Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [19]
Kim cocked his head and thought. "Edgar Allan Poe. Nevermore. The Corbies. Sing a Song of Sixpence. The Ugly Duckling. No, wait, he turned into a swan. Umm. ..."
But Seven had gone cold inside. The birds had suddenly erupted into a chorus of shrieking. They were flying about, their wings flapping, hugely excited.
Yes. Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye,-four and twenty blackbirds-Pain ripped through her, exquisite in its agony.
That awful smell of carrion filled her nostrils and twisted her stomach into knots. Her knees buckled and with a low groan she collapsed.
Harry seized her elbows and tried to lift her. She heard his voice, but faintly, as if he were far away: "Seven? Seven, are you all right?"
Why was he calling her Seven? She was the First of Six in her household-that was, until the Great Destroyers came. And his face-hideous! Deformed!
Frantically, Aman seized his face and cried out, "What have the Destroyers done to you? Oh, my love, my love...... She kissed him, and when she pulled back Sulmi's face was again the handsome, feathered visage she so adored. His expression was confused, and the words he spoke were curious. "Doctor, I'm bringing Seven in right now. It's happening again.
CAPTAiN's LoG, suppLEmENTAL. SEVEN of NINE is BACK in sickbay. The Doctor is concerned and, frankly, so am L Seven has become a valuable member of this crew, and despite our clashes, a friend as well. Try as I might, I can't envision journeying without her.
Her condition is currently stable, but erratic overall.
Presently she is unconscious, but I can't think of safer hands for anyone than the Doctor's, Despite my personal concern, we need to press on.
We are approaching the second required waystation in Imperial space and are preparing to rendezvous with its stationmaster. There are three more waystations before we reach the Lhiaarian homeworld. I couldn't imagine negotiating the forty-three that would be required without permission from the Emperor. Let's hope that when we finally have an audience with Emperor Beytek, he's in a good mood.
"Status report?" Janeway asked as she strode briskly onto the bridge from her ready room.
"We have just been contacted by Stationmaster Vooria's vessel," Ensign Kim informed her. "She's requesting permission to come aboard."
"Permission granted-gratefully," added the captain as she slipped into her command chair. "Janeway to Tamaak Vrs." Silence. She exchanged glances with Chakotay, whose confused expression indicated that he didn't know why the leader of the Skedans did not respond either.
"Janeway to Tamaak Vrs, please respond."
There was another pause, then finally: "Tamaak Vrs here, Captain."
"Stationmaster Vooria is preparing to beam aboard. I'm sending someone to escort you to the conference room immediately."
"Captain-I am terribly sorry about this, but-we are in the midst of performing a very meaningful ritual. We need to complete it. May I respectfully request that we postpone this meeting?"
"Tamaak,- said Chakotay, "You know I understand how important such rituals are to your people. But this meeting is important, too. It's taken hours just to get a Lhiaarian representative to agree to see us, and we need your special brand of diplomacy if we want to get to the Emperor."
A pause. "Just a few minutes, Captain. I beg you."
"Captain, if I may make a suggestion," said Tuvok.
"We hope to convince the Lhiaarian stationmaster to report favorably to her emperor. A brief tour of Voyager might intrigue her sufficiently and influence the tenor of her report. We are, after all, attempting to persuade Emperor Beytek that we are worth an audience."
"Excellent idea, Tuvok," approved Janeway.
"Tamaak, you've got a half-hour. Not a minute more.
Understood?"
"Completely, Captain. And I thank you."
Tamaak Vrs turned off the communicator and regarded his people. They were all together, standing quietly in a circle. Their concentration had been broken, but not shattered