treat your injury, I am certain that Mister Arex is prepared to compensate, at least until he departs for his return to the Enterprise .” Saying nothing else, he nodded to Shin. “If you will excuse me, madam, there are some necessary preparations to accomplish prior to our departure.”
Boma remained silent as the Vulcan and Arex left, still processing what he had just heard. “Was that supposed to be a joke? From Spock?”
“The nuances of your language continue to elude me, Samuel,” Shin said. “Is the commander a frequent employer of humor?”
“Not usually, no,” Boma said, sighing as he watched Spock’s retreating figure. “Something tells me this is going to be one very odd couple of days.”
SEVEN
“I’ll say this for the Dolysians,” remarked Ambassador Dana Sortino, her voice echoing across the vast chamber despite its lowered volume. “They’ve got style.”
Kirk could only nod in agreement as he beheld the spacious, circular room that served as the rotunda for the headquarters of the Unified Leadership Council. The gallery, though simple in construction, harbored what to Kirk’s eyes appeared to be a loving balance between form and function. The walls were constructed of stones cut in rectangular shapes of approximately two meters in length and height, their surfaces encrusted with all manner of minerals and other artifacts that played off the natural illumination provided by the chamber’s transparent, domed ceiling. As for the stones themselves, they were fitted together in a staggered pattern, and so closely that the seams offered no apparent gaps of even the smallest width. The patterns and reflections from their individual faces resulted in a wondrous display of color in response to the cascade of late morning sunlight. The effect was broken only by the eight entryways spaced at regular intervals around the room, some leading to passageways while others accessed stairwells constructed from the same stones. To Kirk, the chamber resembled a cathedral, though there were no outward displays of anything that might denote a deity or otherreligious beliefs. Tapestries and other artwork adorned the walls, while sculptures of varying size and shape occupied niches carved into the walls or stood on pedestals around the room. As for the floor, it was created from a network of stones cut and fitted together in what looked to Kirk like a random placement, with each piece fitted into a light gray mortar that resembled an intricate spider’s web stretching across the expansive floor.
“When I was a boy,” Kirk said, regarding the floor’s stonework with an appreciative eye, “my uncle and my brother and I built a walking path that looked something like this. It took us most of the summer to lay it out so that it connected his house to the barn. I can’t imagine how long it took to put this together.”
Sortino replied, “About the same amount of time, though they had more people pitching in than you and your uncle probably did.”
Chuckling, Kirk nodded. “Definitely.” He smiled as he recalled the effort they had expended on the project during one summer vacation he had spent at his aunt and uncle’s farm in Idaho. Then there were the countless times he and his brother, Sam, had sprinted the length of that path, pretending it was the corridor of a mighty starship as they raced to head off the latest in an unending series of crises to spring from their fertile imaginations. Though Kirk could appreciate the craftsmanship required to create something so beautiful and durable, he lacked the necessary skill and passion to do something like it on his own. In contrast, his late brother had acquired their father’s natural gift for working and building with his own hands, as evidenced by the homes he had built for his family, from the ground up, on two different worlds, Earth and Deneva.
You would’ve loved this, Sam . I miss you, big brother .
Someone walking toward him from his left made
Boma remained silent as the Vulcan and Arex left, still processing what he had just heard. “Was that supposed to be a joke? From Spock?”
“The nuances of your language continue to elude me, Samuel,” Shin said. “Is the commander a frequent employer of humor?”
“Not usually, no,” Boma said, sighing as he watched Spock’s retreating figure. “Something tells me this is going to be one very odd couple of days.”
SEVEN
“I’ll say this for the Dolysians,” remarked Ambassador Dana Sortino, her voice echoing across the vast chamber despite its lowered volume. “They’ve got style.”
Kirk could only nod in agreement as he beheld the spacious, circular room that served as the rotunda for the headquarters of the Unified Leadership Council. The gallery, though simple in construction, harbored what to Kirk’s eyes appeared to be a loving balance between form and function. The walls were constructed of stones cut in rectangular shapes of approximately two meters in length and height, their surfaces encrusted with all manner of minerals and other artifacts that played off the natural illumination provided by the chamber’s transparent, domed ceiling. As for the stones themselves, they were fitted together in a staggered pattern, and so closely that the seams offered no apparent gaps of even the smallest width. The patterns and reflections from their individual faces resulted in a wondrous display of color in response to the cascade of late morning sunlight. The effect was broken only by the eight entryways spaced at regular intervals around the room, some leading to passageways while others accessed stairwells constructed from the same stones. To Kirk, the chamber resembled a cathedral, though there were no outward displays of anything that might denote a deity or otherreligious beliefs. Tapestries and other artwork adorned the walls, while sculptures of varying size and shape occupied niches carved into the walls or stood on pedestals around the room. As for the floor, it was created from a network of stones cut and fitted together in what looked to Kirk like a random placement, with each piece fitted into a light gray mortar that resembled an intricate spider’s web stretching across the expansive floor.
“When I was a boy,” Kirk said, regarding the floor’s stonework with an appreciative eye, “my uncle and my brother and I built a walking path that looked something like this. It took us most of the summer to lay it out so that it connected his house to the barn. I can’t imagine how long it took to put this together.”
Sortino replied, “About the same amount of time, though they had more people pitching in than you and your uncle probably did.”
Chuckling, Kirk nodded. “Definitely.” He smiled as he recalled the effort they had expended on the project during one summer vacation he had spent at his aunt and uncle’s farm in Idaho. Then there were the countless times he and his brother, Sam, had sprinted the length of that path, pretending it was the corridor of a mighty starship as they raced to head off the latest in an unending series of crises to spring from their fertile imaginations. Though Kirk could appreciate the craftsmanship required to create something so beautiful and durable, he lacked the necessary skill and passion to do something like it on his own. In contrast, his late brother had acquired their father’s natural gift for working and building with his own hands, as evidenced by the homes he had built for his family, from the ground up, on two different worlds, Earth and Deneva.
You would’ve loved this, Sam . I miss you, big brother .
Someone walking toward him from his left made
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