Double Helix 03_ Red Sector - Diane Carey [109]
In a shaft of light from a drain hole, Spock’s black eyes flickered smartly. “No. I trusted you to fake it.”
The ambassador offered that canny look for several seconds without even taking a step. Apparently he wanted a point made.
Overwhelmed, Stiles hovered in the middle of a step. Only a brainless drizzle of water somewhere in the underground system drew him out of his amazement and reminded him of what had to be done, and done soon.
“Said Frankenstein to the monster,” he cracked. “Bear left and you’ll get out. Once you get outside, keep to the low trail. They’ll be looking high first, the way to the mountains. We’ll rendezvous east northeast at the lake.”
Spock reached out to grasp a root, ready to pull himself forward. “Aye aye, captain.”
Flushed with delight and newly emboldened, Stiles looked up and laughed. “Thanks!”
Beverly Crusher took her latest series of biological readings on the shuddering body of the Romulan empress, and compared them with the readings from one hour ago. In the room, only the snap of the fireplace and the bleep of Data’s computer, as he processed more information and sent what they had discovered onward to the other physicians across the empire, could be heard. There was not that much more that could be done.
For days now she had kept the empress and dozens of others alive by treating the symptoms. Over the past day, success had noticeably shrunk.
Crasher sat back, exhausted, and pressed her hands to the sides of her head. As she squeezed, her eyes throbbed and her thoughts bundled up into a lump. When she put her hands down, they were holding the only thought left that made sense.
She turned on her chair and sighed. Data noticed the movement and looked around at her. Over on the couch, still battered and bloody from the earlier encounter, Sentinel Iavo sat alone with his own guilts and troubles. He’d hardly moved all day.
“Time for drastic measures” Crusher told him. “She’s not making it. She’s slipping away. I can’t hold on to her life much longer. Are you ready to do what I ask?”
A destroyed man, Iavo’s face had paled and his eyes were sunken with weariness. “Anything.”
Satisfied, Crusher stood up and strode to him. “This is what I want. You’re going to get me a fast ship with an escort battalion. I don’t want any trouble at the border. I’m taking the empress into space to hook up with Dr. McCoy and a treatment serum.” “There is no such serum,” Iavo protested. “Is there?” “There may be. If she is to have any chance, we have to go.” “Go where? Who has this serum?”
“I’ll give you the course once we’re spaceborne. I don’t want to take any more chances than that. Once again, Sentinel, you have a choice to make. Who’s side are you going to be on for the next few hours?”
Iavo stood up, wavered briefly, and clearly noted that Data also came to his feet behind Crusher.
“Your wisdom and silence have given me a new life,” Iavo confirmed. “I will help you save hers. Tell me where you wish to go.”
The air seemed a bit too cool in the lab office today. Zevon had thought about turning the heat up several times, but had regularly been distracted by suggestions pouring in from the students at Regional Spectroscopy. He had been reading them all day, between adjustments. The deflectors required almost daily adjustments now. Each adjustment worried him a faction more. The network of deflection stations operated fairly well, though only fairly. He had able technicians working the grid, but not skilled scientists. Several more years would go by before anyone on this planet was skilled enough in quantum physics and space science to replace Zevon’s own advanced abilities. He was in a race now, a slow and deliberate race to the next Constrictor.
Some of these students had promise. There were occasional glimmers of hope beyond the daily push and grind. If be had more freedom to move about on the planet-An old argument. Orsova’s reins were tight upon Zevon. Their