TIMES OF TROUBLE    By: M. C. Pehrson

The news was on. Across the dimly lit room, images moved upon a screen, but the two men studying a 3-dimensional chessboard paid little attention to it. Occasionally, one or the other glanced toward two little girls playing with dolls in a corner of Jim Kirk's living room. T'Naisa and Antonia had gone into town for some early Christmas shopping, leaving seven-year-old Tru and Tess-who was almost two-in the care of their fathers.

As Spock's eyes focused on his trapped knight, a shift in the news caught his attention.

"Today on Vulcan," spoke the announcer, "Ambassador Sarek, a well-known voice for reason, was upbraided by the High Council of Elders for speaking out against the new round of anti-Yanashite laws. Political tension continues to run high. The economic sanctions levelled against Vulcan by the Federation Council have brought rumblings of war..."

Inwardly, Spock cringed. "Screen off," he said in a terse manner, and the wall screen went dark.

Startled, Jim glanced up from the game and eyed him. "War," he mused. "Who are they kidding? Vulcans would never launch an attack against the Federation."

"In the view of some," Spock pointed out, "the recent sanctions are an attack on Vulcan sovereignty."

"The way they're oppressing Yanashites, what did they expect?"

Spock conceded the imminent loss of his knight, and chose to move his queen. "According to the Traditionalists, we Yanashites are provocateurs who so fly in the face of tradition that we inflame even reasonable men and women."

Jim huffed. "Their so-called ‘reasonable men and women' are nothing but terrorists. The Traditionalists do violence to peaceful Yanashites, and it's the Yanashites who are being punished. I'd call that backward logic."

Spock watched Jim capture his knight. "Logic with no firm moral basis can be stretched to excuse even heinous acts. In the present mood on Vulcan, I would not be surprised if the High Council carries out its threat and withdraws from the Federation. As for armed conflict? If Vulcans feel cornered, they may indeed lash out in unpleasant ways."

Jim laughed. "What, they'll all raise their eyebrows in unison?"

Annoyed to an unusual extent, Spock pushed back his chair from the table. "I see no cause for humor. Are you forgetting Vulcan's savage history? That, coupled with a cold Golish outlook does not bode well. Vulcan terrorists almost ended T'Naisa's life. When they failed to kill her, they used nanobots to make her into their agent. Who is to say that such terrorism could not spread even beyond their planet?"

"Dad." Tru came up beside Jim and laid her head on his shoulder. "Daddy, I'm afraid."

Jim put an arm around his daughter. "Afraid? Of what?"

Her eyes were large with apprehension. "I don't want you to go."

"Go where?"

"Back on the starship...to fight the bad Vulcans."

Jim met Spock's gaze. "I'm through with starships, honey. And there aren't any bad Vulcans around here."

Feeling left out, little Tess began to tug at Spock's leg. "Dada," she said, "pick me up."

"Please," Spock told her.

"Please, Dada," she compliantly repeated.

As Spock settled her onto his lap, she unexpectedly thrust out an arm and knocked most of the chessmen over.

Jim sighed. "So much for the game."

Spock removed a pawn from his daughter's grip. "Not necessarily. I remember their placement, precisely."

"But I don't, and although I'm sure you'd never dream of cheating, let's just call it quits." With a twinkle in his eye, Jim added, "You know I was on the verge of beating you, anyway."

Spock's sense of annoyance deepened to such an extent that he decided to meditate as soon as he went home.

***

Soon after the first of the year, Spock received a summons to appear before the Federation Council, and T'Naisa was not pleased.

"Spock," she fumed, "you're a Yanashite envoy and educator, not a politician."

He came very close to laughing, but contained his amusement to a half smile. "You rather sound like Doctor McCoy. T'Naisa, considering current galactic events, I must expect to be drawn into the political fray."

"Well, I don't," she said adamantly.

"Sorel himself would come," he reminded her, "if it were at all possible. Unfortunately, current Vulcan law would deny him re-entry."

"The Vulcan High Council would love that. Sorel, chief Yanashite in exile with the rest of us."

"Patience," Spock counseled. "Ultimately it is the Shiav who is in control. If he wants me to speak before the Federation Council, I will do my best to represent him." And taking hold of her hands, he gazed into her expressive brown eyes and promised, "I will not be gone very long."

***

Following the disintegration of the Pacific Coast, all offices of the Federation had been relocated to Paris, where the president already resided. Security was heavy. Spock scarcely had time to settle into his assigned quarters before an aide directed him to a committee room where others had gathered to debate the Vulcan question. Among those present was Sarek, Ambassador Emeritus of Vulcan.

Spock worked to calm himself. He had not realized his father would be a participant. During the introductions, Sarek stared into empty space, his craggy face devoid of all expression. He looked frail and tautly controlled. The tension between them would complicate negotiations, but they were both mature men, capable of dealing with adverse circumstances. On Vulcan, Sarek had been censured for his moderation. He was not as radical as some Traditionalists. Perhaps the two of them would even find some common ground. Even so, Spock found the day difficult. He had expected to gather in the main council hall, not sit at a table across from his estranged father. His thoughts occasionally drifted back to their final confrontation at the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco, where Sarek rejected Spock's attempt at reconciliation. Since that wrenching day, not a word had passed between them. According to the news, Sarek had remarried-a human, like Spock's mother-the senior cultural liaison serving the new Vulcan Embassy in Phoenix. Like a good Vulcan wife, she had followed him back to his home planet.

Spock was thinking of his mother, Amanda Grayson, when the moderator called upon him to speak. Mother's last words to him had been, "Go with God". She would have understood his spiritual journey. She would have been pleased by his commitment to the Shiav. But as he spoke for the civil rights of Yanashites, he could sense Sarek's repugnance. Sarek might hold politically tolerant views, yet he still abhorred Spock's involvement with the sect.   

At recess Sarek abruptly left the room, and so it continued throughout each session. On the fifth day, Vulcan officially accepted the compromise reached by the committee. For now, Yanashites were free to travel home, and the economic sanctions against Vulcan were set aside. As the committee disbanded, Spock approached Sarek, who was heading for the door.

"Father," he said.

Without so much as a glance, the silver-haired ambassador coldly passed him by and disappeared into the hallway. Though the rejection came as no surprise, it still stung. Spock held onto his composure and returned to his quarters to pack. He had just completed his travel preparations when the door chime sounded.

"Enter," he said.

A woman stepped into the room and the door closed behind her. The middle-aged human was fair-haired and comely, but the disapproval in her amber eyes could only mean trouble. Spock recognized his father's wife from news clips.

Surely she did not expect him to call her "mother", so he inclined his head and said, "Greetings, Perrin."

"You know my name." The words were terse, sardonic. "I wonder. Do you remember your father's name? On Vulcan, Sarek spoke out for reason and was soundly criticized. Through it all, you have never once contacted him, never offered him even a crumb of appreciation."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "He has complained of this?"

"Sarek complain? He hides his feelings for you behind a rigid wall, but I've glimpsed the pain in his eyes...and in his mind."

"It is a pain of his own making. I am a Yanashite. He must accept it."

"You are his son!" Perrin said angrily.

Spock's own temper stirred. "You would do well to remind Sarek of that fact. The breach between us is his doing, not mine."

She shook her head. "I can't believe that."

"You accuse me of a lie?"

At that, she fell silent. Stepping closer, she studied his face. "Then if what you're saying is true, he must have good reason. What have you done to him?"

"I have followed the dictates of my own conscience, instead of his. My father can be very controlling." And he could not resist adding, "Perhaps that is why he prefers compliant Earth women."

The amber of Perrin's eyes turned to flame. Spock suspected that she would have liked to slap his face, and he may well have returned the attention. To her credit, she controlled herself.

Through clenched teeth she declared, "My husband is a reasonable man."

"Is he?"

Her hands balled into fists. "You are insufferable! If this is an example of a Yanashite, maybe Vulcan is better off without them!"

Spock felt his control slipping as he asked, "Can any human decide what is best for Vulcan?"

Perrin reached out and jabbed a finger in his chest. "Well then, Spock, that leaves you out, too, doesn't it?" Turning on her heels, she stalked from the room.

In the wake of her departure, Spock worked to calm his rioting emotions. He was not pleased with his behavior. Trading insults with Sarek's wife would do nothing to heal the rift between him and his father.

Taking up his valise, he left the room. In the hallway, an impeccably dressed human male passed him by. Something deep in Spock's mind jogged. Security was extremely high at the conference. He knew the domestic workers by sight, and no one else was permitted in this wing of the building. The man walking past was not among them. Yet...somehow...he seemed vaguely familiar. Rapidly consulting his memory, he set out to follow him, keeping a distance of twenty paces.

The stranger came to a door and put his right hand in a pocket before pressing the door chime. The door swung open on its old-fashioned hinges, and Spock heard Perrin say, "Yes?"

The man spoke with a French accent. "I have a private communique for the ambassador...from his son."

Perrin was quick to reply, "Sarek has no interest in..."

"Oh, but Sarek will," he interrupted. "Please, madam..."

In the moment of confusion Spock remembered the man's identity. Dropping his valise, he ran toward Peter Clive as the wanted CUE agent pushed his way into the room. Spock arrived in time to see his father rising from an upholstered chair. Perrin stood to one side as Clive's right hand rose from his pocket, gripping a strange-looking device.

Coming from behind, Spock struck at his arm. Clive maintained his hold on the weapon and whirled. And fired.

There was but the faintest of sounds, a barely discernable flash of motion, and Spock experienced a sharp pain between his ribs. He took one step...and dropped. Strange, that his mind continued to function, recording every detail of the action around him. Perrin's cry of dismay. Sarek felling the assailant with a nerve pinch.

Less than a minute passed, during which Spock also realized that all but his heart and mind was settling into complete paralysis. He could not seem to get enough air, and began to gasp.  At the end of a minute his diaphragm seized completely, and as his lungs starved, he knew he was going to die.

The room faded from view, yet he still heard voices. Sarek and Perrin...shouting instructions.

Strong hands settled on his chest and began to pump rhythmically, expelling air from his lungs and refilling them, over and over. Rising back to the edge of consciousness, Spock looked into his father's face and saw tears welling as Sarek worked to save him from the unknown toxin. Fascinated, Spock watched a single tear slip Sarek's control and roll down his face. Then darkness claimed him again.

***

An hallucination? Lying in the emergency room of Saint-Antoine hospital, Spock had ample time to wonder about that tear. Now that the paralyzing curare was out of his system, he was off the respirator and breathing on his own. As he was awaiting discharge, Sarek and Perrin came to take their leave before returning to Vulcan.

"I thank you," Sarek said with flawless composure. "If you had not grown suspicious of that man..."

"And I thank you," Spock countered, "for sustaining my life until the emergency team arrived."

It was the extent of their conversation, but Sarek had not only saved his life, he had accompanied him to the hospital and remained nearby to monitor his condition and handle questions from the local gendarmes and Federation agents.

Perrin voiced a desire to speak privately with Spock. After Sarek left, she turned her cool amber eyes on him and said, "Well, it would seem that you gave some thought to my words, after all. I only hope that you continue to treat your father with appropriate respect."

Spock held back a sharp retort. The curare had left him in a weakened, nauseous state, and he had no desire to continue their argument. He merely said, "You care deeply for Sarek."

She nodded. "And your actions today proved that you harbor some scrap of feeling for him, too. Or was it merely a matter of logic?"

How little she knew of him. In reply he said, "Yanashites are not bound only by logic." And so ended the conversation.

***

How good it was to return home. T'Naisa stood waiting with Tess when Spock stepped from the Plum Creek transporter booth.

"Dada!" Tess cried out with childish enthusiasm. "I missed you!"

Spock lifted his little daughter into his arms and received T'Naisa's welcoming embrace. Together they walked out into the clearing, toward the mountain cabin that had been their home for more than three years. The air was cold and fresh and still. An occasional flake of snow drifted from the overcast sky.

Inside the cabin, Spock set Tess on her feet and the child headed over to a musical toy.

"So how did it go?" T'Naisa asked.

The need for confidentiality was over. Spock settled onto the sofa with T'Naisa and briefly explained how the agreement had been reached. Then, out of necessity, he told her about thwarting the attack on Sarek, for it would soon be in the news.

Her jaw dropped. "You got hit with curare? You could have died!"

He reassured her with a touch. "There was never any real danger, as long as they maintained pulmonary resuscitation. The curare soon wore off and my diaphragm was functioning again. I am perfectly well now."

"You look exhausted," she said. "Let me get you some tea."

He nodded.

After returning with a steaming mug, she resumed the conversation. "So Sarek talked to you...and his new wife, was she there, too?"

Spock preferred not to speak of his unpleasant encounters with Perrin. Sipping the tea, he said, "Yes, Father broke his silence. It was he who kept me breathing until the EMTs took over. I...just a moment..." And he had to admit, "I am finding it rather difficult to follow my train of thought. No doubt an aftereffect of the poison...but it seems as if..."

"Yes?" T'Naisa's voice drew him back into the present. Her brown eyes were full of concern.

"I..." He hesitated to say it. "I feel as if...as if I have forgotten something of importance."

"You? Forget something?" She smiled, but then the smile waned as she glanced around the room. "Wait a minute. Where's your valise?"

Spock put a hand to his forehead and concentrated. He had come straight from the hospital, never giving a thought to his luggage. "I...dropped it when I ran to help my father."

"Don't worry then," she said quickly, "they'll send it on." Perhaps sensing his disquiet over the lapse, she attempted to steer the conversation back to Perrin. "So...Sarek's new wife is human?"

Only half listening, he nodded. It annoyed him that he had forgotten something so fundamental as his own luggage. A Vulcan's memory recorded every moment in perfect detail. A Vulcan never had to make lists or keep schedules. A Vulcan never forgot.

T'Naisa leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Hello. Are you there?"

An inexplicable surge of anger brought him to his feet so quickly that his tea spilled on his clothes. Across the room, Tess dropped her toy and stared at him. Abruptly he said, "Why is it so hot in here?"

"Hot...?" T'Naisa's voice faltered. "Spock, it's barely one hundred degrees."

Bringing himself under control, he set down his mug and faced his wife. The poisoning must have affected him more than he realized. As he looked upon T'Naisa, he was thankful not only for her goodness and beauty, but also for the fact that she was a halfling like himself. In their marriage, they had achieved a degree of harmony that made their home a true haven of peace and understanding.

"It would seem," he said contritely, "that I have not quite recovered, after all."

His words did little to relieve the worry in her eyes, and deep in his own heart there was disquiet.

***

In mid-January, the snow began to fall in earnest. Storm after storm pummeled the Sawtooth Mountains, leaving Plum Creek buried in drifts that sometimes reached the top of the windows and trapped the horses in their stable. Each morning, Jamie wielded a snow blaster, opening a path to the seminary, clearing the corral, and uncovering the skimmer for another day. And still the snow drifted down, until even Tess lost her fascination with the wet icy flakes, and preferred the comfort of indoors. When severe blizzards closed the schools, Jamie pulled out the leather and wood he was using to make snowshoes like those of his Native American friend, Lame Wolf.

Though Jamie was still reed-thin, he had grown strong and tall, and at sixteen was a self-reliant young man. One quiet evening he said, "Father, if these snowshoes are ready in time, can I hike over to Uncle Jim's place on Saturday? There might be a stretch of clear weather."

Spock glanced up from the computer where he was about to place an order for Jamie's hay, along with a few items of his own. Then he saw that he had already submitted the order that morning. Staring at the screen, he pointed out, "It would take half the day."

"I could spend the night with Lame Wolf," Jamie said, "and go to Mass with Antonia in the morning. She could drop me back home afterwards."

"While we tend to your work, as well as our own?" Spock said dryly and blanked the screen. "Caring for your horses and your dog, for the snow is too deep for Dusty to travel."

Across the room, T'Naisa noticed the change in Spock's tone and looked up from her padd. Perhaps it was a touch of "cabin fever", but a strain seemed to be developing between Jamie and his father. Quietly she said, "I wouldn't mind taking care of them."

"Thanks, T'Naisa," Jamie said with a smile. He turned to Spock. "Father, is it okay, then? Can I?"

Spock sighed and glanced back at the computer. "Very well."

After school the next day, Jamie bounded into the kitchen where T'Naisa was busy at the stove. "Two bales of hay!" he lamented. "It was supposed to be twelve; they got the order wrong!"

T'Naisa wiped her hands, went to the computer, and called up the order. The feed company was not in error. Spock had entered two bales on the form. She shrugged. "Here, I'll fix it." Then a sudden thought occurred to her. "Jamie, don't mention it to him, alright?"

By evening, the rest of the hay was safely stacked in a corner of the stable. A fresh storm was blowing in. The wind wailed around the cabin, driving its icy breath through every crack in the old structure. T'Naisa raised the heat. At bedtime, she make sure Tess was warm in the little room they had recently added for her, then climbed into bed beside Spock. The sound of a gale usually excited her, but this time she felt uneasy.

Spock must have sensed it, for he touched her in the darkness and said, "Frightened?"

She went to him and he began the Vulcan hand-play that led to intimacies of a deeper nature, then they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Shortly after 2:00 AM she awoke, shivering. Spock had moved away from her and thrown back the covers, leaving their bare skin exposed. As she drew up the blankets, he mumbled something before awakening with a start.

"You must have been dreaming," she whispered. "Aren't you cold? You uncovered us."

"Cold?" In the darkness, he turned his head toward her. "No, I'm not cold. I was dreaming about my grandfather Skon...and the day I found out that he had killed himself."

"Because he was diagnosed with plakir-fee." She remembered the story.

"Yes. I was quite young...but I..." His voice broke.

As he rolled away from her, she had the distinct feeling that he was crying. The wind howled loudly and a prickling fear crept back over her.

***

Later in the week, T'Naisa was in the seminary building when one of their Vulcan students approached her. At his request, they went to the office, where Duvek sat with tears in his dark eyes. Though he was thirty-four, he appeared much younger, and T'Naisa's heart went out to him.

Gently she asked, "What is troubling you? Are you homesick for Vulcan?"

It seemed as if Duvek could not bring himself to speak, but finally he said, "Your husband..."

T'Naisa's stomach tightened. "Yes?"

Duvek struggled for control. "Is...is he planning to expel me?"

The words evoked still more sympathy from T'Naisa, for she had been expelled from Starfleet Academy for misbehavior. In all honesty she said, "Spock has mentioned nothing to me about it. Let me check your file."

The desktop computer showed a clean record and high academic achievement.

"I see no problem," T'Naisa told him with an encouraging smile. "What makes you think Spock might expel you?"

Duvek struggled to speak. "He...mocked me. In front of the other student. Later, when I asked him why he had treated me unkindly, he said..." He swallowed hard. "Excuse the unseemly language, Mrs. S'chn T'gai, but he said that I was ‘too damn sensitive to be a priest'."

T'Naisa scarcely believed her ears, but Vulcans were not given to lying or even exaggeration. "Duvek. Are you sure you heard him correctly...?"

Duvek's gaze lowered to the floor. "His words were very clear. It is true. I am emotional, but did not Yanash encourage the healthy release of emotions?"

T'Naisa sadly nodded. "He did indeed."

***

Tess was on Spock's lap when T'Naisa finally found the courage to speak to him. The fact that it demanded courage troubled her. In the past she had felt free to approach her husband on any subject, knowing that he would listen carefully and respond in a considerate way. Since the curare incident she had begun to feel nervous around him. She watched for his mood before speaking, and seldom said what was really on her mind. Spock had changed, and if he sensed how it troubled her, he did not seem to care.

T'Naisa studied him as he sat helping Tess work the screen of a learning toy. He was the picture of fatherly patience, yet only this morning she had seen him snap at Tess when her play disturbed him.

"Spock," she said, standing nearby.

He looked up at her, one brow raised slightly and the hint of a smile on his lips.

Her heart pounding, she asked, "How are the seminarians doing?"

Without hesitation he answered, "Very well. I am quite pleased with their progress."

"Both of them?"

"Yes, both," he replied before Tess drew his attention back to her game screen.

T'Naisa watched them in silence. She could not bring herself to mention Duvek.

Later that night, as the snow flew, they made love again-a bit roughly-and T'Naisa wondered if this was only a touch of pon farr.

***

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear. Jamie came to breakfast carrying his snowshoes.

"Look, Father," he said proudly, "I finished them! The weather says no chance of snow before Monday. I want to hike over to Jim's ranch today. Alright?"

Spock glanced up from his plate and frowned. "May I," he tersely responded, "and the answer is no."

Jamie was astonished. "But...but you said I could...if the snowshoes were ready. We talked about it."

T'Naisa saw anger flash in her husband's eyes and braced for the coming storm.

"I said no such thing," Spock insisted. "To attempt a trek of that sort would be foolhardy."

"But Father, you did say it!" Jamie turned and appealed to T'Naisa. "Didn't he? You heard him!"

T'Naisa's heart raced. There was no chance to answer before Spock rose from his chair and squarely faced his son. "Enough, James! I suspect these pastimes of yours are only an excuse to shirk your studies."

Jamie gaped at him. "What do you mean? My grades are good!"

"They could be better."

"Spock," T'Naisa said in warning.

He ignored her.

Jamie's chest heaved as he confronted his father. "My grades were good enough last week! Why are you doing this to me? What's wrong with you?" Furious, he hurled the snowshoes to the floor.

In an instant, Spock stepped over to his son and slapped him soundly. Tess let out a frightened wail. Jamie's left hand went to his cheek. His right hand clenched, and for one terrible instant T'Naisa thought he would strike back at his father. Darting to her feet, she stepped between them, facing Jamie, her eyes pleading with him.

"Go," she urged, "go to your room."

"But I didn't do anything!" There were tears in his eyes and his voice quavered.

Now was not the time to discuss it. He had said it himself; something was terribly wrong with his father, but she dare not say that in front of Spock.

Abruptly Jamie stalked from the kitchen and went into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Spock remained standing as T'Naisa took Tess into her arms and tried to comfort her. A full minute passed before she could bring herself to look at her husband. He had not moved and now the anger in his eyes was directed at her. He seemed like a stranger. Would he slap her, too?

Regardless of the outcome, she said, "What is the matter with you?"

"Me!" he retorted. "If James showed me the proper respect...if you did not persist in coddling him...if you did not keep it so damn hot in here..."

He was, in fact, perspiring.

"Alright then," she retorted. Going to the nearest window, she slid it open. As the icy air rushed in, she asked, "Now what is your excuse?"

Holding Tess close, she hurried across the snowy clearing to the warmth of the seminary. Alone in the dimly lit temple, she sat weeping while Tess played among the benches. For a long time she poured out her heart to the Shiav, begging for the strength and wisdom that only he could give.

She was feeling a bit calmer when she heard the temple door open and slow footsteps came up the aisle.

"Dada all better?" Tess asked her father with childish honesty.

Spock settled onto the bench beside T'Naisa. Heart pounding, she focused on the icon portrait of Yanash above the altar and waited for him to speak.

Quietly he said, "I want you to call Doctor McCoy."

Surprised, T'Naisa turned and looked at him, but he would not meet her eyes. Call Doctor McCoy? Could he not trust himself to do even that?

Taking his hand, she asked, "Is it the pon farr?" Though she had no experience of that condition, she was aware that it made men irritable.

"No," he said low.

"Then it's from the curare. McCoy will know what to do."

Without a word he rose and left the temple. In the time it took T'Naisa to gather Tess into her arms and reach the cabin, he was nowhere to be found. She called to Jamie and they search the Plum Creek property together. When that proved unsuccessful, she finally thought of checking the Sanctuary transporter log. Only then did she realize that he had beamed off the mountain.

***

It seemed to Spock that he had been walking in the snow a very long time, circling the suburban neighborhood over and over again until he finally convinced himself that he had found the correct house. It was the color that confused him; yellow, not green as he remembered. The landscaping was different, too, but of course the address was unchanged.

Shivering with cold, he went up the walkway, cracked open the front door, and quietly entered. The sight of the antique, doily-covered furniture reassured him. It was warm inside, and so still that he could hear the breathing of a large gray cat on a sofa. The cat lifted its head and studied him with curious yellow eyes.

"Puff," he said, but some part of him knew it was not Puff.

He started down the hallway, to the room where he was staying with his mother. Photographs hung on the wall. One in particular caught his attention; a slim, dark-haired girl of mixed blood. It seemed that her name was T'Beth and she was his daughter, but of course that was impossible for he was only nine years old.

Shaking off the confusion, he opened the door of his room and relaxed somewhat. Little had changed here, except the bedspread. He was tired and cold, and the bed looked inviting. In a moment he had his wet shoes and socks off. Then climbing under the covers, he drifted into a troubled sleep.

***

T'Naisa tried to contact Doctor McCoy, but he was not receiving calls and there was no way of telling when he would find her message. In her fear she called her friend and neighbor Jim Kirk, but he did not take the situation very seriously. Jim reminded her that Vulcans were both prideful and solitary, and assured her that Spock would likely return to Plum Creek before dark, ready to resolve whatever trouble lay between them.

He laughed when she informed him that Spock had run off to Minneapolis. "Don't tell me his Aunt Doris is still around. Ask T'Beth. She probably knows."

T'Naisa had never met Spock's Aunt Doris, but T'Beth knew the lady well and said, "I lived with her in my teens. Father and I both keep in touch. I'll give her a call and see if he's there."

***

The chiming of a phone awakened Spock. He had left the bedroom door ajar and could hear Aunt Doris talking to someone. After a while the house grew silent. The cat walked into the room, jumped on the bed, and stared at him.

"Puff," he said, reaching out.

The cat sniffed his fingertips, then began to purr and rub its whiskered face against his hand. Secure in the knowledge that no one would see him, Spock smiled and said, "Nice kitty."

He realized he was hungry. He thought of the vegetarian casserole Aunt Doris had made last night, and wondered if there was any left. He also wondered where his cousins might be. Lester and Mikey only got quiet when they were into trouble, which usually involved making trouble for him, too. He wished his mother would get home from her friend's house soon. He wanted to go back to the embassy in San Francisco, where there were no young human cousins to bother him.

Suddenly he heard someone walking on the carpet in the hallway. A hand reached for the knob of the partly opened door.

Spock rose up on his elbow and said, "Mother?"

There was a sharp intake of breath. A woman peeked through the opening, her eyes wide with fear. She was very old, but even so, he recognized her.

"Aunt Doris," he said.

***

On the phone screen, T'Beth's face was tense with worry. "T'Naisa, I'm forwarding a call from Aunt Doris. Listen to this."

The elderly woman who appeared was deeply upset. "T'Beth...it's your father. I found him lying down in one of my bedrooms...he must have just wandered into the house. There's something the matter with him. He...he's asking for Amanda...for his mother. I don't know what to do."

T'Naisa had scarcely viewed the call when Doctor McCoy checked in, and she quickly explained the situation to him. In a matter of minutes, T'Naisa and McCoy met at Doris Breskin's home in Minneapolis. The poor woman was trembling.

"He must have lost his mind," Doris said, voicing T'Naisa's deepest fear.

"Well now," McCoy calmly drawled, "let's not go jumping to conclusions. Where is he?"

Doris' frail finger shook as she pointed down the hallway. T'Naisa and McCoy found Spock lying on his side in bed, but his was not a peaceful sleep. He jerked and muttered to himself as the doctor bent over him and ran a medscanner. McCoy frowned at the results.

"What is it?" T'Naisa whispered. Over the phone, she had reminded him about the poisoning. "Is it from the curare?"

McCoy led her back into the hall and quietly closed the bedroom door. Grim-faced, he said, "I'm admitting him to Starfleet Medical Center for further testing."

"But you haven't even talked to him."

"I don't need to."

T'Naisa felt sick with dread. "Doctor..."

McCoy gave her shoulder a compassionate touch. "I want you to tell me everything about him that has seemed unusual."

Once she began talking, the length of the list surprised even her; the irritability, the memory lapses, the repetitious behavior. Looking back, she realized that there had been subtle signs even before his trip to Paris.

McCoy sedated Spock for transport to Phoenix, where he was placed directly into a private room. T'Naisa and the doctor were at his side when he awakened and found himself in a hospital bed, wearing pajamas. 

Spock's eyes flamed at the sight of them. He abruptly sat up. "Doctor McCoy, what is the meaning of this? And T'Naisa Brandt! What are you doing here?"

Her heart seemed to rise in her throat and she could barely force out the words. "Spock...don't you remember me?"

"I most certainly remember you, Cadet Brandt!" He stood, swayed slightly, and then approached her in a menacing manner.

Doctor McCoy waved her toward the door. "Get out of here, T'Naisa. He's lost in the past." Tapping his com badge, he called for security.

T'Naisa backed a step, fully focused on Spock. Struggling to hold back her tears, she said, "You've forgotten your love for me..."

The declaration fueled Spock's anger. "Love! Doctor, I assure you, she is quite deluded. Where is my wife? Where is Lauren?"

To hear him call for his first wife was more than T'Naisa could bear, and she fled from the room. 

It was mutiny. Outrage came in searing waves that made Spock pull at his restraints until his wrists chafed, but he could not stop himself. Sometimes when he began to shout, a nurse closed the door of the room. Alone, he continued shouting protests until his throat felt raw and dry, but there was no way to reach the water at his bedside.

Doctor McCoy wheeled in a medical machine, positioned a hood approximately one meter above Spock's head, and turned it on.

"Where is Captain Kirk?" Spock hoarsely demanded. "What have you done to him? I am the first officer aboard this vessel and I order you to release me at once!"

McCoy stopped what he was doing and looked at him sadly. "Kirk is fine. The Enterprise is in Spacedock. You're sick and we're trying to help you."

Spock knew a lie when he heard one. McCoy had joined the mutineers and it was his job to keep Spock off the bridge. What had become of the captain? He attempted to calm himself, to think logically, but his mind was in turmoil. All at once he surmised the reason for it and was horrified at the prospect of renewed addiction. "You've drugged me! You have injected me with Saurian strardus!"

"God no," the chief surgeon replied, "none of that damn stardust. This is medication." 

Spock did not believe him. He could barely contain his helpless panic as McCoy took a sprayhypo off a side table and began to adjust its settings. "Wait," he said.

The traitorous doctor paused and met his eyes.

"I am thirsty," Spock told him, and it was true.

McCoy poured a glass of water and held it while Spock drank through a straw. Only Spock did not swallow all of it. As he laid his head back on the pillow, he spat the last mouthful into McCoy's startled face. And cursed him.

"Why, you..." McCoy began angrily, and Spock fully expected to be struck. But then the momentary shock left the doctor's face and he wiped himself dry on his sleeve. With a sigh he said, "Crude but effective, my Vulcan friend. I didn't know you had it in you."

Then he delivered the hypo and Spock relaxed into oblivion.

***

The quiet atmosphere in the hospital chapel helped restore a measure of peace to T'Naisa's anguished heart. Ultimately, God was in control. Whatever evil had befallen Spock, the Shiav would see that some good came out of it. Oh, but how it hurt!

Alone in a pew, she placed a phone call to Jamie, who had remained at Plum Creek to care for Tess and the animals. She asked him to tell Jim Kirk and the seminarians that Spock was in the Phoenix hospital, and to send a subspace message to Sorel on Vulcan asking for the Yanashites' prayers. As an afterthought, she asked him to contact Sarek, as well. Then she called T'Beth and Simon. They both lived nearby and rushed to the hospital.

T'Naisa was glad that she was no longer by herself. The bond connecting her to Spock had grown so dim and murky that she feared he was going to die. Mentally, he had already left her. She could not bear the thought of losing him completely.

The three of them sat silently at Spock's side, watching him rest under sedation. Earlier, Simon had anointed his father and offered Yanashite prayers for his healing. Now with tears in her eyes, T'Beth fingered the beads of a rosary while her lips moved silently. Simon leaned down and opened his violin case. He lifted the instrument to his shoulder and began to play softly.

Spock heard music and knew that his son was playing. He was proud of Simon's talent, but sometimes the schoolboy's behavior worried him. In bed, he turned toward Lauren, who had only recently become pregnant with twins, and saw that she was sleeping. Good. But there was too much on his own mind for sleep. He started to rise, and discovered that he was unable to move.

Around him, the darkness gave way to light. For a moment he lay blinking and confused.

The music stopped. Three grim faces appeared at his bedside. T'Naisa, T'Beth, Simon.

"What is this?" he asked. "Where am I?"

T'Naisa hugged him around the neck and kissed his cheek. Through their bond, he sensed her deep unhappiness.

Drawing back, she asked thickly, "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course," he replied. He tried to reach out and touch her, but could not.

T'Beth saw his effort and placed her hand on his. "It's alright," she said. "Don't fight it. You've been a little...restless...and they needed to keep you in bed."

Spock felt the stirring of an uneasy memory. He met T'Naisa's anxious eyes. "You did as I said. You called McCoy."

She nodded. "He's trying to find out what's wrong. You keep...slipping in and out."

"Of consciousness?"

A tear rolled down her face and spattered on the bed. It put him in mind of Sarek...and then of James. He could still see the pain in his son's eyes as he struck him.

"Tell James...I am sorry."

"He knows," T'Naisa said. "He knows you didn't remember about the snowshoes. He knows you're sick. He's a good boy...home watching Tess, taking care of everything."

Feeling weary, Spock closed his eyes. When next he opened them, the room was full of dangerous strangers and he shouted at them until they left.

***

"Please. Sit down," Doctor McCoy said, having ushered the family into a consultation room.

He perched on the rolling stool that many doctors seemed to favor. Judging by his grave demeanor, T'Naisa assumed that he had reached a diagnosis and it was not favorable. As she waited for him to speak, her stomach twisted into a knot.

McCoy let out a sigh. "I've run a battery of tests and done some research on Spock's family history. He looks darn good for his age; one would think he's in his early forties instead of his eighties. As it turns out, he's known for years that he carries a certain genetic marker, as does his father, Sarek. This marker predisposes them to a disease that sometimes strikes Vulcans as they age." He paused. "It affects the mind..."

T'Naisa swallowed against her fear. "Vulcan Dementia?"

He nodded. "It's called Bendii Syndrome."

She could not bear to sit still. Shaken by chills, she got up and began to move, pacing aimlessly while T'Beth and Simon sat stone-faced.

"But the news isn't all bad," McCoy announced. "Spock's human blood has made it hit earlier than usual, but that same humanness is a source of hope. There are medications we can try. With your permission, I'll start him on a regimen that's been successful in treating similar disorders."

"Human disorders," T'Naisa choked out.

McCoy's silence was answer enough.

T'Naisa gave permission to start treatment, then collapsed into a chair and wept. As the doctor left, T'Beth and Simon did their best to comfort her, but their own hearts were heavy with sorrow.

***

"Within a week", Doctor McCoy predicted.

They would know by then if the drugs were of any use. He explained the problem with Spock's brain in professional terms that held little meaning for T'Naisa. She knew only that her brilliant, beloved husband was rapidly losing his faculties.

T'Beth persuaded her to send for James and Tess, and they stayed in the guest cottage behind T'Beth's home. Jim Kirk took the Plum Creek animals to his ranch, and the seminarians went home. At Plum Creek, there was no one left to clear away the snow as it piled up to the eaves of the lonely little cabin.

Thinking of her home in the woods helped keep T'Naisa going. She reminded herself that she still had Spock's child; she still had Tess, who in herself was nothing short of a miracle. When the fear closed in, she held Tess tight and rocked her until the child protested.

At week's end, there was cause for hope.

"He's less agitated," McCoy reported," but still suffering considerable disorientation. Yesterday he called me ‘captain'; I guess he confused me with Jim."

T'Naisa said, "He's called James ‘Sybok', too. He seems better at identifying women. He always knows T'Beth."

"And you?"

Pain lanced her heart. "I usually take him into the past...to the bad old days when we were adversaries instead of bondmates."

"Try bringing Tess," he suggested. "His little daughter might help stimulate positive memories."

T'Naisa did not want to risk exposing Tess to her father's outbursts, but on the doctor's advice she carried the two-year-old into Spock's room the next day. Spock seemed to be sleeping. He appeared so completely normal that T'Naisa could not resist bending down and kissing his cheek lightly.

As she straightened, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, pretending that the fog had lifted from his mind and the bond between them was open.

Tess held out an arm to him and said, "Dada still sick." Pointing to the restraints holding his wrists, she added, "Ouchies."

Spock's gaze settled on Tess and for an instant it seemed to T'Naisa that he recognized her. Just then the door opened. Jim Kirk entered the room, and as Spock's attention moved to his old friend, his behavior shifted into military mode.

"Admiral," he said, "I was not aware that you were aboard the Enterprise." He cast T'Naisa an accusing glance. "Cadet Brandt. Why was I not informed of the admiral's presence?"

T'Naisa opened her mouth, unsure of what to say.

Assuming a smile, Jim slipped into the role of Starfleet admiral. "It was Chief Rand who beamed me aboard, remember? It's Christmas and I wanted to surprise you."

Spock frowned at him. "Christmas? No, Jim, you are mistaken. Christmas has come and gone."

Jim stepped closer to the bed. "That's right. What month is it...Earth calendar."

It was painful to watch Spock struggle with his confusion. "January?" he asked, then turned to T'Naisa. "Ashayam, is it still January?"

Her heart leaped. He had called her by an endearment that he favored. "Yes!" Reaching down, she rested her hand on his and she could feel the bond between them cracking open. "Yes, darling, it's still January. You're been hospitalized, but now you're starting to get better."

Perhaps it was a mistake to touch him when her own emotions were in such turmoil. Suddenly his eyes widened and his pupils dilated. She felt a storm of terror rising in him and drew back. Holding Tess tightly, she rushed from the room, leaving Jim alone to deal with Spock's latest outburst.

***

He woke up. Opening his eyes, Spock saw two young men sitting side by side in a shaft of sunlight streaming through a window. Although they were quite different in appearance, he knew that they were brothers and he recognized them as his sons. Lying still, he watched them carry on a quiet conversation about someone dear to them who was very ill. He did not consciously attempt to move his arms; like an animal, he had learned that it was less painful to stay within the approved boundaries, and seldom tested them. For that reason he was surprised when a hand rose up before his face. For a moment he stared at the splayed fingers, at the slight discoloration at the wrist, as if the limb belonged to someone else.

Simon and James noticed that he was awake, and came over to him with anxious eyes.

"Father," Simon said, wearing the distinctive green cape of a Yanashite priest.

Spock pulled himself up in bed. It felt good to move, but his body was weak from disuse. He asked, "What is this place?"

"Starfleet Medical Center...Phoenix."

Spock could not remember arriving at the hospital. He could not seem to recall anything beyond the moment when he struck James. He looked at the dark-haired teenager, expecting to find a bruise on his face, but the skin was unmarked. It was then he realized that considerable time had passed.

"You've been sick," James said.

Simon nudged his brother and the two exchanged a guarded look.

"Sick?" Spock questioned. "What manner of sickness?" Thinking of his father's medical history, he added, "Is it my heart?"

"I'll get Doctor McCoy," Simon responded. "He'll explain everything." And he left the room, taking James with him.

As the door slid shut, Spock heard a lock engaging.

***

T'Naisa had wanted to be present when Spock received the news about his condition; she made it clear to Doctor McCoy. But now that the moment had come, her courage faltered once again, and she prayed hard as she took her husband's hand and pressed it to her lips.

On the other side of the bed, McCoy pulled up a chair and prepared to answer every question honestly. Spock assumed that the problem was his heart, and said so.

"No, your heart is in fine shape," McCoy replied. "The problem is something else entirely." His eyes went misty and he wrestled over his words. "The problem...originates in your central nervous system. Certain trace elements...and their effect on the tissues of the brain. There were predisposing factors..."

Spock's hand clenched over T'Naisa's. She knew he was trying hard to control himself, but a sharp ripple of emotion broke through his mental barriers and jolted her; shock, dismay, fear. Silently she absorbed them in an act of love and support.

Under his breath, Spock said, "Bendii..."

T'Naisa's throat ached. "You're doing better now...so much better."

McCoy cleared his own throat and continued. "It came on rather quickly, so the damage was not as severe as it might have been."

Spock did not seem to be listening anymore. Turning his head aside, he closed his eyes.

T'Naisa cast a pleading look at McCoy, and the doctor continued in a soft, soothing voice. "Spock, I have you on some medications that have worked wonders. Your brain activity is close to normal again."

Spock's eyes flew open. "Close to normal," he repeated with heavy sarcasm.

McCoy's manner abruptly changed. "Yes!" he snapped, "you ungrateful son-of-a-bitch, close to normal! And that is one hell of an improvement over a couple of weeks ago. In fact, it's damn near a miracle. Thank God for your human genes; without them, it would be a very different story."

T'Naisa had never heard such harsh language from a doctor, but McCoy was more than Spock's physician; he was his friend. She could only hope that the dressing-down would have a positive effect. 

Reverting to a less confrontational tone, McCoy said, "Spock, the prognosis is hopeful. I'm not talking about an out-and-out cure, but taking a few pills a day should keep things under control."

"For now," Spock said despondently.

McCoy nodded. "All any of us have, is today."

"And an eternity in the next world," T'Naisa added, for just now it was a very comforting thought.

McCoy shrugged an eyebrow. "I'm a doctor, not a theologian. I'll leave that department to the two of you."

***

Spock returned home to find a plethora of "get well" messages awaiting him. That in itself was unsettling, but coming upon one from Sarek, he could no longer restrain his irritation.

Striding over to the kitchen, he confronted T'Naisa as she was preparing a special meal in his honor. "My father," he said. "You told him...and all those others, as well."

She dropped her mixing spoon into a bowl and gazed at him with maddening concern. "Well...of course. Friends and family. Everyone was worried about you."

"My...mental...state," he said, biting off each word, "is a private...matter. How could you not understand something so elemental?"

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm sorry. What would you have had me tell them? Lies? Is that the Vulcan way? The Yanashite way?"

He covered his face with his hands and struggled to contain his anger. T'Naisa touched his shoulder, bringing a fresh influx of her worry. He shrugged away from the disturbing contact and immediately regretted the action. He did not mean to hurt her.

Lowering his hands, he drew a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry. Perhaps I should attempt to meditate."

She forced a little smile. "Be patient with yourself, Spock."

He retreated into the bedroom, settled onto a meditation mat, and closed his eyes. Half an hour passed without achieving even the first level of mental serenity. Then the bedroom door opened, and looking up, he found Tess smiling at him.

"Hi, Dada," she said.

He beckoned to her. Tess ran over and threw herself into his arms. And as he held her close, something of her simple joy found its way into his heart.

***

"Sir?"

Duvek's quiet voice and raised forefinger captured Spock's attention. He had just dismissed his two seminarians for the day, but for some reason they remained at their desks, unmoving.

"Yes, Duvek," Spock acknowledged.

As always, he spoke with the utmost respect. "Sir. Was there not to have been...an examination?"

Of course! The weekly examination. How could he have forgotten? Scarcely a day went by without some memory lapse to embarrass him. If the affliction was meant to deepen his humility, God had chosen well. Intellectual pride was among a Vulcan's greatest failings.

For an instant, Spock was sorely tempted to tell his students that he had deliberately rescheduled the exam, but he rejected the lie. Instead he admitted, "My memory failed me. We will test on Monday morning." And he walked out the door.

Duvek hurried and caught up with him in the hallway.

"Sir." His brown eyes were very earnest. "Sir...perhaps it was wrong of me to speak out. I did not mean...that is to say...I wish to apologize."

"There is no need for an apology," Spock assured him. "Is it possible to be too conscientious, but such sensitivity will make you a good priest."

Duvek smiled.

Spock look leave of him and exited the seminary, but instead of going to the cabin, he took a path that led into the woods.

***

T'Naisa stood on the porch, Spock's discarded wrist phone in hand. Though the air was warm, stubborn traces of snow still clung to the deep shade beneath the pines at the edge of the clearing. Twilight was fast approaching, and Spock had not yet come home.

She tried to tell herself that there was no reason for concern. Since their return to Plum Creek, Spock often headed into the mountains without warning. Doctor McCoy said that the jaunts would help ease Spock's lingering depression and were therefore therapeutic. But each time Spock left, she could not help but resent the inconsiderate behavior that made her sick with worry.

Off in the woods, she heard a dog barking. A familiar mix of relief and anger flooded her. Springing off the porch, she headed toward the sound, into a thick grove of trees.

They met at a bend in the trail. Spock stopped with Jamie's dog cavorting at his heels.

"You could have told me you were going," T'Naisa burst out. "How would you feel if I just up and disappeared?"

He stiffened with his own share of anger; unjustifiable anger, in T'Naisa's view. Yet on an intellectual level she knew how a man valued his personal freedom. Rather than call him selfish, she held her tongue and brought herself under control.

Spock made no such attempt. "You need not have come looking for me," he said testily. "I am still capable of finding my own way home."

"Of course you are," she agreed, "but it upsets me when you stay out so long, as if...as if you would rather spend time with the dog, than with your own wife."

She wanted him to take her into his arms and reassure her of his love.

Instead, he exploded. "At least the dog accepts me as I am!"

Seeing her tears coming, he brushed past her and secluded himself in the temple until well after midnight.

***

A brilliant moon illuminated the clearing as Spock finally made his way back to the cabin. Beneath the porch light, Dusty greeted him with a friendly wag of his tail. The sight of the dog pained Spock, and he passed him by without acknowledging his presence. Inside, a single lamp shone in a corner of the living room. T'Naisa sat in its light, his overdue pills on the little table beside her.  

She would want to talk, and Spock knew that only an apology could heal the rift caused by his thoughtless behavior and cutting remarks. Thoughtless; the very concept was foreign to him. All his life he had tried to act in a considerate manner and frame his words carefully. Now, all too often, his words broke free from his control, hurting the very people he cherished the most. McCoy said it was only to be expected; that among family, one felt most free to be oneself. But the dementia had pulled away the layers of discipline to expose a self he did not like.

He went to the pills and swallowed them. Then setting aside his pride, he stood before his wife and said, "Time now for my daily admission of guilt. I do not know how you bear with me. In my present state I am not fit to be your husband."

T'Naisa bolted to her feet. "Because you're struggling? Spock, we all are; that's why we need the help of the Shiav. He's known us from before time began, our strengths and our weaknesses, yet he brought us into being and he brought us together." 

Taking hold of his hands, she gazed into his eyes and softly sang verses from an old song she favored, adding a touch or two of her own.

"Don't go changing, to try and please me

You never let me down before

Don't imagine you're too much worry

And I don't want you anymore

I would not leave you in times of trouble

We never could have come this far

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times

I love you just the way you are."

When she finished the moving lyrics, he told her shamelessly, "And I do love you, ashayam."

Taking his face into her hands, she promised, "We'll get through this together."

He wanted to believe her.

T'Naisa rose up and kissed his lips tenderly before asking, "Did you get any dinner at the seminary?"

"No," he admitted. Food had been far from his mind. "There really is no need..."

But she was already on her way to the kitchen. "I'll get you something," she said over her shoulder.

A short time later she returned to the living area, plate in hand, and found him lying fast asleep on the sofa.

***

One early June day Spock told his son, "James, to hear you, one would think that there is nothing else like it on Earth."

T'Naisa gave Spock's hand a conspiratorial squeeze and spoke to him with her eyes. The three of them stood by the horse corral while Tess napped in the cabin. The weather was summerlike, with unseasonable warmth forecast for the entire week ahead.

"There is nothing else like it," Jamie said with feeling. "That little valley in the high country...the place where I found Starburst...I just wish you could see it. I'd like to go back before my summer job starts."

Starburst pranced in the corral and shook her silky white mane. The leopard Appaloosa had grown into a beautiful young horse. Another year or so, and her back could bear the weight of a rider.

Spock gave T'Naisa a this-is-it glance and said, "James, I think you should go. In fact, I think we should all go...together."

James swung around and stared at his father with a mixture of astonishment and confusion. "Father...no offense, but I don't want to fly there in a skimmer. I want to ride in like I did before...on horseback."

Spock gathered himself. "I know how to ride. And as for T'Naisa, she rides as well as you."

"It'll be fun to camp out," T'Naisa said persuasively. "Antonia said she'll take care of Tess, and the seminarians are heading out on vacation. It's been such a long time since the three of us have done anything special together. Come on, Jamie, what do you say?"

He broke into a broad smile and hugged her. Then he looked at his father, and though Jamie had grown into a tall young man, he gave Spock a hug, too.

On a pleasant, sunny morning, they set out; Spock astride Biscuit, T'Naisa on Sultan, and Jamie on an Appaloosa borrowed from the Kirks. Old Paco had died during the winter, but a new burro named Poncho plodded after them, laden down with supplies. Dusty ran loose and sniffed at everything along the trail.

Only a few weeks ago, T'Naisa would never have attempted such an outing. Though some memory problems still plagued Spock, his depression had finally lifted, putting an end to the unpredictable outbursts that had disrupted the family. Once again, he was able to meditate effectively. It truly seemed as if the worst days were behind them, but both she and Spock knew that leaving the security of his normal environment would put his recovery to the test.

Jamie's direct route quickly took them into the high country. After a day of exquisite scenery, they camped near the waterfall where Jamie had spent the night with Lame Wolf after his first adventure in the hidden valley. They ate meal-packs around a campfire and bedded down after Spock set a perimeter shield to safeguard against predators. T'Naisa snuggled close to him in their double sleeping bag and they whispered in the dark until a pleasant weariness overtook her.

Morning brought an aroma of food. T'Naisa blinked the sleep from her eyes and found the men at the campfire cooking a hearty breakfast. She rose and ate her fill of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Then they broke camp and headed up the mountain.

Shortly before noon they entered the narrow cleft that led to Jamie's secret retreat. The slushy ground bore the hoof prints of wild horses that frequented the path. As they moved along, the cleft suddenly opened onto a wide ledge. T'Naisa caught her breath at the glorious vista before them. Snowy mountain peaks ringed a sheltered valley where a gemlike lake glistened amid green pastures. Puffy white clouds reflected on the serene surface of the water.

"Oh Jamie, it's amazing!" she cried.

"Indeed," Spock said. "So this is where you found Starburst."

At the northern end of the little valley, something could be seen moving near the trees. One by one, horses appeared and began to graze their way toward the lake. Jamie's fingers went to the lariat hanging from his saddle horn. "Look there! See the pinto? She's the one I told you about; the one I planned to rope last time, when I caught Uncle Jim's mare, instead."

Spock had noted the movement of Jamie's hand. Clearly taken by surprise, he said, "Surely you do not intend to bring back another horse."

"I sure do," Jamie answered with determination. "And she's gotten herself a new foal. Pure white!"

The foal was so young that it looked a bit wobbly beside its mother. Cute or not, T'Naisa fully expected Spock to object, but for now he remained silent. Perhaps he was reconciling himself to the fact that this son would never share his interest in the sciences and might be destined for some outdoor occupation.

As if sharing her thoughts, Jamie turned to Spock and said, "Father, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. It's about my plans for the future."

Spock regarded him with something less than enthusiasm.

Hoping to head off an argument, T'Naisa interjected, "That sounds like too heavy a subject for an empty stomach. I'm hungry. Let's go down into the valley and eat."

They made a camp at the base of the trail to prevent the wild horses from escaping before Jamie could try to claim his pinto. As they ate meal-packs, the clouds thickened a bit, overshadowing the valley. There was a rumble of thunder atop a mountain. T'Naisa watched Spock swallow his midday medication with some water, and wondered how he would react to Jamie's revelation. She did not relish the thought of an ugly scene here in the middle of nowhere.

Jamie set down his half-eaten meal-pack and cleared his throat. "Father...I know that I've been kind of disappointing to you. I look so Vulcan...so much like you...that you expect me to think like you."

"I have never said that," Spock protested, fork in hand.

"You didn't have to. I'm sorry I can't be more to your liking, but I have different interests. I've known what I want to do since last year, and I'm making plans for college."

Spock's right brow shot up and he lowered his meal-pak to his lap. "College?"

"Animal husbandry," T'Naisa guessed, knowing that her husband would not be pleased by such a choice.

Jamie shook his head. "No, Jim's taught me all I need to know in that department. I'm going to major in psychology and youth counseling. You see..." He cast a glance at his father and shifted nervously.

"Yes?" Spock prompted, obviously intrigued by his son's revelation.

Jamie pulled in a deep breath. His slanted brows drew together. "Lame Wolf and I are going to buy some land for a youth ranch. We're going to take in troubled boys and help them turn their lives around. It's...it's an interest that Teresa shared, too."

Taken aback, T'Naisa glanced at Spock. His face was devoid of expression, but finally he said, "I was not aware that your sister had such an interest."

Now it was Jamie who seemed surprised. "She...kept a diary. I saw it once...in your closet. Haven't you ever read it?"

T'Naisa suspected that Spock had never opened its pages and that it was more than a matter of respecting his deceased daughter's privacy. Coming across a distasteful entry would forever tarnish his pristine image of the girl.

"No," Spock admitted. "I have not."

"Well, she had a deep interest in helping children. You've provided such a good home for us, that...that I'd like to reach out to kids who are at-risk and give them some security, some stability. I want to take them into the country where they can put their hands on things that are alive and real. Things that heal the spirit."

T'Naisa expected Spock to retort that technology was very real, and that the hard sciences were as beneficial to mankind as the soft sciences. Then she remembered the many long hours she had wasted in worry while he roamed the woods by himself. Hadn't he found something in nature to soothe his own troubled heart? And what of this trip? It had been as much Spock's idea as hers, and she knew that he was taking pleasure in it.

"Father." Jamie's ever-deepening voice pleaded for understanding.

"A boy's ranch," Spock said without a touch of sarcasm. "It is a worthy endeavor. If all goes well, I may someday invest in your future enterprise."

T'Naisa's heart swelled with happiness as Jamie broke into a broad smile of relief. It was all she could do to keep from hugging Spock and showering him with kisses. Instead she merely said, "Good for you, Jamie. Good for both of you."

***

The passing clouds spattered a few drops of rain before drifting down the valley and releasing a deluge upon the lake. At nightfall, the moonless sky blazed with the light of countless stars, putting Spock in mind of his travels aboard the Enterprise. Rather than relive the memories in Bendii hallucinations, he spoke about them in a lucid manner.

"Do you miss those days?" T'Naisa asked him as they all sat together by a campfire.

"One lives in the present," he replied, "and there is much in the present that pleases me." Putting an arm around her slim waist, he drew her close beside him, conveying his affection with a discreet, well-ordered mindtouch. T'Naisa turned her head, and smiling into his eyes, understood how truly precious she was to him.

They slept at the base of the trail. In the morning there was a leisurely breakfast, and then they packed in preparation to leave. The sun's warmth helped dispel the chill of the high country as James leashed his dog to Poncho and prepared to capture the wild pinto of his dreams. He had set out earlier to locate the herd, and now he remounted.

"They're not far from here," he said from the saddle. "Head on up the trail and keep going. Once I get her, I'll be coming along in a hurry."

Spock took a small stun gun from his coat pocket and handed it to James. "I want you to use this on the stallion."

James pushed the dark, straight hair off his forehead. With a nod, he accepted the device and rode off toward the lake.

Spock and T'Naisa mounted. Spock took the lead, trailing Dusty and the burro as they started up the winding track. Partway to the top, he paused at a switchback that offered a panoramic view of the valley floor. Wild horses stood with their necks stretched to the lake water, drinking their fill. He saw James approaching from the north. A spotted stallion-the very image of his offspring, Starburst-lifted his head. An instant later he dropped into the grass, startling the mares nearest to him.

James urged his mount into a smooth, easy canter. Spock saw the rope begin to swing. The brown and white pinto heard him coming and turned her head in time to receive the well-thrown loop. Taken by surprise, she jerked her neck and reared, slashing at the air with her hooves, but the movements only served to tighten the snare. James secured the rope to his saddle horn, pivoted his horse, and took off for the trailhead. The captured pinto had no choice but to trot behind him. Her foal nickered loudly, and after a moment of confusion, decided to follow.

Spock was impressed with the display of his son's riding and roping skills.

"Well, there's your Vulcan cowboy," T'Naisa said with a laugh. "We better move on before he tramples us."

Spock urged his horse up the path. Loose pebbles clattered down a sheer drop, then the trail turned away from the valley rim and widened considerably. From below, he heard Jamie and his wild captive coming. One misstep on that narrow spot and the struggling pinto could fall over the edge, dragging Jamie along to his death. Spock resisted an urge to double back. There was nothing he could do but follow Jamie's instructions and clear the way. Regretting that he had not wished his son "good luck", he sent up a silent prayer and made it to the safety of the mountain cleft. T'Naisa emerged behind him on Sultan. Mere seconds later, James burst from the trail and reined in. The roped pinto bucked and reared impotently, then stood trembling with her foal close beside her.

James laughed, his face flushed with excitement. "You're mine now, girl! Father, T'Naisa, did you see that?"

"Indeed we did," Spock said proudly.

From this day on, he would never look at his son in quite the same way. The newfound respect he felt for James gave him fresh hope for the future of his family. Of course, they were none of them perfect, himself included. Each individual held his or her own measure of weakness, but with love came forbearance and moments such as this, when all in the world seemed well.

"What fun!" T'Naisa said with a toss of her red hair.

And the three of them started for home together.

                                                                           oooOOooo