"I will keep that in mind," the Klingon replied. With a curt nod, he
rose and left Sarek alone beside the fountain.
Spock sat alone in the small courtyard of the med center.
This area was designed to be a peaceful refuge where friends and
relatives of patients could meditate and wait in peace.
The walls were pale yellow, the floor was red-ocher tiles.
Benches stood ranged around the central water sculpture, facing the
shining spray within its protective field. Spock gazed at the water
sculpture without really seeing it.
The Vulcan was attempting to make his mind a blank, preparatory to
meditating, but every time he thought he'd succeeded, thoughts, like
thieves in the night, tiptoed into his consciousness.
His mother was much worse. Last night she'd had another stroke, a major
one. T'Mal had ordered her beamed directly to a hospital room in the med
center.
Hearing footsteps, the Vulcan glanced up to see Leonard McCoy enter the
solahum. As he took in the expression on the doctor's face, the Vulcan
rose slowly to his feet.
"How is she?" Spock demanded, hearing his voice ring hollowly in the
silence.
Silently, the doctor shook his head. "Not good. She's still alive ...
but she can't last for long, Spock. Vital systems are just ... closing
down." Spock stared at his friend, speechlessly. He'd thought he was
braced against any eventuality, but now shock held him silent.
McCoy sat down on a bench opposite his. The doctor's face was drawn and
haggard with mingled fatigue and sorrow. "We've managed to stabilize her
again, but her body is just worn out. The strokes have caused metabolic
irabal-ances and neural damage, despite everything the Healers and I
could do to prevent that. Now her kidneys are shutting down ... and her
heart is compromised. I'm afraid it's just a matter of time."
"How long?" Spock asked, forcing the words past the tightness in his
throat.
"Not long. Days ... possibly only hours." Spock rose to his feet, paced
back and forth, his boot heels echoing on the tiles. McCoy's blue eyes
followed his movements.
"Spock," the doctor said after a moment. "If there's anything I can do
... if you want someone to talk to, I'm here. Jim should be beaming
down any minute."
"I must make a call," Spock said, turning abruptly. "Wait here for me. I
will not be long." Minutes later he sat at the nearest public corem
link, facing Sarek's aide, Soran. "Greetings," he said, curtly, in his
native language. "I would speak with Sarek. it is urgent." The young
Vulcan's forehead creased, ever so slightly.
"That will be difficult. The ambassador is in the midst of the
afternoon's negotiations. May I relay a message?"
"No," Spock said flatly. "I must speak with my father personally. Be so
kind as to summon him at once." Soran hesitated for a long moment, then,
after studying Spock's face, nodded. "I will inform him immediately,
Captain Spock. Please wait." Several more minutes passed, while Spock
sat rigidly, words running through his mind. Finally a figure moved
before the screen in a flash of formal ambassadorial robes, and then he
was looking at Sarek. "Greetings, my son. You required a conversation
with me?" Spock nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir. Mother has suffered another
stroke. Dr. McCoy says that her time is very short."
"It will not be possible for me to leave," Sarek said, his voice
betraying no emotion whal[soever. Had Spock seen something flicker
behind his eyes? There was no way to be sure.
"You said the negotiations were proceeding smoothly.
Cannot Ambassador Stayel take over?"
"That is not an option," Sarek said firmly. "I must han dle this
personally. There is more at stake here than I realized." Spock drew a
deep breath. "I ask that you reconsider," he said, tightly. "My presence
does not comfort her. She is calling for you." Sarek's eyes closed, and
him well. "Spock I cannot." His face smoothed out, became impassive once
more. "Farewell, Spock. I must return to the negotiation table now." The
connection was abruptly broken. Numbly, Spock rose from his seat and
returned to the solarium. There he found Kirk and McCoy waiting for him.
McCoy checked the tricorder he was holding. "The monitors say she's
sleeping, Spock," he said. "Tll know the instant she wakes up. Sit down
for a minute. You look done in." As the Vulcan obeyed, Kirk glanced at M
Coy. "How is she?" Quickly, the doctor summarized Amanda's condition.
"Is Sarek coming home?" Kirk asked Spock.
The Vulcan's eyes narrowed. "No. The negotiations take precedence."
Kirk's hazel gaze widened slightly as the captain evidently realized
he'd touched on a sensitive subject.
McCoy shook his head grimly. "Lousy timing. That Klingon commander was
out of his mind to pull a stunt like this. He couldn't possibly have
thought he'd get away with it!"
"Having seen Klingon 'justice' close up, I'm surprised that any amount
of greed could induce a commander to commit treason against the Empire,"
Kirk agreed.
Spock stared at his captain for a long moment. "Interesting that you
should employ that particular word, Jim.
Perhaps that is indeed the case ... that Keraz was induced to invade
Kadura."
Kirk's hazel eyes were bright with curiosity. "What do you mean, Spock?"
The Vulcan hesitated, then said, "I had hoped to broach this subject
when Sarek was here, so he could relate events firsthand, but ... there
is no way of knowing when my father will return to Vulcan." His voice
was hard and flat in his own ears, and Spock saw Kirk and McCoy exchange
quick glances.
"What do you mean? What's going on?" the captain asked.
Spock reached out and took McCoy's medical tricorder, propped it where
they could all see Amanda's monitors displayed. "If she wakes, I will
have to stop," he warned the others. "Sarek told me the entire story
only a few days ago ... "The Vulcan continued, summarizing Sarek's
findings about the Freelans and the KEHL.
When the first officer finished, the captain and chief surgeon exchanged
glances; then both officers shook their heads dazedly. "I swear, Spock,
if this were anyone but you tellin' me this," McCoy said, "I'd say he
wasn't firm' on all thrusters. Romulans walking around the Federation
without a by-your-leave? It sounds like the worst kind of paranoid
delusion!"
"If it were anyone but a Vulcan saying this, I'd agree, Bones," Kirk
said. "But Sarek is definitely sane ... and if he's right about all
this, he's right that this poses a serious threat to Federation
security."
McCoy, catching sight of a change in the monitor, pointed wordlessly.
Amanda was awake.
Quietly, the three officers entered the sick woman's room.
Spock sat by Amanda's bedside, and his friends sat in the back of the
room, their silent presence offering quiet support.
Even though Amanda was conscious, she seemed unaware
of their presence.
Occasionally she would call "Sarek?" in a questioning tone, then pause,
plainly listening for a reply.
Spock's murmured "I am here, Mother, it is Spock" made no difference.
Amanda remained unresponsive to the voice of her son.
After a half-hour had passed, the Vulcan rose and motioned his friends
to join him in the corridor so he could speak freely.
"I will stay with her," he said. "I appreciate your presence, but I know
you have duties aboard ship."
McCoy nodded, understanding the Vulcan's unspoken plea for privacy.
Kirk cleared his throat. "If you would like some company, Spock ..."
The Vulcan nodded. "Your offer is appreciated, Jim, but at the moment
... I would prefer to be alone with her."
"I understand completely. If you change your mind ..." Spock was wearing
civilian clothing, a Vulcan robe, but he reached into the pocket and
removed his communicator and held it up.
"Okay," Kirk said.
McCoy put a hand on Spock's arm. "The same goes for me, Spock. She could
go on like this for some time. Don't forget to eat something today,
okay?"
The Vulcan nodded. "Is she in pain?"
"No, I don't believe so," McCoy said. "And, Spock?" He cleared his
throat awkwardly. "It's common for stroke victims to fixate on one
person or one thing. Sometimes the person can be sitting right there,
but the patient won't recognize them, so ... there's not much you can
do about it. Even if your father were here, she might not realize it."
"I understand, Doctor."
Spock gazed at his two friends, knowing there was nothing more to say.
Both Kirk and McCoy hesitated, then nodded, and silently turned away.
Sarek paced slowly down the corridor toward yet another negotiating
session. It was morning on Kidta, but the new day brought no lightening
of his spirits. The Vulcan wondered whether he should attempt to contact
Spock and inquire about his wife's condition. Sarek knew, only too well,
how angry Spock was over his failure to return home.
He knew that, under most circumstances, his son was as logical as any
Vulcan ... but he also knew how deeply Spock cared for his mother. As
he himself had once said to T'Lar, when it came to questions about the
welfare of a family member, one's logic became ... uncertain.
As the ambassador hesitated in the corridor of the conference center,
wanting to contact Spock, he was strangely reluctant. Sarek found
himself concentrating on Amanda, trying to feel her presence, sense her
mind through their bond. He closed his eyes, concentrating ...
concentrating ...
A thread, so faint ... he traced it, followed it, opening his mind,
sensing it. Amanda ... she was there, in his mind, but her mental
thread was weak ... was weakening, even as he touched it. Sarek's
breath caught in his throat as he realized that he was too late ... too
late. As he stood here in this hallway, his wife was dying.
Amanda/It was a mental cry of anguish that resonated within his mind.
Grief struck him like a blow, grief' and regret so agonizing that he
swayed as he stood.
Quickly, realizing he needed solitude, Sarek turned to a small, empty
conference chamber and entered it, not activating the lights. In the
darkness, with nothing to distract him, perhaps he could find her, could
reach her mind, even across space. It had been done before, by stronger
telepaths than he ... although he'd never been able to accomplish it.
But he had to try ...
Spock sat by his mother's bedside, holding her small, cold, wasted hand
in both his own, as though he could somehow transfer some of his own
strength to her by so doing. Amanda's blue eyes were open at the moment;
she had been semiconscious all afternoon.
The room was bathed in sunlight, and the monitoring devices were
subdued, nonintrusive.
As Spock watched her, wondering whether she would take a sip of water if
he offered it to her, Amanda's lips parted, and she spoke. Barely more
than a breath escaped--a breath that was a name.
"Sarek ..."
She had been calling him for hours, and the sound of it wrenched her
son's heart as nothing in his life ever had.
Spock leaned over and said, softly but distinctly, "I am here, Mother, I
am here. Spock ... I'm here with you, Mother."
She opened her eyes again, stared vacantly at him.
Fretfully, she tugged her hand away from his. "Sarek?" she murmured,
turning her head on the pillow, seeking someone who wasn't there.
"Mother?" Spock called softly. Amanda turned her head to gaze at him,
and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of warmth and recognition in
her eyes; then it faded. Her eyes moved again, and she stirred
restlessly.
"Sarek?"
Spock sighed. A few minutes later he coaxed her to take a sip of water
from a straw; then she seemed to slip off into a doze.
An hour later Amanda's right hand moved restlessly, plucking at the
coverlet. The Vulcan reached over to hold it.
This seemed to calm her for a few minutes, and she dropped off again.
Spock fell into a doze himself; he'd scarcely slept since this had
begun, and even his Vulcan constitution was wearing down. He jerked
awake an hour and thirty-two point nine minutes later, hearing his
mother call, "Sarek?" Her voice held such sadness, such utter desolation
that his throat tightened.
Glancing up at the monitors, he saw that the levels were
dropping ... she was fading, fading away. Healer T'Mal came in, checked
her patient, and when Spock, with a glance, whispered, "How long?," the
physician simply shook her head.
"Sarek?" Amanda's voice cracked on the word. Spock attempted to give her
some water, but she turned her head away, fretfully.
"Mother, it is Spock. I am here," he said aloud, seeing that her eyes
were wide open, and she was staring straight at him.
"Sarek?" she called.
This is unbearable. Spock got to his feet and paced restlessly around
the room. There is almost no possibility that Sarek will arrive in time.
But ... unless he is here, she will have no peace. I must find a way to
help her achieve tranquility, serenity ... but how?
Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. But was Amanda strong enough to
withstand what he had in mind?
Sarek sat alone in the dark, his head bowed in his hands, struggling to
reach his wife. With all his being he wanted to be with her at the end,
wanted to give her a sense of his presence along the tenuous pathway of
their bond. Sarek pressed his hands to his eyes, shutting out all light,
and proceeded to systematically blank out everything except the sense of
Amanda's presence in his mind. Am anda, I am here. My wife, I am with
you. Amanda ... I am with you ... hear me, know it is I. Amanda, my
wife, I am with you ...
Over and over he repeated his message, casting his mind along that
fragile link, not knowing whether he was succeeding His sense of her
presence grew, eclipsing everything else; his entire existence was
centered on the mental l
ink he shared with her. Memories flashed through
his mind, memories of times past--their wedding night, Spock's birth,
his Times with her, the heat of the passion between them seeming to fill
the whole world--and for a moment he thought he sensed that she was
sharing those memories with him. But he could not be certain ... could
not even be sure that she was aware of him. If she was unconscious, he
might be touching some last dream, instead of her thinking, conscious
mind.
Amanda ... my wife, I am with you. You have made my life better in so
many ways, and I thank you ... Amanda, feel my presence. I am with you
... Spock glanced reflexively at the monitors, and what he saw there
made him cross the room in one long stride. Am I too late? Spock's
fingers went to her head, brushing aside Amanda's hair, seeking the
proper contact points.
The Vulcan sent his mind out, searching, seeking his mother's
consciousness. She was almost gone ... Dimly he sensed her
personality, the last sparks of life and consciousness, and sent his
mind surging toward hers, seeking for contact. Desperately, he tried to
locate and link with that last, faint spark of life. He was determined
to give her peace, give her what she wanted so badly--her husband's
presence.
He would call up a memory of Sarek so vividly that she would believe his