Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [67]
"It felt... urgent. Vital. I had to follow the sound wherever it took me because... because..." She trailed off in some confusion. "Because why?"
"I'm not sure. I think I was going to say... because if I didn't come here-death would be victorious."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know that it means anything. It's just what I was feeling."
"Do you feel that way now?"
"No. All the sensations are gone."
"Great. Now how the heck do we get out of here?" He hit his commbadge, but wasn't surprised when his hail didn't raise anyone. He began scanning again, instinctively, looking for answers. He noticed that he'd begun to perspire, and hated to admit he was that apprehensive.
He began a tour of the room, scanning the walls closely. Maybe he could locate the source of the faint life signs. It was tedious work, and he wiped his brow several times before he completed his circumnavigation. When he had looped the room once, he came back to where Kes was standing, her fingers lightly grazing the shiny walls. Then she looked over at him in puzzlement.
"The wall feels warmer than before."
Harry realized Kes was perspiring, too. A few locks of her hair were damp. He reached out, touched the wall, and found that it was no longer cool. It wasn't what you'd call hot, but it had lost the satiny chill it had before. The tricorder confirmed it had risen several degrees in temperature. Kes turned in the room, hands on her cheeks. "It's getting hotter," she said. And then they both noticed that the hue of the wall was changing, too. It had lost all hints of blue and was now a purple with decidedly red undertones.
"Mr. Paris, have you ever achieved orbit directly from warp?"
"No, ma'am, I can't say that I have."
"Well, this is your chance."
Tom Paris turned and glanced at the captain, though he knew she was serious. "Ma'am?"
"I want to get our people back. But in all likelihood, the Kazon are still monitoring the planet. I want to stay at warp speed until we're behind the limb, then go directly into orbit."
Janeway watched as Tom pondered this dangerous feat. She could almost hear his mind working, making the necessary calculations. A moment passed, and then he glanced up at her.
"Captain, begging your pardon, but have you ever accomplished this?"
"No, Lieutenant, but I've heard of its being done. Therefore it's a possibility."
"Yes, ma'am. What warp factor did you want to use?"
"The highest we can and still pull this off."
Tom turned again to his console, and ran his fingers over the touch-sensitive surface. Janeway knew he was entering parameters for one of the most difficult calculations he'd ever attempted to perform. The navigational computer, assisted by the multivariate computational skills of Voyager's neural gel packs, would consider rates of acceleration and deceleration, the gravitational fields of the planet and its sun, the effect of the drag from the farthest reaches of the planet's upper atmosphere, and the performance efficiencies of the ship's warp nacelles. Tom was reviewing these numbers as they flashed across his screen. But even the extraordinary power of Voyager's computer system couldn't make the final choice among several viable trajectories; no computer could possibly take into account every subtle variable and contingency in such a complex calculation. Only the intuition of a gifted and experienced pilot could be trusted to make the final choice of heading and speed. And Janeway was banking on Tom's ability to do just that: to make a choice based on what felt right.
Finally, she saw him take a deep, quiet breath. "I think I can pull it off at warp four point two, Captain," he said, his voice betraying no hint of anxiety over the importance of this decision. "Then do it."
"Aye, warp four point two. Engaging..." There was a slight hesitation as he took a careful breath; she sensed him stilling his mind,