Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [24]
Thelia stared. “There is no opening.”
“It is there,” Data insisted, searching for handholds on the steep rockface. Once he was on the ledge, though, the opening was invisible once more to the spectrum he could command.
Undaunted, Data walked straight through what appeared to be solid rock-only to be called back by Thelia’s startled shout of his name. She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You walked through stone. You are one of the gods!” “No, I am not,” he told her.
“Thelia, it only looks like solid rock. Where I come from, we would call it a holographic projection. Come up and I will show you.” He did not tell her he could detect any ordinary hologram, and that this was technology beyond anything in his experience. Making contact with these Elysian “gods,” no matter how many questions were left unanswered, was worth overcoming whatever obstacles they placed in his way.
The rock face Data had climbed was too high for him to lift Thelia from below, or to reach down and pull her from above. He had to let her find her own hand-and foot-holds until she was within his reach; then he lay down on the ledge and held out his hand.
She looked up, panting. “I’ll pull you over.”
“No-I am well centered here,” he replied, for he had stretched the length of his body away from the edge to counterbalance her weight. Thelia, though, still sought her own way up. Only when she could find no handholds suited to her organic strength did she take his hand. Even then she scrambled up much on her own, far underestimating Data’s strength and mass. Data was reminded of Tasha Yar. Although Thelia had dark hair and eyes, and features more gamine than Tasha’s classic beauty, she seemed to be about the same small size under her loose clothing. It was the spirit and determination that Data recognized, the ability to call up emotional strength beyond physical ability.
He recognized also the movements of an athletelike Tasha, this woman had honed her native abilities to their keenest edge in preparation for her Quest.
When she stood beside him, she frowned at the apparently solid rock face, put out a hand-and swallowed hard as it went right through. “The gods thus show their presence.” Squaring her shoulders, she stepped forward. Data followed, and they found themselves in a cave dimly lit by spots of fluorescent lichen, the first life, other than themselves and the swamp creatures, that Data had seen on the island.
“You were right,” Thelia said. “This must be the way we are to go. It is different for each one who comes here, they say.” She shook her head. “I could not have found the opening alone.”
“The gods must be observing us, and matching their tests to our abilities. When you were attacked, they opened the barrier so that I could reach you. They disguised the cave opening, but in such a way that I could still find it. It appears that they wish you to trust me.”
“We must trust each other,” she said. “We’d best go on now, I think,” and she started farther into the cave.
Data adjusted his vision to the dim light. A steep trail led upward, easy for him, tiring for Thelia. They climbed for over half an hour without incident.
Thelia sat down on a rock formation,, took a drink, and again offered the water bag to Data. “I do not need water at this time,” he explained. “My body does not excrete fluids to cool itself, as yours does.”
“No, you’re not perspiring,” Thelia agreed.
“Your strength, and lack of need for food and water-are these gifts of the gods, Data?” He saw that she would keep asking until he gave her an answer. How much of the truth would the Elysian gods allow her to know? For that matter, did they know exactly what Data was?
Again he tried an abridged version of the facts.
“I have no gifts from these gods, Thelia. I simply use energy resources efficiently.
Eventually I will need nutrients, but-was With hardly a warning rumble, the roof caved in!
Data shoved Thelia under a shallow overhang, shielding her with his own body.
It lasted only moments,