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SIX STAR TREK STORIES

by Scott Reeves

Other books by Scott Reeves, available in paperback at iUniverse.com, Amazon.com, or ask for

them at your favorite bookseller:

Demonspawn

Earth in Chains (adults only)

Colony

The Dream of an Ancient God

Phantoms of the Mind

Prison of Rhyme

Love and Apocalypse

And coming Christmas 2003 at iUniverse.com and other booksellers:

Santa’s Twisted Christmas

HOME

From behind Captain Janeway, Harry Kim called out,

"Captain, long range sensors are picking up a vessel three

parsecs off the port bow. Moving very slowly."

Janeway stood and moved to Kim's station. Chakotay

followed.

"What sort of vessel?" she asked.

Kim shook his head. "Resolution is poor at this

distance, but I don't recognize the configuration. And,

well, the computer..."

"Yes, Mr. Kim?"

"The computer says it matches the configuration of a

class of sub-light ships from 21st century Earth--a sleeper

ship used during the first wave of extra-Solar colonization.

Janeway was astonished. "That's extraordinary, Mr.

Kim." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Could it be a trap?

Are there any other ships in the area?"

Kim consulted his instruments again, double-checking

himself. "Just us, Captain."

Chakotay looked at Janeway. "We should investigate,

Captain. If it is an Earth ship out here, however unlikely

that seems..."

Janeway nodded. "Agreed. Helm, lay in a course."

As Tom Paris was entering the Mess Hall, he ran into

Tuvok, who was exiting. Tuvok held a small, greenish rock

in his hand.

"What have you got there, Tuvok?"

"Ah, Mr. Paris. It's fortunate our paths have crossed.

Please accompany me to Engineering."

"Can it wait, Tuvok? I'm really hungry. Neelix has a

big plate of spaghetti waiting for me."

"I believe the Captain has given you Level A Security

clearance, has she not, Mr. Paris?"

Paris nodded.

"Then, Mr. Paris: I just now confiscated this rock

from Ensign Webber. He illegally obtained it several years

ago while stationed on a planet called Gateway."

"Never heard of it."

"That is not surprising. The rock is a fragment of a

larger artifact that has been kept from public knowledge

because of its potential dangerousness, were it to be used

improperly or by the wrong people."

Paris listened attentively, intrigued.

"The artifact, which calls itself the Guardian of

Forever, is a gateway to any time period in history, or any

place in the known universe." Tuvok turned the rock over in

his hands, his brisk pace indicative his excitement.

"And that little rock is a piece of this Guardian? So

what? It just looks like an ordinary little rock to me."

Tuvok raised his eyebrow. "This 'little rock' may mean

that you will be having that spaghetti dinner you wanted,

Mr. Paris. Tonight. On Earth."

Janeway stared intently at the forward viewscreen.

"Coming into range now, sir," Harry said.

A battered, blocky, ancient-looking space vessel

lumbered slowly onto the viewscreen. Janeway and Chakotay

leaned forward in their seats to study it.

"Straight out of the history books," Chakotay said.

"What's it doing way out here?"

"Sensors confirm that it is a DY-100-class sleeper

ship," Kim reported. "Hull-markings identify it as the

S.S. Sheridan. There is nothing in the computer about this

particular ship..."

"That's not surprising. Records from that time period

are so fragmented. Life signs?"

"Faint, but there. Consistent with suspended

animation."

Janeway stood. "Still no sign of other ships in the

area? Kazon?"

Kim consulted his readouts. "None."

Janeway looked at Chakotay. "Commander, take an Away

Team and find out what that piece of living history is doing

in our part of the Galaxy. We'll discuss the revival of

those people later."

Chakotay smiled eagerly. "On my way, Captain." He

motioned to Kim and the two of them left the bridge.

In Engineering, Tuvok, Paris and Torres clustered

around an analyzer in which was cradled the fragment of the

Guardian. Energy from the warp drive was being fed into the

fragment, causing it to glow a bright white.

"Well, Tuvok, that's very pretty. It holds the energy

well," Paris said sarcastically. "But you still haven't

told us what you're trying to accomplish with this."

Torres nodded and they looked to Tuvok for an answer.

"I had thought my intentions were obvious. Tests on

the Guardian have shown that its powers can be stored in

fragments of it. This rock is, to use a human expression,

a 'chip off the old block.' It should possess the abilities

of its parent, although to a lesser extent. I believe that

if we feed enough power to this fragment, we will be able to

access those abilities."

Sudden understanding lit Paris' face. "You mean

instantaneous travel across the Galaxy. Take a single step

and we're home."

Tuvok didn't take his attention from the fragment.

"Precisely, Mr. Paris."

The intercom chimed. "Janeway to Tuvok. We've

encountered an old-style sleeper ship, and I've sent

Commander Chakotay to investigate. I'd like you and Lt.

Paris on the bridge as soon as possible."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow, and Paris and Torres exchanged

curious looks. "Acknowledged. Tuvok out."

The three of them turned back to the rock-Guardian.

"Cross your fingers, B'lanna," Paris said. "If this works,

I'll treat you to the best plate of spaghetti you've ever

had.""What in the name of Kahless is spaghetti?"

Paris' eyes widened in disbelief, and he opened his

mouth to respond, but Tuvok interrupted.

"Ms. Torres, increase power by .5 %."

Torres stepped back a few feet to a control console and

touched a few buttons. There was a loud sound like a crack

of thunder. Torres watched helplessly as a blinding flash

of light expanded from the rock and engulfed Tuvok and

Paris. They vanished and the light faded. No trace of the

Guardian fragment remained.

Torres looked in horror at the empty space where Paris

and Tuvok had been. She pulled herself together and touched

her communicator. "Engineering to bridge. Captain, we've

had...an accident down here..."

Chakotay and Kim walked down a darkened, narrow

corridor lined on both sides with frosted, glass-covered

berths in which lay people in suspened animation.

Kim swung his flashlight from side to side. "Johnson

should have the lights on any minute now."

On cue, lights on the ceiling flared to life. Chakotay

and Kim turned off their hand lights and strapped them to

their belts.

Chakotay walked over to one of the berths and rubbed

away the frost, looking in at the occupant. Kim did the

same at another berth.

"Incredible, isn't it?" Chakotay asked. "For these

people the 21st century was yesterday. But they've slept

away 300 years."

Kim walked to the next berth and rubbed away the frost.

His eyes widened when he saw the occupant. "Commander!"

Chakotay rushed over and looked questioningly at Kim,

who directed his attention inside the berth. Chakotay

peered inside.

The frozen form of Tuvok reclined within the berth.

Frost covered his eyebrows and streaked his hair.

Chakotay and Kim exchanged astonished glances, then

Chakotay moved to the next berth and rubbed at the frost,

looking inside. Kim peered over his shoulder.

Inside the berth was Tom Paris, his exposed skin dusted

with frost.

In a narrow, deserted alleyway, Paris and Tuvok were

lying unconscious next to a garbage dumpster. Tuvok stirred

first. He sat up and looked around. From the direction of

the alley mouth he heard numerous voices and the steady hum

of automobile traffic.

He put his fingers to the side of his head and closed

his eyes, willing his headache to go away. That done, he

leaned over and checked Paris' vital signs. Satisfied that

Paris was merely unconscious, he walked to the head of the

alley and cautiously peered onto the street beyond.

Sleek vehicles rushed by on the street. People hurried

past on the sidewalk. Many of the people were dressed in

various types of military uniforms and had guns strapped to

their hips. Those soldiers not wearing identical uniforms

watched each other warily.

Paris came groaning behind Tuvok. He shook his head

back and forth and blinked his eyes several times. "My head

feels like the morning after," he said. He looked onto the

street. "Is it just my imagination, Tuvok, or are we on

Earth? I remember a flash of light back in Engineering, and

then..."

"We are indeed on Earth, Mr. Paris. It appears w e

were successful in tapping the abilities of the Guardian

fragment. Although this uncontrolled and unplanned trip

is not at all what I had intended."

Paris grinned up at the buildings, the city and the

bustle of people around them. "What does that matter, Tuvok?

We're here! I'm home, and Vulcan is just a short hop across

the quadrant. Now let's get out there and find out where on

Earth we are."

"Very well. But I must urge caution, Mr. Paris. With

all those uniforms out there, we should not appear out of

place, but...." Tuvok broke off, because as he he'd been

talking, Paris had left the alley, too excited at being home

to listen to Tuvok.

Tuvok arched an eyebrow at Paris' retreating back. He

touched his ears, then quickly looked around. A timeless

1950's style fedora hat lay discarded beside a dumpster.

He reached down, picked it up and placed it on his head. It

barely concealed his pointed ears. Somewhat satisfied, he

left the alley in pursuit of Paris.

When he caught up, Paris did a double-take at the hat

on Tuvok's head. "Very...stylish, Tuvok."

The two of them walked side by side, going with the

flow of the pedestrians. Paris ogled the buildings and

shops that lined the street, drinking in the sights of home.

The soldiers they passed watched them warily and

fingered their guns nervously, but otherwise ignored them.

"You know, something doesn't look quite right about

this place," Paris said in puzzlement. "This looks a lot

like New York City--I lived there for awhile, and some of

these buildings look familiar, but...not quite right..."

"This is not the New York City you know, Mr. Paris. I

had thought that was immediately obvious. You will recall

that I said the Guardian of Forever was a doorway to any

time period, as well as anywhere in space. I did not

realize you would blindly assume we were still in the 24th

century."

Paris stopped and turned to Tuvok, suddenly bewildered.

They moved out of the flow of people, to stand in the

sheltered entrance of a drugstore.

"So when are we, exactly?"

Tuvok looked at a news kiosk behind Paris. "Based on

my observations so far, we are in the second quarter of

the 21st century. Specifically, March 23rd, 2052." He

folded his arms on his chest. "A particularly turbulent year

in history."

"But why here, Tuvok? Of all the places in the

universe, all the times, why did the rock send us to 21st

century New York City?"

"I've always been fascinated by the particularly brutal

history of your planet. On Voyager for the past several

nights I had been refreshing my knowledge of this period. It

is possible that at the time of our experiment with the

fragment, thoughts of this period occupied my mind. Perhaps

the fragment somehow sensed this and sent us here."

Paris shrugged. "Well, however we got here, we're

here. I wish the others could have made it back with us,

but....We can make a life here. 300 years in the past still

beats being cramped into Voyager for the next eighty years."

He suddenly noticed a restaurant across the street whose

sign read, "Luigi's Fine Italian Eatery." Another sign in

the window proclaimed "Spaghetti--All you can eat--10 cr."

Paris looked at the place longingly.

"Do not make yourself at home too quickly, Mr. Paris.

We cannot stay here. We must return to Voyager."

Paris waved his arms angrilly. "Tuvok, don't start

quoting me the Prime Directive, or lecturing me on the

dangers of meddling with history. We're here, and I don't

see that we have the slightest chance of getting back to

Voyager. She's 300 years and half a galaxy away. Why even

bother...."

Tuvok's voice was heavy with un-Vulcanly exasperation.

"Do you not know the history of your own planet, M r .

Paris?"

"I must have been asleep when the teacher got

to the mid-21st century," Paris said sarcastically. "Why

don't you fill me in?"

As though suddenly realizing passersby might be able to

hear their conversation about the future, Tuvok led Paris

into the vacant doorway of a boarded-up building across the

street, so they could talk in private. "This year is a

pivotal point in Earth's history, Mr. Paris. Though the

Eugenics Wars are several decades in the past, two tyranical

supermen are still holding a small portion of the United

States, and another is at large. An historic peace

conference is to take place here in New York City later this

year. Soldiers from various world factions are already

converging here in anticipation of this. Several groups

have already tried to sieze control of the city. The

situation here at the moment is extremely volatile."

Paris looked out at the soldiers milling in the

streets. "So that explains them all, and why no one has

given us a second glance."

"The situation in the rest of the world is just as

tense. Two weeks from today, to prevent the peace

negotiations, an unknown faction will detonate several

neutron bombs here in New York City, and the city will

be completely vaporized."

Paris felt sudden horror as he remembered his history.

"World War III. World War III starts this year with t h e

destruction of New York City."

"It appears you were not asleep during your history

class after all."

Paris looked out on the street, at the people rushing

by. With helpless pity on his face. "All these people

are going to die..."

"If I recall correctly, 25 million people were killed

in the 30 seconds that it took for New York City to be

obliterated."

Just then, across the street, a group of soldiers

stopped and began to study Tuvok and Paris very closely.

The insignia on the breast of the soldiers was a fist

clutching three lightning bolts.

"Perhaps we had best move on, and find a secluded

spot where we can consider our next course of action i n

safety."

Paris nodded and they rejoined the flow of people on

the sidewalk. Paris glanced back at the group of soldiers,

but they were gone.

They soon entered a run-down neighborhood. Old and

grimey buildings lined the trash-littered street. The

people walking the streets were a mirror of their

surroundings.

"There used to be a huge park a few blocks from here,"

Paris said. "I mean, 300 years from now there will be a

park, which was supposedly built in the late 20th century--"

His eyes widened in horror and disgust as two grotesque

people passed them. Weeping sores cover their bodies, and

they walked with highly-pronounced limps.

Tuvok gave no sign that he'd noticed.

Paris, however, gave the infected couple a wide berth.

He turned and stared after them for a moment, then caught up

with Tuvok. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Tuvok,

what--?"

"As I said, Mr. Paris, the Eugenics Wars are several

decades past, but the world is still suffering from them.

At least ten engineered viruses are circulating among the

population. They are extremely virulent and deadly.

In the remnants of the United States, large groups of

infected people are quarantined. Other countries choose to

dispose of their infected using less humanitarian means. By

the time these viruses are finally brought under control a

decade from now, 100 million people will have been killed by

them."

Paris looked around, suddenly noticing more of the

sore-covered people. "Uh, Tuvok, are we in any danger from

being so close to these people?"

"I do not believe so. These people undoubtedly carry

a blood-born virus. Otherwise this entire area would b e

sealed behind a wall and heavily guarded."

"This place is insane. Plagues, trigger-happy armies

roaming the cities..."

"Then may I assume your first-hand experience of this

time period, coupled with your knowledge of events to come,

has sufficiently motivated your desire to return to

Voyager?"

Paris nodded.

"Very good. At this point I should inform you that we

are being followed."

Paris risked a glance backward. Three of the soldiers

with the lightning-bolts-in-fist insignia were coming up the

street toward Paris and Tuvok.

They continued walking non-challantly, as though

ignorant of their followers.

"Are you ready to run?" Paris asked. "They have some

formidable-looking weaponry, and we're unarmed."

Tuvok nodded, and the two of them began walking faster,

preparing to run. They halted when four more of the

lightning-bolt-insignia soldiers come around the corner

ahead of them and moved to cut them off.

Tuvok pointed to a darkened alley nearby, and Paris

nodded. They turned into the alleyway--only to discover

that it dead-ended in a brick wall. Trash heaps littered

the alleyway. The nearest windows were twenty feet above

them and covered with metal bars.

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