Dark Matters_ Ghost Dance (Book 2) - Christie Golden [42]
He kept reading: The two aliens have been released from their Ordeal. The larger of the two, named Chakotay, is recovering well. The slighter, called Tom Paris, fares ill. We do not think his life is
in danger; however, recovery from the Minister's domicile will be more difficult. We will keep you posted as to new developments.
Then, nastily, the Implementer had written, Hot enough for you?
Ezbai resisted the temptation to hurl the commdev into the brush. Instead, he tried to dry it off-futilely-and reattached it to his skin.
His crew were taking advantage of the halt in hiking to drink water and eat some food. "Finish what you've got in your mouths and put the rest away," he told them. "Course change. We're to go to the sacred mountain, two point eight seven mark eight A recovery will await us there."
A chorus of groans and protests arose, competing with the hum of insects. Someone suggested what the Culilann could do with their sacred mountain, and in his heart, Ezbai agreed.
"Primitives," snarled loni, his second-in-command, as she hoisted her pack. "Dirty, stinking, feebleminded primitives."
It crossed Ezbai's mind that at the present moment he was dirty, he probably stank, and he had certainly been feebleminded to volunteer to head this mission, so he said nothing. Grimly, the recovery team reversed course to heading two point eight seven mark eight
The days had passed uncomfortably since Yurula had taken Winnif's baby to the sacred mountain. The warmth Chakotay had felt toward these people, die admiration for the way they clung to their traditions
and their faiths, was now offset by the brutality of some of those traditions.
He was alone in the Minister's hut, helping to prepare the midday meal by chopping some long, sweet-smelling roots, when he heard Tom's voice.
"Hey," said Paris weakly.
Chakotay whirled. 'Tom," he said, not bothering to keep the warm rush of pleasure out of his tone. He knelt beside Paris's pallet. "Welcome back."
"Not sure I want to be back," said Paris. "I feel like hell."
"You've pretty much been there for a while," Chakotay agreed. "What do you remember?"
Tom's brow, shiny with the healthy sweat that meant his fever had broken, furrowed. "Not a lot," he confessed. '1 remember the cavern, and you jumping through some kind of portal." His pale lips curved into a smile. "There was this girl. She was pretty stuck-up, but boy "was she gorgeous." The smile faded. "And rain. I remember rain, and mud. And that's about it."
Briefly, Chakotay filled him in. Tom remembered nothing of Soliss or Yurula. He had slept through the Sacrifice, and when Chakotay told him of it in sad tones, he shocked Chakotay with his response.
"How do you know they're not doing the right thing?"
Chakotay stared. 'Tom, they're taking a helpless infant and leaving it on the side of a mountain."
"No, no, I mean how do you know that the Grafters aren't real?"
Chakotay laughed, a harsh, disbelieving bark. "That fever must have hit you pretty bad. I'm usu-
ally the one making the case for the divine. You're one of those I'11-believe-it-when-I-see-it types."
"Well, they're certainly not gods, but how do we know that they aren't aliens who appear to be gods to this culture? You said that Soliss said the babies are always taken."
"He minks they're taken by predators, not the Grafters," said Chakotay.
"But others don't. All I'm saying is, don't jump to conclusions. For all we know, some aliens may be watching the Cu-Cully-"
"Culilann," supplied Chakotay.
"-Culilann and sending someone down from a ship to rescue the kids."
Chakotay regarded him sadly. "That's a nice world you live in, Tom. Maybe you shouldn't rejoin our reality just yet." He rose. "Can you get up? You've been lying down on the job for too long."
Paris flashed him the faintest