Title:
Resistance
Author: T'Sia
Series: Not Always
Cinnamon & Roses
Rating: PG
Summary: Rebellion in
Sarek's family.
Disclaimer:
Author's note: Many
thanks to beta-reader Selek and to Saidicam for the
comments during the writing process.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Spock heard the garden
gate fall shut. He put down the stylus, a slight feeling of embarrassment
rising in him upon discovering new teeth marks in the tool's surface. Sarek
would not be pleased, neither by the way his son treated his study materials,
nor about the fact that he had not completed his homework yet. But the niggling
thought didn't have the usual startling effect to it. The dark clouds that
covered the distant horizon over the desert also seemed to cast their dark
shadow over the fate of Spock's small world, consisting of his parents and his
brother. His brother. Spock didn't need to see him in
order to recognize the footfall of his older sibling coming down the hall.
Usually he would get up now to find out what Sybok had seen during his desert
travels that he had taken in these past few months, always observed by the eyes
of a younger boy who was hoping to be allowed to come along.
This time Spock
hesitated. Recently, he had been a secret witness of a com link discussion
between his father and the Council of Elders. The young boy had been startled
to hear that the topic of conversation was his older brother. It seemed Sarek
had repeatedly been made aware that Sybok was representing the family poorly by
encouraging other youths to explore their feelings. This behaviour could not be
tolerated. Yesterday, Sarek had been called again and left without informing
his wife or his younger son where he was going. But both of them knew. If the
Elders called for a meeting one didn't resist. Together they had sat by the
picture window that overlooked the desert behind the house, hoping to see the
elder boy return. But Sybok didn't come and neither did Sarek return, nor did
he call to give any indication about his estimated time of arrival.
Spock approached the door
to his room and laid a hand on the handle. The smooth surface was as cold as
the sensation creeping up his back. He knew he shouldn't allow the feeling to
spread but the sensation stubbornly refused to be controlled. He opened the
door and peered into the hall. Everything was silent except a low rustle from
his brother's room. He opened the door wider and stepped into the hall. The
rustling sound ceased for an instant and Spock knew Sybok had heard him. After
a few seconds, the rustling continued and Spock cautiously neared the door to
his brother's room. It stood open just a crack and Spock lightly brushed his
fingertips against the smooth surface.
"Please enter,
Spock-am."
Spock stepped back,
startled upon hearing the controlled but soft voice. Then he cautiously touched
the door again and pushed it open. Sybok stood with his back to him, carelessly
stuffing a few belongings into a travel bag. Spock's eyes grew wide when the
implicit explanation for this behavior struck him.
Sybok was leaving. But why? He had just returned and
now he wanted to go again? Where was he going? How long would he be away? The
questions bubbled up in Spock's mind until his thoughts swirled like a
whirlpool. He watched his brother who was clad in a dusty desert robe with the
wide hood still covering his head.
Spock remained rooted
silently by the door still pondering his unasked questions until Sybok finally
shut the closet and his travel bag. He remained in this position for some
seconds and then turned to fold back the hood which revealed disheveled brown hair and battered features. Spock couldn't
prevent a startled gasp escaping him when he took in the appearance of his
brother. Although not swollen anymore the area around Sybok's right eye was
covered with a dark bruise, no doubt caused by physical violence. Spock's gaze
traveled lower over the dried blood covering a bruise on Sybok's cheek bone
further down to the crack in the lower lip. At last he also noticed the dark
shadow of a beard. He had never seen his brother in such an unkempt state. Who
had harmed him and forced him to neglect himself so?
"What is it,
Spock?" Sybok asked, his mouth twitching in amusement about Spock's almost
bewildered expression.
"Who did this to
you?" Spock asked when he found his voice.
"Stanek,"
Sybok replied casually but didn't offer any more information.
Spock's eyes grew even
wider. But that was impossible. No Surakian Vulcan would harm another. But on
the other hand Spock had no doubt that Sybok was telling the truth. Sybok might
rightfully be accused of being too open minded towards exploring his emotions
but he was not a liar.
"You should report
this to the authorities, Sybok."
Sybok's eyes glinted with
humor and to Spock's astonishment his brother laughed
softly. That was unique. Spock had witnessed many hidden smiles on his
brother's face but he had never witnessed him laughing openly. Did Sarek know
of this recently-developed trait?
Sybok leaned his shoulder
against the closet and folded his arms in front of his chest, still grinning.
"Report it to the authorities? For what purpose? To turn myself in?"
Spock looked puzzled.
"I do not understand."
Sybok pursed his lips and
frowned when the crack in his lower lip oozed fresh blood. "Well, I was
the one who started the fight," he said and casually wiped the blood from
his mouth with one dirty sleeve.
Spock just stared at him,
one step close to bewilderment when he noticed the bruised and bloodied
knuckles on Sybok's hand that testified for the truth in his words. Those were
no characteristic defense wounds. He could not help
but wonder how the receiver of the blow had been affected by the attack and for
a brief instant he felt satisfaction by imagining Stanek's
bruised face. The young man was known well to him. It was him and his younger
brothers who often taunted Spock after school. To cover the momentary lapse of
control and the feeling of embarrassment about it, he asked a question.
"Why did you do that?" Before Sybok could answer, however, Spock saw
his brother's attention shifting to a point behind him. He had not noticed
anyone approaching them and jumped lightly when small human hands descended on
his shoulders.
He turned halfway and
looked into Amanda's sad face. "Please go to your room, Spock," she
advised him softly.
Spock opened his mouth to
protest but the calm yet intense gaze of his mother silenced him effectively.
"Yes, mother," he murmured, cast a last look at Sybok and left the
room.
Sybok watched him go and
still stared down the hall when Spock was out of sight, just to avoid having to
look at Amanda. When he turned back his gaze to her he again noticed how small
and fragile she looked. Once again he wondered where she drew that iron
strength from that enabled her to maintain her dignity despite the difficulties
her family had undergone throughout the years. With embarrassment he noticed
his eidetic memory presenting the exact number of cases when he had been the
reason for such a crisis - the number recently increased and reached its peak
with this present situation. He didn't lift his head but cautiously glanced up
at her. She was still standing in the doorframe, watching him with calm, sad
eyes.
"Come with me Sybok-kam," she said softly, her gaze tracing his features.
"Those wounds need treatment." She turned and walked away, not having
to look back to make sure he was following. Stopping in front of the bathroom
she motioned him inside. "Take a shower and come to the living room when
you have finished," she said and turned to leave with the same assuredness
of his obedience as before.
Like a scolded child
Sybok stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He caught his image in the
mirror and defiantly lifted his chin. Why did he obey? He was proud that he had
defied and conquered his opponents. His mirrored image didn't supply the answer
and cast its gaze down. Defeated and without further delay Sybok shrugged off
his clothing and took the requested shower.
Slipping on a robe after
he had finished he studied his face in the mirror again. He had not applied his
controls to accelerate the healing of the wounds. He decided to keep them for
they were a testimony to the changes going on inside him. The
more of them that was visible, the better. Lifting his hand he touched
his throat and cheeks to feel the stubble of the emerging beard. Most Vulcans
didn't wear a beard. It didn't serve any logical purpose. He reached for the shaver
but his hand hovered over the device without touching it. Again he met his gaze
in the mirror and his eyes seemed to dare him to erase the traces of his new
identity. He realized that he liked the beard and didn't feel ashamed about the
emotion. He had denied his true nature for too long already.
T'Rea had been right.
Emotions must be expressed. Suppressing them was unhealthy for body and mind.
He realized that after having finished his formal education and having been
forced to decide what he wanted his future to be. There was the choice between
denying his nature and suppressing his emotions or to be free and live his life
according to his own wishes without commitments to a planet and clan that had,
up to now, poured all its efforts into channeling his
spirit into artificial ducts; like a river being regulated to break its force.
His intellectual performance easily allowed him to choose among the finest
universities on Vulcan - even beyond. But was that the life he really wanted?
Something in him resisted the image of living his life according to someone
else's wishes. The clan expected him to use his talents in a logical way and
become a teacher and take his place among the scholars. Sarek might even
harbour the secret wish his son would follow in his footsteps and become a
diplomat. Sybok grimaced at the thought of a daily routine. Serve your planet,
serve your family, serve everyone but never yourself.
Live for the family, raise a family. He closed his eyes. No! He shook with the
intensity of rejection.
When he opened his eyes
his mirrored image stared at him with new found determination. He must do what
he must if he wanted his spirit to be spared the smothering cloak of social
duties and mores, even if it meant to leave this life and everything attached
to it behind...forever. With a hint of a start he realized that the first and
maybe hardest test to prove his determination lay ahead and, although dreading
the pain, there was no way to avoid it. Quickly he combed his hair, the action
distracting him from more disturbing thoughts that were bubbling to the surface
of his consciousness; thoughts of a younger brother left behind, thoughts of a
beloved father; he lowered his eyes in embarrassment only to snap his head up a
second later. Damn his training! There, it had betrayed him again! He was
embarrassed about the affection he felt for his father and Spock, embarrassed
about the guilt he experienced when imagining the hurt he was about to inflict
upon them. This society had already stigmatized him, made him feel guilty for
the most natural kind of emotion – to love and protect one's family. No more,
he promised himself and quickly finished combing his hair. Afterwards he left
the bathroom and went to the living room.
Amanda sat on
the couch, facing the window to the garden. Sybok stopped a moment to watch
her. The years had left traces on her delicate face but in her alienness she was as exotically beautiful as he remembered
her when he had entered this house for the first time. Although they had never
been close, a comfortable kind of affection had developed between them
throughout the years. She had never been able to fill the empty space in his
heart that belonged to his mother but she had been a valued companion through
all the years he had lived with her and Sarek. Although his
features didn't look like hers, Sybok sometimes felt as alien to Vulcan society
as she must feel. She interrupted his musings by turning her head
towards him.
"Take a seat,"
she demanded softly and patted the place beside her. She silently watched him
obey and reached for a package beside her when he sat. She took out the dermal
regenerator and lifted it to his face when she noticed with surprise that he
hadn't removed the beard. She hesitated and a small frown creased the area
between her eyes. "Why didn't you take the beard off, Sybok? I doubt you
forgot." she said and left the sentence trail off unfinished.
Sybok compressed his lips
briefly. "You are correct. I kept it on purpose," he answered.
Amanda sighed deeply. As always
she had to drag everything out of him - so like his father. "And will you
tell me which purpose it serves?"
"It's a physical
sign for my newly chosen way of life," he answered.
"And that is?"
Amanda prodded.
"I will no longer
adapt to the ways of the majority. I denied my true nature far too long. It is
making me sick," Sybok answered.
"You speak in idioms
like a human does," Amanda remarked. "It isn't exactly the Vulcan
way."
Sybok raised an eyebrow.
"It is not?" he queried but by his pronunciation Amanda knew the
question was rhetorical. "What *is* the Vulcan way, Amanda? Vulcan has
many faces. It would be wrong to treat a species of individuals as if they were
a collective. You know there is more than one ethnic group on Vulcan."
Amanda smiled faintly,
obviously reminiscing in memories triggered by this remark. "I have been
made aware of this," she answered.
Sybok cocked his head
lightly. Her remark piqued his curiosity. By the gentle way Amanda smiled he
had no doubt her memories involved his father. But he knew she would not
elaborate on her comment. What was between her and Sarek would forever be
locked away behind those blue eyes. He blinked confused about the way she had
distracted him from his original speech.
He frowned and tried to
pick up his broken train of thought. "So, if you have been made aware that
there are other ways than *the* Vulcan way, wouldn't you say an individual
should be given the opportunity to choose the way for himself?"
Amanda shook her head.
"It's not that easy, Sybok. You are not any Vulcan."
"As if anyone would
let me forget that," Sybok pressed through clenched teeth and stood to
pace. He had heard this phrase far too often during the last months. He knew
the motivation behind this. He would soon be of age for marriage and, of
course, the clan sat already waiting for him to produce the heirs required to
salvage the lineage. Not that he disliked his intended bondmate. Oh no, T'Lana was as smart as beautiful and had a hidden sense of
humour that matched his own. They were suitable bondmates in every aspect and
she was probably the best choice this clan had ever made for him. Nevertheless,
the pressure of social obligation bore down on him heavily. So often had he
recently envied Spock the place of second born. He
would have greater liberties to choose a career, if Sarek let him, that is.
"Again you don't
speak like a Vulcan, Sybok," Amanda remarked softly, interrupting Sybok's
thoughts. He whirled to face her and she jumped lightly at his rapid movement.
"I don't? Why?"
he asked, using the human sounding abbreviations now intentionally and then
hesitating a moment. "Don't you understand what was trying to
explain?" Disappointment accompanied the momentary outburst of temper when
he didn't see understanding in Amanda's eyes.
Amanda watched him turn
away from her again and frowned. He had definitely changed these last months,
had become more and more rebellious with each passing day so that she had to
struggle to keep the tension between him and his father at a tolerable level.
But she was exhausted from acting as buffer between them. This had to end. She
had a dark foreboding that the end would come sooner than expected and not with
a desirable outcome. She glanced at the chronometer at the wall. While Sybok
had been showering Sarek had called to announce his impending arrival enquiring
whether Sybok had returned. His curt manner didn't bode well for his mood and
what Sybok had to expect, especially if the boy persisted to display the
behaviour he did now. She would try to salvage what was left before father and
son met.
"Come here, Sybok.
Your father will be home soon," she said and again Sybok turned quickly to
her, this time with a flash in his eyes she couldn't quite identify. Was he
scared? Why wouldn't he be? Kas wan be damned he was
just a child, barely sixteen years of age and obviously torn between pride
about his own courage and fear about the reaction of his father.
Reluctantly he sat beside
her, turning his face towards her so that she could inspect his wounds. She
held his chin with one hand and lifted the dermal regenerator to his bruised
lip. To her surprise he lifted his chin out of her grasp and leaned back.
Slowly her hand with the
medical device dropped into her lap. She cocked her head at his thoughtful
expression. "What is it?"
"I don't wish you to
remove the bruises."
For a moment Amanda just
stared at him and then her gaze grew soft and pleading. "You don't make
this any easier for yourself," she stated matter-of-factly. But she saw no
relenting in his eyes. "Don't you realize that?" Sybok remained
silent and Amanda shook her head lightly at his unyielding stubbornness. Only
the brief flickering of his eyes away from her told her he had traces of doubt.
Nevertheless, his pride prevailed and he hefted his determined gaze back on
her.
With a sigh Amanda put
away the skin regenerator and took out some sealed pads and antiseptic
tincture. Carefully she applied a small amount of the solution to one of the
pads and dabbed the wounds on his face and hand clean. Afterwards she placed a
band-aid on the bruise on his cheekbone and leaned back a bit to inspect her
work. It wouldn't do much good to ease the tension between Sarek and his son.
She sighed lightly. When she had joined him and Spock she had heard him
confessing to have started the fight. Of course Sarek would be informed about
what had happened in detail but to see the physical signs of violence on his
son's face would just emphasize the great breach of trust Sybok had committed.
"You did not tell me
why you started the fight in the first place," she said
softly.
Sybok's gaze flickered
away for an instant. "It was about something that was said by a person who
is not worth mentioning," he murmured.
Amanda cocked her head.
"You won't tell me?"
Sybok glanced at her
reluctantly. "It doesn't alter the facts. It would merely serve to cause you distress."
Amanda bit her lip. That
left only two possibilities. The conversation had either been held in a
malicious way about her or about Spock and Sybok had deemed it necessary to
defend one or both of them. A flood of warm feelings for her step-son eased the
bitterness of being confronted with the bias against her family and Spock in
particular. She marveled at how much it still stung
after so many years.
"You cannot learn to
shield from personal attacks," Sybok said softly.
Amanda's gaze cleared
again and focused in on him. She had long since stopped to be surprised at
Sybok's ability to have insight into other people's thoughts without touching
them and establishing mental contact. She reached for his hand and sighed
heavily. "As a mother I appreciate your efforts to protect me and Spock."
She bit her lip lightly. "However, personally and as the wife of your father,
I am forced to see the flaw in your actions."
"Why?"
"It is wrong,
because from a Vulcan's point of view physical violence against another is a
severe crime. Non violence is one of the corner stones this society is built
on. Whatever your opponent did, it was wrong of you to avenge the breach of one
rule with the breach of another. You shouldn't have lowered yourself to such
acts."
Sybok lowered his eyes.
"I see. And given the circumstances of your position I understand your
reasoning. But. still, I
think what I did was necessary." He looked up at her and his brows drew
together angrily. "This had to stop."
Amanda gave him a sad
smile and laid her other hand over his, holding it between her own. "I
know you mean well, Sybok. No one blames you for the urge to protect your
family. But the cause doesn't justify the means in any case. Violence is the
wrong way." She motioned for the wounds on his face. "You only
emphasize your error by wearing your wounds as if they were some kind of a
trophy."
Sybok loosened his hand
from her grasp and she could see the mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes.
"You do not understand. Maybe you cannot understand. It does not
matter." He turned his face away. "I will keep the wounds," he
stated flatly.
Amanda sighed. This would
make matters worse. It was bordering on silliness that Sybok insisted on
wearing the testimony for his acts right on his face. But she knew he was as
stubborn as his father when it came to decisions of pride. Oh, Sarek wouldn't
call himself stubborn. She smiled sadly in her thoughts. He'd rather call it
determination – just another euphemism for a personal flaw. Not even Vulcans
were immune to self imposed illusions.
"Look at me,
Sybok," she said, waiting a few seconds. Sybok didn't move. She was just
about to repeat her request when he glanced at her. "You must not provoke and
never mock your father. What you did today is one of the worst things he can imagine
his sons doing."
Sybok's gaze darkened.
"Mock my father? I would not do this and you know it. I have the greatest
respect for Sarek. But this is not about him, Amanda. This is about *me*,"
he emphasized and stood again. "What you see on my face is a physical
manifestation of the choice I made. It is not to mock or provoke my father."
"That won't make a
difference," she said. "Whatever your motives are, you know what you
have to expect."
Sybok curled his hand
into a fist. "Yes, I do. But I have denied my wishes long enough. I came
to the decision that I do not wish to live my life as he or the clan expects me
to. I wish to be free, explore what is beyond the frontiers of this
society." He stood and began pacing again. "I feel caged. Every day
that I live to please others, is one day that is lost for me. Everyone has
expectations of me. I have to fulfill them to please my father, please the
clan. One day I shall accept a scholarship at Vulcan's finest university; I
shall marry and provide the clan with an heir." He nodded as if in
confirmation of his own words. "A great plan indeed and
a marvellous future for the clan with members in the highest scholarly
positions. But now tell me whose benefit was not considered in this
plan."
Amanda opened her mouth
to calm him, realizing he was talking himself into rage. But he didn't give her
an opportunity when he answered a notch louder.
"I tell you who was
disregarded." He turned his fiery gaze to her and pointed a finger to his
chest. "It's me. Everything for the society, for the clan," he paused
and spread his arms, "but nothing that I do will be for me as long as I allow
others to guide my life."
"And what is it you
seek that Vulcan society cannot provide? What is it that your clan denies
you?"
The voice that sounded
too calm in the current situation startled both Amanda and Sybok and they
turned to face the door. Sybok swallowed dryly when he caught sight of his
father standing in the doorway. Sarek seemed to have appeared out of nowhere,
like a ghost. His stance seemed relaxed but the lowered head and the glowing
eyes that fixed his son from beneath knitted brows let Sybok recognize the
confrontational posture and he mentally prepared himself. There was no way back
now.
Amanda stood
and stepped between father and son, maintaining the mediator stance she had
taken on so often recently. Sybok felt the flow of energy between her mind and
Sarek's and therefore he knew they were communicating over the bond, although,
Sarek didn't once change focus of his smoldering gaze
from his son to his wife. From the corner of his eyes he saw Amanda's mouth
tightening and abruptly Sarek's gaze tore loose from him and hefted itself on
the human woman, the room almost crackling with telepathic energy as if the two
of them were fighting a mental battle. Amanda stood her ground long enough to
show her refusal of being intimidated. Then she inclined her head. "It is your
choice," she said curtly and then turned to Sybok. She touched his hand
and squeezed it briefly. Then she gave him a sad smile and left the room,
without wasting any further attention on her husband.
"Please be
seated," Sarek said when he came further into the room.
"No. I prefer to
stand," Sybok answered. He didn't wish to give his father the psychological
advantage to be able to tower over him while he had to sit.
"As you wish,"
Sarek replied curtly and switched to the crux of the conversation without
further delay. "Your behavior in public has
greatly deteriorated recently. You have repeatedly failed to control your
emotional reactions. As you know well, we have had previous discussions about
this. I assumed I had made myself clear in requesting that such occasions not
arise again. But my expectations in you were deeply disappointed. Today I was
informed you engaged in a physical confrontation."
"That is
correct," Sybok answered.
Sarek seethed inwardly
upon hearing the rather unimpressed confession. "So what is you
explanation for this disruptive behavior?"
"Our family and
bloodline was gravely insulted today and I made the decision to strike out at Stanek because I deemed the cause to be sufficient,"
Sybok answered without a blink.
Sarek's brows seemed to
lower even deeper and anger darkened his eyes. "That is not a valid
explanation. Mere words can never justify a physical attack."
"They cannot? I
think they did. I despise of the social obligations that forbid us to protect
our family or avenge someone spitting on its honor."
"There was no threat
to the family," Sarek objected. "And spiteful words harm no one's honor than that of the person who spoke them. Your
behaviour is therefore inexcusable. Logic dictates."
"No. Not
logic," Sybok interrupted. He struggled not to step back when Sarek approached
and stopped directly in front of him, invading his personal space on purpose as
a means to intimidate him. 'This will not work,' Sybok swore inwardly and
obstinately refused to step back. Their eyes were on the same level and locked
in a vicious contest of wills.
After some seconds
without the desired effect Sarek spoke very low. "Do not interrupt me
again." For an instant he studied his son's face, taking in the signs of
physical aggression. "With the unrestrained display of emotions and an attack
against a fellow student, it was *you* who brought shame on your clan. You have
repeatedly behaved inappropriately in public and from your answers I conclude
that you are not willing to re-consider your actions. I shall make sure this
kind of behavior is brought to an end."
Sybok's mouth tightened
at this veiled threat. "You would apply disciplines you deem necessary
before hearing me out? Emotion must not serve malicious purposes," he
replied. "I had no malicious intents."
"Is that so?"
Sarek asked. "Your appearance belies your words."
Sybok shook his head.
"No. It is not violence that I seek. But I wish to explore what is not to
be defined by grades and academic titles. We are more than that," Sybok answered
almost pleadingly. When he saw no understanding in Sarek's features the lines
of his face hardened and his voice was tinged with stubbornness when he
continued to speak. "Furthermore, I have the right to live as I wish and
not as the clan or society expects me too."
"You must realize
that your quest for yourself has led you on the wrong path already," Sarek
answered as his gaze roamed his son's features again. Sybok had proven to
possess a brilliant mind. Why would the child not understand that his path was
wrong?
Sybok shook his head.
"I beg to differ. I was not the one denying members of our clan the
courtesy they deserve. It is my right, as heir and son of this house to defend
my family against spiteful interference of others. It is the way of the forefathers."
Sarek frowned. "You
already named the evidence that proves your actions false. The past is the
past. The forefathers shall be honored and their
traditions maintained, but they cannot serve as a role model and their violent
ways are neither binding, nor appropriate for modern Vulcan society.
Furthermore, you shall not use their name to justify your failure at
control."
Sybok lifted his chin.
"I did not fail."
Sarek nodded and his eyes
glistened intensely. "You just confirmed my worst misgivings. You are
hereby confirming that you deliberately gave your emotionalism free reign which
resulted in violence against another. You shall not be allowed to continue this
destructive development. You will, therefore, here and now renounce all
intentions to pursue this chosen path of yours further."
Sybok shook his head.
"It must not be this way. I am well able to restrain my negative emotions
if I choose to."
Sarek's stance changed
and for an instant he almost seemed sympathetic. His voice was devoid of the
hard edge when he spoke again. "You are mistaken, my son. If you choose to
travel down the path where emotion has free reign you shall see there is no
possibility to take a part of them only. Your bruises testify not only for the
error you committed but they also condemn your future efforts to failure."
Sybok's brows drew
together and then he whirled in anger and paced away from his father. "You
do not know what happened," he started heatedly.
"Negative. I was
informed about the incident in detail."
"Then you know what
conversation preceded the physical argument?"
"Affirmative"
"So?"
Sarek raised an eyebrow.
"It is of no consequence. You have committed a violent act against a
fellow Vulcan. That is inexcusable."
"Stanek
insulted our family. I know he and his younger brothers are stalking Spock
after school. You blame Spock for his lack of control but the fact is that he
would not need to come home with a bloody nose and torn clothes if those 'full-blooded'
Vulcans honored Surak's
teachings the way they claim to. Stanek and people of
his mindset are the ones who disregard Surak's
teachings in betraying IDIC and refusing members of our family the respect
which is their due. They do the wrong! Why should they not harvest what they
sow?" Sybok stopped to take a deep breath and realized with dismay that he
had talked himself into a fury once again.
"Again you are
twisting another's teachings as well as using someone else's fault to justify
your ill judgment and behavior. Your emotionalism and
refusal to take on responsibility merely emphasizes the immaturity of your
analytical thinking," Sarek replied evenly.
"I do not need
dogmas to justify my conduct. But you obviously need them to justify your lack
of initiative. You are not able to silence those who deride your family,"
Sybok spat in rage.
Sarek's eyes flashed and
he took a deep breath. "Do not presume to be the judge of matters you
obviously fail to understand. You have repeatedly proven that you lack guidance
and a proper perspective. Since I am responsible that it came to this, I intend
to remedy this error."
"How so? By
disciplining me? Do you think that is the solution? Do you think you will
change my attitude by trying to bury my feelings under a layer of imposed remorse
that is not mine but is, in fact, yours because you
think you have failed me?" Sybok asked and his voice raised.
"I had hoped you
would be mature enough to reconsider your chosen path but since you do not show
any trace of regret or insight, you leave me no other choice. Your impertinent
and self destructive behavior has to be stopped and
it *will* be brought to an end. I claim my right as your father to help you to
re-focus your life. I have arranged for a passage to Gol
and you will leave in the morning. Once there you shall study the disciplines
under the tutelage of the adepts until they deem you fit to apply your controls
properly and reclaim your position in this family."
Sybok blinked, for an
instant being thrown off base. Was it really true? Wouldn't Sarek understand at
all? He had expected a debate with his father but would Sarek go as far as
sending him away to be… repaired? Repaired, like a malfunctioning replicator?
The love of a child for his father fought a cruel battle with his desire for
freedom and the shock of Sarek's intentions. But he couldn't relinquish his
peace of mind to please another no matter if the consequences of disobedience
tore his heart apart. Seeing Sarek's iron determination he steeled his will to
face anything to come and drew up to his full height. "No. I refuse to
give you – or anyone else – control over my life any longer. I."
"Silence!"
Sarek thundered and out of habit Sybok stopped speaking. He had never seen his
father this furious. He bit his lip but the lightly quivering words found their
way out before he could stop them.
"I said 'no'. No one
makes decisions for me anymore. I claim control over my life from now on."
He drew a shuddering breath. "I will do it with or without your
consent."
"You will not."
"I will, "Sybok
persisted, "and there is nothing you can do about it."
"Enough of
this," Sarek hissed. "I will no longer - and never again – be confronted
with such gross misbehavior by my own son. This
discussion is over. I will now escort you to your room and you will stay there
until your transport arrives in the morning."
A moment of silence
followed, father and son staring at each other, the standoff still not decided
in anyone's favor. When Sarek started to move, Sybok
raised a hand and shook his head. "Do not bother," he said, his voice a mixture of defeat and grief.
But there was something
else in it. Some undertone Sarek could not yet identify but that made him very
wary. He watched his son compressing his lips and walking past him to disappear
in the direction of his room.
When he heard
the door shut Sarek took a moment to collect his thoughts. Realizing he had
clenched his jaws together in a painful lock he consciously relaxed. He sorely
needed to meditate if he allowed the rebellion of his eldest son to upset him
so much. He closed his eyes for some moments and took deep breaths. He almost
started when a cool hand touched his arm. He turned to see his wife standing
beside him, a concerned expression on her face. His gaze caught a movement by
the door and he saw Spock leaning against the doorframe of the living room
entrance, half hiding and watching him cautiously. He must have left his room
after deeming the situation momentarily stabilized. The boy's eyes held the
same concern as those of his mother.
Sarek mused how often the
family had found itself in this position after another fight between Sybok and
him - too many times recently. And each time the tone between him and his
eldest son had become harsher. He trembled inwardly. Sybok had developed to a
state where he was barely controllable anymore. Each time they fought it took
Sarek more effort to make him back down. And as always he got the impression
that with every confrontation, the boy was slipping further out of the grasp of
his control no matter how much authority he put into his words. In fact, the
day's events showed him all too clearly his son was past the stage of
admonishments. Serious measures had to be taken to correct the boy's behavior and attitude. Sybok was not fully grown yet but of
strong build already, and with his physical strength still increasing, the lack
of emotional control made him a threat to others. It was not unusual for youths
to search their own path, but Sybok's attempts to break the grip of family
commitments had increased to tremendous frustration as well as his obsession to
get rid of anything that demanded his responsibility - the control of his
emotions included. He couldn't be allowed to continue to think along these
lines.
His thoughts returned to
the meeting with the Elders. The decision to send his son back to Gol had not only been his personal wish. The Family Council
had indeed demanded it. Sybok had crossed a significant inhibition threshold. Whereas
the former incidents had been more or less breaches of etiquette Sybok had applied
physical violence against someone else. Such behavior
was intolerable and the adepts would see to correct that. This time his son
would get the proper Vulcan training at Gol.
"Will Sybok do as he
says and leave?"
The voice of his younger
son snapped Sarek out of his dark thoughts. He shook his head. "No, he
will not. The only place he is going to is Gol. Of
that you can be absolutely certain."
He felt Amanda's hand
tightening on his arm. She looked at Spock. "Would you please leave us
alone, Spock? Your father and I need to talk."
Spock was dismayed about
being sent away a second time and searched Sarek's eyes for confirmation. The
elder Vulcan nodded and Spock cast his eyes down and retreated to give his
parents privacy.
"That was
close," Amanda said and looked up at her husband. She saw the muscles in
his jaws twitch and felt his tension through the physical as well as the mental
touch.
"No
matter. He
will obey," Sarek answered and stepped back. He folded his hands and
walked to the window. The light outside had become a darker shade of red, silently
announcing the impending sunset.
Amanda came to stand
beside him. Again she laid a hand on his arm. She remained silent until her
wordless plea made him look at her. "How can you be so sure?" she asked.
"He is slipping away from us, Sarek. Away from you," she said urgently,
her brows furrowing ever so slightly and her hand tightening on his arm as if
she were desperate about him being oblivious to that fact.
Sarek's eyes glinted for
an instant when uncertainty flickered over his expression. Then he lifted his
gaze to the garden again. "I am sure he will obey. Do not be concerned. He
will realize regaining his controls is for the better. The situation will
improve when he studies with the masters. This time he will get the proper
training."
A doubtful expression
clouded Amanda's features. "Improve?" she echoed. "For
whom? For him, or for us? Or
for you?"
Sarek turned fully to
her. The annoyance furrow, as Amanda had named it long before, appeared on his
forehead. He opened his mouth to answer her when a movement in the hall caught
his attention. Both turned to the door and to their surprise Sybok was standing
on the threshold. Sarek tensed immediately.
"I did not allow you
to leave your room," he said tersely. "I expect you to stay there
until further notice."
"I know that,"
Sybok answered, almost casually. "But I already told you I would no longer
be under your control. It would appear our communication lacks mutual comprehension
if this was not clear to you."
"Mutual
comprehension." Sarek echoed, an edge of incredulousness entering
his voice. He turned fully in Sybok's direction.
After a moment of stunned
mental silence Amanda could feel the flames of his ire roaring up and leaking
through the bond. She reached for him but he easily freed himself from her grip
and approached his son. He fixed Sybok with a hard stare. "I have made
myself very clear and I expect you to follow my wishes. You forget to whom you
are speaking."
Sybok shook his head sadly.
"Unfortunately I do not."
"I assumed you had,
judging by this total lack of respect for your elder," Sarek answered and
drew in a hissing breath.
Sybok cocked his head and
studied Sarek's stony impression. Only the tightly curled fists hinted at the
older Vulcan's fury, carefully concealed until now.
"Anger,
Father?" Sybok asked. "It seems I am not the only one who lacks
..."
"Kroykah!"
Both Vulcans froze and
Sybok's gaze snapped to Amanda who had uttered the ritual word. By Sarek's
expression she could see that Sybok was treading on thin ice. The only time she
had seen Sarek so furious that his face paled had been during their first pon
farr together. The healer who had come to check on her had paid dearly for
aggravating Sarek's fragile temper. Of course, this situation was different.
She knew Sarek could take any sort of provocation if his controls were firmly
in place, but this assault came from a beloved son, a fact that increased the
impact ten fold. Sarek would never harm one of his sons, of that she was
absolutely sure. But how long his controls would endure Sybok's well aimed
attacks she did not know. She stepped between the two Vulcans and searched Sarek's
eyes to gauge his condition. Only with tremendous effort he tore his gaze away
from his son. Amanda's eyes were like cool water for the hot iron of his anger.
He nodded in confirmation and Amanda turned to Sybok.
"This is
enough," she said calmly, and her eyes were cool, daring the young Vulcan
to object.
Sybok stared at her for
an instant. She blinked, startled, when she saw something flickering in his
eyes – a fleeting emotion – and she could almost hear his mental cry of
betrayal that seemed to ring in the air between them like the high pitched
sound of breaking glass. Regret flooded her for an instant. She knew Sybok
trusted her and his expression revealed his bewilderment about her silencing
him with the use of an ancient ritual phrase that he could not ignore if he
valued the old ways he had always held high. He must have expected she would be
on her husband's side and silently support his decisions but that she would
openly oppose him must have been beyond his imagination. She felt sorry for him
but he had brought this situation upon himself in trying to break free from his
father's influence in a forceful and, also for Sarek, painful way.
His eyes lost their vivid
challenging gleam and grew dull when he accepted what was for him the
inevitable consequence of her actions. He bowed lightly. "I ask forgiveness
for bringing disturbance to your home, T'sai."
Amanda flinched inwardly
by his tone and the title stung her. It was his way of taking revenge for the
betrayal for it made her remember all too well how distantly he had acted
towards her when he was a child. She had no opportunity to answer when he
stepped back and lifted his hand.
"Live long and
prosper, T'sai," he said calmly and his gaze flicked briefly to Sarek. He
opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but kept silent, and then he
dropped his hand and turned on his heel.
Sarek frowned
upon hearing the farewell and exchanged a concerned gaze with his wife. Their
dark foreboding came true when Sybok didn't retreat to his room but picked up a
travel bag that he had placed out of their sight and disappeared in the direction
of the main entrance.
Sarek's eyes grew wide
when he realized what his son was about to do. Without another word he set
after Sybok. Amanda followed him and watched anxiously how he crossed the
hallway with long strides. She could feel the change in her husband's emotional
state that developed from anger to almost desperation upon realizing he had
lost control over his son. Sybok was stubborn and determined. If they let him
go now he might never return. He would be too proud to come back even after realizing
he made a mistake. Sarek knew that and her heart ached for both of them.
"Sybok, I would
speak to you," Sarek called after him but the youth didn't slow his pace.
He reached the heavy front door and opened it when Sarek reached him and pushed
it shut with a hand laid flat against the wooden surface. Their eyes met.
"I said, I would
speak to you," Sarek repeated with carefully controlled features.
"About
what?"
Sybok almost whispered. "That I must see your reasoning?
Is Gol the best solution for my problem?" He
shook his head. "Think about it, Father. It is merely more convenient for
you to send me away rather than deal with me."
Sarek shook his head.
"You cannot be allowed to act as you did today. It is not Vulcan."
Sybok frowned.
"Since when does one individual define the standards for a society?"
"Since Surak
did," Sarek answered calmly.
"I did not mean him.
I mean you. You are hardly in the position to classify what is Vulcan and what
is not. You defied tradition yourself by marrying a human woman against the
wishes of your clan." His gaze flicked to Amanda who stood at the other
end of the hallway, anxiously watching them.
Sarek's gaze darkened
when heard Sybok's words but he controlled the anger welling up in him. He
swallowed his original answer and answered in a reversal of Sybok's words.
"I may not classify what is Vulcan and what is not, but neither do
you."
"Just as I
thought," Sybok hissed. "There is no use in continuing this conversation.
It is not that you cannot understand, you simply
choose not to. Peace and long life, Sarek," he said and opened the door
again.
Faced with the cruel
truth that he had lost control over the young man's actions Sarek acted out of
sudden desperation and took hold of his son's arm.
Sybok made an agitated
move to free himself from his grip. "Let me go!" he said forcefully
and released the door to grab Sarek's arm in turn. His grip was enforced by his
anger and in a reflex triggered by pain, Sarek's free hand reached for the
juncture of his son's neck and shoulder. With an incredulous look, Sybok's eyes
met his father's when his knees buckled. He tried to reach for the hand still
touching his shoulder when his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost
consciousness.
Sarek prevented his fall
although he was stunned about what he had just done. He told himself it had
been the only option left but he couldn't free himself from the impact his
actions had. He had rendered his son unconscious, had physically prevented him
from leaving his house. For an instant he stared down at the limp body and then
placed a hand under Sybok's legs to lift him easily into his arms. He turned
and his gaze met that of his wife.
Amanda had her hand
pressed over her mouth and her eyes were wide. She had expected many things,
but not that the argument would end in a physical confrontation. She composed
herself upon seeing Sarek's pale face. Despite his best efforts to control his
expression she could see and feel a mixture of astonishment and numbness. He
approached her slowly but avoided her eyes when he walked past her in the
direction of Sybok's room.
She followed him and
remained standing in the doorway when Sarek gently laid Sybok on the bed. He
remained kneeling nearby, staring motionlessly down at the now peaceful
features of his son. Then he breathed deeply and stood. Turning towards her
Amanda could see the dark shadows under his eyes, the strain of his emotional
burden clearly visible. He started to walk past her but she took hold of his
hand when he went by. Both knew she wouldn't be able to physically stop him if
he didn't wish it, but her hand was like a force field. She waited several long
seconds for him to look at her.
"There was nothing
else you could do. You thought he was going to attack you, and he would not
listen," she whispered in an attempt to console him.
Sarek didn't even blink
and showed no indication that he had understood her. "There are always
possibilities," he finally replied, his voice as low as hers.
Amanda sighed and let go
of his hand. He didn't allow her access through the bond right now so she had
to leave him alone until he did. She listened to his steps receding down the
hall and then she approached the bed. She sighed heavily and stroked a hand
through Sybok's thick hair. "Stubborn kid," she murmured and looked
up when she heard Sarek return to the room. Surprised that he had not retreated
for meditation, she watched him with a curious expression when he entered the
room. She stood when he approached the bed and drew a hissing breath when Sarek
held Sybok's chin with one hand and lifted the dermal regenerator to his son's
face with the other. He glanced up at her.
"Do you think this
is the right decision, Sarek?" she asked. "To remove the outer signs
will not solve the inner conflict. This will serve nothing else but to harden
the barriers."
"Keeping the signs
of his disgrace will not encourage him to do better," Sarek replied
evenly, dismissing her comment.
Amanda's eyes glistened
angrily and she shook her head. "You know, Sybok is just a child and wrong
in defying Vulcan tradition in the extreme. But he is right about one thing: it
is not that you can't understand. You simply choose not to. Your son inherited
his stubbornness from you and if you would just realize that this leads to
nothing, you would not be so blind as to believe you will solve his problem if
you erase the evidence." With that she turned on her heel and left the
room.
Sarek stared after her
for some seconds and then he looked at his son. Amanda was right. Sybok was
stubborn and this would most possibly not be the last he would hear about this
chosen path. In fact, he could feel the high psionic activity emanating from
his son. The youth seemed to fight the unconsciousness with untamed vigor. But this only encouraged Sarek in his decision.
Amanda could not understand that this was exactly the reason why Sybok needed a
guiding hand. He must set the proper example for the boy now. He lifted the
dermal regenerator and carefully sealed the wounds until they were gone
After leaving
Sybok's room Amanda slowed her pace. For a moment she was at a loss as to where
to go. For Sarek the choice would be easier. She knew he would either retreat
to his meditation chamber or the study to reclaim his inner balance. But no
place seemed to offer tranquility for *her* right now and she envied him the
personal hiding place deep down in his mind. When she paused briefly in the
hall she heard the clicking sound of a door. Her gaze snapped to Spock's room.
The door stood open a small crack and she closed her eyes briefly. She had no
doubt he had heard her conversation with Sarek. She couldn't blame him for
eavesdropping. This situation was unique. Sarek's authority had never been
questioned in the way it had been today. But how much had Spock seen and heard?
She sighed heavily. She
was in desperate need for silence and time to think but she had another child
to consider. She had never put her own needs before that of her son - and she
would certainly not do it now. Cautiously she approached the door and knocked
softly. "Spock?" she asked gently. "May I come in?"
She didn't get an answer.
Carefully she pushed the door open with the tips of her fingers. To her
surprise the room was empty. She frowned lightly and returned to the hall. If
he wasn't in his room there was only one other place where he could be - the
garden. Entering the living room she heard the sliding door, which led to the
garden, glide shut. She remained standing in the door frame and watched Spock
disappearing along a narrow path in the garden. Usually he would go to I-Chaya's pen if something troubled him. But the old sehlat
had died a few months earlier. She knew how much the loss of his loyal friend
pained him. He had drawn back into himself more since then. He also hadn't made
a move in the direction of the pen but preferred the other side of the garden.
When asked why he was avoiding the pen he would just answer it was illogical to
go there since I-Chaya wasn't there anymore. But
Amanda knew better. He was not ready to find the place of one of his dearest
friends deserted. Curiously, though, in his Vulcan way of dealing with pain
about I-Chaya's loss, he found tranquility among the
thick Earth vegetation on the other side of the garden. She didn't dare imagine
what would happen if fate took away the only other friend her boy had - his
brother. They needed to talk.
She decided to give him a
head start and went into the kitchen. Sarek wouldn't be having dinner now in
any case. She didn't feel like eating either. But a bit of comfort food
wouldn't hurt and would do her and Spock some good after this afternoon. In a
few minutes, she entered the garden, carrying two small bowls with her.
Following the narrow path through the thick vegetation she finally found Spock
kneeling beside the garden wall. She frowned lightly and wondered what he was
studying so intently. He turned his head slightly when he heard her approach.
He held up his hand to slow her down and she cautiously stepped closer and
looked over his shoulder. Her gaze fell on a piece of fruit he had placed a few
feet away from him. A movement beside the fruit caught her eye and only then did
she see the small animal crouched in the sand, its brownish-red color serving
as a perfect camouflage. It was a ch'karya, a small
rodent that usually fed on the roots of plants. Her mouth dropped open
slightly. She had tried to drive that creature out of her garden for quite some
time now. But every time she thought she finally got rid of it another plant
died due to this animal gnawing away on the roots. 'No wonder I can't get rid
of that bugger if my son's feeding it,' she thought dryly, for an instant
forgetting the situation that brought them here.
They remained motionless
and the ch'karya finally made a cautious step,
sniffed at the offered fruit, then snatched it with a quick movement and fled
with incredible speed to disappear beneath the low branches of a nearby
lavender bush. When the animal had disappeared Amanda stepped back and
unceremoniously sat on the sandy ground, passing a bowl to Spock.
He took it and looked at
the contents. "I am not hungry, Mother," he said cautiously, not
intending to hurt her.
Amanda wouldn't be put
off that easily. "One doesn't need to be hungry to have comfort food,
Spock," she lectured gently. "See what's beneath the fruit," she
encouraged further.
Spock gave her a calm
gaze and then he sighed lightly and sat down cross legged. He used the spoon in
the bowl to dig beneath the layer of fruit covered by red sauce. His mouth
twitched lightly when he found a layer of whipped cream beneath. Still he
didn't feel very hungry. But obediently he dug his spoon into the cream and
caught some red fruit and sauce on top. He looked at his mother. She froze in a
similar motion and then smiled lightly before she brought her spoon to her
mouth. Spock mirrored her action and both narrowed their eyes a bit when the
tart fruit hit their tongues, the sensation eased by the sweet taste of the
following cream. It had always been their favorite
comfort food and both indulged themselves in silence.
When they had finished
they both sat for a while longer, each lost in their thoughts while Vulcan's
sun slowly dipped behind the garden wall, to soon disappear beneath the
horizon.
Surprisingly it was Spock
who spoke first. "Will Sybok leave?"
Amanda watched him until
he looked at her. She opened her mouth but when she spoke, other words than the
encouraging phrases she had planned left her lips. "I don't know, Spock. I
really don't know."
"Father will not
allow it, will he?"
Amanda shook her head.
"No," she answered and shivered a bit when remembering the scene in
the hall. She studied Spock to try and find out how much he had seen but his
expression gave her no clue. There was no other way. "Spock, do you know
what happened?"
Spock's gaze flickered
away for a second. "I did not see… but… I heard Sybok's bag falling to the
floor. . . and only father's steps returning from the front
door. There is only one logical conclusion about what happened," Spock answered.
He avoided her gaze and used the spoon to pick at the remaining fruit in his
bowl with faked interest.
Amanda reached for his
wrist. Startled about her touch and the firm grip Spock looked up at her.
Amanda's voice was firm. "Spock, I want you to know one thing. What your
father did today was an unavoidable consequence resulting from your brother's behavior."
Spock's eyebrows climbed
his forehead. "Do you mean Sybok attacked Father?"
Amanda hesitated a moment
and then shook her head. "No, not exactly."
She grimaced when Spock's brows descended and bunched together in an expression
of confusion. She wasn't explaining this well. "No, it was an accident. He
wanted to go, but your father held him back. He tried to free himself and
grabbed Sarek's arm too hard. Your father acted out of a reflex. He meant no
harm."
Spock still looked
confused. His father acted on impulse? The same father who planned all his
steps so very carefully and seemed to master and expect every situation? He had
been caught by surprise? For an instant he could forget the shock about the
physical confrontation. But then the thoughts came back and he wondered what
would happen now.
"What will happen
when Sybok awakes?" he asked. He knew Amanda couldn't know sooner what to
expect than he could. But some part of him hoped nevertheless, appealing to his
mother to tell him they would be all right.
Amanda's features grew
soft when she watched Spock's vulnerable expression. She resisted the urge to
stroke a reassuring hand over his head. He wasn't a child anymore and wouldn't
welcome the motherly gesture. She smiled sadly instead. "I do not know,
Spock. This is something between your brother and your father. They will speak
tomorrow. But they must settle this argument between themselves." She could
see Spock was dissatisfied with that answer - she couldn't blame him. But he,
as well as any other youth, had to learn that there wasn't a happy ending to every
story. Whether this could be settled lay in Sybok's and Sarek's hands alone.
She patted Spock's thigh encouragingly and took the bowl from him. "Come inside
now. I am sure you didn't get a chance to finish your studies for today, right?"
Spock nodded. "That
is true," Spock answered reluctantly but Amanda could see he wasn't ready
to come back with her yet.
"Okay," she relented
and winked understandingly. "But don't be too long. It will be dark
soon," she baited him.
Spock didn't disappoint
her. "It will be dark in 12.65 minutes. I will be inside by then," he
answered with annoying Vulcan accuracy but his eyes glinted teasingly, the
family crisis forgotten for an instant.
Amanda smiled at him and
returned to the house. Breathing a sigh of relief when the cooler atmosphere
inside embraced her she paused a moment after closing the door to the garden
and listened. The house was utterly quiet – too quiet. The comfortable
temperature seemed to drop several degrees when the silence brought back fresh
memories of what had happened only shortly ago. Amanda shivered lightly. She
checked on Sybok but he was still unconscious. She didn't need to search for
Sarek. Through the dimmed mental connection she heard the flow of his thoughts
like they were filtered through a wall of cotton wool. The sensation was
familiar to her for he often meditated in the evenings when she was not asleep
yet. Today was different, however, and she could sense the aggravated flood of
his feelings like rapids in his usually calm and controlled flow of thoughts.
With Spock having already eaten and knowing Sarek wouldn't return from meditation
for hours to come she dismissed her plans for dinner, visiting the library
instead although not sure if she would find the right mood to sink into the
comforting world of her books.
Darkness…
wherever he turned... hot pain… Sybok's
thoughts roared in fury while he struggled to find a way out of the
artificially induced coma the neck pinch had imprisoned his mind in. He had
made it through several layers back to consciousness already but the last
barriers wouldn't break. He groped for them with clawed thoughts, pushing and
pulling, trying to find a weakness to break through. Reason told him it was too
early. His body needed more time to deal with the overload of his nervous
system. But he couldn't wait – he didn't *want* to wait! With an inner cry he
collected all his mental strength, channeled all the
suppressed feelings and tore loose from the grip of unconsciousness. His eyes
opened with a start and what had been a shrill roar in his mind escaped as a
strained moan from his mouth. When the rushing sound of blood in his ears had
eased he took in his surroundings.
Without moving his head
he knew he was in his room. The chamber was dark and only the pale light of
Vulcan's sister planet filtered through the half-opened curtains. He listened.
The house was quiet. His inner time sense told him the other occupants of the
house had probably retired to bed already – maybe with the exception of his
father. The thought sliced through him and he gritted his teeth. After some
seconds he noticed that it was not only his thoughts that sent waves of
uncomfortable coldness through his body. His clothes felt soaking wet in
evidence of the strain his mind's struggle for consciousness had forced upon
his weakened body. He began to shiver and his teeth rattled as his whole body
trembled from unresolved physical shock. His limbs were so heavy that he initially
thought he was restrained to the bed. But when he was finally able to lift a
quivering arm he noticed he was free. If he could just move.
He turned his head and pain shot through him so badly that it felt like his
head was about to split wide open. He winced and bared his gritted teeth in an
attempt not to scream. Instinctively a trembling hand groped for the sore area
at the juncture of his neck where his father's hand had sent him into unconsciousness.
He breathed heavily and tried to control the pain.
With cramped movements he
turned on his side and curled into a fetal position. Inwardly
he seethed but realized there was nothing more to do now. His mind might have
found a way out of the darkness but his body demanded rest. Until the shock of
the nervous system had eased he would remain in a state of semi paralysis no
matter how strong his will was to get up and leave. Not only would he lose time
now to fulfill his plans, he was also condemned to be distracted by memories of
the recent events, and disturbing thoughts of doubt about his decision.
He jerked slightly a
while later and realized that he must have dozed off. He tried to consult his
time sense but his mind was still foggy from sleep. Carefully he stretched his arms and legs and
noticed with contentment that his mobility had been restored almost fully. His
shoulder was still sore but otherwise he seemed to be in adequate shape again.
He paused when he heard steps in the hall. Listening for a second he recognized
Sarek's footfall. A mixture of anger and still-fresh disbelief of his father's
actions washed over him and he was unsure what to do if his father entered the
room. The steps came closer. He made the decision in a split second, remained
still, evened out his breathing and closed his eyes when he heard Sarek enter.
Silently Sarek approached
the bed. He instantly realized Sybok's position had changed since he had last
left the room. He listened briefly and recognized the deep breathing sounds
that indicated the boy was asleep. He must have smoothly crossed the border
from unconsciousness to sleep and Sarek was silently grateful for that. This
way Sybok would be spared further aggravation caused by the physical discomfort
– a side effect of a nerve pinch. It would be beneficial if his son had the
opportunity to think about his actions and his future with a well rested mind
and body instead of through pain. 'A good night's sleep helps to set things
into a new perspective,' he heard Amanda's words in his thoughts. He sighed
briefly. The problem would not be solved that easily. But at least the conflict
had been broken. Shame flooded him when he remembered the nerve pinch. Out of
an impulse he extended his hand and laid it on Sybok's shoulder. 'Forgive me
child. I did not want this to happen,' he thought in silent apology. His gaze roamed
over the features of his son, half thrown into darkness by T'Kuht's
pale light. In so many ways Sybok was still a child, a child trapped in the
body of a man. Of a Vulcan male. This was a dangerous
combination, especially in one who rejects the Vulcan ways.
He noticed the damp hair
and realized the clothes didn't feel just cold but wet as well. He compressed
his lips. Although unconscious the nerve pinch had caused Sybok's body great
stress. Again a wave of guilt washed over him. Silently he got up and retrieved
a blanket from the foot of the bed. He spread it over Sybok and tucked it
around the boy's shoulders. He paused a moment. They would speak tomorrow.
Again the feeling returned that he was about to lose his son to a dangerous
philosophy and the thought made him bristle inwardly. They *had* to speak
tomorrow. Then he released his grip and turned away, not knowing this would be
the last time he saw his first born son.
When he was out of the
door Sybok sat up straight. For an instant all his plans were forgotten. His
sensitive telepathic hearing had caught Sarek's thoughts. Never had his father
confessed an error. The fact that he had not directly apologized and thought
his son asleep while expressing his silent remorse didn't matter right now. For
an instant Sybok felt hope for being understood accompanied by a rush of love
for his father coursing through him, washing clean the wounds that had been
caused over the years. Had Sarek made the first step on the road to better
understanding? His eyes burned with unshed tears but the words 'I did not want
this either,' died on his lips when the brief flickering of a force field
outside of the window let him know the house's security system had been
activated. The implied knowledge hit his stomach like a cold punch.
Sarek had imprisoned him.
Coldness blew away the warm feelings and Sybok buried his face in his hands. He
heard the door to the master bedroom close and he felt as alone as if the gates
of a tomb had been closed, trapping him inside and condemning him to eternal
loneliness. With his hands touching his face he felt the stubbles of his beard
still there, but. his wounds were gone. He touched the
former bruises and noticed his skin was as smooth as before. They must have
been removed while he had been unconscious against his will and as a sure sign
of rejecting his new found values. He didn't need to ask who had done it. His forehead
creased when he closed his eyes and pressed his fists upon them in a futile
effort to shut out the truth that Sarek, although seeming to be shaken about
his actions, would carry out his intended plan no matter what. He had made sure
he, Sybok, would still be there in the morning to be brought to Gol where his inappropriate ideals were to be purged. Anger
flared back up and he swallowed, forced his hands down and suppressed the self
pitying thoughts.
Sarek would not accept
another way except his own. "So be it," he murmured softly and
reached for the IDIC pendant dangling from his neck. He had originally wanted
to take it with him to always remember what he had run away from - no, what he
had freed himself from. But he didn't want it anymore, he didn't need it
anymore! His eyes burned again with the same unshed tears of love, yet not the
same, for his love had been rejected, had been subjected to rules and
conditions imposed by his father. He clenched his fist around the pendant and
felt the edges of the triangle penetrating his skin like it penetrated the
circle of unity. With a quick agitated move he jerked at the pendant and the
chain around his neck broke. His fine hearing caught the snapping, high pitched
sound of the fragile chain links, but to his ears it sounded like the breaking
clank of heavy chains. Calmness flooded him and he slowly opened his eyes and
looked down at the pendant. It was just a piece of silver now - not a symbol
any longer. It no longer held any power over him. He had broken the spell.
Slowly he tilted his hand until the pendant slipped from his palm and hit the
tiles of the floor. He cocked his head slightly as if listening to the echo of
how a chapter of his life closed.
Without haste he got up
and changed his clothes and then he returned to the bed and sat on it cross
legged. All he needed to do now was to wait until Sarek fell asleep. He was
soon to know that this could prove longer than he thought for his mind picked
up shreds of Sarek's still troubled thoughts now and then. He seemed to toss and
turn in bed rather than finding rest and so did his thoughts. Not even the
realization that Sarek could not shrug off what had happened could deter Sybok
from his path now.
He stirred lightly when
he noticed the conscious presence of another mind. He sighed lightly when
realizing Amanda must have woken up due to Sarek's restlessness. Silently he
wondered how long he would have to wait now that they were both awake when
their thoughts relaxed shortly thereafter and gained a more sensuous quality.
He felt the blood rush to his face when his mind played through the possible
reasons. Deliberately avoiding listening to the thought fragments that grazed
his shields, he came to the conclusion that Sarek would be occupied long enough
for him to leave.
He stood from the bed and
took a last look around his room. To leave the substantial things behind would
be much easier than cutting the emotional bonds. He sighed. How often had he
tried to imagine his leaving? He intentionally refrained from computing the
number. But one thing was certain; he had hoped that *if* he had to leave his
father's house it would be with dignity and his head held up proudly instead of
sneaking away in the night like a thief. But Sarek had not left him any other
choice. If he waited until morning the situation would just grow more
complicated. He retrieved a disc containing a test program he had once written
and then grabbed the bag someone had placed beside the door. For an instant he
wondered why Sarek had not yet re-packed it for him if he was so sure he would
go to Gol and would need other things than those
originally in the bag. He shoved sarcasm aside. It merely caused anger and would
lead him to make mistakes. Now was the time to act.
Silently he opened the
door of his room. The hall was deserted and dark but he found his way and
walked to the study like a ghost. He knew Sarek's computer console was never
shut down completely so he wasn't surprised when the lights at the desk lit up
when he took a seat. He slid in the disc he had brought from his room and gave
the reboot command. He tensely watched the machine performed his order. He had
seen this virus working with other stations but for an instant he wondered if
his program was suitable to intercept this machine's boot procedure too. A
smile appeared on his lips when the trick worked. Nevertheless it took him
considerable time and effort to sneak into the machine's user profiles. After
entering a new profile that would allow him full access to the computer system,
he began adapting the code of the second program he had written long ago. Who
would have thought he would need it to escape his own home back then?! The
shutdown of the security systems proved to be more difficult than expected and
when he consulted his time sense he realizes he would have to hurry if he wanted
his departure completed before dawn.
"No mistakes
now," he muttered to himself when his manipulation of the security system
reached the critical phase. He breathed deeply and hesitated a moment before
confirming his order. If the key sequence he had prepared worked, the computer
would execute his manipulation program. If not, an alert would be triggered.
"System
ready.
Command execute?" asked the computer in a pleasant voice. Sybok bit his
lip and studied the monitor that showed him the same question in green letters.
"Execute," he
almost whispered and unthinkingly he gripped the armrests of the seat. He
nervously tapped his foot while the display changed.
"Working," the
computer said and seemed to wait torturously long to display the results.
"Code accepted," the machine finally replied.
A feeling of triumph
coursed through Sybok and he didn't make an attempt to control it. The force
fields would disappear soon. It would only be a matter of minutes now until a
fatal error would cause the security system to shut down. He had made it! His
enthusiasm was assuaged when a wave of coldness followed the feeling of
victory. What if it didn't work? What if he had made an error and the alarm was
triggered when the system shut down? He took a look at the monitor. But it was
too late now to interfere. There was something else. What if someone in the
house was awake and had sensed his broadcast of triumph? What if Sarek had
heard it? He stood abruptly and snatched up his travel bag. Shutting down the
light he listened briefly and then he hurried to the door. The hall was still
silent and deserted. He hesitated just a split second and then set in motion.
When he passed the door to Spock's room, however, he stopped. Laying a hand
against the smooth surface of the door he was torn between the urge to see his
brother one last time and dreading the pain the impending separation would cause
him.
He wanted to retreat from
the door but pushed it open instead. Silently he went into the room and saw a
dark shadow lying on the bed. A soft smile played around the corners of his
mouth when he caught sight of his sleeping brother. Although surely upset by
the fight between him and Sarek, Spock had still retired as the obedient son
would. But as it was so often the case his behavior
bore a trait of rebellion beneath the layer or obvious obedience. He had gone
to bed fully clothed as if he were ready to get up at any time to accompany his
brother. Sybok ached at the thought of leaving Spock behind. All too often had
he seen the wistful gaze and the gleam in Spock's eyes when he watched the stars. So it was impossible for him not to know that Spock's
place was not on Vulcan. It was so obvious. He knew it and Spock knew it. But
Sarek, Sarek would have to learn it in time.
Sybok lowered his gaze
when he realized that his departure and freedom forged the chains that would
possibly confine Spock to Vulcan. With him gone Spock would be the only son of
Sarek and heir of a most influential clan. Sarek would make sure not to lose
another son and Spock might love his father too much to accept estrangement as
the only option. Only the confidence in Spock's strength enabled Sybok to turn
his back on these facts and the younger brother whose impending absence tore a
wound into his soul even now. But Spock would choose his way, as a Vulcan but
yet different, Sybok told himself. Strangely, though, this knowledge didn't
seem to ease the pain he felt. But he knew he could not stay. Too great was the
distance between his beliefs and the teachings his father expected him to
follow. If he stayed his body would live but his spirit would die. There was no
other way.
When he was about to turn
away, the force fields in front of the windows went out with a low popping
sound. Instantly Spock moved, disturbed in his light sleep. If he awakened he
might not be able to convince Spock not to follow him, Sybok thought.
Unthinkingly he extended his hand and laid it on Spock's forehead, touching his
brother's meldpoints with his fingertips. Gently but insistently
he pushed Spock's mind back into the safe confines of sleep. He felt unconscious
resistance but Spock's skills were no match for the techniques T'Rea had taught
her son. 'Forgive me, Brother' Sybok's thoughts gently whispered to the younger
mind when he made sure Spock would stay asleep for several hours to come.
'Forgive me,' he echoed and released his hold on Spock's mind. He stared down
at his seemingly peaceful, sleeping brother and remorse ate at him. He knew what
he had done was wrong. He had no permission to invade is brother's mind and take
control. He comforted himself with the knowledge that he had done no harm, just
prolonged Spock's sleep. Nevertheless, the uneasy feeling remained. With tightening
lips Sybok turned away from the bed. This emotional battle was draining his
strength, and he needed all his determination to do what he must.
Silently he left his
brother's room and without hesitation went to the front door. Since the
security system was offline he opened it easily and slipped outside. The night
air was crisp and clean when he stepped out of the gate that separated the
garden from the street. He breathed deeply like a prisoner who filled his lungs
with fresh outside air for the first time in very long years. Then he cast a
glance back. The house lay dark and quiet behind him. It was not too late. If he returned now... no. He had already made two steps too
far. He had manipulated Sarek's computer and had invaded Spock's mind. Both
facts would inevitably be detected when Sarek found his computer inoperative
the next morning and his younger son sleeping in. Eyes downcast and features
grim Sybok turned and disappeared in the darkness.
When Sarek
opened his eyes at precisely
Amanda cracked an eye
open due to the sudden feeling of trepidation disturbing her sleep. Her gaze
focused only in time to see the hem of Sarek's sleeping tunic flowing out of
her vision range when he strode to the door with long steps. "Sarek?
S' something wrong?" she slurred still half asleep. Surprisingly, though,
she didn't get an answer but heard him leaving their sleeping quarters instead.
She frowned and got up to retrieve her robe. Tying the belt she left their
bedroom and followed him. Rounding a corner she stopped abruptly a few feet
away from her husband. He stood in the doorframe of Sybok's room - unmoving.
She nervously licked her lips.
"What is it,
Sarek?" she ventured and saw his back tense upon hearing her voice as if
he had been oblivious to her presence until now. He didn't answer, just turned
his head so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye, a silent permission
for her to come closer.
Amanda bristled when she
saw part of his stony expression. She approached him and laid her hand on his
back while stepping beside him. The room was empty. A drawer at the desk stood
open as if someone had retrieved something but didn't bother to close it again.
Her gaze wandered further through the room and came to rest on the bed - it was
empty. A blink of silver caught her eye and she went past Sarek and picked up
the chain with the IDIC symbol. She held it in her palm and stared down on it
for an instant, slowly grasping the reason why it was lying here. She had no
doubts now that Sybok had left. When and how was yet unknown but there was no
doubt he was gone, the broken chain a symbol for the social bonds he had cut.
She bit her lip and turned back to Sarek to look at him. He was still standing
in the doorway seeming unable to digest the fact that the control over the
situation had been ripped from his hands.
"I am so sorry,
love," she said at a loss for better words to comfort him. She held out
the chain with the pendant. But he just stared dully at it and then abruptly
turned and left. Shortly after she heard the door to the study shut. Slowly her
hand dropped and she closed her fist around the pendant, pressing it to her
chest.
"You stupid
boy," she said softly, too shaken to be really mad at her step-son.
After a while she
followed Sarek and cautiously opened the door to the study. Upon entering she
heard the high clipped sound of breaking acryl. Sarek sat at his desk, his hand
closed around a small object. When he saw his wife he quickly put his hand out
of her view and disposed the remnants of whatever he had crushed in the trash
can. Amanda watched him warily. His eyes seemed to have sunken deeply into his
skull, the pale skin of his face drawn taut over his features. She could feel
the mixture of range and hurt seep through the bond.
"Sarek?" she
queried carefully.
His fiery gaze came to
rest on her. "My computer has been sabotaged, as I had suspected. The
communication console is still operative, however, and received a message from Sanil."
Amanda bit her lip. She
knew that name well. Sanil was the father of T'Lana, Sybok's betrothed. "What did he say?"
"He informed me that
my oldest son invaded his private grounds during the last night to take his
betrothed with him."
Amanda placed her hand
over her mouth, anticipating the worst outcome of such a confrontation.
"What happened?"
"Sybok left. T'Lana resides still at her family's estate. The betrothal
bond does no longer exist between her and Sybok, however."
Amanda's eyes grew wide.
"Did Sanil agree to this?"
Sarek's mouth twitched.
"Of course he did not. He was not made aware of this development until
this morning."
A rush of shock coursed
through Amanda. Sybok would not have severed the bond forcefully as result of
the hurt T'Lana's rejection must have caused him,
would he? She laid a hand to her chest. "He did not severe the bond
forcefully, did he?"
Sarek shook his head.
"No. They did so in mutual agreement."
"But there should be
no way to break the bond without assistance of a master."
Sarek's mouth twitched
again with the ghost of a sad smile. "Apparently my son and his betrothed
were skilled enough to perform the procedure themselves."
Amanda breathed a sigh of
relief. At least there had been no further violence. She couldn't help but feel
sorry for Sybok. He must feel rejected, not only by his father but also by his
intended bondmate. The two of them would have been a well formed match. But
Sybok had apparently overestimated T'Lana's wish to
align her path of life with these new circumstances. In this case there was
only one thing Sybok would do now. Her gaze met Sarek's and she knew that he
knew also.
"I have notified the
authorities. I have not received an answer yet, therefore I shall contact them again,"
Sarek said and without further attention to his wife he turned to the vid phone.
"What can they do?
He didn't commit a crime so they can not hold him back if he wants to
leave," Amanda reminded him. But Sarek didn't answer and so she left him
alone in the desperate but surely futile attempt to prevent the inevitable.
While Amanda
prepared for the day she marveled over the absurdity
of resuming her daily schedule as if nothing had happened. But there was
nothing else to be done. She fastened a chronometer around her wrist. Depending
on the time Sybok had left the house he could have reached the spaceport
already. Where did he think he was going? In a few years he would be of age for
marriage. Which ace could he have up his sleeve to circumvent that essential
problem? She shook her head lightly, dizzy from the thoughts chasing one
another. She tried to focus on her daily rhythm instead. Spock would be up
soon. She frowned and took another look at the chronometer on her wrist. He
should be up already. She froze in mid motion and cold spread from the middle
of her chest. What if Spock too…?
She hurried out of the
room and down the hall, pushing the door to Spock's room open without even
bothering to announce her entrance. She almost sobbed with relief when she saw
him lying on his bed. Concern hit directly after when she saw he still wore the
same clothes he did the day before and his hair was mussed and damp from sweat.
She hurried over to the bed and touched his shoulder, shaking him gently.
"Spock?" she
asked. "Wake up."
His head lolled from one
side to the other as if he heard her, but he couldn't wake up. Her concern grew
and she laid a hand on his forehead. His skin was damp but not hot, so he had
no fever. She frowned. She couldn't place these symptoms. She had never seen
him become ill without a fever. Besides, he had been fine the day before. She
called to Sarek over the bond but he didn't react. When he wouldn't come after
the second call she rose and hurried to the study. Sarek was still speaking to
someone on the vid phone. The speed of his words and
his clipped tone indicated his barely concealed ire. He didn't even look up
when Amanda entered. Instead his gaze seemed to bore a hole into the screen
before him.
"I regret, Mr.
Ambassador, your son has valid papers and is, by Vulcan definition, a legal
adult. I cannot give the command to take him into custody unless he has
committed a crime that demands his immediate arrest," a female voice
answered. "I have my regulations. There is nothing I can do for you,
sir."
"I see," Sarek
whispered tonelessly, and then cut the connection without another word.
Amanda had not really
paid attention to what had been said but nervously wrung her hands. As soon as
the connection was cut, the words blurted out. "Sarek, you must." she
said but stopped when Sarek turned away and just lifted a hand in an attempt to
silence her. The gesture baffled her just for an instant; however, this was
about Spock and he would listen. "You must have a look at Spock," she
tried again. "He's not up yet. He also looks ill but has no fever."
Sarek turned to her
slowly, his eyes holding a strange gleam. "Is he responsive if you speak
to him?"
Amanda frowned lightly.
"I think he hears me but he won't wake up."
Sarek rose smoothly and
left the room. She followed him and her eyes grew wide when she entered Spock's
room and saw her son sitting on the bed, eyes still half closed but more alert
than before. She pushed past Sarek and sat on the bed, taking Spock's hand and
reaching out to stroke back the damp hair from his forehead. But his features
creased and he recoiled from her touch. Suppressing her hurt she folded her
hands in her lap. "What is it dear? Are you ill?"
Spock blinked first at
Sarek who was watching him warily, then at Amanda. "No I am not ill,"
he rasped.
Sarek drew up to his full
height, the gesture not lost on his son. "Spock, I demand an
explanation."
Spock's gaze flickered
briefly to his mother. "I. I was up late into the night. The lack of
physical rest obviously caused my inner time sense to fail and thus I did not
wake at the proper time."
"But
what about your attire? Look at yourself," Amanda interjected. She
opened her mouth to continue but Sarek lifted a hand.
"I sincerely doubt
insufficient rest is able to impair on your inner time sense to that extent. I
know you better than that, Spock," Sarek dismissed Spock's explanation.
"I ask
forgiveness," Spock mumbled.
"Did you see your
brother last night?" Sarek finally asked straight forward.
Spock looked up.
"No," he answered. Although feeling a pang of guilt he told himself
that it was actually not a lie for he had not 'seen' Sybok, merely felt his
mental presence. "Where is he?" he asked.
Sarek clasped his hands
behind his back and walked a few steps. He stopped in front of the window and
stared outside. "Your brother manipulated the computer system and left
this house against my will. He is currently at Vulcan Space Central and is
about to board the next deep space flight." With his last words he turned
and Spock was not fast enough to conceal the searing pain he felt about his
brother's departure that found its expression in his misty eyes.
"If there had been
some incident that would demand Sybok's presence at Council, I would be able to
bring him back," Sarek said and watched Spock for a reaction. But the
youth kept his head down. "You show unmistakable signs of an artificially
induced sleep trance, Spock," he tried again, closing the net further on
Spock's weak explanation.
Spock's head snapped up
to met his father's stern gaze. He had not been fully aware what happened but
Sarek's thoughts seemed a possibility. But if he confirmed his father's
assumption Sybok would be brought back; the mere suspicion of having put
Spock's mind in a sleep trance without his consent was enough evidence to
warrant a formal interrogation. Part of Spock wished Sybok's return more than
anything else, but he couldn't do that. Sybok was not able to exist in the
suffocating atmosphere this life meant to him.
"Spock? I await an answer."
Spock collected all his
strength to meet his father's gaze firmly. "I did not perform meditation
last night because of the circumstances that accompanied the confrontation
between Sybok and you," he said and by the brief glint in Sarek's eyes he knew
he had succeeded in diverting Sarek's attention. "I also did not rest
well. I assume that these circumstances prolonged my sleep phase." It was not
a lie. He was fatigued and hadn't slept half of the night, disturbed by thoughts
and later by dreams. He had also been put under emotional strain by hearing the
fight between his brother and father. This must surely have affected him.
Besides, this was not the first time his inner time sense had failed after a
night of insufficient rest. He had, however, never had any difficulties waking up
at all. He could not entirely be sure whether Sybok had manipulated his sleep or
not, even if circumstantial evidence strongly pointed in this direction. He tried
to recall more clearly and play back the events of the night. He lay down to
wait until Sybok woke up. He wished to speak to him. At some time he had fallen
into a light but nightmare-plagued sleep. Then, he had only briefly felt the
brush of Sybok's mental presence and fell into a deep sleep until this morning.
A flicker of doubt crossed through him. Sybok could have merely touched his
mind and calmed him enough so that he could sleep, couldn't he? In fact, even
his message 'Forgive me' could be an apology for leaving him in general instead
of using mind techniques without Spock's permission.
"If what you say is
true, will you agree to a brief mental contact to assure me that you will not
be further influenced adversely?" Sarek asked challengingly, interrupting
Spock's thoughts.
Spock looked up. He had
his doubts about Sybok's motives but they were not strong enough to pinpoint
the true happenings and so he rather chose to assume the best of his brother's
intentions. "No, I must refuse," Spock decided. "The temporary
failure was a result of lack of discipline and rest. I have regained my full
capabilities; therefore, a mental contact is unnecessary."
For a moment the eyes of
father and son locked. Both of them knew Spock was hiding something that he
refused to tell. But as long as he refused to accuse his brother the
authorities could not be notified. He knew that and Sarek knew that. It was a
silent but harsh fight for endurance, but Spock did not yield.
Sarek's mouth tightened.
"As you wish," Sarek said tonelessly. After that he was silent for a
moment and an unidentifiable expression flickered in his eyes. Then he seemed
to bury whatever had surfaced. "Effective as of today I have only one
son," he continued. "He, who was known by the name Sybok
shall no longer be part of this family. The clan will refuse responsibility for
him the way he refused responsibility for the family."
Spock's eyes grew wide.
"Why would you do this?"
Sarek watched him calmly.
"The decision is not mine, but there is no other solution. The family
Council will seal the issue. Sybok violated several imperatives and since he
already broke society's rules once, he will easily cross this border again. He
also refuses to be disciplined. I have no choice than to report that to the
Council. There is nothing this family can do for him anymore," Sarek
finally said and left the room.
'But he didn't hurt me,
he meant no harm,' Spock wanted to call after his father but his own secrecy
muzzled him. What had not been done could not be justified. He closed his eyes
and lowered his head, not even looking up when he felt Amanda's hand stroke his
hair. Too stunned to apply his controls he leaned into her hand until he felt
the stabbing wound go numb. He did not dare to speculate how long it would take
him to heal. Would the family really do what Sarek predicted? Yes, they would.
From their point of view there was no logic in a family supporting a child that
rejected the family's care.
He straightened and
looked up at his mother when he felt Amanda's touch stop. The warm motherly
glance in her eyes was now accompanied by a disturbingly sharp expression.
"Are you sure you made the right decision?" she asked, her disapproval
palpable.
He lowered his eyes
briefly. "Don't ask me any further questions. Please."
"Why? Would you then
need to lie to me?" she asked, not letting him off the hook that easily.
He swallowed dryly.
"Given the circumstances that Sybok did not wish to live the life the clan
had planned for him, events unfolded as they must," he answered evasively.
"I disagree. That
was not your choice to make," she gave back. "You are young and
obviously you still have to learn how to tell right from wrong." He looked
up at her and she shook her head, forestalling a defiant answer. "I do not
speak about your brother, Spock. You know what I am speaking about."
Spock had no answer to
that and therefore he remained quiet.
At the end of
the day Sarek wearily sank on his meditation mat. He bowed his head, not ready
to begin the ritual. His brows drew together and he took a deep breath. He
doubted he would be able to find tranquility in meditation. Only habit drew him
to the chamber. Reaching into his pocket he took out the pendant Amanda had
given him earlier. Light and silvery it lay in his hand, unaware of the heavy
symbolic burden it carried. He stroked a thumb over the smooth surface, lost in
thought. Why had he been unable to prevent this? No matter how grave a crisis
of interstellar importance, he would solve it. But he would fail at holding his
family together! Almost reflexively he balled a fist around the pendant,
feeling the triangle hurting his skin. He welcomed the dull pain – it was light
compared to the agony of losing a child. It was true; Sybok and he had never
been particularly close. When Sybok came to live with them he had been too much
T'Rea's son already. Not even the masters had known
of her estrangement with the Vulcan way until it had been too late for her. Who
knew what she had taught and told Sybok during those years; what non-erasable
knowledge she had placed in his son.
But was it not wrong of
him to blame her alone? What had been *his* mistakes? Was it possible the
recent event had been avoidable? Did this rejection of his people's way
originate in his son or had he planted it in Sybok's heart in the role of a
father who asked too much? He lifted the other hand and rubbed his forehead and
eyes, as if he could brush off the disturbing thoughts. Rationality told him to
meditate but yet he couldn't. He continued to hold the pendant tight.
~*~
Amanda sat on the
terrace, a book in her lap. But she only skimmed through the pages, repeatedly
losing focus only to find herself staring beyond the garden wall into the
desert, her thoughts circling the same issue over and over. After starting to
read the same page for the fifth time she gave up, placed the book beside her
on the bench and tried to relax. The tranquil quality of the evening did
nothing to ease her upset state, however. She thought of Sybok. Where was he now?
She was sure Sarek would be able to compute the distance after they knew for
sure Sybok had boarded the deep space shuttle about eight hours ago. Sarek was
in meditation and Spock had also retreated to his room after coming home from
having spent the day in the school library. Sometimes she sorely missed the opportunity
to speak to a friend. Then she frowned. Sarek was in meditation but. shouldn't they be together? She was sick of him shutting her
out. She was still his wife and should be there for him; they should support
each other. Her place was at his side instead of both suffering alone.
Determined she got up and
went inside. After putting the book back to its place in the library she headed
straight for the study and approached the door to the meditation chamber. The
nearer she drew to the door the more her determination lessened. Should she
really disturb him? She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but then laid her
palm flat against the cool surface. To her surprise she felt Sarek's thoughts
flare up and allow her entrance. Carefully she opened the door and peered into
the room that was lit only by the reddish hue of the firepot.
Sarek kneeled with his back to her on his meditation mat, his legs folded
beneath him in the proper position for meditation. After closing the door she
approached him with light steps and sat on the mat beside him to study his profile
that was illuminated by the flickering light of the flames. The deep lines
creasing his features told her he was not finding any rest today. His eyes glowed
like coals - no, she corrected herself when he slowly turned his head to look
at her. They had just been reflecting the gleam and were now clouded and dull.
Her heart ached to see him that way.
Why must people make
gross mistakes no matter how well meant the initial intention? She had no doubt
Sarek wanted the best for his sons, yet he was unable to provide it. She caught
sight of his clenched fist and extended a hand to place it on his closed
fingers, the tone of her skin pale in contrast to the dark olive hue of his.
What only a few people might be able to do forcefully she did with one touch
and his fingers opened under hers. She saw the pendant lying in his hand, the
triangle having left marks in the skin of his palm.
She touched the pendant
with a finger tip, then laid her hand flat atop his, sandwiching the pendant
between. She lifted her gaze and saw the question in his eyes. 'Where did I go
wrong?'
She shook her head
lightly. "I wish I could tell you, love. Maybe in all
things, maybe in nothing."
She could see the answer
didn't satisfy him. For a fleeting moment she remembered Spock's expression in
the garden the day before. It struck her how alike they were - and yet so
different.
"I suppose there was
nothing more you could do. You saw to it that he learned the proper
disciplines, got the proper science education. How could you
know what would happen?"
He returned his gaze to
the firepot. "It is possible I overlooked the
signs for too long."
"That wouldn't have
changed anything," she gave back. "The outward signs were just the
tip of the iceberg. When they appeared it was already too late. Don't blame
yourself."
"He is still a
child," Sarek answered, his gaze far away. "He does not know what he
is doing to himself. It would have been my place to guide him."
Amanda pursed her lips.
"According to Vulcan law Sybok became an adult after successfully
completing his kas wan."
Sarek's forehead creased.
"You know the rather symbolic status of this event."
Amanda's brows rose.
"Nevertheless it's legit and by law they are not children anymore after
it."
"They do not have
enough mental maturity to go without guidance of the clan at that age. Sybok is
not past the need for guidance for decades to come."
She squeezed his hand
lightly. "I know, but." she paused and waited until he looked at her,
"Sybok made his decision. You can do nothing more than offer support. And
you did, even if it was not the support he had hoped for."
Again he looked away and
she lifted a hand and tenderly stroked his cheek, turning his face back to her.
She was unable to tell single thoughts apart from the flow of activity that
surged through his mind but the general impression was still that he had
failed. She framed his face with her hands and leaned forward to place a tender
kiss on his lips. Then she sat back and studied him, still holding his face.
"Has it ever occurred to you that you did not fail to understand him but
that he failed to understand you? You might have been stern with him but he
complied, giving you no indication of his dissatisfaction until it was too
late. What happened is not only one person's fault. It is terrible but he bears
as much responsibility for it as you do." He opened his mouth to answer
but she silenced him with another kiss. "Take your time and think about it.
But don't let yourself suffer for something that was beyond your control."
Then she rose and left, leaving Sarek to his brooding thoughts.
When he was alone he
looked at the pendant again, mourning the son who had worn it. If Sybok had
just stayed on Vulcan the matter could have been discussed further. But with
his departure he had sealed his fate. The vote was not completed yet but
chances were good that the family elders would declare him outcast.
The muscles in Sarek's
jaws worked hard. After a long debate he seemed to have lost again. He would know
for sure the next day. He lifted his gaze to stare into the firepot.
But one thing was sure already. Fate had taken a child from him, but it had
also offered him a chance. He would not lose another son. Maybe he had been too
negligent in observing Sybok's progress, educational as well as social. That
would not happen again. He knew now which matters to take care of. With his
secrecy Spock had already begun to follow in Sybok's tracks. That had to be
prevented at all costs.
Sarek closed his hand
around the pendant to seal the silent promise. One day Spock would wear the
IDIC with dignity and the pride of his father. Of that he had no doubt.
THE END