The Desert Test

Summary: T’Pol passed her kahs'wan when she was ten years old, and her children must pass it too before they can claim their rights as Vulcan citizens. This is the story of what happened when her first son, Chip, faced the test.

Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and its characters are copyright CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the author of this story, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit.

"You may remove the blindfold now," said the voice behind him.

Chip reached up and pulled the coarse fabric strip away from his face. Shielding his eyes against the sudden glare, he spun slowly on his heel to see where he was.

He was utterly alone in the desert, with nothing but rocks and stone visible in any direction. The air about him shimmered in the baking heat. His hand went to his belt. His knife was still there, thank God. It was the only weapon he had been allowed to bring – anything else he needed, he would have to make. He had chosen his father’s Bowie knife over the many Vulcan knives available to him. He was familiar with it, and it was a good sturdy blade. It was unfortunate that his mother had revealed the survival kit in the hollow haft of the knife: a compass, a magnifying glass which could focus heat to start a fire, a length of very strong but supple wire which could be used as a snare to catch small animals, fish hooks which could be used with the wire to make a snare trap by holding down the wire firmly with the hooks. That was all gone. In its place was a solid metal haft.

"You are being tested for your ability to cope, adapt, survive, and find your way to safety. You must use what you have in your mind," Ko-mekh had told him as they parted.

Dad had just hugged him and said, "Remember what I taught you this last year. We will be waiting for you at the finish."

Chip took stock. He had his knife, desert clothing and boots. He had a hat, thankfully, and goggles to protect his eyes from the relentless glare of Alam’ak. A standard emergency backpack with a foil sleeping bag, some basic ration packs and a large canteen of water completed his equipment. It had looked like a lot when it was piled up on his desk at home, but now he was actually here it seemed pitifully inadequate. There was nothing to do but set out.

Chip checked the shadows. There were three suns around Vulcan. He would need to remember their positions and coordinate them to approximate the time and his position. Right now, though, he had some hunting to do.

He knew there was very little actual wood on Vulcan but Ko-mekh had taught him about sher’khah, a plant with a tough stem which was as strong as wood. He could cut the stalk down, split it on one end, and make a spear using the knife. If he had that wire it would have been easy. Without it, he would have to improvise. He would need some animal skin. Cut into thin strips, it would be ideal for lashings because it would tighten as it dried. Which brought him to his next problem.

"Wonder where I can find the right kind of animal?" thought Chip aloud.

#####

"How is he doing?" demanded Trip.

"He has just started," replied T'Pol. "Please be patient, T’hai’la. It is a very demanding test and we have many days to go."

"Yeah, especially demanding for a ten year old," snapped Trip. "Are you really sure he’s ready for this?"

"I took this test when I was ten," T'Pol reassured him. They had had this discussion many times, but all of Trip’s concerns came flooding back now that it was actually under way.

"Sure, but you were used to conditions on Vulcan. Which animals to avoid, which ones were very dangerous. Chip has only been on Vulcan a short while and he has had to learn so much. He hasn't had the time to go out in the desert with a guide to familiarize himself. I bet the Vulcan kids spend a few years learning all about the desert," said Trip, looking at her anxiously.

"It is true that Vulcan children do go out with guides often before the test," admitted T'Pol.

"So, Chip is already at a disadvantage," Trip objected.

"He is very intelligent, and innovative like his father. I have faith in him," said T'Pol.

"He’s got his mother’s brains, that’s for sure. But what happens when he runs into some wild sehlats? He has no experience with that sort of thing. Vulcan children grow up with those monsters. Chip could be killed," said Trip, getting more agitated by the minute.

"He will be carefully watched. If he seems to be in danger he will be taken out of the test. He will qualify again next year then," T'Pol reassured him.

"Sure, he will fall behind a year because he hasn't had the training, knowledge or guidance the Vulcan children have. He is just a novice out there," replied Trip.

T’Pol watched him for a moment and then put her hand on his cheek. "I have faith in our son," she said.

Trip leaned into her hand and gave her an apologetic smile. Then he sighed. "Still, it would have helped if you hadn’t blabbed about that survival kit," he said.

"It would have been dishonorable to allow him that survival kit," T'Pol admonished him, withdrawing her hand. "I will not have our child dishonored."

"I wonder how many other Vulcan kids took along some dishonorable things," said Trip.

"As I said, it would be dishonorable," maintained T'Pol.

"I know, I didn’t ask you that. How many were caught? I will bet that their daddy was probably a minister or assistant minister who could smooth things over for the kid," replied Trip.

T'Pol flushed and wouldn’t meet Trip's eyes.

"It has happened in the past," she admitted. "The youngster was allowed to retake the test the following year. He was searched carefully and watched all the while he was in the desert. It was a great disgrace to the clan."

"What would prevent someone from going into the desert and hiding a few things the kid could use?" demanded Trip.

"We are an honorable people. I admit there have been examples of what humans would call cheating, but they are very few," said T'Pol.

"Once is enough," replied Trip. "It should be closely monitored to make it fair for all the young people who take this test."

"Can we discuss this later, T'hai’la?" asked T'Pol.

"Sure, sorry Darlin’. I’m just worried about Chip. If only he had lived on Vulcan for a few more years and spent some time in the desert studying the animal life here …"

T’Pol pulled Trip towards her and settled her head on his shoulder as his arms tightened around her.

"I am certain he will finish the test with honor," she said.

#####

Chip knew he was going to need a fire. The desert would lose heat fast at night and he would freeze later on. Chip thought of that magnifying glass in the kit.

"Can't be helped, it’s gone," he said to himself.

Chip examined his clothing. The blindfold had been hemmed, with typical vulcan efficiency, to prevent the edge from fraying. He picked at the end of the hem with the point of his knife and soon had a loose end. He had a far better use in mind for that thread. It was good stout thread and ideal for his purpose.

He got up and started to search the area. After about an hour he came across a small clump of the plants he was looking for. He selected the longest stalk he could find and cut it down.

Chip cut into the stump of the stalk. He cut a length off it. It was supple. He shaved the length to the right thickness. He notched each end and tied the thread into each notch, bending it into a bow.

Then he split a short section lengthways and used the tip of his knife to make a deep notch in one side. These would be his handle and fire board. Finally he looped the thread round a short piece of stalk that would act as his spindle. It took a few minutes to figure out how to work this contraption without the pieces flying in all direction, but he eventually got the hang of it. With everything ready, he piled some dry moss around the base of the spindle and began working the bow vigorously. The friction soon started the moss smoking and suddenly a tiny flame appeared. Chip grinned triumphantly. He’d seen this done, but this was the first time he’d tried to do it on his own. He blew gently on the flame and fed it more small pieces of moss. Eventually the flame was big enough to light small chips of stalk, and before long he had a good fire going.

Now, Chip took his canteen and removed the small cup from the lid. The cup only held a sip or two. Chip took a large ember from the fire and put it in the cup. It should smolder for hours, with any luck. Later when he needed a fire the ember would start one for him. Chip hooked the cup on to his belt and put the canteen back in its holder.

That was one problem taken care of. Now he had to find a small animal with the proper skin. With his limited experience in tracking, he would be lucky to find the animal much less catch and kill it.

He thought back to those weekends with his Dad. What kind of trap would work best? A deadfall? That would mean he would have to wait and watch holding the thread which would be attached to a piece of stump holding up a rock or a large piece of stump. A rock would be better as it would kill the animal. The piece of stump might not.

He could rig a snare. If the thread was strong enough, Chip could drive a small animal into it. The snare would strangle the animal, killing it and leaving the skin intact.

Chip sat and thought. The snare would be better. If he found a good spot for it an animal might wander into it accidentally, saving him driving it.

"I need to find some tracks," Chip said out loud. He had taken to talking to himself from time to time, to drive away the whispering silence of the desert.

"And soon. It will be dark in a few hours. No, wait. This isn’t Earth," he corrected himself.

He squinted up at the searing brightness of the suns overhead. Behr'ak was still rising; he had another six hours before dusk, and T’Khut would provide enough light for him to hunt for at least two hours after that. More than enough time for what he needed.

#####

"Is Chip making any progress?" asked Trip.

"Yes, he has succeeded in starting a fire and securing an ember to use later for another fire. The desert can get cold at night when the suns are down," said T'Pol.

"How is he going to carry the ember?" asked Trip.

"In his canteen cup," T'Pol explained.

"I’m glad he found a use for that. It’s worthless to dig with, far too small, and you can't get a decent drink of water in it," said Trip.

"It is not meant for digging and, being small, it will ration Chip’s water for him if he remembers to limit himself to one cup twice a day," replied T'Pol.

"What is he is up to now?" said Trip.

"I do not know. He seems to be looking for something but I am not sure what it is," said T'Pol.

Trip remembered then what he had taught Chip. Make a sling and you will have a very good weapon. Chip had practiced with the sling until he was deadly with it. The problem now was making one. ‘Animal skin!’ thought Trip. ‘Good boy. Take your time, find a good small animal, if one exists on Vulcan and make sure you don't run in to one of those damned poisonous things.’

"T'Pol, you gave him his desert training," said Trip. "Just what is he up against?"

"Wild sehlats will be the main danger, of course. He may encounter a le’matya, although they are unlikely to roam this far into the desert. There are k’karee - deadly snake-like animals that can fly at night," said T'Pol. "They prefer the coolest part of the night so a fire will keep them away. Sehlats cannot climb. If Chip can find a small cave above ground level where he can have a fire at the entrance, he can keep the snakes away and the sehlats can't reach him."

"Are there any small harmless animals Chip could kill and eat?" asked Trip.

"Yes, he may find k’nurt in the area. They are small mammals similar to rodents on your world. They are timid animals, wary and hard to find. But they are edible if he does find one," replied T'Pol.

"What would be the best way to get one?" asked Trip.

"If he can locate a burrow there should be a faint trail to it. If he can surprise one he may be able to stab it, but it will not be easy – they are agile and very fast," said T'Pol.

"That is out, Chip is half human and slower than a vulcan. Would a deadfall or a snare work?" asked Trip. "I taught him how to make those."

"Perhaps," said T’Pol. "Hunters would traditionally use a spear or a lurpa, or a throwing knife if a spear is not available. On the kahs'wan, of course, a knife is all that is available," replied T'Pol. "Perhaps a snare would be effective if it was well placed."

"This gets better and better. Chip is already handicapped because he is half human, he isn't as strong or as fast as the vulcans, hasn’t had enough training and hasn’t got the weapons he needs to hunt. He could probably make a sling if he caught one of those rabbits, but he’ll never do that without a weapon," said Trip.

"Our son will find a way," replied T'Pol calmly.

"I have faith in him too, but I still wish he had that survival kit," grumbled Trip.

#####

Chip took the length of stalk he had used for the bow and stuck it in the ground. Alam’ak was already low in the sky and cast a long shadow. It was getting late. Chip paused, remembering his training. His mother had warned him about the flying snakes and sehlats that would hunt him at night. He needed to find a cave up on a cliff face.

He would have to take some dry moss and find another stalk to burn at night so the snakes would stay away. He didn't have all that much time. He started to walk. He came across another stalk, cut it down and carried it over his shoulder. He found several more patches of dry moss and soon had a collection stuffed into his jacket front. Unfortunately, the sun was still too hot so he couldn’t take off his hat and use it as a pouch. He walked along the bottom of the shallow valley, looking up on both sides as he went. There! It looked like just what he needed.

He put down the stalk and started to climb. Half way up the cliff face he came to a notch in the wall. It barely qualified as a cave but it was a recess surrounded on three sides by rock and that was what he needed. Chip took out a handful of moss, set it burning with the ember and crawled warily into the opening. The moss gave off just enough light to see into the furthest corners. There was some debris but mostly the cave was clean, with no signs of snakes or other critters. Chip examined the debris for anything that he could burn at night. There was dry moss but that was all. Chip took off his small pack of rations and other essentials, his canteen and cup, and emptied the moss from his jacket front. He climbed back down, gathered some more moss and took his stalk up. After several more trips to bring up fuel for his fire, Chip settled in for the night.

He sipped two gulps of water and opened a food pack. He was limited to one a day and they were not generous. He would have to supplement them before he reached safety. He sat in the entrance as evening fell. He built the fire up carefully so that it would burn steadily through the night. The stalks were cut to a convenient size and stacked beside the fire. He noted that the stalk burned slowly. Good, he would be able to sleep without worry, he hoped.

As Chip settled into his sleeping bag he wished he could sleep like his Dad could. Dad slept like a cat, coming awake in an instant. He seemed to have an instinct for waking up when anything was wrong.

Chip slept fitfully while the fire burned. He woke a few times that night to replenish the fire and went back to sleep.

In the morning Chip again stuck a piece of stalk in to the ground to estimate the time and direction. He longed for the simplicity of a single sun and a single moon, where he knew the time instinctively. Those instincts would lead him astray here, though, and he carefully followed Ko-mekh’s instructions. Behr’ak and Czar’ak were still low in the sky, and T’Khut hadn’t risen yet, which meant it was early morning, probably around 04:00, so north would be over … there. He laid a couple of stones to mark the bearing. He needed to head due north, but staying on course would be difficult without a compass. Once again he lamented the loss of his survival kit. He searched the horizon for something he could use as a reference. There was a pillar of rock in roughly the right direction which would have to do. Between it and the sun’s movement he hoped he could estimate how far he had gone and stay on course. He picked up all his tools and spare firewood, slung the long stalk he intended to use for his spear over his shoulder, and set out into the scorching heat.

Near noon he saw what looked like a faint line along the base of a large rock. He bent to examine it. Was it an animal trail? The line ended at a small hole. Looking around he decided that the snare would be best right at the entrance of the burrow. He got out his thread, doubled it and made a snare. Hopefully the animal wasn’t too large and the snare would dispatch it quickly without the animal suffering.

After setting up his snare Chip hid as best he could. Waiting in the sun was very difficult but he needed this animal’s skin before he could go any further.

Chip dozed during the heat of the day, crawling from shadow to shadow as the sun chased him. As the sun finally dipped in the sky he crawled nearer to his snare. Empty. The animals must come out at night. There was nothing to do but wait it out. He needed a fire or he would have to bury himself in the sand to avoid the snakes and sehlats. He decided to walk back to the cave. It would take a few hours but it was safer. He set out before sunset and was back in the cave before the fading light of T’Khut disappeared completely. He quickly started a fire in the cave mouth, took four swallows of water and opened a food pack. He was very tired. He built up the fire so it covered the cave mouth and then slept. He woke once to stir up the fire and feed it.

In the morning he returned to the burrow. There was a small rabbit-like animal in the snare. It had strangled itself trying to escape.

Chip took the animal out and examined it. There was no fur and only a light covering of hair to protect the skin. The desert sun would have burned the pale skin in minutes; it was a night animal for sure. Chip estimated the size of the skin once he had taken it off the animal. He needed enough to lash the knife into the stalk, and then some to make a slingshot. He set about skinning the animal, laying the skin out to dry in the sun. He started a fire with some moss, cut up the animal and cooked it. Not very tasty, but it was food and the ration packs wouldn’t be enough on their own.

That afternoon he opened the split in the end of the stalk a little more, shoved in the haft of the knife and tied it in to the stalk firmly. He wound a long strip of skin tightly around the handle of the knife and tied if off. He laid the stalk out so the skin dried and shrank, making the strip tighter. He tested it and it held, didn't move or let the blade slip. It held fast if he stabbed with it or threw it. He had his spear. Now, for the sling.

First he cut strips as long as he could, made a pouch to hold the rock and then cut into the skin so he had a opening he could slip the strips in, tied knots at the end of them in front and behind the cut. The strips were supple. He picked up a rock, fitted it into the pouch, whirled the sling around his head a few times and let fly. The rock smacked heavily into the target Chip had picked out. He was satisfied with his sling. Now, with the rest of the skin he made a larger pouch he could carry rocks in. He made loops in the skin that he put his belt through to hold the pouch next to his body. He was armed now. A spear and a sling. He felt better. He put the stalk in the ground, noted the position of the sun and the rock formation he was using as a marker. He headed north at a pace that was not tiring but still ate up the miles. He needed to find shelter tonight and another stalk if possible. He had survived another day, and was ready to cover some serious ground tomorrow. But he had a long way to go, and had already used up two days. Would he get there in time? He set his jaw determinedly. He wouldn’t let Dad and Ko-mekh down. He would make it. He had to.

#####

"How is Chip doing," asked Trip.

"You ask me that every time you see me. I will tell you if he is in trouble," said T'Pol.

"I know you will, but I want to know how my son is using his head out there," Trip replied in frustration.

"He is doing well. He has made a spear and what looks like a human weapon of some sort," said T'Pol.

'Human? What sort?" said Trip.

"It has a pouch connected to two strips. He seems to be able to throw rocks with considerable force."

"He’s made a slingshot!" Trip said with a delighted grin. "Those sehlats had better keep their distance now."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Her K’diwa’s mood had improved considerably now that their son had equipped himself with some weapons, but she couldn’t dispel an unpleasant tension at the thought of Chip out there alone. She knew all too well how dangerous the high desert could be for the unwary.

#####

Chip walked briskly, trying to find the quickest way through the maze of canyons he was in. It was getting late and he still hadn’t located a safe place to hole up for the night, so he kept a careful eye on the cliffs above him looking for any telltale shadows. Finally he saw what he had been looking for: a small cave high up the face of one wall. Chip climbed up to it, again lit some dry moss and warily entered the small cave. To his relief it was empty - no critters and no moss. It would do. Chip took off his equipment, climbed down and began collecting moss. When he had enough, he carried it up to his new home. Then he stood in the entrance and used the last of the fading light to look for any stalks he could use as firewood. Luck was with him again, and he spotted one a short distance away. Making a careful note of the position he climbed back down and set off towards it. His knife made short work of cutting it down and he carried his prize back up to the cave. Now he was set for the night. Just as well, because he could already hear stones clicking in the darkness as nocturnal predators started moving about.

He cut the stalk into short lengths and stacked it up ready and then decided he’d earned a break.

He carefully had two large swallows of water and decided to eat from his dwindling supply of ration packs. The rabbit had long since been digested. Chip wanted another sip of water but didn’t take one. He only had a limited supply, and he had no idea how long it would be before he found any more.

Chip started the fire as the last of the light disappeared. This time it would be high enough to discourage any flying snakes. He might sleep the night halfway through. Chip crawled into his sleeping bag and fell asleep right away. He woke once to feed the fire and slept again.

In the morning he searched the ground. He was looking for just the right sized rocks that had sharp points. He found a few, some more or less what he wanted. One had a very sharp edge as if it had been knocked off another rock. That one would be his best stone. He kept looking until his pouch was filled. Most had a point on them, some better than others, but all would have to do. The one with the edge he kept near the top of the pouch.

Ready to set out now, Chip set his stick in the ground and calculated what time it was and which way was north. He was relieved to see that he had been heading in the right direction. He set off for the north again. That was the only information he had been given: safety lay to the north; the end of the test was there.

Chip had only walked a short while when he noticed in the distance a large dark cloud. A breeze rose that was almost a wind. Dust started swirling around him and without warning a heavy bolt of lightening struck the ground a short distance away, leaving his ears ringing. Sandfire! Chip knew his only hope for safety was the cave he’d just left. He ran as fast as he could, carrying the spear over his shoulder and hanging onto everything else. His canteen and cup banged against his body as he ran. He knew he was near the cave now. Just around the corner and he could climb up to it.

Chip rounded the corner and practically ran into a sehlat lumbering in the opposite direction. It was hard to tell which of them was more surprised. He skidded to a halt just yards from it and scrambled to bring his spear up. The sehlat was standing between him and where he had to climb up to the cave. Chip pointed his spear at the sehlat and tried to go around it. The sehlat seemed to know what Chip wanted as it moved to block him. It was too close to use the sling. Chip gripped the spear in his hands. He couldn’t afford to look for another route, the sandfire would be on him at any moment.

The sehlat had to move. Chip jabbed the spear at the animal. It snarled and slapped at the spear head but continued to block Chip’s way. Then the sehlat advanced toward Chip. He again jabbed the spear at the beast, this time sticking the knife point into its shoulder. The sehlat growled and stopped.

Chip could see it was ready to charge. He had already been told that the only way to survive an encounter with a wild sehlat was to climb out of its reach. Trying to outrun it was suicide, and even with modern hand weapons they were considered dangerous. But he was out of options. There was only one thing Chip could do: meet the charge head on. He seated the spear against he shoulder and gripped the shaft as far up as he could. When the sehlat charged, he ran forward to meet it. The spear point drove in to the sehlat’s mouth and up into its brain.

Chip was swept off his feet by the impact. The wind was knocked out of him. He lay dazed for a moment and then staggered to his feet. He stood wavering, and wiped his sleeve across his eyes to clear them. He made himself steady his feet and stop the wavering.

The sehlat was slapping and clawing at the spear head lodged in its mouth, growling in pain. It was no longer interested in attacking him, but it was still flailing around dangerously and he didn’t dare go near it to retrieve his weapon.

At least he could get round it now.

He quickly climbed to the cave. The sandfire wasn’t getting any closer, but the cloud was so black that it was as if night had fallen. Chip decided he needed to start a fire. He had moss and a pile of stalks, but no shavings to get the fire going. The moss wouldn’t be enough, he had to get some shavings to burn and then he could lay some stalks on top of it for a real fire. Unfortunately, Chip had nothing to make shavings from the stalk. He needed his knife to do that. He stood and looked down at the injured sehlat, but no matter how long he stood there he couldn’t escape the inevitable. He had no choice - he had to climb down and get his knife.

He climbed down, moving slowly to where the sehlat lay. It didn't move. Chip pulled at the shaft of the spear. It came loose, leaving the knife firmly wedged in the sehlat’s mouth. Chip warily circled the sehlat, and prodded it with the remains of his spear. It still didn’t move. Finally, summoning up all his courage, he reached into the beast’s mouth and took a firm grip on the knife. He was mortally certain that the beast was about to come back to life and bite his arm off, but to his relief nothing happened and eventually he was able to work the knife loose. Wiping the worst of the blood off on the sehlat’s heavy pelt, Chip stuck the knife in his belt and made his way back to his cave. The climb up wasn’t helped by having to carry the shaft up with him. When he got to the top he quickly made some shavings from one of the pieces of stalk. He reached for his cup but it was gone – no ember. He had to make a bow again and start a fire that way. Chip wearily assembled the bow, got a bit of moss burning and fed in some shavings. He finally had a fire going. He let it burn down to a reasonable size and sat back, tired but safe. He could hear the wind howl outside the cave. He had to move to the very back of the cave but that was all right. The storm didn’t seem to be letting up and he resigned himself to another night in this cave so he settled down for a long wait.

As the day progressed the wind continued. Chip was certain that come night the snakes would all have gone to ground to avoid the wind. It would drive them in to the walls of the valley, killing them. He would be safe from that quarter. He didn't worry about the sehlats. That evening he sipped his water from the canteen, trying to measure a cup full. He opened his last ration pack and chewed it slowly. It would be a hungry day tomorrow. Then to bed after stirring up the blaze. He was so tired, he slept the night through. He woke in the morning at first light. The fire had burned down but was still hot enough to keep away any snakes that may have come out after the wind stopped. Chip got up, packed his gear and picked up his spear. He had another day ahead of him and he wasn't sure how close he was to the safety of the end of the test. He searched and found his cup in some dirt, partially hidden. He picked it up and hooked it on to his belt. The ember was still burning. Good. He might have to spend a few more nights in caves and the ember would make starting afire much easier.

Chip walked for two hours and then came to a long valley which was deep and steep on all sides. He knew he could never climb the rock faces. He had to go in. He just hoped he could get through it quickly without running into anything. His two choices: forward or back. Not ideal if he was being chased by something.

Chip had been in the valley for about an hour. He could see in the distance that it opened out to a broad expanse of land. Hopefully, in just another couple of hours he would be out of this valley.

The only warning was the slight sound of a stone being overturned behind him. He glanced back and saw two sehlats bounding silently towards him. He turned to run forward and saw another sehlat coming towards him from that direction. Chip could hear his father’s voice: stay calm, don't panic. Chip took out the rock with the sharp edge. He put it into the sling, whirled the sling around his head and threw it at the nearer of the two sehlats behind him. It hit it in the head, burying itself in the sehlat’s brain. The animal dropped and didn't move.

Chip selected another rock with a sharp point. The sehlat behind was getting closer. Chip took a hurried glance ahead of him. That one was still a little further away but approaching rapidly. In a few seconds he would be attacked from both sides. Again Chip turned to face the one behind him. He put his rock in to the sling, whirled it around his head and threw with all his strength. The rock hit the sehlat in the shoulder. The sehlat stumbled for a moment but then resumed its relentless charge. It would be on him in another few strides. He could hear his Dad’s voice again: there is always time, if you do it right. He dug in to the pouch, found a sharp pointed rock and put it in to the sling pouch. He whirled and threw the rock in a single motion. At point blank range he could hardly miss, and the rock slammed into the sehlat’s head. The sehlat staggered. Then it was moving towards him again. Chip had used the extra time to take out another rock and put it in to the sling. He whirled it to build up the force and threw. This time the sehlat collapsed in a tangle of legs and slid to a stop, almost at his feet by now. Chip had to assume it was dead. He had the one on the front to deal with.

Chip turned. The sehlat was too near, there wasn’t time to use his sling. The sehlat was gathering itself to leap. Chip set the butt of the spear in the ground. He put his foot on the butt, holding it down while he crouched to add his weight to his foot. He held the spear up and waited. The sehlat leaped and landed on the point of the spear as Chip moved the spear head to meet it. Chip was knocked on his back. He kept his hold on the spear and carried the sehlat over him. It hit the ground, tearing the spear out of Chip’s hands. He scrambled to his feet. The sehlat was biting at the spear in its abdomen, growling and clawing at it. Chip advanced, grabbed the free end of the spear and tried to pull it out of the sehlat. He had to move the spear head back and forth before it came lose. He pulled out the spear and rammed it into the animal’s throat. He heard a gurgling noise from the sehlat. Its legs thrashed wildly for a moment and then it stopped moving.

Chip carefully prodded each body with his spear to make sure they were really dead. At last, satisfied he was safe for the moment, he gave a sigh of relief. He wanted to rest but was afraid there might be more sehlats nearby that would smell the blood. He hefted his spear, reluctantly left the sharp rocks in the sehlats and walked on. Two hours later he was out of the valley. By the sun it was late. He needed to find shelter for the night. As he stood and looked around, a door opened in the rock face. "You have passed the test," said a voice. "Come in now."

Chip was dazed. It was over. He had passed. Then his parents were there, his Dad proudly hugging him and congratulating his son, T'Pol being Vulcan and saying that she was pleased he had passed his test.

"Aw Hell, T'Pol," said Trip, "hug his human half and kiss it."

T'Pol swiftly glanced around. She took Chip in her arms and hugged him. "You did very well, Chip. I am so proud of you."

"Ko-mekh, you’re going to squash me," said Chip, with his arms tight around her. "Don't stop hugging, just not so tight."

#####

Trip was sprawled across his favorite couch with his arm around T’Pol.

"Well, he did it!" he said proudly. "I never doubted him for a second."

"Indeed," said T’Pol, her eyes glowing with pride.

"Just think," said Trip, "two more years and it’ll be time for T'Mir to take the test."

T'Pol and Trip exchanged glances. T'Mir next and two years later Malcolm.

"They will all pass," said T'Pol.

"Yes, but will my nerves hold out?" asked Trip.

Finis