Chapter 7


Earth

Later that morning, Worf showed up on the hover bike and as he maneuvered into the survivors' camp Picard could see he was operating it more carefully than one would have expected from a Klingon. Several of the civilians gathered around murmuring. Any means of transportation besides feet were currently in demand, and he and Worf had become something of a curiosity to many of the civilians after they had killed the Malkatan.

"Is the engine weaker than you thought or are you going slowly on purpose?" Picard strolled forward. It was turning out to be a rather warm day and as the sun shone down on him he couldn't help but have an improved mood after talking with Beverly that morning.

Picard squinted in the sunlight as Worf slowed to a stop in front of him. His eyes fell on an orange-striped feline head that was sticking out of the top of Worf's backpack. Worf had several scratches on his face and didn't look very pleased. He stopped the bike next to Picard. "The animal attacked me…several times," he said darkly. "The faster I proceeded on the vehicle, the more violent she became," he said getting off the bike.

"She's no doubt been traumatized Worf," Picard sympathetically. The cat peeked out at him.

"Very well," said Worf starting to hand the backpack to Picard. "Since you believe you relate so well to cats you may take her."

Picard shrugged, but as he walked forward it hissed out at him. "No thank you," he said quickly, taking a step backward.

Worf glowered at him. "If you cannot care for a cat, how do you expect to be a parent?" he asked seriously.

Picard shook his head. "Nice try Worf, but I think I am safe in presuming that my child won't have razor sharp claws and teeth."

Worf frowned. "Yes, for a moment I forgot that Klingon and human young develop differently." He knelt down opening the backpack, and the cat scampered away without a second look back.

"Data will be disappointed if we lose his cat, Worf," said Picard staring after Spot. "But then again" he added slowly. "He doesn't actually have real feelings, does he?"

"No," agreed Worf.

Picard nodded curtly. "Well…we shall see if she returns then; because I have no intention of chasing that cat through the ruins of San Francisco." He glanced at Worf. "Let's get Geordi's engine out of this bike, and then we'll contact the runabout again."

"You were able to reach them this morning?" Worf asked.

Picard nodded. "Yes. They seem in good spirits. They're waiting for Commander-for Captain Riker's ship to meet up with them, at which point they can simply dock the runabout inside the Aldrin." He smiled to himself, glad that Beverly and the others would be safer once that happened.

"And then we intend to meet up with them, sir?"

Picard took a deep breath in and out and patted the side of the bike. "That's the idea. Come on," he said. "Let's get to it," he said taking hold of the bike.

"Hey, what are your plans with that bike?"

Picard and Worf turned to look behind them with surprised expressions. Picard's expression quickly turned to one of irritation. It was the young man who had challenged his authority one evening after the Malkatan attack.

"I said what are you doing with that bike? Why so secretive?"

Picard glared back at the man. He had no time or patience for this nonsense. "This bike happens to belong to a friend of mine," Picard said. "And my plans are none of your business." The fact was he wouldn't mind telling these people his plans once he had some real idea if the operation would even work. But until then, they were just getting in his way.

"What makes you the expert on everything?" the man questioned, raising his voice. He had just the kind of nasal tenor that Picard couldn't stand.

Worf pointed at the Captain. "This is Captain Picard. You would be wise to listen to him," he rumbled at the man.

"Captain who? It's Starfleet that got us into this mess with all of its military posturing. Well never even heard of you, but you're no one now," he said making sure he projected his words to all who listened. "You're just like the rest of us, Mister Picard. So stop trying to play the hero," snarled the man.

Worf stepped toward the much smaller man, but Picard but a restraining hand on his arm. "No Worf…he's right. My rank means nothing anymore," he said quietly. "Come along," he said resuming his walk toward the shuttle.

The man followed them. "I want to know what you're up to, Picard. Are you building some kind of bomb? Because we don't need to antagonize the Malkatans—"

Picard whirled around. "What is your name?" he demanded in his most commanding voice.

The man flinched. "William Stafford—"

"Well, Mister Stafford, let me go about my business without interference, and I assure you, that I will let everyone here know just what I am 'up to' soon enough."


The Aldrin

Patrick Obi waited outside Doctor Mayer's quarters. He had no idea why she had called him a few moments earlier. After a moment's more hesitation he reached out and tapped the door panel.

"Come in," called Mayer's voice through the intercom.

"Commander Obi," she greeted him as he walked in to her quarters. She remained seated in the dark, but her fine features were illuminated from the light streaming in from the window.

He stood still, suddenly wary. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"

She leaned forward. "Lights, fifty percent," she said and the lights were enhanced somewhat but it was still rather dark. She smiled up at him. On the table in front of her was a bottle of some amber colored liquid and two glasses. "Would you like a drink?" she asked him, offering another smile.

Patrick smiled back and sat down across from her slowly. "Sure," he agreed. "Thank you," he said noting the visible tremor in her hands as she poured him a glass and handed it to him. Clearly she had started drinking without him.

"Commander—may I call you Patrick?"

He laughed. "Of course," he said easily settling back into the chair.

"You have a beautiful smile," she observed.

His smile widened. "You've heard that one before," she said watching him as she took a sip of her drink.

He leaned back in the chair. "It's always nice to hear," he allowed. "Especially from such a beautiful woman." He smile faded. "So, what can I do for you?" he asked again.

She sat forward cradling her drink as she looked down into it. "I—I've been having these episodes, I guess you could call them. It's as though I'm here…but I'm not."

He took a sip from his drink before setting it down carefully. He leaned toward her. "Doctor—"

"I thought we were on a first name basis," she said quickly. She was a little tipsy—and she was also flirting with him he knew. But he still didn't know why, or what she wanted. She fixed him with her gaze. "Was I wrong?"

"Okay…Johanna. I'm sure that whatever you've experienced is a very natural response related to learning about the changed timeline. Others have experienced it."

Her eyes took on a faraway look. "It's so horrible. I keep seeing this fire…but it's as though I'm in it—inside a memory that never happened. And I know where it is. It was my brother's engineering laboratory. He was a good deal older than me. When I was just a teenager he and my mother died in a terrible accident. My father was never the same. He became violent, abusive…a drunk. It was as though he blamed me for their deaths. I became immersed in my robotics research. My only saving grace was when he would leave for months on deep space missions. We simply couldn't live together." She blinked and put the glass down shakily. "Meanwhile I followed in my brother's footsteps, Patrick. In fact I was better than he was. I could do things with robotics that the best Starfleet engineers hadn't even contemplated yet—engineers like my father. And he knew it," she added with a small bitter smile.

She picked up the glass again shakily and drained it. "One night…before he went on his final deep space mission he got so drunk he began throwing things. He warned me; he said if I didn't give up my 'hobby' as he called it, he would come back and burn my laboratory—he said 'I'll burn it all…and I don't care if you're in it!'"

She looked at Obi almost triumphantly. "But he never got the chance. You see, he never returned from that deep space mission."

Obi suddenly took her trembling hand in his. "My God, Johanna, your father was part of the Stargazer crew!"

She nodded and looked down at her hand in his, as if human affection was nearly alien to her. And now after hearing her story, he could understand why. Suddenly she gripped his hand passionately. "I keep thinking, Patrick…in the real timeline, if the Stargazer was never captured by the Malkatans-did he come back and burn my laboratory? Did he kill me just as he promised? And so you see why I don't want things to change. What if I don't even exist, Patrick?" Her eyes seemed to stare through him. If she was capable of crying she probably had forgotten how many years ago.

Obi walked around the coffee table and bent down putting his arm around her shoulders. "You can't be certain, Johanna. Maybe you're just having a horrible reaction to what the Captain told us. You have to be strong."

"I don't know if I can do that anymore, Patrick. I've been strong for so long," she said. She reached up and touched his face and he enfolded her in his arms.

"It will be alright," he said, unsure if that was really true.


Earth

"Goddammit," Picard roared from underneath the communications console. "I can't get a connection with the runabout Worf. I've got everything as it should be, but I can't get a signal." He pushed himself out from under the console, tired and frustrated.

Worf tossed a hyper spanner onto the deck, and straightened from his position inside the floor of the shuttlecraft. His bushy eyebrows knitted together. "I do not think we need LaForge's guidance after all, Captain. Between the two of us, we should be able to finish the installation by tomorrow morning."

"That's not what I meant." He was desperate to talk to Beverly again before he attempted to leave the planet. He needed to know that she and the baby were alright. Picard leaned against the console suddenly feeling dizzy. "Aaaa!"

"Captain!" Worf watched as Picard's lower half began to fade from existence. Within seconds, he was in solid form again, but seemed disoriented and was breathing hard.

"I'm—I'm alright," he assured Worf.

"Sir…how long has this been happening to you?"

Picard shook his head, seeming unsure. "Since before you and I reunited, Worf. I told Beverly about it…but…please don't mention it to her again. I don't want to worry her." Am I really here? He slowly opened his eyes and turned to Worf. "This must be what I went through before I disappeared that first time…it's happening to me again isn't it Worf? The timeline isn't right."

Worf looked concerned. "I do not know, Captain."

Picard took a drink of water and then walked over and dropped down into the hold next to Worf. "It's going to do me no good to dwell on it, Worf. If we work through the night, you are correct, we should be able to finish."

"Yes, Captain."