by Dayton Ward
“Commander,” he said. “Our scans show you came through the shift largely unscathed.”
Sarith replied, “Thanks to you, Captain. I must confess that I am somewhat at a loss for words. In my reality, such cooperation and assistance is . . . unprecedented.”
As though sympathizing with her uncertainty, Riker nodded. “Well, if you ever have the opportunity to repay the favor, I won’t turn you down. Since that’ll probably never happen, I hope you’ll save that marker for some other occasion where it might be useful.”
Though the human’s use of odd language confused her, Sarith was sure she comprehended his larger meaning. “I will . . . remember that, Captain. Thank you.”
“Commander,” said Variel from where she still worked with Darjil at the sensor station. “We are detecting renewed quantum fluctuations.”
“The Sidrac are making the calculations for another shift,” said Riker. “That’s our cue.” He raised a hand and touched the edges of his fingers to his forehead in what Sarith recognized as an informal gesture of respect. “Safe journey home, Commander.”
“And to you, Captain.” To her surprise, Sarith heard and felt the conviction in her words.
Riker’s image vanished from the viewscreen to show a fresh image of the planet. Already she was seeing it beginning to flicker as the unreal forces of the dimensional shift seized it once more. Within moments, the world faded from sight, leaving behind nothing but void.
“The probe, Commander,” said Ineti. “We can retrieve it and take it back with us. Even that technology would be a prize for the praetor and keep research scientists occupied for quite some time.”
Instead of replying, Sarith tapped a control and the viewscreen image changed to show the Sidrac’s targeting beacon, drifting alone within the nebula. Moments later, the device erupted in a brief, brilliant white light that dissolved into an expanding cloud of debris.
“What?” Ineti stared with open shock at the screen before turning to Sarith. “You knew this would happen?”
She nodded. “Captain Picard told me. The Sidrac are pulling back the tethers anchoring them to these other dimensions.”
Centurion Skerius said, “Commander, prior to the explosion, there was a surge in the beacon’s communication stream. The Sidrac must have sent some form of self-destruct command.”
“That’s correct,” replied Sarith. “They will not be back, and neither do they wish us to follow.”
Though unhappy with this revelation, Ineti said nothing. Instead, his eyes narrowed. His expression became almost serene, and he nodded in apparent understanding.
“So shall it be.” The subcommander looked around the bridge, his eyes as always scrutinizing everything taking place around him. “What are your orders, Commander?”
The tension and fatigue of the past days were already beginning to close in around her, emboldened by the relief Sarith felt upon having returned her ship and crew to their proper place in the cosmos. That she had done so with assistance from those her leaders might call enemy was immaterial. There would be time later to discuss and dissect her actions, but for now she did not care.
“Let us go home, my friend.”
ELSEWHERE
U.S.S. Enterprise-D
Now things were getting interesting.
“Shields are down to thirty-four percent!” shouted Tasha Yar over the latest in a string of alarm sirens howling across the bridge.
His fingers digging into the arms of his command chair, Riker pressed himself against the seatback, trying to anchor himself as the ship trembled around him. The second dimensional shift had been rougher than the first, with the Enterprise-E’s absence keenly felt as his own ship was forced to carry the load of protecting itself and augment the Sidrac reactor to provide power for the quantum-field generator. His vision was only just clearing from the effects of the shift, and the buzz in his ears lingered to the point that he almost felt the need to shout in order to be heard.
“Where are we?” he asked, feeling the turbulence from the transition subsiding and the ship settling down as artificial gravity and inertial damping systems reasserted themselves. “Did we make it?”
Sitting in his customary place to Riker’s right, Data was poring over the information streaming across the compact display next to his own chair. “Scans of the Sidrac targeting buoy’s quantum signature is a match, sir. We have arrived in the proper dimension.”
Riker tapped a control on his chair’s embedded control pad. “Captain to all hands. We’ve made it. We’re back in our own dimension, but we’re not finished yet. We still have to help the Sidrac make one more jump. Engineering, how are we holding up?”
“It’s getting crazy down here, sir,” replied Geordi La Forge. “I don’t know if we’ll have enough power for the shields and maintaining the power transfer.”
Data said, “Captain, if Nelidar and her people are able to make the calculations for the final shift, we can suspend the transfer and augment our shield strength as we move to a safe distance.”
“What about the power drop-off?” asked Deanna Troi from where she sat to Riker’s left. “Will the reactor be able to sustain enough energy for the final shift?”
From the ops position, Wesley Crusher replied, “Total power being fed to the field generator is eighty-one percent of capacity, Captain, but that’s with our helping it. The rate of decay is continuing to accelerate, and it’ll plunge as soon as we sever the power transfer.”
“If we maintain the power transfer until the moment of transition,” said Data, “then make our withdrawal as the quantum field is forming, that should be sufficient to facilitate the transition.”
Frowning as he processed what he was hearing, Riker said, “Sounds like we’re going to take one last kick in the ass before this is all over. At least we’re being consistent.”
Yar said, “Captain, we’re being hailed from the planet.”
“Put it on-screen.” Riker pushed himself from his chair as Ushalon disappeared from the viewscreen and was replaced by an image of Nelidar. The Sidrac scientist’s already pale complexion seemed to have lightened even further, and Riker noted her troubled expression.
“Captain Riker,” she said. “I trust your ship is undamaged?”
“For the most part.” Riker stepped closer to the screen. “Have you finalized your last set of calculations?”
Nelidar nodded. “Yes, but we are concerned about the reactor power levels. If they fall below what we need for the field generator, all of this will have been for nothing.”
“We’re not done yet,” replied Riker. “We’re maintaining our power transfer until the last possible second, then we’ll retreat once the transition starts.” He grimaced. “It’ll be tight, but I’m confident our shields will protect us.”
“The risk you are undertaking is considerable, Captain.”
Crusher said, “It’s only going to get worse the longer we wait, sir.”
“Nelidar, we’re out of time. It’s now or never. Initiate the shift. We’ll take care of our part up here.”
The Sidrac’s expression softened, her eyes widening. “We will not forget you, Captain Riker. Any of you.”
“Just be sure to send a message or something, letting us know you made it.” Riker recalled what he had been told about the plan for Nelidar and her people once they returned to their own dimension. “You’re ready to evacuate once this is all over?”
“Yes. Our transport vessels are already standing by. The habitat’s reserve power systems will be sufficient until we depart, and the journey to Elanisal is of short duration.”
Riker smiled. “Then I guess this is goodbye. Thank you for everything, Nelidar.”
“It is we who are forever in your debt, Captain. May your future journeys be safe and enlightening.” Nelidar held his gaze for an additional moment before the connection
was severed and her image disappeared, leaving Riker to stare at the dull gray surface of Ushalon highlighted by the brilliant hues of the Spindrift Nebula.
“All right, people,” said Riker, returning to his seat. “Let’s do this. Worf, plot us a course away from the planet and be ready to engage the instant we cut the power transfer. Wesley, stand by to route power from the deflector array to the aft shields. Let’s try to cushion that kick in the pants we’re about to get.”
“We’ll be ready, sir,” replied Crusher.
Dropping into his chair, Riker raised his voice and called out, “Geordi, we’re going to need everything you have.”
The chief engineer’s voice sounded harried as he answered, “We’re on it, Captain.”
“Sensors are showing a new quantum field being generated,” reported Data. “Energy fluctuations are increasing.”
The evidence of this development was visible on the screen, with the planet Ushalon already fading as it was caught in the grips of the transition effect. All around him, the Enterprise had started shuddering again as the starship’s deflector shields absorbed the brunt of the ever-increasing quantum energy field. His arms vibrated along with the reverberations being channeled through his chair.
Yar said, “Shields are at twenty-nine percent.”
“That’s as good as it’s going to get, bridge!” shouted La Forge. “We need to break off now!”
Crusher said, “Cutting the transfer. Routing power to aft deflector shields.”
“Initiating withdrawal course,” reported Worf.
The Klingon exchanged fleeting glances with Crusher as each set to their respective tasks, and seconds later Ushalon shifted right, disappearing past the viewscreen’s edge as the ship maneuvered away from the planet. Without being asked, Yar changed the angle on the screen and Ushalon returned, now further gripped in the throes of dimensional transition.
“Shields are overloading, Captain,” said Yar, just as everything seemed to tremble in response to the assault on the ship’s defensive screens. Lights and workstations flickered and dimmed before returning to their normal illumination levels, and for the briefest of moments Riker felt his stomach heave as the artificial gravity wavered.
On the screen, the lifeless gray orb slipped away, disappearing into nonexistence or—Riker hoped—existence elsewhere. As soon as the turmoil had come calling upon the ship, it was gone, and he felt the vibrations subsiding.
“Transition complete, Captain,” said Yar. “Scans are detecting no sign of the planet and only residual quantum fluctuations.” She tapped a string of controls on her console. “The targeting buoy is still online and functional.”
From the intraship, La Forge said, “Please tell me we’re done.”
Riker could not help the laugh that escaped his lips. The welcome release of tension made him slump into his seat, and he could feel the weight of the past hours lifting from his shoulders.
“Yes, Geordi, we’re done. Nice job down there. Nice job, everybody.” Glancing up to Yar, he said, “Tasha, transmit our message to the buoy.” If all went according to plan, Captain Picard would soon be notified of the mission’s success, at least so far as the Enterprise-D was concerned.
Yar said, “Captain, I’m picking up a signal from the targeting buoy. It’s a compressed data packet, and I’m running it through our decryption algorithms now.” A moment later, she looked up from her console and smiled. “It’s from Nelidar, sir.”
Deanna turned in her seat. “They’re home?”
“Yes,” replied the security chief. “It worked. Nelidar says we should continue to monitor the beacon for a while longer. They’re sending a more detailed message later, after they secure everything.”
It was tempting to bring the beacon aboard and store it for later transfer to Starfleet Research and Development, but Riker knew that Nelidar’s ultimate goal for the device was to destroy it once she had transmitted her final message. She and her fellow Sidrac had decided not to leave behind any traces of their technology, preferring instead to go back to the drawing board and find ways of making such dimensional shifts safer and easier to control. Perhaps Nelidar and her people would succeed, or they might decide the rewards of such efforts did not outweigh the risks.
It was their call, Riker conceded, and one he had no desire to argue. For now, he was grateful for two things: his ship and people were safe, and they were home.
27
HERE
U.S.S. Enterprise-E
The drink seemed to have no flavor, which T’Ryssa Chen thought odd considering the crew lounge’s bartender, Jordan, had made it based on her exacting specifications. Certain it would taste no better with the next sip, she set her glass on the bar and pushed it away.
Sitting next to her, Dina Elfiki asked, “You okay?”
Chen nodded. “Just lost in thought, I guess.”
Pointing to the drink, Elfiki asked, “What is that supposed to be, anyway?”
“A tolik sour fizz. It’s made from a Vulcan fruit, the tolik.” Chen shrugged. “Ensign Scagliotti took shore leave there before we left for the Odyssean Pass the first time. She said she found it in a tourist-friendly club near Lake Yuron after reading about it in a travel guide.” Tapping the edge of the glass with her fingers, she added, “I don’t think I got the recipe right.”
“This is why I stick to vodka martinis,” said Elfiki, holding up her own glass. “It’s almost impossible to get them wrong.”
“I’ll remember that.” Swiveling her seat, Chen took in the rest of the lounge. Alpha shift had ended less than an hour earlier, which meant that the Happy Bottom Riding Club—as named by William Riker before accepting his promotion to captain and departing the Enterprise to assume command of the U.S.S. Titan—was on its way to reaching capacity. It was a nightly tradition to gather here at the end of a normal duty day, or what might constitute “normal” considering the events of the past few days. Chen could not help noticing that the atmosphere, though relaxed and even jovial, felt subdued. Perhaps everything that had transpired was finally catching up, and everyone was only now beginning to decompress.
Works for me. I could use the company.
Elfiki turned in her seat so that like Chen she could face away from the bar. “You’ve been pretty quiet since you got back to the ship.”
“I know. It’s a lot to process, I guess.” Chen leaned back in her seat. “It’s one thing to study about parallel dimensions and alternate realities in class when it’s just some theory. It’s another to read the mission logs from ships like this one where the crew had actual encounters with such things, but none of that compares with coming face-to-face with the evidence that they really, truly exist.” She blew out her breath. “It’s pretty weird.”
“That’s one word for it.” Elfiki sipped from her own drink. “And as weird as it is for us, imagine how it must be for the captain or anyone else who served on the old Enterprise-D.”
Following that ship’s destruction, Chen knew that the majority of its crew had asked to remain with Captain Picard when he eventually took command of its Sovereign-class successor. Many of those people had since moved on to other assignments, or left Starfleet altogether, or perhaps met unfortunate fates as could happen from time to time, but there was still a core of personnel who had remained with the ship throughout everything. Aside from Doctor Crusher and Commanders Worf and La Forge, fully a third of the Enterprise-E’s current contingent had carried over from the starship’s forerunner or had returned here after serving on other ships or starbases.
She had overheard snippets of conversations following her excursion to the planet. The common questions and speculation all ran toward the obvious differences between the two ships’ senior staffs, including the conspicuous absence of Captain Picard. Answers had not been forthcoming and likely would remain out of reach, in keeping with the captain’s decision
not to reveal details about how events had unfolded in much different fashion in the other reality.
“They’re sure staying tight-lipped about the whole thing,” said Chen. “I mean, really quiet. It’s not like I expect Captain Picard to lay it all out over the intraship, but I guess I figured I’d hear . . . something. I was down there when Data arrived from the other Enterprise. He certainly didn’t offer anything, and he was the only one who had any interaction with any of our people.”
Elfiki replied, “Not counting the captain and Doctor Crusher going over there. Talk about out of the blue.”
The decision by Picard to visit the Enterprise-D had sparked its own set of rumors. That action would almost certainly trigger an investigation by the Department of Temporal Investigations. It would not matter that the other starship had come from a different dimension; the mere mention of a time-related incursion would be enough to set off agents within the mysterious organization. Those agents would doubtless be thrilled to be talking with the captain so soon after their last discussion following the Enterprise’s encounter with the Raqilan weapon ship from the future.
“Even Taurik doesn’t know what’s up,” said Chen, “or if he does, then he’s not saying.” She made a note to ask him, wondering if the planet Ushalon and the Sidrac had appeared in any of the computer data the Vulcan had accessed from the Raqilan vessel before sealing all of that information and giving it to DTI. Of course, Taurik had been sworn to secrecy about whatever knowledge of future events he might possess.
“Maybe it’s better to just not know,” said Elfiki.
Chen giggled. “Knowing what you know about me, do you see me leaving this alone?”
“Yeah, I didn’t really think that through.”
Movement behind them made both women turn to see Jordan emerging from the work area behind the bar. Chen saw that he was carrying a silver frame, and it was obvious that the bartender was looking to mount it along with the eclectic collection of memorabilia that covered the bar’s back wall. In keeping with the lounge’s namesake—a bar on twentieth-century Earth frequented by military test pilots—an assortment of photos and other curios decorated the walls, featuring replicated items from the original establishment as well as Starfleet mementos dating back more than two centuries. Jordan, a human with a penchant for his planet’s ancient history, had taken to Captain Riker’s naming of the lounge with great enthusiasm for carrying on the tradition of the original Riding Club. He was forever adding or exchanging various pieces of bric-a-brac around the room in accordance with his shifting tastes.
