This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: the word “information”.
I used the prompt word several times, in this post.
While I was getting ready to write something in FocusWriter, I happened upon my Story a Day May file for The IDIC Romance. I’m writing a darker novel, this month, and I miss my inter-species lovers, so I stopped for a bit to reread and reminisce…and I found the passage below, which contains the word ‘information’ completely coincidentally, since it was written last month.
Maybe more oddly, though, it fits the theme I was going to explore in today’s stream-of-consciousness passage – that information is power, power that is too often withheld from those who might use it to better their own circumstances by those who benefit from their ignorance and subjugation…
Governments do this. Schools do it.
So do parents, far too often.
Cultures can do it, too.
That’s what happens to T’Pol, here. It’s not so much that her culture intended to withhold information from her; it’s that there was no understanding that she would need to know these things, that her chosen mate wouldn’t be of her own species, that, in a culture where children are pairbonded at age seven to ensure the stability of society as a whole, that she would be in a position to choose her own mate, in the first place…
But, whatever the reasons, information was what she needed. Information gave her a certain power, even when it was too uncomfortable to take in except in extremely small, measured doses. The freedom to access the information she sought, and consider it, then share what she learned with the man she desires…that opens up a whole new level of sharing between them.
Sometimes, you just need to know, y’know?
Trip T’Pol, and all the rest of Star Trek: Enterprise belong to Paramount. I play with them strictly for my own amusement – and perhaps yours, too. And because T’Pol tells me to – and she’s rather formidable! =)
This is an extrapolated story, occuring a few hours after the events in S3E15 “Harbinger”. Spoilers for that episode.
This story is rated R for adult content and sexual themes.
Proceed at your own risk!
“Private Intercultural Research”
T’Pol had anticipated that he would ask, that he would want to know why she would keep a book she didn’t read. She had prepared a reply, but now it felt – insincere. If she intended to mate with him, didn’t she owe him her truth, or as much of it as she dared to give him?
“I haven’t read it in part because it is – unsettling to me. As I’ve said, Vulcans don’t discuss sexuality.”
“I guess I can understand that, but not why you’d buy it, in that case.”
“There was – something – I wanted to research. I asked the proprietor of the shop to mark the page in question, so that I could peruse it – somewhat more comfortably.”
“You must really have wanted that information. What was it?”
T’Pol was unable to say. All she could do was to reach for the book, and hand it to him, then rise, and walk the few steps to his window, so that she didn’t need to face him as he made the discovery. Would he remember? Would he be angry? Would he feel that her interest was intrusive?
Would he understand?
“You want me to look at this?” She nodded, watching his indistinct reflection in the glass. “Are you going to give me a clue, here, or do I need to guess at what page you wanted to see?”
She couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak the name she had memorized in those first days, although it was etched in flames in her soul.
“All right, then – time to put my detective hat on, I guess.” He set the book into the place she’d occupied, and ran a finger across the image embossed on the cover. “If all the art’s this lovely, I’m hoping you’ll let me borrow this, if you aren’t going to look at any more than the one page. But we can talk about that later, I guess.” He stood the book on its end, then allowed it to fall open.
Trip stared at the pages that were revealed. He drew in his breath sharply, and T’Pol’s stomach clenched tightly, as though it would reject the plomik broth she’d eaten at lunch. Trip got up, and walked away a step or two, and she could feel his gaze on her, even though she couldn’t see his face from this position. Then he came back, walking around and staring at the book, his tongue pouched in his cheek. Then he dragged a hand across his mouth, and said, “Congress of the Crow…T’Pol? Wanna talk about it? Can you? Because, I gotta say, this kind of raises more questions than it answers.”
“I – wished to – know how – how to – “She couldn’t turn to face him, or go on.
“How to do – this?”
If you don’t know what was on the pages, you can look up the information easily enough – definitely a benefit of this remarkable time we live in. You might even find pictures as lovely as those in T’Pol’s book…And if you’d like to know what happens next for Trip and T’Pol, read the full version of “Private Intercultural Research“.