Graduation

by Merlin Missy

Wesley must face his final test to become a Traveler, but what will it cost him?

2. Default Chapter

Disclaiming we will go. Disclaiming we will go. Heigh-ho the dairy-o, disclaiming we will go.
Paramount takes the Trek. Paramount takes the Trek. Heigh-ho the dairy-o, don't sue me for
this dreck.

VVVVV
Chapter 6: Artful Dodgers and Paper Flowers

Morning came, and everyone went back to work. Wesley's focus had changed.
He had to think of some way to get Tasha and the other Humans out of the
camp without changing the past as he knew it. As he carried blocks back to the
compound, he made and abandoned half a dozen plans. Some would need to
wait until after Tasha's baby was born, which might be too late. Others
involved changing the flow of the timestream far too much. He even toyed with
the idea of ridding the Federation of a certain Romulan Commander before she
could help start the Klingon Civil War, among other things. Now there
would be an interesting future.

At lunch, he made sure to sit at a table where he could make eye contact with
Tasha several times during the course of the meal. She glanced back at him
twice, but affected to ignore him the rest of the time. It was probably safer that
way.

The rest of the day passed quickly. After dinner, everyone gathered in the
courtyard. Tokath stepped upon the dais, while Wesley inched towards the
front to stand near Tasha.

"My friends, I have some news to relate. It seems that there are those in the
Senate who do not appreciate our efforts here. They will be sending a
representative to see our progress. If she is satisfied, our colony will be allowed
to remain here
permanently." There were a few cheers. "However, if she does not like what
we have created, if she thinks the needs of the Romulan people will be better
satisfied by a prison camp, then the colony will be abandoned, and all of you
will return to Romulus." He paused, then, in a softer voice: "If that happens, I
will no longer be able to protect you."

He glanced at Tasha, who stood drawn in tight against herself beside him. He
raised his voice again. "Therefore, we will have this colony in perfect running
order by the time of the Senator's visit. We have three weeks to finish the
compound." He held up a diagram, filled with intimidating marks and figures.

"The final structure is almost complete now; L'Kor assures me that if we
eliminate the free half-day, and if everyone puts in two hours more each day,
then we can have everything in order by the time the Senator arrives." Voices
began murmuring; this was not going over particularly well.

"Also, there has been a suggestion to hold a small celebration when the Senator
arrives. Anyone who is interested should contact Kriana, who has graciously
volunteered to be in charge. I happen to think it is a good idea. If the Senator
sees how hard we have worked, and sees how happy we are, then she will surely
allow us to continue our work here." This elicited a few more cheers than
before, and he stepped down.

Imno, his face dark, turned to Kriana. "Have you lost your Romulan mind?"
He shrugged off a steadying hand from K'Toktehn. "We have to work longer
days with no rest to finish our own prison, and then you want us to make a
carnival so that some Rom bitch thinks that we're happy little convicts? I don't
think so." He was becoming loud; if he gathered enough steam, he could incite
a small riot.

Wes stepped between them. "We all have to work the extra hours, Dodge, not
just you. We'll manage."

"You'll manage, Romulan. I've had enough." He jumped onto the dais to
address the assembly in general and the General in particular: "Why did you
bring us here? Why didn't you let us die with our ship? We're sick of this
place, sick of living at your leisure."

"Are you sick of living?" came a voice from the crowd. It might have been
Qu'aemon's, but Wes couldn't be sure. Imno didn't hear it anyway.

"And you." He faced Tasha. "Why didn't you stay back on your _Enterprise_
in your time where you belonged? If you weren't with us, he would have
killed us long ago." His voice broke. "We could have died with some dignity.
We don't belong here. We want to go home." The rumblings started earlier had
increased to a disturbing volume, and most of them sounded Klingon. The
Humans weren't the only strangers in this strange land. Of course, at least some
of the Humans were far stranger than any of the others could have dreamed.

Imno turned to face Tokath directly. "You have no concept of what I can do. If
I chose to, I could ... "

He never finished.

One of the guards drew his disruptor and fired. Before anyone could react,
Imno was converted to pure energy, and was gone on a breath of wind.

For a few echoing moments, everything went motionless. Wes had the oddest
feeling that time had stopped, a situation with which he was well-accustomed.
Then someone gasped, and someone else screamed, and a roar went up from the
mob.

Tokath spun on the guard.

"How dare you!" he bellowed. "Explain!"

The guard, who had obviously expected something more along the lines of
"Good job, soldier," was at a loss. He sputtered, "General, he was inciting a
riot. The prisoners might have revolted. I thought he was dangerous."

"You 'thought?'" Tokath sneered. "You didn't think. You acted without
considering the consequences." He gestured towards the crowd, which by this
time had begun to focus on the guard menacingly.

"But General!"

"If we were aboard my ship, I would kill you where you stand. You will leave
on the next transport. Give me your weapon." He held out his hand. Defeated,
the guard handed it over. Two of the other guards seized him.

Tokath placed the disruptor on the dais for all to see, then spoke in a quiet tone
that demanded attention.

"I am deeply sorry for this unfortunate incident." He took in a ragged breath. "I
do not condone the guard's actions. He will be dealt with appropriately, I assure
you. I do not take the death of anyone lightly. That is why all of you are still
alive. Please do not take the actions of a foolish man to be the attitude of the
rest of us." He drew his own disruptor and obliterated the murder weapon. "No
more blood." He stepped down again, and took Tasha's arm. She stared at him
without recognition, then at the dais.

"Please say that we'll tear down that wretched thing," she whispered.

"After the Senator goes away. I promise you." He led her away, but she looked
back to Wesley for the briefest moment. Then they were gone.

Arrhat climbed up on the dais, and stared down at where Imno had been
standing minutes before. Ekan joined her, took her hand as she whispered: "It
seems the Artful Dodger found an ending to his story after all." When she
started to cry, Ekan held her, and wept a little, too.

VVVVV

Castillo changed room assignments that night, choosing to crowd into a room
of mostly Human prisoners. It was just as well; living quarters would change as
soon as the compound was complete. He left with barely a word.

K'Toktehn was more distant than ever, while even Qu'aemon was in a less than
sociable mood. When Arrhat tried to take his hand, Wes noticed that he pulled
away sharply. Twice. Obviously, he was trying to keep in his Klingon persona,
which Arrhat had to have known, but she still looked genuinely hurt. On an
impulse, Wes hugged her as she and Kriana left. She didn't even smile.

After Castillo and the women were gone, the room seemed very cold and
empty. None of the men wanted to look towards the empty bunk just yet. They
readied for sleep in silence, and Wes soon lay in his bunk staring at the ceiling.

Tokath had managed the situation well. He had dealt with the guard quickly,
before the mob could react. Assuming he could keep them at bay until the
transport arrived, tempers could return to their more typical level of only
slightly above normal. Normally, they were the temperature of an average city
sidewalk on Vulcan in midsummer. Wes had taken note how Tokath had
studiously avoided the use of the word murder. Also, that bit about the one
foolish man speaking for the group had not only been about the guard. Just
because Imno had been outspoken, the rest of them would not be held
responsible. However, if the others should begin to take his example, they
too would be dealt with. Quickly.

VVVVV

Night passed, and morning followed. The day brought a distinct cooling to
relations among the prisoner-colonists. Several times during the day, Wesley
walked by a group of conversing Humans, only to notice the sudden silence as
he passed. The Klingons never spoke much during work in the best of
circumstances, so their silence was not quite as obvious. Nevertheless, the
atmosphere of the entire work detail was as solemn as a funeral party, which
indeed it was.

Despite the quiet, or maybe because of it, the work in the quarry proceeded
quickly. That day, and into the next week, the final construction of the
compound went faster than anyone had thought possible.

Three days before the scheduled arrival of the Senator, the compound was
complete. Completely ringed with a sandstone wall, filled with quarters for all
the colonists, the structure was breathtaking. The barbed wire was gone, and
the wooden planks had been converted into firewood for the central fireplace.
Nothing remained of the original structure but the wooden dais in the center of
the courtyard, which would stay until after the Senator's visit. On the same
note, though, no one was sure if the colonists would still be there after the
Senator's visit. Tokath maintained a positive attitude, even going to the quarries
with the others to help carve the final stones. It was a gesture, of course, but a
good one in terms of public relations.

When the last stone, a block at the top of the perimeter wall, was set, everyone
was present. Ekan spread the mortar, then Trehan and K'Toktehn set it in place.
A sigh spread through the crowd like a cool breeze, and for a brief moment,
they stopped being Klingons and Humans and Romulans, and became people.
There was a general back-slapping and hand- shaking that lasted several
minutes.

Wesley found himself beside Tasha, and quickly hugged her. There seemed to
be more of her than there had been a week and a half before.

He breathed into her ear. "How long?"

"We might have a month left. Maybe less."

"You'll have to tell Castillo the whole story. He doesn't trust me anymore."

"All right. Move away now."

He casually pulled away and slapped the nearest Klingon companionably on the
back. The large bulk turned around. It was K'Toktehn.

"What?" he snarled. Wes jumped back.

"Just congratulating you is all." He suddenly realized that the brief spell of
good-naturedness had passed, and people were again moving into their own
cliques. A look at the Klingon's face made his stomach shrink into a tight knot.
Imno had been his friend, the only real friend he had. Not even Qu'aemon had
made him laugh. Imno was dead, a Romulan had killed him, and the Klingon
had not yet allowed himself to grieve.

Wesley suddenly felt that he was in big trouble.

K'Toktehn moved towards him, and he backstepped quickly, almost running
into Tasha. The expression on her face was clear: If Tokath sees us together,
we both die. Deal with it.

"Listen, K'Toktehn, let's pretend we're friends, okay?"

"What would a Romulan know of friendship with a Klingon," he demanded,
"when Romulans go killing with impunity?" It was the longest sentence Wesley
had ever heard the Klingon utter. That fact did not have much time to register,
as it was followed by a very heavy-looking fist.

Wes ducked to one side, catching the blow on his shoulder. He staggered
slightly, tried to form some plan of attack, or at least escape. He wasn't nearly
strong enough to fight a Klingon male in his prime; as a means of suicide, a
poisoned dagger would be less messy, and certainly less painful.

The fist lashed out again, and again he avoided it. This wasn't going to work for
long.

K'Toktehn drew back again, and having no time for a better idea, Wes caught
the fist, pulled it through and over his shoulder. In moments, K'Toktehn was
staring in some wonder at the clouds.

As he tried to rise, several guards surrounded them both, weapons ready.
Tokath stepped in.

"What is going on here?"

K'Toktehn spat. "Typical Romulan." He looked to Wes disdainfully. "You
have no honor, bringing them into this."

If there was one thing Wes could do, it was think on his feet. "Sorry, sir. My
friend here had mentioned a Klingon martial art form, 'muck barrow' or
something. I asked him to demonstrate, and I guess things just got out of hand."

Tokath looked at him as though he had sprouted another limb. He glanced at
Tasha for confirmation of the story.

"I certainly learned a lot," was all she would say.

Tokath drew a deep sigh from somewhere within. "There will be no more
'demonstrations.' Is that understood?"

K'Toktehn, who had pulled himself to a sitting position, nodded solemnly. Wes
added, "Yes, General."

"Good. We cannot allow fighting among us, especially with the Senator's
arrival coming so soon. Too much depends on it." He motioned the guards
away. "Come, my dear." He offered an arm for Tasha.

"I think I'll walk around a while. The sunlight and fresh air will do me good."
She offered him a smile, but it was a plastic mask, thin and quickly removed
after he left.

Wes held out a hand for K'Toktehn, but he ignored it and rose on his own. "We
will have another 'demonstration' later, Romulan." He did not smile as he
moved away.

"For someone trying to stay out of sight, you certainly seem to draw attention to
yourself." Tasha shook her head. "How's the shoulder?"

"Don't ask." The dull throb had the all too familiar tingle of a pain that would
linger. He couldn't even ask Josolar for a pain reliever; Romulan drugs could
kill a Traveler as easily as a Human.

"Duck better next time." She stood back, appraising him for a moment.

"What?"

"Nothing." She paused. "It's just that the Wesley I knew would never have
even dreamed of fighting a Klingon, and certainly couldn't have beaten one.
Hell, I don't know that I could have done it, even when I was training every
day. I get the feeling you won't be having problems from any of the others."

She was right; no Human in his or her right (or left) mind would fight a
Klingon, and the list of winners in such confrontations could probably be
counted on the fingers of one thumb. Something was amiss, but he was damned
if he could figure out what it was.

"I'll tell him tonight," she said, and wandered off in a carefully casual manner.
He didn't watch her leave.

"Dalek!" He heard a shout off to his left. "Dalek!" He wondered why Dalek
hadn't answered. People should answer when people called their names.
Names. His name was supposed to be Dalek.

"Yes?" he responded, trying not to look like an idiot.

Trehan caught up with him, for once with none of the others in tow. "Did I see
what I think I just saw?"

"It depends. What did you see that you think that you saw that you might not
have seen?" He grinned; three months ago, a sentence like that would have
been beyond his linguistic skills. Then again, from the expression on Trehan's
face, it might still be beyond him. Wes had the sudden feeling he had just asked
him something about avocados.

"Maybe he managed to get you after all. What in space made you pick a fight
with K'Toktehn??! Hasn't anybody ever explained the hazards to your health?"

"You sound like Josolar. You two spend far too much time together." It was a
weak attempt to change the topic.

"Dalek. You can't just think with your fists. You have to think things through.
Now K'Toktehn's never gonna come around." He muttered something about
fools and their heads being soon parted. Still, there was something in his glance
akin to respect now. Not much, for Trehan had his own ideas of what
warranted admiration, but some.

That evening, Wes noticed people staring at him, and whispering. Klingons and
Romulans alike who had pushed by him without much thought now stood at a
distance and watched him go by. He had become either a hero or a target. So
much for remaining the unassuming minstrel.

VVVVV

With the final construction of the compound finished, the barracks became
unnecessary. There were quarters available now, if one chose to double or
triple up. For the time being, Wes had a room with Trehan and Josolar, with
Ekan, Qu'aemon and K'Toktehn next door. Kriana and Arrhat had managed to
get a room on the other side with just the two of them, although there would be
three soon enough.

The loss of the large room also brought the loss of something else. Even with
the new free time, officially spent in planning the final details of the Senator's
visit, the whole group was rarely together. More and more, Trehan and/or
Josolar would be with Kriana, while Arrhat spent time with her husbands. Wes
wondered how long it would be until they requested family quarters. Maybe
they would just kick K'Toktehn out. That was sure to put him in a good mood.

His friends otherwise occupied, Wesley turned his thoughts to escape. Imno's
death left sixteen people to go Travelling with him. It would have to be
quickly, before anyone noticed that the Human population was dwindling at
warp speed. The carnival gave him an idea for a back-up plan, at least.

Late one night, Wes lay half-asleep when he heard a tapping at the door.
Blearily, he crawled out of bed and answered it; the soft snoring from the others'
beds did not change from their rhythm in the slightest.

"Yes?" he whispered, trying not to waken them.

"Dalek?" came the whisper from the other side.

"Yeah?"

"It's Castillo. Can you come out?" His pulse jumped. Tasha had gotten the
message through. He slipped outside.

Castillo stood shivering in the cool moonlight. He looked nothing of the
man who had led his ship in a hopeless defense for a lost Klingon outpost. The
night-wind robbed his heroism, left him kin to the timid animal who was his
ancestor, who had huddled near a fire against the terrors in the darkness when
time was what passed between dusk and day. The same blood that coursed
through Castillo's veins passed through Wesley's, and through every other
Human from that crisp night onwards. The shared aloneness drew them all
together. There was no way that Wes could leave him here.

"Can you come back to our quarters? There's something we need to discuss."
He nodded, and Castillo led him along the passage to his own quarters.

When his eyes adjusted to the light, Wes saw something amazing: a room filled
with Humans. It had been so long that the entire time he was there, he kept
looking for pointed ears and bumpy foreheads. There were fifteen of them,
including Castillo, and not an alien among them. If Tokath ever caught wind of
this meeting ... Then he saw the fear in their eyes. He was the Romulan, the
alien. He was the enemy.

"You all know Dalek, I believe." A few nods, the fear remained.

"It's okay," he said, trying to reassure himself as much as anyone. "I'm a friend.
My name is Wesley Crusher." There was little response. Obviously his
alternate self had not made an impression on them. Or had never met them.

A woman near the back asked: "As in Doctor Crusher?" He nodded, and she
explained to the others. "She was the doctor aboard the _Enterprise-D_." More
recognition now. At least they knew of his mother. Perhaps Tasha had told
them about the _E-D_.

He decided the direct approach would be the best. He stepped apart from
Castillo, took a deep breath, and Changed back to his normal form. Several of
the Humans gasped, and one crossed himself.

"I've come from the future to rescue you." There. It was done, for good or ill.
He could not turn back now. Suddenly, the silent group came alive with
questions.

"How did you do that?"

"When are we going?"

"Are you Human?"

"How do we know you're not a Romulan spy?"

"Rescue ... "

"Home ... "

Castillo silenced them with a quick gesture. "Do you want to wake everyone
up? He's here, and Tasha trusts him. That's enough for me." He looked at Wes
expectantly, eyes filled with faith. Tasha trusted him, therefore Castillo trusted
him. That was love. The simplicity of it awed him.

Wes faced the little group.

"You have spent a long time here, too long. I'm going to ask you to do
something very difficult, and wait a little longer. I can't tell you how important
it is that this colony continue. If the Senator finds anything amiss, like all of us
gone, there is no way she'll let this place stand."

"So?" asked someone who sounded eerily like Imno. "What do we care what
happens to a bunch of Romulans after we leave?"

"The Klingons are in this, too."

"Last time we were in the future, the Federation was at war with the Klingons."

"You prevented the war. The Klingons are our friends, and the ones from this
colony are very important to future events." Or at least to my future events,
he added to himself.

"Where will we go?" asked someone else. "How do we set things right without
messing up the future? We're not supposed to be here."

"You'll have some time to decide that. The Senator arrives the day after
tomorrow. We all have to be on our best behavior. She'll be here about a week.
Once she's had a chance to give her report to the Senate, we leave. Say, two
weeks from tonight. By then, you'll have to choose whether you want to return
to your time or to mine. I'll tell you now: you can't go back home." The voices
murmured. "If you do, it will disrupt the timestream. I can't allow that."

Before there could be a large disagreement, he turned to Castillo. "You know
where the swimming hole is." He nodded. "There is a clearing just behind the
bushes there that should hold all of us if we squeeze. Over the next two weeks,
everyone should familiarize themselves with the place. We leave at midnight.
Whatever happens, don't be late." He did not need to tell them what would
happen when they were discovered missing. Anyone left would be executed.

In silence, the others dispersed a few at a time, until the only ones left were
Castillo, his roommates, and Wes. The other two men went to bed, leaving the
pair alone.

"She's told me about you," said Castillo suddenly. "Before we came here, the
whole lot of us were interned together on Romulus. We numbered thirty-eight
back then. We would be taken one by one and 'interrogated' for hours at a time.
Nineteen of my people died as a result of the questioning. When we weren't
being questioned, we were in a large cell somewhere in the bowels of the
Romulan military headquarters. It was always dark, and it stank, and there were
rats, or something like rats, crawling over everything.

"Sometimes, the only thing that kept me sane was Tasha. She'd tell us stories of
the future, about places she'd been and people she'd known. She told us about
her friends on her _Enterprise_, everything she knew, over and again. Your
mother was her best friend, and Tasha would tell us the stories she had learned
about your family. She never really had one, so maybe it was the next best
thing. I close my eyes every night, and I can hear her voice telling me about
your first steps and I can feel a rat run across my hand.

"When the interrogations were finished, we were going to be executed. Then
Tokath stepped in. He had not been involved with us until that day. He saw
Tasha, filthy, dressed in the smelly remnant of a uniform that hadn't been
designed yet, and he fell in love with her like that. He loved her in the
daylight, and I loved a voice from the darkness and we understood one another
completely. He cut a deal, letting all of us live if she would be his. She didn't
hesitate. They took her out of the cell, and I didn't see her again for nearly a
year. When we came here, I saw her at a distance, and all I could see was the
fierce woman of the ship from the future, and all I could hear was the voice
from the darkness telling me about people we would never see again."

He caught Wesley's gaze and held it. "There are things that bind people far
deeper than blood ties. You and I and Tasha and Tokath are bound." He seized
Wes's shoulders with a half-mad look in his eyes. "You must promise me that
you will protect her, no matter what."

Had it been daylight, had they been on a starship and among friends, Wes would
have laughed off Castillo's fears and told him that Tasha was far more capable
of taking care of herself than anyone he had ever known. The night was cold,
though, and filled with distant stars in unfamiliar constellations and the
dimming greenish light of a dying moon, and night-fears were more real than
daylight when all there was between life and the darkness was the flickering of
a fire and the popping manta leaves.

"Castillo ... " Sela had been so certain, and she and Belle had never mentioned
one another. Tasha had been dead for fifteen years, and also for thirty years,
and there wasn't a thing he could do to change the timestream. But she trusted
him and this soul- wounded man trusted him. "I promise." The madness faded,
and Castillo became himself again.

Without a word, Wes Changed back to his Romulan form, and slipped back to
his quarters silently. With the blankets securely around him, he tried to make
himself believe that the smoke in his nostrils was only his imagination.

VVVVV

The Senator was scheduled to arrive just past mid-day, in order to have a
proper daylight tour of the place before dinner. The meal was to be an
extravagant affair with traditional Romulan, Klingon, and Human dishes
prepared by the colonists.

Trehan had made five batches of breadcakes from his family's "secret recipe."
Wes, bothering him in the kitchen, was allowed to sample one and knew
immediately why no one had ever bothered to steal the secret.

One of the Klingons, a woman named Gi'ral, had decided to make a real treat
for the Senator. Without telling a soul, she had crept outside night after night
gathering ingredients. The day of the feast, she had finally told her friends about
the dish she planned. In the way of all small communities with too much time
on their hands, the rumor reached Tokath within an hour. His face took on a
pained look. He went to find her, and spent a great deal of time explaining why
gagh was not the best thing to serve to a member of the Romulan Senate when
trying to impress her. According to the story Wesley heard that afternoon, this
"discussion" culminated with Tokath consuming the worms himself, praising
them all the way down and excusing himself quickly afterwards.

The General did not attend the noon meal.

Through the afternoon, decorations hurriedly fashioned in the past two days
were plastered to the bricks like paint. Dried flowers and fresh were strung
from the central building to the edge of the compound on slender wires as a
papery display in blue and red and orange. Every movement of the humid air
drifted the exotic scents lower to where the people busied themselves, and now
and again some of the petals would come loose and settle to the dusty ground.

Anticipation set in, and with it nervousness. What if she wasn't impressed?
Worse, what if she came and decided that the compound would make a lovely
place for a Romulan- only settlement? Wes knew how things would work out,
but he couldn't tell the others, could only sit and watch them as the hours grew
old without the first sign of an arriving ship.

Well after dark, Tokath called a meeting in the courtyard. Looking a bit peaked
himself, he told them to go ahead and eat, that perhaps the Senator had meant
the following day. Almost in silence, everyone filed towards the dining rooms,
tramping carelessly on dirty flowers fallen from the sky. Inside, the now- stale
food waited patiently for them. There were some grumbles from the Klingons
that gagh at least would still have been fresh, but the words went unheard by
Tokath, who did not show up for dinner, either.

During the meal, word went around that the Senator's ship had broken down en
route, but that she had fortunately found passage on another ship. They were set
to arrive sometime in the next few days.

Another, less public announcement also was passed around: the Humans were
to meet that night to discuss the new problem.

Kriana and Arrhat came over that night. Arrhat left fairly soon, probably to see
Ekan and/or Qu'aemon, but Kriana stayed and talked well into the night. After
a while, Josolar turned in, leaving the three of them.

Out of nowhere, Wes realized that although he was welcome to stay, the couple
would really like him to leave. He made some excuse about wanting to take a
walk, and went outside. He wandered aimlessly for a bit, then headed to
Castillo's quarters. The other Humans had already gathered there.

He Changed to make them more comfortable. They went over the problem, and
after a great deal of heated discussion, decided to postpone the trip another
week. The others had no choice but to accept; Wes was the only one who could
free them. He could not tell them that he disliked waiting as much as they did,
that he knew what would come if he hesitated too long.

He felt time speeding away from him with burning wings. Tasha had less than
a month to go, and the Senator was late. Did he dare pull them out before the
visit was complete? That the colony was approved was a matter of history, but
if he managed to mess it up too soon, history would have something to say on
the matter. Not for the first time, he thought back fondly to when the only thing
he had to worry about was trying to get a look at the Bridge on the old
_Enterprise_.

Again they parted as before, a few at a time, with the last meeting set for the
night before the Senator's new arrival time. As Wes left, he saw his own fears
reflected in Castillo's lined face. He could offer no comfort; he merely tried to
smile, and walked out.

When he finally went back to his quarters, Kriana and Trehan were sleeping in
the main room, and Josolar was snoring in the bedroom. Sleep sounded nice.

VVVVV

Just past noon on the proscribed day, the familiar sound of a ship's engine
began to hum in the background. Everyone gathered in the courtyard to await
the landing. Tokath, the two liaisons and a few others, including Kriana, waited
at the opened gates. From a tiny point of darkness in the cloudless sky, the ship
grew at an interminal speed. After what could have been hours, it became clear
enough to see: pale blue, the shade of the morning sky, with lightly traced wings
that could have flown it without an engine. It was a lovely ship, a ship to bring
peace, like so many other vessels he had known.

Kriana, her eyes like twin moons, began to tremble. Wes couldn't figure out
why, until he looked at the ship again. He had seen it before, in a docking bay
on Romulus. His subconscious picked upon it, and gradually allowed the rest
of him to become aware.

With a bizarre sense of closure, he knew beyond a doubt that Senator Arkaed
had gotten a lift from Senator Turin. Of course Turin would be aboard, would
come ashore, would learn of the child Kriana carried. Heavens only knew what
he would do when he found out.

Damn him.

Then damn him again.

The blue ship touched gently to the ground.

VVVVV
Chapter 7: Magic and the Night

Senator Arkaed was lovely. Her hair, longer than the current fashion and black
with a few streaks of shocking white, coiled down past her slim waist. The
crimson of her form-fitting jumpsuit brought the slightest emerald tint to her
dark face, while her deep eyes looked past him into his better self.

When Wes could think coherently again, he took a closer look, and guessed her
to be about middle-aged, figure at least a century and perhaps older. This did
nothing to help the effect she was having on his self-control. Some very
interesting thoughts flitted through his head before he could stop them.

A man, perhaps fifty years old, joined her on the gangway, and from the
barely-controlled reaction from Kriana, he was the other Senator. He was about
average height for a Romulan, say about two meters, and had an open, friendly
face. At first glance, one would believe him an honest sort, the kind of man you
could trust. No doubt it made him a far more effective politician, and had
probably been the reason he was elected. Considering his youth, his experience
could not have been the reason.

Arkaed smiled at him gently, shyly. So it wasn't the gown that had put the blush
in her cheeks. Great. The senators were lovers. At the very least, he might
leave Kriana alone now. Her pregnancy was at that stage where she could still
get away with merely looking fat.

He glanced at her. She looked very very ill, and her discomfort grew as he
neared her. Something would have to be done and quickly, because Tokath had
just introduced L'Kor.

"My wife, our Human Liaison, Tasha." Turin took Tasha's hand with a
practiced air. However, he gave the impression of holding something unclean,
touched out of politeness and quickly dropped.

As Wes watched helplessly, the General turned to introduce his next friend and
associate to the Senators.

"And this is our most prized assistant ... "

"Kriana!" Arkaed's face lit with recognition and joy, while Turin offered no
more than a tight smile.

Arkaed paid no heed, and embraced her happily. After a moment, Kriana
returned the hug.

"Kriana, you never mentioned that you knew the Senator," said Tokath, a slight
edge to his voice.

"I didn't want to sound like I was dropping names, General," she replied.
Tasha, just behind her, looked on with veiled eyes, not smiling at Turin in the
slightest. Kriana must have told her. Maybe, if she told Tokath ... But no.
That would not change his plans at all; he still needed to keep the Senators
happy, and knowing that one of them had raped a dear friend of his would not
help.

"Kriana," said Arkaed, "do you think you could give us a tour of the compound?
We can catch up on things." She flashed a heart- warming smile at her. Kriana
wilted.

"She would love to," said Tokath, his tone allowing no protest. "Wouldn't you,
Kriana?"

"If you don't mind, I'm feeling a bit ill right now. I'm afraid I wouldn't be a
good guide." She wouldn't meet Tokath's eyes. "Once you've seen the place, I
would enjoy talking over old times. Just not right now." She squeezed
Arkaed's hand. "If you'll excuse me." She slipped into the crowd and was gone.

Tokath looked after her in more than mild shock. He was not often crossed.
Quickly, he covered. "If you might allow me, I'll show you around. We have
made a great deal of progress here in the past few months. For example, these
walls ..." With the senators occupied, the crowd slowly dispersed.

Wes went looking for Kriana. He found her back in her quarters, crying, with
Arrhat holding her hand. Half a second later, Trehan walked in and enfolded
her in a hug.

"He should be shot," he whispered. "Twice."

Kriana nodded. "I thought that I could face him, that it wouldn't be like this."
She shuddered. "I look at him and I can feel his hands on my shoulders and I
can taste his mouth and I feel so dirty." This last was said in a whisper. Her
tears flowed freely, and all Wes could think to do was to find her a
handkerchief.

Trehan kissed her hair softly. She jumped at the touch, and he pulled away. "I
won't let him hurt you. I promise." He looked at Wes for a long moment, then
left.

Wes pulled a chair over, took her other hand as gently as he could, and listened.

VVVVV

The night was filled with light and sound. Torches both flame and electronic
made the courtyard a place of wonder. Someone had found something
resembling tinsel, and had strung it in strategic spots to catch the flames and
shine them dancing back. Most of the prisoners had found something slightly
nicer to wear than their usual garb, and were ambling about the courtyard in
costume.

The masks were Kriana's idea. One night, she had been looking through the
computer records for something when she discovered, quite by accident, a
romantic little story about a masquerade aboard a starship. She fell in love with
the notion of dressing up in costume and becoming, for a night, someone that
she wasn't. The idea for the carnival had sprung from that. Tonight, most of
the people present wore some sort of disguise, and after a while, it became
difficult to discern the Klingons from the Humans from the Romulans.

As Wes walked through the crowd, he nearly ran into a woman with a
rust-colored owl mask. Her escort was uncostumed, and with a rush of
adrenaline, he recognized Turin. Obviously, Senator Arkaed had wanted to see
the booths and listen to the music. Such as there was.

Six Klingons had replicated a variety of instruments, and were playing
something interesting with a lot of percussion and a very simple melody. The
lyrics were low and guttural, and seemed to be part of the back beat.

Wesley couldn't quite make out what they were singing, but hoped fervently that
it wasn't along the lines of "Kill the Bloody Roms." He had offered to sing
something at the carnival, then been told point blank that if he tried, he would
lose the use of both arms for the next month.

At least Senator Arkaed seemed to be enjoying the music, had even greeted the
singers with loud applause after a decidedly ... interesting song. From the
words he understood, the lyrics sounded like something equivalent to the old
one about the salesman and the farmer's daughter. In Klingon. He sighed,
covering a laugh.

Turin just looked as though he were bored and trying not to show it, applauding
in the right places, a vacant smile plastered on his face.

Wes couldn't stay around to hear more; he needed to get his own show together.
Late one night in the barracks, when he was half-asleep, he had been thinking
how much his abilities were like magic, and how he might have been awed at
them had the Traveler never shown him just what was involved. This got him
to thinking about magic, and then about doing a magic show for the children.
At the thought of himself dressed head to toe in the traditional black cap and top
hat, he had laughed himself awake again. His laughter had also awakened
Qu'aemon, who had promptly thrown a pillow at him. Some people had no
sense of humor.

The sign, lettered by Arrhat, read "Come One and All to See the Magic of Dalek
the Great and Terrible!" It had a crude painting of a Romulan man in a hat
with stars on it. It was probably supposed to be him, and he had thanked
Arrhat for it, wondering to himself if she had ever Travelled as an artist the way
he Travelled as a musician. No wonder the Traveler had come as an engineer; it
had to be easier to pretend to be something one was good at because one could
always pretend to be worse.

Wes opened the kit he had assembled and emptied the contents on the table. He
had a deck of cards, three large interlocking rings, a mirror, and an assortment
of pretty stones he he'd found while working in the quarry and wandering in the
jungle. Another mirror was already in position just opposite the table. The rest
of his act would come from inside.

It was scheduled to start in about half an hour, but people were already
gathering. He stretched a blanket across the nearest archway as a curtain, then
went over his act in his head while the crowd grew. He'd considered asking
Arrhat to be his requisite "lovely assistant," then decided against it. Knowing
her, she would no doubt upstage him easily, and this was his show. She
could watch the performance with the others.

He looked out the curtain, and saw her sitting near the front with Ekan and
Qu'aemon. At least, he hoped they were Ekan and Qu'aemon. The Romulan
male wore a serpent's face and dress, while the Klingon sported a simple black
eye mask and blue jumpsuit, with a midnight blue cape over it.

Arrhat, of course, had to be different, and so had done something to her hair to
make herself a gorgon. She wore a very short, wispy, mint-green dress that
just barely qualified as clothing. One strap lay upon her right shoulder, but her
left side was nearly bare down to her waist. After a few minutes, Qu'aemon
gave her his cloak.

Shifting his view, he saw Kriana as she found a seat on the opposite side.
Trehan and Josolar were nowhere to be seen, but they would probably be along
soon. People dragged chairs from their quarters, others brought blankets and
spread them on the ground. For what was supposed to be a little bit of magic
for the children, this was quickly becoming a major event.

His mouth went dry. Out in the darkness, he saw Tasha, dressed as Arkaed had,
with a feathery bird mask and a blue gown that hid her stomach nicely.
Somehow, the dress was harder for Wes to imagine on her than the mask. With
her were her husband, in hues of gold, and daughter, who had a set of
tissue-paper wings that, with her carefully up-swept hair accenting her pointed
ears, made her look like nothing so much as a woodland sprite. L'Kor wore the
tusks of a targ, while his companion for the evening, who might have been
named Bechaba if Wes remembered correctly, wore an outfit in several shades
of brown. The two Senators were right behind them. The crowd parted for
them to get up front: there were obviously certain advantages to rank. Maybe
he should make some quick changes to the program.

He checked his chronometer --- no time. It would have to stand on its own.

He tugged into place his own costume, a simple black and white outfit, with a
black cloak and fragile white half-mask. He pulled the cloak around him and
stepped out.

He raised his arms.

"Greetings one and all! Greetings! Welcome to the realm of Dalek the Great
and Terrible, Wizard of Shi'hyne!" He waited for the applause to die down
slightly; everyone was in a good mood.

"The world of enchantment is a dangerous one. Those of you who dislike
danger, please leave now." A dramatic pause. "Very well. I see you are all of
brave stock. We shall see how you are at the end." He remained impassive but
grinned inside. The patter was as old as time itself. He had heard similar spiels
in theatres on ancient Vulcan, on the streets in New York four hundred years
ago, and in a bar on Proxima Centauri. The words were the same, the tricks
were the same, the same look of childlike wonder was on the faces of the
audience. That was the glory of it.

He let the flow of the words carry him along in his normal tricks. He did a few
card tricks, which involved calling up a member of the audience to pick a card
and then guessing which one it was. The mirror at the other end of the
courtyard worked very nicely with this trick. He did a few basic card tricks, but
only a few --- they tended to bore the audience after a very short while.

He moved on to the rings. With a few distracting spell words, he found the
places on them where the metal wasn't continuous and locked and unlocked
them easily. He moved on to juggling, and began to use his other abilities. He
took five of the stones, and tossed them up in the air. After a minute, he added
the rest of the stones. He then tossed the mirror up as well. Using the thoughts
of the audience as a power source, he kept all the objects airborne. As a last
touch, he plucked the mirror out of the air and balanced it on his head while the
rocks orbited. This brought gasps and then a standing ovation as he caught five
of the stones in each hand and a large jade colored one dead center in the mirror
without scratching it in the slightest.

He bowed and dropped the rocks. Damn. At least he caught the mirror; for a
time-traveler, seven years of bad luck could be a life sentence. He set it down
carefully, then finished his act with the grand finale which had given him the
idea in the first place.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, and the rest of you people," a few laughs, "I
will perform my final illusion. Traditionally, a master of magic should have a
beautiful woman at his side so that he can put her in a box and saw her in half
or just make her disappear altogether. I for one cannot allow another person to
be put into such danger, so I will do my most dangerous deed alone. I will
make myself disappear." He held his arms aloft, drew his cape around him,
and spun around. As he turned the third time, he stopped time.

The world was silent. He paused and just looked at the others for a moment, if
moments had any meaning there. Over a hundred people sat or stood in the
warm light, frozen as though an icy wind had blown through. He saw whispers
half-completed, mouths opened in yawns, hands raised to do something or
another, all stopped.

Well, almost all.

Arrhat glanced at her still husbands. "That's the quietest those two have been in
ages." She turned back to Wes and smiled. "Thought you might pull something
like this. Not a bad trick, though."

"Thanks. Why are they stopped?"

"They're not true Travelers. They can Change, and they help me when I go
someplace, but they haven't the talent to do it themselves."

"Then how did you find them? I thought you met them Travelling, the way we
met."

"I did meet them Travelling, although I didn't meet you Travelling."

"Then how ... "

"You certainly ask a lot of questions for someone in the middle of an act." A
somewhat evil smile crossed her face. "Want to make it a really fun trick?"

"Depends." He hated getting half answers.

She explained her idea to him and he laughed. This would be a spectacular
finish! They prepared in moments, and when they were in place, he restarted
time.

On the stage, a black-cloaked figure slowed its spinning. The audience sat
back, disappointed. So much for the trick. Then, a slim hand emerged from the
cloak, removed the white half-mask, and revealed a startled Arrhat.

Amid a burst of delighted applause, Wesley stood up from between Ekan and
Qu'aemon, who wore matching expressions of astonishment beneath their
masks.

With three steps, he was back on the stage. With a flourish, he traded capes
with Arrhat and received his mask. They took hands and bowed, Wes
confidently, Arrhat pretending to still be surprised. He kissed her politely on
the cheek and they both descended to cheers.

VVVVV

He supposed that being the center of attention wasn't all bad. Sela was
fascinated by his last trick, and dragged her parents over to pry the secret out of
him. Senator Arkaed joined them, but Turin and the Klingons had left. Wes
amused Sela with a few more card tricks while chatting with Tasha and the
others about magic and music. He was loving this: he could spend time around
Tasha with no thoughts of impropriety by her husband.

He pulled Sela's card from behind her ear, and she laughed. She had a very
pretty smile, and he couldn't help but return it. How could such a sweet little
girl ever become the cold Romulan Commander who'd tried to invade Vulcan?
He did another trick, this one involving the card "walking" along his arm, and
she giggled again.

As he played with her, he wondered where Arrhat had gone. She had wisely
pretended to be as shocked at the trick as the rest of the audience, then had
slipped away with her husbands.

"Dalek," asked Arkaed, "why were you sent here to the prison camp?" He
smiled and stopped time for a moment. He removed a ring from the Senator's
hand, and restarted it.

"Some people simply cannot appreciate a little magic now and then." He
opened his palm and revealed the ring. She gasped, then smiled, delighted.

"I thought you were arrested for vagrancy and public intoxication," said Tasha,
mirth in her eyes.

He flashed his best grin. "Okay, so a lot of people can't appreciate a little
magic now and then." He turned back to Arkaed, bowed, and said, "I am Dalek
of Lin'Ank, master troubadour and amateur magician. Would you like to hear a
song?"

"I would like that." He looked at her in mild shock, while Tokath, perhaps in
memory of the last attempt, winced.

Wes started into the first thing in his head: "The Lady of the Blue Ship."
Arkaed seemed to like it, and probably even thought it Bhad been just now
written for her. The look of enchantment on her face made him almost wish it
had been.

Tasha held Sela against her, absently stroking her soft hair. Her green eyes
were far away, in a Starry Isle of her own.

Tokath stood back and rubbed his ears, appearing somewhat pained. Music
critic.

As he neared the end of the ballad, at the climax, when the Lady looked from
the bow of her fantasy vessel to the captain of the tattered Blue Ship, he saw
Kriana standing alone near an empty booth, frozen in terror: Turin had just
walked straight through a conversation between two Humans, and was making a
beeline towards her. Wes had to do something fast.

He started to choke, then coughed loudly. The two women's faces turned to
concern, while Tokath actually looked relieved.

"I'm sorry. Must've strained my voice tonight," he rasped out. Turin was
halfway there and closing. "Please excuse me."

Arkaed's hand stopped him. "Perhaps a drink will help." She turned to Tokath.
"General, why don't you get this man some water?" Tokath looked miffed at
being ordered, but walked off in the wrong direction.

"No, thank you." He tried to push her away without being too obvious. Turin
was almost there.

From out of nowhere Wes could see, Arrhat appeared beside Kriana.

"There you are, darling. I've been looking for you all night." In full view of
Turin, she turned Kriana's frightened face to her own and kissed her with a deep
and lingering passion.
Turin's eyes went wide as he stopped dead. Arrhat paid him no attention.

"I don't know about you, but right now, I would love to get back to our
quarters," she said in a silky voice that could have sent a young boy through
puberty. She winked demurly and took Kriana's hand, led her back towards
their quarters. Turin flushed a bright green, and tried to appear as though he
hadn't seen her.

Wes grinned. Senator Turin obviously had a few personal icks to work
through. He would not be seeking out Kriana's company anytime soon.

Tokath returned with an emerald-green crystal glass filled with ... something.
Wes thanked him, then drank it carefully. A buzzing feeling went through him
almost at once, and he returned to the song with renewed vigor. At the end, he
added another stanza, which basically was a call to the audience to sing of the
Lady, and pray that someday she would return to the Starry Isle.

Arkaed applauded happily; Turin approached her from behind, and wrapped his
arms around her. Sela yawned as her father picked her up. Tasha stared for a
moment, then offered a smile and a handshake.

"That was lovely, Dalek."

Not to lose the opportunity, he took her hand, bowed, and lightly touched her
knuckles to his lips. "My pleasure, lady."

Perhaps Tokath didn't notice, for he made no reaction. With a final bow, Wes
left them and wandered through the crowd. His heart was light, his head
spinning in a pleasant manner. Happiness bubbled through him, and he knew
that he could do anything the universe asked of him.

For the last time in a long while, he felt joy.

VVVVV
Chapter 8: Thunder and Silence

The first thing Wesley was aware of was a reminder of why he should never
drink anything Romulan, alcoholic, or green. His teeth were alive with tortured
nerve endings. His eyes had an unidentifiable crust around them which made
blinking an exercise in pain-endurance. His tongue seemed to be attached to the
roof of his mouth by a process not unlike grafting two trees together. His hair
hurt.

The second thing Wesley was aware of was the extreme darkness. It was no
doubt well before morning, and all he really wanted to do was to point a phaser
to the orangutan that was trying to break out of his skull, then get more sleep.

The third thing Wesley was aware of was Ekan, shaking him awake and yelling
that someone had killed the Senator.

He sat straight up, regretted it immediately, then stood anyway. The room was
at a delightful angle, reminiscent of some very old vids he had once seen of a
"television program" starring two men who dressed up in tights.

"Holy hangover," he muttered, then looked at Ekan. The Romulan (Vulcan?
He wasn't really sure.) looked as though he could be hit with a ground car and
wouldn't notice.

"You didn't know about this." Ekan shook his head numbly.
"He never told us. He said that she'd fallen ill and had to go home." Not
Arrhat. The Traveler.

"Maybe the first time around, she did." She. His head was finally clear enough
to let the implications of "She" sink into him. "Arkaed's ... dead?" The words
felt distant, like something out of a storybook. The Queen died in childbirth, so
the King remarried, all long before the story ever began. No one ever mourns
the long-dead Queen.

"Not yet, but close enough. There was a snake in her bed. Turin found her,
took her to the infirmary. Josolar and Mirith are working on her now." His
voice lowered. "I don't know if Sunoph'l'pighis has enough venom to make
more antidote."

"Oh." He saw her, the long soft hair, the brightness radiating from her eyes,
heard that rich voice speak with perfect understanding of her place in the
scheme of things. A little part of him died as the next thought filled his mind.

"They don't have separate rooms, do they?"

"No, fortunately. If they had, he might not have found her until morning."

"If they had, she would have found him. Someone was trying to kill Turin."
Ekan's eyes went wide. Obviously, he had been too upset by the news, or he
would have figured it out on his own. "Did Arrhat tell you what he did?"

"Yes. You don't think that Kriana ... "

"I don't know," said Wes quietly. But he did know. Kriana would have done it,
given half a chance. For her sake, though, so would Trehan, or Josolar, or
Arrhat. Hell, he probably would have killed Turin if he wasn't terrified of
screwing up the timestream.

Trehan had told Kriana that he would not allow Turin to hurt her, but Trehan
was almost phobic of snakes. Josolar liked snakes and loved Kriana, although
he had kept it hidden fairly well. Arrhat knew how things were supposed to
turn out, could do anything within that pattern, and certainly cared for Kriana.
As for Kriana herself, he had no doubts whatsoever that she was capable of
killing Turin.

Ekan stared through him. Maybe he was telepathic, for all he said was "Fish."

VVVVV

A small crowd had gathered in the infirmary. Ekan and Wes found Arrhat and
Kriana sitting beside the large bird cage. One glance confirmed his fears:
Arkaed was not doing well. Without words, the four of them huddled together,
knowing what would come should the Senator die.

Tokath and Turin walked in from the opposite side.

" ... have utmost faith in Drs. Mirith and Josolar."

"I'm sure you do." Turin actually looked absent, lost. "Whoever it was wanted
to kill me, you know."

"Don't say that," Tokath soothed. "It was a needle-snake. We have them all
over in the jungle."

"In the jungle. Not in here." His eyes cast about the room, finally setting on
Kriana, who could only return the gaze. Wes had seen that look on deer with
light in their eyes, preparing to die. But there was something else.

She hadn't placed the snake in Arkaed's bed. Wes knew it to the center of his
being. Any of the others might have, but Kriana had innocence in her eyes. She
had liked Arkaed; she would not have harmed her to have revenge on Turin.
There were better methods for that.

Turin took this in, let his eyes wander more. Wes wondered who would bear
the blame. Turin couldn't blame Kriana without his own crime becoming public
knowledge, and Kriana was very well- liked through the colony. Another snake
could find its way into his bedroom.

The door to the surgery opened, and Josolar, exhausted, stepped out holding a
very weak-looking Sunoph'l'pighis. The bird held the snake in its gaze hungrily
and clicked its beak. Josolar took a deep breath.

"Mirith says that she has a chance. We managed to remove a great deal of the
poison, and our snake had venom to make just enough antidote. We hope. If
she needs any more, she will die. We wouldn't have time to get another snake,
and we can't replicate the venom or the antidote with the equipment we have
here."

A sigh went through the crowd. She would live! Before any amount of
happiness could seep in, though, Turin strode to where Josolar stood, and
announced:

"There will be an inquiry into this immediately. I intend to find out who tried to
kill the Senator using any means necessary. I am hereby taking command of
this prison camp until further notice." Tokath gaped, then started to protest, but
Turin silenced him. "If anyone attempts to impede my investigation, that
person will immediately be arrested for aiding and abetting the attempted
murderer. No one will be held above suspicion. Do I make myself clear?"

"You cannot put this colony under martial law," said Tokath, quietly. The
snake lifted its head to stare at the hungry bird. Josolar stilled its movement.

"This isn't a colony. Despite your opinion, General, this is a prison camp. It's
time it started to be run like one."

"I will contact the Senate. You have no right ... "

"I will also contact the Senate, and tell them how shoddy of a system I found
here, with prisoners allowed to walk around without any restraint. If Arkaed
dies, I will hold you just as responsible as the person who placed the snake in
her bed. Fraternizing with these animals has made you weak, Tokath. I
suppose your next wife will be a Klingon?" He grimaced. "At least Klingons
have some modicum of civilization."

Tokath merely stared at him, unbelieving. Thank goodness Tasha wasn't there.
Wes felt sick to his stomach.

The golden bird in the corner shrieked for the snake's blood.

"As Arkaed is ill, I have all the powers granted her by the Senate until she is
well or there is another Senator sent here. Until that time, what I say is law.

"Now, this is what I am going to do first."

VVVVV

The inquiry went quickly. With the help of his personal guards, Turin was able
to interview every person in the colony in the course of two days. He wanted to
know who had been where, when, and with whom.

Fortunately for Wes, he'd been seen by dozens of people that night, at all hours.
The magic show had granted him a kind of celebrity, and since he appeared
Romulan, he was not subject to the same scrutiny as the Humans or Klingons.
Amazingly, the Fabulous Five of Fish had only the briefest of encounters with
Turin, and released. Wes still held them as prime suspects, but Turin did not
seem to care, not even holding Kriana for longer than the others, and that
supervised by his guards.

After a while, it became obvious that he was holding the aliens for nearly twice
as long as the Romulans. Had one of them decided to take Imno's death to heart
and rid the universe of a Romulan or two? Wes didn't want to know.

VVVVV

By the end of the second day, Arkaed's condition had neither improved nor
deteriorated. She simply was.

Turin ordered all the prisoners to gather in the courtyard. They came, some
frightened, some beyond caring, all knowing that this announcement would
determine their fates for better or for worse. Wes stood with Trehan, Josolar
and Kriana, Arrhat near Ekan and Qu'aemon, and K'Toktehn all alone near the
perimeter of the crowd. Doctor Mirith was the only one absent, choosing to
stay with Arkaed in case of any change in her condition.

Tokath and Tasha stood together near the platform, Sela in front of them.
Without speaking, they held hands and waited for the Senator to speak.

Turin stepped onto the dais. No one had stood there since Imno's death.

"As you know, I have been conducting an investigation into the events of two
nights ago. As of yet, Senator Arkaed's condition has shown no improvement."
He paused, as if pained. "It is a pity that you prisoners cannot appreciate the
kindness that has been shown you by your benefactors. Some might say that too
much kindness has been shown you." He sent a significant glance towards
Tokath, who met the gaze with composure.

"Some would say that any kindness would be too much. Some people also kick
small animals for enjoyment." Tokath's voice was perfectly neutral.

"Some sleep with them." The General's eyes blazed. Tasha looked as though
she would spit nails. Preferably Turin's.

Trehan whispered to his friends: "So Turin sleeps with small animals, does
he?" Josolar shushed him, but Kriana smiled.

Heedless of the interruption, Turin continued: "My
investigation has uncovered a conspiracy among your so-called colonists."
Conspiracy? But there wasn't any ... A cool breeze skittered through the sticky
air, bringing chills down his spine. He couldn't possibly know ...

"The Humans," he said the word as if it tasted oily, "have been conspiring for
some time to overthrow the guards and seize control of the camp." No ...
"They have been gathering late at night, making plans. The last meeting was
the night before our arrival, no doubt to plan the assassination of Senator
Arkaed and myself.

"This behavior cannot be tolerated.

"The Humans will be sent back to Romulus on the next transport for more
detailed questioning. If Arkaed dies, they will be executed immediately. If not,
they may be permitted to live on Romulus in a more appropriate setting, since
they obviously cannot be trusted in a prison camp environment.

"So speaks the representative for the Senate."

Tokath, a flame burning hot within him, said in a dangerous voice: "I will fight
this with every ounce of my being, Turin. You will not do this."

Turin smiled, but it was cold and dry. "You have no say in this, Tokath. You
have little good will in the Senate right now. If you fight me relying on upon it,
you may find yourself in prison with them." He let that sink in, then: "I will
even grant you one 'kindness.' Your wife will be permitted to remain with you,
as you have already sworn that there was no way that she could have attended
the meetings without your knowledge, something I seriously doubt but will
accept for now. You will continue to run the prison camp for the Romulans and
the Klingons, assuming you can keep them in line, for as long as you live.

"However, if you do try to oppose me, I am afraid that your wife must be held
responsible for the actions of her friends, and you both will be taken to
Romulus for questioning as to how this debacle occurred. You should keep in
mind that no one else will take command of this camp should you be
imprisoned or executed. Therefore the Klingons would also have to be returned
to Romulus.

"I advise you to consider your options very carefully before you contact the
Senate." The trap sprung; Tokath's options had been reduced to two. He could
try to protect the Humans, and risk everything he had ever dreamed in a futile
fight against the man who held all the cards.

If he did, it was likely that all the aliens would die, his wife and daughter
included, and he himself would perish with his dream.

If he chose to remain silent, nearly one hundred Klingons had a chance for life,
and he could save the woman he loved, even if she would hate him for the rest
of her life.

There really were no options left.

"The transport will arrive in three days. During that time, the gate will be
locked. No one is to be allowed in or out. Any Human caught trying to escape
will bring instant judgement on all Humans in the colony. All of you will be
executed. The same holds true for the Klingons. Any Romulan caught aiding
an escape will be similarly dealt with. We will have order here if I have to
personally kill every prisoner. Do not make that necessary."

Then we simply won't get caught, thought Wesley grimly. His own path was
clear now: he had to get the Humans out. Tonight. There could be no more
delays. Tasha would have to come with them. If she stayed, she would be
executed as an accomplice.

He moved beside Castillo, and mouthed the new plan in his ear. With an
imperceptible nod, he agreed. There was something else, something that he was
forgetting ...

He whispered one final instruction. Castillo's eyes widened barely, but he
nodded again.

Timestream be damned. Tasha had to be told: Sela could not come under any
circumstances. He would cheat history after all.

He hoped.

VVVVV

The Humans could not risk another gathering in the compound: they needed to
reach the relative safety of the jungle for Wes to take them to the place they
would call home. This required them to actually leave the compound, a distinct
problem with the new orders.

Wes had an idea.

An hour before midnight, the plan went into motion. Ekan, who had been
brought into the Humans' confidence only by Wes's reassurances, was to stand
watch until midnight, when he would be relieved. He would turn a blind eye to
any attempted escape for as long as possible, but when his replacement arrived,
he would have to turn on them.

Having no other options, Castillo agreed on behalf of the others. In groups of
two and three, the Humans fled over the walls, being sure to leave ropes behind
so as to defer suspicion from Ekan. Everything was done in utter silence.

At last, the only ones left were Wesley and Castillo. Tasha had not shown yet.
Wesley kept glancing at his chronometer, worried. The next guard was due at
any time. Where was she???

Across the courtyard, a figure approached. Wes and Castillo ducked behind
two barrels, trying not to breathe.

"Who goes there?" said Ekan in a low voice.

"Reslan." The other guard. Damn! The two Humans stared at each other
helplessly. "I'm here to relieve you."

"Why? It's not midnight yet." Ekan's voice betrayed all the emotion of a
Vulcan.

"I thought you might like to spend some time with Arrhat." They could actually
hear the guard's grin. What a time for someone to be nice.

"Well, I appreciate that." Ekan was stalling. Wes risked a peek out, and he saw
why. The new guard's back was toward the courtyard, where Tasha stood
holding a bundle and looking
terrified. Despite his warning, she had brought Sela. He felt something turn
inside him, like a page in an old book, as he watched Tasha's actions become a
part of history.

She turned quietly towards the wall, where one of the escapees had left a rope
just out of sight of the guards. She stared up at the five-meter-tall wall,
despondent. There was no way she could climb it with a child in her arms and
another in her belly. The wall might as well have been fifty meters.

Carefully, she moved to the wall, and moved towards the locked gate. She was
still behind the guard, but would be unable to do anything if the guard was still
there when she drew near.

Wes counted his options. They could incapacitate the guard. They could kill
the guard. He couldn't Travel to Tasha; his Travelling wasn't exact enough. He
would probably end up somewhere in the woods.

Then all the options fled him, as Sela cried out and the next page turned. The
guard turned, raised her weapon.

Castillo leapt out to distract the guard. She spun, blasted him with her
disruptor. He fell to the dusty ground unmoving. She turned back to Tasha.

"Put the child down, and walk over here slowly." Tasha set Sela on the ground,
kissed her on the top of the head, then took a step forward. She turned on her
heel, and sprinted towards the rope as fast as she could, knowing that she would
not be able to climb it.

The guard aimed her weapon to fire.

Ekan's gun crashed down at the base of her skull and she fell. "This way!" he
hissed. Wes grabbed Castillo beneath the arms, and dragged him toward the
gate, which Ekan was even now in the process of opening. Tasha lifted Sela as
she ran back towards the gate.

The lock was impossible. Ekan changed the setting on his disruptor and
incinerated it. Wes carried Richard through and into the jungle.

After they had gone about a hundred meters, Wesley's arms burned. There was
no sign or sound of Tasha. A feeling of dread spread through him. He carefully
set Richard down behind a cicatrin tree, hoping that no needle-snakes wanted a
Human snack tonight. Almost without thought, he pulled a leaf from the tree.
For Jack. He moved back towards the compound.

The shouts inside confirmed his suspicions. They had been discovered,
probably from the disruptor blast. Against his better judgement, he climbed the
wall, and peered in.

Tasha, Sela, and Ekan were surrounded by armed guards. Turin must have slept
in his clothes, because he appeared fully dressed in front of them. Tokath stood
behind him in his night-clothes, agony on his face. Tasha would not meet his
eyes.

A straggling crowd gathered, as Turin gloated over his captives. Ekan just
smiled peacefully.

Wes wanted to stay, to see what he knew must come next, to prevent it if he
could, or die trying. Something else called him. There were fifteen Humans
who needed him. He had promised to free them, and if he delayed, they would
be discovered and then they would die.

He crept down from the wall, and slipped back the way he had come. The
warm night air had done nothing for the numbness in his heart.

He picked up Castillo, slung him over his shoulders, and carried him to the
rendezvous point. As they reached the spring, he came to, and Wes set him
down. His back thanked him.

"Come on. We're almost there."

"There?"

"The clearing."

"Is Tasha there?"

Wes stopped. There was a sting behind his eyes he hadn't felt in quite a while.

"No. They caught her."

"What?!" Castillo was fully awake now.

"She was right behind us, but she and Ekan were caught by the guards."

"We have to go back for her."

"We can't. If we don't leave now, they'll kill all of us."

"I'm not leaving her." He turned, and before Wes could stop him, dashed back
the way they had come. Wes considered stopping him, and knew there was no
time. He entered the clearing.

"They found us out. We have to go now," he said woodenly. He grabbed the
hands of the two nearest him. "Everyone hold hands, and think ... think happy
thoughts."

He began his breathing exercises, trying to calm his spirit enough to reach
inside, touch that part of him that Travelled the ways of time and space. Part of
him worried that he couldn't do it, that he had never Travelled with more than
one other person and what in the name of Kolker was he doing trying it with
fifteen others??

Like a flash of blueness from a leaden sky, he heard the Traveler's voice inside
of him, telling him how to dance across the universe if he would reach out just
so. He Changed back to his true form.

There! He felt it, like a smooth stone in his hand, warm as a Human body.
Gently, he twisted, opening the passage. He saw the timestream in all its glory,
stepped lightly into it, going for distance and not time, keeping his destination
firmly in mind.

And Travelled.

VVVVV

Insidethetimestreameverythingwaslightandcolorandsoundwithout
asoundorthebriefestbeamoflightandtheuniversewashisplaything
looktheregoesababyuniversemadeofmusichowcuteandallwasgoodand
sweetandmorebeautifulthanarainbowandhelookedtowheretheywere
goingandknewthatitwasgood.

VVVVV

The sky was green, the grass was blue. Then he fell.

The disorientation passed. Wes found himself staring face up into a gorgeous
Spring sky. Carefully, he stood. The others were grouped around him, looking
ill. The first time one Travelled, that tended to happen.

"Welcome to your new home."

"Where are we?" asked someone.

"Someplace safe. The world is called Gault. Assuming I got the placement
right, we are about one hundred kilometers thataway from the colony."

Groans went up from the Humans.

"You can reach it in five days if you follow the sun. By then, you should have a
story in mind as to why you are here. Maybe your shuttle went way off course.
Whatever you do, you cannot mention the _Enterprise_ or me, and you can
never tell about the prison camp, or the Klingons there." As Wes spoke the
words, he knew beyond a doubt that someone would tell, would start rumors
about the prison camp in the Carraya Sector and the Humans of the
_Enterprise-C_. That, too, was part of history. "Oh, and there should be a little
boy, a Klingon, in the colony. Be kind to him."

"What about you?" asked a woman Wes vaguely recognized as a leader among
them, although he couldn't remember who she was. Now that Castillo was
gone, she looked to be the one to take them the rest of the way home.

"I'm going back. I'm going to try to get Tasha and Castillo." He had not even
known until he said it, but as the words formed, he knew that his path had been
set long before he had ever taken his first breath and screamed into the San
Francisco morning fog. This morning.

"Good luck," the woman said simply. Fulton! That was her name.

"You too." He centered himself, reached inward again, and Travelled towards
the circle's joining.

Chapter 9: The Serpent and the Golden Bird

It was still dark, just barely. There was water in his shoes. Wes had managed
to Travel directly into the spring. It was a good thing he'd materialized right
side up this time.

He hoped fervently that he hadn't changed time-location, or else this would
become an impossible task. With a silent plea to no one in particular, he headed
back towards the compound as fast as he could.

Halfway there, he nearly ran headlong into a guard. The man raised his
disruptor. "Don't move, Human." Bloody hell. He'd forgotten to Change back
to Dalek.

Wes racked his brains for the guard's name. He had arrived with Turin.
"Tr'endet, what's this all about?"

"Cut it, Human. We know you tried to escape. Turin wants to make a special
example of the ones we catch. Tell me where the others are, and he might let
you die." Maybe, just maybe ...

"You've got it wrong. I was out taking a walk ... "

"Get moving." He tightened his grip on the disruptor.

"Okay, okay." This had better work. He began to walk in front of Tr'endet,
then turned around. "Wait! I forgot."

"What?" The Romulan was looking straight at him.

He Changed into a semblance of John Doe, a being of pure light thousands of
candle-powers in strength. The guard screamed as his inner eyelid slammed
shut, and he dropped the disruptor. Wes grabbed it, set it to stun, and shot him.
Then, he Changed into Tr'endet.

He quickly dragged the real Romulan into a thicket and left him. His sight
would return in a while, long after Wes was gone.

He walked back to the compound, trying not to look
conspicuous. He was met at the gate by a guard whom he knew, fortunately.

"Halt! Why are you back so soon?"

"Turin called me on my communicator."

"All right. Go ahead in." Whew.

He walked through the gates, and looked in shock at the courtyard. The dais
had another structure on it now, a wooden beam to tie prisoners to for
execution.

The first light of morning peeked over the horizon. If Turin was the theatric
type, he would schedule the execution for dawn and make it mandatory.

Already, people were gathering in the courtyard, trying not to look at one
another. He saw Kriana on the other side, her face pale and drawn. Josolar,
beside her, put his arms around her. She didn't seem to notice.

Within a few minutes, the majority of the prisoners were there. The absence of
the Humans was keenly obvious. A drum, very low, could be heard, keeping a
soft heartbeat in the background. Slowly, with measured steps, several guards
brought in Ekan, almost nude. His uniform had been torn from him in insult.
He looked at no one. His wife and husband were nowhere to be seen.

Next came Castillo and Tasha together, he leading her gingerly by the arm.
Wes suddenly noticed how swollen her stomach was. She could go into labor at
any time, and Turin would kill her anyway.

Castillo led her to the dais, where they stood together. There was something in
his stance, in her eyes, that betrayed them. She loved Tokath, but she had loved
Castillo first.

And Tokath knew.

The look on the General's face as he walked out behind Turin could have frozen
the heart of a star. He had loved her, had given her a home, had offered her
friends a chance for life, had made a child with her, but she would rather die
with her Human lover. Wes felt a brief pity for the man.

Sela stood in front of the dais, her eyes round. A Klingon woman, Gi'ral, held
her tiny hand. A sense of what must be filled Wesley as he remembered. Gi'ral
would eventually have a daughter of her own, a sweet half-Klingon
half-Romulan girl whom he would call Belle. Another circle.

Turin stepped onto the dais, and began to speak. The words were unimportant;
he would use any excuse possible to exterminate the Humans. Wes didn't
particularly care why. He heard Turin say something about fitting all the
remaining prisoners with baridium pellets to keep track of them.

He took a deep breath, and stopped time.

Almost.

The world speeded up and slowed down and people walked backwards and
moved slowly forwards. He didn't understand, until he saw Arrhat across the
courtyard.

"Arrhat! Stop it!"

She said nothing, only continued pushing against him lightly.

"He's going to kill Ekan. Don't you even care about that?"

Her eyes were hooded, but her voice was calmer than a summer evening. "You
cannot save them like this. The timestream would not survive it. Ekan
understands." She turned towards the dais, where Ekan awaited his death. She
would not give in, even for him. "This is your final test, Wesley."

He pushed harder, and she pushed back, not even straining. There was no way
to get past her. He stopped, trying to gather himself for one last assault. Time
moved inexorably forward again, as Turin read from his scroll the charges
against the prisoners. When he finished, they would die. The time-traveler was
out of time.

He looked around wildly, found himself in front of the infirmary. He ducked
inside. The golden bird cried out for freedom. That was it!

He turned to the bird's cage, and ignoring the nips, placed a hand over its eyes.
The bird went still. Good. He removed the hand, tore a strip from his uniform,
and tied it over its eyes. It wouldn't last long, but it didn't need to last for more
than a minute.

He drew the bird out, felt its talons pierce the skin on his arm, ignored it.

He opened the snake's cage, grabbed him firmly the way Josolar had shown
him, and lifted him out. The half-lidded eyes opened wide, and the tongue
darted out to taste the crisp morning air. He heard Turin's voice echo:

"The penalty for the above charges is death." It was time.

He strode outside, a giant golden bird on one arm, a huge snake held in the
other.

"Stop this!" His voice rang out with power and authority. He Changed back
into Dalek, and added a nimbus around him for effect. He was Dalek the Great
and Terrible, Wizard of Shi'hyne, the man who had taken down a Klingon
warrior, who held the two fiercest animals in the jungle in his hands without
fear, and who had just changed shape before their eyes.

"Release them, or taste my power!" He gestured, and flames appeared in the
fireplace. Of course it was an illusion, but it looked good.

The guards trembled and lowered their weapons. Turin was not impressed. He
raised his own disruptor and shot at Wes, who had just sense enough to duck as
the door to the infirmary vaporized. Damn.

The snake fell from his hand, as the bird's blinder came loose. Free at last, it
spread its wings, pounding Wesley's head with its power. Then, it seized the
snake, and flew into the sky.
He had to get to them now!

Wes ran on pure adrenaline. He launched himself towards the dais, almost
flying himself. Just a meter left to go ... He touched Tasha's hand. Ekan,
knowing what was to come, grabbed Castillo's arm. He Changed absently back
to his own form again. Center ... Center ...

"Kill them!" Turin's command cut through the guards' fear. They raised the
disruptors, pointed them towards the four on the dais.

Wesley turned his head as he tried to reach that calm center one last time, and it
was as though the timestream had slowed itself to a crawl.

A shriek from the dawn of time echoed through the compound, as the raptor
flew overhead with the serpent entwined in its claws. High against the
blood-colored morning sky, the bodies outlined in night and fire became
indistinguishable, the bird-serpent from ancient legend come to reclaim its
birthright as lord and master of them all.

The snake, wounded by the bird's talons and the long captivity, suddenly twisted
and snapped at its captor's wing. The bird screamed and dropped it, and Wes
watched entranced as the snake fell and landed at Turin's feet. Dying now, and
angry as all hell, it raised its head to strike at his unprotected leg ...

Center ... He touched it, stroked it lovingly, felt the power move through him,
become him, and he could do anything, become anything in that limitless
instant. He saw the timestream, splashed into it as a child splashes into a
wading pond. This was his true place, his gift. He held to Tasha's hand, and
Travelled.

Insidethetimestreameverythingwasbeautifulagainandhehadnot
feltsoatpeacesincenowwhoareyouarrhatbutyouarenotjustarrhat
areyouyouarefarmorebecauseicanseeyounowandwhatisthatyoure
doingwaitjustaminutetashawaitcomebackcomebackcomeback ...

VVVVV

He went back, of course. His first thought had been to find the other survivors
from the _Enterprise-C_, but his lost charges were not there, nor had they ever
been. The only place left to look was the colony.

When he arrived, he found himself in some anonymous patch of jungle. With
no other recourse, he tried to find a familiar path or landmark, listen for some
sign of life, anything. It took him most of the day, but he found a familiar trail,
and followed it to where he had left Tr'endet sleeping. He was, of course, no
longer there.

Quietly then, he went back to the compound, hiding at the least sound. He
reached the wall after nightfall, and again peeped over the side. Not a soul was
in the courtyard, and a brief premonition flashed through him: Turin had made
good on his threat to kill them all, and had left.

Then, he saw a guard, one of the camp's regular complement, standing in the
shadows near the gate. Wes realized, feeling a little foolish, that it was time for
dinner; everyone was probably in the common room. He decided to wait where
he was rather than risk entering the compound yet. He did not have long to
wait.

People began filing out, gathering around the dais. Wes saw Trehan standing
alone, watching the wooden structure as though it might tell him why all his
friends were gone.

Tokath stepped out into the firelight, gently holding Sela's hand. He did not,
Wes noticed, touch the platform.

"My dear friends," he began in a voice so unlike his own that for a moment Wes
wondered who had spoken. "These past few days have been a great strain on us
all. Death has visited our young colony far too many times." He paused, a
heavy weight on his soul. "I cannot promise you that it will not continue to
stalk our courtyard. I can, however, swear to you that this ... this monstrosity
that has seen so many die will itself die. Maybe, with these cleansing flames,
we can arise anew from the ashes."

He pulled down a torch from the wall, and cast it onto the dais. The wood,
somewhat damp from the wet air, did not catch at first. Then, with a sigh, the
hungry flames licked against it, and the wood erupted into flame.

The bonfire grew quickly. Klingons and Romulans gathered close by its light
and warmth. Trehan moved in, only to be joined by Josolar, just leaving the
infirmary. The two clasped hands and watched the fire, burning smoke in their
eyes.

Wes did not see Kriana or K'Toktehn anywhere, and hadn't really expected to
see Arrhat or her husbands. Some of the smoke drifted towards him, and it
smelled of campfires from long ago.

Kriana exited the infirmary a few minutes later. She spoke to Tokath, then
faced the firelit forms.

"You will be happy to know that Senator Arkaed has awakened." Wes could
see smiles amid the dancing lights. "Since her health is still fragile, she has
authorized me to act in her stead. I have already contacted the Senate with my
recommendations about the colony. I told them that General Tokath has done
an outstanding job thus far, and that he should be allowed to continue as warden
of this particular prison." Had the announcement come on a happier day, there
would have been applause. As it was, there was the scarcest murmer through
the crowd.

"I have also apprised the Senate of the events of the past few days, and of my
theories concerning them." She hesitated, but only for the briefest moment.
Tokath nodded to her.

"According to Doctor Mirith, the venom of the needle-snake is deadly within
ten minutes. Senator Arkaed was brought to the infirmary well within that
limit. Turin must have been there as she was bitten, but he said that she had
been unconscious when he found her. Also, one of his guards, a man named
Thindlst, was missing during the initial landing. Turin's other guards have not
seen him, although he was on the ship. This evening, one of those guards,
whom I shall not name, confided to me that Turin had ordered him to kill
Thindlst the night the Senator was bitten.
"I believe that Turin came here with the express purpose of destroying our
colony, and saw a conspiracy among the Humans as a means of doing just that.
I believe that Turin ordered Thindlst to capture a needle-snake, then had him
killed so that he could not turn informer. He used Arkaed, and he planned to
use us all. Instead, he was killed by another snake. You may be happy to know
that Sunoph'l'pighis is recovering nicely.

"I'd like to tell you that I know for sure that the Senate will accept my
recommendations, but I don't. All I can tell you is that we might have a chance.

"Thus speaks the representative for the Senate." With nothing more to say, she
walked back to where Trehan and Josolar stood. The three friends gathered
close together and watched the dying flames.

Wes knew how some things would turn out. He knew that the colony would be
allowed to continue, that Tokath would remarry and have another daughter, that
Sela would grow into the image of her mother. He knew that eventually the
Romulans would enter into a war with the Klingons, and would lose. These
things were a part of history.

He did not know how life would work out for Kriana the leader and her baby, or
for Trehan the dreamer and Josolar the healer. Perhaps he would never know.
He could not Travel back, for fear of meeting himself, and he probably would
not Travel to their future, just in case the war brought something to them that he
would not wish to face.

"Fish," he whispered from his dark perch, and convinced himself that the water
in his eyes came from the smoke that drifted up from the courtyard and floated
lazily towards the dark and dreaming sky.

VVVVV

He had not arrived far from where the Traveler waited. He was sure that his
footsteps, crunching through the Autumn leaves, were audible for miles. Like
he cared.

He saw the tall alien sitting on the large flat rock where he himself had sat a
lifetime ago to inspect a stone. He did not even have the stone anymore. He
sighed, then plopped himself down beside the Traveler.

After a long while, he said, "I failed." The Traveler said nothing, only sat and
listened. "Well, aren't you going to yell at me, or say anything?"

The Traveler turned his odd face to him, and smiled that mysterious smile that
had always bugged the hell out of him. "Congratulations. You have finished
your training. You are a Traveler."

Huh? "But ... I didn't pass the test. I lost Tasha. I had her right there. I was
going to take her and Castillo back home, and Arrhat stole them away with
Ekan. I failed her."

"You still do not see, do you?"

"See what?" What the hell was he talking about this time?

"You fulfilled your task, Wesley. The Humans are free and the colony will
thrive. As I said, you have passed."

"But Tasha ... "

" ... Is exactly where she needs to be. And Richard is with her. Be happy for
her, for they are both finally where they belong." He paused, as a sad look
crossed his face. "Now, it is time for you to go where you belong."

"Home ... " For a moment, he couldn't remember where that might be. Robin's
face filled his mind. Home was wherever she was.

"Yes. But first, I have three gifts for you. Consider them graduation presents."

He reached into a pocket, and drew something out. He opened his palm, to
reveal a small round crystal with flecks of something inside. Wes took it,
looked in, and saw tiny mirror images of his own face. He looked from the
reflections to the Traveler.

"I give you your past. You will find once more that which you had thought lost
forever."

He reached into another pocket. Again, he opened his palm, to reveal the
heartstone Robin had given him.

"I give you your present." With a cry, Wesley snatched it, held it against his
heart. It glowed a brilliant blue.

"How did you find it? I thought it was gone for good."

"I saw where Doctor Mirith put it, and I obtained it when she wasn't looking."

The words drifted through his foggy brain to settle home. "You saw ... "

The Traveler Changed into K'Toktehn. "I saw."

"You ... "

"While you sat here just before your journey, I went to Khitomer, got captured,
and spent years in the prison camp, listening."

"But why?"

"Because I knew you would need me there to help, and because I wanted to
know Dodge and Richard. Besides, you would have been pulverized in a match
with a real Klingon, but appearing to knock one down can be just as useful."
He smiled, and Wes knew it for the truth. He Changed back, then reached back
into his pocket one last time.

"Finally," he said, a strange sadness in his voice, "I give you your future,
Wesley Crusher." He opened his palm to reveal another heartstone, twin to the
one he held. While he tried to figure out exactly how he had come by another
one, the Traveler Changed again to the form he had during that trip to the
Renaissance, so long ago. He was Human, older, with silvering hair. He
looked like Wesley's mental picture of what his father might have become, had
he lived.

Or his father's son.

"Oh my god ... " he breathed, his mind refusing to comprehend the now obvious
truth.

"Oh, I'm sure I've had that idea now and then, but fortunately it passed."

Wes stared at ... himself. "That was how you always knew where and when to
be, isn't it? When Mom was in the warp bubble, you knew when to be there."

"Because I put her there in the first place." Spirals had filled his/their dreams
for years, and suddenly the spirals connected, ran back upon themselves. The
universe was clear and free and beautiful as the crystals in his hand.

Wes, the younger, asked the only thing that popped into his mind: "Who is
Arrhat?"

The older Wes smiled affectionately. "'Arrhat' is someone very special to me,
or should I say us. Do not judge her actions. She too does as she must. I
promise you that you will encounter her again."

"Obviously." They both laughed.

"You must return to Robin now," said Wes the elder after an endless time.

"Can you tell me anything else before I go?"

"Just ... Just love her. Be the universe for her. You still only have a lifetime,
and it won't be long enough to spend with her."

Wes nodded. "When will you go now?"

"First? I will go to your wedding. My memories have grown hazy, and I would
really like to refresh them. After that, I have one last stop to make, and then I
can go home."

"Which is where?"

"You already know." He did, too.

Chapter 10: The Past, the Present, and the Future

Wesley saw the house not ten meters away. It had been two years by his own
reckoning since he'd last been there, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that
he'd reached it so easily.
The cottage was a replica of the original family home, according to Nana
anyway. The thick stone walls were made to hold in the warmth of the
fireplace, while the interior furnace, tastefully hidden between the walls, made
sure that the coziness was more than just ambience. The Howards were proud
of their history, but none of them were fools.

He keyed the electronic lock and stepped into the gloom. The caretaker had
kept it clean for them, chasing away the cobwebs, making sure the pipes didn't
freeze and generally keeping the roof from falling in, but he had no reason to
keep the lights on when the family was not expected.

Fortunately, he had also been told that Wesley had a habit of just showing up
places when he was not expected and could he possibly keep some
non-perishables in the pantry and make sure that the new replicator was
functioning right and by the way could he also not mention to anyone how the
older son tends to appear out of nowhere even when there may not have been a
ship in orbit for weeks and how he often arrives in the middle of the day though
nobody ever actually sees him come thanks ever so much and here's that bonus,
by the way ...

The caretaker was a nice gentleman by the name of Tom Norris, who was quite
intelligent but had very little of the fanciful speculator about him, a great asset
in a man with twin daughters ready to go away to school. If put to the question
as to why he watched the house, he would laugh and say something about doing
a favor for an old friend, or sometimes about getting paid to make sure a house
didn't get up and run away. What he wouldn't say, even to his wife, who had
also known a young woman named Beverly Howard once upon a blue moon,
was that he felt particularly unnerved by Bev's kids. The younger tended to
look at people with the same scrutiny his own children, and Tom himself, had
once scrutinized the slugs on the tomato plants. The older ... Anyone who
tended to appear literally out of nowhere, sometimes looking much older than
he should or younger than he had a right to be, who could leave just as
mysteriously with a note of thanks and no footprints on the muddiest days, well,
Tom just as soon preferred to keep someone like that happy. Were he a very
imaginative man, he might have contemplated cloaked vessels and transporters,
possibly espionage or even smuggling of illegal goods. Fortunately for
everyone, he did not think about such things, just as long as Wesley didn't leave
too much of a mess and the nice retainer appeared in his account at regular
intervals. Wes liked Tom Norris.

He found the window and opened the curtains, then went looking for the
replicator. After he'd eaten something (lunch? dinner? People who thought
travelling through space made for bad jetlag never tried wading through the
timestream), he located the comm panel (in the living room on the coffee table
beside a photo album that had been full for at least a century).

His wanderings through the past were done for now. It was time to live in the
present.

VVVVV

"Admiral Rossa would like to speak with everyone who calls her, but if she did
she simply would not have time to do anything else," explained the annoyingly
cheerful commander at Starfleet Headquarters.

"Could you please just tell her that I called? We need to discuss an offer she
made some time ago."

"Of course. If you'll tell me what it concerns, I'll pass along the message when
she gets back."

"Tell her my name. Tell her she can reach me on Caldos. She'll know."
Before the commander could ask anything else, Wes closed the channel and sat
back in the chair. Three hours of going through the usual channels simply to
leave a message for the Commander in Chief, Starfleet, was not his idea of a
pleasant afternoon. With his current luck, the Admiral wouldn't even
remember him. Well, he could always call back.

He had wanted to save the next call for last only because he'd wanted to have
some good news to tell, but then again, he would have time for that later. All
the time in the universe.

He keyed in the code and hoped that she was off-duty. After what felt like an
hour, the screen dissolved into a face he'd feared more than once that he would
never see again.

"Hi stranger," she said, her voice uncertain.

"Hi beautiful. Want to get married?"

Robin pondered this for a moment. "Depends. When?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Patrolling the Neutral Zone. We won't be back to your part of the galaxy for a
few weeks yet." She hesitated. "Are you serious this time? I mean, are you
going to tell me in a month that the Traveler wants you to go into Ancient
Andor to interview Telev or something?" They'd done this before, talked both
virtually and in reality, only for him to go playing in the timestream again. She
had no reason but his word that this time would be any different.

"Not unless I want to go myself. I'm finished. The Traveler told me that I've
completed my training with him. For good this time." As to what else the
Traveler had told him, he could find a way to tell her someday.

"In that case," she said, looking as though she might cry, "let's plan a wedding."

VVVVV

The _Enterprise_ was out on a mapping mission, and wouldn't be back for two
months. The _Hood_, where a certain Lt. Cmdr. Lefler served as Chief
Engineer, would be ferrying diplomats back and forth to the neutral planet
Geneva, where the _Pasteur_ was currently stationed, and looked to be so for as
long as the peace talks continued. Meanwhile, the _Chekov_ was on a mission
to the Gamma Quadrant for a reason her captain could not go into, but it was
scheduled to return in about six weeks and could be pursuaded to detour by
Geneva for a day or so. Alexander was due for a vacation in about three
months, and could probably arrange passage to Geneva if his security clearance
went through in time.

Then there was Geneva itself.

It had been chosen for the peace conference for a very good reason: no
indigenous intelligent lifeforms, and a location just at the corners of Federation,
Romulan, and Klingon space. The conference was to finalize a new alliance
among the Federation, the Klingons, the Cardassians, and the Romulans (The
Romulans? The last Wes had heard of sector politics, the Romulans were
quickly losing a war with the Klingons, who were more than prepared to occupy
the Romulan Empire. He'd have to look into this more when he had a chance).
The independent races like the Borg and the Ferengi were also invited to come
and voice their own concerns. Even the Hortas had sent an ambassador.

With the chance for peace so close, the leaders of the four main factions had
already arrived, with various ambassadors and diplomatic functionaries from all
interested parties coming and going throughout the somewhat tedious process of
writing the actual treaty. Security forces from every race imaginable set up nets
and cameras and as often as not ended up spying on one another just as much as
on the attendees at the conference. It was a merry mess, full of pomp and
circumstance and blustering and quiet rooms filled with ambassadors who had
been working together so long they were closer friends with their declared
enemies than with members of their own species.

In the middle of it all, his stepfather was acting as the Head Ambassador for the
Federation, since he had made a favorable impression on all the above leaders
in his days as a starship captain. The Klingons remained indebted to him for
helping them through internal problems, while even the Cardassians would
allow him to help them towards agreement. Add to this his half-Klingon,
half-Romulan aide, who was fluent in twelve languages and growing, and was
already being groomed for an ambassadorship of her own although she was a
year younger than Wes. This made the ambassador's often maddening job
somewhat easier.

Jean-Luc had once described the job of mediating disputes among the Big Four
as akin to walking through a cow pasture with a shovel, trying to get the exact
same amount of manure on every square centimeter of ground without stepping
in it, all the while balancing a shuttlepod and a cat on his head and trying his
best to avoid the ambassador from Betazed.

This was not a description he mentioned to anyone who would carry it back to
said ambassador, fortunately.

What the peace treaty meant for Robin and Wesley was that everyone would
meet in orbit around Geneva in three months. They would have a small
ceremony in the Ten-Forward lounge of the _Pasteur_, with the wedding party
consisting of her parents, his mother and step-father, his brother, and a very
small guest list of friends who were like family. For no reason he could justify
to himself, Wes added three more invitations and silently hoped.

It would be a short, intimate gathering with Robin in her dress uniform, Wesley
in an appropriate suit, both conducted through it all by his mother. They could
have the wedding, have the reception, and then everyone could hop aboard their
own ships or beam down to the planet, as the case might be. It was a good plan.

VVVVV

The plan changed. Someone in the Ferengi delegation overheard Ambassador
Picard conversing with Captain Picard via subspace concerning their son's
upcoming wedding. To be precise, the aide to the Nagus was eavesdropping,
hoping to discover some profitable information, but the result was the same.
When the Nagus heard about the wedding, he declared that it would be a perfect
opportunity to get in good with the ambassador and make a show of
respectability among the other diplomats there. Considering the Nagus'
current level of respectability in the eyes of his fellow politicians, any change
would be an increase. When he told Ambassador Picard of his intention to
attend the wedding, in the presence of several representatives of various parties,
there was no way for Picard to politely tell the Nagus that he wasn't invited.

The Head of the Klingon High Council soon after took Picard aside, and asked
him very politely, at least in consideration of the stereotypical image of the
Klingon who would just as soon eat a book as read it, as to why the Grand
Nagus had been invited to his son's wedding and not the Klingon delegation.
Had Picard forgotten the many years between them? No, Picard had not
forgotten; he simply had not yet had time to send out the
invitations. He would, however, be certain to hand-deliver the invitations for
the Klingon delegation just as soon as they were properly ready and would the
Emperor be coming as well?

According to twentieth-century astronomers, stars formed when pockets of
hydrogen gathered together to form larger pockets. Gradually, gravitational
forces would pull in still more hydrogen until the mass and density of the gas
caused enough heat for the gathering to combust.

A similar process took place with the guest list for the wedding.

By the time everyone's ego had been satisfied, the guest list, which had formerly
been given a top limit of twenty, now numbered slightly under five hundred,
which included the Leader of the Klingon High Council, the Emperor of the
Klingon Empire, the Praetor of Romulus, the Proconsul of the Romulan Senate,
the Head of the Obsidian Order on Cardassia, the Commander in Chief of the
Cardassian military forces, the President of the United Federation of Planets, the
Commander in Chief of Starfleet one Admiral Connaught Rossa, the Grand
Nagus of the Ferengi Alliance, Hugh the acting head of the Freed Borg
Collective, assorted ambassadors from every planet, everyone's husbands and/or
wives, about two dozen offspring, one larva, and Boothby, who had been talked
into it only because Ambassador Picard had personally promised him a tour of
the famous Geneva Hanging Gardens. It looked to be the social event of the
season.

The original group who had been invited talked quietly amongst themselves
about just sending presents and then leaving the quadrant at Warp 13.

The original bride who had been planning the wedding came close to calling the
whole thing off when she heard the news from her soon-to-be-stepfather-in-law,
with the words that had she wanted a circus, she would have married a clown.

Ambassador Picard, who had known his wife for half his life and still had
problems understanding her and thus knew very well that he had no hope of
explaining things to Robin, contacted his stepson, who was still on Caldos
waiting for Admiral Rossa's return message, and told him what had occurred.

Wes contaced Robin, and they had a long discussion about life and love and
why they should have gotten eloped ten years before and forgotten this mess.
However, with his parents there, hers on the way, and Guinan graciously
agreeing to cater everything no matter where the bloody thing was held, they
really had to go through with it.

Very shortly after this, Wesley received a message from Admiral Rossa, who
had finally gotten his original message and who of course could never have
forgotten him and how would he like the title of Starfleet Temporal
Ambassador at Large with a tidy income attached so long as he would agree that
any interesting historical tidbits he might learn or pick up in his travels would
be turned over to the proper authorities for study and of course he realized that
officially Starfleet and the Federation had not even heard of Travelers since they
had discovered the previous year that Tau Alpha C was uninhabited other than
by protobacterial lifeforms so could he possibly keep his abilities quiet and by
the way this was the Admiral's private office number he could feel free to use it
oh he should know that the admiral's personal secretary had been reassigned so
good to hear from him and she would see him at the wedding.

It was a long three months.

VVVVV

The day arrived. Robin had been sequestered in the guest quarters assigned her
since the morning. She had spent the day with Belle, Lal, and a woman she'd
known from her academy days whose name Wes was still incapable of
pronouncing. The women had kicked the men out the previous evening right
after the rehearsal dinner, then spent the rest of the night talking about them.
Captains Riker and Worf immediately implemented Operation Bachelor Party,
only to discover that the subject of the occasion, who had attended similar
soirees for them and knew the usual aftermath, had wisely locked himself in his
own quarters. Fortunately for everyone, there was not a lock in existence that
had ever kept out Data, and the festivities went on.

This, Wes decided, was why so few husbands could remember their
anniversaries: they probably couldn't remember much of the wedding, either.

Ambassador Picard had agreed to meet the guests and show them the way to the
_Pasteur_'s largest room. This was actually all five of the ship's holodecks with
the walls separating them removed and the whole thing made to resemble the
Ten-Forward lounge from the late lamented _Enterprise-D_, albeit much larger.
Captain Picard bowed out of escort duty, claiming that she still had a ship to
run. The ambassador did convince several of their friends to assist in this
endeavor, which led to the Grand Nagus of the Ferengi Alliance being escorted
to the main holodeck of the starship _Pasteur_ by an android starship captain
and a former Maquis. It was an interesting morning.

Near the end of the beamups, Wes joined Jean-Luc and Belle in transporter
room four. All of the others were busy with various tasks, he was not allowed
to see Robin, and frankly, he really didn't want to be alone for fear of
accidentally Travelling to Ancient Pakistan or somewhere out of sheer
nervousness.

The Breen delegation beamed up, and with some devotions to the god of
Protocol from both sides, they were shown the way to the holodeck.

"How many more parties are arriving?" asked Wes when they returned to the
transporter room. The chief checked the panel.

"This should be the last one. It's the Romulan delegation."

Wes saw Belle's eyes light up with anticipation.

"Do you know the ... " He was cut off by the whine of the transporter. Seven
forms materialized on the pad. Jean-Luc and Belle stepped forward to greet
them.

"Praetor, Proconsul," he said. "Thank you so much for joining us today."

Belle spoke almost at the same time: "Welcome to the ship! I was hoping
you'd come!" She smiled and embraced the Proconsul warmly.

Wes stood back from them, staring.

I give you your past.

His stepfather was saying: "May I present Wesley Crusher, the groom? Wesley,
this is ... " He let the words pass by him as he shook hands with the Praetor of
Romulus. She was still wearing red, and her dark hair still had the brilliant
streaks of white, but not a wrinkle had graced her features.

"Pleased to meet you, Praetor Arkaed." He turned to her husband, a man who
thankfully looked nothing like Turin, and also greeted him.

Then he faced the Proconsul of the Romulan Senate, flanked by two men whom
Jean-Luc had just identified as her consorts, one built large and stocky, one
slimmer and closer to the Romulan ideal, and between them, the woman who
had changed the fate of the Romulan Empire.

"Congratulations, Wesley," she said in that softly accented voice. "Marriage is
one of the grandest journeys anyone can take." She smiled happily at her
husbands.

"Thank you, Proconsul," he managed to get out. There was so much more that
he wanted to ask, to say, but the words escaped him. He repeated, simply,
"Thank you."

Trehan laughed. "Wedding day jitters. Gets every man I've known."

Josolar looked over at him. "So that's why you walked into the doorframe the
day of our wedding." He explained to Belle: "He was unconscious for over an
hour. I was convinced he'd given himself a concussion." She smiled, as Trehan
pretended to be shocked. Kriana grabbed a hand from each.

"That's enough, children." She sent a silent plea to Arkaed.

"Ambassador, perhaps you could show us where to go." Everyone else already
transported, the whole party went, with Wesley trailing along behind, drinking
in their presence.

"How is little Valkrys?" asked Kriana.

"She's decided that if walking is good, climbing is better," said Belle. "Right
now, she's in Robin's quarters. She may be flower girl, but not if she tries to eat
the freesias again."

They made small talk for a few minutes, and then they were at the holodeck
and there was no more time. Wes tried desperately to think of something to say
to let them know, but his mind was blank.

The Praetor thanked them for the escort, prepared to move inside and what if
he couldn't find them again after the reception?

"Proconsul?"

"Yes?"

"At the reception, we're having Beluga caviar. I think you'll like it." The others
stared at him.

"Ba'el ... " started Kriana.

"Ummm ... Fish eggs, I believe."

"Ah." She said nothing more, but a smile graced her lips as she nodded to them
and went inside.

"What was that about?" asked Jean-Luc uncertainly, visions of interstellar
conflicts no doubt dancing in his head.

"The past," said Wes, and smiled. "We should finish getting ready."

VVVVV

He stood in front of the mirror, checking his suit for about the billionth time. It
was a simple suit: dark pants and jacket, with a white shirt. The matching tie
had been ritually sacrificed the night before in a mysterious ceremony involving
a pair of scissors, a bottle of champagne, three poker chips, cat fur
(unintentional), a book of matches and some kiwifruits. He brushed an
imaginary bit of lint from his shoulder.

"Wesley," said Jean-Luc, patiently standing behind him, trying somewhat
unsuccessfully to make Jack keep his clothes on. "You look fine. Stop
worrying. That's an order."

"Too bad I'm not Starfleet, isn't it?" They shared a smile, and he felt better.
Jack looked from his father to his brother, then went back to figuring out the
best way to untie his
uncomfortable shoes.

Jack was dressed in a smaller version of Wesley's own suit. As ringbearer, he
had to look his best.

His father looked handsome in an outfit reminiscent of his old dress uniform:
red, long, with gold braiding around the collar. His legs were in tight black
leggings, to the delight of his wife who swore to anyone who would listen that
he had the best legs in the Federation.

"Where's Mom? I was sure she'd find an excuse to come in here and cry."

Jean-Luc snorted. "Hardly. Last I saw her, she was heading towards Robin's
quarters to counteract Eliza's influence again."

"Uh oh."

"My thoughts exactly."

Eliza was his soon-to-be-mother-in-law. Eliza was a plasma specialist, like
Eliza's much quieter husband Chester. Eliza was a very interesting woman.
Eliza didn't like Beverly Picard. Eliza thought that children should only be
conceived in wedlock, and when Eliza first met the somewhat-pregnant woman
who was to become Eliza's daughter's mother-in-law, the woman was still
called Doctor Beverly Crusher and had no intention of marrying the father of
her child until her other child was there. Eliza didn't like that. Eliza thought
that Eliza's daughter had become attached to a family with no morals
whatsoever. Eliza had forbidden Eliza's daughter to see Wesley ever again.
Eliza's daughter had told Eliza exactly where Eliza could go.

They had since made up, fortunately.

There was a chime.

"Come," said Wes, and his mother entered. He glanced knowingly at Jean-Luc.

Before she could say anything, Wes asked, "So is there anything left of Eliza, or
should we leave the sector before the authorities arrive?"

"Wesley, really! I wouldn't hurt my favorite in-law, now would I?"

"I didn't ask you about Robin. I asked about Eliza." She laughed, then bent
down to Jack.

"Now what do you think you're doing, young man?"

"I hate this suit, Mommy. It itches!"

His father bent down, and said in a conspiratorial voice, "Trust me, Jacky. It
gets worse as you get older."

Beverly straightened, not quite as quickly as she once had. She was in dress
uniform: cranberry red and form-fitting, it looked a bit like her husband's outfit.
Her legs were also clad in tight black, which his stepfather enjoyed for more
than one reason. First, she looked fantastic (his mother and her husband still
had very healthy libidos, something which made Wes more than a little
uncomfortable), and second, if he had to wear them, she had to wear them.

"Wesley," she began.

The door chimed again.

"Come," they said in unison.

The door opened to admit an older couple, both probably well past ninety, he
with salt-and-pepper hair and deep brown eyes, she with pure white hair drawn
back, and eyes the green of the sea. A younger woman was with them, her
delicately tapered ears betraying her half-Vulcan ancestry (so he had always
been told, anyway), with long, straight blonde hair. His mother paled as her
other in- laws stepped uncertainly into the room.

Jack, never one to be at a loss for words, asked them "Who are you?" For a
fleeting moment, Wes thought of Arrhat as his mind tried to assimilate the
appearance of people he had not seen since he was younger than his brother.

"Jacky, these are my great-grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Crusher, and this is my
great-aunt Rachel."

"Hello, Wesley," the older woman said, her voice just on the edge of quivering.

"We got the invitation, and thought that now would be a good time to say hello
again," said the man. He and his wife both looked extremely ill at ease, while
Aunt Rachel remained impassive.

Beverly, still in minor shock, said, "It's always a good time."

Time. Wes said quickly: "Could I talk to the two of you alone? We only have
a few minutes left."

Jean-Luc picked up Jack. His mother squeezed his hand briefly, then they left
with Aunt Rachel, no doubt still wondering just what was going on. Wesley, on
the other hand, was beginning to realize one of the secrets of the universe.

For the first time in twenty-five years, he faced his father's grandparents. "You
knew. You knew to come today."

She spoke. "Fifteen years. And you said you hadn't been married yet. Today
seemed like the first day that wouldn't destroy everything."

Your existence depends upon a paradox.

You are here to correct the paradox, but first you need to set it into motion.

You will find once more that which you had thought lost forever.

Hesitantly, he reached out and took her hand, touched his arm. "Welcome
home, Lady. We've missed you so very very much."

VVVVV

Had Ten-Forward, real or imagined, ever looked so alive with faces and
flowers? Had there ever been such music? His heart soared inside him as Jack
walked towards them with a pillow carrying two golden circles.

He waited, watching Robin walk down the aisle hand-in-hand with her father
and mother. She reached him, kissed her parents, and then took his hands. His
mother smiled gently at them all, then turned her eyes to the book she carried.

"We gather here today ... " Her words floated over and through him.

"Wesley Richard Crusher, do you ... " He was certain that he answered the
appropriate "I do," but he couldn't remember it. All he could see was Robin's
bright face looking into his soul and smiling at what she found there.

I give you your present.

Suddenly, without his being aware of it, his mother had reached the part where
she said, "By the power invested in me ..." He stopped time.

Wesley looked around him. His mother stood before them, ready to bless the
union with words made sacred centuries before. His stepfather stood beside
him, holding Jacky's shoulder to keep him still, acting as best man just as he had
stood for Jack, and as Wesley had stood for him in his wedding. The circles
continued to close.

Robin's friend of the unpronounceable name, Chester and Eliza were to the
other side of Robin, Eliza attempting to smile at his mother. He ignored her.

In the audience, he saw faces he had known and loved for the better part of
forever beaming good will back to him: Geordi and Laren, Deanna and Will,
Worf and Ba'el, Guinan, Data, Saavik, Reg, Miles, Keiko, Tom, Jaxa ... These
were his universe. He saw their children, ranging in ages from the twins, who
were almost as old as Jack, to Valkrys, who'd just turned one and had developed
a taste for freesias, to Lal who was both older than them all and younger than
the baby. There was no sign of Q or Amanda. It was just as well. He recalled
quite clearly what they had done at his mother's wedding.

Closer to the middle, he could just make out where his three favorite Romulans
watched unknowing. He wondered how life had turned out for them, how many
children they had, if they ever thought about him, or their group's mad little
sister. He would find a way to ask, somehow.

At the rear of the room, behind the diplomats and the professional
manure-spreaders, he could see another set of three. The story he had always
been told was that Aunt Rachel's father had been a Vulcan trader far from home
at the wrong time, that he chose to remain quietly anonymous, that her mother
had married her stepfather a week before her birth. As to the truth, well,
Guinan had once said that truth was in the eye of the beholder. He beheld them
motionless, and understood.

Then, he saw another pair who were not frozen. The Traveler sat in his Human
form, his own older self, and the thought warmed him, with a beautiful young
woman beside him. It was, of course, Arrhat in her Human form, with her
sky-blue eyes that still seemed so familiar ...

I give you your future.

They both nodded at him.

He started time again.

" ... by Starfleet Command, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Then, the only thing left for him to do was to kiss the bride.

So he did just that.

VVVVV
The End