Cybersong (16 page)

But everything in the environment is constantly bombarded with tachyons. Most living creatures have evolved a degree of protection.

And the particles are so small as to be undetectable from a life-sign point of view.”

“Well, something is ruining our food supply,” Janeway said.

“Could you look into it? Kes can have Neelix bring up samples of the ruined vegetables.”

“That isn’t precisely my specialty,” The Doctor protested.

Janeway just looked at him. “This is the closest thing we have to a bio lab on board, and you are the closest we have to a biologist,” the captain reminded him. “Besides, you’ll be losing at least one patient very soon, since I’m leaving as soon as you certify me fit, which had better be in the next half hour.”

“Captain, I can’t guarantee that.”

“Doctor, you had better. Or I’ll walk out of sickbay without your authorization.”

The Doctor looked at her and blinked. “Yes, I see your point.

Kes, bring over that medical tricorder. No, the one on my desk that’s already set for the captain’s scan.”

The Doctor and Kes were so involved they didn’t see Janeway’s small smile.

The captain was on the bridge and talking to Tuvok. She knew enough about the situation to know it was critical. Which was to say, she knew more than anyone else.

“Why do you think Mandel can’t be trusted?” she asked again.

The Vulcan looked at her quizzically. “She refused any offer of help, would not permit anyone else to work with her or go over her analysis, was secretive and would not divulge her methodology. Certainly that is enough, given current conditions, to warrant inspection.”

Janeway hesitated. Her head was splitting, and the conflict was just beginning. “Tuvok, you know that I have the greatest respect for your abilities,” she began carefully, framing her ideas as she spoke.

“We’ve worked together a long time, and you know more than anyone about ship’s security.” Then she sighed deeply. “But unless Harry is fit for duty in the next few hours, we’re going to need Ensign Mandel, no matter how suspicious her behavior. Because, very simply, no one else can do the job. And if we don’t get out of here soon, we are going to starve. It’s that simple. Something is spoiling our fresh food supply. I’ve gotten a very disturbing report from Neelix about the high rate of spoilage. If this keeps up, we’re not going to be able to make the next supply stop.”

Vulcans insist they have no emotions, and they never show them.

Still, what could be seen on Tuvok’s face might be classified at least as concern. But then, concern is not an emotion. It was also the only logical reaction to the news that they were facing not only possible sabotage and computer failure but starvation as well.

“Captain, do you have any information on the cause of the destroyed foodstuffs?” Tuvok asked.

Janeway shook her head. “The Doctor is looking into it. I suspect that this tachyon bombardment might be part of the problem, but I’m not a biologist.”

“And neither is Ensign Mandel,” Tuvok said thoughtfully. He paused for a moment, his eyes not focused on the ready room but somewhere beyond in his own calculations. “Captain, it is highly unlikely that the food shortage and the computer problems are unrelated. Given this new data, I would suggest that Ensign Mandel is not responsible. Not unless she has a lot more training and background than we suspect. Which, if she is a Cardassian agent, she would have.”

“Which is the problem,” Janeway acknowledged heavily. “But we have to assess the alternative risks. If we don’t let Mandel work on the program, we’re out of food and we can’t move. If we let her work on the problem and she’s not an agent, we have some possibility of getting out of here.”

“And if we let her work on the problem and she is a Cardassian agent …”

“We’re no worse off than we are if we don’t give her access,” the captain said firmly. “And if she is a Cardassian agent, there is still no reason to think that she has orders to destroy Voyager and herself with it. As I recall, the Obsidian Order doesn’t like to lose operatives after they’ve invested so much in training and surgery.

“No, Mr. Tuvok, we have a lot more to worry about than a Cardassian spy. Or any kind of spy. Though if she is one, we will have to deal with that later. After we get out of here.”

“Very well, Captain. I shall release her.”

Janeway nodded. “And let her know about the other problems, the food shortage and the fact that we’re not close to the next supply stop, which she should be aware of anyway. Stellar Cartography is one area where they actually are aware of these things, but she won’t know that we’re critical on supplies. Tell her.”

If a Vulcan could look perturbed, Mr. Tuvok did. “I must point out to you that I am skeptical of this course of action,” the Vulcan said. “I would be remiss in my duty were I not to inform you of that.”

“Yes, I understand that, Mr. Tuvok.” Then Janeway sighed. “The problem is somewhere in the command system. It’s not the hardware. If it were, then Torres could fix it. If it were anything else, we would have located it by now. The real problem is that we are so dependent on our computer and on its initial operating system that we aren’t even aware of how many of its problems can carry over into everything else.

The dependency is more dangerous than any agent.”

“It does make us vulnerable,” Tuvok agreed.

“If we could only compartmentalize it the way we do life-support,” the captain said. And then she thought for a moment. “Once we get past this, I might ask Ensign Mandel to work on a design to do that. With Mr. Kim. It might keep the two of them occupied in their free time.”

Tuvok appeared nonplussed. “I will fetch Ensign Mandel and explain our supply situation.”

Janeway thanked him and let him go. She knew it was his job to be concerned about the security of the ship. She was certainly concerned about security as well. But what would be a reasonable course of action in the Alpha Quadrant where they could get to a Star Base, where ships of the Federation were all around, and where their technology was readily available simply wasn’t an option out here.

No, Tuvok understood that, Janeway told herself. He understood it as well as she did, as well as they all did. Only that didn’t mean that they had to like it. And she had said that she was running a Federation ship. She meant it, too, right down to the last line. But sometimes there weren’t alternatives out here.

Sometimes all she could do was choose the lesser of two evils.

Her head began throbbing violently again. This wasn’t the injury.

This was command. This was having to take them home when the odds were so heavily stacked against them.

It was like being trapped in a desert, in a sinkhole. In quicksand.

Quicksand. Something that appeared solid but was a trap underneath.

That sat passive until something came along.

They had fallen into such a trap. Captain Janeway knew it. This was nothing to do with Cardassians or spies or anything they had left behind in the Alpha Quadrant. This was something that was directly related to the dead alien ships in the center of the tachyon field.

Why were all these ships dead, and some of them still transmitting?

Why was there a tachyon field? And why had she and many of Voyager’s crew felt so lonely?

Suddenly, the questions reversed and the logic fell into place.

What if the dead ships were lonely, looking for company? That would make sense. Then they would send out some kind of communication, drawing in like-minded beings.

So far so good. Only, how could dead ships be lonely? There were no life-signs there. Nothing at all had been alive. She had been there and she knew.

Her head throbbed and threatened to explode. She could see the answer.

She knew she knew, if only she could quiet the pain. If only …

No, she suddenly realized that she was losing focus again. She wanted to be angry with the state of medicine. They should be able to give her something so that she could just do her job without fear that her mind would wander. Though injury to the brain was hardly a minor problem.

Still, she wished the Doctor had something in his bag of tricks to get rid of the headache and keep her from distractions. And while she was certain that she had chosen the best course of action in the matter of Daphne Mandel and the operating system, she still was uneasy. She had worked with Tuvok for many years and trusted him implicitly. He had instincts, though he would disapprove of that description of his ability, and when he distrusted someone she knew it was for good reason.

If only Harry Kim were back on duty. No, she realized, she should be glad that he was still alive.

But thinking about Kim brought her back to what she had discovered when they had investigated the alien craft.

She remembered the computer log they had downloaded. That shouldn’t take a wild talent to analyze. And there should be plenty hidden in that document, no matter how little they had gotten out of the log before they were injured.

The captain touched her commbadge. “Engineering, have you recovered the tricorder that Mr. Kim had on the away mission?”

“No, Captain. What tricorder?” B’Elanna Torres was trying very hard not to sound harassed, Janeway could tell. Torres couldn’t disguise an emotion if her life depended on it.

“I’ll have someone bring it down,” Janeway said. “We downloaded the logs of the alien ship, and I think something in that might tell us what’s wrong. It looks like they suffered the same problems we’re having.”

“I’ll get on it as soon as I have it,” Torres promised. “And I’ll go up and get it. Have to look in on Harry, anyway. Try to remind him he’s got work to do, he can’t lie in bed sleeping while the rest of us are on emergency rating. Maybe I’ll bring him some cookies.”

Janeway chuckled. She’d been eating the cookies herself, and they were definitely the best thing Neelix had made in a very long time. Then she called sickbay and made certain they could locate the tricorder.

As she had suspected, it had been sitting in a pile with the rest of Kim’s clothing and equipment, completely forgotten. Even though the situation was critical, she felt a surge of assurance. Now she had the key, she had remembered the critical detail.

Now she could return to the bridge and face her crew.

***

“You know, Harry, you’re one lazy, green slugabed,” B’Elanna Torres said. “Here we are stuck with the computer down, bugs in the operating system, a drive that won’t listen to us, and you’re lazing around in bed.”

“Uuuugghh,” Harry Kim replied.

Kes smiled brightly. “That’s the most communicative he’s been,” she whispered to the chief engineer.

“Well, that’s not good enough,” Torres replied, not looking away from Kim’s bandaged face. “I need help, Harry Kim. You’re the best programmer on this ship, and we’re going to have to run this alien analysis without you until you make up your mind to get out of bed and do your job.”

“Nnnn mmmm jb,” Kim tried to say. His eyes were on her, alert and aware.

“What do you mean it’s not your job?” Torres was honestly angry now.

“Maybe it isn’t on your duty roster, but believe me, the captain will reassign you if necessary to make this work. You’re the only one who can do it, besides that Daphne Mandel person.

And she’s too out in the theory ozone to do anything practical.

Meaningful.”

“Srrreee.” Kim tried to apologize.

B’Elanna Torres snorted. “If you were Klingon, you’d get up right now,” she berated him. “Since you’re not, we’re going to have to try to do this without you, which, believe me, isn’t going to be easy. You owe me for this one, Kim.”

“Dsssrrrr,” Harry mumbled.

“You’re in luck,” Torres came back quickly, understanding only too well. “Neelix finally made something decent. You’d think these cookies came out of that little bakery near Starfleet Headquarters.”

Kim blinked, tried to smile, but couldn’t move that much. He made a sound that Torres took for assent.

“Lieutenant Torres, much as we appreciate your assistance in bringing Mr. Kim to consciousness, you are now tiring the patient. You must leave now. You can come back tomorrow.” The Doctor ordered B’Elanna out with no sympathy whatever.

Which the engineer appreciated. She liked the fact that The Doctor was so protective of Harry. She was still angry at her friend for letting himself get this badly hurt, and she was terribly worried for him. Not that she’d admit it, of course.

She liked Harry Kim. Of course, there was no one on Voyager who didn’t like him. But she also respected his abilities and had come to depend on his assistance even though, technically, working in Engineering wasn’t part of his job.

He had volunteered to help out so many times that she had come to view him with a somewhat proprietary attitude. After all, she really needed him. And he liked working in Engineering. He did special projects in his free time, as if it were his hobby.

Secretly, B’Elanna had hopes of turning him into a real engineer.

He had the feel for it, more than It. Carey. Who, she finally had to admit, was a good colleague and an excellent manager. And an adequate if somewhat pedestrian engineer.

But Harry, Harry had the imagination and the intuition. He could feel the way things should work. And he had the math to back it up.

But no matter how much she needed him right now, The Doctor wasn’t going to let him go early on her account.

“He is much better,” Kes said softly at her shoulder.

B’Elanna turned sharply. She hadn’t been aware of Kes’s presence as the young medical assistant accompanied her into the corridor.

“What?” Torres asked briskly.

Kes handed over the tricorder. “I think you forgot this,” she said, and smiled. “Really, it’s good that you came up. I think that you brought Harry back a little closer to us. And if he knows that there are good problems to work on when he’s ready, he’ll want to be ready.

And he won’t be as bored. Being a patient can be very boring.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Torres demanded. She found Kes’s soft manner confusing.