|
Are We There Yet?
Rating: PG Chapter Nine An hour of staring at the bushes turning toward every sound, had taken its toll on T’Pol. When Trip burst out of the bushes, she had him dead in the pistol sight, despite knowing through their bond that he was close. She lowered the pistol slowly. “Geez, T’Pol, the look on your face!” “It is good to see you.” And she indicated with a flick of her head, where Fluffy and T’Sari were half hidden by scrubby weeds. Direct pressure to the wound had stopped the bleeding but the puncture wound was deep, and from the glazed look in Fluffy’s eyes – extremely painful. Yet he made no move to bite T’Sari; he didn’t even growl at her. T’Sari got through each moment, attuned to the sehlat as she felt his breathing rhythm through her hands on the wound. Periodically she felt under his neck fur for a pulse, which was weakening. Trip and T’Pol had lain down their weapons for half a minute to lift Fluffy onto the litter meant for a Vulcan. His body hung over both sides of it, but he could be carried. They had just picked up their weapons again, turning back to back in a circle scanning the brush, when the motor of a hovercraft reached their ears. They had dropped the weapons again and hurriedly threw rocks to the side while tramping down weeds in a relatively flat space. T’Sari picked up a pistol, but kept glancing down to check the sehlat’s wound for renewed bleeding. They had sent an animal ambulance hovercraft from the Working Sehlat Institute. Between Trip, T’Pol, T’Sari, and two animal healer aides, they slide a regular sehlat litter under the camper one, and lifted Fluffy into the hovercraft. When the hovercraft was only two feet in the air, Trip, T’Pol, and T’Sari started back down to the camper, alert to every sound in the brush. Lizi had stopped trembling long ago and kept falling in and out of fitful napping mode. She did not fuss for milk until they were driving away. They had packed up quickly, throwing things haphazardly into the camper. Trip glanced longingly at the fishing stream for half a second before taking the driver’s seat. It took them two and a half hours to reach the sehlat farm. Fluffy was a limp shaggy form on a surgical table when they entered the animal hospital. The fur was shaved off half of his side around the wound and it was bandaged with a stretchy band that circled his wide girth. He had a cone on his neck to keep him from getting at the wound with his mouth when he woke up. Animal healer aides were preparing to move him to a recovery area, so T’Sari, Trip, and T’Pol holding Lizi, flattened themselves against a wall to be out of the way as the litter was lifted. They followed through corridors which lead from the hospital building to another building where large cages lined the walls of a dormitory with low lighting and the temperature set to desert night normal. Before they locked his cage, T’Sari approached the sedated sehlat and ran her hand along his head. “You did well, shaggy one. I will let you rest your paw on my foot anytime now.” Having seen to Fluffy’s condition, the campers were allowed to park their vehicle in an area where there were water and power hookups. Families often came to the farm to live while their sehlats were completing their training, so they could learn from the trainers how to work with their pets. Although they were back in semi-civilized Vulcan, Trip was informed that there was a stream running through the farm and he would be allowed to fish it. T’Pol arranged camp chairs under the camper awning and planned to spend some days in recreational reading. T’Sari had other plans. When the healer’s aid noted T’Sari’s concern for Fluffy, he had reported it to the farm’s manager. The manager, T’Gig, invited T’Sari to watch and even participate in some of the training which was in progress at the farm. There were sehlats being trained as the ears, as well as the eyes of their future patrons. Also, some were being trained to retrieve items around the homes of people who could not walk. Then there was the usual training for babysitting young children, which was a kind of basic training that all the sehlats got. T’Sari was fascinated by this. She had heard that sehlats were trained in various ways, but had never considered the implications of this or the true intelligence of the animals. Fear is a funny thing. It blinds people to the good qualities of a person or an animal. T’Sari began to loose her fear over the next three weeks as she observed and participated in the training while Trip fished and T’Pol read. In their second week there, another camper had arrived and T’Pol felt a bit uneasy, for this was the family of the blind boy whose sehlat had died under the wheels of the camper she had been driving. They parked at the far end of the hookup area, Vulcans being prone to extreme privacy. T’Pol avoided them for half a day, and then walked over to exchange greetings with the only other campers at the farm. “Greetings. I hope that the training of your new cub is going well?” T’Pol enquired politely. A woman seated at a camp table under the awning of the camper looked up. “I remember you. Go away.” T’Pol was taken aback, for this was very rude for a Vulcan, even one who has received a great wrong. “Please excuse me for disturbing you,” T’Pol said stiffly and walked away quickly to go find Trip. “What’s bothering you, sweetheart,” asked Trip before T’Pol even lowered herself to the grassy stream bank. “I felt you startle a few moments ago.” “The family of the blind boy has arrived. There is an open emotional wound in them and I am the cause.” “We are the cause. You do not bear this alone.” Trip put his arm around her shoulder and drew her against him, tending his fishing tackle with his other hand. “Hey, they only just arrived, right? I’ll bet when they see what a great little guy we picked out for them, they will come round. It was an accident. Are they not taking any responsibility for the accident seeing they let their pet run out in the road in the first place?” T’Pol sighed and sagged against Trip. He was such a comfort to her and came up with the most amazing logic when she needed to hear it. This was how her mother said her own father was when as a child they had sat in the garden in their home, missing him. T’Les would tell her of the good times that T’Pol had been too young to remember, explaining what life with a good mate was all about. And one day, T’Pol would see this for herself. How right her mother was…that is…when you found your true mate. She highly doubted whether Koss had the capacity to comfort her the way Trip did. There was just something about Human males… She thought she could even see that in the way Malcolm treated Hoshi, though she observed that relationship from the distance of Vulcan discretion. “Let’s give it a few days. Then we will go together to say howdy to those people, okay?” asked Trip. T’Pol’s answer was to lay down on the grass with her head in his lap. She soon drifted off to sleep under the hot Vulcan sun. …. Fluffy bounded up to the camper, eyes bright and free of pain. The bandage was gone and his hair was growing back. It was short and stuck straight out from his side, all bristly like a man’s new beard. When he sat down and raised a back foot to scratch at the almost healed wound, T’Sari unselfconsciously slapped his foot down. “No, bad boy.” He looked at her with sad eyes, but she showed him the treat she had laying flat in her hand. He daintily took it, the tip of a wet tongue touching her palm and warm breath tingling the wet spot on her hand. He swallowed. Then he licked her face. Then he pushed her backwards so she was flat on her back while he gave her a thorough face and neck wash. She giggled and dug her hands into his fur, not noticing that his hind foot was again scratching his almost-healed wound. Sehlats are not stupid and sometimes practice a bit of deviousness. …. Matak stood in the fenced workout area and called to Echo. The cub sat a few yards away, looking cute, but not responding. T’Sari watched the trainer, a dark skinned Vulcan man, shake his head and prompt the boy “Call him again. Firmly.” Trip and T’Pol had come up to the fence quietly. Trip had his head resting on his arms on the top fence bar and commented to T”Pol “Sehlat whisperer”. “Whisperer? But the boy is being asked to give commands more loudly. Whispering does not work with sehlats. Take Fluffy as a cub for example. Didn’t you name him after that three headed dog in some Human magical story? You said that if he had three heads, he would have three sets of ears to hear you with. Then you could get his attention better?” “You win, Sweetheart. Sehlet shouter. That is what this trainer is.” The trainer nodded to T’Sari who stepped into the enclosure next to Matak. She leaned down and talked quietly to the boy. He nodded and called to Echo again. The cub took a step, then four leaps and sat down again in front of Matak who reached out a hand and patted his head. Matak closed his unseeing eyes and his face perceptively softened. Then he squatted down and buried his face in Echo’s chest fur. |
Like it? Hate it? Just want to point out a typo? Join the discussion now.
Disclaimer: Star Trek in all its various forms and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit. This site is owned by CX and was opened to the public in February 2008.