The Escape (12 page)

"I have been thinking, Captain, about the planet below," Tuvok said. "If we return to the planet's surface, we should find whoever-or whatever is mov-ing the equipment around. We might be able to get information about our away team." "Good suggestion, Tuvok," Janeway said.

"Also," Tuvok said, "if it turns out to be one of the time travelers, he might have a way to return to the past without having to trust the old shuttle that kidnapped our crew." "So we're. going ghost hunting," Paris said. He shook his head and downed the last of his hot drink. "Wonderful." Janeway looked at him. "I take it you are volunteering again?" Paris nodded. "Can't let a Vulcan have all the fun. He wouldn't appreciate it." Tuvok glanced at him without a smile.

"See what I mean?" Paris said.

KJANDERS STEPPED OUT OF THE QUARTERS THAT CAPTAIN Janeway had so nicely provided for him, and the door hissed closed behind him.

He had never before been in such an orderly place.

Even the colors on Voyager were tame. No bright oranges, no deep purples. A lot of grays, soft blues, and an occasional black line for definition.

The request that Kjanders had just received from Chakotay sounded a lot more like an order than an entreaty. This ship, while seeming more benign, was much more structured than Alcawell had ever been.

Kjanders doubted he could duck into the background here and expebledpt to remain forgotten. His quarters were a case in point. In the short time they had confined him there, he had had a visitor, several communications, and an inquiry after his health from the guard outside. The inquiry had startled him the Most-he had been investigating an out-of-order machine on the wall which, the computer told him, used to make food. He had been clanging around inside the machine when the guard had called in to him.

The guard was gone now. And even though people nodded to him as they passed in the corridor, they seemed less interested in him than they had been before. Good.

He hoped that trend would continue. He didn't want to call much more attention to himself. Sometimes he thought Chakotay saw too much as it was.

Kjanders glanced at the diagram of the ship on the wall across from his quarters. The ever-present computer, the diagrams, the passing uniformed crew made him feel as if he had stumbled into a branch of Control. A branch that knew how to eat well and wear comfortable clothing, but a branch all the same.

Once he located the turbolift, he strode down the hall at the same confident pace as the rest of Voyagees crew. Perhaps if they gave him a uniform. Yes. That might work. He would have to modify his hairstyle, but that wouldn't bother him.

The more he looked like them, the more they might accept him.

He stepped onto the turbolift and asked it to stop on the level with the officers' mess. It made a slight hum as it rose. He found it odd that these Starfleet people did not use transporters to move around their ship. The ship was large enough that if it existed on Alcawell, it would have a set of internal transporters In on each level. Starfleet seemed to put a higher premium on foot travel than Alcawellians did.

When he entered the officers' mess, he stopped as he had the first time and stared out the windows into the darkness of space. Alcawell was partially visible, its surface empty and cold. The memory of his arrival made him shudder.

"Well," Chakotay said. "You arrived." He was standing near one of the tables. He had a plate covered with yellow bread in his hand. At the table were two steaming mugs.

"Yes," Kjanders said. "It wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be." "Good." Chakotay put the bread down, and sat.

"I asked for corn bread yesterday. They made it for me today, once they were convinced they had the ingredients. Would you like some?" Kjanders sat beside him and took a bit of bread.

It had a surprisingly sweet taste.

Chakotay smiled. "A bit of home," he said. "As is the coffee. Strong and black." Kjanders picked up his mug.

"Be careful," Chakotay said. "It's bitter." Anything that smelled that rich couldn't be bitter.

Kjanders took a sip and nearly spit it out. He made himself swallow. "You drink this?" he said.

"Most people put sugar and cream in it." He pulled two other dishes closer. "I like mine strong and nasty$99 The words had an ominous ring. Kjanders ignored them. He shoved sugar into his mug, sipped, and decided to add the cream as well. When the liquid was only slightly darker than the milk, he finally decided he liked the taste. "I take it you didn't invite me for a friendly meal," Kjanders said. "No." Chakotay took a bite of corn bread, then sipped his coffee. "I want you to know that I'm the one who got the guard called off your door and got you the freedom to walk through the ship." Kjanders smiled. "This time I'll remember to say thanks." "Good," Chakotay said as if the thanks didn't matter at all. "I want you to know, though, that I understand you. I realize you're running from something.

I don't want that something to interfere with anything on this ship." Kjanders felt hot. He made himself take another sip of his own coffee. How much had Chakotay figured out? Kjanders hadn't done anything to give away his intention of taking over this ship.

"So I would suggest you cooperate with me in getting our team back." "This sounds like a repeat of the conversation we had tilde Real Time hour ago, Commander," Kjanders said.

"It isn't." Chakotay leaned toward him.

Kjanders suddenly realized that Chakotay was a large man who wore his power very well. "We've just discovered movement on the planet. Ships lifting off that shouldn't be able to run, equipment flying on its own, possibly to scare our people who were investigating 128 below. I want to know if someone came with you or if someone came after you to this time." The coEee's bitterness came through all the sweeteners. Kjanders stomach turned. "I hope not," he said, allowing his nausea to show. "If they did, they'll take me back and then I'm a dead man." "Is it customary to send someone after a ti equals violatorThat' Chakotay asked. Kjanders shrugged. "That would fall under the eighthundred violations, and most of those are classified. We all know the laws and the punishments, but not how the enforcement is carried out. If we knew any more than that, time would be threatened." Chakotay turned his head. He took another bit of his piece of corn bread, chewed, and swallowed. "You still haven't told me if you arrived alone." 6 tilde You had me on your scanners.

You know I did." Kjanders's voice rose just a bit. His Control analogy wasn't far off.

""And you have no idea what could cause the problems down there?" Kjanders shook his head. He really didn't want to think about the emptiness below.

"For all I know," he said, "it could have been the wind." Torres paced back and forth across their cell. The fact that they were in something that resembled crew quarters on the ship didn't make this any less a prison. Kim sat on an overstuffed chair, and Neelix reclined on a chaise longue, his hands clasped behind his head. Torres walked past the flowering plants (she had 1129 already picked the blooms off and tossed them into a disposal-the smell was bringing back too many memories of growing up) and into the barren kitchen. Not a weapon in sight.

Not that she expected one. It wouldn't have mattered if they had one. Rawlik had let them keep their phasers. The "backtiming" trick that the guards had took care of any problem. Torres could stun someone only to have her phaser confiscated a few moments earlier. Her head ached from all the double-thought this time travel culture required. Rawlik had explained everything carefully, even answering Neelix's questions- (but what good is traveling 500,000 years if you're stuck at the same desk day after day?

Wouldn't you want. adventure?) comall the time maintaining eye contact with Torres. She couldn't tell if he found her attractive or annoying. Probably neither. Not that it mattered anyway. He was part of the Control that planned to kill her. She had had her run-ins with bureaucracies before. It took a pretty special person to cut all the red tape.

Neelix believed Rawlik was that person.

Torres wasn't*sure. She paced to the door, opened it, and peered down the hall. The same orange-suited guard stood outside. He smiled at her. These people were awfully friendly for jailers. She preferred a bit more rudeness from people who were going to commit something as personal as murder. She slammed the door shut. 1130 "Eventually," Neelix said without opening his eyes, "the door will shatter and, they'll slap another violation on us. What do you think the penalty is for door-shattering?" "Death," Kim said. His tone was dry. "After all, it does affect travel." Torres frowned. She remembered Kim's dark sense of humor from when she had been trapped with him in the Ocampa Hospital. No wonder he was able to keep himself superficially calm during all this turmoil. He had a running commentary of dry, witty remarks to keep himself distracted. "I don't find that funny," Torres said. "We should be working on a way out of here." "They've made it easy," Kim said. "We have our phasers and the door isn't locked. The guard isn't strong enough to fight the three of us." "There's just this little matter of an underground cavern and four hundred and forty four million years," Neelix said. He opened his eyes. When he was serious, he looked a bit like a wet puppy. "I hope Kes is all right." "I'm sure she's fine," Torres said. "She's on Voyager. And how can you be so relaxed? It was your naps that got us in trouble in the first place." "Talaxians have more need of sleep than humans do." He paused, looked a bit chagrined. "Or Klingons. Or whatever you're calling yourself today." "I think my Klingon side is beginning to become dominant." Torres said each word slowly and with emphasis. "And for once I don't believe I'll fight it." At that statement Kim stood up and blocked her path. "Lieutenant, I think you're right. I think we should figure out how to get out of here." "After I kill Neelix," she said, but did not push past Kim. "Don't worry," Neelix. said. "The Mean people will soon take care of that for you." He sat up, yawned, and then stretched. He stood, walked to the kitchen, and banged around the cupboards for a moment. "They named themselves well," he mumbled. "Only Mean people would give us such a wonderful kitchen and forget the food.

I was hoping to whip up some breakfast, since my stomach tells me it is that time of the day." Torres sat on the nearest chair so hard that it groaned beneath her weight. Maybe her Klingon side was.dominating, because she was hungry. Her stomach was growling. She had just ignored it with everything else going on. Kim remained in the middle of the room, as if he expected Torres to spring across any moment and attack Neelix. She wouldn't. She knew better. It was just that sometimes the little man got on her nerves. Seriously on her nerves.

Faint laughter floated through the door. Kim turned toward it. Torres sat up. Neelix came out of the kitchen holding a small shiny pan.

A moment later Rawlik walked in, smiling.

"Ah," Neelix said to Kim, "a smile.

It's a friendly comsmile too. I hope this means we're about to be rescued." "'Well," Rawlik said, "we're a step closer. I got the council to postpone their decision until tomorrow." "Postpone?"'Kim asked. "What does that meanThat" "It means we're not going to die tonight," Torres said. Rawlik glanced at her, his expression soft and sympathetic. "Each delay is promising." "I heard that when I was applying for Starfleet Academy," Torres said. "And you got in," Kim said.

Rawlik sat beside Torres. The man was sensitive. He didn't sit too close, but he wasn't too far away either. "I promise you," he said as if he were speaking to her only, "that I will be working through the night to find anything I can find to save you, We are not a barbaric society. We just have some very strict laws about breaking the timetravel restrictions." "Very strict," Neelix said.

"Veeeeery strict. So strict, in fact, that I would hate to see your definition of rigid." Rawlik shot Neelix an uncertain glance.

Kim sat down across from Rawlik. "I'm sorry," Kim said. "We do appreciate all that you're doing for us. The day has been a bit stressful and being hungry isn't helping." Rawlik looked shocked for a moment. "I never thought," he said.. "I will have dinner brought here to Y.

A bit stressful? Torres mouthed behind Rawlik's back. Kim ignored her.

"Thanks," he said. "We'd appreciate it." Yes, They all appreciated one last meal.

"Tell me,"
133 Torres said, "What are you planning to do in our defense tomorrow?" Rawlik turned to her. He did like her. She could see it in his eyes. Not that she had given him any encouragement. Not that their friendship had any real future.

"I'm afraid," he said, "there is no defense for what you've done. It is a matter of record.

I honestly believe the only hope is to plead your ignorance of our culture and then plead for mercy." "Has that ever worked?" Neelix asked from across the room. "No," Rawlik said softly. "It never has."

AS THE TRANSPORTER BEAM RELEASED HIM, PARIS GLANCED around at the windblown surface of the planet. The ghost shuttle was back in place and the wind had already erased most of the marks in the sand from the dragging ramp. The metal plate that had first floated at them was already covered by sand, with the wind piling more around it by the minute.

Paris pulled out his tricorder while beside him Tuvok did the same. The captain had decided that this time only the two of them would beam down. They weren't so much working on the shuttle as looking for whoever or whatever was moving things around.

Paris scanned the area to his right, while Tuvok scanned the area to the left. Sand, sand, and more sand. Beneath bits of metal and pavement. "Nothing,"" Paris said.

Tuvok nodded and moved purposefujly across the opening between the ships toward the ghost ship. Paris followed, pulling the collar on his coat up as high as it would go to protect his face from the stinging bite of the blowing sand. This was the driest planet Paris had ever been on. He could feel his nose clog up and his eyes fight to keep enough moisture. And they were on the winter side of the planet. He didn't want to imagine what the summer would be like-sand and concrete surrounded by thousands of huge hunks of metal. The heat would be as intense as the cold. Tuvok moved straight toward the ghost ship, not seeming even to notice the wind.