String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [13]
“That’s it…” he resolved, allowing the mischievous demons that had ruled so much of his life to once again wrestle his better angels into submission, “… there will be plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead.”
Rising from his bed, he considered dressing and heading down to the mess hall to see what frightening dish Neelix had managed to concoct from hydroponic vegetables and his favorite staple, leola roots. But his stomach rebelled at the thought. He had been saving replicator rations for days, planning to surprise B’Elanna the next chance he had with breakfast in bed: banana pancakes for two, a dish she had told him was one of her childhood favorites, but which she had been strangely reluctant to order for herself lately. Doing a little quick math in his head, he rationalized that if he was willing to forgo breakfast for himself for the next few days, he could still surprise B’Elanna and manage to indulge himself a little right now.
Standing over the replicator, he opted for one of his guiltiest pleasures, “Two slices of pepperoni pizza… cold.” Moments later, seated comfortably in an armchair and savoring every single bite, he searched through his personal padds until he found the one that had most recently captured his imagination.
The padd in question contained everything in the ship’s database concerning a series of stories created on Earth in the twentieth century. They were known as “serials,” and were usually long and involved action-adventure pieces that chronicled in brief installments the exploits of larger-than-life heroes, their faithful sidekicks, and maniacal madmen bent on destroying the world. Each segment, or “chapter,” invariably ended with the hero and his friends trapped in circumstances that could result only in certain death. But week after week, the heroes managed to survive, rescue the beautiful girl, and foil the evil villain.
Tom had spent most of what little free time he’d had of late searching for the perfect serial to adapt into his next holodeck program. He had already received assurances from Harry that he would grudgingly participate, and if he could drag B’Elanna away from the Klingon martial-arts programs that she had recently begun to fill her free time with, he was certain his efforts would be rewarded with hours of fun for all three of them.
But which one, he wondered to himself, until his gaze fell upon one file on the list he hadn’t had time to open yet. Smiling to himself, he read aloud, “Captain Proton, Space Man First Class, Protector of Earth, and Scourge of Intergalactic Evil.”
His amusement turned to full-blown glee as he began the first installment of the series, Captain Proton and Chaotica’s Ray of Doom. Captain Proton was, of course, the hero, his best friend a reporter called Buster Kincaid. But his joy was not complete until he had seen the description of Proton’s secretary, the voluptuous Constance Goodheart, who often found herself embroiled in the direst of circumstances while wearing little more than a cocktail dress.
“It’s perfect,” he said, rising to change into his uniform. The moment he reached his combadge he activated it: “Paris to Kim.”
He hardly noticed as he was dressing that he got no response.
The sensors aboard Tuvok’s shuttle were nowhere near as sophisticated as those aboard Voyager, but all he needed was his bare eyes to know that the object he was approaching as quickly as full impulse would allow was both extraordinary and unique. The massive ring that spun slowly around the singularity he had used to set his course was so much larger than any space station ever constructed by the Federation. Even at this distance, the sensors