Mosaic (22 page)

the science officer on an exploration into deep

spacesomeplace no one's seen before. That would be

thrilling."

He smiled easily at her. "Maybe we'll end up together. You

as science officer on my ship."

There was nothing arrogant or self-involved about Wil

Riker. He was low-key, comfortable, easy to talk to.

Charming, as Lettie had said.

Dangerous.

Already, she'd been drawn into amiable conversation with

him, her guard dropping in spite of herself. His blue eyes

held her like lasers, and she realized she didn't want to

look away. Her fingertips began to tingle. Time to take

control.

"My thesis is on massive compact halo objects. Are you

familiar with them?" A long dissertation on her part about

a dimly understood space phenomenon would put him to sleep.

Hardly the subject for sparkling conversation and certain

to dissuade any desire for him to see her again. But, to

her amazement, he was nodding. "A little. One of my science

teachers at home in Alaska has done some study of them. She

got me interested. What tack is your thesis taking?"

Kathryn was genuinely flustered now. Beyond his charm,

beyond his good looks and courteous demeanor, he was also a

serious student.

She stared at him, wishing she could find warts on his

nose, something, anything that would make him something

other than the most attractive man she'd ever met.

Because she wasn't going to get drawn into something as

potentially painful as another love affair. There was too

much to do, to learn, to accomplish, to waste emotional

energy like that. Feeling panicky, she rose. "I'm so sorry-I just remembered, I'm supposed to be at my terminal in

twenty minutes to retrieve some research materials I've

requested from the astrophysics laboratory." She was

vaguely aware of the bewilderment in Wil's eyes, Lettie's

shocked face, her friend Howie's surprise. She knew she was

babbling, but kept at it, hoping to sound plausible. "It's

on gravitational lensing, and I can't risk losing the

transmission, it's a part of my proposal and I don't dare

turn it in to the Scorcher"-a goofy smile toward Will at

this-"without that research. You understand. Well, so nice

to meet you, and I wish you the best. I'm sure you'll get

that ship. Goodbye.

Howie, Lettie-thanks for everything. It's been delightful.

Truly."

She was backing away as she went through this litany,

smiling and nodding as though what she was doing was the

most natural thing in the world. Only the three faces she

was retreating from told her otherwise.

Kathryn's back was to the door of the dorm room; she was

hunched over her terminal, doggedly inputting information.

The doors opened and she heard Lettie enter.

"How could you? How could you have embarrassed everyone

like that? I can't believe it-it's not even good manners!"

Lettie was outraged. She marched over to Kathryn to

continue berating her.

And saw that Kathryn's face was streaked with tears, eyes

swollen from a long bout of crying.

Lettie melted immediately. "Kathryn-what is it?

Tell me, please .... I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have come in

here like that . . . ."

"You had every right to," said Kathryn miserably.

"I was awful. I know. But I couldn't stay there a minute

longer."

"But why? What happened? Was he rude to you?"

"No, no, he's very sweet. Just like you said-charming,

attractive, intelligent. He may be the most wonderful man

I've ever met." And with that, Kathryn once more broke into

tears.

She was never able to explain fully to Lettie the

complexities of her despair-probably, she thought ruefully,

because she didn't understand them herself-but Lettie

finally claimed to understand her feelings, and promised

never to rope her into a blind date again.

She also made Kathryn go to bed for three hours, at which

time she woke feeling much better and stayed up the rest of

that night, the following day, and all the following night.

And at eight hundred hours on Monday morning there was a

padd waiting on Admiral Paris'

desk containing her thesis proposal. It was the beginning

of a remarkable relationship.

JAL SITTIK LISTENED AS MISKK

SPAT OUT HIS ACCOUNT OF THE debacle in the fruit grove. One

man dead, everyone else injured, some critically, from a

horrific battle with reptiles that dropped from the trees.

Miskk himself had nearly been killed, and would have been

were it not for his prodigious strength, which allowed him

to kill a serpent with his bare hands.

Sittik doubted this tale, but thought it unwise to

challenge Miskk given the turn of events. It was he who had

sent the men into the grove, and Miskk could easily make an

issue of that, one which he would bring to Maje Dut. Sittik

longed briefly for Miskk's own death in the coils of the

reptiles, but accepted that fate had decreed he would live

on to provide an ongoing obstacle to Sittik's quest for

success. So be itovercoming obstacles would only make him

stronger.

"You acquitted yourself well, Miskk. It is unfortunate

that Pelg did not survive, but his death will be spoken of

as a sacrifice to the great victory we will achieve today.

His name will be praised."

"Your great victory seems to elude you, Sittik. Have you

even located the Federations yet?"

Sittik smiled. He'd been waiting for this.

"Of course." He stomped his foot on the ground.

"They're underground. Just beneath us."

There was a flicker of confusion in Miskk's face, and

Sittik indulged himself in a small gloating laugh. He made

a mental note to reward the man who had detected the

Federation life signs beneath the surface, but saw no

reason to acknowledge him to Miskk. "There are subterranean

passageways-caves, perhaps-where they have taken refuge. We

haven't yet found the opening, but it's just a matter of

time."

"Why not simply blast an opening with weapons?"

"That's precisely what I intend to do, Miskk, if you'll

stop prattling on about your mishap."

Sittik strode away from him and toward the others, snapping

orders at them, wishing even more strongly that Miskk had

met his death-a slow one, preferably-within the snake-infested grove of trees.

Neelix had stayed with the injured at the main staging

area of the underground structure. Greta Kale was feeling

better and LeFevre fully recovered, though all of them

remained somewhat shaken by their gauntlet through the

reptiles.

Neelix thought briefly of the cake he'd made, still

waiting on Voyager for Tuvok's delectation.

The thought of the nocha confection was comforting to him

somehow; at the least, thinking of it was better than

thinking of those noxious snakes, and a lot better than

thinking of the Kazon who were prowling above them, looking

for a way down so they could slaughter everyone they found.

Captain Janeway, of course, would be looking for them,

and undoubtedly effect their rescue.

Eventually. Unless she had her hands full with the ship

those Kazon soldiers came from-a distinct possibility, as

Neelix saw it.

He made himself focus on the Grissibian cake, remembering

the explosion of flavor as the nocha detonated on the

tongue. Kes would love it. He looked around, wishing she

would come back.

He knew not to appear overly protective of her-she hated

that-but he couldn't help but be uncomfortable that she had

so few compunctions about exploring this alien structure.

There was no knowing what might be here. But Kes' curiosity

always outweighed her fear, and nothing he could say or do

would change that. Suddenly a fierce explosion rumbled

through the underground tunnels, and all of the crew

instinctively drew phasers. Tuvok came running from a

passageway, weapon drawn and tricorder scanning. "They are

firing from above. Trying to break through."

"That shouldn't take them long," Neelix replied, eyeing

the ceiling of the structure with apprehension.

"We can't be certain of that. We're unfamiliar with the

building material of this structure. It may be durable and

quite resistant to weapons fire." Another explosion

rumbled, then another. Dust and dirt began to fall from the

ceiling.

Tuvok hit his commbadge. "Tuvok to all personnel. Regroup

in the main staging area at once."

Neelix took this as his cue to hit his own communicator.

"Neelix to Kes. Did you hear that, sweeting?"

Only silence answered him. He hailed her again, then

hailed Kim, with whom she had left. No one answered. He

turned to Tuvok in some alarm.

"I wouldn't be concerned yet, Mr. Neelix.

Ensign Kim informed me that they were investigating a

stairway they had found. They may simply be blocked from

communication."

"But-where are they? And if they can't hear us, how will

they know to come back? I don't like this at all."

"Please don't succumb to panic. We must all do our best to

think clearly. Are the wounded able to travel?"

"Yes, everyone's basically all right. Where are

we going to travel to?" "I want to locate a position that

is strategically advantageous, one from which we can defend

ourselves most effectively."

The rest of the crew was beginning to collect in the

chamber, and Tuvok gave them orders. Soon, they all began

moving collectively down one of the passageways, and Neelix

hoped desperately they were moving toward Kes and Harry.

Harry and Kes were exploring the chamber in which they now

found themselves. Harry estimated it to be perhaps ten

meters square, with neither windows nor doors, and its

walls were of a material significantly different from that

of the underground tunnels and rooms they had seen so far.

It looked metallic, of a blue-purple hue which was the

same color as the ambient light in the room. Harry scanned

the room and read that the walls were composed of a metal

that was unknown to the Federation database. No surprise

there. But unlike the corridors they had investigated,

Harry found no indications of an organic component in these

walls. He glanced at Kes, who was looking around in

puzzlement. "The clicking noise is gone," she said.

Harry was relieved that she was making rational

statements; whatever trance had gripped her had seemingly

released its hold. He continued to scan. "Now I'm reading

energy signatures. There's technology of some kind at work

here-was He stopped abruptly, for he had detected a more

curious reading on his tricorder. Life signs.

Faint, delicate, like the heartbeats of tiny birds. But

unmistakable. Where were they coming from? The room seemed

to be empty except for the two of them.

But he was most definitely reading the life signs of an

alien species, throbbing gently.

They walked toward the wall. No seams were visible, no

joints. The satiny surface was cool to the touch but not

cold. They could find no mark, no pattern, nothing that

gave them a clue as to their next step. "We were led here,

I'm sure of it," said Kes. "I feltdrawn-here. By the

clicking sounds, and by a . . . a need to come. I couldn't

resist it."

"I know. I saw you. Whatever it was must have tapped into

your telepathic abilities, because it didn't affect me in

the same way."

"It felt . . . urgent. Vital. I had to follow the sound

wherever it took me because . . . because . . ." She

trailed off in some confusion. "Because why?"

"I'm not sure. I think I was going to say . .

. because if I didn't come here-death would be victorious."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know that it means anything. It's just what I was

feeling." "Do you feel that way now?"

"No. All the sensations are gone."

"Great. Now how the heck do we get out of here?"

He hit his commbadge, but wasn't surprised when his hail

didn't raise anyone. He began scanning again,

instinctively, looking for answers. He noticed that he'd

begun to perspire, and hated to admit he was that

apprehensive.

He began a tour of the room, scanning the walls closely.

Maybe he could locate the source of the faint life signs.

It was tedious work, and he wiped his brow several times

before he completed his circumnavigation. When he had

looped the room once, he came back to where Kes was

standing, her fingers lightly grazing the shiny walls. Then

she looked over at him in puzzlement.

"The wall feels warmer than before."

Harry realized Kes was perspiring, too. A few locks of her

hair were damp. He reached out, touched the wall, and found

that it was no longer cool.

It wasn't what you'd call hot, but it had lost the satiny

chill it had before. The tricorder confirmed it had risen

several degrees in temperature. Kes turned in the room,