Whispers And Echoes

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Well, I think I'm all thought out," she'd said in that sexy, smoky voice, alerting him to the fact that the game was still afoot. "How about you, Chakotay, are you relaxed?" He was aware of the flimsy garment sliding from her shoulders onto the platform behind her an instant before she submerged into the dark, concealing water. "I do my best thinking in the tub," she purred. She delighted in watching his mouth as he spoke and his eloquent gestures—the language of his finely toned body.

Who are you Kathryn Janeway?" he whispered aloud. He knew more about her bloody dogs than he did about her. Kate’s ears flushed in anger. “So what, we’re just giving up?! I just found my dad again, and now you’re telling me that the same man who made him forget me is going to make me forget him?” She ripped off her green hat and buried her face into the knit fabric with a small sob. Although he’d built it for her and it undoubtedly was her bathtub, every now and then, late in the night when she invariably never used it, he would occasionally draw a bath and relax for a little while. That evening, he'd been in it for about ten minutes, just floating on a cloud of steam when he heard her sultry voice purring directly into his ear, "Do you mind if I join you, Chakotay?" Constance patted his hair, a bit awkwardly, and he looked up at her. “You know they will not. They are not cowards.” Suddenly the door opened with a clang; a sliver of blindingly bright light cut through the dimness, so that all the children could make out were the shapes of two larger figures depositing a third, slumped figure roughly on the floor. In a blink—and before Kate had a chance to fully position herself defensively in front of the others—the door was firmly shut again, leaving the room echoing with stunned silence.

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One moonless night, a young scholar named Aria ventured into the labyrinthine depths of the library. With an insatiable curiosity and a heart hungry for adventure, she stumbled upon the ancient tome, its cover adorned with intricate, long-forgotten symbols. Kathryn turned gingerly in her bed again for the billionth time as she tried to find a position that would accommodate her aching body. The evening had been perfect—his dinner superb—but it seemed to her now that there were special lumps in her Starfleet issue, ultra-ergonomic mattress made just to torture her poor, abused flesh. Another painful whimper escaped her before she could stop it, as she discovered that her right calf had cramped into a tight ball. She held her breath and listened as she tried to sit up and massage the offending leg. All four children were now gathered around Mr. Benedict’s still form, unsure what to do. Constance gingerly reached out to pat his face. Right. And as for the rest I suspect… I suspect he wants this to seem like a kindness—giving me a few final hours with you—but really he’s twisting the knife. He’s hurting you to hurt me. I will never forgive myself for that.” He held the three large fish up, two in one hand and a large green one in the other as he recovered his voice. "Tonight we eat like kings Kathryn," he quipped. "Only these three fine fellows were in the trap—either the smaller ones were too smart to get trapped, smart enough to navigate their way out, too small for the mesh I used, or too dumb to get away from these greedy guys. Anyway, I'm going to clean them before I take my shower; dinner should be ready in about ninety minutes."

She nodded absently as she became caught up in the readings from the fish. "So Mr. Green Beastie, you're not fit for human consumption," she muttered. He didn't answer her as he finished filleting the first fish, familiar by now with her habit of talking aloud while her mind raced through a scientific problem. "Interesting," she said after a few more minutes of silence. "There are two compounds here I haven't seen before. I'm going to freeze Mr. Beastie here and take some samples in the morning. Perhaps in a few days we can see about capturing a live specimen—see exactly what they're being used for. She wrenched her wrists out of his grasp and ran sobbing from the room, leaving him stunned. He didn't know what had gone wrong within those few fleeting seconds. All he could comprehend was that the look in her eyes had gone instantly from frightened to something infinitely worse. It wasn't something that he could put his finger on, but he knew that it was something that he’d seen before—he didn't know where or when, but he knew he had, and he knew that fear couldn't even begin to describe it. Well, I haven't heard this one," he'd answered in frustration. "But I've heard countless others just like it—it is simply a flute." Chakotay took a chance and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shaking body. After stiffening for a moment, she slowly relaxed as if she'd made up her mind and laid her head on his shoulder as she wept. "You didn't fail them Kathryn," he said stroking her slightly damp hair as he held her. "You took them as far as you could, then you did what was best for them; you entrusted them to Tuvok's care when you were no longer able to go on. No one could have foreseen this Kathryn, it wasn't your fault … no one is to blame." This paper will be discussed at the January 2021 FREE virtual journal club ‘CAMHS around the campfire’ do please sign up. Plus there is a research digest of the paper, and a more expansive 30 podcast with Dr. Sarah Parry on the topic.Adolescent, but effective—maybe too effective. It conjured up memories of the first time he'd seen her in nothing more than a simple towel, made more erotic by the fact that she seemed unaware of her nudity as she took a childish delight in the discovery of the monkey. As the animal had disappeared into the night, her mind still focused on finding a cure for their disease, she suddenly became conscious of her situation and it was the first indication he had that she was seeing more than just the Commander in front of her. Now after four months alone together, he could see her actively beginning to consider the possibilities—possibilities he had been ready for a long time before even setting foot on this deserted world. They had talked a little more about Mark, but now Chakotay couldn't remember his last name. He had been someone Kathryn had known all her life—a friendship that had eventually blossomed into love—Johnson, he remembered now, Mark Hobbes Johnson. I've never been quite sure how our relationship evolved into friendship," she replied in a nostalgic voice. "It just did I suppose, once I stopped thinking of him as "that insufferable Vulcan". The first thing I did do however, was start putting up my hair—"

FILIPPO VARESE: I suppose in terms of the favourite things about this study, there are so many. I suppose the first aspect is about actually the focus on the functional aspect of voices and the positive aspect of these unusual experiences in young people, which is often a neglected narrative, I would say. The second aspect, I suppose, that I really enjoyed is the very, I would say, innovative way in which we have engaged our target population, basically, which is using online media, which is quite… Yes, it was an interesting journey, I would say. The expression froze on his face as she turned to him and fixed him with the cruellest smile he'd ever seen on another person's face. "Yeah well, that road is a whole lot shorter than you think, Chakotay—so see you there."It hadn’t been as bad as some storms they'd weathered so far—including the one that had destroyed much of her equipment. But it was still bad enough to be caught in it without any protection, and as the hours dragged on, he had hoped she would have the sense to stay inside where it was safe. She rose in a fury, toppling her chair as she made for the door and he caught her hand as she tried to move past him. "And was Captain Janeway a lie too?" he asked softly. Chakotay laughed heartily as the image of the insubordinate pup defying her sprang into his mind. "Petunia sounds like a certain starship Captain I know." Kathryn joined his laughter as he continued to look into her eyes. "What breed of dog was she?" When Reynie next spoke, he was quiet. “This is not your fault, sir. You aren’t making him do this. He’s an adult.”

A giggle escaped Mr. Benedict’s lips, but in the beat before he fell asleep his eyes showed not humor but terror.Chakotay didn't come home again last night and I've spent the last six hours just lying awake, watching the first snowfall and listening for the sounds that would indicate that he had come home to me ... that he understood what we had to do. I wish it were more,” Reynie mumbled. “That’s not even enough time to… I don’t know, enough time for anything.”