Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [69]
“Understood. Keep me posted. Chakotay out.”
Ellis pursed his lips and thought. “The settlement is a half kilometer or so to the east, if I’m not mistaken.” He shot Patel a look.
“Correct, sir.”
“I don’t see the point in taking the shuttle for such a short distance. The hike will do us all good, and if there’s a sudden squall, we can take shelter in the settlement. I want you to fan out in standard exploration pattern Beta Four Three Four. You all have tricorders; keep track of your direction and of one another. We will reconvene at fifteen hundred hours at the center of the colony. I believe there’s a town square that will suit our purposes. You will be searching for any and all of the following threats that might prevent the colonists from resettling.”
To Kim’s disbelief, Ellis actually began to tick them off on his fingers. “Any hostile life-forms. Any indications that the area has been booby-trapped by the Cardassians or the Dominion or any other adversarial species. Any buildings that are unsafe. Any radiation or climatic changes. And anything else that you think might be worth reporting. Understood?”
“Aye, sir,” said Kim, Patel, Kaylar, and Niemann in chorus. Kim thought they sounded like the good crew of the H.M.S. Pinafore.
“Very good. I’ll see you all at fifteen hundred hours, then.” Ellis strode off boldly and was soon swallowed up by the forest.
Kim sighed and looked at the other three. “I’m not overly fond of standard exploration pattern Beta Four Three Four,” he told his team. “I don’t like to separate a group in an unknown situation. But we have our orders, and so far things don’t appear too dangerous. So let’s do it. See you in a couple of hours. Keep on your toes.”
The lights were bright, almost blinding, blocking the view of hundreds of people sitting in the audience. Libby was always grateful for that. It was best when she could just sink into the music and not have to think about “performing.” And that state was most easily accomplished when she couldn’t see her audience.
Even so, she often closed her eyes and surrendered to the exquisite sounds of the lal-shak as she coaxed forth its voice with her long, strong fingers. Somewhere between a harp, a cello, and a lute, the stringed instrument produced a sound unlike anything she had ever heard. This was why she had fallen in love with Ktarian music as a young woman; this was what held her even now and made her forget her other, less spiritual duties.
Sweat beaded her brow, trickled down her sides, dewed her throat. She loved it. Her breathing was deep and even, but her heart raced as it always did.
Her fingers flew. The lal-shak sang. Libby fell even more firmly under its spell.
The music spun faster from her hands, faster still in this piece that was a challenge even for native players to perform. There were no coughing or rustling sounds from the audience to disenchant the entranced woman, and she didn’t miss a note or a beat. The piece built to its crescendo, exploded, and then there was silence.
She opened her eyes at the first sound of the applause. It pattered like rain on her ears, punctuated with whoops and whistles. Shaking with the exertion, Libby rose and bowed to the audience. She was smiling so hard it hurt, but she couldn’t stop grinning. This was the second reason she continued to perform—this profound, heartfelt connection with her audiences. She moved them with her playing, and in return, they expressed their joy and gratitude. It was a satisfying, nourishing cycle.
She bowed again and again. An assistant came on-stage to respectfully take her instrument so she would have her hands free to wave and blow kisses to the audience that didn’t appear to want to stop clapping anytime soon. Then the flowers appeared on the stage: roses, orchids, bushels of the exquisite sayayan that she once told an interviewer were her favorite. They would all be gathered up and given to the hardworking members of her touring group, as her tiny cabin could hold only so many flowers.
Finally, the lights dimmed and she left the