"For a little bit angry..." Wilson too looked at Fetchstorm; she folded her arms, gave an exaggerated sigh and tapped her foot. "For very angry, I yell. I won't because I don't want to scare any of the youngsters and, besides, it's hard to do when I'm not angry. As he is Vulcan by philosophy, Mr. Spock does neither."
Several of the Sivaoans flicked their ears back, and one or two tails stiffened. The black one said, "You mean he gives no warning?!"
"No," said Wilson with great emphasis, "I mean he does not get angry. Not a little bit, not very, not at all."
"Why not?" Brightspot asked this directly of Spock.
"Anger is illogical and serves no purpose," Spock said.
Brightspot's wide-eyed stare said she'd think about that for a long while. She checked his ears again, to make sure she had the right one.
"I think I envy you that tail, though," Evan Wilson went on, "now that I've seen how useful it is. You can let people know how you feel all the way across the clearing."
"When I want to be nice," Brightspot continued, "I can do this." Her tail snaked forward cautiously and curled itself neatly around Evan's wrist. Prehensile! thought Kirk, surprised. He'd never gotten that impression watching Quickfoot- and neither McCoy nor Uhura had mentioned it.
"That is nice," said Wilson. "May I touch?"
"Distant Smoke?" said Brightspot to the elegant black one. Distant Smoke pricked his whiskers forward; evidently that was a nod, for Brightspot told Wilson, "Yes."
Evan Wilson stroked the tail tip. "Soft," she said, "Are you all so soft?"
It was Distant Smoke who answered, "The fur coarsens as we grow older. Brightspot is young."
"Old enough to walk!" said Brightspot, sharply and defiantly.
Distant Smoke pushed his way closer and looped his tail about Wilson's arm, just above Brightspot's. "I am Distant Smoke to-Srallansre, Evan Wilson. You may touch," he said. Wilson did, comparing the two with gentle strokes. "I see what you mean. Brightspot's is softer than yours- but, to my sense of touch, your fur is also extremely soft, Distant Smoke."
Distant Smoke preened. That's it, Evan, thought Kirk, tell him how young he looks for his age. I've seldom seen a world where that's not a compliment.
Wilson grinned at Brightspot. "My terrible skimpy fur gives me an advantage: I can feel how soft your tail is all over my skin, not just on my palms."
Brightspot said, "Really?"
"Really. You can stop feeling sorry for me. I suspect our various advantages and disadvantages work out about evenly- except maybe the tail. I must admit I see no advantage to not having a tail."
"Maybe," said Distant Smoke, "the advantage is that nobody can pull it."
"You have a point." Wilson chuckled. "Having your tail pulled sounds very unpleasant."
"It is," said Brightspot with vehemence and, as she glared again at Fetchstorm, the tail wrapping Wilson's arm twitched. There was a longstanding grievance if Kirk had ever seen one.
"What do you do when you want to be nice?" The question came from Distant Smoke and seemed partially designed to distract Brightspot.
"I hold hands," said Evan promptly, "or, in this case, tails." She moved the tip of Brightspot's tail gently into her hand and gave a slight squeeze. "The squeeze is not to hurt but to let you know I feel good and I like you. When I feel very good, I hug."
The universal translator garbled that: another not-word in the Sivaoan tongue. "I'll show you," Wilson said, "but you have to let go for a minute. I don't want to pull your tails, not even by accident." She gave each tail a final reassuring brush as the Sivaoans drew away. Neither knew what to expect, and Distant Smoke eased Brightspot just beyond Wilson's reach.
For fear she did not see Distant Smoke's concern, Jim Kirk said,
"Dr. Wilson-"
She turned and cocked her head to one side, her eyes bright with mischief. "Hug, Captain?" she said, catching him completely by surprise. "For demonstration purposes, of course."
"Of course," he said and immediately regretted the words. They made it sound as if demonstration could be his only possible motive- and he could think of a dozen better reasons for hugging Evan. He hoped she wouldn't hold a remark made in surprise against him.
Smiling, she put her arms around his waist and squeezed with all her might. His first discovery was that she was even smaller than he had originally thought; his second, that she was shaking. His arms closed around her shoulders purely to comfort- and remained for all those better reasons. After a moment, he became acutely aware of the eyes on them, Sivaoan, human and Vulcan.... He released her.
"Thank you, Captain," she said.
"Any time, Dr. Wilson," he replied.
She blushed and turned back to Distant Smoke. "That's a hug," she said. "May I give you a hug, Distant Smoke?"
"Odd," he said. "It does seem affectionate for such a gesture. For us, that would be a fighting position, but you have no claws and no teeth to speak of, so you pose no threat. Yes, please..."
Evan Wilson cautiously enfolded his torso and hugged; Distant Smoke kept his arms raised, well away from her body. She tipped her head back but could not make eye contact in that position. "Distant Smoke? Are you all right?"
"Yes," he said, then added hesitantly, "I should like to experiment... may I return the 'hug'? I will pledge in Old Tongue to keep my claws sheathed and my teeth from your throat."
"I don't understand your Old Tongue, Distant Smoke, but I'll accept your word. It takes two to make a good hug I'd be disappointed if you didn't at least try."
Still he hesitated. "You seem very fragile. You will tell me instantly if I am too rough with you. There is no dishonor in that."
"We humans and Vulcans are tougher than we look, but I'll let you know if you're about to break anything."
Distant Smoke very cautiously put his arms around her, enveloping her completely.
"Bozhe moi," said Chekov, in an awed undertone, "if I hedn't seen her playing with Snarl..." His voice trailed off.
'Playing!' thought Kirk, and his mind added, with almost involuntary humor, 'Bozhe moi' is right! He could not tear his eyes away. Although his nerves screamed the necessity to do something to protect Wilson, Distant Smoke was good to his word: his claws remained sheathed, his mouth closed.
"That's it," Wilson said, "now squeeze." Kirk could see Wilson's arms tighten again. Distant Smoke squeezed, then instantly relaxed his grip. "Try again," said Wilson, "a little harder." Distant Smoke did, again releasing very quickly.
"Perfect," said Wilson. "Once more, with feeling- and hold on a little bit longer." This time their arms tightened in unison, and Jim Kirk caught a glimpse of Wilson's face, half concealed in fur. She had the contented smile of a small child who has been given the world's greatest stuffed toy.
They broke away, Evan Wilson chuckling happily. Distant Smoke, in a burst of identical humor, wrapped his tail about her waist. Not only did Kirk's nerves stop their jangle, but he too found himself chuckling. And that, he thought, is one of the reasons I joined Starfleet- to see that kind of sight.
Something entwined itself around his right wrist. Startled by the strength of the snakelike grip, he looked down. It was Brightspot's tail. "Hello, Brightspot," he said, "I'm Captain Kirk." He stroked the tip of the tail.
Evan Wilson said, "That's what I call a successful experiment."
Distant Smoke pricked his whiskers forward then laid them back- a nod followed by a more serious expression. "Don't experiment with the very young ones, Evan Wilson, or with Brightspot- even if she is old enough to walk."
Brightspot drooped a little, Kirk thought, and he stroked her tail tip again. "Why not?" he asked on the youngster's behalf, and she brightened in his direction.
"Reflexes, Captain," Wilson answered. "I could feel Distant Smoke fighting his own. Brightspot needs her reflexes to survive in this society; she can't afford to fight her training or her instincts."
"Distant Smoke can't hug Mr. Spock either," Brightspot said, "Mr. Spock is a Vulcan." She looked up at Kirk for confirmation; he nodded and, in case the gesture was not understood, said, "Yes, that's exactly right, Brightspot." Brightspot looked pleased with herself.
Distant Smoke said to Wilson, "You and your pack will eat with us. You are too many to share our tent but the to-Srallansres will help you with your own shelter.... Come, Brightspot."
Brightspot gave Kirk's arm an amiable squeeze with her tail and a quick tug before she unlooped it. Jim Kirk grinned at her. "Yes, Brightspot, I'm coming." To the rest of the landing party, he said, "People, we've been invited to lunch. Shall we go?"
Spock, he saw, was staring after Evan Wilson with an expression he normally reserved for complex computations. "Mr. Spock?"
He received no explanation. With a final glance at Wilson, Spock said only, "Coming, Captain."
Chapter Six
"It's been a long time since anyone asked me on a picnic," Kirk said to Spock between bites. The food was good- not just by the standards of Evan Wilson's tricorder- and the excited distractions merely added to the festive atmosphere of the outdoor meal. At first, it was a toss-up whether the tricorder or Uhura's gold hoop earrings were of most interest to the Sivaoans. At the moment, Wilson's tricorder was the favorite. The principal rubberneckers were Brightspot and a female called Settlesand to-Vensre, whose fur was dark brown shading to cream at chest and belly. They followed Evan Wilson about the camp, elbowing aside half a dozen other Sivaoans for the privilege of peering over Evan's shoulders as she demonstrated her instruments.
"It would seem, Mr. Spock, that your worries were unfounded- about Dr. Wilson's lack of experience in these matters," he added, when Spock raised a brow. "She's managing quite well."
The brow remained aloft. "I would almost say too well, Captain."
Spock at his stubborn best, thought Kirk. He grinned and said, "You can't have it both ways, Mr. Spock..."
He left it there, for Wilson and her rubberneckers had returned to the fireside. Brightspot delightedly insisted that Wilson check her readings, and Kirk's and Spock's.
"Captain," Wilson said, "would it be against regulations for Brightspot to use the tricorder herself?"
"Could I?" said Brightspot excitedly. "I'll be very careful with it. I'll promise in Old Tongue...!"
Kirk looked at Spock, who said, "It would be an interesting experiment, Captain. I should like to know if she understands the use of the tricorder."
Kirk said, "Go ahead, Doctor. We've got a lot of leeway on this mission." He smiled at Brightspot and added, "Just make sure she doesn't take it apart." Brightspot flicked her tail, and Kirk said instantly, "I didn't mean to insult you, Brightspot. I was only teasing." He reached for her hand. "I like you, and I have a bad habit of teasing people I like."
She wrapped her tail neatly around his extended hand; its tip came, tickling, into his palm. "It's okay," she said, "I'm not angry. You pull tails but you don't pull hard- just to get attention. I'll know that next time."
Evan Wilson draped the strap across Brightspot's shoulder and placed the tricorder in her hands. Gingerly, Brightspot aimed it first at Kirk, then at Spock. Her whiskers quivered with her concentration. Giving Kirk's wrist a little squeeze with her tail before loosing her hold, she moved off to take readings on the nearby undergrowth. Evan Wilson and the troop of rubberneckers were right behind her.
"I thought she was a child," Kirk said to Spock. "Now I haven't any way of judging their ages."
"Age is not necessarily an indication of intelligence, Captain. We have no way of knowing what is average or expected in this culture. Lieutenant Uhura might be of assistance with her-specialized- knowledge, but we are still dealing with two thousand years of divergence."
On the far side of the cooking fire, Uhura was speaking to Distant Smoke. Kirk beckoned to her. As she rose to join them, Kirk noticed that Jinx, who had been sitting unobtrusively behind the two, also shifted position to follow Uhura. Unlike the others in the camp, Jinx seemed almost as if she dragged her tail behind her. The sight reminded Kirk of another question. "Spock, could they have developed prehensile tails in two thousand years?"
"Unlikely, Captain. That is an extremely short period on an evolutionary time scale. They might, however, have learned to exploit a prehensile tail in that period of time."
"Or Sunfall's people might have developed some taboo..."
"Not exactly a taboo, Captain," Uhura said. She crossed her ankles and sat on the ground near Kirk's small camp stool. "Sunfall considered using her tail"-she frowned slightly, searching for the proper term - "uncivilized. I only learned that her tail was prehensile by accident: I tripped going down a flight of stairs and she caught me with it. I was very surprised."