Atonement Page 21

  She knew him too well to believe this likely. Soon, it wouldn’t matter.

  Captain Chakotay, a tall man with coloring similar to her own and an intricate black design on his forehead, entered the brig, moving to stand directly across from her. She had found his questions in their last interview revealing. He trusted her less than any of those present. He had likely counseled against accepting her request for assistance. It was a pity that his voice had not carried the day.

  She lifted her shoulders and chin. She was his prisoner. For now.

  “Welcome back to Voyager,” he greeted her.

  “It is a definite improvement over my previous quarters,” she said.

  A faint smile of acknowledgment vanished from his lips before it was fully formed. “My crew has reviewed your data and believes they have discovered the likely location for Seriar. It is, as you feared, in an area of unstable space. We are formulating strategies for safe navigation through the area, but should we find it too dangerous, we may not be able to offer you the assistance you hoped for.”

  “You don’t strike me as a man who runs from danger,” Lsia observed.

  “I do when it’s avoidable,” he countered. “I’m as curious as the next, but I’m more than willing to live without answers if it means protecting my ship and my crew. Unfortunately for you, my ego isn’t quite that fragile.”

  “So I see.”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of Admiral Janeway, the ship’s counselor, the holographic doctor, and Lieutenant Barclay. Of the four, Barclay was the only one that approached her cell with any trepidation.

  He was right, of course, to still fear her. The rest were fools not to.

  “Hello, Lsia,” the admiral said once she had settled herself beside Chakotay.

  “Have the others been released from their previous holding cells?” Lsia asked.

  “Tirrit and Adaeze are now aboard the Galen. Emem will be transferred to the Third Calvert as soon as General Mattings returns,” Janeway replied.

  “Where has he gone?” Lsia asked.

  “I don’t know,” Janeway admitted. “But he is expected back by the end of the day. I can assure you that Emem is quite safe and remains in what appears to be good health.”

  Emem has not yet done anything stupid. Excellent.

  “I’ll advise you of our progress,” Janeway continued. “You will remain here during our explorations but a comm panel has been installed in your cell and should we require your input, it will be activated in order for you to communicate directly with our bridge officers.”

  “Can’t I—” she began. “That is, I am understandably anxious to be among the first to see Seriar when we arrive there.”

  “This cell has been equipped with a special anti-psionic field. You have said that you cannot transfer out of your current host until that host is destroyed, but just in case, we’ve taken this extra precaution. This is the only location on the ship where we can be assured that you are completely contained and for now, I’m afraid you will have to remain here.”

  “I understand.”

  Janeway nodded to Chakotay and together they moved to speak quietly to Barclay, the Doctor, and Cambridge. Lsia could not hear their conversation, but after a few minutes, the admiral and Chakotay departed. The Doctor looked to Cambridge and Barclay, and both of them retreated toward the door, giving the Doctor and Lsia as much privacy as was possible in the small space.

  “Hello, Meegan,” the Doctor said.

  “I am Lsia, of the Seriareen,” she replied.

  “There is a question I’d like to ask you,” the Doctor said.

  “Yes?”

  “When you took Meegan, when you invaded her program, was she frightened?”

  “No,” Lsia assured him. “I searched through every potential host at my disposal as soon as I was released. Of those present, she was the least capable of offering resistance. I sensed her unique nature, though I did not understand at the time what it was to be photonic. There was more to her than her simple programming. There was a spark, a faint essence, still unformed, and a vast blank canvas that welcomed my presence.”

  “That blank canvas was a series of buffers in her program intended to house her developing sentience,” the Doctor said.

  Lsia considered him. She did not expect his forgiveness. She had used him cruelly before departing Voyager the first time. But he was the only other individual in the universe now who might actually understand her, and with his help, she might more quickly develop the intensity of feelings he was currently displaying.

  With a thought, she shifted her appearance, reverting to Meegan’s original form. She hoped this might comfort him.

  He smiled quizzically at her. “Never do that again,” he warned. “She was an innocent. You are a monster. You don’t deserve that face.”

  Stung, she resumed her Seriareen form.

  The Doctor nodded, turned, and left the brig.

  14

  TAMARIAN EMBASSY

  When Seven and Julia materialized in the foyer of the Tamarian embassy, Commander Paris was waiting for them. A smile of relief lit his face, giving it an almost boyish appearance.

  “Mission accomplished,” Julia announced.

  “Well done, Mom,” Paris congratulated her. There was an awkward moment where he almost embraced her, but Julia retreated, saying, “I need to check on the children.”

  Paris nodded, staring after her for a moment before returning his undivided attention to Seven.

  “How did it go?” he asked. “No, wait. Everyone should hear this.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Our long-lost adventurers have returned.”

  Paris led her into a small sitting room just off the entryway where Doctor Sharak and Lieutenant Samantha Wildman were standing before an unlit fireplace. Sharak moved toward Seven immediately.

  “Harath. The sun blazing,” he said.

  “It is good to see you again too, Doctor Sharak,” Seven said, intuiting his meaning. “Lieutenant Wildman, I trust you are well,” she inquired.

  The petite blond woman stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’ve been better,” she noted.

  Seven nodded in understanding. While she appreciated the Wildman family’s willingness to assist her, she understood well how their lives had been disrupted over the last several weeks.

  “We can’t stay long,” Paris reminded them. “Sharak and Sam transported directly to the embassy as soon as their ship was in range, bypassing orbital control. I’m sure Doctor Frist will want to speak with them, given recent developments, but my presence here as the doctor’s commanding officer shouldn’t arouse any suspicion as long as we keep this brief.”

  “Do you intend to return to Starfleet Medical, Doctor?” Seven asked.

  “Only if I am forcibly detained and ordered to do so,” Sharak replied. “I believe you will be surprised when we tell you what we have discovered. Commander Paris already told us what Briggs did to you and the others. Added to our discoveries, the picture of the Commander becomes damning indeed.”

  “Of course, we can’t prove any of it,” Wildman noted bleakly.

  “Tell me,” Seven said.

  The four seated themselves around a low coffee table. Refreshments had been laid out before them, but Seven had no appetite. It should have been impossible. She had not eaten in three days. It seemed, however, that the more she used her catoms, the more energy she had.

  Doctor Sharak and Lieutenant Wildman took turns recounting their journey to Coridan, the discovery of Ria, and their suspicions that Commander Briggs was exploiting his discovery of the Planarian genome in the worst possible manner. Evidence existed to establish Ria’s connection to the patients on Coridan who had fallen to the plague, but it was decidedly tenuous. No evidence had been discovered to confirm that she had planted the device in the hospital that would have dispersed the plague more widely had it not been detected and disabled. No one present doubted Ria’s culpability.

 
Wildman’s frustration became clear once they had described what had happened on Aldebaran. Anari’s lab had contained all of the evidence necessary to expose Briggs. Much of the data had been scanned into Doctor Sharak’s tricorder while he studied Anari’s early regenerative processes. Unfortunately, he had dropped that tricorder in his haste to evacuate the lab, and it, along with any trace of Anari’s existence, had been vaporized by a small but terribly efficient explosive. Starfleet security had descended upon the building immediately and Sharak and Wildman had barely escaped detection in the immediate confusion as the Goldenbird transported them aboard, and they set course at maximum warp for Earth.

  “It might take them a few days to connect you two to the explosion,” Paris said once they had lapsed into silence. “But they’re going to figure it out pretty quickly, and we’re going to have to explain ourselves.”

  “I know,” Wildman agreed.

  “It is helpful, nonetheless,” Seven noted. “Briggs insisted to me that he had not killed anyone during his experiments. The unique regenerative properties of the Planarians explain how he could assert this truthfully, despite what I witnessed. He justifies his actions to himself by believing that as long as one of them lives, it doesn’t matter how many he destroys.”

  “Have you learned anything that might help us make a case against him?” Paris asked hopefully.

  “Not directly,” she replied. “I have spent the last several days working with Axum and Riley. Together we were able to detect and neutralize all of the catoms that were extracted from our bodies. Commander Briggs can no longer use them to experiment on anyone.”

  “Okay,” Paris said dubiously. “But doesn’t he still have the catoms from the rest of Riley’s people?”

  “He promised not to use them,” Seven said.

  “Briggs used Doctor Frist to send me a message this afternoon,” Paris said. “He’s had Frist issue a public health alert on you, Seven. If you are found anywhere, you will be immediately apprehended and taken back to Starfleet Medical.”

  “He knows I am no longer on the shuttle,” Seven realized.

  “That’s my guess.”

  “What about Gres and Naomi?” Seven asked.

  “I didn’t want to risk contacting them,” Paris admitted.

  “You don’t have to,” Wildman interjected. “Gres’s mother just sent me a message. She can’t believe how much Naomi has grown.”

  “They made it to Ktaria,” Paris realized, relieved.

  “Yes.”

  “Your husband is a very smart man, Samantha,” Paris said.

  “I know.”

  “Okay. Between all of us, we’ve figured out a lot of what’s going on. Briggs is clearly using the catomic plague as a cover for some other research. If he hadn’t sent some of his minions to artificially inflate the number of plague victims, that wouldn’t necessarily be a problem. He’s probably not the only person in Starfleet who would like to see us master catomic matter.”

  “He violated every tenet of medical ethics when he re-created a Planarian,” Wildman interjected. “That kind of work was banned after the Eugenics Wars. Everything else he’s done pales in comparison to that transgression.”

  “But right now we have no way to tie him directly to either of the Planarians you discovered,” Paris argued.

  “Even if our testimony doesn’t count for anything,” Wildman said, “Seven just said he’s also experimenting with Planarians inside of Starfleet Medical. Where are they coming from? Even if nobody else has seen them, there has to be some sort of trail. He’s getting them in there somehow.”

  “All it took was a little digging and two of his agents terminated their work, destroying all evidence of their existence,” Paris cautioned. “I have to believe he’s ready to do the same here if he thinks he’s about to be discovered. You already told Frist about Ria. So he knows we know. We have to find some concrete link; otherwise no one will believe what he’s done.”

  “The only other proof is inside his lab,” Seven said. “He has terminated operations on Ardana. He will do the same here soon enough, if he has not already done so.”

  “Are you ready to go back?” Paris asked.

  “No,” Seven replied. “Axum, Riley, and I have just begun our work. The next step is to attempt to reach the catoms that were not original to our bodies. We all believe this is possible, but we were not successful before I had to sever our communication.”

  “How long do you think it will take you to find those other catoms, and where do you plan to look?” Paris asked.

  “How do you plan to look?” Wildman asked.

  “It is difficult to explain,” Seven replied. “Our catoms seem to recognize intrinsically that they are part of something greater, connected to all other catoms. But once we attempted to search outside ourselves, there was simply too much data to process. I need a way to focus our efforts. I need to know how the plague actually began.”

  “Does anybody know that?” Paris asked.

  “Commander Briggs leads the project. He will know as much as anyone in Starfleet,” Seven replied.

  “Then why not return now and confront him?” Paris asked.

  “Once I return, I am at his mercy once again. He could easily render me unconscious without returning me to stasis. If he inhibited my neural activity it would be impossible for me to continue to connect with Axum and Riley.”

  Paris nodded. “That only leaves us one choice.”

  “What?” Sharak asked.

  “Admiral Montgomery,” Paris replied.

  A moment of silence followed. Seven was the first to break it. “I beg your pardon?”

  “He’s the admiral in charge of our current mission. Admiral Janeway commands the fleet, but he’s her superior, which makes him our direct superior here on Earth. We go to him, tell him everything we’ve learned, and let him figure out how best to proceed.”

  “Will he assist us?” Sharak asked.

  “How well do you know Kenneth Montgomery?” Wildman said simultaneously.

  Seven had already decided. “No.”

  “Seven?”

  “Even if Icheb transports me to Starfleet Command, I will be identified as soon as I arrive there. I will be taken back to Starfleet Medical before we reach the admiral’s office.”

  “I could talk to him in advance,” Paris offered. “I could ask for a guarantee that you would be protected.”

  “You would be asking him to disregard a public health alert,” Seven insisted. “In my experience, Admiral Montgomery is, first and foremost, a follower of rules. He does not disregard orders lightly, nor is he a man who has demonstrated sufficient appreciation for ethically murky situations. He is our last resort, not our first.”

  “I disagree, Seven,” Paris said. “We need help. All we can do now is run out the clock on your agreement with Briggs. Doctor Sharak needs to report his recent activities or come under suspicion.”

  “He reported them to you,” Seven said.

  “And now I am obligated to report to my superiors in turn,” Paris retorted. “The longer we delay this, the worse we all look. We know we’re doing the right thing, but nobody else does. All any of us have to lose is our commissions. When Briggs is discovered, they’re going to put him in a very dark, deep hole somewhere, and no one is ever going to hear from him again. He’s going to fight like hell to protect himself, and throwing all of us in front of a firing squad won’t trouble him in the least.

  “The fleet we serve with is under a magnifying glass right now, given our early losses,” Paris continued. “We have to do this by the book. Both Captain Chakotay and Admiral Janeway expect it of us.”

  “I will not go,” Seven insisted.

  “Okay,” Paris agreed. “The rest of us are reporting to Montgomery’s office first thing in the morning. With the ambassador’s permission, I think we should all remain here until it’s time to go.”

  “I will see to it at once,” Sharak said, rising.

  Wildm
an excused herself, leaving Paris and Seven alone. Seven wasn’t angry with Tom. She understood his choice. Seven also suspected she knew how Montgomery would respond, and the idea chilled her.

  Both turned as Ratham hurried into the room. The look on her face brought both of them to their feet immediately. “Help,” she said urgently.

  • • • • •

  Commander Paris knew what to expect when he entered the basement room that had been transformed by his mother in a matter of days. He had already seen the fruits of her labors. Seven paused for a moment in shock before following Ratham through the large double doors.

  The ancient chandeliers and sconces had been replaced with four long rows of hanging lights. These made it possible for some areas of the room to be bright as day, while others were considerably dimmer. The far wall was now lined with double bunks, each containing thick, soft mattresses and clean linens. The rest of the room had been divided into different areas, some for relaxing on sofas and chairs, some for solitary pursuits, and a large section in the center had been cleared and filled with toys and games for the children. Nearest to the entrance, one large table had been assembled that could accommodate the entire group for family-style meals. Several platters of fruit, nuts, and flatbreads were available. Most of the refugees had already lost the gaunt appearance they’d had when they first arrived. The walls and floors had been scrubbed, and all of the refugees wore new, clean clothing.

  “Your mother?” Seven asked softly as she hurried to keep pace with Ratham.

  “Is amazing, yes,” Paris agreed.

  They found Julia Paris sitting on the edge of one of the bunks, her face contorted in concern. Nocks stood beside her, and a small group of adults was gathering while others distracted the children who were not yet asleep.