Spirit Walk, Book Two

by Christie Golden

  “Don’t be too judgmental,” Kim retorted, sliding into Kaz’s seat. “You’re one of us now.” His fingers flew over the control pads. “The trick,” he said, “is for me to be able to access this message without sending up a red flag at Campbell’s station.”

  “Any way you could distract her?”

  Kim shook his head. “We’ve attracted enough attention by getting me down here with Umari flu. Better not risk it.” He sighed and frowned in concentration. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but right now I wish Lyssa Campbell was less competent.”

  The Changeling was a creature of instinct.

  Instinct—not a thorough, scholar’s knowledge of anatomy or cell construction—was what made a Changeling a shape-shifter. In order to be a stone, one had to know a stone; in order to be a person, one had to know a person. It wasn’t a question of getting the freckles or moles or laugh lines right; it was understanding what made a person unique that gave a Changeling its real power.

  And right now his instincts were telling him that something was about to go very wrong if he didn’t figure out what was going on and stop it immediately.

  Odd, two personal messages so hard on the heels of each other. Especially odd was Irene Hansen’s appearance. Even with the medical strides made by the Solids over the years, the Changeling knew that some mental illnesses remained untreatable.

  But not very many.

  His fingers drummed on the arm of his chair as his thoughts raced. Not very many at all. What were the odds that Irene Hansen had one of those diseases?

  And what was it Campbell had said? “Weird,” she’d called it, and weird, indeed, it was. Hansen’s condition had taken Campbell by surprise, but Kim seemed fully aware of the situation, as had Seven of Nine.

  They were still some time away from arriving at Loran II. He’d wanted to drag that time out, to try to come up with a plan, but nothing had materialized. Suddenly the thought struck him that he might be better off on the planet surface, safe from detection, with Moset and his creatures to protect him.

  The thought of the entities Moset was creating thrilled him. Who needed to be part of a Great Link when one had beings like that under his command? Moset was a brilliant mind, but gullible, like all Solids were gullible. The Cardassian thought that the creatures he was hard at work perfecting would belong to him.

  The Changeling almost snorted in derision. As if he’d hand over such a treasure trove to a scientist.

  No, they were his, although Moset didn’t know it yet. They, and the scientist who had made them, would protect him.

  “Lieutenant Tare,” he said, “increase speed to warp seven.”

  “Aye, sir,” she replied, her fingers moving knowledgeably over the console.

  As unobtrusively as possible, “Chakotay” touched his computer screen. The beaming face of the elderly woman he’d just spoken to appeared. She looked quite healthy, both physically and mentally.

  He read her bio. There was no indication there of anything wrong with her.

  Irene Hansen was just fine. And, come to think of it, how had she been able to so casually contact a starship engaged in a mission?

  Kim had been the first one to react as if Hansen’s mental state was not unexpected. And Kim had been called down to sickbay, to be treated for Umari flu….

  He searched the computer banks for information on the illness.

  Nothing.

  They were playing him. They knew something, and the two were playing him like—

  “Captain?” Lyssa Campbell’s voice, puzzled, unsure.

  “Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?” His mind was racing at light speed. He didn’t dare act until they had reached the planet. He was glad he’d instructed Tare to change speed.

  “You asked me to monitor all incoming and outgoing messages.”

  He wished he could form a tentacle of his arm and wrap it around her slender neck. Forcing himself to remain calm, he replied, “Yes, I did. What have you got?”

  “It may be nothing, sir. I had a ghost earlier, this may just be more of the same.” She shook her blond head. “They really did a number on this ship.”

  The Changeling decided that if he had the opportunity to do so without putting himself at risk, he would indeed kill Lyssa Campbell.

  “Lieutenant, make your report.”

  “Well, it looks like I’m detecting unauthorized activity. It’s as if—but that can’t be right.” Her brow furrowed.

  “Chakotay” couldn’t take it any longer. He rose and strode to her station, pushing her out of the way firmly.

  And that’s when he saw it.

  Seven of Nine had sent a hidden message, encrypted and deeply embedded in the ordinary, everyday conversation she’d had with Chakotay about her “mentally ill” aunt.

  A message that was now being decoded and read in sickbay. Where Harry Kim and Jarem Kaz were.

  He was so furious that for a moment, he almost lost his form. It was with a monumental effort of will that he retained it, kept calm, forced himself to sound mildly curious.

  “I see why you’re confused, Lieutenant. This is quite odd. Tare, how much longer till we reach Loran II?”

  “About two minutes, sir.”

  “Enter standard orbit when we arrive. I’m going to duck into sickbay and talk to Kaz. Maybe one of his computers is acting up.”

  He strode to the turbolift. Once the doors were securely closed, he gave vent to his fury. His form shifted, then rearranged itself into Chakotay.

  The clever bastards were on to him. Through his rage, he smiled, his lips twisting.

  At least now he ought to be able to finally kill someone.

  Chapter 18

  TOM RAN HIS HANDS over her sleek curves, deeply content. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

  He truly had missed the Delta Flyer.

  It was fortunate that Vaan was in fairly close proximity to Loran II, or else Tom knew that even with the sweet ship that was his beloved Flyer, he wouldn’t be able to make it in time.

  Sighing, he turned his thoughts away from admiring the Delta Flyer to the more sobering thoughts of Chakotay’s strange behavior.

  Lying to Janeway. Failing to notify Starfleet when his first officer had been killed. Leaving the planet at high speed. Janeway had been right—whoever it was who’d been sitting in the captain’s chair, it wasn’t Chakotay. Or at least, it wasn’t the Chakotay they knew.

  There were all kinds of scenarios: possession by an alien, an impostor who could be an alien, a malicious clone, or simply a human with his features surgically altered.

  Tom had never met Sekaya, but he grieved for her death. Chakotay had always spoken with such fondness, such wistfulness of his sister. It was inconceivable that he’d just abandon her remains on the planet.

  Whether Chakotay was held hostage in the literal sense, or whether it was merely his mind that had been hijacked, Paris burned with determination to rescue and free his friend.

  “Janeway to Paris.”

  Tom glanced at the small viewscreen to see Janeway’s face. She looked more serious than he thought he’d ever seen her.

  “Aye, Admiral, go ahead.”

  “We’ve got some new information about the being who’s impersonating Captain Chakotay.” A pause, then, “Tom, it’s a shape-shifter. Maybe even a Changeling.”

  Tom’s blue eyes widened. “A shape-shifter? But how—when—”

  Janeway held up a hand, forestalling his barrage of questions. “There’s a lot we don’t know, and even this is nothing more than our best guess. But it’s a guess that fits all the known facts. I’ve been talking with Seven and the Doctor, and the think tank’s theory is that Andrew Ellis has actually been impersonated by a being able to assume his form for years. It kept Ellis’s body in stasis, so it could produce a just-killed corpse when being Ellis was no longer convenient. There was no trace of DNA on the body other than Ellis’s own—one reason why we believe it’s a Changeling rather than another species. Thi
s, plus the fact that it’s obviously not Chakotay. We think he switched places on the planet.”

  Tom’s mouth opened and closed. He was dying to ask questions: Who else do you think he was? How could he slip past security as the same person for so long? What does he want with Chakotay? Instead, he chose the wiser option of silence.

  “The shape-shifter poses an extremely high risk to everyone on board that ship. I’ll be talking with Starfleet Command here shortly. We’ll be getting you backup, but not yet. We have to do it as surreptitiously as possible. No matter what, do nothing to alert the shape-shifter that we are on to him. But you are to apprehend him if it’s at all possible. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, ma’am. Understood.”

  Her serious expression softened. “You’re going to be on your own for a while yet, Tom. Be careful. But your duty is to prevent any more lives lost.”

  He nodded. “I know. I’ll keep things as quiet as I can.”

  “Above all else, you can’t let him leave the ship. If he’s not contained, he’ll disappear, and there’s a chance we’ll never find Chakotay.” Her eyes revealed her pain. “Except perhaps the way we found Ellis.”

  Pain stabbed Tom, too. Righteous anger surged to replace it. “I’m not going to let that happen, Admiral.”

  “I know I can count on you, Tom. Janeway out.”

  Paris looked out at the stars racing past. The damn shape-shifter better watch out.

  “How’s it coming?” Kaz inquired.

  Kim gave him an angry look. “About as well as it was two seconds ago when you asked me that. I’m going as fast as I can.” He shook his head. “Seven did a good job. Maybe too good a job.

  “Show me what you’ve got,” Kaz said. Kim muttered something underneath his breath, then touched a pad. Kaz’s eyes flew over the words:

  After a thorough analysis of the data presented, the think tank has come to a consensus. The conclusion we have reached is that

  “Why didn’t she just tell us what the conclusion was?” Kaz asked, exasperation permeating his voice.

  “That’s Seven for you. She’s so concerned about making sure her comments are comprehensive that she sometimes forgets about being concise.”

  “Well, that little trait of hers is costing us precious time that we don’t have,” Kaz said.

  “I know, Kaz, I’m going as fast as I can,” Kim said.

  Kaz ran a hand over his face, finding it to be covered in sweat. He walked away a few steps, trying to collect himself. Why are you standing here? Gradak’s voice demanded in his brain. You’re the chief medical officer. He’s the head of security. You’re suspicious of Chakotay; why isn’t he in the brig right this moment?

  “We don’t have enough evidence,” Kaz said under his breath.

  Kim shot him a glance. “We may have what we need right here. This is the last of it.”

  Kaz hastened back to look over Harry’s shoulder as the younger man deciphered the message.

  …Captain Chakotay has been killed or abducted and is currently being impersonated by a

  Kim’s shoulders sagged. “And that’s all there is.”

  Kaz pounded a fist on the table, making Kim jump. White-hot fury rushed through him. “Damn it!” he swore. “Damn it! Captain Chakotay is being impersonated by a what?”

  “A Changeling” came a smooth voice.

  Both men turned, shocked, to see Chakotay—the Changeling—standing in the entrance. He had a gentle smile on his face, but Kaz saw the hatred in the dark eyes.

  Kaz and Kim sprang into action. As Kaz reached for a laser scalpel, a poor weapon but the best he could find here in sickbay, out of the corner of his eye he saw Kim doing something on the computer. Gradak’s outrage washed through him. What is he doing? Gradak demanded. He’s chief of security, why isn’t he fighting the intruder?

  Whatever Kim was doing, he paid the price for his delay. More swiftly than Kaz could have imagined, the Changeling sprang. He backhanded Kim so hard that the security chief went flying. He crashed into the wall and slid in a crumpled heap to the floor, unconscious—or dead.

  Kaz took advantage of the Changeling’s intense concentration to leap on him with the scalpel. But the shape-shifter was faster. He easily, fluidly eluded the assault, and Kaz fell to the floor. Even as he tried to scramble to his feet, he saw the Changeling approaching, grinning manically.

  “I’ve been waiting for this for such a long time,” “Chakotay” said.

  Lyssa Campbell frowned at the flashing light on her console. It was a message from sickbay. As she touched a pad, a message began to flow across the screen:

  After a thorough analysis of the data presented, the think tank has come to a consensus. The conclusion we have reached is that Captain Chakotay has been killed or abducted and is currently being impersonated by a

  That was all there was, but that was all that was needed. A quick check confirmed that the message, sent to her from sickbay, had originally been transmitted by the think tank of which both Seven and the Doctor were members.

  Suddenly everything made sense. Campbell realized what she needed to do.

  “Red alert, all hands, red alert.” Lyssa Campbell’s melodic voice boomed throughout the ship.

  The Changeling seized Kaz and wrapped arms that were stronger than iron bands around him, then paused to listen.

  “Intruder alert. Captain Chakotay has been abducted. All crew are instructed to apprehend the intruder impersonating him. Use whatever force necessary.”

  The message repeated and the Changeling seethed. He wanted to snap Kaz’s neck, but he needed the man now. Quickly he changed his form, and Kaz now stared wildly up at Harry Kim.

  “I need to get off this ship,” “Kim” said firmly. “And you’re either going to help me or die. Do you understand?”

  Kaz nodded. The Changeling hauled the Trill to his feet. “Come on.”

  As he and Kaz strode swiftly down the corridors, the red alert blaring, the Changeling went over his options. He could transport down, or he could take a shuttle. He decided on the latter. It wouldn’t get him there quite as quickly, but he needed more than one ship to make good his escape with the creatures.

  Kaz, wisely, said nothing. Nor did he appear to be planning to bolt. The Changeling approved of both courses of action.

  He regarded the Trill intently as they stood in the turbolift, committing his image to memory in case he had to impersonate the doctor at any point. Kaz felt his gaze and gave him stare for stare. Despite himself, the Changeling grinned.

  “Which Kaz is looking at me,” he asked, “Jarem or Gradak?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Kim” shrugged. “It might.”

  “How about both?”

  “That’s fine. You know, Doctor, the Trill were always the one species that I thought was most like our people.”

  Kaz looked skeptical. “We’re not shape-shifters,” he said.

  “No, but you understand being more than any one individual. You’ve got the memories of a dozen people inside you by this point, right?”

  Kaz’s blue eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

  The Changeling let Kim’s face smile. “I make it my business to know things.”

  The turbolift came to a stop. The Changeling tightened his grip on Kaz’s arm. “You’ve been behaving properly until now, Kaz. Don’t do anything stupid, or, believe me, I will not hesitate to kill you or anyone else we run across.”

  “Just like you killed Ellis?”

  “Figured that out, have you?” The doors hissed open. “I’ve killed a lot more than Ellis, Doctor. Many, many more than him.”

  Paris dropped out of warp close to Loran II. He had expected to be at least somewhat nervous now that the moment had arrived, but instead he found himself calm and focused. Voyager was on his viewscreen and he hailed the ship.

  “Delta Flyer to Voyager, Tom Paris commanding. Request permission to dock, Voyager.”

  As he watched, he no
ticed a shuttle leaving the ship and heading directly for the planet, and his calm demeanor slipped. Please let that not be the shape-shifter, he thought. He had still received no response from Voyager, and with each second that ticked past, his anxiety grew.

  “This is the Delta Flyer, Tom Paris commanding, come in, Voyager.”

  He wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting—the shape-shifter masquerading as Chakotay to respond, or maybe Kim. Instead, Lyssa Campbell’s voice, strained and taut, replied.

  “Delta Flyer, assist us in intercepting the shuttle. Repeat, intercept the shuttle! Our tractor beam is off-line.”

  She didn’t know he knew, didn’t have time to explain, but she trusted him to hear the urgency in her voice and respond.

  He did.

  He maneuvered the Flyer on an intercept course, forcing the shuttle, which presumably contained the shape-shifter, to veer sharply to starboard in order to avoid a collision.

  “Delta Flyer to the Carrington, I have orders from Starfleet Command for you to surrender. Stand down immediately.”

  The response was a phaser blast that sent sparks flying on the console and almost knocked Paris out of his seat. Swearing, he began to lock his own phasers, when a voice chilled him to the bone.

  “Paris, listen to me.” It was Harry’s voice. “I’m being kidnapped. There’s a Changeling, he’s pretending to be Kaz right now and—”

  “Tom, don’t listen to him.” Kim again, sounding weaker, this time coming from Voyager. “He’s pretending to be me and he’s taken Kaz hostage.”

  “Got it,” Paris replied shortly, and changed the target. If he could knock out the engines and weapons on the Carrington, they might have a chance at saving their friend. He’d never encountered a Changeling personally, except for Odo aboard Deep Space 9 very briefly, and had certainly never seen one in full-on shape-shifting mode. He’d always thought that if such a thing occurred, he’d be able to tell the real one from the fake one. But the voice that had come from the shuttle had sounded exactly like Harry, and he knew Kim almost better than anyone.

  I’ve got to stop him. I’ve got to.