String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [87]
B’Elanna felt a twinge of kinship. “Right. Engineers. We’re always kind of on the edge of things.”
“Indeed.”
“And you end up working out in the middle of nowhere on a project that no one wants despite the fact that it might save the world.”
Kaytok clicked his tongue in a manner B’Elanna took to be a laugh. “Yes, precisely. This is what happens. Except the project doesn’t really work and so I need help in the form of funny-looking visitors from the sky.”
B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It gets kind of old.”
“Seriously?” Kayok asked. “You’ve been in this situation before?”
Shrugging, B’Elanna said, “Saving the world? Yeah. I’ve been here before.”
“And that does not give you a good feeling? You are not gratified?”
“Of course. It’s great. Only…”
“Only what?”
B’Elanna hesitated. She rarely would consider discussing such feelings, especially with someone she barely knew, though there was something about Kaytok. “Only that sometimes I wish someone would save me.”
They walked several paces in silence and B’Elanna began to wonder whether she had broken some kind of taboo. Just as she was thinking of trying to offer an apology, Kaytok suddenly halted in his tracks.
“Kaytok?” B’Elanna asked, leaning down over him, one hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
Kaytok’s right arm shot out and closed around B’Elanna’s ribcage, instantly cutting off her air. She tugged uselessly at the Monorhan’s grip. Caught completely by surprise, B’Elanna had no breath in her lungs as he pulled her to the ground and the dark instantly began to creep in around the edge of her vision, until it closed completely.
Sickbay was crowded, but Harry managed to make a spot for himself in a corner near a computer station so he could watch the sensors. The Doctor stood nearby, fussing over his medkit, probably mildly resenting having his sanctum turned into a shelter. Harry noted with approval that the Doc was wearing his holoemitter, though when he thought about it, he realized they had no reason to assume the twenty-ninth-century technology was any more immune to the radiation.
Listening to the captain’s orders through his combadge, Harry watched the sensor feed as the deflector came online and the first of the torpedoes hit the twisted end of the bag. Then, without warning, a crippling, numb sensation enveloped Harry’s mind like a sodden blanket. Feeling the panel under his hands, he was vaguely aware that he was supposed to be doing something, watching something, but he couldn’t remember what or why or even how to keep his eyes focused.
“Mr. Kim?” Harry heard the Doctor speak, but could not lift his head to look around. “The shields must have collapsed. It’s much worse this time, isn’t it?” Harry’s knees buckled and his chin collided with the top of the panel. “My readings show sickbay is receiving twelve times more…”
Harry heard a clatter as something heavy fell to the deck. Dropping to his knees, he forced his eyes open and scanned around himself. There—to the left of his hand—something blocky and familiar: a medical tricorder. To his right he saw the Doctor’s feet shuffling around and around in tight circles. Emergency klaxons began to blare while beneath his hands, Harry Kim thought he felt the deck growing insubstantial.
In their assigned quarters, Ziv and his hara writhed on the deck, their minds roiling in torment. The Voyagers had warned them this might happen. The captain had even sent Neelix down to stay with them, and the hara had settled down to wait, Ziv at the center of a circle, all wishing they had something to do. The first time they had been exposed to the subspace radiation, none of the hara had felt anything worse than a mild tingle, but this, this was much more than anything Neelix or the others had described. The Talaxian fell to the floor, instantly unconscious. Jara and Shet cried out incoherently while Mol vomited. Ziv felt each of them drop out of the link, their