Meditation

[Webmaster 20]

Subject: Meditation

Date: Fri, Oct 10, 1997 12:41 AM

From: LtnKitKat

 

 

--  Chapter 4  --

--  Meditation  --

 

   Kit looked down at her polished boots, feeling a bit guilty and more than a bit worried about Savvik. She lay down on her bed beneath the slanted glasteel window and watched the stars go by, reminded of those two innocent sparks of pure life that she had seen. As she drifted off, she pictured them dancing around the Vulcan Q who had created them, and laughed quietly as she pictured that smile on Savvik's face....

 

   The smile, she suddenly realized, he only ever shared with her.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

   Savvik slowly walked the corridors of the ship, heading in the general direction of his quarters. He wasn't sure if he had done the right thing, but Kit had asked him to, and that was enough for him. Still, there was a nagging doubt deep beneath his thoughts as he went throught the door to his quarters.

 

   The lights came on upon his entry, and a woman about twenty centimeters shorter than Savvik with her blond hair in a bun, fizzled into existence before him wearing a long, almost Victorian, dress.

 

   "Good evening, Janus," she said cheerily with an English accent.

   "Hello, Victoria," he replied much less cheerily.

   "Bad evening, perhaps then?" the holographic computer asked.

   "Seems like a very long one," he answered, and headed to the replicator. He produced a basket of red-and-green Gala apples and centered them on the table, enjoying their aesthetic appeal. "I guess 20-20 hindsight is catching up to me." he said. The holographic woman nodded sympathetically and faded from existence.

 

   He pulled up a console and pressed some buttons, accessing Debussy's "Claire de Lune" and putting it softly on speakers. He removed his black boots, followed by his uniform top and pants. He threw them into the garment reprocessor, and put on a pair of silk pajama bottoms. Feeling a bit more comfortable, he flopped down and stretched out on his sofa, closed his eyes, and let the strains of Debussy carry him away.