Arts Mécaniques (Chapter 2)
As soon as Nyota had crawled under the covers, she knew there’d be no sleep tonight. She stared at the moon shadows on the wall for a time, trying to reconcile herself to the fact that it looked like she’d soon be married. All her life she’d known that she’d likely marry for the convenience of her family’s alliances, but she’d always cherished the hope that she’d be able to choose her spouse. But here she was, with the choice between two brothers, each with his strengths and weaknesses.
There was Sybok, heir to the throne, charming, handsome, and inventive. Rumor held him to be a bit rebellious, but his stepmother believed him to actually be dangerous.
Then there was Spock, quiet and artistic. Marrying him would hold few of the pressures that would come with marrying the heir. His servants spoke well of him. And, truth be told, she had more in common with Spock.
She dozed on and off until first light, and then gave up hope of any real sleep. She roused Cassie and got dressed, then sent a note to her escort.
“Dear Captain Kirk. My apologies for waking you at this hour, but I’d like to speak to my father, and feel more comfortable doing so from the airship than from our host’s equipment….”
The captain was at her door within 15 minutes, and the pair walked to the ship with a yawning Cassie in tow. Nyota was soon in the private cabin and cranking the Instant Viewing Device to life. Soon her father’s face was before her, sleepy and careworn.
“My daughter, what has happened?
“Nothing father, please do not worry. I only took this opportunity to let you know…” How could she say it? “To let you know that I have had the distinct honor of meeting the Princess of Vulcan and her two sons.”
Her father, wide awake now, raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? And what…er…what did you think of that family?”
“The Princess seems a kind person, father. I was very much impressed. The elder son is an inventor…” she said, her eyes cast downward. “But Spock, the younger son,” she added looking pointedly at her father, “He is a musician and has the same love of languages as do I…” He nodded with a small smile.
“Well, Nyota, I am glad you have spent your time well. I look forward to your return.” He reached over and severed the connection.
Nyota sat for a time looking at the blank screen. Well, it was done. She’d told her father her preference. Now he would negotiate with Sarek. There was nothing to do now but wait, and try to get to know Spock better.
She took a deep breath and schooled her features before standing to leave. When she closed the door behind her, Captain Kirk rose from his chair in the sitting room.
“All is well, I hope, m’lady?”
“All is well, Captain Kirk. All is well.”
I hope, she added to herself.
***Nyota, Captain Kirk, and Wynn were amongst the first at breakfast. Captain Kirk excused himself early, and when Spock entered the breakfast room, Wynn suddenly felt the need for a walk. Nyota blushed, Spock blushed, and as he sat next to her, it seemed as if they would spend the meal in silence.
He is handsome, Nyota found herself thinking. Even though he is not my type, at least he isn’t ugly. And there is intelligence behind those eyes. And if his servants think well of him, that is a good sign….
She tried to think of something to say, but all her diplomatic small-talk fled her brain. At least she didn’t jump when he finally spoke.
“Lady Nyota, it appears to be a fine morning. Would you care to take a walk after breakfast?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but was forestalled by Sybok who was suddenly behind them.
“Ha! A walk indeed! I’m sure you’d much rather take a ride in my steamcar, wouldn’t you?”
“You are too kind, Lord Sybok, but I must say I am more in the mood for a quiet walk this morning.”
Sybok’s face fell, and she thought she saw something other than disappointment in his expression.
“Well,” he said. “Enjoy your walk.” He bowed and quickly walked out of the room.
Spock seemed to be embarrassed by his Sybok’s behavior. “Please excuse my brother, m’lady. He can be quite…abrupt.”
“There is no need to apologize,” she smiled. “Well, shall we?”
Spock stood and held out his arm, and she slipped her hand around it. She felt a flush creep up her neck as she felt the strong muscle beneath the fabric of his jacket. And he was so warm! She thought it might not be that bad to be close to him.
That’s right, she told herself. Focus on the good points. Ignore the fact that he’s said barely five sentences since you met him.
“The grounds here are lovely,” she said.
“They are indeed. I have modeled some of the gardens at Vulcan on these.”
“Really? Forgive me, but you don’t strike me as the gardening type.”
He smiled, just a little upturn of the lips, and it changed his face completely.
“I enjoy many things. Languages and music, as you know, gardening and history amongst other interests.” He turned to her. “And you? What interests fill your days?”
She smiled up at him. “I admit to a love of music as well. I play the harp and sing a little. I love literature; it was my desire to read more novels that sparked my interests in languages. I wanted to read everything!”
“These are laudable pursuits,” he said, his deep brown eyes looking into hers. And then he looked away, embarrassed.
She had an idea.
“In all the commotion after the automaton display, I haven’t had an opportunity to ask you about the music. Can you tell me about the composition? And the voices? How did you create the voices?”
She’d asked the right questions. She felt him relax under her arm, and his eyes sparkled as he spoke, with no embarrassment or hesitation, about the music he created for his brother’s invention.
“The melody is based on an old Vulcan folk tune. The kinderklavier added a haunting quality; I wanted to convey a wistful mood. The voices were created by a special recording device I constructed-it takes the spoken word and blends it with the melody played on any instrument. Then it combines the two into a singing ‘voice.’ I still have some modifications to make, but I was not displeased with the initial results.”
Nyota stopped and looked up at him. “So you invented a novel technology to create a new form of music, and all your brother did was make the puppets dance?”
“Lady Nyota, he did more than ‘make the puppets dance,’” Spock said with a lopsided smile. “But I appreciate the compliment all the same.”
“You are too modest, sir,” she said. They had turned around and were headed back into the house.
“While I am gratified that others take pleasure in my music, I create it because I enjoy it.”
“You are a very interesting man, Lord Spock.”
“And, you, Lady Nyota, are quite fascinating.”
The pair made their way inside, unaware that they were being watched.
***
Spock had left Nyota at the foot of the grand staircase with a bow and a request.
“Lady Nyota, may I…Might I be so bold as to secure the first two dances with you at the ball tonight?”
“I’d be delighted,” she answered.
Most of the company spent the morning at the airfield, in the prince’s laboratory viewing the latest computational engine, or at the carriage house. Nyota stayed in the sitting room, playing the harp or reading, hoping to have a chance to speak to Princess Amanda. But the princess did not appear, and later sent her regrets to their hostess, saying that she was indisposed and would rest until supper.
After lunch, Nyota made her way to the princess’ suite, but the servant who answered the door said that Princess Amanda would have no visitors. As she made her way back downstairs, a footman ran toward her.
“M’lady, you have an incoming communication from your father. You may take the tel-com in the library.”
“Thank you,” she said, and hurried to speak with her father.
She waited until the servant closed the door behind him before turning on the Immediate Viewing Device. The image of her father blinked onto the screen and she lifted the hear-speak device to her ear.
“Father, what is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, my child. I have good news,” he beamed. “You know the old peat swamps up in Billings? It seems the previous survey was incorrect; there is a large seam of anthracite, and in its purest form. My dear Nyota, our troubles are over. You do not need to marry until you wish to and with whom you wish!”
She smiled back at him, thrilled that her family’s fortunes would no longer be dependent on the Vulcans. But a tiny thought echoed in her head: But I think I actually like Spock.
“Father this is wonderful!” she said out loud.
“And I can now contact Sarek with and withdraw our proposal.” He sat back in his chair. “Oh, my dear, dutiful child. Now you may safely enjoy the Harvest Festival with no thought of political alliances. Have fun, my dear Nyota.” He moved to switch off the machine.
“Father, wait. I have a question for you…”
***
Nyota paced in her suite, thinking about all she’d learned from her conversation with her father.
“I do wish you would sit down, Ny. You are giving me a headache with your pacing.”
“Sorry, Cousin. I’m just trying to put all the pieces together, and something just doesn’t add up.”
“Perhaps not, but the fact is that, no matter who created the false report, the lie was discovered before you were married off to one of the Vulcans under false circumstances.”
“True. But why do I have the feeling that this isn’t over yet?”
“Because you are like your father, seeing intrigue and subterfuge everywhere you turn.”
“Perhaps, but remember; in this case, he was right.”
Wynn had no answer for that, and changed the subject. “It’s late,” she said. “It’s time we got ready for the ball.”
Nyota nodded. Maybe Wynn was right. Maybe she was over-analyzing things. Then again, maybe she was clinging to this simply because she harbored an attraction to Spock.
***
Wynn noticed that Nyota was unusually concerned with her appearance as she dressed for the ball. She smiled to herself as her cousin fussed at Cassie during their preparations. Soon a knock at the door announced Captain Kirk’s arrival. As the servant opened the door for him, he seemed stunned into silence as he regarded Nyota. He cleared his throat.
“You look stunning.”
“Why thank you, Captain!” said Wynn, stepping in front of him with a sly grin. “Now, give me your arm and let’s be on our way.”
When the trio approached the grand staircase, a footman announced their arrival.
“Lady Nyota and Lady Wynneth of the Federated Territories, escorted by Captain James Kirk!”
They made their way down the steps and Nyota scanned the foyer for Spock. But she caught Sybok’s eye first, and while his countenance conveyed his admiration, she also sensed something else she could not define. She gave him the barest of acknowledgements and looked for Spock. There he was, dressed in his formal Alliance blues, looking cool and aloof, except for his eyes. And what she saw in his eyes sent a wave of heat through her.
Spock moved forward and met her as she reached the foot of the stairs. With a bow to Wynn and Kirk, he gave Nyota his arm and they made their way to the ballroom.
The opening strains of the traditional first dance began and the pair positioned themselves with the other couples. As they moved towards each other in the familiar steps, Nyota noticed with surprise how well the young lord moved. For someone so stiff and reserved at other times, he had such grace on the dance floor.
The next dance was a waltz, and Nyota found herself enveloped in his unusual warmth. The music, the feel of his body so close, the smell of him all threatened to overwhelm her in the most pleasant way. When the music ended she found herself lightheaded.
“M’lady,” said Spock, concerned, “are you well?”
“Quite well, thank you. It’s just been a long time since I’ve danced.”
“Would you care for some fresh air? We might just step out onto the terrace...”
He opened the door for her and she was grateful for the early autumn breeze. She knew it would not be long before her cousin or Captain Kirk followed them here, so she turned to face Spock.
“Sir, I do not know if you have heard, but my father no longer intends for me to marry at this time.”
Spock’s face remained impassive; there might have been a tightening of the brow. “I…see.”
“No, I don’t think you do. What I am trying to s-”
Approaching footsteps interrupted her, and Sybok stood on the threshold.
“Well! Isn’t this a charming scene?” He walked onto the terrace. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No, indeed not,” said Nyota. “I was just about to tell your brother of a wonderful turn of events.” She looked up at Sybok defiantly. “It seems,” she continued, “that the initial geographical reports of the Billings sector were incorrect. There is a substantial anthracite deposit there. My country’s financial position has stabilized.”
There was the slightest twitch under Sybok’s left eye. “This is…wonderful news.”
Spock eyes narrowed. “Isn’t it, brother? I wonder who performed those initial surveys.”
Nyota turned to Spock with a half-smile. “I believe my father mentioned that Prince Sybok recommended the company.”
“Is that so, brother?”
Sybok face took on its usual charming air. “It is, dear brother. I am very sorry they proved so unreliable in the matter. I’ve never had any trouble with them before.”
“Have you not? It is fortunate, then, that my father sought confirmation of the findings.” She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. “Forgive me, gentlemen, but I find I am getting chilled. Shall we return to the ballroom?”
“Of course,” said Sybok. Nyota slipped her arm into Spock’s and they led the way back to the house. Now that the news was out, how could she let Spock know how she felt? Perhaps she was not ready to marry quiet yet, but she was ready to get to know him better. Her musings were interrupted by Spock’s sudden gasp. She looked up at him to see Sybok’s hand on his shoulder. Spock fell slowly to the ground in a heap. Sybok grabbed her by the arm and quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
“Who would have thought that my quiet little brother would be able to win your affections, eh? And I had no idea your father would be smart enough to look into the false report I’d had made. Well, pretty princess-no matter. You and your little country will be mine…” Nyota felt a nerve in her neck scream in pain, but she was already losing consciousness. She never felt the ground as she fell next to Spock.
Chapter 3
There was Sybok, heir to the throne, charming, handsome, and inventive. Rumor held him to be a bit rebellious, but his stepmother believed him to actually be dangerous.
Then there was Spock, quiet and artistic. Marrying him would hold few of the pressures that would come with marrying the heir. His servants spoke well of him. And, truth be told, she had more in common with Spock.
She dozed on and off until first light, and then gave up hope of any real sleep. She roused Cassie and got dressed, then sent a note to her escort.
“Dear Captain Kirk. My apologies for waking you at this hour, but I’d like to speak to my father, and feel more comfortable doing so from the airship than from our host’s equipment….”
The captain was at her door within 15 minutes, and the pair walked to the ship with a yawning Cassie in tow. Nyota was soon in the private cabin and cranking the Instant Viewing Device to life. Soon her father’s face was before her, sleepy and careworn.
“My daughter, what has happened?
“Nothing father, please do not worry. I only took this opportunity to let you know…” How could she say it? “To let you know that I have had the distinct honor of meeting the Princess of Vulcan and her two sons.”
Her father, wide awake now, raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? And what…er…what did you think of that family?”
“The Princess seems a kind person, father. I was very much impressed. The elder son is an inventor…” she said, her eyes cast downward. “But Spock, the younger son,” she added looking pointedly at her father, “He is a musician and has the same love of languages as do I…” He nodded with a small smile.
“Well, Nyota, I am glad you have spent your time well. I look forward to your return.” He reached over and severed the connection.
Nyota sat for a time looking at the blank screen. Well, it was done. She’d told her father her preference. Now he would negotiate with Sarek. There was nothing to do now but wait, and try to get to know Spock better.
She took a deep breath and schooled her features before standing to leave. When she closed the door behind her, Captain Kirk rose from his chair in the sitting room.
“All is well, I hope, m’lady?”
“All is well, Captain Kirk. All is well.”
I hope, she added to herself.
***Nyota, Captain Kirk, and Wynn were amongst the first at breakfast. Captain Kirk excused himself early, and when Spock entered the breakfast room, Wynn suddenly felt the need for a walk. Nyota blushed, Spock blushed, and as he sat next to her, it seemed as if they would spend the meal in silence.
He is handsome, Nyota found herself thinking. Even though he is not my type, at least he isn’t ugly. And there is intelligence behind those eyes. And if his servants think well of him, that is a good sign….
She tried to think of something to say, but all her diplomatic small-talk fled her brain. At least she didn’t jump when he finally spoke.
“Lady Nyota, it appears to be a fine morning. Would you care to take a walk after breakfast?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but was forestalled by Sybok who was suddenly behind them.
“Ha! A walk indeed! I’m sure you’d much rather take a ride in my steamcar, wouldn’t you?”
“You are too kind, Lord Sybok, but I must say I am more in the mood for a quiet walk this morning.”
Sybok’s face fell, and she thought she saw something other than disappointment in his expression.
“Well,” he said. “Enjoy your walk.” He bowed and quickly walked out of the room.
Spock seemed to be embarrassed by his Sybok’s behavior. “Please excuse my brother, m’lady. He can be quite…abrupt.”
“There is no need to apologize,” she smiled. “Well, shall we?”
Spock stood and held out his arm, and she slipped her hand around it. She felt a flush creep up her neck as she felt the strong muscle beneath the fabric of his jacket. And he was so warm! She thought it might not be that bad to be close to him.
That’s right, she told herself. Focus on the good points. Ignore the fact that he’s said barely five sentences since you met him.
“The grounds here are lovely,” she said.
“They are indeed. I have modeled some of the gardens at Vulcan on these.”
“Really? Forgive me, but you don’t strike me as the gardening type.”
He smiled, just a little upturn of the lips, and it changed his face completely.
“I enjoy many things. Languages and music, as you know, gardening and history amongst other interests.” He turned to her. “And you? What interests fill your days?”
She smiled up at him. “I admit to a love of music as well. I play the harp and sing a little. I love literature; it was my desire to read more novels that sparked my interests in languages. I wanted to read everything!”
“These are laudable pursuits,” he said, his deep brown eyes looking into hers. And then he looked away, embarrassed.
She had an idea.
“In all the commotion after the automaton display, I haven’t had an opportunity to ask you about the music. Can you tell me about the composition? And the voices? How did you create the voices?”
She’d asked the right questions. She felt him relax under her arm, and his eyes sparkled as he spoke, with no embarrassment or hesitation, about the music he created for his brother’s invention.
“The melody is based on an old Vulcan folk tune. The kinderklavier added a haunting quality; I wanted to convey a wistful mood. The voices were created by a special recording device I constructed-it takes the spoken word and blends it with the melody played on any instrument. Then it combines the two into a singing ‘voice.’ I still have some modifications to make, but I was not displeased with the initial results.”
Nyota stopped and looked up at him. “So you invented a novel technology to create a new form of music, and all your brother did was make the puppets dance?”
“Lady Nyota, he did more than ‘make the puppets dance,’” Spock said with a lopsided smile. “But I appreciate the compliment all the same.”
“You are too modest, sir,” she said. They had turned around and were headed back into the house.
“While I am gratified that others take pleasure in my music, I create it because I enjoy it.”
“You are a very interesting man, Lord Spock.”
“And, you, Lady Nyota, are quite fascinating.”
The pair made their way inside, unaware that they were being watched.
***
Spock had left Nyota at the foot of the grand staircase with a bow and a request.
“Lady Nyota, may I…Might I be so bold as to secure the first two dances with you at the ball tonight?”
“I’d be delighted,” she answered.
Most of the company spent the morning at the airfield, in the prince’s laboratory viewing the latest computational engine, or at the carriage house. Nyota stayed in the sitting room, playing the harp or reading, hoping to have a chance to speak to Princess Amanda. But the princess did not appear, and later sent her regrets to their hostess, saying that she was indisposed and would rest until supper.
After lunch, Nyota made her way to the princess’ suite, but the servant who answered the door said that Princess Amanda would have no visitors. As she made her way back downstairs, a footman ran toward her.
“M’lady, you have an incoming communication from your father. You may take the tel-com in the library.”
“Thank you,” she said, and hurried to speak with her father.
She waited until the servant closed the door behind him before turning on the Immediate Viewing Device. The image of her father blinked onto the screen and she lifted the hear-speak device to her ear.
“Father, what is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, my child. I have good news,” he beamed. “You know the old peat swamps up in Billings? It seems the previous survey was incorrect; there is a large seam of anthracite, and in its purest form. My dear Nyota, our troubles are over. You do not need to marry until you wish to and with whom you wish!”
She smiled back at him, thrilled that her family’s fortunes would no longer be dependent on the Vulcans. But a tiny thought echoed in her head: But I think I actually like Spock.
“Father this is wonderful!” she said out loud.
“And I can now contact Sarek with and withdraw our proposal.” He sat back in his chair. “Oh, my dear, dutiful child. Now you may safely enjoy the Harvest Festival with no thought of political alliances. Have fun, my dear Nyota.” He moved to switch off the machine.
“Father, wait. I have a question for you…”
***
Nyota paced in her suite, thinking about all she’d learned from her conversation with her father.
“I do wish you would sit down, Ny. You are giving me a headache with your pacing.”
“Sorry, Cousin. I’m just trying to put all the pieces together, and something just doesn’t add up.”
“Perhaps not, but the fact is that, no matter who created the false report, the lie was discovered before you were married off to one of the Vulcans under false circumstances.”
“True. But why do I have the feeling that this isn’t over yet?”
“Because you are like your father, seeing intrigue and subterfuge everywhere you turn.”
“Perhaps, but remember; in this case, he was right.”
Wynn had no answer for that, and changed the subject. “It’s late,” she said. “It’s time we got ready for the ball.”
Nyota nodded. Maybe Wynn was right. Maybe she was over-analyzing things. Then again, maybe she was clinging to this simply because she harbored an attraction to Spock.
***
Wynn noticed that Nyota was unusually concerned with her appearance as she dressed for the ball. She smiled to herself as her cousin fussed at Cassie during their preparations. Soon a knock at the door announced Captain Kirk’s arrival. As the servant opened the door for him, he seemed stunned into silence as he regarded Nyota. He cleared his throat.
“You look stunning.”
“Why thank you, Captain!” said Wynn, stepping in front of him with a sly grin. “Now, give me your arm and let’s be on our way.”
When the trio approached the grand staircase, a footman announced their arrival.
“Lady Nyota and Lady Wynneth of the Federated Territories, escorted by Captain James Kirk!”
They made their way down the steps and Nyota scanned the foyer for Spock. But she caught Sybok’s eye first, and while his countenance conveyed his admiration, she also sensed something else she could not define. She gave him the barest of acknowledgements and looked for Spock. There he was, dressed in his formal Alliance blues, looking cool and aloof, except for his eyes. And what she saw in his eyes sent a wave of heat through her.
Spock moved forward and met her as she reached the foot of the stairs. With a bow to Wynn and Kirk, he gave Nyota his arm and they made their way to the ballroom.
The opening strains of the traditional first dance began and the pair positioned themselves with the other couples. As they moved towards each other in the familiar steps, Nyota noticed with surprise how well the young lord moved. For someone so stiff and reserved at other times, he had such grace on the dance floor.
The next dance was a waltz, and Nyota found herself enveloped in his unusual warmth. The music, the feel of his body so close, the smell of him all threatened to overwhelm her in the most pleasant way. When the music ended she found herself lightheaded.
“M’lady,” said Spock, concerned, “are you well?”
“Quite well, thank you. It’s just been a long time since I’ve danced.”
“Would you care for some fresh air? We might just step out onto the terrace...”
He opened the door for her and she was grateful for the early autumn breeze. She knew it would not be long before her cousin or Captain Kirk followed them here, so she turned to face Spock.
“Sir, I do not know if you have heard, but my father no longer intends for me to marry at this time.”
Spock’s face remained impassive; there might have been a tightening of the brow. “I…see.”
“No, I don’t think you do. What I am trying to s-”
Approaching footsteps interrupted her, and Sybok stood on the threshold.
“Well! Isn’t this a charming scene?” He walked onto the terrace. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No, indeed not,” said Nyota. “I was just about to tell your brother of a wonderful turn of events.” She looked up at Sybok defiantly. “It seems,” she continued, “that the initial geographical reports of the Billings sector were incorrect. There is a substantial anthracite deposit there. My country’s financial position has stabilized.”
There was the slightest twitch under Sybok’s left eye. “This is…wonderful news.”
Spock eyes narrowed. “Isn’t it, brother? I wonder who performed those initial surveys.”
Nyota turned to Spock with a half-smile. “I believe my father mentioned that Prince Sybok recommended the company.”
“Is that so, brother?”
Sybok face took on its usual charming air. “It is, dear brother. I am very sorry they proved so unreliable in the matter. I’ve never had any trouble with them before.”
“Have you not? It is fortunate, then, that my father sought confirmation of the findings.” She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. “Forgive me, gentlemen, but I find I am getting chilled. Shall we return to the ballroom?”
“Of course,” said Sybok. Nyota slipped her arm into Spock’s and they led the way back to the house. Now that the news was out, how could she let Spock know how she felt? Perhaps she was not ready to marry quiet yet, but she was ready to get to know him better. Her musings were interrupted by Spock’s sudden gasp. She looked up at him to see Sybok’s hand on his shoulder. Spock fell slowly to the ground in a heap. Sybok grabbed her by the arm and quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
“Who would have thought that my quiet little brother would be able to win your affections, eh? And I had no idea your father would be smart enough to look into the false report I’d had made. Well, pretty princess-no matter. You and your little country will be mine…” Nyota felt a nerve in her neck scream in pain, but she was already losing consciousness. She never felt the ground as she fell next to Spock.
Chapter 3