String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [67]
After walking for over five minutes in this way, he stubbed the toe of his boot against a panel that was embedded in the floor. Stepping back to examine it, he found himself on the border of a circular construct that was at least twenty meters in diameter and raised a little less than one meter off the floor.
Casting his beacon into the circle he saw suspended by invisible means a massive brownish sphere. It had been ripped open in several places, and from the direction of the tears that edged the gaping wounds it appeared that the rips had been directed from inside the sphere outward.
The sphere was made up of a fine, thin substance, almost like paper, though he suspected that it was sturdier than it looked. As he cautiously made his way around the sphere, he found himself imagining the possible composition of whatever it was that had emerged from it. Each vision was more chilling than the next, and once he had passed it, he broke into a run, refusing to pause until he reached the far side of the massive chamber.
He blew his way out of the room the same way he had entered and paused to catch his breath.
“Chakotay to Paris,” he panted.
“I’m right here, Commander,” Tom shouted, turning the corner at the far end of the hallway where Chakotay rested. For his part, Chakotay had never been so glad to see Tom Paris in his entire life.
Janeway stood beside Naomi, trying to absorb her words.
A monster in the mess hall?
Bending close to the child, she said softly and reassuringly, “You’re safe now. You don’t have to worry.”
“I know,” Naomi said, “but you have to believe me.”
Janeway paused. “Can you tell me what it looked like?” she finally asked.
An involuntary shudder coursed through Naomi as she closed her eyes and attempted the most accurate description she could muster.
“It was like water when it moves. It had arms, like an octopus. It was all arms. And it was clear. I mean, I could see it, but I could also see through it.”
Janeway’s head pounded. She had seen something similar, only once before.
“Thank you for reporting this to me, Naomi,” Janeway said seriously. “Now I want you to try and get some rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Naomi nodded dutifully.
Gesturing for Neelix and Ensign Wildman to resume their posts at Naomi’s bedside, Janeway entered the relative solitude of the Doctor’s office and turned his computer interface panel toward her. Her heart was in her throat as she pulled up the sensor logs from the mess hall at the time of the attack on Naomi. She was neither surprised nor relieved when the log showed that the only crewman present in the mess hall at that time was Phoebe Janeway.
Though everything Janeway believed to be true strained against it, she was forced to accept the possibility that her sister might not be what she appeared. There was only one way to be sure.
“Computer, activate the EMH,” she called.
“Please state the nature…” the Doctor began. Upon seeing her, however, he said, “Oh, it’s you again.”
“Yes,” Janeway retorted with as much patience as she could muster.
“I realize that I am only a program designed to serve your needs, but don’t you think it’s a little rude to deactivate someone midsentence?”
“I apologize,” Janeway managed through gritted teeth.
The Doctor paused, a faint flicker of alarm crossing his face. Though he hadn’t known the captain long, he seemed to sense that he would be taking his subroutines in his hands if he chose to antagonize her further.
“Well… thank you,” he said as genially as possible. “Do you require my