Day of Honor - Michael Jan Friedman [5]
Erva shook her head. "No, it doesn't. I'm too scared, B'Elanna, too scared even to move.
B'Elanna glanced into the pit, where the tongues of crimson flame seemed to be lengthening each time they shot up. "If you don't move," she explained, "you'll die here, Erva."
"Then I'll die!" the Yrommian screamed.
"And I'll die with you!" B'Elanna shouted back. "Because I'm not leaving you here. Either we both go back or neither of us does."
She didn't know what made her say that. She sure hadn't had that in mind when she set out to rescue Erva. But as soon as the words came out, she was glad they had-because they made a change in her friend.
It was one thing for Erva to sacrifice her own life because she was afraid. But to sacrifice B'Elanna's life as well-that was something else again.
The muscles worked in the Yrommian's little jaw. A light showed in her eyes. "All right," she said. "We'll do it."
B'Elanna nodded. "Together."
And they did.
They made their way back along the entire ledge, Erva's hand clasping B'Elanna's in a white-knuckled grip. They didn't slip, either. They didn't even come close to slipping. The two of them just took their time and managed to ignore the fire raging in the pit in front of them.
When they reached the other side, they fell to their knees, thankful and relieved that they had made it. As they pulled themselves up again to make their way out of the cavern, B'Elanna took a last look back. Then Erva slipped through the crack in the wall and her friend wriggled after her.
It was just in time, too. Because a moment later, the
crimson geyser of energy erupted again-this time, with an intensity B'Elanna hadn't imagined possible. Even from the next cavern, she could see its brilliance and feel the heat of it blistering her skin.
If she and Erva had remained in the chute-cavern any longer, they would have been burned to cinders. But they had escaped.
"Wow!" said Dougie. "That was something!"
Erva nodded. "Something," she echoed.
B'Elanna smiled wearily. Her friend was safe and sound, and so was she. No one had gotten hurt.
And as a bonus, she had a tale of bravery to tell her parents.
B'Elanna's mother stood beside her bed, in the bedroom she and her husband shared, and considered the jewel-encrusted object in her hand. It was a jinaq amulet, worn by Klingon maidens from the day they came of age-a signal that they were ripe for conquest.
She hadn't worn it since her wedding day, when she had vowed to honor and cherish her human husband. Those vows seemed hollow now, the words of a fool. But no matter what happened, she wouldn't wear the amulet again.
She was no maiden, after all. And she never intended to leave herself open again for conquest.
Suddenly, she heard the front door swing open. Her first thought was that her husband had come back. Then she realized it was her daughter, and she steeled herself for what was ahead.
B'Elanna's voice was shrill with enthusiasm as she
called from the next room. "Mama? Daddy? You'll never guess what happened!"
"In here," said her mother, her throat as dry as the ground outside the colony buildings.
A moment later, the girl burst into the room, her face flushed beneath a layer of rock dust. "Mama," B'Elanna cried, "you're not going to believe it! I saved Erva's life! She and Dougie were exploring the caverns out north by the mines and they found a firechute!
Then Erva got stuck in the cavern with the chute and-"
It was then that her daughter seemed to realize something was wrong. B'Elanna met her mother's gaze and seemed to see the anger that the woman held clenched within her. The anger-and the shame.
"Mama?" she said tentatively. "Is something wrong?"
Her mother didn't answer. She had called her husband a coward not so long ago, but now she discovered the same cowardice in herself.
B'Elanna came over and embraced her. "There is something the matter, isn't there? Tell me, Mama. What is it?"
Her mother looked past her, nostrils flaring. She was a Klingon.