The Romulan War_ Beneath the Raptor's Wing (Book 1) - Michael A. Martin [163]
“We... I have faith in the human species,” T’Pau said. “And it’s surprising that your belief in their capabilities isn’t even greater. After all, you have worked among them extensively.”
T’Pol could feel her anger on the rise again. “It’s not merely a matter of faith, Administrator.”
“Isn’t it? The Terrans have proven equal to every adversity they have faced so far. Humanity is more than capable of continuing to win its own battles, whatever temporary reversals of fortune might beset them at the moment.”
“There is no guarantee of that, especially now that the Romulans almost certainly know that their once-secret sublight attack strategy has been exposed,” T’Pol said. “They will adjust their tactics, and humanity may not be able to cope once they do. This adversity may prove to be the last one the Terrans and the Centauri face. And if that turns out to be the case, their blood will be on our hands as well as on those of the Romulans.”
T’Pau stopped again, apparently considering T’Pol’s words carefully. “The universe issues no guarantees.”
“That’s true enough, Administrator,” T’Pol said. Noting that the administrator’s equanimity now seemed not to be what it once was, T’Pol seized the opportunity to renew her attack. “But humanity’s battles are also Vulcan’s battles. That is not simply my opinion; it is written into the mutual protection provisions of the Coalition Compact, to which Vulcan is a lawful signatory.”
T’Pol fell silent, though she continued watching the other woman, whose wall of calm seemed to grow more compromised from moment to moment. Considering the crushing weight of responsibility that she carried—not only for the fate of her own race, but also for that of every Terran in two solar systems and beyond—it was no wonder that she had secretly cloistered herself in this place of seclusion and devotion to the principles of pure logic and total peace.
But whatever was motivating T’Pau on a personal level seemed to bear very little resemblance to pure logic, and appeared anything but peaceful. The administrator’s best efforts to conceal that motivation kept it well hidden, though not perfectly contained; it was possible to gain glimpses of it, in momentary flashes. What T’Pol glimpsed now was something most unseemly for a Vulcan, particularly for a committed Syrrannite.
It was fear, though precisely what it was that T’Pau feared was not immediately apparent.
T’Pol thought she glimpsed something else as well, but that, too, withdrew behind the other woman’s stern visage as her iron wall of control reasserted itself.
T’Pau turned away again so that she faced the baking expanse of desert below the sacred mountain. She might have been pondering the eroded nuclear crater that Kuvak had pointed out earlier. Was a repetition of that what T’Pau feared?
“Your colleague Denak once told us that you are rare among Vulcans,” T’Pau said.
“Us,” T’Pol thought. Not “me.” The administrator’s peculiar usage of plural first-person pronouns was becoming distracting.
“Rare in what way?” T’Pol asked.
“In that you are aware of the blood we share with our Rihannsu cousins.” T’Pau said.
T’Pol couldn’t stop herself from blinking in surprise. “I have visited a Romulan world,” she said. “So I know of the... relationship between our people and the Romulans.”
T’Pau nodded again. “Then perhaps you can appreciate the logic behind the decision we have made regarding the humans. And why we must resist the urge to turn away from that decision, no matter how vociferously either you or Foreign Minister Soval might argue to the contrary.”
T’Pol could see the logic inherent in concealing the genetic and cultural kinship between the Vulcan and Romulan peoples. But that logic assumed that T’Pau’s intent was to preserve