Flashback - Diane Carey [9]
Vulcans were very private people, she had come to discover, and she promised herself she wouldn't mention the episode of the mind link, or tell him how it felt to be slipping and kicking, dangling over a cliff hundreds of feet from the ground. The memory of it sent a shiver down her arms.
And the terror began once again to creep through her mind.
Candlelight soothed his psyche. Perhaps this was the one concession Vulcans made to the idea that romance was comforting.
Dozens of tiny fiberglass rods caught the light and refracted it along the tabletop. Each rod was cool in his fingers, attracting the attention of his troubled mind.
Before him, the keethera grew rod by rod. The goal was to create a structure, but never the same structure twice. His mind was being organized moment by moment by the architecture of the house of little rods.
A simple device, remarkably effective. He had heard that humans tended to construct puzzles and
miniatures of vessels for the same kind of mental result.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then slowly let the breath out.
"A house cannot stand without a foundation," he murmured. "Logic is the foundation of control . . ."
He placed another rod on the keethera, without opening his eyes, forcing his mind to see the structure's details without physical vision.
"Control is the essence of function ... I am in control."
His fingers found another rod, and he raised his hand toward the structure. A nerve in his palm flinched-a child's hand in his, slipping-
The rod clicked on two others. The keethera shuddered and collapsed with a startling crackle.
Tuvok's eyes shot open, his concentration snapped. So many hours . . . failed.
The distraction of his door chime sounding was actually welcome. Visitors rarely came here, and the sound perplexed him for an instant, before he finally said, "Enter."
The door hissed, and Kes came in, holding a small medical device.
Tuvok stood up.
"Kes . . . what is it?"
The young girl offered him a comforting smile. She didn't seem to be as put off by his Vulcan nature as most other beings. In many ways, Kes was quite Vulcan in her steady manner, yet with the easy
affability of a calm human. Interesting, because she was neither of those.
"The Doctor wanted me to adjust your neurocor-tical monitor to pick up additional peptide readings," she said. Then she paused, looked at him briefly, and added, "I can come back later if this is a bad time."
Most astute.
"No," Tuvok said. "You may proceed."
He sat down on his couch. Eyeing him with an undue hesitation, Kes slowly moved to him and systematically adjusted the device behind his ear, gradually enough that each added pinch could be absorbed with a minimum of discomfort. He appreciated her delicate touch, yet said nothing.
"What are you working on?" she asked, nodding at the jumble of tiny rods on the table.
"It is called a keethera," he explained, inexplicably embarrassed by the structureless pile.
"Keethera," Kes tested. "What does it mean?"
"The approximate translation is 'structure of harmony.' It is used as a meditational aid. Building it requires precise coordination and dexterity. It helps focus thought and refine mental control."
Instantly he realized that his explanation had just borne witness to his utter failure at focusing his thoughts.
"At the moment," Kes murmured, "it doesn't look very harmonious."
He glanced at her. She was annoyingly bright.
"No," he said. "It does not."
Kes finished the adju stment on his monitor and
turned to leave, then hesitated. "I'm curious. What does the keethera look like when it's done?"
"The form is not predefined. It is a reflection of the state of mind of the builder. It is different each time."
Again, he had just admitted his mental state to her, and was disturbed.
She smiled. "I'd like to see it when it's done."
Uneasy, Tuvok frowned and did not answer. This was an awkward