"Thing is," I say to the pair of black-clad legs sticking out of the Jeffries tube, "I don't know if I can trust my own memories. And that bothers me."
"I can imagine." The rest of the tall lanky Andorian attached to the legs shuffles back out of the tube. Tylha Shohl stands up. "I suppose it's something we all need to worry about, if there's Temporal Investigations involvement." Her scarred face is characteristically serious.
"I suppose," I say, "it will all work out all right in the end. Like the Iconian business, where it turned out everything happened the way it was meant to...."
"Timelines eventually resolve themselves into a stable configuration," says Tylha. "They have to, I guess. Of course, the sensible thing would be not to mess with them in the first place." She shrugs. "The galaxy's full of not very sensible people, unfortunately."
"Yeah," I say, "and one of them flies a Xindi battlewagon." I look around, at the distinctly shop-worn condition of the Leacock's engineering section. "Or does she?"
"Well, let's go find her," says Tylha, "and we can run through the available options." She smooths her white ponytail back into place. "We spent so much time trying to fix T'Pia's Orb Weaver, now we've got this one dropped on us.... Sometimes, I wish people would take better care of their ships."
I tactfully refrain from mentioning some of the things that have happened to Tylha's King Estmere, especially since some of them were sort of my fault. We make our way out of the engineering section, to a nearby conference room. T'Mev is looking cool, calm and collected like any Vulcan should; some of the bounce, however, seems to have gone out of Carolyn Caird. They're standing by a holo-display pedestal - the Xindi, apparently, don't believe in chairs.
"Right," says Tylha. She is the person with all the screwdrivers, so she is taking charge of this situation. "The Leacock is extensively damaged, but it's nothing that can't be fixed, if she can spend enough time in the yards. I take it she doesn't have the time to spend?"
"It would be preferable to expedite matters," says T'Mev.
"Hold on," I protest. "This thing is, basically, a time machine, right? So don't we have all the time in the world? Tylha can spend months polishing up every last rivet, and you can still zap back to the twenty-third century at precisely the time you left?"
"There are issues of timeline continuity which make it preferable to be quick," says T'Mev.
"Aye," says Caird. "See, if Ah turn up five minutes after Ah left, an' Ah'm suddenly wearin' a lang white beard, ye'd ken somethin' wis gaein' on, am Ah right? Yer... younger sel'... wid, Ah mean."
"Gross physical factors such as that are not the only consideration," T'Mev adds. "The main problem is one of temporal mechanics - time-frame drift, I believe is the colloquial term. I could furnish you with references to the appropriate technical literature -"
"How about we save that for later?" says Tylha, doing her most-sensible-person-in-the-room bit. "All right. The fabricators can take care of most of the structural damage, but your Aegis systems took one hell of a hammering, and we don't have sufficient Xindi-compatible replacement components immediately in stock. So we're going to have to pull those modules and install something else."
I snap my fingers. "Waitaminute. After the first probe at Priyanapari, the Leacock looked - different, somehow. Like she'd made repairs, but she'd been patched with concrete or something...." At least, I think that's what happened. Or, maybe, after this meeting, it will be what happened. I could go mad, doing this.
In any case, Tylha gives a nod. "We've got some advanced Romulan shielding and drive modules which can be fitted quickly," she says. "They're not, umm, aesthetically elegant, but they're rugged, and some tac-division commanders I know swear by them. It's probably the quickest option for getting you fully operational and back into the fray." Her antennae twitch. "I don't know about integrating them with your temporal circuitry -"
"The temporal devices are designed to be self-contained," says T'Mev. "With respect, they should also not be... tampered with."
"I see," says Tylha with a sigh. "Well. In that case, we'll just plough on with the Romulan modules, then. I suppose you want this as fast as we can manage it?"
"Speed would be appreciated," says T'Mev.
"Och aye," adds Caird fervently. Which is about what I'd expect from her.
"Everyone wants things done yesterday," Tylha mutters.
"Well," I say, "what would you expect from Temporal Investigations? Anyway. Next question, I guess, is how did the Leacock get into this shape in the first place? I mean, Ateleth versus a twenty-third century D7, that should be no contest, right?"
"It wisnae a standard D7," says Caird.
"Historical registry details check out for the IKS Hov'etlh," says T'Mev. "As things stand, it had a... distinguished career, under Captain, later Dahar Master, Kirza. We must assume that the Na'kuhl modified the ship. Substantially."
"But without actually replacing the ship or the underlying spaceframe," says Tylha with a thoughtful look.
"Well," I say, "there was plenty of scope in those old designs to over-perform. That's one of the reasons the KDF kept the D7 design in service so long, isn't it? And a twenty-third century Connie was the same way - remember the Nomad probe? Or the Kelvans? A bit of software jiggery-pokery down in main engineering had the old Enterprise zooming around at warp eleven without breaking a sweat."
"Apart from enormous stress on the SI field," says Tylha, "but even so, there are ways around that.... Let me think. I should be able to come up with a similar set of software mods for a Constitution-class." She glances at me. "That'd put your younger self on an even footing with this Kirza, if the need arises."
"Weel," says Caird, "someone needs tae gae intae yon system an' scout oot Priyanapari, that's fer sure. Ye cannae dae th' same fer th' Leacock?" she adds, hopefully.
"The Leacock is pretty much optimized already," says Tylha, "at least by today's standards. If you can bring any magic tech down from the future - well, go ahead. The best I can do for you, though, is those Romulan systems."
"That assistance will be gratefully received," says T'Mev.
"Do you remember -?" Tylha begins to ask me.
"I remember pretty much everything," I say, "as soon as we've thought of it. I think. Yes, I got a data cart from Captain Caird which supercharged the Harrier's systems. But can I tell you what we did with it?"
"Possibly not," says T'Mev, "without introducing a predestination paradox. That is generally something to be avoided."
"Ye see why Temporal Investigations is sae close-mouthed, the noo," says Caird. "Ye can call me Caro, by the way, if ye like."
All this is really starting to do my head in. Predestination paradoxes? Next thing I'll be going back in time to shoot my own grandfather or something. Mind you, from what my dad used to say, he needed shooting. "OK. So, Tylha will do a rush job on the Leacock and get that software hack organized for the Harrier." I shoot an apologetic look at Tylha. "What do you want to do with your other hand?" She just snorts.
"We should review the available data on Priyanapari in this time period," says T'Mev. "If we could define the main target of the Romulans' planet-killing strike -" Her combadge whistles at her. Being a good Vulcan, she doesn't register the faintest annoyance, just taps it and says, "T'Mev."
"Virgo here." The rough voice of T'Mev's Rigelian exec. "We have a possible line on Admiral T'Laihhae."
"Specify," says T'Mev.
"Temporal observatory has located a transponder signal from her gig. We have no way of knowing if she is still aboard it, of course, but at least it's a starting point. Transmitting coordinates along the data subchannel now." T'Mev nods, and starts doing things to the holo-display pedestal.
"Where did T'Laihhae go, anyway?" I ask. Not that I expect anyone to know.
A weird abstract shape appears in the air over the pedestal. "That would seem to be your answer," says T'Mev. I look at it. It's not speaking any language I know.
"It's not much of an answer," I grumble.
"Any faster than light drive, in theory, constitutes a time machine, viewed in the context of classical relativity," says T'Mev. "Essentially, it moves a vessel outside the light cone of its own departure event." She studies the display carefully. "Warp mechanics do not normally allow for the... freedom of movement... displayed here. Someone has access to advanced navigational technology - or to its equivalent. T'Laihhae's companion, Thyvesh, might be able to chart such a course intuitively, using his peculiar engineered abilities."
"So where did they go?" I ask.
"Nowhere. And no-when." T'Mev is absolutely intent on the display, now. "The problem will be finding which particular nowhere they chose." She actually frowns. "Following them could prove to be a problem."
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