The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [56]
“If you want, we could relocate you and the Narsosians on the moon to—”
“The grounders!” Ontra’s down flushed a soft orange. “They were given up on long ago.”
“Just listen a second!” Realizing how loud he’d spoken, La Forge forced himself to take a breath. “If everything’s so great, why did we find a wrecked garden in orbit? Why are all the scramjets abandoned? Why hasn’t your population grown in six centuries? You can’t tell me you don’t need help.”
Ontra opened her mouth as if to yell back, then hesitated. Her down faded to white again, and when she spoke it was just above a whisper. “We’ve tried to live honestly, not like on Narsosia. But our resources are dwindling. “
“Ontra,” said one of the men as he walked up beside her. He was well over two meters tall, and his head rubbed the ceiling. “Please, don’t talk this way.”
She smiled at him, and when she put a hand on his shoulder, his down turned light tan. “Ruro, we all know it’s true.” Ontra turned back to La Forge. “There have been raids on the scramjets. The technology, nurseries, and gardens we used to share are now being plundered.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” La Forge said sympathetically. “We’re from the United Federation of Planets, which has a hundred and fifty members on thousands of worlds. We will freely share our resources with you. There won’t be any more raids. If you take me back to the elevator, you could speak directly with my captain. My crewmates might even still be there.”
Ontra turned away from him. The rest of the Askarians came forward and formed a circle with her. They whispered among themselves, too quietly for the translator to pick up. When they broke out of the circle, their down had turned light blue again, which La Forge hoped was a good sign.
Ontra said, “You recovered a ship?”
“Yes. It’s in orbit.”
“Thank you. Families were split up among the ships. There may still be descendants who wish to perform burial rites.” She looked away for a moment, then back. “I’ll take you to the lift. I just hope your crewmates are safe.”
La Forge couldn’t let go of Ontra, no matter how tightly the squid’s tentacles held him. When Ontra had said she’d take him to the elevator, he’d assumed they’d take the airship. But the airships, as their Askarian name said, just floated. They could be steered a little bit, like when they had rescued La Forge, but that was all. To go someplace fast or against the wind, you needed to take a flyer.
Ontra had gathered together five of her people, including Ruro. After suiting up, getting their comm systems to work together, and refilling La Forge’s oxygen tank, they’d crawled into the pink tentacles of six waiting flyers, with La Forge riding behind Ontra. The flyers had quickly spun their sails high into the air to catch the right wind. There was a lot of tacking and circling to avoid wind shears and lightning storms, and La Forge had finally done the VISOR equivalent of just closing his eyes.
“I can see the lift,” Ontra said. “There are two people on it, in suits like yours.”
La Forge reactivated his VISOR. Although it made his stomach lurch, he loosened his grip around Ontra’s waist so that he could lean over to look around her. He could see Troi and Worf on the platform, but there was something about the way they stood, almost back to back, that bothered him.
Then Ruro said, “Raiders!”
La Forge caught a glimpse of two other squids with riders circling down on the far side of the elevator, closing on the away team. That’s why they had taken a defensive posture.
“Take them,” Ontra said icily, and she urged her flyer forward. They