пренебречь, вальсируем
Качать в формате .txt. Совершенно чудесная книжка из числа официальных романов, написанная, по-моему, в первую очередь ради споконяканья. Потому что Спока в ней много, и он такой! такой! 
Сама по себе книга про то, откуда взялась Саавик и как она связана со Споком, и про очередной околоромуланский заговор, в раскрытии которого она оказывается центральной фигурой. Сюжет крутится вокруг нее и Спока. Но Кирка в нем тоже достаточно, и его диалоги со Споком и комментарии про их со Споком отношения греют мою шипперскую душу
Под катом несколько особенно умилительных кусочков."Having fun, Captain?" his first officer murmured in passing.
"Fun, Spock?" Kirk turned, outraged innocence itself. "This could be very dangerous, you know. We're ordered off course, that ship has no business in the Zone, any Treaty violations get hung around my neck-and you ask me if I'm having fun?"
"I. see what you mean, Captain."
"I'm so glad you do, Mr. Spock." Kirk leaned back, and a slow, satisfied grin spread across his face. "Hell yes, I'm having fun," he said softly.
Near the end of that year one quiet afternoon in the country, Saavik glanced up from her tricorder, pointed out across the field, and said:
"Look, Spock! Rabbits!"
"Yes," he murmured, eyes on his journal, "introduced for the predators after the drought. Terran, Oryctolagus cuniculus; family Leporidae, order Lagomorpha, class Mammalia, subphylum-"
"What are they doing?"
"...mating, Saavik. Subphylum Vertebrata, phylum-"
"To make more rabbits? But they have too many already!" She frowned, propped her chin on her hands, and observed the process critically. Spock contemplated the cloud formations and wished for rain. "Vulcans do mating. Are there too many Vulcans, Spock?"
"No, Saavik."...and no rain in sight.
"Why are there too many rabbits, but not too many Vulcans?"
Yes, a logical mind. Spock addressed himself at length to various species' population problems: gestation periods, number of young at each birth, and frequency of mating. "Rabbits," he concluded, returning to his journal, "mate as often as every six weeks, whereas Vulcans must mate only once every seven years."
"Must?" she fastened on the word like a bad taste in her mouth. A poor choice; she had never cared for it. "Must?"
"...Vulcan males... must. Yes."
"But that might be inconvenient!" This word, however, was her current favorite. "What if they don't want to? What if they're busy doing something else? What if." Spock put it as gently as he could, but Saavik's face went pale. "Die? We will die if-"
"Not unless, that is. females. seldom die. Do not distress yourself, Saavikam. It is. different for you." I am doing this badly, he thought. Perhaps a study tape, at a more appropriate-
"Then you go do that mating right away, Spock! So you won't die! When did you do it last? What kind of Vulcans did you make? And where are they?" She looked about as if they might appear in the field along with the rabbits. Spock got to his feet abruptly.
"Saavik, we must go now. It is growing late."
"No it isn't. And this is important. I want to know-"
"Do not argue, Saavik," said Commander Spock of the starship Enterprise. "Now put on your shoes and come along."
"No. I prefer not to put on my shoes and come along," she informed him, scowling. "That would be inconvenient. I want to know about making Vulcans-and what you did with yours!" She sat on the ground glaring up at him. Spock glared back.
"You are being deliberately difficult, Saavik!" The instant he said it, he knew it wasn't true. She was deeply frightened.
"You say I am a Vulcan, but-" her voice shook, "-but you won't say what will happen to me! Why is that a bad question?"
And then it all came back to him, another afternoon seen through seven-year-old eyes: hot Vulcan sun streaming in the window, sand outside shimmering in the heat, the strangeness in his father's voice. Tomorrow Spock must go to see T'Pring; it was all arranged. They would touch each other's minds; they would meet again someday. and then, Sarek told him why. Motes of dust had floated, trapped in their sunbeams. The sand outside still shimmered in the heat, but it would never be the same again. The sand, the sun, his father. after that day, nothing was the same.
Spock knelt down beside her. "There are no bad questions, Saavikam, only complicated ones. And personal ones, which we shall discuss tomorrow. I do not know how it will be for you. I only know how it was for me. If I tell you," he bargained patiently, "will you promise not to argue and come home now?"
Wide-eyed, she scrambled to her feet. "Must I wear my shoes?"
"No, just. try not to interrupt." They left the field and walked along the lane in the deepening shadows of late afternoon. And very quietly, as though it all happened to someone else a long time ago, Spock told her the truth. Saavik didn't interrupt once. She walked beside him in troubled silence for a while.
"I am glad you did not die, Spock. You or your captain."
"I, too, Saavikam."
"She was a bitch!"
"That is, among other things, inaccurate. The term refers-"
"Oh, I know what it refers-and that's what she was! What she did was bad!" Saavik stopped in the lane and stamped her foot, temper brewing. "You say it is bad to hurt people, but she made people hurt each other! That is much badder! She was a bitch!" Spock didn't trust himself to comment; he came perilously close to agreeing with her. "And why didn't she do her own fighting?"
"Because... it is not allowed. Men do not fight women."
"Why not? That's stupid! I would have fought you myself! I can fight anyone-kill them, too! Except," she added virtuously, "I don't do killing anymore. And I won't do that mating either!"
"I quite understand. You have a long time to decide." Shadows were gathering in the lane as they started off once more. Saavik walked closer beside him, kicking her toes in the dust.
"I just decided, Spock. My Vulcans would not be good ones."
"Now why is that, Saavikam?" he asked in spite of himself.
She began counting reasons on her fingers. "They would argue. And be deliberately difficult. And interrupt, and curse, and hate to wear their shoes. And ask com-pli-ca-ted questions." She looked up at him wisely. "They would be very inconvenient, you know."
Spock's eyebrow actually ached, and it was a long moment before he spoke. "Not... necessarily," he said.
Saavik frowned and continued her intense scrutiny. Uhura tried not to appear amused.
"Well, games can be a lot of things. But yes, generally they're fun. Saavik? Is something wrong?" she asked gently, wondering if her hair had come undone.
"No," said Saavik. "But I have never seen anyone so aesthetically pleasing. I was unaware of that quality in humans. Oh." She bit her lower lip, frowned, and looked to Spock again. "I believe that was a personal remark."
"Several," he acknowledged.
"I apologize," she said. "I did not mean to be impolite."
"Don't worry, Saavik," Uhura beamed, delighted. "That's not impolite where I come from."
"I dare say Commander Uhura will survive the experience," Spock murmured.
Требую фемслэша
"Uncertain, Captain. The odds that those weapons remain on Hellguard are slim indeed. We must try to reach that planet before any chance to destroy them is lost. Jim. I would prefer to serve here." An old, familiar struggle crossed Spock's face: how to express in logical terms the emotion he wouldn't allow himself to feel. In all their years together that sight had never failed to touch Kirk-and to delight him. Now he couldn't stand it.
[Про Колинар]
"...We do not write or speak of this. The meaning comes to each person differently, the Masters say. But its truth cannot be taught. Its peace cannot be shared. It cannot be given to another. It can only be lived. You have known the desire. But even that must be given up in order to attain it. You must give up everything, everyone."
Your answer lies elsewhere, Spock... and Vulcan's sun burned bitter that day on the ancient stones of Gol. It still did.
"...And if that is the path you choose, on Vulcan, with the Masters, it may be possible for you. But not for me. I tried. I. failed."
"But-" Saavik couldn't believe it. "-you are never angry! I have never seen you angry! Not even that time I broke your new computer, or that time I watered your memory crystals, or-"
"You were only a child, Saavikam, you never gave me cause. And my failing..." the words came slowly, "...was not anger."
"Then what-" She frowned at him, troubled. Spock waited for the inevitable question, knowing he must answer, wondering how. But the question never came.
[Про кавайного алиенчика-техника]
And with that it worked its way around the bridge, chatting, using the hair-like extrusions on its gracile fingers and toes to remove panel covers, probe consoles' workings-often several at once-and reassemble them with impossible speed. Instrument response time increased. Uhura's board no longer screeched; it chimed. A passing hand banished the sticky action of Saavik's chair, which she hadn't mentioned to anyone. At the science station Obo found nothing to adjust. It stopped, turned a remarkable shade of pink, and stroked the viewer with great respect. "Ssspock!" it inferred correctly. After repairing the conn's armrest panel, it climbed up into the captain's chair and fell asleep. Which was where Spock found it when he returned to the bridge.
"Our stowaway appears fatigued," he observed mildly. "Commander Uhura, perhaps you could assist it to its quarters." Then he sat down to work, ignoring the openmouthed stares of the crew.
Сама по себе книга про то, откуда взялась Саавик и как она связана со Споком, и про очередной околоромуланский заговор, в раскрытии которого она оказывается центральной фигурой. Сюжет крутится вокруг нее и Спока. Но Кирка в нем тоже достаточно, и его диалоги со Споком и комментарии про их со Споком отношения греют мою шипперскую душу
Под катом несколько особенно умилительных кусочков."Having fun, Captain?" his first officer murmured in passing.
"Fun, Spock?" Kirk turned, outraged innocence itself. "This could be very dangerous, you know. We're ordered off course, that ship has no business in the Zone, any Treaty violations get hung around my neck-and you ask me if I'm having fun?"
"I. see what you mean, Captain."
"I'm so glad you do, Mr. Spock." Kirk leaned back, and a slow, satisfied grin spread across his face. "Hell yes, I'm having fun," he said softly.
Near the end of that year one quiet afternoon in the country, Saavik glanced up from her tricorder, pointed out across the field, and said:
"Look, Spock! Rabbits!"
"Yes," he murmured, eyes on his journal, "introduced for the predators after the drought. Terran, Oryctolagus cuniculus; family Leporidae, order Lagomorpha, class Mammalia, subphylum-"
"What are they doing?"
"...mating, Saavik. Subphylum Vertebrata, phylum-"
"To make more rabbits? But they have too many already!" She frowned, propped her chin on her hands, and observed the process critically. Spock contemplated the cloud formations and wished for rain. "Vulcans do mating. Are there too many Vulcans, Spock?"
"No, Saavik."...and no rain in sight.
"Why are there too many rabbits, but not too many Vulcans?"
Yes, a logical mind. Spock addressed himself at length to various species' population problems: gestation periods, number of young at each birth, and frequency of mating. "Rabbits," he concluded, returning to his journal, "mate as often as every six weeks, whereas Vulcans must mate only once every seven years."
"Must?" she fastened on the word like a bad taste in her mouth. A poor choice; she had never cared for it. "Must?"
"...Vulcan males... must. Yes."
"But that might be inconvenient!" This word, however, was her current favorite. "What if they don't want to? What if they're busy doing something else? What if." Spock put it as gently as he could, but Saavik's face went pale. "Die? We will die if-"
"Not unless, that is. females. seldom die. Do not distress yourself, Saavikam. It is. different for you." I am doing this badly, he thought. Perhaps a study tape, at a more appropriate-
"Then you go do that mating right away, Spock! So you won't die! When did you do it last? What kind of Vulcans did you make? And where are they?" She looked about as if they might appear in the field along with the rabbits. Spock got to his feet abruptly.
"Saavik, we must go now. It is growing late."
"No it isn't. And this is important. I want to know-"
"Do not argue, Saavik," said Commander Spock of the starship Enterprise. "Now put on your shoes and come along."
"No. I prefer not to put on my shoes and come along," she informed him, scowling. "That would be inconvenient. I want to know about making Vulcans-and what you did with yours!" She sat on the ground glaring up at him. Spock glared back.
"You are being deliberately difficult, Saavik!" The instant he said it, he knew it wasn't true. She was deeply frightened.
"You say I am a Vulcan, but-" her voice shook, "-but you won't say what will happen to me! Why is that a bad question?"
And then it all came back to him, another afternoon seen through seven-year-old eyes: hot Vulcan sun streaming in the window, sand outside shimmering in the heat, the strangeness in his father's voice. Tomorrow Spock must go to see T'Pring; it was all arranged. They would touch each other's minds; they would meet again someday. and then, Sarek told him why. Motes of dust had floated, trapped in their sunbeams. The sand outside still shimmered in the heat, but it would never be the same again. The sand, the sun, his father. after that day, nothing was the same.
Spock knelt down beside her. "There are no bad questions, Saavikam, only complicated ones. And personal ones, which we shall discuss tomorrow. I do not know how it will be for you. I only know how it was for me. If I tell you," he bargained patiently, "will you promise not to argue and come home now?"
Wide-eyed, she scrambled to her feet. "Must I wear my shoes?"
"No, just. try not to interrupt." They left the field and walked along the lane in the deepening shadows of late afternoon. And very quietly, as though it all happened to someone else a long time ago, Spock told her the truth. Saavik didn't interrupt once. She walked beside him in troubled silence for a while.
"I am glad you did not die, Spock. You or your captain."
"I, too, Saavikam."
"She was a bitch!"
"That is, among other things, inaccurate. The term refers-"
"Oh, I know what it refers-and that's what she was! What she did was bad!" Saavik stopped in the lane and stamped her foot, temper brewing. "You say it is bad to hurt people, but she made people hurt each other! That is much badder! She was a bitch!" Spock didn't trust himself to comment; he came perilously close to agreeing with her. "And why didn't she do her own fighting?"
"Because... it is not allowed. Men do not fight women."
"Why not? That's stupid! I would have fought you myself! I can fight anyone-kill them, too! Except," she added virtuously, "I don't do killing anymore. And I won't do that mating either!"
"I quite understand. You have a long time to decide." Shadows were gathering in the lane as they started off once more. Saavik walked closer beside him, kicking her toes in the dust.
"I just decided, Spock. My Vulcans would not be good ones."
"Now why is that, Saavikam?" he asked in spite of himself.
She began counting reasons on her fingers. "They would argue. And be deliberately difficult. And interrupt, and curse, and hate to wear their shoes. And ask com-pli-ca-ted questions." She looked up at him wisely. "They would be very inconvenient, you know."
Spock's eyebrow actually ached, and it was a long moment before he spoke. "Not... necessarily," he said.
Saavik frowned and continued her intense scrutiny. Uhura tried not to appear amused.
"Well, games can be a lot of things. But yes, generally they're fun. Saavik? Is something wrong?" she asked gently, wondering if her hair had come undone.
"No," said Saavik. "But I have never seen anyone so aesthetically pleasing. I was unaware of that quality in humans. Oh." She bit her lower lip, frowned, and looked to Spock again. "I believe that was a personal remark."
"Several," he acknowledged.
"I apologize," she said. "I did not mean to be impolite."
"Don't worry, Saavik," Uhura beamed, delighted. "That's not impolite where I come from."
"I dare say Commander Uhura will survive the experience," Spock murmured.
Требую фемслэша
"Uncertain, Captain. The odds that those weapons remain on Hellguard are slim indeed. We must try to reach that planet before any chance to destroy them is lost. Jim. I would prefer to serve here." An old, familiar struggle crossed Spock's face: how to express in logical terms the emotion he wouldn't allow himself to feel. In all their years together that sight had never failed to touch Kirk-and to delight him. Now he couldn't stand it.
[Про Колинар]
"...We do not write or speak of this. The meaning comes to each person differently, the Masters say. But its truth cannot be taught. Its peace cannot be shared. It cannot be given to another. It can only be lived. You have known the desire. But even that must be given up in order to attain it. You must give up everything, everyone."
Your answer lies elsewhere, Spock... and Vulcan's sun burned bitter that day on the ancient stones of Gol. It still did.
"...And if that is the path you choose, on Vulcan, with the Masters, it may be possible for you. But not for me. I tried. I. failed."
"But-" Saavik couldn't believe it. "-you are never angry! I have never seen you angry! Not even that time I broke your new computer, or that time I watered your memory crystals, or-"
"You were only a child, Saavikam, you never gave me cause. And my failing..." the words came slowly, "...was not anger."
"Then what-" She frowned at him, troubled. Spock waited for the inevitable question, knowing he must answer, wondering how. But the question never came.
[Про кавайного алиенчика-техника]
And with that it worked its way around the bridge, chatting, using the hair-like extrusions on its gracile fingers and toes to remove panel covers, probe consoles' workings-often several at once-and reassemble them with impossible speed. Instrument response time increased. Uhura's board no longer screeched; it chimed. A passing hand banished the sticky action of Saavik's chair, which she hadn't mentioned to anyone. At the science station Obo found nothing to adjust. It stopped, turned a remarkable shade of pink, and stroked the viewer with great respect. "Ssspock!" it inferred correctly. After repairing the conn's armrest panel, it climbed up into the captain's chair and fell asleep. Which was where Spock found it when he returned to the bridge.
"Our stowaway appears fatigued," he observed mildly. "Commander Uhura, perhaps you could assist it to its quarters." Then he sat down to work, ignoring the openmouthed stares of the crew.
@темы: .книги, .Star Trek
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18.11.2010 в 11:59-
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18.11.2010 в 15:48-
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18.11.2010 в 16:00Вот так всегда.