I have been here for three weeks. My new owner has given me my own chamber, again, and control over the heat and lighting. I am told I can lock my door if I wish. I do not, but I do keep it closed against the relative cool in the rest of the house. Hiroko has been generous with me, and from somewhere, she has procured a granite slab and an incense burner, so that I can do my meditations. I am allowed time for this daily, and I find it increases my ability to cope with the limitations otherwise placed on me, including my blindness. My bed is comfortable and my blankets warm. I find she has also found the scent of the incense I used to use in my own quarters back home. Indeed, she knows Vulcans.

I discover why on my first day, when I am introduced to her personal maid. It is T'Pau. She is the same age as the grandmother I have known all my life, and it is somewhat of a shock to realize that although she had given birth to the one who in my universe became my father, she has not seen him nor had any awareness of what happened to him since he was ten, when he was sold away from her by my mistress' family. T'Pau's husband, as in my own time and place, has been long dead.

Apparently my mistress' family has owned Vulcan slaves all her life. T'Pau helped to raise her and was given to her when she left home. T'Pau's husband had been body servant to my mistress' brother, and had died of some sort of heart failure, long ago. His name, of course, was Skon, he who in my own universe had been my grandfather.

When T'Pau and I first share our minds in the tradition of this place, it is with some shock and a little amusement that she sees my perception of her counterpart. She hides both well, however, but her manner is warm to me even though from her standpoint, I am no relation to her. Yet somehow blood calls to blood. Hitherto, she has shown little of the regal and distant manner of her counterpart in my world, yet she absorbs my knowledge of the history of that T'Pau and the part she played in her youth to restore the path of Surak to my forebears, when it was almost lost a century before.

For myself, I cannot help but hold her in high regard, even though she is not the matriarch that is my grandmother in my own place. She exhibits the same strength of character and the same intelligence, somehow disciplined and orderly, even in the ignorance she has been kept in, in this place and time.

For she easily absorbs all my knowledge, and as easily shields against inappropriate mind links forming between us. She is just as gifted a scientist as her counterpart. Perhaps more so, when here and now she must do any kind of research wholly in her mind.

I learn my way around my owner's house by following the walls at first. She has told me that the only places off limits are private rooms, and then only to preserve privacy. But she takes me through her chamber once so that I may know where it is and fix it in my mind. This house is not as large or ornate as the mansion I first encountered, nor is it the rabbit warren of interconnected rooms that Eduardo's house was. The rooms are spacious and uncluttered and there is no real kitchen. A food replicator and stasis unit stand in the corner of what is a communal dining area, with a low table that servants may use when there are no human visitors along one wall. In the middle is a standard sized table with chairs for guests and our mistress. It has leaves that can enlarge it to accommodate many guests, for the wealthy entertain each other often. But I learn that Hiroko has few such entertainments yearly, indeed, the minimum she can get away with socially and still maintain some standing among her associates.

T'Pau and I are the only servants now. Hiroko hires help for parties and for groundswork. She is considered eccentric for doing this, even though it is not unknown by those who do not wish to maintain a stable of servants.

I find there is a common room with comfortable sofas and chairs, with bookshelves and many real bound books. I touch the spines with regret when there is no one to see me do so. There is a hallway with many rooms opening from it, each with its own 'fresher. My room is one of these, as is T'Pau's. And our mistress' chamber, of course. Hers is large, as befits her status, but mine is certainly better than a slave can generally expect. There are vacant rooms, a number of them, kept closed off in case there are visitors, T'Pau tells me.

Eduardo comes by to visit once or twice, conveying greetings from Ranang. He has evidently restored him to his bed as his favorite. He brings me tapes and a small recorder, so that I can listen to his messages, and send my own back to him. He tells me he is most happy and that he has taught some of the others to play chess, but they are not as good as I. I will not tell him that I held Grand Champion status in my own universe. I send him back innocuous messages conveying contentment, though I have no gossip to record as he does. It seems to satisfy him.

In an alcove in the common room just off the entrance hallway as I continue learning to get around, I find a computer station one day. I verify by touch that it is a large one, though of course I do not turn it on or otherwise explore it. Emboldened by my mistress' insistance that I speak to her if I need to ask her anything, and that her slaves speak to her informally in private, I seek her out and ask her about it.

"I had it installed on a whim," she tells me."I saw one once on a slave ship...one of the Galaxy class ships, the Lexington, it was called, that I travelled on a long time ago.I'm very wealthy, and some times I just take a notion to buy something useless. Why, Spock?"

We are standing by the computer console and I allow myself to touch it lightly with a finger. "Mistress," I tell her, unsure of how much I should divulge,"I have...skills. Is this station connected to the same Network used by the slave ships?"

"Skills? What kind of skills, Spock? Yes, it's connected. I don't have access to most of the channels, of course."

I decide I must trust her at least somewhat if I am to gain access to what would be a most valuable tool."Mistress. I was not born under the Empire. It is difficult to explain, but I know computers. I believe I could use the Net to locate my bondmate, if our tatoos are registered."

She does not answer for a long minute, and I am concerned that I may have overstepped my bounds. When she finally speaks she tells me, "Even if you have some computer skills, you're blind. How will this help you? Even if you know some things about computers, Spock, this one is incredibly complex. With your handicap.."

I raise an eyebrow. "Mistress,"I answer her."I do not know 'some things' about computers. I know all about them. In point of fact, I designed a system which may have been the prototype for your machine. Sightlessness will not handicap me if this machine's binary output is audible, as I have no doubt it is."

"All about them, Spock? I know you have talents. I've come to appreciate them in the past few weeks since you've been here. But slaves learning computers? T'Pau doesn't even know computers." She stops talking for a moment. I hear her as she moves a few paces from me."Do you, T'Pau?"

T'Pau does not answer, but evidently something passes between them."Why in hell did you never tell me any hint of this?"

"Mistress, you never asked," I hear the smugness in T'Pau's voice. "Slaves are just furniture, even to you. You've owned me all your life, but you have never seen me. Not really."

I hear Hiroko give a snort."No, T'Pau, I suppose I never have, before now. I am learning, though. What other surprises have my slaves got for me? Spock, do you know how to pilot a starship?"

I seat myself after ascertaining that there is a chair behind me."Negative, Mistress. That would require sight."

Hiroko laughs."I swear, I've never heard a Vulcan tell a joke before. Spock, you know this is something you should not tell any person. Why do you trust me?"

"I find I have taken a calculated risk, Mistress. Logically, you could report me and I would probably be destroyed. Yet you have said that you wished to help me find my wife. And with this computer, I could search far more efficiently."

"You Vulcans are full of surprises. And I'm not inclined to have a pair of docile and valuable slaves destroyed just for being brighter than the Empire wants you to be. But understand. This is not an invitation to take liberties or to speak of that which is forbidden. I'm a loyal citizen of the Empire. The Gods put each of us in the place in which they intended, and my species is intended to rule over you animals for your own good. But it's not weakness to show kindness, is it?"

"Mistress. May the slave submit that if it chose to rebel, it would have done so before it was blinded."

"I have a lot to think about.I don't question T'Pau's loyalty.As she said, I have owned her all my life. She took care of me when I was an infant and taught me to walk. I love her as if she was a person. But it doesn't make her a person, does it?"

I decline to answer. If Hiroko is to come to a conclusion, it must be through her own reasoning. I suspect confronting her own prejudices will take time. I fold my hands and wait for my mistress to decide what she will. I have done as much as I dare.

"And I don't know you well. But somehow I'm inclined to trust you. Maybe that's a mistake. But I don't think so...Very well." By the tone in her voice Hiroko seems to have come to a decision. "When there is no one present but us, you may have access to the computer. But use my code, and do so only when I am present. Give me your hand-the one with the bracelet." I extend my arm, and I feel my bracelet unlocked and removed. "I'll get a clean one for later. We will leave no record of this. I won't be accused of sedition, and while it's not strictly illegal, I don't know of any Vulcans or any other animals who use computers. We will keep it our secret, understand? Even if Eduardo visits. You never told him, did you Spock?"

"Negative, Mistress. He never asked."

"Hmph. He was too interested in your other skills, I suppose."

"Indeed, Mistress."I fall silent again, unwilling to pursue this line of thought.

"I didn't mean to make you unhappy, Spock. I'm sorry."

"Pity for a slave, Mistress?," I ask, surprised. "I am a Vulcan. We do not get 'unhappy'."

"You do get distressed. I've seen it."

Again I fall silent. It seems safest. I know this is dangerously close to sedition and that will not be tolerated by any human.

Hiroko breaks the silence."Very well, Spock. Go to it. But remember, if any hint of this goes outside this house, I will have the console locked for good. Do you understand?"

I bend my head and then turn to the console, powering it up as I run my fingers over the arrays. I tilt my head as the internal sounds begin to become audible. I can, indeed, hear the binary code as it emits from the module.I begin keying in preliminary code and listen again. I key in the code given me by Hiroko, and then start setting up back door entrances to StarNet. I begin coding worms which will hide within data packets and innocuous code. I program them to unravel if discovered and to begin to replicate and wind through the Net, searching in algorhythms for the data I am after, data which is only available to those in command of slave ships such as the one commanded by Lord Kirk.

Within seconds, my programmed worms pay off. I have infiltrated the Empire databanks, and I am listening to chatter on official comm lines. This is of secondary interest, however. I am searching for T'Pel's identification number, as well. I have had to disguise this search so it is untraceable, so this will take time to bear fruit. However, I have found that our former owners have sold her.

Though so far, I have not found out where she has been sent.

Another thing I am learning is the history of this place. It seems to have branched from our universe sometime in Earth's early Common Era. I find no trace that the religion and statehood of Christianity ever occurred. Indeed, I find little trace of any of the Jewish sects. And none at all of Islam. Rome never fell hereand, instead, expanded its empire, which eventually met with the Asian ones and overtook the Americas as they each absorbed the other. Slavery continued as an institution but not as a subjugation of one race over another, rather as Roman, Samurai, or Chinese Imperial citizens over other citizens.

I absorb the data as it pours in. The Eugenics Wars start here, too, but devastate the American native cultures, from South America up to what in my universe is Canada. Here, Zefram Cochrane still makes his warp drive craft maiden flight, and when my people land to welcome Terrans as citizens of the galaxy, they are killed and their ship overrun. No distress beacon ever reaches Vulcan which soon is embroiled in its own conflicts with Andor and Tellar. And that is the key to the overthrow of all three. T'Khasi's defenses had been strong, but the Council had gutted the defenses to make offensive weaponry. Terra, meanwhile, had aligned with the Orion Empire, then, fortified with its technology, had betrayed its interests, wresting several of its systems from it, and eventually settling into an uneasy alliance after conquering two thirds of it. They traded goods and slaves, and Terrans became dependent on the new technology of war and on the slaves stolen from every culture. And with the weaponry developed and the technology gleaned, Terra had descended on T'Khasi as a le-matya descends on orphaned and helpless sehlat cubs.Humans no longer enslaved each other. Instead, they took other races as their slaves. The loss of life and devastation of cultures was staggering and appalling. But I hear and absorb the data. It explains the Imperial government, apparently modeled after and much like the Imperial Roman governing body, except that somewhere along the line gender equality came to the Terran Empire, as long ago had racial equality.

All human cultures had eventually adopted or been absorbed by the Imperial one, and all were ruled by an Emperor, absolute ruler for life, though perhaps a figurehead to the Imperial Senate. That body had members in each planetary system, and an extensive spy network, but it appears to me that the spies are not as efficient as they could be-which is fortunate for such as I. And the system may be top-heavy enough that it will take very little for it to collapse under its own weight. There is some evidence that they are overextended with the wars against the Rihannsu Empire, only hints, but quite eloquent in their own way.

While I am learning this, I am not otherwise idle. I feed in the data I gleaned from observing the neutron star. I locate the slave ships-as I had suspected, the Enterprise was one such. They called them Galaxy class ships-and as in our own universe, there were twelve such listed as remaining in service, taking into account some which had been lost in various wars and skirmishes.

I am not able to locate the current whereabouts of all of them, but I do find out that I am currently located on what is one of the Tellarite worlds in my universe. Here the Tellarite presence has long been gone and the planet has been mainly used for agriculture with some factory work.Some of the larger cities on the other side of the planet have slaves who are taught to make some of the native crafts that find a market among humans. This is common, apparently, which explains why my owners have been able to purchase Vulcan style clothing and the ka'athryra now in my possession. Apparently there is a market for some of these items as luxury goods.

My worm programs locate firewalls around sensitive data which I dare not penetrate openly. Instead, I write code that will tease open a back door. There is always a way in, even if it is well-guarded. There is no one with my level of expertise in any kind of computer work here-though some of the automated watchdogs have a high level of sophistication. I must not remain complacent, however, so any of my worms and viruses that I have unleashed are programmed to self-destruct without leaving any kind of trace that they are from any one source. Some of them mimic security protocols I have already managed to tease from Imperial databanks, so that they will, if found, only point toward dead ends within the governing body, necessarily one of intrigue and deception, where only the strongest gain power and secure it.

I spend two hours at the console before powering it down. There is nothing else to be gained today. I must let my programs work. I hope to have more answers by tomorrow, though there is no guarantee, of course.

My mistress is apparently impatient. "Well, have you found anything out?"

I ponder the nuances of the question and decide she wishes to hear the most obvious of possible answers. "T'Pel was sold a few months after I was sent away. I am attempting to trace her, but she was in a lot of several slaves from a few plantations. I believe she may have been sold offworld, as there were several freighters which left with live cargo around that time, but it will take some time to trace her, if I am so able."

I swivel in the chair, and face my mistress' voice. "Mistress. I thank you...for the attempt. May I speak freely?"

"Of course, Spock. What is this about?"

"Mistress. If we are not successful, eventually I will go into my Time again. With T'Pau here, it would be easy to break my link with T'Pel, freeing her to seek another, and making certain she is not endangered."

"Where would that leave you?"

"I would die from the Fever. I would beg to be destroyed first, before the Madness claimed me. I know that lethal injection is utilized to destroy a slave mercifully.I would most humbly beg for this favor, when...if...the time came."

My mistress is silent, and I wait while she ponders. Then she speaks, though she sounds less than happy. "I will see to it, Spock. If I must. But only if. I don't intend for it to happen."

"I am much trouble to you, Mistress," I say, acknowledging that she may have gotten less than a bargain with the gift of myself.

"No, Spock. You've made my life less boring. Ennui is a hazard of the rich. You've rescued me from that and given me much to think on." She moves toward me and takes my hand."Give me your arm, so I may place the clean bracelet on you." I do so, and as she locks it on, she attempts to make normal conversation."Now, can we eat? I'm hungry."

Over the next few weeks, I am allowed nearly daily access to the console, which time I spend as productively as possible. All must be committed to memory; no data may be stored. All must be erased as soon as acquired, and erased in a way that it cannot be recovered or indeed leave any trace that it ever existed. All of this takes time, as do the searches.

And when offline, I spend much time filing the information, sharing it with T'Pau via the mind meld, and continuing to process the data gleaned. I have added a new quest that I cannot share with my mistress, and that is to find a way to exploit the growing weaknesses in the Empire itself. For as I earlier surmised, it is badly overextended. It has relied so heavily on the labor of slaves that the humans in power are indolent and grow careless of the subject worlds. Eventually the Empire will crumble on its own, and will either be overtaken by any of the surrounding systems or the humans will face a bloodbath when its subject slaves finally do revolt. I find evidence of escaped slaves wresting survival on fringe worlds, subsisting on piracy. It may be that a leader will emerge from one of those systems and will aid an eventual takeover. In any case, I do not see the Imperial government surviving much past another century.

I dare not convey any of this to Hiroko, however.

What would appear at first to be my simplest task appears to be harder than I had thought, though. There are millions of slaves registered in the Imperial lists scattered on hundreds of worlds. By now my daughter will have been born if all went well, but she will not be marked yet, and odds of finding one adult female's identification number seem to be quite low, on the order of three thousand, seven hundred forty to one, and that not factoring in any of the unknown variables. They may not be alive. Our daughter may not have lived. They may have been sold to one of the outlying colony worlds, where record keeping is even more sparse. I have no way of knowing if any of these are so. I do not feel the severing of the bond, so it is certain she, at least, is alive, but ours is not a bond of such depth that I can guage where she is now.

Though it is certain I will know when my Time comes. I must rely on what data I have, and so far, I have found none. I continue to try, however. It is all I can do.

I do find one intriguing bit of information, though regarding the Empire. They are escalating their war with Rihannsu, and they have won some of its technology by winning at least some of the initial skirmishes.

I find Sarek's name in an old news databank. He is dead here. Apparently he was with a high ranking Imperial Senator some forty years ago in a personal cruiser which met with some sort of accident, which killed all aboard. The servants of that senator were listed, and one of them was Sarek. I do not find any record of an Amanda Grayson of Earth. Someone else is credited with the practical models of the Universal Translator here. I inform T'Pau through mindtouch of the loss of her son, and speak to her the Words of Comfort, albeit in Imperial Standard. "I grieve with thee, T'Pau."

"I felt him go, Spock. It is not unexpected. Yet there is comfort in knowing thee. It is not logical, but it is true that in a real sense thee are my blood."

I nod. "In a sense, T'Pau, it is so. I feel it."

T'Pau herself proves invaluable to my research. She proves her mind is no less brilliant than her counterpart's, my grandmother, as she processes and assembles complex mathematic constructions in order to assist in my research projects. This is of necessity being done entirely in our minds. Nothing can be committed to hard copy, not hard drive, not tape, not padd. I had seen in her mind that she had long since learned computer skills simply by watching the humans in her restricted world.

Winter is here, the second I have seen since my arrival here. My daughter will be sitting up now, if she lives. I know my sperm is viable-despite my hybrid beginnings, that is one thing the geneticists did manage to get right, as my father had wanted the Clan line to continue and it was thought that I would eventually sire a child. I still do not know if the child lives, or if there are complications involving any child's viability. Medicine is not my specialty. I know much about my own genesis, and my own biology, but I do not even know why Vulcans know the sex of the embryos they parent. I have never thought to inquire. It may be pheromone related. But I had never thought to question what was simply an accepted part of my background, until I had cause to wonder about a child of mine who may or may not have lived.

I do not find information about it in any of the texts I find on the Net, either.

All I find is that Vulcans,of any slaves, are the only ones whose bondmates are generally kept for life, only because they lost many slaves before they discovered that they must adapt to this fact of our biology, that we bond for life and will die without our mates.

It is why we are allowed to train our children until the age of seven,which in my universe would have been the time of the Kas'wahn, here the Tresh-tor, the Sundering, though only by mind touch. I do find out that defective slave children are simply humanely destroyed. So if anything were proven wrong with our daughter, she would not be alive.

I also find out that I am not the only blind slave. Many slaves are so punished by owners who do not wish to simply destroy property which may have tried to rebel but are at low risk for reoffending. I discover many are teachers of children and some are employed in brothels or other entertainments. Many more are sent to hard labor.

Other common punishments include castration or loss of thumbs or toes. It appears that random chance has operated in my favor thrice, so far. I could have received much worse any step along the way. Perhaps if I had known a year and a half earlier what might have been my lot, I might have answered differently. Kaiidth. What is, is.

It is illogical to contemplate what might have been, that is not.

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