String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [33]
“If this tribe was searching for Gremadia, why didn’t they take the Key with them when they left?”
“I believe there was a dispute among members of the hara who had the Key. Not all of the members of the Fourteenth Tribe left the planet. Nor do I believe that the Key was required to gain access to Gremadia. Its significance was primarily as an artifact which imparted visions of the true nature of their gods to the ancient Monorhans.”
“Torres to Captain Janeway,” B’Elanna called over the comm.
Janeway sighed heavily before tapping her combadge to reply, “Go ahead, B’Elanna.”
“Are you available to come to engineering, Captain?” B’Elanna asked. “We found something you need to see.”
“I’ll be right there,” Janeway said, closing the connection and returning the padd to Seven. “For the moment the religious beliefs of the Monorhans will have to be set aside. I want you to show this to Commander Chakotay. I want teams organized before we reach the array to board it and gather as much data as we can.”
Seven nodded in acknowledgment.
“And Seven,” she continued. “As long as we’re stopping at the biggest fueling station in the quadrant, we should determine whether or not we can use this technology to replenish our own systems.”
“Agreed,” Seven replied.
Only after Janeway had left, en route to engineering, did Seven realize that the captain did not require her agreement. As B’Elanna would no doubt have pointed out to her, a simple “Yes, Captain” would have sufficed.
Tuvok was floating.
He moved through the air, held aloft by invisible hands. The pain was still present, but somehow, his mind was no longer engaged in the struggle to overcome it. He hadn’t accepted it. He hadn’t been able to lock it securely behind a door in his mind where it could be ignored. Logic dictated that the severity of his injuries should have rendered him unconscious long before now.
But he was awake; at least, he felt awake. He could feel his left leg dangling useless, though the hands were careful to hold it in place and prevent it from impacting anything that might cause it further damage as he was carried along. The sensation of movement in the absence of a fixed perspective caused his gorge to rise, so from time to time, he opened his left eye. Bright white light assaulted him the first time he made the attempt but after that he did catch periodic glimpses of a regular pattern of archways. He believed he was moving farther into the structure, but had no sense of direction to indicate where he was in reference to where his shuttle had entered the station. His mouth was filled with a pungent metallic-flavored liquid, which he associated with the taste of his own blood. A dull clanking sound met his ear at fairly regular intervals, possibly the result of a misalignment of some mechanism within the structure.
With so many of his sensory organs responding to stimuli that related specifically to what he knew of his present circumstances, he had to conclude that he was conscious. This made the fact that he could not see anything of the hands that carried him, or their owners, faintly disturbing. From what he could see, they didn’t even cast a shadow on the walls as they moved silently through the structure.
Finally, their journey came to an end. Tuvok felt a solid, slightly cushioned surface meet with his back. Slowly, he felt the ambient temperature begin to rise. This small comfort added immeasurably to a sense of peace within him. Unless the owners of the invisible hands possessed advanced medical technology, it was unlikely that they would be able to repair the damage to his body. But their efforts to make the last moments of his life as pleasant as possible seemed generous and well intentioned.
This belief in their benevolent nature was confirmed when a few moments later a light blanket was thrown over him, adding to his warmth.
He had not forgotten about the music. And the silence in his mind was as deafening as it had been the first moment he had become aware of its absence. But there