Pardek's recording ended, so Spock shutdown the message and sat back in his chair. The office assigned for his and Kirk's use was empty except for him.
Pardek...
When they had first needed a contact in the Romulan Empire, Kirk had suggested Pardek. After all, they knew the Romulan from the Khitomer Accords where he had made it plain how appalled he was at his ambassador's part in the conspiracy. In fact, over anyone who stood against peace. He had asked Spock to stay in contact, so he was an obvious choice to research any possible information on the disease.
But...
Valeris had been trusted. So had Cartwright, West, and Romulan Ambassador Nanclus. And knowing Pardek was too new a thing for Spock to decide if the Romulan was trustworthy. After all, what if the Empire knew nothing about the surviving hybrids? Or the disease responsible for eleven deaths already? If Pardek was as disreputable as Nanclus, Spock might bring Saavik and the others into more danger by informing the Empire they lived. And that someone had created a perfect weapon to use against them.
But the risk in not contacting Pardek was obvious: if the Romulan was trustworthy and the Empire was behind the disease, he condemned Saavik and the others to their deaths.
In the end, he and Kirk had decided to contact Miller, find someone else in the Empire if possible, and if not, reach out to Pardek. Archernar saved them from that.
How ironic. That when Spock at last placed his trust, he gave it to someone who had confessed to stealing from one of his own friends, and not to the Senator with his stated dedication to peace. To trust Archernar with so many lives... after all, the Romulan had revealed in his last message that he knew where to find someone directly involved with Hellguard. Almost as if he protected this person.
And yet, balanced against that was the Romulan's behavior on Enterprise as he handed Spock a coin of purest Romulan gold as a gift and symbol to Saavik. The sincerity in that gesture, mirrored in his words that he did not forget his life debts...
So as Spock thought about Pardek's message, arriving, in another bit of irony, only hours after Archernar reached Uhura, he stood by the same words he gave Archernar years ago: "I take you at your word -- against my better judgment." Someday, Spock thought, Pardek might prove trustworthy of bringing about peace, once he had more time to know the Romulan.
He glanced up to the newly installed computer screens encompassing the office walls. Each one of the four displayed a group of suspects, including the information that might clear or condemn them. The one to Spock's right was for Vulcan's general practioners with Romulan hybrid patients. Spock touched the controls on his station, and his latest research updated the list on the screen. Most of the physicians and nurses cleared off the list.
They do not know enough details concerning Hellguard, and they never met hybrids other than their one or two patients. Nor can I find any instance of they're displaying hardcore enmity against the Romulan hybrids.
A few physicians did lose family on Hellguard, but I can find no evidence of contact with the hybrids or those who could reach them.
And he didn't find any evidence of a conspiracy ring made up of any physicians or any ties to a Federation hate group.
His eyes flicked to the large screen in front of him, displaying the research on the medical team fighting the disease.
Healer Srre. Srre has all the criteria -- medical knowledge, information on Hellguard, displaying antagonism against his half-brother over their father's rape and death. All criteria except he has never treated any hybrids prior to the phase. He saw none of them until the majority fell to Phase III. His meeting with his brother did not even occur until days before Mal'Shik died. Before that, during the creation and dispersal of the disease, Srre was at Gol.
Tu'ong lost a cousin to Hellguard and the Romulans, but none of the hybrid survivors who took the genetic scan traced back to her family. Not to mention, she never displayed malice towards any of them, and, like Srre, never met Saavik or any of the other hybrids until Sorel asked her to join his medical team.
Sa'd was on record as a physician for plenty of the hybrids, but also never displayed any animosity towards them, or knew anything but cursory details until he also joined Sorel's staff.
And so the list went on, each member cleared of suspicion. Corrigan and Sorel, as well as all the others, didn't have even one strike against them.
The Symmetry rescue team is equally exonerated. The only people not cleared were the Romulans. But how did they get to their victims? Covert agents from the Empire? Or accomplices within the Federation? No one on Spock's very long list of suspects had Romulan ties.
Where else must I look for information? He was making rapid progress, dwindling down his long list with irrefutable facts that cleared innocent names. It was an entire success except for...
His mind naturally drifted from this thought to the screen on his left. It featured anyone who possibly infected Saavik aboard the Aerfen. The screen was blank.
Uhura worked with Captain Hunter and her crew for possible leads, and everyone onboard the ship was cleared. Dannan Stuart spearheaded the investigation into who came from the outside, either when the ship was at port or when someone came aboard. Investigating anyone in all those ports was a daunting task. Especially if it was a Romulan agent who would know how to stay under cover.
And that didn't include all the possibilities for Jdehn, Mekhai, and Arik.
A file updated on his station: medical's latest report on Mekhai, Arik, and Jdehn. Each of them left Phase II late last night. Since they didn't practice Vulcan disciplines, they didn't need extra time to regain them. But reading between the lines, as McCoy would say, they were still raw, swelled with last vestiges of the fever. Especially Mekhai since, like Saavik, hadn't expelled the energy through combat or sex, but, unlike her, he hadn't had even the small relief from assisted meditation.
Spock called up another record, and read it over again. Saavik was being released later today, after some final tests.
He never had the chance to discuss what she did for him with Valeris.
His station chimed with an incoming message. Amanda was seated in her office, judging by the furniture. Behind her, he glimpsed the large windows that wrapped around her corner office on the other side of the Linguistics complex, away from the worst heat from Vulcan's sun.
"Spock, I just read your request. I'm not sure I understand. You suspect some of the Diplomatic Corps have been meeting against Saavik and the others?"
"Not quite, Mother. I am researching if prejudicial groups exist on Vulcan in the form they take in other parts of the Federation. Specifically in planning violence such as the destruction through this disease. With your and Father's work, you are more likely to have heard if this has ever taken place."
She made a disgusted noise. "Your father is more likely to know about such things. He's been more of a target than I have."
"Sarek?"
"Yes, Spock. After all, he and the others from the Symmetry -- well, excluding you -- brought all the children here who looked up their families. He was one of the ones who insisted the families take them in -- as they would any relative."
Because Spock had forced the Symmetry team's hand. And then left for a year on Dantria IV followed by all those years on Enterprise. For the first time, he saw he had left Sarek and the others to bear the brunt of their people's reaction.
His mother was watching him. "You never thought about it, did you?"
"No, I admit I did not. Was it very difficult?"
"Of course. I wouldn't want to be the one to deliver the news of over five hundred rape cases, and then tell the lucky twenty-nine families about the children."
He never expected that answer from his mother. She must have seen that.
"All right, I admit I became high and mighty with Sarek about people's reactions. I said the children should have been sent somewhere else, like Earth, where they would have been treated better. That's when I dug out of him your threat about what you would do if they took the children anywhere besides Vulcan. I still thought emotional species were better capable of handling the children than here."
He raised an eyebrow. "Mother, I extensively researched--" Frown lines appeared around her eyes. "I see. You did similar research. It is why you withdrew your arguments against Sarek."
"Even Earth disappointed me! I won't even go into what the Tellarites and the Andorians do to children of rape. So much for calling ourselves civilized."
Her disappointment was bitter, but she drew in a long breath and went on. "I'm sorry, Spock. You asked if any Vulcans organized against the Romulan hybrids. Well, the whole issue certainly drew a lot of argument. That went on for a long time, but I don't remember anything like that happening recently."
"How long is recently, Mother?"
"I'd say ten years or more. Nothing big, anyway. I don't know if I can rule out small groups keeping themselves private." She frowned again, and he knew she thought of the full implications of those groups existing. "Sarek is still a better source. Let me talk to him."
Spock went back to examining his findings. He had researched these same theories a number of different ways, but he started the searches again. Small groups, meeting in private... How did he search for something so hidden? And yet, he knew it could be found, given time and by discovering the key, just one fact, to unraveling the secrecy. Kirk was out doing his own investigations into this same thing, gathering all the information he could to pass to Spock. If they could find any evidence on how to track down these groups or find out if they even existed...
The computer signaled another incoming transmission, recorded the way Pardek's was: the Aerfen with their investigation results so far. No hardcore suspects so far, just possibilities that they passed along as he requested. The list of names meant nothing to him, but that was no surprise. He started a cross-check for any associations with his list, but found nothing.
Wherever the killer or killers hid themselves, they did it out of the medical community. However, some tie...
Or was it the other way around? Did someone create the disease first and then pass it to someone else, not a physician, but expert at working covertly? Disseminating the disease through some common means Spock hadn't even considered?
He worked the most basic facts over in his mind again, like one of his mathematical formulas. Hellguard and its details -- converted to a disease -- aimed as revenge -- spread through Vulcan first, then Saavik, then Jdehn and the other two --
Hellguard. It was the starting point, the pivot and crux to the whole situation. We must have that information from Archernar.
The computer signaled again, this time telling him that Aerfen had sent something else, something Amanda claimed from the Starfleet cargo master. He didn't have access to see its manifest, and Amanda didn't answer his attempts to reach her.
Curiosity was the first reason why he wanted to go to her office, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided not to wait for her to contact him. If the Aerfen found something to help his investigation, waiting was illogical. Taking a tricorder so he could check his research when it finished compiling, Spock left for the Linguistics building.
Amanda's senior aide, a middle-aged, tawny furred Caitian female, was not at her desk in the outer room. He heard a loud bang and his mother's voice, strained, and then Uhura yelled. He rushed inside.
Amanda bent over a large container, nearly big enough to hold her desk. It was falling off a cargo sled, the light catching the strain pulling her face tight over her delicate bones. Uhura grabbed at the box from the other side, putting her weight behind it, so it didn't crash further into the older woman. Spock wasted no time, but sped over and grabbed the containers' handles, taking the weight off of Amanda, and slowly pulling the crate to the floor.
"Mother."
She fought to regain her breath. "I know what you're thinking, but I wasn't trying to lift it! I was opening it, and the cargo sled isn't working right and kept banging into my legs. I tried to steady it, and the next thing I knew, the container was falling on me. I couldn't get out of the way in time."
He thought of all the time it took him to reach her office. "I tried to contact you. Were you caught under the container since then?"
"Was that you? I was hoping whoever it was would check why I didn't answer. Or that Pr'rearrm would get back to her desk. No, it just got in my way when you first called and I couldn't get around it fast enough. It was the next time that it started slipping."
He reached across her desk. "I am calling for a healer."
"No, Spock, I'm all right! Nyota heard me shouting and helped. Don't worry, and don't call any doctors. I don't need them if this sled will behave."
He leaned down to check the sled while she went on. "You showed up at a good time, Spock. I mean besides rescuing me. Help me unpack this -- wait, are you needed somewhere else? Help me unpack the main container and then I won't hold you up any longer. I've already pressed Nyota into service, so I shouldn't keep you too. She's going to help me check everything that's packed in this beast to make sure nothing's damaged."
With the danger over, he took the whole conversation as an amusing reminder of who was the parent and who the child. He checked the container's latches. They were on the sides; good, that made the exercise much more efficient.
"Mr. Spock," Uhura said, "If you need me for something else right now, sir." She let it dangle unfinished as a question.
"No, Commander, other than to ensure my mother attempts no more bodily injuries to herself in unpacking her container."
Amanda scoffed in maternal disgust. "Your sense of humor was always as appalling as your father's, Spock. And it is not my container. It's Saavik's things from the Aerfen. I know she'll be dismissed from the hospital in a little while, but I want to make sure everything arrived safely."
The latches sprang open under his fingers with loud snaps. Saavik's belongings...
Amanda hovered, waiting for him. "Of course, Captain Hunter and the others would be careful in packing everything, but it doesn't hurt to check."
The container bore nicks and scratches from being banged around, but with the sunlight pouring in, Spock saw the majority of the marks were old. Still... He pulled off a side panel and examined the padded packing material. The container was divided into two sections: on the left, making up the rear of the box, was a filled slot, not very wide but taking up the entire length of the big crate. Spock pulled it out and saw the padding held a slim case. He opened it and raised an eyebrow. Weapons, each held securely in more packing material, cut to fit perfectly. He lifted out a dagger.
"Here, Spock," Amanda said, "give me the box. I'll check them. Are you sure I'm not tying you up? If you could just get the trunk out ..." She took the weapons container from his hands, and looked it over with no shock or surprise. "She told me she was starting a collection."
She walked to a couple of well cushioned, russet chairs tucked in the corner on the opposite side of the room. Spock tore his eyes away and put them back inside the big container. He assured Amanda he could stay for a while longer, especially if he could use her computer station.
His mother said a trunk? With its padding, it filled up the crate from the front to the back, minus the slim distance for the small weapons collection. He stripped off the padding and stared with real appreciation.
The chest was carved, thin stone fused to a metal frame. He recognized the unique handiwork of an elderly artisan and thought the trunk was as much a work of art as anything else T'Gav made. Nomad Vulcans, riding the now extinct vlaittlya with loyal sehlats at their sides, emblazoned the front panel. They traveled off to the right side where they became the first Vulcan settlements followed by the rise of the great Houses on the back. Warriors marched off to the final panel on Spock's left, fighting bitterly while some reached up, climbing a mountain side to reach the trunk's lid. Here they lined up, weapons falling from their hands, as they followed their leader, the Vulcan male at the head of their line: Surak, hand stretching out to touch the large IDIC. If Spock allowed for such a thing as envy, he would envy Saavik for having this.
Uhura said to Amanda, "That's beautiful! Where did Saavik find it?"
The two women sat across from each other in the russet chairs, typical of the office furniture. The space was luxurious without sacrificing comfort. Awards and certificates of achievement hung on a wall near a large, thoroughly stocked bookshelf of both computer chits and actual paper antiques. Holographs of family and friends filled the end table standing between the two women.
Amanda asked Spock to put the trunk on the floor near her, and then answered Uhura's question. "It was a gift for -- well, the short answer is community service. In the way Vulcans view community service. The long answer is, unfortunately, a history lesson. Surak believed people should contribute to the community, to fulfill its needs. So everyone here must contribute a percentage of their time to community service. And the more affluent you are, the more time you owe. I'm sure it was Surak's way of telling the most powerful Houses they could keep what they had, but they must pay back the planet that gave it to them. Now, for Sarek and I, our work in the diplomatic corps repays a lot of our yearly community duty, but we usually owe a little more." She smiled. "And we get to claim someone who lives in the house over a certain period of time. So I claimed Saavik when she was staying with us years ago. T'Gav put in to the community for help while she recovered from surgery, I spoke to Saavik about it, and she took the duty." Amanda ran her hand over the exquisite carvings on the lid. "T'Gav made the trunk as a gift. She said Saavik deserved it for going beyond the work she was told to do. Spock, I made that report for you. It's on my desk."
He uploaded the file into his tricorder, but his focus stayed rooted on her as she opened the chest and began removing things. The Saavik he once knew didn't collect belongings. When had she started?
He picked up his mother's report and made notes into his own research of those Vulcans who had been most against the hybrids claiming their families. He imagined Sarek's displeasure that any Vulcan might be involved in anything like a prejudiced hate group. If some Vulcans lost their logic so badly... they had to be found. He started the long cross-checks that might connect these new names with the opportunity to act against Saavik and the others, and sent this same list to Kirk's attention.
He glanced up in time to see Amanda open a small cloth bag cinched closed at the top. Archernar's gold coin fel into her palm. She rubbed it with a soft cloth, wiping away the oils from her hands until its already bright surface gleamed. Spock remembered again how the Romulan looked and sounded as he held the coin to the light, murmuring, "Romulan gold. None finer in the galaxy. Give her this for me someday, to remind her of her worth." To which Spock had responded: "And someday perhaps she will appreciate it."
Had she? Is that why she kept it so carefully? Or was she protecting it for the day she would believe its message? The way Spock appreciated Archernar saying he helped them now despite his parting words years ago: "As the humans say, friend Spock, you owe me. And unlike Vulcans, I call in my debts."
Spock noted Archernar was putting Saavik above that.
Uhura whispered, "Oh, how lovely!"
Spock blinked. Amanda was unraveling a statue about a meter high, and judging by how his mother held it, solid stone.
"Thank you," Amanda said. "I gave it to her. I was... getting her interested in its symbolism. It's a figure from Pre-Reform myths."
Spock recognized it instantly. The San Synastraka, he thought just as his mother said it out loud.
"The best way to translate it would be The Twilight Eagle." She stroked the stone bird's throat and chest colored a dusty rose. "You see how its bottom is supposedly lit by a sunset. Its head and back are colored by the sky getting dark, including some of the light from the neighboring planet."
"T'Kuht," Uhura said.
Spock stopped to listen. Odd how he never thought the myth in connection with Saavik. But then, it never was one of his favorites.
"This is another story I'll try to shorten," Amanda said, warming to the explanation. "The myth says a species of bird split into two groups after falling out over hunting grounds. They evolved into the janjon and the synastraka. Let's say the owl and the eagle. Just like on Earth, the janjon, or owl, became nocturnal and is a symbol of wisdom. The eagle, of course, dominated the day. They avoided each other, and when they did meet, it was... bitter. And then, one owl and one eagle did meet, for a much better reason than fighting, and they had a child."
Spock looked at the statue, noticing the wider, more forward seated eyes of a janjon, the owl in Amanda's translation, in a head shaped like a synastraka, Amanda's eagle.
"The parents were killed by their people, leaving their orphan behind to make its way. Neither owl or eagle, but also both, flying at the time that's neither day or night, but a mixture."
"Twilight," Uhura said.
And, Spock always suspected, the dawn. Amanda sat the statue on the table, and the sunlight caught its colors, the blue black on the top carved feathers, a streak of silver blue from T'Kuht's growing light, and the rose on the belly. The hybrid bird's wings spread out for flight, its talons pushing off from its base of carved mountain rocks.
Very beautiful, he thought.
"I tried to get Spock interested in the myth when he was little." Amanda glanced over her shoulder. "It never worked."
He took the opportunity to walk over. "The symbolism fails in my case." He raised an eyebrow. "Humans and Vulcans are not descended from the same ancestor."
"So you said."
"I could also point out the fallacies of attaching the myth to the survivors of Hellguard."
"Spoilsport. Ruining my story with facts."
She held out the heavy statue and he placed it back in it's protective wrappings. He reached into the trunk and lifted out a piece of clothing. He let it unfold from his hands to the floor, his fingers brushing the rich fabric of black and white. Saavik's gown that she wore at the ShiKahr ceremony for the Federation President. He had looked up when they had announced her, and like seeing all her belongings, the sight of her had struck against the memory he had of her.
Saavik of Vulcan they called her. It meant she had gotten citizenship. She had glided in the door with the grace of a fawn, unknowingly turning a few heads when she came in, stylishly gowned and a new air about her that Uhura now commented on to Amanda.
"I always like seeing someone learn their own appeal. It's amazing the change it makes in them."
How different she had looked: mature, a new line of nobility, the beginning of regal elegance. Her head held with dignity and her bearing rivaling the most stately Vulcans there.
He glanced back to the holographs next to his mother, and found the one that earlier caught his eyes: Amanda and Saavik at the reception. Amanda was smiling, her hand hovering over the younger woman's shoulder, clearly proud while Saavik looked out as if suspicious of the photographer's motives. Amanda had moved the orbit of people around her, at times introducing Saavik, easing her into a world as foreign to her as any alien planet she had stepped on.
Amanda's mouth quirked in response to Uhura's comment. "So do I, except that hasn't quite happened here. Saavik thinks it's the dress. You should have seen her when I picked her up from the couture. They knew what they had on their hands with her, but she was still clueless." She shook her head. "One of these days, I'm really going to have to push some real world sense into that magnificent head. Although maybe it's better if I don't. In its way, it's charming."
Spock carefully repacked the gown.
"And teaching her to dance?" Uhura asked. She was smiling back at Amanda.
Vulcans didn't dance, not in the way humans meant it. It was an art form and an important part of many ceremonies, but not a casual pastime. Perhaps it was the ceremonial aspect that made some presidential aide think it was all right to ask Saavik... to the President's favorite waltz. He saw the debate go on in her mind to reject the unwanted advance or avoid a possible diplomatic incident.
"Spock!" Amanda had hissed, propelling him to intercede while she and Sarek distracted any older Vulcans who might disapprove. He had searched for Kirk or McCoy, better equipped, in his opinion, for such a thing as this, but they were too far away. Without wasting any more time, he swept in between Saavik and her misguided suitor, politely saying she was otherwise engaged. He led them out of the dance as soon as possible, apologizing to her for the whole situation...
And remembering how he shared the rhythmic movements of the waltz with her.
"Oh, that," Amanda said. "I just wanted to take some of the military stiffness out of her bearing. No offense to the Starfleet Academy."
"None taken," Uhura said. "I agree with you. It's a shame how--"
Their conversation filled the background as Spock discovered a small keepsake box made of rich, red wood inside the trunk. Opening it to see if anything was damaged, he found a printed letter, something unusual in this computer age. Curious. What was so important that she took the trouble to print it out on paper and then preserve it with sealant against any damage? Perhaps her citizenship? He opened it to scan the first line; the first line was so unbelievable, he read the whole thing. His letter to her -- this was the letter Valeris had sent to Saavik supposedly from him. The contents sent him racing for the door.
"Spock?" his mother called.
He spared only a few words over his shoulder as he left for the Academy Hospital.
He found Saavik in her hospital room, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She wore a short sleeved, red and white tunic over soft gray pants, and was barefoot. Something about her bare feet tweaked at his memory, but he couldn't grasp it. He could and did take in the sight of her, even as he realized he had no idea how to begin. Finally, he had to say something because she had looked up from what she was reading when he came into the room and now stared at him.
After faltering in silence, he managed to say, "Your healers report you are leaving Phase II. However, if my presence disturbs you--"
Distant, she replied politely as if merely to an acquaintance. "You do not 'disturb' me. My healers are quite correct. I am merely tired."
He was uncomfortable. A wall still existed between them, made up of everything that had happened. He expected it to be there, but he needed it gone if he was to discuss what brought him here.
Suddenly realizing she addressed a superior officer, she darted to her feet and stood at attention. That was as uncomfortable as the wall between them, and he waved it away. Still, she slipped on shoes before sitting down again.
Saavik watched him as he crossed to the chair in front of her bed and placed the letter on the small table next to it. She showed no reaction to any of this. "May I ask your purpose in coming here?"
Not knowing the words, Spock's fingers moved on the paper. "Your personal belongings arrived from the Aerfen."
She nodded, saying nothing. Not knowing what else to do, he held the paper up wordlessly, letting the action ask his question for him. Only she answered with her own question. "You went through my belongings?"
He nodded and sat. "Amanda thought it best. She wanted to ensure your possessions arrived safely."
Some of the barrier around Saavik melted. "That is kind of her." Her eyes returned to the paper in his hand. "And you read it?"
"I-- yes." The startling contents inside had made him forget the violation of her privacy. "You went to a great deal of trouble to have this on paper. I was curious as to what was so important. That reason does not excuse my behavior. I apologize."
"I should not have made an accusation for such a minor point. I apologize as well." She glanced at him surreptitiously, and for the first time, spoke without formality. "You didn't save my supposed letter to you?"
He looked away, folding his hands in front of him. But he was asking her personal questions; he couldn't be unfair and not answer hers. "I... removed everything I had of you."
Turned away, he did not see her slump against the wall behind her bed with her eyes squeezed shut. By the time he dared look over, she was once more controlled and formal. "Your action was logical. The past is the past. In fact, I did much the same with what I had of you with the exception of that paper. The rest amounted to our letters. I would have returned your old tricorder, in the event you wanted it, but it was lost on the Grissom."
He tried to remember why destroying what he had of her had seemed logical. Valeris had originally suggested it, but Kirk had agreed with the idea, telling Spock he didn't need the reminders. "I was much the same as you. I only had our letters and a message you once wrote." Spock nogo. My name is Saavik.
He touched the paper again, knowing the movement would bring her attention to it. "And this?"
"I preserved it for the same reason you have your Chagall painting. To remind me that nothing lasts forever."
He had no words for a reply for a long minute. In the end, he couldn't answer that statement. He asked instead the most important question in his mind since he had read that letter. "Is it true?"
Softly, "What it refers to?"
"Yes."
A pause. "Yes, it's true."
"Why didn't you tell me? About you and I... and Genesis..."
"First, because you did not remember me at all. Later, you had no memory of Genesis, and I had no wish to disturb you."
"You would not 'disturb' me."
She reacted to her own words, but then, "No? Are you so sure? You cannot even say the words."
"Do I need to say them? Would they have made you discuss this with me years ago?"
"No, I do not need the words. Spock..."
"Perhaps you cannot say them either."
"It is difficult to find the right words. Spock, I did not think you would want to know. My telling you served no purpose and might... create the exact barrier we experience now."
The sight of her struggle, so much like his own, bridged the wall between them. She was ill equipped to discuss this as he was. But somehow, that leveled things enough so he could face her now.
"I wish I had known, for many reasons. Not the least is, I... do... have some memory of Genesis."
She suddenly leaned forward. "You do?"
"Yes, they are incomplete, hazy, but I have them and I did not understand why I had such images of..." He stopped, and then spoke again, as softly as she had. "It was a cave."
"Yes." He had no word for the light now in her eyes.
"And a storm?"
"Yes."
"My world became chaotic and painful. You came to me, soothed all of that way, and then..." He fought to say more, cross the chasm between them with half-formed memories. But she was right; he was always terrible at this.
"Yes. And then."
She was leaving it be, but he didn't want to. He wanted her to force the issue.
She spoke to herself. "I knew your short and long term memory were functioning. But I thought the memories were destroyed at the fal tor pan." Before he could ask, she said to him, "Did you not ever wonder why you had such memories? As hazy as they are? Surely you realized the biological implications of your maturing."
"I remembered and was told of how violent the maturation was, coinciding with Genesis' own disruption. I thought the violence ended the pon farr--" He stopped to raise an eyebrow, pointing out he could say the words, "--cycle as it did in my combat with Captain Kirk during my failed ceremony with T'Pring."
Her eyebrows shot together. "Let us not discuss T'Pring. You already know my thoughts on her."
"Vividly." And he raised his eyebrow higher.
She leaned against a raised knee. "The violent maturation did end the later other cycles. The cycles themselves were so rapid, if the Genesis destruction hadn't ended them, you would have died. Your features aged in seconds before my eyes, and I could do nothing to help you then. At one point, you--" Her head dropped and she swallowed.
He waited, but she didn't continue. "At one point, I?"
She raised her head. These last days of Phase II had taken their toll. Exhaustion was showing around her eyes and mouth, and in her eyes themselves, a deep strain weighed her down. "The details are unnecessary."
She was hiding something and he didn't know why. He thought the details very necessary. A part of his life that he thought was a dream was a sudden reality. She was the only one who knew it and could give it back to him. Why continue hiding it? Unless...
The so evident strain caused by the faux pon farr cycle she had just endured... The cycle may not be the real thing, but it was extremely close. Perhaps the talk and his proximity were beginning to disturb her. Was that why she watched him so carefully?
He got to his feet, burying his wanting to stay. He imagined he saw it reflected in her expression. "As you say, the details are unnecessary. I do not need them to know my debt to y--"
"You owe me no debt. It is I who owe--"
He could interrupt as well as she could. "The moment of our first meeting, you saved my life. You did so again, more than once, and now there is Genesis."
She wasn't looking at him and the tension somehow came back between them. Why? What wasn't he seeing?
"As you wish," she said. "The past is the past."
A moment ago, their talk held such promise of a renewal between them. He didn't know how he lost it. He turned to go, but stopped at the door. Over his shoulder, he spoke carefully, "Perhaps that is not true. You did face Valeris. For my sake."
Silence. It lasted for so long, he took his first step out when he heard her. "Confronting Valeris was an action I needed to do. I should have done so earlier, when I first saw the problem she was."
He spun back to her, but she saw his objection and answered it before he spoke it. "No, I did not see her betrayal or the low depths of which she was capable. If I had, I never would have believed that supposed message from you. At least, I might have questioned it." The pain from the letter, the one back in his hand, haunted the back of her eyes and she turned her face from him again. Once more, she spoke before he could. "I did see, however, that she was not the person I first thought and I unwisely let it go. The other night when I faced her was long overdue."
"So you will not allow me to thank you for this as well?"
He saw her struggle. "One does not thank logic."
"Yes... of course. So I have heard." Perhaps it was better she wasn't looking at him. He wasn't sure he could face her with his next words. "Do you want to know the content of your letter to me?"
Her eyes swung sharply up to meet his and he had no choice but to see the ravaged expression in them. "I do not want to know what I could possibly have said to make you destroy everything you had of me. I already know what it took for me to do the same."
Sharp pain stabbed him unmercifully, the pain in what she said and the memory of receiving that letter. All the days that followed it where the empty place once filled by her grieved for the open wound. Until Valeris came to him, quietly easing away the memories, giving him acceptance, loyalty, asking what she could do to help.
"Did you..." He turned to face her for this next question. "Did you honestly believe I would reject you for this? I would not."
"And yet, you believed I would reject you for any reason. I would not."
"Saavik." Of all the words he knew, in all the different languages, he didn't know what ones to say now.
He stayed quiet too long. Saavik's expression closed off as if he had said his goodbye. She surprised him by holding out a hand. "Spock?"
He must have looked confused because she reached out a bit further with her hand. "The letter?" she asked.
He saw now that she was pointing to the paper he had brought with him. Still confused, he gave it to her. "What will you do with it?"
"Return it to its box," she said simply.
"Return it?" He blinked. "Why?"
"It is still my reminder. All things end."
He was stunned again into silence, and had no chance for recovery. A petite figure glided through the door: T'Ahiyya, the nurse. She glanced back and forth between patient and visitor before settling on the latter. "Spock, you were allowed five minutes for your visit. You have far exceeded that allotment. I need to see Saavik. Alone." And without further word or by touching him, she masterfully whisked him from the room.
He stood in the hall, Saavik's last words echoing. All things end. Like her life in approximately fifteen months.
That did not mean he couldn't try to delay the ending. And the past did not have to stay in the past.
Across the way, Jdehn leaned in her doorway. When she saw him notice her, she grinned sardonically. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."
He realized he had spoken something of his thoughts out loud." Are you well?" he asked with sincere concern.
The sarcasm left her smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just waiting for another barrage of tests. Tests, tests, and more tests. I don't know what they hope to find different. What's this list you want?"
He explained the message he had sent, requesting a list of names of anyone who might have infected her, but his mind stayed elsewhere.
"But I can't even remember everybody I ever met in the past few years!"
"You must. Remember, whoever is responsible could have passed the disease through injection, inhalation, or ingestation."
"Oh, brilliant! This is impossible! If it wasn't you doing the asking, I'd tell them what they could do with their list."
"I would think you would oblige anyone who was trying to save your life."
He lifted an eyebrow, waited, and was rewarded by Jdehn's laugh. "Furthermore, we are speaking of someone who would know of your past or is associated with a group that is anti-Romulan."
She snorted. "Hell, I'm on that list."
Another voice sounded behind him: tall, slim Arik, his arms bearing his weight on the door frame, back in his own room with his and Jdehn's Phase II cycle ended. "Is Saavik awake?"
Jdehn teased him, but Spock caught the note of underlying tenderness. "Saavik's the nurse's first victim. You can talk to her later."
Spock cocked an eyebrow at Arik. "Is there some way I may help?"
Arik shook his head. "Private." Those restless eyes suddenly shifted down the hall to the approaching Tu'ong and then sharply on Spock. "You leave soon."
Leave? When I have finally-- Spock looked back at Saavik's door. All things end. His back suddenly straightened, and, with determination, pushed the weight off his shoulders. So they do. But at times, I can choose the ending and I reject this one. The only thing remaining of their past was themselves, and what they made of the present. That he would keep.
"No, Arik. I plan to stay and help if I can."
"Good." Arik's eyes stayed on Spock even as he gave himself over to the next batch of tests.
"Healer Tu'ong," Spock said, interrupting the genetics doctor from her patient. "May I use your office?" With her approval, he went to her nearby rooms and sent a communications to Starfleet Command requesting that he and Dr. Leonard McCoy be allowed to stay on Vulcan. He hesitated after his albeit limited description of the emergency here, but no more could be said. They were needed here. He added only one more line, in case his word wasn't enough. If Starfleet Command needed further confirmation for this request, he wrote, T'Pau of Vulcan was willing to speak on their behalf.
The confirmation came more quickly than he expected. He and McCoy were assigned to Vulcan as long as they were needed. It went without saying, the retired Kirk would stay with them.
A face darted a glance to make sure Spock was occupied at the computer. He listened while the request for more time was made to Starfleet. His back muscles eased when no words were made about his identity.
So close! When Spock had passed him in the corridor, looking right at him, he thought he had been discovered. Almost trapped! But no, the Vulcan didn't penetrate the disguise -- no one could -- and had moved off for Tu'ong's office.
Misguided Spock... good intentions but placed on the wrong cause.
Nurses were in with Saavik, but they would clear soon. Meanwhile, Jdehn and Arik were available, paying no attention to anything but their conversation. Then Mekhai, Saavik, and somehow, the Phase III patients and the stasis units.