Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [47]
But Harry knew himself well enough to admit that he would never have made it through dinner without betraying his anger and confusion. His mind understood, but his heart remained completely irrational on the subject. He couldn’t shake the thought that somewhere along the line, Tom had begun to define friendship differently from him. As much as he wanted to for B’Elanna and Miral’s sake, he didn’t think he could play the part that would be expected of him.
He stared again at his salmon. He was hungry. And the thought of taking a bite turned his stomach.
“Lieutenant Kim?” a voice interrupted his thoughts.
Looking up he saw Nancy Conlon standing beside the empty chair opposite him. The rest of the mess was all but deserted. Harry hadn’t gotten to know Nancy that well. He had held two tactical drills during which her engineers had performed like engineers, more concerned with their engines and ship’s weapons than their own safety. When he’d pointed out to Conlon where improvement was needed, she’d cheerfully agreed and promised to add it to her list of things to do. And she’d said it all with a smile you didn’t notice amid her otherwise rather plain features. Conlon wore her dark brown hair in a tight ponytail. When he looked at her, she was all big brown eyes with nothing to soften or frame them. And she had retained her Academy figure, though maybe she was just naturally petite.
“Lieutenant Kim?” she said again, a little more forcefully, pulling Harry into the present.
“Sorry,” Harry replied automatically. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Is this seat taken?”
“Go ahead,” Harry replied.
After a brief, uncomfortable silence she asked, “Something wrong with your salmon?”
“No,” he said, shoving the plate a few inches away. “I’m just not all that hungry.”
“Okay.”
After another short pause, Harry wondered if he was being rude.
“Help yourself, if you like,” he offered.
“Why not,” Conlon replied, reaching for the plate and his fork. After a few hearty mouthfuls she added, “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Harry said, moving to rise from his seat.
“Hang on,” she said between bites, thrusting a padd across the table at him. “I didn’t just come looking for you because I was hungry. Wait, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t know …” she said, flustered.
Despite his dark mood, Harry felt his mouth tilting toward a smile. He resumed his seat. “Slow down. Finish chewing. Swallow.”
As he gave these instructions Conlon matched her actions to his words. When she had finished he said, “Speak.”
“Yeah, one of these days I’m going to get around to table manners,” Conlon said sheepishly. “I’ve got a problem, and I’d like you to take a look at it.”
Harry dutifully picked up the padd and quickly absorbed its contents.
“Microfractures, eh?” he finally said with an air of a seasoned veteran.
Conlon considered him warily as she replied, “Uh-huh. And it’s not just Voyager’s benamite crystals. Every vessel in the fleet showed the same results after our last slipstream run. Granted, the last one was pretty long. But I’m pretty sure the point of having this nifty new drive is to be able to use it to cover as much distance as we want as often as we need to and unless I can find a way to fix this, that isn’t going to happen.”
Harry tossed the padd back to her and feeling better than he had all night said, “Problem solved.”
Conlon’s face betrayed utter incredulity.
“How?” she demanded.
“Are you finished eating?” Harry asked.
Conlon immediately dropped her fork. “If you’re serious, I am.”
“Let’s take a walk,” Harry replied.
Nancy followed