The last scarlet rays of Eridani slanted through the living room windows, striking the Easter icon that Mother had set in a place of honor on the polished side table. Was it only this morning that she had defied Father and brought it out of storage? Only this morning that the two of them had argued?

Young Spock stepped closer to the icon. Any child would be fascinated by the ornate rendering of angels, saints, and prophets; by the Christ figure holding an oddly shaped staff while all about him people rose from their tombs. But though his eyes studied it, his mind was consumed by the memory of his parents' quarrel. Not that Father had truly raised his voice. He never shouted, but even so, the words he spoke had been terrible.

"Our union has proved to be an error," he had said. "Our two races are philosophically…and perhaps even genetically…incompatible. And as for the boy…"

Remembering, Spock choked back tears of misery. Was crying really a sign of weakness? A result of his human mother "encouraging emotionalism and promoting foolish myths"? Now that he had returned from a day of hiding, would Father make good his threat to take him away from her?

The house was so very still that the ticking of Mother's grandfather clock seemed even louder than usual. Father had always disliked the sound, had certainly never permitted it to chime. But now, gradually, Spock became aware of another faint and disturbing sound, like the small whimpers I-Chaya sometimes made in his sleep.

Gathering his courage, he called out, "Mother? Mother, are you here?"

A door in the hall burst open, and there she stood. Rushing toward him, she dropped down on one knee, scooped him into her arms and cried, "I thought Sarek had you!"

A strange mixture of joy and sorrow beat at Spock's mental barriers, but he welcomed her feelings, for they were so much like his own. "I…I ran out through the yard," he explained. "I went into town."

"Good boy," she said, hugging him even tighter. Then drawing back, she looked at him through tear-dampened eyes. "We must hurry now and pack a few things. We're going on a trip. A long trip, far away from here."

There was such a sense of relief that he openly said, "I'm glad. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to go with Father." Hopefully he added, "And I-Chaya? Can my sehlat come, too?"

Mother sighed so heavily that he knew there would be yet another parting today. How strange, that it hurt even more than losing an undemonstrative Vulcan father.

oooo

By now, Sarek knew they were gone. The marital link Amanda shared with the ambassador was not as deep or binding as that of a Vulcan wife, but even so, she could sense his outrage. Well, let him steam. At least for now Spock was out of his reach, seated safely beside her in the starliner. A Ventura Eagle starliner, registered on Earth and not subject to Vulcan's laws.

Spock stirred. Looking up from his padd, he said, "I have been studying the city of Seattle. Your city."

Amanda turned toward him, and gazing into his earnest brown eyes, finger-combed his perfect dark bangs to one side. A small touch, but it made him seem a bit more human. She hoped that, in time, he would unlearn the taut emotional and behavioral strictures demanded by Vulcan culture. Perhaps in time he would even learn to play.

"Yes, Seattle." She tried her best to smile. "I loved living there when I was a girl."

Settling back in the cushioned seat, she thought of the subspace message speeding ahead to her father. Would it reach him today? She could easily imagine Professor Grayson's reaction. A startled lift of a brow, and a little chuckle as his blue eyes lit with anticipation. Then, being a practical man, he would contact his lawyer and see to the spare bedrooms that once belonged to her and her sister Doris.

Amanda could not wait to settle in. How good it would feel to snuggle under an old quilt while rain spattered against the windowpanes. Oh, how she had missed the sound and even the smell of rain. But she dared not stay long in Seattle, for he was sure to come looking.

A fresh stab of regret seized her, and now even her head began to ache. Oh, how had it come to this? She alone might have endured Sarek's inflexible ways and disapproving silences, but there was Spock to consider. The boy had suffered enough. He was all that mattered now.

But how would a half-Vulcan child fare among the humans on Earth?

Pushing aside that nagging worry, she recalled a dependable comfort from her own childhood and turned to prayer.

oooo

Grandfather Grayson was off at the university when they arrived at his home. Debarking from an aircab with his mother, Spock gripped a small valise containing a few essentials and hurried through the drizzle to the front porch. Though the April cold was considered mild by Seattle standards, it sliced through his thin Vulcan clothing. Before Mother could open the door, he was already shivering. Once inside, she turned up the heat and settled him on a sofa with a heavy decorative "afghan".

"I'll be right back," she said, and went down the hallway with their luggage.

Spock sat alone, intently studying his surroundings. At first it seemed that nothing had changed in the one-point-six Earth years since his previous visit. Same burgundy carpeting. Same furniture. Same lamps. Even the same grotesque faces peered at him from the wood grain of the paneling that covered the living room walls.

But suddenly, from down the hall, came a commotion. In ran a spotted creature on four legs, emitting loud distressing noises as it rushed straight toward him.

Startled, Spock leapt onto the sofa cushion, but there was no escaping the intruder as it planted its paws near Spock's feet and barked up at his pallid face.

Mother hurried back into the room. "Stop that!" she said with authority. "Hadrian, sit! Sit down!"

To Spock's relief, the animal obeyed. But its suspicious eyes never left him for a moment.

A dog. Well, that was new.

oooo

At sundown the rain had ended. Now the kitchen blinds were tightly shut as Amanda sat with her father at a small oak table, sipping tea. Spock was in bed — hopefully asleep, but knowing the sensitivity of Vulcan hearing, she kept her voice low.

"So first thing tomorrow, I file for custody."

"My attorney recommends it." With his graying hair and distinguished manner, Charles Grayson perfectly fit the traditional image of a history professor. "Until a custody order is in place, Sarek will have a legal right to his son. And by filing here, the case will be litigated on Earth, under our laws."

Amanda wrapped her hands tightly around her flowered mug. "What if he's already filed on Vulcan?"

"I doubt if Ambassador Sarek would want anyone knowing his personal business just now. That famed Vulcan privacy should work in your favor. Any attempt to kidnap the boy would make headline news here on Earth."

Perhaps so, but she had to admit, "I don't feel safe knowing this is the first place he'd come looking."

"Well then, he'd have to deal with Hadrian." Smiling, Charles reached toward the dog at his feet and patted Hadrian's noble head. The brown and white springer spaniel thumped his undocked tail in appreciation.

"He doesn't seem to like Vulcans," Amanda agreed. "At least not young ones."

As if on cue, the dog jumped to his feet and facing the doorway, barked loudly at a frowning child with elfin ears.

What might those inquisitive little ears have heard?

oooo

That first night, Spock lay awake listening to every small sound, wondering if Father had come to kidnap him. Now and then he heard a snuffling at the base of his door and tried to wish Grandfather Grayson's boisterous canine away. Hadrian was so different from his placid pet sehlat, back home.

Oh, how he missed old I-Chaya! Was anyone caring for him? Feeding and grooming him? Or had he been left to die of neglect?

Turning onto his side, Spock gazed at the imitation creature that Grandfather had retrieved from an old "toy box". It smelled strange. A pair of false golden eyes glimmered blankly in its worn face. Though Spock understood that the "teddy bear" was somehow meant to comfort him, he did not find it at all reassuring. Since it had neither breath nor warmth, it seemed dead. And he did not like having something dead sharing his bed.

Reaching out, he pushed the imitation bear a little at a time until it tumbled onto the carpeted floor. Hadrian's keen ears heard. Outside the door, he stirred and growled low in his throat.

Knowing that the animal lay between him and his mother, Spock's dislike for him intensified.

oooo

With the legal paperwork filed at court, Amanda felt jumpy waiting around for Sarek's response. Any knock at the door might be him or his representative. That was reason enough to seek a new living arrangement, but Hadrian's behavior sealed her decision. The dog simply refused to accept Spock.

First, Amanda purchased a used but serviceable hover car. At her father's suggestion, she checked out nearby Port Gamble, a scenic town on the Kitsap Peninsula. Both she and Spock found it "fascinating", and thanks to her father's connections, soon secured a fully furnished guest cottage in the historic district that dated back to the 1800's. Fortunately, income posed no problem. She was already under an audio book contract, producing Vulcan works in English and English books for a Vulcan audience. That, she could do anywhere. And being an accredited teacher, she was always willing to tutor struggling students. Of course, teaching her own child was top priority.

It was a cool but sunny day at Port Gamble. Bundled in his new warm clothes, Spock kept to her side as they strolled along Rainier Avenue. Amanda stopped outside a beautiful old Episcopal church for a lesson in history, architecture, and religion. But before long, her usually attentive son turned away and stared over at the huge conifer in the church yard.

"Spock, what is it?" she asked.

To her amazement, he ran from her — ran like a human boy — hopped a white picket fence, and gazed straight up into the tree branches.

"…Spock?" she questioned.

It was then that she heard the pitiful little meow.

Amanda walked over and joined him. Her heart warmed as a scrawny half-grown kitten clawed its way down the bark, into Spock's waiting arms. A most unVulcan smile tugged at his lips — delightful to see, but a sure sign of trouble ahead. With each stroke of his small hand, the yellow bundle of fur purred louder.

Spock cast her a pleading look as he asked the age-old question. "Can I keep it?"

Since the cat was clearly a stray, she could hardly claim that it already had an owner. That left only the plain, hard truth. As gently as possible, she said, "I'm sorry, son, but the landlord doesn't allow pets."

Spock seemed to take the news well. But after solemnly studying the kitten, he looked up at her with a new, quite calculating expression.

"Not a pet, Mother. A biological specimen."

Amanda nearly gasped. Was her Vulcan-trained son actually suggesting an act of deception? Or did he see it only as a matter of logic? Of one thing she was certain. With the homeless tabby nestled safely in Spock's arms, it would be hard to deny either of them.

oooo

It scarcely surprised Spock that he had gotten his way. Father would never have allowed him to break the landlord's rule, but since leaving Vulcan, Mother liked to "make him happy".

However, in one matter she never indulged Spock. They had just completed a tour of the General Store's museum when he was drawn to a colorful display of old-fashioned candies. A tourist boy near his own age was trying to choose among the sugary treats for sale.

Turning to Spock, he briefly studied one pointed ear and asked, "Which is your favorite?"

Spock considered his answer carefully. "I cannot say, for I have not tasted any of these selections or any other candy."

The boy's greenish eyes widened in disbelief. "Why not? Everybody eats candy."

"Your statement is inaccurate," Spock replied. "Sugar is detrimental to a Vulcan's health. Even bitter chocolate can cause an unpleasant…" He immediately regretted the admission, and hoping to seem more human, added, "But…I have a cat."

To his relief, the boy responded in a pleasant manner. "Really? What's its name?"

"K'avon. It means 'hungry'."

The boy screwed up his face. "Kevin? That's just a plain, ordinary name. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does," Spock insisted.

"Does not," argued the boy.

Spock told him, "You are in error."

"And you're weird!" countered the boy, bits of spittle spraying from his mouth. Drawing even closer, he repeated, "Weirdo, weirdo, weirdo!"

Spock experienced a hot surge of anger. Lashing out, he shoved the ignorant human so hard that he fell to the floor. The boy's face turned red and he began to cry. His parents hurried over. Suddenly Spock's mother was also there, looking quite displeased.

"Spock," she demanded, "what have you done?"

He did not immediately answer, for it took a great deal of effort to contain his temper — far more than ever before. Even after his mind cleared and his breathing calmed, he could not bring himself to repeat the boy's insulting words.

Walking home, Mother said she was ashamed of him.

oooo

Dinner at the cottage had gone well. Homemade potato soup generously topped with cheese, and plenty of warm garlic bread on the side. Even Spock had seemed to like the traditional human fare.

Though the dishes were cleared, Amanda and her father remained at the table, quietly talking as they watched Spock play with his cat out in the living room. K'avon scampered wildly after the erratic chase toy that Charles had brought. Now and then Spock smiled broadly at his pet's antics. Then suddenly he laughed.

Charles said, "Well, will you look at that? He turned to Amanda as her brief smile faded into a frown. "What's wrong? I should think you'd be delighted."

She told him about the troubling incident at the General Store, but he shrugged it off. "He's a boy, and boys have been known to tussle."

Amanda was not sure how to voice her concerns. "A while back on Vulcan…there was a fight. A pair of boys taunted Spock and he attacked them…but in that case, he was cornered. Here at the store, he could easily have walked away."

"So he lost control."

"You don't understand," she said. It's…it's different for Vulcans."

"But aren't human emotions the problem? After all, Vulcans have repressed their feelings for so long that they scarcely exist anymore."

Yes, such was the popular myth. Few outworlders knew that Vulcan emotions were far more savage than those of humans. And ordinary Vulcan discipline did not eliminate the violent impulses; it only contained them.

Amanda shuddered at the memory of Sarek's rage lashing out at her on the starliner. Their court date was fast approaching, but so far not a word from him. What might her "unfeeling" husband be planning? And what was becoming of their even-tempered son?

Taking a deep breath, she revealed the truth about Vulcans and their emotions.

oooo

All day, Spock kept sensing his mother's nervousness about tomorrow's court appearance. Since leaving Vulcan, she seldom let him out of her sight, even when she was recording her latest book. At such times he was expected to work quietly and not interrupt her.

They had just finished lunch, and K'avon was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. Spock half listened to Mother's expressive reading as he knelt by the "coffee table", constructing a Federation starship from a model kit. The unmistakable note of tension in her voice kept distracting him. He hoped she would stay across the room and not touch him, for physical contact would only increase his discomfort.

Yet suddenly he could not keep from breaking the rule for quiet, and asked her, "Will Father be at court? Will he come and take me away?"

Mother broke off reading, came to his side and hugged him close. Spock stiffened against the distressing onslaught of her emotions. Love, deep sorrow, but most of all, fear.

"You're staying with me," she said in a tear-choked way that was unconvincing.

Even after she returned to her work, Spock's head spun from the frightening impressions that made his mother seem weak and undependable. Struggling to contain his own fears, he attempted to fit the model pieces together in the proper order. Somehow his fingers squeezed too hard. There was a snapping sound, and a vital part lay shattered.

"No!"

Spock realized with a start that he had shouted. Then suddenly all the misery bottled inside him began to spill out. Screaming in Vulcan, he hurled the hateful fragments of the model kit in every direction. K'avon leapt from the sofa and ran down the hallway. Mother stood, her eyes wide open and her face white with shock.

Though she spoke not a word, it seemed that he had failed her. If she could not look to him for even a child's strength, of what use was he? Overcome by the thought, Spock crumpled to the floor and sobbed.

oooo

Amanda sat with a lawyer, awaiting her turn before the King County judge. If only her father could have been with her, but there was no one else to whom she would entrust Spock. She could only hope that the boy was not causing him any trouble. Yesterday's tantrum had been frightening.

Turning her mind from the memory, she glanced once again over the unfamiliar people at Family Court. Though Sarek had submitted no legal response to her request for custody, might he or his attorney appear at the last minute? Or was Sarek taking this opportunity to seize Spock from her father's home and hurry him back to Vulcan?

As yet another case was heard, her attention drifted to the row of high windows on the left side of the courtroom. Dark storm clouds blotted out the sun, but as yet there was no rain.

"Amanda Grayson S'chn T'gai."

The judge's measured tones snapped her to attention. Heart racing, she rose and accompanied her lawyer to the front of the chamber.

The judge briefly studied his computer display, asked two simple questions, and said, "Since there has been no counterclaim in this matter, the court awards you full physical and legal custody of your minor son, Spock. Effective immediately."

As quickly as that, it was over. Hardly daring to believe the outcome, Amanda left the courtroom and received her lawyer's congratulations. Then, still worried about Spock's safety, she drew out her phone as she strode toward the nearest exit.

A friendly-looking woman stepped into her path and said, "Excuse me…but aren't you Amanda Grayson?"

Amanda stopped and studied the stranger's face with no sense of recognition.

Reaching into a large stylish purse, the woman drew out a manila envelope. Her smile brightened as she handed the envelope over and declared, "You're served." Then turning on her heel, she briskly departed.

So here it was. For one terrible moment Amanda stood frozen, just staring at the unmarked yellow envelope. But as much as she dreaded its contents, there was no sense wasting time. Determinedly she opened the end flap and pulled out a legal-looking document printed in Vulcan script.

"Writ of Dahshaya," it read, among other things, "severing all ties to Amanda Stemple Grayson and any offspring that resulted from her former union with S'chn T'gai Sarek."

oooo

Mother had decided on a "fast food" meal as a means of celebrating that her court appearance had ended well. But now that their order was on the table, Spock's stomach rebelled. The restaurant noise seemed to fade as he stared at the mushrooms and olives atop the triangular slice of pizza on his napkin. His mind filled with the angry words he had overheard from her at Grandfather's house.

"In a way, this writ of divorce is almost worse than a custody battle. He wants no part of his own son! How can Sarek do that? How can he just cast him off like…like an old pair of shoes?"

Spock knew why. It was because he was not good enough. He never had been good enough to satisfy his demanding, unaffectionate father. And lately he was not even good enough for his mother.

Knowing what he would find, he glanced up from his food. Mother's eyes were troubled as she studied him.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say with only a slight tremor.

"Why?" she asked. "What's wrong? I thought you would be hungry."

Dangerously close to tears, he answered, "I was. But not anymore."

Mother grew even more worried. As if to herself, she said, "I hope you're not getting sick..."

She quickly boxed up the pizza and they drove straight home, rain lashing against the hover car's windshield. Once in the house, she took his temperature and found it normal, but sent him to bed with K'avon, anyway.

Spock did not object. He had a lot to think about, and deep thinking came easier when he was alone. Long after his mother went to her bedroom, he lay awake, listening to the storm. Around midnight, the rain stopped and the wind began to blow. The old house shuddered and a bedroom window rattled as if someone — or something — were trying to break in.

Suddenly he thought of I-Chaya. Could it be? Had his beloved pet followed him all the way to Earth? He had read stories about dogs traversing many miles to find their masters, and sehlats were even more intelligent. Perhaps even intelligent enough to sneak aboard a starliner.

Forsaking all logic, Spock went to the noisy window and eagerly peered out at the shifting, moonlit shadows.

oooo

Wrapped in her robe, Amanda stood on the porch drinking coffee as the sun peeked above Gamble Bay. Though broken tree limbs and scattered twigs gave evidence of the night's storm, now there was scarcely a breeze. She breathed deeply of the sweet morning air, and listening to birdsong, tried her best to forget her broken marriage. The cold, concise Writ of Divorce had included the standard monetary settlement along with a pledge to ship any personal belongings. How easily Vulcans rid themselves of unwanted partners…and even children. Oh, she had a legal right to contest the action, but to what purpose? The union had clearly been a mistake.

Now, a nagging concern over Spock's health sent her back inside to check on him. Quietly she walked down the hall and cracked open his bedroom door. K'avon yawned and looked up at her from a rumpled but empty bed.

"Spock…?" she said, opening the door wider so she could see the entire room.

Nothing.

She went down the hallway and back, growing increasingly anxious as she checked every corner of the cottage. Fighting panic, she hurried out on the porch and called his name once, twice, three times.

No one answered.

Her blood ran cold and she rushed for the phone. Her father answered on the second ring.

"He's done it!" she blurted. "Sarek stole him! He's taken Spock!"

oooo

The persistent whining of a skimmer drew Spock from a terrible dream in which his father had abducted him. And then I-Chaya had suddenly appeared and was fighting Sarek to the death.

For a moment he was afraid to open his eyes. He felt cold — shivering cold — and hungrier than ever before in his life. Somewhere overhead, the skimmer's whine kept moving in a monotonous circle. Then, voices intruded. A man shouted his name.

Spock sat up and found himself in a thick, damp forest. Strangers were running toward him along a trail. One of them spoke into a communicator.

"Yes, the boy is here! He seems alright!"

Another man came over and wrapped Spock in a warm blanket. Gently he pulled him to his feet and said, "Well, little fellow, it looks like you've had quite an adventure. Ready to go home?"

Spock gave no reply. As they stood awaiting a transporter beam, there was ample time to consider the enormity of his mistake. He had wandered alone into a dark forest, foolishly searching for a pet that could not possibly be there. But he had so wanted to believe it, that he had actually lied to himself. And now he had inconvenienced an entire search party and caused his mother yet more worry.

Amanda was standing beside a neighbor lady when the transporter released him at the foot of their porch steps. Hurrying over, she caught him into her arms and kissed him right there in front of everyone. Spock tried to focus on the basic Mind Rules taught to every Vulcan child, but his mother's rioting emotions and the burden of his own shame were overwhelming. Then the inevitable questions began, and he felt himself withdrawing to a place of safety deep within.