The BLTS Archive - A Way in the Rain Eleventh in the 1000 Raps series --- Spoilers: Two Days and Two Nights Comments: if anyone would like to borrow any of these aliens, go right ahead. dedicated to: Shi_Shi2525. (or should I say "blamed on Shi_Shi2525 ?). :) Also a big THANKS to the television show _The Babel Project_, which inspired the Kelam Ketir (which does NOT exist) in this story. the title is taken with great respect from Hannibal's quote, "We must either find a way, or make one." I heard that one on 'The History Channel'. I think they were quoting Hannibal Barca, enemy of Rome. This takes place a few weeks after leaving the *Siiruu* world, much to Trip's relief.or not. --- Elizabeth Cutler finished swallowing her bottle of beer. Hoshi managed to refrain from rolling her eyes, but she didn't refrain from wondering why her cousin'd come down planetside; after all, there weren't any plagues or other things which would require a doctor. "It's delicious," Cutler said, complimenting the brew. "Are thanked, for gracious compliment," said the soliatary humanoid native in the hut with them...or rather, twenty natives collectively forming one humanoid body. The natives were obligate colonials, with the ones in this hut holding a human shape to put the real humans at ease. Elizabeth tried to remember which Earth creatures the Puu-aa reminded her of, finally deciding on two. Byrozoans, with their habit of gathering together into colonies to maintain their own temperatures better. And leeches, with the whole stretchable and collapsable bodies. And their grammar, Hoshi had found, completely side-stepped the issue of individual and group; hence the thanks given. "Not wanting beer?" the native(s) asked Hoshi, the freckled face aimed at her. It was a physical gesture for her sake: there weren't any eyes or noses on the face; only freckles, just like the arms, legs, and torso. "Thank you, but no," Hoshi said. "I don't drink." "Not drink?" the native said with considerable skepticism. Hoshi still hadn't figured out which body (part) generated the voice. "Against my religion." "Against what?" the native asked, puzzled by the new and foreign concept. "Not going to drink, no preparing for disassembling in rain?" Hoshi went taut. "Rain?" she repeated. "We don't go to pieces," Elizabeth explained to the Puu-aa. "When it rains, we stay in one piece." Out the corner of her eye, she could see Hoshi's paled face. "Though, how long is it going to rain?" The native hesitated. There were no numbers in their language, Hoshi thought; not even a need for One, Two, More Than Two. This could make counting rainy days more difficult. "Night, no day. Only--What is word for concentrated light?" "Laser." "Night, no day. Only bursts of laser interspersing the gloom." A clap of thunder sounded just then. "Close," the native said. "Crossing mountain range soon," which suggested a strong sense of time, even without numbers. Another thunderclap. Another, and another. "Raining soon," the two humans were informed. A minute later, Hoshi's communicator chirped. --- ENTERPRISE BRIDGE --- "There is still no response from the shuttle, Captain," T'Pol said. Aside from her voice, the mood on the Bridge was one of silence. A morbid, respectful-of-the-dead silence. Archer didn't like that sort of silence. Not in a situation like this. "Try--again," Archer told her. When T'Pol didn't, Archer asked her, "Was there something in 'try again' that you didn't understand?" "No. However, I see no point in continuing an obviously fruitless exercise. It is entirely plausible that their communications were among the first things damaged by the lightening." Archer's feet were not looking forwards to pacing, so the Captain sat down in his chair, looking out the viewscreen at the planet below. He was starting to wish he hadn't sent a shuttlepod down there to pick up Hoshi and Crewman Cutler. Trip had thought he could get planetside & back to Enterprise before the annual storms arrived. It had been a volunteer mission, though Archer couldn't help but wonder if having both Trip and Malcolm on the shuttle had contributed in any way to the disaster. No!, he shook his head. The lighening had done it, it alone was responsible. And if Archer hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that the electrical bolts had mistaken the shuttle for a bioballoon. They'd been seen on the early scans of this planet. Balloon spheres with a metal-silicone outer crust that was a near match for the shuttlepod, they were now being struck by bolts of lightening--and exploding!, scattering their living contents in all directions. It didn't help any that there was a layer to this world's atmosphere, a layer unknown to almost every other Minshara-class planet. A layer of conductiveness and static charges...perfect for generating stronger bolts of lightening. Jonathan wasn't looking forwards to making another call. He didn't relish having to tell Hoshi that her husband was, in all likelyhood, dead. But, he knew, it had to be done. And as Captain, it fell to him to do such a thing. "Open a channel," he instructed. "Captain--" Archer interupted T'Pol. "Not to the shuttle this time. Open a channel to the away team on the surface." "Ensign Sato," Hoshi said when the connection was made. There was a bit of static in the conversation from atmospheric interference, but the two sides were mutually intelligable. "Yes sir?" she sounded a little miserable already, Archer thought to himself, which only made his job all the harder. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this," Archer said, pausing as there was a sound of a comm striking a packed-dirt floor, then being picked up, "but Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker have crashed into the planet, on their way to pick you and Crewman Cutler up." "What?" Hoshi asked, her voice flat and empty already. "What happened?" "As near as we can tell," he told Hoshi, "their shuttlepod was descending through the atmosphere, when it was struck by lightening. That was when it started plummetting towards one of the swamps." One swamp among thousands that littered the continent. "We tried raising them on comms, but their electrical systems seem to have shorted out." "Dead?" Hoshi asked in a quavering voice. "We think so." "Are--are you sure?" Hoshi asked, her voice sounding small. "As sure as we can be," Jonathan said. "I'm sorry." It sounded inadequate, he even knew it was inadequate...but then, whatever was adequate for telling someone that a loved one had died? "We're not going to give up hope, Hoshi, and we're going to try again when the storm lets up." There was silence on the other end. "Hoshi?" Hoshi didn't say anything for a minute, then only one word. "Mausenram, Captain," Elizabeth said into the comm, repeating the word for Enterprise. "A single rainstorm can last for eleven days, and that's normal in the rainy season." The name sounded familiar, but Archer couldn't quite place it. "Where is Mausenram?" "Northern India, sir," Cutler said, just before the line went dead. Elizabeth's saying 'in the Khazi Hills' wasn't transmitted. "Interference from the mid- and lower-level atmospheric storms," T'Pol said, "have cut us off from the away team." --- PLANETSIDE --- It had been half an hour since the Enterprise had called, according to Elizabeth's wristwatch. Hoshi was leaning against a dry wall, curled up on herself, and reciting a few comforting dua to herself. She wasn't talking to anyone, not her cousin, and not the native. "Disturbed by rain?" that native asked Elizabeth. "She grew up in a really rainy place," Cutler said. "I think she joined Starfleet just to get away from it." "Escape rain??" When Cutler shrugged, "Not disturbed by rain?" the Puu-aa asked Elizabeth. It was making a visible effort to stay unified, despite twitches over most of its sitting-down body. "Nope," she answered it. "In fact, I love the rain." "As do Puu-aa. Resisting urge to do love love love in the cooled-down springs." Elizabeth refrained from pointing out that she hadn't meant 'love' in that sense of the word. "'Cooled-down'? As in, they used to be hot springs?" "Correct. Not as warm as prior to rains, warmer than glacier-melt from late winter." Cutler shifted uncomfortably, well aware of how broad a range that was. "Does the water steam or boil in the springs?" "During rains, rare rare. Before rains, ever always." Another bodies-spanning twitch. "Is bad for human?" Elizabeth nodded. "Boiling water tends to scald our skins, hurting us in body and mind." "Then...why human on world with Puu-aa?" "To talk to--" the word 'you' was a human concept, not a local one. "To talk to the Puu-aa," not mentioning that Enterprise hadn't been aware of overflowing hot springs. "Correction. Not assembled human," pointing with two leech-fingers at Elizabeth, then Hoshi, then up to the sky. "Why is human on world with Puu-aa?" "I think she just wanted to say Hi to you," she said, refering to Hoshi, who had whimpered herself to sleep by now, "and learn your language." "And human?" now pointing to Elizabeth, who was grateful that the leech-finger's mouth was attached to its hand, not waving on the fingertip. "I...was curious," not saying her other reason. Elizabeth had joined the Enterprise team--prior to learning that Hoshi was going to be on the ship as well--to do something that the Great Hoshi Sato hadn't done. The list of such things was not a long one, and it included things like going to Cyprus, and being drugged by that pollen planet. She could still remember one of her earliest boyfriends, a steady guy by the fairly common name of Chekov. The two of them were going steady, an unbreakable pair...and then Hoshi Sato had wafted into town. It'd taken a long time before Elizabeth had even begun to forgive Hoshi for breaking her and Chekov up. --- MEANWHILES --- The shuttlepod had by now settled into the swamp muck, sinking no further than a third into the organic-rich mud. There wasn't much damage from the trees struck on the way down, since cellulose was an unknown material here, just like calcium. It'd been like plowing through an origami thicket. Each tree was really a half-dozen or more creatures living together, so the damage was minimized. The external damage, at least. Within the slightly-cracked shuttlepod, however, Trip Tucker was rather wishing that the two of them were back in the slowly-freezing shuttlepod in space. Trip was banged-up, bruised, and sore on a dozen spots of his body. He was also trying not to fall asleep, since he was worried that he had a concussion or something. When he heard Malcolm wincing, waking up, Trip said, "Just on a hunch, I think your leg's either really twisted, or slightly broken." "How comforting," Malcolm said. Trip didn't remark that the Universe must've had a scale or something, since, other than the sprained-or-broken leg, Malcolm wasn't that badly hurt from the crash. "So, other than that, you okay?" Trip asked. It was a stupid question, he knew that as soon as he'd said it. But there wasn't really anything else to say...anything else would have sounded sadistic, given Reed's current state. A groan, and Malcolm said something in a language Trip didn't know. It sounded odd, full of consonants and vowels, yet overlaid with clicks and popping sounds. "What planet speaks that?" he asked. "Earth," Malcolm said dryly. "Its part of the San language group." "Oh," Trip said. "Hey, that reminds me, there's something I've been wondering...how many languages do you know?" Malcolm considered. "About eighteen that I know the full range of words. Another dozen that I can speak haltingly in. And they're all human languages." Trip looked at Reed skeptically. "And why didn't you sign up as one of Enterprise's linguists?" "I think the shipboard joke is fairly accurate--I prefer blowing things up," he said; though the real reason, which he kept to himself, had been that back then, he hadn't wanted to press Hoshi...so he'd signed up on a station that wouldn't be constantly impinging upon her. Or so he'd thought. "I see," Trip said. "So, what correspondance course did you take to learn all those languages?" "More of an upbringing. Ever hear of the Kelam Ketir Project?" Malcolm asked. Trip shook his head. "Nope." "Not many have. 'Many languages' the official name meant. When you grow up with one language, you can learn other languages fine...but you can't always explain to others just why a particular word is used in certain situations and not in others, in your first language. Kelam Ketir was an attempt to have polyglottal children who were masters of all the languages they encountered--and couldn't be stumped in explaining word usage." "Okay," Trip said. "I suppose that might make sense, for some arm of some government. But Malcolm, I've just got one question." "Go ahead," he replied, not bothering to say that it was more of an intellectual experiment by a couple of couples, not any government programme. "You're a test tube baby?" Malcolm figuratively exploded into laughter, then stopped the explosion when there was a throb in his skull. "What? You just said you grew up in a Project." "Programme, an experiment, like seeing how people survive in space for months on end. I was concieved and born the normal way, Trip," Malcolm said, still chuckling. "One hundred percent genetically normal human being. Homo sapiens sapiens all the way." --- THAT EVENING: Elizabeth watched as the Puu-aa fought against its inner nature, struggling not to break apart into its component pieces. It was a struggle that Elizabeth herself was familiar with, though in the human framework of experiences. The fight against instinct, against envy, against various forms of--cides. What was the word for wanting one's cousin dead?, she wondered to herself, not for the first time; she could never remember the word, however many times she'd looked it up. If Hoshi were to break up with Malcolm, she said to herself, she wouldn't take Malcolm in. Not out of spite towards him, never that. But Elizabeth was just tired of always getting Hoshi's hand-me-downs, the dregs she trailed behind her like a ship's wake. Elizabeth, a full two years older than Hoshi, though she didn't always look like it, had lived in her cousin't shadow from Day One. She had no doubt that, should anyone from Enterprise come through the hut door, they'd rush immediately to the quivering and whimpering-in-her-sleep Hoshi...leave Elizabeth for later, if ever. And she knew that, in that senario, it wouldn't entirely be Hoshi's fault for once. Hoshi wasn't really hydrophobic...just had major issues with the rain. And Malcolm's death. That there, it was something Elizabeth could feel sorry for. Poor Malcolm. "Eliz?" Hoshi asked, half-asleep, using an old childhood nickname. There were times that Elizabeth wondered why she hadn't been born a boy. Perhaps, she'd always wondered if it would have pulled her out of Hoshi's massive shadow. That and, growing up, she'd wanted a more traditional name than 'Elizabeth'...and her parents had told her, that had she been a boy, she would have had a traditional name. "I'm here," Elizabeth told Hoshi, reluctant to move. The Puu-aa's leftmost finger-leech fell off, but tried to re-attach itself--on the knee. --- Vlad Cutler. THE PAST --- "Did you find any scorpions?" Malcolm asked as Hoshi came back to the group from behind a rock that jutted out of a cliffside. Hoshi sat down in the midst of the group, looking forwards to another day of a traditional Afar meal. Milk and bread. Mostly a bread, sort of a bread. "Funny, Malcolm, funny." Several Afar laughed, remembering when Hoshi had been new here, and her first 'bathroom break' had resulted in her nearly being stung by a family of scorpions. That had been years ago; and this year, there was an alien in their midst. It'd purchased a sweater before coming out to this desolate place: according to it, this land carried a chill during the day. It was used to hotter climates...and this was the hottest place on Earth. It was an alien race called the KDL. This eight-eyed alien combined the features of a camel, a hammerhead shark, a pretty insect, and a pancake into one squashed-flat body. Like a chameleon, it could move each eye in a different direction from the others; eight different views all at once...Malcolm was afraid to ask if headaches were common. "What is your world like?" an inquisitive Afar girl asked. No blinking, not from an alien without eyelids. "Once, it was Paradise. Perfectly shaped to suit our needs. Dry, arid, windy. Perfection embodied. "Then we of my kind, we KDL, embarked to survey the Cosmos. When we returned to our world, it had changed. It was Fallen, some religions would term it. It had become Hell." "How so?" asked the tribe's Imam. "The continent we had evolved upon, sunk from polar melting. Our entire phyla, exterpated from the very planet we had arisen upon." As morosely as a pancake arthropod could do, he scooped up a small cup of milk, and tossed its contents down his throat. "HIC Is good drink." Several children laughed; to their minds, everyone knew that nobody could get drunk off of lactose-rich milk. "But you can still go home, right?" Hoshi asked. "Even if it changed a little?" "Little?? Would you inhabit a glaciated Earth? Land would continue to exist upon it, if changed in environs." --- SHUTTLEPOD, PRESENT DAY --- "C'mon, c'mon," Trip said. "Keep talking." The human voice carried easily over the whispery lapping of water into the lowest part of the shuttlepod. Malcolm grunted. "You're the one who can't sleep. Why does that mean you won't let me either?" Trip grinned. "I don't believe in suffering alone." He was grateful that at least Trip wasn't insisting Malcolm try standing up. Malcolm had a bad feeling that, if he did stand, however wobbly, his head would feel like it was about to cave in. Physical pain, he'd learned long ago, tended to affect the head in different ways--usually awkwardness, dizzyness, and such feelings were common. So, Malcolm did something to try to relieve the pain--or at least to distract himself from it. He said something in a definately non-English language, and without a trace of accent. Trip was right: keep talking, keep busy. "I'm sorry, should I get out the Vulcan dictionary?" Trip asked. "Only if you want to," Malcolm joked. "That was the language of the Huichols, a people of Earth. What I said was 'All this is to understand, to comprehend, to have one's life.' Uru Temay said that, back in the 20th Century AD." "That your personal credo, bucko?" "Largely, yes," Malcolm confirmed. "I didn't think I had to leave Earth to have my life. Hoshi disagreed." "So why didn't you stay on Earth while Hoshi went into space?" Trip asked, not seeing the matter. Malcolm didn't say that, he suspected that if Hoshi'd gone into space without him, she would've ended up with Trip. "Part of the reason we'd gotten married in the first place: so we could go places together." "Ahh, I see. The puzzle starts to make sense. So, you two have any cottages or estates in merry ol' England to retire to after this tour of duty's over?" Malcolm shot Trip as dirty a look as a wounded man could manage. "Ask Hoshi about hers. I look British to a degree, Mr. Tucker; I sound British because I learned English from a London native. If I were to speak Arabic to you, for example, I'd speak with a Somali accent." "Then what about your name?" "When I'd been born, I was given my grandfather's name; and he'd been a little bit British." "And the 'Reed'?" Trip inquired. "Can't say you inherited that...well, actually, you could..." Reed snorted. "It's a translation." Trip made an 'oooh' sound. "So...is it 'Hoshi Reed' or 'Malcolm Sato'?" "Neither. Hoshi kept her maiden name, because--" and he stopped, a look of alarm spreading over his face. Malcolm then said a 3-sylable curse word that didn't have--er,--able, or--ing in it. He would have said more, but Trip intervened. "What happened? A worm burrowing through yuir butt?" "Almost preferable, that. I can't believe I nearly forgot it!" "What? Forgot what?" "Hoshi's birthday is in two days. I can't believe I almost forgot it!" "Don't worry, Malcolm. I'm sure she'd understand us being a day or so late, between being stuck here, and everything that's happened lately." "I don't know..." "Seriously, it's not a problem. Enterprise'll pull us outta here, then we can have a--" "Quiet little celebration that only lasts half an hour." "Half an hour?? C'mon, I've had heartburn that lasts longer than that." Malcolm just looked at him quizzically. "Would you like a congratulations?" Trip snorted. "You've never met my aunt Mabel," Trip said. "Anne Mabel Maria Tucker-Smith. When she planned a party, it didn't end for at least two days." Malcolm started to choke on his peas. "Need some help?" "The onions are close enough to a pre-digested pap, Mr. Tucker, I don't think I need anymore of it." Trip chuckled at that. "But I don't think I'd get along with your aunt Mabel, no offense; I just can't handle formal occassions that last even three hours. Over a day, and..." this little shudder wasn't from pain or cold. Trip would've raised an eyebrow, but the very human gesture had been associated too much with Vulcans for his comfort. "Who the heck said a party has to be a formal occassion. Did you ever let your hair down before you joined--wait, you don't like formal stuff? How the heck did you get in Starfleet?" Malcolm looked down at an inches'worm crawling up the floor, and muttered something too low for human ears. "I'm sorry, but I didn't hear that," Trip said. "What was that?" "I was talked into it. A very long, very loud talking into." Trip shrugged. "At least you didn't get drunk one evening, and wake up the next day with a tattoo and a member of Starfleet." He hesitated. "Wait, that came out wrong." Malcolm couldn't help but laugh a little. "Actually, you're right. Well, I wasn't drunk, and I didn't get a tattoo for it, but I did wake up one day with a member of Starfleet." "I bet Hoshi was pissed at that." "Not really." "She wasn't??" Trip asked, astonished that Hoshi hadn't torn large chunks out of her husband for that sort of behavior. "Did she make you sleep in the doghouse at least?" "Excuse me?" Malcolm asked, wondering why Trip thought Hoshi would do something like that. After all, Hoshi'd joined Starfleet months before he finally did. [author's note: and, because of a typographical error, this scene is entered]... --- ENTERPRISE --- Jonathan Archer was sitting down in the Mess Hall when Ensign Mayweather sat down at his table with him. "Afternoon, Captain," he said, a mite curtly. "Afternoon, Ensign. Something on your mind?" he asked. "Did you really have to say that?" Travis asked. He'd been shocked to hear the Captain saying that. "Excuse me?" "Telling her that he's dead, just like that." Before Archer could reply, "Who's dead?" Dr. Phlox asked, passing by with a plate full of food. Travis pulled out a chair, and Phlox sat down at the table with them. "Captain Archer told Ensign Sato that her husband was dead. We don't know that either Lieutenant Reed or Commander Tucker are really dead." Archer noted how much Travis could sound like Trip. Phlox made an interested sound. "Was it a calm and calculated statement, or more of something delivered in a rush?" he inquired. Archer felt like they were talking around him, having forgotten that he was even here. "Somewhere in between them. I mean, he did say that none of us were going to give up hope...but he only said that after telling her that the Commander and Lieutenant were believed to be dead." "I see," Dr. Phlox said, then turned to the Captain. "Does this have to do with the Hssk'khr, Captain?" Phlox asks. "No," Archer said. "Are you certain? It would be quite understandable, given the number of challenges to your authority in the past few weeks. The 'Guzzlers', as Mr. Tucker nicknamed them--and a rather accurate translation of their name, actually. The physical assault upon yourself by several Hssk'khr." "I get your point, Doctor," Archer said, losing any appetite he'd had for the Hot Turkey Sandwich on the plate before him. "And maybe those did contribute, in some way, maybe they didn't. All I know is that I acted according to what I knew; but I hadn't expected that sort of a reaction." "'According to what you knew'?" Mayweather wanted to know. Archer nodded. "Hoshi always used to tell me, 'Tell me the worst first, so I can remember the better news better.' So that's what I did." "Her own advice appears to have backfired, based on what I've heard, Captain," Dr. Phlox said. Jonathan Archer could only nod. --- PLANETSIDE --- "Very good, this," Cutler said, drinking her soup. It was a Puu-aa creation, made from local-critter blood, plant mash, and something resembling insects; Elizabeth was grateful that it was edible. She'd just finished helping Hoshi--quiet, insular Hoshi--sip some of hers down, before Elizabeth had had any herself...aside from an initial tasting. Then she had a thought. "Are all the lakes, swamps, and pools fueled by hot springs?" Elizabeth asked. "No," the Puu-aa replied. "Some hot, some cold, some middling, some alkaline, some acidic, some middling." It peered at her with a whole set of eyespots--the freckles were eyes and camoflage. "Are contemplating plan?" "I am," she said. To go for help. To go to help. It depended upon the state of the shuttlecraft. "Can Puu-aa provide assistance?" Elizabeth didn't know if this set was offering itself, or the services of its' entire race. "Can you--the ones that are in this hut with me right now--keep watch over Hoshi? Don't let anyone in here, aside from me. Okay?" "Are capable of doing that." She nodded thanks, told it Thanks, and got up. Cutler hesitated at the doorway of the hut. There did exist a chance that she would become lost out there--maybe get boiled, maybe become lunch, maybe just wandering forever. There was a chance that Enterprise was on its way right now, and was just waiting for the clouds to part. There was a chance that Hoshi could pick herself up and carry on as though nothing had ever happened. There was a chance that pigs could fly. Elizabeth knew Hoshi; the girl had never been alone in her life. Accompanied by family, accompanied by dormmates, or accompanied by her husband, Hoshi had always had people close by. The possibility of losing Malcolm had brought her to this. Hoshi'd been resolute and single-minded when she'd been angry at Malcolm, before and after the trip to Risa...but Cutler had known that Hoshi still could fall back on Malcolm for support if she needed it. Now... Elizabeth turned around and headed over to Hoshi. Crouching by her, "Hoshi?" "Hrm?" "I'm going to go for a walk now," Elizabeth said, suspecting that Hoshi'd forgotten all about her. It was easy enough to do, and wouldn't have been the first time. "I'm going to go see if Malcolm's still alive." "Malcolm!?" with more energy than before, though not yet at normal volume. "Going to see Malcolm?" "Yes, I'm going to see Malcolm." If there was anything left to see. "I'm going too." "Hoshi, it's raining outside. You hate the rain." "I'm going," Hoshi said, "to find Malcolm." Elizabeth shrugged. "O-kay." To the Puu-aa, "Do you want to come with us?" And to her eyes, the composite being actually reminded her of a monk she once knew--a guy who found himself one day with no other choice but to walk right through a hotbed of temptation. "Will...will--will accompany," it said at last. All two & two dozen left the hut. Into the rain they went. --- SHUTTLEPOD --- "C'mon, just answer." "You're not going to let this drop, are you?" Malcolm asked. He was trying to take a nap...and take it before the closest thing to a couch in this shuttlepod was sopping wet. Water was still coming in, never quickly. It didn't need to be quick, it was just continual...Rather like Trip's questionings. "Nope." Malcolm grumbled something in a Turkic dialect. "Fine, fine," he said in English. "My family translated our family name into 'Reed'...because of the Vulcans." Trip nearly chortled. "How's that?" "Who first contacted the Vulcans?" Malcolm asked. "Zephram Cocran." "What linguistic nationality was he?" "Excuse me?" "What language or language family did he speak?" "English, of course." Malcolm nodded. "And, ever since then, what language have the Vulcans used in all their talks with humans?" "English. Look, if there's a point here, maybe you need to sharpen it...or at least point it out." "The Vulcans are monolingual, Commander, in case you haven't noticed. They only have one language, and they treat everyone else accordingly--if Zephram had spoken Chinese, then the Vulcans would have used Chinese in all their dealing with Earth." "Okay...so? What does that have to do with 'Reed'?" "Anglophones and Anglophonic-named people were the ones the Vulcans prefered to deal with." "You guys changed your name because of the Vulcans?" Trip asked, trying hard not to laugh out loud. He was all set to do the L.O.L.R.O.T.F.L.M.A.O. routine, were it not that that would hurt too much. Malcolm just looked at him. "You think it was the first time people have ever done something like that, to get in good with the new power brokers?" --- TWO HOURS LATER --- Cold rain. Two hours' full of cold rain. Elizabeth made her eighty-fifth mental note to have a chat with the tailors over at Starfleet--the waterproof windbreakers Starfleet'd handed out, they weren't very effective against long-term use in cold weather. She'd also noted that, while some of the local biofauna and bioflora were composed of identical types--like the leeches of the Puu-aa--there were some things composed of differing types, like the larger trees. And some of those tree-things, said the Puu-aa that was still with them, had been shorn of their tops. They were on the right path. "Have--have to--haveto find..." Hoshi said, shivering in the rain, her gaze piercing and intent. Single-minded. Cutler was afraid of what they might find at the shuttlepod, of how Hoshi might react if Malcolm really and truly was dead. She might curl up on herself, and not emerge until Enterprise returned them to Earth--if even then. Elizabeth wasn't sure how long Hoshi was going to last. In her mind, Cutler began to form her report for the eventuality that only one of them survived. A tapir-bird grackled from its branch, diving into a nearby pool. Within her head, even as rain pelted her & her windbreaker hood, Hoshi thought to herself... *I asked Malcolm to come with me, to come into outer space with me. He was reluctant, but he agreed to. I was so happy that he'd come, that we were on the same ship, that I didn't even think about this sort of downside. *I don't think I would have wanted to think about it. *Like the KDL, I've left the safety of the world I knew...and when I look around now, the entire world's different. Nothing familiar or reassuring. Like the KDL, I've Fallen into a Hell. But, while their world might one day dry out, there will--can never be another Malcolm Reed. My lifeline, my soulpartner, my friend is gone. And I can't do anything about that! That's what burns at me, is just how helpless I am. I'm an ant, mourning her anthill being stepped on by an indifferent shoe...no, stepped on by a tractor trailer. The Puu-aa held itself together as best it could, the concentration needed for that task robbing required energy from the eyespots. Vision reduced from greyness to the LightDark*--which any segment could do on its own. A few toes, already underwater, broke off from the collection, and swam off for the spawning which so many other Puu-aa were doing. But this was a new thing. This holding-togetherness, new and odd, a violation of instinct and biological clocks. Odd like human. New like human. --- ON ENTERPRISE --- +Journal Of Captain Jonathan Archer. +Maybe Travis and Phlox are right. Maybe I let my annoyance get the better of me. Part of me was still stinging from Hoshi's triumph over me with the Hssk'khr, and I didn't even realize it until...until it was too late. +I can remember one of the things my father told me: 'Stay professional, Jonny, or the Vulcans win.' T'Pol hasn't said anything about the incident, but I can about imagine what she's telling the Vulcan High Council and Science Directorate. +As soon as we have communication with the surface again, I'm going to apologize to Hoshi. I just hope she's alright. +God, I hope she didn't do anything as rash as I did.+ --- PLANETSIDE --- Cutler noted with a mash of relief and annoyance, that the sheared-off tops to the trees weren't angling down very sharply. Relief that the more gradual the angle meant that somebody'd survived in the shuttlepod to land semi-gracefully, and thus have greater odds of surviving the crash landing. Annoyance that it was likely going to be a very long, very wet walk. "Ow!" Elizabeth cursed, elevating her just-now-injured foot. Embedded in the flesh above her ankle, there was a sharp beak--or a large tooth--attached to a coiled-up worm. Maybe a mollusc. Whatever the cladistic loyalties the critter had, Elizabeth just wanted it out...but she didn't yank it out, in case that beak was serrated. Their Puu-aa companion(s) reached one leg-set over to Cutler's leg, and rasped against the coiled worm. Standing one-legged, their guide(s) was eating it alive. Within a minute, there was nothing left to the coiled worm but for the beak, which was eased out by the toe-leeches and ankle-leeches. One more lesson from the jungle: Not everything spawned in the wet season. "Thank you," Elizabeth said. "For digesting a rarity?" Cutler mentally cursed at herself, then chuckled. She'd been attacked by an endangered species, and thanked someone for killing it. More shades of grey she said to herself. Hoshi was confused, and sullen, though she had been concerned for Elizabeth--fear of infection in a damp tropical enviroment. But the sullenness was ascendant, with little chance of being toppled. So Hoshi did what she did best: she asked questions. She hoped to get a modivation for herself from them. "You depend on the workings of your parts to survive, right?" "Those which are interconnected," the Puu-aa answered, holding together through a forced collective will. Three finger-leeches had fallen away in the walk since the loss of those toe-leeches earlier. TogetherTogether* was the chant recited by the remaining parts. "Do you prefer to be interconnected, or apart?" "'Prefer'?" asked a baffled set of alien. "Do you like the experiences you have as a unified whole more than you like the experiences you have as an unconnected lot?" "Each is each. Different weights, different reasons." Apples vs oranges "You can survive on your own, each unit?" "A truth." "Are the units intelligent when they aren't together?" The Puu-aa didn't answer. Couldn't answer. --- IN THE PAST --- Malcolm and Hoshi got off the bus with some of the other tourists to this part of rural Australia. "Ahh, and there ye be," a woman said to them. "I'd been wondering when or if you were ever a'coming." "Hello to you too," Malcolm said. "Nice to see you, and yes, we're getting along spendidly, tip-top health and all that." They both looked at each other, grinned, and embraced, slapping each other on the back. Hoshi just stood there, watching Malcolm and this strange woman. Hoshi had thought she was going to meet Malcolm's sister, a woman her new husband had described as 'the other Black Sheep of the Reed family, aside from me.' The embrace was broken, and Malcolm stepped back to where Hoshi was still standing. "I'd heard you'd gotten married, Malcolm," the other woman said. "Just wasn't sure I'd ever get to meet the lucky one." "Amy, this is Hoshi," Malcolm said. "Hoshi, this is my sister." "Hullo," Amy said, shaking Hoshi's hand, a mite out of practice, after so long a time spent with Earth-visiting aliens who didn't shake hands...some didn't even have hands. "Hi," Hoshi said. "It's an honor to meet you. Malcolm's--" "Told you absolutely nothing about me, I'm sure," Amy said, a smile on her face. "You don't need to be too polite around me. Just don't try killing me, and we'll get along." "O-kay," Hoshi said, bewildered. "So, where is this partner of yours?" Malcolm asked. "She busy elsewhere?" "No, brother mine, he's over in that crowd of people. C'mon, you're just in time to watch." "'Watch'?" Malcolm asked, nearly choking on the word. Amy laughed. "Not that sort. Snake wrangling," and led them to the crowd, then to the front of the crowd. The crowd had been gathered around a fenced oval; within the oval as a sloping depression. At the bottom of the gradual slope, "There he is," Amy pointed out to Malcolm. When he saw who Amy's partner was, Malcolm nearly choked. It was a bird, a Secretary Bird to be precise. Or rather, as much of a bird as humans were still monkeys. Long legs, long neck, and quill-like feathers atop the head. But most of the feathers, at least along the back, looked as though they hadn't finished making the evolutionary transition from scale to feather. The 'wings' were feathered arms, useless for flying. While it was more humanoid than, say, a KDL; this was less humanoid than a Vulcan. And the partner was walking up to meet them, taking naturally long strides. "Malcolm," Amy introduced, "meet Jass." Hoshi recognized the species Jass belonged to: the Ouwb. "Hello, Jass," Malcolm said, not sure if he should extend a hand for shaking. "Hellos, Malcolm," Jass said, not holding out his own hand for shaking, since humans were stronger than Ouwb--Ouwb bones broke easily. The avian head swiftly spun around to look at Amy. "Amy, time to begin." Amy nodded, and got in the ring. One of Amy's coworkers, from the Australian Venom Institute, released one of the surplus Taipans from a holding bag. The crowd gasped and backed up a few steps. Amy and Jass paid them no heed, focusing entirely on the Taipan--one of the most venomous snakes on Earth. It was a careful, cautious dance the three of them made: snake, human, alien. Strike and lunge, extend a hand and dodge, reach and lure. The human instinct was to pull back, get away from the snake. The Ouwb instinct was to get closer, to impale the snake. Both Amy and Jass were reining in their instincts: they were catching the snakes, not killing, not eating. Every action each of the three made, each move taken, was deliberate. The Taipan was not intelligent, but evolution had honed the targeting calculations in all snakes. It saw the Ouwb not as an alien, but simply as a predator, a threat; but it saw more than just the Ouwb in such a way. Then, shocking everyone--including Malcolm--the Taipan managed to connect its fangs with Amy's hand. Injection. Envenomation. And in less time than it took the human eye to blink, Jass beheaded the responsible serpent, shoving it aside, out of the way. He gingerly removed the head from Amy's hand. Jass coiled around Amy, the dorsal feather-scales puffed up defensively, protectively. Holding the dying was not a purely human trait. And it was one of the few times that Hoshi had ever seen Malcolm cry. Tears of fear. Tears as Malcolm and Amy's co-workers rushed past the fence. *[note: in real life, I don't think there's an Australian Venom Institute]. --- IN THE PRESENT --- Amy's coworkers had applied anti-venom in time, saving Amy's life. 'The third time I've been bitten in seven years' Amy had later said; ''tis fourth' Jass had corrected. Malcolm couldn't help but wonder, here and now, if Hoshi was feeling the same way about him, as Jass had felt about Amy's dying. "Are you sure we can't send any signals out?" he asked Trip. "Sure as I'm in here with you," Trip replied. "Besides, even if we could, the storm's acting up some big-time interference between us and Enterprise." "Not heading up. I mean if we were to try sending a message to Hoshi and Elizabeth." "'Elizabeth'? You got yourself a harem, Malcolm?" Trip asked, teasing. The two of them were getting along better, having patched up a few things between them. _"Hayir,"_ Malcolm said. "But do you think enough of the electronics survived to do that much?" "Send something horizontally 'stead of vertically?" Trip considered it. "It just might work. It might be nothing fancier than Morse Code, mind you." "At least it would be something." "I hear ya," said Trip, who agreed whole-heartedly. "By the way...nah." "What?" Malcolm asked. "It's nothing." "If it were nothing, why'd you say something." "You'd laugh." "You said something so I'd laugh?" "No, I thought about saying something, but you'd just laugh if I said what I was gonna say." "I won't laugh, provided you say it within the next five minutes." Malcolm yawned from an inner exhaustion before adding, "Keep hemming and hawing, Mr. Tucker, and I won't be responsible for my actions." Though he wasn't sure why he was exhausted, unless it had to do with the effort he expended to keep from moving or thinking about his wounded leg. "Allright. There's nothing between you and Crewman Cutler, right?" "I'm not going to dignify that with a response." "Is that a Yes?" Malcolm glared at Trip, though it was a light glare; he didn't feel up to heavy glares quite yet. Malcolm was tempted to retort with a 'She's my wife's cousin!', but didn't. "Was that the question you feared my laughter?" "Well, no." "Then what was?" "I was going to ask if you thought I'd stand a chance if I asked her if she'd like to go out on a date." Uncaring that the action had been appropriated by the Vulcans, Malcolm raised an eyebrow. --- OUTSIDE --- "'Yea, slimey things did crawl with legs, "'Upon the slimey sea.'" "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Hoshi asked Elizabeth. Elizabeth paused in her reciting of the Ancient Mariner's tale, to grin at Hoshi. She suspected that, between the two of them, they didn't have a single dry garment on them, so drenching and engulfing was the rain. And the rain was even still giving no sign of letting up, even for a few minutes. "To a point," Cutler said, then sniffled. She just hoped she wasn't starting to come down with a cold; not fancying her chances against a collective-virus. "Story interesting in extremes and centers," the Puu-aa told them, as they clambered over a half-submerged fallen log that was in their way. "Continuing?" "Elizabeth, no," Hoshi said. "Have to give a good reason," Elizabeth said, feeling like the two of them had slipped back to their teen years. If not for the rain, the ever-downpouring rain. The unending, the never-ceasing deluge, the-- "'Puff, the magic dragon...'" Hoshi started to sing. "Alright, alright already!" Cutler exclaimed, and spat into the muddy froth that lolled and flowed past their feet "What is--?" the Puu-aa started to ask. "It's a long story," Cutler said, ending the conversation. --- HOURS LATER, ENTERPRISE --- "Captain," T'Pol said, leaning over the sensors yet again. There were times that Mayweather wondered if the SubCommander was trying to seduce the sensors. "There is a ship on approach." Archer stood up from his chair. "Let me see," he said. And when the other ship's image appeared on screen, he nearly sat back down. It was a coiled-up shape, just like an ammonite--or the shells of the Hssk'khr. Jonathan had to remind himself that the Hssk'khr wouldn't have any reason to be here...and that besides, their ships didn't look like that. "Open hailing frequencies. Archer looked over at T'Pol. "Do we know anything about this race?" "It does not match any known profiles," T'Pol said. "Open hailing frequencies anyway." --- SOON, PLANETSIDE --- "I spy," Trip said, while he continued to work on what remained of the wires, "with my little eye, something beginning with S." "Ship." "Nope." "Shuttlepod." The smaller and more subtle items had already been used up. "You got it. Yuir turn." "I spy," Malcolm said, "with my little eye, something beginning with--is the door being jostled?" "Ha ha, funny. You're no Dr Seuss, Malcolm, so try real letters." "I'm serious. I think somebody's trying to--" and again the sound, audible now even to Trip. Someone or something was trying to break into the shuttlepod. Trip looked to Malcolm, and Malcolm looked to Trip. Neither of them was in any shape to be fighting, nor did the shuttlepod have any weapons in it. "We're in trouble," Malcolm said. "Pessimist," Trip accused. "No, I'm a realist." --- TEN MINUTES LATER --- "Any minute now," Trip said, strangling a yawn. Fear only lasted so long, and it left the body reacting to all the adrenaline that'd rushed through the body. "Didn't you say that five minutes ago?" Malcolm joked. "Funny." Just then, the door wrenched open--and fell off. "I'll be--you were right." "Hello?" Hoshi called in from outside the shuttlepod, her voice tinny against the thundering of the rain. Luckily, there was no thunder proper. "Hoshi, "Trip said, "I'm so happy to see you, I could kiss you. "But I'll let Malcolm do that, instead," he said as Sato and Cutler entered the shuttlepod, a strange alien in tow. The rain continued to fall. "How generous," Malcolm said, trying not to quip. "You two didn't try to kill each other?" Cutler asked. The rain kept falling. "Well, we tried," Trip said. "But after a while, we called a truce." "What to be doing now?" asked the Puu-aa. Rain, rain, rain evermore. "All we need to do now," Trip said, "is patch a call through to Enterprise. I just finished repairs to the comms, and there's an outside chance that it just might work." "Small problem with that," Cutler said. There was no rainfall. "Do you hear that?" Hoshi asked. "For once, no," said Trip. Everybody went outside. Hoshi acted as Malcolm's crutch; a bewildered Puu-aa walked outside alone--not-alone; and Elizabeth stood alongside Trip, in case he needed any help. The rain for a full hectare, had stopped. But when they looked up, through the broken tree-colonies, they saw the reason. "Holy..." Trip said. "I told you the rain was a bad thing," Hoshi said. "I didn't think there were hallucinagens in it," Elizabeth said in a quiet voice. "It's a ship," Malcolm said. And it was. There was a giant ship overhead. Clouds surrounded that ship on the left, right, fore & aft sides--but none of the rainclouds could get below it. "A rain shadow," Elizabeth said. "And here comes a ship," said Trip, pointing to an approaching object. "From Enterprise?" Hoshi asked. Nobody knew. Nobody answered. Everybody awaited. --- The End