Uhuras song, p.41
Uhura's Song, page 41
“I understand,” she said, “I didn’t know Sstarfleet had people like CcloudShape. I’m glad for you.” She arched her whiskers forward. “I’m glad for me too; I never met a real one before!”
McCoy exploded, “Never met a real what before?” and Brightspot jumped back, to peer at him from behind Kirk.
“Trickster,” she said. “Is that the right word, Mr. Sspock?”
“I believe the term is accurate in this instance,” Spock said.
McCoy glared at Spock, glared at Kirk. “What the hell are you all talkin’ about?”
Very gently, Kirk said, “She’s the impostor, Bones.”
“She’s a doctor, dammit, not an impostor!” McCoy glared at them all again.
“The captain did not say she was not a doctor,” Spock pointed out, “only that she was not Dr. Evan Wilson.”
This mollified McCoy not at all. He poured himself a glass of brandy, downed it and resumed his glaring. Jim Kirk studied his old friend with considerable amusement and no little sympathy. Then he said, “What about that call to Starfleet Command, Bones? Still want to make it?”
His mind still bent on outrage, McCoy did not at first grasp the import of the question. When he did, he looked shocked. “Lord, no, Jim!” he said. “Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Unless, of course, you intend that as an order, Captain.”
Jim Kirk laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “No, Bones, no!” he protested. “There’s no need to take my name in vain! Although this does raise certain problems.”
“Such as what?” McCoy’s manner was still defensive.
“Such as how I request a commendation for someone who wasn’t officially here.”
McCoy dropped his defensiveness, chuckled. “I see what you mean, Jim. Y’know, you mentioned somethin’ about commendations for Brightspot and Another StarFreedom. Seems to me Tail-Kinker to-Ennien is just as deservin’—and what Starfleet assumes is up to Starfleet.”
“Misdirection,” said Kirk thoughtfully, and McCoy stared back at him with such innocence that he couldn’t resist adding, “I might think she’d been a bad influence on my senior officers, if I didn’t know them as well as I do.”
His innocence clearly injured by this, McCoy said, “I have a report of my own to write.” His southern accent flared up, as it so often did when he was planning some mischief: “Just makin’ sure there are no discrepancies….”
“No,” Kirk said smiling, “I don’t foresee any discrepancies. Do you, Mr. Spock?”
“Oh, Lord,” groaned McCoy, “I forgot: Vulcans don’t lie!” He advanced on Spock—and Kirk braced himself for one more diatribe on the heartlessness of Vulcans. Instead McCoy said, “Your behavior’s been a bit unusual lately, Mr. Spock. How are you feelin’ Why don’t I just check you into sick bay—don’t worry about your report, Jim can take care of that—so I can do a few tests. At a guess, I’d say you’re not fully recovered….”
Spock froze him with a glance. “Your concern is unnecessary, Doctor. My report mentions Dr. Wilson only in the capacity of acting chief medical officer.”
“Well,” said McCoy, “so far so good. But suppose somebody asks him, Jim? What then?”
Kirk looked at his first officer’s unreadable face and knew, with a sudden surety, that Spock had tripped the last of Evan’s flags deliberately, to warn her that he was aware of her imposture, and that he had kept silent even when Evan ignored his warning to finish what she had started. “Even a Vulcan’s patience won’t last forever,” he quoted. There was no change in Spock’s expression. Kirk went on, “Don’t worry about it, Bones. Starfleet won’t know the right questions to ask—will they, Mr. Spock?”
“It would seem unlikely, Captain.”
“I didn’t even ask the right question.” Jim Kirk folded his arms across his chest and, smiling, said, “Let’s have it, Spock. What do you know about…our Evan Wilson that I don’t?”
“Very little, Captain, and it is at most conjecture.”
McCoy’s jaw dropped but all that came out was the single word, “Spock!”
Kirk said, “I’m willing to entertain conjecture, Mr. Spock. Continue.”
“Your own speculation, Captain, led me to investigate the history of the Bodner lines. Your intuition proved correct.”
“Bodner lines,” said McCoy, “aren’t they something in the Enterprise innards?” He eyed Spock warily. “I don’t get it, Jim. What’s this got to do with Evan?”
Kirk said, “Evan asked Scotty to check out the Bodner lines on her skiff. I don’t get it either, Spock.”
“Bear with me a moment. The Bodner lines, doctor, were developed five years ago to replace the older, much less reliable Wascoli lines. They are called Bodner lines because their design drew heavily on the computer simulation work of Martha R. Bodner. It is a curious fact, however, that during the development of the lines that bear her name, Lieutenant Martha R. Bodner of Starfleet Science Division was elsewhere, engaged in a quite different project.”
“Are you seriously suggesting that our Evan Wilson also designed the Bodner lines?”
“I am, Captain. I took the liberty of speaking to Lieutenant Chris Megson, who assisted on that project. I have every reason to believe that our ‘Evan Wilson,’ as you put it, and his ‘Martha Bodner’ are one and the same.”
“Good grief, Spock! Let’s not tell Scotty—I have no idea how he’d take it!”
Spock fell silent. For a moment the silence lengthened, then McCoy said, “That’s all? All that time you were doin’ research and that’s all you found out? You are slippin’, Spock!”
“Bones …”
“Dammit, Jim, now he’s got me curious!”
Spock said, “I shall of course continue my investigation.”
“You’ll do nothin’ of the sort!” McCoy said.
And Spock raised a brow. “Really, Doctor, I find your abrupt change of attitude most illogical. First you berate me for my lack of information—and now you insist I discontinue my investigations?” He turned to Kirk for assistance.
Kirk said, “I’m as curious as you are, Spock, but Bones is right—there’s too much risk to go poking around in her background.” Brightspot’s ears flicked back, and he added hastily, “I mean, risk to Evan, Brihtspot. We may not be angry at her, but I couldn’t say the same for Starfleet Command if they found out what she’s been up to.”
“Oh!” said Brightspot and a ridge of fur at the nape of her neck rose briefly, then smoothed. Solemnly, she said, “I’ll tell it only with my tail,” and her tail corkscrewed.
“I take it that’s a promise,” Kirk said smiling. “Spock?”
“Captain, you yourself suggested I should not wish to…disappoint her.”
“I thought she was pulling your tail. I didn’t realize she was pulling mine and Starfleet’s,” Kirk began.
McCoy, who had been watching Spock, interrupted: “What d’you mean, Spock?”
“You do not speak Vulcan; consequently, you assume—as she no doubt intended you to assume—that her last words to me were ‘Live long and prosper.’ They were not, as your own medical log would verify if you so desire it.”
“Medical log,” McCoy repeated.
And Spock clarified, “Specifically, that portion of it describing the memory that Tail-Kinker to-Ennien drew from my mind.”
“I read the damned thing three times,” growled McCoy, “tryin’ to figure out what you were lookin’ for.”
Kirk too had read Evan’s report. He seldom heard anything in the way of personal memories from Spock and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. To Brightspot, he explained, “Mr. Spock taught Evan a kind of Vulcan hide-and-seek….”
He straightened suddenly and, with dawning amazement, stared at Spock. Twice he had heard the formal words that began the game: once in Evan’s meticulous description, and the second time—the second time, only moments ago, as she raised her hand in the Vulcan salute. “Oh lord, Bones,” he burst out, “She dared him to find her!”
“She dared him…!” McCoy began—and finished, gaping.
“The word dare is hardly appropriate,” Spock said. “The phrase is rather an invitation or a declaration of intent.” He looked thoughtful, added, “Given her manner, however, I do find it understandable that a human would interpret this as a challenge.”
McCoy beamed at him and drawled, “And you’re goin’ to take her up on it.” Brightspot, echoing his good humor, wrapped her tail around his arm. He patted it jovially. “Well, well, Mr. Spock…I believe there’s hope for you yet!”
Spock stared back at him with utter incomprehension, and Jim Kirk knew that any explanation of his own or McCoy’s delight would only serve to baffle him further. “Never mind, Spock,” he said, “You may continue your investigation. Keep it discreet, and keep us posted on the results … informally, of course.”
“Of course, Captain.”
It was so seriously said that Jim Kirk could not resist adding, with a smile, “Far be it from me to spoil your fun.” And to his great surprise, for once Spock made no objection to his choice of words.
THE FUTURE IS NOW WITH THE 2001
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Janet Kagan, Uhura's Song
