Selar saw what had drawn her attention. She didn't smile, of course, or frown, or in any way evince any emotion. "You have not seen a Shantzar? A Memory Lamp?"

"No, I . . . have not," Soleta said. "A tribute of sorts?"

"Of sorts, yes. To someone . . . long gone." Briskly, she turned to Soleta and said, "I am in a . . . somewhat difficult position. I must ask your indulgence, not only as a crew woman, but as a fellow Vulcan . . . indeed, the only other Vulcan on this vessel. I ask..." She cleared her throat. "I formally ask you to grant me Succor."

Soleta was not quite as skilled as Selar when it came to covering her surprise. "A formal request? You could not simply ask for my help, and assume that I would give it?"

She looked downward. It was surprising to Soleta that Selar was having trouble meeting her direct gaze. "We speak of delicate matters and uncertainties. I do not wish to impose on friendship."

"Are we friends?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Selar. "That is the point."

"I cannot say I understand, because that would be lying."

Selar looked around her cabin, looked anywhere except at Soleta. "I do not... interact well with others," she said after a time.

"A curious admission for a doctor to make," Soleta couldn't help but observe.

Another might have taken that as a criticism, but Selar merely nodded in acknowledgment. "As a doctor, I do not see myself interacting with individuals, but rather with their ailments. It is no more necessary to make an emotional investment in patients than it is for an engineer to bond with a power coupling. If it breaks, it is my job, my vocation, to repair it. That is all."

"But engineers do bond, do they not?" asked Selar. "Humans in particular. They tend to invest inanimate objects with a sense of life. They even ascribe genders to their vessels, calling them 'she.'"

"Granted. It gives them . . . comfort, I would imagine. Humans are frequently in need of comfort." She looked imperiously at Soleta. "Vulcans are not. That is one of the elements which has been our greatest strength."

And with a sigh, Soleta replied, "Or weakness."

Selar seemed inclined to reply to that, but clearly she changed her mind. "We have gotten off the subject," she said, and once again seemed intensely interested in looking anywhere but at Soleta. "I have formally requested Succor. Do you understand the parameters of such a petition?"

"I believe I do," Soleta said slowly. "You are asking that I oblige myself to help you with some matter without knowing the nature of it, or what that obligation binds me to. It gives me no option to state that the request is beyond my ability to help you. Gives me no opportunity simply to refuse, for whatever reason. It is generally an application made by a fairly wretched and frightened individual who feels that she has no one on whom she can count."

"I would dispute the accuracy of the last statement..."

"Would you?" asked Soleta with such sudden intensity that it virtually forced Selar to look directly at her. "Would you really?"

"I..." Her Vulcan discipline was most impressive. Her chin ever-so-slightly outthrust, she said, "Since I am presently in the process of asking you for Succor, it would not be appropriate for me to engage in a dispute over your opinions. Believe what you wish. But I would appreciate an answer to the question."

"The answer is no."

Soleta turned on her heel and headed for the door. She was almost there when Selar halted her with a word . . .

"Please."

There was no more emotion, no more inflection in the one word than there had been in any of the words preceding it. And yet Soleta was sure that she could hear the desperation in Selar's voice. She turned back to the doctor and said flatly, the words in something of a rush, "I hereby, of my own free will, grant you Succor. In what way may I be of service."

Selar took a step forward and said, "Mind-meld with me."

"What?"

"I am concerned over my frame of mind. My concern is that my mental faculties are beginning to erode. I have been experiencing . . . feelings. Sensations. Confusions which can only be deemed inappropriate in light of my training and experience."

Slowly, Soleta sank into a chair, not taking her eyes off Selar, "You want me to mind-meld with you."

Selar paced the room, speaking in a clinically detached manner that made her feel far more comfortable than acknowledging the emotional turmoil she was straining to keep at bay. "I believe that I may be suffering the earliest stages of Bendii Syndrome, causing the disintegration of my self-control."

"If that is what you believe, then certainly there must be medical tests..."

But Selar shook her head. "Bendii Syndrome, at this point, would not be detectable through standard medical technologies. There are physical symptoms, yes, changes in certain waves patterns. But these are ascribable to a variety of possible ailments. It could also be Hibbs Disease, or Telemioistis... it could even be although that is an impossibility."

"Impossible . . . why? Timing is wrong?"

Selar suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Yes."

"When was the last—?"

"It cannot be, believe me," Selar told her in no uncertain terms. Clearly considering the subject closed, she continued briskly, "In this situation, diagnosis via mind-meld would be the accepted and appropriate procedure to follow on Vulcan. There are doctors, psi-meds, who specialize in the technique."

"But we're not on Vulcan, and I'm not a doctor," Soleta reminded her. "This is not a situation with which I am comfortable."

"I fully understand that. However, it would not be required that you have any medical training. During the mind-meld, I will be able to use your 'outside' perspective as if it were a diagnostic tool. Were I not a doctor myself, and were I not thoroughly trained in such procedures, it would be impossible. As it stands, it is more cumbersome and inefficient than simply to have a psi-med conduct the process. But I am willing to make do."

A long moment went by, during which Soleta said nothing. Selar was no fool; Soleta's hesitation was evident. But she was not about to back off. "You have granted me Succor," she reminded her, as if the reminder were necessary. "You cannot refuse."

"True. However," and Soleta stood, squaring her shoulders. She seemed even more uncomfortable now than Selar had moments before, and she did not have the self-discipline or control to cover it as skillfully as Dr. Selar."... however, I am within my rights to request that you release me from my promise. I do so now."

"I will not."

"You would force me to mind-meld with you?" Soleta made absolutely no effort to hide her surprise. "That is contrary to..." She couldn't even begin to articulate it. Mind-meld was a personal, private matter. To force someone to perform it upon you, or thrust your own mind into another ... it was virtually unthinkable.

"Lieutenant, I understand your hesitation," Selar began.

"No, I do not think you do."

"We barely know one another, and you feel pressured," Selar began. "Such a mind-meld will require you to probe more deeply than one normally would. The sort of meld that is either performed between intimates, or by extremely well trained psi-meds who are capable of such private intrusions while still shielding the—"