To Lose the Earth
Thank you for downloading this Simon & Schuster ebook.
Get a FREE ebook when you join our mailing list. Plus, get updates on new releases, deals, recommended reads, and more from Simon & Schuster. Click below to sign up and see terms and conditions.
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
Already a subscriber? Provide your email again so we can register this ebook and send you more of what you like to read. You will continue to receive exclusive offers in your inbox.
Publisher’s Notice
The publisher has provided this ebook to you without Digital Rights Management (DRM) software applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This ebook is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this ebook, or make this ebook publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce, or upload this ebook except to read it on your personal devices.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this ebook you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: simonandschuster.biz/online_piracy_report.
For John Van Citters. He knows what he did.
“To lose the earth you know, for greater knowing; to lose the life you have, for greater life; to leave the friends you love, for greater loving; to find a land more kind than home, more large than earth.”
—Thomas Wolfe
HISTORIAN’S NOTE
Admiral Kathryn Janeway leads the Full Circle Fleet—Voyager, Vesta, Galen, and Demeter—on a mission of exploration in the Delta Quadrant. Many things have changed since a lone, lost Starship Voyager was trying to find her way home. The fleet is charged with discovering what has changed in the Delta Quadrant since Voyager was last here and the ultimate power in the quadrant, the Borg, departed.
This story takes place in September 2382, immediately following the events of the novel Star Trek: Voyager—Architects of Infinity.
Prologue
PERSONAL LOG: LIEUTENANT HARRY KIM
You almost died today.
So did your mom and I. A few hours ago, if you told me we would all still be here and I’d have time to sit for a few minutes and tell you about it, I don’t think I would have believed it. This day started as the worst I’ve ever had in my life, and given the fact that I live and work in space, where a lot of things can and often do go very wrong, that’s saying a lot.
Um… I’m your dad. Harry. Harry Kim. But you should probably call me Dad. When I was seven I spent two weeks calling my dad Pops because one of my friends at school asked me why my dad was so much older than his. I didn’t understand anything then about my parents other than how much they loved me, but I was embarrassed by anything that made me different from the other kids. Kids can be really cruel to each other. You probably already know that but in case you don’t, fair warning. We all face different challenges and everybody’s situation is unique, but when you’re seven, and for a lot of years after that, all you want to do is be just like everyone else, so the “Why is your dad so old?” thing really bothered me. I decided to pretend like it didn’t bother me—another thing kids do—and somehow in my little kid brain just acknowledging the problem seemed to make it better. Like, I knew my dad was older than a lot of the other dads but I was cool with it. He was my Pops.
It didn’t last long. My dad finally asked me why I didn’t call him “Dad” anymore and my face started to feel really warm in that not good way that tells you you’ve done or said something dumb and I blurted out something about how it was not okay that he had waited so long to have me.
The look on his face, the sudden sadness—nothing rocks a kid’s world like seeing one of your parents cry—and I swear, he was about to do just that. Then he told me that people don’t always get to decide when to have a child. Children come when they are ready. He and my mom had waited… for me.
I’m not as old now as my dad was when I was born, but in case you ever wonder why I’m so old, it’s because before I met your mom, I didn’t know anyone I wanted to share my life with and make a family. And when you came along, I didn’t want anything more than you and your mom and our little family.
But I didn’t sit down to record this log to tell you all of that. All I wanted to tell you, really, is that you’re the reason I’m still alive right now. And that’s something that has never happened to me before. I face death a lot. It’s part of the job. Most of the time the spark inside me, the white-hot thing at the center of my soul that stays lit even when everything else is going dark, is fueled by the simple terror of ceasing to exist. Once in a while, it is kindled by the fear in the eyes of the people I’ve come to think of as my family, the crew I work with day in and day out. But the thing I know now that I didn’t know when this day started is that because you exist, because you are now part of my universe, what used to be a spark is now roughly the size of a newborn star.
Also, don’t call me Pops. Anything else you like… Dad, Daddy, Father—no, that’s weird—but you know, whatever, we can talk about it. Or, yeah, call me Pops. I don’t know. You’re only a few weeks old. Maybe I shouldn’t start making decisions for you