Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide

by Kirsten Beyer

  “So they are free to damage as much of space as they can access while we hide behind our self-imposed limitations?” Dasht asked.

  “Yes.” Farkas smiled. “That’s the tricky thing about freedom. And we’re not hiding. We’re offering them an opportunity to develop beyond their current foolishness. Should they fail to see the futility of their present course, I have no doubt time will force them to see it. The Malon men and women who risk their lives daily to enable this short-sighted ridiculousness are their best hope for change. Their actions might be lucrative, but only because of the hazards imposed on people like Thoreck and his crew. History has taught us that no society built upon the exploitation of any of its individuals can long endure. We just have to hope they come to understand that sooner rather than later.”

  “Well said, Captain,” Chan replied.

  “And on that happy note,” Dasht interjected bitterly, “I’m going to sign off.”

  “Somewhere you have to be, Captain?” Farkas asked congenially.

  “My astrometrics department has reported an unusual discovery, and we’re about to alter course to investigate. It won’t delay our rendezvous with the rest of you in a few days,” he replied.

  Farkas’s and Chan’s eyes widened simultaneously. Itak might have been as intrigued, but as he was the most-Vulcan Vulcan Farkas had ever met, it was impossible to tell.

  “How unusual?” Chan asked casually.

  With a faint, roguish smile, Dasht replied, “Well, that’s hard to say until we get a little closer.”

  Farkas met Dasht’s smile with one of her own and said, “You know, Parimon, we’ve seen all there is to see in our assigned sectors. If you pass along those coordinates, we could combine our efforts.”

  Dasht’s smile widened. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  Farkas was now equally sure it wasn’t.

  Chan broke in, “I’m sure my crew would benefit from the exercise. After our frustrating experience with the Malons, an unusual spatial anomaly would refocus their energy in a more productive direction.”

  Dasht now stared at each of his fellow captains with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “And fine as your crew is, Xin,” he replied, “I’m sure mine will make short work of it.”

  After a brief pause, Itak surprised the hell out of Farkas by asking, “Would you care to place a small wager on that, Captain?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  VOYAGER

  B’Elanna Torres sat at the edge of the sandbox, watching her daughter intently. The holodeck program currently running had been B’Elanna’s creation, a large play-structure complete with swings, slides, bridges, ladders, monkey bars, and plenty of small tubes and bouncers where Miral could freely exercise the new physical skills she seemed to be developing daily. A soft, pliable synthetic flooring ran beneath most of the structure to cushion any falls, and a large sand pit ran along one entire side to accommodate her daughter’s endless fascination with digging, molding, and subsequently destroying with great glee whatever she had fashioned. B’Elanna had replicated several sturdy buckets, shovels, spades, and toys with gear-like wheels that turned one another when Miral poured sand through the cones at the top.

  Beyond the play structure were several acres of soft grass and climbing trees. With its perpetually warm spring-like climate, the park had become one of B’Elanna’s favorite places to retreat with Miral for the last few hours of the day before bedtime. But Miral had never seemed to enjoy her little haven as much as she did today.

  Once aboard Voyager, Seven had suggested to Riley that her people should avail themselves of the holodeck, if only to escape the confines of the cargo bay they now called home. The entire crew had offered to double up to provide space for the new arrivals, particularly the small families. But Riley had demurred, indicating that for the time being, the group would prefer to lodge together. Given all they had been through, it was too difficult to imagine living any other way.

  Seven had specifically suggested B’Elanna’s park simulation for the children. By mid-afternoon of the next day several families had ventured out to the holodeck.

  Most of the parents arrived in a state of numb wonder and B’Elanna’s heart had broken on their behalf. She could not help but imagine herself in their circumstances: forced to take refuge in darkened caves, forgoing their own needs so that their children could have whatever meager scraps of food they could steal, and with no way to fight those who had stolen their planet or hope of surviving if they tried to assert their rightful claim.

  During the years she had spent apart from Tom, she had often felt herself unduly burdened. There had been dark days during Voyager’s first trip through the Delta Quadrant when she doubted that they would survive, let alone make it home. Her time with the Maquis had certainly come with its fair share of sacrifices. Not that long ago, when Miral had been kidnapped, she had endured horrifying days not knowing if her daughter was alive or dead. But all this she had survived with warm clothing on her back and a full belly. The thought of watching her child suffer as these parents had seen their own children suffer filled B’Elanna with a terrible despair.

  The children, however, were a case study in resilience. Although they were understandably shy, particularly around B’Elanna and Miral at first, they showed none of their parents’ reluctance to make the most of the new opportunity for fun that was before them. The six oldest of the thirteen children, ranging in age from two to four, needed little coaxing from their parents to begin exploring the structure’s many thrilling devices. The others were still infants or barely walking, but with their parents’ help also gamboled about or found nice spots in the shade to crawl around on the grass.

  But the real revelation, to B’Elanna, was Miral. She smiled as she watched her daughter settle herself next to a scrawny boy named Shon and begin working on a sand castle. In her three-plus years of life, Miral had had no playmates. Shon and his companions had no sense of personal property and quickly surrendered any toy Miral might decide she wanted. But once B’Elanna had explained “sharing” to her, Miral quickly decided she wanted Shon and the others to enjoy her toys as much as she did. Despite the age differences, she was soon engaging with all of her new friends, laughing, chasing, and digging with gusto, until the holodeck could easily have been mistaken for any park on any planet filled with happy children.

  B’Elanna had never doubted that Voyager was the best and safest place for her daughter to grow up. But until this moment it had not crossed her mind how important for Miral it was to interact with other children. Yes, B’Elanna could create a bevy of holographic playmates, but even the most intricately programmed ones could never compare to a living one.

  There were no other children in the fleet. The other parents had left their children behind. As Miral played with unfettered joy, B’Elanna couldn’t help but think that her choices, while driven by a desire to protect Miral, might ultimately prove insufficient to her needs.

  • • •

  Captain Chakotay entered the bridge from his ready room.

  “Standard orbit established around Arehaz,” reported Commander Paris.

  When Riley had first suggested their destination, Chakotay found himself wondering if the place was a myth. However they had originated, the Borg had evolved in a manner that made basing their civilization around any single planet irrelevant. Wherever the queen was at any given time would have become the center of their society.

  Part of the knowledge Riley had gained from the Caeliar, subsequently confirmed by Seven, was the location of the planet where the Borg had first been formed. Thousands of years earlier, Arehaz had been a fairly standard Class-M world, home to a species known as the Kindir. The original inhabitants had all endured the crudest form of assimilation by the early Borg, or died trying to prevent it. Once the Borg achieved the ability to travel through space, they had stripped Arehaz of all of its resources, departed, and never looked back.

  Seven and Riley were in astrometrics, conducting
detailed scans of the planet. Chakotay expected to find a lifeless world, even in the wake of the Caeliar transformation. He had suggested this as delicately as possible to Riley, who clearly had pinned all of her hopes on a world she had never seen but to which she already felt connected. Chakotay doubted anything would be left on Arehaz that Riley’s people could use to build a new society. At first glance, his fears appeared to be well founded.

  Tom’s gaze was fixed on the main viewscreen as Chakotay took the seat beside him. Though much of the planet was shrouded in heavy cloud cover, the few visible wide swaths of darkness were as depressing a sight as any Chakotay had ever seen. After a moment Tom said softly, “We can’t just leave them here.”

  “It’s not up to us,” Chakotay replied.

  “But the . . .” Tom began.

  “Children?” Chakotay finished for him.

  Tom nodded slowly. Of all the changes wrought in Lieutenant Commander Thomas Eugene Paris over the last few years—the newfound discipline and sense of decorum, the aptitude for command, and the seriousness with which he applied himself to all of his duties—the most striking was his deep and abiding love for his daughter. During their lengthy exploration of the Yaris Nebula, Tom and Chakotay had found themselves with many uneventful hours to fill and Tom’s favorite subject of conversation had invariably been Miral. Chakotay had heard that once you brought a child into your life, your worldview altered to include a greater sensitivity to the needs of all children. Chakotay had always felt a similar proprietary regard for his crew. What he now saw through Tom’s eyes was the way in which it became impossible for a parent to see anyone else’s child in need and not imagine their own in the same situation. Survival instincts might drive one to protect their own child above all others, but parents found themselves in a much larger universe where, in some ways, every child became their responsibility.

  “I’m not going to abandon them on a world that cannot sustain them. Riley is a passionate and determined individual, but she’s not stupid. She’ll see reason,” Chakotay said.

  Tom turned to look at him. “I hope you’re right.”

  “ Captain Chakotay, please report to astrometrics,” Seven called out over the comm system.

  “On my way,” Chakotay replied, adding, “Paris, you have the bridge.”

  • • •

  Given what he’d seen of the planet so far, Chakotay was surprised when he entered the astrometrics lab to see Riley greet him with unbridled happiness. Seven’s eyes, as well, held surprised satisfaction. Unsure of the source of their enthusiasm, Chakotay quickly said, “Report.”

  “It’s more than I dared hope for,” Riley said, turning her eyes toward the massive image of the planet on the lab’s huge display.

  Chakotay looked to Seven, who quickly called up a smaller view of one of the land masses. Beside it, a series of geological and environmental statistics were listed. The first reading that caught his eye was the unmistakable presence of clean water.

  “Where is this?” he asked.

  “A region of approximately ten thousand square kilometers near the equator,” Seven replied. While the image on the screen wasn’t going to win a spot in any interstellar travel guide, it bore tentative signs of natural life, fertile soil, and a pleasant climate.

  “Did the Borg leave this behind?” Chakotay asked immediately, “or did the planet’s ecosystem begin to restore itself after they abandoned it?”

  Seven shook her head. “Before the Borg departed the planet, all of its natural resources would have been converted to energy appropriate to their technological needs. The water returned over the last two thousand years, but most of what you see here is what the Caeliar did.”

  Chakotay looked again at the small patch of land, his curiosity increasing. “But, how?”

  Riley smiled shyly. “The Borg did not take everything with them when they left. Their original structures, as well as smaller forms of waste and debris, remained and had begun to disintegrate over time. But the Caeliar didn’t simply wave a magic wand and make the Borg and their technology disappear. They transformed what was once Borg, replacing inferior technology with their catoms.”

  “Have you detected signs of catomic activity on the surface?” Chakotay asked. He was concerned that there might be new reasons why Riley and her people should not settle on the planet. The captain wanted to believe that Riley’s intentions were pure, but he wasn’t sure about leaving her and what had been her “collective” on a planet now infused with technology so advanced that no one in the Federation knew how it worked yet.

  “Only its results,” Seven assured him. “The catoms now present in my body, and the bodies of Doctor Frazier’s people, are limited in their use. They exist to sustain the functions formerly performed by nanoprobes and implants, and although they may heighten some . . . abilities, they cannot be adapted for any other purpose. Likewise, the catoms that have begun to restore this planet were programmed for a single function. Once the planet’s natural ecosystem began to assert itself, which appears to have been within weeks of the transformation, the catoms disintegrated, leaving the planet free to evolve on its own again.”

  Chakotay was stunned. “Is this effect planetwide?”

  Seven shrugged. “There are large areas where the planet was stripped so deeply that in the absence of a massive terraforming effort, it will take tens of thousands of years for them to be capable of sustaining life. But, there is more than enough land and water currently available for Doctor Frazier’s small group to begin their lives here. We could certainly provide them with the supplies they would need to sustain themselves through several planting seasons, as well as temporary structures that could be reinforced over time.” Turning to Riley, she added, “One of our fleet vessels, the Demeter, also contains a wide variety of suitable botanical life. I will make a request at the earliest opportunity to Fleet Commander Eden that Demeter schedule a detour here in the coming months to check on your progress and to add to your supplies.”

  Chakotay nodded slowly. To Riley he said, “You’re sure this is what you want? It’s just habitable down there, and it’s still going to be a long walk down a tough road.”

  Riley nodded, her eyes glistening. “It is. And while I appreciate the offer, I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything more for us. You have given us our lives back, you and the Caeliar. I think it would be an insult to throw away the opportunities now before us.”

  Chakotay exchanged a brief smile with Seven. “What more is there to say?”

  “How about ‘welcome home’?” Riley replied.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ESQUILINE

  Captain Parimon Dasht was glad he had taken Captain Itak up on his wager. After arriving first at the coordinates to analyze the “anomaly,” he had reluctantly admitted that the sight of it unnerved him. He was now quite grateful that the Esquiline was not alone and that four of Starfleet’s best science teams were studying it.

  Twenty-four hours after their work had begun, Captain Dasht had convened a meeting in his briefing room for his sister ship’s captains and their science officers to discuss their progress. He laid out food, as he seriously doubted any of them had taken a break since they had first laid eyes on the thing.

  Settling himself at the table, Dasht watched as the captain of the Quirinal did likewise. Regina Farkas—a cheery woman with short white hair and a faint scar running along the right side of her face—opened the discussion by asking, “So what the hell is it?” Farkas then quickly added, “And extra points go to anyone who can explain it so I can understand it.” Her chief science officer, Lieutenant Hornung, a brunette with light green eyes and ruddy cheeks, grimaced slightly. Nodding toward her, Farkas noted, “Tonil, here, hasn’t earned any of those points today.”

  Lieutenant Lern, Hawking’s science officer, said, “It might be easier to begin by discussing what the anomaly is not.”

  “Sounds promising,” Farkas observed.

  “It is not no
rmal space,” Lern said.

  “I’m still with you,” Farkas said.

  “Nor is it an object occupying normal space,” Lern ventured.

  Farkas shot her science officer a look that seemed to say, See, that’s not so hard, is it?

  Lieutenant Livermore, who had first detected the anomaly from Esquiline’s astrometrics lab, added, “It is not matter, dark matter, a collapsed star, a black hole, or an interdimensional rift. Nor is it a life-form.”

  “But it is solid,” the Curie’s Lieutenant Juana pointed out.

  “It is not,” Hornung contradicted her.

  “How would you characterize it?” Lern asked with typical Vulcan restraint.

  “It is a discrete, highly localized area in which the normal laws of space and time do not appear to apply,” Livermore interjected before Hornung had the chance.

  At this, Dasht stole a glance at Farkas, whose brow was beginning to furrow. “So, how do the laws of space and time suddenly get suspended?” Farkas asked.

  All of the scientists waited expectantly for one of their own to offer a suggestion. Finally, the Vulcan science officer said, “We are, at minimum, seven hours from providing an answer to that question.”

  “Does it correspond to any other interstellar phenomenon?” Captain Chan asked.

  “No, sir,” his science officer quickly replied, “at least not to anything in our databases.”

  “A unique discovery, then,” Dasht noted, pleased by the thought.

  “That much even I gathered.” Farkas smiled. “But how can it be solid and not solid?”

  “Quantum scans are inconclusive,” Hornung replied. “It acts solid. If a ship were to, say, run into it at impulse speed, it would likely impede our progress, and its presence would make establishing a warp field in its immediate area impossible. But the readings suggest it is more akin to an absence of matter.”