by Greg Cox
“Very well,” the captain agreed. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, though. As far as we know, Naxor is the only Ryol who has attempted to harm any of our people and he appears to be an aberration. Indeed, the Elder appears to have gone to . . . drastic . . . lengths to ensure that Naxor will no longer pose any threat to us.” She paused, remembering Varathael’s desperate lunge at her when she attempted to beam away. Could she be sure that the Elder meant her no harm? She kept remembering the sadistic glee on his face as he tortured Naxor. What else might the venerable Elder be capable of?
“Cancel all future shore leave,” she decided. “Let’s not send any more of the crew down to the planet. Start quietly recalling our people to the ship. Make it look like their vacation time has expired, not like an emergency pull-out. Got it?”
“Understood,” Chakotay said. “The next duty shift begins in a few hours. Several crew members were due back anyway.”
“Perfect,” Janeway said. “With any luck, we’ll get all our people back on board before the Ryol catch on to our suspicions.”
“I don’t get it,” Paris said. “What kind of creatures are they anyway? What do they really want from us?”
“I may be able to provide some answers shortly,” Tuvok stated. “With The Doctor’s assistance.” He addressed the small computer monitor mounted in the center of the table. The Doctor’s saturnine features appeared on the screen. “Excuse me, Doctor,” Tuvok said. “Have you completed your analysis of the sample I provided?”
Sample? Janeway wondered what Tuvok was referring to.
“Not yet,” the holograph replied. “As you may or may not recall, I have several other duties to occupy my time, not the least of which is monitoring the recovery of Ensigns Kim and Tukwila.”
“Of course,” Janeway said diplomatically. “How are your patients, Doctor?”
The Doctor’s image stepped aside, revealing the unconscious bodies of Tukwila and Kim resting beneath silvery sheets on adjacent biobeds. “Oh, they’ll live, no thanks to whatever debilitating alien force you’ve run afoul of this time. Their bioelectric fields were down fifteen percent from the recommended human level, while their metabolism and general blood chemistry showed signs of advanced energy depletion. My replicators are working overtime to manufacture all the vitamin supplements they’re going to need for the next few weeks. And don’t get me started about the cellular strain. . . .”
“We appreciate your efforts, Doctor,” Janeway said. She looked at Tuvok. “You said something about a sample?”
The Vulcan nodded. “After subduing Naxor, I took the liberty of extracting a sample of his DNA.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Chakotay asked.
“Previous attempts to gain biological information about the Ryol had been met with polite but persistent evasion. My experience has always been that the harder secrets are to obtain, the more significant they usually are. When Mr. Paris had his altercation with Naxor, the opportunity to uncover these secrets presented itself.”
“I’m just glad you showed up when you did,” Paris said. “I still don’t understand, though. What were you doing on the beach in the first place?”
Good question, Janeway thought. She wouldn’t mind hearing the answer to that one herself.
“Kes had previously called my attention to the shore,” Tuvok began, then explained about the disturbing psychic echoes that Kes had sensed emanating from the harbor. “I was walking the perimeter of the beach in an attempt to confirm her experiences when I came to the assistance of Lieutenant Paris and the others.”
“And did you sense anything?” Janeway asked, leaning toward Tuvok. “Before you ran into Naxor and Mr. Paris?”
“No,” he declared, “which simply means that the data is inconclusive. As I explained to Kes, Vulcan and Ocampa telepathy differ in qualitative ways. It is entirely possible that she could be sensitive to psychic phenomena that would not be detectable by me.”
Janeway shared a meaningful look with her first officer, who nodded grimly. First Chakotay and now Kes, she thought. Too many of her people were picking up bad vibes from Ryolanov; perhaps it was not at all the welcoming oasis it had originally appeared to be. “What do you think?” she asked Tuvok. “Did Kes really sense something down there.”
Tuvok paused before answering. “Despite her relative youth and inexperience,” he said finally, “I have not known Kes to be the victim of an uncontrolled imagination. If she insists that there is a frightening psychic presence beyond the shore, then there must be more to that beach than meets the eye.”
“The beach?!” The Doctor exclaimed. Upon the screen, his usual sour expression gave way to a look of concern.
“What is it, Doctor?” Janeway asked. “What’s the matter?”
“The beach,” he said. “That’s where Kes and Lieutenant Torres said they were going, right before Mr. Tuvok had Kim and Tukwila beamed to the sickbay. They’re at the beach right now!”
CHAPTER
11
AFTER DARK, A COOL WIND BLEW OFF THE HARBOR, chilling Kes. Shivering, she hugged herself tightly and wished that she had thought to bring a jacket on this nocturnal expedition. Her usual shipboard attire provided little protection against the breeze, which seemed several degrees colder than it had been the first time she visited the beach at night.
“Here, darling,” Neelix whispered. “Wear this.” He slipped out of his motley jacket, revealing an even more garish tunic underneath, transferred his commbadge from his suit to his shirt, and draped his jacket over Kes’s trembling shoulders. The Ocampa took the garment gratefully, although she suspected that the chill she was experiencing was as much psychological as physiological. She was not looking forward to hearing those excruciating telepathic screams again.
“Sssh!” B’Elanna Torres gave Neelix a withering look. “We’re not supposed to be here, remember?”
The unlikely trio crept through the dense underbrush at the top of the beach, trying to keep their distance from the lamps posted along the path. Green and purple tendrils, looking almost black in the dim light, brushed against Kes’s face as she crawled among the swaying fronds. The heavy fragrance of the blossoms overpowered the ginger scent of the Ryol sea. Occasionally she felt small insects run across the backs of her hands and prayed that the bushes did not conceal any snakes or lizards as well.
Neelix took the lead, creeping ahead of Torres and Kes. “You know,” he began, “this sort of reminds me of the time I evaded an entire squadron of Tzuni guerrillas by escaping through the famous Floating Gardens of—ouch!”
Kes watched as Torres grabbed on to Neelix’s ankle and squeezed. “I said, be quiet!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I still don’t see why you had to come along on this mission.”
Neelix lowered his voice—slightly. “Surely you didn’t expect me to let my dear Kes face the unknown alone? Besides, you couldn’t find a stealthier ally aboard Voyager. It is a well-known fact that Talaxians have excellent night vision, plus the silent tread of a vustoorsyl on the prowl.” Kes heard Torres grinding her teeth together only a few centimeters away.
She looked at Kes. “What do you see in him?” asked the exasperated engineer. “I have never understood that.”
Kes wondered how she could explain their bond in a way that B’Elanna could comprehend. “It’s his independence,” she said softly. “He’s traveled among the stars, surviving by his wits alone, making his way on a hundred different worlds. You have no idea how appealing that is to me. Where I come from, where I spent most of my life, we knew nothing of the universe beyond our underground city. Our lives were safe, sheltered, sequestered. The Caretaker tended to all our needs, until we didn’t know how to exist without Him. Neelix is the complete opposite of that cloistered life I ran away from. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be.”
“Oh,” Torres said weakly. She seemed taken aback by the passionate intensity of Kes’s avowal. She peered through the tangles of vines and tendrils at Ne
elix’s creeping form, as if seeing the familiar Talaxian for the first time. “Well,” Torres admitted eventually, “I didn’t care much for your hometown, either.” Kes recalled that B’Elanna had nearly died when the Caretaker infected her with His own alien DNA. “Compared to that place, I can see where life with Neelix might not seem so bad.”
There is more to us than that, Kes thought. Far more than you may ever understand. She wondered briefly if B’Elanna had ever loved anyone as much as she loved Neelix. Did Klingons love? She would have to ask The Doctor someday. There had to be plenty of information about Klingons in Voyager’s medical files.
Footsteps slapped against the nearby walkway. Kes froze, as did her two companions. Would the lush foliage be enough to conceal them? She wanted to lower herself even deeper into the scrub, but she was afraid to move. She held her breath, hoping that the footsteps would walk on uninterrupted. Please, she thought, keep on going. Don’t see us!
The footsteps stopped. “Hello?” Came a deep voice with an unmistakably Ryol accent. “Is anybody there?”
Caught! Kes’s spirits sank. As a child, she had played many games of hide-and-seek amid the numerous nooks and crannies of the Ocampa’s subterranean habitat, but never before had she wished so fervently for the ability to turn invisible. Maybe, she thought, if we all stay very, very still. . . .
Leaves rustled faintly ahead of her as B’Elanna Torres began to creep toward the path, stalking forward like some nocturnal predator on the prowl. Alarmed, Kes could do nothing but watch as her half-Klingon colleague risked exposure. What is she up to? Kes wondered. Is she out of her mind?
A beam of incandescent light began to sweep over the underbrush. Kes remembered the light-projecting crystal the lifeguard had employed the last time she and Neelix had attempted to visit the shore at night. There was no way they could hide from that penetrating illumination; it was only a matter of moments before they were all uncovered. Whatever dubious plan Torres had embarked upon, she could not possibly carry through with her strategy—unless the guard could be distracted.
“Here I am!” Kes blurted, standing up suddenly amid the waving green and purple fronds. The foliage came to just below her hips. She turned to face the oncoming beam. Beyond the blinding glare of the spotlight, she glimpsed the silhouette of a Ryol lifeguard. Was he carrying a weapon? Kes could not tell, but she doubted it. It dawned on her that she had never seen any evidence of weaponry on any of her excursions to Ryolanov. Could the Ryol truly be so peaceful? she marveled. It’s possible, I suppose.
Then why was her heart pounding like a frightened animal’s? Neither she nor Neelix had thought to carry a phaser. She wasn’t so sure about B’Elanna, although she’d noticed earlier that the engineer had brought along a tricorder.
“Who’s there?” the guard demanded. His tone was colder than she had come to expect from the Ryol. “Identify yourself.”
“My name is Kes,” she said. “I’m from the starship. Voyager. Perhaps we’ve met before?” Where is B’Elanna? she thought desperately. What is she doing? “I’m with Captain Janeway’s crew.”
“Are you alone?” the guard asked. The beam of light slid away from her, shifting its focus to the surrounding underbrush, exposing the empty spaces between the branches and vines. The light fell on the very spot that Torres had vacated mere seconds before. Panic gripped Kes; she knew that Torres—and Neelix—could not be very far away.
“Yes!” she insisted, taking a step toward the guard with her least-threatening smile frozen upon her face. She raised her arms slowly above her head and tried to look sheepish and embarrassed. Anything to divert his attention from the foliage.
“Don’t move,” the guard barked. His beam continued to search the bushes and living coral. We’re sunk, Kes thought. She tried to convince herself that the lifeguard didn’t really mean them any harm. What’s the worst the Ryol can do to us? Turn us over to the captain for a stern reprimand? Although a reasonable assumption, the prediction did not reassure her. There was more at stake than some temporary embarrassment. The voices had convinced her of that.
Branches snapped and tendrils shook as Neelix noisily climbed onto his feet. “No need to trouble yourself, my good man,” he called out to the guard. “You’ve found me.” He looked over at Kes. “Thanks for trying to cover for me, sweetie, but there’s obviously no point in hiding any longer. Our friend here is too shrewd for that.”
“Stay where you are,” the guard said, inspecting Neelix by the light of his crystal. With the glare out of her eyes, Kes got a better look at the man. He might have been the same lifeguard that had halted them before, but she wasn’t sure; the Ryol were practically uniform in their physical attractiveness. At the very least, this guard was equally tall and imposing. The Ryol male wore an armless silken robe over his skimpy beach attire: a concession, Kes assumed, to the breezy evening. Sandals protected his feet from the cooling sand. A scowl marred his otherwise handsome features. “The beach is closed,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you that we were looking for a lost dilithium crystal?” Neelix suggested. “No, I didn’t think so. What if I told you it was of great sentimental value?”
The guard looked skeptical—and none too amused. If this is the same man as before, Kes thought, then he might well assume that Neelix and I are here on our own, as we were last time. B’Elanna could still have a chance to escape.
“Don’t blame Neelix,” she said quickly. “This is all my fault. I begged him to bring me here. It seemed like such a beautiful night for a midnight swim. I couldn’t resist.”
“The tides are dangerous,” the guard said. His spotlight bounced back and forth between Neelix and Kes. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” Kes said. “I’m sorry. We’ll leave now.” And try again the first chance we get, she thought.
She slowly lowered her arms as the guard appeared to mull over her words. For a few hopeful moments, she thought they might actually be able to talk their way out of this unwanted encounter. Then the guard shook his head grimly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me,” he said.
To where? Kes wondered. Visions of prison—and worse—flashed through her mind. She remembered the unrelieved torment in the cries of the bodiless voices. She suddenly wondered if she would ever see Voyager again.
The rational part of her brain kept telling her that she was overreacting, that the peaceful and hospitable Ryol would hardly execute someone for trespassing on a beach, but another part of her, something deeper, perhaps, and more primal, was shouting out a frantic warning in a voice impossible to ignore or disregard. For the first time, she found herself assessing the muscular lifeguard as a potential foe, and wondering if she and Neelix together were enough to overpower him. And won’t I have a hard time, she thought, explaining that to the captain!
The Ryol seemed to read her mind. “Come over here,” he said. “Slowly. You, too,” he added to Neelix.
She exchanged an uncertain glance with her companion. What do we do now? Her hand hovered above her commbadge as she considered calling Voyager for an immediate beam-out. If necessary, she decided, but maybe they could still talk their way out of this situation. Neelix was good at that. Brushing aside the coral and anemone plants surrounding her, she began to tread hesitantly toward the walkway. Neelix moved to intercept her as the guard looked on, peering at them with his milky green eyes.
Those eyes widened suddenly as he went falling backward, his legs yanked out from beneath him. B’Elanna Torres pounced out of the shrubs directly in front of the Ryol, growling in fierce triumph even before the man’s head connected with the pavement. Kes heard his skull bang against the fused black sand and winced in sympathy. Torres leaped astride the fallen Ryol, her clenched fists poised to strike, but the guard did not rise. He lay where he fell, sprawled atop the path. Despite her natural empathy, Kes felt a surge of relief.
“B’Elanna!” she exclaimed a
nyway. “What have you done?”
“Me?” Torres replied, stepping away from the supine figure. “I didn’t do anything. He slipped on the sand.” Turning her back on the guard, she strode toward the beach, a phaser tucked neatly into her belt. “Well?” she asked, looking back at Kes and Neelix. “Are you coming or not?”
I guess so, Kes thought. She changed course and headed after Torres, away from the lighted walkway. “Neelix?” she called.
“Just a minute, honey,” he said. Hurrying onto the walk, he bent over the unconscious guard and extracted something from the man’s fingers. Kes was confused by his actions until she saw the white radiance emanating from Neelix’s grip. Of course, she thought, the light crystal. “I thought it might come in handy,” he said.
With the aid of the crystal, they easily caught up with Torres, who, tricorder in hand, continued to advance toward the shore. Leaving the path and its bordering foliage behind, the trio trudged across the sandy beach in search of the land’s end. Their footing was uneven; Kes stumbled more than once over tiny dunes of rounded pellets. “Here, sweetie,” Neelix said, taking her arm. “Let me help.”
The farther they went, the more they depended on the beam of light scouting the terrain before them. The night was dark and silent. As her heartbeat gradually slowed to normal, Kes could barely hear the waves lapping against the shore. They sounded very far away.
So did the screams. She could sense them again, wailing at the periphery of her awareness, but she did her best to keep them at bay. She had heard these same cries before; there was nothing more they could teach her. This time she had to go beyond the screams, to find the unknown horror at the heart of their pain and fear.
Keep on going, she told herself. She hung on to Neelix’s arm as if it was anchoring her to reality. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Shouldn’t we have reached the water by now? I don’t remember it being so far from the path.”
