Pathways - Jeri Taylor [235]
He was watching one particularly fierce-looking bird which was straying ever closer to them. “Captain,” he began, wanting to alert her to its presence, but when he looked for her, she was nowhere to be seen.
Tuvok bolted to the edge of the precipice where he’d last seen her and looked over it, dreading what he might see— her body, broken on the harsh rocks, or sinking beneath the bubbling waves of that boiling lake . . .
What he saw surprised him even more. She was climbing, precariously, down the side of the cliff. What was the woman thinking?
Then he realized there was a large nest tucked in the crags of a rocky outcropping, and within that nest lay two eggs, mottled in brown and green.
“Captain!” he bellowed over the wind, but she gave no indication that she heard him. He looked back at the smoky sky, and saw the bird drifting closer, borne by the updrafts of the hot, humid air, giant wings spread to their full width, which he estimated to be a good two meters.
It was close enough now to see the bird’s head, and he watched in curious fascination for a moment. The head looked more like the head of an animal than that of a bird. Eyes were set in front, like a predator’s, rather than on the sides. And the mouth, now agape, contained a set of quite vicious teeth—teeth, he was sure, that were capable of ripping flesh from limb.
Tuvok waited no longer. He climbed over the side of the cliff and began climbing toward Janeway, cursing her, in his mind, as he did.
The noise of the wind was even louder on this side of the precipice, and powerful enough to make the going difficult, even for him. He wondered how that tiny slip of a woman could stay on her feet, but she was climbing nimbly, heading directly for the nest. Tuvok struggled toward her, casting frequent glances at the sky, but the cliff wall obscured the angle of his vision. He realized that if the bird was returning to its nest, it would be upon them almost without warning.
Captain Janeway was now near the nest, which she was scanning intently, holding on with her free hand to a jagged rock in order to keep her balance. She glanced back and saw Tuvok, and broke into an excited smile. She mouthed words which Tuvok couldn’t hear, pointing toward the eggs.
In reply, Tuvok pointed to the sky—but as yet, the bird had not appeared. Perhaps this was not its nest, after all.
“. . . eggs . . . may be . . . or saurian . . .” The captain’s shouts were lost on the roaring winds, but there was no mistaking the genuine excitement on her face.
He was only a few feet from her now, and he hoped he could persuade her to give up this folly. “I suggest we ignore this nest, Captain,” he shouted, but even as he did he realized she was not looking at him, but staring up, at something above him. Tuvok whirled and saw the predator bird diving toward them.
He drew his phaser, was vaguely aware of the captain shouting, “Don’t hurt it!,” but the bird rammed him before he could get off a shot. He lost his balance, teetered on the slippery rock, then grabbed for a hold with both hands, the phaser tumbling down the cliff face to the edge of the stormy lake far below.
The bird had circled away from them and was turning to make another dive. He moved to put his body in front of the captain’s when he saw her pointing; he turned, and saw the opening.
Several meters from them, along a treacherous, rock-strewn path, was the opening to what might be a cave. The captain was already scrambling toward it, and Tuvok, casting a quick glance at the now-diving bird, followed quickly.
A heavy impact on his arm and then searing pain as the bird clamped down on his arm. He swung around with his other fist and hit it in the forehead, dislodging it. Then he dived into the cave.
It was small and cramped, but it would shield them from the predator bird, the opening being too small to admit it. He and Janeway crawled to the back wall of the cave and sat there catching their breath.
“You’re hurt,” she noticed.
Tuvok inspected his arm. His uniform was torn and there