Marooned - Christie Golden [70]
I'd believe it, Tomes thought. I hope it's true.
Paris took a deep breath. "Okay. Get to it." What else could he say?
"Tom," Tomes said softly, "We don't have any anesthesia here. When the captain is working on the dead tissue, it shouldn't hurt, but she's going to have to go into the healthy flesh as well."
"Hey," quipped Tom, nillying as best he could, "I've been through worse. At least this time my tongue's not falling out."
His smile was forced, and vanished almost immediately. Torres took a deep breath of her own, preparing herself She was going to have to hold Paris down while they worked on him.
A flash of inspiration came to her. "Hey, Tom, tell me about this new holodeck program you've been working on. The one that almost got you in trouble on Oasis."
"You heard about that?"
"It's a small ship. Word gets around."
He smiled a little at that. Just at that moment, Janeway made the first cut. From where she sat, with Paris's head on her lap firmly between her palms, Torres could see the whole operation with clarity.
"It's based on Earth's history around the eighteenth century," Paris was saying. He kept his face carefully blank; Torres couldn't tell if he was feeling any pain yet or not. "Most of the action takes place on a galleon called The Captain's Lady. I, of course, am the dashing pirate captain."
"I'd have cast you as the scullery boy. Teach you a little humility."
"Ah, but it's my holodeck progr-ah!"
Torres felt him go rigid. She slipped an arm around his chest, trying to calm him and hold him down.
"Be as still as you can, Tom," she said. "You fight and the captain might cut something she shouldn't."
She felt warm breath on her cheek as, despite the agony he must be feeling, he laughed a little.
"Wouldn't-want-that," he managed through clenched teeth.
"Almost done," said Janeway.
"So," continued Torres, desperately racking her brain to come up with chatter to distract the patient, "Can I be in this pirate program of yours?"
"Oh, I have a part-in mind for you-God! Ah!"
"Still!" commanded Torres. Tom was bucking now, and Hrrri came to add his own strength to keep the wounded man from hurting himself further. "Keep talking, Tom, what part do you have for me?"
Out of the corner of her eye, B'Elanna saw Janeway working busily with the sterilized knife. The captain removed a palmful of decaying flesh riddled with wriggling maggots. Torres closed her eyes.
Paris screamed again, then went suddenly limp.
"Good," muttered Janeway. "We can work faster now that he's not conscious and feeling the pain."
She finished up quickly, and poured hot, clean water into the wound, washing out the last remnants of putrefaction. Hrrrl handed her a jar of ointment. Janeway scooped out some and packed it into the gaping hole in Paris's thigh. Finally, she bound the hole with strips of clean cloth, torn earlier from their uniforms for just such a need.
Sighing deeply, Janeway sat back. Hrrrl poured hot water over her bloody hands and she washed them with great fervor.
"Is he okay?" asked Torres.
"I'm not sure," replied Janeway. She looked tired. "I got all the necrotic tissue and the larvae the insect had deposited. Tuvok theorizes that the insect lays its eggs in living flesh and the poison makes the host's flesh decay, providing food for the larvae as it's needed." At Torres's expression, she grimaced in sympathy. "I know. It's not pretty. As I said, we got the larvae and the dead tissue. I simply don't know how far the poison has spread into the lieutenant's system. And we can't begin to process an antivenom until we get back to Voyager. We just have to hope we got it all, and that Tom can hang on till then."
"There is the issue of transporting him," interjected Tuvok. He gestured to his arm, lying uselessly in a sling. "We have come too far to return to Hrrrl's encampment. Mr. Paris is clearly unable to walk on his own at this point, even if the poison has been completely eradicated. Ordinarily,