Part 14 (2/2)
For a moment Raul Oscaras looked weary and uncertain. Then he pumped up his chest and bellowed, ”Get out!”
Ro looked for Gregg Calvert upon leaving Oscaras's office, but he had evidently headed to his quarters in a great hurry. She didn't blame him for wanting to get away from her; she wasn't doing his case much good. She wandered aimlessly down a broad street with nothing left of the euphoric feeling she had had earlier in the day. All that remained was a hollow dread, a vague sense that matters were coming to a head-but not for the better. On this chilly gray day there was death in the air.
Thinking that she hadn't eaten since breakfast and that it was midafternoon, Ro made her way to the dining hall. She had no sooner selected a small salad and sat down to eat her meager repast than one of the researchers from the science lab pa.s.sed her table.
”Oh, here you are,” said the dark-skinned woman, who had scarcely spoken two words to Ro since her arrival. ”I checked your seismograph a few minutes ago. You might want to take a look. There are some strange readings on the midzone chart.”
The Bajoran bolted out of her chair. ”Thank you,” she muttered hastily, grabbing her salad and rus.h.i.+ng toward the door.
With the day's many events she had not set foot in the lab nor checked her readings once. As she dashed along the wide street Ro bawled herself out for negligence. Monitoring seismic activity was her primary mission on Selva, she told herself angrily-not outings to the beach, acting like a social worker, or tagging along with Gregg Calvert.
She charged into the lab past several startled workers and went straightaway to the instrument array she had a.s.sembled for her task. Jagged lines were streaking up and down the midzone screen, and she held her breath as she punched up the commands to a.n.a.lyze the data. The tectonic plates were s.h.i.+fting, registering between four and five on the Richter scale, and volcanic activity was up twenty percent. Whether that would turn into a major underwater eruption or temblor was still unknown. Data scrawled across a second screen, and Ro held her breath, waiting to see if the activity would jump to a higher level. It didn't- the graphs went back to normal, and the temblors a thousand kilometers away gradually subsided.
Ro breathed again and slumped back in her chair. No one else in the room, or on the entire planet, knew how close they had been to cataclysm. Even now Ro wasn't certain, because there was no historical data to tell her what effect an undersea eruption would have on the land ma.s.ses of Selva. Whatever it was, they had avoided it-for now.
Worf strolled through a gentler forest than the one on Selva. In this part of Ohio it was a bright day in early summer, and Klingon picnickers were spreading colorful tablecloths, throwing Frisbees, knocking around a softball, and performing other activities no real Klingon would ever do. Worf had to chuckle at the incongruity of the folksy Klingons, remembering how he had dropped them into the original holodeck simulation to make Turrok think that Klingons were ubiquitous. They were all over the Federation, it was true, but they would never be in this setting, doing these things.
He climbed the hill away from the picnic area toward the little dam overlooking the lake. Behind the dam, in the shallow pool, he saw a slim figure happily splas.h.i.+ng away. Worf felt certain Turrok was catching and eating more than his share of crawdads. The boy didn't see him until he had reached the edge of the pool.
”Worf!” he cried joyously. ”We are here! They let me come back!”
The lieutenant smiled and pulled off his boots. ”That is good,” he said. ”I'm glad you got to see this place again.”
”I want to live here forever and ever!” proclaimed Turrok, dancing around the rocks in the crystalline pool. ”I not bother anyone. I will eat crawdads and whatever I find. I will make friends with the other Klingons. Please tell them it is okay, Worf.”
Worf sat on the edge of the pool and dangled his feet in the water. ”You must go back to your own forest,” he said. ”We must both go back.”
Turrok pouted. ”No! I won't go! For one thing, Balak will kill me.”
”Balak is dead.”
”Dead?” muttered the boy with disbelief. ”The flat-heads?”
Worf shook his head. ”We don't know how he died.”
Turrok suddenly grinned. ”I think Wolm killed him. She is very brave. She hate him because he only want to kill.”
Worf replied, ”Klingons have a proverb that says, 'A murder is not worthy unless it is earned.'”
”I see,” said Turrok, sitting beside Worf on the concrete bank. ”Tell me about other Klingons. Are they like these below? Eating and throwing things to each other?”
”No,” said Worf. ”That's the main reason you can't stay here. This isn't real. It's an illusion-something that looks real but isn't.”
Turrok scoffed. ”I not believe you. I feel this water! I taste the food and sc.r.a.pe my leg.”
”All manipulation of forcefields, tractor beams, and replication technology,” replied Worf. He got an uncomprehending stare in response. ”Someday you'll understand how it works, but let me show you that it is an illusion.
”Computer,” he intoned, ”remove the Klingons from this program. No people at all.”
The hordes of laughing and playing Klingons that dotted the hillside and the picnic grounds vanished. They weren't swallowed up in swirling columns of light-they just ceased to exist. Turrok stared in awe. Then he looked down at the water splas.h.i.+ng over his feet and at the endless robin's-egg blue above his head.
”Is all life like this?” he asked numbly. ”All ... illusion?”
”The answer to that,” said Worf, ”is in the realm of philosophy and religion. Perhaps, with your experiences, you would make a good philosopher. In the days and weeks to come you will see many things that you may question. Always try to find what is real.”
”O'Brien to Worf,” came a voice over Worf's comm badge.
The Klingon tapped it to answer. ”Worf here.”
”All ash.o.r.e that's going ash.o.r.e,” called the transporter chief. ”We're pulling out of orbit in ten minutes.”
”Aye, Chief,” answered Worf. He patted the boy on the back and pulled his feet out of the water.
Turrok looked miserable. ”I not want to go back.”
”You have responsibilities,” said Worf sternly as he grabbed his boots. ”Someday, when the history of Selva is written, you will be one of the founders of a great civilization.”
”How do I do that?” asked Turrok, amazed.
Worf smiled. ”Just by making friends.”
O'Brien transported them to the coordinates of the sacred mound, and Worf fingered his phaser weapon until he got a good look at the surrounding scene. Nineteen young Klingons were eagerly devouring as much food as Deanna had managed to secure, and they scarcely paid any attention to the two new arrivals. Turrok's eyes lit up, and he ran over to join the feast. Worf strode to the crest of the mound, where Data and Deanna stood watching their ravenous luncheon guests.
”The way to a Klingon's stomach is still working,” said Deanna, smiling.
Worf shrugged. ”Until the food runs out.”
”There is another replicator in the village,” said Data. ”We could ask for their cooperation.”
”With your permission, sir,” answered Worf, ”I intend to walk in there tomorrow with all of them in tow. And they'll have to feed us.”
Deanna looked concerned when she said, ”Balak may be gone, but they still aren't prep students. We haven't gotten the whole story, but apparently Wolm stabbed him to death as he lay wounded.”
”He was a worthy opponent,” said Worf, ”but I didn't think Balak would live to an old age.”
”Picard to away team,” chirped a voice.
Data was the first to respond. ”Data here. Counselor Troi and Lieutenant Worf are with me. The Klingons are occupied with eating.”
”We're leaving now,” said the captain. ”We'll be six hours away, so the earliest we can return is in twelve hours. If you can, get into the village to report by subs.p.a.ce-I don't want to be out of contact for too long.”
”We'll make it into the village,” replied Worf. ”The mission is proceeding as planned.”
”Don't try to accomplish miracles,” said Picard. ”Just keep yourselves alive. Enterprise out.”
Deanna and Worf looked instinctively at the sky, seeing nothing but glowering gray clouds and knowing the Enterprise would soon be far beyond them.
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