Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [177]
“All right. I’ll give it a try. But I reserve the right to change my miiiind…” Her eyes drooped closed as her will trickled away, then darkness.
Exhale.
Something coarse and wet licked her cheek. She couldn’t immediately identify why it felt familiar, but within seconds sense memory returned. A wide smile curved over Kathryn’s face. She opened her eyes and reached up her hands to bury them in Molly’s shaggy mane. She pushed up on one elbow and nuzzled her dog’s muzzle. Molly pawed at her mistress’s arms with sodden forelegs, indicating her desire to play, so Janeway scrambled to her knees.
“Oh girl, you’ve been in the pond again.” Janeway tsked disapproval, but scratched between the dog’s ears anyway, and Molly panted gratefully. At least Mother’s livestock was being pastured at the neighbor’s this week, otherwise she wouldn’t want to think about what muck Molly would be into. She inhaled deeply, wondering when she’d again take in the scents of freshly mowed lawn, the damask roses in her mother’s arbor, the damp, peaty tang of soil overturned in preparation for the next planting. Wrapping her arms around Molly’s neck, she hugged her dog to her chest, looking out over the fields at the last pink-periwinkle vestiges of the setting sun.
Tall grass swished behind her; recognizing the footfalls, she twisted slightly to the side in time to see a familiar pair of lanky legs-she lifted her gaze higher-and a handsome face. “I haven’t slept through dinner, have I?” she called out.
Mark grinned. It was an old joke between them: both driven, hyper-focused scientists who often worked straight through meals, appointments, and sleep cycles, without realizing time passing. “Starfleet has a priority communication coming through in a few minutes. I thought you’d want to be there- “
Before he could finish delivering his message, she was up on her feet, headed up the gravel path to the house. Skipping up the steps, she clonked across the farmhouse porch’s wooden planks to the door and launched into her mother’s living room, forgetting to wipe her boots on the braided rag rug. Two muddy steps across the threshold, she remembered; instead of going back outside to clean up, she kicked her boots off next to a brass umbrella stand.
“Didn’t take you long,” Gretchen Janeway noted wryly as she raced past the kitchen doorway on her way to the den.
As she walked, she ran a hand cursorily through her wind-tangled hair, then buttoned her dirt-smudged jacket, hoping she’d managed a somewhat respectable appearance. She’d taken her seat in front of the com panel by the time the familiar Federation logo interposed on a solid-color background blinked onto the screen. Admiral Owen Paris appeared.
“Kathryn. I’m glad we were able to connect. I have some news. You’ll need to make a decision-immediately.”
“Admiral?” She leaned forward.
“Headquarters was just contacted by the Trondheim, which was in the Bajoran sector conducting a scientific study of the plasma storms in the Badlands. A crew emergency forced them back to Deep Space 9. It occurred to command that perhaps we could save time by sending the Trondheim after Tuvok and dispatch Voyager to complete the Trondheim’s scientific mission in another week or so. Especially since time is of the essence where Tuvok’s concerned, and ideally, Voyager’s better equipped to handle the survey anyway.”
Janeway opened her mouth to answer, but her breath caught in her throat. A most peculiar feeling overcame her, and she knew that her response to Admiral Paris would change her life.
“Just think, Kathryn, you could move your wedding up a few weeks-you wouldn’t have to postpone your honeymoon until after the Sumatra’s rainy season like you’d originally thought. It’s a perfect time to begin your new life-a new command, a marriage-a whole future.”
The word picture he painted lulled Janeway into a thoughtful state; she breathed in and out slowly as she visualized, over an elongated moment, the alluring possibilities. What harm would be done if someone else took up the search for Tuvok? After all, she