Star Trek - TOS 021 - Uhura's Song

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by Uhura's Song


  "A wrong guess c'd get y'r feet verra wet," Scotty said, "Can ye swim, Rushlight?"

  "Not in that," came the reply. If the waters had taken down the bridge, Scotty could very well see his point; he abandoned the thought of getting coordinates from the Sivaoan.

  "I guess I'd better start for Sretalles," Rushlight said.

  "Hold on a minute, laddie. Wld y'r people object if I joined ye, just for a moment, t' have a look for masel'?"

  "No, of course not- as long as you don't interfere with the Walk."

  "Then wait right where ye are, lad. I'm on ma way...." Scott was halfway across the bridge as he spoke. "Mr. Sulu, ye have command," he shot over his shoulder.

  "Aye, sir. Shall I send security to meet you in the transporter room?"

  Scott paused briefly. "I'll not be stayin' long enough t' need them, Mr. Sulu. Th' fewer th' tails we stick in, the better, is ma thought on the matter."

  Sulu looked very startled but said, "Aye, sir."

  Minutes later, Scott stood on the transporter platform. As a precaution, he set his phaser on stun, then said to Ensign Orsay, "En'rgize."

  There was a brief moment of disorientation, then he found himself on the brink of a torrent- tons of water raged by, sweeping with it flood debris at dizzying speed. He took an involuntary step backward, turned and found himself face-to-face with the largest, meanest cat he'd ever seen.

  He raised his phaser, and the creature countered, raising something that might well have been a weapon. Just in time, Scotty thought of Quickfoot. He said cautiously, "Rushlight? Is that ye, lad? I canna believe ye'd raise a weapon again' a man with a brogue, now."

  "Scotty?" The creature was equally hesitant, but its voice was unmistakably Rushlight's. The tail reached forward, wrapped around Scotty's wrist. Scotty decided it must be the Sivaoan equivalent of a handshake and grasped the tip and squeezed it firmly.

  "Aye, lad," he said. "None other." He laughed. "We probably scared each other out o' two years' growth. Here I was, thinkin' ye were a Scotsman like masel', in ma mind's eve."

  "You came from nowhere!"

  "I told ye it was a neat little device."

  "That you did," said Rushlight and eyed him. "Scotty, I should have known you would look like the rest of your people, but except for the music in your speech you talk like a to-Vensre, and I'd pictured you the same way." His tail released Scott's arm but sprang into a spiral. Scotty grinned. "If those're to-Vensre whiskers ye're wearin', Rushlight, I wouldna mind a bit bein' thought o' that way."

  Rushlight said, "Your Dr. Wilson envies our tails. I'm glad you appreciate fine whiskers when you see them." His long pink tongue flicked out to lick the whiskers with great pride, startling Scotty all over again.

  Laughing at the way his own mind tricked him, Scotty clapped Rushlight on the shoulder and said, "We'll get along just fine. D'ye think ye're ready to try the trick y'rsel'?" He pointed across the river.

  Again the tail caught his arm. "Wait, Scotty. Do you have a weapon?"

  "Aye, an' I'm ashamed t' admit it- ye so startled me I raised it again' ye." He added hastily, "Wouldna ha' killed ye, lad, if that's what ye're thinkin! Would ha' put ye t' sleep for a wee bit o' time, is all."

  "That's not why I asked. I smell slashbacks." He pointed across the river. "Over there. They're big and they're dangerous and if you can really get us across safely we had better be prepared for them."

  Scotty unholstered his phaser once more. "Ye're the expert... whatever ye say." With his other hand, he flipped open his communicator and read the two sets of coordinates to Ensign Orsay. Then to the Sivaoan he said, "Are ye ready, lad?"

  Rushlight bristled a bit around the edges but replied, "Waiting won't make it easier. Let's go."

  ...They were standing on the opposite shore. Rushlight looked down at himself, caught his own tail as if to make certain it had arrived safely, licked his shoulder and said, "Well, that's something to sing about!"

  Scotty chuckled delightedly. "If yell do me the kindness o' tellin' Dr. McCoy that, should ye meet him, I'd be grateful t' ye. He carries on so about usin' the transporter, ye'd think it had scrambled his mother."

  Rushlight nodded. "Should I meet him," he agreed.

  Then, sniffing the air suspiciously, Rushlight surveyed the edge of the river. Scott, following suit, caught sight of something too straight to be flotsam and yanked it from a tangle of reeds- a spear. He held it out to Rushlight. "Is it them? Can ye recognize it?"

  "It could only be your children. No one had ever seen a stone point before Mr. Chekov made them." Rushlight took it from Scott to examine, then gripped the spear, spun and raised it. "Slashback!"

  Scotty whirled and brought up his phaser in the same motion- just as something huge burst from the undergrowth. As the animal sprang at Rushlight, Scotty fired.

  His first horrified thought was that he had missed- the slash-back's trajectory carried it directly at Rushlight, who rammed home the spear with all his force. The impact knocked him to the ground but, to Scotty's great relief, the creature was still. Scotty rolled it off Rushlight and pulled the Sivaoan to his feet. "Are ye all ri', laddie?"

  "Fine, Scotty, thanks." He poked at the limp slashback and, for the first time, Scotty got a good look at the teeth and claws of the creature. They were considerably more formidable than Rushlight's. "Male," said Rushlight, "separated from its female for some time now, or it wouldn't have been desperate enough to attack on its own. What did you do to it, Scotty- is it dead?"

  "If it's dead, it was y'r spear in the throat that did the trick. C'ld be it's only stunned."

  Rushlight knelt. Grabbing the slashback by the ear, he jerked back its head to examine its throat, then he rose and pulled the spear from the wound. "If it's not dead now, it'll be dead in a minute. I got it in the jugular vein." He turned his back on the carcass as if it were an everyday occurrence to be attacked by a sabertooth. Perhaps it is, thought Scotty, and didn't like what that implied about the landing party's chances of survival, especially without their phasers.

  Rushlight lifted the spear, this time to smell the shaft. "Captain Kirk's spear," he said.

  "I'll take y'r word for that, lad, but why w'ld he leave his spear? I dinna like it."

  While Scotty looked for other signs of the party, Rushlight also nosed around. "Jinx has been here, but I don't smell Brightspot. I don't like it either, Scotty. I can't tell about your people, except for the captain"- he held up the spear- "because they all wear boots. They don't leave scent the way we do."

  Scotty took in the remnants of the bridge, then the forest itself. He pointed to the right. "Something big crashed through there," he said. He led Rushlight to the spot. In the mud between the broken plants, he saw a single footprint that might have been Uhura's. Rushlight sniffed the broken plants. "Mr. Chekov," he said, "Mr. Spock, Jinx, Lieutenant Uhura. Fear from Jinx. I don't recognize your people's emotions as well but Jinx was horribly afraid." He stood and stared at Scotty with terrible eyes. "They ran along the river-"

  "Aye," said Scotty, "chasin' someone who had fallen in when the bridge went." And the captain dropped his spear to go in after.

  Rushlight's tail gripped his wrist, reassuring in its curious way. "I'll follow their trail, Scotty. I'll let you know the moment I find anything more."

  Scotty cocked his head, gauging his worry against the captain's wrath. The worry won: "W'ld ye mind a wee bit o' company- if it's legal, that is?"

  "I don't mind," said Rushlight, "and even Stiff Tail would be grateful for your sharp eyes."

  Scotty opened his communicator: "Scott here."

  "Sulu here, Mr. Scott. Is everything all right?"

  "I canna tell ye just yet, Mr. Sulu. I'm puttin' ye in charge while Rushlight an' I take a look."

  "Is that wise, sir?" Sulu clearly did not think so.

  "The captain'll not be pleased, but the captain'll not know for a while yet. I'll keep in touch, Mr. Sulu. Scott out."

  Brightspot sneezed delicately
, several times in succession. Evan Wilson said, "I hope head colds aren't dangerous to you, Brightspot."

  "It won't kill me, if that's what you mean, Evan. I'll just wish it would." Aside from the cold, Brightspot seemed considerably better, in spirit and in body. And they had found the trail that led to Sretalles. That laid to rest two of his worries. As for the third: once again, Jim Kirk hailed Spock and got no answer. The roar of another waterfall close by might account for the lack of response- he hoped so, anyway.

  Brightspot sniffed and sneezed again. "I'm sorry," she said, "I can't tell if they've been here."

  She looked so apologetic that Kirk said, "Don't worry about it- neither can I. The best we can do is make for Sretalles and hope they catch us or we catch them."

  "In case they're behind us," said Evan, "let's leave a note." She drew her knife, adding, "I apologize for defacing the local forest, Brightspot, but it's the best way I know to show them we've been here." Choosing a birchlike tree almost directly on the trail, she slashed a symbol and an arrow pointing to Sretalles in its bark.

  "Press your hand on it," said Brightspot, "you too, Captain. Jinx can smell we've been here."

  They did. Evan stood back to inspect her work, then returned to carve a 3 as well. "Jinx may be able to smell us, but Mr. Spock can't. That's to reassure the numb-noses. Don't laugh, Brightspot, you're the numbest nose of all." Brightspot sneezed again, but her tail stayed looped.

  In the morning, Spock was relieved to find that Jinx had come to terms with her pledge. She behaved no differently than she had on previous days. Chekov remained her major concern, as he was Spock's.

  Uhura, soothing Chekov during one of his semi-conscious periods in a very human manner, stroked his head- only to find, to her horror, that his hair fell away at her gentle touch. To her credit, she controlled herself so well that Chekov remained unaware of the condition. When Jinx examined his arms, she found the first lesions.

  She motioned Spock out of Chekov's earshot and said, "He can't walk."

  "Then I will carry him."

  "No," said Jinx, "It would be better to build a travois, that way whoever pulls him will have her hands free to defend herself."

  "Do you smell more slashbacks?"

  "No, but that doesn't mean there aren't any more. They're not usually on this side of the river at all...."

  "A travois then," Spock agreed. The two of them cut saplings and stretched a useful over them and tied Chekov, who was once again unconscious, into it. Spock put the sash around his chest and lifted the end of the travois. He was surprised to find how little effort it required to drag behind him. Jinx was right, and she or Uhura would be able to manage Chekov in this manner, while only someone with his strength could have carried Chekov to Sretalles.

  They started for the trail, Jinx leading, Uhura bringing up the rear. At times, it took all three of them to lift the travois and Chekov over or around some obstacle but, once they reached the trail, it became quite easily manageable.

  They walked for some time, and the roar of a waterfall once again deafened them. This time, Spock did not check his breathing rate- the combined pressure of the sash across his chest and the amount of water vapor in the air made even normal breathing difficult.

  There was no sign of Jim Kirk, Evan Wilson or Brightspot. The waterfall was a constant reminder to Spock of their possible fate.

  Jinx halted and shouted above the noise of rushing water, "My turn!" Spock helped Jinx into the travois harness and took her place in the lead. As they started down the trail again, he realized that the pressure across his chest had not diminished. He attempted to slow his breathing to prevent more water vapor from entering his lungs but found he was now unable to do so. He knew then he was in danger- but there was nothing to be done. He said nothing and walked on...

  The party rounded a bend. On the lookout for slashbacks and like menaces, Spock almost missed it- but the stylized Vulcan IDIC leapt out at him. He stopped and pointed. "There, Jinx," he said. It was she who needed the reassurance most.

  Uhura gave a little crow of triumph. "They're alive! All of them!" She pushed forward to touch her hands to the scarred tree trunk, as if she would believe her fingers even when her eyes lied.

  Spock lifted the sash from Jinx's shoulders, and she put her nose to the trunk of the tree. Her tail looped up in happiness. "All three!" she shouted, "All three!"

  She knelt to rouse Chekov- she seemed to feel it important that he know as well- but to no avail. Her tail straightened. Without another word, she stepped back and lifted the travois. "Let's move." she shouted. "They're not far ahead of us- the smell can't be more than an hour old." They quickened their pace.

  The noise of the falls was beginning to subside. Jim Kirk was sure his ears would take an hour to recover from the assault, until he heard a noise on the trail behind him. Brightspot spun around and unsheathed her claws. "Slashbacks?" he asked, bringing up his spear.

  "Can't smell; can't tell," said Brightspot, then sharply, "Listen!"

  The three did, tensing for whatever followed them.

  Brightspot suddenly relaxed and, curling her tail with delight, said, "It's Lieutenant Uhura!" A moment later, he heard Uhura's shout too.

  He shouted back, "We're here, Uhura! We're coming!" and the three of them raced back the way they had come.

  He did not stop until he was face-to-face with Spock. "Spock," he said, "you're a sight for sore eyes!"

  "I fail to understand, Captain, what bearing my presence could possibly have on the condition of your vision...but I am pleased to see you."

  Kirk laughed with relief. Spock, at least, was his usual imperturbable self...

  Chekov was not. The ensign lay on the ground on a stretcher-like affair; Wilson knelt beside him, fingers on his wrist, her face grave. Chekov's appearance was shocking- huge patches of hair gone, lesions on his face and hands- even Kirk knew ADF syndrome at this late stage. Not wishing to agitate Chekov, Kirk gave no sign he was disturbed. "Well, Mr. Chekov," he said.

  "Keptain," said Chekov weakly, "I'm gled to see you, sair. Is Brightspot all right?"

  "Aside from the worst cold you've ever seen, she's fine. How are you?"

  "Not good, Keptain, but I hev meneged to get a free ride."

  The joke was feeble, but Kirk smiled and said, "I see you haven't lost your power over females- of either species." Chekov gave him a wan smile in return, then he said, "Sair?" Kirk had to bend close to hear his words. "If Ketchclaw ken't...I wanted to say, sair... it's been en honor working with you, sair."

  Kirk laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll have none of that, mister. I intend to have your expert services for a long time- and your friendship, as well." But Chekov did not hear him; Chekov was unconscious.

  "How often?" Wilson asked sharply, looking up at Jinx.

  "More often unconscious than conscious now," said Jinx. "If that's AyDeeEff, Evan, I don't recognize it. Catchclaw went to Sretalles to find a rememberer, someone who collects old information no one is interested in anymore. She hoped maybe one of them would know something. That's why we didn't come looking for you; we had to get Mr. Chekov to Sretalles as fast as we could."

  "Right," said Evan Wilson. "Let's go then."

  Jim Kirk traded Brightspot's pack for the travois. They could no longer husband their strength. They hastened down the trail as if pursued by demons.

  They took no stops to rest that day and only slowed to forage for fruits and berries to keep them going. Chekov had two more conscious periods. Wilson followed behind his travois at a brisk trot and kept up a reassuring line of patter. Jim Kirk hoped Chekov believed her; Jim Kirk didn't.

  Spock paced him and said, "Captain, we must make camp for the night. We cannot traverse terrain of this nature without light."

  "I know, Spock, but let's get as far as we can and worry about putting up shelters after dark." Spock nodded agreement, coughed slightly and suppressed a second cough.

  Catching Brightspot's cold, Kirk thought and k
new it would not slow the Vulcan any more than it did Brightspot. He glanced at the others and considered his own condition. They would all need rest soon. He hoped Chekov could last another half day of travel. He hoped Catchclaw would be able to help.

  Night fell and forced the party to a halt. He and Spock built up a fire, while Wilson and the Sivaoans raised a shelter. Uhura sat with Chekov's head in her lap. She stroked his forehead and sang softly, as much to ease her own pain as his.

  Brightspot roasted strips of slashback meat over the fire and they ate wearily.

  Chekov could not be roused. Once again, Evan Wilson examined the lesions on his arms, then she dropped heavily to her knees beside Kirk. Exhaustion, he thought, seeing her taut face in the firelight. "Get some sleep, Evan. Mr. Spock and I will take the first watch."

 

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