Chapter 11

"Spock!" McCoy whispered with emphasis.

It was an hour since they had spoken. McCoy had spent it at the Captain's bed, fretting about the state of his drug arsenal (out of sedatives and anti-inflammatories, low on painkiller) and about the state of Mrs. Kirgis, of all people, who became so distraught he had eventually sent her out of the room.

Spock had spent it in the blacksmith's workshop, conversing with a large group of Juras. Boy, was it crowded in there! And a little threatening too, a little too close. McCoy didn't want to go in. He waved and got Spock's attention.

Spock excused himself and made his way to the doorway. McCoy took his forearm and pulled him into the courtyard.

"Getting pretty heated in there, Spock."

"Indeed, Doctor. It is most alarming," said Spock.

"Well, the boy's returned. The healer is coming in right behind him."

"And the Captain?"

"He's still out, and stable enough, but the healer and her medicines couldn't come too soon-What the blazes is going on in there?"

A shout, almost a wail, had just come from within. It was disconcerting to hear, coming from a Jura. Spock was perturbed and looked it too.

"When I told them of our plan to leave the Captain here, their—nervousness was visibly heightened. They became most adamant that we should bring him to the shuttle,willing to amass an army and suffer great losses. Indeed it is clear to me now that the entire resistance, planetwide, is centered around Jim Kirk's escape. They are extraordinarily concerned about his well-being, but it has been difficult for me to understand their motivations."

"But you explained to them-"

"Yes, once I had impressed upon them that the Captain would not survive the trip, they became most helpful. However, this new nervousness of theirs is undermining their efficiency. Some of them panic, others break down with what I can only describe as grief. They are no longer the Juras of before the occupation."

"All because of Jim?"

"It seems that way-" Spock guessed, but stopped at that.

"Well," said McCoy, "I've seen some of that in the sick room. Grief is the word, Spock .Mrs. Kirgis almost can't control it. I have never seen such sympathy. It is like she is experiencing it for the first time and she is taken by surprise."

Spock nodded, thinking, but still he offered nothing.

"Well, how is the planning going?"

"We are mapping the Klingon movements. I must say that their communications are exceptional in this regard, and I have good hopes for breaking through to the shuttle."

"How long till you get back?"

"Our best option is a circuitous route through the mountains, which will take us tonight and half the day tomorrow, if no major obstacles present themselves. Then it will take another twenty-five hours to contact and rendez-vous with the Enterprise, which is the closest Federation contact. I will relay my report and recommendation for interference to Starfleet and return immediately, either with the Enterprise or the shuttle. Then it will depend on whether Themak has called in reinforcements and how much the Juras have shaken his defenses. And Starfleet's decision."

McCoy grunted at that.

The noise jumped a level inside.

"I must go back in and keep them on track."

"Wait! You can't grab the shuttle and come and get us now?"

Spock shook his head. "We would be detected immediately. Any subspace communications from the shuttle will also be picked up. But I know how to tap into their radio from the shuttle. We may still assume the radio is not being monitored."

"At least send someone back with the big medkit. Who knows how much these herbal medicines can do for Jim."

"I will do so, Doctor, but I really must go in now."

McCoy turned to find the Kirgis boy at his elbow. The kid was twelve or so, and quite eager to please.

"She is here, Doctor McCoy!" he said excitedly, rocking on his toes.

McCoy laid a hand on the boy's shoulder to calm him a bit and followed him to the room where Kirk lay under the shaky supervision of Mrs. Kirgis.

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McCoy was immediately on guard when he entered the room. A young woman in her thirties, dressed in a black robe, her hood slung back, and Mrs. Kirgis were engaged in a hushed but frantic conversation. When McCoy approached them they abruptly fell silent.

"You are the healer?"

The woman bowed her head, avoiding his eyes. McCoy could see fear in her face.

"What is wrong?"

The healer quickly brought her fist to her mouth to stifle a sob.

My God, they're all falling to pieces!

"She is-", Mrs Kirgis volunteered, fought for words, "not up to the task, Doctor."

"What task?"

"I cannot even touch him!" the young woman wailed, gesturing dramatically toward the unconscious Jim Kirk.

McCoy suddenly felt very protective of the patient. He hurried to the bed, putting himself in between Kirk and these two deranged women.

"You are a healer-" he began, but could see he would not get through to her, she was too panicked. "Never mind, I am his doctor. I take care of him."

"You don't understand," the young women whispered, but she broke off, her eyes large with fear.

"Listen. The boy said you brought herbs. Please bring them to me," McCoy said carefully.

The young woman nodded. Regaining her composure, she spread out a cloth on the floor in front of him, opened a large burlap bag and one by one brought out bundles of fresh and dried herbs, small jars with powders and little flasks of liquids, tremulously pronouncing their names as she offered them for inspection.

"Fresh Purple Saddie, to soothe pain. Darydee, powerful enemy of swelling and great healer. Bennyberry root powder, for cramps and spasms. Tincture of Slickroot, to drive away fever and thirst. Tincture of Stuckroot, to bring on fever. Shady bark, to soothe nerves and, if more is taken, to invite a deep sleep. Powder of the Skullcap mushroom, it stops bleeding and disinfects wounds. Salve of Caya Leaf, to draw out poisons through the skin."

She had many more. As she put each item on the cloth, McCoy scanned it with his tricorder, growing more amazed at the skill and generosity of this woman. She must have emptied her apothecary, and each and every salve and tincture was pure and potent.

"My dear," he said when her bag was emptied, "I don't know what you feel you must do for Jim Kirk, but believe me that with this you have saved his life. We don't know how to thank you!"

This now seemed to break through her shroud of fear and remorse, and she smiled timidly.

"What is you name?" McCoy asked.

"Alana," she said softly.

"Alana, I need you to prepare something for me, a poultice. Can you do that? You won't have to touch him."

The woman nodded.

McCoy decided that Alana would be the one to tell him what the hell was going on on this planet.