"Is it my imagination, or is it getting easier?" Sulu
said.
"Does that - mean - we're going - in the wrong
direction?" Darson said.
"Let's see." Sulu said. He crawled the other way along
the corridor far enough to establish that it was no
more difficult than the way they were going. "I don't
think so. Let's keep on this way. Maybe - the
gravity is fixed. Or whatever."
The floor grew closer and closer to level as they went
on, until they were able to stand and walk almost
normally. Sulu wiped sweat from his eyes and kept a
look out for any new materialisations of horror, but
apart from some stains on the walls and scattered
equipment nothing appeared.
The voices made them all jump.
"- and was Jerusalem, builded here. Among these dark -
"
"Uhura?" Sulu called, caution to the winds. After a
moment she appeared at the corridor's end, leading a
ragged group of crew. All were singing, and when their
voices faltered at the sight of Sulu and what was left
of his team Uhura furiously motioned to them to
continue.
"Bring me my bow," they chorused obediently, "of
burning gold, bring -"
"What on *earth* - " Sulu said.
"It keeps - the nursery rhymes away." Uhura said
beneath
the voices.
"Bring me my spear, oh clouds unfold -"
"Nursery rhymes?" Sulu asked. That was a new one.
"You didn't have nursery rhymes?" Uhura asked.
"No. We had -" He stopped. "Well, anyway, not nursery
rhymes."
"We had nursery rhymes." Uhura said grimly.
"Mental strife - nor shall my sword sleep in my hand -
"
"Do you know which way to go?" Darson asked?
"We started working towards the shuttle-bay." Uhura said.
"But we seem to be getting closer and closer to the
centre."
"Is that where all this is coming from?" Sulu asked.
"I guess."
"And did those feet, in ancient times. Walk over
England's..."
"Well, we may as well see what's to be seen." Sulu said.
"And was the holy lamb of god, in ..."
They started off again, forming one group. "You know,"
Sulu said after a few moments, "this song is really
beginning to get on my nerves."
"You wouldn't say that," Uhura told him, "if you'd heard
the nursery rhymes."
"No." Sulu said thoughtfully. "No, I guess not. It's not
as bad now, though, is it?"
"No. Maybe the captain got through and did something.
Stopped it, whatever it is."
"Maybe. Or maybe whatever it is - maybe it's just
concentrating on something else."
"I prefer my version." Uhura said.
"So do I."
Madison heard the noise in the corridor. He got up off
the bed in one swift movement and opened the door.
The corridor was full of people - *not* crew, he realised
instantly, even off duty and out of uniform. Not, his
experience told him, spacers of any kind at all. Too soft,
too loud, too -
~Angry.~
He shut the door and hit the lock. The comm. was not a
model he was familiar with, but the largest, reddest button
looked promising.
"Main board." a voice said.
"This is Chief Madison down in your guest quarters,"
Madison said. "There's a whole bunch of people out in
your corridor that aren't supposed to be there."
"Ah - sorry, say again?"
"I said, This is Chief fucking Madison down in your
fucking guest quarters." Madison said. "You have a
problem, matey. There's a whole shitload of angry civs
in the corridor outside my door and I'm guessing that's
not where they're supposed to fucking be."
"Thank you for the information." said the disembodied
voice. "Main board out."
Madison supposed that the stick-up-the-arse Enterprise
crew would at least have the common sense to check it
out. He slipped to the door again and stood listening.
Nothing, now. The door slid open to reveal and empty
corridor.
Two quick steps back to the desk and he picked up the
amulet and fastened the chain around his neck. Nothing
here that looked like it could be used for a weapon. Even
the chair looked flimsy.
There had to be an emergency locker around here
somewhere. And in it, there had to be breathing masks,
medical kits - and tools.
A wrench, now. Duralloy, preferably, but he'd settle for
what he could get.
It might not be his ship, but it was the ship he was on.
He might not be Starfleet, but he was still an engineer.
Engineers took care of ships.
And they damn well took care of any fuckers who tried to
hurt the ship, too.
The woman crawling across the floor was not Corrina
Larssen. Corrina Larssen had a past, that stretched back
to early memories of dormitories and ward-mistresses.
Corrina Larssen had a future, less concrete but still
there, that stretched forward in hopes and aspirations
and dreams. Corrina Larssen was the combination of
desire and memory, of hope and grief, that constitutes any
sentient being.
~One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! Don't waste your
time in dreaming of heaven! Eight nine ten eleven twelve
thirteen! Heaven's here and you don't need to dream! One,
two, three, four ...~
The woman on the floor was a combination of nothing.
There was only the instant, and the next instant, and the
one after that, coming without expectation and vanishing
without memory.
Still, she went forward. Without thinking, she went
forward.
~Stop! Stop there! Lieutenant Corrina Larssen, stop, stop it!~
~...five, six, seven! Don't waste your time ... your time
... your time ... in dreaming of heaven! Eight nine ten
eleven twelve thirteen! Heaven's here ...~
Hazy days of harvest and the sun on her back and neck
flew at her, but they were the past, and the past has no
place in the present. Images of captain's pips on her collar
taunted her, but the future can't be counted on. ~Only the
present is certain. Only the now is real.~
~Stop, stop, stop!~
The voice screamed in her head but there was no
understanding for it to connect to. Orders, pleadings,
promises, dissolved into single words that she had
forgotten before they were fully said.
She went forward.
Plunged in a bath of agony, she whimpered and sobbed
and forgot the cause instantly. Pain that could not be
endured for another second was endured a nano-second
at a time.
She reached the bench and staggered to her feet. In front
of her was a child, eyes filled with tears, holding out her
arms to be picked up.
"Please." said the child. "Please, help me."
~ ...and you don't need to dream! One, two ... one, two ... one,
two three, four, five, six, seven! Don't waste your time ...
Don't waste your time ... Don't waste your time ...in
dreaming ... ten eleven twelve thirteen ... you don't need
to ... to ... to dream! ~
The woman reached out and took the child's face between
her hands.
"Please help me."
For a moment the room was still, as the woman looked at
the child and the child looked back. Her own breathing
loud in her ears, the woman waited, without expectation,
without planning, without thought.
Then she moved.
"No, Lieutenant Corrina Larssen, no! No! Stop! *Stop*!"
Methodically, the woman slammed the child's head
against the wall, once, twice, three times. Again. Again.
Again. If she heard the screaming, the crunch of bone,
if she noticed the blood and brain matter spattering her
hands and arms and face, she gave no sign. Again. Seven
times, eight, nine. Again. Again. Again.
~One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! Don't waste your
time in dreaming of heaven! ~
Again.
Again.
Again.