DS9 - The Left Hand Of Destiny 2 (b) by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek [Star Trek]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Tags: \Star Trek
Published: 2011-01-02T08:00:30.137000+00:00

Martok floated in a wine-dark sea, his arms and legs dancing in the waves like inflatable buoys. There was neither sun nor moon, but a diffused, leaden light filled the air, coloring everything—sky, sea, Martok himself—a uniform shade of somber gray. Though Martok had never feared the ocean, he had never trusted it. With a wild diversity of creatures lurking just under the surface of the Klingon seas, he knew that floating around in a horizonless gulf should concern him. Yet he felt relaxed and at peace. His arms and legs felt simultaneously heavy and light and he was not in the slightest bit worried about swallowing seawater or drowning. Were it not for the nagging sense that he was supposed to be elsewhere, about important business, Martok felt sure he would be forever content to skip along the tips of the rolling waves.

Without warning, the sea beneath him churned and the waves rolled upward into a peak as if a mountain were growing up underneath him. Martok slid down the slope, his body rigid, slashed beneath the surface, bobbed up like a cork, then swirled in the churning surf. Blinking the water from his eye, he turned his head and saw there was a mountain floating beside him, a sinuous mountain covered with silver-gray scales and edged with razor-sharp fins. He was too close to take in [166] the whole thing, but he knew he was looking at a leviathan, some kind of immense serpent from prehistoric depths. Martok saw its gaping maw and its tremulous gills and wondered how many seconds would tick past before the creature decided it was hungry. Strangely, this thought held no particular terror for him; he was simply impatient for whatever was going to happen next to happen.

Glaring down at him with one of its unblinking eyes, the creature asked, MARTOK? IS THAT YOU?

This was not precisely the question Martok had been expecting, but since it’s never a good idea to be rude to a gigantic sea beast, he said, Yes. I’m Martok”. Who are you?

The serpent’s slitted eye rolled heavenward and it replied (rather testily, Martok thought), MY NAME HAS NO MEANING TO YOU.

Yes, I suppose. All right, then what are you?

The monster said, I AM YOUR TRANSPORTATION. And, with that, it opened its mouth, allowing kiloliters of seawater—and Martok—to slide down into its gullet. Martok screamed as he tumbled down into the glistening pink maw, then screamed himself hoarse when the jaws snapped shut and the light disappeared.

Martok’s face was cut by the wind of his passage as he plunged through the black. Fearful that the walls of the serpent’s gullet were lined with knives, he curled himself into a ball, his face pressed against his thighs, not even noticing that he could once again control his arms and legs. He knew not how many seconds or minutes or even hours passed then in that timeless, lightless place. The serpent’s gullet might have led to the center [167] of the world, but Martok allowed his mind to go blank.

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