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“Someone was sophisticated enough to produce the energy wave that brought us down and is probably responsible for Voyager’s disappearance.”

Or destruction, came the grudging thought. B’Elanna rubbed her eyes and successfully resisted the urge to scream. While shouting at Seven would be satisfying, she knew it wouldn’t produce any useful results. Logic might, though. “The city we were heading toward is probably still hundreds of kilometers away. We’ll never get there without the shuttle.”

The tiny lines around the corners of Seven’s mouth turned downward—her version of a grimace—and she pointed at the sensor readout. “I have already shown you this,” she said. “Using the data collected before the sensors failed, I have determined that there is a ninety-two percent chance that the energy wave was centered not ten kilometers from here. We could walk there in a matter of hours.”

“Yes, you explained that,” B’Elanna relented. “What you haven’t explained is why we would want to go to the epicenter of the blast. What if it was a bomb? What if they were using nuclear weapons? Can your scans tell us that?”

Seven lowered her arm. “I cannot,” she said. “However, if the shock wave was the result of an atomic blast, you would be showing signs of radiation sickness by now.”

“Not with all the drugs the Doc pumped into me,” B’Elanna said, hoping it was true. “And you still haven’t answered the most important question! What could be there?”

“The device that affected Voyager,” Seven replied coolly. “She was not destroyed, but the energy from the blast somehow pushed the ship out of phase. It is the only possible explanation.”

“And I maintain that if we can get the shuttle off the ground, we can find the answers in space.”

“Our journey to and from the epicenter will require less than twelve hours if we leave now. Would the shuttle’s self-repair systems be able to finish their work before then?”

B’Elanna sighed resignedly. Seven had finally found the best argument: Even with both her and Seven working constantly, they would still have to wait for the shuttle’s automation to repair key systems. She clenched her hands and shut her eyes. I don’t want to go explore a mystery with you! she wanted to shout. I want to stay here and fix things! That’s what I do! “We don’t know what we’re going to find,” she finished weakly, the only other defense she could offer.

“Of course we don’t,” Seven said flatly. “But we may find our way back to Voyager. Or, at least, we may find a way to contact her.”

B’Elanna nodded, but deeply resented her acquiescence. She hated the fact that Seven could find a way around her argument. She hated it when Seven was right.

Too many things were happening at once.

“Captain,” Tuvok said. “The shields have dropped…”

“My hand!” Kim said with rising alarm. “Did anyone see what just happened to my hand?”

“Bridge, this is sickbay,” said Paris from the intercom. “Captain, the Doctor has just placed us under quarantine. And Ensign Grench, ma’am…I don’t know how to say this…” Janeway heard a staccato burst of small explosions in the bulkhead nearest the science station. A new set of alarms blared.

Another channel cut off Paris. “…Is the shuttlebay. The doors are shut, Captain, but Commander Chakotay just…I don’t know how to say this, but he blew himself out of the shuttle and shot himself across the bay to the airlock. I think he may have hurt himself and I don’t know what’s happened to the Monorhans…”

“Captain,” Ensign Knowles said about every ten seconds, “what’s our heading, ma’am? Where are we going? Which way, ma’am?”

Janeway’s head hurt worst than it ever had. Once, long ago when she was eight or nine years old, she had come down with some kind of flu, something her father had accidentally brought home with him from a mission that the usual decontam screenings hadn’t caught. She remembered lying in her bed for three days with the house automek constantly pinging at her, giving her such a headache that she could barely contain her rage. When she had finally been well enough that she could sit up, the first thing