La Donne e mobile...
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento e di pensiero.
Sempre un amabile,
Leggiadro viso
The ship's chronometer told him three days and nights had passed. The first two hadn't been so bad. The Doctor had been almost gracious and hospitable in his treatment of Tom, but now it was back to business for him, and that meant opera. Tom tried to be tolerant. He was, after all, the equivalent of a guest in someone else's house. The Doctor had a nice singing voice, and at first it was rather pleasant, but now it was simply grating.
The Doctor had suggested deactivation. His brain functions still needed rest, just as they had when he was all in one piece, but the idea of being shut off was unsettling. He couldn't do it himself and he would not give the Doctor permission. The absolute truth was he didn't trust the Doctor. Tom just knew he would do something inadvertently to 'vex' the Doctor, and the Doctor would in turn shut him off without a word, the same way Tom had done to him so many times. Tom regretted his past actions, but now he was undergoing his own vexing moment. Shutting himself off was not an option.
The Doctor had not yet given him permission to visit the holodeck on his own. He didn't say anything out loud, but Tom was under the impression the Doctor feared he would figure out a way to remain there, and the thing was, he was right. Tom would do his best to come up with some convoluted reason to stay out of sick bay. The Doctor would get the Captain involved; she, or even worse Chakotay, would give him a stern lecture and he would just wind up back here where he started. In all honesty, he was hesitant to wander through Fairhaven or visit Sandrine's as a hologram. He had created those characters, and knew they weren't real. It didn't make sense, but being with them would somehow reinforce that he himself was not 'real' and that he could be deleted without a moment's thought. He would wait until he had someone 'real' to go with him.
There had to be another way. A distraction.
He hit his combadge. He hated to do this, but he was desperate.
"Paris to Torres," he said.
"Tom." His wife's voice was a lifeline. "Are you whispering?"
"Yes! Any way you can break free for a few moments?" he asked. He didn't know why he bothered to be discreet. The Doctor would pay him no mind even if he did notice.
"Is this an emergency? Is there something wrong with the hologram?" she asked.
"No. No emergency. Not really. I just need to talk to you," he said.
He heard her sigh. He normally would not have heard that over the com system.
"I'm so sorry, Tom. You know I would if I could, but I've got a lot going on. I'll tell you all about it at lunch…"
"That's not soon enough!"
Too late. She had signed off. His fist came down hard on the desk in front of him. What was the use of being the head of your department if you couldn't just hand things off to your subordinates and walk away? He was angry with her for a few minutes until reason won out over his frustration. In all fairness, she was constantly busy down there. Things always going wrong: conduits leaking, systems going offline and always the odd containment issue. If she said she couldn't get away, she couldn't. He hit his combadge again.
"Tom Paris to Ensign Kim."
"Hey, Tom." Harry sounded upbeat.
"Are you on the bridge?'" Tom used his normal voice this time. There was no need for subterfuge.
"No, I'm in Astrometric helping Seven. What do you need?"
"An escape! The Doctor is singing opera." Tom let his voice go monotone in an attempt to reinforce his desperation. "Constantly, forever singing opera…"
A long pause ended with a chuckle.
"Sorry, Tom, but I'm swamped. I'll see you when I get off duty same as usual," he said.
Tom's jaws tightened. Of course Harry would rather be with Seven. The woman was finally breaking free of her Borg conditioning and was learning to interact like a real human, and was almost pleasant company these days. If he himself were single, and if there were no B'Elanna in his life, he might have been doing the same thing.
He started to stew in his own negative emotions. He remembered once not long ago when he thought he had lost both B'Elanna and Harry in a horrible shuttle accident. He was experiencing something similar now. The two people he loved most in the quadrant might as well be on the other side of the galaxy.
In pianto o in riso, è menzognero.
È sempre misero
Chi a lei s'affida,
Chi le confida mal cauto IL cuore!
There had to be someone. That one person who would drop everything if someone needed him... of course! Why hadn't he thought of that? He hit his combadge.
"Tom Paris to Neelix."
"Tom! What can I do for you?" The Morale's officer's voice sounded cheerful. He wasn't out of breath, nor did Tom get the impression that he was in the middle of anything.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Neelix, but can you stop by sick bay? Now?" he asked.
"Of course I can. You want me to bring you something?"
"No. Just show up. Please!"
"Sure thing, Tom. I'll be right there."
Tom breathed a sigh of relief. How could he ever have treated this good-hearted, faithful soul like an adversary?
The Doctor brought his solo to an end with a flourish. Tom waited. There was silence for one brief shining moment, and then his hopes were dashed. The strains of Nessun Dorma penetrated the sick bay.
The doors opened. The Talaxian's sudden appearance brought the impromptu opera to an end. The Doctor stuck his head out of the door of his office. "Mr. Neelix! What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Oh, I thought I'd just stop by and see my how my buddy Tom was doing," he said. He hurried over to Tom's side.
The Doctor said nothing, but retreated back into his office. Puccini drifted out into the main bay.
"So what's the problem?" Neelix asked. A particularly long note built to a crescendo before moving down a few tones.
"That! That's the problem. He won't stop!" Tom said.
"Not an opera fan, I take it?" Neelix asked.
"I don't mind opera. In small doses. Not day after day, hour after endless hour. Why couldn't he like jazz, or rock?" Tom bowed his head and covered his ears. "Talk to me. About anything. Today's lunch menu. I don't care!"
"Well, hmm. Lt. Nicoletti and Mr. Ayala have been seeing quite a bit of each other."
"Really?"
"Yes. Dates to the holodeck. Made plans to spend the next shore leave together. That sort of thing."
"I'm happy for them. I hope it works out."
"Apparently some kind of rodent managed to come aboard; not sure when. Maybe during that stopover to that M-class planet we visited several weeks ago. They keep hearing it in the Jeffries tube over by Stellar Cartography. You know how those Delaney twins are. Spooked by anything; at least, one of them is. It would take a lot to frighten the other one, but apparently it's moving around all over but no one has seen it. Had crewman Lessing crawl around and look for it. He said he heard it while he was in there, but it always kept ahead of him. It doesn't seem to have found the food stores yet, but I am keeping an eye out for it, whatever it is."
"I think I heard it here the other day. Does the Captain know?" Tom asked.
"I haven't told her. I didn't think it was a big enough problem to bring to her attention."
"Someone should. It could carry disease…" Tom received a sudden inspiration. "Oh, Doc!" he said sharply.
The singing stopped. The Doctor once again stuck his head through his office doorway. "What is it?" he asked.
"Mr. Neelix has just told me that we have an unwanted visitor on board. Apparently something is living in our Jeffries tubes. He thinks it might be a rodent."
That got his attention.
"This is serious, Mr. Neelix. It could be carrying a disease!" he said.
'"I know, Doctor. I just thought I could handle it myself."
"It could get into our food stores. I must take care of this right away! Where was it last seen?"
"We haven't actually seen it. We've just heard it. Last time it was near Stellar Cartographer," Neelix said.
"Well, I will take care of it! Mr. Paris, you are in charge! Computer, Doctor to Stellar Cartography!"
"Yes sir," Tom said as the EMH vanished. Sick bay was quiet. He turned and smiled at Neelix. During their conversation the Talaxian valiantly attempted to hold in his laughter. Now he couldn't control himself which in turn caused him to hit the side of the instrument trolley, making it shake slightly.
"You just saved my life. Now tell me... what else is going on out there that I should know about?" Tom asked.
Neelix rubbed his hands together and proceeded to do one of the things he loved best. Gossip.
The Doctor's hunt turned into a long, beautiful, opera-free stretch of time for Tom. It took a full day and night to find the ugly little creature. A long snake-like head and a very small body with many feet, like a centipede. No one knew what it was. It was venomous. The venom would not have been lethal, but it would have caused great discomfort to its victim. When the Doctor returned to sick bay with the remains of whatever it was, he began to study it in detail. Opera had been replaced by curiosity.
Tom was pleased with himself, but the quiet did not speed up the slow progression of the long days. He ran every diagnostic, recalibrated every instrument and all the bio beds. He saw to patients the same as he always did, making sure to joke about his current condition in order to put them at ease. Neelix continued to stop by daily, giving him updates on everything that happened below decks. Tom missed the atmosphere of the mess hall. He missed the morale officer's cooking. He missed simply walking down the corridor and greeting random crew members.
He missed sitting at the helm. Chakotay had stopped by and assured him that his team of relief pilots could carry on in his place because after all, hadn't he trained them? Hadn't he insisted on all that extra flight time, and hadn't he put them through all their paces? It was time to place his faith in his own efforts and in his people. Tom knew Chakotay would do a good job looking after the Conn, but it was a hard thing to concede.
This morning he had viewed the Captain's briefings via the monitor but spent most of his time staring at his wife. B'Elanna came to the sick bay whenever she had a free moment, but her visits always went by much too quickly. Yesterday evening when she stopped by his 'ring' had appeared on his finger, placed there by her programming. For some reason, the fact that he wanted it meant a lot to her. Her goodbye kiss was a little longer, and she held onto him a little tighter than usual and he didn't want to let her go. That felt almost exactly the same for him as it did before. His being a hologram hadn't changed that, and she told him that to her it was no different.
His mind began to wander during the briefing. When this was over he was going to take her to some ultra-romantic location. Sailing, somewhere. She liked sailing. He soon lost himself in a beautiful fantasy about her. She would be wearing that sundress, there would be a beach, and the sand would be white and warm. He had just gotten to the part where he was about to give her a long passionate kiss when something across the table startled her, causing her to look up at him. He winked at her. She smiled back, but her expression was a bit uncertain. His eyes wandered over to see what had caught her attention.
Staring at him, his face full of fury, was the Doctor.
Tom reluctantly focused his attention on Chakotay, who was going on in that soft sing-song voice of his about some anomaly they were approaching that Tom would never see. He didn't look at B'Elanna again until the meeting was over.
The Doctor materialized back into sick bay, the scowl still on his face.
"Need I remind you, Mr. Paris that those briefings are for serious ship business? Not an opportunity for you to be daydreaming and flirting with your wife. You are fortunate that no one else noticed."
"You're absolutely right. I just…miss her."
"I understand this is hard for you. I am no stranger to emotional attachments," he said. "But you see her every day. It's not like you haven't been separated before. Both of you have been on away missions that lasted longer than two weeks and you managed to survive."
"That was different. She wasn't… right there." Tom said. There was no way the Doctor would understand. He wanted to be alone with his wife somewhere away from this sickbay so they could have a little bit of privacy. She and Harry promised him a holodeck outing but the only time they had to work on it was after hours and they spent most of that time with him. He would have been happy enough hanging out at Sandrine's again but they seemed to be excited about it, whatever it was, so he decided to wait and let them work their magic.
So in the meantime all he and B'Elanna could do was talk. They talked mostly of her day and her work and daily operations. They did not speak of the fact that he was now inhabiting the holographic character Tom Paris One which she had quietly created. An idea started to form in his head of creating one of her so his holo twin would have someone to pal around with after he recovered. He would make one of Harry while he was at it. Why not copy the whole crew and keep them deep in a secure database, just in case something like this happened again? How hard could it be? Tuvok had done it, but he had decided to delete his creations after that disaster with the Alpha Insurrection program. The idea kept him occupied for most of the morning and he even went so far as to write out a proposal.
He eventually became bored with his holographic vision of Voyager. He was for the most part an easygoing person, but there was something within that would not allow him to simply exist. He had to be doing something, even if it was wrong. Maybe that was what caused him to pick up the small sharp pointed tool, intended for fine tuning the smaller instruments, and proceeded to prick his finger. There was pain but no blood. He found that intensely interesting and proceeded to repeat the process.
"MR. PARIS! What are you doing?"
Turning around, Tom was inches away from a very cross face. "Just experimenting. This is fascinating."
"Do you want to short-circuit yourself?"
"Can I do that?"
"Well… not really. But no good can come of that." The Doctor took the instrument away from him and stared down at the sharp point. He stayed deep in thought for a moment.
"So you can feel pain?"
"Yes. It's not quite the same as I felt it before... when I was real."
"Mr. Paris, might I remind you that…"
"Sorry, Doc. Of course you are real. I just meant…." Tom said. No matter how hard he tried he kept saying the wrong thing. The Doctor stared at him for a long minute before replacing the tool on the tray.
"Never mind, Mr. Paris. I would hope your present situation would be a cause for you to develop some sort of empathy for us photonic beings."
"I am Doc. Honestly. I had no idea what it was like." That was the truth.
The Doctor was silent for a few moments.
"I discovered something interesting while going over your records." The Doctor was back to his clinical self again. "Despite your less-than-enthusiastic attitude about your medical duties, you have somehow managed to complete almost all the requirements for the Level 5 Enhanced Field Medic Certification. That is no small accomplishment. Part of that is because of the uniqueness of our situation where you have been forced into on the job training and the other is, well, you have a good teacher, if I do say so myself. There is one protocol remaining and since you have time on your hands, so to speak, I believe now would be a good time to get this small, insignificant assignment out of the way. You can get started on it now and do the final when your consciousness is back in your body. This is one that, while not of the highest priority, does take practice."
"Practice? What am I supposed to do? Perform neurosurgery?"
"Successful delivery of humanoid infants. We start with a straightforward case, with a human, and then proceed to the various complications you might encounter and then move onto the various humanoid species. We do scenarios with and without instruments. It's rather routine and boring I might add."
"Deliver a baby?" Tom said. He wasn't sure he had heard him correctly.
"Yes. I will be there to assist you through the instructional phase. Nothing to it, I assure you."
"Deliver a baby?" Tom said. "Me?" Since arriving in the Delta Quadrant he had imagined all kinds of creative solutions for yet encountered situations but this was not one of them.
"Yes, Mr. Paris. Didn't you do this at least once during the required basic first aid training at Star Fleet Academy?"
"Yes," Tom said. 'Once. A long time ago. I don't remember much about it. I think they let me slide through on the requirement." Tom didn't want to tell the Doctor the reason his memory was hazy was because he had attended an unapproved party the night before.
"All the more reason to refresh your memory and to learn the proper procedures for various scenarios. I realize there is no need for such knowledge at present but unless some yet unknown fortune should favor us this will be a long trip hope. Voyager could easily become a generational vessel. I could be deactivated at a moment's notice. Best to be prepared. I also think the Captain would be interested in knowing how close you are to obtaining this Certification. In fact, she might just make it an order."
'No... I'll do it. Don't bring the Captain into it," Tom said. He hated admitting to the fact that the Doctor was right. It would be a long trip home, and things could go wrong. Why me? Of all the people on the ship. Delivering babies was the last thing he ever imagined himself doing and now there was no way of getting out of it.
"Good. Since there is nothing pressing, I suggest we start right away. Computer. Transfer EMH and Paris One to Holodeck One."