They travelled for three days, always on the look out for those responsible for bringing them to this world but found only more species of timid animals and exotic birds.
Kirk rubbed at his still smooth chin. There were no signs of stubble which gave him some idea of how long it had been since they had left the Enterprise. He had renewed his three monthly depilatory before the mission to Thadea. The journey to the planet plus the duration of their mission had amounted to twenty days. They could not have been on this world for too long.
They stayed in the shade as much as possible but it did not prevent the inevitable reddening of his exposed skin. He had tried various plant saps but as yet had found none to protect him against the sun's rays. His feet were becoming blistered even though he only walked barefoot part of the time. Although they were gradually toughening up, he looked forward to the end of the day when he could soak them in the blissful coolness of the stream.
His Starfleet clothing was impractical for the constant humid weather and had become increasingly uncomfortable to wear. He could have done with the tropical gear issued to personnel assigned to this type of planetary condition.
"Let's take a break, Spock," he said. "It's getting too hot to travel anyway."
Very well, Jim, Spock replied.
Kirk shaded his eyes with his hands and looked up at the lilac, cloudless sky, careful not stare directly into the blinding golden sun. A little rain would have been welcome but there was no sign of any. They sheltered in the comparative shade of the trees and Kirk stripped, ran over to the lake and waded in. The water soothed his skin and he swam for a time, revelling in the sheer joy of it.
The thought of putting on his sweaty uniform was not a pleasant one so he decided to wash it again. As he emerged from the lake he saw Spock running towards him. Something was wrong. He sprinted to meet his friend.
Your clothes are gone, Spock said.
"What do you mean, gone? I left them over there."
I was searching for food. I heard nothing, Jim, but became aware of a psionic presence nearby. On returning to our campsite I saw your clothes gathered up like a small whirlwind then they simply vanished.
Kirk could not contain his anger. "Those interfering bastards! So they're playing with us." He stood up and raised a fist in defiance at the unseen observers. "Are you enjoying yourselves? I sure hope so because if I ever get my hands on you, I'll wring your goddam necks. You might not find that so much fun."
Spock pressed against his side. Jim, this is pointless. We must use our energies to find suitable clothing for you. I urge you to take shade at once. The solar rays are dangerous.
Reining in his bitterness, Kirk yielded to his friend's logic and followed him to their camp where he sat down and fumed.
They have taken your pack, Jim, yet have left the axe, Spock said. This implies that they do not want to leave you defenceless.
"Maybe they're testing my ability as a tailor," Kirk said, not hiding his sarcasm. "I'm a starship captain,"
Not a tailor, Spock finished.
Kirk's mouth opened then he started to laugh. His anger melted away and he hugged Spock. "I thought Vulcan's never joke."
Vulcans do not joke. There was a touch of innocence in Spock's voice.
"Of course, Mr Spock," Kirk said. His good humour restored, Kirk turned his thoughts to what he could use for clothing. There was nothing here which could be adapted. Not even a fig leaf. He grimaced. "All right, we'll find something sooner or later. If the worst comes to the worst, I can cut your fur, and knit myself a garment."
Really, Captain. I am a cat not a sheep.
Kirk rubbed the black fur through his fingers. "It's looking good to me."
****
Spock walked by his captain's side, keeping pace with him despite the fact that in the animal form, he could move much faster. Occasionally, he would scout ahead but did not stray far. The aliens were capricious. It was impossible to tell what they might do next. Despite his initial displeasure, Kirk was being pragmatic about his lack of clothes. Yet it was a serious matter and needed to be resolved. Already the human's skin was becoming reddened and painful.
As night approached, they went deeper into the forest and found a wide stream. While Kirk bathed his aching feet, Spock climbed a tree and once again surveyed the surrounding area. There was little to see; the forest stretched for endless kilometres to the farthest reaches of his vision, just as it had on previous times. He carefully turned and looked out over the vast lake glimmering mysteriously under the starlight. In the distance a glowing, silver island beckoned but it was too far to reach without a boat.
Spock was coming as close as he had ever been to despair. For all the distance covered, they were still no nearer to their goal of reaching the aliens unless, of course, they wished to be found. Spock was certain now that he and Jim were being monitored. The incident with the clothes proved it and sometimes he felt the shadow of a presence, an elusive awareness touching their minds. Night after night, he had attempted to communicate telepathically with them but their captors clearly did not wish to answer.
Wearily, he began to descend but as he slithered down the other side of the trunk his claws caught on a soft substance. Interested by its texture he found his balance and investigated. It was approximately three metres long and one metre wide and hung over a protruding branch as if discarded by some creature who no longer required it. Spock sniffed at the material. He noted its circular patterning and different shades of gold. It seemed perfect and, careful not to tear it, he picked it up with his teeth. He braced himself for the delight this find would cause his unsuspecting friend when it was dropped in front of him.
After jumping to the ground he waited, as Kirk finished bathing, his thoughts turning to the creature who had once worn this skin. It was likely some large alien-ophidian, perhaps a menace to the human. Spock resolved to increase his vigilance for this planet might hold many dangers and it was his duty as a Starfleet officer - as a friend - to protect Jim.
As Kirk ran his fingers through his wet hair, Spock growled softly for attention and was not disappointed by the excited response to his discovery. The captain knelt beside him, picked up the soft, thin material, and stared at it.
"What is this, Spock. Where did you get it?" Kirk tested its strength, stroked the surface, and examined the vibrant colours.
Spock waited for the hand contact on his head, then explained. I believe it is the skin of this planet's equivalent of the snake. I found it abandoned on the tree. Perhaps it will make suitable apparel for you.
"It sure will," Kirk said. "It's lightweight, soft, and strong. I'm not an expert with needle and thread even if I had them, but this can be cut to make a loincloth and the vine can be used as a drawstring. Well done, Spock."
I merely found it, Jim. Random factors...
"Luck," Kirk interrupted.
Spock decided to ignore the bait and speak instead of the dangers. The creature this once belonged to may yet be nearby.
"Or others like it," Kirk added with a wry grin. "I'll be careful."
During the next mid-day rest period, Kirk washed the snakeskin then began his attempt to make himself a practical garment After several hours of frustrated endeavour and muttered references to a person named Tarzan, he held up the finished product for Spock's inspection.
Adequate, Captain, Spock commented after a lengthy, private perusal of the observations he could make without hurting human feelings.
"Adequate!" Kirk exclaimed as he sucked on a bruised finger. "You bet your furry..." He gulped the word back. "Um - tail, it's adequate!"
Indeed, Captain, but not exactly 'haute couture', Spock replied, deciding to be honest and perhaps inject a touch of humour into his words to distract his volatile friend.
Kirk's eyes widened in mock indignation. "And what do you know about 'haute couture' my Vulcan Science Officer?"
Enough to be convinced that although you are an excellent starship commander, as a tailor you leave much to be desired.
"Well of all the..." Kirk spluttered.
Spock attempted to raise an eyebrow but, as before, his tail thumped the ground. Annoyed at his body's interpretation of his mind's orders, he did not notice the human's attack until muscular arms grabbed him from behind. Growling in surprise he tried to shake the heavy weight from him but Kirk straddled him, digging hard knees into his ribs and could not be dislodged. Delighted laughter assaulted his ears and willing to indulge Jim's playful mood, Spock allowed himself to roll about on the grass, careful to keep claws retracted and teeth well away from the vulnerable skin.
Finally escaping, he stood with his back arched - mouth hanging open - in a parody of a menacing, wild beast. Kirk scrambled to his feet, dancing on the spot, fists raised - shadow boxing. Spock stalked forward. Kirk retreated then stepped a few paces towards him. Spock laughed inside at the illogic of the situation, finding to his surprise how much he was enjoying the infantile behaviour he had become involved in. In this changed body it was simple to relax Vulcan restraint and play the pet while still maintaining his primary role as guardian to his t'hy'la.
"C'mon, put up a fight," Kirk challenged. "You're meant to be a wild thing, aren't you?"
In reply, Spock widened the wolfish smile and showed sharp, gleaming teeth. A roar, which he could not control, emerged from his throat and exhilaration swept through him. His prey was close, ready to be taken. The man would not be able to stand against him.
"Are you trying to frighten me, Spock?" Kirk asked with a grin.
The growl deepened. Spock's long tongue snaked out to lick the sides of his mouth. His nostrils dilated as the scent of the human intoxicated his carnivorous senses. He could smell the prey's fear. He could almost taste its juicy flesh as he sank his teeth into that vulnerable throat.
Yes. Stalk.
Make it fear you.
Teeth ripping its flesh apart.
Prey. Food. Mine. Kill.
The prey's eyes grew enormous as they stared down at him and a tremor ran through its body. It made sounds which he could not at first distinguish but he concentrated and a familiar voice sliced through his mind.
"What's happening to you? Spock, Spock, listen to me. You're doing a damn good job of scaring me. The animal's taking you over."
No, he cried, forcing down the base instincts. I am a Vulcan. I am Spock.
Afraid he had destroyed his friend's trust in him, Spock dropped his menacing pose, sidled over and lay on the ground at Jim's feet. Kirk was silent for several seconds before settling into a cross-legged position beside Spock and stroking his furred back.
Forgive me, Spock said. I could not control. Something within me took over. I have been subliminally aware of it before but could not find its source.
Kirk's relief flowed through his fingertips into Spock's body. It's okay. I should never have teased you that far. I'm the one who should apologise. I didn't realise what could happen. Is there any way you could trace what caused this?
It might be possible to track it during deep meditation. However, I would be loath to attempt it at present. It would require time and privacy.
What do you think it is?
I would surmise that some part of the animal's personality has been implanted within me. Kirk's sympathy was a comfort to the shaken Vulcan. It will not happen again, Jim. It will never again control me. I will control it.
They sat in silence, re-establishing their absolute trust in one another after the momentary lapse. Spock rested his head on the human's knees, soaked in the understanding and soothing thoughts through the touch, and dozed for a time in the warmth of the mind-contact.
****
Kirk continued to caress the smooth fur, his concern for Spock partly abated. It had been difficult enough for the Vulcan to cope with being shape-shifted, but to discover that he could be vulnerable to some kind of animal implant would be a severe blow to his confidence. Kirk resolved to do all in his power to help Spock deal with this unforeseen and distressing problem.
He watched the various forest animals scurrying around, idly interested in their antics. Suddenly his attention was drawn to a tiny mammal which clambered up and down a tree, like a monkey, with its baby balancing on its back. But there all resemblance ended for it was furless; its smooth pink skin glistened when highlighted by the shafts of sunlight filtering through the foliage. Pointed ears, two gleaming green eyes, vestigial tail, and a horn-like protuberance on the forehead proclaimed its alien birth. Kirk watched fascinated as the creature used the horn to shred a sliver of bark from the tree until a clear liquid appeared. It proceeded to lap the fluid oozing from the shallow cut then spread it on the baby until the little one was completely covered.
Kirk waited until the mammal had scampered away before going over to examine the tree trunk. The sap had crusted; the tiny amount of damage done by the animal already beginning to heal. Thoughtfully, Kirk reached for his hand-axe and eased a small piece of bark away. As the sap oozed out, he touched it with his thumb and sniffed at the glistening drop. The sweet smell was pleasant and, relying on instinct alone, he smeared a little onto his sunburnt arms. It was cool and soothing. Perhaps he had found the skin protection needed from the solar rays but cautious after his reaction to the 'strawberry', he decided to wait and see if there were any adverse effects.
Spock - awake now - had been watching him. Kirk reached down to touch him and reported his find. Spock sniffed at the liquid, which was now sliding slowly down the tree, licked it then assured Kirk that in his opinion the substance seemed harmless. But to be on the safe side, Kirk waited a full day. Only when there were no signs of illness or skin damage did he decide to use the creamy substance on his reddened skin. The relief was profound and soon he was covering his whole body with it. The trees which produced the sap were plentiful so there would be no shortage of supply.
As the days passed, his skin darkened into a deep bronze tan and his hair became streaked with golden-blond highlights. On studying his reflection in the lake, Kirk remembered that his hair colour during his teenage days had been identical to this.
His loincloth was cool and comfortable and he fashioned a second one out of the remaining material. He was also able to make a simple head covering and another small pack. He felt healthier than he had done for years. The simple, nutritious almost fat-free diet, the exercise, the pressure of starship command off his shoulders, and his friend's comfortable companionship combined to boost his sense of well-being. It would have been idyllic if they had been on a few weeks shore-leave, but always at the back of his mind were the questions. Who kidnapped them and why? Where was the Enterprise? Would they ever leave this planet?
After further travelling, they noted that the forest was growing closer to the lakeside. Would the two eventually meet? How much longer would they be able to follow the shoreline?
One warm evening, as they sat by the shimmering waters, staring out at the distant island Kirk sighed and asked, "Will it never end? Will our captors ever contact us?" He looked down and began to chip at a piece of serrated bone with his latest tool, a much improved version of his hand-axe, made from an ivory-type tusk from a long dead animal.
Spock lay with his nose pressed to the human's knee. They will reveal themselves when they deem it time, Jim.
Kirk smiled a little. He still found it uncanny that they could communicate so easily now. Their rapport was so strong that any touch could bring their minds together. It was so natural to talk telepathically that sometimes he forgot to speak out loud.
The Enterprise seems so far away. Our life there is almost like a dream. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids. I only hope she's all right.
Mr. Scott is perfectly capable, Jim. He will persist in his efforts to locate us.
I know you're right, Spock. I just wish I knew what was going on.
****
Spock resolved to bring Kirk out of his depression before it became too deep. With a soft growl he jumped to his feet, trotted to the water and waded in. Soon he was swimming powerfully, and occasionally glancing over to the quiet man sitting on the bank. It would be simple to rouse his friend from his introspection for he knew exactly what to do and within a few seconds he reached his target, proceeded to shake himself, and soaked the unsuspecting Kirk in the process.
"HEY!" Kirk yelled. "You big mutt!" He scrambled away from the onslaught.
Spock chased him and soon Kirk had dissolved into gales of laughter as he was caught and trapped beneath the wet animal body. There was no inkling of fear from him and Spock was pleased. Although he was certain that he could control the implanted urges, he was still concerned that Jim might harbour some doubt about Vulcan ability to do so.
Do you submit? he asked, his tail sweeping Kirk's bare feet.
"Yes," Kirk gasped between breathless laughter. "But you're taking advantage of a weak and defenceless human."
Indeed, Spock agreed. However, I would not describe you as either weak or defenceless.
"Let me up, you bully," Kirk ordered in a command tone laced with a touch of mock indignation.
Spock complied and sat down, meekly watching as Jim regained his composure. There was a gleam in hazel eyes which the Vulcan knew meant revenge was being planned. He stoically waited as Kirk retrieved the serrated bone and crouched down beside him.
"I think you need a grooming," Kirk said lightly. "Sit still."
Jim, it is not necessary! Spock exclaimed
"I'm still your captain and if I say you need a grooming then you will allow it. What a mess you're in! Can't let my first officer go around looking like a shaggy dog, um cat, whatever. You can't use a comb yourself, so I volunteer."
It was hopeless. Spock sighed resignedly but it emerged as a whine. Well, he had intended to remove Jim's depression and had - without doubt - succeeded. If the price was to be 'groomed', he would gladly pay it but many long minutes later as his tail was lifted and carefully combed, he wondered if he would ever live this episode down.
Kirk leaned back on his elbows and surveyed his work. "Hmm, you look very smart, Mr. Spock. Go admire yourself."
Yes, Captain, Spock replied. He obediently walked to the lake and stared in. The perfectly smooth-furred, gleaming creature looking back at him was a handsome sight in its own fierce way.
Kirk came over, hung an arm around his neck and gazed at their reflections. Now you're fit to be seen with, Mr. Spock. Shame on you. Where did that Vulcan elegance disappear to?
Really, Captain, Spock exclaimed. It is beneath your dignity as my commanding officer to concern yourself with my appearance.
Oh, that's where you're wrong, First Officer. My crews' appearance reflects on my command.
There was a certain logic in Kirk's words despite the light-hearted teasing and, with only a touch of reluctance, Spock conceded to him. Very well, sir. I stand corrected.
Thank you, Mr. Spock, Kirk responded with excessive politeness. Now if you will excuse me.
Where are you going, Captain? Spock asked. On this unknown world with its alien dangers, he had barely allowed his friend out of his sight.
Kirk grinned. There are certain things one has to do in private, Spock. I'll just be over there, behind the giant tree.
Spock felt the blush even though it did not show on his fur-covered body. Of course he had given the human time alone for personal ablutions, as he too had been permitted privacy for the basic animal functions. Very well, Captain, he said.
I'll be careful, Spock, Kirk said.
****
Kirk lingered to look at an unusual flower on a low-growing bush. It was multi-coloured with muted blues and greens on its twisted stem, glowing reds, vibrant purples and cool yellows on its elongated petals, and a bright gold-encrusted stamen. This planet was a botanist's dream. Sulu would be in heaven here investigating the exotic flora.
He heard an impatient growl behind him and, with a grin, turned around and spread his arms out in apology. "I'm coming, Spock. Just take a look at this flower it's..."
Bloodshot eyes stared malevolently at him. The brute's black fur was thick and matted; its thin back arched in anticipation as it lifted a paw and swiped the air with obvious intent. Kirk's throat caught and a shiver ran through him as he realised his error. He dared not shout in case the noise encouraged the beast to attack yet a part of him rebelled at the idea of Spock being forced to fight with this animal and he glanced around, desperate to find anything which might deter it.
Other pairs of gleaming eyes watched him from the shadows, like cats stalking their prey. He controlled his unsteady breathing and edged towards the lakeside. His crude weapons were with Spock. He doubted they would be of any use against this pack of wild animals however they might have given him some feeling of security.
Suddenly an eerie roar split the night stillness.
A flash of fur passed him and there was a second roar, blood-curdling in its intensity.
Spock.
RUN. The telepathic command reverberated inside his skull. Run to the lake, Jim.
Kirk did not question Spock's order for a moment. His heart pounding wildly, he sprinted at break-neck speed towards the beckoning water. On reaching the lake he stopped and twisted around to see his friend facing a group of ten sabre-tooth animals. Spock's fur was raised; his large ears had flattened against his head and his tail swished violently from side to side. His massive jaws were wide open and issuing warning growls.
No, Kirk pleaded silently. Spock, you don't have a chance.
He saw his rucksack on the ground a few metres away and dived over to retrieve his weapons. Challenging snarls startled him further and he spun towards the confrontation as a large beast separated from the pack. Kirk's heart sank as he noted how much it outweighed the others there - including Spock. Obviously it was the leader and ready to fight for its right as the dominant male.
Kirk reviewed his knowledge on animal behaviour although he knew it was probably inadequate for this alien world. Even if Spock did win, there was no certainty that the others would accept the victory and obey him. If he lost...
A shudder permeated Kirk's very soul. He remembered how the animal nature had claimed Spock and how horrified his friend had been, seeking reassurance in a way he never had before. Now if the Vulcan permitted the animal to dominate and fight in its natural manner how would Spock come to terms with bestial savagery? Kirk knew, only too well, how difficult it was for Spock to use force even in the line of duty.
The two animals continued to challenge one another in a primitive display of aggressive body language as the pack watched intently from the shelter of the forest.
All Kirk could do was observe. There was no way to help Spock and he wished for a phaser, although the thought was useless, unless...
He reached out with his mind. Help us, he asked the unknown watchers. This game has gone far enough. Do you want us to die here to amuse you? Well all right. But let them take me, spare my friend. Don't allow him to fight. He is the most civilised of beings. This will destroy him. Please. Save him.
Only silence greeted his pleas but, somehow sensing he had been heard, Kirk continued, I don't know why you kidnapped us, violated our minds, changed Spock's body, but if it's a test, surely you must realise by now that you'll never undermine our friendship. We would willingly die for one another.
He was distracted by the sounds of a violent battle now taking place a short distance away. The snarling animals were rolling on the ground, claws and teeth fully employed as they tore at one another. Kirk's eyes misted as he found himself unable to decide which beast was Spock. They fought in a tangle of fur, the epitome of viciousness, two males struggling for dominance but for very different reasons. Spock for the life of his friend, the other for leadership of the pack.
Kirk slumped to his knees and watched in horrified fascination until the victor would be decided. There was nothing he could do and he cursed his helplessness, and the uncaring beings who had brought them here and placed Spock in such a vulnerable position.
If you have any compassion, intercede for him, he tried again. Save him and leave me to die.
The two combatants began to tire. There were numerous gashes on their bodies but that did not deter them. They stood back from one another, snarling defiance and both panting heavily, but neither one willing to submit. Kirk wiped at his eyes, tried to focus enough to recognise which was Spock, and saw one of the beasts launch itself at the other. It clung to the underside of its opponent and sank sharp sabre-teeth into the exposed neck. Blood gushed out of the animal and Kirk knew that the fierce battle was almost over. The victor would tear the loser's throat out. Earth's ancient sabre-tooth tigers were believed to have killed their prey in exactly this manner.
Earth's sabre-tooth tigers!
Did this mean Spock had won the fight? Had his friend, with that encyclopedic knowledge of his, recalled the theory about the killing methods of the most ferocious carnivore ever to have walked the Earth? Or was it only a universal technique used by all similar creatures?
He waited, hardly daring to breathe, until the winner loosened the dead animal then raised its head and roared into the night. The remainder of the pack submissively trotted forward and, after further cries from the victorious beast, dragged the carcass away. Within minutes, they had all melted away into the forest.
Kirk swallowed. "Spock," he whispered as the creature staggered towards him. Its eyes were filled with pain but there was rationality in them.
The face was cut and gouged. The normally gleaming, white teeth were covered with blood. His fur was matted and there were bare patches where it had been completely torn out. The animal wavered then collapsed and, without hesitation, Kirk ran to its side, slid to the ground and drew the wounded head down to rest on his lap.
Spock, he pleaded. Spock.
Jim, Spock replied, his mind-voice shaky. They will not return. You are safe.
Dammit, Spock, let me help you. Tell me how badly you've been hurt.
I do not know. I dare not enter healing trance. The beast-influence has retreated now but it may not be possible to keep it under restraint.
The distress emanating from the Vulcan was almost more than Kirk could bear. Spock, usually so calm and able to tackle anything, was trembling deep inside, his control in shreds. Kirk called upon all of his training and strength of will. His own shock could be dealt with later.
All right. I'm going to bathe your wounds. I need to try and prevent any infection. Can you control the pain?
I will attempt it, Spock replied, but Kirk could sense his difficulty in what was usually a simple Vulcan technique.
Kirk carefully lifted the wolfish head from his lap then gathered all he would need. He bathed the wounds before covering them with the tree sap which had been so effective in easing his sun-burn. Hopefully it would be as efficacious in sterilising the jagged cuts. If not, it would have to do until they found something else.
What a mess to get into after I groomed you, he chided in a gentle tone, as he again cradled the heavy head on his lap.
I apologise, Captain, Spock's weary voice filtered into his mind.
Needing reassurance of his friend's welfare, Kirk caressed the velvet fur. Spock, at this most vulnerable of times, also required the tactile knowledge that they were together. He needed the supportive hold of his t'hy'la. Rest now, try to attain healing trance. I'll stay with you.
As I have explained, Captain.
Try, Spock, Kirk ordered.
****
Succumbing to his captain's wishes, and soothed by the steady stroking, Spock serenely drifted into the relaxation level required for the discipline. He floated in the warm familiarity of Vulcan self-healing, grateful for his t'hy'la's encouragement and strength.
As he sank further into trance, he found a primitive and fearful presence cowering deep in his mind. Peace, he whispered. Do not be afraid.
A myriad of images flooded Spock's senses.
A family. Cubs. A mate.
Feeding on roots but sometimes on flesh.
Fights for survival and dominance.
The flapping of wings.
Terror. Sharp objects probing its body. Shocks to its mind.
Nothingness. A body again. A stranger in control.
Fear. A new food-creature. Kill. Tear its flesh. Eat.
No, Spock said. A friend. A brother.
Understanding. Cub-brother. Companionship.
Threat. Enemy pack. Kill. Hurt. Pain.
Spock's sympathy for the creature who had been so callously experimented on was profound. Peace. We will share. I will try to return you. We will help one another. The body heals. Pain will go away. Believe me.
Hunt. Protect cub-brother.
Find enemy. Kill. Savage. Tear. Flesh.
Revenge. Winged ones. Kill.
No. Only if necessary. Peace. Rest. Sleep.
Silence.
Spock learned a great deal as the healing power filtered through him. The lacerations began to close and, satisfied that the more dangerous injuries were taken care of, his mind travelled outwards to the shallow level necessary for contact with Jim.
Strike me, Jim, he called, his body twisting and turning in the effort to waken. Strike me.
Cold water drenched his face, shocking him to awareness. He opened his eyes to see Jim standing over him, a 'coconut' water container turned upside down in the human's hand. He growled and shook himself as Jim crouched beside him, stroking back damp fur.
"Couldn't slap your face," Kirk commented with a mischievous smile. "This was the only way I could think of to wake you up."
A logical alternative, Captain, he replied.
Jim's expression became serious. I thought our luck had finally run out. That animal nearly killed you. He slumped against Spock's furry neck and despair flooded the link between them.
A warm feeling suffused Spock's mind and body. Jim always thought of others, never himself. The human's concern and affection were like a balm to his troubled soul. The horror of the battle faded as he absorbed Kirk's emotions and they floated for a time in a sharing of thoughts which soothed both their minds.
It was almost morning before they roused themselves. Spock explained what he had discovered hiding in his mind.
Kirk was, at first, angry then thoughtful. "Poor creature. I wonder what's become of its real body? It's not all the animal's mind, you think?"
I believe it to be engrams, perhaps, transplanted into my mind. It still thinks and feels in its primitive way. It has now agreed to be directed by me and is at peace, for the moment. However, its instincts when added to my own were instrumental in winning the fight.
"If not I would have been very dead, Spock. Thank you."
Spock growled as he replied, Indeed. It was imperative to win. If I had lost, Captain, you would have become cat food.
As he had intended, his attempt at humour had the desired effect of lifting the human's spirits. A loud choking then a whoop of laughter followed as Kirk responded to his words and fell onto the ground, doubled up in a fit of giggles. Spock stared at him with amusement, pleased by his ability to deflect the remainder of the other's negative mood.
Really, Captain, such undignified behaviour, he complained, nudging the huddled figure with his nose.
In answer, Kirk pulled him down and they rolled about in a playful tussle until both ended up in the lake. Spock splashed through the shallow water enjoying his sense of well-being, while his captain sat covered to the waist watching him. For the first time since awakening on this world in the alien body, Spock felt comfortable in it. The healing had forced a necessary knowledge of its functions and that discovery had removed the persistent lack of co-ordination.
"Hey, you big mutt, you drenched me," Kirk exclaimed.
Spock ran over to him, the large paws causing him to splash his soaked friend. Kirk covered his face with his hands for a moment, then abruptly changing tactics scooped water back to the furry body. Spock yelped in protest, scrambled out of the lake and settled down on his haunches upon the dry ground. Jim followed, his laughter filled with contentment as he sat by Spock's side. In silent companionship they watched the magnificence of the sunrise.
****
Two days later, as they doubled-back to the lake after an expedition into deeper woodland, Spock caught the scent of cooking fires. As the trees began to thin out, the human and his first officer cautiously proceeded forward, sprinted across a clearing, and hid behind the largest tree at the edge of the wood.
A short distance ahead, a small group of primitive huts huddled together by the lakeshore. They were built of wooden poles tightly lashed together by the abundantly growing forest-vine. On closer inspection Kirk noted that only three sides were constructed in that way; the fourth was covered by a flap of animal hide.
As a precaution Kirk and Spock climbed up onto the branches of their tree, for the others which lined the clearing were delicate saplings which would not bear their weight. Kirk lay out flat; hidden from casual view by the foliage. Spock stretched out on an adjoining bough, his keen eyes studying the huts for any signs of life, but there was no movement until the worst heat of the afternoon had passed when voices could be heard; thin piping sounds almost childlike in tone.
Be careful, Spock, Kirk warned, reaching over to touch a dangling paw. If they see you, they might try to kill you for a door-covering.
A sensible suggestion, Captain, Spock replied and edged back out of sight.
Kirk smiled, then turned his attention to the now emerging inhabitants of the village. He caught his breath as he saw their dark blue skin and shaggy white hair, but there were no signs of the distinctive antennae of the Andorian people. He counted twenty adults. Outwardly humanoid in appearance, they were approximately a metre and a half tall with a delicate build, long limbs three-fingered hands and three-toed feet. They wore animal skins and their arms and necks were decorated with ornate, bone jewellery. The eight children splashed in the water whilst the adults watched over them and Kirk was reminded of human youngsters at play. Although they appeared a non-aggressive people, he decided that caution should prevail. He and Spock would keep the villagers under observation for a time until both of them decided it safe to introduce themselves.
After a while it became increasingly painful to lie on the hard wood and Kirk gingerly stretched out to ease aching muscles. It was of little help and he struggled into a sitting position, leaning against the trunk to support his aching spine. Spock crept backwards until he reached the end of his branch and with a small leap was at Kirk's side.
Kinda crowded here, Kirk commented as he hung an arm around the warm neck.
I will return to my perch, if you wish, Spock replied.
Kirk shook his head. Oh, no you don't. I'd rather lean against my big, bad wolf. At least you're soft and cuddly. He grinned, wondering how his so-proper friend would regard that description.
Big, bad wolf? Soft and cuddly! Spock exclaimed in outrage. I assure you that I am not a wolf, Captain. If comparison were made to any animal it would be to one of the feline variety.
Well pleased, Kirk continued, Have you never heard the tale of the three little pigs and the big, bad wolf, Mr. Spock?
No, sir.
Kirk stole a glance at the still occupied villagers then returned his attention to Spock. Then your education has been sadly lacking, he commented, enjoying his friend's indignation. He sighed as the living, furry body seemed to draw the pain right out of his muscles. Okay, let's see. Once upon a time there were three little pigs.
Once Kirk finished the tale he waited for comments but the Vulcan was silent.
Well, Spock. How did you like it? Kirk asked impatiently. His eyes were intent on the animal beside him.
It is an unnecessarily bloodthirsty story, Captain. To boil the wolf was excessive. He was merely following the natural proclivities of his species.
Spock, you missed the whole point of the tale, Kirk said. It was about the pigs and...
A high pitched scream from behind them stopped him short. He peered down at the ground, but the intervening foliage effectively blocked his view. Another terrified screech followed and only knowing someone was in danger, he scrambled down the tree trunk towards the source of the cry. Spock was ahead of him and already on the grass as Kirk descended the final few metres. Spock growled and in that moment Kirk saw why. In an open space between two trees, a small blue-skinned child lay wrapped in the grasp of a large snake. With a chill, Kirk noted how its mottled, gold skin was highlighted by the sunlight pouring into the clearing. One of these creatures had provided the material for the garment he now wore.
He drew his knife, touched Spock's head and they quickly formed a rough plan. Neither was aware of the group of terrified villagers who now stood at the forest's edge watching them. Spock growled and drew the serpent's attention away while Kirk moved closer, carefully studying the creature's powerful tail. One lash would cripple, perhaps kill.
On seeing Spock, the snake reared up. Spock bared his teeth in challenge while Kirk reached the whimpering child and tried to free her from the tight coils that imprisoned her. Large, grey eyes, almost human in appearance, stared up at him with barely restrained hope and he smiled, stroking the shock of white hair gently for a moment to reassure her.
It was hopeless. The snake's grip was too tight and Kirk feared that if he attempted to stab the coils, it would increase the pressure on the girl's frail body and crush her. He patted her shoulder then moved behind the snake, glanced around and saw vines hanging from a nearby tree. It was as strong as rope but would it do for what he had in mind?
There was only one way to find out. He hacked a piece off, twisted the ends around his hands and walked forward until he was directly behind the head of the rearing killer. His eyes met Spock's and for an eternal moment their gazes locked and their minds entwined. Strength flowed between them and in unison they attacked.
Kirk threw himself on the snake, twisted the vine around its open jaws and clamped them shut. He hung on as the serpent's fierce struggles wrenched him from side to side with bone-jarring strength. Spock sprang forward and sunk his sabre teeth into the narrow throat. The snake's long body recoiled under the double assault.
Afraid for the girl, Kirk urged her to move, forgetting in the heat of the battle that she would not be able to understand him. Under his hands the serpent twisted and turned, causing intolerable pressure on Kirk's wrists, but he gritted his teeth and maintained his hold. He was aware that Spock did likewise, blood staining the sabre teeth a sickly shade of yellow.
Perspiration poured into Kirk's eyes as the reptile continued its fight for survival. "Die, damn you," he muttered as time seemed to pass with interminable slowness.
He threw his head back and tried to dislodge the sweaty locks sticking to his forehead. As he gasped in fresh air with loud gulps, a flicker of movement caught his attention and he saw the natives watching them. "Help us," he called. "Free the child."
The aliens hesitantly glanced at one another but as Kirk continued to urge them, a few appeared to understand his meaning and overcame their terror to run to the girl. The snake's tail lashed the ground. The natives jumped back in alarm but more came to assist and they all threw themselves on top of the thrashing coils. The predator's death throes grew weaker, but the Terran, aliens and sabre-toothed animal hung on until the reptile grew still. Spock withdrew his fangs from the lifeless creature, sliding exhausted to the ground. Kirk dropped the snake's mottled head and stumbled towards his friend. He grabbed onto the damp fur and urged Spock to his feet, fear that the snake's blood could be poisonous uppermost in his thoughts. It had to be thoroughly washed away. All his own tiredness was disregarded as he practically lifted the heavy feline body up and, after a cursory glance to see if the child was being looked after, he ran with Spock to the lake and plunged in with him.
He repeatedly rubbed the sharp teeth with his fingers, determined to remove all traces of the yellow blood. He cupped water in his hands and poured it into the open mouth, repeating the action many times as he watched the liquid trickle down the sides of Spock's jaw.
Jim. Jim, Spock called. I believe I am sufficiently purified.
Kirk began to relax as his burning concern over Spock's safety subsided. He sighed then turned his attention to the wolfish face and washed it thoroughly. I just want to make sure there's none of that blood left on you, Spock. It's likely to be highly toxic.
Very well, Jim, Spock replied resignedly. However, I am able to cleanse myself now.
All right, Kirk conceded.
Suddenly aware of a presence nearby, Kirk turned to see a native woman holding out a woven reed bowl to him. He smiled and accepted it from her outstretched hands. "Thank you," he said.
The alien bowed low and spoke, but Kirk could not identify any familiar words. He studied the contents of the bowl. Are these herbs? he wondered. What are they for?
His puzzlement must have been obvious for the native timidly stepped forward, lifted one of the blue plants out and broke it. A white sap emerged and taking a drop on her finger she dipped it in the water and rubbed with her other hand. A thick, creamy lather soon built up.
Laughter bubbled up in Kirk. It was some kind of soap-root; exactly what he needed to clean his sweaty body. He bowed his head in acknowledgement to the small female and soon had soaped himself all over, giving his tanned skin the best wash for many weeks. Aware of the spectators, however, he modestly concealed his body from the waist down in the cool waters of the lake.
Clean and refreshed and covered by his loincloth again, he summoned his friend saying, It's time you smelled better too. Spock's reluctance was obvious, but Kirk only laughed and added, That's an order, Mr Spock.
Spock submitted to being washed once more but he protested as he was engulfed in a sweet-scented lather. Jim, one can become weary of immersion in water.
I never get tired of the water, Spock. It is one of life's pleasures that you should learn to enjoy.
Vulcan's know nothing of pleasure, Captain, Spock replied.
Kirk made a face and continued with his task.
The Priestess
The People of the Lake watched mesmerised as the tall, golden god washed his tame gral. The Priestess Leryn held her daughter's hand and silently gave thanks to the Mother for sending Her son to save the child from the Evil Beast. Even in their legends, the People had never imagined such a god. In their ignorance, they had assumed that the Mother and Her Family would look just like the People, Her worshippers. For as the Goddess in the sky was bright and golden so was Her godling son and Leryn realised that the appearance of her daughter's saviour was proof of his lineage as a child of the Sun. With this new concept of the Sun-Goddess's appearance, Leryn's eyes grew wide with awe as she studied Her son's soft, fair hair, smooth golden skin and large, green flecked eyes. She drew in her breath at the sight of his remarkable beauty, the intelligence and compassion shining from those compelling eyes, and the glowing radiance of his dazzling smile.
The Priestess waited as the young god finished the cleansing then emerged from the lake, accompanied by the gral. Further verification of his heritage lay with the garment of lygar skin he wore and his command of the gral, his animal companion. Legend told of a god of Light, ruler of the wild beasts of the forest.
Reverently she knelt on the ground, and her people followed her example, but warm hands touched her shoulders and a strong grip lifted her to her feet. The god's voice was soft as he spoke in a strange, melodious language which she did not understand, yet she did sense the intent behind his words and actions. He wished no ceremony and willingly she complied with his commands.
She noticed that his fingers rarely strayed from the gral's fur and that intrigued her. He greeted the tribe, accepting their homage with a slight bow of the head and a smile. The child he had saved was given a special benediction and the heart of the Priestess swelled with pride as the godling touched the girl's hair and pressed his lips against her forehead.
The villagers prepared a feast in his honour and he graciously sat among them and partook of their food, feeding the gral and stroking it affectionately. The children sat at his feet and he allowed them to touch his companion. At first Leryn was alarmed by this, for despite its outward behaviour the gral was still a wild beast. But she soon realised that the animal was gentle and she recalled an ancient tale which said that the gods could change their shape at will.
This gral had assisted the young god to kill the lygar yet it had shown no violent tendencies, acting more like a person than a beast. Certainly the godling treated it as a friend. It studied all around it with a curiosity and intelligence which surely indicated that its form was merely a guise.
The Priestess thanked the Mother for allowing Her People the privilege of meeting Her sons, for she was sure now that no ordinary gral sat with the tribe. He and his companion were surely godlings. They were truly Children of the Sun.