Chapter 10

Both Archer and T'Pol stepped inside of the apartment. Everything seemed perfectly normal. The asain man turned to Archer.

"Feel free to make yourself at home Jonathan."

Archer nodded.

"Thank you." He said as he took his seat.

The man looked to her.

"T'Pol come with me."

He led her down a hall into what appeared to be some sort of day care center. In the middle there was another man dressed in white sitting on the couch watching MTV. She also noticed that there were children of every alien race in every part of the room. In one corner she saw Bolian and Orion children finger painting. In another corner she saw Klingon and Romulan children playing chess. In another corner she saw Bajoran and Cardassian children levitating blocks with their minds, but no matter what they were doing all of the children were in a Zen calm and there was no conflict. All of the children played peacefully.

"These are the other potentials." The man said. "You can wait here."

She nodded as he made his exit. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a Deltan girl no older than eight years old holding a spoon in her hand. It looked like it had a life of it's on as moved. Sitting in front of the child was a pile of already bent spoons. T'Pol slowly walked up to the little girl and bent down to her level. The little bald girl smiled and handed her a spoon that was perfectly straight.

"Do not try to bend the spoon. That is impossible. Instead only try to realize the truth." The little girl said in tone that was wise beyond her years.

She raised an eyebrow at the child.

"What truth." T'Pol asked her.

The child continued to look into her eyes.

"That there is no spoon." The child said.

She nodded and just stared at the spoon in her hand at her own reflection.

"There is no spoon." T'Pol said.

"You will see that it is not the spoon that bends. It is only yourself." The little girl said.

T'Pol looked into the reflection of the spoon and then it started to bend. Just then a hand touched her shoulder making her jump a little. It was the asian man in white.

"The Prophet will see you now." He said.

The little girl smiled at her as she handed her back the spoon and got up. She was escorted to what looked like a kitchen. An elderly gentleman was huddled beside the oven as he peered inside a cracked door. She looked at the man for a moment.

"Hello?"

He raised a hand as he looked over his shoulder at her.

"I know lass. You're T'Pol. Be right with ya." He answered in his thick scottish accent.

"You're the Prophet?"

"Bingo. Not quite what you were expectin', right? I got to say I love seein' ya non-believers. Always entertainin'."

He took one last look into the oven as he took a deep whiff.

"Almost done. Smell good, don't they."

"Yes." She answered.

"I'd be askin' ya to sit down, but you're not gonna anyway. And don't worry yer pretty 'lil head about the cookie jar."

"What cookie jar?"

She quickly turned and her elbow knocked off a ceramic cookie jar from the table. It broke into several pieces on the linoleum floor.

"That cookie jar." The Prophet said.

"Oh shit, I'm very sorry." She felt embarrassed.

The old scotsman took out a tray of cookies and set them on the top the counter. He turned and she could see he was an older man wearing big oven mitts, a kilt, and a red button shirt. His hair was gray and he had a mustache. He looked like he could be someone's grandfather.

"I said don't worry 'bout it. I'll just get one o' me kids to fix it." He said with a warm smile.

"How did you know ...?"

He took off his oven mitts and set them on the counter.

"What's really goin' to bake yer noodle later is, would ya stil 'ave broken it if I 'adn't said anythin'?"

He poured a small glass of brandy and took a sip.

"Yer a lot prettier than I thought. I can see why he likes 'ya."

"Who?"

"Oh lordy, fer a vulcan, yer not too bright though."

He gave her a wink.

"So? What do ya think? Ya think yer The One darlin'?" He asked her.

"Honestly, I really don't know." She answered.

He pointed to a wooden plaque that hung above the kitchen door, it was in ancient latin.

"Ya know what that means? It's latin. Means 'Know Thyself'. I'm gonna let ya in on a little secret. Bein' The One is just like bein' in love. Nobody can tell ya yer in love. Ya just know it. Through and through. From balls to bones." He said.

He put his brandy down and walked towards her.

"Well I better have a look at ya."

He widened her eyes and checked her pointed ears and then he felt the glands in her neck.

"Open yer mouth and say 'ahhh'."

T'Pol did as she was told. And then old man took her palms in his hands and looked them over as he nodded.

"Okay, now I'm supposed to say, 'Hmmm, that's interestin' but ...' Then ya say..."

"But what?"

"But ya already know what I'm gonna tell ya."

"That I'm not The One."

"Sorry darlin'. Ya got the gift, but it looks like yer waitin' fer somethin'."

"What?"

"Yer next life, maybe. Who knows. That's how these things go."

T'Pol almost had to laugh.

"What's so funny?" The Prophet asked.

"Archer. He almost had me convinced."

"I know lass. Poor Archer. Without him we are lost. We will never find The One."

"What do you mean without him?

The Prophet took another swig of his brandy and looked at her with eyes of a sphnix as he continued to speak.

"Are ya sure ya wanna hear this?"

She nodded.

"Archer believes in ya, T'Pol and no one, not you or even me could convince 'im otherwise. He believes it so damned blindly that he's gonna sacrifice his life to save yours." The old man told her sadly.

"What?" T'Pol was concerned.

"Yer gonna have to make a final choice. In one hand you will have Archer's life. In the other hand you will have yer own. One of you is goin' to die. Which one, will be up to you."

She felt as if she couldn't breathe at the moment. His words were like a blow to her chest that knocked the wind out of her.

"I'm sorry darlin', I really am. Ya got a good soul and I hate givin' good people bad news. But don't worry, as soon as ya walk outside that door, you'll start feelin' better. You'll remember that ya don't believe in any of this fate crap. Yer in control of yer own life, remember?"

He took a cookie off the tray it was still warm as he handed it to her.

"Here, take a cookie, I promise by the time you're done eatin' it, you'll feel right as rain." He said with another warm smile.

She took the cookie from and slowly the tightness in her chest began to fade. She made her way back the room where Archer was waiting for her. He stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"There is a rule that no one can ask what The Prophet said to you. What was said is for you and you alone." Archer told her.

He smiled at her.

"I can see it in your eyes, that you are still confused. That's all right, T'Pol. Give it time, let it all sink in. I know it can be difficult to see the path even when it's right under your feet."

She nodded and took a bite of her cookie. They got into the SUV and Hoshi slapped it into gear as they pulled into traffic.

"Are you all right?" Tripp asked her.

He looked at him.

"Right as rain ..." She answered.

They reached the building where they first entered the matrix and Dawn was sitting there in a black suit dark shades reading what looked to be a Playgirl magazine with Smith on the cover giving a come hither look. She was looking at the centerfold which read:

To: Dawn

Love: Smith oxoxox

She really into looking at the pictures until the crew came through the door. Hoshi pulled the SUV into the garage as se nervously looked around. They made their way to an exit until T'Pol noticed something strange. She saw a small targ running down the hall and few moments later the same small targ ran in the same direction.

"I'm experiencing a strange sense of deja' vu." T'Pol.

Back in engineering, Wesley was looking at the screens and it didn't look good.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" Wesley cursed.

Back in the matrix, Tripp turned around, his jaw was clenched.

"What did you just say?" He asked.

"Nothing, I was just saying was having a little sense of deja' vu." T'Pol said.

"What happened? What did you see?" Tripp asked her.

"A small targ went past us and then I saw another that looked just like it." She told him.

"How much like it? Was it the same targ?"

"It might have been. I'm not sure."

Tripp looked quietly at Archer who listened quietly to the rasping breath of the old building.

"What is it?" T'Pol asked.

"Deja' vu is usually a glitch on this world. It happens when they change something." Tripp explained.

They listened as the sound of helicopter wings grew louder and louder.

Back in engineering Wesley was working frantically to get the crew out. And then he saw what had changed.

"It's a trap!" Wesley yelled.

Archer looked up the stairs.

"Come on!" He yelled.

Dawn's communicator went off, it was Wesley

"They cut the hardline! It's a trap! Get out!"

"Oh my god!"

She opened the curtains and they were all bricked up, they were trapped.

"You guys get out of her!" She told them. "I'll hold them off!"

"Dawn no!" Archer shouted.

"Just go!" She shouted.

The group left the room as she took out her phaser rifle and opened fire on Federation police officers

Back in engineering Wesley watched helplessly as she was shot to death and laying in pool of her own blood. He shook his head as he watched the carnage unfold.

"No, no, no, no! Dammit!" He said as he pounded the board.

And then Dawn flat lined she was now dead.

The crew was running for their lives and all Wesley could do was watch helplessly.