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Are We There Yet?
Rating: PG Author’s note: Reading the bit about indicator signals having different meaning in different cultures in The Lerteiran Chronicles, sparked the idea for this story. Shades of that VOY episode where Tom Paris had to take remedial spacecraft driver’s education from an alien, also came to mind. And then, maybe the long reaching shadows of Ricky and Lucy Ricardo having an animated conversation colored my thoughts. Chapter Two When the baby dropped off to sleep again, in her arms, full of milk, head rolling to the side, mouth still round from her sucking efforts, T’Pol gently rocked her. The baby made a couple of sucking motions with her lips in her sleep and smiled. It was hard for T’Pol to break the contentment of the moment, but Trip was stirring and they really should get to the village in the foothills by night fall. Trip looked back at her, noting the baby was asleep. “She sleeps more than she is awake.” “Of course. She is growing rapidly and that takes most of her energy. A condition common to both Vulcan and Human babies.” Trip’s face had that whimsical look that Humans get when they are well rested and somewhat amused. T’Pol rose and placed her daughter back in her car bed and secured the restraint so it would not bind. Her thoughts returned to the miles they had yet to travel. The Vulcan sun was getting lower despite the heat still making waves up off the road bed. T’Pol looked at it rising from the one lane in each direction, the ribbon of road stretching to a horizon as yet unmarked by the foothills. Driving took concentration on these back roads, for slipping a wheel off the road would mean sinking to the axel in hot dry sand. Now if they had a hovercraft camper, it would not have mattered quite as much. They might stir up some sand to obscure their view, but they could veer back onto the road with no trouble. There had been no hovercraft campers available at the dealership at the time of their vacation. It was a Vulcan holiday, so all had been reserved months ago and this adventure was a spontaneous decision. “Have you ever met this cousin we are visiting?” asked Trip. He had vacated the driver’s seat and was paging through maps on the screen from the front passenger seat. “Twice,” said T’Pol as hunched over in the low-ceilinged camper, she took three steps forward to reach the driver’s seat. “She attended my bonding ceremony when I was seven and I attended her Vulcan Science Academy graduation, years later, at her parent’s invitation. We played a board game together once, while waiting for the officiant to arrive for my bonding ceremony. I remember my mother scolding me for getting my formal robe dusty because we had set the game board on the ground behind one of the standing stones of the stone circle. They had been looking for us with some concern as we were so intent on the game that we had not heard Koss’s clan arrive.” “Naughty Vulcan children.” Trip’s mouth broke into a smile. “I knew it. I knew Vulcans were not BORN logical and well behaved.” “Why would you ever think that?” T’Pol was truly puzzled. She engaged the ignition and turned the camper onto the road. “You will have innumerable surprises ahead with our own daughter if you are expecting her to display impeccable behavior. Vulcans are born with a natural bent toward logic but it needs nurturing.” “So that’s how it works.” T’Pol sighed. Her mind envisioning instructing both husband and daughter, side by side, through the coming years. The sameness of the landscape was mesmerizing for both of them as the miles rolled away beneath the tires. There were no other vehicles to break the monotony. The Baby woke up. Trip spent a few minutes entertaining her with finger games and making faces. The hum of the tires soon had the baby back to sleep. The heat started to back off. The shadow of the camper lengthened out ahead of them and tiny dark pimples appeared on the horizon, hazy grey mounds behind them. T’Pol broke the silence. “The foothills and the mountains. Looks like there might be some moisture, maybe even rain. The mountains are obscured by fog.” “Yes, I see,” Trip shaded his eyes with his hand, peering ahead with, then without, sun glasses. “Not sure how to judge the distance though. Because of the thinner atmosphere on Vulcan, my earth atmosphere trained senses misjudge distance. Everything is in sharper focus and seems closer.” “Correct. We are about two hundred miles from those hills.” “I would have said about a hundred. Guess I should just cut in half my first estimates.” “That would be logical.” “Hey, I was logical today!” “You were logical…once…today.” “Don’t spoil my accomplishment. And the day is not over yet,” grinned Trip. Like a watched pot never boils, hills on the horizon don’t get larger while you are staring at them. Trip played a Sudoku-like logic game meant for Vulcan children on the navigation screen, occasionally clicking back to the map where he watched the green line of their camper advance. At least that showed some progress. “Hey, I think those pimples on the horizon are now thumb nails.” “They are neither pimples or thumb nails. They are hills.” Silence for a few seconds. “I knew that.” Silence for another few seconds. “Really?” “T’Pol, you are joking again, right? Sometimes I am not sure.” “Sometimes I am not sure either, whether I am joking. You are so exasperatingly Human.” “You finally noticed I was Human? How clever of you. Don’t tell any of your Vulcan friends when you introduce me. It might slip their notice and save your good reputation.” “It just might work unless you actually talk to them. I think your Human vocal accent could give you away.” “Right. I will have to work on that.” “We should switch drivers again. The conversation is deteriorating which indicates a lack of concentration on the road.” Trip grinned. “Right you are, as always.” “Of course. I am Vulcan.” ”Well maybe not completely right in this instance. I would rather you drove in the hills, especially at night.” “Logical twice today. Quite impressive.” They drove on the flat of the desert for another half hour before the land started to rise into the hills. The road began to snake through the foothills at twilight when the long shadows lost their sharpness, merging into each other. As daylight faded, the road glowed faintly, then more brightly across its surface, so no edging line was needed like on earth. The road was soon a ribbon of neon yellow. “Just follow the yellow brick road.” Trip began to sing off key. “What?” T’Pol asked, slowing on the latest curve. “Oh, just another fairytale reference. From a book I plan to read to Lizi sometime.” T’Pol had only taken her eyes off the road long enough to look at Trip in surprise. It was enough. The shadow appeared suddenly and the camper swerved sharply as T’Pol’s Vulcan reflexes almost made them miss hitting it. Almost. The left front of the camper rose as the wheel rolled over something solid and then the back wheel bucked over it too. T’Pol braked and pulled off the road. This was not a siding, so the right front wheel sank into the sand, but just a few inches as only a thin layer of sand covered the rocky ground. The baby woke and sniffled into a sleepy whine. “Want me to go see?” asked Trip. “No, I better do it. I can identify Vulcan wildlife better…or Vulcan pets.” She grabbed a flashlight from a compartment built into the driver’s door, opened the door and shined the light back along the road. |
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