Strange New Worlds 2016 (35 page)

Her brow furrowed. “I can hook in a log at my private terminal for any activations
or remote work, but not any work done directly at the replicator terminals.” Torres
tapped a nearby console as she continued analyzing the problem, earning a perturbed
look from the Doctor. “Although I can manually include any assigned crew work.”

“That will have to suffice. In the meantime, I suggest that we offer up Lieutenant
Vorik’s story as the truth, more or less.”

Janeway’s right eyebrow arched. “A cover-up?”

“Unfortunately, I believe this to be the only way to draw out the attacker. And, perhaps,
this will prevent crew tensions from escalating further.”

Janeway gritted her teeth. “Do we have any better ideas?”

Andrews looked down. Chakotay reluctantly shook his head. Torres crossed her arms
and frowned.

“Fine. Tuvok, Andrews, notify security to keep on alert, but don’t draw any unnecessary
attention. Torres, please discreetly mention to Neelix at your next meal that the
‘malfunctions’ were the result of . . . let’s just say an anomaly.”

Torres rolled her eyes. “Heaven knows we run into enough of them.”

Chakotay smiled grimly. “Scuttlebutt outstrips the fastest ship?”

“It always has.”

“I assume you’ll want me to confirm your story as well.” He had forgotten that the
Doctor was there.

“That would be useful, yes.”

“Well, a cover-up isn’t exactly in my programming, but this is hardly the first time
I’ve had to stretch the boundaries of my subroutines.” The Doctor cracked his knuckles.
“Well, if it will contribute to the mental health of the crew, I’ll aid you in your
intrigue. I suppose this will give me a chance to test my acting skills.”

“No need to get fancy, Doctor. And,” she warned, “don’t pretend to know any details
we haven’t already given you.”

“I shall be the epitome of discretion.”

“Very good.” The captain turned back to the assemblage. “Everyone else, no need to
go out of your way to volunteer information. Just let word spread on its own. Don’t
make a big thing of it, especially if the truth is likely to come out in short order.
Dismissed.” As the other crew members left, Chakotay looked toward the captain, and
she nodded to indicate he was welcome to stay. The captain turned back to Tuvok. “I
hope you’re right about this. I don’t like it one bit.”

“Nor do I. Unfortunately, I do not have a better plan at this time.”

“I’ll be careful until we find the culprit. Thankfully, the truth has a way of coming
out on its own.”

“When I heard the story about the anomaly, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
I didn’t know if it was a genuine mistake or if you were trying to lure me into a
sense of confidence. I was happy with the results in any case: Despite this trial,
the crew seemed to come together. I don’t know about you, but it gave me the confidence
that I needed to trust we’d make it through further challenges.

“But I was still concerned about lingering doubts. I overheard several of the engineers
express surprise that the explosion had been written off so easily. I felt like I
should tie up my loose ends, but I was never quite sure how. Then . . . well, Seska.”

Tuvok understood immediately. Mere days after the investigation had been officially
halted, the traitorous engineer had been revealed as a Cardassian spy posing as a
Bajoran in order to infiltrate the Maquis. Shortly after her true heritage was revealed
she defected to the Kazon-Nistrim. She later lured
Voyager
into the trap that had marooned them and led to Suder’s tragic, but heroic, death
as well as her own end.

“I had never imagined Seska was a traitor, but her defection gave you the opportunity
you needed to close the case. Assuming I could convince you of a connection.”

Chakotay and Tuvok looked around Seska’s abandoned quarters.

“This is absolutely insane,” Chakotay said, defeated. “Seska was one of our strongest
allies.”

“It is true that she was very loyal to you in your days in the Maquis,” Tuvok acknowledged,
“but you must admit that she was not conducive in our efforts to unify the crew.”

“I don’t feel much like admitting anything right now, if you don’t mind,” Chakotay
said with strain in his voice. He walked over to her bed where a thin glass vase held
a fading Bajoran lilac. He cautiously lifted the flower.

“Hello, Tuvok.”

He whipped around to see Seska’s image on the display. “Prerecorded,” Tuvok noted.
Chakotay surmised it was programmed to respond to the flower being disturbed while
Tuvok was present.

“I was hoping you’d be the one to clean out my quarters if I had to bail out. I thought
I’d leave a little good-bye present to thank you for infiltrating the Maquis. Although
I suppose I’m one to talk,”
the image said, smiling.

A coffee cup overflowing with creamer whirled into existence in the replicator, this
time with a replicated firework sticking right out of the cup.

Chakotay thought quickly. “Computer, recycle the meal in the replicator!”

Just as the sparkler began to ignite, the computer obediently dissolved the cup and
sparkler back into nonexistence.

“Well, I hope I put my last replicator ration to good use.”
Seska grinned from the panel.
“Last time I’ll get to use that trick for a while. Just goes to show: I
f you aren’t willing to share your technology,”
she said, referring to the replicators she attempted to provide to the Kazon,
“then there’s all the more reason to use it against you.”
The smile faded from her face.
“Well, good-bye. Can’t say it’s been fun.”
The image disappeared.

“It would seem Seska did not learn from the ineffectiveness of her previous attempt
to use this method.”

Chakotay stared stunned where Seska’s image had been a moment ago. His voice was flat
as he spoke. “She’s never been very good at improvising explosives. Always preferred
her for other types of engineering.” He sighed. “Let’s get out of here.”

“So there you have it . . . the last record of my sins. I’m sorry, Tuvok. I know I’ve
been a disappointment, but I needed to clear my conscience. Have you ever heard of
a human book called
Les Misérables
? Very popular among the Maquis. I was reading it
in my confinement, and a turn of phrase struck me: ‘I could have lied, it is true,
have deceived you all. . . . It was sufficient for me to hold my peace, it is true,
and all would go on. You ask me what has forced me to speak? a very odd thing; my
conscience.’ Please give my apologies to the captain. To Commander Chakotay as well.
And most of all to you, Tuvok.”
Suder’s expression was unchanged, but his voice cracked as he spoke.
“I can’t truly justify what I’ve done. I only hope that I was able to use my violent
tendencies as a tool. I hope I had some small part in bringing the crew together.
I hope . . . I hope I helped in some way. That would make everything worth it.”
He looked off to the side as he thought a moment.
“Well, that’s it. Good-bye, Tuvok. I hope I get a chance to tell you this myself before
you find it. And I hope you make it back here to find it in the first place. End recording.”

As the recording ended, Tuvok and Janeway could not help but glance at the replicator,
but nothing was appearing.

“Computer, deactivate the replicator in Lieutenant Suder’s quarters,” Tuvok requested,
not wishing to live dangerously. A low hum and the dimming of lights indicated compliance.

Tuvok deactivated his force field; Janeway and Andrews followed suit a moment later.

“Well,” said Janeway. “I guess we have a lot to discuss.”

Captain Janeway sat in her ready room chair as Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Tuvok
stood nearby.

“Well, I suppose it explains a lot,” said Chakotay, who had just been filled in. “It
never sat quite right that Seska had arranged the explosions, even with everything
else she’d done.”

Tuvok spoke with concern. “I am a bit disturbed that this information never arose
in my work with Mister Suder, either in our mind-meld, or in my work with him after.”

Janeway nodded. “He was a troubled man. And remember that you weren’t in any condition
to absorb anything after that mind-meld,” she reassured. “I don’t think there’s any
need to concern yourself.”

“It was a difficult confession for him to make,” added Chakotay, “but he made it in
the end.”

All were silent for a moment.

“I must say,” added Tuvok, “Mister Suder’s plan may have been somewhat effective.”
Chakotay raised an eyebrow. Tuvok continued, “It did seem as though the crew was pulling
together in the wake of the attack. In combination with Seska’s betrayal, it gave
the crew common enemies.”

“Do you think Suder was right, then?” asked Chakotay. “Is an act of violence what
we actually needed to test if the crew could stand together?”

“No.” Janeway’s voice was unwavering. “We didn’t need Suder’s methods. This crew was
coming together long before his ill-conceived attempts to ‘help.’ It seems appropriate
that he quoted
Les Misérables
. Chakotay, have you read it?”

“I have to confess, it’s been a while. I don’t think that I could quote it.”

“Personally, I think Suder missed the point of the novel. Frankly, I think many of
the Maquis missed the point.”

“How so?”

“You named your ship after Jean Valjean, didn’t you?” Chakotay nodded. “But in
Les Misérables
, violence wasn’t the answer. It was absolutely futile. What happened to the insurgents?”

“They were slaughtered.”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. “To be fair, that may be more a matter of history than an
intended message.”

“The only way we were able to build something was by building trust. Suder was right
about that much. But that trust is built on respect, not on violence.” Janeway smiled.
“I like to think that was the message of the novel.”

Chakotay was happy to feel the mood lighten. “Be careful. You’re inviting some literary
debate. Just give me some time to brush up.”