Unification - Jeri Taylor [10]
“Go from me!” There was certainly nothing feeble about the roar that emerged from his mouth. He was like a wounded animal, furious and lethal.
“Picard is here.” Perrin’s own voice was strong and unintimidated. In reply, Sarek began pounding his fists on the bed.
“No—more—chaos!” The scream was guttural and anguished, and it sounded in Picard’s heart like an iron bell. Perrin looked toward him, face impassive.
‘TII leave you alone. He’ll either acknowledge you, or he won’t.” She turned and left the room, and Picard found himself alone with the aggravated man.
His mind flashed, unbidden, to his first encounter with Sarek, and the extraordinary experience of the mind meld. He could feel Sarek’s strong fingers on his face, and the indescribable emotions that overwhelmed him as Sarek’s energy passed into him. The hours that followed were harrowing. Rampant emotions swept through him, wave after wave of unbridled passions: anger, sorrow, lust… all in a shifting kalei-doscope of sensation, dizzying and dire. It was unbearable, yet inescapable. Was this what Sarek dealt with every moment of his life? How could he not go mad? Picard had never conceived of emotions so compelling, did not know if he could endure them a moment longer…
He stared at Sarek still pounding on the bed, mind caught in a fury whose cause was already forgotten. Picard took his cue from Perrin. He approached the bed and spoke with firm authority.
“Sarek, I have come a long way to see you.” Those words only seemed to enrage Sarek more. The cords of his neck became distended as he bellowed. “I will not answer!”
“I must speak to you about your son.”
“I want no one with me—”
“About Spock.”
Suddenly Sarek went silent. The tension went out of his body and he was very still. Then, slowly his head turned toward Picard and his eyes seemed to focus.
“Spock?” His voice was so quiet Picard could hardly hear him. “Yes. He’s missing.”
There was a flicker in Sarek’s eyes. Picard hoped he was moving into the reality of the present from wherever he had been. “Is that you, Picard?” “Yes, my friend.” Sarek looked at him like a bewildered child. “You came here… to Vulcan… “I need your help. I must find Spock.”
Tears sprang to Sarek’s eyes. Picard realized that his emotions were so volatile, so fragile, that they could overwhelm him at any time. A strangled sob emerged from Sarek’s throat as he struggled for the control that was so elusive. “He is not here.” “I know. He is reported on Romulus.”
Now Sarek’s eyes focused on Picard. He was summoning concentration from some reserve deep with-in; the effort was considerable but he seemed determined to achieve it. “On Romulus. Why?”
“That’s what I hope to find out from you.”
“On Romulus.”
Sarek fell silent again, as though musing. But this time Picard did not sense a retreat from reality but rather a contemplation of the situation. When he looked at Picard again, his eyes were clear. It was remarkable. Picard was staring not at a feeble old man but at the legendary Sarek, a man in control of his faculties, mind strong and nimble. What did it cost him to achieve that control at this point in his disease?
“You’re going there, aren’t you?” Sarek queried. “To find him.” “Yes.”
Sarek brought himself upright. Purpose had given him strength and it was beginning to course through his veins. Picard felt as though he were watching someone awakening from the dead.
“Have you any idea what might have taken him to Romulus?”
“No.”
“Is there anyone on Romulus whom he might know–or choose to contact?”
A vague memory seemed to stir within Sarek. “Pardek,” he whispered. “Who is Pardek?”
“It could be Pardek…”
“Who is Pardek?”
Now Sarek was getting out of bed. His robe fell in folds around him, billowing around his legs as he began to pace.
Picard stared at him, not believing this transforma-tion.
“He is a Romulan senator. Spock has maintained a relationship with him over the years. I don’t know where they met. The Khitomer Conference, I’d imagine.”
“Pardek represented Romulus?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m quite certain he did.”
Sarek was