Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [76]
But it didn’t matter anymore. They had made it.
Unfortunately, so had the Aklaash. With Kasaelek in the lead, they came pounding into the clearing at what appeared to be the exact same moment as Vigo and Greyhorse.
At least, that was how it appeared to Simenon. But then, his opinion didn’t matter. All that mattered was how it looked to the Elders standing in front of the egg cache.
If they thought the engineer’s group had come in first, Simenon would be awarded the right to fertilize the eggs. But if they thought Kasaelek’s group had beaten them...
Simenon didn’t even want to think about that.
His comrades gathered around him, their faces flushed and their breath coming fast. “Don’t worry,” Ben Zoma told him. “We took them, no question about it.”
“I think so, too,” said Joseph.
But Picard wasn’t venturing an opinion. Like his engineer, he seemed to think it was too close to call.
Simenon studied the Elders, waiting for their decision. As wisdom dictated, they turned and consulted with each other. Then, with both parties hanging on their words, one of them stepped forward and rendered their verdict.
“The race has ended in a draw,” he said.
“A draw?” Ben Zoma muttered in disgust.
Picard turned to Simenon. “What does that mean?”
The Gnalish sighed. “It means the winner will have to be chosen another way.”
The captain’s brow creased. “What way?”
Simenon regarded Kasaelek, who was grinning and clenching his fists at the news. The engineer wished he felt like grinning, too.
“In single combat,” he said softly.
Commander Wu stared at the blazing section of the accretion bridge on her forward viewscreen as if she could see into it and follow Jiterica’s progress.
But of course, she couldn’t. All she could see was the tiny speck that represented Ensign Paris’s shuttle, its position supported by a tractor beam emanating from the Stargazer.
Her officers, on the other hand, could keep track of Jiterica’s movements via ship’s sensors. And as time went on, they periodically brought the second officer up to speed. But they couldn’t say the words she was waiting to hear, the words that would enable her to breathe easily again.
Finally, she heard from the one who could say those words. “Paris here,” came the transmission from the shuttle.
Wu leaned forward in her seat. “Go ahead.”
“She’s in,” the ensign said.
The commander nodded. “That’s good news,” she told Paris.
But she knew the Nizhrak’s trial wasn’t over yet. There was still the small matter of what she had to accomplish on the Belladonna.
“Come on home,” she instructed the ensign. After all, his shuttle could only get in the way now.
“Aye,” Paris said—and cut the comm link.
On the viewscreen, the shuttlecraft could be seen wheeling about, its portion of the mission accomplished. Obviously, Wu had been right to place her faith in Ensign Paris.
“Commander?” said Kastiigan, interrupting Wu’s thoughts.
She turned to him. “Lieutenant?”
The science officer didn’t look happy. “There’s something here I think you should see.”
Wu got up and made her way to his side. “What is it?”
Kastiigan pointed a long, wrinkled finger at his central monitor. “I don’t know why, but the Belladonna’s rate of descent into the sinkhole seems to have accelerated.”
“Accelerated...?” Wu echoed, a chill climbing her spine.
She took a look at the Kandilkari’s monitor, hoping he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. However, the data bore him out. The scientists’ vessel was slipping into the sinkhole faster than before.
Much faster.
No, thought Wu. She can’t do this to us. She forced herself to ask Kastiigan the obvious question: “How long before she reaches the point of no return?”
The science officer frowned. “It’s difficult to say, Commander. But if she continues at this pace, I would say the Belladonna has no more than thirty minutes left.”
Thirty minutes, Wu thought. And Jiterica had gone in thinking she would have a couple of hours.
If there were a way to contact the ensign and warn her, the commander would have done it in a heartbeat.