EMH log entry: People know who I am. This was first brought to my attention on my first day here. The librarian who came to familiarize me with reservations procedure looked up from her paperwork at the first sound of my voice. Her face was bright red, and her heartbeat and BP distinctly increased. She did an admirable job of maintaining her composure; I'll give her that. Of course, you can't fool a doctor. At first, I did not understand how this was possible. Then, further research on the Worldwide Web revealed that Voyager's very plight was common knowledge. Starfleet and the Federation are the subject of several fictional dramatizations under the media hierarchy "Star Trek." So, not only are we out of time, our ship and our crew are circling around some alternate version of Terra. Great. As though it weren't difficult enough trying to return to the twenty-fourth century, we'll have to be certain to reach the correct twenty-fourth century. I look back on the Captain's image from the previous page. I spent the better part of six hours before some crude graphics program, altering her uniform in an effort to observe the Prime Directive. All for nothing. It is fate's subtle way of hinting that I should stick to medicine. These fans (it is not clear whether the term "Trekkies" is the accepted term, or considered derogatory) know more than I do about Voyager, its crew, the Federation, and all documented species. For all I know, this vision of theirs will inspire the formation of the Federation here in another century. Who can say where their legacy will lead the societies of this world? The computers here are sluggish from what I am used to in sickbay, but I will continue to peer into this veritable pantry of popular culture, and see what's in store... Doctor signing off for now.