“That would have defeated the purpose of the surprise,” Garcia said.
“Obviously they didn’t fill you in, but this is where I talk, and you listen,” Simon said. “Now, you obviously have a little bit of talent, or we wouldn’t have allowed you to make these last minute changes to your band, but last minute changes to your song of choice will not be tolerated.”
“We stayed within our time constraints,” Garcia said.
“It’s not about time. It’s about staying on track and performing what you said you would perform,” Simon said. “Further, I really think you should loose the tambourine girl, for she’s nothing but eye candy. And you really should reconsider your costumes. Niki, your hair is hideous, and your skirt could be lifted about four inches…”
“That, sir, was uncalled for,” Garcia said. “You can make comments about our ability to perform music all you want. All other comments will be directed to me.”
“You talk to me like that again, and you’re out of here,” Simon said.
“You talk to her like that again, I’ll kick your ass,” Garcia assured him.
“Tam,” Kletsova said, touching his arm. “We’re on live.”
“I think you all did splendidly,” Paula said, trying to change the direction things were going.
“You would stand up for him,” Simon said. “What, do you think this Garcia is boyfriend potential?”
“Where do you get off insulting her like that?” Garcia asked. Kketsova and Lenar stepped to either side of Garcia as if to hold him back should a fight ensue.
“This is my show,” Simon said. “Just what do you think you’re going to do about it, music boy?”
“Come up here and I’ll show you,” Garcia said.
“Tam!” Lenar said. “You’re over reacting.”
Simon climbed up on stage and took a swing at Garcia while Kletsova and Lenar were holding him back. Garcia took the hit without protest, and it was hardly a hit considering he had been floored by Klingons that were twice as strong as humans. Of course, the fact that he was a Combat Ki Master helped him to take hits while simultaneously reducing the likelihood of sustaining injurry or experiencing pain. Simon waved his bravado at the cameraman and to the applause of thousands in the audience. Garcia gave Lenar and Kletsova one look and then they let him go. Simon turned around to find Garcia no longer hindered. Simon took one hit and went down.
“Come on, we’re out of here,” Garcia said, heading off stage. The cameras followed.
“Where are we going to go?” Trini asked.
“I have a place,” Garcia assured her.
“Tam, I think you were out of line,” Kletsova said, grabbing his arm. “What’s got into you?”
“He was out of line,” Garcia corrected, pausing to communicate with her directly. “We’re not selling sex. We’re selling music, and for him to suggest Niki should lift her skirt is more than just harassment, its tantamount to child porn.”
“It’s his job to be harsh,” Kletsova said. “Part of having character is being able to take a few insults. I think you need to go meditate and calm your ass down. You’re just under way too much stress.”
“I’m in charge here,” Garcia said, stepping closer to Kletsova. “And it’s my job to look out for Niki’s well being.”
“Excuse me? I think it’s our job,” Kletsova argued.
“Why don’t we talk about this later, after we’ve cooled off for a bit,” Trini said and nodding towards the camera to remind them everything they say and do was being recorded.
“Stop trying to water this down,” Kletsova told her. “Garcia is way out of line.”
“I think Simon had it coming,” Niki said, and then smiled at Garcia.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Kletsova said. “Tammas Parkin! Don’t encourage that line of thinking. We are Star Fleet officers. We don’t behave like this and we never hit first.”
“He hit Tam first,” Niki poined out.
“Only because we were holding him back,” Kletsova said. “And you were taunting him, Tam. On his show! You had it coming. We don’t fight at the drop of a hat.”
“The Iotians do,” Lenar pointed out. “Technically, Garcia is just trying to fit in.”
“I don’t believe this,” Kletsova said, opening up the door to the dressing room. She allowed everyone to enter and stood in the doorway. “Really, where are we going to go? How do you plan to feed us?”
“What would you like him to do?” Trini asked. “Go back and apologize?”
“That would be a nice start,” Kletsova said.
Paula Abdul, the show’s producer, and a cameraman entered the room.
“You can’t leave. We want you to finish the contest,” Paula said.
“That little stunt just shot our ratings up,” the producer said.
“Which one?” Lenar asked. “The song change or hitting Simon?”
“Hitting Simon,” the producer said. “You don’t know how many people have wanted to do that but have back downed for fear of being kicked off the show.”
Garcia looked at his band, considered his mission, and then nodded. “We will stay, under the condition that Simon directs any harsh comments towards me personally. The girls are off limits, and he should try to restrict his insults to the quality of our music.”
“I will see to that,” the producer said.
“Thank you for standing up for me. What I don’t understand is why you would risk your chance at the title to do that. I’m just a stranger to you,” Paula said.
“He had no right to attack your character because you disagreed with him. Winning a contest is not worth the loss of self respect,” Garcia said. “We will work, we will practice, and we will perform to the best of our ability and accept legitimate criticism, but attacking a person’s character in a public venue is unacceptable. If he wants to pull you or my team aside and say something, that’s one thing. But not on tv.”
“You mean your band?” the producer asked.
“I mean my team,” Garcia said.
“So, you’ll stay?” Paula asked.
“We’ll stay,” Garcia said.
“Thank you,” the producer said.
“Thank you,” Paula echoed. “Rest up. I’ll bring you your rehearsal schedule in the morning.”
Garica closed the door and locked it. No one noticed that he locked it three times.
“I think she likes you, Tam,” Niki said.
“Oh brother,” Klesova said, heading towards the sink to wash the makeup off her face. “Someone wake me when this nightmare is over.”
“Can we order a pizza?” Niki asked.
“Yeah,” Garcia said, and threw himself on a couch. He closed his eyes to think.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Part of the condition to being on the show was that the contestants were watched around the clock and the captures of their activities could be utilized as filler on the actual show or made available on the internet to encourage viewer participation. The latest web based feature allowed viewers to tune into live cam feeds to see what their favorite contestants were doing between gigs and practices. Garcia had mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, being scrutinized by anyone and everyone would detour the government from acting against them, and the greater their popularity, the better odds that they would be left alone. On the other hand, as long as they were being watched, Garcia was unable to share any information with his team, which effectively isolated him. They had no idea that he had found where the hostages were being kept and that he was currently working on a plan to help rescue them.
While part of Garcia’ attention explored the military base via Brittany, mapping and evaluating the situation, the remainder of his attention was in practicing an acoustical guitar. He had roused from sleep before his clan and slipped out onto the main floor of their hotel. There was a communal kitchen and living area where the contestants could mingle. He had turned his chair towards the large plate glass window to face the sun and pretended not to be aware that people had gathered to listen as he picked at his guitar. Pigeons gathered on the window ledge and basked in the sun. By the time Nikita arrived and had pulled up a chair next to him, he had put together the words to a new song. Not a great song, by far, but it echoed a loss inside of him.
Traveler, take me somewhere I can see Lights chasing lights, like strings of pearls Stars dancing in the night To a place where time is meaningless And I might see him alive again.
Traveler, teach me to fly
To see past the trappings of time To move beyond that which we think is real To go where no one has gone before And find him alive again.
Traveler, traveler, stop this wheel called time Reverse this thing we call entropy Phase me out of this reality
Let me go somewhere safe
Where he waits for me, alive, always and again.
I don’t know.”
“Who’s this traveler guy?” Trini asked.
Garcia became aware of his commune around him. Everyone else in the lobby he simply tuned out.
“Someone Wes was telling me about.”
“Oh, brother,” Kletsova said. “Not that ghost story again. Oh, please, pick me, I’m special.” “Wes is special,” Garcia offered.
“So are you,” Niki told him.
“She’s got a point,” Lenar said. “No one would disagree that you’re pretty special and you haven’t
found it necessary to create stories of hyper dimensional beings popping up in your life to accentuate that fact.”
“Just because I haven’t attracted the attention of the likes of Q doesn’t mean…” Garcia began.
“Exactly,” Kletsova interrupted. “And even if you did, it may not mean what you think it means.”
“The thing is,” Garcia began, carefully choosing his words. “I had this experience when I crashed my bike into the cornfield. It wasn’t a dream. I am very familiar with the dream state, hell, I live in my dreams. I lucid dream every night. It wasn’t a dream.”
“What are you trying to tell us?” Tatiana asked.
“You know the stories that some people tell of an afterlife when they’ve recover from an operation?” Garcia said. “I had one. I saw Sarek and he told me I had to come back. There was something I had to do. It’s gets a bit hazy after that.”
Niki touched Garcia’s hand. “I know you must miss Sarek, and McCoy, but we’re here for you. We’re all here with you right now.”
Garcia smiled and nodded. “How did you get to be so smart?” he asked.
Niki blushed. Garcia kissed Niki lightly on the forehead and then began to play “In My life” by the Beatles. And when he did, the net server crashed due to the number of people tuning in.
There are places I remember All my life, though some have changed Some forever not for better Some have gone and some remain All these places had their moments With lovers and friends
I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living In my life I've loved them all But of all these friends and lovers there is no one compares with you And these memories lose their meaning When I think of love as something new Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more
“I love you,” Niki said when he finished.
Garcia touched his forehead to her forehead.
“We’re scheduled for rehearsal in an hour, so we thought we would go and watch the other band’s
practice,” Lenar said. “You with us?”
“Sure,” Garcia agreed, standing and returning the guitar to its cradle.
The auditorium was one floor up and dimly lit. Several bands were present observing the band on
stage go through their practice as Star Fleet Singers made their appearance. They quietly made their way in from the back. They established their campsite about midway from the front, with Niki sitting to Garcia’s right, and Trini on his left. Kletsova and Lenar sat behind them.
“Are you feeling okay?” Trini asked Garcia.Garcia nodded.
“You seem distracted,” Trini said.
Niki leaned forward in her chair, staring hard at the performers on the stage and suddenly gripped
Garcia’s hand so tight he turned to her. “Ow,” Garcia said.
“That’s the Bangles!” Niki whispered.
“They’re not the Bangles,” Garcia said.
“They look like the Bangles!” Niki insisted. “Oh my god! We’re competing against the Bangles.” “It’s not the Bangles,” Garcia said.
The performers stopped abruptly and a quarrel commenced. The lead was trying to keep the
discussion they were having from escalating into a fight, but their vocal levels suggested it might explode any moment. One of the bands sitting in the auditorium made some disparaging comments loud enough to be heard, followed by some snickering.
Kletsova leaned forward to whisper at Garcia. “What are you two mumbling about?” Kletsova asked. “Nothing,” Garcia said.Tatiana sighed and sat back. The performers attempted again to play the song they had been assigned. Technically, it was flawless, exactly as it had been written, however, their particular challenge was to personalize it, make it theirs, and two of the performers seemed unhappy with their progress and were resisting the tempo and musical progression in search of something uniquely theirs. The band to Garcia’s left made some more comments.
“Lenar, go stop the heckling, will you,” Garcia said, standing up.
“On it,” Lenar said, getting up.
“Where are you going?” Trini asked.
“I’m going to go offer my help,” Garcia said.
“Oh, brother,” Kletsova said, rolling her eyes. “Tam, did you ever consider it’s not your place? Prime
Directive might apply here.”
“Trini?” Garcia asked.
“Help them,” Trini said.
“Is this about the music or the girls?” Kletsova asked.
“How dare you?!” Garcia asked, shocked. “It’s always about the music. First.”
As Garcia approached the stage, the lead singer had had enough. “Fine, let’s take a five minute break.
Debbi, go get some water.” She then went to the stairs at the side of the stage and sat down just as Garcia was coming up. “What do you want?” she snapped.
“May I talk to you?” Garcia asked.
She blew a puff of air, suggesting doubt in his motives, but then nodded to her left, indicating he could sit on the stairs next to her. He did and offered her his hand.
“My name is Tammas Garcia,” he said.
“Susana Hoffs,” she said, not taking his hand. Instead, she put her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands.
Garcia took a moment to process the information and decided that this was perhaps the opportunity he had been looking for to study the phenomena of the old Earth personalities now living on Iotia. “They’re asking you to update and own the Beach Boy song, In My Room?” Garcia asked.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s an easy enough song to emulate, but we’re not happy with any of the directions we’ve been taking it.”
“Would you mind if I helped?” Garcia asked.
Susanna looked at him as if he were an alien. “And why would you want to do that?” she asked.
Garcia understood her question. Why would a fellow competitor offer to help an opponent? “I like music, I believe in your band, I know what you are capable of, and you seem to be in a bit of a writer’s block if you will, and I have some techniques that might help you get your inspiration back,” Garcia said.
“And what would you want in return?” Susanna asked.
“Nothing. No strings attached,” Garcia said. “And, if you feel that what I have to offer is a waste of your time, I will give you my band’s rehearsal time slot for today to compensate you.”
Susanna was suspicious, but the offer seemed genuine. If he backed out, she would only need go to the judges and have them play the tapes of their rehearsal to show that he did offer up his time slot for the stage. “Okay,” she said. “Show me what you got.”
Garcia stood. “Niki? Come up here, please,” Garcia called. Susana accompanied him to the piano.
Niki was suddenly by Garcia’s side. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re actually on stage with Susanna Hoffs! Away Teams are so much fun.”
Susanna seemed bewildered. “You act like you know us,” Susanna said.
“Just from having watched the show,” Garcia offered, giving Niki a warning glance. “Niki, calm down. And go get that guitar over there.”
The rest of the Bangles gathered around.
“What’s going on, Sue?” Debi asked.
“We’re not forfeiting our practice, are we?” Michael asked.
“Just calm down, a moment,” Susana said. “Garcia here has offered to help.”
“Why?” Vicki asked.
“Why? Because, I like you,” Garcia sang. He played the piano part of the song and spoke to them. “This is a song by Brian Wilson, Earth, 1963. And your band seems to have an affinity towards music from the sixties. Even for the eighties, you kind of have a retro sound with a touch of modern. Now, this is the original, as you can hear. It reveals a sensitive side of the character, or perhaps the author himself, Brian Wilson, the side that we don’t often reveal in public because it can be considered weakness.” Garcia nodded to Niki. Niki accompanyed Garcia on guitar, singing harmony to his lead:
There’s a world where I can go And tell my secrets to In my room, in my room In this world I lock out all my Worries and my fear
In my room, in my room Do my dreaming and my scheming Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing Laugh at yesterday
Now it’s dark and I’m alone But I won’t be afraid In my room, in my room
“Of course,” Garcia said, returning to just playing the music. “Just because it’s kind of soft and almost sad, it doesn’t mean it can’t be jazzed up. This is what it might sound like with a jazz tempo. Or how about a Calypso sound. Beach Boys and Calypso kind of go well together. Or, if you really want to go wild, here’s a punk rock version…”
Niki burst out laughing and was no longer able to keep up with Garcia’s changes. The bangles were unable to suppress their awe with his versatility as he rolled through several other major genres of music. Susanna motioned her girls to get their instruments and Niki handed Susanna the guitar she was using. The muse was moving Susanna Hoffs.
“He is amazing,” Susanna said to Niki.
“I know,” Niki said, biting her lip, thinking ‘I’m talking to Susanna Hoffs!’
“Are you this much fun all the time?” Susanna asked Garcia.
“No, I’m usually quite boring,” he answered. “So, what do you think? Would you like to hear another
arrangement?”
“You own this song,” Susanna said. “It makes me want to be in your room with you.” “In your room!” Niki giggled, brushing up against Garcia.
“That’s it,” Vicki said.
“What?” Michael asked. “His room?”
“Play, Garcia,” Susanna said. “A little more up beat, and try and follow me. Yeah, like that.” If Garcia was curious about the Bangle’s presence on Iotia before, he was even more so, now. They
acted and behaved as if they had been born and raised on Iotia, and yet, he seemed to be eliciting a song that he had known they had written on Earth. Because he knew the song, almost as well as he knew ‘In My Room,’ he was able to blend it into a melody. He did all of this and made it seem like it was all them making it up on the spot. As far as the Iotian’s Bangles were concerned, their singing “In Your Room” was completely spontaneous. Pure inspiration, kissed by a muse. The thought of a muse reminded him of Harmonia, sometimes portrayed to be one of the seven daughter’s of Zeus, sent to inspire men, but sometimes thought to be the daughter of Aries and Aphrodite. Whether it was gods, repressed memories coming to life, or some form of quantum mechanics, Susana nailed her song.
I love it in your room at night You're the only one who gets through to me In the warm glow of the candlelight Oh, I wonder what you're gonna do to me In your room
I come alive when I'm with you I'll do anything you want me to
In your room
I love it in your room all day
When you're gone I like to try on all your clothes You won't regret it if you let me stay I'll teach you everything that a boy should know In your room
I'm alive when I'm with you
Gonna make your dreams come true In your room
I feel good in your room
Let's lock the world out
Feels so good when we kiss
Nobody ever made me crazy like this I'll do anything you want me to I only want to be with you
In your room
In your room
Niki clapped and jumped with excitement and Susana cradled her guitar so she could give Garcia a hug. The remaining Bangles gathered around him, too, thanking him. The judges entered the stage, followed by the hecklers who were now causing a major ruckus. Trini, Lenar and Kletsova approached the stage, expecting a fight. Niki touched Garcia’s hand. “Isn’t that Quiet Riot?”
“I told you he was helping them. This is cheating,” the heckler said.
“Calm down, Randy,” Simon said. “I’ll handle this. Garcia, what’s going on here?” “I was just helping them out,” Garcia said.
“He admits it,” Randy said, crossing his arms.
“Technically, it’s not against the rules,” Paula interceded on Garcia’s behalf.
“Well, it should be,” Simon said. “We’re here to judge people’s talents, not their ability to play well
together.”
“I would ask you not to punish the Bangles,” Garcia said. “I take full responsibility for my actions and
will accept whatever penalty you decide is fair.”
“Who are the Bangles?” Paula asked.
“That’s Ms. Hoffs band,” Niki said.
“I want him penalized. He just gave this all girl band an advantage,” Randy said. “And we’re not
going to take this!”
“Why are you making my life miserable, Garcia?” Simon asked. It was a side of Simone Garcia hadn’t
seen before.
“I’m sorry. I had good intentions. My mission is to bring music and harmony to the world,” Garcia
said. “To me, it’s not about winning or loosing a contest. It’s about sharing and lifting everyone up.” “Who are you?” both Susanna and Paula said at the same time, both enamored with him. Kletsova just shook her head and returned to her seat.
“I am Tammas Garcia, lead singer of Star Fleet,” he said.
“Fine,” Simon said. “If you help one band, you’re going to help all the bands, even if it is to your own
detriment. Make yourself available to everyone and if I find any evidence that you don’t give your best to
everyone equally, I’ll throw you out of the competition.”
“I believe that’s fair,” Garcia said. “Thank you, Simon.”
Simon did a double take. “Alright, then. This is settled. Okay, Randy?”
“We practice at four,” Randy growled at Garcia.
“16 hundred hours. I’ll be here,” Garcia said.
kjº
Sharlow and her selected staff sat around a table in the mess hall, eating rations as they held their
conference. They lost eleven people when the Ferengi ship dragged them out of the ice. They managed to
reclaim engineering and the shuttle bay, but they had been unable to recover their shuttle that was set adrift.
The only technical gain they achieved was turning on the main viewer, which enabled them to watch the
Ferengi ship clearing out more of the comet with its phasers so they could dock against the artifact. “Any chance we can fix the subspace antennae array?” Sharlow asked.
The answer was what she had expected. There was really very little they could do without replicators
and more power.
“Alright, how about using one of the Horizon’s shuttles to go retrieve the Darwin?” Sharlow asked. “They haven’t been used in over two hundred years and they have no fuel,” Burke pointed out. “Well, we can’t just sit here,” Sharlow said. “With the resources we have available, I need someone to
come up with a plan for retrieving the Darwin.”
Sharlow’s comm. badge rang. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you might want to see this.” “What is it?” Sharlow asked.
“It’s a live broadcast from Iotia. Of course, it was broadcast one hundred and six hours ago, so it’s not
live, technically, but... Well, you really will want to see this. If you have a PADD, I’ll pipe it down to you,” a
cadet Myers said.
Burke and the other staff members gathered around Sharlow’s chair and waited for the PADD to
display what Myers was all hot about. The sound came on before the picture crystallized to reveal a band
wearing old Star Fleet uniforms, circa 2266. The song being sung was an old Earth song, “Come Sail Away,”
originally by Styx.
“What the hell?” Burke asked. “Is that Garcia?”
“He’s alive at least,” Lt. Ammon said.
“How could he compromise his security by being on television? He’s putting Carter’s child in
danger,” Burke said.
“Or, he’s guaranteeing her safety. It’s a risky gamble, either way,” Sharlow agreed. “What’s the line
at the bottom?”
“It’s an old internet navigation protocol,” Ammon said. “Apparently you can log onto the shows
website and view material on the contestants.”
“Can we do that from here? Can we get a message to him?” Sharlow asked.
“There will be huge time laps between signals, but I don’t see why not,” Ammon said. “Of course, he
would have to be able to receive emails, otherwise we may have to rely on the producers to get him his fan
mail, and then hope he answers fan mail. It may be possible to access one of the Iotian satellites and from
there route a signal onto the internet.”
“What about the buoy? Can we use that as a relay?” Sharlow asked.
“I’ll get on it,” Ammon said, and excused herself. “Their internet protocols are easy enough to
decipher. I’ll let you know if I make contact with Garcia.”
“If we live through this, I’m going to kill him,” Burke said.
“Now, we don’t know his situation. He may be doing what he has to in order to survive,” Sharlow
said.
kjº
The cigar smoking man opened up his cell phone and put it to his ear. “What?” he asked. “Sorry, boss, but I think you want to see this. Turn to channel five.”
The cigar smoking man clicked the channel over with his remote and propped his feet up on his desk.
“What? You like this crappy music the media is serving the kids these days? If it’s not Big Band, it’s not
music.”
“No, boss, I want you to look at the lead singer, and tell me if it doesn’t look like the guy we fished out
of your crop circle.”
The cigar smoking man leaned forward to appraise the singer and then put his feet on the floor. “I
thought I told Jim to take care of him.”
“You did boss.”
“I want to see Jim in my office. One hour,” the cigar smoking man demanded.
kjº
“Ahh,” Brock said, sighing with pleasure. “You give the best oo-mox.” “Why, thank you,” Tina, the secretary purred. “Can I change the channel?” “Honey, you can do whatever you want if you keep oo-moxing me like that,” Brock s