Chapter Eleven
"Deanna!" Riker yelled as he watched her falling further away from him and nearer to the river below. Riker leaned over the side of the rope bridge, the rope cut into his skin.
Data and Geordi crouched over the gap in the bridge. They could just make out the form of the Doctor as she screamed and fought against the air that whirled about her.
"It is approximately two hundred and twenty-nine feet from this bridge to the waters surface," calculated Data.
"Can they survive a fall like that?" Geordi asked.
Data raised his eyebrows sceptically and Strail felt a nauseous churning in his stomach, then he realised that the Doctor had stopped shouting.
All three men leaned forwards, straining to hear any noise.
After a moment of dread came the unmistakable sound of splashing water.
Data pulled out his tri-corder and scanned for life signs. "They are both alive," he reported.
Relieved, Geordi and Riker grinned at each other.
"They're alive, but they could be injured," stated Riker. "Monitor their movements – somehow, they have to reach the temple."
Beverly was falling backwards into nothing. Her ears filled with terrified screams - screams she soon realised were issuing from her own throat.
The void that surrounded her seemed endless, it engulfed her in its vastness. Her arms and legs struck out helplessly and her vision blurred with the speed of her decent.
She hit the water legs first. She heard a ferocious slap. It rang in her ears as she was dragged underwater. A strong force pulled her deeper and deeper downwards. The temperature of the water chilled her bones, her mouth was open - to breath or scream - she didn't know which.
Every muscle hurt, it was as if she was stuck in slow motion. The water curved every move she made. Her eyes were open but all she could see was her own hair webbed about her face and the faint out line of white air bubbles floating upwards. She sank further downwards, her lungs wanted to collapse under the pressure of water gashing into them. She closed her eyes in resignation.
Deanna dove headfirst into the water. Swimming downwards into the murky depths of the river, her eyes were wide open, searching for signs of the Doctor.
Troi's clothes flowered around her, slowing her down. She needed to find Beverly - she couldn't return to the surface without Crusher, but her own lungs were betraying her.
Deanna looked wildly around her, then caught sight of auburn strands of hair. Troi reached down and clutched at the hair. Violently she wrenched it upwards. It was a lifeless looking Crusher. Deanna hooked her arm under Beverly's chin and swam towards the surface.
Troi was starting to feel dizzy, she clung tighter to Beverly; not wanting to lose her friend if she should suffer disorientation upon resurfacing.
The surface was so close, almost there, just hold on, Troi willed herself. Her right hand stretched towards the surface, as if that would bring her closer to it.
Finally Deanna sprang from the water. The air chilled the water against her face. She instantly began to cough and splutter as she took in deep gulps of air. She pulled Beverly's head above the water and headed towards the shore.
"Beverly, don't you die on me now!" Deanna pleaded.
Troi swam over to the riverbank with Crusher in tow. She clambered onto dry land and lifted Beverly up beside her. She administered C.P.R. Beverly's eyelids flickered briefly.
Deanna pushed the Doctor onto her side, putting her in the recovery position then leaned over the limp figure of her friend.
Beverly suddenly gasped for oxygen.
"Come on Beverly, you can make it!" Troi muttered, breathless with the physical exert she had just performed.
Crusher coughed again, bringing up water. Her eyes flickered open, another mouthful of water drained from her lips and she groaned.
"Thank god you're alright," whispered Deanna.
Beverly rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up.
Deanna watched her friend cautiously.
"What happened?" murmured the Doctor, still dazed.
"We escaped the rope bridge," Deanna stated.
A look of remembrance crossed Beverly's face. She recoiled from Troi. "You tried to kill me!" she shouted.
"I tried to save you – and I did," Troi claimed defensively.
Crusher pulled herself unstably to her feet and swung her arm out to hit Deanna.
Troi ducked.
"I nearly drowned!" the furious redhead yelled, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. She swung for Deanna again, but Troi ducked and Beverly stumbled.
"Are you crazy?" Deanna yelled back.
Crusher slumped to the ground, she was physically drained - emotionally tired and soaking wet for the second time that day.
"No, I'm not crazy - you're the lunatic!" snapped the Doctor.
Troi stood with her hands on her hips and a perplexed expression on her face.
Beverly was equally as frustrated. "What were you thinking? You endangered both of us - we could have died, then where would that leave our people? Think more rationally next time!"
Em'Lork nodded, acknowledging As'Lork's advice.
Deanna took a step towards the Doctor. "We can't stay here much longer," she stated.
She offered her hand to Beverly who accepted. Troi pulled Crusher to her feet. Beverly was cold and her clothes were sticking uncomfortably to her skin. She tugged at the material to loosen it, Deanna did the same. The sun still shone brightly and they knew they would soon dry off. Deanna shaded her eyes to take in their surroundings. There were three options – 1) climb up the cliff face 2) get back in the water and swim further downstream or 3) walk along the riverbank and take a winding road back up to the top of the cliff.
"We should follow the river further downstream and then take a road leading to the backstreets of town - they won't be expecting us to approach the temple from behind," suggested Beverly.
Troi nodded and they then began their journey.
The fatigued pair had been travelling for less than an hour, they were following a gritty road that wound slowly up the cliff side. The sun beat down on them without consideration, both were hot and sweaty, their clothes had dried and not a single person or vehicle had passed them. The scenery was a blur of greenery - trees, bushes and flowers merged with sand and water.
Both women's minds were concentrated on how to get into the temple. The guards would probably let them pass, if they threatened them with death or a plague on their family. But the physical forms they inhabited were weak, they could be damaged easily, making them unfit to perform the ceremony effectively. It would be safer to have a plan.
Data's eyes were fixed on his tri-corder. He was carefully following the progress of Crusher and Troi's movements. They had been on the move for over an hour.
"It appears they are attempting to come at the temple from behind," observed the android.
"Is there any way we can cut them off before they reach the temple?" inquired Riker.
Data ran the suggestion through his posotronic brain. "Yes. I believe so sir," he concluded.
"Then take us that way Data, I have a plan," instructed the Commander.
The wheels in Riker's brain were turning. Personally, he couldn't see the problem with Turpara 11 being governed by women. If anything, the idea was rather appealing to him. But when the past of the Turparian people was taken into account, he could understand their resistance to it. It might take some time for their dubiousness to subside but he was sure that when it did, they would realise the prejudices they held were unfounded. However, his main concern was getting Geordi, Deanna and Beverly back to the ship. The Turparian's could sort out their own political problems without the Enterprise's assistance.
He wanted to strike a deal with Em'Lork, it would be risky but well worth it if she honoured her part of the agreement. He was positive that she would take up his generous offer, he had seen Em'Lork's type before; they would do anything to further their own cause.
Johnson was not having a good day. In fact, he decided, this could well be the worst day of his life. He had another shift on the Bridge and he was certain that Picard hated him. What he needed, after all his trials and tribulations was a stiff drink, so he headed for Ten-Forward.
When he entered the bar was half-empty. Gunian was busy collecting glasses and wiping down tables.
Johnson approached the bar and sat at the counter, waiting to be served. Guinan was alone and when she caught sight of him, she moved towards him.
"Could I have some whisky please - Oxtradid parpoxian homridge calius frotaraakia," requested the Ensign.
"No," stated Guinan calmly.
Johnson blinked, not sure that she had actually refused his request. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Guinan beat him to it, declaring, "We don't have any whisky, especially not Oxtrad whisky."
Johnson looked disappointed.
"It leaves a nasty after-taste in the mouth and causes irrational behaviour - possible hair loss and so we no longer serve it here," she declared.
"It does not!" Johnson exclaimed.
Guinan raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"I'm from Oxtrad, I ought to know!" Johnson defended his planets whisky.
"You're from Oxtrad? A native?" Guinan inquired.
Johnson nodded.
"Get out! Leave before I call Security!" she ordered.
Johnson was too astonished to protest and so he left. He was puzzled by her behaviour, all he had wanted was a drink, was that too much to ask?