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Are We There Yet?
Rating: PG Chapter Eight The early morning sun beat on the camper which made the inside of it overly warm for the sleepers. First awake was Lizi who wanted her milk and her whimpers woke Fluffy who thrust his nose against T’Sari’s belly. T’Sari yelped which brought Trip and T’Pol to instant Starfleet readiness, their disheveled heads breaking wide-eyed out of quilted comforters. The sunlight made them amused at the primal mood which had come over them the night before, huddled around a camp fire listening to Vulcan ghost stories. With the penetrating rays of the morning sun, the shadows and ghosts that had crept in on the campsite the night before seemed to dissipate like the fog from the low places among the hills. T’Sari fed the begging sehlat so he would keep his furry presence to himself for awhile. When she opened the door to let out the accumulating heat, a red fur ball burst out of the camper door to go do sehlat business in the bushes that surrounded their campsite. This steep hillside was positively lush for Vulcan, a touch of home for Trip, but this verdant pocket of life on a desert planet made desert born Vulcans uneasy, suspicious that it wasn’t quite…well…Vulcan. T’Pol stretched one arm while the other held the baby against her breast. T’Sari kept bumping her knee into Trip’s leg as she stood at the food prep area making breakfast. A step and a half in any direction brought her up against something or someone. Trip made contortions to slip into a T-shirt without elbowing his camper mates. “Today while Trip does some fishing, why don’t we hike further up into the hills, T’Sari? Being shut in a camper and driving for several days has left me itching for open spaces and some exercise” “That would an adequate activity, T’Pol,” said T’Sari, “the only exercise I have had lately is shopping in the village. I have a sedentary job and rahket-dukal-torvukh (tennis) league is over, not starting up again for another month. Actually, a hike can also be a useful activity as there are four kinds of mountain teas growing in this area. We can take gathering bags.” “Take weapons, too,” Trip interjected. “I didn’t like the sound of that thing which screamed and died in the night.” “It will not scream any more, Trip. It is dead,” said T’Pol. “But your suggestion to take weapons is logical.” Trip slipped on his jeans with his hips and legs under the comforter. “Yeah, T’Pol, it is dead, but what ever killed it is alive and kicking and probably healthier for having eaten.” “Noted. If you are finished dressing, take the baby while I go outside the camper so I have room to dress without jabbing someone in the ribs.” …. T’Pol scanned the land from their perch on an overhang. The flat rock had been their lunch spot where T’Sari had laid out sealed cups of soup and some of that delightful bread from the bakery. By just setting their cups in the sun, they had made tea from leaves picked from the morning’s foraging. “In another hour, we should return to the camper or find shelter from the height of the day’s heat under some bushes. I can spread one heat dissipation blanket on the bushes over us and we can sit on the other blanket,” Suggested T’Pol. “I see a place about .58 of a mile downhill that looks adequate.” “Acceptable. Lizi can sleep off her lunch.” “She has been sleeping in her backpack most of the morning. My walking pace has been lulling her to sleep. She may want to crawl around a little so she does not get fidgety during the descent back to the campsite. I presume Trip has caught a fresh dinner for us. ” “If he has not, we can always break camp and go into one of the mountain hamlets. Guest tradition is strong around here, so we will be fed.” “And the baby passed around to be examined like she was the clan’s most important acquisition of the year? I would rather just throw something in the microwave in the camper.” T’Sari’s eyes seemed to laugh under a raised eyebrow. “So you want to avoid the natives? I seem to have disquieted you with my stories last night. The contemplation of the writings of Surak has actually penetrated these hinterlands over the last millennia or so, T’Pol. No one will attempt to barter for acquisition of your child.” “I am not worried about the local people, T’Sari, I just would rather enjoy the solitude of our campsite. There is a collection of book pads and logic game pads in the camper if the solitude becomes empty. I am less concerned about the local Vulcan population than I am about the local wildlife. I think I heard something following us through the bushes on the way up.” “That most likely was your Fluffy. I did not let him back into the camper before we left and he always stays close to Lizi. Probably enjoying a hunt for mice while he keeps an eye on us.” “You are most likely correct. Let us start back down now.” They had descended only an eighth of a mile when sounds of something large paralleling their course made them stop short to listen. When they stopped, so did the noise. T’Sari with her knowledge of these hills she grew up in, was becoming uneasy. “We are going directly back to the camper, T’Pol. Something is hunting us, not just watching us.” “T’Pol touched her sleeping daughter’s cheek. “Right, she whispered. “You lead.” They quickened their pace, trying to silence their footfalls. Halfway across an open space, the attack came. Both women pulled laser pistols out but a shaggy dark mound knocked T’Pol to the ground before she could fire. T’Sari hesitated, trying to aim without hitting T’Pol or the baby. Before she could fire, a blur of red fur shot past her, knocking the pistol out of her hand and pouncing on top of the dark form. There was a vicious growl. Dark brown fur and red rolled off T’Pol and the baby. Two large interlocked animals struggled as they tumbled down the steep hillside through weeds and rocks. The fight was so furious that the work of claws and fangs could only be noted by yelps of pain and snarls of anger. There was a sharp scream. The dark form reared up, taking huge limping leaps toward the bushes. Then it was gone. A red heap of fur lay in the weeds below them. They ran down to it, stopping a few feet short in trepidation. “It is Fluffy,” TPol squeezed out, short of breath. T’Sari knelt where the wounded sehlat could see her while T’Pol checked Lizi over. The baby, wrapped tight in her backpack was wide-eyed and trembling with fear, but unharmed. “He has a deep wound and the bleeding must be stopped immediately!” T’Sari looked up in alarm. “I think I can do it.” She reached to push back fur from the wound and the sehlat growled at her. She swiftly withdrew her hand and looked to T’Pol for help. “Fluffy calm. Fluffy cease movement.” T’Pol knelt by the sehlat’s head and he looked at her with pleading, pain-filled eyes. “You are a trained healer, T’Sari. You must stop the bleeding while I hold the pistol. That wild sehlat will be back when he senses our protector is incapacitated. We need Trip to help us carry Fluffy to the campsite.” With her free hand, T’Pol snapped open her com unit. “Trip, come immediately to coordinates 49’ 16’’ 08N, 35’ 14’’ 03W. Come with the camper emergency litter and your laser pistol in hand, set on kill. There is a wounded wild sehlat stalking us. We are unharmed as yet but Fluffy is down.” She then set her com unit on a Vulcan emergency locator setting and stood up to stand watch. |
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