Star Trek - TOS 021 - Uhura's Song

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by Uhura's Song


  Scotty turned to her and grinned happily. "Ensign, ye c'ld squeeze warp ten out o' this if ye put y'r mind t' it... and land her neatly as ye please on a planetary surface."

  She grinned back. "Then if you don't mind my saying so, if I had a skiff like this, I'd be tempted to desert Starfleet and turn space pirate... sir," she added pointedly. "Aye," he said, as pleased as if she had complimented him personally. "And if ye've a mind t' d' it, yell tell Evan Wilson that and gi' her the joy o' hearin' it said o' her Jamie."

  Leaving Ensign Orsay agape, he turned once more to the engine and said, "We'll have ye in shape in n' time, Jamie." He began a series of tests on the Bodner lines, and Orsay recovered enough to call readings to him.

  Three-quarters of an hour later, having stopped only once to shake his head with worry for the landing party, he got the flux reading Wilson had complained of. "Aye," he said, almost to himself, "that w'ld make ye tear y'r hair. Let's see what we c'n do for ye, lass."

  Brightspot and Jinx, with many interruptions and additions to each other's thoughts, spent some two hours cataloguing what they might expect from the forest. Kirk considered the time well spent- it might save their lives when trouble came, whether in the form of grabfoots or slashbacks.

  Now he stood overlooking the incline and presented the immediate problem. "We seem to have two choices: either we detour around the grabfoots or we find a way through them. Suggestions, Spock- anyone?"

  Jinx said, tail drooping, "There are too many of them, even for all of us. It would take two, maybe three, extra days to circle around them. And I don't know that area well- we could find worse things than grabfoots."

  "There aren't even enough trees to swing over them," Brightspot said, "and you can't swing very well anyway." She looked apologetic for having mentioned it. "Dr. Wilson," said Spock, "do the grabfoots find human flesh edible?"

  Wilson shuddered. "They seemed to think so- but I take it you mean something else."

  "Yes," said Spock. "We have all been in close proximity with Brightspot and Jinx and the others of their species. Perhaps you and the captain were attacked only because of the grabfoots' failure to distinguish between the Sivaoan scent and your own human scent."

  "An interesting theory," Kirk said, "but one I can't say I'm anxious to test."

  "Your reluctance is quite understandable, Captain," Spock said. "However, I had no intention of proposing such an experiment involving human life."

  "I hope you don't intend to try it yourself, Spock. The only thing that would tell us is how edible they find a Vulcan."

  "Hardly," said Spock, with some asperity. "I believe there to be a much less dangerous way to examine my theory. By your report, the four of you killed a great many more grabfoots than you carried back with you."

  "What of it, Mr. Spock?"

  "I see no dead grabfoots remaining in the area of the burrows. I would conclude that they scavenge their own dead as well as those other species on which they prey."

  "Then we could test with a grabfoot carcass!" Kirk said. "But that still doesn't tell us how they react to human scent unadulterated with Sivaoan."

  "That would be of no use to us unless we could somehow make Jinx and Brightspot 'smell human' as well. However, it is not human scent to which I allude. As Dr. Wilson has mentioned, and as Jinx and Brightspot have confirmed by their reaction, Sivaoans find the scent of alcohol objectionable in the extreme. Perhaps the grabfoots share their aversion."

  "You needed it for an antiseptic," Jinx said. "We didn't want to complain -"

  "But you still smell awful," Brightspot finished. "Maybe the grabfoots would hate it too."

  Wilson pulled out the bottle of Jubalan rum and handed it to Spock. "Sparingly, if you please, Mr. Spock. This is only the first day of our journey."

  "Understood." Taking the bottle and a grabfoot carcass that Brightspot hastily untied from her booty, Spock proceeded with his experiment. He used only a few drops of Jubalan rum, but Jinx no longer attempted to conceal her distaste. "That's probably enough, Mr. Spock," she said, wrinkling her nose and twitching her tail. "I wouldn't eat it now."

  "Then let us hope the grabfoots share your dislike," Spock told her. He started to pick his way down the hill.

  "Just a moment," said Kirk firmly. "Jinx and Brightspot and I will accompany you. We will go only far enough to throw the carcass down to the grabfoot colony. Agreed?"

  "Captain? I assure you I had no intention of approaching the burrows."

  "That hill's slippery, Spock. You're not going without backup."

  Jinx and Brightspot bristled briefly but made no opposition to the plan, and the four of them started down the hill. In a short while, Jinx said, "Stop here," and they all did.

  Kirk pointed out the area of the grabfoot colony, and Spock threw the gaudy carcass to the point at which they'd first been attacked. Once again, leaves exploded outward. Jinx made a low moan in the back of her throat, and even Kirk could not repress a shudder.

  A dozen grabfoots converged on the carcass- and stopped. Several of them hissed and jumped back. They milled around, intermittently hissing first approaching, then jumping back. It was clear that they liked the smell even less than Brightspot and Jinx did.

  At last one of the grabfoots gathered its nerve and attacked the carcass, sinking its sharp teeth deep into the body. Seeing it from this distance, with time to consider it, Kirk was nauseated by the creature.

  It let go as suddenly as it had attacked, sat back on its haunches and howled, a chilling sound. Its fellows liked this even less than Kirk and the rest of the party did- they all promptly vanished underground, hastily pulling leaves over their burrows to hide. The remaining grabfoot continued to howl for a moment, then punctuated its distress with two sharp hisses, and it too vanished into its burrow.

  "Mr. Spock," said Kirk with relief, "I believe your experiment is a complete success."

  "It would seem so."

  They rejoined the rest of the party at the top of the hill. Kirk said, "From the results of Mr. Spock's experiment, Doctor, I would say that you and I were already grabfoot-proof- but I should like to be very sure."

  She nodded. "Ankles, wrists, throat and around the eyes then, for safety. Brightspot, Jinx, I hope you can stand this because it's got to be done. The captain isn't the only one who wants to be very sure." The two Sivaoans, with much bristling and twitching and wrinkling of noses, managed to hold still through Wilson's ministrations. She saw to Uhura and Chekov, then handed the bottle of rum back to Spock. "You'll have to do your own honors,

  Mr. Spock."

  "I fail to see the 'honors' inherent in such a procedure, Dr. Wilson," said Spock as he followed her instructions.

  "So do Brightspot and Jinx, Mr. Spock," Wilson told him, smiling. She looked at Kirk. "Ready as we'll ever be, Captain." The rest of the party nodded assent, and Kirk motioned them forward.

  "Stay alert, people," he added. "There may be one or two determined enough to want to taste despite the smell."

  They worked their way down the hill, choosing the gentlest of the slopes to follow. The nearer they approached to the burrow area, the more ruffled Jinx and Brightspot became- but the two youngsters stayed carefully with their human companions, now and then offering a hand or tail as the terrain warranted.

  The grabfoot carcass still lay where Spock had thrown it. "Good sign," said Kirk. "They certainly haven't overcome their aversion to the smell yet." From a few feet away, Wilson grunted an affirmative response, but Kirk got a glimpse of her face: all the color was gone from her cheeks.

  Chekov slipped. Kirk and Brightspot hastily scrambled forward to catch and lift him to his feet. As they did, the grabfoots attacked. "Bozhe moi," said Chekov, not yet steadied. Kirk swung his spear, and Brightspot too struck out at the nearest- but both grabfoots jumped back, hissing angrily. "I guess it works, sair," said Chekov shakily. The animals hissed and approached again and once again jumped back at the smell. "I guess it does, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, not
taking his wary eyes from the miniature dinosaurs. He called to the others, "Keep moving, people. Let's not give them the time to change their minds."

  He and Chekov and Brightspot pushed forward, surrounded by more and more of the creatures as they continued. Still none worked up the nerve to sink its teeth. "Evan said Jubalan rum would kill anything," he said to Chekov and was rewarded by a grim smile.

  Brightspot speared one that had gotten too close for her comfort. Uhura closed in toward the party.

  "Dr. Wilson." The voice was Spock's, from somewhere behind them; there was a sharpness in it that made Kirk turn. Spock was well above him on the slope- and some twenty yards farther up stood Wilson and Jinx, surrounded by two dozen or more hissing grabfoots. Jinx was urging Wilson forward but the doctor did not move.

  "Keep going," Kirk snapped to Uhura, Chekov and Brightspot; then, slapping aside a grabfoot that came within inches of his boot, he started up the incline toward Wilson.

  He managed only a few steps when he saw Spock slip and land full length on the ground. The grabfoots instantly converged on him. "Spock!" Kirk scrambled upward, his feet slipping wildly on loose stone and other debris, desperate to reach Spock before the grabfoots did.

  Wilson gave a sharp exclamation, brought her staff down hard on the head of the closest grabfoot and skidded down the slope toward him, Jinx hard on her heels. Together they batted and speared their way through the grabfoots that surrounded Spock and, while Jinx kept the remainder at bay with her spear, Wilson braced her staff for Spock to rise on.

  Kirk neared them just as Spock regained his feet.

  The Vulcan, a few feet farther down the slope and hence eye-to-eye with Wilson, said without expression, "Your hesitation, Dr. Wilson, endangered Jinx."

  Wilson glanced sharply at the Sivaoan, then back at Spock. In a hoarse voice, she said, "Thank you, Mr. Spock." Immediately, she began to make her way down the hill; Spock and Jinx positioned themselves on either side of her.

  Without a word, Kirk fell in with the party. Wilson was still dead-white but, as he held out a hand to help her over a crest of rocks, she said, "Never underestimate small things, Captain, they have to be meaner than large ones to survive."

  She meant the grabfoots, he knew, but he said, "Even the fiercest small thing has its limits, Dr. Wilson."

  Chapter Fourteen

  They made their first night's camp some two ridges short of their intended goal. Although the incident with the grabfoots had delayed them, Kirk felt it best to accept the fact rather than risk traveling in such unfamiliar territory after dark. They saw to the business of fire and shelter, Jinx and Brightspot opting to remain on the ground with their human companions, and then settled down to eat. Roast grabfoot was, as Jinx had promised, a very good evening meal. His announcement that he, at least, would "eat with a vengeance" drew a wan smile, but no comment, from Wilson. She had said scarcely a word since the incident on the slope; her silence disturbed him.

  The empty spaces in their dinner conversation were filled with Brightspot's grumblings over the lingering smell of the alcohol. "Unless you want to lick it off, Brightspot," Kirk said- and she shuddered and stuck out her tongue- "you'll have to put up with it until tomorrow. You can wash when we reach the river." That idea was clearly worse but did nothing to halt her complaints; she was still muttering translator-rejected words as she crawled into her tent for the night.

  "Wake me for watch," said Wilson curtly and crawled in after her. Uhura sang softly for a while, then she too settled for the night; the others followed until only Spock remained.

  "Captain," he said quietly, "with your permission I will stand Dr. Wilson's watch as well as my own this evening;"

  "She won't thank you for it, Spock."

  "That is perhaps true. However, I should prefer it. I am concerned the incident with the grabfoots may have done her some hidden injury, and it has been my observation that an uninterrupted sleep often has a salutary effect on the human spirit."

  Kirk smiled. "I've noticed that myself. As you wish, then."

  "Thank you, Captain." Spock retired to the second tent, hands clasped behind his head, his spear to one side- well within reach.

  Standing in the entrance, Kirk leaned on his own spear and said, "Tell me, Mr. Spock, for curiosity's sake: was it my imagination or did you use a somewhat emotional appeal to get Dr. Wilson moving again?"

  Spock propped himself up with one hand. "Emotional appeal? Hardly, Captain. One might better say 'tactical'- while Dr. Wilson was not able to force herself through the grabfoots for her own safety, she would not hesitate to do so to assist another."

  "I see: a highly logical approach to the matter."

  "So I had intended."

  "Sleep well, Mr. Spock," Kirk said and, smiling to himself, left Spock to his rest. He had not really expected to catch Spock out- he knew from long experience that Spock could invariably produce a logical explanation for any seeming emotional outburst on his part. One human trait the Vulcan did not lack was the ability to rationalize his own behavior. He wondered if Spock would find it so easy to rationalize his decision to stand an extra watch for Evan Wilson.

  When Spock woke him, the sky was still gray and overcast. A steady drizzle made the camp fire burn fitfully. The usefuls, Kirk was glad to learn, shed water without absorbing a drop; he threw one over his head and shoulders and ventured from the tent. "Just what we needed," he said.

  Spock raised a startled eyebrow at him. "Sir?"

  "Irony, Mr. Spock," Kirk explained. "I'll wake the others; you see if you and Lieutenant Uhura can find some dry wood to build up that fire. We've a lot of lost time to catch up today and I want us off to a good start." He strolled over to yank the tail that protruded from Brightspot's tent. "Up, up!"

  There was a flurry of motion within, and Brightspot faced him, eyes wide and teeth bared. She blinked once and said, "Oh...oh, that's right." And, glancing over her shoulder, "It's only the captain, Evan, you can put your knife away." To Kirk, she confided, "Evan wakes up mean!" She seemed to think this an admirable trait.

  Under the circumstances, Kirk agreed, adding, "You didn't look terribly sweet yourself. I forget how sharp your teeth are."

  Her huge yawn gave him a more than adequate reminder. "You forget a lot," she said, as she stretched herself awake.

  "Now you're pulling my tail," he told her.

  Evan crawled from the shelter, glanced up at the sky and said, "Oh, hell." She drew her cowl over her hair, then narrowed her eyes at Kirk. "And just who decided I needn't stand watch last night?"

  "Spock." Jim Kirk was glad she'd phrased the question as she had: it gave him the opportunity to deny all responsibility in one word. She was fully as angry as he'd expected her to be.

  Brightspot said, "I didn't stand watch, either."

  "You'll get a chance tonight, Brightspot," Kirk said. "Not everyone was needed."

  "But I'm willing to bet Mr. Spock stood a double watch," Evan growled. He wondered how she had known but nodded confirmation. She scowled, glared about the campsite and, zeroing in on the returning Spock, stalked toward him.

  Brightspot made a hissing sound. "Evan's really angry," she said. "Is she allowed to cuff Mr. Spock?"

  "Technically, no," said Kirk, but from the way Wilson advanced on Spock, he was not sure that would stop her.

  Spock knelt, stirring the fire back to flame. Evan Wilson planted herself beside him, hands balled into fists and jammed to her hips. "Mr. Spock," she said; her tone was anything but kind.

  Spock finished his task, then he rose to his feet. As if completely unaware of her anger, he said, "Yes, Dr. Wilson?"

  Had Spock been anyone else, Kirk would have been moved to intervene on Evan's behalf. Standing, the Vulcan was almost twice her size. The discrepancy in their heights, which would have led humans his own size to reconsider the wisdom of such a confrontation, made no impression on Wilson. It meant only that she glared up at him. "Mr. Spock," she said, "why the hell didn't you wake
me to stand watch?"

  "It was unnecessary, Doctor."

  "I suppose it was necessary for you to stand a double watch?"

  "Necessary? No, it was not. Had I felt the need for additional rest I would have awakened Brightspot or Mr. Chekov- not you, Dr. Wilson. You had more need of sleep than the others. I am quite pleased to see you have recovered your spirits." From anyone else that might have been mockery; from Spock it was merely an observation, and Kirk knew from experience just how infuriating Spock's observations could be. Evan Wilson raised a small fist. Kirk winced in anticipation and started forward to rescue his first officer. Evan Wilson's burst of laughter stopped him in his tracks. "Damn you, sir!" she said, to Spock's and his own complete amazement. Her hands dropped to her sides and she threw back her head to laugh again.

  "I beg your pardon, Doctor," said Spock.

 

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