Warmth 1 - Shelter (PG-13)

"That definitely helped me get warmer, Paris," she said. He could sense the upturning of her lips on his and answered with a smile of his own.

"Much warmer, Torres."

Settling the blankets back around them, Tom wrapped his arms around her shoulders and back, hugging her close to him. She in turn tucked her head into his shoulder, the top of her head brushing his chin, snuggling into his embrace. He would have been content to lie like that, undisturbed, for the rest of the night. By his chronometer, however, he estimated that there were at least nine more hours of night left, nine more hours that would be colder than those they had already endured. Sighing into B'Elanna's hair, Tom resigned himself to the fact that several more petting sessions would probably be needed before morning. He was sure he'd be up for it.

~~~~~

B'Elanna stirred briefly as Tom crept out of the sleeping bag. Although the air was the coldest it had been since their arrival on the planet, the predawn dying of the breeze made it seem a little warmer in the cavern. Crouching down by her side, Tom tenderly lifted his half of the sleeping bag to cover her. By the meagre light of a wristlight, he watched B'Elanna's restlessness settle back into slumber. Tom longed to brush his hand along her cheek. He settled for draping part of Neelix's blanket around the back of her head and neck, tucking in the loose ends, before touching his gloved hand against her hair. Not a very sensual experience for him, to be sure, but the gesture satisfied the need in his soul to take care of her. She hated it, he knew, but that did not make the impulse easier for him to resist. Feelings for the beautiful human-Klingon engineer that he had been trying to keep dormant were raging in his heart, now that they had taken one step closer to becoming lovers. Hell, maybe they WERE lovers--he wasn't sure what they were to each other after the liberties they'd allowed each other during the night. But "friends"--no, a lot more than only friends--at least, on his part.

After visiting the "latrine corner" to relieve himself, Tom used his phaser to heat several of the rocks they had arranged to serve as radiators the previous evening. Grabbing the last of the straw knots, Tom piled them in the area designated as their fireplace and lit them with Neelix's lighter.

Baring his hands to take advantage of the flame, the helmsman considered his surroundings. He would be glad to get back on Voyager. This place was far too austere to spend any more time than necessary here. What would his father think about Tom's surviving here? Would he have gotten more than a B-minus from dear old Dad if he'd spent part of his survival training here? An ambivalent grimace appeared on his face. Probably not.

Slipping both pairs of gloves back over his hands, Tom straightened up and strolled to the entrance of the cavern. The sun was coming up, but it was still extremely cold. He again breathed thanks to the deity that had stopped the cutting wind.

From where he stood, Tom could see ropes of ice on the face of the cliff that he and B'Elanna had climbed the previous day. The icicles had been gleaming with dripping water in the sun yesterday, but now they were frozen solid again. He imagined there were cracks in the shale at the higher elevations where spring water could drip through from deep within the mountainside, where the water was liquid even in this cold. The sun warming the cliff caused surface melting in the day, while the brutal cold of the nights froze it all up again every night. No, Voyager's comforts would be very much appreciated by one Thomas Eugene Paris today.

Walking away from the cave entrance so that he would not disturb B'Elanna, Tom tapped his comm badge and said, "Paris to Voyager."

There was no answer, not even the hiss and static that had interfered with communications yesterday. Reflexively, he stared upward, although the likelihood he would be able to see Voyager in orbit was vanishingly small. Then he noticed that what he'd assumed was a "red sky at morning" effect was, in fact, the actual color of the entire sky, rather than just the eastern horizon. To the west, where night still reigned, the sky was a sickly orange-maroon, with a slight glow that obscured whatever stars might have been still shining in the dawn sky. In fact, Tom would be willing to bet that even the stars bright enough to be seen normally, despite the nebula, had been invisible during the past night. His practiced pilot's eye detected no trace of cloud cover, either. This was the actual night sky, stained such an unnatural color.

Recalling the interference with the communicator and transport systems the previous day, Tom came to the unhappy conclusion that the nebula itself somehow had become enflamed. Plasma fires were no joke, and Voyager would be better off far away from here if that were so.

And if that were the case, Thomas Eugene Paris and B'Elanna Torres were stranded in this unlovely environment for an indeterminate length of time.

~~~~~

"Torres to Voyager." B'Elanna listened for a full minute, hoping to hear some hint of an answering message. Even a crackling hiss would be welcome, as it might mean an open comm line. Dead silence was all the response she got. Sighing, she walked a little further down the bank of the stream, avoiding the ice patches that were present wherever her route was shaded from the sun in any way. There was no "path." A path implied life forms big enough to walk on a given trail with sufficient frequency for a ribbon of wear to be ground into the vegetation. B'Elanna's tricorder, now set to read biological signs instead of dilithium crystals, confirmed what Harry Kim's sensors had detected before the away teams ever left Voyager: there were no large animals on this planet.

Insects were another thing, however. Her tricorder was detecting large numbers of insect eggs, grubs, and larvae, dwelling in the unfrozen recesses of the ground, slumbering until the time came for them to retake their rightful place as the top link in the local food chain. She hoped her tiny away team would be long gone before that season was reached. If even half of the life forms she was reading hatched, this valley would be teeming with insects. B'Elanna preferred not to find out just how big the indigenous lifeforms would get once they emerged from hibernation.

Trudging up an embankment, B'Elanna reached the shelf which formed the base of "Dilithium Cliff," as Tom had dubbed the spot where the precious crystals had been found. She could hear his tenor voice say, "Paris to Voyager" as she reached the top.

"I tried less than five minutes ago, Tom."

His eyes met hers. "I figured it couldn't hurt," he offered with an apologetic shrug. "Unless you think all our calls will use up the power in our communicators."

"Not really, although I guess I have had power on my mind a lot. We don't have any to spare if we have to stay here for any length of time."

"Did you find anything else we can use for a fire?"

"Just more of those woody vines you found. They should burn a little more slowly than the straw and be a lot less work. I checked for coal and peat on my first circuit of the valley. It would be just our luck to land in the one place on this planet where there weren't any fossil fuels." She squatted next to Tom, leaning her back against the cliff. The autumnal reddish glow from the noontime sun burnished her face. The previous day, the color of the sun had been yellow-white, tingeing everything it touched a slight pink/purple hue to eyes adapted to the light spectrum of a yellow sun.

"I don't remember if Harry found anything like that when he scanned the planet. Do you?"

"Not off hand. If I'd had any idea we were going to be stuck down here . . . "

"You would've paid more attention. I know, B'Elanna. I would have, too." They shared a rueful smile. That line had become quite the cliché in the past few hours. "I hadn't realized how much attention I haven't been paying to Harry's background briefings. I'm going to turn over a new leaf when we get back, I assure you."

"You won't be the only one, Tom."

"So, Lieutenant Torres, what's next on the agenda?"

"So formal? Fine." Amused by his exaggeratedly professional tone, B'Elanna inquired crisply, "Would you care to report on your morning's activities, Mr. Paris?"

"Happy to, Ma'am. In addition to the tubers that I have dubbed 'yams' in deference to their close resemblance to the Terran root of the same name, I have evaluated the following foodstuffs and found them suitable for consumption by both humans, Klingons, or any combination of the two. Four more varieties of tuber: two of them fairly tasteless. The third has a flavor reminiscent of celery; the last tastes a little like chocolatey potatoes. I swear." They both laughed at the incongruous combination. "I also found these fuzzy leaves growing in a whorly patch. They aren't very pleasant to eat because of the odd texture, but they brewed up into a slightly sweet, lemon-flavored tea. The leaves have citric acid in them for that nice, tangy taste. I was going to call it Vulcan-Ear Tea." B'Elanna raised her eyebrows in surprise but then laughed again. The pointed, brownish leaves did resemble Tuvok's ears.

"Lastly," he went on, "There are some dried seeds in these pods which, if ground, would make a coarse meal. We might be able to mix it with water to bake in the fire or cooking pot for a cornbread substitute. The seeds taste a bit like maize. And unless you want me to start in on testing insect larvae and grubs, that's about it."

"Sorry, no. Maybe if we run out of everything else, we can start with the insects. I would prefer not to."

"I know. I've already had enough of Neelix's grub casserole to last a lifetime," he groaned.

Demonstration over, Tom loaded his samples back into the cooking pot and picnic basket that he'd used for his food gathering expedition. B'Elanna picked up their canteens and the two beverage containers, refilled with fresh water dripping from the icicle formations on the cliff. Together, they walked back along the muddy, rocky field to their cavern home-away-from-home.

~~~~~

After stowing away the food supplies, Tom walked to their haystack bed and studied it for several minutes before being joined by B'Elanna. "If we're going to be spending any more nights here, and I'm pretty sure that we are, we have to do something about keeping that draft away from us."

"Agreed. Couldn't we build some kind of barrier or wind baffle? Maybe some kind of screen?"

"I thought of that, but without wood, there isn't much to use for a framework."

"How about cutting some of those stalagmite columns with a fine phaser beam and using those for supports? Weave a screen with the piton cords and straw?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Tom pulled out his wrist light and flashed it to the area where most of the stalagmites were located. He shook his head. "I doubt it, B'Elanna. Most of them are so big, they might be impossible for just the two of us to move even if we did cut away the excess stone. And these columns look a little too short for what you want." He flashed the beam of his light over the columns in the middle of the niche at the left side of the cave.

"Tom, what if we just cut those central columns out of this area. We'd have plenty of room for both of us to sleep, even on top of a haystack piled inside. This side of the cave is out of the direct line of the opening. It shouldn't be as drafty here. Of course, we couldn't stand up without banging our heads, but . . . " Looking back at the helmsman, she saw him staring intently at the row of stone columns on the perimeter of the low-ceilinged part of the cave.

"B'Elanna, I think we could form a little room out of this area if we chinked up the spaces between the row of columns with mud. Maybe add some straw and pebbles to the mud, firmed up with our phasers on the lowest setting. Like making mud brick."

Her whole demeanor brightened. "That would really keep out the wind!"

"And your idea about weaving straw with the piton cords? We could make a hanging to cover the doorway area, over here, by this space. If we enclose a space that isn't too big, the heat from our breath and bodies would raise the temperature inside, too. Like an igloo."

"A what?"

"An igloo. Centuries ago, the Arctic people used to live in homes cut right out of the ice. They were made so the family's bodies, with the help of a small fire or lantern of some sort, kept the igloo comfortable. I was a kid when I read about it, so I forget all the details, but I remember that it was important that the enclosed space wasn't too large. The dens of hibernating animals work the same way. They line the dens with leaves, fur, or some kind of insulating material, and their bodies keep them warm."

"So we put the hay and our blankets and us inside . . . ."

"And keep the cold air outside . . . what do you think, Lieutenant Torres?"

"I think it's time we started cutting some stone columns out of this cavern, Lieutenant Paris."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Enter."

Harry Kim followed Commander Chakotay into Captain Janeway's ready room.

"Take a seat, Ensign Kim." She gestured to a chair near her desk. Chakotay took the other out of long habit. "What have you to report about the supply situation of Mr. Paris and Lieutenant Torres?"

"I've done what I can to work out best case/worst case scenarios for their power and supply situation, Captain. The best we can tell according to our records, B'Elanna had between five and eight phaser power packs with her for their dilithium cutting expedition. We aren't sure if Tom took any extras or not, Captain. Although we assume that all of them were at full capacity because of the nature of the job they were doing, we don't know for sure. They have the usual basic knapsack contents with convertible blankets, some personal articles, wristlights, and Tom's Field Medic Kit. Tom also took some climbing equipment--at least four pitons and lines. Neelix remembers seeing that many lines on the cliff."

"I'm not surprised Neelix noticed that," commented the commander with an encouraging smile. Chakotay was concerned about the ensign's unusually reserved manner, not that it was particularly surprising. Harry's best friends on Voyager were the two officers marooned on Tantrum IV.

"No, it isn't much of a surprise." Ensign Kim continued, without any noticeable lightening of mood. "Also, they had some food. Ration bars and whatever they had left over from the lunch Neelix sent up. That's all we're sure of, Captain. Neelix thinks that when Larson and he were beamed up, Larson's pack and a picnic basket with some odds and ends were left behind. If so, they have an extra blanket and some tools, too. Or maybe they were lost in transport."

"So we can't be positive of anything but the merest minimum of supplies."

"No, Captain. Since there were plenty of those tubers left in the valley, they have food. The critical thing is having a sufficient heat source. We don't know for certain about the power consumption from the dilithium cutting. They could already be out of power, or they may have enough for several weeks, particularly if they use strict conservation measures."

"How cold does it get, Mr. Kim?"

"While we were monitoring the planet, the low at night reached minus 30° Centigrade at that latitude, so they may be . . . " Harry swallowed painfully, "Well, Captain, they may already be dead if they didn't find sufficient shelter in the cave or haven't used some other method of keeping warm."

The captain and the first officer gazed at each other. "Other method, Mr. Kim?"

"Well, they can build a fire, I guess, if they can find anything to burn. There was no sign of any wood there. And there are, uh, some other, um--biological ways to um, keep warm." The ensign's face flushed.

"Biological ways. That would make sense." Commander Chakotay knew exactly what Ensign Kim was trying to avoid saying. A glance at Captain Janeway's twitching lower lip told him that she was perfectly aware of those ways also, as he fully expected she would be.

After an awkward pause, Captain Janeway said, "Thank you for your report, Ensign Kim. Dismissed." As he got up to leave, the captain's eyes fixed upon her second-in-command in a voiceless message. A barely perceptible nod from him followed, and Commander Chakotay trailed the ensign as he left the room.

Just outside the ready room door, the commander halted Kim. With a cheerful smile, he clapped the young operations officer on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry. We'll get them back. They're both survivors."

"I know, sir." Harry sighed. "I guess I'm being selfish. Here I am, feeling lonely and put out that they're both gone, when they're the ones in a life-threatening situation."

"They're both very creative people. I'm sure that they'll have found a way to get a fire going, or they'll be using those . . . 'biological methods.' "

Noting Harry's swift intake of breath and a slight quirking of the lips, Chakotay surmised that the obvious warming of the friendship of Paris and Torres may have gone even further than he had realized. Leaning closer to the young man, the commander whispered, "Harry, what's the betting line?"

"Betting line, Commander?" he replied uncertainly.

"Mr. Kim. There is a betting line for virtually everything that happens on this ship. Even without Mr. Paris to run this one, I find it hard to believe that there is no betting line about whether or not Paris and Torres are using 'biological methods' to keep warm."

"There isn't one, Commander." Harry assured his superior, but then he hesitated. While his answer was strictly true, he was omitting an important additional fact.

"That's pretty hard to accept."

"Well, there's a reason there isn't any--Commander, you aren't going to let Tom and B'Elanna know about this when they get back, are you?" The commander, upon hearing Harry use the positive term "when" rather than "if," nodded his head in satisfaction. Mission accomplished.

"Of course not, Mr. Kim," Chakotay responded aloud.

Harry sighed, and this time, a sheepish grin spread across his face. "Commander, there isn't any betting line because no one will back the bet that they WON'T be using 'biological methods' to survive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~