Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [39]
“What has become of him during the intervening seven weeks, we simply do not know. Every subsequent attempt to contact the ambassador, or to ascertain his condition, has met with failure. Even the operative who made the most recent face-to-face contact with him—a meeting confirmed by Spock himself shortly before his own disappearance—has vanished.”
“If I may, Admiral,” said Sorok, who patiently waited for Akaar’s nod before continuing. “Even if Ambassador Spock were a confirmed participant in the upcoming diplomatic meetings with the Romulans, I believe it would be a mistake to place too much reliance on his political influence.”
Troi couldn’t resist following up on this. “Why?”
“Because Ambassador Spock was merely a figurehead for a charismatic movement. Such causes tend to lose momentum in the absence of the strong influence of their founder-leaders.”
Do you mean charismatic, flash-in-the-pan “founder-leaders” like Surak ? Troi wondered wryly. She was tempted to ask the question aloud, but saw no reason to go out of her way to bait Sorok or the other Vulcans. They seemed peevish enough without being needled deliberately. Though Vulcans generally worked hard to present a phlegmatic aspect to outsiders, Troi ranked them among the most emotional species she had ever encountered.
“Even if he still lives,” the male Vulcan continued, “Spock cannot lead the Unificationists forever. He will inevitably succumb to old age, or the frequently lethal intrigues of Romulan politics.”
Troi picked up an immediate and strong undercurrent of sadness coming from Akaar in response to Sorok’s words. That didn’t surprise her in the least; from what she’d read of his service record, the Capellan admiral had always maintained close ties not only to the Vulcan ambassador, but also to many of Spock’s closest friends and colleagues. It was a relationship that went all the way back to Akaar’s birth 112 years ago.
“Spock is not yet ancient enough for natural death to draw near to him, Mr. Sorok,” Akaar said. “And I sincerely hope that he has yet to fall prey to the other dangers you describe.”
“As do I, Admiral,” the Vulcan replied, his voice appropriately quiet and grave. “As do I.”
Troi’s attention was suddenly drawn back in Will’s direction. His emotional “color” strongly resembled the hope and optimism she had read in him moments earlier. But another, even stronger sentiment burned brightly beneath it all, and she felt heartened when her mind touched it.
It was determination.
“Until I am presented with proof to the contrary, Admiral,” Will said, “I’m going to consider the ambassador alive and well. I find it difficult to believe that a man of Spock’s accomplishments would allow his enemies to sneak up on him. Especially when he’s in the company of people as courageous as the Romulan dissidents who risked everything to follow him over the past eleven years.”
But Sorok was evidently not ready to relinquish his pessimism entirely. “As I tried to make clear, Captain Riker, it would be foolish in the extreme to count on help from Ambassador Spock.”
Will smiled broadly at the Vulcan, and Troi noted it was the same smile he reserved for newbies on poker night. “Mr. Sorok, with six rival political factions mixed up in this, it would be foolish to count on anything.”
Now Troi could sense the caution and trepidation that quietly roiled just beneath the surface of Will’s emotions. But these feelings were securely chained down by his resolve to come to terms with all the complexities of the Romulan political landscape, with or without the help of Spock or his followers.
He’ll figure it all out on the fly, just like always, Troi thought as she traded glances with both Will and Christine, and then met the expectant, hopeful gazes of each of the other members of Titan’s senior staff. We all will.
“Now, if there are no further questions…” Akaar said, trailing off to signal an end to the briefing as he rose to his full, two-meter-plus height.
Will rose from his chair as well. “Actually, Admiral, there’s still a