Chapter 24 - Reach

"I don't know if that's good enough, Plebe."

The senior cadet's hard gaze seemed practiced rather than deeply felt. Spock had just completed a basic but extensive data entry task for the cadet's group project. The cadet finally took the tape, as if he didn't really want it.

The cadet leaned closer. "It's like everything's too easy for you. What can I make you do to make you actually miserable?"

Spock didn't even know this cadet's real name. His nickname was Honker, because of his crooked, flat nose that tied in surprisingly well with his asymmetric face.

Spock could feel P'Losiwst's attention from across the break area. A senior cadet mentor was at the drink dispenser. He looked over his shoulder, went back to adding three doses of chocolate to his coffee, for which the machine required repeated manual code entry.

"I asked you a question," Honker said.

Spock raised his chin, then lowered it again. "I do not know, sir."

"Well. Think of something for next time. Or else."

Spock resisted sounding impatient or annoyed. He regretted those emotions were even present in him. Perhaps this practice of harassment was indeed valuable to him, even if the tasks were not. "Yes. Sir."

The cadet strode away, body held high. P'Losiwst approached. Her antenna were curled out to the side, a sympathetic arrangement. She pulled out a chair and dropped her bag on it.

"Hey Spock. Take a rest. I could use one too."

Spock joined her. The other three cadets at the table considered him at length before returning to their discussion. Being singled out attracted additional attention. But unlike Vulcan, the diversity here meant he was not isolated by it. And to a degree he functioned as a bulwark for his peers by keeping the enemy occupied.

P'Losiwst put a hot chocolate in front of Spock, slid into the seat beside her bag. She had a sweet blue beverage before her. Spock watched her wrinkle her nose from the bubbles.

"When I was a kid we drank these one after the other because we thought it would make our skin bluer. Our cousins told us it would and we believed them way too long." She smiled weakly. "I still love the stuff. And the machine has a program for it. I couldn't believe it when I found it."

Spock pretended to sip his hot chocolate, engaged his padd to display his messages. There were two new replies from Kirk. Due to lags in replying and comm uplink their conversation had multiplied into several threads that were offset in time. This gave the impression of communicating several times a day most days.

"On another mission now. Learning as fast as I can. If I rely on people below me too long instead of knowing enough, they are going to get used to bypassing me. Which I don't want. You'll know when I reply to your other messages that I've gotten a chance to eat. I figure I've got my head down already so I can poke out a reply. Right now waiting on an equipment reconfiguration. It helps a lot to chat with you. I can tell I'm losing touch with the outside world in between messages. Got to keep hold of all levels of what's happening. I don't like how buried in the immediate I get sometimes. Seems like asking for trouble."

A second message: "You asked about rest. I get about six hours every thirty. They issue us a supplement to make sure that's enough. Not something I've ever seen on a ship. And not sure I'm sanguine about this long-term. No one else worries. Sleeping less than the enemy is just one more advantage. I skipped the supplements yesterday and that left me missing you only four minutes before I fell asleep unlike the rest period before. It's going to be a while before I get leave and we can video chat. For now, all these messages are a blessing and they keep me grounded."

Kirk had a preference for spoken replies and Spock would be able to do so in half an hour, so he closed the messages and stared at the device's falsely deep, aqua-hued screen. P'Losiwst slurped up the bottom of her drink.

"Missing your beau?" She made a face. "Obviously. Stupid question. You have your lit tutor today."

Spock nodded, pulled up his reading for Shutan.

"I wish I had a Lit Tutor. And a Propulsion Tutor. And probably even a Bridge Station Tutor." She tried to sip her drink and the straw made a wet airy noise. "I wish I could hire someone to do my courses. Actually. You know what's terrible. I'd have to hire like three different beings to cover it all. What's that say about this program?"

She smiled weakly. "I'll let you read."

The others at their table departed. P'Losiwst listened in to the students at the next table for one minute and forty-seven seconds. "What are you reading this week?"

"Lolita."

"Earth book, I assume. What's it about?" She hunched over her empty drink. "Sorry. I'll leave you be."

"It is no problem. It may be helpful to discuss it before meeting with my tutor."

Her antenna curled forward. "Is it interesting?"

Spock resisted shrugging, a gesture he'd found tempting to copy in the last two weeks. "It is about illogical human self destruction. Through an obsession with sex and possession of a forbidden individual."

"Sounds really good so far."

Spock raised a brow. "I must analyze it as an artistic work and as usual, I do not know where to begin."

She smiled. "I suck at that too."

"Your grades in Ethics through Galactic Literature are better than mine."

She smiled enough to show her two sets of pointed teeth at the corners. "I bullshit better." She sat back. "In the work, Lolita, the author demonstrates a fundamental human weakness using an extreme example that the reader cannot misconstrue. But it can be generalized to include all humans, and all forms of desire. All desire contains the seeds of self delusion and destruction."

"And you have not read the book."

She shrugged. Smiled the way Kirk would if he had the same muscles in his face. She'd picked up more human facial expressions as the term went on, used them to supplement the position of her antenna.

Spock exhaled, almost made the mistake of sighing. "However, I must have an honest answer for Shutan or I will suffer his impatient criticism."

"The honest answer is the book didn't mean anything to you."

Spock wasn't certain that was true, but he nodded to acknowledge he'd heard her.

"Did you find any parallels with your own situation?" Shutan asked.

Coming hours after his discussion with P'Losiwst, Spock marveled that his fellow cadet was in fact more restrained and considerate of his person than this elderly Vulcan.

"Very few."

Shutan's wrinkles deepened when the sun came out from behind a rare cloud. "What did you think of the narrator?"

"He lies to himself."

"Does your boyfriend do that?"

Spock's arm muscles tightened. "What do you mean?"

Shutan tapped his steepled fingertips together and stared at Spock as if reading him. "Does he assume things in contradiction to reality to defend his actions?"

"May I enquire the reason for your obsession with my relationship?"

Shutan's fingers continued tapping. "You reveal more by deflecting. Do you not recognize this behavior from what you just read?"

Spock had his body under control but less so his burgeoning annoyance.

Shutan said, "When we see ourselves in literature, we learn in a way pure meditation cannot be a vehicle for." He huffed through his nose. "It is unfortunate for Vulcans that they lack this opportunity. It causes cultural stagnation. But go on. Does the narrator lie only to himself?"

Spock considered this for a time. "He also lies to the reader, perhaps. But I find that illogical. The narrator is not real and has no need for obsfucation between itself and the reader."

"The narrator pretends to be real. Behaving real makes him more real seeming which renders the experience of reading more powerful. That is an obvious one. Do you see anyone you know in the narrator?"

"No."

Shutan's eyes shined with interest. "The words unspoken are at least as important as those that are spoken."

The shape of Spock's emotion was shifting, becoming of a form he did not wish to contain. "You are amused at my expense. As if I am no more than a book you are perusing."

"Tell me how your boyfriend is not like the narrator. That should be easy."

Spock warmed as if his muscles were preparing to move.

"We're doing well, Spock. You are reacting deeply to a literary work."

"I am reacting to your questions. I did not react at all while reading."

"That's implies that you have failed to learn to ask the right questions as you read. I'll rephrase my question. What about the narrator makes you uncomfortable?"

"Nothing. He is mentally broken. The book is not about reality."

"What is his real crime? In the story the reader is, ostensibly, surprised to find out he's been jailed for murder, not for the running confession of sexual abuse. What does that say?"

Spock shook his head. "I do not have a guess."

"Why does he kill?"

"Revenge for losing his possession."

"Worth killing for?"

Kirk had repeatedly asserted that he would kill anyone who harmed Spock. Spock still remembered those moments with a distorted fondness.

"Depends upon the individual."

Shutan raised his chin. "Surprisingly understanding from someone who adheres to Surak's teaching."

"The narrator is not real."

"The logic which dictates Vulcan mores is also not real. It is a construct. Did you find the possessiveness familiar?"

"All mating has this feature."

"Again with the deflection. Do you wish me to form assumptions entirely from what you fail to say? I said last time that it would be interesting to hear you discuss this work. And I was correct." Shutan paused. "Becoming angry with me does not change my words." His voice grew rough with use. "Literature is best when it challenges. It is not entertainment, that aspect is bait. Give me the narrator's qualities. The narrator is . . .?"

"Possessive."

"Very much so. As a result?"

"He has no significant life beyond this need. Everything he does is in service to this obsession. He is a self-made prisoner."

"Does he wish it to be otherwise?"

"Only very briefly."

"And he is explicitly self aware at those times. Why does he wish to be better?"

"I do not know."

"Guess."

Spock looked away, found only one answer that echoed too much. "He wishes to earn Lolita."

Shutan paused for three minutes. Spock regathered himself but resisted the detachment that would leave him unable to answer intelligently.

"Another quality."

"Obsession with physical traits of youthful beauty. The girlish fashions of it even, although not the appropriately undeveloped intellect. That he derides. He honors innocence. Purity." Spock stopped.

"What do beings fear most?"

"Mortality, typically. Vulcans fear shame more highly."

"Spock, you are fascinating on the defensive and the offensive. I do not care what you do with yourself. You are not my kin and the mountains know I would never hold a candle to your father for strictness of practice. Do you think I am judging you?"

"I do not know."

"Large power differences corrupt relationships surrounding mating. Do you not agree?"

"Not necessarily. How beings interact with each other in private can be made independent of external forces," Spock said.

"You mean the way the narrator fantasizes of a desert island? The way Lolita demands ever increasing bribes?"

"I was not speaking of the book. I was speaking of a balance of giving and care between parties that only matters to them."

"The narrator goes on at length about caring."

"He fantasizes about caring, but he is broken and is merely selfishly contriving to possess."

"Not your experience, I assume."

"No."

Shutan's face relaxed and it drooped more with age. "Other qualities of the narrator?"

"He is well educated. He uses this as a mask. He uses high mindedness to couch a base need."

"What about Lolita?"

"She is vacuous."

A long pause. "Is she really?"

Spock reconsidered the small hints otherwise. "Perhaps again the narrator lies. His deeds are less significant if she is intellectually insubstantial as it decreases agency. Although, that is a morally questionable position."

"Very good, Spock. Vulcans are too accustomed to words as truth. Literature itself creates a greater truth through lies. You need to learn to play along, but know you can be played as well."

Spock vaguely nodded.

"Shall we go over the Dickens? Being from a form of aristocracy, perhaps we can make you uncomfortable there as well."

The hourly public shuttle descended toward the lunar surface. Space beyond the arc of the moon's horizon appeared black in contrast to the sun-glared surface. Interlocking curved shadows rose up, loomed around the craft and became the high ridges of craters. A landing pad irised open and they passed from shadow into pinpoint rows of lights flashing in sequence to guide the ship in.

P'Losiwst was wearing one of her human styled suits of shiny Andorian material. Her muscles radiated wiry excitement. Four other cadets were on their shuttle, three of them seniors. They pointedly ignored Spock and P'Losiwst.

Moon Base Three was busy with workers and tourists. They made their way to the transit lounge, slowly due to P'Losiwst's curiosity about the station.

The arrived by transporter at the dark side Antaras lab in the midst of the other recruits, twelve cadets and five others in civilian wear. The four cadets from the earlier shuttle stared upon seeing Spock and P'Losiwst again, glanced at each other.

An outer lobby of sorts had been made out of the awkward areas leading away from the airlocks. And demos were configured on a range of display technologies in the arc of windowed space.

The pink and yellow haired Yadis drew everyone's attention to her. "Hello everyone. Glad you could make it to our remote outpost. We do a lot of lab work that no one wants done near population centers but that must be done in an actual gravity well. Most of our day to day is non-hazardous, but we sometimes crank up our test fields pretty high. We do that outside on a rig we call The Sled, which we'll show you later. First we want to show you our pride and joy of the month, the Korso Field. That's in Lab 2. We only take two at a time in there. So make sure you get your turn. With that, please come in and look around, talk to the staff. Don't be shy."

Spock stepped away from the bulk of cadets gathered around a large glowing, seething tank. He looked around for P'Losiwst who was no longer beside him. She stepped up on his other side carrying two drinks, handed him one, and winked.

They circled the labs and demos that were open rather than waiting in line. Spock read the displays and listened to the technical discussions. P'Losiwst watched the people.

They were standing beside the last of the major demos which no longer had a line when Yadis approached. "Any questions, Spock?"

"Quite a range of technology."

"Yes. We get flack for that. But we can't know which breakthrough is going to yield a viable new engine." She smiled at P'Losiwst. "This must be your colleague."

P'Losiwst held out her dainty hand with a flash of silver nail paint and they shook. P'Losiwst said, "Do most of the staff live on the moon?"

"No. Nearly all of them live on earth and commute every four days. Two live in high orbital stations. That's becoming more popular."

"Unlike Moon Base 3 you've installed full gravity in the labs," P'Losiwst said.

"Everything we develop has to run on a ship under one g."

"Your support is private or governmental?"

"Both. And both cause us headaches. Want to shadow while I circulate and we can talk more?"

P'Losiwst handed her third drink to Spock and walked on her toes.

"Have you seen our rig yet, Spock?" Yadis gestured at a cluster of people in collared shirts with an embroidered Antaras logo on the shoulder. "One of you take Spock back to The Sled. Thanks."

After some glances all around, a tall human male pushed off the wall. He passed through the unsteady light of the demos and came toward Spock. He had Kirk's coloring, but his hair was longer and carefully mussed and his face was narrower and his chest flat and broad. His body gave off an aura of relaxed uncaring. Spock felt him approach, wondered at his senses keying in on this random human's physicality.

"Come on."

Spock followed the sauntering figure down a side corridor. They stopped at a panel with status lights on it under a diagram of a generic engine pod on a pair of rods and a long narrow base. "Thank god Yadis didn't insist on a show off run for you guys. Always knocks the next set of tests out of whack."

He switched the display settings with impatient pokes. Spock stood with hands behind his back, studying the figure before him while appearing to study the display. It was as if this human shared some key aspect of Kirk that triggered a similar response in him. Spock had not believed attractiveness could work upon him so rapidly. It fascinated and alarmed him.

"It'll be a few." He looked Spock up and down, too slowly to be simply verifying the uniform. "You're only a first year."

Spock nodded and retreated farther within his controls.

"I'm Kreos. Dr. Yadis said your name, something Vulcan."

"Spock."

"Right." He looked away, flipped open the view port beside the controls, leaned to the side. "Can almost see from here. You can see the track anyway."

Spock stepped closer. The view port's material was curved at the edges and warped the view of a long gray track engraved in the lunar dust. Kreos stepped in right behind Spock and looked over his shoulder. His aura teased at Spock's senses. And his violating Spock's space reminding Spock of Hully's difficulty with Ensign Oppo on the Apollo.

"There's the light on the edge of the sled. Right now it's mounted with an older engine we're benchmarking. Everyone loves our rig because so many engines have already been benchmarked on it."

The scent of Kreos, the distinctive energy in his muscles worked upon Spock. He remained fixed at the porthole despite the man's closeness and tried to pin down what aspect or combination was generating this response.

"We're clear." Kreos stepped away, sounded bored. "Come on."

Free of the closeness. Spock exhaled, straightened, and followed.

The previous group came through to the lab station proper, talking about the senior cadet competition, how getting hired to such a project should count toward their color All-Arounds. They quieted as they passed Spock, started up again at a bend in the corridor.

"There's an access tube runs parallel to the track. It's inflated to make it retrievable when we make the runs." He triggered opened a panel and flipped the interlock controls and air hissed.

Spock felt an unwarranted desire to retreat rather than follow through the circular yawning opening. Logically, he was in no danger. He followed.

"You're the quiet type," Kreos said as he worked the controls inside the interlock. His voice echoed. "Overwhelmed by my stunning charisma, I guess." He smiled, not a friendly smile.

The door sealed shut and air hissed again. The outer door rolled aside, beyond it stretched a shining uneven cylinder. Spock hesitated, studying Kreos's eyes which were not green, but dark aqua like the blank screen of a padd.

"Lighten up," Kreos said. Mockingly, Spock estimated.

They strode into the bubble tunnel. Double rings connected heavy clear plastic into a tube with noble gas in between for insulation. Their footsteps sounded dry and dead hollow. The air brushed by, cooled by the flooring which appeared to sit directly on the moon surface. Lights glared outside, coloring the plastic and obscuring what would be a stunning view of the stars. They walked a quarter of a kilometer.

"You have any friends?" Kreos asked.

Spock waited until they'd halted to respond. "Vulcans do not subscribe to friendship."

Kreos scoffed. "Right. Well, here's the track. The boxes you see along the track are the triggers and sensors. The engine is usually mounted self contained. The track is forty kilometers long. The tunnel is only four kilometers. We use this for inspection between spacewalks. And demos."

He started walking again, away from the lab. Spock followed, tried to ignore the acute physicality of his humanness. It distressed Spock that internal ugliness was not impacting his response to outward attractiveness as it logically should. He still did not understand why he was responding at all.

"Sled." Kreos stopped and gestured.

Outside was a heavy platform, much larger than expected. It dwarfed the engine mounted above it. The ground and rocks around the track had been scoured bare of dust by the disturbance of the tests, appeared to be coral reefs.

"Since you don't talk, I assume you don't have any questions." Kreos stood expectantly with one brow raised.

"I assume the sled is a significant solid mass to make the weight of the engine less impactful to the test."

"Obviously."

Spock looked out at the sled. Moon dust coated the engine and sled with a pale haze. It didn't look like it would ever move. It looked derelict. Spock studied his emotions, found not only a dislike of the man standing nearby, but of himself as well.

"Thank you," Spock said, and indicated that he was ready to depart.

Another derisive snort.

At the interlock, Spock stood to the side opposite the controls, hands clasped behind him, head down.

"And he avoids me now." Kreos chuckled, stepped into the interlock.

Spock had no choice but to join him. The door rolled closed and the sound of Kreos's voice closed in as well.

"Spock, you should try getting laid."

"For what purpose?"

"It'd work wonders. And who knows, you might even like it."

The outer door automatically opened. Another staff member and recruit were waiting. Spock stepped by them and while he strode unhurriedly, didn't stop until he was back at the reception.

There were many fewer recruits around and the lighting had been dimmed. P'Losiwst and Yadis were near the drink table, talking animatedly.

Spock joined them, picked up a glass of white wine that had warmed. The women kept talking. Spock felt eyes on him, turned. Kreos was back with the other staff members, laughing at something.

The public shuttle ride was quiet, only half full. They were accompanied by three other cadets, but they were yawning or napping. P'Losiwst was madly typing notes from the evening on her small padd as alert as ever. Spock steepled his fingers, meditated at level two until his mind was at ease and his logic could assemble events factually.

Despite Spock's certainty that he'd not outwardly reacted and that he'd detected no telepathy, it was possible that Kreos had perceived Spock's attraction to him. Spock deeply disliked this notion, but logically, could not dismiss it.

"What'd you think of the lab?" P'Losiwst said.

"It was informative."

"But?"

"I found one of the staff members to be highly obnoxious."

"Which one?"

"Kreos."

"Not the one I was thinking of. There was another that seemed like an ass. I'll tell Yadis culture is an issue."

Spock looked out the viewport at the stars. He better understood Kirk's distress about his sudden feelings for Noel. Spock's own desires had become untrustworthy to himself. Despite applying rigorous logic, Spock still could not shake the sense of attraction even in his memories of events.

"You interested in a position? I think I am."

"My acceptance, which would be delayed in any event, should have no bearing on yours."

She lowered her padd and studied him. "It does though. You okay?"

"Indeed."

The blue and white arc of the earth grew in the port windows and ceased growing as they established orbit in preparation for docking.

Spock wondered where he would be, psychologically, at this moment were he not already deeply attached to Kirk. With his inexperience and dearth of other affection, would he have accepted the attentions of Kreos if they were offered simply because this attraction was so strong? He could not dismiss the possibility. That other path was not entirely knowable.

This was why Lolita had distressed Spock so. It wasn't because of Kirk, it was because of him. He had no defenses, or would have had none if Kirk had been abusive. Kirk had stepped into his life and acted as his defenses, the ones he'd lacked. Spock had been lucky.

P'Losiwst looked up from her padd mid-tap. Spock sensed her attention. She considered him for a time as if checking on him, then bent back over her padd when Spock pressed his steepled index fingers to his lips.