The Escape (13 page)

Tuvok never seemed to notice anything. Sometimes Paris thought Vulcans had turned off parts of their bodies except their brains. If Paris ever did that he would have nothing left to live for. A bit of excitement, a beautiful woman, and a ship to pilot were all he asked for out of life. He didn't care if he had the same woman or the same ship from day to day, but he did care if he missed out on his excitement. He was hoping, just hoping, that the ghost would reappear and attempt to scare them again. The last time had been a touch frightening. This time would be exhilarating.

And if the ghost could lead them to Kim and the others, Paris would be damn pleased.

Damn pleased.

TV-VOK stopped near the ghost shuttle and used his tricorder to scan the shuttle at close range. Sometimes Tuvok's tricorder seemed to be an extension of his brain. Together they learned things.that Paris could 136 just guess at. Still, Tuvok would need Paris when it came time to rush the ghost. Sometimes the logical, considered reaction was not the best reaction.

Apparently Tavok's tricorder didn't pick anything up, because he moved another few steps. Paris turned his back to the wind, keeping his gaze on Tuvok at all times.

Sure, Voyager could beam them up if they got separated, but in this cold and wind, the wrong few minutes alone could be deadly. Paris scanned the surrounding shuttles for any movement besides wind.

Nothing. This place was as dead as any place he'd ever seen. What had Kjanders said? That this place was once alive and flowing with people? Paris found that almost hard to believe.

Tuvok nodded to himself and moved around the shuttle, stopping every few meters to take another scan.

Paris followed closely behind, guarding Tuvok's back.

On the other side of the wreck the landing gear had collapsed under the weight, and parts of the ramp provided a wedge, leaving the shuttle canted" at an odd angle. That angle was just enough to protect them from the wind, and Tuvok motioned they should go under there.

Without the sand blowing at them, the pocket of calm felt almost livable. Paris wiped his face and looked at Tuvok. Sand crusted Tuvok's upswept eyebrows, giving him a look of great age.

They could talk here without shouting.

"Anything?" Paris asked.

Thvok nodded and pointed upward. "See that faint dent in the plate there?" 137 Paris studied the plate until he saw what Thvok was pointing toward. A dent in a very old piece of metal that no one would notice. "Yeah." Tuvok.checked his tricorder again. "A small antigravity device was attached there not too long ago. TW-O other similar devices were spaced around this ship." Paris scanned the area, but couldn't find the anomaly that led Tuvok to his conclusion. That didn't surprise him. Paris was a bit casual on some of his science-when it didn't apply to piloting. He was willing to trust Tuvok, "Any idea who did this?" "Unknown," Tuvok said. "But it seems that our "ghost," as you have all been calling him, uses technology to achieve his effects." "You were worried?" Paris said.

Tuvok gave him a measured gaze. "Of course not." "So now that we know a living agent brought about these spectral events, how come it hasn't come for us again?" Paris asked. "Because," Tuvok said, "we have not approached the item it is protecting." Paris stared at Tuvok for a moment before he said, "The working time shuttle." Tuvok nodded. "Exactly." "Logical," Paris said.

"Of course," Tuvok said without so much as even a smile. He led the way back across the open, windblown area between the shuttles. The first blast of wind-driven sand felt like tiny pieces, of broken glass hitting his skin. Paris brought his collar up even In higher, wishing he had thought to wear some kind of extreme-weather gear. They stopped at the bottom of the ramp of the shuttle that had taken the first away team and brought back Kjanders. They used their tricorders, to scan for any movement or signs of anything. Paris got nothing. Not a movement, not a sign of life. Nothing.

Finally Tuvok moved about halfway up the ramp and stopped, waiting, holding up his tricorder, getting readings of the surrounding area. Paris stopped a meter below him and did the same. Nothing moved.

Nothing floated at them.

"I'm going to widen my scan," Paris said, shouting in the wind. "Our ghost might be coming from a distance." Tuvok nodded. "I will study the ship while you stand guard." Tuvok turned and moved another few steps up the ramp, his gaze intent on the tricorder in his hand.

. Paris walked down the ramp, wincing at the strength of the wind. Alcawellians didn't want to leave this place? They preferred traveling through time to traveling in space? Obviously they didn't know that the vast universe had other things to offer besides cold, driving winds. Using the ship as the center of a circle, he estimated the distance between the other ships and methodically opened up the scan by that distance. He carefully scanned the full circle around the ship, paying close attention to the area blocked from their sight on the other side of the shuttle. He knew that on board 139 Voyager, Lieutenant Carey was also continuously scanning the area, but at the moment Paris wished it were Kim up there. Paris trusted Carey, but he'd have just felt better if it were Kim.

It wasn't until he widened his field of scan a second time to the distance of about five of the old wrecks away that he caught movement to the north. He tapped his comm badge, opening the link to Carey in Engineering. "Lieutenant, focus down on an area about half a kilometer to our north." There was a moment of silence, then Carey came back on. "I have some small movement inside a shuttle five wrecks down from you.

Nothing alive. Just slight movement of what looks to be a piece of ceiling panel on one of the old ships. Might be normal settling and collapse.

I'm getting lots of that kind of reading throughout the field with the wind kicking up the way it is this time of the day." "Thank you. Paris out." That reading from Carey confirmed the readings Paris had. But there was something odd about this one and he just couldn't dismiss it. He wasn't sure why. That wouldn't play well with a Vulcan. He sighed, shielded his eyes, and. faced the ramp, motioning Tlivok to join him.

Paris told Tuvok what he had seen and that Carey had confirmed it. Then he said, "I know the wind is blowing like a son of a gun out here, and I know these ships are going to settle. I just can't believe one would settle this close to us." Tuvok glanced at him, then back at his own tricorder. Paris could see he was doing another quick 140 scan of the area. When it came up negative, he looked back up at Paris. Paris shrugged.

"Call it a hunch. I never abandon a hunch." Tuvok nodded. "We are getting nowhere here.

Examining another site would be logical." Paris grinned. "Great. I didn't think convincing you would be this easy." "I have been around humans a long time," Tuvok said. "And, over the years, I have learned that hunches are often based on things seen but improperly processed. You probably read something you failed to understand and yet you had enough sense to know it was important." "Ouch," Paris said. "I think I've just been insulted." "Logic is never personal," Tuvok said and started to walk toward the north. "Yes," Paris said, "but the dissemination of it often is." He pulled up his collar again to keep the sand out of his shirt and off his neck and followed Tuvok to the mystery ship.

Drickel had been dozing for the last hour, waiting for the PlanetHoppers to return as he knew they would. The ship he had found still open and sitting on its landing gear was deteriorated almost beyond belief. But inside, the old padding ripped off two chairs offered a decent couch for his nap. Besides, in the ship he was out of the wind. He thought of.setting up a beating device, but decided against it. The Planet1141 Hoppers above might be able to sense that sort of thing. Ghosts didn't need heat. At least the type of ghost he was trying to pretend to be. The alarm in his earpiece woke him when the PlanetHoppers' transporter beam dropped them near the live ship.

He stretched and moved, stiffer than he wanted to be thanks to the cold.

The PlanetHoppers' persistence annoyed him.

If they had been scared away the first time he would have been able to return to home and warmth shortly. But he had had a bad feeling when he saw Pointed Ears. The ghost trick had worked on every other scavenger, but this one seemed intrigued by the events rather than frightened. And intrigued was the exact opposite reaction from the one Drickel wanted.

Drickel doublechecked to make sure his shield was still in place so the PlanetHoppers wouldn't see or sense him. It was. He stood, clicked on his small light,, and stretched.

"Time to go play ghost again," he said to himself, and his voice sounded hollow in the almost dark interior of the ship. He did a few quick stretching exercises to loosen his muscles, and as he did, he pondered the problem of Pointed Ears. Maybe only harmless ghosts intrigued the PlanetHopper. Drickel didn't want to hurt anyone, but threats were something he would find acceptable. It would take a lot of control-he certainly wouldn't be able to use a ship again-but he could do it. If old Pointed Ears thought his life in danger, he might never set foot on Alcawell gain.

Drickel finished his exercises, then stepped toward the door to pick up his bag and be on his way.

At that moment the vibrations of his movement in the old ship, possibly combined with the wind, loosened a metal ceiling panel. It gave way and dropped.

He caught enough of a glimpse of it coming, and the sound of it letting loose also warned him just in enough time to get his hand above his head. The heavy panel hit his arm, smashing him to the floor and coming to rest with half of it on his shoulder and the rest over his lower body. His head banged hard against the floor and his ears rang. He tried to cover his head with his good arm, thinking that more things from the ceiling would come crashing down.

But nothing did.

He waited, staying perfectly still, holding his breath. Nothing more.

And after a moment it was clear that nothing was going to come down immediately.

Then the pain started, a jabbing shot that ran from his arm to his hand and back into his chest. He closed his eyes and thought, not allowing himself to panic.

His movements in the shuttle must have released the already loose ceiling panel. A mistake on his part. He should have checked the shuttle more thoroughly before using it as a base. When he got back he would ask Control not to send him to any more cold destinations. His desire to be warm had made him careless.

And might have gotten him seriously injured. us He took a slow breath, checking to see if any ribs were broken. It didn't seem so, but his mouth and throat were totally caked with the dust. He slowly opened his eyes to get his bearings. His lamp was still working near his bag, doing its best to light up the billowing clouds of dust. He was on his side and his legs, hips, and shoulders were pinned under the weight of the heavy metal panel. His arm ached and he could tell he was going to have one hell of a headache. He just hoped the panel falling on him hadn't broken his shielding. The Planet-iloppers would spot him for sure.

Taking two deep breaths choked with dust, he tried to raise the metal plate off his shoulders.

Pain shot through his right arm and he quit pushing. The plate had moved, but it was going to be a slow and very painful process to get it off himself. If he didn't do it right, he would end up with more than just a hurt arm. This plate was so heavy it would crush a hand or a foot, and then what would he do?

If he could move his arm down to his belt he might be able to reach his transporter and beam himself out.

But he would also have to shut off his shield to do that, thus showing himself to the PlanetHoppers. That would be his fast option. He wanted to try to remove the plate himself first. He took another deep breath and tried to lift the edge of the plate with his shoulder. It did move, but not enough to make much difference. It was too bad his bag was so far away, with its antigravity disks. He could have floated this off in an instant.

He looked 144 around for something he could use to pull his bag toward him, but saw nothing. It was two meters away and totally out of reach. His only physical choice was to crawl out carefully and very slowly. He just hoped the PlanetHoppers were staying away from that working shuttle. Because this was going to take some time.

JANEWAY NORMALLY GOT A LOT OF IDEAS IN HER READY room, but the ideas that were coming to her over Alcawell did not please her at all. She stood in front of the long windows, staring down at the planet, a cup of traditional coffee cooling on her desk. Chakotay had brought it to her. He was sitting in a chair behind her, waiting, with a patience she could never mimic, for her to explain why she had brought him here.

Finally she sighed. Whether she liked the idea or not didn't matter. What mattered was if it would get results.

"Chakotay," she said as she turned to face him.

"I think we have to send another away team into the past." He crossed his arms, but did not look startled.

"I trust you've examined the risks," he said.

She nodded. She was relieved that he didn't try to review all the arguments against the trip, as her first officer on her last commission did. "I've decided that we've put too much stock in Kjanders.

None of us trust him. If he's speaking the truth we will lose both teams. But if he's not, we'll get both teams back." "You've never shirked risk before," Chakotay said. "After all, you tried to capture me. his Janeway smiled, at Chakotay's joke and at his calm acceptance of her idea. She walked down the steps toward his chair.

"It seems to me," Janeway said, "that instead of studying the working ship that we found, we should be tearing into the other inoperative ships around it to figure out how they used to work. We know their time travel uses chroniton particles in some fashion or another.

If we can at least discover how the tracking works on those other shuttles, we might be able to use their technology to track an away team through time." Chakotay nodded, thinking. "That just might work, but what-was "Captain," Lieutenant Carey's voice broke in. Both Chakotay and Janeway paused. "I think I found something you9ll want to see." Janeway and Chakotay stood in unison and headed for the door. It slid open quickly and they both hurried to the bridge.