Star Trek - TOS 021 - Uhura's Song

by Uhura's Song

  "If you wish it," she said. The delight in her eyes warred with the formality of the Old Tongue words and for a brief moment she reminded Uhura so much of Sunfall that, quite without meaning to, Uhura asked, "Are you of Ennien?"

  "To-Ennien. Forgive me, you may call me Jinx to-Ennien. You are called StarFreedom to-Enterprise? Is that correct?"

  This took a moment's interpretation on Uhura's part. The universal translator must have rendered "Nyota Uhura" as "StarFreedom" and Jinx added "to-Enterprise" to conform to local custom. "To-Ennien" was obviously a language correction; Captain Kirk had been right to question the different versions of CloudShape's name.

  "Essentially correct," she said, "Jinx to-Ennien." Uhura took a deep breath and went on, choosing her words with care, "I bring sad news of kin of yours on a distant world...."

  Jinx's whiskers quivered with excitement. "Kin of mine? On another world?- Please try again, StarFreedom, perhaps I misunderstand you!"

  Very slowly, Uhura began again, "Your distant relatives, your kin on another world, are in great danger. I believe- I pray- your people may be able to help them." She got no further.

  A second Sivaoan, gray-striped of fur and somewhat older and larger than Jinx, stepped aggressively between the two of them. He said a few terse words to Jinx, who bristled and began what seemed to be an explanation, for it involved pointing to Uhura with her tail. With no warning, he struck Jinx a stunning blow to the side of the head; she rocked with the force of it, but made no attempt to strike back. Then he said something more, this time with the air of an adult jollying a child, but Jinx made no reply. Her tail drooped perceptibly and she backed away.

  The striped Sivaoan turned to Uhura. She tensed, ready to duck a blow, but instead he said something. Again, it was in the contemporary language and she did not understand. She told him so in the Old Tongue.

  He made a gesture of greeting and replied in kind. "I am Winding Path to-Srallansre. You do not understand, StarFreedom, yet your companion spoke our language well."

  "Captain Kirk used the universal translator, sir. It would make it easier. May I?" Uhura turned on her universal translator again.

  "Do you understand me now?" he said.

  "Yes," said Uhura. "As I tried to tell Jinx, we believe your people may be able to help your relatives -"

  Winding Path flicked one ear back- in Sunfall it would have been a gesture of disdain- then he said, "Have you walked far?"

  Puzzled by his change of subject, Uhura said, "No. As Captain Kirk told you, we come from the Enterprise, which is now orbiting your world...."

  "You and your friends are welcome to stay under our protection until someone comes for you. You will speak to Stiff Tail," he said firmly before she could repeat her plea for help. "I will tell her how it happened."

  There was nothing further to say for the moment. "Thank you," said Uhura, searching her memory for something more formal. But before she found it, Winding Path had already walked away. All her urgent questions would have to await Stiff Tail. Dismayed as she was by her failure, she had only duty to fall back on. She returned to Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock to make a full report of what little she had learned.

  Jim Kirk had understood only the last few words of the exchange but Uhura's expression told him plainly that she had found no instant answers to the Eeiauoans'- the Federation's - plight. Not that he had honestly expected them, but one could always hope - and hope ran high in a desperate situation.

  At least the Sivaoans seemed to accept them as guests. That was certainly useful. The acceptance seemed so complete, in fact, that the camp resumed normal business, or as normal as could be when each of the Sivaoans wanted a closer look at the strange new arrivals to their camp.

  By the time Uhura returned to them, the landing party was encircled by curiosity seekers, all staring with that same unblinking intensity. Tails and whiskers seemed in constant motion with excitement. From the trees around the edge of the clearing, half a dozen more Sivaoans scrambled down; the claws were still used for climbing, Kirk noted.

  "Captain, I'm sorry," Uhura began. She had turned off her universal translator to give them some privacy.

  "For not going by the book?" Kirk suggested. "There is no 'book' on a first contact. What works, works. You did just fine, Uhura."

  "Indeed," said Spock. "It would seem your human qualities were a considerable asset."

  Kirk would have taken this as quite a compliment, and Bones would have done twenty minutes at least on an "admission" of this sort from Spock. Uhura only seemed further dismayed.

  "It didn't help, Mr. Spock," she said. "They didn't listen. We still haven't any help for Sunfall and Christine and all the others. He just changed the subject and walked away!"

  "Lieutenant," said Spock, "it took Heinrich Schliemann most of his lifetime to find Troy. He was not seeking specific information from its inhabitants."

  I see Spock has finally puzzled out the use of "Heinrich Schliemann," Jim Kirk thought to himself with amusement. Aloud, he said, "Yes, Uhura, give us a few days. We're ahead of schedule."

  She shook her head. Meaning, he thought, not as far as Sunfall and Christine are concerned. He agreed with the sentiment, but he also knew how difficult a task they had actually set themselves.

  Uhura went on, "I chose Jinx"-she indicated the masked Sivaoan who stood defiantly close- "to speak to because Her voice faltered and Kirk finished for her, "Because she looks like Sunfall, yes. Go on."

  He listened carefully as she gave a full report of the exchange in Old Tongue.

  "- I'm sorry I can't explain the rest," she said finally. "Mr. Spock was right about the change in the language. I hardly understood a word of what Winding Path to-Srallansre said to Jinx. If they were Sunfall's people, I'd say Winding Path scolded Jinx like a child. Have you ever seen an adult very angry at something children have done, but not angry at the children themselves?"

  "Yes," said Kirk, "I understand."

  "But Jinx is not a child, Captain. And she was angry in a different way- as angry and as resentful as if she were being patronized and knew it."

  "Class differences, Mr. Spock?"

  "A possibility, Captain. As yet, we know very little about this culture."

  "Then let's start learning...." Kirk glanced again at Uhura. "If the rest of us do as well as you have, Lieutenant, we'll get our answers."

  He snapped on his universal translator.

  "Oh," breathed Evan Wilson-she stood face-to-face with a Sivaoan, the two of them regarding each other with undisguised wonder- "I am ambitious for a motley coat!" Her voice rang with delight and no little envy.

  This one was about the same height as Wilson, although the ears made the Sivaoan appear taller. Her coat was predominantly white, patched at random with orange and black. Her face too was mostly white but looked as if someone had taken a sooty thumb and drawn a broad black smudge down the bridge of her nose. It gave her an odd, pleasantly clownish look that was all the more striking in combination with the grace of her movements.

  Wilson copied the greeting she had seen Uhura give, and the Sivaoan returned it in kind. As if this had broken the ice, another Sivaoan approached Chekov and made the same gesture.

  "Well, Mr. Chekov," Kirk said, "aren't you going to say hello?"

  "I feel silly, Keptain," said Chekov, eying the Sivaoan with misgiving.

  "Then why don't you greet Mr. Spock with a hearty handshake?"

  "Sair!" Chekov was appalled at the suggestion. "Thet would be rude- Mr. Spock is a Wulcan!"

  "Exactly, Mr. Chekov. Don't be rude to our hosts." Having put it that way, Kirk had to set a good example. Chekov gave him a hangdog look but displayed his claws.

  The Sivaoan with the smudged nose still stared round-eyed at Wilson. "You- you like my coat?" she asked, as if she'd never heard such a thing.

  "I think it's wonderful!" said Wilson.

  "Compared to hers, it is!" said a voice from the crowd, and the Sivaoan with the smudged nose turned to hi
ss in its general direction, her tail twitching.

  Evan Wilson frowned slightly in the same direction, then turned back. Pushing up her sleeve, she held out a bare arm for inspection.

  "It's all right," she said, "I'm as curious as you are. If you wish to touch, you may." She glanced at Spock, who was being subjected to the same curiosity, and she added, "Please do not touch Mr. Spock. Mr. Spock is part Vulcan- you can tell by the shape of his ears- and to touch a Vulcan may cause him distress." Those closest to Spock considered his ears, and Wilson tucked back her hair to give a clear view of the difference.

  Then she held out her arm again. The Sivaoan with the smudged nose reached out very hesitantly and touched Wilson's bare arm. Her ears flicked back and she snatched her hand back instantly. "No fur!" she said, clearly distressed.

  "Look closer," said Wilson. "I admit it's skimpy compared to yours, but it's normal for a human. Mr. Chekov has a bit more." She beckoned Chekov and said to the slightly bristled Sivaoan, "In our culture, we should at least introduce ourselves. May I ask your name? Is that polite on this world?"

  One of the others - Kirk saw it was the same one who had made the snide comment about Wilson's coat-said, "Sure. She just doesn't like her name. She's Brightspot to-Srallansre."

  Brightspot hissed at the other a second time and said, "Some day you will call me something else, Fetchstorm. When I have my name..." Her tail lashed a promise.

  Evan Wilson considered her thoughtfully. "I did not ask him your name," she said, at last, "I asked you. What do you wish me to call you?"

  Again, the Sivaoan's ears flicked sharply back. Kirk decided that it must be their expression of astonishment; given Brightspot's facial markings, it was equally astonishing.

  "You will call me Brightspot," she said. Her ears pricked up, returning an air of dignity to her bearing. "When I have my name, I will tell you first."

  "Thank you," said Wilson, gravely. Without being able to say why, Kirk had the feeling she had been paid a great compliment, and she had responded in precisely the right manner.

  "You will call me Evan Wilson. And this is Mr. Chekov. Your arm, Pavel, if you please."

  "Certainly, sair." Chekov seemed to have lost his embarrassment; perhaps it was because Brightspot was so obviously young. He pushed up his sleeve to show the thick black hair on his forearm. Brightspot looked up at Chekov's ears, matched them to Wilson's, then hesitantly touched Chekov's arm.

  This time she did not pull away immediately; her hand stayed long enough to get the feel of both Chekov's "fur" and the skin beneath it. "Still feels like palms all over!" she pronounced. "There's not enough fur."

  "Enough for a human," said Kirk, risking a smile. Brightspot did not seem to take it as a threatening expression. "But don't you get cold at night?"

  "We wear clothing," he said. Brightspot blinked at him uncomprehendingly; it was apparent her language did not contain the concept.

  Wilson tugged at his sleeve and said, "Artificial fur, the captain means. Here, feel it. We have different kinds to suit various conditions of weather and temperature."

  Brightspot checked his ears, patted the sleeve cautiously. The texture of the braid surprised her considerably but when she was done, she seemed relieved, if still a little sorry for their obvious deficiencies. "Is that artificial too?" She pointed to Wilson's hair with the tip of her tail.

  Wilson bent her head forward. "No, that's as much me as your fur is you. Give it a tug, but not too hard. It is attached."

  After a bit more patting, Brightspot gained the courage to tug. Wilson grunted. One of the adults, black-furred and very elegant, said, "Sounds like you pulled her tail, Brightspot."

  "You have no tail!" said Brightspot. Her own whipped suddenly forward; she stared, first at it, then at Wilson. "How do you manage?!"

  "I'm not sure how to answer that. I've never had a tail, so I wouldn't really know what to do with one if, by some magic, I suddenly acquired one. What do you do with your tail, Brightspot?"

  "She sticks it into things," Fetchstorm said, and Brightspot bristled in his direction.

  Wilson asked, "Is that an expression, Brightspot?"

  Still glowering at Fetchstorm, Brightspot said, "It's what babies do when they want to find out about something."

  "Ah," said Wilson, "you're curious!"

  "That's not how he means it."

  "I can guess," said Wilson, "and I sympathize... People are always telling me I have a long nose"-she tapped the end of it- "and that I'm always sticking it in where I shouldn't."

  Brightspot considered Wilson's nose, then those of the other members of the landing party. "But you all have long noses!" she protested.

  "Right," said Wilson, "but I'm the one who asked about your tail!"

  Brightspot's tail curled suddenly into a tight helix. She was not the only one- all around them, the Sivaoans coiled their tails like so many corkscrews- and Jim Kirk could not suppress a chuckle.

  Wilson gave her a look that was pure admiration. "I'm impressed," she said.

  Seeing that Wilson referred to her curled tail, Brightspot said, "That's if I'm happy. If I'm angry...well." She glared at Fetchstorm. "If I'm a little bit angry, I can do this." She flicked the very tip of her tail. "And if I'm very angry, I can do this." Again she glared at Fetchstorm- apparently she needed motivation for her demonstration- and this time her whole tail lashed twice. "How do you do that without a tail?"

  "For a little bit angry..." Wilson too looked at Fetchstorm; she folded her arms, gave an exaggerated sigh and tapped her foot. "For very angry, I yell. I won't because I don't want to scare any of the youngsters and, besides, it's hard to do when I'm not angry. As he is Vulcan by philosophy, Mr. Spock does neither."

  Several of the Sivaoans flicked their ears back, and one or two tails stiffened. The black one said, "You mean he gives no warning?!"

  "No," said Wilson with great emphasis, "I mean he does not get angry. Not a little bit, not very, not at all."

  "Why not?" Brightspot asked this directly of Spock.

  "Anger is illogical and serves no purpose," Spock said.

  Brightspot's wide-eyed stare said she'd think about that for a long while. She checked his ears again, to make sure she had the right one.

  "I think I envy you that tail, though," Evan Wilson went on, "now that I've seen how useful it is. You can let people know how you feel all the way across the clearing."

  "When I want to be nice," Brightspot continued, "I can do this." Her tail snaked forward cautiously and curled itself neatly around Evan's wrist. Prehensile! thought Kirk, surprised. He'd never gotten that impression watching Quickfoot- and neither McCoy nor Uhura had mentioned it.

  "That is nice," said Wilson. "May I touch?"

  "Distant Smoke?" said Brightspot to the elegant black one. Distant Smoke pricked his whiskers forward; evidently that was a nod, for Brightspot told Wilson, "Yes."

  Evan Wilson stroked the tail tip. "Soft," she said, "Are you all so soft?"

  It was Distant Smoke who answered, "The fur coarsens as we grow older. Brightspot is young."

  "Old enough to walk!" said Brightspot, sharply and defiantly.

  Distant Smoke pushed his way closer and looped his tail about Wilson's arm, just above Brightspot's. "I am Distant Smoke to-Srallansre, Evan Wilson. You may touch," he said. Wilson did, comparing the two with gentle strokes. "I see what you mean. Brightspot's is softer than yours- but, to my sense of touch, your fur is also extremely soft, Distant Smoke."

  Distant Smoke preened. That's it, Evan, thought Kirk, tell him how young he looks for his age. I've seldom seen a world where that's not a compliment.

  Wilson grinned at Brightspot. "My terrible skimpy fur gives me an advantage: I can feel how soft your tail is all over my skin, not just on my palms."

  Brightspot said, "Really?"

  "Really. You can stop feeling sorry for me. I suspect our various advantages and disadvantages work out about evenly- except maybe the tail. I must admit I see no ad
vantage to not having a tail."

  "Maybe," said Distant Smoke, "the advantage is that nobody can pull it."

  "You have a point." Wilson chuckled. "Having your tail pulled sounds very unpleasant."

  "It is," said Brightspot with vehemence and, as she glared again at Fetchstorm, the tail wrapping Wilson's arm twitched. There was a longstanding grievance if Kirk had ever seen one.

  "What do you do when you want to be nice?" The question came from Distant Smoke and seemed partially designed to distract Brightspot.

  "I hold hands," said Evan promptly, "or, in this case, tails." She moved the tip of Brightspot's tail gently into her hand and gave a slight squeeze. "The squeeze is not to hurt but to let you know I feel good and I like you. When I feel very good, I hug."