Marooned - Christie Golden [36]
One by one, the crew of the shuttlecraft was escorted away from their vessel by their strange new acquaintances. The air was more wholesome once they were away from the venting plasma, and Janeway forced herself to breathe deeply. The lack of normal oxygen was telling on her, and she realized she had to make her lungs work hard and get used to the thinness of the atmosphere. She'd been skiing in Colorado, and remembered the sensation of lungs used to rich Indiana air laboring as she stood at the top of the high, snowy slope for the first time.
The gentle behavior of the great behemoths who walked with them reassured her, and any last traces of fear and suspicion were wiped away when, at one point, she stumbled. Quickly, the leader was there to catch her. It grunted, seeming to see the wound on her head for the first time, and reached a paw up to touch it. When Janeway hissed between clenched teeth at the pain, it removed its hand at once. It made a soft, sympathetic sound and rubbed her back in a circular motion with its hand instead, like an adult soothing an infant.
Janeway smiled at it, remembering at the last minute not to show her teeth in the gesture. The baring of teeth, even in a smile, might be taken as a threat. The Mishkaran leader seemed to take no offense. It lifted its head and said something to its fellows, and Janeway noticed that those Mishkarans escorting the Voyager crewmembers slowed their paces and looked with renewed interest at the various wounds.
There was little light, even though it was daytime on the planet's cycle around the star that served as its sun. No shadows were cast in the weak illumination. When Janeway glanced up, all she could see was the swirling greenness of the ion storm that engulfed Mishkara. It was alarming enough to see it from the outside, from the safety and comfort of her command chair on the bridge of her own ship. Now that she and her crew were captives of aliens-benevolent or not-the constantly churning gray-green mass that served Mishkara for a sky seemed even more threatening.
It was a wonder anything could live here, that anything could grow, could thrive, beneath the unfriendly heavens. The soil, too, seemed dead. It was mostly hard rock, though from time to time Janeway saw bits of unhealthy-looking, scraggly bits of vegetation clinging to life. By the appearance of the Mishkarans' teeth, she judged them to be carnivores.
And what did they feed on? Fear brushed her again, but resolutely she pushed it aside. Fear would not serve her if the Mishkarans proved to be as nonthreatening as they appeared, nor would it serve her if they turned hostile. She'd need all her wits about her if that happened.
"Captain," and Janeway glanced down to see Neelix, trying to appear as bright and chipper as ever. "What do you think will happen?"
"I've no idea, Neelix."
The Talaxian frowned. "This is putting a serious obstacle in the way of rescuing Kes."
Janeway had to laugh. At her chuckle, her furry companion paused and glanced down at her. She looked back up at him steadily. From deep in his throat came a whuffing, grunting sound-a sound like laughter. He was mimicking her! Hope flared inside her. Fixing her eyes on the small, piggy ones of the Mishkaran leader, she said, slowly, "I am Janeway."
With her free hand, she tapped her chest. "Janeway."
Still walking, it tilted its head. Its mouth worked. Finally it said, "Ain-whu." The word was garbled, harsh, breathy, but clearly understandable as her name. It pointed to itself and said, "Hrrrl."
"H-hurl," said Janeway.
It clicked its teeth twice-to indicate a negative?
Janeway wondered-and repeated, exaggerating the rolling Rs and guttural