She shook her head, but softened the gesture with words. "Perhaps, Brightspot, but that takes a lot of time. The rewards, I suspect, are infinite, but- time. That's the one thing some of us won't have." It was herself she thought of; she shook her head. "Well," she said, "Jinx, you'd better get some sleep now."
"Let me fix Brightspot something first- if I don't, her sneezing will keep me awake all night."
Brightspot said, "Don't pull my tail, Jinx," and simultaneously looped her tail invitingly into range. Jinx looped her own tail at the joke, licked Brightspot's cheek once, then she walked away to forage for herbs. Soon she was preparing another of her potions.
Evan was still thinking of Spock, when Jinx said, "It must be difficult to treat Mr. Spock when he's ill."
"You're right. The combination of human and Vulcan makes it tricky. You should hear Dr. McCoy on the subject: you'd think Mr. Spock's physiology was devised simply to torment him."
"Do you know why his breathing has changed?"
"Spock's? He's got control of functions in his body that are strictly involuntary in the average human. He slowed his rate of breathing to keep all that water vapor from the falls out of his lungs."
"Not slowed," said Jinx. She glanced up from her task and her ears flicked back. "You can't hear the difference?"
"Tell me," said Evan, keeping her voice as level as possible.
"It's not the same as it was back in camp, which I took to be normal." She waited for Evan's nod, then went on, "Now it sounds as if he's working hard just to breathe. Short. Fast. Shallow." Evan rose from Chekov's side, and Jinx finished sharply, "Evan, what is it?
Evan Wilson expelled a deep breath and sat down again. "Damn you, Mr. Spock," she said, just as a general comment. "And damn me, for paying all my attention to Chekov. Have you heard him cough, Jinx, Brightspot?"
It was Brightspot who nodded. "I thought he was catching my cold...." She paused to accept the finished preparation from Jinx and down it with a grimace that showed most of her teeth. "Is he sick, Evan? Can you do something for him?"
"Not here," Evan said angrily. "Not here. I've got to get him back to the Enterprise. He needs rest and he needs antibiotics- and I'm not equipped to whip something up out of local herbs."
"He's not going to get much rest either. It's still a full day's travel to Sretalles," said Jinx.
He knows what he's got and he knows I can only treat it back on board, Evan thought. He also thinks he can make it to Sretalles on his feet. But he won't chance telling the captain, for fear the captain will send us on ahead to bring back help, when, to cover all the bases, we've got to walk into Sretalles as adults- so I can talk to their doctors, so Jinx hasn't failed. The logic was impeccable but, if Spock had misjudged, logic might be the death of him.
"Yes," Evan said and nodded grimly. "We'll have to play this by ear." The image only bewildered the two Sivaoans, so she said, "As long as Brightspot's okay and Chekov continues to improve, we travel slowly, with frequent stops for rest for Chekov's sake."
"But- Mr. Spock?"
"If he'd wanted us to know he was sick, he'd have told us. If we stop for his sake, we might just get an argument," Evan said. "I'll stand his watch tonight; he needs the sleep more than I do. Besides- I don't weigh much at all- if I pass out from exhaustion, you two can drag me into Sretalles by the hair."
The two Sivaoans agreed. Jinx settled down to rest, and Brightspot resumed patrol, her tail still curled, apparently, over the idea of dragging Evan by the hair.
Captain Kirk, however, was anything but amused when Evan waked him in the morning. "I thought," he said, "that you and Mr. Spock were even."
Evan shrugged. "Now we are," she said. He scowled, but that was not an expression the captain was skilled at, and Evan felt neither chastised nor repentant. While he woke the others, she concerned herself with Chekov.
In the early gray light, she could see that the lesions were indeed beginning to heal. Fragile scar tissue covered all but the deepest, and even those had begun to dry. When she tapped him lightly on the cheek, he stirred and opened his eyes. "Morning?" he said, his voice still weak. She chose to take the question as a greeting. "Good morning to you, Mr. Chekov. Very nice to have you with us again." She leveled a forefinger at him. "And don't you dare get up."
"But, sair!" he protested.
Grinning, she countered, "You may get away with murder by rolling those gorgeous eyes at Dr. McCoy, but it won't work on me- I know all the tricks."
"Indeed, Mr. Chekov, I believe Dr. Wilson to be quite accurate on that account." It was Spock, and Evan Wilson looked up to find herself subject to the full strength of his scrutiny. "You did not wake me for my watch, Doctor." He merely stated this as fact, but Evan knew an accusation when she heard one. She felt the color rise in her cheeks.
"As you did not wake me for mine, Mr. Spock," she said.
The long lines of his face took on a thoughtful expression, then he turned his attention to Chekov. "Your appearance would suggest that you are in the process of recovery. How do you feel?"
"A little shaky, sair, but I could walk, I think...only Dr. Wilson won't let me up."
"Mr. Chekov," said Spock, "it has been my observation that it is best to obey the orders of those who outrank you- particularly those in the medical branch of the service."
"But, Mr. Spock- you and Dr. McCoy, sair-" Chekov began.
Spock cut him short. "Dr. McCoy is not known for his skill with a quarterstaff."
Kirk had been close enough to overhear the exchange. He laughed and, kneeling to take Chekov's hand, said, "Mr. Spock has a valid point. Welcome back, Mr. Chekov- but you ride the rest of the way to Sretalles." And ride he did. "Chort vozmi!" he said once through his teeth. Each rough patch of ground they dragged him over made him wince, and the abrasion reopened many of his lesions. Evan could see how painful it was for him- but aside from the incidental Russian curse his only complaint was that she would not let him walk.
The frequent halts for rest drew complaints from Captain Kirk. She understood his impatience this close to their objective, it was difficult to slow instead of speed. She shared his frustration- but she kept close to Spock and now she could hear his labored breathing. There were no reasonable options. She had to get him back to the Enterprise but she could not risk exhausting him. Spock coughed covertly. She did not glance in his direction. "Okay, Captain," she called ahead, "time for a break. I want to feed my patient."
"Evan, can't that wait the two or three hours until we reach Sretalles?" His voice was almost pleading.
"No, it can't," she said and shot Chekov a look that caused him to close his mouth in mid-protest.
At the next small clearing in the wood, they paused. While Jinx raised Chekov's shoulders and fed him berries, Evan examined the reopened lesions. "Still look good, Jinx," she said. "The ones that aren't being abraded are definitely healing. Is there anything we can do to pad this a little?"
"Stuff it with silver moss," said Jinx. "It's absorbent, and it's as clean as anything we've got."
Kirk paced the clearing as they worked, impatient at the time it took for them to do the job properly. When they had at last finished, Evan rose to tell him they could be on their way- and found him staring down at the seated Spock. From his shocked manner, she knew he had just taken a good close look at his friend. "Mr. Spock?" he said. "You look terrible!"
"I assure you, Captain," said Spock, "that my appearance does not differ from yours to any significant degree."
Kirk glanced down at his own rumpled, muddied clothing and at his scratched, bruised hands. "Point taken, Spock," he said ruefully. And Evan Wilson thought, Bravo, Mr. Spock, you do that like a master! Never lie when misdirection is enough.
"Slashbacks!" said Jinx. She pointed back the way they had come. "Smell them, Brightspot?" Brightspot shook her head and tapped her nose. She no longer had a spear and drew in behind Jinx and Evan. Spock and Kirk instantly moved to join the protective circle around Brightspot and Chekov. "Three," said Jinx, "or as many as five."
"How far away?" Kirk asked.
"Could be as far back as the last place we stopped, Captain-slashbacks smell strong. Stop talking and use your ears."
Hearing nothing, Evan Wilson raised her staff against the very silence.
The captain was alive! The Vulcan IDIC slashed on the tree had done more to convince Scotty of that than Rushlight's assurances that the entire party was now accounted for- by smell. Scotty was anxious to confirm this with his own eyes, especially since Rushlight held to the opinion that Chekov was ill.
Having seen the lay of the land- and the teeth on the slashbacks- he wondered how the party could safely sleep at night. Scotty hadn't tried it himself. At Rushlight's insistence, he'd returned to the Enterprise for the night; he'd slept in his familiar bunk while Rushlight spent the night in a tree.
"Freeze, Scotty," said Rushlight. Scotty froze, his phaser raised and ready. Rushlight took two noiseless steps down the trail and sniffed. "More slashbacks," he said in a whisper. "We're still upwind; they don't know we're here yet."
"D'ye suppose they're after the children?"
Rushlight nodded. "There are a lot of them- the rains must have flooded them out of their usual territory. Too many for the children to handle. If we can get close enough, we can even out the odds a little without ever letting on."
"I'm in favor o' that, laddie! Lead the way."
Rushlight veered from the trail into the undergrowth toward the river. The big Sivaoan's silent grace made Scotty feel both clumsy and noisy but, when it came to looking after the captain and the rest, he was game for anything.
A moment later, he regretted his choice of words. "Be ready," said Rushlight, "they've heard us." Despite the warning, the attack came as a surprise.
The undergrowth before them split apart. Scotty saw only the long deadly teeth. He fired his phaser at the leading slashback, fired at the second before the first had time to crumple, with a flash of bright blue light and a crackle like a bolt of lightning. Rushlight dropped two others. Then he and Scotty waited, not daring to relax.
Jim Kirk remembered the details of Spock's encounter with the slashbacks and came to the conclusion that slashbacks might well be frightened away if something as unfamiliar as a human made a direct, unhesitating attack on them. Evan Wilson must have had the same thought. At the silent appearance of the slashbacks on the trail, he and Wilson, with almost identical war whoops, charged the creatures. Startled and fearful, the creatures froze in their tracks.
Evan Wilson was the closer. With a second howl, she rammed her quarterstaff into the female's face. As it jumped back, shrieking its pain, she swung at the male, clipping it along the side of the jaw.
The impact flung it toward him, and Jim Kirk caught it in the throat with his spear. As he fought to keep a grip on his spear through the twisting leaps of the creature, Brightspot yelled, "Up and in, Captain." Kirk braced, pushed and levered up; there was the nauseating sound and feel of something tearing. The creature gave a cough and began to spasm back and forth. The spear ripped from his grasp. Expecting the creature to renew its attack, he reached for his knife. "It's dead," said Brightspot. "Help Evan."
The female had maneuvered Evan around, cutting her off from the rest of the party. Spock moved in to attack it from the rear, but Evan snapped something at him in Vulcan and he stopped; and it was Spock's iron grip on his arm that held Kirk from intervening. "Do not obstruct her weapon," Spock said. "Keep watch for others."
Kirk did, though his eyes kept straying back to Evan. She never took her eyes from the circling creature. She feinted with the end of her staff; as the slashback raised its claws to snatch the staff, she whipped the staff around and brought the other end down on its head with a resounding crack.
The creature fell back on its haunches and shook its head. Before it could rise, Evan Wilson swung her staff again and struck it three times in rapid succession. It fell. She dropped the staff across the side of its head and knelt, throwing her weight onto the canted staff to pin the creature, and drew her knife. She reached for its throat- and hesitated.
"If you don't kill it, Evan," Jinx said in a clear voice, "it will come after us when it recovers. The captain killed its mate." Evan plunged the knife into the creature's throat. She remained kneeling while the slashback spurted its life onto the mossy verge of the trail, then she rose, staff in hand.
"More coming?" she asked.
Kirk looked at Jinx to see her answer as well. Jinx shook her head. "Two of them ran away- you scared them, I could smell it! I think there are some others back along the trail, but they must have found some other prey. I think it's safe to move on now."
That sounded good to Kirk. "All right, people," he said, "Let's move on." He gestured Spock to the travois. Grimfaced, Evan Wilson raised her staff; the end brushed Spock's chest without actually touching him.
