Star Trek: Voyager: A Pocket Full of Lies

by Kirsten Beyer

  “What is their planet of origin?”

  “They have their own continuum. They exist outside of space and time and are not bound by any limits imposed on most corporeal and non-corporeal beings. Honestly, you should count yourself lucky that you’ve never had to deal with them. I would too were it not for the fact that I would not be here right now if it weren’t for Q.”

  “They saved you?”

  “More or less.”

  “Just you?”

  “Yes. When I first learned of the denzit’s existence, the most troubling part was the fact that based on what I had learned from my experience with the Q, she should have died long ago.”

  “I see.”

  Janeway went on to explain in some detail the existence of an imbalance in the multiverse caused by the Anschlasom through their breach of the Omega Continuum and the lengths to which the multiverse had gone to correct it, including the creation of the Omega Continuum’s avatar and the deaths of all versions of Kathryn Janeway across all timelines to ensure that avatar’s presence at the critical moment.

  Dayne listened intently, interrupting only occasionally for clarification. When the admiral had finished her tale, he appeared puzzled, but satisfied.

  “Are we done here, Agent Dayne?”

  “For now.”

  “Am I going to find it necessary to return to this sector any time soon?”

  “Your actions here have not created sufficient counter-indications to warrant further incursions. You might want to advise the Rilnar and Zahl that the Krenim pose no threat to them and are content to allow them to live in peace as long as they return the favor. Should they initiate conflict, I doubt even you would argue with our right to defend ourselves.”

  “Not with your right, but possibly with your methods.”

  “Again, I am appalled by your willingness to hold others to standards you clearly believe do not apply to you.”

  “This area of space is far beyond the Federation. We have no stake in its development beyond the hope that all sentient spacefaring races will find peaceful coexistence preferable to conflict. That said, a number of our scientists have dedicated their lives to the study and the preservation of the integrity of time. I had hoped when you first told me of the existence of your Temporal Defense Agency that this was a sign that your people had reached the same conclusion as ours about temporal manipulation. I am still willing to be convinced that this is the case.”

  “Time will tell.”

  “Indeed. I have one final request, Agent Dayne.”

  “Just one? How refreshing.”

  “The woman you captured, tortured, and betrayed is now my personal responsibility. I assume that by answering your questions, I have eliminated any possibility that your people will feel it necessary to interact with her again at any time in the future. If you once again find yourselves troubled by chaotic variables, I must insist that you take the matter up with me. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, Admiral. In fact, on this point, we are in complete agreement.”

  “Farewell, Agent Dayne. It is my fondest hope that we will never meet again.”

  “A hope we share.”

  TRUON

  Agent Dayne spared no attention for the quantum duplicate he had created or its current conversation with Admiral Janeway. His double would exist only for the few minutes Dayne required. There had been no need to debrief him. He knew all that Dayne did, including this mission’s objectives, and understood implicitly that his only task was to keep the admiral talking for as long as possible without arousing any suspicion on her part.

  In the meantime, Dayne would use the wave on which the transmission was being carried to transport himself undetected to the Vesta. The temporal synch disruptor he had already attached to his arm would permit him to board the Federation vessel in a state of temporal flux that should prevent their sensors from detecting him.

  Should was the operative word. No one must know what he was about to do. The duplicate would be destroyed as soon as Dayne returned. The Truon’s logs would be purged. A number of things could go wrong with this plan, but Dayne didn’t care.

  It was time to bring Kathryn home.

  VESTA

  Kathryn Janeway didn’t know what had awakened her. She didn’t even know where she was. Preferring oblivion to these questions, she tried to resettle herself on the pillow when a voice whispered in her ear.

  “Kathryn, wake up.”

  This time, a sudden rush of adrenaline kicked in. She was alert and scampering as far from that voice as possible. She had reached the far side of the bed and narrowly avoided tumbling to the deck between it and the bulkhead. Her instinct was to grab a weapon but all she had at her disposal was a blanket.

  “Don’t be afraid.”

  Some half-remembered gesture was immediately resurrected. Lifting her hand to her heart, Kathryn tried to tap the combadge she had been issued when she came aboard. Her hand found only her shirt. The communicator was gone.

  Dayne held it in his hand. Dropping it to the deck, he crushed it under his boot.

  “You don’t need to contact them. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Panic was rising. Of course he was going to hurt her. What else had he ever done?

  She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. She started to scream and in a flash, Dayne had flown over the bed and clamped his hand down firmly over her mouth.

  It didn’t help that he looked like hell. That evidence of his injuries still remained so many days after they had been inflicted testified to the damage Tuvok had done. That Dayne was obviously also Krenim was equally disturbing.

  “Calm down, Kathryn. I need to affix this synch disruptor to your arm. You’re coming with me.”

  She struggled against him. Her left elbow met his gut and though he gasped in pain, his hold remained true.

  “Listen to me. I’ve come to help you. I can take you to our daughter, but you have to stop fighting me.”

  A new wave of fury rose within her. With strength unsuspected, she pulled her arms free, sending an elbow flying toward his face. He staggered back and she stepped forward, throwing both her hands into his chest, pummeling him to the deck. She tried to step past him but got tangled in his hands. He grabbed her right foot, tripping her as her momentum carried her forward.

  She crawled, desperate to reach an open space and run.

  He found his feet first and jumped over her, stopping at the doorway that separated her bedroom from the rest of her quarters. As she was pulling herself to her feet, she saw him reach inside his jacket. A scream of terror died in her throat.

  He was reaching for his weapon. She was going to die.

  What did it matter?

  Spent, she stood before him, completely vulnerable.

  “Do it,” she said softly. “End it. Please.”

  He seemed shocked by her words. His hand cleared his jacket and she realized he wasn’t holding a disruptor. He had removed a sheet of heavy brown paper. Wordlessly, he unfolded it and turned it out so she could see it.

  Etched onto the surface of what appeared to be parchment was a face, an agonizingly beautiful face.

  She was young, maybe two years old. Her brown hair was short and fine, curled at the ends. Her eyes were the same clear blue that stared out at Kathryn from her own baby pictures. What stopped Kathryn’s heart, however, was her smile. She had been captured in a moment of arrested delight, innocent joy suffusing her entire face.

  “Look at her, Kathryn. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  Tears were streaming down Kathryn’s face. Ripping her eyes away from the image, she dropped her head into her hands, choking on her sobs. Through them she babbled, “You said she was dead. Why are you doing this? You said . . . she is dead. My daughter is dead.”

  Dayne knelt before her, taking both her hands in his and pulling them from her face. “Of course I said that. You didn’t expect me to tell them the truth. I’ve kept her safe. She’s hidden in a place where no one will
ever be able to hurt her. Come with me now.”

  “I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you. Nothing you have told me from the moment we first met was the truth.”

  “Some of it was. When you and I were alone together, almost all of it was. It’s taken me a long time to figure out how to do this. But it’s finally possible. I won’t ask for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I just need you to know that what we had was real, and what we created is the only thing in this universe I cherish.”

  Kathryn stared at him, into the eyes where she had once discovered the will to go on living. She had dreamed of their reunion for so long. It had been poisoned by lies, but looking at him now, she felt only confusion. Her heart had become a lead weight.

  A soft alarm sounded. Dayne tapped his wrist and silenced it.

  “We’re out of time,” he said. “Come with me now, or lose her forever.”

  Kathryn was already lost. Resigned, she nodded faintly.

  • • •

  Admiral Janeway stood outside Kathryn’s quarters, hesitating. It was too soon to conclude that neither Dayne nor the rest of the Krenim would ever trouble them again. But their exchange had been promising. She hoped it might comfort Kathryn a little. She had also made copies of a few recent family photos. She had no idea how her mother and sister would react to the knowledge of this Kathryn’s existence. Once the shock wore off, she expected both of them to offer whatever support they could. Kathryn was, after all, family. Her mother and sister had always longed to spend more time with her. During the trials that were to come as Kathryn struggled to begin a new life and leave the past behind, the admiral believed Kathryn would find the same solace and peace that had recently been so essential in helping her find her own new perspective.

  She was surprised when she requested entrance and received no response. When several subsequent requests were met with silence, the admiral asked the computer to locate Kathryn. She did not allow her concern to morph into panic until the computer advised her that Kathryn was not on board the Vesta or any other fleet vessel.

  Using her security override, the admiral unlocked the door to Kathryn’s quarters and entered. The living area was silent and in perfect order. Scanning the room, her eyes fell on the entrance to the bedroom. Through the doorway she could see that the bed had been slept in. The sheet was askew and the blanket hung haphazardly over the far side of the bed.

  Cautiously she moved forward. When she stepped over the threshold into the bedroom, she heard a dull crunch beneath her boot. Lifting it, she noted the crushed combadge.

  A large piece of paper rested on the edge of the bed. The image it contained filled her with wonder and dread.

  • • •

  Nine hours later, an exhaustive search of every ship in the fleet and thorough sensor sweep of Sormana had revealed nothing apart from the fact that the woman Admiral Janeway had risked so much to save had vanished.

  Those assembled in Vesta’s briefing room shared the same confusion. Captain Farkas sat to one side of Janeway, Decan on the other. Captain Chakotay, Tuvok, Seven, and Counselor Cambridge rounded out the small group.

  In the center of the table, the image of a young female child who could have been Kathryn’s twin at the same age sat face-up. For several minutes, everyone at the table seemed unable to focus on anything else.

  Captain Farkas was the first to break the silence. “How did he do it? How did he take her? Did our shields malfunction?”

  “Lieutenant Bryce is analyzing the carrier wave used during Dayne’s transmission to me. He doesn’t have anything definitive yet, but it was the only link between our ship and the Truon.”

  “Why didn’t internal sensors detect his presence?” Chakotay asked.

  “Are we even sure he transported aboard?” Cambridge wondered aloud.

  The admiral shrugged, her eyes still glued to the image on the table. “The logs show some unusual energy readings and fluctuations in her quarters just after the Truon hailed us. I was speaking to him for almost ten minutes. He might have had an accomplice with him. I didn’t see anyone else on the bridge but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I still can’t believe that she would have willingly gone anywhere with him,” Farkas insisted.

  Several pairs of eyes looked toward Farkas with doubt.

  “If this child is hers, she might have.” Admiral Janeway redirected her gaze toward Tuvok. “Is it possible, Commander, that she mentioned this to you and you didn’t think to report it?”

  “I weighed her right to privacy in this matter as greater than yours to that piece of intelligence.”

  Janeway’s shoulders drooped visibly.

  “I see.” The admiral lifted her forefinger to the middle of her forehead and began to massage it, her expression pained.

  “For what it’s worth, Admiral, I understand Tuvok’s position,” Chakotay said.

  Janeway dropped her hand in surprise.

  “When he first learned of the child’s existence, he shared the denzit’s concerns that if we did anything to attempt to locate her, it might compromise her safety. At the first opportunity he had, Tuvok tried to force Dayne to tell him where the child was. Dayne reported that she was dead.”

  “You knew about this as well?” Janeway asked softly.

  Chakotay nodded.

  “Anybody else?” Janeway asked.

  After a moment, Seven raised her hand. Cambridge stared at her for a moment, aghast, then lifted his as well.

  The admiral pushed back from the table and rose to her feet. She started toward the door, but thought better of it, turning back to face her senior officers with restrained fury.

  “What am I supposed to . . .” she began, but trailed off, planting her hands defiantly on her hips. “Captain Farkas, begin long-range sensor scans for any signs of the Truon. Alert all fleet vessels to prepare to break orbit and begin a coordinated search.”

  “You want to go back to Krenim space?” Farkas asked.

  “Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary, but I’m not ruling it out either.”

  “Admiral,” Cambridge began, rising from his chair and approaching her warily, “are you sure that’s warranted?”

  “Dayne was responsible for creating her, capturing her, torturing her, manipulating her emotions to secure her trust, leaving her to die in the middle of a war zone, and apparently stealing their child from her. Yes, I believe a little follow-up might be in order.”

  “But Admiral—” Seven began.

  “I’m not leaving her at his mercy.”

  “You don’t know that she is,” Chakotay offered. “I think you need to ask yourself why Dayne left this picture behind.”

  “It is no longer possible to distinguish between lies and truth in the case of Agent Dayne, so I’m afraid attempting to discern his motives strikes me as an exercise in futility.”

  “Let’s make the attempt anyway,” Farkas suggested.

  Janeway turned on her, stunned.

  “He didn’t have to leave this,” Vesta’s captain said, picking up the parchment. “Clearly he was capable of getting her off this ship with us none the wiser. He would have assumed that once we searched our ships and the planet and didn’t find any evidence of her that we’d go looking for him. Maybe he left this so we wouldn’t.”

  Decan reached forward and Farkas handed him the image. He began to study it intently as the conversation continued.

  “I agree,” Seven offered. “Furthermore, this Kathryn Janeway is no longer our concern. We have identified her and removed her from the middle of the conflict on Sormana. We are not responsible for her subsequent choices.”

  “If she was taken against her will, we damn sure are,” Janeway countered.

  “And if she wasn’t, we could be setting ourselves up for another round with the Krenim for no reason,” Chakotay argued. “Think about it, Admiral. Take a minute and separate your fears from the evidence at hand. She loved him enough to marry him and bear his child. He
might have been lying about a lot of things, but there had to be something between them that was real or I don’t think she could have done that. If the two of them have managed to escape us and the Krenim, we wouldn’t be doing her any favors by pursuing this.”

  Cambridge moved closer to the admiral. “You know, much as I hate to admit it, it’s possible that most of what Dayne told us about his history with Kathryn is true, apart from his attempt to frame the Zahl for her original capture.”

  “I was there too, Counselor. His story changed every time he opened his mouth.”

  “To a degree,” Cambridge allowed, “but why? What was his agenda? Before he came aboard he knew that the situation on Sormana had deteriorated and that the planet was about to be destroyed. Why not just lead with that? Why bother telling us anything else at all?”

  “He went to great lengths to dissuade us from challenging the Krenim in any way,” Farkas said. “He assured us that despite the Year of Hell, the Krenim really aren’t our enemy anymore.”

  “Those assurances became meaningless when he admitted to Kathryn’s capture,” the admiral noted.

  “Yes, but he did indicate that those were the orders of his superiors,” Cambridge retorted. “If he truly loved her and had been planning to rescue her from Sormana on his own, our interference could have destroyed his perfect equations.

  “Put yourself in his position for a moment,” the counselor continued. “His agency is ordered to capture you and they end up with a temporally displaced woman who was of no use to them. Along the way, she claims his respect and perhaps his heart. He convinces his superiors to have her placed on Sormana and goes to incredible lengths to do so and then stays with her for what he believes will be the rest of her life. He never mentioned the child to us because that was the one variable still in play. He took the child and hid her away somewhere and as soon as he learned that Kathryn had survived, began planning to rescue her.”