by Uhura's Song
Assumption: the technological capabilities and range of the ship that brought them- based on the earliest known space drive of the Eeiauoans, tentatively confirmed by Chief Engineer Scott. That also assumed that the Eeiauoans had made only minor improvements on the drive, had not lost the technology altogether and invented something new.
Assumption: the length of the journey- again drawn from song, not from fact.
Assumption: that this world had been the Eeiauoans' original destination, not their third or fourth try for an inhabitable world.
Assumption after assumption after assumption. The only hard facts were that Eeiauoan after Eeiauoan curled up to die- kept alive only by elaborate medical intervention - and that the Long Death now spread through human worlds.
Uhura realized she had listened to an entire song without hearing it. Angrily, she stopped the tape and rewound it. Without thinking, she yanked the earplug from her ear, buried her face in her hands and said, "Oh, damn."
Spock turned from his computers. Uhura hastily composed herself, made her thoughts and face a blank. "I apologize, Mr. Spock. It will not happen again."
"Computer, hold," he said. The machine cut off in midsqueak, freezing an image on the screen. Giving Uhura his full attention, Spock said, "The apology is unnecessary, Lieutenant. I assure you I am quite accustomed to the display of emotion from members of this crew. I could hardly be otherwise, given the circumstances under which I work and live."
"Yes, I know." Impulsively, she added, "And no one ever thinks to protect your feelings."
One of his eyebrows arched up. "Dr. McCoy would tell you I have none."
Uhura gave a delicate snort. "That's nonsense, Mr. Spock. Everyone has feelings. Not everyone chooses to express them quite as loudly as Dr. McCoy."
"Am I to understand that you have been behaving in this unusual- I might even say 'abnormal'- fashion to protect my...feelings?" he asked. His slight emphasis made the word hers rather than any admission on his part.
Uhura felt her cheeks warm, as if she were a small child who'd been caught at something, yet she wanted him to understand. "After all these years of working with you, sir, and listening to everyone else who did, it seems to me that we all demand that you be more and more human. But you're not human, Mr. Spock, any more than Sunfall is. You're unique. If I sometimes find your behavior shocking, I've come to realize that even the shock can be valuable. You make us stop and reconsider and sometimes take a fresh view of things.
"You're the only one aboard the Enterprise who hasn't spent the past weeks worrying himself into complete uselessness. I felt I would be more useful to Sunfall- and to you as we worked together- if I could approach the problem from your perspective."
She raised a finely drawn brow in deliberate imitation of him. "At the very least," she finished, "I had hoped not to disturb your concentration with any emotional display. That's why I've been behaving 'abnormally,' Mr. Spock. I hope I have not offended you."
"By no means," he said. "I am honored by your attempt." He considered her thoughtfully, then he added, "But I must point out the flaw in your reasoning. Given our present task, your emotional response could be of considerable value."
"Mr. Spock?" She could not hide her astonishment.
"We have no reliable data. With each assumption we make we lower the probability of an accurate result. I have often noticed in humans the ability to extrapolate accurately from just such data. Captain Kirk has frequently demonstrated the validity of this approach."
"Do you mean hunches?"
"Precisely, Lieutenant Uhura." He gave her a piercing look.
"In that case, I'll do my best, sir."
He continued to consider her. Suddenly embarrassed, Uhura said, "Is that all, sir?" She meant to return to her tapes; she found herself at a loss for words under his open scrutiny.
"No, Lieutenant," he said at last. "That is not all. You, too, are unique. And, quite illogically, I find I prefer the unique Uhura to the counterfeit Vulcan. May we agree each to behave as our uniqueness dictates?"
Uhura found herself blinking back stinging tears. "Oh, yes, of course we may!" She stretched out her hand, wishing she could touch him. "And thank you, Mr. Spock. That's the nicest compliment I've ever been paid."
His look was totally uncomprehending, and she did not know whether to laugh or to cry her exasperation. At last, she did neither-she moved her outstretched hand to point at the Frozen image on the computer screen. With effort, she said, "What is that, Mr. Spock?"
To her relief, he turned. "That is a computer simulation of the night sky of Eeiauo in the era in which we believe the Eeiauoans arrived on this world," he said.
Black stars against a white sky...Curious, Uhura stepped to his side to look more closely. So many stars! To find just one out of so many stars! "Is that what they'd have seen?" She shook her head at the impossibility of the task.
"No, this is the view without atmospheric interference." Spock gave a command to the computer and a large number of stars vanished. He said, "Given atmospheric interference and the average visual acuity of the Eeiauoan, this is what the first colonists would have seen, had they landed in the northern hemisphere." At her questioning look, he added, "From the pattern of their city development, a northern hemisphere landing would seem indicated."
She nodded and looked again at the screen. Too many stars remained.
At his second command, the stars moved, slowly wheeling past the screen. "You are seeing the seasonal changes in star position."
Something caught her attention. She tried to bring it into conscious focus but could not. "Mr. Spock, could you reverse the colors? I can't-see it properly."
If he thought the request illogical, he made no comment. At his touch on the console, the stars went white against a black field. They continued to wheel across the "horizon" but one formation stayed always in the sky. It resembled an open eye, its iris the edge-on view of a nebula that gave it the Eeiauoan catlike slit.
"This," she said, and touched the screen.
"The gaseous remnants of a supernova that took place within a few hundred years of the time of the Eeiauoans' arrival here. The computer extrapolates from the archeoastronomy of several nearby civilizations and from the faint indications that still linger."
Uhura gripped the edge of the console. "They watch us still, and disapprove," she quoted softly. "A refrain from one of the earliest ballads, as nearly as I can translate it.... I have that hunch for you, Mr. Spock."
"Indeed?"
She nodded. "The Eeiauoan homeworld has to be somewhere in that constellation."
"That would be consistent with my calculations. However, that is still a great deal of area to cover. Let us attempt to refine your hunch."
Jim Kirk watched the main screen from the bridge of the Enterprise as the Federation medship Dr. Margaret Flinn and her escort of four destroyers assumed orbit around Eeiauo. The destroyers told him just how serious Starfleet considered the situation.
As if a destroyer could stop the Long Death! He thumped his knuckles impatiently against the cold metal arm of the command chair, ignoring the concerned glance Lieutenant Vuong shot in his direction from nav. What the Eeiauoans need most from us is the one thing we can't give them- speed! I can no more hurry Spock and Uhura than Bones can command a breakthrough.
From the communications console, Ensign Azuela cut through his angry thoughts. "Captain? Captain's regards from the Flinn, sir, and Chief Medical Officer Mickiewicz requests that we make ready to have those personnel who may have been exposed to ADF beamed aboard without delay."
He must have scowled, for Azuela added, "Orders from Starfleet, sir."
"Acknowledge," he said, curtly. "Request coordinates and relay them to the quarantine transporter room. Inform Dr. McCoy- and Dr. Wilson." He rose abruptly. "Lieutenant Vuong, you have the conn; I'll be in sick bay if anybody needs me." He doubted anybody would and that did little to improve his mood.
By the time he reached sick ba
y, he had fine-tuned his resentment from Starfleet Command in general to Dr. Evan Wilson in particular for the implied slur against the Enterprise's medical facilities and personnel.
The door to Bones's office was open. Of course, he told himself, the senior medical officer would use Bones's office in his absence- but it made Wilson's presence seem that much more of an intrusion.
Time to do some intruding of my own, he thought with some satisfaction, but the sound of an angry voice stopped him on the threshold.
Her back to Kirk, Dr. Evan Wilson bent ominously over her communication screen, McCoy's image before her. "The Enterprise has the best quarantine facilities I've seen anywhere," she said sharply, "and Starfleet Command has the unmitigated gall to ask us to transfer her crew to some other ship, state of facilities unknown? Dammit, Leonard, there's no excuse for it!"
She takes it personally, too, Kirk thought with some surprise. He liked her for that. Still.
McCoy said it for him: "That's the pot callin' the kettle black, Evan."
She cocked her head to one side, clearly puzzled, for McCoy elucidated, "Starfleet sent you, madam, in case you'd forgotten." He said it without the acidity he customarily reserved for Starfleet orders not to his liking, and Kirk realized that McCoy did not object to Wilson nearly as much as he.
Wilson seemed to scrutinize the image. After a moment, she gave a merry laugh and leaned back, shaking her head. "Don't 'madam' me, Leonard. And don't take offense at me - I cut my own orders for the Enterprise. I expected to be working with you, not filling in!"
"Ask for a second opinion and get an invasion," McCoy said.
She laughed again and leaned forward, this time with an air of conspiracy. "I leave it to you. I can stay where I am, or I can shift the invasion to give you a hand planetside."
"You've been exposed to ADF?"
"No, but Starfleet doesn't know that." Her voice was light, almost mischievous, but from Bones's expression Jim Kirk knew her offer was genuine. He also knew he was not about to find out how easily his senior officer could be subverted.
"You'll do nothing of the sort, Dr. Wilson," he said firmly, stepping into the office as he spoke.
He had been off watch when Evan Wilson arrived and, aside from a perfunctory greeting via ship's intercom, he had not spoken to her. He got his first good look at his acting chief medical officer- as she swung her chair toward the sound of his voice, rose and advanced on him, all in one smooth motion.
She had a shock of short chestnut hair that would ordinarily have been described as "wavy," although in her case it conjured an image of a wave breaking against rocks with force enough to shatter them. Her eyes were the blue of a very hot flame. Striking, he thought, then added, in more ways than one! But by the time he realized he had braced to defend himself, she had stopped, only inches away, to look up at him. She stood barely as high as the insignia on the breast of his tunic.
An impish smile crossed her face. "Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "just the man I wanted to see...."
Her manner was pure impudence, but the words pricked Jim Kirk's conscience. "I must apologize for my behavior, Dr. Wilson. I see the past few weeks have affected my morale as adversely as that of the rest of the crew."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My snubbing you," he explained, "Childish of me, I know." He shook his head and gave her his best boyish grin. "In this case, not welcoming you in person entailed its own punishment."
She grinned back. "Business first, Captain, flattery later. There is no reason to transfer Enterprise crew to the Flinn."
"I'm afraid there is, Dr. Wilson: Starfleet orders. If the decision had been left to me..."
She returned immediately to the screen. "How about a formal complaint to Starfleet?" she suggested.
"They'd accept it. They might even read it. But they won't countermand the orders. Now before you go flyin' off the handle again, Evan"- this was McCoy at his country-doctor best- "and you too, Jim, Micky Mickiewicz is the best there is. If I needed a doctor, I'd call her."
"High praise indeed, Bones."
"And every word of it true, I assure you," McCoy said. "Now, is there anything else?" Evan Wilson nodded. "Yes... about that help I offered you."
"I thought we'd had the final word on that subject," McCoy said, giving Kirk a significant look. It was clear, however, that her continued impudence amused McCoy.
Equally amused, she glanced up at Kirk and said, "Once I deal myself in, Captain, I play by the rules. Though I sometimes regret it.... No, Leonard, not me. Of the sixteen people we've got suspected to have been exposed to ADF, eleven request permission to beam down to Eeiauo rather than to the Flinn."
"Suspected to have been exposed is not the same thing as exposed. If they beam down here, they damn well will be exposed." McCoy shook his head with some vehemence. "No, Evan, absolutely not."
She threw up her hands in resignation. "Well, can't say I didn't try. Call me if you turn up anything new."
A moment later, she was still staring into the darkened screen. At last she rose, frowning absently, then turned her attention back to him. "Captain," she said, "as long as you're not doing anything, come with me. If they must go, we'll give them a proper send-off. It's not much, but it's something. When it comes to morale, even little things are important."
Looking down at her, Kirk could have said the same thing but decided not to risk it. Since he had fully intended to be present when his crew members were transferred to the Flinn, he simply nodded and followed her with a smile.
He'd have shaken hands with each in turn had quarantine procedures permitted it, but the best he could do was acknowledge each with a salute and his best wishes via the intercom.
"Captain," said Yeoman Jaramillo of Science Division, "we did request permission to join Dr. McCoy -"
"Permission denied," said Evan Wilson before Kirk could answer. "I'm sorry, Yeoman, but that's not medically advisable."
"But Dr. McCoy-"
"Dr. McCoy is not here," she said. "I'm acting Chief Medical Officer. Since you've volunteered to be of assistance, I'm appointing you my liaison officer with Dr. Mickiewicz. I'll need daily reports from her on anything she learns about ADF, and the same from each of you. If you have an itch, I want to hear about it; we're dealing with a complete unknown and anything could be everything."
Jaramillo's resentment softened- a useful task often did that. "Yes, sir," he said and, snapping a salute, he stepped onto the transporter.
When the last of the party had vanished into the beam, Kirk turned. "You didn't have to take the rap for Bones, Dr. Wilson."
"No," she said, "but since they resent my being here- you did, Captain- it'll do them good to have a reason."
Abruptly she gave a shrug and, with a complete change of tone, she said, "I guess I'll have to make my own fun. What are my chances of getting Snnanagfashtalli assigned as my guinea cat? If she'll agree, of course." Kirk had never heard any human crew member pronounce the security officer's real name. Most called her Snarl, though never to her face. Kirk found that even he thought of her as Snarl. "Snarl," said Wilson, as if prompting his memory.
"I do know her given name," he said, somewhat testily. "I was just thinking I don't often hear it used."
"Sorry, Captain." She touched his hand lightly. "I didn't think you'd be as peeved as I am about that." She gestured with her chin at the empty transporter. "I should have known better.... I think people ought to be called what they want to be called, even if it gives me a sore throat for a week to do it."
"Physician, heal -"
She laughed aloud. "Oh, Elath, you sound like Leonard!"
"What do you want with Snnanagfashtalli?" It was not easy but he made it. She was right about what it did to your throat.
"She's felinoid, too, and genetically much closer to the Eeiauoans than a human. I want to know why humans are contracting ADF syndrome but her people aren't, despite similar contact."
"Yes, by all means, if s
he'll agree to it. Tell her it's strictly voluntary, though. I'll clear it with Security."
"Thank you, sir!" She led the way to the door. Reluctant to see her go, Jim Kirk outpaced her and stretched an arm nonchalantly across the passage. It was a miscalculation, he found, for she merely ducked her head marginally and was under his arm and into the corridor before he had time to say another word. I wonder if that's what she did to Sulu, he thought and followed. He said, "Would you mind a personal question, Dr. Wilson?"
She stopped. "Call me Evan," she said, "if it's a personal question."
