Prologue

Roma Antiqua

Italia

Earth

The cacophonous thunder of ancient church bells announced the evening as Christine arrived at the Ponte Sant'Angelo. The seven-year-old girl loved the old bridge, lined with crumbling marble angels that connected her home in the Borgo district with her father's archeological dig site in Vaticano. She stopped at the Angel with the Crown of Thorns, her mother's favorite and the meeting point she'd established with her father.

She set down the woven basket holding the pasta and bread her mother had prepared. Christine hoisted herself up on to the cool travertine railing and watched the gentle flow of the Tiber as it journeyed through the largely uninhabited city of Roma Antica. Gathering up a handful of the lustrous marble chips, she tossed one into the murky water below. She watched as the rippling waves radiated out in response to the incursion of the pebbles, the perfect concentric circles gradually altered by the gentle flow of the cool river water.

"It's called the Butterfly Effect."

Christine turned to find Doctor Roger, her father's assistant, standing behind her. She liked her father's young intern, and had listened with rapt attention to his stories of starships and the exotic alien worlds and technologies he'd seen.

"Butterflies, Doctor Roger?"

Korby smiled warmly as he took one of the pebbles and tossed it into the river. "The Butterfly Effect is a tenet of Chaos Theory, Christine. The theory posits that even small, seemingly unnoticeable changes in the initial conditions of a system can have a major, unforeseeable impact on later outcomes of said system."

Christines studied the pattern created as the new set of waves interfaced with the previous waves. "Uncontrollable variables bring unforeseen consequences."

"Correct." Korby laughed again and shook his head as he offered her a hand down from the marble railing. "You are indeed your father's daughter, Christine Chapel."

"Do you think there really are other universes, Doctor Roger? Would we still exist in those other universes as well?"

"There are some who believe that each decision made, each action taken, creates a new set of circumstances, and in effect a new universe. However, it is merely a theory. It has yet to be proven. There is much in the universe that we still need to explore…perhaps someday we will know the answer to that question. But for now the burning question is 'what's for dinner'?"

Christine waved away the proffered hand and jumped down from the railing. She retrieved the basket and handed it to him.

"It's Thursday night, Doctor Roger. It's gnocchi."

"Of course, Thursday is always gnocchi night-in this and in every possible universe that is a constant. Be careful going home, bella."

Christine watched the man's form grow smaller as he walked away into the twilight, until finally he turned a corner and vanished behind the twisted ruins of Castel Sant'Angelo. The sun had almost disappeared into the Tiber and the first faint stars of evening made themselves visible in the eastern sky. Christine picked up one last piece of the aged marble, tracing the tiny green veins with her finger then hurled it toward the canopy of twinkling stars. She heard the dull plunk as it dropped into the shallow river below. Resisting the urge to remain and watch the ripples move across the murky water, she retraced her steps back across the bridge and headed for home.

…..

Keldeen

LLangdon Hills

Vulcan

"And what of me, Spokah? I am your bond mate. What am I supposed to do?" The petite Vulcan woman rose from the carved stone bench and walked along the path though the perfectly manicured garden.

Spock struggled to repress the all too human sigh welling up within him as he rose and followed her, steeling himself against the icy bitterness of her distain flooding through their bond link.

"T'Pring," he called after her with an uncharacteristic forcefulness. "Attend."

She turned back toward him, appearing momentarily startled by his use of the traditional summons. Her perfect Vulcan features, so fragile and regally beautiful, still took Spock's breath away, despite the frigid unreadable mask he'd come to know over the past ten turnings. It was only the flash of her eyes boring into him that betrayed the anger behind that imperious facade.

"No Vulcan has every turned down an appointment to the Science Academy, Spock. It is not logical. You have defied your own father- defied T'Pau herself. Now you would tell me you leave Vulcan to join Starfleet, to live among- qomi. You bring scandal and shame to your clan, Spock, and to mine by association. It is not to be borne."

"Kroykah. What is not to be 'borne,' T'Pring, is your bigotry. Your words bring 'scandal and shame' to the principles of IDIC, to the very Tenets of Surak. This is what cannot be borne, be assured I will not tolerate it."

He became aware that he was holding her arm quite tightly. A brief flash of smug recrimination at his lack of control pulsed through the bond and he relaxed his grasp, releasing her, and then allowed himself a deep centering breath.

T'Pring bowed her head assuming the pose of the submissively obedient Vulcan bond mate. Physically she was no match for a Vulcan male were he to be roused to anger, even one who bore the disadvantage of human genes.

"I beg thy forgiveness, S'ai," she whispered keeping her eyes fixed on the carnelian colored sand that formed the garden pathway. "Tell me how am I to serve you, husband?"

"You will continue here as before, complete your studies. When the time"- he swallowed anxiously- "at the proper time, I will return."

"Not before?" She raised her eyes to meet his.

"No," he said.

"I accept thy decision, husband. I shall await thee until we meet at the appointed place," she said, slipping into High Vulcan as she recited the ritual phrase.

"The way of logic makes all things clear, my wife." He nodded tightly as he spoke the traditional response.

"Live long and prosper, Spokah."

"Peace and long life, T'Pring."