Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [62]
"I understand, sir. I think my father feels very much the same." Mention of her father seemed to sober the admiral. "I imagine you haven't seen much of your father lately. I ran into him on Deep Space Four a few weeks ago. He's working very hard on the Cardassian situation. I'm sorry to say it's not looking good."
"He doesn't talk about it. But I know he's worried." Kathryn didn't want to talk about her father; it made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. She moved a bit in her chair, hoping Admiral Paris would pick up the cue and dismiss her.
But he seemed to want to talk. "Part of the problem is that we don't know much about the Cardassians. They've always been somewhat suspect, but of course we prefer to think they're people of their word. And they claim not to be interested in expanding their territory. But there've been some unexplained incidents near their borders that are a bit disconcerting."
"Yes, sir." What he wasn't saying was what no one wanted to say: the specter of war hung over the Federation.
It was a word everyone hoped had become obsolete, for there hadn't been armed conflict in the Federation for decades.
But in a distant part of space, a new enemy seemed to be stirring, and Starfleet's upper echelons were scrambling to try to avoid combat. Diplomatic endeavors were under way. But at the same time, Kathryn knew that strategic and tactical discussions were being held as well. She assumed her father was involved because of starship design, but she didn't know for certain. That was how far he had shut them out of his professional life.
Admiral Paris seemed to pick up on her reluctance to discuss the issue. He stood, offered her his hand, and dismissed her. "I believe your first step is to hand me a thesis proposal. I'll expect it on my desk by Monday morning at zero-eight-hundred. Understood?"
Kathryn felt the blood drain from her face. Hand in a thesis proposal in four days? Was he crazy? Even if she worked on nothing else she couldn't finish; and she had classes to attend and work for those courses and- "Understood, sir," she said crisply. And she gave him her most confident look. For suddenly she was on firm ground. Do the impossible? Meet an outrageous deadline? Solve an insoluble problem? If anyone could do it, she could. She'd show him. She wasn't afraid of him, she wouldn't be bullied by him, and no matter what task he set for her, she'd do it-better and faster than he'd expected.
Hadn't she been doing that all her life?
When she returned to her dorm room, her roommate, a beautiful, patrician woman from Boston, Lettie Garrett, had an uneasy look on her face. Kathryn noticed it immediately, because Lettie never looked uncomfortable. She seemed to be one of those people who were born with poise and moved serenely through life without mishap, taking in stride any bumps one might suffer along the way. She had long dark hair pulled off her face in the simplest of hairstyles, and huge dark eyes ringed with long lashes. Kathryn suspected she'd dated every available man at the Academy at one time or another. "Kathryn... what do you have planned this weekend?"
"This weekend? Staying up day and night to get a thesis proposal ready."
"Couldn't you take an hour or two off?"
"Lettie, what's going on?"
"I met someone I think you'd really like."
This was what Kathryn had suspected. Lettie couldn't understand her ascetic way of life and was forever trying to arrange dates for her. Kathryn had gone along with this several times, but nothing had ever seemed to work out; if a young man followed through and asked her out again, she began to feel pressed and rushed, and so retreated further into herself. There had been one young man-she couldn't even remember his name now-she had thought might be an interesting friend, but he had never called and after a day Kathryn had thought better of it and declined to call him. "Lettie, it's sweet of you, but this isn't the time. I have to have a proposal on Admiral Paris' desk Monday