Chapter 3 Homecoming

The New Borg are slowly revealed

Started in "Chapter 1: Bitter Pill" 
Continued from "Chapter 2: All's fare" 

Feles offered her hand. "Now. While I'm vulnerable."

"What?" I pulled away, stood up. Invade her mind while she was hurt? "No. You're injured."

"But your safety is assured," Feles said, wincing as she climbed into the chair. "The abusive ways—not trained. Focus—require focus."

I couldn't proceed, not like that. "And your safety?"

"Collective behind me." She smoothed her clothes and offered her hand. "Join me; experience their work. What you can expect."

I slipped back in the pilot's chair, setting off a tremor in my back, where I'd pulled a muscle. I gripped my medicine with hands not up to the task. Roger's chemical weapons had compromised Tresk's medicine. Would another dose cross the line? I put my hand over her knuckles. "Just rest. I'll get you home."

She shook her head. "My home is everywhere." Silvered eyes reflected the colors of the room.

Their beauty encrypted any message in their depths—-I dared to hope she might be hailing me. "I don't understand."

She shrugged. "Our faces are less expressive. To know me, touch my mind."

Mind meld with a Borg. To assimilate? Even without nanites, that seemed—too much. I shivered and focused on my piloting.

"I understand your concern." She stepped over me and put her warm hand over my shoulder—in a holding pattern.

My shoulders craved her touch. I looked up at her.

"I want to offer comfort in that way. But, without invitation, to recklessly invade?" She shook her head.

"Don't you control it?"

She sat back down and nodded. "Not completely. You could pull me in."

"I would never—"

"Not consciously. But—even now. Can't you feel yourself trying?"

I couldn't, per se, as I looked into her eyes. Yes I ached—calling, pining—lungs burning for breath. That's not kidnapping. Instead of demanding, 'What are you on about?" I fished a flask out of hiding—whiskey, Aldebaran style, brewed and bottled by Jellek: Denobul-Aldebaran. Treacherous comfort. "You look like you could use a bit of this yourself."

She chuckled, sadly. "My people prefer spirits to alcohol—pun intended. Even before the—" She pointed at her Borg prosthetic.

"Rather human, you don't mind my saying." Why did everybody bother so much about human things? I downed a sip and shrugged. "Who are your people?"

Feles squirmed. "That is a very probing question."

"I didn't mean to—"

"But you—had good reason." She looked down at the floor, eyes glistening a bit. "Always, we are faced with this."

I touched her shoulder, and felt a yearning for greater closeness. "That bad?"

A forced, reluctant nod. "Not always were we the good people." She shivered.

The cold I felt–the chill–was not environmental; Feles felt unnerved. "You're not your history."

"There is—" She white-knuckled the desk. "Nothing worse than coercion. Nothing worse than civilizing without permission."

"Humans have had their moments. We could have been the Borg."

Her eyes flashed.

A wave of adrenaline chilled me. I settled back into my seat, and faced the controls. "We don't have to talk, if you're not comfortable." Was it the madness? Or had Feles spoken direct to me?

"Could we touch minds? I could better lend you strength." She leaned forward. "Humans are like us, not meant to be so isolated."

"I can't lie." I raised my hand in the air, like a Vulcan salute. "I wanna say I wouldn't welcome that."

She mimicked my gesture, then docked her palm with mine.

I could hear voices. Not lockstep, like a Borg chant, nor either cacophonous. Synchronous. Symphonic, like an aviary, like a mass of jazz musicians.

Not the march of an army, it echoed the babbling of a brook, each molecule acting freely.

In that moment I had to doubt that the Founder madness had any substance. Perhaps the entire disease depended on simple gaslighting. Or perhaps, I took courage from the song of the aviary.

"Not in fascist coordination," Feles whispered, "But in seeing, and being seen. That is the great power of the link."

I thought of the changeling bond; natural assimilation. I pulled away.

"I misspoke."

I didn't even know whether to think of her as a Borg or a Founder. Either way, this potential villain was a woman. "No, Feles—you're right. For all that, you are absolutely right."

She offered her hand again.

Roger's quip returned in force–he called her Mephisto–Mephistopheles. His clients wanted her dead like some devil from ancient times. Were they wrong? I looked away.

***

As we parted ways, Feles had been gracefully disappointed. I did keep her contact information–her touch had bolstered me against the Founder disease. In all, I had had a good day until I saw the doorway to my house.

Somebody had been there. I ran up and slammed the door trigger. Unlocked.

Molly lay shivering, a phaser burn on her shirt.

I dropped my lunch and fell upon her.

Her breath juddered.

I activated my communicator— "Contact Feles."

The ship's computer responded, "Unable to comply."

Life slipped from Molly. I reached in my pocket and took out the wafer. It would save her, but at what cost? "Wake up, Molly."

I had to slip her the wafer. We could reverse assimilation, but death? No. Molly's life didn't belong to me. "I can sell you my soul. My soul for Molly's life." I took the wafer.

In seconds, the aviary song uplifted me. My vision came into focus; my fingers settled.

I took Molly's hand, but could not find her spirit the way Feles had done. "Damn you. Sold you my soul; you help her."

Feles appeared behind me, in the collective, with another. "This doctor can help."

"But he's not here." Tears dripped on Molly's shirt.

"He can be. Let him commandeer your hands."

I pulled the doctor into me as I had Feles. He raised Molly's head, tapped at several nerves.

Molly squirmed and turned still paler, but—I knew—my daughter had begun to fight.

Feles whispered in our ear, "Keep her strong. I'll be there."

We hovered over Molly for half an hour, pestering her before Feles arrived.

In seconds she had Moly restored.

I took back my hands and tuned out the aviary.

I looked with anger at Feles.

She frowned. "I'm sorry that this had to happen."

Had to happen? I cut at the air with the precision of a surgeon holding a scalpel. "You're telling me you didn't want me assimilated."

"And you would. In your own time."

I clawed through my hair. "Thank you for not making me assimilate her."

"We come to the collective in our own time. No need for force."

I grabbed her in a hug, embracing the music of the collective. "It's just a lot."

"You are so Federation—ready to separate the crime from the bystander."

"That is a good way to describe forgiveness." I shrugged out of the hug. "I'm not sure that's all that is going on."

Behind her wooden, alien smile I detected a hint of knowing warmth.

***

"Where is my Borg friend?"

I hadn't been that distant had I? "I'm trying to get us into a haven."

"You're my 'Borg Dad.' Talking about the hot girl."

Hopefully she's watching herself. I"Feles is looking for people to help."

"You're not worried about your girlfriend?"

Feles frightened me, going about. We had to move due to knowing her. I only hoped for a permanent home. "She is not my girlfriend."

"You don't convert to Borg for just friends, Dad."

"I seem to remember that I became a Borg for my daughter." I reached down to tickle her.

She dodged my ambush with a wicked grin. "Oh, am I getting a sister?"

The idea didn't seem half bad—if I could find a safe place for a family. "Who says I'm gonna need you?"

"Too bad you're stuck with me." She laughed and stole some of my popcorn.

Just as she did I saw it—the telltale sign of a haven entrance. "Found it."

Moly's face fell. "We can't leave Feles."

"We're not like that." She had never known the Federation; she would see. "They'll take us."

Molly put her hand over my knuckles, like I was the foolish child.

Like Feles said—they took our government, not our ideals. I patted her hand. "You'll see."

***

Feles groaned at the runabout readings. "It doesn't look like anything."

"it's not a starbase," I said, setting the ship to drift into position. "They're in hiding."

"It could be a trap. The radiation would make it impossible for us to restart."

I took Feles' knuckles in my palm. "They have to be very careful."

"Papa here knows what he's doing." Molly smiled. "Plus if we get in trouble you can use Borg radio."

I snorted a laugh.

Feles' smile looked pained, but radiated warmth. "She's got us there."

Feles gave the countersign. A cartoon Ferengi appeared for a moment on screen warning us of the fees for retrieving a runabout.

Then that too faded, and the lights with it. For the better part of an hour we drifted. The air grew stale. Molly started to cough.

"I'm rebooting this ship." Feles went to the panel.

This had to be part of the plan. I waved her off.

Just then the tingling of a transporter lock hit my forearms and a fountain appeared around us.

Three officers in red shirts, phasers drawn and aimed at us, appeared in front of Molly.

Feles and I breathed a sigh of relief and raised our hands.

A woman in yellow reached for the phasers we had brought.

"We don't actually need Borg," the woman in yellow hissed.

"We're not here to assimilate."

Feles elbowed me. "We do provide access to the collective."

The security chief's stance softened.

"We're not the Borg of olden times," I said, massaging my shoulder where the woman had bumped me aside.

She nodded. "You can understand our care. This woman here—her people invented the Borg collective."

I saw no denial in Feles' eyes. "I did not know."

"Apparently her people grew tired of their Tamerrans' individualistic ways, so they 'upgraded' Tamerran wetware."

Feles gritted her teeth.

I took it as an admission. Ancient history didn't matter.

"There's no harm you can do here." She stowed her phaser. "Enjoy the room while we decide what to do with you."

The soldiers left, leading Molly with them.

Molly grabbed a tree.

"It's okay, Molly." I gestured for her to leave. "They won't harm us."

The leader addressed Molly. "You are free to roam, including visiting your–friends, here–as you see fit." She followed Molly out. "I'll get you something to eat."

It looked like the 'fountain' provided water for the complex. One could likely infect the entire populace with it. Fortunately I had no mind to do so.

Feles smiled. "We're in. Once they realize we aren't here to forcibly—" she looked at me in horror.

I stood over the water, my hands idly crumbling something.

"Stop, Darro. No!" She grabbed me and tried to pull me from the water. "What are you doing?"

I threw her off and continued to crumble the crackers in my hands, only beginning to guess what had happened.

"This isn't some game," Feles cried, running back at me and pulling at my arms.

Some of the crumbs–not the Assimilation wafers?—fell into the water. "I don't understand. Feles?."

"You're making a terrible mistake," she cried. "Help! You've got to stop him."

The security officer arrived and shot me in the hand.

I dropped the rest of the wafers in where they dissolved. Had they been deactivated?

"Isolate the fountain." The security head hit her communicator. "The water is compromised. Repeat, the water is compromised."

The comm responded: "Thank you Denise. Isolating now."

Several other security officers arrived to take us away, though they quickly released Feles.

Security chief Denise glared at Feles. "No forcible assimilation?"

"That's right," I said, frowning at my turncoat hands. "At least, that's what we believe."

"How convenient for you," Denise said, and turned to Feles as her men escorted me away. "You understand, we'll have to put you in the brig as well, until we sort this out."

Feles blushed green. "I don't have any answers for you. They told us we were above this."

Denise touched Feles' shoulder. "Thank you for the report. This could have been so much worse."

"You have to believe me," Feles' voice fairly begged. "I had no idea this could happen."

"I did." My hands had never been so precise; the doctor never left me. "I should have."

Feles looked at me with questioning eyes.

"Technology can be abused. Consent can be abused."

"But we respect autonomy now. The collective wouldn't." She groaned with the pain of betrayal. "How could they do this?"

The security chief sighed with understanding. "That's the price of freedom. Each person has to uphold the standard."

"When you see the chance to inoculate an entire haven." My hands moved like normal—they no longer had the intelligence of a surgeon. "I gave everything for one child."

Denise put her chin on Feles' shoulder beside me and whispered, "This might take a while. I can put you in the same cell."

I didn't need my eyes—or the Borg signal they kept blocking—to feel Feles' answer. "Save the extra room."

Feles smiled at me.

We were in a world of trouble and had caused more than our fair share. But the Federation had their way of solving bigger glitches than this. Even if they never forgave us, we were home.

"I know it's a terrible first day," Denise said, "but you made it. Welcome home."

"Don't suppose the coffee is hot?"

Denise chuckled and pushed me forward. "We've got a little problem with the water right now."

"I heard. Don't suppose you'd like some help with that?"