Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [50]
“Glad you asked. I’m trying to determine the levels of emotional response that you are currently capable of experiencing.”
“Oh,” Seven said, puzzled.
“This is going to go a lot quicker as soon as you decide to trust me a little.”
Seven considered the concept.
Trust.
“I do not trust you,” she finally realized.
“Obviously. And why should you? You don’t know me from Adam.”
“Adam?”
“A biblical reference. An archetypal figure that appears under various guises in many creation stories,” Cambridge explained, then paused to give the back of his head a vigorous scratch. “The point is, you and I haven’t known each other all that long and the only reason you are here is because Captain Eden has ordered you to.”
“Chakotay believes you can help me.”
“And do you trust Chakotay?”
Seven paused again.
“I used to,” she admitted. “We were separated for several months. Prior to that separation he behaved in an uncharacteristically unsympathetic manner, but he has been most helpful of late.”
“But do you trust him?”
“As much as I trust anyone,” Seven acknowledged.
“Did you trust the Borg?” Cambridge asked.
“When I was part of the Collective, trust was irrelevant.
XWe were joined in a common purpose.
We knew each other’s thoughts. Deception was impossible.”
“And is there a feeling or an emotional response you associate with that state?”
Seven searched her memory. In the silence of her mind it was almost a pleasant activity.
“Peace,” she finally said.
“Good.” Cambridge nodded. “And was that the last time you knew peace?”
“Yes,” Seven admitted.
“You’ve said that during the transformation, you were momentarily linked with the Caeliar gestalt. Was that also peaceful?”
“No,” Seven replied, shaking her head. “It was chaotic. It was powerful. But it went beyond peace.”
“In what way?”
“It was completion,” Seven replied, a little uncertainly.
“The end of something?”
“Yes,” Seven realized. “It was as if every question I had ever known was instantly answered. But still, there were possibilities, questions beyond any I had ever conceived, and a compelling desire to explore those questions.”
After a brief silence Cambridge asked, “Do you believe that the Caeliar are a superior species to the Borg and to humanity?”
“They are.”
“Really?”
“Their technology has advanced far beyond the Borg and humans. They have achieved harmony of thought and purpose without the need to reduce one another to mindless obedience. They are beyond superior. They are perfection.”
Cambridge sat back again and uncrossed his legs, resting his feet flat on the floor.
“Is perfection a good thing?” he finally asked.
“Obviously,” Seven retorted sharply.
“Interesting,” Cambridge said, tugging gently at his stubbly beard.
“You don’t agree?” Seven asked.
“Not at all,” he replied. “I can’t imagine anything more boring.” When Seven didn’t immediately contradict him, he went on, “Seriously, what do you do once you’re perfect. What’s the point of existence after that? It’s an extreme. It’s the end of the story. You can’t be more perfect than perfection. It’s a binary state. You are or you aren’t.”
“Isn’t perfection the goal to which all sentient beings aspire?” Seven asked.
“No,” Cambridge replied, “because most sentient beings recognize it as unattainable. Humanity aspires to achieve our fullest potential, realizing that for every individual the bar is going to be set according to their capabilities and their opportunities. There is no such thing as perfection in the sense of objective reality.”
Seven felt her cheeks growing warm.
“Do you find that concept troubling?” Cambridge asked more gently.
Seven was too quick to shake her head.
“And while the Caeliar gestalt might have felt like the epitome of achievement, at least for the part of you that was once Borg, I submit to you that what little the rest of us understand of the Caeliar paints a very different picture.”
“In what way?” Seven demanded, wondering on whose behalf she suddenly felt so insulted.
“They are xenophobic in the extreme. Their