String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [55]
“Yes,” Harry replied. “But that wasn’t the problem.” Flipping open the device, Harry clumsily scanned the console, then his hand, then turned the display toward the captain so she could see the results. “Look,” he said softly, as if he were afraid to speak too loudly. “Molecular cohesion tables.”
Janeway studied the tables for several seconds, then tentatively tapped the console with her index finger. Looking Harry in the eye, she said, “Whatever it was that happened to Grench…”
“Yes, Captain?”
“I won’t let it happen to you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Harry nodded cautiously.
“Continue your scans, Ensign. See if you can find out what caused that Klaxon to go off. That was the bioneural circuitry alarm, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And find out what happened to the stars.”
Ziv, Diro, and Jara stepped aside to let the pair of human medics enter the airlock and tend to their injured comrade. The second airlock door that led into the shuttle hangar was still sealed, but Ziv watched the atmospheric indicator on the wall climb toward normal. Soon Morsa and Sem would be able to leave the shuttle and then, well, things would unfold as they would unfold.
“Commander?” asked one of the medics as he waved a device over the fallen human. “Can you hear me?”
Chakotay, the captain’s first, opened his eyes and nodded minutely. His eyeballs were dark with blood and the flesh around them was bruised. Liquid was dripping from his nose and ears. Ziv had seen depressurization damage before and knew the human would probably live if he was at least as tough as a Monorhan, though he would be in terrible pain until the bubbles in his blood subsided.
The second medic worked silently and skillfully, first injecting what must have been an analgesic because Chakotay’s painracked frame visibly relaxed. Even as they worked, the bald-pated doctor from the ship’s hospital bustled up and inserted himself into the process. “Commander Chakotay?” he asked. “Can you hear me?”
“I already said, ‘Yes,’ ” Chakotay said.
“It is me, Commander, the Doctor. We’re treating you for exposure to vacuum, sir. You should be fine in a few minutes, though you’ll be weak for a time.”
“Understood,” Chakotay croaked. “The Monorhans?”
“All fine, Commander. They had the sense to stay in the shuttle.”
“And Smothers?”
“Still in the shuttle, too, sir, though he appears to be unconscious. Commander, what happened? Why did you leave your ship? Didn’t you know the bay had no atmosphere?”
Trying to push himself up, Chakotay groaned. “Yes…. It just didn’t seem important.”
“Most of the ship has reported feeling muddled and confused, though I myself have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Ziv listened carefully to the exchange. He had gathered from the ship’s status reports (Diro had figured out how to get the ship’s computer to give them regular updates) that most of the Voyagers had been ill, but were better now. One of them had died in a peculiarly gruesome fashion and others were concerned the same might happen to them.
“You were in sickbay?” Chakotay said.
“Of course.”
“Deep in the ship,” Chakotay muttered, as if thinking aloud. “Sickbay and engineering are the best-shielded areas on the ship.”
“Correct,” the Doctor said.
“That might explain it. And the shuttlebay…”
“The least shielded,” the Doctor agreed. “I understand now.” The two medics had opened a pair of packs and assembled a stretcher. Now they wished to lift their injured commander onto it. “We’re taking you to sickbay now.” He glanced at the atmospheric indicator. “I’ll go check on Ensign Smothers.”
“Be careful,” Chakotay said softly, then moaned as he was lifted onto the stretcher. “The light…”
The Doctor’s eyebrows rose as he said, “Yes, Commander. Of course.”
Moments after the commander and the medical technicians disappeared into the lift, the airlock indicator turned green and a bell chimed softly. The doors parted and Ziv stood face-to-face with Sem. Behind her, the one called Morsa stood with a human—presumably Smothers—cradled like an infant in his