Pathways - Jeri Taylor [239]
He stood like that for a full minute, shaking his head in seeming bewilderment. Finally he turned and moved back out of sight.
Neelix was still frozen in place as his mind reeled with indecision. Had the guard realized what had happened? Or was his brain so addled by narcotics that he was incapable of deducing why his footprints had disappeared?
He was certain the group was in more peril now than at any other time since they’d arrived here. They’d better accelerate their plans before they were uncovered. He wished he had his combadge in order to alert the others, but it had been taken to provide tuning circuits for the transporters.
He waited another few minutes, then casually emerged from the woods and took another antigrav sled, guiding it at his side, tinkering with it as though he were preoccupied with its performance. As he moved through the storage area, another deposit of dust appeared and settled to the ground, obliterating both his footprints and those that the guard had left.
The next hour passed like a week. Neelix kept sneaking looks at the guard who’d thrown up, trying to figure out if he was behaving as though he was suspicious. He didn’t seem to be, sprawling lazily under the rock ledge, somnolent and dulled, staring out with hooded eyes at the activities of the miners.
Neelix had considered the possibility of feigning illness in order to be returned to the camp before the day was out. But he decided against it on several counts: it might draw attention to him and arouse even more suspicion; and the Subu guard, who didn’t seem particularly leery about his experience, had settled into a torpor. There was no reason to panic.
The workday ended and the prisoners were herded together for the walk back to the camp. Neelix was eager to get back and see how close they were to putting their plan in motion. Four guards usually accompanied them, one ahead, one behind, one on either side. But today, as the group started out, the guard who had visited the storage area gestured to another one, and then, to Neelix’s horror, began leading him back toward the stored sleds.
He had noticed! If he didn’t understand what had happened, he had at least realized something was odd, and was bringing the other guard to inspect the area, to offer his opinion as to how it could be that footprints could disappear from one moment to the next.
And of course when they returned they’d find no footprints at all, and would probably stand there long enough to witness one of the cyclical materializations.
Neelix forced himself to be calm, walking in a measured stride with the other miners, resisting the impulse to look over his shoulder and see if the two guards had returned from the storage area. The walk back to the camp seemed interminable, and by the time they got to the wall that surrounded the stockade, Neelix was panting, not from exertion, but from apprehension.
One of the guards gave a signal, and the huge gates rolled open and the miners entered the camp. Neelix walked briskly but calmly toward their shelters, trying not to run, adopting as casual a mien as he could. Finally he was there and he ducked inside.
“Commander!” he called, and Chakotay rose and came to him. “I think the guards may have seen some of the ore dust materializing. They may not be able to figure it out, but I think they’re suspicious.”
Chakotay turned immediately to B’Elanna and Harry, who were tirelessly operating the transporters. “How soon?” he asked tersely.
B’Elanna shoved her hair out of her eyes. Her face was grimy and sweaty, and dark rings under her eyes testified to her fatigue. “Without going down there, I can’t tell. There might be enough room now.”
“I think you should check it out.”
“All right. Harry—set the coordinates and get ready to energize.”
Harry