Kim glanced at him. "Six? I thought we were going for lunch."

"We are."

"But the mess hall’s on deck two."

"What?" Paris stared at him briefly, then shook his head. "Harry, I know where the mess room is."

"It’s on deck two," Kim insisted.

"No it’s not. Look, I’ll prove it. Computer, deck two," Paris said just as the lift was beginning to slow. "You show me a mess room on deck two and I’ll give you a week’s worth of replicator rations."

"You’re on." Kim strode out confidently as the doors opened. A couple of corridors later he stood smirking at the entrance to the mess room. "Maybe you should skip lunch and spend some time brushing up on the ship’s layout. Remember, Tom, the bridge is on deck one, Engineering’s deck eleven, Sickbay’s on de--"

"Believe me, I know where Sickbay is," Paris said wryly.

"Funny, that’s what you said about the mess room," Kim retorted as they walked in.

"I was sure it was on deck six."

"Obviously you were wrong," Kim said as they approached the kitchen.

"Wrong about what?" Neelix asked.

"Tom thought the mess room was on deck six."

"But-- it is."

Paris gave him an odd look. "Neelix, we’re on deck two."

"Nooo, Mr Paris, I believe you’re mistaken. This is definitely deck six."

"This is ridiculous." Paris flung his hands in the air. "Computer, which deck are we on?" He paused. "Computer?"

"Unable to comply. Question has no discrete answer."

"What the hell?"

Kim blinked. "Does that mean there’s more than one answer?"

"Affirmative."

He glanced at Paris. "Specify all answers."

"Lieutenant Tom Paris, Ensign Harry Kim and Crewman Neelix are on decks two and six."

Neelix looked puzzled. "Um… What does that mean exactly?"

Kim shook his head. "I’m not sure."

"What happens if we walk out the door?" Paris asked. "Which deck will we be on?"

"I don’t know. Maybe we’ll be on the deck we expect to be on," Kim said, then had a flash of insight. "Hey - it’s Schrodinger’s kitchen!"

"Schrodinger-- Wasn’t that the guy with the dead cat?"

"Yeah, only here it’s the mess room. We exist on both decks… until we walk out the door. Then we’re either on deck two or deck six. The cat’s either alive or dead. Same principle."

"Excuse me." Neelix waved a ladle in front of Kim’s face. "Schrodinger?"

"An earth scientist," Kim explained. "The experiment was that you put a cat in a soundproofed box, then fire a proton at a half-silvered mirror. If the proton goes through, it sets off a chain reaction that kills the cat. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. According to his theory, the cat is both alive *and* dead until you open the box to look. Then it’s one or the other."

Neelix screwed up his face. "What a terrible thing to do to a cat."

"Well, yeah, but that’s not the point."

"So, what you’re saying is that if we walk out that door we’ll set off a chain reaction and wind up dead?"

"No! That would be like the cat dying if it stepped out of the box."

"No," Paris said suddenly. "It would be like the cat dying when it found out it was both alive and dead and tried to find out which."

All three stared at the door.

****

"Janeway to Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim."

Paris glanced up from the table. "We’re here, Captain."

"Where are you? You were supposed to report for shift an hour ago."

Kim winced. "Yes, Captain, we know, but we can’t leave the mess room…"

There was a pause. "I beg your pardon?"

"We can’t leave the mess room," Paris repeated. "It’s Schrodinger’s kitchen."

"Mr Paris, what are you talking about?"

"Well, Captain," Kim began, "have you ever noticed that the mess room’s on both decks two and six?"

"As a matter of fact, Ensign--"

"Neither did we, until today. It’s Schrodinger’s kitchen, like Tom said, and we exist on both decks until we leave, then we’re on one or the other. Only we know what’s happening, so if we leave, we’ll die."

There was another, slightly longer, pause. "Just how did you reach that… *interesting* conclusion?"

"Well, we were trying to explain Schrodinger’s theory to Neelix--"

"I see. Lieutenant, Ensign, I am *ordering* you to report to the bridge."

"But--" Paris protested.

"Or the brig, if you prefer, Mr Paris."

"But Captain, we can’t leave," Kim insisted. "We’ll die!"

"Ensign Kim, you will not die if you leave the mess room. You will, however, be in some serious trouble if you don’t. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Captain."

"Well?"

"We can’t leave."

They heard a growl of frustration. "Mr Kim--"

"Captain, if you’re so convinced nothing’s going to happen, why don’t you come down here and try it yourself?" Paris challenged.

"Very well, Lieutenant, if that’s what it takes. Janeway out."

Kim glared at Paris. "What did you do that for? Are you *trying* to get the captain killed?"

Paris looked uneasy. "I didn’t think of that… We just can’t let her leave," he decided abrubtly. "We can’t let anyone leave."

****

"You said he couldn’t be trusted, Commander; you never said he was stark raving mad," Janeway complained as she headed for the turbolift.

"It sounds like your Ensign Kim is just as bad off," Chakotay retorted.

"He’s going to be worse off when I’m done with him. You have the bridge, Commander."

****

It didn’t take Janeway long to spot the two; they were, after all, the ones pointing the phasers at the small group of crew in the centre of the mess hall. Where had they gotten phasers? Not that it mattered at this point. She tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Tuvok," she said in a low voice.

"Tuvok here."

"Collect a security detachment and report to the mess hall please, Lieutenant."

"Aye, Captain."

"Janeway out." She raised her voice slightly. "Gentlemen. What is going on here?"

Kim whirled; Paris didn’t take his eyes off the hostages. "No one can leave," Kim announced.

Janeway raised an eyebrow slightly. "Because they’ll die?"

"That’s right, Captain. Please, step away from the door."

She sighed. "No one is going to die, Mr Kim. Watch."

"I’m sorry, Captain." Kim raised his phaser. "I can’t let you do that."

Janeway met his gaze evenly. "You won’t shoot me."

"I will if I have to."

"No." Janeway shook her head. "You’re a Starfleet officer, Mr Kim. You know better than to mutiny."

Kim flinched as she snapped off the last word, but held firm.

Janeway gave her best reassuring smile and took a step backwards. "Ensign, I’m going to go out the door and--"

Paris turned around and leveled his phaser at her. "Harry, watch the others. Captain, step away from the door."

"Or what? You’d kill me to stop me dying?" But she stopped.

"Just stun you. Captain, please…" He shook his head. "Don’t make me hurt you. Come sit down with the rest of us."

Janeway didn’t move, either towards the door or the group. "Mr Paris, didn’t you wonder *how* the mess hall could be on two decks at once?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," he said cautiously.

"It’s an experimental design by Starfleet, designed to increase accessibility. I told you Voyager was state-of-the-art. Lieutenant, we’re not going to die. You’ve left the mess room safely before, haven’t you?"

"But that was before we knew! Before the cat found out it was in the box! Captain, just because Starfleet made something doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous. Starfleet makes mistakes, the same as the rest of us. Sometimes those mistakes kill people."

"Look who’s talking," someone muttered.

Paris half-turned angrily, then shot as Janeway started to open the door. The phaser beam hit her leg and she stumbled.

"I warned you," Paris said flatly. "We won’t let you leave, Captain."

"Why don’t we transport out?" Kim said suddenly. "Then we won’t be on either deck."

"It won’t work," Janeway said. "The transporters can’t get a lock inside doubled-up rooms."

"It must have something to do with being in two places at once," Kim suggested.

"But the point of the experiment was that it was one place with two entrances." Janeway smiled half-heartedly. "I don’t pretend to understand it. The whole thing shouldn’t be possible at all in my opinion. At least in theory."

"In theory, theory’s the same as practise," Paris quipped, and snorted. "We’ll be breaking warp ten next."

"The day that happens, Mr Paris, you’ll give birth to my children. In the meantime, I’ll go see if Lieutenant Carey can come up with anything for this transporter problem."

"Don’t try it, Captain," Paris snapped. "You’re not going anywhere. Now get away from that door."

Janeway turned back slowly. "Lieutenant--"

He brandished the phaser. "Move it, Captain."

She let out a breath and nodded. "Okay. Just stay calm." A thought occurred to her as she approached the group. "Where’s Neelix? If he left--"

"No!" Kim looked shocked. "We’d never let him do that, Captain. He’s preparing a ‘morale-boosting’ meal in the kitchen."

"Schrodinger’s kitchen," Paris muttered savagely, and moved to sit by the Delaneys. They rewarded him with a look of pure contempt.

The doors opened and Tuvok stepped through, phaser drawn. The background shimmered and a security team followed suit, presumably from the other deck.

Paris slowly stood and was about to join Kim and Janeway when Tuvok said, "Please remain where you are, Lieutenant. Captain?"

She nodded as several security officers panned out and approached them. "Alright people; lunch-time’s over. I think--"

"Captain!" Kim grabbed her arm. "You can’t leave! You’ll die!"

"Ensign Kim," Janeway said with all the authority she could muster, "get your hand off my arm."

He snatched his hand away, cheeks burning, then realised his mistake as she continued towards the door. Before he could bring his phaser up, Baxter and Durst took hold of him.

"Captain, don’t!" Paris struggled against Jarvis and Parsons. "Captain!"

She ignored him and walked out the door. Kim stared after her for a moment then his eyes rolled up and he slowly sank to the floor. Paris just stared.

"She’s dead," he whispered to himself. "It’s all my fault…"

"Janeway to Paris."

He looked as if he’d just seen a ghost; understandably. "Captain? You’re not dead?"

"Very much alive, Mr Paris. Perhaps you’d care for report to duty now?"

Paris vaguely noticed someone taking his phaser. "Uh… Yeah…"

"Good. On second thoughts, you and Ensign Kim can report to Sickbay. Janeway out."

Paris stumbled as Jarvis gave him a gentle push. The captain was alive. She wasn’t dead. But she’d walked out the door. She was supposed to be dead… "She’s supposed to be dead," he muttered. "She is dead. She just doesn’t know it yet. I’ll make sure she knows it. She’s dead."