Star Trek - Sarek
Page 48
And, of course, there is the thought of Sarek, alone.
When I asked T'Pau, rather hesitantly, how Sarek was these days, she
stared straight at me, her imperious expression unchanged--but her
words, uttered in her slightly lisping, accented speech, surprised me.
"Thee asks how Sarek is, Amanda? In all this year of exile from thy
homeworld, thee hast never asked. Why now?"
'7 ask because I know how Sarek wouldgrieve for his father, T'Pau," I
said, regarding her s teadily. am ... concerned about his welfare."
Her black eyes blinked at me, from out of her bony, once-beautiful
features. "Thee is right, Amanda. Sarek grieves for Solkar ... but he
grieves a hundredfom more for thee."
Her bluntness startled me. "Really?" I murmured, unable to think what to
say, trying to repress the stab of anguish her words brought.
T'Pau paused, then stared straight at me. "Wilt thee attend Solkar's
memorial service, Amanda? If thee tells me thee wishes to attend, I will
delay the service until thee can come home."
Home. She said home in referring to Vulcan. T'Pau sam that, to me ... an
ojworlder. My breath caught in my throat as I remembered so much ... the
beauty, the desolation, the heat ... Sarek g arms around me, the
closeness of our bodies no more intimate than that of the bond we share
...
For the first time in a year, I allowed myself to sense Sarek mind
through the bond. It was always there, of course, in the back of my
mind--I'd have known if anything had happened to him. But I've been too
angry to let myself touch his mind. And, of course, I'm not a telepath,
so my ability is limited ...
But I sensed him. And what I sensed made tears stream down my face.
She didn't even avert her eyes from the sight of so much rampant
emotionalism when I wept. When I managed to regain my control, she said,
only, "Wilt thee come home, Amanda?"
I nodded at her, and she gave me the date, location, and time of the
service, then cut the connection.
So now ... I must pack, and board the transport. I have only a few
hours to finish, so I can't spend any more time on this journal until
I'm bound for Vulcan.
Sarek, I am coming back to you. I have learned a great deal this past
year, and one of the things I have learned is that in punishing you, I
was punishing myself just as much. It is no longer worth it.
If I know you--and l do--you won't ever bring up the subject of my
selfimposed exile J?om you and Vulcan.
You'll simply want to go back to the way things were--except that our
son will not be part of our family anymore, as far as you're concerned.
Can I live with that? Yes, I believe I can. You see, ifi can forgive
you, then I have to believe that you and Spock will, someday, forgive
each other.
I must hurry ... time and that transport won't wait ...
Sarek closed the volume and sighed. It was painful to read those words
... to think of the time they had spent apart, and of how he would give
up nearly everything he possessed to regain that lost year. Putting that
volume aside, he picked up the next, then located the spot where he'd
left off the night before. Noting the date on the next entry, the
ambassador steeled himself to read what she had written.
March 14,2285 No entry for three days ... I can scarcely see to write
this ... I am so tired that I ache all over, but every time I lie down
and close my eyes, the images I see are too awful to bear. So, after
dozing for the first time in days, I am awake barely an hour later,
writing ... because doing nothing is even worse.
Is there a God?If there is a Supreme Being, how could he, she, it, or
they allow this to happen?
My son is dead. Spock is ... dead. Writing those words ... I am
trembling, shaking, and my heart feels as though some giant is squeezing
it in an inexorable fist. Spock, dead? It seems impossible. I keep
thinking there has been some mistake, that Starfleet will call us and
tell us it isn't true. How can it be true? Spock is--oh god, was--half-
Vulcan.t I expected him to outlive me for decades! Why did this have to
happen, why? My child, dead? How could this happen?
Of course I know how it happened. Even in the midst of my own anguish I
could find it in my heart to pity poor Jim Kirk ... he tried so hard to
break it gently. Spock was his best friend, they were so close, serving
together all these years. I could tell that the captain had been crying
too ... Sarek did not cry, of course. I found myself, for a moment,
hating him for that. As though his lack of human tears meant that he did
not care for Spock ... when I know that he did care, that our son was
the most important person in the galaxy to him ... except, possibly,
for me. I stared at him, the tears welling up and coursing down my face,
sobs racking me until it seemed that my bo could not hold them--and I
came so close to lashing out at him. For a horrible instant I wanted to
slap him, scream at him, and demand that he weep for our son ... I am
thankful that I did not. I would never have forgiven myself That would
have made an intolerable situation even worse.
Sarek takes comfort in the fact that Spock died well, in the performance
of his duty, sacrificing himself to save his shipmates. A hero, to use
the human term ... a word which does not translate into modern Vulcan.
But there is no comfort for me. Last night I clutched myself, rocking
back and forth, feeling as though I might explode with sorrow. Sarek
came and sat beside me, trying to comfort me with his presence. He
rested his hand on mine, silently, and ,,hen herinally spoke, it was
only to say the traditional words ... "My wife, I grieve with thee ...
" I know he does. But I feel that a mother's love is stronger, and thus
her grief is also greater. Illogical perhaps ... but true, I know it.
Spock, my son ... if only you had died on Vulcan!
Then you would not be lost to us forever. At least your living spirit,
your katra, could have been saved, could have been placed in the Hall of
Ancient Thought. If oly--
Abruptly, the precise, elegant handwriting broke off.
Sarek knew why. Vividly, he remembered the afternoon his wife had burst
into his study, her reddened eyes wide and wild ...
"Sarek?" Amanda's normally cultured, lovely voice shattered like fine
crystal in the stillness. "What about Spock's katra? It wouldn't have
died with his body, if he found someone to entrust it to ... his living
spirit could still be found!" Sarek turned from his computer terminal to
see his wife standing in the doorway, clutching it with both hands, as
though she might fall without the support. She was wearing a dressing
gown pulled carelessly over her nightdress, and her hair was mussed, in
contrast to her usual impeccable grooming.
Amanda's eyes flashed with incredulous hope as she continued,
breathlessly, "From what James Kirk told us, our son knew his actions
would kill him--so he would certainly have established the mental link
necessary to entrust his katra when he died!
Spock was a good
telepath--he could have done it very quickly."
"But Kirk did not mention--" Sarek began, reasonably.
"Kirk's human!" Amanda burst out. "He may not even know what he holds in
his mind! Most humans wouldn't--oh, Sarek, if there's even a chance--"
She gazed at her husband pleadingly. "--even a small chance, we can't
afford to ignore it! We're talking about our son's living spirit--what
humans would call a soul, I suppose. We can't let him be lost forever!"
Sarek stared at her, his mind turning over what she had said. "Your
deduction is most unlikely, Amanda," he said at last, his tones gentle.
"From the scenario that Kirk described, the ship was in great peril, in
imminent danger of destruction. Spock could hardly have found time to
meld with Kirk before he went down to the engine room."
"It doesn't take a full meld, and you know it, Sarek," she insisted, her
blue eyes flashing stubbornly. "Our son was a trained telepath, he'd
melded with Kirk many times. He could have established the link that
would make Kirk his Keeper in a bare instant!" Sarek experienced a flare
of hope. Amanda was quick to notice the tiny change in his expression.
"You must go to Earth and see Kirk, my husband," she said formally. "You
will be able to tell whether Kirk holds our son's essence in his mind.
Go, Sarek. Spock would have found a way! I know it!" The ambassador
stood up, crossed the room to stand beside his wife. Slowly, formally,
he held out two fingers, and she returned the gesture. They stood
together, their mutual grief flowing between them, both gaining strength
from their closeness. Through their bond, Sarek shared some of Amanda's
hope that their child was not totally lost, and it slowly, gradually,
became his own hope.
Finally, Sarek nodded. "I will go to Earth, Amanda," he promised. "I
will speak with Kirk in person. If necessary, I will touch his mind, and
discover whether he is unconsciously Keeping our son's living spirit."
Amanda smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you, Sarek," she said, softly.
"Thank you, my husband. Spock would have found a way ... I know it. My
son is not completely gone ... if he were, I think I would know. You
must find him, Sarek ... "
"If he is to be found, I will do so," Sarek said, his tone as grave and
earnest as if he took a solemn oath. "1 will bring his living spirit
back to Vulcan ... so he may be at peace."
Sarek looked up from the journal and sighed, remembering what had
followed. His son was alive today because of Amanda's unwavering faith
that he was not truly--not completely--lost to them.
I must give these journals to Spock, allow him to read them when I am
finished, he thought. My son deserves to gain the insight into his
motherg mind that they have given me ... Despite the bond we shared for
so many years, there are things about Amanda that I never knew until now
... If only his wife were still alive. If only he could express aloud,
for once, the emotions he had allowed only to surface in the silent
privacy of their bond. It would have meant so much to her to have heard
him say it out loud ... just once.
But she was dead. Amanda was dead.
Dead ... and nothing could change that. Amanda, unlike a Vulcan woman,
had no future ... at least, no future that was perceivable or
ve rifiable. As a human, she had not possessed a katra ... so nothing
could be placed in the Hall of Ancient Thought, to linger until it was
ready to go on to whatever lay next.
If Amanda had been Vulcan ... if Kadura had not been
taken hostage ... Sarek could have been the Keeper of her katra ... her
living spirit could have resided within him until it was released into
the energy nexus of the Hall of Ancient Thought.
If Amanda had been Vulcan, her husband and son could have gone to that
ancient citadel, stood within its confines and gained a sense of her
presence. By the time his wife's katra was ready to depart, Sarek would
have been prepared, would have had ample time to bid her farewell. Had
his wife been Vulcan, her death would not have meant such an abrupt and
shocking end, a complete and utter severing of their bond. Even if he
had been on Kadura, Spock could have been her Keeper ... But Amanda had
been human, and the ambassador had never, until a few weeks ago, wished
it otherwise. But when he'd learned that she was ill, Sarek had been
forcibly reminded of something he'd determinedly managed to forget ...
that his wife was almost certain to predecease him by years ... probably
decades.
The ambassador sighed aloud, thinking that if Amanda had been Vulcan her
katra would probably now be residing within him--or within Spock. She
would, in a sense, still be alive ... But if Amanda had been Vulcan,
she would not have been Amanda ... Sarek sighed, and his eyes returned
to the volume on his lap. He began reading again, finished that one,
and, with a sense of deep regret, picked up the last of the red-bound
books. Opening this one, he paged through it, saw that it was only a
third filled. He took a deep, painful breath, and determinedly began to
read.
The last brief series of entries made him sit up straighter, his eyes
moving quickly over the page. When he finished them, he went back and
read them again, slowly. He could almost hear her voice ...
September 17,2293 Frankly, I am worried about Sarek. The days since I
have been diagnosed have been a great strain, far worse
for him than for me. After all, he bears the burden of not allowing me
to glimpse his fear for me ... of not letting me sense his pain. The
only comfort I can offer is to let him think that I remain unaware of
his inner turmoil, so that is what I do ...
September 18,2293 Sarek left today to negotiate for the release of
Kadura, a planet taken by Klingon renegades. The president asked him
personally to handle the negotiations, and he had to accept. It is his
job, his duty to use his skills for the benefit of others, and I
understand that. He is the best in the galaxy at what he does, and I
know that. I am proud of him.
Which doesn't mean that I don't miss him, and wish he had stayed here
with me. I miss him more with each passing hour. You would think I would
be used to his absences by now, but this time ... I am not a saint ...
I am facing something that frightens me, and I wish he were here to help
me face it. But I am strong. I can manage by myself ... I always have,
whenever it was necessary.
Besides, there is still our bond. I miss his presence in the back of my
mind, but there is still a small sense of him remaining. Since I am not
telepathic, it is faint ... but, in a sense, he is always with me. Will
I ever see him again?
I fear not.
Something about the way I feel ... Spock mentioned a sensation of
"shutting down," when we spoke about dying. Is that what I am feeling?
Difficult to keep my thoughts organized enough to write. Hard to
concentrate ... so tired.
Spock ... I am worried about him. His eyes are haunted, hi
s mouth a
knife-thin slash. Beyond his worry
for me, his constant concern and grief, I can sense his anger ...
Anger at death, perhaps. Anger at age, at the cruel fate that is turning
his mother into a shriveled, feeble stranger. Normal emotions--except
that my son is a Vulcan. But I have sensed more barely masked emotion
from Spock since his father left today than I have since he was a small
child. They say everyone has a weak point--and apparently I am Spock T
Spock g main anger ... is directed at his father.
How can I help him learn to understand, and accept and forgive--as I
have learned to do over the past decades? How can I help Spock, when I
will not be here much longer?
Tired now ... September 19,2293
So glad that I made Sarek promise to read these journals. Comforting to
know that he will understand, someday, what I was thinking, feeling,
here at the end.
Will I be here tomorrow? I sit here in my bedroom and gaze around me at
my beloved things ... and I am at peace, finally. If only Spock could
share my acceptance.
If only I had the strength to explain Sarek to my son.
Spock cannot forgive his father/or leaving me, but it not that he
doesn't love me, not that at all. Spock is half Vulcan, raised to be
Vulcan ... why can't he understand?
What a reversal ... usually it is Spock who has to explain Vulcan
behavior to me. Never forget that time in his quarters aboard Enterprise
when Sarek was dying. I slapped him, slapped my son. The crack of that
blow still rings in my ears. Only time I ever struck him in his life.