Pathways - Jeri Taylor [39]
But it was all made worthwhile by one thing: having met and worked beside the remarkable woman named Kathryn Janeway.
CHAPTER
3
WHEN CHAKOTAY FINISHED TALKING, HE REALIZED THAT every one of his group had been listening, rapt. “I didn’t mean to go on and on,” he apologized, realizing he had revealed more about himself than he had ever expected to.
“That was interesting, sir,” said Harry sincerely. “Commander Nimembeh did the same thing to me at the Academy—ordered me to take laps in my boots. But the outcome was a little different.”
“Tell you what, Ensign,” replied Chakotay, “tomorrow night you can tell us all about it. Maybe by then we’ll even have a campfire to tell our stories around.”
“I didn’t have nearly as interesting a life as you. Everyone will be bored.”
Chakotay clapped him on the shoulder. “I doubt that. I’d especially like to hear your experiences with Nimembeh.”
Harry finally agreed, and they all went to sleep, feeling closer, more bonded, at the end of this day than they had at the beginning.
• • •
Harry’s sleep was fitful, because the night life of the camp was not a tranquil one. There was a chorus of cries and groans that was even more disturbing in the dark than it was during the day. In the distance he heard the shouts of conflict, and then a horrible shriek. He glanced up at the wall to see if this behavior provoked any response from the guards, but there was none. Apparently they were content to let the roiling mass of prisoners see to itself, dispensing rough prisoner justice.
Harry tried not to let himself think of home, of the quiet gardens his parents cultivated, of the soft music his mother played on an ancient instrument, of the utter harmony and serenity of that life. It was far away now, and he’d been through one severe test after another since he’d joined Voyager. He was harder, tougher, more capable than ever. He could survive this latest challenge, would survive it. Fleeting memories of Nimembeh flickered in his mind and he felt a moment’s nostalgia for the man who had once been his tormentor.
He turned over on the ground, looking for a comfortable position. The ground didn’t seem to have retained the heat of the day, and felt damp. The night air was as chilly as the daylight had been scorching. The elements weren’t kind on this planet.
He wasn’t sure when he realized someone was crawling toward him. A dark shape about fifteen meters from him, silhouetted by the flickering light of someone’s fire, moved with agonizing slowness toward the outer periphery of the Voyager group, where Harry lay. Once he spotted the prowling form, Harry’s senses were alert. He saw the huddled shape, on all fours, picking its way through a scattering of other sleeping forms, stopping occasionally as though to gauge its progress and assess whether its stealthy approach had been detected.
Harry watched intently, breathing deeply as though he were sound asleep. The creeping form was now only about three meters away, still stopping every few seconds and looking around, testing the air like an animal. Harry couldn’t see any of its features, only a black shape that moved against the background of the distant campfires.
When the dark form reached his feet, it stopped, and was still for a long moment. Harry waited, tensed, ready for the being to make its move.
When it came, it was anything but what he expected. A hand reached out and gripped his leg gently, the soft touch of a cat’s paw, while the other tugged smoothly at his boots. Swiftly, he sat up and lunged forward, grabbing for the hand holding his leg.
He heard a surprised