SYMBOLS

CHAPTER 59

"You were right, Doc. It's almost completely disappeared." Eager to return to the helm, Tom Paris was back in sickbay for the third day in succession. He was sure he'd get the all clear this time. With his left arm tugging at his naked right shoulder, he peered at the fading Alum bird mark and at the thin white line the Doctor had exchanged for the thick black underscore previously burned into his skin, courtesy of the High Councilor.

Masson's disrupter stun had certainly been potent, but with three days to rest and recover from the lingering disorientation and the other wounds he'd suffered on Anawa, Paris was keen to get back to the bridge.

"You may resume light duties, Lieutenant," the Doctor responded to Tom's continued badgering. "How about wiping down a few biobeds for starters?"

His words followed closely on Paris' heels.

"Doctor, I'm a medic, not a mop!" Tom shouted, as the sickbay door slid closed behind him.

The Doctor turned and inspected his unusually empty sickbay. He walked back towards his desk and pulled down a picture he'd stuck up on the wall. It was something Tayna had presented to him after their lesson together.

The Captain had returned from the away mission on Anawa with an assortment of physical injuries and a classic case of empty arms syndrome. He'd diagnosed it the moment she'd spied the child's picture. Her distress and sadness were well masked, but indisputable from the elevated readings on his medical tricorder. It was still early days. Noticing her reaction, he'd insisted she take a couple of days off as soon as possible, and for once, she hadn't disagreed. She'd even willingly spent her first night back on Voyager in sickbay. That was when he knew there was something seriously wrong.

He offered to help her remove the portable bed from her quarters and asked whether she wanted assistance packing away Tayna's belongings. Although there were several treatment options for her symptoms, he had to admit that, to his knowledge, there was only one definitive cure for empty arms. She had rubbed her fingers silently over her forehead at his suggestion - the one thing he couldn't help her with - when he tried to tactfully broach the subject.

Later Janeway had turned feisty and vehemently insisted she was perfectly capable of recycling the child's things herself and the idea of filling her arms with another child was, well... "Doctor, correct me if I'm wrong. It has been a while... But you seem to have overlooked a couple of small details. One - it's entirely impractical. And two - you have to have sex to get pregnant, or have you forgotten the basics of reproduction!" She'd shouted the words at him, waving her arms around with true Janeway flair, before she stormed out of sickbay, almost knocking a stunned Neelix off his feet as she ploughed past him through the doorway. At least she hadn't lost her gumption.

The Doctor kept his thoughts to himself. He felt she deserved an intimate relationship, preferably with a lover who wasn't confined to Fair Haven, but someone she could fall back on in the hardest times. Seventy years in the Delta Quadrant, thirty years, another six years, however long it took them to get home, it was a long time to be alone. Starfleet would see the reality and accept the extenuating circumstances of their journey. Protocol was not the real barrier that kept her unattached. She was just frightened of letting herself get too close to anyone, in case she lost them.

Time would be her best healer. Time would also tell whether her maternal instincts would some day prevail over her iron will of resolve. But for now, he would monitor her for the various stages of grief. It seemed she was rapidly cycling through anger and denial.

As he relaxed in solitude, he studied the child's painting. The background was filled with obscure shapes and colors. There were green hills and gray streets. He could see a tall tower with red sentinels on top, and in the sky was the ominous black spider-like space station, while in the center of the painting she'd drawn two figures - one in a long white dress and the other colored in black and green. They were easily recognizable. They were holding hands and both were smiling. He filed the painting in a drawer for safe keeping. It was the nicest thank you he had ever received.

"Computer, deactivate EMH," the Doctor spoke, then faded away.

***

Janeway stood outside her quarters. She couldn't avoid them forever, even though she knew what awaited her on the inside. It wasn't the mess she was worried about, it was everything else. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she tapped in her access code and the door slid open.

Inside, Tuvok stood in the middle of the room, two picture frames clasped in his hands. Her quarters were spotless.

"How did you get in here?" Janeway challenged him.

"Security clearance Tuvok one three... "

"I get the picture." Janeway cut him off. "What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Neelix mentioned the state of disarray." Tuvok's eyebrows tweaked slightly with the words. "I turned chaos into order."

Janeway glanced around the tidy space. Tuvok had been in her quarters maybe a dozen times before. Yet she could see all the items had been returned to their original places, exactly where they had stood for years.

"Where is everything?" she asked, as she peered into her restored bedroom. She glanced down at the indentations in the carpet, left behind from the portable bed.

"Superfluous items have been recycled. Mr. Neelix has reclaimed his rather unique family heirloom."

Everything was gone. There wasn't a trace of her left, other than the dents in the carpet, and given a couple of hours, they would be gone too.

Janeway walked around the room taking in Tuvok's handiwork. He must have been there all night. Suddenly she stopped still, picking up the vase on her side table. She turned it over in her hands. It was a very close replica of the one Neelix had broken, almost identical, almost perfect in every way, except it was missing the tiny chip.

"I chipped it when I was little. It's missing now," Janeway said softly. "I was running through my grandmother's house and I bumped into the dresser. The vase fell over and it chipped. I felt really bad because I knew it was her favorite one. But instead of scolding me, she gave me the vase to keep... as a reminder not to run in her house!" Janeway smiled from the memory.

Tuvok studied the vase that she had returned to the side table.

"Some things are irreplaceable," Tuvok said. "Not because of their physical form, but because of all the memories they reflect." With the words, he walked over to the doorway.

"Thank you, Tuvok," Janeway said. She meant it sincerely.

The door opened and then slid closed behind him.

Kathryn wandered around her quarters, marveling at the neatness. Finally she sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the telltale dents in the carpet. She truly appreciated her Vulcan friend's wisdom. Silently she pondered Tuvok's words... She couldn't replace Tayna with another child. It wouldn't be the same. Not because they mightn't look like each other, but because of all the memories the little girl reflected. Somehow she would just have to learn to live with the memories.