Chapter 51

The sun was beginning to rise in the east hills. It was a beautiful sight. Pritchard got to his feet slowly, still watching Beverly. He tested out his knee, which appeared now to be healed. He brushed the dust of his clothes, and began to button up his shirt. He glanced at Guinan. "Where am I, really Guinan? What's happening?"

"I know it's hard to believe, Pritchard, but I came back for you. The mission I was on before…the one I told you about, well it turns out that I need your help to complete it."

He picked up his hat, examining it for bullet holes and slapped it on top of his head, causing a cloud of dust to billow into Picard's face next to him. Picard coughed and waved his hand in front of his face distastefully. He glanced at Picard with a sly smile. "Sorry there, fella'." Pritchard took a hesitant step toward Beverly. "Yeah, but…that don't explain why my wife is here. And why she hasn't said a word to me yet." He studied Beverly's face and was clearly puzzled by her strange appearance and uniform.

Picard stepped between Pritchard and Beverly. "She is not your wife," said Picard, glaring at the man.

Pritchard stepped forward looking directly into Picard's face. "Well is she your wife?"

"No, she not my wife either," snapped Picard. "But that's not the point-"

"So what is the point?" demanded Pritchard. "Is this supposed to be one of Mr. Quentin's jokes? Are you supposed to be some uptight, bald version of me?"

"Oh come on, you're not fooling anyone. You have the same amount of hair as I do—you are just trying to hide it underneath that idiotic hat," snapped Picard.

Pritchard shot a look at Guinan. "Is he calling me an idiot?" He poked Picard in the chest twice with his index finger. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

Picard stared him down. "If the shoe fits…."

Pritchard's eyes narrowed. "Now look here, buddy," he said, dropping his hand to his empty holster. He looked down. "Where's my gun?" he spun around, immediately distracted by the absence of his revolver. His eyes searched the surrounding area. Spotting it, he limped quickly over and stooped down to grab his gun from the dirt.

"You see?" Picard said glancing at Beverly, and gesturing at Pritchard. "He's more concerned about his archaic weapon than he is you—I mean than he is about his wife," he corrected himself quickly. Beverly watched him with distracted amusement. He was jealous.

"John, this is Captain Picard. And he and Doctor Crusher here just saved your life. These are my friends," said Guinan, walking behind her friend. He turned to look at her in genuine confusion as he put his gun back into its holster. He looked over at Beverly again, obviously still struggling with the predicament he was finding himself in.

He limped back over to stand near Beverly. He looked from her to Picard and then back at Beverly. "Is Guinan right? You're not Cerys? Not…my wife?"

Beverly shook her head but gave him a kind smile. "No I'm not…my name is Beverly. Beverly Crusher," she said and held out her hand for him to shake. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Pritchard."

"Oh." He quickly took his hat off and brought it to his chest. He took her offered hand loosely and bent down to kiss it. Still holding her hand in his, he raised his gaze to meet hers. "Pleased to meet you too, ma'am," he said in an intimate way that caused her to blush.

Picard clenched his jaw, but tried to ignore his growing consternation. Not knowing what else to do, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked on with irritation.

Eventually, letting go of her hand, Pritchard put his hat back on still watching her. "I apologize, Miss Beverly…but you look so much like my wife. It doesn't quite seem real."

Beverly cleared her throat, glancing quickly at Picard who now looked beyond irritated. "Yes…I know. It's very strange for me—for us to see you as well. Obviously you look so similar to Jean-Luc…and I apparently look just like your wife—"

"Yes, it's all very fascinating," interjected Picard. "Now can we get on with the mission, please?"

Pritchard turned his back slightly to Picard. "Really, this fella has no manners, interrupting a lovely lady like you. So… if your last name is Crusher, then he's not your husband either," Pritchard said nodding his head back towards Picard, and sounding more than a little hopeful.

"Um…well no," said Beverly. "But…."

Pritchard straightened and fixed Picard with a smug smile.

Picard tilted his head toward Guinan, looking for some help before he gave into his instincts to knock this man out. Where was Orla's calming influence when he really needed it?

"John, you were right about me before. I'm from a different time and place; and so are my friends. There is a great evil threatening our universe," Guinan began to explain. "And I know it sounds crazy…but we think that if we were able to reunite you with your wife, then we might just prevail."

Pritchard turned back to look at Guinan seriously. "My wife…you mean you know where she is?"

Guinan nodded. "Yes."

His face registered shock and confusion. "I knew she was still alive. I knew she was…but how did you know?" He frowned. "And how long have you known where she was?"

Guinan shifted feet uncomfortably. "It's a long story, John."

A look of brief anger passed over his face and he shifted his gaze from person to person. "You're all strangers to me…and he looks just like me…except he's not me," Pritchard said nodding toward Picard. "Somethin's not right here. Why should I trust you? Why should I go with you?" He took a step back and put his hand on his gun.

Picard looked at Guinan. "I thought you said this would work? Why doesn't he trust you?"

"Because I haven't really ever told him the truth," she said quietly. "He deserves to know the truth."

Pritchard sniffed in, and copied Picard's posture by folding his arms in front of him. "Yeah…I think I do."

"My friends and I are from the future," said Guinan.

"Same as I read in the Time Machine?" Pritchard asked, eyes wide. Picard's eyebrows rose, clearly surprised that his counterpart could read at all.

Guinan paused. "Kind of…in the future we have machines that can travel great distances through the sky. The three of us live on this kind of vehicle, which we use to explore."

"Much like a hot air balloon, I would guess," said Pritchard knowingly.

"Not…much," answered Guinan.

"Are you…human beings?"

"Yes," said Beverly. "We are," she said quickly, glancing at Picard. "She's El-Aurian," she said looking at Guinan, then grimaced, afraid she'd said the wrong thing.

But Pritchard actually didn't look too surprised. "Always knew you weren't from Louisiana," he murmured.

"Louisiana," Picard exclaimed, laughing unexpectedly. "I should say not!"

Pritchard looked Picard up and down. "And you…you're supposed to be some kind of captain?"

Picard squared his shoulders. "Supposedly…yes," he answered indignantly.

"What regiment?" Pritchard asked suspiciously.

"In the future, where I'm from, we don't have regiments," Picard said testily. "I do have a ship," he said. "Or had one," he corrected himself, looking down at his boots, remembering their sorry predicament.

Pritchard brightened for some reason then. "So you're a Navy man," he said clapping Picard on the shoulder in a suddenly friendly gesture. "So we might have somethin' in common after all. I was a captain in the United States Army."

"Of course. I studied the American Civil War as a child. What a horrific conflict," Picard said. "I'm sure you fought very bravely," he allowed.

Pritchard looked at him skeptically, unsure if he had just been complimented or not and then turned back to Guinan. "So you were saying…?"

"Your wife, known to us as Orla, is a supernatural being."

Pritchard's mouth dropped open. "Super—what?"

"My people have always viewed her as a deity," said Guinan. "For hundreds of thousands of years, in fact. For as long as we have known she has had a rival, another supernatural being that thrives on violence and death. He gains his life force, if you could call it that, from controlling the minds and hearts of innocent people and forcing them to carry out sadistic games for his pleasure. We call him the Other."

"The other what?" Pritchard asked.

"No…just the Other."

"Oh."

"Basically, the Other has threatened life as we know it—"

"In the future," Pritchard clarified.

"Yes. And Orla, or as you know her, Cerys, needs our help to stop him."

"Even though she's some kind of goddess," said Pritchard.

"Yes, because he has grown in power almost beyond comprehension. The only thing that has a chance of defeating him is love."

"Love? How am I supposed to help with that?"

Picard dropped his hands to his sides in frustration. "Well, you love your wife don't you?"

Pritchard turned on him. "Of course I love my wife! But she left me here—alone after our boy died. And to think she's been out there all this time. Why isn't she here trying to bring me back herself?"

"She doesn't know we're here, John," Beverly said.

"Or maybe she don't care to know," he said in a hard voice. "She abandoned me here, you know. So maybe she don't love me after all."

"No," said Guinan. "She really does love you, John. And that's why we're here. If we reunite you with her, it could make the difference. It could stop the Other."

"Sounds like you don't know for sure," said Pritchard.

"You don't have to help us," said Beverly. "But we can't guarantee you that your world won't be enslaved just as ours stands to be if the Other continues to grow in power."

His eyes widened and he pointed at the ground. "He's coming here?"

Guinan sighed. "We can't say for sure what he will do. But he has no intention of stopping."

Pritchard waved his hat at a passing fly, as the sun continued its climb into the sky. He squinted at the three Enterprise crew members. Suddenly he broke into a smile. "Sure, I'll help you."