The Farther Shore - Christie Golden [85]
Finally, Seven stopped and craned her neck to look at Janeway, who was directly behind her. Seven nodded and pointed downward. Janeway nodded to Montgomery, and the signal was passed down the line. Working as quietly as possible, they opened the panel and then drew back, expecting phaser fire. Nothing happened. Cautiously, Janeway bent to take a look.
It was all so ordinary. Here was an office that looked like any other: a chair, a desk, data storage units, carpet, padds scattered about, a half-empty coffee mug. She looked up at Seven and mouthed, Is anyone here?
Seven shook her fair head. Janeway maneuvered herself into position and with Montgomery’s help, dropped down onto the desk to land lightly in a crouching position.
The office was indeed empty, and yet the skin on Janeway’s neck prickled. Something was not right, but this was where they needed to be. Where was Covington? She helped the others down and they began to take readings, all moving with catlike softness. There appeared to be only one way into the room, an obvious [254] door. Janeway went to the control panel and locked it securely.
Finally, Tuvok, the last one out, dropped lightly to the desk and moved to replace the panel.
“So nice of you to drop in,” came a familiar, acerbic voice, and Janeway whirled to see the Doctor leveling a phaser at them.
Chapter 23
“DOC?” PARIS SPOKE FIRST. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s not our Doctor, Tom,” Janeway said calmly.
“Admiral Janeway is correct. I am Her Majesty’s personal doctor. The Royal Physician, you might say.” The phaser never wavered.
“Of course,” said Janeway. “She couldn’t become a Borg without surgery, and no human would be twisted enough to do it. It would utterly violate the Hippocratic oath and everything a real doctor holds dear.”
“I’m surprised that the queen would consent to be operated on by such an antiquated version,” said Chakotay. Contempt laced his words. Janeway was perplexed at his attitude, but didn’t bat an eye. He knew what he was doing.
Just like their own Doctor would, this EMH Mark One bridled at the insult.
[256] “How rude,” he said, “and how incorrect. I’ve done a magnificent job on her.”
He didn’t fire. He should have, but he didn’t. Suddenly Janeway understood why—he wanted them to see Covington, to praise his handiwork.
Now, too, Janeway understood what Chakotay was doing, and played along. “Not as good a job as the current version of the EMH would have done. You’re obsolete. You’re just a computer program that’s run its course. Oh, but silly me ... Covington wouldn’t have been able to get an up-to-date EMH to override its ethical subroutine.”
The hologram turned its full affronted attention to her. “You scoff now, but when you are brought before Her Majesty, then you’ll see. No one could have done a better job than I. There are no scars, all her implants are completely internal, her skin is—”
Janeway never got to learn what the queen’s skin was. While the EMH’s full attention was focused on Chakotay and Janeway, Paris, Montgomery, Seven, and Tuvok had slowly moved into position. Now, at Seven’s nod, they fired—not at the hologram, but at the rows of holographic emitters that ran along the baseboard near the carpeting. The hologram had enough time to realize what was happening and fix Janeway with a horrified stare before he disappeared.
“That was disconcerting,” said Paris.
“I really hate holograms,” said Montgomery.
“It was brilliant of her,” Seven said. “Only a hologram would be able to perform the surgery with the required skill level and a lack of scruples.”
“Look at this,” said Montgomery. There was a large [257] door on the south side of the room. It looked heavy, metallic, and very well secured, sharply at odds with the efficient stylishness of the room.
“That wasn’t here before,” said Chakotay.
“Correction,” said Tuvok. “It was always here, hidden behind a holographic disguise. When we destroyed the emitters, all the holograms in the room disappeared.”
Seven’s eyes were on the tricorder. “There