Crossover - Michael Jan Friedman [42]
Madness.
“Enough,” the Vulcan announced.
Immediately, the two Romulans regained their composure. Spock addressed Santek.
“You do not need my forgiveness,” he said.
D’tan began to speak, but the Vulcan silenced him with a gesture.
“You have chosen your path,” he told Santek. “It is only logical that you follow your nature. And it is you who have honored me with your study.”
Raising his hand, he added, “Live long and prosper.”
The Romulan’s face betrayed his surprise. At a loss for words, he simply nodded, turned, and left.
The Vulcan turned his attention to D’tan, who had by then regained control of himself.
“I beg forgiveness, Teacher,” said the Romulan, keeping his voice calm and even—though it obviously took some effort. “I allowed my passions to guide me.”
“We find ourselves in difficult times. Do not think of it again,” Spock advised him.
D’tan shook his head. “I do not understand, Teacher. How can you allow your students to forget all we have labored to acquire? Is not such behavior wasteful and therefore illogical?”
The Vulcan made a subtle gesture of dismissal with his hands. “It is impossible to teach those whose minds are elsewhere,” he said. “A student’s path must be freely chosen.”
Through the mask of D’tan’s control, Spock could see the war of emotions within him. It was easy to understand. The boy would soon be facing death, and everything he had come to believe was being tested.
The Vulcan himself had come to find recent events … unsettling. He had always believed that the only difference between the Romulans and his own people was education. From a scientific standpoint, that was very nearly true.
However, under extreme pressure, Santek had shown that his nature was still distinctly Romulan. He’d been unable to submit to his fate, however logical the submission.
D’tan, when pushed to his limits, had lost control as well. Perhaps even the best teaching could not erase the lessons of a lifetime—or plumb the mysteries of a person’s nature.
If that were true, then what of his efforts on Romulus? What could the future hold for the unification movement to which he and his students had labored to give life? Indeed, what could the future hold for those awaiting their deaths here on Constanthus?
Spock scanned the faces still attending him. And he wondered.
Despite his outburst, D’tan remained determined to continue his studies. But was it because he believed in them—or was he motivated more by his loyalty to his teacher?
How many of the others who remained were staying for the same reason? How many of them felt the call of their inner selves and denied it for Spock’s sake?
With these questions in mind, the Vulcan addressed his remaining charges. “How many others wish to end their study, as Santek has? There will be no censure for those who choose this path.”
He waited.
None of the Romulans before him moved or spoke.
Then one of them got up and approached the Vulcan. She lifted her hand in salute, turned, and retreated toward the group planning the escape.
Another student followed, and then another, each of them offering the Vulcan salute before leaving. None of them spoke during the grim procession—at least, not with their voices.
In the end, there was only the Teacher and twelve others—four of whom, including D’tan, had accompanied him on his journey from Romulus. And then one of these four students approached him.
Minan had been among the first Romulans to become a student of Surak. And now she was the last to leave. Spock noted that her control was impeccable as she faced him and raised her hand.
“Thank you, Teacher,” she said. A moment later, she was gone.
Among the eleven students to remain was Skrasis. Yet this did not surprise the Vulcan. The youth had great potential.
Unfortunately it would go unfulfilled. Regrets, of course, were not logical, but Spock made no effort to correct the thought.
All of the remaining eleven looked at him expectantly, as if their teacher