Lieutenant. Not even so much as a mild
guffaw. It may have been a while since I
laughed, Mr. Dexter, but I do distinctly
recall what it sounded like."
"You weren't laughing per se, sir, but you most
definitely were making light of the situation."
Riker leaned forward, his fingers interlaced.
"If I don't speed up the processing,
Dexter ... what are they going to do to me?
Transfer me? To someplace worse than this?
We both know there is no place worse than
this."
Dexter shuddered slightly.
"You know I'm right," Riker said mirthlessly.
"And you know what else?" He leaned back in the
chair, putting his hands behind his head. "I wouldn't
have it any other way. I'm right where I want
to be, Dexter. Right where I want to be."
They stared at each other for a few moments.
"Anything else?" Riker said.
Dexter cleared his throat again and then said,
"There was a communiqu@e for you of a somewhat
personal nature."
At that, Riker frowned. "What was it?"
"Well, sir, I never go prying--"
"Of course you do," said Riker, his voice
cracking with impatience. "Don't shadow-dance with
me, Dexter. I know damned well you have your
finger in every pie that comes through this armpit of the
galaxy. Now what's happening?"
"Well, sir ... the communiqu@e was from
Betazed."
Riker was silent for a long moment. "Betazed?"
"Yes, sir."
Riker drummed for a few seconds on the
armrest of his chair. When he spoke, he was
looking away from Dexter. "It's from her, isn't
it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is she all right?"
Dexter's lips thinned even more, which one would have
thought was impossible. He took a breath and said,
"No, sir. She's dying, sir."
Riker said nothing at first. Then, finally:
"And?"
"She's calling for you."
"Is she? Yes ... she would, wouldn't she."
He considered it a moment. "There's no way I
can get there in time."
"Betazed officials have already spoken with
Starfleet command. She is quite influential, you
know."
"Yes, I know. Believe me, I know. And
what did Starfleet say?"
"The starship Hood is in this sector. They
had not originally planned to put in here, but we are
not significantly out of their way. And Betazed
is situated only a few parsecs from
Hood's destination."
"How very convenient." Riker frowned for a moment.
"Hood is Crusher's ship, isn't it?"
"Captain Crusher, yes, sir."
"Um-hmm. Old ghosts, Dexter."
"Pardon?"
"Old ghosts. They're coming back to haunt
me." Now Riker shifted his drumming to the
desktop. "Old ghosts want to see me. Old
ghosts are going to transport me." He paused.
"I don't suppose I have the option of not seeing
her."
"Of course you have that option, sir," replied
Dexter stiffly. "This is merely a request, not
an order."
"A request." Once more Riker ran his
fingers through his gray hair. "How much time until
Hood gets here?"
"ETA is fourteen thirty hours, sir."
"All right. Radio Betazed that I'll be there
as fast as I can. Tell Hood that
I'll be ready for them when they get here." Riker
rose to his feet and fixed Dexter with a stare.
"Anything else?"
"No, sir. It's just that ..."
Riker could barely contain his impatience.
"What? ... What?"
"I just want to say that I think it's good of you
that you're going, sir. You've, um ..." He
harrumphed and continued, "You've spoken of her in
the past. It's clear that this will be very difficult for
you."
"I've done more difficult things than this,
Lieutenant," said Riker stiffly. Then he
hesitated and added softly, "But not much more."
He came around his desk and headed for the door.
And then Dexter said, "Why do you think she wants
to see you, sir?"
Riker paused in the doorway. The door had
already slid open, waiting for him. But when he
didn't pass through, it slid softly shut again.
"Why do you think?"
Dexter, after brief consideration, said, "Perhaps,
sir, she wants to make amends with you."
"Amends?" Riker said the ^w with amazement, as
if it were the first time he'd ever heard it.
"Amends? Lieutenant ... you don't know her
very well."
"It's possible, sir," Dexter persisted.
"When people are dying, they tend to see things in a
different light."
"You have a lot of personal experience with death,
Lieutenant?"
Dexter ignored the verbal jab. "It's
possible that she wants to settle loose ends, as
it were. Close accounts. It's possible, sir
... that she wants to forgive you."
Slowly Riker shook his head. "Why should she,
Lieutenant ... when I haven't forgiven
myself?"
And Riker walked out of his office, leaving
Dexter alone with the steady heartbeat ticking of the
grandfather clock.
CHAPTER 3
The structures in which the scientists of the Forever
World lived were, at best, functional. But then,
these people did not seem to Data the type to care
overmch about physical needs. If what they had
served their basic requirements, then they
seemed content.
Data looked around the table that served as the
communal eating place for the scientists. In every
locale on the Enterprise that was designed for
group consumption of food, Data had always been
struck by the steady stream of chatter that had
accompanied the act. Indeed, eating a meal
seemed as much a social occasion as anything
else. Such socializing did not appear to augment
the replenishing of the body's stores of nutrition.
It was, however, customary. Or so Data had
been led to believe.
It was not the case here however. The six
scientists who were grouped around the table ate
quietly. Talk was at a minimum, and anything
said was merely along the lines of some functional
request such as "Pass the salt."
Seated next to Data was science officer
Blair. Blair was tough to miss in any
situation--a head taller than Data, and covered
from head to toe with thick, brown fur. His jaw
jutted out and his eyes were so small that they were almost
impossible to spot. His Starfleet uniform was
specially tailored to accommodate his height and
bulk. The others at the table had to crowd a bit
closer to each other in order to provide room for
Blair.
Thus far there had only been one entr@ee
into conversation. Data had glanced around and said,
"My records indicated there were seven of you."
Mary Mac pursed her lips and then sighed.
"There were. Recent defection--Mar Loc.
He took off the other day--haven't seen him
since. You'll have to update your records. To be
honest ... we lose people all the time."
"Why?"
"It's not easy to take this place,
Commodore," said Harry as he put food out on
the table. Around the table, heads bobbed up and down
in agreement. "You have the constant wind. You have the
solitude. Andwiththe Guardian out there ..." He
paused, trying to find the ^ws. "You feel ... you
feel like you're staring into a mirror from hell. And
it's only so long before you see something staring back
out at you. Some reflection that you don't
necessarily like. At which point ... it's time
to get out. Or you can lose your mind."
"We've had that happen from time to time as well,"
said Mary Mac darkly. Again there were nods.
The scientists volunteered no further
conversation, and once the food was put out, from then on
the only sounds that could be heard were the clinking of
eating utensils on plates, soft noises of
mastication, andof course, the wind ... the
ever-present, ever-haunting wind.
"Is it always this quiet?" Blair finally
asked.
The sound of his hushed question was almost deafening in the
relative stillness. The scientists stopped and
looked at each other with an air of polite
puzzlement.
Mary Mac, who was seated next to Blair,
leaned forward on one arm. "It's not just quiet.
We're working."
Blair looked at Data. "Working on
what?" asked the commodore.
"Our thoughts," said Harry. "Our observations.
Every night we record our conclusions in our
logs, and every morning we group together and discuss
them."
"As part of the Federation's annual evaluation of
your work," said Data politely, "I'd be very
interested in reading them. If, that is, you wouldn't
consider that an intrusion."
The scientists looked at each other and there
seemed to be an unspoken, uniform shrug. "No
problem with that, Commodore," said Mary Mac.
"What sort of observations do you make?"
Blair asked.
Mary Mac glanced around the table. Clearly,
both through Federation designation and natural
ability, she was the spokesperson for the group.
"We make observations on society. On
history. Most of us here are social
scientists, Commodore ... Lieutenant," she
added, with a polite nod to Blair. "We make
studies of the histories of different societies
and from that draw conclusions about not only that
society's past, but the circumstances that brought
them to their present and, most likely, are aiming
them toward their future."
Harry now spoke up. "Just an example.
Two planets, Gamma Delta and Gamma
Origii, had been at war off and on for
hundreds of years. Even though they, as a
society, had evolved in their perceptions and
attitudes, there was still a centuries-old
tradition of hatred between the two. Our studies
here at the Forever World uncovered the real origins,
long forgotten, of the anger between the two
worlds."
"That being?" prompted Blair.
Harry endeavored to keep a straight face as
he said, "A do'clat belonging to the emperor of
Gamma Delta consumed a markill that was much
beloved by the empress of Gamma Origii."
Blair looked in confusion from Harry to Data.
Data, with just the faintest hint of a smile, said,
"A do'clat is a large, caninelike
animal, known to be quite fierce and to reach lengths of
three meters. A markill is small, somewhat
feline, and usually very docile."
Understanding spread across Blair's face. "You
mean the guy's dog ate her pet cat?"
"That is essentially correct."
"And that led to centuries of hostilities?"
"The incident led to bad feelings," corrected
Mary Mac, sounding a bit pedantic. "The bad
feelings led to the hostilities. By the time the
modern era was reached, the reasons for the
hostilities had long been forgotten; only the
anger remained."
"How did the two planets react when they
learned of the root cause for their antagonism?"
asked Data.
Mary Mac could not hide her amusement. "The
heads of the two worlds met andwith great pomp and
circumstance signed into law new, strict
regulations about leashing do'clats. A newborn
markill was then presented to the present leader of
Gamma Origii. Frankly, they were all a
bit embarrassed about it and were happy for the
opportunity to put it all behind them."
"Well, that's excellent," said Blair.
"That's just excellent."
Then he paused, and Mary Mac picked up
on the fact that something else was on his mind.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" she asked.
"I was just wondering ... are you ever tempted?
To go back, I mean?"
"No," said Mary Mac with such speed and
firmness that it was a bit startling.
"What, never?"
"No. Nor are any of us." She looked at
nodded.
"Why wouldn't you want to?"
"Because that is not a responsibility that we would
want. It's ... it's too much. You'd have to be
... I don't know ... bigger than
life to take on that challenge. I'll pass,
thanks."
"If you shun the responsibility, why does
anyone have access to the Guardian at all?"
asked Data.
"We need access when we want to talk to it,"
said Mary Mac. "For some reason it won't
address us if we speak from outside the force
field. The Guardian doesn't acknowledge us
unless there're no barriers between us. When we do
converse with it directly, we do so with the utmost
caution." She put down her eating utensil.
"Your conversation was fairly interesting, Commodore.
What did you make of it?"
"It would seem to confirm, on the face of it, that
which we had always known. That time is fluid. Alth"
--he paused only a moment, considering the
possibilities--?there is another interpretation.
And that is that all times coexist."
"You mean parallel universes," said Mary
Mac. It was clear from the speed with which she picked
up on what he was saying that it was something she'd
already given thought.
"It's something that has been considered," said
Data. "That parallel universes are, in
fact, alternative time tracks. There was a
fascinating paper done recently, expanding upon a
notion expressed in, of all things, a newly
recovered twentieth-century piece of ficti
on."
"The Niven Doctrine," Blair said. "I
was in the audience when it was presented. Shook up
quite a few people."
"Alternative time lines," said Mary Mac,
no.ing. "The scene you were watching, Commodore--the
experiences of Captain Kirk--certainly is
one of the better-known instances."
"There have been others documented," said Data.
"There was Captain Kirk's experience with an
alternative time line that resulted in a
parallel universe with an aggressive, warlike
Federation. There was another situation that I myself was
involved with, the full details of which I didn't
learn until some years after the fact."
"You, Commodore?" asked Mary Mac.
"What was it?"
"It involved a ... memorable young woman.
Her name was Natasha Yar, although she was more
popularly known as Tasha." Data's face, as
always, was the picture of composure. But Blair,
from his long experience with his commanding officer,
could tell that the memory being pulled up was something
of great meaning to the android. "It was a ...
unique situation. One of the few instances where an
individual or individuals actually crossed
over from one parallel universe to another--one being
where Captain Kirk and several crewmen, as
mentioned earlier, crossed into a parallel
universesttime-line with a militaristic Federation.
Tasha's experience was another. Unfortunately
it ... did not work out quite as positively as
Captain Kirk's did."
Data lapsed into silence and Mary Mac
understood immediately that he had said everything he felt
needed to be said on the subject. But Data
picked up on her expression.
"If you wish to question me further on the
incident," Data said quietly, "you may feel
free to do so. I won't feel imposed upon."
"Maybe not, but I'll feel like I'm
imposing anyway. So I guess I won't."
Then Mary Mac paused. "Actually,
Commodore ... I have something of interest to show you.
Something along the lines of our discussion. A very
intriguing turn of events that our monitoring of the
Guardian's playbacks has revealed. And I
think"--her green lips drew back into a broad
smile--?I think you will find it very interesting."
CHAPTER 4
Riker sat in his guest quarters on the starship
Hood, watching the stars hurtling by. It had
been so long since he was in any sort of real
motion that the view outside the port looked ...
wrong somehow. As insane as it sounded, he