Star Trek - TOS 021 - Uhura's Song Read online

  "Did I 'give away' the songs I sang, Brightspot?" Uhura asked, still puzzled. "Everyone sang the choruses with me." Brightspot bristled again. "We wouldn't steal from you, Lieutenant Uhura!"

  "Please, Brightspot," Kirk interjected, "Uhura had no intention of insulting you or anyone else. I had the same question myself- do you mean it's all right to sing the choruses as long as the song is sung by someone who has permission?"

  "Yes, that's so," said Brightspot, calming herself again. "No one would sing the choruses without you, Lieutenant Uhura."

  "So if I were to teach a song to Rushlight, he wouldn't sing it without my permission," Uhura said. She considered this for a moment, then she asked, "Do you mean not sing it or do you mean not sing it in public?"

  It was Brightspot's turn to be thoughtful. "Not sing it in public, I know," she said, "but what bards do among themselves, you'd have to ask Rushlight."

  Kirk could foresee further trouble. "Brightspot," he said, "we need your advice. If Lieutenant Uhura accepts Rushlight's invitation, she'll feel obligated to tell him of our custom. You were very angry. How angry will Rushlight be?"

  "Catchclaw says you all have soft heads and nobody's to cuff you."

  Kirk smiled. "Even with the best of intentions, Brightspot...even I have been known to lose my temper. Mr. Spock is the only one I know who wouldn't." Kirk was not about to go into the circumstances under which Spock might lose control of his emotions.

  "Well," said Brightspot, "if I had a soft head..." She addressed Uhura again: "I'd tell Rushlight, in Old Tongue, that I wouldn't sing his songs without his permission, and then I'd tell him my people had very different customs."

  "Thank you, Brightspot, I will," Uhura said. "Is there anything else I should know about being a guest?"

  Brightspot gave a great sigh of exasperation. "I don't know!" she said- her tail twitched away from Jim Kirk's grasp- "I didn't know you didn't know that!"

  Evan Wilson, surprisingly, chuckled. "I know a trick for it, Brightspot, one I guarantee will work on any world where you can find someone who's trying as hard to help as you are." She pointed. "Pretend the captain there is Rushlight and show us what you'd do if you were coming to accept his invitation."

  Brightspot's ears perked up, her whiskers arched forward. Without another word, she ducked into the shelter's entrance.

  Jim Kirk had to admire her flexibility- both tail tip and nose poked through the opening. "I stick my tail in," she told him. "Everybody recognizes my tail, so I don't have to call my name. Catchclaw would say, 'Catchclaw to-Ennien'. I only call my name if no one invites me in."

  Wilson grinned at her. "Since we don't have such distinctive tails, maybe we'd better just call our names."

  "I think so," said Brightspot. She looked again at Kirk and said, "Now you say 'come in."'

  "Come in, Brightspot," he said obligingly.

  Brightspot entered, then froze. "To Catchclaw, you would say, 'Come in, Catchclaw to-Ennien.'"

  "Then I should say 'Come in, Brightspot to-Srallansre!?"

  She raised her head slightly and the tip of her tail switched. "You don't have to. Catchclaw has her name. I don't have my name yet. If you don't know, do what I do: use the to-. It's better to be safe than clawed."

  "Brightspot," said Spock, "does Jinx to-Ennien have her name?" Spock gave the possessive the same emphasis Brightspot had used.

  "Don't be silly. Who'd choose a name like 'Jinx'? That's the only name I know that's worse than mine." Her hand went up, as if of its own accord, to cover the black smudge along her nose.

  In that instant, Jim Kirk saw suddenly a shy teenager, embarrassed by her imagined unattractiveness. "Where I come from," he said, "to call someone a bright spot in your life is a compliment." At her ears-back startled look, he explained, "Think of a cloudy day, with just one small break in the clouds. Think of standing in the middle of that little patch of sunshine. How does that make you feel?"

  "Warm all over," she said and stretched as if she could feel it as he spoke.

  "That," Kirk smiled, "is what we mean by bright spot. I'd say it suits you admirably."

  "Really? Bright spot makes you think of sunshine through the clouds?"

  "You make me think of sunshine through the clouds, Brightspot."

  She curled her tail around his upper arm. "I wish I could 'hug' you," she said.

  He stroked the tail. "I wish I could hug you too, Brightspot, but I think we'd better abide by the rules Distant Smoke laid down."

  She arched her whiskers and nodded. "Some day, though," she said, "when I have my name..." She had the wistful look of a small child saying, "When I'm grown up..." Maybe, thought Kirk, that's what she is saying.

  "Captain," said Spock, "I believe you have interrupted Brightspot's demonstration."

  "Yes, yes, Spock. Go on, Brightspot. I'm sorry I sidetracked you."

  "I'm not," said Brightspot, with a curious look at Spock. "You don't get angry. Does that mean you don't get happy, either?"

  "In the sense which I believe you mean, no, I do not. I do, however, find a pleasurable sensation in the solution to an intellectual problem."

  Kirk said, conspiratorially, to Brightspot, "Let's go on with the demonstration. Perhaps that will give Mr. Spock his 'pleasurable sensation'."

  When Brightspot had finished, the landing party knew all she knew about being a guest in someone's tent. It did not differ much from normal etiquette aboard the Enterprise, but Kirk was grateful that Brightspot had saved them from a few social gaffes.

  In complete innocence, Brightspot then turned to Spock. "Have I given you a pleasurable sensation?"

  Spock raised his eyebrow. "Indeed, Brightspot, I believe you have. Would you be so kind as to satisfy my curiosity on another point as well?"

  She nodded, and Spock continued, "I do not understand your use of the to- names. They would seem to indicate blood relationship, as between you and Fetchstorm, yet Catchclaw and Settlesand- who give every indication of being twins- do not share the same to-. May I ask the reason for this?"

  Brightspot's eyes went round with wonder. "You don't know anything!" she said, when at last she found her voice.

  Jim Kirk leapt to the defense of his science officer. "Mr. Spock knows a great deal about a great many worlds, Brightspot- more than the rest of us put together, in fact- but even Mr. Spock knows less about your world than a baby does."

  "Correction, Captain. There are certain scientific laws that apply to all worlds."

  "Correction noted, Mr. Spock. We have that advantage over a baby. But," he continued to Brightspot, "we have a baby's ignorance of language and custom. And we have no way of finding out unless we ask." He spread his hands and gave her his most charming smile. "We may even have to ask stupid questions...."

  "I see, I think. All the things I learned when I was little are all the things you don't know, but you know the periodic table?" This was addressed to Spock.

  "I am familiar with the periodic table," he assured her. "But I have been unable to ascertain whether your name is a matter of blood relationship or of some other factor that is unknown to me."

  "Then it's not a stupid question," Brightspot said. "It's a baby question." She gave a sidelong glance at Evan Wilson and said, "I can pretend you're Grabfoot, Mr. Spock. If Grabfoot asked me...I guess I'd say that to- is where I go to celebrate Festival. I'm to-Srallansre because Stiff Tail is my mother, just like Grabfoot is to-Ennien because Catchclaw is his mother. That part is blood relationship."

  She paused. When Spock nodded his understanding, she went on, "Catchclaw and Settlesand are both born to-Ennien, but Catchclaw is also to-Ennien by choice. Fetchstorm says the only thing crazier than born to-Ennien is chosen to-Ennien, and that Catchclaw is twice to-Ennien." She added, scathingly, "He would," and her tail flicked once in Fetchstorm's honor. "I think Catchclaw is nice. She's like you, Captain Kirk; she only pulls your tail if she likes you. There is one thing, though...." Brightspot lowered her voice. "I don't know for sure,
because I've only been to this camp twice, but from things I've heard some people say I think Catchclaw stays here!" Her manner made it abundantly clear that this was the most scandalous thing she could say about anyone. She added, hastily but just as quietly, "Don't tell her I said so! And don't ask her about it, not even baby questions!"

  Spock said, "Such behavior would be considered exceptional, even abnormal, in a nomadic culture, Captain."

  Brightspot nodded emphatically at him, whiskers forward. Kirk couldn't help but smile and say, "I'm willing to bet that my behavior would seem stranger than that, even to Fetchstorm."

  "Oh, but you don't know any better!" Brightspot told him; a flick of her tail dismissed the entire idea. Then she looked at the universal translator and added, "I think it would be easier, though, if your machine didn't translate so well. You seem to speak our language, so we think you know other things, too."

  "A point well taken, Brightspot," Kirk said. "However, our mission to your world is an urgent one. Without the universal translator, it would take us weeks, even months, perhaps, to learn enough to ask even stupid questions, let alone the urgent ones."

  "Why not start with the urgent ones, then?"

  Kirk rubbed the side of his head ruefully. "I did."

  "Oh," she said. "Ask me. Even if I lose my temper too, I can't hit as hard as Stiff Tail. I'll remember you ask baby questions, I promise. And if I don't know the answer, I'll ask Stiff Tail. I have a very hard head."

  From any other Sivaoan in camp, Jim Kirk would have considered the offer a godsend. Instead, he held up his hands and shook his head. "Thank you, Brightspot, but we can't do that. We're guests in your mother's camp and, by my custom, it wouldn't be right to cause trouble between you and your mother."

  She drooped from ear tip to tail tip. "I think I understand," she said sadly. "I'm not angry at you, but I'm sorry I can't help."

  "You have helped- a great deal. And you can help us still more," Kirk assured her and saw her tail straighten with pride. "Keep answering our baby questions."

  "All right," she said. She gave his cheek a last feathery caress. Glancing at the smoke hole, she said, "It's getting dark...time for bed. Evan Wilson, do you still want to spend the night with me?"

  "Do I?" said Wilson. She leapt to her feet. "Lead the way, Brightspot- nothing short of Stiff Tail could stop me!"

  "Stiff Tail says it's okay. You should bring some usefuls, though; it gets cold. And you really don't have much fur," Brightspot finished apologetically.

  Wilson grinned. "I know.... Usefuls?"

  Brightspot pointed at the pile of brightly colored fabrics Wilson had been sitting on. Wilson snatched twice and flourished the results. One "useful" bore a design of stylized flowers in blue and gold, the other a geometric pattern of intertwined helices. Both shone in the firelight. Wilson looked down at them and said, "I do like a world where something that beautiful is called a useful!"

  A wrinkle twitched through the fur along Brightspot's side; it seemed to be her equivalent of a shrug. "Useful for making a swagger-lair," she said, "or a tent, or for keeping you warm at night." But she seemed pleased by Wilson's delight. Then she uncurled her tail to gesture Wilson away.

  Kirk rose to follow. "A swagger-lair," he said to Brightspot. "This I have to see." The rest of the landing crew were not far behind.

  They walked to the edge of the clearing. The sky was darkening rapidly now, and the light of campfires twinkled cheerfully in the dusk. A song, as sweet as the smell of the wood fires, drifted on the wind. Brightspot pointed with her tail. "Rushlight camps outside the clearing," she said. "That way - turn left at the stream and follow the song."

  Uhura nodded at her, then she said, "Oh, look, Captain! How beautiful!"

  He followed her gesture. Some half dozen of the tents were lit from within; they glowed a rich profusion of color, like pavilions in a fairy tale.

  "Remarkable," said Spock, "It would seem they have a form of artificial lighting."

  Jim Kirk frowned slightly at his first officer, then looked again. Spock was right: the interior lighting did not have the flicker of candles or firelight. Spock was also, all too often, unnecessarily pragmatic.

  "This way, Evan Wilson," said Brightspot.

  Her voice came from somewhere above his head; he looked up to find her ten feet up the side of a tree and still climbing. Her claws sent tiny shreds of bark down on them all. Jim Kirk shielded his eyes and peered into the deepening darkness. Brightspot's swagger-lair, some thirty feet from the ground, was little more than a hammock: one useful stretched from branch to branch of two adjacent trees. And the trees rose straight and slender for twenty feet before they branched. "Evan," he said, "how do you propose to climb that without claws?"

  Brightspot clung to the lowest branch and looked down, tail twitching. "Oh, Evan Wilson! You don't have claws!"

  "Keep going, Brightspot," Wilson said, as she shook out her usefuls and tied them at her throat. "I may not have claws, but I come from a long line of the best tree climbers nature ever invented- and I haven't forgotten their techniques." With a sidelong smile at Kirk, she wrapped her arms and legs about the trunk and began to shinny up.

  Brightspot stared. "That's neat!" she said. "I couldn't do that!"

  "You couldn't?" said Wilson in surprise. Like a double cape, the two usefuls billowed out behind her in the soft night breeze.

  Brightspot had resumed her climb. Now she reached the level of her swagger-lair and sprang in; it bulged from her weight and swung precariously back and forth. Just as Wilson reached the first of the branches, Brightspot peered over the edge at her. "No," said Brightspot, "my legs don't bend that way."

  "Oh, I see," said Wilson, now hanging upside down from the branch that supported one side of the shelter. She made a quick swing and brought herself to a sitting position, perched on the tree limb. She sat for a moment and caught her breath. Then she said, "Now comes the tricky part.... How much sudden shock of weight can that take, Brightspot?"

  Brightspot said, "If it won't take four of us jumping into it at once, I didn't do it right."

  "Good enough," said Wilson. "Any etiquette I should know?"

  Brightspot thought, then she said, "No, you just come in."

  "Easier said than done," Kirk observed. "Tsk, tsk, Captain," Wilson said, "you have no faith. Watch and wonder!" She straightened suddenly, snatched the branch above her for balance, and slowly walked toward the swagger-lair. "Move a little to the right, Brightspot, if you will; I don't want to bash my host for my first act as a guest." As Brightspot shifted, Wilson stretched out her other hand, leaning dangerously, to grasp a branch from the adjacent tree. She tugged it for a moment and then swung abruptly into midair.

  Jim Kirk's stomach lurched.

  She landed in a great sprawl; the swagger-lair rocked with her impact and Brightspot shifted hastily to steady it. A moment later, Evan Wilson's face, almost luminous with delight, appeared at the edge. "Lieutenant Uhura," she called, "do you know the old lullabye 'Rockabye Baby'?"

  Uhura smiled up at her, equally radiant. "Yes, Doctor, I do."

  "Then I give you something to remember me by: I promise you'll think of me every time you sing it. Good night, Captain, all."

  Kirk laughed. "Good night. And Evan- don't fall out of bed!"

  "Don't pull my tail, Captain."

  Evan Wilson found herself chortling. The whole experience seemed so unreal, yet even the sway of the swagger-lair was pleasant in an odd, dreamlike way. When Brightspot stretched out her tail and drew a second useful arching over their heads to form a roof, it only added to the sensation, making her feel like a dam in a clamshell. Happy as a clam, she thought, and she chortled again.

  Brightspot said, "You're all loops! You like this!" Her voice in the darkness carried a note of surprise.

  She means, thought Evan, 'all smiles'. She said, "Yes, I do. I've never slept in a tree before, and I like new things."

  "Me too," admitted Brightspot. "Distant Smoke s
ays I have a to-Ennien tail, but Stiff Tail says I should be more cautious."

  "But she didn't mind my sharing your swagger-lair," said Wilson. "I wonder why?"

  "I know why," said Brightspot. "She thinks you'll talk more to me than you would to her."

  "Then what would you like to know? I'll answer almost anything I can."

  "Answer a baby question. I don't understand your names: you each seem to have several and you never fight about what someone calls you."

  "Quite honestly, Brightspot, I'd say it's a lot easier for someone to shame his name than for the name to shame him. But I think you mean customary use of names, and that varies from culture to culture. I can give you the short course that'll work with most of the Enterprise personnel...."