Star Trek - TOS - The Tears Of The Singers

by Melinda Snodgrass

  Klingons. He had little hope that their reluctant partners would contribute

  anything meaningful to the research, and he suspected that they might

  become hostile and obstructive if they thought the humans were about to

  make a major discovery. He decided to warn the security guards to maintain

  their vigilance, and not to be lulled by the peace and serenity of this

  world. Rising, he moved off to talk with the three men.

  Uhura fltted the receiver onto the large stationary tricorder that would

  keep a constant record of seismic and climatic conditions, and reached for

  the sonic connector. Her hand groped futilely across the packing box, and

  she realized the tool must have rolled into the sand while she worked.

  Muttering a bit beneath her breath she began to paw through the sand while

  still trying to keep a grip on the receiver.

  There was a sudden and insistent pressure against her left thigh. Startled,

  she jerked around to look over her shoulder.

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  The receiver tumbled to the ground, and she found herself eye to eye with

  one of the 1hygetian youngsters. The connector was delicately gripped in its

  mouth. The picture presented was a fairly ludicrous one! the small,

  screwdriverlike tool protruding from the cub's smiling mouth, the proud and

  eager expression in its blue eyes. Uhura chuckled, and sank back on her

  heels in the sand.

  "Why, thank you," she said cordially, removing the connector from the

  creature's mouth. "Are you trying to help?. "

  The Thygetian hummed and tweeted, its little, roundskulled head bobbing

  with enthusiasm.

  "You probably have no more idea of what I'm saying than I have about your

  remarks. I hope we can change that soon."

  The cub chirped, then nosed the tricorder.

  "Curious about this thing, are you? Well, this is a tricorder," Uhura

  explained as she recovered the receiver, and attached it to the body of the

  device. "It's a much larger one than we usually use, but it also has a much

  greater range. It's going to constantly monitor the environmental

  conditions of your world so we can get a better idea of how you developed.

  Now, what do you think of that?"

  The cub seemed uninterested in the evolutionary implications of its own

  development, but very interested in the phaser which rested on Uhura's hip.

  The creature reached out with its mobile mouth and tried to slip the weapon

  from her belt.

  "Hey, none of that now. You could get hurt playing with this." She shook

  the phaser under the cub's nose admonishingly.

  The Thygetian responded with a long burst of agitated song, and began

  flopping happily around the woman. Uhura was forcibly reminded of her

  little sisters, and how they had often tried to entice her into a game of

  tag on the grass in front of their parents' home.

  Laughing, she tapped the Thygetian on the head. Its fur was exceptionally

  soft and silky beneath her fingers, Then, bound-

  The Tears of the Singers

  ing up, she began to back hastily away from the creature. The Thygetian

  seemed to grasp the rules of the game almost immediately for it followed

  after Uhura, and managed to whirl about and lay part of its back flippers

  across her boot with a resounding thwack. It then raced away with Uhura

  pursuing. IMey continued the game for several more minutes, then the

  Thygetian plunged into the ocean, and lay floating on its back while gazing

  impudently at Uhura, who stood balked on the shore.

  "If I weren't in uniform, and if that water weren't arctic in temperature,

  I'd come in after you," she called, shaking her fist at the singer who

  reposed among the whitecaps. She shook her head, gave a laugh and started

  back toward camp. It was decidedly warmer than when they had arrived, and

  Uhura opened her parka, allowing the breeze to cool her. Suddenly her

  friend was back, flopping along at her side with the water sheeting from

  its silver white pelt.

  Hours later the singer was still with her, pressed up against her leg as

  she tuned Spock's lyrette.

  "I'm going to get jealous if your little buddy doesn't make room for me,"

  Guy called. He was smiling, but there was a hint of grayness in his face,

  and he moved slowly and stiffly. She forced back her immediate impulse to

  ask if he were all right, knowing it would only aggravate him.

  "You don't have to worry, he's just, a baby."

  "He, is it? Earlier he was an it. "

  She stroked along the Thygetian's spine, causing him to shiver with

  pleasure. "He gives off a very de finite male feeling."

  "How so?" Maslin asked, dropping to the ground on the other side of her

  stool.

  "Because he's spoiled and demanding, of course," she teased, ruffling his

  black hair.

  "Ah lass, now how can you be so hard on the entire sex just because of this

  one bad example?" Scotty called, pointing at Maslin as he entered the

  circle formed by their shelters. He

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  grinned at Maslin, who glared at him in mock anger. "What ye need is a

  little time with a fine and gentle man who'll treat you with respect."

  "Why, Mr. Scott," Uhura crooned. "I never knew you were interesfid."

  "And I never knew if you'd spare me a glance2,

  "She won't," Guy interjected. "She prefers a man who can speak Basic

  without hoking it up with an outdated ethnic accent. 11

  "Hoo hoo," Uhura murmured, glancing from one man to the other. "Things are

  getting rough now."

  Maslin grinned up at Scott, whose twinkling eyes belied the frown that

  creased his forehead. "AD right, you Ssasenach, I'll concede this round to

  you, but I wam you, I won't forget."

  "I'm sure of that. You people have the most amazing capacity for nursing a

  grudge. You've been stealing that damn coronation stone for the past six

  hundred years."

  Scotty gave a modest little cough, and clasped his hands behind his back.

  "Aye, and the last time was a mere twenty-eight years ago."

  "And you were in on it too," Uhura said with a laugh. "Scotty, I'm ashamed

  of you."

  "It was for the honor of Scotland, lass."

  "I wasn't aware that the Scots had any," Maslin said sotto voce.

  "I heard that."

  "Now don't get started again," Uhura said at the same moment.

  The rest of the landing party began trickling into camp. They were treated

  to the same spectacular sunset that had painted the sky and struck

  prismatic colors from the cliffs the day before. Chou and Donovan prepared

  the evening meal while the remainder of the party sat chatting around a

  campfire. Spock sat somewhat removed from the humans, dictating into a

  recorder. The fire was really unnecessary. The 101

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  party was well supplied with thermal lanterns and a food processor, but it

  added to the sense of warmth and closeness to have the fire flickering in

  the center of the camp. Spock had raised an eyebrow at the illogic of this

  form of heat generation, but he had not demurred when several of the landing

  party had taken an hour from their
duties to gather driftwood. He had

  learned, after repeated and sometimes not very successful attempts, not to

  try and impose his rigid notions of duty and logic on the humans.

  After dinner the group sat in a drowsy 'circle staring somnolently at the

  leaping flames. Maslin lay with his head pillowed in Uhura's lap, and her

  slender fingers ruffled through his hair, straighteming and smoothing the

  dark strands. The young Singer, with a fine show of fickleness, had

  transferred his affections to Guy, and now lay draped across the composer's

  legs.

  Guy opened one eye and, reaching up, captured Uhura's hand and brought it

  gently to his lips. She smiled down at him and, bending forward, pressed a

  quick kiss onto his forehead. Aboard ship such an open display of emotion

  would have been unthinkable, but here on the surface of this silver-lit

  world Uhura felt less inhibited. The other members of the landing party had

  tacitly accepted the deepening relationship between her and the composer,

  and she felt less shy about displaying the affection she felt for this

  small, intense man.

  Spock, who had reclaimed his lyrette from Uhura, struck a soft chord that

  hung vibrating in the air. His long fingers played over the strings, and

  Uhura lifted her head, recognizing the introduction to "Beyond Antares,"

  the song she had written in a moment of loneliness.

  Her voice rose, warm and rich in the darkness, and the other people about

  the fire stirred and stretched, listening appreciatively.

  Spock, with the sensitivity of a natural telepath, became increasingly

  certain that they were under observation. His fingers continued to move

  smoothly and swiftly across the 102

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  strings, but he raised his head, and peered intently out into the darkness.

  His Vulcan sight enabled him to discern the shadowy figure hovering

  hesitantly near an outthrust spur of Cliff.

  Keeping his voice low he said, "Mr. Ragsdale, there is an intruder about

  thirty yards to our right near the base of the cliff. Maintain a casual

  attitude, but please apprehend the individual. "

  "Yes, sir. " The heavyset security guard rose, stretched and headed toward

  one of the shelters, yawning as he went.

  Uhura had her back to the intruder so she couldn't turn and look. She felt

  as if a target had been drawn in the middle of her back, and her shoulders

  tensed as she sat waiting for the bum of a disruptor. She wondered why the

  Klingons would send only one person or if there were more lurking in the

  rocks. As Ragsdale vanished into the darkness she suddenly realized who had

  to be standing and watching the camp.

  "Mr. Spock," she said quietly. "I think it may be the young Klingon woman.

  When Guy and I discovered her yesterday we invited her to come to our camp.

  If she becomes frightened it could upset our truce with the Klingons."

  Spock glanced in the direction where Ragsdale had disappeared. "I rather

  fear that it is too late to recall Mr. Ragsdale. We shall have to wait upon

  developments," he concluded with a wry twist to his mouth.

  "I have a better idea," Guy said, pushing himself to a sitting position.

  "Why don't we just ask her to join us before your gorilla has a chance to

  jump on her?"

  Uhura cocked an eyebrow at Spock. "It is logical."

  Spock looked faintly miffed, perhaps that Mashn had found the simpler

  solution, but he nodded. "Very well, can to her, Lieutenant. She is at

  least acquainted with you."

  Uhura rose, and looked in the direction of Spock's gaze. She could see

  nothing in the darkness, but if the Vulcan said there was a person standing

  in the shadows of the cliff it was certain there was someone there."

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  The Tears of the Singers

  "Kali?" she called. "Why don't you come and join us?"

  Fbr several moments there was no response, then Uhum became aware of the

  Klingon as she seemed to coalesce like a figure conjured from wizard's

  smoke.

  Kali moved cautiously into the fire's light. She knew she was probably

  exceeding Kor's instructions, but she had to confess that she was curious

  about the humans.

  They were all staring at her now, their faces white and blank in the

  darkness. All but Uhura, whose skin was even darker than a Klingon's. They

  seemed strange and alien in the cold darkness of this new world, and all

  the stories she had heard of human cruelty and treachery came back to haunt

  her. Her fingers twitched spasmodically near the buff of her disruptor. if

  any of the humans had moved she would have used it, but they sat quietly at

  their ease as she approached. She resented their relaxation, for it pointed

  up her own tension.

  But why shouldn't they be relaxed, she thought resentfully. I am on their

  territory, and I am one against many.

  As she stepped fully into the firelight her eyes flicked quickly about the

  circle of humans. Everyone except their captain, and a security guard, were

  present. She had assumed Kirk would return to his ship. She wondered at the

  guard's absence.

  A tall, slim man with dark hair and gentle blue eyes leaned forward, and

  lifted a pot from the edge of the fire. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

  He wore the badge of security. His companion, a heavyset blond, frowned at

  his friend's cordiality.

  So, Kali thought, perhaps they are not all so certain about worlang with

  the hatefid Klingons.

  "That is a human beverage?"

  "Yes," the Vulcan replied. "The humans find it pleasant, but it contains

  large amounts of caffeine which I find objectionable. We Vulcans have no

  need of such artificial stimulants."

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  "So that's why they're such a lot of cold fish," Scotty said, as he delved

  about in his pack, and withdrew a small flask. "I myself like a bit of

  stimulant in my stimulant," he added as he deepened his burr, and splashed

  a liberal dollop of an amber liquid into his cup of coffee.

  Puzzled, Kali glanced from one man to the other. Uhura rose, and touched

  her lightly on the elbow, indicating a vacant stool.

  "I don't blame you for being confused. You're listening to another

  installment of a long and ongoing battle about human versus Vulcan customs.

  It's usually our ship's doctor who carries the standard for humanity, but

  in his absence Mr. Scott is standing in. Please, won't you sit down?"

  Kali settled gingerly onto the stool. The dark-haired guard handed her a

  cup of coffee. She sniffed at it suspiciously, took a sip, then nodded.

  "It's good."

  "There, you see, Mr. Spock, another race with some taste and sense," Scotty

  chortled.

  Ragsdale came looming up out of the darkness, shaking his head like a

  frustrated St. Bernard. "I searched an over those rocks, Mr. Spock," he

  called as he lumbered into the circle of light, "and I couldn't find a

  thing."

  "'Me intruder has in fact been located," Spock said.

  "And is in fact a guest," Maslin added quickly, and Kali relaxed back onto

  her stool. Apparently the humans were not contemplating impri
soning her.

  She took another sip of the coffee to cover her nervousness. All

  conversation had ceased, and the Earthers stared uneasily into the fire or

  off into the night sky. Their obvious ne rvousness helped banish hers, and

  she turned to Uhura.

  "I heard you singing. It was very nice."

  "Thank you. It's something I enjoy doing."

  61wiff you do it again?"

  "Yes, if you would like."

  "Let me get my violin, and we'll give the lady a real taste of human

  music," Guy said, and pelted off toward his tent. He

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  was back in a moment, and he quickly tuned to Spock's lyrette. The two

  humans and the Vulcan conferred briefly, then began a simple but haunting

  song. It was obvious they were improvising, for no two verses were the same,

  but it an blended together in a harmonious whole.

  Kali wrapped her hands around the mug, enjoying the way it warmed her

  chilled fingers, and began to relax. The intonations were very different

  from Klingon music, but she found it pleasant to listen to, and it made her

  think of that night months ago when she and Kor had gone to a wine garden

  on Klinzhai, and sung and danced until the three moons had set. Thinking of

  Kor made her once more aware of her loneliness, and she wondered how things

  were going aboard ship. Worries about Karsul, the phenomenon, her

  separation from her husband, began to chase each other through her head,

  and she lost track of what was happening around her.

  "Kali?" someone asked questioningly, and her head snapped up.

  "Guess that's a comment on our abilities," Maslin said wryly. "We put our

  listener to sleep."

  "I wasn't sleeping," she said hurriedly. "Only thinking."

  "You seem worried," the dark-haired guard who had given her the coffee

  said. "Is there anything we can do?" Kali eyed him suspiciously but he

  seemed sincere, and another of her cherished notions about humans went down

  in ruins.

  "I do not mean to pry," Scott said. "But it had occurred to me that your

  presence here might cause trouble for you. You're not likely to walk into

  a hornet's nest when you go back to camp, are you?"

  She smiled faintly, and adjusted the golden sash of her rank where it cut