The Escape by Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch Page B
Authors: Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
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"Certainly," the first guard said, somewhat chagrined. He led them up the ramp. Kim brushed close to Torres. "What were you doing?" he whispered.
"You were right. They're just petty officials.
Lct's go somewhere where something can get done." "Bravo!" Neelix said.
The ramp leveled into the ship itself. Torres had been right. This ship was much smaller on the inside.
It had only ten seats in a circle around the wall, and six orange guards came along, including the original but not (thank heaven) the gossipy woman. The first guard gave Kim, Torres, and Neelix the seats in the middle. The six guards faced them, as the door slammed closed.
The seats were soft, but not too soft. Torres squirmed, trying to get comfortable, when the little ship shook slightly and seemed to lift, then settled almost as quickly back to the deck.
Torres's heart felt as if it had jumped into her throat. She swallowed hard. Calm, she repeated to herself. Calm. She tried to imagine Tuvok in this situation, and tried to imitate him.
"So tell me," Torres said as if the answer didn't matter to her at all, "how many years did we just travel through time?" The lead orange guard stood. "Exactly four hundred and forty-four million, five hundred thousand years$19 Torres felt her head spin and she took a deep breath. "What?" The door hissed open.
"How many zeros is that?" Neelix asked Kim.
Kim shook his head.
Neelix extended his right hand, counted his fingers several times using the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and then looked up at Torres. All the charm had 66 left his features, and for the first time since she had known him, his cheek hair stood out straight, and the spots on his skin looked livid. "I think," he said, "I finally understand how you and the other members of Voyager must feel being so far from home."
THE COUPLE GOING UP THE RAMP HAD THREE CHILDREN AND four times the maximum luggage for a warm-climate period. Drickel waited at the bottom of the ramp while the family separated the pieces of luggage, cheap mesh bags that would split apart before their trip was over. The mother ran down the ramp, carrying six bags to the transport, apologizing to the other passengers as she went. She dialed in her personal code, got it wrong, cursed, and redialed. When the bags disappeared, she ran back up the ramp, apologizing again, and then rejoined her family. Security, which watched for precisely that kind of violation, waved the rest of the passengers through. The shuttle was crowded although all the passengers had seats. Drickel leaned back in his chair, arms and legs crossed. Only a few people looked at his utilitariBe an uniform. They assumed, because his footwear was practical and his clothing drab, that he was a low-level bureaucrat. If they had thought about it, they would have realized that he had one of the more exciting jobs in the system.
But people rarely thought of that. The chances of running into the same person again were slim. So for the most part. everyone ignored everyone else.
The shuttle lifted and settled twice before Drickel's stop, but only a handful of people-most of them in orange jumpsuits-got off. He was heading for the main shuttle station of Period 889. Most of the people had got off up-line in times much more conducive comto family travel. He traveled the millions of years with his eyes closed. Even though he hadn't been on the shuttle in six-point-seven Real Time years, every movement of the shuttle was familiar to him. He could almost plot the course in his sleep.
When the shuttle landed in 889, Drickel disembarked alone. It didn't surprise him. No one had ever gotten off the shuttle in this Period with him, not in all the Real Time years he'd been a Watchman. As he walked down the ramp, he remembered why he disliked this station. He hated the air here. It was far too dry. It would be even worse where he was going. His nose always dried up and it was everything he could do to keep enough balm on his lips to
"You were right. They're just petty officials.
Lct's go somewhere where something can get done." "Bravo!" Neelix said.
The ramp leveled into the ship itself. Torres had been right. This ship was much smaller on the inside.
It had only ten seats in a circle around the wall, and six orange guards came along, including the original but not (thank heaven) the gossipy woman. The first guard gave Kim, Torres, and Neelix the seats in the middle. The six guards faced them, as the door slammed closed.
The seats were soft, but not too soft. Torres squirmed, trying to get comfortable, when the little ship shook slightly and seemed to lift, then settled almost as quickly back to the deck.
Torres's heart felt as if it had jumped into her throat. She swallowed hard. Calm, she repeated to herself. Calm. She tried to imagine Tuvok in this situation, and tried to imitate him.
"So tell me," Torres said as if the answer didn't matter to her at all, "how many years did we just travel through time?" The lead orange guard stood. "Exactly four hundred and forty-four million, five hundred thousand years$19 Torres felt her head spin and she took a deep breath. "What?" The door hissed open.
"How many zeros is that?" Neelix asked Kim.
Kim shook his head.
Neelix extended his right hand, counted his fingers several times using the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and then looked up at Torres. All the charm had 66 left his features, and for the first time since she had known him, his cheek hair stood out straight, and the spots on his skin looked livid. "I think," he said, "I finally understand how you and the other members of Voyager must feel being so far from home."
THE COUPLE GOING UP THE RAMP HAD THREE CHILDREN AND four times the maximum luggage for a warm-climate period. Drickel waited at the bottom of the ramp while the family separated the pieces of luggage, cheap mesh bags that would split apart before their trip was over. The mother ran down the ramp, carrying six bags to the transport, apologizing to the other passengers as she went. She dialed in her personal code, got it wrong, cursed, and redialed. When the bags disappeared, she ran back up the ramp, apologizing again, and then rejoined her family. Security, which watched for precisely that kind of violation, waved the rest of the passengers through. The shuttle was crowded although all the passengers had seats. Drickel leaned back in his chair, arms and legs crossed. Only a few people looked at his utilitariBe an uniform. They assumed, because his footwear was practical and his clothing drab, that he was a low-level bureaucrat. If they had thought about it, they would have realized that he had one of the more exciting jobs in the system.
But people rarely thought of that. The chances of running into the same person again were slim. So for the most part. everyone ignored everyone else.
The shuttle lifted and settled twice before Drickel's stop, but only a handful of people-most of them in orange jumpsuits-got off. He was heading for the main shuttle station of Period 889. Most of the people had got off up-line in times much more conducive comto family travel. He traveled the millions of years with his eyes closed. Even though he hadn't been on the shuttle in six-point-seven Real Time years, every movement of the shuttle was familiar to him. He could almost plot the course in his sleep.
When the shuttle landed in 889, Drickel disembarked alone. It didn't surprise him. No one had ever gotten off the shuttle in this Period with him, not in all the Real Time years he'd been a Watchman. As he walked down the ramp, he remembered why he disliked this station. He hated the air here. It was far too dry. It would be even worse where he was going. His nose always dried up and it was everything he could do to keep enough balm on his lips to
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