Library Pass

By

Pat Foley

Chapter 2

Picnic time for teddy bears,
The little teddy bears are having a lovely time today.
Watch them, catch them unawares,
And see them picnic on their holiday.

Squaring her shoulders as if for battle, Amanda entered the kitchen. "Good morning, T'Rueth."

"Good morning, my lady." The kitchen staff had quadrupled in the last week. T'Rueth had conscripted several cooks from T'Pau's Palace, all busily working away rolling out pastries. What looked like half the Matriarch's kitchen staff were preparing vegetables, while a line of workers was dropping basket after basket of fruit in the far panty. Outside Amanda heard one of the gardeners, his voice raised to be heard above the delivery trucks and unloading noises, complaining bitterly about T'Rueth's orders that his cutting garden was be virtually stripped to make floral arrangements for the parties, when he had just tidied it for the upcoming party, while the head gardener reminded him that was the logical purpose of a cutting garden, and did he think he was in charge of one of the formal gardens? Amanda winced as the first gardener emphatically stated this had never happened before. Given that she never much cared for cut flowers, the sudden and abrupt harvesting of flowers for centerpieces must have come as a severe shock to that ancient and staid Vulcan, kept on even after he was past keeping the formal gardens in order. Amanda hoped he wouldn't take it too amiss. Outside, the clash and clatter of workmen continued, drowning out even that discussion and even T'Rueth had to raise her voice to make herself heard above the racket. "I have several issues to discuss with you regarding this evening's event."

"Oh?" Amanda steeled herself. "I have some to discuss with you."

"I think we must dispense with the notion of sensei melons as appetizers."

"But everyone likes them, Vulcan and humans, and they are rare enough in commerce to be sure to be a treat," Amanda argued. "And we have plenty ripening in the gardens. Why shouldn't we use them?"

"I am not satisfied with their quality."

"Sarek had one for dinner last night and he didn't complain. In fact he devoured it right down to the rind," Amanda threw her husband to the lions – embodied in this case by T'Rueth -- without a qualm.

T'Rueth fixed her with a gaze that would have shot down T'Pau. "Do you think I would put a bad melon on my table, my lady? Or before my lord?"

Amanda sighed. "No, T'Rueth. Of course you would not. So you're saying the other melons are bad?"

"I am saying there are more suitable alternatives. Of which I have prepared a list."

Amanda received it warily and her eyes widened. "This is quite a list. What specifically did you wish to substitute instead?"

"We will offer melons, such as I think fit. And a collation of other fruits and some soups, both hot and cold."

Her jaw dropped. "You mean you want to offer all these dishes?"

"Of course. Our guest list is very diverse. We should offer diversity in turn."

Amanda suspected T'Rueth wasn't blind that IDIC in this case gave her the chance to showcase her considerable talents – much more than cutting a melon, even those cut so fancifully as to be art sculptures. And she hadn't failed to notice that her guest list had become our guest list. "It's a lot more work for you. And a very late change. Wouldn't it be simpler to just settle on one thing?"

"Simple, my lady?"

"Sometimes simple is best." Amanda said. "Minimalism can be elegant. Less is more."

T'Rueth raised a brow.

"It isn't logical." Amanda agreed. "But it's often true."

"I will keep that in mind, my lady. " T'Rueth said, while giving the impression entirely otherwise. "But I have never set a minimal table. Now, as to my menu substitutions?"

Amanda glanced down the list. "I suppose. If you think it best. But pare it down to half of what's here, and that way the guests will have an easier choice. Otherwise they'll be so busy trying appetizers they'll never taste your main course. Really, I think that will be best, T'Rueth," she added forestalling the Vulcan woman's arguments. "But I'll leave the final selection up to you.

"And I think it would be better to use the T'Dayeth tableware rather than the Shinn."

Amanda bit her lip and refused to even ask, after T'Rueth had insisted she sit down with her one morning and laboriously review the pattern databases listing all the tableware in the fortress, why she would suddenly want to substitute one obscure Vulcan 'china' pattern for another. When they had both agreed on the Shinn. But she didn't care. It didn't matter to her. Perhaps someone had dropped a crate moving something out of storage. Or, heretical thought, the inventory had been wrong. She would not even ask, sparing something of herself for the final battle. "Fine."

"And, regarding the lighting--"

"That's what I came in to talk to you about," Amanda broke in. "T'Rueth, there is no need to put up all that lighting. There is already external lighting in the courtyard and formal gardens. The fairy lights are just for accent. You've ordered four times as much as we previously discussed."

"Five point two. I deemed it best, and assumed the prior estimated figures were in error. For surely the purpose of lighting is to see clearly in darkness."

"Not this lighting. These are just to set a mood. A tone. Not a bone."

"A bone, my lady?"

"Social knife work aside, we won't be conducting surgery out there. We want a play of light and shadow. A chiaroscuro. It gives people needed cover – and never was that more needed than at diplomatic events. This will be a party, not a debate or a treaty negotiation. A little shadow is appropriate in certain areas. So send half the lights back, T'Rueth."

T'Rueth held her ground. "Even with minimal lighting, it will be needed to light all the gardens."

"But we aren't going to light all the gardens," Amanda argued. "Only the courtyard and the formal gardens. To light all the gardens with fairy lights would take --"

"Exactly what I have estimated," T'Rueth concluded with relish. "And there will be a great many guests. There are a great many gardens. I think it is best that we light them all. Surely the guests will wish to see our Terran rose gardens. And the greenhouses and cool houses have been straightened and prepared for the party. People will wish to tour them. Many are turned away from the tours every week."

Amanda hadn't failed to notice how her rose gardens had suddenly become our rose gardens. There was no need for "hothouses" on Vulcan, but her succession houses weren't a new idea in gardening, and were used to take certain crops through a seasonal cool spell sometimes required to set fruit or flower. They'd never been on the tour. On the other hand, if the Vulcan staff wanted to show off their hard work, and were using T'Rueth to forward that aim, she would hardly deny them this opportunity. Though it would be nice if Vulcans, for once, would just admit to pride and say so. "It's not the principle purpose of the party."

"I've been told that the gardens and succession houses are left always accessible to the party guests. That party guests have been known to walk through them."

"Well naturally we don't post guards and run them off, and people do walk through them, but--"

"To reach them, the guests will need additional lighting. Unlike Vulcans, Humans cannot see in the dark. We would not want to risk injury by negligence."

Amanda drew a breath and capitulated, wondering why she even bothered to argue. This party was definitely slipping out of her hands. "Very well, T'Rueth. You may light all the gardens with fairy lights. Just remember they are not meant to turn night into day. They are meant to give minimal lighting. Think of the effect of fluorescent insects in the dark – not searchlights meant to add security to a dilithium power station. One strand of lights per pathway should be enough. The effect is meant to be subdued. Subtle."

"Of course, my lady."

Amanda studied her satisfied expression, suspecting that, like Sarek, T'Rueth was always going to get exactly what she wanted, and had learned to start out bargaining high to obtain it. "I appreciate your hard work and I'm sure everything will be lovely, T'Rueth."

She joined Sarek in the main dining hall, where he was finishing breakfast, closing her eyes to all the workmen she spied on the way in the kitchens and terraces and courtyards. "What a nightmare."

"How did it go?" Sarek asked, looking up.

Amanda made a pretense of mopping a haggard brow. "Are you sure T'Rueth isn't in your direct line?"

"She is of a sub-branch."

"Well, I think she has delusions of godhood too. And she's very good at negotiating. Not to put too fine a point on it, she mopped the floor with me." Seeing his expression change minutely, she added, "Oh, none of it was really worth arguing about. But I'm beginning to think I should just carry in a white flag before we even start and beg for mercy."

"Hopefully it is to both your advantage," Sarek said.

"There are times when I doubt it," Amanda said. "But I suspect she's just having first time jitters and doesn't want me to see it."

"Jitters?"

"She's nervous. Hence the overdoing. It's very common for a first dinner party. T'Rueth and I get on very well, on whole. She just needs to get this night past her."

Sarek winced at the rumbling of a servo vehicle delivering more party supplies. "Given these recent repercussions, I confess to some small doubts myself. But in the end, I trust Vulcan efficiency will prove itself and will surely be able to deliver a party equivalent to your Terran firms. Controlled, logical Vulcan attendants should be in every way superior--"

A door banged, and T'Rueth's sharp voice was heard raised from the kitchen, causing Sarek to abruptly cease that argument, while T'Rueth could be heard saying, "But those are to be set up on the Terrace, not here in the house. What do you mean bringing them into my kitchen! The instructions were quite plain. T'Jar will show you where they go. T'Jar!" T'Rueth might have been speaking into the house communication system, but her voice carried even to Amanda's ears, and though he didn't exactly wince, Sarek closed his eyes briefly and at that, abandoned his argument and the field.

"I must go. I now appear to have several meetings before morning scheduling."

"Oh, stay and fight," Amanda teased. "Leaving me here without any moral support."

Sarek raised a brow. "If you desire an expression of support and approval --" he leaned down.

"I am coming!" called T'Jar and came tripping down the stairs, took the shortcut through the dining hall to the kitchen, and flying through past them as if they weren't there. Amanda stepped back from her husband as if burned.

"Amanda," Sarek said, not so much in reproof as in frustration. "She surely did not--"

"See anything. Probably not. And maybe she wouldn't care if she did. I was just startled. This party thing is getting to me too. But Sarek, that girl is a positive innocent. And I'm not going to be the one to shatter her Vulcan illusions. Nor, my husband, are you. In another day, things will be back to normal. Or such normal as things have lately been around here. And we can get back to normal."

"If her youth makes you consider her unequal to her duties, perhaps we should acquire more mature attendants."

"She's a nice girl. I like her. I like her so much I wish I had another son. She'd make a daughter-in-law I'd be pleased to have."

Sarek glanced at her. "She is hardly a suitable candidate."

"That was your mother's argument. Against me. Anyway, it's a moot point. Suffice to say, I find her charming and sweet. And I've already dealt with one jilted girlfriend, thank you, so I prefer someone like her, who isn'ta contemporary with disappointed affections. At least T'Jar is too young for romance. She just finished reading Alice in Wonderland."

"There was no jilting involved," Sarek said, mildly offended.

"I believe you. Regardless, I wouldn't want T'Jar to think she's done something wrong. She's so proud to be in service here."

A shade of exasperation touched Sarek's face. "T'Jar is Vulcan, my wife. Pride does not come into it."

"Tell T'Rueth that. And even you've been known to--"

"Amanda--"

"Oh, the Vulcan equivalent of proud, then. And I won't shatter that either. Anyway, I think she likes it here." Amanda gave him a look. "Remember, it wasn't my idea to have all this…help. Unless you think I'm not managing things properly."

Sarek drew a measured breath. "Never that. Though I do tend to agree that in some respects life was considerably easier before we had…help."

"See, we could use a few gods," Amanda teased. "At the very least our staff outnumber us."

The door to the main hall opened and Sedet peered inside. "Leader, there is now only twelve point two--"

"I am coming," Sarek unthinkingly echoed T'Jar's words, and nearly her tone, and at his wife's smothered laughter gave Amanda a glance that promised future retribution. "I will be out presently," Sarek said, dismissing his guardsman.

"And out of time," she added.

Sarek decided not to wait for the future. He estimated that after the number of violations to their privacy they'd just received, that they had at least a standard minute before the next one.

Amanda's eyes widened, surmising his intention, and she drew an anticipatory breath…

And T'Jar pattered in from the kitchen. This time, both of them pulled away as if burned. Even T'Jar froze for a moment. "My lady, T'Rueth asks have you finished with your breakfast? Because there are preparations to be made here, so perhaps if you are not you would take a tray in your--"

Amanda let out her held breath in a frustrated sigh. "No. Neither, T'Jar," she said, eager to get out of the way. "I'll just leave for the Academy now. But I won't be holding office hours. Tell T'Rueth that I'll be back early, directly after my classes, to…to help."

"To… help, my lady?" T'Jar looked astonished.

"Yes. I used to--"

"T'Jar!" T'rueth called.

"I will tell Sascek to come now," T'Jar said, and ran back to the kitchen, where he was no doubt breakfasting.

"--do this myself. Once," Amanda finished faintly. "Once. Not all that long ago," she said. "Though it has begun to seem like another life…" She could hear T'Jar's light voice scolding, before the kitchen door swung closed.

"Surely you have breakfasted enough, Sascek. The Lady Amanda is ready to leave for the Academy--"

Amanda sighed again, hearing only the rumble of Sascek's reply, sans words, but thinking anyone that big, interrupted from his breakfast, was bound to be in a grouchy mood. "Was it another life?" She asked Sarek, who kept looking from the door to her as if estimating odds.

"If it was, it was on the whole a better one," Sarek said. "I am now more than ready to send all these attendants back to T'Pau."

"Let's just run away ourselves," Amanda said wickedly, as they threaded through what looked like half of T'Pau's grounds staff in addition to her own. "And let the Teddy Bearsparty on their own." She looked up at Sarek. "You'd better go. You've got meetings, and this--" she waved a hand at the flurry behind them, "is a lost cause."

"Indeed, but not quite yet." Sarek took her hand and pulled her to him. Her eyes widened. "You're not! Not before…everybody?"

"This appears to actually be the only quiet place," Sarek said, looking around. "They have plagued us long enough, but for once, they are all engaged in other chores. Quite sparing us their notice."

"I think you're right," Amanda said, looking back at the forest of workers, all Vulcan and busily engaged in their duties and paying not the slightest attention to them.

"Alone in a crowd," she murmured to Sarek. He succumbed to privacy enough to pull her behind the cover of his broad back, and the wide panel of the gate. And this time they did manage to finish at least a quick kiss without interruption, with the Vulcan staff largely unawares.

But in spite of their precautions, not entirely without observation. Having hustled Sascek to finish his breakfast, T'Jar slipped out the side door to tell her lady he was coming. Over a stone fence that separated one garden room from another, she stopped, stock still, eyes wide in astonishment.

"T'Jar?" Sascek came up behind her, looking from her to where Sarek was stepping through the gate, his hand trailing from Amanda's. "T'Jar? Are you ill?"

And T'Jar raised her flushed face to his, and fled back to the kitchen, where she realized T'Rueth had been calling her for the last minute.

Sascek went to get his lady's flyer, glancing back to where he could see T'Jar's face, at one of the terrace windows, before it too disappeared. More familiar with his employers, he realized what she might have seen.

He trudged into the hanger, a twinge of concern crossing his Vulcan features.

To be continued--

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