The Farther Shore - Christie Golden [11]
“If they weren’t kids, I’d like to bloody a nose myself,” said Tom.
“That’s enough of that line of talk!” Janeway snapped. “There’s a holographic uprising that was clearly inspired by the Doctor. Starfleet is right to assume he had at least a modicum of involvement. There’s a Borg virus spreading across the Earth coinciding with our arrival home. Starfleet is right to investigate to see if there’s any connection. It’s how they’re going about it that I don’t like. We’ll do what we can, but we are all sworn Starfleet officers. Now. We’ll just have to see if Data is willing to help us, and wait until [32] he arrives. If we have him on our side in time, that’s a huge step forward.”
“And if we don’t?” asked Chakotay.
For just a fraction of an instant, she hesitated. What would they do? She didn’t know. There had been many moments like this in her life, where she had absolutely no idea what to do next. But one thing she did know was that eventually, solutions would present themselves if she trusted that they’d come.
“We think of something else,” she said simply.
It was late—or early, depending how you looked at it—when Harry Kim returned to his apartment. He wanted badly to talk to Libby, but she had been asleep for hours at this point. He was angry and frustrated. He felt helpless to do anything useful, and it chafed.
He and Tom had returned to Tom’s apartment for a while, talking, after Janeway had dismissed them. They’d said a few dark things he supposed they didn’t really mean about “Data’s duties” and drunk a beer or two, then Harry had said goodnight. Tom looked as though he didn’t want Harry to leave, and Harry supposed he knew why. Without Miral or the Doctor in the apartment, the place felt dreadfully empty.
He was surprised to see a light blinking on his computer at this hour. Probably Tom, he thought. “Computer, play message,” he said, shrugging out of his shirt.
He was surprised when no image appeared on the screen, and he heard no voice. For a moment, he thought that his computer must be damaged, but then he saw the old-fashioned text scrolling across the page. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he read.
[33]You will not be able to trace this message so please do not try. I am a friend. I am sending you this missive to warn you about a threat to humanity itself. There is a Borg virus spreading across the globe. Starfleet is attempting to keep this quiet so as not to cause widespread panic, but certain people in the Federation itself are responsible for the virus. There is a conspiracy. You must take steps, but as secretly as you can. Be safe.
Kim didn’t try to trace it. Any message sent in this fashion would be so heavily encrypted that it would be virtually impossible to trace. He also knew that only a handful of people had been briefed about the Borg virus, so whoever his mysterious contact was, he was for real. He couldn’t believe that the Federation itself was involved, though. Why? How? Who?
He downloaded the data onto a padd and contacted Janeway. When he read her the message, he could see the color literally drain from her face. In a detached part of his brain, he marveled at the image; he’d always thought that a cliché.
“Thank you for that information, Mr. Kim. Do you have any idea who this person or persons might be, and why they decided to contact you?”
“Not at all, Admiral. The statement ‘I am a friend’ can’t be literal. I don’t know anyone who’d have connections like that.”
Janeway leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her tired eyes. “I wonder what steps your friend expects us to take. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re somewhat persona non grata these days.” The last words were harsher than Harry might have expected from her, but he thought he understood.
[34] Janeway had worked so hard to bring them all home, and she had mostly succeeded. A few friends had fallen in the Delta Quadrant, but Janeway had gotten her ship and most of its crew back where they belonged. Except it felt as though they didn