Ghost of a Chance (12 page)

“Agreed, but the Televek themselves haven’t even shown us their faces,” Neelix pointed out. “And they seem conveniently unable to give us anything more substantial than rhetoric and sensor data.”

“That is a fair observation,” Torres said.

“You could lighten up a little,” Paris told Torres, a concerned look on his face. “You know, the captain gave you her trust when you asked for it. And you, Neelix.”

“That was because at the time she didn’t know me very well,” Neelix answered.

“My point exactly,” Paris said.

Chakotay caught Kes using her hand to hide a grin.

“I think I’ll agree with Neelix,” B’Elanna said evenly.

“And I think we should get on with this,” the commander said, scowling at the others. Then he tried a more affable expression as he turned to the Drosary. “Anything we can do that might expedite rescue efforts should be considered.”

“Yes, please, that is the goal of this meeting,” Tassay said, assisting Chakotay in that small way. She was a fine choice for an advocate, he thought, as were Jonal and Mila. Indeed, that choice spoke well of the Televek, even if Neelix and B’Elanna didn’t.

“We are getting important data from the Televek, which I’ve been piecing together with our own,” B’Elanna said. “At present there exists no safe means of approach to Drenar Four. The defensive system makes use of comparatively small, highly concentrated individual energy fields, which it directs toward any perceived threat.”

“The cruiser the Televek lost reported multiple systems failures before contact was broken,” Mila said.

“Unfortunately these fields your engineer describes are immune to phaser, photon, and other conventional weapon fire,” Jonal said.

“The Televek have also tried scrambling their frequencies with dampening fields, but to no effect.”

“So the defensive fields work like an artificial immune system,” Paris offered.

“Well put,” Mila told him, to nods from Tassay and Jonal. Paris took the compliment well.

“He is just remarkable, isn’t he?” B’Elanna said in a mocking tone, smiling at Mila in the same manner.

“But what I hear everyone saying is that there’s nothing much we can do,” Neelix said.

“We’ve already detected some of those fields moving about down there,” Chakotay confirmed, trying to keep the discussion open.

“They seem to be confined to the surface, at least for now.”

“They are not always,” Mila warned.

Jonal said, “If current trends in reductions at the main power source continue, the system should soon grow weak enough to eliminate the problem entirely. After that, rescue and salvage operations can be easily carried out.”

“What do you mean by `soon’?” Chakotay asked.

“We estimate two weeks.”

“But the rate of the seismic activity down there is increasing so fast that we might not have that much time. This planet might be nothing but rubble by then.”

“The Televek estimate they have nearly twice that long,” Tassay assured him.

Chakotay took little comfort from this. No race, no technology he knew of, could predict the exact outcome of the kind of inexplicable violence that was occurring within Drenar Four. He was fairly certain that the aliens’ guess was no better than anyone else’s. Tomorrow the planet could decide to settle down and behave itself and stay quiet for a century—or it could turn itself into an asteroid field and take the captain and the others out with it. He shook his head.

“Paris, B’Elanna, this situation is unacceptable. I want some other options. See what else you can find out about those energy signatures.

Put anyone you can spare on it. Work with the Televek wherever possible. We need access to the surface, and we need it now.

Meanwhile, let’s take another look at our computer models. I understand that one major quake and several smaller ones have occurred in the last few hours. Maybe we’ve learned something from them.”

“An excellent suggestion, Commander,” Jonal said graciously.

Paris and Torres acknowledged Chakotay, then got to their feet and started out the door. Mila rose to go with Paris, but Chakotay decided he had to draw the line.

“You three will remain with us,” he told the advocates. “These officers have work to do, and there are certain security concerns, which I am sure you can understand.”

Each of the Drosary quickly acquiesced. Chakotay wondered if, in their place, several of his own crew would have done the same.

“Commander, are you all right?” Tassay asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Probably not, he thought. He could only guess what his expression must be like; he made yet another effort to soften it before attempting to answer.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m fine.”

The ceiling seemed low, the walls close, though there was not enough light in the room to allow further details to emerge. The smell of damp, smoke-permeated wood filled the air. Captain Janeway lay perfectly still, moving only her eyes, drawing slow, shallow breaths as consciousness grew more certain. She dared not try anything more; it hurt to blink, her head was throbbing so.

Now she began to notice noises coming from somewhere beyond the darkened walls. Voices passed once, then again, and in between, she heard other sounds, a changing pattern of clatter that made little sense to her. When she was reasonably sure she was alone, she gently attempted to move her arms and legs, and found them to be in working order, though her left knee was sore. Next she tried to lift her head, and the pain exploded from within.

She let out a moan and pressed one hand to the top of her head.

The welt was sizable and tender. She also felt dried blood but nothing fresh. It was coming back to her now—the shuttle, the Drenarians, the earthquake, and the fall. She checked her belt and found her tricorder and phaser still there.

Slowly she sat up and watched the world spin. She waited for it to stop, then got carefully to her feet. The ceiling was low; she had barely a foot of clearance. She reached toward the length of heavy cloth that covered a nearby window and pulled the curtain gently back, and light entered the room. She winced as her eyes reacted; she turned away from the window, looked about inside instead, and discovered she was in a log cabin much like those built hundreds of years ago on the American frontier. The furnishings—a table and a few chairs, a bed built along one wall, and a storage chest—were all simple and handmade, but neatly constructed. They featured hinges and braces of finely crafted metalwork. An oil lamp, unlit, rested on the table.

As she looked back toward the window, she noticed it had glass in it.

She hadn’t expected that. Outside she could see another cabin much like the one she was in. She folded the curtain flap under, which left a wedge of open window when she let go. Before she could do more, she heard voices outside, coming closer.

She steadied herself, one hand close to her phaser, as she heard the door latch move. She had no desire to demonstrate what the weapon could do—surely these people had been through enough already—but she was too weak to fight hand-to-hand, if it came to that.

When the door opened, the first one through it was Tuvok.

The Vulcan was followed closely by Kim. Then an older Drenarian male entered, neatly dressed in dark slacks and a long-sleeved tunic. The alien’s clothing was clean and in good condition, but it looked nearly as old as he was. His hair was dark with a sprinkling of gray, and his face, unlike those of the other Drenarian men she had seen, was clean-shaven.

Up close the heavy head and facial features Janeway had observed earlier seemed less harsh, and she noticed a subtle hint of orange coloration in the wrinkles of the man’s skin. Janeway felt the Drenarian’s deep, dark eyes upon her as they faced each other, and she instinctively looked away, not certain why those eyes bothered her.

“Captain, you are well?” Tuvok asked, leaning forward to assess the damage to her head.

“I’ve been better,” she said, waving him off.

“I would like you to meet a new friend of ours, Nan Loteth. Mr. Loteth, Captain Janeway.”

She put out her hand, but the Drenarian only stared at it as if it were an unknown animal. Janeway withdrew the offer.

“They are not familiar,” Tuvok explained.

“His people helped carry you back to their village after the earthquake,” Kim said, sounding quite cheerful. “What’s left of their village, that is. The quakes have knocked at least a third of it down, and a few sections have fallen straight into the ground. This section is relatively untouched, so far.”

“But it may not be for long,” Tuvok added.

Janeway looked up. “Explain.”

“Since the last quake, according to Loteth, volcanic activity to the south has actually decreased somewhat, but every aspect of this planet’s behavior seems to be in flux,” Tuvok reported. “At present the prevailing winds are from the northwest, which is why the rain of dust and ash in this area has ended locally, but if they should shift sufficiently it would be cause for concern.”

“We’ve been waiting for you to come around,” Kim said, something he apparently just had to get out. “Everyone has.”

“They seem a most amiable people, Captain,” Tuvok said, “and they have treated us with kindness. I have taken the liberty of explaining that we are here to help them.”

“I’ll bet they’re impressed so far,” Janeway replied, still reeling a bit, getting her sea legs.

Nan Loteth moved past them and went to the corner, where he poured something from an earthenware pitcher into a metal cup.

“Drink,” he said, his voice breathy but even. He handed the cup to Janeway.

“There isn’t any lead in this, is there?” she asked, hesitating.

Tuvok produced his tricorder and passed it over the cup, then shook his head. Janeway nodded. The water tasted awful. She drank it all.

“You aren’t afraid of us?” Janeway asked the old man, recalling what she had seen in her first vision—if that scene had been real.

The Drenarian took the cup from her. “Of you, no.”

“They claim they knew we were coming,” Tuvok explained.

“They say they were told by the spirits in the hills, the spirits of their ancestors,” Kim said.

“The ghosts,” Janeway said.

“Apparently, Captain,” Tuvok replied.

“I think I’ve met some of your ancestors myself,” Janeway told Nan Loteth. “Twice, as a matter of fact. I’d like you to tell me more about them, if you don’t mind.”

The Drenarian nodded. “My people have always turned to the wisdom of those who have gone before, those we call the Jun-Tath.

They protect us, comfort us, counsel us. Are you not guided in this world by those in the next?”

“Many of my people believe they are, though I have never personally known anyone to describe an encounter quite like the one I had,” Janeway said. She described the ghostly entity she had seen in her ready room, and the dreams Chakotay had told her about, but stopped short of relating the dream—if it had been a dream—of her visit to the smoky cavern.

Nan Loteth seemed to understand completely. “We have been shown to you, and you have been shown to us,” he said, wearing a gentle smile Janeway had thought his features incapable of. She decided there was a great deal to learn about these people, and despite the pain in her skull, she found herself eager to do so. Her unease had all but vanished.

She thought to say so, but hesitated as the earth began to shake perceptibly beneath her feet. A minor aftershock, only a fraction the intensity of the earlier quake. Still, it was more than enough to remind her that these people, whoever they were, were in danger of being lost to the universe forever. She looked in the Drenarian’s eyes, and she was all but certain she could see this same thought reflected there.

“The Jun-Tath told us of the others, too,” Nan Loteth continued less easily, raising his voice somewhat. “Of a time when demons would descend from the skies, of the suffering of many, of the coming of the end of the world. When the others came in their great sky-boat, we knew in our hearts they were the demons we had seen in our visions.

But some were not convinced. They had to be sure. They went to the clearing where the sky-boat rested, near the temple of Jaalett, and they watched. Nothing happened at first, but then the beings began leaving the boat for a time and returning.”

“But no one made contact with them?” Janeway asked.

“No, our people stayed well away from them. When no one came out or went in for one full day, some of my people went closer. My own brother was among them.”

Nan Loteth paused as the pain in his thoughts seemed to touch his face.

Janeway remembered her first vision clearly enough. She waited for him to go on.

“When they were almost close enough to touch the sky-boat, burning light came in streams from the boat’s hull and struck down all who stood there. Some say they heard the screams of the dying in the village itself.”

“Phaser fire,” Janeway confirmed, hearing her voice crack. She could feel the Drenarian’s pain and fear. She had been there, after all. “I saw them, the bodies of your people. I wasn’t sure it had really happened. I had hoped that…” She fell silent and stood just looking at Nan Loteth.

“That would seem to verify that the cruiser is at least partially operational,” Tuvok correctly noted. Janeway kept her attention on Nan Loteth.

“I went to the site,” he continued. “A few of the men lay there still moving, some moaning, where they had fallen. Then the moaning stopped.

The ones who had stayed back among the trees told us what had happened.”

“You had to leave them there,” Janeway said, nodding. “The bodies of the dead.”

“We dared not go too close for fear we too would be burned.”

“It was the only logical decision you could have made,” Tuvok assured him.

“So you’ve stayed away since then?” Kim said, nodding in anticipation of the answer.

“No. We attacked the people of the boat from the trees at the edge of the clearing,” the Drenarian said to everyone else’s surprise, “but our weapons were of no use against them. We wounded a few of them, I think, but they set the forest ablaze, and we were forced to move away.