String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [68]
“They know too much,” the fast talker chattered in a rapid burst. “They were looking at the generator! If these aliens make it to Araxs and tell the rih-hara-tan, she won’t be able to ignore us anymore! Soldiers will come no matter how much she wants to pretend we don’t know anything!”
“We don’t know anything,” B’Elanna protested.
“Kill them or they will betray us!”
“I don’t even know what you look like!”
“I do,” Seven said, her only contribution to the conversation.
“Shut up, Seven!”
“You are not affiliated with the Emergency Council, are you?” Seven asked.
“Kill them!”
B’Elanna felt the boss shift his weight and heard the low whine of the portable generator grow more shrill. “No,” he said slowly, “we’re not part of the Emergency Council. And you,” he concluded, “might very well be spies.”
Sem clicked loudly twice and every Monorhan in the dining room sat up straight, spines rigid. As one, the Monorhans stood up and pushed their chairs away from their seats, though Morsa maintained his grip on his plate of lasagna. Sem said formally, “Thank you for the meal, Commander, and for the conversation. We will be returning to our quarters now. My people have had a difficult day and require rest.”
Chakotay stood and moved to block the exit from the conference room. “I think I need to know what Captain Ziv meant by his last statement.”
“Captain Ziv,” Sem said flatly, “is overwrought. You, of all people, must understand what it means to lose a ship and a crew. He does not know what he is saying.”
The mountainous Morsa took a half-step forward, but Chakotay crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to know,” he said slowly, “what Captain Ziv meant.”
Sem stared at him for several seconds as if slightly puzzled by his response, then turned her gaze back to Ziv. Voice pitched high, as if she were speaking to a child, she asked, “Ziv? Do you have anything else to say?”
Ziv appeared to struggle to tear his eyes away from Sem’s, but could not. Haltingly, he replied, “No. Not…I…have nothing…” Gasping, he finished, “Good night!” Then, Ziv and his hara briskly filed out of the room. When the doors closed behind them, the two remaining Monorhans relaxed, though Sem appeared taxed and woozy.
“I’m going to have to report this to Captain Janeway,” Chakotay said.
“Do as you please, Commander,” Sem said imperiously. “After all, we are in your power.”
“You’re our guests,” Chakotay said. “But no one enjoys having their hospitality abused.”
Sem considered this, then looked up at Morsa, then down at the plate still held in his hand. “I believe Morsa would enjoy more of your hospitality. Is that right?”
Morsa nodded, then sat. A second later, the sounds of chewing once again filled the small room. “There you are,” Sem said to Chakotay. “Someone to interview.” With that, she pushed her own chair under the table and swept out of the room. Chakotay and Neelix watched her leave, but as soon as the doors closed behind her, their eyes were drawn to the sound of relentlessly grinding jaws. A very long minute passed while the Monorhan finished chewing and swallowing.
Slowly, Morsa lifted his napkin to his mouth and daintily patted his lips. Then, lowering his hands into his lap, he locked eyes in turn with Neelix then Chakotay and, speaking slowly, in a low, unexpectedly gentle voice, he asked, “What would you like to talk about?”
Seven of Nine pushed herself up on her elbows and addressed the group’s leader. “We could be spies,” she said. “But consider this: If we come from a superior culture, why resort to spying? You have seen our technology: the translators and our scanning devices. I suspect you have attempted to use our weapons. Correct?”
The leader pulled a phaser out of one of his many pockets. “This, you mean? We could not operate it.”
“A safety device prevents anyone but Lieutenant Torres or myself from operating it; however, carelessness could damage the power supply, which might result in the destruction of this structure.”
The leader clicked softly, then slid the phaser with respectful care