Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Chapter 9 Breakfast Time Talk

The Chief Engineer and Chief of Security were deep in conversation, oblivious to the activity around them as the crew got their breakfasts.

"If I'd known who he was, I would have talked to him. He could have told me about photon torpedoes, perhaps even forcefield technology," said Malcolm wistfully, gazing into nothingness. "I wonder what else he knew about?"

Trip attacked his eggs with his fork, shaking his head. "But that isn't right is it? Who knows what would happen if you were just handed the information, and at the wrong time?"

Malcolm pursed his lips, unconvinced. He looked at Trip. "What makes it the wrong time? We wouldn't know any different. I suppose Smith might find he doesn't exist any more," and, thought Malcolm, a good thing too.

He didn't say the last bit out loud, but didn't need to. Trip understood all too well and was exasperated by his friend's attitude. He had tried to get Malcolm to take a more cordial approach to Simit, with limited success. It was his own fault that he had missed out on any intriguing morsels that their visitor might have let drop.

Trip cajoled, "Come on. He wasn't that bad. He was a nice guy." Twisting the knife, he added with an emphatic prod in Malcolm's direction with his fork, "As you would've found out if you had spoken to him instead of carrying out surveillance on him."

Malcolm thoughtfully chewed a piece of toast and marmalade. "Huh. I can't say that I agree with your assessment. He struck me as being a smarmy, shifty so and so. To think that idiot is in charge of presenting me to posterity! He was hardly some intellectual giant." He gave a grunt. "Are you sure he didn't say anything to you or anyone else?"

"Quite sure. But then, he didn't have the in-depth knowledge of other fields. Only your own."

"Umm. You know, you might feel differently about our little friend if he wanted to generate a psychological profile of you." Malcolm shuddered. He still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to O'Donnell to find out exactly what he had said to Smith about him.

Trip said, "From what I've heard, he didn't try for a character study. He can't have gone... uhh, will go... that far wrong basing his work on the technical aspects alone."

"Yes. Well, whatever. I'm going to make sure no one in the future gets hold of anything personal about me." Malcolm's tone was decidedly defiant.

"But won't that change the timeline?" Trip asked.

"That doesn't matter to me, does it? To any of us? Anyway, perhaps that's what I did? We don't know, do we?" Malcolm shot a self-satisfied smirk at Trip with this gem, confident the Commander wouldn't be able to dispute the logic. In the ensuing silence, Malcolm's grin spread into a broad smile as he returned with renewed enthusiasm to his breakfast.

Trip gave Malcolm a sly look. Then, concentrating on his eggs, he said with deliberation, "You know, if you don't leave any details about yourself, the future historians will be forced to send someone back to find out in person, direct from the source... from you. More than one researcher, probably."

Malcolm spluttered as a piece of toast lodged in his throat. He took a gulp of orange juice to wash it down.

Finding his voice again, Malcolm insisted, "No. No... They wouldn't do that. They aren't supposed to make contact. It's against their regulations." He gave Trip what was meant to be a self-assured grin but his smile froze as he suddenly doubted. Was Trip right? But Westerlake had been very definite about its impropriety, hadn't he, after all...?

Trip gazed at Malcolm levelly. Keeping an impassive face, he replied, "Maybe not in straightforward cases, but for a difficult subject like you... they'd make an exception. And you know what? You'd never know who it is." Trip pointedly swung his eyes around the room, resting briefly on each person.

"I'm not important enough," protested Malcolm weakly, most alarmed indeed at this idea. His gaze darted over the others in the mess hall.

"Oh, you are. Don't be modest. The father of the Reed alert!" Trip was enjoying himself hugely. He gave a broad grin at Malcolm's discomfort.

Malcolm scowled back, unable to come up with a suitable reply.

"See ya!" said Trip as he stood up, breakfast done.

And on that cheery note, Trip departed for Engineering, leaving Malcolm with his head spinning.

T'Pol had explained that the Vulcan Science Directorate had determined time travel was impossible. Malcolm was beginning to wish he could agree with them - it would make life a whole lot simpler. He could see he was going to have a headache for the next few days while he figured this one out.

END

A/N: Did anyone figure it out? There were a few clues scattered along the way, but of the type that are only noticeable with hindsight, I think.

Now you've read it, what do you think? Were there parts I should have left out or put in, was the pacing okay, which aspects were worked and which could be improved?

I hope it was entertaining at any rate. I enjoyed writing it.