• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 635 0

be by to pick you up and escort you back to your quarters when you're done here," said Ezbai, not meeting Chakotay's eyes. He hastened off. Chakotay realized that their conversation had upset the young Interceptor. He regretted the necessity that had driven him to it, but was not sorry he had pushed Ezbai to really look hard at his culture. Everyone needed to do that from time to time.

"Sector?" said the doctor in a flat, bored voice. He picked up a padd and began to peruse it. He hadn't even introduced himself.

"I'm not sure," said Chakotay. "I was Recovered from the village of Sumar-ka, if that helps."

"It doesn't," replied the doctor, sounding as if he wished he were anywhere but here. "Ah, here it is. All right Male, species called human, no known illnesses, recovering from that barbaric Ordeal they always put aliens through. We're going to do a full examination on you, standard procedure." He shot Chakotay a look. "You haven't had anything to eat or drink since retiring last night, have you?" The question was almost an accusation.

"Not a thing," Chakotay replied. He was itching to get out of here. He wondered how anyone who was actually ill recovered in a place like this.

"Good." Without wasting breath on further conversation, the doctor and a bevy of assistants began poking and prodding Chakotay. They ran instruments over him which hummed, whistled, and beeped, took samples, and rushed through the examination with efficiency and detachment Chakotay was hard-pressed to recall a time when he felt less like a living, sentient being. Once or twice he tried to make conversation, but it was answered so brusquely that he gave it up as a bad idea.

Then, all at once, the doctor stopped dead in his tracks. His blue eyes widened and he leaned against the chair for support. "This can't be," he breathed. "It just can't!"

"What-"

But before Chakotay could even finish the question the doctor had rushed off. Chakotay sat up on the biobed, startled by the outburst and a lack of explanation. Though he was in a huge room with dozens of people, no one responded when he asked for assistance. So he sat, and waited, and wondered what the unnamed doctor had found.

Probably the dark matter, he thought They wouldn't know what it was, and he supposed it had been foolish of him to think the Implementer had already gotten around to informing his people of the problem. Though it would have saved them time and effort if he had. This was a society that was drowning in its bureaucracy, and Chakotay wondered if his request to search for Voyager would even be acknowledged unless it was submitted in triplicate, with the proper footnotes and addressed to just the right people.

Something stirred beneath the bed. Frowning, Chakotay bent over and peered beneath the metal frame.

Crouched underneath, his tail wagging and his pink tongue lolling, was Coyote.

Chakotay gasped and sat back up. He closed his eyes, calmed himself, and again looked under the bed. Nothing. He realized he was shaking. Something must be going wrong if he was starting to see Coyote with his waking eyes.

Finally the doctor returned. With him, their gazes impersonal and yet intimidating, were three guards. "I have just spoken with the Implementer," said the doctor. "He insists on seeing you immediately."

"If you'll just tell me what's going on, perhaps I can help you with your diagnosis."

But the doctor was not interested, and was already moving on to another bed, another body to treat as if it were devoid of personality.

"Please come with us," said one of the guards in the same flat voice the doctor had first used. Chakotay sighed and surrendered to the irritating absurdity of the situation. A situation that clearly delighted Coyote.

He found himself hi the same room he had visited last night, but now the Implementer and Ezbai were the only ones present. The Implementer's face was unreadable as he gestured for Chakotay to have a seat With a wave of a hand, he dismissed the guards.

"We have to stop