String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [100]
B’Elanna’s tricorder pinged as they crested a hill. Down below, in a long, flat gully that she now realized must have once been a riverbed, she saw their shuttle. A half-dozen Monorhans were stationed around it, each of them looking outward.
“Uh-oh,” Kaytok said, squatting down so as not to be silhouetted against the brightening sky.
B’Elanna knelt beside the Monorhan. “Who are they?” she whispered.
“Emergency Council police.” Kaytok grunted unhappily. “Any ideas?”
B’Elanna considered the situation, but before she could speak her mind, she felt another consciousness rise up inside her. Go talk to them, Seven said.
Why? B’Elanna thought.
Why not? They know who we are. The Emergency Council believes we are trying to assist them.
But they’ve been lying to their own people, B’Elanna thought.
They do not know that we know this.
What about Kaytok?
A friendly local who was good enough to feed you, then bring you back to your vessel.
B’Elanna considered her options. She did not want to leave Kaytok alone out here in the middle of nowhere if for no other reason than they still needed him to figure out what to do with the shield generator. “Do any of these Emergency Council people know what you look like?”
“No reason why they would,” Kaytok replied.
“All right,” B’Elanna said as she rose. “Then come on down with me. The bugs in my head say we should go talk to these gentlemen and convince them they have no reason to keep us from the shuttle.”
“Are you sure you want to listen to the bugs?”
Picking a careful path over the loose stones and shale, B’Elanna replied, “They haven’t lied to me yet.”
“Captain? Captain Ziv, are you there? We are here, sir, but we cannot feel you.”
In sickbay, Shet watched Mol from the edge of the small alcove where they had brought the captain after he had collapsed.
“Captain Ziv? Sir?” Mol continued to mutter to the captain, his words occasionally lapsing into the soft burring and humming a parent would use to speak to his child. Shet was vaguely aware that the Voyagers were excited, that their status had changed in some manner, but he could not bring himself to try to understand. Ziv, their anchor, had deserted his body, and there was very little chance any of them would ever see home again.
“Excuse me?”
Shet turned to look at the Voyager, the small, hairy one named Neelix. “Yes?”
“You’ll have to excuse me,” Neelix said, “but Captain Janeway asked me to find out if there’s anything you need now.”
Shet considered, but couldn’t think of anything he truly wanted, so he said, “More than anything, my hara and I would like privacy.”
“Of course,” Neelix said. “I’ll take care of it.” He turned to leave, but then, bowing slightly, continued, “Another question, if you don’t mind.”
Shet nodded. Though he found Neelix slightly annoying, he also appreciated the creature’s good manners.
“I hope I’m not breaking any taboos when I ask about this,” Neelix said deferentially. “But the medics were wondering about Sem.” He hesitated, uncertain how to continue.
Insight dawned. Of course they would have examined her. “She has two sets of arms,” Shet said.
Neelix nodded. “This is…common?”
“Yes,” he said. “For females. The extra set of arms is usually quite small, but they grow larger and more dexterous when a woman is fertile. Or pregnant.” He held up his hands, which were considered quite large even for a mature male. “These are not good for dealing with small things.”
“And I take it,” Neelix said, speaking very softly, “that women do not expose this second pair of arms?”
“Correct.”
Neelix looked thoughtful for several seconds, then continued, “I sense that you might not much care for Sem, but I feel obliged to tell you that her second set of arms appear to be…quite large, quite muscular. What do you think that means?”
“I expect,” Shet said, “that Sem