Marooned - Christie Golden [69]
Janeway activated her wristlight and hastened back toward the others, Hrrrl lumbering-standing on his hind legs again-at her side. "What is it?" she asked, kneeling beside Paris.
"I am uncertain, but I believe he has become infected," Tuvok answered. They had propped Paris up against a large stone, and B'Elanna frowned terribly, her arms crossed.
"I should have concentrated on the medical tricorder," growled the chief engineer.
"Torres, we needed weapons, communication, and at least one tricorder. You had your priorities straight. Guess we'll just have to figure this out the old fashioned way."
She knelt beside Paris, who was conscious, though clearly ill. He fought to keep from trembling, but his face had lost all color and sweat gleamed on his brow. Janeway reached out a hand and pressed it to his forehead.
"Tom, you're burning up!" She placed two fingers on his neck: the pulse was rapid and thready. "Have you eaten anything that we haven't?" she asked, taking the canteen Torres offered. Gently, she placed a hand behind Paris's head-it was soaking with sweat-and lifted him up so that he could drink.
He gulped at the water, and she pulled the canteen back. "A little at a time," she admonished gently. Paris licked gray lips. "I've eaten what you have, and I don't think-wait a minute. There was a bug that bit me, I don't know, a couple of days agoitched like crazy."
Janeway's heart sank, but she fought to keep her worry from showing. "Where did it bite you?"
He gestured. "On the thigh. Still itches."
Torres glanced at her captain, who nodded. Swiftly Torres knelt and with a small knife cut a slit along his left thigh.
"Oh, my God," breathed Janeway, despite herself.
The flesh was puffy and a sickly color of black green. Janeway could see the bite clearly: a dot of white tissue amid the sea of putrefaction. Beneath the harsh glare of the wristlight, she could see something else. Something was moving under the skin.
TORRES CLUTCHED THE SMALL KNIFE SO HARD THAT HER fingers cramped. She swallowed, once, twice, keeping the bile down where it belonged.
Tom could see their faces, and his own registered fear. "What is it?" he asked, and struggled weakly to see his thigh.
Torres moved swiftly, almost without thinking, to turn his face away from the sight. It was bad enough that they had to see it. He didn't have to. She moved to take his head in her lap, as much to be able to control what Paris saw as to offer comfort.
"It's a bad bite," she said. That much, at least, was true. She glanced over at Janeway, who, with Hrrrl, was still intent on inspecting the wound. There came the sound of a phaser; in the darkness, Tuvok was preparing to boil water. Janeway glanced up and shook her head, ever so slightly. Don't tell him.
B'Elanna nodded her own head in a subtle acknowledgment and waited for her captain to speak. She leaned forward and wordlessly handed Janeway the knife. The captain was going to need it. Janeway took it and said something in a low voice to Hrrrl. The Sshoush-shin clicked his teeth twice-a negativeand replied in a voice equally soft.
"What's going on?" asked Paris, sensing his captain's distress.
Janeway squatted back. The beam from her wristlight bounced off the earth, casting strange shadows. "You've been bitten by something that's obviously got some kind of poison. Hrrrl's never seen it before. It's harmless to the Sshoush-shin-their hides are a lot thicker than ours. I won't lie to you. It looks pretty bad, and we've only got the crudest of tools to work with here. Some of the flesh is gangrenous. I'm going to have to cut away the dead flesh. When we get back to Voyager, the doctor will be able to regenerate anything we have to-to get rid of. You'll be fine."
There was a heavy emphasis on this last word, and even in the weird, partial lighting, Torres could see her captain's eyes filled with intensity.