Harry Kim crawled through the bowels of Voyager.
The Jeffries Tube clutched him like a fist. He pulled himself
forward inch by inch. Sweat covered his body and soaked his uniform. The toolkit
he pushed ahead of himself scraped harshly on the deckplates.
The voice of Belanna Torres suddenly filled the crawlspace.
"You there yet, Harry?"
"Just about," Harry said pantingly. "I think the next thing
we need to work on is getting some air conditioning in here."
He crawled up to the hatch he sought and paused to wipe his
brow. Then he released the clamps and opened the hatch. "Okay, Belanna," he
called out as he opened the tool kit. "I'm there."
In Engineering, Torres stood at the console, studying readouts.
In front of her, the intermix column was quiescent--the warp drive had been
shut off. "Good," she said to Harry. "Let's hope this works. That cracked conduit's
been out of commission for too long."
Harry reached into the open hatch and ran a plaser over the
conduit. Sealant jetted into the large crack. "Almost got it, Belanna."
He finished up. The beam cut off and he pulled the plaser
from the hole, setting it on the deck. He squatted back against the tube wall,
sweating profusely. "That should do it." He reached back into the hole and stroked
the newly-sealed crack, testing it. Pulled a tricorder from his belt and held
it toward the conduit. "Ready whenever you are, Belanna."
Torres walked to another instrument panel and began pressing
buttons. "Okay Harry. I'll start with a flow rate of 5%."
The intermix column began to slowly pulse.
Harry watched his tricorder. "Steady so far. Negligible stress
on the conduit."
Torres looked up briefly at the intermix column, then looked
back to her panel, pushing more buttons. "Increasing flow to 25%."
The intermix column pulsed more rapidly.
"Still green," said Harry.
"Great. 50%."
"Looking good."
"I'm taking it to 75%."
Suddenly the conduit ruptured. Neon green liquid spurted out
and doused Harry. He lurched back against the wall and rolled to the middle
of the tunnel, screaming and writhing in agony. Green liquid continued shooting
from the conduit.
"Harry?" Kim's screams leapt from the intercom. "Harry!" As
Kim's screams echoed in her ears, Torres feverishly punched buttons, shutting
off the intermix flow.
She looked away from the intermix column and hit her communicator,
cutting off Kim's screams. "Sickbay! Medical emergency! Computer! Lock onto
Ensign Kim and beam him directly to sickbay!" She slammed her hand angrily against
the control panel.
She turned and ran toward sickbay.
Torres paced the floor nervously, near the door. Nearby, Harry
lay on a diagnostic bed. The Doctor was working on him with a protoplaser.
Janeway entered, followed closely by Tom Paris. They stopped
beside Torres and watched the Doctor's ministrations.
"How is he?" Janeway asked.
Torres opened her mouth to reply, but the Doctor interrupted
her as he joined them. "Allow me to answer that, Captain. I'm afraid the prognosis
is not good."
"Let's hear it."
"Ensign Kim suffered extensive plasma burns. However, I was
able to adequately repair his skin."
"But?"
The Doctor looked back at Harry. "He absorbed a lethal dosage
of radiation. Microcellular therapy was unsuccessful..."
Paris interrupted. "How long, Doc?"
"I'm afraid Ensign Kim has only three days to live, at the
most."
They all turned and looked at Harry. He raised his head weakly,
returning their stares. "Captain..."
Paris put on a lighthearted face and strolled over to Harry's
bedside. His skin was pink and shiny. "Hey, Harry," Paris said gently, "if you
wanted a vacation, there are easier ways to go about it."
Harry managed a weak smile.
Janeway put a comforting hand on Kim's shoulder.
"Captain, I'm...." His eyes closed and his head slowly relaxed
back onto the bed.
The others looked to the Doctor, who scanned Harry with a
tricorder. "Don't worry, he is merely unconscious. Sleeping.
"Doctor," Janeway said, "are you absolutely certain there's
nothing you can do?"
"Captain, I assure you, I've--"
Janeway shook her head and waved him into silence. She rubbed
the bridge of her nose and massaged her eyes for a moment, looking troubled.
When she'd collected herself she turned to Torres. "How soon will you have the
engines back on line?"
"I've got a crew decontaminating the Jeffrey's tube now. When
that's done...."
Janeway and Torres turned and left Sickbay, still discussing
the matter.
Paris looked down at the sleeping Harry, looked briefly at
the Doctor, then followed the other two. He walked a few feet down the corridor,
then stopped and sank against the wall, his eyes wet.
A long, dimly lit hallway. Scorched walls, blackened, pocked
with holes. Debris littering the hallway. People rushed by in a frenzy of activity.
Harry lay along the wall, eyes closed. Slowly his eyes fluttered
open. He sat up and looked around, disoriented. Stood. Ran his hands over his
body, checking his health. He quickly backed out of the way as the hurrying
people jostled him as they passed. They paid him no attention.
A muffled explosion rocked the hallway, startling Harry. A
fine powder rained down from the ceiling, settling in his hair and on his uniform.
He coughed.
He looked in the direction the people were heading, then followed.
He came to a bend in the hallway, and a woman hurtled from around the corner,
colliding with him. They both staggered back.
"Whoa!" Harry grabbed at the woman's forearms to keep her
and himself from falling.
"Sorry about that," she said. She pulled back and studied
Kim's face, ran her eyes over his uniform. "Who are you? I've never seen you
before."
"Ensign Harry Kim." He extended his hand in greeting. She
stared at him warily for several long moments before taking it. "I'm Shara,"
she smiled.
Harry shuffled his feet nervously; she was very attractive.
"Uh, look, this is going to sound strange, but...Where am I? I have no idea
where I am."
"You're in the Citadel. In Capital City."
They both swayed and fought to keep their feet as another
explosion rocked the hallway.
"Capital of what?" Harry asked. "What planet is this?"
Shara's smile faded and she looked at him suspiciously. "It's
Galtran. What other planet is there?" Another explosion. "We'd better hurry
up and get below with the otehrs. But first, I need your help. Follow me."
She took Harry's hand and pulled him back the way he had come.
She led him into a room that was little more than a closet.
Shelves lined the walls. Various objects cluttered the shelves: large packs
with shoulder straps, small packs, tools, and dozens of other items.
She began grabbing packs from the shelves, throwing the straps
around her neck. "Grab everything you can carry."
Harry watched her rushing around, made no move to help. "Look,
I need some answers. What am I doing here, and how did I get here? Last thing
I remember is falling asleep in sickbay."
She held a pack out toward Harry and he reluctantly put the
strap around his neck. She began piling more stuff into his arms as they talked.
"Where's sickbay?" she asked.
"Back on Voyager."
"Voyager? What's that?"
"My starship."
Shara smirked at him. "Starship?!" She forcefully pressed
an item into his arms. "Listen: you look different, and you're dressed strangely,
but I'm not convinced you didn't sneak in here past the guards. You're very
cute, but no amount of charm or trickery will get you a place on the rocket,
so why are you bothering to try? The crew is already selected." She placed a
hand on his shoulder. "I'm truly sorry." She hurried from the room.
Harry stood looking after her, his arms full. "Am I dreaming
or...am I dead?"
He ran after her.
They walked as swiftly as their burdens would allow. Several
far-off explosions once again rocked the hallway. They passed an jagged hole
in the wall. Beyond was darkness, night. A field of tarmac stretched away toward
distant lights--possibly a city. Stars speckled the sky. High in the sky hung
a large white ball of light, with a tail of diffuse whiteness smeared across
the sky behind it.
Harry stopped and looked out the hole, eyes fastened on the
ball of light. "What's that? A meteor?"
"It's the third asteroid." She looked sidelong at him. "You
really don't know, do you?"
"I told you, I'm not from around here."
"Four day from now it's going to impact several thousand miles
to the west. The first two hit three days ago, on the other side of the planet.
Massive tidal waves, earthquakes, planet knocked off its axis--all that good
stuff. In a few days we won't be able to see the sun anymore. Too much dust."
She sighed. "Three more on the way. Galtran's doomed."
Bullets suddenly ricocheted off the wall near Harry. Both
of them quickly ducked back inside the hallway.
"Someone out there's seen us," she said.
She started walking, and Harry ran to catch up with her, nearly
dropping his burden.
"Who was shooting at us?" he asked. "And what's making all
those explosions?"
"The people out there don't want us to leave. They're angry
that we're abandoning them. But we can't all fit aboard the rocket. And anyway,
we won the lottery fair and square."
Harry shook his head, perplexed. Opened his mouth the second
man to Harry and Shara, "unless you want the same, I suggest you hand over your
indenti-tickets."
Harry set down the packs he carried and held out his hands.
"Look, you're making a mistake. We don't--"
The first man's finger tightened on the trigger. "No, you're
the one making a mistake. Now hand over--"
The second man suddenly fired at Shara. A beam of green energy
spat from the gun. Without thinking Harry leapt at her, knocked her out of the
way. The beam grazed him, sending waves of agony through his body. He hit the
ground and rolled to his feet, wishing he had a phaser.
There was a flash of light, and a phaser suddenly appeared
in Harry's outstretched hand. He looked momentarily shocked, but fired before
the men could react. The phaser beam was on wide-dispersal and hit both men
simultaneously. They fell to the ground.
Shara looked at the phaser in Kim's hand. "Did you kill them?"
Awash in agony, he said, "They're just stunned."
She put her arm around him, to help support him. "Where did
that weapon come from? And what is it? I've never seen its like."
"I- I don't know," Harry said in confusion. "I was just wishing
I had a phaser, and suddenly there it was."
She looked at the fallen men. "If they made it through the
guards at the gate, there could be others. Maybe they killed the guards. We'd
better get back to the Vault. Can you make it?"
Harry suddenly moaned and put his arm against the wall for
support. Pressed his other hand to forehead.
"What's wrong?" asked the woman. "The beam only grazed you;
you shouldn't be in this much pain."
"Don't know...I suddenly don't feel so great. Dizzy..." His
nerves felt aflame. He fell to the ground, and everything grew fuzzy...
Night shift in sickbay. The lights were dim. Harry lay on
the diagnostic bed, asleep. Face sweaty, skin pale. His eyes suddenly flew open.
He sat bolt upright. "Doctor!" he screamed, panic in his voice.
Tom Paris entered Sickbay and went over to Harry's bedside.
"Good morning, sleepy head. Thought I'd stop in and see if you were awake yet."
Harry groaned as he struggled to raise himself onto his elbows.
He still looked pale, but not quite as pale as he had earlier.
"Is it my imagination or do you look better?"
"The doctor says I've improved slightly."
Paris was astonished. "Really? But he said...."
"I know. Same prognosis, though. I haven't improved that much.
Tom! I had an incredible dream last night..."
Paris grinned. "Oh really? Did it involve anyone we know?"
"Not that kind of dream."
"But those are the best kind."
Harry ignored Paris' remark. "It was strange. I was on a planet
called Galtran. Asteroids were bombarding the planet, and from what I could
gather, a small group of people were preparing to leave in some kind of rocket.
The rest of the people weren't too happy about that and were trying to break
into the refuge. Anyway, it seemed so real, until the end when we were attacked.
I wished for a phaser and -boom- I had one. That's when I started to think maybe
I was dreaming, and...Except that I don't think it WAS a dream. I mean, it was
too vivid. Like I was really there, in another place. Sound, touch, smell ...everything.
It was like..." He searched for the right description. "...like being in a holodeck
fantasy. Except...."
"What are you saying, Harry? You think your dream was....what?"
"I don't know. Maybe I was somehow transported to a parallel
universe. Except the doctor says I haven't left
sickbay. I--"
They were interrupted by Paris' communicator.
Chakotay's voice said with slight sarcasm, "Mr. Paris, sorry
to trouble you, but you're a minute late."
"Sorry, Commander. Be right there. Paris out." He looked to
Harry. "Well, duty calls. Try not to have too much fun on your day off." He
touched Kim's arm, turned and headed toward the door.
As he passed the doctor's desk, the doctor called out,
"Mr. Paris, do you have a moment?"
Paris veered into the doctor's office. "Sure, doc. What is
it?"
"I thought you would be pleased to know that Mr. Kim has improved
slightly. The radiation in his body has lessened by 5%."
"Yeah, but he's still..." Paris swallowed. "He's still going
to die, right?"
"Yes, but--"
"Has he told you about his dream, doc?"
The Doctor nodded.
"What do you make of that? Is it possible he wasn't dreaming?"
"If you are suggesting, as he did, that perhaps he was transported
to somewhere else, then the answer is no.
According to the computer and the medical monitors, he never
left Voyager. The monitors do, however, show intense REM activity during the
time in question. In short, Mr. Paris, he had a very vivid dream."
Paris sighed. "Thanks, doc."
Paris turned and left sickbay.
Harry's eyes slowly opened. He lay in one corner of a dimly
lit room crowded with people. There was a low, steady hum of a dozen conversations.
A child somewhere in the room was crying. The air was hot and wet, and sweat
coated his body. He was naked, wrapped in a blanket. He propped himself up on
his elbows and looked down at himself. His skin was raw red, covered with burns.
And they hurt. He gritted his teeth.
He slowly became aware of Shara sitting beside him, watching
him with concern. "You've been unconscious for an entire day," she said softly.
"Thanks for saving me."
"Where are we?"
"In the Vault." His eyes told her that meant nothing to him,
so she continued, "Where we're staying until the ship is ready." She patted
the concrete wall behind her. "Heavily reinforced. They managed to break through
the perimeter, but they can't get to us in here. And they can't get at the ship
either."
"They?"
"The rest of the population. Those who won't survive the bombardment.
We can only save 1% of our people. The rest don't think that's fair, it should
be all or none, and....it's anarchy out there." She pointed beyond the walls.
"The other nine ships left last week. We'll launch the day after tomorrow and
rendezvous with them." She looked over the people in the Vault. "We're the last
group to leave. You really don't know any of this?"
"I told you I'm not from Galtran."
"That's impossible! But I'll bite. Where are you from, then?"
He laughed weakly. How could he tell her that as far as he
knew, he was dreaming? "You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
He opened his mouth to reply, but sudden pain made him moan
in agony. Every inch of his skin felt on fire. It passed as quickly as it had
began. If this was a dream, it was the most vivid, detailed one he'd ever had.
He panted heavily. "How bad is it?" he asked her.
She was leaning over him, rubbing some sort of oil on his
skin. "The man in the hall shot you with a plasma beam. It only grazed you,
but these burns are consistent with a full-on blast. Doctor Ovolos doesn't know
what to make of it. He says that--" Her voice choked. "I'm sorry. He says you're
going to die"
"Don't worry about it," he told her. "He's not the first doctor
to tell me that recently." He noticed a pendant hanging from her neck. He reached
out and caught it in his hand. There was a picture of a man on it. "Who's this?"
She jerked the pendant out of his hand and sat back against
the wall. "It's my husband. He--he looked a lot like you." She turned away from
him, trembling, beginning to cry.
Harry closed his eyes, feeling so weak. Sleep dragged him
down.
While he slept, he dreamed of voices and dim faces, half-glimpsed
through the haze of exhaustion. Captain Janeway conversing with the Doctor.
Tom Paris calling his name. Kes holding his hand, crying softly. And the Doctor,
appearing several times to scan him with a tricorder.
Then he was awakened by soft whispering voices, and the sound
of a child crying.
A leathery old man with wild, uncombed gray hair and sharp
eyes sat nearby, watching him.
Shara was slumped against Harry, sleeping.
"Good, you're awake," the old man said. "I'm Ovolos. Feel
like talking?"
"I hurt all over," Harry whispered. He looked down at his
naked arms. The skin was flame red, puffy with blisters.
"That's because you're dying, son," the man said in a sardonic
voice.
He looked down at Shara sleeping propped against his shoulder.
Looked around the large darkened room filled with adults and children wrapped
in blankets and hunkered on the floor and against the walls, likewise sleeping,
or whispering to each other in the darkness. "Why am I in here?" Harry asked.
"I thought only people who had been chosen to survive were in here."
"When Shara first brought you here, the guards tried to keep
you out," Ovolos explained. "But for some reason Shara's taken a liking to you.
She insisted. She can be quite stubborn, and after she told me your story I
convinced those in charge that it would be in our own best interest to have
you here."
He looked at Shara. "I didn't think she believed me."
Ovolos laughed. "She doesn't. She says you have kind eyes
and you remind her of her dead husband."
"But you believe me?"
"I can't afford not to. Maybe I'm being foolish, grasping
at straws, but... You say you're from a starship?"
Harry nodded. "Voyager."
"But how did you wind up on Galtran?"
"There was an accident," Harry said, swallowing as a wave
of nausea swept over him. "I'm...I'm in sickbay right now, dreaming this."
Ovolos laughed. "You think you're dreaming this? Oh, if only
this were a nightmare. But this starship of yours--I assume it travels among
the stars?"
Harry nodded.
"And how long does it take you to travel such distances?"
"Not long, five or so light-years in a week."
Ovolos reached into a sack beside him and pulled out a thick
spiral notebook. "The work of my lifetime," he said. Flipping through the book,
he showed Harry pages filled with equations and theories. "I'm on the verge
of formulating a way to travel like your Voyager, but it eludes me. Please,
can you help me? Help me to save my people!"
"What good would it do?" Harry asked. His breathing was labored.
"It's too late. You're leaving in a day or two."
"But it's not too late!" Ovolos said. "Once, long ago, we
ventured into space before politicians decided it wasn't worthwhile and turned
away from it. There's an abandoned base on one of our moons. Our ships are to
rendezvous there before heading across space to the Davlor system, where our
telescopes have revealed a habitable planet. We're going to be in suspended
animation for part of the 100-year journey. But if I can complete my theory,
we will use the moonbase and the moon's minerals to modify our ships to travel
faster than light. The journey to Davlor would take mere weeks, and we could
return here to salvage what's left of Galtran and its people. Your presence
here, and your knowledge, assuming you're telling the truth, gives us new options.
Now, son: am I just a foolish old man grasping at straws, or can you help me?"
Harry reached out, wincing with pain as his blisters were
stretched taut, and took Ovolos's notebook. He flipped through the page, giving
Ovolos's ideas a cursory glance. "This is brilliant work," he said. "You did
this on your own?"
Ovolos nodded. "You recognize it, then?"
"Some of it," Harry nodded. "Elementary warp theory, quantam
mechanics.....every Federation child learns this stuff in grade school--ooh."
He closed his eyes, struggling to stay conscious as a wave of pain swept over
his body.
Ovolos shook him gently. Harry opened his eyes.
"Will you help me finish it?" Ovolos asked.
Harry shook his head. "The Prime Directive prohibits...."
He closed his eyes again.
"You must help me!" Ovolos shouted.
But a searing white pain rose from Harry's core and washed
him away into darkness.
Harry groggily opened his eyes to find the Doctor leaning
over him, scanning him with a diagnostic tricorder.
"Doctor," Harry said through a sleep-dry, cottony mouth. "What's
wrong with me? I feel so hot."
"You have an extremely high fever, Mr. Kim," the Doctor replied.
"Oddly enough, however, your condition seems to be improving. The radiation
saturating your body has reduced by another 20%. I have no explanation."
"I-I was there again, Doc," Harry said weakly.
"There, Mr. Kim? There where?"
"The dream. The dream that's too real to be a dream."
"Ah, yes. Your radiation-induced delusion. Mr. Kim, I can
assure you you've been here the entire night. You--" The Doctor looked down
as the tricorder beeped. "Hmm. Most peculiar."
"What is it?"
"Your neurotransmitter levels have risen a hundred fold during
your sleep. That should not be."
"So what does it mean?"
"It means, Mr. Kim, that while you were sleeping you have
accumulated several hours of waking memories."
Janeway stood in front of the Doctor's desk. "What's your explanation
for his increased neurotransmitter levels?" she asked.
"I have none," the Doctor replied. "If you're asking me whether
he is being transported elsewhere while he sleeps, the answer is no. Mr. Kim
has not been absent from sickbay since the accident. The only unusual events
have been intense levels of REM while he's unconscious."
Janeway creased her eyebrows. "If he's not physically leaving
the ship, is it possible that during sleep he's mentally interacting with another
universe?"
"That might explain the increased acetylcholine and seratonin
levels, but there is no way to verify such a hypothesis."
"But the plasma radiation saturating his body could be shifting
his consciousness to another reality," Janeway persisted.
The Doctor sighed. "If we're going to pursue this far-fetched
notion, then we should also note Mr. Kim's present condition."
Janeway turned and looked through the office window toward
Kim's bed. He was sitting up, intently reading something on a PADD. The blisters
on his skin were healing, and the flame-red glossiness was fading to a soft
pink.
"As you can see," the Doctor said, "he is showing remarkable
improvement. When he was first brought in, I had anticipated that death would
occur sometime last night."
Janeway turned back. "And now?"
"At his current RAD level, death will come more slowly--a
week or so. However, he claims that in his dreams he was shot by a plasma weapon,
and each time he dreams, his dream-self becomes more sick. There is a corresponding
improvement in the real Mr. Kim. In short: his dreams are healing him. My prognosis
is that if things continue as they are, he will fully recover."
"His dreams are healing him," Janeway repeated to herself.
"But are they dreams--or something more?"
Janeway left the Doctor's office and went over to Harry Kim's
bedside. He looked up as she approached. "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?"
"Much better, Captain," he replied. His face was pale, and
he had the look of one about to vomit. "Just... constantly nauseas. Good news
from the Doctor, though."
"I heard. You can't imagine how glad I am." She touched his
arm.
"I'm not out of the woods yet, though..."
"You'll make it, Harry." She looked down at the PADD he'd
been reading. "Elementary warp theory?"
"Just refreshing my memory."
"Harry, I talked to Mr. Paris before he went on duty. He told
me about your dreams--especially last night's. Are you planning to give this
scientist the knowledge to develop warp technology?"
"Their planet is dying, Captain. If you could see that asteroid
looming in the night sky...it's eerie. With warp technology, they'll have a
better chance of surviving. And there's a girl, Shara....I feel drawn to her,
like she's my ideal woman." He chuckled weakly. "The woman of my dreams."
"But Harry, what about the Prime Directive?" Janeway asked.
"As a Starfleet officer, you can't give these people knowledge they don't have."
"But Ovolos is on the verge of discovering it himself. He's
just gotten a few concepts wrong. He'll eventually figure it out. And anyway,
Captain, it's just a dream. Tom keeps telling me that, the Doctor keeps telling
me that...."
"But it might not be a dream, Harry! Your radiation poisoning
might have had an unusual side effect. The evidence is very circumstantial,
but...."
"Captain, it's just a dream. The Doctor is absolutely certain
of that, and the sensors show that I've never once left the ship."
"But do you believe it's a dream?" Janeway asked.
Harry shook his head. "No. I don't know how, or why, but I'm
convinced it's real. But all the evidence says it's just a dream, so I guess
it is.... I don't know. It's confusing."
"So we're left with the question: if you're convinced it's
real, but from an objective viewpoint it's just a dream, will you actually be
violating the Prime Directive?"
Harry gripped the PADD tightly. "I can't let those people
die, Captain. And you can't censor my thoughts."
Janeway sighed. "Well, the radiation poisoning has had one
very obvious side effect."
"What's that?"
She smiled. "You never would have argued with me before."
Harry slowly opened his eyes. Shara loomed in his vision,
golden and bright. "Good morning, sleepy head."
He screamed.
Shara pulled back. "What's wrong?"
"The pain," he gasped, as fire seared him to the bones. It
rapidly faded, finally becoming a tolerable sensation thrumming in the background.
"Worse than ever.... but I can handle it," he whispered through a parched throat.
Shara looked at him with concern and sorrow. "Poor Harry Kim.
I'm so sorry for you. If only...." She sat back on her heels, watching him.
Harry returned her gaze unblinkingly. Her eyes drew him in
and seemed to consume him. What he found made him more content with himself
than he'd ever been before, or, he suspected, would ever be again. Finally,
nervous and perhaps a little frightened, he broke contact and looked down at
his blistered hands.
"Doctor Ovolos told me you think this is all a dream," she
smirked. "Still think that?"
He looked back up at her. He nodded.
"Why?"
"Because women like you only exist in dreams. And they're
certainly attracted to me only in dreams."
She laughed. "You think I'm attracted to you? Well aren't
you the arrogant one."
He smiled weakly, half-heartedly. "If I'm not dreaming, how
do you explain how that phaser suddenly appeared in my hands the other day?
Right out of nowhere?"
"Hmmm. Good point."
"And," he said, "how do you explain this?" He held up his
hand. A glass of ice water magically appeared in his hand. "I'm thirsty." He
drank all the water and the glass vanished. Smugly, he said, "I rest my case."
"Your evidence is hard to deny. But I don't for a minute believe
I'm just a figment of your sleeping mind. I'm real."
"That's good, because it's more fun interacting with someone
who believes she's real." He went into a coughing fit. When it had subsided
he felt a wetness on his lips. He wiped them with his hands, which came away
bloody.
"I'll get Ovolos," Sharra said. She hurriedly stood and wandered
off into the crowded room.
Ovolos appeared several minutes later. He looked at the blood
flecking Kim's lips, at the obvious pain on his pale face. Kneeling beside Harry,
Ovolos said, "You certainly don't look any better. But I'm sorry, there's nothing
I can do for you."
"Doesn't matter," Harry said weakly. "That's not what I wanted
anyway. Get your notebook. I'm going to explain a few things to you."
"Oh? What of your mysterious Prime Directive?" Ovolos said
acerbicly. "And we're all just a dream anyway. Why help us?"
Harry gave a wince of pain in reply.
"Sorry," Ovolos said, softening. "I'll take any help I can
get. And by the looks of you we don't have much time." He reached behind him
and retrieved the notebook from where he'd tucked it into his waistband.
Harry took it and began thumbing through it. "You're about
to get a crash course in Basic Warp Theory and Technology 101. Now, where to
begin...."
Harry's eyes slowly fluttered open.
The Doctor noticed, set down the protoplaser he'd been cleaning,
and came to the bedside. "Mr. Kim, good morning. I--"
"Doc," Harry interrupted. "I feel incredibly good. I mean,
compared to before." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
He looked wonderingly at his arms and hands--the blisters were little more than
dry patches of flaky skin.
"Yes, Mr. Kim. I'm happy to report that while you slept your
body has miraculously thrown off most of the effects of the radiation. For the
next few days you will grow fatigued very easily, but other than that I give
you a 99% clean bill of health."
"Strange. In my dream, I went from very bad to just this side
of the grave," Harry said.
"Then your dream-self has not yet perished?" asked the Doctor.
"Not quite." Harry shrugged. "If I'm in such good shape now,
mind if I run to the mess hall? I'm starving."
"A healthy appetite is a good sign," the Doctor said. Then
he shook his head. "But no. I have a few more tests to run, and the Captain
has ordered you confined to sickbay under my constant supervision until you
perish. In your dreams, that is. We still aren't sure what we're dealing with
here. Despite your apparent good health, it is possible that you could have
a sudden relapse. I'm sure Mr. Neelix will be happy to bring the mess hall to
you."
Harry sighed. "So I'm just supposed to lay around here in
bed all day? I'll go insane with boredom."
"Fear not, Mr. Kim. I shall keep you properly stimulated.
I would appreciate your input on the medical paper I'm writing."
"Mine? On what?"
"On you, of course. Your case is definitely one for the textbooks.
Once we get back to the Federation, I intend to publish it in all the journals."
The Doctor picked up a PADD. "Now, shall we begin?"
Harry sighed again.
Just as the Doctor had predicted, Harry quickly grew fatigued.
Although Harry wasn't certain whether it was due to his recent ordeal or to
the Doctor's incessant rambling in that monotonous nasal voice of his. Whichever
it was, after several hours Harry Kim's eyes grew heavy and he drifted to sleep.
He opened his eyes to see Shara leaning over him, wiping his
brow with a wet cloth. "Harry?" she was saying, shaking him gently. "Harry,
we're going to move you. The ship is just about ready to launch, and Doctor
Ovolos has used his influence to get you a place onboard."
Harry's heart was hammering, and sweat rolled down his face,
stinging his eyes. "I don't think so," he rasped through a bone-dry throat.
He clutched Shara's arm weakly. "I think...this is it."
She sat back on her heels, opened her mouth as if to protest.
But she merely nodded instead. "You're right. I can see it." Her lips trembled
and her eyes grew moist. "Oh Harry...."
He tried to smile. "Don't cry. I'm dying, but not really.
I'm just...not going to dream of this place again. This is not the end for me,
so don't be sad."
She sniffed, trying to be strong. "I wish I could believe
that."
His sight began to grow dim. "What about the third asteroid?
And Ovolos?"
"The asteroid's going to hit in a few hours, right after we
launch. The other three will follow a few hours after that. And Ovolos....he's
ecstatic over his....your...theories. All our scientists are drawing up plans
for a warp engine. The fleet will rendezvous on the moon and build it. They
say we'll be in the Davlor system and settled on the new world within two years.
And it's all because of you, Harry." Her shoulders trembled with repressed sobs.
"If only you could come.... I need you."
"Now I'm absolutely certain I'm dreaming." He felt a sudden
fierce wind against his face, and the roar of crashing waves. "You hear that?"
he asked. His muscles went limp, his hand lost its grip on Shara's arm and fell
to the floor. He could hear her crying now, drowning out the roar.
"Goodbye, Harry Kim. I'll remember you forever, Harry, in
my dreams," she whispered.
Darkness rose up and consumed him.
Harry remained in sickbay for another day, until the Doctor
was convinced that Harry wouldn't have a relapse. Upon his release he hurried
to the mess hall and wolfed down a large lunch. After that he reported for duty.
Captain Janeway, still concerned, reluctantly allowed him to finish that day's
shift. To his chagrin, he learned that the cracked conduit that had caused his
accident had already been repaired. He'd been hoping to pick up right where
he'd left off.
A week passed, then two. The accident and his strange dream
faded into memory. Life resumed.
One night, over a month later, a sense of unease rousted him
from a deep, dreamless sleep. He sat up, the silk bedsheets slid to his waist.
He felt eyes watching him from the darkness, making his skin crawl.
"Computer, lights," he called out in a groggy panic.
The lights came on. A woman was sitting in the chair across
the room. Watching him.
Shara.
"Hello, Harry." She smiled and stood. Walked over and stood
beside the bed, looking down at him. "It's me, Harry. It's Shara. And I'm dreaming."
He looked up at her incredulously.
His door chime began beeping insistently. He looked into the
other room. "Come," he called out.
He looked back to Shara--
--but she'd vanished.
Tuvok and three security men came rushing into his bedroom,
phasers drawn. Tuvok looked around the room. "Are you all right, Mr. Kim? There
was an Intruder Alert, your quarters."
Harry looked at the empty space where Shara had been standing.
"I'm fine, Tuvok. But I wonder--"
He pinched himself.
