Atonement Read online

  Torres read for a few minutes in silence until Kim interrupted. “What is it?”

  She lifted her face to him, but her eyes were glued to the blank wall over his shoulder. “We’re on our sixth generation of bioneural gel packs. System integration errors have been nonexistent since the third upgrade. There’s nothing wrong with the interfaces.”

  “Apparently there is now,” Kim corrected her.

  “No, there isn’t. But Nancy is right. The regulators are the weakest interface point, and you have to get past those in order for the surges we detected to affect other systems.”

  “Right. The regulators malfunctioned and the surges spread,” Kim said. “I still can’t figure out how they affected our holodeck’s segregated power supplies. It’s not as if they are disconnected from the rest of the ship. They’re just a discrete system.”

  Torres sighed, shaking her head. “Forget the holodecks for a second. The first surge detected was in the Van Cise.”

  “So?”

  “That was the shuttle Neelix returned to us. The one Meegan stole. We rebuilt most of the central processing and power distribution systems when Neelix brought it back to us. I always assumed she was in such bad shape because of what the Talaxians did to her to get her flying again. But they didn’t give us their engineering reports. For all we know, they didn’t even touch the primary systems. We were all focusing on the data cores that were completely fried apart from the logs Neelix was able to restore.”

  “Did you replace the gel packs?”

  “All of them,” Torres replied. “So they all had brand-new regulators that wouldn’t have come from the same stock as the ones on Voyager that have been in use for almost a year now.”

  “Maybe we have a bigger problem with the regulators than we thought: a design issue.”

  “The moment the shuttle was returned, our diagnostic scanners were connected to it via hard lines; anything on that shuttle could have moved into our primary systems,” Torres offered.

  “But there are buffers in those lines that screen for any unusual signals. Nothing showed up at the time, did it?”

  “No,” Torres agreed. “But we weren’t looking that closely, either.”

  “What do you think was on that shuttle?” Kim asked.

  “Something that could live in the gel packs until it found a way to move into our primary systems,” Torres replied. “A virus, maybe.”

  “Something meant to destroy the ship?” Kim asked.

  “No,” Torres insisted. “If you’re right, and the Scion spared Voyager after disabling us completely, that means they wanted us alive. Meegan ordered them to hold their fire.”

  “Lsia.”

  “Whatever. If she wanted the ship intact it would only be because there is something of value here, something she sent back to us on that shuttle.”

  Kim nodded thoughtfully. “I’m going to—”

  “Review those tactical logs,” Torres finished for him. “And I’m going to go over those shuttle diagnostics again.”

  “Should I wake up Chakotay?”

  “Not yet,” Torres said. “Not until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  16

  STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS

  SAN FRANCISCO

  Commander Tom Paris took it as a good sign that shortly after his arrival at Admiral Montgomery’s office, he, Doctor Sharak, and Lieutenant Wildman were ushered inside by his aide. That optimism endured until the moment he saw the admiral’s face.

  “Commander Paris,” Montgomery began, “I trust you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble while enjoying your liberty?”

  Paris smiled tightly. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Admiral, an issue has arisen regarding a civilian assigned to the Full Circle Fleet, Seven.”

  “I am,” Montgomery confirmed. “She was briefly released from her duties at Starfleet Medical and has failed to report back in a timely manner. Starfleet security is now scouring the surface of this planet for any sign of her. It appears her last recorded transport was performed by a cadet with whom I know you are familiar. The transport logs in question show signs of tampering. While no blame has yet been assigned, Cadet Icheb has been relieved of his post until the matter can be resolved. We both know Seven and Icheb are very close. It will be a great disappointment to his Academy advisors should it be confirmed that he has been assisting her in evading our personnel.”

  Paris accepted this body-blow stoically, keeping his face completely neutral. “Admiral, I have prepared a full report for you, outlining Seven’s experiences while at Starfleet Medical. She has made a number of troubling discoveries of which I believe you should be aware.”

  “Save it, Commander,” Montgomery said briskly. “Doctor Pauline Frist has already briefed me thoroughly on the matter. I know you are aware of the nature of Seven’s assignment, and I know you understand how seriously we take classified data. Seven’s actions thus far are unsupportable, although sadly, not at all out of character. She has been given far too much authority in the past, despite her civilian status, and that’s going to end as soon as she is found.”

  “Admiral, if you would read my report, or just allow me to present the highlights,” Paris attempted.

  “Starfleet Medical and the Federation Institute of Health are currently engaged in a desperate attempt to contain a deadly and highly infectious plague caused by Caeliar catoms. Anything and everything they deem necessary to complete this work has been authorized by their superior officers and neither you, nor I, nor Seven are in any position to question their actions. Just because you do not see the full picture doesn’t mean that those directing Starfleet Medical’s efforts are not well aware of their moral and ethical boundaries. I can you assure you that they are acting well within the law and working tirelessly to secure the safety of all Federation citizens.”

  “Admiral—”

  “Mister Paris,” Montgomery cut him off, “I’m going to ask you this once. Are you currently aware of Seven’s whereabouts?”

  Paris swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat but did not reply immediately.

  “I’m going to take your silence as a yes,” Montgomery said. “You are hereby ordered to return her to Starfleet Medical immediately. Should you fail to do so, you will be subject to disciplinary action, including possible court-martial.”

  Turning his fierce gaze toward Sharak and Wildman, the admiral continued, “Where have you two been? Your last report to Doctor Frist was very disturbing. You claimed that some hospital volunteer on Coridan was responsible for infecting some of the patients there with the plague and also attempted to disperse the plague more widely. The authorities on Coridan have thoroughly investigated these claims and found nothing to substantiate them or directly link them to the individual you identified, who was apparently killed in a tragic accident.

  “After adding to the incredible workload of the hospital’s staff, you advised Doctor Frist that you were headed to Ardana but you never arrived there. You were, however, apparently sighted on Aldebaran a few days ago by a student, and a vessel registered to Lieutenant Wildman’s husband was recorded as being in orbit of the planet for almost three days.”

  “We chose to investigate Aldebaran rather than Ardana, given its proximity to Cordian,” Wildman offered weakly.

  “Without advising any of your superiors of a change in flight plans?” Montgomery demanded.

  “Yes, sir,” Wildman replied.

  “Do either of you know anything about an explosion that occurred in a residential area within the quarantine district at New Kerinna?” the admiral asked.

  Now it was Wildman’s turn to hold her tongue.

  Sharak interjected softly, “Admiral Montgomery, there are a number of pertinent facts that Doctor Frist has failed to bring to your attention.”

  “There are only a few facts that concern me right now, Doctor Sharak. Paramount among them is the fact that Starfleet is still in the process of recovering from the loss of billions of Federation
citizens. Not only is it not within my purview, but it is not my inclination to question the actions of any individuals who are now devoting themselves to securing the Federation’s future and preventing any similar losses.”

  It was now clear to Paris that Doctor Frist had chosen, even in the light of Sharak’s evidence, to protect Commander Briggs and was attempting to preempt any effort to cast doubt upon his work or motives. It was also clear that Montgomery was not going to place himself or his career on the line by defending the actions of a few renegade officers. He sees what he wants to see.

  “I don’t know what kind of games you people think you’re playing or what authority you believe you have been granted to engage in these reckless activities, but they end now.” Montgomery continued, “Doctor Sharak, you will return to your quarters at Starfleet Medical until further notice. Lieutenant Wildman, you have a post that you have deserted. If you expect to keep it, you will return to it at once and I will leave any disciplinary actions to your direct superiors. Commander Paris, you already have your orders. As soon as Starfleet Medical is ready to release Seven, or advises us that she cannot be released in the near future, I will let you know.”

  Sharak looked ready to object, but a glance from Paris silenced him.

  “I advised Admiral Janeway before she assumed command of the fleet that all those under her would be expected to comport themselves appropriately in the future. You are not the only officers she commanded whose past choices raise serious questions about your fitness to serve. It appears she has not communicated the seriousness with which we take our sacred trust or the scrutiny under which you are all being observed. I hope I’ve made that clear.”

  Paris said, “Thank you, Admiral,” before following Sharak and Wildman out of his office.

  • • • • •

  No one spoke as Paris led Sharak and Wildman out of Starfleet Headquarters. Foot traffic was heavy this time of morning. As soon as they had cleared the stone benches and hedges that lined the wide entrance, Paris diverted them onto the short grass toward a cluster of flowering trees that dotted the landscape.

  Once they had reached relative seclusion, Paris quipped, “I think that went well, don’t you?”

  “Tom,” Wildman chided him.

  “Seven was right. When isn’t Seven right?” Paris asked rhetorically.

  “What are our options now, Commander?” Sharak asked.

  “Depends,” Paris replied. “Do you like serving in Starfleet?”

  “Not at the moment,” Sharak replied honestly.

  Wildman smiled and placed a hand on Sharak’s shoulder. “What he’s trying to say is that we have no options. I have to get back to my post, and you have to return to your quarters until further notice.”

  “I cannot do that,” Sharak said simply.

  Wildman moved to stand directly in front of Paris. “I know you’re disappointed, Tom, but there’s nothing more we can do. Briggs and Frist have beaten us to the punch. For all we know, Montgomery and everyone else at his level already know what Briggs is doing to unlock catomic programming and have decided that security trumps ethics.”

  “I refuse to believe that anyone who has taken the Starfleet oath could possibly condone intentionally infecting innocent individuals with a deadly plague, let alone re-creating an extinct species for the sole purpose of using them as lab rats,” Paris said coldly. “Montgomery doesn’t know what’s going on. The problem is he doesn’t want to know. He’s right that the officers in question do not fall under his purview. They’re not technically his responsibility. He’s going to hide behind his plausible deniability and let someone else take the fall for their actions when it all comes out, which it will eventually, just not soon enough to save us, Seven, Axum, Icheb, or Riley’s people.”

  “If we follow his orders—” Wildman began.

  “Briggs and Frist have told Montgomery just enough to make them sound cooperative and make us look like we’re running around half-cocked,” Paris cut her off. “Briggs obviously let the runabout go. To admit it exists is to open himself up to accusations by the refugees from Arehaz. We already know Gres and Naomi are fine. But once Icheb’s actions are fully revealed, his career is over. He never graduates. He will never tell anyone that we asked him to tamper with those logs or perform the illegal transports. Seven might try to take full responsibility for that. But I’ve been at the Tamarian Embassy a lot and once it is revealed that the refugees are there, I’m done. I don’t go back to the fleet. I don’t get to see my son born. He’s two and Miral is five before I lay eyes on either one of them again. They’ll definitely link you two to the explosion on Aldebaran, and there go your careers along with mine.”

  “Tom.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sam,” Paris said.

  “It’s all right. I wanted to help. I still think it was the right thing to do. This is all going to come out at some point, and we will be vindicated. Until then, we have to lie low.”

  “What about Miss Seven?” Sharak asked.

  “I’ll talk to her,” Paris said. “She won’t give up Riley’s people, and as long as your embassy will have them, they’re safe. If Seven goes back now, maybe she can find a way to expose Briggs from within. If she doesn’t go back, Axum and Riley probably become unfortunate casualties of the catomic plague, and she’s not going to be able to live with that.”

  “Forgive me, Commander,” Sharak interjected, “but Admiral Montgomery cannot be the final word in this matter.”

  Paris shrugged. “He’ll already have filed a preliminary report with Admiral Akaar. The CNC is the only one above Montgomery, and you can bet if we try to go over Montgomery’s head, Akaar won’t even take the meeting now.”

  “What about the president?” Sharak asked.

  “Of the Federation?”

  Sharak nodded. “Starfleet is hers to command, is it not?”

  “Technically, but . . .”

  “And she is a personal friend of Miss Seven’s, is she not?”

  “Yeah. I already played that card with Frist,” Paris admitted. “But you don’t just walk into the Palais and request a meeting with the President of the Federation. Nothing gets in front of her eyes that hasn’t been vetted by ten levels of staff beneath her, including Akaar. It’s just not how things are done.”

  “Then Seven should go to the president,” Sharak suggested.

  “Now that Icheb’s modifications have been discovered and disabled, the moment Seven steps off the grounds of your embassy she will be detected on Federation soil and detained. Shortly thereafter, she will be returned to Starfleet Medical. There’s no way to get her in front of President Bacco.”

  “Seven could ask the president to meet with her at the embassy,” Sharak suggested.

  “The president of the Federation does not visit foreign embassies without a year of diplomatic negotiations. Tamar is a friend of the Federation but not a member. That complicates matters more than you or I could imagine.”

  “Then I will go,” Sharak said.

  “You’ll never get a meeting with her.”

  “I will make the request and remain there until she agrees to see me.”

  “You will remain there until Starfleet security escorts you out of the building and arrests you,” Paris corrected him.

  “You and Seven should do what you can,” Wildman said. “But I have to get back to my lab.”

  “I know,” Paris said. “I’ll get in touch with Gres and as soon as I do, I’ll let you know.”

  Wildman nodded and turned to Sharak. “You’ve done well, Doctor. You fought the good fight. It’s just not our fight to finish.”

  “Shaka,” Sharak said softly.

  Wildman smiled sadly. “When the walls fell.”

  “They took a thousand years to build,” Sharak said.

  “What did?” Paris asked.

  Wildman shushed him and looked back to Sharak as he continued.

  “Shaka had ruled his people justly and wisely. His ancestors ha
d built the first wall that surrounded his kingdom. Each successive generation added to its size and majesty. Our people did not fly among the stars in those days, but the walls would have been visible from space by the time Shaka took the throne.

  “Tama sent a messenger to Shaka. He had already united all of his children outside the walls. Tama was the father of all. No walls could change that. He asked Shaka to tear them down. Shaka laughed. No one would ever rule over him. His walls would see to that.

  “Shaka killed the messenger and sent his body back to Tama. Then he waited for Tama’s army to arrive. No army came. Only Tama. When he reached the northern face, Tama took a single breath and blew.

  “The walls fell.

  “Shaka failed to stand against Tama because no one can stand against Tama. He is the father of all, no matter what we choose to call ourselves, what colors our armies wear, or how high the walls appears that divide us from one another. We are all one. No wall is stronger than the truth.”

  Wildman nodded. “Temba. At rest,” she said softly and opened her arms.

  Sharak embraced her, saying, “Ubaya of crossed roads.”

  “Sharak on the ocean?” Wildman asked.

  “His sails unfurled.”

  Without another word, Sharak turned and was soon lost in the crowds moving in and out of headquarters.

  “What’s he going to do?” Paris asked.

  “What he has to,” Wildman replied. “What I might, if I didn’t have Gres and Naomi to worry about.”

  Paris shook his head. “I’ll go give Seven the bad news.”

  TAMARIAN EMBASSY

  Night was better than day. Night was cool. Night was safe. Night was freedom.

  This had always been true. In the caves it had always been night, and Shon had been free to run as far as he wanted. He never wanted to run farther than the sound of his mother’s voice, but then he had been a child.

  Now he was big. Bigger. Big enough.

  Night on his home planet was long. The days were too hot to run, and mother had needed him to play with the babies. At night, he was free to explore the world outside the tents. It felt familiar. It felt safe.