Mosaic (23 page)

hands on her cheeks. "It's getting hotter," she said. And

then they both noticed that the hue of the wall was

changing, too. It had lost all hints of blue and was now a

purple with decidedly red undertones.

"Mr. Paris, have you ever achieved orbit directly from

warp?" "No, ma'am, I can't say that I have."

"Well, this is your chance."

Tom Paris turned and glanced at the captain, though he

knew she was serious. "Ma'am?"

"I want to get our people back. But in all likelihood, the

Kazon are still monitoring the planet. I want to stay at

warp speed until we're behind the limb, then go directly

into orbit."

Janeway watched as Tom pondered this dangerous feat. She

could almost hear his mind working, making the necessary

calculations. A moment passed, and then he glanced up at

her.

"Captain, begging your pardon, but have you ever

accomplished this?" "No, Lieutenant, but I've heard of its

being done. Therefore it's a possibility."

"Yes, ma'am. What warp factor did you want to use?" "The

highest we can and still pull this off."

Tom turned again to his console, and ran his fingers over

the touch-sensitive surface. Janeway knew he was entering

parameters for one of the most difficult calculations he'd

ever attempted to perform. The navigational computer,

assisted by the multivariate computational skills of

Voyager's neural gel packs, would consider rates of

acceleration and deceleration, the gravitational fields of

the planet and its sun, the effect of the drag from the

farthest reaches of the planet's upper atmosphere, and the

performance efficiencies of the ship's warp nacelles. Tom

was reviewing these numbers as they flashed across his

screen. But even the extraordinary power of Voyager's

computer system couldn't make the final choice among

several viable trajectories; no computer could possibly

take into account every subtle variable and contingency in

such a complex calculation. Only the intuition of a gifted

and experienced pilot could be trusted to make the final

choice of heading and speed. And Janeway was banking on

Tom's ability to do just that: to make a choice based on

what felt right.

Finally, she saw him take a deep, quiet breath. "I think I

can pull it off at warp four point two, Captain," he said,

his voice betraying no hint of anxiety over the importance

of this decision. "Then do it."

"Aye, warp four point two. Engaging. . ."

There was a slight hesitation as he took a careful breath;

she sensed him stilling his mind, concentrating on the

task. "Now."

Voyager leapt to warp. At this speed, the planet was only

a few minutes away from the shell of gas and dust clouds

surrounding the distant reaches of the star system.

Getting there would be easy; the hard part would be

bringing the ship into orbit a microsecond before Voyager

slammed into the planet at over a hundred times the speed

of light.

"Full power to inertial dampers," ordered Janeway crisply.

She wanted to project an air of confidence about this

maneuver. "Twelve seconds to orbit," said Tom, his voice as

calm as hers. His fingers tapped the console, programming a

few last corrections before entering the automatic

deceleration sequence. On the main viewscreen, the image of

the planet grew at an alarming rate.

Janeway made herself focus on it, trying to shut out doubt

as to the outcome of this maneuver. If it didn't work, she

thought, at least the end would be instantaneous. Tom's

voice didn't waver as he began to call out. "Dropping out

of warp in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one

. . ."

The ship lurched violently, throwing everyone forward.

Even at maximum power the inertial damping field couldn't

completely compensate for the enormous change in

acceleration. The ship listed slightly, and for one brief

instant Janeway thought they had lost control and would hit

the planet's atmosphere and incinerate from the friction.

But then Voyager eased into a gentle free fall a thousand

kilometers above the surface. She looked down at Tom Paris,

who was a little pale but smiling. He had every right to be

pleased with himself. "Good work, Mr.

Paris," she said mildly.

He turned in his seat and looked up at her. His saucy

confidence had returned in full. "Nothing to it," he

grinned. "See if you can find our people,"

Janeway began, but Chakotay was ahead of her, already

manning his station, directing the sensors to scan for life

signs of their crew.

"Captain, a Kazon ship has come into orbit on the opposite

side of the planet."

"Then they'll find us in minutes. Any luck, Commander?"

"Negative. I see Kazon signs-about forty of thembut none of

ours."

Janeway considered. That could mean Tuvok had found refuge

in a place that was shielded from sensors.

It could also mean that the entire away team was dead.

But if that were true, why would Kazon forces stay on the

surface? Why would the ship be monitoring the planet? She

had to assume her people were alive, shielded, waiting for

rescue.

"The Kazon ship is moving this way," intoned Paris. They

still couldn't risk a shoot-out with the Kazon; weapons

arrays were dubious at best.

They had no choice but to retreat again.

"Take us out of here the same way you got us here,

Lieutenant. At warp." "Aye, Captain."

Before this day is over I'm going to have this maneuver

down pat, thought Paris, as he rocketed Voyager from orbit.

Chakotay turned to her. "If Tuvok

were here, he'd remind you that retreat is always an

option. And that the soundest strategy protects the many at

the expense of the few."

"But he's not here. And I'm not quitting until every

option has been explored. Put on your thinking cap,

Commander. We're going to figure out how to rescue our

people."

Chakotay smiled, and Janeway returned it, reminded once

more of how very glad she was to have him at her side.

'16

ENSIGN KATHRYN JANEWAY WATCHED AS

EARTH RECEDED, and remembered that first flight years ago,

when she and her father had taken the shuttle to Mars. She

could still recall the visceral thrill she felt as the blue

and white marble grew smaller and smaller and finally

became just a dot of light in the blackness of space. It

was her first lesson, repeated here today, in the va/s of

space, of Earth's relative unimportance in the heavens, and

of man's place in the universe as just one species among

many.

Her father had told her, when she was small, that a

thousand years ago people believed that Earth was the

center of the universe, that all other heavenly bodies

revolved around it. When Copernicus suggested otherwise,

and Galileo proved it, they weren't lauded for their

discoveries; they were castigated. People then had raged at

the truth rather than embrace it.

Kathryn had always found it comforting to feel part of a

vast family. First was the family of humankind, a planet of

beings who were at one with each other, who had long ago

stopped battling over imaginary lines in the ground, and

who lived in peace and harmony. But to consider oneself

part of an even greater groupof the family of the galaxies

and all their myriad specieswas to feel a fortunate child,

with billions of aunts, uncles, and cousins, to be alone

nowhere in the universe. To Kathryn that was one of the

wondrous privileges of life in a spacefaring age.

Now, sitting on the bridge of the starship Icarus, with

Admiral Paris in command, setting off on an expedition into

deep space in order to study massive compact halo objects,

she thought she could know no greater happiness. She was

actually the junior science officer on this mission, tapped

by the admiral for his recently sanctioned Arias expedition

just one year after she'd completed a doctoral degree in

quantum cosmology. It was heady stuff for one so young to

be chosen for such an important mission. She sensed a

presence near her station and realized Admiral Paris had

moved closer to her, still staring at the viewscreen, where

Earth was now a small dot, blue turning to white.

"That's the last you'll see of home for at least a year,

Ensign," he said. "I hope you won't be getting homesick on

me."

She looked up at him, unsure whether he was kidding or

not. She had learned that he had a wonderful, wry sense of

humor, and enjoyed tweaking those he liked. But his style

was so dry it often blurred the line between joke and

truth.

"I'm not the homesick type, sir," she replied, preferring

to play it safe by taking him seriously. But she wasn't

surprised when his eyes twinkled and he grinned at her.

"Actually, Ensign, you're the last person I'd suspect of

that particular malady."

He didn't explain himself further, and Kathryn found 177

herself wondering if the admiral thought a lack of

susceptibility to homesickness was a good thing or a bad

one. And then she wondered why it mattered so much what he

thought.

"I'd like to meet with the science team at eleven hundred

hours," continued the admiral. "I don't think you've met

everyone yet."

"No, sir. I'm looking forward to it."

Actually, she was fitfully anxious about that encounter.

She was bound to be the youngest and least experienced of

the group, a fact of which she was sure they were all

aware. Would they accept her? Would they respect her? Did

they resent the admiral bringing a raw ensign on such a

far-ranging and scientifically significant expedition?

She would have to prove herself to them.

But as it happened, there was only one person with whom

that would prove to be necessary. When they convened in the

wardroom later that morning, Kathryn sensed nothing but

friendship and receptivity from most of the people in the

room as Admiral Paris introduced them. "May I present

Commander T'Por, whose expertise in astrophysics is

legendary." Kathryn looked into the solemn eyes of an

elegant Vulcan woman of whom she'd already heard a great

deal. "Lieutenant Darren Ditillo, a seasoned space traveler

with proficiency in astrometric analysis." A small, wiry

man in his late thirties with thinning hair and a ready

smile shook her hand enthusiastically. "Ensign Sally

Rhodes, only a few years out of the Academy but already

well respected in the field of condensed matter physics."

The young woman was only a few years older than she, and

Kathryn was comforted to know there was a friendly peer

among the group. They all seemed welcoming, and Kathryn

began to relax. But there was one other person in the

group.

"And this is Lieutenant Justin Tighe, our engineering 178

liaison." Kathryn shook the hand of a lean, muscular man

of about thirty with dark, tousled hair, whose grip was

confident and whose eyes-deep, blue eyes-were challenging.

"Welcome aboard, Ensign," he said with a smile that was at

once knowing and confrontational.

Kathryn felt an unease that began at her fingertips and

radiated up her arms and into her cheeks, which she

realized were flushing. "Thank you, sir," she murmured,

withdrew her hand and took her seat at the polished black

table in the wardroom. She sat with her back to the wide

window, outside which the ethereal streaks of warp stars

illuminated the darkness of space. It was a sight that

still mesmerized her, and she didn't want to be distracted

during this meeting.

It meant, however, that she sat right next to Justin

Tighe. "I'm gratified to be leading this expedition,"

Admiral Paris began. "You all know that I've been intrigued

by massive compact halo objects for a great many years. We

are, of course, heading for the galactic rim, six hundred

light-years beyond Deep Space Station Seven, where there's

a suspected "birthplace' of these enigmatic phenomena. I'd

like to convene daily seminars for all of us to trade

information and ideas so

we'll be snapped in by the time we get there."

There was nothing remarkable in what Admiral Paris was

saying, and Kathryn found herself uncomfortably aware of

Lieutenant Tighe next to her. She kept her face turned away

from him, toward the admiral at the head of the table, but

his presence was palpable. She forced herself to shut him

out, to focus entirely on the admiral, who was up on his

feet now, pacing the room, pausing to stand by the window

and stare out at the star streaks as he talked.

"There is, however, another aspect to this expedition. One

which it was necessary to conceal from you until we had

left Earth because of its topsecret nature."

He had everyone's rapt attention now. His voice was grave

as he continued. "Ours is certainly a scientific endeavor,