Chapter 15 – The Questions

Spock:  I don't believe our own conduct will distinguish us in the annals of diplomacy.
Kirk:  I'm going to sleep it off.  Let me know if there's some other way we can screw up tonight.
(ST: The Undiscovered Country)


Li sat at her desk watching the young woman before her pace.  And pace.  And pace.  After the terrible shock of hearing her name in association with the Vulcan ambassador's son, Amanda had been too upset to go back to her apartment.  Li had insisted that she remain at the Earth embassy until she calmed down.  Perhaps they could attempt to sort out what had been said and if there had been a mistake made.

"Please sit down," the petite older woman said as she motioned toward a chair.

"I can't.  Not yet."

"When, then?  You're starting to remind me of a tennis match."  Li gave her a hopeful smile, but Amanda didn't see it.  She was focused on the bizarre situation that somehow involved the Vulcan ambassador's son…and her.  She'd turned it over and over in her mind, and so far, there was only one thought that kept repeating itself: The entire premise was illogical.  She'd never even MET the ambassador's son and certainly wasn't entertaining thoughts of marriage.  How did Skon know her name?  He didn't know her at all except in passing, and that had been over three years ago.  And, for goodness sakes, when did he decide that she would be interested in becoming a bondsmate to his son?  Or, was there another Amanda that was involved?  She'd listened to the tape repeatedly, and there was no mistake in the enunciation of the person's name.  While her name wasn't unusual, it wasn't nearly as common as it had been in the past.  She'd always been displeased by the old, traditional name due to the number of people who liked to say that it was quaint.  She wasn't quaint, and didn't enjoy being linked to the Grayson tradition of using only a few established family names.  

"What do you plan to do?  Who would know more about this?" Li asked as Amanda slowed to face her, her hands outstretched in front of her as she tapped her fingertips in an edgy fashion.

"When I first realized that Skon had said my name, my first impulse was to go screaming to the Vulcan Embassy, pound on the gates, and demand an explanation."  She softly snorted at that.  "I can just see it now.  'Hi, my name is Amanda, and I've just been informed that I'm supposed to marry your son… oh, how did I find out?  Well, I work at the Earth embassy as a translator, and I was listening to a communication that our embassy illegally obtained of you and your wife...'"

"You're right, that's not a good plan," Li said, pleased to see that the girl was trying to find some humor in the situation.  "You know, he didn't say marry.  Both you and Neblett said bondsmate.  What does that mean?  Is there a difference between a wife and a bondsmate?"

"There is, I guess," Amanda concluded as she began to nervously pace again.  "Li, what I'm about to tell you is very confidential."  She waited until the woman nodded before continuing.  "Vulcans are bonded as children.  T'Spia told me that she and her bondsmate were seven years old at the time of their ceremony.  It's a psychic bond that's unique because it's permanent.  It can't be severed, according to what I've been told."

"Interesting," Li replied as she grimaced.  "I wish you'd sit down."  She was ignored.

"Most of what I gathered was like pulling teeth," Amanda simply said.  "The wedding ceremony itself is something that T'Spia refused to discuss with me.  I don't know why, except that anytime I accidentally stumbled onto something she considered too personal or explicit, she'd clam up and refuse to answer my questions.  Perhaps there's more to the wedding than just walking down the aisle."

"If Vulcans even do that," Li noted. 

Amanda bit her lip and nodded. "That's true.  I need to stop thinking in terms of what I'm accustomed to."

"Other than the ambassador and his wife, who else might know about this?" Li asked.

"That's something I'm not sure of," the girl softly intoned.  She knew her parents would never agree to such an arrangement, especially considering how upset her dad had been simply by her moving in with the `New Utopia' members for a short time.  He certainly wouldn't allow her to become a bondsmate.  That thought comforted her as she stopped and took in a deep breath.  "I would assume that the ambassador would have to get approval from his Family."

"Family… meaning his Clan?"  Li asked.  She knew some of the fundamentals of Vulcan society, but was no expert.

"Not just the Clan," Amanda replied.  "I'd think that he'd have to get more than just their approval.  This would likely be an event that the entire House would have to agree to."

"So, the House leader would know," the older woman said as she watched the concentration on the girl's face.  She pursed her lips as Amanda began her pacing again.

"Yes, that's likely," the girl stated.  "Usually, the household is presided over by a Family Matriarch.  The fact that Vulcan is so inaccessible to outsiders makes this a bit of a guess, but I was led to believe that the whole of Vulcan society itself is generally based on a matriarchy; however, outside of the influence of Vulcan, the acknowledged leaders tend to be male.  I believe that's because most of the planetary systems that the Vulcans deal with have a male-dominated societal base."

"So, when in Rome." Li said as she nodded her understanding of the intriguing facts the 17-year-old seemed to be familiar with.

"Yes, exactly," Amanda agreed.  "Again, my information is limited by the restrictions the Vulcans put on what they'd tell us, but when I asked Osavensu Tolak about the reasons for what I felt was a split between the public and private culture of Vulcans, he would only say that there were times when it was best for the serenity of women to dominate.  I'd always assumed that he was just humoring me, but it's possible that there's a more significant reason for his answer."

"Another question is this… what do you know about Skon's sons?" Li inquired as she watched Amanda blink in surprise.  "You did know that he has two sons, right?"

"No," the girl replied.  "I thought he only had one."

"He has another son on Vulcan who is younger than Sarek.  I believe his name is Selek, or Silek?  Something like that," Li declared as she shook her head.  "Those Vulcan names all start to sound alike after awhile."

"A younger son," Amanda repeated as she considered that unexpected news.  "I see.  I guess he's the son Skon is talking about since Sarek is married.  What I can't figure out is that T'Spia told me that Vulcans bond at a very early age.  Why would either son be looking for a bondsmate, especially a human?"

Li nearly opened her mouth to question whether or not Vulcans were monogamous, but such a suggestion would only make matter worse.  "Vulcans are rather notorious for their pursuit of duty above all.  Maybe Skon plans for this bonding to be a show of good faith?  Kind of a indicator of the improved relations between our two species?"

"I'm not interested in becoming a sacrifice to the gods of political procedure," Amanda sniffed as a scowl settled on her features.  "I don't want to be branded simply as the first human to be bonded with a Vulcan, held up as some example of cooperation, or some such nonsense."  Although her words were resolute, there was a strong undercurrent of fear that Li picked up on as Amanda continued.  "I won't allow myself to be used like that.  Now that I know what Skon has planned, I can avoid the Vulcan Embassy and anyone associated with it."

"You know, Skon did say that they were seeking a Vulcan bondsmate if the human – you – wasn't available."

"I'm not surprised that he'd have a back-up plan," Amanda said as she felt some of the butterflies settle in her stomach.  "That's the plan he'll have to use.  It's interesting to me that, with all the messages I transcribed, I never heard mention of my name.  Apparently, Skon made a very uncharacteristic error.  Vulcans rarely make mistakes."          

"Knowing the inscrutable Vulcans as I do, you're right," Li said as she stretched.  It was extremely late, and the only light on their level came from her office.  "Do you feel well enough to go to your apartment?"

"I didn't feel sick in the first place," the girl retorted, but then mulled over her initial reaction and shrugged.  "A little queasy, maybe.  I never expected to hear my name on one of the transmission tapes, especially in association with a bonding ceremony."

"Yes, it was a shock," Li granted as she stood.  "I hate to add to your worries, but Agani will likely ask to meet with you in the morning once she'd read the report."

"I know," Amanda said with a sigh.  "But, what can I do?  I know as much about this as you do and I'll talk with her after classes.  The confidentiality guidelines are going to be sorely tested… I really hope that Neblett doesn't tell anyone about this."

"He won't.  He's a stickler for the rules," the petite woman offered as they left the office and went to the lifts.  "Amanda," Li asked, a catch of hesitation in her voice.  "What about the timeline?  You said that Vulcans bond when they're just children.  You're seventeen.  When do you believe Skon planned for this bonding to take place?"

"That's the big question," the girl softly answered.  "I don't know."

"Well," Li said as they entered the lift.  "Understanding Skon as I do, I know that he wouldn't do anything to damage the reputation of Vulcan.  My rather old-fashioned sensibilities are not keen on the thought of a minor child being involved in a marriage ceremony, and that would be the reaction of most humans.  You're going to be eighteen this fall..."

"...And I'd be considered an adult by human standards at that time.  Yes, that does make sense," Amanda agreed as they exited the lift and entered the darkened foyer.  A security light came on as they walked toward the exit.  "I still don't know why Skon would select me.  He allowed me to take the course at the Vulcan Embassy, and I was able to become friends with T'Spia.  I still don't know why she never contacted me after she returned to Vulcan."

"Maybe Skon had something to do with that, too," Li said as they left the building and made their way to the parking area.  "Listen, it's very late.  Let me give you a ride back to campus."

"Thank you," Amanda gratefully replied.  "I didn't want to take the shuttle this late at night."

"Not a problem," the older woman lightly said as they walked to her flitter.  "Tell me something.  What did you mean by 'human standards'?  When do Vulcans consider themselves adults?"

Amanda smiled as she considered the question.  "To be honest, I'm not certain.  T'Spia was 32 years old, and deferred a great deal to her family.  I would have to make another assumption and guess that a Vulcan would be around thirty-six or so, if you use the 'double' standard.  I was always told to look at a Vulcan, guess their age, and multiply it by at least two."

Li chuckled in spite of her concern.  "Yes, I was told the same.  So, based on that estimate, a Vulcan would look at you and guess that you were eight."

"Thanks for that," Amanda grumbled.  "That's just what I needed to hear."

The ride back to campus was strangely muted, as Li considered what could be done to discover more about Skon's plan and Amanda quietly mused on how effortlessly she could find herself in the middle of a dilemma.  Obviously, the Vulcan Ambassador had some motive for selecting her, but how did he hope to convince her to consent to such a scheme?  That worried her more than any other aspect of the revelations that evening.  Vulcans weren't known for guesswork; therefore, he must be fairly certain that she'd agree.  But, why?

"Are you going to be all right?" Li asked as she pulled up to the resident hall.

"Yes, I'm fine now," Amanda answered as she waited for the door to slide open.  "Please tell Ambassador Agani that I'll speak with her as soon as I arrive."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." 

Amanda watched the flitter as it sped off.  The walk to her apartment was filled with the same unanswered questions.  Why?  How?  When?  She had never been a fan of mysteries, and this one was a monster.  There had to be someone else who knew what was going on, but who?

As she entered her apartment, a thought struck her like a thunderbolt.  Wide-eyed, she recalled several comments that T'Spia had made about her 'understanding' Vulcan mores and ceremonial events `in time'.  Amanda had dismissed the vague comments as typical T'Spia double-talk.  Now.

Checking her credit balance, she grimaced as she realized the cost of a call to Vulcan would wipe out most of her savings.  She had to find a way to contact T'Spia and get some answers.  Maybe if she casually contacted the Vulcan Embassy to inquire about her friend?  Would that raise any suspicions?  It likely would, but what else could she do?  Contact the ambassador directly?  Act as if she'd been told about the ceremony from some other source?  What if Skon wanted to know who told her?  What would she say?  Or.did she dare try to contact Silek?  What was his opinion of this?

Checking the monitor connections, she increased the field options and began to do some investigating of her own.  It was a simple matter to find a few holopics of Ambassador Skon and his wife.  Amanda was again struck by the Vulcan woman's austere beauty, which somehow emphasized the Ambassador's own self-possessed air of authority and power.  A search for information on Silek didn't yield any results other than to alert a security web, which began to question her access to private citizen of Vulcan information.  She had no choice other than to shut down the system.  After wrinkling her nose at the unforeseen block, she rebooted and decided to approach from a different angle.  If she couldn't find out anything on Silek, who wasn't in the public eye, then she would have to find out more about Sarek.  He was a diplomat, after all, and since he was on Earth, there was the possibility that she could contact him directly.

A search ultimately resulted in a few shards of information, which confirmed several things she'd suspected.  First, in a transcript of an old interview with Skon, a passing mention was made of Sarek's wife, who was named T'Rea.  Second, Sarek was a rising diplomatic star and was being groomed as the next Vulcan ambassador.  Third.  She frowned at the holopic as it appeared on the screen.  There was no official portrait or pic taken that she could find of Skon's eldest.  The one picture that she did find was not of the highest resolution and was taken of a group of delegates from the Sigma quadrant just prior to the disaster. 

Staring at it as if it would offer her some clues, she was first struck by the similarities between Sarek and his father.  Both had the same strong features and aristocratic bearing that seemed to be a family trait.  She didn't care for the rather stern look on the son's face that was unlike his father's more sedate appearance.  "Too Vulcan for his own good," she mumbled as she continued to analyze the pic.  Maybe it wasn't a good day for him… maybe he'd lost a debate… maybe he just wasn't in the mood to have his picture taken.  That one she could empathize with.  How many of the holopics her dad had insisted upon taking of her and her brothers were ones she liked?  Her dad's talent of following her around with a camera when she wasn't in the mood for a pic used to drive her crazy.  How many scowling portraits did one parent need? 

Another thing caught her attention even as she yawned and firmly blinked her exhausted eyes.  Sarek was several centimeters taller than the next closest person standing near him.  In fact, he appeared to be the tallest of the Sigma delegates, indicating to her that he was probably as tall as her dad.  Studying the pic like she would a biology specimen, Amanda wondered about Silek.  Would he have the same color eyes?  What were they, anyway… brown?  Would he have the same haughty lift of his chin?  Was he as thin?  No amount of manipulation would give her a clear picture.  Would he be as tall as his brother?  Maybe it was the late hour, but she started to softly chuckle as she realized what she was doing.  What did it matter what Silek looked like!  She wasn't going to marry him, for goodness sake!  Knowing that she wasn't going to be satisfied with one small pic, she continued to look for additional pictures of the Vulcan embassy staff.  Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any additional images that included Sarek, and as she listened to the chime of the Campanile, she shut down the system and prepared for bed.  The anxious fluttering that had troubled her stomach since she'd first heard the transmission was gone, and as she pulled the covers over her head, she closed her eyes.  The Sigma delegates appeared in her mind's eye, and in the center of the group was Silek's brother.

"Sarek," she clumsily whispered.  She snorted as she considered how she was probably mispronouncing his name.  Still.  Strange, she thought as sleep overcame her, how Sarek sounded better to her ears than Silek.

----         

Now that the months of negotiations were complete, Skon allowed himself a rare moment to unwind and slump into his seat on the diplomatic ship Amity Bay.  He had been loath to become involved in the negotiations between the Vegans and his people; however, stalemate after stalemate had resulted in the Council sending him and several other senior diplomats to their system.  Sarek had been left in charge of the embassy, but even he had to leave Earth to return to Vulcan when Silek contacted him.  Skon was greatly dismayed by his inability to attend his youngest son's marriage ceremony, but he had been told that all had gone well.  Despite that assurance, he knew that his only proof that all was well would be the announcement of an increase to his family.  That would be quite pleasing to him.

As the sparkling blue orb filled the black star-filled screen, Skon felt a certain affinity with the residents of such a planet.  Most Vulcans saw Earth as too watery and tame.  His initial attitude had been much the same; but over time, he saw the power in the crashing waves on the beachfronts, the thunderstorms that were reminiscent of the violent sandstorms he was familiar with… all within the universe correlated.  Surak had been right in stating that differences should be celebrated and not disdained.  The time spent in seemingly fruitless negotiations did allow him some moments to consider the best approach when discussing the bonding ceremony for his son and future daughter.  He would contact Amanda's father upon his arrival planet side.  Once he verified John's intentions, he would then ask to speak to the girl if the bonding was agreed to.

Several senior staff members and his son were present upon his arrival back to the embassy.  While Sennar briefed him on the events of the past few months, Sarek followed respectfully just behind his left shoulder.  It wasn't until they entered the ambassador's office and Sennar ended his discourse that Skon faced his son. "All is well, Sarek?" he asked as he watched the impassive façade tighten.

"Yes, Father," Sarek replied as they made their way to the windows.  The sun was just beginning to appear on the horizon, and the long shadows gave the panoramic view an artificial look of a landscape painting.

"Your brother has not yet contacted us.  Have you heard from him?"

"Yes," Sarek replied.  His eyes followed the tendrils of road and skyways that were increasingly becoming filled with vehicles.  "He wished to congratulate you, Father.  Your House shall see an increase."

"Indeed?"  Skon said as he turned to Sarek.  "That is most pleasing."

"Yes, most pleasing," Sarek agreed.  There was no condescending tone present.  The expected child was to be a most welcome addition to the Family, and Sarek could put aside his own situation to celebrate the good news.

"I shall contact him and T'Kas," Skon decided as he handed Sennar a folder containing details of the Vegan discussions.  "I also understand that Soran has returned to Vulcan."

"Yes," Sarek said as his expression lightened.  Soran had been uncharacteristically forgetful for several weeks leading up to his departure, and Sarek had finally urged him to book passage to Vulcan earlier than either had projected.  "He wanted to be present at the birth of his son, and he was concerned about T'Sar."

"He was also of little assistance with his thoughts elsewhere," Skon concluded, and Sarek agreed with a nod.

"Indeed," the senior diplomat softly replied.  The window view now revealed the multihued burst of spring that had enveloped the city.  The fresh splashes of color in the landscape had an interesting effect on the inhabitants of the planet.  Sarek had noticed that joint meetings between the Vulcan and Earth Embassies had a 34.524 percent increase in cooperation and agreement if the weather was 'perfect', as humans were fond of saying.

Sarek and Sennar left the Ambassadorial office and returned to their respective duties.  Skon briefly considered having Sennar contact John Grayson, but that would seem impersonal.  No, he would do it himself.

Several minutes passed as he observed the flashing connection light indicate a link.  The satellite office of the Earth embassy he contacted, located in Boston, was one of several located on the planet.  The surprised look on the receptionist's face indicated to Skon that few Vulcans contacted the smaller office.  The screen darkened, and then John appeared.

"Ambassador," the human respectfully said as a greeting. 

Skon also noted the use of his title… perhaps John felt that a reminder of his position would sway him in some fashion? "Mr. Grayson," Skon replied in kind.  "There are now 126 days until your daughter's eighteenth birthday.  I thought it time to contact you."

"Yes, I thought you would," John tensely stated.  "I would like to send you a partial payment on the tuition, but wasn't sure just how to do that."

"A partial payment?" the ambassador repeated, one eyebrow raised.  "What purpose would be served by such an action?"

"It's called good faith," the human said, his tone low.

"You do not have the tuition," Skon declared.  It wasn't a question, and he knew the truth as he watched the reddening face on the screen.

"No, damn it, I don't have it all!" John shouted.  "I will pay you back!  You have to believe me!"

"Our agreement is still in force."

"No," the human angrily spat out.  "No, I won't allow you to take my daughter.  All I have to do is go to the media, and that will be the end of this."

"I see," Skon carefully acknowledged after a moment.  The fury directed at him was palpable, and he knew it was time to diffuse the volatile situation.  "What will you say to the media?  I did not coerce you into accepting the tuition.  I have recorded proof of our conversations.  You agreed fully to either repay the tuition or allow your daughter to become my son's bondsmate.  There was no deception on my part."

John sat for a moment in stunned silence.  What Skon was saying was true, however. "Do you know what will happen if the media gets wind of an arranged marriage between your son…what, he's now 59?…and my daughter, who will only be 18?  Don't you realize how that will play here?"

"Play?" Skon repeated in obvious confusion.  "I do not understand.  There is nothing recreational about our agreement."

"I mean that it will be seen as a serious aberration of our customs."

"And yet you agreed," the Vulcan said as a reminder.  John scowled as he sharply nodded his head.

"I did agree, but only because I knew that I could get the tuition money.  Now, that doesn't seem to be possible."  He didn't want to admit defeat, but the amendment trail hadn't surrendered any clues, and he was running out of time.

"If it isn't possible, then you must consent to our children's bonding."

"No," John vehemently replied.  "I don't have to agree to such a thing.  I'll get the credits to you somehow.  Don't you dare contact Amanda about this, either!  She doesn't know, and she never will!"

Silence followed for several seconds as Skon listened to the ragged breath of the human before him. "Very well," the Vulcan said in closing.  "You have one hundred and twenty-six days."

The screen went dark.

"So, tell me, Matty.how many days until the 'big day'?"

Matt grinned at his sister as they were propelled forward on the pedwalk.  "You should know," he said with an affectionate hug.  "How many days until your birthday?"

Amanda shrugged even as she excitedly pointed.  "Oh, there's the place!  That's the perfect shop for you to find Ming's present."

They stepped off the pedwalk and entered the small boutique on Newbury Street.  The area was accessible only to pedestrian traffic and was a very popular shopping destination.  While Maura was searching for a dress that was appropriate for the mother of the groom, and Ming was occupied entertaining her father, Amanda had been given the task of keeping her big brother sane by assisting him in getting his fiancée a gift for her birthday, which was today.  The wedding plans were moving forward now that Matt had completed his spring semester at Harvard and Ming had cut back on her hours at her museum job.  The couple had decided on an autumn wedding in order to take advantage of the fall foliage and the gorgeous outdoor location they found.

"You did get the confirmation from that man at Independence Harbor, didn't you?" Amanda asked as they entered the boutique.  The strong aroma of scented candles surrounded them as the violins of a classical piece played in the background.  "Oh, and the music!  Did you get that quartet Ming wanted?"

"Yes, Mother," Matt teased as Amanda glared at him.  "Don't look at me like that!  The quartet is booked, the ceremony site has been reserved since November, and the rings are bought, sized, and ready to go.  Anything else?"

The girl wrinkled her nose.  "I'm just trying to help.  What about the guest list?  Were you able to convince mother that she didn't need to invite the entire Eastern seaboard?"

Chuckling, Matt nodded as he examined some fine porcelain sculptures.  "After discussing it with Ming's father, she agreed to 150.  At least she and Mr. Jin aren't at each other's throats yet." 

"That's a miracle," Amanda replied as she watched her brother pick up one of the smaller sculptures on a glass shelf.  "That's the one, Matty.  She'll love that one."

"Oh, you think so?" he said even as he knew it was in his heart.  The beautifully crafted piece was of a couple kissing.  Even the coloring of the dark haired, petite woman and fair-skinned man was right.  Markedly separated from each other from the top except where their lips touched, the couple seemed to mould together as the eye traveled down to the solid base.

"Yes, I'm sure," Amanda stated as she shooed him toward the cashier.  "Now, go pay for it and let's move on.  They should wrap it here for the price you're paying.  Oh, and you'll need to make reservations for dinner tonight."

"Already did," Matt firmly said with a touch of exasperation.  "I'm not completely incompetent, Amanda!  Let me pay for this and we'll go grab some lunch."

"Do we have time?"

"We'll make the time," Matt answered with a laugh.  "The wedding plans are coming together just fine, and I see no reason to panic."

"But, there are only twenty-two days left, and I'm leaving tomorrow to start classes on Monday!" Amanda explained as she and Matt waited near the counter while another customer was being served.  "Let me think… you wrote the memorial speech in honor of Ming's mother to be read during the service, your friend Maila is going to sing some god-awful mushy love song, the flowers are ordered."

"Have you ever considered a career as a wedding planner?" Matt solemnly intoned before a smile broke his serious veneer.  Amanda playfully bumped into him, but only once the sculpture was out of his hands.

"What about the honeymoon?  Where are you going?" Amanda asked as she and Matt left the store with the wrapped gift.

"None of your business, nosy," Matt said warmly.  "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise for Ming."

"I wouldn't tell her!" Amanda exclaimed.  "I wouldn't!  But… how will she know what clothes to bring?  What if she packs a bikini, and you take her to the Alps?  You have to give her some idea."

"Maybe she won't need clothes at all," Matt joked as he enjoyed the flustered blush that colored his sister's face.

"Very funny," Amanda mumbled as they stepped back onto the pedwalk that would take them to the restaurant district.  "You can't stay in bed for a week."

"Says who?" he teased as Amanda rolled her eyes.

"Whatever fantasy you believe, dear," she said in a condescending tone.  She couldn't keep up the act of snobbish indifference as Matt knowingly nudged her several times and she started to giggle.

They'd had a terrific time together since she'd arrived in Boston.  As soon as her finals were over at Cal, she verified that she could keep her resident hall apartment without having to move out for the summer.  Fortunately, the building she was in permitted students to stay year round, so that wasn't a problem.  Her problem now was in finding another job.  Shortly after she heard the shocking transmission about the bonding ceremony, all intercepts from the Vulcan embassy ceased.  Agani had briefly discussed the message with Amanda, but since it appeared to be of a personal nature and was only a projection of a possible event, the Ambassador believed it was best to drop the matter.  It took only a few weeks to complete the backlog of tapes, and since Amanda had no other formal embassy training other than that of a translator, her services were no longer needed.  It also didn't help that a joint linguistic venture between several different worlds had resulted in a device called a 'Universal Translator'.  With its installation, the job of language translation appeared to be obsolete. 

Amanda had been able to save some credits, and with summer in full swing, she decided to take advantage of her parent's invitation to stay with them until classes started again in the fall.  The impending wedding took up much of their time, and by the time summer began to wind down, all the plans appeared to be in place.  The Saturday wedding would occur only 9 days after her birthday, and while classes would be in session at that time, she'd already made arrangements to miss the Friday before.  Amanda was thrilled when Ming asked if she'd be one of the bridesmaids, and she didn't even mind the frilly floor-length dress.  It was worth all the stress and aggravation when she could see how happy her brother was.

"Has Danny had his penguin fitting yet?" Amanda asked as they stepped off the walk and entered a small café that was one of her favorites.

"Yes, finally," Matt said with a touch of irritation.  "Tracking him down wasn't easy, and now he's wandered all the way to Australia.  How he got there I'll never figure out."

"He's probably chasing one of his many girlfriends," Amanda knowingly said.  "He acts like it's his job to have a date every day of the year."

"That's true," the young man said as they were led to a table.  "I just wish he'd settle down long enough to finish college."

"He has to know what he wants to do first," Amanda replied.  "He's not like you, and he never will be.  While you have a year left before your graduation and have a plan for your life, Danny just likes to live day to day with no worries and no idea what the next day will bring.  I prefer to have some thought of where I'm going and what I'm going to do."

"And that's why you'll be a success some day," Matt lovingly said.  "You're smart, pretty, and have goals.  You'll go far."

"Right now, I prefer to limit my goals to what to have for lunch," his sister affably remarked.  As they scanned the menu, Amanda's thoughts turned from her brother's wedding to the situation with Silek.  A bonding ceremony wasn't a wedding as far as she understood it.  She kept wondering when someone from the Vulcan embassy would attempt to contact her, but there had been nothing.  Perhaps Ambassador Skon had reconsidered.

"Hey, this is interesting," Matt said as he pointed out a netnews feed that was streaming across their tabletop.  Amanda scooted her chair around to read what her brother was so engrossed with.

"Another bio threat?" Amanda moaned as she read the story.  While seemingly dormant for several years, the extremist group that had targeted the Vulcan embassy when she'd attended the course had begun to send menacing feeds to the media services.  Most of their hostilities were directed at any non-human beings that were on Earth. 

"Yes, and apparently the authorities are worried about it," Matt gravely replied.  "All of the planetary government buildings are in lockdown.  Something must have been discovered."

"I hope it's not too serious," Amanda said in a hopeful tone.  Even as she spoke, Matt's message pager sounded.

"I'll be back in a moment," he said as he stood and walked toward a quieter spot near the back of the café.  Despite the likelihood that it was nothing serious, a sense of dread began to creep into her thoughts.  The fact that they'd been reading such dire news was probably the cause, but that did nothing to console her.

"We have to go," Matt demanded as he rushed past her.  Amanda started at the unexpected brusque manner as she got to her feet and ran to catch up with him.

"What's wrong?  What's happened?" she cried as he ignored the pedwalks and made a beeline toward a line of taxis.  Jumping in one, Amanda barely had time to buckle up before the flitter took off.

"Mass General," Matt said into the inquiry box.  The flitter took the command and, changing directions, began to track toward the hospital.

"Matt, you're scaring me!  What's wrong?" Amanda fearfully asked.  Her brother had closed his eyes even as he cradled his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

"There's been an incident at dad's office," the young man softly replied.  "They think that it's a bioweapon."

"No!" the girl screamed as the hospital complex came into view.  "No, Matty!  That can't be true!"

"Dad's been taken to the isolation ward at Mass General.  Mother is hysterical, and I need to contact Dan.  The prognosis sounds grim."

"No," Amanda whispered, too horror-struck to yell out again.  While Matt called their brother, the reality of the situation began to exert its toll, and she started to cry.  She could hear Matt demanding that Dan take the next shuttle to Boston, and when he was finished, he put a comforting arm around her.  She sagged heavily into his chest and for several minutes, the only sound was her muffled sobs. 

The flitter placed them at the entrance to the hospital, and as Matt paid for the ride, Amanda ran into the entrance and to a bank of lifts.  Her brother caught up just as a lift arrived, and they were taken to the waiting area of the isolation ward.  The neutrally decorated room was filled to capacity with silent friends and family of those stricken at the embassy.  No one appeared to be capable of speech as they waited for news of their loved ones.  Maura began to cry when she saw Matt and Amanda, and they each took a seat on either side of their shaken mother.  Amanda had never seen such a look of panic on anyone's face, and she wondered if her appearance mirrored that of her mother.

Several hours passed with no word on the condition of John Grayson.  Several doctors had called out some of the family members of other embassy staff, and those people didn't return to the waiting area.  Amanda fretfully worried about their absence.  Were they visiting the ill person, or was there no reason for them to be there anymore?  She shivered, and Maura glanced over at her.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she said with as much conviction as she could muster.  "Your dad has never been sick a day in his life.  He'll be fine."

"I hope so," Amanda softly replied.

"Don't say that!" Maura hissed as Matt put his arm around her, more to turn her attention away from Amanda than anything else.  "Your dad will be fine."

"Of course, Mother," Matt said sympathetically.  He looked over his mother's head and could see that Amanda was close to tears again.

"Mrs. Grayson?"

The family looked up as one as a doctor motioned for them to rise and follow her.  Amanda fought the urge to ask if her dad was still alive as they were led down a corridor toward a guarded double door.  Matt was the first to speak.

"Doctor, is my father going to make it?"

"We're going everything we can," the doctor answered as she handed one of the guards a pass.  "This is a highly restricted area, but I wanted you to have a chance to see your father."

...before it's too late, Amanda morosely added.

The ward was separated into several sections, and they were permitted access only to the first area, which allowed them to see into John's room.  He was lying motionless under a heavy blanket of machinery.  The monitors over his head were perilously low, and Amanda choked back a sob when she saw his face.  It was mottled and pale, with the right side of his face speckled crimson with broken capillaries.  If it wasn't for the identification code at the bottom of his bed, she might not have believed that it was her dad. 

"He's been unconscious since the incident," the doctor provided as she addressed Matt.  "If there is any good news in this, it's that your father's office was at the far end of the building from where the toxic release occurred.  He might not have been as strongly affected due to that distance."

"What about the others?" Matt inquired as he observed several other beds occupied. 

"We can only do what we can and provide the antidote our team of specialists recommends.  At this point, our scanners don't indicate any further deterioration.  It's difficult to get a complete reading when dealing with an unknown macromolecular antigen."

"What about a bioscan?" Amanda asked as the doctor turned her curious gaze on the girl.

"That technology is only experimental," the woman said dismissively.  She turned to address Maura.  "You must believe that we're going everything within our power to save your husband."

"Thank you," Maura quietly responded as she continued to stare at the occupied bed. 

The doctor left, and the three stood along the transparent wall that separated them from their husband and father.  Amanda wasn't even sure when Dan arrived, except that he was there when she finally forced her eyes away from the terrible sight. 

As the hours slowly passed, there was no improvement in John's condition.  Matt had contacted Ming to ask that she remain with her father since there wasn't anything she could do at the hospital.  Amanda could hear the regret in her brother's voice as he mentioned a possible postponement of the wedding.

It was late in the evening when Amanda finally fell into a fitful sleep in one of the moulded resin chairs in the waiting room.  She was only asleep for a few minutes when her eyes flew open and she nearly tumbled out of her seat as an idea presented itself.  Mass General was considered one of the premiere hospitals on Earth, and yet it didn't even have the bioscan technology that the Vulcans did.  Plus, she remembered a passing remark that T'Spia had made about the medical advances that were regrettably needed by her people after several bio attacks.  The answer to her dad's health crisis wasn't in Boston, and there was only one thing she could do.

Matt, Dan, and Maura were restlessly sleeping in chairs nearby as Amanda left the waiting area and made her way down to the main entrance.  A taxi was noiselessly waiting as she accessed it.  Once at her parent's apartment, she swiftly packed and verified that she could take an earlier shuttle back to San Francisco.  With that confirmation, she breathed a sigh of relief.  There was no doubt in her mind that the Vulcans had the cure to the bioweapon the terrorists had used.  She couldn't just sit around and watch her dad's condition worsen with each passing hour.

Whatever it took, she was going to get help.

Chapter 16 – The Curse

Spock:  Emotional, isn't she?
Sarek:  She has always been so.
(ST-TOS  Journey to Babel)


It took no longer for the shuttle to reach San Francisco than at any other time in the past; however, to Amanda, the journey seemed to be an endless nightmare.  She did her best to avoid any of the newsfeeds that were blaring out the reports of the bio attack, but it was useless.  Everyone around her seemed to be caught up in learning the latest from Boston, and no matter how she tried to isolate herself, it was inevitable that she overheard some snippet of bad news. 

The Boston office had thirty-two people present at the time of the attack, and already twenty-four had died.  Those least affected had been in offices near her dad, but that was little comfort since they were all in critical condition.  Word on the treatment of those affected wasn't encouraging, either.  While she expected a frantic call from her mother or brothers at any moment, Amanda was certain that she was doing the right thing.  The Vulcans would have the ability to help save her dad and the others injured by the attack.  She knew it like she knew the alphabet... it was simply going to be.

Once in San Francisco, the familiar route to the embassy was a comfort as she automatically made the transfer to another shuttle.  It was early in the morning by the time she stood in front of the imposing gates of the Vulcan compound.  Pressing the comm unit keypad, Amanda took in a shaky breath to steady herself.  The Vulcans probably wouldn't be impressed with an emotional appeal.

"Our gates do not open for official business until 0600 hours."

Startled by the voice in the dark, Amanda gasped as she pressed the button again and spoke.  "I'm aware of that, sir.  Please, I need to speak with the ambassador immediately."

"Do you have an appointment to speak with him at his hour?"  The disembodied voice was dispassionate and cool. 

Amanda swallowed hard as she tried to retain some control. "There has been a horrible attack against the Boston office of the Earth embassy.  I'm appealing for the assistance of Vulcan, sir." Silence followed her request.  She fidgeted as the desire to shake the barred entryway gate played in her mind.

"We are aware of the attack.  You have the authority to request assistance?"

Biting her lip hard, she glared at the key padd.  "My father was seriously injured in the attack.  I…"

"If the proper authorities contact us, we shall consider offering our assistance.  Our embassy is closed until further notice."

"No!" Amanda yelled.  "You have to help!  I know that you have the medical advances that can save my dad!"

"Are you Amanda Grayson?"

The unanticipated question surprised her as she gazed up at where she suspected the hidden monitor was capturing her image.  "Yes, I am.  How do you know me?"

"One moment."

Amanda nodded and waited for the gate to open.  After several minutes, she began to wonder if the Vulcan on the other end of the link had simply dismissed her as a fanatical nutcase trying, yet again, to get a ride home.  He didn't sound like Sasep, the security chief.  Had the Vulcan decided that it would be best to pay no heed to her urgent, emotional request?  She felt the tears well up in her eyes as she considered what would happen if she couldn't get their assistance.  They had to listen to her!  They just had to.

In the embassy compound, Sennar analytically observed the human girl on the monitor screen.  Generally he wasn't in the security office at night; however, the attack on the Earth Embassy's Boston office had meant an escalation of their defensive measures, and he wanted to personally monitor the systems during this critical time.  He raised an eyebrow as he studied the girl for a moment.  She was shivering and emotionally distraught, apparently by the strain of the attack.  Her appearance was less than pleasing in that her Terran-style clothing was rumpled, and her face was a mask of anguish.  Such an emotional creature.  Sennar's mouth twitched as an idea formed.  Perhaps he could salvage his plan for his Family after all.

The soft chime from the comm unit slowly roused Sarek from his slumber.  Swiftly, he placed a robe around him as he moved to answer the call.

"Sarek," he said, clearing his throat as he considered how raspy he sounded.

"I beg forgiveness, Sarek," Sennar smoothly intoned.  "There is a minor situation at our front gates that requires your expertise."

Staring vacantly at the unit for a split second, Sarek briefly wondered if his time sense was impaired.  He believed that it was 0323 hours.  What event could require his presence at such a time?

"Allow me to dress, and I shall be at the gate momentarily."

"Very well," Sennar stated.  Once the communication link was severed, he allowed a small sigh of satisfaction.  When Sarek discovered who was at the gate and how completely out of control she was, he had no doubt that the younger Vulcan would dismiss the idea of a bonding at once.  Esda was still acting healer for the embassy, and Sennar understood that she and Sarek had briefly conversed on several occasions.  The gray-haired Vulcan sat in calm anticipation in front of the monitor screen, watching the girl pace and sniffle. 

He couldn't ask for a better view of the first, and final, meeting between Sarek and Amanda.

Amanda gazed expectantly into the shadowy, fog-shrouded world within the Embassy gates.  Why she didn't just leave as the minutes ticked by was a question she couldn't answer.  She half-expected law enforcement to show up and haul her away as a lunatic.  The fact that there was no sign of life in the courtyard only confirmed what she feared the most… the Vulcans weren't going to help.  With a dejected sob, she sank down to the ground with her back to the gate.  Exhaustion had taken a toll on her determination.   Drawing her knees up, she allowed the tears to flow.

Sarek entered the courtyard, his cloak wrapped around him like a shield against the cool night air.  For a moment, he believed that the situation had been resolved prior to his arrival.  The gate was closed, and the entryway appeared to be clear.  As he prepared to return to his rooms, a noise that reminded him of the injured yelp of a sehlat was heard over the din of the usual nighttime sounds.  He turned back to the gateway and cocked his head as the indistinct sound repeated itself.  Upon closer inspection, he could see the outline of a person crouched down against the left far corner of the gate entrance.  Several scenarios entered his thoughts as he stood and silently observed the person.  Sennar would not have permitted him to leave his rooms if the person was a threat; however, this situation might be a test.  Even though his past action had saved his life, Sarek regretted traveling as he did from the Sigma quadrant without proper diplomatic protective measures in place.  Perhaps Skon had asked the aide to check whether or not his son had learned from his previous miscalculation.  As he considered that possibility, another indistinct sound entered the complex.  Narrowing his eyes, he couldn't discern whether the person was male or female… adult or child.  With a resigned sigh, he glanced over at the security office and strode toward the gate.  Kaiidth!  If it were a test, he would fail.  He could only fault his inquisitiveness for his action. 

The sounds became more distinguishable as he approached the person.  He stopped several meters from the gate to allow some distance to remain for safety.  If the person were a danger, he would at least have an opportunity to attempt to protect himself from any threatening move.

"Who are you, and why are you at our gates?" he inquired, his sonorous voice carrying over the sounds he now recognized as some sort of human emotional reaction.  The person gasped at his question and stood.  For a moment, the unknown person kept their back to him.  He could observe the vigorous act of rubbing their eyes with the back of their hands and a failed attempt to remove the creases from the front of their outfit.  Judging from the size and appearance of the person, he was 89.897% certain that the person was female.  That probability increased to 100% as the person turned. 

She moved out a shadow near where she had been seated.  Without preamble, she began to speak. "Ambassador Skon, I'm here to request your assistance.  There has been a terrible attack against the Boston office of the Terran Embassy, and one of those injured was my father."  She took in a deep breath.  "I believe that the more advanced medical knowledge of Vulcan can offer an antidote to the bioweapon used."

"You speak to me under a false pretense," Sarek replied.  "I am not Skon."  He was struck by the determined set of the young woman's jaw and how she didn't appear to be concerned in the least with the impropriety of requesting such assistance. 

"Oh?" Amanda reacted.  The cloaked figure remained an outlined ghost in the fog.  "Then, who are you?"

Sarek raised an eyebrow at the query.  "I request that you identify yourself first."

He watched the play of emotions on her young face.  Sarek was aware of the difficulty Vulcans often had in determining the ages of humans, but based on her grasp of language and maturity, he would estimate her age as somewhere in her late teens.  She was pale-skinned; whether from the emotional drain of events in the past day or naturally, he couldn't tell.  Her light brunette hair was not pulled up and hung in tangles to just below her shoulder blades.  It was when she faced him with the illumination shining down from the gate that a jolt of recognition shook him. 

Her bright sapphire eyes gazed expectantly at him for a moment, and then she looked down at her shoes.  A light sigh of exasperation was heard as she spoke. "You're right, you did ask me first.  My name is Amanda Grayson, and my father is John Grayson.  He used to work at the embassy here in San Francisco."

"Indeed," Sarek intoned, unable to explain his inability to say more.  He briefly considered opening the gates; however, protocol and increased security measures would be severely breached if he did.

"Yes, he was a junior diplomat," Amanda supplied as she came to the realization that the sound-alike for Skon was very likely his son, Sarek.  He remained just outside of a circle of light that would support her affirmation.  "He's in critical condition at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston."  She took in another steadying breath.  "May I ask your name?"

"Sarek," he responded, confirming what Amanda already suspected.  "May I inquire as to why you believe Vulcans would have the ability to provide medical assistance when none has been requested by the facility indicated?"

"I'm not sure why the hospital hasn't sent out requests for assistance," Amanda mournfully said.  "I'm afraid that it all comes down to a matter of pride."  It was an undisputed fact that Vulcan had far greater scientific, intellectual, and medical knowledge than humans; however, due to what Amanda believed was simple envy and distrust, only the occasional 'breakthrough' by human intellectuals was announced on the nets.  It didn't help that many humans were still scarred by memories and stories of the Eugenics War.  After the destruction and devastation wrought by technology and `innovation', a great wave of people returned to what they envisioned as a simpler time and place, rejecting anything that could be viewed as part of a violent past.  It took several generations to pass before the intrinsic dread of technology could be tempered.

"To offer assistance that is not requested is illogical," Sarek stated as he observed the change in the young woman's countenance.  She was now staring intently through the gated entryway, a look he couldn't identify on her features.

"To ignore a crisis when you have the ability to help is illogical," Amanda retorted, anger beginning to sharpen her tongue.  "The hospital hasn't asked for help because they're unaware that help is available.  Plus, your statement is illogical because I'm asking for assistance!"

"I merely point out that the proper authorities have not contacted us," Sarek said, defending his position and wondering why he needed to do so.  Perhaps it came from a protective reflex within him, since the mental assault on his psychic shields was quite astonishing.  Most humans had the ability to control, to some extent, their projection of thoughts; however, this one was unlike any he'd encountered.  A maelstrom of emotions beat against him like a sandstorm. 

"Of course they haven't contacted you!" the young woman countered, fury and anxiety mixing to form a determined front.  She moved to within centimeters of the gate.  "I've come here to ask for your assistance, and I won't leave until I have your word that you'll contact whoever can help."

"Threats are illogical," Sarek smoothly declared.  His statement, while quite reasonable, did not have the effect he'd estimated. 

She should have acknowledged that her mannerisms and words were intimidating.  However… "I'm not threatening you!" she yelled, her face screwed up into a mask of rage.  "You must understand that time is of the essence.  While we're standing here discussing the `who's' and the `why's', my father and several others are dying!  Don't you understand that?  Don't you have any compassion?"

"Compassion is a human condition." he began, but stopped when Amanda twirled around to face the street.

"Then, you're not going to help." Her voice was so soft that only his Vulcan hearing picked up her words.  "I've wasted my time, and possibly lost my chance to tell my father goodbye," she whispered.  She sank down to the curb as the enormity of her loss tore through her heart.  Just as the tears began in earnest, she heard the mechanical sound of the gate opening.

Sarek knew that he would not exit the Embassy grounds at this most crucial time.  As the gates opening mechanism ground to a stop, he observed the way Amanda lifted her arm to peer under it at him.  Something in the action caused him to raise his left eyebrow.  Did she believe that her rather piteous emotional performance was something that would affect him?  The right eyebrow joined the raised one as he realized that by opening the gate, he'd done exactly what she wanted him to do.  He remained immobile, hands clasped behind his back, just inside the gates.  At that moment, he could not determine who was behaving in a more illogical fashion. "Explain your response."

"Pardon?" Amanda croaked out, raising her head as she loudly cleared her throat.  "What do you mean by that?"  She was now looking up into the still indistinguishable features of Sarek.  That he soared over her while she sat at the curb was obvious, but she could only see his jaw line and outline of his nose in the shadows, the cloak hood nearly completely obscuring his face.

"Why do you presume that I will not assist you?"

"You said that compassion was a human condition," she replied, brushing off the front of her jacket as she stood. 

Sarek was standing like a sentinel just within the embassy compound. "That is correct," he stated as his eyes swept over her.  She continued to press the front of her jacket as if the action would remove the large creases in the material.  Her action only served to emphasize that she was certainly not male.  "However, Vulcans are not above sharing knowledge when asked," he admitted, irrationally hoping that she might eventually remove the offending garment.

"But, if you're not asked." Amanda stopped the sentence and sighed at her futile attempt to look presentable.  It would probably be easier for her to just remove the jacket and hope her shirt wasn't so wrinkled.  Gazing again into the dark hole that was where Sarek stood, she tilted her head.  "This conversation would be easier if I could clearly see you."

He stepped to the right, which was illuminated by a series of luminosity strips located above the gate, and pulled back his hood.  Now plainly visible, his gaze remained locked on her as he wondered at her action of staring back.  Most humans found the Vulcan habit of intense scrutiny unsettling and would lower their eyes.  So far, this young woman wasn't showing any indications of discomfort.

"Will you contact the medical authorities?" Amanda inquired softly, her eyes focused on the strong-featured Vulcan before her.  She had been right to assume that he would appear more like his father in real life than from the indistinct image she'd seen; however, she wasn't prepared for the presence of the person before her.  Unlike any other Vulcan she'd met, Sarek had totally mastered the ability of projecting absolute control and authority.  Even Skon hadn't intimidated her so much during their one meeting at the dinner.  Knowing that the ambassador had, on occasion, made a mistake or two, she felt certain that the same couldn't be said for his son.

"It shall be done," Sarek replied. 

The young woman exhaled with relief, and then smiled shyly at him.  Unlike before when she could hold his gaze, she found herself unable to keep from lowering her eyes as a flush of color began to burn her cheeks.  'Stop it', she thought, angry at her reaction.  `What's wrong with you?  He's married, for goodness sake!'

Sarek looked down at the brickwork by his feet that Amanda had apparently taken an interest in.  There was nothing abnormal that he could detect to hold ones attention.

"Thank you so much," Amanda finally said as she nervously ran her hand across another crease on her jacket sleeve.  "You'll contact them now?"

"Yes," he replied as he watched her bite her lip.  "Is there something more?"

`Yes, there's much more,' she mentally screamed, but instead of verbalizing her desire for answers, she shook her head.  "No," Amanda said firmly.  "No, there's nothing more.  Please accept my deepest gratitude for your assistance."

Sarek nodded once as a chime sounded from near the curb.  He stood by as Amanda retrieved a small satchel that appeared to be her only possession other than what she wore.

"Hello?" Amanda hesitantly said into the tiny communications device she dug out of the satchel.

"Amanda!  Thank God… where are you?"  The male voice was filled with concern, and Sarek silently observed the way Amanda anxiously glanced in his direction before she answered.

"I'm in San Francisco getting help for dad," she declared with confidence even as she turned her back to the gate.  Silence followed for a second before another voice sounded through the night air.  This voice was female, sharp and hard.  From his vantage point, the Vulcan observed the twitch of tense muscles tightening in the girl's back as the woman spoke.

"I can't believe you!  Your father is dying, and you leave?  Have you no sense at all?"

"Mother, please." Amanda pleaded, but the woman continued her verbal assault.

"We wake up to find you gone, with no indication of where you've disappeared to.  Your father's condition has worsened… three more people have died since you left.  You should be here, not in San Francisco!"

"I had to talk with someone I believed could help," Amanda explained as she forced her tone to remain low.  Her heart was in her throat at the news her dad's condition was deteriorating.  She knew that trying to keep the voices from carrying was useless. Sarek, with his Vulcan hearing, could easily overhear the conversation.

"So, you had to physically leave?  Why not use the comm unit here in the hospital to get help?"  Amanda could hear Matt's voice in the background, but she couldn't determine what he was saying.  "She's never had any common sense," Maura hissed in response to what her son had stated.  "Instead of being here as she should, she does like she always does… runs off to do what she wants.  Where are you at in San Francisco?  At a friend's house?"

"No," Amanda retorted loudly, furious that her mother thought she was that cold-blooded and selfish.  "I'm in front of the Vulcan Embassy!  The Vulcans have the medical knowledge to fight the bioweapon antigen used.  At least I hope they do."

"So, with nothing more than a wing and a prayer, you leave to beg the Vulcans for help again."

"It's not like that at all," Amanda replied as she took in a ragged breath.  Now wasn't the time for yet another clash between her and her mother. 

"I just don't understand the fascination with Vulcans," Maura said with a sigh.  "First your father, and now you."

"What do you mean by that?" Amanda asked, baffled by the reference to her dad.

"I would have thought you'd figured it out by now," her mother smugly said.  "Although I'm not supposed to tell you, I believe it's time for you to know the truth.  Just after we arrived in San Francisco, your father met with the Vulcan ambassador, Skon.  Your father borrowed the tuition for Brantley from Skon and agreed to repay him.  How that's supposed to be accomplished now, I don't know."

"Dad knew about the agreement?"  Something in the detached reply indicated to Sarek that it would be best to end the exchange; however, the woman's diatribe unerringly went on.

"I know that there's an agreement of some sort between your father and Skon," Maura curtly disclosed.  "I have no idea of the time table, but I'd guess that the Ambassador would want to be paid back soon."

"You both knew." Amanda dully repeated into the communicator.  She suddenly spun around to face the Embassy.  Sarek could see the distress on her young face as she stared wide-eyed at him.  "Then, what am I supposed to do?"

"What do you mean?" Maura huffed.  "There's nothing that can be done other than to repay the ambassador."

"Mother, please listen to me," Amanda whispered into the communicator, her hands shaking.  "Did dad tell you everything about the agreement?"

"He told me that he would find a way to pay back Skon.  That's all."  Maura's voice hadn't changed from the somewhat irritated tone she'd had from the beginning.  Sarek stood by as a reluctant witness to the emotional scene.

"Mother." Amanda paused as she wiped her damp eyes with her left hand.  "Mother, please tell me that dad has the credits to pay back Skon.  He has to pay him back by the time I turn eighteen.  He just has to."

"How is he supposed to do that now?" Maura moaned, her voice tinny due to the poor link.  "I know your father was worried about repaying the ambassador, and now I'm not sure what we'll do."

"Mother, I need to speak with dad. Now.  Please?"

"Your father is now in a coma," the woman said as her voice pitch went up.  "Don't you have any idea of the critical nature of the attack?  Now, you want me to worry about paying the Vulcan ambassador back?  I have too much to worry about!"

"Don't worry, mother," Amanda said, her tone unemotional and flat.  "I'll take care of it."

"Oh, you will?" Maura taunted, disbelief coloring her words.  "You can't even take care of yourself!"

"I'll take care of it," Amanda repeated apathetically, and then closed the communicator without another word.  Sarek stood directly behind her, but took one step back toward the embassy as she turned to face him.  The communicator began to chime as she spoke.

"Did you know about this?" she coolly asked.  Before he could affirmatively nod, she threw the device as hard as she could against the curb.  The top cover came off, but the chime continued until Amanda crushed the communicator with her foot, furiously grinding the mechanism with her heel until no sound emitted from its shattered innards.  Several long seconds passed as Sarek quietly waited for some form of tranquility to reassert its influence.

"To destroy the communicator was not logical," he pointed out. 

"I'm killing the messenger," Amanda retorted as her shaken control began to crumble.  Her dad couldn't possibly know about the bonding ceremony.  He wouldn't have agreed if he understood the seriousness of the matter.  He must not have understood; however, as she recalled the changes in him she'd observed… the way her dad had insisted that she not go to the Vulcan Embassy after the flitter attack, his remark about saving her life when she mentioned that she had a job at the Terran Embassy, the slamming of the door when she'd overheard that Skon wanted to talk with her… it all seemed to form one inexorable conclusion.  He did know.  He did understand.  No wonder he'd hunted frantically for the amendment to her grandfather's will.  He'd gambled her life against the repayment of the tuition… and lost.  Had she meant so little to him?  Was that why he agreed? 

Trembling, she glared up at Sarek as he dispassionately remained in place.  "Tell me something," she said, her tone unyielding.  "Do you know what will happen if my father cannot repay your father for my tuition?"

"Yes," he stoically affirmed.  He stood his ground as she approached and raised her hand in a way that he didn't understand.  Something stopped her forward momentum before she came too close, and she dropped her hand and allowed her arms to hang loosely at her side.  For a split second, Sarek observed all trace of normal human pigmentation drain from her features.

He caught her before she hit the ground in a dead faint.

A soft resonance that reminded her of gentle waves lapping against sand incrementally increased within her mind as Amanda struggled to remain in the all-encompassing white light.  Warmth like that of lying on the beach at midday surrounded her as she floated contentedly, forcing back the thoughts of what had happened just before… or was it just after… she'd reconsidered her thought of slapping Sarek.  He really hadn't deserved to be physically struck, but his unruffled comportment had infuriated her in a way that she couldn't remember ever feeling before.  She'd wanted someone to agree with her that it was time to scream and cry and panic.  Instead, Sarek had simply affirmed that he knew about the agreement.  As she blinked open her eyes to stare at the smooth textured ceiling, she acknowledged that she shouldn't be angry with him.  Vulcans loved to state matters as clearly as possible, most of
the time.  But, in stating the facts, why did they have to be so damned smug about it?

As she got her bearings, she discovered that she was in a compact examination room that was archetypal for any medical clinic she'd ever been in.  A robed Vulcan woman was seated just to her right, padd in hand, and was working on what Amanda assumed was a report.  As Amanda stirred, the woman stood, carefully observing her.

"Did I faint?" Amanda asked, curious to know if this woman had a working knowledge of Standard.  The woman, of a fairer complexion than most Vulcans, raised her right eyebrow.

"You lost consciousness due to a stimulation of the vagus nerve that slowed your heart," the woman explained, her swift, staccato rush of words apparently a universal trait of the medical profession.  "Emotional trauma can cause such an occurrence in humans.  Have you ever fainted before?"

"No, never," Amanda supplied as she sat up.  "I didn't even know
that I had a vagus nerve."  She didn't feel ill except for a slight
residual headache.  "Do you know if my father's condition has
stabilized?  How long have I been unconscious?  And do you know
where Sarek is?"

Amanda noted the way the woman blinked before she answered.  "I am not privy to your father's medical condition.  You have been unconscious for 2.32 hours.  Sarek is currently occupied with discussions between the Vulcan Science Academy and the hospital administration of Massachusetts General Hospital."

"That's wonderful!  Well, I mean about the discussion," the girl enthused as she swung her feet off the examination table.

"You have not been released from my care," the Vulcan reminded her as Amanda readjusted the cumbersome hospital gown she now wore.  Her clothes were in a neat pile on a corner chair, clean and pressed.

"But, I'm fine!" the girl insisted as she puzzled over the weight of the gown.  It appeared quite thin, but felt so much heavier against her skin than she expected.

"Allow me to verify that," the woman replied as she ran a scanner
over the girl.

"My name is Amanda, by the way," the girl said conversationally as she wondered just how much the Vulcan woman actually knew about her.  She was beginning to question just how much, or how little, she knew about her own life.

"Yes, I am aware of your name," the Vulcan woman said.  "I am Esda, Healer for the Vulcan embassy in San Francisco."

"I'm pleased to meet you, although I wish the circumstances were different," Amanda replied with a tight smile.  She couldn't explain the peculiar look that flashed in the other woman's eyes before her equanimity returned.  It was as if the Healer were examining her for more than just medical reasons.

"Indeed," the Vulcan finally said as she reached some unspoken conclusion and shut off the scanner.  "You are released from my care.  Through that door is the cleansing facility.  Your clothes are in the corner."

"Thank you.  A chance to get cleaned up would be greatly appreciated," Amanda agreed, sounding far more pleasant than she felt, as she gathered her clothes.  Even her shoes were now spotless.  "Thank you, too, for your medical assistance.  Your service has honored me."

"I come to serve," the Healer automatically stated as she watched Amanda enter the adjoining room.  Most unusual, the healer thought.  Although skeptical of the human's total grasp of Vulcan ways, Esda could find no reason to strongly object to her presence.  It was true that her shields were somewhat tested by the nearly overwhelming emotions of the girl; however, as a healer, she wasn't as affected by the onslaught as others might be due to her superior mental discipline.  That would be her only caveat in terms of an objection to the bonding.  Otherwise, she found the girl's presence strangely refreshing.  Sennar would, no doubt, be less than pleased with her evaluation.

Amanda allowed the stinging sonic waves to remove the grime of two coasts as she closed her eyes.  Evidently, she had passed out and Sarek had carried her into the Embassy rather than request medical assistance from the local community.  What luck, she grumbled to herself, that I'd be out cold when a Vulcan male. ANY male, comes to my rescue.  She winced as she tried to turn the sonics down to a lower pulse.  Although on the lowest setting, it was stronger than she'd normally use.  The cycle ended and she stepped out of the shower.  Once back into her casual clothes, she opened her satchel and shook her head in amazement.  Even it had been organized, although she didn't care for the thought of someone going through her personal effects.  With her hair brushed and a touch of make-up on, she checked her appearance in the tiny pocket mirror she possessed since there wasn't one hung in the room.  It was only her eyes that reflected her fears for what might have happened in Boston since she'd spoken with her mother.

Esda was still in the exam room when Amanda emerged and motioned for the girl to follow as they left the room. 

"Where are we going?" Amanda asked as she slung her jacket over her arm.

"The ambassador's office," Esda replied as they traversed the empty hall.  "He is waiting for you there."

"The ambassador?" the girl repeated as she nervously swallowed.  He was exactly who she most wanted to talk with, but now that the moment approached, she felt the butterflies beginning to flutter madly in her stomach.  She fortified herself for the meeting with the realization that Skon would likely know more about her father's medical condition, and certainly he could explain more about the tuition repayment agreement.

She could only hope that what she learned wouldn't totally destroy her already shaken trust in her dearly loved dad.

Amanda followed the composed Healer through the halls and fervently wished that some of the Vulcan's poise might discreetly transfer to her in some way.  Apparently, fainting and resting were not the same.  The warmer temperatures in the embassy were not helping her cause in the least, and as she focused her exhausted concentration on keeping pace with Esda, she barely noticed the passing looks of the early morning staff.  The glances ranged from simple curiosity to detached apathy.  Amanda doubted that many humans usually traversed the halls at that hour of the day, but none of the personnel would gawk at her or question her presence with the Healer.

Pausing at the office door, Esda turned to face the lethargic girl.  Raising her eyebrow at the sight of a poorly stifled yawn, the Vulcan censured her with a look. "You shall need to be alert for the meeting," the woman stated.

"I know," Amanda said while trying to sound congenial instead of petulant.  "I'm well aware that this meeting is tremendously important.  I just wish that I wasn't depending on adrenaline to get me through."

"A poor substitute for a proper night's sleep," Esda replied. 

This time, Amanda did scowl. "I'll try to remember that for future reference," she grumbled, and then looked contrite.  "I'm sorry.  You're right; however, there isn't anything I can do about it now."  Amanda tightly closed her eyes and tried to wipe any trace of weariness from her mind.  She would have to keep her disposition calm and Vulcan-like.  She needed to evenly ask questions and lean on a fortitude built over the years to protect her from her mother's indifference.  Opening her eyes, she knew that she could do it… if she could only distance herself from the thought of curling up into a chair and taking a nap.

The door opened, and Esta motioned for her to enter.

"You aren't coming in?" Amanda asked, keeping most of her trepidation at bay.

"The meeting is between you and the ambassador," the Healer said with a slight nod of her head.  "It is time."

"I thank thee for your generosity and kind escort," Amanda offered in what she feared was rather broken Vulcan.  It was apparently not her best attempt as she watched the glimmer of light appear in the Vulcan woman's eyes.

"The ambassador is fully conversant in Standard," Esda stated as she nodded her acceptance of the girl's compliment.  "I would highly recommend that you use it to your advantage." 

Another nod, and the woman was gone.  Amanda pushed against the old-fashioned door and allowed it to completely open, exuding what she hoped was an air of confidence and serenity.  If only she could shake the mental image of entering the lion's den.  She also couldn't fathom her rather self-indulgent optimism that Sarek would also be in the office.  Perhaps he had news about her father.  Yes, she thought, that was why she hoped he was there.  Her heart raced a bit as she considered other possible reasons for her wish.  No, she fiercely thought, there were no other reasons.  He was married, and as her mother would point out, it would be just like her to foolishly reveal more than a casual interest in someone who might turn out to be her brother-in-law someday.  Now, if only she could figure out why that thought was so disappointing. 

Chapter 17 – The Decision

Harry Mudd:  There's only one kind of woman.
Kirk:  Or man, for that matter.  You either believe in yourself or you don't.
(ST: TOS - Mudd's Women)


The dawning radiance of morning was reflected in the shimmering waves of gold that glinted off the bay as Amanda entered the Vulcan ambassador's office.  Her eyes widened at the spectacular view offered through the massive windows located to her left.  Unlike so much of the Embassy compound, Skon's office was an ostentatious contrast to the mundane efficiency of the other rooms.  The office suite walls were richly lined with warm mahogany woods that matched the impressive desk.  As she moved toward the desk, the ambassador rose and gracefully inclined his head.

"Amanda, I am honored that you have joined me this morning," Skon said, his deep resonant tone ringing through the office.  "Would you take first meal with me?"

"I am the one honored, sir," Amanda replied as she allowed herself a moment to shift into the more formal mode of conversation.  "Sir, please forgive my impatience, but have you heard if my father's condition has stabilized or improved?"

"The discussion of medical aid continues as we speak," the Vulcan supplied as he walked around his desk.  "The five survivors of the attack are still in critical condition; however, they live.  As soon as the matter is settled, I shall be notified of the decision reached."

"Thank you," Amanda gratefully said.  Her father was still alive!  She broke into a grin, but swiftly suppressed it as she joined the Ambassador as he crossed the office.  She wasn't going to take anything for granted.  She knew from her experiences with T'Spia that even what would be considered a simple breakfast wasn't so casual an affair.  There would be more to it than that.  The drawback was that she couldn't ask any further questions until after the meal.  To do so would be a terrible breach of etiquette.

As she sat at the low set table, the door reopened, and Skon's aide came in with a tray laden with plates of food and drink.  He said nothing as the tray was lowered to the table; however, Amanda considered the narrowed eyes and abrupt mannerisms of the older Vulcan as a reliable indicator of his disapproval.  She also noted the inflexible stare the Ambassador gave his aide as the other bowed slightly and left the room.  Something more to consider.

As Skon prepared the plates, he was pleased to note Amanda's quiet self-possession as she patiently waited for him to give her the offered repast.  They ate in comfortable silence as Amanda mentally evoked previous meals with her friend, T'Spia.  The kreyla was prepared with tiny pieces of hirat fruit in it.  The fruit didn't add much to the flavor of the bread, but did make it softer and more palatable, in Amanda's opinion.  The Vulcan fruit, like most plant life on the desert world, grew sporadically at certain times of the year.  T'Spia had told her that it was a popular item to add to foods when it was available.  Amanda glanced at the delicate decanter and cups next to it.  Strangely, the ambassador had offered her nothing to drink.

"You may serve the kasa juice," he said with a rather indifferent tone. 

Amanda started at that.  She would serve it?  Unsure what to do, she lowered her head as she frantically went through every conversation she'd heard about the serving of drinks when Vulcans were involved.  No, she thought, this wasn't right at all.  With only her eyes, she looked up to observe the way the ambassador was waiting for her response.  She took in a quick breath before she spoke.  "It would be improper for me to serve you, sir," she deferentially rebuked him.  "I cannot do so, as only your wife and bondsmate has that right."

A moment passed, and Amanda feared that there was some serving rule or regulation that she simply didn't know.  Without a word, Skon grasped the decanter with one hand and with a measured grace, poured the kasa juice into the small cups and handed her one.  She waited to see if he would say anything about her refusal, but nothing was said as they ate and drank.  Once the meal was complete, she remained seated until the ambassador stood, and then joined him as they headed across the room, not toward his desk, but toward the set of massive windows that faced the panoramic bay. 

"The view is most impressive, is it not?" Skon said as the observed silence of first meal ended.

"Very impressive, sir," Amanda acknowledged.  It could be a scene from a holopic, she thought, as the air and land traffic began to weave a pattern of controlled urgency while the sun rose majestically over the jade colored hills.

"I have only briefly conversed with my son about your meeting last evening," the ambassador said as he observed the way the human's foot nervously tapped against the hard surfaced floor.  The tapping stopped almost as soon as it began.  "I have been informed that your medical condition is not of a serious nature."

"Oh, there's no condition," Amanda clarified as she watched a lone seagull lazily float above the water.  "I simply fainted due to… a number of factors.  Thank you for helping me."

"It was necessary," Skon replied, a hint of lightness in his tone.  "To allow an unconscious human to lie in front of our embassy gates without offering assistance would be met with condemnation."

Amanda grinned as the absurd mental picture of her lying all night in front of the embassy played in her mind.  She might have been injured, if Sarek hadn't caught her before she landed.  He'd also opened the gates… for her.  Don't blush, she vehemently urged her features as she imagined his face before her, don't blush!

"You appear unusually flushed," the Ambassador said as he considered the growing pink stain of color on the girl's cheeks.  "Shall I adjust the temperature to a lower setting?"

"No, that isn't necessary.  It's nothing," she insisted as she put a hand to her face in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment.  What was wrong with her?  Why was she embarrassed?  Had there been something unexpected about the way Sarek had looked at her?  Or was she reading something into his actions that wasn't there?  That was likely the answer.  She really needed to stop interpreting Vulcan reactions as similar to that of humans.  So, he'd given her a look that she'd consider somewhat sexually provocative.  The 'once-over'… from her face… and down from there.  Not a very decent thing for a married person to do.  He probably didn't even realize he'd done it.  But, he had to realize he did.

"Did you hear me?"

"What?" Amanda gasped out as she realized the ambassador had been speaking to her.  "I'm so sorry, sir.  I'm… unusually distracted this morning."

"Yes, I've noticed," he dryly replied.  There was much depending on this young human.  Perhaps it would be best to reschedule the meeting for a later time.  "I have apparently caught you during a time humans refer to as 'not your best'?"

"That much is certain," Amanda replied with a matching dry tone.  She wanted nothing but to go back to her resident hall, crawl under the covers, and sleep the rest of the day away.  "Sir, I have so many questions that I wish to ask, but could we meet later in the day?  I'm exhausted, and am not at my best as you've pointed out."

A chime from the desk monitor interrupted their conversation as Skon crossed the office to answer.  He scanned the identity of the caller and the message in just a few seconds, and then returned to his spot by the windows. "You will be pleased to know that our assistance has been accepted," the ambassador said as he observed the beaming smile that broke across the girl's face.  "My son has informed me that the hospital has already begun to synthesize the likely antidote to the bioweapon."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Amanda cried as she fleetingly wondered if she could call the hospital.  She wanted to discover how well her dad was responding to the treatment, but it was probably too early for that.  Still. "I don't know how to repay you for saving my father, sir."

"Amanda, call me Skon," the Vulcan said as he raised an eyebrow at her enthusiastic display of emotion.  Now he understood Tolak's reference to a tornado.  "We shall postpone our meeting until this afternoon at 1800 hours." 

As she practically pranced to the door, Amanda suddenly turned and, with a concentrated look, raised her hand to form the ta'al.  "Live long and prosper, Skon.  We shall meet this afternoon."

"Long life to you," Skon replied as he matched the ta'al.  "We shall meet this afternoon to discuss… numerous significant matters."

Including repayment, Amanda soberly contemplated as she left the office. 

Sleep.  Rolling over in bed to stare at a holopic of her laughing brothers, she stuck her tongue out at them and sat up.  Sleep?  What a joke!  The resident hall was buzzing with activity since classes were to begin the next day.  Students were loudly reacquainting themselves with each other and moving back into their rooms in a way that made any prospect for rest impossible.  Even with her music plugs at their highest setting, there was no way that she could ignore the loud bangs against her wall and ceiling as an apparent stampede of undergraduates occurred.

With a dejected sigh, Amanda lay back against her pillow and tried to understand why she'd left the Vulcan embassy when she did.  The ambassador hadn't asked her to go… that had been her idea.  True, she was fairly shaken… no, tremendously traumatized might be more like it… with her parents actions.  She could have demanded answers from Skon, but for reasons she couldn't explain, she wanted only to leave.  It was telling that the Ambassador had also thought it best that she depart.  From the hours of transcription work she'd done, Amanda knew that he was not one to do something without reason.  Was she really so out of it?  Or, was there another reason for Skon to encourage her to go?

What she couldn't shake was a smoldering sense of betrayal that had been growing since she'd learned that her mother and dad knew about the bonding agreement.  Amanda wasn't sure if her mother really understood what had happened or not, but at this point, it didn't matter.  It hurt more that her dad knew.  It hurt a lot more.

She'd tried to contact the hospital, but the information clerk was unable to put her through to anyone.  Maybe that was for the best.  She couldn't think of anything to say.  It was a juvenile thing for her to have destroyed her communicator, but it just appeared to only be capable of spewing out venomous words from her mother that she just couldn't take at that point.  How could three years of private school tuition be worth the rest of her life bonded to a Vulcan?  She doubted that her dad had even met Silek.  SHE hadn't even met him, and they were supposed to become bondsmates? 

The situation grew more complicated as she thought about Sarek.  It would have made more sense to her if he were the one in need of a bondsmate.  After all, he was the one in the diplomatic spotlight that was intended to broaden as his stature and position allowed.  The media would have a field day with the knowledge that a Vulcan had bonded with a human.  Amanda sniffed as she considered her avoidance of the word 'marry'.  She just couldn't use that word in connotation with herself and anyone, especially someone she'd never met.  If, by some bizarre twist of fate, she did agree to the bonding, how was she supposed to finish college?  Would Silek come to Earth for the bonding ceremony?  He seemed to be someone who didn't travel much… would she have to move to Vulcan?  Leave Earth? 

A feeling of dread gripped her as she wondered at what, exactly, the ambassador would demand of her as repayment.  Somehow, she'd never really considered herself vulnerable.  Her tough exterior often deflected much of the inner pain and turmoil, and that suited her fine.  Now, she didn't feel that she could shrug off the possibly drastic changes that loomed in her future.  She wanted to be the one in control of her life and destiny; however, forces beyond her control seemed to be conspiring to affect her in ways she'd never imagined.  Thoughts of going back to Boston to be with her family offered little comfort.  While she longed for Matt to enfold her in a bear hug and console her, she would have had to confront her mother first and listen to her criticism.  Dan would probably think the entire situation was a colossal joke that he wished he'd come up with.  And her dad.  No, she couldn't go to Boston.

Checking the chrono, she rose and dressed in an exceptionally conservative plaid skirt with a long-sleeved solid maroon button-down blouse.  Several minutes were spent pulling her curls up into an attractive chignon.  With an exasperated glare, Amanda finally walked away from the mirror after unsuccessfully fighting with a few loose tendrils of hair near her neckline.  She could spend all day trying to look presentable, but she only had an hour before it was time to meet with the Ambassador again.  With her high heels on and her makeup fresh, Amanda left her rooms and ignored the whistles from the guys at the far end of the hall.  They always acted as if they'd never seen a female before.  With that in mind, she wickedly grinned as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt.  Yes, her attire was old-fashioned, but the blouse and skirt were both form flattering.  If he were at the meeting, she'd give that haughty Sarek something to look at… and if he checked her out again with that superior sweep of his eyes, she might not hold back on that slap, either.  He ought to act as a proper married man and not like a scoundrel. 

Smirking at the thought, she left the resident hall… and came to a dead stop.  A flitter with the diplomatic markings of the Vulcan embassy was parked directly in front of the hall.  Not surprisingly, the vehicle had attracted the attention of a fairly large number of students, parents, and even a couple of passing professors.  Trying her best to appear blasé, Amanda strolled up to the flitter as the door slid open, hopped in, and only barely overheard the questioning murmurs as the door shut and the vehicle left the curb.  She looked out the window as the crowd, and then the landscape, became a blur.

"Is it not presumptuous to believe that the flitter was for you?"

Amanda jumped at the unexpected female voice, and then squealed in delight.  "T'Spia!  What are you doing here?"

Dark eyes that betrayed a glimpse of humored light darted up to observe the smiling human.  "I completed my required instruction on Vulcan and have been reassigned to Earth as a junior diplomatic aide."

"Congratulations!" the girl heartily said even as her expression darkened.  "Were you unable to contact anyone during this training?"

An uncomfortable silence followed for a moment before the Vulcan woman responded.  "No, there was no constraint based on my training regiment."

Amanda glowered into the rearview mirror.  "I've told you in the past what I think of playing '20 questions'.  Just tell me the truth.  Why didn't you call me?  Didn't you want to?"

"I did," T'Spia softly countered.  "It was not possible due to my Family."

"Your Family?" Amanda replied in the same tone.  "What did they have to do with your inability to speak with me?"

"I was told that it would be in your best interest if I not contact you," the Vulcan said, her eyes firmly on the road ahead.  "Sasep granted my request to drive you to the meeting only after I agreed that it would be the last time I would act as chaperone.  Even this chance I took to speak with you might result in a stern reprimand."

"Why?" the girl curiously asked.

"Due to the circumstances of the assembly I'm taking you to," T'Spia said solemnly.  "Amanda… are you fully cognizant of why the ambassador has requested this meeting?"

"Are you?" Amanda countered as she felt her ire grow.  "You knew about the bonding ceremony before you left and didn't tell me!  I thought we were friends."

"If I told you, would you have believed me?"  The Vulcan could immediately detect the tiny frown that formed on Amanda's lips as she considered the situation.

"Maybe, maybe not.  I did have the right to know," Amanda insisted as she leaned forward to more easily see the woman.

"I was not in a position that would allow me to enlighten you," T'Spia maintained as her right eyebrow flicked up.  "Your blouse is unbuttoned."

"I know," Amanda confirmed as she leaned back.  "It's for research purposes only."

"Research?"

"Yes.  I'm conducting a study on eye-hand coordination."

"Do you not mean hand-eye coordination?" T'Spia inquired as she noted the grin on the young face.

"No, not at all," Amanda adamantly claimed.  She watched confusion shade the Vulcan's face as she finally supplied the punch line.  "It will depend on where a certain Vulcans' eyes are as to where my hand will be."

"Amanda," the woman said, her serious tenor removing the playful quality from their conversation.  "You must not consider this a game.  Skon is a powerful member of one of the most venerated Houses on Vulcan.  His determination is legendary.  You must understand fully what is expected of you before you agree to anything."

"I do understand," the girl bitterly replied.  "I understand that my dad borrowed my tuition to Brantley from Skon.  I understand that they agreed that if the credits couldn't be repaid that I would become the bondsmate of Skon's son, Silek.  I also…"

"Silek?" T'Spia interrupted, her eyes shrouded in bewilderment.  "Why do you believe that you would become Silek's bondsmate?  He already has a wife."

"He does?" Amanda said, her shock registering in her wide blue eyes.

"Yes," the Vulcan replied.  "Skon has two sons, Sarek and Silek.  Sarek is unbonded."

"But," the girl stammered, "But Sarek is married!  I've already checked and he has a wife named T'Rea!"

"They are no longer married," T'Spia offered as she glanced into the mirror.  "Apparently your information is outdated."

"I guess it was," Amanda murmured, unsure of how she felt about that.  Closing her eyes, she could only wonder at the poor impression she must have made on Sarek.  Crying at the gate, yelling at him, fainting.  He must think her a very poor excuse for a possible bondsmate.  Unconsciously, as she watched the embassy gate open, she buttoned up her blouse.  This was no time for being coarse.  A surge of panic raced through her as they entered the compound.  No, this was a time for quick thought and cunning.

She could only hope that she was up to the task.

"We're early, aren't we?" Amanda asked, deliberately stating the obvious.  T'Spia must have additional recommendations other than just a word of caution.

"Yes," the Vulcan admitted as the flitter came to a halt in front of the Main Embassy building.  "There are 20.38 minutes until your presence is required in the ambassador's office."

"T'Spia," the girl began, slowly dragging the name out as she carefully considered what to ask.  "What can you tell me about Sarek without getting into trouble?"

"Amanda, there is still an opportunity for you to decline."

"I didn't say I was going to bond with him, or anything else with him!" Amanda heatedly retorted.  "I asked what you know about him."

The Vulcan turned off the vehicle, and sat back into the comfortable drivers seat.  "He is the eldest son of T'Lara and Skon, grandson of Solkar.  His House is that of Surak, one of our most respected leaders."

"I know who Surak is," Amanda reminded her friend.

"Of course," T'Spia concurred.  "Were you aware that Sarek was of his House?"

Pursing her lips together, Amanda slumped against the back of the seat.  "Please continue."

"He has been assigned to several high profile diplomatic posts and has developed a reputation for conflict resolution and defending the interests of those incapable of speaking for themselves.  Sarek's last post prior to his arrival on Earth was in the Sigma quadrant as a senior diplomat."

"The planetary system that was destroyed?" Amanda said as she furrowed her brow.

"He left just days before the system was enveloped in hostilities.  He was exonerated of any blame since the warring parties were thought to be at peace and had given no indication of escalating aggression."

"That must have been tough on him," the girl said sympathetically.

"It was a regrettable occurrence," T'Spia replied, not certain of Amanda's comment.

"It was more than regrettable," the human insisted, "It was horrible.  I would have to believe that after living on a planet for some time, leaving, and then discovering that the planet and those you knew there were dead… well, it would have an effect on anyone."

"You must remember that you speak of a Vulcan," the woman answered as she turned to look at the girl.  "You have attached an emotional rejoinder to the unfortunate event."

"Yes, I've attached emotions to it," Amanda said with a sigh.  "I'm human, in case you've forgotten."

"No, I have not," T'Spia softly said as she turned back to look out the windshield.  "That is part of the reason I am here."

"What do you mean?" the girl queried as she felt an ominous shift occur in the conversation.

Staring out the window, the Vulcan remained silent for a moment.  With a reluctant glance over her shoulder, she spoke.  "My friend, I must tell you this.  While I cannot speak of it directly, I shall give you two words that you must understand if you agree to the bonding."

"Two words?  What are they?"

The tense, formal approach that was being exhibited by T'Spia surprised Amanda.  She had thought that they'd gotten past that awkward stage long ago.

"I… must not speak of it to off-worlders."

Amanda felt a pang of shock at her friend's words.  From the beginning, T'Spia had never spoken to her as an alien. 

"But, you must," the girl boldly asserted.  "You must tell me if I am to understand."  She couldn't comprehend the strange demeanor that had overtaken the Vulcan.  Was it going to take threats to get her to respond?

"That is true," T'Spia admitted as she looked into the back of the vehicle.  "The two words are… pon farr.  If you are asked to bond before you completely understand what those two words mean, you must refuse."

"What does pon farr mean?" Amanda asked, turning the syllables around in her mind as she wondered about the words she'd never heard before.

"As I have said," the Vulcan said with an air of mystery.  "If you do not understand before an agreement is reached, you must refuse.  Do not inquire first for a definition before the words are introduced.  My position would be compromised if it were learned I told you of this."

"T'Spia, why are you trying to scare me?" Amanda demanded, a flare of anger lighting her tone.

"I am not attempting to unduly alarm you," the woman stated.  "Just remember my instructions… please."

Now thoroughly convinced that she should beg T'Spia to drive her back to campus, or perhaps to the nearest shuttle station for the next available flight, Amanda bit her lip in frustration.  Nothing could have shaken her more than a Vulcan pleading with her to listen. Movement outside the vehicle indicated that it was time to get out before someone questioned their dawdling exit from the flitter.  As the door opened, Amanda gazed curiously at her friend.

"If you were me, what would you do in this situation?"

"That is an irrational question," the Vulcan replied as her right eyebrow shot up.  "How could I be you?"

"Oh, that's good to hear," Amanda said with a relieved look.  "I was just making sure that you would answer my illogic with logic.  I really needed that."  Without further ado, the girl slipped out of the flitter and ascended the stairs.

Just as she entered the reception area located near the ambassador's office, Amanda heard the low voices of several Vulcans as the door to the office closed.  She briefly wondered if she was late, or if Skon was late in meeting with another group.  Or. A deflated realization struck as she considered the Ambassador's earlier action of letting her go to `prepare' herself for the meeting.  If only it had been that easy.  Maybe Vulcans could put out of their minds the troubling thoughts that disallowed rest.  Maybe Skon had far more faith in her abilities than he should have.  A knock on the door resulted in it opening immediately to a space transformed into a semicircle of chairs around the mahogany desk.  Skon rose and inclined his head to indicate a chair while those seated impassively gazed upon her tremulous form.  With an unsteady breath, she sat down.

"It is pleasing that you have joined us, Amanda," the ambassador said as a way of introduction.  "Allow me to introduce those present.  To your right is Sennar, my senior aide; and T'Von, a member of our House.  To your left is Esda, healer for our embassy; and Salrik, our cultural attaché.  T'Lara, my wife, shall join our dialogue from Vulcan on the communications monitor."

"Our dialogue?" Amanda repeated as she cut her eyes to the right and left.

"There is much to discuss and consider," the ambassador intoned as his dark eyes caught and held the lighter ones of the girl.  "We shall start with your knowledge of the agreement.  How did you learn of the bonding ceremony?"

She felt the eyes of all those in the room on her, and wondered if she could answer without breaking down into a whimpering puddle of tears.  Forcing her shoulder blades back, Amanda decided to take the only path available.  She'd relay the truth as she knew it and let the Vulcans decide what to do with the information. "I worked at the Terran Embassy as a translator until my job was eliminated due to the introduction of the Universal Translator.  During that time, I worked on transcribing messages that were classified in nature."  She observed the narrowing of Skon's eyes and unerringly went on.  "It was only this past spring that I found out about the bonding ceremony."

"The transcriptions were illegally obtained," Sennar alleged as he also noted the displeased look on the ambassador's face.

"I was told that I had a job to do, and that was to translate what I was given," the girl insisted. 

"You did only as you were told to do," Skon reasoned as Amanda nodded her approval of his declaration.

"However, conjecture would lead you to one conclusion," Sennar replied as he tilted his head to gaze at the human.  "Your actions were tantamount to espionage."

"No, that's not true!" Amanda firmly maintained.  "I didn't spy.  My duty was to translate the messages to the best of my ability.  It wasn't something that I was proud of, but I needed the credits."  Frowning, she chewed on her bottom lip before continuing.  "I received a full academic scholarship to The University of California - Berkeley, but I had to work to pay for my room and board."

"Why did you not ask your family to assist you?" T'Von, a tall, painfully thin woman with a shock of black hair, asked.

"They would have helped financially if they could.  My father lost his inheritance when I was 13 years old, and his income is only enough to cover his and my mother's expenses.  I didn't want to be a burden."

"You are a 17-year-old child," Sennar said, condescension ringing in his tone.  "Do you believe you are capable of understanding Vulcan ways?"

"At 18, I shall be legally considered an adult human.   I can only do my best according to my abilities," Amanda answered.  "No, I'm not telepathic, nor do I possess a vast knowledge of Vulcan or Vulcans.  I'll admit to ignorance, but not stupidity."  With a shy grin, she nervously shifted in her seat.  "Honestly, I've never even been off-planet.  I only want to remove the obligation that's been placed upon my father."

"You have no other reason?" Esda inquired as she faced the human.  Amanda considered the healer's question, and closed her eyes.  Other reason?  A sweeping sense of dismay exerted itself as she considered what Sarek must think of the proceedings.  Why wasn't he here?

"No, I suppose I don't," Amanda lamented as she realized she was blushing again.  With a concerted effort, she calmly observed the equanimity of the Ambassador.  "May I ask why Sarek isn't here?  Shouldn't he be involved in this?"

"The decision reached here will be binding upon him," Skon divulged as he considered the increasing unease he could visibly see in the girl.  "You can be assured that he knows his responsibility."

"Who speaks for the child?" a disembodied feminine voice asked. 

Skon folded his hands as he replied. "We have the recorded words of her father, my wife," the ambassador stated in the direction of the computer monitor.  He did not wish to add that he had contacted Amanda's mother only an hour earlier.  It had been a most unpleasant discourse that ended with the shrill woman's statement that she couldn't be bothered with her daughter at this time.  The apathetic statement stunned him tremendously, and resonated through Skon's mind as he waited for his wife to speak.

"Play them so that all may be aware of the agreement," T'Lara ordered.  Amanda was surprised by the commanding manner of the woman, but she was also curious to hear the recordings.  As they silently listened to the conversations, she felt a dull pain position itself in her abdomen.  It was obvious, from the swaggering confidence in his voice, that her dad anticipated finding the amendment and repaying Skon without her finding out about the agreement.  Her eyes blinked in shock at the revelation of Sarek's age.  Was that possible?  She did a quick calculation, and estimated that he would actually be closer in age to that of a 30 year old.  He didn't even look that old.  As the last recording ended, Amanda felt some relief that the stomach ache had receded, but it was likely caused by a reluctant acceptance of the inevitable.  Skon expected repayment, and her dad didn't have the amendment.  There appeared to be only one option.

"Will I be allowed to finish college… if I agree to the bonding?" Amanda haltingly asked the ambassador.

"Of course," he congenially said as he noticed a change in the girl's demeanor.  She had reached a decision.  Of that he was certain.

"I will need to speak with your son about this," Amanda resolutely said.

"You shall see him at the ceremony," Skon said, confused by her request.

"No," she argued.  "I have to talk with him.  I…"

"Kroykah!"  The Vulcan word rang through the room.  Amanda jumped at the fierce tone even though it came from light years away.  "Child, you are in no position to make requests.  The arrangement has been agreed upon between those proficient to make such decisions."

"I consider myself competent," Amanda sternly responded.  Skon had raised an eyebrow at her display of anger, but said nothing as his wife spoke.

"That is your contention," T'Lara coolly said.  "However, I believe you are quite infantile in your grasp of Vulcan ways.  There have been questions asked about the fidelity of a Human/Vulcan couple.  Do you fully understand your responsibilities as a wife and bondsmate?"

Amanda knew that this was what T'Spia was concerned about.  "No," the girl answered as she spoke loud enough for her voice to carry to the monitor.  "I would need to be taught those responsibilities."

"Some things cannot be taught," the woman uttered with conviction.  "Your lack of knowledge could lead to your death."

"Death?" Amanda said, stunned by the use of the word. 

"My wife, you overemphasize the improbable," Skon tersely said as he wondered if Amanda would bolt from the room.  She was showing definite indications of a desire to leave.

"I need to know why you believe my life would be at risk," the girl sombrely asked as she struggled with her thoughts.  Obviously, the Vulcans understood T'Lara's assertion.  She wasn't xenophobic by nature, but she'd never felt so alone and human as she did at that moment.

"There is still time," Esda said as she sensed the fear that encircled the girls thoughts.

"She must be informed of her duties before the Time," T'Lara firmly claimed.  "She is a mere child, and is not being represented by those who should be acting on her behalf.  I do not articulate this only to dispute her physical strength, but also her resolve.  We are no longer speaking of our confidentiality as a matter between Vulcans only.  Once the presentation of Sarek and Amanda as a bonded couple occurs, there can be no suggestion of weakness in the marriage.  What if she cannot keep the delicate matter of the Time undisclosed?  If such a thing happens, then this experiment in cooperation has failed and all that we expect to remain silence shall be revealed."

"I will not marry as an experiment!  And what does time have to do with this?" Amanda shouted, taking the Vulcans in the office off guard.  Esda rose as the girl spun out of her chair to stand in front of the desk.

"Sit down," Skon compellingly ordered as he waited for the furious swirl of emotions to ebb.  Esda slowly sank into her chair as she observed the defiant manner in which the girl remained standing. 

"I beg forgiveness, Ambassador," Esda said, her tone low and respectful.  "May I speak with Amanda alone?  Perhaps a clarification of what is expected would be beneficial.  How can she make an informed choice if all is not revealed?"

"You may speak with her in the adjoining conference room," Skon stated as he realized just how close the girl was to walking out the door.  Her eyes had twice darted to the exit as he answered the healer's question.

"I want nothing held back, either," Amanda brusquely said as she glared at the Ambassador.  She didn't care if she was being rude.  There was no excuse for all the secrecy and polite sidestepping.

"Very well," Esda replied as she gracefully rose and motioned for the girl to follow her.  "We shall rejoin you momentarily."

Skon waited until they left before turning toward the others present.  "What is your impression, Salrik?  You have been inordinately silent."

"Quite an emotional child, Mr. Ambassador," the slightly stocky Vulcan replied in a deep bass voice.  "I must question her control."

"Indeed," Sennar agreed as he noted the way Skon had turned to face the conference room door.  "Her behavior this morning was disgraceful."

"She feared for her father's life," the ambassador said as his.  "I would not expect her to have Vulcan control."

"What benefit can she be to the Family?" T'Von queried as her eyes also turned toward the door.  "Will she be granted the rights and privileges customary for a member of our House?"

"I believe that she should be offered every consideration that is given to members of our House," Skon replied as he glanced down at the monitor.  As he expected, his wife was the next to address the group.

"She does not have the educational, or even the intrinsic, knowledge necessary to offer anything.  I question her maturity."

"There is no doubt that her age is problematic," the ambassador noted as he sensed the concurrence of the group with T'Lara's words.  "Humans have an enormous propensity for growth.  Her educational needs shall be met, and."

The door to the conference room flew open and a very upset human emerged and blindly rushed toward the office exit, the healer close behind.

"Amanda!" Skon loudly called out.  "Do not leave in such a manner.  To do so is…" the door closed on his last word, "…illogical."

After a few minutes had passed, Esda re-entered the office with a penitent look on her features.  "Ambassador," she softly said as she felt the others waiting for her explanation.  "I spoke with Amanda and revealed details of pon farr with the promise that she would never speak of it to anyone.  She agreed, but was most… distraught."

"Obviously," Skon replied darkly.  "Has she left the embassy?"

"She has asked to return to her apartment," the healer confirmed.  "Shall I have T'Spia prepare the flitter?  They are friends, and it might be advantageous for T'Spia to talk with her."

The ambassador sat back as he considered the disastrous events that had unfolded.  With a dismissive wave of his hand, the others in the room quietly departed even as he noted that the connection between Vulcan had also ended.  T'Lara was probably already contacting the alternate bondsmate prospect.  As his mind raced to find a way to salvage his plan, he considered the way Amanda had asked if Sarek would be present at the meeting.  She had seemed... disappointed?  Yes, that was the term. "No," Skon replied as he watched the startled expression pass over the healer's face.  "Another shall return her to the campus."

Pacing frantically in front of the main embassy building, Amanda found that she kept replaying Esda's words… those shocking words that she couldn't quite believe.  Was it true?  She'd been sworn to secrecy, and yet who would she tell of such… insanity?  She simply found it impossible to believe that Vulcans were capable of turning into lustful, raging creatures with logic torn asunder.  That was the last thing she'd expected Esda to tell her.  Amanda had always tried to see the likenesses between Humans and Vulcans.  But this… this madness was like nothing she could imagine. 

As the flitter pulled up to the curb, Amanda got in, still shaking from the revelations.  Just as she closed the door, she turned a fearful eye toward T'Spia, but the woman wasn't there.  Instead.

She threw herself at the door, opened it, and kicked off her high heels even as the driver's side door opened.  Grabbing her shoes, she took off toward the opened gate of the embassy as Sarek stood by the flitter, surprise registering on his usually staid features.

"Stop!" he ordered, but Amanda was already at the gate and disappeared around the corner.  The dusky sky indicated the swift approach of evening, and Sarek glanced up toward the line of windows from the Ambassador's office, and then back toward the gate.  Logically, he should allow her time to compose herself.  Logically. 

The siren of an emergency vehicle passed the embassy, and Sarek realized that the gate was beginning its measured return to a locked position and wouldn't open again until morning.  Sprinting forward, he was able to slip between the opening just seconds before the gate clanged shut behind him.  He searched in the direction Amanda had taken, but she was nowhere in sight.  With another glance at the embassy compound, he drew on his memorized knowledge of the city and streets.  She would be heading back to the University.  Perhaps he should have requested taking the flitter to track her, but she had been so panicked when she realized that it was he that would deliver her back to campus.  Gazing again in the direction she'd headed in, Sarek estimated that he should be able to catch up with her within 10.35 minutes if he had correctly calculated her stride versus his.  Now, if only he could be certain that Amanda was taking the same streets.  His impulsiveness shocked him, and he faltered as he briefly considered not following her.  If she was so flustered by his presence, than it might be more considerate to avoid her until she could collect herself.  Still, while he couldn't name the conviction, there was something that indicated to him that if he didn't speak with her immediately, he never would.

Sarek began to walk purposefully onward, his undertaking clear as he entered, for the first time unaccompanied, the dynamic Terran world that was the city of San Francisco. 

Chapter 18 – The Tour

Bailey - Raising my voice back there doesn't mean I was scared and couldn't do my job. It means I have a human thing called an adrenaline gland.
Spock - It sounds most inconvenient.  Have you considered having it removed?
(ST-TOS  The Corbomite Maneuver)


A misty haze shrouded the city streets as Sarek walked along the illuminated sidewalk.  He had been silently calculating the probable path that Amanda had taken back to the University, but thus far, he had been unsuccessful in catching even a glimpse of her.  Soran had been correct in stating that the Terran streets were not logically laid out in a pattern that one could easily navigate.  He was still on the embassy road that was close to the bay.  Sarek studied with growing consternation the winding tendrils of side streets that should have slowed a human, but it was possible that he'd underestimated Amanda's stamina, or perhaps, her terror.  It would seem to be implausible that her opinion of him had changed so dramatically from one day to the next.  His father's belief that he should take her back to campus had been a surprise, but he'd thought it would be an opportunity for them to discuss the upcoming ceremony.  A sense of confusion about her was growing within him.  She was far too emotional and judgmental, especially in her estimation of his actions.  That led to a puzzling question he couldn't answer.  What of his actions?  Why had he decided to follow her?  There was little doubt that she knew her way around San Francisco better than he.  Coming to a dead stop, Sarek's eyes landed on the well-lit sign that indicated a shuttle station.  Logically, she should try to take the most efficient transportation available.  With that in mind, he made his way to the station entrance and past the streaming newsvids that were still proclaiming the disaster at the Boston Embassy as the latest news.  Grimly, he could take some solace in the fact that no other disasters had taken the place of the one that was foremost on his mind.  He would need to make haste to return Amanda to her apartment and then return to the embassy prior to any further disturbances, if only he could find her.

There were only a few humans milling about the terminal as Sarek entered.  One of the courtesies given to the Embassy staff had been free access to the shuttles by scanning their official ID's into the ticket-tracking device.  To Sarek's knowledge, very few Vulcans had taken advantage of the service.  As he allowed his eyes to surf over the multitude of shuttle routes, his thoughts turned to why Amanda had fled in such a manner.  He'd never seen anyone so frightened, human or otherwise.  Perhaps the answer would be less than satisfactory, but he needed to know what had happened.  The meeting was unusual enough in that Amanda was present instead of her parents.  That was also something he did not understand.  Why was there no family representative there for her?  Obviously, her father was in no condition to be present, but there must have been someone of her House who could have acted on her behalf.  Taking in a deep breath, he recalled that humans did not have Houses.  Was that why she fled?  There were simply too many unknowns for him to reach a logical conclusion.  Only one option presented itself… he needed to speak with her directly.

The shuttle schedule indicated that the next departure to the city of Berkeley would be in two minutes.  With ticket confirmation in hand, Sarek raced to the platform just as the doors began to shut.  Fortunately, the entryway had a safety guard which he activated as he barely squeezed between the sliding doors.  Groans of displeasure from the annoyed passengers met his action as the doors slowly opened and a dispassionate voice reminded passengers not to enter the shuttle once the doors began to close.  With a commanding glance, the grumbling ended as Sarek swept those on the shuttle with an unruffled stare.  So far, he had not seen Amanda, and he considered the very real probability that she wasn't there.  Then, in a corner furthest from the entrance, he noticed the brunette curls of a young woman.  Instantly, he moved forward as the shuttle began to leave the station.  There would be no way to leave the vessel until the next station stop; therefore, she would have to explain her departure from the embassy.

The seats were arranged so that two people could sit facing each other in the four-person compartment.  Amanda had found one of the few remaining empty seats, and was looking out the window as he approached.  His reflection off the window caught her eye, and as she turned, another person tapped Sarek on the arm.

"Excuse me," a silver-haired elderly woman with several large shopping totes said as she slipped into the seat next to Amanda.  Before someone could take the seat across from her, Sarek sat and faced the frosty-eyed gaze of the person he'd been following.  Without preamble, she spoke, but not in Standard.

"Ra aitlun du?" she hoarsely asked as Sarek wondered the same thing.  What did he want?

"Stariben.  Po trasha du?" he replied.  It was a request, more like an order, to tell him why she'd left, and as such he wasn't terribly surprised by the narrowing of her eyes.

"Trasha sa'awek," Amanda hissed at him.  Before he could tell her that it was his intention to leave her alone, the elderly woman loudly cleared her throat.

"It's very sweet of you, dear," the woman said to Amanda, who sat back as she ruminated on the woman's remark.

"Sweet?  In what way, madam?" Amanda asked as she noted the way Sarek took off his hooded cloak and placed in the seat next to him, effectively preventing anyone from sitting to join them.

"That you're giving this nice young alien gentleman a tour of the city," the woman replied as if the answer were obvious.  "You are a tour guide, aren't you?"

"Oh."  She started to say that she wasn't giving anyone a tour, and that she was actually being stalked by the nice young alien gentleman, but she didn't want to alarm the woman.

"Tour?" Sarek said in what had to be the most heavily accented Vulcan Amanda had ever heard.  Her eyes nearly popped as she imperceptibly shook her head at him.

"Yes, dear, a tour," the woman said, her voice loudly emphasizing the words.  Amanda was certain that she was going to die laughing as she saw Sarek's slight flinch at the woman's deafening tone.

"You'll have to excuse him," Amanda said with an understanding shrug.  "He's still learning Standard."

"Ah, I see!" the woman said, sympathetically looking at the staid Vulcan.  "I thought Vulcan's were a little brighter than that.  Don't most of them speak Standard?"

Amanda nearly drew blood as she bit her lip.  "Yes, most do," she sadly lamented after regaining some control.  She was extremely grateful that Sarek wasn't in her line of sight as she pictured his eyebrow hitting his hairline.  "I've apparently found the one dull one in the lot," she added with a smile.  "He doesn't seem to understand the way things are very well."

The elderly woman offered her a knowing shake of the head as she stood.  "This is my station, dear.  I do hope that you can help the poor fellow."  The woman leaned over in a conspiratorial way as her smile widened.  "Just to let you know, dear, he seems quite taken with you."  She winked at the girl as she left, shopping totes hitting the aisle seats as she walked. 

Amanda's expression changed to confusion.  Taken with her?  A set of human and Vulcan eyes followed the woman as she left.  Obviously, age had taken a toll on her insight.  There could be no other explanation for her spontaneous appraisal of their non-existent relationship.

"What connotation was implied when the woman said 'taken with you'?" Sarek asked in perfect Standard, his face a study of calm as he observed the shift in Amanda's expression from neutrally pleasant to stern.

"It means nothing," she softly declared as she stood.  "You shouldn't have followed me.  I wanted to be left alone."

"You consider me dull," Sarek said in a dry tone. 

Amanda shrugged in the nonchalant manner of someone not so convinced by her own words.  "I said that you were not intelligent due to your apparent lack of understanding of the way things are."

"And, how are they?"

"Not good," she vehemently replied as she stared past him to watch several passengers disembark.

"What happened at the meeting?" he asked as Amanda turned her attention to his long legs, which were blocking her exit from the compartment.

"If you had been there, you'd know," she curtly replied.  "Move, or I'll step over you."

"I need to speak with you," Sarek insisted as he briefly wondered if Amanda would climb over his legs to escape from him.  It was insufferable that they could not conduct a civilized conversation.

"There's nothing to discuss," she said as she glared at him.  "I need to get back to my apartment and prepare for tomorrow.  My classes begin early in the morning."

"There are four more scheduled stops before we reach the station closest to campus.  I believe that there is a great deal for us to discuss, and a limited time to do so," he affirmed as he nodded toward the vacant seat.  "Sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Amanda cried, her voice carrying in the compact space.

"Is there a problem here?"

Sarek looked up… and up… into the scowling face of a shuttle security officer. "No," the Vulcan replied as he stood.  He still had to incline his head as the human glanced over his shoulder.

"I'm talking to the young lady," the officer stiffly clarified as he considered the girl's expression.  "If he's harassing you, let me know and I can take him in."

"No, there's no need for that," Amanda quickly said as she sat down. 

The officer studied her for a moment, and then glared at Sarek. "If I even get an inkling of a problem, don't think that claiming 'diplomatic immunity' will prevent me from acting," the officer stated as he frowned at the ID badge on Sarek's cloak.  "You diplomats are the worse ones of all, I swear," the man grumbled as he walked away. 

Amanda sank back into her seat as she loudly exhaled. "Yes," she said sardonically, "you diplomats are the worst."

"In what respect?" Sarek innocently asked. 

Amanda shook her head as she stared back out the window.  It was easier to speak when she wasn't looking at him.  It was easier to remain angry, which is what she wanted to do. "You're all so interested in appearances," she said in a low voice.  She'd noticed that the next compartment was empty, but there were others on the shuttle that might overhear them.  "As long as something looks good, then it must be right."

"That is not true," he began, but noticed the way Amanda was avoiding his gaze.  It was impolite, but now wasn't the most opportune time to point out her etiquette gaffe.

"Sure, it's true," she insisted as she continued to look away.  "It's just like the image of Vulcans that has been presented to Earth.  It's really nothing more than a nice, pretty, sanitized version of Vulcans that has been shown.  Nothing more than the surface."

"Amanda, what has upset you so?" he asked, as a dread sense of awareness danced just on the periphery of his thoughts.

"I thought I knew so much," she said as Sarek noticed a tear tracing a path down her face in the reflection from the glass.  "I'm so damned naïve!"

"I am aware that you attended the course offered to a select few humans," he noted with satisfaction.  "You have been told more about Vulcans than most."

An aggrieved look settled on her as she glared at the reflection.  "No, Sarek.  I was told what was suitable for human consumption.  I thought I knew quite a bit about Vulcans, but the truth.  Well, the truth is that I now know more than any human, and the knowledge is."  She tried to look at him, but the noble intent failed.  "I just can't," she whispered.

"You can't what?" he asked, although he suspected what was happening.  Amanda had been told about the Time, he was certain of it.

"Call me a coward," she said with a voice so low he had to lean toward her.  "I'm afraid of Vulcans now."

"What have you been told?" Sarek inquired. 

Amanda glanced in his direction due to the almost… was it gentle?... tone?  Stop reading what you want to see into everything, she mentally chastised herself as she stubbornly refused to face him. "Enough to realize how truly ignorant I am," she sighed.

"It is not ignorant to acknowledge that knowledge exposes the disturbing insight of how much one does not know," he offered, but Amanda only scowled.

"Spoken like a true Vulcan," she mumbled against the glass as the shuttle slowed.

"Yes," Sarek said, frustration mounting as he tilted his head to consider her.  "Would it not be more conducive to our conversation if you would speak in my general direction rather than to address the window?"

She slowly exhaled as she turned toward him.  "You're right.  I apologize for being so rude."

"Is discourtesy characteristic for you?" he asked. 

If a human had asked such a question, Amanda would have been greatly insulted.  She knew Sarek was just being curious, she hoped. "No, I don't believe so," she said, and then inclined her head toward the aisle way.  The abrupt manner in which the two people across from them turned away indicated that they had been eavesdropping.

"We cannot openly speak here," Sarek granted as he shifted into Vulcan.

"No," Amanda agreed as she noted with satisfaction the grimaces of the two passengers now that they couldn't understand what was being said.  "I'd say that we're safe if we converse in Vulcan."

"Indeed." Sarek said as he reflected on her language skills.  "Your proficiency is quite good."

"For a human?" she added with a humored shrug.  "That is not what my friend, T'Spia, believes."

"Few humans attempt the language at all," he added as he observed the way she removed some hairpins.  "We should be at the Berkeley station in 4.21 minutes."

"Are you sure?" she teased, and then closed her eyes.  Stop it, she ordered, but she couldn't stem the rush of blood to her face.  Why, of all times, did it have to happen now?

"Is something amiss?" Sarek asked as Amanda abruptly turned back to the window.

"No," she said, forcing herself around to face him.  "I just seem… easily embarrassed lately."  The last part had to be said in Standard, as she realized she didn't know if there was a Vulcan word for 'embarrass'.

"What is the cause?" he asked pragmatically.

"Unknown," Amanda said, even as she considered telling him the startling truth.  Was it… could it be that…? No.  No. "Unbelievable," she whispered as she watched Sarek's left eyebrow ascend.  "This just gets more complicated by the second."

"What is more complicated?" Sarek inquired as he quickly analyzed her remark.

"My life," Amanda answered as she tested her uneasy conclusion of why she became so flustered around Sarek.  Staring at him for a moment, she again felt her cheeks beginning to burn.  "It just isn't possible," she mumbled as the shuttle slowed.

"I've asked several questions with no logical answer presented," he reminded her as she shook her head in disbelief.

"This just isn't happening, and I refuse to believe it," she heatedly said as she stood.

"Amanda, what is wrong?  You have been acting most illogically."

"Please let me pass," she pleaded in Standard.  The security officer, only a few steps away as he made his rounds, turned his suspicious gaze onto the young woman as she slid past the Vulcan diplomat and scurried toward the exit. 

As the Vulcan stood, the officer held up his hand. "Slow down there a minute," the officer said.  "I just want you to know that I have an excellent memory, so if anything happens to that young woman, well, I'll remember you."

"Very well," Sarek dismissively replied as he barely made it to the door as it closed.  More grumbled followed from the passengers as the door automatically opened and issued its warning.  Once on the platform, the Vulcan strode toward the still human.  He'd fully expected that she would be racing away from him.

Amanda tightly closed her eyes as she brought up images of past boyfriends.  Rheb?  No.  Ebbe?  Nothing.  Jenner?  Nada.

"May I speak with you?" a sonorous voice asked.

While she gritted her teeth, she mentally evoked the name of the person directly behind her… and blushed furiously.  No, this wasn't good at all.  This was dreadful.  How could this have happened!

She was cursed, after all.

Sarek silently waited for Amanda to turn away from the wall.  For reasons she had not yet explained, they had disembarked from the shuttle prior to reaching the Berkeley station.  Was she so distressed by the prospect of talking with him that she wanted nothing more than to get away?  Was he so unpleasant?

"Amanda," he quietly said as he observed the way she wrapped her arms around her midsection.  "Since my presence has so disturbed you, I shall take my leave of you once you have been safely escorted to your campus housing.  It is not my intention to distress you."

"It's not you at all, really," Amanda sighed.  "I'm not sure why… or where… I'm running to.  I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed," she carefully responded as she got her bearings in the station.  "Would you rather wait for the next shuttle?  We're several kilometers from Cal."

"Cal?  Is that the commonly used abbreviation for the university you attend?" Sarek asked as he took in the shuttle station and its occupants in an analytical manner.  There didn't appear to be any visible threats or hidden dangers present.

"Yes, it's what the students call the university," Amanda blithely said as she checked the timetable posted.  "If we wait, it will be nearly an hour before the next shuttle arrives.  The weekend schedule hasn't changed to accommodate for the influx of students yet."

Sarek cast his dark eyes toward the station exit.  "I would estimate the distance from our current location to the campus of 3.108 kilometers based on available data.  We could traverse that expanse prior to the arrival of the next shuttle."

"That's true," Amanda cautiously answered.  "I believe I know the streets around here well enough that we wouldn't get lost."

Nodding at her assessment, Sarek strode toward the exit.  As the door slid open, he paused as he realized Amanda hadn't moved. 

"Is there something else?" he asked as she began to walk toward him, a perplexed look in her eyes.

"Oh, no," she said with a humored shake of her head.  "I didn't realize we'd come to a conclusion."

"I prefer not to wait for the shuttle," Sarek offered as an explanation as he exited the station. 

Amanda glared at his back as he swept out of the building.  "Really?" she sarcastically murmured.  "I'd have never guessed.  Sarek?"

"Yes," he said as he slowed to a stop. 

For someone who had been so quick to disappear earlier, Amanda's pace appeared most leisurely as she caught up with him. "Shouldn't you contact the embassy to let someone know where you are?"

While his eyebrow rose slightly at her question, it was the unexpected gleam in his eyes that made her blush again. "I am old enough to be out after dark, Amanda," he said with a slightly patronizing air.

"Even on Earth?" she lightly said as they left the station and began to walk toward campus.

"Even on Earth," Sarek intoned as Amanda lifted her chin in the direction they were to go.  Several minutes passed before he glanced over at her. "May I ask a question about our initial meeting?" he requested as they passed several shuttered stores, their antiquated storefronts an imitation of a much different era.

"If you'd like," Amanda said as she lengthened her stride.  Sarek was still ahead of her.

"Who was the young man with whom you initially spoke to on your communicator?"

"That was my brother, Matty… Matthew is his real first name," she replied as her expression softened at the thought of him.  "He's going to get married once my father recovers.  The wedding was to take just after my birthday.  I'm one of the bridesmaids."

"What is a bridesmaid?" Sarek asked.

"A bridesmaid is an attendant to the bride.  I'm." she paused as she reflect on her explanation.  "I'm not really sure what the original purpose of a bridesmaid is."

"An attendant.  I understand," he said.  "And what of your conversation with your mother?"

"What of it?" Amanda said, her voice becoming frosty.

"Forgive my inquisitiveness; however, I could not help but overhear your discussion."

"If that's what you want to call it," she coolly retorted.  They stepped onto a pedwalk that was unoccupied and would take them past several more shopping areas. 

"You did not know of the bonding agreement prior to speaking with your mother?" Sarek inquired.  He noted the slight dipping of her head as she reflexively shrugged.

"I did know, but I wasn't aware that my tuition was to be repaid either in credits or by the bonding.  I thought the idea was just the idealistic vision of your father."

"It is my father's conviction that a bonding between Vulcan and Human would strengthen the delicate relationship between our species," Sarek stated as he noted Amanda's preoccupied look.  "Your parents agreed to the principle."

"No, my father agreed to take the tuition credits," she diffidently offered.  "I'm sorry, but he really didn't believe that things would... well." She glanced down at the walk as it carried them along.  "I don't think he'd be too pleased to know that we've met."

"There was always that possibility," Sarek reminded her as he wondered why the corners of her lips turned down and she fidgeted at his pronouncement.

"Of course there was," she agreed tersely.  "But he thought he could beat the odds by finding the amendment to my Grandfather's will."

"This amendment would have allowed for the repayment of the tuition?"

"Not only that," Amanda said as the pedwalk came to an end and they stepped off it.  "It would have restored our family to the lifestyle we lost when my Grandfather died.  My dad believed that there was an amendment to the will that gave the entire Grayson estate to my Aunt Claire.  It would have split the estate evenly.  I know this isn't a Vulcan concept, but the estate was worth millions of credits and was greatly coveted by both my dad and his sister.  If the amendment could have been found, then the tuition would have been paid, and that would be that."

"We would never have met," Sarek concluded. 

"I'd say not," Amanda agreed as they walked down a wide residential street.  Silence followed them for a moment as they considered what might have been.

"Amanda, forgive my asking such a personal question, but could you explain the tension I observed when you talked with your mother?"  As he detected the furrowing of her brow, Sarek considered his proclivity for causing an emotional reaction in the young human.

"Explain it?" she said with a hollow laugh.  "It's just something that has always been there.  I'm not sure that you'd understand."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, "However, I am curious about your relationship."

"Why?" Amanda said, but then held up her hand.  "I know... never mind.  I tried to explain my family life to T'Spia one time.  I wasn't very successful.  She didn't understand why I was so rebellious when it came to following my mother's orders."

"If it is too personal."

"No, it's not that," she said as she slowed.  Even though used to the hills, Amanda was winded trying to keep up.  "Could we slow the pace a bit?  I feel like I'm running."

Sarek came to a stop to allow Amanda time to catch up.  They were still in a residential area, but just ahead appeared to be a well-lit section of the city that indicated a shift back into a business sector.

"No, it's not too personal, but it might be too human," Amanda admitted as she wondered about the nature of their discussion.  Why wasn't she more guarded in sharing information about her personal life?  Why wasn't she worried about revealing something that could be used against her as it usually was?

"I shall attempt to understand," Sarek guardedly said as he observed the neutral look on her features.  Somewhere along their walk, Amanda had pinned her hair back and it framed the face quite pleasantly.  Straightening, he looked across the street to clear his thoughts of such illogic.

"I've always known that my mother wasn't pleased with me," Amanda said as she also turned her attention to the opposite side of the street.  "Oh, that's a dog," she supplied as the animal crossed one of the manicured lawns.  "Have you seen one before?"

"I have seen holopics," Sarek said as he felt some relief at the distraction of the creature.

"They're domesticated animals," Amanda added as she realized he probably knew more about canines than she ever would.  "Anyway, my mother is very much into presenting the right image.  She always wanted everything to be a certain way, and I suspect that she only wanted two children.  I wasn't in her grand plan."

"The increase to the family of three children would be considered a most exceptional event on Vulcan," Sarek said as he noted Amanda's surprised look.  "Due to certain physiological and environmental factors, most married couples have, at most, two children.  The birth of a child is a most welcome event."

"Yes, I believe you," Amanda softly said.  "That's the way it should be."

"That is the way it is," Sarek stated, correcting her remark.

"On Vulcan," Amanda clarified as she glanced at him.  "That's why I said it would be difficult to explain.  Even my dad said that I was a 'surprise', which is just a nice euphemism for unplanned."

"How is that possible?" he queried as he noted the incredulous look on her face.

"How?  What do you mean?"

"The conception of a child is not unplanned," he insisted even as he noted the way Amanda was shaking her head.  "You do not believe me?"

"I do," she replied as a somber look removed the surprise from her eyes.  "I really do believe that's the way it should be.  I had to do some research, but I discovered that my parents had taken a vacation around the time of my conception.  I'd say that they weren't very careful." Taking in a deep breath at the bizarre turn their conversation had taken, Amanda frowned.  "Honestly, Sarek.  This conversation is rather uncomfortable for me."

"Human females are capable of becoming impregnated at any time?" 

"No, not at any time," she said as she realized he wasn't going to drop the subject.  "There are only certain times during the month.  Aren't Vulcans like that, too?"

"No," Sarek acknowledged as he wondered at the uncomfortable look on Amanda's face.  "Is there a problem?  I consider this conversation of a clinical nature, and most illuminating."

"I consider it in rather poor taste," she retorted.  "We started off talking about why my mother was upset with me, and ended up on the differences between human and Vulcan conception."

"Such a conception is impossible," he proclaimed as they continued to walk.

"What do you mean?"

"A conception between a human and a Vulcan," Sarek explained.  "Research has indicated that the odds for such an occurrence are exceedingly low."

"But even if the odds are low, that indicates that there is a possibility," she argued.  A startling thought occurred as she considered what Sarek had revealed about Vulcans.  If they weren't fertile all the time, then that might indicate that the pon farr had some purpose other than just a brutal release of pent up emotion.  Now, that would make sense… if she were right.  There was only one way to find out.

"Is that why Vulcans undergo pon farr?"

"That is a profoundly sensitive question," Sarek said as he watched Amanda's face.  She was much easier to read than the many human diplomats he had met.  "That is the reason you left the embassy as you did."

"I left because I was frightened," she timidly admitted.  "I wasn't ready for Esda to tell me something like that.  My perception of Vulcans was deeply shaken, and I didn't care for that."

"Why?" he asked, curious if she would answer.  He'd expected to be more reticent in his decision to not end the discussion of pon farr immediately. 

"Because I wanted the Vulcans to be the one thing I wasn't," Amanda said, a winsome look on her face.  "I wanted them… you… to be perfect.  I really thought that was possible.  I hate when my illusions are shattered."

"That has happened often this weekend," Sarek deduced.

"Yes, too often," the young human agreed as she felt a jolt of shock.  She'd only known Sarek for two days?  Why did she feel like she'd known him so much longer?

"It is important to remember that no one is perfect," Sarek affirmed as they crossed a street.  "It is like our previous topic of conception.  In a perfect setting, one could remove the logistics and odds from the equation and have a child based upon simple desire.  As it is, the suggestion of a Vulcan/human hybrid is highly improbable," he declared as he noticed Amanda's smirk.  "Is something amusing?"

"Oh," Amanda said lightly.  "I was just thinking that such an assertion is quite a pick up line.  'Don't worry, sweetheart.  Pregnancy?  No, the odds of that happening are astronomical.'  Sweetheart is a term of endearment, and pick up line is something used by a person to show romantic interest in another," she added as Sarek barely nodded at the elucidation.  He wondered momentarily why she knew that he would question her unclear word choices, but her explanations were most welcome.

"No Vulcan would use such an illogical rationale or an endearment," he insisted.

"I know.  I wouldn't expect one to.  Oh… something else that I've noticed," Amanda said in hopes of changing the subject.  "You of all people shouldn't be so set in your ways."

"I am not inflexible," he began, but ended his critique as he heard a chuckle.

"Of course not," she said as she ruefully grinned.  "You're just obstinate."

"Why would you voice such an unfounded assumption?"

"Unfounded?  I… just." Amanda stammered, and then flung her arms up.  "Well, you're the one who followed me, stubbornly ignoring the fact that I was trying to get away from the embassy."

"I did not ignore that fact," he stated as he stared a moment at her hands, which hadn't been still since they'd began their walk.  "Is there a purpose for waving ones arms about?"

"No, I suppose not," she admitted as she compelled her wayward limbs to remain at her side.  "My dad says that if my hands were tied, I wouldn't be able to speak."

"Illogical, since they have nothing to do with your communicative ability," Sarek stated as he curiously gazed at her petite hands.  "What of the unhealthy color of your nails?" he asked, peculiarly reveling in the need to examine her physical appearance without reproof.

"Unhealthy?" Amanda exclaimed as she checked her hands.  "Oh!  You mean the nail polish.  It's mostly a human thing, I believe, although other species have reportedly done similar decorative things."

"What is the reasoning for polishing one's nails?"

"The purpose is to make them more attractive," she replied as she felt the slow rise of color moving up from her chest.  Why Sarek was suddenly interested in examining her was embarrassing enough, but of all the colors for her to choose, even if it matched her blouse.  It was doubtful that he'd ask, but Amanda was convinced that she'd die of mortification if she had to reveal that the nail color was called `flashy passion'.

"Do you consider your nails unattractive without the polish?"

Amanda smiled at the question even as she considered what an odd sight they must be to others on the street… a human female in a conservative shirt and blouse, high heels in hand, and a Vulcan male wearing an unassuming forest green tunic shirt and black pants.  The hooded cloak that hung regally from his shoulder blades seemed to emphasize a certain imposing superiority that accompanied Vulcans like a birthright.

"No, my nails don't have to be polished to be attractive," Amanda said with a sigh of exasperation.  "What is that symbol on your cloak?" she asked, hoping yet again to change the subject.

"It is my House and Clan name," Sarek replied as he slowed yet again to allow Amanda to catch up.  "The ancient hieroglyphics are Pre-Reform."

"Really?" she said with interest as she studied the unusual dashed, dots, and squiggled lines that made up the hand stitched writing.  "Did you have to learn to write in the Pre-Reform method?"

"We learn the correct form as children; however, it is rarely used except by scholars," he offered. 

"That is my opinion of many of the subjects I learned in school," Amanda avowed as she gave Sarek a quizzical look.  "What are you doing?"  He had leaned toward her for a moment, and then straightened.

"I was curious about a matter, but that inquisitiveness has been sated," he replied.  "You smell."

"What?!"  Amanda cried out as her eyes widened in horror.  "I do not!"

"You do," Sarek insisted.  "It is a floral scent that appears to be of an synthetic nature.  What would cause that odor to linger on you?"

After her initial shock and righteous anger passed, she took in a deep breath… and laughed.  "Oh!" Amanda said in relief.  "You smell my perfume!  That's an accessory like nail polish that's used to make one more attractive."  She grinned mischievously as she leaned toward Sarek.  "By the way, you smell, too."

"I am not wearing perfume," he declared, and both eyebrows shot up as Amanda giggled.  It was a pleasant sound, but the reason for her amusement was unknown to him.

"No," Amanda agreed.  "Men don't wear perfume unless it's unisex.  Whatever cologne or soap you use is…um," she didn't try to hide her discomfiture as she shrugged slightly, "it's very nice… quite masculine.  Sort of a faint musk."

"I do not wear… cologne?  Is that a form of synthetic odor enhancement?"

"For males, yes," she concurred.  "It's not required, of course."  Now, if she could only figure out if it was the soap or just some natural Vulcan body aroma.  T'Spia didn't smell that good to her, however.  Clean, certainly.  So, what was it… something that only Vulcan males emitted?

The city street had widened, and more people were around them on the sidewalks.  While Amanda tried to understand her wildly fluctuating emotions that ranged from disappointment and relief at the sight of the growing masses, Sarek slowed his pace again as a small group of humans exited an eating establishment and gathered outside the restaurant.  As they finally got around the group, Amanda shyly glanced up into the overly reserved face.

"I know I asked before, but why are you here?"

"It is appropriate to escort you to your lodging," Sarek replied as he considered the propriety of his action.  Would it not draw undesirable attention for them to be seen together?  Perhaps it was time to end the casualness that he sensed had inexplicably entered their discourse. 

Their pace was now unhurried as a group of students passed.  They were now in close proximity to the university grounds, and Amanda noticed the way they were beginning to draw unwanted attention.  It was almost certainly the curious sight of a Vulcan away from the safe confines of the Embassy that was causing the stares and whispers.  Still, an imperceptible transformation occurred as they made their way past the students.  An air of formality and distance entered that hadn't been present earlier and effectively ended their informal conversation. 

"I believe our tour is coming to an end," Amanda said, a hint of regret in her voice as they approached an area called 'Resident Row'.  The streets teemed with undergraduates, and Amanda suddenly felt off-balance as she considered the fact that they were heading to her residence hall… her apartment.  Sarek had said that he wanted to ensure that she was safely returned to campus.  Still, at what point did she tell him that this was far enough?

"Indeed," the Vulcan replied distantly as his attention was drawn to something just over Amanda's shoulder.  "It appears that I shall not have to take the shuttle back to the embassy."

Turning, the young woman immediately saw the familiar unmarked vehicle that sat patiently at the curb next to her building.

"That's good," Amanda said with a forced smile that hid her regret.  "If you had taken the shuttle and activated the door opening mechanism again, I believe there would have been a riot."

"My action did have a decidedly negative effect on the passengers," Sarek agreed as they made their way to the flitter.  At the door, he paused as the driver's door opened and Sasep stood to peer impassively at his passenger.  "I shall take my leave of you," he said formally, not allowing any trace of emotion to show in his voice or countenance. 

"I thank you for your escort," Amanda said, barely able to conceal her disappointment.  Of course Sarek wasn't going to tell her he'd enjoyed their limited time together.  Still.

"Do you require further assistance?" he asked, although his tone indicated that the question was only a formality.

"No," she replied, and immediately wondered what he would have said if she'd told him that she did need further assistance.  He probably would have told her how illogical her answer was.

"Live long and prosper," he said as he raised his right hand into the ta'al.  Amanda matched his action, and then he entered the flitter.  As it left the curb, she followed the vehicle with her eyes until it rounded a corner and disappeared.  With a sigh, she shook her head and wondered at her swirling emotions and thoughts.  She needed to contact the hospital and discover her father's condition… classes started in the morning and she didn't have her organizer together yet… she would have to look for another job now that the summer was over… and…

And now, she wasn't sure what to think of the bonding arrangement.  Why did Sasep show up before they could say goodbye? With a determined resolve, Amanda entered the resident hall and pushed the matter from her mind temporarily.  She still had time... eleven days until her birthday.  Perhaps her father would recover by that time and he could answer her questions.  But the one question she couldn't answer played over and over as she chastised her foolish notion.  Why did she hope that her father didn't have the credits stashed away somewhere to repay Skon?

----     

"Mrs. Grayson?"

Maura jumped slightly as she hurriedly stood.  Dan carefully stretched from his chair next to her.  Her body ached from sitting in the waiting room for hours.  While a new treatment regiment had been introduced, there didn't seem to be any improvement in John's condition.  According to the doctors, however, the threat of death diminished with each passing hour.  She could only pray that was the case.

"Yes?  Is John awake?" she asked the young woman dressed in medical attire that stood before her.

"No, he's still asleep," the woman said as she motioned for Maura to join her "You have a comm call."

"Oh," Maura replied, a knowing look in her eyes.  It was likely Matt, who had left the hospital to be with Ming and her father.  He was probably calling to check on his father's progress, unlike a certain daughter who couldn't be bothered to return her calls.  Matt had tried to reach Amanda after her abrupt link break, but he'd been unsuccessful.  It was good to have two children who were selfless.  Why her son wasn't using her direct communicator link was strange, but he'd have an explanation.

Pointing toward a privacy booth, the nurse gave Maura a sympathetic smile as the anxious woman entered the booth and activated the privacy code.  As the monitor screen remained blank, an 'audio only' light activated.  Matt wouldn't do such a thing, so who was contacting her?

"Who are you?" Maura asked as the link indicator gave no clear origin for the call.

"I realize that this is a most inopportune time to contact you; however, matters of grave importance must be discussed."  The voice was muted and low, but decidedly female.

"What are you talking about?" Maura said with increasing vexation.  "My husband is dying, and I can't think of any other matters that are more important."

"Allow me to explain," the voice said.  "I understand that your husband borrowed your child's tuition from Skon, the Vulcan ambassador to Earth."

"Yes, that's what I understand," Maura agreed as she narrowed her eyes.  "Look, if you're working for Skon and want to be repaid, I'm…"

"No, you do not understand.  I am not contacting you for repayment.  I believe that I have a proposition that will end the issue of obligation permanently."

"Oh?" Maura whispered, interest piqued by such a proposal.

"Indeed," the woman said.  "Once the credits have been transferred, your husband can repay Skon.  The credits I speak of shall come from an… anonymous… source."

"Enough to pay for the three years of tuition?" Maura asked.  "What's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"What are the stipulations?"

"Ah," the voice replied.  "There is only one stipulation.  You must agree that our conversation did not take place.  The tuition will be paid, and all agreements between Skon and your husband will be invalidated."

"I see," Maura said, the weight of the unpaid debt lifting from her.  "I know that my daughter mentioned that she was going to take care of the problem with the tuition.  I don't know how she planned to do that, though."

"Her assistance is unnecessary," the voice stated.  "I believe my solution will work to the benefit of all.  Do you not agree?"

Maura took in a deep breath as she slowly began to nod.  "If this… anonymous… source has the ability to repay the tuition with no further obligations on our part, then I'm all for it.  We never spoke."

"No, this conversation never took place."

The monitor link ended, and Maura sighed as a smile played on her lips.  John was stable, and now the tuition problem was resolved!  At least the end of the day was a good deal better than the beginning.

Chapter 19 – The Repayment

McCoy: Please, Spock, do me a favor and don't say it's fascinating.
Spock:  No.  But it is.interesting.
(ST TOS  The Ultimate Computer)


"I shall speak with thee, Sarekam."

Four days had passed since his arrival back at the embassy in the flitter driven by Sasep.  It was unusual that there had been no inquiry by Skon immediately upon Sarek's return; however, pressing matters that included the enhanced defensive policy enacted due to the influx of additional threats from the Boston terrorist group required immediate attention.  The lack of reliable intelligence from the Earth officials was appalling in Sarek's uncompromising judgment.  Any of the embassies or consulate offices on the planet might be susceptible to attack, and yet virtually no useful information had been uncovered about the forces behind the terror.  When he was not occupied with his official duties, Sarek meticulously prepared a report of the compelling reasons for his departure and actions during his sojourn in San Francisco.  He anticipated that the expected inquiry would be quite thorough.  Every element of his journey had been covered, from his decision to leave the embassy grounds after Amanda's frantic departure, to his eventual return in the unmarked vehicle.  Soran, who was still on Vulcan with his wife and newborn son on an extended leave of absence, had agreed to carefully scrutinize the report and had pronounced it satisfactory.  Now, it would depend upon Skon's impending analysis as to whether it was truly acceptable.

Following his father into his office, Sarek trailed respectfully behind the stately Vulcan as they took their customary places near the palatial windows.  The view was as striking as ever, and Sarek allowed a pang of regret to enter his thoughts at the impending changes that had been proposed and finalized.  The new Federation Headquarters would require the relocation of the Vulcan embassy to another setting.  The Earth embassy would also be demolished, but with the overlapping duties of intergalactic diplomacy present, the decision was reached that there would be no further need for a separate entity that addressed the needs of off-world interests.  The displaced staff would be given comparable jobs within the current Federation Headquarters already located planet side.  Sarek knew that his father was against the idea of keeping the Headquarters on Earth, but few had backed his alternative plan for a more impartial location.

"I believe the human expression is `there is a storm brewing'," Skon declared as he raised his right hand toward the window.  While the skies overhead were clear, a menacing blackish-blue horizon unerringly advanced upon the bay as an occasional burst of lightning lit the ever-increasing clouds from within.

"The inclement weather was correctly forecast and planned for," Sarek said, curious about his father's announcement.

"Yes, that is true," the elder Vulcan said.  "The elements have been reigned in to prevent severe damage.  We shall only receive the less problematic rain."

"Indeed," the son replied, an uncomfortable sensation forming at his father's choice of words.  "It is a technology that has allowed for fewer casualties and injuries due to controllable weather conditions."

"It has also taken away from the inherent beauty… the untamed strength… of this world," Skon softly countered, his eyes fixed on the shadowy landscape.  "That is the danger with interference.  At what price does one transform natural surroundings to a idyllic vision, only to have the newly developed reality produce devastating repercussions?"

Sarek glanced in his father's direction as he clasped his hands behind his back.  "There is always a chance that interference will be counterproductive.  One must carefully consider that prospect prior to reaching a decision."

"Yes, I concur," Skon answered as a particularly bright flash of lightning lit the office.  "I have been contacted by the Vulcan high council.  They have recalled me to Vulcan.  I leave in ten days."

Sarek sharply turned to face his father as the elder Vulcan remained focused on the view.  "What purpose is served in recalling you at this juncture?"

"The council believes, as I do, that you are prepared for the Ambassadorial role.  We are aware of the masterful way you handled the issue of directing our medical facilities to assist the Earth hospital even as tensions between humans and Vulcans have escalated.  It is frustrating that those who accepted our aid are now questioning our motives.  There have even been newsvid reports claiming that the reason we offered a potential cure for the bioweapon was due to our involvement in the attack.  It is such outrageous assertions that completely destroy our efforts at improved relations.  It is time for a change in leadership that I fully support.  Others have commented on your skill in past negotiations and continuing diplomatic matters."  Skon glanced over at his silent son.  "You are ready."

"Your confidence in my abilities is most significant to me," Sarek noted solemnly as he considered the timing of his father's departure.  "You shall leave after the bonding ceremony?"

Skon raised an eyebrow as he turned to face Sarek.  "It is your contention that there will be a bonding?"  As his son drew himself up, Skon listened to the rumbling of thunder that echoed across the bay.

"Yes, there will be a bonding.  That is what has been planned," Sarek replied simply as he noted his father's stillness.

"Sarekam," Skon began, his mild tone a contrast to the storm. "You are correct that the bonding was planned; however, plans can, and often do, change.  One must be willing to scrutinize the logic of a held conviction, no matter how difficult that analysis might be.  Although our best efforts were employed, Amanda does not appear to be ready.  It is most regrettable due to my continued belief that it would have eventually strengthened our ties with Earth."

"You are mistaken, Father," Sarek said, forcing his voice to remain level and surprised by the effort it took.  "I believe that there is still time for her to acclimate herself to the expected norm."

"Vulcan norm?" Skon replied.  "My son, she fled from the embassy when confronted with the reality of the Time.  How is she to be the wife of an Ambassador when she appears stubbornly disinclined to alien cultures?"

"I have seen no evidence of xenophobia.  She was not prepared for the discussion matter as presented." Sarek insisted.  "I would not expect to enter into a room at the Earth Embassy and have one of their healers discuss matters of a sexual nature.  I also question the delivery of the information."

"Why?" Skon asked as torrential rains pelted the windows.

"As a healer, Esda is quite proficient in her duties," Sarek answered, a sense of ease settling on him as the deliberation continued.  "However, she is unbonded and has no personal experience with the Time."

"She has also not suffered from Rigillian fever," Skon countered.  "That does not mean that she cannot explain its effects."

"The possibility of bias enters due to her Family's well-known step away from traditional bondings," Sarek retorted.  "I have also been informed that she is one of several alternate bondsmates selected for me."

"Who informed you of that?" the ambassador sharply asked as he ran a litany of names through his mind.

"Soran was made privy to an unconfirmed discussion between Esda and Sennar about my unbonded status," the younger Vulcan said as he observed the darkening of his father's eyes.  "Since the entire matter was not properly established as factual and occurred prior to Soran's leave, I thought it not worthy of mention."

Skon slowly walked to his desk, leaving the rain soaked panorama behind.  Sarek lingered a moment before joining his father.  As they sat, the Ambassador steeped his fingers on his desk.

"Sarekam, the issue of bondsmate is between Family.  Your mother and I did not select Esda.  I understand that your position and our Family's venerated name attracts the interests of those who desire to advance their Family; however, I am most displeased to learn that my aide and our Embassy's healer may have disillusioned Amanda."

"There is no proof of such an incidence, Father," Sarek maintained.

"Since you are not concerned about the uncorroborated rumor and its possible effects, then the matter is closed," Skon concluded as he glanced over at his monitor.  "I have already discussed your impending Ambassadorship with Agani.  She has graciously offered to hold a reception in my honor.  She has also revealed that the annual Terran Embassy formal banquet and dance is to occur this weekend.  Logically, it would be most beneficial for the two be held concurrently."

"That would be an efficient use of time," Sarek noted.  He's heard about the Terran banquet and dance, but had paid little attention to the social event in the past.  Now that he was to attend the reception that honored his father's accomplishments, he apparently had no choice in the matter.  "When is the reception?"

"There is only a short time to prepare," Skon admitted as he stood.  "The banquet and dance are to be held in two days at 1900 hours.  Your mother has arranged transport to be here that evening."

"That is agreeable to hear," the son lightly said as he also stood.  "You will not be without an escort."

Skon narrowed his eyes at his son's rather bold assessment.  "No, I will not be without an escort," he said, his tone firm.

"I meant no disrespect, Father," Sarek immediately said, a hint of contrition in his voice.  "It is most fortuitous that Mother will be present as you receive the accolades you richly deserve."

"That is a proper response, my son," Skon said as he matched his son's earlier light tone.

Sarek inclined his head as he strode toward the office door.  Before leaving the office, Skon raised his left hand to stop his son.

"Sarekam," he said as the door opened.  "You mentioned my lack of escort to the reception.  Have you considered your situation?"

"I have," Sarek replied, his tone neutral.  "I shall take care of the matter appropriately."

Skon raised both eyebrows at the statement.  "Do you believe it is proper for you to ask Amanda?"

Sarek seemed momentarily at a loss for words, but then turned and inclined his head as a determined look appeared in his eyes.  "The time for improving relations has begun.  I believe it is appropriate for me to invite Amanda."  Sarek paused as a slight vacillation overtook his resolute facade.  "However, I cannot ascertain whether or not she will agree to accompany me.  The probability of an affirmative reaction is simply incalculable."

"Indeed," Skon agreed as his son left the office that would soon be his.  "Humans do have that effect on the odds."

`It is time to wake up… it is time to wake up… it is time.'

Amanda's head lolled back against her pillow and nearly hit the headboard as she sighed deeply.  "Off," she groggily ordered, and the alarm obediently became silent.  With a huge yawn, the young woman crawled out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.  The Tuesday morning introduction should have warned her that she wasn't cut out for a 0800 hour psychology lecture.  She'd nearly nodded off as the professor, a woman straight out of college herself, droned on and on about the unique qualities of the human psyche.  Amanda could care less about the psyche or anything else related to the subject matter at that hour.  Still, she needed the hours, and the feeling she got about the professor indicated that it should be a fairly undemanding class, if she could remain focused and awake.

A sonic shower and change of clothes vastly improved her attitude as she carefully applied her makeup and considered her schedule for the day.  The storm was going to make walking between buildings a soggy adventure, and she dreaded the way her long, curly hair would react in the high humidity.  She really ought to get it cut short.  Perhaps after she found another job to take the place of the embassy position.  As she considered her options for a shorter style, her personal monitor chime sounded.  Wrinkling her nose at the blank screen, Amanda pulled her hair back as she sat down at her built-in desk.  It was almost certainly someone from her floor. Vega or India were the two people who sprang immediately to mind.  No doubt, they wanted to borrow something.  As she hit the 'accept' key, she widely yawned again as the screen cleared.

"Sarek!" she stammered as she clamped her mouth shut, effectively biting her tongue as she did.  "Ow!  Damn it, my tongue!  Oh, I didn't mean that."

"Have you injured yourself?" the Vulcan asked as he watched Amanda's hand fly to her mouth as she swiftly shook her head.

"No," she admitted sheepishly as she kept her hand over her mouth.  "I just bit my tongue.  I hate when I do that!  It really hurts."

"I would recommend not biting your tongue in the future," Sarek advised as he tilted his head as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'll keep that in mind," Amanda mumbled as she stared at the screen.  "Why are you contacting me at this time?  I have to leave in about ten minutes for my first class."

"I shall make this as brief as possible," Sarek replied as he watched Amanda stifle another yawn.  "Saturday at 1900 hours, a banquet, dance, and reception to honor my father's accomplishments shall be held at the Terran Embassy.  Skon is returning to Vulcan, and I am to take his position as Earth's ambassador."

Amanda very nearly bit her tongue again as she blinked in surprise.  "Congratulations, Sarek.  I'm certain that you'll make an excellent Ambassador."

He inclined his head at the sincere praise before speaking again.  "Since the affair required that I have an escort, I am requesting your presence."

As she stared at the screen into Sarek's face, it occurred to her that she'd been wrong; his eyes weren't brown at all.  They were, in fact, a very dark hazel.  Mentally shaking herself, she realized he was patiently waiting for her answer.

"I don't believe I can, under the circumstances," she quietly lamented, her tone reflecting her disappointment at what she felt was her only option.

"I do not understand," Sarek stated.  "Elucidate."

"Very well," Amanda said, a sense of anger replacing the regret as she considered the probable reason Sarek was inviting her in the first place.  "I haven't spoken with you since you left with Sasep four days ago.  You've made no effort to contact me until now, and you're not asking me to escort you because you actually want me to.  This is just part of the repayment, isn't it?  Do you think that you can just snap your fingers and I'll come running?"

"My request is not part of any form of repayment," Sarek insisted, his voice louder than he intended.  He immediately suppressed an errant temperamental thought about headstrong humans as he continued.  "I have also not `snapped' my fingers.  What purpose is served by such an action?"

"You expect me to go with you," she answered as she barely kept her rage in check.  "No, you believe I have no choice because of the entire tuition debacle." 

"That is an erroneous assumption," the Vulcan said.  "There were others I could have invited.  I chose to invite you."

Amanda felt her indignation dissipate as she stared, speechless, at Sarek.  How did he do that, she fleetingly wondered, as she mulled over what was quite likely the most selfish comment she'd ever heard uttered by a Vulcan.  He had make the decision to invite her?

"I see," Amanda replied, slowly dragging out the words as she stalled for time.  What was she supposed to do?  "I appreciate your invitation," she said as she carefully considered what to say that wouldn't appear impolite.  "However, I must question the timing of such a social affair.  The newsvids are still buzzing about the Boston attack, and with those killed and injured still in everyone's thoughts, it seems vulgar to me that there will be a party."

"Your father's health continues to improve, I trust?" Sarek asked now that he understood Amanda's hesitation in accepting his invitation.

"Yes," she said as her expression brightened, and then faded.  "He is getting better, but the doctors are still not sure how much damage the bioweapon did.  He's in a medically induced coma that's supposed to assist with the nerve regeneration.  I've been talking with my family on a daily basis.  A few days ago, Mother mentioned that there is a clinic in Calais that is supposed to be the pre-eminent rehabilitation facility here on Earth."

"Is that where your father will be sent?" Sarek inquired as he observed her bemused frown.

"I'm not sure," Amanda slowly admitted.  "My understanding of the situation is that the clinic isn't an approved facility that would be covered by my father's health insurance.  The insurance generally covers everything, but the clinic conducts a number of experimental studies and uses treatments that haven't been accepted by most in the medical community."

Only three days earlier, Matt had bemoaned the fact that the privately run clinic had demanded an exorbitant preadmission fee before John could be transferred.  Then, last night, her mother had contacted her to ask if she was positive she could repay Skon.  After verifying several times that Amanda did know of a way, Maura had smiled mysteriously and said that she thought there might be a way, after all, to get the credits for her dad's clinic stay.  The conversation still puzzled Amanda, but she was elated by the prospect of her dad's recovery and didn't press the issue.

"If I can be of assistance." Sarek began, but the young woman shook her head.

"No, although I appreciate your offer," she said as her eyes widened as she checked the chrono.  "Oh, I have to go!  I'm going to be late to class!"

"Are you rejecting my invitation?" he inquired impassively.  "I understand your concerns about the propriety of holding a social event at this time.  If you cannot attend, I shall find another escort."

Amanda scrutinized the staid face on the screen that warred with the trace undercurrent of hurt she thought she'd heard in his tone. Would he actually be bothered if she declined?  His suggestion of another escort riled her, but why it did was beyond her ability to verbalize. "Are you saying that it won't really be a date?" she queried as Sarek raised his left eyebrow.  "A date is an arranged meeting generally between two people that could be construed as expressing romantic intentions."

"Interesting," Sarek replied.  "If you deem the term objectionable, then no, your acceptance of my invitation shall not be construed as a date."

Amanda had just triumphantly realized that she'd made it through their conversation without blushing.  Now, as he seemed to be studying her with overpowering intensity, she felt the color beginning to rise.  Ignoring her embarrassment, she raced to find a reason to go even as she worried about what her family would think.  Inspiration finally came to her.

"One of my Nanny's favorite comments used to be carpe diem, which means `seize the day'.  She always told me to trust my intuition.  So..." Amanda smiled shyly at the screen image as she continued.  "Perhaps I'll regret this, but I sincerely hope not.  'll accept your invitation."

"Sasep shall arrive at your resident hall at 1820 hours.  I shall await you at the Terran Embassy," Sarek said without preamble.

"You're not going to pick me up?" Amanda asked, disappointed.

Sarek blinked several times before he replied.  "Why would I need to pick you up?  Are you planning to faint again?"

Amanda tightly closed her eyes as she loudly exhaled.  Vulcans… literal to a fault.  "No," she emphatically said as her eyes opened.  "I thought you might come to the resident hall with Sasep, or that you might drive one of the flitters here personally."

"Ah," Sarek said as the clarification was presented.  "It is Sasep's responsibility to provide reliable and safe transportation for embassy personnel and others as the need transpires."

"I understand," she said, knowing that there would be no way to convince Sarek to `interfere' with someone's position.  "I will be ready at 1820 hours."

Sarek nodded his approval.  "Very well.  I shall take my leave of you."

"Until Saturday, then," Amanda replied as the screen darkened.  Gasping, she jumped up and grabbed her satchel that contained the computer chits and padds she'd need for classes.  While she raced down the hall, a thought slowed her even as she realized there was no possible way to get to her psychology class on time.  What was she supposed to wear to this formal event?  Standing at the lift entryway, Amanda felt a wave of panic overtake her.  Sarek would be introduced as the new ambassador.  An ambassador!  What was he thinking when he'd invited her?  What was she thinking when she'd accepted?  She wasn't even eighteen yet, although they weren't really on a date, right?  She frowned slightly as she recalled what Sarek had said. `If you deem the term objectionable.'   Did that imply that he had no objection to the term `date', even after she told him that it might signify a romantic attachment?

"He's going to drive me crazy," she murmured as the lift opened.  Nervously, she started to giggle.  "No," she said to the empty lift wall.  "He's not driving.  Sasep is the driver."  Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, Amanda knew that she wasn't going to learn a thing in class that day.  "I wonder what time the formalwear shops close," she wondered aloud as she left the hall.  Hopefully, a few would be open late.  Better yet, she prayed that the shops had a decent rental selection or clearance area.  She had the distinct feeling that her meager savings balance would be zero before the end of the weekend.

As Amanda had expected, Sarek's invitation to the embassy function was the only thing she could think about as she robotically went from class to class.  Alternating between excitement and panic, she tried to focus on her lectures to no avail.  Before the closing comments even had time to echo off the far wall in her last class, Amanda bounded out of the lecture hall and made a beeline to her resident hall.  First, she would check on her father's condition as she did every afternoon.  Then, she would get a listing of all the formalwear shops near campus.  With any luck, she'd find a dress by that evening.

Rushing past the security checkpoint at the resident hall foyer entrance, Amanda was startled when the usually bored officer waved to get her attention.

"You're Amanda Grayson, right?" he asked as he scrutinized the ID she flashed at him.

"Yes," she replied as the young man ducked behind his desk to retrieve something.

"There was a delivery about an hour ago of this," he said as he strained to lift the rectangular box off the floor.  "It's yours."

Surprise was replaced by curiosity as the large parcel was placed on the security officer's desktop.  "I wasn't expecting anything," she said as the officer shrugged.

"It's been screen checked.  Do you need help getting it to your apartment?" he asked dutifully. 

Amanda got the distinct impression that he didn't really want to carry it for her, but if he had struggled with it. "Yes, please," she said as the man grimaced.

"Let me get someone up here," he gruffly mumbled as he stood.

Amanda was very glad that she asked the officer to help as she watched him fight with the bulky package.  Once alone in her apartment with the mysterious box, she tore into it like a child at Christmas.  As she realized what was inside, she carefully lifted the heavy material and placed it on a chair, and stepped back.  A dull sensation crept into her as she stared at the outfit.  It was a woman's garment, and was of a decidedly Vulcan design.  Checking the box, Amanda found a carefully handwritten note with penmanship that she recognized.

'Amanda,
It is my understanding that you accepted Sarek's invitation to the Embassy banquet, dinner, and reception.  The enclosed clothing is considered proper for such an event, and Skon requested that the items be sent.  I shall see you on Saturday.
T'Spia'

Closing her eyes, she fought against the temptation to cry.  Was this the way it was going to be?  She couldn't even pick out her own clothes?  It wasn't that the garment was ugly; actually, the floor length gown of burnt orange was quite attractive, and the outer robe of a darker orange shade was intricately decorated with a finely threaded pattern of tiny swirls.  Grudgingly, Amanda knew that she wanted to at least try it on, and so she shrugged off her shirt and khakis and slipped on the gown. 

Again, the weight of the Vulcan material shocked her.  While the outer shell of the dress appeared similar to a lightweight silk, it felt burdensome against her skin.  With a smirk, she pulled on the robe and, as she'd anticipated, felt her shoulder and back muscles strain under the load.  Getting from room to room proved to be exhausting as she felt like she was wearing a suit of armor.  With a self-effacing chuckle, she examined her reflection in a mirror in her bedroom. "What a pitiful Vulcan you'd make," she murmured as she touched a silken sleeve.  "You can't even wear the clothes."

A feeling of alarm swept through her as she wondered what she should do.  Skon obviously expected her to wear the outfit, but the thought of trying to make it through an evening wearing the oppressive attire was unsettling.  With a determined shake of her head, she pulled off the robe and gown.  No, she wasn't going to wear it.  She could just imagine herself passing out on the ballroom floor in front of everyone.  She'd just have to explain that the material was too heavy for her. 

Changed back into her casual top and pants, Amanda pressed the 'new message' button on her monitor.  Her mother's pre-programmed number flashed a moment, and then the screen cleared.

"How's dad today?" Amanda asked as her mother distractedly looked off-screen.

"Just a minute," Maura said as she nodded at whoever was with her.  "Yes, thank you," the woman said as Amanda heard a door slide shut.  As her mother turned her attention back to her, Amanda was immediately suspicious of the unusually pleasant look on Maura's features.

"Who were you speaking with?" the girl asked.

"One of the administrators," Maura said as she continued to smile.  "Your father is going to be transferred today to the Calais clinic."

"That's wonderful!" Amanda replied as a matching smile appeared.  "You were able to get the preadmission fee?"

"Yes," the woman agreed.  "I should have enough to pay for several months of treatment."

"I'm so glad to hear that," Amanda said, as Maura's expression became a neutral mask. "Is something wrong?"

"No... no," Maura said hesitantly.  "I just… Amanda, you're sure that you can repay the tuition?"

"I told you 'yes' already!" Amanda heatedly replied.  "Why do you keep asking me?"

"It's very important that your father is not burdened with the debt.  His condition has improved, but he's to avoid any type of stress."

The girl looked down at her hands for a moment.  "Mother," she softly began, "I hate to ask, but can you send me some credits?  I'm down to around one hundred."

"One hundred?" Maura repeated as she shook her head.  "I thought you had close to four hundred just a few weeks ago?"

Amanda quickly agreed with a nod.  "Yes, I did," she said.  "I needed to get some more computer chits, and one of my padds was malfunctioning.  I also needed some more clothes."

"Of course," her mother sighed.  "Clothes."

"I can't help it that what I have is falling apart," the girl claimed as she weakly smiled.  "I'm looking for a job so that I won't have to ask again.  I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

She couldn't explain it, but for a brief moment, Amanda feared that her mother might start to weep as her eyes shone with tears.  "You're no trouble," Maura said, her voice barely a whisper.  "You've helped your father more than you can know."

Confused, Amanda narrowed her eyes at her mother's bizarre statement.  "Helped him?  How?"

"Never mind," her mother said as she cleared her throat.  "Just know that I'm grateful.  I'll send you the clinic information from Calais when we get there."

"Good," Amanda said, a sense of uncertainty clouding her tone at her mother's atypical manner.  "I'll talk with you tomorrow."

As she left the resident hall to look for a gown, the strange conversation played in her mind.  Why was her mother so emotional all of a sudden?  Perhaps her dad's injury had changed Maura's attitude toward her.  A wave of guilt hit as she considered the lie she'd told about her credit balance.  Her loath ability to believe that her mother might actually care for her troubled the girl as she stepped onto a pedwalk that would take her off-campus.  Amanda was genuinely delighted to think that she'd done something her mother approved of.  But, what had she done?

As she went from store to store, two things became instantly clear.  First, most of the gowns had been picked over due to the number of social functions at that time of the year.  Second, her three hundred-credit limit was a joke.  Every dress she found cost at least double that amount.  Dejectedly, she returned to campus late that evening empty handed. 

Friday was nearly a carbon copy of Thursday in that Amanda couldn't concentrate in her classes.  News that her father was doing well at the clinic was the only bright spot so far as she desperately searched for an ensemble that would be acceptable.  Her inability to find a dress was taking a toll on her nerves.  Sure, there were dresses available, but they were too expensive, too trendy, too matronly, too revealing, or too ghastly.  By 2200 hours, as the last store closed, Amanda was beyond the point of panic.  Why had she accepted Sarek's invitation?  Was she going to have to wear the Vulcan outfit even though she'd probably end up dying of heat prostration by the end of the night?

Disconsolately back on campus, Amanda walked past several groups of cheerful students.  Their good humor seemed to darken her mood even further.  As she started to pass the Durham Theater, she saw that several students were sitting together on a bench, each looking as depressed as she probably appeared. "India?  What's wrong?" Amanda asked as she recognized the usually exuberant girl sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the bench.

"Oh, it's just awful, Amanda," India said as she stood.  "Sabille just got a failing grade on his collection."

"His collection?" Amanda queried as she looked closer at those seated.  She didn't know who Sabille was, but she swiftly surmised that it had to be the sobbing young man between two sympathetic friends.

"Yes," India said, her tone benevolent as she smiled encouragingly in the direction of the sobs.  "He's a good friend of ours who attends the Fashion Institute.  It's his Spring/Summer collection that got him in trouble."

"And after the raves he got on the Fall/Winter," one of the young women said from the bench as more sniffles filled the air.

"It's despair time," the other woman said as Sabille seemed to be trying to pull himself together.  "Oh, hon, your face is a mess!"

"That's not helpful," Sabille sullenly pouted as he stood.  Much to Amanda's surprise, he was shorter than she was, and had a shock of wildly out of control hair blocking his eyes.  The blond mane seemingly overpowered the petite man as he reached out to shake her hand.  "I'm sorry to meet you like this, darling.  I'm Sabille.  Would you like to join our pity party?"

Amanda couldn't help but smile at the man as she extended her hand.  After a quick series of shakes, Sabille released his grip and forced a smile. 

"What happened?" she asked, and the smile fled from the man's thin lips.

"I'm a student," Sabille said as he took in a melodramatic breath.  "Actually, I consider myself a visionary, but some antiques at the Institute can't open their minds.  I've been studying fashion and design now for three years… three years!"  He raked a hand through his hair.  "Last spring, I presented my Fall/Winter collection of clothes to be graded and got one of the highest marks ever given by the director.  Then… tragedy."

"The Spring/Summer?" Amanda deduced.

"Yes," Sabille whispered as he slowly sank back onto the bench.  "My vision was completely annihilated by the mighty director.  I just don't understand."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," Amanda gently replied.  "It's rather ironic, actually.  I'm also in the middle of a fashion nightmare."

"Yes, I see that," Sabille said with a critical snap in his voice.  "Your outfit is boring with a capital 'B'."

"I'm not talking about this," she retorted, waving her hand to take in her clothes.  "I'm talking about a function that I've been invited to.  I have nothing formal enough to wear except something that's too heavy for me, and the party is at 1900 tomorrow."

"Too heavy?" India inquired as she wrinkled her nose.  "Why did you buy it, then?"

"I didn't buy it," Amanda admitted.  "It was… a gift."

"A formal," Sabille slowly repeated.  "Where are you going?"

"To the embassy banquet and dance tomorrow," the girl said. 

"The embassy?  The Terran embassy with all those diplomats who attend all those functions?  Really." the design student slowly said as a huge smile suddenly lit his face.  "That's fantastic!"

"No, it's not," Amanda said bitterly.  "I have nothing to wear."

Sabille pushed himself up off the bench and bounded down the walkway.  "Would you like something to wear?" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Of course," the girl curiously replied.

"Well, then, follow me!" the student said as the others ran to catch up.

Not sure what else to do, Amanda also ran after them.  She was breathless by the time she caught up with the foursome. 

"Where are we going?" she wheezed out as they kept a frenetic pace.

"Back to my apartment," Sabille supplied as he giddily pranced along.  "Have I got a gown for you!"

Although doubtful of his proclamation, Amanda went with the group off-campus to a small apartment building that was popular with students from several other institutes.  As he led the way, Sabille hummed merrily to himself.

"Here we are," he said in a singsong tone.  The door opened to a wildly decorated central room with skeins of material piled in one corner, and several fashion mannequins dressed in haute couture outfits.  At the sight of the gaudily dressed forms, Amanda immediately began to formulate an excuse as to why she couldn't wear the gown Sabille had designed.  He had run into a back room in his apartment, and the four young women milled about for a moment as they heard rummaging sounds that emanated into the hallway.

"Here it is," Sabille said in a reverent tone as he reentered the central room.  Amanda's eyes widened as her mouth dropped.  Instead of the awful disaster she'd expected, the gown was absolutely beautiful.  The ice blue taffeta bodice was decorated with tiny crystals that sparkled even in the poorly lit apartment, while the flowing organza skirt shimmered like a pool of clear water.  As the girls gave wholeheartedly positive reviews to the dress, Sabille blushed madly and started to giggle.

"Yes, it is gorgeous, isn't it?" he crowed triumphantly.  "It might be a little big, but I can alter it to fit."

"You'll let me wear this tomorrow?" Amanda timidly asked, certain that she was dreaming.

"Are you kidding?" Sabille said with a grin.  "I'm depending on you to wear it!  Make sure to tell everyone at the embassy that Sabille Gyhanaano designed it, and we'll be friends for life."

Amanda shook her head in amazement as she grinned.  "If we can get this dress to fit, you'll have a customer for life."

Shaking hands again, they both started to laugh.  For the first time since she accepted Sarek's invitation, Amanda could relax and look forward to the event.  Although it was probably asking for too much, she hoped that Sarek would like her appearance.  As she slipped on the lovely gown, Amanda decided that it wouldn't matter what he thought, with or without his approval, she planned to have a marvellous time.

Chapter 20 – The Dance

Droxine:  I have never before met a Vulcan, sir.
Spock:  Nor I a work of art, madam.
(ST-TOS  The Cloud Minders)

Nervously pacing in her apartment, Amanda checked her appearance for the umpteenth time in her bedroom mirror as the afternoon crawled by.  It didn't seem possible that she'd actually been lucky for once.  Sabille had carefully altered the dress, and while she still felt the bodice was too snug, he'd insisted that it was necessary for his `vision'.  The bodice laced up in the back and was pulled skintight around her midsection, while the skirt gently fell to the floor.  She'd been vastly amused when the young designer admitted that the gown had actually been a part of his 'failed' Spring/Summer collection.  The director of the Institute had claimed that the dress was too conservative.  That suited Amanda just fine.  She thought it was lovely, and while he'd fussed about `distorting' his creation, Sabille finally agreed to make a simple sheer scarf out of a remnant of the taffeta material that would drape around her neck and fall to just below her waist.  Her good fortune continued when she found a pair of dainty silver thong sandals with a delicate rhinestone buckle at a nearby shop earlier in the day.  Despite its high heel, the shoes were comfortable and would be perfect for dancing.  A matching silver clutch purse was discovered at the same store.  India and her friends had been fantastic in helping her primp and prepare.  One of the girls, named Clover, had actually allowed her to borrow a piece of her jewelry.  The chevron necklace lined with tiny clear and sapphire synthetic crystals was the finishing touch to her ensemble.  With her hair up in a flattering style, and makeup painstakingly applied, Amanda couldn't think of anything else that she needed, except for one thing.  She hated to admit it, but she frankly wanted Sarek to say something – anything – about her appearance, preferably something favorable.  It wasn't likely to happen since it wouldn't be logical, so she reluctantly pushed the thought aside as she exited her apartment.  Sabille and the girls trailed behind as they offered her some final advice.

"Have a wonderful time!" India yelled as Amanda turned to say goodbye.

"Yes, hon," Clover added.  "And don't worry about the necklace.  It's not real."

"I'll return it to you tomorrow," Amanda assured as she took in the others with a look.  "I'll return everything tomorrow."

"Don't even think about it!" Sabille insisted as he carefully scrutinized her attire one last time.  "Worry causes stress, and stress causes wrinkles.  There's nothing else I can do for you now, darling.  Now, it's all up to you."

"Thank you," Amanda sincerely offered as she gave the man a hug.

"No, thank you," Sabille replied as he broadly smiled.  "Just two favors.  Don't tell anyone at the banquet that I just gave you that dress.  Tell them you spent a fortune."

"All right," Amanda said as her smile grew.

"And second," he said as he glared in a rather non-threatening way at her.  "If you refer to me in any way as your Fairy Godfather, I'll personally strangle you with that taffeta scarf."

"I'd never call you that," the young woman said with a laugh.  "Trust me, I'm no Cinderella."

"Even so, don't let your escort treat you in any way other than as a princess," Sabille maintained as something on the street caught his attention.  "I believe your coach has arrived," he said as the diplomatic vehicle pulled up to the curb.

"I know I keep saying this, but thank you so much," Amanda repeated as she waited for the flitter door to open.

"A vehicle from the Vulcan embassy?" India curiously asked as the others also peered at the official markings.  "I thought the banquet was at the Terran Embassy?"

"It is," Amanda granted as she slipped into the vehicle.  "I was invited by someone at the Vulcan embassy."  With no further explanation offered, the door slid shut and the vehicle immediately pulled away.

"Do you really believe that a Vulcan invited her?" Clover posed as they watched the flitter round a corner.

"How utterly scandalous," Sabille murmured as he tilted his head.  "And for them to send a vehicle indicates that it must be someone important.  I can only hope that's true."

"Why?" India asked as they stepped onto a nearby pedwalk.

"Are you kidding?" he replied.  "If it's true, her holopic will be plastered all over the newsvids before the end of the night.  Her pic, my gown." 

As the others expressed their understanding, the designer's stance gradually became more brooding as they moved along the walkway.

"Something wrong, hon?" Clover inquired as the young man pursed his lips.

"Maybe it's nothing," Sabille reluctantly confessed as he weakly smiled.  "If it's true, then I hope that our little lady enjoyed her last day of anonymity."

Prior to the beginning of the banquet, Sarek met privately with Ambassador Agani as she offered a general overview of the evening's planned events and to offer her congratulations.  Now, Sarek strode purposefully through the crowded reception area at the Terran embassy.  He was unhurried in his pace; however, his intensity was such that others seemed to believe it prudent to get out of his path.  The Vulcan delegation that included his father had just arrived, and Sarek had intended to be one of the first to greet him, but a small cluster of human diplomats had detained him.  His imminent promotion to Ambassador unavoidably meant that he had to field the good wishes of those present, and he did so with solemn equanimity.  As he caught sight of his father, he slowed as his left eyebrow rose.  While his mother's presence was not unexpected, the appearance of the third Vulcan who followed respectfully behind Skon and T'Lara had not been anticipated.

"Sarekam, it is pleasing to see you," T'Lara said as she extended her arms, crossed, in the traditional greeting of Family.

"I am honored by your presence, Mother.  I trust that your journey was uneventful?" the son asked as he also crossed his arms and briefly touched his mother's outstretched hands.  "There was a report of an ion storm."

"Indeed," T'Lara replied as she removed her outer cloak, the dark russet material complimenting her long gown of a lighter shade.  "The storm was minor, but proved to be a hindrance to our scheduled arrival."

"The delay was regrettable, but necessary," Skon stated as he raised his hand to his wife, index and middle fingers together.  "Your presence is most agreeable, my wife."  T'Lara responded in kind as they touched fingers and, with a nod from Skon, stepped gracefully past their son to enter the reception hall.  Sarek raised an eyebrow at the sole Vulcan who stood patiently waiting for recognition.

"You were not to return for another 5.425 days, my friend," the newly appointed ambassador said as Soran inclined his head.

"That is true," the aide replied as he removed his outer cloak, the black folds of which naturally overlapped, indicative of the severe cut of Vulcan desert wear.  "I was informed that a long range shuttle was preparing to depart for Earth, and with my wife's approval, I took my leave of her and our son.  Much has happened in the interim since my departure."

"Indeed," Sarek agreed.  Clearly, he understood his friend's tacit request for details.  "We have much to discuss."

"Indeed," Soran answered, his manner perceptive.  "May I inquire about your choice of attire this evening, my friend?  Your robe is not one I have seen before."

"You are correct," Sarek conceded.  His father had gifted the robe to him years earlier at the behest of his grandfather, Solkar.  Sarek could not logically explain his reticence in wearing it, except for the knowledge that his grandfather had favored the robe, which had been custom-made and skilfully hand stitched.  Sarek could clearly remember Solkar arriving at their house when he was but a child, the dark blue hem of the robe swirling around him as he walked.  Although it was likely the notable bearing of his grandfather, it had been impressed upon him that the robe, despite its presence in his wardrobe, had somehow not belonged to him.

"It is of a line and pattern favored by the elders," Soran said, a glimmer of humor light in his dark eyes.

"That is quite true," Sarek agreed with a lift of his chin.  "Perhaps the visual reminder shall add weight and maturity to my words."

"There is no need for such, as you have earned your position," Soran said with sincere deference.  Sarek inclined his head at the courteous statement.     

The reception hall was filling rapidly with diplomats and invited guests, the rise and fall of numerous conversations occasionally interspersed with the hollow sounds of compulsory laughter.  The strained atmosphere was emphasized by the heightened security measures than had been imposed, along with the whispered gossip of why Ambassador Skon had stepped down in favor of his son.  The Vulcan explanation that Sarek was capable of dealing with the ever-changing Federation diplomatic landscape better than Skon didn't quell the stream of rumors, not all of which put the son in a positive light. 

"Your wife and child are in good health, I trust?" Sarek asked as he gazed toward the front entrance. 

Soran noted the glance as he nodded. "They are," Soran said as he wondered at his friend's slightly tense deportment.  "T'Sar has recovered well from childbirth, and Sulon's medical reports have all been favorable."

"Excellent, my friend," Sarek responded as he forced his attention away from the entryway.  Soran didn't miss the effort.

"Are you waiting for someone?" he queried, though the answer seemed obvious.

"I have invited Amanda to attend as my escort this evening," Sarek stated.  His friend's left eyebrow rose precipitously as he blinked in surprise.

"Amanda?  Then, you have met?"

"We have," Sarek agreed as he heard one of the human diplomats near him slowly whistle in an apparently understood expression of appreciation as the others, all male, turned to face the entryway.

"Where has she been hiding all my life?" the whistler asked to no one in particular as Sarek and Soran joined those who observed a stunning young woman enter the reception hall.  It took Sarek a moment to realize who the woman was.

"Time for an introduction," another of the young men said as he stepped toward the entry.

"Unnecessary," the newly appointed ambassador said as he swept past the flabbergasted man.  "She is not with you."  Soran tried, and failed, to recall a time when Sarek had ever sounded quite so brusque.

The aide apologetically inclined his head toward the men as he swiftly pursued Sarek.  It would be wise to remind his friend of the human civilities that were expected, especially when his position demanded sensitivity toward a richly varied populace.  Soran respectfully followed after Sarek as they wove thought the groups congregated near the entry.  As his friend approached a young human dressed in a completely inappropriate outfit, Soran stopped.  This girl, for she was little more than that, was Amanda?  How was it possible that she had so poorly chosen her attire?  Sarek unrelentingly pushed onward, and within seconds, she spotted him in the crowd.  With a sense of disquiet, Soran observed the change in her features from neutrally pleasant to unconditional radiance.  He couldn't judge his friend's reaction to her warm smile due to his angle; however, it was plain that far more than he had ever anticipated had occurred since his leave taking. 

Amanda relaxed and smiled as Sarek appeared in the crowded reception area.  The ride to the embassy had been comfortable, if not a bit boring, since Sasep hadn't said a word to her.  She got the distinct impression that the Vulcan Security Chief wasn't pleased to be acting as her chauffeur.  Sarek looked splendid in his dark navy robe that swirled around him in gentle waves as he walked.  Another Vulcan male, tall and thin, was just behind Sarek and appeared to be with him.

"Sarek," Amanda said as she raised her hand into the ta'al.  "Nash-veh odu itaren."

"Nash-veh odu itaren po du?" Sarek replied, curious about Amanda's insistence on thanking him.  He noticed that their use of the Vulcan language had piqued the curiosity of several humans in a group near them.  Amanda also felt the inquisitive gazes of the group as she adjusted the scarf around her neck.

"I only wanted to say that I appreciate your invitation," she said, switching to Standard.

"There is no reason to thank me," Sarek insisted as he turned to introduce the Vulcan who now stood to his right.  "This is my aide and friend, Soran."

"Soran," Amanda repeated as she inclined her head.  "I am pleased to meet you."

Soran seemed to bow slightly as he took in the sight of the petite human.  "Your presence honors us."

"Please call me Amanda," the young woman asked as she again noticed the subtle way those nearby seemed to be observing her every move.

"As you wish," Soran replied respectfully.

"Let us adjourn to the main hall," Sarek resolutely said as he turned and began to carefully weave through the crowd.  For a brief moment, Amanda was terribly hurt by his seeming indifference to her appearance.  She could only hope that it was the lack of privacy that discouraged his comments as they entered the hall.

Rows of tables were laden with lavishly ornate place settings as tantalizing aromas mixed with the conversations of the hundreds who were already seated in the candlelit hall.  A string quartet was playing softly in the background and the ambiance was that of a 5-star restaurant.  As the numerous diplomats and guests entered, they were directed to their tables by a courteous wait staff.  An errant thought about staying out of trouble amused her as she followed Sarek toward their table.  If her luck held, she needn't worry about the first time she'd been in the Terran Embassy at a function.  The likelihood of slipping out of her chair and hitting the floor with her rump twice in the same location was… she bit her lip.  Well, she'd have to ask Sarek what the odds were.

They had traversed the aisle way and were now near a section of tables that had been reserved for the Vulcans.  Amanda recognized Skon immediately as the elder Vulcan stood.

"Amanda, it is most pleasing that you join us this evening," he said with a hospitable bow of his head.  "Allow me to introduce those at our table, starting with my wife, T'Lara."

"I am most honored to meet you, T'sai," Amanda said with great respect as she lowered her head.  The younger woman couldn't remember ever meeting someone so exotically beautiful in her life.  T'Lara had an almost mesmerizing presence with her dark eyes and carefully coiffed ebony hair, and while she was no more than a few centimeters taller than Amanda, she seemed to tower over her as she stood.

"Your attendance was requested by my eldest son," T'Lara noncommittally said, her tone cold.  Amanda started imperceptibly.  The implied affront was such that she cut her eyes to Sarek, who was gazing impassively at his mother.

"Yes, I did invite Amanda," Sarek stated, his tone calm.

"You insult us by wearing that," the Vulcan woman added as Amanda, now shaken, pleaded with her eyes for Sarek to do something.

"Was there some fault with the sent robes, Amanda?" Skon asked before Sarek could speak.

"The clothes were made of material that was too heavy for me to wear.  Honestly, I could barely move in them, and I meant no offense," Amanda softly explained as she steeled herself for a reprimand.

"I understand," Skon said, again before anyone else could interrupt.  "But, why did you choose your current attire?  It is most… unusual."

Amanda was now thoroughly confused.  "I apologize if the color or design of the dress is insulting or inappropriate," she said as she held the gaze of Sarek's father.  "I truly don't know why the dress is a problem."

"Such attire, while apparently suitable for humans, would not be worn in public on Vulcan," T'Lara coolly insisted as she stared with intense distaste at the girl.  "It was my understanding that you understood our ways."

"We're not on Vulcan, T'sai," Amanda reminded the woman as she tried to keep her temper under control.  "Nor was I told that there was a dress code that forbade Terran clothing.  Others in the hall are wearing gowns and dresses of a similar cut and style.  In fact, there are some outfits that are far more revealing and 'human' than my dress."  She would have continued, but Skon raised his hand, and Amanda immediately swallowed back her verbal tirade and grimly pursed her lips together.

"You meant no offense, and none has been taken," the elder Vulcan said.  Amanda swore that she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he motioned for her to sit.  "You are correct in that your dress is of a human design and is pleasing to your form.  There will be no further discussion about it."

Amanda didn't want the dialogue to end so abruptly, but the others at the table took their seats, so there was no chance for additional enlightenment.  All she knew was that she'd made some sort of rather serious blunder with her clothing selection.  As she sank into her chair, a soft voice carried over the murmured buzz of conversations around her.

"Greetings, my friend."

"T'Spia," Amanda said, breathing out in relief as she turned to the Vulcan next to her.  "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Indeed," the Vulcan woman said as her eyes narrowed slightly.  Amanda grimaced as she checked to see if Skon was looking in her direction.  Since he wasn't, she leaned toward her friend.

"All right, tell me," the girl whispered.  "What did I do wrong?"

"Do you remember our conversation about attire?" T'Spia asked as she also lowered her voice.  Sarek would be seated across from them, but was currently involved in a discussion with several Terran diplomats who wished to discuss an upcoming meeting.

"Yes," Amanda adamantly declared.  "That's why I don't understand the problem."

"There was not time to discuss every nuance of dress," the Vulcan divulged as she gazed down at her own dark burgundy gown.  "While the color of your gown is not too extreme, the luminous sheen of your bodice, and your accessories are rather..."

"What?" Amanda queried.  "Quick, tell me.  They're getting ready to start."

"The silver, it is reminiscent of wedding items," T'Spia reluctantly said.  "And with the knowledge that T'Lara disapproves of her son marrying a human."

"Oh," Amanda said as she winced and covered her clutch with the edge of the tablecloth.  T'Lara must believe that she chose the gown and the silver objects as a reminder of the Skon's bonding agreement and that Amanda was pompously showing off.  What a disaster!

"Amanda, I do not believe it is of great consequence," the Vulcan said as the wait staff began to serve dinner.  "Skon has taken no offence, and you did not know."

"But I should have," the girl sighed.  Amanda now understood the glacial looks she had received from some of those at the table.  She couldn't help but wonder if she was ever going to overcome T'Lara's conviction that she was nothing more than a wretched nuisance. 

The banquet was actually quite well orchestrated, with servers practically falling over themselves to ensure that everyone present was attended to.  Amanda noted with interest the differences between the first dinner she'd attended and the current one.  There would be no buffet style this time.  The finely arranged foods on delicate china plates were brought to the tables with expert alacrity, the array of items a mix of Vulcan and Terran specialties.  Silently the Vulcans began to eat, and Amanda was secretly pleased that the tables of humans around them were more subdued than they had been in the past.  It was possible that the cultural attachés had actually done their job.

The lack of conversation due to Vulcan etiquette did allow Amanda time to reflect.  She couldn't really get upset with T'Spia for not telling her everything about Vulcan attire.  Perhaps it hadn't been wise to not wear the Vulcan robes, but how could she be expected to know every tiny distinction and manner of propriety involved with clothing?  Amanda could even understand T'Lara's reaction to some degree.  The Vulcan woman didn't want her son to marry a human, especially one who seemed so ignorant of Vulcan ways.  Trying to put herself in the other woman's place seemed to help.  How would she react if Matty or Danny had decided to marry someone who was essentially an alien?  How would her parents have reacted?  How would they react.  Blinking, Amanda realized that Sarek's family dynamic might be much closer to hers than she realized.  Like T'Lara, Maura would have been outraged by the prospect, while John would have been more understanding in the same manner of Skon.  That was just their personalities.  Glancing occasionally in Sarek's direction, she again wondered about him.  Why had he invited her, only to ignore her?  He was only across the table from her, but he seemed light years away as he efficiently ate the presented repast.  Unconscious of her action, Amanda cut her foods in half and nibbled at the part she'd allow herself.  She found that she didn't have much of an appetite.

As the banquet ended, those present were escorted to another area of the reception hall that had been partitioned off the main dining area.  The separate section was filled with round tables and low set chairs that faced an elevated lectern.  While the audience filtered in, Amanda followed those who had been at her table.  T'Spia suddenly stopped and nodded toward a table that was one away from Skon, T'Lara and Sarek.

"We shall sit here," the Vulcan said as she gestured toward a chair.

"But why here?" Amanda stammered as she watched Sarek take his seat at the table near the lectern.  He wasn't even looking in her direction, and that troubled her.

"The Terran Ambassador Agani will begin the proceedings, followed by Skon as the outgoing Ambassador," T'Spia explained as she again motioned for her friend to sit.  "Sarek will provide the closing speech."

"Why can't I sit by Sarek, though?  I'm his escort."  Amanda noticed the almost frustrated look in her friend's eyes as she sat down next to her.

"An escort is not a bondsmate or wife, Amanda," T'Spia replied.  "You must not take offense.  The concept of 'a date' is unknown to Vulcans."

"I'm well aware of that," the human said as she forced her resentment at the inadvertent disrespect to ebb.  "If you say this is proper, then I won't argue."

"That is a welcome change from the norm," T'Spia said lightly, and Amanda sighed in mock exasperation.

"I come to serve," the human flippantly said, which garnered her a curious look from Soran, who was also at their table.

"You are familiar with the Vulcan expression?" he asked as Amanda smiled. 

"I have heard it frequently used by Vulcans," she granted as the slender aide nodded.  "Your cloak is quite interesting, Soran," she said as she gestured toward his black wrap that hung lightly on his shoulder blades.  "Please don't be offended, but it appears to be of a different cut than that of the other Vulcans present."

"You are correct," Soran replied as he adjusted the garment.  "My Clan and Family originate from a more barren, desert location than that of most others at the embassy."

"How did you meet Sarek?" Amanda asked, genuinely interested.  "He said that you were his friend in addition to being his aide."

"We met when we were but children," the aide supplied.  "Our Families thought it would be beneficial for us to train together for our maturity test.  In the majority of cases, the parents teach the children in the ancient ways; however, due to Skon's erratic schedule and times off-planet, it was thought best to augment Sarek's instruction with that of a desert native.  Are you familiar with the maturity test I speak of?"

"Yes," Amanda said as she recalled some of the details of the kahs-wan she'd read about during her time in the embassy course.

"Sarek was of the city of ShiKahr, while I was desert born.  After six months of training, we passed on our first attempt."  Soran raised an eyebrow as he continued.  "It was an arduous crossing, but such adversity is welcome if the ensuing victory strengthens the traveler."

"I'm certain that the sharing of your desert knowledge was most appreciated by Sarek," Amanda said as she considered the fear-provoking image of seven-year-old children alone in a desert with only basic supplies and their wits to keep them alive.

"Such sharing is but logical, Amanda," the aide replied.  "I could do no less."

"Of course," the young woman answered softly.  That, she decided, was what she liked best about Vulcans.  Selfishness was relatively unknown, and if the cause were sufficient, they would act without hesitation.  While humans questioned motives, Vulcans simply did what was necessary.

The official start of the speeches and accolades had begun, and Amanda sat back and listened intently as Ambassador Agani generously praised Skon for his accomplishments as the Vulcan ambassador to Earth.  It was interesting to her to see the differing reactions of the assemblage as Agani was warmly received, Skon was respectfully greeted, and Sarek was only civilly applauded.  Amanda knew she was probably reading too much into the volume of the ovation each had received, but she couldn't help but wonder if Sarek's lukewarm reception was a foreshadowing of things to come.

The banquet area had been transformed in their absence into a ballroom, the now cleared floor beckoning those who wished to dance.  The string quartet had become a larger grouping in the interim that included woodwinds, and couples were already being drawn to the floor as a sprightly waltz played.  Amanda had lost sight of Sarek as the throng of diplomats and guests reentered the hall.  With a resigned sigh, she wondered why she had even bothered to look.  He didn't seem to want to be with her, anyway.

"Amanda!"

The shout startled her even as someone grabbed her arm from behind.  Twirling around, she was suddenly face to face with Ambassador Agani who was widely grinning.

"I thought it was you," the stately woman said as she hugged Amanda tightly.  "You look gorgeous!"

"Thank you," the young woman replied as she noticed Chen Li making her way over to them.  "It's good to see you again."

"It has been awhile, hasn't it?" the ambassador said as she waved at some passing dignitaries.  "How are your classes?  This is your second year, isn't it?"

"Yes, this is my second year," Amanda agreed as Li joined them.

"Long time, no see," the petite woman said with a laugh as she warmly hugged the young woman.  "How is your father?"

"Much better," Amanda said, although her expression saddened.  "He's in a rehabilitation clinic in Calais."

Li's expression also sobered as she slightly grimaced.  "The entire incident has been horrible.  It's good that he survived and is improving."

"Yes," the young woman said, although the thought of her family brought pangs of guilt as she considered the festive atmosphere she was in the midst of.

"Pardon me."

The three women turned to the person who had addressed them.  The man, smartly dressed and quite handsome, smiled as he caught Amanda's eyes with his. 

"Would you like to dance?"

"She'd love to," Li said as she nearly pushed the stunned young woman onto the floor.  Amanda immediately returned to her spot as she decisively shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't," she sweetly said as she smiled up at the man.  "I'm here with someone."

As the man shrugged his understanding and walked away, Li and Agani nailed Amanda with a look.

"Here with someone?" Li queried as she cut her eyes around the crowded periphery of the dance floor.  "Who?"

Biting her lip, Amanda hesitated.  "Well…" she slowly began, but stopped as another young man approached.

"May I have this dance?" he asked politely even as Amanda bashfully shook her head.

"I'm with someone," she explained as the second man grimaced, and then walked away as he spotted another potential dance partner.

"Who?" Li hissed as she comically glared at Amanda.  Another man had started to approach them, but was stopped by the first young man she had turned down.

"Why do so many people want to dance with me?" she asked naively.

Li and Agani both chuckled at the question.  "Have you looked in the mirror lately?  You're absolutely dazzling in that gown," Agani insisted as she wondered at the girl's fallen expression.  

"Dazzling is the last thing I want to be," Amanda morosely said as the two older women exchanged confused looks.

"I don't understand," Li said as she observed the crestfallen expression settle on Amanda's features.  "If I were you, I'd be dancing with your date and making the other women jealous of your gown."

"I'm not sure Vulcans dance," Amanda said, and then bit her lip when she realized what she'd said.  Agani and Li blinked in surprise as Li instantly put two and two together.

"Amanda, are you here with Sarek?" she asked as she sought out the newly named Ambassador in the crowd.  "After the fuss you made about Skon's bonding plan?  Is it true?"

"I'm here, but I'm not sure why," the younger woman slowly replied as she also scanned the faces around her with growing consternation.  She was suddenly very tired of the lack of direction and complete disregard she felt had been shown to her.  Why couldn't Sarek at least talk with her?  Tell her what was expected?

"Were you invited by Sarek?" Agani asked, her expression tight.  Amanda could hear the disapproval, and a feeling of defiance began to overtake her as she locked eyes with the ambassador.

"I was invited by him, but only as an escort.  We're not here in any other capacity," Amanda said as she nearly grimaced at the implications she'd just voiced.

"I can't believe that he'd invite you this evening," Agani firmly stated as she shook her head.  "Now isn't the time for such nonsense."

"Nonsense?" Amanda exclaimed.  "Why would you say that?"

"Tensions have only escalated between Earth and Vulcan in recent days," the Ambassador replied as she drew her lips into a thin line.  "Have you seen the newsvids lately?  Most of the coverage has been open speculation about the bioweapon capabilities of Vulcan and what they're hiding.  It's all ridiculous, really, but it's that type of atmosphere that isn't conducive to the idea of interspecies dating."

"We're not on a date," the young woman insisted as she took in a deep breath.  "Actually, as far as Sarek is concerned, we're barely in the same room."

"That may be for the best," Agani said even as she noticed the narrowing of Amanda's eyes.  "I'm not prejudiced toward this, Amanda, but now isn't the time for it."

"And when will the time be right?" the young woman queried as she felt her anger building.

"Amanda, isn't it possible that Sarek only invited you as a guest?" Li asked, hoping to diffuse the disagreement before it spiraled out of control.  "Perhaps you read too much into his invitation."

"No," Amanda decisively stated.  "He invited me as his escort."  Actually, she thought, he might have agreed to call it a date if she hadn't been so stubbornly deaf to what he'd implied.

"Then, where is he?" Li inquired as her expression lightened in hopes that the apprehension level would drop.

"That's what I'm going to find out," the young woman sternly said as she spun on her heel and stormed away.  The two diplomats watched a path open before her as those wise enough to know better got out of her way.

"Someone's in big trouble," Li said with a glimmer of humor in her tone.

"Yes," Agani agreed as she shook her head.  "Can you believe it?  Amanda and Sarek?  From what I know of them, they're as different as night and day."

"It is a shock," Li admitted as she grinned.  "But if Amanda doesn't calm down before she finds Sarek, I'm afraid that the tensions you mentioned will go from verbal volleys to physical assault."

"She wouldn't, would she?" Agani said as she lost track of the girl in the crowded ballroom.

"I'd like to believe that she wouldn't," Li slowly said as a thought made her grin even wider.  "Have you ever seen the vid 'War of the Worlds'?"

"No," Agani admitted, puzzled.

"It's the old 'aliens invade the Earth' story line.  Let's just say that it ends very poorly for the aliens," the petite woman said over her shoulder as she walked toward the open bar.  Agani shook her head as she followed.

Amanda knew deep down that it would be best for her to seek out T'Spia first to get an explanation for Sarek's behavior.  Or, maybe she should speak with Soran.  She knew she should, but she didn't care as she weaved around another immovable group near the dance floor.  No, she wanted Sarek to explain why he was acting like a reprehensible jerk.  Inviting her to the banquet, only to act as if she was invisible.  No, he wasn't going to be allowed to do that.  Her fury was fueled by her mounting indignation the more she thought about Sarek's lack of consideration.  He'd done absolutely nothing for her except meet her at the door.  He hadn't defended her when T'Lara derided her gown; he'd said nothing to her about not sitting with him.  How was she supposed to know what to do, through osmosis?  As she absently noted that the small orchestra was playing a contemporary romantic arrangement from a popular vid, she slowed in order to allow a group of people to reach the dance floor.  That was another thing, she thought as she added another black mark to Sarek's growing list of faults.  She strongly believed that he had no intention of dancing with her.  Maybe she should have accepted the invitations of those who had asked.  Maybe she would dance with the next person who asked.  The hell with him… the hell with all of this. 

Near the back of the reception hall, she spied the small diplomatic grouping of Vulcan and human delegates and guests who must be congratulating Sarek.  Making her way toward them, she gritted her teeth as she forced herself to calm down.  First, she'd politely ask to speak with Sarek alone.  Then, she'd let him have it.

"…you do understand our concerns?" a portly man was asking Sarek as she joined the cluster of persons standing in an informal circle with the new ambassador as the focal point.

"I cannot say that I understand your statement, sir," Sarek assiduously replied.  Amanda frowned as she wondered what was going on.  The large human seemed most upset about something.

"The increasing presence of off-worlders on our planet is causing a loss of our core beliefs and threatens our very livelihoods, perhaps even the very existence of human life," the man said as he pounded his left fist into his open hand. 

"Your statement is rather fanatical, don't you think?" Ellis Hamm said.  Amanda recalled that he was a senior diplomat, but had been on medical leave for quite some time due to a serious illness.

"It's not fanaticism to want to protect your world," the man insisted as his pudgy jowls shook and he turned his attention to the crowd.  "Haven't you considered the fact that these beings aren't even of this solar system?  It's like Culberry wrote twenty years ago...Vulcans aren't of God; therefore, they're evil and will burn forever in the blazing fires of hell."

Amanda gasped slightly even as others in the circle uncomfortably shifted at the vicious slur. 

Sarek only raised an eyebrow at the man's religious furor. "I am familiar with the concept of purgatory based upon my past studies of Earth religions," Sarek said, his tone even.  "Is it your contention that Vulcans would be present in your Earthly hell?"

The man opened, and then tightly clenched his jaw shut, as he realized his mistake.  "I'm only saying that you and your kind should be in your hell," he weakly mumbled.

"Where, exactly, is this hell that you speak of?" the Vulcan asked as several humans around him nervously tittered.

"I believe it's just south of Vulcan," Amanda alleged lightly as she joined the conversation.  The sporadic snickers increased to genuine laughs as the fanatic fiercely sneered at her and walked away, followed by several of his friends. 

Sarek impassively watched as she followed the man for several seconds with her eyes, and then turned her attention to him. "I would contend that you are not correct in your assertion of the location of hell," Sarek said as he noted a perceptible shift in Amanda's manner.

"I would contend that you may find out more about hell than you want," she contended as her tone cooled.  "I need to speak with you in private."

"I cannot leave the reception area at this time," he stated smoothly.

"I'm leaving, then," Amanda serenely told him as she whirled around and began to make her way toward the front entrance.  "Why you invited me at all is a mystery."

She was so livid at his lack of consideration that she failed to notice that four human males were following her.  It wasn't until one of them reached out and grabbed her arm that she realized, too late, that she was in trouble.

"Hey," the man loudly slurred as she tried to pull away.  "I wanna dance."

"Let go of me," Amanda said as she fearfully searched the surrounding crowd for a security officer. 

"Not until you dance with me," he insisted, his face close enough to her that she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Come on, Cline, let her go," one of the men who was apparently friends with the man said.

"I wanna dance," the man identified as Cline insisted, and suddenly he began to forcefully pull Amanda toward the dance floor.

"Stop!" she cried out.  Gratefully, she spotted several uniformed security officers heading toward the scuffle.  The man had also seen the officers, and began to drag her in the opposite direction.  Without warning, Cline came to a dead stop and Amanda, who had been trying desperately to release the grip of the man's hand on her arm, looked up.

"Release her arm," Sarek softly said, his voice so low that Amanda barely heard him.

"Butt out, Vulcan," Cline fiercely said as he again began to backtrack toward the security forces that were now surrounding him.  "This ain't none of your business."

"Please let me go," Amanda said in a similarly soft tone, but her mannerism only served to agitate the man.

"I'm gonna dance with you first," Cline yelled as he tightened his grip on the young woman's arm.  Amanda was now facing the inebriated man, and could just see Sarek behind him.  Without warning, long, slender fingers curled around Cline's shoulder blade and he gasped.  As the drunk man's eyes rolled back into his head, he slumped into an unconscious pile at Amanda's feet.  Too stunned to move, she looked up at Sarek, who merely raised his left eyebrow.

"What did you do to him," she whispered.

"He is merely unconscious," the Vulcan said as the security officers moved in to check the man.

"He passed out," one of the officers offered as a rational explanation for Cline's current state.  While others nodded their acceptance of the officer's assessment, Amanda continued to stare in shock at Sarek.  She knew the truth even as she glimpsed Skon and T'Lara out of the corner of her eye.

Skon had seen the incident, and while he sensed T'Lara's strong urging for him to intercede on their son's behalf, he remained still.  This wasn't his fight, and he was curious to see how Sarek would handle the situation.

Amanda continued to stare, unblinking, at Sarek as they faced each other, Cline still on the floor between them.  Glancing down, Sarek slowly raised his dark hazel eyes to hers and held out his right hand, palm up.

"I have been most egregious in not acting as the proper escort," he stated for her ears only.  "Shall we dance?"

Blinking in surprise, the corners of Amanda's mouth slowly curled up into a smile as she extended her right arm and took his hand, instantaneously overlooking her earlier decision to leave.  Instead of going around the body on the floor, Amanda reached down and, with daring audacity, took the hemline of her dress with her left hand and stepped directly over Cline, the heel of her shoe just grazing the man's arm.  As they moved forward amid the cacophonic mix of approval, confusion, and low murmurs, Sarek glanced down at the human on his arm.  The orchestra had begun to play a slow waltz.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

"No," she admitted quietly.  "Bruised a bit, but I'm fine.  Thank you for whatever you did."

"It is a Vulcan skill used in self-defense," Sarek confirmed.

"Boy, could I have used that growing up with my brothers," Amanda said with a chuckle.

"You are not afraid?" he asked.  Amanda thoughtfully mulled over his question as she intuitively recognized that the question wasn't just about the rendering of a drunk unconscious with a touch.

"I'm not afraid of anything," she finally concluded as she beamed up at him, blue eyes sparkling. 

"I see," he murmured as he observed the pink flush that brightened her cheeks as he held her gaze.  "Not even of insolent drunkards?"

"No," she softly said, "not if you're around."  As if embarrassed by her words, she ducked her head, abruptly inhibited by the attention she felt being directed toward them from the crowd.  "Maybe you can teach me that self-defense skill."

"Humans cannot learn it," he replied, his sonorous voice somehow indicating his amusement at her request.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he insisted.

"Oh, well," she sighed.  "I guess I'll just have to keep you nearby."

"Indeed," he said.  "I would highly recommend that course of action."

She noticed the lights of several vid cameras were following them even as Sarek nodded slightly at the intrusion.  They were close to the middle of the floor, and as she moved toward him, a sudden thought occurred.

"You do know how to dance, I assume?" she asked.

"I do, in theory."

"What?" she gasped out.  They were the center of attention now, and she could only hope that, by some miracle, Sarek was joking with her.

"I have studied the correct dance steps required for several melodic arrangements and understand the general principles," he explained.

"Oh, super," Amanda mumbled, "Maybe once we start to dance, others will join us and mistakes won't be noticed.  Just don't step on my feet, please?"

"I will not," he promised, and after an awkward moment in which Amanda nearly broke down laughing when it dawned on Sarek that he had to put his hand around her waist, the couple began the simple steps necessary for the waltz.

"Are you familiar with the composer of this music?" Sarek asked as several other couples moved onto the floor.

"No," she admitted.  "Oh, you're doing quite well for the first time, by the way."

"May I presume that this is not your first time?" he asked.  It was likely an innocent question, but Amanda didn't sense that Sarek was quite so innocuous as he appeared and she shot him a hard look.

"I've danced before, if that's what you're asking," she glibly replied.  The floor was now quite crowded with couples, and Amanda noticed a young man approaching them.

"Pardon me," the man said, smiling courteously at both Sarek and Amanda.  "May I cut in?"

Sarek raised an eyebrow as he looked to Amanda for an explanation. 

"He wants to dance with me," she offered as a way of explanation.  "It's customary."

"No."

"No?" the young man repeated as he blinked in surprise.

"New custom," Amanda quickly supplied as they moved away from the spurned man.  "Sarek, what are you doing?" she whispered under her breath.  "Are you trying to start another fight?"

"I see no logic in the custom, nor do I wish another to dance with you; therefore, I said no."  He held her gaze for a moment, and then she sighed dramatically.

"Logical," she murmured.  "Of course.  It all comes down to logic."

As he observed the unexpectedly easy rapport exhibited between his son and Amanda on the dance floor, Skon could hear and see the increasingly querulous murmurs and icy glances directed toward them.  One group of humans in particular seemed rather surly, led by a portly gentleman who huffily pointed out the young couple as they gracefully passed him.  T'Lara was standing next to her husband in motionless disapproval as the couple's sole possession of the floor ended, and numerous others moved forward to dance.  With a succinct glance, Skon ended the silence.

"I was not aware that our son knew how to dance," he simply said as he sensed the tension kept at bay by his wife's still manner.

"Skon," she quietly said as she unrelentingly stared at the dancers, "in this uncertain atmosphere, is it wise to allow them to continue?"

"Sarek is the ambassador, my wife," the Vulcan replied as he followed the portly man's wild gesticulations out of the corner of his eye.  "He is capable of taking care of himself."

"And what of Amanda?" T'Lara asked.  As she observed the sharp ascent of Skon's right eyebrow, she gazed back to the dance floor.  "It is surprising to you that I am concerned about her welfare?"

"It is," he conceded as the waltz ended.  A smattering of applause was directed toward the instrumentalists before they began another selection.  "You have been critical of her even before you were introduced this evening."

"She is young and not educated sufficiently in our ways," the woman maintained as several of the dancers exited the floor.  "I would not want harm to befall her.  Perhaps I have allowed emotions to shadow my conduct.  That I shall meditate on; however, we are contemplating the future of our son.  I want only the best for him."

"That is the desire of any parent," Skon gently reminded her as he spotted his son in the crowd with Amanda still next to him.  "I will inform our son that an expeditious end to this evening might be beneficial.  I sensed a certain discordant quality in the dance spectators that could prove problematical."

"Is it not his dilemma now, adun?" T'Lara asked, reminding her husband of his remarks about Sarek's capabilities.

"It is; however, he is our son."  Skon strode forward purposefully as T'Lara followed. 

"I find that line of reasoning illogical," Sarek was saying as his parents joined the disparate group of humans and Vulcans that stood near the orchestra stage.

"It is not logic, but emotion, that drives humans," a dignified man with a slight sneer retorted as he glared at Amanda.  "You understand that, don't you?"

"I do," Amanda agreed even as she wondered if she dared say more.  "However, logic is not the sole domain of Vulcans, just as emotions are not the exclusive providence of humans."

"That's quite well said, child," a churlish voice said as the portly man stepped forward to confront Amanda.  "You've certainly memorized your lines for this event, haven't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Amanda demanded as the man condescendingly smiled.  "I haven't memorized anything.  I."  She stopped as a lightning bolt of recognition struck her.  "Don't I know you?  Didn't you attend the Vulcan Embassy course for several months before dropping out?"

"I learned all that I needed to from those beings," the man confirmed as he angrily looked in Sarek's direction.  "They're evil, and they have brainwashed you."

"That's crazy!"  Amanda chuckled at the absurdity of the statement, but quickly found that she was one of only a few who thought the man was a lunatic.  Most of the other humans in the group were silently waiting to see what the man said next.

"If you haven't been brainwashed, then why are you here with one?"  The man's eyes glinted dangerously even in the dim light.  "It's all a colossal public relations stunt to prove that Vulcans and humans can get along.  Child, you're being used."

"You are incorrect," Sarek interceded as he saw the anger flashing over Amanda's features.  "There has been no tampering with anyone's mind, and I invited this young woman to this evening's event of my own volition."

"So, are you saying that you wish to enter into a relationship with her?  She's just a child!" The man turned to the crowd like a barker at a circus.  "See what will happen if we let it?  Look at this young, innocent girl!  These Vulcans are attempting to brainwash children into following their ways and marrying their kind!"

The crowd again shifted uncomfortably at the man's volatile words even as Amanda ferociously shook her head.  "You are completely wrong in your assessment of why I'm here," she loudly declared.  "You should be ashamed of yourself for trying to agitate the assembly with your lies."

"Lies?  I think not," the portly man said with a huff.  "How old are you, child?"

"That's enough," Agani demanded as she strode toward the man.  "I would like you to leave, sir."  Skon had just arrived on the periphery of the group, and slowed to allow the Terran ambassador to speak.

"Why?  Because I speak the truth?"  The man would have continued, but three burly security officers surrounded him, and he raised both eyebrows in a knowing fashion.  "Think about this, my human friends," the man yelled as he was led away.  "Think about the truth!"

An awkward silence surrounded those nearest the dispute as the Terran Ambassador quickly assessed the situation.  "Let's get as many people on the dance floor as we can," she asked solicitously even as her staff heard the order in her tone.  A somewhat forced smile brightened her face.  "The embassy is paying a fortune for this orchestra, so less talk, and more action!"

Several strained laughs followed her decree, and many of the couples nearest to the dispute took her advice.  As the orchestra began to play an energetic tango, Agani pursed her lips and approached Sarek. "I apologize, Ambassador, for that man's appalling actions.  He's not one of our diplomats, but was an invited guest.  He won't be back."

"You are not responsible for his actions," Sarek stated as he noted his parent's attendance along the group's edge. 

"No, but I wanted this to be a pleasant evening," the statuesque woman explained as she glared toward the exit.

"It has been a most agreeable evening," Sarek supplied as he glanced down at Amanda. 

Agani caught the fleeting look, and straightened in surprise. "That's good to hear," she said carefully as she grappled with what she thought she saw.  Was there an honest to goodness warm feeling there?  "Will you two be dancing again?  I'll keep security close by, if you wish."

Amanda laughed with a hint of acrimony at the offer while Sarek merely raised an eyebrow.  "No," he replied tersely.  "To avoid further rancor, we shall not dance."

As the Terran ambassador shrugged her apology and left, Amanda glared up at her escort.  "Why shouldn't we?" she asked tersely as she discerned the imposing figures of Skon and T'Lara approaching.  "You should ask before you answer for me."

"It is done," Sarek replied as he turned to greet his parents.  Amanda's harrumph caused him to turn back to her. "Is there a problem?" he inoffensively asked as her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, there is," she said heatedly as she crossed her arms.  "You're letting ignorance win by refusing to dance with me."

"Amanda, that is not the case," Skon interjected as he moved to stand next to his son, T'Lara just behind him.  "There is a time and place for everything.  In this atmosphere of distrust, we must temper our actions to avoid unnecessary confrontations."

"But, by doing that, it seems that you're pusillanimous!" Amanda insisted even as she grinned rather rebelliously.  "I heard that word once, and believe it fits."

"Indeed?" Skon replied as he felt his wife's disapproval at his light tone.  "Amanda, it is not cowardly to analyze motivations.  By dancing with Sarek, do you believe that you will positively influence those who have a limited presumption of suitability?

A moment later, the young woman sighed.  "No, I suppose not," she reluctantly concluded.

"There will be time to correct the erroneous conclusions of those prejudiced few," Sarek resolutely said.  "Now it is time to gradually eradicate beliefs that damage relations."

"This is a dance," Amanda said, her tone faintly petulant as she frowned.

"Yes, it is," Sarek granted as he wondered at her obvious statement.  "There will be others."

"Then, I suppose it would be best if Sasep returned me to the resident hall," she softly said as she inclined her head and raised her hand into the ta'al.  "Dif-tor heh smusma Skon,T'Lara."

The couple matched the young woman's action as she deferentially nodded and gazed expectantly at Sarek.  He seemed momentarily taken aback by her decision to leave, but then imperceptibly straightened as he led the way through the crowd.  Skon and T'Lara briefly observed the couple pass by several groups before they lost sight of them.

"S'haile, may I speak with you?" Sennar asked as he unexpectedly appeared, his head bowed in respect.

"Of course, my friend," Skon replied.  Sennar had been keeping a low profile during the course of the evening, and Skon was genuinely curious as to the cause.

"I shall be back momentarily," T'Lara stated as she reached out and brushed her fingertips against the back of her husband's hand.  She gracefully walked away as his eyes followed her into the crowd.

"What is it, Sennar?" Skon asked as he brought his attention to bear on his friend.  Sennar shifted slightly, which spoke volumes to the former ambassador.  "Something is gravely wrong, is it not?"

"No, my friend," Sennar said with a slight shake of his head.  "I must only ask a question."

"Very well."  Skon waited for a moment as he watched the Vulcan before him again exhibit signs of disquiet. 

Finally, Sennar raised his head. "I am curious as to why Amanda is here this evening," he calmly asked.  "Did John Grayson's wife not repay the tuition?"

Skon tilted his head as he considered the odd question.  "Why would his wife be the one to repay me?  Did she contact the embassy?"

"No," Sennar insisted as he glanced over the others shoulder. 

Skon didn't miss the gesture, and sharply followed the line of sight of his aide in time to see T'Von, one of his House members who had been at the meeting with Amanda.  As she quickly turned away, the former ambassador caught and held the nervous gaze of his aide. "Why are you asking about the tuition?" Skon slowly queried as he unblinkingly stared at his friend. 

Sennar raised his chin as his right eyebrow shot up. "The girl's eighteenth birthday is but four days away," Sennar tranquilly replied.  "I merely wondered if the Grayson's had contacted you."

"I have not been contacted," Skon said, answering the question.  "It is a private matter that I must insist not be discussed with any others, even those at the embassy that are within my House."

Skon immediately noted the slight widening of the other's eyes.  So, Sennar had been talking with T'Von about the tuition.  Why had they believed that it had been repaid?

"My humble apologies, S'haile," Sennar quietly offered as he nodded.  "I shall attend to my duties."

Nodding, Skon observed the calm mannerisms as his friend disappeared into the crowd.  "Most interesting," Skon said, his general evaluation voiced only for his own edification.

Sarek paused at the entryway to send a comm message to Sasep to retrieve the flitter.  Amanda quietly adjusted the scarf around her neck again.  It was beginning to irritate her in that it itched just enough to be uncomfortable, and the necklace kept getting tangled in the sheer material. 

"It is not compulsory for you to leave at this time," Sarek said.

"I know," Amanda responded as she again felt the eyes of a group of humans on her.  "I'd like to leave before another confrontation occurs.  Your father is right.  Now isn't the time to add fuel to the fire."

"I do not understand," he said as he noted with some vexation that Sasep had already arrived.  The Security Chief was competent to a fault.

"My presence here is only aggravating those who are against us being together as a couple," Amanda clarified as she also saw the vehicle pulled to the curb.  "He's fast, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is quite efficient," Sarek murmured as they left the reception foyer and entered the illuminated portico area. 

"Sarek." Amanda hesitantly said, but then stopped.  She wasn't sure what to say as the flitter door slid open.  "Sarek, I have a question," she finally said, grasping at a reason to stall her departure.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I don't understand something," she said as she noted with satisfaction that Sasep had closed the door to allow them some privacy.  "Are you now the ambassador?  Agani addressed you as such, but there wasn't an official announcement."

"The decision was made by the Vulcan High council that I take the position," he answered, silently wondering why he was attempting to prolong his explanation.  "There is no reason for an elaboration on their logic, nor is a separate event essential to inform those affected by the change."

"I see," Amanda said as she smiled.  "So, this is your unofficial investiture celebration."

"One could make that assumption," he said as the flitter door again slid open.  Sasep was apparently ready to leave.

"Again, I congratulate you," Amanda said as she grimaced at the vehicle.  "It seems that I should be going."

"That was your choice," Sarek reminded her.  He observed her faltering resolve as her eyes went from the flitter to the entryway.  She stiffened as she saw something over his shoulder.  Turning, he could see the light of a vid camera pointed in their direction.

"I must go," Amanda said, her voice barely above a whisper.  Nervously, she raised her hand into the ta'al as Sarek mimicked her sudden formality. 

"It will not always be this way," he said quietly as he noted the distant look in her eyes.

"I have to go," she insisted,  "I don't want to cause any additional trouble."

"You are not causing trouble," Sarek maintained staunchly even as Amanda swiftly stepped into the flitter and the door closed.  Seconds later, Sarek could only stand by as the vehicle disappeared into the fog-shrouded night. 

A sense of confusion swirled within him at the less than satisfactory departure.  Thoughts of how abruptly she had left troubled him as he sought some logical reason for his dismay.  He strode past the swell of reporters without a word, even as their questions assaulted him.  It had not been his intention to force Amanda into the spotlight, but perhaps he had expected more tolerance and less attention expressed than had been exhibited.  A pang of unexpected guilt struck as he considered that he would be returning to the safe confines of the Vulcan Embassy while Amanda would be left with only the limited resources of the University to protect her.  Silently, he formulated a request for increased security for Amanda, if she would accept it.

Sarek paused at the entryway.  It was possible that he had shattered their fragile relationship beyond the point of repair.  The question now was to what extent would outside influences pull them in opposite directions.  The capricious thought of their brief time on the dance floor gave him a moment of fleeting optimism.  If only he could extend the affinity he'd felt for her then.

If only she felt the same way.