Unification - Jeri Taylor [33]
In the dreams, Sarek never appeared, and yet Picard knew he was there, lurking behind some vaporous curtain, just out of comprehension. Every morning, Picard would wake shivering and chilled, remembering almost nothing of his dreams except the sensation of cold and a near avalanche of overwhelming emotion.Occasionally he would come to consciousness with the name of Perrin on his lips.
In each of those dreams, he dreaded the thought that Sarek might appear and he would have to look into those tortured dark eyes once more.
“Sir,” said Data, “you have seemed unusually pensive since we received the news of Ambassador Sarek’s death.”
Picard began packing away the materials Beverly had provided them to complete their Romulan transformations. He knew what Data had said was true. He had felt himself turn inward when he read that message on K’Vada’s padd; he had not wanted to examine or to talk about the effect that Sarek’s death produced in him. Now Data’s calm observation asked him to reflect on it.
“Sarek and I shared a particular bond,” he began. “Our lives touched in an unusual way. I admit that I feel the effects of his loss.”
Even as he spoke these words, Picard realized that he was intellectualizing the response, analyzing the situation and presenting a nonemotional reply. He tried to obscure the acknowledgment that he had no desire as yet to explore his feelings about the matter.
“The tenor of our mission has changed, at least for me,” he continued, beginning to feel on safer ground by shifting the discussion away from himself and onto their journey. “We were sent to confront Spock about his disappearance. Now, we must also tell him his father is dead.”
“I am afraid I do not entirely understand, sir. As a Vulcan, would not Ambassador Spock simply see death as a logical result of his father’s illness?”
“It is never quite that simple. Not even for a Vulcan. Certainly not for Spock, who is also half human.” Talking about Spock and Sarek certainly was more comfortable than talking about his own ambigu-ous relationship with them, and he tried not to listen to the nagging voice in his mind that told him he was avoiding something significant. “They spent a lifetime in conflict… now the chance to resolve their differences is gone.”
Data took a moment to process this statement. “Considering the exceptionally long lifespan of the Vulcans,” he said presently, “it does seem odd that Spock and Sarek did not choose to resolve those differences in the time available.”
“Yes,” acknowledged Picard. “It really is quite— illogical.” He looked at Data, envied him briefly for the fact that he would forever remain innocent of the tangled agonies of human emotion. “A father and son… both proud, both stubborn… more alike than either would care to admit. They can’t easily break down the emotional barriers they’ve spent a lifetime building.”
Picard closed the satchel containing Beverly’s implements. “And then the time comes when it is too late to try. When one realizes that all the things he had planned to say will go unsaid.”
He looked into Data’s guileless face, and wondered if the android grasped even a part of what he was saying. “That is a difficult moment. And a lonely one. Spock will now have to face that moment.” Data tilted his head in an effort to understand the complex undertones of familial relationships. Picard felt a draft of cold air and turned to see what had caused it. But as he suspected, nothing was there.
When Captain K’Vada saw the two Starfleet officers walk onto his bridge disguised as Romulans, he could not help but laugh. He thought they looked absurd, but then he thought Romulans themselves looked ridiculous, with their pointed