Scotty understood her immediately. He was at once enormously flattered and somewhat shocked by her offer. He said quickly but firmly, "Ye're a lady, Lieutenant. I wouldna ask...I know it wouldna be half th' joy for ye I'd find it. I'll not encourage ye, but I'll thank ye w' all my heart for the thought."
She said, "This is for you, Mr. Scott." She held out a small wrapped package and pressed it into his hand. "Thank you." With grave dignity, she turned and left, leaving Scotty puzzling over the item she'd given him.
When the door had closed behind her, Scotty sat down and unwrapped the package. It was a tape. He turned it over in his palm, as if this visual inspection would give some clue to its contents. When it did not, he slipped the tape into the computer and struck the play button.
At once, his quarters were filled with music. He recognized the joyeuse immediately, though it took him somewhat longer to place the second instrument as Rushlight's lute. Uhura's voice rang out from the tape, and it startled Scotty into a peal of laughter. He could hardly credit his ears. It was as ribald a song as he'd heard on any world- and twice as merry, for he'd never heard such a thing sung by someone with so clear, so full a voice.
By the time Uhura reached the chorus and her voice was joined by Evan Wilson's, Rushlight's and what could only have been Sunfall's, Scotty was roaring with joy and stamping his foot in time to the music. Aye, he thought, as his own private chorus began a second song, ye're a lady t' y'r fingertips, Uhura, but ye've the heart and th'style of a bard.
Scotty took out the bottle of Tau Cetiian verguzz with which Evan Wilson had, over his protests, replaced his Jubalan rum and poured himself a drink. The Enterprise might well be forty-eight hours from the nearest port for R and R, but shore leave was off to a rousing start.
Jim Kirk laid aside his finished report and frowned. In a few hours, the Enterprise would be in orbit, the first shore leave parties would be beaming down, and he would be expected to relax and enjoy himself. He was not looking forward to it. He had planned to spend a good deal of time with Evan, and now...He rose from the desk in his quarters and, without really thinking about it, headed down to sick bay.
In comparison to the last few times he had been there, the place seemed deserted. He glanced around for McCoy and, as he did, his eyes fell on a handful of sensors heaped on top of a cabinet. Odd that Evan and Spock never got around to those experiments, he thought. Given their mutual interest in the subject, the omission seemed almost deliberate. Certainly not for lack of time. She had a gift for using time to her advantage. He smiled ruefully to himself and added, I wish I'd done that.
From McCoy's office, a voice, sounding much harassed, called: "They're right where you left them, Spock. Be my guest."
"If you're looking for Spock, I think you'll find him in briefing room A. Brightspot cornered him with some physics questions."
"Lookin' for him," McCoy snorted, appearing at the door of his office. "Not me! Good kid, Brightspot, I hope she has a lot of questions.... Y'know, Jim, that's probably the only good thing Starfleet Command has done all year- lettin' us sign her on as supercargo till we head back to Sivao."
Thinking, They might have left us Evan, Jim Kirk nodded abstractedly. McCoy appraised him from head to toe and said, "Exactly as I thought," in a tone of voice that caught his attention where the scrutiny had not. Surprised, he said, "Problem, Bones?"
"You," said McCoy, "Spock," as if that said it all. Then, because it did not, he added, "I want you both in the first shore leave party."
"I don't think-" Kirk was about to say that shore leave was not what he needed, but McCoy reached to one side and drew out the quarterstaff Evan had given him. He advanced on Kirk, waggling the staff, and repeated, "I want you in the first shore leave party." There was nothing Kirk could do but laugh and acquiesce.
McCoy's expression softened. "Well, how about that?" he drawled. "It works!" He gave the staff an experimental swing and struck himself on the ankle. "Ow! Maybe I'd better practice up before tryin' it on Spock."
"Maybe you'd better," Kirk agreed and, thinking of Evan, he added critically, "The expression could use some practice too. I've seen fiercer."
"For Spock, I can manage. He's been drivin' me to distraction."
"That's normal."
McCoy raised an eyebrow. "Not this way, it isn't. He's been in and out of sick bay a dozen times, lookin' over Evan Wilson's log notes as if he expected to find somethin' new added each time. And I have had to answer some of the damndest questions about human behavior you ever heard!"
"Bones..."
"It's hardly my imagination, Jim! If you don't believe me, ask Scotty. He got the third degree from our Vulcan friend on the subject of 'her Jamie' and then spent another twenty minutes tryin' to explain why Evan would take Orsay's wish to turn space pirate as a compliment!"
That brought a smile to Jim Kirk's face. "Poor Spock! Just when he thought he had human beings all figured out.... Evan said Spock brought out the worst in her. You'd have enjoyed it- I believe she actually bedeviled him more than you do."
"She did a damn sight more than bedevil him. I think she's got him bewitched." Put in those terms, the idea clearly pleased McCoy. But then, sobering, he added, "All I know is that he doesn't often ask my opinion- not Spock. M'Benga assures me he's completely recovered from his pneumonia, so I can't attribute it to that. If it weren't Spock doin' it, I'd take it for broodin'- the same way you're broodin'. I don't know what to make of it."
"I'm not sure I'd call it brooding," Kirk said, somewhat defensively. But seeing that McCoy's concern was serious, he gave the matter some thought and hit upon the obvious solution. "I'll tell you what, Bones- if it doesn't insult your professional pride, why don't you ask for a second opinion?" He waited expectantly.
It took McCoy only a moment to catch on, then he laughed. "Evan Wilson," he said.
"Evan Wilson," Kirk confirmed, and he gestured McCoy toward the communications screen in his office.
"Just a minute, Jim. What about Spock?"
Kirk shook his head. If McCoy were really worried about Spock, he wanted Evan's genuine opinion, and he wouldn't get it if Spock were present. "Let's speak to Evan first," he said. "If she wants Spock, she'll ask for him. She's not shy."
"Hardly- but it wasn't Evan I was thinkin' about." At Kirk's look, McCoy finished, "All right, Evan first."
He led the way back into his office. While he pulled up an extra chair and- thoughtfully- brought out some brandy and glasses, Kirk had Uhura arrange the call. Several minutes went by, more slowly than usual, and just as he had decided his anticipation was coloring his judgment, Uhura said, "I'm sorry, sir. I can't seem to clear the interference- I have no idea what's causing it. It looks like some sort of jamming, but it's not strong enough to disrupt communications."
"Never mind, Lieutenant. If it's good enough to speak, carry on. We can worry about what's causing the problem later."
Within a moment, she said, "I have Dr. Wilson's office, sir."
"I'll take it here." He had no intention of exposing Spock to the kind of crew rumor McCoy's queries might launch.
The screen brightened. The interference pattern she complained of was distracting, to be sure; it spread across the entire screen like a glittering stylized star. He understood her puzzlement: it seemed too regular not to be deliberate, yet the image behind it was clear.
He saw a typical Starfleet sick bay, somewhat larger than the Enterprise's own. Smiling out at him was a tall slender black man dressed in a uniform identical to McCoy's. "Captain Kirk," he said. "This is an honor, sir. Forgive me for speaking from here," he gestured broadly around him, "but we're still cleaning up the last of the ADF cases- but you know all about that! What can I do for you, sir? Name it and it's yours!"
There was definitely something of Evan Wilson's manner in him. Almost sorry he didn't have a request to match the enthusiasm of the young man's offer, Jim Kirk shook his head. "Nothing so earth-shaking," he said, "I only wanted to speak to Dr. Evan Wilson."
The young man grinned, sketched a bow. "Well," he said, "here I am- and I repeat the offer." It was as if Jim Kirk held in his hands an antique Chinese puzzle, and with those words, the last piece snapped into place and he saw the whole. He heard again her responses as Spock questioned her background. He had the sudden and most surprising thought that she had never once lied, only misdirected.
McCoy said, "Damned interference is affectin' the sound, too. Better tell Uhura." He reached for the intercom.
Jim Kirk caught his hand. "Sit still, Bones. That's an order." His intentional sharpness stunned McCoy into silence. "I apologize for the static, Dr. Wilson," he said smoothly, to the stranger on the screen. "This mission has been something of a strain"- he smiled- "and I'm afraid my crew is still blowing off steam."
The young man shook his head. "Don't apologize, Captain. I wouldn't dare tell you what I intend to do once I get all these vaccinations finished- but I assure you blowing off steam is the least of it!"
"Then I won't keep you long, Doctor." Kirk sought a plausible explanation for his call and found one: "This is something of a spot check- to convince Dr. McCoy that the Sivaoan solution is still working."
"Elath, yes!" He glanced slightly to Kirk's left. "Dr. McCoy?"- and when McCoy nodded in a disconcerted fashion, he went on, "I've got about a hundred patients that owe you and the Wilson-Chapel serum their lives, sir. As for the Sivaoan solution- damn, but you people are good!- it's nothing short of a miracle!" He lapsed into medical jargon that kept McCoy nodding for some time. Only someone who knew Bones well could have told that his interest was feigned.
When the image on the screen had finished, McCoy thanked him politely; so did Jim Kirk. The young man shook his head vehemently: "Don't thank me- let me thank you!" - again he sketched a bow- "You people did all the work! Keep me in mind, Captain, Dr. McCoy, if there's ever anything I can do for you. I owe you big!"
Having assured him they would, Kirk terminated the conversation. The screen went dark, but Jim Kirk continued to stare at it for a long moment. He found himself grinning because a Telamonite had sworn by a goddess- and wondered if the young man also used a quarterstaff. That he thought somehow unlikely, but he wished he could have asked.
"Just who the hell is he?" demanded McCoy, rising indignantly to his feet, "and where's Evan? Call Starfleet Command, Jim, and tell them they've got an impostor on their hands!" Jim Kirk opened his mouth, but could think of nothing to say, and closed it again. McCoy glared at him, then snapped, "Well, if you won't do something about him, I most certainly will." Once again, he reached for the intercom.
"You believe him an impostor," said a voice from behind them. "Fascinating." And they both turned, McCoy distracted from his intent, to find Spock watching them with open interest. Beside him, bristling with alarm, stood Brightspot. There was no way to tell how long they had been there, but Jim Kirk knew their presence was much more than coincidence.
"What would you call it, Spock?" McCoy growled. "I grant you, he does it well- even sounds a bit like her- but he's certainly not in her league."
"Oh lord," said Jim Kirk, without meaning to, "you can say that again!" Spock raised an eyebrow at him; and, inordinately pleased to have so surprised his first officer, Kirk went on, "You tell him, Spock. I don't have the heart."
"You're tryin' to say there's some other explanation? Then let's hear it, Spock. I'm waitin'."
Spock said evenly, "I believe Brightspot is prepared to offer one, Doctor."
That explains the odd interference pattern, Kirk thought, Another flag- one designed to be easily seen by a Sivaoan eye. Brightspot's tail shivered, and Kirk said reassuringly, "Don't be afraid, Brightspot. Just tell us what you know."
"You ccalled Dr. Evan Wilsson...."
"We did, dammit," said McCoy. "We didn't get her." He was dangerously near another explosion, and Brightspot bristled more noticeably.
"Take it easy, Bones," said Kirk, firmly enough to interrupt the momentum of McCoy's outrage. "Don't scare her."
"I have no intention of scarin' her. I just want to know what this is all about. Now, will somebody please get on with it?"
"Ccaptain-?" Brightspot began again, hesitantly. "Tail-Kinkker ssaid you wouldn't be angry at me-"
"No one's angry at you," Kirk said soothingly, and she paused to preen her shoulder. While her fur settled, Kirk kept a wary eye on McCoy to prevent a further outburst.
At last Brightspot said, "- But she ssaid you'd probably be very angry at her. Ccaptain, don't be, please." Her tail rose hopefully.
"I promise you I'll do my best. Tail-Kinker is my friend too, remember?" He smiled.
The small joke reassured her more than anything else he might have done. She straightened herself to attention, took a deep breath, and said, "I have a message from Tail-Kinkker to-Ennien to those who ccalled Dr. Evan Wilsson." Her unblinking stare surveyed them all; her tail shivered once more.
