Brightspot puttered about the lab, careful not to disturb anything. For a while, she peered over Winding Path's shoulder and he wrapped his tail affectionately around her, though he neither looked up nor spoke.
At last she wandered back to Kirk and said, in a quiet voice, "You understand that?" Her tail flicked toward Spock and Stiff Tail.
"I'm afraid it's beyond me," he admitted. "You?"
She shook her head, and this time she meant the gesture for a negative. "I like to put things together- or take them apart. Especially tricorders," she added, giving him an impish look. "I'm going to find Evan. Do you want to come?"
It might be a good idea to leave Spock to his rapport with Stiff Tail. He nodded. As he turned to say his good-byes, Brightspot raised the tip of her tail to bar her mouth, a silencing gesture as clear as any human laying an index finger to her lips for silence. Trusting her knowledge of local etiquette, Kirk followed without another word. Stepping into the dappled sunlight, Jim Kirk found himself face-to-.face? with a large creature that looked something like a cross between a donkey and a moss-covered rock outcrop beside a stream. He must have startled it as much as it did him, for it took a single four-footed hop backward, stared at him balefully through long tufts of shaggy green fur, and began to hiccup loudly.
"Oh, don't be a dope," Brightspot said to it. "You'd think he was a slashback." She made shooing motions. "Go on, go. Run home before he eats you."
The creature gave three more hiccups and dashed across the clearing to hiccup urgently to a Sivaoan. The Sivaoan patted it absentmindedly and continued with the business of striking her tent.
"Did it scare you?" Brightspot asked. "Oh, but you've never seen one before! It's a quickens. They're not too bright but they're fast, especially if something scares them. They run straight home, right into your tent if you're not careful, so you can protect them from shadows."
Kirk laughed. The creature's hiccups made keeping a straight face impossible- made keeping a straight tail impossible, too, to judge from Brightspot's reaction. Another Sivaoan led a second quickens from the wood; it followed the first's baleful glances in Kirk's direction and added its own intermittent hiccups to those of the first. Two Sivaoans paused in their packing to reassure the beasts, then loaded them with tents and goods and mounted.
"Where are they going, Brightspot?"
"I don't know. They were angry at Stiff Tail and didn't tell her. HotSpring to-Allanien left this morning too. Better to leave than fight," she finished, "at least with Stiff Tail." She glanced at him uncertainly, as if unsure whether to be proud or ashamed of her mother's reputation, then glanced away, as if she had decided against Stiff Tail in this instance.
Before he could make up his mind to inquire further, she said sharply, "He's doing it again! This time he's going to make real trouble!"
He was Fetchstorm. Not twenty feet away from them, he stood glaring down at the seated Wilson, the tip of his tail shivering.
"Human," she said. It was without doubt a correction to something Fetchstorm had just said.
Kirk and Brightspot were just close enough for the universal translator to catch the remainder of the exchange. "Head fur," said Fetchstorm in an acid tone.
Evan Wilson rose to her feet; it brought her to equal height with the top of his skull. With exaggerated care, she folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. Fetchstorm thumped the ground with his tail. "Head fur," he repeated.
Wilson said, very clearly and very loudly, "You have the manners of a fuzz-brain."
Fetchstorm pounced. Wilson went down beneath him, knocking the camp stool aside.
"Stiff Tail!" yelled Brightspot and turned and ran back the way they'd come, still calling for her mother.
Kirk reached for his phaser but froze. He did not dare use his weapon on a member of the camp. He raced forward, hoping to pull Fetchstorm off Wilson before he could hurt her.
Fetchstorm and Wilson rolled on the ground. Fetchstorm had caught her in the local fighting hug. He had his claws sunk into her back. But Wilson caught his head and thrust it down, pushing it into his chest with both her arms. The maneuver kept the vicious teeth trapped between their bodies, well away from her throat.
Her legs were longer than Fetchstorm's, and she kicked him hard in the stomach, keeping his hind claws well away from her own body.
Kirk reached for them just as Wilson managed to roll them over. She knelt on Fetchstorm's belly as his hind legs flailed wildly. "For Elath, stay out, Captain!" she panted at him. "He's a kid!"
He had no doubt she meant it, but how could he stand by and let her be mauled?
The pair rolled away from him. Fetchstorm, unable to bite, flung his hindquarters back to try to bring his feet up inside hers. Wilson followed, swung and wrapped her legs around his belly and hung on as she had to the tree. Fetchstorm kicked air wildly.
Wilson gave another sudden thrust, pushed his head further down, and bit his ear- hard.
Fetchstorm squawked, released his claws and thrust away from her. She released just as quickly and rolled backward, coming up in ready position.
Kirk stepped between the two, steeling himself to take the brunt of Fetchstorm's next assault.
Nothing happened. Fetchstorm turned his back on the two of them and began to preen his fur.
Wilson went limp, took an enormous breath. Without taking his eyes off Fetchstorm, Kirk caught her by the shoulders. She grinned up at him, closed her eyes briefly and exhaled.
Fetchstorm started toward them, and Kirk tensed, but there was no threat in the youngster's approach. He stood before them and looked Wilson up and down. "Human," he said, and he offered her his tail.
"Thanks, Fetchstorm," said Wilson. "You put up a good fight, but it was important to me."
"Yes," he said. "Shall I wash you? Stiff Tail says your customs are very different from ours. Your fighting is!"
"From what I've seen of your tongue, it'd probably be rougher on me than your fighting, but I appreciate the offer. I'll just go down to the stream and splash a little water on to take off the dust. You'd better see to your own pelt, though. You look a mess." She drew clawlike fingers through her dusty hair. "I should talk." She pulled out a comb, as Fetchstorm twisted to preen his shoulder again. There was a snag in his fur he could not quite reach, and Wilson said, "Here, let me get that for you, Fetchstorm, if it's okay." He nodded, combining the human gesture with the Sivaoan ears-back surprise. She stepped away from Kirk's supporting arm to run her comb through the snag. Fetchstorm remained twisted to watch.
Kirk felt damp with relief, then glanced at his arm. His sleeve was matted with blood. "Evan, your back!"
"Hurts like hell," she admitted. "How bad is it?"
"How should I know? You're the doctor!" He drew her away from Fetchstorm to look. The back of her uniform was ripped nearly in two. Two long deep sets of slash marks stretched from the base of her neck outward to her shoulders. They oozed blood.
"Evan!" It was Brightspot. "I'll get Catchclaw." And she was gone again.
Kirk righted the camp stool with one hand and pushed her onto it with the other. "Tell me what to do," he said.
"Unless it's bleeding badly, we might as well wait for the doctor. And stop making such a fuss. I've been hurt worse in saber practice."
"Is that wise?"
"What- Catchclaw? You let her work on you."
This was not the best of times to discuss the abilities of the local doctors Kirk realized. The fight had drawn a crowd.
Stiff Tail pushed him aside to examine Wilson's back and shoulders. With her tail, she snatched at Fetchstorm and made him look as well. Then she cuffed him soundly.
Wilson half rose in indignation. "It was a fair fight, Stiff Tail, and it was between the two of us. The matter is settled."
"Fetchstorm was told not to fight because you are fragile creatures and because your customs are unknown. He disobeyed." She stared and Wilson sat down again, resigned to her logic. Stiff Tail went on, "Is it your custom to fight in this fashion?"
"We sometimes brawl for fun but we ordinarily take precautions like padded clothing." She chuckled, "As Fetchstorm noticed, we don't have a layer of fur to protect us from claws."
"You have no claws and no teeth -"
"I have teeth. Check Fetchstorm's ear."
Stiff Tail did. "You left no marks."
"I didn't think I had to."
The crowd parted to let Catchclaw through. Even McCoy's growl couldn't compete with that, thought Kirk, especially when she saw the wounds on Evan's back. Then with much tut-tutting in softer tones to Evan, she set to work; Jinx handed her various items without comment. Stiff Tail gave one last wary look at Wilson, then turned to Spock. "Your companion is no longer in danger-shall we continue our conversation?"
"Go ahead, Spock. I'll keep an eye on her." Kirk meant Catchclaw, but Spock's nod was at Wilson.
Wilson grunted; whether in response to Spock's eye or the salve Catchclaw spread on her wounds, Kirk couldn't tell. Catchclaw said, "Keep it clean. Stay out of fights. I doubt Cloud-Shape would know what to do if you break a bone. And see me after evening meal." She growled a few additional comments that seemed to have to do with Wilson's anatomy but which the universal translator refused to translate and stamped away.
The excitement was over. The others went back to their business, and Kirk found himself alone with Wilson. "Well, Dr. Wilson," he began.
"Fetchstorm started it," she said immediately. Then, in a more serious tone, she added, "Captain, I apologize, but I could not let a general slur on humans pass without note. Here, names mean something."
"I won't have my ship's doctor picking fights with the natives."
She lifted her chin with an expression of injured pride. "Yes, Captain. I shall consider myself cuffed."
He smiled. "Good," he said, and only then did he let himself express the concern he felt. "Dammit, Evan, you could have been killed!"
She shook her head. "No, Captain. When kids fight, they break away if anybody squawks. Remember yesterday- the fight between Fetchstorm and Brightspot? They were supposed to break it up when one of the two squawked. When they didn't, an adult stepped in and cuffed them both for overstepping the bounds of polite combat."
"You mean to say that Stiff Tail hit them not for fighting but for fighting dirty?"
"Something like that, yes." She shrugged her shoulders stiffly. "Ow," she said, "Catchclaw doesn't believe in painkillers." She pulled a hypo out of her medical kit and loaded it. The hypo hissed against her shoulder and she sighed deeply. "When it's my back, I do," she said, putting her equipment away.
"She probably thinks it serves you right..."
She smiled ruefully. "Probably. Were you and Spock able to learn anything in there?"
Kirk found another camp stool and pulled it up beside hers. "Mostly YNK," he said, but he told her what they'd found.
As he finished, Fetchstorm returned, carrying with him a long blue and silver useful. "Dr. Wilson," he said, unable to meet her eyes, "please don't be angry with me for mentioning it, but you have so little fur for protection and your 'clothing' is ruined.... You need something to replace it." He thrust the fluttering bundle of fabric into her hands. "A gift," he finished quickly.
Evan cocked her head at him. "From you, or from Stiff Tail?"
"From me," he said, his ears showing surprise at the question.
"Then I accept," Evan said. She drew the useful through reverent fingers. "So very beautiful...." Her voice was soft but there was no mistaking her admiration, and Fetchstorm straightened and looked at her directly.
"Thank you," he said, brightening visibly, "I made it."
"I think you must be some kind of magician, Fetchstorm. I couldn't do that."
"You couldn't?" He bent to sniff at her, and Jim Kirk realized he suspected her of tail pulling.
Evan said, "I couldn't: no one ever taught me to weave."
"I could," he said.
"You're on," said Evan, rising from the stool. "Give me a few moments to change and then I'll come be your apprentice." He waited, and Evan added, "It is the custom of my people to change clothing in private."
"Oh!" he said in amazement and darted away.
Kirk chuckled. "I don't know what you're going to do with that useful, Evan, but you'd better think of something."
Evan looked down at the silky fabric, then up at him. "Stitchit 9-10, Captain," she said. "You'd be amazed what I can do with surgical glue," and left him staring after her, trying to figure that one out.
As she disappeared into Chekov's shelter, Jim Kirk turned to find Brightspot beside him, watching disconsolately, tail and whiskers drooping. "What's wrong?" he asked and, when she made no reply, his concern deepened. "Please tell me. I'd like to be your friend. Isn't a friend someone you can tell your troubles to?" He stooped to pick up her limp tail and stroke its tip.
