The BLTS Archive - Little by Little
Second in the 1000 Raps series

---

Spoilers: Two Days and Two Nights, Shockwave 2

Comments: If anyone would like to borrow any of these aliens, go right
ahead.

AN: Dedicated to Shishi, whose remark in FB inspired part of this.
note: title is taken from a proverb from the Nyanja of Malawi, which
says _"Little by little, the tortoise arrives at the Indian Ocean."_
Hoshi says this, untranslated, in the story. takes place following the
season 2 premiere.

---

"Translator Sato," one of the locals says to me. They don't have
names, or they consider names unimportant...something like that. "Do
we exist to speak with one another?"

Very philisophical bunch, these people are. "Yes we can," I
assure--him, I think. He-it, I think Dr. Phlox pronounced some of
them...the ones with the feathered heads.

"What are 'kowz'?"

"Cows?" I ask.

"Yes."

I have a bad feeling about this, and I don't need to look at
SubCommander T'Pol to know that her eyebrow's likely raised. "If I may
ask back before answering," I say, using their culture's rules for
conversation, "who did you hear that word from?"

"Lunch," he-it answers, every head feather ruffed up.

"Your lunch?"

"The swamp plant from your supposedly space-flying vessel informed me
that one's tucker is one's food."

Swamp pl--Malcolm. "And Commander Tucker said something about cows to
you?"

"Compared me with a cow," he-it replies. And that's odd, because the
locals look like plucked chickens.

There's a little sound behind me, and I don't look, because everyone
'knows' that Vulcans don't laugh.

Quick, Hoshi, think!! "A cow," I say, "is a creature from the planet
that Commander Tucker comes from. A cow likes to sit and eat, while
contemplating the universe."

"Truly?"

I nod. "Absolutely." God, I'm sorry about that white lie.

"Satisfactory," he-it replies, and waddles off--probably to debate
the aesthetics of the word 'cow'.

"I wasn't aware, Ensign," T'Pol says to me, "that cows were such
intellectual creatures. I have seen them on your world, and was not
impressed by them."

There's nothing else I can do but shrug. "Your perception,
SubCommander, not mine," and grin. Quick, Hoshi, walk away before she
can figure out if you were snubbing her or not.

As I walk away, I can't help but notice Porthos chasing some of the
locals, with other locals chasing Porthos, and an embarassed Captain
Archer chasing his dog, but unable to even catch up with the locals.
"Captain," I call over to him, "I don't think they want to hurt
Porthos." He just nods, every breath apparently being used for the
run.

I just hope Porthos doesn't really think they're chickens.

I get a little ways into the woods, just to stretch my legs in a
planetside walk, when I hear someone rushing to catch up with me. It
was a rushed sort of waddle, so I mentally discount any humans. "Are
we walking together?" the asker from earlier says to me.

I know better than to say 'We can.' I said that earlier, and didn't
get to leave the conversation 'til over an hour later. "Yes we are," I
say.

"That's good to hear," says another voice, right behind me. Malcolm.

"I didn't know you were there," I say, priding myself for not jumping
out of my shoes...or shirt.

"Your perception of the world lacked in some parts," the asker says.

Malcolm walks around to the side opposite the asker. "I was just
sitting around, and saw the two of you walking by..." He pauses. "So,
can I walk with the both of you?" I nod. "Thanks," he says.

After a few silent minutes of walking--minutes where, for once, the
asker didn't even query a falling leaf--I tell Malcolm about what the
Commander did, and my part of the comparison. Malcolm gave a gasp so
big I've no doubt it was theatrical in nature. "Commander Tucker gave
such a divine comparison?"

"Divine?" asker asked.

Malcolm nodded. "In some parts of my world, cows and bulls are so
revered for their wisdom that they're worshipped."

"The food refered to me as a divinity?"

Malcolm nods. "You're sure that he called you a cow, aren't you?"
'Sure'??

"Unless the air created that sound," asker said, "to produce the
illusion of Commanding Food calling me a cow." The Gnostics had
nothing on these people! Everything and anything is doubted.

Another bout of silent walking, with only one statement-question
asked--repeatedly--and I have time to think...about myself and
Malcolm. We made up, to a point, on the Naroob world. And things had
sort of remained thereabouts, until I literally dropped into his
quarters, and half-naked at that. It was nice of him to divert his
gaze elsewhere; chivalry, one of his many fine qualities; I guess he
isn't bringing that point up, because he probably is afraid I'd see
that as his taking advantage of my accident.

"I do not know about this ground," the asker says, eyeballing the
underside of his-its foot, like somebody with gum on their shoe.

"With respect," Malcolm says, looking back at asker briefly, "you've
been saying that for the last kilome--" and he falls straight down.

I stop walking, half afraid of falling as well, and half so I can see
where he's fallen to...so I can help, if I can. "I was uncertain of
the terrain," asker points out.

"I know," I say. "But you can still help out."

Asker looks at me with as skeptical of a look as a chicken can have.
"Can a mote of dust kill a mountain?"

Oh great, just bloody great. Not only do they doubt reality...but now
I find out they're fatalists too?

"Fine," I say. "Just stay there." He-it doesn't move a muscle.

Malcolm's in a pit, if a small and narrow one...but still deep enough
that I can't reach him with my arm alone. There's no rope handy, so I
need a branch. A branch...One I can reach, not thirty feet up and
thorn-covered.

A branch! I grab the one branch, only for the branch to coil around
my arm, lifting me up to a very alien eyeball. It drops me, so I guess
I don't look like food.

Standing up, I don't wipe the dirt off my bum; for one thing, I might
fall again...and for another, Malcolm comes first!

Blocking my way is the asker. "Did that hurt?" he-it asks. We're not
supposed to throttle aliens we meet, I have to remind myself.

"I thought I told you to stay over there."

He-it tilts -its head. "Was it you who said that?" Just a hunch, but
I don't think his-its kind would last long in Starfleet.

I walk around him-it, and only keep from plummetting into a knot of
quicksand, by grabbing the nearest branch. Pulling myself out, I look
around--no other choice, so I yank this real branch off its tree, and
take it over to the pit...all the while, murmuring a little prayer of
apology to anyone in the future who might need that branch to escape
the quicksand.

I dangle the branch into the pit, and Malcolm grabs it. "You climb,"
I say, "and I'll pull."

"Sounds reasonable," he says dryly.

"No wonder they doubt everything," Malcolm grumbles as he makes his
way up; speaking only after I told him about what happened. "Sinkholes
and quicksand, predators that blend in with tree branches..." He
shakes his head, and I agree. As he passes the lip of the pit, I give
one last tug, and he stumbles out--knocking us both to the ground.
Although we are in each other's arms.

"Malcolm," I say.

"Yes, Hoshi?" he asks, hanging on my every word.

_"Pang'ono--pang'ono kambe anafika ku Ciwambo._ I'm here at last."

He smiles and nods, leaving his head hanging down at the end of his
last nod. "You remembered," he says in that rare tone of his, the one
that feels like it's a lifeline to the past.

I smile back. "Silly," I tease him. "I remember everything you said
on our honeymoon." Pausing to linger here, together. "In fact..."

---

*the Malawi proverb was found in the book *AFRICAN PROVERBS AND
WISDOM: A Collection for Every Day of the Year, From More Than Forty
African Nations__ by Julia Stewart.

---

The End