The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [166]
“You should have taken me into your confidence,” she said at length, finally breaking the silence that had begun to stretch awkwardly between them.
“You’re probably right, T’Pol. And I’m sorry.” His eyes glistened with regret, and she was startled when she realized that her own eyes were waging a struggle of their own against a rush of unshed tears. “Probably”?
“Who else knows?” she said aloud.
Tears finally began running freely down his cheeks. “Malcolm. Phlox. The captain.”
Only those with an operational need to know, she thought, understanding but still somewhat resentful. And angry. And hurt.
“I’m so sorry, T’Pol.”
Still battling her own emotions, she said, “I am… gratified that you survived.”
“Gratified, but also damned pissed off,” Trip said, smiling through his tears.
“Vulcans do not experience such base emotions.”
“Horse apples they don’t.”
“I certainly hope no one else sees you in this emotional state,” she said, though in truth she wasn’t eager to let anybody see her anytime soon either.
“What, are you afraid I’ll give Vulcans a bad name?” Trip said, chuckling at his own comment as he wiped at his still-flowing tears with the heels of both hands.
T’Pol stood watching him, feeling awkward and inadequate to do anything to comfort him, or herself for that matter. Her arms felt like useless vestigial appendages, so she clasped her hands behind her back to keep them out of her way. She wondered how he would react if she were to initiate the same sort of affectionate human embrace to which Captain Archer had spontaneously resorted only a few minutes ago.
Then, as she studied his overwrought face, a fundamental realization struck her: He had said he had been sent into the Romulan Star Empire as an infiltrator. Therefore Charles Tucker now wore the face of a Romulan.
And the face of a Romulan was all but indistinguishable from that of a Vulcan.
“Your… appearance suggests that Romulans and Vulcans are kindred species,” T’Pol said once she’d found her voice again.
“Looks that way.”
Oddly, her emotions began to calm now that she had an external problem of some importance with which to occupy her mind. “Does Captain Archer know?”
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out once he’s a little bit less preoccupied.”
“Of course,” she said, nodding, training her attention back upon the core of Trip’s surprising revelation. “If the Romulans truly are a throwback to the warlike, colonizing period of our ancient ancestors, then all the Coalition worlds are in grave danger. The Romulans will never stop attacking us voluntarily.”
“I know,” Trip said.
At that moment T’Pol understood with immediate, heart-breaking certainty that he intended to go back among them, and probably quite soon. She could sense from the resolve in his voice that it would not only be useless to try to talk him out of it, but also that it would be dangerous to the Coalition should his mission be interrupted or delayed.
And there was another grave danger as well, one that could not only disproportionately affect her homeworld, but might also shatter the entire alliance if it wasn’t addressed properly.
“The Coalition will be fragile for a long time, Trip, even after the delegates sign the Compact,” she said.
“I figured that kind of goes without saying,” he said, regarding her with evident curiosity. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“I speak of Vulcan’s… evident kinship with the Romulans. Should this secret ever get out, the other Coalition members- even Earth- will distrust us. The Andorians would almost certainly demand our withdrawal from the alliance, or else abandon it themselves. Even if the Andorian-Vulcan war that would almost inevitably result didn’t directly involve Earth and Tellar, it would render the entire Coalition more vulnerable than ever to Romulan conquest.”
Trip