by Uhura's Song
Evan Wilson sighed - a long, drawn-out sigh of disappointment- then she turned to Jinx to-Ennien and said, "Well. And just where would I find your pulse?"
With any luck, thought Kirk, they'll be so busy prodding each other they won't have time for me!
Lieutenant Uhura had no idea how to carry out Mr. Spock's order to establish further rapport with the Sivaoans.
To come all this way and not be able to get help! she thought. To find the world had been a miracle itself, but it was not miracle enough and she knew it. She sat on a small camp stool near the cooking fire, watching the Sivaoans as they went about the every-day business of living, and thought of Sunfall of Ennien, dying. Surely these people could not deny her help, surely they couldn't be so cruel!
Without conscious thought, she reached into her utility pouch and withdrew the Charellian joyeuse. In a way, it was Mr. Spock's doing that she had brought it- and Sunfall's picture. Readying herself for the landing party, she had deliberately chosen these non-regulation items for luck, because it was something Mr. Spock couldn't do. Perhaps even the captain couldn't have- but she could and she did. Mr. Spock would certainly have raised an eyebrow at that, but she knew in his own way he would approve.
Almost of themselves, her fingers began to pick out a tune on the joyeuse, a song she'd learned from one of the children at the Eeiauoan embassy on Two Dawns. She had asked the child to teach it to her; and the child, in turn, had introduced her to Sunfall.
For luck, Sunfall. For luck Christine, she thought and began to sing.
Chapter Seven
After some two hours flat on his back with nothing to do but watch Evan Wilson and Jinx to-Ennien poke and prod one another, Jim Kirk was getting restless. Now the two of them stood at the tent flap to see what all the commotion was- and that was entirely too much for him.
As if she sensed this, Wilson turned and said, "Captain, I think I'll release you from observation." She gestured out. "They need more observation than you do!" Jinx stared at him for a moment and then arched her whiskers forward. He took this to mean she released him as well, and he got to his feet and joined them at the opening.
Across the clearing, his crew had once again attracted a crowd. Wilson stepped through the opening and rose on tiptoe, as if the extra inch and a half would give her a clear view. "I suggest we take a closer look," Kirk said. "Even I can't see over those ears."
Together they made for the crowd and eased their way through. Uhura sat on a camp stool, her joyeuse in her lap, singing an old Earth tune. She was surrounded by Sivaoans of all ages, sizes, and markings who were joining in on the chorus. Kirk had never heard anything like it in his life; what the Sivaoans lacked in pronunciation, they made up in enthusiasm. Punctuating this joyous cacophony were bellowed instructions from Chekov, who seemed to have become boss of a construction gang that included Spock and another handful of Sivaoans, equally assorted. Chekov appeared to be supervising the construction of an upside-down openweave basket; it was made of long saplings thrust into the ground, bent over, and interlaced, and it was huge. Kirk said to Evan Wilson, "Are you sure I'm all right?"
"You are if I am," she said with a chuckle.
"Keptain!" Chekov came bounding over, as full of enthusiasm as his workers. "Gled to see you! How are you, sair?"
"I'm fine, Mr. Chekov.... What is this thing?"
Spock said, "Mr. Chekov is constructing a shelter, Captain."
"Fine, Mr. Spock," said Kirk, still somewhat bemused. "As you were, Mr. Chekov. Don't let me interrupt."
"Yes, sair!" Chekov saluted and bounded back to a pile of saplings. He chose six more and picked up a large rock.
Uhura had finished her song. Chekov shouted across to her, "Lieutenant, pley something for heavy pounding." Uhura thought for a moment, then struck up a new tune and began to sing. Chekov, if it was possible, brightened further. "Pairfect!" he called. Kirk knew he'd heard the tune but did not place it until he realized that Pavel Chekov was caroling at the top of his lungs in Russian..."The Song of the Volga Boatmen."
The Sivaoans took up the chorus the second time it came around and before the song ended, Chekov had his saplings driven into the ground in two parallel rows coming from one side of the latticework structure. He deftly wove their tops together to create a long, narrow entranceway.
Then he called for an armload of leaves. These he somehow laced over the framework of saplings. His crew caught on to the technique as quickly as they caught on to song choruses, and a waterproof covering began to crawl up the sides of the structure to the highest point Chekov could reach. Some of the Sivaoans could reach higher but seemed unwilling to- perhaps they didn't wish to outdo Chekov, or perhaps they simply thought that was the right way. Maybe it is! Kirk thought suddenly. He'd never seen one of these shelters built; why should he assume they had?
Brightspot brought a second armload of leaves and said to Spock, "Do Vulcans have songs, too?" Oh, god, thought Kirk, here's where we get expelled from camp. He had heard Spock sing once, and once was enough.
"Yes, Brightspot, we do," said Spock. "I regret, however, that I did not bring my harp."
"Mr. Spock," said Uhura, "I know a few Vulcan songs, if you'll forgive my accent. I don't understand Vulcan, so I sing them by rote."
Spock considered her thoughtfully. "By all means, Lieutenant."
"Please forgive my accent," she said again, shyly. She concentrated a moment on the joyeuse, tuning it to Vulcan mode, then she played a long, sweet introductory passage and began to sing.
When she finished, there was silence. She looked again at Spock, more shyly than before, and opened her mouth to say something. Spock anticipated her: "You have no need to apologize, Lieutenant. If you are concerned about your accent, I shall be most happy to help you perfect it- but your singing cannot be improved upon."
"How about that?" Kirk muttered- not quite to himself, for Evan Wilson cast him a questioning glance. He explained very softly, "I always thought Vulcan songs were unbearable to human ears."
Just as quietly, she said, "You mean, it's not Vulcan songs but a certain Vulcan's voice?" When he nodded, she said, "Well, Kagan's Law..." It was his turn to question. "Kagan's Law of First Contact," she quoted, "'You'll surprise you more than they will.'"
Kirk nodded. Chekov was certainly proving the truth of that. Having just finished weaving a circular construction of the large leaves, he enlisted the aid of Brightspot and two of the larger Sivaoans. Chekov and Brightspot were hoisted aloft, and together- with an enormous flap!- they dropped the "roof" into position. A cheer went up from the crowd as the large Sivaoans lowered the two of them back to earth.
"There, Keptain," said Chekov, reporting with a salute. "A shelter."
"I see that, Mr. Chekov. Where on Earth did you learn that?"
"Volgograd, sair. Et school."
"What kind of courses do they teach in Volgograd?" Kirk allowed himself to be led inside the structure. He was fascinated; apparently, it was all held together by interweaving...no string, no bailing wire. Kirk couldn't imagine a high school course on primitive shelters.
"Enthropology, sair. Hends-on. Wery good professor. She said if we hed to do it, we would learn that primitive does not mean stupid."
"She was right, Mr. Chekov. I'm impressed."
"Thank you, sair." Chekov managed to look proud and bashful at the same time.
Spock, too, seemed impressed. He was intent on examining every inch of the structure and recording its details on his tricorder. Evan Wilson grinned at Chekov and said, "Mr. Chekov, you must teach me how to do that!"
"Of course, sair," he said, flushing with pleasure.
Uhura ducked gracefully through the entranceway. "Captain, the Sivaoans would like to see the inside."
"Of course, Lieutenant. Bring them in- in small groups." While there seemed ample room for the landing party, Kirk did not know exactly how many Sivaoans she meant. He added, "Mr. Chekov will give them a guided tour." Again to Chekov, he said, "Good wor
k, Mr. Chekov."
He gestured to Spock and Wilson to follow him outside. As they stepped to one side to allow a trio of Sivaoans entrance, Kirk found himself face-to-face with Stiff Tail to-Srallansre.
She looked him up and down. Then her tail spiraled. "I apologize Captain Kirk," she said. "I had no idea human heads were so soft. It did occur to me as I struck, but I did not ease off enough. Catchclaw has informed the others, so it should not happen again."
"I appreciate it, Stiff Tail."
There was an awkward silence. Stiff Tail examined the leafy covering of Chekov's shelter, prodding it absently with her tail. At last, she said, "We have much to learn from each other. Come, I have finished my work. We will sit and talk, and I will remember that you have soft heads."
"After you," Kirk gestured. To Spock, he added the rueful aside, "And I always thought I was hardheaded."
"Indeed, Captain. So Dr. McCoy has always led me to believe."
When Kirk and Spock rejoined the rest of the landing party, they found the interior of Chekov's shelter lit by a small fire. A cooking pot, tended by Chekov, bubbled cheerfully over it on a tripod of green twigs. Smoke rose through the open hole in the leaf roof.
Brightly colored mats, rugs and camp stools added to the festive air; heads lifted eagerly to greet him. Jim Kirk had no wish to disappoint them but he had nothing encouraging to say. He gave a quick negative shake of his head.
"No use talking about it on an empty stomach, then," Wilson said. "Eat first. Pavel makes a mean stew, Captain. Vegetarian, Mr. Spock; you need not worry- but watch out for the tail-kinkers."
"Tail-kinkers?" said Kirk.
"A form of local humor, I believe," Spock said. "I shall be interested to see if the captain also finds it amusing."
Evan Wilson cocked her head at Spock and, while Chekov ladled stew into ornate bowls and handed one to each, she said, "It might interest you to know, Mr. Spock, that Jinx tells me they're also a fairly potent stimulant- to a Sivaoan."
Whatever a tail-kinker was, it smelled good, and Kirk realized how hungry he was. The stew, though very spicy, tasted as good as it smelled; he gave it the attention it deserved. He had only taken a few mouthfuls when he bit into something round and hard; the resulting burst of spice very nearly brought tears to his eyes. "'Mean' is right!" he said, gasping. "Your stew bites back, Mr. Chekov."
"Yes, sair," said Chekov. He took it as a compliment, as Kirk had intended it.
Wilson passed him a chunk of bread and grinned, "Doctor's prescription. Water only spreads the fire." The bread did seem to help. "A fairly potent stimulant to a human, too!" he told her, between bites.
At last he laid his empty bowl aside and stared into the fire. When he looked up, he found them all waiting for him to speak. "There's not much to tell," he admitted, "Mr. Spock and I had hoped that Stiff Tail would be willing to speak about the Eeiauoans in private. Stiff Tail was willing to talk about everything but."
"Oh, Captain!" Uhura said. The terrible disappointment in her voice instantly sharpened his resolve.
"We have to keep trying, Uhura," he said. "We'll find a way to get the information we need, I promise you! We're not giving up."
"Captain," said Spock, "may I respectfully point out that these people are of the same species as the Eeiauoans-"
Kirk interrupted, more harshly than he intended, "I know that, Mr. Spock, that's why we're here."
Unperturbed, Spock continued, "- The Eeiauoans refused to speak of their homeworld despite the extreme urgency of their own situation."
Kirk suddenly caught his point. "You mean these people might be as suicidally stubborn as the Eeiauoans?"
"Exactly, Captain. Perhaps more so, as they do not have an urgent motive for action."
"I'm stubborn, too, Mr. Spock."
"Indeed, Captain." Spock inclined his head, almost as if in tribute.
"Captain?" Evan Wilson said. "Stubbornness, as you so aptly point out, is a function of individual personality- and not just in humans. All we have to do is find the least stubborn person in camp"-she grinned impishly- "and lock him in a small room with you!"
Chekov coughed and turned his head discreetly to one side.
"I'm not sure I appreciate the way you put that, Dr. Wilson," he said, although he did for the smile he saw Uhura trying her best to suppress. "But, yes, that's all we have to do." He turned to Spock, his own enthusiasm renewed, and said, "If Stiff Tail won't talk about the Eeiauoans, let's find someone who will."
"Such a plan does entail a certain amount of risk, Captain."
"But it's worth a try, Mr. Spock. We'll mingle with the Sivaoans, get to know them, share information. Use your own judgment, people, but if you find a way to mention the Eeiauoans without getting your head knocked off, do it! If someone drops a hint, however slight, that he's willing to speak on the subject, I want to hear about it immediately.... Swap songs with them, Uhura. Even a song might tell us something.... We've learned that much already. Don't miss anything, however subtle. There are a lot of people counting on us."
"Yes, sir," said Uhura, and this time there was eagerness in her voice.
Something nudged Jim Kirk gently in the small of the back. He spun defensively. The tip of a tail protruded some six inches into the shelter; it poked him a second time, just below the rib cage. He recognized the markings and relaxed. "Not easy to knock on a tent, is it?" he said with a laugh. "Come in, Brightspot."
The tail tip disappeared as Brightspot doubled smoothly around to enter head first. "This long doorway makes it hard to be polite, Mr. Chekov," she said. "I shell mek the entrance shorter," said Chekov. "I did not know your custom."
She sniffed the air and her tail spiraled. "You cooked with tail-kinkers!" she said, apparently pleased by the discovery.
Chekov nodded and, with an angelic expression, added, "Keptain Kirk was somewhat unprepared...."
Brightspot's tail coiled tighter. "I'm sorry I missed it. Mr. Chekov pulled your tail the way you pulled mine, Captain Kirk." She brushed Jim Kirk's cheek affectionately with her tail. It tickled, and Kirk snatched for it as he'd have snatched to stop tickling fingers.
She flicked it away. "Oh, no!" she said, though her tail still curled happily.
Kirk chuckled in spite of himself. "I had no intention of pulling it, Brightspot. I may tease, but I don't think I could actually bring myself to yank your tail. I never got into the habit." She was quick to see the truth of this and her tail snaked back into reach. He caught and stroked it.
This settled, Brightspot stared across the fire at Uhura. "I have a message for you," she said. "Rushlight to-Vensre invites you to stay with him while you're in camp. He would offer to trade songs, but he does not know your customs, and he would be content with your company."
"Brightspot," said Uhura, "I don't know your customs, either. What would you do in my place?"
"I'd trade! Rushlight makes wonderful songs! Distant Smoke hopes- well, I shouldn't tell you this, but Distant Smoke says he's never seen Rushlight so impressed- Rushlight might make you his inheritor." The prospect clearly excited Brightspot and, when Uhura said nothing, Brightspot said, "Rushlight hasn't chosen one. If he died, all his songs would be lost, and that would be terrible!"
Uhura said, carefully, "Brightspot, I don't understand. Wait- let me explain how it is among my people. I may speak of taboo subjects; I want you to know that if I do it is from ignorance only."
Brightspot arched her whiskers forward, but Kirk felt her tail tip quiver.
Uhura went on, "Among our people, anyone may sing a song. If Mr. Chekov teaches me a song, I am free to sing it where and when I please."
The quiver in the tail tip was stronger now, threatening to become a flick of anger. Kirk tried to soothe it.
"And if Mr. Chekov created the song?" Brightspot demanded.
"I would ask his permission before I sang it to others," Uhura said, "but many of our people would not, and Mr. Chekov would be neither surprised nor angry."
&nbs
p; In a much softer voice, she added, "If a song is not sung, it dies, Brightspot. Many of the songs I love most survived because just one person heard and remembered- and passed them on. This is our custom. Yours must be very different. Please tell me about it.... I have no wish to cause harm through my ignorance."
The ridge of fur that had risen around Brightspot's neck slowly began to subside. Kirk could feel her tail relax as well, and at last she gave a long sigh and said, "No one- no one- but Rushlight would sing one of his songs without his permission! He's given a great many of them away- Fetchstorm says those he's tired of- but if he gave them all away, what would he have to trade?"
