Kim noted that it was the peripheral areas that were fading on the holodoc—arms, legs, and feet. “Why don’t you just turn him off?”
“No!” Zimmerman suddenly shouted, grabbing for Kes. “I may never come back on again.”
“Shh…” Kes soothed, shaking her head at Kim. “We won’t turn you off.”
“That does it.” Kim hated to be outdone by a slip of a girl, but enough was enough. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
As he was leaving, he heard Kes tell the doctor, “Don’t worry about the analysis. I’ll take care of it. You just lie there and rest.”
When Paris and Tuvok finally returned to the ship, a security team was waiting for them on the other side of the airlock.
“Stand still,” Tuvok ordered, while one of the members held out a bulky security tricorder, circling them.
Paris rolled his eyes. “I’m fine—” The security guard showed Tuvok the readout, and the chief keyed in several commands. “Certainly you are. Only two microscanners were concealed on your person. They have been disabled.”
Paris held his arms away from his sides, starting toward the turbolift.
“I’m getting out of these clothes before they self-destruct.”
“Sir!” the female security guard called after him. “Commander Chakotay wants you to report immediately to the ready room.”
Paris sighed, but waited for Tuvok to catch up. “It’s been a long day.”
As soon as they stepped through the door of the ready room, Chakotay asked, “Did you have any success?” He was in his usual chair near the desk, rather than in the captain’s seat.
“Minor,” Paris said dourly.
“Locating a chemical supply has been more difficult than we anticipated,” Tuvok explained. “However, our next attempt should prove to be more productive.”
“I did get these,” Paris offered, showing a handful of silver disks from his pocket. “They’re passes to some of the private clubs.”
Tuvok broke from his stance. “I was unaware you purchased these items.”
“I had to do something while I waited for you,” Paris countered.
“I got in a brateel game with some of the core miners and won these.”
“How did you learn how to play brateel?” Chakotay asked.
“I had nothing to do on the bridge but watch the open broadcast channels on the Hub communication lines. Brateel is no different from any other game of dice… and besides,” Paris said, shrugging, figuring he might as well admit it, “I cheated.”
Tuvok apparently took that as a personal offense. “Our mission was to locate a chemical-supply agent, not engage in shore leave, Mr. Paris.”
“Important information is exchanged in places like these clubs,” Paris insisted. “It’s where people meet and do business.
Besides, it was when I was playing brateel that I heard news about some recent computer thefts.”
“What computer thefts?” Chakotay immediately asked.
With a sly look at Tuvok, Paris told him, “There’s a bunch of beaked humanoids running around the Hub who are apparently the eyes and ears of the dark side. I met one called Rep, who told me there’s been at least three other vessels that limped in here missing their computers.
Most of them were smaller than us, and one was boarded with deadly force.”
“Now, why would anyone want old computers?” Chakotay asked, narrowing his eyes.
“What makes it even stranger is that the Tutopans have a form of chemical replication technology that’s even more energy-efficient than ours. Making new computers would take less effort than stealing them.”
“So material goods are of little consequence,” Chakotay murmured.
“No wonder information is the valued commodity.”
“From what Rep says, people usually deal in salvaged goods because they’re much harder to trace than replicated material.
Salvage can slip by the official channels.”
Tuvok’s lips were in a tight line. “We appear to be involved in a larger conspiracy.”
Chakotay glanced at the empty captain’s chair. “I hope the captain isn’t in any danger.”
“We won’t know that until we find out what’s going on,” Paris warned.
“Very well,” Chakotay said. “Get some sleep and you can go out again tomorrow. Kes has given me the chemical formula of an anesthetic that may eliminate the erratic impulses.” Tuvok nodded shortly, turning to leave, as Chakotay added, “Paris, I’d like to have a word with you.”
Paris was relieved that he didn’t have to be the one to suggest a private talk. As door closed behind Tuvok, he could tell the Vulcan wasn’t pleased, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what part of his nonexpression gave it away. Then again, maybe he was imagining things.
“Why didn’t you consult Tuvok on your brateel scheme?” Chakotay demanded. “He was in charge of this mission.”
Paris didn’t want undermine the security chief’s authority, but he had to say it. “Because every time I did consult with him, he managed to mess everything up. Sir, meaning no disrespect for Tuvok’s competence, he’s impossible when it comes to bargaining with these lowlifes. He’s too… Starfleet.”
“Aren’t you Starfleet, too?” Chakotay countered.
Paris gave him a look. “Sure, I was trained Starfleet—so were you.
But if I may say so, sir, both of us have seen the underside of Federation space, and we know how to use that experience.”
“That is true.” Chakotay bent his head, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. “What do you suggest?”
“Commander, you have to let me go alone. I could have made the contacts we needed in half the time without Tuvok.”
Chakotay shook his head. “You can’t go into the Hub alone, it’s too risky.”
“Then let me take Neelix, maybe he can help. Anyone, except for Tuvok.”
“Perhaps this is simply a way for you to experience the wild side of the Hub,” Chakotay ventured.
Paris had to grin. “I’m sure I’ll get an eyeful, sir. But I’ll also get your chemicals, and I’ll find out more about these computer thefts.
Isn’t that what you want?”
Paris held very still, trying to look innocent, as Chakotay considered his suggestion. “Very well, Lieutenant, try it your way. But I expect results.”
“You can count on me.”
Chakotay didn’t seem to be very reassured. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks, Tom. And have Neelix go along with you. You may need someone to cover your back.”
Paris wasn’t bothered by Neelix going along. He waited until he was outside the ready room before he tossed one of the silver passes into the air, neatly catching it in his other fist. The jingling sound reminded him of Dabo markers, and he started to whistle as he stepped into the turbolift. Finally, things were looking up.
Janeway had been right—the couches did make fine beds. Milla even provided them with light blankets, though the ambient temperature was perfectly comfortable.
When they woke, Milla offered them the “nourishment of your choice.”
With a straight face, Janeway asked for coffee. She didn’t expect Milla to return with a steaming hot cup of the best Vienna Roast she had ever tasted.
“That’s an indication that other people have come here from the Alpha Quadrant,” Torres mused, deep into the Tutopan version of steak and eggs. “Or they wouldn’t have the chemical specifications.”
“I suppose.” Janeway held the cup to her nose, inhaling the scent and thoroughly savoring it while she had the chance. She sometimes wondered how Torres could stay so slim with the way she ate. It must be that fantastic Klingon physiology—or else it was the endless exercises she did to burn off her aggression.
Agent Andross didn’t emerge from his private room until they began their approach for a vertical landing. Looking down, Janeway saw the rooftop grid of an enormous complex in the center of an even bigger city. Transport lines converged on the complex from eight different directions, and it had obviously been built up over centuries, with towering spires marking every level change and corner. The transport was so smooth that Janeway could hardly tell they were descending as the points of the spires rose up around them.
Janeway waited until Andross had seated himself for the landing.
Even though he hadn’t been present, his subtle maneuverings had been clear—the interior lights had been dimmed to a more comfortable level for human eyes, and last night the assistant had served the same protein beverage she had selected in the private car. Janeway couldn’t trust a man who was that quietly observant, that smoothly efficient and goal-oriented, making her suspicious of his every move.
“What is this place?” she asked Andross.
“This is the House Seat, Seanss Province.”
Torres wandered out of the rear compartment at the sound of their voices, taking a seat nearby.
“When can we meet with Administer Fee?” Janeway asked.
“Your appointment is scheduled for tonight, after the Board adjourns.”
“What about now?” Janeway asked bluntly.
The ship landed with a subtle jar, and the hum of the engines shifted as the thrusters disengaged. The smiling assistant opened the airlock and stepped to one side.
“Administer Fee won’t be available until I’ve arranged a meeting,” Andross explained. “Usually, petitioners make appointments several months in advance.”
“But you yourself agreed that the situation is urgent.” Janeway stood up, and Torres moved behind her, silently backing her up.
“That is why I brought you here.”
Janeway stepped in front of Andross, blocking him from leaving the ship. “No, I don’t think that is why you’ve brought us here.
And unless you start being honest, I’m going to corner every Tutopan I can find and get some answers for myself.”
“I don’t understand—” “Yes, you do.”
Agent Andross was breathing faster, obviously chagrined at being cornered again. “If you insist.” He motioned for Milla to step outside, then he closed the panel between them and the crew.
“There is a rule for everything in Min-Tutopa, and a way to get around every rule. You are my way around a certain rule that has been… hindering me.”
“Explain,” Janeway ordered.
“Agents of the Hub are not granted leave to return to Min-Tutopa except in extraordinary cases. Otherwise, I too must petition to the House for a return permit, and under current conditions—with the Board in a stalemate over the Supreme Arbitrator—my request wouldn’t even be considered.”
His bitter undertone almost convinced Janeway. Until now, he had maintained a scrupulously professional facade, using his politeness almost as a shield.
Of course, Torres pointed it out. “You sound as if you don’t like the way things are done around here.”
Andross shrugged. “At times… I must confess, I am frustrated. We lose sight of why things are supposed to be one way and not another, such as allowing only two of you to accompany me. Yet, I’ve sworn to uphold the rules of our society.”
“You just said you’re using us to get around one of those rules,” Janeway reminded him.
“I work from within the system to make change,” Andross said evenly.
“I don’t apologize when I take opportunities that arise, even when I must acknowledge it is not within my right to do so.
I serve, to the best of my ability.”
Janeway wondered at the way he said it…. “Whom do you serve?” she asked.
Andross actually smiled at that. “I serve the Board. However, my patron to the Agency was Administer Fee, and the Seanss Province is my home. Bringing you here gives me the opportunity to visit my friends and family—I have not seen them for almost a rotation.” He spread his hands wide. “So you see, you have caught me in a selfish act.”
“An understandable desire.” Janeway smiled in return, hiding her doubts. “However, we have our own needs. Has Administer Fee been informed of our situation?”
Andross gestured to the door. “If you will allow me to leave, I will let her know you’ve arrived.”
Janeway gave him her most charming smile. “I’d like to accompany you since you’re going to see Administer Fee.”
“I wish that were possible,” Andross said regretfully. “I myself will only be able to snatch a few moments of the administer’s time until the Board adjourns. Rest assured, I will remind her of the gravity of your situation.”
“I see.”
Janeway realized she would get no further with him at this juncture, so she acted as if she had been convinced, allowing Andross to lead them from the transport and down into the bewildering passages of the complex. They walked for some time through white corridors, unbroken except for door after identical door. The assistant, Milla, and several attendants trotted behind them, carrying their baggage.
Torres kept casting a wary eye over her shoulder, as if making sure the Tutopans didn’t disappear with their things.
Finally, opening one of the doors, Andross gestured inside. On either side of the main room, Janeway caught a glimpse of chambers similar to those of his luxurious transport ship. “All your needs should be provided for,” the agent told them, showing them the communications panel next to the door. “Please ring for one of my assistants if you require anything.”
Smiling his way out, Andross briefly put his hands together in a triangle. Apparently, it was a Tutopan sign of respect. Janeway wasn’t sure why this was the first time he’d given it to her.
When he was gone, Torres wasted no time in turning to Janeway.
“This is absurd! Why don’t we just get a new computer processor?
It’s got to be easier than this.”
“All of the ship’s operations depend on that processor,” Janeway countered. “We have a long way to go, and I don’t want to rely on hardware we know nothing about. No, I intend to make every effort to have our own processor returned intact.”
“Then why do you keep letting him get away with this?” she demanded.
“What do you think Andross is doing?” the captain countered.
“He talks as if he wants to help us,” Torres complained. “But he always ends up saying no.”
“Yes, he’s quite good at manipulating the system to his own ends.”
Torres irritably picked up a delicate blue vase, giving it a cursory glance before setting it back down. “I don’t understand why you don’t…”
“Don’t do what? If I had kept protesting, I’m sure he would have found some way to confine us here. But this way…” Janeway went to the door and pushed the sensor pad. It slid open, revealing the empty corridor. “We can have a look around for ourselves.”