Homecoming - Christie Golden [20]
But when Harry had gone, vanished as if swallowed, she had turned to the instrument for comfort in assuaging her grief. She had played for hours on end, played [56] until her fingers bled, stained the fine rose-colored wood with her tears. An immense talent had come to the surface with the force of a volcano, a talent that no one, not even she, had guessed she possessed. Now she was widely regarded as the finest non-Ktarian player of the instrument in existence, and she was sought after hungrily for her musical gifts.
She was appreciated for talents other than musical as well.
Absently, she put some food into a dish for the cats, dropped some veggies and special pellets into the pen for Binky, and went into the bedroom of the small cabin.
She stood beside the bed, pressed the wall in just the right spot, and the holographic illusion of a driftwood-gray wall disappeared. In its place were a racing series of blinking lights and a control panel that put that of most starships to shame.
Libby was tired. She wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and let the ceaseless song of the ocean lull her into dreamless sleep. But she was a professional, and professionals didn’t shirk their duty, no matter how tired and heartsore they might be.
She stepped forward and submitted to the retinal scan and the DNA check. The face of an attractive, pale woman with blond hair appeared on the screen.
“Agent Webber,” said Brenna Covington, director of Starfleet Intelligence’s Covert Operations. “I’ve been waiting for your report.”
Chapter 5
IT WAS ONLY THE SECOND TIME Libby had laid eyes on the director, Brenna Covington was notorious for keeping to herself, even for someone in charge of Covert Operations and Deep Cover assignments, Earth Division. She met with agents on a “need to know” basis. Libby had been doing well in the agency and, during her studies on Ktar, had helped to uncover a plot to attack the Federation. It was not, as everyone had first thought, a Ktarian scheme, but the plan of another alien race. Libby had helped clear the people whose music brought her such pleasure, and it had been quite a feather in her cap. She was moving steadily and swiftly through the ranks, very quickly for such a junior agent. After all, she had been with Starfleet Intelligence for only six and a half years.
Until that time, she had known only what other [58] civilians knew about SI, which was little more than that it existed and that it helped the Federation protect itself. At that point, her whole life lay before her, and she was determined to live in the open, in the sunlight, in the light of her love’s adoration. Then Harry had gone, and with his absence came a darkness in her soul that was terrifying. In her grief, she had sought knowledge of what had happened to Harry, and in a confused, jumbled way had come to the conclusion that joining Starfleet Intelligence could help her find that knowledge.
Of course, it hadn’t, but in the end, it had been a good pairing. SI liked that Libby seemed an unlikely suspect, a civilian with no formal Starfleet connections. They liked that she was deceptively open-faced and appeared to be focused only on her love of performing. They liked that she was physically and personally attractive. They liked that her concerts took her all over the quadrant, for music was a universal language and appreciated even by those who wanted no part of the Federation.
And now, with Voyager’s sudden and shattering return, they liked that Libby had once been engaged to Harry Kim.
It was this that intrigued Director Covington, and it was this connection that made Libby Webber uniquely placed to do her other job—spying. When the call had come a week ago, Libby had of course gone to meet the Federation legend, and when Brenna Covington had asked her to attend the welcome-home banquet and report back, she had agreed.
“How are you handling it, Agent Webber?” [59] Covington had inquired, leaning forward solicitously. She was a pale woman—pale eyes, pale skin, pale hair—but quite attractive, and almost motherly in her