Vulcan’s protect their privacy fiercely, and Jim knew he had no business snooping. But the thin volume on Spock’s shelf was irresistible. He guiltily leafed through it while waiting for Spock to finish up in the lab – and then was shocked and delighted to find neatly folded in the back, what looked to be a handwritten attempt at a translation to Terran English.
The Evasive Enemy
T’hyla, my beloved, my alternate soul
Warrior that you are
You would wish me to battle my sorrow for your departure/absence
Instead, my heart/husband/brother, I cling to my pain
To my regret
To my memories
They are all I have of you and so they are precious to me
My perversion is complete
I enjoy the cutting pain and replay them
In the empty battlefield of my mind/soul/heart
Only the dead lie here.
The place in me where you once dwelled,
Life is long, too long, beloved without you
The walls that held you are poised to crumble inward
Desirous of filling the void with rubble
Once I did not hold you in my mind/soul/heart
And still I had purpose
I thought then that I had purpose
Now I wonder
What is purpose?
Filling time, filling space, filling thoughts
But it is a void that is never filled
How is that purpose?
If you were here,
You would chide me
Only the body is lost – the mind/soul/heart is preserved
Held in Mount Seleya
But - my body aches for yours
It should be of no importance
An enemy that evades battle
I await the ending time
Jim gently replaced the volume on the shelf. He could not regret having read it, no … he could not regret it. But he also wondered … who was Spock translating it for?
His mother? A lover? Someone on the ship? Whoever it was, would be receiving something priceless … something precious.