Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [53]
Words were not enough for the rush of other people’s thoughts rippling inside your head.
There-there. Troi stopped and stood very still, though to Worf and Breck she had not moved and so could not be still. Troi forced herself very still inside. There, like a familiar thread, or a piece of music heard from a great distance. Picard; she knew that slightly disapproving calm anywhere.
Troi didn’t so much open her eyes as begin to see where her body stood again. “I’ve found him.” Her voice was very quiet and seemed to echo from deep inside her body. It was not easy to make contact with someone who could not reciprocate the mental touch, and to maintain that contact and follow it back to its source while moving through a place drenched in terror.
Troi moved very carefully down the hallway. It was like carrying a glass of water up a flight of stairs. Each movement had to be thought about, not just by her mind, but her body. Concentration had to be total.
‘Are there other guards?” Troi asked. Her words seemed slow.
‘Two more in the torture area, plus the questioner,” Breck said.
‘The torturer?” Troi made it a question.
‘Yes.”
‘If the guards come, I can’t help you. I can’t let go of the captain.”
‘Understood,” Worf said. “Take us to the captain. Breck and I will do the rest.”
Troi moved down the corridor, past all the doors. Someone was behind almost every door. The buzzing flowed and faded, parts growing louder as she passed in front of the physical cause of the fear, or sorrow. She saw Picard’s thread as a faint white line like the things you see out of the corners of your eyes. She did not look directly at it but around it, and it pulled her forward.
A hand grabbed her shoulder. She stumbled and nearly lost that shining thread. She didn’t dare look around to find out why someone had stopped her. If she panicked now, there might not be time to reestablish contact with the captain. Troi closed her eyes. Her job was to maintain concentration. She had to let Worf and Breck do their jobs. If they failed… Troi didn’t even let herself finish the thought. Nothing mattered but that faint line. Nothing.
Breck’s voice came softly, a whisper. “The main torture area lies just ahead. If we must pass through it, then we may be forced to kill.”
‘Counselor, are we close to the captain?”
She spoke with her eyes still closed, concentrating on that faint line. “Yes.” Her voice was thick and slow with the effort not to lose that line.
Worf leaned into her, his breath whispering along her face, “We have only three more doors to either side before we will be forced to confront guards. Is Captain Picard on this side?”
‘I don’t know. Close, he’s very close.” Worf’s irritation was the faintest of thoughts. She had no time or energy left over for Worf.
‘Lead us, Counselor,” he said.
Troi moved forward, eyes still closed. She didn’t need to see. It was only a handful of steps, and the line merged into a door.
She reached a tentative hand in front of her. Fingertips brushed something hard and cool. She blinked rapidly, trying to see what she touched. It was a cell door.
‘Behind here, he’s behind here.” Her voice still held that lazy quality. She felt like she was waking from a dream, sluggish and heavy-headed. The effects would pass in minutes, but while they lasted, Troi felt a step away from reality. Distant and cool as a dream.
‘Can you unlock this door?” Worf asked.
Breck didn’t answer but gently pushed Troi to one side. He pressed his palm flat to a slightly raised panel of the door. There was a faint pulse of amber light, then the door cracked open with a sigh.
Breck pushed the door inward, rifle at the ready. Worf hissed, “Captain?” The door opened wide.
Picard sat on a narrow bench against