Atonement Read online

  “I—” Cambridge began, but Barclay cut him off.

  “You will not insult him. You will not embarrass him, and you will not judge him.”

  Cambridge stepped back, shocked by this sudden display of intensity from the normally fragile and unassuming Barclay.

  “You will, to the best of your abilities, help him. If you feel inadequate to that task, tell me now and I will find another way to assist the Doctor.”

  Cambridge shook his head, smiling faintly. “I’m accustomed to a certain amount of irrational protectiveness from the members of Voyager’s crew who shared seven years together in the Delta Quadrant. They are, and always will be, much more than fellow officers. The emotional context of their relationships mirrors familial ones rather than professional ones. You weren’t part of that crew, but you seem to have embraced the Doctor as fiercely as his oldest friends.”

  Barclay’s face reddened. He seemed unaware that Cambridge was complimenting him. “I was familiar with Voyager’s crew long before I had the pleasure of meeting them. When they returned home, the Doctor and I began to work closely together on a number of projects. He is my closest friend.”

  “Those feelings do you credit, Lieutenant,” Cambridge assured him. “And the Doctor is fortunate in his friends. While my experiences with the Doctor have not been as universally positive as yours, I do not wish him ill. Believe it or not, I have as much invested in his emotional equilibrium as you do.”

  “Because of Seven?” Barclay asked.

  Cambridge felt his own pain struggle to surface, but kept it at bay. “I do not believe Seven will ever return to our fleet. That said, she would be devastated should the Doctor suffer permanent damage, particularly if she knew she was part of the cause. I will offer the Doctor my best. For his sake, and hers, I can do no less.”

  “For duty’s sake, you can do no less,” Barclay corrected him.

  Okay, we’ll go with that, Cambridge thought. “Of course,” he said aloud.

  “I have already briefed the Doctor fully on the events of the last few days as well as the nature of the modifications to his program. He understands now what has happened. He is expecting to speak with you. I want you to do that here, where my diagnostic programs are most easily accessed.”

  Cambridge nodded, and Barclay activated the Doctor’s program.

  As soon as he appeared, the Doctor looked to Barclay. “Hello, Reg,” he said.

  “Counselor Cambridge is here,” Barclay said gently.

  “Yes, I can see that,” the Doctor said, shifting his gaze to Cambridge’s face. The counselor noted a hardening of the Doctor’s features, but that was not unexpected.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Barclay said, offering Cambridge a final stern look before he departed.

  The two faced each other with several meters between them. After a short silence, the Doctor said, “I assume Reg has briefed you?”

  “Yes,” Cambridge replied.

  “Had Admiral Janeway not ordered me to participate in these sessions with you—” the Doctor began.

  “Me neither,” Cambridge interjected.

  “Really?” the Doctor said, evidently surprised. “I imagined you would enjoy finding yourself in this position.”

  “What position is that?”

  “Power,” the Doctor replied. “I am no longer free to hide thoughts and feelings from you that I would prefer remain private.”

  Cambridge exhaled slowly. “Doctor, nothing you have ever thought or felt about me was hidden.”

  The Doctor’s face assured the counselor that he had unintentionally added insult to injury.

  “When were you first activated, Doctor?” Cambridge asked.

  “Eleven years, two months, twenty-nine days ago.”

  “And have you ever met an eleven-year-old who was at all challenging to read?”

  “No,” the Doctor admitted.

  “Nor have I,” Cambridge said. “You care deeply for Seven. Your concerns about her choice to enter into a relationship with me were well founded. I am hardly a textbook example of maturity or emotional stability. My personal relationships tend to be rather fraught and usually end badly. While your response to this situation was a little extreme, the insights upon which it was based were wise beyond your years and perhaps even prescient.”

  The Doctor accepted this grudgingly.

  “I know you don’t remember the conversation, but do you think it was possible that you asked Doctor Zimmerman to alter your memories?”

  “No,” the Doctor insisted. “Had I suspected it was possible, I would have refused to allow him to make the modifications. Upset as I was, I have faced emotionally and ethically challenging situations in the past and managed to survive. I did not doubt my ability to rise to this one as well, although apparently my creator did not share that confidence.”

  “Pain is a problem for most people.” Cambridge shrugged. “Avoidance is common. What Doctor Zimmerman did in the name of relieving your suffering was really nothing more than salve for his own conscience. He identified a shortcoming in his programming and decided to rectify it. Very few parents can endure the sight of their children’s pain. Only the strongest develop the ability to witness it without interference, allowing the child to develop its own critical coping mechanisms. Adolescent rebellion has as much to do with a child’s need to test boundaries as their developing sense that they must learn to survive without their parents.”

  “At least we agree on that much,” the Doctor noted.

  “Before you spoke with Doctor Zimmerman, had you accepted the reality that Seven would likely never reciprocate your feelings for her?”

  “Long ago,” the Doctor replied.

  “Then why was your reaction to our relationship so intense?”

  The Doctor raised a droll eyebrow in Cambridge’s direction.

  “It was more than my unsuitability as a potential partner,” Cambridge insisted.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “It had to be.”

  “Why?”

  “Because on my worst day, I’ve got nothing on this man Axum, into whose arms you thrust her so eagerly. He is a victim of sustained abuse. Being Borg was horrific enough, but at least while Borg, he didn’t know better. Seven and Admiral Janeway then freed him to live for years as a conscious victim of pure evil. The Borg Queen drove him to attempt suicide and since his rescue, he has apparently suffered only slightly less at the hands of Starfleet Medical. It will take him years to process all he has endured, and if you think he’s going to be a stable and loving partner in the meantime, we may have larger problems with your program to address.”

  “If you are so certain that Axum will be unable to sustain a relationship with Seven, why are you convinced she will not return to the fleet?”

  Cambridge lifted his head to the heavens in search of patience. After a deep breath he replied, “Seven is an extraordinarily stubborn and capable woman who feels responsible for Axum’s current condition. She will not rest until she is certain he can survive without her, and that day will never come.”

  The Doctor scrutinized Cambridge in silence. Finally he said, “I think it’s possible you underestimate her.”

  Cambridge laughed bitterly. “Well, you have more experience in that regard than I do.”

  The Doctor bristled. “I have never treated her as anything less than—”

  “Than a hapless victim in need of a firm guiding hand?” Cambridge finished for him. “Come now, Doctor. Isn’t Seven almost as much your creation as you are Doctor Zimmerman’s?”

  “Of course not,” the Doctor replied, stricken.

  “Think back as best you can to the early days and months,” Cambridge suggested. “You were her mentor, weren’t you?”

  “One of many.”

  Now it was Cambridge’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

  “You believe I have somehow infantilized Seven?”

  “While love remains a deep and disconcerting mystery, I don’t think it is
surprising that I was the first man Seven chose to explore her sexuality with. I had never seen her as less than an adult. I had no desire to parent her. Her innocence was part of her charm, but hardly the most alluring part.”

  The Doctor shook his head slowly. “I honestly don’t know,” he finally allowed. “When I think of Seven now, I don’t remember how I used to feel. I see her in flashes, fragments of moments, but the emotional context has vanished. I can no longer access the data required.”

  For a fraction of a second, Cambridge found himself envying the hologram.

  “How do you suggest we proceed?” the Doctor asked.

  “Can we start by sitting?” Cambridge asked.

  After a moment, the Doctor nodded. “Yes.”

  FIFTH SHUDKA

  It had taken Presider Cin almost two full days to advise Admiral Janeway that she had made a decision on the Seriareen matter.

  Within hours of their last meeting, General Mattings had advised the admiral that the Manticle had been stripped of its weapons and tactical systems, and its crew had been released from their holding cells. They had departed the area at best possible speed but it was hard to guess how soon they might bring word of their defeat back to the Devore.

  Apparently determining Lsia’s fate had been more difficult. Mattings stood beside Cin’s desk as she welcomed Janeway and Chakotay to the Shudka.

  “I am willing to accept your assurances that you can contain any threat posed to my people by the Seriareen and am ready to release them to your custody,” Cin said as soon as Chakotay and the admiral had taken their seats.

  Chakotay should have felt a certain amount of relief when Presider Cin issued her verdict. But it surprised him too much for that. He would have bet anything that after their last conversation, the Confederacy would have opted to execute the prisoners over Janeway’s objections. But somehow, Cin’s decision didn’t feel like progress.

  “You are unwilling to grant them access to your territory in order to determine whether or not their homeworld still exists here?” Janeway asked.

  “It does not,” Cin assured her. “Any investment of resources spent confirming that would be a waste. Our time and yours is much too valuable for that.”

  “Should my people find any evidence of Seriar’s location using independent data, would you permit my vessels to search for it?” Janeway asked. “We would, of course, restrict ourselves to any streams you designate or bypass them completely and use our slipstream drives to conduct our research.”

  Cin’s eyes hardened. “Voyager and Galen are holding position outside the Gateway. You’ve indicated that the Vesta was dispatched to locate Demeter. While we expect one of your vessels to return our overseer of agriculture to us, at this time, there is no need for any other Federation ships to return to the Confederacy. Should your travels bring you back to this area of space at some future point,” Cin hastened to add, “we would hope you would alert us to your presence. We will always value your friendship and appreciate the opportunity for future cultural exchanges.”

  “Just not at this time,” Janeway confirmed.

  “Your visit has been more disruptive than I had anticipated,” Cin said. “We have learned a great deal and are grateful for all you have shared with us, but we require time to consider all that has transpired.”

  “May I speak frankly, Presider?” Janeway asked.

  “That has never been a challenge in the past,” Cin observed.

  “Is this choice the result of internal pressures you are receiving from the Market Consortium?”

  “Hardly,” Cin replied. “My former first consul is gathering support to turn me out of office, but this is not an attempt to secure my political future. I have weighed all of the options before me and determined the course I feel would be best for my people.”

  “This isn’t about politics,” Chakotay guessed. “It’s about faith, isn’t it?”

  Cin’s tentacles stiffened visibly but she did not reply immediately.

  “Faith?” Janeway asked.

  “If Lsia was speaking the truth, if the Seriareen did use some ancient technology to create the streams, that revelation casts doubt on the very foundations of the Confederacy’s faith in the Source,” Chakotay clarified. “I don’t doubt your ability, Presider, to weather the coming political storms, but you are unwilling to risk the chaos that might result should this story become widely known.”

  “It would be an intensely destabilizing force to our society,” Cin acknowledged.

  Chakotay turned to Janeway. Not that long ago, their thoughts and actions had been in perfect accord. Most conversations had happened in shorthand. There was simply no need for two who knew each other as well as they did to speak when a gesture or even a glance communicated their intentions so completely.

  That effortless connection had been disrupted when Kathryn left the fleet. Since her return, he had glimpsed it, but begun to doubt that they could recapture it. They seemed to constantly be finding themselves at cross-purposes.

  But not now. The edges of Kathryn’s lips curved slightly upward, mirroring his. He had been the first to grasp the truth behind Cin’s reticence, but once he had hit upon it, Kathryn had seen the only possible rebuttal as clearly as he did. She also understood that of the two, he was, by far, the better choice to give voice to that rebuttal.

  Go ahead, he almost heard her think.

  He paused. Cin had just given him what he wanted. Once Demeter was recovered, the fleet could depart the Confederacy, their prisoners in hand, and resume their current mission. Chakotay had decided after speaking directly with Lsia that the wisest course of action was to collect the remaining canisters from New Talax and send all of the Seriareen back to the Alpha Quadrant, where the resources existed to safely study them and perhaps rescue their hosts. He had never wanted to see them executed, but hadn’t expected the Confederacy to be so accommodating.

  The problem was that Cin’s decision to simply wash her hands of a complicated problem because of parochial, ignorant fear, revealed Chakotay’s inclination as little better. Hoist on his own petard, Chakotay began by shifting his gaze to General Mattings. “Do you agree with the presider’s decision?” he asked.

  Mattings’s shoulders tensed visibly. “It is not my place to question the presider’s choices,” he began. “Personally, if I may?” he asked of Cin.

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “While the potential impact of the Seriareen’s claims would be disruptive, I think we owe it to ourselves to see if they are speaking the truth.”

  “Their truth would make lies of the beliefs that have built and sustained our Confederacy,” Cin argued.

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Chakotay said simply. “I have yet to encounter a system of faith that can long endure when its followers insist upon clinging to literal interpretations of its tenets. I have seen many, however, that may begin with the literal, but evolve in the light of scientific discovery and scrutiny to something much richer. You look to the Source for guidance and truth. My people have a larger, more eclectic pantheon of spirits that offer the same deeper insights into the mysteries of existence. Whether or not the Source actually carved the streams of the great river is as irrelevant as whether or not a raven impregnated a woman with a child that demanded the stars, the moon, and sun as playthings and then threw them out of the smoke-hole of its cave into the heavens.

  “Your people have understood for centuries that something beyond the normal experience of day-to-day life calls them to live with compassion and respect for one another. The Source brings a sense of order to the chaos all around you. Does it matter if it built the streams through its own divine purpose or inspired the hearts and minds that built the technology to serve that purpose?”

  “It matters a great deal if the hearts and minds belonged to megalomaniacal aliens who claim the Source’s powers for their own without offering credit or even thanks to the being that inspired them,” Cin argued.

  “Does
it?” Chakotay asked. “Is the Source so fragile that it requires gratitude? Or is it beyond such petty, temporal needs? The Source is, just as the gods of my fathers are, whether we worship them or not. They don’t need us nearly as much as we need them.”

  Cin’s eyes shifted under Chakotay’s gaze, finally settling upon those of General Mattings.

  “Do you agree, General?”

  Mattings nodded somberly. “I admit, my faith has never been all my parents desired, but it has sustained me through some very dark times. To know more would not diminish that. To understand the Source as a living entity, still capable of and intent upon revealing itself to us, might actually bring our people closer to it. To refuse to even ask the questions doesn’t feel right. Are we the Source’s children, only capable of walking in limited light? Or does it call us to live in the full brilliance of enlightenment? That the Seriareen did not know the Source does not trouble me. They were warped by their own selfish desires and dared to call their arrogance truth. But they were ultimately brought low. You fear what they might show us. I wonder what we might show them.”

  Cin sighed deeply. “I am afraid,” she began, but stopped herself. Finally she said, “But policy should not be born of fear.”

  “No, it shouldn’t,” Janeway agreed.

  “What do you suggest?” Cin asked warily.

  The admiral smiled and made her proposal.

  An hour later, the logistics had been settled. Janeway and Chakotay were escorted to the Shudka’s shuttlebay, where their craft was waiting to ferry them back to Voyager.

  Once their course was set, Janeway said simply, “Thank you.”

  Chakotay nodded, then asked, “Why is this so much harder now?”

  Janeway shrugged. “We know the Confederacy too well to trust their motives.”

  “I wasn’t actually talking about the mission.”

  “Oh.”

  After a lengthy silence, Chakotay said, “Do you think we made a mistake?”