Ghost of a Chance (29 page)

What all of you saw, in the vision we all shared, was a glimpse of its spacecraft.”

“Yes, Captain,” Tuvok said. “It would be illogical to assume anything else.”

“Agreed,” Chakotay said simply.

“What made the alien travel to the surface of Drenar Four I can’t begin to know, but it spent time among the local inhabitants and grew quite fond of them, of their remarkable civilization; perhaps it was even impressed, as I was, by their natural prowess. But either the alien was dying or it implied that it was, and the Drenarians did everything they could to make its final days as satisfactory and fulfilling as possible—little more than gestures to the alien, certainly, but well received, I believe.”

“So before it left, the alien created the ghosts to help protect these people,” Chakotay concluded.

“Yes,” Janeway said. “It built a sort of fence around the planet, but one that would blend with their own culture, without compromising it any more than necessary.”

“Like the Caretaker,” Paris said, making the connection. “It wanted to protect the race it had found, though for a different reason.”

“It could even have been the second Caretaker,” Chakotay said offhandedly, as if the idea seemed almost too possible.

“Maybe, but I didn’t see that in any of my visions,” Janeway said. “We may never know.”

“Then in essence we did precisely what that alien did,” Tuvok suggested. “We protected the Drenarians while interfering with their culture as little as possible.”

“Yes, I’d say so,” Chakotay replied, nodding mostly to himself.

“They have lost a certain innocence now, though, haven’t they?”

Janeway said, rather melancholy. She looked up to find the others staring back at her, obviously concerned—about her, she knew, but not just her. “But they’ve lost none of their promise, I think,” she added.

“Present, or future,” Tuvok said.

Janeway acknowledged him with a nod. “Thank you, Mr. Tuvok.”

“It was right, to help them,” Chakotay said, his expression almost pensive. “We couldn’t have just walked away.”

“You can only live one day at a time,” Janeway conceded grimly.

Then she let a smile find her lips.

“Take us out of here, Mister Paris.”

The smile tightened.

“Take us home.”