String Theory_ Cohesion (Book 1) - Jeffrey Lang [88]
Without warning, Ziv felt a voice in his mind, the special twinge that meant the rih-hara-tan was communicating with him. But how? Ziv asked, struggling to focus his eyes. She’s not here. Even considering the special bond a rih-hara-tan shared with her shi-harat, mental contact from outside a room was impossible. And yet, he heard Sem in his mind. She had done something—something she had been pleased about, but now regretted as a mistake.
This is very bad, Ziv thought, pushing himself up off the deck. She did not like to make mistakes.
“What is wrong with all of you?”
Janeway heard the words despite the fact that she had her head down between her legs. She was vaguely aware that the lift doors had opened, and that someone had entered the bridge, but could not summon the will to look up. The exposure to the radiation in the subspace fold on the two previous occasions had been wrenching and unpleasant, but this time the effect manifested itself as a blinding, searing pain set directly behind her eyes and at the roots of her teeth. She started to count just to keep her mind working, marshalling all her resources to keep the numbers in order. I can take this, she thought. I can. “Tom,” Janeway shouted. “Are we moving?”
No answer. Janeway forced her eyes open and saw that the pilot was slumped over the helm console, his fingers feebly gripping the top edge so he wouldn’t slide out of his chair. Brilliant lights flashed on the main monitor as another of the preprogrammed array of torpedoes burst against the twist in the subspace fold. Dammit! she thought, and pushed herself up out of her chair.
“What is wrong with you?” Janeway heard again.
Someone—some idiot—was speaking to her. All around her, Janeway heard groaning and muttering, the sounds of men and women grappling with their agony.
In the periphery of her vision, Janeway saw that Tuvok was unconscious on the floor. Whatever is happening here is harder on him than it is on us. To her left, Chakotay was still moving. He was looking at her. No…past her. Janeway finally turned and saw only…light.
“Captain Janeway,” said a voice from the center of the light. “I demand you tell me what is happening!” Janeway felt another hand on her other shoulder. Both hands gripped hard and small bones crunched. Pulled up sharply, the voice from the light snapped at her impatiently. “Is this some sort of trick?”
How can a ball of light scream at me? Janeway wondered. The voice. She knew the voice. Janeway squinted against the glare and tried to shield her eyes, but could not lift her hands.
“And the noise!” the voice shouted. “Why does it have to be so loud?”
The klaxon was sounding again. How many times is that in the last twenty-six hours? she wondered. Three? Four?
The voice was still shouting: “You’re not listening! Tell me what is happening!”
How absurd, Janeway thought distractedly. A petulant ball of light. The idea that Q might have come for a visit slogged through her mind, but she dismissed it. No, the voice is wrong. Everything was wrong. She was so very tired, and her shoulders ached horribly where they were being gripped. Pain overcame exhaustion and she decided she had to break free. Kicking out feebly, she felt contact and heard a sharp “Oof!”
That worked, Janeway thought and decided it felt so good she would do it again. Setting one foot, she planted the other, half-turned, and jabbed, but felt her leg caught at the ankle and held in place. “Not there!” the voice shouted.
“Warning,” the computer intoned. “Autopilot has been disengaged.”
“Let her go!” someone cried. “You’ve done enough damage, Sem! Get away fom that interface!”
The ball of light shouted back, “They won’t tell me what’s happening, Ziv! I don’t think they can tell me what’s happening. They don’t know anything!”
Sem? Janeway thought, then lashed out with her free foot,