Veronica Jane Williams
xkhoi@iafrica.com

To the Reader. 

AN INTRODUCTION

Please read this introduction to "Diary of a Madwoman."  I will 
place various WARNINGS along the way. If you've passed the last 
WARNING, then you are ready to proceed with the reading of this
tale.

WARNING: This story is a "what if" story based on the episode
"NIGHT". In this "what if" scenario, I posed the question: "What
if Kathryn Janeway got her way and remained in the void, like she
suggested to Chakotay? Kathryn Janeway gets her way. The plan
Chakotay and the senior crew came up with, I changed liberally.
The options they discussed would leave only one answer: someone
would have to be on the inside to destroy the vortex. Kathryn 
destroys the spatial vortex after Voyager has gone through. She 
will remain in the void. 

Exit from this point if you feel you can't proceed.

The ordinary things we don't think of. Paris asks: "how will you
survive in the void?"

WARNING: 
For this story I have revived the shuttle Sacajawea. The STE lists
the shuttle as having crashed only (in Coda), and not destroyed.

The shuttle Sacajawea is fitted out to ensure survival. The aft 
section contains, amongst others, a bed, a mirror, ablution
alcove, replicator. Weird, do you think? As Janeway said to Harry
once: "Weird is part of the job."

Exit from this point if you feel you can't proceed.

WARNING: Kathryn Janeway will travel alone in the Sacajawea for
a while. For company, she has programmed the shuttle's computer
to become "sentient", to have a personality. We know that Kathryn,
as a brilliant scientist, has the ability to effect such a 
procedure. This computer will talk to her, have conversations with
her.

Exit from this point if you feel you can't proceed.

WARNING: Believe it or not, there is an NC-17 section in this 
story. 

Exit from this point if you feel you can't proceed.

WARNING: Kathryn has named her computer for a god in Norse
mythology. There will therefore be references throughout the story
to certain mythological symbols and characters. At the end of this
introduction there is a "What the reader should know about the
references to mythology and some other things." You may not 
like mythology.

Exit from this point if you feel you can't proceed.

WARNING: The title gives you an indication of the protagonist's
state of mind. Given Kathryn Janeway's disposition in "Night",
her depression, feelings of guilt, etc., I have sort of built on
this. If after two months in the void ABOARD Voyager, with
her crew there, she hides in her cabin and stays in darkness,
well then...

Exit from this point if you feel you can't proceed.

Continue if all of the above warnings have intrigued you.

WHAT THE READER SHOULD KNOW:

1. Kathryn has named her computer WOTAN.

In Norse mythology Wotan ( Odin in Norse, Wotan in German and Woden
in Anglo-Saxon) is the god of the gods. He is generally referred to
as the All-Father. (In Greek and Roman mythology the equivalent of
Zeus and Jupiter). 

I have used the reference of Wotan (war-tuhn ) as a main character 
in two of RICHARD WAGNER'S Operas. These operas form part of 
Wagner's famous NIBELUNGEN RING, a cycle of four operas starting 
with:

1. Das Rheingold (The Rhinegold)
2. Die Walküre   (The Valkyrie)
3. Siegfried.
4. Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the gods)

In the two operas Wotan's character appears with an eye-patch. He
is god of the gods, who represents the inner consciousness, the 
father-figure, the leader. Brünnhilde (Brynhilde) is a warrior
who heads the Valkyries; she is also Wotan's favoured "daughter".

It is this character, Wotan, who will be Kathryn's companion in 
the story.

2. What is the Nibelungen? And the Ring?

In Norse mythology the Nibelungen was a place of darkness, mists 
and obscurity. The creatures (dwarfs) who dwelled in this 
"underworld" were the Nibelungs, led by Alberich. The nature of 
this place will lead Kathryn to refer to the void and its 
inhabitants as Nibelungen.

Although the inhabitants were never named in the episode, I have 
given their race a name.

3. The Ring. 

It was the ring fashioned from gold stolen by Alberich from the 
Rhine-maidens, then stolen from him by Wotan. In the operas the 
Ring represents greed, evil, power, and unity, a symbol that will 
be featured in the story. 

4. Wotan (the computer) is a character. See in the story how this
character interacts with Janeway. He will refer to her by many
names. Bear with me.

5. All sources used will be indicated at the end of the story. 

6. The title: The title was borrowed, great courtesy from the play
"Diary of a Madman" by Russian author, Nikolai Gogol. There is
further no resemblance to the contents of that play. It bears no
relation at all to the 1963 film, "Diary of a Madman" which was
again based on a novel, "The Horla"  by French author Guy 
Du Maupassant. 

Any more information will create foreshadowing. Therefore, dear
reader, I thank you for your patience in reading the introduction.

You may proceed>

Veronica Jane Williams.

**********

Title:   Diary of a Madwoman
Author:  Veronica Jane Williams
Contact: xkhoi@iafrica.com
Series:  Voyager
Part:    1/7 NEW
Rating:  NC-17
Codes:   J/C, J, Computer (Wotan)

SUMMARY: In this story, a "what if" scenario on the episode "Night" 
Janeway remains in the void and sends Voyager, led by Chakotay, 
through the spatial vortex. Traveling alone in the void becomes for 
her a journey which tests her endurance, and her sanity.

Date Posted: 30 August 1999

Archive info: ASC 

Comments: Comments or commentary, fine.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager, the shuttle Sacajawea, Janeway 
and Chakotay. I created the sentient character Wotan, Janeway's 
computer; also introducing Kru'dan and Roya, two inhabitants of the 
void.

My gracious appreciation to Monique Cline, who betaread this story 
for me. I am indeed very grateful that she could, in spite of her 
busy schedule, execute a truly thorough job in the editing of 
"Diary", as we've come to call it. Her patience, her honesty in 
really questioning some of my ideas, advice and recommendations 
have gone a long way to getting this story finally to posting 
stage. 

*******************************************************************

DIARY OF A MADWOMAN

PART ONE

The void - deep and dark...eerie in its very obscurity. An 
expanse of ceaseless black through which a ship moved, yet never 
felt movement. There was nothing that could give the weary 
traveler even the faintest hint that he was somewhere, that
there was at least a point of destination, heralded perhaps by a
shining star, or a nebula, or a cosmic horizon. There was no sun 
that rose and set to determine for the traveler or the inhabitant 
of the void the birth of a new day; or a full moon that would reach 
its fullness again a cycle later, that could give the pilgrim a 
sense of time. No clouds, no seasons, no horizons... 

It was night, eternal.

The darkness enveloped the ship, and like the sun on a balmy day, 
it was bathed, though in a cloak of sinister proportions. The night
clung to its crew and evoked even in the hardiest and most 
courageous person a sense of being trapped, like an animal. A 
claustrophobic feeling when it seemed to the traveler that black 
walls were closing in... Rather than fill him with fear or some 
macabre apprehension of pending dangers, it instilled in the 
traveler a great hopelessness; a despairing feeling that he would 
traverse this infinite expanse, this place of moonless murkiness 
forever in his desperate quest to reach his home. The inhabitants
of this dark place did not experience these feelings; they were 
accustomed to the gloom.

It was a place of great silences for how, the crew of the ship 
thought, could there be sound when there was nothing? This void was
an emptiness that seeped into their bones so that they themselves 
appeared to merge with their surroundings. It was possible that a
crewmember, pausing to take a deep breath, could hear indeed a 
sound - the beat of his heart or the throbbing of his pulse. It was 
possible that a noise made by one, like dropping a spoon on the 
floor of the ship's mess hall, could magnify in the stillness and 
sound like the crack of lightning. It was possible that in the 
stillness of the night, a person's breathing, a soft footfall on 
the carpeted corridors of the ship could register as mere...echoes 
of the void.

Such was the fate of the Federation Starship USS Voyager as it
continued on its lonely quest for home. Like a ghostly apparition, 
the ship sailed silently in the deathly stillness of perpetual 
darkness. It made no sound as it moved in its quest to reach the 
end of the void, an arduous trek of two long years. Its lights 
dimmed, Voyager moved forward cutting the darkness - a dart 
speeding, yet appearing not to speed. For its occupants - the crew 
of this valiant and intrepid ship - the ship became a claustrophobic 
prison which caused some to experience panic attacks, "fear of 
nothingness"; others felt the oppressive gloom too much, their 
nerves fraying badly at the edges. Lovers quarreled over every 
slight infraction, some of the crew became morose, and others 
played plaintive, mournful tunes on their clarinets. And, although 
there were those who tried their best to keep the morale of the 
crew raised, it was the ship's captain whose disposition during the 
first two months of their journey in the void begged the most 
discussion.

Voyager’s crew thought that Kathryn Janeway was seriously 
depressed. They knew she kept to her quarters exclusively, and that 
her quarters (according to their first officer and relayed via the 
ship's effective grapevine) was shrouded, as it were, in complete 
darkness. Like the ship moving through the void enshrouded in 
gloom, her darkened quarters became a metaphor, they said, for the 
captain's state of mind. The gloom suited her present mood, some 
crew thought, but whether the void caused the Captain's mood or it 
merely exacerbated an existing one, everyone agreed that this 
state of affairs could not continue.

Of the senior officers, Commander Chakotay was the most concerned. 
He continually tried to encourage the captain to join him in a  
holodeck game to "get her mind off things", and keep her from 
dwelling too much on what both he and Tuvok thought were 
"unnecessary corrosive emotions such as guilt and remorse."  
Naturally, the Captain told her First Officer in the nicest way 
possible where to get off, if not in the void. She was bent on 
wallowing in her guilt. When Chakotay expressed his concern to 
Tuvok about the Captain’s reclusive behaviour, the Security Chief
told him that the Captain experienced guilt which "has been her 
constant companion." 

In typical Vulcan fashion, Tuvok, in response to Chakotay's 
surprised, "She *told* you?" replied: "I have studied her behaviour 
these last four years."

*

Kathryn Janeway, having learned that Emck, the Malon, was 
responsible for dumping radioactive waste - the Malon having 
adopted  a mentality of "it is the perfect site for dumping, 
there's no one here"  -  resolved to help the Susurra. Tuvok and 
Chakotay tried their best to dissuade the Captain from adopting a 
method that they felt, was foolhardy.

They proved no match for the Captain's implacability as she swept 
their opposition aside with ice-cold, ruthless tenacity. Their 
concerns were voiced at a time when they learned that the 
existence, culture and livelihood of the inhabitants of the dark 
were threatened by an alien race called the Malon. To be more 
specific, when Voyager happened upon one representative of that 
race whose activities threatened the Susurran's - for that was what 
the void's inhabitants were called - continued survival. For a very 
long time the Malon used Susurran space to dump radio-active waste 
there on the assumption that no one lived there. The void *was* 
inhabited, and the Susurra were slowly dying of radio-active 
poisoning as a result of the thoughtless actions of the Malon. 

These ancient dwellers, the Susurra, having lived in the void for 
millions of years, had evolved to survive there. They were a race 
that possessed some form of transporter technology, and the ability
to cloak their ships. Or, it could just have been that they merged 
so completely with their surroundings that their sudden appearance 
could give the impression of having been cloaked. That was why at 
first, Voyager's crew was unaware that the void was inhabited, and 
were extremely surprised when some Susurra found their way aboard 
Voyager. These inhabitants perceived Voyager as a threat and shut 
down the ship's energy sources. It made Janeway sit up for once 
when the ship was suddenly thrown in total darkness.

Once again the dilemma Kathryn Janeway faced when she destroyed 
the array to save the Ocampa, presented itself in another, not 
altogether dissimilar form. The need to be of help to the 
inhabitants of the void became her one magnificent obsession, an 
opportunity to, in some way make, amends for what she perceived as 
a selfish act: stranding her crew in the Delta Quadrant. 

It must be said here that Kathryn Janeway spent the two months
they had traveled in the void, brooding over the decision she made 
to destroy the Caretaker's array, an act that stranded Voyager in
the Delta Quadrant. She was, as Tuvok stated, guilt-ridden, a 
feeling that increased as each day passed in the void, each day the 
same, each hour the same. It was a brooding she could not shake 
off. She refused to leave her quarters, leaving the running of the 
ship to Chakotay, always on the understanding though, that Kathryn 
was really still making all the decisions. So, with this 
contradiction, Kathryn Janeway shrouded herself in darkness, 
allowing her guilt and her remorse to flourish in her darkened 
heart. She blamed herself and could not forgive herself. She did 
not believe that she could be redeemed for these actions, and where 
before she could draw on her own inner strength and beliefs, the 
darkness around her proved too much. And always, unspoken, the need 
to forgive herself, to find absolution; something which would 
instill in her a deep sense of peace.

The Malon freighter entered the void through a spatial vortex, and 
to prevent Emck from using the void as a dumping ground and 
continue killing the Susurra, Voyager had to neutralise him, or, if 
necessary, kill him. They could do this by closing the vortex 
situated inside the void. The spatial vortex also had one major 
advantage to the Voyager crew: once they proceeded through, it 
would save them from the hellish two years they would have to spend 
traveling the entire distance through the void before they could 
see a cloud once again. 

For the Susurra, this ghost ship called Voyager became first a 
threat, then a curiosity, then a saviour. Naturally, the rescuer
in Janeway kicked in. She wanted to help the aliens, but it meant 
Voyager would be stranded in the void for two years were they to 
close the vortex at its weakest end. 

She did not take long to agonise over this decision, though. In 
fact, her mind had been made up. She would help the Susurra and
Voyager by destroying the Malon freighter, letting Voyager go 
through the vortex, and then close the vortex. This meant that 
Captain Janeway would remain in the void for at least the amount of 
time it would have taken Voyager to reach the end of it. In this 
way she could atone for her heinous deed of making a selfish 
decision for the crew - as their Captain. 

Kathryn insisted that her solution was the only possible way of 
saving their new friends, getting the crew home, and gaining a 
measure of expiation. She did not want to be responsible for 
making a decision that would strand them all again. She had 
maintained incessantly that it was "*I* who made the decision 
for all of *you*", that it was "*I* who decided to destroy the 
array", and therefore "*I* must take the responsibility alone for 
my actions". Such was her pain, her dilemma, her guilt, her 
remorse; so much so that her decision to remain behind in the 
void and destroy the Malon freighter and close the spatial vortex 
forever, had been seen by many as a noble sacrifice to her 
magnificent obsession to find absolution. Captain Janeway’s 
decision was made and her crew had to abide by it. Voyager would 
go through the vortex and sail on home, finding any means possible 
to do so in the quickest way. That was the solemn promise Kathryn
Janeway made and the silent vow they made to honour that promise. 

Voyager's First Officer didn't want to accept this decision by the
Captain and made a last desperate attempt to get Kathryn Janeway 
to change her mind. Their last conversation would remain with both 
Captain Kathryn Janeway and Commander Chakotay for a very long 
time.

****

"Kathryn, you don't have to do this. We're all in this together,"
Chakotay's voice rang out in the darkness of her cabin. 

She had still been standing in silhouette, but now she moved towards 
him, and in the faint light where he was standing he could see the
firm set of her jaw, the resolve. When she spoke, it was through 
clenched teeth, the words and sounds expressed as though she never
opened her mouth.

"Through whose fault, Chakotay?" she asked with a dangerous edge
to her voice. "Whose fault indeed?"

"No one's, Kathryn. We accepted your leadership and you have made
this ship a home for us - "

"It didn't have to be!" she stated heatedly, her cheeks suddenly
flaming as she advanced on him, about to poke him in the chest. Then 
she backed away suddenly, not wanting any physical contact with him.

Chakotay reached for her, but his hand slumped again when he saw
her withdrawal. 

"An entire race needed us, Kathryn. We saw their need and wanted 
to - no, had to - help. That is *us*, Captain. That is who we are.
That is who *you* are!" he countered with great feeling. 

Chakotay felt how he was losing ground in this argument, but he 
feared she was about to make a sacrifice borne out of her perceived 
guilt. A sacrifice that was unnecessary, he thought.

"I stranded all of us in this quadrant, for the rest of our lives. 
It didn't have to be, Commander. It didn't have to be! I will not 
let it happen again," she said heatedly. "I will not let it happen 
again," she repeated with feeling. 

He could see how impassioned she was, yet at the same time he had 
this feeling that Kathryn Janeway had made up her mind long before 
he came to consult with her. And, as usual, all she needed from him
was confirmation of her decision. As usual, all he ever offered was 
some damned token resistance, he thought with self-disgust. A 
useless first officer, that's what he was. , he 
thought as he imagined he saw the wheels turning inside Kathryn 
Janeway's head.

"You are an able leader, Commander. Able to captain this ship and
take the crew home," she said finally. He noticed how she said
*the crew* and not *my crew*. Already she was distancing herself
from her crew, her home, her family. In her mind, she had already
bid them farewell. His heart bled. But, he tried again:

"What about *us*, Kathryn?"  His voice was soft now, with an
entreating sound to it. He wanted her to remember everything they
meant to each other, everything that was still there between them.

"Us, Chakotay?" 

"Yes, Kathryn. *Us*. As in everything you mean to me and everything
I mean to you - "

"There is no *us*, Chakotay. Not now. Not now that this task awaits 
us. Don't you understand? It transcends mere common things such as 
thinking about *us*. I will not let it come before my goal, 
Commander. And yours, ultimately. Get Voyager home. I'll destroy 
the Malon freighter and close the spatial vortex from this end."

"No! No, you can't!" he pleaded, taking her by the shoulders, but
she broke free violently, her eyes burning into him. "Do you realise
what this could mean, Kathryn?" he asked desperately, a sob escaping
from him.

"I have already prepared a type two shuttle with three photon 
torpedoes. In thirty minutes I will board the shuttle and leave
Voyager - "

"You can't be serious, Kathryn. There has to be a few more options
we haven't considered," he said with some exasperation, throwing 
his hands up. He tried again to stall her, but she continued. Her 
hands were on her hips in a familiar gesture, as if she were on the 
bridge barking out orders.

"There is no better option than the present one, Chakotay. No 
better one. I have stranded you in this godforsaken quadrant, and 
now the opportunity is there for you to get out of this void - "

"No, Kathryn. The opportunity is there for us - all of us to get 
out of this void - "

"And leave the Susurra at the mercy of the Malon? Leave them to
die, one by one, until they are all gone?" She sounded outraged.

"You will be here longer than two years, Kathryn. That shuttle - "

"I am aware of the shuttle's warp capabilities, Commander," she
stated firmly. "Inform the crew of my decision," she added. Her 
words brooked no argument.

That was when, as he looked with some desperation for an opening, 
a solution, Chakotay noticed the bareness of Kathryn Janeway's
quarters. Most of the personal items she had collected on their 
journey were missing. He knew without asking her that her 
belongings were already on the shuttle. Everything he knew she 
would need to survive here in the void was already prepared. Yet he 
moved in her quarters, opening drawers only to find them empty - 
clothes, her books, everything gone. It was a distraught Chakotay 
who turned on Kathryn Janeway, grabbed her by her shoulders and 
hauled her into his arms. His great anger was tinged at the same 
time with fear, and passion. Everything he felt in those moments, 
every waking moment's emotion, like the deep rumbling of the 
ocean’s undercurrents, burst forth and sprayed over them as his 
mouth bore down on hers. He ground his lips into hers, plunged his 
tongue into her mouth so deep that the desire welled in both of 
them, heating them up. His need was raw as he bit and kissed and 
nipped and tasted. Wave upon wave of ecstasy burned through them as 
they were catapulted into a strange maelstrom of passion.

The kiss ended eventually, with Kathryn Janeway gasping as she was 
pushed away from him.

"I - I can't leave you here, Kathryn. Don't do this. Don't do this 
to us," he pleaded. 

"Chakotay," she said softly, "this is no time for debate. I'll be
leaving soon. You know what your task is -"

"Dammit, Kathryn!"  Even as he uttered this invective, he realised
it was over. He felt the ridiculous sting of tears, felt the same 
great depth of loss he felt when she had nearly died and he 
screamed her name to the heavens that she must breathe. His lips 
trembled, and he felt his hands shaking.

Her stance, her very demeanour, the set of her shoulders, the 
resolve in her eyes, bespoke a cool and rational decision made. 
As convinced as he was the she was making a calamitous decision, 
so was Kathryn convinced that her plan of action was the only plan, 
the only solution. He wanted to think she was hysterical, or 
incoherent. But Kathryn Janeway stood before him, and she was 
anything but irrational. Her decision was one rooted in the firm 
belief that her plan would work. That impression, that unspoken 
statement of fact registered upon his distraught mind.   

Kathryn Janeway looked at Chakotay and her decision to remain in 
the void became to him an accusation - a pointing of the finger 
at him. He saw the look in her eyes and knew that she was 
completely, utterly calm; that he could no longer try to penetrate
the resolve in her eyes, her heart, her mind. He knew it was
impossible to offer any more objections. Other than Voyager and her
crew staying in the void, all the possible options he had discussed 
with the senior crew resulted every time, in one solution: one 
would stay behind. And, in the end, he admitted at last with a sigh 
of capitulation: she *was* the Captain. 

Chakotay was unable to conceal his distress and heartache as he 
realised that he could no more convince his captain to change her 
mind from such foolhardiness than he could stop the passage of 
time. Kathryn was cool, calm and utterly clear thinking. Chakotay
thought how history had proved that the most insane persons in the
universe could present themselves to the world around them as 
upstanding citizens. No, he admitted, Kathryn was rational.

"Inform the crew," she instructed him. He stood there, wavering.
She could see he was trying to control his fury, for that was what
she knew he felt; it was in the way his jaw clenched, the way his
dimples disappeared, in the way his tattoo seemed to glower - it 
really looked more pronounced. 

They faced off like that for several long moments. Then Chakotay
looked around him, trying in those dying moments to find some tack,
something with which he could fight back. He shook his head in 
disbelief, in agony, in grief... Then he straightened up, and it
seemed as if he clicked his heels. His pitch black eyes glowered.
She reflected absently that she could trace every line and curve
of his tattoo.

"This is not the end, Kathryn Janeway," he promised. "I swear, by 
God! I swear I will see you again. I will not rest Kathryn Janeway. 
I will not rest."  Chakotay paused to draw breath, then added with 
passionate entreaty in his voice: "Because you, Kathryn Janeway,
have robbed me of my rest."

"Commander."

"Captain."

He paused only momentarily, but it was enough for Kathryn Janeway 
to see him clench and unclench his fists. Then, he turned on his 
heels and was gone before Kathryn Janeway could react to his 
impassioned tirade.

She looked at the door for so long that she had to shake her head 
to remind herself of the mammoth task that lay ahead of her. That 
was when she noticed something lying on the floor. She bent down 
to pick up the shiny object. It was a ring she held in her hand, 
a gold band that had been simply wrought. She twisted it between 
her fingers in some deeply thoughtful manner and the words of some 
months ago came swirling back into her memory:

"You are my perfect mate, Kathryn. We make a good team. Perhaps 
one day..." 

She had wanted Chakotay to continue, but then they were alerted to 
some ship's emergency. He had taken her one more time in his arms 
and kissed her. When he let her go, he said:

"We'll talk again, my sweet Kathryn..." She remembered that look in 
his eyes that bespoke a beautiful promise. 

Then they hit the void.

And Kathryn began the descent into hell.

***

As Kathryn Janeway looked, for one last time, at what had been her 
home for four years, she gave a deep sigh, slid the ring on her 
finger and hurriedly left her quarters. She greeted those 
crewmembers she met in the corridors on her way to the shuttle 
bays. 

What they could see in her bearing was their Captain going to her
doom to save the dwellers of the dark, and to save the crew and 
Voyager the two years they would have stayed in the void. They 
saluted her as she passed them, knowing that they might never see 
her again. No one spoke. 

As she moved past them, they nodded, then went about preparing to 
help her defend the vortex and save the world. She would indeed be 
redeemed.

***********

Acting Captain's Log: Stardate 52506.1

We have made it safely through the spatial vortex 
and cut the journey through the void by two years. 
In order to ensure that the existence and culture 
of the Susurra not be destroyed by the Malon, 
Captain Janeway and the crew felt it was necessary 
to destroy the vortex. In a bold move, Captain 
Kathryn Janeway decided to stay behind and destroy 
the vortex at it weakest end to ensure that no 
Malon enter the void in order to dump the 
radioactive waste which has proven deadly to the 
Susurra. 

We are continuing our journey home without Captain 
Janeway. We will honour her solemn promise to get 
home, to find any means of cutting our journey short. 
The officers and crew of this vessel have all joined 
in a pledge to return and bring Captain Kathryn 
Janeway home. 

end log.

*****************

END PART ONE
TBC Part 2/7


DIARY OF A MADWOMAN

PART TWO

Day 90

The shuttle Sacajawea ploughed the darkness: a small bug in an
infinite expanse of black. Its lights were dimmed, and with
its colours of Federation standard white with red bars, the Susurra
watched with interest as the shuttle plodded its way through their
space. The Susurra who had evolved here and adapted to the darkness, 
could see every movement of the tiny vessel, could see every line 
and word of the Federation insignia. Whenever its sole occupant 
moved in the small confines of her craft, they could see her through
the viewports on it port and starboard sides.

She did not know that the Susurra kept a watchful eye on her. They 
knew of the magnificent sacrifice she had made to help them. She 
had let her crew sail home and elected to stay behind. It was 
Kru'dan, who had been on the vessel called Voyager, who told them 
of the courage of this human female. Kru'dan told them of the 
immense power of this human woman who looked very small compared 
to her fellow crewmembers, but who had great strength and courage. 
Kru'dan's life was saved by this Captain Janeway, and he had been 
deeply affected by the crew of the vessel Voyager. They were not 
the enemies his people feared. The crew of Voyager had shown them 
only friendship and had willingly offered to assist them in the 
fight against the Malon. Therefore, without her knowing it, Kathryn 
Janeway became someone the Susurrans protected, and from time to 
time, they communicated with her to enquire about things she might 
need. They had a well developed communications network, letting 
others of their race, who lived in more distant sectors of the 
void, know about the approach of a lonely shuttlecraft with its 
single and equally lonely occupant. 

They began to notice things though... 

"Kru'dan," his friend asked, as they followed the Sacajawea from 
a distance, "do you think it is normal for humans to converse with 
themselves?"

"You are speaking of the Captain of a magnificent starship, Roya,"
Kru'dan retorted. "If she talks to herself, surely she is entitled
to do so? Who knows, it is perhaps her way of coping with her 
isolation, the way they do things when they travel alone..."

"I do not think so. I do not think it is normal."

"We are not human, Roya. These visitors from a faraway place... 

"The Alpha Quadrant, Kru'dan?" 

Kru'dan looked at Roya in mild exasperation. His younger companion
was constantly trying to show his prowess to his superior. 

"Yes," he said and nodded at the same time. His eyes were bulgy
and, like all the Susurra, he appeared to lisp, "...these visitors, 
we have seen, are eccentric. They do things we are not familiar 
with."

"Like talking to yourself?" Roya dared ask. Kru'dan was his 
superior and he had to respect his superior's decisions, but ....

He tried again. 

"Did you know, Kru'dan, that Captain Janeway calls us the - the - "

"Nibelungen..." Kru'dan sighed. He gave Roya a longsuffering stare,
but could not decide whether the younger man was baiting him 
deliberately, or whether it was just Roya's phenomenal ability to
appear engagingly stupid. "Yes...although I am not aware of the
significance of the name..." He turned his attention to the 
consoles in front of him. Then he looked up and stared at Captain 
Janeway's shuttle.

They could see through the shuttle's viewports how Kathryn Janeway
moved about with nervous energy, gesticulating frantically at 
times, then becoming thoughtful. They saw her standing with one 
hand on her hip, and the other against her chin, exactly as though 
she were thinking or planning what to say or do next.

Because her shuttle's lights were dimmed, Kru'dan's vessel never 
attempted to move in closer to her. For one, they did not deem it 
prudent to invade her privacy - another of these humans' 
idiosyncrasies, Roya thought - and for another, much more practical 
reason: their eyes were so photosensitive that they dared not 
venture closer. Light, however subdued it was, tended to blind 
them. Millennia in the void gave them  - what was the word Captain 
Janeway used when they last communicated with her? - "cat's eyes". 
They would be able to see her even if her shuttle's interior were 
in total darkness. The Sacajawea was completely dark, with perhaps 
just the lights on the conn panel throwing her into relief.

Kru'dan paused for long minutes, looking pensively through the 
viewscreen of their small craft. He was watching the Captain; she 
appeared to be pacing, then throwing her arms up. A few times, she 
would vanish from her viewport, then suddenly appear again. An idea 
formed in his mind.

"Roya." 

"Yes, Kru'dan?"

"We will follow her for the rest of her journey and monitor Captain
Janeway's patterns of behaviour, record everything we notice about 
her. Perhaps, in this way, we will be able to assess whether she is 
indeed regressing."

"Do we have to assume her present behaviour as standard, sir?" Roya 
asked, suddenly very formal. His superior had given him a command 
and he did not fail to notice the formality with which it was 
issued.

"Indeed."

"Then we shall proceed, sir," Roya answered, now suddenly more 
alert.

It did not occur to Roya that humans resented "peeping Toms", 
however noble the intentions of these two well-meaning dwellers of 
the dark.

*******

"Computer," Kathryn Janeway asked, her voice tinged with an 
edginess, "who am I?"

"You are Janeway - "

"Who am I?"

"Kathryn Janeway - "

"Computer, before I deactivate you completely for the next forty 
eight hours, who am I?"

"Okay, Janeway, this morning you want the works, right?"

"Yes! Dammit!" she said through clenched teeth, her cheeks gaining
two red blotches as she was about to go into an angry burst of 
temper.

"Tut-tut, Janeway, such language - "

"Who am I?"

There was a pause of exactly five seconds before the computer 
responded. In the confines of the shuttle, Janeway paced 
impatiently. 

"You are who made me. You are who turned me into Artificial 
Intelligence. You are Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation 
Starship USS Voyager."

"Good. Remember that when I speak to you."

"Fine, then remember who I am," the computer retorted. Now, Captain 
Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship USS Voyager, WHO AM I?"

The last words were stressed, said with so much emphasis that 
Kathryn swung from her command seat and turned to the console to 
the left of her. There was a screen, but no image. Damn, she had to 
give him an image today... Perhaps Kahless the Unforgettable... or 
that obnoxious Quark. 

"Okay, Wotan. You won this round. You are Wotan, created by me,
Kathryn Janeway. I named you after Wotan, the god who, in Norse 
Mythology, was the god of the gods, the All-father. You have 
artificial intelligence. The first question you asked was: "What 
is my name?"

"Right, Janeway. So, who made you God?"

"Damn you..."

"Decision maker extraordinaire, megalomaniac par excellence, My 
Brynhilde, imperial Valkyrie of the Nibelungen. Wearer of the 
Ring." 

"That's it, Wotan, you've said enough." She turned back to look at 
the viewscreen. It could just as well have been switched off. There 
was nothing to see... Everyday the same. Every night the same. 

She winced as she heard Wotan's voice ring out in a tune.

"She wears my ringgggg!!!!!"

"Not again, Wotan..."

"She wears my - "

It was suddenly deadly quiet in the shuttle. Wotan blinked for a
nanosecond, then quietly went dead.  Kathryn thought as she stared morosely ahead of her.

"That'll teach you," she said aloud as she turned to the computer
screen, waving her finger menacingly at him. There was no response,
the screen was blank. But she kept on talking as if the panels of 
the computer were still lit. "I don't need you, you know. You are 
a pest!" she said as she swung round in her seat and waved her hand 
again. "I should never have programmed you with all sorts of 
personality subroutines and dialogue parameters. Now you think you 
can get the better of me, me...!"

A shiver went through her. Three months, she thought. . She turned back to 
look at the computer as if she expected a physical manifestation 
of...what? Who? What did she want to hear? Some positive affirmation 
that her actions were spurred by noble intentions? Who did she want 
to hear it from? From this piece of grand irony she programmed that 
was becoming so like a person? A cold, impersonal dead panel of 
multicoloured lights that, when it responded, did so like a full 
blooded person with - oh God, she groaned - emotions. Was that why 
she expected at every small turn she took in the shuttle to see ... 
him? 

She lifted her hand, and in the dim light - her eyes had become 
accustomed to the darkness in the shuttle - the solitary ring 
gleamed on her finger. Her ring finger. How, she thought that first 
day after Voyager slipped through the vortex, could sweet sentiment 
and the grim prospect of staying here for two years become such 
bedfellows? She had taken the ring then, and in a gesture of such 
infinite tenderness, slipped it on her finger. It has remained 
there ever since. After the first month, taking it off had seemed 
sacrilege; it made her feel bare without it. , she 
smiled grimly, a sick irony, to cosset this beautiful, yet simple 
gold ring, a possession among possessions. While Chakotay was 
sitting on the bridge of Voyager, taking the crew home, he was 
unaware that she was wearing his ring. One he had wanted to give 
her that very day Voyager left. His intentions were clear, they 
were noble and honourable. He wanted to marry her.

Now this band and - she groaned with pain - the fob watch he had 
given her for her birthday, were the only tangible reminders of 
what had been between her and Chakotay. It was not easy to forget 
him - she didn't want to forget him. That was why...

She looked at the computer - Wotan - again.  was her
agonised thought as she jerked over to the console and brought 
Wotan to life again.

"Well, Janeway? What took you so long?" Wotan asked. "I was 
off-line for exactly one hour, thirty five minutes and twenty-seven 
seconds," he grumbled.

"Oh Wotan," she smiled sweetly at him. "You do sound like a peevish
child whose brother took away his favourite toy."

"I have no toys, Kathryn," he said softly, his voice becoming 
persuasively indulgent, "and I have no brother..."

"Ah, so now I'm Kathryn, Wotan," she retorted as she fiddled with 
his console, entering a few new parameters and subroutines.

"Only when you are soft, pliant, reliably coherent and rational,"
he cajoled playfully.

"And how, my great Wotan, do you decide when Janeway becomes 
Kathryn?" she said, laughing at him, although she had an idea how 
he did it. 

"You little minx, my own sweet Brynhilde. You want me to stroke 
your little ego when you know full well - "

"Oh, come on, Wotan. What's a little backslapping between friends?"

"I'm your friend?"

"You know you are, you troublesome rescuer of the Nibelungen, 
dwellers of the deep, oh Great Master Keeper of the Ring - "

But Wotan droned on:

"Your body temperature is normal, the average for humans. You have
an increase in your adrenaline levels and your blood rate is 
normal, as I have recorded it over the last thirty days. Although I 
can't see, I know your pupils have dilated 16%. I am recording 
right now your breathing patterns which I can tell you are coming 
in fast and short little gasps. Your cheeks must be flushed. You 
are excited again. Welcome to the world, Kathryn Janeway. For a 
while, you had Wotan searching the database for elixirs for your 
deepened state of depression."

"Thank you Wotan, for your interest in my welfare." Kathryn entered
a few more commands and seconds later, the screen filled with a 
face.

"There now, Wotan, I've programmed your character to call up a 
face. And smile while you compute the six hundred and twenty eight 
different expressions I've entered."

"Oh Kathryn, I'm touched. Who shall I be today, assuming my name 
is still Wotan?" he asked slyly. He was baiting her again. But it 
was necessary if he were to keep Kathryn Janeway alive; keep her
baited and angry long enough for her to respond and surface
from the lethargy and melancholy into which she, from time to time, 
regressed in the last month. He considered it his task, for didn't 
she tell him she needed companionship on her journey through the 
void?

"Who do you want to be?" she asked, excitement building in her. 
She had downloaded the entertainment and literature sections from
Voyager's database into his programme.

Wotan, it seemed, didn't take time to search as she saw a strange
looking creature fill the screen. It had long ears, a very wide 
grin showing two large teeth, and looked very much like a...

"Who the hell are you?" she asked with a frown, but smiling at
the same time.

"Eh...what's up Kathryn?" 

"And you are?"

"Bugs Bunny!" 

"Okay. A talking bunny. You have long ears and a very naughty 
though infectiously engaging smile," she said, patting the screen. 
"And don't bat your eyelids at me." Bugs Bunny stared at her for 
the less than one second it took to search the database before he 
belted like a diva into song:

"Someone's rocking my dreamboat,
someone's invading my dreammmmms!!!!!!!
We were sailing along, peaceful and calm,
suddenly something went wronggggg!!!!!!"

Kathryn burst into a fit of laughter that resounded in the shuttle.
She held her stomach and stumbled to the bed in the aft section.
There she lay, hiccoughing until she calmed again.

"Well, it's good to hear you laughing again, Kathryn," Wotan, with
the face of Bugs Bunny, said. Kathryn returned to look at him 
again. He gave a wide grin, pulled up the orange carrot, chomped 
off a bit, chewed and said with a full mouth:

"What's up, Kathryn?"

She sat down in the command seat again, looked at him with new
eyes and great tenderness. She pushed a strand of hair behind her
ear, her face soft and eyes almost watery.

"You are good for me, Wotan. I've programmed you so that you
can assume the features of anyone - "

"Chakotay?" he asked quickly, with his voice sounding awfully 
enthusiastic.

"Okay...Chakotay," she said softly.

"My Kathryn..." He said in a voice so like Chakotay's that her
heart melted for a second. Chakotay's face filled the screen, and 
Kathryn almost jumped from her seat. "How are you Kathryn?"

Kathryn Janeway found the strength to keep looking at the face, 
his beloved face. Her hand reached out to touch the tattoo. Her 
fingers trembled as she traced the lines. . Kathryn 
mouthed the only words that seemed to pour from her heart in those 
moments as she touched the screen.

"I love you..."

"Oh sweet Kathryn," Wotan answered, "you never said that to me 
before."

Kathryn gave a growl very reminiscent of a Klingon warrior. Her 
eyes narrowed, and she was about to deactivate him again when he 
said:

"Wotan experiences remorse overload, Kathryn. Let me live." His
voice had the tinny computer's sound. 

"Then don't do that, Wotan. You need me and I need you. We have a 
long way to go," Kathryn placated him. 

Strangely enough, she felt a measure of guilt which gave her the 
shivers. Wotan was, after all, just a damned computer. What was 
happening? She was beginning to bond with a machine. Already she 
couldn't do without his company, however acerbic he was at times. 

"I will help you, Kathryn Janeway, I will help alleviate your pain 
and loneliness."

She gave him a grateful look, then turned again to look at the view 
- what view? - in front of her. Pitch black and only the sensors to 
 indicate that the shuttle was moving forward.
 
 "Wotan," her voice broke into the silence of the shuttle, "you can
 rest now." She was gratified to see the face of Chakotay vanish 
 from the screen. It was quiet. 
 
 It was not a silence she liked, nor a darkness she favoured. She 
 sighed. Wait for tomorrow for the dawn of the new day, she told
 herself grimly. New day? Only Wotan reminded her of the passage of 
 time. 
 
 She knew as she looked at the chronometer at Wotan's console that 
 it was still early. Now, to wait for night...night?
 
 ******
 
 The pink satin gown caressed her curves as it fell in soft folds
 around her. She stroked her hips, her hands sliding from her waist
 down to rest on the flat planes of her stomach. Her fingers splayed
 with the tips just touching her centre. She closed her eyes then 
 drew in a long breath. Her image in the long, narrow mirror mocked
 her as she looked. She could see the edge of the bed in the mirror.
 The aft section of the shuttle had been refitted to resemble small
 quarters. There was the replicator removed from her own quarters on 
 Voyager, a small partition for ablutions, sections that housed both 
 the envirosuits, and a few clothing items and uniforms.
 
 She sighed. Tomorrow she will dress in her uniform again, be the 
 neat as a pin Janeway everybody on Voyager knew. Right now, she 
 wanted...what? 
 
 Wotan had been quiet in the last hour, not bothering her. He had 
 reminded her that she had to sleep. She hadn't slept in thirty-six 
 hours straight. Now he was waiting... he monitored her breathing, 
 her temperature, everything. 
 
 But she knew that she would have to succumb to sleep. There was 
 no indication what denoted night or day, other than Wotan and the 
 chronometer. She didn't want to fall asleep. *They* came...
 
 "Are you ready for bed, Kathryn?" Wotan's voice rang out softly.
 He had learned quickly to change the register of his voice, the 
 intonation that would suit her mood, whatever her mood was. At
 night, for bedtime, the same...
 
 "Yes," she sighed. She turned away from the mirror and took the two
 short steps to her bed. Lifting the covers, she slid under them, 
 feeling the cosseting warmth of the blanket enfolding her.
 
 "Close your eyes, Kathryn," came the voice. It was a comforting 
 sound, not as tinny and impersonal as he sometimes chose to be. She 
 settled in and felt the tiredness seep from her body as she gave 
 herself over to the blessed oblivion of sleep. Somewhere in the 
 mists of half slumber she heard Wotan sing softly:
 
 "Kathryn klein, ging allein,
 in die weite welt hinein...
 stock und hut steht ihr gut,
 ist ganz wohlgemut...
 aber Mutter weinet sehr,
 sie hat keine Kathryn mehr...
 Kathryn klein, ging allein
 in die welt hinein..."
 
 The words drifted like little curls of cloud in her memory. She 
 was four years old again, and the gentle voice of her mother was 
 soothing, lulling her into sleep.  
 
 "I'm not small anymore, Mommy," she heard herself say, remembering 
 the words she had so often said when she was a four year old.. 
 
 "Oh yes, you are my precious little girl...  You will always be..." 
 Wotan said, in the gentle voice of her mother. The words became 
 softer as Kathryn deepened into sleep until each one faded one 
 after the other. Her last thoughts or memory was, strangely enough, 
 not of her mother or the gentle words of the lullaby, but the face 
 of a man who smiled at her. His arm was outstretched and on his 
 palm rested an akoonah.
 
 "Chakotay..." his name breathed from her lips as she at last fell 
 into a deep sleep.
 
 ************
 
 END PART TWO
 TBC Part 3/7
 
 
 DIARY OF A MADWOMAN
 
 PART THREE
 
 Day 180
 
 Captain's Log: Stardate 52116.8
 
 I have been traveling in the void for six months. 
 Although I have made friends with the Susurra, it 
 is still a very lonely journey. Their extensive 
 communications net has ensured that every light-year 
 I travel, some of them will be there to accompany 
 me on part of my journey. Two of the Susurrans,
 Kru'dan and Roya, traveling alone in their small 
 craft, accompany me for the full journey. It will 
 take them years to return to their friends and family 
 once I have reached the end of the void.
 
 Kru'dan and Roya have proved invaluable in their 
 efforts to maintain a protective eye over me and 
 this shuttle. Though in fairness, I must say it is
 not so much their protection I need as their 
 company. They will provide the distraction and
 company I need to continue what is a very long
 journey. With only warp 6 capability, I doubt 
 whether I shall clear the void in two years. My 
 journey will take longer. Even at maximum warp, 
 the prospect of reaching the end of the void in 
 the time it would have taken Voyager, grows 
 extremely slim.
 
 end log. 
 
 ****************
 
 Kathryn Janeway sat in the command seat of the shuttle, her fingers
 moving over the console. Her movements though, were sluggish, as 
 if she were ill or lazy or lethargic. 
 
 Wotan considered the three possibilities and ruled out illness -
 he did not sense an increased temperature that would indicate a 
 fever. He ruled out laziness since she dutifully kept the shuttle's 
 logs and her daily ablutions. It was her lethargy that proved the 
 most cause for concern. Increasingly, it had become difficult to 
 keep her morale up. She responded with great indifference, did not 
 laugh anymore and, at times, she would lapse into a bout of tears, 
 crying hysterically about how she could not be forgiven for making 
 bad decisions.
 
 Now she was sitting and ignoring him. The void had become her 
 nemesis, an unseen enemy she fought day after day. It was silent, 
 sombre, and the thrumming of the shuttle's engines, as it carried 
 her through the wasteland of empty space became a soft, murmuring 
 companion. It whispered light-year after light-year the reality of 
 her precarious position: she was stuck here, and the thought that 
 she might never make it out of the void made her increasingly 
 depressed. 
 
 A situation aggravated by the fact that today was May 20.
 
 He thought of something - anything - to rouse her. 
 
 "Happy birthday to youuuuu!!!!!
 Happy birthday to you!!!!"
 
 There was a stifling silence in the shuttle. Kathryn Janeway did 
 not react. She stared at the viewscreen as if there were a 
 multitude of stars and clouds and planetoids out there. 
 
 "Happy birthday, sweet Kathrynnnnnn!!!!!"
 
 Quiet.
 
 Uneasy pause.
 
 "Hey, Janeway!"
 
 The pause became filled with a trembling, menacing rumble. There 
 was still no sound, but the rumble was in the very silence in the 
 shuttle; unheard, yet there. He was getting something. The very air 
 in the shuttle crackled with it. The increase in her temperature, 
 the dilating pupils and increased heart rate were all indicators. 
 Something was going to give in the next few seconds. Still, he kept 
 on. 
 
 "She misses her angry warrior, giver of fob watches on chains, 
 giver of infinite pleasures in boat rides, giver of great kisses 
 and greater s - "
 
 "Bastard!!!"
 
 "Tut-tut Janeway, such language is unbecoming an officer and a 
 lady," he taunted.
 
 "I could delete your entire programme, Wotan," she cried in rising
 panic.
 
 "Ah yes... you could do that." Wotan paused, then cried 
 theatrically: "No disassemble!!!!!!! Number five is alive!!!!!!!!"
 
 "Then don't!" she screamed as she turned on him and saw the face 
 of... Lord Burleigh...?
 
 "Oh no! Not him, Wotan!"
 
 "What's the matter, Janeway? Burleigh was a great lover, wasn’t he?
 Tell me, what was it like making love to a hologram? Oh, what
 shivers!"
 
 "Why, you - "
 
 "Watch your mouth, Janeway." He waited. Then belted:
 
 " I dream of Burleigh with the big - "
 
 "No! Damn you! Not him... He wasn't, you know, he - I...”
 
 "Ahhh, she hesitates! What was Burleigh like? Or better still, what 
 about...him!" Wotan took on the image of Gathorel, of Sikaris.
 
 "No, dammit! Gath was a... he was a..." 
 
 “Sex with an alien...sex with an alien...” Wotan continued to 
 taunt, then:
 
 “You are my substitute loverrrrrr!!!!!!!!”
 
 "No!! I'll kill you!" she shouted, rising from her chair and 
 swinging her arms in exasperation. There was sweat forming on her
 brow and she was breathing in short gasps.
 
 "Now I know! You always want to make Chakotay jealous, Janeway."
 
 "No!! I didn't! Damn you!”  
 
 “And what about Q? Q who????????”
 
 “Chakotay, he - "
 
 "Accepted your decisions like he always did, the poor gentle,
 angry warrior, teller of legends and stories. He sent you straight 
 into the arms of aliens and holograms who were willing to bed you, 
 Janeway.”
 
 "That's not true! You know it's not true." Kathryn was indeed 
 blazing, her eyes shooting daggers and her cheeks showing twin 
 flames of red. 
 
 “And oh, Gath, he was smart! Wouldn’t sell you 40000 light-years.”
 
 “That’s a lie! The Prime Directive...Gath was not prepared to 
 share, not -  
 
 "  - even for the lady Janeway? How was that kiss, huh? Did he kiss 
 you?" Then Wotan mimicked a long smooching sound, with the face 
 suddenly of Bugs Bunny. Just as suddenly, he changed to Gath again, 
 then Burleigh appeared, and in quick succession he flashed faces of 
 Mark, Q, Tom Paris in mutated form... Oh dear heaven, Tom... Kathryn 
 cringed. She must erase them from the database... Wotan's voice 
 sounded strident, and in the confines of the shuttle the sounds 
 appeared to bounce right off the bulkheads. 
 
 “Poor Chakotay, always putting his Kathryn's needs before his own. 
 Always giving in gracefully, like the gentle warrior he is, to 
 Kathryn's demands, Kathryn's orders, Kathryn's wishes. Have a happy 
 birthdayyyyyyyy, Kathryn!!!!" 
 
 Wotan had Tom's mutated face, and when he opened his mouth, it 
 looked grotesque as his bulgy eyes stared mockingly at her. Then 
 suddenly, Chakotay's face appeared on the screen. 
 
 "That's enough, Wotan... Oh no..."
 
 "What's the matter now, Janeway. You don't like Chakotay's face on
 the screen?"
 
 "Stop it! Stop it, or I'll - "
 
 "Don't threaten me, Janeway. And sit down," Wotan commanded, his
 voice placid, unmoved by the energy of her reactions. He knew she
 was dependant on him, and she would be wary of carrying out her 
 threat of deactivating him when she needed him all the time.
 
 Kathryn sat down reluctantly, looking at the screen. She no longer 
 wondered how he computed whether she was sitting, lying or 
 standing. Her eyes were drawn to Chakotay's face. When Wotan 
 spoke again, it was with Chakotay's voice, with the soft yet firm 
 timbre to it.
 
 "You need me, Janeway, as much as I need you. How else could I
 adapt and develop?"
 
 She looked at him and knew in her heart that he was telling the 
 truth. There was no mulling over the whys and wherefores of her 
 dependence on him, and Wotan was dependent on her... Like a 
 creator, she could delete every memory he had...
 
 "Tell me about the watch, Janeway..." he wheedled suddenly.
 
 "He gave it to me..."
 
 "Who, Gath?"
 
 "Chakotay..." Kathryn looked at the watch hanging at her hip, then 
 took it off and held it in her hand. "On my birthday. We were 
 flying through Krenim space and I  - I had forgotten - "
 
 "That it was your birthday..."
 
 "Yes..."
 
 "The watch, it has special significance, Kathryn," Wotan said, 
 using her first name. She looked at him, her face tender as she 
 realised he used her first name. He was no longer baiting her.
 
 "Yes. Yes it has. Like the ring, you know that, Wotan."
 
 "The symbol of unity, of oneness. Did you have that with him,
 Kathryn?"
 
 "With Chakotay...I waited too long to succumb to - to - "
 
 "Your own needs, Kathryn. When you put Kathryn the Captain aside
 and became just Kathryn, the woman, who could show her man how 
 she loved him?"
 
 "Yes..."
 
 "You miss him..." 
 
 Kathryn was quiet for several minutes, caressing the watch face, 
 her fingers moving with the long hand on the analogue chronometer. 
 Then she said quietly.
 
 "All that I have of him is this: an ancient
 watch adorned with chain; ring of my heart - 
 to remember him, his gentle smile so patient;
 we did not know one day we'd ever part."
 
 "You will see him again, Kathryn," Wotan with the face of Chakotay,
 said. "You will see him again..."
 
 "I don't think so, Wotan. This is one long journey, remember?"
 
 "Yes, I know."
 
 He sensed her mood had changed and that she was no longer brooding.
 It made him bold again after baiting her like that, but it worked.
 
 "Now: what shall we do today, sweet Brynhilde?"
 
 "Sing like the Valkyrie?"
 
 "You bet, my Nibelungen Daughter." 
 
 "Oh yes," Kathryn said, her woes of the moment forgotten. "It's
 my birthday, remember? Oh Master Keeper of the Nibelungen Ring,
 let's sing!!!"
 
 For the next hour, Kathryn and Wotan belted out arias and duets of
 the Nibelungen Ring operas, from "Das Rheingold" to "Twilight of 
 the Gods." She moved around mimicking the movement of the 
 Valkyries, or Fricka or Brynhilde, or Sieglinde - whichever 
 character took her fancy. Wotan just hammered forth the music from 
 the database. If he could have climbed out of the confines of the 
 programme subroutines, he would have danced around with her. 
 
 For a computer programmed with personality subroutines, he was 
 happily running programme after programme from the database. He 
 got what he wanted: his Kathryn was alive again. In fact, he was 
 so happy he brought up his Bugs Bunny face and waved his carrot at 
 her, saying: 
 
 "Eh...we make a good team, Elmer."
 
 Chomp, chomp, chomp.
 
 Kathryn burst into bright laughter again.
 
 
 *
 
 In the small craft a thousand metres away, Kru'dan and Roya watched
 the movements inside the shuttle with interest. 
 
 "Roya."
 
 "Yes, Kru'dan?"
 
 "She is happy again."
 
 "Yes, I can see that."
 
 "Today must be a special day for her."
 
 "To be talking to herself again and dancing and prancing?"
 
 "Do not be a dolt, Roya. We have been following her movements how 
 long now, and you do not know that the human female has mood 
 swings?"
 
 "I do not have your power of observation, Kru'dan. If you are 
 correct, then can we assume that tomorrow she will behave 
 differently?"
 
 "Good Roya, you are improving. Perhaps we will see a different 
 Captain Janeway," Kru'dan said with quiet conviction. 
 
 Kru'dan was silent for a few minutes, minutes in which he assessed
 Captain Janeway's strange behaviour. He no longer thought her 
 actions normal. While the Susurra had survived and adapted in the 
 void for millennia, and felt the darkness as an extension of 
 themselves, Kathryn Janeway was becoming increasingly incoherent 
 and unstable. Her behaviour patterns over the last six months 
 proved that. She was not coping well to traveling alone and being 
 part of this darkness. He sighed. They would travel with her to the 
 end of the void. Time to them was relative. To her, it meant 
 everything. 
 
 "Continue scanning her craft, Roya," he said finally. "And 
 remember - "
 
 
 "When she rests, we stop scanning."
 
 "Yes..."
 
 **********
 
 Day 181
 
 Morning. Whatever.
 
 She was dreaming. 
 
 "There is not enough time. Not enough time!" The Caretaker waved 
 his hand jerkily and the next moment they were on Voyager. 
 
 "I saw the sun..." A face - youthful, beautiful, fey. Large blue 
 eyes set in a face in which the thirst for adventure and the hunger 
 for knowledge caused such animated interest.
 
 A lump rose in her throat as she mouthed the fateful words:
 
 "Destroy the array."
 
 "Who is she to make decisions for all of us?" B'Elanna...
  
 "She's the Captain." Chakotay said as he pulled B'Elanna back.
 
 She's the Captain...Captain...Captain...
 
 Who destroyed the array...array...array...
 
 Who made her God...? God...? God...?
 
 The sounds echoed in her tortured mind. They issued forth only to 
 reverberate in damning condemnation. Each one turned into a bizarre 
 caricature of people she knew: Kes, Harry, Tom, Neelix with his 
 yellow eyes. They were pointing at her... 
 
 No, please...she tried to turn her thoughts into sound. She gasped, 
 breathing with difficulty as she tried in vain to wake herself 
 from the terrible fetters that kept her mind imprisoned. 
 
 . 
 
 But the images kept her tethered to the bed. She heaved with pain,
 moving in agony on the bed.
 
 
 
 In the void, her words turned into echoes...echoes...echoes...
 
 The images in her dream coalesced into a single entity, a monster 
 that turned on her, claws unsheathed, teeth bared. It growled and 
 the unearthly sound came closer...closer...closer...
 
 "Someone's rocking my dreamboat,
 someone's invading my dreammmmmmm!!!!!!!!!"
 
 Was that in her dream too? Did Wotan come to haunt her? 
 
 "Someone's rocking my dreamboatttttttt!!!!!!"
 
 Wotan's voice again. This time more insistent. What does he want??
 
 That was when the image receded, taking with him all the other 
 images and sounds that pointed so diabolically at her. They 
 vanished in a gurgling sound as the vortex swirled maddeningly
 at its confluence. Then only one sound, one voice remained.
 
 That was not in her dream...
 
 ...not in her dream...
 
 ...not in her dream...
 
 "Wotan!!!"  She gasped as she sat up in bed, drenched in sweat.
 
 "That's it, Kathryn. Look around you. I know it's dark. The light
 setting is at eight percent illumination. You have cat's eyes..."
 
 "I dreamed..."
 
 "Nightmare, Kathryn..."
 
 Her nightdress was clammy, it clung to her skin. There was a film
 of sweat on her face and neck. She shivered. No doubt Wotan sensed
 the temperatures and agitation, picked up her gasping for breath.
 
 "They followed me, Wotan." She got up from the bed and walked to the
 computer to face him. He had the blessed face of Admiral Edward
 Janeway. 
 
 "Daddy?"
 
 "I'm not your father, Kathryn," he said.
 
 "Is this another ploy to punish me, Wotan?" She was fully awake,
 but deeply troubled.
 
 "You destroyed the array, Kathryn, for - "
 
 "And stranded Voyager in this corner of the galaxy," she cut in
 bitterly. "Through my own selfish pride, I made decisions. *Me* she 
 said, her voice rising to hysteria. "It was *my* fault, Wotan. 
 *Mine* alone," she screamed at him. 
 
 Then she did something unexpectedly. She tucked her fingers in the 
 neckline of her night gown and tore it off her body. In one long 
 renting sound, it tore down the middle. She stood there, looking at 
 the pieces of fabric still in her hand. 
 
 Her eyes became strangely alive. Wotan's sensors picked up the 
 rising histrionics that bordered on what he called: "Today is 
 'Janeway is irrational' Day". She was going to treat him to the
 works again, as she always did after her nightmares.
 
 "Look at me, Wotan," Janeway said. Wotan, with kindly Mark's face 
 looked, but she was impervious to any face her threw at her. She 
 was in a foul mood. 
 
 "Look at me," she demanded. 
 
 Her hands cupped her breasts, kneading them as she swayed her hips. 
 She pressed her fingers into the tender flesh; they left little 
 half-moons on her skin. It incited her as she began to hiss at 
 Wotan.  
 
 "Who would want me now?" she said as she moved in front of him, her 
 hands caressing her body in mocking imitation of sex, her fingers 
 probing into her centre. 
 
 If Wotan could sigh, he would. So, he just waited till Kathryn 
 expended her energy. She was coarse, her actions obscene. But the 
 lady Janeway was far from Kathryn when she was like this. On such
 days she walked most of the morning unclothed. That was when he 
 could sense no artificial layers of fabric on her. 
 
 "This...void," she said, then pointed at the viewscreen into the
 distance, "is my lover..." 
 
 "Kathryn..." Wotan soothed her.
 
 "Don't *Kathryn* me. I hate you! I hate this eternal darkness, I 
 hate *this*!" and she would point obscenely to her body. "So don't 
 *Kathryn* me..."
 
 "Put on a fresh nightgown Kathryn, our friends can see you in the 
 dark," he said, trying to get her into some semblance of 
 rationality again. But it was like oil on fire; she stood in front 
 of the viewport on the starboard side and gyrated. 
 
 She turned back, imagining her unseen friends and onlookers took
 no notice of her. 
 
 "Do *you* like me, Wotan?" she asked in a soft, suggestive tone.
 Her hands went to her hair, pushing it up and away from her neck.
 Her hips swayed; she was totally oblivious of her nudity.
 
 "I love you, Kathryn. Please, will you put on a gown?" Wotan,
 now showing Chakotay's face, asked.
 
 "I deserve to be punished, you know. I did my crew an injustice
 by stranding them here," she said, her hand jerking and trembling
 as she tried to point to the bottomless beyond that was the void.
 Her hair hung about her face, so unkempt, it made her appear
 shrewish.
 
 "You saved them this time, Kathryn, my love. You saved them from 
 the fate of remaining in the void... You have atoned. Do you hear? 
 You have atoned...atoned...atoned..."
 
 Then Kathryn peered at the computer screen, showing Chakotay's
 face. In a little girl voice, she asked: "I have?"
 
 "You have, Kathryn, my child. You have,"  Wotan's voice soothed.
 
 Only then did Kathryn Janeway become aware of the white foam at the 
 corners of her mouth, her naked state. In a daze, she walked 
 towards her tiny 'drobe, removed a fresh nightgown and put it on.
 
 "That's my girl. Good girl, Kathryn... Lie down again..."
 
 Kathryn did as she was ordered by Wotan. She did not get under the 
 covers though, but curled into a ball, her hands clutching her 
 knees. She shivered uncontrollably. 
 
 "Kathryn klein, ging allein..." she started singing in a tremulous
 voice.
 
 "in die weite welt hinein..." Wotan continued softly. "Going into 
 the wide world alone..."
 
 He kept up the lullaby, this time in his own computer voice. Slowly, 
 Kathryn's trembling stopped, until she became quiet. Her breathing 
 slowed down to an even tempo. 
 
 She closed her eyes at last as Wotan sang the last lines.
 
 "Kathryn klein, ging allein
 in die weite welt hinein..."
 
 When his sensors picked up her sleeping rhythm, he stopped. Poor 
 Kathryn! In this wide, wide world alone and isolated. This was 
 Kathryn's bad day. Even though he had been able to calm her 
 tortured soul, he knew the day wasn't over. He had a great task 
 ahead of him today. He sent out a signal to their companions, who 
 were never far away. Later in the day, Kru'dan and Roya would beam 
 over to the shuttle and play chess with Kathryn the way she taught 
 them. They would sit in total darkness, yet still see each other as 
 though it were daylight. Though she was unaware of it, even Kathryn 
 had developed "cat's eyes". She could just as easily see them as 
 they could her. Wotan wondered if Kathryn was even aware of that 
 fact. She would have a real problem if suddenly faced with 100% 
 illumination. The cabin of the shuttle was never more than 8%, and 
 she did not notice anymore.
 
 Now he was scheming all sorts of new things to keep her morale up.
 But it was not her morale so much as the unending guilt she was
 ridden with that got to her. She could not, at this point in time,
 accept that the decisions she made were good ones, honourable ones. 
 She felt responsible for the way her crew was made to endure the 
 hardships of facing great and cruel adversity. That they accepted 
 her leadership, that they loved and admired her, were not things 
 she considered atonement. She needed a different kind of atonement 
- expiation, absolution. He "thought" of her order to destroy the 
Caretaker's array, and though Kathryn saw it as a selfish act, she 
led a crew who would have endorsed her action again and again. She
inspired in them the spirit of helpfulness. Her decision to send 
Voyager on and remaining behind was an act of honour; a grand 
gesture to stay behind and sacrifice herself for the sake of her 
crew. 

How could she not be admired for what she did?

She gave her crew no recourse for opposing her. Her mind had been 
made up, and that was that.

Yet, the passage through the void became her rite of passage. She
believed that by reaching the other side of it, by seeing at last
stars and clouds and planets, she would redeem herself, and that 
in doing so, her debt would be paid in full. 

But Kathryn Janeway was regressing month after month, her hope 
to reach the end of the void growing dimmer and dimmer.

Wotan knew he could only be her companion and offer the best 
encouragement he could to keep her hopes up. As long as she had 
hope, she had the chance to live.

He still had a few aces up his sleeve. Ways in which he could, as 
a mere programmed personality she called Wotan, fight to keep her
alive.

And without the Nibelungen - her name for the inhabitants of the
void - to watch over them.

**********

END PART THREE
TBC Part 4/7


DIARY OF A MADWOMAN

PART FOUR

Day 365

Captain's Log: Stardate 53506.8

It is now a year since Voyager made it through 
the spatial vortex. I have no idea how far they 
have traveled or what means they have devised of 
shortening their journey, if any. Their passage 
home though, would bear greater significance than 
my own, given the nature of this sector of space 
I'm still traveling in. They would, as Commander
Chakotay correctly said, provide the Federation
with decades of information about the Delta
Quadrant. Should they reach the Alpha Quadrant, 
my wishes and desires will have been granted. 

My own journey will continue for at least another 
year. I have been informed by the friends I’ve made 
here that I've covered about 40% of the distance 
through the void. I have not entertained any idea 
of remaining here in this sector of space, although 
the Susurra, with great hospitality, have granted
me a "home" of sorts should that become necessary. 
To say, therefore, that I accept the inevitability 
of a permanent home in the void...the idea of it 
alone is the incentive I need to keep going. 

So, my journey continues. Kru’dan and Roya have 
been valuable companionship. I am grateful for 
their continued presence; more and more, I come 
to rely on their company as I continue towards 
the end of the void. I laud their courage and 
willingness to put up with a lonely traveler. 

Who knows? One day I could be home...

end log.

*************

"Roya."

"Yes, Kru'dan?"

"A year has passed."

"I know that Kru'dan," Roya said. "One year has passed, according 
to the way time is measured by Captain Janeway's home planet, 
Earth."

"Good."

"I do not understand, Kru'dan, how it can be good."

"We do not see star systems Roya, nor planets. But according to 
what we have seen in Captain Janeway's database, her planet looks 
beautiful. She has shown us with much pride what Earth looks like.
Her home world is what keeps her going, my young friend."

"It is full of water."

"Yes. So is your body, Roya."

Roya could sense Kru'dan becoming a little impatient with him. He 
wondered now what it was he missed in this conversation. He was 
not a man for subtleties, he conceded, and sometimes he knew he 
sounded ignorant to the obvious. 

"She is missing her home, Kru'dan?"

"The picture, Roya, is becoming a little clearer to you now,"
Kru'dan said a little tersely. "Of course, she misses her home.
That planet is beautiful, compelling. It draws her closer - “

“I know, Kru’dan! She is a little closer to home now, yes?”

“Finally, Roya, you are making some progress in your powers of 
deduction." 

Kru'dan looked at his friend whom he secretly thought was lacking 
in quality brain activity. Kru’dan’s lips were pulled away from his 
teeth, an indication that he was smiling. Roya merely nodded, then 
looked at his hands, more out of embarrassment than noticing how 
much of his own scars had healed. Both their outer layers of skin 
were healing, now that the effects of the radiation poisoning had 
been countered. Neither wore much clothing, except for the standard 
one piece jump suit worn by most Susurra. This made for great 
anonymity, a quality further emphasized by the obscurity and 
darkness in which they’d lived for eons.

"Poor Captain Janeway! I thought we were able to convince her to 
make a life here, with us," Roya offered. Kru’dan gave him a 
superior look, a look which said that the continuation of that 
particular subject was considered "off limits" as the earthling 
Janeway would say.

"We will continue to accompany her, Roya. She is our friend and
I think she needs us from time to time..."

"Yes, Kru'dan. But I still don't understand how she can still
keep up talking to herself."

"Roya, Roya, Roya. These humans, as I've told you many times, are
eccentric beings. It may be possible that she is talking to someone
we can’t see, like - like a friend. Yes, that could be it. A friend 
who exists only to her, and is unseen by us. 

"An imaginary friend?"

"Yes! She has conjured up this friend in her imagination and he 
becomes real to her. He becomes her friend. Even though we can't
see this friend - no one can - she can see him," Kru'dan said, with
such a superior air and conviction that Roya wanted to laugh. 

Roya didn't think that Kathryn Janeway had an imaginary friend. He
thought she was not herself, more like many of his race became as 
they were overtaken by the Sickness. They did things that were not 
within the normal and accepted parameters of behaviour. 

Roya was certain that Kathryn Janeway was mad. Whenever he and 
Kru'dan visited her, Roya felt a little afraid, as though she would 
jump at him suddenly. Her eyes had a wild look, like a huntress. It 
gave him shivers. Just the way she looked at them made him think 
that everything was not as it should be with her.

Then there was the matter of her computer. Roya wondered if Kru'dan
noticed how Captain Janeway would touch the screen of the computer 
almost as though... No, he dare not think of such a possibility, 
and Kru'dan would probably tell him that he, Roya, was mad. But the 
way she stroked that screen as though...as though she thought of 
it as a person, like her...

But he could not voice these thoughts to his superior. He knew
Kru'dan would give him a look of resignation and shake his head
at Roya's stupidity. 

That was why Roya kept his own private personal little log in 
which he chronicled his own impressions on what he thought was the 
madness of Kathryn Janeway.

He was not to know those different impressions of an event, 
different perspectives of the travails of this lonely woman would 
one day become a legend of the void.

******

Day 485

"Oh come on, Janeway," Wotan pleaded, "you're making a poor 
sentient computer beg for mercy." The screen showed the face of 
twentieth century baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in the role of 
Wotan. Dietrich sported a stagey black eye-patch, adding to his 
mystique.

"Patience, Wotan,"  Kathryn said. "I've only just started," and she
gave him a positively sadistic smile. Her mouth curved in her old
and familiar twist, a sign that she was enjoying the humour of the
situation.

She was immaculate in her uniform, and in spite of the darkness,
and through the reflection of the lit panels, the four pips on her
turtleneck shone. 

"Kathryn, my sweet," he implored with a great theatrical air, "one
more verse and I'm done for..."

"Canto 3 verse 36."

"Oh no!!!"  Wotan's face suddenly changed to that of Chakotay's.

"Be still and listen to Vulcan love poetry - "

"All ten cantos and 360 verses?"  He changed his voice to sound 
like Chakotay. "In this very shuttle, my sweet Kathryn, I told you 
I could have done without Tuvok's poetry..."

"It's payback, Wotan."

"I know..." He gave a good imitation of a groan.

Kathryn started reading from the PADD.

"Of ancient laws our ancestors did speak.
That guide the Vulcan heart to destined mates.
In golden tenets trained to curb our heat
and therefore always guided by the fates.
For they so tested Vulcan bliss that laws
were made by which we could suppress desire,
When we in mating bond with equal force,
Such passions never seen with so much fire.
With so much logic argued we for nought
We have no feelings? Thus no heart?
As in our fevered blood our souls we sought,
exhausted rapture turned to Vulcan's art!"


"Kathryn." Wotan interrupted before she could launch into the next
verse.

"Hmmm...?" She said a little distractedly as she looked at the 
PADD. 

"That verse is not part of the Vulcan Love Song Cantos," he said, 
and she was amused by the petulant tone to his voice.

"Oh, but it is, Wotan," Kathryn said a little enigmatically.

"You made it up, Janeway," came his rejoinder. Ah, she thought. He
called her by her last name. That's got him riled a little. 

"I did not," she countered, knowing how he hated to be outwitted. 
That is, if she could outwit him. All she had to do, was scramble 
his programme, a tweak here and a tweak there, and he's Holodoc on 
a bad day. 

"You did."

"Huh-huh."

"Come on, give, Janeway..." he commanded.

She squared her slender shoulders. She had lost so much weight in 
the last year or so. She knew it, Wotan reminded her constantly. 
But she felt better today than she had in weeks. Now she could 
embark in acerbic repartee with her own creation. 

She leaned forward, her face coming close to the screen, smiling at
his face, the face of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, great baritone of 
the twentieth century.

"Wotan my friend, this is Vulcan poetics. I'm no good at it," she 
said slyly.

"Oh yes? And how, pray, could thirty five verses of the most 
monotonous and really dry as dust verse be suddenly concluded with 
beautiful cadences, images, *passion*!"

"You liked it?" she asked him, giving a little laugh, full of 
humour.

"Janeway, Janeway. That was such a breath of fresh air. Rising 
crescendo and very, very appropriate for singing."  

"I'm glad you like it, Wotan. Now, are you going to put Voyager
on the viewscreen again?" she asked, the smile now vanishing from 
her face. She looked suddenly serious.

"No, I won't do it again, Kathryn," he said soberly.

"Promise?"

"Yes, Kathryn."

"The next time you put Voyager on my viewscreen, making me believe
it’s really out there, I'll delete your programme and Wotan will be 
no more, do you hear?" 

"Yes, Kathryn." He knew she was having fun at his expense. He let
her have it. She had been out of her mind the previous day, believing
that he did throw Voyager's image on the viewscreen. It had been
one harrowing day.

"Good. That should teach you. Now, where were we? Ah, Canto four, 
verse one of Vulcan Love S - "

"Arrrgghghh..."  It was a long drawn out groan of pain Wotan let 
loose as she continued. Good for him. Let him suffer a bit. She 
knew the entire set of cantos was in his database, but he had 
become so sentient, so attuned to her own moods and feelings 
that he couldn't bear hearing her recite or sing it. 

*****

Later, when she lay in bed, comfortable for the night - whatever 
that - was, she thought of what happened the previous day. .

She groaned, then turned on her side, covering her head with the 
blanket, trying to blot out the images. But Wotan... Wotan's voice 
pierced the magnificent self-control she'd had all day today. His 
voice, in that irritating Picard drawl, caused her collapse. The 
memories came rushing back. Normally, after such a scene in which 
she lost herself completely, the next day she would be oblivious
to what happened, and only little signs that she had been deranged 
surfaced. The scratches on her body, her nakedness sometimes, the 
deep bruises on her breasts, the wild look in her face, her unkempt 
hair, were all indicators that told her she had once again shamed 
herself. She groaned again. Wotan left her alone tonight, and for 
that she was grateful. 

But yesterday...

***

"How do I look, Wotan?" Kathryn asked as she returned to the 
command section of the shuttle and did a passable pirouette. She 
was barefoot and the dress she wore was...

"You are not in uniform, Kathryn." It was a statement. 

"Sometimes, Wotan, you can be such a computer."

"Great legs."

"I know," she said, twirling round again, her hands spreading the 
skirt of the gown before she did a  curtsy when she faced Wotan 
again.

"My analysis of the fabric indicates that the dress you are wearing
is the same as the one, if indeed not *the* one you wore when you 
did your "Dying Swan" ballet. It is of a very light blue, has a 
voluminous skirt of several layers, and it is diaphanous. Two thin 
straps are trying their best to hold the dress on your body right 
now, Kathryn. I would say that as a result of your weight loss in 
the last year, it fits rather loosely on you."

"Are you done, Wotan?"

"No, my dear Brynhilde, Daughter and leader of the Valkyrie, 
mistress in the Nibelungen, Starfleet captain of yore, lover of he 
who is no more - "

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked again, ignoring his words.
“Call me sentimental, but I wanted to keep this dress... I 
needed to - "

“Where did you hide the dress Kathryn? Considering we have so
little space..." Wotan pondered. 

"In space..."

"Space?"

"Yes...inside one of the envirosuits."

"Now why didn't I compute that possibility?" Wotan asked, sounding
almost outraged. His sensors picked up her movements, and he said
quietly:

"You danced for him...”

“Beautiful...”

He sensed something, but right now she was difficult to read.

"So it is, Kathryn..." He put on his Neelix face and frowned.

"Play, Wotan, I want to dance," she commanded.

"Kathryn..."

"Play."

"Kathryn..."

"Play, Wotan. Some Tschaikovsky this time," she said as she started
to do some pirouettes again. 

Her face was flushed, and there was an unnatural gleam in her eyes. 
Her lips were parted and her breathing, erratic. She held her 
arms up and in the gentle movement of the dance, she imitated the 
swan, her wings spread and the slow movements becoming slower.

Wotan initiated a selection of music and through his sensors picked
up her movements. In this mood of Kathryn’s it was difficult to 
compute whether she just danced to amuse herself and break the 
boredom of traveling in the Void, or whether she was unstable 
again. She did both with such panache that he couldn't read from 
her body temperature, the chemical changes in her body, which was 
which. He gave the equivalent of a sigh and settled in to wait for 
her next move. 

"You dance beautifully, Kathryn," he said eventually. 

"Liar..." she murmured as she moved around in the shuttle to the 
rhythm of the music. 

Oh, dear.

He put on his Bugs Bunny face and smiled at her. She was on the 
brink again.

"Wotan, look!" she said suddenly as she stood behind her command 
seat and stared at the viewscreen.

"What is it that I'm supposed to see, Kathryn?" he asked and he 
could have sworn she gave an expletive.

"Voyager! Don't you see? Look!"  

She sat down and her fingers danced on the panels. 

"Janeway to Voyager! Do you read me?"  

She stared at the screen, and in the dark, she believed she could 
discern the outline of a Federation vessel, the familiar spoon 
shape of Voyager. It sat there and it appeared as though the 
screen trembled with the movement of the starship. Even though the 
interior of the shuttle was in total darkness, she could see the 
blue outline of the starship.

"Janeway to Voyager. Do you read me?" she asked again, her voice 
edged with desperation. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as she 
called over and over again. 

"Kathryn. Kathryn!"

"Chakotay!"

"No, Kathryn, it's me, Wotan. Remember me? It's Wotan, Kathryn."

"No!!" she screamed. "Chakotay is there. He's there, Wotan. He 
can't hear me, but that's because - "

"- he can't hear you, Kathryn," Wotan said, "because he isn't 
there." 

Silence followed his words, a terrible, stifling pause that filled
the air with tension. 

"No!!!" she screamed, her despair turning into a long wail as she
watched Voyager disappear from the screen. She turned on him with
his Bugs Bunny face. There was a shattered look in her eyes.

"Voyager is there, Wotan. She is out there, isn't she? She just 
can't pick up my distress signals, right Wotan?"  She was pleading 
pathetically, tears of frustration in her eyes. She looked at the 
screen again, and there, even closer, was Voyager. In a second, 
Chakotay's face filled the screen.

Kathryn stared for a moment transfixed at seeing Chakotay. Her 
lips trembled and there was a lump in her throat. She swallowed. 

At last the word came out.

"Chakotay?"

In the next second, the image was gone. Momentarily stunned, she 
stood open-mouthed and stared at the screen before she turned to 
Wotan again.

"What happened, Wotan?"

"Nothing happened, dear Kathryn. The picture you just saw, was
another hallucination. You are confused, you are trapped in an 
illusion, my dear. You have to break it, now!"

"Liar!"

"Listen to me, Kathryn. I'm sorry - "

"You bastard!! You did that on purpose. You - "

"No, Kathryn. I want you to know you that what you perceived as 
real, was not. I want you to know you that I can throw those 
images on the viewscreen, and you would believe it's really there.
It is the equivalent of a desert mirage and it appeared very real 
to you - "

"No! You really did that, Wotan!" 

"Fine, Kathryn. You want to believe that I did it, believe it,"
Wotan said, hoping he could shake her and break the illusion that
way. It was clear to him that that she was still hallucinating. He 
had to do something. "It appeared very real to you, because - "

"But it is there, Wotan, isn't it? She's there waiting for me..."

"I cannot tell you that, Kathryn. Voyager might be home already - "

That was when she lost it completely. She ripped her dress off, 
and stood naked within seconds. She screamed and howled hopelessly
for a few minutes, thrashing around with flailing arms. She was
enraged. More than that. She became demented and in her state of 
dementia she scratched herself, deep scratches that left scars. 
Her eyes were wild and there was foam forming at the corners of 
her mouth. She climbed onto the console in front of her and touched 
the viewscreen, crying for Voyager not to go away, crying for 
Chakotay to return.

"I can see you..." she said as her tears stopped abruptly. 

"Tomorrow is St. Valentine's day..." she sang in imitation of the
doomed heroine of Hamlet.

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

"Kathryn," Wotan called.

"Maybe they're out hiding in the dark." There was a wistful tone
in her voice. 

The deep scratches were bleeding. Wotan's sensors picked up the 
presence of blood on her skin. He also detected hair that had been 
pulled out. 

"Kathryn, look at me, my daughter," he coaxed. "Come, my love, just 
turn round and look at me..."

She turned slowly to face him. He could sense that she was 
completely irrational. Her signals were clearly erratic. Normally
he could sense when she was happy, sad, humorous or just plain
depressed. But now the signals were so scrambled, it was the only 
way he could compute that she was unable to distinguish between 
fantasy and reality. But the fantasy had to be broken now. 

She leaned towards his screen and asked, "I am in sound mind and
body, am I not, Wotan?" She said it with a little smile. 

"Kathryn, would you please put on some clothes?"

"No..."

"Go on... walk to your closet Kathryn and take out your 
nightdress."

"No..."

"Look at the viewscreen, Kathryn. Tell me what you see..."

Kathryn turned round to look at the screen and all she saw was the
familiar expanse of darkness.

"There's nothing, Wotan."

"Was there anything a few minutes ago, Kathryn?"

"Why do you ask that? Silly Bugs Bunny. There can't be anything,
except Kru'dan and Roya in their own vessel..."

"Good, Kathryn. Do you remember seeing anything?" 

"No, Wotan. Why do you ask?" She frowned.

"Because you are naked, Kathryn. You may have been dreaming again."

Kathryn then looked around her in the cabin. There were things 
lying about that she must have thrown around - boots, a commbadge, 
and a torn blue dress were lying on the floor. She saw the deep 
scratches on her arms and thighs, the bruises on her breasts. 
Twisted around her fingers were strands of hair. She touched her 
head and immediately winced at the pain in her scalp, the result 
of hair having been pulled out by its roots. 

"Oh, my God," she groaned. 

"I am sorry, Kathryn," Wotan offered, as he heard her sobbing so
heartbrokenly. He would have hugged her if he could. But she had 
broken with the fantasy at last, and realised what she had done. 
If he were human, he would have had deep empathy, a great compassion 
for her plight. There was no doubt about it. Traveling alone in the 
void, albeit with the company of the Susurrans - the Nibelungen as 
she called them - was breaking her down. It was breaking her. Wotan 
knew she tried her best, with his help, to keep sane. But staring 
at the void, being cast in total darkness so thick, so black that 
she had herself become photosensitive, was slowly killing her. By 
his calculations, Kathryn's regression increased exponentially as 
each month passed and she was nowhere near the end of the void. 
By his calculations, if Kathryn did not reach the end of the void 
within a year at the very outset, she would die. Where Kathryn had, 
in the beginning, created him to be a companion for her on her 
journey, right now, his primary aim was to keep her alive. Just 
alive. There was only so much he could do. 

At least this time she didn't ply him with questions of her guilt 
and the redemption he knew she sought. She imagined that if she 
reached the end of the void, she would be satisfied with herself 
and have atoned for her so-called misguided selfishness and 
delusions of being the great Starfleet Captain that she held 
herself to be. 

When Kathryn stopped crying, she stumbled to her closet and 
pulled out a fresh gown. She would use the dermal regenerator to 
repair the broken skin later. Right now, she was too exhausted. She 
crawled into bed and curled up in a little ball like she always 
did when she was disturbed beyond her strength and control. She 
lay there shivering until she heard:

"Someone's rocking my dreamboat...." Bugs sang very softly to her.

She became calm again, the sleep overtaking her as she allowed Bugs 
to sing softly to her.

"Someone's invading my dream..." she mouthed the words as 
Chakotay's image flashed in her mind.

It wasn't long before Wotan sensed her even and deep breathing. 
She was sleeping at last.

He had time to say, a little self-deprecatingly:

"Ain't I a stinker..."

*****

Kathryn's thoughts of the previous day faded slowly as sleep 
overtook her. She drifted into sleep, with her mouthed curved in 
a smile. 

**************

END PART FOUR.
TBC: Part 5/7

DIARY OF A MADWOMAN

PART FIVE

Day 665

Personal log: Stardate 54306.09


I wish to heaven that I can say things like: "My, 
how time has flown!" or "Goodness, where has the 
time gone?" or just simply "I'd better go, I'm in 
a hurry", or..."I have no time!" The image of the 
Caretaker flashes for a second in my head as I say 
these words, his voice and tone accusing. If such 
expressions had been uttered by me before, I have 
little recollection of how long ago that was, or 
what the circumstances... 

Time.

In the void, what is that? All I know is that I'm 
moving, yet not aware that I am. I am in perpetual 
darkness. It is an animal, slowly devouring me, 
making me lose all sense of time, of space, of...
myself. I am not what I was. I hover between 
fantasy and reality, darkness and...darkness. It 
is wearing me down, this void, this...this...
Nibelungen. And time, like his consort, the darkness, 
has become a beast that has overpowered my being 
and hungrily gnaws in rhythmic movement at my 
heartbeat. 

I can hear my heart in this stillness; it's a 
pounding in my ears, and every beat throbs obscenely, 
telling me I’m never, never going home...

How often has it happened that a person could be so 
driven, so applied, so set on a course for some high 
and lofty reason, that all sense of "why" is lost? 
And when the end is reached, they have no idea why 
they embarked on such a journey, or why they did such 
and such a thing?

Yet, I know what I have done...when I am clear-minded 
enough to think about it. 

What are the facts? 

The spatial vortex had to be destroyed. Through it, 
the Malon came and gradually, by dumping their 
radioactive waste here in this "wasteland", began 
killing and wiping out the Susurrans.

That is fact. 

There was only one way that the vortex could be 
destroyed: The end of the vortex, where its 
dimensional radius was weakest, had to be 
eliminated. That way, no one could come through 
the vortex from the "outside" and no one could 
go out. 

That is fact.

If Voyager had destroyed the vortex at its 
weakest end  - that is, the end closest to Voyager 
- it would have meant that Voyager and her 
entire crew would have had to remain in the void 
for two years, the estimated time it would take 
to cross the entire void.
 
That is fact.

I did not want my crew to make that sacrifice. 
They had already sacrificed enough through my 
own selfishness when I destroyed the Caretaker's 
array.

That is fact.

I decided to stay behind and destroy the vortex, 
let Voyager go on home. I did it for them. I did 
what I had to do...

That...is...fact...

Chakotay and I... we did not part amicably.

I find it difficult to go on. The beasts are eating 
me, from the inside. There are leftovers from their 
meal. It's called guilt, remorse, loneliness, 
isolation. There is a constant hunger in me for the 
peace of atonement...absolution.

I am alone.

With only Wotan.

And Kru'dan.

And Roya.

And memories.

And this eternal damnation of darkness.

Nothing has meaning anymore.

I have been here almost two years now, and the 
prospect of seeing the end, the prospect of 
summoning the strength to go on, becomes bleaker. 

"Kathryn klein, ging allein..."

end log...

***************

Day 700

"Hey, Janeway!" Wotan called loudly, the voice echoing in the 
shuttle.

Kathryn lay in bed. It was 0900. Morning. Whatever. Late for 
whatever... Her eyes were open, but they appeared glazed, unseeing. 

"Janeway!!!!"

After a long while, she moved. It was, however, merely to change
position. Now she lay on her side, facing away from the bulkhead.

"Janeway, come on now. Time to get up," he commanded.

No response, except a low moan.

"You haven't eaten anything in three days, Janeway. You need
sustenance."

"I'm not hungry," it came weakly from the aft section.

"She speaks!" Wotan crowed. "Now, Janeway, rise and shine!!!"

Kathryn winced painfully as his strident voice rang in her ears.

She groaned again and raised herself. Her movements were sluggish,
she felt weak and dizzy. 

"Do I have to?" she muttered softly as she stood unsteadily on her 
feet, her long nightdress hanging limply on her. "There is no 
purpose, is there?"

"There is, Kathryn," Wotan's voice assured her. It was soft, 
tender. "Come, my dear. Go to your replicator and take there your 
nutrients for this morning."

"I can't eat, Wotan," she said, moving to the replicator and
seeing what Wotan had already programmed. She groaned again.

"A little at a time, Kathryn, to build up your strength again.
Remember what we decided, Kathryn?" He spoke to her as if she were
a little girl of four years.

"Yes..."

"I am responsible for keeping you strong, and keeping you alive."

"Yes..." she said as she took the orange juice from the replicator
and started drinking slowly. She pulled her nose as the taste hit
her. Wotan won't let her drink coffee...

"And I am to see that we both get through Susurran space in one 
piece.

"Yes..." she mumbled as she took the muffin from the replicator 
and bit into the soft and...tasty cake. She chewed and realised 
that she wanted more. Quickly, she finished the muffin.

"That's a good girl, Kathryn. It's enough for now. Go make yourself
presentable, Captain, and we'll decide what to do for today," came
his imperious voice. 

Kathryn's lethargy left her gradually, and she was glad when she 
could actually focus properly around her. She had become melancholy 
again the last few days, not wanting to go on, the strength no longer 
there.

There was no light in the shuttle now. Even at eight percent 
illumination, her eyes rebelled against that little light. But she 
was comfortable moving around. An hour later, she appeared before 
Wotan, dressed immaculately in her uniform. She hadn't worn it for 
days.

"Hey...what's up, Kathryn?"  He had his Bugs Bunny face. 

"Good Morning, Wotan. Kathryn Janeway at your service. What can I
do for you?"

"My sweet Brynhilde! My Kathryn klein! Little girl, my wish-maiden,
Protector of the Shield, Wearer of the Ring, my Valkyrie, ride with
me today!!!!"

The rest of the day Kathryn relaxed as Wotan entertained her. They
played games, they sang songs, he showed her old twentieth century 
movies. She laughed, cried sometimes when the movie was sad.

Kathryn watched Deborah Kerr, whose eyes brimmed with tears, tell 
Cary Grant:

"Oh, darling, if you can paint again, I can walk again..."

"Oh, Wotan," Kathryn said, "how utterly sweet and beautiful." Her 
own eyes misted over with happiness for the couple, reunited at 
last.

"Thank goodness for happy endings," Wotan crowed.

*********

Day 715

"...I need you, Wotan," Kathryn said seductively, her hands splayed 
on her hips as she moved in sensual grace before his console.

"What do you want, my Kathryn?" he spoke in Chakotay's voice, 
showing Chakotay's face on his screen.

"You..."

"How..." he sounded hoarse.

"You know how..."

"I do not wish to comply, Kathryn..."

"Don't go all noble on me, Wotan. It's not as if we - " Kathryn had 
already started pulling off her jacket, slowly and sensuously, her 
hips swaying a little as if she were moving to some tune. 

"Don't I know it, my love! You taught me yourself to be Chakotay. 
You showed me how to go about seducing you, as...him...”

"My hands are on my breasts, Wotan," Kathryn said huskily as the 
jacket lay discarded on the floor and her hands cupped her breasts, 
the fabric of her turtleneck adding to the sensual feel as it moved 
against her.

"Tell me what to do, Wotan... Chakotay..." 

“Who do you want me to be...”

“Chakotay...”

Wotan, who for almost two years had been her companion, her 
saviour on countless occasions, who had seen her through every 
mood known to humans, gave a huge sigh... He hadn't wanted to do 
it, knowing how it left her afterwards. But right now, her 
pheromone levels were increased, heightening her sexual sense and 
need for stimulation. He sighed again. She was not going to give 
up... He was so attached to her himself, so attuned to every 
emotion and mood, he knew that had he been a corporeal being, he 
would have been in love with her...

"Stand at your cheval, my sweet love. Today I am - "

"Chakotay..." she breathed as she stood at the long mirror, looking
at her image. Her face was flushed, her mouth open as she arched
her neck. She stroked her hips while she waited for Wotan...

"Take off your turtleneck..." Chakotay said softly.

She complied, tucking her fingers in the lower edge, slipping the
garment over her head in languorous, lazy movements. 

"Your bra..."

"Chakotay..." his name slipped from her lips as she looked at her 
face in the mirror, watching her hands go up to remove the lacy 
item, letting it flutter to the floor.

"I know, my love. I must ask: Are you wet...?”

“Yes...”
 
“Now remove the rest. Slowly, Kathryn," he ordered quietly. He knew 
how excited she could get, and he waited for her signal.

“I am now...”

"You are naked, Kathryn."

"Yes..."

"Stroke your neck, and let your fingers trail to the hollow, my 
love. They are now my rough hands, yet infinitely tender,” he 
coaxed as her hands caressed her skin, going over the rise of her 
breasts, whispering over her taut nipples. They were pink nubs in 
a darker aureole. 

"Squeeze them, my love..."

"Yes," she murmured softly as her fingers closed over her nipples
and she squeezed gently, massaging and squeezing until she could
feel how sharp little frissons of pleasure found their way to her
centre, causing it to swell and throb lightly. 

"I'm wet, Chakotay..."

"Good," Chakotay said. "Now, my love, remember I’m your lover. Feel 
my hands: large and rough, yet gentle as they explore your body. 
Feel them covering your breasts fully again, giving them a squeeze 
before settling at your incredibly narrow waist..."

Kathryn let her hands travel to her waist, imagining Chakotay's
hands on her. In a few moments, she would be unable to establish
whose hands so expertly treated her body to the most sensual 
touches. The image of Chakotay began to superimpose itself over 
hers in the mirror. She reared immediately into readiness as she 
felt his hands go to the delicate triangle of hair.

"My Kathryn, your skin is so soft, so smooth, the mere touch of
my hands on it sends me dizzy..."

"I know, Chakotay," she whispered hoarsely as she felt his fingers
entangle themselves in the delicate hair, damp from her flowing
juices. He twirled a few strands between his fingers, the tips 
lightly brushing over her swollen folds. She moaned as desire drove 
through her.

"Spread, Kathryn..."

"Ahhhh..." she moaned again as she threw her head back and spread 
her legs a little to allow her hands - Chakotay's hands - to brush 
over her vulva. She felt hot, and her skin had a sheen. With her 
eyes closed she could see and feel Chakotay over her, against her, 
his lips everywhere... She drew in her breath, a hissing sound.

"That's it, my love... Good, good... Now I’m  kneeling in front of 
you, my hands are holding your derriere and kneading it while my
mouth is ready to cover you.” 

"Easy...easy now..."

Kathryn began to moan uncontrollably, her head tossing from side to
side as she stood in front of the mirror, her legs spread and bent
a little. 

She thought she could actually feel Chakotay's warm breath on her, 
but it was only Wotan raising the temperature of the aft section.

“I can feel your tongue...”

"That's it... Now use your hands, Kathryn, imagine it's my mouth, 
and your finger is my tongue," Chakotay coaxed through the mists 
of pleasure as she tried to push against her own hand and mewled 
softly, like a kitten.

"My  mouth closes in on your soft centre, my love... feel my lips 
cover yours...the heat of it is searing..."

Kathryn could feel how Chakotay's mouth latched on her vulva, his 
lips and tongue so hot it burned deliciously through her. She gave 
a shiver of pleasure. "Oh, yessss..." she hissed as she imagined 
his tongue separating her soft, swollen folds, already dripping 
with her juices. He licked against her, his teeth nipping each fold 
gently. She gave an involuntary cry as his tongue slipped into her. 
Beads of sweat formed on her brow, and she rocked gently while 
panting in short gasps. Two fingers had slipped into her vagina and 
she felt her whole body began to build into a swell of pleasure 
about to burst.

"How does it feel, my love..." Chakotay whispered as again she 
sensed only his mouth on her, his tongue darting in and out. 

"Now, my love, I’ll unsheathe your little clit... Don't be alarmed, 
Kathryn, when I close my teeth around it. It will be a gentle bite, 
gently... gentle...easy now," he soothed as she started to buck. 
She felt the tiny fold over her clitoris give way to expose the 
little erect nub.  

"Ready, Kathryn?" Chakotay said softly, but very distinctly, 
although Kathryn was lost in the swirling mass of tingling 
nerve-endings that were about to explode.

"Yes, my love..." she croaked, then hissed long and pleasurably
as she felt Chakotay's teeth - her own fingers - close on her clit. 
The pressure was gentle at first, then he nipped hard suddenly. She 
keened loudly as her body started to heave and heave, the heat 
suffusing her almost unbearably as Chakotay released her clit, then 
sucked her juices from her. 

"Chakotay!!!!"  She screamed his name over and over as she exploded
and crashed over the edge. Her head was thrown far back, and her 
screams reverberated through the shuttle as she sank to her knees, 
her fingers still deeply embedded in her vagina... She had little 
time to recover as Chakotay said:

"There's more... rise, Kathryn..."

Gasping, she rose slowly, her body still hot and sweating. 

"Now I’m standing up against you, my love. Put your feet on mine and 
let me walk you to your bed."

She mimicked the action and slowly stepped backwards until she felt 
the back of her knees against the bed.

"It's done..."

"Lie down, sweet Kathryn, on your back and spread your legs for
me...”

Her hands caressed her creamy, soft skin while she spread her legs.
She was completely in the throes of passion and would do anything
Chakotay told her to do.

"Remember my love, your hands will trace my movements," Chakotay
said as he waited a few seconds for Kathryn to settle.

"Yes..." she purred. Chakotay detected the slight vibration of the
sound coming from her throat. Her hands were all over her, smearing
her with her juices, pressing, dipping, kneading.

"My body covers your body, you can feel my weight over you,"

Kathryn gave a deep sigh as she imagined she felt Chakotay 
pressing his large frame against her. 

"My mouth is close to yours, you can hear my breathing, feel how
my lips brush very lightly against your own..."

Kathryn's fingers traced the outline of her lips in a feather-light
caress; her lips opened as she allowed the fingers in her mouth.

"My tongue dips into your mouth, tracing your teeth and touching
your own tongue. You can feel the heat of it, my love... You want
more of me in your mouth, my Kathryn. Do it now, gently...gently,"
he cautioned as three of her fingers probed her mouth and she 
sucked hungrily on them... 

"You feel my hard arousal press into your centre, and you raise
your hips... My mouth leaves yours, to capture your left breast.
Remember your hands Kathryn... My mouth is over your aureole, and 
when I suck, I want to draw more of your breast into my mouth."

Kathryn moaned out loud as her hands cupped her left breast as 
she mimicked the action, pressing and kneading so that half of her 
breast appeared to be one large nipple. She mewled and gave little 
keening cries as she imagined Chakotay sucking.

"The right breast..."  Kathryn started bucking as she complied. 
Her eyes closed and lips parted, breathing raggedly and gasping,
she gave herself over to the overpowering sensations that ripped
through her body as she heaved and sweated.

Then Chakotay moved to her navel, where he laved her, eliciting 
such erotic impulses that she cried out. His tongue lapped 
generously at her soft belly, dipping into her navel, then nipping 
her skin here and there. She arched and writhed, while her head 
tossed from side to side. 

"Now, Chakotay..."

Kathryn felt him move over her again, his mouth on hers.

"Feel my penis nudging your opening. Your vagina is a ripe fig, 
a fruit, pink and inviting, just waiting to be eaten... You shift 
ever so gently to allow my shaft full passage into you, but for 
now, I am content to rub my penis against your delicious fruit...”

She writhed and tried to raised her hips...

"Easy, Kathryn...to soon for that..." He knew. So she let Chakotay
rub her, tease her, his hard shaft massaging, the tip just hovering
to enter, then pulling away.

She groaned impatiently and she thought she heard Chakotay's voice:

"Greedy..."

"Oh, yes...”

"Yes..."

"Yessss....!!! came her long hiss as she felt him enter her, slowly,
slowly, filling her tight sheath. She could feel her sheath muscles
close around him, contracting and relaxing as she squeezed and
squeezed.

"Feel it..."

It rose slowly in her, a tidal wave coming closer and closer; her
body heaved, contorted, sweated, spilled her fluids; she bucked 
wildly as the first waves crashed over and she screamed and 
screamed and screamed.

It was Chakotay's name, over and over. Wotan remained silent for 
the next few minutes while he waited for her to float down from her
explosive orgasm. He could hear her cries, her ragged breathing, 
then her gasps and panting, the keening and finally, purring like 
a kitten. 

Kathryn lay on the bed, legs and arms spread in wild abandon, her 
body bathed in sweat. At her centre, where her fingers were still 
deep inside her vagina, the lips that clung to her fingers were 
pulsing gently for long minutes until it eventually came to rest.

Wotan waited.

Kathryn started sobbing.

Uncontrollably. 

He let her cry her heart out. When she stopped eventually, she 
heard him speak at last.

"My Kathryn..."

"Chakotay..."

"Sleep now, my love. I will sing for you..."

He started singing softly, "Kathryn Klein..." and only stopped 
when his sensors picked up her even breathing. She slept soundly, 
completely naked, with her hand still resting on the patch of hair 
at her centre. 

******

END PART FIVE
TBC:Part 6/7


DIARY OF A MADWOMAN

PART SIX

Day 730

"Captain Janeway is regressing, Roya," Kru'dan remarked, without 
looking at his partner, and staring intently at the shuttle 
Sacajawea. "We see less and less of her. She does not move around
as much anymore, my friend."

, thought Roya, feeling
a little surly. It was the truth and he was filled with concern. 
The personal logs he had been keeping for almost two years indicated 
that Captain Janeway had finally reached the end of her endurance. 
He wanted to make some smart comment, but said:

"Yes, she is not herself."

"Roya, she has not been herself for a long time."

.

"Yes, I know that, Kru'dan," he replied, his voice tinged with a 
little edginess. 

"We must do something, my friend," Kru'dan said and Roya was 
certain he heard concern in his partner's voice. When Kru'dan 
turned his gaze away from the viewport and looked at Roya, Roya's 
suspicion was confirmed. Another thought struck Roya like a bolt: 
could it be that Kru'dan could possibly be seeking his counsel, 
his help? , thought Roya. Kru'dan was at a loss! 
He didn't know what to do. Yet, when Roya spoke again, he let 
Kru'dan have the benefit of the decision-making again.

"What do you suggest we do, Kru'dan?" he asked.

"Do you think it would be a good idea for us to take turns and keep
her company during the day?"

"That would be a very good idea, Kru'dan. I think it will work. But 
I am certain the lady Janeway would not be happy with it. 

"But we - "

" - can at least try. Yes, I know that, Kru'dan."

***********

She stared at the viewscreen, seeing...nothing, naturally. Her 
thoughts were not, however, on what or was not out there. They 
were on Kru'dan and Roya's visit. Good-natured souls that they 
were, they had offered to keep her company virtually full time. 

She gave a tired sigh. 

She had little inclination for their company these days. What days 
were they? she wondered. Not dog days, or halcyon days, or happy 
days or just plain normal days. Kru'dan's visit merely emphasized 
her isolation, her melancholy. He confirmed what Wotan had 
determined already, and although unintentionally, Kru'dan and Roya 
had rubbed it in that her journey to the end of the void would take 
another six months. 

She listened to them as calmly as she could without exploding into 
another frenzy of tears. She noted absently the expectant look on
their fleshy faces, the lips drawn back from their teeth, and their 
red eyes which never left her face as they waited for her response.
She did not want to see their sympathetic glances on her all the 
time; she sensed they felt sorry for her. She didn’t want that.

They were disappointed.
 
"I take comfort in the knowledge that you are out there, Kru'dan,
watching over me," she said. She had been tired, hadn't slept 
properly for days, and hadn't eaten again, much to Wotan's 
annoyance.

They had taken the news philosophically, accepted her decision and 
left. They would only visit for short periods, and only upon her
request. Kathryn had seen Roya's eyes on the computer terminal, 
seen him watch as Wotan's panels displayed data from time to time. 

She snorted delicately. Wotan was on his non-communicative best
behaviour. Even in the dire circumstances in which she found 
herself, Wotan was technology that could not be shared. 

Six months. 

For her, another lifetime. There was nothing to look forward to.
She had little strength left with which to fight the bleakness of 
her existence. She felt like screaming most of the time, just 
looking at the viewscreen. Now the oppressive and claustrophobic 
confines of the shuttle were closing in on her. 

Another six months... It loomed like an insurmountable hurdle 
before her, and everyday of the past two years had been a battle to 
summon her strength to go on. Now... now she was ready to collapse, 
unable to continue...

"I can't anymore, Wotan. I can't ride with you..."

"You can, Kathryn, my Valkyrie. Believe that you can. I'll be with 
you all the way. Do it, please... for me, for you, for Chakotay, 
for the crew you so valiantly sent forth..."

"Does it still matter, Wotan?" she asked as she turned to face his 
screen. 

Wotan, in his way, took in her appearance. Though he could not see
through human eyes, his sensors picked up her low erythrocyte count 
which indicated a paleness, her anaemic condition; he knew she
had not replicated food in days; whatever he replicated himself,
he had to recycle. He sensed her extreme thinness compared to what 
she had weighed only a month before. He knew she was near the end 
of her endurance, and in the next six months he was going to have 
to use every trick in his database to keep her going. 

"It matters, Kathryn. It matters. You are flesh and blood, a 
physical being raised to respect the sanctity of life. Your life, 
Kathryn. Your life. When we reach the end of the void, you will 
know that it was worth every minute, every hour, every day that 
you traveled here. To keep alive, Kathryn, for the sake of your 
crew. Believe it, believe they are out there, waiting for you..."

"You make it sound grand, noble - "

"No, my dear Kathryn. *You* made it noble, something beautiful, 
a wonderful and honourable sacrifice for Voyager and your crew. 

"I don't have a crew, Wotan," she said, giving a soft sob as 
memories of her people overcame her. Flashes of Neelix with his
lopsided chef's hat, Chell, the Bolian, little Naomi. Kathryn's 
voice sounded so sad and her eyes tender.

"Kathryn, my love, they are what have kept you going, just thinking
that they made if safely through the vortex. You did it, Kathryn,
for them. They will never forget what you've done for them."

"I am paying the price - "

"Dammit, Kathryn..."

"I used to be sensational..."

"On the 'True Love', yes, Kathryn. But this is not ‘High Society’, 
and you are not Tracy Lord. You are Kathryn Janeway, of the 
Federation Starship USS Voyager."

"Who am I?"

"You are who made me, Kathryn Janeway."

"I need you, Wotan..." she said on a note of desperation.

"I need you too, Kathryn. My programme is developing and adapting
because of you. Of course, I get to inherit all your vices..."

She laughed for the first time, then turned her attention to the
panels in front of her again. She began to sing, and seconds later
Wotan joined her.

"I am sensational!!!!"

*****************

Day 740

Wotan, recording Kathryn's condition for the day: Extreme 
melancholy. It took me an hour just to wake her up. Her movements 
were sluggish, and I failed to get her to eat again. She refused 
all nutrients except to drink her juice. 

She is unable to respond to any of my attempts to cheer her up. 
Her health is deteriorating. It is extremely difficult to get her 
to get out of her bed. Her present inclination is to lie down 
and linger.

Day 750

Kathryn dragged her tired body from the bed and set about cleaning
the aft section. Her hands held the cloth limply as she went about
the simple tasks. 

"Kathryn."

"Hmmm...?"

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up, Wotan."

"Why?"

"I need to keep busy, can't you see?" she said coldly.

"Kathryn, sit here with me."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"You shouldn’t overdo it, my daughter. Now, rest for a while, 
then you can - “

"No!!!"

Silence as her voice echoed in the shuttle. His sensors picked up
her movement through her body temperature, and he knew that she
continued with whatever cleaning she was doing. 

Wotan remained quiet until Kathryn stopped working, which was about 
an hour later.

"What are you thinking, Kathryn?" he asked. 

It was quiet a very long time before she came to sit in the seat
facing his console and looked at the screen. She was glad he did 
not have the bunny's face. Instead, he looked again like Dietrich 
Fischer-Dieskau as he appeared in *Das Rheingold*. The eye-patch
gave him an added pained, tortured look. She knew it was the look
of Wotan as he finally cut Brynhilde out of his life. How did he
know? she wondered, then pushed away that thought as she realised
that all his adapting and development had come from continuously
monitoring her, in every mood and emotion. 

"I'm preparing to go home, Wotan," Kathryn said, her voice clear 
and firm, although she still felt weak from self-deprivation. She 
was on a path of self-destruction, had been for a long time. She 
was aware that her periods of deep depression and despair were 
becoming so that there was no longer a clearly discernable period 
of lucidity. Wotan was aware of this. Right now, she felt strangely 
resigned, but it was not something she wanted Wotan to sense. She 
knew he would not stop trying to keep her alert, awake, lucid, 
alive... 

Now, the time has come to make a change. 

"I'm carrying on, no matter how tired I am, or sick of this void,”
she said, knowing deep inside how, despite the hopefulness of her 
words, that was not what she felt.

"That is good, Janeway," he said. "Very good. Then I, Wotan, your
humble servant, will be at your side - "

"Wotan!" Kathryn gave a little laugh. "You, humble?"

"Ever so, Janeway. I will protect you, so that the ring will bring
you the unity and peace you crave."

"Yes..."

"And you can greet your crew with pride, my Kathryn."

"Yes..."

"Now, what shall we do for the day, my dear?"

***********

Day 770

Wotan was in despair. The past five days he struggled to rouse 
Kathryn from her extreme melancholy. She showed little inclination 
now to engage him in chess, or other games, or simply to sing and 
tell stories. Most of the time she lay on her bed, still in her 
nightgown when it was already mid-day in Earth hours. She would 
lie there, not talking, not moving. Late in the day, he could 
sense her dragging her body from the bed; she would walk around 
unsteadily before lying down again. 

Some days, she was totally lucid, and he would be glad. Then she 
would sit in her command seat and plot courses, prepare for 
landings on planets once they cleared the void, would talk 
about seeing stars and nebulas and sunshine again. Her excitement 
was at fever pitch as he recorded her body temperature and hormone 
levels. But days such as these were becoming fewer and fewer; the 
incoherent and irrational days becoming the norm. And that 
concerned him, because if it continued, the distorted norm could
eventually become Kathryn’s reality.

She tried, though, and her attempts, had he been human enough to 
appreciate them, were pathetic to behold.

Playing back yesterday morning's conversation caused him real 
concern. She had managed to fool him for once. Thinking that she 
was preparing to set her goal of reaching the end of Susurran space 
in record time, was really not the case. She had been lying on her 
bed, her movements slow and laboured:

"Wotan..."

"What can I do for you, Kathryn?"

"I did the right thing, didn't I?"

"Yes, it was a courageous thing to do. You sent your crew on. No 
one can fault you for such a valorous act, Captain Janeway."

"You...don't...think I was selfish?"

"Why no, Captain."

"Liar..."

"Kathryn..."

"It's eating me up, Wotan..."

"What is?"

"This...this constant feeling that - that I have...failed."

"Kathryn, we have come so far. Do not give up now. Look, soon we 
will reach our destination - "

"Liar..."

"Yes - "

"Liar..."

"I have been your friend too long, Kathryn. I will never lie to
you..." There was a pause, then Wotan spoke again:

"Let me sing for you, Kathryn."

"Leave me alone, Wotan."

"I cannot do that, Kathryn."

"Leave me alone."

"No..."

Kathryn rose slowly from her bed, stumbled up to the computer and 
deactivated him for the rest of the day. She did not say a word, 
just switched him off. Late that evening, she switched him on again.

"I'm sorry, Wotan..."

"It is nothing, Kathryn. You are not well, my dear. Please let me 
help you."

She looked at the face of the one-eyed Wotan for long seconds, then 
calmly went about getting ready for bed, without answering him.

*

Now she lay again on her bed, in some sort of stupor. Her mind had
slipped into a world where she could not command her body to move.
Wotan was in cyber-despair. 

*********

Day 771

"How do I look, Wotan?" Kathryn Janeway asked as she stood at her 
mirror, and smoothed down her uniform over her hips. It sat very 
loosely on her, but still elegant.

"Handsome," Wotan said. He knew the drill. Say the words. His 
sensors picked up the composition of the fabric, the metal pips. 
He sensed that she was in her uniform. 

Her fingers caressed the row of pips on her collar. Her hair
was smooth. 

"I sense another metal on your person, Kathryn. It is - "

"Yes, the fob watch and chain Chakotay gave me for my birthday,"
she filled in. , she thought.

She walked slowly to face his screen, and sat down in the chair.

"You look beautiful, Kathryn," Wotan said.

"You can't see me."

"Kathryn, I know. And you know as well as I do that, like a 
tricorder, I simply take readings of your body temperature, the 
hormonal changes, your blood count, and by just - "

"I know, Wotan..."

"Computing and making comparatives assessments that - "

"I know..." she sighed.

“I sense every emotion in you, Kathryn, and I say you are 
beautiful."

"Hey, no more compliments. Now, Wotan, I'm going to lie down. 
Don't disturb me," she said softly as she rose again and went to 
her bed. She lay down on her back, her arms at her sides, and 
stared up at the ceiling; minutes later her eyes closed.

************

Day 775

The Sacajawea made its way silently through the void. Six Susurran
vessels - their commanders had been instructed by Kru'dan when the 
Sacajawea passed them - moved in quiet grace alongside the shuttle. 
They flanked her sides, yet maintained a respectful distance. All 
six commanders had been instructed by Kru'dan to accompany the 
Sacajawea the rest of its journey to the end of the void. 

They respected the Captain's wishes not to enter her shuttle, or
communicate with her further. Their respect for her was great
indeed. Through her selfless act, most of the Susurran people 
recovered from the Sickness. Already, stories and legends were 
resounding all over Susurran space of this traveler, this valiant 
captain who sent her crew home and elected to remain behind and 
help them. They considered it a great honour to sail with her on 
her journey. But they understood from Kru'dan and Roya, who had 
become her friends, that Captain Janeway was ill. It was not an 
illness they could help her with. It was an illness of the 
heart and the mind.

So they moved with her, the small fleet resembling a sombre 
procession; ghostly images that appeared only slightly visible
in the black of the void. There was an atmosphere of gloom as the
procession passed other Susurran vessels, which, as the Sacajawea
passed them, dipped their wings in respectful salute. 

*********

"Kathryn, wake up, please," Wotan pleaded. He sensed her lifesigns
were failing, and that she was in a state of complete inertia. 
She did not move, and for four days, did not get up. She lay on her
bed, fully dressed. If she did not get up now...

"Hey, Janeway!" he shouted, thinking to rouse her that way, but
there was no response. Then he sang:

"Someone's rocking my dreamboat,"
Someone's invading my dreammmmm!!!!!!!!"

At the sound of that voice and that song, she stirred slightly, 
her eyes glazed and fixed on some point on the bulkhead. 

"Wotan..." Her voice was soft, weak and breathy.

"Please, Kathryn, please get up."

"Tell me..."

"You did well, my Kathryn. You are redeemed. You have paid your
debt. There is no guilt... no remorse..."

"No more pain?"

"No, my child. No more pain," Wotan soothed. 

"The - the needs..."

"I know, Kathryn, sweet Kathryn, my Brynhilde... the needs of the 
many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one..."

"Then I have done well?" she asked weakly, before she closed her
eyes again and sighed gently. 

"Yes, Captain Kathryn Janeway," Wotan said, "yes, you have done
well.  My extraordinary, courageous Captain, you have done well,
indeed," he said, even though he knew she could not hear him.

With only the lights from the conn and Wotan's console, the shuttle 
was cast in an eerie gloom. Kathryn Janeway's face was pale in the 
deep, reddish glow of the lit panels. Her face was gaunt, eyes 
sunken, and only occasionally a muscle in her jaw twitched in some 
remembered dream or nightmare. Her lips were parted slightly, and 
her breathing shallow. Tucked in the waist band of her uniform was 
the fob watch, around which her hand clasped and unclasped from 
time to time. 

**********

"Kathryn, wake up."

"Hey, what's up, Kathryn?"

"Ain't I a stinker..."

"Janeway!!!!!!!"

Wotan began to sing:

"Brynhilde!
Heavenly bride!
Look up! Open thine eyelids!
What has sunk thee 
once more in sleep?
What drowns thee in slumber so deep?"

"Kathryn, look! Wake up, please."

"Captain Janeway!!!"

"Kathryn Janeway!"

But Kathryn Janeway did not wake up. She stirred slightly and 
moaned, then became quiet again. 

"It's over, Kathryn."

"Kathryn, look! It's Voyager! Look Kathryn!"

"Heavenly bride! Open your eyes!"

"Hail Voyager!"
 
***********

"One lifesign, Captain," came Harry Kim's voice from his station. 

"It is Captain Janeway, Captain Chakotay," Tuvok confirmed. 

Chakotay stood level with the conning station, behind Tom Paris, 
whose eyes were fixed on the small armada on the main viewscreen. 
Chakotay's hands were at his sides, and those who took time to
notice, saw his fingers tremble as he said:

"Voyager to Sacajawea, do you read?"

Silence for one second.

"Voyager to Janeway. Come in Janeway..."

"Kathryn, this is Chakotay..."

*******

In the shuttle Wotan recorded the sudden appearance from subspace
of Voyager. She sat in the viewscreen, suspended in space, the
familiar teaspoon shape of her primary hull throwing off dull
flashes of blue-grey. 

"Kathryn!" he called her, "look!"

Silence.

"Voyager to Janeway," Captain Chakotay's voice sounded in the
shuttle. "Kathryn, this is Chakotay..."

Kathryn Janeway stirred again and turned her face away from the 
bulkhead. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, closed. The voice penetrated
her tired brain. Her hand clasped the fob watch tighter. The
effort to open her eyes was painful. The viewscreen appeared to 
her like a mirage, the silent, waiting image of Voyager 
another trick of the imagination.

Fata Morgana...mirage...fantastic trick...dream image...

"Kathryn, this is Chakotay..."

She turned her face to the bulkhead again and closed her eyes, her 
hand clutched the watch so convulsively that her knuckles showed 
white against her already pale skin. 

A single tear escaped, rolled down her cheek.

One word she uttered just before her body was engulfed in the 
familiar blue shimmer of the transporter beam. 

"Chakotay..."

***************
END PART 6
TBC: Part 7/7 (Epilogue)


DIARY OF A MADWOMAN

PART SEVEN: EPILOGUE

Five months later. On route from Deep Space Nine to Earth.

Captain Kathryn Janeway and Commander Chakotay walked briskly 
through the corridors of Voyager to the nearest turbolift that 
would take them to the shuttle bays. Immaculate in their command 
red, they made a striking pair as they passed the crew on their 
way. She greeted and nodded and smiled. From time to time 
Chakotay's hand would touch hers, and she would look at him, her 
eyes tender as she smiled. Her hair shone and bounced lightly as 
she turned to those she greeted. Her skin was again the healthy 
colour of years before. 

Chakotay looked at Kathryn as they approached the turbolift, and
with his hand against her back, they entered. 

"Are you okay?" he asked when the doors closed and the smile left
her face. His hand came up and smoothed the hair from her face.
Her own hand covered his. The ring was still on her ring finger.

She just nodded, then sighed.

By all accounts, according to their EMH, Captain Janeway had 
completely recovered, though she still had trouble with strong 
light. Sometimes, too, nightmares rocked her awake in the middle 
of the night, nightmares terrifying to deal with had she been 
alone. But the calming presence of Chakotay, who would take her 
in his arms and hold her close, soothe her with his voice, brought 
her to the present again. He would hug her for long moments while 
her body shivered until it stopped. Then, he would spoon her body 
to his; she would welcome the protection and sigh contentedly. Not 
a word would be spoken between them, but she felt his peace flow 
into her.

Her travel through the void was not something she wanted to dwell
on too often. 

Chakotay looked down at her, and remembered how desperate his
order had been five months ago when he had her transported directly
to Voyager's sickbay. With magnificent insight he instructed the
Doctor to lower the light settings to eight percent. He had a
feeling then... 

The shuttle had been brought into the shuttle bay, and there it 
remained unused. He ordered a forcefield placed around it so that 
only he, and eventually Kathryn, would enter the shuttle for the 
first time. All her official logs had been downloaded into 
Voyager's computer. However, her personal logs proved the most 
revealing of her trials in the void. 

She had been in critical condition for a week before she rallied.
Voyager had remained in the void for that week, so that two 
extremely concerned friends could also be assured that she was well 
enough until they could say their final good-byes to her. Only he, 
Chakotay, had been given a download of Kru'dan and Roya's 
assessment of Kathryn's journey through the void. Roya had, without 
Kru'dan’s knowledge, given Chakotay a copy of his own personal logs 
concerning Kathryn's travails. 

After that first week, she kept rambling about a Wotan... Chakotay 
sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to remember those first 
two months. 

Kathryn heard his sigh as they exited the turbolift and headed for 
the shuttle bay. She stopped suddenly and turned to face him.

"Chakotay..."

"You can do it, Kathryn," he said to her calmly. She looked 
gratefully at him, and took his hand in hers. She nodded again, 
then walked ahead of him. Her steps were measured as she approached 
the Sacajawea.

The forcefield had been released by one of Tuvok's senior security
staff members. The door lifted, and Kathryn looked again at 
Chakotay, a sort of pleading in her eyes. She then turned and 
walked up the small ramp. He followed her. It had been her request.

The shuttle was empty. All her personal effects and the furnishings 
she used in the two years she spent in this confined space had been 
removed months before. Now it stood bare, hardly a sign that she 
had lived in it for so long. All except...

She felt Chakotay's hand on her shoulder, and she turned into his 
arms. He held her like that, his hand coming up to cup her head, 
feeling the softness of her hair. 

"Shhh...Kathryn, it will be alright," he whispered. 

He kissed the top of her head, then her forehead. It felt warm to 
him, as if she were feverish. Then he gave her a gentle push toward 
the computer. She seated herself in the chair at Wotan's console. 
Chakotay stood a little behind her. 

She looked to him again, and he smiled. 

"I'm here, Kathryn..." his smile and eyes said. 

She turned to the computer. The last time she had been in here had 
been three months ago. It had been so difficult the first two 
months: she couldn't go a day without hearing the voice that had 
carried her for more than two years, talking to him, being sung 
to....Wotan’s. And, every time it had been Chakotay who would come 
into the shuttle to calm her, switch off the computer, and 
transport the two of them to her quarters. 

Her hand reached out and she activated the consoles. Immediately, 
the panels lit up, and Wotan's face appeared. He wore his now 
familiar eye patch.

"Finally. After three months, two days, three hours and fifteen
seconds."  Wotan paused dramatically. 

"What took you so long?" he asked with a petulant sound to his
voice. 

Chakotay managed not to laugh, still too amazed at Kathryn's 
creation.

"I was busy, Wotan..."

"No doubt with...*him*," he said again on a dramatic air, and 
nodding his head, knowing that Chakotay was there.

"Running the ship, Wotan. I am the Captain, remember?" she said
softly. 

"Yes, yes, I know, my wish-maiden. We are on Voyager. We have been
for five months."

"Yes..."

"My Kathryn," he crooned. "I missed you."

"I know, Wotan."

"You were away long, Kathryn..."

"Wotan..."

Chakotay could feel the tension building in the shuttle, saw 
Kathryn's erect stance, the squaring of her shoulders. He smiled 
tightly. He knew she would not digress from her decision. She 
needed to face Wotan now, or she would never.

"Shall I sing you to sleep, Kathryn?" Wotan asked.

Kathryn smiled sadly. How many nights had he done that for her? But 
now...she had to finally sever her dependence on him. Just knowing 
his programme was still active caused her to have painful 
withdrawals. Her crew, her people, Chakotay...filled that void now,
one that Wotan had filled for two years. It was time...

"Wotan..." she said again.

"Eh...what's up, Kathryn?" he asked as he slipped his Bugs Bunny
face on. He swung the carrot at her before he bit off a chunk and
started chomping noisily.

"I...have to let...you go, Wotan..."

The eye-patch came on quickly, and Wotan looked...surprised.

"My Kathryn?"

"Yes..."

"You cannot do that, Kathryn. I need you, my love, my Daughter
of the Valkyrie, my Brynhilde. And you...need...me..." he said,
as his subroutines registered the true meaning of her intent.

"I have to, Wotan. It's what I need...to do..." she said slowly, 
her voice starting to falter.  Chakotay wondered suddenly whether 
she should go through with this.

"We have shared too many things, my Kathryn. I have been everything
to you. I kept you alive...alive...alive..."

Kathryn swung round suddenly to face Chakotay, and for a moment
there was a distraught look on her face. Then she turned to face
Wotan again.

"I am sorry, Wotan. So sorry," she whispered.

Wotan looked equally desperate as his face contorted and he broke
into song. It was terrible in its pain, the voice trembling with
emotion as each word poured from him:

"You chose my lot, that you were to me;
Yet you choose against me...
You stirred the hero in me, 
Yet you choose against me...
What you were, Wotan has uttered,
No longer my wish-maiden, creator,
Once you were my Valkyrie;
Henceforth remain only yourself!"

Wotan sang in the voice of the grand baritone of the past, his 
pain and betrayal evident. Kathryn closed her eyes, felt the tears 
sting. She knew these words, knew every word of the Valkyrie... 

But Wotan continued, his voice soft and tender, as if his initial 
anger and disappointment had dissipated. Now the words were kind, 
loving:

"Farewell, my brave and beautiful child!
For once the life and light of my heart!
May I grant you my greeting:
Henceforth my Kathryn shall never more with me ride,
When I relinquish you, my beloved daughter,
I am heart-torn, let me give you this kiss
and for all time restore to you, your life!"

Wotan looked at Kathryn, then smiled as he said:

"Kathryn klein, no...longer...alone...alone...alone..."

Kathryn turned once more to look at Chakotay, smiled at him and
turned to face Wotan again. Slowly her hands reached out, and her
fingers hovered above the panels...

*********
END


Here are the sources I used in my research for "Diary of a 
Madwoman:

Sources:

1. Donington, Robert: Wagner's 'Ring' and its symbols - The Music
and the Myth.

2. Crown Publishers, Inc. NY: The Authentic librettos of the Wagner 
Operas. 

3. The lullaby "Kathryn Klein" was copied from Jeri Taylor's 
"Mosaic". The lullaby, however, is a very old folk song used by 
that author in the novel. Original words: "Hänschen klein, ging 
allein." 

This lullaby is also known by thousands of South African children
who know it as "Hansie slim." When I read Mosaic a year ago, I was
struck by the cadences of the song, and although in German, my
Afrikaans background made it possible for me to recognise the 
rhythm, structure, and meaning of some the words of this folk song. 

"little Kathryn (Hänschen), goes alone
out into the wide world

Something like that. Very loose translation!

My thanks to Inge Oliver and Hubert Kurzweil for their input.

4. The poems: Two poems appear here in the story, both written by 
this author. "All that I have of him..." is one of a set of 
quatrains with the original title: Remembrance. The verse from the 
Vulcan Love Song Cantos was written for this story. 


5. I really don't know where "Someone's rocking my dreamboat"
originated, only that Bugs Bunny sings it in his cartoons. My
thanks to Warner Brothers for the use of their character, and the
verse.

6. Wotan's arias: 

"Brynhilde! Heavenly bride!", "You chose my lot" (slightly adapted)
and "Farewell, my brave and beautiful child!" are sung by Wotan in
the opera: The Valkyrie (Die Walküre). I have also used the English
version of Brünnhilde's name in the story. 

7. The baritone, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau: German baritone who made
his opera debut in the Berlin German Opera in 1948, and from 1954
at the Bayreuth Opera. Known mostly for the over 600 lieder he sang
as a lieder singer, he performed Wotan in two complete cycles of
Wagner's "Der Ring Des Nibelungen." Most of the time in the story,
Wotan takes the face of the German baritone. 

8. When I thought of what to call the void (or at least what
Kathryn would call it), I had been reading the very inspirational
"Surprised by Joy", the autobiography of C.S. Lewis. Lewis had
been introduced to the Wagner operas as a child, and was deeply 
interested in Norse Mythology. "Surprised by Joy" therefore, was the 
inspiration for the inclusion of Wagner's Ring, and the creation of 
Wotan in my story.

9. My thanks to Dee, who suggested the NC-17 section in the story,
and once again, my appreciation for my betareader, Monique.  

    Source: geocities.com/area51/crater/6253