overhead bins.
"Did your father join you at the table?" she asked, attempting to sound casual.
"Briefly, but then he went to the study to continue his Hrajillian research. Some kind of summit with them tomorrow, apparently. That was some time ago. He probably wouldn't mind if you interrupted him just to say you were back."
"Not just yet."
"As you wish." Lidia eyed her mother suspiciously. "How strange that you and Selyk's father happened to encounter each other just as he was on his way here."
"Not really. Jarrod's hotel is quite near your school. Sumarr was probably attending-or giving-a night lecture. There were quite a few people about."
"And what did you talk about on the way over?"
"I can honestly say I'm not sure. Not you and Selyk, if that's what you're worried about."
"I find it hard to believe you would have much else in common."
"Well, young lady, perhaps you don't know as much as you think you do about either of us. If it comes to that, I don't really see what interests you about Selyk. His manners certainly leave much to be desired, especially for a Vulcan."
"It's true he isn't much like Father-but then I suppose Professor Sumarr isn't, either." Lidia raised a haughty brow and tossed the last dish into the cleaning slot. "And now I'm going up to my room. I've already let Kai humiliate me twice this evening, so I'd say it's your turn. See? He's already laying a trap for you, the little predator."
Together they glanced through the open doorway. Kai was still in front of the chessboard, moving the pieces from one level to the next and then replacing them in their original positions. Every few moments he would lean back and murmur to himself as if memorizing the configurations that pleased him most.
"What makes you so sure I can't beat him? The last time we played, I took one game and managed a stalemate on the next."
"Really, Mother." Lidia rolled her eyes. "Didn't you realize that he was just humoring you? Father is the only one who can outplay him, and that's likely enough to change one of these days. By all means, though, go ahead and take your chances. Good night."
After Lidia had gone, Zarabeth forced herself to walk into the next room. Her younger son looked up at her calmly, balancing a white chess piece in his left hand and a black one in his right.
"Would you care to play, Mother? Lidia's friend Selyk proved a most unsatisfactory opponent. I believe he even cheated after his third move."
Her first impulse was to refuse him gently, but his hopeful expression made her stop. A wave of affection for this highly serious child, whose ways were so strange and yet so undeniably familiar, suddenly lightened her mood.
"Very well. I'm too tired to play my best game tonight, but I promise you I won't cheat."
Kai nodded and began to arrange the pieces. "Those terms are acceptable."
If anything, she managed her side of the board with even less patience, and only slightly more efficiency, than Selyk had. Oddly enough, her rapidly decimated forces seemed to elude defeat again and again.
"Kai," she finally said, fixing him with a stern gaze, "are you letting me win?"
"I'm trying, Mother, but you're making it difficult."
"You don't have to do that. Besides, I thought you disapproved of cheating."
"Playing poorly is not the same as cheating. However, if you insist." Sighing, he released the pawn he'd about to move, chose his bishop instead, and easily set up a checkmate he put into effect on his next move. "May I go up to my room now?" he asked, squirming self-consciously.
"Yes. From now on, I want you to compete against me just as you would anyone else-including your father. Either that, or allow Lidia to beat you once in a while."
"Understood. You may expect a more difficult contest next time."
"I'll look forward to it." That was an exaggeration, certainly, but no doubt she could find an instructional book or disc somewhere in the house. After Kai had gone off to bed, she spent some time tinkering with the board, rearranging the pieces and scrutinizing those last few disastrous moves. One thing she was determined not to do was request instruction from Spock.
Eventually, the hour grew late and the cumulative effect of an exhausting day got the better of her concentration. After clearing away the chessboard and making the usual nighttime rounds of the house, she steeled herself and entered her own bedroom.
Spock was already there, leaning against the pillows with the bound Hrajillian volume and the translation device open on his lap. Though he looked up when she came in, she studiously ignored him and went directly into the washroom. By the time she returned in her nightclothes, with her hair done up in an angry knot, he'd closed the book and put it away. All the same, she took no notice, but arranged herself on the very edge of the mattress with her back to him.
"I considered spending the night in Adonia's room," she informed him stiffly, "but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep."
"That would rather defeat the purpose of going to bed at all."
"I'm glad you see it my way. Incidentally, you missed Sumarr. He came to collect his son while you were reading. We had an interesting conversation."
"On what subject?"
"I'm not sure, but I think he was giving me an alternative to forgiving you."
"I see. And will you take it?"
"I must admit, I was tempted to make you think so, at least for a while, But you know how anger is-it tends to flash and fade. Mine is no different from anyone else's."
"My observations would suggest that you are correct."
"So. . . how is your Hrajillian research going?"
"I find them most paradoxical. Despite their obvious intelligence, they are given to bursts of hyperemotionalism that border on the melodramatic. And, though no outsider would detect even the slightest cause for insecurity, they persist in viewing their own social position as highly unstable. Quite puzzling."
"In other words, the kind of people I'd feel very much at home with." Since she was still facing away from him, he couldn't see her biting back an amused smile. "Spock, what are we going to do about Jarrod?"
"Perhaps the wisest course would be to wait until his emotions follow their inevitable course-flash and fade, as you put it."
"His anger toward us-or toward you, I should say-probably will. When it comes to Leila, I have to admit that I'm not so sure. There's a sound in his voice when he talks about her, a certain expression that comes over his face. As much as I'd prefer to see her simply pack up her things and vanish from our lives, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. You might just end up with a closer connection to her than you ever thought possible."
He stopped and pondered this. Long before he had formulated any reasonable answer, he heard her breathing slow and deepen, signifying the onset of sleep. Later still, when his ultrasensitive auditory capabilities detected footsteps on the terrace, she had drifted off so completely that even his getting up failed to rouse her.
He wasn't in the least surprised to find Jarrod leaning over the stone rail, looking expensively attired but physically disheveled.
"It's true-I've spent most of the night indulging the Sarpeid side of my nature," he said calmly, not bothering to turn. "You know, it's true what Mother always says about our hot blood and passionate hearts. Please, don't bother to express your disapproval."
Spock folded his arms. "Even the most vigorous display of negative emotions will not undo events that transpired more than three decades ago."
"As it happens, I agree with you. Giving in to raw, blistering anger felt better for a while, but when it passed, everything was the same again."
"That is consistent with all known rational principles."
After a moment, Jarrod hooked one arm around the rail and swung fully around to stare at his father.
"Do you know what really would satisfy me? To be able to do something on my own for once, without being compared to you. I felt that way the entire time I was growing up here; it was even worse when I got to Starfleet. Finally I get to Gamma Aurelius, halfway across the sector, and even the woman I love would prefer to have you, though I spend every day trying to make her happy, while you haven't given her a single thought in over thirty years."
"That is not precisely accurate. My memories of Leila have surfaced from time to time, in spite of the fact that I do not speak of them."
"Oh?" Jarrod's brows shot up in a perfect imitation of his father. "Does Mother know that?"
"She does now."
"Well, I won't ask you about that. Just tell me she's not divorcing you. That would make my situation infinitely more difficult."
"Not to my knowledge."
Presently Jarrod's expression crumpled into a scowl again. "Father, I must ask you: did you never consider marrying Leila? After all, she spent six years pining for you the first time you met, and many more after that. I'm sure she would have accepted you as eagerly as Mother did."
"I believe it was clear to Leila, as it was to me, that obligations on both sides prevented any permanent arrangement between us. As for your second contention, it so happens that your mother refused my original proposal."
Jarrod suddenly became much more interested. "Really? I never knew that."
"Apparently, the manner in which I phrased my offer proved unacceptable to her. As I have often asserted, there is no accounting for the responses of emotional beings."
"So what happened?"
"I amended my words." Spock observed his son for a moment. "If I might proffer a suggestion."
"Sure, why not? You obviously know both of them better than I do."
"From what I infer, you are concerned that Miss Kalomi does not value you as an individual. Perhaps you might convey this information more efficiently by demonstrating your unique qualities instead of simply asserting that they exist."
Jarrod nodded grimly. "As opposed to complaining about you and then blaming her for not agreeing. Yes, I suppose there's some logic in that."
"I am gratified that you think so. Perhaps you are not entirely governed by your Sarpeid qualities after all."
"Speaking of that, hadn't you better go back in? Mother might think you were out here trysting with Leila. Anyhow, it is getting late-before long I'll be saying 'early.' Should I come back at a more reasonable hour? Just to visit-not to make demands."
"Your mother would welcome that. As would I."
"What about Leila? Is she also invited?"
"If the two of you would care to discuss your botanical work on Gamma Aurelius, I would not be averse to hearing about it. Miss Kalomi knows that I have always respected her as a scientist."
"In case she's forgotten, then, I'll let her know. Goodnight, Father."
Hoisting himself back over the rail, Jarrod casually dropped into the garden and slipped away among the shadows. Spock could only shake his head in discomfiture: even dressed in formal evening wear, his son preferred to clamber through the shrubs like a primate rather than choose a more conventional point of egress. Then again, as Jarrod himself had pointed out, to some extent his imprudent, iconoclastic behavior was a matter of genetics, not choice.
Ironically, the unpredictability of both his wife and his eldest son had become almost predictable to him. It was not logical, but by now it was familiar, and he had to admit that it kept his mind fresh. Besides, the more subdued natures of Lidia and Kai contributed a sense of balance to the household. That could, he decided, prove fortunate if Jarrod decided to return for an extended period. How Leila's presence would affect this same balance, should she choose to remain also, had yet to be determined.
Zarabeth was awake again when he returned to their room.
"You may reassure yourself on Jarrod's account," Spock informed her. "He is safe, and will return tomorrow to discuss the current situation."
"Thank you for talking to him. I'm sure he wasn't in the mood to listen, any more than I was."
Spock got back into bed and folded his hands over the blankets. "As I reminded you earlier, he is no longer a child. I believe we came to an understanding."
"I'm glad. Now I suppose we should do the same. Incidentally, did you tell Kai to let me win at chess?"
"I merely explained to him that certain concessions can ease the strain of coexisting with emotional beings. I did not suggest any specific application."
"Well, I put a stop to it, anyway. You probably meant well, but the only thing worse than being outwitted by smug little Vulcans is receiving their charity . . . or concessions, as you put it."
She slid back down under the covers, almost imperceptibly edging toward him.
"I need to know something else, too," she said after a few minutes. Clearly, she was not speaking of chess games any longer. "That you never see Leila when you look at me."
He spared her an offended look. "Although it is true that I am approaching my seventieth year, I am unaware that I suffer from any ocular impairment. I might also remind you that there is a substantial difference between being the first and being the only one."
Cautiously, he eased the knot out of her hair; when it finally came loose, Zarabeth shook it free and let the soft reddish wave settle loosely around her shoulders.
- - -
Thankfully, the fifth time Leila went to his hotel room, she found that he'd returned at last. Relief turned to apprehension when she saw his traveling bag open on the bed with various articles of clothing scattered around it.
"Is this how you react to every problem? Pack up and leave?"
Jarrod glared at her, arms folded. "It seems to work as well as anything."
"I doubt even you believe that. Your mother was here, by the way. She was worried about you, and so was I."
"I find that strangely appropriate. After all, you could have been my mother, had things been different for you all those years ago."
"But they didn't. You have a mother. Your father has a wife. And here I am, an entirely different person to the one I was then. Maybe I didn't even realize that until tonight."
"Well, I'm glad I helped you figure that out." Jaw clenched, he started to turn from her and head toward the window at the back of the room. Grasping his hand, she pulled him back.
"I take it you're not going to ask me that question again?"
"Just now, I don't know. I really don't."
"It's all right. I understand. Anyhow, you're probably too young to be a husband."
"Are we back to that age difference thing again? I told you, I don't care about that. You and I have other issues to work out."
"There's no denying that, it's true. But I still hope we can begin to sort through them together. I'd like you to come back to Gamma Aurelius-if not with me, then when you're ready. After all, we have our botanical samples to tend. You helped me graft them. It would be a shame if you weren't there when they sprouted."
"So if we can cultivate something together - and it grows - we'll be on the right track. Is that what you think?"
"Sort of. It would be a start, anyhow."
Pushing the travel bag and a heap of clothes to one side, he sat on the bed with a sigh. "I've been wondering . . . what would I have been like if I had been yours instead of hers?"
"I can almost guarantee you'd be a botanist, and a damn good one at that." Leila sat beside him, then moved a little closer when he didn't object. "And I wouldn't have allowed you to drop out of Starfleet. I'd have marched you back at phaserpoint."
Jarrod shrugged. "I guess my parents weren't especially strict with me, now that I look back on it. I must have tried their patience as much as they've tried mine."
"You probably can't help it. My scientific instincts tell me that you're carrying a pretty volatile blend of DNA. But you know, you are a little more Vulcan than you give yourself credit for."
He squinted at her. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, you were prepared to marry me before we'd even kissed. In anyone else, that might be considered extraordinarily rash. After all, what if you didn't like it?"
"It's safe to say that I probably would have. Besides, I'd thought of that. My original plan wasn't just to ask you to marry me. I was also going to invite you to share my hotel room tonight." Leila watched as he unsuccessfully tried to fight back a blush. "When the time came, I didn't quite have the nerve."
"Were you afraid I'd say no?"
The blush deepened. "I was almost more afraid you'd say yes. You see, Leila, I have to admit that I've never . . . well, maybe that's enough said."
"Never?" Her eyes widened in amazement.
Jarrod swallowed hard, painfully. "The women at Starfleet Academy were a little too serious for me. And since then, I just never had the time-or the inclination, until I met you."
"I see." They sat in silence for a while, Jarrod staring at the floor and Leila gazing straight ahead. Their mutual nervousness crackled between them like a current in the air.
"If it's any consolation," she said finally, "it's been a long time for me, too. A very long time."
"I won't ask you how my father fits into that particular chronology."
"That's a good thing, because I wouldn't answer you. Please, Jarrod, let go of that. I've had to. Your father obviously has. If my previous connection with him brought us together, isn't that all to the good?" Her fingers curled around his again and squeezed them. "It hurts me, too, to know that you're constantly comparing yourself to him. You are your own man, Jarrod. And you're a man I care about very much."
Slowly, he worked his hands free and trailed them upwards instead, past her wrists and then onto her forearms. "There's certainly one major difference between us," he murmured. "I can't say I'm sorry that my father let you go, for reasons that should be self-evident, but I don't plan to be as big a fool as he once was."
With that, gratefully, he put all thoughts of his parents out of his mind and gave Leila his full attention.
- - -
When Sumarr returned to the house the following evening, he registered obvious surprise at seeing Leila casually integrated with the others, obviously having stayed for dinner and then friendly conversation. Nonetheless, he did not waver from his purpose, but requested an immediate and private audience with Spock.
In the study, the two scrutinized each other with mutual and blatant mistrust.
"I will move directly to the point," Sumarr began. "I have recently become aware that it is my son's wish to be joined with your daughter, Lidia, when they come of suitable age. I have come to ask if you have any objections, and to make a formal inquiry into matters of dowry and contract."
"I shall save you some time in that case. Under no circumstances would I ever agree even to consider such a union."
"You seem most adamant. May I ask why?" "I have a number of reasons, none of which I consider myself obligated to explain to you. Perhaps it would suffice to say that joining you describe would have no validity as a Vulcan custom. After all, you and your son are Romulans."
For a moment, Sumarr looked as though he had forgotten to breathe. His fingers tightened on his chair arms, his brows climbed halfway up his narrow forehead, and the tip of his tongue skittered across his lower lip. Gradually, though, he seemed to regain control of himself.
"I admit I made a mistake about the K'aaroch bark; I looked it up when I returned home and cursed myself. But that was a minor slip. How did you know?"
"Simple observation, for the most part. Despite what I assume are cosmetic alterations to both yourself and your son, you both retain the essence of the Romulan constitution. Your son is disrespectful, anti-intellectual, and uncivilized. You, though you admittedly have a gift for teaching, are far too interested in matters that do not concern you. No Vulcan would have spoken to my wife as you did last night. Your only motivation was to benefit yourself, and that is also in keeping with what I know of Romulan behavior."
"Possibly I overstepped my bounds by involving myself in your-affairs, Ambassador." Relaxing, Sumarr leaned back and spread his lips in a wide smile. "However, I have always found it difficult not to speak my mind when I feel strongly about something. Who knows? There may even be genuine Vulcans who share the same failing."
"Thank you for not concocting a denial that would insult us both."
"There is no point; you are correct, and you know it. Will you give me the opportunity to explain?" When Spock nodded, Sumarr rose and began to pace the room. "It is true that these many years, my son and I have presented ourselves as Vulcans-though not without the knowledge and consent of a few key members of Starfleet."
"You are a defector, then."
"A defector of a very high order. On my homeworld, I attained a position of some eminence in our government. I was well satisfied with my career as well as my family, for I had a wife who was as devoted to me as yours is to you. I felt the same toward her. Unfortunately, my fellow council members were less interested in my happiness as they were my conformity. The punishment for my political transgressions was the assassination of my wife. My son would have been the next target; before that could happen, I escaped to what I hoped would be a more congenial atmosphere in which to raise him."
"That was when you contacted the Federation." Sumarr nodded. His jaw was clenched, his eyes brighter than usual. While he spoke, he clenched and unclenched a fist. "My instincts proved correct. In exchange for sensitive information about my former people, Starfleet was willing to furnish me with a new identity, even a vocation. Masquerading as a Vulcan was a natural choice, especially since I had entertained a lifelong interest in your planet's language and literature. Continuing my studies soon became a matter of survival, rather than amusement. Fortunately, I had incentive. Selyk-as I began to call him then-was the only thing I had left."
"I see." Spock followed his guest to his feet. His voice, along with his expression, had softened. "I sympathize with your dilemma. The choice to betray your people cannot have been easy."
"Actually, it was surprisingly easy, once I saw how little regard my own people had for me. Were I ever to return, I would instantly be killed as a traitor. So you see, I am no longer a Romulan in any genuine sense of the word. Nor is my son too much a Romulan to become engaged to your daughter. After all, what pureblooded Vulcan would have either of them? You are half human, and your wife has no home planet at all. It seems to me that a match between them would resolve many issues that disturb us both."
"My decision on that score is unchanged. You are mistaken if you think that I can or would order Lidia into any such arrangement. Personal experience suggests that arranged marriages are less than desirable in some situations."
Sumarr's smile returned. "Then trouble yourself no further on that score. It is my understanding that your daughter is in favor of the match. She and my son have apparently reached a certain...understanding."
"That is of no consequence. She is young and will almost certainly change her mind."
"My son is also of tender years just yet. But is that not to our advantage? Perhaps one day, Spock, our two worlds, so long at odds, will find their way back to one another. Perhaps my son and your daughter will pave the way. And if, or when, that time comes, you and I may not be too old to do our parts."
Seeing that Spock remained unmoved, he laughed-a jarring, discordant sound, in his host's opinion.
"But let us speak of it no further just now," Sumarr decided cheerfully. "You are anxious to rejoin your family, and your charming visitor. And, as I said before, I have lectures to prepare."
- - - -
Coming this winter: Part 5