Homecoming - Christie Golden [27]
“That is the third time you have said so, Ensign Randolph,” said Seven. She regretted her words as the young man’s face flushed bright red. Even his ears were red.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” she said genuinely. “I’m not used to being ... idolized. It is not a comfortable sensation.”
Randolph turned to look at her, his blue eyes shining. “Oh, but ma’am, you’ve been with the Borg most of [77] your life, and yet you were able to walk away from their evil without a second look back.”
“Hardly true,” said Seven. “There was a long time indeed where I wanted nothing more than to return to the collective. It was only Captain—Admiral Janeway’s faith in me that kept me among the ranks of humans.”
He looked puzzled. A little of her allure had no doubt just been removed as far as he was concerned. Seven was glad of it. The sooner people stopped thinking she was some kind of goddess, the better she—
“What is that?” she said, looking at a small sea of colors as they began their descent. Quickly, she was able to answer her own question as they drew closer.
Dozens of people had formed a ring around her aunt’s house. A huge banner sported the words BYE-BYE BORG, HELLO SEVEN OF NINE! There was a hot-air balloon hovering close to the shuttle.
“Geez,” said Randolph. “Oh, geez.” He looked a little panicky as he thumbed the controls. “Ensign Randolph to Admiral Paris. We have a heck of a welcome-home party here for Miss Seven. What would you like me to do?”
“Damn,” said Paris, and to his credit he sounded rueful. “Someone must have leaked Irene Hansen’s address. Seven, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to run the gauntlet here. Randolph, I authorize you to use force if the crowd becomes too much for you to handle.”
“It’s just a welcome-home party, sir. I doubt they’ll become violent.”
But Seven was staring at the huge crush of people, and her breathing grew rapid and shallow. So many of [78] them. She was used to being with hundreds of drones at a time, of course. She had experienced more years of other voices in her head, other beings at her side, than she had years of being alone. But these weren’t Borg drones, comfortable and familiar in their predictability. These were individuals. Without data, their behavior could not be at all predicted, and that made her nervous. She had thought the people who had gathered around her at the banquet had been bad enough, but that had only been about twenty or thirty people at the most. She was looking now at dozens, perhaps hundreds.
My arrival here is not a spectator sport! Anger surged through her. She had done nothing to these people. Why were they denying her a quiet, calm reunion with her aunt?
“We should return,” she stated. “They will disperse once they see I am not disembarking.”
Randolph laughed. “Ma’am, I’m willing to bet some of these people have been camping out here for days, ever since news of Voyager’s arrival was made public. They know you’re going to have to disembark sometime.”
“I will transport in.”
“I don’t think you quite grasp the level of your celebrity, ma’am; Certainly you can transport directly into your aunt’s living room, but this crowd isn’t going to go away until they lay eyes on you in person. It’s you they want.”
Seven’s eyes narrowed. “Then I shall give myself to them,” she said. Something about her tone of voice made Randolph look at her uneasily, but he did not comment.
[79] “Shall I take her down then, ma’am?”
“Proceed, Ensign.”
The nearest place to land the shuttle was several yards from the old farmhouse that Irene Hansen called home. Randolph made straight for it, and Seven watched with revulsion as the tiny figures raced toward the clearing where the shuttle would set down. Ants. They looked like ants, racing along with a sense of purpose that ironically turned them into mindless beings.
Randolph landed the shuttle with great skill, considering the circumstances. He turned to her and started to say, “Let me go out first and—” But it was too late. Seven had already opened the door and jumped lightly to the grass.
A cheer rose up. Seven