To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [9]
He turned to Dr. Crusher. “Unfortunately, the troubles on Skerris IV began soon after the Miramik find.” “Tut’s curse,” Dr. Crusher murmured under her breath. It was still loud enough to be heard. This time both Mr. Data and Ambassador Lelys regarded her quizzically. She smiled briefly and said, “Just a story.
When the archeologists opened Tutankhamen’s burial chamber, some people claimed that their invasion of the site invoked a curse. Supposedly, when the Egyptian priests sealed the king’s tomb, they used magic spells that would destroy anyone who disturbed their royal master’s eternal rest.” “And this curse, is it truly just a story?” Lelys asked.
“Naturally,” the doctor replied without hesitation.
Counsellor Troi gave her a knowing look. “Is it?” she echoed.
Dr. Crusher colored slightly. “There were a number of incidents following the discovery of the tomb— tragedies touching members of the expedition—but as for hard evidence, well,” she shrugged, “people will believe what they want to believe and interpret facts to suit their own preconceived ideas. A romantic would choose to believe in the magic of an ancient Egyptian curse rather than in mere coincidence.” Before Troi could question her further about her own views on the subject, she quickly asked, “What happened on Skerris IV? A medical crisis, I know that much, but what are the specifics? Did the opening of the sealed data bank room release some sort of dormant microbes? We’ve handled similar cases on other worlds many times before this. A Federation medical team should have been able to take care of it easily.” Ambassador Lelys shook her head. “We contacted the Federation as soon as the first problems manifested themselves among the colonists. That was their initial analysis, soon proved wrong. My brother’s expedition hadn’t released any curse out of S’ka’rys’s past. In fact, if we hope to save our motherworld from a second obliteration of her children, the answer will Come from the Miramik find.” She signalled Captain Picard, who touched a control, altering the projection in the center of the table.
Now Dr. Crusher saw the face of an Orakisan woman.
“My brother’s wife, Vi’ar,” Lelys said.
Dr. Crusher studied the ravaged face before her.
i’ar’s hair was dull and brittle, her eyes lusterless.
Orakisan eyes were mostly composed of gloriously colored iris with only the smallest rim of white, but this woman’s irises had dwindled and paled until it was almost impossible to see them. Her skin was muddy gray, like tissue paper stretched over her bones.
“How old is she?” the doctor asked.
“A little younger than I,” Lelys replied. “I know it doesn’t seem possible, looking at her, but it’s true.” “Malnutrition,” Dr. Crusher concluded.
“Starvation induced, I’d say.” “So.” Lelys agreed. “And yet she eats well, plentifully. There is no shortage of food on S’ka’rys.” “To starve in the midst of plenty…” Dr. Crusher mused. “A metabolic disorder, then.” Again Lelys nodded, “Your Federation scientists concur. For some reason, the alterations necessary to allow our settlers to return to S’ka’rys had a disastrous side effect on their digestive systems. They are no longer able to extract the nutrients their bodies need from the crops they raise. Unfortunately, this effect did not become evident until it was too late, with too many Orakisans no longer able to live anywhere but on S’ka’rys.” She lowered her voice.
“To say nothing of their children.” “How—” Dr. Crusher couldn’t take her eyes off the tormented, haggard face of Lelys’s young sister-inlaw. “How many have died?” “Almost a hundred. Does it matter? Unless our mission succeeds they are all doomed.