String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [29]
She had chosen to assume a form that Janeway would find comforting and familiar. Having never had a “sister,” she had not anticipated that the depth of affection she knew that Janeway and the real Phoebe shared would be mitigated by so many other powerful conflicting emotions. Seeing Kathryn through Phoebe’s eyes, she realized that despite the similarity in their outward appearances, their respective temperaments were markedly different.
Searching through the catalogue of memories she had lifted from Janeway’s mind, she found a tactic that might be more suited to her immediate needs.
“Why don’t you let me help you?” Phoebe asked.
Janeway looked puzzled.
“Help me?” she said slowly, overenunciating each vowel and consonant sound. Crossing her arms defiantly she asked, “How do you propose to do that?”
“I don’t know. Tell me what’s going on and maybe I could…”
“Paint me a picture?” Janeway chided.
Phoebe allowed her face to fall, and smiled inwardly as she heard Janeway silently curse herself. It was a definite advantage that even while wearing a human form, she possessed the ability to understand all that Janeway said, whether aloud or in the privacy of her mind.
I’m snapping at everyone this morning, Janeway was thinking. Patience has never been one of my many virtues, but there’s no reason to take my frustrations out on the artist of the family.
Phoebe mused at how different two women who shared so much genetic history could be. Although Phoebe was a few years younger then Kathryn, the older they got the less noticeable this fact was. She knew from Janeway’s memories that others had often remarked at the striking similarities in their features: the deep blue eyes that turned a stormy gray when they were angry, the high forehead crowned by fine flowing auburn hair. But Phoebe had their mother’s full lips, and like Gretchen Janeway, smiled often. The two most significant women in Kathryn’s life shared the innate ability to find the humor in most of life’s challenges, whereas Kathryn, like her father, spent less time laughing about life than she did trying to conquer it.
“I’m sorry, Phoebe,” she sighed. “Tuvok left the ship several hours ago and he’s headed for some kind of alien space station that orbits and is powered by a singularity.”
“Tuvok? Your tactical officer? The Vulcan?”
“You’re asking like you’ve never met the man,” Janeway said.
“Of course,” Phoebe covered quickly. “I don’t mean which Tuvok. I mean, I can’t believe he would do something like that.”
“Neither can I,” Janeway replied.
“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.”
“I’m sorry, Kath.”
Phoebe opened her arms and saw Janeway’s eyes glistening with tears as she fell into the comfort of her sister’s embrace.
Much better, Phoebe thought.
Time to change the subject.
“You know I was talking to Master da Vinci, and he suggested I might go back to realism for a while,” Phoebe offered quietly.
“You couldn’t ask for a better mentor, Phoebe, even if he is a hologram,” Janeway said genuinely, disentangling herself from Phoebe’s arms while continuing to clasp her hands warmly.
“It was very thoughtful of you to create him for me,” Phoebe added.
I didn’t, Phoebe heard Kathryn think.
Phoebe paused. Janeway should be accepting everything she suggested without resistance. But to her relief, the captain didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she mentally chalked it up to the length of time since her last cup of coffee. She couldn’t imagine where this abrupt and ungenerous thought had come from and was only too relieved she hadn’t said it aloud.
“I actually came by looking for some inspiration,” Phoebe continued. Crossing to the small glass table where the Key rested, she paused over it.
“What’s this?” she asked as innocently as she could.
“That was a gift from the Monorhans. They called it the Key to…” Janeway’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember. “… something or other.”
“It doesn’t look like a key.”
“I know,” Janeway smiled, crossing to Phoebe. “I don’t think they meant it literally. I assumed it was