Star Trek - TOS 021 - Uhura's Song

by Uhura's Song

  "That wouldn't surprise me in the least," Kirk told him.

  "So it hardly surprises me that she's got you in on it too," McCoy continued. "D'you know she told me she'd let me make rounds once a day, I stay in bed the rest of the time? She'll 'let' me! She threatened to send me-" He stabbed a finger at the ceiling, presumably in the direction of the Flinn and, still smoldering, he added, "I tell you, Jim, that woman, as small as she is, has all the makings of a tyrant!"

  Kirk grinned at him. "You sound better already, Bones."

  The scowl gave way to an answering grin, as McCoy lounged back on the cot. "I feel better, Jim. Lord, it's good to see you!" he said again. "Don't just stand there: pull up a chair and tell me everything."

  Unable to resist the line, Kirk said, "Just what the doctor ordered," and was rewarded by McCoy's startled laugh of comprehension. As Kirk reached for a small folding chair, he realized he was still holding the specimen case in his hand. "Micky sent her love," he said, "and some specimens you wanted. I should have given them to Evan."

  "Specimens from Micky? Don't you dare." McCoy eased Grabfoot's head from his arm, and Kirk somewhat reluctantly turned over the case. McCoy opened it. "Ah," he said with a sigh. "She gave you your three cheers, Jim?" He looked up for the answer.

  Kirk nodded. "For the Enterprise crew," he said, as he sat. "What's one got to do with the other?"

  "That's Micky," said McCoy. "Always a woman of her word." He turned the specimen case slightly so Kirk could see the contents: a bottle of Csillag brandy and, nestled in tissue paper, a single glass. He unpacked them both. "There ought to be another glass in one of those boxes, Jim. Get one and we'll drink to the lady."

  "Are you sure, Bones?"

  "Is it medically advisable, d'you mean?" McCoy glared at him and went on, "It was prescribed by one of the finest doctors Starfleet Academy ever produced, and I ought to know- we shared a cadaver."

  There seemed little Jim Kirk could say to that. He found himself a glass. "Sorry, Bones. I wouldn't dream of questioning the lady's judgment."

  "Good," said McCoy curtly. "Sit down, drink up"- he poured- "and tell me all about it." He raised his glass and, touching it to Kirk's, said, "To Micky, McCoy and Macbeth." He downed the brandy, then sighed contentedly.

  Kirk complied with the toast then asked, "Why Macbeth?"

  "He was the cadaver. The report that came with him listed coronary infarction as cause of death, but he'd been run through with a sword. We never did find out the circumstances. And Micky never could resist a good alliteration."

  From the foot of the cot came a sneeze, and WhiteWhisker sat up, tiny face contorted, nose working furiously. Before either could give the child a greeting, she hissed and bounced once on Grabfoot, who woke with an identical grimace. As McCoy poured himself another glass of brandy, Grabfoot leaned gingerly closer, sniffed and jerked back as if he'd been slapped. With a shout to White-Whisker, he charged for the door and out; WhiteWhisker was right behind him.

  McCoy peered into the amber liquid. "Never underestimate the power of a good brandy," he said, and this time sipped it slowly. "How's Chapel?"

  "She's fine. Her morale's low, but Micky says it's the...esthetic loss." At Bones's look of incomprehension, Kirk pointed to the bald patches on Bones's own head. "She'll get over it when her hair grows back."

  "I think I know how she feels," McCoy growled.

  They were both silent a moment, appreciating the brandy and the company. At last, McCoy set his glass on the floor and lay back once more. "All right," he said, "now you can tell me all about it. Doesn't seem right, you know."

  "What doesn't?"

  "While we all work ourselves to exhaustion here, you wander off and find the cure to ADF- for a song!" His smug expression told Jim Kirk that he had been waiting for a chance to use the line for some time now.

  Jim Kirk grinned back at him, spread his hands and countered with the line he had been saving for just this occasion: "It was child's play, Bones."

  Captain's Log, Stardate 2962.3:

  Vaccinated volunteers continue to arrive on Eeiauo from all over the Federation. Soon there will be no need of our extra hands and the Enterprise will be free for reassignment. Most of the crew has already returned to the ship. With the arrivals of Nurse Chapel and Doctors McCoy and Wilson, the ship's register is almost complete.

  Personal Log, James T. Kirk, Stardate 2962.3:

  ...which leaves us little to do but write reports for Star Fleet.

  And a formal report has no heading for "Chief Medical Officer, Characteristic Entrance Of."

  "Welcome back, Bones," Jim Kirk said, as McCoy sparkled onto the transporter platform.

  "Jim," he said with a smile. He glanced down to confirm that all of him had arrived safely and, fixing a steely eye on Scott, he growled, "'Scrambled my mother', Mr. Scott?"

  Scotty looked momentarily bewildered- then, with dawning comprehension, he said, "Oh, Rushlight! He didna warn me about his memory.... I didna expect him t' tell ye the tale...!"

  "Obviously not," said McCoy acidly, as he stepped down.

  Evan Wilson, hopping lightly off the platform behind him, said, "Is that where Rushlight got the idea for his 'Scramble Song'? Don't grouse, Leonard, it's a great success with the children. You should be pleased to have contributed."

  McCoy growled at her, "Some day I'm goin' to take you over my knee...."

  "I wouldn't advise it, Bones," Kirk said. "She's smaller than you are," and Evan rewarded him for it with a brilliant smile.

  Rather than explain the remark to McCoy, she said, "I'm on my way to sick bay; I want to say hello to Christine."

  "Tell her I'll be along in a minute," McCoy said.

  "I'll tell her you're picking on Scotty, and I'll sing her Uhura's Standard version of the 'Scramble Song'," said Wilson and scrammed before McCoy's amiable swat in her direction could connect.

  When he turned back to Scott, McCoy was grinning. "I'm in too good a mood to be bothered, Scotty," he said, "but don't think I'll let you forget it."

  "I wouldna do enna such thing, Dr. McCoy."

  McCoy, pleased, nodded, then said, "I'd like to see Chekov."

  "On the bridge," Kirk said and, leaving Scotty to supervise transport of the few remaining stragglers, accompanied him down the corridor.

  "As for you," McCoy said, "you didn't tell me how Evan got the Sivaoan solution into the boy- I had to read her reports to find out. Are you gettin' fastidious in your old age?" He chuckled. "Blew it up his nose! Lord, you should have heard Micky laugh. And wait until Starfleet Medical reads that one!"

  "And here I was thinking Starfleet misses all the good parts...."

  "Not that one, they won't." McCoy gestured him into the turbo-lift, said, "Bridge," then, "How's Spock, Jim?" As surprised by the question as by the seriousness of his tone, Kirk stared; and McCoy added hastily, "I don't mean medically. I mean, how does he seem to you? Noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

  "Out of the ordinary," Jim Kirk repeated and thought immediately of the one bright afternoon he had found Evan Wilson and a double handful of children, Eeiauoan and Sivaoan, all sitting on the hospital steps, all listening with rapt attention as Spock- Spock-told them the adventures of T'Kay, the Vulcan trickster. The memory brought a smile. "As in telling stories to the children? I didn't know he had it in him."

  "Neither did I. Evan threatened to have his pointy ears if he didn't keep his promise to tell Eager Talker about T'Kay." He grinned. "I got the full story from EagerTalker, and not just 'How it happened when CloudShape came to Vulcan'."

  Then he shook his head and went on, "That's not what I mean, Jim. He's been doin' some sort of research- his idea of fun, I suppose. And Evan gets the fastest response from Starfleet on a reference search I've ever seen. All I did was suggest he take advantage of her connections, whatever they are- and he practically bit my head off!"

  "Spock? I don't believe you for a minute."

  "All right, I'm exaggeratin'...but for
Spock it was a snap. That haughty affronted look of his"- McCoy demonstrated, overplaying considerably- "'I am quite capable of conducting my own research, Dr. McCoy, and should I require assistance, I doubt that Dr. Wilson's would be appropriate.'"

  "That's a snap, all right," Kirk agreed, "but then, you don't know what she's been doing to his pet computer. In fact, I can only guess...."

  By the time the lift drew to bridge level, Jim Kirk had filled him in on what little he knew of the flags in Spock's computer. "D'you know," McCoy said, "the way he's been watchin' her, I was half expectin' her to jump up and go 'Boo!' at him. So here you are tellin' me she already has.... Well, that explains his behavior, but I'm sorry I missed seein' it."

  "Cheer up, Bones. Maybe he hasn't found all her surprises yet."

  The doors hissed open and they walked onto the bridge. McCoy reveled in the welcoming hellos and came at last to Chekov, who doffed his rakish nonregulation cap and offered a jaunty smile and a stubbly growth of new hair for his examination. "You're a lucky man, Mr. Chekov. You'll be back in shape in no time," McCoy told him and added, chuckling to himself, "Blew it up his nose. That woman should have cards printed: 'Dr. Evan Wilson, Imaginative Medicine A Specialty."'

  Sulu grinned at him. "Speaking of imaginative," he said, "is there really such a thing as the organ of Zuckerkandl, or have I been had?"

  "The organ of Zuckerkandl? I'd say only one doctor in fifty even knows it exists. Am I bein' tested, Mr. Sulu?" McCoy eyed him suspiciously.

  After a long, equally suspicious look back, Sulu said to Chekov, "It could be a conspiracy. I wouldn't put it past her to con Dr. McCoy into confirming it for her...."

  From his console, Spock said, "Your conspiracy theory, Mr. Sulu, is unfounded. While it is a difficult reference to locate, the Starfleet medical library computers also confirm the existence of such an organ in the human anatomy."

  "Evan," said McCoy and, smiling broadly at Spock, he added, "I see why you didn't want her assistance, Spock. Any computer she queries is automatically suspect. At least, that's what I hear from Jim. Put her in the one-in-fifty category and leave it at that."

  "Your estimate, Doctor, is conservative almost to the point of inaccuracy."

  McCoy raised an eyebrow. "If I were Evan, I'd take that as a compliment. Bein' McCoy, I'm goin' to chalk it up as one of your usual slurs, Spock."

  "Captain," Uhura cut through, "I have Starfleet, sir. New orders."

  "On the screen, Lieutenant."

  Kirk listened with a growing sense of satisfaction: first came the general commendation his crew so richly deserved; second, the announcement of three weeks' much-needed shore leave, also richly deserved; third and best...

  "...You are to report back to Eeiauo, to pick up and transport an Eeiauoan delegation to Sivao. A list of delegates follows."

  They would all welcome the chance to see the outcome of the meeting between the two worlds, he knew. The name Sunfall of Ennien topped the list of delegates, and Jim Kirk could feel the radiance of Uhura's smile without turning.

  When the screen blanked and he did turn, he found her smile had diminished. Pressing her earpiece to her ear, Uhura said, "Additional orders coming in from Starfleet Command, sir, for Dr. Wilson," then she held up her hand for a moment's grace. Spock stepped to his station and scrutinized his computer. It was odd, Kirk thought, but no odder than most of Spock's behavior concerning the doctor, and he let it pass without comment. Uhura lowered her hand and, frowning slightly, said, "She's to report to Laurel Station immediately."

  "Immediately?" he repeated, taken aback, and McCoy muttered, "Starfleet," as if it were a word not used in polite company. Kirk said, "That's hardly fair. Ask them if they can wait three weeks."

  Uhura brightened and returned to her console. But before she could translate his words into a formal request, Spock said, "One moment, Lieutenant," and she paused, startled by the command implicit in his tone. Spock went on, "Captain, if you will permit an observation? I believe Dr. Wilson has been anticipating these orders for some time now. She would no doubt appreciate your intention, but she would hardly consider the result a kindness."

  McCoy studied him, then grinned to lighten the question: "Tryin' to get rid of her, Spock?"

  "No, Doctor."

  Kirk could read nothing in his face. I trust his judgment, he thought, and, waving a hand at Uhura, he said, "Let it go, Lieutenant. Pass the orders on to Dr. Wilson." Then he thought, I'm not so sure I trust his judgment on this one subject however, and added, subduing McCoy with a stare, "If she squawks, I'll place the request."

  But she did not squawk. Shortly thereafter she announced herself ready for departure. Jim Kirk eased his way through the thinning crowd of well-wishers on the shuttlecraft deck and found her, like her skiff, poised for departure. Spock was right, he thought, she's been waiting for this. "That anxious to leave us, Evan?" he asked, voicing it for the rest.

  She shook her head; the smile she gave him was rueful. "No, Captain, not that. I haven't had so much fun in a long time, or met so many people I liked all in one place." She clasped both hands on her quarterstaff, the one that had served them all so well on Sivao, and leaned her cheek against it. "But you don't need me anymore," and glancing up at Spock, she once again produced that wicked grin of hers, and added, "And even a Vulcan's patience won't last forever."

  McCoy guffawed. "All the more reason to stay, Evan-give us something' to look forward to! From what I've seen, you might just be the person to get through that stubborn front...."

  Evan Wilson laughed and held out the quarterstaff to him. "For you, Leonard, in case you ever have to contend with a Vulcan patient." McCoy hesitated, taking the offer as a joke, but she pressed the staff into his hands. She hugged Uhura and Chapel, kissed Scotty and Sulu each on the cheek.

  Chekov doffed his cap and held out his hand. Reddening self-consciously under the stubbly scalp his gallantry exposed, he said, "Good-bye, sair. We'll miss you."

  "I'll miss you too, Pavel," she said. "May I give you one last bit of medical advice, for safety's sake?"

  Surprised, Chekov said, "Of course."

  She leaned conspiratorially close to say: "Please take care when you get planetside. Women are going to be lining up to speak to you- and a great many of them will not be satisfied with speaking. Just be sure you get some rest between times." With that, she took his extended hand, pulled him toward her and gave him a kiss on the cheek as well. Chekov ducked his head, at once flustered and reassured.

  "Don't I get a kiss too?" McCoy protested, "Seems to me a quarterstaff is hardly a fair trade...." Laughing, Evan stood on her toes to kiss him. "That's better," said McCoy, looking smug, then he added, "How about Jim? He could use a lift in morale, too, Doctor."

  Jim Kirk grinned in anticipation as she turned his way. But, once again, he got the unexpected. Evan Wilson snapped to attention, saluted crisply and said, "Captain, it's been a pleasure to serve with you." Her blue eyes were bright with mischief. He returned the salute in kind and said, "The pleasure was mine, Dr. Wilson," and waited to see what she would do next.

  She turned to Brightspot and said, "Hug?" Brightspot coiled her tail and cautiously embraced Evan, while McCoy gave her an outraged look on Kirk's behalf. Then Evan held Brightspot out at arm's length and said softly, "Don't forget, Brightspot."

  Brightspot wrapped her tail around Evan's arm. "I won't, Tail-Kinker; I don't. I'll see you at Ennien."

  Evan Wilson nodded- and came at last to Spock. He stared down at her, the look on his face unreadable. It was a long moment before she spoke and, when she did, it was as if she took refuge in the formal language: "I regret we had no time for our experiments in the physiological effects of the Vulcan memory reading process. I have left detailed notes of my experience in the medical log. They are subjective, of course, but they may be of some use in suggesting an approach to formal research. Perhaps you and Dr. McCoy might-" She broke off suddenly but did not take her eyes from his face.

 
"Perhaps," he said, "although you would have been the better subject."

  "I like that, Spock," said McCoy acidly.

  Uncharacteristically, Spock made no response to McCoy. Still looking at Wilson, he said, "Thank you, Tail-Kinker to-Ennien. I have learned a great deal from our encounter."

  "So have I," she said. "Next time I'll be ready for you." The silence drew out between them, but no one dared to speak. "Mr. Spock," she said again, "Thank you for...everything. I owe you." Reddening suddenly, she looked away. "Clear the deck, people! Jamie and I have to be on our way!" She started for the skiff.

  Last to the hatch in his reluctance to see her leave, Kirk paused before clearing the shuttlecraft deck. And, as he turned for one final glimpse of her, Evan Wilson shouted, "Hey, Jim!" and raced toward him. He was so surprised when she leapt to throw her arms around his neck that he caught and held her purely by reflex. She kissed him soundly on the cheek. Then, laughing, she lowered herself to the deck, much like one of Catchclaw's children scrambling down, threw her head back to look challengingly into his eyes and said, "I'll see you again, Jim- you may not see me, but I'll see you!" She gave one last wicked grin, turned again and darted back to her ship.