Author: Christy Anderson
You can contact me at kittyunlimited@go.com.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount minus Ensign Christy Anderson and a few selected insignificant characters
Author's Note: Hey, almost done! This will be wrapped up in two more parts- getting there anyways. As always, this section was a joy to write, and I hope you have as much fun reading this. Until later, Christy
* Added Disclaimer: The story of Peter Pan was written by James M. Barrie (1860 - 1937).
Time's Chosen: Part 5
"So what's your prognosis, Doc?" Tom chuckled uncomfortably.
The Doctor shot Tom a snide look of annoyance. "I told you, Mr. Paris, that if you insisted to stay while I examine my patient, you must be silent! Besides, you have larger problems to worry about." Tom looked over at me.
"Have you told the Captain about him?" Kes asked quietly from over where she was assisting the Doctor.
"We just came from Transporter Room 2. I haven't gone to see her yet."
"More like it hasn't convenienced you yet, Mister Paris. Excuse me, Captain, but I brought an alien on board without your permission and the Doctor is treating him in Sickbay. Why you ask? Well I am afraid I bloodied the guy's nose in a lapse of judgment and knocked him unconscious.'"
"I'll go tell her now," I offered, more than willing to put distance between the man on the biobed and myself. Every time I looked over at him, images of memories flew to mind. The mess in Astrometrics, away missions, my father's lab a terrifying sense of familiarity was radiated on the features.
Tom sprang almost to the exit. "You shouldn't take the rap for this I'll go."
I almost laughed. "After the words, Um, Captain' she wouldn't give you the time of day before she starts hounding you for answers. At least I have the chance to explain you before she puts you in the brig."
Tom beamed his charming smile. "Even after Astrometrics?"
I nodded. She had said that she still trusted me it might be still to my advantage. "I'm going, Tom Paris, now step aside." He allowed me to pass, and before I went through the doors, mouthed a silent thank you.
I walked on the Bridge after the stomach lurching ride on the Turbolift. Some things would never change. Commander Chakotay looked up from the center of the room, waiting for me to explain myself. I looked on his face and immediately thought about the deep, aged lines that he had worn in my vision of the future. I hoped that he would find a better end. "Requesting permission to speak to Captain Janeway."
Without a thought he looked down. "The Captain is busy, Lieutenant. She asked not to be disturbed. It will have to wait."
I swallowed slowly. "It is an emergency, sir," I pleaded as silent as a whisper.
Twenty seconds later, I stared Janeway in the face. With a heavy sigh, she set aside whatever she had been working on and stretched her spine. "What is it, Lieutenant? Commander Chakotay mentioned an emergency?" she asked with weariness.
"There is an alien in Sickbay," I began bluntly.
Janeway looked at me in disbelief and raised her hand to her Comm badge. "Janeway to all hands- Intruder"
"No!" I yelled loudly. The Captain cut off in mid-sentence. "It isn't what you are thinking" I trailed my voice off.
"I mean carry on," she said to finish her message. "Splendid job. Janeway out." For a moment, I could feel the glare of her eyes as she processed the situation. Her forced breathing was enough to scare me as if she had breathed fire. "Mind explaining yourself," she said at last in a calm and relaxed tone.
I breathed a sigh of relief; for now, her rage was over. "I chaperoned Tom and Harry to a local bar." Janeway shook her head and smiled. "Is there something wrong?" I asked.
In endless amusement Janeway shook her head. "Tom, Harry, bar- those three words are never a good combination. So what happened?"
"Tom met someone at the bar"
"A woman?" Janeway interrupted suddenly.
"No," I continued cautiously. "He heard a man talking at the bar" I stopped for a moment, wondering where to go from here.
"What does this have anything to do with the alien in Sickbay?" she asked.
"I'm getting there," I complained gently.
Janeway nodded. "No more interruptions."
"Good," I replied, finally deciding on an explanation. "The man was speaking German, and Tom went to question him. But the man was drunk, and the two got into a brawl. They were kicked out of the joint, and Tom knocked the man unconscious. Instead of having the local authorities find him, we brought him to Voyager, and he is in Sickbay," I finished quickly.
Janeway's eyes flashed with instant understanding. "Janeway to Transporter Room 1, beam Lieutenant Anderson and myself directly to Sickbay."
When I re-materialized in Sickbay, Tom's eyes shifted around for the nearest airlock to escape to. "Lieutenant Paris," Janeway directed sharply, "what is the meaning of all of this?"
Tom met her gaze. "I apologize, Captain, that I did not ask permission to bring this man aboard, but the situation was urgent. I had no intention of knocking him out, but there was no other choice. This man has extremely internal knowledge of Voyager and her crew."
The expression on the Captain's face changed suddenly to concern. "How is that possible?"
The Doctor came over from behind her with a non-Starfleet-standard-issue triicorder. "That isn't the least of our scientific worries," he answered. He handed Janeway the Starfleet medical triicorder in his other hand. "Tell me what you see."
Janeway opened it up and stared at the display. Within a few seconds she began to wave the thing up and down all around the man. Perplexed, she waved the instrument at Kes and herself, then scanning the man one more time. "He isn't here," she stated. "But parts of him are- energy signatures and a pulse, but everything reads that if I put my hand out there, I would find nothing."
"Exactly," the Doctor congratulated. "I've tried eight different triicorders, not to mention the scanners in this room. According to everything, he isn't here."
Tom pulled out his triicorder, and I too glanced curiously at the display. Janeway was right- this man's energy readings were off the scale. Just by the readings, one would expect to be glancing at a living embodiment of a warp core, or maybe two. He had a pulse, and maybe something that could be considered blood pressure, but there were no indications of tissue, of matter, or of anything.
"Can you wake him?" Janeway asked the Doctor.
"I'm not sure that conventional stimulants will work, but I'll give it a try. Kes, give me a low dose of plythexamine. That should be enough to at least stir him."
Janeway nodded and pulled out her phasor. Tom and I followed suit.
"Is he dangerous?" Kes asked curiously.
The Captain shrugged. "It is only as a precautionary measure."
The Doctor leaned over and released the hypo spray in the man's neck. As I saw him stirring, that hazy sense of familiarity almost overtook me. I was almost positive that I knew this man from somewhere. The man came too and sat up. He groaned at the brightness of the lights around him. Finally he noticed his company.
"Ich muß halluzinieren I must be hallucinating," came the sleepy reply.
Janeway flinched just a little at the German. "I am Captain Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. You have been brought aboard my ship because of a bar brawl you seem to have had with my crew member."
"Nicht wieder, bitte Not again, please."
"Christy?" the Captain asked.
"He seems to be confused" I shrugged.
The man's hazy eyes snapped to sharp alertness at my name. "Christy?"
The Captain looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. "Do you know my crew member?"
The man stared back at her and then glanced around the room. "Sickbay" his voice trailed off. "Lassen Sie bitte dieses ein Traum sein Please let this be a dream."
Janeway put her phasor down, still quite aware that she didn't have an experienced security team behind her. "Sir, you are safe. I am Captain"
"Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager, Registry Number NCC-74656, fifteen decks, 139 crew complement, from the Alpha Quadrant, SF Headquarters in Washington D.C., Planet Earth," he interrupted.
"Who are you?" Janeway shot back, she didn't like to be threatened.
The man smiled. "Such an ambiguous question, Captain, but the question is- am I really here?"
The Captain furrowed her eyebrows. "I have no idea what you are talking about"
I stepped out from behind Tom. "You must be a member of the Briikortian," I stated.
The man's eyes widened as he saw me before him. He reached his hand out softly and touched my skin. "There is no way," he whispered.
I moved away, still watching him closely. "How do you know this ship and my language?"
The man made no gesture that even suggested he comprehended what I was saying. "How are you here? How can I be back so far in time? I thought you"
"Were dead?" I accused. "My friends and I did not die in your little trap, try to kill us as you may."
Confusion finally registered in his blue far-seeing eyes. "Trap? You mistake me for someone else. I am no Briikortian."
"Then who are you?" I asked angrily.
"I am a Guardian of Time, and I am unknown to your species, although you know me very well."
Kathryn Janeway had moved back to watch the scene from afar. I glanced over at her, trying to look just as calm, just as in control. "If I knew you, sir, then I would remember you."
He laughed. "You do not recognize the wearer of 1,000 faces? I have been with you throughout your life."
I gulped as his features suddenly changed into different people. A few I could pick out instantly- my history substitute from grade school, the bookstore owner from around the corner of my house, the shuttle driver who had driven me to Deep Space Nine and put me aboard Voyager. I could only gasp. "Who are you? How do you know me?" I whispered again.
"Did you not see?" he asked. "Did you not hear? I am your Guardian."
"angel?" Tom finished with a chuckle.
"I am the Guardian of her temporal existence."
Janeway scoffed. "You've been her before," she accused. "How?"
The blonde haired man nodded, but he couldn't have looked much older than nineteen. "Very perceptive, just like I remember."
"Answer the question, or you can spend your time here in the brig."
The man laughed. "I think not," came the words as he vanished in a bright flash of white, reappearing across the room.
"You're a Q?" The Captain's question was more, however, of an accusation.
"No," he answered with superiority, "I am a Guardian."
With this sudden act of disappearance, the memories of yesterday came back. White light, his voice, and those eyes- he was the intruder. "You were here yesterday. In Astrometrics, that intruder was you. I am sure of it."
He looked me in the eyes. "And I am here now ten years later, unbelievable," he muttered.
"Ten years later?" I questioned. "It was yesterday!"
"For you, but I am not affected by time. I have lived through your life already."
For the moment, his strange answer did not bother me. There were anxious questions that poured off of my tongue. "You've been so many people. Why?"
His blue eyes clouded. My question seemed to echo in his soul as if he was confronting something that he could barely discern, a turn of events that were out of his controls. It was the look of hurt that I instantly recognized. I had seen it in my own eyes after I had learned about my past. It was one that still haunted my features now and then when I looked in the mirror.
"You were the Chosen One. Why did you have to die?"
At the sight of the ominous tears in his eyes, I felt panic rising in my throat. "Chosen?"
"Time's Chosen, one of the special reactors in the universe"
The Captain was uncharacteristically silent, Tom and the Doctor as well. It would have been appreciated if any of them had volunteered to pitch in right now.
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Don't you get it? This is why you are here"
"I don't understand," I started, trying to make sense of the paradox that was before me. Why was everyone so bloody silent?
"Give me your hand"
Warily, I put down the phasor. With one man down Janeway picked up hers and moved protectively to my side. It was a power statement and a threat, rather than for my comfort. Without knowing why, I trustingly gave him my hand. My spirit felt like it had known him forever. My senses were apt to believe him despite how much my mind protested.
He lifted my palm up to the light. "Look at it," he said softly.
I stared at it, my mind beginning to win the battle. This guy, handsome though he was, wasn't all there. He seemed like one whose elevator didn't quite reach the top floor.' "What am I looking for?" I asked politely.
"You cannot see." The words were a statement, not a question. He let go of my hand and stood off the biobed. Janeway aimed her phasor. "Trust me," he said quietly. My body stood still, my feet unable to leave the ground. He raised his hand to my face and gently touched my eyes.
I pulled away in pain. His touch was like one of hot coals. My corneas were burning and my eyes were on fire. Unable to keep it bottled inside, I let out a scream. Tom and the Doctor pulled him away and I heard Janeway calling for backup. My mind was racing- I couldn't stop the burning sensation! My sight went blank. I grabbed onto a nearby console for support. "Stop it! Make it stop!" I screamed.
The Doctor came over with a triicorder. "You must remain still!"
I shuddered the pain. "I can't- it hurts too much!" Janeway moved forward to clutch my shoulders and hold me still.
"There is some enzyme compound in her blood her blood pressure is off the scale! Kes, get me two cc of enethrozyne." The Doctor began to prepare a hypo spray.
"Don't!" the words came from across the room. A bright flash of light in front of me brought him to my side. "Leave her alone- it will only make the pain worse. He tore me from Janeway's grasp and held me by the arms. Gently he shook me. "Open your eyes!" he yelled.
I writhed still with the pain. "It hurts too much! Make it stop!"
"Öffnen Sie Ihre Augen open your eyes!" His hands shook me some more. I thought he would break my arms.
"Let her go!" Tom screamed, trying to tackle the man.
"Stop it!" I yelled, moving away. I opened my eyes to stare at him, and the pain began to subside.
"Christy?" Tom asked, now right by my side. "Are you all right?"
I sucked in a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Tom draped a protective arm over my back. The man still remained in front of me, but now around him there was a white aura. "What did you do?" I growled breathlessly.
"Your heart was still receptive, so I opened your eyes. I have trained them to see what they could have seen all along," the man paused from his explanation. "Look at your hand."
He took one step towards me, but Janeway stepped in front of him, and Tom gently moved me two steps back. Cautiously, I raised my hand to the light; my eyes widened at what I saw glowing brightly inside the palm of my hand- a circular emblem circumscribed with foreign patterns and symbols.
"See," came the man's whisper, "you are marked."
I did not raise my head to look at him, but stared at the insignia more closely, trying to perceive any possible meaning.
"I don't see anything," Tom countered shortly.
"Not all will see, only those that have the ability can," the young Guardian answered.
I ignored all of them, in a daydream of my own. "There are words," I commented aloud, not really meant for anyone to hear.
The Guardian smiled. "Ah, yes. It is written in a language that is older than time itself, yet understood by all if they but only know how to listen. You know finally." With this he disappeared.
02:00 hours I walked into the deserted Mess Hall. So much seemed to be tumbling through me. Since Tre'kent had left, it had not been uncommon for me to be suffering from such relentless insomnia. Thoughts, feelings, and memories from the past flashed through me and kept me awake, and I made no attempt to stop it. They had been fought off for too long, and now I was weary. Just a month ago, the Doctor had cleared a few memory pathways, artificially blocked long ago because of underhanded events. He had promised that bits and pieces of these events would come at random intervals. The first time it had happened, the images and sounds had been too much to handle. I learned rapidly to block the flow, but with each attack the sensory overload grew greater.
I walked to the dark corner by the windows. My duty shift in Engineering began in four hours, but there was too much to sort out and understand in such little time. During such an event, Tre'kent would have been here, using his mind to comfort my own thoughts by sharing the load, but he was gone.
"Who's there?" a voice cried out.
From the corner, my newly dilated eyes could now discern a dark figure. "Harry?"
A sigh of relief rang through the air. "What are you doing up so late?" he asked.
I put on a wry face. "Couldn't sleep," I admitted sheepishly.
He nodded. "Me neither. I kept thinking about our new guest."
I looked up from the table, surprised. "Tom told you?"
"Yeah, and I don't like it," he answered reluctantly.
I was taken aback. "So now you are going to dictate who I talk and interact with?" I accused.
"No," he replied strongly. "I'm not saying that I am just worried."
Touched by his concern, I smiled nervously. "About what?"
Harry put his head in his hands, trying to shake something off. "About the future, I suppose," he met my gaze suddenly, "and about you, if we want to be technical."
"Why me?" I questioned hastily.
"You don't act like yourself much anymore."
His words brought down an uncomfortable silence, and a remembrance of my vision. This will be repeated if you do not learn isn't that what the voice had said? You have pushed away everyone. Your heart has forgotten how to love. I stared up at him, grateful for his honesty. "I can't find myself anymore," I, at last, confessed faintly. "Where do I even begin my search?"
But Harry didn't move; instead he continued to stare out the window. "See those stars?" Slightly startled, I nodded. "Notice how steady they are. Each one burns vibrantly and constantly, but eventually, one dies. Most of them are not alone rather they exist in clusters. As you should know, in clusters, the stars live longer and together cast more light in the space around them than even the brightest one could do alone. The law of nature is funny sometimes, isn't it? All things return to a state of equilibrium and better well-being- stars are naturally drawn together in clusters. And I say, that if you are ever lost, and cannot find your way, then following the old time-proven laws of the universe is the next best thing to do" my friend shrugged, dissipating the growing, but strange feeling I had had of an old, wise mentor. "So that's where you can begin to look with friends. We all are each other's strengths." Harry stood up. "When you are ready to talk about it, I'll be here and so will Tom Goodnight, Christy."
"Funny, isn't he?" a voice asked as the doors hissed shut behind Harry. I held my breath. "Yes, dear Chosen, I came back."
"What are you doing here??" I gasped in horror.
"To talk with you," he retorted presumptuously. I made no attempt to reply. How could I confide in someone so unfamiliar and yet claiming to be so omnipresent in my life? "Come on," he goaded, "there must be something within you that believes me."
I smiled despite of myself, feeling helplessly tormented. He wouldn't leave until he felt obligated to do so. And if he were my Guardian, then wouldn't he know everything about my life? A persistent question came to mind. "Why," I began slyly, "did you take me to Voyager?"
He did not appear to be ruffled in the least. "It was the only way to save you. Someone was waiting for you at Celsius Prime; surely you know that now."
I swallowed hard- he'd the right answer. I stared up at him dumbfounded. "What were you talking about in Sickbay? What is this mark on my hand?"
The man smiled. "Your race has barely begun to comprehend time. You live your lives and think it a straight line. You cannot imagine that there once were those who could control it and yield it."
I raised my eyebrows up in question. "The line or time?" I questioned mischievously.
For a moment, he ignored me, visibly irked. "If you want, I'll tell you the tale" His words trailed off until I nodded my consent. "They came before all else," he began, "supposedly the first in the universe. They were called the Ardumya, meaning the Old Ones.' Their planet is said to have been located upon the very center, the very point of the universe's creation."
"And where might that be?" I asked with amusement dancing in my eyes.
The Guardian smiled at the interruption. "The center?" He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. "Ah, it is a place that I have never fully seen with my eyes, but have visited and felt. There is no other place in the world where one can feel so at peace. It is a home to all of us Guardians. There is this feeling that takes over you, that possesses you so inexplicably" As his voice trailed off, I smiled. His explanation reminded me of the feeling of security and peace I had once felt on earth. The Guardian watched my expression guilelessly and continued, "Here the Ardumya came upon a paradox- that time controls but can be controlled. They expanded upon this paradox, learning how to control time and how to use it as the energy source it was. The old stories say the Ardumya could foresee the future. They knew that the universe ran on the concept of time, and they knew that this knowledge, if fallen into the wrong hands, would destroy the very fabric of control."
"If this tale is true," I interrupted, "and the Ardumya discovered this near the beginning of the universe, why haven't other races stumbled upon this paradox themselves?"
My Guardian looked up at me. "Patience, Christy- have patience and I will get there. And so, confronted with this peril, the Ardumya came up with a plan to forever shelter and protect their secret; they went from the beginning of time and chose special Guardians. These Guardians, rather than being created, were chosen of the universe itself. Most of what is known relates that the Guardians were taken at specific moments from their own lives, displaced from their proper timeline, and with wiping away all knowledge of their previous identity, the Ardumya gave them the power of time."
I furrowed my face in a look of deep thought. "You?" I asked hesitantly. "You were taken from your family?"
"Like I said, all memory is wiped. I don't remember where I came from, or who my parents were. While I learned to wear a thousand faces, this is the only one I have truly known. The earliest of my memories are being inside the Continuum of Time with this face."
"You don't remember a thing? Do you not ever miss it?" I interrupted with concern.
The Guardian shrugged. "What is there to remember? One cannot miss something that he does not know. I have known only one existence, and this is it. From my perspective, I have it made! I have an immortal life, and there is nothing which I lack nor want" Silence descended as his words trailed off.
"Your life," I continued to interrogate, "is immortal?"
The man nodded his head. "Time only has its power over life when the individual is woven in his place. Only then can time pick up the fabric and continue to weave. I am like a string that has been snipped, free to float through the air and over the cloth, not affected at all by the speedy spinning."
I digested his analogy for a moment, thousands of questions coming to mind. "But how is it that you move through time?"
"The Ardumya gave me the gift of Time, its magic and its energy. Like your Doctor noticed, I am not here. The real part of me has been given up to another realm. At any one moment in your life, I am not completely here. It is a shadow or a reflection that you see at best. This magic is in my blood. It affects my whole being," he answered patiently.
His strange answer had my curiosity piqued. "That is what you put into my blood, to make me see?"
The blue eyes staring at me clouded. "I have forgotten how clever you are. Yes it is the selfsame magic. I put a small amount of my own in your blood. I hope that your new sight will give you the understanding you need to change what is coming."
"How many Guardians are there?" I asked quickly, afraid that at any moment he might resume his tale, and eager, too, to change the subject.
He only chuckled at my grilling, and then grew serious as he weighed his answer. "In my long existence, I have only seen thirty-six. Perhaps there are fifty, even maybe a hundred. It wouldn't matter if there were only one. An immortal life is enough time for an eternal job." I stared at him in puzzlement. At length, he resumed his explanation. "We were put in charge of keeping the time continuum safe. As safe, time shall continue on forever, and so will our jobs, for the Ardumya also chose other beings to carry the mark of time. Through these people, the ever-continuing salvation of the universe would be worked. Instead of displacing the marked, the Chosen, from their lives, their places were left untouched, and the Ardumya gave them Time's power of change, love, and understanding. These gifts were extracted from all others, called Constants, in hopes of shielding the great mystery of time. The Constants are named such because their lives will never change. They respond to situations in well-predicted ways, and the only source of change in their lives is from the stimulus of the Chosen and the Guardians. So you can see, in a universe now bereft of these three gifts, the Chosen were particularly dangerous people- their existences and choices erratic and forever varying, and so each Guardian was given his own symbol to recognize in the mark of time. Every Chosen, therefore, bears the Mark of Time in the palm of their right hand, identical to that of their Guardian. The Guardian moves through time at his own will, following the next call of his Chosen. He or she guides them through their life like an invisible hand of power and good judgment, and at the end of their life extracts the gifts of Time. With these gifts, the life of the Chosen could be an ever-changing thread, and without guidance could be the very destruction of the salvation supposedly to be wrought through them."
My eyes clouded in fear. "I heard you say something before in Sickbay. You asked me why I died. If you had already lived through my life and extracted the gifts, what are you doing here now? Why is this thread changing?"
The Guardian stared at me with deep worry. "I am unsure"
"I told you that I had seen you in Astrometrics," I interrupted. "I heard a voice that day it I I mean, something told me that in death, the circle would be incomplete and I would have a chance to start over. Is this what that meant?"
"For that- I- I mean, there is no answer. You still possess all of the gifts, and I have no idea why. For reasons beyond myself, it seems that Time has granted you a second chance."
"Second chance?" I croaked.
He stood up and ranted. "Look at the odds, Christy! Bright heavens, look at the odds! I went to a bar today in a drunken stupor, emotional pain physically blocking me from continuing my job, my existence, any further. And it just happened to be in your life frame, at the exact same time you were there, and your friend just happened to be drawn to me! And you are alive you are alive and I can scarcely believe it" his voice rasped to a close, as tears constricted his throat. "Look at you," he continued. "You stand before me breathing and your heart still beats. Ah, your heart! I was able to open your eyes because your heart was still open! Barely, but still open! I had never dared to dream of seeing you again, like this, with still a chance left at life! You were the first charge I lost. I tried all that I could do, but it seemed as if life had turned its back on you, and you had turned your back on it. If only you knew"
"The future?" I whispered weakly. Understanding rang through my eyes. "Like I said, four days ago, I saw your presence in Astrometrics. I could be wrong, but I swear you gave me a vision of the future. It showed me much unhappier and troublesome times, and that voice—it told me to change."
"The Touch of the Guardian," he said softly. "You saw it? Aye, it was the future as it would be of this day."
"Can it be"
"changed?" he finished. "Ja, that it can. But it will be hard. You have already begun to shut down your heart, and when it has closed, there will be no turning back. The events you foresaw will come hailing down upon you faster than tomorrow."
In dejection, I wrinkled my nose. "It surely cannot be that bad."
"Oh but it can, and worse. I saw you take your life with my own two eyes"
"Excuse me?" I snapped sharply.
"I tried to stop you, but it was too late I had hoped that I could warm your heart again, but it was all in vain You took the phasor- it was set to kill You were the first I lost"
I felt like I was drowning. The air had been sucked from my lungs as if someone had punched me in the gut. I grasped the edges of the table, trying to catch my breath, feeling more dizzy and winded as the microseconds flew by. The phasor in my vision surely not. I could not ever be that desperate- there was always tomorrow to live for, wasn't that my philosophy? "How What Is there anything I can do to open to open my heart?"
"Your heart will open the more you use it, and the sooner you overcome your fear of being hurt. People are not all that bad, remember? There was a time when your young naïve heart would offer its trust to any stranger, and now you doubt even your friends' intentions."
For a few distracting moments, I gulped back tears of despair and hurt. How would I manage to ever regain my young heart or offer its trust to every stranger after so much betrayal? "I've forgotten," my voice started, "what it feels like to trust."
The Guardian came closer and took my hand. "Surely not. You are Chosen, Christy. The power of the gifts given to you is rooted within your own heart. You can see that when you have closed it, you have closed off your gifts from yourself, in a sense, and become a constant, pulled in a straight path to destruction with the inertia of your bitterness. What good is life if you have not the courage to gamble and take a chance? The odds never change," he stopped and took a breath. "I shouldn't do this. Normally, Guardians never have even this must personal contact with their charge, but this is a situation so rare that it warrants such a deviation. Are you willing to try something?"
I nodded without the slightest idea of what he had in mind. If I had to relearn to trust, it might as well be now.
"Close your eyes," he continued, "Find the center of your heart. Concentrate on someone whom you love so dearly, and follow wherever their picture leads you. See the flow of light before you- seize it within your grasp and imagine it in your hand" his voice withered into nothing, and I could barely even hear the sound of his breathing. I saw Tre'kent and followed him to a place of surprising calm and warmth. He had been right; there was light here, light so bright like the light of his aura. "Open your eyes." The words came so softly that I almost did not realize that they were spoken. When I looked at my hands, they were glowing, and in them was a ball of bright white light. "This is the magic. With practice, much practice, it can be wielded as anything, from a weapon to the light source you see before you."
"I feel so strangely exhilarated," I managed to explain softly.
The Guardian smiled. "Close your eyes again. Find your heart, but instead of moving, I want you to listen. Hear the sound of my voice, hear the sound of your breathing, and hear the sound of the ship. Listen carefully. Try not to think about what you are hearing, but sit still and just listen" Silence dragged on, and after moments I could hear laughter and joy. Conversations so blurred yet recognizable- voices, none distinct but all familiar. The sounds slowly filtered, and individuals became clear. "Who do you hear?" he whispered.
Instantly I smiled suddenly, filled with impish mirth. "Tom!" I exclaimed. "I hear Tom- why he's telling jokes on the bridge!" Caught by surprise, I tried to still my laughter; it was Tom's recent bad joke: a piece of rope walks into a bar each day for a week, and each time rejected. On the last day he comes in a disguise. The bartender walks over and asks him if he is that same piece of rope. The rope looks him in the eye and says, "No, I'm a frayed knot." But Tom's voice faded away and was replaced by a more serious and patient voice. "And I hear Harry! He's explaining something to the Junior Officer beside him."
Peter looked pleased. "Listen to the decks below this one. Can you hear anyone in particular?" asked Peter roguishly.
I sat very still and listened. Soon I could hear a voice barking orders, clears as day. She was yelling at Lieutenant Chapman check on the blocked Warp Plasma Injectors. "B'Elanna! She is giving orders in Engineering!" Suddenly the voices faded as soon as they had come, and I was left in exhaustion.
"You heard your friends," he mused. "It is no surprise, for they are those who share with you the strongest emotional ties. But as I said, it will take practice."
I looked up at him now as he finished those words, and perhaps it was a side affect of tapping into my long shut off heart, but I detected a great deal of bitterness behind his words. "Who do you hear when you listen?" I implored ingenuously.
He stared at me as if I had grown three horns. "The life of a Guardian is spent alone and in his duty. I suppose that maybe why the Ardumya picked us; we do not long for companionship."
"I find it a sad existence," I commented, "you live forever, yet everything around you ages and dies. You seemed quite pleased with your endless existence- you find neither disease, age, nor death within it. Yet perhaps a mortal existence is better. You realize the preciousness of everything around you. Even when you lose those you love, death brings a certain closure. We each have a certain task about us, but when it grows loathsome, we can take comfort in the knowledge that one day it will end. Far worse is yours, for when you do find someone you care about, even if you spend every waking moment by their side, they will die. Everything within your life will die. It is a fact of life and existence. All things come to an end. One could never find solace and release in such a subsistence." His bottomless blue eyes continued to stare at me. "What do they call you, Guardian?" I asked softly.
"I have gone by many names yet have none of my own," he answered simply. "Perhaps you should give me one?"
I kept silence for only a moment. "I shall call you Peter," I replied with resolution. "For he lived in Never Never Land and never wanted to grow up; so he remained a child."
"Peter?" he asked.
"Yes," I responded, "after Peter Pan. It was a tale that I fell in love with as a child."
He smiled. "Then Peter I shall be," came the jovial confirmation as he vanished from sight.
To be continued
