“There’s a lot of that going around,” Glenn said as she followed him into sickbay.
“Where is the music coming from?” Velth asked.
“This way,” Conlon said, leading them toward the private rooms.
When they reached the door from which the song was clearly emanating, Velth pounded on the door.
The music stopped abruptly.
Seconds later, the door slid open, revealing Lieutenant Kim. His face was red, and his eyes were glistening. As soon as he saw Velth’s face, his eyes hardened. Rage replaced the pain they had previously held.
“What do you want?” Kim demanded, taking note of Glenn and Conlon curiously.
“The music,” Velth said. “What is it?”
“ ‘Clair de Lune’?” Kim asked.
“No, what is it?” Velth asked again.
Kim was clearly at a loss. “It was written in the late nineteenth century by Claude Debussy. It’s a famous piece with both baroque and impressionistic influences. It was reworked several times before it was published, initially based on a piece of romantic poetry about taking a stroll and seeing birds take flight. Eventually it became part of a suite known as Bergamasque. Roughly translated it means ‘moonlight.’ ”
Velth began to shudder. “Please,” he said. “Please…”
Kim took a step back as Velth’s eyes darkened.
“He’s transitioning,” Conlon warned.
“Play it again, Harry,” Glenn said. “That’s an order.”
Kim reflexively lifted the clarinet to his lips and started to play. Velth stood motionless as the sound cascaded over him.
“Explain this,” Velth said simply.
Glenn moved to stand between him and Kim, who continued to play. “It’s called music,” she said. “It’s played on an instrument we call a clarinet. This particular piece was created by a human, one of us.”
“What is its purpose?” Velth asked.
“It has no practical purpose,” Glenn replied. “It is a thing of beauty. It is one of many ways we communicate feelings without words.”
“You create this?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“We understand its structure. Its expression is uncertain.”
“You’re saying it is a question that has no answer?” Glenn asked.
“And yet, it speaks to us,” Velth said.
“It speaks to us too,” Glenn said.
“You are builders,” Velth said.
“I don’t know what that means,” Glenn said.
“You are like us.”
“In some ways, yes. But in other ways, we are very different.”
“Builders define what is.”
“We, like all living species, grapple with our own existence, search for purpose and meaning, and are instruments of change,” Glenn said.
“This creation is beyond our capacity.”
“We have found many things in our travels that were, once, also beyond our capacity. That is part of our purpose. To learn new things.”
The song ended. Kim lowered his clarinet. “The basis for music is mathematical. Rhythms and tones are ordered in original ways to evoke emotion and transcend space and time. We build music to understand ourselves and where we fit within the universe.”
“Music as you define it is a bridge between what is and what cannot be expressed,” Velth said. “We would know more.”
“No,” Kim said.
Clearly taken aback by Kim’s refusal, Velth said, “Do you require more certainty?”
“No, we don’t. We require freedom.”
“You have not been limited.”
“Yes, we have,” Kim insisted. “You are limiting our existence. You are refusing to allow us to choose our own path. You want something from us, and you are taking it without our permission. You have given us no choice.
“We do not want to go with you. We do not want to explore beyond the barrier. We want to return to the company of those who were with us when you found our ship. We want to continue to explore on our own terms. We would welcome the chance to understand you better, but not like this.”
“Builders exist to call into being that which sustains life. Life must be extended beyond this place. You, alone among all builders, can help us create positive infinity.”
“Why?” Kim asked. “Why is it so damned important for you to move beyond the barrier?”
“This is the process by which we understand ourselves and our place in the universe.”
“Will you allow us to help you, but in a way that does not violate our rights as builders? Will you accept that we are your peers and not force us to do that which limits us and our existence?” Kim asked.
“All builders are architects of their own infinity,” Velth replied. “All builders live in a yellow submarine.”
Kim looked to Glenn, who was smiling sadly.
“I think we finally understand each other,” Glenn said.
Kim nodded.
“Bridge to Commander Glenn.”
“Go ahead, Ensign Drur.”
“We have incoming.”
“Who?”
“The entire fleet has just emerged from a slipstream corridor. They are moving to intercept us.”
“Tell them to hold position until we make further contact and to take no aggressive action.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Glenn placed a hand on Velth’s arm. “Do not harm them.”
“They, too, are builders?”
“Yes, they are.”
20
VOYAGER
Admiral Kathryn Janeway had seen more than her fair share of extraordinary days in the Delta Quadrant. Few of them compared to the last several.
The first hours following the fleet’s arrival in the Edrehmaia’s space had been spent in conversation with Commander Glenn and Lieutenant Kim, after which the transfer of supplies and personnel required to fully restore the Galen had begun. It would be the work of weeks but the relief on both sides buoyed the spirits of everyone involved.
Heartfelt reunions between crew members and officers were also proceeding apace. A celebratory feeling suffused the atmosphere. Many, including the admiral, marveled at the actions taken by Glenn’s crew, not the least of which was establishing the first meaningful exchange of ideas with the Edrehmaia.
The Edrehmaia had retreated, allowing the newly arrived ships to tend to their own. The interlocutor created when Devi Patel merged with the Edrehmaia substance had remained within the alcove aboard the Okinawa when the runabout was returned to Voyager and throughout its slipstream journey to the coordinates it had provided. Ensign Gwyn had remained with her and shortly after they arrived had suggested that Patel be released to join the Edrehmaia. Janeway had agreed but to her surprise, had received a counterproposal from Velth, who initially continued to serve as the primary
