Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 042 - Mission Gamma 2 - This Gray Spirit by Heather Jarman

Author:Heather Jarman [Jarman, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, Space Opera, Adventure, General
ISBN: 9780743445627
Google: fmVGsSXS_y8C
Amazon: 0743445627
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 2002-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

By his calculations, Shar and Keren had been hiking along the cliffs for almost an hour. Whether they’d made any progress was another issue entirely: every time the trail turned, Shar expected to look down and discover they’d reached the top. Instead, he faced trudging through yet another stretch of rocks and mud, sending pebbles skittering through the grasses with every step. Rainstorms had brought down weathered branches, gravel and debris from the above hillside onto the footpath. One way, Shar would have to scramble up a collapsing slope; the other required secure footing on water-slick lava rock. His muddy uniform testified to how much success he’d had the last time he’d gone off the path. How he wished they were traversing the wonderfully flat stretch of black beach below. He’d happily walk from here to where the beach vanished into the horizon if it meant he left the mud behind.

It hadn’t looked this difficult when he’d agreed to hike in lieu of using transporters. He enjoyed hiking—having grown up in Andor’s western hill country, he spent a good deal of his youth scrambling up and down the slopes around Threlfar Province. But the terrain hadn’t been anywhere near as treacherous as this.

Before they left Luthia, Keren had shown Shar a regional map of the Hebshu Peninsula, one of Vanìmel’s few land-based farming provinces. The two-dimensional version of the peninsula showed the trail as leading from the landing strip, cutting switchbacks across the steep mountain foothills, curving sharply near the summit, and dropping into the valley gap where they would make a swift descent into the peninsula’s chief agricultural region. Simple enough. For a nimble-footed tathrac, perhaps.

“I have the remote transporters activated, Keren,” Shar panted. “We could use them.”

Keren spun around and walked backward, never making a misstep. “Consider this part of your research. Firsthand understanding of the environmental conditions.” Laughing, she turned and skipped up the trail.

“And the farmers and herders have to bring their goods down this track to ship them?” Shar called. He couldn’t fathom any vehicle successfully navigating these ruts.

Keren, deftly picking her way around mud puddles in the path, laughed. “Our transporters don’t have the range yours do and weather conditions aren’t always ideal—atmospheric interference and all that. When the volcanoes go off there’s further interference—”

“And the most valuable resources you’re transporting are dairy products and animal hair, correct?” Food made sense. The value of the hair puzzled him, but Thriss had always accused him of being obtuse about fashion.

“Excuse me, Thirishar ch’Thane, you of many locks, could it be that the quantity of hair on your head impairs your brain function? Why do you think hair is such a status symbol among my people? If it were easy to come by, why would it be so prized?” She tossed her long braids to make her point.

“I apologize. Questions of commerce are lost on me. My friend Nog has a much better grasp of such subtleties than I do.” Drained, Shar paused and leaned back against a boulder.

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