Cohesion

  “I have done nothing, Lieutenant. Nanoprobes are monitoring your physiology. It is possible that they are adjusting some of your functions for maximum efficiency.”

  “You mean they’re drugging me?” B’Elanna knew she should be upset by the idea, but was not. Apparently, she could not be if the nanoprobes would not permit it.

  Seven shrugged. “This is what I believe you would refer to as hair splitting.”

  “I’d prefer they didn’t do it,” B’Elanna said. “Make them stop.”

  “You make them stop, Lieutenant. They are your nanoprobes.”

  B’Elanna considered the idea: her nanoprobes. Hers. How could she make them obey her? More important, what was the point of ordering them to let her be the agitated and inefficient B’Elanna of old? Why not maintain this calm, cool clarity? She looked at Seven and for the first time found that the Borg’s icy tranquility did not annoy her. Indeed, she found it admirable. What am I thinking? she wondered, and shook herself out of her reverie. A moment later, she felt the nanoprobe-induced serenity lift. Blood moved into her face and B’Elanna knew she was pink-cheeked with fury.

  Obviously observing this, Seven nodded briefly, then rose from B’Elanna’s bedside. “We must make plans. How can we contact Voyager?”

  “You’re walking!” B’Elanna said. “What happened? I thought you said your spine was damaged and your nanoprobes couldn’t complete the repair.”

  “Ah,” Seven said. “But using your nervous system as a guide, the nanoprobes were able to replicate the necessary tissue. It is easier to trace than to create.”

  “My nervous system was the guide?” B’Elanna asked. “How…?”

  “The process of injecting you with nanoprobes was not one-way,” Seven said. “As with any such process, there is always a mingling of essences. I did not think you would mind.”

  “I…don’t,” B’Elanna said. She thought she should, but had to admit to herself that she did not. She could see again; Seven could walk again. Both of them were restored and they might now be able to help their crewmates. What could be wrong with that? Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere underneath it all, she should feel violated, but that the nanoprobes were nullifying any opposition she might have to the idea. How can I trust anything I’m feeling? How can I ever know if anything I’m doing is because it’s something I want to do? Then the clincher—the final thought on the subject—came: How did I know if that was ever true before?

  “Very well,” Seven said. “To continue, then…”

  B’Elanna nodded, rising slowly. “Right. Voyager. Kaytok’s people were able to find the ship with their equipment; whether that was intentional or not is immaterial. We’ll need the subspace radio array from the shuttle to…”

  “…Pierce the veil and speak to Voyager. But a closer examination of their equipment…”

  “…Would be useful,” B’Elanna continued. “Where’s Kaytok? We’ll need to…”

  “…Make arrangements,” Seven said. “He is downstairs waiting for us. I believe he understands that we wish to aid him. However, he also fears this installation will be investigated in the near future. We must move quickly. If the authorities…”

  “…Confiscate their shield generator, we’re screwed.”

  “And so are the Monorhans,” Seven concluded.

  Both women paused and looked intently at each other. “Did we really just do that?” B’Elanna asked.

  “I believe we did,” Seven said and made a face that on anyone else B’Elanna would have had to describe as a wry smile. “Hmph,” she said. “The feeling was almost…nostalgic.”

  * * *

  “So, we’re in a bag?” Tom asked. “And you want me to fly us out through a tiny opening you think might be near the top? An opening big enough that it only lets in subatomic particles, but nothing else?”

  Harry nodded. Tom looked around the conference table and noted that everyone (except for the Doctor, naturally) appeared exhausted. Just before he had come up to the meeting, Tom had stopped in his quarters to change into a fresh uniform and had been surprised by what he saw in the mirror. Being up for more than twenty-four hours would account for the dark circles and the pasty complexion, but not the red eyes and the broken blood vessels around his nose. A check with the medical tricorder confirmed his suspicion: the shields were letting in radiation, so the hyronalin injections were wearing off sooner than the Doctor had predicted. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Any other miracles you want me to pull off?”

  “Tom,” Chakotay said, his tone warning Paris to ease off the sarcasm.

  “Sorry, Harry.” He dipped his head toward the captain. “Apologies, Captain.”

  “It’s all right, Tom,” Captain Janeway said tolerantly. “Fortunately, it won’t be as difficult as that. We’re pretty sure that we can use the deflector and quantum torpedoes to widen the opening.”

  “But we’re not sure exactly how much,” Tom said.

  “Correct. It may be a very narrow opening, which is why I want you at the helm.”

  “All right,” Tom said, pleased despite himself. “But if I understood everything else you and Harry were saying, there are other problems.”

  “There are,” the captain said. “First, we don’t know precisely what’s going to be on the other side of the opening. It might be normal space. The ‘top of the bag’ might be the way we came in.”

  “But you don’t think so,” Tom finished for her.

  “No, I don’t. I think we came in through a rent in space precisely as we discussed…” The sentence trailed off. “How long ago was that? Only yesterday?” She shook her head in mild disbelief, then resumed. “I think we’re going to find ourselves somewhere else. We have a theory, in any case, but that’s not important right this second. The other factor that will complicate this process is.”

  “The shields,” Tom said.

  Tuvok said, “We do not have enough power to keep the shields at their current level and employ the navigational deflector as the captain described. We will be affected by the radiation. I will arrange the shields so that the bridge is as protected as possible, but we will need to program the autopilot to see us through in the event Mr. Paris cannot.”

  “And what about the rest of the crew?” the Doctor asked.

  “We’re moving everyone into the center of the ship,” Chakotay said. “You said earlier that you didn’t feel the effects in sickbay, so we’re going to put as many people as possible down there.”

  “Lovely,” the Doctor grumbled. “Company.”

  “You can sing to them, Doc,” Tom said. “That’ll keep them settled.”

  The Doctor’s eyebrows shot up as he considered the possibility of a captive audience.

  “And Neelix?” the captain said. “I’d like you to stay with the Monorhans. Their section of the ship is well protected, but I think they’ll feel more reassured if you’re nearby.”

  “Captain Ziv said that he did not feel the effects of the radiation last time,” Neelix pointed out.

  “No, but Morsa did,” Chakotay said. “Probably because he was in the shuttle hangar. The Monorhans may have some resistance to the effect, but there’s no guarantee they’re completely immune.”

  “One last question, Doctor,” the captain said. “Will another round of hyronalin help?”

  “It would,” the Doctor said, “if we had time to synthesize enough for the entire crew. However, with all the power going to the shields…”

  “Is there enough for Tom and the rest of the bridge crew to have a dose?”

  The Doctor nodded. “Barely.”

  “Then do that.” The captain looked around the room and asked, “Are there any more questions? Comments? Does everyone know what they’re doing?” All around the table, heads nodded in acceptance. Tom was briefly struck by how strange it felt to have everyone acquiesce so quickly, then recalled that neither Seven nor B’Elanna was present. One of them, of course, would have found a reason to disagree. Not
for the first time he wondered how the pair were getting along.

  * * *

  “Mr. Neelix?”

  The Talaxian looked up from the padd he had been studying and was surprised to find the rih-hara-tan standing before him. Had he been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t heard her enter the dining hall? Neelix doubted it, but he had to admit he had grown accustomed to the clamor humans made when they moved around and had forgotten that many races could be much quieter. Kes, he recalled, could walk across a sand-covered floor and barely stir a grain of sand. He sighed, remembering his lover and companion, and was then startled to realize he had not thought about her for many days. Shaking aside such thoughts, Neelix rose and said, “Yes, ma’am. My apologies. I was lost in thought. What can I do for you?”

  “It is I who should apologize to you, Mr. Neelix,” Sem said, her voice low and sweet. “I don’t wish to distract you from your work, but Captain Janeway told me I should contact you if I need anything…” She hesitated, seemingly confused and a little flustered. “And there’s so much here I don’t understand. Could you help me?”

  “Of course!” Neelix said, pleased to be of service. His primary role during the kind of emergency Voyager was currently embroiled in was to monitor the crew and make sure they ate and rested regularly. Neelix knew he was well suited to the role, but the situation had not evolved to the point where he needed to exercise the authority the captain had invested in him, so he was, as a consequence, slightly underemployed, especially since Captain Ziv’s hara had sequestered themselves in their quarters. He was surprised to see Sem, but despite the earlier unpleasantness, he was determined to assist her in any way possible. “What can I do for you, rih-hara-tan?”

  “Well,” Sem said, “first, I was hoping you could help me find something to eat. Commander Chakotay explained how the replicators worked, but I must be doing something wrong. The machine doesn’t seem to understand what I’m asking for.”

  “It wouldn’t,” Neelix said, escorting her to a small table. “Especially if you’re asking for something it doesn’t recognize. What did you want?”

  “A beverage. Something hot, I think. On my world, we drink a kind of infusion called nualla. It’s slightly bitter, but calming. Do you have anything like that?”

  “Ma’am,” Neelix said, laughing and pulling out a chair for Sem, “thousands. We should sample some items to see if you can find something close.”

  Settling into her seat, Sem emitted a small trill that Neelix took to be a sound of merriment and pleasure. “Where do we begin?”

  “With some green tea, I think,” Neelix said, rubbing his hands together with anticipation. “Something mild.” Speaking to the replicator, he ordered a cup of jasmine and waited as the device assembled the beverage from its component molecules. “You understand, this won’t be as good as something I could make from fresh ingredients, but the kitchen isn’t open during yellow alerts. Too much danger of fire or…” He waved his hands vaguely. “Collateral damage.”

  “I understand,” Sem said as he set the cup down in front of her. “Though I hope I’ll have the chance to try more of your cuisine before we leave. I thought the food you prepared for the banquet was quite lovely.”

  “Oh, that?” Neelix exclaimed. “A banquet? That was nothing. Pretty much just cleaned out the refrigerator.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” Sem said as she picked up her teacup and sniffed the brew. She jerked her head back slightly at the faint aroma, but then inched closer to it again and inhaled carefully. “This is interesting,” she said. “Not what I was thinking of, but interesting.” She took a small sip, then quickly set the cup down.

  “Too hot?”

  Sem nodded rapidly.

  “Not to your taste?”

  “I’d like to let it cool,” Sem said, then coughed slightly as if to clear her throat.

  “Is there something else I can get you?” Neelix asked. He found he was feeling ever-so-slightly protective of her. Wondering if perhaps his earlier judgment had been too harsh, he asked solicitously, “Hungry?”

  “No,” Sem said, then rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Exhausted, though. It has been a trying day.”

  “You should try to rest,” Neelix said. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do when you get home.”

  “I’d like to,” Sem said. “I’ve tried to sleep, but the humming is oppressive. I don’t notice it so much when I’m awake, but when I’m trying to relax…”

  Neelix regarded Sem curiously. “Humming?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  Sem clicked once, a sound of impatience, and waved her hand past her left ear. “You don’t hear it? It’s ever present.”

  Neelix cocked his head and strained to listen carefully. “No,” he said. “When did you start hearing it?”

  “First on the shuttle,” Sem said, her tone growing irritated. “I thought it was the engines or some piece of equipment, but then I heard it in the hangar and have ever since. You really don’t know what I mean?”

  “I’m afraid not, ma’am,” Neelix said. “None of Captain Ziv’s hara mentioned a humming.”

  “Really?” Sem asked, surprised. “How odd. It’s been…pervasive. I assumed you all heard it.”

  “No,” Neelix said, “and I have particularly acute hearing.” This was an interesting puzzle, one he felt bound to solve. The constant irritation a disturbing noise would produce might explain some of Sem’s behavior.

  “Well, not entirely pervasive,” Sem said, correcting herself. “There was a short time in the hangar when the sound disappeared.”

  “Really? When?”

  “During the period when your shields were down,” Sem said. “I remember there was a sound, a soft thud. Several in a row, in fact.”

  Searching his memory, Neelix tried to remember what might have happened in the shuttlebay while the shields were down. Of course, Commander Chakotay had his small misadventure and the forcefield had collapsed briefly. What else? He usually reviewed the damage control reports after every such incident so he could keep track of which crew members might require some special attention later. Fortunately, none of the shuttle crews had been hurt in the incident, though he had heard Chief Clemens was aggravated that B’Elanna hadn’t been able to assign a damage control team to replace the bio-neural gel packs that had burst….

  “Ah!” Neelix said, standing up. “I believe I have an answer! Come over here, please,” he said, leading Sem back to the replicator.

  “I don’t think I want any more tea, Mr. Neelix.”

  “Not tea. I’m not going to prepare anything. I just want you to stand here. Wait.” He bustled back and brought a chair. “Sit,” he said. Though Neelix couldn’t account for it, there was certainly something about the Monorhan that made him feel solicitous. “Just in case this makes you feel poorly.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Voyager, I’m told, possesses some fascinating technology.” Touching a pressure point under the replicator, the maintenance panel snapped open.

  “I should say,” Sem said.

  “My friends tell me that the most innovative is this.” Reaching into the replicators depths, Neelix pulled out one of the gel pack modules. The case was sealed, but he could tell from the way the Monorhan shied away from the unit that this was the source of her discomfort. “This module contains bio-neural circuitry—a kind of neural tissue that’s used to process data faster than any inorganic substance could.”

  Sem lowered her head down to her shoulders. “You mean,” she said, “the ship is alive?”

  “Not precisely. The neural tissue is artificial, but it simulates neural tissue’s ability to process data very efficiently.”

  “Ah,” Sem said. “Then the hum I’m hearing is the sound of the ship thinking.”

  Neelix grinned, delighted by the idea. “I suppose. I understand you possess psionic abilities beyond those of your hara. That would account for your sensitivity.”

/>   “As a rih-hara-tan, I can touch the minds of every member of my tribe,” Sem said. “If I understand what you’re saying correctly, I believe you are correct.” Pointing at the gel pack, she asked, “Could you put that away now? In such close proximity, the noise is disconcerting.”

  “Sorry!” Neelix said and gently replaced the module in the maintenance bay. “The good news is that I believe we can now solve your problem. I can ask the chief engineer to shut down the circuitry near your quarters.”

  “He can do that?”

  “If he can reroute all the critical systems, certainly. We’re trying to conserve energy anyway.”

  “Does the circuitry run throughout the ship?”

  “Oh, yes, everywhere.”

  Sem rose then and bowed slightly. “Thank you, Mr. Neelix. You’ve been so helpful. I will be sure to mention your kindness when next I speak to the captain.”

  “Oh, that’s all right,” Neelix said, delighted. “I’m glad I could…” Behind him, he heard a small popping sound. Turning back to the replicator, he immediately saw that the small indicator light that meant the system had failed was blinking. “Oh, dear,” he said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I must have jostled the circuitry when I replaced it.” He grimaced. “It’s very fussy.”

  “Will your captain be angry?”

  “I…I don’t think so,” Neelix said, but then he thought of B’Elanna and mentally winced. “But I should report the problem as quickly as possible. Is there anything else I can get for you, ma’am?”

  “No, you’ve been more than helpful. Please speak to your engineer as soon as possible. I would like to get some sleep soon.” Leaving barely a ripple, Sem turned and swept out of the dining hall, the only sound to mark her passing being the swish of the door.

  Interesting woman, he thought, and was suddenly struck by how she reminded him in some ways of Kes. Not as kind or as gentle, he concluded. But there’s something…

  * * *

  Seven of Nine was irritated. Having shaken off the calming influence of the nanoprobes, Torres was now being as difficult as ever, insisting on making all the decisions concerning the repairs to the shield control generator. Apparently, Pad, the Monorhan who had attached the explosive charge to the panel, had used more than he knew. His intention had been to surprise, not to injure meddlers or damage their work. When Seven had observed to Kaytok that a simple alarm may have been more effective, he had ducked his head and said, “You don’t know Pad.”