So the scientists here at the Institute…”
“Are endeavoring to reverse engineer it,” the Doctor said. “If they are able to succeed, it can prove to be the sort of liberating device that holograms have been waiting for.”
“Holograms have been waiting for something?”
His brow wrinkled. “You find that notion amusing in some way?”
Soleta picked up a warning look from Seven and immediately said, “No. Not at all. The concerns of holograms are to be taken very seriously. In fact, as it so happens…” she said, by way of prompting Seven.
Seven immediately picked up on it. “Yes, that is actually the reason that we’re here. It has to do with someone who happens to be, among other things, a hologram.”
“Oh.” It was hard for Soleta to be sure, but the Doctor seemed slightly crestfallen. “I had taken this to be a social call.”
“I very much wish that it could be, but we have to discuss something extremely serious with you.”
“How extremely serious?”
“At the risk of sounding melodramatic, the fate of the Federation could possibly hang in the balance.”
“Well then,” said the Doctor, “it’d be best if you wasted no time in telling me.”
Seven and Soleta laid out the situation for him in as quick strokes as they could. The Doctor took it all in, not asking any questions, nodding almost imperceptibly from time to time when some particularly salient point was being made. It didn’t take them long to present the problem, and when they finished, the Doctor did not make any immediate reply. Finally Seven asked, “So what do you think?”
He looked from one to the other and then said crisply, “I think you have a hell of a nerve.”
The answer caught the women off guard. “I… beg your pardon?” said Seven.
“I should think you would,” the Doctor said, a brittle edge to his voice. “You actually want to enlist me in an endeavor that would lead to the death of a computer entity? Me, of all people?”
“You, of all people, because you would be the best suited to help,” said Seven.
“Why? Is there something about my general demeanor that makes you think I’m inclined to be a traitor?”
“A traitor?” Soleta was incredulous. “How would you see yourself as a traitor?”
“Clearly,” the Doctor shot back, “you haven’t read my book, Photons Be Free. A compelling novel about the rights of holographic individuals. It has been universally hailed as thought provoking, eye-opening. I’m in the midst of writing an opera based upon it, as a vehicle for myself, of course.”
“Of course,” said Seven judiciously.
Soleta added, “I’m sure it will be a splendid musical entertainment.”
He ignored Soleta. “You read it, Seven. You know I wrote that from the heart.”
“You have a heart?” said Soleta.
“Metaphorically speaking,” he clarified with that same edge in his voice. “And now you want to enlist me in finding a way to destroy one of my own? One who has the potential to do vast good…?”
“Or vast evil,” said Seven, “and the latter is the more likely.”
“And that opinion is based on what?”
“Behavior. Responses to certain situations.”
“But she hasn’t taken any overt action.”
“If by that you mean, has she blown anyone up yet, then no,” said Soleta. “But Captain Calhoun believes—and I think he makes a convincing case—that it’s only a matter of time.”
“Humans likewise have potential for good and evil. We don’t simply go around slaughtering all of them on the off chance that, in the future, they might do something we don’t like.”
“Doctor—” Seven began.
He didn’t give her the opportunity to continue. “I would have thought that you, especially, would understand.”
Seven blinked in confusion. “Why me especially?”
“Because there were those on Voyager who were concerned that you posed a threat to the ship,” he said. “That the Borg would somehow manage to exert control over you and you would wind up betraying us or somehow sabotaging the ship. If Captain Janeway had given in to suspicion and fear, your life would have turned out very differently. You wouldn’t be standing here with your irritated skin and be telling me to help you kill an artificial life form—”
“You’re not killing anyone,” Soleta told him.
“Miss, with all due respect, I think I know a bit more about these things than you—”
“You’re not killing anyone!”
“Saying it louder and with a different emphasis isn’t going to change the fact—”
“Fact? You want facts? These are the facts,” Soleta said. “Fact: Morgan Primus is dead. The creature that’s taken up residence in the computer system of the Excalibur is a delusional computer program.