Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [75]
“There isn’t much time,” said Kes, her voice sounding as if it was coming from somewhere very far away, “the caverns are unstable. The mnemosia’s energy is disturbing the crust. That’s why they left, Neelix. That’s why Nyma is silent…”
The Talaxian shook of the fog of memory from his mind. “Kes, we have to try and find shelter.”
“Yes, you must,” she said. Her hand seemed ghostly now where it touched the stone pillar, like the phantom Ocampa. “This tremor will be the worst yet.”
His blood ran cold at the tone in her voice. “You’re not coming with me.” It was a statement, not a question.
Kes turned her face to his and kissed him. Her lips brushed his and it was like a shadow falling from his soul. It was all the answer she would give him.
“Goodbye, Kes.” The words left him of their own accord, escaping from his mouth, fading, gone. They took with them the heartache, the void inside his heart that had threatened never to heal; in their place they left a bittersweet glow, something evanescent and flawless.
“Let me go, Neelix,” she whispered, “and don’t look back. You’re going to find someone to share your life with someday… Sooner than you think.”
A cracking snarl from breaking rocks snatched Neelix’s attention away from the stone column for a fraction of a second, and when he turned back she was gone. With the ground moaning beneath his feet, the Talaxian sprinted out of the atrium and ran for the tunnels.
Seven slapped her communicator again, calling out to Voyager in what she knew would be a futile effort. Part of her was angry at herself for succumbing to something so human as panic, trying in vain to reach the starship even though she knew the veracite interference would not have suddenly ceased just because Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One, was facing imminent decease. She coughed out a mouthful of dust from the churn of powder in the tunnel, her mind filling with a sudden, unbidden storm of regrets and troubles. The utter unfairness of it all struck her like a slap in the face. All the things she would never have considered as a member of the collective, that she would never again try a new food in the mess hall or listen to the Doctor sing, all these petty little human thoughts swirled about her. She struggled and failed to get to her feet, her deadened legs denying her even the chance to meet her end standing up. Seven’s eyes prickled with hurt and frustration; she felt an odd kind of amazement that she might actually begin to weep. Such a human thing to do, she thought.
“Seven!” Neelix’s shout preceded the sounds of his crashing, stumbling run and the Talaxian hove into view, coated in rock dust, choking down gulps of thick air. “Seven! Are you all right?”
“No,” She hardly recognized the voice as her own. It seemed so feeble. “I… do not want to die here.”
He knelt at her side, taking her hand. “Neither do I.”
“What happened to your… to Kes?”
“She’s gone,” Neelix replied, an eternity of weariness in his words. “Just us now.” He managed a smile, and through that simple gesture Seven saw warmth and friendship that was as welcome as it was unexpected.
Her voice threatened to break as she spoke. “I do not want to be alone again.”
The Talaxian smiled, his snaggle teeth baring in a real, honest grin. “Me neither.”
The quake released its fury on the cavern and the tunnel shifted, throwing them about like dice in a cup. Neelix struck a rock and felt his vision darken. There was a moment of brightness, a tingling golden glow; then nothing.
“Gently,” said the voice. “Gently now. Try not to move too quickly.”
It was difficult for him to blink, but after a few attempts Neelix managed to open his eyes and keep them that way. His vision swam; large black blobs against a pale background wavered and floated before him, resolving by moments into people-shapes.
“Captain?” He connected the name with the voice and Janeway’s face was there at his side.
She gave him an easy grin. “How