Chapter 3
As a Matter of Honor
.
(epigraph)
Can you remember, remember my name?
As I flow through your life.
A thousand oceans I have flown
And cold, cold spirits of ice.
All my life,
I am the echo of your past.
And if you hear me talking on the wind,
You've got to understand
We must remain perfect strangers.
(Deep Purple, "Perfect Strangers")
.
.
The evening after the end of the sandstorm brought clear skies to Shi'Kahr and an unexpected guest to Sarek and Amanda's house.
.
Sarek and Amanda had endured this long day each in their own way.
The shocking discovery at sunrise had been almost immediately followed by the frustration of the sandstorm quenching all possibility of taking immediate action. And after that they didn't talk for hours.
Sarek was busy in his study, making calls: to relatives, to the city security, to the emergency services and the Forge patrols. Also to several experienced desert rangers whom he knew personally since his youth. The storm was an obstacle, but a temporary one, it was not going to last forever. So Sarek made sure to utilize the spare time in the most efficient way. He had the grace to inform Amanda of his plans for the day, but firmly asked her not to disturb him until he finished organizing matters.
Amanda could only ruefully guess that her husband had already been disturbed enough by her tears in the morning, when she stormed into the kitchen after having found Spock's room empty… He held her in his arms until she calmed down, then carefully seated her down on a chair and poured her a glass of water – but said nothing. Except that he was now going to his study to organize things and call the right people and was asking to not be disturbed. Then he left the kitchen without any more comments. And obviously without breakfast, too.
All day Amanda had had nothing to do, and it vexed her. Sure, her husband was there to arrange matters in the most efficient way possible. They were going to find Spock. But she felt left out.
She tried to go out and work in her garden. It was safe, with the force shields raised automatically at the first warnings of the sandstorm and the lights in the garden turned on. But the sight of the dark masses of sand raging above her head made her feel nauseous. Their house's force dome was not very high, and Amanda felt like she was drowning under waves.
"Don't hurt my son, you!" she shouted up at the faceless raging monster – and ran back under the cover of the house.
In her own study, she video-called a couple of Sarek's female cousins whom she secretly considered friends - even though they would, of course, never say anything of the sort. But they were good women and pleasant company, and they had always loved little Spock - even though they would, of course, never say anything of the sort. And yes, they were gracious with their time and did their best to console her in their rational and reserved Vulcan way. And she appreciated it – but it didn't help much.
"It doesn't help because you don't want to be consoled", she admonished herself later with brutal honesty. "Your son has basically told you that you are a bad mother, by running away".
This was what all teenagers in all corners of the Galaxy always did, or so it seemed. Only she had never thought that her teenager would do this to her.
"Oh sure, the boy has grown up and now always wanders off, hiking and rambling God knows where – I don't. But after yesterday… This looks bad. What did I say wrong? What did Sarek say wrong?!"
.
Sarek and Amanda sat down to their supper at the usual hour. At least preparing supper felt grounding and helped her find some balance. But had Sarek not come out of his study half an hour earlier and asked Amanda to prepare some simple food – she would have totally forgotten about the usual hour for supper.
Sitting at the modestly served table and picking half-heartedly at her food that seemed tasteless, she felt bitter annoyance at Sarek simmering inside her. He _still_ hadn't said a single word about Spock to her. His silence and his damn unwavering Vulcan efficiency were driving her mad.
"Look at him: his son ran away from home, his son may be lost in that damn sandstorm forever – and here he is, not giving a damn about it, wanting his supper on schedule!"
Amanda looked up indignantly at her silent, calm, perfectly self-controlled husband, ready to tell him all this aloud – and saw that Sarek was not eating. Not even trying to put anything on his plate. He was watching her over the high glass of water that he sipped slowly. And that tortured look in his eyes… It made her quickly lower her head again, ashamed that she could ever think badly of him. Even more ashamed because she knew that he knew what she thought right now.
.
When the doorbell rang, they didn't expect anyone. Well, except for the only one they both secretly hoped for…
But it was not him. It was someone really unexpected.
.
Amanda stood at the slightly opened dining room door and listened to the voices in the hall. More precisely, to a lengthy pause after Sarek opened the door, and only then the voices.
"Are you going to let me in, Ambassador Sarek?" - a loud booming voice, unfamiliar to her. Not any of the relatives or colleagues then…
"Only if you present me with a valid reason to do so, Commander Varen". Sarek's voice was calm and controlled as ever, but Amanda knew his nuances of intonation well. This particular nuance meant tense and suspicious, and also something else she couldn't quite pinpoint at the moment.
"And indeed I have one", said the booming voice proudly. "I have come to discuss the search operation for your disappeared son".
The wind chimes over the front door jingled softly and the door closed. There were sounds of footsteps in the hall, two men approaching. Amanda quickly slipped back into her seat at the dining table.
Sarek opened the door wide and announced ceremoniously, voice way too carefully controlled:
"My lady wife, this is Commander Varen of the Space Patrol". Sarek frowned as if he didn't like what he said and added: "Father of our son's fellow student Tavek".
.
The man who then stepped into the room past Sarek had a stature to match his voice. To put it mildly. Amanda looked up from her seat, trying not to gape.
Varen was a head and an inch taller than Sarek and a good few inches broader in the shoulders. And nobody could call Sarek short or frail-built, not at all. But Commander Varen was a giant. And a rather creepy-looking giant, too. Amanda nodded her greetings and tried to figure out what was so wrong with their unexpected guest that it instantly rang an alarm bell inside her. While Sarek and the guest were going through the water-offering ritual, she could look the man over without being too impolite.
Something was wrong about him. It was probably not about his severely straight-cropped hair or heavy bushy close-drawn eyebrows or heavy-lidded close-set eyes – all of them being jet-black, just like his ceremonial robe. Varen's overall look and clothes were those of a fairly typical descendant of ages-old Shi'al (1) nobility. Well, wearing the ceremonial robe for a private visit seemed a bit too aloof – but that's Vulcans for you. And his height was noticeably above average even for a Vulcan – but still not too unusual among them. Maybe it was his face…
"Tall, dark, but definitely not handsome", Amanda silently passed her female judgment.
Varen's face features reminded her of that of a Neanderthal, or the Vulcan version of a Neanderthal. Or maybe of the Easter Island stone statues. Genes had played a cruel trick on the man, roughing the normally strong-cut Vulcan features down to absurdity. Not a single face feature harmonized with another, like they were all assembled from different persons, Frankenstein-style. And the deep-cut lines at the mouth and across the forehead didn't help improve the impression either.
"Not the man's fault, being born like that", Amanda reasoned with herself. "And it's not like Space Patrol job requires beauty to be successful. Something else is wrong with him, something else is really wrong…"
Commander Varen, now seated at the honored place at the head of the dining table, began to talk, and Amanda's misgivings began to grow. Even though he started rather diplomatically…
.
"First, Ambassador Sarek, let me express my gratitude to you for handling that highly dishonorable situation with both of our offspring yesterday. I was away and couldn't be present".
Sarek seemed strangely taken aback by this gratitude for a moment, but then inclined his head in acceptance and shrugged a little. This easily translated as "I am a diplomat, that's what I do".
"I do not blame your son for fighting back so intensely", Varen continued in the same haughty official tone. "I am in fact surprised that he was capable of fighting back, considering his… peculiar genetic condition".
Sarek's face briefly showed some inexplicable expression, then the shutters fell back down again and only drawn eyebrows remained.
"I assure you, Commander Varen, that I have had a proper conversation with my son and have explained to him what a fair fight means. And what separates a fair fight from criminal behavior".
Now it was Varen's turn to lose his well-schooled calm façade for just a brief moment. But he quickly restored it and said, looking Sarek straight in the eye:
"If you mean that my son started an unfair fight, Sarek… then you are right".
Sarek's eyebrows flew high up in unhindered astonishment. And they had every right to do so – this phrase was obviously as unexpected as the visit itself. This was almost an apology, and Varen confirmed it by continuing:
"My son showed inacceptable weakness of character. Assaulting the weaker ones without reason is not how an honorable warrior should behave. Your son has taught my son a lesson to remember. He really made me interested in him, and I never thought I would be".
"I am pleased that you try to follow the way of honor, Commander", replied Sarek, returning the straight intense gaze. "This is what I teach my son too. But I also teach him the Way of Logic and respect for all life. Now I see that we both should double our efforts".
Amanda looked back and forth from one tall haughty Vulcan to another, feeling left out again.
"Very interesting…" she thought. "Sorry not sorry, yeah, Commander? "Interested"? "Try to follow"? And why the hell are both of them never calling their sons by name? Both are too ashamed of them or what?"
She considered herself pretty well-versed in Vulcan etiquette after all these years. And in Vulcan body language too. Now she felt that this tense conversation had levels that were beyond her understanding.
At least she could exercise her hostess position and try to relieve the tension. And so she tried:
"Commander Varen, I believe it is time to leave this unpleasant incident behind and follow the path of peace. Please let me contact your honorable wife so that we can arrange an acceptable recreation pastime for both our families. It will be very… productive if we and our children get to know each other better in an unofficial situation".
"When – and if – we find Spock, of course", she added in her mind, knowing enough of Vulcan etiquette to not bring it up until they had finished dealing with the first problem of the meeting.
Sarek gave her a slight nod of approval for her diplomatic skills, but Varen totally ignored her and very deliberately turned to Sarek, as if he hadn't heard her.
"I confirm the purpose of my visit that I announced at your doorstep, Sarek. I heard that your son got lost in the Forge. As a matter of honor, I offer assistance with the search party. You know that I have the resources".
And they engaged in discussing the technical details of the mission, again leaving Amanda out.
Amanda, offended and uncomprehending, knitted her brows to rival any Vulcan. "You arrogant brute!" she thought, seething with indignation that she wasn't supposed to express aloud. "Talking about honor… What's wrong with you?" Not a single guest they had received so far had had the unspeakable impudence to ignore the lady of the house when she spoke to him or her.
Sarek sensed her mood through the bond and send a glance and a little apologetic shrug her way, together with a hand gesture. All of this combined meant "I know, but please stay away for now".
"Alright, whatever", thought Amanda bitterly, giving Sarek a nod of comprehension. "But I am absolutely not offering this caveman any food. Not now, not even if the picnic still happens someday. You provide your own food, Commander Big Guy".
.
The negotiations didn't take long. Varen indeed had the resources, and not only from his Space Patrol position. His clan was very well-off, and seemed to have a lot of well-trained survivalists and rangers too. Including Varen himself, who volunteered to lead the search party. And his house was even further removed from the main city into the Llangon foothills than Sarek's estate. This fact logically made it the most convenient place for the search party to assemble at and set out from.
At last Varen planted his fists on the table and rose heavily.
"T'Sai Amanda", he addressed her for the first time since entering the room. Varen's parting bow to her was such a perfect mixture of politeness and disdain that Amanda could only bow her head slightly from her stupor.
.
"I don't like him!" announced Amanda to Sarek after Commander Varen left. She announced it in English because the Vulcan language simply would not express the irritation and worry building inside of her. "He is arrogant, suspicious and - and I don't like him!"
"You don't have to, my wife", replied Sarek reasonably, also in English. "And I promise you that he is not going to be a frequent guest in our house".
"I know right, but it is not about that…" Amanda suddenly was aware that she sounded childish. Well, they were alone now…
"Explain", asked Sarek with long-trained patience, wisely refraining from remarks about the incongruity of her last phrase.
Amanda searched for words that could explain her disturbing hunch to her rational-minded husband – and was lost for words. She threw her hands up in exasperation and started pacing. The irritation bubbling inside her finally found way out in another angry exclamation:
"He is sketchy, he is shady, he is fishy – and I hate it!" She spat out each phrase, punctuating it by stomping her foot.
Sarek stared at her, weighing what to doubt more – his wife's sanity or his knowledge of English.
"Explain", he repeated with long-trained patience, making a mental note to call a healer for Amanda tomorrow. "Spock's disappearance and the tension of having to wait out the sandstorm without any news are clearly taking toll on her fragile human psyche..." Sarek frowned and shook his head slightly.
Amanda, ever observant, noticed it and stopped pacing. Clasping her hands, she huffed out a breath to calm down and tried to explain again, without snappy slang.
"The way he talks – like he despises the whole world. The way he comes here like he is entitled – but he didn't come to school for his son. He doesn't even care for his own son! And he couldn't care less for Spock – and he openly despises humans, clear as day - but he comes here and offers to lead a search party… why? And, and… the way his eyes flash suddenly all the time – is he even sane?!"
Amanda paused open-mouthed, herself appalled by such suggestion. This was something to think about later. "If Spock goes to the same martial arts school with a madman's son… Yes, his son…"
She pressed on:
"What does he even do to his son, how does he treat him that Tavek grows up troubled like this? That boy is troubled! They live in a remote house, right? So he said.. Part of a big influential clan, but living in isolation outside the city… And he rudely ignored me when I politely requested to meet his wife! You saw it! And you didn't say a word!" She stared indignantly at her husband.
"Varen's wife died young in an accident, and he never remarried", Sarek informed her. "It… affected him", he added with an odd change in his voice, lowering his eyes.
"Oh", said Amanda, lost for words again.
She still felt strong antipathy towards that arrogant creep. But the way Sarek said it, not looking at her – this somehow quenched her vehemence and ended all wish to continue that conversation.
Sarek too had no wish to continue the conversation. It stirred unwanted memories in him – and he had more urgent matters to attend to. So he drew a line with his final statement, just like ending a diplomatic debate:
"Regardless of any attitudes and misunderstandings, it was generous of Varen to offer help, and we must accept it. But I was not losing time today – I too have organized a search party and I shall lead it myself".
.
.
.
(1) Shi'al - the name of the region around the city Shi'Kahr that used to be a sovereign state in Pre-Reformation times.
