Dark Matters_ Shadow of Heaven (Book 3) - Christie Golden [6]
Tuvok cocked his head quizzically. "I do not doubt what you will tell me, Dr. R'Mor. You have not lied in the past, and there seems little reason for you to lie now."
"Thank you, Tuvok. I appreciate your trust. But you need to know this as I know it Tialin didn't just talk to me. She spoke to my brain, implanting the information in a way that-" He fumbled for words. "It is a deep sense of knowing, Commander. That's all I can tell you. And you have to experience that as I did, as a knowing, not a telling."
Tuvok's dark brown eyes searched Telek's. Precious seconds were ticking away on the bridge.
"Very well," said Tuvok. "I agree."
They sat down on the edge of the bed. Telek smiled slightly.
"What is it about this situation that you find amusing?" asked Tuvok.
"There are dissidents on my planet who secretly follow the Vulcan path," he said. "This has gone on for generations. They hope for unification, someday. I was just thinking how pleased and excited some of those people would be to be involved in a mind-meld, as I am about to be."
Tuvok frowned a little. "If they react with pleasure and excitement to a mind-meld, then they are not truly following the Vulcan path, are they?"
"Spoken like a true son of the planet," said Telek.
There had been enough chatter. "Close your eyes and take a moment to calm your no doubt racing thoughts," said Tuvok. He did the same, though he was much more tranquil than the agitated Romulan. He was not looking forward to this. The mind-meld was an intimate act, one Tuvok had shared only in the most dire of cases with anyone who was not a Vulcan. He was not eager to plunge headlong into the chaotic mind of a being as passionate as Romulans were believed to be. Admittedly, Telek's years of studying science had taught him discipline, but even a disciplined non-Vulcan mind was a riot of emotions to a true Vulcan.
He opened his eyes. Telek sat silently, expectantly. Tuvok lifted his right hand and placed his fingers with exquisite gentleness on the Romulan's ridged brow, temple, chin.
"My mind to your mind," he said, intoning the ritual words. "Your thoughts to my thoughts."
And those thoughts came, rushing toward him in a stampede of colors and emotions and feelings. It was not the most volatile mind Tuvok had encountered; that dubious distinction belonged to the late sociopath Lon Suder. The feelings and thoughts of others with whom he had melded joined in the cacophonous chorus: Janeway's warm sincerity, Paris's cocksure arrogance tempered with insecurity, Kes's thoughts before she spiraled away from them into an existence they could only imagine. Voices, words: You are my soul, my husband-My dearest friend, Tuvok-I only want to do something for the ship....
Carefully, Tuvok took the many voices, many thoughts, and separated them strand by strand. With great gentleness and respect, he laid them aside, focusing on the vibrant thread that was Telek R'Mor. Quick images flooded his brain, not what he sought but nonetheless vital to understanding that final goal. He saw an elegant Romulan woman holding an infant daughter. I am a husband. I am a parent, Tuvok thought, his mind automatically seeking all resem-
blances to ease the shock of sharing another's thoughts. He beheld the face of the chairman of the Tal Shiar, Jekri Kaleh; such a young, fair face to house such cruelty. He saw a blond man, humanoid, with a twist of contempt to his full mouth. Lhiau, the rogue Shepherd.
For a moment, Tuvok resisted the flow of Telek's thoughts and branded everything the Romulan knew about Ambassador Lhiau onto his own brain. Knowing one's enemy was wisdom. This was their foe, Tialin had said, and thus far nothing Tuvok had learned had made him inclined to doubt.her.
On swept the relentless tide. Tuvok experienced grief and horror