Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [68]
“And I can’t make any promises,” he told the captain. “But we’ll hold out as long as we can. La Forge out.”
*
“Damn,” said Riker, raising his voice to be heard. “Where did this wind come from?”
Kane, who was right behind him, shook his head to show he had no answer either. When they’d left the tower in which Sousa and the others were sheltered, the ensign had noticed that the breeze was much brisker. But it had been nothing like this.
If the ramps had been silent on the way in, they were hardly that now. The same gusts that buffeted them, forcing them to keep low to the surface or be pushed backward, seemed to spur entire flights of demonic howls from the depths of the chasms beneath them.
Fortunately, they had almost reached the beam-down site at the outskirts of the sensor-shielded area. Another hundred yards or so, maybe less, and they’d be able to contact the ship. What’s more, there was a tower between them and their destination-a place to rest and catch their breath.
Kane was glad they didn’t have to go back for their companions. In this wind, it would be nearly impossible. They would just take refuge in one of the towers -the one up ahead or some other-and wait for the shuttle to arrive.
Unlike people, a shuttle could handle weather like this, he told himself. They were built to withstand adverse conditions.
The concept of human fragility put him in mind of Sousa’s injury. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have just blasted away at those alien machines?
Kane wished he had it all back again. He wished he could rewind it and erase it, as if it had never really happened in the first place. But he couldn’t, could he? No matter how well Sousa healed, no matter what else took place, he’d always have to live with the knowledge of what he’d done.
And he wouldn’t be the only one. Troi knew too-maybe not down to the last detail, but she knew. And she wasn’t going to keep it a secret-not something as serious as almost getting somebody killed on an away mission.
What’s more, Kane didn’t blame her. Whatever he got, he deserved.
Suddenly, the tower was right ahead of them. And as they pressed forward into its shadow, it shielded them from the wind to a certain degree. Tired and sore from their exertions, they lurched into the arched entranceway and took seats on the floor just inside.
Riker shook his head, his face red and windburned. “Nice weather we’re having.”
The ensign grunted-then turned away, as if sizing up the last stretch ahead of them. After what he’d done, he couldn’t look the man in the eye.
Riker seemed not to notice. Sighing, he got to his feet again. “Come on,” he said. “No rest for the weary, Ensign.”
Following the first officer’s example, Kane stood and made his way out onto the outgoing ramp. After his brief respite, the wind hit him with what seemed like even greater ferocity. Worse, it appeared to have gotten temperamental; it was shifting directions now, making it harder to keep his balance.
Alternately shuffling forward in the crosswinds and plunging forward when they momentarily abated, the ensign made good progress. But up ahead, Riker was plowing through at a much better clip. Maybe where he came from, Kane speculated, people were used to this kind of weather.
Suddenly, before his disbelieving eyes, the first officer was knocked right off his feet by an unexpectedly powerful gust. Nor did it stop there. Even as Riker clawed at the surface of the ramp, it slid him quickly and without warning to the very brink.
Kane tried to forge ahead with greater speed, to lend a hand, but it was no use; he couldn’t make enough headway. He’d barely gone a half-dozen steps before Riker slipped over the edge and was gone.
“Noooo!” he cried, the wind tearing at the word as soon as it left his mouth. “Damn it, nooo!”
First Andy Sousa, and now Will Riker. Both victims of his foolishness. If not for his itchy trigger finger, they could all be huddled safe and sound in some tower. Instead, the first officer was dead-and maybe his friend would be too, before long.
All my fault, thought