STAR TREK - VOY - 11 - The Garden

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CHAPTER 1

CAPTAIN KATHRYN JANEWAY STARED AT THE IMAGE IN her viewscreen, and the

holographic doctor stared back at her with an expression that she could only call dyspeptic. Not that he

wouldn't be the first to correct her misuse of a medical term, she added silently, but he still lacked a

certain level of self-awareness in his interactions with other people. But then, he hadn't been designed for

full-time, nonemergency function; if one took that into consideration, she thought, he was doing better

than she would have expected. In the screen, the hologram shifted impatiently, and she brought her

attention back to him.

"Well, Doctor?"

The doctor looked at her, his mouth compressed into a thin line. "I have to report two cases of

scorbutus-ascorbic acid deficiency."

"Scorbutus," Janeway repeated. The word was

vaguely familiar; ascorbic acid deficiency was more so, and she frowned. "Isn't that-"

The doctor nodded once, jerkily. "Scurvy. That's the common name, anyway."

Janeway's eyebrows rose at that, and she reached for her datapadd, calling up the file that gave the

supply situation. Voyager's food stocks were spelled out in intricate detail, each item cross-referenced

for its nutritional values as well as caloric content and availability. "According to my files, Doctor, there's

no shortage of vitamin C in the stores we have on board. Are you sure these crew members are eating a

balanced diet?"

"I've questioned both Ensign Renehan and Lieutenant Imbro about their eating habits over the past

month, and both claim to have been following Star-fleet nutritional protocols," the doctor answered.

"Indeed, by his account, Lieutenant Imbro should have exceeded the requirement for ascorbic acid to a

significant degree. Nonetheless, both are suffering from scurvy. I've put them on supplemental dosages of

ascorbic acid, which should correct their condition, but I cannot satisfactorily account for it."

Janeway took a deep breath, let it out slowly, keeping her face without expression. Nutritional

deficiencies had been something to worry about from the moment the Caretaker had brought them into

the Delta Quadrant Voyager's crew, human and nonhuman alike, had evolved in a very different part of

the galaxy; there had always been a chance that the planets of the Delta Quadrant would not provide the

various necessary minerals and trace elements in the quantities Voyager's crew required. Still, ascorbic

acid was one of the basics, one of the things that the away teams scanned for automatically, and as

automatically rejected flora that did not provide it. "All right, Doctor," she said

aloud, "keep me informed of Lieutenant Imbro's and Ensign Renehan's conditions-"

"Excuse me, Captain." The hologram's gaze was focused suddenly on her wrist, where the sleeve of her

uniform was pushed up against the edge of the datapadd. Janeway followed his look, and realized that he

was staring at the bruise just above the bones of her wrist.

"It's nothing, Doctor."

"It looks painful," the hologram answered. "Would you mind telling me how you did it?"

Janeway frowned. "Now that you mention it, I'm not entirely sure. I must have hit it against something. ..."

Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying, and the doctor nodded briskly.

"I would appreciate it if you would come down to sickbay for an examination. Bruising can be an early

symptom-particularly if you don't remember injuring yourself. How are your teeth and gums feeling?"

"They're fine." Janeway's frown deepened. She rarely spent much time worrying about her body; she did

what was necessary to keep herself fit, but otherwise tended to ignore her physical self until illness

demanded her attention. And so far, at least, she felt well enough, had observed no unsettling symptoms.

. . . She looked at the bruise again, ugly beneath her skin, and nodded to the doctor. "All right, Doctor,

I'm at your disposal."

"Sooner would be better," the hologram said, and Janeway allowed herself a smile.

"I'll be there in an hour. Compile a report for me on the other cases, and anything else you think is

relevant, and have it ready for me. Janeway out." She closed the viewscreen and stared for a moment at

the Starfleet logo that had replaced the image. When she had taken command of her first ship, that

symbol had

been a reassurance, a reminder that she was not alone, was part of an entity greater than herself. Here

and now, it served more to remind her of just how far she-all of them-were from home. Not for the first

time, she wondered if she should remove it from the standard screen, and once again rejected the idea. It

was better for everyone, even the ex-Maquis, to keep to the familiar as much as possible. She shook the

thought away, impatient with her own sense of loss, and reached for her datapadd. "Computer," she said

aloud. "Give me everything you have on ascorbic acid deficiency. Scurvy."

There was a surprising amount of information in the computer's memory banks, considering that the

disease hadn't been a problem in Federation space for generations, but none of it explained why people

would become ill when there was plenty of vitamin C available. Unless, she thought, the affected crew

members hadn't been following the nutritional protocols. She steepled her hands on the desktop, wincing

at the sight of the bruise on her own wrist. On the other hand, if she herself were somehow affected,

when she knew she had been careful to follow the recommended diet, then they, Voyager, could be in

serious trouble. It was probably nothing, she told herself, just a few careless crew members-and it was

easy to get careless without the replicators to provide the full range of needed vitamins and minerals-and

her own clumsiness that added up to an unnecessary worry. She couldn't convince herself, and shook her

head slowly, dismissing the files that filled her work screen. She would know soon enough; until that time,

there was no point in letting herself worry.

The doctor was already present in sickbay when she arrived, and she wondered briefly who had

forgotten to turn him off this time. His expression when he

turned to face her was less irritable then usual, however, and she guessed he'd asked to be left on-line.

"I have your report ready, Captain," he said, "but I'd prefer to begin with your examination."

Janeway frowned, more reflex than anything, but then allowed herself an inward shrug. "Very well. But I

can assure you I'm feeling perfectly well-"

She broke off as the doctor aimed a medical tri-corder in her direction, and waited while the diagnostic

cycled. The doctor grunted at the information on his screen, and then gestured to the nearest table. "If

you'd have a seat, Captain. And please roll up your sleeve."

Janeway complied, with a lift of the eyebrow that would have warned most of her crew that her patience

was reaching its end. The doctor ignored it, and her, focusing his considerable attention on the tiny

cylindrical scanner. He frowned at the reading it produced, touched a button, and applied it again to the

skin of Janeway's forearm. After a moment, it beeped discreetly, and the doctor removed it, his frown

deepening.

"Well?" Janeway asked, after a long moment.

"I wish I could say it was good news," the doctor said, his attention already diverted to another console,

and Janeway slid off the table, smoothing her sleeve back into place.

"I would appreciate a full explanation, Doctor. Now."

"I don't have a full explanation," the doctor began, and then stopped, as abruptly as he'd begun. "Oh.

You mean of the diagnosis. Well. There's no surprise there, I'm afraid. You're showing the same

deficiency as Imbro and Renehan, only not as advanced."

"My teeth feel fine," Janeway said, and was obscurely glad that she'd decided to search the ship's

memory on the topic. "And I haven't noticed bleeding from my gums or any of the other symptoms that I

understand are characteristic of the problem."

The doctor nodded, his attention once again on the screen in front of him. "Oh, your condition is much

less advanced than theirs. I suspect your own guess about the origin of this bruise is at least partially

correct. I think you probably did strike your hand against something, not so hard that you would notice,

in the ordinary course of events, but hard enough that, coupled with the weakening of the blood vessels

created by the deficiency, a substantial hematoma formed."

Janeway glanced at her wrist again, her annoyance fading as the implications of the doctor's words began

to sink in. "And yet, Doctor, I know I have been following the recommended diet. I shouldn't be getting

scurvy."

"I agree." The doctor looked up from his screen at last. "And the same thing seems to be true of Imbro

and Renehan. All three of you are getting plenty of ascorbic acid, but nonetheless you show signs of

deficiency."

"What's your explanation?"

"At the moment, I have none." The doctor's lips were compressed into a tight line, his eyebrows raised to

crumple the skin of his forehead. "I'm in the process of creating a test protocol, which, with your

permission, I'd like to implement for the entire crew. Once I've determined whether or not this is an

isolated problem, I'll have an easier time finding the cause. In the meantime, Captain, I would like to

begin by giving you supplemental vitamin C-a fairly high dose, I think we're better off treating this

aggressively-and ask you to return for further tests in, say, three days' time."

"All right," Janeway said. "Go ahead with the test protocol, and keep me informed of your results. And

let me know if there are any new cases."

"Of course." The doctor walked to a storage shelf, studied the containers for a moment, and then

selected a flat box from among them. "Take two of these tablets twice a day, preferably with a meal."

Janeway nodded. "How are your supplies?"

"We can synthesize more in the replicators, or conceivably extract it from some of the foodstuffs we have

on board," the doctor answered. "Though of course the latter would eventually affect our overall supply

levels."

"Right," Janeway said. Neither option was particularly appealing-one consumed power, the other the

food supplies, both of which were limited-but as short-term solutions, both would work. In the long

term- She cut off that thought. The only acceptable long-term solution was to find the cause of the

deficiency. "Keep me informed," she said briskly, and left the sickbay.

Ensign Harry Kim considered the plate in front of him, and the bland round grains that substituted for

rice, and was glad he'd accepted an extra spoonful of Neelix's vegetable curry. It was bright green,

almost the color of a cheap, sour-lime flavored candy he'd been fond of as a boy, but at least it tasted of

turmeric and ginger. Those flavors came naturally from the bright-yellow fruit they'd gathered on the

unnamed, uninhabited planet where they'd last stopped for supplies, and for a moment he could almost

feel the touch of the cool breeze that had swept across the grassy plain. It had been a beautiful world,

rich in vegetation, and almost completely lacking in animal life as Janeway had said, a perfect place to

restock

their larder without having to worry about upsetting the natives, especially once they'd run the tests and

discovered that the fruits and grains not only met their nutritional needs but almost certainly tasted good

as well. Kim closed his eyes, conjuring up the headland where his landing party had done their survey.

The air had smelled of the sea's alien salt; the plain had swept down from the headland until it met a low

line of trees laden with the yellow fruits. A perfect place, he thought, except for the silences. It had been

odd to be so close to the sound of surf, and not hear seabirds. Their noise had always been part of the

family's seaside holidays.

"Not up for the curry tonight, huh?" a familiar voice said, and Kim opened his eyes as Voyager's

helmsman dropped into the seat opposite him. "Can't say I blame you, I'm getting a little tired of these

gingered tomatoes myself."

"That must be why you took such a small helping," Kim said, dryly, looking at the other's overflowing

plate, and Lieutenant Tom Paris grinned back at him, not the least discomfited.

"Oh, got to be sure I'm getting all my vitamins, Harry. Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Kim said, suspiciously, and grimaced as Paris's grin widened. He ought to know by now

not to take everything the helmsman said at face value, and yet somehow he always asked. . . .

"We've got a little problem," Paris said, cheerfully, and shoveled in a mouthful of the curry. His eyes

widened, and he reached hastily for the nearest glass of water.

Kim allowed himself a smile. "Neelix has been experimenting with the spices again."

"You might've warned me. My god, where did he

get goat peppers in the Delta Quadrant?" Paris took a deep breath, and another cautious taste of the

curry.

"Who knows?" Kim leaned forward, planting both elbows on the table. "What little problem, Tom?"

Paris smiled again, his taste buds apparently already adjusting to the curry. "You'll never guess, so I'll just

tell you. Some of the crew have come down with scurvy."

"Scurvy?" Kim shook his head, and reached for his fork again. "No way, Tom, I won't bite this time."

"It's true," Paris protested. "I heard it from Ensign Renehan-she's one of the ones who has it."

"Maybe she just said it so you wouldn't ask her for another date," Kim said, and smiled as Paris made a

face at him. "Seriously, Tom, it's just not possible. I mean, scurvy's preventable-completely preventable.

And I worked on the team that checked the last load of food we brought on board, so I know the

analysis was good."

"Maybe you screwed up," Paris said, "or somebody missed something, because Rennie says she knows

eight other people who're having problems." He smiled again, this time with cheerful malice. "How are

your teeth feeling, Harry?"

"Fine." Kim frowned, Paris's friendly barbs fading as he tried to remember the details of the analysis.

Everything had been well within normal limits; nothing had stood out, and nothing stayed in his memory.

He shook his head again. "Damn it, Tom, people can't have scurvy."

"A demonstrably untrue statement," a cool voice said from behind Kim, and in the same moment he saw

Paris smooth his expression into something more decorous. "Though based on logical assumptions."

Kim stood quickly. Lieutenant Tuvok was one of the few people on board who could still make him feel

as though he were at the Academy, and he still couldn't imagine how the Vulcan had functioned as part of

Chakotay's Maquis crew. He heard the chair scrape as Paris copied him, less automatically, and Tuvok

acknowledged the courtesy with the flicker of an eyelid.

"The captain would like to see you both in the ready room," the Vulcan continued.

"Now?" Paris asked. Kim glanced back, and saw him looking with regret at his unemptied plate.

"Now," Tuvok agreed. He added, "The matter is urgent."

"Or at least sensitive," Paris said, "since we're not using communicators."

"Just so," Tuvok said, apparently without irony.

Kim reached for his plate and utensils, bundled them into the nearest cleaning slot, and stepped out of the

way to let Paris do the same. Tuvok waited, not hurrying them, and Kim decided he could risk the

question.

"So there is scurvy on board, sir?"

"Several crew members are suffering from an ascorbic acid deficiency," Tuvok said. "The captain will

explain the situation in more detail." He turned without waiting for an answer and strode toward the

nearest turbolift. Kim followed, Paris at his heels, and heard the man murmur something under his breath.

He couldn't quite make out the words, but Tuvok answered without turning, "No doubt it will, Mr. Paris."

"Crushed again," Paris said, and took his place in the turbolift.

Serves you right, Kim thought, but under Tuvok's curious and uncomprehending stare decided to keep

silent.

The others were already present in the ready room

by the time they arrived. The captain acknowledged their arrival with a curt nod and, mercifully, no

further comment, and Kim slipped hastily into his seat next to the chief engineer. Lieutenant B'Elanna

Torres gave him a look-no smile, but no overt hostility-and returned her attention to the datapadd in front

of her. Kim slanted a glance at it, but couldn't make out the lines of text and didn't dare look too closely.

He looked around the room instead. Everyone was there whom he'd expected to see Tuvok and Paris,

of course; the first officer Commander Chako-tay; Torres; the alien Neelix, perched between discomfort

and eagerness on the very edge of his chair- everyone, Kim realized abruptly, except the holographic

doctor. Even as he thought it, however, a wallscreen lit, and the doctor's image peered out of it. Seeing

him, Janeway nodded and leaned forward, drawing everyone's attention with the simple movement.

"I'm sure the news of our present crisis has spread throughout the ship by now," she said, "but, to

summarize, to date over thirty crew members are suffering from some form of ascorbic acid

deficiency-scurvy to those of you with a historical bent-while analysis of our stores shows that there is an

ample supply of vitamin C in the food we have on board. Naturally-" She gave a small, austere smile.

"Naturally, I'm concerned. Doctor, let's begin with your conclusions."

"Certainly."

Kim shifted in his chair to face the hologram, uncomfortably aware that he had left a message from the

doctor unread and unanswered in his personal files. At the time, he'd thought it had to do with his annual

physical-the ship's computer was still keeping its records up to date despite their unscheduled

trip to the Delta Quadrant-but now he wondered if it had had to do with the discovery of scurvy on

board.

"So far," the doctor went on, "I have examined a little more than ninety percent of the crew, and have

made firm appointments with most of the remainder. As the captain said, I have found thirty cases of

actual clinical deficiency, and another forty-two crew members show signs that they are not getting

enough vitamin C. I have been treating the deficiency cases with supplemental doses, but so far only

Lieutenant Imbro has responded positively to the treatment, and I had to give him dosages that bordered

on toxicity before he responded. In other words, Captain, I think we've got a problem."

"Not responding-?" Chakotay began, and broke off abruptly, glancing at Janeway.

The captain nodded. "Could you be more specific, Doctor?"

"I'm not sure how," the hologram answered. "I have given each of the affected crew members enough

vitamin C to reverse the condition, but it hasn't worked. I'm running tests now, but right now my best

guess-and it is only a guess-is that something is impeding the absorption of the ascorbic acid."

"It's not my fault," Neelix said hastily. "I've followed your protocols, I've done everything exactly the way

you told me to-"

"I'm sure, Mr. Neelix," Janeway said firmly. "We'll get to you in a moment."

Neelix started to protest further, met her steely look, and shut his mouth again without making a sound.

"I take it you don't have any idea what's causing the problem?" Chakotay asked, after a moment, and the

hologram shook his head.

"Not yet. I'm investigating, of course, but I haven't found anything untoward in the affected crew

members' systems. This suggests that, if a contaminant is impeding absorption, it, too, is broken down

fairly rapidly by the body." The doctor paused, seeming to consider something only he could see. "It may

or may not be significant that only human crew members have been affected so far."

"Unsurprising," Tuvok said. "Not all species make use of ascorbic acid. Vulcans, for example, do not

metabolize it at all."

How very helpful, Kim thought, and heard a soft noise from P aris. Janeway glanced in his direction, but

apparently decided to ignore him.

"Very well, Doctor, continue with your tests, and let me know as soon as you find anything."

"Of course."

Janeway nodded again, still with that slight smile. "In the meantime, gentlemen, I'm open to further

suggestions."

There was a little silence, and then Torres tossed aside her stylus. "Don't look at me, I'm an engineer. I

don't know a thing about biological systems."

"I've been following the protocols," Neelix said again. "I swear, I've done everything just the way you

told me-"

"I don't doubt that Mr. Neelix is entirely correct," Tuvok said. "Nonetheless, the food supply is, logically,

the place to begin this investigation."

"I agree," Chakotay said. "And we did take on a lot of food in one place this last time. Not that we had a

choice, given how rare M-class planets have been lately, but reliance on a single source is never good."

Janeway nodded. "With hindsight, I'm beginning to wonder if we should have been concerned about the

absence of animal life."

Kim made a face, thinking about that lovely, empty planet. Rich it had been, but perhaps not as perfect

as it had seemed. He thought he could guess what was coming next, and was not surprised when

Janeway turned her gaze on him.

"Mr. Kim. You ran the analysis of the first samples we collected, is that right?"

"Yes, Captain." Even though he knew there was no need to defend himself, he found himself rushing on.

"There was nothing anomalous in our findings, though."

"Except that we didn't know what we were looking for," Chakotay said.

"A number of things can interfere with vitamin C absorption," the doctor said impatiently.

"But I assume you've already tested for the most obvious ones," Janeway said.

Kim looked away from the wallscreen, trying to collect his own thoughts. The analysis had been done

quickly-it had had to be done quickly, they had had to come into the fringes of Kazon-Ogla space to find

any class-M planets at all, and they had had to reject two others before they had found this one. And it

had been a good thing they'd been able to hurry it along the sensors had detected Kazon-Ogla activity

nearby almost before they had finished the harvest. But as a result, they had looked only for positive

dangers in the food, and known negatives like shortages of the crucial trace minerals. "Captain," he said

aloud, "could something else be, well, masquerading as vitamin C?"

Janeway looked at the hologram, who shrugged. "That would be one possible explanation. Something

that the human body perceives as vitamin C, and is therefore picked up preferentially over vitamin C-

yes, that could happen."

"And if it looked enough like vitamin C, chemically speaking, to fool our bodies," Kim went on, "could it

have fooled the computers as well?"

There was a little silence after he'd finished speaking, and then Chakotay said, "That's a frightening

thought, Mr. Kim. And frighteningly plausible." He looked at Janeway. "That could explain it. If there's

some difference at the submolecular level?"

"Like the left-handed amino acids," Kim said, dredging his memory for details of an already-forgotten

Academy course in nutrition and diet.

"Look into it, Mr. Kim," Janeway said, and, too late, he remembered something else he had learned at

the Academy. Never even look like you might volunteer, the senior cadets had said, and, all too often,

they'd been right.

"Yes, Captain," he said, and managed to keep the resignation from his voice.

"Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Tuvok," Jane-way went on, "I want you to review the records of the

worst-affected crew members, see if there's any common factor among them besides being human.

Lieutenant Torres, run a study of the minimum crew required to keep Voyager operational. I want

answers-" She glanced again at her datapadd. "-in forty-eight hours."

There was an awkward murmur of acknowledgment, almost drowned in the shuffling of chairs, and Kim

followed Torres and Paris from the ready room. The engineer was shaking her head, already deep in the

parameters of her problem, but she looked up as Chakotay came abreast of them.

"I'll run the study, but I already know we need at least seventy-five people-seventy-five healthy people-to

run the ship."

"Do what you can to bring it down, B'Elanna," Chakotay said.

"There isn't anything," Torres answered, but sounded oddly satisfied as she turned away.

Kim turned to the turbolift, and was not surprised when both Neelix and Paris crowded in with him.

"Shuttlebay," he said, to the computer, and looked pointedly at the others.

"Shuttlebay," Paris said, cheerfully. "I thought I might be able to give you some help."

"Thanks," Kim said, surprised but pleased, and Neelix cleared his throat.

"Galley," he said, to the computer. "I mean, deck three. Officers' lounge. You know, gentlemen, I simply

don't understand how this could have happened. I steered you to a perfect planet, one that met all the

captain's criteria-no indigenous population, she said, and outside the Kazon-Ogla sphere, or almost, and

it had to be rich in edible plant life. Not exactly easy to find, especially not in this quadrant, but I did

exactly what was required."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Kim said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Paris grin, and fixed the

other man with a disapproving stare. If Paris started one of his practical jokes now ... At that moment,

the turbolift slowed, and he gave a sigh of relief as the door opened.

"I've done my best," Neelix said, and stepped out into the corridor. The turbolift doors closed again, and

Paris snorted.

"Why is it that his best never quite works out the way we expected it to?"

"Or that he did," Kim answered, and then shook his head. "You're not being fair, Tom."

"I suppose not," Paris said, reluctantly abandoning his joke. "So, what do we do now?"

"I wish I knew."

The turbolift slid to a stop again, and the doors opened onto the dimly lit lower corridor that gave access

to the shuttlebays. Power had been rerouted from the corridor lighting to the hydroponics trays and the

special lights that helped to feed the plants, and to the preservation fields that kept the provisions stored

in the second, smaller shuttlebay, and the corridor was not only dim, but oddly chilly. It was probably

purely psychological, Kim knew, or at best the contrast with the warmer air of the hydroponics room, but

he always found himself shivering when he came down to the converted shuttlebays.

"All right," said Paris, "then where do we start?"

Kim touched the wall controls, disengaging the locks on the storage room door, and then reached for his

tricorder. "I guess with whatever Neelix has been using most of-the tomato-things, maybe."

Paris reached for his own tricorder, and Kim heard soft machine beeps as the other man consulted his

data. "I just got the computer to check the menus for the last six weeks, since we took this stuff on

board. You're right, the tomato-things have showed up in nearly every meal since then, and then he's

used a lot of the sour-cane-"

"Sour-cane?"

"The stringy stuff that tastes like onions and lemons. And there's a big bean that comes in third."

"Those are all things that we were afraid would spoil." The soft, female voice came from the doorway of

the hydroponics room. "Hello, Harry. Is something wrong?"

Kim turned to face the Ocampa woman, his lips curving into an automatic smile. "Hello, Kes."

"What, no hello for me?" Paris asked, grinning, and Kes smiled at him politely.

"Hello, Tom. Is something wrong?"

"Hasn't the doctor told you?" Kim asked. Kes had been studying with the holographic doctor almost

since she came on board.

Kes shook her head, frowning now. "He's been very busy lately, and so have I, trying to get the new

seedlings established. I haven't spoken with him in days."

"A lot of the crew are suffering from a vitamin deficiency," Kim said. "Even though there should be

enough of the vitamin in the food we're eating. We're trying to find out why."

"Is it serious?" Kes asked.

"It could be fatal," Paris answered.

"Can I help?" Kes looked at Kim, who nodded.

"Another pair of hands can only speed things up."

"Let me get my tricorder," Kes said, and disappeared back into the hydroponics room.

Kim looked at his tricorder again, checking the menu of preprogrammed tests. He had run the more

common ones when they brought the food on board; that left the less common ones, and then the specific

examination of the ascorbic acid in the food. Kes emerged from the other shuttlebay, holding up her

tricorder, and Kim nodded. "All right," he said aloud. "Tom, you'll run the first five tests on this list, and,

Kes, you'll take the rest of them. I'll set up the tests for ascorbic acid. We'll start with the foods Neelix

has made most use of, and then work our way down the list."

"Shall we synthesize the results as we go along?" Kes asked.

Kim nodded. "But don't bother reporting anything until you find an anomaly." He looked from her to

Paris. "Everything clear?"

"Reasonably," Paris said, and Kes merely nodded.

"Then let's get on with it," Kim said, and opened the door to the storage room. For an instant, it was lit

only by the pale blue glow of the stasis fields, and then the overhead lights came on as well, fading the

fields to near-invisibility. Kim could feel them, though, a chill presence that raised the hairs on his bare

skin as he moved into the room. This had been a repair bay; it was smaller than the shuttlebays to either

side, but the shelves of food-some wrapped in clingfilm, some boxed, some preserved in containers-rose

to nearly three times his height.

"I'll take the left aisle to start," Paris said. "Harry, you want the middle?"

"I doubt it makes much difference," Kim said, but nodded. "Kes, that leaves you the right."

"All right." The Ocampa disappeared down the side aisle.

Kim took a deep breath, and started down his corridor. The presence o f the stasis fields was much

stronger here, enough to raise goose bumps on his arms even through the uniform. He suppressed a

shiver as he consulted the tricorder's plan for the area. He would begin with the tomato-things, he

decided- at least three tons of them were stored in this aisle, and he had a feeling that they were

somehow involved-and then sample the beans and the sour-cane, and move on to the other food as

necessary.

The tomato-like fruits were stored in gas-filled cylinders at the middle of the aisle. Kim found the nearest

control box and adjusted it until he had a window in the field through which he could drag one of the

cylinders. Even with antigrav assistance, it was heavy, and he was sweating by the time he had it sitting in

the middle of the aisle. He resealed the stasis field behind him, and turned his attention to the cylinder.

The bright green fruit-somehow less viru-

lent than he remembered from the curry-bobbed gently in the preserving gas, clearly visible through the

transparent walls. They certainly looked all right, he thought, and worked the controls to retrieve one

fruit. The selector mechanism whined softly, numbers flickering across the checkplate, and a small

lockplate slid back at the top of the cylinder. A single fruit sat in the opening, wisps of gas curling away

from its bright rind. Kim took it, cautiously, wondering if something that small, that innocuous-looking-

that tasty, he admitted silently-could really be the cause of their problems, and set it carefully on top of

the cylinder. The access lock closed again with a soft hiss, and Kim reached for his tricorder.

He had run the standard tests before, but he cycled quickly through them again, just in case something on

the planet, some peculiarity of the local condition, had interfered with their survey. As he'd expected,

however, the results were the same as they had been before the fruit was perfectly edible, and even

actively healthy for humans. The band that sampled ascorbic acid glowed bright green, at the upper end

of the desired range. Kim made a face at that, and adjusted the controls, defining a new test. It, too,

came back green, showing normal molecular structure. He ran two more tests, each one designed to

target structural oddities that might not appear on the first test, but they, too, came back green. So it's not

the ascorbic acid that's the problem, Kim thought, but something that's blocking its uptake-assuming, of

course, that these fruits are actually the source of the trouble.

He adjusted the tricorder controls, calling up the next battery of tests, and waited while the machine

cycled though them. This time, the telltales showed bright red all across the board there was nothing in

the fruit's makeup that should interfere with absorption of vitamin C. And since something very obviously

is interfering, Kim thought, hearing Tuvok's voice in his mind, then one must assume that these fruits are

not the culprit. He reopened the gap in the field, wrestled the cylinder back into place, and turned his

attention to the next item on the list. The beans, massive, mottled spheres a little larger than his fist, were

stored in open boxes, protected by their hard rinds, but they, too, showed both an abundance of

ascorbic acid and a complete absence of anything that might block its uptake. He got the same results

from the sour-cane, and stood for a moment, staring at the tricorder's screen. He had been sure it would

be one of those three foods-they were the ones that Neelix used most, the ones that nearly everyone

agreed tasted good, the ones that had become the staples of nearly everyone's diet-but then shook his

disappointment away. The tricorders didn't make mistakes; if they said there was enough ascorbic acid in

these foods, then there had to be some other factor involved. Maybe, he thought, one of the other foods

interacts with these, which might explain why some people are more affected than others. The idea

cheered him slightly, and he lifted the package of sour-cane back to its shelf. He would begin at the

nearer end of the aisle, and test everything.

It took him almost five hours to test everything else in the aisle, but at the end of it he still hadn't found a

likely cause for the deficiency. He stood at the end of the aisle for a long moment, sharply aware of his

own hunger and fatigue, then made himself turn back toward the door, touching his communicator as he

went. "Kim to Paris."

"Paris here."

It was only a minor consolation, Kim thought, that

Paris sounded as tired as he did. "I'm done with my aisle. How are you doing?"

"I've just finished," Paris answered. "I haven't found anything, Harry."

Kim swallowed hard, telling himself that the sudden emptiness in his gut was just hunger. "Neither have I.

Maybe Kes-?"

"Kes here," the Ocampa said. "I'm sorry, Harry, all my tests haven't turned up anything either."

"Damn." Kim bit off the rest of what he wanted to say. That can't be right, we've made some mistake, we

should do the tests again- There was no point in that, and he straightened his shoulders, trying to think

what he-what a Starfleet officer-should do next. "All right," he said, "meet me back by the door, and let's

compare notes. Maybe something will show up in the test protocols."

"I sure hope so," Paris answered. "I like my teeth where they are, thank you."

Kim grimaced, annoyed at the other man's flippancy, and as he reached the door was meanly pleased to

see that Paris was no longer smiling. "So," he said, "let's link tricorders and see what we can come up

with."

Paris offered his tricorder, and Kes copied him, but she was frowning slightly. "Something's just occurred

to me, Harry," she said, and Kim looked up from trying to mate the three machines.

"Oh?"

"Yes. We're not testing the right things. I mean, these-" Kes gestured to the shelves behind them. "This

isn't what we eat, not in this form. What we eat is cooked. Could that make a difference?"

Kim stared at her for a moment, the tricorders forgotten in his hands. "It could," he said. "My God, it

really could."

Paris gave a little yip of impatience. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's check out the galley."

Kes nodded, but her mobile face was sad. Kim hesitated. "Is anything wrong?"

Kes shook her head, forced a rather wan smile. "No, not exactly. It's just-if it is the cooking, Neelix will

feel terrible."

"Better to find out what's wrong," Paris said, brutally cheerful, but Kim touched the Ocampa lightly on the

shoulder.

"It isn't Neelix's fault, Kes, and no one will blame him. If anybody's to blame, it's us-the away team, I

mean. We should have tested for that."

"Oh, don't you start," Paris said, and touched controls to summon the turbolift. "First, you couldn't've

known either, and second, we don't even know if that's the problem yet."

Neelix's makeshift kitchen was actually a surprisingly efficient and pleasant space, despite the constant

fuss and bustle from Neelix himself. The second dinner shift had just ended, and Neelix was watching

jealously as a trio of human crew members fitted the first of the cooking pots into the cleaning belt. A

second team was busy setting out the trays of cold food that would be available for anyone whose duties

had kept them from eating during a regular serving period, and, seeing that, Kim heard his stomach

growl.

"Dammit," Paris said, "he's put everything away."

"Just in cold storage," Kes answered. "Don't worry, Tom."

Neelix turned sharply at the sound of her voice, and came toward them, smiling, his eyes darting from

Kes to Paris and then back again. "I was looking for you, Kes. I could have used your help with dinner-it

would have been very helpful, in fact."

"I'm sorry." Kes didn't sound particularly repentant. "I was helping Harry in stores."

Neelix turned a suspicious glare on Kim, who said hastily, "We've spent most of the day testing the food

supplies. We think that the ascorbic acid in the food from that last planet may be affected by the cooking

process, so we need to test the food you served tonight."

"Well, there's not much left," Neelix answered. "The curry was very popular tonight-it was the green

leeabi nuts in the piquant yduvari salsa, very tasty, if I do say so myself-and I don't know if there's

enough-"

"Even something left on a plate would do," Kim said, breaking firmly through the chatter, and Neelix gave

him a look of horror.

"Oh, no, I can do better than that. This way, please."

Kim followed him behind the improvised serving station, and Paris and Kes leaned on the nearest

counter, peering past the trays. Neelix ignored them all, rummaging in a stasis box until he finally

produced a covered container. He held it out to Kim with a flourish. "I made this specially for the captain.

I know she liked the leeabi nuts when I made them this way the last time, so I thought-"

Kim nodded, letting the wave of talk roll over him, and pried off the tight-fitting lid. Inside the dish was a

darker green version of the curry he had had at lunch, tastefully cupped inside a thick dark-red leaf.

"-so if there's anything wrong with it, anything at all," Neelix went on, "I want to know about it. I want

you to test it-in fact, I insist you test this. Nothing but wholesome food goes to the captain from my

kitchen, nothing else."

"Right," Kim said, and aimed the tricorder at the curry. He held his breath and pressed the button that

would initiate the test. For a long moment, nothing happened, and then the bar light appeared. It glowed

pale red, and beneath it letters and numbers spelled out the details that confirmed its news there was little

or no ascorbic acid in the curry. Kim gave a whoop of joy, and then sobered as abruptly. They might

have found the cause of the deficiency, but they were no closer to its solution.

"Good news?" Paris asked, and Kim gave him a wry smile.

"Depends on your definition of good. It looks like you were right, Kes, the cooking process doe s

somehow destroy the vitamin C."

"What?" Neelix shook his head, nearly sending his tall hat flying. "Gentlemen, I assure you, everything is

properly cooked here-"

"It's not your cooking," Kim said, and turned his tricorder on another dish. "It's something about the food

itself that's the problem."

"But-" Neelix broke off as Kim touched his communicator.

"Kim to bridge."

"Chakotay here. Go ahead, Mr. Kim."

"I have a preliminary report for the captain," Kim said. "I'll be entering more detailed information into the

computer, but I think she should hear this now."

"I'm here, Mr. Kim." Janeway's tart voice was perversely reassuring. "What have you found?"

"It looks like the problem isn't precisely in the food," Kim said, "but with the cooking. Somehow, cooking

seems to destroy some of the nutrients we need."

"I see." There was a little silence, and then Jane-

way's voice came briskly. "Very well. File your report as soon as possible. I'll have the doctor and Mr.

Neelix investigate our options. Janeway out."

"Well," Paris said.

"But what am I going to do?" Neelix demanded. "I've worked like a slave to come up with these recipes,

recipes that have pleased even the most finicky of the crew, and now I'm supposed to, what, do it all

over again?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Kim said.

Neelix ignored him. "I've done everything in my power to make this work. I've experimented with taste

and texture, using myself for a guinea pig when no others were available, and now you tell me all this is

for nothing?"

"Think of it this way, Neelix," Paris said. "Now you can really prove what a great cook you are."

The ready room was unusually quiet, each of the officers bent over a datapadd, no one willing to meet

the others' eyes. Even Kes was quiet, her pretty face for once unsmiling. Janeway looked around the

room, and felt her lips tighten at the sight. Things were bad, certainly, but they had been worse; she

would not tolerate this level of pessimism even in the privacy of the senior officers' gathering. "Well,

gentlemen," she said, and was pleased by the sudden shift in alertness as all eyes turned to her. "I gather

the news is not promising. Mr. Kim, will you begin?"

"Yes, Captain." The young man looked nervously down at his datapadd, and Janeway gave him an

encouraging smile.

"I don't have a whole lot to add to my preliminary report," Kim went on. "To summarize, all of the food

that we took on board at the last stop seems to be affected by, well, I guess you'd have to call it weak

molecular bonding. We're still not fully sure how it works, or what causes it, but the results are pretty

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CHAPTER1CAPTAINKATHRYNJANEWAYSTAREDATTHEIMAGEINherviewscreen,andtheholographicdoctorstaredbackatherwithanexpressionthatshecouldonlycalldyspeptic.Notthathewouldn'tbethefirsttocorrecthermisuseofamedicalterm,sheaddedsilently,buthestilllackedacertainlevelofself-awarenessinhisinteractionswithotherpeople....

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