Unification - Jeri Taylor [6]
“Sarek has good days… and bad days. More and more they’re bad.”
They exited into the corridor and proceeded down the corridor toward a turbolift. “Then the disease has progressed?”
“It is a cruel killer. Sarek deserves a noble death. Instead, he is trapped in this lingering madness.”
“It must be very hard for you.” When he uttered those words, Picard saw Perrin’s head swing around to him. He realized that she was unused to anyone thinking of her feelings, her needs, and was caught somewhat off guard. She was silent for a moment before she responded.
“Every day I can share with him is a gift. The pain will be in losing him.”
“I hope that time will not be soon.”
“There’s no way to tell. At times I think he won’t make it through another night, and then it seems he’s strong enough to live for years.”
The two walked quietly for a moment, Picard heavily aware of her presence next to him, catching a faint scent of something fresh and floral. His next words came out unbidden, as though they had somehow bypassed his conscious mind. “Perrin, I admire your strength more than I can tell you.”
Again, he felt her sidelong glance, but he was careful to keep his eyes trained straight ahead. She did not respond, and the two walked the rest of the way in silence.
Perrin stared out the windows of the conference lounge at the dusky red of the planet Vulcan. She had traveled in space many times, but was always struck by its awesome beauty. It was cleansing, she thought, to view her world from above; it changed perspective and allowed her to free herself for a while of the burdens that afflicted her when she was on the surface.
Burdens? Had she thought that word? ttow had it crept into her mind? A wave of guilt swept over her for an instant as she acknowledged that Sarek’s illness had become a burden to her. He was her husband, she loved him beyond all things, she owed him so much— she mustn’t think of his dreadful malady as an encum-brance.
It was Captain Picard’s unexpected solicitude that had triggered these feelings, she was sure. His caring statement, acknowledging that the situation was difficult for her, had tapped into emotions that she had tried hard to keep quiescent, and now, as if through a tiny hole that keeps ripping larger, everything was trying to spill out. Well, they might try, but she would push those feelings right back where they belonged. She had become good at that.
“Perrin?” Picard’s voice caused her to spin around, and she saw him standing before her with two cups of steaming tea. She smiled and took one, deeply inhal-ing the vapor.
“Mint tea—it’s been years since I’ve had it. Vulcans have some strange concoction they call ‘mint,’ but you wouldn’t recognize it.” She sipped at the fragrant liquid and turned back to gaze out at the stars. If only she could stand there for hours, sipping this lovely tea and gazing at the glories of space…
“Perfin, you know why I’ve come to Vulcan.” Picard’s voice was gentle, but it grated on her nonetheless. She knew the purpose of this visit and she had no desire to go into it. She knew it was inevitable and that the captain didn’t have the luxury of avoiding it. Still, it was so calming just to look out, see Vulcan as a huge orb, hazy and florid, just one planet among millions and millions.
“I must ask you about Spock.”
Now she turned, bitter feeling welling up in her, threatening to overcome her precarious control. “He didn’t