Kirk checked the maintenance readouts on the replicators. “Well, someone’s been eating something…this replicator was used three hours ago. Milk? Apple? One chocolate chip-cookie…”
Kirk’s heart skipped a beat.
McCoy beamed. “I know what that means, Jim. There’s a five-year-old boy on this ship, and there’s someone here taking care of him.”
“Someone let him eat only one cookie.” Kirk desperately wanted to believe McCoy was right.
McCoy squeezed his arm. “He’s here, Jim. I know it. Let’s go check sickbay.”
“I could perform surgery in here,” McCoy said approvingly.
If the bridge was partially squared away and the galley clean, then sickbay was immaculate.
Kirk immediately scanned the cramped medical facility looking for any sign of his child. Nothing. If Joseph were on the ship, he was somewhere else.
McCoy, however, already seemed to have found something of interest in a supply locker. Kirk looked over the doctor’s shoulder, saw medical supplies and standard instruments, but nothing that appeared to warrant the examination McCoy was giving them.
“Something in there?” Kirk made an effort to curb his impatience to continue the search for his son.
“Nothing’s missing,” McCoy said. “But it’s all been…rearranged.”
Kirk saw a flicker in McCoy’s eyes, as if he had just had an idea, but then censored himself.
“Bones…?” Kirk was about to tell him to say whatever was on his mind.
But McCoy narrowed his eyes, gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Someone’s watching us? Kirk covered and played along. “Where do you think we should look next?”
“Engineering.” McCoy limped toward the door, keeping his eyes resolutely focused straight ahead.
Kirk followed, almost hoping that his reading of the situation was correct. If someone were watching them, that someone could be the person guarding his son. Not a Reman, nor a believer in Joseph as the new Shinzon. Either of those would have taken Joseph off the ship.
McCoy paused in the corridor outside sickbay, then waved his cane forward. “Let’s take the turbolift.”
“I thought we were trying to keep a low profile.”
McCoy tapped his hip. “My leg won’t handle the ladders. Besides, if whoever’s on this ship hasn’t heard us yet, then there’s probably no one on board.”
Again, McCoy followed his words with a subtle shift of his eyes, and Kirk accepted that for whatever reason, he was simply to follow the doctor’s orders.
McCoy motioned him into the turbolift, then stepped in after him, staying as close to the doors as possible as they slid shut behind him. But as soon as the car began to move, McCoy spoke quickly and urgently. And what he said made sense.
“Jim, it’s Janeway’s EMH. He’s Joseph’s ghost. He’s the one who rearranged my sickbay. And from what I’ve read about him, I think it would be the simplest thing in the world for him to create a holographic illusion of a transporter effect to make it appear that Joseph had been beamed away. He’s the one taking care of Joseph!”
Kirk stared at McCoy, both angry and relieved by the doctor’s speculation. What was the Doctor doing on Calypso in the first place? And why wouldn’t he show himself now?
The turbolift car stopped.
McCoy’s reasoning reached its natural conclusion.
“Is Picard keeping secrets from you?”
The lift doors opened before Kirk could tell McCoy that he’d guessed right. But from the way McCoy turned away without waiting for his answer, Kirk was almost certain McCoy already knew the truth.
The engineering compartments were nothing like those on a starship. The warp core and engine components filled almost all available space and were accessible only by cat-walks and narrow ladders.
Kirk was like a man on fire, intent now on flushing out the captor of his son. But there was room for a dozen flesh-and-blood stowaways behind the power conduits and life-support regenerators. The steady rhythmic rush of the engines would preclude hearing any of their movements. And if the holographic doctor was able to duplicate the cloaking effect of a Starfleet isolation suit, then he could stand unseen only inches away.
There was only one place he and McCoy could converse privately and securely. “Let’s get back to the shuttle,” Kirk said loudly. “I think you’re right: Whoever was here is obviously gone.”
McCoy signaled his agreement, and they left the engineering compartments together. When they boarded the turbolift to return to deck four, they entered the lift more slowly than the last time so as not to cause suspicion, making room for an invisible passenger, just in case. They kept their conversation innocuous.
Ten more minutes, Kirk told himself as he and McCoy walked without hurrying toward the emergency airlock. Then they’d be in the shuttle, where he could work out the final, comprehensive strategy. Soon, Joseph, soon, he vowed.
And then, like so many of his plans on this tortuous voyage, that vow, too, became meaningless.
The Calypso rang with the sound of an airlock mating to its cargo door.
Intruders.
Again.
21
S.S. CALYPSO, STARDATE 57487.7
Picard stepped from Norinda’s orbital transport into the Calypso’s cargo bay, and resisted the impulse to shout Kirk’s name. He knew that to make the most of this opportunity, he had to let events unfold slowly. Somehow, he had to make certain that whatever happened, he ended up with at least ten minutes alone at the communications console on the bridge. He had to report to Janeway over a secure subspace channel, and then get word to Will Riker to have the Titan standing by to show support for the Tal Shiar.
Picard had had only a few minutes to discuss this in private with La Forge, and his engineer understood the need to report, and that a distraction would be in order.
La Forge stepped into the cargo bay, then rocked back and forth from one foot to the other. “The gravity alignment feels off,” he said with a tone of professional concern. “We should probably run an emergency diagnostic in engineering to be sure all systems are stable.” He turned to the young Romulan who had accompanied them. “Nran, I could use your help.”
Nran hesitated, looked to Norinda.
She shook her head with a smile. “Stay with me.”
With those three words, Nran was enthralled, and Picard knew the young man wouldn’t stray more than a few steps from Norinda for the duration of this visit.
“And I’ll stay with you,” Norinda said to Picard.
He nodded, already thinking of how he might arrange to be isolated on the bridge. Perhaps a decompression event?
“And you will stay with us,” Norinda told La Forge.
“This ship could lose power at any second,” La Forge said earnestly. “And if a propulsion system goes, we could drop out of orbit quick as that.” He snapped his fingers.
“If that should happen at this altitude, it won’t happen quickly. We’ll have more than enough time to return to my transport.” Norinda pointed ahead. “Considering what happened here yesterday, it is safer for us all to remain together. The bridge is that way.”
Picard thought it was most interesting that she knew the way. But then, he had also been surprised when she’d led them to the airlock chamber in which her transport was stored.
It was an Assessor’s vehicle, strictly limited to orbital flight and a passenger load no greater than nine. Yet Norinda had piloted it smoothly, and as far as Picard had been able to determine from his passenger seat, had not had to request clearance of any kind. He didn’t know if that was a sign of Assessor privilege, or a breakdown of Reman security. Then again, if all transgressions against the Romulan authorities were as strictly punished as Norinda had intimated, then perhaps strict oversight of Reman operations was not required.