VARIATIONS ON A THEME 2

by

Sheila Clark and Valerie Piacentini

PART 1 - VULCAN

Commander James Kirk, First Officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, sat in his cabin half reading a book. The other half of his mind was occupied in considering just why this best-selling novel by one of Earth's most popular authors was failing to hold his attention.

It lacked depth, he decided. It lacked originality. He had come across dozens of books that followed much the same plot, demanding nothing of the reader's intellect; currently, he was wading through the statutory syrupy love-scene that left him unmoved.

No. Not quite unmoved - puzzled. He knew that sex was supposed to be enjoyable, although his own experience of it had not been in any way pleasant - he had known discomfort at best, acute pain at worst, and felt no desire to indulge vicariously in the pastime. He gave up on the repetitive description that left nothing to the imagination and scanned rapidly on, hoping to come to some decent action. The buzz at the door was a welcome interruption.

"Come."

Kirk smiled a still shy welcome as Spock entered. Despite the security and peace of mind that the Vulcan had given him, he still found it impossible to take for granted the friendship that this man from another universe lavished on him.

Spock's rigidly calm expression lightened for a moment in response; Kirk stiffened, his smile fading. "What's wrong, Spock?"

The Vulcan smiled ruefully. "Is it so obvious?"

"It is to me. What is it?"

Wordlessly, Spock held out a tape. Kirk took it, and with a further concerned glance at the Vulcan, slipped it into the viewer. Admiral Fitzgerald's face appeared on the screen.

At first it seemed to be merely a commendation for a mission successfully completed, and Kirk's disquiet grew; if such a commendation was worrying Spock - and then his attention was caught fully.

"... and so the Enterprise is ordered to Vulcan, where the Vulcan Scientific Legion of Honour will be awarded to you. Shore leave for the crew will follow and your new crew members will join the ship. Fitzgerald, Admiral, Starfleet, out."

"Congratulations, Spock!"

"I didn't earn that award, Jim - the Captain did."

"You deserve it - you got the Mindsifter back safely. And you gave them the added information on it that you said we researched."

Spock smiled again, an odd expression in his eyes. "Whether I deserve it or not, Jim, you've missed the point of that message."

"Missed..." Kirk frowned. "Oh lord, of course - Vulcan!"

"Exactly, Jim. How many casual acquaintances did the Captain have there, whose names were not even in his personal log? What was his relationship with his parents? Was his home even the same as mine? Each universe has its differences, but so far those differences have not caused me too many problems. This time, however... Do you know how the Captain and his parents related to each other, Jim? Must I visit them, or will they not expect it of me?"

Kirk considered. "Well, for a start, there's only Sarek and T'Pau. Amanda - the Captain's blood-mother - died in childbirth - a very difficult second pregnancy, I gathered, from the little the Captain said. The child died too."

Spock frowned. "Partly consistent with my universe - my mother's second pregnancy had to be terminated to save her life - there was no way the unborn child could have been saved - and she was then unable to conceive again. The genetic differences between the two races - there were antibodies in her blood as a result of the first pregnancy."

"But your blood-mother lived."

"Yes. Amanda's death in this universe may have contributed to the Captain's... maladjustment."

"It's possible," Kirk admitted. Time had enabled him to consider the Captain's behaviour with reasonable objectivity. "With no-one Human around to help his developing Human side... yes, it's possible."

"Jim, twice now you referred to Amanda as 'blood-mother'," Spock went on. "Is there any particular reason for this? It is a term I do not know."

"Well, that was what the Captain called her, and he always referred to T'Pau as his mother," Kirk said. "Though of course, she'd actually be his foster mother or step-mother."

"Not 'grandmother'?" Spock asked.

"No - T'Pau is married to Sarek. The Captain was a little vague about it, but as far as I can tell, Vulcans normally have two wives because of the violence of the mating fever. The first wife is the main one, and the husband only marries the second wife once the main one is pregnant because... well, she wouldn't be in a fit state to... to satisfy him without endangering the unborn child."

"Fascinating. In my universe, the mating fever comes only once in several years - the time varies from individual to individual. T'Pau was my grandmother. And what of Sarek, Jim? What do you know of him?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. I've met him, of course - the Captain took me to Vulcan with him on leave once. I hoped he'd leave me on the ship, but he didn't - although he didn't touch me while we were there. When we got back to the ship... he made up for it." The memory of pain and humiliation showed deep in his eyes for a moment, and Spock realised afresh that the memory would never really fade. Kirk could control the recollection, prevent it from disturbing him for most of the time, but the horror was something he would never quite forget.

Kirk shook his head abruptly, as if to force the memory from his consciousness. "Sarek had not approved of the Captain joining Starfleet, but he did become reconciled; success and rapid promotion were contributing factors, I think."

"Ah. My father did not speak to me for eighteen years."

"There wasn't that much breach here, if any - just the disapproval and an attitude of 'Well, it's your life - if you want to join Starfleet do, but don't come looking for sympathy if it's the wrong choice', followed by 'Well, it seems you chose right after all'."

"Did Sarek give any indication of wondering what the Captain did about the mating urge?"

"Not in front of me."

Spock frowned slightly in thought. "I wonder what - if anything - he told his father? It would not do for me to be inconsistent. What of siblings? Is there an older half-sister?"

"Not that I know of."

"Interesting. I have one; so did the Commander. No younger ones?"

"No. At least - there might be," Kirk said unhappily. "I don't know of any, but that doesn't automatically mean that there are none."

Spock sighed. "This visit, which it seems I must make, will not be easy. Jim, will you accompany me? I would not ask it of you, but your presence, since you were there before, might help to disarm any suspicion. You may be able to warn me of impending pitfalls, and if Sarek and his acquaintances see the Enterprise's First Officer accepting me, it might close their eyes to any minor inconsistences."

"Of course I will, Spock." Kirk smiled gratefully at the Vulcan.

Sarek frowned as he finished checking the music tapes in their containers. There was certainly one missing, and he puzzled over its whereabouts. It was one he had deliberately put out of his mind since taping it - an arrangement for Vulcan harp that he had composed a little over a year previously, and having taped it he had put it aside for a while. Now, tonight, he had planned to play it through, listening with the critical ear of an impartial judge, with a view to correcting, developing, improving it - and it was not there. He still had the manuscript, of course, but that was not the same; and if he was forced to re-tape it he knew he would have to leave it for some months before doing more work to it. While he would do this if he had to, he did not particularly want to.

It had to be somewhere in the house. Although it had not been marked it was impossible to re-record the tape by accident. He must have left it somewhere... but where? He thought back.

He had recorded the tune just before his son's last visit, he remembered. Yes, of course - although Spock neglected his own music, he had expressed interest in the new composition... and he had taken it up to his room to listen to it! He had obviously forgotten to return it; it must still be in Spock's room.

Sarek moved a little stiffly towards the stair, aware of his age. He was getting old. It was illogical to feel regret for the lost agility of his youth - he had other things now to compensate for the reduction of his physical faculties - many memories, experience to give him wisdom...

The elderly Vulcan looked thoughtfully around his son's room, wondering where Spock might have put the missing tape. In truth, there were few possibilities; the desk beside the window seemed the most probable place, for it was on the desk that the recorder sat. Sarek hesitated before approaching, and hesitated again, hand outstretched to grip the handle of the first drawer; the Vulcan passion for privacy was such that to open it, even in search of the missing item, was considered highly unethical. However, it was unlikely that Spock had left anything of a personal nature behind; his home was now the U.S.S. Enterprise, and it was in his cabin there that his personal possessions, few though they probably were, would be. Sarek opened the first drawer firmly. It was empty. The second held a container for tapes. In it was one tape, with no title marked on it. Relieved, for now he would have to invade Spock's privacy no further, Sarek retrieved it and retreated, feeling acutely uncomfortable. This, he thought to himself, must be how criminals on planets that actually have such people must feel.

He was half way down the stairs when T'Pau walked out of the domestic quarters.

"Dinner is ready, Sarek."

"Very well, my wife." He put the tape on a table in the hall and preceded her into the dining room.

T'Pau was a good cook, he reflected as he sat. Oh, Amanda had been adequate but she lacked the knowledge of Vulcan cooking that came with growing up on Vulcan, knowledge that a Vulcan mother passed on to her daughters; although she had initially been disturbed when Sarek brought his second wife home just after she announced her pregnancy, Amanda had made no protest, realising why a secondary wife was necessary in a Vulcan household, and had quickly accepted T'Pau's offer to do all the cooking. It had not taken too long before the two women had developed, if not a close friendship, at least an easy acceptance of each other.

It was a pity that T'Pau had never had a child, Sarek thought. Still, as he got older, the thought of finding a new secondary wife became increasingly unwelcome. It was not as if he did not have an heir, and one, moreover, who had brought honour to his name. Unfortunate that T'Pring had rejected him - she would have been an ideal wife for Spock, for she had been given training to fit her for life on a Starship. Though from all accounts she was fully content as Stonn's secondary wife, and was already the mother of two children.

Yes, Spock was definitely a son to be proud of. Already a Captain in Starfleet, and well respected by his crew, too, Human though they were. Why, his First Officer - what was his name again? Oh yes, Kirk - had even come home with Spock on his last visit. Not much character, of course - he had seemed nervous, very nervous, very much in awe of everyone, continually watching Spock as if looking for guidance; and his loyalty to his Captain had been almost embarrassing, even by Vulcan standards. Sarek wondered if Spock would bring the Human again on his forthcoming leave - if so, it was to be hoped that Kirk had outgrown his slavish dependence on his Captain. Loyalty was all very well, but...

Sarek frowned slightly at this point. Spock was getting older; and since T'Pring's defection he was still single. Medical examinations had shown conclusively that his sexual development was typical of the Vulcan male. However, his Human blood was making a difference, and so it was impossible to predict just when he would attain full maturity. So far he had been fortunate; but he could not expect the onset of the mating fever to be much longer delayed. He must find a wife; if not this leave, then he must delegate his father the task of selecting one for him. No Captain could command respect if he proved incapable of running his ship for three days every six months.

T'Pau, seeing her husband's abstraction, respected it. She could guess at the subject of his thoughts; she knew Sarek had been in his son's room.

Her own opinion of Spock was ambivalent. Her co-wife's son had always been a little difficult; as a young boy he had shown signs of bad temper, a trait uncommon in full-blooded Vulcans though not unknown. With maturity he had learned to control his temper, but T'Pau had little doubt that it was still as violent as it had ever been. For herself, she would not have cared to be an inferior who crossed Spock.

His First Officer, whom she had found to be a pleasant and polite young man, was undoubtedly the ideal subordinate for him; young, a trifle unsure of himself, very clearly following his Captain's lead in all things. It would be interesting to see if he still did. She would normally expect a Captain to train his immediate subordinate to be fully capable of taking the ultimate responsibility, just as her mother trained her for her responsibility to the children she had never had. Certainly Amanda's death had left her as Spock's sole maternal parent, and she had done her best for the child; but at times she had the uncomfortable suspicion that she had failed. On the surface Spock was an obedient Vulcan son, apart from the one instance of rebellion that took him into Starfleet, and circumstances had proved that his decision had been the correct one. He had advanced quickly to a responsible position; his behaviour was everything that could be expected from a well-brought-up Vulcan. And yet...

T'Pau did not trust Spock. Not wholly. She had no logical reason for her attitude - it was an instinctive response for which she could find no justification. Although... Normally, within the family, there was a degree of emotional relaxation. With Spock there was none. Even when he looked directly at anyone his eyes were veiled, shielded, giving no clue to his thoughts.

They had recently been informed that the Enterprise had been diverted to Vulcan and that home leave had been granted. T'Pau found herself wishing that it had not been. Life was more comfortable when the half-Human Spock was absent.

The older Vulcan finished his meal in silence, then nodded to his wife.

"An excellent meal, T'Pau. You have excelled yourself tonight. I will be in the music room for the remainder of the evening; I do not wish to be disturbed."

T'Pau bent her head in acceptance, and when Sarek had left the room she in turn moved to her own pursuits, leaving the servants to clear the dining room.

In the music room Sarek, having slipped the tape into an audio player, pressed the playback switch. Instead of the music he expected to hear, however, his son's voice issued from the speaker.

"I should, no doubt, be gratified to be home, receiving the respect from my family that is my due. Instead, I find that my relatives bore me. My father was ambitious once, but now he cannot understand what takes me to the stars. I think he truly believes that I enjoy my life as a Starship Captain. Not so! It is only a stepping stone on the way to my ultimate goal. I fully intend to have a seat on the Federation High Council one day - I, Spock, the half-breed!

"Not only do my relatives bore me; here, I have an additional frustration. It is not easy to summon James to my bed. These rooms are not soundproofed; should he cry out in pain, as he so often does, my father would hear, and wonder - and demand an explanation. James lies very badly; I could not hope that my father would be fooled.

"And yet I hunger for James. I hunger to hear him crying out, begging for mercy; I hunger to hold his submissive body, to enjoy him... I long to feel his abject surrender to my strength, and his disgust in my possession of him only sharpens my pleasure.

"Here, at least, I need not be jealous, for there is no-one here to take James from me. And he knows so little of a Vulcan household he must watch me for guidance, stay close to my side. For once, he needs me, and I revel in it...

"I was correct, too, in my assumption that James would not turn to my father for help. He does not know how unusual my desire for him is; he suspects that if my father knew the truth he would be expected to share my room and my bed, and he dare not risk that.

"But you will pay for these nights when I have slept alone, James, when I use the mind link to draw you to me, and you are forced to surrender to my will...

"If you had come to me here, James, simply because you knew I wanted you... I would have had to be gentle, as you would wish, to keep my secret... and it would have made your subsequent humiliation, back on the Enterprise, that much sweeter for me as you learned yet again that Vulcans are not gentle, tender lovers. And yet... if you were to come to me, offering yourself... and satisfying my hunger... would your willingness change anything? I do not know. It would not alter the urgency of the mating time, but for the rest? I do not know. You make me jealous so easily, James... "

Sarek finally recovered from his shock sufficiently to switch off the recorder, stunned by what he had heard. To realise that Spock despised his family had been bad enough; the knowledge that he was also a sexual deviant of the worst kind filled his father with shame.

The fact that he had formed a homosexual partnership did not, in itself, trouble Sarek. Such alliances were not unknown, although they were far from common. But that he should use that relationship to impose his will on an unwilling partner, and worse, enjoy making him suffer, was the most disgraceful behaviour possible.

No wonder the young officer had been so attentive to Spock's wishes! He undoubtedly knew that if he was not, he would suffer for it. It would be easy to despise the man as a weakling, but if he was forcibly melded to Spock... If he was forcibly melded to Spock, who was an unusually strong telepath, then there was little he could do to resist. Sarek recognised that, considered it, and accepted it. He also considered and accepted Spock's assessment of Kirk's silence on that last occasion when they had been here. Kirk probably did believe that Spock's behaviour was perfectly acceptable to his people. Vulcans spoke so little about themselves, especially on sexual matters, that he would have no reason to realise that such behaviour on the part of a Vulcan was not common.

And to think that he had once been proud of his son's telepathic ability, considering it proof that the Human part of his heritage had not weakened the Vulcan in him! For Kirk's welfare Sarek cared little; but Spock was a disgrace and a shame to the family. That could not be permitted to continue...

The Enterprise swung into standard orbit around Vulcan, and Spock ordered her into standby mode. This meant that all but the minimum crew were off duty, and even those who were still at their posts could relax and let the machinery do the work. Chekov was left in command, while all the senior officers beamed down to Starbase Vulcan.

As he gazed around after materialising, Spock was conscious of an unexpected nostalgia. It was here - in another universe - that he had perfected his equipment; the equipment that had brought him here, to this universe, and restored him to being a complete person again. He had the strangest feeling that if he were to go to the hidden cellar he would find the machinery waiting for him... guarded by the dead body of the Captain. Resolutely he closed his mind to such thoughts. This was reality; a world in which Jim Kirk walked by his side, no longer one where he was only a memory.

They reported to the Starbase Commander's office. Spock was mildly surprised to find the position filled by Commodore Decker - a man long dead in the other universe. He would have expected the position to be filled by a Vulcan - in his previous universe it always had been. He shut off the thought. That way mistakes could be made.

The official ceremony giving Spock the Legion of Honour was held immediately. The presentation was made by the Director of the Science Academy, since the award was given for scientific discoveries which had military uses. The Director, to Spock's relief, said very little about just what the medal was for; too many of the personnel present knew that Captain Spock had not been a scientist, although he had had some knowledge of the subject. Spock's own report, when he had handed in the information on the Mindsifter that he had obtained in his own universe, had given Kirk, as Science Officer, a great deal of credit for the technical part of it. In honesty, they had gone over much of the material together, and Kirk had made some valid observations, although Spock was a little unsure of just how much of it Kirk had actually understood; it had been during the period before the Human had come fully to terms with his new freedom, and there had been times when he had still not had the courage to say that he didn't understand something.

Much to Kirk's surprise he also received a citation for his part in the research of the Mindsifter. He was gratified, if a little guilty at being recognised for something he had not done; even although he knew he had reached some of the conclusions independently of Spock, Spock knew them already, and his mention of Kirk's contribution had not really been necessary to the compilation of the report. Kirk obtained more satisfaction from knowing that Spock was pleased with him; and startled by the sincere congratulations of his colleagues. In the past, he had never been popular - now, he realised for the first time that he was genuinely liked by the men who worked beside him, and his shy acceptance of their congratulations only served to underline his new popularity.

At last the fuss and ceremony were over, and the senior crew could disperse to enjoy the shore leave that the rank and file had begun several hours previously. For most of them, shore leave on Vulcan meant the recreational facilities of the Starbase; Vulcan's own recreational centres did not offer much scope for Humans. Spock was not particularly attracted by Human ideas of recreation, but for once he found himself wishing it were possible to remain here instead of going 'home'. He was very, very aware that this was the most difficult part yet of the exchange which he had effected; how little he knew of his dead counterpart's father - how little of this Vulcan's marriage customs! The woman who had been his grandmother in the other universe, here was his step/foster mother, his father's second wife - it would be very, very easy to make a mistake - and how could he expect sympathy and understanding from Sarek if the truth became known? Any man would want vengeance for the death of his only son. It was a pity that he could not leave Jim on the Enterprise, safe from Sarek's wrath should a slip be made - but if he did, the chances of a mistake were multiplied tenfold.

In keeping with his counterpart's last visit home, Spock hired a private aircar, which he piloted himself. Once on their way he glanced aside at Kirk, noting how tensely the Human sat.

"Worried, Jim?"

"Yes."

"So am I," Spock confessed. "We know so little - but without you to guide me, I would have no chance of carrying this off."

It seemed that they were not expected, for there was no-one to meet them when the aircar landed. Kirk frowned.

"That's odd - you did send a message, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Last time, Sarek met us here."

"Perhaps he's busy."

"He could be... He's retired, but spends a lot of time studying music - Spock, remember the Captain didn't play. He could play, and appeared to like listening to music, but he didn't seem to enjoy playing."

Spock nodded. As they left the aircar, he glanced around. "Very similar to my own parents' home. Which way?"

They made their way through the gardens. As they approached the house, Sarek emerged and stood waiting for them.

Spock raised his hand in salute. "Greetings, father."

Sarek responded automatically. "Greetings." He glanced at the Human who walked at his son's side. The man seemed tense, nervous; well, that was hardly to be wondered at, now that he knew how Spock treated him. On an impulse, he looked straight at Kirk, surprising the Human.

"You are well, Mr. Kirk?"

"Thank you, sir - very well. And yourself and your wife?"

Sarek lowered his head. Let the Human take the gesture for assent; it would not do for Spock to see the contempt in his eyes, the contempt that not all his willpower could hide; contempt for his son's behaviour - and the Human's apparent willingness to tolerate it.

"Where is my... mother?" Spock hesitated for an instant over the title. Jim said that the Captain had called T'Pau 'mother' - but this was a relationship entirely new to him.

"She is preparing dinner," Sarek replied evenly. If he was surprised at Spock's unprecedented mention of T'Pau, he gave no sign of it. "Mr. Kirk, you are in the room you had before. Dinner will be ready in half an hour." He turned abruptly away, knowing that he would betray his knowledge if he waited longer; and he must not do that. Not yet.

Kirk looked after him. "I don't think he approves of his son's friendship with a Human," he said wryly.

"Even although he married one?"

"Even although he married one. He was just as abrupt with me last time."

"Don't let it worry you."

Kirk smiled. "I don't. Last time, I hoped he might use his influence to persuade the Captain that his... friendship... for me was ill-advised. He didn't. This time - this time, nothing he says can influence you."

Spock's eyes smiled back, but all he said was, "We'd better find our rooms and get ready for dinner.

It was obvious that T'Pau had made a considerable effort to prepare a special meal; it was a pity that neither Spock nor Kirk felt relaxed enough to do it full justice, although both enjoyed the food.

As was customary the meal was eaten in near silence, the only comments being polite requests for some item on the table out of reach of whoever wanted it. Once they were finished, however, Spock looked directly at T'Pau.

"An excellent dinner, mother; thank you."

T'Pau looked sharply at him as Kirk nodded agreement. "Spock's right; I enjoyed it very much too."

The Vulcan woman's gaze shifted to him, sensing something different about him. She inclined her head in acceptance of the compliment, her mind working furiously. Amanda's son had never before spoken in that manner.

Sarek, however, did not appear to have noticed anything strange. "How long do you intend staying?" he asked abruptly. He looked at Kirk as he spoke.

The Human glanced at Spock, who answered. "The Enterprise leaves Vulcan ten days from now. We should be aboard for pre-flight checks and to attend to routine matters at least forty-eight standard hours before our departure time. I think we will stay for a week, if that is acceptable to you, father."

Sarek was still watching Kirk, noting the tension in him despite his efforts to relax. "Have you made any plans to fill your days?"

"We plan only to relax," Spock replied. "We have had a difficult time these last weeks; I require a period of peace and meditation, and James also would benefit from a few days of complete rest. I thought to sit in the garden tonight."

"And you, Mr. Kirk?" Sarek asked.

"I'll go with the Captain, I think - unless he'd rather be alone."

"You will be welcome, James."

Sarek turned away. Kirk, then, was still tied to Spock as he had been, and still could not find the strength to break free. He did not deserve sympathy or help. Sarek overlooked the fact that he had already recognised that if Kirk was melded to Spock, he could not break free, no matter how much he might want to.

It was very peaceful in the garden. The cool of the evening provided a temperature comfortable for Kirk and one that Spock, living as he did among Humans, had become accustomed to. Somewhere among the drought-tolerant bushes a bird sang as the night-flowering blossoms opened, scenting the air with their delicate perfume. A large, mothlike insect paused for a moment as it fluttered past, to investigate the yellow of Spock's uniform shirt before flying off with an almost disgusted air. Kirk chuckled softly.

"I can imagine what it's thinking," he murmured lazily.

Spock smiled slightly, completely relaxed. "It can think what it likes," he said. "I was thinking how long it's been since I was last at peace like this. We had a garden like this - a good place to meditate. It was the one thing I regretted leaving when I went to the Academy. I rarely visited after that, for we were seldom near Vulcan - and besides, my father did not approve of my choice of career. When I became Commander of the Vulcan Starbase I had my own home there, at the Base. There was no space for a garden, but even if there had been, I think I would have chosen not to plant one."

"Did you ever take your Kirk home on leave?"

"No. Although I once visited his home."

"His home?"

"Yes. His father was dead, but his mother still lived. She was very proud of him."

Kirk sighed. "I wish I had a home to take you to. They were declared dead years later, but the truth is, my parents abandoned me." He had never mentioned the fact before.

Spock was silent for a moment. He knew, of course; he had learned through the mind link of how first Kirk's parents, then his brother, had disappeared, leaving him alone. He had waited, unsure of how best to approach the subject, hoping that one day Kirk would mention it himself, knowing that when that day came it would be a further sign of the Human's growing acceptance that the past was past; a sign of his friend's growing emotional security. Spock had considered the point and knew what to say.

"Have you ever thought, Jim, that perhaps they really did die that day?"

"I've tried to hope that they were, but if they died, why were their bodies never found?"

Spock shook his head. "Murder - a quiet grave in a spot so secluded that no-one ever passed that way. It's possible."

"Yes," Kirk agreed. They fell silent, each occupied with his own thoughts; Kirk deeply immersed in memories of his childhood, the happy with his parents, the unhappy in the children's home; and Spock remembering the bitter grief, the regret that he had never shared the peace of his garden with his friend.

He was sharing the peace of a garden now, but it was not his, and this was not the same Kirk. Yet... This Kirk could appreciate the garden in a way that honesty compelled him to admit that the other Kirk could not have done. The other Kirk might have enjoyed the garden - but he would not have sat, peacefully silent, absorbing the scents and the soft bird and animal noises, the rustling of the plants in the evening breeze. He would already have been fidgeting restlessly, eager to go on down the path and see more, instead of savouring every aspect of the one place.

For the first time Spock found himself actively comparing the two Kirks in an objective fashion. He had loved his own Kirk dearly, and at first he had only sought a replacement for him; and he had merely pitied this Kirk at first. Now he realised that in fact this Kirk was more congenial company than his original; he was more sensitive, more thoughtful, more responsive to others' wishes and even to their moods. Spock would never forget his own Kirk, would always think of him with affection - but for this Kirk, Spock realised now, his feelings had passed from pity through genuine affection to a deep love that surpassed even his devotion to the Kirk who had taught him the meaning of the word.

He looked towards the Human, to find Kirk watching him intently.

"What are you thinking about, Jim?" he asked.

"Nothing much. Just how peaceful it is here... I never thought it could be so peaceful."

"The Captain brought you here?"

"Yes. When I admired the garden, he thought I was soft, weak. T'Pau tends a lot of it herself, instead of the gardener - when I told her I thought it beautiful, he congratulated me on finding the right way to win T'Pau's friendship. I'd had no thought of that, I meant what I said, and he turned it into something cheap and shabby, selfish... He would never have sat here like this, quietly thinking, relaxing. He would have spoken all the time, mocking me, demanding answers, spoiling it all. This place was meant for quiet."

"Yes," Spock agreed. "Do you know, Jim, that in my universe Jim Kirk would not have remained sitting at peace for so long? He'd have liked it here, but he'd have preferred to explore the whole place. You are more restful company than he ever was."

Kirk was aware of a sudden glow of pleasure, mingled with some embarrassment. He had never expected that Spock would ever find anything in him that did not compare unfavourably with that other Kirk. To cover it he looked up at the sky, and gasped.

"What is it?" Spock asked, immediately concerned.

"Look."

The sun had dropped down in the western sky and now hung poised just above the horizon. The clouds near it were shot through with the shades of a brilliant purple sunset.

"It's so beautiful," Kirk murmured.

"Beautiful indeed," Spock agreed. "I never saw such a sunset on my own Vulcan."

"I can't even tell you if sunsets like it are common here," Kirk said. "The Captain would never have done something so pointless as watch a sunset - and I can't ask because you should know."

"Surely a sunset of that brilliance cannot be of frequent occurrence," Spock exclaimed.

"I don't know," Kirk replied. "One of the cadets at the Academy with me said once that what he missed most were the sunsets of his home region. It seemed that his home district was renowned for the brilliance of its sunsets - a real tourist attraction. I envied him for having something he missed," he finished softly. It was a simple statement of fact, with nothing of self-pity in his voice; and there was nothing Spock could think of to say in reply.

They watched the changing pattern of mauve and purple as the sun sank below the horizon, the light in the sky faded, and the evening cool became night chill. Spock shivered.

Although he said nothing, unwilling to take Kirk from his enjoyment of the last tints in the sky, the Human was immediately aware of Spock's discomfort.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Not unbearably so," Spock replied, not wholly truthfully.

"You should have told me," Kirk said guiltily. "I forgot you feel the cold more than I do - and I've kept you out here."

"Not really," Spock answered. "I was enjoying the sunset too. And I have to admit I am apprehensive about spending more time with my 'parents' than I must."

"I don't think they suspect anything," Kirk said as they headed back towards the house. "After all, who could imagine such an unlikely exchange?"

"I know, Jim, but a change in basic personality reactions could be a sign of mental illness - we don't want them to begin wondering if I'm ill, mentally disturbed. There was plenty of speculation on the ship for a while, but no-one there knew the Captain as well as his parents would. They would not be satisfied that all was well, so easily."

T'Pau stood at the window, looking out over the garden, watching the sunset. She saw the two men sitting there, and wondered at the restful attitude Spock was displaying. She had never known him sit in the garden before.

The Human too, although showing signs of tenseness, seemed more relaxed than on his previous visit. It was of course possible that he simply felt more at home this time, but T'Pau sensed that it was something more than that. There was a subtle difference in the way that he spoke, especially to Spock. She was sure that Sarek had not seen it, and wondered if she should mention it; her husband was very lacking in perception, and could not understand anything but a completely direct approach. And yet, what could she say to him? Perhaps the young man had simply gained in maturity and self-confidence - a fact for which Sarek would evince the utmost indifference.

It was getting quite dark now, the colours almost gone. The two men in the garden had long since merged into the background. She was about to turn away when the two shadows appeared, moving towards the house. They stopped, facing each other; then one raised a hand briefly to the other's shoulder before they moved on. T'Pau drew back quickly, aware that neither man would care to have a witness to such a display of rapport. She went quickly to the sitting room.

Sarek was already there, his face an unreadable mask, and T'Pau nodded to herself. Her husband still did not approve of Spock's choice of friend. For herself, T'Pau considered that Kirk had clearly been good for Spock.

The subjects of her thoughts came in, Kirk's face alight with unconcealed pleasure.

"You stayed out very late," Sarek commented.

"My fault, sir," Kirk said. "I was watching the sunset and forgot how cold it was getting."

"We were both watching the sunset," Spock said.

Sarek looked slightly impatient - his appreciation of beauty was purely aural, not visual - so T'Pau cut in smoothly. "Indeed, it was particularly spectacular tonight."

"Merely the sun's rays reflected from dust and water vapour," Sarek said, dismissing the phenomenon.

"Yes, but knowing what causes it doesn't lessen its beauty," Kirk murmured. Before Sarek could answer, Spock indicated the chess board sitting on a table beside the fire.

"A game of chess, James?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

Had she possessed the requisite muscles, T'Pau's ears would have pricked. On his previous visit Kirk had played chess with Spock, but he was clearly unwilling - and she had noticed that he was not only badly outclassed, but handicapped, too; he played without a queen, and she was sure not of his own choice. Spock had always been a bad loser. But tonight Kirk seemed willing - even eager - to play.

They set out the board. Both queens were in place. Now that was interesting. T'Pau watched the play.

She realised within seconds that something had changed. Kirk's play was much improved, and the game was very even. There would be no quick end, such as there had always been before; indeed, they would be unlikely to finish it that night.

She was right. After struggling to control his yawns for some time, Kirk said ruefully, "I'm sorry, Spock - do you mind if we finish the game tomorrow? I'm getting terribly sleepy."

"Of course we can finish it tomorrow. I'm tired myself. I think I'll go to bed too." He looked at T'Pau. "Is it all right to leave the board, mother?"

"Certainly, Spock."

"Goodnight, then, mother. Goodnight, father."

"Goodnight, Spock," T'Pau said. Sarek merely grunted.

"Goodnight," Kirk said, with a shy smile to T'Pau. They left the room.

Spock paused at Kirk's door. "Goodnight, Jim. Sleep well."

"And you, Spock." He smiled. "You made it possible for me to sleep well - you know that, don't you?"

Spock's face lightened. "My motives were purely selfish, Jim - you know that, don't you?"

Kirk's smile gained in affection. "Yes... of course. Goodnight, Spock." The door closed behind him, and the Vulcan moved on.

Kirk went across the dimly-lit bedroom towards the shower unit, blinking sleepily. He undressed quickly and showered, rubbed himself dry, and moved back into the bedroom, sliding the door shut behind him. Unused to it, half asleep, he misjudged the angle of it and caught his fingers.

The sudden stinging pain was so unexpected that he was unable to suppress a sharp cry; then, annoyed with himself for his carelessness, he reached with his other hand to push the door open again. He had just managed to do this when the bedroom door opened unceremoniously, and Spock rushed in.

"What's wrong, Jim?" Spock caught his shoulders urgently. "I heard you - "

Kirk managed a rueful smile. "Nothing much, Spock; I caught my fingers in the door, that's all."

"Let me see." Spock examined the hand carefully. The skin had not been broken, but he felt the slight flinch as he touched a sensitive spot. He urged Kirk over to the wash-hand basin, and ran cold water over the fingers for a minute. "Can you move your fingers all right?" he asked as he gently dabbed them dry.

For answer, Kirk flexed his fingers two or three times. "It'll be all right," he said lightly. "Don't worry - this is nothing, compared to - " He broke off, a muscle jerking momentarily in his cheek. Then he took a deep breath, and smiled. "Thanks, Spock."

"You will tell me if it gives you any bother," Spock said anxiously.

"Yes, Spock; I'll tell you," Kirk promised. He watched Spock leave, then crossed to the bed. He was asleep almost before his head touched the pillow.

Kirk woke early, and lay for a while comparing his two visits to Vulcan. Although it was as impossible to relax properly this time as last the reason was different, and he admitted to himself that but for the danger of discovery he would be quite enjoying himself. He liked T'Pau, he decided - last time he had been unable to consider whether he liked her or not. About Sarek, he was still unsure.

He got up, and moved over to the window. Pulling aside the curtain, he looked out over the gardens. It looked most inviting in the early morning light, and he decided to dress quickly and go and see if Spock was awake; it would be pleasant out there before the heat of the day. Again, he couldn't help but compare his two visits here - before, the last thing he wanted to do was see the Captain before he must.

As he washed, he realised that he had bruised his fingers badly; although they were not paining him too much, the dark marking of a bruise showed clearly. Unconcerned, he quickly forgot about it as he completed dressing. He was half-way to the door when there was a knock on it.

"Come."

It was Spock. "How's your hand?" the Vulcan asked immediately.

"It's all right, Spock. It looks worse than it is. I can move all my fingers okay - look." He wiggled his fingers actively. "I couldn't do that if I'd damaged anything."

"No," Spock admitted, though he didn't look convinced. The bruise looked nasty. He realised however that it would only worry Kirk if he didn't accept the reassurance, and changed the subject. "I wondered if you'd like to go out before it gets too hot?" he added.

Kirk chuckled. "I had the same idea," he replied. "Shall we go?"

Sarek spent much of the night in thought. He cared little for Kirk or his welfare, he admitted frankly to himself, but Spock's behaviour, as outlined in that tape he had so carelessly left behind, could reflect badly on the family name if it became public knowledge. Besides, to be a senior officer the Human must be quite capable, despite his youth - and one did not wilfully damage a good guard-sehlat or a pedigree lahrat. He decided that he must speak to his son about Kirk.

That it might prove difficult to do so, he understood; Spock kept the man close to his side. Sarek realised that he might even have to tell Spock directly that he wanted to speak to him privately.

However, it proved less difficult than he had anticipated. Over breakfast - a meal to which the two younger men arrived together - Sarek watched Spock, wondering how to broach the subject without raising his son's suspicions - he knew he must catch Spock off his guard. Kirk noticed this; guessing that Sarek must certainly want an opportunity to congratulate his son on his latest achievement without outsiders being present, the Human decided to absent himself for a while. He looked over at T'Pau as the meal ended.

"Would you have time to tell me about the plants in the garden, Ma'am?" he asked. "Spock doesn't seem to know much about them." He cast a teasing, laughing glance at his friend as he spoke, knowing his comment had been a very accurate one. Captain Spock had known very little about the plants in the garden - and had cared less. T'Pau noticed the glance, and registered yet another change - on his last visit the Human had been much more subdued - he looked much happier now. Sarek, intent on his own thoughts, missed the exchange.

"Yes, of course James," T'Pau said. "Now, if you like." She also had realised that Sarek wished to talk to Spock alone, and mentally applauded the Human's quiet tact.

Spock opened his mouth, then changed his mind about what he had meant to say. What logical reason could he have for wanting to avoid being left alone with his father?

"Don't stay out too long, James," he said. "Remember, the sun here is stronger than Earth's - you don't want to get sunburned."

Sarek led Spock into his study. The younger Vulcan glanced quickly around, mentally comparing it with his own father's study, identifying the differences. A big desk dominated the room; a desk still clearly in use despite Sarek's retirement. For a moment, Spock wondered what it was that occupied his 'father's' time - was it only the music that Jim had mentioned? Then his attention moved on. Chairs... a bookcase... Even at this distance Spock could identify familiar friends. Sarek, then, valued his dead wife's books sufficiently to keep them here, in his study. Spock wondered if his counterpart had ever read them. Somehow, it seemed unlikely.

A big French window opened onto the garden. Spock recognised Amanda's touch again; French windows were unknown in Vulcan architecture. Spock had never understood why; they seemed eminently practical for a hot climate. They stood open, allowing the last traces of perfume from the night-flowering bushes to drift in before the scent faded in the burning heat of the day, and Spock wondered if Sarek really appreciated the scents, or if he merely retained a habit his dead wife must have originated. The resemblances were legion; the differences, very few.

Sarek lifted a tape from the desk and put it in the player. He ran it forward for some moments, then activated the playback.

"... for James. I hunger to hear him crying out, begging for mercy; I hunger to hold his submissive body, to enjoy him... I long to feel his abject surrender to my strength, and his disgust in my possession of him only sharpens my pleasure.

"Here, at least, I..."

The voice clicked off. Sarek looked straight at Spock, noting the expression on his face.

Spock's main reaction was an incredulous 'NO!' How many tapes had his counterpart left lying around? It was mingled with horror that anyone else should know of the humiliation that Kirk had suffered. Bad enough that he and McCoy both knew.

Sarek watched grimly, interpreting the reaction. Guilt. Horror that his father should know. Possibly outrage that his privacy had been breached, but that was not important now.

"Well, Spock?" Sarek asked harshly. "What excuse have you to offer for your behaviour?"

Spock swallowed nervously. He had anticipated problems, but not this one. "I... have nothing to say, sir."

"Nothing? No reason? No explanation?"

"Whatever my relationship with James Kirk, surely it concerns only him and me," Spock said quietly.

"Normally I might agree, but this tape makes it clear that you ill-use him disgracefully. No wonder the man is nervous! Is there ever a day passes that you do not ill-use him?" Sarek demanded.

An old Human paradox came to mind - 'Have you stopped beating your wife yet?' Whether he answered yes or no... "Does he really seem to you to be unhappy, sir?" he asked.

"He is clearly afraid of something," Sarek replied harshly. "This tape indicates as clearly that it is you he fears."

"Why not ask James if he is afraid of me?" Spock asked reasonably. "I could assure you that I do not ill-treat him, that I have never ill-treated him, but I think you would not believe me."

"And have him say he is not because he is too afraid of you to admit it? Besides the tape tells me that you control his mind. You could force him to deny fear."

"Sir, he is my friend. He has no cause to fear me, I promise you."

"This tape, then, means nothing? Perhaps you have forgotten all that it says - will I play it completely through to remind you?"

"That... will not be necessary." Spock had no wish to hear his counterpart rehearsing the tale of his sadism. "Whatever it says, whatever truth it might once have held - is no longer applicable."

"Then you do admit that you have ill-treated Kirk?"

There was no answer that Spock could give. The truth was the only thing that would declare his innocence - but for Kirk's sake the truth must remain hidden, for if Sarek learned that Kirk had killed his son, what might he do to the Human?

"I admit nothing, sir."

"That you are his lover is not in itself shameful; if he is the partner to whom you are drawn I realise that you could not resist when the blood fever came upon you. But that you should wilfully give him pain... I saw his hand this morning. What did you do to him last night?"

"I did nothing. He caught it in the door."

"Is that what you told him to say? Why, Spock? Why do you use him so, and still pretend concern when he goes out into the sun?"

"I did not injure him, sir."

"Spock, I am trying to understand," Sarek said. His voice, still harsh, was trying to be reasonable and patient. "In the past, when slavery was still the normal fate of the weak, the defeated, our people were often as cruel as this tape indicates you are. Is that what it is? Do you see him as a slave, subject to your whims?"

"No, sir."

"Then why? You must have some reason."

"I do not ill-treat James Kirk, sir," Spock repeated helplessly.

"Perhaps you have another word for it. I see your behaviour as wanton cruelty, for which there can be no excuse. That you do not attempt to give me one shows that you also know your behaviour to be inexcusable. I am ashamed that my son could be so unVulcan. If it were possible, I would disown you."

Spock's lips closed on the answer he must not give. "I regret that you should wish to take such an extreme step, sir," he said stiffly. "I can only repeat that I have done nothing to warrant it. Perhaps if you watch us together, you will realise it. Whatever happened in the past is past; and you have no need to feel shame for my behaviour. I regret that it would give rise to unfortunate speculation should we leave before the week is up, and that we are therefore compelled to remain under your roof to prevent it; you would undoubtedly prefer not to have to see me again. Now, if you will excuse me, I think that this interview no longer serves any useful purpose." He turned towards the door.

Lies, thought Sarek. All lies. Sadism was an almost incurable form of insanity, and the failure to recognise his behaviour as such indicated that Spock had passed the stage where he could be cured. Only one thing mattered - the family's shame must be stopped, and stopped now, before Spock did something that would make his insanity common knowledge. There was only one way.

Sarek would have preferred to do it openly, but he was getting old; Spock was younger, stronger, more agile - and clearly cared nothing for anyone but himself and the gratification of his own desires. Moving quietly, Sarek lifted an ornate and very sharp paperknife from the desk, and moved after his son.

The early morning scents were, if anything, even more appealing than those of the evening, and for the second time that morning Kirk breathed deeply in appreciation. Used though he was to living in a completely closed environment he enjoyed the rare opportunities to breathe fresh air - although he knew that many Starfleet crewmen suffered from a mild degree of agoraphobia. These men could look out at space through a viewscreen, but became mildly anxious unless they were surrounded by walls. It was particularly prevalent among engineering crew, who rarely had the opportunity to participate in landing party duties.

Kirk really was interested in the biological data of the garden, although he had not dared to ask about it last time. T'Pau knew her subject well, and they were soon deep in a discussion of botanical adaptations to drought conditions. But all the time the Vulcan woman watched Kirk more closely than he realised, noting that as they spoke, his tension had eased only fractionally. After a while he glanced back at the house.

"What is it, James?"

"I was just wondering how long Spock would be."

"You enjoy his company?"

"Yes. He's been really good to me, Ma'am. Before - with - " Kirk stopped abruptly, realising that he had nearly allowed his tongue to betray them. "Before I knew him, I had no-one. No friends, nothing. Then he came. It was like waking from a nightmare."

What was he about to say? T'Pau wondered. "I think perhaps you have been good for him also," she said. "He has changed; he is more... mature, somehow... "

Kirk glanced quickly at her. T'Pau was the danger, then, rather than Sarek? She was the perceptive one in this household.

"We would, perhaps, be better to return to the house," T'Pau went on. "The sun will soon be too hot for you, unused to it as you are."

Kirk grinned slightly. "Yes, Ma'am. Especially since Spock warned me about getting sunburned. It would worry him if I did."

Spock, worried about someone else? T'Pau thought. Well, perhaps. She directed Kirk back towards the house. Ahead of them was the open French window; through it they could see the two figures facing each other. Spock's voice sounded clearly. "... think that this interview no longer serves any useful purpose."

Spock turned towards the door. Kirk bit his lip, wondering just what had been said. And then Sarek picked up something from the desk - it looked like a knife - and followed Spock. His intention was obvious.

"No!" Kirk gasped. He sprang forward, running desperately. He threw himself through the open window and flung himself between Spock and Sarek. The older Vulcan, already poised, was unable to stop himself; and the knife sank deep into Kirk's chest.

"Jim!" The requirements of his role were forgotten; Spock dropped to his knees at Kirk's side, sliding one arm under the Human's shoulders to support him, and with the other trying desperately to stem the flow of blood from the wound. Bright red blood...

Time for questions later. He looked up at Sarek, no longer the possibly erring son or the Starship Captain, but the Starbase Commander faced with a full emergency.

"Contact the Starbase. Have them find Dr. McCoy and get him here - tell them it's an emergency. Hurry!" He looked down. "Jim... "

Kirk smiled weakly up at him. "He was going to kill you. I couldn't let him do that... "

Sarek still stood, stunned into immobility by the speed of events. It was T'Pau who went to the videophone and contacted the Starbase, then returned to where Spock held Kirk close.

"We should get him up to bed, Spock - he will be more comfortable there."

"I can't move," Spock replied. "I need both arms to carry him, but I also need one hand for the wound. I daren't let it bleed freely for even the short time it would take to get him upstairs. Could you bring a blanket down? It would help keep him warm until McCoy comes."

McCoy had been looking forward to this leave. Granted, the heat and the slightly increased gravity were inconveniences, but he knew from experience that within twenty-four hours he would have adjusted to the gravity at least, and as long as he remained indoors during the heat of the day, in the Base's air-conditioned lounges, he would suffer no ill-effects.

He had seriously considered accepting Spock's invitation to go with them, realising that another friend might be a good thing to help the Vulcan get safely through the next week. However, the Captain had never extended such an invitation and he finally decided that his presence, without precedent as it was, might actually complicate matters. Spock saw his point, and accepted it reluctantly.

Now McCoy lay in bed, enjoying the luxury of not having to get up until he wanted to. He was wide-awake, however, and his mind was active.

How were Spock and Jim getting on? Their main advantage lay in the unlikely nature of the exchange; no-one, surely, would dream of an exchange of Spocks between two universes. Even although he had actually visited the other universe - albeit briefly - he still found it hard to believe.

His thoughts were interrupted by the insistent buzzing of the videophone at his bedside. He flicked it on. "McCoy here."

A Vulcan woman appeared on the small screen. "Dr. McCoy, I am T'Pau, mother to Spock. We require your presence here immediately; James Kirk has been injured."

"How badly?"

"Severely. He is bleeding badly."

"Give me the house co-ordinates." Even as he spoke McCoy was moving, starting to dress, ignoring the fact that his caller could see him. He noted the co-ordinates, and said, "I'll be there inside ten minutes, McCoy out." He punched the videophone off and on again. "Operator, put me on to the U.S.S. Enterprise."

He had just finished dressing when the 'phone buzzed.

"McCoy."

"Uhura here, Doctor."

"Beam me aboard. Urgent!"

On the Enterprise he took some minutes to collect a comprehensive medi-kit, and to alert M'Benga. "Anything else I need, I'll contact you - get it down to me immediately. Oh, and you'd better stand by, M'Benga - just in case I need you."

"Yes, Doctor."

McCoy hurried back to the transporter room. "Co-ordinates set?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Energise."

He materialised in a garden, barely yards from the house. An open French window beckoned; he went in.

Spock was kneeling, supporting Kirk. T'Pau knelt beside him, tucking a blanket around the Human. An elderly Vulcan, presumably Sarek, stood watching, a bloodstained knife in his hand, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. McCoy hurried forward.

T'Pau made way for him.

"Where's he hurt?" McCoy already had his pouch open.

"His chest." Spock raised the hand that had been clamping the wound, and blood spurted. McCoy moved fast.

After a minute he looked up, and saw the anguish in Spock's eyes. "He should be all right, Spock - you kept him from losing too much blood. I won't try to pretend it isn't serious, but he has a very good chance."

Spock let his head droop for a moment in relief. McCoy gave him the moment before he added, "We should get him up to bed now."

"Yes, of course. Here, or the Enterprise?"

"Here. I'd rather not beam him up until the wound has had a chance to begin healing."

Spock swung the Human up into his arms. T'Pau led the way, opening the doors, and McCoy followed after Spock, leaving Sarek still standing, stunned by what he had done, stunned by Spock's evident deep concern, while he struggled to make sense of the conflicting data.

Between them, Spock and McCoy undressed Kirk, and put him to bed. McCoy then gave the injured Human another check, more carefully this time, and an injection.

"Right," he told them at last. "You'll do, Jim - but you'll be off duty for a full week after we get back to the Enterprise. Now - suppose you tell me what happened?"

Spock and Kirk looked at each other. It was T'Pau who answered.

"My husband tried to kill Spock. James jumped between and was stabbed instead," she said simply.

"But... Why should he want to kill Spock?" McCoy asked blankly. Spock thought quickly. Here, in front of T'Pau, a modified truth would serve. McCoy would be able to read between the lines. "He believed I was ill-treating James, and would not accept my assurance that I was not. He spoke of disowning me. I repeated my assurance, and told him there was nothing further to discuss. Then I turned to leave."

McCoy looked sharply at Spock; Kirk, becoming drowsy from the drugs McCoy had given him, didn't realise the significance of Spock's words.

T'Pau said slowly, "When you were here last, I would have agreed with Sarek. This time... This time, you've changed. You've grown up, Spock. Last time I would have agreed that James was tense, unsure, even nervous. This time, he is still nervous about something, but he's happy. From what he told me in the garden, Spock, I cannot believe that you would ever harm him."

"No," Spock said quietly. "I would never harm him. He is the brother I never had, and there is nothing I would not do to give him happiness. He knew so little happiness before I found him."

"You have changed," T'Pau said. "You were always very self-centred, Spock. I never trusted you. But now... Yes, I think I trust you now."

Alone, Sarek slowly regained control of himself. He had had little respect for Kirk, and he was not sure whether he respected him now or not. Kirk could have been free of Spock's cruelty, yet he had saved his master. Was he so dependent, then, on that mastery?

Yet Spock's behaviour had not fitted a pattern of cruelty. He had reacted as though he truly cared. And the Doctor had not been surprised at Spock's apparent concern. Could it have been genuine? Was it that Spock would hurt Kirk himself, but be concerned if someone else did? No. That was not logical. Either he cared for Kirk's well-being or he did not. His behaviour now indicated he did.

So what was the explanation for the tape?

Slowly, Sarek wiped the paperknife clean and replaced it on the desk. Perhaps the Doctor might be able to advise him. Meanwhile, he should inquire about Kirk; although he had not intended harming the Human he had done so, and had done nothing to succour him; he should at least indicate his contrition and concern.

In Kirk's room he found Spock sitting beside the bed watching Kirk. The Human was sleeping, apparently peacefully. The Doctor stood there too, one hand resting, as it might be casually, on Spock's shoulder, and the simple fact that Spock let it lie there said more clearly then any words that he was obtaining comfort or reassurance, perhaps both, from the touch. T'Pau was gathering the Human's bloodstained clothes.

Only she acknowledged Sarek's appearance; the other two were too intent on the injured Human.

"How is he?" Sarek asked hoarsely.

"He will recover," T'Pau replied evenly.

"I did not intend to harm him," Sarek said.

"It was your son you meant to kill," T'Pau said. There was no accusation in her tone.

"I had evidence of primitive, savage violence existing in his nature," Sarek answered the unspoken charge. "His behaviour is a disgrace to our name."

T'Pau looked directly at the bed. "Does he look savage or violent?"

"It seems not. T'Pau, now I do not know what to think." He swallowed, and went to the bed. "Doctor... "

McCoy glanced at him. "Yes, sir?" He sounded polite but unenthusiastic.

"How is Mr. Kirk? You must know... I meant no harm to him."

"I realise that. But did you not stop to think that by killing Spock, you would harm Jim Kirk?"

"I believed that Spock's death might help Mr. Kirk."

"No," said McCoy bluntly. "It wouldn't."

Sarek hesitated. "Doctor, may I speak with you privately?"

"Very well. Spock, call me if there's any change in Jim's condition."

Without taking his eyes from the sleeping Human Spock nodded, and McCoy followed Sarek out. Behind them, T'Pau also left the room, taking with her the bloodstained clothes.

Sarek took McCoy to his study. "Sit down, Doctor." As McCoy obeyed, Sarek paced across the floor in a fashion that would have been called nervous had he been Human.

"Doctor, in your position, you have occasion to examine Mr. Kirk regularly?"

"Yes."

"Would you say he frequently suffers... minor injuries? Bruises, or... ?"

"No."

"Has he ever suffered... unexplained injuries?"

"Nnnoo... He was attacked and robbed once, I remember, and he's misjudged in the gym and fallen once or twice, but that was all long ago."

"Would you say my son is concerned, when Mr. Kirk is hurt?"

"Yes," McCoy replied promptly. "Very concerned."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Sarek paced across the room again. "Doctor, what I have to say is... not easy for me; it concerns my family's honour. I found a recorded tape in Spock's room after his last visit here. I thought it a music tape he had borrowed from me; in fact it was a personal one. In it... In it, he spoke of... of deliberately hurting Mr. Kirk, as if he enjoyed doing it. Doctor, are you sure that he is not abusing Mr. Kirk?"

So that was how he knew! Somehow McCoy controlled his instinctive response and answered calmly. "Quite sure, sir, but surely Jim's response today must prove that? He saw Spock's danger and moved to save him. Would he do that if Spock was cruel to him?"

"I do not know. My understanding of Humans leads me to suspect that in many cases of cruelty there are often willing victims. How can I be sure that Kirk is not one such willing victim, unable to face life without his master?"

"I admit that you do often get that," McCoy replied. "But anyone that psychotic would never get through Starfleet's psychology tests. Sadists occasionally slip through, because they are usually astute enough to hide the truth, but masochists aren't. There's nothing in Jim Kirk's psychology profile to indicate masochism."

"What if... telepathic control were exerted?"

"That could provide complications." That tape must have been very detailed! he thought. "However, I know for a fact that Spock taught Jim Kirk how to shield his mind against telepathic influence. I was present when he did."

"How could he do that?" Sarek asked. "Telepathy is an instinctive ability; there is no way that a non-telepath can be taught even the most elementary shielding."

"Spock found a way." Damn! How far have I put my foot in it? Must warn Spock.

"Doctor - Spock denied ill-treating Mr. Kirk. You say he does not. But that tape exists and must mean something."

"I can't explain it," McCoy answered. At least I can, but I won't. "All I can tell you is that Spock and Jim Kirk have a good, close, sincerely affectionate relationship - and each of them, as you saw today, would willingly give his life for the other."

Kirk was confined to bed for two days. Spock never left him, even sleeping on a couch in his bedroom, alert to waken instantly should Kirk call out, or even if his regular breathing altered. Their days were spent playing chess, or simply sitting quietly, exchanging infrequent comments. But Kirk was becoming increasingly restless, and on the third day McCoy finally allowed him to get up, provided he remained indoors during the heat of the day. Kirk agreed, but as the evening cool began to replace the breathless heat he looked outside longingly.

"Okay, Jim," McCoy growled at last. "Half an hour, no more."

"I'll see it's no longer," Spock promised. They went out and disappeared among the bushes.

Sarek's mind was in complete turmoil. Never had he expected to be so confused! Not all of his logic, his years of reasoned thought, were sufficient to help him make sense out of this paradoxical situation.

He paced the garden, seeking in its peaceful atmosphere some answer. What should he do - what could he do - to resolve things? His son could not be permitted to behave unVulcanly... but was he? All the immediate evidence said he was a true Vulcan. Only that tape...

Spock walked into sight, intent on an evening moth. Sarek was slightly surprised that he was alone - it was the first time for three days - but supposed that his son had decided to stretch his legs for a few minutes. Sarek strode over to him.

"Spock!"

"Yes, sir?" His son's voice was quietly respectful, he noticed, despite the events of three days previously. It was a tone Spock had not used for years.

"I have been considering the events of the past days. Your relationship with Mr. Kirk is your own affair, and I accept that you are not now ill-using him - but I warn you, Spock, that should I ever again discover evidence that you are, that you have lied and forced Mr. Kirk to lie, then I will have no mercy on you.

"You consider you own him, or so it would seem - just as in the past, strong leaders owned the weak. You are drawn to him as your sexual partner. Of that I make no criticism. I told you already, I realise that you could not resist the urge that drew you to him.

"However, both as your First Officer, and as the mate who stands between you and the agony of pon farr, he is a valuable possession, and it is foolish and wasteful to harm him - quite apart from the shame of such atavistic behaviour.

"Deliberate sadism is a voluntary return to Vulcan's violent past; and anyone who would wish to return to those days is exhibiting a form of insanity that I cannot and will not condone.

"I will rather preserve the honour of our family name by informing Vulcan of your disgraceful and vindictive treatment of one whose welfare should be important - "

"No! Sarek, no! Spock's never hurt me! It was the Captain... " Kirk sprang into sight from where he had been sitting, unable to bear any longer Sarek's bitter denunciation of Spock.

"Jim!"

At the warning, Kirk broke off his urgent defence, realising that he had betrayed them.

"So something is being kept from me?" Sarek asked.

Kirk took a deep breath. "I... don't deny I was ill-used for a while," he said slowly. "But it wasn't by Spock. It was the Captain before Spock."

"How, then, do you explain a tape, made by Spock, describing... what he wanted to do to you?"

Kirk and Spock looked at each other. They had been driven into a corner - only the truth would serve now, whatever the consequences. Imperceptibly, Spock moved closer to Kirk, alert to defend him should Sarek react violently.

At last, Kirk said reluctantly, "Spock - this Spock - is not your son, sir."

"Not... Explain."

Hesitantly, Kirk obeyed. Without going into detail, he told of the humiliation he had suffered at the Captain's hands; how Spock, in his own universe, deprived by death of his James Kirk, had learned how to penetrate the barriers between the universes, searching for a replacement Kirk, and found him; and in pity and outrage had crossed through the barrier to rescue him. He told how the two Spocks had fought, and how, when the Captain seemed to be winning, he had acted.

"There was a knife on the desk. Just as you did, I picked it up... and I killed the Captain. Spock was going to take me back to his own universe, but there was the Mindsifter... It was too important... I couldn't leave the Enterprise; so Spock took the body back instead, and returned to take the Captain's place."

Sarek drew a deep breath. "I see," he said quietly. "I... cannot blame you. How many others know of this?"

"Only Doctor McCoy," Spock said. "Jim was confused, unhappy, and in poor physical condition. I needed a Human to help reassure him - and who better than a doctor? In the other universe, McCoy was our friend; I thought it probable that he would be so here, also. We decided to keep you in ignorance of the truth - what good would it have done to tell you that your son was a throwback to Vulcan's savage past?" He hesitated. "And although she does not know, T'Pau has seen a difference in me. She does know that something has happened to... Spock."

"When did this happen?"

"During the mission that resulted in the capture of the Mindsifter, and the award of the Scientific Legion of Honour. Your son performed that part of the mission that earned it; all I did was complete the mission," Spock told him.

"He was a good officer," Kirk said quietly. "He ran the ship well. It was only... He didn't know how to handle affection. He was ashamed of feeling it, and because he was ashamed he acted to prove that he felt nothing of such weakness. We think that if his mother had lived, she might have taught him how to handle his Human reactions. As it was - when he lay dying, he told me he loved me. But until then, all he ever wanted of me was obedience; and he enforced it. He was even jealous of McCoy. He wanted to keep me entirely to himself."

"The disgrace... " Sarek whispered.

"Is known to no-one. McCoy will not speak for Jim's sake. Jim and I - " Spock glanced at the Human. "We have no need to talk of the past. I am Captain Spock now, and I have been accepted as such by the crew without hesitation. Coming here has been the most difficult part of the... the imposture; but you did not guess, and had it not been for that tape, you need never have known. To the world, to the Federation, Sarek of Vulcan still has a worthy son in the Captain of the Enterprise, who has brought honour to his name."

"Yes," Sarek said quietly at last. "I think that is true. I do indeed have a son who brings honour to our name. Spock, this is your home; I am proud to acknowledge you as my son."

T'PAU'S JOURNAL

My assessment of Spock's character was correct, although I was far from guessing the full truth. Perhaps this Spock is justified in believing that his counterpart was warped by the Human emotions no-one could teach him how to handle - we can never be certain.

However, this Spock is our son now, and I am glad of it - for all our sakes.

Poor James! I think that not even Spock can know just how much James suffered. But I can guess, when I remember his last visit here, and compare it with this one. Now that we have been told the truth, and he is no longer afraid that their imposture will be discovered, James has lost his nervousness and his joy in their friendship is clear to see. And so is our son's.

Spock - the original Spock - could have known that joy, and threw it away. The joy, the trust - and the trustworthiness, he threw them all away. Sarek despises his memory; but now, I can feel sorry for him. He could have had so much - but he never learned how to give. He could only take; whereas this man who is now our son gave up everything in order to help James Kirk. He gave, and did not even know if he would receive anything at all in return.

They will have problems still to overcome, and they both know it. Even although Sarek and I both acknowledge Spock, his altered behaviour cannot but arouse suspicion in any who knew the original well. Fortunately, few did; he kept his own counsel and had no close acquaintances that I know of.

Meanwhile, I look across the garden to the west; there will be another brilliant sunset tonight - the clouds are right for it. In the garden I can again see them, also watching the western sky, and through the open window I hear James laughing. The garden has never heard such a sound before, and yet it blends naturally with the birdsong. Confident, trusting, affectionate Human laughter - a sound the original Spock never heard.

With all my heart, I pity him.

PART II - THE ENTERPRISE

In the transporter room of Starbase Vulcan, Lt. Sam Kirk of Starfleet Security waited impatiently for permission to board his new ship, the U.S.S. Enterprise. He had reported early, hoping for a glimpse of his fellow-crewmen, but his chief curiosity remained unsatisfied - the transporter officer told him that the Captain and the First Officer had already gone on board with the Chief Medical Officer.

The other officers were also of interest, however, and Sam paid careful attention as the heads of department and the bridge crew were identified for him. The transporter chief, Kyle; Sulu, the helmsman; Chekov, the navigator, seeming impossibly young. Dr. M'Benga of the medical staff beamed up with a vibrantly beautiful young woman who proved to be Lt. Marlena Moreau, chief assistant to the Science Officer. Sam exchanged an approving nod with Taylor, the transporter officer - the Enterprise seemingly lived up to its reputation for having the most beautiful women in Starfleet. This impression was confirmed by the next two arrivals, African women glowingly radiant in the red uniforms of the Engineering section.

"The Lieutenant's your Communications Officer, Uhura," Taylor volunteered. "The others's Lt-Commander Charlene Masters, the new Chief Engineer."

"Oh. I thought Mr. Scott was Chief Engineer on the Enterprise?" Sam asked.

"Haven't you heard? He was killed during their last mission - an accident in one of the cargo holds, I believe. Miss Masters is the replacement - she took over when the Enterprise reported back to Vulcan."

"I've heard of her... but what do you know about the Captain?"

"Spock?" Taylor lowered his voice confidentially. "Well... "

"Hi, Sam, sorry to keep you waiting!"

The two men turned as a new voice broke in. "Martin! I didn't know you were on the Enterprise! And Aurelan - it's great to see you again."

Sam greeted these two old friends eagerly. Martin Evans he had known in basic training, and Aurelan Walters had caused him considerable heart-searching when they had served together aboard the Defiant.

"We saw the duty roster, and asked the Chief to let us meet you," Martin grinned. "If you've got all your gear, we'll beam up, see you settled - I've wangled it so that you're rooming with me - and there should be time to catch up on the news before Aurelan and I go on duty."

Talking eagerly the three said goodbye to Taylor, took their places on the transporter pads, and dissolved in a sparkle of light.

Sam dropped his gear off in his quarters and reported to the Security Chief, who told him to settle in to the ship, and report for duty next day. Martin and Aurelan were waiting to take him to the rec room that by tacit agreement was reserved for the use of the Security Section, who tended to be a rather clannish group when off duty. He was introduced to his fellow officers, some of whom he already knew, and quickly became involved in the excited babble of shop-talk that made him feel at home.

At last, taking advantage of a momentary lull in the conversation, Sam leaned forward eagerly. "Come on, then," he invited, "fill me in. What's the Captain like - and the First Officer?"

Martin laughed. "That's always the first question, isn't it?" he said. "The Captain - well, he's a strange one; Vulcan, you know - Spock. He's very efficient, scrupulously fair - but he's a bad one to cross. Like most Vulcans, he's very aloof, though he does mix now more than he used to. For a long time the only one he was at all friendly with was the First Officer."

"And Kirk's just as odd," Aurelan broke in.

"Kirk?" Sam asked interestedly, his attention caught by the coincidence of names.

"The First. I remember when I was posted to the Enterprise, it was about three months before I even laid eyes on him - really stuck-up he was then, kept to himself all the time. He's come out of his shell a bit lately, though - he was at the ship's dance a few weeks ago, and he's never done that before."

"Admit it, Aurelan - you've got a bit of a crush on him," Martin teased.

"I used to have," Aurelan conceded. "And I'm not the only one; a young, good-looking First Officer is bound to arouse interest. But I gave up hope long ago - he's never so much looked at any of us."

"Probably doesn't believe in getting involved with someone on board ship," Sam said easily. "I had a Captain like that once - off duty he was a real devil for women, but he never touched a member of his crew. Anyway, to get back to Kirk - is he any good at his job?"

"They call him the best First Officer in Starfleet," Martin said seriously, "and he lives up to his reputation."

"He's very young," Aurelan added, "but I've seen him in a duty situation, and I'd trust him with my life. Did you know, he's also the Science Officer? I believe it's quite common on Vulcan ships, but I've never heard of a Human holding both posts before."

"So you see, that proves it. Hey, that's odd," Martin interrupted himself suddenly. "Look, Aurelan, can you see the resemblance?"

"Why, yes - it's quite remarkable." Both were now staring at him intently and Sam felt uneasy.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I never noticed it before," Martin said, "but you do look quite like the First - older, of course, and taller, but the likeness is there. Are you related?"

"I shouldn't think so. What's his full name?"

"James T. Kirk. Hey, we'll be late for our watch - come on, Aurelan. See you later, Sam."

"See you," Sam replied absently, as Aurelan and Martin left. Picking up a magazine to discourage conversation he pretended to read, but he was thinking furiously.

It must be a coincidence; it couldn't be - not little Jimmy! A memory buried for years surfaced to show him a young, anguished, tear-stained face, wide hazel eyes raised imploringly as arms clung frantically around his neck.

"You won't forget me?" that grief-stricken child had begged so long ago; and Sam, impatient with his tearful young brother and longing to escape, had muttered some meaningless lie about sending for him when he was settled. Resigned to the inevitability of the separation, Jimmy had released him at last and Sam departed gratefully, quickly forgetting both his promise and the lonely child to whom it had been made.

Now, it seemed, that long-forgotten betrayal had caught up with him; if Jimmy was First Officer of the Enterprise, life could become very difficult. It would be wise, perhaps, to find out for certain, and he wondered how he could catch a glimpse of the First Officer without being seen himself.

A conversation at the next table caught his attention, and suggested a possibility. There was a concert in the main rec room that night, at which all ranks were welcome; Uhura would be singing, and as a rare event, the Captain had been persuaded to play for the crew.

As his neighbours left Sam rose and followed them - it was quite possible that the other Kirk would attend the concert, and if so Sam would be able to get a look at him while remaining himself hidden in the crowd.

The rec room was full, so many people that there were not enough seats for all. Sam found himself a place at the back of the room, well hidden among some of the junior officers, yet in a position that afforded him a good view of the attentive audience.

His appreciation of music was very limited, and as he had feared, he found the concert to be extremely boring. Despite a careful study, he could see no sign of anyone who might be the First Officer. He was just beginning to consider postponing his search when a newcomer took the stage, and he settled back interestedly. Sam might be tone-deaf, but there was nothing wrong with his appreciation of feminine beauty; and the lovely Uhura made even the boredom of the music endurable. To his surprise he even enjoyed her singing, the haunting quality of her voice evoking an unaccustomed response from him; so much so, in fact, that he gave an unconscious sigh of disappointment when the music faded into silence at last, and she yielded her place to the next performer.

As the man took his seat, Sam sat up alertly. So this was the Vulcan Captain of the Enterprise! Martin's judgement had been right, he thought; this Spock would be an excellent Captain, scrupulously fair, but intolerant of anything less than one's best.

The audience fell silent as the first notes came rippling from the harp, and Sam winced, immediately losing interest - this music certainly did not appeal to him. It would be tactless, however, to walk out in the middle of the Captain's performance so, seeking a more interesting diversion, Sam resumed his scrutiny of his companions.

Almost at once his attention was arrested at the sight of a man who sat on the floor near the Captain's feet. He had certainly not been there before, so he must have entered with him and taken the only vacant place on the low stage. At first all that Sam could see was the blue shirt of the Science section; then someone in front of him changed position, and he noticed the Commander's rings on the man's sleeve. Sam knew already that the First Officer was the only full Commander in the Science section - this must be the man he had looked for.

To his annoyance, however, he could not see his face; his attention remained fixed on the Captain throughout his performance. Only when the music ended and the Captain rose from his seat did the Commander move, turning slightly to look up and make some smiling remark.

Although he had been half expecting it the moment of recognition came as a shock to Sam - it was his brother. Instinctively remaining concealed, Sam watched as he rose to his feet and stood talking quietly to the group of senior officers that gathered around the Vulcan's tall figure. Suddenly he turned pale, swayed and began to collapse. Only because he was watching so intently did Sam see what followed; the Captain, who had appeared to be deep in conversation with the Chief Medical Officer, abruptly turned and caught his First Officer, saving him from what could have been a very unpleasant fall from the stage. To anyone else it might have seemed only an unusually swift reflex action, but Sam could not rid himself of the conviction that the Vulcan had known what was happening, and had begun to respond even before the emergency had occurred.

Now he stood supporting the half-conscious Commander while an obviously senior doctor made a quick check; there was a brief consultation between the two men, then the Captain lifted the protesting Kirk into his arms, and followed the doctor from the rec room.

The incident had attracted considerable attention, and was discussed in worried tones. Sam turned to his neighbour, whom he recognised as the helmsman, Sulu.

"What's wrong with the First Officer?" he asked.

"Haven't you heard? Oh, of course, you're the new Security man. Well, Mr. Kirk had an accident on leave - strictly speaking he should still be in sickbay, but he wanted to attend the concert, so... " Sulu broke off as the doctor re-entered the room and gestured for silence.

"No cause for alarm," he said reassuringly. "Mr. Kirk is all right - just a little over-tired - but he'll be back on duty in a few days. In the meantime, the captain asks you to go on with the concert."

As the audience settled back into their seats Sam took the opportunity to slip out and return to his quarters. He had been granted a few days' respite before he need face his brother, and he wanted to consider the best method of approach.

He had a problem, he realised as he lay on his bed; he had hoped that this transfer to the Enterprise would eventually lead him to the coveted position of Security Chief, but this unexpected encounter could upset all his plans. As First Officer, Jimmy's influence would be vital - and he was certain that his brother could not have forgiven or forgotten that traumatic experience of being suddenly cut off from everything he had believed in.

At least, though, he was forewarned - Jimmy was not; he must try to think out some method of approach before Jimmy realised who he was.

A few days later Sam was in the duty room when the Security Chief beckoned to him, and to Martin Evans.

"Transporter Room," he ordered. "A package to be collected and delivered to the Security Hold - Mr. Kirk will be waiting for you there."

As they left the duty room Sam was aware of intense excitement - this was his opportunity. Turning to Evans, he said, "Martin, do me a favour, will you?"

"What's that?"

"You remember what you said the other day, that I looked like the First Officer? Well, it's a long story, and I'll tell you later, but... he is my brother. I haven't seen him in years, and it might be awkward... he doesn't know yet that I'm on board. When we've delivered this package to him, go quickly, will you, and give me a chance to talk to him alone. I'd like to set things straight with him before anyone else finds out."

"Sure, Sam; I understand."

"Thanks - and keep quiet about this for now, will you?"

"I'll not say a word," Martin promised.

Outside the Security Hold the Commander was waiting; he took the package without looking at them, keyed the door release, and entered the hold. In response to a signal from Sam, Martin nodded and slipped away so that when the Commander emerged they were alone. Sam waited while he re-sealed the door, then said very quietly, "Hello, Jimmy."

The Commander whirled, astonishment flaring in his eyes; for a moment he stared blankly at the man before him, then recognition dawned.

"Sam!" he exclaimed. "But how... why... what are you doing here?"

"It's a long story and one I'm not very proud of," Sam replied. "I know what you must think of me, and I don't blame you - but at least let me explain. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Yes, of course." Kirk seemed stunned. "We can - "

At that moment, Uhura's voice came from the intercom. "Commander Kirk to the bridge."

With a visible effort Jim looked away and crossed to the speaker. "Acknowledged," he said. Turning back to Sam he said hurriedly, "Come to my quarters tonight. There's a reception the Admiral's giving - I have to go with Sp... with the Captain; but we can talk while I'm getting ready. I must go now."

With a sigh of relief Sam watched him leave - the first hurdle had been overcome, and at least his brother had reacted quietly; of course, he had been taken by surprise, as Sam had intended. Now it only remained to convince his brother that he fully regretted his actions so long ago, but that should be easy - Jimmy had always been a trusting child. Yet it would be as well to be careful; his position as a Starfleet Commander at so young an age indicated that perhaps he might not be so easy to dominate as he had been then.

Later that evening Sam signalled at the First Officer's door, and obeyed the customary summons. "Come!"

As he entered Jim turned from the mirror where he had been smoothing his hair, and the two men studied each other in silence, assimilating the changes the years had made.

Sam narrowed his eyes thoughtfully - little Jimmy had certainly grown up! He was still slightly smaller, but stockily built now; his hazel eyes held an unfamiliar quiet serenity, and in the impressive dress uniform he wore he radiated an air of confident authority. It was he who broke the silence.

"Why, Sam?" he asked levelly.

Useless to pretend he didn't understand. Sam hesitated a moment, then replied at last, "I meant to keep my promise, Jimmy, please believe that, at least. I thought, if I could get a start, make a home for us somewhere... I found a job and applied for custody, but it was refused - they said you were too young, I couldn't look after you properly. Then I lost my job, and drifted for a while. I told myself it would be better to wait until you were old enough to leave the orphanage, that they could give you more than I could. I let them persuade me not to take you away - and I'd sunk pretty low by then - nothing criminal, but the life I was leading wasn't right for a kid, you were better off where you were."

"But the letter - that was cruel," Kirk said quietly. "You were all I had - and you didn't want me."

"I know - but at the time it seemed... I had nothing to offer you, you'd have been ashamed of me; I thought... he'll be better off if he forgets all about me, makes his own way in life. So I sent that letter. It seemed right at the time, but I've never ceased to regret it. Soon after that I took a good look at myself, and didn't like what I saw; so I started to pull myself together. I joined Starfleet Security. When I was on my feet again I realised what I'd done to you, but I was too ashamed to face you, so I kept out of your life. When I got this posting to the Enterprise, I didn't know you were First Officer - if I had, I'd have refused it. Now it's too late; I'm here, and we'll have to make the best of things. You don't have to acknowledge me as your brother - if anyone comments on the resemblance, we can always say we're distant cousins. I'll do whatever you want; but believe this, Jimmy." Sam took a deep breath and held his brother's eyes, almost believing he meant what he said. "I've never ceased to regret what I did to you; I'll understand if you can't forgive me - but now that we've found each other again... please try?"

For a moment there was silence, then Jim's face softened, his lips parted in a grin of delight, and he moved forward to hug his brother fiercely.

"Oh Sam, I'm so glad to see you," he choked.

Sam returned the hug, holding his brother close. Over Jim's head he smiled in satisfaction - it was going to be all right, Jimmy hadn't changed after all, he was still as sentimental as ever; but mingled with the satisfaction he experienced a stirring of a long-forgotten tenderness for his young brother that he had not felt since they were children, before their parents vanished. Involuntarily, his smile broadened to one of pleasure.

"So it's all right?" he asked.

"Let's forget it." Jim's hands tightened for a moment, then he stepped back. "Let me look at you."

"Thank you, Jimmy. Well, I see that you made out all right."

"Yes, in the end. The orphanage made sure I had a good eduction, and I won a scholarship to Starfleet Academy."

"You always did have the brains. First Officer at your age - and for a Vulcan Captain; you must be good."

"Spock helped me a lot," Kirk said. "He's been a good friend - you'll like him."

"Will I?" Sam asked wryly - a Vulcan seemed a strange choice of companion for his impulsive, emotional brother. He was about to say so when the door buzzer sounded.

"Come!"

It was the Captain, also in dress uniform; an idic medallion hung around his neck, twin to the one Sam now noticed his brother was wearing.

"Jim, are you ready? We should leave - " The Vulcan broke off as he noticed the visitor.

"Spock, you'll never guess what's happened!" In his excitement Jim caught at the Captain's arm; noticing this, the fact that the Vulcan did not at once move away, and the fleeting, indulgent glance he gave the Human, Sam was intrigued - Vulcans, he knew, did not like to be touched, but this one was accepting it with every appearance of equanimity.

"Tell me, then," the quiet voice said calmly.

"It's Sam, my brother - here on the Enterprise! Isn't it wonderful?"

"Indeed." The impassive eyes turned to Sam, studying him with penetrating intensity before the Vulcan glanced back at Jim. "Shall I make your excuses to the Admiral? You and your brother will have much to discuss."

"Excuses? Oh, the reception... I'd almost forgotten. No, I'll go with you - I want to. Sam and I will have plenty of time to catch up."

"As you wish. If you will excuse us, Lieutenant?"

"Of course, sir. Goodnight, Jim... er... Commander."

"Commander on duty, Jim when we're alone," his brother laughed, escorting him to the door. As it slid shut Sam caught a final glimpse of the two figures, his brother's face radiant with excitement and pleasure, the enquiring tilt of one slanting eyebrow as the Vulcan moved forward; then Sam was alone in the corridor, staring blankly at a closed door.

Sam Kirk quickly found his relationship to the First Officer made little difference to his position on board. There was considerable interested discussion when it first became known, but when it became clear that the Commander was not inclined to favouritism, the fact was quickly accepted and forgotten.

For his own part Sam was perfectly content as he settled into the routine of the Enterprise; he had achieved his aim, to regain his brother's confidence, and as a bonus he now had the friendship of a serene, self-possessed man he could respond to as he could not have done to the dependent child Jimmy had once been. Later, perhaps, he might be persuaded to use his influence on Sam's behalf, but for the moment it was enough simply to enjoy their new relationship.

Jim - he could no longer think of him as Jimmy - was indeed an excellent First Officer, liked and respected by the crew, and possessing in full the confidence of the exacting Vulcan Captain.

That friendship continued to puzzle Sam; although he was now a regular visitor to his brother's quarters, in off-duty hours much of Jim's free time seemed to be spent with Spock. In a duty situation that was to be expected, for being Vulcan-trained Jim had adopted the habit of shadowing his commander closely at all times; but even his leisure hours were mostly spent in the company of the impassive alien, either playing chess in the rec room, or in the Captain's quarters.

On their first shore leave Sam invited Jim to go with him, and was disappointed when he refused, saying he had promised to go with Spock and McCoy. Instead, Sam made up a foursome with Aurelan, Martin and Sylvia Bradshaw, Martin's latest girl. In the relaxed atmosphere of the pleasure planet his feelings for Aurelan awakened again, and their affair resumed. Despite the fact that he had given her little thought while they were apart she still had the power to arouse him, and once more he found himself thinking seriously of a future for them. Aurelan returned his feelings, but they both still had a year of their tour of duty to run, so they decided to postpone any decision until it was over; in the meantime, they could enjoy a discreet affair.

On his return to the Enterprise Sam resumed his duties with earnest dedication, keen to make a good impression; but he could not rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling that the Captain, while not appearing to take much notice, was actually extremely aware of him. Often, as he went about his duties, he would look up to find those dark, inscrutable eyes fixed on him thoughtfully; and while unable to give a reason, he had the distinct impression that the Captain distrusted him.

In that, he was right. Spock was privately certain that Jim's parents were indeed dead; that being so, Sam's had been a particularly cruel betrayal of Jim's trust. With his brother's support Jim might have found the strength to resist the sadistic Captain who had enslaved him; but totally alone, his self- confidence already shaken, hungry for approval and affection, he had fallen easy prey to the man who had pretended to befriend him only to use him with such appalling brutality.

It might be, Spock conceded, that Sam's regret was genuine, but his a