Part 12 (1/2)
A camera swiveled to watch her as she approached the door and pushed the buzzer. ”State your business,” said a synthesized voice.
”Ensign Ro to see Myra and Gregg Calvert,” she replied.
”Ro!” called a friendlier voice on the intercom. It was Myra. ”Wait there, we have the manual bolt on the door.”
Ro waited at least a minute. When she heard the bolt snapping back and the door opening she looked down to where she expected to see Myra. Instead she found herself staring into Gregg Calvert's muscular chest, which he quickly hid by b.u.t.toning his brown s.h.i.+rt.
”Sorry.” He smiled. ”Myra wasn't as together as she thought she was. Please come in.”
He stepped back and allowed her to enter an apartment that was doing its best not to look like an army barracks. But it was losing. Despite the personalized touch of some unusual plants, family photographs, and limp curtains, it looked about as homey as what it was-several metal utility shacks welded together. It reminded her of the places where the Bajora lived. The difference was, she reminded herself, that the Bajora lived in makes.h.i.+ft housing out of desperation-the humans lived here by choice. She didn't know for whom to feel sorrier.
”I wondered if I would be in time to have breakfast with you,” she explained, trying to sound cheerful.
”Sure,” he answered. ”How are you feeling?”
”Terrific!” she exclaimed, stretching her arms over her head. ”I feel like walking the twenty kilometers to the ocean.”
”Not too many people would give you odds on getting there,” Gregg said glumly. Then he forced himself to be upbeat. ”This is a great favor your captain is doing us. There's only so much you can tell about an ocean by looking at sensors. I sent the Enterprise some coordinates of tide pools that Doctor Drayton wanted to see, so that's where we'll go.”
”Does anything live in the ocean?”
”That's a matter of opinion,” chirped a voice behind them. Myra bounded into the makes.h.i.+ft living room. ”You'll see when we get there. I think it's alive, but Doctor Drayton's not sure. Of course, we can't agree whether it's animal or vegetable, either.”
”We were planning to eat at the dining hall,” Gregg told the ensign. ”Is that all right?”
”Lead on,” said Ro, smiling.
It was perfectly all right with Ensign Ro, but not so all right with Louise Drayton, whom they met outside the community building. She didn't say anything, but Ro felt the hostility bristling from her, just as it had the night before the mantis bite. Having survived a brush with death and the hallucinatory weirdness of her own mind, the Bajoran was in a mood to be forgiving. She had even convinced herself that the mantis bite was an accident, although she was curious to hear Doctor Drayton's opinion of it.
Ro studied the compact, dark-haired woman, think ing she didn't look her fifty-three years. Her personal dynamism made her seem youthful, spritelike, despite her tough att.i.tude. Ro had no problem with outspoken and opinionated people, because she was one of them herself. But bigotry rankled her, because her people and family had suffered so much from it. That made it even harder to accept the fact that an intelligent woman like Doctor Drayton wouldn't give her a chance, for no apparent reason except bigotry. She resolved to make a project out of Drayton, thinking that if she could win her over, she could win over any of the colonists.
But she couldn't resist asking Drayton the foremost question on her mind. As they filed into the cafeteria line Ro remarked, ”That mantis bite really gave me a scare, I can tell you. Myra tells me you're an expert on the pit mantis. I would welcome hearing anything you could tell me about it.”
”I'm sorry,” muttered Doctor Drayton, looking sheepish for the first time. ”That bite might have been my fault. I don't know how, but one of the mantises escaped from its terrarium. They're devilishly clever, and strong. They've bitten and punched holes through several tough grades of metal screen.”
Drayton averted her eyes from Ro's. ”I can't help liking them,” she admitted. ”That's probably why I keep too many of them. They're highly venomous but, fortunately, very territorial-they never travel in swarms. I don't think a person would last long if bitten by a swarm of them. I call this species a pit mantis because it has a heat-sensitive pit above its mandible, something like a pit viper.”
Drayton caught herself, as if she was talking too much. ”I do apologize for your illness,” she said, ”although I did tell you the lab was unsafe for sleeping.”
”How close to death was I?” asked Ro with frank curiosity.
”That was an adult female that bit you,” replied Drayton, as if that meant something very serious.
”Bit her twice!” Myra interjected from behind them.
Drayton nodded. ”Thank you, Myra. That certainly would have killed a child or a person in less than perfect health. I'm not a medical doctor, but I understand your s.h.i.+p's doctor did an excellent job keeping your blood pressure and temperature in acceptable ranges ... for your species.”
”That she did,” agreed Gregg Calvert. ”We were all impressed with Doctor Crusher.”
Ro smiled, her outlook brightening by the moment. It was her turn at the food counter, and she gratefully took a large portion of hot cereal and a dish of applesauce. There were a few rude stares from the kitchen workers and other diners, but not too many. Ro felt she was making progress, at least by her own measure.
”I'm looking forward to seeing the ocean,” Ro remarked as they took their seats at a family-style picnic table. ”I've been studying it for days now, but that's not like seeing it with your own eyes.”
Gregg chuckled. ”Myra and Doctor Drayton wax rhapsodic about that ocean, but it looks sort of eerie and barren to me.”
”Dad, it can't support life, but it does!” countered Myra. ”That's what's so neat about it. Doctor Drayton, please pa.s.s the b.u.t.ter.”
”Here, child,” muttered Drayton. ”There may be life in that ocean, or rather on top of it.”
”Under it, too,” said Ro. ”There's some impressive seismic activity in those depths. I know it must look like a lot of brackish water to you, Gregg, but that ocean is one of Selva's main tourist attractions. That's what I feel like-a tourist. I just want to see the sights.”
Everyone chuckled, even Louise Drayton. Ro took a big bite of cereal and munched it happily.
”The euphoric feeling after a bite from a pit mantis is one of its most curious aftereffects,” observed Drayton. ”Enjoy it while it lasts, Ensign Ro.”
”I guess I do feel pretty good,” said the Bajoran. She finished the rest of her food in record time. ”I'm going to get seconds,” she announced.
”Increased appet.i.te,” nodded Louise Drayton. ”Typical.”
”I'll go,” said Gregg, standing quickly. ”I'm hungry this morning, too, and it didn't take a bug bite. I agree with you, Ro, it'll be nice to see something besides these four walls.”
”That reminds me,” said Louise Drayton, wiping her mouth, ”I haven't packed. How much time do we have?”
”Half an hour,” answered Gregg. ”Please don't bring too much, Doctor-a canteen, a tricorder, some specimen jars. We may have to move quickly. Oh, and bring your phaser.” He looked pointedly at Ro. ”Everyone but Myra will be armed.”
That took some of the l.u.s.ter off the morning, and Ro thought about protesting. Then she remembered the man who'd been overpowered in the guard tower a couple nights earlier. ”Set to stun,” she replied.
”Ensign, you look great in our clothes,” said Gregg with a sly smile. ”But I'm glad you're wearing your communicator badge, in case we have to contact your s.h.i.+p.”
”You don't take much for granted, do you?” asked Ro.
”No,” said Gregg Calvert. He took her bowl. ”I'll be right back.”
Myra beamed at Ro. ”He likes you.”
Drayton stood brusquely and declared, ”I'll join you in the square at nine o'clock.” She stomped off.
Myra looked after the departed entomologist and giggled. She whispered even lower, ”I think she likes my dad, too, but she's never done anything about it. I know he'd be surprised to hear it. I like you better, anyway.”
Ro mildly scolded the girl. ”You shouldn't take such an active interest in your father's personal life.”
Myra shrugged. ”Why not? What else is there to do around here?”
Gregg Calvert returned to the table, set down the plates, and brushed a strand of blond hair off his forehead. ”I'll let you two finish breakfast,” he said. ”I want to make sure your s.h.i.+p has the right coordinates.”
”You're really nervous about this, aren't you?” asked Ro.