Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [133]
Harry appeared as dumbfounded as Tom was to see him there.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said immediately, turning toward the door.
“Harry …” Tom attempted, hoping to try and bridge at least some of the palpable distance present whenever they were in the same room anymore.
“No, I must have misheard Nancy,” Harry cut him off.
“Oh,” Tom said, smiling sincerely. “You’ve got a date with Nancy ?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Lieutenant Conlon and I are working out,” he corrected him a little too forcefully. “Excuse me, Commander,” he added for good measure. When he reached the holodeck doors, they remained shut.
“Computer, unlock the door,” Harry commanded.
“Unable to comply.”
Tom’s concern level shot up a notch and he crossed to the holodeck control panel beside the door.
“Computer, on whose authority was this door locked?” Tom demanded.
“Overrides established by the supreme leader of the universe, the majestic and all-powerful Chaotica.”
Harry and Tom turned to one another, their faces mirroring each other’s confusion.
“Computer, Commander Thomas Paris orders you to override Chaotica’s orders,” Tom attempted. “Authorization epsilon beta nine six.”
“That security authorization has been disabled.”
“I bet they still haven’t got all of Admiral Batiste’s encrypted files out of the system,” Harry suggested, tapping the manual override on the control panel.
He was stilled in his work by a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw a monochromatic and inhospitable wasteland stretching over kilometers. In the distance, one of Chaotica’s many castles rose on a ridgeline.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Tom said.
“Greetings, mongrels,” the unmistakable voice of Chaotica boomed all around them.
Tom scanned the desert as the winds began to pick up around him and Harry.
“There,” Harry said, pointing to a train of attendants moving toward them. Soon enough Counselor Cambridge, bedecked in Chaotica’s fine, flowing robes and black headpiece, appeared. The counselor was riding a huge and fierce tusked animal that resembled an elephant but probably wasn’t anywhere near as docile. The creature came to rest ten meters from them and Cambridge descended from its back, stepping on the shoulders and then prostrate backs of his many armed servants.
“Welcome to the far end of the universe,” Cambridge said imperiously.
“Look, Counselor,” Tom said, stepping forward, “I don’t know what this is …”
“This is our first counseling session,” Cambridge replied. “For weeks your commanding officers and fellow crewmates have expressed concern about the state of your professional and personal relationship. Having reviewed your files thoroughly, I have selected the most appropriate counseling milieu based upon your respective levels of emotional maturity. This is not a simulation, gentlemen—my garish attire notwithstanding. The holodeck safeties have been turned off and you will not be allowed to leave this room until I am satisfied that you have both managed to resolve your present, petty differences.”
“I … protest!” Harry stammered.
“You may take that up with the captain when we’re done here,” Cambridge replied. “You have both been cleared from Voyager’s duty rosters until such time as I see fit to reinstate you.”
“I …” Harry began again.
“Forget it, Buster,” Tom replied. “There’s only one way out of this.”
“You are correct about one thing,” Cambridge interjected. “The only way out is through. You are not, however, addressing Buster Kincaid, faithful sidekick of Captain Proton, Mister Paris. For our purposes, you will not have access to any of their tools or equipment.” Cambridge waved a regal hand and in an instant, Tom and Harry’s uniforms were replaced with the black-and-white equivalent of rags. “You are both maggots … unnamed slaves … and like the rest of this world you will bow