“Yes, Admiral?” Eden replied evenly. Chakotay and Cambridge slowed their exits.
Looking at Chakotay and the counselor with a gaze that made it plain they were being dismissed, Kathryn said, “A word?”
“Of course.” Eden nodded, standing up straighter.
As soon as they were alone Kathryn said, “I’m curious about something.”
“The floor is yours, Admiral.”
“Was there any particular reason why you did not include in your report your sense that the action you took in the cavern, shattering the representation of Som, was the catalyst for what we now see in the anomaly?”
Eden looked away, clearly giving the matter serious consideration. When she turned back, Kathryn saw regret in Eden’s eyes. “I do not think it is essential to their efforts,” she replied. “Cambridge and the Doctor are convinced that was an emotional response on my part. There seems to be no scientific evidence to support the proposition.”
“But you still believe it to be true?” Kathryn pushed gently.
“I know it to be true,” Eden said flatly, then added, “and I also know it makes no difference now. We are where we are. My course of action will be no different whether I bear responsibility or not.”
“They wouldn’t blame you, Captain,” Kathryn observed.
“The assignment of blame is inconsequential to the work ahead of us,” Eden said. “More likely, they would take it as evidence that I had been mentally damaged by my recent experiences. My effectiveness as their commander would most certainly be compromised.”
“Do you believe yourself to be mentally damaged by what has transpired?” Kathryn asked, consciously choosing to echo Eden’s description.
“If I did, I would immediately turn command of what remains of the fleet over to Captain Chakotay,” Eden replied without missing a beat. “Ever since I first saw the artifact on the Mikhal Outpost, I knew that a force, beyond what I would consider rational, was working to bring me to this moment. I’ve known my entire life that I was different. All that we have learned so far has only confirmed that belief. The deeper . . . knowing that I have been able to access, since I was a young girl, usually results in a feeling of peace and certainty. I trust it. I don’t understand what this means, but I’m not wallowing, and I’m not unbalanced. Whether I broke this thing or not, possibly condemning over seven hundred to death, doesn’t matter. What does is that I intend to fix it.”
“Fair enough,” Kathryn said, nodding.
“I’ve asked Commander Paris to provide you with quarters. Is there anything else you require?” Eden asked.
“No,” Kathryn assured her. “I’d like to spend some time with the Doctor, reviewing his medical findings, as well as everything in our databases regarding your uncles’ actions while they were in Starfleet.”
“There’s nothing there,” Eden cautioned her. “I’ve read the reports so many times since I discovered them, I’ve committed them to memory.”
“Fresh eyes can’t hurt,” Kathryn suggested.
“I suppose not,” Eden allowed. “Is there something in particular you are looking for?”
The admiral shrugged. In truth, she wanted to feel like she was doing something to help. But she could not shake the sense that Eden’s true connection, as well as her uncles’, to the anomaly had yet to be discovered. “It is your prerogative to share as much of the information with your crew as you see fit,” Kathryn began. “But I hope you will continue to be completely honest with me.”
“You can count on it, Admiral,” Eden replied.
A moment of tense silence hung between them before Kathryn ventured, “I’ve been where you are, Captain Eden. I know what it is to make choices that result in unthinkable and painful consequences. Even now, I don’t know how I’m going to live with some of my regrets going forward, but I do know that guilt and doubt lead nowhere productive. You aren’t alone in this.”
Eden rose and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment, Admiral, but the truth is I’ve been alone since the day my uncles left me on Earth. It’s not unfamiliar territory to me, or to you, I suspect. We form connections with one another, we create ties, and we share experiences that bind us, but there are precious few relationships that go deep enough to allow us to truly be known by one another. You have that with these people. I hoped to create it myself as time went on.”
“You still can,” Kathryn tried to assure her.
“Perhaps,” Eden allowed. “I’ll report back to you as soon as I return from Quirinal.”
Kathryn nodded. As Eden left, the weight resting on her shoulders was evident. Kathryn wanted to lighten Eden’s load, but she knew all too well that both circumstance and position meant she could not. She had her own responsibilities to consider, including her godson’s expectations. Like Eden, she wondered if she might be forced to shoulder them alone.
• • •
Harry Kim found Nancy Conlon and Devi Patel in Holodeck 2 running a simulation to test the potential effectiveness of Voyager’s tractor beams on the Quirinal, the ship that had lost the least of its mass to the anomaly. It was a good choice, though the smaller Curie might have been easier. They were in a holographic reconstruction of Voyager’s engineering section, where Conlon was overseeing power distribution while manning the tractor controls. Patel was busy measuring the impact on the Quirinal and the anomaly. A scaled-down holo of the Quirinal showed where the tractor beams were being applied.
Harry waited patiently for them to complete the simulation. After a tense minute, during which Patel suggested several variations, Conlon finally ordered, “Computer, freeze simulation.”
“Are you sure we can’t route this through the deflector dish?” Patel asked in obvious frustration as she crossed to Conlon. Neither had registered Harry’s entrance.
“Maybe.” Conlon, who appeared to be thoroughly exhausted, nodded. “I’d like to avoid that if possible. This way, we might lose our target, but we’re a lot less likely to lose Voyager.”
Patel rubbed her eyes with both hands, as if willing them to see something she was missing. When she removed them, she saw Harry and immediately straightened her posture.
Taking this as his cue, he stepped forward, saying, “How’s it going?”
“Great,” Conlon replied sarcastically.
“I take it our tractor beam doesn’t have the power to pull the ships free?” Harry asked.
“It doesn’t appear to,” Conlon said.
“And every time the ship moves a hair, the computer indicates additional points of fracture within the anomaly,” Patel added.
Harry nodded, then said, “Seven is working on a new theory in astrometrics. She’d like both of you to join her there.”
Patel started for the lab, but Conlon caught Harry’s eye and said, “Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Once they were alone, the engineer said, “You know, I really like you, Harry, but I don’t have time for this right now. You could have advised us of our new orders over the comm. Or Seven could have, for that matter. You came down here to check on me.”
“True,” he acknowledged. “How are you holding up?”
“Great,” she said with forced cheer.
“Okay,” Harry replied, unwilling to push too far. “I just want you to know,” he added, “I am worried about you, and if you want to talk, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” Conlon said, and started for the door.
“Nancy?” he called.
She stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“Never mind,” he decided. The truth was, in the last hour, his life had changed dramatically. Their mission had been complicated by Admiral Janeway’s news, but her presence had sparked something in him he hadn’t felt since her death. It wasn’t that she was an all-knowing, all-powerful savior who had swooped in at the last minute to rescue them. Harry had no doubts that whatever was to come, they’d all be working awfully hard to rescue themselves. But in a universe where so much had been taken from him
in the last few years, to have Kathryn Janeway brought back gave him a renewed sense of faith he hadn’t dusted off in a long time. He couldn’t share this with Nancy, nor did he think the news would have had the same effect on her that it had on him.
He expected the engineer to continue walking, but Conlon turned, and her eyes when they met his were colder than any he’d ever seen staring out of her normally open, bright face.
“On our way to Troyius, da Vinci came across a convoy of Elasian ships. Might have been every single ship they had that was warp capable. They were fleeing the Borg, who were supposed to be hours away. We were still working the bugs out of a phase-shifting matrix we thought we could use to hide both of the inhabited planets in the system. Troyius was to be our first effort.” Her eyes began to glisten as she continued, “But the Borg showed up a little early. We were in range of Troyius, although we could have come to the aid of the Elasian convoy. We couldn’t, however, save both. So we chose the planet. The matrix worked. We made Troyius seem to disappear, and the Borg moved on. But they made short work of the convoy on their way out of the system. It was only after the fact, as we were going over our scans, that we realized that the Elasians had packed as many children on those vessels as they could hold. The Elasians sent their future out on those ships, hoping against hope it would survive. Eight hundred thousand children gone in the blink of an eye. Those children were helpless, defenseless. We could have saved them. And we didn’t.”
Harry stepped closer, but she raised a hand to stop him.
“I haven’t let myself think about it in months. Saving a planet of billions was probably the right choice. But I’ve never seen that many children die. I’ve never seen that many people die. I never thought I would see anything like that ever again.”
“It was an impossible choice, Nancy,” he said softly.
“Yes.” She nodded. “And I kept thinking it was one I’d never have to face again. What were the odds that there was something worse out there than the Borg? But I’ve realized in the last couple of days that there doesn’t have to be. More than seven hundred people were lost on those four ships to an interstellar anomaly.”
“Not yet,” he interjected.
“Unless we can work another miracle, they are,” she corrected him. “And I seem to be fresh out of them.”
“It’s not over, and we might just surprise you,” he added.
“It’s over for me,” Conlon replied.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going to do everything I can until this crisis has passed to prove myself wrong, but when this mission is over, I’m requesting transfer back to the Alpha Quadrant.”
“The end of our three-year mission?” Harry asked.
“No. The end of this rescue mission. I just can’t wrap my brain around this much loss again. It’s paralyzing. I’m a damned fine engineer, but I’m no good to anyone like this.”
In his own recent struggles, Harry had almost come to the same conclusion. He didn’t like her choice, but he knew he had to respect it.
“I understand,” Harry finally said. Then, he remembered just how much she had come to mean to him in a few short months.
“Good,” she replied.
Before she could again turn to leave, however, Harry added, “But I also disagree.”
At her puzzled and somewhat surprised reaction, he continued, “If you’re looking for a safe place to come to terms with all of this, you’re not going to find it in the Alpha Quadrant either. I’ve traveled from one end of this galaxy to the other, and I’m here to tell you, there is no shortage of terrible, unthinkable stuff going on. Put two sentient beings in a room together and eventually they’ll find something to disagree about. Add warp technology and advanced weapons to the equation—”
“I hope you’re not trying to make me feel better,” Conlon interjected, “because you really suck at it.”
Harry stepped closer and continued, “But that’s not all there is to life. You can’t fix everything. Hell, you can’t fix most of what’s wrong. But you can try. And it’s in the trying that you learn who you are. You decide, in every single moment you draw breath, the quality of your life, how much you’re going to contribute, and how much happiness you’re going to create in the face of the darkness. And even a universe as frightening as this one finds ways to surprise you.
“I hope you will stay and discover that with us . . . with me.”
Conlon’s eyes softened. “Okay, that last part sucked a little less.”
• • •
Tom Paris found his wife standing at the entrance to their bedroom. Miral had fallen asleep in the middle of their bed, curled on her side, her breath slow and regular. Kula, their holographic nanny, stood in patient vigil by the bedside.
He came quietly up behind B’Elanna and felt her start as he wrapped both his arms about her waist. She relaxed, resting the back of her head against his chest. They stood there for a few moments before he bent low and whispered in her ear, “Did you have to volunteer to board the Quirinal?”
“Pretty dumb, huh?” she replied softly.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
At this, she turned and took him in a full, tight embrace. When they parted, she looked up to him, her eyes filled with the fear he’d seen too often in the last few days.
“We’re going to get through this,” he reassured her.
After a moment she led him into the living area, still holding tightly to both of his hands.
“Do you really believe it’s her?” she asked.
Tom thought for a moment, then said, “Admiral Janeway?”
“Q brought her back from the dead?” B’Elanna went on. “That seems awfully convenient, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged. “You’re not happy?”
“I’m thrilled,” B’Elanna insisted. “I mean, it’s great, right? She brought us home safe after seven years here. She’ll do it again, won’t she?”
“In the first place, the captain . . . admiral may have led us home, but we all did our part. Except you. If I recall, you were goldbricking your way through the last several hours we spent in the Delta Quadrant.”
“You mean when I was giving birth to our child?”
“Excuses, excuses,” he teased. “The Doctor has run every conceivable scan on her. If she’s not the real thing, she’s the best imitation ever, and I’ll take that in a pinch.”
“It’s just so . . .”
“So what?”
“So much,” B’Elanna finally gasped. “What if she is Q?” she added.
“The only thing better than the actual Kathryn Janeway on our side right now would be Kathryn Janeway with the powers of the Q.”
“Am I just being stupid?”
“No. You’re on overload. Three days ago, you were figuring out how to reprogram the transporters to save a bunch of folks trapped underground in the middle of a firefight. We barely have time for a nice dinner before you’re faced with trying to rescue half the fleet from something we’ve never seen before. And the admiral returns from the dead to tell us the situation is worse than we already thought. If it had been anyone else, Chakotay would have told her to take a number and he’d deal with her once we figure out how we’re going to survive this crisis.”
“Chakotay was practically levitating in his chair.” B’Elanna half smiled.
“Can you blame him? In his place I’d have been doing the same,” Tom admitted.
“Part of me just wants to accept it, to say, Great, you’re back. You figure this out,” B’Elanna admitted, her weariness showing.
“You can’t un-ring a bell, B’Elanna,” he said seriously. “We’ve all gotten used to a universe without her, and we do things for ourselves that we once looked to her for. Having her back is a good thing. Of that, I’m certain. But things can never be the way they were before she died, and maybe that’s for the best.”
“Shouldn’t I at least be a little relieved?”
“You’re not going to rest easy until this whole mess is behind us.”
“I just feel sick. Why can’t we just take Miral, pack our shuttle, and get out of here before . . . I don’t care where we go. New Talax? Anywhere but the epicenter of the end of the universe.”
Tom smiled. “In the first place, our shuttle is aboard the Achilles, which is on its way back to the Alpha Quadrant. And in the second, you know damn well why.”
“What if we were wrong to run here in the first place? Yes, the Warriors of Gre’thor were a threat, but threats don’t seem to be in short supply here.”
“I’m not going to waste a second wishing we’d done things differently. And not for nothing, the day we found you out here, Captain Eden would have been well within her rights to cut all three of us loose to the tender mercies of the Delta Quadrant. Every single person in this fleet, even our closest friends, who we lied to repeatedly, have taken us in and continue to protect us on a daily basis. If we turn our backs on them now, when they need the best we have to give, who are we? What are we teaching Miral?”
“That’s why I volunteered to board Quirinal,” B’Elanna said, nodding slightly.
“I’m sure Eden is waiting for you in the transporter room. Watch your back. I don’t think we’ve heard half of what she really knows about this anomaly so do me a favor and find us an answer.”
“Aye, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
VOYAGER
“So let me get this straight,” Lieutenant Patel said. Her red-rimmed eyes were a testament to hours of lost sleep and of staring at displays. “This anomaly is a weak point in the fabric of space-time between the known universe and some realm that runs throughout all of the multiverse without intersecting it?”
“Isn’t that just an alternate dimension?” Lieutenant Conlon asked.
“No,” Seven replied patiently. Prior to their arrival in astrometrics, she had run several analyses, beginning from her new premise, and was quite pleased with the results. “An alternate dimension would be inextricably linked to our own.”
“And this one isn’t?” the science officer asked.
Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide Page 29
