A
Lesson In Logic
© by
Carol
'Caz' Hart
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Lead-In:
(TOS) This
short story story was inspired by an event mentioned in the animated episode
'Yesteryear.'A year before the events
in 'Yesteryear' take place, Spock, as a practical joke, calls out a healer
without cause. Now, he has to suffer the logical outcome of his actions.
Author:Cazcomes
from Robin Hood country aka Nottingham, England. She has lived
there all her life. She is a long time fan of all the Star Trek series
but especially The Original Series.
Spock
is her favourite character although she believes the Vulcan could not exist
without the support of his shipmates. She has been writing for more years
than she cares to remember and finds it challenging and stimulating. The
recent addition of a computer has proved a boon both for writing Star Trek
and her other love, art.
The
Story
To
five-year-old Spock, his father seemed a powerful and daunting figure at
the best of times. Now, sitting behind the wide expanse of his low desk,
justly annoyed at yet another childish prank from the fruitful soil of
his young son’s imagination, he appeared awesomely intimidating. None-the-less,
despite that overwhelming impression, Spock faced his father in the pose
of youthful respect, back straight, eyes forward, hands clasped behind
him, his features schooled to calm equanimity.
"This
will not do, Spock." Sarek began without preamble, his eyes dark and incalculable,
a result of his efforts to keep his considerable ire in check. "This behaviour
must end – and now. You are my son and, therefore, must show all Vulkhanir
that you are a responsible member of our society."
"Yes,
A’nirih." The answer was appropriately subdued, and if a slight quaver
shook the young voice, it was scarcely obvious.
Sarek
leaned forward, fingers steepled on the lacquered surface of the desktop,
his face successfully masking the painful disappointment that he experienced
on his son’s behalf. One winged brow arched upwards as he studied the boy,
a facial expression that Spock always found intriguing, but was unable
to emulate.
"You
are aware," Sarek continued evenly, still using the formal ‘you’ instead
of the familiar ‘thee’ to impress on Spock the seriousness of what he was
saying, "that as my son you must bear responsibilities that are necessarily
greater even than that of your contemporaries. Many eyes watch you, and
judge you from your actions. I recognize that it is, at times, a difficult
position to occupy, however, if you are a true Vulkhanir, I am confident
that you can, and will, prevail…"
For
an instant Sarek perceived doubt in Spock’s steadfast gaze. The boy’s eyes
wavered, flickered to the tiled flooring, before refocusing on Sarek’s
face. "I regret my conduct, A’nirih. It was thoughtless of me not to consider
the logical outcome of my actions and, therefore, to cause concern to both
thee and Mother…"
"Indeed."
Sarek agreed. He rose gracefully from the floor-stool and paced over to
the large window that opened out onto the wild, luxuriant growth of the
private grounds beyond, his hands clasped loosely in the small of his back.
The
peaceful scene always had the power to calm him and he remained there a
moment longer than necessary, well aware that his small son waited most
intently for the outcome of the foolishness that had summoned him there
so promptly. At last he turned to observe the boy, almost hesitating as
Spock’s innocent gaze met his own. The child was so young, little more
than an infant, so much like himself at that age – and yet so very different.
Not entirely Vulkhanir or fully Tehr’n, but an amalgamation
of both; it was an impediment he could not entirely comprehend. However,
if he was lenient with the child now it might well ruin any future life
Spock might have on his home planet. Vulkhanir was a harsh world,
an unforgiving instructor to the rash or foolhardy, where any imprudent
action could mean death. Any false kindness on his part would only serve
to increase the dangers later. There had to be discipline and self-control.
Honour and duty were the major tenets of every Vulkhanir. Their
present culture had been constructed upon the bedrock of obligation and
responsibility. He would not falter in those same doctrines to save his
son from a consequence his actions deserved.
"Spock-neha,"
His voice softened as he used the uncharacteristic endearment, "Child,
you understand do you not, the gravity of this thing you have done? To
call out a healer without due cause for an amusement, a…practical joke.
It cannot go unpunished."
"It
will not happen again, A’nirih. I promise."
"Until
the next time something similar occurs?" Sarek questioned brutally. "No,
Spock. I am unable to trust in your word any longer. Or your honour."
The
hurt was quite plain to see on the child’s expressive face until he swiftly
concealed his distress beneath an air of stoic calm. He swallowed hard.
"I understand, A’nirih."
Sarek
considered the boy closely. For the last year and a half, Spock had received
strict formal training from Master Shaanak in the Way of
T’lala. Sarek had insisted that his son become skilled at containing
his volatile emotions and under Master Shaanak’s tutelage, Spock had learned
a rudimentary control. However, Sarek was aware that Spock still resorted
to disturbing emotional behaviour when under stress, a shortcoming that
condemned him in the eyes of his peers and associates. The defect was the
starting place from which all Spock’s other problems and difficulties sprang.
However, even more disconcerting was the newly arisen circumstance where
Spock tried to conceal his inadequacy behind an artificial impassiveness.
He was beginning to excel at the deception to such an extent that even
Master Shaanak was misled. Sarek had deliberated long and hard on a logical
solution to the dilemma but, so far, without total success.
Looking
at his son, he resisted the urge to sigh, human fashion. However much he
respected and admired Amanda, his Tehr’n wife, on occasions such
as this, he sometimes questioned his judgment on bonding with her. It would
have been infinitely more reasonable to have complied with his Family’s
wishes and taken a consort from one of his own species.
More
logical perhaps but considerably less interesting, he silently conceded.
Kaiidth. What was, was. He had no real desire to change either his
wife or his son, whatever the difficulties and complications. Nevertheless,
Spock must be taught an important lesson, one that he would find impossible
to forget - a lesson in logic.
"Tomorrow
is Ienh’ssel, the Feast of Children, is it not?"
"It
is, sir."
The
boy’s tone though curious was also uncertain. He regarded his father with
wide-eyed speculation and Sarek sensed quite clearly his small son’s abrupt
nervousness.
He
continued with relentless determination, voice low and pleasantly modulated.
"And you were to accompany your mother and myself to Nevas’ashar, our
sister-planet, for the celebrations there…"
"Yes,
A’nirih."
The
hushed voice was less curious and a little more tentative Sarek noted with
appreciation. The trip to Nevas’ashar coincided with Spock’s natal
day. Sarek had meant it as a special commemorative gift to his son. The
boy had talked of little else for weeks.
He
changed tactics, satisfied that he had planted the correct seed within
Spock’s resourceful mind.
"Please
sit here, child." He indicated the vacant stool behind the desk and waited
until Spock dutifully complied, sitting with back straight and feet tucked
decorously beneath him. Sarek walked around to the other side of the low
table and knelt opposite. Their eyes were now on a level.
"Suppose
if you will, that it was I who called out Healer Sumhrok without need and
that it is now your duty to exact suitable punishment. What form would
that punishment take?"
The
boy considered him with unguarded wonderment before he managed to school
his expression. He dropped his gaze to inspect the reflection mirrored
in the desk’s lacquered surface, tracing his own bright image with a less
than sanitary finger as he gravely pondered the question.
Sarek
watched in silence. He certainly recognized the many options open to the
boy, yet he trusted that Spock would not shirk this responsibility and
select an inadequate retribution. However, as a precaution, among the several
alternatives that Spock might logically pick he was prepared to accept
only one.
There
was a long pause before Spock met his father’s sombre gaze once more. "I…believe
I would curtail some valued privilege, A’nirih."
"Such
as?" Sarek prompted serenely and saw Spock’s brow furrow in additional
thought. There were many things that his son cherished; his lessons in
computing; the hour before his bedtime when he played with Ee-chiya
in the wild garden; his music instruction or the Tehr’n storybooks
he loved to read. Sarek did not consider any of them sufficient recompense
for what Spock had done.
"If
I gave back the Festival Gift of the new sand kart, A’nirih…?" It was an
eager suggestion, one that in any other circumstance, Sarek might well
have accepted.
"You
believe that adequate compensation?"
"I
do, sir." The boy looked at him hopefully, no doubt for signs of reprieve.
He found none in his father’s cool regard.
Sarek’s
eyebrow rose a quarter inch. "I do not."
"A’nirih,
I am truly repentant." Spock tried not to squirm before Sarek’s dark-eyed
gaze that surrendered nothing, quite aware of his father’s ruthless purpose
but still reluctant to comply with it.
"Indeed?"
The look Sarek bestowed upon him was sardonic, imperturbable and without
mercy.
The
boy sighed, unwilling to pronounce his own sentence, yet understanding
that Sarek was not prepared to accept any other alternative. It came extraordinarily
hard but it was better to capitulate willingly than lose what dignity he
still possessed. In the face of Sarek’s antagonism, the outcome could only
be the same. "Thee wishes me to give up the trip to Nevas’ashar, A’nirih?"
Sarek
allowed his hard mouth to soften subtly in approval, a look Amanda recognised
as not quite a smile. He beckoned Spock from behind the desk, observing
the openly displayed disappointment, making a mental note to speak with
Master Shaanak on the matter. "I believe that is an appropriate recourse,
child."
Gently,
he reached out to lift the boy’s chin with one long finger. "However, it
would be a pity to waste that excellent sand kart. Tomorrow you may have
it as promised. Perhaps in the future you will remember your lessons in
logic and think before you act, neh?"
"Certainly,
A’nirih."
"I
believe you owe an apology to Healer Sumhrok."
"Indeed,
A’nirih." Still with an air of dejection, Spock headed for the door.
"And
Spock, one more thing…"
"Sir?"
"I
am proud of thee."
Copyright 2002
The End
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