“Because, you’re vulnerable at this moment,” Garcia said.
“You doubt that I want this?” Persis asked. “That I’ve not wanted to kiss and hold you since forever?”
“I have no doubt of your wanting,” Garcia said. “It mirrors my own. I’ve thought of you often over the years, but that’s not the point. You’re not the best that you can be right now. Hell, I’m not the best.”
“If we wait till we’re both at our best, we may never…” Persis began.
Garcia stopped her from saying it, with a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” Garcia said. “I want you to be at a better place, a healthier place, with both feet on the ground. My life is complicated, way out of control, and I may not be doing you a favor by asking you to stay, but I know I can help Tama Orleans find a healthier way of being. I can empathize with her condition, having been through what she is going through. And, I think I can help you. If you want me to.”
“I want to be close to you again,” Persis said.
“It won’t ever be what we had,” Garcia said. “And, it is looking more and more as if I can’t have a normal relationship. There’s a 99 percent probability that every time I’m intimate a child is produced.”
“Have you considered a vasectomy?” Persis asked.
Garcia chuckled, glad to see part of her medical training was still there. “Yes, actually,” Garcia admitted. “My body healed itself. The perfect Kelvan specimen.”
“There are other options,” Persis said. “A twentieth century technology?”
“Condoms?” Garcia asked. “Possibly, but you and I have the additional issue of being allergic to each other. We can’t risk being intimate. We’re lucky to have this moment.”
“Medical technology will improve. We can work on it,” Persis said. “And, we can use the holodeck in the mean time, both in our own holodeck, but connected in tandem, like you suggested.”
Garcia hugged her close to him and patted her on the back. “Let’s see where we are in a month or so. You really need to examine my life before you make any decisions,” Garcia said. “I’m not the same person you remember me being.”
He risked kissing her forehead, very paternal.
Garcia stood up. “I have to go.”
“Must you?” Persis said.
He only nodded. “You and Tama should go to the New Constitution. You’ll be more comfortable there. I’ve already set you up the best accommodations. Just let Losira know when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Tam, for everything,” Persis said.
Garcia knocked on Tama’s door. It opened and she went right to him, hugging him as if she might not see him again.
“I love you,” Tama Orleans said.
“I love you, too,” Garcia said quickly, and rushed to the bathroom to be sick.
After cleaning up, he spent a few more moments with them, telling them what to expect on the New Constitution. Then he went to see Nancy, Boris, and Nikita. Nancy and Nikita greeted him as affectionately as they always had, making Boris visibly put out, suggesting some latent jealousy.
“Here’s the deal,” Garcia said. “Nikita, you can’t stay on the Path Finder. You’ll have to go to the New Constitution.”
“You can drop us off at Earth, can’t you?” Boris asked.
“No, I can’t,” Garcia said. “You and Nancy Carter have been exposed to Starburst technology. Consequently, you both have been permanently assigned to my command, compliments of Admiral Pressman. I expect you both to work together professionally, however, if that can’t happen, I will assign one of you to the NC and the other will remain here. And not in these quarters. Whoever stays here will have to share a bunk with other Officers.”
“This is outrageous,” Boris said.
“I could assign you both to the NC. You will at least have accommodations that you’re use to,” Garcia said. “This ship is not built for luxury and the people here are already working double shifts and I don’t have time to nurse maid you. You can expect to work equally as hard if you stay. The NC has it a little easier, but that may not be for much longer. I may have to start a crew rotation with the Path Finder to keep people fresh.”
“So, either way we’re screwed,” Boris said.
“Hey,” Nancy scolded her ex. “He doesn’t deserve that attitude from you. He rescued our daughter. He even put her first above his own flesh and blood.”
“It was because of him that Niki was put in danger to begin with!” Boris said, returning to an old argument. “And if we stay with him, we’re all targets.”
“I can send Nikita back to Earth,” Garcia said. “But you two are stuck with me. I assure you, Nikita is safe on the NC, but I understand your concern and will work with you as much as I can.”
“I trust you,” Nancy said.
“I don’t,” Boris said.
“Tama will be on the NC,” Nancy told her ex. “He’s not asking anything greater of us than he is of any of the rest of his crew.”
“I’m going to go public with what you’re doing here, Garcia,” Boris said.
“I’m going to save you the trouble,” Garcia said.
“Are you crazy?” Nancy asked. “You’ll start a war!”
“No, I’m going to finish a war,” Garcia said. “You have one hour to check in with the duty master of either the NC or the Path Finder. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” kjº
The Seven of Nine Clone was unconscious on arrival. Garcia touched her neck, verifying a pulse. Afu was lying nearby, Elika sitting next to him, holding his hand. Harmonia took Garcia’s hand. They were in an open field, with grass stretching as far as the eye could see. Breaking the monotony of the green were fruit bearing trees and small flowers. Butterflies and bees danced happily over the field. Except for the flowers, the grass seemed to be uniformly cut and might have been mistaken for a golf course if it weren’t for the lack of variation, such as sand traps and flags.
Harmonia smiled at Garcia. She was sitting in the lotus position, looking healthy and content, almost drugged. “I’m sorry. This place was the only option available to me,” she said.
“Here seems nice enough at the moment,” Garcia said. “I assume it is better than where we were?”
Harmonia nodded. “You were successful in destroying the Earth,” she said. “Mithras will not have the patience to re-seed Earth with reptilians. The mammals will take over. Humans will evolve on schedule. Your time line has been maintained.”
“Can you cure Afu?” Garcia asked.
“No,” Harmonia said. “But I can grant him passage back to Earth, your time.”
“I don’t understand,” Garcia said.
“I’m not leaving my friends,” Afu protested.
“Hush,” Garcia said. “You’re wounded, and if she can get you home, you’re going.” Still, he had to ask Harmonia: “Why can’t you send all of us?”
“A deal was made,” Harmonia said. “I can only send Afu.”
“At least send Elika and Seven back with him,” Garcia said.
Harmonia smiled and touched Garcia’s face. “I would send you all back, if I could. But I don’t have that kind of authority. I can only send Afu. It has been decided that you will remain here for the rest of your days.”
“Where is here?” Garcia asked.
“You’re in grid one million, ten thousand, one hundred, thirty two, on the inner surface of the Dyson sphere, Haven,” Harmonia said. “This particular sphere was a joint effort between the Grays and the Iconians, a project commissioned by the gods in order to cultivate samples of prominent species necessary to continue with our experiments to extend and preserve life throughout the Universe.”
Garcia looked up at the sky and the horizon, but he could not discern any slope or curve or any other feature that might indicate that they were on the inner surface of a sphere with a sun dead center. The only noticeable feature of the sky was that the sun was at the noon position, and all points on the inner surface of a Dyson sphere would see the sun in the noon day position, directly over head, provided the sun was perfectly center of the sphere. There would be no day night cycles inside a sphere. If there was darkness to come, it would be an artificial night, some sort of large obstruction that would pass above to temporarily block out the sun.
Though the idea of exploring an Inconian-Gray version of a Dyson sphere, which would take a life time to see even a hundred thousandth of the ‘world’, he did not like the idea of being held hostage. If there was a way off or out of this place, he would find it, or die trying.
“This is unreasonable,” Garcia said. “You have no right to hold us here against our will.”
“That is a philosophical tangent with which I agree,” Harmonia said, but she seemed to know Garcia all too well. “But you will not leave this structure alive. You have your free will back. You may go where you wish while you are here, but I tell you honestly, trying to escape here is futile. There are no spaceships to be had. There are no metals to mine in which you, or your descendants, might utilize to build spaceships. The only renewable sources you have will be biological in nature, plants and animals.”
“What about minerals?” Garcia asked. “Organic creatures need minerals.”
“Trace minerals necessary for biological functions are replenished through technological means,” Harmonia said. “All the necessary things to sustain life have been made available. This particular grid is suitable to sustain you. I recommend you not try to leave this grid, but it is not a commandment. Knowing you, I suspect you will try. It is a difficult task, but not insurmountable. If you succeed, you will no doubt encounter other species, some of them compatible with you, some less compatible. But it is best you stay here and learn to be happy.”
“I can’t be happy in a cage, regardless of the size,” Garcia said.
Harmonia chuckled. “Don’t seem so discontent, Garcia. It was better than the other option. At least you are not in a Hades experiment, or being hunted by Apollo.”
“Is there anything I can do or say that would allow us to go free?” Garcia asked.
“Kiss me,” Harmonia said.
Garcia kissed her. Harmonia closed her eyes, as if savoring chocolate melting on her tongue. She smiled and then opened her eyes. “It is what it is, Tam,” Harmonia said, looking into his eyes, mischievously. “We will meet again.”
Harmonia melted away, beaming into the manifestation Orb. Afu vanished in the blink of an eye, and then the Orb shot straight up into the sky and disappeared. Elika cried out and hit the ground with her fists and pulled the grass out in clumps. Garcia tried to comfort her, but she just wasn’t having it. She laid her head in the grass and cried. He rubbed her back and her neck, allowing her to continue for as long as she needed, for it was the first time he had seen her grieve since he had met her, and given her story, she needed to grieve in a bad way, even if it was triggered by the loss of Afu, who she still believed to be a god. She eventually cried herself to sleep. Garcia sat and studied the sky, trying to discern the edges of his cage, but he might as well have been staring into infinity, or into the far reaches of time itself. Seven was more practical. On awaking, she visited a nearby tree and gathered fruit for them to eat. She picked only what they needed for an immediate meal, no more.
When she returned, she handed him something that resembled an apple, and presented him with another problem. “If we do not find access to technology that I can utilize to create a regeneration chamber, I will eventually become ill and die.” She was very matter of fact about it.
“What’s the basic level of tech you need to sustain yourself?” Garcia asked.
“I see no point in discussing it at this juncture,” Seven said.
“You started the conversation,” Garcia said. “Can we use a tricorder?”
“We don’t have a tricorder,” Seven pointed out. Their tricorder and Starfleet weapon had been confiscated by the Voth. All they had with them was the Voth army belts and weapons, with a limited supply of ammo.
“What do you need?” Garcia asked again.
Seven supplied him with the information. Garcia scratched his head, frowning.
“I said basic level of tech,” Garcia said.
“I told you there was no point in discussing it,” Seven said.
“What I’m trying to get at is that if you just need energy, maybe we can alter my implant to beam you sufficient energy to help you regenerate,” Garcia said. “It broadcasts on several frequencies, so all we have to do is fine tune it. Even if we have to lie with our heads touching, that would be better than nothing, right?”
“Perhaps,” Seven said, calculating the possibilities based on what she knew his implant capable of. “I will require a minimum of eight hours of time, at your highest transmission frequency, every cycle.”
“Fine, I will just learn to sleep for eight hours,” Garcia said.
“You will not be able to sleep during the process,” Seven said.
“Meditate?” Garcia asked.
“The quality and depth of your focus will affect the process,” Seven said. “We will have to experiment. It may also be necessary to upgrade your implant.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Garcia asked.
Seven removed one of the knives from her Voth military belt. Garcia looked at her skeptically, as if he imagined she was about to cut into his skull. Instead, she cut her hand, and then asked for Garcia’s hand. He intuitively understood what she wanted. It was more than becoming blood brothers. They joined hands, their blood mixing, and some of the Borg Nanites in her blood stream went into his. Over time they would multiply and eventually there would be sufficient numbers in his blood to perform menial tasks, such as repairing damaged cells or organs wherever they encountered such, or lie dormant waiting for a chance to respond to a crisis. But some would encounter his implant and begin modifying it. No doubt they would accelerate the modification process once Garcia started directing energy into Seven to prompt her regeneration cycle. The Nanites in her system would communicate with the ones in his and they would coordinate and facilitate the procedure.
CHAPTER TWENTYFIVE
Captain Gleason and Captain Garcia waited for the express elevator that would shoot them to the hundredth floor. It arrived at ground level and opened to reveal Arlene Barton, Admiral Madison’s secretary and granddaughter. There was no hiding the fact that she was in a maternal way and Garcia shoulders slumped on recognizing that fact. She had been talking with a friend but she stopped the moment her eyes lighted on him. She actually executed a perfect double take, her jaw dropping. She dropped her PADD and instantly embraced Garcia.
“Oh my god,” Arlene cried, squeezing Garcia tightly. She stepped back. “Betty, this is Captain Garcia. Captain, this is my friend, Betty.”
“Betty,” Captain Garcia said, graciously. “This is Captain Gleason.”
“Captain, Captain,” Betty said, trying to be funny.
“Ladies,” Captain Gleason said.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here. I thought you were, well, never mind that, how long are you here, do have time to visit, where are you headed?” Arlene rambled in a breathless fashion.
“Okay, whoa,” Garcia said. “Drop out of warp, and one question at a time. No, I take that back. No questions, step back into the lift and come up with us. Betty?”
“I think I should be going,” Betty said. “We’ll talk later, Arlene.”
Arlene just kind of nodded, her eyes never leaving Garcia’s eyes. Betty picked the PADD up off the floor and handed it back to Arlene, and winked at her, but the attempt at communication was lost on her friend. Arlene was more than star struck, she was completely dazed. The three of them entered the lift and Gleason ordered the floor that they wanted, asking for direct, no stops. The lift accelerated and without inertial dampeners they could feel the speed as it shot up. Arlene put a hand on her stomach.
“Going up,” Arlene said, smiling exuberantly. She embraced Garcia again. “I am so happy to see you!”
Garcia was rather at a loss for words.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Arlene said, patting his cheek lightly. “I’m not going to pinch your retirement or anything.”
“Then,” Garcia managed.
Arlene nodded enthusiastically. “It blew right through my birth control,” she said. “It was just meant to be.”
“Well,” Garcia began, thinking he was about to argue her belief that ‘it was just meant to be,’ only what was he to say to that? Fortunately, they arrived at their floor saving him from having to say anything.
The three of them departed the lift and headed down the corridor. Admiral McCoy emerged from an office at the same time that Admiral Chilton and Admiral Madison entered the corridor. Admiral Madison didn’t even hesitate and Garcia chose not to block. He took the punch directly to the jaw. Gleason and Chilton immediately restrained Madison.
“Grandpa!” Arlene said, putting herself between her grandfather and Garcia.
“Have you lost your mind?” Admiral McCoy demanded of Madison.
“I told you to stay away from my granddaughter,” Madison shouted at Garcia.
Garcia rubbed his jaw. “Are you through?” Garcia asked.
“That’s enough!” McCoy snapped, looking at both of them. “Now, we have a meeting to attend, gentleman. I expect a little decorum in front of the Federation President.”
“Are you okay,” Arlene asked Garcia, concerned.
“This is just a regular part of my day,” Garcia said.
“Oh,” Arlene said, sadly for him, and kissed him in an attempt to make it all better.
Madison reached for Garcia and again was blocked by Chilton and Gleason.
“Can I see you later?” Arlene asked.
“Yes,” Garcia said. “No,” Madison said, simultaneously.
“You be nice,” Arlene scolded her grandfather and then turned a smile back to Garcia. “Don’t you worry about anything. Everything is going to work out.”
“Gentlemen,” McCoy said. “We’re going to be late.”
Arlene remained as the four men went off to their meeting. Garcia was surprised at the members in attendance. Captain Janeway met Garcia’s eyes but didn’t give away her position by smiling or frowning, or showing any other signs of emotions. The most surprising person in attendance was Guinan and a man he knew as Sonny Clemmons. Guinan did sneak a smile at Garcia. Admiral Paris was present. There were Ambassadors representing Klingon, Trill, Vulcan, Orion, Andorian, and the Betazed species. The Federation’s Joint Secretary of Staff, Ilan, and the Federation President, Sylvia Fos, were present. Neither of the latter seemed happy.
“Captain Garcia,” President Sylvia Fos said. “Would you wait outside for a moment?”
Garcia stepped back outside. To his surprise, Arlene was still in the hall, waiting to see how long the meeting was going to take. She approached him.
“That was a fast,” Arlene said.
“It doesn’t take long to lynch a fellow,” Garcia said.
Arlene laughed. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” she said. “Still, I would love to be a fly in there. Do you imagine there’s some yelling going on?”
“I would prefer not to speculate,” Garcia said.
“Do you know I love you?” Arlene said, just blurting it out.
“Arlene,” Garcia began.
“No, don’t say anything,” Arlene said. “No matter what happens, good, bad, indifferent, I want you to remember that. Carry that as a strength. I have no illusions or expectations, I never did, just you carry that fact, right here.”
Arlene touched his chest, his heart.
The door opened and Captain Janeway asked Garcia to return to the room.
“You remember that,” Arlene said.
“Thank you, Arlene,” Garcia said, and he returned to his funeral.
The group had fairly well spread out to their corners of the room, leaving Garcia facing the President, who leaned against the front of her desk, arms crossed. She stared at Garcia as he stood at attention, waiting for her to pass sentence on him.
“You’re just a child,” President Sylvia Fos said.
Garcia didn’t respond to her observation.
“This has got to stop,” President Sylvia Fos said, finally getting to business. “The Preservers, Q, the Metrones, the Borg, the Gorn, the Cardassians, the Orion Crime Syndicate, the Romulans, and god knows who else. It has to stop. The Federation has sanctioned Star Fleet to protect its member states and when we put someone on the front line, we have to be able to trust them.”
Fos shook her head. She went around her desk and sat down. The electronic files scattered across her electronic desk top were reduced to tabs with a sweep of her hands, making the one prominent.
“I was actually happy to hear you had made a dent in the slave trading business,” Fos said. “Who, but the Ferengi, would have actually thought that in this day and age the economic viability of more than fifteen member states would have been so drastically impacted by illegal and immoral slave trading? Your solution is completely reprehensible, but it’s no better than Kirk’s solution of leaving the gangster state on Iotia. And had the legitimate government of Orion not sent an advocate on your behalf, praising your solution, I would have signed the order sending you to prison myself.”
President Fos signed the paper with a stylus, the file rose, folded, and inserted itself into a virtual file cabinet. She glanced over the next article in her file.
“Do you know why the Gorn are chasing you?” President Fos asked, looking up at Garcia.
“Well,” Garcia began, wondering if he should tell her about the dream he had about Q and the death of the dinosaurs.
“It’s a vendetta against you for destroying a Gorn colony, twenty plus billion years ago,” President Fos said. “You know how I know about it? Gary Seven and Lt. Afuhaamango were just in my office an hour ago explaining to me how you’re responsible for the destruction of the dinosaurs.”
“But I didn’t…” Garcia began. “Afu’s alive? He’s back?”
“Your friend is recovering from some injuries, but he’s fine,” the President said, her voice softer. “And, you didn’t technically do it. Your transporter clone did. The Gorn do not see the distinction. They think by killing you they can prevent you or your clone from going back in time and, consequently, saving their colony from destruction. Never mind the fact that it’s already happened, or the fact that you nearly destroyed the Earth in the process. Do you like blowing things up?”
Garcia opened his mouth to say something and then promptly shut it. The President closed another file and went to the next one. She shook her head.
“I don’t even know where to start with this one,” President Fos said, and sent it to the back of the virtual pile in front of her. The next one in file dealt with the Romulans. “Your petition to allow a contingent of Romulan Officers remain on the New Constitution, as an extension of good will between our two nations is hereby approved. Do you know why I’m approving this?”
Garcia shook his head.
“Do you know what a temporal patch is?” President Fos asked.
Garcia nodded. President Fos motioned for him to explain. “A temporal patch is generally a person, but could be an object, that has been sent back in time in order to repair a rift or anomaly in time that could result in a paradox event that could change or alter history in a dramatic way.”
“You’ve done your homework. In this sense, Lt. Tasha Yar was a temporal patch, used by another time line in an effort to protect this time line from unraveling,” President Fos said. “In that other timeline, the Federation and Romulan Empires fell to the Klingon Empire. The Romulan Empress knows this to be true. Both our species benefited from Tasha Yar’s sacrifice.”
“I don’t see how this relates to me,” Garcia said.
“There is another adjacent timeline in which the Romulan and Klingon Empires fall,” President Fos said. “They fall by your hands when you destroy their home worlds.”
Garcia felt sick at his stomach. He wanted to go sit down but he forced himself to remain standing. It took all his strength not to cry, but he couldn’t stop the voice of his sister in his head, reminding him he was a monster and a destroyer of worlds.
“You see the man sitting over there?” President Fos asked. “Do you know who that is?”
Garcia nodded. “His name is Sonny L Clemmons, a twentieth century performer who had himself cryogenically frozen at the time of his death in hopes of being resuscitated by future technology. Through a bit of fortune, the cryosatellite drifted for three hundred years and was discovered by the Enterprise D near the Kazis Binary star system on Stardate 41986.0 during the investigation of the disappearance of Federation outposts along the Federation Romulan Neutral Zone.”
“You know your history, I’ll give you that much,” President Fos said. “But you really don’t believe it to be a mere coincidence, do you?”
“The presence of the Earth space module in that star system was never been adequately explained, perhaps due to more pressing matters at the time,” Garcia said, trying to distract himself by conjuring up explanations for how the space module got so far away from Earth, at sub-light speeds. “It is an interesting curiosity. I’m surprised more time wasn’t put into an investigation after the crisis was settled.”
“We know how it got there,” President Fos said.
“Oh?” Garcia asked. When she didn’t volunteer how it got there, he couldn’t resist asking: “And how is that?”
“You put it there,” President Fos said.
“I don’t understand,” Garcia said.
“There is no Sonny Clemmons,” President Fos said. “There is only Tammas Garcia. Sonny Clemmons is Tammas Garcia. Sonny Clemmons is you, a temporal patch to correct a temporal anomaly. In the other timeline, the Enterprise D is destroyed by the Romulans. After that, the Romulans nearly destroy the Federation, but someone over there, like in this Universe, gives you Kelvan technology and you proceed to wipe out the Borg, wipe out the Romulans, and wipe out the Klingons. Guinan is one of the only survivors of that timeline’s Enterprise and she enlists your help to repair the damage. You steal a cryosatelite from Earth’s past, you use your Kelvan technology to change your physiology so that no one will recognize you, you have yourself cryogenically frozen, and then when the Enterprise crew wakes you up, you give them just enough hints on how to avoid a confrontation that leads to all out war, where dozens of worlds all across the alpha quadrant are destroyed.”
Garcia again started to say something but then simply couldn’t find the words.
“The Romulan Empress knows this and she is determined to protect you at all costs,” President Fos said. “And if that means making a secret alliance with you, leaving Royal Guards with you, eliminating some of your enemies, such as the Gorn, or these so called gods, then she’s going to do it. As for the temporal patch, in order to prevent it from unraveling in this particular time line, you must take Sonny Clemmons back in time, place him in cryogenic suspension, and haul that satellite back to the Kazis Binary system so that it rendezvous with Picard and history repeats itself.”
“Why me?” Garcia asked. “Anyone should be capable of taking him back.”
“I wish it were that simple,” President Fos said. “Unfortunately, it requires someone capable of using Kelvan technology. Sonny Clemmons is stuck forever in a temporal loop, doomed for all eternity to repeat the process of correcting the time line. Consequently, every time he completes a cycle, his body ages. According to him, he’s completed three cycles and each cycle last several years before he returns to the beginning of the loop. Each time you take him back, you use the Kelvan technology to keep his body at the specific biological age that he was initially frozen.”
“I hate temporal anomalies,” Garcia muttered, rubbing his forehead. He looked to Kathryn Janeway for help, but she only seemed sympathetic.
“Don’t look at me,” Captain Janeway said.
“It’s like this,” Guinan said. “If Sonny Clemmons was 40 years old when he was initially frozen, and the next time he was frozen was when he was forty two, and then the next time he was frozen was when he was forty four, and so on, he would eventually become too old to continue to be killed and revived using the cryogenic method.”
“It’s either that, or you use that Kelvan transporter on you to make another Garcia Clemmons clone to keep the patch going,” Sonny Clemmons offered.
“That would give you a reprieve from yo
