Star Trek - War Drums Part 12

A camera swiveled to watch her as she approached the door and pushed the buzzer. "State your business," said a synthesized voice.

"Ensign Ro to see Myra and Gregg Calvert," she replied.

"Ro!" called a friendlier voice on the intercom. It was Myra. "Wait there, we have the manual bolt on the door."

Ro waited at least a minute. When she heard the bolt snapping back and the door opening she looked down to where she expected to see Myra. Instead she found herself staring into Gregg Calvert's muscular chest, which he quickly hid by b.u.t.toning his brown s.h.i.+rt.

"Sorry." He smiled. "Myra wasn't as together as she thought she was. Please come in."

He stepped back and allowed her to enter an apartment that was doing its best not to look like an army barracks. But it was losing. Despite the personalized touch of some unusual plants, family photographs, and limp curtains, it looked about as homey as what it was-several metal utility shacks welded together. It reminded her of the places where the Bajora lived. The difference was, she reminded herself, that the Bajora lived in makes.h.i.+ft housing out of desperation-the humans lived here by choice. She didn't know for whom to feel sorrier.

"I wondered if I would be in time to have breakfast with you," she explained, trying to sound cheerful.

"Sure," he answered. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrific!" she exclaimed, stretching her arms over her head. "I feel like walking the twenty kilometers to the ocean."

"Not too many people would give you odds on getting there," Gregg said glumly. Then he forced himself to be upbeat. "This is a great favor your captain is doing us. There's only so much you can tell about an ocean by looking at sensors. I sent the Enterprise some coordinates of tide pools that Doctor Drayton wanted to see, so that's where we'll go."

"Does anything live in the ocean?"

"That's a matter of opinion," chirped a voice behind them. Myra bounded into the makes.h.i.+ft living room. "You'll see when we get there. I think it's alive, but Doctor Drayton's not sure. Of course, we can't agree whether it's animal or vegetable, either."

"We were planning to eat at the dining hall," Gregg told the ensign. "Is that all right?"

"Lead on," said Ro, smiling.

It was perfectly all right with Ensign Ro, but not so all right with Louise Drayton, whom they met outside the community building. She didn't say anything, but Ro felt the hostility bristling from her, just as it had the night before the mantis bite. Having survived a brush with death and the hallucinatory weirdness of her own mind, the Bajoran was in a mood to be forgiving. She had even convinced herself that the mantis bite was an accident, although she was curious to hear Doctor Drayton's opinion of it.

Ro studied the compact, dark-haired woman, think ing she didn't look her fifty-three years. Her personal dynamism made her seem youthful, spritelike, despite her tough att.i.tude. Ro had no problem with outspoken and opinionated people, because she was one of them herself. But bigotry rankled her, because her people and family had suffered so much from it. That made it even harder to accept the fact that an intelligent woman like Doctor Drayton wouldn't give her a chance, for no apparent reason except bigotry. She resolved to make a project out of Drayton, thinking that if she could win her over, she could win over any of the colonists.

But she couldn't resist asking Drayton the foremost question on her mind. As they filed into the cafeteria line Ro remarked, "That mantis bite really gave me a scare, I can tell you. Myra tells me you're an expert on the pit mantis. I would welcome hearing anything you could tell me about it."

"I'm sorry," muttered Doctor Drayton, looking sheepish for the first time. "That bite might have been my fault. I don't know how, but one of the mantises escaped from its terrarium. They're devilishly clever, and strong. They've bitten and punched holes through several tough grades of metal screen."

Drayton averted her eyes from Ro's. "I can't help liking them," she admitted. "That's probably why I keep too many of them. They're highly venomous but, fortunately, very territorial-they never travel in swarms. I don't think a person would last long if bitten by a swarm of them. I call this species a pit mantis because it has a heat-sensitive pit above its mandible, something like a pit viper."

Drayton caught herself, as if she was talking too much. "I do apologize for your illness," she said, "although I did tell you the lab was unsafe for sleeping."

"How close to death was I?" asked Ro with frank curiosity.

"That was an adult female that bit you," replied Drayton, as if that meant something very serious.

"Bit her twice!" Myra interjected from behind them.

Drayton nodded. "Thank you, Myra. That certainly would have killed a child or a person in less than perfect health. I'm not a medical doctor, but I understand your s.h.i.+p's doctor did an excellent job keeping your blood pressure and temperature in acceptable ranges ... for your species."

"That she did," agreed Gregg Calvert. "We were all impressed with Doctor Crusher."

Ro smiled, her outlook brightening by the moment. It was her turn at the food counter, and she gratefully took a large portion of hot cereal and a dish of applesauce. There were a few rude stares from the kitchen workers and other diners, but not too many. Ro felt she was making progress, at least by her own measure.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the ocean," Ro remarked as they took their seats at a family-style picnic table. "I've been studying it for days now, but that's not like seeing it with your own eyes."

Gregg chuckled. "Myra and Doctor Drayton wax rhapsodic about that ocean, but it looks sort of eerie and barren to me."

"Dad, it can't support life, but it does!" countered Myra. "That's what's so neat about it. Doctor Drayton, please pa.s.s the b.u.t.ter."

"Here, child," muttered Drayton. "There may be life in that ocean, or rather on top of it."

"Under it, too," said Ro. "There's some impressive seismic activity in those depths. I know it must look like a lot of brackish water to you, Gregg, but that ocean is one of Selva's main tourist attractions. That's what I feel like-a tourist. I just want to see the sights."

Everyone chuckled, even Louise Drayton. Ro took a big bite of cereal and munched it happily.

"The euphoric feeling after a bite from a pit mantis is one of its most curious aftereffects," observed Drayton. "Enjoy it while it lasts, Ensign Ro."

"I guess I do feel pretty good," said the Bajoran. She finished the rest of her food in record time. "I'm going to get seconds," she announced.

"Increased appet.i.te," nodded Louise Drayton. "Typical."

"I'll go," said Gregg, standing quickly. "I'm hungry this morning, too, and it didn't take a bug bite. I agree with you, Ro, it'll be nice to see something besides these four walls."

"That reminds me," said Louise Drayton, wiping her mouth, "I haven't packed. How much time do we have?"

"Half an hour," answered Gregg. "Please don't bring too much, Doctor-a canteen, a tricorder, some specimen jars. We may have to move quickly. Oh, and bring your phaser." He looked pointedly at Ro. "Everyone but Myra will be armed."

That took some of the l.u.s.ter off the morning, and Ro thought about protesting. Then she remembered the man who'd been overpowered in the guard tower a couple nights earlier. "Set to stun," she replied.

"Ensign, you look great in our clothes," said Gregg with a sly smile. "But I'm glad you're wearing your communicator badge, in case we have to contact your s.h.i.+p."

"You don't take much for granted, do you?" asked Ro.

"No," said Gregg Calvert. He took her bowl. "I'll be right back."

Myra beamed at Ro. "He likes you."

Drayton stood brusquely and declared, "I'll join you in the square at nine o'clock." She stomped off.

Myra looked after the departed entomologist and giggled. She whispered even lower, "I think she likes my dad, too, but she's never done anything about it. I know he'd be surprised to hear it. I like you better, anyway."

Ro mildly scolded the girl. "You shouldn't take such an active interest in your father's personal life."

Myra shrugged. "Why not? What else is there to do around here?"

Gregg Calvert returned to the table, set down the plates, and brushed a strand of blond hair off his forehead. "I'll let you two finish breakfast," he said. "I want to make sure your s.h.i.+p has the right coordinates."

"You're really nervous about this, aren't you?" asked Ro.

Gregg replied, "I'm just the head of security taking his daughter, our most distinguished scientist, and a visiting Starfleet officer into the territory of savages who try to kill us on sight. Why should I be nervous?"

"We'll be fine," Ro said encouragingly. Perhaps, she mused, she judged these settlers too harshly for their apparent bigotry-she knew all too well how the constant fear of attack could to do terrible things to a community's collective psyche. The Bajoran checked to make sure that her comm badge was securely fixed to the rough fabric over her heart.

"We won't be alone," she a.s.sured him.

Five minutes before the rendezvous time Ensign Ro, Gregg and Myra Calvert, and Doctor Drayton were gathered in the town square of New Reykjavik, eagerly awaiting their molecular transport. Doctor Drayton was wearing a backpack stuffed with so much equipment that she looked ready to topple over, but her determined jaw made it obvious she was bringing whatever she wanted. She also had a Type II pistol phaser strapped to her waist. Myra carried a tricorder, and Gregg had a medikit and survival gear strapped to his back. He also wore a holstered phaser on his belt.

In contrast, Ro had decided to be a real tourist. She brought nothing but her communicator badge, personal phaser slipped un.o.btrusively into her pocket, and a smile. There was no piece of equipment she could carry that would tell her anything more about the tectonic plates a thousand kilometers offsh.o.r.e, and she had no wish to collect specimens-not if they were anything like the pit mantis. She was merely going to look at the ocean and do something very unscientific-that is, to see if she could get any impressions from it.

Ro's cheerful mood was cut short by a booming voice. "Don't hesitate to defend yourselves!" called Raul Oscaras, striding toward them across the green. "For G.o.d's sake, be careful. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

"We will," sighed Gregg Calvert, who didn't need to be reminded about the danger.

Oscaras turned to Ensign Ro and warned, "I'm holding you responsible for the fate of this party, because this trip was your idea."

"We might as well take advantage of the Enterprise," she replied. Whether her good mood was an aftereffect of the mantis bite or merely relief at still being alive, Ro didn't care-she wasn't going to let anyone bring her down, especially not the bl.u.s.tery president of New Reykjavik.

"Just watch yourselves," said Oscaras. "You have my permission to leave."

Ro shook her head in amazement at the self-importance of the man but said nothing. She was relieved when a familiar voice sounded over her communicator: "Captain Picard to Ensign Ro."

She tapped the badge and answered, "Ro here."

"How many in your party?" asked the captain.

"Four, counting myself."

"Then perhaps I'll join you," said Captain Picard. "Are you ready to beam aboard?"

"Yes," she said quickly.

Their bodies dematerialized into swirls of glittering molecules.

Chapter Eleven.

ENSIGN RO, Myra and Gregg Calvert, and Doctor Drayton rematerialized in Transporter Room Three aboard the Enterprise. They were met by Chief O'Brien and Captain Picard, who was dressed to travel in a warm-looking suede jacket. He welcomed them with a smile.

"Wow!" said Myra, gaping at a transporter facility the crew of the Enterprise took for granted. "Can we look around?"

Captain Picard stepped jauntily aboard the platform. "Perhaps later," he replied. "At the moment most of the crew is performing diagnostic tests and maintenance."

"Can we get on to the ocean?" asked Louise Drayton impatiently. "I don't want to waste a second."

"Very well," said Picard, centering himself on a transporter pad. "Chief O'Brien, you have the coordinates."

The chief nodded. "Locked in. If you want to come back quickly, don't hesitate to call."

"We shan't," answered Picard. "Energize."

A dull hum suffused the room, and the five people in the chamber evaporated into shafts of light.

They materialized on a black beach with copper-colored waves was.h.i.+ng ash.o.r.e at a leisurely pace. The polished ebony pebbles crunched loudly under his feet as Captain Picard took a few hesitant steps along the beach. A wave splashed ash.o.r.e and dumped some reddish sc.u.m atop Picard's boot; the substance instantly coalesced, like mercury, clinging to itself. It slid off the toe of his boot into the coa.r.s.e black sand, leaving a gray trail where the black shoe polish had been.

"Hey!" exclaimed Picard, jumping back in alarm.

"Oh, yes," said Doctor Drayton, "the sea foam is acidic. Don't let it get on you."

"Also alive and sentient!" yelled Myra, jogging down the beach toward an archway of black rock that jutted from the forest and disappeared into the churning sea, forming a natural bridge between the two elements.

"Myra! Wait for the rest of us!" called Gregg like a worried parent. He trod after her and was quickly followed by Ensign Ro.

Drayton shook her head at Picard, muttering, "That child. She thinks the pond sc.u.m you see on the waves is sentient. I will admit our tests show it may have a hive mind, like bees and ants. But how much thinking it does is open to debate."

"What do you think?" asked Picard.

"I think it's a remarkable organism," answered Drayton, "and we need to camp out here for a year to study it. We have quite a world here, and we don't know one fifth of what there is to know about it. Come along to the tide pools, and you will see for yourself."

They trod along the beach toward the immense, jagged archway, and Picard tried to reconcile colors that seemed in the wrong places: a black beach and forest, a copper-red sea, and a sickly green sky. The only healthy green was at the very tops of the trees, and the trees seemed to be slinking back from the ocean, as if they knew its waters were deadly. It was peculiar to see the lazy red waves was.h.i.+ng ash.o.r.e to deposit clumps of mysterious sea life that oozed into the black pebbles as quickly as they could. Picard glanced at the white patch on his boot, now bleached bone white.

They stepped under an ebony archway that had been carved by waves from solid black rock that must have been the same material as the beach. Even now it crumbled away over their heads, a victim of the higher splashes of acidic sea foam, and Picard dashed under it. He saw Ro and the Calverts gathered around a few shallow pools that had been carved from a solid shelf of ebony rock. With a stick Myra was poking at the sea foam that had been trapped there when the tide rushed out.

The foam contracted into a floating lump when she put the stick near it. If she actually touched the substance with the stick it struck back, splas.h.i.+ng and oozing and melting away bark.

"It's got to be animal," she said to Doctor Drayton. "Plants don't act like that."

"Ever seen a Venus flytrap?" scoffed Drayton. "There are many plants that recoil and react to stimuli."

"It's more like sea anemone," countered Myra. "And that's cla.s.sified as an animal. If it's intelligent in this small amount, what's it like when a big glob of it gets together?"

"Depends," answered Drayton.

While they argued the point Picard glanced at the other members of the party. Gregg Calvert was alert, surveying the jungle, his hand close to his holster. He didn't seem to be enjoying the outing at all, but he was doing it for his daughter. Ro was wide-eyed, taking in the unique flora and fauna. She did not seem herself, thought Picard, but she didn't appear ill. He decided it was time to fill her in on all that had transpired.

Picard ambled to Ro's side and remarked, "This black rock is volcanic, isn't it?"

"Yes," she answered. "Raw molten lava from the belly of this planet. Isn't it magnificent?"

"Very lovely." Picard frowned and lowered his voice. "Ensign, while you were sleeping off your unfortunate insect bite Commander Data witnessed something very odd. Balak, the leader of the Klingons, went to see a G.o.ddess in the woods, and he had s.e.x with her."

That got Ro's full attention, and she blinked at the captain. "Are you speaking in the metaphysical sense?" she asked.

"Not at all," replied Picard. "This was a real woman in every sense, but she was pa.s.sing herself off as a G.o.ddess in order to influence these young Klingons. You must be on the lookout for this woman -she could be one of the colonists."

Instinctively Ro looked away from the captain's hawklike features and peered at Doctor Drayton. The doctor was peering back, an enigmatic smile on her face.