Surak's Soul - J.M. Dillard [4]
Death came too swiftly sometimes, Archer decided. He was an enormously lucky man; he had lived long enough to be able to do exactly what he wanted to do with his life…. Yeah, and Dad lived long enough, but was denied the one dream he had…. Archer forced himself to ignore the last thought. At least his father had had the time to create something of real value. But these people—they were stricken in midstride, without warning. Had they had the chance to achieve their goals?
He maintained silence, forcing himself to concentrate on the waiting survivors who needed their help; only Hoshi spoke, uttering a single plaintive remark.
“I only hope there’s someone left for me to try to talk to.”
No one replied—not even Phlox. The streets were still, quiet save for the sound of wind rustling through long leaves, and the cries of seabirds.
The landing party soon reached their destination: a building with shimmering, nacreous walls that coiled delicately skyward. Large windows overlooked the sea.
“Like a nautilus shell,” Malcolm Reed said as he stared upward, his tone hushed and reverent in honor of the dead. His chiseled, somewhat hawkish features—so distinctly British, Archer decided—stood in profile against the cyan sky.
Yet the building’s beauty belied the horror that waited inside. As Archer and his group entered, they were met by an eerie sight. In a large sun-filled room with a view of the sparkling beach, some sixty or seventy bronze-skinned people sat cross-legged on the padded floor—some fallen forward, faces pressed to the ground, others fallen back against the walls. All wore the same gentle, relaxed expression of the first casualty the away team had encountered.
Hoshi failed to entirely surpress a gasp; even T’Pol’s eyes, behind her visor, flickered for an instant as she steadied herself to do a quick scan.
“Survivors this way,” she said softly, pointing down a gleaming corridor.
Phlox turned his broad body directly toward the sight, absorbing it fully. “A shame,” he said. “A peaceful people, able to build such a marvelous city…and now, most of them gone.”
Archer put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find those survivors, Doctor.”
Phlox turned, shaking his head as he moved alongside the captain. “You read of such things happening in history, but you never wish to see such a thing yourself….”
Reed remained altogether silent, keeping his pistol drawn.
T’Pol led the way down the corridor; they passed several rooms, all of them filled with exotic-looking beds made of a shimmering gelatinous material that caught Archer’s eye, but there was no time left to stop and inspect them. Atop each one lay one, sometimes two, bodies; after a time, Archer stopped looking.
A moment or two later, the Vulcan said, with the faintest hint of something suspiciously akin to excitement, “Survivor, Captain. This room…”
They entered; Archer moved aside so Phlox could attend to his patient at once. Eagerly, Hoshi moved beside the doctor, in case she was needed to communicate. The alien—this one, judging by her more delicate features and smaller size, female—was partially encased in a bed composed of a blue-green gelatinous substance suspended in the air.
Phlox scanned the woman, then exchanged a knowing glance with T’Pol.
“What?” Archer demanded of the two.
Both paused, then Phlox spoke. “This woman has just died.”
“Another survivor,” T’Pol added swiftly. “Aproximately zero-point-one-seven kilometers down the corridor….”
Archer made his way into the hallway at a speed just shy of a full run; T’Pol outpaced him, leading the way as Reed, then Hoshi and Phlox followed. Two doors down, the Vulcan entered what appeared to be a large, fully equipped medical laboratory. Several suspended beds lay empty, but on the one nearest the entrance lay a patient—half covered by the body of another alien, who had apparently been standing over the bed when he was stricken.
The bed itself was glowing, phosphorescent, slightly pulsating; Archer could feel the warmth it emanated as he helped Reed lift the body of the male off the smaller, prone patient.