Homecoming - Christie Golden [53]
Juarez’s head whipped around. “What sort of information?”
“Work on my next holonovel,” the Doctor answered. “It’s a sequel to my first book. You might have heard of it—it’s called Photons Be Free.”
“I have indeed heard of it, Doctor, and it’s part of the reason we’re here. Do you recognize this man?” He handed him a holophotograph.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Indeed I do,” he said. “That’s Oliver Baines. He came to see me a few days ago.”
“What did you discuss?”
The Doctor hesitated. He didn’t want to get Baines into any trouble. After all, in theory, the man and he were comrades.
“We discussed my novel,” he said. Which was true. “I’ve apparently got quite the following.”
“Readers are one thing, fanatics are another,” Juarez said. He seemed about to say something else but Young interrupted.
“Sir, you’d better come take a look at this.”
Juarez went over to the computer. His brown eyes scanned it, and he frowned.
“Download it to the tricorder and then delete it from the computer,” he said.
[157] “Excuse me,” said the Doctor sharply, “that is private property.”
“Not when it deals with treason,” Juarez replied. “You’re under arrest, Doctor, for possible conspiracy in a holographic revolution. Your pal Baines has staged a Federation-wide strike of all sentient holograms. Things have come to a grinding halt, and it’s part of my job to get things up and running again.”
“What happened?” cried the Doctor.
“You’ll find out in time. Please put on your portable emitter and come with us.”
“If I refuse?” The Doctor didn’t know the finer points of Starfleet law, but he suspected that he was not being treated the same way that a flesh person would be. He didn’t think their actions were legal.
Juarez sighed. “That’s the trouble with you holograms, always getting above your programming. Let me put it to you this way. If you don’t accompany us voluntarily, we can download you and take you with us by force.”
The Doctor stared, shocked. He couldn’t believe it. He was a Starfleet officer! But Juarez looked like he meant what he said. Slowly, the Doctor reached for his portable emitter and put it on his arm.
It soon became apparent that there was much worse in store for Janeway and the other diners at Spanish Moss than having their dinners spoiled. There was a huge, milling throng of people at the transport station, and Janeway had to push her way through. Someone yelled at her, “Wait your turn!,” but she ignored Mm. She soon realized what the holdup was: There was no [158] one operating the transporters. The holograms whose duty it usually was were standing back from their stations, their arms folded, stubborn looks on their faces. First the restaurant and its building and staff, and now the transporter operators. How many holographic programs had Baines broken into?
She refused to allow herself to follow that train of thought and kept shoving through the crowd. She almost ran into one of the holograms and glared angrily at him. He glowered back at her.
“Are you doing this of your own free will or has your program been tampered with?” she asked.
He said airily, “You’re not going to find out.”
“If you’re striking voluntarily, you’ll be deleted or reprogrammed, you know,” she said.
“We accept our fate.”
Janeway sighed. “You know, this sort of thing is annoying enough when humans do it. Stand aside, then.”
For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to obey her. She drew herself up to her full height and gave him stare for stare. Slowly, he stepped back, and she slipped up to the transporter console.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” she cried, striving to be heard over the din. “Does anyone here have a familiarity with transporter systems?”
No one answered.
“All right, does anyone here want to learn?” No one moved; then Mark shoved his way through the crowd. Kathryn felt pride swell in her. He never let her down.
“It’s quite simple,” she told him, and gave him a crash course in how to program the transporter. He [159] followed her instructions