“Excellent.” Maybe they were finally getting somewhere. Her gaze swept over the other four, making it clear she was including the doctor. “Do what you can, while I take this in the office.”
Tuvok didn’t need to be told to accompany her. She wanted a second opinion on everything that little Tutopan had to say.
The communications unit folded out neatly to sit on the desk. “A viewscreen,” Janeway noted. “Who would have thought Tutopans would include that?”
The youthful face of Agent Andross filled the small screen as soon as Janeway opened the channel. “Captain Janeway, how nice to see you again.” He certainly sounded sincere. She wondered why she felt so cynical. “I hope you’re doing well?”
“We’re holding our own.” She leaned forward. “Have you located our computer?”
“The processor salvaged by the Kapon was transported to Min-Tutopa, to be installed as a backup processor in one of the local communications centers.”
“What?!”
Andross hurried on, as if to prevent her from interrupting.
“Although I have been unable to contact my superiors, I took the liberty of shuffling some data and arranged for you to receive a new processor for a nominal installation fee.” He beamed at her.
“There, now, didn’t I tell you I would take care of everything?”
“That is not acceptable.” Janeway moved her hand to the communications unit, prepared to close the channel if Andross didn’t cooperate.
“Unless you agree to return our processor, then I must continue my negotiations elsewhere.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Andross summoned up a smile. “I was merely trying to provide you with the best possible deal. If you want your old hardware returned, I’m sure it can be arranged.”
“Who can arrange it?”
Andross glanced down at the desktop monitor. “The processor is currently in Seanss Province, under the jurisdiction of Administer Fee.”
“I’d like to speak to Administer Fee at once.”
Andross keyed up something. “The next open appointment is in sixty cycles.”
“Whatever a cycle is, it’s fifty-nine too many.” Janeway controlled her voice with effort. “My ship has been severely disabled by the Kapon’s actions and I hold you and your House responsible. I want something done right now.”
Andross stared at her. “Please, there is no need for this.”
“You’re out of time,” she told him.
Reluctantly, he met her level gaze with something like respect.
“The quickest way to speak to Administer Fee would be for you to go to Min-Tutopa.”
She frowned. “Surely a subspace communications link would be faster.”
He dipped his head, as if admitting a flaw. “Our administration is undergoing some turmoil right now, what with the Supreme Arbitrator yet to be selected. Business has practically ground to a halt,” he added, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Administer Fee is usually the most generous of officials with her time, yet I’m afraid your request wouldn’t be taken seriously unless you went in person.”
“I could take one of our shuttlecrafts,” Janeway started to say.
“That would be possible; however, it would take several cycles to obtain clearance from the Cartel. If you prefer, I could take you in my private transport. I have prior contacts with Administer Fee, and I should be able to obtain an audience for you upon our arrival.”
Janeway could feel Tuvok radiating disapproval at the suggestion.
“Is that the only option?” she asked evenly.
“Aside from House-owned transports, there are commercial liners.”
He concentrated on his desktop again. “The next scheduled departure is tomorrow, making stops at two other provinces before Seanss. My transport could be ready almost immediately.”
“Then I accept your offer.” She didn’t want to imagine what Tuvok was going to say. “I would like to bring along some of my technicians.”
“If you wish; however, if there are more than two of you, I would be forced to petition the House for permits. Commercial liners carry exo-insurance for their passengers, while the House is responsible for any individual who travels on its transports—” “I understand,” Janeway interrupted, unable to endure another lengthy excuse.
“Then everything’s settled.” Andross looked truly relaxed, not a good sign as far as Janeway was concerned. “I’ll alert my transport crew, and we’ll scoot over and pick you up. That way you won’t have to venture out again. I know how intimidating the Hub can be to new visitors.”
Torres glanced through the glass wall separating them from the captain. Janeway was apparently deep in an argument of some sort, while as usual, Tuvok’s expression revealed nothing.
Torres crossed her arms, trying to imitate the Vulcan’s composure, as the holographic doctor took his time examining the ODN/computer schematics and the sensor logs of their attempted repairs since the removal of the processor. He kept making thoughtful sounds like “hmmm…” and “ah-ha….”
“This is useless!” Torres exclaimed, when she finally couldn’t endure it any longer. “There’s nothing he can do.”
Zimmerman looked up at Torres. “Perhaps not. It looks as if you’ve almost destroyed this system.”
“It wasn’t our fault the processor was stolen,” Torres retorted.
“Did you intend to finish the job when you cut the main ODN junction to the core?”
Stung, Torres protested, “It should have worked.”
The doctor pointed to one of the experimental summations.
“According to Utopia Planitia guidelines, it is not recommended to sever the ODN from the main control unit.”
“That’s what I said,” Kim murmured.
Torres glared at both of them, feeling guilty in spite of herself.
“Starfleet’s fanatical about safeties—that doesn’t mean they’re right.”
“If you chose to ignore the guidelines…” Zimmerman trailed off with an ominous shrug, as if the consequences were on her head.
“I’ve had enough of this!” Torres had truly made an effort to control herself, but these holographic interfaces were all alike.
They were obviously programmed by supercilious stuffed shirts who thought they knew everything. The last one she’d tried to argue with was the tutorial program at the Academy, and when she punched the image, it calmly informed her that a demerit was logged in her file.
So she kicked in the interface projector, shorting out the entire library system and ruining a good pair of boots.
“I thought you wanted my opinion,” the doctor said.
She turned away. “I don’t need some machine telling me how to do my job.”
“Apparently you don’t listen to anyone,” he retorted. “More’s the pity for those of us who have to suffer for your mistakes.”
Torres almost shook with fury. “Computer, end—” “Wait!” Kes interrupted, before she could finish “He might lose all the information he’s recorded.”
“It can’t hurt to get his opinion,” Kim agreed. “What do you think, Doctor?”
Zimmerman apparently took that as enough encouragement. “From what I can see, the spasms and subsequent paralysis of the ship’s systems—including my own,” he added dourly for Torres’s benefit—”are a reaction similar to spinal shock, resulting from the transection of the brain from the spinal cord. The abnormal impulse transmissions may be a result of this severance shock and will wear off with time.”
“We were getting false signals before we disconnected the core,” Kim said hesitantly.
“And in case you forgot,” Torres couldn’t resist adding, “this is a starship, not a living organism.”
“Actually, it’s remarkable how similar the computer system is to an organic nervous system.”
Janeway emerged from the private office in time to hear the doctor’s last comment. “Any progress?” she asked the collective group.
“It’s no use.” Torres appealed directly to Janeway, knowing that at least the captain would be sensible. “He’s acting as if the computer network is a patient.”
“And if you’re asking my opinion,” the doctor calmly told the captain, “I’d say your ship has been lobotomized.”
Everyone began to talk at once, as Janeway tried to make sense of what was going on. Torres was practically shouting, and Janeway thought it was remarkable that Kes won out, making her defense of the doctor: “The analogy is correct if you consider that the processor acts like the cerebral cortex—formulating sensory stimuli into understandable images and determining the appropriate response.”
Torres snorted, pacing back and forth on the other side of the room.
“Do you have a recommendation?” Janeway looked at both Kes and the doctor.
The medical program instantly resumed a professional demeanor.
“I agree with Ensign Kim’s hypothesis that the erratic impulses are originating in the damaged bioneural tissue.”
“But I’m not even sure the tissue was damaged,” Kim said.
“The evidence is right here, in the falling pressure within the subspace field of the main core.”
“What does that prove?” Torres demanded irritably.
“Typically, a loss of pressure indicates degeneration of damaged nerve cells.” He pointed to the next column of the readings.
“As you can see here, the pressure is now starting to rise as the tissue begins to regenerate. We’ll have to guard against increasing pressure in the gel packs.”
“Why?” Kim asked, obviously intrigued.
Kes answered, “Because increased pressure in neural tissue will collapse the nutrient vessels, causing all functions of the cells to cease.”
“Can you control the rising pressure?” Janeway asked.
“Nonsurgically?” the doctor asked. “The shunts can be adjusted, perhaps, to maintain a consistent pressure. And we may be able to use a chemical agent similar to corticosteroids to reduce swelling.”
“We should also provide protein to aid in tissue regeneration,” Kes added.
It sounded to Janeway as if they had a bigger problem than they originally thought. “Will we be able to reconnect the processor to the main gel packs once we get it back?”
“That is uncertain,” the doctor said. “While neural fibers are capable of regeneration, function is usually only restored in the peripheral nerves, not those in the central nervous system or brain.”
An unpleasant silence followed his words. Even Torres seemed taken aback by the grim diagnosis. Janeway actually preferred that to open hostility.
“But we’ll see what we can do,” Zimmerman added in that falsely cheerful tone that doctors assume when they’re trying to keep up their patient’s spirits. “First, every bank of neural gel packs must be tested for ion content. And I’ll also need samples of the nutrient fluid.”
“You want us to test the tissue?” Torres repeated. “With what, a medical tricorder?”
Zimmerman looked down his nose at her, not easy considering he was seated. “Obviously we’ll need qualified personnel to perform the tests.”
“I can do it,” Kes quickly offered.
Janeway looked from Kim’s expectant face to Torres, standing as far away from the doctor as she could. “Ensign Kim, you work with the medical team to get the computer systems functioning—with or without the processor. Torres, you’ll come with me.”
Torres turned. “Where are we going?”
“To Min-Tutopa.” Janeway could feel Tuvok stiffen behind her.
“To get our processor back.”
Tuvok paused outside the door to Captain Janeway’s quarters.
Usually when he had something to discuss with the captain, he requested an audience while she was in her ready room. However, these were unusual circumstances, and Janeway was not likely to go to the bridge again before she left for Min-Tutopa. If he admitted it to himself, he was hesitant to disturb her in her private sanctum, but he would be derelict in his duty not to warn her about the risks involved in going to an unknown location without a member of Security for protection.
That thought prompted him to signal for entry.
“Come in” was immediately called out.
Tuvok entered, standing stiffly at attention within several meters of the door. “Captain, forgive me for disturbing you—” “I’m glad you’re here, Tuvok.” Janeway was packing a small case.
“You can help me carry that stasis generator. Kim suggested we should transport the processor under stasis to keep it from being damaged.”
“Indeed, that seems prudent.” Tuvok carefully picked up the rectangular case.
“Has Andross’s ship arrived?”
“Not as yet. However, Mr. Kim requested that I inform you the turbolifts are in working order.”
Her delight was a welcome sight after so much stress. “How did he manage that?”
“The ensign ascertained that systems which do not incorporate neural banks in their dedicated subprocessors could be safely isolated from the ODN.” Tuvok resumed his stance at attention, the stasis generator easily slung over his shoulder. “The turbolifts and the shuttlebay have been successfully isolated.”
“At least something’s working right,” Janeway sighed in relief.
“I was dreading carrying all of this down five flights.”
“Kim is currently attempting to isolate Transporter Room Two.
However, the biofilter will be inoperational, and targeting scanners may not be capable of creating a transporter lock.”
“Then don’t use the transporters unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He averted his eyes as she folded her silky nightgown, cramming it into a corner of the case. “You didn’t come here just to tell me that, did you?”
“No, Captain.” His chin lifted. “I must protest your going to Min-Tutopa without adequate security protection.”
“Don’t worry, Tuvok. I’ll have B’Elanna Torres along, and you know nothing could possibly get near me without having to deal with her first.”
“That is one reason for my concern.” He phrased it carefully.
“Lieutenant Torres is an excellent engineer; however, I do not consider her to be a reliable officer.”
“I need a computer technician, and it was either her or Kim.
Besides, you saw the way Torres was treating the doctor, they’d kill each other before they solved anything.” Janeway snapped the locks on her personal case. “No, Torres has to go with me.
I can keep her in line.”
“I would prefer to accompany Lieutenant Torres myself,” Tuvok informed her. “The away team will be isolated, and dependent on outside communications.”