Star Trek: The Original Series: Seasons of Light and Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page B

uncle.”

Four
    Alpha Aurigae’s two primary yellow stars ambled incandescently into the midafternoon hours. Naheer led McCoy, Wieland, and Aylesworth past a flat, empty drill ground upon which several huge warriors were hard at work training. Each man was dressed in a brightly colored tunic with a cowl-like head covering crowned by either flowing braids or a horsetail-like topknot. The fighters were swinging long, flat sparring swords that looked heavy enough to herniate even the toughest log-throwers from Earth’s Highland Games.
    Beyond lay a dense thicket of tall tents, whose area footprints varied wildly. Despite their obvious impermanence, these ranks of temporary canvas structures had taken on the settled, stable appearance of a village or a small town, thanks to the constant activity of the camp’s many smiths, weavers, food preparers, and various other craftspeople. Most of these folks—men and women alike—were in the same size class as the swordsmen McCoy had already seen, and none took any particular notice of their visitors.
    As Naheer led the way through the campsite, McCoy noticed that both Wieland and Aylesworth appeared to be ready to catch him should he stumble.
    â€œRelax, Commander,” he said. “I’m fine.”
    â€œYou don’t look fine, Doc,” Aylesworth said.
    â€œNonsense. Haven’t you heard? I just proved my worthiness.”
    Naheer came to an unexpected halt, and the Starfleet officers barely avoided a collision with the lad’s broad back. It was still hard to think of such a large humanoid as a child. He stood at the front of a voluminous but otherwise unremarkable-looking tent.
    â€œIs this your leader’s tent?” McCoy asked, nodding toward the entrance flap.
    Naheer turned to face McCoy and looked down at him with an expression of profound sadness. “No, Mak-Koy. Subteer Usaak does not dwell here.”
    â€œWho does?”
    â€œNo one lingers here for very long. This is the Tent of Dying.”
    McCoy made a face. “What?”
    â€œThis tent is reserved for those who have yet to prove their worthiness, as you have done. I wish to stop here for a moment—to see if Skyfather Gaar has made his decision.”
    â€œWhat decision?”
    â€œThe one that will determine whether my uncle Efeer lives or dies,” Naheer said. “My mother went to dwell with the gods while giving birth to me. And since my father died during last season’s hunt, his brother is all that I have left.”
    McCoy didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œI will stand vigil over my uncle,” Naheer said. “It is not my place to accompany you all the way to Subteer Usaak’s tent.”
    â€œI know the way,” Wieland said.
    Aylesworth nodded. “I’ll assemble the rest of the landing party and meet you there.”
    Wieland and Aylesworth turned away from the tent, but McCoy remained where he was. “Sir,” he said, “there’s an injured man in this tent who needs medical attention.”
    Naheer shook his head. “Only family may enter the Tent of Dying.”
    â€œNot even with the permission of a family member?” McCoy said.
    Naheer said nothing, but his stoic features took on a vaguely melancholic cast. Without saying another word, he opened the tent flap and disappeared into the semidarkness inside.
    McCoy felt a hand light gently on his shoulder. He turned to see Doctor Wieland regarding him sympathetically. “Only Subteer Usaak has the authority to let us into that tent.”
    A sudden surge of hope galvanized McCoy. “Well, we’re on our way to see him. Let’s get his permission.”
    â€œI’ve already tried,” Wieland said, shaking his head. “The word so far is ‘no.’ ”
    McCoy frowned. “I hope I haven’t just heard you admit defeat, Doctor.”
    The older man appeared nettled for a moment.