What am I reading?
Oh, it's "The Sound of Thunder." Hardly my favourite piece of writing, but it poses an interesting hypothesis, and it does it in a far more eloquent manner than most of the pieces that follow it. Ray Bradbury's little masterpiece explores not only the far-reaching effects a small change in the past can have on the future, but also how subtle those effects are.
Not long after this piece was published science fiction blossomed, exploring implications of chaos theory on time travel over and over again. Ironically, the idea probably received the most media attention in Khan's time.
And here I sit, about to secure passage into Romulan territory to retrieve the man who defeated him.
Here I sit, looking at data pertaining to the one man known to have traveled back in time or rather, to his doppelganger in this timeline. And damn it, Beverly, I cant help but think about that other world. What are we like there? Am I still the captain of the Enterprise? Are you still its chief medical officer? Do we, the persons who sit here, still exist in that other timeline?
What if someone one of our ancestors planned to marry died at Starfleet? What if one of my ancestors on my mother's side was to be with someone who worked at the archive in London?
I've traced my family history, you know: The English branch of my family lived only a short commute from that very building. On my fathers side, one of my ancestors had a very dear friend who died in the collision of the Vengeance. What if love had blossomed between them in a timeline where there was no Vengeance to crash?
I wonder how much Spock Prime shared with his other self. Did the name Picard mean something to Spock Prime, and thus to his counterpart? Will he look at me with contempt because some other captain or admiral by that name showed incompetence in front of the man who shares his?
They're such foolish worries, but they bear speaking. Now that Ive said them, I can move past them. If Spock truly is a Vulcan of logic, then he will understand chaos theory far better than I do. He will understand that one Augment flapping his figurative wings a few hundred years ago could have far more dramatic effects on the name Picard than a hurricane across the world.
No, I must turn my matters to more practical concerns. Concerns such as convincing K'ehleyr to approve our little gambit. Concerns such as figuring out how Data will fit in among Romulans. Concerns such as what the straightening agents will do to my hair.
My god, Beverly, when I come back Im going to look like a brunette Tasha Yar. I daresay one pixie bob is enough for any ship. I can almost hear Dean now: "I sense great pain from everyone looking at your hair."
