String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [108]
The Voyager continued to stare, fists on her hips. Corek tried to keep his eyes locked on her face. Looking at anything below her neck was distressing, though he didn’t much care for anything above it either. Her small eyes and flat nose reminded Corek of an infant. He settled on the neck region and said, “I am Commander Corek of the Emergency Council police. We have been sent to investigate an electrical disturbance that our scanners tell us originated from this location approximately twenty-seven hours ago.”
“Really?” the Voyager said. “We have been here for less then twelve hours, so this is no concern of ours.”
“That is beside the point,” Corek replied, wondering why this woman was being so obtuse. “Also, another member of my force contacted one of your crew less than two hours ago and asked her to accompany us to the city. She was very rude to the shalla.”
“Ah, yes. Lieutenant Torres. She is very rude. I will make sure she is severely chastised.” She paused, cocked her head as if listening to another conversation, and then repeated, “Severely.”
Baffled, Corek stood transfixed, unsure how to respond. His second moved close behind him and nudged him in the side. “Sir?” Corek asked him what he wanted.
“Sir,” the second whispered. “There’s movement on the roof.” He paused to let the idea sink in, then suggested, “Snipers?”
Corek stiffened and experienced a sudden desire to move closer to the vehicles. He squashed it, knowing that he could not risk showing weakness in front of his troops. Momentarily ignoring the alien, Corek lifted his field glasses to his eyes and scanned the rooftops, and instantly saw movement. If there was a sniper, he was the clumsiest in existence. Or perhaps—anxious thought—he didn’t feel an urgent need to hide. “Who’s up on the roof?” Corek asked.
The Voyager turned to look up, then immediately snapped around again. The creature’s spine was very limber. A Monorhan would have had to take a half-step to the right or the left to look back over her shoulder that way. Watching the movement made Corek feel slightly queasy. “Technicians,” she explained. “We’re setting up an experiment.”
“They’re moving something, sir,” the second said. “Do you want me to send someone around to investigate.”
“No!” the Voyager said sharply. “This is none of your concern. If you do not cease your intrusions…” She stopped speaking so suddenly that for a split second Corek wondered if one of his troops had lost control and fired at her. But then she said, “What?” and looked at the ground before her feet as if she were having a squabble with a small, invisible person. “Of course you can! Just hold on all the way down.”
“Sir?” the second asked, taking a step back, his hand reaching toward his weapon. Dealing with aliens was one thing. Dealing with an insane alien something else entirely. “She’s talking to someone.”
“If you don’t,” the alien said, spinning to look up at the roof, “we’re going to be here all day! Just do it!”
Of course, Corek realized. Some kind of hidden microphone. “Excuse me,” Corek said, attempting to wrest control of the situation. “You’re going to have to come with us. The shalla will decide what is to be done.”
The alien looked up at him, her small eyes boring into his, and stepped forward. “Here’s what I think of your shalla.”
“She punched him,” Kaytok announced.
“I know!” B’Elanna shouted from the pilot’s seat.
“Why did she punch him?”
“Because he made her angry.” The engines hummed beneath their feet. Kaytok very much wished he could sit down, but the console was neither bolted to the floor (as he had suggested) nor lashed into the shuttle’s bulkhead. B’Elanna trusted it to one of the antigravity pads, which,