Surak's Soul - J.M. Dillard [8]
Reed kept his features composed in a serious near-scowl, and accepted the container of gel with a curt, professional nod. Phlox and the captain were busily talking, and Hoshi was listening to them; the distraction presented Reed and T’Pol with something close to a private moment.
Reed had been somewhat concerned by two things—first, that he had been outgunned by T’Pol, since he was the tactical officer, after all. It wasn’t easy for him to accept that, since he was a mere human, any Vulcan would always have a much faster reaction time, no matter how many years Reed spent practicing with his phase pistol. Yet he knew he had to accept such a fact with grace; there was enough human/Vulcan prejudice in the galaxy as it was, and he felt it his duty to try to overcome any such prejudice he found within himself.
Thus, he felt it was important for him to maintain as friendly a relationship with T’Pol as possible—for the sake of human-Vulcan relations, he told himself quite seriously.
Second, he was concerned about T’Pol’s own reaction to inadvertently killing the alien. Hoshi’s comments in the shuttlepod, followed by T’Pol’s more-than-usual stiff behavior afterward, made Reed worry that perhaps the Vulcan indeed felt guilt about the situation.
And so, as T’Pol turned her back to him, and Reed smoothed the first bit of phosphorescent gel over the curve of her shoulder, he remarked, “Hoshi was right, you know.”
“About what?” T’Pol’s tone appeared entirely flat, indifferent.
“There was nothing you could have done about killing that alien. I mean, he was bound to die one way or another.”
T’Pol did not respond. Reed slicked down the other shoulder, then began to move toward the small of her back. She was really quite amazingly muscular, though she did not appear so—her muscles were firmer than a human male’s, yet her skin was so much softer….
Reed forced his thoughts to the issue at hand. T’Pol’s lack of response increased his sense of awkwardness. “What I’m trying to say is…you mustn’t feel responsible for killing off an entire race. Just because he was the last…We probably wouldn’t have learned that much from him, even if Hoshi had had the chance to communicate with him.”
Reed trailed off, realizing he was simply digging the hole deeper. He began rubbing the gel on more vigorously. T’Pol’s posture stiffened and she said, “Lieutenant.”
Reed continued his work, with such intensity that he began to huff a bit. “I’m not accusing you of guilt, mind you, I just want you to know that you don’t bear the responsibility…”
“Lieutenant,” T’Pol said, and Reed suddenly realized, that he had been rubbing in the gel with too much vigor. “I do not believe you are required to penetrate the epidermal layer.”
Heat rushed to Reed’s face; without another word, he handed over the container of gel, then averted his eyes as T’Pol administered the decontaminant to the rest of her body. He sat down on the nearby bench, stricken into silence.
T’Pol dipped her hand into the container of gel, and said, “Lieutenant. Your back…?”
At first he did not understand, and then he realized that she was working to return the favor. He turned his back toward her and replied, in what he hoped was an indifferent tone, “Of course…”
Once T’Pol had finished, she straightened. “Lieutenant…I appreciate your concern.”
“You do?” Reed turned toward her in surprise.
T’Pol cleared her throat delicately. “However, it is misplaced and inappropriate. You are engaging in what your psychotherapists would call ‘mind reading’—you are ascribing your own emotional reactions and thoughts to me, just as Hoshi did.”
“Oh.”
“I would appreciate it if you could resist doing so.”
“I’ll…do my best to resist,” Reed said.
In her small, spartan quarters that evening, T’Pol sat cross-legged on the deck, spine perfectly straight as she leaned forward and lit her meditation candle.
It was still early in the evening, but she had begun her meditation ritual ahead of schedule in order to settle her thoughts. Captain Archer had rejected her request to work a second shift