The Farther Shore - Christie Golden [42]
[124] They walked away a few feet. “Well?” Montgomery demanded.
“Sir, are you forgetting your orders?”
“I never forget my orders. I sometimes change them, though. Like I’m doing right now, if you get my meaning.”
“Yes, sir, I do indeed, sir, but you were quite adamant when you spoke to us,” Ferguson said, wishing his voice wasn’t so quivery. “You said under no circumstances was anyone who had served on Voyager to be allowed admittance. You made it very clear what would happen if anyone did permit them to transport.”
“I’m glad I made myself clear then, and I hope I’m making myself very clear right now when I say, that’s an order, Ensign!”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” said Ferguson, scurrying back to his position behind the console. “Just one moment and—”
“What are you trying to do, Ensign? Are you bucking for yeoman? Time is of the essence!”
Ferguson felt sick. “It’s procedure, sir. Look, I’ve got him on the screen already. Commander Watson, I have Admiral Montgomery for you.” He stepped back quickly to allow Montgomery to see Watson on the small screen.
“Good morning, Admiral,” said Watson, a handsome black man whose hair was just starting to get sprinkled with gray. Watson always intimidated Ferguson. Then again, most people intimidated Ferguson. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“I’ve got seven people who need to board Voyager. Don’t give them any guff. Stay out of their way and let them do their job. That understood?”
[125] “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Dr. Kaz is going to be joining them shortly. The same applies to him.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’m going to be in some very important meetings for the next few days, and I’d appreciate not being disturbed. These folks know what they’re doing. The ensign here has been stammering protests and it’s worn me out. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you, Watson.”
“Understood, sir. No peeping.”
“Good. Montgomery out.” He turned and glared at Ferguson, who tried and largely failed not to cringe underneath that piercing gaze. “Now, transport these people immediately.”
Ferguson couldn’t do it fast enough. When the transporter whined and the seven people dematerialized, he heaved a huge sigh of relief and slumped against the console. It was far too busy a day for his liking.
Janeway didn’t miss the slight widening of Commander Watson’s eyes as he recognized her. She smiled, hoping to put him and the other two security guards in the room at ease.
“I know our appearance here is a bit unexpected, Commander Watson,” she said, and recalling Kaz’s comment added, “but desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“Indeed they do, Admiral Janeway,” Watson replied coolly. “If I hadn’t had it straight from Admiral Montgomery himself, I’m afraid I’d have to detain all of you until you were cleared.”
“Your thoroughness does you credit. But as the admiral said, we’ve got work to do.”
[126] She stepped lightly off the transporter and was heading out the door when Watson moved smoothly to block her way.
“I’m sorry, Admiral, but before I let you pass, I do need to know what you’re doing here.”
Her jaw tensed. “With all due respect, Commander, no, you don’t.”
She tried to move past him, but he blocked her way again.
“Commander Watson,” said Data, “what is your level of security clearance?”
“Level Beta,” he said.
“Is everyone on the ship cleared for that level?” Chakotay inquired, glancing at the other two guards present. Watson nodded once. “Good. Then you can tell him, Admiral.”
Janeway didn’t bat an eye. “We’re here to assist Starfleet in discovering a cure for the Borg virus. We’ve had more experience with the Borg than anyone on Earth, and the information in our databanks as well as our familiarity with their technology is an asset.”
Watson narrowed his eyes. He looked like he didn’t believe her. “Why didn’t Montgomery tell me that?”
The real reason “Montgomery” hadn’t said anything was because first, of course, it wasn’t really Montgomery but one of Baines