“You did?” the janitor asked, turning his mottled face toward Paris.
“I don’t remember.”
“You were practically unconscious.” Paris wasn’t used to feeling this guilty, but Tracer was just sitting there like a kicked dog.
“I don’t understand why they’re punishing you. It was my fault.”
“I helped you get into that section, past the Enforcer on guard.”
Tracer thought about it a moment. “I think the Enforcer is in trouble, too.”
Paris took a few steps away. “I can’t explain it to you, but you didn’t help me.”
“There was no other way for us to get into that section,” Tracer insisted doggedly. “That’s why I’m here.”
Paris groaned, kicking at the sand. “Take my word, you had nothing to do with it. This is a big mistake, you being here.”
He looked closer at Tracer. “I can understand it if you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry,” Tracer said.
“Why not? I would be.”
“It’s not your fault I trusted you.”
Paris turned away, telling himself that he had only intended to do his duty and protect his captain. Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do….”
Tracer shrugged as if that was a moot point now.
“Is breaking into their computer a good enough reason enough to leave us here to die? I didn’t even get a chance to defend myself.”
“You’ll get to say whatever you want during the interrogation,” Tracer said matter-of-factly. “First, we have to go through the testing.”
Paris stared around at the empty waste. “This is a test?”
“Didn’t you know? You are from a long ways away.” Tracer pulled his foot into the tiny slice of shade cast by the smashed transport container.
Paris shook his head. “I thought testing was only for Tutopans, to determine your place in society. I didn’t know it was like this….”
Slowly, understanding was dawning. “Those boasts I heard in the bars—people surviving incredible catastrophes—were those tests, too?”
“Probably.”
Paris shook his head. Maybe that’s why Tutopans were so bland—they got enough excitement through these tests. “Have you been through something like this before?”
“Growing up, we get tested all the time. It’s why I was chosen to be sent to the Hub, as part of Griir-Tutopa’s allotment of maintenance workers.” Tracer grimaced. “I’ve never been tested by the Cartel, only my House.”
“What are they testing us for now?”
“To prepare a matrix simulation of us for the interrogation.”
Paris looked around. “That means they must be watching us, right now.
Keeping scans focused on us.”
Tracer acted as if that was an absurd question. “They record everything, heartbeat, body temperature, brain waves, chemical reactions…”
“Why would they want to create a simulation of our responses?”
“To compare it to your reactions during the interrogation, to know when deviations occur. That way, they can find out anything they want.”
“What do you mean, find out?”
“They ask, and you tell them what you know. Like I said, I’ve never been tested by the Cartel, but I’ve heard you can say things that you didn’t even know you knew.”
Paris thought of all the technical manuals he’d been forced to read during his Academy days. If the Cartel could make him recall that information, they’d find out everything they needed to know about transporter technology. And anything else they stumbled across in his mind.
He shuddered, but tried to focus on the problem at hand. “If they’re making a matrix of our behavior and physical reactions, they must be somewhere nearby.”
Tracer nodded. “If this is Faltos, one of the moons of Griir-Tutopa, then they could be in a test ship in orbit. It looks like Faltos. Not much atmosphere and no life.”
Paris lifted his face to the endless sky. “Tracer didn’t do anything, you hear me!” he yelled. “You don’t have to do this to him. It’s all my fault, not his!” His voice rang out, swallowed by the still air, too vast for him to fill.
Tracer winced. “You don’t have to shout, they can hear you fine.”
“Well, let them listen to this.” Paris shook his fist at the sky.
“I’m not playing your games anymore!”
Tracer cast a handful of sand into the air, watching it drift back down. “I like to play games.”
Paris wiped his forehead and wearily sat down next to the janitor, wondering if he was going to turn into an unmoving lump just like him.
“How long before they come get us?”
“If this is a simulation, it could go on for days.”
“What simulation?” Paris demanded. “I thought you said we were on a moon.”
“This could be Faltos, or it might be a simulation of Faltos,” Tracer told him. “Some people say they can tell the difference, but I never believed them.”
“This might not be real?” Paris snorted. “That’s a fairly important point, don’t you think? If this is just a simulation, we might as well sit here until they bring the lunch cart around.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Why work so hard? I mean, they can’t let us die.” Paris didn’t like the expression on the janitor’s face. “I’m right, aren’t I?
People don’t actually get killed on these tests, do they?”
Grimly, Tracer stared down at the sand. “It happens all the time. My mother was killed in testing when I was barely walking.”
Both suns had risen over the horizon by the time Janeway woke.
She had fought the effects of the gas as long as she could the night before, watching the rebels take control of the tower and the communications network of the Seat. From the orders and reports she overheard, the rebels had a ridiculously easy task taking over.
Apparently, the House had never anticipated this sort of revolt. Then, shortly after Andross’s guards had moved her and Torres to an underofficial’s office and locked them inside, she had passed out again.
She checked Torres’s pulse, inadvertently waking her in the process.
She blocked the engineer’s first blow, and ducked the second. “At ease, Lieutenant!”
Torres blinked up at her, resembling nothing more than a frightened child. “Captain. What happened?”
Janeway checked the door. “We’re still locked in.”
Torres pushed herself up and staggered over to the desk. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to access the computer terminal. “It’s not working.”
Janeway touched the light pad, but the room stayed in darkness.
“They must have disconnected the power.” She tugged open the blinds, to let in more sunlight. There seemed to be little activity in the complexes of the Seat below, but there was no way to tell if that was unusual.
Torres checked under the desk and came up with nothing. Aside from a padded couch and a few chairs, the office was empty. “Now what?”
Torres asked.
Janeway thought that was a good question. Hostage situations were notorious for ending badly, and there was something about negotiating from this position of weakness that was abhorrent to her. “I’m open to suggestions, Lieutenant.”
“I say we bust out of here.” With her hands on her hips, Torres paced over to the window. It went from floor to ceiling and bowed out slightly in the middle.
Bracing herself, the Klingon grunted as she gave it a solid kick.
The clear material vibrated.
“It looks unbreakable,” Janeway said. “But we could try shoving the desk into it. Why don’t you help me?”
Together, they managed to move it a few centimeters.
“I wouldn’t try that,” someone said behind them. “You may hurt someone below.”
Janeway jerked her head around in time to see Administer Fee sit down on the bed where she had been lying a few moments ago. She let go of the desk. “You! Are you responsible for this?”
“Not entirely,” Fee said.
Janeway saw the concern and regret on the Tutopan’s face. “What do you want with us?” she asked warily.
“I apologize most sincerely for this,” Fee told them. “I didn’t realize Andross would involve you so deeply. And I want to assure you that I will do everything in my power to make reparations.”
“Good.” Janeway hardly batted an eye. “We’d like to go now.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
“Why not?”
“As you may have gathered, we’ve used your processing unit to override the communications network of the Seat.” Her gray eyes were steady, betraying an unexpected strength of character.
“Until the Board approves my nomination as Supreme Arbitrator, your processor must remain here.”
Janeway narrowed her eyes. “You and Andross, you planned this all along. You never intended to return our computer, you just wanted to keep us quiet until you executed your coup.”
“Your computer will be returned as soon as this situation is stabilized.”
“You mean once you gain control.” Janeway was disgusted. “Would you really subvert the laws of society for your own gain?”
“Not for my gain. I do this for the people of Min-Tutopa.”
“I’ve heard that one before,” Janeway bit off. “Was it also for the good of the people that you ordered those pirates on the Kapon to steal our computer?”
“Andross has been purchasing computer processors for some time, hoping to find one that would be compatible. Finally, yours was brought to us.”
Torres moved forward. “No—you stole it from us, plain and simple.”
Janeway reached out, but wasn’t able to stop Torres. It was just like her to attack the first person who tried to talk to them, but Janeway didn’t order her to stop. She actually wanted to see what effect a physical threat would have on these people.
Fee glanced nervously between them as Torres approached her. “I think you should hear me out,” she warned.
“I think you might be wrong about that.” Torres lunged at Fee.
“You’re undefended—” She stumbled forward when she met with no resistance, her arms flaying at thin air. She hardly disturbed the remarkable image of Fee as she sprawled through it onto the floor.
“I’m trapped in the Seat complex,” Fee told them. “Along with the other Board Members. I wanted to appeal to you in person, but that wasn’t possible.”
“I wondered how you managed to sneak up on us,” Torres muttered, rolling away and getting to her feet. She let one arm swing wide, swiping through the image. “Nothing’s real in this place.”
Fee sighed. “Your presence here is very real. However, there is a way for you to take your processor and return to your ship. If you help us.”
Janeway braced herself. None of these Tutopans ever did anything unless they got something in exchange. “What is it you want?”
“Your processor is not integrating properly with the other province networks. As of right now, my people only have control of Seanss and the Seat. With your help, we can utilize your computer to its fullest capabilities and put an end to this situation.”
“We can’t help you,” Janeway told her.
Fee didn’t seem to understand. “Andross has informed me that you provided the interface between our systems. If you don’t have the necessary tools, a courier can be sent to your ship. I assure you, we would make your efforts worthwhile.”
“You can’t pay us to overthrow your government.” Janeway didn’t even try to explain. “It goes against every principle by which we operate.”
“What sort of system is that?” Fee asked startled. “Don’t you believe in fair exchange?”
“Certainly, but you’re asking us to help you violate the laws of your society. We are oathbound to not interfere with the natural development of alien species.”
Fee sat very still for a moment, considering this. “Don’t you believe that progress is made through cooperation?”
“What you consider progress may actually be detrimental to your people.”
Fee seized on that. “You aren’t convinced my position as Supreme Arbitrator would be of benefit to our House. Let me explain—” “My answer would still be the same,” Janeway interrupted.
“I know you can understand my point of view.” Fee gazed at them thoughtfully. “When your communicators were examined—” “You took our comm badges?” Torres interrupted.
Janeway touched her comm badge, wondering why she hadn’t noticed it had been moved. “You know they’re useless at this range.”
“Andross had them examined after your unexpected resistance during the takeover. We had to make certain they didn’t contain weapons of some sort.” She smiled wanly. “I must say, Captain, your species hides its aggressive tendencies very well. Andross had no inkling you could react with such physical brutality.”
Janeway returned the smile. “I’m glad I knocked some of the wind out of that young man. I’m sure it wasn’t the grand moment of victory he had always envisioned.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Fee agreed. “A point, you can be sure, he appreciates.” She shifted. “However, I was pleased he went to the trouble when I read the report. Your devices are equipped with homing beacons capable of pinpointing the location of each individual.”
“That’s correct.” Janeway didn’t add that the beacon was a key component in locking coordinates for transport.
“Such a concern for the individual is unheard of among Tutopans,” Fee said with wonder. “Our lives are geared toward the grand view of society, toward the development of our culture, with individual desires subsumed into communal efforts.”
“Theoretically, that is one ideal,” Janeway told her. “As you said, progress is made through cooperation.”
“I understand the ideal, but the fact is strangling my people.”
Fee gestured to the window behind the two women. “Look out there.
Tell me what you see.”
Janeway didn’t turn. “I’ve already seen it.”
“It’s a huge city,” Torres said impatiently. “What’s your point?”
“It’s an even bigger world. And I’m no fool,” Fee said frankly.
“I realize I’m challenging a system that has a certain inertial weight, sustaining itself, even creating itself. But there are times when our direction needs to be shifted in a fundamental direction, times when a few individuals can take significant action to make sure that shift is positive, toward progress and growth, not fragmentation.”
Torres jerked her head. “Fancy words for saying you know what’s best for everyone else.”