Closure, chapter 2
Spock had just risen from the breakfast table when he heard the computer in his study signal an incoming call. The house was very quiet. T'Val had taken T'Mya into Atlanta to run some errands, and he had intended to weed T'Val's garden and after that catch up on the work he had missed yesterday. However, the signal's tone indicated that the message was coming across on official channels and that it was urgent, so it appeared that work was going to catch up with him, instead.
He seated himself at his desk. "Computer, accept call."
The screen brightened to reveal the face of a young Andorian woman with the seal of the Federation Council behind her.
"This is Spock," said Spock.
"Ambassador Spock, please hold for the Federation President."
Spock raised an eyebrow when the screen grew dark. He knew that the President was vacationing in Costa Rica, so for him to be contacting Spock early on a Saturday morning meant that whatever had prompted this call was certain to be fascinating.
The screen brightened again. "Mr. President," said Spock.
"Ambassador Spock, I was contacted this morning by the Romulan High Command."
Spock raised both eyebrows this time. "Indeed?"
"I will be brief. They informed me that a nearby star will soon become a supernova, and when it does, it will consume the entire Romulan system. They are desperate, and they have reached out to us for help."
Spock looked away from the screen as he attempted to digest the enormity of this news. Romulus was a densely populated planet with a wide gulf between the people of privilege and everyone else. His past dealings with the people of privilege had generally been less than favorable, but he possessed a great fondness for all of the others. He had spent four years undercover on Romulus with the goal of reunifying the Romulan and Vulcan peoples, and although he had been forced to leave before his task was finished – he had actually not expected any other result over such a short term – he knew that he had planted a seed that would someday sprout. The young people he had met were destined to become tomorrow's leaders… or they had that potential. Was their potential never to be realized? He was filled with a sudden, deep sorrow at the likelihood that this would be the case.
He was careful not to convey the turmoil of his emotions when he faced the screen again. "Which star is it?"
"Gamma Epsilon Five."
"How much time do they have?"
"They estimate no more than three months."
"Three months," he echoed, shaking his head. "This is very little time. Am I to assume that they have attempted to resolve this problem on their own and failed, since we are only now learning of it?"
"Correct. They have begun evacuating the planet, but events are progressing much more rapidly than they had anticipated, and they believe that 87 percent of the population will still be there when it happens."
He closed his eyes briefly. "Mr. President, we must provide any assistance that is in our capacity to provide."
"That is my thought exactly. We must forget the enmity we have always shared with the Romulans and do whatever we can to help. I have already ordered all available transport ships to Romulus to assist in the evacuations, but you and I both know that the impact of this will be negligible."
"Any life saved is a life saved. I commend you for taking this action. However, we must think on a grander scale now. We must stop that star from going nova."
The president smiled enigmatically. "I had hoped that you would say something like that. They asked for you specifically, by the way. I, myself, know that you have a unique set of skills as both a scientist and a diplomat, but they know only that they trust you."
"I am honored that they believe me up to the task. Now I will attempt to prove that their faith is justified, but I caution you that nothing has ever been done on this scale before."
"Believe me, Ambassador, I am very aware of that, but I have faith in you, as well. My aide will send you a communique with the names of your contacts on Romulus. Keep me informed."
"I shall."
The president terminated the call, and Spock leaned back in his seat. To remedy this situation, he could think of only two options – halting the supernova process or eliminating the star entirely. He was not aware of any technology that could halt a supernova. Many scientists had tried, but nuclear fusion and gravity were two of the most basic and immutable properties of the universe itself. He did not know which of these was causing this particular supernova, but it did not matter, for the result would be the same.
This left only the second option, eliminating the star entirely. The problem with this approach was that using an explosive to destroy a star would be just as damaging to surrounding space as the supernova itself would have been.
Unless…
What if instead of exploding the star, they found a way to implode the star? He had read something just last week in a scientific journal about research underway on Vulcan that could conceivably allow him to do just that.
"Computer," he said. "Contact Telar at the Vulcan Science Academy. Indicate that the matter is urgent."
…..
It was late in the afternoon by the time Spock finally left his study. He had heard T'Val and T'Mya return several hours ago, but they had left him alone as was their habit when he was in his study. He walked out to the yard to find T'Val taking care of the chores he had intended to complete this morning. She immediately stopped working and studied him carefully.
"What is it, Spock? You look as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."
He sat heavily at the small table under the tree near the garden. "You do not know how accurate your observation actually is."
Frowning, she took off her gardening gloves and joined him at the table. "What is it?"
"I have had quite an eventful day. The Federation president contacted me this morning and told me that Romulus will be consumed by a supernova in three months if nothing changes. They have asked for the Federation's assistance."
"Oh, no. This is horrible. Can anything be done to help them?"
"The president has already sent ships to aide in the evacuation, but the Romulans estimate that only 13% of the population will make it off-planet in time. There is another option, however. I have been in touch with the Vulcan Science Academy, and we have developed a plan to use red matter to turn the star into a black hole before it is too late."
"Red matter? What is that?"
"It is a newly developed substance that collapses the empty space within an atomic structure. It has only been used in small, controlled experiments at this stage, but the implications are immense. Theoretically, when used within a massive body such as a star, it would initiate a chain reaction that would ultimately result in the gravitational forces required to produce a black hole."
"This sounds very promising. How will it be delivered to the star?"
"I have learned of the prototype for a new ship that is small, fast, sturdy, and highly maneuverable. It is a one-man vessel that was intended for use in studies of high warp speeds, but with some modifications it can be outfitted with the containment field required to transport red matter."
"Cannot the red matter simply be delivered via a photon torpedo? It seems to me that a starship could do this with the support of a full crew and with technology that already exists."
"No, that would not work. The force of the solar wind would make it impossible to guarantee that a photon torpedo would hit its mark, and of course a miss would be devastating. In addition, a starship is not responsive enough. The variables associated with a supernova are wildly unpredictable. It will require a small and agile ship, and a pilot with the scientific background to adjust the calculations on the fly, so to speak, and the navigational background to pilot such a technologically advanced ship."
She gave him a long look. "I do not like where you are going with this."
"I am leaving for Vulcan tomorrow, T'Val. There is much work to be done, and it will require every bit of expertise that we can bring to bear."
"Please tell me that you are going to assist in the preparations and leave the rest of it to someone else."
He looked down at his hands momentarily before meeting her eyes again. "I will be piloting the ship and delivering the red matter myself. I possess the unique blend of experience that is essential to this mission. I can simultaneously pilot the ship and process the calculations. In addition, the Romulans asked specifically for me. How can I tell them no?"
"By simply saying 'no'," she said with surprising anger in her voice. "Have you not done enough for them?"
"They will die if we do nothing. Is that what you want?"
"No, of course not. But they have taken so much from you, Spock. You were gone for four years, before. Four years! You missed so much of Skonn's childhood. You weren't here when Leonard McCoy died, you weren't here when your father died, and worst of all, you weren't here when Michael died. Saavik needed you, and you were gone."
"I know, and I will always regret that I was not here to help her through that, but she understood that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one. So it is in this case. At any rate, I will not be gone for long. In three months, this will be over and I will come home."
"It is dangerous, Spock. I was so afraid that you would not return before, and now I must live with that same fear again. I cannot bear it. Please reconsider. If not for yourself, then for me and your children. Skonn is grown, but T'Mya needs her father."
He leaned forward and put his hands on either side of her face. "There is very little danger to me. I have confidence that we can safely contain the red matter and that the vessel will allow me to fly close, deliver the red matter, and be back in warp and far away before the star implodes. I will be back, I promise you."
She put her hands over his hands and closed her eyes. "You cannot promise such a thing."
"I will be back."
She did not reply, so he gently tightened the pressure on the sides of her face and said, "T'Val, look at me."
Finally, she complied, and he repeated, "I will be back. I will make certain of it."
She nodded, and they rose together to return to the house.
…..
So now he stood in the back of the auditorium and remembered those last moments before he had left. He had picked up his small daughter and told her to behave while he was gone, and he had held up two fingers to his wife for one last tender embrace. The concern in her eyes battled with the obvious pride she felt in what he was doing, and although he had experienced the usual surge of emotion at saying goodbye, his mind had already been on the task ahead, and once he was out the door his thoughts did not stay with them. Now they were all he could think about.
He could go back, just as he had promised to T'Val on that fateful day. He could look in her eyes again. He could hold his small daughter, and he could admire his strong and accomplished son. He could pretend to be affronted when Saavik teased him, and he could stand shoulder to shoulder with her and experience the satisfaction of knowing that time marched on in the lives of her child, her child's children, and beyond.
But it would be selfish.
He was responsible for everything that was happening right here and right now, both the good and the bad. He had already assumed the role of leader among the surviving Vulcans, and although there were other capable leaders among them, it would be a betrayal to leave them now. Also, by destroying Vulcan, Nero had eliminated the scientists who would have eventually invented red matter. As a result, Romulus was doomed. It was likely that he, himself, would not still be alive to help the Romulans, but ironically, the reunification he had striven so hard to accomplish would now inevitably happen. Neither the Vulcans nor the Romulans could afford for it not to happen. He would have to ensure that there was someone who would see it through in his place.
He thought back to his surreal conversation with himself this morning. He had told his younger self to do what felt right and stay in Starfleet. At the time, he had not considered that there could be opposing alternatives that both felt right. Now, however, he knew that even though it would feel exceedingly right to be with his family again, it also felt right to help the Vulcans establish their new world. At any rate, he had essentially promised his younger self that he would help the Vulcans, thus freeing young Spock to follow his heart.
Perhaps this was the sense of finality humans so often called 'closure'. His own existence was drawing to a close, but his younger self's existence was just beginning. There was so much more that he had wanted to tell his younger self, but he had merely instructed him to do what felt right and stopped with that. It was the most crucial advice he could provide, at any rate. He had spent much of his own life denying his heart, but perhaps his younger self would come to realize more quickly that in the end, a heart was the only thing worth following. If young Spock did what felt right, the rest would unfold as it should.
Below, Jim approached Admiral Pike and accepted command of the Enterprise. This Jim no longer needed him, and although it was tempting to seek Jim out and spend more time with him, he knew that he must step aside. He had already interfered enough in this timeline, with both his involvement with Jim and his advice to himself.
"Thrusters on full," he murmured, before turning away and leaving the auditorium.
He exited the building by the back entrance, and as he headed toward the hangar where he had spent the morning supervising the outfitting of the ships that would take the Vulcan refugees to their new home, he met the crowd of cadets, instructors, and Starfleet personnel who had departed the ceremony from the front entrance. He saw many familiar faces. They nodded politely at him, but of course they showed no sign that they recognized him as anything other than one of the few surviving Vulcans. This was the sort of recognition he had been receiving from everyone over the last few days, and he knew that he would have to become accustomed to seeing the expressions of sympathy, pain, and shared outrage on the faces of everyone he encountered from now on.
He went around the corner of the building and stopped suddenly. There, standing at a crosswalk, was his younger self talking to a small, dark-skinned woman with long straight hair. The woman's back was to him, and he was surprised at the hair and the slimmer physique, but he felt his chest seize up with the realization that this could be only one person.
"Nyota," he whispered.
In his own timeline, he had not known her at the Academy. He had already been in space for some time before she appeared one morning on the transporter pad with another young lieutenant who had just been assigned to the Enterprise. On that day, it did not occur to him in his wildest imaginings what they would eventually become to one another, but he had been struck by her composure, her serenity, her obvious intelligence, and her undeniable beauty.
The woman on the sidewalk did not touch the man she was with, but she stood very close to him, and the way she looked up at him spoke volumes. In his own timeline, he and Nyota had lost so many years. It had taken them a long time to realize what they could mean to one other, and then even longer to commit to spending the rest of their lives together. In the process, they had inflicted unnecessary pain on each other, and they had missed their window of opportunity to have children.
Nyota and his younger self said their goodbyes, and she turned around and walked in his own direction. She looked at him curiously as she went by, and although he couldn't prevent an illogical rush of dismay at the utter lack of warmth and recognition in her eyes, his heart felt as if it would leap out of his side at the opportunity to be so close to her again. She swept past, and then she was gone. He watched her recede down the sidewalk.
When he turned back, he saw that his younger self had not noticed him, for it was obvious that he only had eyes for Nyota. When she was out of sight, young Spock headed away in the opposite direction.
Spock remembered his vow to himself that he would not interfere any further. He remembered how satisfied he had felt that events would unfold as they should. But he remembered how much Nyota had treasured her family. He and she might not have undertaken the formalities that would have made Saavik officially their daughter, but Nyota had poured all of her love into the only child she was ever to be given, nevertheless.
In this reality there would be no Saavik. It was difficult for him to comprehend a universe without her, but the intersection of Vulcan and Romulan that had produced her would not take place, for there would be no Vulcan science mission to encounter the Romulans at the military outpost. In turn, she would not give birth to a Vulcan/Romulan/human child who would then begat his own children, one dark and one fair, each perfect in his or her own way and cherished by Nyota until the day she died.
He came to a decision. Walking quickly down a sidewalk that ran parallel to the path his younger self had taken, he watched to make sure he did not lose sight of the shiny dark head that was visible over the crowd leaving the ceremony. The younger man took a sidewalk that branched further away, and Spock had to adjust his trajectory to compensate. He was receiving a few odd looks now, because he was almost running. He would have to be careful not to appear out of breath when he reached his goal.
Finally, young Spock entered the hangar where they had talked this morning and where Spock had actually been going in the first place. He relaxed, for he knew that he had cornered his quarry. He would be able to approach himself calmly and say what it was he had decided to say.
He entered the building and saw the younger man walking slowly down the long aisle between the landing bays, his fingers dancing across the surface of a padd as he inspected each ship being outfitted for the trip. Spock cut across the back of the bay so he could be standing casually by one of the ships when the younger man arrived.
He watched out of the corner of his eye and turned when the time was right. Feigning surprise, he said, "We meet again, Spock."
The other man nodded. "I see that preparations are proceeding on schedule."
"Yes, they are. I will be departing tomorrow for the new Vulcan home world. There is much to be done before the arrival of the refugees."
"In that case, as we have already taken our leave of one another, farewell."
The younger man took a step back as if to leave, but Spock halted him with an upraised hand.
"One more piece of advice, if I may."
"Of course."
Spock clasped his hands behind his back and moved closer. "Just moments ago as I crossed campus, I happened to see you standing with Lieutenant Uhura. In my reality, she and I did not know one another at the Academy, so I was fascinated to see that you are already acquainted."
Obviously caught off guard at the turn the conversation had taken, the other man said, "Ah, I was her instructor in Subspace Transmission Physics. She was my most outstanding student."
"I do not doubt it. Eventually, she will become one of the best communications officers Starfleet has ever known. Indeed, in my timeline, she was very fulfilled in both her career and her personal life. But she did always have one regret."
Spock remembered that day in the doctor's office when they had sat together and heard the news. "I won't tell you that it's impossible," the doctor had said, "But it's very unlikely. The difficulty you've already been through with the procedures that have failed is just the tip of the iceberg. We could keep trying, but I have to be honest. The personal toll would be extreme, and I believe that the result would be the same. Do you really want to keep subjecting yourselves to that?" Nyota had turned to Spock with a single tear rolling down her cheek, and they had both known that they were done. They would not keep trying.
He was brought back to the conversation when the other man said, "Her one regret – what was it?"
Spock took a heavy breath. "That she waited too late to have children."
The other man's eyes widened before he looked down at the floor. "I see," he said. After a long moment, he met Spock's eyes again. "And your advice is…?"
"Do not let her."
The other man did not reply, clearly thinking about what he had been told. Finally, Spock said, "Now we shall say our farewells again. Goodbye, Spock."
"Goodbye. And… good luck."
Spock allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up at the echo of his parting words from their discussion this morning, and he nodded with satisfaction as he watched the other man walk away.
There. Now he had closure.
He looked up to see his father standing with the Vulcan elders at the side of the cargo bay, so he headed in that direction. His old life was over. It was time to find out where his new life would take him.
End story
The next story in this timeline is "Beyond the Sand"