They started for the trail, Jinx leading, Uhura bringing up the rear. At times, it took all three of them to lift the travois and Chekov over or around some obstacle but, once they reached the trail, it became quite easily manageable.
They walked for some time, and the roar of a waterfall once again deafened them. This time, Spock did not check his breathing rate- the combined pressure of the sash across his chest and the amount of water vapor in the air made even normal breathing difficult.
There was no sign of Jim Kirk, Evan Wilson or Brightspot. The waterfall was a constant reminder to Spock of their possible fate.
Jinx halted and shouted above the noise of rushing water, "My turn!" Spock helped Jinx into the travois harness and took her place in the lead. As they started down the trail again, he realized that the pressure across his chest had not diminished. He attempted to slow his breathing to prevent more water vapor from entering his lungs but found he was now unable to do so. He knew then he was in danger- but there was nothing to be done. He said nothing and walked on...
The party rounded a bend. On the lookout for slashbacks and like menaces, Spock almost missed it- but the stylized Vulcan IDIC leapt out at him. He stopped and pointed. "There, Jinx," he said. It was she who needed the reassurance most.
Uhura gave a little crow of triumph. "They're alive! All of them!" She pushed forward to touch her hands to the scarred tree trunk, as if she would believe her fingers even when her eyes lied.
Spock lifted the sash from Jinx's shoulders, and she put her nose to the trunk of the tree. Her tail looped up in happiness. "All three!" she shouted, "All three!"
She knelt to rouse Chekov- she seemed to feel it important that he know as well- but to no avail. Her tail straightened. Without another word, she stepped back and lifted the travois. "Let's move." she shouted. "They're not far ahead of us- the smell can't be more than an hour old." They quickened their pace.
The noise of the falls was beginning to subside. Jim Kirk was sure his ears would take an hour to recover from the assault, until he heard a noise on the trail behind him. Brightspot spun around and unsheathed her claws. "Slashbacks?" he asked, bringing up his spear.
"Can't smell; can't tell," said Brightspot, then sharply, "Listen!"
The three did, tensing for whatever followed them.
Brightspot suddenly relaxed and, curling her tail with delight, said, "It's Lieutenant Uhura!" A moment later, he heard Uhura's shout too.
He shouted back, "We're here, Uhura! We're coming!" and the three of them raced back the way they had come.
He did not stop until he was face-to-face with Spock. "Spock," he said, "you're a sight for sore eyes!"
"I fail to understand, Captain, what bearing my presence could possibly have on the condition of your vision...but I am pleased to see you."
Kirk laughed with relief. Spock, at least, was his usual imperturbable self...
Chekov was not. The ensign lay on the ground on a stretcher-like affair; Wilson knelt beside him, fingers on his wrist, her face grave. Chekov's appearance was shocking- huge patches of hair gone, lesions on his face and hands- even Kirk knew ADF syndrome at this late stage. Not wishing to agitate Chekov, Kirk gave no sign he was disturbed. "Well, Mr. Chekov," he said.
"Keptain," said Chekov weakly, "I'm gled to see you, sair. Is Brightspot all right?"
"Aside from the worst cold you've ever seen, she's fine. How are you?"
"Not good, Keptain, but I hev meneged to get a free ride."
The joke was feeble, but Kirk smiled and said, "I see you haven't lost your power over females- of either species." Chekov gave him a wan smile in return, then he said, "Sair?" Kirk had to bend close to hear his words. "If Ketchclaw ken't...I wanted to say, sair... it's been en honor working with you, sair."
Kirk laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll have none of that, mister. I intend to have your expert services for a long time- and your friendship, as well." But Chekov did not hear him; Chekov was unconscious.
"How often?" Wilson asked sharply, looking up at Jinx.
"More often unconscious than conscious now," said Jinx. "If that's AyDeeEff, Evan, I don't recognize it. Catchclaw went to Sretalles to find a rememberer, someone who collects old information no one is interested in anymore. She hoped maybe one of them would know something. That's why we didn't come looking for you; we had to get Mr. Chekov to Sretalles as fast as we could."
"Right," said Evan Wilson. "Let's go then."
Jim Kirk traded Brightspot's pack for the travois. They could no longer husband their strength. They hastened down the trail as if pursued by demons.
They took no stops to rest that day and only slowed to forage for fruits and berries to keep them going. Chekov had two more conscious periods. Wilson followed behind his travois at a brisk trot and kept up a reassuring line of patter. Jim Kirk hoped Chekov believed her; Jim Kirk didn't.
Spock paced him and said, "Captain, we must make camp for the night. We cannot traverse terrain of this nature without light."
"I know, Spock, but let's get as far as we can and worry about putting up shelters after dark." Spock nodded agreement, coughed slightly and suppressed a second cough.
Catching Brightspot's cold, Kirk thought and knew it would not slow the Vulcan any more than it did Brightspot. He glanced at the others and considered his own condition. They would all need rest soon. He hoped Chekov could last another half day of travel. He hoped Catchclaw would be able to help.
Night fell and forced the party to a halt. He and Spock built up a fire, while Wilson and the Sivaoans raised a shelter. Uhura sat with Chekov's head in her lap. She stroked his forehead and sang softly, as much to ease her own pain as his.
Brightspot roasted strips of slashback meat over the fire and they ate wearily.
Chekov could not be roused. Once again, Evan Wilson examined the lesions on his arms, then she dropped heavily to her knees beside Kirk. Exhaustion, he thought, seeing her taut face in the firelight. "Get some sleep, Evan. Mr. Spock and I will take the first watch."
In a voice almost too low to hear, she said, "I can't do anything for him, Captain. It shouldn't be happening this fast. It shouldn't be happening at all! 'Not a word can be omitted from a song',"- Kirk could hear the quotation marks- "but they did, damn them for it. For all their perfect memories, they changed the one thing..." She finished with a glare at Brightspot.
Brightspot's tail wrapped around Evan's wrist. "Lieutenant Uhura improved your song," she said, "You didn't get angry about that."
"Improved my song," said Evan absently. She laid her hand over Brightspot's tail tip.
"The baby in the treetop," Brightspot explained. She nodded at Uhura. "Rockabye Baby," thought Kirk- the lullabye Uhura had just sung to Chekov. Evan Wilson frowned slightly at Brightspot. "She doesn't sing it that differently, Brightspot. I'd hardly call it 'improving' as in what Distant Smoke did with Chekov's shelter design."
Jinx said, "Brightspot is deaf." At least, that was how it was rendered by the universal translator.
Uhura explained, "The Sivaoan word doesn't quite translate, Evan. She means Brightspot has a hearing defect, or what the Sivaoans consider a hearing defect- she doesn't have perfect pitch."
"The others," Evan began, jerking the point of her chin at Jinx.
And Spock said, "To have a specific term for the lack of the trait would be indicative of its rarity."
"Yes," Uhura confirmed, "all the others have perfect pitch."
"Perfect pitch and perfect memories," said Evan, staring at Spock; then she jerked her head back to look at Uhura. "Nyota, you have perfect pitch too, don't you?" Still stroking Chekov's forehead, Uhura nodded.
Evan Wilson shivered and drew in on herself as abruptly as dry leaves crumpled in the fire. Troubled by this, Jim Kirk said, "Evan- ?" but she silenced him with an urgent wave of her hand. Kirk exchanged concerned glances with Spock.
Just as suddenly, Evan looked up at Spock. "Perfect pitch and perfect memories," she said slowly, "and nothing changes."
"That is not possible, Dr. Wilson. Life itself depends upon change."
"Indeed, Mr. Spock." She held his eyes. "But what if they don't recognize the change?" She swung on Uhura. "Nyota, when you sang the teaching song for Catchclaw and Jinx, you sang it in the same key you learned it in, didn't you." But she did not need Uhura's nodded confirmation. Jinx said, "You wouldn't improve anything that important!"
"You would if the disease changed its characteristics," Wilson shot back. She rose and moved to kneel beside Uhura. "I remember seeing an interview with a composer who had perfect pitch. He said he enjoyed hearing a new arrangement of one of his songs because, in a different key, it sounded completely new to him- like a new song. Is that true?'
Uhura frowned up at her. "To a certain extent," she admitted, "but, Evan, it's still the same song -" Suddenly her hand shot out, caught Evan's wrist. "Possible," she said, "It's possible."
"Then make Jinx hear the possibility," said Evan.
Uhura turned to the Sivaoan and said, "Jinx, listen carefully. On my world, there are many ways to sing the same song. All variations of an essential tune. I'm going to sing the teaching song about the Long Death as many ways as I can. I want you to tell me if you've heard any version of it before."
"Perfect pitch, perfect memories," said Evan again. "Even the words may be different; just the tune, Nyota."
Uhura began in a wavering voice but soon sang with something close to her usual power: the same four lines, each time in a different key, now fast, now slow. Kirk watched and saw before him something like an ancient shamanist ritual: three healers intent on saving Chekov's life.
Jinx's ears quivered forward, never once flicking away as they normally did to catch sounds from all sides. Her great copper eyes never blinked. When Uhura was done, Jinx was silent for a moment; then she said, "Yes, I understand. To you,"-she sang the opening notes of Uhura's song- "and"-she sang the same notes in a higher key- "are the same."
Wilson, never taking her eyes from Jinx, said nothing. Taking their cue from her, the rest kept still. At last Jinx said, "I don't know. It seems silly to think -" She stopped, began again, "I don't know if it means anything- it's so unlikely. The words are different, but it's the same tune, I think, what you mean by the same tune."
"Sing it," said Wilson.
Seeming almost embarrassed, Jinx did. Even Jim Kirk, unfamiliar with Sivaoan music, could hear that what she sang was a variation of Uhura's song. This version was bright, almost cheerful; the verse fast-paced, the chorus leisurely.
If Jim Kirk had expected a revelation, he was greatly disappointed, and he understood Jinx's embarrassment: the song spoke only of a children's disease, neither dangerous nor remotely related to ADF syndrome. The symptoms described were completely unrelated to Chekov's loss of hair, lesions, intermittent coma- these symptoms were so innocuous, in fact, that the only treatment prescribed was to let the child set its own pace and sleep whenever it tired.
Evan Wilson's face showed her own deep disappointment, and Jinx turned away, twisting her tail over the failure. "I can't think of any other songs like Uhura's," she said.
"No treatment for it," said Wilson flatly.
Jinx turned back, surprised. "For that?" she said, "There's a treatment- it can be dangerous if an adult gets it. But most people get it as a child and then don't get it again ever." Like measles, Jim Kirk thought. "It doesn't help, does it," Jinx went on. "I've seen an adult who had it. It's nothing like AyDeeEff."
"The tunes are the same," Evan Wilson said. "Mr. Spock?"
"As you yourself pointed out, Dr. Wilson, the symptoms of a disease may vary in an extreme- even unrecognizable fashion- From population to population."
"Yes." Wilson turned back and said, "Jinx, did anyone in Stiff Tail's camp have the disease your song describes?"
"Grabfoot had Noisy-Baby," said Jinx, without hesitation, "and the other three were probably coming down with it. Evan, does that mean something?"
Evan Wilson took a deep breath. Ignoring Jinx's question, she said instead, "Jinx, can Catchclaw treat an adult with...Noisy-Baby?"
"Of course," said Jinx, "so can I."
A sound came from Wilson's throat that might have been a sob, but when she spoke, the words came out flat, toneless: "What would you need to treat it."
Jinx stared at her, wide-eyed, then swung around to point into the undergrowth. "That plant there," she said.
"Do it," said Wilson in the same flat voice.
Jinx's fur spiked. "You mean you want me to treat Mr. Chekov for Noisy-Baby? Evan, that's crazy! Even if- I can't! I'd have to get the medicine into his bloodstream and I haven't the tools to refine it to a safe consistency and I haven't a needle and- Noisy-Baby?!"
