Double Helix 03_ Red Sector - Diane Carey [27]
“We’ll just wait,” he gasped. “Somebody’ll come to rescue us. They’ll come for us… they’ll get here.”
“Ensign Stiles,” Zevon attempted slowly, “we are prisoners. There’s been a Constrictor, a bad one. The Pojjana will be cleaning up for months. They’ll be digging the survivors and bodies out for at least two weeks. Two of your weeks, I should specify. While we may live that long, certainly you can’t hold that rod against me for so long. Is there a point in holding it BOW?”
‘`There is,” Stiles forced through a tight throat. “You’re a Romulan. I’m Starfleet. I don’t have to believe a thing you say. Maybe this wasn’t an earthquake at all. Maybe you bombed the building, you or your people. The Pojjans could dig us out in an hour.”
“And so a standoff begins?” Zevon folded his arms, shook his head, and offered a parental gaze. “You make yourself suffer for nothing. I am no soldier.”
“I know what you are.” His hand and arm shuddering under the weight of the metal bar, Stiles drew his legs up under him and tried to maneuver to a better position. The effort exhausted him, made his head spin. A dark tunnel formed on either side of his vision and he realized he was passing out. With a single heave he rearranged himself. Fighting a sudden clutching muscle spasm in his back, he twisted sideways and managed to shift until he could lean back against the tilted mattress on the bunk he had never yet slept upon.
Sleep… sounded so nice fight now… deliberately he drew long, steady breathes until his head cleared and the tunnel-vision faded back. “We’ll starve in here, like this.”
Zevon nodded. Had he just said something like that? Stiles thought the conversation sounded familiar.
“I hear water” the Romulan said. “If we have water, we can survive.”
“Yeah? How long’s a week on your planet?” Stiles blinked to focus his eyes. He saw his bandaged left arm shiver as it held the metal rod toward Zevon. One arm bandaged, the other broken and splinted.
Tightening his folded arms, Zevon leaned back against the cracked wail behind him. “I’m counting in your weeks. I know how humans think.”
Stiles raised his head from where he had allowed it to rest back on the upright mattress. “Oh? And how is that? Just how do we think? Since you know us so well, you who’ve never met one of us before, how do humans all think? For your information, soldier, humans are the least like each other of all the races around. That’s what my grandfather told me, and he got it from nobody less than Captain James Kirk himself. So you just tell me again how all humans think.” “I meant no insult.” “Stay away from me.”
Zevon held up a peaceable hand and nodded. “You must pull the blanket back over yourself. You’ll go into shock again if you fail to stay warm.”
‘I’ll take care of myself, thanks.” Trying to appear in control, Stiles held the rod higher between himself and the Romulan, doing has best to convey an ongoing threat. “Spock expects me to act fight… get along here and… be an officer. I won’t let him down. Somehow he’ll know how I did. I’ve got to make him proud. ..”
Tilting his head, Zevon asked, “The ambassador? Is that who you were evacuating?” “Sure was. Did it, too. He’s out and you can’t have him.”
“We don’t want him, ensign. Please try to relax and put that “
“Don’t you tell me to relax! Don’t you say that word to me! That isn’t your word.”
“Very well… I’ll find another word… with whom did you have a date tomorrow night?”
“Huh?” Stiles narrowed his eyes. Was this man telepathic? “How’d you know… her name’s Ninetta. Ninetta Rashayd. She works down in atmospheric control at the starbase. Y’know, the base life support. Air. Took me two weeks to pronounce her name right so she wouldn’t give me that look when I asked her out. Not that it matters much now….” “What kind of look?”
“Well… that look. The one that tells you to keep your mouth shut and don’t even ask.” His quivering left arm sagged a little, the rod now