Authors: Dean Wesley Smith,Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction
The pneumatic doors hissed open and the captain came in. A strand of hair had escaped her normally neat bun and her uniform was rumpled. She probably hadn't eaten or slept since the away team disappeared. Truth be told, he hadn't slept either. He was worried about the whole team, yes, but mostly he worried about Kim. That little guy had become like a kid brother to him, and Paris wasn't going to lose him like this. "Gentlemen," Janeway said. "Our focus has shifted sli ghtly." She quickly explained the discovery of chroniton particles emitting from the ships and the source of those particles in the caverns below the surface. "I'd like you to find that source and see it is usable for us if I determine we need to send a rescue team." "If Kjanders speaks the truth," Tuvok said, "we risk losing a second away team." "I know," Janeway said. "I can't ignore an opportunity, though, when it presents itself to me in this way. I also cannot rely on a man that none of my officers trust." Paris winced inwardly at that. There was once a time when none of her officers trusted him. He wasn't sure how many did now. But she did, and Kim did, and, in his own way, Chakotay did.
That was all that mattered. Still, Paris always felt as if he had to prove himself. Janeway must have read the expression on his face, because she said, "I don't want you pulling any grandstand stunts. Is that understood?" She looked at Paris.
He grinned. The movement made his windburned skin crack. "At least," he said, "we'll be out of the wind." "Captain?" Chakotay broke in on the comm.
His voice sounded powerful even through a system that made most people sound tinny. "Go ahead," Janeway said.
"That humanoid form appeared again on the planet's surface. Briefly, just like before." "How long did it last?" Janeway asked.
"Actually, there were two appearances," Chakotay said. "One for just a fraction of a second inside a ship and the other for almost a second outside the same ship." "Which ship?" Paris asked.
"The ship a quarter of a kilometer to the north of the original landing site." Paris closed his eyes. His hunch had been right.
If he had told the captain, they might have had some answers by now. "Commander," Janeway said, "did you check for a transporter beam residual?" "Captain," Tuvok said softly, "he will find our beam's residual in that location." "'Filter out the beam that originated on Voyager," Janeway said, glancing at Tuvok.
"One moment," ChAkotay said.
"Captain," Paris said, "we were about to go into that ship just before we beamed out." "If their ghost has transporter and cloaking abilities, Mr. Paris, I doubt you would have surprised it. More likely it was trying to set up a trap for you," Janeway said.
Then Chakotay broke in. "I found a different transporter trace than the one that Voyager uses. The humanoid was the same in both appearances." "So far," Tuvok says, "it appears we are dealing with one person. I suspect our ghost works for Kjander's Control in one form or another." "And he's trying to scare us away?" Paris asked. "That makes no sense." "We know of at least one occasion when it worked," Tuvok said. "Neelix did tell us that Alcawell was haunted." Janeway smiled sadly. "That he did." "Captain," Tuvok said, "I believe that the cloaking device our ghost uses might function in a similar fashion to a Romulan cloaking device.
If that is the case, tracing it should be fairly simple." A slight frown appeared between Janeway's eyes. It was a single line, really, and Paris had already noted that it meant Janeway was concentrating on sornething, her mind light-years away.
"Exactly, Mr. Tuvok," she said, finafly. "I'll get right on it." She spun and hurried from the transporter room.
"Wow," Paris said. "You sure know how to excite her." "I have observed," Tuvok said, "that she does enjoy logic." I Kjanders sank into a chair in the officers" mess. The coffee Chakotay had given him had left him jittery and full of energy. He had used that energy to explore several sections of the ship. Voyager was huge, and it wasn't a passenger ship, as many of the crew had been more than willing to tell him. One woman with a ridged nose, small chin, and jewelry on her ear of all places had told him that the captain would be willing to take him anywhere he wanted, but it would be a one-way trip only. He didn't even know what these PlanetHoppers used for money-or if they had a barter system, as Alcawell had had before time travel of necessity shut that system down.
His brilliant idea to get into a shuttle and go to the future had been a bust. Alcawell was deserted and PlanetHopping was a frightening prospect. He hadn't 162 expected adventure to be so difficult.
Everything else had come easily for him. He had thought this would too.
One of the ensigns working the mess had remembered him and offered him more coffee. The cup cooled beside him. He stared out the windows. They provided him a display of his future-long blackness extending forever, his home planet shrinking in size the farther away from it he got. This patriotism of his, surprised him. He had thought he would have been happy to escape Alcawell. He was happy to be away from Control, but this starship wasn't much better. Their regulations just weren't as fierce. The woman monitoring one of the small stations near engineering hadn't even let him touch her computer. As if he would have done anything. Yet.
His original plan had been to take over the ship. He had thought it would be easy. All Alcawellians were taught that PlanetHoppers were slow and stupid. But they weren't. They weren't able to back-time to prevent a crime, but they had other methods. One of them was to build things so large that a single man couldn't take them over.
If he could get to the transporter equipment, though, he might be able to modify it and, using Caxton's theories, build a primitive timetravel machine.
Then he snorted. If he had had any real engineering ability, he wouldn't have turned to a life of crime. Engineers were the comonly truly free people on Alcawell. 163 He had always flunked those tests. His tests had continually shown him to be bureaucratic material and nothing else.
His only chance to remain on this ship-and to get time to learn how to use it-was to do as he had heard Kes had done. He had to make himself so useful that they couldn't get rid of him. But what skills did he have? He was a good thief. He was able to get himself out of tight situations, and he was agile.
Otherwise, he was bureaucrat material, and what place needed another bureaucrat?
Finally he sipped the tepid liquid and wrinkled his nose. Still too bitter. But he kind of liked the jitters the coffee gave him. With more energy, he would be able to explore more.
"I knew I would find you here." Chakotay's voice boomed across the room. Kjanders closed his eyes. More questions. If he had wanted questions, he would have let Control catch him before he left Real Time Period 889. A chair scraped across the floor, then groaned as Chakotay sat. "Discovered that coffee was to your taste, huh?" Kjanders suppressed a sigh and opened his eyes.
"I like its effects. You didn't tell me it's a drug." "A minor stimulant," Chakotay said. Then he peered into Kjanders's cup. "Well, maybe not so minor with all that sugar you've poured in there." Kjanders picked up the cup, feeling a bit defensive about its contents. The sugar was the only thing that made thestuff taste good. "I take it this is not a social visit." Chakotay shook his head. "We're sending a team into the past. We need to know from you what to expect and what to avoid." Kjanders moved so quickly the coffee ran down the front of his suit. The brown stain against the brilliant blue looked faintly disgusting. "That's insane," he said.
"We understand that travel within Periods is a serious crime," Chakotay said. "We just want to get our people in and out without getting caught." "They'll catch you," Kjanders said. "They always do."; "Control seems all-powerful," Chakotay said. "If they're that powerful, why haven't they caught you?" "Because this place is empty," Kjanders said.
"That's why I got away with it in the first place.
I thought maybe they didn't know where I was, that I got lost in the system somehow, but no. They knew I was coming here and they knew I wouldn't survive. So why waste all that energy and back-time just for little old me." A bitterness he hadn't known he felt came through as he spoke. He brushed at the coffee stain, but couldn't get it off with his hands. Chakotay handed him a cloth from a nearby table. The cloth smelled of vinegar. "How can we make certain our people get lost in the system?" Kjanders mopped at'the stain.
The combined smell of vinegar and coffee reminded his stomach that it didn't like the new liquid. "Look, Commander, let me explain it to you in this fashion.
Say you're Control and I wanted to escape-from you.
I jump up and run leg out the door, or transport to the surface, or even jump back in time. Anything. And I am successful at my getaway." Chakotay nodded.
"So, you as Control declare a Time Alarm and simply short-jump a force back to the moment I am running out the door. They would greet me there and my escape would never take place." Chakotay sat back in his chair, his hands folded over his belly. He was obviously thinking and Kjanders let him think. After a moment he sat forward again. "So the only chance of success would be to stay out of ControPs hands and their attention. Right?" "Correct," Kjanders said. "But the problem is that your crew members are in Control's hands, so even if you did rescue them, the rescue attempt would always be stopped. Always.
Once Control has you, you can never, ever get away." Chakotay pushed himself to his feet. "There has to be something we are missing," Chakotay said. "Some way to rescue them." Kjanders kept mopping. The stain had woven its way into the fibers. If this stuff was so difficult on clothing, what was it doing to his insides?
"Kjanders," Chakotay said softly, "if there is a way, and you happen to think of it, I am sure the captain would be very pleased." Kjanders grimaced, directing the look at the stain, even though it was really for Chakotay. Finally, the idea he had been playing with had presented itself-a way to become indispensable. Only the way to become indispensable was the way to get himself killed.
He sighed. He wouldn't help them with this one.
He couldn't. He set the cloth down. "Give it up, Chakotay. You can't help your people. You'll only lose more people." "No wonder your Control became so strong," Chakotay snapped. "You people give up before even trying$19 "No," Kjanders said. "We just value our lives."
17 IT WAS NOT A GOOD DAY TO DJE.
Torres used to hate that phrase of her mothees.
Her mother, staunch Klingon"...t she was, sometimes went inta a difficult situation saying, Today is a good day to die. And little B'Elanna never agreed. There never was a good day to die.
And if there had been, today would not have been it. Her pacing seemed to have caught on. Kim was pacing too.
They were stalking the room like caged animals. She knew each centimeter of this place, from its neon green carpet to its puce furniture. No windows, only pink walls in the main quarters, lots of red and chrome in the kitchen and bathroom.
Neelix was sitting on the floor. He had dug the blossoms she had picked off the trees out of the garbage and was pulling them apart, petal by petal.
Ioo Their stench filled the room, which was probably why Torres was thinking of her mother again, but she didn't have the heart to tell Neelix to quit. "She loves me," Kim said as Neelix pulled one petal. Torres stopped and looked at him. Had Kim finally gone over the edge? "She loves me not," Kim said as Neelix plucked another petal. "Whatever are you doing?" Torres asked.
Kim's grin was sheepish. "It's an old child's game. We played it on Earth. When there's one petal left you know-is it a "she loves me" or a "she loves me not"? It should be "Will they kill me" or "Will they kill me not."" "Will they kill me," Neelix recited as he pulled one petal. "Will they kill me not?" "Stop it!" Torres reached down, grabbed the offensive blooms, and took them into the kitchen.-This time she put them in a compactor unit and turned it on. The scent of wilted petals filled the kitchen like a bad perfume. Neelix sighed. "I suppose that really wasn't funny." "I don't think any of this is really funny," Kim said. "Neither do L" Torres stood in the archway between the kitchen and living quarters. "And it feels wrong to me to wait for some bureaucrat to get us through a system that doesn't care about us at all." "But what can we do?" Kim said. "We already saw how they back-time to get to us, often at the point where we just thought of the action," "And," Neelix said, "as much faith as I have in your 1169 wonderful Captain Janeway, I don't believe even she can find us in this horrible place." "If she even tried," Kim said, "she would probably run into the same problems we did." "My," Torres said, "aren't we a cheery bunch?" The other two looked away. Neelix wiped off his hands and stood. Kim flopped on a nearby couch.
"I've been thinking," Torres said. "Rawlik is right. They'll catch us no matter what. Unless we succeed." "What?" Neelix asked.
Kim sat up. "Exactly," he said. "If we succeed and get back to our own time, they won't back up time to get us." "There are days when explanations seem clear," Neelix muttered, "and days when I believe I left my brain in its jar beside my bed." Both Torres and Kim turned to him with surprise. "Figuratively speaking," he said.
"We're going to have to try," Torres said.
"Even if we fail, at least we will have known that we tried." "Good point," Neelix said. "I hope." She looked at him. "Can you draw the guard in the hall closer to the door?" "Can I draw the guard closer to the door?" he said in a chiding way. "Just watch." "Wait!" Torres said. "Let me explain this idea. I'll need your help too, Ensign. I think the only hope we have is to get back to the smaller time shuttle we came in and catch a ride back. If we make it that far, I assume we've made it." "That makes sense," Kim said. "If they're going to stop us, they'll do it before we get on the shuttle." "And if we take the guard as a hostage," Neelix said, "then they'd have to stop us before we got to him. Right?" "Right," Torres said and for the first time a faint ray of hope cut through the gloom in her mind. If they did manage to get to the guard, then a hostage might do the trick. "Let's move. Neelix, do your stuff. Get him close and I'll grab him." Her blood was racing at the thought of battle. This felt right. They were taking action.