laurajv: The Vulcan Community Finds Your Shenanigans Illogical (t'pau)
Bones flung himself into the chair opposite Jim, and glared.

Jim clicked off his screen and steepled his hands on the desk, in his best Bones-annoying-Spock-impersonating manner, and waited. He did not have to wait long.

"Vulcans," said Bones, "breed like rabbits, apparently. The new population numbers just came out. Over ninety percent of Vulcan women of childbearing age had kids last year. Over half of them had twins. That's just unnatural."

Jim blinked at him. "So maybe it's not. Maybe they're all hopped up on fertility drugs. So what?"

"They're not, that's the thing, Jim. That's the word on the med-net, anyway. They're not importing or manufacturing any fertility drugs. They've got no surviving reproductive specialists and they haven't requested any from Rigel. They're doing it the old-fashioned way. Whatever the Vulcan old-fashioned way is, and they're as tight-lipped about that as an Aldebaran shellmouth." He paused, contemplatively. "Maybe they're budding."

"Maybe they have an evolved mechanism for dealing with catastrophic population loss once returned to a resource-rich environment," Jim said, and Bones stared at him as if he'd grown three heads. "What? I passed Galactic Evolutionary Schemata with honors. As a first-year."

"I hate you," said Bones, with feeling.

January 2017

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