Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [16]
Tapping his communicator, the engineer said: “Reg, the access tunnel at the far end of the room … is it still open?”
A pause. “Yes, sir,” came the response. “It seems to be.”
Geordi nodded. “Good. Then exit that way. We’ll meet you in the corridor outside.”
At that moment, Picard heard the brief hum that he now associated with the onset of an energy spike. A moment later, the surge came, and with it the rush of interior illumination. The captain watched as lights snapped on and off again down the long corridor.
“Come on,” he told his companion.
Together, he and La Forge covered the hundred or so meters in a matter of seconds. Reaching the aperture of the second access tunnel, Picard looked inside and saw that the way was clear. He could discern the shadowy shapes of the three engineers as they made their way into it from the control room.
However, this tunnel was a good deal longer than the other one, and darker as well. It would take Barclay and the others several more minutes to negotiate.
Peering in over the captain’s shoulder, Geordi muttered a curse. “This is going to take longer than I’d hoped,” he observed.
Nonetheless, in a matter of moments, the engineers were slithering through the tunnel, their handlamps flashing back and forth as they moved. Before long, Picard could make out the taut, frightened face of engineer Martina O’Connor peeking out at him. Spying the captain up ahead, she managed to move a little faster.
Picard would have met her partway, considering all the equipment she was dragging behind her. However, there wasn’t room in the tunnel for both of them. And a couple of seconds later, she was emerging into the corridor anyway.
Ensign Varley was next. He passed out his load of technical devices, then squirmed out to the mouth of the tunnel. The captain had just enough time to recognize his young, earnest features when another surge came, this time without the precursor hum.
Varley had barely dragged half his body out when the hatch above him began sliding down. Noting the flash of motion, La Forge reacted quickly, diving for the small control panel next to the access tunnel—hoping to prevent what had happened at the other opening.
He was quick enough to raise the hatch before the power went out—but not to prevent it from briefly meeting with the floor, despite the fact that Ensign Varley’s midsection was directly under it.
Picard looked on in horror. The young man hadn’t even had time to scream as the door efficiently cut him in half. Varley’s face registered just a brief, ghastly flicker of surprise before the light went out of his eyes.
“My God,” the captain breathed. Geordi and O’Connor couldn’t even do that.
Picard pushed away his frustration and rising grief for the young man. Barclay was still in there. And his away team was still in danger.
And then a cry filled the chamber. Loud, piercing, nearly hysterical.
“Mr. Barclay,” Picard shouted over the man’s wail. “You have to come through. Now.” The effect was immediate. Barclay stopped screaming. But the captain, who had stooped to look into the tunnel, saw that the engineer wasn’t moving. He was just looking at Varley’s bisected body in mute terror.
Recognizing that the corpse wouldn’t give Barclay enough room to get through, the captain reached in and, as quickly and gently as he could, dragged Varley’s remains out of the tunnel. Geordi was right behind him, helping.
In a calm, even tone, the captain addressed Barclay. “Lieutenant, exit this tunnel now.” But the man had assumed a sitting position against the tunnel wall and was inching backward. “Stop,” Picard ordered. The engineer stopped. “Move out now,” the captain continued.
“But sir … the hatch …” a motionless Barclay said in a frightened near-whisper. Seeing where the lieutenant was pointing, Picard looked up and realized that the hatch, with its bloody bottom edge, was directly above him.
In an instant, the captain reviewed his options and took the quickest course. Crawling inside the tunnel, he reached for Barclay, grabbed the