The change is... faster than instant. I stare at the screen, and half my mind is telling me that this is what I saw, this is what was there from the outset - while the other half reels in shock from this fundamental betrayal, from this revolt by reality itself....
"Scanning," Zdanruvruk croaks. His fingers fumble at his console. "The temporal anomaly has... resolved itself. The planet is there... sort of."
The enigmatic white sphere is gone; now, grey-brown clouds boil in the skies of a solid but desolate world. Even at a glance, I can see that there is still something very wrong. "What happened to it?"
"I'm reading... massive particulate contamination in the atmosphere," says Zdan. "Consistent with supervolcano eruptions... or a substantial meteor strike... or, maybe, heavy bombardment."
"Sir." Ruby's voice; the android is cool and collected. "I am connecting to subspace channels and receiving updates to our database from Republic Command."
Of course; in this new timeline, the history of Priyanapari may be known... I suppose I should be glad if there is still a Republic for Ruby to connect to. "Signal the Virgo, too. Commander Teadoursi may have insights into this development." Time for the temporal specialists to earn their keep, I feel.
"Virgo is hailing, sir." And they are prompt. Well, they are flying a time machine, they have no possible excuse for tardiness....
"On screen."
The image of ruined Priyanapari is replaced by the impassive face of T'Mev's first officer. "Timeline shift," she says. "Disconcerting, if it's the first time you've seen one, I know."
It might be my first time... or it might not. I do not know. "Do you have any idea what happened?"
"We're querying our own shielded datacores and external temporal observatories. It looks like whatever disaster caused the temporal rift... has been averted."
"Averted, or merely... reduced? The planet is still devastated."
"According to historical records on this time-track, Priyanapari was targeted by Romulan forces in the first decade of the twenty-fourth century. It was the property of a Klingon Great House, the House of Karav... which was not a Great House prior to the timeline shift. I think I see what's happened...." She shifts her weight a little. It is not much, but it shows her to be uneasy.
I raise one eyebrow. "Please explain."
"I think...." She pauses. "The temporal rift must have been detected, and reported back to the enemy forces making the temporal incursion in the twenty-third century. They took some sort of measures which prevented the rift from forming. But, in the process, they must have made this place too much of a threat to the Star Empire -"
"That is consistent with the data I am receiving," Ruby interrupts. "Republic records now show that a military installation on this world was targeted by the Tal Shiar in 2402. Further data is only to be found in the Tal Shiar's own classified archives, I am afraid... but the threat was severe enough for someone to order a C-fractional strike. The House of Karav was, at the time, a vocal opponent of any ties between the Klingons and the Star Empire - perhaps that is why they were seen as a threat."
C-fractional strike. A planet buster. The Tal Shiar accelerated an asteroid to near lightspeed and aimed it at this world. The threat must have been extreme - even the Tal Shiar is relucant to deploy world-wrecking weaponry, in normal situations. But there is something else - I frown. "Commander Teadoursi. You say the existence of the rift was reported back in time to the twenty-third century...."
"And those agents made some adjustment that changed the outcome, yes."
"Reported back from when?"
The Rigelian shifts her body again. "That's what's worrying me. The readings we're getting suggest... this time zone. Whatever's happening here in the twenty-third century, the opposition wants to see the results of it... here and now."
"Which implies they have some sort of observer in this system, now," I say.
"Somewhere around this time zone, yes," says Teadoursi. She shakes her head. "It won't be easy to track down. Their stealth technology is centuries ahead of yours, even."
"Then we should start looking," I say, firmly, "carefully and diligently, right now."
"We don't know what this observer might be," Teadoursi points out. "It might be a stealthed remote drone... or it might be a cloaked Na'kuhl battleship. We can't tell."
"Then we shall look very carefully," I say, "but we shall look."
Teadoursi nods. "Commencing scans. I'd better tie in my conventional sensors to yours... I don't think your ship's computers have the protocols to handle the more advanced stuff, though."
"Then you are more likely to find our intruder first." I flash a brief smile at her. "Messalina will be on station to back you up."
I wish I felt more confident about that. My adapted battle cruiser is equal to most contingencies in this century... but if our adversaries come from the future, I might be commanding nothing more than a futile antique; my nanite disruptor beams might be no more effective than simple cannonballs aimed at the shields of a starship....
Teadoursi's face vanishes. Ruined Priyanapari scowls down at me from the viewscreen. I busy myself with other matters, reading the tachyon scans on my repeater board -
"Signal from Virgo. Urgent," says Ruby.
"On screen."
The Rigelian comes back, and she looks concerned. "We've registered a shuttle launch from your ship," she says.
"What?" It is enough to jolt me out of my composure. I glance around the bridge. "Confirm that!"
"Nothing registering on the automatic log," says Aitra in doleful tones. "But I'm reading...." He turns to face me, and he looks even more careworn and hangdog than usual. "Sir, your gig is no longer in its docking cradle."
I snarl. "Run virus sweeps and computer subversion checks, immediately! And find that gig!"
"It will be cloaked," Ruby observes.
"Work with Subcommander Aitra. The two of you know cloaking systems better than anyone - and this is one of our vessels, you know its cloak parameters -" A sudden horrible thought comes to my mind. I slam my palm down on the command console. "Computer! Tell me the location of passenger Thyvesh."
"Working," the computer grunts. "Passenger Thyvesh not located. This person is not aboard the Messalina."
Thyvesh. There are always things he does not tell me, things he dare not tell me - and he has his own agenda, too, that he does not or cannot disclose. I glare at my bridge team through narrowed eyes. "Find me that shuttle."
"Virgo's sensors are at your disposal," says Teadoursi from the screen. "Though even with our sensor suite, one of your cloaked ships won't be easy to find -"
"Got it," says Aitra. The Rigelian looks surprised, and almost affronted. But Aitra is good with cloaking systems, and he knows the gig's cloak intimately. "Looks like it's on a medium orbital trajectory - as if it's heading for something near the planet. I can't tell you what."
"Hail him," I order.
"Sending signals," Ruby says. "No response."
I consider. "Can we get a transporter lock?" Or a targeting lock - but that must be a last resort.
"I've got a fix on the gig itself," says Aitra, "but I can't isolate individual life signs through the cloak -"
"Then we will try another approach," I say, and stand up. "Lock on to the gig's transporter pad - use its prefix codes. Then beam me over, and I will reason with him."
---
Green light wraps around me... and stays, a worryingly long time. I have never experienced such a delay in the matter stream - but this is no ordinary transport; Ruby and Aitra are working hard to keep a fix on the fleeing shuttle -
I try to draw in a breath, but I cannot. I am unreal, a pattern of energies flowing across space, a thing of data only....
The green light fades, and reality returns. I am standing on the gig's transporter pad. Before me, a hunched figure sits at the controls, with Priyanapari looming on the forward viewport. "Thyvesh," I say.
Thyvesh turns. "T'Laihhae," he croaks. "Shouldn't have come. Knew you would, but you shouldn't have - can't stop what's meant to happen -"
I step forwards, off the pad, towards him. "Thyvesh." My voice is firm. "Tell me what you are doing. Explain this."
"Timeline shift." He gestures spasmodically at the viewport. "Planet is back."
"I can see that." My hand goes to the pistol at my hip. I will stun him if I need to.
"Worse things come with it. They opened the door. In the past. They let him out." He licks his lips. "You said it yourself, once. The one enemy with whom it is always necessary to come to terms. But I can't. Not with him."
"You are not making sense. With whom?" But even as I say it, I remember... my own words, to Vorkov, in the cells. No one was there to hear them but Vorkov and myself, but I am used to the way Thyvesh sees and hears without needing to be present....
One's self is the one enemy with whom it is always necessary to come to terms.
"An alternative timeline. An alternative version of you...."
"Wrong one. Mustn't happen. He hid behind the door. I have to hide, too, now." He turns, and makes some adjustment on the control board. The planet seems to roll, in the viewport.
"Hide where? Where are we going, Thyvesh?"
"Not where. Or when. Alternative." His fingers move rapidly across the console.
And the planet rolls, and blurs, and is gone. The viewport is black and blank, empty even of stars. My hand tightens on the gun. "What have you done?"
"Reprogrammed the helm computer." He gives a harsh wheezing cackle. "Any warp drive is a time machine, if you know how to configure the warp field. Includes temporal shielding. Has to."
"Temporal shielding?" A feeling of dread is rising within me. "What have you done?"
"Should be docking with the Union station soon. Will figure it out. He hid. Now I have to. And so do you, since you're here.... You shouldn't have come. You had to, but you shouldn't have."
"Thyvesh. Explain. Please."
There is something in the viewport, now. One solitary - object - in the empty black. Blocky modules arranged in a ring, with a long central cylinder - like a child's spinning top, hanging there in infinite darkness.
"Station of the Union of Federated Planets," says Thyvesh.
"You mean the United Federation of Planets," I say, though without conviction.
Thyvesh laughs again. "If only.... The Vulcan-Andorian War destroyed Andoria as a spacefaring power, but then the Romulans botched their takeover, and what should have been a simple reunification turned into a bloody civil war that shattered all the Vulcanoid worlds. The humans retreated, abandoned deep space exploration, after the catastrophic failure of their NX prototypes. But the Tellarites and the Denobulans had to respond to Klingon expansionism, had to band together, work with other minor powers - Xylarians, Caitians, Deltans...." His laugh is worryingly high-pitched. "Historical forces. Peaceful multi-species federation, it's an idea whose time has come.... All that planning, oceans of blood spilt, starships and cities burned in their thousands... and all they did was move the Federation capital from Earth to Denobula Triaxa. Couldn't even change the initials."
The station - whatever it is - is large, now, and close. "A relic of an aborted timeline." It's the best guess I can come up with.
"Yes. It's not real, it never happened. But we are not real, now, either. Only way to stay safe."
Hangar bay doors are opening in the side of one module. The gig drifts through them, slowing, coming to rest on the deckplates with a dull metallic clang. Thyvesh shuts down the flight systems.
I take a deep breath. My hand is very tense on my gun.
We are here. Now to find out where here is.
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