Chapters 41-43

Chapter 41

Later that day, Erit came to visit me--a visit that honestly caught me off guard.

“Jason,” he said as he tsk’d me. “What have you done?”

He looked genuinely worried and confused--this was a man that did not understand fighting the power structures when they were wrong; indeed, the idea of the system making a mistake was beyond his comprehension. It wasn’t that he was evil--the truth was much more banal. He was stupid.

“Hello, sir,” I said curtly. If I was supposed to be embarrassed by my situation, I did not show it. After all, I wasn’t. “What can I do for you?”

He laughed. “Do for me? How about an explanation, for starters! You were to be my successor, you know that? You had an amazing career in front of you.”

“I don’t care about careers.”

“Then what do you care about?”

“I care about doing the right thing.”

“And how is this right?” he asked. “How is ruining your life and your future right?”

“How is letting Janeway get away with murder--”

“Oh come off it,” he said, irritation creeping into his voice. “She didn’t kill anyone and you know it.”

“And everyone thinks that?” I demanded.

He laughed. “Look, you’ve caused quite a stir--”

Yes! Success! I leapt to my feet. “Is there an investigation?”

“What?” he said, confused. “Of course--you’re facing two--”

“I mean of Janeway.”

He looked at me blankly. “I can’t believe you’re still--”

“Just tell me!” I demanded. “Look, I’ve sacrificed so much for this. Just tell me: is Janeway being investigated for killing Tuvix?”

A long pause.

“I cannot believe you would destroy your career over something so...unimportant.”

“So unimportant!” I demanded. “So unimportant as the life of an innocent individual? You’re no better than Janeway--why, I’m sure you’d join her and bathe in his blood if you could. Get out of my sight!” I yelled, but it was too late--he had already turned away and was walking away from me. “Rot in your goddamn office with your whiskey and your golf buddies, worthless coward!”

Chapter 42

I had written most of this letter in the first week of my incarceration, and suddenly I had another visitor. I could not believe it, but the voice woke me up from a nap. I winced at the lights from the hallway as I turned around, and there with arms crossed staring straight at me, was her.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” Janeway said, staring straight at me.

“Have you come here to gloat?” I demanded.

“Actually, I came to tell you how much I admired you,” she replied softly. That was not what I was expecting. I sat up. “What you did took real guts. I just want to know why you did it.”

“I did it for Tuvix,” I said softly.

“Tuvix is still alive--in Tuvok and Neelix. And in my memory. Do not think for a moment that I am not pained at the decision I made that day. It still pains me.”

“Then why did you do it?”

She sighed. “Can I join you?”

I nodded.

She lowered the force field and stepped into the cell. The field stayed down, much to my surprise. She took the chair, turned it around, and sat next to me, facing me, eye to eye.

“I don’t expect anyone who wasn’t there to understand just what happened to us,” she said. “We were a family, and I was their mother. I’d never expected to be a mother, yet there I was. And a mother cares for the lives of her children above all else.”

“With all due respect, Admiral,” I replied.

“Call me Kathryn,” she said.

“Kathryn…” I said painfully, the oddness of calling an admiral by her first name was too much for me, even after everything I’d been through. “I can understand your need to take care of your crew, but that doesn’t justify murder.”

“Let’s say I had killed Tuvix,” she replied. “You know what? I would be fine with that--I would have killed anyone to protect my crew. I did that, on many occasions. Kazon, Vidiians, Borg--many lives were lost so that Voyager could make their way home. But I did not kill Tuvix, and you will never make me believe I did.”

“How did you feel when he begged for his life on the bridge?” I demanded.

“Hurt,” she said. I slumped--it was the last word I’d expected. “Hurt because I knew Tuvix was scared, and hurt because I knew I had to hurt him for his own good. He was a good man--how could he not be? He had the best of two of my finest crew.”

“Was Neelix your finest?” I asked, honestly surprised. I knew the Wildmans loved him, but did Janeway?

“Even Tuvok eventually learned that Neelix was one of our finest,” she said quickly. “He did more to keep us together than just about anyone else, and all of us were sad when he left us. I still think of him often.”

“So you killed Tuvix for Neelix?”

“Yes. And Tuvok. And Tuvok’s family,” she continued. “Before I boarded Voyager, T’Pel messaged me to ask for a status update for her husband. To hell with what the Vulcans say, she was worried.” Janeway quickly smiled. “I told her that everything was going according to plan and I would rendezvous with him soon. I also told her that I would bring her husband back safely--I promised her I would.”

“And you think that justifies killing Tuvix?” I demanded. “Even when he pleaded for his life?”

“I took his pleas seriously,” Janeway said curtly. “I considered his position. Just before I made my decision, Kes came to me. I hadn’t expected it and I was surprised to see her. She’d come to me a couple days before, telling me Tuvix had said he was in love with her. And at the time I felt so bad for her--caught in this muddle, and Tuvix didn’t help at all by dragging her in further. But I told her not to give up hope.”

She smiled. “I told her I thought of Mark, dreamed of him all the time. And the dreams felt so real--and then I’d wake up. I can’t tell you how painful those moments were--and I realized that Kes was enduring something just as painful, and at such a young age.” Janeway sighed. “I knew then I had to do everything I could for this poor young girl.”

“And that’s when you decided Tuvix must die,” I said.

“Not in the least,” she said quickly. “That was before we knew we could even restore Tuvok and Neelix. No, I realized that I was dealing with a lot of conflicting interests at that moment, and that I could not just so easily restore Tuvok and Neelix like it was some official order to an officer. No, this was much more than that.”

I was surprised--so often had I heard the argument that she had given an order to save two lives, and here Janeway was saying the exact opposite.

“I realized that I had to weigh the voices of two men, then silenced, against one man, who had a right to live,” she continued.

“And you decided to choose the voices of two men who were already dead,” I replied.

“After we saved Seven of Nine, she pleaded with me to let her go. She begged to be sent back to the Borg, to be a drone. And I didn’t listen to her, because I knew she wasn’t speaking as her true self. The same was true of Tuvix. He was not in his right mind--”

“You don’t know that!” I demanded. It was not a question.

“As I thought the whole thing over, after I found out we could separate them, I thought of the implications. My first instinct was to do it, even after Tuvix said he didn’t want to be split. After all, I thought, if Tuvok and Neelix wanted to remerge, we could get another orchid and replicate the accident,” Janeway said. “But then I thought, no, there was no way to know that that Tuvix was the same as this Tuvix--and this Tuvix had a right to exist, just as the rest of us did. That’s when I started to think I could not order him to be separated.”

I was stunned--I had hardly expected this.

“I want to tell you something,” Katheryn said, “something I have not told anyone ever--I didn’t even record it in my personal log.”

I waited, silent.

“I was thinking the problem over in my ready room, and I was nearing a decision. Then Kes came to see me.”

She took a moment; the memory was clearly not easy for her.

“I have never told anyone what she said to me--not even Chakotay, not even Tuvok or Neelix. Kes told me that Tuvix had asked her to speak on his behalf. ‘But I can’t,’ she told me. And she burst into tears.” Janeway’s voice cracked. “I embraced her; I tried to comfort her. But no one could comfort that poor girl at that horrible moment.”

Janeway’s eyes fell to the floor as she remembered what happened next. “Kes told me, ‘I don’t know how to say goodbye to Neelix and Tuvok. I know this sounds horrible, and I feel so guilty for saying it, and Tuvix doesn’t deserve to die, but I want Neelix back.’ Those were her exact words--I will never forget them.”

The air lay thick in the cell with the weight of what she had just said. And what she said next weighed us down even further.

“That was when I decided to order Tuvix to die.”

She did not look up. I could tell she was fighting back tears.

“I saw so many good men and women die on Voyager, so many had to die, so many I could not save,” she went on. “But I could save Tuvok and Neelix. And that’s exactly what I did.”

With that she inhaled deeply and looked at me again.

“Just as you are willing to go to prison for what you believe, I am willing to sacrifice whatever it takes for what I believe. And I believe giving Neelix and Tuvok their lives back was worth whatever sacrifice it took. I don’t care if you think I murdered Tuvix or not. All I care about is my children. And I got them back.”

And with that she stood up.

“I wish you good luck, Lieutenant Commander.”

She left the cell and I was once again alone, with no company but the faint hum of the force field in front of me.

Chapter 43

It took another two days for the counselor to show up. I knew this was standard practice for defendants held in custody, and since the trial had not yet been scheduled I’d expected a counselor to show up any day now. Their job would be to investigate my mental state and determine if I was fit for trial; standard stuff. But I was not prepared for what happened.

“Jason, what have you gotten into,” I heard the familiar voice say.

I’d been eating breakfast at the time, facing away from the hallway. I turned and there was Trevor, in enlisted uniform.

“Trevor!” I exclaimed. “What...what…” I couldn’t get the words out.

“What am I doing here?” he said helpfully. “Really I should be asking you that. What has happened to you?”

The weight of everything fell on my shoulders at that moment. My stomach started to tie itself up in knots and I felt an urge to cry. I was deeply, deeply ashamed.

“Trevor..” I said, and then I lost control.

He immediately embraced me, patted my back. “Buddy,” he said softly, “what happened?”

As I gained composure, he handed me my glass of water. I took a deep drink, then a deep breath.

“First,” I said, what are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” he said, his tone more sarcastic than a question. “I took your advice and became a counselor. If you’d read your messages over the last two years you’d know that.”

“Eighteen months,” I corrected him.

“Oh,” he said. “What a good friend you are.” Then he laughed.

And I laughed. It was the first time I’d laughed since I’d been in jail, the first real heartfelt, unironic belly laugh in my time here. It was the first moment of real joy I’d had since I’d got here--it was the first moment of real joy I’d had in a long time.

“But you know me,” I said. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“Well, yes,” he said, “but conflicts of interest are tolerated if they favor the defendant, unless there is a formal complaint by the victim or prosecutor. And there hasn’t been one yet.”

That surprised me.

“Janeway,” he said helpfully. “Janeway got me assigned to your case. It’s my first case, by the way; I graduated last week.”

That stunned me. Of course there was no way for a fresh out of school counsellor to be assigned to a high profile case--that is, unless strings were pulled. And Janeway had pulled those strings. To protect me.

I didn’t know what to say or what to feel. Confusion perhaps could best describe my mental state, combined with exhaustion.

“So let me ask you again, buddy,” he said. “What happened?”

And I told him everything. Everything I’ve told you. All of it.

He listened to my story, first with patient eyes, then with interest, then with intensity.

“That’s a goddamn crazy story,” he said.

“It’s all true. All of it.”

“Oh I don’t doubt you,” Trevor said. “And that’s why I’m going to recommend that you are not fit for trial.” He smiled, patted me on the back, stood up. “Don’t worry, man, you’re in trouble but your life isn’t over. My recommendation will probably go through, and I expect you’ll face a few months of out-patient psychiatric oversight. You’ll be home soon enough.”

He left the cell and, just as he was walking away, turned back. “Don’t forget--you owe Janeway for this.”

I grimaced.

“And when you get out, let’s meet for drinks--we got a lot of catching up to do.”

That was about an hour ago. After he left my cell I opened up this letter and read through it. I could keep it to myself and go home, thanks to the graces of a corrupt Admiral pulling her corrupt strings. I could go eat steak in Argentina and go for a walk in London and drink wine in Tuscany and visit my family in Malaysia. I could maybe even find Lauren and beg for her forgiveness. I could put Tuvix past me and go rejoin polite Federation society.

I know that’s what you want me to do. I know that’s what Janeway wants. It’s what all of you want.

And it seems like my choices now are to do what all of you want or do what I want. What is it that I want? To tell the truth, to have the real story recorded for posterity.

Do I delete this letter, abandon Tuvix’s memory, and go free? Or do I send it and risk the greater wrath of a furious Federation that a poor simple law clerk dares question?

Does it even matter? Now you have me. You have complete control. You decide my fate. You can decide to imprison me for telling the truth. You can suppress what is right and protect a murderer. I know my choices are limited. Years in prison or go join a society that pats itself on the back for being good and just--who cares if there are some dead bodies along the way?

Trevor has probably told you by now I am not mentally fit for trial and punishment, but I am. I am fit. But you know who isn’t fit? You. Your laws. Your system. Your corrupt, corrupt system designed to protect a murderer just because she is one of you. Fine. Stamp on the weak and powerless as we try to protect ourselves from you homicidal maniacs. In the end, it won’t matter. Because the arc of the universe bends towards justice, as a great man once said, and one day, someday, eventually I will have what you deny, and what the universe deserves.

I will have justice for Tuvix.