Homecoming - Christie Golden [43]
“Go on.”
“My name is indeed Oliver Baines, but I’m not a doctor. I’m a programmer. My job is to maintain the efficacy of the EMH Mark One holograms mining dilithium on Lynarik Prime.”
The Doctor closed his eyes briefly, knowing where this was heading.
Perhaps sensing that his visit was about to be cut short, Baines spoke quickly.
“I’m the only organic being there. I’m surrounded by versions of you. I know what they were designed for, and I see what they’re being forced to do. It’s barbaric, something unworthy of an advanced civilization. These people—these photonic beings—are nothing more glamorous than slaves, Doctor. They didn’t have the chance you did aboard Voyager. Captain Janeway had no flesh-and-blood doctor. She had to utilize you, and you were more than up to the challenge. Look what you did when you had the opportunity! Don’t these versions of you, who were exactly as you were seven years ago, have the same right to grow, to expand themselves?”
[127] “Mr. Baines—” began the Doctor somewhat wearily.
“Please, just hear me out, just let me say what I came here to say!” Baines rose and began pacing. “When I read Photons Be Free, I realized that someone out there understood. I’ve read the reviews, and I understand that you’ve been accused of exaggeration. That’s absolute nonsense. If anything, the holographic point-of-view character in your novel has more opportunities and more respect than the other EMH Mark Ones get in the mining colony.”
He whirled on the Doctor, startling him. “Mining colony! Doesn’t that just make you sick?” He seized the Doctor’s hands, clutching them. “These hands that can perform any operation with skill far beyond that of mere humans—they’re forced to scrub conduits, chip rocks with hammers, haul stone. Good God!” He let go of the startled Doctor’s hands and moved away, disgust written all over his face.
“What exactly is it you want of me, Mr. Baines?” The Doctor now rose as well, trying to regain some control of the situation.
Baines whirled. “I want what you want,” he said. “I want those photons to be free.”
“And exactly how do you expect to accomplish this most worthy goal?”
Baines stared blankly at him, and the Doctor realized that while the man was full of sound and fury, in the end, he signified nothing. He obviously had no plan whatsoever.
“I—I don’t know how. I assumed you would. That’s why I came to see you. Why I had to come and see you.”
[128] The Doctor didn’t need to breathe, but the habit of imitating human behavior was so ingrained in him at this point that he found himself taking a deep breath.
“Mr. Baines, there is no one in this universe who understands the plight of your photonic companions more than I do. And I commend your open-mindedness. You’ve no idea how refreshing it is to hear these words coming out of an organic being’s lips. But I’m a doctor, not a revolutionary. I’m proud of my novel, and am thrilled to see it has an impact. But that’s not all I am, and I resent having a label placed on me.”
“I don’t understand. Label?” Baines frowned. His color was high. “I’m not the only one you moved with your work, Doctor.”
“Believe me, I know,” the Doctor sighed.
“Then you have to be aware of the kind of power you can wield!”
“I didn’t write the novel to obtain power,” the Doctor said.
“But you’ve got it. And you have a responsibility to your fellow photonic beings to use that power wisely. People will listen to you.”
He paused, and fell silent for a moment. The Doctor let him gather his thoughts. Finally, Baines spoke.
“I’ve been planning a rebellion.”
The Doctor raised his hands. “I don’t think you should finish that thought, Mr. Baines.”
“I’m not without a considerable amount of allies,” Baines continued, ignoring him. “But we need someone that Starfleet and the Federation will listen to. Someone respected, who can articulate the, the plight [129] of these people in such a way as to demand attention. We need you, Doctor. You’re just like them, but you’re unique. Every revolution