FOUR

Adam Cartwright stared down a long, dark, nearly vertical shaft. It was barely more than shoulder-width, though he suspected it widened as it cut into the mountainside that contained the mine. He'd seen this kind of exploratory shaft before. It had most likely been cut early-on in Bodie's development to allow preparatory access. Now it led to the medium-sized chamber where Joe was being held. In his initial trip to eighteen-seventy-six, Spock had discovered it and used it to reach Joe just as Theron's man ignited the charge to bring the mountain down on top of his brother. Sadly, Joe had been injured – struck in the head and not thinking clearly – and his reactions had been slow. His brother's ability to think had been hampered and his choices dictated by fear.

He could hear it in Spock's voice. The sense of failure, the guilt. The Vulcan's fingers had brushed Joe's. Then he'd lost him and Joe had...died. His brother had died suffocated in darkness and buried under a ton of rubble.

Alone.

Well, not this time.

Adam swung his legs up and into the shaft. Spock caught his arm before he could descend. "You have fifteen-point-five minutes in which to extricate your brother before the setting of the explosives is complete. You must both be in the shaft before they are detonated or you will be trapped within the mine. If Carter is there still, you will have to overcome him before you will be able to flee." Spock paused. "You remember Qo'noS?"

Adam nodded.

"That is Carter's home planet, despite the dissimilarity of facial features and coloring to the people you saw there. He is of a race that is reared to violence, whose actions are controlled only by their own questionable sense of honor. You must beware."

"What are you going to do?"

Spock glanced to the left. "I will endeavor to free the woman and to overcome the one who holds her. It is obvious she is someone of importance to your brother. My calculation would be that she is his wife."

Adam still could hardly believe it. Joe. Married. It had almost happened so many times in the past that he guessed he had assumed it would never actually happen.

As Adam caught the top of the shaft with his fingertips and began to lower himself into it, he glanced at Spock who was now nothing more than a single lean shadow within the greater bulk of shadows cast by the mountain.

Then he began to slide.

Ben Cartwright sat in the darkness of the great room after the two strangers departed, feeling completely useless and out of control – for about fifteen minutes. Then he sprang to his feet and, damning old age and infirmity to Hell, put on his gun belt, wrapped a coat around his diminished frame and placed his hat on his head before aiming straight as an arrow shot from the bow toward the stable. Once inside he crossed to Buck and patted him on the nose, telling him he was sorry to be taking one of the younger horses, but what he needed tonight was not certainty and experience as much as raw, reckless energy.

Kirk and McCoy already had a half-hour's head start.

Moving farther into the stable he watched a pair of young freshly broken horses stamp and snort and toss their manes, ready for action. He chose a beautiful high-spirited Appaloosa he'd watched run like the wind only a few days before. Of course, Joseph had his eye on him. After all, his youngest son and the animal had a lot in common. Anne had watched with both admiration and fear as her husband worked to break the animal, barely managing to keep his seat.

It was only fit that this would be the one to bear his son home.

Saddling the horse took longer than Ben would have liked. By the time he left the barn nearly an hour had passed. As he walked the Appaloosa out, ready to depart, he saw that it was going to take even longer. The white-haired man drew in a breath and held it. He really didn't have the energy for a fight.

Hop Sing was waving his arms and running toward him.

"Mister Ben! Mister Ben! Do not go, Mister Ben!"

Ben checked his ride. "Hop Sing, I'm not in the mood to argue –"

"Hop Sing no want to argue. Hop Sing wish go with you!"

He shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, Hop Sing." And he really did. But he needed to fly like the wind and, while his longtime friend was a fair rider, there was no way the Chinese man could keep up. "But I need to be on my way now." He turned and looked in the direction the two men had gone. "I may already be too late."

"Hop Sing come. Bring wagon. Maybe need for Little Joe or for Mrs. Joe."

Ben almost missed it. Then he snapped to attention. "Mrs. Joe?"

A soft worried woman's voice spoke from out of the dark. "Anne's gone too, Ben," Carrie Pickett said as she stepped off the porch. "I think that child got a notion in her head to go after Joe."

"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. "What was Anne thinking?"

The older woman's smile was sad. "Only about the man she loves."

Ben considered their options and then nodded. "Hop Sing, have Carrie help you pack the wagon with blankets, medicals supplies, and some food and water. Follow me when you can. I am going to track those two strangers and I have no idea where the trail will lead me."

Hop Sing caught hold of the Appaloosa's reins. "You be careful Mister Ben. No want find you in need of wagon too."

He nodded. "Thank you, Hop Sing." Ben looked at Anne's mother. "Carrie?" he called.

"Yes?"

"Help Hop Sing. And try not to worry. I'll bring the children home."

She raised a hand. "I'm right sure you will, Ben."

He started to move and then halted and turned back. "One more thing."

Carrie came to stand beside Hop Sing, her pale eyes determined and afraid. "What is it?"

Ben's eyes misted.

"Pray."

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Spock remained where he was and watched Adam Cartwright descend into the darkness like Earth's mythic Hermes in pursuit of Persephone. He'd had little time to spare to consider the possible ramifications of the introduction of this random element into the equation. Things were happening too quickly and they were unfolding in a slightly parallel line to what had happened before. The first time he had walked this path Carter had returned to the surface to reconnoiter with Theron, leaving Joseph Cartwright alone. The fact that the man from Klingon Intelligence had not this time suggested either a betrayal of Theron on Carter's part, or a successful attempt by their victim to overcome his captors. In either scenario, both Adam and Joseph Cartwright should be able to make their way to the surface unimpeded unless someone else intervened.

Therefore, the most expedient thing he could do was to make certain Curran Theron was removed from the equation.

From what he had been able to learn, Curran Theron was an Originator – one of the race that had built the Guardian of Forever and created the gateway to time that it was. The Originators were sworn to non-interference. The Guardian was meant to be a tool with which man would observe and record history, not seek to alter it. As a youth Theron had been one of the best and brightest of his people, but he had grown discontent with their guiding principle. He saw non-interference as weakness. Curran Theron believed that the Guardian should be employed to meddle. He believed that, instead of bringing order and peace to the galaxy, its – and his – purpose was to open a door to chaos and disorder.

Since he, Doctor McCoy, and Jim Kirk had passed through the Guardian into time before, their past and present were clearly written there in three intersecting lines. The rogue Originator had stumbled across these lines. Studying them, he had come to a conclusion. There was a man within them whose life could be altered, turning him from an agent of law and order to one of chaos and disorder, thereby changing history.

James T. Kirk

Spock blew out the breath he didn't know he held.

He had seen some of these images himself. He'd watched as Jim's ancestors came to America as explorers, and how they had opened up the young country's western region, leaving paths behind them for others to follow. There were so many lives, so many bold choices, all leading to one man – one man in whom all of these characteristics would find ultimate completion. A man of determination and drive who feared nothing, who at times appeared reckless, but was in reality preternaturally certain that no matter what he did that it would come out right. A man of checks and balances, one whose anger was tempered by compassion; whose high sense of justice was married with a sense of honor that would not suffer wrong. A man, Spock thought, whose gut feelings outstripped logic.

Joseph Francis Cartwright. Benjamin Cartwright's youngest son.

There had been good men before, and there would be others after him in the captain's lineage. But Adam's young brother was the fixed point upon which the man who would be James T. Kirk hung.

And Theron had determined to destroy him.

The Originators had created the time manipulators for their own purpose and pleasure. They were mobile devices attuned to the Guardian's thoughts, that employed the Guardian's power. Never interfering, they used them to move through time, observing and watching as nascent races rose and fell, lives were lived and ended, and worlds were born and died.

In time the Originators grew cold and indifferent, as unfeeling as the waves of time they rode. It was at this time in their history that Curran Theron was born. As he grew, Theron determined he would be nothing like those who had gone before him. He would use the power of the Guardian to interfere, to change time and make the galaxy into a place that fit with his own twisted sense of right and wrong.

Curran Theron was quite mad.

And in that madness he had fixated on Joseph Cartwright. The Originator had studied the rancher, gleaning from the eddies and waves of time shown to him by the Guardian that Joseph and his son were all he needed. Theron determined the time when the rancher's son would be conceived and then traveled back to eighteen-seventy-six - before the boy was born - with the intention of killing Joseph, so he could father no other sons. He would then take Anne, his wife, and their child away with him. He meant to rear the boy and make him into the father of disorder. James T. Kirk as he was known would not be there to stop Gary Mitchell from reaching out and destroying universes, or to call out the godlike boy Trelane and stop his devastating childish pranks. Charlie X would be free to vent his anger on the universe as well and Captain Kirk - Jim Kirk whose intuitive leaps had saved the lives of thousands - would not be there to stop the Horta's children from being hunted to extinction, prompting their peaceful mothers to start an intergalactis war that would devastate worlds.

Instead, Joe's seed would develop into one of the most destructive forces in all of time and space.

James Tiberius Kirk with no conscience.

Spock stirred. Time was passing. He had lost one point-nine-minutes to idle speculation. He had noted of late that his thoughts were slightly disjointed. His calculations and logic slowed. The Vulcan knew it was the influence of the venom that had been introduced into his system three times now as he used the manipulator.

After the next two times he would join Curran Theron.

He would go mad.

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It had taken everything in Ben not to push the thoroughbred to a gallop. He knew the animal would grow exhausted quickly if he did. Instead he moved forward at a steady trot.

Still, it was nearly impossible to ignore the fear deep inside that drove him.

The two strangers had headed southeast. The trail would take him into California soon, and into a low mountain range. He knew the area. It was dotted with mines, most of which were barely able to sustain their existence. Ben tried to remember which might still be operating. He could only recall one. Ten years after Sutter's Mill a group of four prospectors had made a rich strike in those hills. The mine was named after W. S. Bodey, one of the four, for the absurd reason that Bodey had perished that winter in a blizzard and never made it back. A sign painter had misspelled the man's name and it had stuck, and soon the town of Bodie – and the mine of the same name – became reality.

Bodie called to him. He was sure it was there he would find his son.

Gently nudging his mount to put out a little more speed, Ben moved quickly forward. The road he was traveling was two-pronged. One path started near the Ponderosa and the other just outside of Virginia City. They ran in a parallel fashion for some time and then converged and crossed over into California at its southernmost border. He was nearly there now. If he calculated right, riding at full tilt through the night, with a change of horse, he should arrive at the mine early the next day. Hop Sing would be following close behind with the supplies. He could only pray the Chinese man would find his way.

He had a feeling they would be needing those supplies.

Just as he reached the place where the two paths came together like the rods of a witching stick, Ben heard the pounding of horses' hooves. He halted and listened. It was a party of at least a half-dozen by the sound of it. With no cover to take, Ben drew his gun and a breath and waited as the strike of hooves grew louder and the riders appeared .

When he saw who was at the head of the party, he let the breath out in a relieved sigh.

"Ben! What in Sam Hill are you doing out here?" Roy Coffee inquired as he drew alongside him and reined his mount in. "Why ain't you at the Ponderosa?"

"I'm looking for Joe. I'm afraid –"

"Now, if that don't beat all. That's just what we're up to. Ain't it, Montgomery?"

As Roy spoke, he turned to look at the stranger who had come up alongside the lawman. The newcomer was of moderate build, with dark hair and intense eyes – and wearing a kilt! Beside him was another man, dressed much the same as Hop Sing, and behind that man there was a beautiful negro woman attired as an actress or maybe a dance hall girl.

"Mister Cartwright," the man said, revealing himself by both tongue and dress to be a Scot, "you dinnae know me and hae no reason to trust me, but believe me when I tell you we're here to help find your son."

When Roy saw the look on his face, he chuckled. "I didn't quite know what to think of Montgomery either, Ben, but I can tell you this. If a man holding his liquor is any sign of character, he's got it in spades!"

"Mister Cartwright. My name is Nyota Uhura," the beautiful woman said as she nudged her horse forward. "My friends and I... From what we have been able to determine from hearsay and rumor in the town, a band of men have taken your son into California. We have a friend who is missing as well, sir. We think he might be with Joseph. If you will have us, we would like to join with you and offer our help."

Ben met and held Nyota's dark eyes. He read no deception in them, only concern and resolve.

The decision took less five heartbeats. Ben nodded. He turned then to Roy. "I believe they took Joe to the Bodie Mine."

Roy looked skeptical. "You got a reason for thinkin' that, Ben?"

He hesitated. A slight smile quirked his lips. "No."

Roy pulled at his chin. "But you're sure anyhow?"

He nodded.

The Asian man beside Nyota looked at her and grinned. "He sounds like Captain Kirk, doesn't he?"

Ben stiffened. "Jim Kirk?"

Montgomery Scott answered for them all. "Aye, sir. James T. Kirk. He's one of the men whot we're lookin' for."

There was something here, something...

Perhaps an answer to prayer.

"He's the man I'm following," Ben replied. "Kirk, and Doctor McCoy."

A slow smile spread across the Scot's face. "Well, why didn't ye say so before? What are we waitin' for then?"

"Nothin' I know of," Roy said. "Ben?"

Looking from one to the other, Ben knew he had four sure souls at his side.

Now, if they were only in time.

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It was like going back into the womb. Adam finished his descent down the shaft and into the mine with a short drop and a tumble to the floor. He righted himself and then stepped back and pressed up against the clammy cavern wall, anchoring himself so he could find balance in the complete and total darkness.

Only it wasn't complete.

The black-haired man realized there was an unnatural pallid glow off to his left, some one hundred feet or more away. In spite of his need for haste, he waited until his eyes adjusted before moving. It was going to be difficult enough to navigate the mine's floor without making a false step or sound and he knew he could do it better if he could at least pretend to himself that he could see. Spock had warned him Carter might still be down here. He was hoping the Vulcan was wrong. Maybe the light was something left with Joe, like a lantern.

But no, that would indicate that there was some small shred of compassion in the black souls of his brother's kidnappers and he knew better.

Half-crouching, half-walking, Adam approached the area with the light. He halted behind a large stalagmite and used it for cover. Even with the light it was hard to see, but there were two men – one standing, holding a gun, and the other on the ground. As the man with the gun shifted and stepped back into the range of the light, a smile broke across Adam's face. He couldn't see his face, but he could see the bright green jacket he wore and the gray pants.

Joe must have turned the tables on Carter and had the upper-hand.

Relieved, Adam rose and stepped in front of the pillar of rock. "Joe! Joe, thank God! I was afraid you were..."

Adam's voice trailed off as the man pivoted to face him and a slow sneer twisted his tightly compressed lips.

It wasn't Joe.

Something woke him. A voice? Yeah, that was it. Big brother'd called his name. He must have overslept again and Adam was hopping mad that he wasn't up and doing his chores. Joe shifted and frowned both at the pain he felt and at the cold hard surface he was laying on. What'd he done? Fallen asleep in the barn after a fight? Or maybe he'd had one of those nightmares, the kind where he'd roll out of bed and wake up on the floor. It took a lot to pry his eyes open, but he managed it. When he did, he realized his second thought had been right.

It was a nightmare.

Vance's cohort, Carter, was standing over him. He was wearing his green jacket, which confused him. Had he put it on because of the cold? Carter was holding a gun and pointing it at...who? Joe squinted and frowned. He couldn't make the other man out. Whoever it was had dark hair and was dressed all in black. The man and Carter were arguing. Joe tried to listen to what they were saying, but the pounding in his head drowned most all of it out. All he managed to catch was a word here and there.

...Cartwright

...die here

...No

...my brother

Did Carter have a brother?

He did.

No, he had. Both of them were dead.

Worse than the pain in his head and chest, that realization made Joe moan.

A swift kick in the side silenced him.

The newcomer shouted and his angry words reverberated through the chamber, bouncing from one wall to the other and along the corridor leading to a surface world that was now lost to him. In response came more words – not from Carter or the man he held the gun on – but from that world above.

"Carter! Five minutes... ...detonation! Get...here!"

"I know. Watch...one while...finish."

Joe forced his eyes open again and looked up. Carter's attention was focused on the stranger and not on him. He didn't have a clue who the other man was, but if the bastard who had taken him and whose companions were holding his wife hostage was his enemy, then that meant they were friends.

And friends looked out for one another.

Adam remained riveted to the spot, his thoughts flying fast and furious. Carter and his gun stood between him and Joe. He knew this scenario was different from the one Spock had described, where the Vulcan had been the one who crawled down the shaft to rescue his brother. But that didn't mean that it might not end up the same way, with both of them trapped by a rock slide, only this time it would be the skeletons of both he and Joe the man from the future would find with the Originator's bracelets on their wrist.

At that thought, Adam's hazel eyes flicked to Joe. He let out a small hopeful sigh. His brother's hands were tied in front of him. There was no bracelet on Joe's wrist.

Yet.

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In spite of the pain pounding through him, which signaled infection and made him want to cry out, Joe managed to keep his eyes closed and remain still – even when he heard another man join them. Whoever it was, was shouting, screaming at Carter that it was time to 'Get out!' The sneering man must have listened. All of a sudden he felt someone loose the ropes binding his hands. Seconds later they took hold of one of his chafed wrists.

Joe opened his eyes a slit. It was Brewer, not Deets who stood nearby.

"What are you doin?" he demanded.

"Putting the manipulator on Cartwright here," Carter growled as he snapped the bracelet open. "It's in the contract. Kahless alone knows why."

"Hurry it up." Brewer was nervous, and why shouldn't he be? If the explosive detonated it would bring the whole mountain down on all of them.

Joe looked once again at the stranger Brewer held at gunpoint. Whoever it was, his black-swathed body was tense. He looked like a stallion ready to make a break for freedom.

The curly-headed man drew in a breath. It really didn't matter who the man was. In any case, the enemy of an enemy is a friend.

Without letting the breath out, Joe bunched his legs up and kicked out, taking Carter in the chest and driving him back into the nearby cavern wall where he struck his head on an outcropping and fell motionless to the ground.

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Good old Joe!

Adam had seen his brother moving and knew what to expect. They'd done the same thing many times before, not only to escape danger but to toss their brother Hoss laughing to the ground. Even as a twinge of regret stabbed him, thinking of the brother he could not save, Adam lunged forward to save the one he still had. The man who had come to warn Carter had turned toward the commotion, so the gun was aimed away from him now. Adam struck the Klingon's arm and drove the weapon out of his hand and then crashed with him to the ground. Brewer's strength was amazing. He was twice as strong as Hoss. While he struggled with Brewer, Adam glanced at the man Joe had taken out. Carter had regained consciousness. He was rising, reaching for the abandoned gun.

It would only take him a second to shoot Joe. He had to do something.

As panic seized him Adam's eyes landed on the lantern. If it was extinguished the playing field would be leveled. No one could see and no one would have an advantage. Maneuvering Carter's companion into position, Adam struck out with his foot and drove him into it. The lamp turned over, rolled –

And went out.

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In complete darkness Joe listened the to the scuffle. There was an 'oof' and then someone hit the ground. Seconds later someone else began to run, up the passageway, up toward the surface and safety even as a voice called again that it was time to get out – that the charge would go off any minute.

Joe's hands were unbound now and so he used them to right himself, and then worked his way to his feet using the wall as a prop. The cavern was absolutely black. 'Stygian', Adam would have called it, using one of those fancy words he got from the books he loved so. Joe could hear a man breathing hard. Assuming it was the one in black rather than Brewer who'd probably fled like the coward he was, he followed the sound and stumbled toward him.

It surprised him when halfway there the man caught him in a bear hug.

"Joe," he breathed, his voice breaking with emotion. "Joe." Then, a second later. "We have to get out of here. The mine's about to blow."

The man caught him then about the waist and directed him away from the path Brewer had taken. Joe's feet skidded on the mud-covered floor.

"Where...where are...you going? The way...out is –"

"There's another way, Joe. A shorter route to the surface."

He put on the brakes. Though his strength was ebbing, he managed to pull away. "Whoa... Why...should I trust you?"

There was a silence, so profound it made the darkness deeper, thicker, more suffocating.

"Joe," the man said, breath in the words, "it's me. Adam. Your brother."