Homecoming - Christie Golden [19]
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “this banquet is going to serve a double purpose. Not only are we able to finally welcome back our husbands and wives, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters once thought lost, we have an opportunity to recognize some of those for special achievement during that incredible seven-year journey. Will the following people step forward: Ensign Lyssa Campbell. Ensign Vorik. Ensign Harry Kim.”
Surprised, Harry glanced down at Libby. She pushed him forward. “Well, go on!” she said, grinning impishly.
He moved forward to step beside Lyssa and Vorik. Lyssa was almost bouncing up and down, her blue eyes bright. Vorik, of course, was as composed as a good son of Vulcan ought to be.
“You know what this is about?” Lyssa whispered.
“Nope,” Harry shot back.
Paris was continuing to recite names. Harry saw Tom and B’Elanna step forward, along with their captain.
They formed a line and stood at attention before Admiral Paris. An aide appeared beside him, carrying a small box.
“At ease,” Paris said. “This is a bit impromptu, but it’s the best we could do on such short notice, and we [54] certainly didn’t want to wait. Captain Janeway, please step forward.”
She did so. The aide opened the small wooden box. Nestled against the lush purple of velvet were several pips. Harry took a quick, sharp breath as he realized what was coming.
“For your determination in getting your crew home despite almost impossible odds—and for beating the Borg at their own game—you are hereby promoted to admiral.”
Something flickered in Janeway’s eyes and then was gone. Harry thought he knew what it was. Admiral. No more ship. Just a desk job. It might have been an advancement in rank, but for Janeway, Kim knew it was a demotion to the soul.
He also thought she might be thinking of the Admiral Janeway who had crossed the barrier of time itself to help them return home at the cost of her life. That had to be a bittersweet association. Nonetheless, the new admiral smiled as if it pleased her no end.
Paris went down the row. Both Lieutenants Paris and Torres became lieutenant commanders. And Kim, Vorik, and Campbell turned to face the applause of the crowd as lieutenants. He couldn’t help but glance in Libby’s direction. She was clapping wildly.
“And now,” said Paris, “it’s my understanding that the chefs have been waiting seven years to prepare this particular welcome-home banquet. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.”
To Libby, the banquet seemed to drag on forever. When, finally, it wound down and the Kims asked [55] Libby to join them for tea at their home, she declined as politely as possible. She made certain that there was not a chance for her to be truly alone with the young lieutenant. She wasn’t ready for that yet. So she hugged his parents good-bye, smiled with what she hoped was shy sincerity at Harry, and agreed to meet him for lunch tomorrow.
When she materialized in her own small seaside cabin, she breathed an enormous sigh of relief. Her cats, Indigo and Rowena, meowed with annoyance. It was well past their dinnertime and they weren’t going to let her forget it. She stooped to pet Indigo and picked up Rowena. Going to the window, she looked out on the seascape.
It was almost a full moon tonight, and the waves were exquisite shades of dark blues and grays. The incessant, steady rhythm of the waves being called by the moon to come ashore, then retreat, soothed her after the rough night. She cuddled Rowena close and rested her cheek against the white cat’s fur. She heard the lop-eared Binky shuffling about in his pen.
Libby liked it here, far from anyone, alone with her animals and her music in this small cabin. She had enough interaction with people in the course of her performances. Funny, she mused. They had always assumed Harry was going to be the famous musician of the two of them. Libby’s interest in the Ktarian version of the harp, the lal-shak, was regarded by everyone, including herself, as nothing more than a pleasant hobby.