The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [57]
“I know,” Selar said, then she, in turn, took a deep breath. “Beverly … I must tell you something.”
“What?”
“I have been offered another position, a very good one, with the Vulcan Science Academy, as head of bioelectronic research. If I accept it, I will have the opportunity to accomplish much more than I can in Starfleet, working on improving prosthetics for people like Geordi La Forge and Thala. I am seriously considering accepting the offer.” She paused, then a hint of wry humor touched her mouth as she continued. “Assuming, of course, that we all survive our current mission.”
“Congratulations, Selar, that’s a great honor! You’d be terrific at it, with the way you can handle both electronics and medicine. Of course, we’d miss you terribly here, but I think you should take it, if it’s what you want.”
“I am not sure it is what I want,” the Vulcan said seriously. “I know that it is what I should want, what I have worked for the past fifteen years to achieve, but …” She trailed off, not meeting Crusher’s eyes.
“But what?” Beverly asked gently. “Don’t you want to go back to Vulcan?”
Selar’s head came up with surprise; her eyes widened slightly. “How … ,” she began. Then she finished heavily, “How did you know?”
“We’ve worked together for a long time,” the doctor said. “I’ve seen your reaction”—she smiled—”however slight, whenever your homeworld is mentioned. And Deanna commented once on your aversion to talking about your family. Vulcans are hardly blabbermouths, in comparison to humans, but the other Vulcans on board talk far more about home than you ever have.”
“That is because my family regards me as …” She thought a moment. “I believe your idiom is ‘a black cow.’ “
“Sheep,” Beverly corrected, managing not to smile.
“Thank you. I did not marry the man they selected for me, and they were not sanguine about it. They have never let me forget my transgression, my flouting of tradition. Every few weeks I receive communications from them, and nearly every one manages to remind me of my disgrace and of how successful my former betrothed has become.”
She sighed. “It was an immense relief to me when Sukat finally married, so that at least I did not have to hear them tell me that it might not be too late, and that if I would only return to Vulcan and abase myself in his presence, he might do me the immense honor of taking me back.”
Beverly shook her head sympathetically. “I can just imagine it. Families …” She made a face. “I have—had—an uncle who was a fast-talking shyster, and the biggest pain in the …” She trailed off, then shook her head. “Well, it’s a long story, but I know what you mean. Our friends we can choose, but our relatives … we’re stuck with them.”
“Indeed,” said Selar, with equal irony. “It is bad enough to receive such remonstrations while parsecs away, but what would it be like to have to live on the same planet with my kinspeople?”
“Sounds to me like you ought to just tell them to get off your back about it,” Beverly said. “If you made it clear that you weren’t willing to put up with … remonstrations, then they would let you alone eventually. After all, it’s not as though you’re still a kid, fresh out of school. You’d be going back as an honored professional.”
Selar nodded, as though the idea was something she hadn’t thought of before. “And I could make it clear that if I marry, it will be by my own choice,” she said.
“Sure! If they fuss about it, tell them to write down their complaints, fold them up, then stick them where the sun never shines,” the chief medical officer suggested, a twinkle in her eyes.
“Where the sun—” Selar broke off as she figured out the colorful metaphor. “Excellent advice, Doctor,” she said, straight-faced.
“No charge, Doctor,” Crusher said with equal gravity.
By the time Selar finished her patient checks, it was nearly lunchtime. She went looking for Thala, to suggest that they go up to Ten-Forward again. Finding the child bent intently over a computer link, she greeted her. “Hello, Thala. Would you like