Sarek's clothes became weightless and his feet began to drift several centimeters off the floor, suggesting the gravity controls were failing. Amanda yelped beside him, pawing through the darkness and making contact with his back.
A loud hum and click shot through the void and dim, emergency lighting strips along the floor and ceiling engaged, covering Amanda's terrified face with ghostly shadows. A moment after that, they sank back to the floor and the overhead lights were restored to approximately half brightness.
"Some kind of glitch?" Amanda muttered through clenched teeth.
As if to answer her question, the intercom crackled to life and a female voice announced, "Attention guests and residents, this is Commander Zhang. A computer issue has caused a power surge in life support systems. As per protocol, power was momentarily diverted from non-essential systems to support critical atmospheric controls. All systems are currently back online and engineers are investigating the source of this unexpected power surge. While they are performing diagnostics, we may experience intermittent interruptions to non-essential systems, including replicators, lavatories, illumination, and gravity controls. Diagnostic and maintenance checks are not anticipated to last longer than eight hours. We ask that you remain in your quarters and secure any large items that may cause injury in low-gravity environments until this issue is resolved. We appreciate your understanding and cooperation."
Amanda's arms were crossed tightly across her body and her face was very pale. "Does this kind of thing happen a lot?"
"I am not certain about the day-to-day functions of Io Station, but such things do happen, I suppose. They are happening now."
"So what do we do?"
"I would recommend making use of the lavatory and replicator while it is still an option."
Amanda nodded and raced toward the bathroom while Sarek went to test the replicator. He quickly produced a warm bowl of vegetable stew and a decanter of water and took a seat at the tiny round table by the sofa. Amanda joined him a minute later, having selected a bowl of spaghetti.
"I would also encourage you to eat quickly. If the gravity controls fail again, we will likely end up wearing portions of our meals."
"Maybe spaghetti wasn't a smart choice then." She stuffed an oversized glob of noodles in her mouth and chewed quickly. "We're going to be okay, right?"
"I see no reason why we should not be."
"But it sounds like they don't know what caused the power surge."
"I believe the station commander indicated it was a computer issue, one they are investigating."
"But what does that even mean? The computer just automatically shut off the lights and the gravity—what's to stop it from turning off the oxygen or whatever?"
"I am uncertain about Io Station's programming, but when power is disrupted on interstellar vessels, it is common practice to have emergency algorithms in place to terminate systems in order from least to most essential, usually beginning with convenience items such as food replicators and ending with the most critical containment fields. Unless there is a breach of containment or a catastrophic power failure, we will not go without oxygen."
"But it could still happen?"
"It is highly improbable but still within the realm of possibility," he conceded. "Even so, it is likely they would evacuate the station well in advance of an anticipated containment breach."
She stared into her plate of sauce-slathered noodles. "The idea that I could just die…it's…"
"Has it never occurred to you that you are mortal?"
"Obviously I know I'm not going to live forever but death isn't really something I think about. I've never been in a situation where I could just…poof, be dead."
"I would assert that you are in such a situation during every living moment of your life, you are simply unaware of it much of the time," Sarek argued. "You are a biochemical being composed of interconnected organ systems, any of which could fail at any time."
She shot him a dark look. "I'm nineteen. I'm a little young to be having a stroke or a heart attack or whatever."
"Younger than average, certainly, but it is not impossible. Furthermore, there are an infinite number of ways your life might end abruptly due to external factors, regardless of whether or not you are in space."
Amanda frowned and asked in a hushed and pensive voice, "Like being hit by a shuttle while you're walking across the street to the library?"
"Yes," he agreed. "Though that is a uniquely specific example."
"That's how my mom died."
He had never known her to look so sad. "I was unaware your mother's manner of death was so sudden and traumatic."
"It's not something I really talk about."
"Then I will gladly respect your privacy and pry no further," he said, wondering how he might shift the conversation to elevate her mood.
They spent the rest of their hurried meal in reflective quiet, treated only to the sounds of silverware clanking against the plastic dishes. When Amanda was finished, Sarek took her plate to the reclaimator, pleased that his actions could coax a murmur of thanks from her.
"Is it getting colder in here to you?" Amanda asked.
"It is likely that in an effort to conserve power, they have lowered the temperature just as they dimmed the lighting."
She pulled a light jacket from her bag and pulled it over her slender frame. "What do you want to do?"
"We could review for your comprehensive exam. It is in two weeks, after all."
"I don't want to study," she groaned, pulling her legs into a crossed position beneath her on the sofa. Just as she finished speaking, the lights flickered off for the second time. "And see, that's got to be the universe's way of telling me it doesn't want me to study either."
"I believe your PADD is capable of illumination."
"It's also capable of playing movies," she said. A bright square suddenly shone through the darkness as she turned the device on.
"You prefer to watch physics tutorials instead?"
"I prefer not to think about physics," she laughed. "I meant we could watch something together for fun."
"This is really what you would prefer?"
"No. I always wanted to come to space and see what it was like and now I'm stuck in a small room and can't do anything."
"Even if we weren't confined to our quarters, what did you imagine there was to amuse you on Io Station?"
The lights flickered back on and Amanda tossed her PADD on the sofa beside her. "It doesn't seem like there's much to do at all, and nothing I couldn't do on Earth, other than look at Jupiter or Io. What would you do for fun if I hadn't come?"
"I would likely meditate if you were not here."
"That sounds…peaceful."
"Would you like to try?" Sarek asked, intrigued by the idea of her pursuing mindfulness techniques.
The lights fluttered off again. Amanda sighed. "No. I'd be too distracted with all these crazy power glitches." She chuckled to herself and added, "You know, the power went out at my dorm last semester for emergency construction for almost a whole day and a lot of us sat around and played drinking games."
"Drinking games?" Sarek queried. "How does one make a game out of drinking?"
"Easily," she laughed. "All you need is some liquor and imagination."
"You use an intoxicant?" he asked.
She snorted. "Did you think it would be better with water or something?"
"What are the rules of such a game?"
"There are different games like 'Would You Rather?' and 'Never Have I Ever.' You take a drink when you disagree with the speaker."
"Clarify," Sarek urged, wishing he could see her face through the darkness.
"Well, in 'Never Have I Ever,' everyone sits around and one person starts out by saying 'Never have I ever done…whatever.' For example, I might say, 'Never have I ever cheated on a test.' If you have cheated on a test, then you have to take a drink. Then it goes to the next person. And they say, 'Never have I ever…' and around and around it goes."
"How is a victor declared?"
"Usually whoever doesn't pass out drunk first I guess," she chortled. "Though there really aren't any winners. 'Would You Rather?' is kind of similar. You ask a person a question like, 'Would you rather eat cat food once or eat the same meal every day for a month?' The other person answers and if you disagree with them, you have to take a drink."
Sarek had never been inebriated but the premise of drinking games was fascinating. A person might try to lie to conceal an embarrassing truth and avoid consuming alcohol, but eventually they would be forced to concede for the sake of appearances and increasing intoxication would lead to increasing honesty.
The lights came back on and he found Amanda watching him with a smile on her face. "Wanna give it a go?" she asked.
"You mean play these drinking games?"
"Why not? It's been a while since we sat in Pete's and tried to get to know more about each other."
"I am not in the habit of consuming drinks to alter my mental status," he explained. "And I believe the intoxicant in what you call liquor is ethanol, which has no effect on my physiology."
"But I thought Vulcans got drunk on chocolate."
"Chocolate contains theobromine, which does cause an altered mental state in members of my species, but I have never consumed it."
"What are you talking about?" she scoffed. "When we first met, I almost never saw you without a mocha in your hand."
"That is coffee. I believe the active ingredient in coffee is caffeine, which also has no effect on members of my species."
"Okay, but you do know the thing that makes it a mocha is chocolate syrup, right?"
Sarek tried to keep his face from expressing shock but he wasn't certain he succeeded. "I did not know that. Why did you not tell me?"
She covered her mouth in a poor attempt to hide her amusement. "I didn't know Vulcans got drunk off chocolate until a few weeks ago, and then when I found out, I just…I thought you knew. How could you not know? You didn't notice feeling different when you drank it?"
"Prior to consuming mocha lattes, I had never tried chocolate, nor had I ever been drunk. How could I be expected to know what either was like when I had no frame of reference?"
She dropped her hand, revealing a wide grin stretched across her cheeks. Sarek hardly noticed—he was too lost in his reflections, stunned by the realization that for most of his early acquaintanceship with Amanda, he had been mildly inebriated. It was logical to consider the possibility that mochas had lowered his inhibitions and were the reason he felt more comfortable around her.
"I'm sorry to drop that on you, I guess," Amanda finally said. "Please don't be mad. I really thought you knew."
"Anger is illogical," he explained, though he stopped short of admitting that he was having a difficult time cleansing his consciousness of embarrassment. "It would seem we were both ignorant of the facts at first."
"Well, since you know you like mochas and you now realize that you know what it feels like to be drunk, you want to give drinking games a shot? We could stop whenever you want."
"The replicators are likely not functioning," he replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
"But they could be," she grinned. "If they are, will you play?"
"I…defer to your judgement."
Amanda cautiously rose to her feet and shambled to the replicator. When she turned back to him, he saw her left hand held two bottles and her right hand held two tiny glasses. She set them down triumphantly in the middle of the dining table and motioned for him to join her.
"How should we begin?" Sarek asked.
"You're sure you want to do this?" she replied, clutching the bottle of blue liquid in her hand.
"I am not certain. But this exercise seems to interest you and if I understand the premise of each game, the possibility for introspection and philosophical debate exists and I am satisfied with that."
She poured some of the contents of the blue bottle into her own miniature glass and then filled his with steaming hot chocolate-flavored coffee. Sarek stared at her offering. How could he truly have not realized what mochas were?
"Do you want to go first or should I?"
"Perhaps it is best if you begin, since this was your idea."
"Ugh, now I have to think of a question," she sighed, tapping her index finger to her chin. "Okay, would you rather live one life that was one thousand years long, or live one thousand unique lives that were only one year long each?"
Sarek gazed into her eyes, viewing her query more as a challenge than an innocent question. "I have several points of clarification."
She held up a hand. "No explanations. You just have to answer."
"I cannot make a reasoned decision with so little information. And I had believed the purpose of this game was to reflect and debate."
"Fine. What are your questions?"
"If I were to choose to live one thousand lives that only spanned the course of a year, would I experience each of those lives in my infancy?"
"Okay, I guess that is a fair question. Let's say no—you would be an adult, just as you are now. But you would live very unique lives. Different genders, different species, completely different backgrounds."
"I see," he said, thinking to himself. "And if I were to choose to live a single life that spanned a millennium—" His musing was cut short by the sensation that he was hovering in his chair. The gravity controls had failed once again. He watched the brown drink form little blobs and float out of his glass and quickly placed a hand over it to keep the lack of gravity from spreading his drink all over the room.
Amanda watched with wide eyes and copied his motion, laughing to herself as she tried to contain her beverage. "How is the furniture staying put?"
"If you notice, most of it is bolted in place for this exact reason," Sarek answered, grabbing each of the bottles as they drifted near him and bracing himself against the ceiling with his elbow.
"This is the craziest thing!" she squealed, lifting her weightless legs to her chest. She kicked her legs upward and began a slow somersault in midair, clearly delighted at being freed from the restrictions of gravity.
"Might I make a suggestion?" Sarek said, interrupting her play.
"How can you not think this is fun?"
"I confess it is an interesting sensation, however, I would point out that the lights and the gravity come and go without warning, and if you happen to be upside down when the gravity returns, you will fall on your head."
Her eyes grew wide and she reached out to the wall to try and right herself, but as if to prove his point, the gravity reengaged and she crashed to the floor. In the calmest voice he could summon he called, "Amanda?"
"I'm fine," she said, choking through laughter. When she stood up, he realized she was wearing most of her drink.
"Perhaps we might try a game that is less likely to result in excess laundry," Sarek suggested.
"Oh no," Amanda replied, taking the blue bottle out from the crook of his elbow and pouring herself another glass. "We're doing this. So what's your answer—one one-thousand-year lifetime, or one thousand one-year lifetimes?"
Amanda's mind felt loose and light, happily buzzing away inside her skull. She was certainly tipsy but not falling down drunk. At least not when the gravity was functioning.
It was hard to say how long they'd been at this, probing each other's morals, ethics, and histories with questions both deep and inane. They were swaddled in the bed linens to keep warm in the increasingly frigid room and they both had drink on their clothes. They had taken to sitting on the bed since it provided a soft place to land whenever the gravity re-engaged.
Sarek's transformation under the influence of chocolate was the most fascinating part of it all. He was still his calm and stoic self, but a more light-hearted and easy-going version of himself. She had actually seen him smile twice. They weren't big dopey grins—they were nothing more than slight curves of the lips and absolutely no teeth were exposed—but it made her so happy to see him enjoying himself.
"I require an answer," Sarek reminded her, giving her a slight conciliatory bow.
Amanda snickered to herself, trying to make her mind focus. "What was the question again?"
"Would you rather punish an innocent person or allow a guilty one to go free?"
"But you never said what they were guilty of…" she droned, placing so much emphasis on the last word that it came out as intensely whiny.
"And is that not the most essential question to ask?" Sarek said, his voice rising in excitement.
"Yeah!" she cried. "It is! Like, you have murder on the one hand. And then you have jaywalking or something. I could let a jaywalker go. But murder? I don't know." She started laughing uncontrollably.
"Is something amusing about murder?" he asked, glancing down at his hands. She had the feeling he did that when he was trying to avoid laughing aloud.
She covered her mouth. "No!"
"I believe you are intoxicated," Sarek declared.
"Yeah," she quickly agreed.
"Does this mean I win?"
"Of course not!"
"So what is your answer?" he pressed.
"I don't know," she mumbled, flopping down on the bed and trying to ignore the fact that the room seemed to be spinning. "You're the logical one. You tell me."
"If I wanted a logical answer, I would have asked myself."
Something about his cheeky answer made Amanda roar with mirth. She sat up and slapped the coffee-stained bedspread. "Oh! I know! I have a question!" She licked her lips, frustrated that she'd slurred the word question.
Sarek gestured for her to pose her query.
"Would you rather never be alone again or be alone for the rest of your life?"
"You cannot pose a question without answering mine first," Sarek reminded her.
"Fine, I'd punish a guilty person," she replied, waving her hand in a dramatic flourish.
"That was not an option," he said, shaking his head and gazing down at his palms.
"It should be."
The corners of Sarek's mouth trended upward once again, which he artfully hid behind taking another drink.
"Okay, so do you want to be alone forever or never be alone again?"
"If I am never to have any privacy again, do I get to select the company I keep? And will it always be the same people, or am I permitted to rotate?"
She gave him a sharp look. "You have to spend it with your family."
For the first time since they'd started drinking together, Sarek's face fell into stony seriousness. She was drunk but she sensed she'd crossed a line. "Okay, so maybe not your family, maybe—"
"I am not certain I will ever see my family again," he interrupted.
Amanda swallowed and did her best to look dignified and concerned. "Why not?"
He gulped. "I had an affair with an inconvenient woman."
Amanda's jaw dropped. "Oh."
"Yes," Sarek replied, nodding in agreement. "I tried to fight another man for her. People found out. It caused a scandal."
"What?" Amanda breathed in astonishment, still sober enough to sense she ought to try to keep from laughing in surprise.
"It's true. She refused my offer. She married him."
"What?" Amanda repeated, this time more forcefully.
His eyes flicked in her direction, making direct contact with hers. "There is a lot you may not know about Vulcan culture."
"I believe you," she scoffed. "You were going to fight him? Like with your fists?"
"Yes and no. It is complicated."
"Did you love her?"
"I did. Time and distance have returned my logic to me, but I do not think they can repair the damage between my father and myself."
"Why don't you call him?" Amanda shrugged. "I'm sure he'd want to hear from you."
"You know nothing about my family." His words came as a sharp admonishment, stinging Amanda to her core.
She decided to press her luck. "Family is the most important thing. I lost my mom two years ago. You know what the last thing I said to her was? I told her I didn't want waffles for breakfast. Waffles. The last thing I ever talked to my mother about was waffles."
"What are waffles?" Sarek asked, scratching his head.
"It's not important," she said, clearing her throat and struggling to enunciate each syllable. "What I'm trying to tell you is you don't know how long you have with people."
Sarek blinked. "Your eyes are leaking."
Amanda rubbed her cheek, annoyed to discover she was crying. Sarek tipped the remaining contents of the mocha bottle into his mouth.
"Okay, new question," Amanda said, wishing to get away from sad topics like breakups and dead parents. "Would you rather…never have sex again? Or only be able to have sex in a public place?"
A tiny chuckle burst from his lips, shocking Amanda into her own bout of uproarious laughter. "Did you just laugh?"
"I did not."
"You did."
He grimaced. "If I were having sexual intercourse in a public place, does this mean people would be watching me?"
"Yes, silly. Otherwise it's not interesting."
"Then I would choose to never have sex again."
Amanda's eyes grew wide and she took a long drink of her cinnamon liqueur straight from the bottle. Just as he was about to speak, she interjected, "Is Vulcan mind sex really better than regular sex?"
His eyebrows shot upward. "I—I presume you are referring to mind melding?"
"Yeah, Vedek and Mara do it all the time. She says it's like a whole body orgasm."
Sarek clearly didn't even bother trying to suppress his shock. He looked down at the empty bottle in his hands with far more interest than a simple bottle could possibly warrant.
"Did I embarrass you by saying the word orgasm?" she giggled, wondering if she should be embarrassed.
"I am…surprised," he confessed. "Sharing one's mind is a very intimate thing. In many ways, it is far more intimate than sharing one's body."
"That doesn't sound right. Sex has like...body fluids. You know what sex is, don't you?"
He gave her a reproving look. "Have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse?"
She feigned shock. "That's a very personal question."
"This coming from a woman who just asked if I would rather mate in public or remain celibate for the remainder of my life."
"True, and you chose to stay sexless."
He cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes," she finally conceded. "I've had sex. So what?"
"And have you ever engaged in an intimate mind meld?"
"You're the first Vulcan I've ever really held a serious conversation with. And I just asked you what it was like, so obviously, I haven't. You couldn't figure that out with all that logic of yours?"
"It was very easy to deduce," he admitted. "But I preferred to pose it to you as a question for emphatic effect. So with your answers in mind, how can you determine which form of contact is more intimate if you've only ever experienced one of them?"
"I guess I can't," she shrugged. "Wanna show me what mind melding is like?"
Just as the last syllable escaped her lips, Amanda found herself wishing she could suck the words out of the space between them and back into her mouth. If he had been caught off guard by her questions about what mind melding felt like, clearly her proposition that they actually do it had completely jammed his thought processes. She wanted to take it back and play it off as a joke…but she also didn't.
Her suggestion lingered, awkward and uncomfortable. Then she noticed how much nearer their faces seemed than they had just moments ago. Was he leaning in to kiss her? Or was she sloping toward him? When she dared herself to look him in the eye, she found startlingly intensity radiating from his expression. Her heart thundered and she couldn't deny how curious and excited she was by the thought of sharing a kiss with him.
She could make out the greenish flecks in his irises, then she could feel the rustle of his breath on her neck. Just as she began to tilt her head to make it easier for him to access her mouth, he jerked back. He took several slow breaths and massaged his forehead with his fingertips. "We should—I should—we are both intoxicated and incapable of thinking rationally."
She felt herself being crushed under the weight of disappointment and mortification. As if to prove his point, whatever part of her brain that was responsible for sexual arousal pleaded, "But I know how I feel about you when I'm not drunk."
He shot her a puzzled stare. "Explain."
"I like you. And I feel like I know you well enough to say that if we were dating for real, we probably would have had sex by now." Her pitiful words barely rose above the level of a whisper. "Or at least I would have let you, you know, if you wanted."
His eyes shifted back and forth, searching for something safe to look at. "Your inebriated state is causing you to say things you otherwise would not say. Perhaps we should retire to bed."
She sucked in air through her teeth. "I—I'm sorry."
"Do not apologize," he replied, his response more forceful and abrupt than she'd expected. "It is merely that you cannot—I do not wish to take advantage of you."
Amanda turned away in the hopes that he wouldn't notice the scarlet color of her cheeks. "Yeah. Sure. Okay. Um, I'll just be on the couch. Good night, Sarek."
She scurried into position on the stiff, compact sofa by the foot of the bed, wrapping herself in the bed's comforter and turning herself away from him. After several long seconds he replied, "Good night, Amanda."
Mercifully, the overhead lighting chose that moment to fail again. She had never been so grateful to be caught in the dark, but the stillness had a way of amplifying her shame. She might have literally kicked herself if she thought he wouldn't think she'd completely lost her mind. What had she been thinking, coming on to him like that? All she wanted was to crawl in a hole and die. She wanted that, and she wanted the room to stop spinning.