by Uhura's Song
The universal translator garbled that: another not-word in the Sivaoan tongue. "I'll show you," Wilson said, "but you have to let go for a minute. I don't want to pull your tails, not even by accident." She gave each tail a final reassuring brush as the Sivaoans drew away. Neither knew what to expect, and Distant Smoke eased Brightspot just beyond Wilson's reach.
For fear she did not see Distant Smoke's concern, Jim Kirk said,
"Dr. Wilson-"
She turned and cocked her head to one side, her eyes bright with mischief. "Hug, Captain?" she said, catching him completely by surprise. "For demonstration purposes, of course."
"Of course," he said and immediately regretted the words. They made it sound as if demonstration could be his only possible motive- and he could think of a dozen better reasons for hugging Evan. He hoped she wouldn't hold a remark made in surprise against him.
Smiling, she put her arms around his waist and squeezed with all her might. His first discovery was that she was even smaller than he had originally thought; his second, that she was shaking. His arms closed around her shoulders purely to comfort- and remained for all those better reasons. After a moment, he became acutely aware of the eyes on them, Sivaoan, human and Vulcan.... He released her.
"Thank you, Captain," she said.
"Any time, Dr. Wilson," he replied.
She blushed and turned back to Distant Smoke. "That's a hug," she said. "May I give you a hug, Distant Smoke?"
"Odd," he said. "It does seem affectionate for such a gesture. For us, that would be a fighting position, but you have no claws and no teeth to speak of, so you pose no threat. Yes, please..."
Evan Wilson cautiously enfolded his torso and hugged; Distant Smoke kept his arms raised, well away from her body. She tipped her head back but could not make eye contact in that position. "Distant Smoke? Are you all right?"
"Yes," he said, then added hesitantly, "I should like to experiment... may I return the 'hug'? I will pledge in Old Tongue to keep my claws sheathed and my teeth from your throat."
"I don't understand your Old Tongue, Distant Smoke, but I'll accept your word. It takes two to make a good hug I'd be disappointed if you didn't at least try."
Still he hesitated. "You seem very fragile. You will tell me instantly if I am too rough with you. There is no dishonor in that."
"We humans and Vulcans are tougher than we look, but I'll let you know if you're about to break anything."
Distant Smoke very cautiously put his arms around her, enveloping her completely.
"Bozhe moi," said Chekov, in an awed undertone, "if I hedn't seen her playing with Snarl..." His voice trailed off.
'Playing!' thought Kirk, and his mind added, with almost involuntary humor, 'Bozhe moi' is right! He could not tear his eyes away. Although his nerves screamed the necessity to do something to protect Wilson, Distant Smoke was good to his word: his claws remained sheathed, his mouth closed.
"That's it," Wilson said, "now squeeze." Kirk could see Wilson's arms tighten again. Distant Smoke squeezed, then instantly relaxed his grip. "Try again," said Wilson, "a little harder." Distant Smoke did, again releasing very quickly.
"Perfect," said Wilson. "Once more, with feeling- and hold on a little bit longer." This time their arms tightened in unison, and Jim Kirk caught a glimpse of Wilson's face, half concealed in fur. She had the contented smile of a small child who has been given the world's greatest stuffed toy.
They broke away, Evan Wilson chuckling happily. Distant Smoke, in a burst of identical humor, wrapped his tail about her waist. Not only did Kirk's nerves stop their jangle, but he too found himself chuckling. And that, he thought, is one of the reasons I joined Starfleet- to see that kind of sight.
Something entwined itself around his right wrist. Startled by the strength of the snakelike grip, he looked down. It was Brightspot's tail. "Hello, Brightspot," he said, "I'm Captain Kirk." He stroked the tip of the tail.
Evan Wilson said, "That's what I call a successful experiment."
Distant Smoke pricked his whiskers forward then laid them back- a nod followed by a more serious expression. "Don't experiment with the very young ones, Evan Wilson, or with Brightspot- even if she is old enough to walk."
Brightspot drooped a little, Kirk thought, and he stroked her tail tip again. "Why not?" he asked on the youngster's behalf, and she brightened in his direction.
"Reflexes, Captain," Wilson answered. "I could feel Distant Smoke fighting his own. Brightspot needs her reflexes to survive in this society; she can't afford to fight her training or her instincts."
"Distant Smoke can't hug Mr. Spock either," Brightspot said, "Mr. Spock is a Vulcan." She looked up at Kirk for confirmation; he nodded and, in case the gesture was not understood, said, "Yes, that's exactly right, Brightspot." Brightspot looked pleased with herself.
Distant Smoke said to Wilson, "You and your pack will eat with us. You are too many to share our tent but the to-Srallansres will help you with your own shelter.... Come, Brightspot."
Brightspot gave Kirk's arm an amiable squeeze with her tail and a quick tug before she unlooped it. Jim Kirk grinned at her. "Yes, Brightspot, I'm coming." To the rest of the landing party, he said, "People, we've been invited to lunch. Shall we go?"
Spock, he saw, was staring after Evan Wilson with an expression he normally reserved for complex computations. "Mr. Spock?"
He received no explanation. With a final glance at Wilson, Spock said only, "Coming, Captain."
Chapter Six
"It's been a long time since anyone asked me on a picnic," Kirk said to Spock between bites. The food was good- not just by the standards of Evan Wilson's tricorder- and the excited distractions merely added to the festive atmosphere of the outdoor meal. At first, it was a toss-up whether the tricorder or Uhura's gold hoop earrings were of most interest to the Sivaoans. At the moment, Wilson's tricorder was the favorite. The principal rubberneckers were Brightspot and a female called Settlesand to-Vensre, whose fur was dark brown shading to cream at chest and belly. They followed Evan Wilson about the camp, elbowing aside half a dozen other Sivaoans for the privilege of peering over Evan's shoulders as she demonstrated her instruments.
"It would seem, Mr. Spock, that your worries were unfounded- about Dr. Wilson's lack of experience in these matters," he added, when Spock raised a brow. "She's managing quite well."
The brow remained aloft. "I would almost say too well, Captain."
Spock at his stubborn best, thought Kirk. He grinned and said, "You can't have it both ways, Mr. Spock..."
He left it there, for Wilson and her rubberneckers had returned to the fireside. Brightspot delightedly insisted that Wilson check her readings, and Kirk's and Spock's.
"Captain," Wilson said, "would it be against regulations for Brightspot to use the tricorder herself?"
"Could I?" said Brightspot excitedly. "I'll be very careful with it. I'll promise in Old Tongue...!"
Kirk looked at Spock, who said, "It would be an interesting experiment, Captain. I should like to know if she understands the use of the tricorder."
Kirk said, "Go ahead, Doctor. We've got a lot of leeway on this mission." He smiled at Brightspot and added, "Just make sure she doesn't take it apart." Brightspot flicked her tail, and Kirk said instantly, "I didn't mean to insult you, Brightspot. I was only teasing." He reached for her hand. "I like you, and I have a bad habit of teasing people I like."
She wrapped her tail neatly around his extended hand; its tip came, tickling, into his palm. "It's okay," she said, "I'm not angry. You pull tails but you don't pull hard- just to get attention. I'll know that next time."
Evan Wilson draped the strap across Brightspot's shoulder and placed the tricorder in her hands. Gingerly, Brightspot aimed it first at Kirk, then at Spock. Her whiskers quivered with her concentration. Giving Kirk's wrist a little squeeze with her tail before loosing her hold, she moved off to take readings on the nearby undergrowth. Evan Wilson and the troop of rubberneckers were right beh
ind her.
"I thought she was a child," Kirk said to Spock. "Now I haven't any way of judging their ages."
"Age is not necessarily an indication of intelligence, Captain. We have no way of knowing what is average or expected in this culture. Lieutenant Uhura might be of assistance with her-specialized- knowledge, but we are still dealing with two thousand years of divergence."
On the far side of the cooking fire, Uhura was speaking to Distant Smoke. Kirk beckoned to her. As she rose to join them, Kirk noticed that Jinx, who had been sitting unobtrusively behind the two, also shifted position to follow Uhura. Unlike the others in the camp, Jinx seemed almost as if she dragged her tail behind her. The sight reminded Kirk of another question. "Spock, could they have developed prehensile tails in two thousand years?"
"Unlikely, Captain. That is an extremely short period on an evolutionary time scale. They might, however, have learned to exploit a prehensile tail in that period of time."
"Or Sunfall's people might have developed some taboo..."
"Not exactly a taboo, Captain," Uhura said. She crossed her ankles and sat on the ground near Kirk's small camp stool. "Sunfall considered using her tail"-she frowned slightly, searching for the proper term - "uncivilized. I only learned that her tail was prehensile by accident: I tripped going down a flight of stairs and she caught me with it. I was very surprised."
"I can imagine," said Kirk, remembering his own thoughts the first time Brightspot had wrapped her tail around his wrist.
Uhura went on, "- and Sunfall apologized, sir. For having been so vulgar as to use her tail." Uhura smiled suddenly. "It didn't take me long to find out the hard way that babies stick their tails in everything. They were constantly being scolded for it. Forgive me, Captain, but the only analogy I can think of is a small child picking its nose in public."
Kirk smiled back. "That obviously isn't the attitude here."
"Captain," said Spock, calling his attention to the return of Brightspot, Wilson, and the rest. Brightspot, triumphant, carried a tuft of dark, striated leaves. Drawing close, she suddenly stopped and her tail rose like a bar between them.
"Don't touch, Captain Kirk," she said. "You can touch, Mr. Spock- maybe that's the Vulcan part? But humans must not: sweetstripes will make their skin burn."
"She's right, Captain," said Wilson, as pleased as Brightspot, "and she did all the readings. Everybody take a good look, it could save you a lot of trouble later." Brightspot offered the branch to Spock, who accepted it with great interest to make some readings of his own.
Kirk bent to take a closer look and found Brightspot's cautioning tail still interposed between him and the specimen. Amused, he said, "Trust me not to pull it, Brightspot?"
She looked startled; then her ears peaked again and she said, "Oh- you just did!" Her parti-colored tail looped in amusement but she did not remove it from his reach.
When she was at last satisfied that she had alerted all the humans to the danger, Brightspot carefully disposed of the leaves. Then she was off again, to see what other wonders she could find with the tricorder. Evan Wilson smiled at Kirk and followed.
"Captain," said Uhura, keeping her voice low, "have you seen the...temple, sir?" She made a small gesture and he and Spock turned to look across the clearing.
Even with her quiet directions, it was a moment before he saw it. Hidden in the forest beyond the edge of the clearing, a low building laced through the ancient trees. It blended so beautifully with its surroundings that Kirk knew instantly the design of the architect had been not camouflage but harmony.
"Fascinating," said Spock. "It is clearly a permanent structure."
"Extremely fascinating," Kirk agreed. "Why would a people of such obvious sophistication choose to live in tents when they can build something as beautiful as that? Do you suppose we've stumbled on an outdoor festival of some sort, Mr. Spock?"
"That is an unlikely explanation, Captain. If you will recall, my orbital readings showed no indication of cities. I believe what we are seeing is characteristic of this culture."
"The tents are just as beautiful, Keptain," Chekov put in. "Hev you looked et them closely, sair? Each one is a work of art."
"Mr. Chekov is right, Captain. The tents show as much design sophistication as that structure." Spock indicated the low building.
Kirk shook his head in puzzlement. "You called it a temple, Uhura?"
"Only because I don't know what else to call it, sir," Uhura said.
As Kirk contemplated the structure, Winding Path emerged from within, accompanied by a female Sivaoan who was marked like a jester, half-orange, half-black. Deep in conversation, the two walked toward the clearing.
Distant Smoke rose, stepped to Uhura's side and said, "That's Stiff Tail to-Srallansre."
This was the Sivaoan to whom Winding Path had referred them. Kirk rose and gestured the rest of them up. Perhaps Stiff Tail was the leader in this community. "Heads up, people," he said. "Now maybe we can get some answers." He raised a hand to wave Wilson back, but Brightspot wrapped her tail around the doctor's wrist and tugged her straight to Stiff Tail to show her off.
Brightspot's tail still twined about her wrist, Evan Wilson displayed her claws to Stiff Tail. Stiff Tail returned the greeting and Brightspot, chattering excitedly, released her hold on Wilson to coil her tail about Stiff Tail's waist. Fetchstorm, Brightspot's nemesis, also joined them. Kirk could see the family resemblance. A little sibling rivalry there? he thought.
Stiff Tail was putting Evan Wilson once more through the poke-and-prod-and-tug routine when, without warning, Fetchstorm reached around Stiff Tail, grabbed the end of Brightspot's tail and yanked hard.
Hissing, Brightspot leapt free; her tail lashed furiously. With great care, she removed the tricorder from her shoulder and handed it to Evan Wilson, then- before Kirk even had time for exclamation- Brightspot sprang at Fetchstorm and knocked him to the ground.
Over and over they rolled, thrashing wildly. Stiff Tail drew Wilson out of the range of their flailing claws but, aside from that, she and the other Sivaoans stood calmly by and watched.
Kirk watched too, not nearly so calmly. He was getting a rapid education in just what Wilson had risked when she stepped into Distant Smoke's embrace. Although Fetchstorm and Brightspot ran through every other fighting position they knew, belly-to-belly was clearly the one they preferred. Foreclaws sunk into each other's back and teeth bared at each other's throat, they pounded each other in the belly with rapid-fire, pistonlike kicks- and Kirk could see that their hind claws were out and ripping. Fur flew.
Beside him, Spock said, "Their style of combat bears many similarities to that of Snnanagfashtalli." Uhura had her hand to her mouth.
As the fight rolled closer, there was a sudden squawk from one of the antagonists- it was impossible to guess from which. Stiff Tail moved so quickly Kirk almost missed it. Stepping into the middle of the fight, she said, "Enough!" and slapped them each soundly across the side of the head.
They stopped. For a long moment they both lay there blinking up at her, then they rose to their feet, tails still lashing angrily. They shook themselves off and, with one last glower, retired to opposite sides of Stiff Tail.
The next thing Kirk knew, Brightspot was once again telling the adult everything she knew about humans and Vulcans and tricorders and tails and head fur. It was as if nothing had happened. "Kids will be kids?" he ventured.
"I believe so, Captain," said Spock. "The attitude of the others would suggest little need for concern."
"Mr. Spock!" Uhura said, "Surely you can't think that was only two children fighting over a pulled tail!"
"I think 'spat' would be a good description, Lieutenant," Kirk said, laughing his relief, "and Mr. Spock's Vulcan childhood would seem equally violent to many of us."
"I'm gled I'm not a kid," said Chekov fervently, "here, or on Wulcan."
Brightspot was explaining the tricorder at great length and in remarkable detail, but she stopped in mid-sent
ence as the group reached Kirk and the others. "It is polite to make introductions," she announced and did so with all the formality of a diplomatic envoy. Diplomacy broke down only when she deliberately omitted her antagonist. He hissed at her; and Stiff Tail said, without fuss, "This is Fetchstorm to-Srallansre."
To Uhura, Stiff Tail said, "I seem to have missed all the excitement. And dinner. Will it offend your customs if I eat while you are not?"
Uhura shook her head. "No," said Kirk, "of course not."
"There is very little 'of course' when it comes to custom, Captain Kirk." Her whiskers seemed to quiver amusement, but she sat down and took up a bowl of stew that Distant Smoke offered.