"You can't tell your troubles to me," she said. "Oh, I'm not angry with you about that. Evan explained it to me. But I wanted to help anyway. Last night, I asked some people, and this morning I asked Stiff Tail about the... You-Know-Whos."
He stiffened, and Brightspot said defensively, "You asked Stiff Tail! I'm allowed to be curious!" Her tail twitched briefly within his grasp.
"Is that why she cuffed you?" he asked sympathetically.
Brightspot nodded. "And then she told me I was a kid and I shouldn't stick my tail into adult matters. So I didn't learn anything at all...." Her whiskers drooped again.
"Thank you for trying, Brightspot. It was very kind of you."
She shook her head. "I didn't help, and I made things worse. I asked Fetchstorm because he's really nosy and sometimes he knows things he's not supposed to."
"How could that hurt?"
"I had to trade him. I had to tell him all about Evan and your names- that's why he miscalled her. He hurt her, and it's my fault." She glared and added, "And he didn't even know the answer to my question!"
"No, Brightspot!" She blinked at his vehemence and he said, more softly, but just as firmly, "Dr. Wilson fights her own battles. You are not to blame for what happened. In fact, Dr. Wilson seems inordinately proud of herself for having fought Fetchstorm. She thinks she won."
"She was hurt!"
"So was Fetchstorm," he pointed out. "From the squawk he made, I venture to guess that his ear will be sore for a week. And he apologized to her for his behavior."
Brightspot nodded. "We aren't supposed to fight with you."
"Wilson was not supposed to fight with Fetchstorm either. I 'cuffed' her for her behavior the way Stiff Tail cuffed Fetchstorm."
She cocked her ears at him. "I didn't see..."
"Because I cuffed her with words, Brightspot. Among my people that has the same effect as your mother's slap has on you."
Brightspot's tail began to curl again. "Then she's not angry at me?" He shook his head firmly. "Not at all. Ask her if you doubt me."
That shocked her. "I wouldn't doubt you, Captain!"
"Good," he said and smiled. "Now I could use your help with some more baby questions...." She instantly clasped her hands, while her tail looped cheerfully around his wrist and squeezed.
"Tell me about your religion," he began carefully, as if clasping his own hands against possible misinterpretation. And when she clearly did not understand his use of the word, he talked around the subject until at last she said, "Oh, way of living! You should talk to Left Ear. She knows all about it." She tugged his wrist with her tail. "Come on, I'll introduce you." Kirk followed, only a tail loop behind.
Chapter Nine
Uhura had done as Brightspot suggested, and it was a good thing she had- Rushlight later said he would indeed have been angry had she not explained her own customs and agreed to abide by his. They spent their evening trading songs and learning about each other. He was almost as delighted by her earrings as she was to learn that he too had perfect pitch. He had not understood her joy in that until she explained that Chekov whistled off-key; at that, his tail looped and he said, "Think of him as welcome-homes. Deafness does not dampen his enthusiasm any more than it does Brightspot's." And she, smiling, had to agree.
By then, the hour was late. "Let us sleep on shared songs," Rushlight had said and, thinking it unwise to pressure him, Uhura had agreed.
When she awoke, to her dismay, Rushlight was nowhere to be found. Disturbed and disappointed, she sought Spock and, once again, he had given her the courage to persevere. She would keep at it; she would find a way to help Sunfall and Christine and all the others.
Uhura introduced herself to one of Chekov's budding shelter builders and asked the whereabouts of Rushlight. The child, CopperEye to-Srallansre, who came only waist high to her if one didn't count his ears, said, "He's hunting- will you sing me a song?"
His whiskers quivered so eagerly that she could not disappoint him. Drawing out her joyeuse, she obliged with a lively air popular with Eeiauoan children. He was more than satisfied, and she soon gathered a crowd of children, equally eager for songs. At the edge of the crowd hung one young adult, the "masked" Sivaoan Uhura had first spoken to; curiously, Jinx to-Ennien seemed afraid to join the rest.
At the end of the song, one of CopperEye's friends poked him with her tail. "Maybe we should give her something?"
"I don't know," said CopperEye.
"Seems right," said the other. "Go ahead."
CopperEye said shyly. "Should we give you something? Because you sang just for us?"
Uhura said thoughtfully, "I don't know what's proper in your customs. In my custom, I sing for the joy of singing. I don't even need an audience, but shared joy is doubled."
CopperEye's friend turned- reluctantly, it seemed- and called to Jinx. "Should we give her something, Jinx? Her custom or ours?"
Uhura waited for Jinx's answer. When it came, Jinx spoke so quietly she could barely hear. "Please, Jinx," said Uhura, motioning to her. "Come closer."
Jinx started to obey, but CopperEye said hastily, "She said 'Our custom- to be safe.' You really couldn't hear her?"
"No, my ears are not as sharp as yours, CopperEye."
CopperEye looked her over critically. He nodded, "Too small, I guess."
Uhura smiled. "That's a matter of opinion, CopperEye. Perhaps your ears are too large."
He flicked them back in surprise.
While he considered that, Uhura motioned once again to Jinx. "Please," she said, "it is apparent that I do not hear as well as you. But you're right- I should follow your custom. I am a guest in your camp. If you would be kind enough to explain what I must do in order to be polite, I would be very grateful."
CopperEye's friend jabbed him with a tail tip. "Not Jinx," she whispered. Jinx heard the unmistakable emphasis as clearly as Uhura did and, whiskers and tail drooping, she began to slink away.
CopperEye said, "Stupid!" He cuffed his friend, who hissed and backed.
"Wait," said Uhura to the pair- and, more loudly, "Jinx, please don't go! Please!" To her relief, Jinx stopped, waited with frightened eyes. Uhura looked again at the two young ones. "Listen carefully," she said to them. "This is one custom of my own by which I must abide. I do not know Jinx, but she has never done anything to harm me. I don't know what she has done to hurt you, little one...."
The little gray Sivaoan lashed her tail and said, with a sullen look at CopperEye, "Jinx hasn't hurt me!"
"Then why.?"
"She's just Jinx," CopperEye said, as if that explained everything.
Uhura wondered if it did. "CopperEye, a long time ago- long before your grandmother's grandmother was born- people might have said that of me. There were people then who would, without even knowing so much about me as my name, have told me to go away because of the color of my skin."
That brought about the ears-back look of pure amazement from all of them. "But everybody has different-colored skin. Look!" He turned his palms up- so did the rest. One of CopperEye's palms was gray, the other pink. His friend's were pink with three black fingers. "That would be silly!"
"Yes, it would. And it would be just as silly for me to turn Jinx away because 'She's just Jinx'. I want to get to know her before I decide I don't like her." Uhura raised her head to address Jinx directly. "Maybe I'll find a friend."
Jinx's ears perked, then flicked back in surprise. "Will you come, Jinx, and tell me how to be polite in your custom?" She looked down at the two others. "Will you invite her, too? To share the joy of a song is to double it."
CopperEye looked at Uhura, at his friend and then at Jinx. "Come on, Jinx"- he nudged his friend with his tail- "Say something to her, SilverTail. It's your fault!"
"Is not," said SilverTail, her tail lashing. But she too turned and said, "Please come, Jinx. I'm sorry I was stupid. CopperEye makes me say stupid things all the time."
The outrageousness of this got her cuffed again and ended in a knock-down, drag-out fight between the two. By the time the fight had come to its natural end, Jinx had pulled together the courage to join the group. Some moved a little away from her, Uhura saw, but CopperEye- alternately washing his shoulder and SilverTail's-said, "You tell her, Jinx. She's a bard and she doesn't know she's a bard."
Uhura looked up at the young female who seemed so like Sunfall of Ennien.
"Among our people," Jinx began, "a bard is a very special person. Isn't this true among your people as well?"
"Yes," said Uhura, "but I'm not a bard, not professionally. I sing because I love to sing."
"Then, forgive me, but there's something wrong with the way you use the word- if you love to sing and you sing with such beauty, then by our standards you're a bard."
"All right," said Uhura, smiling. "What must I do- as a bard- to follow your customs?"
"You sang a song for CopperEye- at his request. Now he wishes to know what he may do for you in return."
Uhura spread her hands. "I have no idea what sort of return to ask, CopperEye. I don't know the fair return for a song on your world."
CopperEye said, "I can gather wood for your fire, or get water for your cooking pot, or- I know where the best silverberries are"- this caused a mild sensation - "and I could pick you a basketful."
Uhura turned it all over in her mind. The group waited breathlessly for her to choose. At last, she said, "Could you help me learn your language, CopperEye? Would that be fair?"
"But you speak our language!"
Uhura shook her head and explained the universal translator in the simplest possible terms. Then she turned it off to demonstrate. Amazement ran through their ears in great waves of movement.
CopperEye said something and Jinx translated in the Old Tongue, which Uhura did understand. "He says that's fair."
"Good," said Uhura. "Would you be kind enough to ask him how to say, 'What is that called?'"
Jinx did and CopperEye said something, pronouncing it very slowly and clearly. Uhura repeated it, adding to Jinx, "Please, ask him to correct me if I get it wrong. I have no wish to learn half way."
Jinx translated. CopperEye nodded at Uhura, solemnly.
Uhura turned the translator back on. "I will make the same agreement with all of you," she said. "I will sing whenever you ask me if, in return, you will all help me learn your language." She smiled. "I shall wander all over your camp, pointing and saying, 'What is that called?'- and I shall make a terrible nuisance of myself, I promise. I shall be worse than your brother or sister because I have to be told everything. And, probably, I shall have to be told everything three times. Are my songs worth that much trouble in return?"
"Oh, yes!" said CopperEye and, to Uhura's immense joy, there seemed to be general agreement on that subject.
"Good," she said. "Then you must first teach me how to ask for a song, so I'll understand you when you do. And then you will tell your names for different kinds of song, so I can sing one that will please you."
Uhura sang for hours and for hours the children taught her their language. Once, she asked Jinx to explain a word. Jinx looked at her in surprise. Uhura said, instantly, "I'm sorry, Jinx. I thought you agreed to the bargain as well."
Ears still back, Jinx said, "I didn't know I was included."
"Of course you are. I thought that was understood. Will you help me learn in return for songs?"
"Oh, yes!" Her silver gray tail looped in pure joy.
Soon the afternoon sun began to beat down, and they all moved to the shade of the forest. Several of the younger ones wandered off to do chores, to be replaced by others who, apprised of the bargain, readily agreed to join in.
"You have not eaten," Jinx pointed out at last. "We should give her a rest," she announced to the others. "Even the best bard's voice tires."
With all the expected reluctance of children, they agreed, and the crowd slowly dissipated back to camp. Jinx lingered behind.
Uhura put away her joyeuse, rose and stretched her cramped muscles. "What is it, Jinx?" she asked. The young female was disturbed about something. "What troubles you?"
"Would you- would you eat with me?" Jinx seemed to steel herself for a refusal.
"I'd be delighted," said Uhura. "It's very sweet of you to invite me." Jinx seemed so startled by this that for a moment Uhura was afraid she might bolt like a frightened deer. She didn't, so Uhura said, "Please, lead the way." Jinx did, her step light, almost dancing now. Her resemblance to Sunfall was even more marked in the supple grace of her movements. Uhura fought back tears at the thought.
