Flashback - Diane Carey [17]
"But there's more, isn't there?" she asked, stepping a little forward against the bedside. "A little girl died."
Pain-emotional pain and guilt-crossed Tuvok's face. Janeway knew she'd rung the right bell.
"Yes," he uttered. "A child died. And if I am indeed the individual who allowed her to die, or at least who was present and unable to prevent her death, I have a responsibility to her family to stand before them and explain what happened. Yet... I have no idea who she was."
"A child doesn't just die in a vacuum," Janeway pointed out. "If there was a death, there must've been an investigation, a funeral, talk about it, awareness of it-don't you recall anything like that? You say the child called you by name, so she knew you, she wasn't a stranger. You must have some acquaintance with someone else who knew her or was related to her. This incident can't be all that isolated. But you have no memory of anyone talking to you about it, asking you what happened, no follow-up, no parents, no funeral? Am I right about this?"
"You are quite correct. I had not. . . considered those extrapolations."
That struck Janeway as quite odd. It showed her how much Tuvok's thoughts were being taken over by this, or perhaps that damage was already occurring. A Vulcan who hadn't considered all the extrapolations wasn't a fully operational Vulcan.
He seemed embarrassed that he hadn't thought of this, and confused all over again now.
Janeway felt bad, because she hadn't meant to confuse him, but she needed those answers. Was this image in his mind real or not? Had a Vulcan child died? Then why hadn't there been any question? Any funeral? Any mention of her later in his life? Such things just didn't happen and then never come up again.
Even in a glance, a whispered reference, a buried article-something. No one, not even Vulcans, could, or would, try to conquer tragedy with utter silence.
Even that, even the silence, would have said something.
"We'll do whatever is necessary to get this off you," she said. "Whatever happened, you shouldn't have to live with this. Accidents happen. Tragedies happen. It's all over, has been for decades, and there's no reason you should have to live under the weight of it."
Tuvok seemed comforted by her commitment. "1 realize it is asking a great deal from you, Captain," he said, "and I did consider turning to one of the
other Vulcans on the ship. But this meld is more intimate than most. A family member is normally chosen because of the implicit trust that usually exists."
He had been staring forward, avoiding her eyes, but now he looked directly at her.
"On this ship," he finished, "I trust you more than anyone else."
If he was admitting anything too deeply private, he was being driven to do so by the turmoil Janeway read behind his eyes. She was glad of that turmoil just for a moment, so they would be completely honest and drop all the shields of propriety and privacy and dig for the core of the trouble.
She had to find her enemy. Find it, then fight it.
"Whatever happens, I'll be there for you, Tuvok," she said. "I'll help you get through this."
He gazed at her almost warmly. "I will initiate the meld, and attempt to access the memory fragment of the girl and the cliffside. Once that has been accomplished, you will act as my pyllora."
"Your pyllora . . ."
"My guide. My counselor. You will help me reconstruct the memory in its entirety. And as I am reliving it, you will help me to objectify my experience. By processing the experience rather than avoiding it," he went on, taking his refuge in the scientific steps, "I can begin to overcome my fear, anger, and other emotional responses. And then I shall try to reintegrate the memory into my conscious mind. Only then will I be free of the destructive emotions associated with the memory."
Sounded simple when he said it like that. She knew there were myriad complications,