If it hadn't been for the instruction that Spock had recently received at Gol he didn't think he would have been able to sit through the medical examinations that succeeded his waking up. They were apparently endless. The amount that he could see now should have been a wonder to him but the extra examinations of his eyes were just an added annoyance on top of the regular assessments of how he was recovering from Alunan's virus.

'Commander Spock, if you can just hold still for a few moments longer,' the ophthalmologist was telling him.

Spock resisted a sigh. He was sitting in a place somewhere a few floors and corridors away from the room he had woken up in, while Dr Zhao carefully shone lights into his eyes and murmured things under her breath. He thought that perhaps if he just allowed this one examination he could finally discharge himself. After all, the hospital could not keep him against his will. On the other hand, it seemed that all doctors had the same underhand characteristics of Dr McCoy, and they were managing to keep him here despite his wishes.

'This virus has worked a wonder,' the doctor murmured, bending closer to his face again. He could smell her breath and a fruity scent from her hair, but he could also see blurred features that he was struggling hard to resolve into something that made sense. He had spent so long in blindness that his mind was having trouble reconciling the blurred images before him.

'Do you know, Commander Spock, I think that with at most a couple of short treatments we will be able to restore your sight,' she said.

Spock worked hard on controlling the reaction that sentence elicited from him. It was something that was hardly to be believed.

'That may be so, but I hardly have time at the moment,' he replied, keeping his voice very steady. 'I am needed – '

'Dr Badami warned me about that,' the woman told him with a smile in her voice. 'There is a large team of people working on the remedy for this virus, Commander Spock, and you are not fit to step in as part of it. You were brought down here in a wheelchair, remember?'

'Because the good doctor would not allow me to walk,' Spock said. It was true that he did not feel well, but he was suppressing the weakness and was confident that he would be of great use in the hospital lab.

'Because you are not well enough to walk,' the doctor corrected him.

'I assure you – ' Spock began.

'It's not me you need to assure,' she cut across him. 'I'm only concerned with your eyes. I don't have any responsibility for your fitness otherwise. All I want you to do for now is hold still so I can do a proper examination and then perhaps have a go at shifting some of those cells.'

Spock sighed. It was frustrating being so helpless when he needed to be helping. He kept still and let the doctor continue her examination, but he reached out with his mind, trying to locate Christine somewhere there. There was nothing but a feeling of chaos in response to his reaching out. She was asleep, it seemed, and dreaming feverishly.

'Now then,' the doctor said, cutting into his concentration. 'I'm going to have a go with the disruptor laser. The sooner we do this the better, while the cells in your eyes are still reacting to the virus. I can't predict how successful it will be if I wait until you're virus free. Do you consent to the procedure?

'Do what you must,' Spock said, then realised how ungracious that must sound to human ears. 'I apologise,' he said, admitting, 'I am distracted.'

'I quite understand,' the doctor murmured. 'Now, I'm going to apply some topical anaesthetic to your eyes and begin. Your head will be held still in a frame while I do it. Are you comfortable?'

'Quite,' Spock nodded.

'All right, I'm lowering the frame now,' she said, and Spock felt and half saw an apparatus being pulled down to fit about his head. The doctor tightened soft clamps at his temples and asked, 'Is that comfortable?'

'It is acceptable,' Spock murmured.

'All right. If you open your eyes wide I'll apply the anaesthetic in a spray. Ready?'

'Yes,' Spock said, and forced himself not to blink as a cold spray hit his eyes.

'It should take effect immediately. If you have any pain let me know and I'll stop. And I mean that, Commander. Tell me if there's pain, because it might indicate damage to something other than the intrusive cells. Clear?'

'Perfectly clear,' Spock said, wondering if the woman had had the privilege of treating Vulcans before. She certainly seemed to understand his motivations and reactions, which was both useful and rather consternating depending on what Spock wanted to do. Perhaps with a doctor less understanding of Vulcans he would be out of the room by now and in the lab, helping to work on a cure or vaccine for this virus. However, at least her medical care was sound.

'There will be a certain amount of bright light. I need it to guide the beam,' she said. 'Turning on – now.'

Spock fought the powerful urge to blink as a reddish light abruptly struck the back of his left retina. There was discomfort, but no pain. He was careful to monitor the sensations from the treatment rather than simply suppressing them. It was a very curious experience. When McCoy had applied treatment before he had experienced the odd uncomfortable, almost itching sensation of the beam touching his eyes, but there had been no appreciable change in his vision. It was only sensor readings that had told him that the treatment was having any effect. Now, however, he could see, actually see, movement in his vision, dark, amorphous shapes drifting across his pupil, it seemed, out of focus and moving like a deep sea creature.

'This is going wonderfully,' the doctor said, the glee in her voice sounding like that of an excited teenager. 'Commander Spock, these cells are just disintegrating completely. This Dr Alunan certainly knew what he was doing.'

Spock resisted reply in case the movement of his jaw also moved the rest of his head. But he considered Dr Alunan and his achievement. It was extremely regretful that the man had died, brought down by his own invention. His insight had been extraordinary, though, in creating a virus that was capable of targeting these particular rare and tenacious cells and causing them to break down sufficiently to become vulnerable to the disruptor treatment.

'I'm going to wash some saline over your eye, and I want you to blink, Commander,' the doctor said.

'Go ahead,' Spock replied. Although he did not feel the liquid touching his anaesthetised eye, he did feel the warm water trickling down his face and he blinked hard, seeing the light in the room coruscate and brighten and dim as he did. 'Fascinating,' he murmured.

The doctor came close again, dabbing a towel at his face to dry away the streaming saline.

'Let me give that eye a scan,' she said. There was the soft warble of a scanner, and she murmured, 'Commander Spock, this shows one hundred percent of the cells removed in that eye.'

Spock stiffened, blinking again and straining to make sense of what was before him. How could he be sighted in that eye and not be able to tell?

'I cannot see with any clarity,' he said in a calm voice. What he could see was light and a lot of shade and blurred edges.

'No, you won't be able to,' the doctor told him, putting a hand briefly on his shoulder. 'There's a certain amount of damage to the lens. That will either need to be repaired or you'll need the lens replacing. You'll also need to readjust to vision. You've been blind for quite a while now. It's not going to be a miracle of scales falling from the eyes.'

Spock acknowledged a certain amount of disappointment in his mind, and put it aside.

Kaiidth.

He let that word settle through his mind. It was not often that he thought in Vulcan words while he was amongst humans, but there was no direct translation for kaiidth. What was, was, and if there was no miraculous restoration of his sight, so be it. He could do nothing but accept it. All would be resolved in the end.

'All right, I'm going to tackle your right eye now,' the doctor told him. 'Are you ready for me to begin?'

'Quite ready,' Spock said, beginning to nod but being reminded by the firm hold on his temples that his head was immobile.

The odd and uncomfortable feeling set up again in his right eye as the doctor focussed the beam on his pupil. Again he saw the odd distortions in light and shade, the movement of small black masses across his vision like the migration of far away creatures.

'Saline again, Commander,' the doctor said brightly, and he submitted to the warm douche of water that trickled down his face and into his collar. 'And blink.'

Again, he blinked hard, almost wincing as a light flashed near him.

'Sorry, that was bright, wasn't it?' the doctor asked. 'I want to have a proper look into both those eyes, though. The scan shows no cells in that right eye either. Technically, Commander Spock, you are no longer blind because of those opaque cells.'

Spock's heart leapt momentarily before he controlled the reaction. It felt like a small explosion inside him and he felt the instinctive twitch of the corners of his mouth before he clamped down on that so-human response. His hands gripped hard on the arms of the chair, though, and he felt the soft foam fabric they were made of suddenly give and tear under his fingers.

'I seem to have inadvertently damaged your chair. I apologise,' he said quickly, releasing the arms.

Dr Zhao laughed in response, a bright laugh that reminded Spock of Christine.

'Never mind,' she said. 'These chairs go through a lot of wear.'

That reminder of Christine had pushed away some of the joy that Spock was carefully holding inside himself and he asked, 'Am I free to go once you have performed this check?'

Dr Zhao laughed again, rather more softly. 'Not quite, Commander. You have residual damage to your eyes that won't be fixed by either a healing trance or even good old human wishing. And I know that Dr Badami isn't about to let you walk out of here until you're fit. We have to be sure you're no longer contagious.'

'And yet you are treating me and risking your own health,' Spock pointed out.

'One of the perils of the trade, I'm afraid, Commander,' she smiled. 'Believe me, I'm loaded with anti-viral agents and I'll be the first to turn myself in if anything develops. But if I hadn't worked on your eyes now, while the virus was still affecting those cells, the treatment might not have worked.'

'I appreciate your putting yourself in danger to treat me,' Spock said soberly.

The doctor put a hand on his shoulder, and he was assailed briefly by the warmth of her emotions.

'It's all part of the job,' she told him. 'Now, let me get my light again and I'll have a proper look at your eyes. I'll release the frame from around your head first, and you'll be a lot more comfortable.'

Spock waited while the pressure was released on the frame and the doctor swung it away from his head. Then she came close to him again and shone her light carefully into his eyes. He held himself back from flinching as a brightness struck the back of his eye the like of which he had not seen in a very long time. Colours moved amorphously around inside his eye, mostly tinted green from his blood, it seemed, and white from the light the doctor held. She was murmuring rather incoherent sentences as she bent near him, and he could hear the clicking of an instrument in her hand. Her tone of voice was positive, however, and Spock allowed that to increase his own optimism.

'Well, Commander,' she said at last, moving away from him and turning the main lights back on. Spock blinked, half dazzled and half amazed by the width and depth of the light before him. He could see blurred objects, and before them an unfocussed conglomeration of flesh colour and dark hair and vibrant orange clothing where the doctor was standing.

'What do you think?' she asked.

Spock stood up slowly, reaching out a hand before himself, uncertain of where all of this light and colour was placed in relation to himself.

'It is – fascinating,' he said.

'Tell me what you see, Commander,' she asked him. 'My instruments can only tell me what they think you see.

'I see – ' Spock pondered. It had been a long time since he had needed to describe sight like this. 'I see colours. I see vague forms. I can see you, Dr Zhao, as an extremely blurred and rather shapeless mass. I see the colour of your hair and your skin and clothes, but not individual facial features. I see – '

He turned to the left, peering forward. Was that a window? He was sure that it was. He walked very tentatively towards it, wishing he had his cane, but he had left it behind in his room. This blurred world was deceptive.

The doctor came forward and put a hand on his arm. 'There's an instrument trolley there,' she told him, steering him a little to the right. 'And now you're clear.'

'This is the window,' Spock said in wonder, reaching it and lifting his hand to touch the cold glass. 'The sky is blue. There are no clouds.'

'The sky is blue,' she repeated in a tone of deep satisfaction. 'Yes, it's the first clear day we've had in a week. The sky is definitely blue.'