Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [120]
The station manager replied. “If our historical records of the Voth are accurate, they will go to any lengths to preserve their desired status quo. And they can rarely be roused to exert themselves on behalf of others. We only tried asking because they were the ones most likely to know how to cope with this crisis. Instead we turn to you-since the probe is yours, hopefully you will have insights our scientists lack.”
“We promise we’ll do everything we can,” Janeway told him.
Indeed, the brainstorming went quickly. Whatever else Marika might feel about this crew, they were certainly skilled at solving technical problems. No signal or phaser could reach the probe; it would take active navigation to compensate for the twisted subspace geodesics. Could Voyager go in? No, the tidal stresses would tear it apart. A shuttle could get closer, but not into the rift itself. A probe’s systems would be fried, and a remote-navigated torpedo couldn’t get clear telemetry through the interference. Even the Doctor’s mobile emitter couldn’t withstand the subspace radiation.
Marika was the first to admit where this was inevitably heading. “The only way is if someone goes in there to shut the probe down manually. Get as close as possible in a shuttle and spacewalk into the rift itself.”
“But the radiation would kill them in minutes, even in a rad-hardened spacesuit,” B’Elanna said.
“That’s long enough to get the job done.”
“It’s a suicide mission!”
“Yes, it is. Which is why I have to be the one to do it.”
Everyone stared. Harry was most horrified of all. “Karah, no-you can’t be serious!”
Steeling herself, she pulled him aside. “Harry, it’s the only decision that makes any sense. I’ve only got a couple of weeks left to me anyway. Besides, my leftover Borg components might give me an edge, let me survive longer.”
“If the radiation doesn’t fry them!”
“They aren’t electronics, mostly. Structural reinforcements, that sort of thing-ohh, Harry, the mechanics don’t matter! The point is, I’m dying anyway. At least this way it serves a purpose. And it’ll be quick. No lingering, no slow decay. It’s better this way… for both of us.”
“But…” He struggled for words.
Marika sighed, and turned to Janeway. “Captain, could we be excused for a moment?”
The captain nodded. Marika led Harry out into the corridor, and hugged him close. “Harry, I have to do this. Aside from all the other reasons, this is a way I can make amends for everything I did as a Borg. A way that I’m uniquely suited to help people. Something that gives my death meaning-and maybe gives meaning to everything in my life that led me to this point.”
“And what about us? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Ohh, Harry. You know it does.” She kissed him, stroked his cheek. “These past six days have meant more to me even than ten months of marriage did. But that only made a difference to you and me. This will make a difference for countless other people. Wouldn’t you give your life for that?”
He fell silent, unable to counter that. But he was still struggling with it, resisting the truth. “Harry, you knew this was going to happen soon enough.”
“I know. I know. But-I thought we’d have a few weeks, at least. It’s only been six days! There’s still so much we haven’t done, haven’t said.”
“I know, my love. But isn’t that the whole point? Happiness… it’s a finite thing. You never know how long it’s going to last. So you have to celebrate each moment of happiness that you get, cherish it, and not value it any less because of its brevity.” She kissed him again. “If we’d only had one night… one hour… one kiss… it would’ve still meant just as much. Because sometimes that’s all you have.
“That’s something these Voth don’t seem to understand. They think they can keep things the way they are forever, and they’re willing to destroy people’s lives and happiness for it. They sacrifice their own present and others’ to the myth of a certain future. Everything we’ve done, Harry, everything we’ve shared, has been a refusal to make that sacrifice. But it means