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Way The Wind Blows
Chapter Eight
Cold drizzle fell on Chakotay from a bleak sky as he walked down the mountain to the lake. He was following the same path he and Kathryn had followed the previous day, and had planned on following it until he came to civilization, but the deteriorating weather had forced him to change his plans. From his experiences as a boy, he knew that the changing moods of a mountain had to be respected. He'd learnt the hard way that a sun-kissed mountain could in minutes become a foggy death trap. Already he was surrounded by a mist that seemed to be thickening. Knowing it wouldn't be wise to continue walking in unfamiliar territory without so much as a tricorder to navigate direction, he had decided to take shelter in the castle until the weather improved.
By the time Chakotay reached the lake, the mist had turned into a thick fog and he could hardly see the ground beneath his feet. Diverting from the path, he used the water's edge as a guide to lead him to the castle. He took his time as the ground beneath his feet was stony and wet. The castle was built on a solid rock that rose up out of the lake, almost looking like a cliff. To reach the ruins from where he was, he would have to walk up a steep rocky slope. From the little that he could see in the fog, there seemed to be a narrow path winding up through the large rocks, perhaps a short cut made by servants in days of old. He decided to follow it and see how far it took him.
The path was harder to climb than Chakotay had imagined. The stones beneath his feet were uneven and very slippery, and sometimes he had to hold on to the tall rocks around him for support. When he was about two thirds of the way up the slope, he found that the winding path was blocked by fallen stones. They were heaped clumsily on top of each other, presenting a barrier of at least ten feet.
Using his trained Starfleet eye, Chakotay studied the stones to determined if there was a way to climb over them. To do so would carry some risk, but so too would going back down the slope and, as part of his Starfleet training, he had successfully overcome many a worse obstacle. Seeing a way over the stones, he threw his bag on top of the mound, and then carefully began to climb. In no time at all he was on top of the heap. He picked up his bag and carefully moved over the stones to the other side of the mound. The drop was less this side, but still considerable. Chakotay threw his bag to the path, and then began to climb backwards down the wall of stone. It was much harder climbing down than up because he couldn't see the stones below him very well and had to guess his footing. He put his foot into what he believed was a solid crevice, but the stone fell away, taking others with it. Chakotay tried to stop himself falling, but he lost his grip of the wet stones and slid to the ground. As his head hit the rocky path beneath him, he drifted into unconsciousness.
Only silence and emptiness greeted Kathryn when she emerged from her bedroom a little after 9am. Unlike the previous morning, she emerged fully dressed. She was wearing black dungarees over a pale blue sweater, her favorite black sneakers, and her hair was tied back from her face in a ponytail. She hadn't rushed to leave her room, but she hadn't prolonged leaving it either. As embarrassed as she was about what had happened the night before, she was eager to clear the air. Chakotay seemed to be a very mature and caring man. She was sure they could put the incident behind them and continue to enjoy each others company the way they had been.
The silence and emptiness was unsettling. She had expected to see Chakotay up and about, perhaps making breakfast as he had done the day before, but there was no sign of him, no sound. She walked over to the kitchenette and looked around, hoping to see some indication that he had already eaten breakfast, but there was none. She looked towards Chakotay's bedroom door, and saw that it was firmly shut. She walked over to the door and put her ear to the wood. Perhaps Chakotay was taking a shower or was getting dressed. But there was no sound coming from the room, none at all.
Slowly, hesitantly, Kathryn reached for the door handle and opened the door. She peeped her head inside the room and listened avidly as she looked around. But there was no one to see, nothing to hear. Pushing the door further open, she stepped into the room and looked in the direction of the bed. The sheets were ruffled, but there was no sign of Chakotay. She now turned in the direction of the bathroom. The door was open and there didn't appear to be anyone in the room. Wanting to be sure, she walked to the doorway and looked inside. There was no one there.
Kathryn averted her eyes as tears welled in them. Chakotay couldn't possibly be outside as it was wet and foggy. That could only mean one thing...his people had come for him and he was gone.
Pain was the first thing Chakotay became aware of as he regained consciousness. His whole body seemed to be hurting, but the agony was worse in his right leg. It took a moment for him to remember where he was, what had happened, but then it all came back to him. He opened his eyes, but had to shut them again as a bright sun momentarily dazzled him. The fog must have cleared. Slowly, he sat up, but cried out as a searing pain shot up his leg. He looked down and saw that his lower right leg was trapped beneath a large stone. From the terrible pain, he was sure it was broken. Panting from the pain, he reached over and pushed the stone away. As it rolled aside, he pulled up his trouser leg to look at his injury. His shin was bruised and horribly swollen. There was no doubt, his leg was broken.
Just a few inches away from him, he saw his bag. He reached for it, opened it, and took out a bottle of water. He was thirsty, very thirsty. His hands were bleeding from the roughness of the rocks he had held on to in the vain hope of preventing a fall, but he ignored the pain and the blood and opened the bottle. When he had quenched his thirst, he closed the bottle, put it back in his bag, and looked up and around his position. It wasn't far to the top of the slope, about twenty feet at most, and the pathway was clear. It was even less of a walk to the castle. If he could just make it to the ruins, he would have a place to shelter until he could be transported back to Voyager...if he could be. If not, he would at least be in a place where someone might find him and help him. All he needed was for someone to treat his injuries with a med kit.
Chakotay tied his bag to his shoulder and then forced himself to his feet. Pain again shot up his leg as he put weight on it, and instinctively he lifted his foot off the ground. Hopping, he closed the small distance between himself and a large bolder of rock, and leant against it for a moment, getting his balance and his breath. He then looked up at the path ahead and knew it was going to take a lot of time and a lot of effort to reach the top. He was going to have to hop and use the solid rocks beside him for support. But there didn't seem to be any other choice. He needed to find shelter as it could be days before any one passed this way. He didn't want to raise a general alarm by starting a fire because it would most likely alert the emergency authorities, and if they found him here, it could contaminate the timeline. There was nothing he could do except try and reach the castle.
Petunia wagged her tail happily as her mistress presented her with a large bowl of juicy meat chunks. As soon as the bowl was put before her nose, the animal began to eat them. Kathryn watched her dog for a moment, and then went over to the replicator.
"Coffee, black."
Instantly a cup of black coffee materialized. Kathryn picked it up and wandered into the living room. As she did so, she saw her rucksack tucked away in a corner of the room. She went over to it and picked it up. Then she put down her coffee, sat on the couch, and began to take out the remains of yesterday's food supplies from the rucksack. Rummaging through her bag, she found her packet of cigarettes. At the sight of them, a profound craving consumed her. Unable to resist their call, she opened the packet and reached for a cigarette. Just as she did so, Chakotay's face came into her mind, and with it all the things he had said to her. He had cared so much for her, more than she cared for herself. Clinging to the memory, she shut the cigarette box, took it over to the recycler, and watched as it disappeared.
Just as she was returning to the living room, she was startled by a knock on the front door. At the sound of it, Petunia abandoned her food and ran over to the door, barking defensively. Kathryn went back to the kitchenette, picked up her phaser, and went over to the door. She looked inside a small security monitor and saw that her unexpected visitor was Mark. His hair was as unkempt as ever and he seemed to be wearing a long beige raincoat over black pants. Glad to see him, she put down her phaser and opened the door.
Mark greeted her with a warm smile. "Hi, Kath."
"Hi to you too," she replied happily. "But what are you doing here?"
"I have the rest of the day off as a conference I was meant to be attending was canceled. I thought I'd drop by and see how you're doing."
"And I'm glad you have." She stepped aside. "Please, come in."
Mark entered the cabin and tried not to look at the now very welcoming dog at his feet.
"This is a real nice cabin, Kath," he said, looking around. "In a nice place too. I'm not surprised you plan on staying a while."
"I don't know," Kathryn answered. "I think I've stayed here long enough. It's time I got back to real life."
"Real life. Who's to say what that is? We've been discussing this recenty at the symposium. Is reality merely the inability to live our fantasy, or is fantasy merely the desire to experience someone else's reality?"
"I never thought about it that way," Kathryn considered. "Very profound questions."
"Definitely. Philosophy isn't just about abstract ideas, it's about the whole way we live our lives and the way we perceive ourselves. It's constantly questioning our assumptions and in doing so redefining them."
Kathryn smiled. "Sounds a lot like science." She gestured to the table on which her cup of coffee rested. "I was just having a coffee, would you like one?"
"No, thank you. I've just had a drink at the complex."
Kathryn made her way over to the couch and sat down. As she reached for her coffee, she saw that Mark was still standing. "Please sit," she said, gesturing to a chair opposite her. "Make yourself at home."
Mark went over to the chair and sat down. Petunia followed him and sat at his feet, gazing up at him in anticipation. Mark reached into his large coat pocket, pulled out a round doggie chew, and threw it to the dog.
"Oh, Mark," Kathryn laughed. "You don't have to feed her every time you see her. She won't bite you. You don't have to be afraid of her."
Mark shifted uncomfortably, somewhat embarrassed that she had figured out his trick. He didn't like dogs, not that much...or rather, he was afraid of them... and he had learnt over the years that giving peoples dogs treats, helped to keep them friendly.
"I'm just...I'm just not a dog person," he said. "I find this is a way of keeping them on side."
"Maybe too on side," Kathryn replied. "If they think they're going to get treats from you every time they see you, they're going to make a bee line for you."
"I suppose. But it makes me feel better...you know...to have something to give them."
"Well, Petunia's certainly not complaining," she smiled. The dog was chewing her treat happily, tail wagging.
"So," Mark said, changing the subject. "What have you been doing with yourself?"
Now it was Kathryn's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Oh, not a lot...this and that...Been down to the lake a couple of times and visited the local village..." She paused. "In fact, I was going to take Petunia down to the lake after lunch. You can come with us if you want."
"Yes, sure. I'd love to see the lake. But does the dog have to come? We could have a boat beamed to the lake and take a ride."
"A nice thought, but I don't want to leave her alone." She almost said "again" but stopped herself just in time. "And I've already promised her we're going."
Mark smiled. "I doubt she understood you."
"Oh but she does," Kathryn answered. "She's a real smart cookie and understands everything..."
Mark looked down at the dog, a rather regretful look on his face. "In that case, we'd better take her along. I'd hate to be the cause of disappointment."
Kathryn took a sip of her coffee. "We can go down in a bit. I just need to have something to eat first." After waking up to find Chakotay gone, she had lost the little appetite for breakfast she had possessed. She didn't want to walk all the way down to the lake on an empty stomach. "Have you had lunch?"
"No," Mark replied.
"Then I'll replicate you something too." She put down her coffee and got to her feet. "Cheese and pickle sandwich sound okay?"
"Yes. Great."
As Kathryn made her way back to the kitchenette, Mark's eyes were drawn once more to the dog at his feet. The animal had finished her treat and was looking up at him with gleaming eyes, waiting for more. Not knowing what else to do, he reached into his pocket and threw her another chewy.
It took Chakotay almost an hour to reach the castle ruins. He had stopped many times for a rest as he didn't want to over exhaust himself. He was already sweating profusely, and to sweat was to waste body water. Slowly, painfully, he made his way along the castle wall, holding onto the stone wall for support. After passing several windows, he came to an open arched doorway. He hopped over a small step that graced the entrance and made his way inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did, he found himself in a corridor that extended both left and right. He recognized the corridor. It was the one he and Kathryn had walked through to the circular room that contained the well. The room would be a perfect place to shelter. It was well preserved and he could use the water in the well to wash his bleeding hands. Slowly, he turned right and began to hobble down the corridor, using the wall as a support.
As Kathryn zipped up her now reorganized backpack, Mark looked out of the living room window.
"Do you think it will rain, Kath? The sky's kind of gray."
"The weather forecast says it should be dry all afternoon, but in this place, anything can happen. But you've got a raincoat on, you'll be fine."
Kathryn got to her feet and picked up her silver mack from a chair. The image of the mack brought Chakotay to her mind, but she forced herself to push him out.
Mark turned away from the window. "If it does rain, make sure you keep that animal away from me," he said, half serious, half joking. "I don't want to go back to the complex smelling of wet dog."
Kathryn put on her mack. "Don't worry. I've packed a leash. Petunia so loves to wander off and there's some dangerous spots down there for an inquisitive little dog."
Mark looked at Petunia, who was waiting impatiently to go outside. "I'd hardly describe her as a "little" dog."
Kathryn picked up her rucksack and fixed it to her back. "Then just wait until you see the neighbor's dog. You might change your mind."
Mark's face paled and Kathryn laughed softly. "I'm only kidding. The nearest neighbor is about a mile away and we won't pass any residence on our way to the lake."
Mark eased. "You had me going there for a minute."
Kathryn smiled. "Come on, let's get going before it's time to return already."
The water in the well was cold and soothing. After washing his bloody hands, Chakotay washed his face and let the refreshing water drip down his skin. He then lowered himself to the ground and sat back against the stone wall of the action hurt his bruised back, but he tried not to think about the pain. He looked around and realized that he and Kathryn had sat in almost this exact same spot the day before. But, without her, the whole place seemed different. It was so lonely and quiet.
For the first time since he had got to this time-frame, he began to think seriously about what had happened, the implications, and how he was going to get back to Voyager. Until now, he'd strongly thought that perhaps Kathryn was keeping him in this time-frame for as long as he needed to be here. After all, the temporal transporter made it possible for her to transport him to one point in time and retrieve him from another. In that way, he could spend weeks or even months in this time-frame but for only seconds to have passed on Voyager. But now he wasn't so sure. If that was the case, wouldn't he now be back on Voyager? Kathryn's younger self must have woken up by now, found he was gone, and come to the conclusion that his people had come for him. On Voyager, Kathryn would have transported him back, believing it was her place to do so.
Perhaps the first thought that had come to his mind when he had realized he was displaced in time was the correct one...that something had gone wrong. Perhaps none of this was ever meant to happen. Perhaps this having happened meant that the future he was from no longer existed. And if it didn't? What then? But if his future didn't exist, could he still exist?
He closed his eyes and tried to plot a course through his confused thoughts. For Kathryn to have sent him here in the first place, something like what had happened between them over the past couple of days must have been a part of her past. If that was the case, then he could safely write out the possibility that his temporal displacement was an accident, and safely conclude that she had deliberately sent him here to preserve history. If she had, he could only suppose that his continued presence in this time-frame was due to an unexpected problem with the temporal transporter. And, as the passage of time on Voyager had no bearing on the passage of time for him, his continued presence in this era had to mean the problem with the transporter was permanent. No matter how long it took B'Elanna to fix the transporter, he could be retrieved at any time from the same point in history.
This could only mean one thing...he would have to find his own way back. Somehow, he would have to get hold of a time-ship or a temporal deflector. How, exactly, he didn't know as such technology was illegal. But there were plenty of star-bandits and shady characters who could undoubtedly tell him where to find one if there was something in it for them. He would just have to find a way of penetrating their secret world.
But, first things first, he would have to be found. He only had enough food and water to last a couple of days, so if someone didn't find him before the end of the week, he would be in serious trouble. From what Kathryn had said, not many people came here, so he could be in for a harrowing time once his supplies ran out. But, the human body could survive on just water for a few weeks, so if push came to shove, he could drink the water in the well. It would be better to risk sickness than to die from dehydration.
In the meantime, he would try to get some sleep. In the absence of any medical relief, sleep might offer a temporary respite from the pain. He zipped up his mack and then positioned his bag so he could use it as a pillow. Then, he slowly lay on his back and made himself as comfortable as he could. He closed his eyes, focussed on some mind over matter meditation skills that his father had once taught him, and in minutes was asleep.
END OF CHAPTER EIGHT