Kirk found his steps tending towards science lab seven when his shift was over the next day, and the next, and the day after that. It became a matter of course that he would invite Ann Ridley to dinner, and that she would accept. Beta shift's chicken-with-almonds-and- don't-ask was not up to night shift's standard, but there were plenty of other options. The sight of the captain going about his usual practice of charming any female visitor to the ship reassured the crew who saw them in the officer's lounge, and (news being the only thing that could travel faster than warp 10) reassured the rest of the crew as well.
Ann explained her research in great and exhausting detail, which Kirk found restful (if incomprehensible). She was eager for company, and Kirk realised how difficult it had been for her, ordered at a day's notice to leave her work, her friends and home, and set out on a starship where she knew no-one, on a search to find what had happened to a friend gone missing.
"I'm not the adventurous type," she confessed during their third dinner. "I want to hole up in my laboratory where things are safe and the only unpredictability can be seen on graphs rather than out of the window. I'd rather let someone ELSE seek out new life, and I'll just work out what it is when they get home. Particularly since the new life usually seems to be trying to kill you, as far as I can tell from the news."
"We've brought hundreds of worlds into the Federation peacefully!" Kirk protested. "That may not make the news, but if you look at the lists of application for Federation membership..."
"It grows every year, I know." Ann said. "And I know you do things like disaster relief, and medical help, and missions like this one... but this mission proves my point, I think. Joseph wanted to work out on the edge, and look where it got him: Frozen to death less than 30 million miles from the Neutral Zone." And look where it got you, her eyes said. "Not for me, thanks. I'm a coward."
"It's hardly cowardice to-" Kirk started quickly, but she cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"You don't need to reassure me." Ann said. "I'm not fishing for compliments, and I don't need you to tell me what a brave little woman I really am, Jim. The thought of physical danger terrifies me. I'm not proud of that, but I'm not ashamed of it, either." Her gaze was challenging. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't been ordered, and I want nothing more than to go home."
"I'm sorry we can't oblige you." Kirk said, and then thought how that sounded. "I mean, for your sake, I'm sorry. For my own, of course, I'm delighted that - um - I mean -"
"Thank you." Ann said serenely, rescuing him, and smiled across the table.
Kirk smiled back, slightly nonplussed by her cool assurance. Then a hint of mischief lightened her expression. "And, I should tell you, if it weren't for the circumstances and the location, I'd be delighted to be aboard your ship."
Kirk wondered if he'd imagined the slight emphasis on 'your'. Ann's expression gave him little help. Your move, he imagined her thinking. She really was a fascinating woman, a galaxy class mind and self- confidence to match, all wrapped up in one shapely little parcel.
He cleared his throat.
"Have I shown you the observation deck yet?" he asked.
She grinned broadly. "I was wondering when you'd ask."
It took Grenwood five days to die.
It is merciful, Spock thought on the second day, that he is scarcely conscious. Then it occurred to him that this might be merciful for Lieutenant Larssen and himself, but not necessarily for Grenwood. Spock considered the possibility that the discomfort the Ensign's turbulent emotions caused him had affected his judgement of the situation, and he had made an assumption about what was best for the Ensign based on what was best for him, Spock. He reached the conclusion that he had done so, and made a mental note to address the matter in his mediations that evening.
Larssen sat quietly most of the time, soothing Grenwood when he woke and otherwise appearing lost in thought. She moved around the tent occasionally, exercising her muscles as far as possible in the limited space. Spock was curious as to her progress with Surak's admonition, but it would have been a gross violation of privacy on Vulcan to enquire, and so he remained silent.
His silence was disconcerting to Larssen. She had plenty of experience serving with members of species whose patterns of social interaction differed wildly from human habits, and would never have been eligible for an exploration posting if her psyche results in the academy had shown the slightest discomfort with the different, the alien. Yet Commander Spock's habit of speaking only when there was something essential to say began to wear on her. Larssen pushed the feeling away, telling herself that it was foolish and irrational, and then stopped. If fear was a lematya in her bed, perhaps this discomfort was something similar? A lematya cub?
"Sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Do lematya have cubs?"
'The correct term for lematya young is lematyan."
"Thank you, sir." she said, and returned her attention to the consideration of the lematyan that was her discomfort with Spock. She was unaware that Spock's speculative gaze rested on her back for several minutes longer. She chased that lematyan for the next day and night, following it relentlessly down many different tracks of thought: other Vulcans, full Vulcans, she had known and served with; other non-humans she had known in the past; the circumstances they were in and the effect they had on her emotions; First Officer Spock himself, and her time on the Enterprise. When the lematyan split suddenly into several different animals and each grew to full size, she took a shaken breath, and became aware that she was cold, and stiff, and that it was morning.
She looked up, and met Commander Spock's eyes unexpectedly. He had heard her gasp, and felt her sudden surge of unease, nearly as strongly as Ensign Grenwood's delirium, which was made palpable to him by the absence of the moderating influence of rational thought. To Spock's surprise, Lieutenant Larssen flushed when she saw him regarding her, and looked down at her hands, swallowing hard. The sense of unease vanished, and he deduced she was again as much in command of her emotions as humans ever were.
He did not wish to invade her privacy by inquiring as to the case of her distress, and regretted the embarrassment he had clearly inadvertently caused her. He turned his gaze back to his tricorder, and was once more absorbed in his work when she spoke.
"Sir?"
"Lieutenant."
Larssen hesitated, clearly choosing her words carefully. "Sir, has there ever been a consideration of Surak's teachings as ...dangerous ... to humans?"
She had his full attention now, and he gave her words the thought they deserved. "Some schools of thought have proposed that human culture is insufficiently developed to retain uniqueness when confronted with the powerful influence of Surak's teachings." he said at last. It did not seem to satisfy the Lieutenant.
"But - personally dangerous?"
Spock realised what she was trying to say. "There is always a debate between those who consider too close a scrutiny of emotions as dangerous, and those who consider it beneficial. Such disagreements apply to many philosophical teachings, human, Vulcan, and others. Vulcans, if one can make a statement about an entire species, tend to consider the second proposition valid. However, few Vulcans would be arrogant enough to assume that what applies to their species also applies to others. The differences between Vulcan physicology and psychology and that of other species make such an supposition invalid."
He recognised Larssen's demeanour as that of a human who wished to confide something. He had no desire to become her confidant, particularly if it were a personal matter, and it would cause her discomfort later to know that he knew of it. Jim Kirk, or Leonard McCoy, had the ability to defuse such a situation, but, Spock reflected, very likely neither of those two would have found themselves in such a position. Was his responsibility to Lieutenant Larssen best met by protecting her from the embarrassment an unconsidered revelation might cause, and the consequent discomfort she might feel in her work in the science section? Or had he incurred and equal or greater responsibility on a personal level by encouraging her in introspection?
Spock chose his words carefully. "I gather that your consideration of Surak's words has caused you some concern."
Larssen shrugged slightly. "I just - I mean ..." She stopped, then took her courage in both hands and jumped. "Commander, can I speak to you as a teacher and not an officer?"
That damned eyebrow went up so far Larssen thought Commander Spock would cause himself an injury. "Lieutenant, I am not two separate people. If you wish to tell me something that has a bearing on the safety of the Enterprise or her crew, or your performance of your duties, I cannot pretend I have not heard it."
She seemed, having decided to speak, to have no more doubts, and her voice was quiet and calm when she spoke. "Perhaps you are the better judge of that than me, sir. But - I was considering Surak's words, as you recommended." Spock reflected to himself that in a similar situation in the future he would recommend chess or possibly solitaire. "I was examining my emotions, recognising them, and ... well, sir, it's just that I don't think I like myself very much."
Larssen hoped he would not press her on that. If he did, she would answer honestly, but she did not particularly wish to say Sir, I was considering why I don't like it that you don't chit chat, and I discovered that I only like non-humans who behave in recognisably stereotypical ways. I've discovered that I'm somewhat bigoted, and that the fact that you are more flexible and less remote than other Vulcans I have known makes me resent your difference from humans even more. Furthermore, although I know that Bob's distress causes you discomfort and that, logically, I am the proper person to care for him, I hate it, and I'm blaming you for it because you haven't demonstrated the concern for him or for me that I would expect from a human. And I'm ashamed of myself. Is this what Surak wanted me to know? No, she did not wish to say any of that. She realised Spock was speaking to her, and snapped her attention to his words.
" - required that you like yourself." he was saying. "Only that you know yourself. If all the emotions people experienced were creditable and led to creditable actions, mastering them would not be required. When Vulcan children are trained in the disciplines of Surak, they are not reprimanded for experiencing irrational emotions. They are reminded that this is not shameful. It would be shameful to be aware of such reactions and to do nothing to master them; or to refuse to admit them and remain prey to them. Would you hear what Surak wrote on this mastery, or would it disturb you further?"
"I think it might disturb me further, sir, but I'd like to hear anyway." Larssen said matter-of-factly.
"Cast out fear. Cast out hate and rage. Cast out greed and envy." Spock's harsh voice was curiously resonant in the confined space. "Cast out these emotions by using reason to accept them, and then to move past them. Learn reason above all. Learn clear thought: learn to know what is from what seems to be, or what you wish to be. This is the key to everything: the reality of truth, the truth of reality. What is will set you free."
"There is a human saying, 'The truth will set you free.'" Larssen said.
"I suspect it refers to a different kind of freedom." Spock said.
"I'll take any kind I can get, sir." she said soberly. "Any kind at all."