String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [110]
Moments later, Vorik nodded his head, still entranced. He did not open his eyes until he had removed his hands from Tuvok’s face, but when he did, they burned with a fire he had seen only once before in the ensign, a tempestuous passion that could have been mistaken by a less experienced hologram for the onset of the Pon farr.
“I have been asked to relay two messages, Doctor,” Vorik said evenly, his calm, cold voice bringing the more typical mask of Vulcan restraint over the rest of his face.
“By all means,” the Doctor replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
“Tuvok intends to complete this transformation. He does not wish you to take any further steps to prevent it.”
“That’s the message?” the Doctor said pointedly. “Was there anything else? Perhaps something I hadn’t already intuited from Tuvok’s behavior over the past ten hours?”
“You will not understand,” Vorik replied, crossing to the Doctor and gazing at him with something that resembled pity.
“Try me, Ensign.”
“Are you familiar with the Vulcan principle of the Kol-ut-shan?” he asked.
“It means infinite diversity in infinite combinations,” the Doctor answered matter-of-factly. “For most Vulcans it is a philosophical concept or a focus for meditation. However, I believe that there are certain Vulcan… what would be the word…. mystics…. who have gone so far as to suggest that it is also a state of being which a Vulcan may aspire to. Of course this experiential Kol-ut-shan is practically impossible to achieve, not unlike a human mystic achieving Nirvana, or the Questran notion of Sloumantica.”
Vorik’s next words were difficult for the Doctor to accept, despite the uncharacteristic passion that burned behind the young Vulcan’s eyes as he said them. “Once the transformation is complete, Tuvok will live as one with the new life-form that is gestating within him. In this state he will achieve Kol-ut-shan. What is happening to Tuvok is a gift. It is not something any Vulcan would willingly refuse.”
“Does he also understand that his body will die? What use is it to experience infinite diversity in infinite combinations if one won’t be around long enough to enjoy it?”
“But he will,” Vorik replied, the light flaming again in his eyes. “The man we have known as Tuvok will die, but his katra, his essence, all that makes him truly what he is, will survive. We will suffer, but he will never again know the torment of life… only its possibilities.”
The Doctor frowned.
Vorik’s words painted a pretty picture. What he described was something akin to the fulfillment of his most secret desire to actually become human. But he could not believe such a thing was really possible.
“That is comforting to know, Ensign,” he finally replied. “Especially since there is precious little I can to do prevent it.” Tossing his tricorder on the workstation, he was about to raise the forcefield again when it occurred to him to ask, “What was the second message?”
“Before his body dies, Tuvok wishes to speak to someone called Assylia.”
Janeway stood on a gently sloping rise above a dimly lit plain. The field below was awash with chaotic activity. It was a battle. That was easy enough to see. The two opposing sides appeared to be equally matched. The dying lay strewn about like discarded playthings.
She turned to see Phoebe standing beside her.
There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask.
What was this place?
How did this moment fit into the picture that was coming dimly into focus, the image of the Nacene, fighting among themselves to find the solution to the problem posed by the strings?
She wondered whether or not this struggle was still ongoing, until a deeper fear struck her.
Perhaps this was a vision not of the past, but of the future… a future in which she now had a hand