Atonement (14 page)

The accomplishments of Bralt's people were impressive. They were also shortsighted and lacked sufficient diversity to sustain the population of those planets in the event that the markets for their limited produce fell or failed entirely.

The farmers on Femra, the first world Bralt had shown O'Donnell, were rich and growing richer every day. As an object lesson to his XO, Commander Atlee Fife, O'Donnell had asked if
Demeter
might visit a world to which the markets were currently not so kind. The overseer had grudgingly agreed and Fife's tour of Vitrum had opened the young officer's eyes to the pain a market-based economy could inflict on the unfortunate. Vitrum's people, once as prosperous as those on Femra, were barely
eking out an existence. The vast majority of the population was starving while their land, in desperate need of nutrients and repurposing, lay fallow.

Bralt had tried to convince O'Donnell and his crew that such privation encouraged the people of the Confederacy to strive daily to better themselves. Many of the inhabitants of Vitrum had accepted this pretty fiction. Bralt had opined that the residents of those worlds could not afford what they required to replenish their soil and make it fertile once again. O'Donnell had wondered what Bralt would do if he realized that entire planets, like Vitrum, could be returned to productive states within weeks using technology the Confederacy already possessed and at a fraction of the cost Bralt had estimated.

Toward that end, O'Donnell had offered to show Bralt the Ark Planet. This was a world more than ten thousand light-years from the First World, located in a region of space the Confederacy's ancestors had pulverized five centuries earlier. The wave forms, or “protectors,” they had used to destroy the planets whose resources they required had eventually rebelled when they came to appreciate the presence of life-forms on those planets. In an unprecedented act of defiance, the ancient protectors had begun to rescue the life-forms on planets targeted for destruction and relocate them to the Ark Planet. While their motives had been pure, their understanding of the basics of biology, ecology, and genetics had been sorely lacking.

When
Voyager
had answered a distress call from an ancient protector, they had found the Ark Planet on the verge of dying a most unnatural death. Too many species the protectors had transplanted were unable to survive in their current habitats, and much of the planet already refused to support any life apart from some very hearty fungi. Working with the protectors,
Voyager'
s and
Demeter
's crews had revived the planet, providing it with several necessary bacterial life-forms, relocating several populations to more suitable habitats, and terraforming otherwise uninhabitable continents.

During their relatively short journey, O'Donnell had shown
Bralt their initial scans of the Ark Planet. Now Bralt was forced to confront its miraculous renewal; a process that had taken O'Donnell's people all of six weeks.

Finally, Bralt sighed deeply and stepped away from the science station, focusing his attention on the bridge's main viewscreen, where the vibrant green-and-blue world spun beneath him.

“The protectors did
all
of this?” Bralt asked.

O'Donnell nodded. “There were, of course, some basic elements we provided to them: seeds, bacteria, annelids. And we directed their efforts. We told them where to plant, where to move the various populations, where to alter weather patterns, where to dig. But they performed the work. Given all they've learned, they can now sustain this planet indefinitely.”

“And you believe that our protectors could do the same?”

“They're the same technology, Overseer,” O'Donnell reminded him. “You've just never imagined using them in this manner.”

For reasons that completely elude me,
he did not say aloud.

“And there is no question that utilizing the protectors as we did here would require investments of time and energy precious and valuable to your people. But even if profit is your ultimate goal, small loans of resources to farmers as industrious as Izly and Cemt could be repaid in months.”

“With interest,” Bralt noted, smiling.

Resisting the urge to punch Bralt in the nose, O'Donnell continued, “And millions of acres that are currently unproductive could return to feeding the people of the Confederacy.” When Bralt did not respond, O'Donnell added, “You want your people to work, and they want desperately to contribute to the Confederacy. With the protectors' help, they could. They
will
.”

Bralt nodded thoughtfully. Turning back to O'Donnell, he said, “Commander, when you first proposed this journey, I was skeptical. And had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would scarce have believed it.”

I know
, O'Donnell thought.

“I am ready to return to the Confederacy. We have much to discuss, and I hope you will continue to offer us guidance,
should we choose to proceed along the path you have forged for us.”

“We'd be happy to,” O'Donnell assured him. Nodding to Fife he asked, “Is our return course plotted?”

Fife stood at the tactical station beside Lieutenant Url, his brow furrowed.

“Captain, long-range sensors show six ships approaching our position,” Fife said. “Two are Turei, two Devore. We can't identify the others yet.”

“I'm ready to go whenever you are, Atlee.”

“We can't engage the slipstream drive within the system. At full impulse we're half an hour from safe exit coordinates, and we don't have that much time.”

“Options?” O'Donnell asked.

“We could head for the system's star. If we modify our shields temporarily, we could hide near enough to survive the radiation and evade their sensors until they pass us by.”

“Have they detected us?” O'Donnell asked.

Fife did not respond, which meant he did not have an answer O'Donnell wanted to hear.

“You should call for the ancient ones,” Bralt suggested.

“The last time the ancient ones took control of our vessels, we barely survived our journey to the gateway,” Fife said. “We need to return to Vitrum, where the
Jroone
awaits us.”

“Ask them to hide you,” Bralt said.

“They can do that?” Fife asked.

“It is a standard defensive protocol among the CIF,” Bralt replied.

“Atlee,” O'Donnell began.

“Summoning a proctor, sir,” Fife said, nodding.

A few minutes later, Fife was hard at work dusting off his conversational skills. Given Doctor Sharak's unique facility with the visual “language” of the wave forms, he and Lieutenant Kim had taken point in most of the communication that had transpired between the Federation ships and the protectors during their work on the Ark Planet. Fife had observed them closely and was familiar with most of their standard protocols.

Four ancient proctors answered Fife's initial call. O'Donnell did not start to worry until Fife's second transmission resulted in the appearance of a sentry, one of the wave forms initially programmed to defend the space around the Ark Planet with deadly accuracy.

Fife continued to work diligently, however, and a few minutes later, a familiar hum tickled O'Donnell's spine.

“Our modified sentry is in place,” Fife reported.

“And we're still alive,” O'Donnell noted. “Well done.”

“Two of the alien ships will be within range in nine minutes, sir,” Url reported.

“In the meantime, perhaps you would join me in your mess hall, Commander?” Bralt suggested. “I am anxious to sample the berries and cream you told me about.”

O'Donnell looked to Fife, who shrugged. “The proctors say we're cloaked, sir,” he reported.

If they weren't, it would be Atlee's job to deal with
Demeter
's tactical response. Aboard
Demeter
, O'Donnell and Fife shared command, each taking charge as dictated by their respective strengths.

“I can think of worse last meals,” O'Donnell said, and gestured for Bralt to precede him to the bridge's exit. “Atlee, the bridge is yours.”

“Thank you, sir,” Fife replied, stepping down to the center seat.

Nine minutes later, the first vessels passed close enough to
Demeter
to read her hull markings without altering course or pausing to investigate. Four more followed in the next fifteen minutes.

Despite their newfound sense of security, long-range sensors continued to pick up additional ship movements through the system and Fife was forced to report to O'Donnell that it would be several hours at least before
Demeter
could safely return to the Confederacy.

STARSHIP GALEN

Lieutenant Reginald Barclay had made locating Meegan his only priority for months. Now that she had been found, he wanted to
shift his focus to separating the Seriareen consciousness that had taken his hologram from the original program. He knew that “Meegan” was lost forever. But that didn't mean that the technology he had created should be left to the alien who had stolen it.

He was now forced to set this aside until his friend the Doctor was functioning optimally again. He'd been analyzing the Doctor's program for more than a day and
optimal
remained elusive.

Barclay had been chastised in years past for his affinity for holograms. Once, he had preferred their company to flesh and blood people. Counselor Troi, in particular, had worked tirelessly with Reg to assist him in forming deeper relationships with his fellow officers, and he counted many of the
Enterprise
's and
Voyager
's crew as friends.

But his affection for the Doctor was not evidence of relapse. The Doctor was a unique hologram. Although his original program design had been widely disseminated for multiple applications throughout Starfleet, the Doctor's experiences in the Delta Quadrant during
Voyager
's maiden trek had allowed him to surpass his programming. Some of the alterations had been simple upgrades, but most were the result of constant interactions with the crew that gave him a deeper understanding of humanity than most holograms enjoyed. The Doctor was now much more than a collection of subroutines and processors. He was now a sentient being who just happened to exist as photonic energy rather than organic matter.

Barclay had been relieved to learn of Admiral Kathryn Janeway's rescue several hours earlier, but was surprised by her unheralded arrival at the
Galen
's holographic lab.

“Admiral,” he said, rising immediately to his feet.

“Hello, Reg,” she said, smiling.

“Admiral, I . . .” he began, but faltered. Finally, he found a sticking place for his courage, embracing her with unreserved happiness. “Forgive me.” She returned the gesture patiently.

“It's good to see you too, Reg. I'm due aboard the
Vesta
for a briefing but I wanted to check in. How is he?”

Barclay shook his head. “Hard to tell.”

“Did Doctor Zimmerman's modification to the Doctor's memory centers cause his cascade failure?” Janeway asked.

“I don't think so,” Barclay replied. “I'd run several diagnostics on the Doctor's program prior to the disruption Captain Chakotay witnessed and quite wisely interrupted. We might have lost the Doctor entirely if the captain hadn't shut his program down when he did.

“Now that I've read Doctor Z's file, the variances I found in those diagnostics make sense. They indicate that the new program was working as intended for the most part.”

“For the most part?” Janeway asked.

“The purpose of the modification was to mitigate the Doctor's emotional distress given Seven's new personal circumstances by ‘muting' the otherwise incredibly vivid memories of their shared experiences that were in his long-term memory files. Memories that produced intense emotional responses when accessed were segregated in a separate buffer. Any significant factual data was retained, but the memory could no longer be recalled in perfect detail. The Doctor wouldn't be able to replay or relive a segregated experience. At the same time, a program similar to an endorphin response was activated to ease any confusion the Doctor might experience by the ‘loss' of a specific memory.”

“The information contained in the memories remained intact, but they lost their impact,” Janeway clarified.

“Yes. But the segregated memory buffer did not function as intended. Any time the Doctor accessed a previously muted memory, he should have been able to grasp the facts, without the emotional relevance. But the volume of memories transferred to the buffer was greater than Doctor Zimmerman anticipated. It overloaded and the muted files degraded rapidly. Many have been lost entirely. Understand, the Doctor has countless memories of Seven, a lot of them mundane. There's no danger that he's going to forget who she is, and her medical files were not subject to the modification, so he hasn't lost any significant data in that respect.

“In addition, none of the Doctor's other subroutines were
impaired by the modifications. He was functioning normally. To anyone who knew him well, he might have seemed a little off, more abrupt than usual, but I think that's because he was unaware of the modification. He must have sensed the change, but had no control over it. It would have frightened him, were it not for the dopamine effect easing the transition. And from time to time, when he tried to access specific memories that had already been lost, other similar memories were randomly accessed, creating a sense of confusion.

“As best I can tell, he was managing whatever internal dissonance the modification created. His work on the catomic plague is evidence that he was capable of continuing to function. There was some minor corruption in his ethical subroutines, but that was created by several attempts to reach conclusions regarding moral judgments in the sudden absence of all relevant data.”