String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [42]
Especially since you are, Ziv thought. “Not unlikely at all, my rih.”
With a nod and a sly smile, but no other comment, the rih-hara-tan signed off.
Monorha may have always been like this, Chakotay thought as the shuttle dropped down below the cloud layer, but I hope not. Hectares of barren rock bordered by roiling sea slipped beneath the shuttle’s prow. There were no signs of green vegetation, though here and there he saw patches of gray that might have been some kind of fungus or hardy lichen.
While the atmosphere was not actually corrosive, breathing it for any length of time would make him feel like someone was scrubbing his bronchial tubes with chemical abrasives. Scans showed that the seas still lived, the Monorhan version of plankton still able to survive, but microscopic anaerobic organisms were proliferating, coating the waters in large gray slicks. The deeps of the ocean were dying, with several dozen species of large predators and game fish failing. Chakotay began to wonder about their earlier assessment that the Monorhans were a predatory species. How could they have evolved from pack hunters when there was so little landmass?
Ensign Smothers, the copilot Clemens had found for him, announced, “Coming up on our coordinates, Commander.” Twenty kilometers ahead, Chakotay spotted the curve of the lead-colored hillside that Shalla Kiiy had described. Behind it, the same dull color, rose what might have been another hillside, except that this one sketched an impossibly precise curve against the russet sky. “How much power do you think their shields take, sir?”
Chakotay couldn’t even begin to guess. If the Monorhans had some form of matter-antimatter generator, this wouldn’t be a problem, but the scans they had made of the transport hadn’t shown anything more sophisticated than crude fusion reactors. Impressive in its way, Chakotay decided, struggling to be fair. If not for Zefram Cochrane and the arrival of the Vulcans, Earth might have ended up looking a great deal like this.
Two minutes later, Smothers pointed out the curved airlock door. “There it is, sir. Just where they said.”
“I see it, Jim. Hang on. I’m going to go in slow so everyone can have a look.” Switching over from impulse engines to a-grav, the shuttle shimmied slightly.
“The shields are still up, sir.”
“I know, Ensign.”
“Yes, sir,” Smothers said. “It’ll just make the landing a little…” Nearing the ground, the shuttle bucked once, then again, as the shields readjusted for the proximity of the ground. “A little bumpy, sir.”
“Yes, Ensign. Duly noted.”
The shuttle touched down with no additional dramatics. After powering down the engines, Chakotay pushed his chair away from the console and put his hands behind his head. Smothers looked at him questioningly, but did not speak.
“Say what’s on your mind, Ensign.”
Smothers swallowed, then nodded. “We’re not going in?”
“No,” Chakotay said. “We’re waiting right here until our guests come out to meet us. I have no desire to be exposed to any more hard radiation than necessary.”
“Fine by me,” Smothers said. “Those shots the Doc gives us make me bloat.” He gave Chakotay a sidelong glance. “But that’s not the only reason, is it?”
“Good observation, Ensign,” Chakotay said. “Maybe I’m getting a suspicious nature in my old age, but I’ve seen too many of these little errands go wrong.”
“Don’t you worry the Monorhans will think we’re being rude?”
Chakotay shrugged. “Who knows what the Monorhans consider rude? I’d prefer not to take any chances.” In actuality, Chakotay was fairly certain the Monorhans would find his actions rude, but B’Elanna’s comment had stuck in his craw. Time to listen to some of my own advice and be cautious.
Five minutes later, his caution was rewarded. The airlock cycled open and two broad-shouldered figures loped out, both wearing what Chakotay would have found to be heavy,