She stopped. "Call me Evan," she said, "if it's a personal question."
"Why would a doctor take up saber, Evan?"
She gave him one of the wickedest grins he'd ever seen on a human being. "I took up saber for the same reason I took up quarterstaff and eating with chopsticks."
She vanished around the corner without another word. Startled into laughter, he did not follow. Even as he heard the soft sound of the turbolift, he knew instinctively that she would not explain even if he caught up with her, and that somehow made it all the funnier.
It wasn't until Chekov found him there and asked, "Are you all right, Keptain?" that he realized fully what she'd done.
"Yes, Mr. Chekov, I'm fine. Our resident doctor just jolted me out of a severe depression. She's given me a riddle."
"A riddle, sair?"
"Yes. Tell me, what do saber, quarterstaff and chopsticks have in common?"
"I heven't any idea, sair." Chekov still did not seem convinced of his sanity. "Perheps if you esk Mr. Spock?"
"That is a wonderful suggestion, Mr. Chekov. I'll do it at the earliest opportunity." If only, he thought to himself, to see Spock's reaction.
Like the Eeiauoans, Nurse Chapel continued her work even as her ADF syndrome worsened. McCoy was worried. The disease seemed to be progressing more rapidly in her than it did in an Eeiauoan. And according to the epidemiological reports he'd gotten, the same was true for other human victims as well.
He could not conceal the reports from her; he needed her help, and she needed to be helpful. He hid his concern in work, as she hid hers.
Even now, it cost her enormous effort to stand erect. Each movement she made was stiff with pain. McCoy could see the strain of it on her face.
Most of her hair was gone. She covered her head with a brightly colored scarf she'd found god knows where; McCoy knew he'd never seen it before. She'd asked and received his permission to exchange her uniform for a loose-fitting caftan that did less to irritate the raw patches of skin that were appearing all over her body.
She slid a rack of culture plates from the incubator and said, "Still no sign of ADF." Bringing them into better light, she inspected them again. "The human and Eeiauoan tissue cultures are already beginning to show signs of the increased toxin production indicative of ADF, but not Snarl's. And there are still no reports of any of her people contracting the syndrome. Snarl may have a natural immunity that we can take advantage of- if we can find out what factor causes it. I did a complete biochemical workup of a sample to compare with human and Eeiauoan work-ups, but it'll be a few hours before the computer is done with the correlations."
Biochemistry was Chapel's field, and McCoy was never so glad of it as he had been the past few months. "Good girl," he said. "You might be on to something there. Now why don't you get some rest while you're waitin' for that mechanical monster to gobble your data, Christine?"
She shook her head and gave him Quickfoot's reply. "That will come all too soon, Doctor."
McCoy said, "That's an order, Nurse Chapel We may not know how ADF affects humans, but we do know that lack of rest lowers the resistance to any disease."
"Resistance," she said, almost absently.
"We're going to beat it, Christine." He said it with a conviction he did not feel. It might have convinced a layman but not a trained professional.
"Thanks for the bedside manner, Dr. McCoy." She smiled wanly at him. Then she began to process the tissue samples. "Leonard, I want to say something. I've enjoyed working with you all these years; you've been a good friend...."
Abruptly, she braced herself against the lab table. McCoy caught her elbow. "Christine!"
She said, very distinctly, as if it were the most important thing in the world, "Don't let me break those samples. You need them."
He took the single sample from her hand and laid it carefully on the lab bench. She nodded approvingly...then she slumped backward.
McCoy caught her and eased her to the floor, to check her with his sensors. "Quickfoot! Quickfoot!" The Eeiauoan was beside him with an awkward leap, her eyes round.
"First-stage coma," McCoy snapped, "help me get her onto that bench. I want a complete workup of her vital signs.... Don't argue with me, you damn fur-brained idiot! This hospital hasn't any facilities to handle a human in a coma- we'll have to send her up to the Flinn."
"Too ssoon," said Quickfoot; her accent made it sound like a wail. "Too ssoon for first-stage ccoma!"
"Too damn soon. God only knows how fast ADF works in a human. Pull your claws in, dammit, and help me!"
Together, they carried Christine Chapel to the bench. McCoy did his work swiftly, then transmitted her coordinates to the medship. As Christine Chapel vanished in the cold twinkling light of the transporter beam, McCoy felt a shudder run through his body- he knew he might never see her again. He reached a hand toward her in parting, but it was an empty gesture. She was gone.
Quickfoot had her tail in her hands. Bare of fur, almost ratlike, it was the most glaring evidence of the progression of ADF syndrome in Quickfoot's body.
As McCoy watched, she began to twist it viciously. "I gave her sscarf to cover head fur," said Quickfoot with a hissing wail. "She was asshamed, asshamed to have disease. I am asshamed."
"It's not your fault, Quickfoot," said McCoy in a weary voice. "We're doing all we can do." He sighed. "I'll have to call the Enterprise and tell Jim. Is there someplace private I can ?"
"You come," said Quickfoot, "Is my fault. I talk to your captain and transslator, private too. Come, musst hurry."
Having relieved both Spock and Uhura of their duties on the bridge to search for the location of the Eeiauoan homeworld, Jim Kirk felt it his duty to check their progress from time to time. He thought of it as giving them encouragement but he knew perfectly well that he sought rather than gave it.
So far, he had been disappointed. Now, however, he sensed that something had changed. Uhura's face was drawn with exhaustion but there was a spark in her eyes that had not been there before. She listened to her tapes with the sharpened concentration of a stalking cat.
Kirk couldn't put his finger on it, but Spock too seemed to be searching his data for something in particular.
"Any luck, Mr. Spock?"
Spock did not look up from his task. "Luck, Captain?"
"Have you found it?" He knew he shouldn't have mentioned luck to a Vulcan.
"Captain, making certain assumptions as to the date of the Eeiauoans' arrival on this world, the level of their interstellar technology and its possible range at that time, the direction and duration of their journey, we can place the homeworld of the Eeiauoans somewhere within the quadrant you are now seeing on the display screen."
"A quadrant, Mr. Spock! It would take years to search a quadrant for a single planet!"
"Precisely. And I must remind you that even this conclusion is based upon highly questionable data."
"Meaning, Mr. Spock?"
"Meaning, Captain, that should one of our assumptions be faulty, we would be searching the wrong quadrant."
"You've got to do better than that, Spock. You've got to!"
"Lieutenant Uhura"- at Spock's mention of her name, Uhura looked up at him inquiringly; he gave a quick negative shake of his head and she turned her back to them both and placed a slender hand to the ear receiver to shut out their presence- "is endeavoring to refine those results. She hopes to find reference to some... landmark, as she terms it, some distinctive cosmic formation visible from the Eeiauoans' homeworld or perhaps noted by them on their journey. I believe your presence is distracting her from this task."
Kirk was properly chastened. "I can take a hint, Spock."
"'Hint,' Captain?"
"Never mind... I'll get out and leave you to your job."
A whistle from the ship's intercom halted him before he reached the door. He acknowledged quietly, not wishing to disturb Uhura further, then listened. His face must have shown his horror, for Spock said, "What has happened, Captain?"
"Nurse Chapel is in a first-stage coma," he said softly; then, realizing that he already had Uhura's full attention, he added, in as normal a voice as he could muster, "ADF syndrome hits humans harder and faster than it does Eeiauoans.... Lieutenant."
Uhura removed her earphone. "Sir?"
"Quickfoot wants to talk to us. I think we'd better listen." Into the communicator, he said, "Put it on the screen here."
Bones appeared, behind him Quickfoot. He gestured Quickfoot forward.
"I sspeak to ccaptain and transslator," she said, her eyes narrowing at Spock. "No other to hear."
Kirk said, "Mr. Spock is my chief science officer and Dr. McCoy my chief medical officer; I must insist that they remain. I promise you, Quickfoot, nothing you say will go beyond my senior officers.... Tell her, Uhura."
Uhura translated.
Quickfoot bristled- it made her fur loss all the more grotesque- and flattened her ears. "You will be sorry for that promise, Captain Kirk, for I will tell you the truth. Your science officer is correct: Eeiauo is not our homeworld. But we are not colonists, we are criminals."
Uhura translated this. Kirk said, "Criminals? This is a prison planet? You mean you have regular contact with your homeworld?
"No, we left Sivao two thousand five hundred and three years ago. We have not been there since. For many years we could not have returned, now we would not. But I will not be so criminal as to let your people die with us. You must go, to save your people."
"We'll go, Quickfoot. Tell us where it is."
Quickfoot crouched. Without warning, she let out a long agonized wail. McCoy jumped at the sound, recovered and came forward to see if she needed his help. She waved him away.
"I do not know where it is. When you asked about it, I thought you knew everything!"
"Is there anyone who could tell us?"
"No one would tell you. No one else on my world is capable of such treason. We are all criminals, yet I alone- I- I -" She keened her despair.
"Quickfoot," said Kirk earnestly, and he heard the same tone in Uhura's translation, "unless you are two thousand years old, you are not a criminal. The Federation does not hold the crimes of one generation against another!"
He waited until Uhura's translation caught up with him, then went on, "You must help us to help you, Quickfoot. Can you tell us anything at all about the homeworld that might help us find it? Can you see its primary in your sky? What did your ancestors see when the skies above their homeworld darkened? Think, Quickfoot! Anything might help!"
Quickfoot looked at him, unblinking. She shook her head. "There was only the Mad Star's light the year my people were- exiled." Uhura hesitated over the final word although her translation came as no surprise. As unaccustomed as he was to the Eeiauoan tongue, even Jim Kirk could hear its similarity to "Eeiauo."
Seemingly puzzled, Uhura asked another question of the Eeiauoan, translated the answer. "The star that cast shadows, the guest star - oh!" she said suddenly. "She means a nova or a supernova, Mr. Spock." A second query to Quickfoot brought a reply that made her nod once at him in confirmation. Quickfoot went on, as if unaware of Uhura's pause. Softly, but rapidly, Uhura picked up and relayed her words: "They sent us from camp- and the camp was Sivao. We should have died in space. We should never have been born. The same Mad Star bloomed in this sky the year of our arrival- and, as we brought death to Sivao, we have brought death to your innocent worlds. My life will be my apolo -"
Uhura suddenly broke off her translation. She flung her hand at the screen. "Dr. McCoy!" she shouted desperately, "Stop her! Suicide!"
As Jim Kirk and his officers watched in horror - unable to help, unable to look away- Quickfoot raised a hand to her throat. McCoy sprang toward her.
Even though Quickfoot had no wish to injure McCoy, the doctor would have had no chance against her wiry strength if Quickfoot had not been well into ADF syndrome.
He grabbed fiercely for her wrists and threw his full weight against her. She went down beneath him. For a moment, they both disappeared from view, then Quickfoot struggled to her feet.
McCoy clung to her back. He had her right arm pinned and was trying desperately to reach the hypo that lay on the table just beyond his fingertips.
Quickfoot threw him from her. He struck the wall and reeled. Quickfoot reached again for her throat- this time Kirk saw the claws splay. McCoy staggered toward her, and Quickfoot slowly collapsed. McCoy reached her in time to keep her head from hitting the table.
He stood gasping for a moment, then he looked up at the screen. "First-stage coma," he said, hoarsely. "She didn't need to commit suicide, dammit. She's dying now."