Part 10 (2/2)

Worf's flashlight lit up the crude mud chamber as well as someone might care to see it, thought Deanna. She saw a chuck scurry away in a far corner, and the stack of sh.e.l.ls rattled. Deanna was suddenly depressed by the realization that this hovel was their home, and they had been fighting to protect it.

A voice broke into her thoughts: ”Picard to away team.”

Data answered, ”Away team here.”

”Data, what is your current status?” asked the captain.

”The mission is going satisfactorily,” answered the android. ”We have been accepted by Balak, leader of the Klingons, and we are standing with him now in one of their underground shelters.”

”May we speak freely?” asked Picard.

”Yes, sir,” answered Data. ”Thus far only Turrok and a female named Wolm are wearing comm badges. Balak will not be able to understand us.”

”I wanted to inform you that we are transporting a small party of colonists to the seash.o.r.e tomorrow morning. This probably wouldn't be the time or place to mix the two parties.”

”Understood,” answered Data. ”We will remain here and continue gaining their confidence.”

”Excellent,” said Picard. ”Out.”

Balak was staring at them curiously. ”That your G.o.d? Tell you what to do?”

”Only metaphorically speaking,” answered Data, ”not mythologically.”

The flashlight did little to warm the mud hole, and Deanna s.h.i.+vered and said, ”I would like to sleep outside. I've been looking forward to lying on all those leaves.”

”I will accompany you,” said Data. To Balak he explained in Klingon, ”Counselor Troi and I are going outside. Perhaps Lieutenant Worf would like to remain inside with you.”

Worf looked forlornly at the grim surroundings but said only, ”I may take a walk later.”

Deanna noticed a second entrance, but she preferred to traverse the one she had just come down. Who knew where the other one went? Data followed politely behind her.

”Use roots to pull yourself up!” Balak called after them.

The young Klingon smiled and tapped Worf's shoulder. ”Storm coming. You better off here.”

”I hope so,” said Worf doubtfully.

Balak looked up the light shaft to study a microscopic bit of sky. ”Yes, a storm,” he smiled. ”Good night to see G.o.ddess.”

”G.o.ddess?” asked Worf. ”You mentioned her before.”

”Not now, quiet,” cautioned Balak. ”G.o.ddess for me now-you later.”

After giving Data and Deanna enough time to reach the surface Balak shouted up the chute, and Wolm, Turrok, and several of the others came scuffling down, their new musical instruments in tow.

Worf sat with them by the light of his flashlight and answered their questions, marveling at how intelligent they were. He described the great Klingon Empire-all the fantastic cities that encompa.s.sed dozens of planets and the n.o.ble s.h.i.+ps that plied the s.p.a.ce between them. Then he talked a little about the Federation and the hard-won friends.h.i.+p between that loosely knit body and the empire. They couldn't grasp the concept of s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps very well, but they all remembered-in disjointed bits and images-a place that was different than the forest, a place that sounded like the cities Worf described.

Several youths came and went through the tunnel, gathering things for dinner: giant larvae, various greens, mussels, dried chuck meat, and some stale peanut b.u.t.ter sandwiches that were presented without comment along with everything else. Wort added a few delicacies from his pack, and the communal dinner grew to a respectable size before everyone grabbed a sh.e.l.l and waited to be served by Wolm. She did an astounding job of apportioning the meager helpings.

Worf noticed that at least half the tribe was topside, keeping guard, he a.s.sumed, or sleeping in other hutches. After dinner he excused himself to see his comrades, and Wolm and Turrok looked sadly after him, as if he might not return. The others were too busy inspecting the flashlight and enjoying the novelty of having light after dark.

On the surface Wort gratefully breathed cold air splashed with rain and whipped by a substantial wind. It was darker than below, but not so claustrophobic, so uncomfortably like being buried alive. He spied the light of another flashlight, lowered his head against the drizzle, and strode toward it.

Deanna was huddled in her sleeping bag under a tree trunk. She looked drenched and tired but determined to tough it out. Data stood a few meters away, peering up into dark branches; he looked thoughtful and content.

”h.e.l.lo, Lieutenant,” he said, not turning around. ”Does it remain dry in the hutch?”

”So far,” replied Worf. ”Drier than up here.”

Deanna shook her head. ”I'm sorry,” she said. ”I know it's irrational, but I can't stay down there.”

”Counselor, may I make a suggestion?” said Worf sympathetically. ”Why don't you return to the s.h.i.+p and give a full report to Captain Picard? I believe that, given time, we can convince the survivors to make peace with the colonists. But there's no telling how many days it may take.”

”I agree,” said Data. ”There is no reason for you to stay here tonight.”

Deanna stood, relief spreading across her face. ”You won't think I'm a-what did Wesley used to say?-a wimp?”

”No,” answered Worf, ”and if you don't care to go, I will. I think Captain Picard would value your a.s.sessment more than mine.”

Deanna smiled. ”Besides, you don't want him to see your face until it heals a bit.”

Worf self-consciously touched his bruises and cleared his throat. ”Please tell the captain that if we adhere to our present course of action, we may be able to persuade the survivors to accompany us to the settlement. But I don't want to request it until I know they will accept the idea.”

”Counselor,” added Data, ”please stress to the captain that we are not in physical danger.”

”I will,” she promised. ”Is there anything else we should tell him?”

”There is,” Worf whispered. ”Balak said earlier that tonight would be a good night for him to visit the G.o.ddess. When I pressed him for information, he would tell me nothing more about this G.o.ddess.”

Deanna recalled something. ”Wolm mentioned that he was seeing the G.o.ddess last night. But it could be something as simple as an altar or another mound.”

”We should follow him,” Worf declared.

”I should follow him,” Data replied. ”No offense, Lieutenant, but he may smell you, hear you, or otherwise detect your presence. In this darkness I will be able to see him clearly and follow him, and you would have difficulty. Also, I do not sleep and can watch the exit.”

”Very well,” grumbled Worf. ”Then I'm going back down there to try to sleep. I think it would be a show of good faith.”

Now it was Deanna's turn to be sympathetic. ”I'll beam down a few more flashlights for you, some food, and a couple more sleeping bags,” she offered.

Worf managed a smile. ”That would be useful.”

Data glanced around the murky forest and declared, ”My vision algorithms are adjusted for optimum performance. If Balak goes somewhere tonight, I will follow.”

Worf went back down into the hutch and talked with Turrok, Wolm, and a few of the others for a short time. Then the relative peace of the burrow began to soothe him. Turrok cuddled into his chest, Wolm cuddled into his back, and he found himself drifting off to sleep. The dim flashlight shone in a far corner for some time, then was extinguished. Before slipping into oblivion Worf was aware that people were going in and out of the burrow, and he recognized an effective revolving guard system. He slept contentedly after that, his nose getting used to the dark smells of earth and unwashed bodies.

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